Cover Design by TEN21 Design Company An Affiliate of BSIC Publishing Cover Copyright © 2012 TEN21 Design Company Cover Copyright © 2012 BSIC Publishing Company Sir Logan P. Shenanigans A Sir Shenanigans Short Story By Christopher Lee Cousino SMASHWORDS EDITION PUBLISHED BY: BSIC Publishing on SMASHWORDS Sir Logan P. Shenanigans A Sir Shenanigans Short Story Copyright © 2012 by Christopher Lee Cousino Copyright © 2012 by BSIC Publishing Company SMASHWORDS Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work. This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, locations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person, living or deceased, is completely coincidental. “AFTER DARK, ALL CATS ARE LEOPARDS.” A NATIVE AMERICAN PROVERB Sir Logan P. Shenanigans Chapter 1 Oy Veh! Is it that hard to get it right? I purr and I go through the trouble of rubbing myself up against my master’s leg, and he cannot get this right! The most important thing to me, the thing I need more than anything. My true love. My dinner. After putting on my show for my master, I had pranced happily to my food dish, expecting a delicious dinner for my troubles…and what do I find you ask? Well, I can tell you what wasn’t in my dish! Meow Mix, I think not. Kit and Kaboodle, the Meow Mix knockoff, but still just as delicious…of course not. For Garfield’s sake, I would even take a scoop of 9 Lives right now, but was that even in my bowl? No. Want to know what was? Science. Diet. Science Diet! My master might as well have scooped my “unmentionables” from the litter box and tossed them right into my food dish. Science Diet…what the nip? I can only come to one conclusion from his choice of edibles for me, his most cherished feline. My master believes me to be fat. I admit, I am a bit more, um…big boned than most cats. Tipping the scales at 20 pounds is not something to be ashamed of. That is what I always tell myself. I am debonair, handsome, and I can charm the fur right off a beautiful fuzzy senorita. Look at this body, take it all in my friends. Yes, it is all muscle, believe me. Or, at least, all the muscle is somewhere under my softer side. My girth is of no matter, for it is important to have it for my true tasks. For my night-time adventures. But I’m getting ahead of myself, how rude of me. Let me introduce myself. My name is Sir Logan P. Shenanigans. I go by many variations of my full name. My master and his kin call me Logan for the most part. My enemies call me Sir Shenanigans. My friends call me Shenanigans. And the ladies...my beautiful, adoring temptresses of the feline variety…they call me Satisfying. Yes, ha HA! Okay, but seriously, all kidding aside. Not that I was kidding about what the ladies call me, that is quite true. But, now that you know my name, it is time that you know my true calling. After the sun goes down, and the moon rises high into the sky, that is when I fulfill my destiny. That is when I save the world. Once my master, his wife, and their children are fast asleep, I start my hunt. For you see, I am not just any cat. Nooo, no-no-no-no. No, my friends. I am a member of a secret society of fighting domesticated animals. What do I fight, you inquire? Well, evil of all kinds, of course. When the darkness envelops our world, I don my trenchcoat, boots, and mask…and I kick monsters’ tushies. Yes, monsters. I battle all sorts of beasts that all of you, just like my master, have always believed to be fiction. Something created and living only in movies or books. But they are real, I can assure you. Sometimes I must wage war against the filthy evil hooligans themselves…but most of the time, I must rid the world of their pets. Yes, you heard me right. Even Dracula had a cat. And a dog. It was a massive St. Bernard. Went by the name Biscuits. But biscuits were not his treat of choice, oh I think not. But he is of no consequence to our conversation…especially after I slayed him! My impressive accomplishments aside, back to what I said earlier, monsters are real. Vampires, werewolves, ghouls, skinwalkers, zombies and demons. All of them. And a lot of them have furry little friends of some kind. They live amongst you, but both they and their pets stay in the shadows. And it is up to me and the other members of our secret hunting society to make sure they stay there…or that they are destroyed. Our secret society is known as EPS, Evil Pet Stalkers. We were created to do battle with the despicable pets of the monsters themselves. The human monster hunters have enough to do, and some of them had a hard time ganking a sweet looking little kitten. Of course, they’d wished they had after the same sweet little kitten ripped their throat out. So, EPS was formed and we have been doing our part in the battle against evil for years. Thanks to EPS, I have many weapons and tools I wage my war on evil with. They, along with my Stalker costume, are kept in a secret place in my master’s home. In a place that he would never look. I have a small chest hidden in the floorboards of the laundry room in the basement. My master is a simple man, and I do not recall a time when he has ever been in the room used for cleaning soiled linens. His wife, on the other hand, is there frequently. But she does the family laundry on a schedule, so I just plan my inventory checks around her. How I got the chest of weapons, how I became an Evil Pet Stalker, and how I came to live with my master and his family, the Cousinos, are all topics for another time. For now, I have an Evil Pet to Stalk. Chapter 2 It started a few days ago, when I was sitting on a window sill, sunbathing and enjoying some fresh air. My dear friend from down the street, SnickerDoodle, approached my window perch from the outside. You see, SnickerDoodle was an outside cat, an alley cat as his kind are called. The scallywag would convince random families to let him inside here or there when the weather was too nasty or he needed a good cleaning, or a good meal. But, for the most part, he was a roamer. Free to go where he pleased, as he pleased. SnickerDoodle was my informant on the streets, able to speak to animals in the area and keep an eye on the going ons outdoors during the day, when I was stuck playing my role of gorgeously handsome housecat. SnickerDoodle was also a brilliant swordsmith, having my back in many a fight. Although not an official member of EPS, I trusted him with my life and considered him to be my kin. Placing his paws on the siding of the house, he stretched up towards me so that he could keep his voice low. SnickerDoodle was a medium sized cat, lean from living the life of a roamer. His fur was the color of SnickerDoodle cookies, hence the name. Looking around with bright green eyes, he spoke to me in a hushed voice. “Hey Shenanigans, how’s it going?” Glancing behind me to make sure none of the Cousino household was within earshot, I responded. “I am well, my friend. Do you bring news?” “Yes, and it isn’t