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It took me a while to write this, but here's my entry to the Dreamkeepers Halloween fanart contest https://dreamkeepers-fans.deviantar.....test-705162811 a story of one Dreamkeepers search for a birthday present made way, way weirder than it should be.
No characters belong to me except the antagonist, and as I don't own his species, I technically don't own him either. All of them belong to
Dreamkeepers
~
Paige was lucky, technically speaking. While she sat in the orphanage wondering where her best friends Mace and Whip went, it was still her birthday and miraculously she had the day off. She should have been running along the beach, or going into town, something, anything instead of sitting here doing nothing.
Her eyes gazed over the rushing waves. Aside from her friends, the only company she ever had was the sea, well, when it wasn't reminding her of her 'caring benefactor and warm home'.
But her serene watch wouldn't last however. Her nose caught a sudden odor. Not like the unmistakable Bander scent she'd grown used to, not was it the smell of aged driftwood. No, instead it was metallic, like iron and hung heavily in the air.
She swiveled back to see Mace and Whip, their fur tousled and ragged, blood staining them from head to toe, with poor Whip in particular looking like the survivor of a haunted fondue fountain.
Not that Paige has ever seen a fondue fountain, but she could imagine this was one fondue fountain she never wanted to see.
“Spirits!” She shrieked “Mace?! Whip?! Wh-wha- who? How?!...”
Mace looked at Paige with a smile, making her feel a little better. He walked up to her and sat down by her side.
“Hi Paige...I know how I...look, don't worry.
“None of it's ours.”
“*Sigh* I really wish that fat lump actually paid us” He reached into his right side pocket “I could've avoided all of this, y'know?”
Mace withdrew a lovely little bauble, a fist sized marble scraw that soured through the air. Paige's eyes were briefly averted from Mace's appearance, awestruck at the care that went into its sculpting.
“Mace...” her eyes narrowed, remembering the knossus in the room “Ummm...what are you covered in blood?”
“Oh this? Well this is the new look from Sabbaton, all the cool kids are getting caked in blood.”
The words didn't restore the color draining from Paige's fur “
“Well, it's a longer story than it should be...”
~
“Nubabba tor skreee?” Whip inquired at their latest find.
Mace was just as unimpressed as a Ruskol skating judge “I thought we agreed Whip, no driftwood.”
“Hyhyn luj.”
“I don't care what it looks like...and also, that wood looks more like a blob than a moon.”
The blue little flier hung his head low and flew over the surface of the desolate beach to drop off the wood he thought would make a suitable gift for Paige.
They'd been walking for three hours, however despite searching a few caves, combing the shores and even scounging through the lofty dunes all over the coast, no present had been found, a quest as empty as the Margate beaches were.
“Jiabet wowij ma kittle?”
“I know Whip...it's just, we've stolen a lot of stuff haven't we? I...I just don't wanna this time, it doesn't feel right.
“Besides, you remember our last trip to the market.”
Whip shivered, he definitely remembered “Gegegegehj waaaats!”
“Exactly...Man, I mean how did we survive that?”
His flying friend tried to answer, but couldn't with the sight he had in mind, instead chirping out.
“A house?” Mace looked up at the dunes. Whips eyes did not lie, several yards up the sandy hills lay a large house, several decades old.
“Wow...Whip, I think we found a new home.”
“Kaapp ji?”
“Don't be ridiculous Whip, those cobwebs have cobwebs and I can see 'em from here. Nobody's living here but ghosts.”
~
“Were there ghosts?” Paige questioned.
“Nah” bloodstained Mace sadly remarked “Honestly I thought it was abandoned...but was I wrong.”
~
Mace had entered the mansion and began poking about.
Its abandonment was certain, why else would the the doors and windows be locked and boarded? Aside from the front door, which just had a couple planks over a window.
While traipsing through a living room (which lacked the fabled 'data scroll' Mace had always wanted t watch), despite the dust, cobwebs, dead flies and spiders, beauty couldn't be hidden from his eyes.
There was a plethora of old furniture, which was probably worth something, but Mace wouldn't know anything about that. But on a shelf he saw a lovely scraw statuette, right away he knew this was the present for Paige.
He walked on over, cautiousl picked it up and dusted it off “Ahhhh...perfect.”
Yet as Mace proceeded to turn, the shout that would have summoned Whip died in his throat, because a mortifying vision strolled in.
