| Arnold sighed, and leaned his shoulder against the wooden frame of the Test Your Strength apparatus. Despite its name, the fairground was rarely deserted, so he cherished these brief moments of reprieve from —
"Ooh, over there! I bet I can hit the jackpot!" With a squeal, a young Red Shoyru dragged her friend, a Pastel Aisha, straight toward Arnold.
"Roll up, roll up, test your strength!" he called out, straightening to attention and restoring his practised smile. Back to the usual, then. It wasn't that he resented his job; it was lucrative and he could set his own hours. It was just so very... the same. Every day, the same. Forever.
"You know this thing is rigged, right?" the Aisha asked, doubt written all over her face.
"I don't care," the Shoyru responded, "I've been training at, y'know, that secret place lately. I bet I'm stronger than whatever rigging is in place!"
"I assure you, this game is not rigged," Arnold said as he passed the mallet to the Shoyru. He hoped she didn't notice how robotic his voice felt. He wondered if anyone had ever noticed.
The Shoyru set her jaw in determination and swung the mallet from side to side, testing its weight. She raised it up, breathed in deep, and swung, hitting the button dead centre.
And then, to Arnold's surprise more than anyone, something happened that was very much NOT the same... |
Author: spidero
Date: Jul 28th
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The mallet made a horrific crunching sound and splintered apart in the Shoyru's hands. She snatched her hands back, letting the scraps of wood fall to the ground. For a moment, they all stood there, mute, until the tinny ringing of the bell indicated that the Shoyru had managed to make it to "Average".
"Here's your prize," Arnold said, moving on autopilot to hand her a cheap mug from behind the counter.
The Shoyru stared cluelessly at the mug and then at the wreckage on the ground, then finally snapped back into speaking. "Oh... my... Fyora. I am so sorry! I can't believe I just broke your mallet! I really didn't think- Can I pay you for it?"
"Don't worry about it," Arnold said, that customer service smile plastered on his face. "Happens all the time." He'd told a lot of... well, not exactly /lies/, but this one was a lot harder to project confidence behind.
"Oh... well... okay..." the Shoyru said, hesitantly taking the mug from him. "Really, I am so sorry-"
"Come on, Marie," the Aisha hissed. "Let's go before you break something else."
With another glance at the shattered mallet, the Shoyru let her friend lead her away.
Arnold sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He'd have to put up a sign that his game was out of order for the time being, and then he'd have to figure out a way to source a new mallet. Where had he even gotten this one from in the first place? This mallet had been swung by thousands of sweaty Neopian paws and had never so much as cracked. Still, he should've expected that this would've happened sooner or later. And he needed to get this mess cleaned up before someone got a splinter in their foot and filed a complaint.
He knelt down and began picking up the pieces of wood, when all of a sudden he saw...
| Author: ellienib
Date: Jul 29th |
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...a note, crumpled and stained and clearly very old. There must have been some sort of hidden compartment in the mallet, something he'd somehow never found in all his years of working the game. It lay there in the wreckage of the mallet, begging to be read.
With slightly trembling hands, Arnold picked it up. Carefully, he smoothed the paper out, not wanting to damage the ancient parchment. The dim, perpetual twilight of the Haunted Woods made the faded ink difficult to read, so Arnold put up the out of order sign and took the note out back. Lighting a lantern, he was able to make out most of the message:
Arnold, if you're reading this, it means I'm in grave danger. Quickly, make your way to Neovia. You'll understand once you get there. I only hope it's not too late...
A chill ran through Arnold when he saw who had signed it...
| Author: madidogs88
Date: Jul 30th |
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Tippens, the tall, mustachioed president of the Spooky Shindig Society.
Arnold and Tippens had been friends for years, originally bonding over their shared fondness of stylish clothing at Prigpants & Swolthy, Tailors.
Arnold knew he couldn’t waste another second, so he swiftly closed up his broken attraction and headed down the dark path to Neovia. Screams and howls in the distance sent a chill through his body, but he reminded himself these were normal sounds for this area.
Something, however, felt off all around him. Despite it being the middle of summer, the air was icy cold, and the usual Petpets flying through the air and walking along the path were nowhere to be seen.
Finally, Arnold reached the gates of Neovia and gasped at…
| Author: ningkov1
Date: Jul 31st |
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...how empty Neovia was.
It wasn't just the petpets that were missing. Neovia looked like a ghost town, silent except for the howl of the cold wind. There were no townsfolk in the streets, no shopkeepers calling out their wares, not even shady types offering items like bottles of Hissi Oil.
"H-Hello?" Arnold managed to say as he stepped into Neovia. It felt as though the temperature had dropped a few more degrees once he was within the town. He looked around at the empty houses and buildings.
