Milten & Percy - The Castle of Skeletons - Florian C Booktian - E-Book

Milten & Percy - The Castle of Skeletons E-Book

Florian C Booktian

0,99 €


Detective Percy Meercat get's stuck with an intern: Milten Greenbutton, a young but so far unsuccessful inventor. Percy, a proud meerkat, is burnt out and desperatly looking to go on vacation. He ends up in Sharpytown with Milten by his side, and later on, in bed with a good-looking B&B owner after an exuberant party. But appearances are deceptive. Soon the peaceful town turns into a sinister nightmare and the detective stands alone against dark magic, beasts and an immortal warlord. ~ General Information ~Immerse yourself in Galaxy # 590B, the new fantasy universe by Florian C. Booktian. Filled with strange creatures, unique locations and two unforgettable friends: Milten and Percy

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Seitenzahl: 266


Table of Contents

Titel Page



























Thank You

About The Author

Coming Soon



Florian C. Booktian


Milten & Percy


- The Castle of Skeletons -


Gnearth Novel #1














Copyright © 2020 Florian C. Booktian

Original German Edition © 2015 Florian C. Booktian

Cover design by: Chuck Patterson

German Edition edited by: Sybille Weingrill

English Edition edited by: Teresa Frith

Beat reader: Jan




All rights reserved . Reprint - even partially – only permitted with the written permission of the author.

[email protected]



This story takes place in Galaxy #590B. A somewhat poor and rundown galaxy whose greatest achievement was a copy of planet Earth. Right now, the year 2015 had just begun on this exact copy, and Galaxy # 590B was glad to finally have all the teething troubles behind it, that an Earth type planet comes with. The dinosaurs had returned to their home planet, the world wars were finished, and all the aliens had lost interest in the blue planet, on which television broadcasts were now considered a full-fledged recreational activity.

Everything was peaceful.

As peaceful as half a planet could get.

You see, on the day of delivery, the account balance of the owner of Galacy #590B was so low, all he could only afford was half the planet Earth. Tobias, the owner of Galaxy #590B, was forced to weld half of the Earth together with a less expensive planet.

Half a planet just wouldn’t do. He was tired of people sailing off the edge of the world. And then there was the inner core of the planet, which was oozing out on one side, which meant it had to be constantly refilled or gravity on the planet took on a life of its own. Never mind the water drifting off into space causing all sorts of trouble.

A decision had to be made!

Tobias, the creator, chose the inhabited half of the planet Gnaa, much to the regret of the local inhabitants, who suddenly found themselves in close proximity to the human species. A reality not fancied by many lifeforms.

Gnaa was home to all sorts of mythical creatures, organisms and monsters, talking animals, and beings which on Earth where only known from picture books or horrendously cheap movies. But the decision to fuse the planet halves was made and soon they were stitched together. Now, dwarves roamed the streets of London wondering if digging for rough diamonds in the city's underground tunnels was worth the trouble. Masses of vampires invaded Transylvania to take a vacation and to visit relatives who had long been forgotten. Some of them had sadly been killed by a number of humans, which had turned vampire hunting in to a bizarre sport.

Glass snakes, which glittered in the sunlight and therefore usually wore a tailor-made jacket to stay at least somewhat under the radar, began stealing the wallets from unsuspecting flea market visitors to drown themselves in candy.

At the beginning of the fusion the culture shock was next to unimaginable on both sides of the planet.

Over time, the glass snakes got quite thick from all the candy which they bought at the end of their theft. Many of them where found lying around unable to move and therefore, were transported to a diet camp. Television shows featuring those poor things fighting their addiction and trying to get back their wiggling weight where quite popular on both sides of the planet.

The vampires, saddened by the loss of their former family members, got quite angry with some of the inhabitants of Transylvania. However, they enjoyed growing their numbers by simply turning humans, something that didn’t work with most of the creatures living on Gnaa.

And the dwarves of London, not to be confused with the Werewolves of London, got a good talking to by the highest ranking Lady in the country, who called herself a queen, tax founded and everything. They had to promise to stop digging in the tunnels. «Or else», the Queen told them, firmly shaking her finger.

