1. We have moved to a new forum system. All your posts and data should have transferred over. Welcome, to the new Serebii Forums. Details here
    Dismiss Notice
  2. Hey Guest
    As I'm sure you're well aware, sites aren't free to run and so we run leaderboard adverts to fund the site. These ads are often specific game ones run by Sega etc.
    To make sure we get relevant ads as much as possible, could you fill out this survey my ad network is running? It's 100% anonymous and will just help us keep relevant ads on the site
    https://www.surveymonkey.co.uk/r/8GL2ZTK
    It's open til April 3rd
    Thanks :)
    Dismiss Notice
  3. Be sure to join the discussion on our discord at: Discord.gg/serebii
    Dismiss Notice
  4. If you're still waiting for the e-mail, be sure to check your junk/spam e-mail folders
    Dismiss Notice

Washed Up / Burnout [Two Oneshots]

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by canisaries, Jan 10, 2019.

Tags:
  1. canisaries

    canisaries sometimes i get a deadache, yeah

    Hi! Haven't posted a oneshot from this universe in a while - last one was Vivarium, I believe. Yep, it's TPP again - but this time we're not in Red's head. The protagonist this time is someone more iconic to TPP, that being the flareon known by some as the False Prophet. Mostly the people who left after the first run, as later on people began to see her in a different light, calling her Martyr. The lore, however, isn't crucial for these oneshots, so outsiders welcome, which is like 99% of you anyway.

    Oneshots, plural? Yes, in this thread I'll have not one, but two oneshots, because the latter was written as a sequel to the original and frankly, I wouldn't consider either of these worthy of their own thread by themselves. In this post, I'll have the first, named Washed Up (third time I'm renaming it) or as I and my readers call it casually, SINK. You'll find out why when you read on.

    I'll say this oneshot is rated mature - not as mature as some of my other work here has been, but I feel like there's a factor of violent abuse in this that raises this up a level from teen. Speaking of, content warnings for physical abuse of a (sentient) Pokémon and violent imagery (including drowning and blunt force trauma). And eeveelutions being considered as feline. The horror, I know.

    As for the sequel's content, I'll get back to it once I post it (it's ready and all, but I'm not sure if you're supposed to wait some time until another bump), but generally I think it's tamer than this first oneshot.

    Alright, with that all said, here is Washed Up. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy!

    - - -

    Washed Up

    Synopsis: A flareon lost in a snowstorm finds shelter in the house of an old "friend".

    - - -
    I must have traveled miles by now. But it doesn’t really matter how long I walk, does it, when every turn I take seems to be the wrong one.

    In this maze, walls would be a blessing. Anything tangible would be luxurious. But no, I have nothing to tell me where I am. Aside from the small circular patch of black beneath me, everything is a flashing gray. I have to squint to prevent the snow from hitting my eyes, further obscuring my sight.

    I do know I’m still walking, but it doesn’t feel like it. There’s no texture under my paws. No smooth, no rough, only sensations of pressure somewhere down there, amidst the pools of numbness.

    I’d like to give my ears a break from this infernal cold for even a minute by folding them back, but my survival instinct says no. And she’s right. Even if all I can really hear is the howling of the wind, I have to stay alert. If I can still trust my tired eyes, the ground beneath me is asphalt. Which means that, if I’m not using my senses to their full extent, I could at any moment be ripped from this life by some truck’s bumper slamming onto my body. My skull, my ribcage, my hips, all cracked like a murkrow’s egg fallen from its nest in a streetside oran tree.

    The wind picks up. I brace myself. I didn’t think blizzards could get this bad... in this part of Kanto, at least. Had I known, I would have stayed the night. I wouldn’t have ended up here - here, lashed by thousands of frigid whips. Icy maggots burrowing in between my hairs, frozen teeth biting into my skin. I wouldn’t be dying.

    But of course I had to be cocky, put too much faith in my powers. It’s just a flurry! A little snow! That’s what I said. It’s not even that low a temperature out. Fire beats ice, no problem. Especially for me.

