"Mistakes on the part of nature, the living proof of what we're calling love.
On certain sideways streets, where things that don't match, meet."
–Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk, by The New Pornographers
A Stranger's Nightmare
Chapter One
Arthur Kirkland sloshed through puddles and sheets of rain, wanting nothing more than dry clothes and a hot cup of tea.
"If only than damn economics teacher would stop her relentless droning and let the class out on time for once, I wouldn't have to put up with all this sodding rain," he grumbled, shoving his soaked straw-blond hair out of his eyes.
It wasn't like he even enjoyed the class. It was just a random choice to fulfill the university's required core curriculum. Arthur's true passion lay far from the realm of business and mathematics, in literature.
The earthy scent of yellowed pages, the perfect choice of words to evoke just the right emotions and pull on all the right heartstrings, ink on the page and stories in the heart and mind. That was Arthur's brand of magic.
…A magic that was currently fading, since he'd been using his books inadvertently to shield his head from the rain.
"ARGH-" Arthur frantically switched from using the books to protect himself to shielding them from the rain with his entire body.
Despite his best efforts, the pages were already sticking together, the ink smudging slightly, and all of his notes had become completely illegible.
Precious books ruined, all because this bloody required class was on the opposite side of campus from his dorm in the English Department. Brilliant.
Well, nothing left to lose now. Admitting, defeat, Arthur let the books drop to his side and trudged on miserably through the dull gray city streets. He vaguely pondered whether all this torrential rain was really common in America, or if a particularly vindictive raincloud had followed him when he left England in his late high school years and had been chasing him down ever since, intent on ensuring that he remained pale, damp, and slightly uncomfortable for the rest of his life.
A burst of color and sound and most importantly dryness interrupted his reverie.
Wedged in a side street between two concrete office buildings was some sort of festival. Tents of vivid red and gold sheltered the whole alley and hung over the sidewalk, giving Arthur a brief reprieve from the rain. Strings of lamps hung overhead, dispelling the rainy gloom and giving a cheery glow to the street.
Folksy music was winding its way over from some old-timey band, and tables of merchandise lined the alley. Among the wares were ornate swords, hand-crafted jewelry, woven shirts, glittering crystals, intricate carvings, glass ornaments, even hand-bound books…
The merchants themselves were quite an extraordinary sight too. Clad in brown leather and corsets and buckles and capes, some groups resembling bands of pirates while others dressed fit to be royalty. One curious fellow was even clanking down the street in a full suit of armor, much to the amusement of a jovial playwright and his merry group of actors and admirers.
'A Renaissance Faire,' Arthur realized, letting his eyes wander the scenery and indulging he mind with thoughts of fairy tales and adventure prompted by the sight. He hadn't seen any Fairs this spectacular since he'd moved here, and he certainly wasn't going to pass up the chance to wander around for a bit here, especially since his eyes kept lingering on those gorgeous leather-bound books with ribbon bookmarks and creamy fresh pages…
Trying to forget his sopping wet shoes and dripping books, Arthur gravitated towards the Faire's bustling entrance and sidled on in.
He struggled to navigate through the cramped alleyway, especially since the merchants were all very enthusiastic salespeople.
"You there! Young man! Care to buy some jewelry for your girlfriend?"
"You need protection, kid! It's dangerous to go alone, take this sword!"
"Pfft, forget those swords, one of these energy crystals can give you all the protection you need!"
"Hey sweetie, want to see who's in your future? I can do a tarot reading for you if come inside…"
Arthur desperately tried to extract his hand from the surprisingly strong grip of the fortune teller, who was still trying to drag him into her violet tent. He stumbled backwards when she lost her grip, crashing into a slender blond boy in glasses.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry-" Arthur turned and apologized to thin air. That's odd, how could he have vanished so quickly? No matter…
A hand suddenly yanked him backwards by the collar, pulling him into a large brown yurt.
"Excuse me, would you mind not-" Arthur started, expecting to see that irritatingly persistent fortune teller again. Instead, he saw a friendly-looking, plump man with ruddy cheeks and a large nose, dressed in modest brown robes.
"Thought you might need a hand escaping from that fortune teller," the man explained, laughing heartily. "Watch out for yourself, that one's a vixen… And a fraud," he added quietly.
"Oh… er, thank you, I suppose…"
Arthur's sentence trailed off as he took in his surroundings. Although the yurt looked fairly simple and modest from the outside, matching the owner's style apparently, the interior was exquisite. The area was illuminated by dozens of finely crafted lanterns of all shapes and sizes, which dangled from the ceiling and stood on foldout shelves. The tiny candle lights glittered through colored glass covered in intricate designs, forming patterns on the canvas cover of the yurt. The overall effect was ethereal and dazzling.
"These are beautiful," said Arthur, taking a closer look at a little lantern with amethyst purple glass spinning lazily on a string overhead.
"Thank you very much, lad. The glass is all hand-stained, by yours truly of course!" The man chuckled to himself, then leaned forward with a curious expression, peering closely at the lost Brit.
