Nova Scotia's Revenge
A white light blinded my eyes as he moved in for the kill, his foul-smelling breath gusting onto my face. Now I was sensible enough to wake up and see who it was. My fears were confirmed – it was Nova Scotia! His orange, shining, angry eyes stared coldly into mine, making me see colourful floaters and hurting them a little. His breathing became harsher and fouler the closer he got to me. I whimpered in distress and tried to scurry from my bed, but he locked up my arms with the controlling grip of his great, meaty fists. Closing his eyes, he put out his tongue and gave me a moist, eerie lick on my cheek. I quaked all over, paralyzed with horror. Nova Scotia then bit me hard on the cheek; and at that point, I woke up, gasping breathlessly. Another bad dream. He wasn't in front of me anymore.
I looked around my room, trying to think… "Why is he still after me?" I thought. Then I remembered what Nova Scotia told me last night: "I WILL get you one day!" I could hear his rasping voice, and I shivered nervously. I tried my best to get back to sleep that night, but I couldn't stop thinking about Nova Scotia and his angry warning to me.
The next morning, taking my cup of tea up to my room, I booted up my computer and opened my game. The Benjamins had all gone out, either to work or some place around town. Everyone except Nova Scotia. He was having a shower, scrubbing his body, singing happily to himself. Suddenly, he stopped singing, and turned to me. "What are you staring at?" he rasped. "What?" I replied, taking a little sip of my tea. "Don't look at my things!" he yelled. "Um, okay…" I said fretfully, looking away from him. Nova Scotia got out of the shower and changed into his everyday clothing.
I turned back to him, and commanded him to turn on the TV. But he said no. "I need to speak to you for a second," he said seriously. "Go ahead," I replied, drinking my tea. Nova Scotia sat down on the sofa, and looked at me, his face unsmiling. "You do know I REALLY loved New Brunswick, don't you?" he asked. "Yes," I answered back, nodding. "Then why did you make her dump me?" "I'm really sorry," I apologized, "It was an accident! It was just a stupid joke! I didn't know what I was thinking! I…"
Nova Scotia did not accept my apology. "I don't believe you," he grumbled. The menacing orange glow was forming in his angry eyes again. "You're so malicious. I think you genuinely had a grudge against us two being together, so you made New Brunswick turn against me and commit the ultimate act of betrayal. I will never forgive you for that. Not even if we ever get back together, which at this rate, I doubt we ever will. I emphasize that: I will NEVER forgive you!"
I gasped in shocked and horror, nearly choking on my tea. His eyes were as bright as the sun on a hot day. "What?! I never…" I spluttered. "Ah, ah, ah!" he hissed, telling me to shut up. "Don't say anything. I'm going out." "But…" "No, no, you just watch over the house while me and the others are gone. And remember: I WILL get you." I shuddered anxiously. I ordered him to go to the fish hatchery to catch some fish for supper; the game had already also ordered him to go to his music lessons.
Soon after he left the house, I felt a strange energy around me. The computer was also radiating a weird aura, too. Suddenly, I felt myself being sucked into the game. "What's going on?!" I thought hastily, as a strong current pulled me inside. "Where am I going?!" With a huge POP, the weird energy vacuumed me into the Benjamins' universe. The computer rattled as I was sucked in.
"I'm in… the Benjamins' house?!" I exclaimed loudly. I glanced around myself. Sure enough, the house looked exactly like it did in the game. Only I was IN the game. Nova Scotia's pet fish, New Glasgow and Stellarton, were right in front of me on the coffee table. They were hungry, so I took the fish food, which was standing beside the TV, and fed them. "Here you go, little ones," I cooed to them sweetly. They nibbled contentedly at the small flakes of food on top of the water.
I then went into the bedroom. Beside the third bed was New Brunswick's pet fish, Fredericton. He was hungry too, so I also fed him. "You too, sweet," I whispered to him gently. He pecked away happily at his feed.
