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existential-angstt · 3 years

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I’m here for the cult stuff? // Shane “Dio” Morrissey x Reader

Warnings: SMUT (kinda light smut if I’m honest :/ ), fucking outside / in public, cult stuff? not sure what else I need to say xD

After the church incident, you started hanging around Dio a whole lot more and of course the two of you started dating. He introduced you to his friends, many of whom scoffed a little at you but after a sharp look from their dark overlord softened up and tried to be as welcoming as they could. Once they got to know you a little better of course, you all found things in common and they started treating you like one of their own, some of them even saying hello to you on campus or first bumping you and earning you stares from the normies.

Your friends heard all about it of course and immediately acted disgusted but once it became apparent you weren’t dropping this, they did their best to adjust and try to find things to like about Dio. Of course it wasn’t important to you if they didn’t like him- they didn’t have to. What mattered was you liked him.

He’d escort you to classes with an arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders or waist, acting like he couldn’t function without a hand on you in some way. You liked to hook your hand in his belt loop under his coat, the two of you walking in step and talking about deeper meanings in Edgar Allen Poe’s stories or how you’d get away with murder, those sorts of things. You started dressing in darker colors at his urging, started to look more like the kind of person who would date someone like Dio. But even after all the steps you took to incorporate him into your life, you still had yet to infiltrate his so-called “cult”.

Whenever you came to see him in the basement of Miller, any and all cult talk ceased and everyone acted friendly and light, but you knew as soon as you headed out for your next class the business would resume without you. You hadn’t directly told Dio that you wanted to be involved… you had said, however, that whatever was important to him was important to you, hoping he’d get the message and invite you into the “inner circle”, but alas, there were still a few nights every week he’d kiss you after dinner and disappear until the wee hours of the morning, when he’d come home reeking of incense and other things.

You hoped to- well, you hoped to something he wasn’t sacrificing animals in the woods, but you were pretty sure that was a little off the wall-- after all, you’d seen how he got around kittens. For all his pomp and circumstance, you seriously doubted that man could hurt a small animal of any kind for any reason.

So one night when he climbed into bed around 2 in the morning, as you stirred and snuggled into his chest you brought it up. “D?” you mumbled sleepily.

“Hmm? Didn’t realize you were awake, pet,” he said, pulling you close and sighing deeply. “What is it?”

“Can I come to a cult thingie? A meeting?” you said into his chest, running your hand up his back, tracing the indentions of his spine under his skin. He paused, silent, as though considering.

“I don’t know if you’d like it much,” he said finally, dodging.

“Dio-” you groaned.

“I know, little one, I know, what’s important to me is important to you,” he rumbled, pausing again. “I suppose… if you really wanted to…. The best time to come is tomorrow night. It’s a blood moon, and we’re having a special ritual for it,” he replied, stroking your hair. He let out a short chuckle and added, “You wouldn’t wanna be the sacrifice, would you?” You opened one eye against his chest, watching the faint moonlight slipping into the room and tracing the edges of your boyfriend’s form on the bed beside you.

“What would that entail?” you said, suddenly much more awake, your heartbeat thrumming away. He did that rumble laugh again, the vibration rocking through you as he held you and stroked your hair, tugging on it softly.

“Nothing too serious… just laying on an altar, letting us pray over you.... Some ritualistic blood spilling… nothing you’re not used to already…,” he said, his hand sliding down to grip your hip to trace one of the faint scars from your adventures in knifeplay. You shivered, feeling yourself get turned on despite still being half asleep. You wriggled under his hand, not wanting to wake yourself up too much.

“Yeah, I’ll do it, D. I wanna be part of it. For you…,” you mumbled, trailing soft kisses up his chest.

“Oh, sweet girl. That means a lot,” he murmured, sinking his face into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply and kissing the soft flesh there, licking and softly sucking a hickey into your throat.

“‘Kay, horndog, go to sleep. Need sleep if ‘m gonna be a sacrifice for you,” you said, tugging softly on the hair at the base of his neck. He chuckled again and stopped his games, simply holding you close until you both passed out.

__________________

Dio didn’t elaborate at all on what you’d agreed to, simply telling you to meet him outside Miller at 10 pm. He wasn’t going to be around all evening-- he said he needed to “take care of some things” and “prepare”, whatever that meant. You texted him and asked him what to wear around dinner time and his only reply was “black dress”. There was only one dress he could be referring to of course- a floor length lace and tulle number you’d bought recently that you had absolutely nowhere to wear it to. Fitting, for a sacrifice, you figured.

You slithered into the dress and did your makeup, going bold with lots of dark red eyeshadow that made your eyes pop and black eyeliner. Waiting was the worst part-- sitting on the couch, all dressed up for some fun cult activity, all alone without him…

Finally you could wait no longer and you shrugged on his long leather coat, which he’d left in your apartment (weird, but handy at this moment) and descended the steps down to your car.

The closest place you could park to Miller Hall was still a bit of a walk, and you were dressed for a party, so your heart was racing the entire time you were walking from the car to the building. You gripped his coat around you as though it would protect you as well as he could himself. The campus was empty, haunting-- everything was well lit, of course. After all, it was a college campus-- but that didn’t stop the feeling of foreboding creeping through your veins.

You walked fast, a fistful of your dress in one hand to keep you from tripping and your other hand holding Dio’s jacket closed over your chest. You rounded a corner of the building next to Miller Hall and ran squarely into a stranger.

“Woah- hey there, pretty lady, where you going so late?” said a voice. You looked up, eyes wide as you stumbled backwards. You couldn’t see his face-- he was directly under one of the lamps lighting the walkway so his face was cast in shadow, but he was big and you didn’t like the way he was looking at you. You could see his teeth glinting in the dimness his face was cast in. He took a few steps towards you as you tracked backwards, the urge to run getting stronger. “Hey, wait, don’t go anywhere- you’re dressed for a party,” he said, stalking towards you now. You realized with a start the jacket had fallen open, revealing your dress. You started reaching desperately for the low pocket of Dio’s jacket, where you knew he kept a knife at all times, but you were shaking and still thinking about running.

Just as the stranger got to the edge of the building, a figure slid out of the shadows and stepped between the two of you, squaring up with the stranger. Whoever it was was just as tall as the opposing figure, and the stranger was clearly startled at the person’s appearance.

“You wanna rethink that, asshole?”

That was Dio’s voice- you stared at the two of them, still frozen in place. The stranger’s posture changed immediately. He went from opposing and overshadowing to something similar to what you were doing- pulling back, preparing to bolt. “Y-you’re-”

“Mmmhmm. Now, scurry, rat,” Dio growled, traces of satisfaction in his voice. The stranger needed no further urging; he spun around and continued on his way, grumbling but speedwalking down the lit walkway between buildings. Dio turned around, still cloaked in shadow and ran over to you. “Hey, hey- are you okay? Did he touch you?” he said softly, all trace of aggression gone as he patted you down looking for injuries and wrongdoings.

“D- Dio, I’m fine, I’m okay- I’m good,” you said, waving him off of you but taking his hand in yours tightly.

“Baby, you need to check your phone. I told you to stay at the car until I came to get you,” he said, his eyes flashing concernedly in the dimness.

“Dio, I’m fine, I’m fine. Now let’s go-” you said, picking up the skirt of your dress and still holding his hand.

“Okay, okay,” he said, looking back towards where the stranger had been and then at you. He paused, his eyes lingering on you. You couldn’t read his face in the darkness.

“What?”

“You… you look really pretty,” he said softly, still unmoving.

Taken aback, you blinked at him and then a soft smile came across your face.

“You like it?” you said, swishing your skirt around and doing a little twirl for him.

“You look perfect, little dove. Now come on,” he said, nodding up at the red full moon, “we’re gonna miss it.” He led you back down the walkway, his hand still in yours, the two of you hurrying around the corner and into Miller Hall with the covertness of teenagers breaking into a movie theater.

The usually well-lit hall was mostly dark with only some of the hazy yellow lights on, and the basement was even more so. Dio led you back down the stairs to where you’d first met him, back through the double doors and into the huge room that used to be the university pools. Everything was pitch black and it took your eyes a moment to adjust; only then did you realize there was a source of light. Down inside the indention in the floor where the pool used to be were about 20 of Dio’s followers, hooded and cloaked; you could recognize the main six of them in the center, all your friends.

You looked up at your boyfriend as he started gently pulling his own leather jacket from your shoulders. You shrugged out of it and he set it on the edge of the pool, taking you by the hand and leading you over to the stone steps that led into the concrete pit. You followed him down carefully, sure not to step on your skirt as you went down the steps.

Dio led you over to the group of darkly dressed individuals who all watched you expectantly. Once you got over there, you could see they’d set up a makeshift altar on a desk someone had brought down and candles flickered on the tabletop. There were symbols carved into the wood and flower petals were scattered everywhere, incense making the room heavy with aroma.

Dio motioned for you to kneel in front of the altar so you were eye level with it, and as you did, so did everyone else. Dio was the only one who stayed standing, still holding your hand and walking around the altar carefully. He glanced down at you, an unfamiliar glint in his eye, and then he looked around at everyone else. “Let’s begin.”

______________________________

Being a sacrifice was exactly what Dio had described. Basically, he began chanting in Latin and the others repeated what he said back to him, their voices echoing around the large chamber. After fifteen minutes of what was utter gibberish to you, Dio picked up a silvered dagger from the altar and dragged it across your palm, the red of your blood stark against your skin in the candlelight.

You gasped lightly and looked up at him, his deep brown irises glowing amber in orangey glow. He was smirking softly but his eyes were soft-- he was playing it up, keeping on that cult leader facade but still speaking to you silently with his eyes, saying things to you that only you could hear. You knew that even though he was still their god, that he was playing king to his little cult that he was all too human when he was looking at you now, silently searching every micro expression for any sign you wanted to stop.

You looked back at him calmly as he raised your open palm to the altar and turned it over, pressing it to the carved surface of the desk, right in the center of the arcane symbols. You didn’t make a sound when your hand touched the desk, didn’t even wince. His smirk grew slightly and you could feel the profound pride rolling off of him; still, it was perhaps something only you could see, could read in him.

