When you've finished this chapter, would you please mind telling me if you like this sort of story, or if I should focus on other types? I want to write what you guys like reading, and I'm wondering whether I'm doing good or bad... thanks.
Also, if you don't mind, leave me a little review (this includes anon reviews too) telling me if you have an idea for something you'd like... have any of you been looking through the lists for a certain type of story, or plot line? If so, I'll be happy to help write one, whatever the type or rating – I love trying to write from new angles. Thanks :D
Private heaved a large stone off the ground with Rico. As they set it down on Kowalski's ('perfectly safe') catapult he groaned and stretched. Clearing out the chimp habitat of boulders after the latest weapons testing session was hard work. Plus, they suspected that Gus would have to be brought in after his vacation to fix the huge cracks the graphite rocks had caused as they smashed into the ground at high speeds. The dirt was even exposed below the concrete in some places. Luckily, no one was hurt.
Three boulders later (Skipper helping with the last one, they were so exhausted) the catapult was set off, launching the boulders high in the air towards the dump on the other side of town, and the chimp habitat was clear of large debris. Skipper ordered them to move out.
As they hopped up onto the wall, however, something caught Private's eye – something small, and greyish-brown, exposed by a hole in the concrete. "I'll catch you up," he told his unit.
"Don't be too long, Private," Skipper responded. "Move out, men." They dived from the wall and slid towards the penguin habitat.
Private walked over to the mystery object, feeling inexplicably drawn towards it. He bent down, then leapt back with a horrified gasp when he realised what it was.
It was a severed monkey's fist.
It looked ancient and withered, and the colour had faded from its matted fur. The back of the hand had four long, lumpy scars. Private didn't want to go near it, but still felt himself bending down again to pick it up. As soon as his flipper touched it, the fist flexed and the fingers stretched out until it stood on its stump, fingertips stretching towards the sky, revealing a palm which was criss-crossed with cracks and lines. It stood taller than Private. He grabbed a better hold of it in stunned awe. He could feel the ancient magic it held swirling under the skin and fur of the hand. He swallowed.
Private remembered the bad experiences he'd had with magic before – the possessed Lunacorn doll that tried to end the world, and the wishing fountain that almost got them dissected – so he knew he had to be careful with it. He rushed over to a corner and buried it under some more dirt, and placed a rock on top to completely hide it from view. He needed to ask about it before he made a terrible mistake...
"Kowalski, have you ever heard a story about a magic severed monkey's hand?" Private ignored the startled looks his unit were giving him. "I... heard it mentioned somewhere."
"Ah, yes," Kowalski mused, turning away from his experiments. "The Monkey's Paw..."
"I thought they had hands," Private frowned.
"They do, it's a misnomer," Kowalski pressed on, looking almost insulted that somebody would name a story so incorrectly. "It's an object which grants three or five wishes, depending on how the story is told... the wishes all come true... but, since it's a horror-movie item, every wish is cursed."
Private shuddered, but his eyes never left Kowalski's face. "Cursed?"
Kowalski nodded thoughtfully. "Every wish goes wrong. They get what they want... but it doesn't end well. For example, in one version of the story, a man and his wife wish for a sum of money, just to test the power of the paw, and a few hours later a lawyer turns up at their house with a cheque... their son was killed in an industrial accident. The lawyer brought them the compensation the business owed them for his death. The paw made their son die to grant them their wish."
Private's eyes were round in terrified fascination. "Is the paw real?" He said quietly.
Kowalski frowned. "Probably not, but sources show it might be somewhere in New York, buried by a child after he used up five wishes to made himself rich but an outlaw, accidentally kill his parents, burn down his school, and turn his friend into a pigeon, which was then eaten by his cat." He turned away. "We have one movie version in storage somewhere, if you want to watch a certain interpretation of the tale. It's a famous horror story."
"No, thank you," Private said, his voice wavering slightly. Could the hand he had found be that same paw? And such tragedy... "Isn't there a happier version of the tale?"
Kowalski thought for a moment before turning back around to face him. "Yes, I think so... a fairytale version where a princess got lost and found a (whole) monkey with a thorn in his hand, who said she could have 5 wishes after she helped him. She wished to return to her kingdom with the monkey. Then she wished for the castle to be saved from the dragon, then for true love with the hero, then for him to propose... and then for a happily ever after. And then the narrator said that he only granted the first two wishes, and the other three came on their own, 'as love always does'." He sighed at the happy, gushy expression that had emerged on Private's face. "Personally, I prefer the horror version."
