You have no idea how many people lurk on your work. No idea how many times people go back to revisit your work. How big they smile when they simply think about your work. How fast their heart beats, how excited they get when they see that you posted something.
People are shy with their feedback. Sometimes it’s because they’re simply shy. Other times it’s because they assume you already know how great and talented you are. Could be both.
My point is, even if you barely have any likes or reblogs, don’t get discouraged. You have a lot of silent fans, but they are still your fans. Keep on creating. Because there is always someone out there who will love what you have made.
1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?
2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?
3. The person you would never want to meet?
4. What is your favorite word?
5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?
6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?
7. What shirt are you wearing?
8. What do you label yourself as?
9. Bright room or dark room?
10. What were you doing at midnight last night?
11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?
12. Who told you they loved you last?
13. Your worst enemy?
14. What is your current desktop picture?
15. Do you like someone?
16. The last song you listened to?
17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?
18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?
19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?
20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)
21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?
22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?
23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?
24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.
25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?
26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?
27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?
28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
29. What is your favorite expletive?
30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?
31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!
33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?
34. What was your last dream about?
35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?
36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?
37. Have you ever built a snowman?
38. What is the color of your socks?
39. What type of music do you like?
40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?
41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?
42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)
43. Do you have any scars?
44. What do you want to be when you graduate?
45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
46. Are you reliable?
47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?
48. Do you hold grudges?
49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?
50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?
51. Are you a good liar?
52. How long could you go without talking?
53. What has been you worst haircut/style?
54. Have you ever baked your own cake?
55. Can you do any accents other than your own?
56. What do you like on your toast?
57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?
58. What would be you dream car?
59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.
60. Do you believe in aliens?
61. Do you often read your horoscope?
62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?
63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?
64. What do you think about babies?
65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.
These are the coolest questions I’ve ever seen. ASK ME THINGS. I WANT TO ANSWER THEM
I’m known at school for being the girl with fly swatters holstered to my backpack at all times. I just can’t stand flies and I’m really good at killing them. My teachers even call me out of class sometimes to kill flies in their classrooms
People always ask me how I keep my nails so clean and why they’re so nicely shaped. Truth is I just grow them out because I’m lazy and I like to keep them extra clean just.
My Mom accidently locked me in the car with her keys when I was 2. She asked me to pull up the lock knob on the door to which I pointed and laughed at her calling her stupid. When she came back with help, I pulled up the knob. 😎
Long before Hellsing Ultimate, I had the Gonzo DVDs (you bet yer damn ass I did–and do), and caught the flu. On my period. While my tonsils were infected. so much UGH. I popped in a Hellsing DVD and let it run on repeat-all, zoning in and out of unconsciousness to Alucard laughing and Ishii’s OST. I’d change the disc on my way by to the bathroom. I wasnt moving any more than I had to.
It was the only time in my life I was SO miserable while also being SO happy.
(I’ve already answered this one but I love being tagged in posts so I’m gonna give another random fact. Also I don’t know who else to tag I’m so sorry D: )
I’m a sucker for collector’s merchandise. I own Vault-Tec stuff from Fallout, a collectible book set of Game of Thrones, and (my favorite) one of the DVD box sets of Invader Zim that came in the big box shaped like Zim’s house.
For artists who draw Hellsing stuff, I would love for someone to draw Father Anderson trying to take a selfie of himself and failing cutely.
Also, small headcanon that even though he’s terrible with technology, he loves to video the kids from the orphanage on trips and outings and is the resident camera Dad of Iscariot 😚
Ok I’m not an artist but you already got me at “Anderson”. Enjoy some doodles:
Even though this giraffe of a man would make beautiful selfies with arms this long.
_______
“You know you got a front camera?” “A what now?”
_______
“Why can’t I get my whole face on the screen?”
_______
“How come everything is black except for your glasses and teeth?” “I don’t know, it just happens sometimes.”