Arthur shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. It felt a bit like the man's sharp grey eyes were searching for something. Just as the awkwardness got unbearable and Arthur opened his mouth to excuse himself, the man's eyes twinkled and he backed away again.
"Hold on lad. I think you could use one of these."
The man shuffled over to the edge of the yurt, and pulled out a small lantern from a plain wooden box, the ceremoniously presented it to a slightly confused Brit.
"Er… thanks awfully, but I don't really think I need one of these."
"Nonsense! It was made for you, perfectly suits you really, just take a look!"
Arthur obliged the pushy salesman with a sigh. There was no doubt that the lantern was beautiful. The metal was jet black, and the top formed a dome that swirled in fine patterns with gaps to let out the candle smoke and light, and a ring at the top to hold it with. The sides were paneled with diamond-patterned glass of an intense blue, the exact shade of the cloudless skies on a perfect summer day.
But really, who used a lantern in this day and age? And in the city no less.
…Probably the same type of person who didn't own a television, and wrote all his papers with a fountain pen, and hung around second-hand bookshop searching for obscure, out-of-print novels…
"All right then, I'll take it."
"Excellent, excellent," said the salesman, handing over the delicate lantern. "You won't regret it, trust me. It'll do you a world of good. The other fella took way more convincing though, lemme tell ya!"
"Er, what?"
"Oh, nothing, just talking to myself really," the man said, a bit flustered.
"Well, thank you very much," Arthur said politely, turning towards the yurt's entrance, lantern safely in tow.
"Oh, wait, one more thing!"
Arthur slowly turned on his heel.
"That'll be fifteen dollars."
※
SLAM.
Matthew cringed, grinding his teeth and making his hands into fists on his desk and trying very, very hard to stay calm in the face of the oncoming "storm"…
"HEEEEYYY BRO! How's the work goin'? I bet you were just dying for me to come in and distract you from it, huh? Anything to get out of writing that essay, right? Hahaha!"
Alfred, Matthew's twin brother, started spouting his usual nonsense while Matthew rubbed his temples and tried desperately to fend off the approaching headache. He had recently been wondering whether he should have gone to a different college than Alfred, possibly just to save his own sanity. They weren't even roommates, yet he always found himself being dragged along on his wild escapades. And then being left to clean up the mess afterwards. It was getting very tiring.
"So, so would that be okay Mattie? You don't mind, do ya?"
Crap. Wasn't listening. "Um, sorry Al, I'm not sure I understand what you're asking…?" There. Good save.
"Well ya seeeee, there was this new horror movie out on DVD today, and since I'm so brave and awesome and all, I went ahead and watched it in my dorm room. And, well, long story short, if I stay in the dark by myself for too long I'm gonna get eaten by demons." Alfred grinned shakily.
Ah. Of course. He should've noticed earlier, the signs were all there. Eyes open way too wide, shaky voice, sweaty palms, non-stop jiggling his right foot. He was scared witless by one of those stupid movies. Again.
"So you won't mind if I just stay here tonight, right?" Alfred was busy rearranging pillows on his brother's bed, for some reason.
Matthew struggled to keep his voice level. "Alfred, I'm actually kinda busy right now, and it's gonna be crowded once my roommate gets back, and… what, what exactly are you doing to my bed?"
"Fortifying it," Alfred replied, huddled in the middle of an impressive pillow fort. "To fend off demons. For some reason blankets and pillows feel safe, dunno why."
Matthew's eye twitched. His twin could get pretty hopeless when it came to horror movies, but he was seriously at his wits end. Enough stress had piled up during the week to make even his serene demeanor crack. And enough was enough.
He spun his chair around slowly, and stared his brother down with a menacing glare. "Alfred F. Jones," he hissed through his teeth, "get the hell out of my room and face your own goddamn demons. I have not slept properly in days, I have a huge essay due for my psych class tomorrow, and I am quite frankly sick of dealing with you and your problems. Leave. Me. A-l-o-n-e."
Alfred stared wide-eyed from deep inside the pillow fort. He hadn't seen Mattie this angry since Alfred accidentally broke his hockey stick while trying to pretend he knew how to demonstrate the correct technique for a slap-shot. Which was only last week, but still, he was scary when he was this pissed.
But scarier than demons? No way.
"But Maaaatttiiiieee~" Alfred whined. He was stepping on seriously thin ice here.
Matthew shut his eyes and put his head in his hands. His game must be way off if even his glares weren't getting through to Alfred. Either that, or Al was too scared shitless to care. This called for some slightly different methods.
"Alright Al. I've got something that should help you out." He scooted his chair back over to his desk, pulled out a paper bag stowed underneath it, then scooched back over near the bed with as much dignity as he could muster.
He eyed Alfred gravely over the edge of his glasses. (And the edge of the pillow fort.)
"Alfred. The contents of this bag are my gift to you. Its powers are not to be taken lightly. If used correctly, it will protect you from your fears, but if not…" Matthew widened his eyes and trailed off into an ominous silence as he reached into the bag and drew out an ornate lantern with emerald green glass, thanking his lucky stars that he was gifted with the ability to generate this sort of bullshit story quickly.
