#then a bald man with a flashlight appears

[hfeves]

i'll never get over how cutthroat all characters in the meg movies are towards any form of sealife.

literally just some fish going "blub blub" and jason statham will punch it in the fucking face.

#granted most of the sealife portrayed have malicious intent #however they are just vibing #then a bald man with a flashlight appears #valid reaction tbh #i do adore these movies though #the meg 2 #the meg #h mutters

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: JoelMiller x OC

Note: We're back with Ada and Tommy for this chapter and I've got to say; I like the way they work together and their sibling bond as bro and sis in laws. I have a headcanon that Tommy always wanted a sister when he was little; so now you got one my guy! Hope you enjoy!!

Chapter Twenty Four

Though it took a while to find their way in. Eventually Ada and Tommy found themselves stuck in the darkness with only their flashlights to light the way. It seemed the plan to wait until nightfall had worked. The horde had eventually moved on in search of easier prey. Chasing off after wildlife that had also come out at night to hunt for its next meal. 

To say the abandoned quarantine zone was rather unsettling at night was an understatement. With no streetlights along the roads or storefronts lit up with their open signs hung in the windows, it was like walking through a ghost town. Though with all the bodies of both the long deceased and put down infected littering the floor; it appeared to be an accurate likeness. The shadows seemed to move of their own accord, against the moonlight that hung clearly in the sky. The roads no longer looked like roads anymore, overgrown with an abundance of trees and vines twisting themselves around every building and sprouting from the cracks of the tarmac to the point; the surrounding area looked more jungle than town. Rain water and burst water pipes had run through streets working its way through the decaying structures; leaving nature to craft her own ponds and rivers, bringing with it a long dead old world that was now evolving into something new. The sound of the rushing water did nothing to calm the nerves, and Ada and Tommy were very much still on edge. 

They kept close, both very aware of the fact that neither had any bullets left to defend themselves with; instead taking with them more blunt objects of wood and a lead pipe found in a scramble as they’d made their way inside. It was better than nothing in their opinion.

They moved on, never uttering a word to the other until they came to an abandoned check-in point. Finding bodies of burned infected scattered by the front an old rusted gate. The bodies had long gone cold but as the two shared a look, they both knew it had to be the work of Ellie and Dina. 

They’ve been here. The thought crossed both their minds as they continued on further into the town. It brought with it a sense of relief for Ada. That heaviness in her stomach dissipating even just a little bit, knowing that the girls had made it past the horde and hopefully somewhere safe for the night. She fell back into a steady pace beside Tommy as they walked, hands gripped on both their weapons ready at an instant to strike at any moment. Boots scrapped against the hardened ground, kicking the gravel of loose concrete and crunching dry grass that poked through, in its struggle hide the ugliness of old forgotten roads. 

Breaths echoed in the air that seemed to thicken with tension. Waiting for a screech, a cry or a gut wrenching roar of the infected… But it never came. Silence was all that greeted them. Endless and foreboding. Ada moved to follow her brother in law as he darted down an alleyway, both instinctively keeping their backs against the wall as they moved. And then they heard it. 

A cough. A single cough. 

It stopped them both dead. The anticipation of the silence being shattered had caught them cold. They glanced at one another, Tommy raising his finger to his lips and Ada nodding in understanding as he gestured forward. They made their move, squatting slightly and keeping low as they rushed forward towards the sound. 

The man, around forty years of age, heavy set build and balding slightly, stood with his back to them smoking a cigarette. The two crept up behind, and before Ada could stop herself, stumbled against a shard of glass, smashed from an old car window. The man swiftly turned on his heel at the sound, eyes wide at seeing the two. 

“Oh fuck!” He hissed with hatred in his glare. His hands fumbling for the shotgun strapped to his back, as he moved to aim it at Ada, but Tommy was quicker. Swinging the lead pipe down upon the man's skull with a sickening crack as he fell to the ground. With failing strength the man pulled a blade from his belt; slashing it at Tommy’s middle, the younger Miller quickly sidestepped the attempt as he swung the pipe down over his head over and over. His breath heavy and ragged as he grunted and hissed with every ounce of strength he had in him. The man’s head beaten and crushed, until all that remained was a bloody mess, the splatter marking Tommy’s face as the adrenaline drained from his body in an instant. Letting the bloodied pipe slip from his fingers as he took a step back, he gasped a breath as his chest heaved and burned. 

Ada stood a little shaken for a moment though it quickly passed, as she looked at Tommy. 

“You okay?” She breathed. He nodded weakly. “Yeah. I’m good.” He sighed deeply, leaning over to retrieve his fallen weapon. “Better than him anyway.” He joked darkly with a snicker. Ada couldn't help the breathy laugh that quirked at her lips and exhaled through her nose. She turned to make her way back towards the alley when the sound of his voice called her back. 

“Hey Ada… Check this out.” Tommy hollered after strapping his weapon back onto his backpack, he’d leaned down to check over the dead man’s pockets. But it was the patch worn on his bulletproof vest that had caught his eye. He’d pulled it off the man’s shoulder and threw it to her. She caught it effortlessly, her green eyes narrowing in confusion as she read the letters and stared at the etching of a wolf. 

“WLF? The hell does that stand for??” She wondered. Tommy shrugged.  “No idea, but this bastard must of been pretty fuckin’ important to be this heavily armed.” He said, as he checked over the man’s holsters on his belt. Four pistols, two on each side. A shotgun and sniper rifle strapped to his back too. Wherever the man had come from, he’d obviously been planning to run into a fight. Tommy didn’t waste any time in checking the pistols were loaded before handing two to Ada and taking the other two for himself. 

“Military maybe?” Tommy shrugged again, rising to his feet. Holstering one gun and tucking the other down the waist of his jeans. “If he is; he’s not like any Military person I've ever seen before.” 

“What if he’s ex-Fedra?”

“Whaddya mean??” 

“I mean, every other zone seems to have ended the same as this one… with the residents fighting back against Fedra. What if some of them managed to get away and regrouped to form their own militia?” 

The man pondered it over for a moment; his brows creasing in thought before shrugging once again. “I mean it makes sense. Taking back the town they used to control with the government. I imagine when most of the QZ’s fell, the government high tailed outta the place without a second thought.” Ada nodded in agreement. “Which means there’s more of these bastards around and we need to be careful.” She said, “I just hope the girls haven’t run into em’ yet.” 

With that the two checked themselves over before moving on further down the road. Relieving the dead man of the rest of his weapons, Tommy taking the sniper while Ada had the shotgun. They strode down the street with purpose in their stride before Tommy faltered slightly as he paused in his tracks. 

“Hold on…” He paused. 

“What?”

“If we’re right and there are more of them; then that means they’ll have a base somewhere right? And a base means supplies…” he started, staring at his sister in law with a pointed look. 

“And supplies means…” he trailed off expectantly waiting for her to catch on.  

“Guns. Ammo... I’m with you. But how do we find it?” She finished, crossing her arms over her chest, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. They were both on the same page now. He took a second to survey the area turning on his heel to face her again. His head tilted upwards as she followed his line of sight along the extension of his arm pointing to a building in the distance. 

“We get to higher ground. Get a good lay of the land and we should be able to scope it out with any luck. At least now we’re armed again, we're not running around blind.  But these won’t last long. Especially if we run into any more infected.”  

“Right so… apartment building?”

“Apartment building.” He curtly nodded in agreement as they took off together. 

When they reached the building, dawn was fast approaching. The morning light bursting through the softly painted clouds with warm rays of a red and yellow shade. And though the dawn could be mistaken as perfectly picturesque; both were on full alert. There were fresh footprints along the dusty floor tiles. They made their way through the floors of the apartments cautiously; reaching the top level to find it empty. Though with air clearly disturbed and the couch noticeably slept on. There were empty cans left upon the coffee table and discarded packets of old beef jerky left on the floor. It was evident that someone had been staying in this apartment, though whoever it was had undoubtedly moved on now. 

Ada silently followed Tommy as they made their way to the fire escape that led out onto the roof. Once at the top they took in the view before them. The town was bigger than they’d anticipated. Much bigger. The unmistakable walls of the quarantine were bordering most of it. Holding the crumbling and decaying buildings like caged animals. Though in the distance it was easy to make out a hole in the structure. Most likely blown apart by explosives during the uprising against Fedra. Ada took in the view, her tired eyes scanning every road and alleyway. Every building window and doorway she could make out, knowing Ellie and Dina were out there; below them. Somewhere. Her stomach twisted at the thought, the more it ran through her mind. 

Please be okay. Please be okay.  It repeated on a loop through her head like her very own mantra in a poor attempt to focus on the task at hand. It didn’t work. 

“There.” Tommy announced pulling her from the cacophony of her brain. She looked to where he was pointing. Noticing a banner hanging from a balcony; the same initials and etching marking the sign. 

WLF, the wolf. 

“Hospital. Pretty on the nose don’t you think?” she said sarcastically. Her brother in law chuckled lowly at her words. “Well you know as well as I do Ada, supplies are hard to come by. And where is likely to have the most supplies? A hospital. Shall we?” 

“By all means, age before beauty.” She smirked. The blonde rolled his eyes dramatically as he picked up a plank of wood and laid it across towards the roof on the other side. “Cute…but I’m pretty sure we’re the same age.” he pointed out with a childish huff. 

She scoffed at his sulking. “I stand by what I said, get moving Miller.” 

Tommy paused, his brows rising slightly as he grinned at her words. “Again…you’re also a Miller because you marrie- you know what, never mind.” He dismissed in jest as he took a tentative step forward onto the wood. Ada watched with bated breath as he made his way across, the wood strained and creaked against Tommy’s weight. Dipping lowly in the middle as he shuffled himself over. His heart raced as he heard the wood crack and splinter under his feet. 

“Tommy!” Ada cried. It happened all too fast for him to register. His feet moved of their own accord, twisting and running as the plank snapped and crumbled beneath him. He propelled himself forward, as he felt his body hit solid ground with a heavy and painful thud. He’d grazed his forearms as he held him out instinctively to catch himself. His knees burned from the impact as well as he groaned in pain. Pulling himself to sit up, he twisted to see the damage he’d left in his wake. The plank of wood was gone. He, on one side of the large gap between the buildings and Ada on the other. 

“Shit! Fuck!” he hissed as he dragged himself to his feet. He looked at the gap between them, then down at the ground below. It was a long way down. “Can you jump it?” He asked, already knowing the answer as Ada’s nostrils flared at the absurdity of the question. 

“Of course I can’t fucking jump it, Tommy! Don’t be ridiculous!” He sighed in defeat, cradling the worse of his injured forearms against his chest, turning on his heel and looking out to formulate a plan. “Okay…Alright…You see that radio tower, a few miles east of the hospital. Meet me there, from the looks of it; you should be able to get to it by crossing that river down there. I’ll make my way back down when I can and meet you there before we head out for the hospital.” 

He turned back as the wind picked up, whipping around him. Swaying his tired frame against the heavy gales. Fluttering through his tied hair and pulling at his jacket. Ada took a moment to think through Tommy’s plan as she stared out to the path below. 

“That okay with you?” He prompted when she still didn't answer. She shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess it’ll have to be.” She called back. “If neither of us makes it by tomorrow morning, then we both assume something is wrong?” He nodded, turning back to take one last look at the hospital in the distance. “I’ll see you soon then. Be safe.” He said. Ada sent back a firm nod as she began making her way to the fire escape to climb back down. 

“You too.” 

And with that, the two parted ways. 

#joel and ellie #the last of us #starlessskies writes #joel miller #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams #joel x oc #the last of us fanfiction

[villains-are-hot]

The SVU squad part 1

Fandoms: law and order order svu / encanto (in which the squad have gifts)

Eventual Parings: oc x John munch, oc x fin Tutuola, oc x Elliot stabler, oc x Nick Amaro, oc x Sonny carisi, oc x Rafael Barba, oc x Peter stone

Other characters appearing now or later in this series: Donald Cragen, Melinda Warner, George Hwang, Olivia benson, Mike Dodds and William Lewis.

Pervious captain: “open up your eyes Donald this flashlight holds the miricale given to our department”

Young Cargen: “how did we get a miricale”

Previous Captain: “long ago when I became a detective and first joined the precinct there was a rapist the worst New York has ever seen more victims than we could count. Despite many people working tirelessly we couldn’t catch him and one of my coworkers got killed. In our darkest moment we were given a miracle this flashlight became a magical device that would never turn off. It blessed detectives and Adas with gifts to help the citizens of this city. However after years some of them decided they were too old so they stepped down and gave up their gifts. Now I’m leaving it’s your turn to lead this precinct…—————————————-

Estrella held her breath as she walked up the stairs into the building where the 16th precinct is housed. Two years she spent as a uniform officer and now she was finally promoted to a junior detective. She stopped briefly to re-read her resume making sure it was written correctly before continuing on her way. When she saw the door reading special victims unit she gulped hesitating to open it. There had been many transfer requests to this particular department thoughts of ‘what if I’m not good enough?’ Ran threw her herd after all only the best of the best would be accepted.

After what seemed like forever she opened the door and walked in. The area seemed cramped but cosy including desks filled with papers and a investigation board. It didn’t seem like any of the detectives that worked here were in at the moment. Estrella noticed a bald man sitting in an office with the door closed this must be the captain. She knocked politely and he looked up motioning for her to enter.

“Are you Captain Cragen?” Estrella asked walking in?

“Yes and your are?” Cragen asked

“Officer…sorry junior detective Estrella Juliette GracÃa” she said handing over her resume with a nervous smile

“Please take a seat” Cragen said she did as told and waited for him to read it she tried to gauge his reaction by his facial expressions but he wasn’t giving much away. Finally he looked up “this says you have an iq of 146, you graduated high school at age 13, got a scholarship to Harvard where you earned both a doctorate in criminal justice and an SJD in law by age 18, you then served in the army for three years as a private where you saved the lives of two fellow soldiers, you were awarded the silver star for your bravery being one of only 10 women to get that medal, you then joined the police academy where you graduated top of your class and now you have been promoted to detective after being in uniform for only 2 years….am I missing anything?” He asked

“I don’t think so Captain?” Estrella said a little confused

“I’m sorry the position has already been filled..” Cragen started Estrella frowned at this she knew the competition was huge but she thought he would at least think about it before making a decision “But I’ve thought about it and your resume is exemplary I would be lucky to have you on my team, so I have decided to call detective beck and tell her I am going with someone else” he finished smiling at her and handing her resume back to her

“R..really? You mean I got the job?” Estrella said shocked but excited she struggled not to jump and down in her seat

“Welcome to the special victims unit detective” Cragen said shaking her hand

“I won’t let you down Captain Cragen, when do I start?” Estrella asked

“You start tomorrow officially, today i’d like you to get to know your coworkers and then tonight will be your gift ceremony” Cragen explained

“That is fine with me” Estrella said

“Good your new partner Elliot Stabler should be at the courthouse testifying, go meet him there” Cragen ordered

~~~~~~~~~

Estrella got out of the cab looking for this stabler man. Instead she was disgusted to see a man kissing what looked to her like a child.

“What is going on here?” Estrella asked trying to hide the slight anger in his voice

“Butt out she’s my girlfriend” the man shot back

“Your girlfriend? This is a child that makes her your victim” Estrella said frustrated

“She is 17” the man said

“Do you have proof? I’d?” Estrella asked the girl

“She isn’t showing you anything take a hike lady” the man said

“You have to be really stupid or really cocky to molset a child in public” Estrella said pushing him down on a car hood and putting his hands behind his back

“Let me go right now! Who do you think you are” the man yelled trying to fight her

“Hey el cabrón, i’m a detective just got promote and your under arrest under the New York penal code 130 sexual abuse of a minor” Estrella said turning the man around and handcuffing him.

“Please stop he’s my boyfriend, leave him alone” the girl pleaded

“There a problem here?” A man with short brown hair and blue eyes asked he had a detectives badge much like her own in his hand

“I caught this man molesting a minor” Estrella told pointing to the handcuffed guy who yelled at the detective to “get her off me”

“Tell her” the girl said

“It’s legal the girls 17” the detective explained

“Really the girl was telling the truth?” Estrella asked still confused she let the man out of the handcuffs

“Come on let’s go home” the girl said and the couple walked away hand in hand

“That’s not right even if she is legal that guy is like 30” Estrella said

“Tell me about it, but it’s what the court ordered” the detective agreed with her “what’s it to you anyway?”

“Are you detective Elliot Stabler?” Estrella asked

“Yeah” he answered

“Well that was an awkward introduction…I’m detective Estrella GarcÃa your new partner” she introduced herself

“Welcome to the world of grey” Elliot said clearly unhappy about the courts decision

“The captain said I should get to know my co workers so I guess there other others” Estrella says

“Yeah I’m meeting them for an after work drink at a bar down the street if you want to join us” Elliot offered

“I don’t really drink but sure id like to meet them” Estrella said they then headed to the bar she let her new partner lead the way since she was familiar with the place. When they walked in she realised there was a lot of police and lawyers drinking here. Elliot walked over to a table where two men were sitting one white man in his late 40s to early 50s wearing glasses and the other a black man in his early 40s his long curly hair in a ponytail. They looked familiar and Estrella got a serious feeling of deja vu but she shrugged it off.

“Guys this is my new partner Estrella GarcÃa” Elliot introduced sitting down at the table next to fin.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both” Estrella said sitting at the remaking seat

“Hey I’m Odafin tutuola but I prefer just fin, this is my partner John Munch” fin said shaking her hand

“Welcome to the squad and a life of regret and suffering” John said jokingly while also shaking her hand. A waitress came to the table the guys ordered beers and Estrella got a fruity cocktail. While waiting for them to arrive the guys got into a work related conversation. Elliot was still upset about the 17 year old girl case.

Estrella sat deep in thought she realised the names Tutuola and Munch were familiar to her. Then it clicked there was a detective Munch that worked in Baltimore homicide and a detective Tutuola that worked in Manhattan narcotics they were pretty much the reason she became a cop but I couldn’t be them? Could it…

“Excuse me John did you ever work in Baltimore Homicide?” Estrella asked the table went silent

“Yes a life time ago, why?” John sighed obviously not wanting to discuss his old life. Estrellas eyes went wide so she was right about one of but what about the other. She turned to look at fin

“What about you Fin did you work in Narcotics here in New York?” Estrella asked

“Yeah how’d you know are you stalking us” Fin said raising an eye brow suspiciously

“No nothing like that…do either of you remember a case fifteen years ago where one of the biggest drug lords in America was arrested he also had many trafficked girls that he would use and pass around to his men. He and his gang was responsible for a long list of murders they operated mainly from Maryland and New York but he was living in the state of Pennsylvania. He had three kids and older son and two twins a boy and a girl. The mother of his children died under mysterious circumstances.” Estrella recounted

“Have you been studying our case notes? There’s not way you could know all that if you didn’t” John said

“No i didn’t” Estrella said

“A lot of those details weren’t released to the press theres no way you can not that stufd” Fin told her

“I can explain you know that scared little ten year old girl that had to testify and put her father in prison? I don’t like to bring it up much but that way me” Estrella admired both men looked her jaws hanging open in surprised even Elliot looked shocked and he hadn’t even worked that case.

“Nah no way that was you” Fin said

“Yes way” Estrella said

“I read about that case in the paper, sorry you went threw that” Elliot said the group then changed the subject and spent the rest of the hour eating, drinking their drinks and talking about the recent case of the 17 year old that looked like a little girl. Estrella listend with interest since she just joined she wasn’t up to speed on that case.

~~~~~~~~~

That night the big gift ceremony was going to take place. Politicians and police from other bureaus were in attendance as well as the current members of svu. Since the prescient was small but people still wanted to know what was going thousands gathered in Times Square watching a live feed of the event. Estrella smoothed over her suit and fixed her hair ready for the ceremony to begin. Music begun to play signaling that it was time for her to emerge from behind the door she nervously complied. This was it that thing they would make or break her if she got a gift she’d become a permenant member of the squad if not she’s soon be gone like Brian Cassidy and Monique Jefferies before her. People clamped for her as she walked. She was nervous and this resulted in her only talking about a step a minute. Every so slowly she mad her way to the glowing lockers.

