By Bill Taylor
Bengali was in the control room again with the book that night. He kept the
book away from him though. Across the room, on another computer was
where the book sat. Bengali was trying to force the book out of his mind. He
asked Tygra to take it with him back to the Cat’s Lair, but he turned him down.
All was quiet around the Tower of Omens. A little too quiet for the preference
of the white tiger. He would have preferred loud noises and what not, if only
because it would get his mind off what had happened last night.
Then he heard a cackling. A very familiar, demonic cackling behind him. He
turned and there was Pumyra, sitting on the floor with a wicked grin on her face
and those same opaque eyes. She was a demon once again. “Join us!”
“Pumyra? Oh shit, not again!” Bengali jumped from his chair.
“Join us!” she cackled. “Make it easy on yourself!”
“Pumyra, snap out of it!” Bengali pleaded. “You’re not one of them!”
“Pumyra is gone, foolish mortal! There are only us! The Deadites!”
“No! You’re not one of them! Fight them!”
“Its useless! Give yourself up, and we will be merciful! Resist, and we shall
feast upon your soul! HAHAHA!”
“Let her go!” Bengali pulled out his hammer. “I’m warning you if you’ve
forgotten, this thing hurts!” The Deadite Pumyra started cackling again, and
slowly, turned her head down. Slowly, the laughter, the cackling, died down.
Bengali slowly walked over, hoping maybe she was back to normal and that it
was safe. Slowly, cautiously, he walked closer, hoping that he was not making a
mistake. When he got to her, he touched his hand to her cheek and asked her
name again. “Pumyra?”
“HAHAHAHAHA!” The head quickly came up and screeched and cackled in
the white tiger’s face. She tried to grab his hand and chew it off, but he pulled it
away too fast for her. “Fool! We’ll get you, stupid fool!” In a rush of adrenalin
brought upon by the fight or flight syndrome, Bengali turned and ran for the
door to escape the control room.
Bengali ran through the entire Tower seeking sanctuary, and all he could find
was Pumyra’s office. Bengali turned on the sink and started splashing water on
his face. He looked into the mirror and started breathing heavy to keep up with
his racing heart. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’m fine.”
Then his reflection took form and jumped out at him, resting its hands on his
shoulders. “I don’t think,” said the reflection brought to life. “You zapped your
girlfriend last night with the blacksmith’s hammer. Does that sound… fine?” The
reflection then grabbed Bengali by his throat and tried to strangle him, laughing
low but evilly.
Bengali struggled to free his throat of his evil reflection’s grip, and after a few
minutes, the choking tiger found that he was strangling himself with his own
hands. He released himself from his own grip, and then looked at the mirror
again. He tapped the mirror a few times to see if it was solid and to see if
anyone else was on the other side, but there was no one. Bengali began to
breath easier, and then tapped the mirror one last time. This time, his hand went
all the way through and when he pulled it back out, it was covered with water.
He began screaming and yelling for all he was worth. Then came that same
cackling again. He turned around and there was Pumyra.
“Shut up! Shut up!” he yelled.
“We’re gonna get you. We’re gonna get you. Not another peep. Time to go to
sleep,” sang the sinister Deadite before breaking into mad cackling again.
Without warning, Pumyra somersaulted through the air, landing behind Bengali.
When he turned around, she grabbed his shoulder, holding him there, and began
punching him in the face. Bengali felt like he was going blind with each blow.
Pumyra’s last blow sent him flying, right out of the office and he landed on his
back in the hallway. He tried to crawl away crab like as Pumyra flipped
forward. When she finally landed in front of him again, she kicked him below
the belt. Bengali screamed in pain while Pumyra cackled away.
“Why you-” Bengali manage to groan in a high-pitched voice. Quickly, he
threw his legs up and caught Pumyra’s head between his feet, and threw her
aside. Bengali scrambled to his feet just in time to see Pumyra coming at him
again. He reluctantly hit her in the gut and in the face, not that it hurt her. She
grabbed him by the throat and tried to choke him, and soon, Bengali heard
another cackling laugh in the hall. He saw no one, but heard another person’s
voice. Then he saw who was laughing. It was Lynx-o. The Deadites, as they
called themselves, had taken him too. Demon Lynx-o was now rushing at
Bengali, laughing maniacally, and at the last second, Bengali turned around and
threw Pumyra off himself and into Lynx-o. Lynx-o threw Pumyra off himself
and tried to tackle Bengali, and Bengali quickly knocked him down with an
uppercut punch. Then Pumyra jumped on his back and started clawing at the
back of his head.