    Oh, the fire, the flame, the lifegiver of all mon my type. I do still have a little flame in me, miraculously. I’d love to let it out, let it warm me, embrace me, but I’d be dead mere seconds afterwards. I just hope another miracle happens before I give up and set myself ablaze just to feel alive one last...



    ...What’s that?

    A shadow. A silhouette of something, over there, just a few steps away.

    Closer, I drag myself closer. There’s something in front of my legs. A step. Above it, another. Another. I ascend and find myself before a door. The wind dies down. Only a little, but in terms of visibility, it changes everything. I can see, finally.

    But what I see, it’s… familiar.

    I know where I am.

    The Gods are cruel.

    Well, then. Here I stand, between a rock and a graveler. A welcome mat underneath my tired feet. Ironic, as this house makes freezing to death sound alluring compared to entering.

    Oh, I suppose I might as well try to get the key. If I’m unable, fate will have decided for me.

    Bending my joints is like ripping apart welded steel by now, but regardless, I make my way to the wooden frame of the overlooming shelter and place my forepaws on it. I look up to better pin down the height the flower pot is hanging at, and extend claws on all my feet.

    Hmh. This will take a lot of my strength. Part of me reconsiders the swanna song option, but I’d hate to die a quitter. The abuse, the fear I’ve had to overcome, it can’t let it have been for nothing.

    I leap up the pillar and hook myself to the wood. With great strain, I drag myself upwards and climb until the flower pot is right behind me. Okay. Next is the hardest part. While my breathing is shaky and irregular, I do my best to inhale deeply. The cold air scratches my throat, but if I manage this, that won’t be bothering me for too much longer. Though not that it would even if I didn’t. My time is running out.

    I detach my forepaws from the pillar, twist my body to face the pot and throw my arms forward. Amazingly enough, my digits really do touch the rim of the pot. I dig my claws into the frozen mulch and stabilize the pot’s swinging. Blindly, I scrape around the dirt until something metallic hits my claws. I try to pull it, but it’s stuck. Hm…

    I tense my hind legs further and flip the pot upside down. Nothing happens at first, but after a few shakes and taps the frozen mass inside begins to slide out. One last smack, and the chunk of mold falls out and fractures upon impact with the ground. I can’t hold on any longer, either, and so drop down, landing on my feet, as we felines are so known to do. Hurts. My stiff muscles don’t take the shock of the collision without protest.

    I locate the key and pick it up with my mouth - the cold metal isn’t pleasant against my lips, but it’s barely painful after everything else. I unlock the door, slip in and kick it shut.

    I collapse on the floor. Slowly, very slowly, the cold begins to dissipate. Warm blood flows into my legs. It throbs and stings, but second by second, I feel more alive. Safe.

    But I can't stay here in open view like this. He might see me.

    I force my groggy body onto my legs again and look for a hiding spot. The living room has a couch and an armchair, but I’m not sure if I can fit beneath them.

    I crawl to the couch and try to stuff myself under it, but the crevice is too narrow and the couch too heavy to lift. Trying the same with the armchair, however, I discover the chair is actually hollow and succeed. And there's a soft rug underneath me too…

    Finally, I can rest. I don't need to die today. Whispering, I thank my past self for not giving up.

    I allow the warmth of the house’s air to fully envelop me. My muscles relax as I soak up the surrounding heat. The borders between my body and the environment melt away, my fire is coming back to me, but now I need to sleep…

    ...

    “...”

    ...Did… did somebody say something?

    “Sam, are you listening to me?”

    I open my eyes. Light is shining in through the crevices. Oh, no...

    “You know...”

    This light, that voice drenched in eerily calm hatred… I've been spotted. By him.

    “...it’s very rude to ignore people when they’re speaking to you, Sam.”

    Sam? Who’s Sam? Oh, right, Abe’s friend. A flareon too. He must be mistaking me for Sam.

    Should I make a run for it? I’m still so weak… oh, Dome, please let him just go away… I’m in no shape for a confrontation.

    Knock, knock, knock. “Wake up, Sam!”

    He’s not leaving. I bet he’s gonna lift the chair soon. I’ll have to run then, run like hell.

    I stretch my limbs as stealthily as possible and get up to a crouch. The fear flooding in has awoken me in record time.

