Fifty shades of Russia (Which might as well all be gray.)
It was a typical Friday afternoon in D.C. Killings, muggings, robberies, the usual things, all complimented by the thick industrial air and lovely green little lawns. I had taken a sick day, not really all that sick, and stayed at home in my boxers watching reruns of really crappy old soaps and Golden Girls. I was sprawled out on dad's recliner, chillin' with a bag of salted Ruffle potato chips and a two liter bottle of Mountain Soul juice. The episode that had been on was one I knew like the back of my hand. Blanche's brother was gay and bla bla bla. I flipped through the channels, looking for something with guns and blood and guts, and found nothing. So, I had done what any rational teen would do. I flipped to the T.V Guide and watched the weird dramas they had on, completely missing what was on the toon channel the first couple times.
Being at home while the poor saps I called classmates were in math had been a triumphant waterfall of awesome that poured down over me, proving that I was a badass. My mom had called me in sick, but that was badass enough as it was. I mean, it was my idea and all... Not that I would ever justify skipping school or anything, but the last couple of days were... weird.
So, earlier that week, Monday particularly, was fairly normal. Mom cooked food, I went to school, then I went home home, then ate more food, then went to bed, but after that the week got really odd.
I had gotten on the yellow turd rocket to hell that fine Tuesday morning and talked it up with my best buddy Jack. We'd talked about the normal stuff eighth grade boys talked about, which was boobs, but I digress, things got weird that day. Some particular cars started showing up more often, a fine black Mercedes Benz in all its German glory was the most notable, and there was a sudden surplus in the supply of fresh male teaching aides who did no actual aiding or teaching but sat around and bored their eyes into my soul. New adults also showed up at school, who loitered about and asked way too many personal questions like, "Are you sexually active?" and, "Do you have a girlfriend?", yet somehow unaffiliated and unknown to the school. My lunch table had slowly been infiltrated by weird angular people whom no one had seen before, and a very testy man with black hair started to hang around my locker after school. Now that shit is just weird, pardon my French, but the worst part was when I opened my locker that Thursday to put my books and candy wrappers away. My locker was clean. Spotless. Like a baby's butt. My books had been stacked and organized by size, color, and alphabet. Tied neatly to my backpack with a black ribbon was a letter, which was also bordered in black. The man who put them there was nowhere in sight.
I re-crapabatized my books, thew more trash into my locker than ever before, shoved the homework into my backpack and bolted my tiny ass to the bus. Shaken, I sat down next to Jack and stared at him like an idiot, hardly able to wrap my mind around the significance of what just happend.
"Bro, You okay?"
"Dude." I started, preparing to finish the sentence, but unable to find the words.
"What's wrong?"
"Like... Just..." I looked at the letter on my backpack. "Someone left me a letter in my locker..." I handed it to him.
"That's what this is about? A letter?"
"No, like," I had taken it back from him and started tearing it open. "They cleaned my locker and... organized it." I had the letter out and had opened it by then.
One day.
Was all it said.
"What the hell does that mean?" Jack asked, like I knew.
"It means I'm not coming to school tomorrow is what it fucking means!" I opened the front pocket of my backpack, the one I use for trash accumulated on the bus, and found it cleaned out too, and replaced with more black bordered letters. I opened them all, and found their contents to be a terribly cheesy rendition of the 'seven days' phone call, but on paper and with only five days.
That's why I was home on a school day. I'd told my mom and said she would talk to the principal about it when she could. I told her that I was not going to school, no matter what she said... But I said it nicer, with a begging, doe eyed, breathless "Please?" at the end.
So I lived it up on Golden girls, salt, caffeine, and toons, but I'd just gotten settled in my dad's recliner when the doorbell rang. I got up and looked through the peephole, but no one was there. I'm not dumb though, this is D.C. People kill you like that. You think the persons gone, so you open the door to look and BAM. They kill ya, right there in your own home. Then they pillage the place and leave without even shutting the door, all while in broad daylight! So, I knew not to just open the door because I really liked my Xbox, but I was also curious. What if the neighbor had crawled over bloody and in need of my expert hero skills? It was my job to save all the lives of my fellow citizens when they crawl on my doorstep bloody and dying!
