Once

Once.

It seems to be a harmless word.

Once.

Once is defined by Webster Dictionary as "One time and no more"

"Once I broke my arm..."

"Once upon a time..."

Harmless.

But, then there comes the self-defeating use.

"Just this Once..."

"Once I have my shit together..."

These cyclic phrasings cause many issues among people.

"Once I get the money..."

"Once I

Once I.

Once I get this job, I'll pay off my house and live my life happy.

Once I finish school, I'll be on my own!

Once is a filler word for "when"

even then, it's not good.

"When I get this job, I'll pay the bills"

"When I see you again..."

Thinking and speaking this way leads a road of endless possibilities with one path in mind.

The path that's talked about, but no one ever sees.

The "Once When" path.

When I get my car, we'll drive anywhere!

Once I get my car, we'll drive anywhere!

You are not going anywhere, and you know that deep down.

"I once..." tells a story

"I've only been there once." starts a discussion

"Once I" leads to a life of open circuits with no real connections.

just filler.

after a while, your filler fades away

and once that happens, that's when you'll be sorry

Once you're done reading, and when you've finished completely, be aware of how many open circuits you need to close.

How many times have you said "once" today, in the hopes of getting something done?

"When" is a time word.

It means somewhere in the future.

Replace "once" and "when" with a form of "I will"

Instead of "Once I get my computer fixed" say "I  will look into my computer issues"
Instead of "When I get some money" say "I will find a job" or "I will work hard to get what I need"

The world is full of Once's and When's

Only you determine when your When happens, and Once your When happens, and you complete it fully, then you'll be able to break your cycle and learn from it.

Life is about habits and cycles.

Be in control of yours.

And don't say "once I..."

Secret Snake Club

AGENDA!!!

At school, I'm starting a Dungeons and Dragons club. Big surprise, right?
Every time I think of Dungeons and Dragons, I think of this trio right here; the Secret Snake Club.
[hisses internally]
They never played DnD once, yet I still feel less nerdy than them, which is saying something.

These nerds follow the Great Snake, Shnissugah, whose house is near Lake Ontario. Shnissugah defends the nerds from bullies in the ancient jungles of Canada.
I'll just let the silent nerd explain...

As I watched the video, I realized how kick ass it would be to have a giant snake creature who would come and help the adventurers when they were in over their heads in a jungle. He would be the myth known simply as Shnissugah, or the Great Canada Snake.

When you think about it, Billy and Mandy is a treasure trove of awesome ideas; an old vampire who just wants to get the Early Bird Special. A giant slime monster from space who wants to eat brains. Fred Fredburger.

Fred Fredburger! YES!

All in all, Maxwell Adams did a great job showing what nerds are like when they're all together and actually made creepy things fun to watch and play around with.
Unlike Courage, which gave me nightmares as a kid.

From a writing perspective, it was done nicely. Scary things were less scary, like Cthluhu and his telemarketing business, and cute things became scary, or creepy, like the Schlubs.

I don't know how to end this. I've been working on articles for weeks, and I have some homework that needs done. I need to maintain this blog a little better, and I need to get back into writing. The holidays will consume a lot of my time, as well as yours, so I may be slow publishing another post.
In case I don't, have a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, a Happy Kwanzaa, and a blessed new year! 

In lieu of any actual content because of studies and life, here's a story I wrote for Halloween called "Hall of Dolls"
I mentioned this a few times in previous posts, particularly in July when I finished the story.
Anyway, here's the story, I hope you enjoy.

The wind howled as Ariel trekked through the woods, each footstep crunching leaves and twigs. Her brown hair was tucked neatly in her beanie, her boots were tied up to her shins, and her jacket was zipped up only a little to show the “What’s updog?” saying on her shirt, showing half of the cartoon face of a very cool-looking dog underneath.

