"Help!" Private screamed. Shock supressed his body so much-he could barely stand. The car came to a screeching stop. The headlights flickered off, and the side door began opening. As the penguin began getting out, Private began recognizing him more and more. "Oh my gosh!" Private gasped.
Skipper laid firm. Ramona circled in closer and closer. His eyes followed her to the best of their ablitities. "Sorry, must have dropped my ax. Better get it out." Ramona teased, and grasped the weapon with both flippers. She wedged it in even tighter, inflicting pain, which caused him to wince even more.
Skipper felt the ax penetrate between his lower ribs. Then, with all her strength-she yanked the ax! "Oh, I've got something!" She cheered, and pulled even harder. There was a sickening CRACK sound, and Skipper already knew she had split one of his ribbones. When the ax was hostily ripped out, a sucking sound-the sound of it coming out of his flesh- followed.
She got to his level. "Why are you doing this?!" Skipper gasped. She grinned and sneered. "I just want to watch you writhe in pain." With one fin she-almost jocosely- felt around his wound. He flinched at each touch. She stopped and stared at his freshly oozing lesion. Out of all the expressions Skipper had seen that were Ramona's, he had never seen her stare at him this way.
Not a second later, she dove in closer. Her sharp beak tore out some of his bloody meat. He screamed. "You cannibal!"
"I always thought you were yummy!" She toyed on, and contuined gnawing viciously. She lifted her head, and wiped the smeared blood off the side of it.
"Stop." Skipper begged. "J-just kill me."
Uncle Nigel stepped out of the car. "Private?! What's wrong?!"
"Why? How are you here?!"
"Skipper just called me. Oh dear, you're covered in blood!" It was true Private was sodden from head-to-toe. "That doesn't matter now! Skipper's in trouble! I have a plan, just trust me!" Private said stepping into the car. Nigel did the same.
Blood flowed off of Skipper's forehead, and into his eyes. The bloody ax laid next to him. He slowly reached for it.
He was almost there. He strugged to bring his body closer. Ramona immediately noticed, and grasped his flipper. Skipper kicked and fidgetted, trying to break free. She raised it above her head. "Good night, Skipper!" She snarled.
Just then, lights flashed from behind her. She looked back. Skipper coughed. She grinned back at him. In a flash, a car was on top of Skipper, and Ramona was sent flying. Her body smacked the ground. She moaned. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she lied motionless.
The car doors flung open. Private rushed out, and his uncle followed. "Skipper?!" Private cried, as he searched below the car. "Private, thank you." Skipper said feebly. "Skipper?" Private called.
"I'm here." Skipper said. Private finally found him, and scooted closer next him. "I'm all right,"
Private touched Skipper's warm feathers. "You saved my life." Private whispered fighting his tears. "You did, too." Skipper smiled.
Not long after that, Nigel and Private assisted Skipper to get up. He limped on into the car, supported by their shoulders. "Private, hand me the first-aid kit." Nigel said.
Nigel stitched Skipper's belly where the ax cut. "It's not too deep, Skipper. After these stitches and time for your rib to heal you'll be fine." Nigel smiled. Private hugged Skipper's neck. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Private cried. "You too, Young Private." Skipper winked.
Private didn't answer. "Private?" Skipper asked. Private was frozen his eyes were incredibly wide. "Private, what is it, lad?!" Nigel question. Private screamed. Skipper looked forward, and grew almost as frightened as Private.
Ramona was waddling toward them. By her side was Timothy with the bloody knife. Nigel turned around, and saw them. "Get in!" Skipper cried. Nigel slammed the back seat door, and dashed for the passenger's door.
He was an inch away Ramona's ax gashed the back of his neck. The force threw his bloody, lifeless face to the glass. "Uncle Nigel!" Private screeched, and dove forward. Skipper's flipper held him back. A hammer broke through the back seat window. Glass shattered, as Skipper threw hinself between the two front seats and in front of the wheel. "Buckle-up, Private!" Skipper demanded.
Stomping on the gas and turning the keys, Skipper took off. Private put his flippers around his head, and began crying hestarically. "It's going to be okay! I promise! But how the fish did they survive?!" Skipper swore.
