April Writing Challenge: Something Supernatural

[Sean *]

It's writing challenge time! To enter, just post a ficlet (300-4000 words suggested) in this thread. When the voting for this month's OTM winners comes around, a voting poll will go up for this as well.

The Challenge: Write a story involving Hammel characters and supernatural encounters. This can be your character as a supernatural creature like a vampire or werewolf or a hunter, or for them to be rescued or attacker by supernatural characters, or even for them to fall asleep watching monster movies and have a very vivid dream.

The rules:

• Characters must be in Hammel canon, but the ficlets are, by the very nature of the challenge, not canon.
  
• Entries must be more than 300 words.
  
• You can enter no more than three ficlets. Any ficlets posted after the original 3 will not be considered for voting. If you want to post more, however, have fun.
• Story entries must be titled.

[Salem Hirch]

Ice Inside My Soul
(based on the Vampire AU)

"Kales? I'm cold..."

Cold...

The word buzzed around inside his skull as he tried his best to sleep. This body didn't really need sleep, unless it was day time. It was however night and every fiber of Salem's being crawled with the cold that he felt. Other vampires were cold, but this; this was different. It was an icy chill that started deep in his heart and filled him entirely. His troubled mind wandered back to that night. To the night he lost the last little bit of "family" he had.

What was once the only light that had shone on his life in so long, had gone out and he was lost again. Salem's brain entered it's usual state of being and kept drifting. He remembered all the times he and Kailin would laugh and joke about one thing or another, or spend hours just enjoying each others silent company. It then switched to Anthony, his dear sweet Tony, whom he had loved far more than a friend should have. Now the thought of him made him feel sick, at least sometimes.

Kales...Tony...

His stomach turned and started to gnaw at itself. At first he assumed it was the mixture of guilt, anger, confusion and other things that he was just not ready to deal with. However, this was not any of those feelings. It was something a lot more primal. Something that kept pulling at him and whispering to him in the dark. One word was repeating over and over inside the walls of his head.

"Eat."

If the young vampire had been honest with himself, the hunger drove him mad. Some of the others even called the blonde a feral vampire. It was true though. Salem would wait until he got so hungry that instinct would take over and he would ravage as many people as he could get his hands on. Occasionally he would even attack other vampires. This was highly frowned upon and Salem was usually ostracized by many vampire families.

With a very heavy sigh, he rolled himself out of the small bed and went to his window. A few pedestrians were walking by.

Blood. Eat. Hunger.

People, with families or someone to love waiting for them at home. Normally this thought would bother Salem, but not now. The hunger had taken over and the good, sweet, caring Salem was gone. There would be no finesse tonight, throats would be ripped. His soft pink lips parted in an animalistic smile, it was even more primal than most vampires.

Eeeaaattt.

Salem jumped from his window and proceeded to stalk his pray.

[Lani Hunter]

Told you so

Lani was relaxing with only the sound of the turning pages of his book as he lounged on the couch. The cats stirred and Lani sighed as Shadow used his stomach as a platform between the back of the couch and the floor. Lani paid no attention to the cat, whose attention was on something else. The other two cats sat up and looked in the direction of Shadow’s movement. The telekinetic didn’t pay much attention as he was far more interested in what was going on in the world of Valdemar.

There came a crash from his roommate’s room and Lani glanced startled for a moment at the wall before rolling his eyes and turning back to his book. No sooner had he done so when Adam came out of his room in a flurry, his eyes wide and he pointed a finger at Lani.

“You stop that right now!”

Well, he certainly had Lani’s attention, Lani raised a brow at his roommate and looked over at Adam from his book. “What are you talking about?”

“Your power, stop using it to mess with me!”

Lani gave a perplexed stare and started laughing, sure Adam was joking and on one of his crazy trains. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Adam went red in the face with anger. “It’s not funny! You just broke my mirror!”

A startled glance flashed over Lani’s face and his laughter stopped and he sat up and set the book aside. “I didn’t.”

“Someone did.”

“Okay, but it wasn’t me,” Lani said and raised his hands in defense against Adam’s skeptical gaze, “I swear.” There was another sound from behind the wall and Lani and Adam turned and looked at it. Lani glanced toward Adam and shook his head. “That wasn’t me!”

“See I told you there was a ghost!” Adam declared and Lani couldn’t tell if he was proud of himself for proving him wrong or afraid by that.

