#THIS MAN PUT ON A FEDORA ONCE AND IT ATE HIS BRAIN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lucifers-trash-stash · 4 years

Text

Good Girl

Summary: Freddy Krueger has been waiting for so long to haunt the hearts and minds of new victims. As soon as he stumbles upon her, he knows she’ll be the perfect vessel to spread his fear.

Word Count: 3574

A/N: Happy Halloween!!! So this fic was written for @sherrybaby14 and her Fall Into You Challenge, and my prompt was “Why me?” I’ve written for Freddy since high school, but this is the first time I’ve actually written smut for him, and it’s definitely some of the most non-con stuff I have written so uh I hope u all enjoy this insane premise and maybe find it as hot as I do lol I’ve also been playing around with smut in the 3rd person recently just as a way to try something new so I hope you like it!

Warnings: DEFINITE NON-CON! It turns more dub-con towards the end but considering the implications of the fic this is definitely non-con and if that bothers or upsets you then you shouldn’t read it. Knife play, slight degredation (this is Freddy we’re talking about, he throws some “whores” and “sluts” around), loss of virginity, daddy kink, manipulation, tricking someone into sex, and voyeurism. So esentially my nightmare if Freddy discovered what my kinks were.

There were a lot of dreamers that had wandered into the Springwood Slasher’s domain. No one ever came to him willingly, and only a few ever escaped his metal claw. However, the years had not been kind to him, and over time he had grown as rusty as his blades. The people that stumbled into his world often drifted out just as quickly. They simply didn’t scare as easily anymore, and none of them gave a second thought to the man with the ratty fedora and red and green striped sweater, much less spread the fear to their friends.

He simply had to adapt, and Krueger was a man that could devise a solution to this dilemma quite easily. It would take time and the right target, but all would fall into place again, just as it had many years ago. Only a matter of time and he would be back in business.

It didn’t take long for a fly to land in the spider’s web. He didn’t interact with her the first few times she slid into his dream world, taking great care not to spook her away. The time he spent watching her was to gather every scrap of information he could. Her fears, her desires, every thought that flit across her mind as she spent her sleeping hours fantasizing about what she truly wanted. And what she wanted surprised even a man like himself.

He pegged her for college age, a tad older than his usual prey. She was cute in an innocent, naive sort of way, perfect for his intentions. And her plump figure was a nice little addition as well, a body he could really sink his claws into.

But what really held his stunned curiosity were the content of her dreams. This sweet innocent thing consistently fantasized about losing her virginity. And not to any particular man, like a boyfriend or a crush. No, it was perhaps a revolving door of different older men that she dreamt about, whether they were people she knew or they were celebrities, Freddy had no idea. But he knew for certain he wanted to keep pursuing the mind of this woman, and watch her deepest desires fulfilled in her dreams.

All of her dreams followed a similar scenario, whether it took place in her bedroom or elsewhere. Older men with beards, silver hair, tattoos, hairy chests, broad shoulders, some tall, some short, some muscular, some thicker, with large hands that would hold her open as they ravished her body. They would all whisper lewd things to her, telling her how they would take her virginity. Some were gentle while others were firm, depending on what her mind desired at that moment. They would touch every inch of her body, always paying attention to her soft breasts and her soaked lower lips, while she cooed and whimpered as they ate her out. And then they would fuck her in every position imaginable. She must have enjoyed dirty talk, as every scenario involved them praising her up and down, worshipping her, telling her what a good little babygirl she was.

The sight of such debauchery would leave a wide grin plastered over Freddy’s marred skin, his libido raging ever higher at every performance he viewed. He so desperately wanted to turn the dream to his favor, but he had to lie in wait for the right opportunity. It would come eventually.

When he first made contact with her, he transformed himself into one of the men she dreamt of. He didn’t often stay in another form for too long without transforming back to scare his victim, so it was an uncomfortable experience wearing the skin of one of these handsome, older men. Yet she couldn’t tell the difference, performing for him just as she normally would have. He indulged himself, letting her yank at his silver hair while he lapped up her honeyed juices. So long since he tasted from a willing partner, or as willing as this one could be given the circumstances. It was hard containing himself when he entered her, her legs locked around his waist in a vice grip as she tossed her head back and revelled in the pleasure. He even let her curl up to him after as she fell asleep within the dream. He waited patiently until she had left his realm before jumping back up and shedding the skin of the other man, shuddering to himself as if he had just touched something revolting.

He carried on with that for a few more times, until he decided it was time to test what she was capable of handling next. She had been growing bored of her usual dream man, so her mind was susceptible to suggestion. So when he donned the appearance of the man he used to be, long before the fire, she was confused at first and yet accepted him. He was certainly her type, though his thinning red hair was something different than her usual fantasies. He could tell she warmed up to it by the way she ran her fingers through it when he kissed her. Her body fit so lovely against his as he knelt above her, groaning as he sunk within her tight heat. Her fingers ran up and down his smooth skin, a body that was his and yet not. His bare hands could grip her as his hips bucked into hers, everything so accessible to him. Not even his wife had been this exquisite, even at her very best. Eyes rolled to the back of his head as he groaned deeply, praising her on how well she took him. That adorable smile, the smile she made when she had been so thoroughly and enjoyably fucked beyond her wildest dreams by Freddy fucking Krueger, almost drove him to start another round. But this was enough for tonight. There would be many more opportunities.

The longer the charade went on, the antsier Krueger got. This wasn’t his typical behavior. He would have sooner called himself a coward for hiding behind a revolving mask of men just to lure one single woman, but he couldn’t help it. The feeling of fucking her was like a drug, and he was damn sure things would change as soon as he revealed himself. But the real question was why he even cared? Perhaps it was that she would make things harder. Or even worse, he might have grown feelings for her. The thought made him want to retch. He had feelings for no one.

He resolved that when she fell asleep next, he would finally take her.

------------------

For the woman, it started like every other fantasy she'd been living recently. Her dreams over the last few months had become so much more lucid. She woke up hornier than usual, and on a few occasions discovered she had orgasmed in her sleep. It was embarrassing, and yet they were some of the best she had ever had. She thought it was nice to wake up the next morning feeling fully refreshed after her dreamworld trysts.