There was an elderly wide-eyed weasel in torn clothes strolling in, with a woman's headless cadaver tucked under his arm, and a bloody cleaver in his other palm.
Mace had never seen a horror film in his life but he knew the general plots they entailed, and he never, ever expected to be in one.
“Spirits! A house-guest...And he isn't dead! How can this be?!”
Mace had no words...well actualy he did “Okay...now you're clearly busy carrying bodies and...making blood sandwiches. So since I am not, uh, dead, I'll just go out the back-”
“NO! No you can't!”
The old man dropped the corpse and looked to the heavens “Hallelujah! Another contender has arrived!”
“What?”
“I see you're admiring my scraw.”
“Oh...well no offense-”
“Abandoned?! Of course not!” The crazed codger howled “These webs of etheral light, and my forelorn treasures draw many into this grand colluseum, in the spirit of the games!”
Whip wisped by an open doorway, drawn by the noise. He wisely opted out of entering the conversation.
The old bastard continued “As I do with all my prey, I young man, shall grant you a challenge to avoid death ordained by the spirits themselves. If you can leave this house, I shall not kill you, and will allow you to keep that chunk.”
“Uhhh, what if I say no?”
“No harm done” the geezer shrugged “I'll just cut your head off and mount it. It'll be fun.”
“...I'll start running.”
“Wonderful!”
~
Paige's blood had curdled, and her poor mind was weirded out Lovecraft style “Wh-what kind of man ju-just kills people like that?”
“Someone who makes scraw nests in his hair...I dunno what that guy's deal was, he seemed like he stared at the sun for six months.”
“So...how did you make it? D-did you run out of the door?”
Mace chuckled lightly “I wish, I mean clearly I got out. It just took a while.
“For one thing, that old buzzard didn't go to Grunn's school. He locked the door when he entered, found that out the hard way. That jerk came at me with a butterfly net and fire poker when I was yanking that handle but I splut...luckily for me the house was pretty big. I'd like to say escape was easy buuuuut...all I can say is, that old freak had some legs on him.
“He...he chased me around that whole wreck for about twenty minutes before I finally hid in a toilet bowl.”
The little girl bore the perplexing look one normal reserved for seeing a grizzley bear to the Kazatsky “How did you f-”
“DON'T ASK!” Mace looked like he'd just seen his non-existent firstborn son fall off a cliff.
So did Whip “Gooht lalkt.”
“Exactly, now after about half an hour of waiting, he finally left. Apparently to look for a pot roast, then I made my move...”
~
Mace squeezed out of the toilet, silently glad Grunn underfed everyone for once. And slipped down the hallway with actual cat-like tread.
He snuck over a long, mythologically influenced carpet, depicting Dreamkeepers in battle with Nightmares.
Mace was positive one of the keepers looked exactly like this old bastard.
The young dreamkeeper was chased through the ballroom, billiard room, sauna, dining room, various closets and bedrooms, an art gallery and another parlor. He was just glad he wasn't hiding in the kitchen again.
Mace figured that the one place the madman wouldn't think to look, before deciding on using the john, was the oven...nobody in Anduruna would be that stupid, except him apparently.
Unfortunately, that man planned to do baking earlier and just then remembered to preheat the oven. If it hadn't been for the spying Whip's timely interference, Mace would have been slow roasted. The madman thought nothing of Whip, and rushed out ahead of Mace screaming “Nightmare! Nightmare!”
Like they were real.
While hiding, Whip had slipped into the bathroom in search of Mace, and a plan had been devised.
Mace slipped through the antiquated, rotting hall, not minding the surprisingly recent, homemade piping system, he had only one obstacle between him and salvation, the stairs.
These creaking menaces have doomed stealth attempts before, so Mace hoped for the best, treading down like a minefield, and hoping Whip had found what they needed.
Carefully scanning the area around the base of the stairwell, the orphan stepped out and approached the door “Whip” he whispered “Hey Whip, where are you?”
The blue flier floated out of a vase resting on a pedestal, similarly whispering “Crehba huy”, in his tail he clutched a small crowbar Mace had seen in a closet.
“Good...now, hand it over.”
Carefully, Whip extended his tail to Mace, who grabbed it like he was snatching a hot dog.
“Alright, now-”
“The child made his move!” The familiar voice rang out, storming down the hall with a machete in hand.
“Whip!”
The blue furball flew into action, baring his teeth and soaring towards the old freak “Ugga-bugga-bugga!”