"They're ghosts, Skippah! We're going to die!" Private cried. Skipper steered them through the trees in a weaving motion. There was an eerie silence. The only sound was the car and Private's weeping. "I'm going to get you out of here." Skipper promised.
Out of nowhere a body came crashing through the window. The tampered corpse laided in Private's lap. It was Kowalski's! Private cried. Skipper swurved, and lost control of the wheel. The car automatically haulted.
"Snapper!" Skipper cussed, and beat the wheel. The car was out of gas! "Come on! We're going on foot!" Skipper called to Private. His soldier was motionless. His eyes were pryed open, and just as still. "Private! Don't do this to me! You just need to keep your head! You can't do this now! They're coming!" Skipper yelled.
"No, you can't take me out there! You can't!" Private whined.
"You either go or die in here!" Skipper argued. "I'll carry you, if I have to! Please!"
"Go without me!"
"Never! I'd never leave you!" Skipper's eyes began to run. Private stood up and hugged Skipper. That drove Skipper to the edge. Not literally, but that would happen soon enough.
"This is where we wrecked isn't it?" Private asked. Skipper nodded. Suddenly the car began shaking. Something was liftng the left side of the car. It could have only been Timothy. Ramona peaked into Skipper's window. She cackled demonically. They both heard her jump to the ground.
That's when Timothy pushed the side he had been lifting, sending the whole mobile tumbling off the cliff.
"Skippah!" Private screeched. Skipper didn't respond. He sat there staring. They were trapped. Or were they.
"Skippah! Goodb-" Private cried.
"Jump!" Skipper yelled.
"Are you nuts?!"
"No, I have plan!"
"I hope you're right!" Private gulped. He breathed, and then he leaped for the window.
Glass shattered as he plummeted from the car. He soared toward the giant rocky wall. Then he saw what Skipper was aiming for.
There was a break in the cliff. It was like a platform where he could easily land. Unforunately this was the last sight Private saw before blacking out. He felt his body slam into something stiff and cold, head first. Then the familar thick liquid began to flow around him in pools.
"I'm going to die…" He thought.
Above all of this strife. Ramona and Timothy stood there in eachother's fins. With Timothy's flippers around her waist she laughed. "Here's the grand finale!" They kissed fierciously in front of the inferno-like demons in the fires of hell.
"And to think it couldn't have ended any better." Timothy smiled. Ramona strut back toward the fire, tempting him to follow with her-literal-devilish charm.
Skipper toppled to the edge of the mini cliff, soon after. He fell to his stomach. More of his ribs seemed to break inside his chest. He stopped immediately.
In front of him, Private laid stiff. Blood surrounded his head. Skipper squirmed on his belly. It took all the strength in his flippers to pull himself. Sweat trickled down his face and every movement triggered agony. His brain and survival instincts told him to stay there, and wait, until he gained more strength. But his love for his son wouldn't let him.
It's funny how we associate love with the heart. After all, the heart is just an organ, and love is more complex and strange. It's pondering. But what would we be without love? What would we be without a heart? We can't live without either no matter how much we deny it. We all need some one to care about us-some one behind us no matter what we do-some one who understands you, when no one else does.
Skipper begged, "Please," tears streamed down. "I need strength just enough to help him."
He laid his head down, and sobbed. He reached a fin out to Private's. Once he got a grip on it, he didn't let go. Under his flipper felt a weak pulse. He smiled, overjoyed. "Thank you." He whispered. Then, it happened.
He felt himself gaining his strength. Yet he did not rejoice. He pushed himself to his knees. Gentle flippers brought Private closer. He rested his head on his chest, covering his damaged head.
"I love you, Young Private!" Skipper wept.
"Skippah?" Private moaned. He opened his eyes halfway.
"Private!" Skipper almost shouted.
"Where am I? Was this all a dream?" Private asked dazed.
Skipper shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"Oh dear, Skippah, please forgive-"
"Shh, it's all right."
"You saved my life. After I accused you, and left you there. Why?"
"Wouldn't you do the same?"
"Of course," Private smiled. His eyelids began drooping again. He let out a yawn. "I'm tired."