So I peeked through the curtains to see if anyone was there, staining the concrete steps with their blood. Nope, no one, JUST A BLACK MERCEDES BENZ. So, I freaked out and almost crapped myself. What was I to do in a situation like this? The Popo? They wouldn't believe me. Mom? She'd kill me first. Dad? He was away on adult people things, and my twin brother was acctualy at school. I was alone, so I did what I had to do. I popped in Home Alone and learned from the best. Unfortunately It was a rather long movie and there was no actual guid on what supplies you needed or how to set things up, so I grabbed my bag of marbles, sat in the kitchen closet with the all the cleaning products and hoped for the best. After forever had past and no one had dragged my screaming ass forcibly from the kitchen supply closet, I got out on my own and went back to the living room, totally convinced that I was overreacting.
"Home alone? You Americans sure know how to make one hold their balls. I came in and half expected my cruder parts to be smashed off."
My heart jumped into my throat and my pulse picked up. I looked over at my dad's recliner to see if there really was a huge Russian man talking about his nuts being clobbered off in my house, but to my great relief it was just the creepy black haired guy that stuck around my locker, and not a Russian.
"Oh god. It's just you. I thought there was a Russian in my house..."
"I am Russian." He stated.
"Yes... that would makes sense because the voice... Why are you in my house?"
"You didn't lock the door."
"Oh. Yeah. That's right. I didn't do that." I stood there, looking at him, him looking at me, a soft friendly smile on his face. I was really shocked. Why else would I be thinking of normal reasons for the stalker guy to be in my house?
"Uh... You want something to drink? We got... soda and lemonade and other, uh... American shit..."
"No I am good, thank you." We looked at each other, my brain doing its best to grasp the situtation without panicking. He turned his head to look at me better.
"Yes, I like to look at your body, but when will you put clothes on?"
I jumped, and looked down at myself, patting my stomach a little. Boxers and socks. I'm such a lovely host.
"Oh shit! Geez I'm so sorry! Uh, i'll go do that now. Just... Just don't tell my mom, she'll kill me!" I ran up to my room and slammed the door.
"She will never have to know." I heard him say after me. I was pulling on my jeans when it all finally hit me. Black haired stalker guy was in my house. He was also a Russian. What made the situation 20 gazillion times worse because everyone knows Russians wrestle bears and have vodka for blood.
"Oh shit. Just keep your cool man. Nothings happened so far. Maybe he's just visiting. Maybe he wants to freak you out. Just Keep it cool. He'll leave when he figures out he ain't got nothin' on you." I pocketed my army knife and silently thanked the Swiss before heading back down to the living room, just in case I needed it.
"You sure you don't want anything." I asked him. "We have... Cheerios."
"No. I am fine."
"Meat?"
"No."
"Vodka? Rum? Wine?"
"I do not want anything."
"You sure? We have rat poison."
"No. I am fine, but valiant effort. I commend you."
I entered the living room and thought about where I should sit. If I sat too far away, he would have know I was shaken, but it would be stupid to sit close to him, so I decided to sit a little ways out of arm's reach on the sofa.
"You wish for this chair back?" He asked, and patted the plush arms of the recliner.
"No. It's hard to get out of when you're in a hurry. I'm fine here on the sofa that's easy to get off of, thank you."
"Oh, I see how you are."
"Yes... I am... are.."
"You amuse me."
"When are you leaving?"
"Oh, I do not know. Before you mother is due I suppose."
"She's coming home soon."
"You lie to me."
"I'm a liar."
"You are becoming a very bad one."
"Dude, you should like, really leave!"