good.” He said. “Tell me, good sir. What is this bad news you carry?” I said, anxiously awaiting his answer. “You remember SnowCone, the fluffy white cat over on Johnson Street?” Ah yes, of course I remembered him. “SnowCone, yes. A bit rude, very full of himself. I believe the scamp called me chubby at the neighborhood’s yearly cat Christmas party last year.” SnickerDoodle nodded. “That’s the guy. Well, he’s dead.” Oh my. “You don’t say? What happened, Snick?” “Not sure, but they found him in the backyard, half buried in the ground, his pompous fuzzy butt sticking up out of the ground. Trail of blood all the way from his little bed inside the house. The family thinks it was a burglar, but you and me know better. What do you think it could have been?” Hmm. I considered the facts. Something got into the house undetected and killed SnowCone without much of a struggle. That meant the killer was very cunning and stealthy, and quite strong. To overpower a big cat like SnowCone without a struggle would take some muscle. SnowCone wasn’t quite my size, but he was at least 12 pounds if I had to wager a guess. Then it dragged him into the backyard and tried to bury him. Burying things in the backyard was a canine trait, so we were most likely dealing with a dog. But what kind of evil creature was this dog? Could be a vampire mutt, haven’t dealt with one of them for a bit. One way to find out. “Snick, what kind of wound did old SnowCone have? And how much blood was at the scene?” SnickerDoodle dropped down, licking the top of his paw and rubbing it on his head, bathing himself. “Sorry, Shenanigans, but all this talk of blood and murder makes me feel dirty. Just need to give myself a quick bath. You understand.” “Of course, of course my compadre. I shall give you a moment to compose yourself. These are dark days we live in, dear SnickerDoodle. Dark days indeed.” I gave my friend a moment, then continued. “Now, what of my questions. The wound? The amount of blood?” Finishing up his bath and feeling much cleaner, SnickerDoodle once again was able to focus on our conversation. “Well, this wasn’t a vampire pet if that’s what you’re thinking. The wound was in SnowCone’s belly, his guts were ripped open. No bite on the neck. And there was way too much blood left behind for a bloodsucker to have been the culprit. Ideas?” Intriguing. There were a few options for what kind of beast would eat the guts of another, and leave large amounts of blood behind. Weighing all the variables, there just wasn’t any way to be sure what it was at the time. “Well, Snick, we just don’t have enough info. Keep an ear to the ground and let me know if you learn of anything else. I will search for more clues on my nightly patrol. Be careful out there SnickerDoodle, we have a mystery killer on the loose.” SnickerDoodle nodded. “You too, Shenanigans. Godspeed.” As my friend turned to leave, I heard a voice call out from behind me and winced. Then I rolled my eyes. Here we go. “Snickey! Snickey is that you?” Nutmeg, my “sister” of sorts. Only 2, she was much younger than my mature age of 9 years old. But she was only two years younger than SnickerDoodle, who was 4. Poor Snick was smitten with her, and she was in awe of him. Nutmeg had been taken in by the Cousinos around the same time as me. She had been a stray kitten, found by my master’s wife. A true animal lover, Mrs. Cousino had been unable to leave little Nutmeg out in the wilderness. So, they adopted her. I believe a small part of Nutmeg still missed the outdoor life, which made Snick a rockstar in her eyes. She was by my side, paw on the screen before I knew what was going on. SnickerDoodle had returned, and he too had his paw on the screen, right over hers. Gag me now. “My dear, delicate Nutmeg. How are you today, my calico maiden?” Nutmeg batted her eyes. “I’m well, my sweet adventurer. How is the outside world?” “It is wonderful, but not as wonderful as you, my petunia.” Nutmeg sighed. Oy Vey. Time for me to go. “I am feeling a bit sick to my stomach, so I believe I will go rest for a bit. Good day to you SnickerDoodle. Nutmeg.” Neither acknowledged my departure with more than a nod as they gazed into one another’s eyes. Jumping to the floor, I padded my way to my bed and curled up, getting cozy. Nodding off to the sound of Nutmeg’s giggles. Chapter 3 For the next couple nights, my patrols turned up nothing. I could find no clues, no trace of the killer. And they stayed quiet, not taking another victim. Until yesterday, when the killer made a big mistake. They started killing again. Mr. Wrinkles, a kind old Shar Pei, was found in the same fashion as SnowCone. Partially buried in the backyard, guts ripped open, and a trail of blood leading from the victim’s favorite sleeping spot. Old Mr. Wrinkles lived close to me, and he had always been so kind and friendly. I never liked when innocents were killed, even when it’s an unrefined, insensitive jerk like SnowCone. But when a good boy like Mr. Wrinkles gets brutally murdered by a cowardly monster for no reason, well that just angers me beyond explanation. I knew I had to avenge my old friend. SnickerDoodle said this time, unlike the last murder, there was a clue. The killer had slipped up. A trail of bloody prints led away from the corpse of Mr. Wrinkles, paw prints to be exact. The cops believed them to be from some poor animal that was curious and stumbled upon the scene. But they were wrong. Those paw prints were from the killer. I needed to see them. Now, as I said before, I work hard to maintain my cover of being a regular housecat. So, I never go out during the day. Not unless there is an emergency. This definitely fell in that area. I needed to get to the prints before they were destroyed in any way. There wasn’t a call for rain, but I couldn’t risk waiting for nightfall. Mr. Wrinkles’ owner would most likely want to erase any sign of the terrible tragedy that befell their beloved puppy dog. So, I had to move. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to don my stalking wardrobe. Nor would I be able to walk and run upright on two feet, my true form of mobility. If I were seen, it may not go well. It would be hard to explain why a cat was running around on two legs with a trenchcoat, boots, and a mask. Much less why they were carrying weapons. The human mind can only handle so much. Plus, as an agent of EPS, I am sworn to secrecy. No gear and four legs during sunlight hours. Those are the rules. SnickerDoodle was going to meet me soon, and I needed an escape plan. My master was at work, as was his wife. That just left their two offspring. A boy and a girl. And their babysitter. She was busy texting her boyfriend. Why humans feel the need to send messages on a device that allows you to physically talk to the person, I will never understand. Regardless, she would not be an issue. The boy, only three, was napping, so he was no worry either. The girl, on the other hand, would be. She was seven and an animal lover. Brushing, petting, holding, hugging…and sometimes, dress up time. There is not much that embarrasses a warrior like myself, but being forced to wear doll clothes and have a tea party with stuffed animals is one thing that does. Luckily, Nutmeg was around. “Logan, where are you?” Oh no, the girl. She was looking for me, probably to do something terrible. I needed to find Nutmeg and convince her to offer herself to the girl in my stead. Galloping through the house, I slid to a stop as I found my adoptive sister playing with a string in the living area. I wasted no time as I quickly approached her. “Nutmeg, my dear sister. I need your help.” Dropping the string, she looked at me with concern. “What is it brother?” “Did you hear of Mr. Wrinkles’ death?” Her face grew sad. “Yes, he was a kind old boy. When I was a stray, he would always bring me food and water when I needed it. