The Cobbler and His Helpers

While watching a video from Neil Gaiman on writing he gave some homework, to write a fairy tale but with a twist. I want to write a handful of stories, kind of twisted/different fairytales.

The wind blew gently in the evening air, and the shingles of the roof lifted a little with the breeze. Inside, the fire emitted in the fireplace as he stood there, staying warm but leaning an elbow on the lip. His head rested in the crook of his arm. A sigh escaped his lips as he stood and turned. Looking at the box of supplies that had been left on his doorstep he started taking the contents out and sorting them. He started placing the items in an order, placing the soles and heels next to each other. Next to that was the counter and welt with the toe cap next. He placed the shaft, cuff, and eyelets next and lastly placed the laces last. 

With another sigh, he sat at his workstation and opened his toolbox. Starting from left to right he got to work. Gingerly and sometimes shakingly piecing the pieces together one after another. After about an hour he had finished the first one, one boot done. The cobbler wiped his brow with a rag and took a deep breath, looking at his pocket watch, it was late, but he had to continue. Grabbing the next sole he started the process again, stopping now and again to take a deep breath and let his thoughts catch up with him. He would shake out of this stupor and get back to the process, this happened a few times. The second shoe took an hour and a half, he placed it next to the other completed shoe, now done with one right and one left. He stared at them as if in a bit of a trance, getting lost in his thoughts again. He shook his head and looked towards the floor. Without looking to his pocket watch he decided it was time to retire. Getting up he went up the stairs to his room. As he lay in bed, he closed his eyes and pleaded in his mind for relief and aid in his situation. 

An hour later, while he was asleep, from the ashes of the fire came a rustling. Then rustling turned into a figure, a small 6-inch figure stepped out of the shadows and into the room, only being lit by the moonlight in the window on a clear night. From the bottom of the creature to the top of his hat he stood the full 6 inches, removing his hat to remove the soot from the fireplace he was now two inches shorter. He looked around quietly to make sure no human was around. Seeing no one was around he placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled, a whistle so loud only a dog would be able to hear but no others would. As he did, 4 other creatures of the same size came out from the soot, one of them peeking around to make sure it was safe, a little scared. The first creature came to him and pulled him out from the fireplace into the room giving him a look of confidence, letting him know it was ok, but this did not stop him from feeling scared, his eyes still darting back and forth in caution. 

The first creature, known as gnomes, was the leader of this band of fellows. He took charge, pointing to the workbench and the piles of parts the cobbler had left behind for the next day. Without much explanation they knew what they needed to do, this was their duty, and they knew they had to get the job done as Siliniez requested. They quickly got to work, there were 8 sets of items left, enough for 4 total pairs of shoes. The leader went to the bottom of the stairs and took guard, making sure if any movement from upstairs happened he would alert the rest. Quickly, quietly, and gingerly the gnomes got to work. Three of them had finished in 10 minutes while the worried gnome had only gotten partially done as he had been taking a lot of time to look around and make sure they were not seen. With a shake of his head, the lead gnome went over and tapped him, pointing to the stairs, conveying he wanted him to take the watch, and he would finish his work. 

The lead gnome completed the work, and they all worked hard and fast. The sooner they could finish the sooner they could get back undetected. No more than 30 minutes later all four pairs of boots had been completed. Looking at their craftsmanship and the cobblers they all nodded in agreement while the scared gnome kept watching nervously. They took all five pairs of boots and put them into the box. They hugged each other as they always do at a job well done and left as they appeared, walking into the soot of the fireplace, the lead gnome walking to the worried gnome and wrapping his arm around his shoulder, guiding him back into the fireplace and with that, they were gone. 