"You should keep your locker clean, but i'm not here to tell you what to do, I am here to ask questions. Besides, we are friends now." He'd been thoroughly amused with the game he was playing on me.
"W...What? No. No. How do you make friends in Russia?" I started to lose my cool, irritated at this mans ability to just come into my house and not steal all the valuables. I'd started talking with my hands, shaking them at him, and poking my palm real hard to make sure he understood what I was telling him. "Dude, you are in America now. Not Russia. In America, we don't cleans out peoples lockers, or leave them creepy letters or-or like, come in their houses when we don't know them or like... be generally creepy and not steal their stuff. Do you understand what i'm saying to you? These are valuable American ideals! Like, so, don't do... what you're doing. Then we can be friends."
"So... change all that I am?" His smile never really changed, he just looked very amused and cocky.
"Or go back to Russia."
He laughed at this. If you could call the low rumble in his chest a laugh. He pointed at the movie stand.
"What do you like?"
"Dude, leave!"
"Tell me and I will do as you ask."
"... Seriously?"
He stared at me, not backing down.
"I like a lot of the movies! Thats why we buy them!"
"The games too?"
"YES."
"What do you like to eat."
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE."
"You must tell me for me to leave."
"I don't know! Peanut Butter?" I looked at the snacks placed around him. "That stuff! Chips and soda and other American things!"
"You are not the cleanest person."
"Please leave."
"Are you a virgin?"
"Oh my god. Get out of my house!" I went to the front door and opened it. "Leave. The door is here. Get out. Leave this house, get in your fancy car, get on a plane and go back to Russia. Or swim. Whatever gets you out faster."
He got out the the chair with ease and walked over to me.
"Maybe you do not understand, hm?" He'd leaned over me. "I can't leave just yet." His body was just behind mine, I could feel his breath on my neck.
"Shut the door."
I shut the door promptly on his command. He moved his hands to my neck and traced circles there before tightening his grip. "You're tall for your age." He whispered in my ear.
"I-I like girls."
He laughed, the amusement that was once there comepleatly gone.
"Answer my questions and everything will be fine, and I will leave, okay?" He tightened his grip even more. I made an attempt to rip his fingers from my neck, but was unsuccessful.
"Okay I get it! I get it." He started to release me and I grabbed my pocket knife and stabbed the fuck out of him, only to realize that I hadn't flipped the blade out. He grabbed my wrist, shoved his thumb between the bones and twisted. I screamed and thrashed. I reached behind me and scratched at his face, trying to draw blood. He shoved me against the door, and put pressure on my lower back, which made it hard to breath. I kicked back, trying to crush his balls, but the angle had been weird and I missed.
"Stop that, Alfred."
"God leave me alone."
"Stop or I'm going to have to hurt you."
I didn't stop. He sighed and slammed my head into the door. He released me and I slid down the door, cradling myself.
"I told you I would have to hurt you. You must listen to me." He crouched down to help me up, but I bolted past him and ran up the stairs to my room.
"You are making this very hard." He'd said before following me up the stairs. "You only have to answer my questions."
I was quick enough and managed to lock the door. I looked around for a way to get out, but found no escape but the window that lead two stories down. If I broke my legs I could never get away, but by that time he'd made it to the door and had tried to open it. I ran to my window, thinking it the only way out, but he'd used his freaky Russian strength to break my door down.
"Your parents are going to be very mad when they see what has happened to your door."
I'd gone behind my bed and started throwing shit at him. My lamp was the first to be thrown, shattering against the wall when I missed. Other things were thrown too, my alarm, books, pillows, a glass bowl. Nothing stopped him of course, for he was an unstoppable wall of Russian power.
He rounded the bed and I jumped over it, throwing my blanket at him, hoping it would stop him long enough for me to get away.
I ran down the stairs, and hoped to make it to the door but was only able to make it to the living room. I ran around the sofa and stood by the DVD stand, taking a few in hand to throw. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking at me, hand on the rail.
