Sunday, July 24, 2011

Stolen Sasquatch Recovered! part II

Continued

Norman, the Sasquatch aka Big Foot, has been captured near the small town of Stigler, Oklahoma (in the mundane world.)

Master Healer Margaret Mai Lynn officially reported no serious injuries, stating she stabilized a broken leg. I found out later, she broke Sídhí law by completely healing a ruptured artery in the mundane rancher when he tried calling for help. If she hadn't healed him, he would've died.

For all you mundanes out there, be very wary of healers. Never, not unless you are seconds from dying, ask a healer to help you. Trust me you'll probably end up dead. When it comes to a mundane, a healer is more dangerous than a dhark vampire.

You see, healers can heal Sídhí.

Vampire, dragon, shapeshifter, it doesn't matter which Sídhí race as long as a person has synth crystal in their blood a healer can pull energy from herself and the injured person. This allows the healer enough energy to heal a Sídhí, even if the Sídhí is near death.

Unfortunately, when a healer attempts to heal a mundane the person's very life essence is sucked out. Sucking a person's essence is very addictive. That's why most valleys have banned healers from visiting Earth, a ruthless practice, but effective.

On a happy note, the mundane rancher is alive. He fell into a coma due to his life's essence nearly getting sucked dry, but Healer Margaret swears he'll wake-up in a month or two.

Oh dear! I've gone off on one of my tangents, haven't I? On to the events of Friday night, which lead to Norman's capture!

I parked my ancient Chevy truck next to the brick ranch house in the nick of time.

Clan Guardian Alexander stood on the porch, berating Healer Serena for nearly killing Mark. Several Clan Guardians noticed me and waved, but I steered clear of Alexander. He would've stopped me from interviewing the victims.

I found Mark's wife and three teenage girls sitting in the living room. Each of them stared blankly at the ceiling, mouths dropped open.

I feared the guardians had already wiped the true memories from their minds and mentally ordered them to remain silent. Thankfully, that didn't happen.

Guardian Tremaine, a really sweet vampire with dark auburn hair and a gorgeous – repeat all rippling muscles, no fat – body, allowed me to interview the women.

The youngest daughter, Sheila, provided the best recount of the evening. The mother wouldn't quit sobbing and the other two girls couldn't take their eyes off Tremaine to answer my questions.

Anyway, Sheila said they heard a horrible noise about ten o'clock.

Mark grabbed his gun, ordering his wife to lock the door behind him. He opened the front door. Shouted (Sheila said, he sounded scared) and rapidly fired his gun. Slammed the door shut. All the while, shouting for everyone to run to the cellar. That's what they call storm shelters.

They ran through the house toward the kitchen. Sheila heard the front door, a solid oak monstrosity, being ripped off its hinges.

Attached to the house, the storm shelter opened into the laundry room. They piled in the cement room and bolted the steel door shut.

Mark was a smart man. Well, mostly. On their dash through the kitchen, he kicked the trash can over, spilling its contents. They had spent the night before cutting and packing a deer he shot. Yes, he killed it out of season, but that's beside the point.

The blood kept the Sasquatch occupied.

If Mark had stayed in the storm shelter, everything would've worked out fine. He didn't. He left to call for help and the Sasquatch chased him up a tree.

Unfortunately, all Sasquatch have very long claws and are very good tree climbers.

Norman slashed Mark's thigh, puncturing a major artery.

Clan guardians showed up before Norman pulled Mark out of the tree, shooting Norman with a tranquilizer dart.

Norman is now peacefully sleeping off the tranq dart. For those of you who wish to meet Norman, his new home is a twenty acre enclosure at Mordecai's Sasquatch Ranch.

Mordecai's has daily tours. I encourage families or individuals who want a longer adventure to purchase one of their many tour packages, which (depending on the package you pick) include a cabin, jet skis, trail rides, and a dozen other wonderful extras. Tell them Jodie sent you!

On a final note, Clan guardians gave the mundane family and Haskell County emergency workers vague memories of a rabid black bear, not a very good cover story but it worked.

Until next time ~ Jodie B. Cooper

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