Seeing as there was nothing else to do, and doing anything in the Benjamins' house whilst they were out would arouse their suspicion, especially Nova Scotia's, I went under the bed farthest to the right and took cover under it.
Later that day, I heard some voices from the living room. They were Manitoba, Ontario, and Quebec. They were going out to a local disco for the night, and they were eating a quick meal before they went, so that any alcohol they drunk (which was highly likely) would take longer for its detrimental effects to kick in. I listened to them eating and getting ready, then I heard the door close.
Then, New Brunswick came home, too. She was going out with Saskatchewan from the neighbouring city (I told you before, New Brunswick has found someone else, so there might be no point getting her and Nova Scotia back together now) and she was sitting in the living room, watching TV and waiting for him to come. Eventually, Saskatchewan arrived, so she turned off the TV and left the house with him.
It was dark and completely silent. I could hear crickets chirping outside and people chatting to each other. Suddenly, I heard a car pull up outside the empty (well, except for me) house. "Oh, God," I moaned to myself quietly. "Please, please, PLEASE don't let it be Nova Scotia." I remembered his warnings from earlier; I shivered in expectation and unease as I heard footsteps walking up the driveway. I could tell by the sounds of the footsteps that they weren't happy footsteps. They sounded sharp and angry. "Oh, no…" I groaned softly, "Is it who I fear it might be?" I would have to wait in anxiety to find out who it was. I heard the door close, a bag being put down and a huff of discontent from the kitchen. "Mee…" I whimpered quietly. My shivering intensified as the footsteps drew nearer. The bedroom door opened, then closed again. The footsteps were getting louder now. My leg had gone sore from it being stuck in the same position for so long, so I decided to move it. However, doing so made the sole of my shoe scratch against the carpet, making a horrible grating sound. Nova Scotia's furious eyes turned a glittery ominous orange, and he stomped over to the bed on the far right, under where I was hiding. He lifted up the draping mattress jacket, grinning deviously, his glistening orange eyes dazzling me. My cover had been given up; he had found me, and he was ready to exact his revenge.
"Oh, no…" I moaned loudly, as he grabbed me by the neck so hard it left red marks around it. Nova Scotia lay me down on the bed, stomach down. I watched him loosen his black ribbon and straighten it out. "Oh, God… Not this AGAIN," I groaned to myself. Nova Scotia threw himself back, and letting out a massive, furious roar, he thrashed me with the ribbon. The jagged edges scored my skin, producing superficial gashes and small streams of blood. I sucked in air between my clenched teeth, trying to bear the dreadful, burning pain. Nova Scotia then took my left arm and whipped it a few times with the ribbon, making it red and hurt. "What is he doing this for?" I thought, as he took my right arm and gave it a few good whips, injuring it and turning it rubicund. He then went on to whip the back of my legs, which really hurt. "Oh, yes, that's right…" I thought, feeling the razor-like edges of the ribbon slashing my skin, making it bleed.
After he'd finished with whipping me, Nova Scotia lay the ribbon on the floor. "Stand up, you traitor!" he yelled vociferously, a gust of halitosis wafting onto me. "Ugh… What…" I moaned, exhausted from all that whipping he'd done. I took a few steps. But because it was dark, I couldn't find my way around. Nova Scotia exploited the darkness to his advantage. He snared the ribbon around my feet and I came down crashing to the floor.
Nova Scotia turned me around onto my back, stood right above me with his back facing me, and draped his ribbon over his shoulders. I knew from last time what he was going to do. "No!" I wailed noisily, as he let a big one rip onto me. A brown puff of sulphur billowed all over my face. Nova Scotia moistened his lips. "Premium lobster with added juice, meat and flavour works wonders!" he chuckled. "Lobster, huh?" I thought, as he cut another awful-smelling explosion onto me. "Did he hold that in all day?!" Nova Scotia let out yet another stinking blast onto my face. "Whoopsie!" he cooed in a mock, childish voice. "Yuck!" I complained, waving away the malodorous air. "Oh, you're enjoying this, aren't you, my dear?" Nova Scotia crooned sweetly, letting another big one rip onto me. "No!" I shouted firmly, wriggling with the horrible stink. "No?" he replied, looking disappointed. Then he smiled sadistically. "Well, I'll just keep going regardless." He broke wind on me once again, the smell becoming unbearable.
