[UNEDITED FIRST DRAFT] Clyde’s Typical Day (Temp. Title)


You WILL come across numerous issues including:

  • spelling mistakes;
  • grammar issues;
  • weak sentence structure;
  • repeated words;
  • unnecessary words;
  • missing words;
  • lack of details/descriptions;
  • confusing details/descriptions;

Critiques/criticisms, while appreciated, most likely will be discarded at this stage! Thank you.

Additional Note: Doodles, Sketches, and Artwork may be added over time. These are not the story illustrations! They do feature characters and places within the story, however.

From the floor “MMMMMWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR,” groaned the zombie…


Clyde groaned back and flipped over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. He pressed the sides up towards his ears in a fatal attempt to block out the sound of the zombie cat’s cries.

MMMMMMRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRR,” the zombie cat on the ground once more. 

Clyde let go of the pillow and punched it, using the force to lift himself up and send a death glare at the already dead zombie cat staring up at him with a single eye. 

“You’re lucky it’s not tea time!” 


Clyde pushed himself up to sit, his usual morning scowl firmly planted on his face as he did so. He stared at the cold cave walls for a brief moment, before reaching out to his left and grabbing the bathrobe that hung off from the headboard next to his pillow. He stood up, feeling the cool ground beneath him. He wiggled his toes as he covered his naked body with his blue robe. His body felt more grounded each each tap of his toes on the ground. 

Clyde pulled his long pink hair – almost bubble-gum pink with a tinge of silver – out from underneath the robe, allong it to drape in its full length, past his behind. He glanced at the zombie cat, who was still “mrwring” behind him. “You are one annoying cat…” he grumbled. He put his face to his palm, shaking his head. “Why did I ever take you in?” 


“Come along now. You’re just hungry, are you not?” 

The zombie cat stared at Clyde, cocking its head. The eye that was hanging loose from its socket bounced with the slight tilt of the head. 

Clyde and the zombie cat had a stare down for a good, long moment. 

Clyde flicked his arm out towards the staircase. “You went up yourself yesterday. Why do you just stare at me like that?” 

After another good long stare, Clyde had ENOUGH. He couldn’t help but scoop the cat into his arms – tightly to his chest to prevent the wraps he had so kindly placed around it much earlier in their days of meeting – and stomped up the stairs. “There better not be a call before we’re done.” 


Clyde shut the basement door behind, turning the corner into the kitchen. The dull color kitchen – shades of blue-black – was accented by blue-silver appliances and furniture. The refridgerator was no exception. Clyde placed the zombie cat on the ground and opened the refridgerator door. He knelt down and peered inside, onto the second to last shelf, just above the drawers. He pulled out a slightly condensation-filled jar of rat brains. 

His eyes scanned the remaining two jars. Goodness, I have to go shopping too? Perhaps Sadia…no, I can’t deal with someone that annoying today. Perhaps Celestyn or Gork– 



Clyde whipped his head, looking behind the his dining room table that was in the center of his kitchen. 

Attached to the head of the nail sticking out the side of the table was the wrap that had been keeping the zombie cat’s insides inside. Following it was a trail of those insides. 

“CALICOOOOOOOOOOO!” yelled Clyde. 


Clyde slammed the glass jar of rat brains onto the table and stomped on over to Calico. He unlatched the wraps from the nail head and grabbed Calico’s insides. 

Before Calico could run away – it had begun turning around as soon as Clyde was walking towards it – he had grabbed it and shoved it’s insides back into its partially open cavity. “You really need to stop doing that!” 


Clyde tightly wound the cloth back onto Calico, holding the cat with one hand and wrapping with the other. Calico cried out, attempted to run away. Clyde quickly lifted him up and held the squirming zombie cat close to his chest. “Hold on a moment – I need new safety pins!” 

Clyde went over to the drawers beside the refridgerator, pulling the top drawer open. He rummaged through papers, rubber bands, scissors, and other sorts of office trinkets, but there was not a single safety pin to be found. He opened each drawer after that. Finally, the second drawer from the top, farthest from the fridge, revealed to have some safety pins. 

