fanfic: Late Night Assassins

    In the dark of the night evil will find you, sleeping soundly in your beds, defenseless, harmless, as silent footfalls of tiny feet descend upon the floor beside your unsuspecting frames soon to end your lives.

 

     ******

 

     The moon shines through the window cascading over a nightstand upon which sits a small stuffed doll, a humanoid big headed white cat wearing a purple dress and two shark fin like structures on the back its head, even though it also has normal cat-ears. A tiny figure on the floor, having just appeared from a red flash stares at it thinking, “what the fuck am I in a little girl’s room”.

 

    This tiny figure steps into the light, it is a grotesque gingerbread man with a deformed head, and even weirder is holding a revolver. It climbs up the nightstand to get a better look at the woman sleeping in the large bed with the purple covers. From up here he can see how lavish this large room really is.

 

   “A shame,” says the creature looking at this ravishing beauty snuggling a pillow against her ample chest, “the bitch is hot.”

 

    He aims his revolver, and fires. For a moment he mistakes her dark red hair for the blood stain or else thinks it lost there till he notices her hand is raised, and held between two fingers with a slight blue glow is the bullet. Her eyes shoot open and red hexagram sigils project from her silent gaze, fading inches from her face. The little gingerbread monster finds himself stuck on the night stand, held tight by that same sigil below his feet.

 

   The woman silently rises from her bed, completely naked, her nakedness is short lived however as a shadow shoots out from under the bed and wraps around her forming her corset like top, pants, and boots. She gestures and her cape manifests on her back. She walks over, seemingly ignoring the paralyzed creature as she picks up her doll and places it on the bed, face down on the pillow.

 

    With a *yawn*, she somehow grabs the edge of the sigil holding the creature and tosses it; instead of falling as the tiny man of bread was expecting it floats down to the floor.

 

    “So you are the demon sent this time?” asks Rhulan, “have to say I am very disappointed.”

 

    She leans down and plucks the gun from it, “pitiful,”

 

 

    She stand and with a disgusting *squish* she stomps on the little thing crushing it into a bloody paste.

 

    “Sick,” says Rhulan, “that thing actually had blood in it?”

 

    With a gesture the red sigil glows and draws the remains into as it spins.

 

    Rhulan smiles, “garbage removal sigil…heh…fitting for such low level trash.”

 

   Her cape vanishes, as does her clothes as she returns to her bed. She picks up the doll holding it like a baby by her breasts a moment smiling at her prized possession before putting it back on the night stand. With a *yawn* she lies back down.

 

   The goddess appears before her as she lies down, once again taking a mirrored form of Rhulan only with long black wavy hair and wearing a black star speckled ethereal dress.

 

    *So glad to see you followed my plan* projects the goddess.

 

    As Rhulan grabs up the pillow in her embrace and nestles her chin on it she says, “If not for Hollia’s trust in you I would not have agreed to this plan.”

 

    ******

 

    The clip clop of little shoes upon a wooden floor and a snickering from an ugly little leprechaun, stop short in the hallway as the little abomination of magic sees a woman standing in the middle of the hall. She looks harmless enough, a short woman with her purple hair cut short and wearing a black and white maid’s uniform. She just stands there expressionless, if not for her face tilting down to see the little man he may have thought her a statue.

 

    “Just a maid,” says the leprechaun, “however lassie you’ve seen me now, so a shame it be you have be gotten rid of.”

 

    “Analyzing opponent,” says the woman, “aura analysis complete. Bio-sign astral quality weakness detected.”

 

    “What?” says the Leprechaun, “are you simple in the head?”

 

    “Matching bio-sign astral quality.” says the maid as she starts to glow green and walk towards the leprechaun.

 

    “Gahk!” says the Leprechaun feeling weak, “How the hell did you do that? It’s like you’re made of four leaf clovers, I…I can’t move. Damn woman let me go!”

 

    She has picked up the nearly paralyzed leprechaun.

 

    “Additional…correction, fatal weakness in astral quality detected in otherwise superbly defended magical life form.”

 

    As she carries the paralyzed leprechaun like a bag of garbage she opens a window, stands on the sill, a task that seems impossible, especially given her dainty shoes, and leaps out and upward, turning using only momentum to change direction in mid-air to land on the roof. She races at incredible speeds over the roofs of Stratalia, leaping from building to building, leaping off the end of the west gate and running down a dirt road. Had she not being going about a hundred miles per hour and it not been night time the leprechaun may have recognized the spot where he was dealt with before years earlier. This time however the woman races past this point, around Agate Town coming to a cemetery with an iron fence around it.

