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Spaztic Chyld
Fri Sep 03, 2004 at 04:47:49 pm EDT
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Indiana Gnome AND THE GARGOYLE OF DOOM! (Part 2)
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Indiana Gnome and Gunthar
in...

Indiana Gnome... AND THE GARGOYLE of DOOM!




A few more days pass by and the talk of the gargoyle dwindles in the spotlight of gossip as other stories come to the headlines, yet there is still an air of fear at night in the industrial part of town. Businesses shut down early and their workers are asked to come in later in the morning “for safety reasons.” This is good for Indiana, because it clears the area for him to work. Every night since he’d heard Officer Mc Intyre read those headlines to him, he’s been on the case, bound to find some evidence that it wasn’t Gunthar who had done all of that damage. Being the part of town that it is, the road crews haven’t even bothered with trying to fill in the holes left by the massive feet as they stomped around in anger.
As darkness falls, and Indiana watches the last group of workers leave for the day, he can’t help but wonder if it was Gunthar who’d done all of this. He is capable of doing this kind of damage. The last set of taillights disappear into the darkness and Indiana reaches into his bag. He shuffles things around a bit, then whispers into it. Suddenly, what he was looking for comes to the top of his bag. He pulls out a stick that is slightly longer than his bag. It has a glowing crystal on the end of it that, when it gets in the moonlight, glows brighter and illuminates the area around him. Stooping to the ground for the um-teenth time in the last few days, he begins a new search. As he’s already covered the area where the victims were found, the side of the building, and the vehicle itself, tonight he focuses on where all of the tire marks were left.
After about an hour of searching, he hears something nearby (to a gnome, nearby is within a quarter of a mile), and he takes cover, throwing his light into his bag again. Silently, he waits for the source of the noise to appear. As the sound gets closer, he distinctly hears heavy breathing and some scuffling noises. From under neath the dumpster, where he has hidden, Indiana sees feet move into view. They are small and one set seems to be dragging the other. It sounds as if the one who’s breathing heavy is the one doing the dragging, and now Indiana recognizes the sounds of a muffled voice, as it screeches in terror beneath a gag.
Oh.... Chryoshee! (Roughly translated from the ancient language as “Oh Rats”) Why do I have to have this sense of duty all of the time! He crawls to the back of the dumpster, stands up, and mumbles something into his bag again before pulling out a pistol-like device. Shouldering his bag, he steps out into the light... but the two people have vanished. He takes cover behind a telephone pole and listens intently, but there are no noises to be heard within a mile of where he’s standing. In disbelief, he steps out from behind the telephone pole and looks around scratching his head. “They couldn’t have just disappeared...” he says aloud. “Or could they?...” he continues as he takes his bag off again.
This time, he reaches for a side pocket and pulls out what looks like a pair of old glasses who’s lenses made of amber and are about as thick as the bottoms to two old Coke bottles. He shoulders his bag and puts them on. Through the lenses, the area is slightly lit up with an eerie glow... “Odd..” he says to himself. He looks to where he last saw the feet and sure enough, a small tear mark is visible in the air before him. “And what have we here?” he asks himself aloud, completely puzzled. He’d never seen anything like it before. Usually dimensional tears are in solid objects so that the object can act as an anchor for it. Now, if there’s one thing any gnome enjoys, it’s a new puzzle. They are masters in the areas of puzzles and games, so anything new and out of the ordinary can instantly become a puzzle for them to solve. They, Indiana especially, hates to quit before a puzzle is solved; unless, of course, the puzzle becomes life threatening.
He circles the glowing tear and realizes that the same eerie glow is what illuminates the whole area. He sees a flash off to his right and another rip appears, just as the one in front of him disappears. “What the?!” he exclaims and ducks behind the dumpster again as a small group of little people come out of the new tear. He removes the glasses to get a clearer view of the new arrivals. They are all small, a little taller than he is and skinnier too, but they look oddly familiar. Then he notices one of them putting makeup on to cover his silvery black skin. Black elves form the underworld?! Here?! Now?! What on earth for?! Just then he remembers Mc Intyre saying that he thought he’d seen some elves in town, but he wasn’t quite sure. Just as he’d gotten close to them, they’d disappeared almost as if they knew he was following them. I’ve got to find the watchers and warn them! If they get too close to what they’re doing, the watchers are as good as dead!


