Having A Rotten Time; Wish You Were Here

Part 4

            Naomi entered the hallway outside Daina's room, breathless from her daily exercise. She was feeling slightly guilty for not taking Christine with her, since she had promised the kid that she'd start teaching her some maneuverability, so she stopped at Christine's room to suck up.

            "Hey, kid, listen, I'm..." She stopped, realizing the room was empty. She shrugged. If Christine wasn't here, then she was probably in Daina's room. And if she was in Daina's room, she was probably complaining about how Naomi, her designated babysitter/teacher had left her hanging when she wanted to go with her.

            A feeling of minor dread hit her. Without a doubt, she had taken the whole idea of getting into trouble and made it into an art form. In fact, she thought, trudging down the hall to listen to Daina and Christine gripe at her, she'd actually made it into a spectator sport. Now she just had to get out of it. She knocked briefly on Daina's door, then threw it open, saying,

            "I did not do it...whoa, sheee-it!!!" Naomi's self-explanatory tone took on a whole new slant as she took in, albeit briefly, on the huge monster-looking creature holding Daina captive and on Alan leaning smugly back in her desk chair.

            "Naomi!" Daina yelled, as Naomi went tearing back down the hallway. Behind her she could hear a loud thud and Daina's laughing, but didn't care. If Alan had the power to hold Daina captive in her own room, where her power was greatest, then Naomi was going to be no problem for him at all.

            She ran into the file room and skidded to a halt as she oriented herself. A low growl from the hall set her in motion again. She wove in and out of the cabinets at random, then suddenly darted behind a tall set of shelves and old papers, going deeper and further in until she was wedged in between four cabinets. She could hear footsteps all around her, but felt safe enough to relax. She'd hidden in this spot before and no one had ever seen her, let alone found her. Even if they could scent her, she was so deep in metal cabinets and paper that they'd never find a way to reach her. Chuckling silently to herself, she sat and waited.

            The smile left her face, however, as she heard a sound that distinctly reminded her of claws shredding through metal...

           

            I was rolling as much as I could in the arms of my werewolf, who was now sitting with me on his lap on the bed. "Jee-zus, Alan, did you plan that?" I gasped. "Low ceiling, asshole! God, that was great! Even I don't do things that stupid and it's my computer!"

            Alan looked down at the floor, where his second computer generated werewolf was lying half-conscious on the floor after having tried to dart out of the room after Naomi and forgetting that the doorway was lower than his skull. "Shut up," he grumbled. "I'm tryina read this."

            "Whoo, don't blow out too many fuses on that one, man," I replied. "You don't have many as it is." He wasted a whole second giving me a sarcastic look, then turned to the computer again and started typing.

            I took this moment to concentrate. I was getting tired of having werewolf spit on my clothes, so I slowly and quietly uncreated the hairy beast. I did it so well that by the time he disappeared, I still had enough control over my power to remain hovering over the bed as if his body was still there. Alan started to chuckle to himself and I worried for a brief second that he might turn around. When he didn't, I floated up toward the ceiling and gently unhinged the panel that my sword was in. I wanted to get rid of this guy once and for all.

            That was going to be hard to do without my laser sword, I realized too late. I had no idea where the thing had gone, but the empty spot where it should have been told me something was up. I was so shocked I dropped back down to the bed...or, so I was hoping. By the most incredible chance, I missed the bed and landed on the floor with a very ungraceful thud.

            Alan finally turned around to look at me and didn't seem surprised at all. "Listen to this story I'm reading; you're gonna love it. It's all about you." So saying, he read to me:

 

                Daina took this moment to concentrate. She was getting tired of having werewolf spit on her clothes, so she slowly and quietly uncreated the hairy beast. She did it so well that by the time he disappeared, she still had enough control over her power to remain hovering over the bed as if his body was still there. Alan started to chuckle to himself and Daina worried for a brief second that he might turn around. When he didn't, she floated up toward the ceiling and gently unhinged the panel that her sword was in. She wanted to get rid of this guy once and for all.

 

            "You wrote that?" I asked.

            "Nah, your computer did that," he replied. "I wrote this:

 

                That was going to be hard to do without her laser sword, she realized too late. She had no idea where the thing had gone, but the empty spot where it should have been told her something was up. She was so shocked she dropped back down to the bed...or, so she was hoping. By the most incredible chance, she missed the bed and landed on the floor with a very ungraceful thud.

