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cescalr · 6 years

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The Beacon Hills Diet (Does Not Include Cannibalism, Thanks.)

Alternatively titled: What the Fuck, Santa Clarita?

Because really, what the fuck.

AO3 LINK

Chapter 1: Like two realtors, one of which is undead.

There’s a dead body (chopped into various parts and packaged neatly into different containers) in the Hammond’s freezer,

Stiles is so fucking done with all these idiots’ shit, and they’re denying that they’ve done anything wrong, and he’s so fucking angry because they don’t get it, they don’t feel guilty, and that shit eats you alive (pardon the accidental pun, he’s still not used to the whole cannibal thing) and they don’t get how terrible it is that they don’t feel like the worst fucking beings on the whole of planet fucking earth -

“I killed someone!” Stiles burst out, angry and frustrated and so, so tired. He just wanted them to understand.

There was a significant pause – Stiles didn’t know whether or not there were crickets around here or whatever, but since he’s inside a house and unlike most of his – most of those back in Beacon Hills, he can’t hear that sort of shit… because you need to be outside, you know.

“Oh.” Joel let out after another moment’s pause.

“Were – were they bad?” Sheila asked, hesitantly. It sounded hesitant to Stiles’ ears, anyway. “Because we only kill bad people – and only because I need to eat them.” She added, blunt and from what he’s seen, blatantly, truthful.

Seen blatantly because you don’t really expect to open someone’s freezer and find bags of frozen body parts. That was – unexpected.

“Oh… for fuck’s sake,” Abby sighed from her place at the doorway – or, entry point and, yeah, that about sums the whole thing up.

For fuck’s sake.

Let’s backtrack a bit.

So – it all starts in the rain.

“You killed him?” Scott asked Stiles, and Stiles couldn’t deny that fact. He’s lied a lot, recently – admittedly, mostly out of a fear of what this very person would think. Alongside his Sheriff dad, of course.

Stiles doesn’t know what his dad would do. He thinks – he hopes, he thinks he hopes he knows that his dad wouldn’t…. turn him in, at least, arrest him, but…

Stiles can’t deal with the thought of his dad reacting in any way at all, be it a ‘good’ reaction or a bad one. He most definitely won’t be able to take the reality… so he cheated. Copped out. Never told him, and left before Scott could.

Left before he could tell anyone. Stiles couldn’t, but… but Scott could. Because Scott wasn’t the one who stared at a guy and held the beam in his chest as he died, right in front of him. Scott wasn’t that person, wasn’t – wasn’t the type to just… stand there as someone died when he could have done something.

“You killed Donovan?” Scott clarified, but he’s holding the wrench and – and –

“Where did you get that?” Stiles asked, and maybe it sounded dangerous or maybe not, he can’t tell because he can’t think – was – who – where did he leave it last who had it last who found it fuck fuck fuck was it Theo –

God, if Stiles didn’t hate himself for Donovan, Theo would be dead.

“Is this yours?” Scott asked. Stiles took it from him, the wrench, and stared at the bloodstain. More of a splatter, really, but it’s in there forever – or, well, the rain isn’t washing it away. He didn’t clean it in time. And – fuck, he’s a really bad murderer, didn’t even get rid of the evidence.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Scott asked, and there are so many reasons –

You seem a little off –

I think we’re all a little off –

think I might have stopped her –

maybe she had no choice -

There’s gotta be a point where self-defence is justified –

They're not the bad guys. They're the victims. We shouldn't be killing the people we're trying to save –

“I was going to,” Stiles said, or maybe that was to “Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

Either way…. “I couldn’t,” Stiles responded, at some point or another, to a similar question. The whole mess is a blur, really, that night in the rain. Too much – just… too much.

And once Scott went into the vet, Stiles got in his car. Punched the steering wheel, and it stung for a moment but it passed, and then he drove.

And drove.

And drove

And kept driving.

Stiles didn’t realise he’d left Beacon Hills until he found himself waking in his car on some back road with a sore neck and a vague recollection of an argument in the rain. Over the time he’d spent driving a mostly broken jeep without once having it break down or simply crashing because he wasn’t thinking about driving but rather –

We can’t kill people! Do you believe that?

No, nope, drive some more.

And so he did.

He drove.

And Drove.

And kept driving.

At some point, Stiles ditched his phone. He had enough money for a cheapo burner which he knows the company behind won’t record the voicemails of, had enough money for a shitty burger at a shitty roadside diner near some stupid fucking attraction of The World’s Largest Blah-Blah-Blah, and then he was on the road again. He still wasn’t thinking, and that was bad, but he wasn’t dwelling, either, which was good.

Dwelling while out here, on the back roads and highways and away from most forms of human contact and all reminders of his past life except for the bag of lacrosse gear in his backseat and a wallet with some ID (thank god) and some money, and, oh yeah, a picture of everyone including himself and his dad (the pack, but he’s left home, so it’s not his pack anymore, and well, was it ever really his or was it not and was he just being an idiot would they all have thought it murder did nobody think it was self-defence except fucking Theo was Stiles just deluding himself he went towards Josh’s dead and ripped-out-throat-ed body way too fucking easily and looking at gruesome crime scene pictures in class is not normal, why did he ever think that was okay –)

He threw that away at some point, too. Or, at least, he ripped himself out of the image and folded the rest then shoved it into the back of his glove compartment, never to be looked at again (or so he promised himself at the time, that wasn’t the case, of course, and he kind of wishes he’d never damaged it).

And then Stiles got back on the road.

And drove.

And kept driving.

“He was bad,” Stiles allows, and he feels like a child saying that. A bad man – was he a man? He seemed so young when the life bled out of him – tried to hurt me. I promise I didn’t mean to.

“Was he a young single Hitler?” Sheila asked. “Because it’s always a good thing, killing them. Nobody to care about their death, and, well, one less Hitler.”

“Uhm… no,” Stiles let out. “He attacked me in the school library and ended up with a beam sticking out of his sternum.”

“Holy shit,” Abby said. “Jesus.”

Joel smiled nervously, tilting his head. Stiles had always found that expression, ever since this strange family decided the homeless eighteen-year-old on the sidewalk should sleep in their basement (not creepy behaviour at all, by the way), slightly unnerving.

Now, since he knows the man usually reserves it for times of murder talk or covering up, well. It’s more than a little unnerving.

“Now how did that happen?” Joel said, somewhat pleasantly (if you can call this conversation pleasant in any way – Stiles, by the way, does not have that capacity) and yet somewhat, it still had that sense of ‘what the fuck?’ that Joel usually delivered his words with in times like this.