Clyde bent over just a bit to have a good reach inside, while still holding Calico firmly against his chest. The cat had since stopped squirming, instead staring up confused at Clyde. 



Clyde pulled out the box of safety pins stashed in the back of the drawer all the while turning to the floor covered with broken glass and rat brains. 

As you can probably imagine, his frown – the one that was already on his face, intensified. He turned to the innocent stare of Calico, who continued to peer up at Clyde’s face. He rolled his eyes and placed the box of safety pins onto the table, quickly opened them and stitching Calico’s wrappings closed with them. 

He released Calico from his grasps onto the table, returning back to the drawers behind him. He shoved the safety pins back into the drawer they had been hiding in and went back to the top middle set of drawers to pull out a pair of rubber gloves. He slid them over his fingers and flexed his hand, letting the gloves settle into place. He turned to the mess on the floor and began carefully picking up the rat brains, examining each one for glass just before placing them on the table. 

“Mrwr!!!” Calico gleefully dug into the slowly forming feast of brains before it on the table. 

After each one was picked, Clyde grabbed a broom and dustpan hanging by the pantry closet and began to sweep up the glass. 

He sighed, followed by a groan, sweeping up the pieces of glass and the no-good rat brains that shards protruded from. 


Clyde returned back to his basement bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Not that it really was going to keep Calico out anyway – he had a pet door built right in, so it was of no use for that. It didn’t even have a way to lock it. 

Clyde returned back to his mirror taking a look at himself. He glanced at his hands both physically and in the mirror. Although they had nothing on them, the vague feeling of the zombie brains through the thick rubber gloves was enough to make him feel as if he was covered in dirt. He combined his hair with his fingers, as if trying to wipe them clean. 

“I suppose bathing is in order.” 

He stripped himself of his bathrobe and proceeded to an off-shoot room of his basement room – a full-fledged bathroom, completed with a toilet, sink, bath, and shower. It was decked out in marble and crystal, alongside many other materials. It was significantly brighter than the rest of his home, with pearl whites and faint grays. 

He turned on the shower and walked away, going to the closet that offshoot from the bathroom. The closet was divided by clothing and linens. He took a set of clothing off from the hangers and grabbed a towel, returning back to the bathroom. He draped the clothing over the counter next to the sink and hung his towel on a silver knob right beside the shower just above his head. 

Clyde entered into the shower, allowing the warmth cover his entire body. He let out a sigh and the scowl that had once covered his face no longer was there. Instead, he was clearly relaxed. What tea shall I drink today? 


Clyde jumped, his hand landing on the handle of the shower. He glared out the door at the deafening screech that he knew was coming from a particular lanturn situated on his bureau. 

“I didn’t even get to have my TEA!” 

He quickly scrubbed his body and washed his hair within minutes. “Could have the decency to wait once? If it’s not before the tea, it’s just as I am about to taste it’s leafy, herby splendor!” He yanked over the shower door while turning off the water. He reached over towards the silver knob, removing his towel in one fellow swoop. He quickly patted himself dry, then proceeded to wrap it around his waist. 

Clyde rushed over to the screeching lanturn, seeing it glowing rotating colors of green and purple. “Yes, yes, I hear you! Interrupting my time once more, I hear you.” He grabbed the lantern with both hands. His eyes bore into the middle of the lantern into the ball of light of green and purple.

The light brightened, turning pure white, and appearing within it was an image. Dark and dreary trees were illuminated by the light of the full moon overhead. Ghastly beings of all kinds ran in terror as a single ghost – one with almost no form – flailed around. It bounced off the trees, hit people passing by, and honestly, to Clyde, was clearly just another headache for him to clean up. Deep from within his mind, the location emerged – Death Forest. 

Clyde rolled his eyes. “I’m supposed to meet up with Celestyn and the others at early afternoon.” He glared into the lantern’s fading light. “This had better be quick.” 