The lockers were large probably big enough for a person to fit inside. Each one glowed with magic displaying the name of a person and a symbol showing what their gift was. Stabler had a dumbbell on his symbolizing his gift of super strength, Tutuola had a chameleon showing that his gift is shapeshifting and Munch had a speech bubble with words in different languages on in since he had the ability to speak, read and understand all languages fluently. A new locker had appeared next to the others out of thin air this one was blank but still had an aura of magic around it. Captain Cragen was standing. He had the magical flashlight in his hand

“Will you use your gift to honor our miracle? Will you serve this city and strengthen victims hope” Cragen asked

I nodded and placed my hands on the flashlight it felt warm and calming. I went up to the locker door and hesitantly reached out touching on the combination lock. A magical light moved over the door transforming it and my name appeared in gold glowing letters ‘Estrella GarcÃa’ underneath was a love heart. I felt lots of eyes on me waiting for me to do something revealing what my gift was. Nothing happened! Everyone waited not knowing what to do and after a while Cragen addressed the crowd

“We have a new gift I don’t know sure no one knows what it is yet but it’s a gift all the same” Cragen said i ran my hand along the door confused but happy at the same time. I was now an official member of the squad but my gift hadn’t manifested itself yet..I wonder what it could be?

#encanto #law and order svu #crossover #elliot stabler #odafin tutuola #john munch #donald cragen #alternate universe

[future-of-features]

Night Shift - 3/16/24

The evening was pretty eerie. Darkness filled the entire hall and heavy rains rumbled the surroundings.

Mack, the prison guard assigned for the night, prepared the necessary things for 'survival'. A flashlight with extra batteries, a phone (despite the place having little to no signal), a small set of pocket books to pass by the time, and few bars of Kit-Kat.

Twelve hours isn't that long, he whispered to himself.

While sitting on an old rusty metal chair, he holds a logbook of information about the prisoners held in that particular cell. Mack felt terrified and excited for his new part-time job. A night shift in an old prison full of serial killers and psychopaths... what could possibly go wrong?

The heavy storms wouldn't stop. He locked all the doors leading to the main hall, where all who were incarcerated were locked up in unbreakable glass. It seems impossible for them to escape in this hell of a jail. Mack took one peek and heard groans of the madmen he had to spend the night with.

'Hmm,' he uttered. 'Wouldn't dare to gaze these creeps in this time.'

Mack closed the door. He felt sleepy. He looked at his analog watch and read the time: 23:39. He went back to his chair and closed the lights. He slept soundly to the pouring of the rain.

Tick, tock. Mack was awakened by the sound of the clock at the top of his head. The rain finally stopped. He grabbed his flashlight and checked the time: 02:48. He only slept three hours. Mack felt groggy. He still has nine hours to go. He figured he could just spend those left time with sleeping and get his paycheck, then leave this monstrosity.

He felt a sudden pound of his heart when he heard the main door shriek.

He tried to be calm, but the door slowly made a metallic sound, opening itself from the lock Mack tangled hours ago.

'No, God, please...' Mack felt nothing in those minutes but fear. Fearing he might face the end of his life in the hands of a random prisoner he doesn't even know the face of.

He quickly hid under a desk and dimmed the flashlight. He was panting heavily, sweat continuously falling down from the back of his neck. He can hear his own breathing in those moments of his life.

Mack heard heavy footsteps entering the room. He wondered who was this prisoner when he read that all of them were at least 5'5 tall.

He couldn't escape this. He doesn't have any weapon on him and his knuckles couldn't knock down this big guy.

Mack took a leap of faith and slowly crawled down to get himself outside of the guard's room. He closed his flashlight and took one step per minute to reach the end of the door. He took a quick look into the mysterious giant that just entered the room.

As he was about to scream, the lights suddenly open. Mack finally shouted and was extremely horrified by what he just saw. A bald man, with pinkish skin, no tops and just ripped jeans, with muscular body about 7'0 tall holding a butcher's knife appeared in front of a petite guard.

The man turned around and saw Mack lying on the ground. Mack didn't wait for any second and quickly ran and locked the door.

'Crap, crap, crap..' Mack had an intense adrenaline rush and could only think of leaving that place. He quickly opened the door to the hall and also locked it, to which he heard the heavy footsteps again.

He awakened the prisoners and started a riot within their cells, telling Mack to release them. The door started crumbling and scared the prisoners as well. Mack had nowhere to go. He was breathing heavily and prepared for the worst. He grabbed his phone and wished for a signal, contacting the chief.

The big man started to break the metal door. Mack remembered there was a secret fire exit at the side of one of the prisoners' cell. He got the keys and opened the cell door, which instantly opened every door there is. Mack released all the prisoners, but they were terrified to get out of their cells. The door finally breaks, and the giant wreaks havoc.

He grabs the first weak prisoner. A woman no younger than twenty. The giant chokes the woman and chopped her body. Other prisoners stared in horror, froze and went completely insane.

Mack opened the fire exit. As he was about to leave, his phone rings. The giant looks at Mack, and went for him. In the worst moments possible, a signal enters the infiltrated prison.

Mack tried to run but to no avail, he trips down while trying to save his life. He looks at his watch for a final time, it's 03:49. The lights close down one by one and the giant gets blind. He falls down with the butcher's knife stabbing himself, making him bleed.

All the prisoners cheered in unison, and quickly runs to get out. Mack went and observed the giant's body. He seems familiar. Oddly peculiar body yet something he has already seen before.

He looks at the dead woman's body. Her name was Betty. Mack disposed her body and went back to get his things before leaving. He texts the chief back.

'Something weird happened here. Gtg.' Mack put his phone in his pocket. Before closing the fire exit, he gets a call from the chief.

'You passed the night shift. Welcome to the team.' Mack smiled awkwardly, he wondered if the chief planned all these.

He looked at the dead giant's body once more.

And never looked back again.

#horror #long story #literature

[boricuacherry-blog]

I'm Still Here, Baby!

by William Murphy

A woman who was savagely bludgeoned with a hammer in 1996 pointed her finger in court yesterday at the man she said beat her and left her for dead - next to the lifeless body of her best friend.

"He had a bald head then," Marsha Davis said in hushed tones as she looked at the defendant, 33-year-old Fitzroy Morris, "but I can never, never, never forget those eyes and that face."

Davis cried nervously as she described how Morris beat her repeatedly with the hammer in a bodega in Jamaica on December 27, 1996.

"He looked me in the eye and said, 'You're not going anywhere. I'm going to kill the both of you,'" Davis said in State Supreme Court in Long Island City.

She said that at one point, Morris yelled at her, 'Why don't you die you b--?'

As her direct testimony drew to a close, Davis became defiant. Turning to the defense table, Davis said, "I'm still here, baby!"

That prompted a member of the audience to curse, apparently at Morris, and court officers ordered the person out of the room.

Justice Timothy Flaherty retired to a back room to consult with prosecutor Debra Pomodore and defense attorney Joseph DiBlasi.

Morris appeared to be glaring at Davis during the process, with the jury still in the room, and a court officer moved her to the court stenographer's cubicle, and sat her in a chair facing the wall, away from the audience and the defendant.

Flaherty came back and told the jury to disregard Davis' remark that she made directly to Morris, and he said any member of the audience who made a comment would be removed from the courtroom.

Additional court officers were then stationed around the audience section where friends and family of Davis and the dead woman, Rushiandra Cooper, an aspiring rap artist, were sitting.

Davis, 25, a Forest Hills resident at the time of the crime, had testified earlier that she and Cooper, 23, met Morris, 33, at the Q Club in Jamaica in the early morning hours and found him to be "nice."

They gave him a ride back to the bodega, or mini-mart, he operated in the neighborhood and went inside to play video games, Davis said.

Morris had been living in a room at the mini-mart, where he worked as a cleaner and stock clerk instead of paying rent. Deputy Chief Lawrence Loesch said Detective James Barrow discovered Morris had been a card dealer in his native Antigua and frequented Atlantic City casinos.

But on that night, after three young customers who were also playing video games left, Davis said she heard a click that sounded like a lock turning. "I felt sick. Every hair on my body stood up at that point," Davis testified.

She said she tried to punch Morris to escape, but she could not bunch her fingers into a fist because she had long fingernails.

Morris then hit her with a hammer she said. "I was fully dressed when that happened...when I woke up again, I wasn't dressed."

"The first thing I saw was him...smiling...jeering at us," she said. She said she clutched the hand of Cooper, who was lying nearby, also naked, except for a bra pulled up over her head.

Morris was telling the women, "Touch each others' breasts," she testified, adding that he continued to smile.

"The next thing I felt was a blow, and I was unconscious again," she said. She added that after she awoke she stumbled around [...] and seeing a flashlight shining in the store window, she feared Morris was coming.

But it was one of the youths who had been playing the video game, and she went outside. Someone called police, and she was put in the back of a squad car to the hospital. It was not until days later that she learned her friend was dead. Police had found the shattered body of Cooper, one of the members of their rap group, High Rollerz, who had been hit with at least 19 hammer blows.

Before this, Cooper was about to graduate from Brooklyn College with top grades and a degree in psychology, according to her sister, Tonya Cooper-Champion. Cooper's nickname was Mello, for her mellow demeanor and Davis was called Bino, for her light complexion. The third member of the group High Rollerz was Makeeba Guilford, who was also called Suki. The group had recorded a demo tape a few months earlier with songs like "Brooklyn (In the House)."

#article #true crime #jamaica #queens #new york #homicide #solved #fitzroy morris #1996 #90s #rushiandra cooper #marsha davis

[maxirueee]

AU Alberu's POV as the experimented Beru

Alberu: Cale?

Cale: ...nggh..yes?

Cale rubs his eyes as he tried to open them slowly only to see his lover looking right at him with a nervous expression.

Alberu: I suddenly had a bad dream.

Cale: It's literally 3am in the morning.

Alberu: mm..yea- well *fidgeting*

Cale: Spit it out. What was your bad dream about Beru?

Alberu: DON'T CALL ME THAT ANYMORE- PLEASE just please I'm begging you...

Cale was in deep shock that his lover raised his voice at him just because of what? He called him by his nickname?

Cale: Didn't you tell me multiple times that I should stop calling you 'hyung' when we finally got together?

Alberu: I-its not that.. I just-

Cale: Tell me what's wrong Beru.

Alberu: THAT'S the PROBLEM.

Cale: Which is??

Alberu: That nickname, in my dream I was suddenly trapped in a flat boxed screen, I couldn't move but all I could do was smile. Smiling while looking towards the horizon which seemed endless. White. Blank.

ALberu: After a few minutes I suddenly heard voices. At first, there were a lot of compliments about how radiant I loo-

Cale: Are you even sure that's a bad dream?

Alberu: Yeah it is a bad dream!

Cale: Aren't you just totally flaunting how good-looking you are? You're srsly waking me up in the middle of the night because of this? I'm going back to slee-

Alberu: I SWEAR THAT'S NOT IT!

Cale looks back at Alberu who had a look of desperation. Cale couldn't distinguish if what he's seen rolling down the face of his beloved was sweat or tears. Maybe both. Well, he might as well comfort his lover since that was his job. Alberu: I heard giggles, squeals, people were shrieking with how I finally appeared. They kept saying that I looked so dazzling, how I sparkled. They were even speaking the same annoying lines that you tell me every time with your glib tongue.

Cale: Whatever do you mean oh shining sun of the Roan Empi-

Alberu: My point exactly *glaring at Cale*

Cale: Alright go on.

Alberu: It went on for days, I couldn't tell how long I was trapped in that frame-like screen window, all of a sudden I reverted back to my dark elf form.

Cale continues to stare at him, already feeling bored as he watched Alberu continue ranting his struggle of a mere dream. Although he found it amusing as he heard him say the next lines.

Alberu: But it didn't stop there, my hair color suddenly changed to a blood-red color just like yours Cale. I was the spitting image of you. And the voices agreed on how we really are sworn brothers if we just switched hair colors.

Cale: Hoh...

'There must be something more to this if it actually made the emperor of the Roan Kingdom have buckets of sweat rolling down his pretty face.'

Alberu: It was until I heard somebody say, 'How about a Pink Haired Beru?'

Cale: Huh?

Alberu: My hair color immediately changed to pink, then sky blue, then green, then orange, then red again. I didn't know when it'd stop but I couldn't even budge. Even when I wanted to so bad.

Alberu looked dead straight in Cale's eyes, with both his hands firmly holding his partner's shoulders, but ironically he was shaking. Alberu Crossman was shaking in fear. For what reason? Is this another one of the Sun God's pranks to his lover? Perhaps it was the God of Death again? He continues to ponder at the annoying thought that maybe divine beings were messing around his precious people again but stopped as Alberu continued speaking his worries.

Alberu: I thought it was okay since it was just a hair color change..then a woman's voice asked with great anticipation, "HOW ABOUT A BALD AND A MOHAWKBERU?"

Alberu: I continued to smile, even when my luscious golden blonde hair was instantly gone and I was suddenly bald. BALD! I saw numerous hearts floating in front of me and I could hear the mockery and laughter of beings I could not even see. Yet I continued to smile.

Cale was speechless.

Alberu: For some reason, I could read the words floating in front of me. "EVERYBODY GIVE IT UP FOR THE ROAN KINGDOM'S FAVORITE SHINING SUN- BALDBERU" is what it said. More hearts appeared at a scary rate and I couldn't even shout or move. I was terrified.

Alberu glared at the person in front of him like a mad man. Cale just shut up and listened to whatever he said, Alberu really looked mental.

Alberu: The woman from a while ago spoke again, I swear her voice was scary beyond belief. She added "Okay everybody hold up- Now imagine DELINQUENT HAIRCUT AlBERU"

Alberu: My hair suddenly grew back twice as much and it was styled into this weird looking hairdo...

Cale continued to have his stoic face which made Alberu feel relieved. Little does he know Cale was on the verge of laughing his ass off-

ALberu: I suddenly heard "JOSUBERU I CAN'T WITH THIS FANDOM- YA'LL REALLY DID IT U PUNKS" again from that mortifying woman since earlier, apparently it was done by a group of people claiming to be my fans?! BUT THE MONSTROSITY THEY'VE- no that wasn't even half of it

Cale: 'There's actually more?! PFFFFFT' I see, continue then. The prince saw his darling sweetheart Cale shaking as if he was sympathizing with what he was going through. At that very moment, he felt touched by his lover's empathy towards himself.

Alberu: The horrors didn't end just there as I was still waiting for the whole nightmare to be over, they were begging for a 'Voldeberu' which I don't even understand, at that point, I SUDDENLY LOST MY NOSE!!

I WAS BALD AGAIN AND MY NOSE DISAPPEARED YET I WAS STILL SMILING. I HAVE NEVER FELT SO MUCH FEAR IN MY LIFE.

Alberu: Somebody then proposed a 'Clowberu' AND MY FACE SUDDENLY BECAME A CLOWN WEARING MAKEUP. The hardships I had to take while staying still like a fucking mannequin. BUT IT STILL DIDNT STOP THERE.

Cale almost broke into laughter as he wanted to continue listening to his lover's amusing dream! If he laughs now Alberu might as well punch him in the face.

Alberu: I wanted to cry, I pleaded with the Sun God in my head that I want this to stop but I didn't get what I wanted. Instead, a chatbox suddenly appeared, I almost pissed my pants reading at the schemes of those so-called 'fans' had for me.

Cale: Oho.. what did you s-see then? 'Pfft'

Alberu: "LET'S MAKE HIS SKIN GREEN WITH ONLY ONE EYE, MIKE WAZOWSKIEBERU" "We need a butt, BUTTBERU" "I still didn't get my mohawhkberu!" "TWIN TAILESBERU" "AFROBERU!" "MONKBERU!" "SANGWOOBERU" "COWBERU" "UCHIHABERU" "I SAY NUNBERU! NUNBERU SUPREMACY RISE!!!!!!"

I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT MIKE WAZOWSKI BERU! BUT THEY WANT MY HEAD TO BE A COW?! HOW COULD THEY TO THE EMPEROR OF THE RO-

Cale couldn't handle it anymore he bursts out laughing, almost in tears.

Cale: BUHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH!!! If only I was there to see it all! I ca- I CANT! MIKE WAZOW- WAZOWSKI HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH AND AFRO?! HAHAHAHAHAHA

Alberu: How could you be laughing at my pain?!

Cale: Oh dear emperor of mine, isn't it fine that you have such 'entertaining fans' of yours?

Alberu: Entertaining can't even describe those lots... They all praised me for how I was the rising sun of the Roan Kingdom as they humiliated my every being. To the point where they even planned on turning me into 'LIGHTBULBERU'. A FUCKING LIGHTBULB BECAUSE THEY WANT ME TO SHINE LITERALLY. A WALKING FLASHLIGHT KING. ME. ALBERU CROSSMAN.

Cale: PFFT HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Alberu: Haaaahh... You don't understand because you were never in my position. Those fans were a bunch of lunatics I say, LUNATICS!

What Alberu doesn't know is that we, the fandom won't just stop there...

Alberu felt shivers down his spine as he recalled the very vivid and realistic experience he had inside his dream.

Cale: I am so telling this to Tasha, my esteemed and very much adored Beru <3

Alberu: JUST CALL ME HYUNG PLEASE!!

The trauma seemed to have sunken deep into his mind that every time Cale calls him by that nickname, he subconsciously touches his hair and nose in order to reassure himself that it's still there.

I'm tagging these superb beings for making the thread LEGENDARY: @cale-alberu @chunnicalesimp @thescarletguard @trashduchesshenituse-reblogs @farmercale @just-a-sleepy-person @annerisk @pile-of-sticks @trash-duchess-henituse @icyteaa

#tcf #trash of the count's family #tcf crack #incorrect tcf quotes #alberu crossman #cale henituse #CALEBERU #First Fanfic but it's crack #CRACK CRACK CRACKITY CRACK #Tasha mentioned #Sun God #God of Death #Lunatic Fandom #this is why I love this fandom

[harlowdoylepi]

TA-418 Saga part 13 is here!

I'm releasing this early, in part because I have a busy day tomorrow, and there's three chapters left and I want to wrap this up before I start releasing the Quarter Quell fic.

So sit back and enjoy TA-418 Saga Part 13: Tension Mounting.

The blindfold was pulled roughly off Jillian’s head. She shook her head and glanced around. They were in a dark room, and she could tell what time of day it was. She wasn’t sure how long ago she had been kidnapped. There was a point where she fell asleep, she knew that. Had she been here all night? She had asked for coffee earlier, but they did not give her any. What kind of place is this anyway? They kidnap you, then they don’t give you any coffee. See if I ever answer any of their questions.

She glanced around the room. She could make out the dim shadows of a bed, a nightstand, and a bookshelf, or was it a dresser? She shifted in her chair uncomfortably. Her hands were still zip-tied and the lower half of her legs were duct-taped together.

She looked the other way and realized that a person was standing next to her.

“Okay, what do you want? This had better be worth missing my mani-pedi appointment!”

A voice grunted, “She’s a smart talker. Charles told us she might be like this.” he said to another person who was in the room.

“I’m completely serious about this, you, uh, weird voice in the shadows!” Jillian answered indignantly.

“Put it on our tab.” Replied another voice.

Things were quiet for a few moments, before the second voice asked, “So, should we get out the black box, or what?”

“No, the boss said not to use it until he came in and had a talk with her first. He’ll be here in a minute.”

“Aw man, why does he gotta ruin our fun like that? I was looking forward to seeing what it could do. I’ve heard some pretty wild stuff about this little black box.”