_______
And now someone who can actually draw show me a selfie of Alexander, Enrico, Yumie and Heinkel!
I LEGIT LOVE YOU FOR THIS @tokoyamisstuff it’s more than I could ask for you CUTIEE
I spent all day writing this after planning for over a week. Here we see a lot more fluff to balance out the existential angst of the last part. And thus begins a transformation of Claude from the scared boy he has been the past couple of updates. It is also super late so I am definitely going to post this and hit the hay. I sincerely hope you all enjoy, because this is probably my favorite update so far.
The great zeppelin Deus Ex Machina, low over London, flames licking at the painted sides of its armored hull. Sir Integra and the vampire Seras Victoria had board, their arrival foretold by the Major himself. The door closed behind them and the great flying machine took to the air.
Claude jolted awake, eyes momentarily shocked by the lack of light in his bedroom. For a moment, it felt like he was back in the Hellsing Manor.
The Captain blocks their path, a great fortress to their mission of ending the Major. He politely lets Integra pass, ever the polite, loyal subject. With little ado, he and the blonde Police Girl begin their battle. Captain takes bullet after bullet, vicious punch after vicious punch. He returns in kind, unphased, his brutal strength reflected in rippling muscles as his greatcoat leaves his body.
Claude’s breath caught in his throat at the sight playing before his eyes in his vision. Such physical prowess as he’d never seen before. He felt a chill run down his spine. Was he scared of what he was seeing? No… No, scared was the wrong word. As the vision left his eyes and Claude sat in the darkened room, ruminating on what he saw, he was certain of one thing.
Fear was not the emotion he felt about the Captain right now.
——————————————————————————————-
With his newfound freedom, owing to his performance in Rio de Janeiro, Claude was allowed to roam the facilities in which Millennium housed themselves. Not leave, certainly not. But he was allowed the small bit of independence he craved, having previously spent nearly ten days locked in a cell.
That doesn’t mean he was truly free to wander everywhere unaccompanied. Everywhere he went, by his side was the Captain. Ostensibly it was to keep him in line, to make sure he didn’t stray anywhere he wasn’t supposed to go, to make sure he didn’t plot an escape. But if their goal was to intimidate him into submission, they would have kept Zorin Blitz as his handler. Claude had a sneaking suspicion the Captain requested to serve as his chaperone.
It had been three full weeks since his capture. The soldier hated to admit it, but he was already starting to get used to things around here.
They were observing the training area set up inside the Millennium facility. A squad of six vampires were sparring with First Lieutenant Blitz while several other squads supervised by Rip van Winkle were undertaking shooting practice.
Zorin was effortlessly beating them back. Even with just her fists, the other vampires couldn’t get close to her. Despite his intense hatred of her, Claude had to admit that her skill was impressive.
As they watched, Claude idly looked up at the Captain. The Captain, who was roughly half a meter taller than he was. Who was standing right beside him.
Claude’s attention was suddenly taken by a sharp whistle emanating from the training arena. He turned to face the source of the noise, to see Zorin waving with a grin on her face. “Human!” She shouted. “Vouldn’t you like to spar vith me? Who knows, I might even let you live!” He scowled.
“No thanks, cyclops. I’m perfectly content to watch from here.”
She laughed heartily at his comment. “Fine, then, feeble one.”
Zorin returned to fighting a new squad of vampires, and Claude let out a quiet sigh. He returned to his thoughts, thinking about the Captain.
Shortly after Zorin’s request for a sparring session, they had been called to the Doctor’s laboratory. It was the same as every day since Claude had been given his new room. Doc took details of his visions (he never told the truth), measurements, blood tests, observational information.
Whatever the Doc had planned for Claude, he was perfectly tight-lipped about it. He ignored all of Claude’s questions regarding the tests and blood samples he was taking.
