The depth of short stories and micro-fiction 2

From Dungeon Master to Dungeon Master: A Time-Traveling D&D Sage

Lenny, a scrawny ten-year-old with a mop of unruly brown hair, hunched over the worn leather-bound book, his brow furrowed in concentration. Beside him, his younger sister, Maya, a whirlwind of freckled energy, bounced impatiently. They were perched on the living room floor, surrounded by stacks of dice, crumpled character sheets, and the remnants of a half-eaten pizza. Their parents, absent on a weekend trip to visit relatives, had left behind their beloved Dungeons & Dragons game, a treasure trove of adventures waiting to be unearthed.

Lenny, a seasoned RPG enthusiast, had been itching to try out the game for weeks. He knew the rules, the spells, the monsters - all from countless hours spent watching his parents lose themselves in fantastical worlds. Now, with the coveted D&D set at his disposal, he felt a surge of responsibility, a desire to uphold the legacy of his parents' adventures.

"Okay, Maya," Lenny announced, tapping his finger on the cover of the book. "This is our adventure. We are the heroes. We are going on a quest."

Maya, her eyes wide with excitement, nodded vigorously. Her character, a sassy elven rogue named Whisper wind, was already poised to steal the treasure. Lenny, on the other hand, was playing a brooding half-elf wizard named Shadow flame, his hands itching to conjure spells.

They flipped open the book to a dusty, handwritten page. "The Cave of Whispers," Lenny read aloud, his voice quivering with anticipation. "This is where we begin."

The story unfolded like a tapestry woven with magic and mystery. They navigated a perilous forest, fought off goblins with their makeshift swords, and even rescued a talking squirrel from a hungry badger. As their imaginary world came alive, the lines between fantasy and reality began to blur.

Suddenly, the flickering light from the vintage lamp on the coffee table started to dance. Maya gasped. "Look, Lenny! The lamp is moving!"

Lenny's heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't sure what to make of it. The lamp, a family heirloom, had always held a strange energy. "Maybe it's the wind," he muttered, trying to sound nonchalant.

But the lamp was spinning, its light growing brighter, painting the room in an eerie glow. A swirling vortex of energy began to form in the centre of the room, pulsating with an otherworldly hum.

"Lenny, what's happening?" Maya whispered, her voice laced with fear.

Lenny, despite his fear, couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The portal, for that's what it seemed to be, was beckoning them. This wasn't just a game anymore. This was real.

"I don't know," he murmured, his eyes glued to the swirling vortex. "But we need to go through it."

Before Maya could protest, Lenny grabbed her hand, and they stepped into the portal. The world spun, the air crackled with energy, and in a flash, they were transported to another time, another place.

The first thing that hit them was the smell - a potent mix of chlorine and stale cigarettes. The air was hazy and thick with the aroma of cheap perfume and gasoline fumes. They found themselves in a large, brightly lit room, filled with arcade machines, flashing lights, and the cacophony of electronic beeps and buzzes.

Lenny, his eyes adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings, realized with a sinking feeling that they were in a bowling alley. But not just any bowling alley. The neon signs, the vintage bowling balls, the arcade games – it was like stepping into a scene from one of their father's old 80s movies.

Maya, however, was thrilled. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her eyes wide with wonder. "This is so cool!" she exclaimed, running towards a row of Pac-Man machines.

Lenny, though apprehensive, couldn't help feeling a twinge of excitement. This was an adventure unlike any other, a chance to explore a lost era. Maybe, he thought, they could even meet their parents in their younger days.

As they ventured deeper into the bowling alley, they became aware of a strange phenomenon. The people around them seemed to be noticing them, but not quite. They seemed to see them but not really see them, like ghosts in their own world. Their conversations, their laughter, even the sound of the bowling balls crashing against the pins – everything felt muffled, as if they were listening through a barrier.

Lenny knew they were no longer in their own time. They were stuck in a strange, nostalgic echo of the past.

"What are we going to do, Lenny?" Maya asked, her voice losing some of its earlier exuberance. "How do we get back?"

Lenny, grappling with the same questions, didn't have an answer. But he knew one thing – they were not alone in this strange, forgotten world. The lamp, their portal to the past, was still humming, still glowing, still promising a way back home.

With a newfound determination, Lenny gripped Maya's hand, and together, they entered the bowling alley's darkest corner, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and hope. The adventure, they knew, had just begun.