The Last Captain: Part Five
WWWP shivered, and lazily reached down to pull the covers up. After her fingers made contact with her bare legs, she slowly opened her eyes and looked down with a sleepy gaze. Seeing the dark floral fabric beneath her, she smiled faintly, and let her head fall back into the fabric's warm embrace. Once again, she had fallen asleep on her couch while watching television. Reaching out automatically, she probed the table beside the couch for the remote, and upon finding it lifted it groggily and pointed it in the general vicinity of the television. However, she suddenly stopped, her finger hovering above the power button. In the comfortable darkness of the living room, with small rays of the rising sun trying deftly to pass through the window blinds, all she could hear was the sound of her roommate fidgeting on the creaky bed upstairs. Opening her eyes, she glanced at the television, and confirmed that it was already off.
Shrugging, she moved her arm back over the table and let the remote fall back into its charge with a plasticine clatter. Pulling her arm back towards her chest, she warmed her hand with the warmth of the other, bunching herself up as she shifted into a more comfortable position. Her stomach grumbled lightly, but she ignored it, for a woman burdened with as many student loans as her never looked forward to breakfast. For a moment, images flashed through her mind in a glowing swirl, a mixture of old memories and new scenarios of her own subconscious design. She saw the hardships of the past few years, as well as the tribulations of her youth, and imagined a massive sea of debt collectors carrying her house away in their frightening tide. She also saw a guy dressed in a broccoli costume, and dismissed him with a mental shrug. Her mind settled down somewhat as the sound of her roommate upstairs brought her back to reality. Sighing lightly through her nose, she fell back into the rich darkness of slumber, this time uninterrupted by her troubles. The threads of beautiful dreams began to spin, inviting her onward into her rest and promising adventure. Stepping forward into a place both new and familiar, she lifts her hand, and...
Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind like a flash of lightning, and her eyes snapped open. Sitting up, her heart feeling the icy grip of discomfort, she tilted her gaze towards the ceiling and listened intently. It was only her imagination. she assured herself. It was a sound that she had heard so many times before, that she now expected it, and heard it even when it wasn't there. But then the sound came again from above, more than an imagining and real beyond doubt. Bunching herself up ever more tightly, she fell into a daze of fear and confusion, unable to either think or move. Her roommate had left on a two week vacation but four days ago, and yet the bed they shared creaked on in his absence.
As her senses began to return to her, WWWP suddenly laughed as she came to a realization. Chances are, her roommate had come back early, cancelling the rest of the trip for some reason that he would surely explain to her over their morning potato. That
had to be the answer. After all, it was hardly likely that someone would break into her home while she slept, ignore her and her valuables, and then sneak upstairs to fall asleep in her bed. What kind of...
Again, the calm of her mind was struck by a bolt of thought. As the miring hand of sleepiness lifted its grip on her mind, suddenly her memories of last night returned to her, and she held back a scream as the face of the person upstairs flashed across her mind. Though her recollection was still somewhat fuzzy, she nevertheless recalled in fair clarity the atrocity that she had committed. Last night, in her cups, she had allowed Frownland to stay at her place, while his parents fumigated their basement. "F-Frownland..." she whispered, her voice trembling with fright. Suddenly, from upstairs, she heard a strange sort of wooshing noise, and then she felt the sensation of hot breath along the back of her neck.
"You called?" asked Frownland in a low, sensual voice.
"What have I done..." whispered WWWP to herself, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Oh, we haven't done anything.
Yet," said Frownland, as he put a hand on her shoulder.
Gasping and shrieking, WWWP stepped forward out of his embrace, before quickly turning and slapping his cheek with a mighty crack, knocking his beard off of his face. "Don't touch me!"
Massaging his cheek, Frownland smiled. "Oh, come now. You know that you yearn for my embrace."
WWWP felt sick to her stomach, and not just because yesterday's dinner potato hadn't been cooked all the way. "Look... Frownland... You need to get the hell out of here. You're not welcome here."
Frownland crossed his arms. "That's not what you said last night."
WWWP put a hand to her forehead, nursing a coming migraine. "Yeah, I know, but I was really drunk last night. Truth is, no, you can't stay here. Sorry about that, but, you know... get out."
Frownland's eyes widened, and began to glow faintly in the dim light of the living room. "But you promised I could stay. Are you saying that you wish to go back on your promise?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
Ignoring her, Frownland continued. "Because when people go back on their promises, it upsets Maat, the feather that doth float through the cosmos, the hand that reaches from beyond the stars." Suddenly, the living room starts to shake, and a faint crack appears in the wall. Through the slowly expanding crack, a torrent of cosmic beasts can be seen, vying amongst themselves as they try to squeeze through the narrow portal. "The blade that carves out justice, the word of truth, the..."
WWWP rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "Okay, fine! You can stay for, like, one day! Just stop getting cosmic horror all over my fu
cking living room!"
The crack faded, and Frownland smiled. "Great," he said. "So, when do we fu
ck?"
"Just because you can stay here doesn't mean that I'm gonna fu
ck you. So stop hitting on me, alright?"
"Oh, please," replied Frownland. "You sound like my mother."