The little men and woman nodded, holding onto their hats with their beards shaking. You have to know; dwarves are as good at lying as they are at digging for treasure.

Rather unusual for humanity, they initiated a cultural exchange program, hoping to learn more about the planet of Gnaa, which now took up space where once Russia and Asia had sat. Things started out a little rough. The first human delegation was seen as a present, and was eaten whole, a move which led to many a raised eyebrow on Earth.

Humans which were used to quite a lot of cruelty amongst each other, had never had to deal with an entire group of them being eaten, while being sent out to greet someone. As it turned out, it can be quite hard to exchange phone numbers if your opposite is trying to bite your head off.

Slowly, but surely they approached each other.

With time the inhabitants of Gnaa understood what the Earthlings were really all about: mainly, not to be eaten on first sight. Gnaa started to supply rare resources, which mainly consisted of things that had been dead for thousands of years crushed into a black goo, which the Earthlings where going crazy for. As compensation, Earth provided them with roller coaster rides and velvety soft toilet paper.

Friendly relationships began to develop. And in the case that every now and then someone on Gnaa couldn’t resist a tasty fat German Bavarian or a fine looking blond American woman, Gnaa sent over a gratuitous unicorn and the bad media over the incident was drowned in blushes for the horse’s cuteness.

But with the new friendship between the planet halves, tensions between individual creatures arose. Certain nations on Earth were confronted with the fact that a nuclear bomb was about as threatening to Gnaa as a sharp needle for a crocodile.

Much on the contrary.

Some creatures of Gnaa loved radioactive pollution and couldn't get enough of it. They had special limbs which helped them absorb any kind or radiation.

It goes without saying that certain human leaders were seriously offended. The bomb was previously regarded as the ultimate showpiece of human warfare. Telephone calls were made and angry letters were being written. Fingers raised and speeches written. Mankind would not be at the mercy of a bunch of trolls and speaking lions. They would indeed be ready for any war to come!

The united government of Gnaa was left in disbelief. War wasn’t something they were too keen about. They had never quite taken a liking to it, so to say. Of course there were bar fights which turned bloody. Of course there were such things as warlords and tyrants who beheaded people and found it amusing to have battles between their armies which could match anything gruesome Earth could offer, but right now, war wasn’t on anyone's mind over in Gnaa. The idea of fighting the entire other side of the planet, which was still new to them, seemed exhausting and pointless.

Since the united government of Gnaa didn’t want to go to war, or raid any Earth towns or countries, it just didn’t happen. Much to the regret of many war hungry humans, the old saying remained true: it takes two to fight, and if the other one simply doesn’t want to, then that’s that.

Gnaa declared their intentions in a friendly letter, and asked if the humans would much mind living in a friendly co-habitation sort of thing. While most of humanity was relieved not to be devoured by otherworldly creatures, the militaries of the Earth could be heard uttering one big collective sigh of frustration.

And so began a time, in which the people of Earth and the creatures of Gnaa started to get to know each other. Affiliate programs were launched, questions asked and soon, advantages exchanged, which proved beneficial for both. Here are a few of them:

The garbage eaters of Unkus, who feed on nuclear waste and nuclear radiation, found a vast amount of food in old abandoned salt mines and storage facilities beneath mountains where the humans had hidden away their radioactive waste as if they hopped the problem would take care of itself. In this case, it did.

Environmentalists on Earth found themselves robbed of many stable arguments against nuclear power and there were more plants built right away, in order to satisfy the yet still small power demand over in Gnaa. Electrical gadgets were entirely new to Gnaa. Although some sort of electricity had been discovered, most were still using candles and petrol lamps, since no one had ever looked into electrical lights. Television and computers where welcomed into the home of many. In addition to video game consoles and electric shavers.

While Gnaa was in and of itself doing well when it came to social structure, the concept of building a prison to hold criminals was new to them. Usually when you got caught stealing or murdering you were hung by your ears an fed lukewarm vegetable soup twice a day until you started to break down and apologize vastly and promised to never ever do it again. Sure, some people were executed, but that wasn’t planned. Turns out some criminals don’t do so well hanging by their ears for days and weeks eating nothing but vegetable soup.

