Gremlins 3

A Horrid New Family

I do not own any rights to gremlins and all credit to these fantastic creatures goes to Chris Columbus and Warner Bros. I'm merely a creative fan. However I do own my own original mogwai (plural) and non novel/movie characters. So if you wish to use them just email me. The book says several groups of mogwai were spread through out the universe and on earth. This mogwai that starts my story is one of the surviving brothers of Gizmo. Enjoy!

"How long had it been?" The creature thought to himself looking up through the cracks of his damp and moldy wooden crate.

"How long had it been since I was embraced in my master's arms?" He thought once more as he peered down into his feeder dish.

The feeder dish was a flat baking tray that lay on the cement floor in front of his crate near a large crack that he could reach through with his paws. The only thing in it was some crumbs that reeked of mold and dog food.

What seemed to be another voice in his mind said: "And since when do you care old friend?"

The creature sighed tired of his 2' by 2' existence. And then he peered through a crack in front of him in hopes of seeing … anything. He perked his ears up slowly.

He heard some creepy laughter echoing in the empty warehouse but could not see where it came from. Then silence again. He listened harder eventually hearing his own breathing.

Suddenly he began to feel a spark of rage surfacing from his stomach. He began getting terrible ideas and thoughts that seemed to fill his feelings with relief. He saw visions of a man…and blood splattering. A small laugh and then…blackness.

He erased it from his mind. He didn't want to become one of "Them."

Oh yes "Them." "Those, things" three of them were once his brothers. But his brothers cared not for him the way he had for them. They broke the rules of their instinct and ate…ate until they changed…to "Them." Only his fourth brother and he had enough sense not to give in to their urges and obey instinct.

His recent thoughts were making him depressed and tired. With no other outlet to empty his anxiety on the matters he uttered one simple word.

"Mogwai." Slowly, he began to doze off to the sound of the warehouse's emptiness.

"...mogwai…"

The sound of thunder gradually woke him up. With a stiff neck and sore shoulders he sat up. Sensing the time of night, he realized he over slept.

"What does it matter?" He thought as he looked at the walls of his crate.

Suddenly he heard voices. One of the voices was all too familiar to him.

They were getting closer. Coming around the corner to the vacant area in which he was kept in his crate.

"So where is this thing?" The new voice asked impatiently.

"Just around the corner, this isn't a puppy dog that I can display anywhere I want y'know." His master's voice explained sarcastically.

"You don't display it at all. What is it?"

The voices were nearing his crate. Then the footsteps stopped.

"Hey you were lookin' for something weird, and I said I had something. If you wanna change your mind now's the time."
The creature looked through a crack peering at what he could see of the two men.

His master pulled up one sleeve and showed the scars on his arm to the man.

"You're telling me that what's in that box, that little crate, did this to you?"

"Not exactly but it had something to do with it."

His master leaned down at the box.

"You sure it's safe to open that?" The new voice asked with fear.

"Don't worry this guy is docile as a teddy bear."

The Mogwai began to feel uneasy. He wasn't sure what his master was doing. It had to have been a quarter of a human life time since he was out of his crate.

The lid lifted up, and the mogwai took in the sight of his master's aged face.

Expecting that his master had forgiven him, and that his solitude was over, the mogwai lifted his arms with a smile hoping to be lifted up.

His master sneered at the mere sight of the creature.

"Well here it is, take a gander." Without a second look to the creature, he moved aside and the mogwai saw a new face, a face he was not about to trust.

This new human reeked of deceit and dark secrets.

"What the hell is this?" Asked the new man slightly agitated.

"What do you mean?" His master slightly confused.

"It's just an ugly rat. Why the hell do I want this?"

"Want!" The mogwai thought. In his fear and confusion he uttered:

"Yuck, yuck!" This was an attempt to show his feelings for the new human.

The new man smiled evilly.

"I'll take'm. So what's your catch?" He asked with doubt.

"This thing is why I had to resort to the type of "Business" that I do. It caused the downward spiral of my life."

The new man thought for a second.

"Ok, now you gotta convince me I want it."

The feeding tray was refilled again with small puppy chow and some leftovers smothered in gravy-like substances.

His master covered his crate again and the two men conversed some more as they walked into a small office area in the warehouse. The small creature whimpered as he looked into his feeding tray and felt his heart break again. He began to make uncontrollable soft noises as if to cry. Then the other voice in his mind began to talk.