After the examination came his own training. Truth be told, it was less training and more weapons practice. The Major had arranged for Claude to be trained to use the same weapons as all of the vampire soldiers. He was still to use his own gun in combat, but was to be familiarized with the German weapons in case the need arose.
He was escorted back to the range by Captain, given his gun and ammo, and told to lead a squad of vampires in their weapons exercises. Claude hefted the massive assault rifle with ease. It weighed half as much as his shotgun, so the weight was of little consequence. He turned to his squad, who listened with rapt attention. They were the same ten vampires who he led in Rio, and who regarded him with remarkable respect even though he was little more than dinner to most vampires.
“You’re all veterans. You know your weapons, so this is more training for me than you.” He gestured to the gun in his arms. “Standard-issue FG42 paratrooper’s assault rifle. Customized to be loaded from a 50-round drum. Fires full-metal-jacket ammo.”
So you Nazi pricks can kill innocent civilians again. He thought to himself. Claude sighed internally. He was still desperately hoping for a rescue, but as time went on, he knew that was going to be less and less likely. But there was a time for that line of thought, and it wasn’t now. Right now, like it or not, he had a job to do.
Claude loaded the gun, emptied it into the targets set up downrange. Firing in bursts like he was taught by his father and again by the sergeants at the Hellsing Manor. Every round hit center mass, accurately, no target escaped his fire. There was a smattering of applause behind him.
Don’t patronize me.
He knew it wasn’t just his squad watching him. The Captain had stood nearby, keeping an eye on him. Zorin Blitz stood, arms crossed, watching with a look Claude couldn’t quite identify. Was it indifference? Was she impressed? Even Schrodinger was perched nearby. He hated the attention, just wanting to fly under the radar. But he knew that would never happen.
Claude led the squad in several exercises, included concentrated fire, defiladed fire, covering fire. The works. They were fifty-year veterans of war, but it never hurt to sharpen up on the basics.
After nearly four hours, they concluded the exercise. Claude was, fittingly, exhausted. The human body wasn’t meant to shoulder and fire a rifle for that length of time. All ten vampires in his squad looked at each other with mild amusement as he had to call it off so much earlier than expected.
He feigned a smile. They disgusted him. Their fangs, their attitude, their smell of blood… Everything disgusted him. And yet he found himself drawn more to these people. Despite the trauma of the night in Rio, it had been an experience that he had gone through with all of them. He had gone through all of that and came out the other side with his sanity (mostly) intact. Behind his fake grin, he spoke.
“Yes, well, your scharführer-“ God above, saying his rank felt like acid on his lips, “- doesn’t have the luxury of being vampires like all of you. Try as I might, I still get tired.”
One of his soldiers, Klaus, piped up. “Perhaps ze Obersturmführers could remedy zat, ja?”
At the mention of her title, Claude immediately glanced to one of the two observing First Lieutenants. Zorin had a grimace on her face as though even the thought of drinking his blood disgusted her. Rip van Winkle looked remarkably flustered.
“Yes, well…” Claude cleared his throat. “Herr Major and Herr Doktor have other plans. I’m not privy to what those are. But I’m certain it doesn’t consist of me becoming a vampire.”
He bid his squad farewell and began to walk out of the training hall. The soldier turned to look at the Captain, who now strode alongside him into the outer corridor.
“So, Captain, might you be staying for dinner again?” Ever since his transfer into the new quarters, Claude had been accompanied by the Captain during meal time every day. The Captain never ate the same food he ate – Claude was almost certain the Captain subsisted on raw flesh and blood like the vampires around him – but nonetheless, the tall man sat across the table from Claude at every meal, lending his silent vigil to the eating soldier.
Captain nodded, closing his eyes briefly as he did. Claude gave him a soft smile. The towering individual was, perhaps with the exception of Schrodinger, the one man in this facility whom Claude did not wholeheartedly despise. The soldier actually quite enjoyed his Captain’s presence, hence his contentment with having the man as his chaperone.