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

Each step was a reminder of how lost she was. The path was buried by old dead leaves, with more joining them as the thunder began to roll. The wind whipped up a small tornado of leaves that Ariel simply walked through. She closed her jacket a little more and pulled her hat down on her head.
She leaped over a small stream and her feet hit a cobblestone path, every few steps being overtaken by grass and dirt. She followed it and was greeted to a very large house. On the porch was a woman. She was wearing black and white; a maid’s uniform. Her long, black hair whipped around her as the wind blew and rain began to fall.
“Hey!!” yelled Ariel, hoping to grab her attention.
The woman seemed motionless, then, slowly, her head turned to face Ariel.
“Ah, yes, hello” she said, in a monotone, but cheerful voice “You seek shelter from the storm?”

Ariel walked up to the porch steps and nodded.
“I believe I have a room open” said the woman “The sky is looking very bad...why don’t you join me for tea?”
Ariel walked up the stairs “Thanks. I’d like that”
She got a better look at the maid as she approached. Her eyes were big, and each iris was black. Her skin was very pale, almost alabaster. She had a very pretty face, and a tall body. Her bangs were parted on the right, strands of hair crept over her left eye. Her skin looked shiney from standing in the rain.

The house was large, each footstep echoing as she walked the long runner. The unholy squeaking of the door aged the house about a hundred years. On the room to her right looked to be a very lovely living room; very high ceiling, a few bookshelves, and home to about three couches surrounding a glass coffee table. Just beyond was a small dining room. The room to her left, just off the staircase to the second floor, had a closed door with the simple, but lavish, plaque boasting “Hall of Dolls” inscribed in gold lettering. Down the hallway was a room that showed off cabinets and counters framed by a doorway. The kitchen.

“I hope you enjoy the home” said the maid “My owners are out for the weekend. Hopefully this storm passes”
“Yes” said Ariel, taking off her jacket. “You said your owners? Don’t you mean the homeowners?”
“I take my job very seriously” said the maid with a cheerful voice and an unrelenting smile

They both walked to the kitchen, the wind outside banging the walls and rain begging to be let in. Ariel sat down at a small table while the maid started the kettle.
“What is your name?” asked the maid
“Ariel” she said, taking her hat off. “Who owns this place? I’ve never seen it before”
“Many haven’t” said the maid “It’s a rare treat for us to have visitors!”

The wind beat against the windows, each gust providing a helpful reminder it wasn’t going away.  Thunder and lightning talked to each other, even over the loud complaining of the rain.

“Oh dear!” said the maid “I guess it’s not passing after all.”

“I guess not” said Ariel “When’s the tea going to be ready?”
“In a few minutes. Please relax” the maid had a cheerful grin about her almost constantly. She really does take her job seriously, thought Ariel.

The tea kettle whistled what seemed like seconds later, it’s contents poured onto small white bags in small white cups. Sitting down and sipping the hot leaf water, Ariel spoke up after a few seconds of silence.
“What’s that room back there? The Hall of Dolls?”
“Ah. Master’s most prized possessions!” The maid said, putting down her cup “Come!”
They approached the room, the maid got out a key from the apron pocket and unlocked the large wooden door.
“You’re very lucky” she said with a larger smile plastered on her face “not many visitors get to see this room!”

The door squeaked, again showing the age of the house. Inside was a very large collection of dolls. Each one had a pretty dress, some of them had hats, others had braided hair. A million eyes staring; watching. Along the far wall were portraits of women, and under them, on pedestals, were dolls. Ariel got closer, but was warned not to touch. The dolls under the paintings looked strangely similar to the women above them.
“Master has an obsession, I suppose.” said the maid “When he finds a girl he considers beautiful, he makes a doll for her, and gets her portrait painted.”
“How...sweet” said Ariel, looking at the small plaques in front of the dolls. Quietly she spoke “Mary…”
The maid tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“I know this girl” Ariel said pointing to a plaque. “Mary Sinclair! I went to school with her! She was a grade below mine.”
The maid said nothing, and walked over to confirm the name.
“One summer, she and I were hanging out with some friends. John and Riley, and Peck. We did a lot of things. Mostly illegal things. I saved her life many times. After that summer, we all heard she transferred to another school. We never saw her again.”
“That’s very sad.” said the maid, bending to get a closer look at the doll. “You were close with her?”
“Not really” said Ariel “but I do miss hanging out with her. She was fun...and she knew where to get the best booze from.”
The maid had no reaction to this, and ushered to leave the room. “Our tea is getting cold. You can look here again tomorrow.”
The picture of Mary lingered in Ariel’s mind as she left the room. Help me it seemed to say. I’m lost. I don’t know where I am.

