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Basic Dungeon Scenario - Jungle Complete!

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The Jungle dissolved -

An orb appeared in front of me, as obvious as if it rested on the shelf in a classroom.

Earth - A Globe.

Glowing. My return ticket. Home.

And I felt the life within me. The excitement -

I reached out my hand, glancing over myself -

I wasn't much to look at, still -

My cowl wrapped around me - it made me look bigger.

And it rested on top of my head - just right.

I pulled it inside - folding it. I placed it on my bench, like a quilt.

I'd washed - paid for water and soap, t-shirt and shorts.

Underwear.

All the cheapest, but somehow I felt my mother would disapprove of me showing up wearing a tiger, or nekkid. She was a proper lady.

I went home.

And I was back in the kitchen, my arm outstretched, blinking. Adjusting to a new world around me, an old world - but I saw it with new eyes.

The kitchen...

And I just stood there, breathing. Instantly I knew everything was going to be alright.

Because...cookies.

Chocolate chip, the ones that stay melted even after they've cooled enough to get a proper bite, to dunk in a glass of milk without crumbling.

It's how Mom makes them.

I felt myself sink into the familiar, it wrapped me like a favorite coat I had worried wouldn't fit as the season changed, instead it was perfect.

The TV murmuring on some news channel in the background - I hated the news, I loved that it was on, that I could already hear the sound of my father's chair creek.

The newspaper rustling? What time is it?

"Thank you, Eileen." I heard my mother's voice, "It was nice of you to bring this by."

"It's the least I can do, Jane. I'm just so relieved to see you holding up," I heard the rattle of newspaper, again - "Especially after the Zelinsky kid, and just one day...I can't imagine-"

"He'll be fine." The creak of his chair, I heard him flick the newspaper.

I found myself backing into the vacated space our freezer had been in - I know that sound. Even more then I didn't want to see -

"Eileen." My father added.

"Of, of course I would -"

"He's an Abbot." My father never put an edge on his voice - if anything his voice was all edge. Still, I felt myself bursting from his words, they way they landed like the Ace of Spades.

"Of course, I mean - good. Good! Charles..." I heard her tittering, the back peddling of her speech, but not as clearly as I heard the reporter - the words catching my ear -

I'Heath Melbrook of Nebraska has been transported to Mercy Psychiatric for evaluation. He is the 1,973rd Returnee." The lady reporter - she used the strange drawling, always breathless voice that always irritated me, "A spark of hope as thousands more continue to morn these unfortunate events. Government services continue to provide emergency assistance as the national guard answers its nation's call to maintain stability of population centers - and again - I share the reminder to not call 911 for non-emergencies. A twenty-four hour helpline has been set-up to answer all questions and provide essential services and has reporting options for Returnees, Phenomenon, and Door locations, 1-800..."

I was pulled back as our front door slammed.

"Hmmm." My father said, I'd missed it - I had known my father was heating up, but for him to flick his paper? Now he hmmm'd? Nobody likes Eileen, but -

"You'd think she'd have something better to do than put her nose in on good people trying to have a party!" Grandma!? Her voice was - cheerful. Forced. "What did she even bring?"

"Casserole." My mother sniffed, "I think."

"The nerve of some people." My Grandmother tittered, "A casserole is no food for a party, and if you're going to pry - at least have the decency to bring a roast."

"Everything Eileen cooks is in poor taste." I thought I was going to fall thunk down, right on the ground at my mother's words. But the heavy thud of a casserole dropped in the garbage beat me to it, the lid slapped closed with a final -

"Cody's back." I heard the scratch of Grandfather's words, then sharp, indrawn breaths.

"Hank!" Grandma chastised, "Can't you see she's already on the edge of her seat! Don't guess!" The words accompanied a muffled - indrawn breath, and a sob bit down on.

"I'll check." My father's chair snapped down with a heavy twang, and footsteps rounded the corner of our kitchen, and I watched him turn.

He looked at me, and I looked back - I just stood there staring into his eyes - and the damned tears I'd sworn had long been drained, they didn't care if I was a liar.

What did I look like? What did he see? I tried to look into his eyes but I couldn't see clearly in the blurry haze -

He offered me his hand.