And so they departed to Claude’s quarters. A selection of food was provided by some nameless peon, ordered by the Major to bring it to them.
Claude picked out a simple steak and potatoes. He wasn’t worried about the food, not tonight. Or today. “Dinner” was being served at 7:30 in the morning. His circadian rhythm had to be completely shifted in order to line up with the vampires around him. That wasn’t fun, but at least there was no outside sunlight to mess it up.
As he began to dig into the meal, Claude idly looked over at the Captain. The Captain was disassembling his enormous Mauser C96 pistols at the table, so his attention was preoccupied. He didn’t notice Claude’s stares. Claude’s stares as he beheld the Captain’s silvery hair. His dark red eyes, rapt with attention as his gloved hands tenderly dismantled the two guns with all the deftness of a clockmaker. And his coat… He could remember, vividly, the vision where he saw what lay underneath that greatcoat.
Claude nibbled softly on his lower lip. He had been feeling much more… Drawn to the Captain, ever since the night he returned from Rio. When the Captain held him close as the overwhelming sense of guilt threatened to crush his spirit for good.
“Captain…” Claude’s voice took the both of them by surprise. It felt so alien to break the silence between the two souls sitting at the table. The Captain looked up, his eyes meeting Claude’s for the briefest of moments before he angled them slightly away.
“Do you… Do you have a name, Captain?” He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the look in the Captain’s eyes. Claude quickly had to explain, lest he risk offending the other man. “I just… I’ve only been able to call you ‘Captain.’ I wanted to know if there’s something else I could call you. Captain is just so… Impersonal.”
Claude wasn’t aware he had set his hand on one of the Captain’s gloved hands until the taller male looked down at it.
“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. But I promise I’ll keep it to myself.”
There was a pause. It seemed to last an hour. It was probably about a minute or two. But the Captain carefully moved his free hand, index finger extended. Claude felt the cloth of the Captain’s gloved finger as it slowly traced a word onto the back of his own bare hand.
“H A N S”
The soldier wanted to melt in his seat. That name was so… So perfect. It fit the Captain so well. Claude smiled softly.
“Hans. That’s a wonderful name.”
That’s when he saw it, just barely, over the high collar of Hans’ greatcoat. That smile. And just like that, Claude’s heart nearly melted.
His hand closed tighter around Hans’ hand for but a moment before he let go. Claude cleared his throat, looking back to his dinner. He began to try and finish the food, hoping desperately it would quell the fire burning deep in his heart at the moment.
Please, God, let this man feel the same way.
There wasn’t a doubt in Claude’s mind that there might be some conflict. Millennium may be Nazis in name only, but there was no telling what personal beliefs Hans might have, hidden behind that silent visage. After a moment, Hans grabbed Claude’s free hand again.
“YOU AND I. WE ARE TWO OF A KIND, YES?”
“Two of a kind? How so?” Claude’s confusion was palpable.
“THE TWO OF US, WE ARE WEAPONS. GUNS TO BE FIRED BY HANDS OTHER THAN OUR OWN.”
“I… Yes. You’re not wrong, Hans. I’ve… I’ve felt that way for a long time, since before I was captured.”
“WE TWO GUNS CAN RELY ON EACH OTHER, YES? IF NOTHING ELSE, AT LEAST WE ARE WEAPONS TOGETHER.”
Claude could feel thick tears welling up in his eyes. His throat tightened, but he smiled. A genuine smile.
“Yes, Hans. At least we’ve got each other.”
Claude had long since finished his food. After a few minutes, Hans stood. The soldier knew his Captain had to leave eventually.
“Umm… Hans, wait. Before you go.”
The Captain turned to face him. He had walked up to the vastly taller man.
“I… Look, I’ve never really done this, but… I… Could you…” Before he could finish the sentence, Hans bent down, his lips meeting Claude’s. It was the slightest of brushes, scarcely a kiss, but the soldier could still feel the tender, surprising softness of his Captain’s lips in that briefest of moments.