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. Are you going to get the bastard that killed him?” “That is what I need your help with. SnickerDoodle said there were some paw prints left at the scene from the killer. I need to see them before they are destroyed, so I need to go out in the daytime.” Nutmeg’s eyes grew big. “And you want me to come with you!? Finally, you are going to give me a chance to prove myself to you. I want to be a stalker just like you, I can do it. I’m brave, quick and I’ve been practicing my combat skills with SnickerDoodle. Let me get my nun chucks and show you.” Did she say nun chucks? Oh fleas and ticks, I would have to talk with Snick. I’ve told him not to encourage Nutmeg’s aspirations to be a stalker. She is too young, too small, and the job is too dangerous. There are no female stalkers in the ranks of the EPS, and the council is too ancient to ever let one be. It was for the best anyways. I didn’t want the poor girl to get hurt. I put a paw on Nutmeg’s shoulder as she frantically searched for her nun chucks. “Nutmeg, my dear beloved sister, listen to me. I’ve told you before, the EPS is no place for a sweet and kind soul such as you. I will not allow harm to come to you. But you can help me in another way.” Her shoulders sagged, as did her gaze. “Sure, brother, what do you need?” She sounded so dejected, so hurt. It broke my heart. But I had bigger problems at the moment. The young Cousino girl was closing in. “The girl is looking for me. I need you to get her attention. Just play with her and distract her so that I can make my escape.” Nutmeg shrugged off my paw. “The girl has a name, it’s Aiva. And she is pretty sweet. I don’t know why you refuse to call any of them by name. They are good to us, both of us.” Call them by name? Preposterous. The master and his kin are no more than a cog in the wheel of my elaborate cover, my secret identity. Nothing more. This was another reason why Nutmeg would never be a stalker. She got attached too easily, trusted too easily…animals and humans. The sound of the girl calling for me from just down the hall forced me into action. “That doesn’t matter right now, Nutmeg. Will you help me?” She rolled her eyes and walked past me, shoving me roughly out of the way as she did. A bit too roughly, honestly. “Sure, Logan, no problem.” Ooh, the nerve of this she-devil. To call me by my human-given name. No animal would dare call me that. Rolling my paws into fists, I calmed my nerves. I didn’t have time for a fight, and I needed her help. But later, her and I would definitely have a discussion. As Nutmeg rounded the corner, I heard the girl squeal with delight. Nutmeg played her part, meowing with equal glee. My sister was a good actress, I’d give her that. She really seemed genuine with my master and his kin. From her comment about using the humans’ real names, I couldn’t help but wonder…maybe she wasn’t acting. Thoughts for another time, I had an opening and needed to take it. I ran to the front door and, after looking around to make sure no one was watching, I stood up on two legs. It felt so good to do so, the awkward feel of four leg walking did a number on my body. Jumping up, I grabbed on to the door handle. Allowing my weight and gravity to do their part, I sunk down. Gripping the handle tightly with both hands, it turned as I lowered. Once the door clicked and opened a bit, I dropped back to the ground. Opening it slowly, I exited the house. Once outdoors, I dropped to all fours again and, kicking the door softly shut with my back paws, I took off to meet SnickerDoodle at our meeting place. Chapter 4 “Looks like we were right, these are definitely dog’s prints.” I leaned in close to the bloody paw prints on the sidewalk. Snick was next to me. “Yeah, a demented dog’s prints.” That was sure true. Mr. Wrinkles’ corpse was gone, obviously being prepared for burial somewhere. The blood had been everywhere still, however. Wrinkles’ family was gone, probably still too distraught to be around the scene of their pet’s demise. That worked in our favor. Their absence allowed me the time and privacy I needed to do a thorough search. It hadn’t been hard at all for Snick and myself to prance our way right under the yellow caution tape and into the crime scene. I thought it was strange that the tape was still up. Usually, once the body is gone and the police are finished, the tape comes down. Regardless, no one was going to be concerned with a couple of cats trotting around. The prints were pretty big, ruling out most small breeds of canine. But they weren’t huge, so that ruled out St. Bernards and dogs their size. The shape and placement of the toes, as well as the middle of the paw, narrowed it down to a few different types of dog. It was hard to say though. Starting at the hole Wrinkles had been buried in, the prints tracked through the grass and onto the sidewalk. They went a few feet, the bloody outline left by the murderer’s paws weakening before they disappeared completely. As I started to follow the trail towards the sidewalk, something else caught my eye. There was another trail of bloody paw prints, leading away from the hole in the opposite direction. These tracks were different, not from the same dog. And they led into Wrinkles’ doghouse. Could there have been two killers? If so, could the second killer still be here, close by? As I was inspecting the second set of tracks, SnickerDoodle saw me and ran over. “What are you doing, Double S.” He liked to call me that. Double S, short for Sir Shenanigans if you didn’t get it. I’m sure you did, but I like to be thorough. Nodding towards the second set of tracks, I responded to Snick. “There is a second set of tracks here, Snick. Were these here earlier when you came across the scene?” Snick was quiet. Unsure if he heard me, I looked up at my friend. He had a look on his face I’d never seen on the brave alleycat. Fear. “What is it, Snick?” He didn’t say a word, just stared wide eyed at something. And he wasn’t looking at the prints. SnickerDoodle