A door opened up, and in walked another person, a balding man who was shorter than the other ones. There was a light on in the hall and Jillian noted that there was a sign that said: “Welcome to the cabin.” The man closed the door behind him, sealing off light from the room once more.

I must be at Trickle Lake then. She thought. It was only a fifteen-minute drive up here.

“Well, it appears we have met again, Monica.” A smarmy voice spoke up. “How do you like our little operation central here?” He gestured around vaguely.

“Who is Monica?”

“Very funny. Your wit is just as quick as it always was.”

Jillian blinked several times. “Wait wait wait, you mean Monica, the one who keeps trying to LITERALLY steal Jason?”

A flashlight beam shone in her face. She blinked and squinted. “Hey! Don’t do that!”

“You idiots!” Charles roared. “This isn't the person I needed! I told you to get Monica!”

The two men held up their hands defensively, “Hey she came out of the same place Stone was located, and she had red hair. What else were we supposed to do, ask for her driver's license to ensure proper verification?” The first one said sarcastically.

“I can’t believe this isn’t your first job.” Charles huffed. “I knew I should have waited for Rolland to get back!"

The silence that followed was incredibly awkward.

“So,” Jillian said, breaking it, “Are you going to let me go?”

“No. It’s too late for that.”

“Then what are we gonna do, boss?”

“That’s what I’m going to figure out. I’ll be back.” Charles slammed the door behind him.

Cooper stood at the door of the Meltsner household. He had rung the doorbell several times, but there was no answer.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Cooper Calhoun, live and in person.” Jay approached him. He was back to his usual outfit and did not speak with a nondescript accent.

“Hey, Jay.” Cooper turned to look at him. “Have you seen Buck today?”

“No.”

“I didn’t see him or Katrina at school today and I thought he might be sick or something.”

“I’ve been at school today too, thank you for noticing.” Jay rubbed his chin, “Word may have gotten around faster than I expected. He might have faked being sick today.”

Cooper raised one eyebrow. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he didn’t want to face me of course! Once he heard the news of my breakthrough he was stricken by my genius.” Jay put his hands in his pockets and looked around as though there were invisible crowds of fans cheering around him. “I have that effect on people. Sometimes they just can’t handle it.”

“What breakthrough? You mean the case you were trying to recruit me and Buck on a few days ago?”

“The one you flatly refused to go on, yes.”

“What happened?”

Jay recapped the story of the old building. “...And then I said “No! You’ll never take any of our comrades alive! Then, with gunfire blasting all around me, I picked up Buddy in a fireman carry over my muscular shoulders and I ran to J and J Antiques, where we called in special reinforcements,” He shrugged, “Y’know, just all in a day's work.”

Cooper squinted at Jay. “Words fail me.”

“Struck dumb, I know. It’s a heroic tale that will stretch the ages I’m sure.”

“Oh, it's already stretched.”

“Anyhow, I was here for…. what was I here for…. Oh yeah! I came for the same reason you came here, to find Buck.”

“But he’s not here. And neither is Eugene or Katrina.”

“We could check at Campbell College or Whit’s End.”

“I already checked at the College, they said Eugene hadn’t come in that day.”

Jay cocked his head to the side, “And you say neither Katrina nor Buck was at school?”

“Yeah! No one had seen or heard from them.”

Jay gaped, “Crikey! Another mystery! The case of the disappearing Meltsners! I have to get out of here!” He started running down the sidewalk.

“Wait, where are you going??” Cooper shouted after him.

“Back home! I need to get my trenchcoat and hat!”

Cooper scratched his head, “What is going on around here?”

Connie adjusted her hard hat as she walked out of the little theatre. The sounds of drills and other tools sounded from the main soda fountain area. Her forehead creased in worry. She had been feeling concerned all morning. Connie had noticed she hadn’t heard from Eugene, Katrina, or Buck for a couple of days. That was unusual. Cooper had mentioned earlier that he hadn’t seen any of them either. Deep inside she couldn’t shake a feeling that something was wrong. She made a mental note to check at their house when she got off work. Connie entered the library to get to work sorting the various books, and seeing if she could salvage any of the books that were damaged.

She had only been working for five minutes when one of the construction workers opened the door. “Excuse me, lady? There’s a guy here to see one of the employees.”

Connie’s head snapped up. “Oh, okay, uh send him in.”

A man walked in. “Hey Connie.”

Connie stood up in shock. “Monte! It’s good to see you again.” She hugged him.

“It’s good to see you again too. Have you seen Grandpa anywhere?”

“He went to go get some groceries, can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, do you know the address for Eugene and Katrina Meltsner?”

“Oh, yes I do. 1193 22 Cloveridge street.”

Monte pulled out a notepad and pen and quickly scribbled it down. “Perfect, thank you.”

Connie glanced over and saw he wore his secret service badge pinned on his shirt. “Are- are you on a case?” She asked tentatively.

“Uh I can’t go into details, but yes.”

“...And it requires you to get Eugene and Katrina’s address?”

Monte paused. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

Connie’s heart leaped in her throat. “Okay,” she answered, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “Uh, well, I’ll be praying for you.”

He looked at her gratefully. “I appreciate it.” He opened the door and walked out. “See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.” She shut the door. God, please keep Eugene, Katrina, and Buck safe.

“Alright, just down here.” Sharp pointed to Cloverridge street through the windshield.

Monte turned into the street. Their eyes scanned the houses for the correct house number.

“Ah, found it. 1193.” Said Monte.

Agent Sharp leaned forward to get a better view of the house. “It doesn’t look like anyone is there. There’s no car in the driveway.”

“Why is the backdoor open?” Monte observed.

“How did you see that?”

“The blinds aren’t shut, you can see the door in the back is open.”

“Oh, I see now.”

“If that’s the case, the alarm system probably isn’t set. We could go in.”

“Is that legal? What if someone’s in there and they call the authorities?”

“We are the authorities. Besides, we’re running out of time. The clock is ticking, and with what we know, I think we should take that risk.”

“Okay.”

The two agents got out of the car, went around through the gate, and peered in through the screen door.

Monte opened the door and looked in. “Hello?” he called out cautiously.

The house was as silent as a graveyard. They both took a couple of steps inside and scanned the surrounding rooms. . No one was around.

“I’ll go check upstairs.” Agent Sharp muttered. She walked up the stairs silently.

Monte glanced over at the kitchen. The dishes were neatly stacked by the sink. There were two dog dishes by the door, but they were empty, he noticed. He couldn’t hear a dog anywhere. He also saw a dog bed in the living room, but it was empty. The house was fairly clean. On the breakfast table, there lay a couple of textbooks and some Algebra homework. He glanced down at the sheets. The second page was only half-finished and the last equation wasn’t solved. “Interesting.” He whispered.

He walked into the living room. There was a copy of National Geographic laying on the couch with a bookmark inside it.

“It’s really strange,” Sharp answered as she descended the staircase. “It doesn't look like they're out of town.”

“Connie would have told us if they were.”

“Then...do you think the CEO’s goons got here before we did?”

Monte pursed his lips. “It’s looking more and more like it.”

Richard Maxwell bounded around the corner into Jason’s office. He wore an eager grin. “Hey Jason, I finished the final touches on the computer system!”

Jason stood up. “Awesome! Let’s see it.”

They both walked down the stairs and sat down at the front counter. Jason looked through the program and nodded, impressed. “This is amazing! It’s better and more efficient than it was before.”

Richard beamed.

“I had been meaning to run through this and to fix the bugs in the system for a while but never found the time. It turns out Jillian’s blunder the other day was a blessing in disguise.” Jason remarked.

“What do you know about that?” Richard nodded. “Speaking of which, where is she? Did she have the day off?

Jason rolled his eyes. "No. Connie said she didn’t come back last night, so she probably stayed at a friend's house and forgot.”

“And she wasn’t concerned?”

“No, she’s used to it by now. I’m still adjusting.”

Richard gave a rueful smile. “I hope she knows how lucky she is to have a boss like you. Most would have fired her a long time ago.”

Jason rubbed his forehead. “To be honest, I’m surprised I haven’t yet. I’m not even sure why I hired her. The only thing she was that helpful with was decorating the shop, but I don’t need that all the time. Every quarter at most.” he paused, “I guess I felt bad for her.”

“That’s not all bad, but she needs to learn to pull her weight as well. There’ll come a point where she has to have a cold slap of reality and take responsibility.”

“There comes a time where everyone learns that lesson.” his eyes narrowed slightly, “Though, most people learn it earlier in life.”

Richard smirked, “Yeah. And I thought I learned it late in life! Now I don't feel so bad.”

Jason chuckled, “Well, I may want to reevaluate my employee choices soon.”

“Oh great, I’ll be fired for sure!” Richard quipped.

Jason laughed, “I don’t think you’ll be the one getting fired. Once we know where Jillian is, I’ll talk with her. I hope she’ll understand.”

At that moment the phone that sat by the cash register rang. Richard picked up the receiver and put the call on speaker. “Hello, this is J and J Antiques, how can I help you?”

“Hello, is this Jason Whitaker?"

"No, but he's here with me."

"Tell him that we have one of his employees.”

Richard and Jason exchanged wide-eyed glances. They could both hear an irritating voice jabbering in the background. Richard’s eyes narrowed. “This employee wouldn’t happen to be a double L Jillian, double L Marshall, would she?”

“Yes.”

Deadpan, Richard answered. “Good. Now she’s your responsibility.”

“Wh- Hey! Wait!”

*Click* Richard hung up the phone. Jason’s jaw dropped, “Jillian has been kidnapped and you seriously hung up?!” He sounded like he was on the edge of panic and laughter, “I mean we both know how we feel about her, but-”

Richard shrugged. “Hey, he kidnapped Jillian, he was asking for it.”

Jason opened his mouth.

Richard held up a hand, stopping him. “I’m just joking, I’ll call him back, I just wanted to give him a heart attack first.”

Jason picked up the receiver. “Nah, I’ll call him. I get the feeling that he probably needs to talk to me. I have a hunch.”

Richard looked at him sideways, like he didn’t quite understand.

Jason picked up the phone, went to the caller history, and dialed the recent number.

The phone picked back up. “Ah, you’re back.”

“Yeah,” Jason answered coyly.

“Let’s make a deal. We’ll bring her back, if you bring us one item.”

“What would that be?”

“The flash drive that Agent Forbes sent to you.”

At that moment, a battle raged inside Jason. He knew what was inside the flash drive would put the world in immediate danger if it fell into the wrong hands. And this was Jillian, for crying out loud. It was the security of the world at large, or the life of his annoying, flighty employee. Then, his conscience pricked him. If this was Tasha, he’d cross the ocean if he had to. Jason knew what he had to do. He took a deep breath, and his grip tightened on the phone. “Where will we meet?”

“Whit’s End. Midnight. Don’t bring the police or Ms. Marshall will suffer. ”

“Fine. Who will we meet there and how will we know we’ve met the right person?”

“He will be going by the name Jellyfish.”

Jason and Richard looked at each other.

“I should have figured,” Richard muttered under his breath.

“Jellyfish will first pull out front, then park in the back.”

“We’ll be there.”

“You are expected to cooperate fully. If you don’t you will suffer as much as Ms. Marshall.” The punk ordered.

“Understood.”

“Good.”

The person on the other line hung up. Jason clomped the receiver heavily onto the cradle.

Richard shook his head. “What have we gotten ourselves into? And what on this flash drive would they want?”

“I should probably explain that to you.”

“Okay, if you think it would be smart.”

“Yeah you might want to sit down, it’s a long story..”

“Uh, okay.” Richard sat down in the desk chair. Jason sat down in the one next to him.

“Do you remember that package I received about a week ago that didn’t have any return address?”

Richard nodded. “Yeah.”

“I later learned that the package came from an old coworker from my agency days. Tasha Forbes. We were, uh, close.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, she and my Dad worked together to create programs for the department of defense.”

“Cool. I forgot your Dad did that.”

Jason took a deep breath. “Richard, the flash drive contains the Applesauce program.”

Richard jumped to his feet. “What?!”

Jason remained seated. “Believe it or not, it’s true.”

“I thought Applesauce was destroyed years ago!”

“That’s what I thought, but, as Tasha told me, information is never lost. She restored the files and remade it to be even more powerful than it was in the first place.”

Richard collapsed back into his chair and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m at a loss for words.” his eyes widened, as he remembered what they were about to do. “And we just agreed to give it to them.” he nodded his head in the direction of the phone.

Jason nodded. “Mm-hm.”

“We can’t let that happen, Jason! I know what Applesauce is capable of-” he corrected himself, “Actually, I’m sure I don’t even know the half of it.”

Jason leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, lacing his fingers together. “I have a plan.”

“Uh oh,” Richard paused, then shrugged. “Oh whatever, I’m coming with you.”

Jason grinned and stood up. Richard did the same. The former glanced at his watch. “Let’s see, it’s almost five o’clock now, so that gives us about seven hours before midnight.” He walked over to the shop window and flipped the We’re open sign to the opposite side that read, Sorry, we’re closed.

“Alright,” He started up the stairs. “Let’s get to work.”

“Right behind you.”

Jason sat at his computer, intensely focused on his work. The hours were slipping away, and he was trying to make the most of them. Richard had gone to a friend’s house to go and pick up an important item and wouldn’t be back for a while.

Tasha should be here any minute. She was an important part of the plan too. He just hoped she would be willing to go along with it.

There was a knock on the door that led to the fire escape. Jason walked over and turned the knob. The door swung open with a creak.

“Hello, Jason.” Tasha greeted him.

“Hi. Glad you could make it. I was kind of worried you wouldn’t come.”

“I’ve kind of let my guard down, otherwise, I might not have.”

Jason raised one eyebrow, “You have?”

Tasha nodded. “Rolland has been nowhere to be found. From the investigation I’ve been doing, she’s not in town anymore.”

“That’s weird.”

She changed the subject. “So, what did you call me here for?”

“Well…” Jason turned to the coat closet, opened the safe, and got out the small box that contained the flash drive. “I want you to have this.”

Tasha reached out, then stopped herself, as though it would burn her if she touched it. “Why?”

“It’s like this,” Jason began to explain, “an employee of mine is being held hostage right now, and they know I have it.”

A look of alarm flashed in Tasha’s eyes. “How did they find out?”

“I don’t know. Anyway, I agreed to meet with them, and give this to them in trade for my employee.”

“Jason, that was a reckless decision.” She scolded, “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“Yes, which is why I’m giving this one to you. They won’t know the difference between the one I have, and the one they will see. Since they know I have it, that takes you off the hook. They’ve probably ruled you out as someone who has it.”

“They have for now. But what about when they know it’s not the right flash drive? Won’t they rule me back in?”

“Then you can bring it back to me and I’ll keep it here.” Jason in a confident tone.

“I wish I felt as sure as you sound about this…” Tasha said uncertainly.

“I agree that my plan isn’t perfect and that there is some risk involved, but it’s the one with the least risk that I can see right now. At this point, we need a plan now. I think we’ve underestimated the people we’re up against here. The person, or people, who are after this program have their every thought bent on it. They’ll do anything to get it. They’re making their moves and we need to act.”

“Well, okay.” Tasha looked him in the eyes. “I will trust you on this.”

“Thank you.”

That evening, after making sure that Morrie and Suzu were in bed, Whit picked up the phone.

After Tom’s death, and when Jack and Bernard moved away, he often felt lonely. Of course, he had Jason, Eugene, and Connie to make up for that, and he thanked God for them every day, but sometimes he still felt sad. Most of his friends from his childhood or the first half of life or his early days were gone now. That’s why he was so happy when his childhood friend, Wilson Knox moved to town. Well, he was a childhood enemy then. However, they had made up and became friends when they were adults. He just wished it didn’t have to be Charlie’s death that made them come together. Whit pushed that out of his mind as he dialed Wilson’s number. He hoped he would still be up. It was only 10:00, but Wilson was a creature of habit, and might already be asleep.

To Whit’s surprise, the phone only rang once, before he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Wilson, this is Whit. Sorry, I’m calling so late.”

“No, that's alright. You know It’s the strangest thing. I had this strong feeling that I needed to stay awake for a while longer. Is this why?”

Whit paused, “Maybe. I need you to pray, Wilson. Something is going on here that’s bigger than we think it is, and I’ve been so busy that I only realized recently that I needed to have someone partner in prayer with me.”

“I can do that. Anything specific, if you can tell me?”

Whit began to relay all that had been going on for the last few days, sparing only a few details.

“Wow, that’s a cause for prayer alright. It’s hard to believe all this has happened in the last few days.”

“It may sound hard to believe, but it’s true.” Whit’s mind flashed back to when Mitch had said something similar when he had first been back in town with Richard. So much has happened since then.

“Hmmm.” Whit could almost hear Wilson thoughtfully rubbing his chin and nodding his head as he took in this new information. “Thank you for telling me, Whit. I’ll be praying.”

“Thank you, Wilson. It means a lot.”

“If anything new happens let me know.”

“I will.”

“Remember Whit, “There is power in persistent prayer”.”

Whit smiled. “That’s a comforting thought. I’ll keep praying.”

“So will I.” Replied Wilson.

“Thank you again, Wilson.”

“It’s what friends do.”

“Goodnight.”

“ ‘night.”

Whit put the phone down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. He glanced at the clock. Midnight was ticking closer.

Whit leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He folded his hands together. “God, please watch over Jason, Richard, and Jillian tonight. Let them find the truth. Give them discretion, and let them know what to do. In your name, I pray, amen.”

Richard and Jason sat in the soda fountain area of Whit’s End. Jason glanced at his watch. 11:55. It was only five minutes until their rendezvous with Jellyfish. He could barely sit still. He hadn’t felt this old rush of excitement and adrenaline since his agency days. He didn’t even need coffee.

Richard hummed listlessly, then took a sip of his coffee. Jason might not have needed it, but Richard claimed he did.

Out the front windows, they saw a car drive past the front of the shop, then go around to the back, just as they had been told it would. “This is it,” Jason muttered. He got up from his seat.

Richard clapped his hands together. “Let’s do this thing.”

They both got into their positions.

The newly installed bell above the door jingled. Three shadowy figures entered the shop. The first one was Jellyfish’s assistant, Jellyfish walked in behind him, guiding Jillian by the arm. Her mouth was taped shut and her hands were zip-tied together like they had been when she was originally kidnapped. In his other hand, he held his .38 caliber pistol. “Hello? Whitaker, you in here?”

Richard came out from where he was hiding. “He’ll be here momentarily.”

Richard could see Jellyfish’s surprise, even in the dark of the shop. “Maxwell? What are you doing here?”

“Just a little business.”

“Are you here with Whitaker?”

Richard shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Whatever, you’re doing, don’t move until Whitaker comes in here.”

“Give me one reason why I can’t.”

Jellyfish held up his pistol. It looked like one of those revolvers in old west movies. “I can give you six reasons why.”

Richard snorted. “Oh please. If you were to shoot me with that thing-” he took a step toward him and cocked his head, “-and I was to find out about it-”

“I’m not kidding, Maxwell,” Myron growled through clenched teeth.

Richard locked eyes with him and took a defiant step forward.

At that moment Jellyfish lost his cool and pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening. The bullet whizzed right into Richard’s chest. Jillian screamed. But it was barely heard over the gunshot. Richard looked down, unphased. “Oh no, I’ve been shot,” he said flatly. I still need to get him to empty his gun. He then turned around and bolted in the other direction. Jellyfish unloaded the remaining five shots into him. Another muffled scream escaped from Jillian.

Richard fell to the ground, writhing, clutching his chest, and practically screaming in pain.

Jellyfish walked up to Richard and crouched down next to him, grinning smugly, enjoying watching his enemy’s suffering. “And those…are my six reasons. It looks like I’ve not only accomplished getting the flash drive, but I’ve also got my revenge as well.” He bragged.

“You’ll never win, Myron,” Richard said, breathing raggedly.

“Yeah, strong words for the guy in his last moments, watching me take the flash drive. By the time the police and paramedics arrive, I’ll be long gone, and so will you.”

