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Chapter One: The Storm2,770 words
Chapter Two: Candle in the Night3,056 words
Chapter Three: First Contact...ish.5,572 words
Chapter Four: Friends3,241 words
Chapter Five: Adjustments5,327 words
Chapter Six: Chaotic Truths4,629 words
Chapter Seven: Surprising Social Situations5,041 words
Chapter Eight: The Walls Tumble Down5,299 words
Chapter Nine: Eventualities5,227 words
Chapter Ten: Flames3,327 words
Chapter Eleven: Row by Row5,035 words
Chapter Twelve: Heart to Heart4,263 words
Chapter Thirteen: Paths3,716 words
Epilogue430 words

Chapter Two: Candle in the Night

“This is Raven Rock fire lookout broadcasting on all frequencies, or at least the ones programmed into this thing. Anyone out there?” Jason asked, waiting to listen for a response.

However, static greeted his afternoon message as it had the past few days. The majority of the second and third day had been somewhat productive, keeping the man’s mind occupied from the overwhelming gravity of his situation. As per the noises the first night, something had been scratching at the support beams.

Seeing the thick gashes on stone and wood alike the lookout had wound a fair amount of barbed wire around each pillar to further fortify the structure. All building supplies were hauled up to the story beneath the main tower and he even managed to make the bottom part of the stairs pivot upwards.

Just like in Swiss Family Robinson. I mean it was fairly simple but rather time consuming. I sawed it in half, screwed in two hinges and attached a rope. It’s a somewhat effective drawbridge at least. The man mused, hoping the sharp wire and lack of stairs would at least deter any sort of creatures. He could hear things in the woods, part of the reason venturing out further past the small clearing he stood in was out of the question.

When he was down to a few days of water, he’d give it a shot. Until then, here he’d stay.
I guess showers are out of the question unless it rains. Ah well.

Unlike the previously clear day, clouds were gathering on the horizon so Jason did his best to secure the building. There were some shapes flitting around the distant clouds; black specks against the horizon. Even with binocular’s magnification, the man couldn’t figure out what they were; buzzards perhaps? They moved off in a strange pattern; left, ahead, and then right of the approaching storm.

As he worked the man kept his eyes on the clouds, once again casting his thanks into the sky for whoever constructed the tower. Despite being built fifty years prior the building was still as sturdy as back on Earth, thankfully. It took most of the day to drill in extra screws and make semi-permanent modifications such as a place to hold the solar panels and water collection tubs.

The storm arrived within hours, the clouds moving at a speed that was rather unnerving. Rain lashed at the tower and wind sent the small battery-powered weather station on the roof into a tizzy.

Fifty mile-an-hour gusts? What is that, eighty kilometers? Some of his friends were in…had been in different countries, so translating units was an exercise Jason had tried to keep up in practice.

Either way, it was a fast storm.

He didn’t bother with flares that night, the rain and thick clouds making everything nearly invisible from the tower. Yet he could still see at the base where green and red eyes prowled around in the fog. Strangely, they seemed to be separate as though the two owners of the colors refused to mix. Occasionally the red eyes chased the green ones off, then lurking at the edge of the clearing to watch the tower.

Odd. Some sort of territorial creature? Well, at least I’m getting some rain.
Too windy to shower….not worth it.

It was only at times like this where the man’s mind wasn’t occupied by a task in which the dread began to creep in, the realization of something being very wrong. He had managed to remain occupied for most of the past three days, but tomorrow Jason had a feeling would pass much slower. Already the extreme isolation was beginning to eat at him. It was one thing to have regular contact with the dispatch center, his family, and so forth in a familiar if not remote setting. This was much more agonizing; and the sense of being marooned on a hostile island was beginning to eat at the man’s nerves.

The howls in the night only served to confirm as much.