Dio said one more phrase in Latin and the congregation repeated it, the sound echoing harshly in the concrete pit and meaning absolutely nothing to you. The illusion seemed to fall then; the stiffness of everyone’s forms dropped and the grouping of people thinned out as everyone started to leave. Many headed for the stairs at the far end of the pool, but some boosted themselves up on the concrete ledge. Whatever the case, they cleared out quickly, sweeping off in their cloaks to Hell knows where.

In moments it was just you and Dio and he was lifting your wounded hand gently off the altar, clutching it close as though it were his own injured hand. He produced a black silk cloth from one of his pockets and wrapped it around your hand, weaving it in between your fingers, meeting your eyes every so often as he did so. He tied a pretty knot in it, tightening the fabric against the cut and you finally let yourself show a sign of pain, your mouth twitching downwards, just for a second.

“Oh, little dove, you did so well,” he said, drawing you into his arms and holding you tightly, spinning you around. “So, so well…,” he hummed, pulling back to look at you in the dimness.

“Did… did I do all right?” you said, a little shaken by his change in demeanor.

“Of course you did, love, of course. You were-” he shook his head, “-perfect.” You blushed a little and smiled up at him as he stared down at you. At this angle his face was cast in darkness again and you couldn’t see it. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, taking your hands and guiding you towards the stairs quickly.

“W- where are we going, D?” you said, eyes widening. He hadn’t said-

“Gotta finish the ritual, dove,” he said darkly, still pulling you up the stairs and towards the double doors.

“But D, your coat-”

“We’ll come back before we go home, dove, now come on,” he hissed, tugging at you urgently. You shut your mouth finally, trusting him and hiking your skirt up in one hand to try to keep up with his hurried steps. He led you up the steps in the dark, so sure of his motions, so used to finding his way in and out of this building in the absence of light.

He didn’t move fast enough to trip you up-- he slowed when he could sense you having trouble, and he held the door open as the two of you burst out into the cool night air, the crickets singing and your panting breaths the only other sounds.

“What-” you started but he grabbed you and kissed you deeply, surprising you. You leaned into it, grabbing his hips to steady yourself and kissed him softly, basking in him.

“Come on,” he whispered, keeping his face close to yours as though he were fighting himself to keep his mouth off yours. He took your hand in his again and led you around the shadowy side of the building, meaning you had to rely on him to guide you down the stone path.

The two of you hurried through the night, weaving in and out of buildings, using the light of the orangey moon to find your way. It wasn’t long for you to figure out where he was taking you-- there was only one place he could be going. “Dio-”

“Hush, dove.”

You found yourselves in the campus gardens, full of hedges and delicate blooms and sweet scents that could be accessed via stone pathways that circled ponds and a small white gazebo. Once you were in the gardens, Dio seemed to relax a little, to slow down as he looked up at the swollen moon.

“D, what are we doing here?” you said softly, following him over to the entrance of the gazebo. Your boyfriend turned back to look at you, taking both of your hands in his and backing up into the gazebo, pulling you after him.

“Gonna finish the ritual, dove. Gotta… consummate it,” Dio said, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips.

“Dio-” you gasped a little.

“Shh, little dove. You’re safe. Why don’t we… invoke something?” he said and then his mouth was on yours. You moaned into him a little bit and his grip on you tightened, your dress riding up a few inches. Dio slipped his tongue into your mouth, hot and wanting, as he backed you up against the rail of the gazebo, the wood digging into your lower back. You brought a hand up to grab his hair at the base of his neck, tugging, as his mouth trailed away from yours and across your jaw.

“Dio-”

“Shhh”

Dio trailed kisses down your neck, sucking marks into your throat as his hands worked their way upwards to your chest, grabbing and kneeding gently. You felt him draw you into him, his face buried in your collarbone as his hands made their way to the back of your dress, pulling at your zipper.

“D- Dio-” you stammered, tugging at his hair sharply.

He looked up, breathing heavily, his eyes glimmering in the half light. You stared at each other, transfixed, and you felt him slowly pull down the zipper of your dress, the material sliding down your shoulders and hitting the wooden floor of the gazebo. You blinked at him in the half light, now in your under things and his eyes roved over your body slowly, his tongue swiping across his lower lip.

Your breath hitched and his hands settled on your hips again, his face turned down towards yours and his hot breath hitting your face. “Please let me take you, little dove. Right here, under the moon. Do it for me, please,” he murmured, kissing up your neck, his raven black hair glossy under the moonlight. You let a moan escape your lips and rested your hands on his chest, pressing into him.

Dio slid his hands down to your ass and picked you up, turning you both around and setting you down on the floor, laying you out and climbing on top of you. You felt him grind down against your hips as he kissed you, his arms caging you in. It was no time before he was pushing your bra up and nibbling at your nipples, kissing and sucking and squeezing your tits more softly than was usual for him.

“D- Dio, we- we’re outside, anyone c-”

He silenced you with another glance up at your eyes, not saying anything but communicating all he needed to. Wasn’t like you two hadn’t fucked in public before-

His mouth came back up to yours, kissing you again and pulling your bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down hard enough to make you cry out. You reached up to grab at his hips, following the edge of his pants to find his zipper and pull at it, unbuttoning and button and sliding them down his hips. You felt him smirk against you and heard his breathy laugh but he didn’t stop you and seconds later he was as exposed as you were and you had him in your hands. You gave him a few slow pumps, making him tense up and moan noisily-- that was when he reached down to pry your hands away, to take back control.

You gasped as he slid into you, all of the sounds of the night suddenly seeming so much louder, every animal noise just a bystander in danger of finding you two, in the middle of the gardens-

He let out a low groan and you whimpered at the beautiful sound. “F- fuck, Dio- s- so pretty,” you mumbled, gripping his shoulders. He murmured something and you said, “W-what?”

“N-not the p-pretty one, dove.”

Your eyes widened a little at the compliment and you bucked your hips up a little as he started moving so torturously slowly, thrusting in and out of you like he had all the time in the world. “Dio,” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Patience, little dove, be patient,” he said, reaching up to trail his thumb across your jaw. Gradually he started moving faster and you thrust your own hips upwards to meet him, grabbing at his hair and pulling him back down to your mouth so you could kiss him again.

It was definitely the most intense time you’d ever had with Dio (since the church, at least). The perfumes of the different flowers were heavy in your nose and the humidity was drenching you both in a sheen of sweat. The moon hung over the two of you, the roof of the gazebo keeping out most of the light but the rest of the orangey glow illuminating the gardens around you.

“Mine… all… mine, little dove,” he mumbled, kissing your chest and circling your clit with a thumb.

“Y-yours, please, Dio-”

He growled and fucked you harder, speeding up his assault on your clit. You moaned loudly, no longer caring who saw you, who caught the two of you doing this-

“F- Dio, I’m g- gonna-” you whimpered.

Dio chanted something in Latin, very quickly and very softly, so soft you could barely here it, as though he were begging for you to cum for him, praying for it, and with a shout you did. He didn’t stop the Latin after you came, only ceasing once he had, still murmuring meaningless phrases as he collapsed on top of you, panting and kissing you softly.

“Little dove…. Thank you, thank you-” he was saying, pressing his lips to your skin over and over. You trembled and pulled him close, wrapping your whole body around his. Once you were both able to stand, Dio helped you back into your dress and the two of you started walking back to your car in the darkness. He stepped off the path for just a moment and made a quick grabbing motion at one of the bushes and when he turned back to you, he held a pure black lily in his hand, offering it to you. You sighed shakily and took it, inhaling deeply.

“Dio?” you said, tracing the petals with your fingers and taking his hand in your other one.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“‘Love you too, lil dove.”

#NYPD Blue #Pedro Pascal #shane dio morrissey #dio x reader #dio morrissey x reader #dio morrissey #shane dio morrissey x reader

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becausenoothernameisavailable · 4 years

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Winter Olympics AU.

Day 5. No Dalton AU Dalton Academy never existed. So where do our characters end up? Do some of them know each other anyway? Maybe they ended up in public schools, maybe they would never meet at all. Tell or show us what happens if Dalton Academy had never been built.

They meet at the Olympics of course.

“And now we have TEAM USA led by the defending Olympic Champion Blaine Anderson”

As the announcer continued to speak about Blaine Anderson and size of the Team USA, Logan sighed and carefully made his way down the icy cold arena surrounded by his teammates, his rivals, his friends, all wrapped up in their heavy matching jacket, gloves, mittens and boots as they smiled and cheered and waved at the gathered spectators.

He was here to win. Gold, his dad promised to everyone at to the press conference announcing the team representing the USA in the 2022 Olympics.

“So, you’re not sad that it’s not you out there?” Logan looked up to find his best friend Derek gesturing to the front at Blaine; mitten gloved and beaming as he slowly carried their country flag, waving it carefully and smiling as he led the team.

“No.” he sighed remembering the awful situation that was his dad who finally realized that his son’s fooling around was an actual Olympic sport and could be spun around to boost his campaign that he gunned for Logan to be the flag bearer. Luckily, Logan got to his dad first before he could talk to concerned people and convince him that he needed to focus on his jumps, otherwise, that would have been a disaster waiting to happen. There was already talk about favouritism and politics involved thanks to his dad but Logan won the national trials by fair and square and by a large margin. There were no doubts involved he was good, but now he needed to prove just how good he actually was.

“No, Blaine deserved it, he did win gold in the last Olympics. There was no way they would replace him with me.”

“Then it’s all cool with you.” Derek asked as he watched his best friend, “And him.” They both gave up the pretence of waving and were walking side by side, camouflaged by the sheer size of the US Winter Olympics team.

“Yeah.” Logan nodded and watched his ex who was now glancing at his boyfriend Kurt Hummel – US team Figure skater as he walked not quite behind Blaine and they both beamed at each other. “He’s with Hummel now. We were not good together.”

“You did love him, once.”

“And look at what that led us to, a hushed-up article about a bar fight between an Olympic gold medalist and the son of a US Senator. And to think that it started out as a date.”

“Well, I am glad to see you’re better now.” Derek grinned at him, “and I look forward to beating you on the ice.”