was staring in the direction of the doghouse. As I turned to follow his gaze, he spoke in a soft tone. “I don’t think those tracks belong to Wrinkles’ killer.” I was about to ask Snick what he meant when I saw what he’d been looking at. Something had dragged itself out of the doghouse. SnickerDoodle was right, the tracks didn’t belong to the killer. They belonged to the victim. Chapter 5 Mr. Wrinkles, in the flesh…and guts. The poor thing was hurt badly. How he’d survived, I had no clue. As I watched my old friend drag himself out of the doghouse and into the daylight, my insides twisted up. This sweet dog had been like a grandpuppy to everyone in the neighborhood, myself, Nutmeg, and Snick included. Now he was fighting for his life, left for dead by a monster and by his family. By us. Well we weren’t leaving him again. But we needed to be careful. SnickerDoodle started towards Mr. Wrinkles. I stopped him with a paw on his chest. “Wait, Snick. Let’s move in towards Wrinkles nice and slow. After all the crazy things I’ve seen while working as a Stalker for the EPS, who knows what could be going on here.” Snick swallowed hard. “You think it’s him, Double S?” I hope so. “It looks like him, but I guess we’ll find out. Come on. Slow and steady now.” With that, we inched towards the mutilated form of our friend, Mr. Wrinkles. I led the way, prepared to act if it turned out to be a ruse. Without my stalker gear, I would have to put my paw to paw combat training to use. Which would be fine. It had been a while since I’d been forced to fight with nothing but my paws, but an Evil Pet Stalker never lost a fight…and neither did I. When we got within a few feet, I knew something was wrong. It was the smell. I’d smelled it before. What was it? Trying to put my claw on it, I wasn’t paying close enough attention to the source of the smell, Mr. Wrinkles, when he turned and looked at us. SnickerDoodle was, and his gasp refocused my mind on what was right in front of us. And it wasn’t good. Mr. Wrinkles only had half a face. And the half he had left opened its jaw wide, then snapped at us. Growling and snarling like a wild animal, the shredded dog lunged at us. Although missing half its body, the corpse moved very fast and nearly took off my face with a vicious snap of its half-jaw. This wasn’t Mr. Wrinkles, not anymore. I knew what the killer was now. We were dealing with a zombie, or in more ancient terms, a Laestrygonian. Or at least, a Laestrygonian virus. You see, in ancient Greek mythology, there was a race of abnormally large humans who were cannibals. Thing is, they aren’t a myth. When one of these human cannibals give in and feed, they infect their victim with a virus. If they leave anything left of their meal, the virus reanimates the victim’s corpse. All that’s left in the shredded husk is an animalistic need to feed on the flesh and brains of others. No soul, no personality, no compassion. Just hunger. Very similar to zombies, which is where that idea originated from back in the day. Or at least that’s what I’m told. Now, I’ve never thankfully gone up against a human Laestrygonian, but I have faced a few of their animal meals. Some Laestrygonians will control their hunger and eat raw meat or smaller animals that are easy to catch, after which they eat them alive or dead. Others need to hunt, crave it. They want to be “good” and not start a zombie outbreak by killing a human, so they instead go after us animals. Usually, they pick the bones of their victims, human and animal, clean. But there are times when they get lazy, and then we have a zombie outbreak on our hands. Mr. Wrinkles was proof of that. Most likely, SnowCone was going to be digging his way out of his grave soon too, if he hadn’t already. I’d have to stop by the pet cemetery tonight to make sure he was taken care of, or at least that his reanimated corpse was taken care of. Before that, I’d have to find the zombie dog that had killed both SnowCone and Mr. Wrinkles. For now, however, I had my paws full. SnickerDoodle cursed next to me before grabbing my shoulder. “Shenanigans, what the hell is that thing!?” Best to keep it simple. “Well, it isn’t Mr. Wrinkles. It’s a zombie, Snick. And the only way to stop it is to destroy its brain. Do you see any weapons close by?” As we scanned the yard, Zombie Wrinkles lunged at us again. Snick barley missed the undead dog’s bite, rolling out of the way to the left. I tried to jump onto the creature’s back, hoping I could get my hands on its neck and break it, severing the spine’s connection to the brain. But I received a powerful swat for my troubles, which sent me flying across the yard and into a privacy fence. I smacked into the fence, then collapsed to the ground in front of it. Shaking out the cobwebs, I tried to think of a plan. I needed to be careful. Even a scratch from the bastard could turn me or Snick into a zombie ourselves. Speaking of Snick, he was in the process of being backed into a corner by Wrinkles. I ran across the yard and jumped into the air, once again hoping to get to the beast’s neck. But as I flew towards him, Wrinkles turned and opened his mouth for a kill bite. I needed to think quick, seeing as I only had a split second before I landed in the mouth of a zombie dog. Attempting to grab hold of Wrinkles’ fur on his back to slow myself down, I cringed as I missed and continued towards my fate. Just before the disgusting monster could snatch me out of the air I slapped the zombie dog right across the face. As its head snapped away from me from the force of my slap, I hit the ground in a roll and popped to my feet at Snick’s side. I only felt impressed with myself for a moment, until I realized now we were both backed into a corner. Darn. Snarling and hissing, the zombie formerly known as Mr. Wrinkles closed in for his meal…and with nowhere to escape to, Shenanigans and SnickerDoodle were on the menu. Chapter 6 Mr. Wrinkles roared and, with his jaws still stretched wide open, he lunged in for the kill. I stepped in front of Snick, closing my eyes as I prepared to give my life to hopefully spare his. He’d been a good friend to me, and he would be able to look after Nutmeg. Hopefully, as Wrinkles devoured me, Snick would have an opportunity to escape to safety. Cringing and bracing myself for the painful bite that was about to come, I waited. And waited. And waited. I opened my eyes and my jaw hit the grass. Wrinkles the zombie was dead. He was lying on his stomach, eyes frozen in death and the hilt of a kitchen knife sticking out from the top of his skull, and his brains. Standing triumphantly on Wrinkles’ back, with one foot on top of their kill’s head was my savior. Nutmeg? Before I could respond, SnickerDoodle chuckled and rushed past me, swinging Nutmeg off the top of Wrinkles’ corpse and into his arms. “Oh, my warrior princess! You saved us! You saved us!” Kissing each other passionately, I gave them a moment before clearing my throat. At