Pom Eighteen!
Author: Omelettes
Rating: PG (For creepy individuals and brief mild language)
Challenge: Pomegranate #18 (Homicide)
Word Count: 1337
Tale: Starlet's Story ( Index)
A/N: A picture is worth a thousand words. I think this time I'll use this one. Gold Medal for Team Not Weens.
A funny tickling sensation on Starlet's nose made her wake up.
She hadn't, up until now, realized that she had been asleep, and wasn't particularly in the mood to cut it out just yet. She reached lazily for her face as to scratch her nose, and found her progress impeded by something... fuzzy.
Fuzzy things... didn't belong on noses.
She screamed, opened her eyes, and flicked it away, not necessarily in that order.
And she beheld not her bedroom ceiling, but hints of deep blue peeking through a bright green canopy, countless leaves attached to countless great branches, and mighty dark wooden pillars around her reaching up to hold the whole thing in place. Leaves rustled and brightly colored things with wings and prehensile tails flitted about above her.
Starlet immediately sat up. What had shee been sleeping on, anyway? She got up on her knees and whirled around; moss and a few mushed mushrooms, and a bright purple flower pressed rudely into moist dirt. Generally, there was a large Starlet-shaped imprint on the forest floor.
She was still in her jammies, though now they were a tad dirtier than they had been when she went to bed last night.
Last night? What had happened then, anyway? Starlet was hard-pressed to remember. She thought she had gotten out of bed for… something.
A sound? Yes. Come to think of it, there had been a loud noise. And then… She had gone back to bed? No. Outside, to see what it might have been. And she’d wandered alone into a forest? No. She’d wandered… out into the backyard, and her father had come after her, yelling for her to-Yelling? Why?-and she’d reached out out of curiosity in spite of him, not because she was particularly bent on disobeying but because he had not given her ample time to react…
Something… metallic. A satellite.
But that was nonsense. Satellites didn’t crash-land in people’s backyards. It had to have been a dream. But so, for that matter, must this be.
But it seemed real enough.
Starlet stood. She could stand; sometimes in dreams you got tangled up in your blanket trying, so that was a good first test.
She pinched her arm. It wasn’t… painful, per se, but she felt it; it never really hurt when you pinch yourself, anyway.
And she seemed to be coherent enough. So, somehow, she was awake now, if she hadn’t been before. And she was in the middle of…
As far as she could see, trees at irregular intervals; vines climbing some of them, beautiful flowers, small stones, little things crawling the ground like the whatever-it-was she had flicked from her nose, and, now that you mentioned it, the occasional pleasant tweet or irritating squawk of an unknown bird penetrated the morning above. It… was morning, right?
And other sounds. Unfamiliar sounds.
At her feet-Bare feet!-something made a fuss.
“Eek!” Starlet stumbled back a yard before even looking to see what it was. A little frog, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, shiny and bright green.
It hopped toward her.
She stood still, and watched it for a moment.
The frog, likewise, stood still, puffing up its chin a time or two the way frogs do.
It had little orange hands and little orange feet.
It was, Starlet thought with a sudden smile, kind of cute. She crouched and lowered a hand to the ground toward it, carefully, slowly. “Hey, there, little guy,” she said softly. “You’re not so scary, are you?”
The frog looked at her hand, then looked her carefully in the eye. It didn’t move.
“Come on, little guy,” Starlet eased. “I’m just going to pet you…”
The frog edged one of its little back feet backwards, then scooted away from Starlet, slowly.
“Aww. Don’t be frightened.” Starlet got down on all fours. “I’m just a kid. I wouldn’t eat you.”
Next, something rather different happened. The frog blew up into a cloud of sparkling purple smoke, which expanded upward and reformed in the shape of a man, clothed in dark leather boots and black pants and a black belt with a dazzling black buckle in odd spiral shape, and a black shirt with poofy cuffs. A hand of his was on his face; presently he removed from it something green and mask-like.
Starlet’s bright green eyes displayed not fear but curiosity. She took a moment to reflect before speaking. “I’m… sorry. I didn’t know you were a person.”
The man’s deep black eyes feasted on hers. “What, pray ask, would a girl such as yourself be doing asleep in a wood such as this?”
“I’m sorry,” said Starlet. “Is this… your forest? I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Well,” qualified the man, taking one step closer, “well. My forest, is it? Then, really, I shouldn’t say it was altogether an intrusion.” His rough hand-What large fingers!-extended to stroke the bottom of her chin.
Starlet took a step away from the man. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I need to call Dad and tell him I’m lost. Where’s the nearest rest area?”