The morning came, the sun coming through the blinds, the cobbler sat up in a hurry. Not knowing when his customer was going to pick up the completed shoes he had not finished because they had just been dropped at his doorstep late the night before, no knock, no note, nothing, but he knew it had to get done, so much was on the line. Still, in his nightgown, he ran downstairs to get to work, rushing down he found his workstation was cleared. Blinking, in a panic he looked around more, but he did not see the piles of parts as well as the pair of shoes he had finished. His heart pounded and his eyes widened, breathing deeply as if having a heart attack. He ran to the door and noticed it was still locked from the night before. Turning, he rested his back on the door in a panic and looked around sharply, breathing still hard, his eyes darting back and forth until he saw it. The box. He blinked some more and went towards the box, to find five finished pairs of shoes. He took one out, inspected it, looked around the room then back at the shoe. Tossing it aside he grabbed another one, doing the same, looking around the room in shock and then back at the shoe. He did this until he had inspected all ten shoes and then looked at them all on the floor where he deposited them. 

In pure confusion, he just simply picked all the shoes back up and placed them into the box. Lifting the box he stared in the box and took one last look around the room again quizzically, then shaking his stupor he moved to his front door, unlocked it, and placed the box of shoes on the doorstep exactly where they were left when the box was dropped off the night before, still in his nightgown he peeked his head out looking to the left and right of the streets, seeing nothing, the streets were not bustling as they once were. Again, a small sigh escaped as he pulled his head in, closed the door, and locked it. He sat on his workbench and tried to figure out what happened, racking his brain with thoughts, shaking each one away. The impossible was possible. What had happened? Who were the shoes for? Who dropped them off? 

About every half an hour he would unlock and open the front door or peek out his window to check on the box, seeing it was still there. Had made his way to the kitchen and made himself some toast without butter, moving back to his workbench he ate it and let his mind wander some more. It was getting too much, after his toast he grabbed a book and sat in his chair, and read, continuing the door and window check every hour now, shoes were still there. After a few hours of this, he looked at his pocket watch and noticed it was now 8 PM. With one last peek out the window, seeing the box still there, he made his way up the stairs and to bed. After a bit of his mind wandering, he finally closed his eyes and welcomed the Dream King. 

Early morning, he woke, throwing on his robe he ran down the stairs and stopped at the window for a moment, looking to his porch, and quirked his brow a bit. He stumbled to the door and unlocked it swinging it open to find a bigger box outside, quickly dragging it inside and peering left to right, still no movement and no hint of who dropped it off. He quickly brought it to his workstation and looked inside. Parts of shoes are just as before, but more. Like before he took out all the pieces and separated them into their piles, counting enough parts for 50 pairs of shoes. He sat back in his chair and looked at all the pieces for a moment. In a bit of a daze, he got up, went into the kitchen, and started his gas stove to boil some water for his coffee, and came back to the bench, hands on his hips he looked at all the pieces in a bit of shock and awe. Shaking out of his stupor he sat and without hesitation started getting to work. After about 20 minutes and a half into a shoe, his water started boiling, and it boiled for another 5 minutes before he got up and turned off the stove, moving the pot to an empty burner. He grabbed a cup and put some ground coffee in it and poured water on top, leaving it on the table in the kitchen he went back to work. 

Working hard and focused on his first shoe, he was in a trance, nothing else mattered around him. He finally finished one shoe and set it down, a bit of a sigh and a shiver came across him, he looked to his fireplace and noticed he had not started his morning fire. Grabbing some logs, he placed them down and leaned down with some newspaper and started the fire. Kneeling for just a moment he stared at the fire, as it got fuller, he stood and warmed his hands and turned to get back to work. He dug in and grabbed another set, working diligently, and after 40 minutes had another boot done, now officially having one pair of the 50 done. He sat back for a moment and remembered his coffee, getting up he moved to the kitchen and took a sip of the coffee, swished it around in his mouth for a moment, and spit it out in the sink. Cold. He dumped the whole cup and grabbed a piece of bread without toasting it and started eating it. As he ate, he moved back into the main room and looked at the task at hand. Finishing the piece of bread, he wiped his hands on his robe and got back to work. 