The lantern screeched, as if responding back to him. 

Except it wasn’t ’cause the lantern simply helped Clyde direct his own energy and was imbued with magic strictly to help Clyde with his job of clearing away mindless Ghopreans who had clearly lose their mind and were so far gone, there was no way to lead them back. 

Clyde lifted up the lantern, holding the base from the bottom with both his hands. He peered into it and the light that had faded began to glow once more – first white, then to that of orange fire. He held the lantern up in the air in front of him. A vortex spilled out from the top, spreading out and raining down like a fountain of pale fire over Clyde. The energy spilled onto the floor and ran deep down into the earth

After a mere few seconds and the fiery energy fading, Clyde was completed dry. He lowered the lantern and grasped the handle with one hand, returning back to the bathroom. 

He placed the lantern beside his clothes. He quickly put on each layer – his unitard and socks, followed by his white undershirt and pants, then his cropped long-sleeve top (only a smidge shorter than his undershirt) and his capri pants. 

Clyde then turned to the mirror, staring at himself. He reached to a large trinket tray beside the sink and pulled one of many clear octopus clips from it. He grabbed his hair, pulling it all to one side of his head. He wound the base just a bit to create a tight cylinder. Holding it tightly in place, he put the octopus clip on the base. He then let go of his hair, allowing it to unwind and drape down the side of his head. 

He flipped his long side ponytail behind him and gave himself a nod, just as the lantern begun to screech once more. Clyde slammed the top of it, quickly causing it to shush up. 

“I’m going, I’m going!” 

Clyde grasped its handle and waltzed right out the bathroom door. He burst out of the basement, causing Calico to give him a confused stare from its bed in the corner of the living room that occupied the other side of the staircase. 

“I’ll be back,” said Clyde. He stopped at the mat by the door to slip on his buckle shoes and then he was out the door, trudging towards Death Forest with an eye on the sky. 


Sure enough, there it was. The ghost with almost no form. It looked like a melting green orb with a face. It bounced around, hitting each gray tree, hacking away at the trunks. It’s shrieks were almost ear-drum piercing and the few people who hadn’t fleed the area was desperately trying to stop it with ineffective nets and other weapons, which it easily cut right through. 

Clyde rolled his eyes, watching the chaos in front of him. He began to walk forward into the center of the action. 

“Move it,” said Clyde, snapping his fingers. 

Immeditately, out from the the top of the lantern spurred dozens of long arms and hands, grabbing each person attempting to capture the mindless ghost. Each one was tossed aside, further back into the woods, without a single care whether or not someone would get hurt. Clyde paid no mind to the yelps and cries from the fellow ghoulish citizens. 

As the hands finished clearing everyone out of the area, a light blue, translucent force field came down from the sky, creating a dome around the are of the forest the mindless ghost bounced around. 

The hands all returned back into the lantern. The orb of light in the middle of it quickly flashed a bright indigo, before fading and changing to green. 

Clyde let go of the lantern from his hands, allowing it to float in mid-air. He used his hands to guide it to align in the center at the same height as his chest. He continued to walk forward, approaching the center of the dome. 

The mindless ghost bounced around from wall to wall, nearly hitting Clyde numerous times. Clyde, however, simply took a step aside each time. The most it ever seemed to do was ruffle his side ponytail. 

Clyde cupped his hands underneath the lantern. The green light began to whirl around like an ominous cloud of gas. It seeped out from the top and all the little nooks and crannies. The haze rose up and out from the top. It curled up like a drill and went straight ahead to the mindless ghost that wasn’t even aware of it. 

The mindless ghost rammed into the haze. Like a mouth, the haze swallowed the mindless ghost whole. The green haze retreated back quicker than it had left back into the lantern. The haze formed back into a ball, flashed white a few times, before shrinking down to a single dark indigo flame. 

The lantern fell from the air and plopped right into Clyde’s hands. The forcefield around him disappeared and surrounding him now were the people he had tossed away. 