Lani rolled his eyes and rose to his feet passing Adam into the kitchen. “Adam, how many times do I have to tell you? There’s no such thing as ghosts.” He pulled a large wooden spoon from the drawer and handed it to the other blonde. “It’s probably just a rat or something, just chase it out of there.”

Adam huffed and Lani flopped himself back on the couch and grabbed is book as Adam went to battle whatever rodent was running around in his room. In Lani’s opinion it was that creature he claimed was a dog just knocking things over. At least until he caught sight the little dog hiding in the corner. He sighed and went to scold the cats for teasing the dog but they were all sitting in the hall staring. Shadow was standing at that stupid salt line Adam had made.

He opened up his book again, but before he could find his page again there was a series of loud crashes from Adam’s room. The cats scattered as Adam came out of his room like a bat out of hell. “Oh for Christ’s sake!” Lani exclaimed and got to his feet.

“There’s something in there!”

“Right! Like a rat!” Lani exclaimed. Adam just stood frozen and staring into his room. Lani groaned and rolled his eyes. “Give me that,” he snatched the spoon out of Adam’s hand and made his way to Adam’s room. “It’s in the closet?”

“Y-yeah,” Adam stuttered, “Careful.”

“I’m not afraid of a rat,” Lani said harshly giving Adam a glare before he stepped over the line into Adam’s room. He swore to god if he had to check Adam’s closet for monsters he was going to kick him out. Lani felt around with his power searching for something that was making things move. His power was coming up empty. He opened the closet and went to flip on the light.

Lani jumped as the bulb flashed and went out with a faint pop. He shook his head, Adam had him jumpy. Why did it feel so cold over here? He ducked to look down among Adam’s shoes when a CD went flying over his head and crashed into the wall.

He looked back into the empty room. “Very funny, Adam,” he said rising and he sighed scratching his head, he couldn’t find any evidence of anything messing around in things. He took a few steps out into the room and looked at the damaged mirror. It didn’t look like anything had hit it or otherwise been knocked into it.

Lani’s power caught another projectile and surged out looking for the source. He followed his power with his eyes and came face to face with… with something. Lani let out an uncharacteristic shriek and fell back in the face of the ghost. He scrambled to his feet and bolted out the door, flying through the doorway with so much force that he bowled over Adam and collided them both with the opposite wall. Clinging to Adam, he turned in time to see the gray faced melting ghost flying at them and he was well on his way to wishing the world goodbye, but the ghost only to dissipate at the doorway over the salt. Lani plastered himself to the wall, his eyes wide and his heart racing. His muscles tense and his brain short circuiting.

“Adam?” Lani whispered in shock.

“Yeah?” Adam replied in a whisper.

“I-I think we should call a professional.”

[Gryphon Matsuoka]

Much Overpowered, Such Chaos
(I hope this counts as supernatural - it would make her into a monster so xD)

Georgina’s eyes gently fluttered open that beautiful morning, whatever the day was. Did it matter? It didn’t matter. Unless it was Christmas. It wasn’t Christmas. It didn’t matter. The Sun was beaming down on her joyfully, and the British girl… well, she twisted, stretched and contorted her body, trying to wake up as she grumbled and moaned in annoyance at gleaming mass as it intruded her sleep through her window, her attitude in defiance of its blinding happiness.

George, clearly, was not a morning person.

She rolled about a bit and put her hand out instinctively to support her weight between her bed and her bedside table, so she didn’t crumple onto the ground, as she was so used to doing every tedious morning. Gravity was an absolute bitch. The brunette girl eventually sat up and yawned at the silent ceiling, when she felt something a little odd. Well, heard something.

She could hear someone’s voice.

Don’t worry, this wasn’t her long expected confirmation of insanity – it wasn’t just some random voice telling her to go do weird shit. It was a voice she could recall.
And it kept talking and talking and talking and holy fucking hell, she thought she was bad, but this person didn’t stop gabbing for one second! Jesus Christ, didn’t they need to breath, or something? ‘Cause, y’know, breathing was minorly important when it came to staying alive.

~Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive, ah ah ah ah!~

‘Go away, Moriarty!’ George shouted at herself in her head - damn Sherlock. She loved Moriarty though. He was awesome. Reminded her of herself. Was that supposed to be concerning? He was her favourite character from Sherlock. She remembered reading somewhere that your favourite characters reflect who you are. Maybe it was concerning. See, she could remember this shit, but her actual education just buggered off into the town of amnesia when she needed it. Sometimes. She could be intelligent. Like Moriarty. But she wouldn’t try blowing up multiple people because she was bored.