 

            "This is great!" he said, laughing at my incredulous face. "I don't even need you around for this!"

            He was right.

            I was screwed.

            Frantically, I scrambled off the floor and jumped up to tackle him away from the computer as a last resort. Somehow, I had to stop him before it was too late...

            But before I could reach him, he whirled around to the keyboard and spoke what he typed aloud, "Daina froze," he said and I did. He took a moment to read the screen and chuckled. "'Somehow, she had to stop him before it was...too late...God, you even read melodramatic," he said. He began typing again, saying "A sort of para...para...what's the word?" he asked me.

            "Paralyzation...Alan, don't do this, please...," I begged.

            "Spell that...oh, never mind, the computer got it when you said it. A sort of paralyzation had crept over her preventing her from moving anything but her mouth." he typed aloud. "So, let's see, where should we put you?" He stood up and began pacing around me, making me realize that the worst part about wanting to kill him was really wanting to kill him. "I know!" he said. "Let's ask Naomi!" He turned to the computer again and began to type out loud again:

 

                One of the werewolves reached straight through the last cabinet, tearing it to metal shreds in the process. Naomi yelled in terror and tried to back away, but he grabbed her up by the shirt, yanked her toward him, then dragged her up the hallway to Daina's room kicking and screaming. The werewolf burst through the doorway, remembering to duck as he dragged Naomi behind him...

 

            As Alan spoke/typed, I could hear my file room being demolished and Naomi's yell as she fought her captor tooth and nail to my door. The door burst opened and another werewolf like the other two entered the room, ducking his head and dragging Naomi as written.

            "Get off me!" she was yelling, grabbing the claw he had her in with both hands in an attempt to peel him off. "Get off me, man; I swear I'll rip your fur right off your..."

            "Just as Naomi was about to threaten the sensitive werewolf's private parts, the beast threw her..." Alan said. He paused thoughtfully as the werewolf raised Naomi up overhead as if about to fling her in Alan's chosen direction. "...no, bowled her against the far wall." Immediately, the monster corrected his stance and skidded Naomi across the floor with such force she actually went partially up the far wall from her momentum and landed back down on her head.

            "Aww, man," Naomi groaned. "This is another world of hurt entirely."

            "Great line, Naomi," said Alan, coming over to her. He stood above her, then crouched down near her congenially. "How ya doing? You left so quickly a minute ago were barely had time to talk, babe."

            "A good run is better than a bad stand any day," she replied, looking up at him from her upside-down position against the wall.

            "I'll remember that," he replied.

            "You do that," she said, with a pained grunt. "What the hell do you want from me, anyway? I'm not the boss around here."

            "I know...just a minute," he said, looking briefly at me. I was getting feeling back in my toes when he typed, "Alan turned, snapped his fingers, and suddenly, Daina was two inches tall in a small glass jar with a lid on it." He paused for a brief second, then added on the keyboard, "With no way out."

            This time, I wasn't waiting around to have it happen to me; I was running. I don't know why, but for some reason, running seemed like the thing to do. Unfortunately, my sprint ended against the glass wall I was now surrounded by. My head really hurt now and not just from concentrating so much on getting rid of things Alan had created. Alan, who was towering over me now, picked up the jar I was in, gave it a shake just to unsteady me, then turned back to Naomi again.

            "Now," he said, "I want your opinion on something..."

            "Yes," said Naomi, "I think you should die from a open head wound, right about...(here Naomi paused to point to the center of Alan's forehead with the gun she had just removed from its breast holster)...here." She fired, taking a brief second to switch her aim to the werewolf that had dragged her in. Before it had completely disappeared in a bright flash of light and a horrifying howl, she was firing at Alan with a satisfied smile.

            Or rather, she was squeezing the trigger at him.

            The gun sputtered slightly, but provided none of the maiming damage that both she and I were hoping for. Naomi looked from her gun to Alan in shock.

            "Because you are completely at my mercy right now, I'm gonna let that slide," he told her calmly.

            "What did you do to my gun?" she demanded, almost hysterically. "You killed my gun!!! You totally killed my gun!!!"

            "No," said Alan, "this is totally killing it." Before Naomi could say another word, Alan was typing again and the gun disappeared in the same manner as the werewolf had; in a bright flash and with a lot of noise.