The complaint of the lock to the key was heard throughout the hallway as the door locked.
“It’s getting late” said Ariel “Mind if I stay here tonight? You said your...erm…’owners’ were gone for the weekend”
“Ah, yes” said the maid, calling to attention “I have a guest room open.”
They walked up the stairs, echoes of footsteps haunted the hallway as they approached the mahogany door. It opened with ease, no squeaking or complaining on the doors part. Seemed like a new addition to the house. The room was nicely lit by candles and two large windows on the far wall. The drapes hung over the glass as the rain poured outside. The bed was big enough for two people. Across from the bed was a dresser, and on that dresser were more dolls. Some of the dolls were still in boxes, a few were in plastic cases, and the containers were all dressed up with a nice layer of dust and neglect. The rejects. Or, at least, some of them. Behind the bed was an old mirror. It could see the mirror behind the dolls on the dresser. The whole room smelled like mildew and old socks, but the candles slightly masked it with the scent of fresh linen, which is a slightly odd scent for stick candles.

“Here is your room for the night” the maid said in her usual monotone way “The storm should pass by morning”
“I hope so. Do you have a bathroom?”
“Yes” said the maid. “Down the hall, to the left. I’ll help you find it.”
“No, it’s alright” said Ariel. “I can find it.”
The maid became slightly nervous and gave a sour face as Ariel turned to go. She reached into her pocket and brought out a bell.
“Here!” said the maid urgently, holding out the bell. “If you need anything, please ring this and I will come to help”
Ariel took the bell, thanked her and relieved her for the night, which is what she thought she was supposed to do at night for the help.

She passed every door in the hall, they seemed to almost multiply, as she reached the end. She was greeted by white marble as she entered the bathroom. It didn’t look totally old, but old enough to have a bathtub connected to the shower. She did her business, washed up, dried off, took her makeup off the best she could, and left with a semi-wet towel. She shut the door and the sound echoed down the hall. As she walked back to her room, curiosity got the better of her and she went to a door. She tried to open it, but it was locked. She tried another.

Locked.

And another.
Locked.

Ariel fished the bell out of her pocket and rang it. Without hesitation, footsteps made themselves known as they grew louder and louder. Finally, the maid appeared, floating down the hallway with grace.
“Yes, Ariel?” said the maid, in a cheerful, but still monotone voice, presenting a relentless smile.

“What’s in these rooms?” Ariel said, motioning to the doors
“Ah. Curious, are you? Curiosity killed the cat!” she chimed with a light chuckle “These are our guest rooms. We keep them locked unless we have guests over.”
Ariel was slightly taken aback.
“Why was my room open then? You weren’t expecting me.”
“No,” said the maid, shuffling, making her dress look neat “We keep one room open, in case of lost travellers. As you know, we don’t have guests all that often.”

“Right” said Ariel, putting the bell back into her pocket.
The rain beat on the roof, and the wind howled eerily as the world got darker. The maid took her leave and went back down the stairs, again looking as if she were floating.

Ariel found herself in her room, pacing, pondering, questioning. “What are in those rooms?” she thought “They can’t just be empty.”
The dolls seemed to watch her pace. Their pretty eyes moved when she did, or maybe it was a trick of the eyes; candlelight.

After a few minutes of walking, she tired herself out, stripped down to her under gutchies in place of her usual pajamas and found her place in the bed. She closed her eyes, but the questions kept coming and racing through her mind.

