“Hey mister! Are you really going to see the Oracle? Is it true he is only a boy?”
“He looks like one.”
“Will he really tell you the future?”
“No, he sees into the past, so far into the past that it can look like the future.”
“I don't think I understand that mister. What is this boy to do such things?”
“I feel like the question ‘what’ is too shallow to divine his existence.”
“You sure are wise."
“You are wiser, Oracle."
“Oh, you knew? From just our conversation? Then you are truly wise. You should one day change your name to Augustus."
“Why?"
“I’m just being random. Leave, I can do nothing for you."
“Your support would mean a world of difference to my cause.”
“You don’t need me."
“Are you sure?"
“Yes, yes I am. As you know, I am experienced in these kinds of things."
I languished on the bed eating popcorn and making the most of the cinematic genius that had come out in the last ten years. I paused the movie, “Want some popcorn?” I gestured my bag to the ceiling. Why the ceiling?
“Let me down!”, two eyes tried their very hardest to fling daggers into my very soul, from the ceiling. That's right, hopefully you guessed it, I duct taped her to the ceiling. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s funny and you are suicidal. This situation is not going to stop being funny, but maybe if you stop being suicidal I can let you down.” Seriously, I don’t like people flaunting the one thing I want but can’t have before my very eyes. With few exceptions, I will not let death take any in my presence. I’m not being noble, it’s being petty if anything.
"What if I need to go to the bathroom? What then? You can’t be so evil as to force a lady to soil herself.” Oh? Is that so?
“See that video camera over there? It’s pretty nice, I found it in a box with all your movies. It’s running, and if you pee or something I will post it on the internet.” Man, I’m such a bad boy. This is fun.
“... you wouldn’t.”
“I totally would.” Without hesitation. “Now, are you ready to be civil and discuss things properly? Or would you like some more time to think about it? Take all the time you need because I have a LOT of stuff to catch up on.” 10 years of absence from pop culture is not easy to make up.
“Fine. Get me down now.” Awwww, I’m in the middle of a Parry Hotter marathon.
“Awwww, I’m in the middle of a Parry Hotter marathon.” Did I just say that out loud?
“Who cares? Wighed, Doredumble, and Dabby all die, Snupe is a good guy, and Parry marries Guinny!” That was such a dirtbag move, you scum.
"And you call ME a monster?" Grumbling, I stood up to let her down because, well, a promise is a promise. After I cut her down, I set her still bound figure on a chair and turned off the movie, no point in watching it now. “Let's get to the heart of the matter, who are you, what do you know about me, and why did you try to kill yourself?” I really am curious, no one has had such an extreme reaction to me since…. Well, there goes my good mood.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“No comment, no comment, no comment,” she replied with a composed face. Seriously? I took a box of matches out of my pocket and lit one. "Wait! I’ll talk!” Well, that wasn’t as hard as I expected.
“It feels a bit weird for me to be saying this but didn’t you crack a little too easily?”
“I know who you are.”
“Point taken, continue.”
“My name is Erin, Erin Sterling, and my family just moved here. I know that you are some kind of immortal monster who has been playing with the human race for who knows how long; and that you are supposed to be trapped at the bottom of the ocean. I-I have never met you in real life before but I know that you are a bad person! You might as well kill me now because I will never allow myself to be used to further your wicked designs!” That was pretty dang hurtful, I think I might cry. No wait, she started crying first. People are incomprehensible, that will probably never change. Take it from an immortal.
I watched as tears ran down her face that was twisting with barely restrained abject terror. It seems like my efforts to lighten the mood had not been as effective as I hoped. At least she was holding a conversation now.
“I’m going to guess that you, Erin, are somehow related to the Pact, yes? Probably a daughter of one of its members. I will not kill you and I am not a bad person, by this era’s standards... I think. . . . Actually, I might have to get back to you on that one. Anyways, I currently have no designs, wicked or otherwise, to use you for. So please stop crying, there is no ill intent aimed at you here. Isn’t my foster family supposed to be the strong ones? Buck up and show me my room.” I wonder, what will my room be like?
“Y-You are really going to stay here? W-Why? Don’t you have some kind of secret world wide organization to rule?”. Hmmm? Oh yeah, there was something like that, they were called the Historians? I think? Truthfully more of a fanclub than anything. They wouldn’t still be around after 10 years though, right? It might be better if they weren't.
“I am incredibly bored and staying here seems like fun…. yep, that's all I got reason wise. Is that okay with you?" Erin stared at me like I was some kind of supernatural existence, how incredibly rude. Oh, wait… yeah; I suppose I am a supernatural existence. Jokes aside, isn't something really weird going on?
“Hey, you can’t be the only inhabitant of this house. Where are the other people?There is no way any proper social worker would send a cute kid like me to a house with only you here." I hope that the world hasn’t degraded that much while I was gone.
“I never said it was just me. Technically my parents are your official guardians. Mom works overseas a lot so she usually just skypes in for a meal or two every other day or so; she is going to be here today to meet you though. Dad and Mom will be here soon and you better be ready for when they send you right back to where you came from! Demon!” So that's how it is. I wonder what my new servants, ah, I mean parents, are like?
“I’m going to let you go now so don’t freak out on me. I promise I will just sit down and wait quietly for your parents to arrive.” As I helped her down I noticed something that had been bothering me for a while now. What is that beeping noise? “Do you know how to get rid of that beeping? It’s really annoying.”
“What? Are you telling me you never found and defused the bomb I made?.” Okay,.... NOT OKAY!
“A BOMB? When did you have the time to make one of those?”
“Dad always says to keep one handy.” Once again, why would a social worker send any kid to a family like this? Dammit Jake!
“Why would you? No, not important. Where is the bomb?" We are literally working on a timer now.
“Under the bed.” Why is she so calm? Not the time to think about it.
“Do you have a good safe?”
“Under the bed.”
“What’s the combination?”
“It’s written on the underside of the bed.” ...Could this be a sign of a chronic lack of imagination?
“If everything is in the same location, then I will probably have time to lock the bomb in the safe and throw it out the window.” Because I think I will have enough time, I know for certain that I will. Edit can be used for little things like this as long as I don’t think too much about it. Time to activate one of my last resorths, THE MOST CATCHY AND ANNOYING SONG EVER! My trump card against stray rational thoughts.
“If that’s your plan you should throw it out the south window. That way it will land in the pool and minimize the damage.” LA LA LA LA LA LA. I started letting the cursed melody form. The sheer size and weight of it beginning to fill every nook and cranny of mind.
“Okay.” We have a pool? That is so awesome! But the bomb….. NO, DO NOT THINK ABOUT IT! MUST NOT THINK HARDER! LALALALALALALALALA! I upped the tempo. I had spent hundreds of years composing this. It was a masterpiece specifically designed to absorb all my attention.
What was I doing? Falling? Everything…. is … fading...
BOOM!!!