"No, Private, listen to me! You have to stay awake!" Skipper exclaimed.
"Everything's blurry!" Privare cried.
"Private, if you fall asleep you might not…" Skipper tried to explain that his head injury could kill him, but a low growl caught his attention. The platform they stood on, had a slope of rocks that would lead them to the top, on its right side. Skipper turned his head, and gasped.
Two wolves crouched in a pounce position, eyeing their prey. Their eyes red with fury they leaped on the rocks seperating them from their helpless victims.
He stopped to wonder about the color of their eyes. He had never seen wolves with red eyes. But luckily, he'd never gotten up to one personally before.
"Skippah?! What's wrong?! What's happening?!" Private cried. Their was no escaping. Skipper knew it. The question was: let Private sleep, and die peacefully. Or would he take the chance of having him being ripped to shreds with him?
Too late! A wolf landed in front of him. The other one followed. The tried to get up, but he couldn't. Had he lost strength? Was the miracle turning into a malicious catastrophe?
The wolves circled. Private was still oblivious to his surrounding. All that he knew, was in Skipper's fins. Gripping on to Skipper's feathers, Private could tell something was happening.
Saliva drooled from the canines' teeth, as they spoke and nipped at Skipper's ankle's. As they went on, they got even bolder. Drool became bloodier and bloodier, when several bites prieced Skipper's feathers and hidden skin. Skipper screamed at each unpredictable attack.
"Come on, just one bite of that lushous little one!" The one whined.
"No!" Skipper lunged his beak, trying to peck.
"Aw, c'mon! We're hungry! We wouldn't be doing this, if we weren't." The other one protest.
"He's going to die any way!" The one snarled.
"No, Private, don't listen to them! They're just lying!" Skipper exclaimed.
"Wanna call us liars again, penguin? I mean, we won't mind having dessert. Besides, he's had a fair life span." The one growled baring its teeth.
"Most penguins don't live to see their first birthday." It got closer.
"I'm sorry, Private! I'm so sorry!" Skipper cried. Suddenly, a bone-chilling voice called from the top of the cliff.
"Hey! Over here!" The voice was one that made Private feel safe. Skipper looked up to see if it was actually, who he thought it was. He gasped.
The wolves raced up the slope. Speed didn't make up for their carelessness. The pebbles and stones sent them tripping down. They fell to the bottom of the cliff with a THUD!
"Was that?" Private asked.
"It was," Skipper gasped. "That was Kowalski!"
Private jumped out of Skipper's fins. Forunately, Skipper didn't let go. If he had, Private would have walked off the cliff. "Come on, let's go home." Skipper said softly. Somehow he found the strength to get up.
He carried Private up the cliff attentively, and watched for every pebble and rock alike. In order to avoid the mistake made by the wolves, Skipper took the trip up slow and balanced.
They finally reached the top. But when they searched around, Kowalski was gone. It was like he had vanished. Considering what was going on lately, neither doubted it.
"Thank you," Skipper whispered.
"I love you, Skippah." Private murmured.
"I love you, too, Young Private." Skipper said. The light of a new dawn loomed over the horizon. It was a new day. The beginning of a new life. They both looked forward to meeting their friends again someday in Heaven, but in the meantime, they were happy to be alive with one another.
Some say, if you walk through the singed forest, you can still hear the wails of the tortured and the wicked sneers of the murders. They say the ghostly murders are still haunting there, waiting, anticipating for another victim.
The ghosts could always use some company.
EPILOGUE
"How are these?" Skipper said, resting a thin metal object over the top of Private's beak. He could finally see clearly!
"These are perfect!" Private exclaimed, tracing the frames of his new glasses with his fins. He could see the vet's office around him.
"Now, we both have to wait with these stitches, and we'll be just fine." Skipper said.
When they reached the HQ, the lights were off as they left them. They came in together. Skipper was about to turn on the light switch.
Private's bizzare behavior stopped him. The chubby penguin stopped, and started waddling more and more into the HQ. He looked as if something was there.
"Private, you okay?" Skipper asked. Private turned slowly.
"Of course I am." He smiled.
