#thechiefwrites

[the-chief-feline]

Hey guys,

So it’s been a while and I know its been a while.

I’m not going to promise anything anymore, that gets me nowhere. I’m not as efficient or motivated with writing as I used to be anymore, don’t get me wrong I still like to do it but it get harder for me every time.

Maybe I’ll do short things here or there but I just don’t know anymore.

But, on the other hand, I actually need help from you all in the community.

For the years-end holidays this year, I worked to get myself an Oculus Quest; for those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s a cordless VR headset that’s really cool. And, for the longest time, I’ve been thinking on trying to make a VR game that’s borrower-based; this is where you come in.

I need some help. My ideas right now are kind of shaky, and I don’t know what I’m looking to do to forward the game. I don’t know who this will reach, but I need a person (or group of people) to bounce ideas off of and help me create a solid plan for what this game can be like, and what happens in it.

So, if you have the time or feel inclined to do so, please reach out to me in my dms. I’ll talk more there.

Thanks, you all.

-Chief

[the-chief-feline]

Guardian Angel

Maya didn’t like the shadows at night.  The little city she lived in seemed to have aggressive shadows, the light from the lampposts along the road casting bizarre shadows from the buildings and occasional tree branch that peeked through the buildings.  They seemed to reach at her.  To try and snatch her ankles.  She grabbed her braid from behind her head, messing with it to try to relieve the stress from walking home alone.  The shadows seemed to grow.  She felt the urge to run.

She had to work late every evening, if anything just to keep her rent.  The apartment she lived in was too pricey for what she could comfortably afford, but she had nothing else to work with.  Maya breathed in the cold night air, speeding up her pace to try to outrun the feeling of loneliness and danger.

Out of nowhere, a whoosh of air brushed past her.  She whirled around, eyes wide as she saw the shadows manifest.  They tangled into one of another, becoming a physical shape apart from the ground they should have been on.  A monstrous creature began to appear, large and bipedal.  It appeared to grow horns, and, after a moment, it opened its eyes to reveal deep blue pits.  Maya felt the urge to scream, but her voice broke.  She stumbled over her feet, and ran.

The shadowy creature howled behind her, and she could hear it following behind.  An internal voice told her not to run home--and she listened.  She turned down a side street, away from her apartment complex, her stamina rapidly failing her.  Her breaths were ragged.  She rounded another corner, exhausted from the four block sprint.  She scolded herself for being out of shape.  It would now be her death.  She stumbled over the uneven concrete of the sidewalk, tripping and feeling her speed she previously had disappear.  As a last ditch effort, she turned down the alleyway between two buildings casting herself back into shadows to hide from the beast.

The creature howled again, and she heard its cry from the front of the alleyway.  It, too, had stopped running, as if it knew that she was cornered.  She let out a strangled sob, clawing desperately at the wooden fence that had seemed to manifest in her path.  She averted her eyes from the creature’s blue pools, unable to make contact with what she knew was going to kill her as soon as it reached her.  She heard it push off of the alley concrete, and she braced herself.

A sudden large thud and another rush of air bombarded her senses.  The smell of sulfur burned her nose, and she heard the beast scream.  Her eyes flew open, locking on to the new, bizarre form in front of her.  It was a person, or so she had originally thought, but it was too large, nearing twenty or more feet.  Two large wings, engulfed in dark red flames, protruded from the thing’s back, and it appeared to be strangling the shadow creature that had chased Maya to the alley.  The shadow creature’s cries became louder and more desperate, and then stopped.  The fire-winged thing dropped the no longer moving shadow beast to the ground, where its body dissipated and sunk back into the shadows of the alley.  The person turned to face her.

The person, tough looking and scarred, scowled down at her.  A mane of red hair messily brushed over one side of her head framed the outside of her strong, sharply-defined face.  Her eyes burned the same dark red as her wings, but after a moment the flames faded.  Her wings returned back to their presumably original state: almost the same as a red hawk’s pattern.  She crouched down as to make herself more level with the human before her.

“You’re not dead, are you?” she asked, her voice deep and growling.  “You should go home.  Forget everything you’ve seen.”  Maya’s jaw dropped, and she floundered for words.  The person got back to their feet, stretching out her wings to the best of her ability within the cramped alley.  She growled in frustration when they only extended to half their full length.  Maya was still unable to find her words.  The person turned back to her, eyes scanning her body for a second.

“Go on, go home!  You have to live somewhere, or they wouldn’t have gone for you.  Get out of here!” she practically shouted, pacing to the front of the alley to escape the confines of the buildings.  She stood at the entrance for a minute, then turned back one last time.  “Really. The longer you stay out, the more likely you are to get targeted again. Go home. Get out of here. Don’t stay too long.” With that, the person took the last step needed to escape the alley, spread her wings, and took off into the air.