Then there were politics and bureaucracy. Gnaa had only erected its united government once Earth became attached to it. Before that there were at times ridiculously small principalities which were sometimes run by monarchs who after many generations where suffering from such a bad case of inbreeding so that they were not able to tie their own shoes without the help of at least two other people.

As you can imagine, the moral code of such towns and areas was sometimes made up on the spot. In one town you got your head chopped of for looking at the Patrician’s wife for too long (some of them were on the rather wild side), in other towns it was deemed an outrage not so stare. Proper etiquette was running rampant, and confused both upstanding citizens and criminals who couldn't determine if they were staying true to their evil self.

The united government did away with that, and established a criminal code for all of Gnaa. And that’s one of the things they learned from the humans of Earth. Neat, isn’t it?

That new criminal’s code, which was the same as on Earth, needed to be respected and for that, it needed the creatures of Gnaa and people of Earth to work together. A new kind of law enforcement was born.

As part of that law enforcement unit, a detective from Gnaa took over cases involving both Gnaa and the Earth's side, many of them taking place in a town called Bimbeldove, which sat right between the crossover between the two planet halves. His name was Percy Meercat. It goes without saying that he is a Meerkat. Walking, Talking and shooting, if necessary.

This, is his first adventure. Well at least the first where we are following along if you want to get down into the details of it. Enjoy.



William and Robert had been on the road all day long. The sun had gone down a while back, and their car headlights where eating their way through the darkness of the night. The goal of their journey brought them to the border between Earth and Gnaa. Within this area, the borderlines where blurry and the dangers were a great many.

A few minutes ago they had passed a town sign with a large pen over it that said Shaprytwown. Just beyond the small town lay exactly what they had been looking for for so long.

The tomb of Skull Farach the Hatefull.

William and Robert were Earth historians, and the history of Earth was well known to them. However, Gnaa was entirely different. Mystical, even magical at times. Now and again they were tempted to set foot on Gnaa to look something up they had found on one of the many scrolls that are available, containing some of the craziest stories of Gnaa’s history.

The grave they were looking for belonged to one of the most gruesome tyrants Gnaa had ever known. A handful of soldiers had managed to surprise the tyrant in the middle of the night, carry him off and bury him deep underground. Some say, he was buried alive and is still down there somewhere, alive, breathing, his eyes open staring into the black nothingness. Waiting for a loyal follower to come along and bring him back to the surface.

«I think the entrance has to be somewhere over there,» William said, slowing down the car. The wheels came to a halt.

And right he was. The grave was close. Very close.

Robert stared into the darkness. A single drop of sweat rolled down his forehead. «Maybe we should turn around? What are we even going to do with him if we find him?»

«We just want to have a look. Didn’t you tell me a day ago that you want to see him face to face? »

«The butcher of a thousand innocent souls», Robert mumbled, staring into the darkness. «Buried in a glass casket, deep underground.»

William got out of the car. «We’ll take a picture of him. It’s going to be our Christmas card!. Look, I even got two Santa hats with me,» he said, pulling two Santa hats out of his backpack.

Robert was still staring, sitting in the car. He had read quite a bit about him, the owner of that tomb. He knew exactly what Skull had done and how he did it. If the historians of Gnaa had recorded the truth - and they usually did - then, after every half-dozen battles, Skull Farach the Hatefull killed all of his generals and appointed the bravest fighters of the last battle to succeed them.

The nickname Skull had been given to him by his soldiers due to his skinny body, which seemed as if someone had covered a skeleton with skin. His surname he gave himself. He was a strange creature, and no one was quite sure where he came from or what kept him alive. Neither did he.

But one thing Skull Farach the Hatefull was dead sure about, was that his heart was bare of any love and forgiveness. He wanted to reign over and battle his enemies. And an evil mind which commands armies to slay the innocent, will never run out of enemies. He once dictated a speech which started out with, “I will govern you with the force of my will and the brutality of my strongest warriors. You will stand by me, or I will see you kneel in the blood of your loved ones.»

Robert blinked repeatedly.