“ARGH! You crazy bitch! Get off me!” Eventually, after spinning around and
around for a few minutes, Pumyra wrestled Bengali to the ground. Lynx-o, eyes
guided by the Deadites, walked over and grabbed Bengali’s left arm while
Pumyra grabbed his right. They hoisted him up and cackled together.
“Here he is, oh dark spirits! Make him one of us!” Through the halls of the
Tower of Omens, a strange and evil force was flying. When it entered the
hallway of the Tower, Bengali lost all conscious thought.
Cheetara was shaking all over with a cup of water in her hand. Tygra and
Panthro had found her in the garage, looking as though she had seen a ghost
and babbling on end. “I saw it,” she said between gulps of her drink. “I saw it.”
“You saw what, Cheetara?” asked Tygra.
“I saw it!” Cheetara was a wreck. “I heard him. He said it was too late for
“Who?” asked Panthro. “Who did you hear?”
“Lion-o,” Cheetara replied. “I heard him. He said it was too late to save him.”
“Who got him?”
“They got him.”
“Who’s they?” Panthro asked. Cheetara did not answer. She did not look like
she could answer. She just kept shaking and drinking from her glass to
unsuccessfully calm her nerves.
“Its no use, Panthro.” Tygra sighed. “Not right now, anyway. Let’s just leave
her alone so she can get some rest.” Panthro and Tygra left her room, stumped.
“So what do we do about Lion-o?” Panthro asked. “Who do you think got
“I’m not sure.” Tygra replied.
“My money’s on Mumm-ra.”
“No, I don’t think Mumm-ra’s got him.” Tygra scratched his chin. “We’re
dealing with something totally different here.”
“Well I’m going back down to the garage.” Panthro took a turn to the left and
went down the hall to the elevator. Tygra went right for the library. He needed
to delve into some more occult things. Now he was starting to think he should
have taken the book from Bengali when he asked him to. Now he was starting
to think that maybe the book had something to do with Lion-o’s disappearance.
Tygra walked into the library and found it to be pitch black, not that the dark
bothered him. He felt along the wall for the switch and flipped it. There was
something different about the library. Tygra did not know what, but something
seemed different. He looked to the wall and saw a hole that he knew was not
there earlier. He walked over closer to it to see what might have made it, and
heard a sound. A sound that resembled rushing water. As he got closer to the
hole, Tygra noticed that the sound was coming from the hole.
When he was only about two meters away from the hole, it hit him. A powerful
stream of blood gushed out of the hole, soaking Tygra in blood. Tygra fought to
get out of the stream of blood and eventually he slipped on a puddle of blood
on the floor. As Tygra struggled back to his feet, he accidentally got back into
the stream of blood. Then the blood began to recede back into the hole. In a
matter of seconds, all the blood was gone, all except the blood that Tygra was
covered in. Soaked in blood, looking black and red, Tygra pulled out his whip.
“Whoever you are, you wanna taste of my whip?” Tygra began stalking
around the library room looking up at the ceiling, screaming insanely. “How
about, huh? Whip your butts to kingdom come! See if I don’t!” Tygra began to
calm down a little bit, like he was waking up from a bad dream. He tried to sit
down on a chair, and it collapsed under his weight. Tygra fell on his butt.
“Huh?” Tygra looked up at the stag head on the wall. The Warrior Maidens,
Willa and Nada, had given them the stag head as a sign of friendship, not that
they really needed the head of a dead animal hanging on their wall. A cracking
noise was coming from its neck. Then the stag head turned to look at him; its
glassy eyes gone white opaque and mouth wide open instead of closed. The
stag held Tygra’s eyes for a second. The stag head began to laugh.
Tygra stared at the perverse sight of the deer head laughing at him, and noticed
that the lamp was laughing at him as well. His eyes blinked a mile a second, as
Tygra saw that the books were laughing at him too. The whole library was
laughing at him. So Tygra decided –what the hell- and started laughing with
The whole room was alive with dark, malevolent laughter. Tygra began playing
games with the lamp, ducking with it, lowering his legs as it lowered itself on its
“AHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
After a while, Tygra stopped laughing and began yelling. Yelling in pain and
madness. Madness brought about the Deadites. Then the doors came open and
there stood Wilykit and Wilykat. “Tygra, are you all right?” asked Kit.
“Do I look alright?” Tygra asked, twitching his eye.
“Well, no but-”
“Then I don’t!” he yelled uncharacteristically. “You heard them, didn’t you?”
“Heard who?” Kat asked.
“Them! The library! The books! The stag head! You heard them, didn’t you?
Of course you did, or else you would not have come.” There was a look of
madness in his eyes.
“We heard you, Tygra,” said Kit. “We didn’t hear anyone else.”