Maya was unable to move. What she had witnessed terrified her. The winged woman’s words burned in her mind, and she forced herself to shakily get to her feet. She trailed a hand along the building to her right, peeking out of the alley and up into the sky to see if she could make out the woman’s form. Nothing.

The walk home would be much more frightening and tense than last time.

[the-chief-feline]

Xavier and Samu Part 2 or something?

Xavier stared blankly at his device, reading the text over and over again with panicked eyes.

Umas57 - Do you believe in tiny people?

What was he supposed to answer with?  “Yes, and I am a tiny person how are you”?  Or how about “ha no you must have been hallucinating”?  Xavier bit his lip hard, trying to keep himself calm despite the nerves threatening to send him into a spiral.  After a moment holding the position, he typed back.

1X4 - What do you mean?

It was simple, but probably the best thing he could say.  Before making any drastic decisions, he needed to get Samu’s position.  It didn’t matter in the end.  He had to move.  He’d have to use the schedule he’d acquired over the years to predict where Samu would be at any given time, just to make sure that he wouldn’t get caught.  He wouldn’t have a chance if that happened.

Umas57 - Well I just ran into a tiny person he was behind my toaster and then just vanished.  I need to share this with someone, it was mind blowing!   Umas57 - I do really wonder where he went.  He said his name was Xavier, too.  Isn’t that weird and also kind of cool?

Xavier couldn’t respond.  He felt the stress return almost tenfold.  Samu could spill his existence to anyone and everyone.  He had to leave.  Soon.

Tears started to form in the corners of his eyes as he realized that the one simple mistake of leaving his little home too early practically spelled either his death or leaving everything behind to be able to survive.  This meant both his home, and Samu.  Xavier felt his heart crumble at the thought of leaving the person he had grown close to after so long.  He wouldn’t even be able to take the phone with him;  he’d have to find another one if he wanted to stay in contact with the human.  He looked around his little makeshift house, heavy-hearted.  He really didn’t want to move.  Maybe if he could just...

1X4 - What did you do?  What was it like? Umas57 - I was just gonna make some toast, and when I reached for the toaster this little guy was behind it.  I think I scared him really badly.  He started cowering when he realized I was looking at him. 1X4 - Did you see where he went? Umas57 - No, but I don’t think he moved off of the counter.  I found a loose panel of the wall, near the toaster.  I think that might have been where he went.

Xavier flinched.  He stared at the phone for a moment, now realizing that what Samu decided to do next could literally decide whether he had time to escape or not.  If Samu wanted rid of him, he’d be dead in a few minutes.  He found the entrance to his tunnels.  Frantic, he typed next message several times before figuring out what he wanted to say.

1X4 - What are you going to do next?  Is that where it lives? Umas57 - It could be.  Actually, I think it is.   1X4 - Are you going to look for it?  Like in wherever you saw it go? Umas57 - I wasn’t going to.  But I was gonna stay alert for the next few days to see if I could catch him again.  I might even set up cameras, or something, to see what he does.  Do you think I should see if I can get to him from the walls?  I don’t want to scare him more than I probably already have.

Xavier had to leave that night.  If Samu was looking for him, as hard as it was to leave it all behind, he couldn’t stay.  He didn’t know what Samu was like beside what he had seen while living there.  He could be a completely different person outside of his home.  Xavier scrambled around his house, throwing his necessary possessions into his bag.  He’d have to wait before nightfall before leaving, and he’d have to stick to the floor to avoid possible cameras.  The real trouble is going to be getting out the door.  If he remembered, Samu’s front door was coated on its bottom with insulating foam to prevent heat loss.  Xavier dispelled frantic thoughts from his head violently, collapsing against the wall and sliding to the floor in defeat.  He reached over his bag, pulling the clasp shut and sealing off the contents.

Now all he had to do was wait until nightfall.

Umas57:  X?  You haven’t responded in a while.  Are you ok? Umas57:  I haven’t done anything regarding the little guy I saw, I swear.  If that’s what you’re worried about. Umas57: Please respond soon?  It’s really hard to study when I don’t hear from you. Umas57:  Look, it’s getting late, and I know you might just be really busy but I want to make sure you’re ok.  You’re usually home by now, so...I just thought I’d check in. Umas57: Xavier, seriously, it’s really late now.  You usually text back by now. Umas57:  I’m not going to bed unless you text me.  If that means I have to go make some coffee, I’m going to do it.

Umas57:  Please, text me back?

Xavier knew he had to move fast.  The small window of time he had to actually escape through the front door was minimal--and, to make things worse, the moon was not out.  He was relying on whatever light he could get in the darkened kitchen.  When he finally reached the door, after a treacherous climb down the counter, he stopped and unzipped his bag to retrieve the fractured razor blade he used for cutting.  He drew the metal piece from the fabric, fitting it into his hands and positioning himself to slice away at the foam.  

