Spook you
Finally, at my own risk I'm posting my "Spook me!" story.
I've tried to find beta among my friends but no one around are interested in fanfiction as a whole and my fan stories in particular (nobody have ever seen "The Sentinel" to say the truth).
I've even tried to persuade one of my friends (who has better relationships with the English grammar than me) to check my grammar - unsuccessfully.
So - it's my first finished story in English, my first finished TS fanfic and you'll read it as it is. I'll be grateful for your comments.
Disclaimers: They are not mine though I spend so much time with them that we easily could be relatives :))
EMPLOYMENT DEMON
“Excuse me? Ex-cuse me?!”
The sound of tearing paper.
“Hel-lo, Jim! Ji-im, it’s mine!”
The lead of the box fall on the floor.
“Jim, stop! It’s my package and it’s a part of the exhibit.”
Now these words went into effect and Jim raised his eyes to Blair’s.
“No. It’s not a part of the exhibit, it’s from Maya…”
“From…” Blair snatched the box out of Jim’s hand and began to study it with due attention. There was nothing significant about it - just plain white package box without any indications. He picked up paper and found only precisely typed university address.
“Why do you think…?”
“I… - Jim hesitated for a moment, - I don’t know. I just knew the moment I saw it on your desk”.
“Knew?!” - Blair shook his head in bewilderment and thought back on the strange behaviour Jim showed the whole day. Since breakfast he’d stopped cold in listening stance every fifteen or so minutes disregard the situation and growing rage of fellow cops. It seemed that he tried to detect something not quite sound and not quite scent but in between - his nostrils’ stirred and once or twice he’d shaken his head like water got into the ear.
Blair suddenly realised that Jim became very still and quiet, but unlike the usual zone out his eyes - strangely bright and almost pleading - followed the movement of Blair’s hands. He dropped his gaze down and saw tiny brightly decorated doll in the costume of Chile peasant in his own hands. It face was draft very rough and body was made from poorly planed wood, but the power and wonder emanating from it immediately drawn Blair’s attention and appreciation, though he couldn’t recall when he’d taken it from the box.
“Wow! I like it! And it really seemed … - he thought for a moment - … personal in a way” - Blair picked the box up and carefully rewrapped toy in a piece of fabric. - “I’ll take it home and ‘ll write Maya…”
“No way!” - Jim tried to take box out of his hands.
“Hey, man, I thought we already agreed that I’m a grown man and could make my own decisions” - Blair pushed the package in his backpack and backed towards the open door - “Besides I couldn’t pick up from it any unpleasant vibes and it’s me who are the shaman in our partnership, isn’t it? I’ll just check my database for that kind of artefacts and ask Maya…”
Jim defeated shrugged his shoulders, took coat and left Blair’s office. The other man only had time to catch at several quietly muttered words: “… hope it won’t take much time…” before heading after his partner.
**)(**
The week was long and boring. There were stakeouts on robbers every night and tiresome door-to-door rounds and questioning of neighbours at the day - the whole case, though hot because of victims and price of stolen goods, was dull and uninteresting. Even weather was dull - neither autumn nor winter - heavy grey clouds on the verge of rain, foul wind, and mist in the morning.
Blaire shivered and glanced through the bullpen windows. There were several drops on the pane of glass but that’s it. For a change, he, for the first time in his life in Cascade, will be glad of the rain.
He glanced towards his partner. Jim stoically talked on the phone with the pleasant old lady from the apartments opposite the last victim’s and refused to return the look. Again. Blair certainly knew all the whys and wherefores but simply couldn’t persuade himself to return the doll to the university. “It suits my room and the other dolls from Peru and Mexico” - he told not once or twice his roommate - “It suits me!”
“I don’t like it. My skin itched with the only glance at it” - they both were quite stubborn and it was already the matter of principle, not only likeness.
Blair even caught Ellison yesterday in the attempt of throwing the doll out with the dirty laundry and hid it then inside pales of grad papers, notes and copies of reports on the desk...