Maxwell shook his head, “That’s not what I mean,” he gave a weak smile and closed his eyes. Richard’s form faded away, as though he had been turned to dust and suddenly, he wasn’t there anymore.

Jellyfish’s satisfaction changed to bewilderment. “Huh? Where did he go? What is going on here?!”

He stood up. Then something cold and hard shoved into his back. It was a gun barrel. “Drop the gun, Jellyfish.” It was Jason.

The pistol clattered to the ground. “O-okay, okay, you got me.” He grinned slyly, “But you failed to get the second person who was with me. He already has the flash drive, and is on his way to our operation center.”

Jason stopped short. “How did I not see that guy?”

“Oh no. That’s terrible!” A muffled, but familiar voice called from the other room.

Richard emerged from the closet, smiling cheerfully. He did not look like a man who had just been shot six times.

Jellyfish swore loudly. “Are you Maxwell’s ghost?”

Richard shook his head, “Nope. You actually shot my ghost. Well, my hologram.”

“WHAT?”

“Seriously, Myron, you were so caught up in your revenge that you didn’t notice that I wasn’t bleeding? Or that I was still standing after you shot me at close-range with a .38? Or the six bullet holes in the wall?”

“You put on a good act I guess.” Jellyfish said irritatedly.

Richard walked up to Jason and high-fived him. “It was a stroke of genius to harness the EduLink. With Jason's knowledge of his father’s technology,”

“And with Richard’s acting skills-” Jason cut in.

“We eliminated a huge risk in this plan.”

“I’m so confused.” Jellyfish mumbled. “You just have a hologram caster randomly laying around the shop in case someone gets held hostage or something?”

“Well, EduLink was created to teach kids around the world, but we used it a little unconventionally.” Richard explained.

“We’ll explain it all in detail, as we escort you to the police station,” Jason answered calmly.

Jillian squirmed and tried to make noise to remind them that she was still there.

Jason did a double-take. “Oh, right. Richard, will you please untie Jillian?”

“Sure.”

“You know, you guys are awfully calm for some people who just let government security into the hands of people they’ve been trying to keep it out of.” Jellyfish remarked.

“Yeah, it would be...if it was the actual flash drive.” Richard said as he undid the zip tie binding Jillian’s wrists.

“We had a friend who had a 3-D printer.” Explained Jason.

They heard police sirens in the distance. “Okay, they got to us before we could.”

They saw the two cop cars pull into the front of the shop.

Detective Polehaus walked out of the interrogation room, and into the waiting room at the police station. “Hello Jason, Richard. Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What has Jellyfish told you?” Jason asked.

“Well, he wants a lawyer, for one thing. He won’t admit to much, but he did say he has a computer with dirt on a place called Revolution Enterprises, and some of the employees there as well. It also has a lot of information about the people he’s working with here in Odyssey. If we could get a hold of it, it would blow this case wide open for us.”

Jason and Richard exchanged glances. “Just like Blagaard.”

“You’re right.”

“Did he say where it was located?”

“He said it was in his hotel room. He gave us the key. Room 348.” He held out the key to Jason, “We don’t have the officers to go and check at this hour, would you go and see?”

Jason took the key, “Of course.”

“He said it was located in the top drawer of the nightstand.” Polehaus elaborated.

“Alright. We’ll go and get it.” Jason got up, “You want to come, Richard?”

“You better believe it.” Richard got up and followed him out of the police station.

The two men pulled into the parking lot of the Odyssey Hotel. They got out and checked in at the front desk. The tired clerk asked no questions.

They went up the elevator and walked soundlessly down the hall of the third floor. Jason slid the key into the slot. The tiny light turned green, signifying the door was unlocked. They walked in, and Jason flipped on the light.

They walked in. It was a nice room, all things considered. The suitcase had been dumped out on the floor, scattering clothes all over the floor.

“Weird.” Jason remarked, “Jellyfish didn’t strike me as a particularly organized person, but he doesn’t seem like the person who would just do this either.” He gestured to the pile of clothes that lay on the floor.

“Yeah, that is strange.”

Jason walked over to the nightstand by the bed. He pulled open the drawer. Nothing. No computer. Only a tv guide and a Gideon family Bible. “It’s not here.”

“Maybe he meant a different nightstand?”

“There’s only one in here.”

Richard walked over to the closet and began looking in there. Nothing was in there either, except that it looked like someone had been looking through it before they had.

Jason walked over and looked in the drawers on the desk. Thirty minutes later, they had practically torn the room apart, but the computer wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Richard flopped down on the bed. “Where is it??”

“I don’t know,” Jason said wearily, sitting down on the floor. He was starting to regret not getting coffee when he had had the chance.

“We’ve gone over everything in here three times, we even looked in the vents to see if there was anything there. Nothing.”

“I’ve got to wonder if someone got hold of this computer before we did, and without Myron knowing.”

“Or possibly, Jellyfish told us this to throw us off,” Jason suggested.

Richard shook his head. “No, he doesn’t work that way. He tells all when he’s caught because then he’ll get off easier. He knows the system well.”

“In that case, we should go back and tell detective Polehaus.”

Richard got up. “Alright.”

They arrived back at the police station.

“Find anything?” Polehaus asked, drinking coffee.

Jason shook his head. “No. We looked everywhere.”

“We are wondering if someone got his computer before we did,” Richard explained his reasoning.

“Hmmm, interesting. Come with me then.” The detective guided them to the room adjacent to the interrogation room. There was a two-way mirror, giving a clear view of the interrogation room. They could see Myron, but he couldn’t see them.

“I’m going to go and ask him about that computer.” Polehaus walked in.

Richard and Jason watched and listened intently.

Polehaus sat down in the metal chair across from him. “So, a couple of assistants went into your hotel room, and couldn’t find your computer. What do you have to say about that?”

Jellyfish’s brow knitted together in confusion. “Is it possible…”

“Is what possible?” Polehaus pressed.

“I think my computer was taken. I kinda wondered if they would.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not the first time I’ve put things like this on a computer. Things look better for you if you have evidence and will cooperate.”

“Ah, I see.” Polehaus nodded with a hint of annoyance. “And you told somebody about this?”

“No. That’s what don’t make sense.”

The detective sighed, “Thank you. We’ll keep you in a holding cell until we get this figured out.”

The detective walked out of the room and into the observation room.

“Well, what do you think?” Jason asked. “I don’t think he was lying. He didn’t show any of the signs criminals show when they aren’t telling the truth and believe me, I’ve seen enough to know that. Richard’s past experiences with this Jellyfish character confirm this further. So either the men he’s working for found out about the computer and took it, or his hotel room got broken into and some punk just stole it. Either way it’s inconvenient. That was our best hope at catching these guys and solving this mystery.”

“What should we do in the meantime?” Jason asked.

“We’ll try to track the computer down. But we’ll do that at a decent hour. Thank you for your help tonight, men. That will be all.”

“Thank you, detective.” Jason said.

“Good night.” He stopped and rolled his eyes, “Well, morning.”

Richard gave a tired smile.

“What do you make of it?” Jason inquired, as they drove home. The headlights shone ahead, pushing back the darkness, lighting up the road in front of them.

“I’m not sure. I do have a few ideas on how to track down that computer though. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it. I might just try them.”

“At a decent hour, I hope.” Jason quipped. “Nah, I’m not going to get any sleep for a while, at least,” Richard said. “My mind won’t stop. I’ve got to figure this out.”

“Do what you want.” Jason yawned. “I’ll be going to bed ASAP.”

The night wore on. Richard sat at the breakfast table, the blue light of the screen dimly illuminated the kitchen. The clock on the oven read 3:45 A.M.

Richard typed furiously at the computer. He had tried several methods already. So far. all of them failed.

The screen flashed and said, “access denied.” Richard hit his head against the table and gave an irritated growl.

“Richard?” A tired, but no less kind voice asked from the entryway into the kitchen. Richard looked up and saw Whit standing there in his bathrobe.

“Mr. Whitaker...sorry if I woke you.”

“No, no, I was going to get a drink. What are you doing?”

“I was chasing down a few leads on Jellyfish’s laptop, but I’ve only hit dead ends. It’s frustrating.”

Whit nodded understandingly. “Why don’t you sleep on it?” he suggested.

“I don’t know if I should.” Richard muttered, gesturing vaguely to the computer, "I need to solve this case and-”

Whit looked at him curiously, not quite believing his reasons, “Richard, why are you doing this?”

The young man sighed, and looked down, “Because, maybe then I’ll be worth saving.”

Whit looked at him softly. “Richard, you already are. You always were.”

Richard pursed his lips, “I don’t know about that.” He sighed again, “You know my past, everything I've done.”

"I do. Should that make a difference?"

"Well, no I guess not. But still I feel like I need to do something to make up for everything I've done. It started with trying to take down Blagaard, and -- it never really stopped. I still have it frequently. That restlessness. It comes but especially when I feel like I'm not doing enough." He shook his head, " I can't afford to do that. I have too much in my ledger to not try to make up for it."

Whit put a hand on his shoulder. “Richard, it's not the things we do that make us deserving of God’s love. Nothing we could ever do could cover for our sins, or make us deserving of his grace. And yet it comes freely from the heart of God because he loves us. The Bible says that “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Those who you have hurt have already forgiven you. Christ has forgiven you. Now, maybe you need to forgive yourself. Let God's grace be enough.”

“Yeah,” Maxwell answered. “I have to admit that like Monica, sometimes I’ve wondered if it’s real. If I really can change.”

Whit smiled. “Richard, I know many people who could tell you. You’ve changed so much over the years. You’ve become a Godly, kind, humble, and hardworking young man. I’m proud of you, as though you were my son.”

Richard’s eyes filled with tears. Whit had been a father figure since he'd never really had one, but he didn’t know he saw him that way. “Thanks, Whit.” They embraced.

Richard could feel the caffeine and adrenaline slowly slip away. A sudden weight of tiredness hit him. “Maybe I will go to bed.”

Whit chuckled, “Good idea.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Richard.”

That night, a lanky man with thinning black hair sat down at the desk in the office space in the cabin. His bony fingers ran over the flash drive. it weighed so little, yet it carried so much. This small item seemed to exude power and potential. Just like the good doctor said. The nations of the free world would be at his mercy with this. It was all he ever wanted. Power. Money. Revenge. Chaos, in which he would be the only one who had the answer to equilibrium. Would he relieve the world of the chaos he unleashed on the world? Maybe. If they offered enough. Maybe he still wouldn’t.

He straightened up and opened his computer. Enough of this. Time to see what this famed Applesauce program can do.

He plugged the flash drive into the port. The computer beeped and whirred.

“Please wait one moment.” Said an automated female voice. The man rapped his fingers on the desk impatiently.

“I’m sorry. You have entered an invalid drive.”

“Wh- INVALID?!” The man slammed his hands down on the desk. “I can’t believe this!”

He began pacing the room, “This doesn’t make sense. It looks exactly like the real one but-” He snapped his fingers and muttered a colorful profanity under his breath. “Blast! The real one must be with Forbes then!”

He picked up the phone. “Get me, Rolland. Now. We have a little monkey wrench in the works, and we need to act fast.”

#adventures in odyssey #adventures in odyssey fanfiction #jason whittaker #aio #the anti jasillian revolution #the ta-418 saga

[thelostexperiment]

It had been about a year after The Last Adventure and F.O.W.L's desertion of the Lost Library of Alexandria. All that was left with the massive monolith of ancient knowledge, standing as tall as ever in the middle of a raging sandstorm. It was still full of both artifacts of the past and state of art, modern tech from the renovations of F.O.W.L all left to gather dust. For the most part the entire library was devoid of life, with the exception... of a young female duck dressed in classic adventurer's gear.

She roamed the halls, apprehensive of her surroundings while shining her flashlight down every passageway and dark corner she passed. Occasionally she'd call out if anyone else was there, even if she wasn't sure if she wanted an answer back.

"Sweet Salin, this place is creepy." She muttered to herself with a southern drawl in her voice.

It wasn't long before she entered a huge expansion of the library with thousands of empty cells lining the walls as far as her eyes could see, or at least as far as her flashlight could show.

"And who or what the heck were all these used for?" She said in awe, as she walked through the massive room, making slow twirls to get a full 360 view of the room. She suddenly stepped on something hard and the 'crunch' made gave her a start. She found that her foot was standing on the barrel of a strange looking broken gun with a cracked crystal in it sparkled at her when she shined her light on it. She decided to quicken her pace through the room after that, but this time being more mindful of where she stepped.

After turning a few more corners and going down a few more corridors, she found herself in the medical section of the library. Maybe there could be something helpful here? She certainly hoped so. The inside seemed like a typical infirmary; cost, chairs, medical equipment and tools, some curtains, it reminded her a lot of the nurse's office at her school. Except the motivational posters on the nurse's wall didn't say–

"Don't give up!

Because not even your God(s) can save you if you fail us.

~F.O.W.L."

At least the kitten on the poster was cute... After pulling aside a curtain in the back area of the room, she noted that her school nurse didn't have two huge empty stabilization tanks in the back. Now this looked more like a sci-fi movie to her and she hoped there wouldn't be any experiments running around. Well, all she could do now was to investigate further, which led her to the back storage room of the infirmary.

She was able to jimmy the door open with her pocket knife, and as soon as she did a mouse scurried past her. The sudden movement made her jump back with a yelp before she released what it was, then felt silly as she watched the cute little guy skitter out of sight. She couldn't help but laugh at herself a little as she entered. It was a large space (not nearly as big as the cell room, though), with large crates and boxes full of medical supplies and dust all over everything.

As she went further in she noticed through the dark, a dim red light flashing against the very back wall behind a huge stack of crates. Curiosity took her to what was causing the light, which was a rather old looking computer screen attached to what looked like another stabilizing machine. Only this one wasn't as modern as the other two, the tank was slanted vertically and it wasn't empty, the fogged glass obscured whatever was inside, but she could see the silhouette of... something.

"Oh... I don't like that…" said the young duck as she looked at the machine with wide eyes, and slowly reached over her shoulder and grabbed the walking stick that was attached to the side of her backpack to bring it forward as a weapon.

Cautiously, she approached the monitor that was flashing in all big red caps, "ERROR!", and tapped the 'entire' key on the keyboard under it. The screen cleared and turned blue, but then another line of text appeared.

"Cooling unit disabled… Emergency thaw in progress…"

A loading bar appeared under the text. It was almost full…

"Aw, I really don't like that!" She exclaimed as panic settled into her heart. Even though she didn't know exactly what was behind that glass, but she'd seen enough old horror movie tropes to know this couldn't be good. Maybe it could be fixed? She tried what little she knew to override the computer, but couldn't get past the password. Then searched the thing over, frantically hoping to find the problem, and there it was. A large cable running from the machine to the wall had been gnawed through… by mice… and some of the wires were chewed to bits.

Well, there wasn't much she could do now. She took a few steps back and raised her walking stick at the ready as the loading bar reached 100%. The inside of the tank lit up, with a 'pop' and loud 'hiss' the door to the hatch of the tank cracked open, the duck readied herself to smack whatever was coming out, and—!

Nothing...

After a few seconds of holding her attack, the confused duck used her would-be weapon to push the hatch open all the way without getting near it. To her bafflement, mist poured out of the machine and cleared away to reveal an old man... Just an old balding vulture in a black suit and tie, probably sleeping...?

The unexpected twist of the situation made the young duck tilt her head and let out a– "Huh…"

All that fuss over some old guy.

She rested her stick on the ground and approached him casually this time to get a better view of him. She couldn't really tell if he was alive or not just by looking at him. If he was breathing it was very slight. She grabbed the vulture's to check his pulse, it was ice cold to the touch, but she could feel something very faint.

"Hey, Mister, you alright?" She asked as she tapped the end of his beak with the index finger of her other hand to wake him.

This did cause him to stir as his face scrunched a little from the tapping and his eyes started to blink open. The young woman stepped back as the old buzzard sluggishly drudged himself upright with a long groan that morphed into a loud yawn. She patiently waited for him to fully wake before she spoke up again.

"Well, hello there!" she said gregariously which snapped his attention towards her.

"H-hello?" He hesitantly replied in a low gruff voice as he titled his head in visible confusion, in an attempt to actually see who he was talking to.

Suddenly, the possibility of finally getting some answers about this place sparked some excitement in the young duck, especially since this old man didn't seem particularly dangerous.

"Alright, so my name's Susan Spruce, and I found this place after my plain got caught in a sand storm and kind of crash landed, and it so nice to meet you, because the place is a bit creepy by myself, and it's great to finally find someone who knows about this place. So what's your name?"

She spoke all this in a rapid fire manner, meanwhile this poor old buzzard was still struggling to see, and as he tried to lean in to get a better look at Susan his hand felt a small pair of glasses lying next to him. He picked them up and started looking through them just as she finished with her question.

"I...uh," he put the glasses on his beak, finally, he could see, "I don't know..."

That was definitely not an answer she was hoping for and the spark in her smile started to wane a bit. "Aheh… Okay, uh… how'd you get here?"

"I don't know." he repeated flatly this time.

"Well… is there anything you can tell me about yourself?... or this place…?" She asked a bit more pleadingly.

Now he was starting to get a little irritated and it showed by the look he was giving her. He straightened himself a little, cleared his throat and said calmly, "Alright, I'll tell you, but this is very important and I'm only going to say this once so you need to listen very carefully." Susan nodded, giving her full attention to him as he cleared his throat again.

"I."

"Yeah!?"

"Don't."

"Uh-uh…"

"Know."

"..." At this point she was just as annoyed as he was and it showed by the look she was giving him back, which did make him smile. Although to be fair, she'd be a bit sassy too, if a stranger started asking her questions as soon as she woke up. She stooped down to pick up her walking stick with a disheartened sigh, "Well, sorry for buggin' you then."

The old vulture took her apology as a 'goodbye', and not really wanting the only other person here to leave yet, he attempted to walk.

"Wait, don—!" The instant his feet hit the ground his legs buckled under his weight and he began to drop. The only reason he didn't face plant onto the floor was Susan jumping towards him propping him back up, and helped lean him against the machine that served as his bed for who knows how long for stability.

"Here," she said, offering him her stick, "you need this more than I do right now."

He took it with a humbled, "Thank you." A small glasses case fell out of his inner coat pocket and clattered on the floor as he used the walking stick to straighten his stance, which Susan was quick to pick up.

"Oh, hey!" she chimed as she got a good look at it, "I found your name!"

She handed the little case back to him and he read the gold print on black leather.

"B. Buzzard "

"Huh…" was all he had to say before tucking the case back into his pocket.

"Well, I guess welcome to the future, Mr. Buzzard." Susan Greeted, this wasn't what she expected to find in an ancient library, but she was glad for the company.

#dt 2017 #f.o.w.l. #OCs #muses #Susan Spruce #Mr. Buzzard #bradford buzzard #Bradford clones #Lost Library of Alexandria #Beginning drabble

[libraryspectre]

In September of 2008 I was 11 and hurricane Ike was about to make landfall. School was delayed. My family, living on the Texas coast, started heading as far inland as we could make it. We ended up in a small town in central Texas called Mason.

Of course there was no where to stay. We knew someone who knew someone who got us in contact with the local church. We were planning to sleep there - my family and my aunt's family, 6 adults, 2 teenagers, 2 kids, and a snake named Vernon. Just as we were walking around, checking the place out, my mom got a call. A member of the church heard about us, and had a little empty ranch-house on his property we could squeeze into. So it was decided.

A lot of us still ended up sleeping on pallets on the floor. That was nothing new, after entire summers of trying to get the whole family into grandma's camper on the beach. I always slept on the floor because I was figety and kicked in my sleep and no one wanted to share a bed with me.