…

...

…well, it would really depend on -

It was in that moment that, as she tried to detract her thoughts away from a certain brilliantly insane psychopath and her similarities to him, she realized there was more than one voice circling her head now. They were all different, different genders, accents, contexts… she recognized most of them as her fellow students and friends. Which was odd enough on its own, but it sounded like every single one of them was in the room with her – when that was physically impossible, and, as usual, her room was empty, barring from the girl herself, her walls plastered with actors and things she was in the fandoms of, and the multitude of plushies she owned. Forever alone, much.
But voices, voices… why were the voices in her head? This was stupid and crazy and weird and what was even going on and oh God why did the universe hate her so much? Gaahh.

She decided to get changed and explore, possibly ask for help with the voices (if there would be any sane way of asking for help), so, lollipop in mouth, she went over to- wait, shit, what? She didn’t pick up a lollipop! Hell, she’d barely moved from the edge of her bed! Granted, they were right there, by her feet, and the bag was open, but she most definitely hadn’t moved enough to get a lollipop. She would’ve remembered using up her energy to do that. As she was pondering how this all happened, the sugary ball on a stick rose out of her mouth and into her vision, and she studied it for a moment, before screaming at it, making it fall rapidly to the floor. She just wanted a second to think about what the fuck was going on!

And so she had it. Time… slowed down. She observed the lollipop which… still… hadn’t… hit… the… floor… okay, this was beyond strange. Beyond the normal strange that George had to deal with as a result of being the human being that she was. She bent down a little, the adrenaline, sugar and confusion all doing a fairly decent job of waking her up, and took the sweet up by its stick before it even reached the ground at its snail’s pace, and as she did, things felt a little more… normal again. And she realized the voices were gone.

Until she thought about them, then they came back again. ARGH!

“SALEEEEEEEEEM!” She shouted for her roommate, who came bursting in a few seconds later, a look of worry across his face at the fact that she had practically screamed his name.

“George, are you…?”

“Salem. I can hear voices.”

The blonde boy planted a cheeky smirk onto his features, relaxing visibly at what he expected was just one of the British girl’s jokes, “Now George, we’ve talked about this-“

“No, Salem, seriously.” She tried to look serious. It was difficult. Georgina naturally was very un-serious. She grabbed her emergency fedora from the edge of her bed (everyone needs emergency fedoras, come on) and pulled the rim over her eyes, “Something is going on right now.”

Salem gave the strange girl a look of confused confusion, “Can you be a little more specific…?”

George was trying to work out what it was that was going on in that there moment, being more specific was just bordering on the possibility of being a very much impossible task. “Um, um, um...” She looked around for something to help her… “…gimme a power.” So far, she could hear voices, move things with her mind and… and slow down time. So, if she remembered correctly, that would be…. Telepathy, telekinesis and time… kinesis. Maybe there was more she could do?

He thought for about a millisecond, before frowning in decision, “Uh… mine? Projected illusions? …why?”

She nodded and thought about his power and thought about the first thing that came to mine (so… hats) and then there, in front of them, floated a projected fez. Because fezzes were cool. Salem gave her a look of incredulity, and she smiled, trying to ignore the minor ache her eyes felt. She blinked a couple of times to get rid of the image, and then looked up at Salem expectantly.

He stood a little straighter and crossed his arms, “…pyrokinesis?”

(Fire? Really? Give the pyromaniac the realization that she might be able to actually play with fire?) She gained a cheeky, verging on devilish grin and thought about fire, heat, flames, and clicked the fingers of her right hand. They acted like a lighter, and there was now a flame flickered out of the end of her pointed thumb. She looked at it with a Cheshire cat smile and wild eyes, which shot up to look at her roommate.

“…oh shit.”

Grin.

“George.”

Grin grin.

“Put the fire away.”

Her smile dissolved rapidly, and her eyes resembled that of a puppy dog that wanted food, “Awh, but-“

“I don’t care about your butt, put it out!”

George (eventually, and sadly) shook the flame out and stood up, using her newfound abilities to pick up her fake glasses at the same time, which were sat on the table a short distance away from her. She zoomed them over to her hands, and then manually put them on her face. She nodded sharply once to Salem and approached the doorframe, “I have to figure this shit out.”

