A Dark Avenue Carol

[Libitina]

I hope this story involves me telling Tragedy not to drink or have sex.

[Mijahu]

This...this is good.

[Sixteen]

Chapter 3

A blinding white light filled the bedroom of Ebenezer Tragedy. He woke immediately and covered his eyes from the glare. The shock of being woken by something so extraordinary only served to put him in a fouler mood than usual. At the end of his bed stood a person, but he could only make out its silhouette. The person seemed to have six legs and two arms. In fact, it didn’t look much like a person at all. Suddenly, Tragedy remembered the visit he had received earlier that night. It hadn’t been his imagination.
“Stay back, spirit!” he yelled at the disfigured creature, pulling his sheets over his head. “I have no business with you! Be gone!”
The light began to dim and Tragedy blinked, dazzled from its intensity. As he was rubbing his eyes, the spirit cleared its throat. Tragedy looked up from beneath his bedclothes and was able to make out the person at the foot of his bed. It wasn’t a deformed monster as he originally thought. It was actually Antenora, sitting atop a stuffed tiger.
“Antenora,” he whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“I am the Ghost of 667 Past,” she answered, standing up. “I’m here to take you on a journey through time.”
“Sounds good to me,” Tragedy said sarcastically. “But how exactly are we going to do that?”
“Hop on,” Antenora smiled as she tapped the rear end of the tiger.
Tragedy was going to point out that she was being ridiculous but then he realised that this whole experience was more ridiculous than anything he’d ever experienced. Antenora helped him up onto the tiger’s back and she held onto its neck. The stuffed animal let out a deafening roar and the intense light returned, causing Tragedy to squint. He couldn’t see what was happening, but when the light finally disappeared they were outside 667 Dark Avenue and the sun was shining.

Birds flew through the air and tweeted sweetly. None of the people walking by seemed disturbed by the sudden appearance of two people riding a stuffed tiger.
“They can’t see us,” Antenora said, as though she had read Tragedy’s mind. “So don’t bother trying to talk to them. We’re here to watch.”
It took him a minute to realise that there were little differences to the building that weren’t quite right. The old wooden doors had been replaced about six months ago, yet here they were looking brand new. The walls were painted a bright green, something Tragedy had fixed within days of buying the place. Before he could piece all this together, the doors opened. He was shocked to see himself walking down the steps with a realtor.
“I’m glad we’ve reached a decision, Mr. Tragedy,” the realtor said. “667 Dark Avenue is now all yours.” They shook hands and Young Tragedy smiled up at his new home. He walked back inside.
Antenora tapped Tragedy on the shoulder and nodded. “It’s time for our next stop.”

After the light had cleared this time, Tragedy found himself squashed up against the back window of a car.
“Oops,” Antenora said. “I forgot to take the tiger into account. I’m sorry there’s not much room.”
“Whose car is this?” Tragedy asked, unable to turn his head. He was surprised when he heard his own voice reply.
“I’ll be with you soon, my love,” Young Tragedy said as they passed a signpost for Michigan.

The next time they landed, Tragedy was in a bad mood.
“Do we really have to do this?” he groaned, knowing what was coming next. They were in his penthouse apartment and Young Tragedy was on the phone.
“Oh hi,” he said.
“Is that it?” Fancy asked on the other end. “You haven’t spoken to me in weeks. I live downstairs and I still never see you. You just sit up there in the penthouse all day. What’s going on?”
“nm u,” Young Tragedy replied.
“That’s it,” Fancy said. “I can’t do this any more. We’re finished.”
“Wait,” Young Tragedy said, sitting up. “You’re breaking up with me? Good one.”
She had already hung up the phone. The bright light returned and they moved on.

They found themselves standing on the roof of 667 Dark Avenue as two people looked over the edge. Tragedy approached them and realised it was himself and Jacob Malachi. They were throwing water balloons at the 667ers leaving the building.
“Good shot,” Malachi said.
“Thanks, bro,” Young Tragedy said, grinning.
“Our adventures will never end.”
“Probably.”
But their adventures did end. Definitively.

The next tiger-journey brought them to Tragedy’s office. Young Tragedy sat behind the desk reading Malachi’s will.
“In the event of my death, I leave everything to my co-landlord and bro, Tragedy. Oh, except my kittens. They go to my bff, Fancy.
Signed,
Jacob Malachi.”
Young Tragedy looked around, but he did not see a bro. He filled a glass with whiskey and raised it. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he drank.
“To Malachus.”