“You got a Bronze last time.” Logan nudged him, ”don’t act like as if you won.”

“At least I was on the podium, Mr 4th Place.” Derek smiled cheekily and slapped Logan on the back, who narrowed his eyes on him, “Oh it’s so on Seigerson.”

“Come at me, Wright.”

The opening ceremony went on for the rest of the night and soon it was the next day and qualifying rounds began for the games which would last for almost two weeks.

You got this, just ski like you normally ski and all will be well.

“Men’s round – Team 1 out on the ice.”

“You got this.” He told himself and immediately walked into another person. He couldn’t stop it from happen and they both went slipping out into the ice.

“Ow,” Logan said and from where he was sprawled out on the floor. “You okay,” Derek said as skied and stopped next to him. “Yes, though I think I was sabotaged.” and Derek laughed, “Sabotaged, by him.” He gestured to the other person who was still winded out, lying on the ice.

He looked pale and delicate, slender Logan corrected as those were clearly muscles that moved through his skin-tight training suit as he was surrounded by teammates – Great Britain, Logan read as the guy slowly moved away from the ice, shivering. Logan frowned, he would have to be freezing here out in the snow, in the elements with just a training suit which did wonders for his body highlighting his muscles, skin tight and black standing out in the white snow.

“Logan. Hey.” He realized that Derek was still talking to him and he dusted himself and nodded to Derek, “I am alright, let’s do this.”

In, out, just like breathing. Logan thought as he skied, that’s its.

“Great work everyone.” Their coach smiled and Logan nodded. He was done for the day and he needed the rest hoping that his allotted room was free.

He dropped his kit back in the room and went down to the mess building and almost collided with another person. Twice in one day, seriously “Oh great, it's you again.”

“Excuse me.” Logan asked, he didn’t know the guy in front of him but he looked pissed, “Are you out for round 2 then,” and he realized it was the guy from the morning. “Woah, excuse me,” he narrowed his eye "You collided with me.” The angry look that met him made all the blood in his body pool immediately in his dick. The guy was absolutely his type, little taller than him, slender but strong, tousled brown hair as he sneered at him. He studied Logan’s Team USA jacket and snorted, “Don’t think I am going to allow you to boost Hummel’s chances at gold. I got this in the bag.” and smirked and walked away.

Who was that?

“We’re are going to see the figure skating program later today, coming with?”

Logan looked up to find Derek and a bunch of his fellow skiers changed out of their uniform. “I want to practice a few jumps, now that the trails are free,” Logan said as he picked up his snowboard.

“Oh give it a rest.” Derek laughed and clapped him on the back. “We just skied a perfect practice. I can beat you later on the board.”

Logan narrowed his eyes, “You mean like how I beat you yesterday, even after my fall.”

“Sure, whatever." Derek drawled, "plus David here hasn’t stopped whining about seeing his girlfriend and he’s making me miserable. He’s an even worse roommate than you.” he said laughing at their teammate David Sullivan who was ecstatic when his girlfriend made the cut.

“I miss her,” David said and smiled at his phone display that was an image of a smiling girl with long brown and large brown eye.

“Plus there will be girls” Wes piped “And Boys.” chimed Shane, Dear God another Anderson, of the US Ski Team.

The break in the practice was actually refreshing and Logan found himself enjoying as his teammates cheered on their fellow teammates, occasionally passing comments if a cute girl skated by.

They were also not alone as Blaine Anderson was out near the rink gazing moodily at his boyfriend who was doing warm-ups in the corner when the Team Great Britain entered in.

“Oh wow, who is that.” Derek eyes glazed and Derek saw him look at a girl in Team GB coat enter the rink and practice skating.

“Casey Scott.” David replied moodily, “Katherine’s frenemy, gold medal hopeful, placed first in the Worlds last year and the Grand Prix.”

”You know a lot about figure skating man.” Derek replied as he watched Casey spin and skate her way around the ice. “Teach me about it. Like what move is that which made her skirt fly up. She looked cute doing it.” and Logan smiled at his best friend’s dopey grin and heart eyes.

“Slow down cowboy, you just learnt her name.”

“Well, we definitely need to put this in use.” Derek tossed something from his pocket at Logan’s face and who reflexively caught it.

“I have my own thank you very much,” Logan smirked and threw it back the Derek who laughed and pocketed it.

“They give them out every single year.” Charlie Amos said from behind him and Logan wondered if the entire US Ski team/snowboarding team was going to show up to watch the US figure skate team participate.

“What are you doing here man?” David and Wes smiled and hugged their friend

“Heard from Shane that we’re all gathering here so I made my way here,” Charlie said and zipped up his coat making himself comfortable.

“I see that the men’s team is next.” Charlie when he noticed Kurt and the others gathering next to the rink entrance.

“Oh man, I hope Blaine plays it cool and not mess up like yesterday,” Shane whispered as he watched his older brother dopily follow his boyfriend everywhere he went.

“Yeah, that’s not going happen.” Wes and David laughed loudly, “Not if Kurt decides to play.”

“What did he do?” Logan laughed and Derek nodded eagerly.

“He was watching Kurt unzip his jacket and he missed a couple of stairs and tripped.” David laughed. “Kurt was to blame, he knew Blaine was watching him so he threw a couple of smirks and saucy winks at him and then Blaine fell.”

“Spectacularly“ Wes laughed, “He didn’t get hurt.” He was in full gym uniform, padding and everything, having not bothered to change, But yeah.”

“But then Kurt made it up to him, several times may I add and loudly.”

“See this why you need to test these soon.” Derek quipped and slapped the condom back into Logan’s hand when Shane whistled next to him. “I think I will take that.” and pocketed the condom from a surprised Logan. “Team GB has just walked in and I think I have died and gone to heaven. There is an actual angel on the rink.”

Logan side-eyed Shane from where he was moonily gazing out on the rink and laughed, the Anderson Brothers were a riot alright and he turned to look out at the rink and his breath got stuck.

Out on the rink right in the middle, a boy was skating perfectly with the music, moving in, moving out, gliding with the flow of the music as he skated gracefully across the ice. He raised an arm up twirled before he took off in jump which had all crowd cheering and Logan staring in admiration. He then landed gently and twirled again and Logan recognized his face immediately.

“It's him.” He jogged Derek’s arm “from yesterday and today.”

“Who is that?.” Logan said and realized that Shane had asked the same thing. There’s no way he was getting the perfect stranger, he was Logan’s

“Who.” all the guys asked as they watch the two of them.

“Him,” Logan whispered, at boy danced seamlessly with the music, his brunette hair arranged artfully as he raised a hand up and jumped again.

“The cute one, who skates like an angel, like a perfect cherub with wings.” Everyone sighed at Shane’s adjectives and he waved his hand, no his entire body at the little Strawberry blond Team GB skater as he skated across the ice. “He looks like a Botticelli carved angel.” and everyone groaned.

“Reed Van Kamp,” Charlie announced reading from his phone. “Team GB, figure skating.”

“Give me that.” Shane made grabby hands towards Charlie who sighed and handed his phone to Shane who alternated between the staring moonily at the phone and Reed skating.

“The other one is Julian Larson, in case you’re interested.” Derek smiled at his friend softly.

“Julian Larson,” Logan whispered as he tracked the boy skate gracefully across the ice, moving in time with the music, a soft smile on his face. Maybe he has more than just gold to look forward too.

#Joganfic #daltonfic #daltonverse #daltonbigbang2020 #cp coulter's daltonverse #daltonbigbang

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hazyheel · 5 years

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WWE Smackdown Live 8/6/19 Review

We started things up with Charlotte Flair coming down to the ring. Charlotte started out by just being cocky, and the fans seemed to actually like her. She said that she was genetically superior, and no one can be as great as she is. She said that Trish cannot hang in the WWE today. The women’s division has evolved past her era, and Trish cannot hold her own anymore. That is why she packed up and left, and she should do it again. Then she called Trish a sellout for wanting one more match, and she said that she is going to shatter Stratus’s dreams of being the best woman in WWE history. Then she tried to show a video package of herself, but it was hijacked and showed one of Stratus instead. Then Stratus came out herself, and called Charlotte entitled. Stratus then said that she was dreaming of one more match, and she wants to fight Charlotte so she can prove that she can still go. She said that even though Charlotte is the Queen, she isn’t as good as Trish. Charlotte then said that at Summerslam, she would make her bow to the Queen. Stratus then slapped Charlotte, but Charlotte just laughed it off and left, which is way more disrespectful.

Grade: B+. I like this feud a lot. I’m not normally into Legend matches, but this one is being built well, and has a nice story. Charlotte is a great trash talker, and Trish is setting herself up the way a legend should be set up. She isn’t sure if she can still go, but she wants to try and she thinks she can. It’s an inspirational tale that will get struck down at Summerslam, and I can’t wait for it. Best segment of the night.

Then we had Dolph Ziggler vs. Rey Mysterio. Ziggler came out with Goldberg’s entrance, which tricked the crowd and looked pretty funny and disrespectful. Ziggler attacked as Mysterio came down to the ring. He went for the mask, and he nailed a superkick. It looked good, Mysterio sold really well and Ziggler looked strong. Some refs came down to separate them, but he just nailed Mysterio with another superkick. Ziggler then grabbed a mic and said that he will take down all the legends. He will kill the nostalgia, and make room for the real stars on the rosters. He said that this will be Goldberg’s last match. Then Ali came down to the ring, he checked on Mysterio and blasted Ziggler in the face with a spin kick and a suicide dive. During the commercial, Ali presumably said something inspirational and challenged Ziggler to a match, but I don’t really know. So when we came back they were wrestling, and having a pretty good match at that. Ziggler quickly got the win with a superkick.

Grade: B-. All of this to build some momentum for Ziggler, make him look strong so Goldberg looks good. Fair enough, I don’t mind it. Ziggler got a good win and looked good doing it. And although he will probaby lose, that is fine. At least he got one win.

Then they recapped the hit and run with Roman from Raw, where they somehow had video from inside the car that hit him. So that was funny. Then we heard from Reigns in an interview. He said that he is keeping it together because he has been through worse. Those times, he knew what was attacking him, but he doesn’t know this time. He said that WWE offered him security, but he turned it down because he is a lone wolf. Then he apologized to Samoa Joe because he knew Joe wasn’t involved. He said that he was going to get some answers tonight. Cool, I wanna know who it is.