Just as he started cutting into it, he heard a noise sound from the hallway just beyond the kitchen door.  He jumped, the blade slipping from his hands and clattering against the tiles on the floor.  Xavier heard a sharp intake of breath, and he felt the ground rumble as something rushed into the kitchen, bright light flooding his vision.  He let out a squeal of fear, covering his eyes from the sudden change in light.  When he finally took his hands away from his face, his eyes met those of Samu.

Well, I suppose I could give it a shot…  Sorry I’ve been completely inactive, and I can’t say whether I’m here for good or gone for good, but I guess inconsistent is better than nothing, you know?

[the-chief-feline]

That is an adequate nickname! Hmm, what about a borrower who somehow have a phone (either they found a human's phone or borrowers have technology) and they start communicating with the human they live with? To see if it'd be safe for them to show themselves and all. Does that inspire you? ~👻

Ohoo, you have no idea, my friend…

Xavier often thought about his choices to reach out and contact the human in the household he was in.  It wasn’t too hard to figure out his phone number.  Samu always kept his phone number on the fridge for his roommate, just in case he wasn’t home.  And when he found a half-broken phone outside of his emergency exit, with its screen broken, he knew it was time to reach out to his bronze-haired human.

And as much as he wanted to deny it, Xavier found himself falling for the human.

It was day four before he actually worked up the courage to actually send the first message.

1X4 - Hello?Umas57 - Hi, who is this?  How did you get my number?1X4 - I’m…Xavier.  I found this number randomly, and thought that whoever had it might be up for a chat.  It’s ok if you aren’t though.  I’ll leave you alone.Umas57 - No, it’s ok.  I’d love to chat.  Wyd?1X4 - Just about to go out for some dinner.  You?Umas57 - I was just going to start listening to some music and study.

Xavier smiled to himself.  As loud as the music was, he enjoyed listening to it as much as Samu did.  Strapping on his hook and bag, he slipped from his little home in the walls just as the heartbeat that signaled the start of his favorite album Samu listened to thudded through the walls.

For almost a year and a half Xavier chatted with Samu through the phones.  He was pleased to find that Samu was friendly, and learned the name of the album he liked: The Dark Side of the Moon.  When Xavier woke up, he started the day as he always did.

1X4 - Mornin’, Samu.  Sleep well?Umas57 - Better than most nights, actually.  What about you?1X4 - Eh, as well as I can.  Sometimes the ol’ bed isn’t all that comfortable.Umas57 - That sucks, man.  If there was something I could do I’d do it.1X4 - It’s ok.  I should probably get some breakfast before my roommate gets there first.  I take it that you’ll be studying again this morning, so I won’t hear from you for a while?Umas57 - That might be the plan, actually.

With a smile, Xavier turned from the phone and made his way out of his little home again.  As he was sprinting through the hallways he had made ages ago, he missed an incoming text from Samu.

Umas57 - Actually, I think I’m going to get something to eat myself.

Xavier had already been out in the open when he first realized something was wrong.  Instead of the sound of music coming from Samu’s room, it was deadly silent.  He quickly slid down the hook and onto the counter, senses sharpened by the panic that was slowly bubbling in his chest.  The panic hardened as he heard someone coming down the hallway.

He said he was going to study!

Frantically, Xavier dashed across the counter and towards the toaster, slipping on the slick surface of the marble.  He just barely managed to get behind it when Samu entered the kitchen.  The handsome human rummaged around the kitchen for a few minutes before pulling a loaf of bread from the cabinet.  Xavier’s heart sunk.

Humans used the toaster when using bread for breakfast.  Just as the thought passed through his mind, an impossibly large hand curled around the side of the toaster, brushing up against his side.  He let out an involuntary shriek at the unexpected contact.  The hand froze at the sound, and Xavier resisted the urge to vomit.  Abruptly, the toaster was pulled away from behind him, and he was left to stare up into the stunning greens of Samu’s eyes.

“Woah,” Samu breathed, immediately dropping to eye level to study Xavier more closely.  “You…what are you?”  Xavier fumbled with his words, trying desperately to make a noise of some sort, to tell Samu who he was, what he was, but nothing came out.  Instead, he sank down to his knees and covered his head with his hands.  He heard Samu take in a breath of shock.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, little guy,” Xavier heard him say.  The attempt at calming him was coupled with a touch to the shoulder, at which Xavier flinched and tensed up at.  Samu got the message and pulled his hand away, keeping them behind his back.  “Do you have a name?  Something I can call you that’s not as…odd as little guy?”  Xavier took a deep breath in, attempting to calm his nerves.  He raised his gaze back up to meet Samu’s eyes, pausing for a moment before trying to speak.