"You're not Private!" Skipper gasped.
"What makes you think that, Skippah?" He said with his red eyes staring into Skipper's. "It's me."
Skipper laid firm. Ramona circled in closer and closer. His eyes followed her to the best of their ablitities. "Sorry, must have dropped my ax. Better get it out." Ramona teased, and grasped the weapon with both flippers. She wedged it in even tighter, inflicting pain, which caused him to wince even more.
Skipper felt the ax penetrate between his lower ribs. Then, with all her strength-she yanked the ax! "Oh, I've got something!" She cheered, and pulled even harder. There was a sickening CRACK sound, and Skipper already knew she had split one of his ribbones. When the ax was hostily ripped out, a sucking sound-the sound of it coming out of his flesh- followed.
She got to his level. "Why are you doing this?!" Skipper gasped. She grinned and sneered. "I just want to watch you writhe in pain." With one fin she-almost jocosely- felt around his wound. He flinched at each touch. She stopped and stared at his freshly oozing lesion. Out of all the expressions Skipper had seen that were Ramona's, he had never seen her stare at him this way.
Not a second later, she dove in closer. Her sharp beak tore out some of his bloody meat. He screamed. "You cannibal!"
"I always thought you were yummy!" She toyed on, and contuined gnawing viciously. She lifted her head, and wiped the smeared blood off the side of it.
"Stop." Skipper begged. "J-just kill me."
Uncle Nigel stepped out of the car. "Private?! What's wrong?!"
"Why? How are you here?!"
"Skipper just called me. Oh dear, you're covered in blood!" It was true Private was sodden from head-to-toe. "That doesn't matter now! Skipper's in trouble! I have a plan, just trust me!" Private said stepping into the car. Nigel did the same.
Blood flowed off of Skipper's forehead, and into his eyes. The bloody ax laid next to him. He slowly reached for it.
He was almost there. He strugged to bring his body closer. Ramona immediately noticed, and grasped his flipper. Skipper kicked and fidgetted, trying to break free. She raised it above her head. "Good night, Skipper!" She snarled.
Just then, lights flashed from behind her. She looked back. Skipper coughed. She grinned back at him. In a flash, a car was on top of Skipper, and Ramona was sent flying. Her body smacked the ground. She moaned. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she lied motionless.
The car doors flung open. Private rushed out, and his uncle followed. "Skipper?!" Private cried, as he searched below the car. "Private, thank you." Skipper said feebly. "Skipper?" Private called.
"I'm here." Skipper said. Private finally found him, and scooted closer next him. "I'm all right,"
Private touched Skipper's warm feathers. "You saved my life." Private whispered fighting his tears. "You did, too." Skipper smiled.
Not long after that, Nigel and Private assisted Skipper to get up. He limped on into the car, supported by their shoulders. "Private, hand me the first-aid kit." Nigel said.
Nigel stitched Skipper's belly where the ax cut. "It's not too deep, Skipper. After these stitches and time for your rib to heal you'll be fine." Nigel smiled. Private hugged Skipper's neck. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Private cried. "You too, Young Private." Skipper winked.
Private didn't answer. "Private?" Skipper asked. Private was frozen his eyes were incredibly wide. "Private, what is it, lad?!" Nigel question. Private screamed. Skipper looked forward, and grew almost as frightened as Private.
Ramona was waddling toward them. By her side was Timothy with the bloody knife. Nigel turned around, and saw them. "Get in!" Skipper cried. Nigel slammed the back seat door, and dashed for the passenger's door.
He was an inch away Ramona's ax gashed the back of his neck. The force threw his bloody, lifeless face to the glass. "Uncle Nigel!" Private screeched, and dove forward. Skipper's flipper held him back. A hammer broke through the back seat window. Glass shattered, as Skipper threw hinself between the two front seats and in front of the wheel. "Buckle-up, Private!" Skipper demanded.
Stomping on the gas and turning the keys, Skipper took off. Private put his flippers around his head, and began crying hestarically. "It's going to be okay! I promise! But how the fish did they survive?!" Skipper swore.