‘May as well keep a journal; if anyone ever finds it, they can have some sort of idea of what I was doing here.’ Jason scrawled as the tower swayed in the wind. ‘Noon of the four day. It has been raining constantly. At least I got a shower to stay somewhat clean. I’ve mostly been twiddling my thumbs; I’ve got plenty of videos and entertainment stored on my backup drives…but I don’t want to waste too much power, especially with the cloud cover being so severe.

Interesting notes: Time seems to be about the same here. Twenty-four hours per day, sunset and sunrise at approximate Earth equivalents. But I am certainly not on Earth, the stars show that much, and the weird rising and falling of the sun/moon.

Nerves are getting to me. Trying to stay positive and not panic. It’s only now starting to sink in. Before, I was just getting the building more secure. Now? It’s all set, and I can just wait. No responses from any radio transmission or the flare yesterday, or the day before that. I’m alone here, and I still don’t know where here is.

A *BOOM* of thunder shook the lookout, Jason looking up with an indignant expression.
“Thor? Do you MIND?” he called out into the storm, walking over to look out one of the un-boarded windows.
“I mean, by all means continue. Fill up those fifty-gallon drums with water if you please, but leave my tower out of this!”

The rest of the day passed rather slowly, the lookout making his usual afternoon transmission. The storm let up somewhat going into evening, and then the lookout had a breakthrough after a few hours of tinkering.

“Let there be light!” he proclaimed, flicking a switch and grinning. The heavy-duty floodlights on the sides of the lookout tower flared to life, drawing power from the straining battery bank.

“Probably don’t have more than an hour with a full system, but HAH!” the man cheered, spirits immediately lifting as he turned it back off. He had no idea if they would burn out either; the mis-match of spliced wires into a heavily-duct-taped surge protector was haphazard at best. It was probably pure luck that the batteries didn’t output enough energy to burn out the bulbs.

“An electrician I am not, but with the power of duct-tape, I sure can pass as one!”

As evening fell, Jason turned on the lights and felt his skin crawl. Darting into the woods, dark shapes fled the illuminated circle, their green and red eyes looking at the structure from the safety of the shrubs and trees. The red-eye owners seemed to lurk around for a time before flitting off, leaving the eerie green-eyed individuals to stare at the tower.

“I have half a mind to blow you all to bits,” Jason muttered, resting an arm on a heavy rifle balanced on the railing. The firearm had seen more deadly circumstances than he ever had; the gun from wars fought before the man’s time. But it could still fulfil its purpose, in this case, preventing the lookout from ending up as dinner to whatever those things were.

But, as it stood, the shapes had been a creepy annoyance, nothing more. Until that changed, no reason to be hostile.
And if this IS a simulation, last thing I’d way to portray is blasting everything in sight. The man mused, returning inside to retrieve the flare gun.

As evening drew near, Jason buckled on his hiking belt, checking each item. Multi-tool, flashlight, bear spray, pistol, knife…first aid kid, all still there. It was one of the few small precautious he had when walking down to check the tower drawbridge was still secure, as well as the increasingly ugly but effective door to the second level. The belt usually served its purpose when closing the gate at the end of the long road…back when there had been a road at least. A headlamp was added to the attire make sure that light was always present, and that made it easier to examine the structure at times. No new scratches were found and the man made it up to the top just as the sun did its unnatural flip-flop with the moon.

Making his evening transmission, Jason then loaded and fired the flare, looking around to see if there was any response.

“Nothing. I mean what do I expect? A helicopter maybe?” he muttered, stowing the flare gun. Electricity charged his frame as something rang out among the distant thunder.

A voice?

Flicking on the flood lights, Jason strained his ears having sworn that some coherent sound had called out across the forest. It had been warbling at first, but had a strange sense of coherence…

“…ELP!”

Goosebumps ignited along the man’s entire body as a bright light flashed upwards from the forest, the bright red flare hanging in the sky as it ignited. The howls of mysterious creatures accompanied the light, freezing the man in place for but a second.

Someone is here!

Grabbing the nearby shotgun, Jason tore down the stairs, nearly slipping and falling into a heap at the bottom of the first story. Lowering the drawbridge the man charged into the undergrowth, light from the headlamp blurring across the trees.

