In the heart of the Australian Outback, there existed a legend whispered among the indigenous tribes: the tale of Outback’s Shadow, a monstrous kangaroo driven mad by the spirits of the land. According to legend, Outback’s Shadow was cursed for trespassing into sacred grounds, and ever since, it roamed the desolate plains, seeking vengeance on any who dared enter its domain. The story was dismissed as a mere folktale by most, but for those who lived near the Outback, it was a different matter entirely.
The small town of Dusty Creek was plagued by strange occurrences; livestock was found brutally mutilated, and eerie howls echoed through the night. People whispered that Outback’s Shadow was real, and it hungered for human flesh. One fateful evening, a group of adventurous tourists, drawn by the legend, ventured into the heart of the Outback. Among them was Sarah, a young woman with a penchant for the macabre.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group set up camp, oblivious to the danger lurking in the darkness. As the night wore on, the air grew thick with an otherworldly stillness. The crackling campfire is the only source of warmth and comfort in this vast expanse of wilderness. A blood-curdling screech shattered the silence, sending shivers down the spines of the campers. Terrified, they huddled together, their eyes scanning the inky blackness for any sign of movement. It was then they saw it: a pair of malevolent, glowing eyes fixated on them from the shadows. Outback’s Shadow had found its prey.
The creature emerged from the darkness, towering over the campers on hind legs, fur mottled and matted, its eyes burning with madness. Sarah and her companions recoiled in horror as Outback’s Shadow let out a guttural, unearthly growl. Driven by primal instinct, they scattered, but the kangaroo, fuelled by an insatiable bloodlust, pursued them relentlessly. One by one, it picked them off, tearing through flesh and bone with incredible savage ferocity. Sarah, her heart pounding in terror, found herself alone, the agonized screams of her friends echoing hauntingly in the night.
Desperate and on the brink of despair, Sarah stumbled upon a cave, its entrance shrouded in ominous shadows. With no other options, she sought refuge within, hoping to evade the ravenous creature stalking her. As she delved deeper into the cavern’s murky depths, she discovered a series of crude drawings etched onto the walls, depictions of a kangaroo, its eyes ablaze with malevolence, and scenes of carnage and suffering. It was then she realized the truth: Outback’s Shadow was no mere beast; it was a malevolent entity, a twisted spirit bound to the form of a kangaroo, cursed to wreak havoc upon any who dared encroach upon its domain. But before Sarah could process this revelation, she heard a guttural snarl emanating from the cave’s entrance. Outback’s Shadow had found her. In a frenzied panic, she stumbled deeper into the darkness, heart pounding deep in her chest. The walls seemed to close in around her, and the air grew thick with a palpable sense of dread. Sarah’s breath came in ragged gasps as she frantically sought a way out, but the labyrinthine passages seemed to twist and turn, leading her deeper into the heart of the cursed cavern.
The oppressive darkness enveloped her, and the walls seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. She stumbled into a chamber bathed in an eerie, ethereal glow. In the centre of the chamber, a gnarled tree stood, its twisted branches reaching toward the ceiling like skeletal fingers. As Sarah cautiously approached the tree, she noticed an ancient, weathered tome resting at its base. With trembling hands, she opened the book and began to decipher the cryptic text within its pages.
The tome spoke of an ancient ritual, a ritual that could break the curse binding Outback’s Shadow to the physical realm. Driven by a newfound sense of purpose, Sarah fervently studied the arcane instructions. The ritual required her to gather rare herbs and perform an intricate sequence of incantations at the exact stroke of midnight when the veil between the spirit world and the living world were thinnest. With the weight of the ancient tome in her hands, Sarah ventured deeper inside the cavern, determined to seek out the elusive herbs. Minutes stretched into hours as she scoured the subterranean passages, her senses honed to the slightest rustle or whisper that might lead to the ingredients she sought. As the midnight hour approached, Sarah emerged from the depths of the cave, clutching the precious herbs in her trembling hands.