But this time was different. It was almost as if there was a heaviness in the air, but she couldn’t fully place it. The ginger haired man she had dreamt about recently was here though, waiting for her. She had conjured him out of nowhere a week ago, but wasn’t sure how. Never had she encountered a man like him before, so how could she have thought him up from thin air? He was simply an odd entity from the recesses of her brain and had no reason to believe otherwise.

He waited for her in the entrance of what was most likely a bedroom. A grin flashed as he glanced her over, admiring the nightgown that hugged her form. With a simple coaxing of his finger, he commanded, “Come here, babygirl.”

A shiver shot through her spine, and she did as he asked, stepping closer to him until he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush to his body. Her fingers clutched to his weird red and green striped sweater, focusing more on the ravishing kiss than on his unique fashion choices. His free hand wrapped around the hair on the back of her head, pulling just enough to be firm but not too painful. Whoever this dream man was, she wished he were real. He knew everything she wanted and more.

When he pulled away, the smile he gave her made her uneasy. Even with his pleasant expression, his eyes showed no emotion. It was like the smile didn’t reach them, instead putting on a facade. But before she could think about it any further, he spoke honeyed words to her, “I have a surprise for you darling, you’ll be sure to love it.”

There was no time to question him, as he immediately swept her into the room, the door slamming behind them. She jumped, and yet he didn’t even flinch. She was starting to grow skittish, nervous. Things weren’t as they seemed at yet she was sure nothing bad would happen. It was her dream, after all.

All of a sudden he was on top of her, pinning her to the bed, pawing and grabbing at every inch of skin as he peeled the gown from her body. Her nerves settled once more, allowing herself to relax in his arms, knowing that she was safe. It was her fantasy, her dream. He would never betray her, she was ultimately the one in control of him. The only reason he knew her desires so well was because he was from her head. That’s all.

And then another set of hands wrapped around her wrists and pulled them from her body. Her eyes shot open, staring in shock at the sight before her. It was two disembodied hands that ripped forth from the mattress and had grabbed her. How was she supposed to respond to that?

But then she looked up as she heard a dark chuckle above her, her eyes widening as the ginger haired man had turned into someone else. His skin was burnt, his wide smile pulled across his face in malicious glee. The sweater was now ratty and worn, and an equally dingy brown fedora rested upon his head, the shadows covering his eyes but not the hungry glint that he cast down at her.

Her gaze travelled to the glove that had appeared on his right hand, like a shop project from Hell. Over a normal brown mechanic’s glove he had formed metal plates on the back of his hand, extending to the fingers and from there fastening long blades to each finger, creating a fearsome clawed hand. She gulped as his fingers twitched, an amused sound coming from him as he watched her flinch.

It then dawned on her that she was pinned beneath this man, exposed completely to him except for the gown that was still bunched up around her waist. But the blades on his hand could easily rid her of that. And from the look in his eyes, he planned to.

“What’s wrong, babygirl,” he sneered, the pet name sounding tainted on his lips. “I thought you liked it when a man took charge?”

Her breath was caught in her throat, unable to form a response. She simply laid beneath him, not sure whether this was really a dream or not. It felt too vivid, too real. She would never be able to come up with something like this man on her own. Even then, the thought dawned on her that he looked familiar. Behind his wretched face, he still shared those ice blue eyes and his hooked nose with the ginger haired man.

“I don’t understand,” she whimpered. She couldn’t fathom what all of this meant, if it was supposed to mean anything at all.

He simply chuckled, bringing his blades slowly down to her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting pain to come. But the only sensation she felt was a single cool blade against her skin, gently trailing down her body without leaving a mark. When she dared opened her eyes, she saw he was trailing the blades down her skin from the blunt side. Her breath hitched when he brought a single blade up her chest, coming to a stop beside her nipple, already becoming taught from the cold. She turned her head to the side in shame, trying her best to hide herself from him. But that didn’t stop him, if anything the action spurned him further. He groaned obscenely, his thighs tightening around her hips, and she could feel how hard he was through his pants.

She wanted so much to scream, to struggle, to fight him off. But she didn’t want him to grow angry with her and hurt her more than she expected he would tonight. She hoped her submission would please him, and judging by his arousal, it certainly was.

He sucked in a sharp breath, a second finger blade flicking out to join the other. She flinched again, and watched in a mixture of fear and arousal as he tenderly pinched her nipple between the two blades. He watched her expressions through hooded eyes, grinning as she struggled to cope with the new sensations.

“You’ve been very good to me, sweetheart.” His free hand groped at her other breast, pinching the nipple more firmly than her other one, causing her to whimper. The feeling of his burnt hand along her soft skin was new, the texture adding new sensations that she had no idea how to feel about. “Always such a good little girl. I know you’ll do everything I ask you.”

The more he spoke, the more her body began to conflict with her mind. Here was this nightmarish man on top of her, biding his time before he assaulted her. And yet, she couldn’t help how much her core grew hot at every sweet word that came from his mouth. He was right, she wanted to be a good girl for him, whatever that meant. The thought scared and thrilled her in ways she couldn’t begin to fathom.

“Why me?” she asked, her lip quivering as she tried to speak.

He sneered down at her, never once hesitating in pinching and pulling at her nipples. “What can I say? I have a special place in my heart for the cute, innocent ones.” He groaned again. “And the tits are a great bonus.”

He suddenly pulled back from her, simply staring down at the sight before him. “Daddy’s been waiting months for this moment. And Daddy always gets what he wants. Isn’t that right?”

At first she didn’t register it as a question. But his blades neared her throat, and as he leaned down until he was right in front of her face, he growled, “Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she gasped, the blades pressing just hard enough to pinch the skin of her delicate throat.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He grinned and pulled back from her, letting her breathe again. “Good girl,” he cooed. “But as fun as being your Daddy is, I need you to become familiar with another name. A name you’ll be screaming as I fuck you so hard into the bed you’ll wake up fantasizing about the next time you fall asleep. That you’ll tell your friends and spread my name as far and as wide as you can.” He paused for a moment, as if relishing the thought. “Only you can help me get back to the power I once was. You would do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she repeated again, and he chuckled.

��I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me. Now, repeat after me,” he said, pressing his gloved hand to his chest as if reciting the pledge. “Freddy. Krueger.”

“Freddy Krueger.” Saying the name sent a pleasurable chill up her spine.