The boy hesitated in the doorframe, “Uh, George?”

“What is the issue, Salem the Lump Lord?”

“…you’re still in your pyjamas.”

George looked down at her dinosaur onesie, and nodded again, “So I am!” And with that, she walked out of her bedroom and waited for Salem to leave as well, closing her door with her mind and she left the common room of their dorm, leaving Salem in a very much confused state of curious fear.

She could use any ability that came to mind, so far. The crazy hat lady was enjoying this very much. And she knew who she wanted to see about it.

The brunette girl span down the corridor, arms out wide, face stretched into a grin. The room that she was walking to – its door opened as she approached it, and she continued to smile, but now directly at the body of the person who was now in her sights. She stretched an arm up to go around his shoulders, “Oriel! My main man! I need to show you something.”

The taller boy jumped a little at first, looked her over in her… onesie and chuckled at her bursting energy, letting her lead the way to wherever, “Alright then.”

After multiple awkward steps and lots of suppressed giggles, which both made Oriel laugh along and get acutely frightened for his life, they reached the pond. She pushed the boy in front of her, “Okay… okay.”

Oriel smiled down at her and looked around, “And…?”

“Gimme a power.” She demanded.

“What are you on-“

“A POWER, ORI-BUTT! A meta power!”

“Um, ah shit, I dunno…”

George grew impatient, “Oh, come on! I have one, you have one, Phen has one, other people have them, how hard is it to come up with one?” Obviously too hard for the girl to do herself. She huffed, “Look, I’ll start you off – pyrokinesis.” (Which was not-so-slowly becoming a fast favourite of her’s, even though she’d tested fewer powers than she had fingers on both hands) She did the same as before, clicking her fingers together and producing a flame. Oriel was… slightly worried. And with good reason.

“Holy shit,” He blinked, “George, you better not be fucking with me right now.”

“I totally am not doing just that.” She said, with her trademark grin teasing her mouth, “’Nother power!”

“Uh,” his eyes caught on the nearby body of water, “…hydrokinesis?” If she could control one of the elements, then maybe…?

George looked over at the water and stretched out her arms to their full lengths, pinching onto the empty air in front of her. She pulled her arms up and down in turn, as if controlling some huge puppet, or making two ginormous cups of tea, and the water in front of her went with them, swaying up and crashing down and she moved them. She let go of the water and turned back to Oriel, smiling madly.

This was absolutely fucking insane.

“What’s Phen’s power?”

“Um… pixie wings.”

“Ooh!”

“George-“

“What?!”

“They come with a hallucinogenic dust.” He’d been on that stuff only a few times and… well, George was bad enough now, with her wild imagination and bursts of energy, not to mention the fact that she was eating sugar right now was probably making her even more hyper than usual…

“What’s that do?”

“It’s drugs.” To put it bluntly.

Bluntly. Heh.

George’s brow furrowed, “Seriously, Phen carries drugs around?”

Oriel went to answer, but-

“Never mind, I wanna fly!” Her eyes widened at her suddenly happy realization, “I don’t need wings to fly!” She burst out, beaming widely. So, of course, she began to lift off the ground. She was a little shaky at first, but slowly levelled out, and grinning, began whizzing around Hammel, through the air,

“THIS

IS

AWWWWWWEEESSSOOOOOMMMMEEEEEE!!!”

And so, Hammel was doomed.

The End.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Not Just a Cliche

The apartment was opulently furnished: expensive artwork hung from the walls, and the furniture was delicately carved and covered with soft blankets. Vases and ornaments were arranged on tables and shelves, wood and porcelain and marble trinkets in all shapes and sizes.

So many had been gifts, bought because he'd commented on their beauty in passing. He had initially been flattered by the attention, particularly as he had been so smitten by the one giving it.

He shifted on the sofa, setting aside the newspaper he'd finished reading. The extravagance of their shared lifestyle had lost its shine, replaced by feelings of suffocation. There was still the same burning need he had suffered from during the initial stages of their romance, but it was intermixed with the sensation of smothering.

The door creaked open and a tall broad shouldered young man emerged, snow flurries drifting in behind him before he slammed the door shut.

"Welcome home." Josh offered the taller man a tense smile.

"Thank you. How has your day been?"

