Listen to the audio version of the story

Once upon a time, out in the far reaches of space, there lived an emperor named Perovis who ruled over a sprawling kingdom of planets known as the Orvangian Intergalactic Empire.

Perovis was not a warrior like his father nor a scholar like his mother. He cared about one thing above all: riches. Gold and gems and all things that sparkled. It was for this love of glittery things, they called him Perovis the Elegant.

Under the rule of Perovis, the empire ignored the health and welfare of its people. Instead, it developed a vast network of mines, burrowing deep into planets like hungry space moles. The grandest of them all was called Shinebottom, a mine cut into the mountains of Tarkelstan, where gems spilled from the earth like water from a broken jug.

But the vast riches of Shinebottom came at a heavy price. The people of Tarkelstan, hardy and proud, protested the mine’s expansion. The emperor did not listen. He was too busy counting his treasures. Then, one fateful day, Shinebottom’s deepest dig split open the belly of the planet, and from its dark depths, a nightmare poured forth.

Monstrous waves of reptilian beasts with jagged fangs and armored hides came slithering through the breach, roaring their fury upon the land. They tore through villages, smashed forests, and surrounded the great capital city of Ghurshar like a massive python. The Tarkelstanis fought bravely, but their spears shattered like twigs against the creatures’ iron scales.

Fearing the loss of his greatest treasure trove, Emperor Perovis sent the Orvangian imperial army to destroy the monsters. They marched in gleaming formation, banners held high, their weapons sharp. And yet, against the beasts, their spears fell like leaves in a storm. The monsters cut the soldiers down with ease, and the survivors fled back behind the city’s walls.

Perovis tried everything to defeat them. New weapons, new strategies, new commanders. Nothing worked. Desperate, he declared a great bounty throughout the empire. Perovis would give all the riches of the imperial treasury to anyone who could rid him of these horrors.

That was when Malawick arrived.

A mad scientist from the distant world of Horgon, Malawick was known for two things: wild ideas and even wilder inventions. He claimed to have the answer to the emperor’s problem, a creation of his own making — something he called the Widgets.

Perovis summoned his court to witness the unveiling of this miracle weapon. Malawick presented a small, unremarkable box. From inside, he removed an even smaller machine. It rolled on tiny wheels and blinked with tinier lights.

The chamberlains laughed. The generals scoffed. Even Perovis, eager as he was for a solution, could not help but chuckle. “This…thing is your mighty weapon?”

Malawick only smiled. “Just give it a chance,” he said.

Reluctantly, the emperor agreed. They loaded Malawick and his single metal box onto an imperial transport ship and flew to Tarkelstan. When they arrived in Ghurshar, the scientist set his box down and pressed a button. The Widget came out whirring and clicking, and then—

Another appeared.

Then another.

Then two more.

And then four. And eight. And sixteen. In just a few short moments, an entire army of Widgets stood ready, their blinking lights casting a strange glow on the city walls.

Then, with a wave of Malawick’s hands, they rolled in unison out the city gates and off to war.

The battle was unlike any before it. The Widgets moved with uncanny precision, striking together, like an army of ants moving as one. They climbed onto the monsters’ backs, latched onto their jaws, and overwhelmed them in endless numbers. The beasts, mighty as they were, could not withstand the relentless tide of whirring, blinking Widgets. One by one, they fell until finally they turned and retreated back into the depths of the mine.

The empire rejoiced. Parades filled the streets, banners were raised, and Malawick was hailed as the hero genius of Ghurshar.

But when the celebration died down, greed crept back into the heart of emperor Perovis. He had promised Malawick a fortune, but fortunes are hard to part with, especially for one with such a deep obsession with treasure. Instead, Perovis dismissed the scientist with a sneer and banned Malawick from the empire.

But before he did this, Perovis ordered his chamberlains to steal one of the Widgets, believing his engineers could figure out how to use its magic.

Malawick, disgusted, took his remaining Widgets and vanished into the stars.

One year passed and the battle of Tarkelstan became a legend, a famous moment of Orvangian history. Shinebottom reopened and life returned to normal. The emperor, ever eager for fortune and fame, declared an anniversary festival to mark his great victory. The people feasted and danced in the streets.

But just as the celebration reached its peak, the monsters returned. They descended upon the city in a surprise attack.

Perovis was not worried. He had his stolen Widget. He ordered his generals to deploy it, confident the machine would save the day once again.

The Widget whirred. It clicked. It blinked. And just as before, it replicated. Two, four, eight widgets and so on. Perovis watched with excitement as the Widget army rolled out to face the monster horde.

But as the Widgets arrived to confront the monsters, something strange happened. The machines simply did not act as before. Sparks flew. Gears jammed. One by one, they clinked and clambered and fell to the ground in a rattle of useless metal junk.

It was a spectacular failure.

The monsters surged forward, their roars shaking the city. They smashed through the walls and rampaged through Ghurshar. As the emperor tried to flee, the largest of the beasts swallowed him whole. Then for good measure it ate all the chamberlains and generals, too.

With the emperor gone and his armies in ruin, the monsters seemed satisfied. Together they turned and slithered back into the mine.

The people of Tarkelstan, now free from the emperor’s grip, sealed Shinebottom shut and returned to their old ways — a simpler, but more peaceful life.

And as for Malawick?

It is said he reappeared a few years later after starting a band. The band became famous throughout the galaxy for its unique brand of electronic music. You’ve probably heard some of their songs. In fact, you already know the name of the band.

The end.

Listen to the audio version of the story

Yusuf was a nomad and an adventurer.

He wandered the countryside, traveling from town to town, village to village, never staying in one place for very long. Wherever he went, he would talk with the locals, listening to their stories, learning their ways. Sometimes, he worked in exchange for food — helping farmers in the fields, running errands about town, or doing whatever odd jobs he could find.

More than anything, Yusuf was curious. He loved asking questions, drawing out stories from the people he met.

One day, he arrived in a country he had never visited before. As he would find out, it was a land with a history of war and suffering. On the road, he heard whispers from passing travelers — tales of a land still recovering from a brutal civil war. Years earlier, two rival lords had fought for control, tearing the country apart.

And now, it was ruled by the soldier who led his men to victory in the war: General Kazack.

Kazack was no ordinary ruler — he was a tyrant. Yusuf first heard his name in a small village where he stopped for the night, sharing a fire with weary farmers and merchants. The villagers spoke in hushed tones, fearful of who might be listening.

Kazack and his men rode from town to town like raiders, seizing what they pleased. They kidnapped villagers and ransomed them back to their families in exchange for their wealth. They imposed crushing taxes and demanded payments for protection. Anyone who resisted faced brutal beatings, or worse. Whenever the sound of galloping hooves echoed through the valley, people hid their children and valuables, and prayed to be spared.

As Yusuf traveled from far and wide in this country, he heard the same stories again and again. Fear hung over the land like a thunder cloud.

But it wasn’t until he spoke to the children that he began to learn a deeper truth. They spoke of a legend, one their parents never discussed.

According to the children, Kazack had not won the war through military genius or courage on the battlefield.

He had help.

“The Two-Legged Wolf won the war,” they whispered.

Yusuf leaned in, intrigued.

A group of boys explained to Yusuf that during the civil war, one side began losing its leaders — mysteriously, in the dead of night. No one knew how. Generals, captains, and commanders simply vanished from their tents. At first, people thought it was treachery, betrayals within their own ranks. But then, a few survivors and witnesses started telling a strange tale.

In the middle of the night, a great wolf, walking on two legs, crept into the soldiers' encampments and stole away with their warlords.

One by one, the army’s leaders disappeared, until they were too weak to resist Kazack’s forces. And that was how Kazack won the war. After that, the two-legged wolf became a bedtime story to scare children to sleep.

As Yusuf listened, he started to understand what he had to do.

That night, he disappeared into the wilderness.

Deep in the forest, Yusuf lay in wait. He had set bait — scraps of meat, fresh from a village butcher. Then, he hid beneath the undergrowth, silent as a shadow.

In time, the wolves came.

One by one, they feasted, their keen eyes scanning the trees. Yusuf remained perfectly still.

Slowly, the wolves finished eating and retreated back into the darkness.

All except one.

It was the largest and blackest of all the wolves. It had filled its belly to the point of exhaustion, and so the wolf lingered, sniffing the air. Then, Yusuf struck.

He lunged from the brush with his spear and stabbed fiercely. The wolf fell.

Then, beneath the silver glow of the moon, Yusuf skinned the beast. His plan had begun.

The following day, Yusuf went in search of one of Kazak’s military camps. It didn’t take long to find an outpost full of soldiers led by an officer called Captain Asami.

Disguised as a simple day worker, Yusuf entered the military encampment, listening and watching. He learned where the captain slept, how the guards patrolled, and when the camp was at its most vulnerable.

That night, beneath a sky full of stars, the Two-Legged Wolf made a visit to the camp.

Silent as a ghost, Yusuf slipped past the guards. He crept around the back of the captain’s tent and sliced through the fabric. Inside, Asami lay in a deep sleep.

He didn’t even stir.

Yusuf clamped a hand over his mouth, dragged him through the opening, and carried him into the forest. He tied him to a tree and left him there.

A few days later, at another nearby camp, the two-legged wolf attacked again. This time it was Colonel Esmitch who disappeared in very much the same way.

By now, rumors were spreading like wildfire. Soldiers whispered of a curse: the vengeful spirit of their defeated civil war enemy had returned for payback.

Eventually, Yusuf found Kazack’s camp.

Still disguised as a laborer, Yusuf spotted the general in person for the first time. He was pacing the camp furiously, barking orders at his men.

“Kill every wolf within ten miles,” Kazack commanded.

Though he wanted to make his move that very night, Yusuf did not take Kazack. He had to be patient for his plan to work. But he also needed to further drive home the message.

In the witching hour of the night, Yusuf entered the camp and used his wolven claw to tear a massive gash into the side of the general’s tent.

The next morning, Kazack was pale. His hands trembled as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

The next night, Yusuf stalked around the general’s camp and howled. Not once, but over and over — circling the perimeter of the camp, making sure his cries were heard from every direction.

No soldier slept.

The following morning, Kazack was shaking with terror and frustration.

He shrieked at his men, desperate and paranoid.

Yusuf knew then the moment had arrived.

That night, Kazack lay awake in his tent. He begged for the peace of a restful slumber, but it never came. He was simply too afraid to sleep. Afraid of what lurked outside. Even with 50 guards surrounding his tent, Kazack feared the wrath of the wolf demon coming for its vengeance.

But the attack did not come from outside.

It came from below.

Kazack sat in his chair, gripping his sword, eyes darting at every shadow. Then — movement.

The ground shifted beneath him.

Something was rising from the earth.

A massive claw burst through the floor.

Kazack’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t even scream.

Then, the ground exploded.

A monstrous figure rose from the dirt — tall as a man, covered in fur, its eyes burning like fire. Kazack sat gazing at the hulking figure of the largest, most ferocious wolf he had ever seen. And it stood on two legs.

The general collapsed in terror.

When he awoke, he was in the forest, tied up to a tree.

Beside him were Captain Asami and Colonel Esmitch.

And before them, stood Yusuf.

“I will let you go unharmed,” Yusuf said, his voice calm.

“But you must promise — never again will you terrorize the people of this land.”

Kazack, Asami, and Esmitch nodded furiously.

“If I find out you have broken your vow…” Yusuf stepped closer, raising his clawed hand. “…I will return. And this time, no one will ever find your bodies.”

The men swore an oath. Yusuf cut their palms with his wolf’s claw, making each of them seal their promise with their own blood.

Then, he set them free.

The next morning, Kazack and his men fled the country.

The soldiers left behind woke to an empty camp, their leaders gone, their enemies vanished.

The legend of the Two-Legged Wolf swept the countryside. And the violence and attacks against the villagers stopped. Just like that.

And as for Yusuf?

He continued to wander.

The End.

A long time ago when the world was not so old, the Jaguar was the lord of the forest. 

He hunted and ate all of the other animals. He ate sloths and capybaras and condors and caimans. And monkeys and anacondas and tapirs and toucans. The Jaguar ate piranhas, vultures, anteaters, ocelots, vipers, and iguanas, too. He ate everything he could find.

But the Jaguar grew tired of eating these jungle animals. He wanted something new and different. 

In search of knowledge, he went to see the wisest animal in the forest, the Howler Monkey. 

The Howler sat way up on a high tree branch. When he saw the Jaguar coming, he shouted down to him. 