“Good girl,” he cooed. He adjusted himself so that her thighs were propped up in his lap, grinding himself against her slowly, watching her twitch and whimper. “Yes, my good little girl. But I have a feeling you’re my good little slut too, hmm?”

He gripped her hip with his bare hand and quickly drug his blades down the remainder of her nightgown, tearing it to shreds. She yelped, but he left her unscathed. “Most women are disgusted by the sight of me. About what I want to do to them. They run and scream and yet I always get them in the end. But you want me. You still want this old burned dream demon to fuck you senseless. How much do you want to bet when I pull away these panties you’re going to be soaking and ready like the little whore you are?”

Her face burned in shame and he smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said before yanking away the remaining scraps of fabric from her body, leaving her completely vulnerable to his touch. He laughed darkly as he looked down, admiring her before immediately rubbing her sensitive clit against the front of his pants, watching her juices soak into them while she whined so cutely.

“This is why I love young women. Takes almost nothing to get them all wet and ready.” He tapped the back of his blade against her clit, revelling in the obscene noises that left her mouth. “All ready for Freddy.”

She wasn’t prepared for how quickly he entered inside of her, a low groan escaping her mouth as her body arched from the bed. She struggled against the hands at her wrists, the sensation of being completely bent to his will was an intoxicating thrill that she couldn’t describe. He grunted above her while he adjusted himself into place, letting out a low groan when he finally bottomed out, staring down at her form as she writhed beneath him.

“This. This is what I wanted. Such a good little whore for me.” With every shallow thrust she cried out again, those noises he so craved. “So long have I been waiting to fuck your little cunt in my true body.”

He placed his glove beside her head, her eyes were drawn to it for a brief moment before he began to set a ruthless pace on her. She cried out and he watched in glee as she threw her head back in the moment, absolutely loving everything he was doing to her.

“And your cunt knows me so well. Even in other forms, it knows exactly who really owns it.” He smiled as she began to look up at him with a confused expression, or as confused an expression one can make while on the brink of ecstasy. “Oh, did you not know?”

He smiled darkly, leaning down to her body as he continued to fuck her. Whispering in her ear, he gleefully explained, “I’ve been fucking you for months now, sweetheart. You thought you were fucking your fantasy men, but I was there, watching, wanting. Then one day I slid right into that sweet cunt and you’ve been coming for me ever since.” His free hand went to circle her clit, leaving her in an orgasmic panic. “This cunt belongs to me. I popped that sweet little cherry of yours and now you’re mine. You wanted to be Daddy’s little girl?” He leaned forward to growl in her ear. “Here he is.”

The rest was a blur. She barely registered the true horror of the situation as she was coming undone right under his fingers. Her whole body clenched and seized, her pleasure awash over her. At first there was a moment of silence, and then a loud keening wail from her throat as her desire peaked. Freddy was the only word she knew in that moment, and she screamed it like a mantra as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. He only managed a few more thrusts in her tightening walls before he spilled inside her, his hot seed filling her up and mingling with her own juices. She couldn't remember her wrists being let free but she was suddenly aware that she clutched to the back of his sweater, riding out the waves that kept hitting her. Eventually the two were finally reduced to a silent, trembling pair, panting and gasping for air.

And just like that he was gone, and she was awake in her own bed. She sat straight up in bed, her body drenched in a cold sweat as she looked around the room as if he would pop out at any moment.

“Only you can help me get back to the power I once was. You would do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

His voice still echoed clearly in her ears. “Freddy Krueger.” The name was strange yet felt right. She was his, and while she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not, she was content with the idea.

For a brief moment her breath caught as a thought crossed her mind. Slowly, she peeled the sheets from her body and parted her thighs to look at herself. More than her own juices spilled out from her, and the reality of it spurned a new desire in her. A desire to give into him, to help him, and he would reward her and praise her in return.

She would be his good girl.

#sherry's fall into you challenge #freddy krueger #freddy krueger fanfic #freddy krueger fanfiction #a nightmare on elm street #my fanfiction

224 notes · View notes

daybreak-academy-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 80

Spooky Scary Reflections

Summary: In which Sabrina wreaks havoc during the Halloween party and Anora’s reflection lies to her. Word Count: 1,681 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

Even though she recognized everyone in the Dandelions clubroom, Anora got a sudden wave of nausea regardless. There was only, what? Two more people than if she and Ephemer were a part of Pyra's study group? She shouldn't have been this nervous. Maybe she could tell herself that it was the way the clubroom had been decorated. The lights were off, but there were multiple battery-operated candles in bunches around the room. Someone had even put a plasma ball lamp in the center of the round table for extra ambiance. Over by the writing desk was a wireless stereo, playing music that definitely fit the Halloween atmosphere.

“We can leave whenever you want.” Ephemer reminded her, giving her hand a little squeeze. Anora looked at him and offered a smile. She could do this. It's not like this was any different than before. She knew everyone. This wasn't going to be hard at all.

“Gang way!” someone shouted before barreling by Anora and Ephemer. Whoever it was ended up clipping Anora's side, and both parties went staggering backward at the impact.

“Urg; sorry, sorry, sorry.” Anora's bumper quickly apologized. They hurried back to Anora, quickly brushing her off without permission. “I heard there were goodie bags, and I wanted to see what was in them, and I didn't think to look where I was going...”

The bumper paused for a moment, suddenly aware that they were brushing off Anora, before looking up at the older student with curiosity. Their respite allowed both them and Anora to get a good look at each other. This new person didn't seem to be much older than 10 years old- her long black hair tied into a neatly braided bun, and her chocolate brown eyes staring intensely back at Anora. Her skin was so light, that it almost seemed to glow slightly in the darkness. It likely was not helped by the dark purple formal gown she was wearing.

“Sabrina!” a new voice called out. Anora and her bumper broke their glances to see Ventus come up. Wearing an elaborate armored costume, with matching helmet, the boy looked out of breath- like he had been trying to catch up with the younger girl for miles. Which was odd in and of itself; they only had the clubroom to roam around in, after all.

“Ven!” the young girl randomly shouted in return, startling both Ephemer and Anora. “You said there were goody bags!”

The Second Year let out an exhausted sigh as he shook his head. “No, I said there weren't any goody bags. I didn't have time make them.”