“There was scaffolding holding it up,” Stiles admitted, heavily. “And I pulled the pin that was holding the scaffolding together. Boom, dead.” He gestured, vaguely.

“Well, if he attacked you, he deserved it,” Sheila said, succinctly.

“Sounds like self-defence to me.” Abby agreed.

“Abby, please attempt to only incapacitate, not kill,” Joel told his daughter, still nervously smiling at Stiles. “Learn from our words, not from our actions.” Sheila agreed. “Wait. No, learn from neither of those.”

Abby sighed, put-upon. “And they call this parenting,” She shook her head, took an apple from the fruit basket, and left the room. “I’m gonna go get Eric!” She called back, and then the front door slammed shut behind her.

“I wish she’d stop slamming the door,” Joel sighed.

“I know,” Sheila agreed. “It’s not like we raised her in a barn.”

“Just a slaughterhouse,” Joel continued, tone vague. Stiles couldn’t place it.

“Well, that’s great and all,” Stiles said. “But how about we get back to the part where you kill and eat people and how that’s not okay?”

“You just don’t want it to be okay because if it’s okay you can stop with your manpain,” Sheila stated. “You brood.”

“No, I do not.” Stiles denied, vaguely horrified. If he’s turning into Derek, so help him, he will bash his own brains out and serve himself on a silver platter. Might as well not waste since she’s a cannibal and all.

“What do you call sitting on the bed not sleeping and staring off into the distance?” Joel asked, seemingly genuinely curious.

“Thinking,” Stiles said annoyed. “I’m thinking.”

“All night?” Sheila asked. “You sleep less than I do, and I’m dead!”

Okay, yeah, he will admit that that’s probably a problem. Possibly.

“Look,” Joel said, placing his hands on the table, flat against the surface. “Stiles. You killed a man that tried to hurt you. It’s self-defence; it was necessary. We kill awful people who do awful things because if we don’t, my wife will starve and die. And also maybe possibly go feral and start eating non-evil people, which would most certainly be bad and if you do that, please turn yourself into the police and keep our names out of it.”

Stiles flailed, something he’s managed to keep a lid on for quite a while. But this family’s sheer ridiculousness brings it out in him, sometimes. “I’m not going to eat someone!”

“You might,” Sheila said. “Never eat these clams,” She added, holding up a clam sealed in a square of plastic. Like you find preserved spiders and shit in. “They kill you and make you undead.” The woman explained, frankly.

“But they were blown up,” Joel said, “So you should be fine. So long as you don’t go to Serbia.”

Sheila nodded, seriously.

“I never planned on it,” Stiles said. “So I’ll just keep that on my list of things, yeah? Never go to Serbia and eat clams which will make me a cannibal undead zombie?”

“Ouch.” Sheila frowned. “That hurt.”

“Yeah, we don’t like that word?” Joel offered. “It sounds offensive.”

“Are you serious?” Stiles asked, deadpan. “No, of course, you are.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re you.”

“I feel like that’s supposed to mean something.” Sheila mused.

“I feel like we should be offended,” Joel said, lightly, not sounding offended at all.

“Oh, fuck off,” Stiles said. “I’m the one who found partially eaten dead body parts in your freezer! I’ve been scarred for life!”

“No, you haven’t.” Joel looked at Stiles, weirdly. “If you forgot, you literally just told us that you killed someone. If anyone did the mental scarring, it wasn’t us.” Sheila agreed.

“Not quite what I was going for…” Joel said, slightly awkwardly. “But okay.”

“We’re back!” Abby announced, apple nowhere in sight and now replaced with an Eric. She shoved Eric forward slightly then took her own seat.

“Hi,” Eric said, awkward as ever. He’s worse than Stiles was when he was sixteen, worse than Scott before the bite, worse than them pre-supernatural combined, and that’s really saying something.

And yet, he’s cool with cannibals. Some people have strange depths. Can’t punch a guy, can help hide a murder.

“So,” Eric said. He stopped there, of course, smiled awkwardly then stopped doing that and glanced at all four of the other people in the room in turn. “What’s… going on?” He asked.

“Stiles found out we kill people,” Sheila admitted. “It’s no big deal since apparently, he killed someone too.”

“It’s rather a big deal and I beg to differ,” Stiles returned, annoyed. “You eat people!”

“And you killed someone and wasted the dead body,” Sheila offered. “We’re doing better than you.”

Stiles flailed again. “What the fuck?” He gestured.

“I ask that question every day. At least twice.” Joel commented. “The answer usually only comes to me when I’m high, though.”

“Can we stop talking about your marijuana habit and return to the fact that all of you are totally okay with cannibalism and murder?”

“You think we’re okay with it?” Abby said, incredulous.

“Yes, I’d rather prefer the stress of not having to lie to our cop neighbours,” Joel said, “Who are also our very good friends.” Joel paused, and sighed, saddened. “Ex-friends, in some cases.”

Sheila patted her husband’s shoulder, commiserating.

“Yeah, you tend to lose friends when you make murder a habit,” Stiles said, sharply.

“You would know, right?” Abby retorted. “Given that you’re making a home for yourself in our basement.”

“Be glad that Anne likes us now,” Sheila said. “Or there’d be questions.”

“Having a devout Christian sheriff’s deputy as a friend is honestly more useful than I’d originally expected,” Joel commented. “It all worked out in the end.”

“Of course, it did.” Stiles snapped. “Because it’s all hunky-dory here in Santa Clarita! Ignore the cannibals and the dead undead!” He mocked.

“Your home isn’t much better,” Abby retorted, annoyed and vaguely angry. She got angry pretty easy, he’d noted. But she meant well.

“Yeah, from what you’ve said – which is still very little,” Joel added, leadingly, “It doesn’t sound the best.”

Stiles snorted, “Both places are awful. But at least there are clear ‘good’ guys there, unlike here.”

“Sometimes superheroes are the people you’d least expect,” Sheila said. “Like two realtors, one of which is undead.”

“And their daughter,” Abby added. “Can’t forget her.”

“Do I count?” Eric asked. “Or am I more like a sidekick?”

“If anything, you’re the love interest to the sidekick – who, by the way, is me, and holds this whole damn operation together and don’t you forget it -,” Abby said, interjecting in her own sentence. “But you’re more like… the useful potential love interest best friend who helps out more than you’d expect.”

“I’m cool with that.” Eric decided.

“Great,” Stiles said, “Now we’ve all decided our positions in life –“

“I’m Alfred,” Joel said, vaguely sadly. Stiles ignored him.

“- I’m going to go somewhere and think about this.”

“Could that somewhere be our basement?” Sheila asked.

“… no,” Stiles said. “What the fuck.”

