Green by: Gencie Salter

Author’s Note: Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. I’ll translate the Kiswahili at the end of the story.

"Gargoyles" characters are owned by Disney, all original characters belong to me.

This is my first Katgoyle’s fan-fic. "Katgoyles" belong to the Katgoyles Clan, led by Kenza.

A big "Habari!" goes out to my clan, without whom I would not have an outlet for my psychotic, hyper behavior.

*****

"When we are green, still half-created, we believe that our dreams are rights, that the world is disposed to act in our best interests, and that falling and dying are for quitters. We live on the innocent and monstrous assurance that we alone, of all people ever born, have a special arrangement whereby we will be allowed to stay green forever." – From "This Boy’s Life" by Tobias Wolff

*****

Green

*****

September 3, 1999 (Present):

A monstrous, cat-like screech made Dr. Anton Sevarius’ head jerk upwards from his work. He sighed and closed the journal firmly, then stood and headed toward the door. He placed his hand on the knob for a moment then turned away and grabbed a dart gun from the cabinet before leaving the room.

It was late, a little past midnight, and even Sevarius was tired. His current project, intriguing as it was, took all of his time. The blood work-up alone was enough to keep him occupied for weeks on end. And now, when he was so close to the answer, so close to this new breakthrough in human genetics, his young subject was deciding to make his work more difficult.

He heard the screech again. Not quite as convincing as a normal gargoyle roar, but impressive nonetheless. He rounded a corner and entered the lab. Just as he suspected. Three of the men he had hired to protect his interests were out cold on the floor. As he watched, the fourth was thrown headfirst out of the closed window.

Slowly, carefully, Sevarius lifted the gun. A soft piff sound followed by a dull thud, as the dart hit its mark. The target cried out, a low, despondent sound, before leaping from the window. The fact that the lab was on the third story did not seem to matter as the project spread its wings and glided away. Sevarius walked to the window and stared out at the rapidly retreating figure.

The doctor sighed and shook his head as he turned to look upon the sorry waste of human flesh that was his security team. Sevarius winced at the crackling sound of broken glass underneath his feet. That would need fixing, and the men could always be replaced. He sighed again.

"Good help really is so hard to find these days." He said.

He picked up the gun where it lay on a still upright table. His eyes drifted idly past the label as he headed toward the door. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and stared back down at the gun. He proceeded to groan and roll his eyes.

"Oh, no. Not again. As if there already weren’t enough of the little pests."

There, in plain, black type, were the letters: METAMORPHOSIS. Sevarius uttered some choice words under his breath and threw the gun on the floor. All his precious work, for nothing! All that magnificent DNA, the wonders he could have worked! All gone. And all because he had been too hasty. Too concerned with keeping the subject in his grasp to worry about whether he held a tranquilizer gun, or that damn mutagenic formula!

Sevarius was still angrily shaking his head when he walked back to his office, when he once again began pouring over his notes, and when the security squad he hired had returned with the news that the subject could not be found. Sevarius groaned. Some days it just wasn’t worth it to crawl out from under that rock.

*****

September 14, 1987:

The small child watched with wide eyes as the sun sank slowly beneath the horizon. Fascinating as it was, she still turned her face toward the village, bathed in red-orange glow, to watch as the villagers quickly rounded up children and beasts alike. A crackling sound brought the girl’s attention back to the stone statue she was standing beside. She stepped back as stone chips went flying. The now living statue gave a monstrous roar, stretching it’s arms, wings, and tail in all directions. It’s gigantic mouth opened in a yawn, showing a massive array of pointed teeth. The creature finished stretching and turned it’s attention to the child.

"Hello, my little kibibi. How are you this evening?" The male creature smiled and scooped the young one up in his arms. He swung her around in the air and laughed as she squealed in delight and spread her black, bat-like wings. He stopped swinging and drew her into a hug, brushing his knuckles against the row of tiny ridges on her brow.

"Sijambo, baba! I saw the most wonderful thing today!"

Kubwa smiled at his daughter. The hatchling then launched into a vivid account of the day’s events as they walked back to the village.

