Contact Info / Websites

Entry #3

An Epic Battle of Cataclysmic Proportions

2008-08-27 23:45:32 by Shuko

This is a tale about a beast. This beast is known to most as "Banzai," a cruelly ironic name first coined to describe the beast's popcorn-like methods of leaping up out of hidden places and striking with relish. If only we had known then what a terror this little foundling would become, we might not have given it such an affectionate moniker.

The beast himself is quite disarming at first glance. He has every appearance of a petite, marbled brown tabby kitten, and his bright greenish-blue eyes shine at you so innocently at first. However, the moment you lower your guard, he is upon you, and no force of this earth can save you from the maiming that awaits your unfortunate person.

My tale unfolded just this evening. Banzai found me watching Mythbusters - an activity that always leaves me carefree and full of nerdish euphoria, making me a prime target for his "play." He stalked me silently from behind a stray bit of newspaper that had fallen diagonally across the back of the couch and the cushion next to me. When I scratched a stray itch on my thigh, it aroused his carnal instincts and he made his move. Letting out a squeaky mewl of ferociousness, he came boiling out from under the newspaper and attached himself to my bare arm, ripping and tearing away at my naked flesh with snarling growls and kitteny mewls of delight.

Crying aloud in dismay and terror, I immediately reacted in the only way I knew I had a chance of defeating the evil creature. I drove my so-far undamaged hand into his soft underbelly and delivered a fierce noogie to this little-known vulnerable place. Alas, the effects of his hypnosis were already upon me, and I did not use sufficient force to drive the fell beast away. Instead, my actions caused him to fly into a kitteny rage, his entire body now a flurry of claws, teeth, and deceptively soft fur. The situation looked bleak, but I was not defeated yet. I would fight until the bitter end, and this beast would not find his victory so sweet if I were to fail!

The battle raged on for days (or perhaps it was only minutes... it's hard to say, really. Time is irrelevant in epic battles, as any experienced warrior can tell you), but at long last, I emerged the victor. I owe my victory partly to luck and perserverance, but mostly to the secret anti-Banzai technique developed by my late grandfather (God rest his soul) who lost his very life perfecting it so that it may save lives. When my chance finally came, I used one of my newly-punctured hands to seize the foul creature by the scruff of his neck and lift him away from my injured person. At last safe from his deadly weapons, I laughed, taunting him openly by dangling my mangled fingers just out of reach of his outstretched limbs. He made a strange half-mew half-snort, and I knew that I had broken his spirit at last.

However, this beast is truly cunning. At the very moment I would have delivered the death blow (another move designed by my late grandfather; it involves scratching the beast below its chin until a strange purring noise signals its last gasps of evil breath), I found myself again entranced by his mystical defensive charms, and it was all I could do to fling him onto the couch and flee for my life. I sought refuge in the bathroom, but I had survived. The battle was over, but my enemy remained.

I may have to do battle with him again someday. But for the sake of my grandfather, and the honor of my family, I will be ready. -_- I will defeat the beast known as Banzai the Kitten, and they will sing praises of me in the town square for a fortnight at the least.


You must be logged in to comment on this post.


2008-08-28 01:31:58

Zucchini sucks.


2008-08-29 16:13:53

The moon lit up the night sky, shining brightly despite being enveloped by dark, miserable clouds.

The curfew in our small town took effect at sunset. I knew that if I was caught wandering the streets at this time, I would spend the rest of that night in the local jail. It is a horrible place: they take your personal belongings and anything of value, they give you no food or water, and the jailer would jab you sharply with the end of his broom when you fell asleep. He was a cruel man. I can remember his smug grin staring down at me when I last woke up in his jail. My father would pay the bail for my release, but his shop was raided by thieves a few days ago. He lost a lot of stock, and they made good their escape with all the money in my father's purse. I fear that if I am caught, then he won't be able to pay for my release.

With this in mind, I broke into a run along the last few hundred feet to the arts and crafts store where my father worked and lived his life. My father was a kind man, but very strict. I'd help him during the morning, and then go and visit my friends in the town square. He always wanted me back one hour before sunset, and I would usually be back before then, but today was different. She was in our town again.

When I first met her, I was amazed at how much we had in common. She was beautiful, with dark brown hair and glowing hazel eyes. Everytime she came to our town to see her relatives, I'd think of nothing but her for days, going on weeks. Those thoughts and feelings would then drift to the back of my mind, and I would tell myself that she isn't coming back.

I always feel this excitement and energy whenever I hear that she is coming to town, and I was overcome with joy when I heard she'd be staying with her relatives for a few days. My friends and I were racing each other through the crowded streets in the town centre today, when I saw those eyes. I was in a daze, as she gave me that warm smile and walked over to me, carrying her book. She was shy, and mostly spends her time in quiet spots to relax. She loved getting away from the city and the cacaphony that surrounds it. I could have raced anytime; the chance to spend time with just was a very rare opportunity. My friends would be left in a frustrated and confused state as they determined my absence.