“Have you come to climb this tree and eat me, Jaguar? For if you have, know that it is a long distance from the ground.”

“No, I have not come to eat you, Howler,” said the Jaguar. “I seek your wise counsel.”

The Howler raised an eyebrow. “What is it you wish to ask, Jaguar?”

The Jaguar answered. “As you know, I am the lord of this forest. No animal that crawls on the ground, swims in the river, or flies in the sky can escape my cravings. But my belly has grown restless, and I hunger for something more.”

“You should be careful, Jaguar,” said the Howler. “Your desires lead you down a dangerous path.”

The Jaguar became angry at this. “I have hunted and eaten every animal in the forest, and none have escaped my jaws. What dangers do I, the mighty Jaguar, have to fear?”

The monkey rubbed his chin whiskers. “Perhaps there is one creature you have yet to eat,” said the Howler. 

The Jaguar was curious. “Tell me of whom you speak, Howler, and I promise to never eat you.”

“It is said the rarest animal of the wilderness is the Jackalope.” The Howler’s face turned serious. “But be careful, Jaguar. The Jackalope is small but very clever. He will try to trick you.” 

The Jaguar did not listen. He was already sprinting into the jungle on the hunt for his new prey. 

He searched for many moons without seeing a trace of the mysterious Jackalope. Then one sunny afternoon he spotted the creature sitting in the shadow of a cliff holding up a large stone.

The Jaguar crept up on the Jackalope and prepared to pounce. 

Then the Jackalope spoke. 

“I would not do that if I were you,” said the Jackalope. “This stone holds up the sun. If you eat me, I will drop the stone and the sun will crash into the forest and kill us both.” 

The Jaguar was surprised and worried. “How can this be? If you get tired and drop the stone, it will be the end of the forest.”

“That is true,” said the Jackalope. “But I have a plan. You are very strong, Jaguar. You can help me. Come and hold this stone while I find a log we can use to prop it up. If you get tired, shake this banana tree. I have big ears and I will hear the leaves rustle and come running to you.”

The Jaguar took the stone and held it up with his paws. And the Jackalope hopped off into the forest. 

For a long time the Jaguar waited, holding the stone and thinking of all the ways to enjoy eating the Jackalope when he returned. After a while, he grew tired and the stone grew heavy. So he reached out with his paw and shook the banana tree.

But the shaking banana tree disturbed a nest of giant hornets, who came buzzing out of the tree, stinging the Jaguar in a hundred places. The Jaguar dropped the stone and ran into the bushes to escape. When he finally had a moment to rest, he realized that the sun did not fall to the earth. 

“The Jackalope has tricked me!” he shouted to no one in particular. Then he silently cursed the animal and made a vow to hunt him down and get his revenge. 

For many moons, the Jaguar searched the forest for the Jackalope until one day he found the creature alone standing by a lake, kicking small pebbles into the water. 

Once again, the Jaguar crept quietly up on the Jackalope, preparing to pounce with all his strength and eat the Jackalope for a snack. But the Jackalope spoke first. 

“Hello Jaguar!” said the Jackalope. “What are you doing here?” 

“You tricked me, Jackalope,” replied the Jaguar. “For that, I am going to enjoy eating you.” He took a few steps toward the Jackalope. 

“You know, I have always dreamed of swimming in this beautiful lake, Jaguar,” said the Jackalope. “But I cannot do it. There is nothing in this forest I fear more than drowning.”

This gave the Jaguar an idea about how to get back at the Jackalope. He smiled as he stalked closer and closer to the small animal. 

The Jackalope held up his paws in defense. “I am sorry for tricking you, Jaguar. You are right to eat me. As a matter of fact, you can skin me and roast me over an open flame, or boil me in a big pot of stew. Just as long as you do not throw me in that water. I am so afraid of drowning.”

The Jaguar laughed. “I will teach you a lesson for crossing the lord of the forest,” he said. Then the Jaguar leapt. He picked up the Jackalope in his giant paws and threw him as far as he could way out into the lake. 

There was a terrible thrashing and splashing as the Jackalope screamed for help. Then he sank below the surface, and the water was still. The Jaguar watched in silence before turning back toward the forest. 

Suddenly, there was a splashing sound and the Jackalope appeared in the middle of the lake, floating on his back and swimming with ease. He shouted back to the shore. “Jaguar, I never said I did not know how to swim. I said I was scared of drowning. But everyone knows that Jackalopes are excellent swimmers.” In a few strokes, the Jackalope reached the other side of the lake and disappeared into the trees. 

The Jaguar was furious. This was the second time he had been fooled by the Jackalope. He swore he would get his revenge even if it was the last thing he ever did. 

For many moons, the Jaguar searched long and hard for the Jackalope, but without any luck. Then, in the late dry season, he came upon the creature in a small clearing. The Jackalope was whistling a tune and making a huge pile of sticks. 

Failing to contain his excitement, the Jaguar charged directly into the clearing. The Jackalope heard him coming and spoke. 

“Jaguar, what a relief it is to see you here!” he shouted. 

The Jaguar stopped and stared in anger. “You have fooled me twice, Jackalope. Now it is time for me to satisfy my desires.”

“I understand,” said the Jackalope. “I was wrong to trick you, and you are right to want to eat me. But before you do, I have a deal to offer you. I am collecting these sticks to build a nest for the Yacumama, the famous serpent of the river. If you help me, I will lead you to her lair.”

“What trickery is this?” said the Jaguar. “The Yacumama does not exist! It is but a myth.”

“And you did not think Jackalopes existed, either, my friend,” said the Jackalope. “How can you be the true lord of the forest if you have not defeated the great Yacumama?”

The Jaguar scratched his jaw in thought. “Why do you need my help?” he asked.

“I am just a small Jackalope and you are very big and strong. You can carry many more sticks to the Yacumama’s lair. When we arrive, the Yacumama will be happy to receive this gift. Then you can surprise her, and eat us both!”

The Jaguar thought about it for a moment and accepted the deal. He wanted to prove once and for all that he was indeed the mightiest animal in all the forest. 

So the Jackalope piled the sticks on the Jaguar’s back and then picked up a pile for himself. The two of them walked together through the forest for a time. A few moments later, the Jackalope grew very tired. 

“Jaguar, I am very tired from all this walking, and you are strong. Let me ride on your back for a while and rest.” The Jaguar nodded his head and the Jackalope jumped on his back. 

“How much further do we have to go?” asked the Jaguar. 

“It is just up ahead where you see the smoke coming from the trees,” said the Jackalope. He pointed to a cloud of smoke in the distance. 

After a while, they realized the forest around them was on fire. Terrified, the Jaguar began to run to escape the fire but the weight of the sticks and the Jackalope slowed him down. 

“After all the trouble you have put me through, I am going to enjoy eating you, Jackalope,” growled the Jaguar. 

At that very moment, the Jackalope grabbed a burning tree branch and dropped it onto the pile of sticks on the Jaguar’s back. When the sticks ignited into a fire, the Jackalope jumped off the Jaguar’s back. But just as he did this, the Jaguar stumbled on a root and flipped over, landing in a flaming pile of sticks on top of the Jackalope. 

The fire grew larger and the little Jackalope burned to a crisp. Escaping from the blaze, the Jaguar ran yelping and screaming into the woods, with the fire still smoldering on his back. 

To this very day, the Jaguar is still the lord of the forest. When you see him, the Jaguar is covered in black fur the color of burned ashes. But as long as you live, you will never ever see another Jackalope. 

The End.

Matthew was a good kid who always did his homework. Sometimes he stayed up late to finish it. On one such night, he was doing his homework when something got his attention from outside the window.

He went to take a closer look and saw a streaking red light flash across the sky and go down in the woods just north of the town where Matthew lived.

It was an amazing sight to see, but it happened so fast he wasn’t sure if he imagined it. He didn’t give it another thought. He went back to finishing his homework and then went to bed. 

The next day after school, again he was doing his homework when he received a phone call. It was Matthew’s father. His voice sounded strange. 

“Matthew,” he said. “You've been very bad. You need to behave yourself or you're going to be in big trouble.”

“But dad,” answered Matthew. “What are you talking about? I'm doing my homework right now.”

His father replied. “Matthew, you've been very, very bad.”

“What did I do wrong?” said Matthew.

“Matthew,” his father’s voice hardened. “You're going to be in big trouble.”

Matthew didn't know what to say, but he heard a noise outside. He glanced out the window to see his mother walking in. 

When he put the phone back to his ear, the line was dead. It was a weird experience. 

Later that day, Matthew told his mother about the call and asked where his dad was. She told him his father was out of town on a business trip.

“Whoever it was on the phone, I’m sure it wasn’t your father,” said his mom. 

“But it sounded just like him, Mom,” said Matthew. 

“That's a strange phone call,” she replied. “Are you sure it wasn’t a prank call?”

“It was his voice,” said Matthew. “Trust me, I know my own dad’s voice.”

“Well, he didn’t say anything about it to me,” said his mother.

“Do you think I've been bad, Mom?” asked Matthew. 

Matthew's mother smiled. “Just the opposite, Matthew. You've been great. Your grades are good and we’re very happy with how you've been doing lately.”

“It’s just so bizarre, Mom.” Matthew said. She shrugged and they didn’t say another word about it. 

The next day in school Matthew was walking down the hallway between classes when he saw his father at the far end of the hall. He waded through the crowds of students to get to him.

He watched his father enter the principal's office which had glass windows so you could see into it. From outside the office, Matthew saw his father speaking to the school principal. He waved at his dad to get his attention.

But his father just looked directly at him and didn't say a word. He gave no sign he even recognized Matthew.

Matthew was worried, but then the bell rang and he had to run to his next class.

Once again, that night when he got home, Matthew told his mother all about what happened at school.

“Matthew, are you sure you’re feeling alright?” she asked him. 

“Mom, there's absolutely nothing wrong with me,” said Matthew. “I'm just telling you what I saw.”

“Well, I can tell you right now, that was definitely not your father at school today,” Matthew's mother said. “It must have been someone else who looks like him.”

“But Mom—” Matthew started to say.

“It’s just not possible because your dad is out of town,” she said in a tone that meant she was done talking about it. 

Matthew didn't want to argue, and he didn't want to upset his mother. So he dropped the issue. But he knew for a fact it was his father he saw at school.

How does a boy not recognize his own father?

The next morning in school, Matthew’s teacher told him the principal wanted to see him. Matthew went to the principal's office, where the principal sat him down. Then he stared at Matthew with a hard look. 

“You have been very, very bad,” said the principal. “And you’re in big trouble.”

“What?” Matthew said. “What did I do?”

The principal picked up a sheet of paper and read off a list of terrible things that Matthew had done. He spoke in a low voice without emotion.

“You stole from the locker next to yours. You punched Billy Chansky in the face. You cheated on your math test. You called Dave Wilson names in front of the other students.”

Matthew interrupted the reading. “These are all lies. None of this is true.”

“You’ve been very bad,” the principal said again. “And you’re in big trouble.”

“I didn't do any of these things,” exclaimed Matthew. “I don’t know who is telling you this stuff, but it’s simply untrue.”

The principal sat and stared at him, and his eyes looked darker. 

“It’s ok, Matthew, you don't have to lie,” he said. “Your father was here, and he told me everything. He said you two have already talked about it.”

Matthew’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s ridiculous!”

“Calm down, son,” the principal said. “Your father said you already admitted to being very bad. In fact, Matthew, it is only out of respect for your father that we're not going to expel you from school. But you will be suspended for 10 days.”

Matthew attempted to argue but the principal held up his hand. “The decision has already been made. Now call your parents and have them pick you up.”

Matthew didn't know what to say. It was astonishing. He was a straight-A student with no problems whatsoever. He never hit any of his classmates, stole from anyone, or cheated on a test.

It was all a complete lie.

But what did his father have to do with it? Why was his father speaking to the principal and telling him terrible things that weren’t true? 

Matthew called his mother but no one answered. Then he tried his father's phone but his father didn't pick up.

After a minute, the principal came back into the room and said, “Matthew, your dad's here to pick you up.”

“But I didn’t even speak with him,” said Matthew.

“He's outside waiting for you,” the principal said flatly.

Matthew walked to the front of the school and, sure enough, his father was there in the family station wagon. Matthew got in the car and said, “Dad, what's going on?”

His father didn't say a word. He just drove the car away. He drove for some time while both of them sat in silence.

Finally, Matthew said, “Dad, please talk to me. What is going on here?”