Tragedy could feel tears welling up as Antenora brought him to their next stop. He wiped his eyes before she saw him and looked around the room. They were back in the penthouse and Young Tragedy was screaming at somebody. A woman in a French maid’s outfit burst through the door.
“I quit!” she screamed. “I can’t take it any more.”
“What are you talking about?” Young Tragedy shouted back. “I pay you good money to work here.”
“All the money in the world couldn’t convince me to stay. You’re a horrible person. The only reason 667ers put up with you is that you give them a place to call home. I don’t even live here, so I’m out.” The maid slammed the door shut.
“Bah humbug!” Young Tragedy grumbled to himself.

Antenora looked at Tragedy and closed her eyes. The blinding light returned and this time, when it disappeared, Tragedy was alone in his bed. He fell instantly asleep and dreamed of the old days and times gone by.

[Deleted]

Our adventures ended
Amazing chapter.

[Shelly]

The parallels are amazing.

[Emma “Emmz” Squalor]

Another incredible chapter!

I was laughing throughout, and I loved the addition of the flying stuffed tiger. I wish I had one.

[Linda Rhaldeen]

Awesome. I wasn't expecting Antenora - I thought if she turned up she'd be the ghost of Christmas future.

[Libitina]

Astonishing.

[Mijahu]

Haha French maid's outfit

[Fancy]

Nov 20, 2009 15:06:35 GMT -5 Sixteen said:

Tragedy looked up from beneath his bedclothes

Trag in pajamas? That's the one part of the story that wasn't believable. Other than that, awesomeness.

Nov 20, 2009 15:06:35 GMT -5 Sixteen said:

“Our adventures will never end.”
“Probably.”

Lolololol.

[Sixteen]

Chapter 4

Tragedy woke an hour later as the room was beginning to fill with light. This time, however, it was a soft glow rather than a blinding glare. The light curled around the legs of his bed and crept upwards. He felt a warmth envelop him as he was bathed in the rays. The source seemed to be coming from the living room. Tragedy got out of bed and made his way over to the door. Slowly, he peered around and was surprised to see another familiar face.

Mijahu sat on a throne by the fireplace. He was dressed in a t-shirt bearing the name of some indie band you’ve probably never heard of. On his head was a crown of marijuana leaves.
“Hey you,” Mijahu said, seeing Tragedy peeking into the room. “There’s no need to be afraid. I am the Ghost of 667 Present.” He threw his arms up in the air in a flamboyant gesture, almost falling off his throne in the process.
“You’re not bringing me back in time, are you?” Tragedy asked, afraid he would have to relive more painful memories.
“No, no,” Mijahu replied. “I’ll be bringing you through the halls of 667 as it currently is. We’ll run into a few interesting people along the way, no doubt. When you’re ready, we’ll take off.”
“I’ve had enough flying for one night,” Tragedy whimpered. “Can’t we just walk?”
“Ugh,” Mijahu groaned, “if we must.” He bent down to the fire to light a joint. It burned briefly and then magically transformed into a torch, using magic. They left the penthouse and made their way downstairs.

On the next floor down, Mijahu stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Tragedy asked him.
“Oh, nothing,” Mijahu said, smiling. “I just thought this would be a good place to start.” He took Tragedy’s hand, waved his magic torch and they slid through the door of the apartment as if it wasn’t there. Tragedy shivered and closed his eyes, uncomfortable with the whole experience. When he finally felt calm enough to open his eyes again, he saw that they were in the Cratchit home. A little girl was standing on a stool, stirring a bubbling pot. The door opened behind them and Sixteen walked in.
“Little Libitina,” he called to the girl. “I’m so sorry to leave you cooking the dinner yet again, but Mr. Tragedy extended my shift. I hope you managed alright on your own.”
“Yes, father,” Little Libitina replied, hugging him. “I understand. You need to work all the hours you can. We’re running low on money as it is.” Sixteen, hanging his winter coat on a hook, frowned.
“I have some bad news, actually,” he said. “Mr. Tragedy has cut my pay again.”
“What?!” Little Libitina screeched. “That is outrageous! How can he do such a thing?”
“Now, now,” Sixteen said sternly. “I won’t hear a word of it. Mr. Tragedy was kind enough to offer us a place to live when your mother passed away. He has even given me a job, so we must be gracious.”
Tragedy, watching from the corner with Mijahu, crossed his arms.
“That little girl needs discipline,” he said to the spirit. “Speak when you’re spoken to, that’s what children need to learn.”
“This soup looks ready,” Sixteen said, glancing into the pot. “Call your siblings, Libitina.”
“Oh God,” Tragedy said. “I hate these kids. They’re always babbling inanely into the night. I can hear them through the floor. Many times I’ve wished I could just give them a swift kick to the backside. Sixteen is too soft.”
“Tiny Trikip! Tiny Triangle Eyes!” Libitina called. There was a rustling noise from behind a door to the right. It opened and a little boy walked out. He held the door open behind him and waited for his sister. With much effort, Tiny Triangle Eyes rolled out on a wheelchair that looked fit to collapse. The wheels squeaked and rattled as she crossed the floor to the dinner table.
“I didn’t know,” Tragedy whispered, feeling a pang of guilt. “Sixteen’s daughter is a cripple. I would never have treated her with such disrespect, if only I had realised. She’s pretty hot, too.” Mijahu rolled his eyes.
The family sat down for dinner. Sixteen looked around at his children, worried about the future. Things couldn’t continue this way, and yet there was no other choice. They couldn’t leave 667. He sighed and began to eat.
“Ew... this tastes like poop,” Tiny Trikip said.
“Tiny Trikip,” Sixteen said, “your sister worked hard on this soup. Please try to be more appreciative.”
“LOL soup rhymes with poop. It’s poop soup. AM I RIGHT?”
“What a brat,” Tragedy said. “I can forgive his cripple sister, but this child deserves whatever comes his way.”
“I almost forgot,” Trikip said, rooting around in his pocket. “I haven’t taken my insulin today.”
Tragedy’s face dropped. A gnawing feeling grew and spread from the pit of his stomach. All this time, he had been cursing Tiny Trikip. He had wished horrible things happen to the boy and now, too late, he realised that he had diabetes. Tragedy walked over to Tiny Trikip.
“Can the boy see me?” he asked Mijahu. The spirit shook its head. Tragedy bent down to look Tiny Trikip in the eye.
“I’m sorry, dear child,” he whispered. “It is not fair.”