Sarah glanced up from the washbasin at the approaching figures. She smiled, dropped the dirty clothes in the water, and threw herself at Kubwa. The large, tawny-brown male swooped her up in his arms and swung her through the air.

"Habari, mpenzi! Hujambo?"

Sarah laughed and kissed him. "I’m wonderful, my love, now that you’re here."

He released her almost regretfully and turned to scoop up his daughter, tucking her gently under his wing. The child chattered constantly.

"Guess what, mama! I saw a baby tembo today! He was so tiny! And his ears were HUGE and they flapped back and forth, and then his mama came and she was giving him a bath with her truck and…"

Sarah shook her head at the little girl. "Jyncie, mwanangu, you can tell me about it later, okay? Do you remember what you were supposed to do today?"

The little girl looked confused for a moment, chewing on her fingertip. Then her eyes lit up with realization.

"Oh! I’m sorry, mama. I was on my way to the market, but then I saw a little kima, and he was so cute, and I followed him up the tree and…and then I just sort of um…forgot."

Kubwa laughed at the wearied expression on his mate’s face. He smiled at her as he ruffled his daughter’s long, black hair.

"Don’t worry, mpenzi, she’ll grow out of it." He set Jyncie on the ground and crouched down beside her. "Besides, Jyncie and I have other things to do tonight."

Jyncie’s eyes lit up and she began to jump up and down, squealing and clapping. "Really, daddy! Can we, can we, can we?!"

Kubwa tweaked her pointed ears and glanced up at Sarah. Her face had softened and now her eyes sparkled as she nodded.

"All right, go ahead." She said. Jyncie squealed again as her father scooped her up and headed for a tall outcropping of rocks.

"Hey, be back in time for dinner!" Sarah yelled after them. Kubwa smiled and waved.

Sarah watched a few minutes longer as her husband climbed the rocks with Jyncie tucked safely under his arm. In a few minutes he was airborne, spreading his huge, bat-like wings. His mohawk of ebony hair streamed out behind him, mingling with the inky darkness of his wings. Jyncie was still squealing in delight, her raven hair cascading down her back like a dark waterfall. She looked so much like her father. Sarah’s eyes followed the figures as Kubwa turned Jyncie around and tossed her into the air. As always, Sarah’s heart skipped a beat until once again her daughter opened her wings and began to soar beside her father. Sarah released the breath that she was unaware she was holding and turned to finish the laundry.

*****

Present:

The dark-haired female felt her feet slip out from under her as she crash-landed on the roof of a building. She tucked her wings to avoid injury and rolled several feet before coming to a stop in an inverted heap against a chimney. Gasping for breath, she leapt to her feet as best as she could and half spread her wings, wincing in pain as the muscles strained against her efforts. Her eyes were wild, terrified as she scanned the skies.

She stood that way for half an hour, watching, waiting. Finally it began to rain. Her long, black hair, normally in the shape of a something resembling a mohawk with the middle left long and the sides shaved, was plastered to her head in two minutes. After five minutes the thin medical gown she wore was soaked through. Five minutes after that she began to shiver. Still she looked to the skies, scanning the horizon and bracing herself for the worst.

The sound of a siren broke her concentration. Her eyes flickered briefly as realization sank in. He wasn’t coming. She was free. Free! She let out a sharp laugh, causing her chest to heave and stretching her aching ribs and wings. Her breath came in sharp gasps for the next couple of minutes. Eventually the fit subsided and she looked down at herself.

"Ala! Mvua inanyesha! Great, now I look like a drowned rat." She muttered. Her pointed ears quivered at the harsh sound of her own voice. It had been a while since she’d used it. She shook as much water as she could off her body and spread her wings. It had been a long night, and a grueling journey, but now she needed a warm place to rest and recuperate.

She glided as far away from the laboratory as she could possibly get. On the way, she passed an old apartment building with laundry hanging on a line that was sheltered from the downpour by a protruding awning. Her landing was slightly better this time, but she still had to squeeze herself into a corner to avoid being seen by the apartment’s inhabitants after she accidentally kicked over an empty can of catfood.