With that, Hans straightened up, the same smile from earlier plastered across his face. He tipped his hat, a bid goodnight, before turning and exiting the room.
That kiss. That smile.
Claude was going to be stuck with those thoughts for a while.
——————————————————————————————-
Another week had passed before Claude was summoned into the Doctor’s laboratory. The room was abuzz with activity. All of the high-ranked officials in Millennium were present. Hans, Zorin, Rip, Schrodinger, Tubalcain, the Major, even the bean-counting benefactors, the old-school for-real Nazis who Claude rarely saw.
Claude was gestured to a chair highly reminiscent of a dentist’s chair. He sat obediently, and the Doctor produced an IV bag full of what looked like a dark, silvery fluid.
“Gentlemen!” He announced with a flourish. “Ze culmination of a month’s vork! Day und night I have vorked to reverse-engineer zese nanomachines provided by an ally of ours in ze Vatican.”
Nanomachines? Claude had heard of them. He had heard of them in science-fiction, had only relatively recently been affirmed of their existence after the fight with Father Anderson. But only that isolated incident. And now, before him, was an entire bag of the stuff.
The Doctor continued. “Zese have been fully reprogrammed to allow Herr Grey a degree of control of his precognitive abilities, in addition to ze physical und regenerative benefits.”
Control of his powers. Even the slightest bit of control. The thought echoed through Claude’s mind like a gunshot.
The Major opened his mouth to speak, undoubtedly some spiel about Claude’s powers and how they would be the ideal weapon of war. The soldier was having none of it. He interrupted.
“Do it. I don’t want to hear anything. If I can have any control over these visions, even the slightest, I want this.” He lifted his sleeve, volunteering an arm. The Major clapped his hands together.
“Ah! Such spirit! Zat’s vhat I like to see, Herr Grey! Alright, Doktor, you heard ze man!”
Doc grinned wickedly, producing a very long, high-gauge needle. All color drained from Claude’s face at the sight. Without a word, Hans walked over, grasping the hand on Claude’s other arm.
There was a murmur throughout the room. Schrodinger’s face lit up as he parroted something about how adorable the sight was. The Major spoke something to the effect of camaraderie among the troops. Claude could honestly hear almost nothing aside from his own heartbeat. His own heartbeat which became ever louder as the Doctor approached with that needle.
He couldn’t look away as the needle sank into the flesh of his upper arm. The liquid began to enter his system, pulsing through his veins with incredible speed. A tingle, then chill spread through his body. Slowly, over the course of nearly half an hour, the entire bag drained into his blood. There was a delay, of course there was a delay.
Everyone watched with bated breath. After a total of forty-five minutes, the nanomachines activated.
A thunderclap of energy rippled through Claude’s body, his back arching as he let out a shout. Every nerve ending in every square-centimeter of skin was on fire. Not burning with flame. Burning with energy. His mind was a beehive of activity, a hundred future events flashing through his brain and across his eyes. The soldier grabbed, hand squeezing vicelike on Hans’ own hand. Claude’s eyes squeezed shut, and he willed for it all to stop.
And just like that, it did. The visions came to a halt, replaced by his normal mental processes. His body seemed to cool down. He took a deep breath, held it for a beat, then let it out.
One more time.
A vision passed through his eyes.
A squad of Hellsing soldiers, complete with armor and air support, breaking into the facility to rescue him, with Alucard at their head. This was different than any vision he’d had since his capture. It didn’t come from a future where Claude didn’t exist to stop things. This was a future from this world, from his world.
Claude opened his eyes, the largest grin on his face.
He let go of Hans’ hand, flexing the muscles in his arms as he did. He felt so much stronger. So much more enlightened by the microscopic machines now fully incorporated into his bloodstream. Claude stood up, turning to Zorin.
“You know, First Lieutenant… I think I’ll take you up on that offer to spar.”