Private was convinced that, it he was careful to avoid any negative consequences, he'd have his own happily ever after thanks to the monkey's paw. By the end of the day, he had a good idea of what his first wish would be. He'd wished it were true for so long that he wasn't surprised by how readily he made up his mind. And, what's more, he couldn't see how there could be any serious negative consequences. And the good consequences he could think of were amazing...
Private didn't think that happily-ever-afters were impossible, like some people did – Alice, 'Officer' X and Kowalski, to name a few. He thought these endings happened... and it would happen to him too with the magic of the paw.
He ran them through in his mind so much that he simply couldn't wait until morning. In the middle of the night, he sat up in bed and listened for any sign that the others were awake. All he could hear was three penguins breathing deeply in their sleep. Suddenly wide awake and quivering with excitement, he edged out of bed and lowered himself onto the floor.
As quietly as possible, he climbed the ladder and let himself out of the bunker. Private crossed the pool and exited the habitat, checking around him to ensure he was unseen. He rushed over to the chimp habitat, did a flip over the wall, and heaved aside the rock that hid the paw. His flippers scraped the earth away until it was revealed in all its filthy, faded, matted glory.
He lifted it, feeling the magic pulse within the object, in perfect harmony with his hyperactive heartbeat. Time to test whether it worked... he whispered to it what he had wanted for a long time.
"I wish that Skipper would like me... as in, like-like me, please." He smiled bashfully at his wish as the magic built up, a little embarrassed at himself and as excited as a kid who had just sent a letter to Santa. The magic inside the Paw pulsed once more – and the thumb curled downwards. The power in the Paw fanned out into the world.
The paw's faded, matted greyish fur was suddenly flooded with its natural darkish brown colour. Private gasped. The wish had made it younger, less damaged. Was it healing itself with the power generated by the magic? Awed, Private placed the monkey's hand back into the hole and covered it with dirt, and then rolled the stone back over it. It seemed as good a hiding place as any for a while; it hid the object from the line of sight of other animals and Gus couldn't come for a few more days – he had heard Alice talking on the phone – so it would stay put for now, and it wasn't too far away from the bunker. Speaking of which, he thought guiltily...
He stood up and dashed back to the penguin habitat at top speed. He nudged the food-bowl to one side and quietly slipped inside, sliding the bowl back over. He glanced at his comrades – still sleeping – and crept back into his bunk.
He closed his eyes as he laid down and tried to clear his mind for sleep, finding it almost impossible because his actions were just beginning to sink in. A smile still tugged at the edges of his beak. Tomorrow, he told himself contently, thinking longingly of Skipper. Tomorrow we'll see if there's a happily ever after in store for me with my captain. Eventually he fell asleep, comforted by the knowledge that his crush was only a few inches away.
But tomorrow morning, disappointingly, passed much the same as any other morning. The only difference was that Skipper seemed to think there was something wrong, having caught Private staring at him a couple of times. He also didn't fail to notice Private's poor concentration during that morning's callisthenics.
Near lunchtime, Skipper took him aside, saying he wanted to talk to him about something.
"Private," Skipper started cautiously. He stopped when he saw the tender look Private was giving him.
Private smiled. "Yeah, Skippah?" He prompted hopefully.
"Is everything alright? You seem... different lately."
Private's eyes widened slightly. Was it working? "Different how?"
Suddenly, Skipper stepped closer, scrutinising his face. Private's breath hitched. Their beaks were only half an inch apart.
"I don't know what it is, but..." Skipper stepped back. "Is there something on your mind, Private? Something you need to tell me?"
Private shook his head, willing his captain to make a move...
"Well, alright then." And to Private's extreme disappointment, he turned and walked away.
Private wandered forlornly into the lab, out of view of the others. Did this mean the paw hadn't worked? No, it had done something – he had felt the paw influence the world. He had felt it let loose magical powers. So why hadn't the wish worked?
Private mulled it over for a while. Maybe the twist was that it didn't happen immediately. It might take a week to work. Maybe it would happen when one of them was on their deathbed, and in their last moments together Skipper would realise that he loved him, far too late. Private frowned. What a morbid thought.
Or maybe the power of love far exceeded the power of magic. Perhaps the wish hadn't worked because magic couldn't meddle in affairs of the heart. Remembering Kowalski's old Love-u-lasor, Private wondered sadly if only cold, cruel science could make people fall in love.
It could just take a while to take effect, he told himself optimistically. Maybe tomorrow would be different. He cast his mind back to what Kowalski said about the paw. Did he mention something about time gaps? It took a few hours for the money to arrive, if he remembered correctly. But that time gap was only due to a series of events happening before the lawyer visited. What series of events could influence the heart? None. Private sighed.
