The creature’s hiss became a broken, rattling thing, and I realized it was laughing.

“The lady said it was a fluke, this little human couldn’t have kiilllled…” it moved in between the shadows as it headed toward Mogwai.

{LEVEL THREE PSIONIC ATTACK }

A voice, no, a knowledge rolled over me. I knew what this black skinned creature was going to do. But as I looked into the depths of its dark cowl a creeping despair stopped me in my tracks.

“The lady didn’t know.”

“The lady will be amused.”

The lady will be furious!”

Shaking my head I tried to clear the voices clung to me. I was both numb and yet ready to bolt. Fight or flight response was in full swing, and I was clearly the rabbit in this scenario.

That’s when Mogwai moved.

It was subtle at first. I figured it was a trick of my imagination then it happened again and I was sure. Her hand, milky with fine dust raised just a bit. Then shuffled through the dirt, pawing around like she was reaching for something, life maybe, but something.

“Mog is alive.” I heard myself say, but the waves of pressure from the creature was still pounding at the damn of my will.

{LEVEL FOUR PSIONIC ATTACK}

“You haven’t the strength.”

“You’re will power isn’t enough.”

“Your mind will snap like old bones.”

“You’re a girl playing at being a real woman.”

Those last words sunk in more than any other. The creature saw through to my pains, insecurity, and loneliness. It KNEW my every sorrow and heartache. I was like a bug pinned to a cork board. I was exposed.

“It’s right, I’ve never done anything worthwhile. I’m just trying to get through the day,” I thought, but my eyes stayed fixed on Mogwai.

Mogwai, slowly rolled over. The little thing was struggling to get up! She’d just been fully slammed into the ground, but she was pulling herself to her knees.

{PSIONIC ATTACK LEVEL 4}

Another wave of despair crashed into me, and with it I felt my knees buckle and spine slacken. This creature, whatever it was, was stealing my strength, eating my sense of self.

I was lonelily old lady suddenly, with too many cats, or I was calling myself a plant mom, or something. I’d make the world think I had it going on. But day by day I would just become more isolated and more defeated. None of it would matter.

I wouldn’t matter. Had I ever mattered? My past was dust, my future ashes.

My heart left laden and crushed, but then there was Mog. Mog was literally crawling out of her own grave, unbent, undefeated. She was strong despite her injuries.

I remembered her standing in front of the mirror. The little girl with an infectious grin and plan who was just out of her teens.

“What, do you just go it alone Mogwai? You just run your life off will power and defiance?” I’d laughed at the time but watching her I could see it was true.

“What is will power? It’s a stupid concept. People think there is some magical pool of will power, like a bucket that has limits to what it can hold, but it’s just making a choice. I made the choice to do this thing, so I am doing it. I will do it. That’s will power.”

Something inside me cried. She had been nothing but a friend to me, and for the most part all I had done was mock her. Why did I do that? Why had I kept pushing her away? Even than I never called her a friend, just someone who was tormenting her clients.

Here was this strong, loyal friend, and there I was a piece of trash who drown myself in wine and shallow victories. Why was I like this? Why couldn’t I just stand up and take control of my life?

“I made the choice to this thing, so I’m doing it,” Mog’s voice reverberated in my spirit, she made the choice. She Made The Choice.

“You’ll never---”

My mind was made up. My back stiffened and I raised my H&K and fired point blank into that creature’s sightless face.

With each brass casing that pinged off the rocks around me, another flash of light obliterated the darkness, and the creature let out a pained shriek.

The gun clicked the magazine spent, and I tossed it aside, but my magazine of anger wasn’t empty, and I was far from done.

With a twist I threw an elbow into that monster’s face and based on the shock that went through my bones I knew I’d done some damage. This thing might have been shadows and grief in my head, but here in the physical realm it had substance and if had substance I could hurt it!

A slight laugh escaped me, manic and wild. I’d punched the horror! “Let’s see how you handle a kick!” I screamed as I whipped around slamming my right leg into its side in a powerful strike.

The creature groaned, and for a second, I thought it was hurt, but then the Icey fingers wrapped around my calf, and I knew I’d messed up.

“You dare?” it chuckled. Not laughed or cackled, it chuckled like I was a toddler trying to beat up a professional fighter. Amused and condescending.

“Oh shit,” I said just as it swung me, pulling me of my remaining foot, then smashed me into the ground beside Mog.

“You tried to fist fight a Night Gaunt?” Mog said, and as I opened my eyes, I could see her looking down at me with a brow raised.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I groaned, and realized I wasn’t that badly hurt.