    “Sam, sweetheart,” he purrs, “you do remember what I’ve told you, right? That I’m not really a fan of your kind?”

    Not yet, I can’t run just yet. I’ll have a better chance if he has his hands full with the chair.

    “Abe may have told you I wouldn’t actually harm you in any way, but I’m not sure if I agree… I have some pretty bad history with you flareon. I may act without thinking and do something after all. So, for the good of both of us, why don’t you get out from under there...”

    He grabs onto the chair. Okay, any moment now.

    “...and skitter right back upstair-”

    It’s lifted! I dash out --

    No, I’m stopped by something! My tail is stuck in something!

    “The hell’s up with you, Sa-”

    I turn around. It's his foot. He's stepped on my tail hairs. They must have been peeking out. I look up and I see his face. He sees mine.

    “...You,” he whispers, his face utterly blank.

    But that doesn’t last. A ferocious gleam ignites in his eyes, and he plunges his hand towards me. I dodge his attempted grab with a jump to the right, but my tail hairs are still stuck. I charge up any heat I have and direct it to the tip of my tail. It flashes orange. He recoils with a hiss. Freed, I run for the door.

    “No. You're not leaving,” he growls and follows.

    The door lock was not meant for paws. I’m fumbling, losing precious time, oh Dome...

    I’m covered by something. A blanket. I try to muster up some more fire to burn the fabric, and I feel heat exiting my body, but… it's not igniting… Dome, it’s a fire blanket, isn't it?

    Something clasps around my neck - a human hand, by the shape and strength of it.
    I wriggle, but to no avail. Even with the fabric to cushion it, his grip is strangling...

    Another hand grabs me by the base of my tail and I’m lifted into the air, taken somewhere. Flailing only makes him tighten his hold.

    “Oh, I’m so glad I finally get to do this…” he groans through his teeth.

    Do what, my naive side wants to ask, but I’m afraid I know exactly what he means.

    Okay. I stop squirming for now. I’ll have to prepared for anything. I can’t let him win. I begin gathering heat again. There’s barely any left anymore, but if I use what little I have at just the right time in the right place, I can --

    A gushing noise. I’m pressed down onto something metallic. From the little I can see from underneath the blanket, it looks like a... sink.

    He grabs my blanket-covered head and shoves me forward. Cold, heavy, wet surrounds me! I try to pull back, but he won’t allow it! It’s hard to breathe - I wheeze, water gets in my throat, I cough, repeat!

    Heavy gone. He’s taken off the blanket and yanked me away by my ear. I’m soaking wet.

    “Wish you were a vaporeon now, huh?”

    Bastard. I try to singe him, but I can’t. The dampness of my fur suffocates any flame I try to kindle.

    He snickers. The world shakes with me, but amongst that all, I catch a single glimpse of his face. His white teeth twisted into a sick grin. A second later he plunges me underneath the tap again. He shakes my head violently, further disorientating me, and then tugs me back.

    “You have no idea… how much pleasure this gives me.”

    Before I even get to finish a third cough, another dive. Holding my breath and releasing it is getting harder to time. Now I’m back in the dry again. My lungs can’t take much more.

    I’d be desperate enough to call for help, but my ability for any kind of vocalization is gone, sans hacking as if I’d have a dozen furballs to get out.

    “I’d love to keep doing this over and over,” he coos, “but I need to put an end to this. To you. It’s time for you to die for good, and this time no god will save you. Good. Bye.”

    He grabs onto my muzzle and parts my lips with his fingers. He twists my head face up and pushes me under the stream one last time. Water fills my mouth and crashes against my nostrils. I didn’t have time to inhale before. All I can do now is hold my breath. Even with closed eyes, I can feel myself beginning to black out. Every second is more unbearable than the last...

    This…

    This is really it, huh.

    Right here, in the sink. By his hand.

    At least in the blizzard, maybe I could have…

    ...maybe I could have slept away…

    ...

    “...!”

    Through the water swirling around me, I hear something.

    “... ... a… ou… ing?!”

    Pressure gone. Swirling changes tone. Instinct forces me to gasp - air.