With unwavering resolve, she returned to the gnarled tree and prepared to enact the ritual that could break the curse of Outback’s Shadow. The air crackled with otherworldly energy as Sarah meticulously followed the instructions, her voice infused with ancient power as she chanted sacred incantations. The very ground seemed to tremble when the ritual reached its crescendo, and the chamber became bathed in an ethereal glow. Suddenly, a bestial howl pierced the air, and Outback’s Shadow materialized before her, eyes ablaze with fury. But as the ritual neared completion, the creature’s form began to waver, its roars turning into anguished cries. With a final, resounding incantation, Sarah completed the ritual, and a blinding flash of light filled the chamber.
When the radiance subsided, Outback’s Shadow was gone, and the oppressive aura that before shrouded the cavern evaporated like mist in the morning sun. Exhausted but triumphant, Sarah emerged from the cave, the weight of the ancient tome still heavy in her hands. As the first light of dawn painted the horizon, she knew that she had broken the curse that had plagued the Outback for centuries. From that day forward, the legend of Outback’s Shadow faded into obscurity, and the cursed creature was never seen or heard from again.
Some whispered it had been banished to the spirit realm, while others believed it had found peace at last. For Sarah, the memories of that fateful night would forever linger, a testament to the inexplicable terrors lurking in the depths of the Outback. But she also carried with her the knowledge that even the most malevolent of spirits could be vanquished with courage, determination, and the enduring power of ancient magic.
Once upon a time, in a mystical ghostly land, there was a kingdom ruled by a wise and benevolent king. The kingdom was known for its enchanting beauty and vibrant culture. One of the most anticipated events of the year was the annual Absinthe Ball, a grand celebration where everyone would gather to dance, sing, and revel in the magic of the night. In this kingdom, there lived a young frog princess named Seraphina. Seraphina was not like other frogs. She possessed a unique beauty and a mesmerizing voice that captivated anyone who heard her sing. However, she was cursed by a wicked sorcerer and transformed into a frog. Despite her predicament, Seraphina remained hopeful that one day, a true love’s kiss would break the curse and restore her to her human form.
Meanwhile, in a smoky jazz club on the outskirts of the kingdom, there lived a talented frog blues singer named Felix. With his soulful voice and his skilful guitar playing, Felix could make the whole room sway with emotion. He had a reputation for singing songs that touched the depths of people’s hearts, and his music carried a hint of melancholy, reflecting the struggles he faced as a frog in a human-dominated world. As fate would have it, Seraphina and Felix’s paths crossed one moonlit night at the Absinthe Ball.
Seraphina, disguised as a common frog, hopped into the ballroom, drawn by the melodies that filled the air. She watched as Felix took the stage, his voice echoing through the hall, casting a spell over the entire audience. Captivated by Felix’s performance, Seraphina couldn’t resist joining in with her own melodious croak. The crowd was astonished by the harmony of their voices blending together, creating a magical duet that seemed to transcend the boundaries of their frog forms. The enchantment in the air was palpable as their voices intertwined, filling the ballroom with a sense of longing and hope. As the song came to an end, the room erupted in applause. Seraphina and Felix locked eyes, and at that moment, they knew that they had found something special. They spent the rest of the night talking and laughing, completely unaware of the world around them. It felt as if time stood still, and they were the only two beings in existence.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Seraphina and Felix’s bond grew stronger with each passing day. Together, they faced the challenges of being frogs in a human world, supporting and encouraging one another through their struggles. They never lost hope that one day, they would find a way to break their curses and live a life of freedom and love. Their dedication and unwavering belief in each other’s talents caught the attention of the kingdom’s wise king. Intrigued by their story, he summoned Seraphina and Felix to the royal palace. The king, moved by their love and talent, used his powers to break the curses that held them captive.
As the curses lifted, Seraphina and Felix were transformed into their true selves. Seraphina stood before the king as a beautiful princess, and Felix regained his human form, his blues singer persona shining through. The king blessed their union and declared a grand celebration in their honour. And so, the Absinthe Ball took on a whole new meaning. It became a symbol of love, hope, and the power of music to transcend boundaries. Seraphina and Felix, now free from their curses, stood hand in hand at the centre of the ballroom, surrounded by joyful revellers. The room was adorned with twinkling lights, and the air was filled with laughter and music. Seraphina’s voice soared through the hall, and Felix’s guitar strummed with passion, their music intertwining in perfect harmony.