The man’s thin lips went up in a grin. “The nearest village is days from here. But you may come with me, if you like, and I will allow you to rest as long as you wish.”
Starlet’s dad had always told her not to talk to strangers. That was a given. But what did you do when you were lost, miles from home with no way of returning, and the stranger may be your only way back?
“I don’t want to rest,” said Starlet, brushing a bit of short blonde hair from her face. “I just want to call my daddy.”
“You may call me daddy, if you like,” said the man, taking another, more imposing step toward her…
An underfoot crack of a branch. A couple of smooshed flowers. And finally, “GET AWAY!” said a man in his fifties or so, greying hair in a greasy faux hawk and wearing a perfectly normal pair of blue jeans and a wifebeater, though this man never beat his wife, and…
The shady man held a hand over Starlet’s head, and warned, “Do not tread a single step closer.”
“Like hell I won’t!” And Austin McCutchen tackled the man to the ground, and purple sparks exploded from the man’s hand and crackled and popped and a blue butterfly caught in the fray caught fire and died. Austin, of course, busy on top of the man pounding dents in his face with two bared fists, didn’t notice this.
“Daddy!” Starlet exclaimed.
“Not now, honey! I’m saving you!”
“He’s…”
The man weakly reached a hand up and seized Austin’s arm; Austin batted the hand away and sunk his weight over the man’s stomach and shot his arms crosswise as deep up the man’s shirt collar as possible, seized fabric, leaned forward, and pulled crossways. The man struggled desperately for a second more and fell limp. Austin held the choke a second longer-
“Daddy! Don’t! You’ll kill him!”
-and, of course… let go. Starlet didn’t need to see something like that.
Austin rose, hefted the man up and across his shoulders… “He’ll wake up in about half an hour, Star. Want me to just leave him?”
“Daddy, he-”
“What?” Austin snapped. He walked a few feet and set the man back down against a tree. And then he walked back over to Starlet and placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair a bit. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m not mad at you. I’m just…”
“It’s okay, Daddy. I understand.” Starlet did, kind of. He was still in his aggressive mode. She was like that, too, sometimes, when she was done beating up the boys at the playground. “Just…” She picked up the green mask the man had dropped. “I think, wherever this place is, it’s…” She put the mask to her face and turned into a cute little green frog.
Rating: PG (For creepy individuals and brief mild language)
Challenge: Pomegranate #18 (Homicide)
Word Count: 1337
Tale: Starlet's Story ( Index)
A/N: A picture is worth a thousand words. I think this time I'll use this one. Gold Medal for Team Not Weens.
A funny tickling sensation on Starlet's nose made her wake up.
She hadn't, up until now, realized that she had been asleep, and wasn't particularly in the mood to cut it out just yet. She reached lazily for her face as to scratch her nose, and found her progress impeded by something... fuzzy.
Fuzzy things... didn't belong on noses.
She screamed, opened her eyes, and flicked it away, not necessarily in that order.
And she beheld not her bedroom ceiling, but hints of deep blue peeking through a bright green canopy, countless leaves attached to countless great branches, and mighty dark wooden pillars around her reaching up to hold the whole thing in place. Leaves rustled and brightly colored things with wings and prehensile tails flitted about above her.
Starlet immediately sat up. What had shee been sleeping on, anyway? She got up on her knees and whirled around; moss and a few mushed mushrooms, and a bright purple flower pressed rudely into moist dirt. Generally, there was a large Starlet-shaped imprint on the forest floor.
She was still in her jammies, though now they were a tad dirtier than they had been when she went to bed last night.
Last night? What had happened then, anyway? Starlet was hard-pressed to remember. She thought she had gotten out of bed for… something.
A sound? Yes. Come to think of it, there had been a loud noise. And then… She had gone back to bed? No. Outside, to see what it might have been. And she’d wandered alone into a forest? No. She’d wandered… out into the backyard, and her father had come after her, yelling for her to-Yelling? Why?-and she’d reached out out of curiosity in spite of him, not because she was particularly bent on disobeying but because he had not given her ample time to react…
Something… metallic. A satellite.
But that was nonsense. Satellites didn’t crash-land in people’s backyards. It had to have been a dream. But so, for that matter, must this be.
But it seemed real enough.
Starlet stood. She could stand; sometimes in dreams you got tangled up in your blanket trying, so that was a good first test.
She pinched her arm. It wasn’t… painful, per se, but she felt it; it never really hurt when you pinch yourself, anyway.