“Well, why not?!”

“You ate all the candy.”

Sabrina opened her mouth to retort, but froze. “Oh yeah...” she finally decided. “I remember that now.”

Watching the duo interact made Anora shrink in mild distaste. She clung to Ephemer as if the younger student planned on kidnapping her in a blink.

“But wait!” Sabrina quickly declared as she grabbed the blonde haired boy by the wrist. “I can make it up to you! let's head to my dorm real quick; we're gonna put on better music than this!”

“We are?” was all the boy managed to say before letting out a yelp in surprise as she pulled him away. Ephemer and Anora watched the duo leave in a flurry. The young man gave a small snort at their display, but his amusement was lost when he looked over at Anora.

“You alright?” he carefully asked her, nudging her a bit so she'd ease her grip a little. “I don't think she'll bite you. I mean, Ven doesn’t have any visible bruises on him.”

Suffice to say, he earned the dark glare Anora gave him. The young man let out a nervous laugh as he threw a hand behind his head.

“I see you've met Ventus's princess?” Brain mused as he came over to the couple. The Eighth Year student wasn't dressed much different than usual, spare for the long vampire cape. In one hand he had a cup of blood red punch, and using the other he tipped his fedora to them in greeting. The only reaction he got at first was an equally confused blink from Ephemer and Anora.

“Ven's… what?” Ephemer finally questioned.

Brain gave a small snort before explaining, “Sabrina's name means princess- or, at least, that's what she keeps saying. Along with occasionally referring to herself as Princess Sabi, of course.”

“You sure it's not because she's wearing a princess costume?”

“Oh no, I'm pretty sure she's always like that.” he informed them before taking a rather long sip of punch. “Possibly the last person I'd expect to be one of Ven's friends.”

“What kind of friends do you think Ven would have?” Ephemer then wondered- a small accusatory tone was laced in his voice. He paused when he caught himself and added, “Besides us.”

“A mother figure, for one.” the older student considered. He swirled his cup as he thought over what he'd think Ventus's ideal friends would be like. “And a big brother type. You know the kind; all big and muscular, probably addicted to protein shakes. Not little miss Probably-inhales-an-absurd-amount-of-chocolate.”

Before he could stop himself, Ephemer said, “Are you sure that it's chocolate she's inhaling?” which earned him a small elbow jab from Anora. Brain didn't seem to notice it.

“No.” he admitted. “But I like to be an optimist when time comes down to it.”

“I don't like her.” Anora spoke up. It surprised everyone, including herself. Brain gave her an interested raise of his eyebrow.

“Well, I guess there's a first time for everything.” he mused with a teasing grin. “You guys are allowed to sit, you know. Skuld made the food, so make sure to save some for the rest of us. And there's a lot of drinks to go through. Oh, and Ephemer, you're on the after party clean up duty.”

“Got it.” Ephemer nodded. “Thank you for the reminder.”

Brain gave a smirk as he tipped his fedora at them once more before heading to talk to Lauriam. Ephemer and Anora decided to sit at the loveseats with Skuld and Strelitzia. The four of them went into a very long talk about everything and nothing. It started when Ephemer chastised Skuld for wearing a hospital gown- to which she said she was test subject, not a critically injured invalid, and that he needed to relax a little. It only took one glance between Anora and Strelitzia to quickly change the subject. Strelitzia had made her costume by hand, a very beautiful regency inspired dress with headdress.

After awhile, Anora politely excused herself to get a drink. The snack table had been set up against the same wall as the writing desk. A little smile was on Anora's face. This party wasn't so bad. It was just her and her friends. Because the room had been darkened, she barely saw Sabrina for most of the party. Occasionally, you'd hear the youngest girl laugh or shout for Ventus, but other than that it was rather relaxed.

Anora quietly poured herself a cup of lemonade. She happened to look up and noticed that there was a mirror on the wall. As she gave the reflection a little smile, something about the mirror seemed to change. For a moment, Anora could still see herself in the mirror- but she was older. The expression her reflection made was contemplative. Stern, almost. Her reflection turned its head as if it were talking to someone beside her. Frightened, Anora jumped away from the mirror, landing almost directly into Ephemer's arms. How he was suddenly there was beyond her, she was too surprised that her reflection moved to even react.

“Are you alright?” he worried. “Do we need to go?”

Anora quickly shook her head, pointing a quick finger at the mirror. In a shaking voice she even muttered, “The mirror, it… it had...”

Ephemer looked at her, then looked at the mirror.

“Anora, it's a dollar store frame with aluminum foil in it. It's not a real mirror.”

“It's not a…?” she repeated before looking back at it. Sure enough, he was right.

“Come sit back down,” Ephemer offered, “I'll get us drinks. We'll leave soon, promise.”

Anora recoiled a little. “But I don't want to leave.”

Ephemer look at her with a worried frown. “You're seeing things in a fake mirror that doesn't even have a reflection.” he bluntly told her. “Obviously this is too stressful for you. We'll leave after we tell Skuld good bye and-”

“I don't want to leave yet.”

For a moment, Ephemer blinked at her in bewilderment. She glared back at him with a still expression. The young man opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to say something, but nothing ever came out. Their tense moment was broken when a very loud, very trashy song started to play from the wireless speaker.

“Could someone turn that trash off?” Lauriam demanded from over the song. “There are children at this party!”

“The children are the ones who put in on!” came the mischievous response from Sabrina, which was then followed by a near maniacal laughter.

Anora let out a light shudder at the sound and tried to turn her attention back to Ephemer. But he was gone. The Dandelion leader had gone to Lauriam and Sabrina (the former looking like he was about smack the latter's mouth from talking back) in hopes to stop a fight before it started. Not that he truly needed to- Brain and Ventus were trying to defuse the situation as well. Skuld didn't bother to get up, even though she was keeping a close eye on the events. Strelitzia had gotten up, though, and was carefully making her way over to Anora.

“Should we leave?” the older girl asked the younger. “Just until things have cooled off a bit?”

But Anora shook her head- her gaze still dead set on Ephemer. “I'm not going anywhere.” she said under her breath, not meaning for Strelitzia to hear. “I can wait.”

