That was a weird post to find on my blog. Especially because I was pretty sure that 330 had been too busy sulking on our couch to be running around West Virginia blowing stuff up.
Talked to her about it; she said it was her from the past who made the post. More exactly, her words were,
“Oh, that’s just Past Me running off and being a reckless idiot again. Never thinking of the consequences; I mean, seriously? Jump into a place, drop a bunch of explosives on some random creatures, and run off calling it a job well done? Doesn’t even stay long enough to realize the problems she’s caused.”
Actually, no, that’s not her exact words. That’s a toned down version of the angry rant which she was shouting for several minutes.
Then 330 walked into her room, only to come out a few moments later holding a rifle.
“Well, time for me to clean up her mess.”
Around that time was when I felt it was appropriate to ask, “Okay, what the hell is a night gaunt?”
“Another little species in our menagerie of beasties. Winged, horned, faceless, things that fly quieter than physics should allow.”
“Faceless?”
“No relation to the Slender Man. Never seen one in a suit. And they lack its immunity to bullets. Also they tickle people into submission.”
“Tickle?”
“Yes. Seriously. It’s far more menacing than it sounds, I swear.”
“Okay…. But when you said cleaning up… what did you mean?”
“Well, I expect that the night gaunts won’t be too pleased at someone blowing them up for no reason they can see. They might consider taking out that anger on some of the locals, which is something I can’t really allow. Hopefully I’ll be able to talk them down. If not, well, that’s what the rifle is for.”
“But…. That post said she was in West Virginia. That’s still a long drive away, even if it is the next state.”
“Who said anything about driving?”
And then she vanished.
Two hours later, 330 showed up at my door, covered in black blood. Freaked out for a moment, until she assured me that it wasn’t her blood.
“Turns out, the night gaunts weren’t exactly in the mood for being talked down. Should be taken care of, though.”
Strangest thing about it all, in spite of her apparently having failed at what she set out to do… 330 looked happier than she has in a while. Like all she needed to let off this stress was to go outside the house and shoot things.
That really doesn’t sound like a healthy way to deal with stress, honestly.
-Lisa
I don't know, being tickeled to death sounds pretty meanecing to me. Meh, I'm not one to call shooting supernatural creatures to death an unhealthy stress reliver, I've never tried it myself, but ifvit works, why not.
ReplyDeleteSee you around
- Cage