“You willingly sleep down there!” Abby said.

“Because I’ve got nowhere else!” Stiles returned, angry. It was a sore subject.

“Oh.” She paused. “Right.”

“I’m going out-“ Stiles said and pointed warningly at them. “And if you try anything, I’m going to give in and call my dad.”

“What’s that going to accomplish?” Joel asked.

“He’s a sheriff,” Stiles said. “And if that’s not enough, I’ll call in Scott’s dad.”

“Again,” Sheila started, “What’s that going to accomplish?”

“He’s an FBI agent,” Stiles said. “And I have blackmail. He owes us a fair few favours.”

“That would be bad,” Sheila said.

“Oh, and if you kill me,” Stiles said. “They’ll know.”

“How?” Joel asked.

“Yeah that… doesn’t really make much sense.” Eric added.

“Trust me,” Stiles said. “If they still care… they’ll know. Like losing a limb.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sheila admitted. “Does anyone else?”

“You’re all idiots,” Stiles said. “You think zombies are the only thing kicking about?” Stiles scoffed. “Use your heads.”

Scott didn’t find out that Stiles had disappeared on them for a few days – and it was a few days too long. And so much shit happened – Theo messed up, they got Lydia out – or at least, Parrish did - Malia confessed to her plan with the Desert Wolf and then her plan to skip town after, start afresh somewhere new, Braeden revealed that she’s been helping Malia plan a trap that sounds like Stiles would find five hundred flaws in and three thousand ways in which it could go wrong, and Scott doesn’t know where Stiles is, so he can’t get him to do anything about it, but he couldn’t even if he knew because Scott told him not to worry about Lydia or Malia which really meant not to get involved because if he chose murder then no and Scott’s talked to the Sheriff and the Sheriff is practically tearing his hair out because his son never came to him, never came home that night or any nights after, and now Stiles is gone and Scott didn’t know.

Scott didn’t know he left the very same night as their argument. Scott didn’t know that that argument caused it. Not until now.

Not until he heard that voicemail.

“Hey, Scotty,” Stiles said. He sighed. “I’ve already sent one of these to my dad. Malia too. It’s… easier, I guess, to talk to them. Maybe it makes sense why. Talk at them, really, because none of you are talking back.”

Stiles shook his head. “My fault, that.” He admitted, freely, but he closed his eyes and then sighed after. It hurt to say, but it was true. “This old shitty phone I’ve got,” Stiles continued, changing the topic, “Doesn’t store voicemails. I’m also going to trash it after this. I can’t – I can’t afford to… well. You – Dad, someone, will probably track it if I don’t.”

Stiles paused, cleared his throat.

“That is if you wanted me not to be gone.” Stiles closed his eyes again and leaned against the wall. “I’m not gonna give you the chance to make that choice, though. Because sometimes, Scott, there isn’t a choice.”

Stiles paused.

“Just mistakes you regret. Things you wish you could change. I got a lot of those. Starting with mom and ending with leaving. I’m only gonna make more, because as we’ve established, I’m a complete fuck up, and it’s honestly surprising it took this long to realise that.”

Stiles scratched at his jaw, awkwardly. “I guess what I wanted to say,” He said. “Is that I’m sorry.”

Stiles paused, again. “Sorry for everything. For dragging you into the woods that night, for all the lies, for Allison, for Donovan and Josh – who you don’t know about, by the way, and I guess I might as well tell you that Theo killed him so he wouldn’t kill me, then the bastard blackmailed me, the fucker, if I knew his number I’d give him a piece of my mind –“ (he does know his number and he is going to do so, of course, but what’s one more white lie?) “-but whatever.”

Stiles shook his head. “I guess you’re right. And that mom was right, all those years ago.”

Stiles swallowed. “I’m a killer.” He said, and the words felt wrong but they were true, all the same. “But I’m not a monster. And even if I’m not a True Alpha, I can do the right thing occasionally.”

Stiles closed his eyes, blew out a slow breath. “I don’t know where I’m headed.” He said. “You’ll look even if I tell you not to, so I won’t. It’ll save me the disappointment.”

Stiles stared out the window of his motel room.

“At least give me a month’s head start, yeah?” Stiles asked, the corner of his lips quirking upwards. “And a bit morbidly echoing of my previously possessed self… Am ok. Please don’t look for me. But I won’t be back.”

Stiles sighed. “But this time… it really is from me. That wasn’t from me, you know? The nogitsune would have died that night if I had, I’m sure of it. But whatever. The point is… really, this time, please don’t look for me.” Stiles swallowed. “I know when it’s best to…”

Stiles sighed. “Who am I kidding? I know when I’m not needed. I know when I’m not wanted. I know when my presence will fuck everything up for everyone.”

Stiles shook his head. “I’m okay,” Stiles said. “I really am. And since this is goodbye – forever…” Stiles trailed off.

“I love ya, Scotty,” Stiles said. “Please don’t set Melissa on me if you do find me.”

And with that, Stiles ended the voicemail.

Santa Clarita was only supposed to be a pit stop for Stiles. He came here for some food and some rest, but it’s not far away enough. And it’s too busy, too much of a city, but it’s suburban enough that neighbours are nosy and people ask questions.

He was sitting on a bench on the sidewalk eating a burger when a girl dropped down onto the seat next to him. She was around Liam’s age – sixteen, give or take. It was only two years ago he was her age, but it feels like forever.

“You look new.” She said. “And you’ve been staring at either my house or nothing for the last half hour, not even eating your burger.”

The girl looked at him, expectantly. So maybe he’d been dwelling, what of it?

“I ate my curly fries.” Stiles defended.

“Why have you been staring at my house?” The girl demanded, ignoring him, rudely.

“I haven’t,” Stiles said. “I was just thinking.”

“Smells like manpain,” She said. “Lemme hear it.”

“I don’t-“ Stiles protested, “I’m not Derek.”

“Whoever this Derek is, is he part of your problem?” She asked.

Stiles snorted. “If you call abandoning town when his friends need him to not be fucking useless and broody for once in his later years part of my problem, then yeah.”

Stiles had always found it easier to talk to strangers or people he didn’t like. After all, he didn’t exactly care one whit about what they think of him.

“Sounds lame,” She said. “I’d hit him with a tray.”

“He’d deserve it,” Stiles said. “I cannot count the number of times he used to resort to physical violence against my very innocent person. It was rude. Of course, he did it to everyone, but I was very fragile at sixteen.”

“Interesting.” She said. “How old is this guy?”

“I have no idea,” Stiles said. “And I have no idea where he plus I don’t care, so I never asked and I will never ask.”