“AHHHH! The demon returns...AGAIN!”
The insane geezer fled back down the hall, with a snapping Whip at his heels.
Mace turned to the exit. Sure the front door was locked, but the window inside it wasn't, just carefully boarded up, barely a glint of glass.
He took that bar and pulled like a monster, frantically yanking and forcing the spiritdamned boards to yield to his survival instincts.
His fingers filled up with splinters, blisters and some small cuts because of his frantic tearing.
He smashed through the other side with a punch, Mace's heart raced like a springer round in motion, and when he heard the frantic dash of the old bastard. He leapt through the tiny hole with agility he shouldn't have had.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The old freak wailed.
Whip shot rihgt out through the hole, just as t he elderly weasel smashed through the door “You win! You win! Run! Go free!”
“...Okay?”
“Yes! I must suffer...” he raised his machete up in the air “DEFEAT!”
Then he savagely impaled himself, covering Mace in blood from twenty feet away.
“AAAAAAUGH!” Mace shrieked.
“Let flow...the prizes of the fallen!” In his last moments, the weasel pulled out a small remote, pressing a button.
Then blood started shooting out of the whole house, like a giant sprinkler.
~
“...Me and Whip just stood there in shock for two minutes, until slaughter mansion just abruptly collapsed.”
Mace sighed “It's eleven and after all this...gift hunting, hammocks are looking pretty good right now.”
Silently Paige looked down at her sculpture, scarcely able to conceive the horrors Mace went through to get it.
Despite all of it, he remembered why he was there to begin with, and brought her a beautiful present.
Paige placed it on her lap, words couldn't describe how she felt, not enjoyment or even sorrow, but a profound sense of family flowed through her.
The young girl reached over to Mace and wrapped him in a deep hug “Thank you Mace” her head turned to the dripping Whip “And thank you Whip.
“The statue is beautiful, I love it...and I'm really glad you're safe.”
Mace smiled down at his sister (in spirit anyways) “I'm even more relieved, but thanks.”
“I've been waiting for you two all morning, I really do appreciate your present hunt, but honestly I'm just pleased to see you both.”
Mace embraced a little tighter “So'm I.”
“Thanks...wanna go play?”
“Paige, I'd love to” Mace grinned again “But we'll have to stop at the washroom first...”
No characters belong to me except the antagonist, and as I don't own his species, I technically don't own him either. All of them belong to
Dreamkeepers~
Paige was lucky, technically speaking. While she sat in the orphanage wondering where her best friends Mace and Whip went, it was still her birthday and miraculously she had the day off. She should have been running along the beach, or going into town, something, anything instead of sitting here doing nothing.
Her eyes gazed over the rushing waves. Aside from her friends, the only company she ever had was the sea, well, when it wasn't reminding her of her 'caring benefactor and warm home'.
But her serene watch wouldn't last however. Her nose caught a sudden odor. Not like the unmistakable Bander scent she'd grown used to, not was it the smell of aged driftwood. No, instead it was metallic, like iron and hung heavily in the air.
She swiveled back to see Mace and Whip, their fur tousled and ragged, blood staining them from head to toe, with poor Whip in particular looking like the survivor of a haunted fondue fountain.
Not that Paige has ever seen a fondue fountain, but she could imagine this was one fondue fountain she never wanted to see.
“Spirits!” She shrieked “Mace?! Whip?! Wh-wha- who? How?!...”
Mace looked at Paige with a smile, making her feel a little better. He walked up to her and sat down by her side.
“Hi Paige...I know how I...look, don't worry.
“None of it's ours.”
“*Sigh* I really wish that fat lump actually paid us” He reached into his right side pocket “I could've avoided all of this, y'know?”
Mace withdrew a lovely little bauble, a fist sized marble scraw that soured through the air. Paige's eyes were briefly averted from Mace's appearance, awestruck at the care that went into its sculpting.
“Mace...” her eyes narrowed, remembering the knossus in the room “Ummm...what are you covered in blood?”
“Oh this? Well this is the new look from Sabbaton, all the cool kids are getting caked in blood.”
The words didn't restore the color draining from Paige's fur “
“Well, it's a longer story than it should be...”
~
“Nubabba tor skreee?” Whip inquired at their latest find.
Mace was just as unimpressed as a Ruskol skating judge “I thought we agreed Whip, no driftwood.”
“Hyhyn luj.”