Pushing on, he kept working, now with 5 complete pairs of boots completed he stopped for a moment and looked at his pocket watch, it was now 6 PM. He looked back quickly out his window and then got back to work. His stomach grumbled but he pushed through. After finishing one and a half more pair he could not take it anymore, he ran up the stairs to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. Resting his head for a moment, on his arm on the seat he sighed and leaned back. He had pushed himself too far on just a piece of bread and cold coffee. After that moment he did not remember much, his eyes closed, and his last thoughts were “Please help me…” 

After a few hours, the fire fled and was embers, and just as the night before last there was movement, and again the leader and his crew came out of the shadows, minus one. The fearful gnome had stayed behind. They all moved to the bench and evaluated the work, looking it over, one looked to the leader, eyes wide, and shook his head. It was too much; they could not finish this. He nodded in agreement and thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. With gestures, he communicated quietly for them to start working and put up one finger as being one moment, and he scurried off back into the embers and disappeared. The three gnomes looked at one another and sighed, starting to work as commanded. 

They each had just finished a pair of shoes when the sound of wind came through the fireplace, they looked back and noticed their leader coming. They put down their work and turned to face him, only to see right behind him, 26 more gnomes following. The lead gnome tapped his wrist, communicating the need to hurry. The gnomes lined the room and started passing pieces out and in the form of an a*sembly line, they began constructing the shoes. In a quick two hours, all 50 pairs were completed. The lead gnome instructed traffic as he guided gnomes to cleaning and putting everything back where it was and having some put the shoes back in the box neatly. Once completed with their tasks and tidying they disappeared into the shadows of the fireplace. 

The moon left and the sun rose, and the cobbler stirred a bit, scrunched in a ball in the middle of his bathroom floor. Slowly moving he sat up quickly and slightly hit his head on the sink. Hand on the head he fully stood and gingerly moved downstairs. Hand still on the head he looked around, blinking, he noticed again all the scraps were not there. Seeing the box on his workbench again he moved towards it and peered inside. Removing his hand from his head he took a completed shoe in each hand and looked them over. Placing them back in the box where they were, he noticed the neatly stacked shoes. Picking up the box he took it to the front door, leaning on his knee as he unlocked the front door and opened it, placing the shoes on the porch. Closing the door, he locked it, and as he locked it, he noticed some dirt and something green and fuzzy on his hand. He picked it from between the crevices of his fingers and placed it on his workbench. In a bit of a daze, he just moved up the stairs, peering out the window as he moved up, seeing the box still there. He moved up the stairs and into the bathroom, drawing himself a bath. Once it was half full, he disrobed and slid into the bath. Just sitting, his head leaned back in the tub, staring at the ceiling, he slid slowly into the tub, holding his breath. 

He did not pop up, he sat under the water, opened his eyes, and stared at the ceiling, continuing to hold his breath as he just sat and stared. His breathing started becoming heavier and deeper, yet he still did not budge. His hands moved to the side of the tub, gripping tightly, and holding himself under. He blinked as he held his breath, cheeks puffing out, refusing to breathe, he closed his eyes, and even though the water could feel the tears dropping. Squinting he struggled to hold himself in the tub, one hand tapping hard on the side, fighting to pull himself up, but refusing to. He could feel his heart pounding, he opened his eyes and saw her face. With a gasp of air, he pulled himself up and reached out for her, only to find she was not there. Placing his face in his hands he wept, heart still pounding, sliding his hands from his face he gripped his hair and pulled letting out a primal scream. He laid back for just a moment more before he stood and stepped out of the tub, drying off and draining the tub he slid back into another house robe. 