the sound, they both stopped and backed up from one another. I offered my paw in the direction of Nutmeg. “Thank you, sister. I owe you my life. A debt I will repay someday, that I swear to you.” She smirked as she grasped my paw and shook it. “Guess I’m not the one who is in danger of getting hurt now, am I?” I ignored the jab at me, maintaining my professional and knight-like status. Bowing to Nutmeg, I then turned to SnickerDoodle. “Come now Snick, we must follow the other prints to see if we can find clues to the whereabouts of our zombie dog who started all this.” Grabbing hold of the knife Nutmeg had used to kill Wrinkles’ reanimated corpse, I began to pry it loose. I didn’t want the knife to be traced back to my home and my master. As I attempted to free it form the Shar Pei’s skull, Nutmeg grabbed hold of the top of the knife hilt, glaring at me. “Whoa now, Mr. Fancy Paws. What do you think you’re doing? You aren’t going anywhere with my sword, and you sure as heck aren’t going after this zombie dog you speak of without me. I think I just proved myself.” Calling a common human kitchen knife a sword was bad enough, but expecting to come with me on my hunt for an ancient creature…that was just ridiculous. “Nutmeg, although I appreciate you saving Snick and myself, we have been through this. Stalking and all that comes with it is too dangerous for you. You cannot come with us, I’m sorry.” Her glare got meaner, then she glanced from me to Snick. The alleycat cleared his throat. “Um, well…Double S. Sir. Nutmeg just saved our butts, and I think we could use her. So, I guess what I’m saying is if she can’t come with us…well, then I’m not coming either.” What!? Blasphemy! Treason! What betrayal! Oh, my poor SnickerDoodle, where is your loyalty? As I looked from Nutmeg to Snick, I knew I was on the losing side of this conflict. Which was unsettling. Like I’d said, I never lost. Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “Fine, Nutmeg can come. But follow my lead.” Pulling the knife free, I tossed it to Nutmeg. She caught it and hurried over to Snick, embracing him. Turning my back to them, I began to follow the killer’s paw prints as I addressed my “partners”. “And if you would be so kind, please try to keep your hands and lips off each other long enough to ensure you don’t get us all killed. Alright?” At this, they both snickered. What childish rubbage. ***** The paw prints may have stopped being visible a few feet down the sidewalk, but my nose could still smell the traces of unseen blood left behind from each step. Hot on the trail, we’d followed the scent all the way through the neighborhood, winding up and down the streets. Finally, they led into the front yard of a home. The home of the killer. I’d done it, I’d found the evil, murdering coward. I addressed my compadres quietly. “Alright, listen up. This is the place. Our killer lives here. They must have some control over their hunger, since they’ve only killed twice. Seems like they prefer to hunt at night. So, we will scope out the place, make a plan, and then tonight, just before nightfall, we will come back and I will slay this beast.” SnickerDoodle listened intently, while Nutmeg tapped her foot with her arms crossed. What have I done to her to receive this disrespect? No matter, there were more important things to worry about. I continued. “Now, follow me around to the back. We will sneak a peek into the backyard to hopefully see our killer.” Leading them around the side of the house, I stopped at where I believed the backyard would be. There was a tall privacy fence blocking our view. We would have to find a way to see over it. But how, hmm. Standing on each other’s shoulders would not give us enough height, and although I was a skilled and powerful jumper, I would not be able to make the jump on my own. Maybe there was an object nearby that we could use, and then I could…someone clearing their throat behind me broke my brainstorming. Check that, behind and above me. Looking in the direction the throat-clearing came from, I stifled a sigh. Nutmeg had scaled an oak tree, an oak tree that had a branch overlooking the backyard. How had I missed that? I would need to do some meditating soon to refocus and re-center my concentration and skills. “You guys coming or what?” Nutmeg smiled sarcastically. With the pride and respectful nature accustomed to a warrior, I ignored my adopted sister’s continued disrespect and scaled the tree along with SnickerDoodle. Once on the branch, we all took a look into the backyard of a murderer. Turned out we got a look into something else, something much worse. SnickerDoodle gasped and I just stopped Nutmeg from diving off the tree as she cursed under her breath. I admired her bravery, but sometimes the line between bravery and a suicide mission is very blurry. To say the sight in the backyard was unsettling was an understatement. The entire yard was covered with animal corpses. Corpses half buried just as SnowCone and Mr. Wrinkles had been. Turned out I was wrong about the killer. They obviously didn’t have a grip on their hunger. Scanning the yard, I soon saw my target. Grotesque looking, the killer looked like it had been a Siberian husky at one time. Now, it looked like something that should be on a biology lab table for students to cut open. Parts of it were missing, parts of it looked inside out, and parts of it just looked rotten. It was pacing back and forth by the sliding door, which appeared to be the back entrance to the house. I had a bad feeling about that. Obviously this creature’s owner had to know what was going on. What kind of sick freak allows this to happen in their own backyard? Didn’t take long for me to realize just how big of a freak I was dealing with. The sliding door opened and the zombie dog sat down, it’s black tongue sagging out of its happy mouth. Out stepped its master…its very tall, gigantic master. A Laestrygonian, in the flesh. The human cannibal looked to be a little short of eight feet tall, and built like solid rock. The tall man rubbed his undead pet on the head, and then walked through the yard, smiling and nodding as he passed each animal corpse. He placed a finger on his chin, seemingly pondering which slain innocent animal to choose. Like it was a garden…a garden of death. As the man came across the back end of a cat, he clasped his hands and grinned. Then he grabbed the cat corpse by the tail and pulled it out of the ground as you humans would a carrot. Licking his lips, the living zombie dug in. SnickerDoodle gagged and Nutmeg growled. I just glared. This Laestrygonian was obviously sending his pet out to do his dirty work. He probably thought he was being a good little cannibal by only feeding on animals. But he was wrong. No way was he getting away with this, not on my watch…not in my town. “There is nothing we can do for our fallen brothers and sisters, my friends. We will leave now, make a plan, and then we