Clyde let out a loud sigh as he grasped the handle of his lantern with his left hand. He wiped under his one eye and yawned. “No matter how many times I do this, I just cannot get used to not having my morning tea…” 

He turned around on the ball of his foot and left the Death Forest. The peopel whom he had tossed simply just stared at him and exhcanged awkward looks, not even saying a word. Although, they were definitely thinking something – something along the lines of “should we thank him or yell at him”.


Clyde turned to the sky as he approached his home. The position of the moon overhead hinted it was just mid-noon for him alright! His steps became faster as he turned his head back forward. 

“Hey, Clyde!” 

Clyde promptly ignored the zombie leaning over the stone fence that clearly had seen better days. The zombie waved to him as Clyde sped right past him and down the dusty pathway back to his home.

“Clyde! Hey! Clyyyyde!” 

Do not even say it. They must have already arrived. 

After a few more minutes of kicking up dust with his feet, his home came back into view. 

Sure enough, standing there were three fellow Ghopreans – Celestyn the ghoul/banshee, Gorkkobin the goblin, and Tarny the giant baby tarnantula. 

“CLYDE!” cheered Tarny, jumping up and down. If it hadn’t been for its tone of voice, you would not have been able to tell the giant baby tarnatula was so happy to see its friend. 

Celestyn simply raised her hand brief and smiled, while Gorkkobin snickered. 

“Nyehehehehehe, that thing got you workin’ before your tea time?” asked Gorkkobin. He slapped his knee as he cackled, prompting Clyde to leer at him. 

“They just don’t know how to respect a good old tea time, you know?” replied Clyde. He proceeded to his front door, slipping the key into its lock. He ignored Gorkkobin’s michevious cackling and pushed open the door. 

“Mrrrwwwwwrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” greeted Calico, staring up from right in front of the door. Clyde’s eyes followed the mouse dead in between its jaws to the trail of blood drizzled around the entrance way. The blue of Clyde’s face dropped a few shades icier. 

“CAL. I. COOOOOOO,” he growled. 

Gorkkobin gawfawed, hitting the side of Clyde’s home with his hand. 

“Oh my,” gasped Celestyn, peering into the room, right down to the trail of blood. 

Clyde whipped around to Gorkkobin, grabbing the goblin by the collar of his white tank top. If it hadn’t been for Gorkkobin’s long, french baguette-esque nose, Clyde would have drew his face close to his friend’s. However, Gorkkobin DID have a baguette-esque nose, so long and bulky, there was no way Clyde could get in close to him. Instead, he simply glared. “You knew all about this, did you not?” 


Clyde scoffed and dropped Gorkkobin. “Now the tea is going to be delayed!” He placed his hand on his forehead, stepping over the mouse blood and into the household.

Gorkkobin and Celestyn followed right behind him. 

“I’ll make the tea then, nyeheh!” 

Clyde glared at him with darts. “I wouldn’t trust you within 10 feet of tea making!” 

Clyde turned on the ball of his foot and placed his free hand on his hip, looking to Gorkkobin, eying his pocket. “You most likely have some sort of practical joke just waiting to be used on us, yes?” 

Gorkkobin just gave him a toothy grin. Clyde frowned deeper. 

“Celestyn,” said Clyde, turning his head to the light-purple haired half ghoul looking around awkwardly. “Could you please start the tea for me while I clean up Calico’s unforunate mess?” 

Celestyn nodded. “Yes, right away. Was there anything in particular you were looking for today?” 

“Hmm…no. Just grab what you feel from my tea cabinet.” 

Celestyn stepped past the snickering Gorkkobin and into the kitchen. 

Just before Clyde turned, around, he called to Celestyn once more. “Make sure Gorkkobin gets no where near the tea!” 

“I got this! I got this!” exclaimed Tarny, immedtiately standing tall. Out from its front legs spat out silk that quickly covered Gorkkobin’s large feet. 