“Keep your mouth shut,” his father replied. 

“Dad, I don’t understand,” said Matthew. 

“I said keep your mouth shut,” his father said, this time with an edge. 

Matthew was quiet. He had never heard his dad speak like that before. 

A minute later, they drove past Matthew’s house. Now Matthew was getting scared.

“Where are we going, Dad?” he asked.

But his father didn't answer.

“Dad, you're really creeping me out. We just passed home.” Matthew was pleading with him. “Where are you taking me?”

Then his father said, “I warned you, Matthew. You’ve been very bad and now you’re in big trouble.” 

They kept driving for a while. Every time Matthew tried to say something, his father ignored him.

The whole situation was getting scarier. Matthew didn’t know what to do. His father had a weird look on his face as he drove the car further and further away from home.

Eventually they had been driving for two hours, and it was starting to get dark outside. Matthew was extremely worried. He loved his father and couldn’t dream of him doing something like this. It was too hard to believe.

Finally, he decided he had to get out of the car.

“Dad, I have to go to the bathroom,” he said. “Pull over.”

“No,” his father said.

A few minutes went by. Then Matthew said, “Dad, I'm not kidding. If you don't pull over now, I'm going to have an accident in the car.”

His father stopped the car, got out, and walked around to open the door for Matthew. He walked right next to him as Matthew found a nearby bush.

Matthew turned to his father and said, “Dad, a little privacy please?”

Finally his dad stopped staring at Matthew and turned around to face the other direction.

Matthew pretended to do his business, then suddenly turned and sprinted directly into the woods.

Matthew didn't know where he was going. He only knew that he needed to get away. And fast.

There was something deep inside of him telling him to run away from his father. 

So he ran as fast as he could deeper into the woods.

After he’d run for a while, he thought he had gotten away. But then he heard his father's voice through the trees. It was the strangest way he'd ever heard his father speak.

“MATTHEW. Come back, Matthew. You have been very, very bad. Turn around now and come back.”

His father’s voice ended in a kind of growl, almost like there was a second voice inside of him.

It was terrifying. But Matthew didn't stop to think about it. He just kept running until he saw lights up ahead.

Finally he came into a clearing and saw a house. He ran straight up to the house and knocked on the door.

A little old lady answered. Breathing heavily from the run, Matthew asked her if he could come in. She let him inside, and he told her someone was chasing him and he needed to use the phone.

The lady walked him to her phone, and Matthew called his mother.

His mother answered. She sounded very worried, “Matthew, where are you? What is going on?”

“Mom, I’m really scared. I need you to come get me,” Matthew said. 

“What, where? I don't understand. The school didn't know where you were. I can't find your father. What the heck is going on?”

“Mom, please calm down,” Matthew said. “I’m in some trouble and you gotta come get me fast.”

“Where are you?” she asked. 

“I'm in the middle of nowhere,” Matthew replied. “Dad brought me here. Something's wrong with him.”

Matthew tried his best to explain where he was. But he didn’t really know. He turned around to ask the lady for her address. 

His father was standing there. Just looking at him. 

Matthew froze. His father’s eyes were dark.

Then his father reached over and yanked the phone from Matthew’s hand. The old lady was nowhere to be seen. 

They both stood there silently for a few seconds, looking at each other.

Matthew noticed the headlights of the family station wagon waiting outside. He made a run for it.

His father had left the vehicle running. Matthew ran past his father, straight out the door, and jumped in the car. He was not old enough to drive but he had watched his parents do it plenty of times.

He slammed his foot on the gas pedal and took off out of there as fast as he could go. He drove all the way back to the highway and somehow found his way home.

When Matthew arrived at the house, he got out and told his mom everything.

His mother didn't understand. She was terrified, worried, and nervous.

He could tell she'd been crying.

But Matthew calmed her. “Mom, I don’t understand any of this, either. But we need to get help.”

They called the police. And the man who answered the phone told them to come to the police station immediately. 

Matthew and his mother drove to the police station, but they realized that something strange was going on. The police station was totally empty except for one officer at the front desk.

They told him the situation and asked to file a missing person's report.

But the police officer just stared at them. He didn’t say a word for a long moment. His eyes were dark and distant like Matthew’s father’s.

Finally, he asked them, “Have you been very bad?”

“What are you talking about?” Matthew’s mother said. “We need help, officer.”

He replied, “You’re both in big trouble.”

They were stunned, and didn’t know what to say. 

Suddenly, right in front of their eyes, the police officer started to shake, and his face started to twitch. His skin began to bubble and vibrate, like there was something beneath it. His color began to change and become black, and his eyes turned to dark holes. The police officer was rapidly shifting into something…not human.

Matthew and his mother both gasped in shock, but instincts took over. Without saying a word, they turned around and ran. They got out of the police station and jumped back in the car. His mother peeled out of the parking lot with the tires screeching. 

As they drove through the center of town, they noticed another strange thing.

The entire town was empty. All the lights were off, there was no one in the streets, and there were no cars on the road.

There was nothing going on, no movement or sign of life anywhere. 

The entire city had just emptied out.

They had no idea how to explain any of it. Then Matthew remembered the streak of light he had seen a couple of nights earlier.

He told his mom about it. She thought about it for a while as she drove them in circles around the city. 

“Matthew, what do you think it was?” she asked. 

“I don’t know, Mom,” he said. “But a lot of people are acting very strangely and I’m really scared.”

“It’s ok, honey,” she said in a calming voice. “We’re going to be fine. We just need to find someplace safe to rest and figure out what to do next.”

They drove a little ways outside the city to a big state park, where they could park at a campsite and get some rest. They slept in the car. Or, at least, they tried to sleep. 

The next morning the sun came up and it was looking like it would be a beautiful day. 

“I don't know what's going on, but I think we have to go back to town,” Matthew said to his mother. “We gotta get to the bottom of this and find Dad.”

“You're right, Matthew,” she said. “Something very weird is happening in our town, but there’s no use trying to hide from it.”

They got in the car and drove back into town. They immediately noticed there was no activity, no sign of anyone. All the businesses were closed up, the houses had no activity, and there was no one on the street. It was like a ghost town. 

The car was running low on gas. So they parked downtown in a public parking lot. The two of them got out and walked around to see if they could find anyone.

When they got to Main Street, they couldn’t believe their eyes. 

There was a single file line of people walking up the street to the north. The line was so long, they couldn’t see where it started or ended. There must have been a thousand people walking in line. 

None of the people were talking. They weren’t doing anything. Just slowly walking step by step by step toward some unknown point in the distance. 

Matthew and his mother looked closer and recognized people they knew. It was all the people in their town. Matthew saw classmates, teachers, neighbors, and friends.

It was everyone in town, all together, just ambling forward, straight to the north with their heads down, in a single file line.

No one said a word.

In the past 24 hours, Matthew had seen some weird stuff. But this was the creepiest sight he’d ever seen. It got creepier. 

They spotted Matthew’s father walking with the crowd.

Matthew wanted to say something to him. But his mother put her hand over his mouth. “No,” she said. “Let's not call attention to ourselves. Something is wrong here.”

The two of them took cover behind a park bench and waited for a while. They watched the people walk by for a long time. Finally, the last person walked by at the end of the line. Matthew’s mother suggested they follow them to find out where they were going.

Without getting too close, they followed the massive line all the way out of town toward the north end of the city. 

They eventually came to a wooded area, and one-by-one the line of people walked straight into the trees, until everyone disappeared into the darkness. Then the street was empty.

Matthew and his mother stood there waiting to see if anything else would happen. But nothing did for a long time.

The street was quiet. There were no sounds, no birds chirping. All was still. 

Then they saw the shape of a man come out of the woods. His figure was dark, like he was wearing a long black coat.

As he stepped out into the sunlight, they realized it wasn't a man at all.

It was something else.

Its body moved like flowing water. The length of its arms and legs was different from a normal person. Its face was like something they'd never seen.

It had deep coal-colored eyes and misshapen facial features that did not look human.

The figure swayed when it moved, like a jellyfish in air. It looked this way and that, and then suddenly it's cold black eyes locked on Matthew and it stared at him for a long moment.

The creature’s eyes stayed on him, until Matthew realized it wasn't looking at him at all.

It was looking behind him. Right at his mother.

Matthew turned around slowly. “Mom!” he cried. “We gotta go right now.” 

But his mother didn't say anything. She just stared back at the creature. Then she looked at Matthew with no joy and said, “Matthew, you've been very bad.”

“No, mom, no, no, no,” he cried. “Come on, we gotta go.”

“Matthew, you're in big trouble,” she said in a strange voice.

His mother grabbed him by the wrist and started pulling him as she walked towards the creature.

Matthew resisted. He fought and screamed and pulled back at her.

“Stop it, Mom, stop!” he shouted at her.

Then his mother’s body started shifting. Her eyes went dark and her skin started bubbling and moving. She began to shake violently. And her color began to change.

Petrified, Matthew managed to rip his arm away from her. He sprinted as fast as he could down the street in the other direction. He found an alleyway and ran out of sight.

He had no idea what to do, but he hid for a long time.

When he finally had the courage to come out, he quietly walked back to the street to see if anyone was there. But the street was empty again. There was no sign of his mother or the dark creature. 

Then the ground started to shake beneath him.

He looked toward the forest and saw the trees were swaying. Everything was shaking, and Matthew thought it was an earthquake.

There was a rumbling sound that got louder and louder. 

It became a roar.

A flash of light exploded from inside the forest, and an enormous black shape emerged above the trees. Matthew suddenly stood beneath a growing shadow.  

It was a giant ship of some sort, just hovering in the air. It must have been the size of a football field.

Matthew stared up at it until he realized the sides of the craft were some kind of clear glass. He could see right through the surface of it. 

Then he saw the faces of everyone he knew. He saw his teacher, the principal, his friends Dave and Billy. He recognized his mother and father. They seemed to be looking directly at him.

In the blink of an eye, the ship launched into space like a rocket. It moved faster than anything on earth can move, and disappeared.

Matthew was left there all alone, standing and looking up, trying to understand what had happened.

Then he heard a voice from behind him. “Matthew, you’ve been very, very bad.”

He turned around, and there was the dark creature standing in front of him. Its black eyes stared out of its hideous, oily face. The creature began to open its mouth, exposing thousands of razor sharp teeth and a slimy tongue. Matthew felt something grab his shoulder hard. He closed his eyes in terror and that was all he remembered. 

When Matthew regained consciousness, his father was sitting in front of him, next to his bed. He was gently shaking Matthew’s shoulder.

“Come on, buddy, wake up,” his father said. “You’re gonna be late for school.”

His father smiled. Sun peeked through his bedroom window. Matthew knew that everything was going to be alright.

He got up and gave his father the biggest hug he’d ever given him. 

Then his father’s smile disappeared and his eyes went dark. 

“Matthew,” he said. “You’ve been very bad.”

Eugene was a boy who was fascinated by building things. 

When he was very young, he started out with building blocks. Later, he would go outside and use sticks and rocks to construct houses and roads and tall buildings and even cities. Then he upgraded to Legos, which he used to put together elaborate structures he designed himself. There was nothing he couldn’t construct. 

His parents were a bit worried that he showed so little interest in anything else. He didn’t have any friends, never played sports, and didn’t care at all about video games or TV. Quite simply, Eugene was obsessed with building. 

His parents encouraged Eugene’s hobby, of course, buying him tools and toys and different types of erector sets to let his imagination run wild. But over time, it started to become a concern. Other kids bullied Eugene. They called him “Brickie the Bricklayer” and “Yucky Eugene” because his hands were always covered in dirt and dust and other grit from building.

Eventually, Eugene began to learn more about construction and engineering. He studied math and science and geometry and algebra and trigonometry and calculus. He got smarter and smarter until he was taking on amazing and complicated projects at home. He built a huge tree fort in the backyard, with pulleys to lift you up and slides that could take you to the ground in seconds. He also helped his dad build a new garage for his car. He even started working on plans to build a new house.

One day, Eugene’s parents came to him and said, “Eugene, you need to do something more with this gift of yours.” So Eugene did some research and found out about the Builders Academy in Europe. It was known as the greatest school for builders in the whole world. Only the best engineers and architects studied there. 

After talking it through with his parents, Eugene put together an application and sent it to the Builders Academy. As part of his application, he proposed to build the greatest castle ever conceived, inspired by the most wondrous palaces in Medieval European history. He even included blueprints in his application.