"If we go with this new man we can escape him easily, he knows nothing about us. And we can do something to make our master happy so he will hold us again…like before."

"Our master hates us. He blames us because of what happened back then. He will never love us again."

The sound of two gun shots from within the office startled the little mogwai's train of thought. He began to feel very alarmed and scurried about the cracks to see what was going on. He heard footsteps coming closer to him at a hurried pace.

His crate began to shift as it was lifted into a pair of arms. The mogwai couldn't make out who it was. As he sat patiently in his crate while being carried off, a familiar face stared at him through a crack of his crate from the cement floor. The face of his master was sitting in a pool of blood. Before he could study the dead face of his master it was out of site. The mogwai felt extremely uneasy in the hands of this human that killed his master.

He heard the opening of a door. From the sound of it, it was one of those transporting machines humans used to replace horses in long days past. Memories of past handlers came into mind. Handlers that had passed on due to age…or miss care for him and his four brothers' ages ago.

"Vroom, vroom" He said excitedly as he figured out what machine he had heard make that sound before.

The lid opened and he saw the man reaching inside his cage with a needle of some sort.

"We can't have you blabber the whole trip and catch the curiosity of others."

The man inserted the needle into his arm.

"Nighty Night."

The mogwai began to feel drowsy and relaxed which wasn't something that happened in his uncomfortable crate. He fell into a comfortable sleep filled with all kinds of soft bright images of serene places. He dreamt of flying over pastel painted grassy landscapes. He saw memories of his past before he was issued to earth of all his old siblings created by Mogtruman before they were all separated for universal survival testing. He dreamt of eating the many foods he had come across in his life time. He dreamt of his fondest memories of his siblings on earth. He dreamt of a memory that he could only recall when he was asleep, a memory that he hadn't been able to dream about for a long time. The memory of his littlest sibling, in human terms she would have been his sister. Her pure white fur so radiant in the dreamt up sunlight, he almost felt like he was squinting his eyes she was so bright. She began to float away into a pillar of light just as he tried to reach for her. Then the dreams began to fade, as the drugs wore off he began to become conscious once again. When he remembered his predicament he regretted ever waking up. As he sat up, he awaited the groggy head ache to leave. The memory of his sister once again faded into a part of him that he could never seem to activate. He began to get that feeling again. That feeling that he was forgetting that dream he rarely had. The one dream that brought him true peace and he could never remember what it was about when he woke up. The mogwai frowned in frustration as he tried his best to remember his dreams. He recalled flying, the spaceships, some faces, the food…

He began to feel like it was on the tip of his tongue, that dream he rarely had, but something blocked his memory, he began to see a white object…out of focus. He envisioned walking closer to it. But then terrible images of… "Those things" appeared in his mind. Their grotesque smiles, their fangs, and the laughs began to fill his heart with painful feelings like he lost something special to "Them."

"Ca ca…" He blurted out in tired defeat.

As he took in his surroundings, he began to feel very lost. He was no longer in his old water logged crate. Instead he was sitting on a thin little blanket decorated in little bears with symbols on their tummies inside of a new box made of newly cut wood, but no cracks to peer through. He began to feel trapped, and the comfortable blanket and bean filled stuffed animal, and the yummy smelling bag of cookies wasn't helping him calm down! He wanted to see where he was!

He began banging on the walls of his box.

The man had dressed up in a nice business suit and was walking into the lobby of a fancy building holding the blanket covered crate by the handle. While rambling on his cell phone he didn't realize the creature was doing its best to create a commotion.

As the man walked by a kid who was holding his mothers hand, a muffled voice came from inside the crate.

"Knock, knock!"

The kid stopped in his tracks and watched the man take the covered box into the elevator.

"Mommy that box just talked! The child exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"It's probably just a new doll Hun. Lots of people come here to sell their ideas and put them in stores. Now don't forget your lines, this is a really important commercial, and your manager thinks you are perfect for the role." The Child's mother kneeled down and adjusted his hair as she guessed her way through his curiosity.

The child never took his attention away form the elevator as he watched through the glass as the man went up several floors.

DING! The mogwai's ears perked up as soon as the elevator doors had sounded.

He tried his hardest to hear any sounds that might give him a clue as to where he was.

He felt a jolt as his crate was set down on something hard.

Two men began talking, and one of the voices began to get very excited.

"Lemme see it." The newer of the voices exclaimed.

A blanket lifted up, and unveiled a crate. Someone began opening his box.

An extremely obese man with a cigar in his mouth peered in.

"Perfect. It's just what I was looking for. This may save me."

"So, you said you'd pay a great deal for something rare. Well my instincts tell me by your reaction that this thing's pretty freakin' rare. You obviously seem to know more about this thing than I do, and this isn't exactly what I was looking for, so I figured you might want it."

"OK, ok, you got me. I know a great deal about this creature, in fact I have done more than you'd believe to find one. You heard the stories about the attack on a town? Perhaps maybe a mall in New York? NO? Surely, the famous stories about gremlins in WWII."

"Look, I don't care what it is. I just want my money,"

"I'll give you 200,000 for it." The fat man took a puff of his cigar.

"200,000 can buy a common day sports car, this little beast is as rare as they get."

The man shut the lid trying to get a desperate rise out of the fat man.

"Mogwai!" He screamed as the lid slammed down.

"Ok. 3 million." The fat man gave in almost sweating.

"What do I look like pest control? Common you know its worth more. I can see it in your face." He said confidently with a glint of hope that he wasn't pushing it.

The fat man began getting agitated.

"5 million, that is as high as I'll go. I have spent nearly 4 million on just looking for one. So in this case you're making some profit." The fat man stood up from his chair making a stance.

"Hmmm." The man looked as the box, then at the fat man.

"You have yourself a deal. When do I get my money?" He asked as he held the crate tight.

"I can wire it to you within the next 30 minutes." The fat man took another puff then patted the ash of his cigar into a tray.

The other man began to sweat with eagerness. So they sat across form each other while the crate sat on the table.

"So, where did you find it?" The fat man asked suspiciously.

"Some guy I did business with had it crated up in a corner of his run down warehouse.

He said it ruined his life. Which is why he was living a life of crime or some B.S.

He had heard that I was looking for strange things. But this isn't the kind of thing I'm lookin for. He was lookin to skip the country, but had no money. He asked me for a million. I wasn't about to pay a million for something that may just be a genetic reject. We argued then he threatened me by saying he'd ruin my rep. Seems he knew a lot about me…to much in fact. So, I went to knock him out when he pulled his gun on me.

"Bang, bang!" A little voce uttered muffled by the walls of its crate.

As the man told the story the mogwai saw it in his head as if he was there at the warehouse witnessing it.

"I grabbed his arm before he could aim, when he kicked me I fell and the gun flew into the air. He went to choke me when I caught the gun and shot him twice. Then I decided to take the creature with me so it wouldn't die there, hoping someone wanted it somewhere, and maybe make some cash. Then I remembered you Mr.Truman."

The mogwai stared blankly as he soaked in the images. His master had become a low life human because of "Them" because of "Him."

He now understood why his master caged him up. The mogwai hung his head in shame.

"Very interesting indeed." The fat man groped his jaw line as he listened intrigued.

"But I wouldn't handle it or nothing; it looks like that thing's been caged up for awhile in a much less hospitable crate than this one. It might be traumatized or insane or somethin."

"Well if this is indeed one of what I hope it is, then it should be in good shape considering how long it has survived. And I'm speaking of its mental state.

The man stared oddly at Mr. Truman for a moment.

"You're about as creepy as this thing. My money there yet?"

"Oh yes! It should all be arranged now. Go on he is in good hands now, and make sure I never see you again hmm?"

With a smile and a nod the man left the room and could be heard singing the whole way to the elevator.

The creature heard the lid shuffle again. As it opened the fat man's face appeared gleaming with joy.

"Ah my new friend, you are safe with me, do you wish to come out? Oh don't be shy, take your time, and make yourself at home. I understand you will not trust me and you are most likely confused. So we will take some time to trust each other yes? I will leave you to get used to your new home until I can arrange a more proper abode for you. Explore, touch, and learn this will help me get to know you better.

The mogwai looked into his eyes, as the fat man blabbered words faster than he could understand them.

"Do not be worried little guy, there is no water here. I have no windows in this room, and there is no food here unless I say so. So don't worry about having any little accidents hmm? Heh heh, well I shall return to you in a few hours."

The fat man nearly skipped out of the room and shut the door.