“Wah, nyeeeeeh?” 

Clyde turned around and flipped his hair, smirking at the scene unfolding behind him of an adult goblin being restrained by a young giant tarantula’s silk. 


With his lantern placed back on his bureau and cleanin supplies in hand, Clyde returned back to the entrance way to clean. 

Calico was no where to be found, but the blood of the dead mouse still remained. He filled the small bucket in his hand with warm water from the kitchen sink, getting a whiff of the tea Celestyn was brewing and the cookies that were baking in the oven. 

It’s been quite a while since we’ve had something with our tea, has it not? thought Clyde. His tense shoulders relaxed each time his inhales took in the scents of the air. 

He went back to the entrance way and scrubbed the floor clean with a large sponge as quickly and thoroughly as he could. His eyes scanned for each spot, following the trail to a small hole in the wall. He looked tapped it with his glove covered hand. Inside, he knew that this was exactly where the mouse had come in and how it became an extra meal for Calico for that day. 

Clyde took a look at his hand free hand that had just tapped the wall. Although he wasn’t thinking anything in particular, he was definitely feeling it – the inability to control his own magic without an object to direct his energy through. A slight sense of melancholy over took him. Somewhere deep within his body, he could feel that this strange inability plagued him even in his previous life, but he wasn’t quite sure what he did back then. He still didn’t and couldn’t remember the details. 

Quite the shame though – he would have loved to use magic to instantly seal the hole. But he wasn’t about to go back down to his room to grab his lantern and he didn’t trust any of the other objects in the area to direct his magic through.

A familiar screech rang through the area. Clyde stood up from the floor and turned to the kitchen. 

“Clyde, the tea is done!” called Celestyn. 

“Thank you, I’m coming!” 

Clyde walked to the kitchen and placed down the bucket and sponge into the sink. He removed his gloves and threw them into the box labeled “to compose” on it right underneath it. He washed his hands and dried them with a towel hanging beside the sink on a hook. He then turned to the kitchen table and sat down. 

Celestyn poured him a cup of tea and placed a small plate of shortbread cookies right in front of him. Clyde leaned back and sipped his tea – certainly green tea this time with a few extra herbs – feeling the warmth spread down through his esophegaos and across his chest. Soon, his whole body was warmed and relaxed. 

Clyde looked up, seeing Tarny nawing away at the silk bonds it had made around Gorkkobin, who didn’t seem to thrilled for once in his life. Clyde couldn’t help but smirk. 

After a few minutes of watching the struggle, Gorkkobin was set free and sat down in between Tarny and Celestyn. 

“Are you okay?” asked Tarny. 

Clyde tilted his head. “Are you speaking to me?” 

“Yes! You look tired.” 

“Well,” said Clyde. “I was woken up by a certain zombie cat who caused or lead to multiple messes today. I also had to deal with another mindless ghost before tea time once more.” Clyde took a sip of his tea. “I suppose you could say I am okay. And I suppose you could say I am tired.” 

“Ooo!!! Another mindless ghost?!” Tarny’s front legs pushed against the table top and Tarny’s multiple eyes gleefully stared at Clyde with anticipation. “What kind of fight did you have today?” 

Clyde found himself leaning on the table. “None.” He sipped his tea. 

“Huh? Noooone? Awww.” 

“‘Aw’ indeed…” Clyde put his tea cup down and swapped it for a cookie. He let the buttery shortbread melt in his mouth, lending sweetness that his tea lacked – the absolute perfect compliment. 

“Hmm…it sounds like they have not been fighting back much lately,” replied Celestyn. 

Clyde slammed his tea cup on the table., causing the crack in it to crack even further. He then slammed his other hand down, followed by standing up, gawking at Celestyn. “They used to put up so much of a fight when I first started, I nearly thought I’d be killed!” He sat back down once more and crossed his legs and his arms, turning his nose up towards the ceiling. “But now they are all terrible dull.” 