 

   “Hold on!” shouts the Leprechaun just as the woman is about the impale him on an iron pole.

 

    “Why?” says the woman with little to no emotion.

 

   “Well,” says the Leprechaun, “don’t you know the rules? If you catch a leprechaun you get three wishes. Isn’t there anything you want lassie…”

 

    “I am not called Lassie.” says the woman.

 

    “No hard feelings of course, tell me your name and I’ll call you by that instead.”

 

   “I am Amara,” she says.

 

    “Beautiful name,” says the Leprechaun, “now Amara, tell me what you want and I will grant it.”

 

    “I want what the mistress wants.” she says.

 

   “Oh and what is that?”

 

   “Your death,” says Amara coldly as she stabs the leprechaun onto an iron pole with out a second’s more hesitation.

 

   The Leprechaun screams as its body explodes in light.

 

   As Amara turns to head back to Stratalia she says to herself, “Note: demonic target attempted stalling and bargaining tactics. As expected.”

 

    ******

 

    The darkness of the bushes outside the high brick walls of Stratalia conceals two diminutive forms, the light of the moon revealing them as they try to sneak across the lawn. They are the tiny terrors known as Chucky, and his bride.

 

     They are able to go undetected crossing the lawn and climbing up the side of the wall to the window whose location and image was practically burned into their memory by their dark master.  They were warned to remain silent, in fact their dark master threatened to sew their mouths shut if they couldn’t handle this.

 

    The window is open slightly allowing the summer night wind in, they quietly push the window open, a minor creak. The bride raises her stubby little plastic finger to her bloated red plastic lips in a *shush* gesture. Sleeping in the bed is Hollia, her hair cascading over the pillow, her bust pushing up against the sheets as she breathes.

 

     “Easy,” whispers Chucky pulling out his knife as he steps over the white sheets from the stand next to the bed.

 

    A twisted look comes over his face as he plunges the knife into the chest of the sleeping body.

 

    “Easy kill,” he says.

 

   The form vanishes, floating away like white cherry blossoms of light caught in the wind. The knife falls on the bed.

 

    “What the fuck?” asks Chucky.

 

    *mmhph!*

 

   The muffled scream of the bride draws his attention, but in time to see her whisked out the window wrapped in Lin Lin’s coils like the prey of a boa constrictor. In the open air Lin Lin bites onto the bride’s head. Her lupine jaws glowing with blue flames, her body also in blue flames. She blasts a Spirit Flame at point blank…less so given part of the bride’s head was in her mouth, incinerating the doll as the blast goes through her own coils.

 

    Inside Chucky leaps to the floor only to find himself blinded by a white light. When it passes the doll is flying flat on the ground, the ghost of Charles Lee Ray however stands in the room facing Hollia standing there in her white sorceress attire and holding her traditional battle staff.

 

    “I have freed you of the cursed existence to be forever reborn in that doll body,” she says as her staff glows white again, “now go to the other side where you belong.”

 

    The light of her staff blinds the ghost of Charles Lee Ray. The next thing he is aware of is whiteness all around him and a sensation of floating, which is quickly gone as everything turns red and black chains wrap around him dragging him down into flames and the sounds of screams.

 

 

    ******

 

    Not long after Hollia with Lin Lin on her shoulders is sneaking to the room Rhulan is staying in while at Stratalia. Using a silence spell she opens the door, she knows full well the spell will alert Rhulan of an intruder but also that the energy activating the spell is like a fingerprint so she will know who is coming in. As she enters Amara is coming in through the window and Rhulan is leaning on her elbow smiling.

 

    *****

 

   The scene in the vortex of darkness goes out unexpectedly.

 

   “Something is interfering with me.” says the swirling smoky darkness.

 

  Beside him emerges the infamous sorcerer Skelletor who laughs his oh too recognizable laugh, “Pitiful, those were your best monsters? Truly pitiful, one became a pet to a vampire after losing to a single archer and the rest were massacred.”

 

  “That is why I am now calling for the most evil master of magic…however it does not change the fact that my minions tonight were clearly expected, and was not I who just now terminated the signal.”

 

  “A spy? Here?” says Skeletor.

 

 Far in the corner of this room that one may think is a dark space hidden, almost too small to be noticed is a micro sized Avi-wraith coiled up watching all that has transpired. On the receiving end of this dark spirit hidden even from the so called master of evil is a dark pool which is being watched by a dark figure whose silhouette shows a tall athletically built woman with very high and long spiky hair. Her features hidden in darkness, or perhaps made of darkness, her eyes, the entire eyes, flash like blue headlights briefly as she watches the scene of the evil one contemplating yet another plan to seek its revenge.