“How could you not hear them?” Tygra asked. “They were laughing loud
enough to wake the dead! The undead! The un-living!”
“Uh, maybe you should sit down.”
“NO! I can’t sit down! That’s what got them laughing at me in the first place!”
“Really, you should sit down.”
“I won’t sit down! The laughing will begin anew! If you don’t believe me, sit
down yourself! There’s a chair right over there!”
Wilykit walked over to the chair and sat down. Tygra had a dumbfounded
look on his face when he saw that the chair did not collapse under her weight
and the room did not begin laughing.
“Oh, I see! You’re too good to laugh at the kittens, you can only laugh at me!”
yelled Tygra. “Well, that’s just fine with me! HAHAHAHAHA!”
“Uh, Tygra?” Wilykat nudged the older, taller cat. “Maybe you should go to
“But if I go to bed, they’ll start laughing at me again!”
“You don’t have to go to bed here, just go to bed in your room.”
“But-” Wilykit and Wilykat started leading him out of the library.
“Come on, Tygra,” chided Wilykit. “The books aren’t going to laugh at you
“So he was babbling about the library laughing at him?” Panthro asked with a
“Great. Lion-o’s gone, Tygra and Cheetara are going nuts, and I can’t get the
Tower of Omens on the horn.” Panthro rubbed his eyes exhaustedly. “What
else can go wrong today?” Then there was a crack of thunder.
“How about a storm?” asked Wilykat.
Panthro turned back to the computers and got an incoming vehicle signal.
“What is it, Panthro?” asked Wilykit.
“It’s the Thunder Claw. But why would a storm make Bengali, Lynx-o and
Pumyra come all the way to the Cat’s Lair?”
“Maybe they sprung a leak,” quipped Wilykat. Wilykat felt something
wrapping itself around his leg, he looked down and saw that it was Snarf.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” whimpered Snarf.
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” agreed Panthro, pressing the controls to open the
hangar. “You three stay here, I’ll go see what the problem is.”
Panthro had his nun-chucks with him when he got into the garage hangar. The
other Thundercats had not gotten out of the Claw. That made him curious as to
what was going on. Was there Tower attacked, or what? It was kind of dark in
the hangar, not that Panthro needed to turn the lights on to see, since he knew
his way around pretty well. But why should the lights not be on? Panthro heard
the door open with something of a crash behind him. He turned, expecting to
see the Thunderkittens and Snarf, but to his surprise, it was Cheetara and
“Shouldn’t you two be sleeping?” he asked.
“They’re here!” Cheetara yelled in his face. “They’re here!”
“I know, I know. The other Thundercats are here. I guess they sprung a leak at
the tower during the storm.”
“No, not them! Not the other Thundercats! Not the Thundercats that we
“What do you mean ‘not the Thundercats that we know’?”
“They’ve been taken- Lion-o, Lynx-o, Pumyra, Bengali, have been taken!”
“By the thing that chased me!” Cheetara answered. “A dark spirit of
“Yes, it also took possession of the library a few hours ago!” added Tygra.
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” Panthro said flatly.
“I believe the word looking you’re for is… Deadites!” Panthro, Tygra, and
Cheetara turned to see Lion-o. Or at least he who had been Lion-o, for the
Lion-o who had been the lord of the Thundercats was gone. His eyes glowed
yellow, and his maniacal smile revealed razor sharp teeth. At his side, the
Deadite possessed Pumyra, Bengali, and Lynx-o stood. “We are the things that
were and shall be again! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! We want what is yours!
Life! HAHA! Dead by dawn!”
“Dead by dawn! Dead by dawn!” They all yelled repeatedly. “Dead by dawn!
Dead by dawn!” The cackling went on and on, until Tygra pulled out his whip
and cracked it across the room, hitting Lion-o square in the face with it.
“We beg to differ,” he replied.
“Thundercats, HO!” yelled the three who were not possessed by the Deadites
as they charged, weapons at hand. Tygra, Cheetara and Panthro were
outnumbered, four to three, not that they would go without a fight. Panthro
struggled with Lion-o, with Lynx-o trying to take him from behind, chewing on
his neck a little bit. Cheetara tried to hold Pumyra at bay with her staff,
wrestling around with her, while Tygra had his hands full fighting Bengali.
Pumyra was pushing Cheetara back up against the wall, trying to choke her
with her own staff. She seemed much stronger now that she was a Deadite.
Struggling, Cheetara managed to push her legs up and pushed Pumyra away
with them. Cheetara used her staff to leap up and kick her former friend in the
jaw, and as she landed, bring her staff up and hit her upside the face with it.
