The man stood, unabated by the snow whipping around him. The double-breasted black suit matched the pitch night sky, broken only by the frost wisps that danced around in the streetlights.
His pristine white teeth stood out, gleaming as he smiled for a bit too long at the girls, leading Sarah to put an arm out in front of her sister. “Hello young ladies, my name is Phillip Turner. What are you two doing out here on this cold night?”
“Oh, you know, just enjoying not being murdered alongside my sister. Are you a fan of blueberry muffins too?” Sarah gestured towards the paper bag with a smaller bag clouded with fresh steam.
The man continued to stare at the girls unblinking, “Yes.”
That’s it. No further addition.
“Anyways, my big strong boyfriend with, like, 32 guns in his car is just around the corner.” Sarah waved her hand nonchalantly, “He’s a former Marine bodybuilder. He did ‘Hell Week’ for a year straight for fun. I think he said he had ten black belts in Krav Maga or something.”
After what felt like an eternity, the man finally remembered to blink, “That is a lie. You are scared. Why is that?” The statements came out one after another, in a way that made it hard to process.
Rebecca tightened her hood’s drawstrings around her face and leaned into her sister, “Let’s just get out of here, this guy freaks me out…”
“Squeak! Squeak!” Carbuncle took a wide stance, similar to when he saw the giant turtle monster behind the card shop with Bruno. He looked small compared to the man, but he seemed to scare off an Italian musclehead, so there was something to him.
Seeing this, Sarah reached for her deck box in her bag and pulled out the cards, “Say mister, you wouldn’t happen to be a fan of that new World Game card game?”
His face went slack again. Wall-eyed and with his mouth nearly hanging open, he almost felt alien in his lack of social graces, much less decent human motor control. “I- I… No.” He glanced away, showing a shred of humanity by shifting his shoulders.
“Now you’re the one lying, freakazoid.” Sarah stood, causing her sister to grab the back of her coat. Carbuncle jumped forward between the two, resuming his growling and aggressive posturing.
“I told you, my name is Phillip Turner, not ‘Freakazoid.’” He shifted back into a calm demeanor, “And you are correct, I did attempt to lie there.”
Sarah took a step forward, nearly pulling Rebecca off of the slick bench, still holding onto her sister’s coat. However, she could not afford to falter in the face of an enemy, especially one that is as inhuman as the man before her. The moon rolled in from the cloud covers, wanning from the last eventful night, but still glowing over the landscape, reflected by the layers of snow, built from the neverending rime, “So you must know something about the ASS monsters!”
“What the hell are you-” Her sister mumbled behind her, no longer holding the back of Sarah’s coat, and almost scooting away from it..
Carbuncle had stopped growling, turned around and rolled his eyes.
“Ass? As in the archaic name for a beast of burden?” Even the strange man seemed to stop.
Whipping her golden locks around, she looked at all three parties, “Uhh…” She pointed at Phillip, “You would know! The, uh… Guys! And they come… From another world and shit?” She whispered that last part, realizing the third party was not clued into this intergalactic war of life and death. “Look, I heard it one time from a turtle that spoke Shakespeare!”
“Oh! You must be referring to the ACE monsters!” Phillip took a stride forward, still holding his bag of baked goods and other food items. “Yes, I am fully aware of them and their presence on Earth. I am, in fact, one of them.”
Aside from the yellow aura he extruded earlier when having a staring contest with Carbuncle, he appeared to be a normal guy. ‘Normal’ discounting the alien movements and speech patterns, of course. “You are examining me.”
“Allow me to explain,” he straightened his tie with his free hand, “I am the being known as ‘The Spirit of Rebirth’. My vessel had come to the man you see before you, Phillip Turner. He had lived a life of squalor and misery, so I had taken it upon myself to give him a blessing and am currently rebirthing him into something you humans deem as ‘successful’, as was his wish.”
Rebecca stood, now holding her sister’s arm. She, too, seemed enraptured by the story.
“Wait, so you’re possessing him?!” Sarah stole a quick glance at Carbuncle who had long since resumed his stance.
“In a word, yes. I am taking great care to maintain his identity and bringing forth the rebirth he requested. In exchange, I can scout out the great war and report my findings to my superior.”
Questions buzzed around Sarah’s mind. Looking at her sister, even more filled hers as she returned the look with overt confusion.
“So who is your-”
All of a sudden, a flashy silver car drove up beside the four. None of them heard it, as was to be expected from a top of the line model of a fusion car. The tinted window rolled down, exposing a man in a similar outfit to the alien creature, “Miss Weatherford and... Miss Weatherford, I am here to take you home.”