“Okay” - Jim threw the handset on the phone and rubbed his face with both hands - “Let’s call it a day. Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“Pl… What do you mean - pla…? Oh, shit!” - Blair dumped content of his backpack on the desk and began to rumble through it - “Fuck, fuck, double fuck! I completely forgot to call Mandy and tell her I’m too tired for the usual Halloween party” - he suddenly stopped dead - “In fact I even forgot that it’s 31st today - we haven’t any jack-o’-lantern at home and …”
“It’s not the problem, I spent most of my life without any Halloween goodies around and we can pick something for dinner at “Andy’s” or “Marita’s pizza”, whichever you like” - Jim sounded strangely friendly in the face of his previous grouchy mood and Blair relaxed, smiled shyly at his friend and began to shoved the staff inside backpack again.
“Whichever you like, Jim, whichever you like”.
And in that newly found peaceful mood he called his friends to decline the invitation, followed Jim to the track, then “Andy’s” for a pleasant quiet dinner in the back booth and then to the loft, mildly bewildered with the sudden change in his friend.
**}{**
The rain began around midnight at last and Blair heard rhythmical thump-thump on the window-glass extricated himself from the strange half-dream with long low corridors painted dark red with unpleasant odours and frightening scrapes. The second time he felt clear scent of rain and tendrils of cold wind penetrated under the quilt. He dreamy thought of Jim on the balcony overlooking the night city and went back to sleep.
“Hey, Chief…” - Jim’s voice with the hint of uncertainty woke Blair of another one set of this bloody red corridors - “… is it nightmare or just late dinner?”
“Sorry man,” - Blair sheepishly grinned towards pale face loomed over him in the dim moonlight - “I think it’s a bit of either”.
Jim’s digit cautiously wiped sweat from Blair’s forehead and hesitated before tenderly trace his brow, then high cheekbone and finally full low lip. Blair kept back his breath in astonishment. He really felt this finger on his skin and nevertheless it seemed to be a sequence of his dream. Not that he never thought of Jim that way, on the contrary, but right now it was out of the blue and Jim’s eyes were a bit too bright for his normal state, even glazed, like he was inside his own dream.
Blair shivered and tried to slip out of his gaze and hand.
“Don’t” - Jim’s voice was low and husky.
“Sorry man…” - the attack on his mouth was hasty and brutal, like Jim tried to creep inside the young man. Blair suffocated almost immediately and began frantically wave his hands in attempts to shove his roomy away. Unexpectedly fast he found himself without quilt and boxers, with knee between his thighs.
“Ji… ji… ji…” - he knew nobody could hear it and the weight on him was way too heavy to easy shove it aside, but he had to do something. He couldn’t find his Jim in that strange person … being … something, that tried to assault him and yet there was strangely familiar sensation of the strong grip on his forearms and dreamt of feeling of the lips on his mouth.
“No, Jim! Not like this, no…” - Blair yelped feeling playful bites down the neck and chest to his nipple and not so friendly punch on the other one. The sensation balanced between teasing and pain and then pain won. He realised that his arms were pinned by one strong hand above his head and another hand began to fist his half-soft cock without any purpose of being gentle or loving. The smaller man felt himself like rubber doll under this brutal invasion.
Feral bite landed on his abdomen and Blair cried out one more “nojimno” only to find strong tender hands touching his wet cheeks. Jim’s concerned face loomed above him once more - sleepy and genuinely worried.
“My goodness, it must’ve been terrible nightmare”.
“No, no, please no” - Blair frantically crawled back from this touch - “Just go away”.
Jim’s puzzled expression was replaced by sudden painful frown and gasp for air while he tried to tear away first invisible and then visible pair of hands on his throat. Blair watched with horror how this at first sight shapeless hands became more and more familiar - square palm and strong sturdy fingers - and the last thing to bear was mirror image appeared above Jim’s shoulder. Laughing face. Satisfied face. His own face.