I whiled the afternoon away at her relatives' luxurious house, sitting with her on the balcony. As we watched the sunset, a wicked idea had came across her mind. She took me by the hand, and we tiptoed past her sleeping relatives, through the darkening streets, up to her retreat overlooking the town. You could oversee the sunbaked streets, and the muscular men who enforced the curfew looked like insects scurrying through cracks in the pavement. We lay on the hillside, and gazed up at the moon, shining brightly, obscured by nothing. She told me that she would think of me for days, going on weeks when she left here. She told me that she always highly anticipated returning here, so we could meet again. I told her how disheartened I'd be when she left, and how beautiful she was, the moon light bouncing back off those radiant hazel eyes. She slowly leant over and kissed me. She told me she might be in love. I was surprised she was so open with me tonight, as we usually talk only about little things, and our words are kept light hearted. She undone her summer dress, and the light from the pool shimmered across her silky smooth skin as she kissed me again. She told me that this was the first time she had been with a man, and urged me to be gentle with her. I could not speak, only nod my head nervously as she took my hand and placed it gently but firmly on her right breast. This was my first time also; I had never received any attention like this from any of the girls who stayed around the town square, or who came into my father's store and laughed at my poor handiwork. I told myself to relax, as I stroked her thigh and grinned at her. She gave me a naughty wink, and we spent that evening together in tranquility.

I woke up an hour later, to find her head laying peacefully on my chest. The clouds began to conceal the moon as the rain started to fall upon the hillside. I woke her up gently and said that we should return to our homes. My father would be sleeping at this time, allowing me to sneak in hopefully undetected. I knew he would remember my absence during sunset the next morning, and would make me work for no pay for the rest of the week as punishment. I was aware of this, but I felt I'd never have this opportunity again. She hid her book underneath a bush, and we walked hurriedly down the cobbled stones, hand-in-hand. Fortunately, all the adults were at the weekly town meeting, discussing the recent outbreak of robberies from shops and townspeople. Her house wasn't far from the hillside, and I was able to take her there through the streets and shortcuts without incident. We shared a passionate kiss, and she said how she would love to meet again tomorrow. I was in enough trouble as it was, but I found myself nodding nervously again despite my concerns of the curfew and my father. She gave out a giggle, and waved goodbye as she shut the door quietly, as to not wake anyone.

My father's shop was at the opposite end of town, about a mile away from her house. There was a high risk of being caught, but I knew the streets well. I strafed along street corners, leapt over walls, and creeped under windows through the town square. As I glanced at the jail, I could see that jailer in the window, asleep on his chair, broom in hand. I detested that place, and was determined never to go back there. I took off my shoes and ran barefoot across the pavement, my footsteps almost inaudible to the guards.


2008-08-29 16:14:16

Suddenly, I saw a flash of light in one of the windows. The front door flew open, slamming against the outside of the house. I cringed and dipped into the shadows of the nearest alley. I could hear struggling until something darted out of the house. A young woman emerged, her eyes weary from exhaustion attempted to pinpoint the being that attacked her. She took off her spectacles, cleaned them with her loose garments, and went back inside, angry. As the door closed, I looked at the front of the house. I could make out a smashed plant pot - it looked like my handiwork - along with some red flowers previously contained within the pot, and what looked like drops of red paint. I went on my knees and dipped my finger in the substance. It was warm. Blood. I looked into the crevice opposite, and found myself staring into the eyes of a small, cat like creature. I was completely oblivious to the fact that this was the young woman's attacker, until it leapt for me. It's claws dug deep into my skin like the fangs of a venomous snake as I tried in vain to release my arm from the beast's vicious hold. I carried the creature down endless roads, searching for anything I could use to escape from it's grip. It's eyes were aligned with mine, and I felt my consciousness slip away as it continued to make eye contact. My body was going numb, I felt my willpower vanishing fast, and I knew that this monster wasn't going to let go, and it would hold 'til my last breath. My last memory was falling backwards through a window, my eyes could only just distinguish a tray of bread upon a table, until all went black.

I felt a short jab in my stomach, and immediately knew what had happened. I woke up, looking up to the definitive face of the jailer, sneering down at me. He paid no attention to my wounds as he jabbed me in the arm. I cried out in pain, as he grunted in amusement. After what seemed like hours of torture, he had grown bored and returned to his office. My situation was hopeless. My father would be unable to pay for bail. I would be stuck here for weeks, perhaps months until the town's elder authorised my release. I would not see her again for months until she next returned to the town. And I was living in a cell with this demon of a man gloating at my misfortune. I began to weep, wishing to be anywhere, absolutely anywhere but here.

The young woman arrived at the jail at sunrise, with a small bag of coins. She gave them to the jailer, and pointed towards me. I was not woken up that morning by the jailer's broom, but to my amazement, the soft voice of the young woman. She said she was watching me last night, in the encounter with the creature she called Banzai. I had apparently put up quite a fight, despite my feelings of helplessness that night. She wanted to tell me more, and with that she offered her hand to me, and helped me up on my feet.


2008-09-07 23:14:50

"I've never done it.

I have enough problems with indifference and lack of motivation in my life. Plus I'm on anti-depression medication to curb my mood swings and keep me from killing myself." - You

That made me feel really sad for you


2008-09-12 19:23:08



2008-10-17 17:32:35

only true warriors know how you feel in your story and i myself am a true warrior.


2008-11-04 23:28:13

make more ninja mario


2011-05-08 16:51:20