Cheetara went into a world wind, spinning her staff in her hands, hitting Pumyra
again and again as rapidly as she could. Pumyra pulled out her lasso and
wrapped it around Cheetara’s staff, and tried to yank it out of her grasp.
Cheetara fought and struggled to hang on to it, but Pumyra eventually
succeeded and Cheetara’s staff went flying through the room, hitting Deadite
Lion-o in the back of the head. Cheetara tackled Pumyra, and that proved to
be unwise. Pumyra sunk her claws into the flesh of Cheetara’s arms, and blood
squirted out. Cheetara tried to fight back the pain, and the temptation to
scream, but it was no use. Pumyra was overpowering her, and things were
starting to look black in front of her eyes.
Tygra was having his own problems with Bengali. Bengali had wrestled Tygra
to the floor and was trying to bite his nose off. Tygra worked his legs up to
Bengali’s chest and pushed up and forward, throwing him into the Thunder
Tank. Tygra got back on his feet and cracked his whip at Bengali, cracking him
right on the head. Bengali shrugged it off and charged at Tygra. Tygra wrapped
the whip around him and disappeared.
“Stupid tiger mortal!” yelled Bengali. “You can’t hide from the dead!” Bengali
swung around and hit Tygra behind him, causing him to drop his whip and
reappear, not that he could fool a Deadite. Tygra hit Bengali back, but Bengali
was stronger, and took Tygra by the throat, lifting him off his feet and as high in
the air as he could. Tygra gouged Bengali’s white eyes, and was dropped. He
kicked Bengali in the stomach, but that didn’t even knock him down. Bengali
tackled Tygra again, and once again, he had him by the throat. Darkness began
to fill the orange tiger’s eyes.
Panthro had Lynx-o under his foot, literally, but Lion-o was still a problem.
Panthro had already hit Lion-o with martial art blows that would have killed
anyone else, and his lord was still unfazed. What terrified Panthro was that he
was starting to run out of steam, becoming exhausted. If he lost, then there was
no hope for anyone. “Give it up, Panthro!” Lion-o yelled in his face. “You
cannot slay the dead! HAHAHAHAHA!”
“Up yours, Lion-o!” Panthro hit him, then took his arm around and lifted over
his shoulder, then dropped him on top of Lynx-o. Panthro jumped back to get a
little bit of space between him and the Deadite Lion-o, and when he looked
around, he saw that the other Thundercats, Tygra and Cheetara, were now
Deadites. “Okay,” he sighed. “Who’s next?”
Lion-o stood up with Lynx-o, and smiled devilishly. “Get him!” And with that,
the Deadite Thundercats tackled him.
Wilykit, Wilykat, and Snarf thought they heard a yell that resembled the voice
of Panthro. “What do you thinks going on in the hangar?” asked Wilykit.
“I don’t know, and I don’t think I want to know.” Wilykat felt his stomach
“I think we should check it out,” said Wilykit.
“Snarf, that could be dangerous, Wilykit.” Snarf whimpered.
“Do we really have a choice?” Kit asked.
“Yeah, we cannot go down to the hangar,” said Snarf.
“Well Wilykat, who do you side with? Me or Snarf?” Wilykit put her brother in
an awkward position, answering wise. So he closed his eyes, and moved his
finger back in forth between Wilykit and Snarf.
“Inny, meany, miny, mo,” he said, unaware that Wilykit and Snarf were rolling
their eyes at him. “Catch Tygra by his toe, if he howls, let him go. Inny, meany,
Wilykit, Wilykat, and Snarf went down to the hangar to see what was
happening. They walked slow, trying to keep from making any loud noises.
Stomachs churning, Snarf whimpering, they came ever closer to the hangar
door. When they reached the door, they stopped. Never knowing, never
suspecting, what horrors lied beyond that door.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Wilykit?” asked Wilykat. “Open the door.”
“Why don’t you open it?” Wilykit asked.
“It was your idea to come down here.” Wilykat said.
“You were the one who labeled me as mo.” The kittens were about to argue,
but Snarf raised his hand.
“Well, neither of you has to open that door, you know.”
“Would you rather do it, Snarf?” asked Wilykat. Snarf shrugged.
“But if you absolutely have to, there’s another way. Rock, paper, scissors.”
“Okay,” agreed the kittens. They turned, shook their fists for a second, and
threw out. Wilykat had a rock, Wilykit had paper. Paper covers rock, so
Wilykat stepped forward to open the door. He took his sweet time, walking
slow, extending his hand slow, even extended his finger slow. He was going so
slow he could hear and feel his heart beating. Then the door opened, and a
yellow-eyed Lion-o appeared.
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