Nicholas Greyer, the Anti-Hero
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The Mystery of Laurel Trace Boulevard
The street lights on Laurel Trace Blvd. were never too fond of shining at useful times. Every other light in Florida worked just fine, save for those few shady districts of Orlando and Miami, but Laurel Trace Blvd. just happened to be completely backwards on the matter of illuminating.
Many would tell you that the city's power company made an error in setting the timer. The power company would tell you that they've sent several workers to Laurel Trace Blvd. to remedy the problem, and that it should be fixed shortly. Those several workers would tell you that they've checked the problem out at least once a month for the past six years, but every time they fix it, some neighborhood kids must be recreating the problem again after they've left. The neighborhood kids would blame Nicholas Greyer, the 25-year old man who moved to town precisely six years ago, the day the power lines began causing all the silly problems and rumors. Nicholas Greyer would blame his cat, because Nicholas Greyer had no one else to talk to anyways. His cat would blame no one, because deep down he knew it was all his fault.
You see, Nicholas Greyer, and the rest of the world for that matter, were unaware of life on other planets, nonetheless, of the wizards on theirs. Nicholas Greyer's cat is not an alien. However, Mr. Mittens is a highly regarded wizard named Grynivold Luther III, who decided to go into retirement at the ripe old age of 647. Why as a cat? Why as Nicholas Greyer's cat?
The explanation is quite simple. Nicholas Greyer is also a wizard, and it is imperative that he never find this out. You may ask why, but only Grynivold Luther III and the Wizarding Council of Arguld could tell you that. For you see, the only thing anyone of the wizarding world knows of Nicholas Greyer is that he is the unlucky recipient of the renowned Grynivold's litter box treasures. And while Grynivold is, indeed, a wizard, his poo is still just poo.
However imperative it is that Nicholas never discover his powers, today, July 19th, is his birthday. Nicholas will turn 26, and remain ever the same. He will not receive a promotion, as he is just a pizza delivery boy, he will not receive a letter to a prestigious wizarding school, as he is not eleven anymore, and his webcomic will never take off and make him rich, as everyone in art school was so sure it would. No, Nicholas was to remain a 26-year old delivery boy living in a small city where no one knew his name. At least, that was Grynivold's plan.
At precisely 7 a.m. on July 19th, the streetlights on Laurel Trace Blvd. began to flicker to life. Mothers packed children and backpacks into minivans and cross-overs, and sped a full 2 miles over the speed limit to deliver their precious cargo to the nearest private schools. Nicholas pressed the snooze button to his annoyingly effective siren alarm, as he had forgotten to turn off the alarm so he could sleep in.
Five minutes after seven, mothers returned from the schools, make coffee, turn on Netflix and watch Desperate Housewives. Nicholas pressed snooze again.
Grynivold, however, had other plans for Nicholas' morning, and sounded his own alarm, meowing cat style. Prior to becoming Nicholas' cat, Grynivold could not even spell meow, and decided that imitating a banshee was far easier. Luckily for Grynivold, the differences between a banshee scream and a cat meowing was nearly imperceptible to human ears. Also, apparently, to the ears of Nicholas, who had never before owned a cat or a banshee. Though, Grynivold has decided both are identical in terms of pets. They either sleep, eat, or scream, and when you die they eat you. Grynivold was still undecided on eating Nicholas, but only because he found the boy lacking in both delicious fat or muscle.
"Mr. Mittens! Five more minutes!"
Although, Nicholas knew that shouting would not quiet Grynivold, his waking brain was too slow to process what humans call common sense. Grynivold hopped atop Nicholas' face, and sat imitating a banshee scream for several tens of seconds before the lazy man decided to wake up.
Once on his feet, he prepared his coffee pot and set off for his daily shower.
Grynivold rushed to the coffee pot in order to spike it with 'Secunde.' 'Secunde,' while meaning 'Monday' or 'Happily' in Latin, is acutally a potion of misfortune. The potion was named by Roculd Reginald who happened to be a very big Garfield fan.
While one would think Grynivold evil for causing Nicholas Greyer misfortune, it happened to be the only way to keep him unaware of his true identity. The true misfortune was that Grynivold, as a cat, could not open and pour the potion with his paws, and instead had to transform into his true self. That is to say, not human, but as close to human as a 647-year old man can look.
Alas, as a cat Grynivold was not clothed, therefore every morning whilst Nicholas showers, a 647-year old man stands naked in his kitchen spiking his coffee with a poison of unfortunance. This particular morning, Nicholas didn’t follow routine. He forgot his towel, and decided to fetch it while his shower water got warm.
Grynivold, naked as a molerat (as that’s what the skin of a 647-year old man resembles), was deafened by his own incantations over the coffee pot, and didn’t hear Nicholas walk by. Fortunately for Grynivold, Nicholas passed by unaware towards the hall closet.
Unfortunately, a droplet of Secunde splashed into Grynivold's quickly chanting mouth, as the black brew bubbled as if it were boiling. Secunde, working as intended, unfortunately worked very quickly. That’s when Nicholas questioned what he had seen in his peripheral as he passed the kitchen. That’s when Nicholas met Grynivold, the stark naked wizard.