Up next was a video package for Harley Race. Rest in peace.

Then we went right into had a Challenger vs. Challenger match: Natalya vs. Ember Moon. The two locked up right away and went right into some impressive technical wrestling. The two fought a little bit, and as they went out of the ring, Nattie locked in a sharpshooter on Moon, and they were both counted out. Bayley ran out to Moon’s aid, and Nattie pushed her into the barricade. Bayley still helped moon up, but Moon pulled away.

Grade: C-. Same thing as last night, except Nattie had no reason to hurt Moon. But I guess that she is slowly getting more and more deranged, but I didn’t think she was gonna turn full heel. This is a very heel move, so that could be coming.

Next up was the KO Show, with Shane McMahon as the guest. Shane took his sweet time coming to the ring, which bothered Owens a lot. As the ring announcer was giving Shane’s entrance, Owens just grabbed the mic from him and moved on. Owens talked about how he didn’t ask Shane to put his career on the line because he knew Shane would just do whatever he wanted anyway. Then Owens did deliver a loser leaves WWE challenge to Shane, trying to appeal to his sense of pride. Shane shot that down right away. He started to be very condescending to Owens, telling him the various ways he can win the match. Pin, submission, count out, or disqualification. Owens then said that by denying the challenge, Shane doesn’t have any balls. Shane sounded like he was about to fight him fair and square right now, but then Elias ran in as some backup. Owens still had the upper hand for much of the exchange, throwing Shane over the announce desk. He nearly put him through it, but Elias stopped him. He gave Elias a stunner on the table, but as he was taunting, Shane swept the leg and then beat him down before pushing the table on top of Owens. Shane then set up a chair and drop kicked it into Owen’s face while he was pinned against the barricade.

Grade: B. The KO show was largely uneventful, but I enjoyed the beatdown quite a bit. Shane actually looked strong despite the fact that he had help. Shane looked very violent and cool, while Owens just looked overwhelmed by multiple opponents. Good stuff, but I still don’t think the match will be all that good.

Out next was Sami Zayn. He grabbed a mic and talked about Aleister Black. Saying that he gave Black a great opportunity for a match at Summerslam. But Black didn’t respond, so Zayn is calling him a fraud. He said that he wants to end the hype of Aleister Black. But as he was talking, Black came out to the ring. He said that the match would be happening right now rather than at Summerslam. So this one got cut from the Summerslam card too.

That match started right up, with Zayn trying to take Black down early, but Black nailed him in the chest with a kick. Zayn fought back during the commercial, and beat down Black. Black had small flurries of offense, but Zayn continued to put them down. Black eventually fought back with a great high knee, before picking up Zayn and nailing the Black Mass for the win.

Grade: B-. This match wasn’t long enough to really get going. I’m sure that this would have been a much better match if they were both on the summerslam card and given like 15 minutes. But they got cut for some reason, and they had a slightly above average TV match.

Backstage, Shelton Benjamin was asked about competing for the 24/7 championship, but he just looked around and smiled. What the hell.

Then we had a quick Firefly Funhouse, where he talked about how much he loves Finn Balor. However, he said that Balor’s courage was just ignorance in disguise, and he said that he was coming for him. Creepy and cool.

Then we had Chad Gable backstage, talking to Elias a bit. Elias was pissed that he was working out near his guitar. Then Elias called him short, so Gable got right up in his face. Could be a fun feud, but if Gable is on 205 Live, then just put him there. He is a great addition to the roster, don’t confuse things.

Then they showed a video package about Kingston vs. Orton. That match has not been given the buildup that it deserves, despite the fact that it is a really good story.

Next up was New Day vs. Daniel Bryan and Rowan. Bryan started out quickly, but Woods fought back with a great Tope con Hilo. After a commercial, we saw some of the best teamwork from New Day that we are used to with various double teams, but The Planet’s tag team used their singles prowess to slowly crawl back into it. The heels worked over Woods’ neck slowly, softening him up for the lebell lock. Eventually, Big E got the hot tag and threw Bryan around for a looooooong time with Suplexes, but Bryan started to target the legs in order to gain his advantage back. After Bryan delivered the kicks to the chest, Big E rolled him up for a near fall, but then locked in a deadlift stretch muffler, which was very impressive. Bryan reversed it into the lebell lock, and then a triangle, only for Big E to powerbomb him out of it. Rowan nearly took out Big E, but Woods got a blind tag and nailed an ensiguri. Big E followed that up with a great lariat, and Woods nailed a limit breaker, but Bryan broke up the pin. Big E then gave Bryan a spear through the ropes, and Woods went for a suicide dive, but Rowan nailed him in the head with the stairs for the DQ.

The heels beat on the new Day, with Rowan hitting Big E with the Iron Claw, and Bryan nailing Woods with the running knee.

Grade: B. Really good tag match. Bryan and Rowan are a great tag team, and they and the new day put on a great main event. I love tag team wrestling, but the New Day have looked a bit weak lately. Hopefully they have series of good defenses until a unification match with the OC at Survivor series.

And in the final segment, Roman Reigns entered the locker room and made everyone leave, in order to talk to Buddy Murphy. He accused Murphy of attacking him, which Murphy denied. Reigns then started to get threatening, but Murphy said that he wouldn’t tell him anything, and the two brawled. Reigns kicked his ass all over the locker room, until Murphy said that Rowan was the one who did it.

Then we saw Bryan and Rowan watching from the ring, as the show ended.

Grade: B. Fun little brawl, although it sucks that it wasn’t Buddy Murphy. That would’ve been a hell of a way to get him over. Maybe a new man is joining their ranks, that could be fun. But either way, Reigns vs. either Rowan or Bryan is happening at Summerslam in an impromptu match, so we have a new addition to the card.

Overall Grade: B-

Pros: Charlotte Promo; KO Show; new day vs. Planet’s tag team; reigns brawl

Cons: Natalya vs. Moon; black and zayn was bumped from Summerslam

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lelandsteel-blog · 7 years

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Cataclysm - Prologue

Shane Elmsmund let out a groan as he was awakened by the familiar crowing of the farm’s rooster and the wonderful aroma of frying bacon. His mother always was an early riser.

“Wish Ma was cooking up that damn bird instead,” he mumbled to himself. Shane sleepily opened his eyes, only to immediately slam them shut against the bright sunlight that penetrated the gloom of his bedroom. The threadbare curtains that covered his windows offered him no respite.

Throwing the bed covers aside, he stood up with arms raised above his head, his whole body shaking at the morning stretch. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

“Rise and shine, it’s farmin’ time!” Shane’s father, Victor, burst into the the room with his usual morning greeting and grin. Victor’s broad shoulders and square head barely fit through the doorframe. Shane’s outstretched arms shot down to cover himself.

“Relax boy, nothin’ I haven’t seen before,” Victor chuckled. “But put on some clothes and let’s join your mother and sister for some breakfast and then get to work. Those fields won’t plough themselves!” Another of his dad’s favourite farming adages. Victor closed the door and descended the stairs to the kitchen. His work boots made an audible STOMP STOMP STOMP through the paper thin walls of the Elmsmund family home.

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“Daddy, look, I did it!” Ellanor came sprinting from the back porch of the house like a streaking bolt of energy, into the field where Victor and Shane were tilling soil. She stopped short of the farming duo. They saw her lips move and heard a barely audible incantation as she made a short but purposeful wave of her hand, followed by a flick of her wrist. A shower of harmless sparks erupted from her outstretched fingers and into the air.

“That’s my talented little Ellie!” Victor exclaimed with a proud smile. “Now, off you go to do your chores. You’ll have plenty of time to practice your magic at the Academy.” Ellie gave her biggest smile and skipped off towards the barn. Her black, curly locks bounced up and down in time to her movements.

“I still don’t think she should go Pa. Everybody in Balkana knows the ASF really runs that place!” Shane voiced his concerns but they fell on deaf ears.

“Son, we’ve been over this a dozen times! Your sister could actually get out of this city and put her talents to good use. And with everythin’ that’s been happenin’ around here. . . I just want the best for her.” Victor paused and put a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “For both of you.”

Shane met his father’s gaze and gave him a brief smile and a nod. “Alright Pa.”

Victor cleared his throat and broke eye contact with his son, motioning towards the northern end of the field and the vast woods behind it, “Come on, we can finish the field later this afternoon. I noticed part of the fence has been overtaken by the forest undergrowth. If you had trimmed it back like I had told you to, it wouldn’t take the two of us to do it now..”

“What are you talkin’ about, I cut that back to the treeline three days ago!” Shane explained defensively.

“Quit that bullshittin’ and go grab us some sickles from the barn. Before I lose my temper,” instructed Victor in a calm, but forceful tone. Shane knew that tone, his father’s ‘no more nonsense, end of discussion’ tone. Without another word, Shane broodily lumbered towards the barn. Shoulders almost as wide as Victor’s slumped in frustration at the dismissal of his claims. With two sickles in hand, Shane returned to his father, who now stood at the northern edge of their property inspecting a section of fence. Or at least, Shane thought it was a section of fence. It had been completely grown over by thick, thorny brambles and wispy sprouts of dried out, dead looking weeds. Curled, mossy vines had wrapped around the fence posts like some kind of venomous snake, ready to lash out at any second.

With slack jawed disbelief, Shane stared at the overgrowth as he handed a sickle to his father. “I swear it Pa, no less than three days ago I had this fence cleared and cut back damn near twenty feet right to the treeline! What kind of plant grows back that fast?”

“Apparently this kind.” That ‘no nonsense’ tone again as Victor brought his sickle down in a sweeping, practiced arc, cutting a two foot swath of brambles and vines away from one of the fence posts. Freed from its encumbrance, they could now clearly see a large split at the post’s base. As if something had pushed hard against it.

“Damn. Looks like this patch job will take longer than I thought. We’ll have to put in at least one new post, maybe more. And these damn brambles have twisted up in the fence wire” explained Victor.