"They're ghosts, Skippah! We're going to die!" Private cried. Skipper steered them through the trees in a weaving motion. There was an eerie silence. The only sound was the car and Private's weeping. "I'm going to get you out of here." Skipper promised.
Out of nowhere a body came crashing through the window. The tampered corpse laided in Private's lap. It was Kowalski's! Private cried. Skipper swurved, and lost control of the wheel. The car automatically haulted.
"Snapper!" Skipper cussed, and beat the wheel. The car was out of gas! "Come on! We're going on foot!" Skipper called to Private. His soldier was motionless. His eyes were pryed open, and just as still. "Private! Don't do this to me! You just need to keep your head! You can't do this now! They're coming!" Skipper yelled.
"No, you can't take me out there! You can't!" Private whined.
"You either go or die in here!" Skipper argued. "I'll carry you, if I have to! Please!"
"Go without me!"
"Never! I'd never leave you!" Skipper's eyes began to run. Private stood up and hugged Skipper. That drove Skipper to the edge. Not literally, but that would happen soon enough.
"This is where we wrecked isn't it?" Private asked. Skipper nodded. Suddenly the car began shaking. Something was liftng the left side of the car. It could have only been Timothy. Ramona peaked into Skipper's window. She cackled demonically. They both heard her jump to the ground.
That's when Timothy pushed the side he had been lifting, sending the whole mobile tumbling off the cliff.
"Skippah!" Private screeched. Skipper didn't respond. He sat there staring. They were trapped. Or were they.
"Skippah! Goodb-" Private cried.
"Jump!" Skipper yelled.
"Are you nuts?!"
"No, I have plan!"
"I hope you're right!" Private gulped. He breathed, and then he leaped for the window.
Glass shattered as he plummeted from the car. He soared toward the giant rocky wall. Then he saw what Skipper was aiming for.
There was a break in the cliff. It was like a platform where he could easily land. Unforunately this was the last sight Private saw before blacking out. He felt his body slam into something stiff and cold, head first. Then the familar thick liquid began to flow around him in pools.
"I'm going to die…" He thought.
Above all of this strife. Ramona and Timothy stood there in eachother's fins. With Timothy's flippers around her waist she laughed. "Here's the grand finale!" They kissed fierciously in front of the inferno-like demons in the fires of hell.
"And to think it couldn't have ended any better." Timothy smiled. Ramona strut back toward the fire, tempting him to follow with her-literal-devilish charm.
Skipper toppled to the edge of the mini cliff, soon after. He fell to his stomach. More of his ribs seemed to break inside his chest. He stopped immediately.
In front of him, Private laid stiff. Blood surrounded his head. Skipper squirmed on his belly. It took all the strength in his flippers to pull himself. Sweat trickled down his face and every movement triggered agony. His brain and survival instincts told him to stay there, and wait, until he gained more strength. But his love for his son wouldn't let him.
It's funny how we associate love with the heart. After all, the heart is just an organ, and love is more complex and strange. It's pondering. But what would we be without love? What would we be without a heart? We can't live without either no matter how much we deny it. We all need some one to care about us-some one behind us no matter what we do-some one who understands you, when no one else does.
Skipper begged, "Please," tears streamed down. "I need strength just enough to help him."
He laid his head down, and sobbed. He reached a fin out to Private's. Once he got a grip on it, he didn't let go. Under his flipper felt a weak pulse. He smiled, overjoyed. "Thank you." He whispered. Then, it happened.
He felt himself gaining his strength. Yet he did not rejoice. He pushed himself to his knees. Gentle flippers brought Private closer. He rested his head on his chest, covering his damaged head.
"I love you, Young Private!" Skipper wept.
"Skippah?" Private moaned. He opened his eyes halfway.
"Private!" Skipper almost shouted.
"Where am I? Was this all a dream?" Private asked dazed.
Skipper shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"Oh dear, Skippah, please forgive-"
"Shh, it's all right."
"You saved my life. After I accused you, and left you there. Why?"
"Wouldn't you do the same?"
"Of course," Private smiled. His eyelids began drooping again. He let out a yawn. "I'm tired."
"No, Private, listen to me! You have to stay awake!" Skipper exclaimed.
