Vanishag

“So” said the Vanishag, the glow from it’s red eyes casting twisting shadows on the walls of the cave, “it seems that I am in need of your assistance.” But I am getting ahead of myself.  It all began about a year ago, as I was strolling through a local park, alone except for an empty Yoohoo bottle that was rolling along like a tumbleweed.  It seemed to me at first that there were rather more trees than I had remembered, and larger, too.  A branch scrabbed at my knee, poking though my slacks and nicking me.  I bent over to remove the thing and noticed that the groundskeeper had been remiss in his duties; the dirt was