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Contributed by: Sandy Clifton on 10/13/2006

Lets see how many people will actually do this. I will start a Halloween story and hopefully others will tag on to it and in a few days I will update what people added to make a complete story. It might be something cool for a kid to read in the print edition. People who contributed: Sandy Clifton, Tabitha Dial, Brendan Leonard, Robert White, Rob Guthrie, Barbara Neff, Gladys Mercier, William Boucher, Rob Guthrie, Karin Malchow.

Beware! For your kiddies

Along the dark shadows in the alley lies a deep and tortuous creature. Feared by all, it creeps along the floorboard cracks. It clings to the darkness and preys on the small, waiting for that chance to capture you all. In the night, you can only spot him by the light of his eyes. He lives in the dreary place where no man shall dare enter especially on a night like tonight, Friday the 13th. He is Smithy, the black cat.

Now they say all cats have nine lives, but legend has it that Smithy had 13. Smithy was so named because his former owner was a blacksmith, who died in a bizarre accident on Friday the 13th many years ago. Unfortunately, Smithy was the only witness to the horrible accident which proved to be such a shock to Smithy that he became silent, never making another sound to this day, as he creeps silently through the darkest and most dangerous parts of the city.

Lenny Brendan was a slight, bookish child of thirteen years who spent his days lurking in the shadows of the school hallways, hiding from the cruel words of those who could not understand his peculiar ways. His clothes were black and clung to him like skin. The big, round eyes that hung in his face were flat-gray and lifeless. To some he looked half dead already, but deep inside there was a fire that burned like a red sun. Lenny had no friends, but when he allowed himself to dream, it was of a secret army of them that would rise up in his defense and free him from suburban captivity. Yes, he told himself, an army. But one was all he really needed. Just one. One that could accept him for who he was; one that could help him have his revenge. Lenny came alive in the night: through the maze of dark city streets he could move unnoticed, without tether, entering the places even men feared to tread. It was in such a place that Lenny Brendan met the first and only friend he would ever have.

Lenny kicked a crushed can with aimless, thoughtless hostility as he entered the first alley he happened upon. It was dark, just as Lenny liked it. Darkness comforted Lenny. Darkness enveloped him in something as close to an embrace as he had ever known. Over the cacophony caused by Lenny's heavy footsteps and the skittering can, Lenny heard something that caused him to stop. Was it a piece of entangled trash flapping in the night breeze? Was it a whisper? Or, was it something scratching furiously?

Lenny saw two bright yellow eyes staring from the dark. Only a cat, he thought. Lenny went to pick it up and staggered back when he realized that it was something much bigger than a cat.Even Smithy was not that big. What could it be?

To Lenny's great surprise it was a boy. A boy, not much older than himself, with a tussled shock of jet black hair, shocking feline eyes, and some kind of strange necklace. Something about the necklace seemed odd. It looked remarkably similar to a handmade pet collar he had seen in a picture on a field trip to a nearby historic farm. He had no idea what the man's name in the picture was; he only knew that he was a blacksmith. The caption had read, "Smithy and Smithy" circa 1863.

The boy's skin was pale and translucent, showing the tributaries of purple veins just below the surface, and when he opened his mouth in a conspiratorial grin, Lenny sucked in a short breath and recoiled. The stranger did not have human teeth....they were narrow and sharp, almost....feline. But as the boy's head moved from deeper shadow to shallow, Lenny looked again, and the teeth were normal. The boy reached for him and Lenny did not move as the weightless fingers curled around his left shoulder. Those eyes, they looked past the façade, far down into the ugly places that made Lenny tick. They welcomed him to look back. And finally, as if from the reaches of an unforgivable dream, the boy spoke:

Who are you, boy?" the stranger asked of Lenny. His voice was guttural; his words lazing over his thin lips sounding almost like a hiss. "I'm Lenny. Who are you and what are you doing in my alley?" Lenny demanded. "Suffice it to say, I am a friend. If you must call me something, use the name on my pendant." "Smithy? Well, Smithy, tell me something. Why is your voice so weird?" "Well Lenny, I don't talk much. In fact, I haven't said a word in 13 years." Lenny was intrigued. "Why so long?" Smithy's eyes narrowed. "That is a long story. But that's the one thing you and I have plenty of. Time