He couldn’t shake the thought What are we doing here? What was I thinking? We live a life without trouble and now we go looking for it out of curiosity?

Darkness was all around him.

The treetops above Robert swallowed the light of the stars. It was dark enough for someone to appear right next to him without them even noticing.

Fire broke the blackness in front of Robert's eyes.

William had lit a torch and was hitting it against the front of the car to catch his attention. «Get moving, we have a long drive back ahead of us.»

Robert got out of the jeep with a queasy feeling and followed his brother through a stone archway, which had been built hundreds of years ago. Individual stones had fallen out of the wall and an unreadable lettering above the archway revealed something in one of Gnaa's many dialects.

Deep in his guts Robert knew, they would never make that drive back home.

Inside the cave there was a uncomfortable damp temperature. Every now and then something seemed to move in the dark, but escaped fast enough not to be recognized by the light of the torch. Single animal bones and skulls were scattered on the ground, as if something large had eaten most of its meals in this cave.

William froze as a huge skull appeared in front of him. Robert bounced against his back and fell behind him into the dusty dirt.

His brother first poked against the skull, and then to Roberts surprise, began to laugh. «Seems to be a former resident of the cave,» said William, examining the skull. «Look at that shape. It only had one eye, a cyclops. And there!» , He said and pointed to another skull further away. «It has two curly horns on his forehead.»

«And long sharp tusks as well,» said Robert and swallowed. He didn’t mind those creatures all being dead. Not one bit.

William was admiring one of the tusks, touching it from end to end. «They look like they once belonged to a walrus. What an impressive creature. It must have been king among hunters - in its lifetime, of course. «His eyes sparkled with an unhealthy fascination. Gnaa was mostly unexplored. The only things known so far were what the individual halves of the planets shared with each other. Of course there was exploration going on, but Gnaa was a dangerous place with many secrets. Some were better left untouched.

Robert was fascinated by the unknown as much as his brother William, but he also recognized the dangers that being too curious can bring along. For example, the many people who had recently disappeared and had been, allegedly deported to Gnaa. No one knew why or where they had been taken.

Robert knew his brother wanted more from this experience than a simple holiday card. William sensed fame and adventure. Tombs, meant to be lifted and long forgotten kingdoms that desired to be discovered. Those where his intentions.

The two walked on past the long skeleton of the giant skull. Lower and deeper down into the cave. They followed paths that they were not sure had been created as such. When you are desperate to find your way, anything can look like the right way.

They slipped down ledges and squeezed themselves through dense crevices that offered so little space that the slightly heavier William got stuck a couple of times and needed to be pushed by Robert. They both had begun to sweat, and it wasn’t only the exhaustion that got to them. They had climbed and walked, squeezed and crawled deep into the cave and were now several miles below the surface.

«Over there,» William said, raising the torch. «Do you see it?»

Robert walked past him to decipher the old stone tablet that lay before them in a small niche. Water which had been dripping from the ceiling for decades had washed off the upper part.

«Do you understand what it says?» William asked.

Robert adjusted his glasses and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. «I think so,» he said, clearing his throat. «Anyone who has made it this far, be warned: The grave lies deep, deeper than you will ever be able to go. Turn back, let rest, who may not be disturbed. And if you feel you can’t resist, say these words, and put your courage to the test.»

«Put your courage to the test?» William repeated in disbelief.

«I think it's a warning.»

«Of what? Everything is dead down here. Even our buddy at the entrance. What do the words say? »

«I do not know; I can’t translate it. It's some sort of dialect.» Robert cleared his throat again. «Varuta septa, Varuta napita torkatu, Varuta durtares morte.»

«Probably just some nonsense,» William said.

Then the dirt from the ceiling fell onto his face. Too much for it to be a coincidence.

The earth above them shook, and a breeze far from the surface blew out the torch in William’s hands. The two found themselves in absolute darkness, but this time deep inside a cave which was designed as a maze. Robert and William had no idea how lucky they had been to find their way through it.

Panic started to rise and chance was about to change shifts with bad luck and the inevitable that comes to all, who are too curious for their own good.

With the two brothers caught underground, something came to life at the entrance of the cave. Something very big, very old, that had not moved for decades.