If it was not for the piercing grey eyes this man had, lack of previous tattoos and gaping earlobes, the two men could be considered brothers, “Thank you very much for looking after my charges, I will take over from here, sir.” The man spoke in a thick Danish accent as he passed a look that would have spoken volumes to anyone who was human for more than two weeks.
“Of course, I was just on my way home, sir. You young ladies take care!” Resuming his walk, both Rebecca and Sarah leaped in the car.
The inside of the car felt warm. Neon blue LEDs filled up not only the dash, but the roof of the inside as well, almost feeling like a spaceship. The steering wheel had been replaced by a console, something Sarah missed when thinking about ‘Ol’ Trucksie’ still sitting in the coffee shop parking lot.
“Was that gentleman causing you trouble?” Notably, he only looked at Rebecca in the passenger seat beside him.
Rebecca casted a knowing glance at her older sister in the back of the coupe, “No, he was weird, but not aggressive.” She loosened her hood, setting free her wild strands of hair. Shaking them out a bit, she looked towards Sarah, “But he certainly was quite the character wasn’t he? I’d sure like to know his story…”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Standing back in the parking lot, Sarah shivered after being expelled from the designer car. Fishing for her keys, Rebecca rolled down the window, “It was fun hanging with you, best sister. And don’t worry, I’ve already made Kristoff swear he never saw you!”
Sarah stepped up to the window, having given up on her pockets, “I know, we need to see eachother again soon!”
Looking off to the side, Rebecca’s face faded to a frown, “Sarah, I don’t think I can…” Tears formed in her eyes, something that used to be a frequent occurrence, “School’s out, so I can’t just keep going to the coffee shop and I-”
“It’s okay!” Sarah forced a smile, “It’s okay… At least we had fun! And I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure! Pops will forgive me soon, I’m sure! It won’t be long, I’m… I’m sure!”
Trying to return the smile, Rebecca wiped her eyes, “Yeah… I’ll check up on you soon, I’ve got some questions.”
The two sisters waved as the tinted window rolled up, reflecting Sarah’s swollen eyes back at her. As the car silently drove off, she finally found the keys and got the truck door open.
After seeing she made it in, Albert silently waved before walking back into his room. Sarah shed her new coat, a brown houndstooth peacoat she snagged from the second-hand store, her first time venturing to such a foreign land. As she walked into the storage room, still as messy as the day she moved in, she closed her new curtains, pleased with her prudent purchases.
Carbuncle appeared beside her, leaping from her deck box she had placed on the cot. “Squeak!”
As soon as she heard the creature, she leapt onto the bed in attempt to pin the tiny fox/rabbit creature, “WHAT THE FUCK, YOU LIED TO ME! YOU ARE AN ALIEN SENT HERE TO DESTROY EARTH!”
“Squeak!” He chirped as he phased through her arms, still shocked by the sudden leap.
“You saw that guy being mind controlled! What are you doing to me?!” She still tried to grab the ephemeral creature, hoping to actually get some answers from the small mammal.
“Squeak! Squeak!”
Eventually, the two settled down, both realizing their inability to reach the other. With a sigh, Sarah got up to change out of her work clothes, still stained on the sleeve. As she returned wearing a simple tee and underwear, she spread out on the bed and groaned. Carbuncle prodded over to her face, trying to lick her nose.
“Stop. That kind of tickles.” She attempted to bat him away, her hands sliding through the image of the radiant creature once more. Giving up once more, she looked at the creature, contentedly trying to comfort her. “I guess you’re not a bad guy, huh?”
“Squeak squeak!” He chirped as he got up and laid on her stomach, wrapped in a ball.
“Man, I don’t know what’s worse, an alien that talks way too much or one that can’t talk at all…” She undid her hair from her signature pigtails, letting her golden curls lay loose to her mid-back. Rolling over to her side, she stared blankly at the wall.
“I still don’t really have a clue what’s going on…” Memories of Bruno and Phillip swam through her mind. Their esoteric language and grave seriousness standing out the most. Both seemed to be held against their will to participate in this war, whereas Carbuncle never once forced her to do anything.
ACE monsters. Intergalactic war. Possession. Child murder… Fuck, I’m in over my head here… And all of this is through a card game?
She rolled over onto her stomach, something she was careful about doing.
Carbuncle realized laying on her was a mistake, and nested into her pillow at the head of the bed instead. “Squeak!” He chirped once more, before settling his face into his bushy tail.