The Mystery of Laurel Trace Boulevard
The street lights on Laurel Trace Blvd. were never too fond of shining at useful times. Every other light in Florida worked just fine, save for those few shady districts of Orlando and Miami, but Laurel Trace Blvd. just happened to be completely backwards on the matter of illuminating.
Many would tell you that the city's power company made an error in setting the timer. The power company would tell you that they've sent several workers to Laurel Trace Blvd. to remedy the problem, and that it should be fixed shortly. Those several workers would tell you that they've checked the problem out at least once a month for the past six years, but every time they fix it, some neighborhood kids must be recreating the problem again after they've left. The neighborhood kids would blame Nicholas Greyer, the 25-year old man who moved to town precisely six years ago, the day the power lines began causing all the silly problems and rumors. Nicholas Greyer would blame his cat, because Nicholas Greyer had no one else to talk to anyways. His cat would blame no one, because deep down he knew it was all his fault.
You see, Nicholas Greyer, and the rest of the world for that matter, were unaware of life on other planets, nonetheless, of the wizards on theirs. Nicholas Greyer's cat is not an alien. However, Mr. Mittens is a highly regarded wizard named Grynivold Luther III, who decided to go into retirement at the ripe old age of 647. Why as a cat? Why as Nicholas Greyer's cat?
The explanation is quite simple. Nicholas Greyer is also a wizard, and it is imperative that he never find this out. You may ask why, but only Grynivold Luther III and the Wizarding Council of Arguld could tell you that. For you see, the only thing anyone of the wizarding world knows of Nicholas Greyer is that he is the unlucky recipient of the renowned Grynivold's litter box treasures. And while Grynivold is, indeed, a wizard, his poo is still just poo.
However imperative it is that Nicholas never discover his powers, today, July 19th, is his birthday. Nicholas will turn 26, and remain ever the same. He will not receive a promotion, as he is just a pizza delivery boy, he will not receive a letter to a prestigious wizarding school, as he is not eleven anymore, and his webcomic will never take off and make him rich, as everyone in art school was so sure it would. No, Nicholas was to remain a 26-year old delivery boy living in a small city where no one knew his name. At least, that was Grynivold's plan.
At precisely 7 a.m. on July 19th, the streetlights on Laurel Trace Blvd. began to flicker to life. Mothers packed children and backpacks into minivans and cross-overs, and sped a full 2 miles over the speed limit to deliver their precious cargo to the nearest private schools. Nicholas pressed the snooze button to his annoyingly effective siren alarm, as he had forgotten to turn off the alarm so he could sleep in.
Five minutes after seven, mothers returned from the schools, make coffee, turn on Netflix and watch Desperate Housewives. Nicholas pressed snooze again.
Grynivold, however, had other plans for Nicholas' morning, and sounded his own alarm, meowing cat style. Prior to becoming Nicholas' cat, Grynivold could not even spell meow, and decided that imitating a banshee was far easier. Luckily for Grynivold, the differences between a banshee scream and a cat meowing was nearly imperceptible to human ears. Also, apparently, to the ears of Nicholas, who had never before owned a cat or a banshee. Though, Grynivold has decided both are identical in terms of pets. They either sleep, eat, or scream, and when you die they eat you. Grynivold was still undecided on eating Nicholas, but only because he found the boy lacking in both delicious fat or muscle.
"Mr. Mittens! Five more minutes!"
Although, Nicholas knew that shouting would not quiet Grynivold, his waking brain was too slow to process what humans call common sense. Grynivold hopped atop Nicholas' face, and sat imitating a banshee scream for several tens of seconds before the lazy man decided to wake up.
Once on his feet, he prepared his coffee pot and set off for his daily shower.
Grynivold rushed to the coffee pot in order to spike it with 'Secunde.' 'Secunde,' while meaning 'Monday' or 'Happily' in Latin, is acutally a potion of misfortune. The potion was named by Roculd Reginald who happened to be a very big Garfield fan.
While one would think Grynivold evil for causing Nicholas Greyer misfortune, it happened to be the only way to keep him unaware of his true identity. The true misfortune was that Grynivold, as a cat, could not open and pour the potion with his paws, and instead had to transform into his true self. That is to say, not human, but as close to human as a 647-year old man can look.
Alas, as a cat Grynivold was not clothed, therefore every morning whilst Nicholas showers, a 647-year old man stands naked in his kitchen spiking his coffee with a poison of unfortunance. This particular morning, Nicholas didn’t follow routine. He forgot his towel, and decided to fetch it while his shower water got warm.
Grynivold, naked as a molerat (as that’s what the skin of a 647-year old man resembles), was deafened by his own incantations over the coffee pot, and didn’t hear Nicholas walk by. Fortunately for Grynivold, Nicholas passed by unaware towards the hall closet.
Unfortunately, a droplet of Secunde splashed into Grynivold's quickly chanting mouth, as the black brew bubbled as if it were boiling. Secunde, working as intended, unfortunately worked very quickly. That’s when Nicholas questioned what he had seen in his peripheral as he passed the kitchen. That’s when Nicholas met Grynivold, the stark naked wizard.