After many weeks of waiting, Eugene got a letter back from the academy. It said his application was rejected. They said they liked his plans but no one needs castles anymore. Instead, they encouraged him to think about building something more important. He could apply again in one year. 

Eugene was crushed, but he didn't give up. He studied and studied and a year later he applied again. This time he proposed to build the tallest skyscraper ever constructed. It would be so big you could see it from miles away. Planes and helicopters could stop on the roof to let passengers on and off and to refuel. Once again, he put together the blueprints and detailed plans for how he would build it.

Eugene waited and waited nervously. Every day he would walk down to the end of his long driveway and check the mailbox for news. It seemed as if time slowed down. Then one day, a letter arrived from the academy. Eugene could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he reached to open the envelope. 

He opened the letter and couldn't believe his eyes. They accepted Eugene’s application! The letter said they would welcome him at the Builders Academy and let him build his skyscraper. There was only one condition. He needed to respond within three days to accept his admission.

Eugene was so excited he could hardly contain himself. He started dancing with joy in the middle of the street. But he wasn't paying attention. Just then a car raced by and crashed into him, sending Eugene flying through the air. He blacked out. 

When Eugene woke up, he was in a hospital bed. His mouth was wired shut from a broken jaw. Both arms and both legs were broken and wrapped up in hard casts. He couldn't talk, he couldn’t use his hands, and he couldn't walk. Worst of all, the letter from the Builders Academy was nowhere to be seen, and Eugene had no way to tell anyone about it. He couldn't speak or write a note. He had no way to prove the letter even existed. And he only had three days to respond to the school.

Needless to say, Eugene missed the deadline and never went to the Builders Academy. In fact, he was facing a long road to recovery. He spent an entire year in physical therapy learning to walk again. He had to take food through a straw for months until his jaw healed and he could eat properly again. None of it was easy.

After more than two years, Eugene had finally healed. But he was permanently disabled from his injuries. He had a limp to his walk, and had to use a cane everywhere he went. His whole body was crippled from the accident, which made it very difficult to build anything. 

But Eugene never gave up hope and he never stopped dreaming his dream. No matter how many people told him he couldn't become a master builder, he kept coming up with ideas and drawing up blueprints. 

Then one night he was watching the news on TV when he saw a fascinating story. The richest man in the world, Nehru West, had announced a global contest. He would give $1 billion dollars in cash to whomever could come up with the greatest idea to help improve the world. 

Eugene had an idea, and he wrote a letter to Nehru West. 

Weeks went by and Eugene didn’t hear anything. He was very careful walking to the mailbox and back each day checking for a letter. Then one day, a letter arrived from West’s company. Eugene had been chosen as one of three finalists to win the contest. He was invited to Hollywood to appear on a TV show and present his idea to the world. The audience would then vote on the contestant with the best idea. Eugene couldn’t dance with joy like before, but he felt like he was dancing on air.

Time passed and Eugene spent every day preparing for the contest. He put everything he had into his project. When the day finally came, Eugene got on a plane and flew to Hollywood. He was almost too nervous to think. He wasn’t eating or sleeping. All he could think about was his plan. 

The show started. One by one, the contestants were introduced and asked to present their ideas. 

The first was a boy from Brazil who had an idea to make a rocket ship that would travel the solar system to study outer space. The best part, his rocket ship would be made out of recycled garbage. The whole audience ooh’d and aah’d when they saw his designs.

The second contestant was a little girl from China who said she would build a bridge that would cross the Pacific ocean and the Atlantic ocean and connect everyone in the world. She said it could be built with a series of flexible interconnected parts made out of giant sponges. Her idea was well received by the crowd.

Finally, it was Eugene’s turn to present. He slowly shuffled up to the stage. Right as he got to the podium he got his feet tangled up and tripped and fell on his face. The whole crowd exploded with laughter. It was very embarrassing. 

But Eugene was no stranger to failure. He didn't even hesitate. He stood up, brushed off his pants, and pulled a little device from his pocket. This device, he told the crowd, held the plans that would change the world. 

Then he pushed a little red button on it. And it suddenly started shooting laser lights into the air. The lasers turned into pictures in a dozen colors. They were virtual blueprints for a massive construction project. 

Eugene used a laser show to present the creation of an entire new city. The city had walkways and skyways and tunnels everywhere for pedestrians to get around. It had tubes connecting all the buildings so that people with disabilities could jump in little carts that would take them anywhere in the city in minutes. There were large gardens built into and on top of all the buildings so that every place in the city had a beautiful park for people to enjoy the outdoors and for families to play in. All the farms and factories could be kept adjacent to the city and all the pollution and waste were sucked through pipes and taken into a chamber where they were converted into energy and used to power everyone’s electricity. 

Eugene had created the designs for a whole new city. A dream city where everyone could live and work and be happy together, no matter who they were or where they were from or what they did. 

He called it Eugene’s Gift. It was a place where no dream was too big to dream. 

When Eugene finished presenting, there was a full silence for a few seconds. Then the crowd roared its approval. Eugene won the contest with 99% of the votes. Nehru West, the richest man in the world came on stage and gave Eugene a hug. He told him right then that he would fund the project to build Eugene’s Gift.

After five years of more hard work, Eugene built the dream city. It eventually became known as the most beautiful and powerful city in the world. After that, every other city copied its thoughtful designs and ingenious constructions. Everyone everywhere came to know “Eugene the Builder” as the greatest builder in history. 

A very long time ago in a far away land not so different from our own, there was once a peaceful and prosperous kingdom called Tetra. Tetra was ruled by a wise king, who was fair and just and well-liked by his people. 

The land of Tetra was blessed with vast farms that produced abundant crops, forests full of wild game, rivers teeming with fish, and a grand marketplace in the palace square where people came from far and wide to buy and sell goods. It was a healthy and happy kingdom at peace with its neighbors. Times were good in Tetra. 

But of all its riches and good fortunes, the most beloved treasure of Tetra was the daughter of the king, Princess Carol. Carol was kind and beautiful, with curly black hair and a curious smile. Only 12 years old, she often traveled around the kingdom talking to common people and helping them with their problems. She treated everyone equally, from the farm workers and soldiers to the merchants and noblemen. In return, everyone in the kingdom loved Carol and looked forward to the day when she would rule as queen. 

What they didn't know about Carol—in fact, what very few knew—was that Carol had a special power. She had dreams that came true. Sometimes the dreams were silly and harmless. But other times they were nightmares. 

The first time it happened was when Carol was only five years old. It was around midsummer, and Carol dreamt that a massive ice storm hit the castle and damaged the highest tower. 

The next day was sunny and pleasant, and Carol’s governess suggested spending the afternoon outside the palace walls. Carol refused to go for fear of the coming storm. The governess and Carol’s court maidens all laughed at the thought. But a short time later, a large black cloud appeared over the city and pounded Tetra with a downpour of hail and ice. The storm nearly destroyed an entire wing of the castle, including the highest tower. 

After hearing this news, the king commanded that the story of Carol’s dream never be spoken of again. He appointed a special tutor named Stephen to help instruct Carol and train her to become a queen. Stephen was patient and wise, and learned in math, science, and letters. He also knew a few things about magic, and showed Carol many tricks and simple spells. Stephen was the perfect guide to the curious but often troubled young princess. 

For the next seven years, Stephen spent every day with Carol, providing knowledge and counsel, but also lending an ear to listen and the warmth of a friend. She trusted him with the secrets of her dreams, and he helped her interpret the messages and deal with their mysteries. The dreams were a heavy burden for the princess. 

One morning, Carol came to Stephen with dark news. She had dreamed of a faceless man in a black robe who brought war and plague to the kingdom. In the dream, the dark man had two shiny emeralds for eyes, and he arrived to the sound of clashing metal and the smell of fire. His coming brought sadness and woe to the kingdom.

After calming Carol, Stephen went to the king to deliver a warning about this bad omen. But the king was not available, and instead Stephen was interrogated by the king’s high chancellor, Derion. 

The next day, when Carol showed up for her morning lessons, an old woman greeted her and introduced herself as Carol’s new tutor. It was time for a new chapter in Carol’s education, she said. And Stephen was gone. 

Many days passed, and Carol eventually gave up looking for Stephen. She began to prepare for her 13th birthday, which was an important milestone. Carol would be made princess regent of Tetra, officially marking her as the next in line for the throne. The king scheduled a huge celebration to mark the occasion. 

The night before the celebration, Carol had another ominous dream. In it, she was sitting in a dark chamber holding a large and beautiful pearl. The pearl pulsed with energy and light, but Carol could not maintain her grasp of it, and she dropped it into the darkness. She looked everywhere for the pearl but could not find it. Then she heard screams of pain and weeping, as though coming from all corners of the kingdom. Through the darkness and amidst the cries of anguish, she saw the man in the black robe appear and close in on her, his shiny emerald eyes freezing her in place. Then she woke up in a sweat. 

The next day, Princess Carol turned 13. Nearly everyone in the kingdom of Tetra, as well as many visitors from foreign kingdoms, was on hand to witness the royal birthday celebration. There was music and dancing, food and fancy dresses. Before long, the king called for the crowd’s attention. 

He told of his ancestors who settled the land of Tetra and ruled it for a thousand years. There were good times and bad times, but always his people managed to pass their legacy to the next generation. And now it was time to do it again. 

Then the king slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful golden ring adorned with a large pearl. This ring, he said, was given to him by his father, who received it from his own father before him. It was believed that this ring held the key to Tetra’s peace and prosperity, and whosoever possessed it, had power over the kingdom. 

The king gave the ring to his daughter and took a large bow before her. By royal proclamation, Carol was made princess regent of Tetra. She trembled with fear as she remembered her dream about the pearl in the darkness. 

Back in her room that night, Carol decided she didn't want the responsibility of ruling. In fact, she never wanted to see the pearl ring again. So she placed it in a little red box, and hid it beneath a floorboard under her bed. That night, she slept without dreams, but she woke up feeling anxious about the previous night. Having second thoughts about the ring, she checked on it to make sure it was safe and was horrified to learn the box was missing. In a panic, Carol searched her room backwards and forwards, looking in every drawer, every pocket, purse, and handbag. But the ring was nowhere to be found. 

Later that day, the royal doctor paid a visit to Carol to deliver more bad news. The king had taken sick, he said, and could not get out of bed. That afternoon, storm clouds rolled in and blanketed Tetra, and the sky turned black. Everyone in the palace was in a foul mood. 

For days the situation worsened. The king’s condition did not improve, and many others in the palace came down with the sickness. Meanwhile, the kingdom fell under an unseasonal freeze with constant gloomy skies. Farmers reported dying crops. Hunters and fishermen were desperate, as animals began to die of an unknown disease. The grand marketplace shut down for lack of customers. All the while, Princess Carol could not find the pearl ring anywhere and had quietly begun to resent her father for giving it to her. 

Several weeks passed and the surrounding towns and villages of Tetra were overflowing with talk of war. The king was said to be nearing the edge of death. Fear and despair took hold of the kingdom, and the princess regent was paralyzed by her own guilt and sadness. 

It was around this moment that the high chancellor Derion stormed into Carol’s chambers with an armed escort of the king’s fiercest soldiers. He proclaimed command of the castle and Tetra’s army, and demanded that the princess give him possession of the ring. Carol told him honestly that she didn’t know where the ring was, but he didn’t believe her. Instead, he arrested her and had her imprisoned in the castle’s high tower, where she shared a cell with the rats, birds, and frigid winds. 

From the highest point in Tetra, Carol looked upon her kingdom day after day and watched the once beautiful land descend into war and chaos. She witnessed fighting and cruelty, fields burning, buildings turned to rubble, families fleeing, and the constant sounds of pain and suffering. Months passed in sorrow. 

Then one day, as the princess sat at the window crying, she heard a strange voice from within the tower cell. 

“Why do you weep, princess?” it said. Carol looked around the cell but could not see anyone. “Down here, princess,” said the voice again, coming from below. Carol looked again and in the center of the room, a scrawny rat stared up at her, almost smiling. 

“Now I know I must be going mad,” she said. “For I’m talking to a rat.”

“But you haven’t answered my question, princess,” said the rat. 

“Why do I weep? Take a look around. My kingdom is in ruins. My father is sick and may be already dead. The pearl ring is lost. War and destruction are everywhere. And it’s all my fault. I’m a complete failure who should live to see the end of the once great kingdom of Tetra.” She began to sob. 

