Spying on the Monsters' festival

Book Review by: auxie

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An invisible alien invades a Monsters’ territory and spies on the ongoing fete; revealing everything as is, recounting to humans. The alien – male or female, not clear, ‘unless otherwise’, but certainly is an exciting character with a beguiling tone.

CHAPTER ONE

Ka-boom!
I give a bow,
Gossip time – oh, yes gossip.
It’s that time of the year once again.
I’ve finally discovered a great deal – all that unfolds
on the big day; dawn to dusk, precisely…
‘GOTHIC!’

The usually bustling city centre of the Arcane Capital
looked unquestionably deserted. It was the day of the
Monsters’ Festival. Most shops and other outlets had
begun winding up four days previously, in preparation for the
closure. They were very certain that chaos was bound to befall
on the fateful day and the whirl would most likely bubble over,
cascading to undesignated areas of the closest neighbouring
lands.

It was a very special day for monsters in the nearby kingdom,
Colossus, when they got together in honour of their remarkable
tradition.
It happened over and over; they behaved like they had just
signed a deed of conveyance to possess that entire part of
the world every time they held the huge fiesta. Nothing else
ever mattered to them except achieving their own maximum
gemütlichkeit. They held the lavish celebrations once yearly.
It had been felicitously christened and known as Colossus
Monsters’ Boisterous Day!

The burly-built, six-armed giant Jack-eyed, who was the
reigning king of Colossus, was the first one to arrive at the
venue on the day. As the leader, he was also to be the master of
ceremonies according to their tradition. The festival was to be
held at the prestigious Behemoth Hall.
It was very early, nautical dawn, when the Monster-king got
to Behemoth. He took a couple of slow, deep breaths, puffing
his chest – in and out, in and out – feeling the intimate flow
of air. His exhalation gusted out into the crisp atmosphere like
scalding steam swirling from the spout of a hot teapot.

As soon as he entered the gate, he leaned back against a
boulder and took a prolonged pause to meditate. There was
a whiff of earth coming from organic debris, combined with
a fresh green scent that rose with no interruptions from the
surrounding trees and other plants. Untarnished nature. He
could not resist marvelling at the gushy scent, as it was gently
transported into his space by the early morning wind. To
him, it depicted the warm promise of a successful Boisterous
Fiesta. It got him utterly enthusiastic and he exuded infectious
confidence. With broadened shoulders and flamed-up chest,
he was ready for the next item on the Boisterous Day To Do list –
security checks. Behemoth gate had still not been fixed after the
top hinge had been ripped off in a barbaric wild rush that had
sprung up on the day of the previous fiesta. The top structure of
the gate had been apparently left deformed too.

Without delay, Jack-eyed embarked on the essential
operation… going right around Behemoth yard, carefully
scanning every angle, hunting down anything awry. He
trampled on a thick carpet of fallen leaves and branches. His
feet went stumping all the way around, with every step making
a very loud rustling noise, which echoed in the nearby shrubby
thicket. Nobody ever raked away the dead matter. It belonged.
Jack-eyed’s orbs kept sharply alert as he manoeuvred
around, slowly performing his tasks. Right off the bat, a shiny
object caught his eye. He was now at the middle section at
the back of the building. It was a tin; lodged behind a gutter,
adjacent to where he stood still. He glared at it with a quizzical
expression on his face. It was metallic – light refractive, and
yellowish in colour. The object was more or less the size of a
large ostrich egg, but perfectly cylindrical and corrugated. They
never used or touched such a thing. Not in Colossus. If the
mammoth leader’s eyes spat fire, in nanoseconds the tin would
incinerate. He fought with it with his glare…

CHAPTER FIVE
Excerpt:

“No time to cut! Just tear the cabbage, stupid! Tsktsk
you love wasting time… knives to the bin
now – I said all the… hey! It’s Boisterous dash!”
The monster head cook was belligerent in the space-constricted
kitchen of Behemoth.
“What did I say? Even that onion doesn’t need a knife –
conscience – conscience… won’t it whisper some sense into
you? Nature already slits it for you – just peel, dismantle and
chuck!”
She blinked nonstop and rested her fists on a table for
support… trying to calm her breathing that had gone wayward
hyper.
After about a minute, she walked over and picked a few
roots from a basket. She stuffed them into her mouth in a flash.
“I hope they’re washed,” the cuisine master recited in an
adenoidal pitch, looking up for a response whilst crunching
down the roots. No one answered.
“I see my voice going croaky before the clock even strikes
twelve…” Food-Killer complained, making loud breathy noises
again. She doddered away from the hub of activity, shaking her
head. She explored around for a perfect spot to sit.
She planted herself on a large stockpot, who cared about
what was inside? The lid protected the contents, although it was
dingy with only a few isolated flecks revealing its original colour.
Stuck and comfortable on the stockpot, she kept barking orders
as she picked her nose. Her eyes, meanwhile, kept wandering
unfalteringly, literally turning what is usually a reflex to a freewill
action and barely blinking at all.
“Throw me four roots there. I want devil’s claws,” she called
out to a cook who was walking past the basket and they were
tossed to her right away. Food-Killer’s hands were already open
to strike a catch, but they all fell onto the floor just close-by. To
the surprise of the cooks who were following, she quietly picked
the roots up without any complaints.
She luxuriously extended her legs, resting her feet on a
medium-sized cask that was holding extra juice as she crunched
down her snack...