Blair bawled and bawled, seeing nothing but this long low bloody corridor, feeling only invisible digits, probing his head, arms and torso, and hearing just “his” own laugh.
Unexpectedly he found himself lifted by the set of familiar death grip on his shoulders and planted by the solid muscled chest. “Sh-sh-sh, hush, please, please. What it was?” - Jim sounded still slightly out of air.
“I ddon’t know. I woke up to your … to your … omygod … what it was?” - Blair tried to jump out of futon but Jim’s strong arm pressed him into the mattress.
“Sh-sh-sh, try nice deep breaths - in and out, in and out” - Blair obediently followed the pattern, - “That’s it, that’s it. Now lay still for a while and I’ll make us tea”.
“Thanks” - murmured exhausted grad student and closed his eyes. He lied stiff and fatigue for several minutes listening for the boiling water and clicking cups. Again, he felt icy rush of wind and then strong palm pressed to his mouth and nasty giggles echoed in his ear - “So, my sweet cheeks, are we in the mood to play at last? Let’s see” - cold hand wondered under the cover and Blair began to wriggle. He couldn’t make a sound and tried to bite a palm without obvious success. The weight abruptly eased and Blair found out himself face to face with two Jims - angry and fighting.
He shrunk into a corner of the futon. There was something almost mythical to watch two mirror images of one dear person fighting for him. If it won’t be that real in the wee hours of Halloween night he even will be able to remember appropriate passage from Le Morte d’Arthur or The Ring of the Nibelung.
Gradually one of Jims began to convert into Blair. Jim’s fist slowed down and blow from blairjim sent him onto Blair’s laps. All of a sudden complete silence, interrupted only by the sound of air draw through clenched teeth, fall in the room. Jim straightened and shoved Blair deeper into the corner to hide under his own body. They watched blairjim who irresolutely made circles around the room.
“It’s unfair!” - it’s voice sounded in between Jim’s and Blair’s, almost whining - “You should be afraid, ve-e-ery afraid, both of you. Ve-e-ery afraid!” - Blairjim transformed into jimblair and into blairjim again, unsure of what image will be beastlier. It gabbled something about right moments and silver crosses, inaccurate directions and bloody hair ties.
Neither Jim nor Blair moved or spoke a word for some time simply bewitched by the creature. None of them could perceive the incident.
“You should’ve hated each other by this moment!” - jimblair once again launched itself onto Jim and tried to clutch at his throat. Both man tried to open its hands but with every passing minute its grip became stronger and growing claws pierced tender flesh.
Blair frantically eyed his room in vague attempt to find any weapon against this creature. Though as a scientist grad student he could deride theory of the living demons, the mystical part of his nature didn’t find it all that ridiculous. He tried to remember any story about that kind of beings but all he could recall through the sound of weakening Jim’s breath were silver and garlic and he wasn’t sure the protection from vampires could be all that good against demons.
The face loomed above them became nasty combination of theirs and Blair found himself praying. He felt rough, almost scaly skin under his fingers. Muscles knotted through its clothes tearing at the seams. Blair weren’t sure whether demon became bigger or he - smaller. He caught hold on something hairy around its wrist and heard hissed words in the unknown language.
Blair saw himself as if he was outside - his fingers in death grip on the strand of hair on demon’s wrist and creature’s hand releasing Jim’s bruised throat and he, once more, screaming, pulling the lock out and somebody else’s screech and icy rush of wind and breaking window-glass and Jim’s gasps for air.
Jim’s body collapsed on Blair and for some time the only thing they could do - just breath. And it was good. It meant life. Shortly after Blair realized that Jim fall asleep. He turned them on their sides, groped for quilt and tucked both up. Tomorrow will be the other day...
Neither man saw auburn lock twined around broken wooden doll on the floor and piece of fabric with bloody symbols, that dully blazed in the crack of dawn and smoulder to ashes towards morning.