    As for my assailant, he's loosened his grip, but hasn't yet fully let go.

    “Abe,” he states.

    “What… what are you doing?” Abe whispers.

    “I…”

    My vision is blurry, but I can make out a human being rushing towards me. Shaggy dark hair, brown skin, short… it really is Abe.

    He grabs me from his brother’s hold, ignoring how wet I am. The front of his pyjamas is drenched in a second. He rushes to find the nearest towel and wraps me in it.

    “Red, why… why would you do that?” He stares at his brother with a disturbed expression.

    I can see the maniac’s hand curl up into a fist. I thank my luck I’m in Abe’s arms instead of his.

    “She’s caused me a lot of pain,” he slowly says. “And she broke in. You’re overreacting.”

    He’s overreacting?

    I’m overreacting?” Abe says. “Why didn’t you just throw her out?”

    The freak stays silent. Only glares.

    Abe looks down at me. “Are you okay?”

    I stare back, my vision has clearer. Abe doesn’t have his glasses. The noise must have woken him up.

    I want to say yes, but I don’t know if I can speak. I nod instead.

    “You’re gonna side with her?”

    Abe glances back at his brother, but can’t hold a look.

    “I’m taking her upstairs,” Abe says quietly.

    “Well...” Without breaking eye contact, without even blinking, the freak grabs a towel of his own. “I guess I’ll just… clean up, then.”

    Abe winces. So subtly that probably only I could notice.

    In silence, he turns around and heads for the stairs with shaky steps. Peeking over his shoulder, I can see his brother beginning to wipe the water off the counter. For a fleeting moment, his eye focuses on me.

    The wild gleam is gone, but the hatred is alive and well.

    - - -
     
    Last edited: Jan 11, 2019
  2. canisaries

    canisaries sometimes i get a deadache, yeah

    Well, it's been a day, and I figure that's probably enough. Here's Burnout, the sequel I wrote during a monthly prompt on the TPP subreddit. I believe the prompt was "fire". Either way, I do think this one is a lot stronger than its predecessor.

    This one I think I'll rate teen for implicit physical and possibly psychological abuse plus some burning people. Doesn't quite hit mature levels in my eyes. Lemme know if you disagree, though. Alright, enjoy.

    - - -

    Burnout

    Synopsis: Blizzard still raging outside, Martyr is forced to spend the night in the same house
    as the man who tried to drown her just moments before.


    - - -
    Abe sighs. I naturally can't hear it, not over the blasting of the hair dryer, but I can see it.

    I close my eyes to enjoy the last moments of the hot air playing with my fur. I'm all dry now, dry and warmed up, but this is still a very welcome change from the painful blizzard and freezing water from before.

    The dryer is switched off and the air flow dwindles down. “Is this enough?” asks Abe. I nod, and he puts the device away.

    He sighs once more, now audibly. Some seconds pass with him only staring at me, eyes troubled and hands on his knees.

    “I'm really, really sorry,” he finally gets out.

    I speak the first words I have since the entire incident. “It's not your fault. Hell, you stopped him.”

    Abe doesn't look convinced. “I… I did, but…” The sentence trails off before reaching its end.

    Another spell of silence arises. It seems neither of us quite know what to say. But I definitely have questions. Perhaps I should just spit them out.

    “Does he hurt you?”

    The question makes Abe wince. “No, no, he's not like that,” he rushes to say. After meeting my gaze, his own flicks down onto the bathroom tiles. He mumbles an addition. “To me.”

    He's defending him. Unbelievable. Does that bastard somehow manage to act like someone with a soul around the boy? Does Abe really not know what kind of person his brother is, not even a little?

    Maybe the lunatic's somehow manipulating the poor guy. Abe is a good person, but unfortunately also seems the type that's easy to take advantage of.

    This is all just so sick. Why can't the bastard just slip up and get locked away already? It'd be better for everyone. Maybe not for him, but he’s lost his right to fair treatment years ago.

    “So what happens now?” I ask, setting those thoughts aside for the time being.

    “W-well, it's the middle of the night and super cold outside, so you should stay here for the night,” the boy responds. “You can use Sam's bed. I'm sure he won't mind.”

