The Urban Legends and Horror Contest

I wrote this two years ago for English class...it puts a wacky mythological twist on one of the basic urban legends. Enjoy!




Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Sphinx. I really don’t know what I was thinking when I volunteered to host the annual banquet of the mythical beasts. But here I am with my dining hall all decked out and full of goodies for myself and my mythical friends and enemies. Oh, no. Here comes Mr. Paws, my calico cat. I can’t help being fond of cats; I am a Sphinx, after all.

Mr. Paws jumps up on the table. I yell at him to get off but to no avail. I walk over to the table and forcibly remove him from the platter of fish. I carry Mr. Paws through the house to the back door and set him outside. On my way back to the dining hall, I tell the butler to come fix up the fish platter.

I hear the ring of the doorbell. The guests have begun to arrive. I go to the door to greet them. The first arrivals are the harpies. I tell them there is a small table set aside for them on the far side of the room. Next come the dragon and Medusa. I send the dragon to alert my human servants not to look into or enter the dining hall without a mirror to look through. Pegasus comes daintily into the house with a centaur close on his heels. Soon the Minotaur, the fire-breathing bulls, and the Kraken arrive. We all sit down to eat.

An hour and a half later, as we are finishing the desert course, we hear a quiet knock on the door to the kitchen. I rise to answer it. Behind the door I find the butler. He informs me that he has grave news: he found Mr. Paws dead on the back stoop. I gasp and tell him that Mr. Paws had eaten off of the fish platter. The butler solemnly advises me to get all of the guests who had eaten the fish taken to the hospital immediately.

I quickly reviewed what each of my friends had eaten. Only Pegasus and the fire-breathing bulls would not eat any kind of meat. All the others, I knew, had eaten the fish. Back in the dining hall, I called for attention and told my guests of the problem. We rushed to the hospital to get our stomachs pumped.

When I arrived back, I was exhausted. The guests dispersed to their own homes. As I turned to go upstairs, the doorbell rang again. I opened the door to find my next door neighbor. He is, by the way, a very appetizing young human. He told me that he hadn’t wished to disturb my party, and he said he was very sorry that he had run over my cat, Mr. Paws. That settled the question. He made a very tasty midnight snack.