To make this "gas torturing" even more agonizing, Nova Scotia decided to put me under the duvet and do his thing into it. He did just that; he picked me up from the floor, with me kicking and screaming, and buried me under the duvet. Sitting with his legs on each side of the bed and re-draping the ribbon over his shoulders, he proceeded to break wind into the opening. As it was in a claustrophobic space, the dreadful odour was twice as strong. "Ah… It feels so good to let that out after so long…" he sighed in relief. "Eugh…" I moaned, my vision turning brown from the cloud of intestinal gas that wavered in front of me.
Suddenly, my face turned green, and my eyes began to water. I was nauseous! Nova Scotia cut another vile-smelling blast into the opening. "How much of that 'premium' lobster did he eat?!" I wondered, as Nova Scotia let loose yet another gassy explosion in my face. Nova Scotia moisturized his lips again, as if he somehow knew I was thinking about lobster. "So juicy, so meaty, so flavourful…" he sang contentedly, breaking wind into my face once again. Come to think of it, in the situation I was in, I felt like a lobster myself – I was trapped in a cramped space, like a cooking pot, and I was being boiled alive by Nova Scotia's hot wind-breaking. I squeezed my eyes together in misery, wailing sadly, trying to cope with the revolting stink. "I see you're suffering…" remarked Nova Scotia, smiling cruelly. "I don't care. Keep on feeling my lobster-induced windy blasts from hell." "Damn good analogy there," I thought, just as he ripped another steamy, blazing detonation into my face. "Oh, and here's your dessert… Chocolate mousse with cocoa powder!" he chuckled, ripping more huge ones into my face. By now, my face was green as freshly-picked peas, and I could feel a deep, squelching sensation in my stomach. "So… his farts really are a weapon of GAS destruction," I thought humourlessly, as Nova Scotia let rip another enormity into my face.
Nova Scotia exhaled a huge sigh of relief. "Good job," he praised, patting his stomach. "I'm so proud of you." As if to agree with him, his stomach growled, and he let rip yet another gassy blast into my face. "Nggghhh…" I moaned, feeling sick to my stomach.
Nova Scotia got up from the bed, re-draping the ribbon over his shoulders. He pulled back the cover, releasing all the windy explosions he'd made in there out into the open space of the bedroom, making the room smell even fouler. He picked me up from the bed and stood me up in front of him, grabbing me by the shoulders. "Here. Let me take you for a spin," he warbled. "Oh, alright…" I replied, and then my voice suddenly turned into a scream as he whirled me around so fast, like those carousel rides you see at a funfair. "Heh heh," he smirked, folding his arms and grinning evilly. He watched me spin around at turbo-speed sadistically. The ribbon nearly flew off his shoulders because of the velocity I was spinning at, but he managed to catch it just in time and drape it over his shoulders again. I slowed down and stopped spinning, totally disoriented. Like in cartoons, stars and planets whirled around my head, and my eyes turned into Swiss-roll swirls. My nausea was worsening. "You didn't mean it literally!" I moaned through my dizziness. Nova Scotia chuckled deviously, and he took my shoulders again and gave me another high-speed spin.