His friends looked at him in silence. Clyde turned back to them, rolling his eyes. He picked his tea cup up once more bringing it to his mouth. “And it’s certainly not because of anything I did. Unlike those who came before them, all the seem to do now is bounce around.” 

“Are they playing?” asked Tarny.

“Most certainly not – they’re mindless. They couldn’t have a shread of thought to play.” 

“Nyehehehe, sounds like my kind of people!” 

“They’re not people,” snapped Clyde. He lowered the tea cup from his lips, leering at the grinning Gorrkobin. “They’re merely a fraction of their former selves, left behind with no recollection of who they were.” 

“Like you?” asked Gorkkobin. Clyde did not like the smirk that was stretching across the goblin’s face.

“I at least remembered my name and that I like tea.” Clyde went back to sipping. 

Celestyn grabbed another cookie from the tray she had placed in the middle, filled with additional ones that didn’t fit on the plate distributions from earlier. Her eyes down casted. “That sounds sad. I couldn’t imagine it.” 

“You don’t want to,” replied Clyde. “They’re simply nusances.” 

“Wow, Clyde, you sound like you really hate it!” remarked Tarny. Everyone looked at Tarny – Gorkkobin snickered, Celestyn’s eyes popped and her lips flickered between a smile and a frown, while Clyde simply eyed the young tarntula. “Why do you go?” 

“It truly is an annoyance of mine. I don’t particular like it. At least before they were hostile and made it feel like a job well done, but now, their damage is so minor, I’m not even sure if it’s worth me using my magic on them.” 

Celestyn sat up and grabbed the tea. “You said that put up a fight before, but now they just bounce around. What kind of damage are they doing instead?” 

Clyde held out his cup towards Celestyn. “They used to kill people and damage properity like a hurricane. Now they chop down trees, break windows, and knock down little old men walking back from the food market.” 

“Nyehehehe, you sure it isn’t just the types dyin’ and turnin’ into the mindless beings?” 

Clyde shrugs. “I do not know. All I know is —” 


Clyde slammed down his tea cup again, the cup finally shattering. Celestyn gasped, pulling the teapot close to her body. Gorkkobin and Tarny simply just stared. 

“I HATE when my tea time gets interrupted!” 

Clyde got up from his seat and rushed down to the basement, grabbing his lantern. 

“Where? WHERE?! Show me, now!” he commanded. He peered into the white light and clearly saw the image of the area. And just like before the information was downloaded into him.

Clyde quickly rushed back up the stairs. He turned to his group of friends and pointed to his lantern. “The damned mindless are at it again. Please excuse my rudeness, for I must get this solved. It should only take 20 minutes.” 

Celestyn waved. “We are fine Clyde, go do your job.” 

Clyde bowed his head and headed on out, ignoring the zombies and ghosts that were attempted to chat with him in the graveyard on his way to the place. 


Clyde hadn’t needed to go very far. It was only on the other side of the graveyard. 

Sure, it still took him 15 minutes (speed walking) , but it was still more or less in the area. 

Trodding around was a zombie. Well, it was mostly a zombie. 

Clyde could clearly see the zombie was only partially solid. Parts of it was fragmented – it’s normal blue magical glow was spotted with orange. Anything that had been solid within those orange spots had completely disintergrated into oblivion. It was clear it was in the midst of transforming. 

The zombie wasn’t really doing anything. Other than few fallen headstones Clyde couldn’t remember if they had been standing before or not (after all, the graveyard was in grave need of repair, yet none of the zombies or other residents even wanted to do anything. BAH.), it seemed pointless. 

Clyde stood a good few yards away, staring right at the mindless zombie. The zombie didn’t even look towards him. 

Clyde lifted up his lantern, still staring down the zombie and…nothing. 

The zozmbie just kept waddling with an occassional lunge forward. 

Anger surgered up Clyde’s back – so much so, the flicking indigo flame within his lantern turned a vibrant red. Clyde’s eyes locked onto the zombie like a video game’s targeting system. He narrowed, honing in on the zombie’s head. 

