Meghan: Revenge?

My name is Thomas Hernandez, and on this day I will enact my revenge.
This insult cannot be left to fade into the murky depths of human history.
I will make the very female race shake with the power of my rage.
…
Or something.

It was a bright sunshiny day when Thomas stalked down to his dark chambers (aka. His parents’ basement). Scowling the blackest of scowls he got out his deepest cauldron began mixing a spell for the wenches he was fixing to curse. His spell would summon a demon from the fiery pits of hell to bring these women down. The powders were mixed, the fires lighted, the animals sacrificed (poor Fluffy…) but when he plunged his hands into the bubbling brew no demon appeared to his summons. Looking around nervously, he tried swirling his hands around in the goo to no avail. Then he began to feel a little strange; his insides twisted, his joints screamed, and his skin bubbled. When the change was complete he looked rather like the monster he had been trying to summon.
“Crap…” he muttered, but it came out sounding more like:
“SATAN IS MY MASTER UGRAHDSBLOOD!!!”
He quickly flipped through his demon magic book, poking small holes in the pages with his claws. When he came again to the page of his spell he read the small insignificant warning sign he had missed before:
WARNING: if the caster is too weak to pull the demon into this dimension the spell may instead turn on the castor turning him/her into a demon. Don’t worry, you’ll eventually turn back. Maybe.
Thomas slammed the book shut and paced angrily, trying to think. This could still work in his favor; he would just have to act out his revenge himself. Nodding decidedly, he wrapped himself in a spare cloak and glided up the stairs.
“Do you want some cookies honey?” his mother called after his retreating form.
“I WILL CRUSH YOUR SKULL AND EAT YOUR EYEBALLS, PUNY MORTAL!!!!” he replied, (translation: ‘No thank you, I’m going out and will be back late, don’t wait up.’)
“That boy gets stranger every day…” his father murmured as Thomas stalked out of the front door.

Thomas parked his car in the large apartment parking lot and tried to concentrate on being invisible, which was one of the powers his demon form should have. An elderly woman walking by was startled to see his car door open and close by itself, but he paid no attention. As he slipped into the complex he saw the janitorial staff fixing a smashed light fixture. One man’s keys gleamed temptingly as they dangled precariously from his pocket. Thomas’ hands were sweaty as he slid behind the man and inched the keys from his pocket. When he finally had them, he clutched them to his thudding heart and ran to the girls’ apartment. He had looked up their information earlier and knew the route. Once he had used the janitor’s master key to softly click the lock open he threw the keys in the general direction of the man he had taken them from, hoping to forestall any possible alarm-raising that might occur. Thomas gently eased open the door a crack and looked through. Seeing no one he slipped inside and shut the door quickly behind him. Relief at not having been seen was quickly followed by the horror that he had been seen, but not by any human. Four pairs of eyes stared up at him through the dark. He made urgent shooing motions with his hands but that did nothing to dissipate the crowd of cats who began fawning at his feet, obviously able to see through his invisibility. He tried to walk through them and promptly tripped as two began twining through his ankles. Were they trying to kill him in defense of their home? One was sharpening his claws in obvious preparation for such actions. Thomas shuddered and crept through the front room, trying his best to ignore the cats. The light was on in the bathroom so he slid along the wall until he could see inside. One of THEM was in there, brushing her hair and staring vaguely at a foggy mirror. Thomas grinned predatorily, and moved forward a touch so that if she were to swipe her hand across the mirror to clear it, she would see his reflection behind her. She shook her short hair out and did just as he predicted, carefully wiping her hand across the mirror so she could see. He grinned wickedly, eyes rolling, teeth gnashing, guaranteed to get a scream of terror from anyone. But nothing happened. He frowned and stared at her intently as she continued brushing her hair. Was she blind? As she leaned in nose to nose with her reflection to apply eyeliner, he saw a pair of glasses on the counter and sighed internally. Her prescription must be even worse than his. Already bored, he wandered into the kitchen to wait until she could see and be properly terrified. He opened their fridge contemplatively; if he was going to take his revenge in full than he should eat their food too, right? He pulled out some cold cuts to make a sandwich. As he was laying slices of bread out on the counter he heard a curious yowling noise behind him. He turned to find a striped cat staring at him expectantly; or more specifically, the food in his hand.
“DEMON SPAWN YOU ARE NOT WANTED HERE!!!” he tried to whisper quietly (translation: ‘shoo’)
“Mrrrr, mrrr…” The cat cried sadly, waving it’s paws.
Thomas ground his teeth together and picked up the cat by the scruff, intending to stuff it somewhere quiet, when a brilliant idea came to him. He could leave his revenge-message through the cats. They were quite adorable, and he was sure that they were treasured by those detestable girls. He carried his furry bundle to the main room, practically dancing with glee at his plan. He was so excited he almost didn’t notice that there was a second person in the room until something very hard hit his head. And then there was just pain and dark.