“Well, that was stupid,” she said and turned, pointing the laser pointer right at the Night Gaunt.

Screaming the shadowy mass flashed away, and once again Mog was at my side, sweeping dust from my face. “They call it moon dust. When it gets turned enough it’s like baby powder.” Mog informed me and I finally understood why she wasn’t dead.

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“Is it coming back?” I coughed, and a plume of dust rose from my breath.

“Yes,” Mog said and pulled me to a sitting position.

“What do we do?” I asked, but again my nose and mouth were full of dirt, and my eyes couldn’t make tears fast enough to clear my vision.

“Come with me, my place is safe,” a new voice cut in, and Mog turned around in a flash, brandishing her claws like a real honey badger.

“Who is it Mog? I asked trying to wipe the dirt from my eyes, but for a long moment Mog was silent.

“Mog? What’s going on?” I asked feeling for The Judge and finding it securely at my side.

“I think it’s an Ewok?” Mogwai said the tone at her last word crawling up just enough to make it sound like a question.

"Actually, I'm and engineer," the low voice said distractedly.

The shrieking came again, that torrent of voices evolving from the waves on the shore of my resolve, to a storm brewing that would destroy a city’s worth of constitution. Hearing it I had no doubt that the nightmares of old soldiers would wreck their hearts tonight, and heartbroken souls would weep the most bitter tears.

Like hearing my thoughts, the curtains of rain started to fall and in seconds I was drenched, but the dust was washed away from my eyes.

A black silhouette crossed the grey clouds, I was pretty damn sure its screech would echo in my nightmares for decades later. Opening its wings full, the creature paused in in mid fight, then turned and dove back down toward us, claws extended, hungry for our soft flesh.

Suddenly a nerve shattering hiss split the night, and with a WOOF, a lance of white-hot fire reached up into the night. The Night Gaunt screamed, but its motion was too fast and the lance flashed through its wing, sending the beast into a spiral that slammed it helplessly into the ground.

“We need to get inside. The Night Gaunt can’t affect us inside. I’ve got the place warded against Night terrors and spirits,” the newcomer said and turning I spotted him, and was totally at a loss.

Mogwai was right, it was an Ewok, and he was holding what appeared to be a light saber.

**

“I can’t believe you survived a Night Gaunt’s Level Four Psionic attack,” the smallish fur-ball said as he led us down the path. He moved hurriedly, but with the ease of a mountain goat over the rocks, and I followed the Ewok’s lead the best I could.

It looked more like a short human, with more hair and muscles then any man should possess. He reminded me almost immediately of Michael J Fox in Teen Wolf. You know before he went totally wolfed out? Anyway, I’m getting off the point.

“Excuse me, but did we just get saved by the Ewok with a light saber?” I asked feeling foolish, and totally out of my depth. You know, like normal.

Trailing slightly behind the creature Mogwai as measuring him with a stare, “I think it’s a plasma torch, and you’re actually bigger than an Ewok.”

“I saw some guy on TikTok build a replica of a Covent energy sword from Halo. It looked pretty bad ass,” he shrugged and kept walking. His voice was deeper than I expected, but without timbre.

Mogwai, looked fascinated as the boy/creature continued, “It was really just a couple of plasma torches with a bunch of mock up crap on it. I just did the same thing but used an alchemical methane compound as the base gas. It’s still not an energy sword, but when I saw you were fighting a Night Gaunt, a light weapon just made sense.”

“Great, I got saved by an Ewok with a Plasma Sword,” I groused and Mogwai shot me a look. I guess I should have been a little more grateful, but I felt foolish.

“It’s still pretty limited. I wouldn’t want to try to fire it up again in an emergency without checking the hoses. By the way, my name is Camden, or Cam for short,” he said as he navigated the darkness in a rush.

Camden was covered head to two in dark brown hair but he had a nose like a human rather than a dog or bear. The most striking thing about him was how thick his body was. His arms, legs chest, the guy was what we call a fireplug, but without the obvious muscle tone.

“I don't mind the comparison with StarWars characters. If you really want to make direct Star Wars comparisons, at my age, we are closer to the Lasat. I’m about five foot four,” he said casually but kept up the pace while monitoring the sky.

“What does Vampires have to do with this?” I asked confused, and for a moment they both stopped and stared at me like I was a total fool.

“What?” I put my hands up in surrender, “I’m just saying if you are talking Star Wars, wouldn’t a Wookie be a closer comparison than an overly dramatic French vampire?”