"Welcome home, Son." He said, and I took it, wanting the callouses to wrap around me and crush, that squeeze of pain that brought comfort, there was still comfort there without it. He pulled me into his hug.

The shouts in the room!

"Cody! Oh! Oh!" My Mother's frantic hysteria.

"Praise Christ!" Grandma hollered.

"Told you." My Grandpa didn't say that - but he was very quiet. Or he'd fallen asleep.

I was home.

"Let him breath." Grandpa finally interrupted by walking into the room - as he led his wife and daughter-in-law to give me a bit of space, "Go clean up, kid."

I nodded. I hadn't said anything yet, I'd kept any more tears out - my inventory. The idea occurred to late to stop my father from seeing, but a part of me felt that it was right. It wasn't tears of shame. They didn't need to be hid from men, only because my mother was upset and I didn't want to add.

I looked at all of them meeting their eyes. I took a step back.

"Thank you."

Then at my Dad, "Thank you."

Then I was in the bathroom, closing the door behind me in the darkness. I flipped the switch, turned on the shower and turned to the mirror.

A feral teen staring back at me.

It was a good thing I hadn't run into the living room as a tiger, I probably would have scared Grandpa to death.

No.

I probably would have been shot. Twice.

I looked at my mess of hair - torn away in chunks - the only sign I'd actually had an injury. My eyebrows matched. I should have used the scissors, or just scalped myself with the axe - I had it in my hand without thinking - the mess.

Then I let the Cowl engulf me, the mouth opened in a mighty roar around my smooth, un-bearded face. And I finally got to see myself - how it looked. Almost like a bad joke, except it was funny. I couldn't help but laugh...mostly because I kept thinking about those monkey's faces, and really - I couldn't blame them.

I pulled it all away and stood naked. Just me.

I'd tried to clean, but the sap had been tough. I'd missed some spots. It was mostly my face that had changed - my jaw wasn't slack but tight. My eyes were clear, unblinking.

And my cheeks flushed healthy, I didn't like that part, I thought it made me look younger. But I didn't have a zit for the first time in a couple years.

In the corner of my eye - I looked up at that portrait that always stayed there - the old me. But it was gone, and a new pendent hung.

How I appeared today, hand outstretched in front of me, eyes splashed with blue and green. Ready - anticipating something good. Smiling.

I jumped in - started scrubbing. Then I scrubbed again. The hot water felt so good, the soap smelled so good. I smelled so good.

I jumped out and buzzed my hair, then washed one last time, the water finally running cold.

I toweled off and brushed my teeth, I even flossed. And shaved my face because I felt like it - there could have been hair there, why not? And I slipped back into my room and dressed before returning to the kitchen - to finally have a cookie.

I had my first bite. I took a long drink of cool milk. Three sets of eyes watched me, and another read the newspaper.

I could hear their breathing. Loud. With the TV off. Just the hum of a fan and their breathing. The occasional rustle as they shifted in their seats. The sound of me chewing.

"How'd you know I'd be back right then?" I finally asked, finishing my glass of milk.

"We...we didn't." My mom said, turning, "How'd you know, Hank?"

The paper shrugged.

"The cookies?" Grandma chuckled, "She hasn't stopped baking them since the first one came back. I was going to be sick if I had to eat another, but I'll be damned before I take a plate over to that nosey twits house!"

I grabbed another cookie, a full mouth was still useful.

I was taking small bites -relaxing. There was so much pressure - I couldn't understand why everyone was on edge? I mean, I was back - I started to speak, to try to say something but - I just smiled at them.

I felt some of the held breath ease out -

Mom began to look relieved, then exhausted. My Grandma, however? Incredibly smug. But Dad's eyes - I'd never seen him look at me that way before, it was how he looked at a weapon, I realized. As he took it apart - looking it over.

Was he seeing if I was alright? Broken?

"What happened?" I finally asked, "I heard the news, a part of it. It sounded like I wasn't the only one to disappear, but - what happened? Since I've been gone?"