“You think some animal was tryin’ to get through the fence? Maybe a wolf or bear tryin’ to get to the chickens?”

“If it was, we’d better get this mended and check the rest of the fencin’ before nightfall.” Victor cast an agitated gaze past the overgrowth and broken fence post, letting it fall upon the forest he use to know so well as a child growing up on the farm. No recognition registered with him in that moment. Even in the middle of that bright afternoon, the forest looked dark and twisted. It cast an oppressive gloom that reached out with grasping tendrils that seemed to grow as quickly as the vines and brambles that now entangled his fence.

His uneasiness intensified and his knuckles turned bone white as his grip on the sickle involuntarily squeezed tighter. Among the trees, he saw a face with dark, sunken eyes and wooden, emotionless features. One more. Two more. Five more! Victor instinctively brought his hands up in front of him, his right hand held the sickle, while his left balled up into a massive fist.

“What is it Pa? Do you see somethin’ out there?” Victor quickly glanced at his son to see Shane mimicking his own defensive stance. His eyes darted back to the treeline to address the would be attackers, but none could be found. In their stead, gnarled, swirling tree knots shrouded in eerie shadows cast from the dense foliage above.

“Just. . . Just a deer,” lied Victor, as he slowly lowered his hands to his sides.

“Let’s go get it Pa! Surprise Ellie and Ma with a nice stew for dinner tonight!” Shane excitedly took a step towards the woods, ready to vault over the fence and into the thick overgrowth to give chase.

Victor quickly grabbed his son by the arm and pulled him back towards him, “No! No, son.” Regaining his composure, Victor continued, “We have too much work to do before nightfall.” Raising the sickle above his head again, Victor continued to clear the vines and brambles without another word. His son stared at his father for a quizzical second, then stooped over to start cutting away the rampant growth as well.

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Victor and his wife, Magdela, arrived at the town meeting just in time to see Jaylen Jolsby standing on a table at the back of the Leaky Giant tavern. With every movement, his tall, wiry frame gave him the appearance of a marionette made to dance on a stage. He raised hands on outstretched arms and addressed the crowd gathered at the tavern, “Quiet! QUIET! Everybody, please. I know you are all concerned about what’s been going on in Balkana. The sightings, the disappearances. Some of you are worried. Scared. Angry. I know you’re all familiar with our organization, Monsters Are People. We’re here to educate and help.”

“Screw MAP! Bring back the ASF! This shit never would’ve happened if they were still in Pledge! Get our children back! ” yelled a man in the crowd. His outburst was met by a dozen cheers and plaudits from those around him. “There is something unnatural in those damn woods. It ain’t people, and it needs to be killed!” More approval from parts of the crowd.

“That’s ridiculous, there’s nothing out there you haven’t seen before!” interjected a short, brazen woman. Victor could just see the top of her head through the crowd, but he recognized her as one of his neighbors. Her shrill voice cut through the registrable uneasiness of the room. “There hasn’t been anything in those woods for a hundred and fifty years! The ASF saw to that. All these sightings of creatures are just hogwash, monsters are just a myth now!” she continued. Her claims were met by staunch assurances from more than half of the crowd.

Leaving his wife near the entrance of the tavern, Victor began to squeeze his massive body through the swath of people, towards the back of the tavern. Jaylen raised his arms again and beckoned for everybody to quiet down. “If there are creatures in those woods, they are creatures that need to be protected. I assure you, they will leave you alone as long as you leave them alone. The ASF’s brutal slaughter of monsters and their “destroy on sight” decree has been enforced for too long! There are other ways, we can coexist peacefully!”

“Peacefully?! How peaceful could it have been for my boy when he was ripped from his horse and dragged into the woods?!” yelled a haggard, sullen looking man near the front of the tavern. He swayed on his feet as he gestured aggressively, sloshing beer from his large mug onto the floor. “I can still hear him screaming for my help,” His layer of aggression quickly abated, leaving the raw, painful heartbreak beneath. Heartbreak that no amount of booze could ever fully dull.

“Sir, I’m sorry for what you’re going through, sorry for all those who lost somebody. But we can’t jump to conclusions about what has taken your children. Needless violence will not bring them back,” sympathized Jaylen.

Finally managing to shoulder his way to the makeshift podium, Victor turned to his fellow Balkanians. “I saw somethin’ in the woods this afternoon. Faces in the trees, hidin’ in the shadows.”

“See! I told you there weren’t any monsters! You know damn near everybody in town Victor, who were they?,” asked the shrill voiced woman.

“You don’t understand! They weren’t natural. They were blank, emotionless. And then they just vanished. . .” Victor tried to maintain his composure as his voice trailed off, but the fear he felt bled through every word. “There’s somethin’ else too. The forest is changin’. It’s darker, more dangerous lookin’.”

“He’s right about the woods changing,” confirmed a man in the crowd. His clothes were comprised of pelts from various animals and he stood with a bow slung across his body. Its string taut against his broad chest. Arrows fletched with black and red striped feathers protruded from the top of a leather quiver that was strapped to the man’s back. “I haven’t found a single track for any game in over a month. Their usual trails are overgrown with brambles and vines. Countless felled trees that look to have rotted from the inside out litter the forest floor.”

“So what? Plants grow, trees fall down. Clearly the real problem here is that a group of people are out in the woods, probably wearing some kind of masks, and are taking our children!” Victor’s neighbor continued to protest their dubious assumptions of unnatural woods. “Why won’t the King and Queen do anything about this? Why haven’t they sent some of the royal guard to help us?” Her questions were echoed by the concerned townsfolk. The anger at the lack of support from the royal family was one thing that all Balkanians agreed on.

“You all know as well as I do that we’re on our own out here. Anything north of Jaipul doesn’t get any attention from the royals,” Jaylen answered the woman’s questions despite their rhetorical nature. “My fellow MAP members and I will organize a search party tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. For as many days as it takes. We will scour those woods for your missing children, and for any culprits that may be responsible for their disappearance. Be they man or beast. We look after our own in Balkana.” Silent nods of approval throughout the crowd at Jaylen’s last remarks. “Now, in the meantime, we can set some safety parameters for the town.

Such as: stay as far away from the woods as you can, avoid walking around town at night or at least stay in pairs or larger groups if you have to, talk to your neighbors about creating safe places to go in the event of an emergency. All common sense in practice, but still very important. I see that a lot of you are carrying weapons with you tonight. I get that they can offer a sense of comfort, but please try to refrain from excessive armament. Too easily, it can lead to accidental injury or even death in extreme circumstances.”

Grumbles and tightened grips around the handles of axes, pitchforks and knives demonstrated the disapproval from the people who carried weapons.

“The search party will meet outside the Leaky Giant just after first light. We welcome any volunteers, but we will not be taking any weapons into the woods. Thank you all for coming, I assure you, MAP will find your children. It’s nearly sundown, so let’s all get home safe before dark,” Jaylen stepped down from his makeshift podium. Several people from the crowd hurriedly pushed past Victor and walked up to him. Victor saw them all shake hands with Jaylen and briefly overheard them exchange sentiments of their full support of MAP. Before he could hear more, he was approached by his own supporter with a hand held out.

“Victor, right? Oliver Oxenfurt. Can we maybe step outside to talk?” the man with the bow had lagged behind as the crowd filtered out of the tavern so he could speak to Victor.

“Right, Victor Elmsmund,” Victor confirmed as he gripped Oliver’s hand and gave it a hard shake. “Come on, my wife is waiting for me.” As the men turned to leave, Victor briefly looked at Jaylen. His supporters were still speaking to him, but Jaylen shot a glance past them and caught Victor’s eye, giving him a curt nod. Then both men turned away from each other, Jaylen back to his supporters and handshakes, Victor back to his new acquaintance. A puzzled expression swept across his face at Jaylen’s interest in him.

“You ok? You’ve got a funny look on your face,” observed Oliver.

Victor stuck a thumb over his shoulder at Jaylen as the two men joined his wife, who had been waiting at the entrance of the tavern. “If that mouthpiece over there thinks I’m plannin’ to join up with him and his namby-pamby MAP buddies, he’ll be sorely disappointed.”

“Victor please. They mean well and genuinely want to help the town. That’s more than anybody can say for the royals. Or the ASF,” rebuked Magdela as she gave her husband a soft slap on the arm.

“You’re right about the royals, but everybody knows they’re the ones who keep the ASF out of the province. I don’t doubt for a second that they’d be here helping if they could be,” as he replied to his wife,

Victor motioned for the three of them to continue outside. The late afternoon had turned to early evening. The trio could see the setting orange-red sun, almost three quarters past the horizon, westward towards Infernum Isle.

Magdela turned to Oliver and offered him her hand, “Do pardon my manners, Victor sure can get me in a huff when he sets his mind to it. I’m Magdela.”

“No apology necessary Mrs. Elmsmund, it is I who have forgotten my manners. When you spend most of your time alone in the wilderness, as I do, social niceties tend to fall by the wayside,” Oliver took Magdela’s hand in his and greeted her with a slight bow that seemed to come as naturally and habitually as a nobleman’s might.

“I see not all of them are forgotten,” Magdela smiled and returned Oliver’s bow with a clumsy curtsy. “And please, call me Maggie.”

“What is it you wanted to talk to me about?�� inquired Victor.

Oliver spoke in a hushed tone and leaned in towards Victor and Magdela, “What you saw in the woods, I’ve seen them too. Or rather, felt them. I’ve never gotten quite as good a look at them as it sounds like you have. Only ever seen them out of the corner of my eye. And when I turn to look, nothing. Not a sound, not a track. Just overgrown vegetation and the trees. Whatever they are, they are definitely not people.” Victor nodded as Oliver continued, “Even though I haven’t been able to properly track them, I’ve mapped out every encounter I’ve had.” Pulling out a folded piece of parchment marked with roughly two dozen black X’s, Oliver brandished a hand made map of the woods that bordered the northern edge of Balkana’s town limits.

Victor examined the detailed map, recognizing the labelled landmarks drawn along the map’s treeline. His farm being one of them. “If these X’s are the sightings, than what are these six circles? They’re marked much closer to town, away from the woods.”