#daybreak academy #chapter 80 #kingdom hearts fanfiction #Anora #Ephemer #Brain #Sabrina #Strelitzia #Fall 2020 #Season 2

3 notes · View notes

purkinje-effect · 5 years

Text

The Purkinje Effect, 34

Table of Contents

“Christ, Geek, you’ve got thrill issues.” Hancock stared down the hole at him. “I’m not afraid of heights. There’s jumping down from someplace, and there’s falling. This is definitely falling.”

“Great, now we have to see this to completion,” ‘Choly moaned. “Angel’s hydraulic thrusters can’t handle that sudden a drop. Not that it matters since I’m not about to leave it behind, but I’m not so good for climbing.”

“I wouldn’t trust me to catch you, either,” Geek snipped with a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’re just gonna hafta double back to that first door an’ see if y’can’t put y’brains together t’break it open.”

“Aren’t you two floors under us?” Hancock continued, increasingly mad that Geek had forcibly divorced himself from the group in such a way, increasingly stressed that the vault was more labyrinthine than any of them had anticipated, and increasingly convinced this was Geek’s way of seizing some kind of control over the situation. “Something tells me there’s a good chance it doesn’t lead anywhere.”

“Well, for your sake and mine, you’d better hope it does. I’ll be fine. I did all kinda a repair work on the maintenance tunnels in 82. I can find my way around without gettin’ caught. Goin’ it alone for now, swear I’ll play it stealthy. Oh hey, there’s another terminal down here.”

“Somethin’ tells me ‘Geek’ and ‘stealth’ don’t belong in the same sentence,” ‘Choly quipped, wanting to wait around to hear what the terminal had to offer.

“Tell me about it,” Hancock agreed, starting into a cigarette and pacing.

Geek shrugged it off, and opened a confidential file paradoxically left unprotected by password. In it summarized the scope of the resident interview process, as it pertained to Vault 114′s planned social experiment. Great. He rolled his eye. Never gonna find a vault that didn’t use the folks for guinea pigs.

“Wow,” he narrated up the shaft aloud. “It wasn’t just Todd Gates. Everybody slotted t’live here was cherrypicked from the rich, the political, and the famous. This one ran an experiment on its people like all the others, but this one was psychological. They sold these rich snobs first class, but would’a sardined ‘em into coach. An’ their original Overseer was supposed to have as little leadership experience as possible, with as strong a hate for authority as possible.”

The chemist bounced his eyebrows once, deadpan.

“So you’re saying that there’s no way to predict just how poorly adjusted these residents’ descendants are.”

“Sounds like the whole tin can could’a used a lifetime supply of Jet, provided the experiment ever got off the ground,” Hancock joked. “From what I understand, though, the only thing we’ve gotta worry about is a mob of Triggermen. They’re bad enough, but also just about as predictable as it gets.”

“What do you mean, ‘from what you understand’? You know about this vault?” ‘Choly glared at the delinquent ghoul, getting to his limit with the situation himself.

“Then it wasn’t weird, that the admissions list didn’t confirm intake of any of the residents. Y’telling us the Vault never opened for use.” Geek stalled in place, everything clicking in that moment, and he slowly picked his head up to glare up in a near-rage at Hancock, who immediately shied from the top of the shaft to pace away from the pink ghoul’s line of sight. “Vault 114. You told me about this place back at the Vault-Tec office. Just how drunk was I that day, not to put it all together until now? You knew. You knew what’s down here. You’re bein’ clean cut straightforward with the two of us right. Now. We deserve it.”

“I’m starting to think both you and Bobbi had the same bad habits.” ‘Choly sniffed with a dismissive sneer. “Come on, Bobbi. Out with it. What were you two doing at a Vault-Tec office?”

“I--” Hancock flustered at the comparison and pursed his cigarette in his lips to shove his hands in his jean pockets stiffly, eyes wide. “I’d hoped you’d catch my drift a lot sooner, is all. I haven’t been lying, just... misleading. Didn’t think I’d have to spell it all out, to be fair. Don’t be too hard on yourself for not rememberin’ everything from the Vault-Tec office, Geek. It was a lot of information to take in at once. Really, I only know what Nick’s told me. It’s not like I had a key inside before now. He and Skinny have history. I think he just finally got unlucky enough to get on Skinny’s bad side.”

“...Hey, nerd.” Geek ate his cigarette filter while he eyed the stuff in the room he’d jumped down into. “That wristwatch keep good time?”

“It’s eighteenth hour,” ‘Choly replied, convinced their entourage had failed.

“Oh, good. We’re in sync.” He dropped his Pip-Boy arm to his side again. “I don’t know how your vault was set up, but I know in my gut that door at the start’s gotta be the main entrance. Gimme two hours with y’all tryin’ t’get it open quiet-like before you go an’ do anything louder, yeah?”

“We’ll give you one,” Hancock insisted, hating the idea of leaving him on his own that long.

“Ideally, we’ll get in easily,” ‘Choly agreed. “If we get in before you get out, meet us in the Overseer’s office. If there is one. Okay?”

“Into the labyrinth.” He blew Hancock a kiss and traversed deeper, down a hall, and through a pocket door around the corner.

Geek found a box of Abraxo Powder on the ground near some lockers, and he picked it up to absently crack open the corner with a jammed-in thumb. Hancock’s juryrigged fence-muzzle thwarted the attempt to pour some in his mouth and he growled to himself as the soap went everywhere but. With a huffed grunt, he tucked the box open-end-up into his jumpsuit next to his heart and zipped back up.

A glance out the window in the wall showed the first real fixture of a true vault which anyone encountered upon entry: the Atrium, a large open social area with a ceiling at least two stories high. Cafeteria bench tables and unpacked shipping crates littered the floor space at the bottom, and a balcony ran the full perimeter of the second floor. He nearly wondered if he were down here all alone after all, but overheard a one-sided conversation taking place. The pink ghoul crept around the corner hall and out onto the second story balcony, and eavesdropped on a man on the third story balcony, arguing with someone behind a porthole. That has to be the Overseer’s office. Slowly, he crept up the stairs.

“--Feelin’ hungry? Wanna snack?” The Triggerman in a black trilby jeered. The response sobered him, and he sneered. “Don’t gimme that crap, Valentine. You know nothin’, you got nothin’.” Another pause hushed him. “Three strikes...? In the black book...? But I never-- Ohh no. I gotta smooth this out, an’ fast!”