    “Are you sure it's… smart for me to stay here? When he's here?”

    “You’ll be in my room the whole time,” he says, “and… I don’t think he would...” Another sentence he can’t finish.

    “...Fair enough.” I stand up. “As long as you promise to answer any call for help I make.”

    “O-of course. But I don’t…” He stops and sighs. “Never mind. Come on.”

    Abe offers his hands to pick me up, but I walk past him. “I’m fine. Just lead me there.”

    “Okay...” He gets up and opens the door to the hallway.

    He flinches. Half a second later I do too, having seen what he sees.

    He is outside, frozen mid-step, staring at us both with his dark eyes. Expressionless.

    Four heartbeats pass.

    Abe inhales to say something, but right at that moment, the freak outside averts his eyes and resumes his walk. We listen to his steps. They take him further along the hallway. A door is opened and closed. The steps end.

    Ten heartbeats pass.

    “I think we can go now,” I say quietly.

    Abe only nods.

    We make our way through the hallway to Abe’s room. Having entered through the door, I spot another flareon curled up in a comfy-looking bed in the room’s corner. Must be Sam - unless Abe befriended another flareon, which he didn’t, because there’s no way he would’ve allowed it.

    Sam notices our entrance and sits up. His eyes look so bright and innocent. Like a kitten’s as it opens them for the first time.

    “What happened?” he asks quietly as Abe sits down on his own bed, one meant for bipeds.

    “I’d rather not talk about it now,” the boy answers, “but everything’s fine now.”

    Sam looks back at me, possibly trying to deduce the events from my appearance. Then his eyes widen.

    “Oh, sorry!” he says, getting up and skittering to me. “Forgot to say hi.” He smiles mareepishly. “Hi.”

    “Hi,” I mumble passingly.

    “Sam,” starts Abe, drawing back the little flareon’s attention. “Would you mind letting her sleep in your bed for tonight? She’s had a pretty rough time...”

    “O-oh, of course, yeah, go ahead,” Sam responds. “I mean, most nights I just sleep with you anyw-”

    Abe laughs awkwardly, cutting Sam off. “Yeah, yeah, but, uhh… could you maybe sleep in the ball tonight? I’d like her to have space.”

    “Yeah, that’s okay,” Sam says, though his ears droop a bit.

    Abe digs out Sam’s ball from his drawer and points it at the flareon.

    “Goodnight,” says Sam with a smile.

    “Goodnight,” responds Abe and presses the button. In a red flash, Sam is returned. Abe brings the ball back to its storage. His way of holding the ball has changed - it’s much more careful and considerate, as if what he held had a pulse and breathed. Absolutely nothing like his brother...

    “So, uhh...” Abe gestures at Sam’s bed. “Make yourself at home. I’m just gonna... go back to bed now.”

    As he crawls underneath his blanket, I traipse to the offered bed and lie down. It’s quite soft, and still warm. Smells like Sam, of course.

    “By the way...” Abe starts. “Like I said, you’ve had it pretty rough today, so… I just wanna let you know that, uhh…” He leans on his blanket, voice muffled a bit. “If you would like to sleep next to me, like, for comfort or something… that’s okay by me.”

    “...Uh-huh.” Thanks, but no thanks.

    “...Well, goodnight.”

    “M-hm.”

    Abe switches off the lamp on his nightstand and darkness regains its reign.

    I try to melt into the pillow beneath me, leave the horror of today behind, but something doesn't let me. Suspicion. I know my senses are sharp and that I can defend myself now that I'm warm again, but will that stop the maniac? He backed off before when Abe caught him in the act, but who's to say he won't change his mind after a while to think?

    ...Should I take Abe up on that offer after all and sleep next to him? It'd make his brother less likely to attack…

    No, you have dignity. Just sleep where you are, and screech like hell if anything approaches you. You need the rest.

    Ngh. Fine…

    - - -

    I'm awake.

    Why? Did something happen?

    I open my eyes and survey the room. I can't see anything new, but I can hardly see anything in general through the darkness.