“I don't care what it looks like...and also, that wood looks more like a blob than a moon.”
The blue little flier hung his head low and flew over the surface of the desolate beach to drop off the wood he thought would make a suitable gift for Paige.
They'd been walking for three hours, however despite searching a few caves, combing the shores and even scounging through the lofty dunes all over the coast, no present had been found, a quest as empty as the Margate beaches were.
“Jiabet wowij ma kittle?”
“I know Whip...it's just, we've stolen a lot of stuff haven't we? I...I just don't wanna this time, it doesn't feel right.
“Besides, you remember our last trip to the market.”
Whip shivered, he definitely remembered “Gegegegehj waaaats!”
“Exactly...Man, I mean how did we survive that?”
His flying friend tried to answer, but couldn't with the sight he had in mind, instead chirping out.
“A house?” Mace looked up at the dunes. Whips eyes did not lie, several yards up the sandy hills lay a large house, several decades old.
“Wow...Whip, I think we found a new home.”
“Kaapp ji?”
“Don't be ridiculous Whip, those cobwebs have cobwebs and I can see 'em from here. Nobody's living here but ghosts.”
~
“Were there ghosts?” Paige questioned.
“Nah” bloodstained Mace sadly remarked “Honestly I thought it was abandoned...but was I wrong.”
~
Mace had entered the mansion and began poking about.
Its abandonment was certain, why else would the the doors and windows be locked and boarded? Aside from the front door, which just had a couple planks over a window.
While traipsing through a living room (which lacked the fabled 'data scroll' Mace had always wanted t watch), despite the dust, cobwebs, dead flies and spiders, beauty couldn't be hidden from his eyes.
There was a plethora of old furniture, which was probably worth something, but Mace wouldn't know anything about that. But on a shelf he saw a lovely scraw statuette, right away he knew this was the present for Paige.
He walked on over, cautiousl picked it up and dusted it off “Ahhhh...perfect.”
Yet as Mace proceeded to turn, the shout that would have summoned Whip died in his throat, because a mortifying vision strolled in.
There was an elderly wide-eyed weasel in torn clothes strolling in, with a woman's headless cadaver tucked under his arm, and a bloody cleaver in his other palm.
Mace had never seen a horror film in his life but he knew the general plots they entailed, and he never, ever expected to be in one.
“Spirits! A house-guest...And he isn't dead! How can this be?!”
Mace had no words...well actualy he did “Okay...now you're clearly busy carrying bodies and...making blood sandwiches. So since I am not, uh, dead, I'll just go out the back-”
“NO! No you can't!”
The old man dropped the corpse and looked to the heavens “Hallelujah! Another contender has arrived!”
“What?”
“I see you're admiring my scraw.”
“Oh...well no offense-”
“Abandoned?! Of course not!” The crazed codger howled “These webs of etheral light, and my forelorn treasures draw many into this grand colluseum, in the spirit of the games!”
Whip wisped by an open doorway, drawn by the noise. He wisely opted out of entering the conversation.
The old bastard continued “As I do with all my prey, I young man, shall grant you a challenge to avoid death ordained by the spirits themselves. If you can leave this house, I shall not kill you, and will allow you to keep that chunk.”
“Uhhh, what if I say no?”
“No harm done” the geezer shrugged “I'll just cut your head off and mount it. It'll be fun.”
“...I'll start running.”
“Wonderful!”
~
Paige's blood had curdled, and her poor mind was weirded out Lovecraft style “Wh-what kind of man ju-just kills people like that?”
“Someone who makes scraw nests in his hair...I dunno what that guy's deal was, he seemed like he stared at the sun for six months.”
“So...how did you make it? D-did you run out of the door?”
Mace chuckled lightly “I wish, I mean clearly I got out. It just took a while.
“For one thing, that old buzzard didn't go to Grunn's school. He locked the door when he entered, found that out the hard way. That jerk came at me with a butterfly net and fire poker when I was yanking that handle but I splut...luckily for me the house was pretty big. I'd like to say escape was easy buuuuut...all I can say is, that old freak had some legs on him.
“He...he chased me around that whole wreck for about twenty minutes before I finally hid in a toilet bowl.”
The little girl bore the perplexing look one normal reserved for seeing a grizzley bear to the Kazatsky “How did you f-”
“DON'T ASK!” Mace looked like he'd just seen his non-existent firstborn son fall off a cliff.
So did Whip “Gooht lalkt.”