I've tried to find beta among my friends but no one around are interested in fanfiction as a whole and my fan stories in particular (nobody have ever seen "The Sentinel" to say the truth).
I've even tried to persuade one of my friends (who has better relationships with the English grammar than me) to check my grammar - unsuccessfully.
So - it's my first finished story in English, my first finished TS fanfic and you'll read it as it is. I'll be grateful for your comments.
Disclaimers: They are not mine though I spend so much time with them that we easily could be relatives :))
EMPLOYMENT DEMON
“Excuse me? Ex-cuse me?!”
The sound of tearing paper.
“Hel-lo, Jim! Ji-im, it’s mine!”
The lead of the box fall on the floor.
“Jim, stop! It’s my package and it’s a part of the exhibit.”
Now these words went into effect and Jim raised his eyes to Blair’s.
“No. It’s not a part of the exhibit, it’s from Maya…”
“From…” Blair snatched the box out of Jim’s hand and began to study it with due attention. There was nothing significant about it - just plain white package box without any indications. He picked up paper and found only precisely typed university address.
“Why do you think…?”
“I… - Jim hesitated for a moment, - I don’t know. I just knew the moment I saw it on your desk”.
“Knew?!” - Blair shook his head in bewilderment and thought back on the strange behaviour Jim showed the whole day. Since breakfast he’d stopped cold in listening stance every fifteen or so minutes disregard the situation and growing rage of fellow cops. It seemed that he tried to detect something not quite sound and not quite scent but in between - his nostrils’ stirred and once or twice he’d shaken his head like water got into the ear.
Blair suddenly realised that Jim became very still and quiet, but unlike the usual zone out his eyes - strangely bright and almost pleading - followed the movement of Blair’s hands. He dropped his gaze down and saw tiny brightly decorated doll in the costume of Chile peasant in his own hands. It face was draft very rough and body was made from poorly planed wood, but the power and wonder emanating from it immediately drawn Blair’s attention and appreciation, though he couldn’t recall when he’d taken it from the box.
“Wow! I like it! And it really seemed … - he thought for a moment - … personal in a way” - Blair picked the box up and carefully rewrapped toy in a piece of fabric. - “I’ll take it home and ‘ll write Maya…”
“No way!” - Jim tried to take box out of his hands.
“Hey, man, I thought we already agreed that I’m a grown man and could make my own decisions” - Blair pushed the package in his backpack and backed towards the open door - “Besides I couldn’t pick up from it any unpleasant vibes and it’s me who are the shaman in our partnership, isn’t it? I’ll just check my database for that kind of artefacts and ask Maya…”
Jim defeated shrugged his shoulders, took coat and left Blair’s office. The other man only had time to catch at several quietly muttered words: “… hope it won’t take much time…” before heading after his partner.
**)(**
The week was long and boring. There were stakeouts on robbers every night and tiresome door-to-door rounds and questioning of neighbours at the day - the whole case, though hot because of victims and price of stolen goods, was dull and uninteresting. Even weather was dull - neither autumn nor winter - heavy grey clouds on the verge of rain, foul wind, and mist in the morning.
Blaire shivered and glanced through the bullpen windows. There were several drops on the pane of glass but that’s it. For a change, he, for the first time in his life in Cascade, will be glad of the rain.
He glanced towards his partner. Jim stoically talked on the phone with the pleasant old lady from the apartments opposite the last victim’s and refused to return the look. Again. Blair certainly knew all the whys and wherefores but simply couldn’t persuade himself to return the doll to the university. “It suits my room and the other dolls from Peru and Mexico” - he told not once or twice his roommate - “It suits me!”
“I don’t like it. My skin itched with the only glance at it” - they both were quite stubborn and it was already the matter of principle, not only likeness.
Blair even caught Ellison yesterday in the attempt of throwing the doll out with the dirty laundry and hid it then inside pales of grad papers, notes and copies of reports on the desk...
