fifteen~ [everyone is special in their own way, we make each other strong~]
Being in a wheelchair inside a hotel filled with things trying to kill you put Pestilence at quite the disadvantage.
Others could dodge, maneuver, and run away if need be. The most he could do was wheel himself away and use the metal towel bar he’d broken off a bathroom wall as a bat. It probably would have hurt to jab something with the end of it, but the horseman doubted it could puncture skin.
Right now, that towel bar was his favorite fucking thing in the world. It had kept him alive one more night to see the light of day outside the windows. He kept it laid across his lap as he emptied out another mini fridge full of bottled water, beer, and fruit. Bright light was flooding into the room, but Pestilence didn’t think for a moment he was safe. After having two hands clamp around your neck it was hard to feel safe.
~*~
After the rather amusing debacle of yesterday, when a full-grown man had run away from her, Pheme was feeling on top of the world.
So there were crazy zombie-things roaming the hotel attempting to kill her, two of which she encountered last night alone - there were worse things in life. It was a strange mindset to have, but all things considered the goddess of gossip would mark this one in the ‘win’ column so long as she survived long enough to tell at least one person about Thanatos pulling a runner.
Creeping along, taking advantage of the daylight, she had been peeking into different rooms attempting to arm herself and gather food. She knew that her chances of survival was lower than most peoples’ simply due to her size and stature, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. Spotting a room with an open door, Pheme paused in the doorway watching some guy in a wheelchair loading himself up. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. Putting a scared expression on her face, she launched herself into the room and looked fearfully behind her. “Oh my gawd, are you alone?”
~*~
Pestilence didn’t stop to think. He simply acted. Grasping a beer bottle by the neck, he shattered the bottom of it on the edge of the dresser and turned the jagged end on-
The horseman blinked. A little girl in a chipmunk outfit?
“Yes,” Pestilence answered flatly, but lowered the broken bottle. “Or, I was until you barged in.”
Ridiculous turned fucking ridiculous.
~*~
Pheme’s eyes widened as she held up her hands defensively, dropping the ‘poor little me’ act almost immediately. “Whoa, what the fuck?”
The goddess hadn’t expected that reaction. Especially not from some cripple.
“I didn’t barge in,” Pheme pointed out, “I ran in here, and if you’d been paying attention you would’ve heard me coming.”
It wasn’t like her ensemble was built for stealth.
~*~
The horseman was no ordinary cripple.
“Your manner of entry is of no importance,” Pestilence replied curtly, barely refraining from tacking on ‘Perishable’ at the end. “The point is, I’m no longer alone, am I? You’re here.”
And, a girl in a chipmunk outfit was hardly a threat to his safety. He put the broken bottle down in his wheelchair’s cup-holder. It would come in handy later.
“Were you running away from the shadow of a chipmunk?” he asked, the faintest of smirks quirking at the corner of his mouth.
~*~
Like the goddess turned chipmunk cared who Wheels was.
“That’s right, I’m here, so whatadya say we work together?” Pheme said with a bright smile. Hah, this asshole couldn’t run from her. “You could use someone to push you, and I could do that.”
Admittedly, she wasn’t the strongest of creatures, but he didn’t look like he weighed all that much. And if worse came to worse she could push him at the zombie-things and bolt.
“No, dickhead, I was runnin’ from the strange guy who tried to slam my head into a wall.” she sneered, reaching out and snagging a candy bar from the fridge. “You got pockets in that rig?”
~*~
Pestilence weighed the idea in his head. The girl was already grating on his nerves, but she had a fair point. The going would be easier if he had someone to push him. Or, someone for the ghouls to get first. It would be a temporary arrangement until he found someone better or one of them died.
“Fine, we’ll stick together, but no more crude names.” The horseman couldn’t promise he wouldn’t brain her with a full beer bottle if she continued to call him a dickhead. He wheeled back, moving out of her way. He didn’t like people reaching over him. “My name’s Theo, and yes, I’ve got pockets.”
~*~
Pheme took a moment to open the candy bar, chomping on the sugary treat with unabashed glee on her face. Nodding at his provisions to their verbal agreement, she finished eating before speaking. They might be in a strange, haunted hotel, but she still had some manners. Her mama raised her right, in some respects.
“No more crude names, got it.” The goddess knew better than to argue with the guy who already threatened her with a broken bottle shiv. She was gutsy, but not stupid. She took advantage of his wheeling back to grab some food of her own - peanut butter crackers, fruit, and water - shoving as much as she could into her pockets. “Hi Theo, I’m Cara. I need a weapon.” She looked around for something suitable, eventually settling on a letter opener. “This’ll do!”
~*~
Cara. Obviously, they weren’t using their real names, and that was fine by Pestilence. The less she knew, the better. He wasn’t planning to make friends. Just people to help keep him alive long enough to get the hell out of the hotel. Even if it meant little chipmunks.
“Right, then. Let’s see what we can find in the next room. After that, we can take turns sleeping. How does that sound, Cara?”
~*~
Theo was clearly more well-versed in these situations than Pheme was, which she figured was a good thing. His plan made sense, and she had no issues going along with it so long as it would get her out of this place in one piece. Hopefully with her kick-ass pajamas in tact as well.
“Sounds good to me. We should probably get as much sleeping done as we can while it’s still light out, that way we’re alert when the douchebag zombies come back. Right, Theo?”
~*~
Pestilence nodded. “Exactly. Now, let’s get the hell out of here and find more sharp things,” he said, wheeling himself out of the room. Food was a secondary concern next to weapons and rest.
At least the girl was agreeable. That helped any and all urges to brain her with beer bottles. Still, Pestilence had the distinct feeling it was going to be a long day and an even longer night.