The Triggerman bolted for the stairs, and Geek reflexively jutted his foot out to trip him. With him face-down, Geek grabbed him by a fistful of hair and from behind slashed his throat with Cronus, then tossed down the body and stood back up. From inside the locked office, the sound of a brassy, gruff Chicago accent cut off the pink ghoul’s relieved sigh.

“Hey, you. I don’t know who you are, but we got three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains ain’t comin’ back. Get this door open.”

He peered through the porthole, to find very little light and the silhouette of a figure in a trenchcoat and fedora. The terminal beside the locked door required a password, and he didn’t trust his luck. Looking for a holotape key, he patted down the Triggerman who’d kept watch on their captive, and snapped his fingers in success before returning to the terminal with it to instruct the computer to disengage the lock. The vertical pocket door slid up and down in two pieces, and Geek stood there a moment taking in the presence of the person he was bailing out. The detective lit a cigarette, but the smell didn’t mask the familiar lubricants and coolants which belied a human silhouette. He stared into the synth’s glowing golden eyes.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario,” the detective quipped wryly. “Question is, why did our hero risk his life and limb for an old private eye?”

“Call... it a favor for a friend.” Geek consciously endeavored to steady his breathing, and he’d already begun to salivate. Damn my luck, that I found him before Hancock and ‘Choly did. Feeling like some kind of feral animal, he squirmed that he could only stare at the exposed armature of the detective’s right hand as it drew the cigarette up to his lips to take another hit. He swallowed his own cigarette butt and shuddered, unable to determine whether nicotine did a thing for a construct that didn’t even have lungs. Let alone that a good bit of the smoke escaped through a gap in the cheek flesh. “Y-- y’not like that other synths I’ve met.”

“One of a kind, he shined with a wink. “The name’s Nick Valentine. To whom do I owe the pleasure of my freedom?”

“I’m the Geek,” he blurted out. “An’ a certain mayor led me, another guy, and the guy’s robot down here under the hunch we’d find you here.”

“Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain’t comforting, but it’s not important right now.” Out of jaded habit, Valentine tried to distract Geek from the jarring artificial appearance of his weathered, damaged shell leaving swaths of his armature exposed throughout the left side of his face and all down his neck. “I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. Only so many times a body can listen to the same three holotape interviews. ...Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn’t kidnapped. She’s Skinny Malone’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak. Like I said, though, now ain’t the time. Let’s blow this joint. Then we’ll talk.”

“G-- g-- good idea. Nnnowait. I. I. I need t’do somethin’ first.” Shakily, Geek sat at the C-shaped Overseer’s desk and browsed the terminal for a moment. He pocketed the three aforementioned holotapes from the desktop, and stood right back up in frustration. “Damn, it’s just a welcome note for the Overseer. Dunno what I expected. Damn vault never opened for residence.”

“Well that certainly explains why Skinny didn’t have to clear out the previous tenants. An empty vault. Perfect hideout.”

“When they locked you in here, they patted you down, didn’t they?” Geek asked on the way out.

“Unfortunately,” Nick replied. “Hopefully you can keep it hot enough for the both of us.”

“Well, if you’re good with a gun.” Geek handed over a box of .44 bullets and his bull barrel pistol with a sly boredom. “I negotiate with my fists, personally.”

“A pleasant surprise. Appreciate the insurance.”

“Don’t sweat it,” the ghoul grinned.

Geek let Valentine show the way, and the synth detective cut back the way Geek had come, then continued down to the bottom floor to the Atrium. Shipping crates littered the balcony and the space under the stairs, and were piled high against the Atrium walls. Suddenly, Valentine crouched and whispered,

“How do you want to play this?”

The pair peered at the five Triggermen who’d ambled out to investigate the brief commotion from before. Geek let it speak for him, to don his knuckledusters and slip out to dance. Given the element of surprise, he and Valentine dispatched them with the slightest scuff. While Geek caught his breath, he wandered the area and eyed the labels on the crates. One of them had been marked ‘Vault 111: decompression chamber coolant’ and his head tilted askew at the cryogenics warnings all over it. Three rows down, he stopped dead and stared. ‘Vault 82: hydroponics bay kit.’

“Hard and loud, huh? Well, gets the job done. Too bad for whoever cleans up the floors.”

“--Aw fuck me, Hancock owes me a nuke. I told him they never got to 82, half or all.” Geek popped off the lid and looked inside. He peered at the various parts which would have become elevated gardening trays. “Not that it does any good now.”

“Something tells me you came down here for more than little old me.”

“Guilty. If anything else labeled Vault 82 catches your eye, tell me.”

“So some wires got crossed, and shipments ended up unintended places. Not remotely surprised. In case you hadn’t noticed, construction of this place must have been overseen by the Grandchester family.”

“You’ve been to Nuka World!” Geek’s head whipped up with the childlike wonder of a toddler, and he stared at Nick. “Oh man I haven’t been since I was nine!”

“You don’t say.” Valentine clicked his tongue in affirmative. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Vault 82.”

As they continued on through the utility section of the vault, Geek felt very small and very distracted. He decided to pop a holotape into his Pip-Boy to listen to one at random. When Nick gave him the stinkeye, he turned it back off with sorry on his face.

“At least you picked the one interesting narrative among them. Got them all memorized, with them being the only thing to keep me sane locked up in the Overseer’s office. That’s the interview with the individual they selected as the Overseer. Soup Can Harry. Thought taxes paid for Illuminati free mason sex parties. Refused to wear pants. And ate soap explicitly to spite the ‘not for consumption’ label. They really picked a diamond in the rough with that one.”

“Part of the Vault-Tec experiment was to put the most infuriating and unrelenting idiot in charge of the vault. Hate to say I halfway fit the bill, if what you said describes the guy accurately. I could’a run the damn place.”

They passed the Depot and Geek detoured at the smell of more soap. The string of lockers that lined all four walls lay open and mostly empty, barring four boxes of Abraxo spilled around a skeleton which looked like its owner had crawled into the locker to eat to his heart’s content. The pink ghoul took one sealed box, but let the poor soul have the rest.

“You, too, huh?” Geek quipped, melancholy, as he shook the box. “Guess I was wrong about none of the residents ever makin’ it here.”