Where was she?
Why was she here?
What are all of these dolls?
What is behind those doors?

More dolls?

She needed answers. She stood up and all of the dolls began staring at her, each one’s head snapping into position, as all good little girls would as headmaster showed up. She got on her clothes and shoes. She found a few hairpins on the floor, and grabbed a lit candelabra, just in case.
She exited the room. The dolls seemed to watch her as she left: one even tried to wave.
Approaching a guest door, she tried to pick the lock with the hair pins. No good. She picked up the candlestick, reared it up and--
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING????”
She dropped the candlestick and the maid angrily floated to her, her eyes seeming to be in flame.

“Were you trying to break in, young Ariel?” Shouted the maid “Because you are NOT ALLOWED IN OTHER GUESTS ROOMS!!”
The force of her voice blew Ariel back. “I was...just...curious”
“Curiosity kills the cat!” loomed the maid “Guess who’s the cat?”
She reeled her hand back, her eyes filled with blackness. She grunted and threw her hand forward -actually THREW her hand- nearly missing Ariel’s head, hitting the still burning candles and knocking them onto the carpet. It burned away at a loose fabric piece, wax hugging the carpet.
“YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED” screamed the maid “IN THIS ROOM!”
Her other hand shot out, hitting Ariel in the face and grabbing onto her neck.
“YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THIS PLACE” shrilled the maid. Her voice sounded like two demons talking at once, fighting with her usual happy chime.

Ariel struggled, grabbing the hand, kicking wildly.
The maid fell to the ground suddenly, releasing Ariel. Shocked, she looked to her room. A dozen or more small girls held umbrellas, canes, watering cans.
“Girls! Wow!” said Ariel, grabbing her neck “Thank you for saving me!”
The dolls began to charge her, effectively tripping her. They beat her relentlessly with plastic tools, each screaming obscenities, ill wishes, slanders and slurs. Ariel got up and kicked many aside as she bounded down the hallway, leaving the burning candle to its’ own devices. Her path was blocked by the maid, who now stood in front of the stairwell.
Her mouth was mutated to a devilish grin, and her hair looked like black flame had consumed her head. Her hands had returned to her, ready to be launched again.
Voices assaulted Ariel’s brain
LEEAVE THISSSSS PLACCCCCCE

IT’S NOT SAFE HEEEEEREEEE

HELP USSSSSSSSSS

Ariel bolted into the maid, riding her down the stairs like a sled. She seemed to crumble as she hit the bottom step. Ariel ran to the front door to find it locked. She heard many doors open, followed by thousands of tiny footsteps. She looked behind her and at the top of the stairs was an army of dolls, each one holding something that could be used as a weapon. Ariel grabbed the keys from the maid and unlocked the Hall of Dolls.
She entered to find not a single living thing. The dolls remained in their place, but none moved. She had caught a break.
The door was being beaten, the windows were rattling, it was gettin hot. Ariel backed away and hit the wall. She looked up at the portraits looking down at her, each one sneering. One by one, they began to scream like banshees. Their eyes began to bleed, and their hair fell out, collecting onto the floor. The sound was deafening. The door broke open and revealed a floating figure, the alabaster skin flashed against the lightning strike, as well as hundreds upon thousands of dead, staring eyes.

She felt her heart sink, the cries became unbearable, blood found its way to her feet.
The porcelain figure drew closer, followed by her cutely dressed army.
“Oh, Ariellllll~” she sang “Won’t you come in for some tea~?”

Ariel found herself on the ground, backing away from the demonic maid. She hit a pedestal and toppled over a doll. Mary’s doll.
But instead of it being a glass case with the figurine of a cute girl in a nice dress, it housed an evil looking doll, dark blood oozing from its eyes, mouth, and nose.
Ariel shrieked and threw the case at the maid. She was knocked back, glass breaking on impact, the doll lay by the feet of some dolls, still bleeding.
Ariel picked up the pedestal and brought it above her head. The maid drew closer, her black eyes becoming a void, her long tongue ready to consume another soul for the collection, her hands turning to bloody claws, her hair turning to silver.