“That doesn’t sound like the confident princess and strong future queen that I know,” said the rat. 

The princess snapped at him sharply. “What do you know about anything? You’re just a scruffy rat!”

The rat’s eyes widened, and Carol saw something familiar in them. She immediately regretted her tone. “I know a great deal more about you than you think,” said the rat, now sounding very familiar indeed. 

“It can’t be…Stephen?” muttered the princess. 

“None other than,” said the rat, and gave a mock curtsy. “Like I said, I know you all too well.”

Carol was suddenly overcome with joy. She gathered the rat into her arms and hugged him. “Oh, Stephen, I’ve missed you so. But whatever happened to you?”

“It seems there are many inside the walls of this castle who do not like your special gift of vivid dreams, princess. For I was tricked into telling your secret to the high chancellor Derion, and he rewarded me by casting a wicked spell and turning me into this handsome rat you see before you.”

Carol laughed through tears. Happy to find her friend and teacher, she told Stephen everything that had happened since his disappearance, explaining that it all started with the dream and the missing pearl. Then Stephen had a realization. 

“I might know where the ring is,” he said. Stephen told Carol of a place called the rat bazaar, where all the four-legged scavengers of Tetra met underground to trade their prized possessions. “I think I’ve seen the red box you describe.” 

The princess held Stephen up to her eye and said, “I know you have suffered more than most, and I cannot ever change that, but will you go to the rat bazaar and retrieve the box for me?” 

“Princess,” replied Stephen. “I do not believe in the legends of the pearl ring. But I do believe in you. And I swore an oath to serve you, so your wish is my command.”

With that Stephen headed out of the chamber and down the long stairs, through a winding corridor, and into the shadows of the castle. For a rat, the journey was long and dangerous. He was nearly picked up in the talons of a dive-boming owl in the palace courtyard, and he had to sneak past several hungry cats near the servants’ quarters. But eventually he made it in one piece to the entrance of the rat bazaar. 

Once inside the market, Stephen approached a large, sinister-looking rat with yellow eyes and long claws. He asked where the most valuable treasures were kept, and was led to a corner in the back. There he spotted the red box, nearly buried under a pile of trinkets. 

“What do you want for that box?” he asked the yellow-eyed rat. 

“I do not think you can afford that one,” said the creature in a snide tone. 

“What is it you desire most?” asked Stephen. 

“In these dark times, there is one thing rats desire above all else,” came the reply. “Cheese.”

Stephen twitched his whiskers. “I have no cheese to give you at the moment,” he said. “But I have something far better. I can get you access to the royal kitchen, where you will find the king’s personal stores, with more cheese than you could eat in a lifetime.”

The sinister rat laughed. “And how would a pathetic excuse for a rat such as yourself be able to pull off this miracle?” A small crowd of nasty looking rats had gathered by this time and were watching Stephen closely. 

Stephen straightened himself and said, “I’ve forgotten more about this castle than you will ever know, and besides, I know many tricks and secrets.” Then he snapped his tiny paws and conjured a small flame in the air, using a simple magic trick that terrified the pack of vile rodents. 

The big rat jumped back in fright, and then nodded his head in agreement. “Ok,” he said, “take the box, but remember to give us instructions on how to find the cheese.” 

Stephen promised to return later with the information. Then he loaded the box onto his back and scurried out of the market as fast as his little legs could carry him. 

It took hours to return to the high tower. Again, Stephen was attacked and nearly taken by the owl. He barely escaped a couple of filthy children who tried to stomp on him. At every turn he ducked, ditched, or dove out of the way of scampering boots and wheels, coming and going in every direction. Something was happening in the palace.

Stephen made it back to Carol with the box. When she opened it and saw the pearl ring, her eyes lit up with joy and relief. It did not last, however. 

Moments after Stephen’s return, Derion barged into the chamber with a group of soldiers. He was dressed in the black robe from Carol’s dreams. He snatched the box from the princess and sneered at her. 

“Filthy little liar,” he said. “I have no more need of you. Tetra has no more need of you. Tomorrow at noon, you and your father will meet the ax of the executioner.”

He turned to leave and then stopped for a moment. “Take comfort, girl. The kingdom is losing the war, but now that I have the pearl in my grasp, Tetra’s moment of glory is upon us. So in a way, you’ve saved the kingdom. Enjoy your last night, princess.” 

With that, Derion and the soldiers stormed out. Carol threw herself on the floor in tears. She lay there crying softly for a few moments. Then Stephen leapt into her hand and looked into her eyes. He smiled.

“Don’t give up hope, Carol,” he said. “All is not lost.” 

“How can you say that?” she replied. “Everything you did, it was all for nothing. Now we’re worse off than we were before.”

“No, princess, I don’t believe that,” said Stephen. “The girl I taught for so many years was kind and curious, cared deeply for the people of Tetra, and always looked on the bright side. I never thought it would be magic or legends or even dreams that would one day make you a great queen. I always thought it was your heart. And I can see from your sadness that you haven’t lost that.”

The princess wiped away her tears. “But what can I do? I’m stuck up here with nothing but a chair and a lumpy bed.” Then she suddenly had an idea. “Stephen, can you make me fall asleep?”

Stephen let out a squeaky rat laugh. He understood what she was asking, so he thought of a slumber spell. 

The princess fell into a deep sleep and had another vivid dream. She was once again sitting alone in a dark chamber, unable to see anything. Her hands were empty. She began to search the floor and found a pearl. Then she found another one. Then another. Suddenly she realized the floor of the room was covered in pearls. The darkness faded and sunlight burst into the room. She saw the figure of the black robe in the distance, now screaming in anger, as sunshine reflecting off the pearls seared into his eyes and turned his darkness into mist. Carol noticed then that she was surrounded by people, warm and smiling and embracing each other. 

She woke up with excitement and immediately told Stephen about the dream. Then she asked him for another favor. She needed him to round up every rat, bird, squirrel, cat, and critter of the castle, and then bring them to the royal chambers to raid the jewelry cabinets. Make sure, she said, that every gem, stone, and especially pearl was taken by the animals and brought to the palace square in time for the execution. “Wait for my signal,” she told him. 

The next morning, Derion’s soldiers tied Carol’s hands with rope and brought her to the palace square, where she joined the king, who was almost too sickly and weak to stand. A muscle-bound executioner sharpened his ax behind them. The entire kingdom filled the square to witness the sight. 

Derion appeared on the platform in front of the crowd, decked in his black robe. He held the pearl ring high so that all could see it. 

“We are here today because the royal family has failed Tetra. While your houses burn and your crops rot, they do nothing!” he shouted to the crowd. “But justice will be served! The pearl ring has come to me, so that now we can get on with the work of saving the kingdom and winning the war.” His words were met with a mix of boos and cheers. 

“We will start with the traitor princess, who cast away the pearl and cursed her kingdom to its fate,” he said. “Princess, do you have any last words?”

Carol mustered all her strength to stand tall and proud in front of her people. “It is true Derion has a pearl ring. But the one he possesses is false. He does not have the true pearl, and will never have the right to lead you.”

“You lie!” screamed Derion, enraged. 

“I do not lie,” she replied. “The pearl you have gives you no power. And I’m the only one who knows where the true pearl is.” She spotted Stephen in the crowd and the two made eye contact. Suddenly there were jeers from the spectators. 

“Tell me where the pearl is and I will spare the king his pitiful life,” said Derion, quaking with anger. 

“You will never know,” said the princess. “You are not worthy of knowing.” Then she gave a nod and a wink to Stephen. 

Suddenly, birds began to circle the crowd, dropping gems and jewels from the air onto the people below. Small animals skittered out from every nook and cranny in the square, flicking pearls all over the ground. People began to notice and gave shouts of surprise. Then all was a blur of bodies reaching and straining to get their hands on the miraculously appearing treasures. 

Drunk with power lust, Derion fell to his knees and scoured the mud for scattered pearls, screaming and cursing in anger. All attention to the execution was lost. During the distraction, Stephen gnawed through the princess’s ropes and set her hands free. She approached Derion from behind and took back the pearl ring without him even noticing. 

Carol stood upon the platform looking out over the crowd. She placed the pearl ring on her finger. 

“Beloved subjects of Tetra, I am sorry for your suffering,” she said, her voice suddenly carrying above the noise of the crowd. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at her. “I lost faith in myself, and I lost faith in you. But I ask you now to put the past behind us and help me rebuild our kingdom.” 

The crowd roared its approval. Then the skies opened up and a pouring rain fell, dousing the people and washing dirt and jewel alike into the gutters of the palace square. The sun shone through the clouds, and the sky turned a brilliant blue. Everyone went quiet. 

Derion, noticing the change in mood, raised his staff and shouted, “Seize her!” But no one moved. The palace soldiers just looked at him for a long moment. Then the masses closed in around him and lifted him into the air. A dozen men and women carried him to the palace gates and threw him out on his rear. That was the last anyone ever saw of the king’s high chancellor, Derion.

Just then, the crowd started into a chant: “Hail Carol! Long live the princess!”

Carol searched the palace for Stephen but couldn’t make him out. Then someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned to see her old friend and tutor, in human form, smiling ear to ear. They hugged for a long time before Carol ran to her father. Both were surprisingly standing upright, looking healthy and strong. 

“Father,” said Carol. “Can you ever forgive me for what I did? I’m so sorry for losing the pearl.”

The king had a puzzled look on his face. “You still don’t understand, Carol,” he said, as he pulled her into his arms. “You are the pearl.”

Tetra ended the war with its neighbors, and peace and prosperity returned to the kingdom. The people once again trusted and loved their king. A few years later, Carol became queen. With the help of her high chancellor Stephen, she ruled Tetra with kindness, wisdom, and love for her people. She always wore the pearl ring, as she knew a day would eventually come when she would need to pass it on. And she continued to dream. 

[Ed. note: This is an original story told by my late mother, Martha Campbell with updated words by me.]

Homer Globberschnoot was a little boy who lived with his parents in a nice house in a nice neighborhood in a very nice little town. 

Homer had everything a kid could want. Lots of toys, a great bicycle with racing stripes, and a kitchen that was always filled with good things to eat. 

There was just one problem. Homer had a sweet tooth. In fact it was more than a sweet tooth.

He just loved to eat junk food. But it wasn’t only candy and cake. He also loved Cheetos and Fritos and Doritos and all the other foods that end with “itos.” French fries and soda pop and milk shakes and pastries, Homer couldn’t get enough.

No matter how many times his parents told him to lay off the junk food, Homer didn’t listen. If it was unhealthy, he wanted to eat it.

One Sunday morning Homer woke up starving for a treat. So he ate a whole bag of peanut butter cookies for breakfast. He didn’t touch the food his mom made for him at lunch. Instead, he went into the kitchen when no one was looking and ate an entire raspberry cheesecake with whipped cream. He told his parents he wasn’t hungry at dinner time, but he snuck a box of chocolate covered donuts and a bag of potato chips into his room and scarfed them down before falling asleep in a pile of crumbs. 

His parents found out about it, of course. How could so much food go missing so quickly without anyone noticing? So they made a new rule. They told Homer that from now on he could only have one sweet per day.

Homer didn’t like this rule. So he thought of a plan.

The next day Homer played hooky from school and instead went to the convenience store. He loaded up his backpack with candy bars, grape soda, and cheese puffs. Then he told his mom and dad his bag was filled with books. When he got home, he locked himself in his room and stuffed his face. 

As the days passed, Homer gained weight. He didn’t like exercise, and he never ate fruits and vegetables. Homer got chubbier and chubbier. He was lazy, too, and he rarely changed his shirt, which was becoming too short to cover his belly. His room was cluttered with candy wrappers and dirty clothes. It looked like a pig sty. 

His parents were very concerned, so they made another rule. No more junk food, period. They would only buy healthy food from the grocery store, and Homer would be forced to eat his vegetables. 

When they told Homer about the new rule, he threw a huge temper tantrum and screamed at his parents. So they sent him to his room for the rest of the day. Homer didn’t want to eat yucky green stuff so he thought about it all evening. Then Homer came up with a new plan, more devious than the last one.

The next day Homer went to school like any normal day. But during recess, Homer snuck into the school cafeteria and found a big freezer. He spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the floor eating chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with his bare hands. When the school janitor found him lying in a pile of empty ice cream boxes, Homer ran away as fast as his plump little legs could carry him. 

He ran all the way home, sweating and snorting and covered head to toe in sticky chocolate smudge. When he got home, his mother saw the way he looked and screamed:

“HOMER, YOU LOOK LIKE A PIG!”