I had brought with me to read Deep and Dark and Dangerous, by Mary Downing Hahn. Hurricane season always came with a lot of fear. I distinctly remember that year after year, I was worried the ancient live oak in the front yard would be uprooted. My daddy would tell me that the oak was old and his roots were strong and deep, and that made me feel a bit better, but a hurricane still seemed like such an impossible force to weather. So I redirected this fear at the ghost story I'd read late into the night. I honestly felt at times like I was living in a ghost story. It seemed to be the perfect setup for one - there was a old dilapidated barn we weren't allowed to go near, a balding pit bull (she was allergic to grass), llamas, and a scary old man (surly, but doing us a great kindness). There was so much anticipation in the air for the hurricane to hit, for news of the damage, that I think I began to anticipate other things as well. I honestly was just waiting for the ghosts to appear.

They never did, or I'd have a better way to end this post, but anyway, I'm re-reading Deep and Dark and Dangerous 12 years later and that feeling keeps coming back to me - sleeping in a strange place, jumpy, under the covers with a flashlight, trying not to worry about trees hundreds of miles away.

#personal #thinkin about this #very strong childhood memory #hurricane season... #such a thing #when youre a kid its like #almost a mini vacation #but your parents are stressed #and youre soaking that up #and you have your own worries rational or not #and its a whole different game whether you leave or stay #still #i live in oregon now #and I miss storms that rattle the windows

[mybiasisexo]

Heartbeat

Genre: Angst | Supernatural!au 

Pairing: Kris x Reader (yeah... your eyes aren’t deceiving you)

Length: 549

Warning: Mentions of Blood | Unfinished but could def be a drabble | It’s brilliant and you will prob want more (yall: actually??????????no❤️, we don’t. Me: word.)

Summary: Something suspicious is going on behind some random bar.

Author’s Note: Another oldie!!!! I think I wrote this in like 2014 (I checked, it was 2015 IDIOT). I had a Plot™, but then I just wrote this and called it a day haha. But, idk, its really good. Like I reread it and am like ‘damn I wrote this????’ truly wild. Plus, Kris. This must’ve been during his bald phase cause the way I feigned for him...smh. Anywho Enjoy!!!

MASTERLIST

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From far above, the city resembles the nighttime sky.

Thousands of twinkling lights dwelling thousands of galaxies and dimensions. Layers of life most people will never be able to experience.

Let’s zoom in a bit, a little closer to a somewhat rundown building, whose rooftop trembles from the bass of the music thumping from within.

Some may say that music controls heartbeats, that appear to slow down or speed up accordingly, never wanting to be left behind, to be forgotten or ostracized.

Lets zoom in closer still, to the back of said building, where the music is just a muted dull pulse.

Yet still it seems to maintain control, at least, control over the poor soul’s who lay upon the dirty damp concrete floor beside the filthy dumpsters that cradle the items that could not keep up with the music. The soul whose heartbeat dulled as her blood slowly left her body, to sustain the life of another.

“Hurry up,” A young woman draped in red and black hisses impatiently.

“Shut up,” the man kneeling before the one on the ground retorts, continuing on.

“Are… are you going to kill me?” A small whimper.

Dead eyes soften from the question, “of course not, Honey.” A reassuring grin.

The darkness is interrupted by the blue and red hue of authority.

The woman growls.

The man stands up proud and tall beside the lady as a police officer gets out of his vehicle to slowly approach them, his hands automatically yanking up the belt of his trousers, an unconscious attempt to remind them he is armed.

They are armed as well.

“May I ask what you two are doing out here in the alley at this time of night?” He asks, but it is not a question.

The man wipes the red off his lips and grins crookedly, “getting some air.”

“It’s hot as balls in there,” the woman finishes, voice firm and flat.

The officer lifts an eyebrow, his eyes scanning the area for the unusual, “is that so?”

The two being questioned just stare.

“There was a call. Someone heard screaming coming from back here. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Actually, we are the ones who placed the call,” the girl informs, her arms crossing over her full chest.

“We couldn’t find anything though, but we still decided to stay out here to meet you, Officer.”

The cop doesn’t buy it. One of his hands slithers down to his hip, the action causes a low chuckle to leave the woman’s mouth.

“I’m going to scan the area, if that is fine with you.”

“By all means,” the man steps away and sweeps his hand towards the dumpsters, allowing the cop access. As the officer walks between the two, he fails to notice them lock eyes.

He takes out his flashlight and runs it over the darkest part of the alley, pausing once he notices the flash of pale flesh.

Before he can utter a syllable, the girl knees him in the back and the man catches him before his knees hit the ground, sinking his teeth into the flushed flesh of his neck.

“God, I hate cops,” the girl states with the roll of her eyes.

One of the twinkling stars flickers out of sight.

#kris wu #kris scenarios #exo scenarios #exo scenario #exo drabble #exo drabbles #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #if I do decide to do something with this it would unfortunately have to be for a different member

[scone-lover]

@findingniamho​

HAHAHAHA thank you so much for this ask!!! ❤️ This is exciting. Honestly the Egghead fight was one of the most entertaining scenes to write. (Coming up with all the puns was an egg-celent time.) Rereading it just now was like an out of body experience 😂 

Link to the original chapter here - passage & commentary below the cut!

So I have to start with how this scene was born. This is a Simon scene. He’s had a couple fight scenes with Vampire, but I wanted to show him off as the superhero of the city. What was he doing before Vampire appeared on the scene? What are his strengths and weaknesses? Despite the scene’s silliness, it’s also one of the first where we start to get a sense of what Mayor Mage is up to. 

So I knew I wanted him to do the typical defending-the-city thing, and showcase him and Penny as the dread companions power duo.

Besides the plot stuff, my main goal was to make this scene as ridiculously, stereotypically comic book-ish as possible. 😂Hence, Egghead the Villain.

Most of the credit for Egghead goes to my friend -- they’re really into DC and helped me with a lot of the plot stuff in this fic and making things semi-realistic. (Every time you read a clever plot point, it was probably them. 😂) For this non-Vampire fight, my friend suggested a gangster who was doing crimes and bribing the police. Hence this exchange--

“Okay, okay, um-- fuck. Did you call the police?” She huffs. “Yes, and I think they’ve been fucking bribed, because they pretended they didn’t even know who Egghead was! Can you believe that?”

I made him a repeat villain because honestly, I just thought it was more compelling that way. They know who he is already, Simon can grumble about him, they have egg-themed quips at the ready, etc. 😂 

As for the name, Egghead. I love how it came together because Simon is a baker, and I was able to work a couple baking jokes in there eventually. But in reality, it was me begging my superhero expert friend (named t below) to help me out with crafting this villain and coming up with some witty exchanges. A transcript of our conversation with the brainstorming and some of the rejects--

t: the gangster has a nickname right? he has to if he’s a supervillain t: make it a gimmick t: like if he has a red outfit call him mr. red or something t: he has a flamethrower and call him dragon (this made it in, later) me: Vampire already has a flamethrower t: they can be forced to fight him together me: Vampire is at home studying bc he’s a NERD t: ok he can be bald and simon can call him egghead me: THANKS I HATE IT t: simon throws him on the ground at the end of the fight - that was over-easy me: I hate you where do you get this shit t: I mean it’s typical superhero stuff t: he wears yellow and white and deals crack me: This fic is so food themed I love it t: that’s your villain. that’s it. t: listen, if the Flash can have an ice skating villain, YOU CAN HAVE EGGHEAD. And he was born.

(And yes, The Flash does have an ice skating villain. AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE ICE POWERS.)

Okay, let’s do this! Warning that this is definitely going to go through more than 500 words of the chapter. 😂 

Men dressed in black suits with bright yellow pocket squares. And larger men around the perimeter, wearing grey and holding flashlights. It looks more like a business transaction than anything; there are briefcases and money being passed back and forth, hands being shaken. “Hey!” I call. There are six men, and they all turn to stare at me, and then make a run for it. The flashlight beams dart wildly and I hear a few of them clatter to the floor. Everyone starts yelling at once and looking for an escape.

I basically watched an episode of Brooklyn-99 and crafted the warehouse drug deal based on that. 

“Don’t move. There’s only one exit,” Penny says in my ear. “And you’re standing in front of it.” I stand my ground, but no one comes near me. The suited guys stay slightly behind the muscular ones. Finally, one of them steps forward. “Mage’s Head Boy. Come to tell us off?”

This scene was also an opportunity to have Penny in Simon’s ear! I wanted them to work together more closely than just talking about superhero stuff - I wanted Penny to be invaluable to Simon’s superhero success and in on the action, too. She’s kind of modeled after Oracle from Batman throughout this fic. 

Mage’s Head Boy is a pretty transparent CO reference. 

There are times when I’m grateful for my ability to just have muscles and growl at people and make them disappear, and there are times when I wish I was witty like Vampire. This is definitely the second. I can’t think of a response to that. Luckily, I have a best friend with a head full of wit. “Tell them to fuck off,” Penny says. Then again, maybe not. What would Vampire say? I get hot and frustrated in the face of danger. He seems to get cooler the higher the stakes get. I fall into a fighting stance. “You wish.” The guy takes a step backwards. “But since I can’t bring you to the police, I suppose I’ll just have to teach you a lesson.” “That was good,” Penny says in my ear.

I obviously had to work a bit of Baz jealousy / crushing into this. I like the idea of Penny being super blunt. She’s smart and sometimes witty, but more often she just says it like it is. “Cooler the higher the stakes get” was a direct reference to the similar line in Carry On. With Simon’s last line - this scene was all about showcasing him as a “typical” superhero that you’d find in a comic, fighting a classic comic book villain. So I gave him one of those cheesy lines.

I’m surrounded. There must be fifteen or twenty of them. Eight huge muscular guys, and the rest in suits. They form a loose circle around me. Almost all of them wield knives, but I don’t see any guns so far.

I knew from the outset I wanted this to be a one-against-many fight. At this point in the story I’d set up a good dynamic for Blade vs Vampire, but not so much Blade vs. other city threats. What makes him a trustworthy hero? Simon’s origin story is that he got news attention by fighting off a group - so putting him in this group fight setting was a chance for him to shine.

A man steps out from the shadows. He’s bald, with a straight, dark mustache, and he’s wearing a pristine white suit and a shirt the colour of an egg yolk. “Egghead,” I say in what I hope is a threatening tone. The name sounds absurd. I’m glad the mask covers my mouth, because I don’t think I can keep a straight face. Penny coughs. Benedict Eggerton, better known as Egghead, is a drug lord who wears yellow and deals… crack. (I know.) (He got into crime early; his parents were poachers.) (Okay, I made that one up. I can’t help it.) I put him in jail earlier this year, but he escaped and fled north.

I was laughing so hard while writing this. You can see in the text exchange above where the suit and nickname came from. I was trying to come up with what his first name might be (my first idea was Sunny). I was so amused when I finally thought of Benedict. 😂 The poachers line is also from my friend T, and the “north” is a reference to Scotland, which comes back later as the Scotch Egg joke.

I draw my weapon, trying to look as menacing as possible. “I remember your blade being bigger,” he says, eyeing my kitchen knife. “Is it too cold for you in here?”

PFFFFFT I LOVE THIS JOKE okay so. I originally made Simon forget his sword because I thought the fight would be too easy - and going back to what I said above, he’s kind of returning to his “roots” with this fight - that spark he has that makes him a hero. And then I wrote the line “I remember your blade being bigger.” TO BE CLEAR, this was not originally intended as an innuendo. 

And then my friend said something like ‘he should turn up the heating in this warehouse then’, and I was like OH DING DING DING PENIS JOKE! 😂I’m oblivious sometimes. I’m glad I realized in time because this is honestly one of my favorite villain lines I’ve ever written.

I really, really wanted to give the “too cold” line to Vampire. It would be perfect for him. But Simon always has his normal sword with Vamp, so Egghead it was. And he instantly became an icon. 😂 

I twirl the knife between my fingers. “I can crack you anyway.” “Good effort,” Penny whispers. “But a bit rough on the delivery. 'Take a crack at you' might have been better...” “Sword or no sword,” I continue, “you’ll be an egg wash by the end of this.” “What?” Penny says. “Is that a baking reference?” Egghead cracks his knuckles, and his men rush me.

Much like Penny does later in the scene, I had a tab open of egg-related words up while writing this. I had to work in the baking reference. But a terrible one. There’s a French term for whisking eggs that basically translates to “beating eggs into snow” - and I wish it was a thing in English, because, you know, Simon Snow. Oh well. 😂 

I Google a list of ways to make eggs. Simon needs to win this fight, but more importantly, he needs to get some egg-themed one-liners in there to show them who’s boss. Chances like this don’t come around very often. 

Listen, Penny is very dedicated. I love the idea of heroes just being quick-witted and coming up with these ridiculous quips on demand. But ultimately, I thought it was funnier - and more in character for Penny - to do this. (Even though her Superhero name is Quickwit, oops.) She has the world of Google at her disposal. Egg puns may not seem important, but superhero image and reputation is half the battle.

Simon is being attacked from all angles, but he fights like a whirlwind. The bulky guys attack first, mostly with their fists. Simon kicks their legs out from under them. He throws them across the floor like they weigh nothing. “Behind you!” I say. Simon spins around and disarms the man behind him, twisting his arm, and I hear a shout through my earbuds. He grabs the guy’s knife and kicks him in the stomach, sending him sprawling. Simon Snow faces fifteen men with nothing but two knives, looking like he’s ready to explode.

I loved writing this from Penny’s POV. I am used to writing fight scenes from the POV of the person fighting, so this was definitely a cool challenge. It’s part of why I brought Penny into the scene in the first place - so I could show Simon in third person. Almost like we’re watching a movie and getting some overhead shots. From his POV, you don’t realize quite how awesome he is. So getting to showcase him like this was really fun.

I still have to wonder how Shepard knew… well, everything. 

Don’t tell anyone but I didn’t know yet either

“He’s Scottish,” I tell Simon. “Scotch Egg.”

I know. This one’s bad.

He’s a blur of gold and white in motion. He throws his knife—I have no idea where he learned to do that—and it embeds itself in one of the men’s legs. He rolls across the floor, picking up two more discarded knives.

I don’t do a ton of plotting/outlining with fight scenes, but one thing I decide in advance is where and how everyone gets hurt. I didn’t want Simon to win the fight too easily, but I did need to injure him somehow. So it wouldn’t be too easy, but also to serve as a counterpoint to the socks thing later.

I watched a lot of action sequences to write this fic, especially with the trickier one vs. many scenes. 

Simon tosses him like a sack of flour.

Couldn’t resist the baker!Simon reference.

“Hard or soft boiled,” I whisper. “Which way is it gonna be, Egghead? Hard or soft boiled?” Simon shouts. He whispers to me, “That was stupid.” Egghead raises an eyebrow. “Last chance to leave us alone, Blade.” I consult my list of egg dishes. “Give up before you get scrambled.” Simon twirls his blades. I love it when he does that; he looks like Deadpool. “It’s your last chance to surrender before you get scrambled.”

I loved the hard or soft boiled line at first. And then I wrote it down and said it out loud, just to check, and it sounded SO DUMB. 😂I almost took it out, but then figured—Simon is probably not going to think this through, either.

Maybe the Deadpool line was a bit on the nose here, but I wanted to give readers some really vivid imagery of what Simon looks like right now with these dual wicked blades kitchen knives.

“I prefer my eggs… poached,” he says. 

Even though Egghead has turned out to be quite a serious villain—there are guns, drugs, and a backstory—he is, after all, original master of the egg puns. He would never turn down this opportunity.

Egghead scrambles (ha) to his feet

I think Penny is just me in this.

“Over-easy,” I whisper.

“That was over-easy,” he says.

Not my best. But it had to be in there.

I’ll skip the serious bits, since the plot there is pretty self-explanatory, to this:

I wish he’d asked what we serve, because I have so many egg puns at the ready. Eggs-ecution. Hash-ing out justice. Karma served hard.  

My beta ashspren gave me this line, and I could not be more grateful. Imagine the chapter without this. It would be a shame.

Here are a few egg puns that didn’t make the cut, SADLY:

You're washed out, egghead

*Egghead gets angry* hey, it was just a yolk

I had to go "beat" some eggs

*uppercut* Sunny side UP!

I'll bash in your Eggnoggin’

Some people are just bad eggs

Sorry this is so long—this has been a purely self-indulgent experience. Thanks so much for this ask, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you like it! ❤️ 

#ask #fanfic asks #ask game #dvd commentary #holding out for a hero #heroverse #hero fic #superhero snowbaz #the golden blade #hfh #behind the scenes #bts #writing things #hfh behind the scenes

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 9: Ch 3

Previous

Summary: Syco and the unnamed Space Explorer question their choices.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

Their arm springs towards me. My sword goes right through them. The book I had let go of several moments ago, the one I could not read, shakes. The unknown figure before me grunts as their hand begins to shake as well. A jerk later, and the book goes flying towards them. They catch it. Quickly, I realize they are a known figure. He is Sakhra’s brother. Ex-brother? I am thousands of light-years away from that desert planet, so why is he here? Does it have to do with Sakhra’s reasoning for not coming with us? I hope he’s okay and that his brothers and sisters do not cross paths with Syco anytime soon because when you are desperate you no longer care. I should do something about that. He trusts me. I should end it before the boulder hits the ground, but it's my stupid humanity that stops me from doing so. Emotions help you see, but it also keeps you from doing anything of substance. I am not strong enough, Ojos. I am sorry.

Two sets of eyes, who now have eye bags underneath them, seemingly stab me. Then, look down at the now open book. It’s not even a minute before their eyes finish scanning through it. Closing it, Sakhra’s ex-brother opens up with, “Another unrelated one, but not completely useless.” 

He slides the book in his sleeve before scanning around the circular wall of books around us and turning back around to the opening behind him. I opened my mouth as he looked both ways, watching out for any guards that may be around, so I could press for answers. Just like then, his steps are precise, gentle. It’s an excuse. I do not want him to stop. I want to know where he is going. I want to know what interested him in coming here. I want to know if I am making the right choice. 

A broad-shouldered figure causes the stairs in front of me and the column my four-eyed leader is hiding behind to creak as he walks down it. He waves his flashlight across the hallway. It passes through me, and not too long after, he does as well. Turning the corner, the once cultist heads up the stairs. I do as well. When landing on the second floor, he goes right into scanning the books that have been carelessly scattered all over the walkway. Three of them are balancing on the handrail. Soon I am leaning over them as the cloaked figure proceeds onwards. Right when I am about to lose sight of him, I also scan. A million books. There have to be at least a million books on the first floor alone. Even if Shiitakee tried to validate Saamuki's theory, one that is “going to change everything”, we would not come close to finishing the first floor. A month and we would barely make it halfway. I wonder how Saamuki is doing. By now, Shiitakee is back on the ship drooling and snoring, waiting for us to come back after just flipping through three books, but he is not useless. Apparently, not. I do not know much about him. He’s known Syco for a long time, years, yet Syco trusts me more than him. Why? Unlike Commander Knox, Shiitakee has not proven himself to be untrustworthy. He has not snitched on us peeking in on The Commander being on life support. Maybe there is more to his whining. I hope this all is not another convoluted plan for Syco to see just how small his inner circle has become. Shiitakee is with our unconscious bodies, after all. I stretch and yawn as he becomes interested in a book with torn and stained pages. 

He is pressing his hands and sliding them across a dead-end by the time I stop trying to reason my realizations. There is a third floor. I saw it from down there. So, why is there a dead-end? His middle and index fingers glide across it, collecting dust and causing a spider to skitter away. He flicks away the grey spot on his fingers and leans closer to the trail he made. The figure, now triumphant, has to move behind a large stack of books when footsteps close in. I think I hear him cuss. Another broad figure, though this one is slender, comes this way with a flashlight. Pointed on the wall, he spots my companion’s handiwork. He steps towards it, squinting. "Hm." He waves his flashlight around. The universe works in mysterious ways, it seems. If I am being honest, I have to say I love it sometimes. Most of the time, I hate it. Now? Well, I am not sure. His watch blinks green. It vibrates with a soft buzz. He leaves and leaves my relieved, cloaked companion to wander back to the wall and fiddle around some more with it until a click is heard. A chunk of the door slides inwards to the left. Somehow the room beyond looked darker than outer space. As soon as he steps inside, the door begins to slide back into place. I follow, going through half of the closing door. Another click. The door shuts, locking us in darkness. Then, locking us with an illuminated staircase thanks to the flashlight he pulled out of his sleeve. I wonder what else is up his sleeve. 