“Fair.” She said. “If he was an adult hitting teenagers, though, we’ve got a problem.”

“He’s not so bad, really,” Stiles said. “I mean, I don’t care much for the guy but Scott does and I respect him enough to care whether Derek lives or dies, you know? And we saved each other’s lives a few times – I’m still higher on the amount than him, I think – which are enough times that I trust him not to kill me.”

“It sounds like the people you hang around with aren’t the best.” The girl said.

“No, they’re great,” Stiles said, meaning it. “I’m the one who’s not great. S’why I left.”

“I see.” She said. “And what are your plans?”

“Move around.” He said. “Travel the country. An… an extended road trip that lasts my whole life, if you will.”

Maybe he’ll get eaten by a wendigo, or possessed again, or even turned and go Omega and feral and then be killed by a hunter. It’d be his luck, really.

“Sounds lonely.” She said. The girl looked at him, assessing. “What happened?”

“I can’t really say,” Stiles said, apologetically. “I mean…. It was bad.”

“And nobody stood by you?”

“If you count blackmail, then technically,” Stiles said, bitterly. “But I never got around to telling anyone. He just… found out.”

The one person who Stiles just knew could never know, and Scott found out. And Theo blackmailed Stiles, and Stiles is so fucking done.

The girl sat there, quietly, for a moment.

“You gonna eat that?” She asked.

Stiles looked down at his burger.

“No,” He said, sadly. He’d paid for this.

“Alright,” She said and took it from him. Yeah, sure, whatever. Let the kid have it.

There was silence for a bit as she munched away. Then…

“Something happened to my mom.” She said. “And we stood by her.” She glanced at him. “She’s ill,” The girl gestured, in a vague way. “I guess.” The girl paused again, stared at the burger like it would give her all the answers she needed at this moment.

Stiles felt a pang of empathy.

“I get you,” Stiles said. “It’s probably not the same,” Since his mom died and she’s acting like she’s still alive, using the present tense and all, “But I get you.”

The girl snorted. “It’s definitely not the same.” She said. “The illness is Serbian. Came here through some bad clams.” The girl looked at him, deadly serious. “Never eat at Japopo’s.”

“Alright,” Stiles agreed.

“Or anywhere that still has Ruby’s Clams in stock,” She added, still serious. “They’re infected.”

“Well I don’t like clams,” Stiles said, “So…”

The girl nodded, satisfied. “Good.” She said, and that was that. She finished eating her burger and stood up.

Stiles didn’t really have anywhere to go or anything to do – he’d left his jeep at the auto repair shop, and he’d walked here, and it’d be most of the day to fix that mess of a car.

He has the money – just enough. This guy is much better than the one that died back in Beacon. He feels bad about thinking that, but there’s nothing he can really do about it. Since he was, y’know, murdered, and all.

(Right in front of him. That wasn’t fun to watch.)

The girl stares at him for a moment. It’s slightly unnerving, and he fidgets a little.

“You need a shower.” She said. “My parents are weird, they’ll let you borrow ours.”

And with that, she grabs his arm and drags him into the house across the street. He could protest, but he can’t really be bothered.

“Also, our neighbours are cops,” She said. “One’s a sheriff’s deputy –” Another pang, this time of pain and regret (not that the empathy pang wasn’t tinged with that, too) “- and the other’s Santa Monica police.”

“Alright,” Stiles said. Yeah, staying here would be a bad idea.

“So,” She continued, “You don’t wanna be caught loitering. Rick’s nice but Anne’s intense.” She paused. “If you say you work with mom and dad – Sheila and Joel – she’d get off your back about it, though.”

“Uhm, why?” Stiles asked.

“They’re good friends,” She shrugged. “Help each other out with… stuff.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, awkwardly.

“Mom!” the girl shouted. “Dad!”

Two people – an older man with dark brown hair and eyes and a woman with honey blonde hair and hazel eyes. The girl’s parents, then.

“Honey,” The man said, “Why is there a stranger in our house?”

“I found a stray.” The girl said. “In desperate need of a shower and some sleep.”

Was it that obvious? Probably. Stiles hasn’t bothered to check.

He does take offence at being called a stray, though.

“He does look a bit under the weather.” The woman says. “And the bathrooms free so…”

“Well,” The girl grins, claps her hands. “It’s upstairs, not hard to find.”

The man tilts his head and smiles. It looks nervous.

“Of course,” He said. “Let’s let the stranger into our bathroom.”

Stiles does agree, though.

“I didn’t wander in,” He finds the need to defend himself. “I was perfectly happy sitting on a bench outside and eating my burger.”

“Which you weren’t going to eat and would have been a waste.” The girl says. “So I took his burger and in payment, he gets to use our bathroom and maybe nap in the basement.”

That doesn’t sound vaguely worrisome at all.

“Please clarify for the guy with anxiety what exactly you mean by me going down into your basement?” Stiles asked.

“We have a bed down there,” The woman says. “Its better than a couch.”

“I’ll give you that!” The man says, brightly, but he still looks nervous and strained. Honestly, he looks like what Stiles feels like a lot of the time. Stiles guesses he’s just better at hiding it.

“Now, before dad can weird you out any more than he already has,” The girl says, “I’m Abby, these are my weird parents, the bathroom is upstairs.”

Stiles nodded. After a beat, he grimaced and wandered on up the staircase.

What the fuck is his life, honestly.

“Why did you bring a stranger into our house, which I might remind you, still has your mother’s leftovers inside the fridge?” Joel asked, slightly desperate sounding.

“Just relax, smoke some weed,” Abby said, easily, “I’ve got it all under control.”

“How old is he?” Sheila asked, frowning at the staircase he’d disappeared up. “Like, really, could you tell?”

“Anywhere from eighteen to twenty-five,” She said. “Maybe older. Kinda looks like those actors that TV thinks actually resemble teenagers but... nope. They don't.”

Joel nodded, distantly.

“Why did you bring him into our house, Abby?” Sheila asked.

“Because he was alone,” She admitted, after a moment. “Because he’d had that burger for half an hour and hadn’t eaten it. Because he’d left home for reasons omitted which included something terrible that the people around him couldn’t support.”

“Which means he could be my next meal?” Sheila offered.

“No,” Abby said, annoyed. “Which means he’s like you without us, mom.”

“Oh.” Sheila paused as if she was thinking about that. After a moment, she looked saddened. “We’re keeping him,” She said, decidedly.

“He’s not a pet,” Joel said, exasperated. “Can you not?”

“Nope,” Abby said. “Face it, dad, we’re taking in strays.”