will stick to my earlier suggestion of coming back just before nightfall. Then we shall slay both evil pet and master. This ends tonight.” Chapter 7 The sun was setting, the town I’d come to think of as my home was preparing for slumber. Humans were rounding up their offspring, heading inside to start bedtime routines. Dogs were being walked and taken out to defecate and urinate one more time before they too went to sleep. Everything in the quiet little town was winding down. But for me and my company, SnickerDoodle, my most trusted friend and sidekick, and Nutmeg, my adopted sister, our night was just beginning. We kept to the shadows that were beginning to ink their way through the waning daylight, staying hidden. It had to be that way due to our appearance. I had on my full EPS gear. Trench coat, mask, weapon belt, combat boots. I had my sword and pistol, along with some other tricks of the trade. Snick had the sword sheath I’d given him, his own sword tucked safely and securely inside. Nutmeg had found her nun chucks, letting them dangle around her neck as she ran. If anyone were to see us, they would be confused. But it was necessary that we go out earlier than I normally would for a night time patrol or hunt. We had to get to the Laestrygonian’s house, before his zombie dog left to bring back another meal. No more animals were going to die. I’d let a serial killing go on unnoticed by myself, which was unacceptable. The more I thought about the sight of all the dead animals I’d seen buried in that backyard, the more I became angry with myself. At first I’d been upset with Snick, wondering how he hadn’t known about so many missing or dead animals. But although he is my ears and eyes on the streets, not everything reaches the streets in the animal world. He is a stray, with no access to television or radio. Both of which I have and should have used to check on any animals reported missing. I am also thinking that my to-do list should have a new addition. It would be very helpful going forward if I were able to make friends with a law enforcement animal. Whether it be a German shepherd used by police in the field, or even an old precinct cat that lives where the human police work. I would have to make work of that very soon. As we came upon the house, I motioned for my allies to slow to a stop. Then I turned to address them both. “Alright, my brave soldiers, this is it. Last chance to back out. I will not hold anything against either one of you if you go home to safety. This is a fight we may not win.” Both SnickerDoodle and Nutmeg held their ground. I smiled with pride, and then continued. “Very well. I am honored to stand with two brave and fine animals such as yourselves. Do you both remember the plan?” They nodded firmly. “Okay, wonderful. Then, here we go. Be careful and good luck to you both.” I embraced them both, and then nodded. We all took our positions, waiting for our sign. ***** It was dark now, blackness enveloping and hungrily gulping up the last remaining dim rays of daylight. As the time passed, I began to worry that we’d arrived too late. That the zombie dog had already been sent out by his master. But that concern was evaporated when the front door opened and out pranced the happy little zombie dog. “Go now Frederick, bring Daddy home something yummy. That’s a good boy now. Run along.” The door shut, and just as the creature was about to cross the street, SnickerDoodle innocently walked out into view, sniffing around and playing bait. Frederick saw the cat instantly, slightly lowering his body into a hunter’s stance. Letting out a low throaty growl, Frederick began to stalk slowly forward towards Snick. My brave friend acted as if he’d just seen the zombie dog, gave a look of startle and took off running towards the tree we’d climbed earlier in the afternoon. Snick passed the tree and Nutmeg stepped out, swinging her nun chucks at the pursuing Frederick. The plan was for Nutmeg to take the zombie mutt’s legs out from under him, then I would jump down from the tree and finish him with my sword. It would have worked to perfection, except for one small mishap. Nutmeg missed. I wasn’t sure if it was nerves on her part or just bad aim, but her nun chucks hit air then grass, Frederick continuing towards SnickerDoodle unhindered. The alleycat was a fast runner, but not as fast as a demented Siberian Husky. Pulling my sword free, I grasped it tightly with both hands around the hilt. Then, concentrating to get my timing correct, I jumped into the air. Pulling my legs and hands in close, I flipped through the air as I descended. Once I neared my target, I straightened out, raised my weapon and when my feet hit the ground, my sword came down also. The trusty sharpened blade cut straight through the unknowing zombie dog’s neck. Goodbye Frederick. The body ran forward a few inches before collapsing. The head rolled to a stop next to me. Although the murdering scoundrel was destroyed, you could never be too careful when trying to kill something that was already dead. But before I could drive my blade through the incapacitated creature’s skull to finish it off completely, a pair of nun chucks flew down past my face and slammed into Frederick’s skull. A loud crack rang out. I looked at the nun chuck’s owner and nodded. Nutmeg looked away. “I’m sorry brother. I missed earlier, ruined the plan.” I shook my head. “It is okay, brave sister. You are still learning, it is not your fault.” Nutmeg cut me off. “No, you’re wrong. It is my fault. I screwed up, and you had to act. If not for you, my love would be dead. Thank you and I apologize for my rude behavior throughout the night. I was angry that you didn’t think I was ready…but you were right. I don’t deserve to fight alongside you, Shenanigans.” I sighed. “I accept your apology, Nutmeg. But you are not at fault. If you weren’t ready, it was because of me. My stubbornness and refusal to acknowledge your desire to help fight evil was unbecoming of a warrior. I should have been training you, teaching you. You have proven you would make a wonderful Evil Pet Stalker, and I would be honored to have you by my side. It is I who should be apologizing to you, sister.” I bowed. “Can you forgive me?” She put one paw on my shoulder, lifting my lowered head by the chin with the other. “Of course. I love you. Thank you, brother.” We embraced. “I love you too, sister.” Snick cleared his throat. We both looked at him. “As happy as I am to see you two be so lovey-dovey and all that, we still have a big problem inside the house to deal with.” Yes. Frederick’s master. I let go of Nutmeg, and she ran to SnickerDoodle, jumping into his arms. As they held one another, I pulled out my pistol, a Beretta 22 caliber Bobcat. Wanting to make sure I had enough ammo for the battle I was about to partake in, I opened the beauty up. All seven rounds. Spinning the barrel, I snapped it back into place. The Bobcat was the perfect size for my paws. At just under five inches in diameter, and only weighing 12 ounces, it was easy to maneuver and to carry. But its small size came at a disadvantage. I would need to get close to do any real damage. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. Replacing the Bobcat in its holster on my belt, I called softly to Nutmeg and Snick. “You lovebirds ready for this?” SnickerDoodle drew his sword and Nutmeg took a couple practice twirls with her nun chucks. Then they both nodded. I drew my own broadsword, nodding back. Then we set part two of our plan into motion. ***** I was a tad bit nervous, I had to admit. Being an Evil Pet Stalker, there wasn’t much I hadn’t seen. There wasn’t many twisted and demented animals I hadn’t fought, nor that I hadn’t defeated and slain. However, when it came to human monsters, or creatures similar to humans…I didn’t have much experience battling them. And this would be the first time I’d ever gone up against a Laestrygonian. Of course, Snick and Nutmeg didn’t know that. As we dropped down into the backyard from the tree, I calmed my nerves. My sister and my friend needed to see confidence and bravery, not fear. They stayed close as we wove our way through the garden of the dead, right up to the sliding door. Peeking in, I was happy to see the large cannibal man sleeping sound in a recliner, the television glowing. This may prove to be easier than I thought. Turning back to Snick and Nutmeg, I went over the plan again. “Well, my friends, it appears this may go smoother than I thought. The monster is sleeping in his chair. If we can slip in silently, I should be able to get close enough to behead the behemoth. Are you prepared?” Nutmeg looked around me and through the sliding door. Then she frowned. “What chair did you say he was sleeping in?” I turned back and felt my stomach tighten. The recliner was empty. He had just been there. Where did he go? Before I could make sense of his quick disappearance, a shadowy figure blocked my view as the Laestrygonian threw open the sliding door and grabbed me by my head. Tossing me roughly into his home, I flew across the room and smashed into a bookcase, collapsing to the ground in a heap as heavy books avalanched down on top of me. Quickly shaking out the cobwebs and ignoring the pain, including a broken rib, I tossed books off me and got to my feet. I was horrified to see the gigantic man holding SnickerDoodle in one hand and Nutmeg in the other. Both were struggling to get free from the grip of his giant hands. Looking back and forth between the two of them, he sneered. “Which one of you tasty little kitties should I eat first? It’s been a while since I ate me a live meal.” I’d be damned if I was going to sit by and watch my two favorite felines be eaten alive. Time to intervene. Drawing my sword, I pointed it at the fiend. “You, sir, drop my friends this instant.” The large cannibal looked at me and burst out laughing. “What are you going to do, you fat little cat? I could crush you easily with my boot. What are you supposed to be anyways with your little outfit and tiny weapons? Oh, I have got to get Frederick in here to check you out. Frederick! Here boy! Hmm, where could that dog be?” I would take great joy in telling him just where his dear Frederick was. “You want to know where your dog is, monster? Look outside.” The Laestrygonian frowned, his confidence wavering a bit as he did as I asked. Squinting out the door, he seemed about to dismiss my request when he spotted his dog. His headless, very dead dog. He whipped his head back towards me. “What did you do!?” I smiled beneath my mask. “Me? I just took out the trash.” Growling, my enemy threw Snick and Nutmeg aside, both landing loudly somewhere out of sight. I hoped they were okay, but for now I had to take care of the big angry zombie coming my way. Clenching his fists, he stomped towards me. “You come to my home, kill my dog…and then you think you can kill me!? I am going to tear you to pieces with my teeth, cat. And I will enjoy hearing you moan as I do.” I got into a fighting stance and swung my sword at him. He batted it away with a giant, meaty hand and forearm. My broadsword clanged across the floor, coming to a stop well out of my reach. My paw flew to my belt in an attempt to grab the Bobcat holstered there, but the Laestrygonian was too fast. He grabbed me around the neck and lifted me up to his face. Only inches from his mouth, I could smell the rotting animal flesh on his breath. Worse yet, he proceeded to spit in my face, at which time I could taste it. Then he addressed me as I pawed at his hand that was crushing my throat, all the while struggling and gasping for breath. “Yes little kitty, hard to breathe? Don’t worry, you won’t suffer long. After I am finished with you, I will eat your two friends. After that, I will find out where you live. Shouldn’t be too hard. I saw a nice little nametag on that calico cat over there. Your family will make a delicious meal for me. It has been ages since I ate a human. They are so much tastier than you filthy animals…especially the children.” His smile grew bigger at the mention of eating human offspring. My master…his family. This monster planned to hurt them…to kill them…to eat them. The thought of my master and his wife, as well as their offspring, including the young girl I’d been trying to escape earlier in the evening, brought about a feeling I’d never experienced as it relates to humans. Love. It was silly, they were nothing more than a part of my fabricated persona meant to protect my true identity as an agent of the EPS. But I was fooling myself believing that. Nutmeg was right, the Cousino family had been very good to her and me both. They were kind and compassionate humans, and they adored us. And, I had to admit…I adored them as well. The thought of them coming to harm brought out another emotion…rage. With my fleeing strength, I reached up a paw and raked my claws across the foul being’s face. Growling, his face twisted with anger. “You shouldn’t have done that, cat. Maybe I will just leave enough of you so that I can bring your reanimated corpse with me so that you can kill your family yourself.” This evoked another smile. I did not return a smile of my own. Not in this lifetime, scoundrel. Glaring at him, I rasped out a response as he continued to choke me. “You will not harm them.” He chuckled before responding. “And why is that, fatty?” Enough with the fat jokes. Raising my left paw and the item in it, I smiled. “Because you’re dead.” A look of confusion crossed his face, a split second before I shot him between the eyes. Like I said, the Bobcat may be small, but get close enough and it can take down anything…including an eight foot tall cannibal. His grip on my neck released instantly and I fell to the ground. As I hit the floor, landing on my feet, I watched as the Laestrygonian fell backwards like a giant tree. He smashed to the ground and lay