Melanie woke in a cold sweat, her blankets tossed to the end of the bed and tangled around her feet. She didn’t remember what she’d been dreaming about but she did remember how terrifying it was. Her heart drummed in her chest and she had to take a few minutes to calm her breathing and wipe the sweat and sticky hair off her forehead. Kendo rolled over and mumbled something, still asleep. It was dark outside when Melanie pulled back the cheap blinds, which meant it was either very late or very early. The air held that spookiness so common in the wee hours of the morning. With a sigh, Melanie collected the blanket from the end of the bed and burrowed into it as best she could. The rest of the night she spent awake, dreading her trip back home and trying everything she could think of to get back to sleep, from poorly-executed meditation to counting imaginary sheep.

Kendo cleared his throat and groaned as he stretched. “Morning,” he said to Melanie quite groggily.

“Morning,” Melanie said, an automatic response. She wiped her eyes; she was sure they’d have dark rings below them.

Kendo’s pink hair spewed in every direction and the half-asleep look in his eye made it even more comical. Melanie stifled a laugh. “What?” Kendo asked, oblivious.

“Nothing,” said Melanie, and finding a new resolve to face the day, got up and flattened down her hair.

Kendo yawned, “I’ll make breakfast.” Then he shuffled into the kitchen, leaving his crumpled blanket on the floor by his pillow. Melanie heard his joints crack with every step and couldn’t help feeling a little guilty over it. She had slept in his bed, after all.

They had hamburgers again. Melanie wondered if she’d get sick of them soon.

“Where’s your dad?” Melanie asked.

“Off somewhere. It’s Sunday. Who knows.”

“Has he always been such a goofball?”

“You’re too awake for this early in the morning.” Kendo handed her a plate of hamburger; this time it was broken up with melted bits of cheese and bacon bits mixed in.

“That’s a creative way to make a hamburger,” Melanie teased.

“Oh shut up,” said Kendo. And he shoved a humungous spoonful into his mouth to make his point, “If you aren’t gonna eat it then I will.”

Melanie grabbed a spoon and dug into her own pile of hamburger. It was strange in a good way, like hamburger-omelet. “How come you know how to cook such weird stuff?” That earned her a hurtful look from Kendo and she rephrased, “I mean such unique, inventive meals.”

Kendo sighed, “I kinda had to figure out how to cook on my own.” He turned his attention to the next scrambled hamburger, sprinkling red pepper and onion into the mix. “Dad can’t cook for crap so he eats out all the time.”

“What about your mom?” Melanie stood up and joined him by the stove. She planned to ask for more but then she saw the empty freezer bag on the counter. She pretended she had gotten up to put her dish in the sink and did so.

“Mom isn’t around anymore,” Kendo sounded pained.

Melanie stopped in her tracks, the dish in her hand hovering over the sink like she’d forgotten what she was doing. She stared at Kendo. He looked so upset all the sudden.

“You know how I said I’d been where you were? When you tried to jump in front of that car?”

“Yeah.” Melanie didn’t like where this was going. Her tone was unfathomably flat.

“Truth is,” Kendo began and poured the final burger-omelet onto his dish, “My mom committed suicide. Dad was the one who found her. She slit her wrists in the bathtub. I guess,” Kendo rolled up his black cotton sleeves, revealing a scar right down the center of his left wrist, “I tried to follow her example.”

Melanie nearly dropped her plate. She fumbled to catch it before it broke, managing only barely.

The rest of the morning was kept in a smothering cloud of uncomfortable silence. Melanie didn’t know what to say to Kendo and likewise, Kendo didn’t know what to say to her either. It made Melanie eager to return home, a thought that surprised and frightened her. She guessed she was just grateful to have something to do to get her mind off of everything.

Once they both were fed and washed and clothed (Melanie in another pair of Kendo’s jeans and Kendo wearing his usual leather,) they set out. Melanie was grateful Kendo lived so close to her apartment; otherwise with her terrible sense of direction they may have gotten lost. Melanie was one of those people who could get somewhere only if they already knew what path to take. If Kendo had lived farther from her apartment she knew she would’ve had to walk all the way to school and then backtrack. Thankfully, the walk was short. Even more fortuitous was that it was uneventful.

The screen door was still wide open from what seemed to Melanie like decades ago. In truth it had only been a few days, but with all that had happened Melanie was trying to distance herself from the beginning of all this chaos.

She took the deepest breath of her life and stepped inside. Kendo followed suit.