She relieved the people of a pair of baggy, black jeans, a copper halter-top, and a brown, flannel shirt. She dressed quickly, threading her wings through the halter then wrapping them around her middle to slip into the shirt. She parted her wet hair down the middle and spread it to either side of her head, covering her ears. With the edge of her sleeve she rubbed a clean spot on a nearby window and checked her reflection. Once she was satisfied that everything was adequately hidden, she began to climb down the fire escape. When she reached the street she glanced quickly around, pulled the collar of the shirt up around her ears and headed south.

*****

Somewhere near Central Park:

Brooklyn was bored. Bored and wet. Bored and wet and cold.

"Goliath, you are one sadistic gargoyle." He muttered under his breath. Why he was patrolling Central Park in the middle of the night in the pouring rain, he had no idea. As he was contemplating calling it a night, suddenly, a dark form loomed above him. Cursing, he folded his wings and dove, slaloming through the trees. He sensed the figure closing on him and angled his wings forward, dropping abruptly and slowing himself so that whoever was chasing him flew right by. The tactic worked and Brooklyn pistoned his feet downward, hitting his pursuer between the shoulder blades. His feet met a wet pelt of fur, and the wet pelt of fur began to yell at him.

"Hey, what’s the big idea?!"

Brooklyn blinked rain drops out of his eyes and stared down.

"Oh, hi Talon." He grinned at the mutate. "Sorry. You know you really should learn not to sneak up on a guy like that. You could get hurt."

Talon muttered something that sounded quite obscene under his breath and swooped up to fly beside Brooklyn. The gargoyle and the mutate spent several minutes jumping from brief conversation to comfortable silence and back again.

"So, Talon, what are you doing out and about? Keeping tabs on the clan to make sure we’re doing our jobs?" Brooklyn asked. Talon chuckled.

"Actually," He said. "I had to get out of the Labyrinth before Maggie started flinging the good china at me."

Brooklyn gave him a quizzical look. "You and Maggie are fighting?"

Talon sighed and nodded. "I think she’s starting to feel a little cooped up. The Labyrinth has been pretty quite for a while, so there’s not a lot for her to do."

"She doesn’t feel like she’s needed for anything."

Talon looked at the red gargoyle through narrowed eyes. "You know something I don’t?" Brooklyn just smiled.

"Let’s just say, I may be single but I still know a thing or two about females." He turned on a wingtip and aimed them back toward the park. "Can I give you a piece of advice?"

Talon nodded. "Shoot."

"Okay, first of all, all females everywhere have an instinctual desire to nest."

"Nest?"

"Yeah, nest. You know, the maternal instinct thing."

"Ah, I see." Talon said. "You’re saying Maggie needs someone to mother."

"Kinda. Basically I think she’s reached a point in her life where she needs something more than just cooking and cleaning for you and taking care of the people in the Labyrinth."

Talon looked pained then, and flinched as if bracing himself for a blow he knew was coming.

"Face it, Talon, sooner or later you’re gonna have to commit." Brooklyn grinned at the reaction that comment got. Talon tucked his wings and fell a few feet, his fist clenched to his chest as if he’d been shot. Brooklyn laughed and followed him. A tussling match ensued as each male tried to out-pain the other with threats related to the old ball and chain.

Finally, the two calmed down a bit and Brooklyn decided that the patrol was pretty much over.

"Hey, did you hear that?" Talon asked. Brooklyn paused and listened.

"Hear what?"

Talon’s ears twitched. "Huh. I thought I heard something. Ah, well, probably just my imagination."

Brooklyn shrugged and they turned to head back to the castle. Suddenly, Brooklyn’s eyes went wide.

"Talon, look!"

The mutate’s gaze followed Brooklyn’s finger and he gasped at what he saw.

*****

In the past couple of hours she had begun to feel very ill. Now, in the middle of a gigantic park, it was all she could do to keep walking. She had no idea where she was. Finally, exhaustion claimed her and she sank to the ground underneath a tree. Her skin itched and felt like it was on fire. She shucked the flannel shirt in a feeble attempt to quell the heat in her chest. A low moan escaped her throat. ‘What is wrong with me?’ She thought.