"It's been fine." He wouldn't mention any if his misgivings; he couldn't. Whatever he felt he was trapped. And what was worse was that he'd been warned this would happen, but he'd been so smitten he hadn't listened. It had seemed unbelievable that he might regret this relationship.

And yet he longed for freedom.

But what could he do? He couldn't leave; doing so would literally kill Sean. He couldn't have the weyr bear's death on his shoulder. He still had affection for him, and he would rather suffocate than kill him by leaving.

He couldn't tell Sean any of this, though. And he couldn't tell Greg or Daphne, who had both warned him and elicited promises that he was sincere in his interest.


Sean pulled off his boots before crossing the room, settling onto the sofa beside Josh. "I brought you something."

Josh forced a smile. Another gift. He couldn't reject it; he had seen how weyrs reacted when their presents were turned down. He had expected the steady stream of gifts to eventually die down, but he should have known. Every single weyr he knew lavished gifts upon their lovers, particularly the ones who worked for Yvette.

Sean's smile faltered. "You don't look happy. Is something wrong?"

Josh struggled to make his smile more convincing. "No! No, nothing is wrong."

Sean scooted closer, gift forgotten for the moment. “But something is wrong.”

The weyr’s brow furrowed as he considered Josh and the curved line his body made that said very clearly that he was unhappy, that the too quick reassurance was a lie. “You can tell me.”

Josh shook his head. “I can’t.”

As the words fell from his lips he winced, regretting the unintended confirmation immediately. More than that, he regretted the look of hurt that crossed Sean’s face.

“But we’re best friends,” Sean whispered, his voice more even than his expression suggested it should have been. “We’re partners. We’re bonded.”

And that was why, Josh thought. That was why he couldn’t say anything. But the look of pure pain that his boyfriend gave him wrung him with such guilt that eventually he managed, in an almost inaudible voice. “I think I need a vacation.”

A look of confused relief crossed Sean’s face as he rushed to agree, “Oh, we can go on a vacation. I can put in leave toni---”

Josh cut him off quickly. “No, just me. I need to be alone.”

The hurt returned to Sean’s face.

“I’m sorry.” Josh dropped his gaze to his hands, clenched tightly in his lap. “I just...I feel so overwhelmed lately.”

Sean nodded and released the human man from his embrace, slowly pushing himself off the sofa and leaving the room.

Josh felt miserable.

---

It was to the weyr-bear’s credit that he didn’t try to prevent Josh from leaving, either through words or physical restraint. Instead the next day he had presented his boyfriend with reservations to a resort, a month long holiday, and tickets there and back.

“I can drive you to the airport, if that won’t be too much trouble.” He offered, looking so hopeful that Josh reluctantly and rather guiltily agreed.

During the drive, Sean haltingly attempted to broach the subject of Josh’s need for alone time. “Did I do something wrong?”

Josh sighed, turning to look out the window at the towering skyscrapers passing by. “No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s just so...so...it’s all too much sometimes. All the gifts, all the together all the time-ness.”

Sean considered this for a moment. “Do you want to leave?”

“No!” Josh barked, then, “I know that would kill you.”

“Is that the only reason?”

Josh risked a glance at his lover, reading misery all over Sean’s body and tone. “....no. But I do need time alone.”

“Maybe you should pretend to be single for awhile,” Sean suggested. “I can share you. I don’t mind.”

Josh sighed again.

---

The resort was breathtakingly lovely. Josh couldn’t help but look about with awe as he checked in; although he and Sean lived in luxury, this was a different sort of lovely. Everything had the relaxed, buoyant air of summer. A summer lived year round, in this instance, but the resort hadn’t lost any of that aura.

Josh decided to ignore the fact that this was yet another gift; he also decided to ignore the loneliness that threatened to well up when he entered his room and realized that he really was going to be alone for a whole month.

He could go back now, but then the oppressive togetherness would get to him again. He needed this break.

After unpacking he curled up into the bed, pulling the light-weight covers around him. The bed really did feel huge without Sean taking up the other half.

He firmly squashed that line of thought.

This was a break.

---

The next few days were spent in leisurely relaxation. He wandered down to the resort buffet when he awoke, feasting on the fresh fruit and waffles and omelettes provided. He lounged about the pool, and wandered along the edge of the shore picking up shells and kicking the foam that lapped up around his bare feet. At night he drank, and listened to local bands twanging on ukuleles.

