Finding a Phantom

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Blossom Windyclaw walked slowly through the tunnel, her huge furry head hanging low to the stone. Gone. Her whole pack was gone. It had taken only a few minutes for the phantoms to attack and send her entire pack into a deep sleep.

A permanent one.

She could still see her father lying in the grass as phantom poison dripped from his mouth. She could see her mother, covered by the weeds of the small pond near their home. Her sister, still baring her teeth at an attacking phantom. Her best friend . . .

Hot tears ran down Blossom’s fur. She stared through blurry eyes at the walls of stone on either side of her. Until now, this ancient tunnel had been her sanctuary. She had explored it with her pack, feeling the adrenaline rush through her veins with every close call with collapsing debris.

Now there was only silence and the occasional rumble of a distant cave-in. Blossom raised her muzzle to the ceiling and howled, long and loud.

“Why, God? Why did you take my pack from me?” she yelled. She sank to the floor and wrapped her tail around her face, sobbing. Her entire pack had believed in God . . . and now they were all dead.

All but Blossom. She sniffed and rose slowly, closing her eyes. At least God was still with her. She didn’t know why her pack had been taken, but there had to be a reason. He always had a reason. Blossom sighed deeply and whispered her favorite verse to herself.

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” she said.

Her ears perked up as a noise floated around the corner. She sniffed cautiously, but there were only the scents of rotting wood and musty stone . . . and a phantom. Her fur stiffened, and she growled deep in her throat.

At last she could avenge her pack.

Blossom leapt around the corner with a snarl, but her paws scrabbled to a stop. In front of her was a little phantom, half buried in the remains of a cave-in from farther down the tunnel. It glanced up in terror, cringing back as it tried to pull its eight legs in closer. It was trapped, and it knew it. The phantom squeaked softly as its single eye filled with tears – tears that Blossom recognized.

“Is that why you took my pack, Lord?” Blossom whispered. “So I could relate to a – a phantom?” She narrowed her eyes and turned away from the phantom’s gaze, confused. “But they’re our enemies! If someone saw me helping a phantom, they’d – ”

She paused as the phantom squeaked again. Blossom looked closer, and her eyes widened as she saw dark bruises covering the phantom’s tentacles.

“You’re hurt,” Blossom said in surprise. The phantom stared back at her, its eye shimmering in fear. Blossom sighed slowly and raised a paw, waving her tail. “I – I guess if I was hurt, I’d want someone to help me.”

She closed her eyes again, a small smile crossing her lips as she prayed.

“Okay, God. I’ll do it.”

The phantom flinched as Blossom approached, shutting its eye tightly. Blossom gently knocked a piece of wood off it with her paw. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here to help you.” Blossom got no reply except a tiny whimper, and her gaze softened. “I’m telling the truth. Look, the wood’s gone now,” she added, pushing the rest of the debris aside.

Finally the phantom looked up at her, another tear rolling down its cheek. It squeaked in surprise as Blossom nuzzled its face. Then it cuddled back against her for warmth, sweeping its tentacles across the floor. Blossom curled around her new friend, brushing her tail over its cool skin. “Don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll be your pack,” Blossom whispered. The phantom sighed contentedly, rubbing its face in Blossom’s fur.

More tears rolled down Blossom’s face, but now they were tears of joy. “Thank you, God,” she said quietly. “Thank you for my new pack member.” Together, she and the phantom curled into a tight, furry ball, resting peacefully on the smooth stone of the ancient tunnel – and together, the pair fell asleep, sharing in each other’s warmth and friendship.

Bible Verse: Jeremiah 29:11

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