What you are about to read was the first piece of writing that I ever did.I wrote it two years ago, and I intended it to be a parody of the ‘fantasy’ genre. It was going to be a novel, and I had a lot of  great plans for it, then, I decided to slow down and practice writing short stories before moving on to something as magnificent and as time-consuming as a novel. Now, however, I don’t think I’m ever going to finish this.

I give you, a short lived idea of mine.

Your feedback, as usual, is extremely valuable to me.


The Arochnymous River flowed silently into a cave. The cave did not have a name. The sun was beginning to set. At this time, a boy stood, facing the setting sun. The boy had brown hair and blue eyes. He was wearing an old, green robe, given to him by his uncle. Beside him, was a strange creature; the creature was four-legged and was slightly smaller than a one year old baby. The creature had a beak resembling a duck-bill. In those parts, the creature was known as an Igcknock. The boy called it ‘Grogisk’, meaning ‘lazybones’.

The boy’s name was Jezrobeel.

“O God,” The boy lamented, “Why do I have to be called Jezrobeel?”

The Author, who had an IQ of 180, replied, “Because I wrote so.”

“Are you really God?” Jezrobeel wondered.

“To you, I am.” The Author replied.

“How come?”

“Well, dummy, I created you and your whole world, didn’t I?” The Mighty Author was getting frustrated. “But I shall make special allowances for you; you can call me ‘The Author’, if you want to.”

“Okay, Author, why can’t I be called Ben or something like that?”

“Dude, wake up!” The Author replied, “This is a fantasy, and in a fantasy, people are not given normal names like Ben, Paul, Tom, etc.”

“But, just think about it, naming me Ben will save you so much time. You won’t have to type Jezrobeel, which is really long.” Jezrobeel said.

The Author had to agree, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

The boy’s name was Ben.

The name Ben wasn’t a very common one in the town of GizlKarth, infact, it wasn’t very common anywhere on NackNick, or anywhere else, for that matter. Ben was in a complicated love-hate relationship with his name. This was because his friends and enemies always teased him with it. Of course, his friends and enemies, having very common names like AungerStolmph and GhurthKond did not understand the beauty of the name ‘Ben’.

Ben was a perfectly ordinary young man who lived with his perfectly ordinary uncle; his father had died in the War of Lasimoan and his uncle was now the ‘leader’ of their family. Ben did not go to school because everything was taught to him by a tutor at home. (In the planet of NackNick, only those who could not afford a private tutor went to school). Ben’s uncle, NahdGab, who was the Deputy Chief, or PatLop, of GilzKarth, was a very rich man; he felt that it was his duty to take care of his sister, Nereytis (Ben’s mother), but he did not like Ben too much. Ben did not care much for his uncle either.

NadhGab did not publicly advertise his dislike for Ben (Even though he disliked Ben, he liked his sister very much). Instead, Ben was denied some comforts. He was not given new clothes to wear, and he had to sleep on the floor. Nereytis worked in the Unified Alchemy Research Department of NackNick, and was stationed in EmDom, an island in the Velris Ocean. She had not seen Ben for about three years and did not know of Ben’s mistreatment.

Ben, in short, was living in Hell.

Ben had a doubt, “You only go to Hell after you are dead; so how can I be ‘living in hell’?”

“That was a figure of speech, you IDIOT!” The All-Knowing Author yelled.

Ben remained silent.

That afternoon, Ben was standing near the Arochnymous River (which flowed silently into a cave, without showing the slightest bit of respect towards Ben), facing the setting sun.

Ben absent-mindedly picked up a particularly smooth stone and threw it into the River.

The River did not like being hit by the stone and it splashed in protest.

The stone did not like being thrown into the River, so it went and hit a crocodile under the water.

The crocodile did not like being hit by the stone, so it came up and ate Grogisk without showing the slightest bit of respect towards Ben, who, I remind you, was standing near the Arochnymous River, facing the setting sun.

After three seconds, Ben called out, “Grogisk, come, let’s go.”

At that moment, Grogisk was making his way down the crocodile’s oesophagus without showing the slightest bit of respect towards Ben, who was walking home, having convinced himself that Grogisk would eventually turn up.

An Animal Rights Activist who had watched the whole scene came to the conclusion that the stone was responsible for the death of Grogisk because the stone had offended two of the entities involved in ‘the poor animal’s’ death, whereas the boy had offended only one entity, namely, the stone.

The stone was arrested, found guilty, and imprisoned for life. It was sent to The Most Horrendous Prison of GizlKarth, where it was allotted a Maximum Security Cell. The stone went on to win ‘The Most Goodest Inmate of The Most Horrendous Prison of GizlKarth Award’ for one hundred and fifty consecutive years. In the one hundred and fifty-first year, it lost to a doughnut.

When Ben reached home, he heard two voices.

“I AM PERFECTLY SANE, THANK YOU!” Ben yelled at The Author.

One of those voices belonged to his uncle, the other belonged to someone he did not know.

“… and then they created a Horse-Man.” said NahdGab drunkenly to a man who was examining his fingernails and yawning at the same time.

At that moment, Ben entered the living room.