He reached out his opposite hand, aligning it with the hand that held the lantern, and snapped his fingers. “GO!” he roared. 

The red light twisted and turned, shooting out from the top. As it sped to the zombie, the red light shed itself to reveal an eerie green underlayer. The underlayer formed a hand at the very end and with one single grab, the hand yanked the zombie into it’s vortext. 

The zombie’s body folded in the middle like a book and the hand seemed to vacuum the rest of it up. 

The green light retreated back to the lantern and returned to its former shade of blue-purple.

Clyde huffed. 

Just as the numerous residents of the area of this part of the graveyard popped out from hiding – from underground, from behind and under the headstones – Clyde turned on his heel. 

He was so fast, the collective yell of a handful of the residents fell deaf to his ears. 

The last thing I want right now is bad tea! 


Clyde slammed the lantern on the bottom of drawer in the clearing he had just made. He proceeded to cover it up in numerous blankets that had once occupied the drawer. Other than the few that didn’t fit, he stuffed the drawer and slammed it shut. He made his way back up the stairs and into the kitchen, where he promptly sat back down and folded his arms. 

Celestyn walked over with a piping hot pot of tea and a new cup, placing it down and serving it to Clyde. Clyde unfolded his arms and partially refolded them as he brought the cup to his mouth. He took a sip. His tongue sung with delight at the perfectly balance between water and herbs. 

“You remade the tea?” 

“Yes,” replied Celestyn. 

Clyde couldn’t but laugh. “It’s a good thing I put you in charge.” 

“Nyehehe, you came back in quite a hurry.” 

Clyde narrowed his eyes at Gorkkobin, glancing over at Celestyn. “Please tell me you did not let him touch the tea.” 

“Of course I did not,” replied Celestyn. Her own lips curled, perfectly ghoulish. “I am certain you would have heard my banshee shriek if he had.” 

Gorkkobin flinched, sweat crossing his brow. He leaned over to Tarny, mumbling, “remind me never to cross paths with her, nyeheh!” 

Tarny’s front legs clapped the table. “What kind of ghost was it this time? What kind of ghost?!” 

Clyde frowned. 

Tarny cocked its head. 

“It wasn’t a ghost. It was a zombie in the stage of being a mindless ghost,” replied Clyde. He took a sip of his tea once more. 

“Ooo!” squealed Tarny. “And what kind of fight did it put up?!”

The cookie Clyde had picked up off the tray near him became crushed in his hands. “One of the worsts yet!” he grumbled through his teeth clenched. “The damned thing did nothing. I couldn’t even tell if the headstones that were knocked over was its doing or not!” Clyde tossed the cookie crumbs onto the tray. He then proceeded to grasp his head, shaking it. “And I thought the other ghosts were terribly inactive…” 

Tarny’s let out a disappointed sigh. “I’m sorry, Clyde.” 

“Not your fault – I just do not understand why this even happens in the first place. Surely my abilities could be part of something far more useful, like getting rid of nusances in the council.” 

“Nye..heh…getting rid of council members…” snickered Gorkkobin, with a tinge of discomfort revealing itself in his voice. 

Clyde leered at Gorrkobin, who flinched under Clyde’s single eye. “What? Do you not agree that some are nusance?” 

“Nye heh heh.” Gorkkobin nothing but grin. Clyde’s eye narrowed at his friend – clearly, Gorrkkobin was uncomfortable with such a suggestion. 

Does he know something I don’t? wondered Clyde, carefully sipping his tea. 

“Why do you two seem awkward?” asked Tarny. Clyde and Gorkkobbin’s eyes widened in surprise at the young trantula’s words. 

Celestyn immeditately jumped in and placed a hand over Tarny’s mouth from underneath his body. “Tarny, there is no need to be rude! Clyde and Gorkkobbin are just communicating the way that they do.”