What they saw dropped both their jaws. Written in black ashes on the living room wall was, “The Creature’s Court Awaits,” in the most archaic bold calligraphy imaginable. Entranced, Melanie leaned closer, climbing on the couch to see the writing more clearly. Whoever had written it must’ve had the steadiest hands and a writing utensil the size of a pinhead to get that much detail into each letter. Every letter was made up of a scene, a picture painted in ash of monsters of all kinds, doing all kinds of things. They were dancing, singing, eating worms, and even flying; one painted itself in a continuous circle of repetition inside the letter “C” in “Court.” Kendo was leaning in too now, wondering who or what could have enough time on their hands to pull off something as intricate as this. Melanie blew on one of the letters and the ashes spread like a tiny explosion across the wall, smudging the ashen murals that made up every letter.

“Well that’s not creepy or anything,” Kendo said and straightened his back with a scoff.

“But what does it mean?”

Kendo shrugged, trying not to look impressed, “Who knows. Just grab some clothes and let’s go.” There were prickles up his spine that he was trying so hard to ignore. Something about this place was off; it just didn’t feel right. He wondered if Melanie felt it too. He wondered if it was all in his head.

Melanie nodded at Kendo. Neither of them saw the glint in the little creature’s eyes. It sat atop the television, grinning like mad, only the size of a Beanie Baby. It had purple skin and its emerald eyes were adorned in a thousand glistening rhinestones. They looked like stars in the sunlight that seeped through the cracked blinds, half pulled-back against the open screen door.

It laughed, scratching the top of the television with its three-inch long green nails. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard times a hundred. Melanie jumped and Kendo spun around, the prickling on his back amplified tenfold. The both of them shivered at the screeching sound reverberating in their ears.

“You got Grivgas in trouble!” The creature said, giggling. It tittered like an imbecile. Its voice was so high-pitched that it sounded like a foghorn, and it was much louder and shriller than the sound of its nails, like ice down your back. It kept scraping its nails over the screen as it cackled, getting so hysteric it nearly fell off the top of the television in its laughing fit.

Kendo subconsciously placed himself between Melanie and whatever this thing was. “What are you? And what do you want?” He demanded before he even knew what he was saying.

Melanie watched the little creature squirm in a fit of silent laughter. It held its stomach and its sparkly eyes watered at the tips, making the rhinestones around its eyes even brighter. It kicked its feet, bursting with an excitement that, in all honesty, was scary to Melanie and disturbing to Kendo.

“You got Grivgas in trouble! You got Grivgas in trouble!” The creature taunted when it caught enough breath between giggles to speak, “You’re lucky Grivgas is so nice.”

“How do you know about Grivgas?” Melanie asked, stepping out from behind Kendo who shoved his clenched fists into his jacket pockets with a grunt of disapproval. Melanie stared the creature down like an interrogator.

“I know about everyone!” The creature said, arms spread like an eagle’s wings, “I’m Frock the Gatherer!”

“Then what do you know about Grivgas?” Melanie pressed.

Frock the Gatherer erupted in another manic fit of laughter.

Kendo took Melanie’s arm, “Come on, let’s just ignore the stupid thing and get what we came for.” That feeling down his spine was certainly not going away and this Frock the Gatherer guy was not helping in the least. There was an air of urgency seeping off of Kendo that made Melanie question his action. She pulled her arm away and returned her attention to Frock.

“Tell me what you know about Grivgas.”

Kendo gritted his teeth. There was something so wrong here; why wasn’t Melanie sensing it?

“Is that a command?” Frock asked, a devilish smile spreading across its lips.

“Yes it’s a command!” Melanie insisted before Kendo could stop her.

Frock’s grin widened, “Well I can’t tell you, but I can show you.”

“Show me then,” Melanie said. Kendo couldn’t believe she just said that.

The wall behind them opened up like midnight, a tunnel spiraling ever onward, drawn in ashes like the letters had been before. Frock grew to human size and kicked Melanie into the expanding hole; Kendo yelled her name and jumped in after her. Then the wall closed itself off, zipped up like a wrapper and sprinkled itself into Frock’s hands, ashen once more.

They were falling. Kendo squinted to see Melanie in the endless gust of air that lashed at them both like a tornado. She didn’t seem to be conscious. Frock must’ve knocked her out with that kick to the gut. With clenched teeth and fierce determination, Kendo kicked and flailed until he managed to grab Melanie’s hand and keep hold of it, not an easy feat amidst such violent wind. Still, as strong as the wind was; the thought of it not being there was worse. When Kendo pulled Melanie close and looked down his stomach flipped and churned. Though it was difficult to see through the swirling clouds of black ashes, the ground was a long way off. It was nighttime here, wherever here was.