After exiting the bathroom, he made his way downstairs, he walked past the window, and after a few steps, stepped backward, looking out the window again. The box was gone. He ran to the door and opened it quickly and stepped out in just his robe, looking left to right, streets still abandoned, houses covered up, no sign of life. Stepping back into the house he closed and locked it. As he took a step towards the kitchen, he felt something stuck under his foot. Placing his foot on his knee and leaning on the doorway he picked at it, pulling it up. It was a bigger piece of green dirt. Placing it in his hand, he set his foot down and stayed leaning on the doorway, looking at it closer, his upper body leaning towards his hand, he could tell it was moss. Stepping over to the bench he compared it to the green stuff he had found earlier in his hand, and it was the same stuff. Moss, where did this come from? The closest forest is 20 miles away. Setting both pieces of moss down he made his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge he pulled out a small sardine from a jar and ate it, leaning down a little further he found one last pierogi. Grabbing it he took a bite and ate half of it as he stood and closed the fridge. Popping the rest of it in his mouth he chewed as he moved back into the common area. 

Moving to his bench he sat and just stared at the moss, tilting his head a bit when *THUD* he heard a pound on the door. In alert he found himself dropping to the ground, hands above his head and looking towards the door. Eyes wide he pleaded over and over in his head “No, no not now, no.” Nothing. After a moment of lying there, he slowly got up to his knees and crawled to the door, briefly peering under the doorway he noticed a dark shadow. The dark shadow was long, and he could not make out any shapes. Slowly pulling himself up he unlocked and opened the door. It was another box, about the same size as the last. Peering out again, he saw nothing to his left or right; with his foot he slid the box inside; it was much lighter than the last one he noticed. Picking it up with ease he moved it to the workbench and opened it. Inside it was different, there were no shoe parts. Pulling out fabric he found material. Pulling at the material he investigated it, looking closer he sat and looked it over. Rubbing his fingers through the material, it felt familiar. Setting it down he ran upstairs and into the bedroom, digging through the wardrobe he found a pair of pants, feeling them, he ran downstairs with them in hand still feeling them with one hand, he grabbed the material and felt it, he was correct. This was a box of pants. The best he could he pulled all the pieces out and matched them up. From what he could tell he had a pile of the crotch, left and right legs. 

Sitting for a moment he pondered, and then ran upstairs, digging in the closet he came running back downstairs with a box. Opening it to reveal an assortment of sewing tools and materials. Running his hands over the tools for a moment he just stared, his mind wandering, remembering a better time, a time with his wife, a small tear rolled down his face as he sat straight up. He looked over the tools and the materials he had not ever seen before. Closing his eyes, he placed his hands on the needle and string, trying to remember, trying to picture. It came to him; he remembered watching his wife teach their daughter at age 6 how to sew. Closing his eyes tighter he tried to focus on this memory, squeezing his expression tighter. Picking up a little bit of the blurry memory he shook from it slightly. Taking a sigh, he grabbed the needle and thread and *POKE* the needle poked his finger. Dropping the needle, he instantly put his finger in his mouth, making a face. Suckling, slightly he removed his finger from his mouth and looked at it momentarily. 

Picking the needle back up he cautiously tried to thread it, sticking his tongue out and squinting with one eye, as if it were going to help. It did, the string entered the eye of the needle, and he tied it off. Picking up the crotch he sewed the front and rear together, very slowly and carefully. After finishing one pair of pants, he lifted them and looked them over. They were not pretty but they were done, the best he could do. Setting them aside he looked at the piles of material and noticed he had a lot to go, he could not even count how many it would make. Sliding in his pocket watch out he assembles the time. It had taken him 2 hours to finish just one pair. 

Looking at the piles he counted with his eyes and figured there were about 50 pairs that would be made in total, With a soft sigh, he stood and went into the kitchen, opening the fridge he grabbed another couple of sardines and ate them as he moved back into the main room and to the workbench. Eyeing the fabric, he rotated his neck with a *POP* and grabbing the needle and thread, started again, this time moving a little faster, finishing his second pair in an hour and a half. Without stopping he kept moving. Four hours later he finished three more pairs, looking outside the moon fully shown now, pulling out his timepiece he noticed the time and decided it should be good to retire, the work would get sloppier and sloppier as he stayed up longer. Instead of moving upstairs though he moved to the couch in the room over from his work area and laid on the couch, pulling the wool blanket from the back of the couch over himself to stay warm. Staring at the ceiling he got lost in his thoughts and only after a few minutes his eyes were heavy, and he was asleep. 