Alfred slowly raised his head from the pillow fort, staring flatly back at his brother.
"Mattie, do you seriously expect me to believe that this is some sort of magical enchanted lantern? I'm not five. I don't believe in magic. That isn't going to help me fend off any demons."
Crap. Contingency Plan. "No, of course it's not magical. But I have reason to believe it was engineered using…" He leaned in closer for the clincher. "Alien technology."
Now that got Alfred's attention. He leaned forward, abandoning the safety of his pillows for this ray of hope. "How do you know that?"
"Overheard the man who sold it to me talking on his cell. I'm not sure I can safely repeat what he said Al…" Matthew stared off into the middle distance dramatically. "…Anybody could be listening."
Alfred closed his eyes and nodded solemnly. Eyes snapped open again.
"But Matt, don't you think this is kind of valuable then? I mean, if it's alien tech… why're you giving it to me? Don't you need it to protect you too?"
Argh, he's so damn inquisitive! "The guy at the store said it wasn't meant for me… I guess he meant it would only work for certain people?"
That much was true at least. He'd just been taking a shortcut back to the dorm, minding his own business, when he got stuck in a huge crowd at a faire, and some nutjob basically forced him to buy the lantern, then had the audacity to say it wasn't 'meant for him,' whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. What a weirdo.
Alfred finally reached out and took the proffered lantern, looking wary, but not the slightest bit skeptical anymore. He took that alien business very seriously. He examined it closely, examining the patterned glass and candle wick.
"Fire-powered tech's a little old for aliens… but I guess if it was supposed to be disguised as an ordinary human object… that's pretty smart. So I guess all I have to do is light it, huh? All right, sweet! Thanks bro!"
Alfred's grin slowly spread wider as he spoke, his heroic confidence re-emerging with his feeling of safety reinforced.
"Well, I guess I'll let you get back to your little story then!"
"Essay, Alfred, it's for class."
"Mmmmyeah whatever," Alfred said, losing interest in his brother already. He marched on over to the door and slammed it shut behind him, forgetting to even say goodbye.
But finally, Matthew had peace.
※
The textbooks had been blow-dried, the shoes left to drain out, and the lantern was lit and flickering on Arthur's desk. The clock had struck midnight hours ago and still here he was, poring over his textbooks and scribbling rapidly in a notebook. Even his insomniac Japanese roommate had long since shut his laptop and shuffled off to bed.
God, he just wanted a moment of rest and relaxation so badly. But no, not until he finished reading, not until the notes were complete, not until bloody hell it's almost three in the morning already, how am I supposed to function tomorrow with all this work to do?
Arthur dropped his head into his hands and sighed. I suppose I could leave it until tomorrow, let the study schedule go just a bit, I still have some time before the assignment's due and I've already got the bulk of it finished so it should be fine…
Arthur's eyelids drooped as his thoughts trailed off. His head sank lower in his hands, head bobbing down slowly in the candlelit glow until it finally hit the desk and he passed out into merciful, restful slumber.
※
The sky was so vivid it almost hurt his eyes. Beautiful, painfully perfect blue from horizon to horizon, and then the same blue reflected in the calm waters all around him. He floated effortlessly, a cool breeze tickling his feathery blond hair as he leaned back and soaked up the sky.
Arthur felt all of his troubles slowly ebbing away with an invisible tide. He had no obligations here, no worries, no need to speak or smile or even think, nobody to bother with, and nothing but his own thoughts to occupy him.
And even his thoughts were pretty blank. Good. He could use a break from that too.
Blueness and silence, blueness and silence, blueness and silen-
Something bumped into his arm.
"Whoops, 'scuse me."
Someone broke his silence.
What?
Arthur wrenched his eyes from the vibrant sky and snapped his head up, looking for the intruder of his personal paradise.
He was met with more blue. The exact same startling blue in the form of eyes, accompanied by a disarmingly cheerful grin.
Arthur gaped.
This isn't possible. I'm meant to be alone here.
Still gaping.
The intruder floated along beside him, apparently without a care in the world, smiling serenely back at Arthur, as if he simply belonged there. Which Arthur recalled he most certainly did not. And this train of thought finally brought back his voice, allowing him to calmly, politely, and oh fuck it never mind I'll shout if I want.
"Who the HELL are you?"
※
…And so ends chapter 1. Hello, I'm Crumpet, the writer. Never written anything here before, so I hope you enjoyed it so far! I'd really appreciate some feedback, tell me if anything seems far too OOC or for grammar mistakes or stylistic flubs or anything at all. I don't write too often, I'm hoping to start doing so more.
I do like writing a snappy Matthew. I love him when he's snarky.
I don't have a particular set update schedule, but I do have the whole story planned out. So if anybody enjoys the story, please let me know in a review, and I'll update espeeecially for you! Or it should at least motivate me, I hope.
Till next time, then! Thank you for reading!