“Come on,” Nick hushed in agitation. “I just got the door to the stairwell open. It was malfunctioning, but we can keep moving now.”

Past the lavatories and showers, they cut to the stairs, to be met with a variety of directional arrows, which indicated to take the stairs if one so desired the residentials, laundry, cafeteria, nursery, or exit zone they sought. Nick hugged a door frame to shoot a Triggerman who’d been seated with his feet kicked up. Geek ambled up to the body to collect the comic he’d been reading, and his eyes lit up again as he skimmed through it.

“‘The Man Who Could Stop Time!’ Ohh man, this is one of the ones I never got. I used t’have a real big Astoundingly Awesome Tales collection.”

“Heh, it’s all yours, kid.”

They cut through the Residential zone, the layout of which connected rooms in such a way as to provide zero privacy and also house as many heads per room as humanly possible. Just the thought of as many as ten people being forced to live in the same tiny room together made Geek’s skin crawl, but the synth seemed to have his mind too much on escaping undetected to hypothesize how the vault experiment might have played out given the chance. A few Triggermen napped on the bunk beds, and the pair eliminated them easily before any woke to the intrusion.

“More stairs?” Nick scoffed as they took another flight. “Who built this damn vault, a fitness instructor?”

Finally, he got a laugh out of Geek, and the tension cut a bit.

Another hallway with the laundromat and storage closets yielded all manner of loot for Geek, who spent hardly any time or hesitation absconding with anything pocket-sized. He stepped into the cafeteria last, disappointed to find it was little more than a restaurant kitchen with an a la carte window. He turned the cafeteria upside-down when he didn’t find a single paste dispenser, and pocketed all the flatware he could put his hands on. Rejoining an exasperated Valentine, he patted his chests contentedly just to hear the fistfuls of utensils jangling together.

“You sure have deep pockets.”

“Deep pockets, and an appetite that won’t quit.”

“Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are waiting for us, somewhere. The names, uh, ironic, but don’t let that fool you. He’s dangerous.”

Geek frowned. Surely they wouldn’t be ambushed by dozens of Triggermen.

They hit a dead end with another malfunctioning vertical pocket door. When Valentine announced he’d get it open with little effort, Geek inspected the various Vault-Tec shipping boxes for mailing labels which might have indicated anything further. The pink ghoul didn’t find anything but a pair of royal blue vault suits labeled on the back in large bold gold letters ‘114.’ With an eye roll he stuffed them into his jumpsuit along with the Abraxo, and flattened them down down without crushing the boxes so he could zip up. He started pacing and snacking once he no longer sufficiently felt he could distract himself.

“Okay, got it. But I head a big commotion on the other side and everything went quiet. This door was jammed, not locked, so whoever’s out there might have had the same trouble getting in as we are gettin’ out. Once we step through this door, get ready for anything.” He glanced up to catch Geek slipping table knives through the fence-muzzle gaps to swallow them, and the pink ghoul froze red-handed. “I take it the name’s not ironic.”

“I eat when I’m nervous.”

“Suppose that’s fair.”

“--Did y’say a buncha noise out there then silence?” Geek clenched his teeth. “I really hope that’s not the door I think it is.”

“Only one way to find out.”

#nick valentine #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #vault 114 #fallout #geek #the purkinje effect

2 notes · View notes

mysterymannovel · 7 years

Text

Chapter 6 (A heart’s scale)

Exiting the cafe, Shade was nowhere in sight. Glancing about the detective told Triage to return to the car as he went to check the alley where he last saw Shade, and had a look of shock when he saw the gangster covered in dirt, bruises and trying to stay standing by using the wall as support, and to stay awake. “Shade, what the hell happened?!” he said moving cautiously over to the woman. “Silver...eyes..” she said softly, sharp gaze looking up at him. “What are you saying now?” “The man.. With silver eyes.. Keep him away from the girl.. He’s… the -” before she could finish her sentence, Shade was out.

Catching her falling body he gave a small breath hitch before adjusting her in his hold and carrying her to the car. He couldn’t answer Triage who turned around in her seat to see the beat up Shade being placed lying down onto the backseat . A part of her felt good that she got was she deserved, but it was silenced by her morality of an injured person. “Is she alright?” she asked “I don’t know..” with a worried breath, Triage got out the passenger side and lightly pushed Presto to the side, setting her purse on the floor and pulling out a stethoscope and started to listen.

“Heart rate is slower.. Her lungs aren’t moving like they’re suppose to..” gingerly her hand moved to her throat feeling a bruise and she quickly knew what happened. “Shade…” she said lightly tapped the side of the woman’s cheek, no response. She called again and still no response. With a hesitant breath, Triage pulled a syringe from her purse and pulled it out of it’s sterile casing. And Jabbed it into Shade’s leg.

That woke her up making her gasp and start coughing. “Shade you need to stay awake.. Start moving your neck muscles for me” she said frantically, the enforcer complied. Each time she tried moving her throat, she’d cough or have difficulty breathing. Triage ordered Presto to drive them to the uptown hospital, which the detective promptly followed and they were on their way.

Taken in by the doctors when they arrived, it was a little bit later and they were able to tell the detective that Shade was going to be fine. On some medicine to help her airways remain open while it heals. They suggested she stay with them for the day or for two to watch her for any changes. So, now. Presto and Triage walked out of the hospital, with a small sigh the nurse looked at the quiet detective. Who was lost in his thought, what was it that Shade was trying to say? Silver eyes? Keep away from the woman?

The detective was brought out of his thoughts when they reached the car, and Triage telling him it was about time for her to head back to the hotel. Which when piled into the car, he cleared his throat. “Well, Ms. Triage if you’d like.. I could buy you dinner, as.. An apology.” well, this was a bit of a surprise. Not much since Triage recalled the note he left her last night. “That’s very kind of you, detective. But I wouldn’t want to burden you.” she replied with a kind smile, one that made Presto glance away and focus on the road. “You haven’t eaten, ma’am. At least something small to get you through the night?” he suggested, and with a softer smile. She complied.

The car rolled to a stop when they reached that little diner on Norton avenue. They were a little over dressed for such a place, but the detective knew this diner well, had good people running it. Even as Triage was walked in with the detective the staff gave welcoming smiles, greeting him. Seated at a little booth by the window, their waitress was a girl looking no older than fourteen, blond curly locks put in a small bun, a little pale freckled face with vibrant green eyes. She looked happy to see the detective.

