Elise

Elise called the names of her friends, but they were nowhere to be heard. "Archie...Tito...Troutyface?"

Her words were carried away in the depths of the forest. She turned back, but much to her dismay, she didn't see the beach anymore.

Darkness had fallen around her, and even though it was the break for dawn, she couldn't see the sun anywhere in the grove of trees.

She stated to get very nervous when she heard rustling noises from deep in the thickets. This was not like the forest back home. Everywhere was so unkempt and full of tangled brambles.

As she walked onwards, she heard a giggle in the distance. It was a high pitched giggling that sounded like children. The giggling grew meaner and more jeering as she walked until she heard one of them speak. "Spotty…"

Elise's ears immediately perked up over that phrase...She had heard it before. Another child's voice cut in, equally cold. "Spotty four eyes…."

Elise immediately shuddered. The voices were so familiar. In fact, she heard them all seven years she was in school. They were insults given to her most distinctive features. "Spotty, freckled four eyes," the voices chanted, causing Elise's eyes and her lips to tremble

"Please stop!" She pleaded but the voices were unceasing. The pairs of eyes began to glare and break into a chant of "Weedy speckled four eyes…!"

At last, she heard Tito's cruel voice added, " Yeah...speckles."

Elise couldn't take anymore. "Daddy!" she cried and ran into the brushes. Much to her relief, she heard a kind voice..

"Come to me, Elise," said her father's voice, echoing from the darkened distance.

Elise's heart thundered as she sprinted through the thicket and brambles.

"Come to me, Elise," he said again, and she followed his voice.

"Daddy!"

He appeared before her. He was six foot five with a weathered face, bulging muscles and an anchor tattoo. She cried tears of joy and threw herself at him, but as she did, he faded away and she fell into the pricker bushes.

"Daddy?" she asked tenderly, but Sailor Sam's body was fading away.

There was a look of remorse on the fisherman's face. "I'm sorry, daughter, but you weren't able to save me in time."

Her father flickered from existence, and Elise, with scratches from the thorns, curled up and began to whimper.

Tito

Tito pushed through the branches and found himself standing on a rocky hill lined with tall grass. Stone heads, reminiscent of the ancient times of his people composed the larger rocks.

As a breeze blew westward, Tito turned his head and saw his village of cocohuts in the valley. "Oh crud," he exclaimed. "Somehow I'm back on my island. If my mom finds out, she'll have a cow."

A brown cow grazing on the grass, mooed abhorrently. "It's better than having yoooooou."

As the talking cow shuffled away, Tito stammered, "A talking cow?! What's going on here?"

He squinted as people in black staggered up the plains.

Tito soon realized they were in a procession, carrying a casket of palm wood up the hill.

Tito immediately recognized every islander in his tribe, including Javier and his own mother in a black shroud.

Once they reached him, they laid the casket at his feet. Javier began to talk. "We have gathered here today to honor a proud Kolama."

Astrid immediately dabbed at her eyes.

"He was," Javier started, "a caring father, a loving husband and beloved by all the people in his tribe."

Tito's heart nearly stopped. "No way," he said, "This funeral is for my father."

Javier paused for a second before continuing. "This Kolama failed to preserve his island. The Rite of Passage that continued for thousands of years ended with his lineage."

Tito loudly gulped. Suddenly, Javier's voice sounded so cold. "Now our island is dead."

The grass and cattle around Tito withered away. The every plant turned black and the animals shriveled up.

"He was our last hope," Javier howled, "And he failed us. The plague of Kolama will haunt us all!"

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Without warning, Javier shoved the casket open, revealing a dead body, laying still.

"No...no…" Tito gasped, turning pale.

He immediately realized it wasn't his father, but an older version of himself. Tito slumped to his knees. He didn't want to cry, but he still did.

Tony the Troutface

Poor Tony the Troutface was dropped in the dirt when his crew mates wandered off. He crawled off on his fins calling their names, but only when he leapt in a bush, did he get anywhere.

After prodding about, he found himself on the windmill-powered Central Commerce Island.

Even better, Tony found himself as a gangster again. He had a large mop of sun bleached blond hair on his head and a leather jacket. As he walked down the street, he flicked his finger at a passing chick. "Eyyy dollface!"

She was also clad in a red leather jacket and had a bushy head of short brown hair. She battered her eyelashes and said in an equally streetwise accented voice, "Hey Tony. How 'bout some pizza later?"

He winced and frowned at her.

"Without anchovies?" she added and Tony smiled.

"Perfecto!" he grinned. "You know I don't eat dat fishy stuff!"

"See you at five, cutie," she winked at him.

He flicked his fingers are her again and nearly knocked her off her feet.

Tony continued to strut down the road. He was feeling like a million, but he was even happier when he reached a gang of men in black tank tops and matching shark-fin pompadours.