"I… feel… so… dizzy…" I wailed, my voice wavering. Nova Scotia chuckled evilly again, watching me whirl at the speed of light. He held on to the ribbon so it wouldn't go flying like before. I came to a halt, feeling extremely giddy. "I… see… double…" I wailed, my unstable sight making me see two of everything in the room, even Nova Scotia himself. Nova Scotia took me by the shoulders again, and blasted a gust of bad breath onto my face. "Mints are much needed, thanks," I said sarcastically. "Mints? Hah! Those are for losers!" he shouted, blowing another draught of halitosis onto me. "They're too strong for me! I like my breath stinky, like garbage left out on a hot day!" "Ugh," I complained, as he blew more foul breath onto me, a little piece of something he ate sticking to my cheek. Nova Scotia then forced my mouth open and blasted more halitosis into it. The squelching feeling in my stomach was worsening even more. He gusted another bluster of bad breath onto my face, and I writhed about in disgust. He kept me locked in place with his controlling grip.
Nova Scotia grabbed my shoulders once again. "You want some fried breakfast, my dearie?" he chirruped. "But it's night-time," I replied, confused. He didn't listen to me, of course, and he dragged me into the kitchen. I wriggled about, moaning and trying to kick my way out, but he kept me firmly in his grip.
Nova Scotia stood me up and opened the cooking utensil cupboard. He fetched a frying pan and closed the cupboard doors. "Let me fetch the bacon," he tweeted. He went up to me and whacked me over the head with the pan. Blood flew everywhere. "Eek!" I howled, rubbing the area where I'd been hit. Nova Scotia chuckled. "Hah! Take that, you bitch!" he suddenly bellowed, and he slapped me hard on my extremity with the pan once again, sending blood zooming all over. "Oww!" I yelled in pain, rubbing the injured area. "You bitch! Bitch! BITCH!" screamed Nova Scotia in fury, slapping me over and over all over me with the pan, blood soaring all around. "You fraggin' BITCH!" He proceeded to wham both my shoulders with the pan, blood whizzing everywhere, making them go stiff. "Oof…" I moaned, massaging them to relieve them of discomfort.
He kept on whacking different parts of my body, making blood zip everywhere and the parts that he hit throb with ache. He shouted lots of swear words at me as he walloped me with the pan. Nova Scotia then took out a second frying pan from the cupboard. "Double the power!" he yelled furiously, and he slapped the sides of my face with the two pans together, bases facing the sides of my face, making blood splatter everything around me. I shook from left to right speedily and giddily, my dizziness and nausea worsening even more. "Now… I… see… triple…" I cried, extremely disoriented, seeing three of everything in the room – Nova Scotia himself included.
Nova Scotia threw me down onto the cold, hard floor and stomped the ground next to my ears so hard that I flinched from the bass-like, resonant sounds his feet made. He built up a huge gob of saliva in his mouth, then he spat it out right onto my face, with some of it leaking into my eyes so that my vision went cloudy. "Eww," I complained, my sight getting even more obscure every passing second. "Hmm," smiled Nova Scotia rather angrily, obtaining pleasure from seeing me in so much pain and suffering.
"And now, the grand finale!" he announced proudly. He took the ribbon from over his shoulders and loosely wrapped it around my foot. "Huh?" I wondered, as he picked me up via the ribbon. He slowly spun me around, like a wheel turning unhurriedly. The ribbon tightened its grip on my foot as he spun me round, so it wouldn't come loose. Nova Scotia upped the speed a little more. Everything around me started to blur as I spun faster. The saliva spilled out of my eyes and all over the floor, blending with the blood. Nova Scotia increased the speed he spun me at a little more over time, until he spun me around as fast as a washing machine at full cycle. "Eeee…" I squealed as he speeded up the spinning even more. Eventually, he spun me so fast that both him and me were just blurs of colour. My food whirled around in my stomach. "Ooh…" I squalled as he spun me around at the speed of light. Finally, with a loud, deep, bellowing yell, Nova Scotia flung me up and away. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" I screamed really loudly so that the whole of Riverville could hear me, flying so rapidly that I broke a hole in the Benjamins' house's roof. Nova Scotia saluted as he watched me take off into the black, night sky with shiny white stars. "Looks like I'm blasting off again!" I screeched noisily as I soared into the pitch-black, starry night sky, my screaming voice eventually fading away, and disappearing in a little diamond-like white twinkle.