Sometimes he flirted with the waiters, or other vacationers, but he always felt so guilty and awkward about it that it never lasted very long.

Until near the end of the first week he met another man close to his age.

Short and blond and bespectacled, Cobalt Weaver was the opposite of Sean in just about every way imaginable. He had looked so melancholy when Josh had first seen him, that he’d simply had to offer a smile and sit down beside him.

It had turned out that they had a lot in common, including an interest in legal matters, and in civil rights. Although they’d parted ways, when they saw one another the next night Cobalt had smiled at him.

Josh wasn’t entirely sure if what he felt was interest. He still felt guilty, because he was already committed. But he remembered what Sean had said.

Maybe a hook up would make him feel a little better.

And so when Cobalt invited him back to his room, Josh agreed.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this,” Josh cautioned as Cobalt shut the door behind them. Of course, a long time was perhaps not entirely truthful; he’d never had any hook ups. In fact, the only person he’d ever had sex with was Sean. But it was a long time since they’d been together for the first time, which Josh thought maybe counted.

Cobalt shrugged and went over to his nightstand. “That’s fine.”

“Oh. Ah..” Josh began, the nightstand reminding him of one of the most important aspects of sex. He assumed that Cobalt was in that direction for the same reason. “I’m glad you remembered, I almost forgot to ask if you had any condoms. I don’t have any on me.”

The blond snorted into the drawer, pulling out a handgun. “We don’t need any condoms. But I do need you to make a phone call for me. I have a score to settle with a Sean Neville. Perhaps you know him?”

Josh blanched. In no scenario that he’d mentally played out had gun been involved. “Ahhh.” He stammered, suddenly finding all ability to think very difficult.

Cobalt nudged the gun at Josh. “Come on, call him up. The phone’s right here.”

Josh shakily made his way over to the nightstand beside Cobalt. He had to redial several times, fumbling the numbers through trembling fear .

At last Sean picked up. “Hello, this is the Neville residence.”

“S-s-s-sean?”

“Josh?” The weyr’s happiness was apparent through tone alone.

“Ahh….ahh...th-there’s...s-s-someone who’s r-r-really angry a-at you.”

Cobalt rolled his eyes and snatched the phone out of Josh’s hands. “I have your boyfriend, Neville. You had better back off if you want to see him again."

Josh squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to listen to the threats. Trying not to think about the gun. He didn't want to die; this was a vacation, it shouldn't have been dangerous. But wasn't that why so many of Yvette's' employees kept their mates hidden away? Anyone who worked for the dragon shifter was bound to make enemies because of her position of authority and her business dealings.

He couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, but Cobalt seemed satisfied with it. At least, he didn't aim his gun at Josh again. Instead he waved lazily towards his bed. "Get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Josh was too terrified to sleep, but he obediently laid himself down. He wondered what history Cobalt and Sean had that kidnapping him seemed like a good idea. It was probably something to do with Yvette; her policies were not always popular among other species. Since he was only a human, and not even a gifted one. He couldn't tell what cobalt was. He wasn't a vampire since he could be out in the sun, but that left a host of other species: demons, witches, djinn, elves, faeries. He could even be a goblin using some sort of glamour.

The next morning he awoke exhausted from poor sleep, and immediately had his question answered.

"Get up, we can't keep queen Lahja waiting all day."

Josh recognized that name. The queen of the faeries.

"You're a faerie!"

The shorter man snorted. "I'm your escort. The queen wants a word with your lover, and she needs a bargaining chip."

Josh did not want to be a bargaining chip. He didn't even want to be involved with this at all. "So Sean's going to be there....?"

He wasn't sure how he felt about this, given the last time he'd seen his boyfriend. It was awkward enough asking for a break, and now he was kidnapped because he tried to hook up with a faerie. This wasn't precisely how he had envisioned his vacation going.

And, to make matters worse, his kidnapper didn't even allow him to stop at the breakfast buffet! But although he normally dragged without his morning coffee, being someone's captive did provide a certain amount of adrenaline to keep him alert.

"Into the car," cobalt gestured to a dilapidated vehicle that Josh couldn't even believe existed. No self-respecting employee of Yvette would be caught dead in that thing.


He must have been staring, as Cobalt snarled his order a second time.

This time Josh listened, scrambling into the passenger seat. "Is it a long drive?" He asked as Cobalt slid into the driver's side.