“X…Xavier,” he said as firmly as he could, but it came out as a stutter anyway.  He cursed his wavering voice firmly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Xavier.  I actually know a Xavier!  Well, kind of.  He’s…an online friend.”  Despite Samu’s friendly attitude towards him, Xavier couldn’t help but feel himself backing towards the little escape hatch he made himself ages ago in case something like this happened.  Samu kept talking, more to himself than to Xavier, allowing the borrower time to escape that he cherished.

In a short burst of speed, he sprinted behind the hole, pulling the panel back in place before Samu could notice where he went.

As much as he loved the human, he couldn’t trust him.  Not yet.  He heard Samu from behind the small door calling for him, muttering little things to himself along the lines of “where could he have gone?” and “He’s really fast.”  Xavier let out a sigh of relief, quickly making his way back to his home.  He saw the text on his phone, and face-palmed with a groan.  If only he had waited a moment more.  In another second, a new text showed up on the device.

Umas57 - Do you believe in tiny people?

Look what you’ve done, Ghost, my friend.

-Chief

[the-chief-feline]

The Cripple (3)

It had been ages.   Sarah hadn’t returned to her spot in the woods since her encounter with Jack.  She didn’t know why, she just...didn’t.

It wasn’t like she was afraid...right?

She sighed at the expansive forest around her.  Autumn was right around the corner; some of the trees had yellowing leaves on them already.  The weather was still nice, despite being so close to the temperate season.  Sarah limped onward, her right leg lagging behind from the constant use.  She grumbled slightly, stopping to re-position the limb and give it a rest.

She was only halfway there to the spot where she had ran into Jack.  She knew, of course, that he was awaiting her arrival.  She said ‘Maybe’.  Not yes, not no. She was just hoping he had forgotten.

Sarah was aching to get back to that spot.  Sure, it was close to the cliff that caused her crippling injury, but it was still the prettiest spot in the forest. Especially during the bridge between summer and autumn, as well as deep within autumn.  From the cliffs thousands of trees were visible, allowing for the most breathtaking sights.

If only the walk there wasn’t as breathtaking as the views.

By the time she even got close, Sarah was winded.  Her breaths were deep and heavy, and she sat on the ground with a small thud, letting her legs dangle over the side of the cliff.  She looked up at the sky, trying to calm her breathing.  In due time, her heart rate and oxygen intake returned to normal.  She looked out towards the trees, taking in the spectacular views of reds, oranges and yellows just peeking out of the greens that took up most of her vision, with the exception of the sky.

Raising her eyes from the trees, she took in the sky’s beautiful shade of blue. Big, fluffy, cumulonimbus clouds dotted the canvas, accented by the sun’s rays and shadows.  She smiled, feeling relaxed for the first time since she had returned home.  She took a deep breath in through her nose, taking in the crisp, clean smell of nature instead of the musky smell of civilization.

She reached to the side, grabbing a nearby rock.  Sarah examined the stone, taking in the light streaks and dark flecks sketched into the hunk of rock.  “Sedimentary,” she mumbled to herself.  “Lines.  Dunno how the flecks got there, though.”  She hummed thoughtfully, before tossing the rock up lightly and catching it.  As soon as it hit her hand, she wound up and threw it off the cliff, following its path with her eyes as it sailed downwards.  She sighed as it disappeared from her sight.  “Just like all pretty things.  They vanish if the wrong move is made.”  She clutched her head in her hands.  “I made the wrong choice. I can never go back.  What I want now is out of my reach,” she murmured, glancing down at her right leg.  “It’s gone.  You’re a cripple for the rest of your life, Sarah.  You’ll never be normal.”  Tears leaked from her eyes, falling down into the rocky soil next to her.  “Never be normal...”

“What’s so bad about not bein' normal?”

Sarah gasped and whirled around, but found herself staring into the blue eyes of Jack.  She rose to her feet, considering backing up, until she realized that she was still at the edge of the cliff.  And no way was she taking another fall down that.

“Y’wanna take a-few steps away from that cliff?  I don want’cha t’fall down again...”  Jack’s expression turned concerned, and he backed up slightly.  “There.  Ah’ll give-ya some room.”

“Thanks,” Sarah stuttered out, creeping forward slightly.

“I thought y’wouldn’t come back!” Jack said excitedly.  “It’s been, like, ferever!” He smiled widely.  The smile fell.  “Is there somthin’ botherin’ ya?  Is that why y’haven’t been back?”

“N-no.  I’ve just been busy...”  She looked down to her feet, shifting over to her left foot to take pressure off her right.  “Sorry.”

“Hm.” Jack said.  “Y’look a bit down, Sarah.  Are you sure there’s nothin’ goin’ on?”  He shuffled forwards a bit, hesitating before reaching towards her.  Sarah eyed his hands worriedly, yelping a bit as they wrapped around her waist.  She tensed up, watching Jack a fearfully.  “Were ya cryin’ there?  Yer eyes are a bit red,” he asked, pulling her closer to him.  He sat up, taking her closer despite her futile resistance.

