Apparently having a second person story is against TOS in here so I'll work on Bliss another day. To satisfy your happiness at my return, I figured I'd revisit one of my best visited stories, and REWRITE it.
I think you all know which one i'm talking about- Ketchup.
Stay tuned my fellow readers! All of those you who Favorited/followed in the past! It will not be as hectic as in the past, but much longer and well spaced out if I get my way. Using my own rules to writing, I will turn this ugly duckling into a SWAAAAAAAAAAAAANAAAAAAAAAA... too much pokemon I swear. It hurts your brain. Haha!
Have a taste.
Chapter One - Squirrels and other Vermin
It was that time of year again. The time where everyone puts on their best fake smile, and merry wishes. God bless this, God bless that. God Bless my Dick. Leave me alone. In fact, this guy in particular can go to Hell.
"Would you like to apply for a Home Depot credit card and save 15 percent on all your purchases?" The cretin said with the biggest smile I have ever seen save for the toothpaste commercials.
I choke down my initial response, something along the lines of 'Would you like to save yourself from 15% of my shoe up your ass?' and shake my head. He continues smiling, and then finishes ringing me up.
"Be careful with those Mr. Campbell. Always wash your hands after you use it!"
What was this guy my nanny now as well? Fuck off. I waved him a half-assed goodbye and continued out into the cold, clutching the plastic handles of my bag of 'goodies'. I climbed into my pickup, watching my breath fog in the air in front of me like smoke, glancing around at the colored leaves around me, dancing on a gust of wind that ripped through my fleece coat directly to the bone.
I hate fall. Climbing into my pickup, I tossed the bundle into the passenger seat and shoved the key in the ignition. With a frustrated sputtered, the truck came to life and I drove my way home, halfway paying attention. Glancing out the window at a red light I noticed the world was startlingly still. This light was taking forever to turn, groaning mutter something along the lines of 'Come on, change already' and as if on cue it changes. Two lefts and a right, and I'm in my parking lot.
Of course, some asshole is parked in my spot, so I have to settle for what I guess is his, about seven car lengths away. Great. Parked, emergency brake. Routines routines. I almost wish something could save me from this monotony, and then I realize I could go out and do something any time I wanted... maybe later. I grab my bag and lock the doors, walking away from my truck.
Three flights of stairs, one left, and there's my door. Dropping my bag, I fish in my pockets for my keys. Groaning I realize I they are not on my person, maybe I dropped them? I hope I didn't leave them in the car. That'd surely ruin my day even further. Fidgeting with my phone in my pocket, I grab the plastic handles of my bag and tote them back down the stairs and out to my old Ford. The fading blue smiles at my reflection, and I glance in the window, sure enough. There's my keys. I hit my head on the window, and groan.
If there was ever a reason to develop a time machine, let this be one of them. I mundanely reach for the door and try and open it. At first, it's locked... but suddenly, as if triggered it pops open, unlocking itself. I will have to have this looked at. I slam the door shut after retrieving my key-ring. Trying again, the door refused to open. Maybe I didn't shut it all the way? I yanked hard on the door, and the handle, to no avail. Nothing happened... I must have shut it wrong or forgot to lock it.
I shrug into my jacket more and ignore the problem now, fisting my keys in my pocket, as I reach down to grab the bag with my other hand. I verbally express my displeasure with the three flights of stairs this time, muscles aching at the repeated process. One left, and my door is off the hinges.
This... This was not my day. I quickly grab my phone and dial 911, but it seems to be dead, calling, but no ringing sound, no acknowledgement. I glance at the phone in hatred, the three dots after the word 'calling' are not doing their usual dot thing to symbolize it's working.
I slip through my door carefully and grab the closest thing that resembles a bat, finding an umbrella. It will do, if nothing else I'm dry when it rains as I run like a pansy through the streets. No! Be manly! MANLY.
I creep through my apartment and glance at the extent of the damage, but find myself more confused. Glass is suspended in mid air as if hung on a billion small strings, and there's a tall redheaded figure standing in the center of one, fist extended mid punch, his face contorted in rage, lips curled back into a snarl to reveal some really sharp canines.
I blink and it all stops floating, the glass crashes into the opposing wall with a loud noise and I instinctively cover my eyes. I hear my phone dialing, and it's like all the noise and motion of the world suddenly hits me, knocking me breathless. The breathlessness could also be attributed to the extremely tall, impossibly heavy grown man knocking me to the floor with inhumane speed, pressing me to the ground, and then... gone.
Nothing was there. All my windows were fixed, the door was locked and in place. What the hell just happened. Did I just like... hallucinate? Sitting up sharply I look myself over, I'm covered in glass dust, it falling to the ground with subtle cling noises. I glance at my phone... where is my phone? I hear a voice and look over to the left, darting behind a potted plant for safety with a mad scramble.
I hear the person pause, and almost feel the stare in my direction. I close my eyes, wishing for them to go away, and hear them say "Fucking rats, I'll have to pick up something after lunch."
What. I hear the jingle of keys... displeasure noises at the glass on the floor, and then the door open... close... and lock.
What... What just happened?