The room froze, but she returned his grin with an evil smirk of her own.
“Bring it on, human.”
He was going to give his body the mother of all test runs. And why shouldn’t he? Rescue was coming, at some undetermined point in the future, but it was coming for him.
Claude felt so much more potential running through his body, a level of confidence he’d never expected to have in this situation. He’d bide his time. He’d plan with Hans. And when the time came, he was going to show these Nazis what for.
So I wanted to do a thing with the Hellsing Fandom, and I imagined this post becoming a huge thread. I want as many people of the fandom to see this and have their hand at it! So, you can write some dialogue, a short story excerpt or do a drawing or comic of if you got suddenly transported into the Hellsing world.
BONUS if you get transported exactly from the place and whatever you’re doing at the time of reading this!
I’ll start you guys off with mine!
Just a moment ago, I was sure I was sitting on the sofa, typing up a post onto Tumblr…
There was a great, big shadow of a mausoleum of a building cast over my head. The wind blew strong as I found my way to my feet off the ground. I was still dressed in my t-shirt and tracksuits that I wore at home. The weather wasn’t kind, and I found myself holding my arms as I turned to inspect the area. I tried to keep calm, that was paramount.
Shadows continued to flicker, almost too fast for my eyes to register. Before I knew it, I heard the sound of a creature unlike anything I heard before, and arms grab me with astounding force.
“It would be better if you didn’t fight back. I only need to drink..”
I shut my eyes, knowing that I was most probably going to die without even knowing who my assailant was. Except, I didn’t and I heard a massive gun shot reverberating across the expanse of the area around me.
I opened my eyes to look up at an individual I only knew by one name.
He peered down at me, unsure of what to say.
“Please, don’t go getting yourself killed. Don’t humans know not to be out at this time of night?”
That’s right, it was Alucard, no doubt. What I needed to know was, how did I even get into the Hellsing world? That, and many questions, I hoped, would be answered.
Thought I’d go ahead and add my contribution because I love this idea!
I’m not gonna lie, I screamed. One minute I was there, the next I wasn’t. Pulled away from my computer, from the episode of Monk I was watching on TV. Away from reading my friend Medz’s post on Tumblr. It all happened so fast.
The next thing I remembered was the fall. Just a couple of feet, but I hit the ground and smacked my head on the ground.
“Und zat’s vhen I said… Vhat ze hell?!”
I groaned, rubbing my head, now complete with a splitting pain in it. I didn’t even want to open my eyes.
That’s when I smelled the food. The reeking stench of blood. I heard the German accents around me and the clicking of numerous guns that were doubtlessly pointed at me. I let out a ragged sigh. A chair scraped across the floor somewhere to my left.
“Who ze hell are you, und how did you get here?”
“Buddy…” I groaned, rubbing my head. “I’m asking myself the same question right now.”
I tried to open my eyes. The light was blinding at first, aggravating my headache further. I sat up, slowly. Still in my pajamas. But of course. Then I looked around me.
A massive dining table, lined on all sides by soldiers in the middle of eating. Eating blood, by the looks of it. Their uniforms… Oh… So that’s where I was. Hellsing.
And I was there. With Millennium.
My survival chances dropped low enough that I’m pretty sure I could actually hear them hitting rock bottom.
I turned to my right, standing up and gently pushing the long barrel of the Mauser pistol out of my face.
“Easy there, Tall Dark and Handsome.” I gave the werewolf a smirk. “At least buy me dinner before you threaten to kill me.” I was pretty sure that just pissed him off. Oh well. Worth a shot before I get eaten.
I turned to my left, to face the standing figure of the Major, face stained with barbecue sauce from the ribs in front of him. Heh. For once I was taller than someone.
“Look, Major, speaking fat guy to fat guy, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m no threat to you or this little outfit you got here. Far from it, y’know?”