Rather than attack him, the men all broke into sharp grins and flicked their fingers at him.

"Yo Tony," one of them said. "What's in da itinerary?"

Tony reached into his jacket and produced a piece of parchment. He was the only one of his gang who could read.

"Awight," he said with a confident smirk. "At 11 o' clock, it's finger snapping practice. We gotta get em all at the same time. At 12, we work on our pirouettes. There is nothing more manly than doing a twirl when walking down the street. 1 o' clock is lunch when we eat our fruit cups and liccan salad. Gotta be fit for those twirls….but right now...it's…"

A deep gutteral voice said, "Butt whoopin' time."

A large hand gripped the paper and crumpled it up.

"Hey now," Tony said, his eyes slightly watering. "Dats not nice. Who'd do something like that?"

Tony looked up. It was Whyte, his hulking lieutenant with a sinister shark grin plastered across his face. "Me...da great Whyte."

Without warning, Tony was knuckle punched and knocked on the ground. He fumbled for his shark knife, but he dropped it and Whyte stepped on it.

"It's time a real man took over," Whyte snickered. "We've been land minnows for so long. We will now live up to our name and instill fear and terror into all people on Central Commerce Island. Like a true gang...who's wit me?"

All the Land Sharks gazed at their leader who had fallen on the ground. Tony was trying so hard to hold back tears, but they seeped out anyway. Whyte grimaced and slammed his hands together. They were more befitting of a gorilla than a shark.

All the Land Sharks immediately raised their hands. "Aye sir," they said.

Whyte cocked an eyebrow and looked at Tony, lying on the ground. "Let's leave this fishy to his fate."

Tony heard cackling. He turned around and saw a shapely figure with a pointed hat. "Sincirce," he gasped. She twirled a magic wand. "Swishy swishy swish, turn this liar into a fish!"

Tony was blasted and everything went white.

Archibell

Not only was Archibell completely lost, but even more baffling. He found himself naked again. He ran through the woods of Reminiscimemory. "Not again!" Archibell squawked and started swatting at insects.

The only thing that stopped him was a high, but loud cry of, "Buttocks ahoy! Captain...why are you naked?"

"Squadily Squids!" the captain cried. "Is that you, Swabson?!"

"Hey!" the voice cried and Archibell looked below him.

At five feet tall, a man at his waist. He had messy blond hair, a red bandana and a white and red striped shirt with blue slacks.

"How many times do I have to tell you, cap'n" the short man cried. "It's Swanson...not Swabson."

"Well...your name is Swanson and you're a swabbie," the captain said casually. "Consider it, short hand."

Swanson's eyes bulged and his face turned bright red. "Are you calling me a short hand?!"

Archibell gasped but chuckled. "That was a slip of the tongue ...What brings you to this spooky island? I thought you were…."

Swanson smiled. "We we're looking for you, cap'n. Lyra and I were looking everywhere….Aye.. Lyra…!"

The captain's mouth nearly dropped in amazement over who came running up. It was a dark bobbed woman in a light green dress, running barefoot through the thicket.

Though she had spent countless days on the Lyre with Archibell, not a hair fell out of place for Lyra.

"Hubba hubba!" the captain said, immediately smitten with his long lost love.

Lyra giggled and pointed at Archiebell's body. "I should be saying that about you," she said, shading pink.

The captain immediately turned bright red and shielded himself.

"Err...swabbie...un Swanson. Uh Swabson!" the captain said. "I order you to find my captain's clothes."

"Aye aye...boss," he said with a salute. "Or should I say, ew ew."

As Swanson ran off, he left Lyra and the captain together alone.

"I must say," the captain began. "Even after all this time, the colorful coral on the bottom of the sea can't compete with your beautiful hues."

Lyra giggled and rolled her eyes. "And you were always gooier than salt water taffy. "

"Of course!" the captain said theatrically. "And like that taffy, I melt at the sight of you."

Lyra laughed again, but the two lovebirds fell into silence as they walked along the forest.

"I must admit," the captain said at last. "I've been a bit unfaithful since we parted. But every sea beauty lacks that completely curvaceous...hairdo of yours."

Lyra looked away in sadness. "It's ok…" she said with a melancholic look. "I am dead after all."

Lyra turned her head back, revealing half her face as an empty skull. "I still love you...and I always will...but I'm no longer part of this world"

Archibell watched helplessly as the love of his life disintegrated before his eyes. Her body became rose petals and fluttered on the wind. The captain cried and reached for them, but they slipped through his fingers. He dropped to his knees and slammed his fists on the ground sobbing.

All four members of the Lyre's crew cried to themselves in their darkest moment. They all prayed for the torment to end, but there was no end in sight.