“Why.” Joel sighed. “Just… why.” But really, Abby knew he wasn’t against it. If mom hadn’t had them… god. If this guy had something similar but not quite as extreme happen to him, then maybe they could help. After all, not killing him immediately is an improvement, and really, helping someone ought to balance out all the death – even if it is usually of people who deserve said death. Like young single Hitlers.

Even the ones in wheelchairs.

“So,” Malia said. “Stiles is gone.”

Scott nodded. Malia pursed her lips but didn’t say anything – she didn’t need to. Scott could smell it, and he placed a hand on her arm and squeezed, lightly. “We’ll get him back,” He promised.

“He doesn’t want to be gotten back.” She returned. “You heard him.”

“He’s hurting.”

“And whose fault is that?” She snapped, then sighed, and closed her eyes briefly.

“Mine,” Scott said.

“No.” She shook her head. “Ours. All of ours. His, too, for being an idiot that never tells us things he really should.”

Scott allowed the slightest of quirks upwards to his lips.

Malia nodded. “We need to give him time.” She said.

“… One month,” Scott said. “The Sheriff’s tracking his trail – he’s not really leaving one, but since it’s the Sheriff’s kid people are quicker to tell him the truth about his missing son. Anyway – he’s gonna keep an eye on where he is. If he surfaces in a month, we’ll go looking.”

Malia nodded again and squeezed his arm in return.

“Things are only gonna get worse,” She said, bluntly. “My mom’s gonna be here soon, Theo’s building his pack and planning something big, the beast is still out there and we still don’t know who it is, and Stiles is missing on his own terms.”

“At least we’ve got Lydia,” Scott said.

“And we’re losing Kira.” Malia retorted.

“What’s your point?” Scott asked, a little quiet. He didn’t want to think about that.

“I’m leaving when my mom is dead.” She said. “Beacon Hills has made it’s point; it doesn’t want us here.”

Scott waited as she paused to collect her thoughts.

“After my mom’s dead,” She said, “I’m inviting all of you to come with me. We’ll look for Stiles, sure, but it’s mostly to get away.”

“You’re not going to kill her,” Scott said. “I can’t-“

“You can’t have another of your friends be a murderer?” Malia sked. “I get that. I do. But Stiles didn’t murder Donovan.”

“What?” Scott asked.

“You never asked. I never asked. None of us ever asked.” She paused. “We should have. We know Stiles, he’d never tell us anything he thinks he has to keep a secret.”

Scott nodded, slowly.

“There was a bite on his shoulder,” Malia said. “A scar. It looked painful.”

Scott remembered Stiles wincing, rubbing at his shoulder and claiming various injuries.

“You knew?” HE asked. Malia nodded. “I guessed.” She said. “He never got around to telling anyone and I never got around to asking him because everything was going so badly, and I couldn’t figure out the words that wouldn’t make it worse.”

“What?” Scott asked, bewildered.

“We were breaking apart,” She said, and there’s a sadness she’s too good at hiding.

“All of us,” She added, “But… I know we were headed to a break-up. And… I didn’t want to speed that along.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott said.

“No.” She shook her head. “I am. And Stiles is. But none of that’s really anything to do with you.”

She gave him steely eyes, and he winced. “But if you tell my boyfriend not to worry about me ever again, I will break your kneecaps.”

“You didn’t break up?” Scott asked, wincing.

“We did.” She said. “I just refuse to accept being broken up with over a phone call. If he’s going to do it, he’s doing it in person – and then, at that point, will I move on.”

“Why?” Scott asked.

“I never said it,” She said. “He never said it.”

“Oh,” Scott said.

“But he said it on the voicemail.” She admitted, tone slightly softer. “And I’m not giving up on our happiness. Not ever.”

Scott nodded, slowly.

“So even though things are only gonna get worse from here,” Malia said. “You gotta keep going. Because Stiles is out there, somewhere, and he needs some sense knocking into him.”

“Maybe not literally,” Scott says, but he’s smiling slightly.

“We didn’t exactly have the best first second meeting,” Malia said, “I punched him. If he can handle that, slapping him once for being an ass should be fine.”

“why did you punch him?” Scott asked.

“I didn’t wanna be human and it was easier to blame him for that than blame myself for my family’s death,” She said. “Don’t worry, I’d never actually hurt him.”

Scott nodded. “I didn’t think you would.”

“Explains the shock,” She says, but she’s smiling a little. “Come on, Scott.” She said. “Let’s go find Kira.”

“Malia.”

Malia turned around and glared at the Chimera. All their problems started with his arrival, and now she knows why, and it just hurts. She’d nearly trusted him, even though she didn’t like him (but she had liked him too much, really, and now she knows that that was just the werecoyote part of him she cared for) and he’d ruined everything she’d tried to build over the months she’s been back.

She just wanted to graduate. She just wanted to graduate and go to college (maybe) and date her boyfriend and hang out with the pack and be somewhat normal and maybe even eventually go to therapy. That’s it. She just wanted to grow, to become an adult, to not have any more death and pain and darkness in her life.

But here, standing in the hall so she can’t attack him, is the source of all their newfound problems.

“Theo.” She returned, coolly.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Theo asked.

“No.” She growled lightly. “What do you want?”

“I have some information you might need,” He said, and he’s smirking like he always is.

“Like what?” She asked, warily.

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to Stiles,” He said. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t want all of you dead. Just Scott.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Malia demanded.

“You weren’t my first choice,” Theo admitted, freely. “But my first choice skipped town. So, I have some information, and a bargain to make.”

“Which is?” She prodded.

“I’ll help you with your mother,” He smirked. “And you’ll help me find Stiles.”

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I think he’ll want to know something eventually,” Theo said. “Part of my plan, as it were. And he’s going to want to know it badly. Otherwise, someone’s going to die.”

Helpful. Fuck this guy, really.

“Who?” She demands.

“Depends on his decision.” Theo shrugs. “It’s a choice of two – and, don’t worry. You aren’t one of them.”

“Comforting,” She snapped.

“I imagine it is,” He said, ignoring her sarcasm. “Because I have a feeling between his father and anyone, he’d always pick the former.”

Malia stared as he walked past, as the bell rang, and as he turned the corner and disappeared from her sight.

She growled and punched a locker, shaking and angry. Lydia and Scott found her like that, staring at the locker she’d punched. They pull her out of sight, down a corridor, and into a classroom.

She tells them what Theo had told her, full well knowing he’d probably wanted her to. And would have a plan if he hadn’t.

That night, Theo shows up at her house.

“What do you want?” She snapped.

“I’m giving you the information.” He said. “I give you info, and help you with your mother, and you come with me to find Stiles – as both bait and a bargaining chip.”