"We have to find the passage into fairie and it changes." cobalt explained. Josh heaved a sign he looked out the window. He wondered if Queen Lahja would really kill him if Sean didn't do what she asked. He'd heard that faeries were ruthless in their political dealings, but that was true of all supernaturals.

It was true of his own species.

The engine sputtered unevenly to life, and the little car jerked forward. Josh thought he might get motion sickness if the ride took longer than about ten minutes.

Cobalt drove in fits and starts, winding along back roads that required an unfortunate amount of red lights.

Josh closed his eyes and put his head between his hands, trying to ignore the shaking of the ancient vehicle. Another jittery stop rattled his teeth in his skull, and he waited with dull anticipation for the rackety start as the car moved forward again.

Instead cobalt cursed, and then the door swung open with a screech of scraping metal and an ear splitting roar.

Josh's head jerked up in time to see a large brown paw swing toward him. Cobalt was fighting something else, but he couldn't tell what; not when he was being smothered by something large and furry and growling.

He struggled against his newest captor, shouting in panic. Sean wouldn't kno where to look for him if some other faction intervened, and then he might never see the weyr again! And although he had been consumed with doubts before his vacation, he knew now that a permanent separation would be more miserable than he could contemplate.

His struggling was in vain, however. The beast burdened with him barely seemed to notice his distress, and the fairies vehicle was rapidly left behind. At last they approached a sleek limo, and the creature set him down gently.

Josh collapsed against thr limo, breathing heavily and eyeing his new kidnapper warily. The shaggy giant bear transformed before his eyes into -a familiar form.

"Sean!"

He pushed himself against the limo and wrapped both arms around his lover. "I missed you." He whispered. "Even before...this..."

"I missed you, too" Sean mumbled into Josh's hair. "But we need to get out of here. Devon and Ferris and Rome can't hold off Cobalt forever, not by themselves."

Josh nodded and reluctantly released the weyr bear, opening the back door of the limo. He nodded to Rhea, who glowered at Sean as he slipped in behind the human.

"Left me out of the fun, you did," she huffed, taking off almost as soon as the door was closed.

Sean didn't answer her, instead hesitantly shifting to allow space between himself and Josh. The dark haired man slid one hand across the seat between them to lace fingers with Sean and then wordlessly pushed himself across to press against his mate.

He would never question their relationship again.

"I love you."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Anji

Something was wrong with the apartment.

Sean immediately felt a sense of foreboding on the first day that they had moved in, but he dismissed it as psychic backlash. Not everyone in their apartment building approved of two (young) adult men living together, particularly ones as obviously in sync with each other as he and Josh were. They could fool their parents more easily than they could fool their neighbors; their parents had preconceived notions about their relationship and sexual orientations, and, unlike their neighbors, the two men didn’t see their parents every day.

Watching them move in surely was enough for some narrow-minded people to grow uncomfortable. Sean knew from more than a decade of experience that he noticed and processed thoughts on a telepathic level, often unconsciously. Of course he would react to a strange environment that contained someone who judged them.

The telepath might accept that as inevitable, but he was protective of his boyfriend. It made sense that he would feel ill-at-ease when confronted with some vague notion of disapproval or threat to the younger man, whom he wanted nothing more than to protect and adore.

So Sean made the conscious decision to ignore that sense of foreboding, just as he ignored errant thoughts that had no bearing on his quality of life.

Josh noticed nothing amiss, which – while expected since his boyfriend could be naïve and oblivious at times – confirmed to the telepath that he was being overly sensitive. Sean chose not to mention his discomfort, instead opted to focus on the myriad tasks associated with moving into a new residence in order to make it into a home.

In tandem, the two men arranged furniture into an agreeable layout. Furniture had been included in the price of the apartment, as the last owners had taken little with them, and some of the furniture predated even them. Sean and Josh had brought in their bed and the church pew, but they’d saved on tables and chairs and the nice, faux-antique wardrobe in the basement.

They spent days unpacking every little item, making the apartment feel like it belonged to them in a deeper sense than their names on title paperwork. As artwork adorned the walls, and photographs went along the mantle in the living room, the apartment felt cozy. They belonged here, and everything was fine, as they focused on their independence and their love for each other.

Until the items began to disappear.

More times than not, Josh couldn’t find his keys. Sean installed a key rack near the door, which the younger man actively used. Still, his keys went missing several times each week.

Their silverware also disappeared.