“Right,” agreed Clyde and Gorkkobbin. Clyde took a sip of his tea, while Gorkkobbin bit into a cookie as if checking for the authenticity of a gold coin. The two glanced at each other as the air seemed to become more dense. 

Celestyn released Tarny, who let out an “oooooooooooooh”. The tarantula then giggled. “Wow, humanoids sure are weird!” 

Celestyn patted Tarny’s back. 

Clyde leaned back, enjoying his tea to its fullest depths. 

A faint screeching sound could be heard coming from the basement, but it was so light that Clyde could easily ignore it. For once. 

He took a big gulp of tea to drown out the sound of his lantern warning him about another mindless ghost that was probably being a minor problem somewhere out there. 


Clyde released his hair from his side pony, letting it rain down on his body once more. He then walked over to his closet and stripped off his clothes in every single layer – from the top most to his unitard, he removed them all to release his body from the hold it had on him. He place each one into its own hamper and returned back to his bathroom once more. 

He walked over to the bath and turned on the water, allowing it to run for a good minute before adjusting the water temperature that felt more friendly to his body. As the water in the bathtub ran, he stepped into his shower and brought a small stool from the corner to underneath the shower head. He turned on the shower and after a good few seconds, sat down on the stool and began to rinse himself.

He reached over to his right-hand side, grabbing a large jar filled with a sugar scrub. He removed the cap and out poured the smell of florals with a hint of citrus. He scooped his hands inside of the jar, removing a large amount of sugar. He placed the scrub jar beside him and began to exfloate his body. He made extra sure to scrub the bottoms of his feet – every part that ached the most – just before washing everything off. He replaced the cap and the jar back into their rightful positions, stood up, and shut off the shower. He patted himself down with the towel that hung beside the shower just before getting out and going back to the bath. 

Halfway full, Clyde popped open a jar full of salt, herbs, and oils and scooped out two cups full using the large wooden scoop inside of it. He sprinkled it above the surface of the water. He placed the wooden scoop back into the jar and sealed it once more. He then took his finger and dipped it inside. In the water he traced a sigil, reciting: “Water heal me, Earth ground me, Fire warm me, Air relax me, Spirit Fill Me. So mote it be!” 

The water flashed numerous colors. Clyde trembled as the magic flowed from his own being and into the water. 

His magical ability was simply far too strong without some sort of surge protector, like his lantern. In this case, the water itself acted as the perfect middleman and the tub held it all together. 

He took a handful of lavendar out from an open container beside his tub and sprinkled it inside of it. In his mind, he pictured himself relaxing. He didn’t dare do anything more than that though – if he had even remotely tried, the lavendar itself would’ve been fried…the last thing he wanted in his nice, relaxing bath! 

As the tub finished filling, Clyde made his way upstairs and into the kitchen where he had a kettle full of water sitting. He turned out the heat and waited a few moments, just to hear the kettle’s screech. He removed it from the heat and removed the top off of it, just before dipping a ball of a tea mixture into it and let it seep for a bit. 

Once the tea had seeped for long enough, Clyde transferred all of it into a large ceremic cup with a lid and a hole for drinking. He tossed the kettle into his sink – causing the sleeping Calico to wake up, shriek, and scurry – and returnd back to the basement where the bath was perfectly filled. 

Clyde stepped in, left foot first, into the water. He lowered himself in slowly and leaned back onto the specially designed pillow for his bath. He couldn’t help but feel his whole being relax. 

After a few moments of just simply being, he lifted the ceremaic cup to his lips and sipped his tea, enjoying each and every relaxing moment. 


Clyde was finally all dry, minus the very tips of his hair. He placed his book down on the small end table beside his couch and stood up. He walked over to his bed and placed his bathrobe back onto the rack nearby. 

He clapped his hands twice and all the lights in his home, minus the few floorlights he kept on for walking’s sake, and slipped into bed. 

He drifted off into the deep abyss that is sleep and dreamtime. 

* END * 

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This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, situations, and incidents are the products of my imagination OR are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

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