            Naomi looked horrified. "You bastard!" she gasped. "You lousy demon bastard...!"

            "This computer is really a lot of fun," Alan said to me, lifting my jar up to where he could see me. I flipped him off and he set me on top of my desk.

            Naomi finally came to herself and said, "That's it. I'm outta here." She stood up angrily and started to storm out of the room, but got stopped by some unseen force. She tried to go back, but was stopped again. Alan and I both watched her as she felt her way around a force field that extended completely around her, giving her enough room to sit and stand, but not to go anywhere. Naomi squinted at Alan in anger, then looked around the room before asking, "What do you want with me?"

            "What I want is to know what to do with Daina here," said Alan, as if nothing was wrong. "I'm taking over her body and I've decided to let you decide her fate. I'm probably gonna kill her anyway, but if you've got a better way to do it..."

            I looked at Naomi with the closest thing to pleading in my eyes. She took a moment to drop herself to a sitting position, then looked back at me coldly and said to Alan, "And you're trusting me with this?"

            "It has nothing to do with trust," Alan said. "You can't screw this up, because if you do, you won't ever see Christine or Daina again."

            "So?" she shrugged indifferently. "Color me blessed."

            "Of course, if indirect suffering isn't enough for you..." Alan turned to type and suddenly, Naomi began to react as if her force field was closing in on her.

            "Okay, okay, gimme a minute, you're stifling my creativity, here!" said Naomi, straining as she crouched on the floor with her hands pushing upward. Alan typed again and the field apparently expanded again, allowing Naomi mere sitting space now. Alan folded his arms expectantly as she gasped in relief. "I don't know, man, I'm no good at comin' up with stuff like that," she said at last.

            "Well, how have you gotten rid of people before?" asked Alan.

            "We don't," said Naomi, blandly.

            "Doesn't anyone here ever die?" Alan demanded.

            "No," said Naomi. Alan glared at her, but she shrugged. "Not for lack of trying," she added with a sheepish grin.

            Alan turned back to the computer screen for a moment, then back to Naomi. "I thought you said no one here ever died," he said.

            "They don't."

            "So who's Renil?" Alan asked.

            Naomi visibly became surprised, but I was lost. Was he reading the computer or her thoughts? Alan set my jar down on the desk, then pointed to the screen. "Look at this, I can even read what you're thinking! Naomi's remembering some guy Christine killed with nightmares of his own memories. I could do that to you," he said, turning to me with a grin.

            "You'd need Christine for that," I said, shouting so he could hear me.

            "And it would take too long," Naomi added.

            "No, I wouldn't need the brat," said Alan, patting my computer, "but you're right; it would take too long." He paused for a moment, then said, "I'll come up with something. Meanwhile, you can be...my paperweight." He set some of my loose papers underneath my jar and smiled. "Beautiful," he said. "You definitely add that homey look. And as for you," he added, turning to Naomi, "I need a maid, a sort of 'go-fer'." He typed for a second, then suddenly, Naomi was wearing a French maid's uniform and holding a little plate in her hand for messages.

            "Think again," Naomi growled at him, dropping the plate with a less than agreeable look.

            "You're right," said Alan, nodding. "Robin would make a much better maid." Suddenly Naomi was standing next to me in the jar in her normal clothes and Alan was typing again with a maniacal look on his face.

            Naomi and I rolled our eyes at each other. Rarely did we agree on anything, but on this, we didn't even need to say it.

            The boy had to go and soon.

            "We have a slight problem," Naomi said, gesturing to Alan. "I don't like him and he's still here."

            "Why haven't you left yet?" I asked. "It's not like you don't have the power to."

            "I was about to ask you the same thing," Naomi returned.

            "I don't know," I said. "I guess...I haven't really thought about it. I know that sounds stupid, but..."

            Naomi groaned. "That's my problem, too! I keep wondering why you're still here, but I can't seem to really get it together to leave myself." Naomi paused, then continued with a worried frown. "Hey, you don't think that he..." I knew what she meant; did Alan have control over us even wanting to escape just from my subconscious keyboard?

            Almost on cue (even though he couldn't possibly have heard us), he looked at us and smiled. "Yes," he said, "I do. Fun, huh?"

            Naomi and I looked at him, then at each other again. She had been wrong.

            We did not have a slight problem.

            We had a major one.

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