As the night unfolded, their love story became an inspiration to all who witnessed it. The kingdom celebrated their union, and their tale of overcoming adversity spread far and wide, touching the hearts of people from distant lands. Seraphina and Felix continued to perform together, their music echoing through the kingdom, bringing joy and healing to all who listened. But amidst their newfound happiness, Seraphina and Felix never forgot the lessons they had learned. They remained humble and kind, using their talents to uplift others and spread love wherever they went. Their love story became a legend, whispered by storytellers and passed down through generations, reminding people of the transformative power of love and the magic that lies within us all. And so, the Absinthe Ball became an annual celebration of love, music, and the triumph of the human spirit. Each year, the kingdom would come alive with the enchanting melodies of Seraphina and Felix, their voices echoing through the night, reminding everyone that true love knows no boundaries and that dreams have the power to come true. And so, the frog princess and the frog blues singer lived happily ever after, their love story forever etched in the hearts and minds of the kingdom’s people. Their legacy was one of love, music, and the belief in the extraordinary things that can happen when two souls, against all odds, find each other in a world full of enchantment and ghostly possibility.
Once upon a time, in a vibrant forest where the sun danced through the leaves, there lived a dwarf named Grimbold and a pixie named Lirael. As children, they were inseparable, exploring hidden glades and sharing secrets among the ancient trees. Grimbold was stout and strong, with a heart as big as his beard, while Lirael was delicate and mischievous, her laughter ringing like chimes in the breeze. While playing near the enchanted brook one fateful day, a disagreement erupted over a game. Grimbold insisted on building a grand dam to catch fish, while Lirael wanted to let the water flow freely. Their argument escalated, and in a flurry of hurt feelings and sharp words, they parted ways, vowing never to speak to each other again.
Years passed, and the once-vibrant bond faded into silence. Grimbold threw himself into his work, crafting intricate tools and trinkets for the village. Lirael, on the other hand, flitted through the forest, her heart heavy with regret but too proud to reach out. The village felt the absence of their friendship; the laughter and joy they once shared were sorely missed. Then, one fateful afternoon, a dark shadow loomed over the forest. An ancient curse, long forgotten, threatened to engulf their village. The elders spoke in hushed tones, revealing that only a powerful spell, woven from the magic of earth and air, could save them. Grimbold’s strength and Lirael’s light were the keys. With the deadline of the impending disaster drawing near, Grimbold and Lirael found themselves at the same meeting. The tension in the air crackled as they exchanged glances, memories flooding back. Finally, Grimbold broke the silence.
“Lirael,” he said, his voice steady but trembling. “We need to talk.”
Lirael’s heart raced. “I know,” she replied softly, her wings shimmering with emotion. “I’ve missed you, Grimbold. I never wanted us to be apart.”
The weight of their years of silence hung between them, but the moment’s urgency pushed them to reconcile. They stepped outside, away from the watchful eyes of the villagers, and spoke of their childhood dreams, their regrets, and the bond that still lingered beneath the surface. As they renewed their friendship, they realized their differences strengthened them. Grimbold’s ingenuity and Lirael’s magic combined in a way they had never imagined. They devised a plan to harness the earth’s strength through Grimbold’s craftsmanship and Lirael’s ethereal energy.
On the night of the eclipse, when the curse was set to strike, they stood together at the edge of the village. Grimbold crafted a massive stone circle while Lirael danced above, weaving her sparkling magic into the air. As the moon cast its shadow, they combined their powers, and a radiant light burst forth, illuminating the darkness. The curse shattered, and the village was saved. The villagers rejoiced, and Grimbold and Lirael stood side by side, their hearts full. They had learned that true friendship could weather any storm, and their once-broken bond was now unbreakable. From that day forth, the dwarf and the pixie became legends in their village, not just for their bravery but for their strength in forgiveness and unity. And as the sun set behind the trees, Grimbold and Lirael knew they would never let silence come between them again.
A Poacher leaned against a sycamore tree, staring at an empty snare. Kneeling on the cold ground icy from a winter night, he picked up the empty snare examining it closely. Strands of hair and fur stained with blood stuck to it. No doubt in his mind, young sharp eyes scanned the forest left then right. There was nothing to be seen only leafless trees and shadows. Nothing unusual or untoward disturbed the end of night and the new day, excepting the distant bark of a fox echoing throughout the forest. Perhaps this vocal carnivore was the thief?
