Fairies Elves Dragons

Chapter 3: The Invasion

“Gah!” The giant alien stood, shaking in total fear. The only thing that stood between him and the invaders was an empty merry-go-round.


Frankie, Elvis and Dionne stood on the playground, all with dumbfounded looks on their faces.


The alien had to be at least seven feet tall. His eyes were larger than the three of them combined. And yet, he stood there, trembling.


“Please don’t hurt me!” The alien stumbled backwards, tripping over his large feet. He fell onto the gravel surface and continued to crawl, backwards.

“Oh for the love of fairies.” Frankie rolled her eyes. “Relax, mister….mister….Eh. What’s your name?”

“M-M-Marshall. M-M-My name is Marshall.”

“Relax, Marshall. Nobody is going to hurt you. We just need to borrow your book for a few hours and then we’ll be on our way.”

Marshall shook is head in disbelief. “No. You’re one of them. You’re here to…to….erase me.” Large tears dropped from his eyes.

“Erase you?” Elvis took an elf-step forward, “What do you mean erase you?”

“Aliens. They come into books at night and make all of the characters disappear.”

“Let me get this straight.” Elvis hiked up his pants and took another step forward. “Aliens are invading books about other aliens?”

 “Not just alien books. All books. These things are going after whatever book is on the shelf.”

“Is that what happened here?” Dionne asked.

“No.” Marshall shook his head. “Everyone here left. I was on my way out too until I realized I forgot my backup inhaler.”


“People are leaving their books?” Frankie looked around the playground, wondering if this was connected to her current predicament “Where are they going?”

“Wherever they think they’ll be safe.” Marshall pulled himself off the ground, brushing the dirt off his legs. His tall figure cast a shadow over the invaders. “I’m going to stay with my Uncle Mike. He’s an MMA fighter.


“No one would ever challenge him.” 

To be continued

Chapter 2: Martians on the Playground

Frankie, Elvis, and Dionne moved from book to book trying to lift the covers. None of the fairy books opened. None of the elf books opened either. And to Dionne’s dismay, non of the dragon books opened. They sat on the top shelf as Tucker’s room began to lighten with the coming dawn.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Dionne pouted. “I’m tired and want to go to sleep. Why won’t any of my books open?”

“None of our books open,” Elvis yawned. “Why can’t we just sleep up here?”

“Don’t be stupid. You know why. We have to get into our books and we have to do it soon. The sun is almost up and if we are caught in this world when it rises, we’ll lose our magic.”

“What’s that smell?” Dionne asked burping our a small flame. “I’m so hungry.”

Elvis lifted his nose and twitched his nostrils. “Bacon. I’m sure of it. In my story, Journey to the Ancient Woods,” we had to camp out a lot and we ate bacon. A lot of bacon. It’s good.”

“What was that story about?” Dionne asked.

“Gah! Stop talking about food and plot lines!” Frankie chided. “Do you understand the seriousness of our situation?”

“So, what do suggest? If we’re stuck here we might as well retell stories and exchange recipes.” Elvis said.

Frankie stood and moved along the shelf pulling at various covers. Finally, one opened.”

“Hey! You guys! This one opened! Come on, we have to get in!”

“Frankie, that’s not one of our stories. What is it?”

“I doesn’t matter. We just get into the story, hang out for the day, and climb out tonight. Come on! Hurry, the sun is almost up.”

“How do we know we’ll keep our magic in that book? What if we go into that story, lose our magic, and then can’t get out?” Dionne asked.

“Aarrrgh! Guys! Does it matter? At least if we lose our magic in a story, we’re in a story,” Frankie argued.

“What does that matter? If we lose our magic out here then we can listen to Mom’s stories at bedtime and eat bacon,” Elvis said. “But, just out of curiosity, what is the story?”

Frankie stuck the arm of a stuffed bear under the cover to keep it propped open. Craning her neck around she read the title. “Martians on the Playground. Let’s go.”

Elvis shrugged, “Sure, why not. Martians aren’t too different different from Elves. I’m game. Come one Dionne.” Elvis stood and joined Frankie near the book.

“But what if they want to perform experiments on us?” Dionne said. She hugged her tail.

“Please, Dionne, we are out of time. They won’t try to dissect us. If they do, just burp on them,” Frankie pleaded.

“Okay, I guess.” Dionne joined the others and the three of them opened the cover. They placed their right leg under the cover and disappeared into the book.

To be continued…..

Chapter 1: Frankie, Elvis, & Dionne

Submissions for the January issue are now closed and with that closing, we’ve also ended our round robin story: Let’s Get Physical. Have no fear! If you’ve missed any of the chapters and would like to get caught up, just go here.

Last week, we opened submissions for our February/March issue: Fairies, Elves, and Dragons. Today, I’m kicking off a new story based on this issue’s theme.