I once lived with a blacksmith. Do you know what killed him?" Below one amber eye Lenny saw a puckered scar, burned in another lifetime by a glowing iron ingot. "I think I do," Lenny said, slowly. "It was an accident." "Yes, an accident." The boy's voice rumbled from his chest, his hand vibrating on Lenny's shoulder. "Careless people have them." He stepped away, fading into the alley mist. Lenny turned, began to walk, listening to a cat's soft footfalls shadowing him home. He wouldn't be alone anymore. He had his ally in vengeance. That is, if he was careful.

The day Lenny Brendan brought a cat to school was Halloween. Smithy had been whispering in Lenny's ear each night, sharing ancient tales of bloodshed and torture at the hands of a blacksmith. The kids at Brandstetter Middle School were dressed like freaks. It was the one day of the year Lenny did not feel out of place. Principal Dial, however, was not happy to see a black cat in the hands of one of her students. Before she could utter a word, Lenny smiled and said: "She looks so real, doesn't she? I want to work in Hollywood someday. Go ahead, pet her. Bet you can't tell the difference." Principal Dial was mesmerized by the haunting yellow eyes. Such a great imitation, she thought numbly as she reached for the cat. The awful thing hissed at her and she flinched backward. A trickle of blood ran from where a claw had opened her skin. But those eyes---those horrible, delicious, comforting eyes. "Carry on," was all Dial said, licking at the blood as she had when she was a child.

Lenny's mind raced. If Smithy had this affect on Principal Dial, what would happen when he unleashed him on the kids who had bullied him. He decided to start with Bradley Tyler. If a thirteen year old could have a nemesis, this would be the guy. He was one of those know-it-all kids that liked to pull the wings of off flies and give indian burns to the bookies. As if on cue, a meat hook of a hand spun Lenny around until he was looking straight into Bradley's blemished, ruddy face. "Let me see your dolly, Nancy," Bradley sneered. Smithy's amber eyes narrowed, and Bradley could swear he saw raging fire in them. Suddenly, Bradley wet himself and started sobbing uncontrollably. "Whatever you just did to his head, Smithy, I hope it's irreversible."

An hour later, with Smithy loose somewhere in the school, Lenny was staring at a printout from a news archive: "On June 13th, 1864, the one-room school house in Yore Hub, Iowa, burned to the ground. The fire was caused by an accident involving the blacksmith business next door. The entire youth population of Yore Hub was extinguished in this one terrible tragedy. The only living thing to survive the fire was a singed cat, thought to belong to the blacksmith himself, an honorable man who also perished in the fire." Where did this come from? Lenny wondered. His mind whirled. Hadn't his mom talked of a different fire in Baer Public School the year he was born? Things were getting out of control. Bradley wetting himself was one thing, but...Lenny thought maybe he could find Smithy, still put an end to the madness. Then he saw the first curl of dense, acrid smoke. He could hear the screams now too, just barely: they crooned quietly over the approach of the hot, crackling flames. The End?


