milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Tom doesn't look so hot, honestly.

Unless "hot" means "slumped in a booth in sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt, drinking coffee and looking like he hasn't gotten much sleep lately."

In which case, Tom is freaking smoking.

He's got his back to the front door. It's deliberate.

[tinytag: thy kingdom come, cerberus]

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"I smell like--?"

He blinks at the kid a few more times, and then does a very deliberate pit-check.

"I've, um, just been here? I mean, upstairs."

"Oh..."

This is not helping to alleviate the puppy's confusion.

Nor Tom's!

"So. Yeah."

Beat.

"I smell like I should be dead?"

That's . . . disconcerting.

There's another deep whiff.

"Yes? I think. Or were near the dead. Or the dead came to you..."

Tom starts.

"But I haven't been around anything dead in almost a year."

...

"But... wait. What?"

Tom was hanging out with dead people a year ago? The scent's much fresher than that... TOM WAS HANGING OUT WITH DEAD PEOPLE?!

He glances towards the front door, and looks away a little too quickly.

"I got chased in here by a shamble of zombies. Haven't been back to my world since then, though."

"... A what of what?"

You're not making any sense at all.

Tom blinks. Most people have at least heard of zombies.

"Zombies. They're, uh -- the living dead? Undead? Corpses that are still up and about with a taste for living people."

...

"What?"

Hey, look at that! He's mastered the art of sounding incredulous! Incredulous and horrified.

". . . I guess you've never heard of them?"

Weird.

"But- I...with the.. and.... But that's WRONG!"

dwfygcwivhbwshdfhcwhbvbxgbvgligfbsbvcsk!!!!!

"Um. Yeah, can't argue with that."

"B-but!" There is much excitable hand waving. "But that's against the rules! I thought you were being haunted or something!" Hauntings are okay

Well, that too, he just doesn't know that.

"Against what rules?"

Cerberus has begun pacing back and forth without realizing it. His posture is the picture of half crazed terror.

"MastersaidtowatchthegateIalwayswatchthegatenoone'severgottenpastgooddogCerberusisagoodgooddogIamIAmI'dnever..." And so on.

Ah, shit.

"Woah, woah, kid, take a breath--"

"TooktoomanynapsIshouldn'thavegonetosleepbutit'ssoboringandtheynevertryan-" Thud.

There is now an unconscious kid face down on the floor.

"Oh, crap--"

Pushing the coffee away, he slides out of the booth and kneels by the kid to roll him over onto his side.

"Kid -- kid. Come on--"

Kid? No kid here. In his place there is now the prone (and still unconscious) form of a very large dog. A dog who happens to have three heads.

"Holy FUCK."

Tom shoves himself backwards, overbalances, lands on his ass, and scoots back a few more feet.

Holy fuck!

The yell and subsequent crash results in three ears swiveling in Tom's direction. A moment later six eyes slowly flutter open. There's a low groan.

Agh, thinks Tom. If he were slightly more coherent, he would think Please don't eat me.

"U-uh."

Ow.

One of the heads swings around. What's that noise? Oh. Oh, right.

Please, please tell me that isn't true. You made it up. I imagined it. Something. Please?!

"Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine "

"Aah!"

Jesus Mary and Joseph, three giant heads with dog breath.

"Don't eat me!"

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tricaputus.livejournal.com - 2008-02-18 05:41 (UTC) - Expand

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re_mybrains - 2008-02-18 05:43 (UTC) - Expand

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