“N-no, I mean yes, I mean-” She was cut off as she was pressed against his chest, in what she slowly realized was a hug.  She grasped handfuls of his shirt, clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

“It’s alright, Sarah.  It’s okay.  I like ya just tha way you are.”  After a few moments of the awkward embrace, Sarah pushed backwards.  Jack, getting the message, pulled his hands away, but didn’t set her on the ground.  “Ya feelin’ better?”  She nodded, slouching against his fingers, relaxed once more.  “Hey, Sarah, I have an idea.  Do ya trust me?”

“I...maybe...” she said softly, looking up to him.  He smiled back.

“Right.  Well, we’ve gotta move around-a bit, so unless y'wanna walk I’ll carry ya.”  Sarah tensed up again, shaking slightly.

“A-alright.  Thank you for the warning...I’m ready, I think.”  She said semi-loudly, grasping his index finger in a form of support.  “Where are we going?”

“Just trust me.  We’ll be there inna few,” Jack smiled, setting off to the left of the cliffs, into the woods.

--------------------

Hello! It’s me, Chief!  I’m alive!  And actually posting the next part of this story!  I really haven’t been active, I know, but I’ve been on vacation and at camp for ages.  Also, I need some ideas for where this story could go.  I have one (and that’s where this is going) but I have no clue how to get an ending for this.  Any ideas?

Thanks for sticking around in my absence!

-Chief

[the-chief-feline]

Space

Hey guys, Chief here!  I know it’s been over for ages, but here’s one of the jsefanclubanniversary prompts: Space, from June third!

And also, before I get started, I’ve already written this in a notebook which is currently sitting next to me.  I’m also going to say that I’m REALLY nervous about posting.  This is one of my favorite stories in the set of prompts we were given, but I don’t know how the community is going to take it.  Please tell me how it was!

No more dawdling!

-----

Jack had never seen the sky at night before.  He never really stayed up after the sun went down.  There wasn’t a need to.  As a borrower, it was unimportant.

The bean in his house was simple enough to predict.  Borrowers tended to stick to older households, where life was a routine.  Though this household was modern, there was still a cycle: Wake up, stare at a small light box as you eat breakfast, then move to the “Loud room” and talk to yourself for hours.

Jack took advantage of this rarity, a system in a modern household, even though it was a risk.

Of course, there were days where the schedule was completely thrown out the window.  But, Jack always kept a food supply in case of one of those days.

He knew the bean’s name pretty well by now: Markiplier.  Or so he thought.  Naturally, if you say “Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier” every day, then that’s your name.  Some people just called him “Mark".  A nickname, perhaps?

Jack made it a goal to see the night sky at some point.  And tonight was the night he had planned.  

Mind you, when he ventured out he was still careful.  Supposedly, the bean was asleep, but he could never be sure.  And he knew what would happen if he was “seen”.

He grabbed his grappling hook, a bent paper clip attached to a string, and launched it up to a windowsill.  After a quick check to make sure it was firmly locked, and that there was no noise indicating that the bean was awake, he hauled himself up.

The sight that greeted him at the top took his breath away.

It was...beautiful.

A deep, purple-y blue field stretched across the sky, dotted here and there with stars.  Jack was awestruck.  No way all that was out there!

“Spectacular, isn’t it?”

The baritone voice Jack had heard so many times through the walls sounded too close and too loud.  He froze in his sitting position.  How did the bean sneak up on him?

Markiplier shifted forward, resting arms defined with muscles larger than Jack’s entire form on the sill next to the borrower.  “It’s incomprehensible how large space is, you know,” he continued, voice drowsy from sleep. “Even to me.  And, well, I’m so much bigger than you.  Have you ever seen the sun?  Out there?  Every single star out there could have planets like ours, or at least be able to sustain life.  It’s insane, really.  And all the possibilities...” he trailed off.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  I never introduced myself.  I’m--” “Markiplier.  I’ve heard,” Jack interrupted, before slapping his hand over his mouth in realization to his mistake.  Never interrupt a bean!  Annoyed or angry beans mean death!  “Fuck, I’m sorry, Mister Markiplier.  I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” He said quietly.

“It’s alright, little guy,” he started chuckling.  “My name’s just Mark.  Markiplier is my alias.”

“O-oh.” Jack said.  “My name’s Jack, if you wanted to know.”

Mark smiled, an idea popping into his head.  “Hey, Jackaboy?  Can I show you something really cool, cooler than this?”

Jack eagerly nodded his head, and watched cautiously as Mark opened the window.  “It always looks better without glass in the way,” Mark mumbled under his breath.

When Mark drew back, the window was now open.  Jack took another look at the sky.