    Empty floor. Bump underneath the blanket of the human bed. That's Abe. The drawers are all closed, the bookcases are still, the door…

    Wait. The door is cracked.

    The hallway is even darker with no streetlight leaking in underneath the window curtains. Is something there? It's just so dark… the static overwhelms any details…

    It moved.

    Something moved. Something’s there.

    My heart beats louder. I scrutinize the blackness. There’s a form there. Peering in. It has eyes. Lifeless eyes. And they're staring right at me.

    It's him.

    I glare back. What do you want? What are you here for? You do know I can wake Abe up any time I'd like?

    Uncertainty chills my bones. What if he doesn't care? What if he decided to finish this now, no matter what?

    Wait, I don't need to be afraid. I have my fire. I'm no longer defenseless. He's just a human. We're away from any sinks.

    It's time to stop fearing. It's time to let him know the facts.

    I sit up, then stand. My limbs feel no fatigue, numbed by adrenaline. I stare deep into the shadow’s eyes, and I show my flame.

    My mane spreads out, its long fur dancing with the heating air's movements. Like an ember, I glow a warm, warning red. The darkness of the room decays, burning away with a slow flame.

    The shadow's face is lit. It's just a man. A boy. A boy filled with bitterness and hate towards just about everything.

    I won't fear a being so miserable.

    It moves. My ears twitch. But it moves away. Looks away, and withdraws. Tap, tap, tap. Fading steps. A door opened. A door closed.

    He's gone.

    I sit back down, letting my fur cool. I guess he just wanted to be creepy. Or maybe he did have some intentions, but reconsidered. Or… went to wait for me to fall back asleep.

    Not that, please. I just want a damn rest. A peaceful night.

    You know what? I have great reasons to get into Abe's bed. They're smart reasons. If anything's bad for your dignity, it's rejecting a completely valid option.

    I get back up. Quickly, while I still have the adrenaline boost, I leave my bed and jump onto Abe's.

    Sluggishly, he wakes up. His sleepy eyes meet mine, and he understands right away. As he lifts up the blanket, I shuffle in and lie down.

    - - -

    It's dark. But not the same dark as before.

    There are no walls, no windows, no ceilings. But I can walk, so there must be a floor.

    There's something else here, too. A presence. I can feel it in the air.

    “Who are you?” I growl. I already have an idea.

    It moves. I know it's moving, but where, from or to, I don't know. I spin, trying to pin it down, but can't.

    It comes closer. I can sense its distance. Still not its direction, but it's something. It's still some meters away.

    I'm sick of this darkness. Light, come.

    The glow inside me awakens. My mane and tail light up, illuminating the environment. Or it should, but nothing catches the light. The floor is as black and textureless as before - the only thing my glow made visible was my own body.

    I freeze. That’s probably not a good thing.

    A hiss comes from behind.

    I turn around, facing the eyes I know and despise, on a black arbok's neck. No part of the serpent touches the ground - instead, it slithers through the air itself.

    The arbok's true eyes, yellow and slit-pupiled, are fixed on me despite the restless motions its head makes along with its body. A forked black tongue flicks in and out.

    Its neck cranes back. I know what it's doing, but to attack me - clearly, it doesn't.

    I fill my mouth with a white-hot flame and spit it right at the devil's face.

    A scream. A scream not of an arbok or a lunatic. It's not him. I'm not there anymore. The bed. Abe. The fire. They're on fire!

    I jump down to the floor. Abe is flailing, his skin burning, his face agonized. I had a nightmare. I had a nightmare, but my fire was real!

    He squeals again, desperately trying to pat out my flames, but in vain. No! What have I done? What can I do? Nothing, anything I'd try would only make things worse!

    “What did she do?”

    That shout - that shout was his. He's here. There, at the door. Shocked. Worried about his burning brother. Worried? You're not worried! You're faking it!

    He produces a fire blanket - from where, I don’t know, perhaps he’d kept it with him the whole night in case of a second round - and throws it on Abe, finally soothing the ravenous flames at least by a bit. Abe grabs it, cloaks himself with it and continues his attempts to extinguish the fire while his older brother turns to me.

    “This is all your fault,” he spits. Hisses, like the serpent he is.