“Based on what I’ve been able to glean from the gossip around town, without drawing too much attention to myself,” Oliver continued to explain, “Those are the approximate abduction sites of each missing child. I’m here to find them. The King and Queen have sent me, I’m part of the royal guard.” His hushed tone shrank to a whisper as he mentioned his connection to the rulers of the province of Pledge.

“No need to whisper I reckon, looks like pretty near everybody has cleared out. You should’ve spoken up in there about the royals, you could be leadin’ the search party tomorrow,” Victor posited.

“I am to maintain a low profile to suss out the culprits and bring them to justice,” Oliver recited his royal instructions by rote. “Those are my orders.”

Magdela nodded in understanding, “If it was someone, or a group of someones, who lived in town, announcing yourself to be looking for them would surely mean the culprits go to ground. The children might never be found if that happened.” Victor smiled at his wife’s sharp insight. She was always good at peeling back the surface layers and sussing out one’s true intent.

“I’m glad you’re here to help, but I still don’t get what you’re telling me this for,” Victor studied the map again as he waited for Oliver to elaborate.

“Look at the pattern of the X’s. They start to cluster closest to here, and here,” Oliver tapped his finger on two scribbled rectangles. One labelled “The Monastery” and the other “Elmsmund Farm”.

“I think you’re in danger from whatever is out there. The monks at the monastery as well. I’m going there right now to try and warn them. Based on the previous abductions, these things seem to be more opportunistic than aggressive, but it may be prudent for you two to leave the property until this gets figured out.”

Rolling up the map, Victor handed it back to Oliver defiantly, “Appreciate the information, but this farm is our livelihood. Been in the family four generations. And it’ll be five when I pass it down to my boy. Good luck at the monastery. And I hope you find those kids.” Victor took Magdela’s hand in his as he turned away from Oliver and the Leaky Giant, walking towards home. Magdela’s expression showed nothing but steadfast support for her husband as she gave Oliver a polite nod.

Unfurling, and then folding, his parchment map, Oliver sighed to himself, “That man’s as stubborn as Dad is. He’d probably make a good King.” Smiling at this last thought, Oliver pocketed his map and headed off in the direction of the monastery.

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The last sliver of sun disappeared behind the skyline of Balkana as the Elmsmund farmhouse came into view at the end of Lillywood Lane. Victor and Magdela walked with linked arms like they use to when they were teenagers sneaking off into the trees to be alone. The woods were inviting then, the memories brought a smile to Vicor’s face. It was short lived, however.

“Vic! VIC!” The Elmsmunds turned to see Jaylen bounding down the road in their direction. His long stride made short work of the distance between them. In a second, Jaylen had skidded to a halt before them. One hand clasped onto Victor’s shoulder for support, the other on his own knee as Jaylen doubled over to catch his breath. “Phew! I thought I’d never catch up to you!” Oblivious of the deepening scowl that crept across Victor’s face, Jaylen stood upright with a wide grin. “Glad to see you two made it to the meeting. If I had known you wanted to speak, Vic, I would’ve given you an introduction! Not that you need one around here.”

“What do you want, Jaylen?” growled Victor.

Jaylen’s grin never wavered. “You need to help me Vic. I want you to aid me in leading the search efforts. Those people know you and they trust you. Whether or not you support MAP doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is finding those kids.”

“He’s right. We need to help in anyway that we can,” Magdela looked at him with soft, compassionate eyes as she echoed Jaylen’s sentiment. “Come on Vic.” A sly smirk formed at the corner of her mouth as she accentuated his newly dubbed nickname.

Victor’s scowl softened as he struggled to hold back a smirk of his own. “Alri-” His words were cut short by a piercing, high pitched scream that startled all three of them. Victor’s head snapped towards the origin of the scream, his body quickly following, as he broke into a sprint towards the farmhouse. His sudden departure kicked up large dust clouds from the dirt road that made up Lillywood Lane. These clouds only grew thicker when Magdela and Jaylen kicked up some of their own as they followed Victor half a second later. Ahead of them, Victor neared the fence that lined the perimeter of the property line. He ignored the gate and vaulted clear over the four foot high section of razorwire. He disappeared from sight as he rounded the corner of the farmhouse, heading to the barn at the back of the property.

“SHANE, HELP!” A second scream echoed through the air.

Using the fence gate, Magdela and Jaylen followed Victor’s path around the farmhouse. They turned the corner to see Victor running towards Shane, roughly one hundred twenty feet away. He was on his knees with one hand held up to his face. Thirty feet beyond Shane, a shower of sparks shot into the air, illuminating a tall figure stepping over the remains of a destroyed section of fencing. The figure had Ellanor slung over it’s shoulder and was crossing the shadowed treeline. The sparks fizzled out, shrouding Ellie and her captor in the darkness of dusk once more. Ellie let out a third scream as they vanished into the woods.

Jaylen and Magdela caught up to Victor as he was hoisting Shane to his feet and ushering him towards the barn. “What the hell happened son? Be quick!”

“ I don’t know Pa! Ellie was out here practicin’ her magic while I was bringin’ the cows into the barn for the night. I heard her scream and I came rushing out to see somebody takin’ her! I tried to get her back Pa, I swear I did. When I got close I got hit hard in the face. I think he was carryin’ a switch or somethin’.” Shane pulled his hand away from his face to show his father. He looked behind him to see Jaylen and his mother closely following them to the barn. Magdela let out a short gasp at the long, bloody gash that ran across Shane’s right cheek, just stopping short of his right eye.

The foursome reached the open doors of the barn where Victor let go of Shane’s arm and stepped over the threshold. He returned with an armful of equipment: three sickles, two lanterns and a length of rope. Shane immediately took a lantern from his father and lit the candle inside, then eagerly grabbed one of the sickles.

Victor offered a second sickle to Jaylen. “I’m happy to help you, but I won’t be needing that.”

“Fine, then take the damn lantern. And the rope.” Victor thrust the light source into Jaylen’s hands and took a sickle into each of his own.

“Rope?” asked Jaylen, as he put his arm through the coil of rope and brought one end over his head so it draped across his body.

“When we catch the bastard, we’ll need somethin’ to restrain him with. Maggie, you need to get into the house and lock the doors, there could be more of them still. If we’re not back by sunup, you need to find Oxenfurt. I’ll make sure we leave a trail that he can follow.” Mindful of the sickles, Victor gave her a quick embrace as he pressed his lips to hers.

“You get our little girl back,” she half pleaded, half demanded.

Nodding, Victor said, “Come on, they have enough of a head start as it is.” Victor and Jaylen turned towards the woods and advanced in the direction of Ellie’s captor.

Shane paused only to give his own goodbye to his mother as she took his face in her hands and kissed him on the forehead. “Look after your father.” Shane mimicked his father’s nod of confirmation and ran to catch up to Jaylen and Victor as they reached the broken section of the fence. One of the fence posts had been snapped, its splintered trunk left sticking out of the ground. The trio entered the woods, lanterns held high, casting an aura of yellow-orange light that reached no more than twenty feet in any direction. Beyond that, complete black, as the forest seemed to swallow up any refuge from the oppressive darkness. Another scream from Ellie and a shower of sparks momentarily showed them the way.

“We’re comin’ Ellie, keep sparkin’ for Daddy!” bellowed Victor. Spurred on by the magical breadcrumbs Ellie was leaving for them, they moved forward as quickly as possible without stumbling over the strange abundance of upturned roots. Every thirty or forty steps they took, Victor would lash out with one of his sickles, cutting roots, slashing bushes, slicing the bark of a tree. Anything to leave a visible trail that could easily be tracked in the daylight.

Ellie shot out another spray of sparks, this time off to the far left of the course they were currently on. They seemed to be closing the distance between themselves and Ellie. Veering in the direction of her latest spark signal, they heard her yell again. “Daddy, hurry! It’s hurting me, please!” Victor and Shane let out an angry yell in unison, outraged by her cries. Recklessly charging forward, Shane shot in front of his father and Jaylen, quickly outpacing them. He was desperate to redeem himself for not being able to protect his little sister.

“Let go of my sister you piece of shit!” Shane screamed in a blind rage that fueled his pursuit. CRACK. Shane looked to his right in time to see a thick section of tree trunk enter the edge of his lantern light, the top of the tree hidden by the darkness outside of his view. It fell at a forty five degree angle across Shane’s path, forcing him to dive to his left or be crushed by the falling lumber. His left shoulder slammed into the ground as he performed a desperate roll and a slide that slowed him down just enough to avoid getting crushed. Instead, he came to an abrupt stop as he slammed into the felled tree that now lay across the forest floor. His lantern was flung from his grasp, landing somewhere in the thicket of trees and extinguishing on impact.

Another of Ellie’s screams jolted Shane from the daze of his impromptu acrobatics. Still holding onto the sickle in his right hand, he got to his feet as Victor and Jaylen caught up to him. Shane’s left arm hung limply at his side, he was unable to move it.

“Damn it boy! Are you alright?” asked Victor, as he motioned for Jaylen to bring their one remaining lantern closer to Shane so he could take a look at him.

“I’m fine Pa, let’s keep goin’!” Shane urged.

“Quickly, and carefully. This tree didn’t just happen to fall on you. I’ve herded enough cattle to know when I’m being lead by the hand.” Victor peered into the surrounding darkness as he said this. “Now come on, your sister put out some sparks to the right of us.” The three of them climbed over the downed tree and continued after Ellie.

“They’re herding us? You’ve got to be kidding.” Jaylen balked at Victor’s incredulous assumptions.

“You think they’d really let Ellie keep on yellin’ and sparkin’ like that if they didn’t want us to follow them somewhere?”

“And we’re going to do exactly what they want us to do?!”

“Either that or let ‘em take my Ellie. And that is not an option. Just know, that when the time comes for us to have to fight, you better be ready. Standin’ idly by and doin’ nothin’ makes you as guilty as these fuckers in the woods.” Victor stopped abruptly and turned to Jaylen, looking him right in the eyes. He used one of his sickles to menacingly point at the coil of rope Jaylen carried. “And if somethin’ happens to my daughter, I’ll hang every guilty party with that rope myself.” Victor started after Ellie again, immediately followed by Jaylen as he held the lantern high to cast enough light for Victor to navigate by.