A searing pain ripped through her body. The sharp snap of bones cracking drew her attention to her legs. Somehow, in the past few minutes, her feet had grown. Now they were becoming arched, the toes disappearing and being replaced by sharp talons. Her hands underwent a similar transformation. She screamed as the transformation accelerated. Now fur began to grow over her skin, her teeth grew and sharpened to points. She reached a weak hand up to her ears. Gone were the pointed ones she was used to. Now she ran her taloned fingers over the rounded, seemingly cat-like ears.

Unaware that she was still crying out in pain, she began lurching along the ground. Now she was aware of the furry tail dragging behind her. She made it as far as a park bench before she passed out.

*****

His first thought was that it was another mutate. As he and Talon landed beside the park bench, Brooklyn began to dismiss his previous assumption. The presence of yellowish-brown fur sparsely covered with black spots and a long, fluffy tail made the female figure look like another of Sevarius’ creations. Yet she lacked the feline features on her face that Talon and the other mutates had. Brooklyn leaned closer to examine the bat-like wings, the insides the same color as her fur and the outsides black, each with the same little ‘hands’ on the elbow spurs as he had on his. The mutates’ wings were shaped completely different.

"So what are you thinking?" Talon asked. Brooklyn gently brushed a wet lock of hair off the female’s forehead, revealing a small row of tiny ridges on her brow.

"I think she’s a gargoyle." He said. The large mutate looked skeptical.

"Are you sure? ‘Cause she looks like another of Sevarius’ creations to me." He ground out the scientist’s name through clenched teeth. "Look at that fur. I’ve never seen a furry gargoyle before."

Brooklyn nodded, then pointed out the wings and brow ridges. "All gargoyles look different. Goliath said that there’s one in London who looks like a lion. And besides, look at her face. She doesn’t look like a cat like you and the others. She looks almost…human."

And she did. Save for the black lines beginning under her eyes, trailing down the sides of her nose, and ending at the corners of her mouth, her face was remarkably human-like.

"Tearlines." Talon called them. "Cheetahs have them. Mom took the family to Nigeria once and we saw one."

"So that’s what she looks like? A cheetah?" Brooklyn asked.

"Yeah." Talon looked at him strangely. "You mean you’ve never seen a cheetah before?"

"Hey, man, are there are cheetahs in Scotland?"

"No."

"Are there cheetahs in Manhattan."

"No. I see your point." Talon smiled and looked down at the figure on the bench. "What should we do with her?"

Brooklyn thought for a moment. "Let’s take her back to the castle. If she is a gargoyle then Goliath’s going to want to know about her."

Talon nodded and carefully lifted the unconscious female into his arms. Brooklyn scaled a tree while Talon walked to nearby bridge where he could get enough lift to take to the air. He noticed by the claw marks on the railing that some of the gargoyles must have done the same when they were carrying Bronx. He jumped and, with a few strong flaps of his wings, Talon took to air and began to follow Brooklyn to the Eyrie building.

*****

October, 15, 1993:

She was standing on crest of a ridge, overlooking the tiny village. A crowd of foreigners, led by a skinny, preaching man, was advancing on a small hut at the edge of town. She could hear the angry shouts of the crowd mingled with the angry shouts of some of the villagers, most notably her mother. Now the girl saw her. Standing tall in front of the cluster of rocks beside the house, her golden blond hair swirling around her head, her sharp blue eyes burning with anger as she shouted at the crowd.

The preacher-man pushed past her, pointing at the rocks. He was yelling angry words and waving his arms about. The young girl could not hear what was being said, but she could see perfectly the reaction he was having on the crowd. One of the villagers, an older man who had been teaching her how to shoot a bow, pushed his way to the front of the crowd and stood between them and the rock outcropping. The crowd grew angry. They lifted their sticks, their clubs, their rocks. The elder was the first to go down, screaming. The preacher-man lifted the sledgehammer and stepped aside to show the others, and the child as well, what was barely concealed by the rocks. The stone form of a gargoyle.