That night, Indiana doesn’t sleep very well. Nightmares of black elf slave camps, memories of torturous days and hellish nights and the loss of his best friend, Jabber, make for a hard sleep. Several times, he awakes and checks to make sure that the elves are nowhere near him. Fear has crept back into his life. Black elves are a brutal race that take what they want, whenever they want, and stop nowhere near short of their goal. In fact, they often get so full of themselves, that they take all and leave nothing behind, especially if they are on a particularly good streak.
He meets Officer Mc Intyre in the morning, disheveled, but happy to see the policeman coming to share the morning news with Indiana. “Yah look like crap Indie! What ya been up to now?” He says in his heavy irish voice. “Here. Drink yer hot-cocoa. Looks like you could use it.” Indiana takes it, sips, and looks up at Officer Mc Intyre as he sits on the bench opposite and pulls out his paper. He begins to think it was only a dream, until he sees a picture on the front page of the paper with a bold heading above it saying, “SECOND CHILD KIDNAPED FROM ORPHANAGE, POLICE LEFT CLUELESS”. And, in the picture of children at the orphanage, is one of the black elves he’d seen the night before, all dressed up like an orphan himself.
“...a just hear what I was askin’ ya Indie?” Officer Mc Intyre’s voice seemed to swim through his thoughts and settled on his brain at last.
“What?... No. But I really need to tell you something important Mc Intyre.” He says as he leans forward on his bench.
“An what would that be Indie? Have ya found Gunthar?”
“No....” He hadn’t thought of Gunthar since he’d witnessed the eerie scene the night before.
“What is it then? Go on laddie... Speak up.”
“It’s... It’s just that... You need to be careful about approaching elves.”
“Why?... Are they gonna ride me about not protectin’ the environment?” Officer Mc Intyre tries to joke, but it’s clear there is a deeper meaning to all of this. “What are’n ya tellin’ me Indie?” He asks, now leaning forward himself.
There is a still moment between them, then Indiana gulps and whispers, “‘Because not all elves are worried about the forest depletion or about having a good supply of ale...”
Officer Mc Intyre takes it in slowly.... A look of shock slowly fills his face, as if wiped on. “Surely ya can’t mean....” He begins, not wanting to finish the phrase he’d rather not have ever even started.
“Black elves.” Indiana whispers as if the words would bring them there at that precise moment.
“Ya can’t be serious! But I thought they were all gone to some dark dimension?!”
“Yeah... Well so did I! Until last night.” Officer Mc Intyre realizes how unnatural he might look to passers, so he sits up and Indiana continues. After he finishes reporting what he saw, he says, “I so wanted it to be a bad dream, but then I saw your paper.” He stands up, walks over to Officer Mc Intyre’s bench and closes his paper. Pointing at the picture he says, “That’s one of them right there!” Officer Mc Intyre snatches the paper for a closer look.
“That’s the laddie I was followin’ the other day, tinkin’ it was an elf for sure!” Pausing for a gulp, he looks at Indiana. “Well, least we have a picture! I’ll warn the others.” He gets up to leave and then spins to face Indiana. “You don’t tink they got Gunthar do ya?”
“I doubt it! Magic doesn’t work too well on gargoyles, and not much better on half gargoyles.” He smiles hopefully at Officer Mc Intyre. “Gunthar’s too smart to get caught in one of their traps anyway.” He finishes, only half believing himself as Officer Mc Intyre turns and breaks off into a run across Statue Park.


Across town at the Humbolt Orphanage and School, the new kid is causing trouble. His shiny black hair is straight and long. After the school bully tried to cut it, he found himself upside down, held by his ankle. “Lemme down!” he yells. And so, the new kid drops him on his face. The bully stands up, holding his bloodied lip, and yells for a teacher to hear. Normally, the other kids would be laughing at this, but the look in the new kid’s eyes is enough to silence them all from saying anything. His smile is one of pleasure rather than happiness and he looks as though he wanted to get caught. Just then, a large woman wearing a big purple dress comes around the corner of the building. The bully runs up to her and starts crying into her dress. She stoops and listens to him, then stands up quickly, stomping her foot to the ground.
“Norville!” She yells and walks up to him with rage in her face. The new kid, Norville, looks up at her with a fake look of fear on his face. “Did you do this to Jonathan?” She yelled pointing back at the bully, but not looking at him. Jonathan was laughing quietly behind the woman’s back.
“Y-yes, Mrs. Milly...” He feigned fear as he answered her.
“Up to the Principal’s office! Right now, young man!”
“Y-yes mam....” He mumbled fearfully as he passed her and headed towards Jonathan. As he passed him, he gave Jonathan an evil smile and his eyes momentarily flashed bright green. Jonathan sank away from him. And Norville headed towards the principal’s office.
Once outside of the Principal’s office, he seated himself in a chair, watching the secretary typing up some report. When she finished, she looked up at him and recognized him right away. “Oh, Norville...” She said rather sadly. “Are you already in trouble?”
“Yeah, I guess so...” He said, again feigning fear and sadness.
“I’ll let him know you’re here so you can get it over with.” She said and knocked on the Principal’s door.
“Thanks Miss Wilkins.” he says grinning, as her back is to him.
“He’ll see you now, Norville.” She said, holding the door open for him to go in.
Principal Dood was behind his desk, already reading Norville’s file when he sat in the chair before him. “So... Norville, is it?” he asked, looking down at the new kid. Since you’re fairly new here, let me tell you a few things about the discipline here at this orphanage.” He begins, sitting down in his chair. “We do not tolerate bullies.” He continues, leaning his chin onto the knuckles of his clasped hands. “But seeing as this is you first offense, and...” He begins to trail off as Norville pulls something from his pocket. “What are you doing? Listen to me when I’m talking to you.” He demands.
“No... Norville says in a particularly grainy voice, which is truly evil. “You will listen to me...” He grins as he blows a small handful of dust into the Principal’s face. The Principal goes limp for a second, then sits up and asks in a rather flat voice, “What is your bidding?



Later that afternoon, Indiana is getting ready to hop the fence of Statue Park to look in the Industrial District again, when a loud crash gets his attention. He spins and ducks behind a tree. He hears moaning and a light smell of hazel wafts through the air. Slowly, Indiana makes his way from tree to statue, to tree again until he sees what has made this noise. Lying on the ground, in a state he’d never before seen him in, was Gunthar! “Gunthar!” He whispers loudly, and dashes to his side. “Gunthar! Where have you been and what did this to you?” Gunthar looks up into Indiana’s face and says aloud only one word before passing out.

“...Gargoyles!”


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