{The Reader will undoubtedly have to excuse me for not giving detailed descriptions of the house. Whether the carpet on which NahdGab was resting his feet was made of pure cotton, exotic fibres, or sharp steel spikes has no bearing whatsoever on the plot. The Reader is encouraged to use his/her imagination. Sorry for the inconvenience}

The stranger put on his mask hurriedly, and said, in his most evil voice “The Time Is Ripe.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s ripe…” said NahdGab looking fondly at the basket of apples on the table before them.

The stranger calmly picked up his sword from the chair on which he had been sitting, and pointed it at NahdGab’s chest.

At this stage, it would be wise to let the reader know that the stranger was actually a thief who had suddenly turned up, pointed his sword at NadhGab’s chest and demanded that he (NahdGab) give him (the thief, who does not wish to be named) everything that he (NahdGab) owned. NahdGab had cleverly stalled the thief by telling him that Ben, his nephew, had to sign all documents indicating a transfer of property for the aforementioned ‘transfer’ to be legal, but as the thief could obviously see, Ben was not at home right then, and God(Don’t look at me!) knew when he would come back, so thief either had to wait for Ben to come back or he could go home and come back another day, preferably, the next Saturday.

The thief had decided to wait.

NahdGab had planned to intoxicate the thief by offering him the finest bottle of beer from his cellar, but it had turned out that the thief did not drink. NahdGab did not want to waste his finest bottle of beer, and hence, he had drunk the whole bottle himself.

As a result, Nahdgab now thought that the thief’s sword was some sort of fashionable contraption which the thief would use to eat. Since his last remark was about apples, Nahdgab reasoned that the thief wanted an apple. Following this line of reasoning, he promptly picked up an apple from the basket and skewered it on the sword.

The thief swore.

Ben, who had, in that interval of time, managed to, as they say, muster up some courage, stammered, “Wh-Who are you?”

The thief, who had to stop swearing because of Ben’s interruption, took a small white card from his pocket, and gave it to Ben. As soon as the card was in Ben’s hand, the thief continued swearing.

Ben looked at the card. It had the following printed on it:

UMBEL SPADIX (Name changed to protect identity)



“What does ‘larcenist’ mean, exactly?” Ben asked Umbel, who was removing the apples skewered on his sword “Isn’t that like, thief?”

Umbel’s head appeared to wobble on his neck, as a reply.

“Was that a yes or a no?”

Umbel pointed his sword at Ben, “This house has an invisible safe, doesn’t it? Open it!” he shouted.

“It’s always open.” Ben replied, walking backwards, trying to get to the door.

“Is that a sword, good sir?” Nahdgab said, “Might I borrow it for a moment? You see, this apple seems to be too much for my old teeth.”

Umbel withdrew his sword and before Ben could take another step backwards, placed it on Ben’s throat, stepping behind him. “Where is it?” he said, gritting his teeth.

“You’re stepping on it.”

Umbel moved to the left, dragging Ben along with him. “Make it visible.”

“I can’t do that. Only he knows the password.” Ben pointed to his uncle.

“Hey! Hey! Nahdgab!” Umbel yelled.

Nahdgab turned and looked at him.

“Tell me the password to your invisible safe; we wouldn’t want your nephew’s blood staining the carpet, would we?”

A vein throbbed in Nahdgab’s neck, “Not the carpet!” he yelled, “Sthroodel!”

A rectangular area in carpet changed colour from red to metallic grey. This area became hollow, and was pushed into the floor so that it was about a foot below the carpet.

“It’s empty!” Umbel yelled.

“Look” Ben said, as calmly as he could, “What do you want?”

“Documents! Your uncle told me that you had to come home and sign some documents so that I could own his property legally.”

“And you believed him?”

“He was lying about the documents?”

“No, but he WAS lying about ME having to sign them.”

“Where are those documents, then?”

“In his bank.” Ben walked towards the door, “I’ll go and get them, wait.”

“I’m not going to be fooled twice.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Ben pleaded, “I just want to keep myself alive.” He continued walking towards the door.

Umbel walked forward and grabbed Ben by his collar, “You think the bank will allow you just walk in and take those documents?”

“I can forge his signature. There’s nothing to it, just a G with an N inside it.” Ben said contemptuously.

“I still don’t believe you.” Umbel said, and Ben turned around to face him. Umbel continued “My tutor taught me a little magic, you know, when I was little.”

“Why don’t you use it, then?”

“I don’t like using it.” Drops of sweat had appeared on Umbel’s forehead, “It makes my head hurt.” His grip on Ben’s robe weakened.

Ben sensed an opportunity, and bit Umbel’s hand as hard as he could. Umbel yelled, and Ben sprinted towards the door.


Ben grabbed the handle of the door and opened it.

Umbel closed his eyes, formed a clear picture in his head of what he wanted to happen to Ben and murmured a few words. When he opened his eyes, Ben was nowhere to be seen.

Then the house started vibrating.

“Darn.” He said

Ben continued running and looked back, expecting to see Umbel chasing him, then he stopped. A mixture of relief and shock washed down over him.

The house was nowhere to be seen.