Then, as Kubwa’s only child watched, the man brought the sledgehammer down and smashed the gargoyle to pieces. Jyncie’s scream was drowned out by the scream of her mother. Sarah threw her self at the preacher, biting and kicking and screaming at him. He angrily threw her off. She collapsed beside the crushed form of her mate and began to sob, but the preacher was not finished yet. This time Jyncie’s horrified screams were heard as the crowd began hurling rocks at the sobbing Sarah. A large chunk hit her in the side of the head and she went down, and didn’t get up. Even from a distance, Jyncie could see the pool of dark liquid forming under her mother.

She didn’t notice when she jumped from the cliff, didn’t notice the surprised shouts of the crowd as they pointed up at her. Jyncie nocked, drew, and fired before she was even aware she still held the hunting bow in her hand. Forgotten was the small rabbit she had hoped to bring home for dinner. The playful day in the sunshine seemed miles away.

The arrow pierced the preacher’s temple and sent him reeling backwards. The crowd seemed to leap, as one, at her assault. Some ran screaming. Others wielded their weapons, the same weapons used to murder her parents, and attacked her. She nocked her arrow and drew again, and again, and again, firing endlessly into the crowd. Men and women alike, young and old, all fell to her merciless onslaught. By human count she was only twelve years of age, a child still. But twelve years out of the egg was plenty of time for a gargoyle to learn the basics of being a warrior. And the exhilaration of revenge. Those who survived the massacre would speak later in rushed, fearful voices of the demon spawn with burning, orange eyes that fell from the sky, shrieking in rage.

Soon the crowd was sufficiently dispersed and Jyncie swooped down, landing beside the battered and broken form of her mother. Her beautiful mother with hair the color of gold that was now red with blood. Her skin was pale as parchment, her lovely face marred by ugly cuts and bruises. And beside her, a pile of shattered stone that had once held Jyncie high and swung her about, laughing at the way she squealed and reflexively flung out her wings.

A low moan attracted the child’s attention. She crawled over to where the old villager lay.

"Shikamoo, jumbe!"

The elder slowly opened his eyes. "Marahabaa, Jyncie. Mwenzangu, Kubwa?" He asked. Jyncie shook her head as tears flowed freely from her eyes and down the sides of her nose.

"He is dead, jumbe. Mother also."

"Lo! Pole sana!" The old man cried. He sniffed and opened his mouth to say something else. Jyncie shook her head.

"Wait, jumbe. I must tell you. I…I…"

Her elder smiled. "I know, young malaika, I know." Jyncie’s tears flowed freely now. Her shoulders shook as she bowed her head in shame. The old man clasped her hand in his.

"Fear not, angel child. You did what was needed. Una nakama, your parents have been avenged. Koya, Jyncie, for you are alive. That is all your parents would have wanted." The young girl felt his grip on her hand loosening. She looked up in horror as his eyes began to close.

"Jumbe? Jumbe, unakwenda wapi?"

"Ninasafiri, malaika. I have to go away now. Be well, child." Slowly, the elder’s eyes closed and his chest stopped the steady rise and fall of life.

"No, jumbe! Please do not leave me!" Jyncie cried. "Jumbe!"

The child glanced around her, desperately searching for someone, anyone.

"Nisaidie, tafadhali!" She yelled. "Please, somebody!" Jyncie bowed her head and sniffed, tears streaming down her small face. She whispered.

"Anybody. Help…"

*****

"Goliath, she’s waking up!"

The lavender gargoyle looked up from his book at his daughter. He got up and followed Angela to the infirmary where the rest of the clan was clustered around the new arrival. Brooklyn seemed especially fascinated by her. Talon stood off to the side with Elisa beside him. The gargoyle leader shared a brief, warm glance with Elisa before turning his attention to the female gargoyle on the medical bed. Angela was right, she was indeed waking up. Slowly at first, her ears and nose twitching. Suddenly, her eyes flew wide open and she stared up at them.

"Ajabu! Umetokea wapi?" The gargoyles stared at her.