“Of course,” She snarled. “You would.”

“I have plans,” He said. “I’m not letting someone’s free will ruin them.”

“What are your plans?” She snapped.

“I was gonna tell Stiles,” He said. “Bring out the void. Get him to snap. But he’s not here, and I don’t really care much about doing that to you since you’ve already done it to yourself.”

She’s going to kill her mother. It’s not fun that Theo agrees with that choice, but there’s nothing else she can do.

“The claws will kill her no matter what you do,” Theo says, changing the subject. “So just take everything that you can and then some.”

Malia nodded, slowly.

“I had Donovan tail Stiles to the edge of Cali,” He said. “And don’t worry, he was under very strict orders. If he’d done anything, trust me, I’d have done worse than kill him.”

“Why do you care?” She demanded, exploded out with.

“That’s private,” He warned. “But… I suppose I can tell you what I was going to tell him.

“I came for a pack,” He starts, “For the werecoyote who’s first instinct is to kill,” He grins slightly at her, eyes sharp. “For the banshee, the girl surrounded by death, for the beta with anger issues, the dark kitsune.” He took a short pause. “I came for Void! Stiles – that is the pack that I want.”

He smirked, slightly. Malia punched him in the face.

“You will leave my best friends and my boyfriend alone.” She threatened.

“Or what?” He asked. “You’ll kill me? That just proves my point, and you’ll never find Stiles.”

Why would I need you to find Stiles?”

“Because I might have had Donovan follow him further than out of Cali,” Theo said, then spat out some blood and cracked his nose back into place from where it had healed broken. “I know where he is. You’re just coming as… insurance, shall we say. An incentive to come back when I tell him to.”

“You’re not giving him a choice.” She said.

“Of course, I am,” Theo said. “You die or he returns. That’s a choice.”

“You said I wasn’t part of the two he had to choose between.”

“You aren’t,” Theo said. “Change of plans. The sheriff isn’t going to nearly die.”

“Why?” She asked. “Why change your plans?”

“Because,” Theo shrugged. “It’s too risky. If Noah died, well….” There was a flicker of emotion across his face that Malia didn’t recognise, but she knew the scent well.

“He’d never agree to join me. And then everything falls through.”

“Fine.” She snapped. “You help me with my mom, and with Stiles, which in turn helps you get access to the claws after I’ve used them, and –” She snarled in disgust. “Whatever it is you want with us.”

“Deal.” He smiles. It’s a lot like a deal with the devil, and really, it is one, and Malia just hopes it’s not going to blow up in her face quite as spectacularly as she’s expecting.

Donovan is stupid, of course, Theo knows that. Maybe not academically – he’s never checked – but he’s so much of a fucking idiot it makes Theo angry and itch to do something violent towards the man in question.

How old is Donovan again?

Whatever.

The point is, that Theo knows if Donovan tried anything, Stiles would beat him. All the chimeras that came back from the dead – they’re a little off, resilience wise, but not enough to worry about unless dealing with someone like Stiles or Malia or Lydia.

Scott wouldn’t kill them, so the point is moot for him, and Kira wouldn’t kill them unless the fox took over and at that point, it isn’t really her anyway, so the point is moot there. Liam isn’t trained enough and he’s too young still, really, so he doesn’t count, either.

Anyway – Stiles would beat Donovan. He wouldn’t beat Josh or Tracey or Hayden (not that Hayden truly listens to Theo, which is… frustrating) but he could beat Donovan, and now that’s he’s convinced he’s a murderer anyway thanks to Scott’s wonderful reaction and Theo’s own subtle manipulations, well, all is going to plan. If he kills Donovan, that just confirms it, and if Donovan tries literally anything on Stiles, Theo can bring Stiles back and hurt Donovan in ways Donovan probably doesn’t even think are possible.

(Theo’s not stupid. He’s got quite a bit of the serum hidden away.)

Nobody ruins Theo’s plans and gets away with it. But Stiles hasn’t exactly ruined his plans – they just need a little adjusting, and besides…

It makes things interesting.

#Mine. all mine | My Post #.txt | Text Post #fanfiction #santa clarita diet #teen wolf #scott #joel #sheila #(I've been spelling it #shelia #lmao)#abby #eric #malia #theo #etc #AU - Fusion

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mysurveys · 6 years

Text

Random Qs

Survey #7 on the Countdown to 2019!

Since my last survey I’ve been sick, busy, lazy... It’s been a long time, but I felt up to doing another right now. I’m not promising any more as a follow up to this tonight, though. I’ve been too into anime lately.

Air Conditioning - At what level or temperature is it on today?

I don't know exactly. It's usually on 68-70, though.

Pet - Where does your pet sleep at night?

Our dog Chloe sleeps on my parents' bed and my cats will be in the house or outside at night.

Laptop - Is it in your lap, on the table, or somewhere else and is it charging?

It's on a table in our living room and it's charging.

Smartphone - Who do you only use your smartphone to talk to without texting or otherwise?

I still don't own or want a smartphone. It’s not something I require because I hate talking on the phone and I'm not interested in texting.

If I go out then I like being unplugged so I can live my life. Being obsessed with some kind of tech is a codependency I really don't need.

Pillows - How many pillows do you actually use while sleeping, not just on your bed?

I'll use two for sleeping every night.

Candles - What's your favorite scent that you own and how often do you light it?

I prefer LED tealights, especially since I have cats. Scented items usually bother me too. I'm allergic to a lot of things.

Cigarettes - Who in your house smokes?

My father used to smoke off our property when he was stressed, but he hasn't done that in years to my knowledge.

My mother and I would never tolerate someone smoking in our house. That shit can kill you, including secondhand smoke.

Couch - How many people could sit comfortably on it?

We only have a love-seat in our living room. My parents and I only have recliners in the den. Mine is extra-spacious.

Glasses - Who wears glasses in your house and are they near or farsighted?

I wear glasses daily because I'm nearsighted and I can't wear contacts. Both of my parents will sometimes use cheap reading glasses, though. They're over 65 now, so their vision isn't as good as it used to be.

Toothpaste - What brand do you like best?

I have to use Sensodyne. My teeth are sensitive to hot, cold and sweet items. My whole body is hypersensitive.

Pencils - Do you prefer using regular or mechanical pencils?

I'd rather just use a pen, but I'll use either of those if they're available.

Coffee Mug - What kind of hot beverage do you drink the most?

I’ll mostly drink coffees that I make at home, although I'll drink ryokucha (green tea) too.

Television - What's your favorite television channel and what're the best shows on it?