The telepath had no compulsions to count items in his life, but he knew how many spoons they owned. They had bought a full flatware set upon moving into the apartment, in addition to the fancy set they owned purely for special occasions and which remained in a storage case in the hallway closet. Despite doing dishes after every meal, they were always short silverware; they hadn’t had the complete set since a few weeks after they had first moved in.

Josh’s solution was to make sure to take a handful of plastic utensils whenever they bought takeout. While practical in one sense, that method failed to address the underlying problem.

The faucets dripped in the middle of the night, although both men were sure that they hadn’t turned them on. Each man checked before leaving the kitchen or the bathroom to be sure that there was no errant leaking, and yet, nearly every night, the drip, drip, drip would start up again.

The thermostat was broken. The maintenance man had checked it and found nothing mechanically wrong, and yet whatever number to which they set it had no bearing on the apartment’s temperature. Sometimes it was unbearably hot so that they had to open windows and use fans, and then, with no warning or change to outside conditions, the room would drop ten, or twenty, or thirty degrees.

Something was wrong with the apartment.

The television and radio both suffered from static during the night, but everything was fine in the daytime. Both men had made friendly with various neighbors, and they’d tested television and radio reception in other apartments and up on the roof of the building. The devices themselves were fine, and the stations sent signals. Something in the apartment blocked reception, but only during the night. During the day, they received images and sounds clear as a bell.

Then the telephone calls started.

At random intervals, although most often in the middle of the night, the phone would ring. It mattered not whether Sean was the one to answer it, or if Josh picked up instead, nobody said anything on the other end of the line. These weren’t the heavy-breathing calls of someone engaged in sexual harassment. Instead, there was static.

Like with the radio. Like with the television set.

Their friends and relatives complained about the temperature, about the inability to work technology, and about other problems with the apartment. As though Sean and Josh were unaware of the glaring imperfections and mounting peculiarities and frustrations. People wouldn’t visit. They were spooked; they were uncomfortable.

“You should get the apartment blessed,” Mary Neville had recommended one night when she and her husband had come to take the two men out to supper. The water had stopped running, and the lack of television reception made it impossible to watch the news prior to their reservation time.

Sean considered that a blessing in its own right, since watching political coverage with his parents and Josh at the same time was a nightmare of discomfort.

The telepath also considered the notion of blessing the apartment to be overkill for several reasons, not the least of which was his atheism. They had a mezuzah on the door, courtesy of Josh’s parents, and Sean considered that more than enough. Blessings didn’t work, and there was no reason to believe that inviting a clergyman who would disapprove of Josh’s religion and of their relationship (if he knew the truth) to sprinkle water around would solve electrical problems or locate their missing silverware.

Still, before they left, his mother said a prayer to St. Anthony.

Unsurprisingly, their silverware, Josh’s keys, and other items continued to disappear. Josh’s wallet, somehow, wound up in the refrigerator. The bottle of champagne that they had been saving for Josh’s graduation found its way to the sink: emptied, despite the fact that the cork had not been removed and there were no cracks in the glass.

Josh thought he heard a voice on the wind or the night air. Sean assured him that there was nothing. If anything, it was the neighbors with whom they shared a common wall in their bedroom. Their neighbors who only argued or had loud sex. Both men felt bad for them, since they argued at all hours of the day and night, but their sex was scheduled and, despite being loud, didn’t sound particularly good or enthusiastic. At best, it was mechanical, and typically sounded as though they were going through the motions. Sean’s telepathy confirmed that, although he would never say that to their neighbors when they ran into them in the hall.

Then the nightmares started.

Neither man was a stranger to bad dreams. Josh’s anxiety manifested in predictable nightmares several times each week. Sean’s dreams reflected what he sensed from other people, and so the strange was common, and the macabre was hardly unheard of. Yet Sean’s dreams were always filled with telepathic symbolism, and Josh knew his nightmares by rote.

They had never shared dreams before.

Now they dreamed the same nightmare every night. The walls and floors of the apartment opening and sucking them into a Hellish world. Every night.

Sean was reminded of his initial sense of foreboding from when they had first moved in. Perhaps the psychic backlash hadn’t been from a neighbor after all.

“Maybe we should check the real estate listings for something a little closer to the hospital...” Josh proposed over breakfast one day. Bleary-eyed, he had slept so poorly that he felt sick.

The telepath didn’t hesitate to agree.