Evidence held firmly in icy fingers informed our poacher of a rabbit once caught now gone! Foxes often raided snares snatching the helpless victim but the disturbance on the ground and the fact this snare had been undone to release its prisoner, told him the fox was innocent of this crime. Gently our poacher’s icy fingers examined the ground where the snare lay throughout the night. Blood specks in frozen suspension were splattered across the snares residual image indented on the earth and moss. Slightly off to his right two large imprints of boots were clearly frozen into the moss. Similar prints faded on the frozen earth off to the left. Our poacher mused and muttered under icy breath.
“If the thief was that fox it was on two legs and wearing huge boots?”
Bare trees offered no shelter from the freezing January winds. Pulling a woolly muffler around his neck, shivering he got to his feet. Putting the empty snare in a bag hanging from his shoulder, sharp eyes took a last look at the scene in front of him. This was the seventh snare found empty this morning. Four yesterday suffered the same fate and a few more over previous weeks. Our poacher was being poached!
Spitting on the ground he cursed under frozen breath and turned towards home with an empty bag. There would be no rabbit stew today. Heading for Penygraig Farm he trudged through the forest and down the mountainside. A thin layer of snow covered everything as far as the eye could see. The sun was starting to rise but the cold perished our poacher to the very core of his bones, adding to an increasing sense of anger and frustration invading every cell. He knew somebody must have been following him and springing the snares, but who was it? He was angry, very angry. As the morning mists began to lift from the trees our poacher, Dai Davies walked through the farm gate. Jenkins and Big John were eating breakfast when the door opened with an urgent creak on rusty hinges, heralding gusts of freezing cold morning air. Their little brother Dai Davies stood in the doorway.
“Shut the bloody door Dai!”
Jenkins spluttered crumbs across the breakfast table. Dai slammed the door shut but caught his hand on the handle creating searing pain in freezing fingers still numb from nocturnal poaching. Dai swore under his breath and kicked the door in return for this assault upon his person.
“Take it easy Dai Bach, too early for temper!”
Big John poured steaming water into a teapot, stirring tea leaves before replacing the lid and putting the kettle back on the fire.
“It’s happened again!” said Dai. “Seven empty this morning, seven!”
Dai roughly pulled off his overcoat and threw it onto a chair in the corner.
“Somebody’s bloody following you Bach. They know where your snares are before you get the chance to see if they are full. It’s the ghost of a poacher!”
Jenkins laughed loudly spitting crumbs and choking on his own joke. Big John looked at Jenkins with kind eyes and smiling said.
“Leave him alone you silly bugger!” He leaned forward across the table and helped himself to more bread from the half eaten loaf sitting on the table. “Ave to be a ghost to follow our Dai wouldn’t it Jenkins and a bloody clever one at that, blooming ghosties eh?”
Big John joined in with the good hearted banter adding much to Dai’s frustration. Dai did not and could not find anything funny about this, there was nothing to laugh about. His elder brothers often made a joke of him but they never meant any harm and were always helpful and protective.
“I know who it is see!”
Dai pulled a chair beneath his legs and sat down with his brothers.
“Ave some tea lad!” Big John passed a mug of strong steaming tea to his little brother. Dai picked up the mug warming his still icy hands.
“Only person it could be see!” he sipped at the hot tea. “It’s that bloody Morgan Lewis, that’s who it is. Great lump of a thieving double crossing bastard!” He sipped more tea.
“Don’t be daft Dai you have an agreement with him! Why would he do something like this?” Jenkins bit off a large piece of bread, gulping steaming tea from his mug.
Dai dribbled tea from the side of his mouth as he rushed to answer.
“Cos I tell you he’s a greedy bugger that’s why! He is a greedy fat bugger.”
Big John looked sternly at Dai putting his mug down on the table with a thump.
“Slow down now, you can’t go making accusations against him you daft badger.”
Big John nicknamed Dai, ‘Badger’ as a family pet name when they found him playing with a baby badger as a little boy. He had a way with animals did Dai whether it was raising or catching them. Dai coughed and added.
“He told me he wanted more money see and I told him to get lost in a coal mine!”
Dai drained his mug dry. “He said if I didn’t, I would live to regret I had ever been born!”