The awestruck stance returned.  Jack was now facing a night sky more beautiful than he could ever have pictured it.

----

There you go!  A completely botched ending!  Apologies for any mistakes!

I also want to say that I do get a lot of ideas for what I write from the community around me!  Thanks for being there!

Chief out!

[the-chief-feline]

The Cripple (2)

She felt like she was falling for an eternity.  Sarah flashed back to when she was falling years ago, preparing for the impact that she knew would come.  And this time, she didn’t think she was going to have a rock to break her fall.

She heard a thunderous roar and several booming footsteps, but she was not concerned.  She was going to die either way, be it at the foot of the cliff or the hands--or mouth--of a giant beast.  A louder boom and a rush of displaced air shook her.

Before her mind could realize what was going on, something warm, strong, and leathery wrapped around her entire body.  Her descent came to a sudden halt, which gave her a head rush.  She could hear loud breathing above her as her body drifted towards the cliff face.  After she relaxed from realizing that she wasn’t falling, only to stiffen up again when she noticed what was restraining her.

A hand.  The giant’s.

She felt herself rising again, and her stomach dropped to her feet.  She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see her death.  

“Hey, little duder!  Are you okay?”

Sarah flinched as a gust of warm air washed over her.  Did the giant just...speak to her?  She started trembling.  What was going to become of her now?

“Ah...little dude?  Are you hurt?  Scared?” The giant slapped its face with its free hand.  “No shit, Jack.  ‘Course she’s fuckin’ scared, she’s in yer hand!”

Sarah smiled despite the situation.  At least this giant--Jack, she corrected herself--had a sense of humor...and actually had sense.  She shuddered again when she felt herself moving.  She gasped a second later as she felt land beneath her feet.  Her eyes snapped upwards, scanning the creature in front of her.

Jack had a surprisingly human form, despite being several times larger than Sarah.  His head was topped off with the green head of hair Sarah had accidentally ran into, and a neat beard surrounded his mouth and chin.  He had on relatively simple clothes, a tee-shirt like top and long pants.  He was laying on his stomach close to the edge.  Sarah realized now why.

“Y-you saved me?”

“Huh?  Oh, uh yeah!  I spooked ya, I would have felt so guilty if I let you fall down there again...”

“Again?  What do you mean?” Sudden curiosity took over any fear she had for Jack.  Sarah always loved a good mystery.

“Ahm...yer leg...isn’t that how ya crippled it?  By runnin’ on wet rocks, an’ slippin’ over?”

Sarah’s face flushed in embarrassment.  She slowly started shuffling backwards, her fear bubbling up now that the answer to the mystery was out. Unfortunately, Jack noticed.

“Hey!” He said loudly, “Wait!  I’m not gonna hurt’cha!  Please, don’t be scared of me!”

“It’s hard not to do when you’re literally several times my size...” Sarah mumbled quietly.

“I’m not gonna keep ya here.  But, I want’cha t’answer two questions.”  Sarah gulped.  What where his requests? “One: What’s yer name?  And two, can I see ya again sometime?  I mean, this is yer favorite spot in th’ woods...”

“Sarah, and...maybe” She said, before spinning on her foot and hurrying as quickly as she could with a lame leg.

~Quick time skip~

Sarah slammed the door to her room before collapsing on her bed.  How did she make it out alive?

And why did she accept his request?

[the-chief-feline]

The Cripple (1)

Sarah couldn’t look back.  She didn’t want to face them again.  It had already been too much for her, and the constant bullying in school and abuse at home was just stacking up.  So what if she had a leg that had never healed correctly?

...apparently it made her a weak, defenseless woman.

A sudden push from behind her sent her sprawling on the concrete walkway.  She could hear the bullies’ laughs and jeers from behind her, but didn’t pay too much attention to it.  She hauled herself back up, only to stumble under the weight of her backpack.  Her head was so muddled with thoughts; her only intent was to keep moving.  She shook her head, dissipating the overhanging memories.

Maybe she wouldn’t go home today.  She decided, happily, that she’d spend her time in her favorite spot in the forest surrounding her house.  After all, it was Friday and there was no school tomorrow.  Her parents wouldn’t care how long she stayed out.  They never did.

With a sigh, Sarah turned and limped towards the forest.  Her shoulder-length black hair fluttered in the wind, partially obscuring her vision as it blew in her face.  She sighed slightly, and put on a blue baseball cap to stop her hair from blowing around.  As she was walking, she let her mind wander.

----

She was running in the forest, pretending she was flying.

The recent rainfall had made the rocks around her slippery.

She approached a cliff-side she had sat at so many times.

The child closed her eyes, expecting to stop as soon as she decided that the edge was too close.

She slammed her feet into the earth, attempting to halt her flight.

Her feet slipped off of the wet rocks.

She flew over the edge, screaming as she fell.

