A/N: And out of boredom, I decide to write a fanfic. No, this is not a romance story. It may be Sam P. and Freddie B., but it's not a romance story. I don't do that :P Anyways, enjoy. No useless reviews (which is unlikely because I reject anonymous reviews) and I hope you enjoy.
This fanfic is based on one of the greatest stories ever written. Could you guess what it is?
Disclaimer: iCarly, the story I'm talking about and all other intellectual property do not belong to me.
I have tried my best to endure Sam Puckett's insults. But she doesn't know when to stop. She thinks of me as weak, spineless, afraid. She will never take me seriously, which is a good thing. I knew that, in the long run, I would be able to get back at her. But there was always this risk. Then I found the perfect opportunity to strike. It was perfect! Revenge alone isn't enough. I seek revenge but I also seek that I do it with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.
I never gave myself away. I was good at hiding plans, keeping secrets. She'll never suspect a thing! As long as I give her the idea that she is superior, I should be safe. I continued to keep civil. I pretended to be patient. I still find opportunities to make satirical remarks and endure the consequences. She'll never know that, every night, I dream of her destruction.
Like everyone else, she had her weaknesses. It was an understatement to say that every single person had feared Sam Puckett. But like everything, she has weak spots. She prided herself on her connoisseurship in meat, most especially ham. Few people nowadays have the true virtuoso spirit. Like most of her kind, she was weak with technology. Her inflated ego never gave her the time to learn respect and study human interaction. This is where my advantages come in. This is where I executed the evilest thing I've done in my life.
It was near midnight, one evening during the iCarly anniversary party that I decided to execute my plan. This is where I approached her. She accosted me with excessive warmth, for she had been drinking much. She looked silly in her attire. She had done a dare that she would wear a jesters attire. It was a striped outfit with an equally silly hat. It gave me joy to see her look so ridiculous.
I said to her -"Sam Puckett! Just the person I was hoping to see! You look really er... flamboyant today. But I have received a pound of what looks like Bolivian Bacon.
"How?" she said. "Bolivian Bacon? A pound? Impossible! "
"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was foolish enough to pay the full price without thinking about asking you. I couldn't contact you. My battery was dead. I'm afraid I fell for a scam."
"Bolivian Bacon!"
"I have my doubts."
"Bolivian Bacon!"
"And I must satisfy them."
"Bolivian Bacon!"
"I could see that you're busy so I was on my way to see Carly and—"
"Carly couldn't tell ham from bacon."
"But she's tried Bolivian bacon too. I think she would know."
"Come, let us go."
"Where?"
"To wherever it is."
"No, Sam; I wouldn't want to stop you from having fun. I can see that you're only getting started. Carly-"
"I 'm not busy; -come."
"I can't. It's not the party but the cold you seem to have. It's a bit damp down there. Cobwebs hang from the ceilings. Dust is all around. It would only agitate your allergies."
"Let us still go. I'm not weak, you nub! A cold is nothing. There's Bolivian bacon waiting!. And as for Carly, she doesn't even know the difference between ham and bacon"
She yanked my arm with great pressure, causing me to stumble. She put on her hoodie and placed the hood over her head. I asked her to come into my apartment.
My mom wouldn't be here. She had another double shift at the hospital. There was a shortage of manpower and she was really needed. After that, she would have this parenting conference or something. I told her that I could take care of myself. Convinced, she would be gone for the next two weeks. No one will need to know about this. It was so easy.
I took from the drawers two LED torches, giving Sam the other one. We hailed a cab and shortly thereafter, we were at our destination. It was a seemingly abandoned building. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting her to be careful as she followed. After a long flight of stairs, we were at the damp grounds of the Benson Catacombs.
Her gait was unsteady, and the bells upon her cap jingled as she walked.
"Where is it?" she asked.
"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white web-work which gleams from these cavern walls."
She looked at me with clouded eyes. Eyes that would tell that she was intoxicated.
"Cobwebs?" she asked, at length.