Camden groaned and picked back up his pace, but Mog was giving me a disappointed look. “Lasat, not Lestat. Stop embarrassing me, you’re mixing genres like a total noob.”

The creature disappeared behind a rock, but his voice drifted back. “We use those as pet names for our youth. Ewoks, Lasat, Wookie, even Gioran. We like it better than the other designation, but those are internal monikers.”

“Why are we talking about this?” I asked glancing behind myself nervously. I mean at any moment we could be rushed by the shadow of Lucifer’s Ex-wife, and they were yammering on about Star Wars.

"You don't like being called a bigfoot?" Mogwai raced around the corner, forcing me to speed up as well. Nimble like little mountain goats, their paces was starting to take its toll on me, more so consider the beating I’d taken.

“Your people are big Star Wars fans?” Mog asked insistently.

“I am, but generally no,” It responded, then looked once more to the skies. “Maybe now isn’t really the time for this?”

Flinching for a moment I froze and looked up as well. That thing was still in my head, still making my skin crawl, and yet for some reason I couldn’t stop blabbering like a child.

“I don’t understand,” I cut in, “Why would people who aren’t fans of the movie name themselves after characters from those movies?”

At least this time they didn’t shoot me a glare, so I figured it must have been a decent question.

“Who said we named ourselves after them?” he asked with a scoffing shake of his head.

“Well, you said Ewok was a pet name,” Mogwai countered as skid to a halt In front of a sheer rock face.

Reaching up he worked his hands around the wall, seemingly looking for something before saying, “Yeah, where did you think the name Ewok came from?”

“George Lucas!” I sputtered, feeling happy to know something, but then found both looking at me like I was a goat following cows to the herd. Out of place and ignorant as hell.

“And where did you think George Lucas came from?” he shot back.

For a moment the image of the man flashed in my head, his scruffy white beard, his thick white hair, and those beady little eyes.

“Ooohhhh,” Mogwai and I said at the same time.

Something clicked behind the rock and with a cloud of dust the whole rock face jutted out and swung to the side.

Just as the dust settled a familiar screech sounded, and above us something swooped passed in a flash of leather and sulfuric musk.

“Quickly, get in!”

Mogwai wasted no time pulling me behind the rock face, and the Jr. Bigfoot stepped in behind me and pull the door shut, enveloping us all in complete darkness.

Panic swelled in my breast immediately, as did the sense of impending doom. I was trapped underground, in total darkness. I was being hunted by a demon, and Lestat the fuzzy butt was probably just waiting to skin us alive and suck the still warm marrow from our bones.

A voice broke the silence and I nearly pissed myself as it said, “Hey, Alfred?”

A single bell chimed, then a voice, cold and metallic responded, “Yes, Camden?”

“Alfred, please turn on the lights,” the Squatch known as Camden responded, and with it the lights flickered and came to life.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t want the Night Gaunt to pinpoint us by turning on the lights,” Camden said awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head.

We were in a small ten foot by twenty-foot room, a bunker I realized. Along one wall blankets and water were stacked up on a few pallets, while on the back wall additional pallets were stacked and formed into chairs, a worktable and couch.

“What is this place?” I asked in awe, my sense of reality already overwhelmed.

“It’s a bunker,” Mog said helpfully.

Camden nodded, like Mogwai was clearly on track, and I’d lost the trail. “It’s in our nature. We, the old people, know what is coming. We know how to prepare. Here in my lab I can develop and make myself ready for the end of days.”

“Un-naturalworld.com says your people are an elusive bunch. Masters of camouflage and remaining hidden,” Mog added, but I was growing tired and slumped down on a pallet chair.

“Wait, Skunk Apes are Preppers?” I asked and looked around again.

It kind of made sense. I mean they were a creature of myths and legend that have been talked about since the olden days. If all these years they had been hiding in underground bunkers and doing their best to stay hidden, it would make sense.

“Skunk apes? Gee that’s not offensive at all,” he said as he walked behind a set of pallets, and his voice trailed off.

“What’s he doing?” I asked Mog in a whisper.

Mog looked at me like I was daft, then whispered back, “Ranting, like an 18-year-old man baby?”

Shaking my head, I pointed down the way he went, “No, where is he going? Is he running away?”

“I don’t know. Do you think he’s, our bounty?” Mog asked looking just as confused as I felt.

A lump grew in my throat as I saw him walked toward me with a large pistol shaped object, "Hey, the skunk ape thing... I didn't mean it," I said and raised my hands.