“Okay” - Jim threw the handset on the phone and rubbed his face with both hands - “Let’s call it a day. Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“Pl… What do you mean - pla…? Oh, shit!” - Blair dumped content of his backpack on the desk and began to rumble through it - “Fuck, fuck, double fuck! I completely forgot to call Mandy and tell her I’m too tired for the usual Halloween party” - he suddenly stopped dead - “In fact I even forgot that it’s 31st today - we haven’t any jack-o’-lantern at home and …”
“It’s not the problem, I spent most of my life without any Halloween goodies around and we can pick something for dinner at “Andy’s” or “Marita’s pizza”, whichever you like” - Jim sounded strangely friendly in the face of his previous grouchy mood and Blair relaxed, smiled shyly at his friend and began to shoved the staff inside backpack again.
“Whichever you like, Jim, whichever you like”.
And in that newly found peaceful mood he called his friends to decline the invitation, followed Jim to the track, then “Andy’s” for a pleasant quiet dinner in the back booth and then to the loft, mildly bewildered with the sudden change in his friend.
**}{**
The rain began around midnight at last and Blair heard rhythmical thump-thump on the window-glass extricated himself from the strange half-dream with long low corridors painted dark red with unpleasant odours and frightening scrapes. The second time he felt clear scent of rain and tendrils of cold wind penetrated under the quilt. He dreamy thought of Jim on the balcony overlooking the night city and went back to sleep.
“Hey, Chief…” - Jim’s voice with the hint of uncertainty woke Blair of another one set of this bloody red corridors - “… is it nightmare or just late dinner?”
“Sorry man,” - Blair sheepishly grinned towards pale face loomed over him in the dim moonlight - “I think it’s a bit of either”.
Jim’s digit cautiously wiped sweat from Blair’s forehead and hesitated before tenderly trace his brow, then high cheekbone and finally full low lip. Blair kept back his breath in astonishment. He really felt this finger on his skin and nevertheless it seemed to be a sequence of his dream. Not that he never thought of Jim that way, on the contrary, but right now it was out of the blue and Jim’s eyes were a bit too bright for his normal state, even glazed, like he was inside his own dream.
Blair shivered and tried to slip out of his gaze and hand.
“Don’t” - Jim’s voice was low and husky.
“Sorry man…” - the attack on his mouth was hasty and brutal, like Jim tried to creep inside the young man. Blair suffocated almost immediately and began frantically wave his hands in attempts to shove his roomy away. Unexpectedly fast he found himself without quilt and boxers, with knee between his thighs.
“Ji… ji… ji…” - he knew nobody could hear it and the weight on him was way too heavy to easy shove it aside, but he had to do something. He couldn’t find his Jim in that strange person … being … something, that tried to assault him and yet there was strangely familiar sensation of the strong grip on his forearms and dreamt of feeling of the lips on his mouth.
“No, Jim! Not like this, no…” - Blair yelped feeling playful bites down the neck and chest to his nipple and not so friendly punch on the other one. The sensation balanced between teasing and pain and then pain won. He realised that his arms were pinned by one strong hand above his head and another hand began to fist his half-soft cock without any purpose of being gentle or loving. The smaller man felt himself like rubber doll under this brutal invasion.
Feral bite landed on his abdomen and Blair cried out one more “nojimno” only to find strong tender hands touching his wet cheeks. Jim’s concerned face loomed above him once more - sleepy and genuinely worried.
“My goodness, it must’ve been terrible nightmare”.
“No, no, please no” - Blair frantically crawled back from this touch - “Just go away”.
Jim’s puzzled expression was replaced by sudden painful frown and gasp for air while he tried to tear away first invisible and then visible pair of hands on his throat. Blair watched with horror how this at first sight shapeless hands became more and more familiar - square palm and strong sturdy fingers - and the last thing to bear was mirror image appeared above Jim’s shoulder. Laughing face. Satisfied face. His own face.