"Cobwebs" I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"
"Ugh! ugh! ugh! -ugh! ugh! ugh! -ugh! ugh! ugh! -ugh! ugh! ugh! -ugh! ugh! ugh!"
She found it impossible to speak for a few minutes.
"It is nothing," she said, at last.
"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health is precious. The bacon could wait. Your condition will worsen. Besides, I could always ask Carly-"
"Enough," she said; "A cough won't kill me."
"True -true," I replied; "I didn't want to alarm you -but you should be careful all the same. Take this. It will help."
I handed her a small corked flash with clear liquid.
"Drink," I said, presenting the bottle to her.
She drank it in one swig. She shook her head as though trying to focus herself. The bells on her cap jingling merrily.
"I drink" she said "to all the nerds buried here."
"And I to your long life."
She took my arm and we proceeded.
"These vaults," she said, "they're pretty big."
"The Bensons," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."
"I forgot your coat of arms."
"An atom with a torch in the middle."
"And the motto?"
"In longo spatio, vicimus."
"Nerds." she said, shaking her head in laughter.
We had passed through long walls of piled skeletons, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Sam by an arm above the elbow.
"The cobwebs" I said; "see, it increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults. We are below the river's bed. It's becoming really moist. We'll go back. Your cough-"
"It's nothing," she said; "let us go on. Could I have another swig of that liquid?"
I handed her another bottle. Again, she emptied it in one swig. She laughed and threw the bottle upward in gesticulation.
I looked at her in surprise. Shee repeated the movement -a grotesque one.
"You don't get it?" she said.
"Nope." I replied.
"You really are a nerd."
"How?"
"You're no cool kid."
"Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."
"You? Impossible! A cool kid?"
"Yeah." I replied.
"A sign," she said, "a sign."
"It is this," I answered, producing from beneath the folds of my coat a trowel.
"Liar" she exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let's forget about that. Let's proceed."
"Okay," I said, returning the tool beneath my coat and again offering her my arm. Shee leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route in search of the Bolivian bacon. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our nostrils to flare up slightly.
At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no special use within itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
"Proceed," I said; "The bacon is just there. As for Carly -"
"She knows nothing," she interrupted as she stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at her heels. In an instant she had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding her progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it. She was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.
"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feeling the moisture. Indeed, it is very damp. Once more let me implore you to return. No? Then I must positively leave you. But I must first render you all the little attentions in my power."
"The Bolivian Bacon!" she ejaculated, not yet recovered from her astonishment.
"True," I replied; "the bacon."
As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I uncovered some hollow blocks. With these materials and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered that the Sam's intoxication had worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth; and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labors and sat down upon the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I continued, and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly as tall as I was. I again paused, and holding the flashlight over the mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.
A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated, I trembled. With a nearby stick, I groped around the recess; but the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I approached the wall.
It was nearly sunrise, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth and the tenth tier. I had finished a portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight; I placed it partially in its destined position. But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that of Samantha Puckett. The voice said-
"Ha! ha! ha! -he! he! he! –this is a really funny joke, Benson -he! he! he! –I'm sure we'll have a good laugh about it -he! he! he!"
"The Bolivian bacon!" I said.
"He! he! he! -he! he! he! -yes, the bacon. It's nearly sunrise. Everyone will be waiting for us. Let's go"
"Yes," I said, "let us go."
"For the love of God, Freddie!"
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
But to these words I paused for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud -
"Puckett!"
No answer. I called again -
"Hey Puckett!"
Nothing. I heard only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick; it was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so. I hastened to make an end of my labor. I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. No one has disturbed them for half a century.
"Requiescat in Pace." I said. I turned my back on the sealed wall and before I knew it, I walked out of the catacombs. The surge of sunlight temporarily blinded me as I stepped out of the seemingly abandoned building. I locked the front door and hid the key. No one would ever know. My deed is done, and so is she.
A/N: Phew! Like I said, though the characters might be Sam P. and Freddie B., this is not a Seddie romance fanfic. I'm sorry to disappoint you. So, did you guess the story I was referring to? If you do, good for you