The Legend of Mr. Moo: A Fictional Story by Aurora R.
“Gather around, children!” Leona said merrily.
She watched as her six wonderful grandchildren huddled around her, watching in awe.
“Are you going to tell us another story today, Granny?” one of her grandchildren, Ora, asked, excited.
Leona nodded, smiling, then flopped on the red armchair, helping herself with her cane. The fire coming from the chimney lit up her face, serving as the only light source in the night.
“Let me tell you about the Legend of Mr. Moo...”
80 years ago…
Myra had been 25 years old for centuries. She had watched all her friends and family die countless times, had fallen in love repeatedly, and moved so much it’d be easier to say where she hadn’t been than where she had. She had tried to find the cause for this, posing as a scientist, a doctor, and even a teacher, but with no luck. Now, she only knew two things for certain: she had her gifts for a reason, and that reason was to be a hero.
That’s right, Myra was a secret hero. No one knew about her existence, except the lives she saved. Saved from what, you may ask? Humans, in their greedy and selfish quest for power, were in yet another war. Myra currently lived in a small rural village particularly targeted by the war, and tried to save as many people as she could, even though they were humans. And she wasn’t.
Then... what was she?
Myra didn’t know that herself. Between her white and black cow ears and tail, and the golden cowbell tied around her neck that wouldn’t come off, she didn’t know what was weirder about her. Probably not the cowbell, she’d figured. But, then again, those things were what made Myra, Myra. Or, as she was known, Mr. Moo. Well, she was against the whole “mister” thing, but when she rescued people she usually didn’t show herself much, so they made up all sorts of things.
So, as Mr. Moo jumped from rooftop to rooftop, leaving ding dong noises as she went, she heard a cry of terror from the city plaza. She immediately got there, ready to protect innocent villagers. What she saw shocked her.
The buildings in the plaza, all the shops, and restaurants, had been destroyed, as well as the statue erected on the fountain. All that remained was a little girl with a teddy bear, five soldiers, and piles of ashes. Ashes that once were humans.
Myra clasped a hand over her mouth, then took a deep breath and jumped off the roof, landing between the soldiers and the little girl. She really had to show herself this time, or else…
The soldiers took a slight step back, then one of them demanded hastily, “Who are you?”
Myra smiled, “Better yet, who are moo?”
The soldiers looked at each other, confused. Myra took that chance to strike.
She plummeted herself into the soldier that had spoken, sending him crashing into a house. Super strength, check. The other four soldiers started shooting at her, but she didn’t even try to dodge them. When they hit her, she’d only grit her teeth, then smile and encourage them to keep going. Invulnerability, check. Another one of the soldiers dropped his weapon and sent a fist flying at her face, which she caught before it could hit her, using the momentum to send him flying. The other three soldiers looked at her, their knees shaking. Two of them dropped their weapons and ran away, while the last one narrowed his eyes at her. Mr. Moo smirked. She liked challengers.
Myra gestured for him to come forth, then touched her cowbell, which immediately started glowing. The soldier seemed surprised, but he held his ground. Suddenly, milk started pouring out of the cowbell, as sharp as a dagger and twice as deadly, and started chasing the now cowardly soldier. Deadly milk, also check. It was pretty pathetic, but it did its job.
Myra saluted with two fingers. “Farewell, my friend!”
She turned towards the terrified black-haired girl with the teddy bear, who said, “Thank you so much, miss!”
Mr. Moo patted her head softly and started walking away.
“Hey, miss? What’s your name?” the little girl asked.
“Mr. Moo!” Myra responded, climbing on a rooftop again.
“Huh? But you’re a lady, miss! How come it’s ‘mister?’” the girl inquired.
Myra laughed as she started running away, coming up with the perfect reply for her exit: “Ms. Moo sounds bad!”
Leona finished the story and waited for the children to share their thoughts.
“What happened to Mr. Moo, Granny?” Kezon, the oldest of the boys, asked.
“Yeah! Is she still a hero?” Lan exclaimed.
Leona didn’t reply; instead, she looked near the window, where there was a tiny table with an old teddy bear on it, then she looked outside. All she saw was the tip of a cow tail and heard a ding and a dong, but it was enough for her to recognize the long-lost hero.
Mr. Moo wasn’t done yet.