As I get older, I find myself looking back on my life and how I got here. I suppose that most Goblins my age do the same thing. Then again, most Goblins don’t make it to my age. It is a hard life, growing up Goblin in a human dominated world. They hate us because we’re different. I mean, so what if we like to eat the young of other species? A baby human tastes pretty good with the right spices. If you have never had an elf child, well, then you don’t know what you’re missing. And it’s not like humans don’t eat other species as well. They eat cow, and lamb, and grubs. Well, I understand that not a lot of them eat grubs, but they should. They are delicious. Nice and juicy, and have a nice bitter taste. And don’t even get me started on those high-hifalutin-better-than-everyone-else Elves. I hate those pricks. 

Anyway, I digress. These days, as I approach my time of dying, I want to figure out how I got here so that I can pass on some life lessons to my grandchildren. Those little bastards are going to need it. They sure as hell won’t get it from their worthless parents. I guess that’s the way with goblins; good parenting skips a generation. I know my parents were as worthless as my kids are. I’m surprised they didn’t eat their young. 

I suppose I should start at the beginning. My name is Giovanni Googioli. I am the grandson of Genevieve Googioli, better known to the family as Grama Googi. I spent most of my young life at Grama Googi’s place. She made the best chocolate, worm, and raisin cookies you have ever tasted. She was also very warm and caring. Whenever one of her “little ones” got a scrape, or a cut, or hurt feelings. She was always there with a cookie and a shoulder to cry on. The clan loved and respected her very much. Whenever she went for a walk through town, other goblins would bow to her as she passed. Some would even come up to her, kneel, and kiss her hand. “Bless you Mama G.G.” they would say, or “Thank you Mama G.G. you saved my life.” Some would give her gifts. It might be an envelope, a box, or a basket of goods. As a kid, I never thought anything of it. I figured that everyone that met her loved her. 

She even had some human friends that would come and visit. She never let us talk to them and they never stayed very long. I didn’t mind, those folks were scary. There were always at least five of them. Sometimes more, never less. Most of them were very large, strong looking humans. They wore different types of armor. There was always one that wore robes and carried some sort of stick, or pole, or something along those lines. Whenever these friends of hers came by, she would shoo all the little ones out of the house. 

“Get outside and play,” Should would say in here pretend angry voice. I never once saw her actually angry when I was a kid. Well, not until that one time, but we will get to that later. “You little scamps have been inside too long. Whoever stays outside till my guests leave will get a delightful surprise.” Grama Googi’s surprises were always worth waiting for, so we stayed outside. 

That’s the way my early life went. I spent my time playing with my cousins and listening to Grama Googi tell stories of when she was a little girl. At any given time there would be ten to twenty little ones running round her house and yard. Laughing, playing, fighting, begging for her attention. And she always seemed to have time for each one of us. One of our favorite things was when she would send us out to get ingredients for her. We knew something good was coming. When she did this, she was getting ready to cook up a patch of pies, cakes, or cookies. Sometimes all three. She would send us to get grubs, or beetles, or worms. There was always a contest for who could bring her the most of whatever she needed that day. Those were wonderful, carefree days. I miss them. 

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

As we got older, nearing our rebellious teenage years, we would spend less time at Grama Googi’s. We began to develop interests that Grama Googi’s place couldn’t offer. Like, the opposite sex, or the same sex, or joining a raiding party. I was a bit different though. I stayed around. I couldn’t see myself with a partner, and I sure as hell wasn’t going on any raiding parties. So I hung around and helped wrangle up the little ones. I cleaned the house and helped with the cooking. 

One day when I was about fourteen, a group of goblins I didn’t recognize came for a visit. There were four of them. Two were very large and muscular goblins. They wore armor that seemed to be a patchwork of different sets. Each had a sword and several knives on their belts. They gave me the creeps. I had never seen Grama Gooli have these types of visitors that weren’t human. Of the two others, one was well dressed and cleaner than most goblins. He was obviously the leader. The other one was a fat, grubby goblin who looked like he had recently been in a fight. His left eye was swollen shut, and his lip was bleeding. He looked terrified. 

Grama Googli ushered them in and told me to get the kids outside. I did as I was told and got the kids out. “If you stay out till I tell you to come back in, you will get a reward.” I said, trying to sound as cheerful as Gama Googli did. I went out with the kids to keep an eye on them when a goblin woman came running up to the house. I stepped in front of her before she could barge into the house. 

“Where are they?” She screamed, tears running down her face. I remember thinking, She is really ugly when she cries. “I need to see Mama G.G.” She sounded panicked. 

“Where are who?” I asked.

“Let me in. I have to see Mama G.G. before it’s too late.”

“Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help?” I tried again to sound cool and calm like Grama Googli would. It didn’t work, she just got more excited. 

“They have my husband!” She yelled and tried to push past me. “LET ME IN!!!” 

I gave in and let her inside. She ran into the room, but there was no one there. She turned to me and gave me a pleading look.

“Where are they?” The desperation in her voice was palpable. It stung my heart. I had to help her. 

“They must be in the back room.” Ah, the back room. It was the only place in the entire house that was off limits. Grama Googli explicitly told us that we were never allowed in that room. She always kept it locked. I admit it. I tried the knob once. The other kids dared me to do it. I was never so nervous or scared in my life. In the back of my mind, I prayed that it would be locked. I didn’t want to get caught and disappoint Grama Googli. For the second time in my life, I tried the knob. It turned. 

The woman pushed past me into the room. I don’t know why I followed, but I did. That was the worst and best decision I ever made.