Just as the last couple of nights, from the soot, came the lead gnome, peering around he saw no signs of life and moved in further, waving the rest on. The normal four came, again without the worry gnome. They looked around to see no new shoe parts, but only fabric in multiple piles. The lead gnome stepped forward, hands-on hips his eyes scanned over all the material, and with his face tight he shook his head. Looking at one of the other gnomes, he pointed and snapped, beaconing the gnome, but before he could give his commands nonverbally the man shot up at the sound and looked over the back of the couch in the direction of the sound. The room was pitch black, the gnomes easily broke and hid in the shadows as if playing a game of hide and look for. The man squinted his eyes in hopes they would adjust to the darkness, and he would see what that sound was, but since smoke was leaving his fireplace and a few coals were still hot, he assumed it was just a pop of the fire dying. A shake of his head and he laid back down, pulling the blanket tight and he was out again within moments. 

The gnomes stayed put until the sign would come, the lead gnome made his way out of the shadows and peered around, moving to the middle of the room he waved his arm as a sign to join him and he moved to a corner of the room where they would be harder to spot, three of them joined, he counted to himself, missing one, he looked around the room in shock and stepped towards the light to see if he could see anything when he received a tap on his shoulder. Turning abruptly, he saw the fourth gnome, laughing but covering his mouth so no sound would escape, he had been hiding in that corner and they could not even see him. A bit of a scowl of disapproval on his face as the other gnomes started to follow with the laughing, again quietly but as soon as they noticed his look, they all stopped including the fourth gnome.  

With his finger, the lead gnome darted it at number four and started communicating quickly as if he were yelling at the gnome in a sort of sign language but more like Pictionary. The fourth gnome frowned and hustled back into the fireplace soot and disappeared. The other three stood there, kicking their feet, looking at the ground, afraid to look up, with a slight very small clear of his throat they all buckled up and stood straight, hands behind their back, he nodded in approval. The lead gnome then looked out the window, to catch the moon halfway down, the day was coming nearer. He looked at the piles of fabrics and moved towards it, the other three gnomes in tow. As he picked up a piece of fabric *WHOOSH* it fluttered as if some wind caught it. Then *WHOOSH* the other direction. He smiled and set it down, turning around to notice forty pixies hovering. He smiled and pointed towards the pant fabric but before he let them loose, he turned towards the other room with the back of the couch facing them and pointed in that direction and up. 

A couple of the pixies nodded and flew over that way, halting to hover over the man asleep on the couch. Closing their eyes, they shook themselves a bit, semi-violently. As they did little specs of dust fell from their wings and landed over each eye as they were closed. A small snore escaped the man as he turned and fell into a deeper sleep due to the dust, and he dreamed, the most beautiful dream, one that he has not had in ages. With their mission complete the two pixies joined the rest, and with an approving nod from the lead gnome, the pixies got to work on the pants, picking them up in midair and getting to work. As one pixie would hold a piece of fabric, another would hold another piece of fabric close to it, where it would attach, in midair, there was a pair of pants but not sewn together, and with a movement along the seems a couple of other pixies flew along and with their breath, were sealing the fabrics together. In less than one minute, the pair of pants was complete. As the others had seen what was being done, they joined suits, now making 5 pairs of pants at a time. The pixies moved quicker and quicker, and as they finished a pair, the five gnomes would grab the completed pants, fold them up, and put them back into the box. Ten minutes from when they started, the pixies were done, and a couple of more minutes later the gnomes finished putting the pants away nicely back in the box they came from. With yet another approving nod at their finished work now he turned and pointed back at that dark portal that only one could dream of finding in the fireplace and all the pixies and gnomes made their way back into the shadows, with the lead gnome being last as usual. 