"What did she say?" Brooklyn asked. The female’s mouth dropped open.

"Gargoyles! I don’t believe it! After all this time!" The cheetah-like gargoyle tried to stand up. It was then that she seemed to notice herself.

"Nani?! Vipi?!" She screamed. The gargoyles were confused as they tried to calm her. "What’s happened to me?!" She cried.

"What is she talking about?" Lex whispered to Broadway.

"You got me."

The new gargoyle continued to screech until Talon crept up behind her. He grabbed her around the waist and wrapped his wings around her. After a few minutes of struggling and muffled screaming, she finally calmed down enough for Talon to let her go. Breathing heavily, she sat on the end of the bed and stared down at herself. Finally she spoke. Just one word, but it made the hair on the back of everyone’s neck stand on end and Talon growled low in his throat.

"Sevarius!"

The clan’s assurances that Sevarius was their enemy as well, and would not find her at the castle, seemed to put their visitor somewhat at ease.

"My name is Jyncie. I come from Kenya." She said as she placed the cup of water back on the table. Before her was a bowl of soup and a roll, which Broadway had retrieved from the kitchen to replenish her strength. They allowed her time to eat as she told her tale, though Goliath kept his fists clenched in anticipation and Brooklyn’s tail was twitching uncontrollably on the floor.

"Forgive me, lass." Hudson said. "But ye were talking up a storm earlier, yet I couldna’ understand a word ye were sayin’. I’ve never heard speech like that before."

Jyncie smiled. "In Kenya, many languages are spoken. It is the same in most of Africa. The language I was speaking is Kiswahili. That’s Swahili to you Americans. I’m sorry if I confused you, but I’m not used to speaking only in English."

"So, you were human?" Lex asked.

Jyncie hesitated, her eyes glued on her food. Should she tell them? Would they understand? How would they react? The cheetah mutate flinched involuntarily. More precisely, what would they do to her when they found out?

Slowly, Jyncie raised her head to face the clan. They were staring at her, awaiting her response. She took a deep breath.

"Yes, I was human."

Talon’s posture straightened while Brooklyn’s tail twitched. The unconscious movement was lost on everyone except the two of them. They relaxed guiltily, remembering that they were not in competition with each other.

Goliath and Hudson exchanged a suspicious look. Jyncie sucked in a nervous breath. They knew more than they were letting on. Goliath sighed and pointed out the window.

"Dawn is nearing. I’m afraid the rest of this conversation will have to wait until tomorrow night." He said, turning to Jyncie. "You are welcome to stay here during the day. I’m sure that Talon would not mind staying with you." He glanced at Talon, who confirmed with a nod of his head. Goliath smiled.

"Good." He reached down and clamped his enormous hand on Jyncie’s shoulder. "We will see you tonight. Then we can sort out this whole mess." He smiled warmly at her.

Jyncie felt a slow smile creeping onto her face. ‘Would he treat me this way if he knew what I was?’ She thought to herself. The smile abruptly left her face and she returned to staring at her food. The clan exchanged looks over her head, some worried and anxious, some confused and others suspicious. Jyncie refused to watch as they solemnly began to make their ways to their perches. She forced herself to stay still and did not notice Goliath motioning to Talon, then leading him outside.

Once they were gone, Jyncie’s eyes wandered nervously around the room. They knew. They had to know, it had been written all over their faces. Her eyes drifted to the window. Her new, cat-like ears twitched as they caught a snippet of conversation. She was out of the chair in a flash, listening earnestly.

"I’m telling you, Goliath, something is seriously wrong here. Those are not mutate wings, they’re gargoyle wings. The same with the brow ridges. It’s not normal."

Goliath sighed as he listened to his second-in-command. What Brooklyn was saying did have some validity. The girl was unusual.

"What exactly are you suggesting, Brooklyn." He asked. This stumped the young gargoyle. In truth, he didn’t know what he was suggesting.

"I…I don’t know. It’s just that…well, she doesn’t seem entirely like a human-turned-mutate is all. I mean, did you see the way she hesitated in there? She seemed almost…afraid."