His father saw Homer’s dirty face and upturned nose and didn’t even recognize his own son. Homer’s parents were horrified. They gave him a bath and sat him down to have a talk. 

“Homer,” said his father. “I’m only going to warn you one last time. If you keep this up, you’ll be mistaken for a feral pig and locked away in an animal shelter.”

“Or taken to the slaughterhouse and turned into bacon!” added his mother. 

Homer cried himself to sleep that night. But not because he was ashamed of what he had done. He was sad that he didn’t even get the chance to finish all that ice cream. So Homer came up with another plan. This time, it was his master plan.

For the next few days, Homer behaved like a good boy, ate his vegetables, and somehow managed to avoid any sweets. Mr. and Mrs. Globberschnoot were very relieved that everything seemed to be going well. 

“We’re so proud of you, Homer!” his mother said. That’s when Homer knew the moment was right. 

He asked his parents if he could spend Saturday at the public library so he could read and do homework. Delighted by this, they offered to give him a ride. “See you later,” he told them with a smile when they dropped him off at the front of the library. But Homer had no interest in reading and books. 

No sooner had his parents driven away than Homer sprinted out the backdoor of the library, down the alley, and across the street to Fat Charlie’s Candy Shoppe. Homer paused for a moment in front of the store to bask in the light of the blinking neon sign. 

Then he entered the shop and went on a junk food binge the likes of which had never been seen before or since. 

Homer stuffed his face with handfuls of chocolates and licorice. He filled his pockets to the brim with gummy bears and sweet tarts, and then devoured an entire bin of jelly beans in one swallow. He gobbled, guzzled, and gulped everything he could get into his mouth before the shopkeeper noticed and started shouting for him to leave. 

Not wanting to repeat the mistake of leaving too many sweets uneaten, Homer shoveled piles of candy into his backpack before fleeing. Then the shopkeeper called the police. 

Caught up in a sugar rush, Homer ran down the alley and directly into a trash can. He flew to the ground and rolled in a heap of garbage that scattered at his feet. But Homer was so satisfied, he didn’t mind. He just got up and kept running. A couple blocks later, he fell in a mud puddle and splattered himself with dirt.  

By this time, the police had responded to the shopkeeper’s call and were patrolling the neighborhood on the lookout for the candy store thief. 

Meanwhile, Homer continued to huff and puff his way down the street. He was covered head to toe in mud and garbage and sticky candy goo, with only his pug nose protruding through the mess. His face was dripping with a mix of sweat and fudge, and he could barely see in front of him. 

Then he fell again, and this time the candy in his backpack and pockets spilled all around him. Homer wallowed in it, half in pain, half in heaven.  

Looking up from the street gutter, Homer caught a glimpse of a police car coming down the road. He knew he had to get away, but he had no more strength to run. So Homer crawled on all fours.

People walking down the street gawked at the sight, and some began to point and shout. “There’s a pig on the loose!” someone screamed. A crowd began to form, but Homer shuffled through it, snarling at them to move. 

Unfortunately, his mouth was so full of candy, he could barely get the words out. With his teeth stuck together, his voice just sounded like a series of oinks and grunts. 

Noticing the commotion, a policeman approached to see what was going on. He took one look at Homer crawling down the street, snuffling and squealing, and leaving a trail of stinky candy slime in his wake, and he used his radio to call animal control. 

The city animal control team arrived quickly. They had already received several calls about a filthy beast running hog wild through the city. Wearing nose clips to spare themselves from the awful smell, they used sticks to corral Homer in a wooden crate and threw him in the back of a truck. The police thanked them for their bravery, and the truck left. 

Homer was placed in a cage at the animal shelter, where he collapsed from exhaustion and slept for the next few hours. It wasn’t until later that night when they hosed Homer down that the animal control team discovered the truth. 

“I’m not a pig,” Homer said when he finally woke up with a jump. “I’M HOMER GLOBBERSCHNOOT!”

His parents picked him up and took him home. No one said a word about any of it for the rest of the night. The next day, Homer ate his vegetables. And started thinking of another plan. 

[Ed. note: This is a scary story perfect for telling around the campfire, but some of the content may be a little intense for young children. Use parental discretion.]

Once upon a time, there were three siblings who lived in an orphanage. 

The oldest was Daniel, a daring and fierce teenager, always looking for adventure.

Next was Oliver, an intelligent but cautious lad a year younger than Daniel. Oliver loved reading, learning, and planning things, usually to give Daniel practical ways of fulfilling his wild schemes. 

Janie was the youngest, a year younger than Oliver. She was tender of heart and loyal to a fault. Janie loved her big brothers and always looked for ways to make them happy. The two boys, in turn, were fiercely protective of their baby sister. 

The children never knew their parents, and had no memory of life outside the orphanage. They spent much of their time imagining their family’s rich past, and dreaming of their glorious future. 

One day Oliver read an article in a newspaper about a gold rush in the Oregon Territory. He told his siblings about it, and Daniel decided on the spot that they would run away from the orphanage and strike it rich in the mountains of the far west. 

After that, Oliver set to plotting a route across the country. He knew they needed money to make the trip but Daniel told him not to worry about that. 

One night, after several days of preparation, Daniel snuck into the orphan keeper’s office and stole a box of money from a locker. He woke up Oliver and Janie and told him they were leaving immediately. They spent the entire night wandering the streets before buying train tickets heading west the next morning. 

After weeks of traveling across the country, by train, carriage, horse, and foot, they arrived at last in the Oregon Territory. Stopping to rest in a small outpost on the banks of the Columbia River, the siblings were amazed by the huge crowds of people coming and going. The town was crawling with fortune seekers from around the world, carrying axes and rifles, trailed by mules with carts loaded down by supplies. 

They checked into an inn for the night, and there in the common room met a peculiar old Indian who took an interest in the three siblings. Looking directly at Janie, he asked:

“Are you here for the gold, young lady?”

Daniel cut Janie off before she could answer. “What’s it to you old man?”

The old Indian laughed. “I mean no offense, young one,” he said. “I only wish to know if you have time for a story. A story about gold.” He winked at them. 

Daniel’s eyes lit up at the mention of gold. “Do you have information?”

The Indian took a long drink from a dark bottle and said, “I know things that could save your life.”

“We’re listening,” said Oliver, suddenly interested.

“Well then,” said the Indian, “I will tell you a tale of tragedy and woe. A very long time ago, before the gold rush, there was a tribe of Indians who lived deep in the woods, where no one dares to go. This tribe discovered gold and gemstones in the foothills of the Cascade mountains, and with this treasure, they became rich and powerful. They were so rich, in fact, that they were said to have built their houses out of solid gold.”

Then the old man leaned in and dropped his voice down to just above a whisper. “But they were greedy, you see. They dug so deeply into the mountains and cut down so many trees that they angered the spirits of the forest. So the spirits of the forest decided to punish them.” The Indian stopped and looked around to see if anyone in the room was listening. “They sent a Wodewose to haunt the tribe.”

“A-a-a what?” asked Janie.  

“A Wodewose, half-man half-beast of the wilds. It is not clear what happened next,” said the old Indian. “But no one ever heard from the tribe again. They disappeared completely. Only scattered stories and legends remain.” 

“What use do I have for ale room fairy tales,” said Daniel rudely. “We’re here to get rich.”

The old Indian sighed, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled up parchment. He told them it was the only remaining map that showed the location of the golden village. He unfolded it and briefly pointed to a spot in an undiscovered wilderness. Then he rolled it up and put it back in his pocket. 

“If that map’s real, why are you sitting here in a tinpot town spinning yarns, when you could have enough gold to marry the queen of Spain?” asked Daniel.

“This map is real, but I will never use it,” said the old Indian. “Let this be a warning for you nice young people. The treasure is cursed. The gold is cursed. For the Wodewose comes for anyone who seeks it.” Everyone was silent, hanging on his words. The old man took another drink from his bottle, then sat back and stared as if into nothing. At that, the three siblings got up and went to their room to turn in for the evening. 

Later that night, Daniel got up from his bed and went down to the common room, where the old Indian had passed out by the fire. He snuck up to the man, reached into his pocket and stole the map. Then he woke up his brother and sister and told them to prepare their packs. “We leave at first light,” he said. 

The next morning Daniel showed them the map, and told them they were all going to be rich. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Oliver. But Daniel didn’t answer. His mind was already made up. So the three siblings set out into the woods in the opposite direction of where all the gold miners were heading. 

For many days they traveled, deeper and deeper into the uncharted forests and hills of the Oregon Territory. Oliver studied the map every morning and made guesses about how to read the land. They survived on wild berries and vegetables, mostly found with help from a book on foraging Oliver had picked up along their journey. Occasionally, they trapped small animals to cook by campfire. 

After a long time, they were exhausted and hungry and had sores on their feet. The days were getting shorter and the nights colder. 

Late one afternoon as they were passing through a deep forest of tall cedar trees, a storm crept over them. The wind howled and the rumble of thunder echoed across the sky. The rains came just as night fell, and they were drenched and shivering. Then Daniel saw a light ahead in the distance. It was the first sign of other people they’d seen in weeks. They ran to it without thinking.

The rain fell heavier as they dashed through the woods striving to get to the light as fast as they could. Daniel shouted to urge them on. Then Janie caught her foot on something and fell down hard. The boys ran to her aid. They had to pick her up and help her limp the rest of the way. 

When they came closer to the light they saw the form of a dirty old cabin with a hint of firelight twinkling through the window. They ran up to it and knocked on the door. After an uncomfortable moment, the door swung open and standing in the doorway was a very old man, with a slightly hunched back. He wore gloves and a hood so they could barely see his face. All they noticed was a long gray beard and piercing blue eyes. 

Daniel spoke. “Please sir, it’s frightfully cold and wet outside. Can we come in and warm up until the rain passes?” 

The old man nodded without saying anything and waved them inside. When they entered, they immediately felt a sense of coziness and were overcome by the mouth-watering smell of something cooking. All three of them gazed hungrily at a large stone hearth, where an enormous iron pot hung simmering over a crackling fire. 

“Come in, come in, sit by zee fire. You are velcome here,” said the old man in a surprisingly friendly voice and thick accent. The siblings did not wait long. They crowded around the fire and dropped to the floor in a tired heap. 

A moment later, their mysterious host brought out bowls and spoons and served them heaping portions of piping hot stew. It was chock full of potatoes and chunks of meat, and it was delicious. They each asked for and were given second helpings. 

When they were finished devouring the food, the three siblings relaxed and spread out on the rug next to the fire. 

“Vhat are you doing in zeez voods?” asked the man. His tone was genuine. 

Daniel relayed the entire story of their cross country journey, and then told him about the Indian tribe and the lost village made of gold. 

“It eez not a good idea,” said the man, when Daniel’s story was finished. “Zeez village you speak of eez no longer here, but zere are darker things that lurk in zeez voods.”

“Are you talking about the tree fairies and wood monsters?” said Daniel. “Here we go aga—”

The shrouded man cut him off. “Zee Wodewose eez not something to joke of.” Suddenly the flames in the hearth dropped to a flicker and the wind howled outside. “It eez nights like zeez when the Wodewose prowls zee forest, looking for zee greedy ones.”

The room went quiet, except for the steady pattering of rain on the rooftop. “My friends, you are velcome to sleep here for zee night, but pleaze take care.” He handed them blankets and retired to a room in the back of the cabin without another word. Though they felt uneasy, sleep took the three siblings quickly.

In the middle of the night, Daniel got up to stoke the fire. Their host was nowhere to be seen, so he decided to have a look around. Feeling curious, he went to the man’s room in the back and opened the door. The room was empty save a bed, small dresser, and an old wooden trunk. Never a boy of great politeness, Daniel decided to open the trunk. 

A warm glow reflected on his face as he gawked at the contents of the trunk. It was filled to the brim with jewelry and treasures of indescribable beauty. In the center, the largest piece was a carving of a great cedar tree made of solid gold. Daniel grabbed it without a second thought. 

Just then, there were three loud knocks at the door. Daniel slipped the golden tree under his belt and ran to the front of the cabin and opened the door. There was no one there. But the wind picked up, and lightning flashed through the windows. 

Daniel ran to his brother and sister and woke them. “Did you hear that?” he asked as they rubbed the sleep from their eyes. Then there were three more knocks at the door, louder this time, shaking the door frame. 