"Everything's blurry!" Privare cried.
"Private, if you fall asleep you might not…" Skipper tried to explain that his head injury could kill him, but a low growl caught his attention. The platform they stood on, had a slope of rocks that would lead them to the top, on its right side. Skipper turned his head, and gasped.
Two wolves crouched in a pounce position, eyeing their prey. Their eyes red with fury they leaped on the rocks seperating them from their helpless victims.
He stopped to wonder about the color of their eyes. He had never seen wolves with red eyes. But luckily, he'd never gotten up to one personally before.
"Skippah?! What's wrong?! What's happening?!" Private cried. Their was no escaping. Skipper knew it. The question was: let Private sleep, and die peacefully. Or would he take the chance of having him being ripped to shreds with him?
Too late! A wolf landed in front of him. The other one followed. The tried to get up, but he couldn't. Had he lost strength? Was the miracle turning into a malicious catastrophe?
The wolves circled. Private was still oblivious to his surrounding. All that he knew, was in Skipper's fins. Gripping on to Skipper's feathers, Private could tell something was happening.
Saliva drooled from the canines' teeth, as they spoke and nipped at Skipper's ankle's. As they went on, they got even bolder. Drool became bloodier and bloodier, when several bites prieced Skipper's feathers and hidden skin. Skipper screamed at each unpredictable attack.
"Come on, just one bite of that lushous little one!" The one whined.
"No!" Skipper lunged his beak, trying to peck.
"Aw, c'mon! We're hungry! We wouldn't be doing this, if we weren't." The other one protest.
"He's going to die any way!" The one snarled.
"No, Private, don't listen to them! They're just lying!" Skipper exclaimed.
"Wanna call us liars again, penguin? I mean, we won't mind having dessert. Besides, he's had a fair life span." The one growled baring its teeth.
"Most penguins don't live to see their first birthday." It got closer.
"I'm sorry, Private! I'm so sorry!" Skipper cried. Suddenly, a bone-chilling voice called from the top of the cliff.
"Hey! Over here!" The voice was one that made Private feel safe. Skipper looked up to see if it was actually, who he thought it was. He gasped.
The wolves raced up the slope. Speed didn't make up for their carelessness. The pebbles and stones sent them tripping down. They fell to the bottom of the cliff with a THUD!
"Was that?" Private asked.
"It was," Skipper gasped. "That was Kowalski!"
Private jumped out of Skipper's fins. Forunately, Skipper didn't let go. If he had, Private would have walked off the cliff. "Come on, let's go home." Skipper said softly. Somehow he found the strength to get up.
He carried Private up the cliff attentively, and watched for every pebble and rock alike. In order to avoid the mistake made by the wolves, Skipper took the trip up slow and balanced.
They finally reached the top. But when they searched around, Kowalski was gone. It was like he had vanished. Considering what was going on lately, neither doubted it.
"Thank you," Skipper whispered.
"I love you, Skippah." Private murmured.
"I love you, too, Young Private." Skipper said. The light of a new dawn loomed over the horizon. It was a new day. The beginning of a new life. They both looked forward to meeting their friends again someday in Heaven, but in the meantime, they were happy to be alive with one another.
Some say, if you walk through the singed forest, you can still hear the wails of the tortured and the wicked sneers of the murders. They say the ghostly murders are still haunting there, waiting, anticipating for another victim.
The ghosts could always use some company.
EPILOGUE
"How are these?" Skipper said, resting a thin metal object over the top of Private's beak. He could finally see clearly!
"These are perfect!" Private exclaimed, tracing the frames of his new glasses with his fins. He could see the vet's office around him.
"Now, we both have to wait with these stitches, and we'll be just fine." Skipper said.
When they reached the HQ, the lights were off as they left them. They came in together. Skipper was about to turn on the light switch.
Private's bizzare behavior stopped him. The chubby penguin stopped, and started waddling more and more into the HQ. He looked as if something was there.
"Private, you okay?" Skipper asked. Private turned slowly.
"Of course I am." He smiled.
"You're not Private!" Skipper gasped.
"What makes you think that, Skippah?" He said with his red eyes staring into Skipper's. "It's me."