My go-to channels are Investigation Discovery and The Weather Channel lately. I'm partial to A Crime To Remember and Evil Lives Here on ID right now, but TWC is something I watch no matter what's on.

The actual weather reports in the morning during AMHQ are really soothing to me and I like So You Think You’d Survive? and SOS: How To Survive.

Chap-stick - Do you get chapped lips a lot, and when was the last time you had them?

I don't often get chapped lips, but it occasionally happens in the winter. It happened sometime during the winter, probably before the new year.

Musical Instrument - What instrument is your favorite and what's your favorite song on it?

If I'm going to listen to only one instrument then I'd choose the ocarina. I like the drums, guitar, piano, harp. It's still better for music to be played with multiple instruments, though.

Trashcan - Whose responsibility is it to take out the trash at your house?

My father often does it, but sometimes I'll do it for him.

Plants - What kind of plants do you have in your house and how often are they watered?

We don't keep any plants.

Hair Dryer - Who in your family has the longest hair and how long is it?

My parents have very short hair, so mine is the longest. It's a bit passed my shoulders right now.

Chocolate - What kind is better, milk, dark or white?

I prefer white, but I'll also eat dark chocolate sometimes. My faves are Hershey's Cookies & Creme Drops if I'm having a real treat, or just the sugar-free Russell Stover Dark Chocolate Medallions.

Shoes - The last time you went out, what shoes did you wear?

My Wolverine hiking shoes. They're the best I've ever owned. I like sturdy footwear that encompasses my feet.

DVD Player - What do you have more of, VHS tapes or DVDs?

I think I tossed out all my personal VHS tapes years ago. I mostly have DVDS, but I’ve got some Blu-Ray discs too

Insects - When you find an unwanted insect inside of your house, do you kill it, take it outside, or leave it alone?

If it's just an insect then I prefer to put it outside if it doesn't have a stinger. If I find a lizard then I'm the same way.

But if I spot a spider, I'm going to try killing it because those can be dangerous. I can't really spot the difference, so it's better to just be safe.

Spiders are specifically arachnids and not insects, though. I'm not lumping them together, but some people call them "bugs" just because the word evokes the image of a pest that bugs them.

Obviously lizards are reptiles, but they're common here. That's why I had to mention them too. They often get into our house through the garage.

Razor - What are all the areas of your body that you shave?

I don't constantly shave, but I'll take the hair off my legs, arms and armpits if I feel like it. I won’t use razors, though.

Webcam - When you go on webcam, who do you chat with the most and do you use any specific sites or programs?

I don't use my webcam.

Refrigerator & Freezer - Does yours have an automatic ice cube maker, and do you prefer cubed or crushed ice?

We don't need one of those and we only use cubed ice. It's just that we rarely use ice at all.

Sunscreen - What SPF do you use?

I haven't used sunscreen in a long time, but if I do go outside for a while then I tend to stay in the shade. I burn so easily and I'm pretty allergic to a lot of things outside too.

It's been a big problem up until recently, but I've finally found a good allergy doctor now. Maybe I can go outside more soon.

Sibling - Do you get along with your siblings, and if you have more than one then which are you closest to?

I'm an only child.

Cereal - What kind of cereal is in your house right now, is it your favorite and if not then what is?

I think there's just some corn flakes. My fave is Cinnamon Toast Crunch even though I rarely eat that or any cereal.

Pain Relievers - What kind of pain reliever do you use when you have a headache?

We have some off-brand Tylenol with pain reliever. It's the only thing that really works, but if it's an allergy headache then I'll take one of those and a sinus pill of some kind as a decongestant.

Monopoly - When you play Monopoly, what game piece do you choose?

I haven't played in so long, but I used to pick the thimble or the dog the most. It’s been ages and I want to play again.

Now I’ve bought the Mario version since I’ve been having game nights with my mother, Miss Cindy and cousin Julie. We haven’t played it yet, though.

It’s got Mario, Peach, Yoshi and Donkey Kong. My preference would be Peach out of those followed closely by Yoshi, although you can buy others.

I would certainly love a Bowser, but my other faves from what’s available right now are the Boo, Tanooki Mario and Luigi figures. I’d say my number one is really the Boo figure, though. It’s my fave Mario baddie!

Bookshelf - What books, if any, have you read more than once?

I tend not to revisit books. I'm also much more fond of nonfiction.

Card Deck - What's your favorite card game?

The only one I really enjoy is Uno and I've got the Mario edition too.

Umbrella - Do you mind walking in the rain without one?

I really don't mind getting wet most of the time.

Mood Ring - What mood are you in right now?

I'm mostly good despite being pretty stiff since I woke up that way.

Hoodie - Do you prefer the kind with or without the zipper?

I'm good with zips and I like them more than pullovers.

Calendar - What's the picture on your calendar for this month?

The one in our kitchen is a Thomas Kinkade calendar. It's just some spring scene for May right now.

Pajamas - What do you usually wear to sleep in and are you comfortable falling asleep in jeans?

I would hate sleeping in jeans. My usual outfits are PJs, nightgowns or just a tee if it's hot out.

Backpack - Are you in school this year and if so, what grade are you in?

I'm turning 32 later this month, thanks.

Alarm Clock - What time do you have to get up tomorrow morning?

I don't have a specific time to be up, especially since it’s Saturday, and it's currently 12:55 AM too. I might go to bed in the morning.

Jewelry Box - What's your most expensive piece of jewelry, and if it was a gift then who got it for you?

It might be a heart charm necklace I got in a shop on the Kemah Boardwalk here in Texas near Galveston. I’m not really sure, though. It was something I wanted for my birthday from my parents.

Game Console - What's your favorite video game to play by yourself?

Animal Crossing! Any of the main ones, but not the offshoots.

I didn’t care to try out Happy Home Designer and Amiibo Festival. In fact, I never purchased the shitty Wii U system at all. I could’ve played HHD, but it looked lame too. No one I know liked it either.

Mirror - How many times a day do you tend to look in the mirror?

I don't look in mirrors all that often, but I'm not averse to them.

Basement - Is your basement used just for storage, or is it used as another room?

We don't have basements here.

Sports Jersey - What professional teams do you and your family root for?

No one in my immediate family is a big sports fan these days.

Dictionary - What was the last new word you learned and what does it mean?

I kind of rediscovered the word "grimoire" because of the Black Clover anime along with a lot of words based on the character names.

I think the last brand-new one was the name for Licht which means "light" even though there are several I've learned about now.

#surveys #survey #personal #questions #randomqs

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mhdiaries · 4 years

Text

Diary of Rochelle Goyle

Do not think you can read my diary without me seeing you!