Against the winding staircase are two brick walls. Among them are paintings. Dust makes it hard to see who or what is painted. It’s not like they’re important to the mission, but one of them catches my eye. Five scratches, a claw, tore through the face of a well-dressed man with a scowl and a balding head. I touch the torn cotton page, press against it, and I, thankfully, find out the deed was done much time ago, but this means its cause is lost to time. I do hope it stays that way. I do not want to confront its cause anytime soon. Although, the universe has an odd way of connecting me with people I would not ever think I would be in the presence of. 

I certainly would not have imagined being in the presence of that. This floor is just like the others. Books had been mindlessly placed wherever on nearly every crook and cranny. Although, besides being a lot smaller than its predecessors, this one has the added bonus of having a statue of a caped figure pointing towards the window. The statue has a faceless mask. Rounding it, as my companion mutters about his plea to find what he is looking for while shuffling through book after book, I see that same symbol that was all over that town square, a circle with a dot inside, directly plastered at the center of the statue’s cape. I step back and grip the handrail. Turns out I am not the only one discontent because he too is not any better at finding out what he is looking for. Pacing back and forth, he mumbles something. He nearly trips on a book while doing so, which he kicks away. Eventually, he squeezes the bridge of his nose with his index and thumb, using the hand of the arm I stabbed days ago. Then, proceeds to groan but is cut short by the opening of another entrance. All four of his eyes widened. He throws himself behind one of the many stacks of books. 

A secret door slides inwards from the statue's podium in the corner of my eye. A striking figure with a faceless mask and a cape appears in its doorway. My eyes dart back and forth from this newly arrived figure to the statue. Both are one and the same. 

The figure bends down and seizes the book my companion had just kicked off the ground. They turn to me. One minute into this figure’s arrival and I am already getting a bad feeling about them. They turn and stride towards me. Their cape trails behind them. I really thought they could see me. I should know by now it would be impossible because I trust Saamuki, but it is just the vibe I get from them that causes me to think so irrationally. Of course, they do not notice me even as they step next to me. Upon gripping the handrail with one hand and throwing the book to the first floor with the other, which fell with a deafening slam, I find out why the library is the way that it is. Swatting the side of the cape with the newly freed hand, they groan while lowering their head. Their voice is deep, but there is a bit of femininity to it. “Those insolent imbeciles.” Tightening their grip on the handrail, I hear friction. I think I hear a crack. Maybe the wood beneath their terrifyingly big hand split. I am not sure. I am too weary to check.

Raising their head up, but with hunched shoulders now, they continue, “At least I have this place, the only place left in the universe where I can finally be alone and away from those bastards.”

Magically, a parchment appears in their free now glowing golden hand. With a deep inhale, they then proceed to write down the reason for their annoyance. It goes as follows: “It would be ignorant of me—a failure of my due diligence—to dismiss my duty within the council. Therefore, I understand each of us is in charge of distinct positions. However, at times, our positions must blend into one another as those occurrences involve imprecise issues. (This should be common sense to the others by now. Apparently, not. I presume they do it on purpose.) I seek out fallacies, although it is nonsensical to say such as it is an obligation. I was born to feel this way. Refer to ‘On the Creation: Between Mortal and God’, edition five if confused, or dare I say, forgotten. My duty, in the summary of chapter eleven of the previously mentioned book, is to provide reasoning and logic to the Lords of the Universe.”

I froze. I can not make a sound, and I for sure can not do anything with this information. Right here. Right in front of me stands the point of this all. Before I barked, and now I can not bite. The Lords of the Universe are the executives of the universe and commanders of Watchers. They are the reason why Syco dehumanized me. Most importantly they have my people. Their cape and the vibe they gave me make sense now. Supposedly, I am to confront them soon enough. I want to do something, anything but run away. I can not, though. I could touch them, and they can not touch me, I hope. My computerized sword would not do much good. One blast and I would just be teleported back to the ship, thousands of light-years away. It is useless, so I have to remind myself to remain silent. My companion tries to do just that as they raise their head from the small wall of books. Because the Lord is still facing away, they proceed to get up and move towards the secret door we came out of. He is quiet as per usual. The Lord continues to scribble down on their parchment, but they stop once he reaches where the door should be. 

“Ah, the famous knife-wielder I have heard so much about.” He freezes. The Lord, turning to him, has the parchment fade away with the fading of their glow. “And before you ask, yes, I did know you have been here since I stepped foot on this floor. I did not react until now because you were of no danger to me. You still are not. You as well, human.” I pull both my dagger and staff out. The Lord lifts their hand. Continuing, “There is no need to become barbaric. I plan to let the both of you go after a brief interrogation.”

#221 #lost in space #my wrting #writers on tumblr #writeblr

[sinfulserpents]

For Whom the Bell Tolls [1]

Apocalyptic AU / Steve Harrington x fem! Reader

I have a weird thing for apocalyptic stories - so enjoy this vampire invasion AU 

warnings: mentions of graphic violence and killing, swearing 

summary: the world was chaotic and yet, Steve had somehow found you

word count: 1.2k

this could be my worst work, but i just finished re-watching i am legend - so enjoy; i guess :”)

KANSAS, SEPTEMBER 1ST 

Too tight. 

The rope around your neck burned your flesh with every pull from the stranger who was tugging. Your hands grasped at the thin material, desperately pulling at it to get air into your lungs - while your legs kicked out at nothing. 

Too. Tight.

“Stupid bitch!” Desperate. 

You were fighting back enough to kick into the nearest shelving unit on your left and send it toppling into the bulky stranger who was trying to kill you. 

Your body flew forward as your lungs took in the oxygen they were deprived of - hands tossing the rope to the side as you crawled far away; eyes set on the glimmering silver of your gun that was kicked near the postcard stand. 

With a shaky hand you were quick to grab the handgun, knees burning against the linoleum flooring from the holes in the knees of your jeans. Throwing yourself flat on your ass, you raised the gun ahead of you as the balding guy pushed the shelves off him - staggering over to you with nothing but fire in his eyes. 

Finger ready on the trigger; you were prepared to take a shot - gun directly inline with his head. Then it echoed.

Too loud.

The smell of gun powder filled the air, as your attackers body fell to the ground - limp; blood pooling around the wound in his head. But you didn’t shoot.

Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the area as your gun remained raised in the air, ready to fire. A flurry of brown hair entered your line of sight, his gun raised in front of himself too. His deep voice echoed throughout the store, thick with panic and frustration.

“Drop the gun and get the fuck up! Now!”

Your positioned remained, facial expression stoic as you stared at him. “Why don’t you drop yours!”

“I fucking ordered you to put your gun down and stand up!”

“You’re not my father - shut the fuck up!”

On tired legs, you stood - your hands holding your gun never faltering as you aimed in-between the strangers eyes. His gun positioned directly in line with your shoulder; noticing his compromise - he quickly mimicked your positioning.

“Drop your weapon,” he gritted, spit flying from between his teeth. Both of you tense with anticipation of the others next move. 

“Drop yours first.”

Too tense. 

With a reluctant sigh, he apprehensively lowered his gun; watching intently as you did the same. The sound of the blaring emergency siren echoed outside, both of you ignoring the vibrating of gunfire and howling from outside the walls of the small corner store. 

Chests heaving, your finger remained on the trigger of the weapon in your palms, as did his. Dust was settling on his desperate features that had already seen too much in such little time. 

He was handsome, that much was certain. Honey eyes that were unfortunately bloodshot and broad shoulders that were straining against his white shirt dirtied with crimson blood and dirt. You could’ve fallen for him. Before. 

“Steve,” he cut the pregnant silence between the pair of you. Pointing to himself before nodding towards you, a silent gesture for you to introduce yourself.

“Y/N,” you nodded back, before gesturing to the dead man at your feet. “Thank you for killing him.” 

“I didn’t do it for you.”

The silence settled back in, as your hands grabbed your backpack that you had tossed over the counter of the store before you were thrown back by a rope on your neck. 

Tightening the straps over your shoulders, you checked that you knife was in the holster on your ankle - before you began to walk back towards the entrance of the store. 

A loud bang reverberated from the door you were walking towards before the little bell echoed signalling the presences of someone else. Something else. The loud squeal of the blood thirsty creature bounced off the tiled walls as you staggered backward as quietly as you could. 

The feeling of a hand wrapping tightly around your wrist, caused your head to snap to the side as you toppled into Steve who was pulling you towards the near fire-exit. No complaints left your lips as you followed behind him; scrappy old converse skidding against the floor. 

Steve pushed open the door and ushered you through before following you, his grip never leaving your hand - tight enough to leave bruises. Throwing you both out to the wolves. Rabid wolves. 

The two of you ducked behind overthrown cars and ambulances, Steve pulling you behind him for hours until you reached the outskirts of town - your body aching from exhaustion. 

The sky was turning hues of orange and gold - both of you knowing that you had to get inside before dark. The creatures were worse once the sun was down - they thrived in the darkness. 

Steve had a destination in mind; face set in a permanent expression of determination until the pair of you reached what appeared to be a small apartment building. With a wretched sigh, Steve reached out to knock on the door boarded by wooden planks. Twice. 

They squeaked as someone inside opened them, a hand gripping Steve’s shoulder to pull the pair of you inside. Your eyes adjusted to the UV lights that shone down on you, as you took in the sight before you.

Sleeping bags littered the floor as families sat huddled together; children being read to by their parents and the elderly sleeping. 

“Where the fuck have you been Harrington?” A burly man decked in camouflage clothing asked, eyes darting in your direction. “Who the fuck is she?”

“A straggler,” the shorter boy shrugged, his grip around your hand finally leaving. “She’s with us now.”

The other man hadn’t removed his gaze from your body, but gave Steve a nod before pointing to his backpack. “Get anything good?”

“No time,” Steve shook his head, dropping the pack to the floor, before wrapping a chain around the handles of the door. “She almost got killed; so I saved her before a vamp entered.”

“I’ll come with you next time, Denise needs her medication.”

“Get some rest Maverick.”

With a final look shared between both men, Steve took your hand in his again; gentler this time. Weaving in-between the people who were laying on the floor as he pulled you up a flight of stairs and into the closest room. 

Leading you into a bathroom, Steve picked up a large flashlight - switching it on to illuminate the area. 

“Get up onto the sink,” his voice was low - soft now that you both appeared to be in no immediate danger. You didn’t question him again, pulling yourself up onto the counter with weak arms as he grabbed a kit from under the sink.

Medical.

Steve didn’t say anything else as he rifled through the small bag, pulling out some antiseptic and cotton swabs; unscrewing the cap before pouring the liquid onto the absorbent material. 

His harsh, calloused hand gripped your chin as he tilted your head up until you were staring at the ceiling; a cold finger lightly tracing the burn mark the rope had left around your throat. 

“Let’s get this fixed up - and then rest.”

A form of trust was born from the ashes of disaster.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington au #steve harrington angst #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #steveharrington #stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things s3 #stranger things season 3 #strangerthings #stranger things steve #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things one shot #stranger things oneshot #stranger things au #steve harrington apocalypse #apocalypse au #vampires #au #alternate reality #imagine #imagines

[therainroguefanfiction]

❉ 139 Dreams (Jake Webber) Reckless

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Supernatural, AU, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 2,564 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Jake ☁

World: YouTube ☁

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

Dating a YouTuber came with its own set of hardships, but that list was nearly tripped when you dated a reckless one. Jake Webber was the embodiment of reckless – he never considered consequences, he just wanted to live for the moment and make videos. The site itself was partially to blame. So many were losing ad revenue and getting demonetized, making it nearly impossible to survive doing what they loved. With this, people had to find more creative and insane ways to ramp up their view and sub counts. Jake was no exception.

“Hey, babe. Do you work tomorrow?”

You glanced down at your boyfriend who was using your legs as a pillow and scrolling through his YouTube comments. “No, why?”

He leaned his head back to look up at you. “There’s someone a few hours from here that claims their house is haunted. They invited us to stay the night.”

“Is staying at a stranger’s house overnight really the smartest thing?”

“No,” he paused, grinning. “But it’s not the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Come on, it’ll be fun!” He sat up, pulling you into a messy kiss. “He says that there’s some poltergeist activity. Think of the views!”

“Jake…”

“I’ll protect you~” He pouted, playing with the pendant around your neck. It had been a gift from him when you first started dating. “I know you love haunted locations.”

That’s what he thought because you always insisted on joining him on his haunted trips, but you didn’t enjoy it at all. If you were to be honest, you hated it. You grew up in a family of people who hunted and killed things that go bump in the night, and you know how dangerous spirits can be. Not just spirits, but his group sometimes comes across demons, as well. Jake is a skeptic and doesn’t take the paranormal seriously. Of course, you have to tag along – that idiot would get himself killed without you. He doesn’t know about your past, however, or your current job of taking care of supernatural creatures. Colby is the only one in the house that knows.

“Please?” He snuggled into your neck, pressing his lips against your skin. He smiled when you sighed in defeat, knowing he had won.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Jake Webber.”

He chuckled. “We’ll go together, babe.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

The house was tucked back in a wooded area of the mountains, surrounded by thick trees that towered over the Earth. It was a mixture of old Victorian and wooden cabin and it sent chills down your spine. The grass was overgrown and the house was in bad shape. It wasn’t the least bit welcoming and looked like the kind of place a serial killer would stay.

Demons and ghosts, you could handle. They were predictable and straightforward with what they want and how they act. But humans? They scare the shit out of you. They’re unpredictable and you never know what someone can and will do. You’d take the supernatural over humans any day.

Jake’s hand slipped into your own. “Are you scared~?”

“This is a bad idea, Jake.” You stated firmly, despite knowing that he wouldn’t change his mind.

“Thank you!” Corey cried from behind you. “At least I’m not the only sane one in this group.”

“It’ll be fine.” Jake waved us off as he approached the house. “This guy’s a fan!”

“So he says,” you muttered under your breath. Did he forget that human beings lie all the time?

Colby came up behind you, leaning close so the others wouldn’t hear him. “Do you sense anything?”

“No, nothing paranormal, but…”

“But?” He prompted.

“Something doesn’t feel right.” Was all you said as you headed toward the house. Jake had already knocked and was talking to the homeowner – a balding man with a beer belly and beady eyes. He looked at you when you approached and you felt a sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. All you wanted to do was turn tail and run, but you couldn’t leave your idiot boyfriend behind. He was as stubborn as he was reckless, and would refuse to leave. Knocking him out was always an option, but you had the rest of the roommates to worry about too.

Jake threw his arm around your waist when you settled by his side. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. That’s Colby, Sam, and Corey.”

“Nice to meet y’all.” The man smiled, but it didn’t reach his dark eyes. “Name’s George. Come on in, I’ll show you around.”

The inside of the house was even worse than the outside. The floor creaked under your weight, feeling like it could give at any moment. The smell of ammonia and mothballs invaded your nose, stinging at your eyes. You didn’t even want to think about the various cobwebs that covered the walls. The furniture was old and worn, and the couch looked as if it had been taken from a dumpster after twenty years of being chewed on by rats.

You refused to sit on the couch, so you decided to inspect the rest of the room. The wallpaper was faded and peeling, stained a pale yellow. There was only one single painting in the living room, of an older woman sitting on the very couch in which Jake now sat. Her gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her thin lips pursed and beady eyes narrowed.

“That’s my ma,” George had come up behind you, far too close for your comfort as he breathed into your ear.

You quickly stepped away, nearly stepping on Sam’s foot, since he was beside you.

“Where is she now?” Sam inquired.

“Dead,” The way he said it with no emotion or attachment unnerved you.

“Did she die in this house?” Jake asked, not stopping to think that it may be insensitive. You shot him a look and he just shrugged, making you want to facepalm.

“Yeah. She was attacked in the kitchen and dragged to the basement where she bled out.”

“Attacked?” Corey was looking between all of you with wide eyes. His own unease was growing and he was regretting letting Jake talk him into this.

“It was a break-in. They never caught the guy.”

Something told you that there was more to the story, but you didn’t ask.

He took the group on a tour of the house, pointing out areas that he deemed ‘hot spots of paranormal activity’. Jake asked to see the basement, but the man refused, saying that it brought back too many bad memories and he didn’t want the door opened. After finishing the tour, he said that he was going to run into town to get some beer and would be back soon.

Jake waited until the old pickup truck was out of view before he turned to the group with a grin. “Let’s find out what’s in that basement.”

“What?” Corey looked between him and the other boys. “He specifically said he didn’t want us in the basement.”

“Think about it, bro. There’s got to be something down there! If she died in the basement, it’s gotta be the most haunted area.”

“I checked the door earlier, it’s locked,” Colby added, his hand resting on the side of his neck.

Jake approached the door, which was off to the side of the living room, and wrapped his hand around the doorknob. It turned with ease, clicking as it released.

“I swear it was locked.” He looked at me with confusion in his eyes.

“Well, it’s not now.” Jake shrugged, pulling it open. “Let’s go, boys. And babe,” he added as an afterthought.

“I am not going down there.” Corey folded his arms over his hoodie.

“Fine, you can be the lookout. Yell if you see him coming.” Jake rolled his eyes and started to descend the stairs, followed by Sam. You and Colby brought up the rear.

“Y/N,” Colby followed close behind you, his voice a whisper. “Do you think he unlocked it before leaving?”

“I don’t know…” You sighed, feeling a headache beginning. “I thought it was strange that he left right after giving us a tour. This could be a trap.”

“God, it reeks down here.” Jake scrunched up his nose, using his phone flashlight to look around.

“It smells like death,” Sam commented, bringing his shirt up to cover his nose.

It was a smell you had become familiar with after years of working as a hunter – the smell of a rotting corpse. Your body became tense as you realized what was happening, but Sam yelled before you could say anything.

“What the fuck is that?!” Sam pointed his phone towards the corner of the basement, but the light wasn’t bright enough to fully cut through the darkness.

“We need to leave.” You stated, your voice full of authority as you locked eyes with Jake. “Now, Jake.”

He hesitated, but seeing how serious you had become, he reluctantly stepped back, glancing back in the direction of the corner. Sam took a step forward but Colby grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the stairs.

Corey appeared at the top of the stairs, looking panicked. “He’s back!”

You all picked up your step, rushing up the stairs and slamming the door moments before he entered. He wasn’t carrying any beer, and his face was blank as he stared at the group. You caught sight of a knife concealed under his shirt and tucked into his faded jeans.

You stepped forward, standing in front of Jake. His hands went to your waist, fingers digging into the fabric of your pants.

“We’re going to leave,” you announced, doing your very best to make your voice loud and confident. “You’re not going to stop us, and we’re going to forget about all of this. Right?”

His lifeless eyes met yours – he seemed to be contemplating your words. “I can’t let you do that.” He reached for the knife, slowly pulling it from his pants. It glinted in the low lighting. Like everything else, it was ragged and rust-covered the blade in several areas. It would do some serious damage.

“Woah, calm down.” Corey took a step back as the group tensed. Jake tried to tug you back, but you didn’t budge, nor did you let him place himself in front of you.

“Babe – ”

“Trust me.” You whispered, eyes not leaving the man’s. He didn’t step away, but he didn’t try to move you.

The man tilted his head.

“It was you, wasn’t it.” You stated, eyes narrowing at him. “It wasn’t a break-in. You murdered her and staged it to look like one.”

Sam took in a shaky breath. “That means…”

You nodded – the thing Sam had seen in the basement was the rotting corpse of George’s mother.

