Finally, the ten last prompts. I still own nothing, you still sue no one. All other messages from the first chapter still apply. The last drabble contains some blasphemy, reader beware.
21. Little Red Riding Hood (239 words, AJ Styles, Desmond Wolfe)
Desmond Wolfe kept his eyes trained on the boy in the red hood sitting down on the floor. Wolfe didn't say anything, quietly watching as he pulled out a small loaf of bread from his basket. It was gone in three hungry bites; obviously, the kid was starving. He stared at his basket longingly, but he instead rose up, sighing, and began walking again.
"You must be hungry." AJ stopped, turning to fix his eyes on the speaker. Blue eyes met shades, hiding the other's eyes from the world. He didn't look much older than AJ, but for some reason, he didn't feel safe.
"M'fine," AJ said, but a quick rumbling gave him away.
"How about you nibble on a little more from that basket?"
"It's for my grandma. She's sick. I can't eat her food."
"Well then..." Wolfe dug into his bag, eventually pulling out a bright red apple. He held it out to AJ. "Here. Enjoy." AJ stared at the apple, unsure of whether or not to trust the stranger, but eventually his hunger won out. He tenatively grabbed the apple, unaware of the intense stare Wolfe was giving him behind his shades, and he took a bite.
A grin broke out on Wolfe's face. A little more pushing, and maybe the hooded kid would trust him. And then, he could feed his own hunger. His eyes trailed down AJ's body, the movements cloaked by his shades. Oh yes, he couldn't wait.
22. Policewoman (95 words, Christian, Chris Jericho)
The radio crackled to life. Officer Irvine messed with the knob until the signal became clearer, and the voice filtered into the car. "We've got a 211 on East Parkway. What's your position?" Irvine reached for the radio, to answer the call.
"What's your deal?" Irvine snapped, wiping the glaze that got on his hand off on the dashboard. "Why'd you hit me?"
Reso just smiled, grabbing another donut and bringing it up to his mouth. "Let someone else take care of that. We're not the closest, we're nowhere near the Parkway. Enjoy the damn donuts."
23. Wedding dress (109 words, Christian, Edge)
"Look at my big bro, all grown up and getting married." Christian sniffled, exaggerating like he was crying. He wiped invisible tears from his eyes. "This is beautiful."
"Shut the fuck up and zip me." Adam snapped, turning back to look at him. He was in the voluminous dress, standing still, his back exposed by the open zipper.
"Let me appreciate the beauty of the moment, asshole." Christian sniffled again, before grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way up. "There." He put an arm around Adam, seeing their reflection in the mirror. Bride and maid of honor, white lace next to blue satin. "You really look good, man. Congratulations."
24. Ballerina (134 words, Jeff Hardy, John Cena)
The Janitor quietly opened the door to the studio, hoping to get to work on cleaning the premesis, when he caught sight of the ballerina. He kept quiet, watching the graceful movements, not wanting to interrupt him. Jeff Hardy danced slowly to a Schubert piece, eyes closed, just allowing the music to lead him along the floor.
Jeff turned around, the sound of the broom falling breaking his train of thought. He smiled at the Janitor. "I'm sorry, lost track of time. Is it really time for me to go?" The Janitor didn't want to say yes, but Jeff had already gathered his bag and began running towards the door. "Sorry!"
John Cena watched his back as it went farther and farther away, entranced. He'd do anything just to watch Jeff Hardy dance for another minute.
25. Motel/Inn Owner (140 words, Edge, John Morrison)
"Hello?" Adam rang the bell of the inn, his other hand holding the handle of his luggage. He'd been waiting for a few minutes, but still, no answer. Sighing, he leaned against the desk, thinking maybe it would be easier to find another hotel.
Suddenly, Adam looked up, footsteps catching his attention. A beautiful brunette in a flattering red dress stood there, smiling. "I apologize for the wait. How may I help you?"
"I need a room for three nights, two days," Adam said, smiling back at him. Oh the things he'd do to a guy like that.
"Good, good. One moment." The inn owner turned to the computer, inputting data with one hand. Adam didn't notice that he was wiping his other hand against his dress- a hand stained with something red. Something like blood.
Something that the dress was hiding quite nicely.
26. Dancer (107 words, Christopher Daniels, Kazarian, Samoa Joe, AJ Styles)
A flash of red spun past, the two spectators clapping to the beat of the fast Spanish song. They could see Kazarian spinning Chris around, both with looks of perfection concentration on their faces. Everytime Kazarian dipped Chris, Chris' arm went around Kazarian's neck; it was obvious to the audience that Chris didn't trust Kazarian at all, and Kazarian was trying to prove to his partner that he should trust him. Joe leaned over to AJ, a smile on his face.
"Ten bucks says Kaz drops Chris."
AJ quietly gave Joe a high five. "Oh, you're on."
"I heard that, assholes!" Kaz shouted, tightening his grip on Chris.
27. Promotional Model (141 words, Triple H, Shawn Michaels)
"Why, hello there!" Hunter waved at the studio audience, a big grin on his face. "I'm your host Hunter Hearst Helmsley, and this is another edition of my and your favorite game show, DeGeneration X!" Hunter paused for a moment before continuing. "Before we explain the rules of the game for all our new fans, let's hear what our contestants could win today. Shawn, if you will."