And his loyalty was even bigger than his skull.

Before Robert closed his eyes forever, he saw a bony skull with a reddish brown spot on his face. And the tusks which impaled his brother, where those of a Walrus.



Percy was driving down the street in his '68 Ford Mustang, looking for the nearest gas station. The car had been modified for him. Even though Percy was almost three times as large as an ordinary Meerkat at 3'11, it required some changes to make the Mustang work the way he needed it to. The driver's seat had been raised and the pedals extended. The automatic gearbox did the rest, with the latter being more of a comfort than a necessity.

Percy spent a lot of time in his Mustang. He was constantly driving back and forth between Gnaa and the Earth. Although he was assigned to the Bimbeldove Police Department, many of his cases required travel. Places that need to be looked at, people and creatures who needed to be talked to.

Right now it was two o'clock in the morning and Percy was on his way back home to Bimbeldove. And much to his displeasure, he had run out of two things: cigarettes and batteries for his discman. Percy had fallen in love with much of Earths music, especially any genre containing the word “Rock». Most music made on Gnaa sounded like someone was grunting into the microphone while three people in the back were busy learning an instrument they had never seen before.

He had been on Earth for only two years so far and was still busy listening through vast stacks of new bands he could discover and cherish. Right now, a disc labeled «ELO - Discovery» was spinning in his discman. And the album was as fine a piece of music as he had ever heard in his entire life.

Percy peeked out from under his sunglasses, the second permanent companion just after his Mustang. He avoided taking off his sunglasses. No matter what time of day. The reason for that was simply it made him feel better, at least that was what he told everyone who asked him.

Only a few people knew the truth. The black rings around his eyes, which were supposed to protect him from the sun when he looked into the distance, were very small. Underdeveloped, the doctor had called them. Percy had been a premature baby – same as with many other things in his life, he couldn't get there fast enough.

Therefore, he always wore sunglasses.

He passed a neon sign which announced the next gas station. Percy took his paw off the gas and stopped next to a gas pump.

Tired, he opened the door and plopped down. As he stretched, his bones cracked. He now had been on duty for two straight years. Two hard years that had drained his strength. His patience was exhausted and his nerves were shot. The next dummy who dared to make a fool of him, would feel his claws.

While walking towards the entrance he put a cigarette in his mouth, which he had fished out of the ashtray of his car, and lit it with a match. A big toke filled his lungs with nicotine. Maybe he wouldn't even be patient enough to smile at the next idiot who crossed his path, who knew. Since he was back on Earth, it wouldn’t take all too long to find a mouth breathing goon who nudged him the wrong way. He took another puff of his cigarette and tried to push the negative thoughts aside. He just wanted to get his stuff and get on home.

As he entered the little supermarket, a doorbell rang.

«You cannot smoke here,» the cashier told him from a far.

«Apparently I can» Percy said without hesitation.

The cashier shook his head and took care of the next customer. Percy trotted through the corridors, grabbing a bag of chips and batteries for his discman while glancing at the papers.

One of the headlines said: Famous detective arrests gang of smugglers. Below was a picture of Percy staring at the camera as if he was about to tackle the photographer. Percy wrinkled his nose and flicked the ashes of his cigarette onto the floor.

«Move aside, you weasel,» said a flabby guy, pushing Percy aside. The detective was caught off guard and was pushed to the ground.

So that was the guy who was about to get his eyes scratched out. Percy took another drag from the cigarette. But this time the tobacco could not calm him down. He took a good look at the guy. A beer-bellied man with drooping shoulders and a six-pack under his arm. A muscle shirt was stretched over his fat gut and announced: The Planet belongs to humanity. Anything else goes into the zoo.

Percy got up and brushed the dirt off his fur.

«Damn livestock», the flabby guy complained, «There wouldn’t have been something like this back in the god old days, a weasel in my gas station. Is he smoking?», he asked smelling the air, «now they are even using up our cigarettes!» he grumbled. Everything else drowned in a smoker’s cough. «A carton of Marlboros,» the beer-bellied man demanded, spitting a load of yellow slime onto the floor.

