• She leaned against an old oak and felt the pages between her fingertips. Her feet were bare and she could feel the energy of the forest flowing from her feet through her body to her fingertips. She shivered with excitement as the energy surged to its peak and let her hands run free with the ballpoint pen she kept close in case of inspiration. She was so enveloped in writing her poetry, she did not notice the man in a flannel shirt holding a cross bow creeping up from the shrubs behind her, silently mouthing "Death to the dark one!" over and over. The man crouched down as silently as a cat and loaded his bow; before she even knew he was there he fired a single arrow straight into her back. Triumphantly the man stood up and hooted and hollered and did a little victory jig were he stood, before he noticed that the arrow had fallen harmlessly to the ground, and had not even penetrated the muse. "It's as if there was some kind of dark force field!" the man thought as he struggled to pick up and reload his crossbow, his hands fumbling with the mechanism. The girl turned to the pale, shaking man with fire in her ruby eyes. "You made me lose my train of thought!" She growled through gritted teeth. When she looked at him dead on the man noticed the pointed ears sticking out from within her choppy black hair giving her an even more elven and mystical appearance. He also noticed that the fire in her eyes was real, and burning! He turned from side to side desperate for some kind of escape from the approaching demon but the fires from her eyes had set the brush around him on fire. He had backed himself against a tree, and was now utterly at the mercy of the enraged poet. He also realized; feeling his stomach drop like a rock, that though he had somehow in his hast set the cross bow mechanism, he had in fear, backed up too far away from the arrows; which lay uselessly by the flaming woman's feet. The man started to whimper and shrink away as she marched forward fangs bared and eyes glowing with the fires of hell. Suddenly a shadow appeared behind her, like her guardian spirit; only far from the kindly benevolent spirits the man had heard about the giant black shadow radiated evil and had its master's red demon eyes. Just being in its presence made the man dizzy and weak, were it not for the fear keeping him awake the man would have been more than happy to pass out, and hope this was all just a vivid nightmare. But no, the shadow creature opened its great mouth and blew stinking fog that smelled of decay and death on to the petrified man. In perfect unison, the deep husky voice of the monster shadow, and the crisp clear soprano of the writing girl merged in one harsh demand of the frightened man "Run for your life."
    The fires to the man's right extinguished, and the man looked incredulously to the demon pair. Could it be true, was he off the hook that easy?
    But the pair said nothing; they only mirrored each other's sly, knowing smiles. The man picked up his bow and ran, abandoning his arrows and screaming like a lunatic through the charred brush.
    "Aha," The shadow laughed in a raspy voice. “I do love the chase."
    The poet smiled stroking the demons long scaly neck. "Don't I know it?"
    Then they both disappeared into the thick impassable forest vegetation, eager to head off their prey.