The sun started peering through the curtains, the man was halfway off the couch, blanket completely wrapped on the floor, a smile on his face from ear to ear, his breathing slowly escaping his lips and nose. With one deep sigh his eyes opened, the smile still on his face, sunbathing his face, causing his eyes to squint. Still, with a smile on his face, he sat up, slowly rubbing his eyes. Pushing himself up now he moved to his workbench, a bit of a stupor from just getting up he looked around and noticed his piles of fabric were gone. Closing his eyes, he rubbed again, opening to take another look, seeing the piles still gone he blinked. He remembered the earlier times this happened the shoes would end up in the box. His eyes scanned again to find the box under his workbench, pulling the box out he opened it to find folded pairs of pants. Pulling them out one by one he inspected some of the work much better than he would have ever done. He pulled all the pants out and counted to 50. 

Standing he looked around, hands on his hips, a very perplexed look on his face. Leaning down he started placing the pants back into the box, but his focus was still around the room, looking left to right. Placing the last pair of pants in the box, he closed it. Picking it up he moved to the front door and unlocked it, locked it, then unlocked it again, making sure it was locked overnight. Slowly pulling the door open, the box leaning on his knee, he moved with the door and opened it all the way, placing the box on the porch. Again, peering his head outside looking again left to right, seeing the same as before, no change, empty streets. Pulling himself back in, he closed the door and locked it, leaning against the door, his face returned to perplexation. Hand on the wall stabilizing him as he made his way into the kitchen, hugging along the wall he made his way to the fridge, opening it he peered inside.  

Taking another sardine, he popped it into his mouth and ate it. Grabbing for another one he found nothing but the juice they sat in. A bit of a frown he pulled the jar out and dumped the juice down the sink, placing the container in the sink. Moving to the counter he tore himself off a piece of exposed bread and crunched on it. Moving to the main room he moved to the stairs and looked out the window, seeing the box was still there closed. Just to double-check he went to the front door, unlocked it, and stepped out, leaning down, he looked left to right. Déjà vu. Opening the box slightly he peeked in, it was still completed pairs of pants. Closing it back up tight he made his way back inside and locked the door. Making his way up the stairs, pausing to peer out the window for a second to verify for the third time the box was still there. Seeing that it was he continued his way up the stairs and into the bathroom, undressing and starting the shower. He sat on the side of the tub with his head in his hands as the water ran. 

Standing he stepped into the tub, letting the water engulf him, slowly turning to get his whole self. Grabbing the small bar of soap, he lathered his whole body, including his face and his hair. After covering every inch with soap still in hand he turned under the water, releasing the soap and letting it fall into the tub. He scrubbed with his nails along his body, gently scrubbed his face, and dug his nails deeper into his hair and scrubbing. Rinsing his whole body still and making sure there were no more suds, he turned the water off once he was able to confirm this. Stepping onto the rug he let the water drip. Leaning down to grab the towel off the floor he wrapped it around himself and dried off. Tossing it back to the floor he made his way into his bedroom where he put on a fresh set of clothes. 

After sliding on his final sock he moved downstairs, his eyes catching the outside of the window as he took two more steps, he took the two steps back and looked out the window fully, eyes wide he ran to the door, unlocking it, he threw it open and saw nothing. There was no box of pants. He stepped inside and closed and locked the door. His eyes caught something. From the corner of his eye, he saw something in the living room next to the couch. Moving slowly into the living area he looked around, from left to right, then focused on what he had glimpsed. Moving closer he saw it was a crate. His hand moved to the crate and felt it. Studying it with his eyes and touching he kneeled. The box was up to his knees and as long as his feet to his torso. Kneeling, with both hands, he tried to lift the lid, but it gave easily. Sliding the lid off completely he leaned forward and peered inside. Right away he could tell, it was not shoe pieces or fabric. Reaching inside he started feeling around, feeling metal and wood. Peering closer, eyes squinting in focus, he could see long metal barrels and wooden stocks and then he knew. They were guns. Parted and pieced guns. Reaching a little deeper he felt a warm rush leave his palm as he pulled it back quickly to find a cut had appeared. 