Melanie opened her eyes with a gasp and then clung to Kendo for dear life. “Falling! Falling!” She screamed.

Kendo held her tighter. “I’m aware of that,” he retorted. In truth, he didn’t know what the hell to do. There was no way out of this and he knew it.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the ashes and wind that were holding them suspended suddenly dropped and Melanie screeched loud enough to pop her eardrums. She heard Kendo yelling too, desperate, sure that it was their final moment. They would die right there, smashed by the landing, surrounded by night and mist and trees the size of mountains.

Something caught them. They didn’t know what it was but they both heard the heavy flap of wings above them and felt themselves jerk and begin floating upwards. Looking up, Kendo and Melanie saw a woman with eagle’s feet and the face of an owl, batwings spreading from her shoulder blades all the way down her back, getting thinner where a feathery tail poked out, an extension of her spine that worked much like a rudder the way she flew.

“We don’t get many humans around here,” she told them and flapped her mighty wings. She tightened her grip on the two of them. She held them both by the scruff with the only humanesque limbs she had: a burly pair of arms the same tan color as her torso.

Kendo found his voice and choked out, “Thanks for catching us.” He realized he was still holding Melanie and contemplated letting go but decided against it. He wasn’t confident this bird-lady wouldn’t drop them and if she did, he didn’t want to fall to his death alone.

All Melanie could do was try not to hyperventilate.

The bird-lady said, addressing them both, “I am Fowlina.” Turning her attention to Kendo, “And I shall not drop you. Humans are fragile things after all.”

Kendo didn’t like that she could read his mind. Fowlina laughed at him for thinking that.

“Y-yeah, thanks.” Melanie shivered, only then noticing the frigid air and the layer of mist at the top of the cylindrical trees below them. “Can you tell us where we are exactly?”

“You are in Olden, my dear.”

“Where’s Olden?”

“It’s everywhere,” Fowlina explained.

Kendo thought her explanation was extraordinarily lacking.

Hearing his sarcastic thoughts, Fowlina continued. “Olden is what you humans see in your dreams, in your imagination, in the shadows of your reality. Olden is everywhere because Olden resides in everything, in some way or another.”

“So it’s like magic or something?” Kendo asked, though he was really focused more on when they were going to land.

“Magic is one word for it, yes.” Another flap of Fowlina’s wings and they were riding an air current diagonally, heading down in circles towards a particularly thick tree. As they got closer Melanie could see a knob in the tree that had been chewed out, and a nest large enough for tigers sitting inside the hole. That was where Fowlina landed and set Kendo and Melanie down in the leaves and hay. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Melanie was grateful to have her feet on the ground and fell to her knees in relief. Kendo finally let go of her and glanced around the nest. An owl head much smaller than that of Fowlina’s poked out of the hay a few feet away and cawed at him. He jumped, nearly tripping over Melanie.

“Watch it,” Melanie grumbled.

“Sorry,” Kendo said, “A little spooked.”

Fowlina laughed, folding her bat wings to fit further into the curving hollowed wood that made up the nest’s roof. It was more of a wooden cave than a nest the way it had been made. It was lit by a strange off-green light weaving in and out of the walls. It was dim, but not dim enough to impair Kendo or Melanie’s vision.

“Do not worry,” Fowlina said, “Children, look what I’ve brought you.”

Three more owl heads poked out of the hay. They all squawked in unison and Fowlina hooted a response. Kendo found himself looking into the children’s black, black eyes.

“Promise mommy you won’t fight too hard over them,” Fowlina said to her children.

They all hooted twice and spun their heads towards Melanie and Kendo. It was then that Melanie saw the hunger in their eyes. She raised a hand to cover her mouth. Kendo yanked her to her feet and began backing away.

The children hopped clumsily towards them, unbalanced, Fowlina watching with a proud, motherly smile.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy for this,” Kendo whispered once they had nowhere left to go but fall out of the nest.

“What?” Melanie whispered back, panicked.

“We gotta jump. I saw a ledge on the way down.”

Fowlina was laughing as her children tripped over each other towards Kendo and Melanie in an awkward display of flapping lopsided bat wings and wide, hungry, black staring eyes. “Don’t let them get away now,” she was saying, so calm.