She smashed her right shin to pieces on a rock close to the bottom.

The stone took the momentum out of her fall.

She fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Panicking, she attempted to reset her shattered leg.

She called out for help.

But nobody came.

She called again.

Nothing.

She fell unconscious.

When she woke up, she was in the hospital.

----

A tree root grown in the middle of the footpath snagged Sarah’s good foot. She toppled forwards, raising her forearms to stop herself from face planting.  She winced as a sharp stone dug into her arm.  After pulling herself back to her feet with the help of the tree, she dug the rock out of her arm.  A trail of blood dribbled down to her elbow.  She brushed it off, trying to avoid another flashback to her injury.

She sighed, and began walking again.  She ran her hands along the trees and bushes, enjoying the feeling of their leaves and bark against her skin.  She jumped over what looked like a fallen tree that was half submerged in the Earth, and was covered with sticks, leaves, and leaf mold (partially decomposed leaves that has a dark color).  A similar tree rested a few yards away, covered in the matter.  She continued limping forward, her hand still outstretched.

Until what she felt wasn’t bark or leaves.

She sharply drew her hand back, re-inspecting the so-called bush she just felt. Cautiously, she reached out again.  She brushed her hand on the green surface, trying to identify what it was.  She gasped when she realized what she was feeling felt like hair.  Not only that, but it was warm.

Suddenly, the two logs started shifting upwards, and Sarah realized that they weren’t trees at all.  They were arms, covered in their forest disguise.  The debris fell off of them, revealing pale skin and two impossibly large hands.  The head of green hair in front of her moved upwards, and the creature controlling the appendages turned to look at her.  She found herself looking into a giant pair of blue eyes.

She was standing in front of a literal giant, like the ones in fairy tales.

With a scream, Sarah turned on her foot and ran.

She realized that she was barreling towards the cliff-side too late.  Fear-driven, she tried to regain her footing on the rocks that caused her crippling injury.  But she was unsuccessful.  

She slipped, and tumbled off of the cliff for the second time in her life.

[the-chief-feline]

As a borrower, 221B couldn’t have been a better spot to stay in.  The currently uninhabited property, at least uninhabited by humans, was owned by a woman who was less observant than most others.  John found it way easier to live in the flat walls of 221B instead of 221A, where he’d have to be closer to her.

That being said, all was much easier before her new tenant moved in.

From his home inside the walls, he listened intently to the conversation below him.  The landlady greeted “Mr. Holmes,” and just from the name alone John pictured a grumpy old man.  He didn’t expect a fast baritone to come in response to her greeting, but when she mentioned 221B, he knew he was going to have to be more careful.  When the tenant entered the room, John wasn’t expecting to see a man in his prime, with high, sharp cheekbones and curly black hair.  

It might’ve been easier, actually, having someone living in 221B.  After all, his right leg was flaring up again.  He noticed that he was walking with a limp more often than not.

Might have been.

Since this tenant had moved in, John had his fair share of close calls, more often than most borrowers had to go through.  Sherlock Holmes was no unobservant landlady, nor some overly-busy man with an office job too worried about work to pay attention to that around him.

No, he was perhaps the most observant human John had ever seen.

In fact, John quite envied the strange human.  Although most of his days were spent either sitting and being bored or interrogating clients, there was the sudden peak of excitement that would push adrenaline in both the human and the borrower for however long it lasted.  John, however, had a straight routine that never varied: sneak out, get food (and avoid any experiments), sneak back in, eat, sleep.  The whole thing was rather dull.

Sherlock had just recently gotten a case from another human named Lestrade, and was currently hunched over his mobile phone, leaving John alone behind some lab equipment.  The borrower huffed softly.  He never got to do anything fun!  He was about to turn back towards the wall when a peculiar idea sprang into his head.

Spinning about on his foot, he turned toward the consulting detective’s long coat that lay cast over a chair.  He broke into a dead sprint, jumping at just the right moment with just a little resistance from his leg, which surprisingly hadn’t hurt during his run.  He latched on to the sleeve of the coat, wincing as the rough texture burned his hands from friction.  He slid down the sleeve, landing in the coat pocket.

A pang of regret and doubt shot through his head, but before he had a moment to try and escape the confines of the pocket he heard the human’s footfalls returning.  John, panicked, grasped the surrounding cloth around him to try and steady himself as Sherlock put on his coat, unaware of his passenger and jostling the borrower.  There was only a moment of calm before the detective bounded down the stairs and flew out the door into the night, off to go and inspect a new case.  The coat fluttered in the wind, making John slightly motion sick, but the excitement and adrenaline of the new surroundings quickly overtook his doubts.  He took his chances whenever he felt it was safe, taking in the world around him that was always out of his reach.  