Daniel was always the most courageous of the three, if not the sharpest. He hid the golden tree under a blanket and ran to the front door. Once again, when he opened it, there was no one there. He turned to the others. “I’m going to look around outside. You two, stay put.” Then he went out into the night. 

Oliver hugged Janie close as the two waited for his return. The rain fell harder and cracks of thunder answered the lightning outside. Then all was quiet for a few moments. Suddenly, they heard a deep unnatural voice that chilled them to their cores:

“GIVE ME BACK MY GOLD.”

It was followed by a bone chilling scream that sounded like their brother. Oliver jumped to his feet. “I have to go help Daniel!” he shouted and ran to the door. As he stepped outside, Janie thought she caught a glimpse of a large fur-covered hand palming the window at the front of the cabin. 

Alone now, Janie backed close against the fire, eyes peeled and glancing toward every sound. The rain was pounding against the house, and the foundations of the cabin felt like they were shaking. Then there were three more knocks on the door, thunderous this time. Gathering up all her courage, she limped gingerly on her injured leg toward the door. She reached for the knob. 

Then she heard the monstrous command again:

“GIVE ME BACK MY GOLD.”

Seconds later came another horrible scream. This time it was unmistakably Oliver’s voice. 

Without hesitating she threw open the door. But there was no one there. Outside there was only blackness and driving rain. She couldn’t see more than five paces in front of her. As she leaned forward to get a better look, a gust of wind sailed through the door and knocked her clean off her feet, blowing her back into the room toward the fire. 

From her back, she looked up and saw a figure in the doorway, a hulking form in the shape of a man with grizzled fur and heaving chest. Stone cold blue eyes stared into her. 

“GIVE ME BACK MY GOLD.”

She scurried on her backside away from the apparition, clutching on the floor for anything she could find to defend herself. The phantom beast slowly closed in on her, snarling as its footsteps shook the floor. 

Trembling with fear and crying, Janie grabbed a hold of something solid and metallic underneath the blankets. She threw the object at the creature with all her strength just as its huge claws swung toward her throat. That was the last thing she remembered, before she passed out from fright. 

Early the next morning, when the sun rose, Janie awoke with a sudden jolt. Sleeping soundly next to her were Daniel and Oliver, both lightly snoring. The scent of freshly cooked eggs wafted over her from a table in the corner. Each of them got up and ate their breakfast without saying a word. Then they packed up their things and left. Their host was not around to say goodbye. 

As they were walking away from the cabin, Janie noticed a glimmer of light reflecting off the cabin door. She looked closer and then scratched away some of the grit and grime that covered the entire cabin. Below it was a surface of shiny gold. She noticed it in a few other places too and realized the entire cabin was made of solid gold.

Janie didn’t say a word to her brothers. She quickly caught up to them as they started their journey back the way they came. 

D.K. Celery woke up late one morning, feeling a bit off. As he brushed his teeth, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and almost jumped. His stalk was soft and browning, and his proud tufts of leafy green hair were dark and moist. 

“It’s gonna be a long day,” he muttered to himself as he rummaged through his dresser looking for his Ramones t-shirt. 

Across the street and around the corner, Peoria Tomato was also having a rough morning. Her normally shiny red skin had a rumpled look, and she felt a little itch behind her stem. 

Peoria’s stomach was sloshy, and she debated staying home from school. She could spend all day practicing guitar instead. Then she remembered she had a math test in third period. 

Meanwhile, her nextdoor neighbor Rotty Asparagus woke up with a fright. He’d stayed up late watching music videos and nearly overslept. Rushing to get dressed, he noticed the pale yellow color of his stalky skin. 

“Eww,” he said, as he flipped a drooping sprout away from his eyes. “I really hate Mondays.” He grabbed his backpack and ran out the door to catch the school bus. 

About a half an hour later during first period, a group of boys teased Whiffy Squash. They called her “slimer” and “stinker” because her yellow rind was wet and gave off a strong smell. The teacher didn’t even notice when they started throwing paper airplanes at her. Whiffy ran out of the room crying. 

Just then, Withers Calabasa came strolling down the hallway, late for school and looking like he was in a bad mood. His pumpkin shell was soft with black blotches popping up all over his face. He looked like a lumpy jack o'lantern. 

He watched Whiffy run right past him, crying and blabbering something about bullies. Withers knew how she felt. Harvey T. Salad Elementary School had a meanie in every class. 

Down the hall, D.K. Celery was listening to the science teacher talk about the natural decomposition process, when the boy in the next desk handed him a folded note. The kid snickered as D.K. opened it.

GO BACK TO YOUR CELL, IN THE CELLAR, CELERY.  

D.K. rolled his eyes at the bad joke. Then a piece of crumpled paper hit him in the head and landed on his desk. He unruffled it and saw a crude drawing of a bent celery stalk with the caption: D.K. SMELLERY. 

When he turned to face his attacker, D.K. saw the whole back row of the classroom making disgusted faces at him and holding their noses. He grabbed the hall pass and ran to the boy’s restroom.

Peoria Tomato had a similar experience in her class. Three girls had shouted “PEE YEW!” when Peoria walked by to take her seat. Then another kid called her KETCHUP FACE. She felt like she was going to throw up so she got up and left. 

In the boy’s room, Rotty Asparagus splashed water on his face. At that moment, D.K. Celery walked in, looking flushed with anger. The two of them noticed each other and nodded. 

“They picking on you again?” Rotty asked.  

“Same kids, every time,” said D.K. “I hate this school.”

“I know how you feel,” said Rotty. “A girl threw a rotten banana at me this morning on the school bus. She said we belong together.”

“Sounds like the lyrics to a punk rock love song,” D.K. remarked.

“She meant me and the banana.” Rotty did a little dance and played the air drums. Both of them laughed at that.

“I just wish I could find a way to get back at them,” said D.K.

“Maybe we can,” said another voice. The two vegetables looked toward the doorway, where Withers Calabasa had just walked in, face dripping with a white liquid. 

“What happened to you?” asked Rotty. 

“Some kid in the hallway threw spoiled milk on me.” Withers went to the sink to clean up. “I have an idea I want to talk to you guys about.”

Suddenly, they heard a scream from across the hall. The three of them ran out to see what was going on. The commotion was coming from inside the girl’s restroom. Withers walked up to the door and shouted: “Everything alright in there?”

“Everything’s fine.” Peoria Tomato walked out. “Just some girl stuff.” Right behind her, Whiffy Squash came out, tears caked on her face. She pointed to her hair. It was moldy. Peoria made a sad face. It was clear the two girls had been crying together. 

“I’m so tired of getting tortured all the time,” said Whiffy, wiping her nose. “I want to do something about it.” The five of them stood looking at each other. They all agreed but no one was sure what to say. 

Then the bell rang and the hall filled up with students. A group of fifth grade boys walked by and stopped in front of the group of veggies. 

“Look at these rotten losers,” said the biggest kid. He nudged his friend with an elbow. “Do you smell that? Yuck!” 

The other boy giggled and then pinched his nose. Several other boys laughed. Suddenly a crowd of children had gathered and were standing in a circle around Withers, D.K., Peoria, Rotty, and Whiffy. They pointed and jeered. Then a loud voice shrieked.

“These veggies are positively RANCID!” 

The entire hallway exploded with cruel laughter. Several boys slapped high fives. It was totally humiliating. After a minute or so, the crowd dispersed, leaving the five of them alone again.

Withers spoke up first. “I have an idea of how we can back at them.” He pointed to a poster on the wall. They turned to read it:

HARVEY T. SALAD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL 

FALL TALENT SHOW - OCTOBER 15

DEADLINE TO ENTER: TOMORROW

“Let’s start a band,” said Withers. 

Rotty and D.K. smiled. Why didn’t they think of this before? “I can play the drums,” said Rotty. 

“I can play tambourine!” shouted Whiffy. “And Peoria rocks on the guitar.”

“Me too, dudes,” said D.K.

“Don’t we need a singer?” asked Peoria.

“I think I can help with that,” Withers said with a smile. “First band practice is today at my house, 3 o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“What do we call the band?” asked D.K. Everyone went quiet. They all said, “hmmmm.”

For the next four weeks, they practiced every day after school, and twice a day on the weekends. It was hard work but they all believed in it. And they got better.

The veggies continued to face trouble at school. But everyone just ignored it. They had something more important to focus on now. 

The day of the talent show arrived, and the band was ready. They gathered with the other talent backstage before the show. Rotty peeked out from behind the curtain and saw the whole school was there, and all the parents, too. The place was packed.

They were the last act of the show, so they had time to wait. Some of the other kids waiting backstage frowned at the vegetables and held up their noses. But everyone was nervous, so no one made much noise. 

After a while, it was time to go on. Peoria and D.K. shared a few last guitar tips. Rotty and Whiffy shook hands. Then they took their places on stage behind the curtain. They could hear the Emcee introduce them.

“Let’s give a big round of applause for our final act, THE RANCID VEGGIES!” 

The curtain opened, and the entire crowd was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not a single hand clapped. The stone cold silence lasted for 10 seconds. 

Then D.K. laid down a smooth baseline. “Dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum.”

Then Rotty started in with the drums. “Boom-bas-boom-boom-bas-boom-bas.”

Then Whiffy started shaking the tambourine. “Tss-tss-tss-tss-tss-tss-tss.”

Then Peoria went off on a scalding guitar riff. “Skree-ah-ree-ah-ree-ah-skree-ah-ree-ah.”

Then a smoke machine hissed and billowed fog as the stage lights began to buzz and dance. 

Then Withers set the house on fire with the lyrics of a song: “We are the smelly ones. We are the stinky ones. We are the slimy ones. We are the rotten ones. WE ARE THE RANCID VEGGIES! WE ARE LIKE EVERYONE!”

The audience erupted with shouts of joy. Parents and children stood up and danced. The entire auditorium became a massive party with everyone screaming and cheering and applauding the spectacle in front of them. The Rancid Veggies brought the house down. 

And they won the talent show. 

After that night, no one ever insulted, bullied, heckled, harassed, jeered, joshed, or picked on them ever again. The Rancid Veggies became famous, and the whole school became their biggest fans. Even those lousy fifth grade boys.

Way out in the far reaches of the savanna where the grass grows 10 feet tall, large animals, wild things, and spectacular creatures stalk the land. There are herds of elephants, giraffes, zebras, gazelles, and wildebeests, as well as roving packs of hyenas, baboons, and monkeys that hang out in the trees. In the waterways, streams and lakes of this land, crocodiles, snakes, and giant hippopotamuses lay half submerged, watching all the time.

Of all these animals, the most fearsome is the lion. The lion lords over the savanna, a king above all others.

The only true rival to the lion is the man. And around this particular savanna many men lived in small towns and villages. 

A long time ago, there was one such village, a very small one called Zeeko. The people of Zeeko were gentle farming people who used the land to grow fruits and vegetables from the earth.

They lived at peace with the animals and never had problems with the lion. Their leader was a man by the name of Olapo, which meant lion’s mane. He was so called because he was a warrior when he was young, and everyone in the village respected his courage. He also had a big head of hair, just like a lion.

Olapo was a kind and wise man who had seen many things in his younger years. But now he had a family and a job as the village chief. 

Olapo had two children and a wife and spent most of his days tending to crops in the field. One day he was out working with the other men when he heard screams and shouts from the village.

Olapo ran back to the village and was horrified to see fires in the roofs of the huts and soldiers running in the streets making all sorts of commotion. Without thinking, he ran straight to his hut to grab his wife and children. 

“Come with me, come with me, quick,” he shouted when he found them. They sprinted as fast as they could into the nearby forest.

Once in the forest, there was a huge tree that was known to the people of Zeeko as a holy place. The tree was so big you could sit down in its branches. Olapo and his family climbed the tree and found a resting place where they would be safe from danger.

But after a few minutes Olapo realized his people needed his help. He was the leader of his village. He must go back to protect them.

He told his wife and children to stay in the sacred tree and wait for him. “If I'm not back in one day, then leave and seek help from another village. But please, wait for one day. I promise I shall return.” Then Olapo turned and left.

When he got back to the village, he saw that it was in ruins. Many of the huts were burned and the few people who were left were crying as they attempted to clean up the mess.

Olapo asked who did this and where did they go? The villagers all pointed toward the West along the king’s road. This was the direction of Tentrudo, the royal city. 

Olapo’s heart sank. He now understood the Kingdom of Tentrudo sent its soldiers to raid his village, steal their crops, and kidnap their men.