Blair bawled and bawled, seeing nothing but this long low bloody corridor, feeling only invisible digits, probing his head, arms and torso, and hearing just “his” own laugh.
Unexpectedly he found himself lifted by the set of familiar death grip on his shoulders and planted by the solid muscled chest. “Sh-sh-sh, hush, please, please. What it was?” - Jim sounded still slightly out of air.
“I ddon’t know. I woke up to your … to your … omygod … what it was?” - Blair tried to jump out of futon but Jim’s strong arm pressed him into the mattress.
“Sh-sh-sh, try nice deep breaths - in and out, in and out” - Blair obediently followed the pattern, - “That’s it, that’s it. Now lay still for a while and I’ll make us tea”.
“Thanks” - murmured exhausted grad student and closed his eyes. He lied stiff and fatigue for several minutes listening for the boiling water and clicking cups. Again, he felt icy rush of wind and then strong palm pressed to his mouth and nasty giggles echoed in his ear - “So, my sweet cheeks, are we in the mood to play at last? Let’s see” - cold hand wondered under the cover and Blair began to wriggle. He couldn’t make a sound and tried to bite a palm without obvious success. The weight abruptly eased and Blair found out himself face to face with two Jims - angry and fighting.
He shrunk into a corner of the futon. There was something almost mythical to watch two mirror images of one dear person fighting for him. If it won’t be that real in the wee hours of Halloween night he even will be able to remember appropriate passage from Le Morte d’Arthur or The Ring of the Nibelung.
Gradually one of Jims began to convert into Blair. Jim’s fist slowed down and blow from blairjim sent him onto Blair’s laps. All of a sudden complete silence, interrupted only by the sound of air draw through clenched teeth, fall in the room. Jim straightened and shoved Blair deeper into the corner to hide under his own body. They watched blairjim who irresolutely made circles around the room.
“It’s unfair!” - it’s voice sounded in between Jim’s and Blair’s, almost whining - “You should be afraid, ve-e-ery afraid, both of you. Ve-e-ery afraid!” - Blairjim transformed into jimblair and into blairjim again, unsure of what image will be beastlier. It gabbled something about right moments and silver crosses, inaccurate directions and bloody hair ties.
Neither Jim nor Blair moved or spoke a word for some time simply bewitched by the creature. None of them could perceive the incident.
“You should’ve hated each other by this moment!” - jimblair once again launched itself onto Jim and tried to clutch at his throat. Both man tried to open its hands but with every passing minute its grip became stronger and growing claws pierced tender flesh.
Blair frantically eyed his room in vague attempt to find any weapon against this creature. Though as a scientist grad student he could deride theory of the living demons, the mystical part of his nature didn’t find it all that ridiculous. He tried to remember any story about that kind of beings but all he could recall through the sound of weakening Jim’s breath were silver and garlic and he wasn’t sure the protection from vampires could be all that good against demons.
The face loomed above them became nasty combination of theirs and Blair found himself praying. He felt rough, almost scaly skin under his fingers. Muscles knotted through its clothes tearing at the seams. Blair weren’t sure whether demon became bigger or he - smaller. He caught hold on something hairy around its wrist and heard hissed words in the unknown language.
Blair saw himself as if he was outside - his fingers in death grip on the strand of hair on demon’s wrist and creature’s hand releasing Jim’s bruised throat and he, once more, screaming, pulling the lock out and somebody else’s screech and icy rush of wind and breaking window-glass and Jim’s gasps for air.
Jim’s body collapsed on Blair and for some time the only thing they could do - just breath. And it was good. It meant life. Shortly after Blair realized that Jim fall asleep. He turned them on their sides, groped for quilt and tucked both up. Tomorrow will be the other day...
Neither man saw auburn lock twined around broken wooden doll on the floor and piece of fabric with bloody symbols, that dully blazed in the crack of dawn and smoulder to ashes towards morning.