It wasn’t long before Sherlock arrived at the crime scene, and knowing that there were other humans around gave John a little bit of an incentive to hide himself more.  He dug himself deeper withing the pocket, back brushing up against a small, black, plastic box.  Recognizing the box as Sherlock’s pocket-magnifier, which he knew the detective would use on the case, John quickly grabbed it and held it in front of him.  Settling himself beneath the tool, he prepared himself for the inevitable: The already cramped space of fabric would be invaded by a human hand searching for a tool.  He hoped with all his heart that it wouldn’t make another, inadvertent discovery.

As predicted, long, gloved fingers glided down into the pocket, curling around the magnifier and drawing it from the pocket.  John flinched as the human’s knuckles brushed up against his hands, hoping that the gloves the detective wore blocked out the touch.  He felt a breath of relief as Sherlock crouched down, probably examining a body, and after a moment of his state of relaxation he peeked up, trying to see what was going on.

Laying in the middle of the room was a human woman, dressed in all pink.  John flinched slightly at the sight of the dead body, but years of being exposed to blood and violence in his earlier years had hardened his heart.  Unsurprisingly, Sherlock seemed unaffected.  After a minute or two of some intense inspection, the detective rose to his feet and turned to another human-Lestrade, John recognized-who was standing at the doorway.

“Sherlock, two minutes, I said.  I need anything you’ve got.”  Sherlock heaved a sigh, pulling out his mobile from an inside pocket and frantically typing on the keys as he started ranting to Lestrade.

“Victim is in her late thirties, professional person going by her clothes and guessing something in the media going by the frankly alarming shade of pink.  Traveled from Cardiff today intending to stay in London for one night, it’s obvious by the size of her suitcase.”  Lestrade grunted in shock.

“Suitcase?”

“Suitcase, yes.  She’s been married for at least ten years, but not happily.  She’s had a string of lovers, but not one of them knew she was married.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, if you’re just making this up--!”

“Her wedding ring.  Ten years old, at least.  The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring.  State of her marriage right there.  The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside, that means it’s regularly removed.  The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger.  It’s not for work, look at her nails, she doesn’t work with her hands.  So what, or rather who, does she remove her ring for?  Clearly not one lover, she’d never sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so more like there’s a string of them.  Simple.”

“It’s brilliant,” John whispered from inside the coat pocket, completely enraptured by what the detective was saying.  Lestrade had asked another question, and Sherlock answered, but John wasn’t listening, instead still trying to take in what the deductive genius had said.  He was caught off guard, however, when Sherlock absentmindedly slipped the pocket-magnifier back into his pocket.  The gloved hand forced him downwards from his otherwise upright position.  John couldn’t help flailing against the hand as he fell, and as he landed on his back on the bottom of the pocket, he stared uneasily up at the still lingering hand.

That unease turned to panic when the fingers descended, carelessly prodding into him.  He didn’t quite manage to keep from thrashing, the fingers twitching slightly in response.  They then moved to slide underneath him, the thumb pressing into the front of him.  John didn’t take the time to notice that it was a gentle squeeze, but suddenly realized Sherlock was trying to figure out what on earth had wriggled inside his pocket.  With the way that John’t heart was pounding and Sherlock’s thumb was pressed right over his chest, there was no mistaking him for anything other than a living creature, something that undoubtedly made the sociopathic detective curious.

Lestrade said something to Sherlock, momentarily distracting him, and John felt a wave of relief when the hand released him and withdraws from the pocket.  It wasn’t long after that when Sherlock departed from the crime scene.  John found himself hoping desperately that the detective’s mind was so occupied with the case that he won’t even give the mysterious think in his pocket another thought.  Fat chance...

John felt a little bit of vertigo as Sherlock ascended the stairs to 221B, the ever-present sense of dread welling in his chest now that they were closer to privacy.  After Sherlock had slammed closed the door of the flat, John pensively waited the return of the detective’s hand.  True to his predictions, the hand returned, glove removed this time.  John can’t do a thing as the fingers slide beneath him again, the digits pinning him as he’s scooped out of the pocket.  He felt his stomach drop, both from being lifted so quickly and from the utter dread at being discovered.  Without a moment to prepare, he stared up into Sherlock’s looming face, framed by his dark curls and upturned collar.  If it wasn’t so terrifying, the look of astonishment on the detective’s face might have been funny.  The towering human breathes out in disbelief.  He brought his hand closer to his face, his piercing eyes studying John closely.

“Impossible,” he rumbled, a strange smile following his words.  John felt a nervous trill in his chest, begging to be let out in the form of a sound.  He swallowed thickly, to afraid to utter a word.  He stared into the fascinated eyes of Sherlock Holmes, a small part of him delighted in how very far he was from his previously dreary existence.

@awesomemixvolume-2, this may seem familiar to you.  I was the anon who asked if I could form this into a fic, and well, here you go!

I might actually continue this later, I like the way it’s going.

-Chief