"Nobody knows. A bunch of conspiracy hats with opinions riling folk up, mostly." Grandma offered, "Those - Doors, they're calling them now, I guess. They just appeared everywhere, all at once. Nobody knew what they did, except if you touched it?"

She looked at me, "Gone."

I nodded, even as I heard the strained whining coming from my mother's throat, like a weed-eater started at the neighbors.

"They started coming back. Just a few minutes later, sometimes seconds." My Mom was crying now, her hands covered her mouth as my Grandma rubbed her leg. I didn't have to ask in what condition they returned in - from their face, "They called a state of emergency, told everybody to stay inside, they had everybody riled up. They said it was a glowing ball and not to touch it - of course that sent everybody guessing, and with our contacts in the military -"

I nodded along, imagining how confusing it was. Thinking of the glowing orb of earth just popping up out of nowhere in front of me. I hadn't even seen the one I'd touched. How many people had grabbed one not even by accident, or out of curiosity? Not knowing? It hadn't looked particularly dangerous when I saw it, but I'm not sure if I would have touched it. Not if I'd seen it ahead of time and didn't know.

"The first day - that was the worst. The deceased just kept popping out all over, it wasn't on the news, but the internet...terrible, just terrible. Videos going around of people just appearing in the mall, or a parking lot, just awful. Recordings of people touching the orbs, vanishing. Kids on playgrounds. And still the only official response, 'Stay Inside. Don't touch the orbs. Of course we came right over."

I nodded again.

"It was the day after the broadcast when the first one came back alive, and it was...impossible to believe, at first. A cruel prank, then video disappeared - but everyone was talking about it - as much as we wanted to believe. Then more videos, more accounts and some began to share their stories. What they'd done to survive.It wasn't until today the news even picked it up."

I nodded again, looking away.

"We've been trying to be positive - we knew, as long as you didn't come back, there was hope, but then they started to put numbers together and some idiot posted odds..." This time her eyes glistened, voice finally wavering minutely, she sipped from her glass of tea before continuing, "Thirty percent came back after one day, ten percent two days later."

I nodded, as my mom erupted guiltily around her tears, "We didn't even realize it. We were watching the news, I thought you were in your room!"

"I thought you left that damn freezer open again, you know what a pain in the ass it is to defrost. I just shut it, I didn't think -" Dad looked at me, away, back at me, "Waste of a Saturday if you ask me." He finished.

"Is that where it's at?" I asked, nodding at the empty space the fridge used to fill.

"No. Today's Thursday."

"You wouldn't fit in the freezer, dear." Grandma interjected, chuckling.

My eyes widened as I imagined my fathers face if I had been in the first group to disappear, and for them to spend a whole day looking for me only to return in an explosion of frozen peas and deer meat a day later.

I couldn't help but laugh at how absurd it all was -

Which only made my mom cry harder, I'd watched her arms twitching and realized she'd been trying to stop herself from wrapping me in a hug, and she finally gave up the fight - my grandma slowly explained more and more, as she sobbed and all the pressure made sense.

I couldn't imagine the stress, their bravery in sitting there with the threat of me falling to the floor in pieces at any moment - they'd thrown a two day long welcome home party for me. My mom baking cookies every hour so they'd be fresh -

All that had to be bad enough - but it was even worse, I realized.

"There wasn't a lot of hope left, not after the second day." Grandma said, "Not for most folks. Once the interviews came out. The one day folk had it bad enough, but the two days?"

She stared at me, shaking her head and I could tell there was something more she was implying, I didn't speak. I waited.

"Theres a lot of fear - surrounding the doors. And another dollop added on top for the people that returned."

"Why?" I asked.

This time my Grandma's smile was more bitterness then cream.

"Because some come back with magic. With things that should't exist. Can't exist. They can make stuff disappear in one hand and reappear in another. They heal from the impossible. Some were horribly hurt - traumatized, and the world wasn't ready - they weren't ready - " She shuddered.

"Oh." I said.

"Don't worry, Cody." My Grandma smiled at me, my mom squeezed my hand. My dad stared at me and my grandpa took a long sip of coffee, "We'll always love you, the Doors of Power can change some things, but nothing will ever change that."

I smiled up at them.