Tippens, he thought, might know what was happening. So, he quickly made his way toward the headquarters of the Spooky Shindig Society. It wasn't hard to find, just a couple of corners and one block, and the Mynci tried to focus on where he was going. Once he found Tippens, they could -
Suddenly, Arnold let out a yelp as he was grabbed from the street and pulled into a dark alley...
| Author: precious_katuch14
Date: Aug 1st |
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“You finally made it,” said a familiar voice in a low, slightly breathless tone.
Arnold spun around to see his old friend. “Tipp—” he began, a rush of relief flooding him at the sight of the one who had summoned him. But the Chomby quickly clamped a hand over the Mynci’s mouth and leaned his long neck out of the alleyway, scanning the street with sharp, cautious eyes.
Tippens looked much the same as Arnold remembered, still sporting his gentlemanly moustache, but his face was drawn and weary now, his clothes in tatters, his whole posture tense.
After making sure the coast was clear, Tippens turned back to him. “I thought that yelp earlier might’ve drawn the wrong kind of attention, but it seems we’re safe… for now.” He patted Arnold’s shoulder with the same familiar warmth as always. “Nice to see you, friend. I’ve been waiting.”
“What’s going on in Neovia? Why was there a note in my mallet? How did you even get it in there? And why did it break now of all times?” The barrage of questions shot out of the Mynci in a single impatient breath.
But before Tippens could answer, their reunion was cut short by…
| Author: acherub
Date: Aug 5th |
|
...a distant, heavy thud, then another, rhythmic and deliberate. Thump. Tippens froze even before he had begun to respond to Arnold's rapid-fire questions, his eyes wide. “No,” he whispered. “They found us.”
The footsteps reverberated, unnaturally loud and impossibly close. Thump. Arnold followed Tippens’ gaze toward the front of the alley just in time to see a silhouette pause under the flickering gaslight. Thump. The figure's jacket offered Arnold some comfort; he would recognize Prigpants anywhere. Before he could suggest to Tippens that it was merely a local equally perplexed at Neovia's emptiness, the figure tilted its head toward the alley, the light catching the grotesque features. Thump.
What once was a dignified Neopian Lenny in a finely tailored jacket had been transformed. Thump. One wing hung too long, with clawed feathers dragging faint grooves in the cobblestones. Thump. The other twitched with each step, as if resisting a pull only it could feel. Thump.
"What...what is that?" Arnold's uneasy whisper was pointless. The figure's glowing red eyes fixated squarely on the pair, and it began to smile slowly...
| Author: traxentside
Date: Aug 6th |
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… his face transforming into a twisted grin that stretched far too wide across its beak. As he smiled, rows of needle-sharp teeth were revealed that definitely hadn’t been there before. The Lenny took another thunderous step towards them, its malformed wing scraping against the wall, leaving deep scratches in the bricks.
“Tippens,” Arnold breathed, his voice barely audible, “please tell me you know what that thing is.”
The Chomby’s face had gone pale beneath his moustache. “That’s…. Well, that WAS Prigpants.” he whispered back, his voice filled with terror. “He disappeared two weeks ago… but Arnold, whatever that thing is, it’s not Prigpants anymore.”
The creature that had once been Neovia’s most distinguished tailor let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a screech, the terrible noise echoing off the alley walls. Its glowing red eyes never left the two friends as it raised one grotesque wing, pointing directly at them.
“We have to run!” Tippens said urgently, grabbing Arnold’s arm. “There’s a stairwell in this alley that leads into the basement of the old antique shop, but we have to go now, before–”
But the rest of the Chomby’s words were cut off by…
How will this story end?
| Author: barrelchic22
Date: Aug 6th |
|
…the sudden appearance of another figure on the far end of the alley.
The silhouette lumbered forward into the moonlight. It was Swolthy. Or some version of him. He looked just as grotesque as Prigpants, and his tail dragged unnaturally behind him with eerie rhythm.
“We may be too late,” Tippens muttered.
Arnold jerked as Tippens shoved him down a narrow set of wooden steps into the basement of the antique shop. The darkness caused him to stumble.
“Tippens,” Arnold hissed. “I’m not usually scared of the dark, but with the current circumstances, can we find a light?”
Suddenly, blinding lights burst on. Arnold shielded his eyes, blinking as his vision adjusted.
His jaw dropped. The room was full of normal Neovian citizens.
The Crumpetmonger stood at a table covered in flour. Bart manned a punch bowl. Alabaster chuckled at Arnold’s surprise.
“You’re…But… Wait…What about Prigpants and Swolthy?” Arnold cried, rounding on Tippens.
“You kept saying life was too boring, friend,” Tippens said, smiling sheepishly. “So we staged a little Neovian apocalypse.”
As if on cue, Prigpants entered the room, still in mutated costume. “I think I make this look work,” he said, examining himself in the mirror.
Tippens patted Arnold on the back. “Did we do a good job adding a little excitement to your life?”
Arnold sighed, but smiled in return. “Yes. But next time, let’s just go on a vacation.”
The End.
| Author: treeword
Date: Aug 8th |