Ariel turned and threw the stand out the window, breaking the glass and letting rain come in. She jumped out the window, but felt a hand grab her shirt. She was being pulled back as she heard laughter. Children’s laughter, as well as a ghostly cackle.

This is it. She thought. This is how I die; some doll’s plaything.

She was dragged through the mud and scattered ash as the maid retrieved her. Her back hit the wall and her pants caught some glass, trapping her in the window for a brief second. She felt a yank, then was roughly cupped in the maid’s arms.
Her teeth were sharp, dripping. Her ceramic lips curled in anticipation for a bite of their succulent dinner. Cheering, happy shouts, mixed with banter, and awful suggestions, came from the wall of dolls, almost like they were at a sporting event.

The good ones

Ariel struggled to break free, her hands landing blows on the small sisters climbing the maid for a closer look. One punch found the maid’s face, leaving broken shards on the floor. The maid growled and threw Ariel at the still-screaming portraits, Mary’s falling as the body connected.
Ariel was dazed, stood up slowly. The maid floated to her.
“Here, kitty kitty kitty”
The room began to fill with cheering, thousands of audience members watching the commencement of a new sister.

She was real pretty too. But so poorly dressed. What a shame. She would soon be among the ranks.

Dead eyes. Heartless. Plastic. Stand up straight and look pretty, dear.

Connect.

In the maid’s arms again, like a kitten. “Good kitty.” laughed the maid “You will soon be a sister with us”

Monotone, but cheerful, crowd chanting “Pretty Sister Joins Us Today. Pretty Sister Joins Us Today”

Struggle. Break free. Thunder. Clamp. Gasp. Lightning.
Connect.

Ariel was on the ceiling, held up by the maid’s extended arms, dolls climbing to see her, to greet their new sister. Each one had a tool of destruction; lipstick, makeup, eyeliner pencils.
Fight. Draw. Kick. Punch. Give up.
Burn.

On the floor was a flood of little girls, assaulting her. “Pretty Sister Joins Us Today” they chant. “Pretty Sister Joins Us Today” Louder and louder, faster and faster, until it became a single sound. High pitched. Ariel covered her ears and was grabbed by the maid.
“Let’s end this little ga--”
Kick. Throw. Land and run. Door. GO.

Burn.

She ran to the kitchen and grabbed her coat, rushing out the back door. She looked back at the bedlam of the burning house. It lit up the woods around her as she ran away. Screams of little girls, one demonic yell above the others. In the smoke, the sound of thousands of girls laughing, cheering, happy to be free.
Ariel put her hands in her jacket’s pockets. She was bloody, wet, sore. She felt something poking her thigh. She reached into her pants pocket and took out a triangular shard of alabaster porcelain. It shined and reflected against the moon. First, she saw the maid, at first demonic, then in her first form, then as a beautiful woman. She smiled at Ariel, then turned and walked away.
Ariel was slightly shocked when the words “Thank you” appeared on the shard, but soon faded away and replaced with Mary’s doll. The image of a dead face faded to the face of Mary Sinclair. The reflection gave a warm smile, a wave, and then walked away. “Thank you” on the shard.
Thousands of times.
Thousands of girls.
All thanking their savior.

Ariel smiled and was greeted to a road. She followed it to a gas station, and called for a taxi, and headed home.

Burnt Out Torches

I have a few minutes to spew out an idea that I wrote for a class (even though it's not something I'm studying)
As anyone who reads this blog or talks to be for longer than 5 minutes knows, I'm making a Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
This story is about the main antagonist, Enyuk, and his source of power.

Enjoy it!
Okay, back to studies.