The camera panned over to the Shawn, who grinned widely. "Thank you Hunter. Today, our contestants can win one of each of these /fabulous/ prizes." He walked forward, holding his gloved hands around the first object. "A pool table." He kept walking, using his hands to frame each prize. "A speedboat. A home renovation system. A two person trip to Aruba, and of course, one million dollars!"
"Thank you Shawn. Now, let's meet our contestants."
28. Fairy (298 words, Rob Van Dam, Desmond Wolfe, Brutus Magnus, Doug Williams)
"Hey, have you seen my brownies?" Rob asked, looking into the room.
"No, I fucking haven't. Now get your arse out of my face."
"Sheesh, touchy." Rob held his hands up in innocence, backing out of the room. He'd heard of Desmond's temper but never really ran into it; Rob was way too relaxed to want his mellow to be crashed by a hot headed Brit.
"'Chuse meh." Rob turned as another Brit, this time a giggling Brutus Magnus, pushed past him.
"Hey man, you seen my brownies?" He got no reply. "Is that a no?"
Why is that towel talking to me? Brutus laughed, running off. He had to follow the dragon to the pot of gold.
"You! Robert!" Rob nodded at Doug Williams, watching him jog over. "Did Magnus just pass by here?"
"Yeah. Hey man, you seen my brownies?"
"Your..." Doug remembered seeing Brutus finish off a brownie, saying he picked it up from someone. "Oh good fucking Christ. Were you really moronic enough to bring weed brownies to work?
Rob twiddled his thumbs, trying to look innocent. "Well... no. I'm not that much of a moron." Rob looked down. "They were magic brownies. As in, you know, with L..."
"I know what a magic brownie is, you imbecile." Doug put his hand to his forehead. "There is no possible way this will end well."
Brutus followed the magic purple dragon into a mysterious looking cave, the blue talking towel all but forgotten. He walked into the cave, shouting out when the dragon disappeared. "Mister Dragon, where'd you go?"
"What the fuck are you on about?" Brutus blinked; a bald fairy in a green tutu stood in front of him. He couldn't remember what the fairy said, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.
"Are you here to grant my wishes?"
29. Housewife (194 words, Samoa Joe, AJ Styles)
"Where the hell are my keys?"
"Did you check the hook?"
"I'm not a fucking retard, Al, of course I checked the hook!" Joe slapped down on the dresser as he combed through his sock drawer. At this rate, he was going to be late for work. Finally, he raised his head, shouting to his wife from the room. "Could you get off your ass and help me look?"
"Excuse me, I'm washing the dishes!"
"My keys are just a little more important now, Al!" He shut the sock drawer, cursing. He nearly ripped the next drawer out of the dresser, throwing the clothes on the ground in search. "I swear, if I get shit for being late..."
"Ahem." Joe turned around, his anger fading as he saw AJ, standing at the doorway to their room, dangling his keys.
"Where were they?"
"On the hook." Joe blushed; he was sure his keys weren't there. AJ wasn't gloating aloud, but Joe could tell he was quietly enjoying his little victory.
"I don't know what I'd do without you, Al." Joe said, mainly to appease AJ. He walked over, pressing a kiss to AJ's cheek as he grabbed his keys. "See you tonight."
30. Angel (453 words, Christopher Daniels, Eric Young, AJ Styles)
There's no warning. Nothing. One minute, you're doing God's bidding, saving the souls of humans alongside your partner. The next, you were on earth, only a bloody mass by your body to remind you of your wings.
Christopher could still remember touching his back, feeling the stumps where his wings once were. Blood stained his fingers as he pulled away, reminding him that he was very much mortal. He spent months upon years upon decades praying, hoping God would realize that a grave error was made and that Christopher would be back in heaven, back with his best friend, doing His work again.
His prayers went unanswered.
The stumps kept him from being fully human, so he could not die as easily as they did. All he could do was watch decades of corruption and sin. And soon, he wondered why he was praying to watch over and guide a species that spat on the goodness his Father bestowed upon them.
It made him angrier than he'd ever been in his existence.
He watched quietly as his old partner stood on a rooftop, beside a human with peroxide blonde hair and feathers sticking to his body with tar. The boy was about to jump, the sting of humiliation after humiliation bringing him to the point of suicide. Allen was invisible to the human, but Christopher could clearly see him whispering straight to the boy's soul.
"Step back Eric. Eric, think about Jeremy, how he'll feel to hear that you're dead."
Eric stepped back, tears staining his cheeks. Allen threw his arms around Eric; Eric couldn't feel the comfort physically, but somewhere deep inside, he could feel the warmth Allen was radiating.
Christopher wanted to push the ungrateful little bastard off the building, make him feel the pain he was willing to give his loved ones.
As Allen followed Eric out, making sure he didn't have second thoughts, Chris reached out for his partner's neck. For a moment, he could feel something like flesh, and the goosebumps he sent through it.
Allen turned around, looking for whatever touched him. But he couldn't see Christopher; not yet, anyway. Not until Christopher wanted him to. In a way, he was Allen's own guardian angel, invisible to him but still able to touch and whisper to his soul.
"Fall with me."
He'd spent decades thinking about him, searching for him. Wanting to give Allen the same enlightenment he had.
"Fall with me."
Their Father was wrong. He loved humanity so, but not one of them returned it. They took advantage of His love. The only way to truly serve Him... was to destroy humanity. And he'd show Allen that, teach him the truth. Watch him fall from grace, dragging little Eric along with him, damning his soul.
"Fall with me."