The clouds seemed to take displeasure in the man’s hope, unleashing a steady stream of rain and accompanying thunder as bushes tore at the lookout’s clothes.

“…YNONE?!”

The voice sounded out again, definitely feminine but having a strange, undecipherable and warbling accent at the first part of the word. A strange ache poked at Jason’s temples at the sound.

Howls sounded out amidst the thunder, as well as a definite scream.

NO!

Shoving through the undergrowth, Jason skidded to a stop, powerful headlamp casting shadows across eight figures amid a space in the trees. To his right, a muddied girl lay, strange golden armor adorning her frame. Bloodied fingers were reached out towards him as a giant wolf was clamped down on her other arm.

“HEY!”

The shotgun came up, and the wolf barely had time to look at the lookout before the weapon roared. The impact blew the creature apart, bits of muscle and bone flying everywhere-

Wait…no…

Jason’s temples were stabbed with a sudden pain, and the scene shimmered with a flash of the overhead lightning. The bits of gore moved; no, not flesh and blood, but wood. The pieces swirled together and coalesced with a soft *pop* into the retreating form of a green-eyed wolf.

Wolves…made of wood?

He didn’t have time to dwell on the fact, the shotgun roaring again as three more of the creatures charged. Each impact reacted in an unnatural manner with the creatures, blowing them to pieces with far more violence that logically possible. A fourth wolf got close enough however, jaws latching around the offending weapon as Jason was knocked to the ground, shoving the gun upwards as he tried to keep the wolf’s mouth from snapping at his chest.

The pistol that was drawn from the man’s belt pressed against the creature’s chest, discharging with a *BANG* that blew the wolf in half.

How?! That’s a small round…no way should it have that…
No complaints.

The other wolves growled, slowly retreating. A shot to the nearest one made that action much faster, the man firing at any of the creatures that moved.

I have a few moments! Now how do I-

The lookout’s heart seemed to pause as he looked at the prone girl. His vision shimmered again, and the human’s body vanished. Two horrified and fearful green eyes looked up at his, bloodied feathers and fur matted with mud as a familiar creature stared at the dumbstruck human.

A gryphon!?

The creature tried to shift, letting out some pained yelps before Jason knelt down and shook his head. The gryphon tried to scoot away, and the lookout held up his hands disarmingly.

“It’s ok! I’m here to help…I’m not going to hurt you,” he remarked softly, knowing full well it was only the tone this individual could only possibly understand.
Did I hear words by mistake? I must have.

The creature’s beak and jaw were disjointed, a large gash rushing across their face. The gryphon’s grey, white, and splotchy-black feathers were torn along their side and flank and more than one limb appeared to be broken.

“We need to get you out of here, ok?”

Jason had no idea of even how to communicate that but thankfully the individual passed out, flopping into the mud unceremoniously. As howls began to sound nearby, the man slung the shotgun over his shoulder, grabbing a strange and large set of bags nearby. What looked like a crude, single-shot pistol lay in the mud; perhaps the source of the flare? He left that however, adjusting the canvas-like bags over his shoulder.

Belonging to the gryphon maybe?

“Please don’t bite me, please don’t bite me,” he muttered, kneeling and picking up the gryphon with a heave. Thankfully they were lighter than they appeared, about half to two-thirds the weight of an adult human.

His lungs ached as Jason jogged towards the distant lights of the lookout, his limbs shaking with exertion as they reached the stairs. Carefully setting the gryphon down on the first stair landing, Jason hauled up the trapdoor, then retrieving his precious cargo and continued to climb.

The howls intensified, spurring the man onwards. Gasping for breath, he lowered the wounded creature onto the floor. Dashing back outside, he slammed the hatch door closed, a wolf already peeking its head up on the stairs below; clearly the drawbridge only was a temporary deterrent. Throwing the heavy latches closed, Jason leaned out over the tower and fired off his last few shots of the shotgun, splattering two wood-wolves with the lead slugs including the one just below him.