still, dead as his murdering little doggie outside. I’d done it, I’d slain a Laestrygonian. I knew human hunters who couldn’t boast that claim. Who was I kidding, I couldn’t have done it without my faithful friends. Oh no, Nutmeg and SnickerDoodle! No sooner had the worry for them crossed my mind than I heard them both groan. I helped them both to their feet. Neither was going to be doing the kitty bop anytime soon, but they’d survive. They both looked past me at the dead Laestrygonian, a puddle of blood pooling under his head. Their eyes grew large. Nutmeg spoke first. “You killed him…you did it, Shenanigans.” Then Snick piped in. “Bravo, my friend. Bravo.” I put an arm around each of them. “Thank you both, for everything. Now, let’s go make sure all the dead pets in the backyard stay that way, shall we?” Nutmeg kept staring at the Laestrygonian. “What about…him?” “Don’t worry, the bullet I shot him with destroyed his brain. He is gone for good.” “I know, but I mean…do we just leave him? And what about all the animals’ bodies? What will this look like? Do we need to cover anything up…how does this part work?” Keeping my hands on their backs, I began guiding them forward towards the sliding door and the backyard as I responded. “Well, in the EPS we don’t really have a clean-up crew…unless there is something really damaging that could be found. Animal murders, no matter how gruesome or unexplainable they may be, don’t rate high on human law enforcement’s radar. The Laestrygonian will appear to be a sick animal murderer, and his murder will become a case. But no one will ever find his killer. Because they would never think to look for a handsome, trim cat such as myself.” Nutmeg chuckled as I grabbed my broadsword and we stepped around the dead cannibal, then exited the house. “Handsome maybe, but trim…you may be pushing it.” Then she patted my tummy and pulled her nun chucks free, heading for the nearest cadaver. More fat jokes. A weaker cat would let it get to him, maybe cry in his cat bed tonight while holding his favorite catnip toy. But luckily I was a warrior, stone cold to the pains of insults. I sure hoped Mr. Mousey was where I’d left him. Snick, Nutmeg, and myself got to work on the dead animals buried in the yard, making sure they all rested in peace. Watching my sister wield her nun chucks with the skill of a veteran warrior, and my faithful friend SnickerDoodle swing his sword with expertise, I smiled to myself. It felt good. My friends...my family…a mission complete. Another killer brought to justice. Another evil pet slain, as well as its master this time. All in a day’s work for Sir Logan P. Shenanigans, Evil Pet Stalker…and loving pet of the Cousino family. Prologue Benjamin Waggles was getting tired. He’d been running for so long…he was running out of steam. His little dachshund legs burned with strain as they moved faster than they were designed to. But he couldn’t stop, not with what was chasing him. Glancing back, he groaned when he saw it was still there. The white devil cat. He’d made a late night trip to the pet cemetery to visit the grave of his recently deceased friend, a Chihuahua named Billy BigEars. As Benjamin had been paying his respects, he’d heard a digging noise. Soon after, the digging noise was accompanied by a meowing. He thought maybe a cat was in need of assistance of some type. Although a bit scared, Benjamin was a good boy and wanted to help if he was able. So, he began following the sounds. He found more than he bargained for. Benjamin had come across a grave. The stone said “Here Lies SnowCone, Our Beloved Kitty”. The tiny wiener dog’s heart froze when he realized the sound was coming from the grave itself…under Benjamin’s feet. Shortly after, a white paw shot up through the ground, and then the rest of what was apparently SnowCone crawled out from the hole. At first, Benjamin thought maybe the poor thing had been buried alive. But that thought went out the window quickly when he noticed the body was rotting and decomposing. And the eyes of the cat were black…void of any life…of any soul. SnowCone took one look at Benjamin Waggles and growled a throaty, hungry growl. Then the beast lunged at the little dachshund. Benjamin took off running for his life, and had been ever since. It had been at least fifteen minutes, and he was going to collapse soon. He was lucky he’d made it this long, his saving grace to this point being the terrible condition of his pursuer’s body making it difficult for the evil cat to catch up to Benjamin quickly. But that was about to change. Short of breath and with his feet and legs full of pain and exhaustion, the little dog collapsed to the ground, turning just in time to see the white demon cat jump into the air, ready to pounce onto Benjamin Waggles and tear him to shreds. Benjamin closed his little eyes, waiting for a painful end. But it didn’t come. Instead, he heard the sound of what seemed to be a sword pull free from a sheath, then whisk through the air, followed by two thumps. Opening his eyes, Benjamin stared in awe. The white cat lay on the ground, its head separated from its body. Standing over top of the dead white menace was a quite robust black cat. But this was no ordinary cat. It wore a black mask, black trench coat, a utility belt of sorts, and combat boots. Benjamin’s strange rescuer drove the large sword they were holding straight through the decapitated head of SnowCone. Then said something quietly, but Benjamin had good hearing so he heard it loud and clear. “I never liked you SnowCone, but rest in peace. P.S., I’m not fat.” Then the big cat re-sheathed the sword and offered a paw to Benjamin. The still-in-awe wiener dog grabbed hold of his hero’s paw and allowed himself to be pulled onto his feet. The cat put a hand on Benjamin’s shoulder. “You are safe now, good sir. Please return home and have a good night.” As the mysterious cat turned to leave, Benjamin called out to him. “Wait! Brave sir, I must know your name. Who are you?” The cat stopped, and then turned partially before responding. “Who am I? I’m Sir Logan P. Shenanigans. Evil Pet Stalker.” Then, with a whip of his trench coat, he was gone. ##### About the Author Christopher Lee Cousino is the author of two novels, HOMELESS and ZOMBIE HERO: THE BEGINNING (PART ONE). He is also the author of many short stories. Visit his website where a short story is available every week for FREE! When he isn’t writing, Christopher is a Licensed Practical Nurse at a group home that services the mentally and physically handicapped population of the Grand Rapids, MI area. He has always loved to write and, with the help of BSIC Publishing, he has finally begun to focus on putting his many ideas and characters onto paper and making them available to the world. He is hard at work on many novels and stories, so stay tuned. Christopher lives in Hudsonville, MI with his beautiful wife and two wonderful children. www.christopherleecousino.com