He ran as fast as he could on the trail of the soldiers toward Tentrudo.

In a few hours, he caught up to where he could see them marching in the distance. They were close to entering the high palace gates of Tentrudo, in a long, single file line of men from Zeeko.

Sensing he would need to be stealthy, Olapo crept up to the gate and snuck past a checkpoint when the palace guards weren't looking.

Keeping his distance, Olapo continued to watch as a large man led the group of kidnapped villagers into the center of Tentrudo. The man was painted head to toe with scary tattoos, and he wore a necklace with the fangs of wild beasts. He was pointing and shouting instructions and leading the throng of confused people toward the center of Tentrudo’s palace.

When they arrived in front of the tallest tower in the palace, the large man approached the guards and requested an audience with King Pampa. After some time, the group was let inside, where the king awaited with his advisers in a large courtyard. Olapo managed to sneak inside the doors, so he could see everything.

The large man bowed before the king and spoke. “Sire, it is I, Diakatu, your finest warrior. And I come to offer you a gift. I present to you, your majesty, this entire village, all of their crops and all of their hardest workers who can help you with your most important mission.”

The king smiled a wide, cruel smile and shouted to his guards, “Take them to the dungeon. I will deal with them later.” 

Then he turned to Diakatu and said, “I, King Pampa, accept your gift. Tonight, we will have a great banquet in your honor, to show the kingdom’s thanks for your bravery.”

At that, Diakatu and King Pampa left and the men from Zeeko were taken to the dungeons.

Olapo watched it all and wondered what to do. He roamed the palace grounds, thinking about what he had witnessed. What a horrible king this man is, he thought. This king is no friend to our people. 

Then Olapo realized something. Everywhere he went, he overheard the people of Tentrudo talking about the Great Lion that had been attacking nearby villages. The whole kingdom was on high alert and the king was marshaling resources to hunt down the lion.

Olapo understood it now. The king wanted the men from his village to help hunt the lion. Olapo knew what he had to do. He would sneak into the dungeon and free everyone as soon as he could.

But on his way to the dungeon, some soldiers found Olapo and brought him straight to Diakatu. “So you are the leader of these people who escaped me. But now your luck has run out. We have a good use for you and your men.”

Diakatu laughed a horrible laugh. “Tonight we hunt lions and believe me, if you do not do as I say, we will throw all of you in the crocodile pit.”

Olapo was taken to the dungeon where he reunited with the other villagers. He told all of them what he knew. They would be gathered for a lion hunt.

A short time later, Diakatu and his men came with weapons. It was time for the lion hunt. As the men were led out of the dungeon, Olapo overheard Diakatu talking to his captains in whispers. He said the plan was to attack the king and take the crown for himself.

They weren't hunting lions. It was just a trick. The real mission was to overthrow King Pampa.

As the men were preparing to start the hunt, Diakatu came before them and spoke. “We're going to take a shortcut through the palace. Remember to do as I say or you will be thrown into the crocodile pit.”

Then they quietly walked through the palace toward the king's chambers. 

But when they got just outside the chambers, they heard a ferocious roar coming from inside. Diakatu opened the door and they all saw the scene in front of them.

The king was surrounded by his guards, all of them sweating and shaking with fear. Together they stood only a few paces from the most enormous, terrifying lion any of the men had ever seen.

The king looked at Diakatu and said, “You are just in time to save me!” But at that moment, the lion pounced toward the king and his men in a savage attack.

Diakatu shouted to his men to do nothing. “Let the lion do our work,” he said. The king screamed in anger as Diakatu shut the door. 

At that moment, Olapo called on the villagers to run. They used the chaos as a distraction and sprinted down a hallway, leaving Diakatu and his soldiers behind.

Olapo and his men ran as fast as they could, taking turn after turn until suddenly they found themselves lost in the palace. Without knowing, they had entered the king’s maze.

Suddenly Diakatu appeared at the end of a long hallway, surrounded by his armed soldiers. “Now that Pampa has fallen, I am your new king. And my first act is to get rid of all the outsiders who do not belong here in Tentrudo.”

But instead of setting his guards on Olapo and the villagers, he smiled. “You are alone in the king’s maze…with the Great Lion. Good luck.” Then he turned and shut the door, leaving Olapo and his men alone in the dark corridor. 

Olapo heard the roar again, and he knew the lion was loose somewhere inside the maze.

Remembering his days as a young warrior when he spent many times away from home, Olapo knew the best thing to do was stay calm. He instructed the men to not be afraid. 

“Listen to me,” he said. “We will stay close to this wall and follow it as fast as we can. No matter what happens, we will stick to this wall.” When they came to a dead end, they stayed on the wall and circled it, and continued. 

This went on for some time. Occasionally, they would hear the roar of the lion, but it grew more distant. Finally they came to a large gate. Beyond it they could see outside. They had made it to freedom.

But as they opened the gate, standing in front of them was Diakatu and his soldiers. He laughed a vicious laugh and slapped the side of his spear.

Olapo and his men had no time to think. They turned and ran back into the maze. Only moments later, rounding a turn, they ran directly into the lion. The beast stood and stared just a few steps in front of them, drooling and growling. 

Olapo and his men made another quick decision. Once again, they turned around and ran back toward the gate, this time with the lion hot on their heels.

When they got to the gate, Diakatu and his men pulled out their spears and charged. But the lion was there. It leapt over Olapo directly into the crowd of soldiers.

There was a ferocious battle.

Olapo and his men did not wait around to watch it. They ran as fast as they could toward the forest, toward their village, toward home.

They were all very tired, and the night was peaceful, so they stopped to rest for a bit. The men sat on a patch of grass beneath a bright full moon and began to catch their breath. Until they heard a familiar sound, like a small purring of a kitten.

Olapo looked up and saw a cat. But not the kind he expected.

It was a lion cub.

Then suddenly there were two more. Three lion cubs in all. Olapo knew this was not a good sign. When there are lion cubs, there's a lioness.

As though she had been reading his thoughts, a giant lioness appeared from behind a tree and gave out a roar of ferocity that shook the forest.

Olapo and his men were stunned in place, fearing the worst. Just then, Diakatu and his men came charging out from the woods.

“You have proven to be a dangerous foe, but you cannot escape the justice of King Diakatu.” The large man shouted. “Attack!”

Olapo and the villagers were caught between the lioness and the King’s soldiers. The situation did not look good. 

Behind them, there was another sound, hard to make out at first. A rustling of branches. Then there was a tremendous roar even louder than the last, as the Great Lion flew from the darkness. He landed directly on Diakatu and ate him up.

King Diakatu, who would later be known as the worst king in the history of the kingdom, was no more. Without their leader, his men did not know what to do. So they dropped their weapons and scattered into the forest. 

And the lion, the lioness, and their three cubs chased after them.

Olapo wasted no time. He ran toward the village of Zeeko and straight into the forest beyond, to the holy tree. 

He arrived just in time, as his wife and children were preparing to leave. The whole family came together in a giant hug, tears falling from their eyes. 

After everyone had returned, Olapo gathered together the entire village and told them the whole story. They decided at that moment they would rebuild the village better than ever, and build a huge statue in the center of the town. A statue of the king, the true king, the Great Lion.

If you decide to visit the village of Zeeko, you can still see the statue standing there today. But beware. To get there you have to cross the savanna. And the lion still lives there, too.

When I was growing up, my mother told my siblings and me amazing stories. They were always funny and imaginative, and often remarkably dark. She always joked about publishing her stories some day. Us kids would nag and cajole her to get to it. We believed some of these stories had legs.

Truth be known, my dad’s stories weren’t too shabby either. In fact, many people in my family were pretty good at winding colorful yarns. Some of them were rooted in truth, many complete fabrications. Either way, my family loved telling stories.

Over the course of my adult life, mostly unconsciously, I established a professional career in the varied realms of digital content—writing, editing, content marketing, and all that jazz. I gravitated toward this world by instinct and because it paid relatively well for an English major. But while this career track had its moments, all the best aspects of “storytelling” were largely absent: playfulness, adventure, simple morals, myths, fears, legends, and stories just for the story’s sake. No CTAs.

About a year ago, my mother, already well into a late-life struggle with cancer and congestive heart failure, took a rough turn and spent a week in the hospital. Though she recovered from that spell, I resolved myself at the time to surprise her by rewriting and publishing a few of her short stories. I hoped to show them to her before it was too late.

Fast forward six months or so, and I had re-written one of her most oft-remembered children’s stories, and even focus grouped it with my 6-year-old twins. I also engaged a freelance artist to work on some sketches, and completed a few of my own. I was well on my way.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be. Early in 2023, my mother’s health declined suddenly and rapidly, and she passed away on March 27th. I was out of the country when it happened and never had a chance to say goodbye. I also hadn’t finished the stories, nor had even told her I was working on them. It was after all meant to be a surprise. I just didn’t “get to it” in time.

One of my mother’s great laments was not finding the time to do more of the things she loved, especially later in life. She was a natural procrastinator, which from my vantage point appears to be hereditary, and it cost her in the long run. I don’t want my kids to see the same thing happen to me.

What is the goal of Gilded Tales?

The goal of this publication is to tell entertaining stories, to create a consistent cadence of these stories, and accompany them often with unique audio recordings by me. Parents, children, and anyone else who likes imaginative stories will be able to access the stories here for free.

On a personal level, my motivation is to fight against a legacy of internal resistance, return to the simple innocent narrative formulas of childhood, and fulfill one of my mother’s greatest wishes. Not the wish to publish her stories, but to delight and entertain children. There are few things nobler, perhaps, than stoking the imagination of a young person. That’s what I endeavor to do.

What makes Gilded Tales unique?

The stories here exist nowhere else. They provide an alternative to the books you’ll find at school or in public libraries. Though they may at times contain simple lessons, the goal is not to lecture or instruct—kids get enough of that elsewhere. The stories here are designed to entertain, inspire, and create a sense of wonder. I want kids to dream and laugh and experience a world where anything is possible. I want them to be open to the majestic, spiritual, mystical, and fantastical. This is meant to be fun.

It’s also meant to be convenient and easy. Need some completely new bedtime stories and don’t have the energy to make them up? Gilded Tales is at your service. Take the stories and make them your own, or read them out loud to your kids at night. Or, play the audio recordings of them. There will be plenty of stories for all interests.

How often will Gilded Tales publish new stories?

The initial goal is to add a few new stories every month. Subscribers will get an alert when a new story goes live. Over time, we will build a large library of original stories.

Are the stories appropriate for all ages?

The stories here should be appropriate for any child over the age of 5, but this is ultimately up to the parents to decide. I think of the stories here as falling between a G and a PG rating, to compare them with movie ratings. But these days, there is a pretty wide spectrum of interpretation depending on the family. You can probably expect cartoon-level action and violence and sometimes scarier/darker concepts, such as you might find in Grimm’s Fairy Tales. If anything changes, I’ll label the story accordingly.

What kinds of stories are told here?

The stories here are meant as homage to the great tradition of oral storytelling, as our ancestors have been practicing for thousands of years. Themes involve adventurous quests and solving mysteries. Fantasy elements, magic, and supernatural creatures will be common. But there will also be stories that take place in modern settings. Legends and myths will explain things, sometimes in a surprising or funny way. There will be lots of surprise endings and downright silliness meant to generate giggles. You can also expect challenges, villains, and bad luck. Kind of like real life with one major exception. Here, happy endings are the norm.

One word of caution. This is not a progressive space that envisions the creation of a new society, encourages transformative value systems, or injects ideological subtext into the stories. If anything, my stories are based in traditional values passed down through the ages of human beings. They may be extremely diverse in their portrayals of cultures and civilizations inspired by a variety of histories. They’re original, but often rooted closely with timeless stories from the Bible, Greek mythology, classic literature, and cultural myths from around the world. There may be morals and educational material in some tales, but they’ll be time honored and universal, not heavy handed, fashionable, or du jour.

So why should you care? Because this is a place where you will find 100% authentic English language stories with heart and soul. Not half-thought out and poorly written. Not roughly translated. Not created by AI. Not “written” by an offshore content farm. Every story here is one you will not find in any other place. All published in an ad free and easy-to-consume format. Sometimes there will also be images, videos, or original audio recordings accompanying them.

You’ll get magic and wonder. Good beating evil. Adventures and dreams. Suspenseful mysteries. Hard challenges and majestic quests. Traditional moral values and strong family bonds. Love and loss, and lots of kindness. Fun and laughter. The golden rule above all. 

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