    No, it’s not my fault. It’s not my fault!

    ...Is it?

    The flames poking out from the blankets’ edges surge in heat again, and Abe lets out a hoarse screech.

    - - -

    It's dark.

    I’m lying down. It’s soft, soft around me. This is a bed. It’s not on fire. That was a dream.

    I sigh. I still feel Abe’s forearm next to me, relaxed and free of fire. None of that happened. Everything is fine.

    But is it? That nightmare had a point. If I try a counterattack, even if I wasn’t in Abe’s bed like this, I could end up setting the whole place on fire. I hate the creep, but Abe and Sam and Fonz and… even Helix live here. I couldn't do that to them. Unlike him, I’m not a monster, despite what he may claim.

    I shuffle away from Abe, the boy miraculously still staying asleep, and jump off the bed. In the dim light of my faintly glowing mane, I pace to the window and peek in beneath the curtains. No snowflakes catch the light of the streets. The blizzard has stopped. I can leave. And I should.

    Should I leave a note? No… I'll let them know I'm fine some other day. In the meantime, may the serpent take the blame. He certainly deserves it.

    I make my way to the door and peer out. The hallway is empty. No lights are on here or downstairs. I can brighten up a bit.

    I slip out of the door and creep downstairs. Nothing here, either. Good. Nothing to stop me. Now I'll just walk out the front door, I suppose… resume my trip like this whole episode never happened.

    A creak. The sofa creaked. Is someone there? Did my light wake them up?

    I stay still, maintaining my glow at its current strength. If I turn it off, they'll just find it more suspicious.

    Another creak. Should I run? Could they catch me? The door isn't far, but its lock takes time to open, and I already failed to get away once because I kept fumbling…

    A figure arises on the couch. Human. It's him. I need to run!

    I dash for the door in leaps and slam my forepaws beside the lock. I hear him get off the couch, his feet thumping down on the floor. He's coming. Oh Gods. Cursing my stubby toes, I twist the lock, or try to twist it, but it wasn't made for quadrupeds -- but it opens!

    I hop out and keep running. The cold of the snow below stings my paws, but that’s the least of my worries. I bolt across the front yard, stop for a split second to check no vehicles are coming, and cross the icy, gravel-peppered road.

    On the other side, I stop. I can’t hear him follow. Did he give up?

    I look back. The front door is still open, but now the lights are on. A silhouette of a man stands in the frame. The dead eyes confirm his identity.

    But he stays still. He’s given up. It does make sense as it’s the middle of the night and freezing outside, but he slept on the couch just so he could catch me alone if I happened to come downstairs…

    But that… doesn’t seem right. He knows Abe would blame my disappearance on him. Why not just get me in Abe’s room if he didn’t care what Abe thought?

    No, I’m just missing something. I haven’t had a good sleep and my brain isn’t at its best right now. He wanted to get me and that’s a good enough explanation.

    The man in the doorframe pulls the door to a close, its outpouring light extinguished. The serpent withdraws to its den. I should recede to my own, too. The blizzard may have stopped, but it’s still frigid out here.

    I continue along the frozen street. My mind is hazy, but two particular things are perfectly clear - my destination, and the fact that I’ll never set foot in that house again.

    - - -
     
  3. Umbramatic

    Umbramatic The Ghost Lord

    Okay I've been meaning to check out more of your TPP fics after HIM and this seemed like the logical next step. And it was pretty neat!

    This was a very intresting, more sympathetic look at the infamous False Prophet Flareon. The stuff about her being out in the cold and almost giving up was kind of heartbreaking, setting them up as a character you want to root for.

    Which is a good thing as the rest of the fic had plenty of "yikes" moments. But, like. In a good way. It was actually compelling, watching our protagonist try to stay the fuck out of the way from Red's murderous grudge against her. I just hope she winds up OK. Knowing the usual tone of your fics probably not. :)

    Also I love Abe. He's a good kid. Poor guy has to have Red for a brother.

    But yeah these two oneshots were an intresting glimpse into a character's fucked up situation and I kinda wanna see more.
     
    canisaries likes this.

Share This Page