‘Jeez, why couldn’t it have been a demon? I can’t read this guy!’, your lips tugged down, hand inching towards the pocket on your thigh.

Jake frowned, looking at Sam in confusion. He hadn’t seen the body. Corey looked just as confused but more terrified than anything.

“Why did you do it?” You asked.

“Why?” He echoed. “She was a bitch.”

You scoffed. “If people murdered everyone that was a bitch, more than half the population would be wiped out.”

“That would be beautiful.”

“Is this guy Thanos?” Corey whispered, harshly.

The man stepped forward and Jake pushed you back. Using his body as a distraction, your hand quickly reached into the pocket on your pants, fingers wrapping around the handle of the blade. Placing your free hand on Jake’s back, you pushed him aside and threw the blade. It flew through the air, slicing the man’s wrist before embedding into the wood behind him. The sudden wound made him drop the knife and you rushed forward, using the momentum to slam your fist into his face. He grunted in pain, stumbling back.

“Go!” You ordered, tugging the knife free from the wood before rushing after the boys. They didn’t hesitate, aside from Jake, rushing towards the back door. Colby unlocked the car and the group scrambled to get inside. Corey was screaming for him to hurry as the man rushed out of the house, clutching the knife again. Colby threw the car into reverse and peeled out of the driveway.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

The drive home was completely silent, no one knowing what to say. No one said a word even after returning home. Aaron asked how it went, not expecting you to return so quickly, but Colby just shook his head. Everyone went to their rooms.

You watched as Jake pulled his shirt off, throwing it onto the hamper. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

You remained silent, eyes watching him as he left the room. The headache was worse now, your temple throbbing. The events of the past few hours were swirling in your brain. Should you call the police? You doubted that he or the evidence would still be there, but… if you didn’t, it would haunt you. You pulled out your phone and called up an old acquaintance of your family. He worked as a detective for the L.A.P.D and he thanked you for reporting it, promising to reach out if anything came from it.

After the call, you grabbed the bottle of meds from the dresser, hoping to relieve the pressure against your skull.

Jake re-entered the room, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His lips tugged into a smirk when he caught you staring. “Like what you see?”

“That’s a stupid question.” You ran your hand through his damp purple hair. “If I could get away with it, I’d spend my life just staring at you.”

He chuckled, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, forehead resting against yours. “Do you realize your sexiness went up like crazy tonight?”

You raised a brow, running your thumb under his bottom lip as you hummed. “Do tell,”

His lips found yours, body pushing you until you fell onto the bed. He hovered over you, his lips moving slow and sensual. Your hand gently traced patterns in his stomach, making him groan in approval. The need for air won and he pulled away, both of you breathing heavy.

“I love you, babe.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“I love you, too, even if you are a reckless idiot.”

He pouted, “That’s not called for.”

You laughed and he dropped his weight on you, cutting off your laughter. You didn’t complain, allowing him to snuggle into you as you ran your hand through his hair. It wasn’t long before you both fell asleep.

That night, you dreamed of the woman from the painting. She didn’t look nearly as angry as it had depicted her. She thanked you for solving her murder and allowing her to move on.

The next morning, George’s face was all over the news. The police had arrived just as he was fleeing the house. He tried to cover up his crime by setting fire to the home, but the police arrived in time to stop the fire and preserve the evidence. He was locked away for life, and the roommates soon forgot about the events that took place thanks to an old friend who knew how to manipulate memories.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

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[the-headbop-wraith]

1_12 Contracts

Summary: The Mystery Skulls spend a night exploring a condemned welding plant rumored to be haunted.  The group encounters shadow people lingering and cold spots, but one spirit in particular offers cryptic advice regarding a shy spook that doesn’t wish to be bothered.

The mom and pop diner had been around for a quarter of the century and sustained its self through the regulars and travelers passing through, or infrequent few that come by from the thoroughfare where the line of hotels and motels had sprung up over the decades.  A steady fog of amber sun gleamed through the thin paned windows that faced the parking lot, beyond awaited the road and the distance motels.  It was customary of restaurants with outdated stoves to raise a dull haze into the ceiling, for which the air transported rich currents of coffee, sizzling bacon and eggs, and cooking potatoes.

This old time atmosphere was lost on regulars who frequented these places, the promise of good coffee and a warm meal the only acquisition worth the time allotted.  Sometimes this reward was a ruse, and the disappointed customer would mark it down on the migration as a place that would never see a bill from their wallet again.  Vivi didn’t care, as she had her fair share of substandard meals that were not prepared by strangers, food was food.  Traveling as her group did on a tight schedule and a stricter budget, beggars couldn’t be choosy.

“I must interject,” Arthur began, as he scooted his coffee mug nearer to the edge of the worn plastic table when the waiter came by.  Arhur waited until the waiter refilled his mug and stepped away, before he continued, “that this spirit you guys saw may have been screwin’ with you.  Lewis in particular.”  Arthur took a sip before the steam could settle.

Vivi shrugged.  She tapped away at the computer, about twenty tabs open in each of the search engines she skimmed through.  “I don’t wanna come off as sounding naïve, but he seemed genuine,” she said.  “Anyway, he didn’t really mention anything about Lew.  Just gave us the fetch quest and wished us a good luck.”  Vivi pause and placed her elbows to the table top and entwined her fingers together, and set her chin on the bridge her knuckles formed.  “I don’t think he was from the plant.  He had a nondescript following him, same color as him; like with Lew and his deadbeats.”

Arthur cut his sausages with his fork, while picking up a chicken tender from the appetizer plate set between their individuals plates.  The chicken tender disappeared under the table, and Arthur selected another one in the same fashion, jaws clacking below.  “A suicide may not be impossible to look up,” Arthur says, and another chicken tender goes under the table while he pokes at a sausage with his fork, “but it may be well hidden unless we look for some more specific details.  A date, a time?  There would have to be an unrelated article somewhere.”

“I keep trying the factories name,” Vivi says.  More tabs in the search engine, a few others closed.  She sips at her warm tea and sighs.  “Maybe I’m trying to be too specific.  Er… damn?”

“Freeze up again?”  Arthur’s question was answered, as Vivi hefted up the laptop and passed it over the table to him.  “Hold up a sec.  You got Firefox opened too?”  He pushed his half eaten plate away and set the laptop down.  “It sucks when you got Chrome open.”  Arthur yelped when a loud snarl came from under the table, followed by a clank.  “I wasn’t talking to you!”

“Forgot I was using it,” Vivi says, as apology.  She fumbles with a piece of bacon on her plate and looks out the large window beside them.  “‘The one you should be looking for,’” she repeats.

__

“He’s hiding from you.”

Lewis had moved to stand between Vivi and the other when its voice found them, but Vivi had gently nudged him aside and raised her camera to get a picture.  She never took her eyes off the gloomy figure, maybe as tall as Lewis, standing on the first step of a set of cement stairs leading to a higher level of the factory.  The voice had a thick grating, as if the bearer was older in life, if not in death.

The condemned welding plant had been shut down for years, following its closure.  The drums and machinery left behind emit a heavy vapor of rust, traces of seeping propane and oil fumes filled the air with a thick tar.  The only light source came from a flashlight Vivi carried, and what moonlight drips down from the large thick shutters high above in the ceiling.

“Who… do you think we should be looking for?” Lewis asked.  He looked over as Vivi checked the view screen of the camera, and showed him the figure carefully hidden by dark folds of shadows and grease.  But Lewis could make out dissimilar features, a bald head, bright eyes gleaming, and a dark suit.  The figure looked human, but for its eyes.

“I don’t come here often,” said the other.  He watched Vivi carefully.  ��The others, they remain.  I know none of them.”

Vivi waited.  She noted a shape huddled on the steps somewhere above the other spirit, a dull glow emitting from its chest which had a coloration that matched the heart of the spirit whom addressed them.  It was too cold to be standing around, the factory absorbed the heat and expelled icy drafts that clung to bones.  “So this guy, you wouldn’t know his name?” she says.  “He’s a he?  Right?”

The spirit crackled, his voice hollow but it failed to echo around them.  “I sometimes come around here.  After the place was shut down, but even then that was a long time ago.”  A strange sound came from him, a rattle or crinkle, and the nondescript shadow on the steps faded.  “But you’re here, you must be looking for him.”

“If you say so?” Lewis said, unsure himself.  “We’re just paranormal investigators, trying to catch some evidence of unusual occurrences.  Namely, spooks.”

“I see,” the other said.  “Then I’m right.  You should be looking for him, and he is hiding from you.”

Vivi pulled her backpack around and slipped the camera into a side pocket.  “I hope you don’t tell us we’re wasting our time, wandering around here,” Vivi says.  She adjusts the straps on her shoulders and thumbs at the walkie-talkie in her hand.  “Because we have ways to draw out the shy ones.”

The eyes of the other spirit brightened.  “You do?” he said, and glanced away for a moment.  “It would help if you had a unique item of his?”

Vivi took a step toward the steps, and the spirit snapped his gaze back on her.  “Immensely.  Is there something in this factory he favored, or owned?”

“No, not here, I don’t think,” the spirit said.  Above him, the lingering nondescript reappeared, nearly missed in the gloom as it drifted down to its companion.  “I know a few very interesting details that will help you, should you want to speak with him.”

 Vivi jarred.  She heard Arthur’s voice in her ear and tried to answer him on the walkie-talkie.  She blinked, her heavy eyelids struggling to stay down as she drew her face back from the table’s surface.

Arthur winced and withdrew his hand from her shoulder.  “Sorry,” he said, and held up the laptop in his good arm.  “I fixed it, but you looked really beat.”

“So why’d you wake me?”  Vivi pulled her back upright, and fixed the magenta glasses on the bridge of her nose.  She looked to where Arthur was pointing to the plates, dangerously near the edge of the table.

“You are such a restless sleeper.”  Arthur set the laptop down in the space before her, and pulled the top screen open.  “I had to go back and retrieve a bunch of your browsing history, but I don’t think you’ve checked this link yet?”  His metal arm reached around the screens side and indicated one of the non-highlighted links.

As Arthur pulled back the plates from the edge of Sparta, Vivi clicked on the link.  “It didn’t have a lot of visits, so I just forgot about it.”  A shabby and self-made webpage appeared, the font very simple and all of the simplicity of the site gave off the strong vibe of do-it-yourself-or-don’t.  The links did work, the list included Home page, Town history, Images, and a few others.  Vivi selected Businesses.  She took a scoop of her eggs as she read down the page, a long list of shops, farmers, and one page for the welding factory they had visited.  “Okay, fingers crossed,” she announced, as she clicked the link.  She took her last piece of bacon and passed it under the table.

“Remember,” Arthur says, chewing on a buttered biscuit.  He shifted his food into his cheek like Galahad would, before he went on, “Even little things can be enlightening.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivi muttered.  “I always check.  Last on my list though.”  She read through the numerous articles, more history, she picked some of the dates and historical value of the old factory.  “Yes!  Got it!”  She spun the laptop around, nearly knocking Arthur’s coffee over as she pushed the computer toward him.  “Name. Got a name.”

Arthur rescued his coffee, and took another sip as his eyes wandered to the page.  “Local man commits suicide?  You sure that’s the one?” he asked.  Suicides weren’t uncommon, said to say.  Arthur didn’t like the topic far less than others.

Vivi ordered another tea, before she leaned over to the computer.  “This one’s it because he worked at the factory.  I know it doesn’t say it there – like you said they don’t tell people about these things, but he worked at the factory, and he killed himself there.  It’s him.”  She spun the computer back around and stooped over, to the wall under the window where her backpack rested.  “Some of his family still resides in the city.”

“No, you’re not getting my sausage,” Arthur said, under the table.  He scooted his plate from the edge, and gave a cough.  “Yeah, about messaging between family and the deceased,” he grumbled.  “I hate that!”

“They’re not direct relatives,” Vivi says, struggling to keep her voice low.  “Descendants.  We’ll tell them we’re curious about some… bogus family history.  That ghost said—”

“That ghost was a complete dick!”  Arthur sighed and rubbed his face as he sat back.  The booth seat was so uncomfortable, but after a night of walking around in that drafty factory… no, he still hated the hard cold seat.  “We’re going on a fetch quest, why?”

“Because the ghost we want committed suicide.  And he was hiding from us,” Vivi says.  She smiles sweetly to the waiter when he brought more hot water and a new teabag.  “I want to know why he’s hiding from us.”

“Have you seen Lewis lately?” Arthur mumbled, looking into his empty coffee mug.  “He’s hard to miss.  Fucking scary too.”  He said that last part under his breath.

“Where is Lewis by the way?”  Vivi had two windows on the laptop open, just like her days attending college and writing book reports.  One window was a phonebook with names and addresses, the other tab was left open for the history of the welding factory.

“Went for a walk,” Arthur said.  He finished off his sausages and poked at his hash browns with his fork.  “I think.”  He thanked the waiter as more coffee came his way.  “You think he’s jealous you were talking to another ghost?”

Vivi put her sleeve to her lips as she giggled.  “No,” she says.  “He better not be.”  Arthur smirked and gave a light snicker.  “Do you think he gets hungry?  Or, maybe he’s around food he gets hungry?  Like, does he even smell?”

“Not bad?” Arthur said.  He chewed on some of his hash browns, and winced when Vivi tried to pop him on his good shoulder.  “Hey!  These are tasty, and I’m not done,” he growled.  “No-no.  No potatoes for you Mystery.”

“What about eating?”  Vivi continues.  She watches as Arthur picks up his mug of coffee and lifts it to his lips.  “Do you think he could….?  Never mind.”  She looks away and presses her lips together.

“Huh?” Arthur says.  And takes a sip.

“I was just thinking about Casper.”  She had his reaction pegged to a dime.  Arthur snorted and began coughing.  “Sorry.”

“My good pants!” Arthur snarled, as he went for the napkins and began blotting up the black mess now all over his plate and the table.  “Just got them from home!”

“That was pretty good,” Vivi says.

“Yeah, it was,” Arthur grumbled.  He took the half glass of water and poured some water onto his pants.  “I’m up to get you next.  The scores…. Eh, three and two.  I’m still winning.”

“I still say pointing out Lewis is shaped like a Dorito doesn’t count,” Vivi says.  She cut off a piece of her egg and ate it, then went back to scrolling and writing.  “Only because it is true, and that’s a foul.”

“You still laughed, and that’s what counts,” he said.  Arthur’s pants weren’t stained too bad, a few drops that the water had diluted enough.

“I feel bad about it though,” Vivi said.  She took a few more sips of her tea and finished off her eggs, then took the remainder of Arthur’s biscuit.

“I don’t think it bothered him that much,” Arthur says, as he scoots the tatters of potato remains around on his plate.  “He’ll just never look at a Dorito the same way.  No loss.”

“No, I mean—” Vivi stopped and stared at Arthur for a moment.  Recognition of who he was and their topic source hitting her hard.  She took a breath and sipped at her tea a little more.  “You eat a lot of Doritos.”

“Doritos, Pop Rocks, and Energy drinks,” Arthur pipes.  “Anything to keep me running when the headlamps are blazing.”  He looks under the table.  “Mystery, are you seriously licking the floor.  Gross.”  He stops the waiter and gets a fresh mug of coffee, before slipping it under the table.  “Careful, it’s hot.  Want sugar?”  There’s a bark.  “One or two?”  Three barks.  “Humming bird.”

Vivi paused in writing to watch Arthur and smirked.  “When he’s bouncing off the walls, I’ll remember this,” she warns.

“Lew can handle him.”  Arthur’s smirk faded.  He put some creamer into his own coffee and sipped.  “And the case?”

“Right,” Vivi took a breath.  She scrolled up reading through the historical document.  “No mention of the death, though there were a lot of accidents reported.  Then, the former owner passed away.  Hmm.”  She scanned through the font.  “‘Faulty equipment… Inability to acquire new equipment following The Stock Market crash of twenty-nine.’  Rough stuff.”

“A lot of businesses went bankrupt,” Arthur said.  “A lot of the owners couldn’t deal with it.  Does it say how the factory owner died?”

Vivi took a moment to write a few more notes in her notebook, before she answered, “It just says natural causes.”  She finishes copying down the addresses and sketches out a quick map on the next page.  “There’s not too many, most our time will probably be spent driving around until we find the right relations.  That’s IF the spirit was being honest.” 

“I should hang back with the van, while you guys go harass people in their homes,” Arthur says.  He reaches under the table and brings back up the empty coffee mug.  “That way when you guys get arrested for trespassing, I can bail you out.”

“It won’t come to that,” Vivi said.  She turned to look out the window and noticed the sun had risen higher above the distant rooftops during breakfast.  “As long as they’re not weirded about random strangers visiting out of the blue.” 

Arthur says, “Pot.  Kettle.  Black.”  Vivi throws a crumpled up napkin at him, which Arthur catches and sets aside. 

“I’ll go see if I can find Lewis,” Vivi says, as she tucks the beaten up spiral notebook into her backpack.  She takes up the half eaten biscuit and finishes it off.  “Want anything else?”

“I’m good.”  Arthur scoots over as Mystery clambers up, claws scratching at the plastic seat.  Arthur reaches over the table and pulls the laptop around and shuffles some of the plates and begins organizing the mess on the table.  “Here’s the keys,” he says, and holds up the ring with the boo charm on it.  “In case.”  He doesn’t let go of the keys when Vivi grabs them, and only looks up at her from under his thick eyebrows.

“He can’t just keep running away from us,” Vivi murmurs.  Arthur doesn’t comment, but releases the keys.  Vivi grabs her backpack and slings it over her shoulder as she walks off.  She looks to the other side of the diner, toward the half that is gift curious and jewelry but with Lewis stature it should be impossible to miss him.  There was clothing and coats at the furthest back, but she could still see the wood panels of the stores rustic backside.

At the counter within the midpoint of the diner, across from the glass door entrance, Vivi gives pause and waits for the cashier to finish with her customers.  When the family disperses around Vivi, she steps forward to the cashier.  “How was your meal?” the darker woman asks and smiles.

Vivi returns the gesture, her eyes still scanning behind the cashier should Lewis materialize (literally) out of nowhere.  “Splendiful, thank you.  Hey listen, I’m wondering if you’d see my friend lingering around here?” she says.  “Grizzly-tall guy, poof hair, purple sweater.”  The woman begins to shake her head and frowns a bit.  “He’s wearing these big, dorky ass sunglasses.”

“Oh!  Yeah,” the cashier said, with a grin.  She motions over her shoulder with her thumb.  “Guys in the back doing dishes.”

Vivi scowls.  “WHAT?”

Lewis is in the back doing dishes. 

For everything of him he couldn’t remember the last time he had done dishes.  Probably when he was still working for his family at Peppers Paradise, either cooking or doing the dishes.  Sometimes he preferred doing one over the other.  If he was feeling invigorated and playful he had the urge to create, to bring simple ingredients together into zesty splendor; sometimes experimenting with the ingredients of the dishes his Mamma and Pappa had spent years mastering.  Some free reign ambition was good, other times… well, Lewis and friends didn’t mind eating his creations.

Dishes were simple, dishes were autopilot.  He’d been doing dishwashing so long he didn’t need to think, he could let his mind wander off.  Go back a few years, reunite with simpler times though they may be lost. 

Water gushed, steam hissed.  Lewis scrubbed at the rock like crust of black, scouring the inside of pots forgotten too long on the stove with the hard scrubber.  If the task was impossible he’d fill the dish with hot water and some degreaser, then leave it be moment while he slid off.  The floor was slick enough he could get away with it, as he’d seen another kitchen aid skidding by on his own black heels a moment before.  Luckily, everyone’s eyes were elsewhere or they might’ve caught the hot pink sparks leaving scorch marks on the tile.