Chapter 1: Frankie, Elvis & Dionne

Tucker waited for his mother to come and read him a bedtime story. The lamp on his bed side table was small and barely lit his room, inviting shadows to grow in the dark corners.  He stared at the closet, trying to figure out if he actually heard a sound from inside or if his mind was playing tricks on him again. Every night for the last two months, Tucker swore he heard tiny voices coming from inside of his closet. They always appeared right around story time. He told his parents about the voices and they always checked but never found anything – except for a stash of junk food he hid. That didn’t go over well with his mother.

The door to his bedroom creaked as his mother opened it and stepped in.

“Are you read for your story?” She asked.

Tucker nodded, relieved he was no longer alone.

She bent over by the bookshelf, selected a book and showed it to him. “How about this one?”

Tucker nodded again, making room in his bed for his mother to sit.



Frankie peered through the slats of the little boy’s closet door, trying to listen as his mother read to him. “Shush!” She said to her companions – Elvis and Dionne. “She’s about to begin the story.”

“How’s she starting it tonight?” Elvis asked as he pulled a hat off his head, revealing his pointed ears. “I hope it’s not once upon a time.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Dionne asked, wrapping her scaly tail around her body.

“It’s over done,” Elvis whined. “Every freaking story begins with once upon a time. Once upon a time there was a cat who wore a ridiculous hat. Once upon a time there was a princess who broke a nail while she waited for her prince to rescue her. Once upon a time there were three fat bears who ate a little girl for breakfast.”

“Enough, Elvis.” Frankie scolded. “We get it. You hate how fairy tales open. Find something new to complain about.”

“Oh,” Elvis began, sliding down a tall shoe. “Excuse me. I’m sorry I’m boring you.” He looked Frankie up and down. “By the way, what the hell are you wearing?”

“What do you mean?” Frankie looked down at her tank top, yoga pants and white sneakers.

“I thought you were a fairy. Where’s your skanky leotard and racy tights? Where are your wings?”

“I only wear those when I’m working,” Frankie said. “Today’s my day off.”

A  fireball shot across the walk-in-closet, striking the wall next to the door. The flames left a small scorch mark on the wall.

“Watch out!” Frankie and Elvis said.

“Sorry,” Dionne said, belching. “It’s my acid reflux. I can’t control it.”

“Try!” Frankie ordered.

“It’s not so easy,” Dionne said. “Last week I was flying over a mountain range and had to stop because I was getting air sick. The nausea triggered my acid reflux and I vomited fireballs all over the top of the mountain.

“The poor humans living in the town below ran for the lives because they thought the mountain was an erupting volcano.”

“That was you?” Elvis asked. “I heard about that on the news.”

“Enough, both of you!” Frankie yelled, exasperated by her companions.

“Dionne.” She sighed. “Do your very best to not set anything in here on fire. And you,” Frankie turned toward Elvis. “Since you’re such an expert on how stories should start, how would you do it?”

“I’ll tell you how I’d do it,” Elvis said, prancing up to Frankie. “I start it with a rap.” Elvis cleared his throat, puffing out his chest. “Yo! Yo! Yo! Listen up, people! Cuz this is how the story goes. An Elf. A Fairy. And a Dragon —”

“STOP!” Frankie ordered. 

“What?” Elvis asked. “I barely started.”

“That was the worst rap I’ve ever heard. Do NOT quit your day job doing…whatever it is elves do.”

Oh come on!” Elvis said. “It wasn’t that bad. Dionne, tell Frankie it wasn’t that bad.”

Elvis turned toward the dragon. “What are you doing?”

Dionne had her cell phone out. “I’m texting my therapist. I think I’m going to need extra sessions this month.”

“You two are a tough crowd,” Elvis said.

Frankie peered through the closet door. “Shoot.”

“What?” Elvis asked.

“Story time is over,” Frankie said. “We missed the whole thing.” She shrugged her shoulders. “All right, guys. We’d better hop back into our books before anyone notices we’re missing.”

Frankie climbed the wall, leaving a trail of fairy dust on the paint. She pulled herself onto the shelf and walked over to the book. She bent down, and grabbed the edge of her book. She pulled on the cover, but couldn’t get it to open. “Crap. Hey, guys! I can’t get my book to open.”

“Me neither,” Dionne said from down below.

“Who the heck is this freak on the cover of my book?” Elvis asked, alarmed. “I don’t remember him being in this story.”

Frankie peered over the edge of the shelf. “That’s not your book, moron! That’s a package of cookies.” She rolled her eyes. “Your book is over there!” She pointed in the direction of his book.

“I knew that,” Elvis said. “I was just testing you to see if you were paying attention.”

“Uh huh.” Frankie replied.

Elvis grunted and groaned as he fought with the cover of his book. “What the heck is going on?” He asked. “I can’t get my book to open either.”

“Frankie,” Dionne began, “what are we going to do if we can’t get back into our stories?”

To Be Continued….

%d bloggers like this: