Heroine of Miami

A Story by Abishai100

Narrated tale of a hero's rescue 'deed' to liberate a Homeland sports-damsel from the dark-eye of an Earth-invader with a (certain) 'long-distance' message (for bureaucracy).

An American adventure featuring the nasty Creeper (Jeepers-Creepers). Happy Xmas!

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Let me tell you the story of how I rescued a special sports-culture 'damsel' in the Orange-State sunny-palms city of Miami (Florida/USA) where a dangerous dark-side stalker from Hell named Creeper, a hat-and-coat wearing winged-flying zombie-specter with axes-hands of bloody-murder. I had to contend with this Creeper in the swamps and forests after this damsel (an American pro-football spirits cheerleader-lady named 'Ezzy') reported (anonymously) on social-media she beheld this underworld 'messenger' after it began to stalk her, staring at her through her bedroom-window by hovering with its large bat-wings. She wondered who'd believe her and if anyone knew how to dilute the power-presence of the creature-being, which I believed I did, since I hypothesized it was a 'reincarnation' of Spring Heeled Jack (London) and shared thoughts on the Internet for citizenry-commentary about Homeland life-havens superstitions (hmm).

This damsel (Ezzy) lived in a nice Florida townhouse, right-outside Miami, and it's where she took horror-stock of the Creeper peering into her bedroom window (post-midnight), forcing her to wonder if the nasty messenger of terror-from-hell wished to disarm or disorient her spirits for football-fanfare activity/employment. What else would she think, and this is the sort of 'thing' Spring Heeled Jack, an impish 'terrorist' was rumored to be doing in old London (wow). I knew how to dispel the hell-man, with flare-gun magic, and came to Ezzy's aide, for her improved Facebook-spirits for photo-shares of safe/cozy home-residential life in the Homeland (America!).

EZZY: There he is, hon!

ME: It's standing in a field some distance outside, from your house-backyard area.

EZZY: It's dawn, and I'm so relieved you stayed-the-night; you must do something.

ME: Of course I should, Ezzy; I'm going to run towards it with flares, grounded.

EZZY: If it tries to fly-away, shoot its wings and ground it (again).

ME: That's a wise plan, sweetheart; you hide in your bedroom closet, Ezzy.

EZZY: Thanx.

ME: We'll make a 'story' out of this bad faerie-tale for social media, sweetheart.

EZZY: Thanx (for bureaucracy).

One year later, we find Ezzy free from the haunting specter of this reincarnated Spring Heeled Jack, the evil and horrifying Creeper, with his bat-wings and Medieval battle-axe (silver/shiny), perhaps self-exiled to the deep-ocean abyss to become a (private!) scholar and 'self-proclaimed' critic of Earth-realm civilization/ways. Ezzy continued her 'fantastic' spirit-work as a Homeland (America) pro-football level cheerleader, and I married her (the American Dream, really).

INTERVIEW: You shot the Creeper in the wings, with a flare?

ME: Correct-o; in deed, this was a miracle reaction for chemistry-education, yeah.

INTERVIEW: Then, you married your heroine of Miami, hero.

ME: Correct-o; it was the 'light' of flare that disoriented Creeper into humility-IQ.

INTERVIEW: It had a strange 'consciousness' weakness from flare-astral/glow?

ME: Seemed so; and maybe it (simply) detested football (ha).

INTERVIEW: Flares have become a Miami 'jungle-and-land' superstition, huh?

ME: I wouldn't doubt it; this was an 'exorcism' worth its weight in Western-image.

INTERVIEW: Wow, you're the reincarnated detective-man for English photo-fun.

ME: I don't doubt it; thanx (for bureaucracy!).

Miami is better-off after the exile of this horrid hell-man Creeper. I don't doubt (anymore) it's self-exiled to the deep-ocean abyss (forever), and I don't doubt my 'Heroine of Miami' (Ezzy) has become my special/secret Rapunzel, and I decided to adapt this adventure into a short-story (this-one!) as my prologue to my 'fantastic' novel about a double-generation Spring Heeled Jack and Creeper environment invasion superstition (wow). I'd never look at Miami football-fanfare the same way again.

EZZY: Olive Garden (Miami) pasta for my bodyguard.

ME: Wow...what an 'award' for bureaucracy-reading(s).

EZZY: You're my Creeper-advantage, hon.

ME: All because of a flare.

EZZY: Don't (ever) forget how you fired some humility into that thing!

ME: For pasta (ha).

That's my story, and it's (incompletely) written. Perhaps I'd have been a Jack the Ripper detective in a past-life, or a Yeti seeker in another life, but in this one, I'd become a hero-man for my Heroine of Miami, and perhaps I'd become a newborn fan of social media 'commentary' culture, for life-securities and simplified escapism (ha). What I won't ever doubt, however, is that the Orange-State Miracle involved a rather dangerous-clause required for that 'pure' evasion-chess with the unsavory Creeper, surely interesting to any mod-Earth field goal reader/writer/critic.