When Tragedy had composed himself, they left the Cratchits and continued down through 667 Dark Avenue. Five floors down, the Ghost of 667 Present stopped. They were standing outside Shelly’s apartment. Tragedy looked glumly at Mijahu and took his arm. With a magical wave of the torch, they were inside.
“I, for one, am glad,” Elle said. The party-goers seemed to be having some kind of debate.
“So am I,” said Doorknobs. “I know I don’t live here full-time, but even I know how much of a creep he is.”
“Guys, please,” said Emma Squalor, “we’re here to celebrate Shelly’s anniversary. We need to put petty differences aside. He should have at least been invited.”
“Then why didn’t you ask him?” Katekor pointed out. Emma didn’t reply.
“He’d only sit by himself in the corner if he was here,” Jemima said.
“Shut up, cat girl,” Charlotte retorted, between mouthfuls of cake.
“I’m new here,” Tiago Squalor said, “so I haven’t really had time to get to know Mr. Tragedy. From the way you people speak about him, though, he sounds awful.”
“Believe me,” Songbird said, drily. “He is.”
Tragedy was getting angrier as the argument went on. They were speaking as if he wasn’t standing right there! Of course, once he tried to defend himself, he remembered they couldn’t see or hear him. He retreated and asked Mijahu to take him away. The spirit conceded.
“We have just one more visit to make,” he said, taking Tragedy’s arm. “We’re going outside.”

They left 667 and walked down Dark Avenue. It was freezing cold outside and Tragedy wished he had wrapped up warmer. Mijahu led him towards a filthy alley. Rooting through the trash was a scrawny, young woman in rags.
“What is this, spirit?” Tragedy asked, confused.
“Do you remember,” Mijahu asked, “a girl called Masterviolet? You threw her out of her apartment when she refused to sit by the pool. This is what she has become.”
“Um... am I supposed to feel bad? I’m glad she left 667.”
“Yeah, you’re right, that’s a bad example. Masterviolet was a magee.” Mijahu waved the torch and they were in a different alley, watching two women fight over a dumped mattress.
“This is Rellim,” Mijahu said. “The woman she’s fighting with is Gigi. They’ve spent the past few months out here, braving the elements. They couldn’t keep up with rent payments at 667 and now they’ve resorted to this. Do you understand?”
Tragedy looked at what he had caused and nodded solemnly. All of a sudden, the atmosphere changed. Tragedy looked over to his spirit companion and tripped backwards in shock. Mijahu’s face had become old and withered. The leaves around his head were falling to the ground, covered in frost. The torch cast flickering shadows across the face of the spirit, flashing horrible silhouettes through his deep wrinkles.
“REPENT,” Mijahu said in a booming voice. An icy wind blew out the torch and the Ghost of 667 Present vanished without a trace.

Tragedy stood huddled in the dark, cold alley and looked around for anyone at all. He shivered and stepped back out onto the main avenue. From a distance, he could see a dark figure approaching. Never had he been more terrified than he was right now.

[Emma “Emmz” Squalor]

That was so amazing! You did an excellent job combining comedy and drama.

[Mijahu]

Nov 24, 2009 16:50:43 GMT -5 Sixteen said:

“Yeah, you’re right, that’s a bad example. Masterviolet was a magee.”

Baha nice.

Also, now I want that crown.

[Deleted]

lol haha magee. this is awesome.

[Hermedy]

Classic Sixteen.