(except less bling)

Burnt Out Torches

The burning pages told him someone had recently been here. As he left through the doorway to tell his party what he found, he stumbled upon something shiny beneath his feet. A red gem framed in gold, attached to a golden chain. It shined and glistened amongst the torch light, and for a split second, saw the evil eyes of a demon. And in that split second, he felt something pierce his soul. A thousand silent screams penetrated his mind. This wasn’t normal evil. This evil was untapped, raw.
He placed his nail-ridden baseball bat over his shoulder as he brought the gem out into the hallway.
“What do we have here?” asked the rogue “A gem?”
“Yes, but…” he paused. His eyes shifted from the party to the necklace a few times, then he focused on the cleric. “It’s evil, somehow”
The cleric, being of sound religious background, took it from his outstretched hand and examined it closely. The necklace fell to the ground and bounced. The cleric’s eyes were wide, shocked, and scared.
“We need to leave this.” he demanded. “We must!”
His words were fast, but punctual. The group knew what had to be done.

They found a small chest in the room. They opened it, placed the necklace inside, and locked it. With what binding material they could find, they wrapped it up, tied it closed, and found a place to bury it among the papers and furniture.

Years pass, and the old cleric, who denounced his old ways, came back to the dungeon. He walked in and out of rooms, feeling nostalgic of what used to be. Most of the rooms had seen many adventurers over the years, and it showed with the new sword marks on the walls, broken tables and burnt out torches. As he sauntered along, he found the room they had hidden the necklace.
To his surprise, it was untouched.

It was still in its place; under the chair with papers covering it. As he unwrapped the chest, he couldn’t help but smile as the old smell reminded him of the party; The rugged barbarian with his bat, Loverboy. The dashing rogue and his silver tongue that got them out of most everything. The beautiful ranger, her uncanny ability to bring the party’s spirits up was second to none.

And there it was; the cursed necklace.
The evil still lingered, and he could feel it. Feeling tempted and not wanting to miss the opportunity to experience new magic, he put it on.
Suddenly, he felt his body vibrate and go limp. He started to see thing, things he never wanted to see; burning bodies, mangled corpses, screams from otherworldly monsters, his grandmother naked.

Then, silence.
Everything went blank.

He picked himself up, dusted off, and walked out of the dungeon, seeing all he needed to see.

That night, he found himself unable to sleep. He tossed and turned, and everytime he shut his eyes from the moment the moon came out, all he saw was fire. This was not good.

He grabbed the necklace, but it would not go over his head. It seemed to be bound to him. He used some fire magic to melt the metal, only to leave a nice red mark on the back of his neck and the necklace shinier than ever where his hands were placed.

He poured over his research, looking feverishly for some answer. Thinking this was some punishment from his former deity, he got onto his knees and prayed the torture to stop, that he’d repent his ways and turn back. He felt heat again, but this time, it wasn’t around his neck. The heat felt like it was balling up in his stomach and expanding throughout his body. Into his chest, his shoulders, his arms, his fingers. He felt it in his thighs, his calves, his toes. It reached his head and he felt calm.
Just calm.

His eyes became half open and he slouched against a nearby wall, sliding down it and smiling, as if he had been infected with marijuana.
He started to go numb, starting at the top of his head down to his feet. He felt nothing.
He watched himself stand up, look at his research, and ignite his hands.
As the building burnt down behind him, he continued to feel nothing, but heard a demonic voice say “This vessel will do. It’s powerful.”

He woke up the next morning, buying a few vegetables in the market nearby where he used to live. He said nothing, but heard his voice asking how fresh the produce is and what the price happens to be.
“They were picked fresh yesterday, sir!” said the cheerful salesgirl “The carrots are 2 gold, the lettuce is 4 gold, and the--”
He cut her off “How much for you?”
She started to sweat, and her hands started to shake. “Uhm...excuse me?”
“You heard me. How much, for you?” He saw his hand go up to her chin, as if examining her.
He fought for control, trying to get out of this situation and save a life, hopefully. He struggled and fought, mentally ruffling around for control of his body.