And she seemed to be coherent enough. So, somehow, she was awake now, if she hadn’t been before. And she was in the middle of…
As far as she could see, trees at irregular intervals; vines climbing some of them, beautiful flowers, small stones, little things crawling the ground like the whatever-it-was she had flicked from her nose, and, now that you mentioned it, the occasional pleasant tweet or irritating squawk of an unknown bird penetrated the morning above. It… was morning, right?
And other sounds. Unfamiliar sounds.
At her feet-Bare feet!-something made a fuss.
“Eek!” Starlet stumbled back a yard before even looking to see what it was. A little frog, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, shiny and bright green.
It hopped toward her.
She stood still, and watched it for a moment.
The frog, likewise, stood still, puffing up its chin a time or two the way frogs do.
It had little orange hands and little orange feet.
It was, Starlet thought with a sudden smile, kind of cute. She crouched and lowered a hand to the ground toward it, carefully, slowly. “Hey, there, little guy,” she said softly. “You’re not so scary, are you?”
The frog looked at her hand, then looked her carefully in the eye. It didn’t move.
“Come on, little guy,” Starlet eased. “I’m just going to pet you…”
The frog edged one of its little back feet backwards, then scooted away from Starlet, slowly.
“Aww. Don’t be frightened.” Starlet got down on all fours. “I’m just a kid. I wouldn’t eat you.”
Next, something rather different happened. The frog blew up into a cloud of sparkling purple smoke, which expanded upward and reformed in the shape of a man, clothed in dark leather boots and black pants and a black belt with a dazzling black buckle in odd spiral shape, and a black shirt with poofy cuffs. A hand of his was on his face; presently he removed from it something green and mask-like.
Starlet’s bright green eyes displayed not fear but curiosity. She took a moment to reflect before speaking. “I’m… sorry. I didn’t know you were a person.”
The man’s deep black eyes feasted on hers. “What, pray ask, would a girl such as yourself be doing asleep in a wood such as this?”
“I’m sorry,” said Starlet. “Is this… your forest? I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Well,” qualified the man, taking one step closer, “well. My forest, is it? Then, really, I shouldn’t say it was altogether an intrusion.” His rough hand-What large fingers!-extended to stroke the bottom of her chin.
Starlet took a step away from the man. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I need to call Dad and tell him I’m lost. Where’s the nearest rest area?”
The man’s thin lips went up in a grin. “The nearest village is days from here. But you may come with me, if you like, and I will allow you to rest as long as you wish.”
Starlet’s dad had always told her not to talk to strangers. That was a given. But what did you do when you were lost, miles from home with no way of returning, and the stranger may be your only way back?
“I don’t want to rest,” said Starlet, brushing a bit of short blonde hair from her face. “I just want to call my daddy.”
“You may call me daddy, if you like,” said the man, taking another, more imposing step toward her…
An underfoot crack of a branch. A couple of smooshed flowers. And finally, “GET AWAY!” said a man in his fifties or so, greying hair in a greasy faux hawk and wearing a perfectly normal pair of blue jeans and a wifebeater, though this man never beat his wife, and…
The shady man held a hand over Starlet’s head, and warned, “Do not tread a single step closer.”
“Like hell I won’t!” And Austin McCutchen tackled the man to the ground, and purple sparks exploded from the man’s hand and crackled and popped and a blue butterfly caught in the fray caught fire and died. Austin, of course, busy on top of the man pounding dents in his face with two bared fists, didn’t notice this.
“Daddy!” Starlet exclaimed.
“Not now, honey! I’m saving you!”
“He’s…”
The man weakly reached a hand up and seized Austin’s arm; Austin batted the hand away and sunk his weight over the man’s stomach and shot his arms crosswise as deep up the man’s shirt collar as possible, seized fabric, leaned forward, and pulled crossways. The man struggled desperately for a second more and fell limp. Austin held the choke a second longer-
“Daddy! Don’t! You’ll kill him!”
-and, of course… let go. Starlet didn’t need to see something like that.
Austin rose, hefted the man up and across his shoulders… “He’ll wake up in about half an hour, Star. Want me to just leave him?”
“Daddy, he-”
“What?” Austin snapped. He walked a few feet and set the man back down against a tree. And then he walked back over to Starlet and placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair a bit. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m not mad at you. I’m just…”
“It’s okay, Daddy. I understand.” Starlet did, kind of. He was still in his aggressive mode. She was like that, too, sometimes, when she was done beating up the boys at the playground. “Just…” She picked up the green mask the man had dropped. “I think, wherever this place is, it’s…” She put the mask to her face and turned into a cute little green frog.