Radley's Home for Horny Monsters by Annabelle Hawthorne (best novels for teenagers .TXT) 📗

He was going to make screw ups and have rough days. It was a fact of life, everybody had them. However, it mattered more how he spent his time between those awful moments, because that was where he would find those happy, peaceful hours, making memories that would become more precious to him than gold. Lying there in bed, listening to the goblin next to him breathing softly, he couldn’t help but feel a little blessed to be surrounded by such magical creatures.

“You sure do keep my life interesting,” he whispered. Tink gently bit his arm, and he smiled. She shifted her body, scooting up closer to his face. Her hair smelled of lavender, and her skin was soft to the touch. Letting his body relax, he took in the scent of the house itself, allowing its smells to permeate his soul and guide him to sleep.

The world faded away, his body sinking into nothingness while sleep claimed him. Drifting off into the waiting darkness, one more scent tickled his nose, suddenly there and gone, like a match struck and then blown out.

It smelled of sulfur.

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Mike’s soul floated, hiding just beneath his skin, dreading the moment that his eyes would open, streaming reality in high definition through his very being. It wasn’t that he was afraid to face the morning, but rather that he was afraid of how much pain he would be in upon awakening.

The morning before, his whole being had been in agony. Between fucking Jenny out of Beth and then carrying Beth home, he wondered if his body would decide to be tired or sore instead. How does a body decide how miserable to make its owner anyway? Mike contemplated his day from behind closed eyes, wondering if he could trick Tink into bringing him food to eat while he stayed in bed. She didn’t know how to cook and he was fairly certain the fridge was nearly empty.

Shit. He also needed to feed the Mandragora. He pictured those vines, creeping along the side of the house, searching for fresh meat. With the events of yesterday, it had been forgotten, but it needed to be a priority today. How much meat did a magical plant need? He saw Emily in his mind, tossing a couple of pounds of beef on the lawn. The plant was probably far hungrier after so many months without food. Or maybe it had taken to eating strays that happened onto the lawn?

Ugh. Eyes open, he silently cursed the light that was already crossing the floor of his room. Pushing the blankets away, he saw that Tink had already left. Braced for the worst, he sat up in bed, ready for the inevitable checklist of agonies to pile up.

Except nothing happened. Puzzled, he rolled his shoulders around, tilted his head back and forth, and wiggled his legs. He felt absolutely fine.

“What the fuck?” He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Rising, he got out of bed and walked to the toilet, took a leak, and popped into the bathroom. The huge bath was empty.

“Hey, Naia.” He sat on the edge of the tub, waiting for the faucet to turn on. Strangely, the tub remained silent. “Hello?” he called, leaning in, waiting for her to appear. He sat this way for several minutes, surprised that she didn’t answer. Shaking his head, he figured he would go out to the garden and see what she was up to. He went to put on clothes and was surprised to find they had been put back in his bag. Tink must have cleaned up after him last night.

Walking down the hallway, he was surprised at how quiet the house was. At the top of the stairs, he stopped to stare at the wardrobe at the other end of the hall, its silver handle gleaming, begging to be opened.

“Feed the Mandragora, feed the Mandragora,” he muttered, walking downstairs. In the kitchen, his laptop was on the table, but there was no sign of Tink. After making himself a quick breakfast of Eggos and coffee, he turned his laptop on, then clicked on his web browser.

Nothing happened. Frowning, he tried again, but the program still wouldn’t open. He rebooted his computer, then ate his syrup-soaked Eggos, slammed his coffee and refilled his mug while he waited. His computer screen came back on, but it wouldn’t display anything other than a blue screen.

“What the fuck?” Either it had contracted a massive virus, or was experiencing hardware failure. Swearing to himself, he wondered if Tink had been screwing around on his laptop this morning. “Tink? Hey, Tink!” Wandering from room to room, he saw no sign of the goblin. In fact, everything was in perfect order, the mess from yesterday’s fight all cleaned up as if it hadn’t even happened.

“Strange.” After casting a suspicious glance at the living room, Mike walked out into the garden and stopped in his tracks. Naia’s fountain was caked in dirt and mud again, as if he had never cleaned it out. Running up to the edge, all he could think was that, somehow, the magic had been cut off from her spring again.

“Shit, shit, shit!” He shoved his way into the garage and maneuvered through the boxes to get to the work bench. After grabbing supplies, he ran back outside. “Tink! Abella! Help!”

Kneeling in the fountain, he frantically scrubbed at the caked mud, trying to remember where he had seen the water flowing from. “Naia! Naia, are you in there?”

As he scooped up dirt, he saw the stony figure hidden behind the bushes. “Abella! Abella, come help me!”

She didn’t move. Tossing his trowel aside, Mike vaulted the lip of the fountain. “Abella, the fountain is...”

Abella was wrapped in the vines of the Mandragora, perfectly still. Mike grabbed the vines and tore at them. “Oh shit, Abella!” It only took him a minute to clear the vines away. He pressed his face to hers, hoping