When it Rains, it Pours
Greetings, denizens of the Reality Sphere. Thou mayest call me Pascheon, Guardian of the Past. The Maker hath given unto me the duty of telling thee another of the tales of the beast Shadur. Listen well, denizens of the Reality Sphere.
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It was a spring night when I found myself in a situation that shouldn’t have been as familiar to me as it was. I was surrounded by muscular men without shirts, fists raised, and another man was in front of me. Both our shirts were off and there was a lot of yelling. The man had obviously been drinking quite a bit as he could barely stand up straight.
“Come on, guys, this is hardly fair. How much has he had?” I asked.
“Jest get ta fightin’!” my opponent yelled as he clumsily lurched forward to throw a punch. I sighed and took a step to the side. “Where’d ya go, ya rodent!?”
I rolled my eyes and pushed him with a single finger. Of course, he toppled and didn’t get back up. Barely audible were his snores. “Not quite what I expected, but it’ll do,” I said as the men laughed. “Like I said, hardly fair. Why did you guys even let him fight?”
“ ‘Cause it were funny!” was the reply. I shook my head, tired of the fighting competition and glad it was over. After collecting my winnings and gear, I left the bar.
“Sixty bucks, eh? Not a whole lot, but it’ll get me a night, I guess.” I had hardly made it down the block when some men in black clothing walked out from the shadows. My fur stood on end.
“Hold it right there, you flea bitten furball,” the leader said.
“Okay, first off, really?” I protested. “I barely got into town two hours ago and the racists are already out. Secondly, ‘furball?’ I don’t go around calling the lot of you ‘furless apes,’ do I? Oh, that’s just perfect.” One of the men had reached behind him and pulled out a rope. “This is one of those types of groups?” Then something hit the back of my head and everything went dark.
I woke up to the feeling of rain pouring down my back and a drenched tail. Not pleasant if you’re not expecting it, let me tell you. It wasn’t long before I noticed that my hands were tied behind my back and I had a noose around my neck. “Lovely,” I muttered. “They never let me just move on, just jump straight to the hanging.” Then I heard the yelling.
“These freaks have been the cause of our troubles for years! Hell, they’re the cause of the Ruin! Has it escaped your notice that none of them were around before everything went to shit!?”
“Excuse me,” I spoke up, “if we’re going to accuse me of something, can it be something I haven’t heard recently?”
“Shut up!” one of the nearby men said before slugging me in the stomach.
I gasped for a second, then kept right on going. “I mean, I’ve been called a demon before, but that was years ago. Why do you guys always have to bring up the Ruin?”
“I said shut up!” Another slug to the stomach. It didn’t stop me.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, the Ruin affected us, too. Hell, we were worse off before. The stories say we were kept in cages and experimented on. Maybe someone finally got tired of it and pressed the big reset button!”
“That’s it!” The man with aggression issues slugged me again as another drew his sword. The punch knocked me off of the perch I had been put on and I used that to swing myself forward as the guy with the sword swung it at me. The swing was timed just perfectly to cut the rope binding my hands and by the time I would have been swinging backward again, I had the noose off and was up in the tree.
“You see what happens when you get upset, boys?” a voice said from the crowd that had gathered. The town’s sheriff stepped out of the crowd and shook his head. “Now you’ve let the rat escape. You should’ve shot him first chance you got.”
“Hey! I’m not a rat! Didn’t you see the mask? I’m a raccoon, asshole!” What can I say? I’m proud of what I am. Unfortunately, that got me in trouble, once again as they all drew their guns and started firing into the tree I was hiding in. I won’t say I dodged all of them but I have gotten pretty good at surviving this sort of thing. As soon as they were all reloading, I dropped from the tree, ignoring the pain from the bullet wounds in my leg, and darted forward.
The first guy didn’t even know what hit him. Before he could look up, I was up close, personal, and kicking him in the gut. Later, I’d find that he was the guy who loved punching me. Talk about turning the tables, right? The second guy saw me coming, but I didn’t give him a chance to react. I simple grabbed him by the collar, picked him up and used both hands to launch him into the tree. The leader went down next. He put up his hands in the defensive pose after dropping his gun, so I just pushed him aside and walked right up to the sheriff. By this point, the rain was coming down hard and thunder was the constant drumroll to my actions.
“You know, I have a habit of just moving on after being in a town for a while, but never have I gotten a ‘beat it’ like I’ve gotten here. Hanging is nothing new to me, but usually the law man is a pretty understanding guy. You might want to rethink your policies regarding other species.” I turned toward the crowd who had gone silent and said, “Sorry to have made such a ruckus, folks. I’ll be heading out now.”
With that, I left town, another stop gone awry on the long road I’ve been traveling for what seems like a lifetime. Someone once asked me why I travel. Don’t I have a family or something to be getting home to? All I said was that that was the reason I travel and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.