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Showing 1-10 of 12 comments
Submitted By: Dennis E Smith
posted on 9/9/2007 @ 9:37:30 AM
(Not Rated)
Lenny then leaped into action, call 911, pull the alarms, then out of the flames appeared Smithy, eyes glowing green and emanating an opaque egg like bubble around them. Follow me meowed Smithy, Lenny grabbed his tail and they all leapt to safety,Students and staff following like a chain of fluttering moths. They were impervious to the flames as Smithys cocoon shielded them from the intense heat and smoke.
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: Kristopher Thornton
posted on 1/20/2007 @ 3:37:10 PM
Rated Story
Bradley soon had the fire out, though he looked like an uninflated balloon when he finished. Upon realizing that his plans had been foiled by his own devilish trick, Smithy lunged at Bradley with claws drawn. "Meow, Meow!" Smithy yelled, as he flew through the air. Bradley stood in place, watching the oncomming feline with a dumbfounded look on his face. A few seconds later Smithy was one him, clawing at Bradley's face relentlessly. In a fury, Bradley grabbed Smithy by his front legs and heaved him 5 feet, headlong into the wall... "THUD! CRACK! MEOW!" Smithy fell to the ground in a broken heap. Bradley launched himself to his feet in triumph of his victory over the foot tall and vastly inferior creature. Things soon turned to normal in the small town, with one exception. A small boy, in a dark, forgetten alley. Beneath this boy lay what looked to be a mangled cat.
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: Kristopher Thornton
posted on 1/20/2007 @ 3:37:00 PM
Rated Story
Lenny was later admitted to an insane asylum after he had tried to 'consume' Smithy's life force. Two years later, there was a fire in that same asylum. Everyone in the asylum died... however, there are stories about a strange, skeletal little boy who was seen running off in the light of the fire. ... he later died... the end.
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: Sandy Clifton
posted on 10/24/2006 @ 2:41:39 PM
Rated Story
ha, it kind of got morbid huh. lol
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: William Boucher
posted on 10/21/2006 @ 9:01:21 PM
Rated Story
"My bad", Lenny said. Just kidding; don't add that. Nice wrap-up Robbo.
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: Rob Guthrie
posted on 10/19/2006 @ 12:09:57 PM
Rated Story
An hour later, with Smithy loose somewhere in the school, Lenny was staring at a printout from a news archive: “On June 13th, 1864, the one-room school house in Yore Hub, Iowa, burned to the ground. The fire was caused by an accident involving the blacksmith business next door. The entire youth population of Yore Hub was extinguished in this one terrible tragedy. The only living thing to survive the fire was a singed cat, thought to belong to the blacksmith himself, an honorable man who also perished in the fire.” Where did this come from? Lenny wondered. His mind whirled. Hadn’t his mom talked of a different fire in Baer Public School the year he was born? Things were getting out of control. Bradley wetting himself was one thing, but...Lenny thought maybe he could find Smithy, still put an end to the madness. Then he saw the first curl of dense, acrid smoke. He could hear the screams now too, just barely: they crooned quietly over the approach of the hot, crackling flames. The End?
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: Barbara Neff
posted on 10/15/2006 @ 1:17:03 PM
Rated Story
Lenny kicked a crushed can with aimless, thoughtless hostility as he entered the first alley he happened upon. It was dark, just as Lenny liked it. Darkness comforted Lenny. Darkness enveloped him in something as close to an embrace as he had ever known. Over the cacophony caused by Lenny's heavy footsteps and the skittering can, Lenny heard something that caused him to stop. Was it a piece of entangled trash flapping in the night breeze? Was it a whisper? Or, was it something scratching furiously?
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: Karin Malchow
posted on 10/15/2006 @ 12:21:09 AM
Rated Story
“I once lived with a blacksmith. Do you know what killed him?” Below one amber eye Lenny saw a puckered scar, burned in another lifetime by a glowing iron ingot. “I think I do,” Lenny said, slowly. “It was an accident.” “Yes, an accident.” The boy’s voice rumbled from his chest, his hand vibrating on Lenny’s shoulder. “Careless people have them.” He stepped away, fading into the alley mist. Lenny turned, began to walk, listening to a cat’s soft footfalls shadowing him home. He wouldn’t be alone anymore. He had his ally in vengeance. That is, if he was careful.
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: Gladys Mercier
posted on 10/13/2006 @ 7:31:01 PM
Rated Story
Lenny saw two bright yellow eyes staring from the dark. Only a cat, he thought. Lenny went to pick it up and staggered back when he realized that it was something much bigger than a cat.Even Smithy was not that big. What could it be?
[Report as objectionable]
Submitted By: Robert White
posted on 10/13/2006 @ 4:09:09 PM
(Not Rated)
Unfortunately, Smithy was the only witness to the horrible accident which proved to be such a shock to Smithy that he became silent, never making another sound to this day, as he creeps silently through the darkest and most dangerous parts of the city.
[Report as objectionable]
Showing 1-10 of 12 comments
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CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Sandy Clifton

Castle Rock , CO

Sandy Clifton has posted 3 stories and 16 comments since joining on 1/11/2006. Sandy Clifton 's average story rating is 4.64.
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