- Agh… what the… - I gasped and started wheezing, trying to see what was Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a purple tapestry flying off the wall, twisting into a tight loop and snapping around my neck, pulling into a knot.
The others freaked out:
- What’s going on, NoWay?!
I tried to explain, but I couldn’t get a word out- just kicked my legs uselessly, feeling myself weaken. Ada rushed toward me but froze mid - step and slowly collapsed to the floor, blood pouring wildly from a hole that had just opened in her eye.
- Where the hell did that come from?! How?! -
I rasped and reached out, trying to pull some invisible blade from her eye socket, but the hole just kept growing.
But I was only a spectator- like in spectator mode in Counter - Strike- watching and helpless. The noose made sure of that.
- Isn’t this what you wanted to see? - A nasty little thought oozed into my brain. - Didn’t you fantasize about this earlier today? Well, here’s the result of your sick little Enjoy! -
But… no! Or…
And right after that lovely mental monologue, Odile lost it again- his head jerking side to side like a busted animatronic. But somehow, even as blood spilled from his body, flowing in rivulets across the floor, he kept holding that camera steady.
Then it started pouring from his ass.
Can’t lie, even in his doom spiral, Odile still held onto some weird dignity. He didn’t scream like a little bitch (unlike me, because the noose had suddenly loosened, and I was back to full - volume screeching).
Odile just sat there, staring down as his pants started tearing open in all directions. And I couldn’t even figure out what was doing it.
But… did it really matter?
Because by that point, I had finally lost my grip on reality too.
Bye - bye, brain.
Giants and Firewood.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Two big figures and one smaller one were trudging stubbornly along a route only they seemed to know. You could’ve added one more to that party, but Roman had made a sour face the night before and declared he wanted to sleep in his own bed- that staying overnight at a police station gave him the creeps.
So, grinding his teeth, Grofo walked his younger brother back home, telling their grandparents on the way that he’d be crashing at Susanna and Petra’s place (which he actually had done before, though always with Roman in tow). After that, he returned to the - cop house.
Everything was exactly as it had been- everyone in their places: the twins had oozed off the wall and were now spread out across two huge desks, wheezing out symphonies made of snoring and coughing. Kristina, meanwhile, wrapped in an extra blanket, was watching a documentary about scurvy in pirates. Apparently, it hit close to home, because she kept poking at her cheek and shaking her head like a live - action PSA for dental hygiene.
The boy sat down on one of the empty chairs, and his eyes closed instantly- he didn’t even get a chance to wonder how long the sheriff might take. Sleep showed up right on time, as he was dead tired. What he didn’t know yet was how rough tomorrow would be. It all started with a heartfelt, serious question:
- Huh?
He cracked one eye open to a sliver and was about to tell his grandpa that, yeah, he was getting up- right now. But the giant looming over him looked nothing like his grandpa. More like a distant cousin of a fairytale troll, who instead of a bridge, was currently rattling his chair.
- What the hell, Erik?! What do you want? - The guy groaned, not entirely sure what was going on or where he was. He tried to stand up, but got scooped into a bear hug by a coat that hadn’t been washed since, like, birth.
- Wanna sober up! - The man growled like a newborn trying to
- Same! - Came the familiar voice of his sister from behind- this being one of the few things they ever agreed on.
Grofo squirmed weakly in the trap, and to avoid looking like a strangled pigeon, yelled:
- Alright, let go! You’ll get your booze, I’ll help you
The magic words worked, and he was immediately dropped to the floor. Whipping his head around, Grofo tried to make sense of what the hell was going on in the station.
Valdis never showed up, so yeah- he’d waited for nothing. Kristina was still behind the front desk, softly snoring atop a pile of brochures on how to manage Tourette’s at home. Guess she hadn’t made it through them, and the pamphlets had become an excellent pillow.
Scowling at the twins, Grofo bolted out of the station, waving them off. He could’ve ditched them a hundred times by now, but deep down, he had a soft spot for the two brutes. They reminded him of Roman- helpless and annoying. And that meant he had to take care of them, at least a little.
Otherwise, they'd never make it.
So now he had himself a pair of temporary bodyguards, ready to follow their fearless leader wherever he went. Off they went, the three of them, toward Susanna’s house, because Grofo needed to see his friend ASAP and figure out what the hell to do next. The cop was missing, the hand was gone, and somewhere near town, a deranged sadist was on the loose.
His heart skipped a beat, and he broke into a sprint- but didn’t get far. Behind him came the sounds of a scuffle, and before he knew it, he was caught in the middle of a brawl.
Batilda had ducked under Erik and locked her arms around his torso like some kind of pro wrestler, while he wheezed and tried to grab her by the hair. The two of them looked like exotic dancers under the golden glow of the morning sun- and someone might’ve even found it charming. But not Grofo.
He was in a MASSIVE hurry.
Leaping up to the giants, he jumped like he was going for a slam dunk- but instead delivered a slap. One to Batilda, then one to her brother. Of course, neither of them even flinched, so he did it again. And again…
- Hey, stop hitting me! - Erik bellowed, clearly
- You’re mean! Don’t fight, - Batilda Something truly bizarre was going on, because that made two times today the twins had agreed.
Grofo planted his hands on his hips like his grandma used to do before scolding him and Roman, and said sternly:
- If you don’t stop acting like the baby versions of my little brother, I’m leaving you here- and you’re not getting your present. -