"Your feet."
I threw a DvD at him.
"You told me you liked all of those, must stop before you ruin them."
"Shut up!" My voice had been shaking and had probably gone a little horse by that time. I'd looked to the door and started to move towards it, but I hadn't masked my motives in the least so he was at the door before I had a chance.
"I'm getting tired of this Alfred."
"Stop saying my name!"
"Answer my questions."
"Get out of my house!"
He moved to me, and I ran forward, dropping the DvD's, running over the recliner and into the kitchen. He'd been just behind me, and in my scramble to be free I knocked over almost every kitchen appliances in the house. I'd been slow in my scramble though, and he grabbed me and threw me on the tile, pinning me down with his weight, which threatening to crush the air from my lungs.
"You have left blood everywhere."
"Let me go!"
"You are being silly, Alfred."
"Shut up!"
"Answer my questions."
"Let me go!"
"No."
"Please!"
"No. Just answer my questions."
I bucked up, trying to throw him off, but he stayed on.
"Stop this Alfred."
I reached up with my foot, grabbed a draw and yanked it out. It hit him in the back, but did no damage. I'd only succeeded in dropping a heavy drawer on my legs and scattering measuring cups all around.
"I will hurt you Alfred, stop this."
"Get off me!"
"I will hurt you Alfred, stop this!"
"Get off me!" I Reached up to bite him, and he punched me in the gut.
He started to talk very softly, as if to soothe me while I hacked up my guts.
"I just want you to answer a few questions for me. Just a few, and then I will be gone, never to set foot in your house again. I will even stop showing up at your school. Just a few questions is all, and we'll leave."
"There's more of you?"
"Of course. There are two people in this house Alfred. Answer the questions and we'll leave, okay?"
"And you'll leave forever?"
"Yes. Forever."
"...Let's get this over with."
"Good, I'm glad you came around." He pulled out a cell phone and pressed a button. "Talk into this, okay?" He held it to my face. "Okay, are you a virgin?" I didn't answer. "You must answer and we will leave. Forever."
"...Yes."
"Ah, good. What movies do you like?"
"Action, comedy. Stuff like that."
"Okay, what foods do you like?"
"I already told you!"
"Again please."
"Processed stuff, sweet stuff, sugar. Salt. American things. Peanut butter, chips, chocolate, soda. Pasta stuff, meat stuff, fried stuff."
"What don't you like?"
"Uh... Like... Liver and intestines and stuff. I don't like cooked spinach. Asparagus is nasty and makes your pee smell bad. I like to try everything though."
"Good to know. What clothes do you like to wear?"
"Like... Jeans and t-shirts and stuff. Abercrombie, American Eagle, Hollister. Soft things like that."
"Soft things?"
"Yes, that's what I said."
"This is also good to know. What do you do in your spare time?"
"T.V, video games, books, school work. What else would I do?"
"What do you like to do?"
"Outdoor stuff... Video games. The usual."
"What do you like to do outdoors?"
"Football, skiing, sledding. Go to the mall. BBQ's. Hang out with people..."
"This is all very good to know."
"Are you guys leaving now?"
"Yes, we are leaving now." He flipped the phone closed and put it away. He hauled me up. "Okay, here we go."
"Finally."
Before I knew it there was a cloth over my face. I tried to force him off without breathing, but everything had gotten dim, and I had lost my strength. I fell limp against him, barely conscious. The kitchen door opened.
"His feet are bleeding. He tried to fight me off, he is quite an energetic one." There was some laughing, and then everything faded to black.
Hello! This is my first fanfic, so please enjoy and review! Tell me of any boo-boos I may have made. I have started writhing this fic as a warm up for my senior project. I'm very bad at consistency, so if you do actually like the story and wish for updates, please pester me or it might not happen! Do keep in mind that I have to write my senior project or I wont be allowed to graduate, so that comes first! Enjoy!