And with her southern accent she spoke “It’s good to see you again, sir. Coffee as usual?” she asked, Presto gave a small nod, he knew this girl. His family use to come to this diner often, and at the time she was a little ankle biter. Dreaming of being a singer in the larger cities, it seemed her dream was still going.

When Triage ordered her beverage, this bright soul of a waitress left to fill their order. The detective’s brown gaze was dulling with peace as he scanned the friendly and familiar faces of the diner staff, he only pulled his gaze away when he heard Triage chuckling. Making him look at her with a bit of a confused gaze.

“Is there something wrong, Ms. Triage?” “Oh no.” she replied with a bigger smile. “I just had a small thought is all.” Well, he was curious, a thought so small made her smile? “Would you mind sharing this thought?” “My little sister, Peggy. She would love this place, it’s so colorful and warm.” she shared, looking around the diner. Bits of reds, blues, yellows and greens, the rainbow if you will decorate this interior. All coordinating of course, but still gave the building warm life. Even the soft upbeat jazz playing in the background on the jukebox was welcomed.

But when the nurse turned her gaze back at the detective, she widen her eyes a little. He had removed his Fedora, placing it beside him on the booth seat and pulled the monocle like glass off his eye, setting it with his trusted hat on it’s top. A pair of brown. That’s what his eyes were.

Still sharp, but not dull either. Calm, welcoming.. Charming even. They were like a fresh cup of coffee given just a bit of cream and sugar to give it a nice creamy flavor with a hint of sweetness. Speaking of coffee, the bright soul returned with their beverages, a big smile on her face. Glancing at her name tag the nurse finally saw this child’s name.

Rosey, a wonderful name. Rosey spoke up again, her little paper book and pen at the ready. “Ready for your order?” she asked. The detective glancing down at their menu for a moment as Triage replied with her order. The detective, doing the same with a small smile. Simple orders, nothing fancy or elegant just nice simple meals. Left alone with their coffee, they had some more time to think.

To talk, to laugh. It was nice to see this side of the famous detective. The rumors said he was sharp, bold, and never stopped until he solved his case. Some even said he was a ruffian. Brutish, and shady. But actually, for the nurse’s own eyes. She saw a rather kind soul, wanting to help people.

“Ms. Triage, about the information my friend gave us.” he said softly, breaking the silence and derailing Triage’s thought train. “According to them, there had been a large shift in power in regards to the.. Mobsters. Some businesses are going out of work while others are rising to the top.” he explained, trying to limit himself regarding the police deaths and innocent deaths that occurred in hush hush.

“Oh, I see.” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “I’m starting to believe Dr. Robertson was murdered regarding the hospital. Having an entire building like that in your pocket would make you very powerful… And dangerous.” he said, making the poor nurse slowly put down her coffee and look down at it. Trying to think, remember what was the doctor’s position on the staff? Yes, he was a surgeon. But he also was on the board staff, close friends with the dean of medicine. He had a status..

“Could he truly been killed, for protecting the hospital from mobsters?” she asked, he was a stubborn guy. Never bending to the dark will of others, maybe he refused to help those people and they got angry. “It’s possible. But as for your stalker, I can’t find any traces of them. Although, someone apparently wants me dead for taking your case. Evident by the shooting this morning.” Presto watched how Triage processed this information. How she slowly stirred the coffee with her spoon, gaze losing it’s joy.

But, before he could speak, to offer some positivity, Rosey had returned with their meals. Both detective and nurse quickly hiding their troubles with a bright smile. After that, they ate their meals in silence. And once Presto paid for the meal, and they exited the nice little diner, he finally had the courage to speak to Triage once more. “I’m sorry.” these two words took the nurse by surprise. Why would he apologize? “For what?” “Ruining your meal, It was the wrong time to bring up the case.” he said fixing his monocle. Ah, so it was that.

“It’s alright, Presto. It’s very nice of you to keep me updated.” she replied with a small smile, she was hurt sure that such things could be why her friend was dead, but the detective wasn’t being rude about this. Treading lightly with the subject, like someone who knows what it’s like to go through this.

He dropped her off back at the hotel, it was calmer now. No longer riled from the shooting that morning, staff were trying to return to business. Triage tried to reassure Presto that she’d be fine, and that if something happened she’d call him. And with her insisting, the detective finally left, glancing back from his car a few times before she could see from the window of her room him driving away.

Her mind drifted to the detective, his features, his personality. A kind yet strong man. Her logical side of her brain reminded her that he wasn’t just a friend, he was her temporary employee. Trying to find her stalker, and now the murderer of one of her co-workers. He has no other interest but the case. Yet, her young heart that dreamt of romance, of little fairy tales that warmed her each day spoke of how maybe given time, something might happen between them? She sighed, her exhaustion must be getting to her, she needed sleep. As she rid herself of her make up, of her clothes she noticed on the little stand another vase of white roses. Erik. Soon as she walked slowly over to the flowers, her brain and heart reminded of her of the mysterious, charming, and bold man that was Erik.

He truly was bold, bumping into her at the hotel dinner hall and asking to treat her to dinner. She could admire his tenacity. It’s what got her to say yes, to the dinner, to the coffee date. Realizing though, she had something of his. She stopped her light touches of the thorned flowers and moved over to her purse where she dug out his card, and upon finding the phone. Gave him a call.

From his voice, he sounded as if he was just laying down, a small blush on her face. It was a small talk call, him asking if she was okay, her asking how his day went. It was a soft conversation, she was idly curling one of her lavender bundles of locks around her other hand’s index finger. Enjoying the soft chuckles she’d get from Erik at their conversation. Soon though, he had to hang up and both said goodnight. Her heart felt overwhelmed, fighting over who to chase. Who to leave.

Presto or Erik? Well, it was something she’d have to sleep on. The bed, that she was sitting on she meant in her head. Although her thoughts trailed as she laid there to drift into slumber. Of heated moments, that made her blush, made her pull the pillow from the other side of the bed and cover her face in embarrassment. Stupid womanly thoughts.

#thehwns #milesakashadow #bionicparrot #chapter 6

0 notes