He moved further down the sink line, to the smaller pots and sauce pans in the deep basin.  An apron was tied to his front over his sweater, the sweater sleeves rolled up his forearms, and a pair of thick gloves were pulled up to wrap snug over the bundled ends.  He turned the heavy tap on and let water cascade into the deep sink and put a dab of the degreaser in, he skids over and put a little more in the large pot for good measure and skid back.  He took the rag and scrapped off the stains of food, scrubbed the pot clean and rinsed it then slid it down the stainless steel ramp to the next kitchen aid drying off the pots for the cooks.

The water practically boiled around his arms, but it was hard to tell with the thick suds.  He raises up an aggravating knife with a stubborn crust of something on it, and examined the sharp blade as it glint under the harsh phosphorus light.

“Knife coming down,” Lewis called, and slid the blade towards the dryer.  Soon there were stacks of plates, mugs, plastic cups rolling down the glistening wet ramp.

“Give me a sec, Lew,” the dryer called.  The dryer finished buffing two plates and set them into wire rimmed slots in a cart at his back.  While on pause, Lewis let the water drain out and rinsed the deep sink. 

“We’re short on pots.”  One of the cooks, dressed in a white uniform, approached Lewis.  “I’ll dry’em, don’t worry about it.”  The chef adjusted a towel laid over his forearm.

“How many?  What kind?”  Lewis was already pulling a few of the smaller pots from the stack and dunked them into the steaming bubbles.

“Two,” the cook answered.  “Lids too.  And three ladles.”  He rubbed at his brow with the inner side of his shoulder as Lewis scrubbed and rinsed.  He held open the towel as Lewis handed over the pots, plus lids, and spoons. 

“Got them?” Lewis asked, as he stuck the ladles into the pots open top.

“Yep, thanks,” the chef said.  He began pawing at the dishes between the towels.  “Whoo.  Hot, hot.  These are scalding.  Don’t your hands burn?”

Lewis shrugged as he turned back to the deep sink.  “Nope,” he chimes.  “I’ll turn the taps temp down, though.”  He freezes when the door across from him sweeps open and in charges Vivi.

“Lew—” Vivi’s words cut off when the sunglasses drop off his face and hit the floor, one of the lens pops out and skips up under one of the stainless steel counters.  “Oh shit!”  Vivi fidgets around as if trying to pick up a wild, spewing bottle of soda but uncertain how to do this feat without getting her clothing all wet and stained.

“I’m sorry, blueberry,” Lewis begins, holding up his slick gloved hands.  “You were eating, and I was going to—” He emits a brief but loud shriek, when Vivi jerks him down by the collar of his suit.  The lights in the kitchen flicker and dim causing the nearest of the kitchen aids to pause and look up, after a short sputter the lights brighten without problem.  “What?  What now?”  Lewis stares as Vivi jerks her sweater off over her head.  Underneath the sweater Vivi always wore a darker blue T-shirt that matched her skirt, but she preferred the extra comfort of the sweater.  Lewis doesn’t get out another sound before Vivi shoves the puffy sweater down over his face and she begins shoving him toward the swinging doors.

“Your face, Lew.  Your face,” Vivi hisses into his back.

“Ah.”  Lewis puts his hands up and pushes the doors away as he’s herded out.  A voice calls from the side, and he detects a presence hurry at them.

“I’m very sorry,” Vivi says around Lewis shoulder, her voice strained.  She pauses in the entry of the swinging doors as the taller man stares at them from the kitchens interior, between her and Lewis but mostly at Lewis with the sweater sagged around his face.  “He’s got… a bad nose bleed,” Vivi said, and kept going with the evasion, nodding.  “He gets them sometimes.  I gotta get him outside, get him some fresh air.”

“O… kay,” the older man said, staring with confusion.  Lewis thought he sounded like a compact version of his father.  “I’ll just need the gloves back, and the apron.  Also, I wanted to let you know we took some of your bill off, since he was doing the dishes.  It’s only fair.”  He nods.

“Right, um, thank you.”  Vivi pulls on Lewis sleeves and turns him away from – who she suspects could be the manager, or assistant manager.  Vivi slips off the rubber gloves and pulls the damp sweater down over Lewis’ suit.  She tugs at the apron, until Vivi finds the one cord at Lewis’ back that undoes the elegant little tight knot.  Vivi slaps Lewis hands away when he tries to help take off the apron, and instead he leans forward to allow Vivi the range to pull the aprons loop off from over his sweater garbed head.  Lewis doesn’t realize how fortunate he is that Vivi’s hands are full, otherwise she’d punch him.  “Really, thank you.  I’m so sorry about this.”

The kitchen aid waves her off.  “It’s no prob, nose bleeds suck,” he says, taking the gloves and apron.  “He’s really good at this gig.  I hope you’ll come by again before you head out.”

“Yes!  Most def.  C’mon Lew, let’s get you some napkins.”  Vivi pulls Lewis by his cuffs, guiding him out into the main interior of gift store.  She guides him around the few aisles and finds the little exercise is much easier than what it would be, if Lewis was just any other person.  The cashier watches them from the counter island in the center of the store, but says nothing as Vivi guides Lewis towards towards the glass doors of the restaurants entrance. 

People are still coming in, and too many stop to stare as she hauls Lewis out.  Vivi turns to the diner’s interior, scanning along the many large windows that face the parking lot and catches Arthur’s gaze as he looks up from the laptop in front of him.  Seated beside Arthur, Mystery catches his movement and looks up as well.  Arthur slants his eyes and makes a vague gesture with his good arm, twirling his hand at the wrist.  Vivi frowns and shakes her head, she gestures back with a sort of cutting motion and points out the door.  She has only a slight hint to what Arthur had signed, but he probably already gathered up the sum of what occurred in the kitchen.

It took a little longer than it normally would for Lewis to get his bearings together and pull on his Alive appearance.  Vivi had waited outside the doors of the van, as he sat in the back soundless and weightless.  For the duration Vivi would watch people walk by on the sidewalk across the parking lot.  The van was parked with its back facing the crumbling old wall of the restaurants side, and she felt confident no one would get close enough to the front of the van to make out the curious movement within through the large windshield.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” she began, when she heard Lewis creep out onto the back bumper.  It was tricky to tell, but she was getting accustomed to his airless movements.  “I panicked, but I guess I shouldn’t have.  You have to be more careful, though.”  She turned to the open door where Lewis now stood, dark eyes with the bright glimmer in their depths staring at her dubiously.  “You gotta work on not getting surprised when something random happens, or work on recovering faster.”

Lewis sort of frowned, his nose wrinkling in a way that seemed natural.  “It’s not as easy as I’m making it out to be, y’know,” he says.  “It’s not like there’s a little switch in me and when I feel like it, I flip it and change the way I look.”

Vivi sighed.  “I know.  I’m scared, that’s all.  But I’m not sure how—” She stopped and looked away as if something had caught her attention.  “I worry about you,” Vivi says.  “I worry about you, and I don’t want to worry about something taking you from us.”

“Mi arandano,” Lewis hummed.  He stepped over to Vivi and put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.  “I think I’m far beyond that threshold of being taken by someone else.”

Vivi kept silent for a moment, her arms curled up and pressed back into Lewis’ sleeves.  She listened to the distance traffic on the roads, and somewhere else the muffled patter of the locket Lewis carried.  A frail breeze crooned over the hard concrete and Vivi took a deep breath, taking in the thick scent of the earthy weeds growing between the cracks in the cement along the road, and the old oil baking on the asphalt.  There was… an unfamiliar scent to her long travels, something foreign to the countless roads and parking lots she had visited throughout the states.  The aroma was somewhat sweet and fresh, like after shower rains in a forest.  Or is it more electrical, like a thunderstorm charging across the untamed plains of the open desert?  She takes a tentative breath.  It was so pleasant and out of place, under the rash bake of the warm sun on cool pavement.  She leaned over and sniffed at Lewis sleeve.  That was it.  It was Lewis.

“What kind of soap were you using?” Vivi asked, as she pressed her nose into his sweater.  “On the dishes?”

Lewis looked away from a family that was walking by on the nearby sidewalk, towards the restaurants front.  “Just the usual industrial lemony-antibacterial stuff,” he said, distracted.  “I never really noticed it, I guess.”  He glanced over as the family entered through the glass doors.

“Hmm.”  Vivi could remember Lewis just drenched in the stuff from long hours in kitchen, on the late evening when he was washing the endless cycle of dishes that lay siege on the kitchen.  That was his smell when they were younger and while they were home, and she grew to like it.  That was not what he smelled like now.  But this was nice, whatever it was.  Vivi took one last deep breath of his sweater.  “You smell really nice,” she said, and stepped away from him.

Lewis stood there, arms open.  “Thanks?”

Vivi made her way around back to the front doors of the diner.  “I have to pay the bill,” she called back.  “And I’ll get you some new glasses from the gift shop.”

“Make sure they’re fashionable,” he hails after her.  “And purple!”

#msa #msa fanfic #mystery skulls animated #msa lewis #msa vivi #msa arthur #msa fanfiction #msa mystery #mystery skulls fanfiction #mystery skulls fanfic

[darlingpetao3]

Seducing the Gem (Nash Wells x Reader, Chapter 7/9)

Rating: M (Smut in Chapter 6 only)

Summary: When a mysterious package shows up at your front door, you (a famous Romance novelist) are hurtled from your virtually uneventful life and into one of danger and adventure. In a quest to save your captured friend Caitlin from impending harm, you run into a suave adventurer named Nash who helps you along the way. Or is the charming Nash simply after something in your possession…?

Tag List: @tardis-23​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @the-marvelatic​ @itsprongs​

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

“We don’t know how we could ever repay you for your kindness,” you tell the lovely couple the next morning on their porch.

“Anything to help,” John replies kindly.

“Just remember to write! I would love to hear from you,” Mary adds happily. “And thank you for signing my book!”

“I will, I promise. And you are so welcome.” When you go to hug both of them, you hear a motor rev as Nash appears from around the back of the house in John’s old Jeep. It looks to be in pretty rough shape, but honestly, it’s better than nothing at this point.

“Hop in, Princess,” Nash says with a grin. “Your chariot awaits!”

“Good luck to you both!” the two call out to you once you take a seat in the passenger side of the vehicle. You wave goodbye to them and buckle your seatbelt, but an approaching rumble makes your heart stop beating. You glance into the rearview mirror, then turn all the way around in your seat.

An envoy of trucks drives into the village from the other end - they have to be Wade and his men. Can’t they just disappear already?!

“Nash, drive,” you order him. “But not too fast. Do it casually. Like you’re not trying to flee an army of men.”

“You got it.”

It must take everything in him not to peel out and press the pedal to the floor, but you imagine Nash has been in stickier situations than this. As you both drive down the road, leaving the village behind, Nash soon picks up speed. You open your bag and retrieve the GPS to turn it on - the little light that shows your location blinks on the holographic map and moves at a swift pace. The further Nash carries on, the closer your dot gets to the stationary one - the treasure. The piece of tech beeps as you approach a rough-looking turn off on the road.

“I think it wants us to turn right,” you note. Nash leans over and peers at the map.

“Right here is the geographical makeup of a waterfall,” he points to a section on the hologram. “I think you’re right. It should be just up here. Good eye, Princess.”

Your heart flutters at his praise. Nash turns the steering wheel sharply to make the right turn, and about half an hour later, you hear the unmistakable roar of water.

“Wow,” you remark, getting out of the car. “What a view.” The streams of water tumble over the cliff above into a deep blue pool, which then flows out to continue downriver. You aren’t sure at first how this can possibly be the right way to the treasure, but when Nash takes your hand to lead the way, you have so much more faith that it’s right.

The pair of you keep close to the rock face, and soon you begin to see a stepping stone path hidden behind the falls.

This is so freaking cool. It’s like I’m inside one of my novels!

The noise of the water is incredibly loud at this point, so when Nash says something to you, you don’t hear him.

“What?!” you shout, but slip on the slick rock underfoot. The adventurer holds tight to your forearms - keeping you up effortlessly. You notice the merriment in his eyes.

“I said, ‘Watch your step,’ Princess!”

Where would you be without him?

Eventually, you reach an opening directly behind the tumbling water that leads into a cave. With the final bit of battery left on your phone (a miracle, really), you use its flashlight again to help you on your way through the dim and damp grotto. Falling droplets of water echo through the small cavern, giving off a slightly eerie effect. Nash holds the device and watches the hologram blink furiously as your yellow dot and the red dot of the supposed treasure converge.

“It says it should be right about… here?” he says, motioning to this dead end.

“A rock wall? But that can’t be right…”

We’ve made it all the way here and there’s just A WALL??

Groaning loudly, you add in a huff here and there at having come up short after all this trouble. Seriously? After all that you’d been through? You pound the wall against your better judgement. It hurts, to say the least.

But wait.

A piece of rock is loose.

“What’s this?” you look to Nash, then back at the cave wall. After wiggling the rock, you let it fall to the ground and begin digging out the remaining debris within the hole.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you exhale breathlessly.

“What?”

“Digging for treasure.”

“Welcome to my world, Princess,” Nash grins like the sun. There’s a pause where you lock eyes, and in this moment, you couldn’t imagine anything more exhilarating.

“Nash?”

“Yes?”

“You’re the best time I’ve ever had.”

He looks pleasantly taken aback. “I’ve never been anybody’s best time before.”

You both smile, and you return to digging frantically until you feel something soft. Your hand reaches into the back of the hole to pull out... a fabric doll.

“It’s a doll?” he says, wholly confused when you hand it to him to survey. “Someone must have been here before us…”

It takes a moment before a realization hits you. “No, wait. In my fourth book, Off the Coast of Love, I hid the treasure inside a decoy object. Here, give it to me.”

“I thought I did,” Nash replies cheekily while nudging your shoulder with his, playing the innuendo card.

You’re suddenly glad it’s dark in here, or else he’d see your flushing face. But, when you take the doll back and rip a seam at its heart - a glowing red aura shines out and turns both your faces the same colour.

It’s the treasure!

I did it!

“It’s amazing,” you admire the shiny, crimson gemstone in your hands.

“It’s beautiful,” Nash agrees but stares at you instead.

“It’s mine, now,” comes a third, unexpected voice.

You give a start upon seeing a very large, bald, and scary man standing behind you. You wonder why he feels vaguely familiar to you, but that thought quickly disappears when the man points a gun into the air and shoots actual fire from the barrel.

Then, he points it at you.

“Is there anybody who isn’t following you?” Nash asks you, ignoring the frightening flame-wielding man.

“Hand over the rock and no one gets turned into a shish kebab…” the dangerous stranger says in a gruff voice. “Now move it, before Batman comes home! I don’t got all day, and neither does your doctor friend!”

***

You feel defeated and hopeless after this man - Mick Rory, as he introduced himself on the forced return to the Jeep - pockets the ruby red gemstone from you.

“You’ve sent me on a wild goose chase girly,” he claims. “If you just stayed put at the airport and didn’t get in the truck with that General bastard, you’d be on your way home with your feisty lady pal.” Mick grabs your arm with no care for your well-being.

“Ow, hey!” you protest.

“Hey, back off, creep, alright?” Nash growls, daring to take a step closer towards this scary-ass criminal. “Keep your hands off her.”

“Oh, I’m the creep? That’s rich, Indiana. At least I’m upfront about what I’m taking. At least I’m not trying to seduce the damn gem out from under her.”

What did he just say?

“Wait a second,” you say, “finally deciding to search for the treasure was my idea.”

It was, wasn’t it?

“Ahaha!” Mick laughs with a monotone voice. “Yeah, lady, that’s what all the con artists want you to think! He made you think you needed it! He might actually run well with us Rogues.”

Nash wouldn’t really try to trick you into going after the stone, would he? He said it was “treasure” when he mentioned that was the area where he was initially headed. But Nash was also looking for a magic stone for his research. Wait, did he know the treasure and his stone were the same thing? Was he going to con you out of your bargaining chip for Caitlin by seducing you?

How well do you really know this man?

Mick shoves the flamethrower gun into Nash’s back. “Get in the front and drive. I’m sick of- oh, shit.”

You follow the crook’s gaze down the road from which you came, and wouldn’t you know it…

“I just can’t catch a break,” you mumble while dragging a hand down your face and proceed to curse wildly in your head. They’ve found you yet again - Wade’s fleet - but how did they know to follow you from the right turn-off? Mick turns to run, fleeing with the gem, surely because there’s no way his face-melting gun could take on this size of this envoy.

“Get in!” you shove Nash out of the way and take control of the driver’s seat. You’re still pissed at him for the possibility of backstabbing you, but your current crisis is more important. You don’t even wait for him to close his passenger side door and peel out to follow Mick further down the road.

“Step on it!” Nash yells. Soon, you’re driving right up next to the thief, and Nash tells you, “Pull up ahead of him a bit. When I say, ‘Now,’ I want you to break hard, got it?”

You nod and do as he said, making sure the Jeep is driving just ahead of Mick, and wait for the magic word.

“Now!”

 Your foot slams on the break. Nash whips open his door and Mick runs straight into it. You can’t help but make an ‘Oof’ sound at the brutal hit. Your partner jumps out of the car and pins the other man to the ground, wrenching the stone out of his big, monstrous grasp.

“I’ll take that,” he says, then hops back in the vehicle and slaps the side of the door. “Go, go, go!”

You take off at an insane speed through the forest road, but once you reach a certain miles per hour, it’s hardly even noticeable - all a blur.

“Princess, you better slow down,” Nash warns you.

You don’t reply, nor do you take your foot off the accelerator.

“Princess?”

Eyes on the road. Don’t listen to him.

“(Y/N)! Slow! Down!”

As it happens, you should have indeed listened to Nash. You couldn’t see past your anger and adrenaline, so naturally, you didn’t anticipate the sudden end to the road, and where it was washed out from the rushing river.

You swear repeatedly and brace yourself when the car drives straight into the rapids, water washing over the windshield. The inside of the vehicle is already starting to fill up with water, which causes you to panic.

Seatbelt off, open window, escape, escape.

Your whole body feels as if it’s on autopilot as you try to exit the river-swept car. The second you manage to pull yourself out from the window, the swift current takes hold of you. You’re sure Nash got out too, though you don’t see him. Trying to keep your head above water takes priority.

“Nash!” you shout for the adventurer despite your current confused and angry feelings towards him.

There’s a huge rock up ahead, up and off to the side. You use every amount of power in you to try to reach it, and thank goodness, you do, and cling to it for dear life. Shimmying and clinging, you move sideways, and make it to safety on the river bank.

But where’s Nash?

Had he been swept away? Drowned? Eaten by a river monster?

“Princess!” comes his voice, sounding distant. You search and spot him across from you on the other side of the river. “That was amazing, right?! Woooo!”

You don’t answer, and just stare at him with the bright red stone right there in his hand. Your head is still reeling about Nash. Your heart rate continues to spike through the roof. He must notice your quietness. “Are you okay?” he calls out.

“Oh yeah,” you finally reply, “I’m just FINE!”

“From what I know about women, I don’t think that really means you’re fine!”

“Oh, right, because you seduce so many women for a living to get what you want!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” he shouts back.

“You planned this all along, didn’t you?! You tried to get close to me - to have sex with me - to use the GPS and take the stone for yourself!”

There’s a pause. Only the sound of rushing water fills the void.

“What’s the name of that hotel in Kinshasa?” he asks.

“Pullman Kinshasa Grand Hotel!” you tell him. “Why do you even care?”

“Just keep heading east, that way, and I’ll be there!” he promises.

“Yeah, sure! While you just disappear forever with the stone! What about Caitlin?!”

“You still have the GPS!” Nash points out.

“Yeah, but you have the stone! They’ll know!” Your stomach jumps up into your throat at the sound of gunshots. Goddammit!

Nash hollers something else across the rapids, but you couldn’t quite hear all of it.

“What?!” But by the time you’ve yelled your question, the adventurer has already turned his back to you and sprints in the opposite direction.

Something inside tells you that you’ve just been conned.

#reader insert #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells fanfiction #nash wells x reader #nash wells imagine #harrison nash wells x reader #the flash imagine #the flash fanfiction