Quickly latching all of the window shutters closed, Jason then ran inside, locking the door and retrieving a worn-out surplus foam mat. Scooting the gryphon onto it, he dug into a large duffel bag, retrieving a smaller pouched with a medical cross on it. The odd bags that he had retrieved with the gryphon were near the door, but he let those be for now.

“On the plus side, that rain washed off most of the mud and such. We’ll get you clean later…” he muttered, tearing open some large bandages and began to bind the creature’s bleeding wounds after sliding off the odd golden breastplate. Now in the light of the battery-powered lantern, he could at least somewhat examine the creature he was aiding. It was a female, at least as far as he could tell by the slightly slimmer figure and facial structure. But, for all he knew these creatures didn’t have sex or gender.

And he wasn’t about to ‘check,’ not when the gryphon had been wearing armor which indicated some form of intelligence.
And the possible voice I heard.

“Ok, bleeding stopped, now for these limbs,” he muttered, trying to recall his first responder training. “Just like when that BMX guy fell into a rocky field…”

Her right forelimb and left rear leg seemed twisted in-between the knee and elbow, and judging from the bite marks, it was no surprise as to what caused it. Using two large metal and foam splints, Jason bound each limb securely with plenty of padding, giving the creature a once over and trying to catch his breath.

“Oh, right…now the hard part.”

Retrieving some more bandages and duct tape, Jason carefully adjusted the gryphon’s jaw and beak into a more natural position. The poor thing had gotten quite a blow to the facial area, and it was unlikely they’d be making any noises other than soft gurgles or hisses. The top part of her beak was nearly cracked all the way through and was alarmingly loose. The jaw, thankfully, wasn’t broken in fact, but just severely bruised.

Some duct tape and splints later and he had secured the beak as best he could, only now leaning against the rooms center fire-finding station with a sight.

There was some scratching from outside, prompting the man to reach for the rifle that lay nearby with an annoyed scowl.

“Oh, I’ll get to you all in a minute,” he grunted, heaving the gryphoness into what was hopefully a comfortable position. “On second thought? You all can wait until the morning. Scratch to your hearts content.” Jason called out, prying open an ammo can and reloading the shotgun.

“I’ve got enough ammo for you and all of your friends. We can party for a good year if you want!”

A few frustrated howls were the wolves’ answer, the man then flopping down to lean against the bed across the room. His gaze drifted to the still-unconscious gryphoness, and the lookout’s head shook in wonder.
“Well, even if it’s simulation I got to see one of my favorite mythical creatures. That’s something,” he muttered, a familiar headache starting to pick at his temples.

“What should I call you? I don’t even know if you’re a male or female…or even use gender specific names,” the lookout mused, shrugging to himself. “I mean, I did ask for an angel- but this is not what I expected.” A soft laugh left his mouth, the man gesturing upwards.

“Assuming this gryphon doesn’t want to eat me, thanks! I think?” his gaze returned to the gryphoness. “Well, you’ve got grey and white feathers that fade in and out, and that black pattern around your face. Well, we’ll go with basic and hopefully not racist answer. Until you can understand me, Splotchy it is. Nice to meet you.”

The sleeping gryphon offered no argument, leaving the lookout to down another dose of pain medication along with a simple meal.

“I’d better get water boiling and filtered too. No idea if the stuff I have stored is toxic to you,” he mused, setting a camp stove aflame and getting things prepared for the next day when his new guest would hopefully wake up.

“Wood wolves and a gryphoness. What next? A talking minotaur in a hula skirt?” He then jabbed a finger upwards accusingly. “THAT is not a challenge, whoever up there is listening, aliens or otherwise!”

Author's Note:

Well, he DID ask for an angel*....
*Repairs needed

I had a survey on one of my other stories for who would be the most interesting candidate....and Gryphoness won by far!
I may, of course, also be slightly biased towards certain non-pony creatures *looks at other past stories*
Nah. Totally was the poll.