Talon shook his head. "I’m inclined to disagree, Brooklyn. Of course she’s afraid, she’s just been turned into a flying cat by Sevarius. She’s probably terrified!"

Goliath nodded. "I agree with Talon. Brooklyn, your caution is appreciated. I am glad that you are taking the time to think this through. But the fact is, no matter what this girl was before, now she is a mutate and we must treat her with care to allow her time to accustom herself to her new life."

Brooklyn nodded and headed to his perch. They were not going to believe him, no matter what he said. He watched Goliath and Talon converse a moment longer before Goliath mounted the stairs toward his perch. Talon headed back inside. Brooklyn sighed and prepared for the dawn. He could feel the eyes of his clan on his back. Two seconds before the sun froze him in stone he heard Talon’s frantic call.

"She’s gone, she’s gone!"

The sun froze Brooklyn’s face in an expression of shock.

*****

September 4, 1999:

Alone at last, Jyncie’s tears knew no end. She glided as fast as her wings would carry her. Away from the castle, away from the clan, away from the lies that she knew they saw right through. She had stayed only long enough to hear Brooklyn’s arguments with his leader. He knew something was different about her. He knew, he had told the others, and when they awoke tonight…they would crucify her.

So she left. Left the sorrow and misery behind. Ran away, as she always did. Like she had been doing since the day her parents were murdered. Much as she yearned for the comfort of a family, a clan, she knew it could never happen. She was doomed. Doomed to spend the rest of her life alone.

She landed on top of the World Trade Center. From there, she watched the sun peaking over the horizon to wash the land in its golden glow. Teardrops sparkled as they fell. She pulled the pocket mirror that Angela had lent her out of her pocket and gazed at the image that stared back at her. Her black tearlines shone, having lived up to their name. Slowly, she examined herself. Back home she had taken much pleasure in watching the cheetahs. They were very much like herself. Solitary, alone. And now she was one of them. Well, not quite one of them, but close.

Jyncie spread her wings and breathed deeply. The pollution in the air was almost unbearable. ‘Stupid humans.’ She thought. Why they had to destroy their planet was beyond her.

She sighed as she thought of the cheetah. Its beautiful, sleek form racing across the plains of her mind, begging her to join it. She would be like it, she had always been like it. Alone. Always alone. No family, no clan. Too gargoyle to be human, and too human to fit in with the gargoyles. Never belonging to one or the other. Always alone. Always solitary. Now and forever.

Like the cheetah.

The End…for now

Well, what did you think? E-Mail me at [email protected]. Tell me what you think, I love mail!

Next up!: Live Free or Die - Sevarius is mad as a hatter, and willing to do whatever it takes to get Jyncie back! Plus, the gargoyles and mutates join forces to stop Sevarius’ evil plot and rescue the unlikely mutate. But does Jyncie want to be rescued?

Kiswahili Translations:

"Kibibi" - Princess, eldest daughter. 
"Sijambo, baba!" - I’m fine, father.
 "Habari,  mpenzi! Hujambo?" - Hello, beloved! How are you? 
"Tembo" - elephant. 
"Mwanangu"  - my child 
"Kima" - monkey. 
"Ala! Mvua inanyesha!" - Shucks! It’s raining!
 "Shikamoo!"  - "I touch your feet" as a sign of respect, and the answer,
 "Marahabaa!" means  "I acknowledge your respect".
 "Jumbe" - elder. 
"Mwenzangu" - my friend.
 "Lo! Pole  sana!" - Oh! I’m so sorry! 
"Malaika" - angel. 
"Una nakama." - You have your revenge. 
 "Koya" - be happy. 
"Unakwenda wapi?" - Where are you going to?
 "Ninasafiri." -  I am traveling. 
"Nisaidie, tafadhali!" - Help me, please! 
"Ajabu! Umetokea wapi?"  - Wow! Where have you come from? 
"Nani?! Vipi?!" - What?! How?!  

You can learn more about the language and culture of the Swahili people at Moja: One newspaper & information source for East Africa - Kenya, Tanzania, & Uganda.

© Gencie Salter 2000