And I still really don’t know what’s up with this guy. He seems cool, certainly better than that fuckin’ creepy alien ghost, but I can’t really be too sure. He’s still an alien that manifests through a trading card.
Sarah stopped and pinched her cheek. Is this really what my life’s become?!
She continued to starfish on the cot, wishing she had something to help let her ape brain distract her. Man, I really miss watching ‘The Single Person’ or even just a schlocky EC superhero movie…
A familiar ring tone shook her awake. Part of the intro to a classic sitcom she watched growing up with her father and watched a hundred times since played, specifically the part where the cast clap really fast.
Getting up in a jolt, she reached in her bag and fished out the phone she had gotten last night.
“Mmm… Hello?”
“Sarah!” The voice on the other end whisper screamed, “That weird Phillip guy? He. Works. Here!”
Sarah’s hand slid across her face, groaning all the while, “Becky, why are you whispering, you have your own office.” As the words finally registered, Sarah straightened up, “Wait! You mean that fuckin’ weirdo that was definitely gonna murder us last night?”
“Yeah! The one that kept saying his name?!” Rebecca kept up her loud whispering, “That one possessed guy? He’s a copy guy down on the third floor! He wears the same suit every day and never takes weekends! Also something about breaking in doors?”
Sarah looked at Carbuncle, still content on her pillow, “Fuckin’ freakazoid. Can you get me his number? I’ve got some questions for him.”
The bakery’s windows were frosted over even as the sun shone on the pure, cloudless sky. The clattering of plates, the clanging of baking trays, and the warm smell of fresh bread permeated the morning crowd as they stepped loudly on the hardwood floor. Light fiddle music accompanied the smells, further brightening up the atmosphere. A woman dressed in a loose dress, an apron, and with a matching bandana holding back her blonde hair, danced through the excited crowd as she topped off mugs with freshly brewed hot coffee.
“Guten morgen, meine fraulein! Du needist mehr coffee?” The tall, bright, chipper woman contrasted greatly to the short, tired, and grouchy girl sitting at the window side table.
“Eh.” She grunted, pushing the empty mug to the annoying server with the back of her hand. Not removing her eyes from the shapes she could vaguely make out from the frosted window, Sarah’s headache only worsened the longer she had to stare at the abstract work in motion.
A bell chimed as a man in a black suit walked in, appearing lost. He appeared to be the same as he was the night before; perfectly coiffed blonde hair, windsor knot on his tie, and freshly shined black shoes. As he saw Sarah, he shifted towards confidence, sitting across from the girl who had yet noticed him.
“Ahem. You requested to speak with me, Miss Weatherford?”
“Oh! Geez!” She nearly spilled the hot coffee, only dribbling a bit onto the waxed wooden table, “You need to stop being so fucking sneaky, freakazoid!”
He still rarely blinked, almost seemingly like he had to remind himself to do so, “I apologize, Miss Weatherford. I will remember to step more soundly when I walk.” He straightened up, not once removing his eyes from her, “And again, my name is not ‘Freakazoid’, it is-”
“Yeah, yeah. Fucking Phillip Turner.” She took a swig of her piping hot brew, still staring out the window, “I remember...”
The waitress returned, this time with a less confident woman in a similar outfit. Leaving the new girl to clean the spill, the German woman took both of their orders for fresh blueberry muffins.
“So, Freakazoid.” Sarah finally forced herself to straighten up, “I’ve still got questions. And if you know what’s good for your ‘success’, you’ll need to cough up some answers.” Feeling like she was back in the family business filled her with a familiar confidence.
“I am unsure as to what-”
“Don’t be fucking retarded to me, boy.” She took another swig, trying to hide her grin, “My father fucking owns the business you’re crawling your sorry ass up. If I just so much as say the word, you won’t find any of your precious ‘success’ in this state ever again.”
In another rare act of humanity, he stopped what he was about to say and adjusted his tie. Taking a moment, he nodded, “A fair trade. My continued endeavors for information provided to you. Be advised, I will inform my superior of this when they are available.”
Fuckin’ got ‘em.
“I only request a few questions of my own, if that is acceptable.”
Sarah shrugged, “Sure. I’m in a good mood, but only at the end though.” She sat back and pondered her course of actions. Leaving her deck at home, she made sure Carbuncle could not overhear their conversation. A piece of leverage in case she found no reason to trust the little furball.
“Okay, picking up from last night, who is this ‘superior’ of yours?”