Peering inside and with his other hand, he slowly moved pieces out of the way to find mixed within were knives, assuming these were to go at the end of the guns as bayonets. Grasping his now cut palm with his free hand he stood and just stared into the box, tears now left his eyes. He lowered his head, and the tears flowed freely, falling to his knees he cried, staring now up into the heavens, he stood quickly and ran to his workbench. Opening a drawer, he grabbed a pistol and ran outside to the middle of the street. Crying, he fell to his knees again and put the gun to his temple. Eyes flowing with tears, he stared at the sky, yelling, and screaming, threatening he would do it verbally, hands shaking, making the gun barrel wobble. With a scream he pointed the gun to the sky and pulled the trigger, releasing a bullet into the air. The sound of the gunshot echoed down the empty streets. Sobbing some more, his hands fell to his side. Defeated, he stood up and moved back into the house, closing the door, and locking it and then placing the gun back in the drawer. He moved back into the area with the box, and he kicked it slightly, staring inside, eyes bloodshot. Feeling a tad weak he sat on the couch and stared at the box for a few moments, that was the last thing he remembered before he passed out, slumping onto the couch slowly as he lost consciousness. 

The sun was still out as he lay there, beating on his face. He lay there, breaths escaping slowly, slight wheezing as he struggled to breathe in his sleep. The day became night, and he still lay there. As before the small pack of gnomes made their way from the shadows of the fireplace, peering around, they made their way to the box, seeing the human man so close, the lead gnome shooed the others away, having them go hide as he inspected the box and its contents. They did as commanded, and he climbed his way up the side of the box to peer inside. Looking it over he scrunched his face in curiosity. He finger-pointed piece by piece trying to visualize what would be the product of this build. Pointing to the barrel and then the stock he nodded to himself. This was a special project that could not be done here. He leaped down from the top of the box and landed without a sound, moving slowly past the man's hand dangling off the couch he stopped under the couch, giving the signal to the other gnomes to come to him and they did. With his nonverbal communication, he explained they all needed to get help and told him his plan. They nodded and all the gnomes except the leader ran through the darkness to the corners of the fireplace and disappeared. 

After a few moments, they came running back with the pixies in tow. They had their orders already and began working, this time, each pixie with the help of the gnomes including the lead gnome were grabbing pieces from the crate and turning right around and disappearing back into the fireplace. After about 5 minutes the first pixie that had taken something through came back empty-handed, flying to the box and grabbing another piece, a trigger, and carrying it through the dark portal in the fireplace. This continued, the pixies grabbing a piece and the gnomes grabbing two to three pieces, whatever they could carry. This went on for another 40 minutes before the box was empty. The room was still and quiet, the man's breathing continued to struggle. The only creatures behind were the gnomes, they moved to the empty crate and climbed to the top of it. They stared and studied the man quietly, not making any movements or sounds. As they stood there, with frowns on their faces, they slowly moved inside the box. The fireplace grew slightly bright as pixies started exiting the portal, two at a time, carrying a completed rifle with bayonet included. As they flew towards the crate, they would gently drop the rifle into a few waiting gnomes' arms and the gnomes would place them into the box in a row. Once dropped the pixies carrying the gun would disappear back into the portal and out would come another set with another rifle. This continued for about 5 more minutes, a total of 20 rifles were stacked in the box. As the train of guns continued to come, the man sat up quickly taking a deep breath, his head almost hitting one of the floating rifles. 