The next thing he saw was a darkness that faded into pale torchlight along a wall. The ebb and flow of the torch was the only calming quality of the situation. He recognized the dungeon. It was where he found the necklace. Soon, he arrived at a door. THE door. The door that once held the most evil part about him. It opened, and his body walked inside. His voice began chanting in a tongue he had studied, but didn’t know fully. The parts he could pick out talked of a sacrifice, being free, and finding a vessel. Everything else about the chant was guttural, throaty, and sounded like fire.

His body found a book, written in a demonic language. He found that he could read the words, but they made no sense.
“Man boy to be is found. Under next rock, turtle in pasture. Give of mortal. Twelve horn fire, the world anew. She ambassador condor and the world you Under new plus and yesterday, the crows signaling miss”

After reading lines of nonsense, the body closed the book, held out a hand, and ushered forth magic power that did...nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

He screamed as he felt power leave his body and into the open air.
From behind him, a familiar voice “Is everything alright?”
“If everything was alright, you wouldn’t be here. This place wouldn’t be here. Everyone would be dead!” he heard his voice say.
The voice stepped into the room, revealing herself to be the salesgirl from the market. She was wearing flimsy armor over her work clothes. She looked scared as she put her shortsword back in its sheath.
“Oh” she said sheepishly “Uhm...tell me again why you want to destroy this dimension, and why you need me.”
He turned around to face her “My poor sweet, ignorant girl. I need you because you are pure. We will start a new, pure world together.”
She blushed, but not out of flattery, and he knew that deep down. Inside, he could see her tears well up in her eyes. No doubt thinking about her family, her friends, everyone she’s ever loved or needed love from.
His body searched the room again, hoping to find a spell, or a book with the spell in it.
He searched for what seemed like hours when he came back. The girl was asleep along the wall, looking exhausted from crying and searching.
He gave up, picked the girl up and hoisted her over his shoulder. He took the torch and exited the dungeon to the bright light outside.
He got full control back and fell to his knees, the girl falling with him.
“What happened?” they said simultaneously “What? No, what did you say? What’s going on?”
They stared at each other for a while. He saw the genuine fear and confusion in her eyes. He shook his head and looked at the necklace. It wasn’t glowing, but faintly pulsating in a rhythm.
“I...think he’s asleep.” he said, giving a sigh of relief.
“Excuse me, what?” she said “Who’s ‘he?’”

“I...I don’t--I don’t know” he said, placing the necklace back down on his chest. He looked at her and said “We haven’t been formally introduced, and I’m sure that my body has done some awful things to you in the past few days”
She cut him off “Well, yes. And the past few weeks”

How long have I been out? He asked himself. When was the last time I showered?
After smelling himself, he explained the situation to her.
“My name is Enyuk. I’m a cleric turned wizard and I guess I owe you an apology, miss…?”

He was expectant of her to answer with her name, but only got back a small whimper
“Are you alright, Enyuk?” She asked him
He tilted his head. Funny, he’s been asking himself that same question for weeks, apparently.

“Ah, yes. I’ll be just fine. But you, my dear” he said in his most reassuring voice “need to get back to your family. You’re not safe with me. You’re not safe here.”
He thought quickly, not wanting her to leave house and home, and he not wishing to leave the land he grew up knowing. After many moments of deliberation, he sparked an idea.
“My fair lady, I ask that you run back home. Let me know not of who you are. Did I ask for your name these past few weeks?”
She nodded “Yes, and I told you my name”
He wrote down on a piece of paper ‘Esrellda’ and gave it to her.
“If I call you by your real name, tell me that you’ve changed it to this. Once you do, step away from me.”

And with that, he ran off into the woods.

To this day, Enyuk lives in the Black Woods, recollecting his research. Every so often, he returns to demon form and yells the salesgirl’s name as loudly as he can, searching towns for weeks on end. She has evaded him for the time being. When his powers are depleted, he sleeps in the gem again, allowing Enyuk to restore what good he destroyed.