Alone and afraid

"And, as the menacing shadow towered over the boy, he realized the monster...was him!" Skipper tipped back his head, and uttered a diabolical laugh.

Kowalski arched his eyebrow "what? That wasn't even scary".

"Everyone's worse fear is turning into the monster they feared" he replied, modestly.

"Yeah, and cliche" Marlene retorted with a roll of her eyes. The group of friends were currently gathered in the cemetery, inside the small gazebo resting in the centre of the row upon row of recent, and past graves. A lone candle sat between them, providing the only light with its flickering white flame.

"Who wants to go next?" asked Private. Everyone's gaze fell on him.

"Why don't you go, Private?" Marlene suggested.

"Me?" She nodded, "well..." he stared down at his flippers, wrung together in a knot "okay" he looked out at the sets of eyes staring back at him, and gulped. He adverted his gaze to the candle casting light across his face, gaining his courage from the warmth of the flame. "A boy and his mother moved into a house, each passing night he would hear the sounds of a dog barking, but the neighbouring homes didn't have pets. The boy could hear its paws scampering across the floor late at night, he got up to investigate, but found nothing. While out in the yard he discovered an old dirtied ball in the grass, the barking started again, and this time he could feel the air passing him. But, it wasn't the wind; it had been a calm day. While renovating the house they discovered remains, remains of a dog".

The others stared at him expectantly "that's it?" Skipper questioned.

Private could feel the temperature rising in his cheeks, he scratched the back of his head embarrassingly. "I don't remember how it actually went" he admitted.

"Alright, Marlene. You're next".

Marlene nodded, and shifted herself into a more comfortable position. "Alright, this is the story of the licked hand" she lowered her head, and stared into the darkened pupils of her friends with an unnerving smile. "Her parents had told her to lock all of the doors, and windows, for they would be out late tonight. There was one window she couldn't completely shut, instead she tucked a rolled up blanket under it. It was her first night home alone, fortunately her dog was with her to provide moral support. With nothing else to do she decided to go to bed, letting her dog lick her hand before she fell asleep. She awoke with a start, for reasons she didn't know, it was three in the morning, and her parents still weren't home, a sudden dripping sounded from the bathroom. She figured she had left the tap on, and the noise was the water dripping into the drain. She reached her hand down under the bed where her dog slept, and felt it lick her hand.

Feeling reassured she stared up at ceiling wondering when her parents would come home, she let her dog lick her hand again before going back to sleep. When she awoke it was six in the morning, she looked out the window and saw her parents car pull up in the driveway. Good she thought, maybe they can fix the sink, because I'm certain I didn't leave the taps going. She headed into the bathroom for a drink a water, there was her dog; skinned and hanging limp from the shower rod, the dripping she heard was its blood falling onto a puddle on the floor. She screamed, on the floor written in its blood was a note; Humans can lick too".

Private felt something lick his flipper and yelped, he quickly turned his head to see Rico, salvia dripping from his tongue. Skipper and Marlene erupted into a fit of laughter, "now, that's a dog story" he praised with a high five.

"That wasn't funny" he pouted, flippers folded.

"Lighten up, it's all in good fun" Maurice nudged his shoulder with a grin.

"Alright, everyone shut up. I am the going next" Julien declared pompously, he flexed his chest out in emphasis. Marlene rolled her eyes, second guessing their decision to bring the arrogant king along.

He cleared his throat "there once was an ugly little lemur named Mort".

"Just like me!" said lemur chimed.

Julien shot a glare at the mouse lemur, he projected his voice across the cemetery "he was so ugly, that everyone killed themselves so they wouldn't have to stand his putrid ugliness, and how he always wants to touch the feet. Even though I've told him a million times, no!".

The group shared a collective sigh as he rambled on, and on, going off on a tangent about how much he despised Mort. They switched their gaze to Maurice, he nodded interpreting the message. He moved closer to the candle, the glowing light throwing a shadow across his face. He deepened his gruff voice, hoping to reset the mood.

"It is said that in this very cemetery a spirit walks among us. Some have claimed to see it during the day, but at night you can hear its ghostly howl beckoning to you, the chains it carries as it walks amongst the grass rustling. The wind you feel across your face is its cool breath, some believe it is the grim reaper itself. It's victims are identified by the distinct markings on their chest from the scythe. Every year a few days before Halloween it demands a sacrifice to keep this city in peace. With each year a suitor is chosen to deliver said sacrifice...right at this spot".