They followed Ellie’s sparks in silence, being led in a zig zag pattern through the thickest parts of the wilderness. All the while Victor and Shane hacked at bushes and tree trunks, leaving signs of their passage. An hour of chasing them. Two hours. Ellie’s sparks seemed to be getting dimmer, weaker. Flashing in the darkness at longer and longer intervals. Repeatedly, they would come within ten yards of Ellie. The flashes briefly showed her panicked, haggard, and exhausted little face. Her arms weakly reached out for her father and brother. Victor and Shane would sprint into the darkness to close the gap between them and Ellie. Their attempts thwarted every time by another felled tree in their path, or they’d suddenly find themselves barreling into a dense crop of trees right where Ellie should have been. Forcing them to slow, and squeeze through gaps between the tree trunks barely large enough to allow them to wrest their way to the other side.

“Pa,” Shane paused briefly between heaving breaths, “They’re goin’ to run us ‘til we drop!” They had sprinted ahead again to catch Ellie. The first sparks they had seen in more than ten minutes. CRACK! CRACK! Stopping short at the now familiar sound of falling trees, the trio waited for two trees to crash down in front of them, criss crossing as they landed, before vaulting the twelve inch thick trunks. Instead of landing in more overgrowth and brush, their feet came down on soft, packed dirt. To their right, more dense forest like they had been traversing since they gave chase to Ellie’s abductor. To their left, the lantern light revealed a manicured, incongruous path carved through the wild and unkempt forest. It looked as though it originated from where they stood, a seemingly random spot in the woods.

“Well where the hell does this go to?” asked Jaylen.

“I’ll venture a guess it leads to nowhere good.” Directly in front of them, a pair of eyes briefly shimmered green as a fur clad man stepped in the lantern’s light.

“Oxenfurt! I told Maggie to find you at daybreak, what are you doing here?” Victor asked in surprise.

“I haven’t spoken to Magdela since we parted at the tavern,” Oliver explained, “I was at the monastery trying to warn the monks, like I told you. Their grounds back right onto the forest, where I saw a lantern light streaking through the dark. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night? Why would you need to send your wife to find me?” He glanced at Shane. Even in the low, orange glow of the lantern, Oliver could see the resemblance between Victor and his son. His eyes flitted to Jaylen, surprised to find him with Victor.

Motioning for everybody to keep moving, Victor led them down the newfound path as he explained to Oliver. “One of them took my daughter. We’ve been chasin’ them for hours, leavin’ a trail behind us. Maggie was to get you at daybreak if we hadn’t come back.”

Before Oliver could ask how they were able to track Ellie’s abductor, she conjured another burst of sparks. They had grown so dim, the men could barely see them despite their juxtaposed intensity against the looming darkness. Sprinting a hundred feet down the clear dirt path, they seemed to gain ground on their quarry as the forest opened up on either side of them. The lantern light no longer revealed anything, giving way to darkness as they entered a clearing, slowing to a stop.

“Shit, which way now Pa? I can’t see trees anymore!” Shane proclaimed.

“We’re in a clearing, about eighty feet across. Looks man made, like the path we were on. I can see the treeline, but no sign of Ellie. Looks like the path continues to our right though,” Oliver pointed into the darkness and turned towards Victor. The lantern light angled across his face as he did so, causing his eyes to briefly flash green again. “Darkvision. I can see in the dark as if I by low lantern light,” Oliver explained as he read the confused expressions on the other men’s faces. “I’ll lead you to the opening, this way.”

Oliver took one step and abruptly stopped, bewildered. “It’s, it’s gone. The path opening is gone!” He whirled around to where they had come from. “The way we came is closed too! Oh god, prepare yourselves, we’re surrounded! I can see shadowy figures moving in from the treeline.” Oliver grabbed the bow draped across his chest in his left hand, and pulled it over his head. His right deftly notching an arrow that he shot into the darkness. The bowstring let out an audible TWANG as the arrow took flight. He repeated this three more times. Behind them. TWANG. To the right of them. TWANG. In front of them. TWANG. Each time they could hear the THWACK of the arrows hitting wood.

“Talk to us Oxenfurt, what’s out there?!” Victor had both sickles ready to lash out the second an attacker came into the area that the lantern revealed.

“They’re all over but I’m only hitting damn trees! It’s like the things sprout up right in front of them!” Oliver let fly another volley of three arrows. This time, the attackers returned fire as they struck at their light source. Two thin, eight inch long wooden needles flew through the air, letting out a whistle as they did. One struck the lantern, shattering the glass cover and snuffing out the candle within. The other impaled Jaylen’s left shoulder, entering just above his armpit and sticking out the back of his shoulder blade. Blood dribbled out of the protruding tip, the needle’s hollow center collecting a sample of blood as it tore through Jaylen’s muscle and tendons. He let out a painful and surprised scream as the impact sent him spinning to the ground.

In the darkness, Victor felt a hand clasp his shoulder and heard Oliver chant a short string of words that sounded like gibberish to him. The hand on his shoulder glowed a bright green, then abruptly went out. Victor could suddenly see Oliver standing in front of him. He could see Jaylen sprawled on the ground, clutching his wounded shoulder, sobbing. He could see Shane gripping his sickle in a defensive stance, crouched low and ready to attack. Everything was gray and colourless, details still difficult to make out, but he could distinctly count more than a dozen figures advancing from the treeline. Oliver’s barrage of arrows did nothing to slow their advance.

“Oxenfurt, help Shane see!” Victor cried out for Oliver to give his boy the same advantage he had been bestowed with, but his words were drowned out as Jaylen’s wounded sobs became terrified screams. Outstretched vines crawled across the ground like a tangle of snakes and wrapped themselves around Jaylen’s abdomen, pinning his arms in the process. Victor tried to take a step towards him to help, but his feet had become entangled by his own cluster of vines. They were wrapping further and further up his legs, to his knees, to his thighs. Victor began slashing at the thick vines with both sickles, desperate to free himself.

“Pa! Somethin’s got me, it’s wrappin’ me up!” Shane had also started slashing at his living bindings, blindly, frantically cutting away the vines. In the darkness, Shane swung his sickle low, trying to free his ankles. The blade easily cut through the mossy vines and dug deep into his shin bone. He howled in pain and collapsed to the dirt. The vines wrapped around both of his wrists and pulled taught. He was forced to his back, limbs being pulled in four directions.

All the while Oliver was still firing his arrows as fast as he could. TWANG TWANG TWANG TWANG TWANG. Another of the attacker’s wooden needles whistled through the air, piercing Oliver’s right bicep as he was drawing back another arrow. One more needle emitted it’s brief tune of motion before impaling Oliver’s right thigh with enough force to crack his femur. He too, collapsed with a bloody, painful thud.

Victor, the last man standing, was now constricted up to his waist. He placed one of his sickles flat against his stomach and sucked in, creating a brief void before the vines tightened. At the same time he slid the sickle down, all the way to his leg, slicing away the vines momentarily. He let out a yell of triumph and began cutting away at his other leg, peeling back the layer of vines like the skin of an orange. He was almost free when he felt the sharp sting of four slashes bite into the back of his right shoulder and down the length of his back. He staggered forward as hot blood poured from his wounds. Another four slashes, this time on his left shoulder, sliced down his back. Despite the grievous blows, Victor stayed on his feet. He tried to face his attacker, but the vines were on him again, his feet rooted in place.

“You fuckers! I’ll kill every last one of you!” Victor screamed and flailed his arms behind him, lashing out with his sickles. One found purchase and slammed into something hard, getting stuck. Armed with only one sickle now, Victor chopped at the vines, once again trying to free himself from their tireless grasp. His efforts were stunted by another attack as Victor was stabbed by whatever weapon had shredded the flesh on his back. He felt a four pronged pressure in his back and chest as his right lung was punctured. Victor gasped for air, coughing up blood, as he fell to the ground, landing in a mass of squirming vines. The vines wrap around his neck and squeezed. Victor clawed at the vines, tried to get his fingers in between them and his neck. The vines continued to wrap around him, his face, his entire body. Engulfing him in a constricting chrysalis, his transformation taking the form of crushed bones and ruptured organs. As unconsciousness loomed closer and the edges of his vision darkened despite Oliver’s magic, Victor saw past the edge of the clearing, far off among the trees, the dim flash of sparks.

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#dnd 5e #fantasy #roleplay #creativewriting

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skylerastevens · 7 years

Text

Today Was The Day

At seven twenty-three in the morning, Daniel pushed one of his kitchen chairs up to the window, sat in it, and peeked through the blinds—thin, plastic blinds so moving just one blind wasn’t noticeable from a distance. Daniel observed the already started silver sedan in Mr. Monte’s driveway. It was almost time. A tickle rose in Daniel’s stomach. Made him tap his foot and nibble the skin of his pinkie.

Like Mr. Monte did every weekday morning, he started the car at seven twenty flat and exited through his front door between the minutes of seven twenty-three and seven twenty-seven. Today he wore the grey suit so he must’ve been filling in for Selina Porter on the Porter Show. Mr. Monte walked down the concrete pathway from his front door towards his truck, taking high steps and planting them softly to avoid scuffing his leather shoes. He was texting on his Blackberry, probably chiming in with his boss, not thinking twice about Daniel. Definitely not thinking about Daniel.

Mr. Monte got into his car and, after a few minutes, honked because Molly was running late. Every Friday she ran a minute or two late because she was putting on her favorite red lipstick. On Friday’s she didn’t get back until late because she was out with her boyfriend, the guy who had that truck with the huge side mirrors and the little domes on them to give extra vision. They were really great mirrors.

Molly exited the house, locked the door, and walked for the car, all with a backpack on her shoulder, a brush in one hand and a mirror in the other. It was a round portable mirror with a white shell, foldable handle. She was starring at the mirror. Brushing her hair in the mirror. Thought, she was lipstick-less. It was her first time ever not wearing lipstick on a Friday.