I wasn’t exactly a smooth-talker. I just needed to keep him and his entourage from killing me long enough to figure out a way back home. Here’s hoping I could let them think I was useful enough to keep alive.
(Omg, mine sucks… it wouldn’t have been (so much) if I wasnt childcaring rn ^^;…)
Deadass on the thick carpetted floor, I checked on the nephews real quick. Oldest boy was biologically fused to his cyborg-organ, the PS4. Middle boy asleep on couch. Toddler in a Friday the 13th Jason mask watching “learn to count” music youtube videos on a phone. Okay. All’s well. Back to the laptop–no wait, tot is hungry. Wants cereal. I cant guarantee toast safety (sometimes… I only set it on fire once–THE TOASTER WAS OLD AS MOSES. It had green fire), but I can pour milk like a boss. Let’s do this.
As I got up again, I noticed the light behind me go off. Great. Damn loose plug, IN A HOUSE WITH CHILDREN… I’ll get to it when I have slain the cereal-beast. The boy isnt afraid of the dark, he’ll be fine. He hadnt even flinched, the youtube video carrying on, “one little pumpkin smIIIling, smIIIling~ one little pumpkin is… Ha! Ppy!~”
Stepping into the kitchen, I hear Spongebob go mute mid-sentence as the living room TV cut out. Bastard Time-fucking-Warner, NOW what are they screwing up-? Slay the beast now, wrangle with the Devil’s box later… though it was creepy to see the living room pitch black.
Only after grabbing a spoon for the soon to be annihilated cereal did I realize I couldnt hear the pumpkins counting anymore. Im always paranoid but sometimes it pays to be cautious. “Lewie-? You okay?” No response. “LEWIE-??” Okay, mini-panic time for the Aunty-mom.
Armed with a spoon, Im on a march towards the living room when the kitchen lights click off. Soon after, the hall lights are gone and PS4 mutes. Middle boy does not scream in outrage–THAT’S what gets me. The boy has anger issues. HE WOULD BE FRIGHTENING BANSHEES RIGHT NOW.
A sense of helplesness overwhelms, Ive never been under attack before–dammit, my moment to die gloriously has come, but I cant leave the kids without at least a meat shield (me). Okay-okay-tot first, Middle boy–theyre awake and potentially mobile, Oldest boy is sleeping. Secure the wakies, get the shotgun from the top shelf of the back room closet, then wake the sleepy boy. Lock ourselves in bathro–… shit. NO ONE can wake the oldest boy FOR A VOLCANO, even… alright, we’ll just camp out around his bed with the shotgun. A nice sound plan. Its probably nothing, after all… we’ll bitch out Time Warner tomorrow. If we’re alive tomorrow.
Feeling through the darkness for the living room doorframe, I ended up planting my hand firmly on cloth. I would have thought “oh, I hit the coat table…”, because they just throw their coats on a table by the door, but my hand was up too high and this was firm. A person. And TALL. Short as I am, Im STILL taller than any of the 3 boys.
Hearing TollyMcGiant mumbling in an unfamiliar voice, all I can think is to throw my other hand into him, weak as I may be, then run for the back room. Shotgun time. Hope Middle boy stays in his room-if not DRAG HIM along-he will protest-D R A G.
There was a clink of metal as lights come back on, McGiant booming out “… AMEN.” The sight of a shiny crucifix had me frozen in place. I cant distrust a crucifix–stupid, stupid, STUPID-any psycho can have a crucifix! And they usually DO!!
“A voman…!” A voice exclaimed off to the side.
“… did she just stab the Father with a spoon-??” Another, more frail voice chirped.
Oh right… I still had the spoon. And I stabbed McToll’s crucifix necklace. Yeah… well… he should have knocked before entering! But were we facing salvation by biblenut or death by biblenut-?
I found myself speaking…
“…. do you work for Time Warner? Because I have a complaint.”
The Rose-Clad Demon Doctor 