He put his mug down on the table with a thud. Big John poured them more tea and looked seriously at his brothers.
“You never said anything about that Bach. You are both bloody thieves in the eyes of the law but he should not be doing this. It’s not right is it Jenkins?”
“He’s got a big slab of blue stone on his shoulders he has!” Jenkins stood turning to face his younger brother. “You don’t want to be fighting with him Bach, he’s a beast of a man.
Why do you think his mightiness Gough employs him? To sort bloody poachers out that’s why I can tell you!”
“I’ll fight me own battles!” retaliated Dai “He don’t scare me. The bigger they stand the harder they fall.”
Coughing with a chesty roar Dai gathered phlegm from his throat to share on the open fire, hissing as flames from the burning coals evaporated it on contact. Jenkins leaned down toward his brother and in a playful but strong manner, gently lifted Dai from the chair by the lapels of his jacket.
“He’ll bloody kill you, how many more times?”
He spat in the fire too but residue dribbled on his unshaven chin and hung limply from dark whiskers.
“Get off me you daft bugger!”
Dai struggled to get free from the mighty grip of his brothers monstrous hands, gnarled and worn by nearly forty years in the pit, man and boy. Jenkins firmly put his little struggling brother back on the chair with the same ease with which he lifted him. In two great strides Jenkins stood by the closed door and forced his muscular frame into a coat at least two sizes too small for him. His long arms stuck through the sleeves and two hairy wrists dangled hands of a hardworking man, now wrapping a big muffler around his neck.
“Well you think on, he’s a nasty piece of work, everybody knows it to be true. Why do you think he’s always drinking alone in the Miners Arms? No bugger trusts him!” Jenkins moved towards the door. “I’m off to work. Now you be bloody careful do you hear? Tell him John?”
John smiled at his brother with a look of reassurance. Jenkins grunted, the door opened and he was standing in the doorway as cold air glanced through the kitchen sending shivers through their bones.
“Shut the bloody door Jenkins”
Big John roared at his brother then burst out laughing as Jenkins hanging muffler trapped itself in the closed door with him on the other side. As the door opened a half choked Jenkins pulled at his muffler, grunted again and slammed the door behind him.
“Now listen to me Dai?” Big John leaned across the table taking Dai’s hand in his. “We have got to talk about this, that big bugger Lewis can get you into a wagon load of trouble.”
Dai shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. He was very short compared to his brothers who both towered above him dwarfing the five foot seven inches of this Welsh terrier. Dai worked in the Iron works since the age of nine and was very strong for one so small. But all the cold and damp left him with a very weak chest and in real terms, he was quite frail compared with Jenkins and Big John. Over the last couple of years Dai developed an annoying cough that irritated him. Often the coughing would hurt his chest and on a couple of occasions he spat blood from his lungs.
“You are not as strong as he is now are you Dai and look at the bloody size of him compared to you?” Big John smiled.
“I don’t care I’m not going to be pushed around by him. He’s broken his word and bond he has. He has lied to me and expects me just to lay down like a sheep and let him trample me into the earth. Well I won’t see, I bloody won’t!” Dai wiped a tear from his eye.
“All is not right Dai! Calm down now will you?” Big John placed a calming hand on his brother’s arm.
Dai started to cough again and fought to get his breath. His big brothers always protected him and although on many occasions this had been a welcome intercession, there were times such as this one, when he resented their interference. At twenty three he was a man and it was he who was popular in the village, it was he who had many friends. His skills as a poacher and an integrity rarely found, earned him much respect in the village and beyond. Morgan Lewis was well known for his foul temper and quick fists as far away as Brecon. Pushing the chair beneath him it scraped noisily on the floor as Dai stood up and leaned across the table staring intently into Big John’s eyes. He moved from one leg to the other moving his weight and pumping himself up, he said.
“I will have him John!” He coughed again and spluttered. “I know it’s him and I’ll bloody do for him see, I will!”
“You have got to calm down boy?” Big John gripped his younger brother’s arm firmly. “Now you still don’t know for sure yet, you don’t. You have to be sure Dai, you have to be!”
Trying to calm his brother down Big John gripped harder. “Dai!”
The tone of his voice spoke volumes of unspoken warnings that Dai did not want to hear. His voice calmed a little and under garbled breath he muttered.