10 septembre

Headless Headmistress Bloodgood asked me today why I want to be a student at Monster High. So this is what I told her, Gargoyles have eyes that are sharp and heads that are hard. It can take many years for us to make up our minds about even a little thing. That is why when I made the decision to leave my old school and transfer to Monster High, Mama and Papa knew it was not a decision made in the haste of the moment so I have their support. I had, in fact, been watching the school for many years and I liked what I saw. Many of my friends said that because I have a chip on my shoulder I am doing this thing to be contrary. I say non! I know many gargoyles that have only looked in one direction their whole unlives. They do not think anything they cannot see from where they sit can be important. Well I want to see everything so I will go to Monster High and start there.

19 septembre

I was late for class today and as I hurried to avoid detention I hurried into Deuce Gorgon and il est extrêmement beau! He was hurrying in the direction opposite on the same path and so I knocked him down, I am not very big but I am... solid for my size. His glasses flew off and he was so surprised that he forgot he was a Gorgon and looked right into my eyes. For the moment there was sadness in his eyes and then surprise again as I handed him back his sunglasses. “You didn’t turn to stone?” “Non,” I say. The Gorgon and the basilisk, I told him, do not affect my kind. He covered up his eyes with the sunglasses again and asked, “Really?” I smiled and said, “Oui,” “Wow - cool,” says he and then he is hurrying again to class. Yes, I know who his girlfriend is; but those eyes of emerald green are something perhaps I shall hurry to see again, non?

28 septembre

Ghoulia is mon amie and I am always on the look out for her so she is well protected; but it’s not something she has asked me to do and today I think I made the mistake of being... how shall I say... over protective? She was going into the catacombs to see the new roller maze course but I told her “Non!” It is too dangerous for you. You may not go. Then she made a nose between a snort and a laugh. I told her that I am très grave and that I would not allow it. But it was next Ghoulia’s turn to be grave and she said: Rochelle you are my friend, not my mother. Now you may accompany me or you can get out of my way because in case you had not noticed I am a big ghoul who is completely capable of navigating her way into the catacombs and back again! It is a most difficult thing to feel that what you do best is not wanted, but I do not think she meant it that way. Perhaps a true friend cares more for who you are than what you can do for them?

1 octobre

Today I had an appointment with Monsieur D’eath. I do not know why I think this but I think the students make him nervous and I think that he maybe owns a cat. I do not know why but I do. He checked my file many times, checked my student ID once and twice asked for the spelling of my name. Maybe he was just being thorough or maybe is afraid of a trick being pulled upon him. As he was looking at the file I looked around the room and I noticed a picture of Scaris and from the angle and view of the other buildings I knew it had to be taken from the rooftop of where I used to live. When I mentioned this to him, he almost came alive. Now the rest of the time our appointment was filled with him asking so many detailed questions about living in Scaris that I assumed he must have lived there or visited many times. When I asked if this was so he went back to being sad once more. “No,” he said, “I have only been there in books and movies.” I told him he should go and see if for real. He said it was on his “casket list” of things to do but that his work with the students was so important he did not know how he could spare the time. He reminds me of some gargoyles I know that sit together on the same building. Some face only east and some face only west. They tell each other how beautiful the sunrise and sunset is but will never turn to see for themselves because what if the sunset is more beautiful than the sunrise or the sunrise is more beautiful than the sunset? They think this will make them unhappy with what they see every day. Maybe this is the same with him or maybe there is just no monster to take care of his cat when he is gone.

12 octobre

Roux and I were chasing the pigeons from our roof today. She is great at the chasing part but not so much at the catching because when she is sneaking up she makes a little screeching noise and the pigeons fly off. It is still fun and the pigeons stay off our roof, at least until we go inside.

19 octobre

I think I did a bad thing today that I am not very proud of maybe. Deuce was playing casketball at the park close by my building. He was playing by himself and I told Roux to bring me the ball. Roux flew down and snatched the ball from the air and flew back up to our roof. I could hear the yelling and running below so I knew she got the ball. Deuce made it to the top of the building and I pretend to scold Roux for being a bad griffin. Deuce was surprised to see me and happy to have his casketball back. He took off his glasses and wiped the sweat from his eyes. Ahh... such a beautiful green... we hung out on the roof and talked for what seemed like the hours about many things. He is also très drôle. I did not know this about him. Then Cleo called him. He put his glasses back on and had to go. Yes I know, I know. This is a thing that can only end in tears and I do not want that.

2 novembre

I went to the maze today to skate. It is what I like to do when I want to think about nothing else. I did not turn on the obstacles because it is not safe when one skates alone, except I was not alone. I thought I was the only ghoul in the maze and then I heard another skater coming from behind; and coming quickly. I heard, “Passing!” I barely had the time to move over when I was passed by Robecca. I saw the little flame from her rocket boots and she was gone. The race, as they say, it was “on”. Robecca is a great skater and fast but I am fast as well. I was catching up when I realized the obstacles were on now. Sacrebleu! I barely made it past a giant spider that was webbing off a section of the track. I still got some of the thick spider silk tangled in my wing but I did not take the time to stop and untangle. I wondered if Robecca skated with the obstacles on all the time or was it because I was skating too? I saw her ahead and she was stopped. She was looking down and I thought something was wrong with her skate and I said to myself - “Ah ha!” I shall pass her. As I went by I heard her should, “Arrêtez!” but it was too late. I was falling and I could not fly because of the spider silk on my wing. It was a deep pit and I could see water at the bottom. I cannot swim. Then I heard, “Got you!” and I stopped falling and started rising. i could hear the firing of the rockets in Robecca’s boots as she pulled me out of the pit. We rested for bit as she helped me pull the web from my wing. I asked her why she skated with the obstacles on and she say to me, “I thought you turned them on!” Then from somewhere in the maze we both heard a laugh that ended in a purr.

15 novembre

I was how do they say... “volunteered”... to help with the middle school carnival today. I was in the booth demonstrating how to build sand castles. So much fun! I built the great cathedral I could see from my roof in Scaris. Monsieur D’eath came by to see it and show me a ticket he bought for Scaris! I am so happy for him. I saw Deuce too... sigh. Since our adventure in the maze, Robecca and I have been hanging out a lot together. I told her about Deuce and she told me that what I am doing is not safe for my heart. She is right. I do not understand my feelings right now. They are most hasty for a gargoyle. I also saw Robecca do the same stunt from the crowd that she did for me in the maze. Only I did not volunteer to be the fall monster. Hah! It was a good day and I am loving Monster High. I have never been so happy with a “hasty” decision in my unlife. =)

#monster high #monster high diary #rochelle goyle #wave 4 #text post

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