Another one came by, and he ducked, hands covering his head. Freaking out he stumbled across the ground, crawling his way to the doorway and leaning against it. His eyes caught up with him and he saw guns floating in midair, they were not moving. Blinking he took his hand and pinched his cheek to make sure he was not awake, *OUCH* he was. The lead gnome climbed up and looked around, wondering first why the guns stopped coming, then seeing the man was not sleeping on the couch anymore he looked around sharply, seeing him over by the door. Motioning with his hand he made a circle, and the pixies obliged. They flew to the crate and dropped the gun into waiting gnomes' arms, and they placed it in the crate. The man watched this and watched as those two same bright firefly-type bugs came towards him, a small swat as they got closer, they flew higher. Shaking themselves the dust fell over the man, and in mid-swing he was out, his hands falling to his sides, and within moments that smile was back on his face, an expression of happiness and peace. 

The lead gnome nodded to the pixies and pointed towards the fireplace quickly and threw his hand back as if saying they needed to hurry. The guns started coming through faster, now with four pixies carrying one at a time. This continued until the box was full and there was no more, a count of 50, just as everything else ended up. The pixies stayed behind after completion and the gnomes hopped to the ground floor, lifted the lid as a team, and slid it up and onto the box. Moving to the door they each grabbed onto the man and placed him back on the couch. They knew now they could make as much sound as needed because he would be out for a while. They moved back to the door and with a gnome totem pole, they reached the door handle and unlocked the door, pulling it open and breaking the totem they moved to the box. Each gnome grabbed one, one on each corner and one in between the long side of the crate. With a poof, they disappeared and suddenly reappeared with the crate outside on the porch. They walked back into the house using the door and closed it, the lead gnome then disappearing and reappearing on the door handle, he locked it back and poof, disappeared only to appear back on the ground. 

The gnomes nodded to one another and ran to the portal and vanished without a hint they had been there. After a while, the night turned today, and again the day turned to night, the man was still asleep on the couch. Two days had passed when he finally started stirring, the smile was still on his face as if plastered on. He sat up and rotated his shoulders and slowly stood; looking down, he noticed the box was gone. Confused he ran to his workbench, placing his hands on it, he looked around, seeing the crate was not there, he grabbed his pistol from the drawer and ran to the door. Unlocking the door and throwing it open in one movement he stepped out and tripped over the crate. Stumbling into the street he rolled and landed on his face. Pushing himself up quickly he looked around, gun in hand he aimed it out, ready to shoot whatever moved. Nothing moved. He turned towards the crate and moved to it. Leaning down his hand traced the crate, his eyes looking inside towards the house and then back at the box. Trying to lift the box to take it inside, he grabbed onto a corner and stood up. This was half as heavy as the earlier crate. As he started to drag the box around towards his front door, he saw something in the dirt, a stain of sorts. Placing the box down he leaned down to look closer, reaching down to touch it but as he was about to touch it, he pulled his hand back towards his face and studied it. It was covered in red, and it was warm. Pulling his hand back to study it he noticed it started dripping from his hand. His heart sank, and in a panic, he grabbed his pistol and tried to open the crate on the porch. Noticing it was nailed closed he ripped at it, taking the barrel of the gun, and separating the wood he pulled the top off. Looking inside he turned his head and vomited and cried all in one movement. 

Forcing himself to stop throwing up, he cried hard as he kneeled to the box, shaking violently when he saw them. His hand touched her face. He felt her, she was there. His hand moved down her face to her neck and to her bosom where he found a note. Grabbing it he pulled it fiercely and read it. 

“Thank you for completing the job. We promised we would return your wife and daughter. Sieg heil. Sincerely General Heremod �" Third Reich” 

With one movement the man thrust the pistol muzzle into his mouth, cocked it, and in one movement pulled the trigger. BANG. 

 

:: Happily Never After:: 

THE END 

Author's Note

Be honest but be kind :)