“Exactly, now after about half an hour of waiting, he finally left. Apparently to look for a pot roast, then I made my move...”
~
Mace squeezed out of the toilet, silently glad Grunn underfed everyone for once. And slipped down the hallway with actual cat-like tread.
He snuck over a long, mythologically influenced carpet, depicting Dreamkeepers in battle with Nightmares.
Mace was positive one of the keepers looked exactly like this old bastard.
The young dreamkeeper was chased through the ballroom, billiard room, sauna, dining room, various closets and bedrooms, an art gallery and another parlor. He was just glad he wasn't hiding in the kitchen again.
Mace figured that the one place the madman wouldn't think to look, before deciding on using the john, was the oven...nobody in Anduruna would be that stupid, except him apparently.
Unfortunately, that man planned to do baking earlier and just then remembered to preheat the oven. If it hadn't been for the spying Whip's timely interference, Mace would have been slow roasted. The madman thought nothing of Whip, and rushed out ahead of Mace screaming “Nightmare! Nightmare!”
Like they were real.
While hiding, Whip had slipped into the bathroom in search of Mace, and a plan had been devised.
Mace slipped through the antiquated, rotting hall, not minding the surprisingly recent, homemade piping system, he had only one obstacle between him and salvation, the stairs.
These creaking menaces have doomed stealth attempts before, so Mace hoped for the best, treading down like a minefield, and hoping Whip had found what they needed.
Carefully scanning the area around the base of the stairwell, the orphan stepped out and approached the door “Whip” he whispered “Hey Whip, where are you?”
The blue flier floated out of a vase resting on a pedestal, similarly whispering “Crehba huy”, in his tail he clutched a small crowbar Mace had seen in a closet.
“Good...now, hand it over.”
Carefully, Whip extended his tail to Mace, who grabbed it like he was snatching a hot dog.
“Alright, now-”
“The child made his move!” The familiar voice rang out, storming down the hall with a machete in hand.
“Whip!”
The blue furball flew into action, baring his teeth and soaring towards the old freak “Ugga-bugga-bugga!”
“AHHHH! The demon returns...AGAIN!”
The insane geezer fled back down the hall, with a snapping Whip at his heels.
Mace turned to the exit. Sure the front door was locked, but the window inside it wasn't, just carefully boarded up, barely a glint of glass.
He took that bar and pulled like a monster, frantically yanking and forcing the spiritdamned boards to yield to his survival instincts.
His fingers filled up with splinters, blisters and some small cuts because of his frantic tearing.
He smashed through the other side with a punch, Mace's heart raced like a springer round in motion, and when he heard the frantic dash of the old bastard. He leapt through the tiny hole with agility he shouldn't have had.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The old freak wailed.
Whip shot rihgt out through the hole, just as t he elderly weasel smashed through the door “You win! You win! Run! Go free!”
“...Okay?”
“Yes! I must suffer...” he raised his machete up in the air “DEFEAT!”
Then he savagely impaled himself, covering Mace in blood from twenty feet away.
“AAAAAAUGH!” Mace shrieked.
“Let flow...the prizes of the fallen!” In his last moments, the weasel pulled out a small remote, pressing a button.
Then blood started shooting out of the whole house, like a giant sprinkler.
~
“...Me and Whip just stood there in shock for two minutes, until slaughter mansion just abruptly collapsed.”
Mace sighed “It's eleven and after all this...gift hunting, hammocks are looking pretty good right now.”
Silently Paige looked down at her sculpture, scarcely able to conceive the horrors Mace went through to get it.
Despite all of it, he remembered why he was there to begin with, and brought her a beautiful present.
Paige placed it on her lap, words couldn't describe how she felt, not enjoyment or even sorrow, but a profound sense of family flowed through her.
The young girl reached over to Mace and wrapped him in a deep hug “Thank you Mace” her head turned to the dripping Whip “And thank you Whip.
“The statue is beautiful, I love it...and I'm really glad you're safe.”
Mace smiled down at his sister (in spirit anyways) “I'm even more relieved, but thanks.”
“I've been waiting for you two all morning, I really do appreciate your present hunt, but honestly I'm just pleased to see you both.”
Mace embraced a little tighter “So'm I.”
“Thanks...wanna go play?”
“Paige, I'd love to” Mace grinned again “But we'll have to stop at the washroom first...”
Category Story / All
Species Exotic (Other)
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File Size 25.5 kB
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