“You are crazy,” Melanie hissed as her shoe scuffed some hay off the edge of the nest. It whistled as it descended, never seeming to hit ground.

“You wanna be eaten?” Kendo was holding her hand so tight it hurt. He let go and stood in front of her, “You first. Go!”

Melanie bit back her excuse, looked over the edge, saw the ledge below, and jumped. She heard the most horrible shrill noise from above and looked up to see Kendo falling after her. She rolled out of the way and he landed hard on his back. Two of Fowlina’s children tumbled after him but he managed to shift to his side and kick them off the ledge. They screamed in a high pitched wail as they fell to their deaths. Fowlina stared down at Kendo, enraged on her perch. Then she dove, wings clamped to her side for a faster free fall.

“Move!” Kendo yelled at Melanie.

Melanie moved. She somehow found a way to scramble down the side of the tree and onto the thinnest part of the ledge. Kendo stomped the wood until it cracked. Ripping off a piece of bark, he threw it at Fowlina, hitting her in the chest right as she spread her wings to break her fall.

That only served to make her angrier. She let out a noise like a scream and a hoot and a howl, and then she flapped her wings to form a gust that made Kendo lose his balance. He gripped the side of the tree so hard he bled and lifted himself back onto the ledge.

“Why’d you have to throw something at her?” Melanie whined as Fowlina advanced in a fit of rage that glowed deep red in her eyes.

“You aren’t helping!” Kendo yelled back.

A miracle, out of the corner of her eye Melanie saw something. It was another nook in the wood. Kendo gulped, not noticing what Melanie was doing. Fowlina’s focus seemed to be squarely on him. Glad Fowlina was distracted; Melanie dug her toe into the nook and kicked as hard as she could. The bark crumbled in. There was only a small opening, but Melanie knew it was their only chance to get out of this alive.

“This way!” Melanie hopped from the ledge to the opening she’d kicked into the wood. Kendo was backing away from the enraged Fowlina and barely heard what Melanie said. He ducked out of the way of Fowlina’s beak and leapt towards Melanie just missing Fowlina’s claws.

Missing the hole, Kendo nearly fell, but Melanie grabbed his hand just in time and heaved him into the opening. From inside the hole, they could hear Fowlina’s cawing and screeching hoots circling around the tree. Thankfully, she was too large to fit inside the opening. They collapsed there to catch their breath, those same dim green lights twinkling all around.

“Are we alive?” Kendo asked, breathless.

“I dunno,” said Melanie, honestly.

“You just had to tell Frock to show you didn’t you?”

“Oh shut up.”

Kendo sighed and tried rolling onto his side but his arm buckled beneath him. He yelped in pain.

“What is it?” Melanie said, “What’s wrong?”

Lying on his back again, Kendo grabbed his right shoulder. “I think I dislocated it,” he said.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Melanie felt her heart flutter in worry.

“Hang on,” Kendo said and sat up with a painful gravelly noise in the back of his throat, “Okay. Put your hand here and here.” He took Melanie’s hands and placed them on his shoulder and upper arm. “Lean forward with all your weight.” Melanie did so with a nervous nod. “All I need you to do is stay right there. Just don’t move. Got it?”

Melanie nodded again.

“Here goes.” Kendo took a breath and thrust all his weight into Melanie. There was an excruciatingly loud crackpop and then Kendo yelled out in agony.

Melanie squeaked, “What happened!” Nonetheless, she did an excellent job of not moving.

After the initial shock, the corner of Kendo’s lips curled into a half smile and he let out a sigh. “You can let go now,” he told Melanie, “I’m fine. It’s back in place.”

Melanie turned beat red and let go.

“I say we get some rest. It is nighttime here in Wherever-The-Fuck-We-Are-Land.” He lain down on some of the less splintered wood and stared up at the glowing green streams of light that crawled up the sides of their little hole. “My shoulder hurts like hell.”

Melanie suppressed a cold chill from the cold night air and settled next to him. She curled up in a little ball to keep herself warm. “Sure. Sleep sounds better than dealing with stuff trying to eat us.” She closed her eyes, trying to will away the fear-induced insomnia.

Kendo looked over at her. A moment later, Melanie felt his leather jacket drop onto her.

“What’s this for?”

“You’re freezing,” he answered, “If you don’t want it I’ll have it back. It’s freaking cold here.”

“Um. No,” Melanie stammered, “Thank you.”

A grunt was the only reply she got. They spent that night huddling for warmth with a lullaby of screeching owls that echoed in the starless night.