I zipped out of my computer, and it rattled loudly again. It was now night-time, and my room – in fact, the whole house – was completely dark. I crash-landed on my bed, saying "Oof!" and immediately passing out.
I was unconscious for about 10 minutes. My nausea woke me up. Clutching my poor stomach, with food squelching inside, laying a hand on my aching, sweating head and feeling extremely dizzy, I rushed downstairs and threw the bathroom door open. I tossed it shut, opened the toilet lid and violently projectile-vomited into it. The pain and hotness I felt was unbearable. My face was as green as fresh grass in the spring, and it had a little touch of red as well from my heavy perspiring. I vomited so much and with so much force that when I'd spewed everything out, all that was ejected was a clear liquid, which I assumed was water. After emptying my stomach, everything went pitch-dark, and I passed out again on the toilet seat, a disgusting, bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
I was very ill for the next few days. Confined to my bed with a bedpan and a bucket handy beside me in case I needed to vomit, I had to take time off my "job", which meant I couldn't write or draw or do anything creative for the next few days or so. Because of that, I spent most of the day napping, a dull pain in my stomach, waking up only to vomit or use the bedpan.
One day, waking up from a long nap, sitting upright in my bed, some prepared tomato soup with garlic croutons on my bedside table, and my computer in front of me, I booted it up and started up my game. Nova Scotia was at a psychiatric ward in North Riverville, sitting down on a chair in the waiting room, fists on his cheeks and elbows on his knees, feeling very irritated. A nurse came up to him. "Nova Scotia Benjamin," she called his name. He grumbled and got up from the chair, following her into the doctor's room.
Nova Scotia greeted the doctor in a mildly angry mood and lay down on a bench nearby, putting his head down on a soft, white pillow. "So, basically, our creator made my ex-wife dump me. She was like, 'high', like being on drugs. Now we don't see each other anymore…" The doctor took some notes down in his notepad. And just as I expected (and feared), Nova Scotia's eyes began to glow an ominous orange. He turned to me, his shiny orange eyes penetrating my soul. "I haven't given up," he grumbled. "Don't think you're safe just now. The worst is still yet to come. I'll hatch more new torture methods for you – as well as a few old favourites. So, remember, Mrs. Creator Of Us… I'LL BE BACK!" he roared furiously, making the doctor gasp in horror. I gasped in horror, too. "Oh, no…" I moaned. I saved and exited the game, and shut my computer off. Putting my computer away, I took my soup, tasting the lovely, smooth flavour of pureed tomatoes, blended with the strong tang of garlic and crusty crunch of croutons.
After a few days, I felt a lot better. Tomato soup with garlic croutons really does cure queasiness. I was just about to go to sleep, yawning loudly. As I turned off the light and strolled to my bed, I thought about what Nova Scotia had warned me about. Shuddering in fear and anticipation, I clambered into my bed and pulled the soft and thick duvet over me. I took a look at the time on my phone, like I always do before going to sleep, lay my head down on the supple, cottony, thick pillow and fell asleep instantly.
No sooner had I fallen asleep than my computer began to rattle with a funny aura, and a certain someone crept out of it. I couldn't hear anything – my sense of sound shuts down when I'm asleep, anyway. He had shimmering, orange eyes, matching his ginger hair. He curled his arms around me, his hot, stinking breath blustering onto my face (but my sense of smell shuts down when I'm sleeping, too, so I couldn't catch it) and slowly and carefully picked me up. My vision became whitewashed from his shiny orange eyes being so close to mine. He took me over to the computer, which began to rattle and radiate the weird aura again, and jumped inside, taking me with him. I didn't even notice.
Nova Scotia lay me down on his bed, a puff of halitosis gusting onto me, but I couldn't smell it. My vision blackened again as he left me on my own, closing the door silently and going to sleep in the living room – all the other Benjamins were staying at a hotel in another city. I lay on my right side and slept ever so peaceably, not noticing where I was until the very next morning.
THE END.