“I do know, I do!”
Big John stood up from the table relaxing his grip. Beginning to gather up the dirty breakfast plates a mug slipped from his huge hand and crashed to the floor shattering into pieces.
“Bugger!”
He clumsily clattered the dishes into a porcelain sink.
“I’ll have to get that later or we will be late for work. Come on Dai we had better shift our boots.”
Dai stood up quickly accidentally knocking the chair over and swore under his breath.
“Look at us both Dai all fingers and thumbs. I think us both better calm ourselves.”
Dai picked up their mufflers throwing Big John’s towards him saying.
“I’ll sort this later!”
He garbled something else under his breath but it evaporated into the cold air as he opened the door.
“For the sake of peace Dai will you let it drop?”
Big John was well known to be a good natured man who would take an age to reach anger. But when he did, a volcano erupted. Little brother Dai certainly continued to push his brother, there was no doubt about that. Big John was flustered but he was a man of great self-control and he loved his little brother. He also understood the gravity of this mess and he held great fears about Morgan Lewis. As an Under-gamekeeper for the Gough Estates he wielded a lot of power. If Morgan had a mind, he could make life very difficult for Dai and the family. Penygraig Farm was part of Gough’s estate and in essence their landlord. But he knew the big man was more likely to thrash Dai soundly rather than bring any kind of legal action against him for poaching. After all they were in cahoots with each other, they were both breaking the law. Morgan Lewis would not want to be found out because losing his job and home would be the least of his troubles. He could be transported to Australia or worse still, hang!
Big John closed the door behind him and within a couple of huge strides, was walking down the mountain with Dai towards the Iron Works. The ironworks is a hell where they slaved for twelve hours in searing heat six days a week for most of the year. This was the only time when the Iron works offered advantages to its employees, shelter from the icy winter of 1850.
“Twelve hours it is then Bach, still warmer there in that hell than at home eh?” He slapped Dai playfully on his back. “It will be bloody scalding.”
Dai was still incensed by his obsession with Morgan Lewis. Big John took his arm from around Dai’s shoulder and cuffed him playfully on the back of his head.
Once upon a time, in a mystical forest hidden deep within the heart of an enchanted land, there lived two identical twin girls who were unlike any other fairies in the realm. These mischievous sisters, Lily and Rose, were known for their playful antics and boundless love for all creatures, big and small. Lily and Rose had a special connection beyond their physical resemblance from the moment they were born. Their laughter echoed through the forest, filling the air with joy and warmth. But it was their mischievous nature that truly set them apart from the other fairies. While most fairies were known for their gentle and kind-hearted ways, Lily and Rose had a penchant for pranks and tricks that kept the forest creatures on their toes. Despite their mischievous ways, Lily and Rose had hearts as pure as the morning dew. They often spent their days frolicking through the forest, spreading love and laughter wherever they went. Whether helping a lost squirrel find its way home or playing a trick on a grumpy old owl to make him smile, the twins’ kindness knew no bounds. One day, a terrible darkness began to spread across the land, casting a shadow over the once vibrant and lively forest. Creatures began to disappear, and the once cheerful songs of the birds fell silent. Lily and Rose knew they had to do something to save their beloved home. With their mischievous minds and loving hearts, the twins set out to defeat the darkness that threatened to consume the forest. They used their tricks and pranks to outsmart the evil forces, all the while spreading love and joy to those in need. Slowly but surely, the darkness began to recede, and the forest came back to life once more. Ultimately, it was not their clever tricks or mischievous pranks that saved the day but their boundless love for all creatures.
Lily and Rose’s kindness and compassion had touched the hearts of even the darkest beings, turning them back to the light. And so, the mischievous fairies became heroes of the forest, and their stories passed down through the generations as a reminder of the power of love and kindness. Lily and Rose continued to spread joy and laughter wherever they went, their mischievous ways tempered by the wisdom they had gained on their grand adventure. And so, the tale of the identical twin girls, the naughty impish fairies who loved everyone, became a legend in the enchanted land, a story of hope, love, and the magic of two hearts beating as one.
The Lilver Parkes Twins – are real people, and the story is dedicated to their enormous hearts and beauty
Lazarus Carpenter - Author 