The light from the candle extinguished, leaving them in darkness. Private jumped and clung to Skipper, he pushed him off with gloating smile "nice try, Maurice. It's gonna take a lot more than that to scare me".

"That wasn't me" he replied.

The wind rattled through the ramshackle joint with a howl, a scream broke out. The seven looked around the shadows, blinded by the lack of light. Rico reached down his throat and pulled out a match, the small glow casted a circle of light around them. Skipper looked beside him, Marlene was gone.

"Marlene?"

He stepped out of the gazebo "Marlene?!" he hollered. A shadow darted past, rustling the dry leaves strewed across the ground. They quickly jerked their heads to the right, all that was there was a marble tombstone. The fur, and feathers on their necks stood up from the warm puffs of air exhaled from behind. Private whimpered and slowly turned around. A sharp set of canines stared back at him, he screamed and fell to the ground with a thud.

The others began to break into a round of laughter, "what's so funny?" he asked between frantic pants.

Marlene stepped out of the shadows "relax Private, it's just me".

"Ha, you should have seen the look on your face!" Julien bellowed, doubling over with uncontrollable laughter.

Private glared back at them, "geez Private, does everything scare you?. I bet you can't even go one night in a cemetery without getting spooked, and shoving off for home" Skipper declared.

"I can too" Private spat, he picked himself off of the ground, and dusted the leaves from his feathers.

"Prove it" he handed him a knife "if you can stay the night standing on a grave, then maybe you're not such a Nancy cat after all".

Private snatched the blade from his flipper "fine, I will".

"To prove that you did stay, leave this knife in the ground" Kowalski instructed "although I would not advise you to go through with this" he said in a low tone.

"I'll show you guys!" Private shouted, he wandered over to the grave closest to him and stood on it, shaking it at them "you'll see".

"See you in the morning" Julien chuckled, the others trailed behind him, his narrowed eyes followed them out. The footsteps began to fade, as did their laughter, and his confidence. He quietly sat on the grass, his back against the cool texture of the stone.

The wind continued to sweep through the cemetery, sending tremors down his back. He folded his knees to his chest, and stared out at the row of stones before him.

Alright Private, you can do this.

His flipper curled around the handle of the blade, shaking with fear. He wished they hadn't told those stories to him, they were beginning to bring out his paranoia. He sighed, and tried to reassure himself that it was just a boneyard, there was nothing to fear but fear itself. Private listened to the sounds around him, attentive to his surroundings. The rats scampering, the owls hooting, the gate creaking in the wind.

A bang sounded from behind him, he jumped, losing control of his body; which was now quivering uncontrollably. The feathers on the back of his neck raised, he whimpered and pressed his back further into the stone. The wind seemed to whisper his name, maybe it was his paranoia, and terror creating voices in his head, he couldn't be sure. He didn't think things could get any creepier, why had he agreed to do this? Right, to prove to Skipper that he could be brave. And he could be; he would stay all night if he had to.

He felt the ground vibrate, his eyes widened, he pulled his knees closer. Fear took control of his mind, and wiped every ounce of courage he had away. He just wanted to go home, why had he been so prideful? Of course he couldn't do this. Private remained where he was paralyzed, his mind was running amok with his crazed imagination; everything was morphing into a terrifying image. His heart beat quickened, he closed his eyes trying to slow it down. He could feel his chest heaving, was he hyperventilating? He couldn't even tell anymore.

Another creak, his eyes flew open. That was long enough, he had proven his point. He felt for the handle of the knife with his shaking flippers, and thrust the blade into the ground. With a slow breath of relief he moved forward to go home, and that's when he realized with sickening horror; he couldn't move. Something had his foot, he could feel the sharp nails driving through the flesh. The air was thick and heavy, he had no match, or any tool to provide light and see what had him.

Without even having to think Private's instinct took over, and a scream escaped from his beak. He screamed, and thrashed out "help me! Something has my leg! Please help!". He jerked forward and fell to the ground, screeching as loud as his lungs would allow. He clawed at the ground and tried to get away, his heart beating a mile a minute, feeling it would burst from his chest completely. A quick pain spread through his chest. Everything went black.

The following morning the others realized Private hadn't returned, they headed to the cemetery, and approached the grave where they last saw the young rookie. They found him lying on the ground, eyes wide in horror, his mouth twisted back into a scream. The knife was impaled through his foot, and into the ground; in his panicked haste he had driven the knife through.