Percy looked disgusted at the yellow slobber and scraped together the last bit of courtesy he could muster. There was not much left. «I am not a weasel, but a Meerkat,» he said in a friendly tone. «And I would appreciate it if you apologize to me. You knocked me down.»

And with that the last spark of politeness had been used up. His good manners had been depleted, and now it was up to the beer-bellied flabby guy, to behave properly or to suffer the exhaustion first hand that had built up in Percy over the last two years.

The man leaned down to him «Shove it up your little rat snout you cactus humping desert rat», he said grinning. He took his change from the cashier. «And watch out for my boot once I leave, I might squash you like a fly, because that’s what happens to stinking vermin!»

Stinking Percy thought, sniffing at his forearms. Certainly, his body odor had subsided into a mixture of sweat and dirt. But that was only normal after a twenty-hour shift and over a month on the road with not much more than a washcloth which yearned for a shower itself.

The beer-bellied man turned around and walked towards him. He then tried to kick aside Percy’s tail.

Percy jumped to one side and stared at the attacker, aghast. Percy wiggled his tail as if to test if his furry companion was still alright. No harm had been done.

Percy saw the beer-bellied man climb into a pick-up truck which seemed to contain more rust than truck.

His tail peeked out from behind Percy and pointed towards the pick-up truck, as if to say, «What are we going to do with the guy who's been trying to kick me?

The detective put his groceries on the counter and promised to be back soon.

Enough was enough.

It was time to fight back. That old familiar rage that came was about to be thrown down. That sort of rage which had gotten Percy into trouble now and again. Big trouble.

Normally he moved on two legs with his head held high, but he was much faster on all fours. And that's exactly what he needed now. Percy dropped to his forepaws and ran past the beer-bellied man to the trunk of his Mustang. He opened the lock and grabbed his service weapon, which he had stowed away in a small safe that morning.

Even as he checked the drum of the revolver for bullets and aimed the gun at the pick-up, he realized he was about to commit a great stupidity.

Shame, he thought. One fool makes another, and here we go I guess. He aimed and pulled the trigger.

The next day, the newspapers read:




For Percy the day hadn’t gone very well. At seven o'clock in the morning the physical exhaustion of the past few months had left him just about enough strength to crawl onto the backseat of his Mustang and drift away in a dreamless slumber.

Many miles away, in Sharpytown, the day had just begun.

The town was famous for its crayons which were manufactured in a large factory, and that was the town’s main employer. Their products were shipped all throughout the world. The children of Earth used them to paint pictures, while over in Gnaa the crayons were considered a delicacy due to their clay and wax mines.

The entire working industry of the town was focused on the crayon production. Sharpytown had his own forest that supplied the wood, a large apiary that ensure only the best beeswax was being used, and several large silos of various colors, fats, and adhesives, all of them eventually used as ingredients.

In the morning, as always, workers were busy packaging the last shipments ready to be sent out in truckloads, while new crayons where constantly wrapped, cut and tested for lack of quality. Soon though, the crayon production would be temporarily halted, because all residents were going to meet on the village square for the bicentenary of their hometown.

Those who had finished their shift where busy helping with the preparations for the festivity. Benches were set up on the village square and a large barbecue grill was being connected to a gas cylinder. Drinks were being put in refrigerators and signs hung, so people could see what they had to shell out in order to get that sauerkraut hot dog.

And while the inhabitants were busy preparing, dark clouds were gathering over a certain spot in Sharpytown. They were big and heavy and full of rain. Rain intended for a specific purpose. The clouds settled directly over the gigantic mountain that was known in the town as Dirthill. A mountain so high, that a small town could be buried underneath it. No grass or weeds grew on the bare mountain of earth, almost as if the earth was moving occasionally, preventing any living thing from settling down.

Only a few knew, what was hidden underneath.

A relic from times, long forgotten.

A building once thought of as the Throne of Madness, from which the conquering of the entire planet would be conducted to ensure the enslavement of all living beings.

At least until the architect of such doomery was captured and buried. The building had never come to fulfill its true purpose.

Until now.

The clouds above Dirthill opened up and rain began to wash away the earth, and it wouldn’t stop until what was underneath had been uncovered.