Author has written 6 stories for Sherlock, Avengers, and Doctor Who.
You're in a hedge maze. It's almost dusk, and you're getting kind of nervous. You start to run and think about turning back, but for some reason decide against it. Is it because of the odd compulsion you feel to reach the middle of the maze? Perhaps. The tall green walls rise up and seem to swallow you as you trample flowers and crunch frost under your shoes. You're not sure how long you've been running when you come across a large rectangle of ivy with one door. You slow down and enter, a sense of security washing over you, and find a small table to the left of you and a four poster bed to the right of you. A girl emerges from a tangle of weeds and mutters something pertaining to "hideous demons." She looks at you and gives you a smile, wiping off her shorts and pushing her leggings into her high-tops. "Welcome," she says, and gestures for you to sit down at the table. You plant yourself at the seat closest to the door and stare in disbelief at the tea that wasn't there before, but you don't question it. She sits down and pulls the sleeves of her blue top down to her wrists as she shoots you another unbelievably photogenic smile before it disappears and she glares at the weeds and bushes that line the little area, saying something unintelligible under her breath.
"How are you?" she asks. "Are you cold? Hungry?" Suddenly, there are crumpets and cakes at the table. You take one and nibble on it a bit, but you're more interested in the girl than the food.
"Well. I guess I should begin," she says airily. "Welcome to the profile of the lovely Derp Derpington, or as I prefer to call it, welcome to Tea Time With Derp. I'm glad you could make it, I rarely get visitors," she says with a laugh. "Now, back to the crux of the matter. You came here to learn about me, correct?" You nod. "Alright, well. As I said, I'm Derp Derpington. I am female, though I prefer not to divulge my age." She laughs. "A lady never reveals her true age... though I really don't consider myself a proper lady. I read, write, and draw often, although lately I haven't drawn or read much and it's just been writing. I also like to play cards - it's my prime source of income - and wrestle bears, but that's only on days I eat breakfast."
All at once, she picks up the plate she's emptied of cake and throws it at the bushes, screaming about cats. In response, the bushes rustle and a total of somewhere around thirteen felines traipse out of the plants, either leaving through the doorway or finding a new place to hide. One screeches over under her bed, and she glares at it with a look of pure hate.
But then, she looks at you again, with that photogenic smile plastered on her face, and continues. "I love the weird and creepy. Edgar Allan Poe, Tim Burton. Batman, although he's not weird and creepy, he's amazing. And real. Don't crush my dreams."
You chat lightly for awhile but eventually she stands and shoos you outside. "It's getting dark," she says. She wishes you a safe trip and gives you a real, genuine smile. Then she does something curious. She wishes you good luck, and a sad look replaces the real smile. And then the weeds that make up the walls grow to fill in the doorway, and she is gone.
It is only when you turn and see the pitch black and hear the snarls and growls when you realize why she wished you luck, and why she doesn't get visitors often.