Daniel split the blinds a bit more with his fingers. Just a little bit more though. In case Mr. Monte looked. One time Daniel had divided the blinds to much and even though they were thin, Mr. Monte noticed. That was the second worst day ever in Daniel’s life. Mr. Monte called him a creeper and said if he caught him again he'd file a restraining order. And Daniel hated restraining orders. On top of that, Dan didn’t talk to Daniel the whole day because Daniel was "looking for a new friend." They eventually made up though.

Daniel leaned in against the window glass. He could nearly see into Molly’s mirror. She just had to turn the mirror a little to her left. Come on, just a tiny bit more. But she didn’t; she just got into the car, and closed the door.

Before driving off, Mr. Monte glanced at Daniel’s window.

Daniel dove sideways, sprawling across the floor, giggling. Mr. Monte didn’t see him. Daniel was too quick.

And then the truck engine started and soon enough was dying off into the distance.

Daniel was still on the floor. Giggling. Had had to. He was gonna get a new friend today. Plus, Dan said it was okay to get a new friend. Daniel giggled even deeper.

Then he lifted himself up and took a deep breath. A pat on his chest. A tightening of his belt. Time to go.

He went to the garage and searched through cans of paint. Brown? or Yellow? He grabbed yellow. The grabbed a rigger brush from the neighboring cabinet. One more deep breath. He returned to the living room, shouted up the stairs, "I'll be back soonish," and went to the back door. He opened it and stepped out onto the patio. Warm sunlight, a chilly breeze. Through his nostrils, Daniel breathed in the fresh air, expanded his belly and--after a one, two, three--exhaled it all out through his mouth. A little giggle from inside slipped through the end of his breath. Calm. No laughs anymore. Not right now. He had to maintain himself or it would end up like the other worst day of his life, the time in Wyoming when Susan had installed mirrored windows to her house. Daniel couldn’t help but stand in her backyard all day—forgetting the time—and talking to all his friends. After that there were legal documents, a restraining order, grimaces from all the neighbors. Daniel left the state.

Daniel took big steps until he reached the fence that divided his house with Mr. Monte’s. His fingers were cycling like they were playing the piano or scratching paint off of glass.

“Today’s the day,” Daniel said. He tossed the paint can over the fence, spat into the hands. He rubbed his hands together and pat his chest once more. Next, after logging his hands in between the points of the wooden fence, he lugged himself up, planting his feet against the fence as an anchor. His arms were now fully extended so he tilted himself forward and his belly squished against the wooden points. Hell. Hell. Hell. Hell. He was holding his breath, wiggling inch by inch, and once he got to his waist, he let his weight take him. Before smacking the earth, he managed to twirl himself around so he landed on his side. Right on some pebble. Daniel let out a grunt. He sat up against the fence, weeded his hands through the grass until he found the rock—the little rock— and gave it a short look. He flicked it off.

Another deep breath. With a quick snatch for the paint, Daniel hurried towards Mr. Monte’s back door.

Daniel didn't check the door. Instead, he reached over the door frame, sliding his hand left and right. Nothing. He checked underneath each of the succulant pots. The couch cussions. The couch. The underside of the railing. He cursed. Maybe Mr. Monte moved the house key to...

At the front of the house, Daniel double and triple checked for people watching him. There were none. He lifted the door matt and the key was there. He walked down Mr. Monte's pathway, down the sidewalk, and to his own front door. He went in, shut the door, and let his walk manifest into a jog. Through the living room, passed the kitchen chair beside the window, into the kitchen, out the back door and over the fence a third--no, not like that. He brought the same kitchen chair from inside. This time he was able to throw himself over feet first and land almost perfectly. His big toe bent into the ground. It was sprained, but he could still walk--and jog.

Finally, Daniel unlocked the back door, picked up the paint can he had left there, and pushed the door open. There was an aroma: overcooked toast and maple syrup. Daniel sniffed in. Mmm. He entered into Mr. Monte's home. But, the door behind him slammed shut. A tingle wakened on the top of Daniel's back and, once enough time had passed for a person to paint a hairdue, it dropped down to his spine's edge. Daniel checked through the drapes of one of the windows and no one was there.

Daniel turned and faced the kitchen, the living room beyond it, the stairs beyond that. It was like his house, the same layout: the too-small island counter, the four cabinets above the sink, the twelve foot ceiling, the flat baseboard, the light switch behind the sink, the oversized entrance from the kitchen to the living room. But it was all spiced with Mr. Monte. A whitish, blackish marble finish bedecked the counters. The walls were white except for the wall of the front door; it was light blue. The floor was paneled wood--not tiles like Daniel's. There was a picture of Mr. Monte and Molly at her eight grade promotion hanging on the wall beside the dinner table. A venus fly trap sat on the window seal. The same, but different. It was the treasure of California suburban homes.

Daniel entered the living room, looked left at the cabinet displaying china pots, spoons, and teacups. "Hi Dev,"

Dev crossed his arms. It had been at least a month.

Daniel said, "Okay, I'm sorry. You know I couldn't."

He did that look just like Damien. It was the "whatever" look.

Daniel waved. "I got to go. Next time." He approached the stairs and removed his shoes. Dirt, dust, anything; It all sticks to white carpet. Then Daniel headed up the stairs, half-giggling. He walked down the left hallway and approached Molly's room ( which would be Dan's old room if this were Daniel's house). The golden doorknob was round like at Daniel's house, but the door was white, not its natural wood color.

Someone spoke from the other hallway. Someone in Mr. Monte's room.

Daniel paused. Listened. More muffled voices sounded. Daniel's bloodstream thudded in the deep innards of his ear. He spend twenty seconds, maybe thirty, turning around. He lifted his left foot. It took ten seconds to place it. Then the right. The left. The right. Until Daniel was half-way down the other hallway towards Mr. Monte's room (Daniel and Dan's room if it were Daniel's house).

The door was closed. And inside it was Mr. Monte. He was in there. He was definitely in there. How on God's planet did he manage to get inside? Did he come back by an Uber at the precise moment when Daniel had just grabbed the key and was running through his house? But Mr. Monte couldn't have gotten in without the key. Maybe he had his own key.

Mr. Monte said, "Yet, the right and the left are delirious. Shane, you cannot possibly think the banter between professionals. No, not just professionals. Congressman and congresswomen. You cannot think that is okay. I mean, come on. Deplorable. Despicable. Black-haters. Good-haters. Corrupt. Malicious. These are the words our representatives are using.

Another voice said, "Well, delirious isn't helping Henry."

Mr. Monte spoke again.

Daniel jerked the knob open and pushed the door forward. The television was on. Daniel giggled. The Selina Porter show airs every weekday morning at eight. If Dan were here, he'd be laughing so hard.

Daniel returned to Molly's door and entered her room. There it was. Above the head side of her bed. The ten foot-wide, five foot tall mirror. Daniel stepped before it at the foot of the bed. He wiped his eyes, waved, and said, "Hi."

The woman had brown eyes, buzzed brown hair, a square jaw and a gaunt head, one just like Dan's. She turned to face Daniel and said, "Oh. Who're you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Daniel said. "I always forget to introduce myself." He giggled. "I'm Daniel."

"I like that name." She smiled. It was very cute. She was very cute.

"Thanks," he said.

"And," Daniel asked," what beautiful name can fit such a beautiful face like yours?"

They both chuckled. Then she said, "Daniella."

Daniel frowned. "Oh my god."

Shocked, she asked, "What?"

He grinned. "You're name is beautiful."

She thanked him.

Then he said to her, "I love you're hair." Flirting with her. It was so natural. So right.

She said, "But you prefer blondes, don't you?" She pointed at his can of paint.

"I do." He shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"No. I've always wanted to try it. Please."

After Daniel memorized her location in the mirror, he removed his socks, and climbed on top of Molly's bed. With the house key, he pricked the can open and placed the lid on her bed without letting a drop spill. He dipped his fingers. The paint was cool, slimmy and sticky like it always was. Daniel held his hand to his nose, smelled the fumes with closed eyes, and proceeded to give Daniella her new hairdue.

It came out beautiful. When Daniel returned to his original spot before the foot of the bed, the hair appeared longer than he thought. It dropped down past Daniella's chest to her waist.

"I love it," they said.

For a while they flirted. But, Daniel eventually asked her about her past. Something in her eyes told him she had a unique story.

Daniella told Daniel how she use to play tennis in high school, but broke her knee one year. All the other girls passed her in skill so she gave up. After graduation she took a gap year until her parents said she either had to move out or go to college. So, she went to the University of Wyoming. (Daniel didn't mention a word of his experience; what if it pushed her away?) Once she finished her B.A. in art, she moved to L.A. and began painting city walls and power boxes. The city paid her to do it. "Basic walls and power boxes turned into colorful, various depctions of her imagination" was how she described it. Daniel told her it that was the heart of art. They laughed. Then she asked him about his story.

Her hair looked like it had finally dried. He got on the bed and tested it. It had dried. "How about," Daniel said, "I tell you all about me at my place?"

She agreed.

Daniel removed her from the wall. He nearly lost grip of her, but got her to the floor and leaned her against the wall. He put his socks back on, closed the paint and put it on Molly's dresser beside her favorite red lipstick. After that, he started sliding Daniella from Molly's room.

When he got her down to the bottom of the stairs, he heard a voice yell, "Dude, I'll just be a sec." The front door clicked, then opened too wide and too fast.

Daniella screamed. Molly screamed, none of that red lipstick on her face.

Daniel couldn't feel his stomach. "Calm down!"

Molly sprinted down her pathway, her poke-a-dot Jansport backpack slipping off her shoulder. She dialed someone.

Daniel started forward to stop her. Before he made it off the bottom stair and to the front door, there was a shatter. Daniel turned around. "No, no, no, no," Daniel muttered. It was Daniella. He kneeled beside her. She was crying.

Dev yelled from the china cabinet, "You deserve it!"

Daniel picked up a piece of Daniella's hair. Now, they were both weeping.

Molly's young voice was fading off in the distance along with footsteps. "My neighbor's in my house. He has a weapon!" Then, Daniel watched her get into her boyfriend's truck and the two sped off.

#fiction #literary fiction #literaryfiction #sadness #multiple personality disorder #psychology #psychological disorder #short story #shortstory #unresolved

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