When he woke up he was very thoroughly tied up in a variety of bondage gear. For some reason his chest hurt.
“Uhhhgghhhrrhh” He groaned as he stirred.
“Is he awake?” A cold voice asked.
“I’m not sure, should I do it again?” a higher pitched voice answered.
“Sure.”
Thomas kept his eyes closed, determined to fake sleep and ignoring the ripping noises of what was probably more duct tape. He was somewhat confused when he felt a hand slip down his chest, then there was a ripping noise and fire blazed across his skin, causing him to scream and writhe in agony. His eyes were open now; he saw one of his potential victims staring icily down at him and petting the striped cat he had tried to sacrifice. The other held a piece of duct tape between her hands which was covered with what looked suspiciously like demon chest hair.
“YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, DEMON WENCHES!!! MY MASTER IS GREAT AND POWERFUL!!!!” (translation: ‘WTF?! My poor chest hairs! It’s just a cat!’)
The one petting the cat scowled and opened her mouth but the other raised a hand to stop her,
“Allow me, I speak fluent hellspawn.” She cleared her throat,”I WILL RIP YOUR STILL BEATING HEART FROM YOUR CHEST AND WEAR YOUR RIBCAGE FOR A HAT!!! HOW DARE YOU TRESPASS ON OUR LANDS!?!” (translation: ‘We value our cats. Why are you here? If you do not tell me there may be more unpleasantness
Thomas swelled out his chest and tried to look as impressive as he could while tied up.
“I WILL EAT YOUR BABIES AND DESTROY YOUR HOME!!! BLOOD WILL REIGN!!!” (translation: ‘I come for revenge!)
The girl interviewing him blinked a few times before replying in English, “Revenge? Who are you again?”
“I AM YOUR ARCH NEMESIS THOMAS!!!! YOU WILL RUE THE DAY WE MET!!!” (translates to the same)
The interviewer turned to her companion, “Do you know him?”
The other girl shook her head, “Never seen him before.”
Thomas’ eyes bulged, “I WILL RIP YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!!! YOUR BODIES WILL BE MY PLAYTHINGS!!! I WILL FEED YOUR ORGANS TO YOUR CATS!!!!” etc., etc., etc.
His former interviewer stared at him, her eyes round, “He has an impressive list of threats. I feel like I should take notes.”
The other girl snorted and stood, walking over to their bookshelf. She scanned it briefly with her eyes before pulling out a thick volume. Seeing the word ‘Demonology’ written in fancy script across the cover, Thomas began to sweat; obviously he hadn’t researched these two enough.
The girl flipped through its pages until she came to the one she wanted, “This will send him back to where he came from.”
“What if he’s not an actual demon? The other girl asked.
“Then it’ll send him back to wherever his creepy home is, I don’t care.”
Thomas prayed very hard that he wasn’t about to be sent to a hell dimension.
“Oh, one more thing.” The girl with the book leaned down until he was close enough to feel her breath on his cheek, “If you ever threaten my cat again I will cut your balls off and feed them to him, clear?”
Thomas nodded frantically, trying to look very helpless and cat-friendly.
“Good.” She sat back and started chanting.

Thomas was very thankful when he woke up human and in his parents’ basement. He was less thankful when his mother found him a day later naked and still trying to get out of the chains and handcuffs that the girls had bound him in. She screamed and called for his father, who sat down then and there to give his son a talking to about where his life was going. Later that week Thomas was booted out of the nest and out into the bright world with fresh revenge plans for the girls who had screwed up his life. Unfortunately they still had no idea who he was.



-M

Meghan: duct tape is silver

Jasmine was taken from her work place in an unmarked car, then bound and gagged in the back while it drove away.
Abe curled around a plate of poisoned cookies at FedEx, only to be lifted into a van by friendly looking people in black.
Doug was smashed over the head by what looked like a laptop then towed away similarly.
And finally Sarah felt a needle bite into her neck while she was doing laundry and fell unconscious.

They all woke up in very similar positions duct-taped to chairs, their arms wrapped from wrist to elbow and tape across their mouths. Their eyes slid furtively from side to side, seeking perhaps an escape route or explosive but all they saw was me sitting in a chair across from them. Unfortunately I had fallen asleep waiting for them to wake up, so I was not there to witness Abe’s furious eye rolling, Doug’s mildly worried look, Jasmine’s muted screams (something along the lines of ‘not again’ or ‘why does this always happen to me’), and Sarah’s relieved sigh (muffled by duct tape). Eventually the noise woke me and I sat up in my chair, scrubbing at my face and looking around.
“What?” three pairs of angry eyes glared at me and I winced, “Oh yeah, I forgot I didn’t mean to do the mouths, sorry.”
I peeled Sarah’s gag off slowly and set it aside.
“No biting.” I said firmly as I gripped the edge of Jasmine’s tape. I peeled it off and she promptly chomped down on my wrist. I collapsed to my knees with moans of ecstasy but managed to yank the limb free.
“Ow, ow, ow.” I chanted softly as I quickly ripped off Abe’s and Doug’s.
“Okay, now that we’re all here,” I clapped my hands to bring their focus from their possibly dire situation to the purpose of the gathering, “we can blog.”
They all looked equally confused.
“We’ve all been very bad at blogging continuously for the past few months so I thought we’d all take some quality time and blog.” While I spoke I wheeled their chairs to circle a large table equipped with computers.
“I know that it will be difficult for you to type with your arms taped together but I believe in you.”
They all still looked slightly disbelieving as I bent over my own computer and began typing. But after a few minutes more slow clicking joined the sound of mine.
That month there were many blogs.
The end




-M

Doug: Resolutions

A little late, but I'll take it:

Goodbye 2010. I'm not sure I'll miss you. It's been good in some places, shit in others. Lost some friends. Gained a few. Went to Italy, Israel, Jordan. Saw the world, the big stuff, and the small stuff. Got a new boss. Turned 21, had a few drinks, had a few laughs. Had a few laughs because of the drinks. Got into a house. Bought a car. Bought a 1911. Learned ASL, barely, learned Hebrew... kind of. Built some bridges. Burned a few. Lived. Loved.

Hello 2011. Boy have I got plans for you.

-Doug

"Climb highest mountain, punch the face of god."
-Courage Wolf