Then he gasped as a wonderful thought flashed through his mind – in the happily-ever-after version, the last three had come by themselves!
The monkey hadn't made the last wishes come true. Although the princess had wished for true love, the wish wasn't necessary. What if Skipper had like-liked him anyway and was good at hiding it?
Private's doubtful side tried to trample this idea down – Skipper was never good at hiding emotions; he's never made a move or told you he likes you in all the time you've known him; as far as you know, he's straight – but his optimistic side was growing too strong. Soon he had himself convinced that his first wish hadn't worked because it was already true. It had come by itself, 'as love always does'.
After lunchtime, Private became distracted by the sight of a food stall in the park. He soon cornered Skipper and begged him to let them have snow-cones.
"Please, Skippah," he pleaded again sweetly, flippers clasped. "We haven't had snow-cones in ages..."
"Fine," Skipper finally groaned, wound down by the constant begging which had lasted for almost a half-hour. "We'll get snow-cones when Kowalski and Rico come back from Marlene's. Rainbow scoops, if they have them." He took a swig of coffee.
"Yes!" Private clapped his flippers together a few times in joy. Then he paused as an idea struck him. Time to test the earlier theory.
"Something the matter, Private?" Skipper said, noticing a change in his expression and lowering his mug.
Suddenly Private stepped forward and wrapped his flippers around Skipper's shoulders in a cuddle. "Thanks, Skippah!"
Skipper obviously wasn't expecting this; Private heard his breath hitch and felt him stiffen. But he didn't move away.
After a moment or two, Skipper returned the hug with his one free flipper on Private's lower back, holding the other flipper away from them slightly so that the mug wouldn't get knocked. The gentle pressure Skipper was putting on his back pushed Private's body amazingly close against Skipper's. Private felt Skipper's beak ghost over the feathers on the side of his head, like he wanted to nuzzle him but wasn't sure whether he would be rejected. Private smiled knowingly into Skipper's shoulder.
Then, all hot under the feather and heart beating hyperactively, he broke the contact and hurried away, not glancing back to view Skipper's face. The pressure on his back and the phantom nuzzle had been enough to convince him. He was almost laughing with glee.
Private dug his beak into his double-scoop rainbow cone thoughtfully, wondering whether it was a good idea to try to kiss Skipper.
He was sure that Skipper like-liked him. So sure. But the thought of rejection kept him back. Private didn't think he could take it if he was rejected, and Skipper was so – so Skipper; as in he was such a stickler for law and rules and regulations, and wasn't kissing a subordinate prohibited? Wait, was it? Private couldn't remember. But Skipper would, if it was. He wouldn't want to break any rules for what he thought were weak feelings – even if he really wanted to kiss Private. And wouldn't it be strange, living with him after a kiss? It would be great, but... wouldn't it be awkward? And Private could only imagine how awkward it would be to live with him after he was turned down... if he was turned down... having to look him in the eyes...
But could he? There was a chance that it would all go well. Private would step up to him, maybe, and embrace him like earlier, and then he would tilt his head up and kiss Skipper full on the beak... Oh, so magical in itself. A natural type of magic.
Eyes half-lidded, Private took a long lick of the ice, sneaking a sideways glance at Skipper. He was excited to see him looking back at him – and he was even more excited when he realised that Skipper was staring at his beak, unblinkingly and with a look in his eyes that Private had never seen there before... although Private had never really been noticing the looks Skipper gave him anyway. He could have been giving Private these mysterious looks for a long time.
Was he thinking the same thing, perhaps? Was the desire for a kiss also clouding his mind from sensible thoughts, while fear of being in trouble and wariness of rejection were the only things holding him back? Had he always thought these things, and, like Private used to always be, was he just too unsure to try?
Suddenly Skipper's eyes glanced up and met his for a precious second. Skipper flinched and looked quickly away, as guiltily as if he had been caught doing something reprehensible.
Coincidence? Private thought not. He was now 100% sure that the crush he had on Skipper was mutual.
Private glanced around himself one last time, although by now he was sure he was alone. It was night-time now, just before lights-out. He had decided to make his second wish. Just to hurry things along between him and Skipper; just to give him a bit of confidence. He lifted the paw in his flippers and imagined the pinky curling down, and then going back to the bunker and Skipper kissing him and then...
He lowered his flippers. And then what? What would happen after that? Nothing? Private couldn't bear the thought of Skipper just leaving it there, nothing else happening between them. So at the last moment he changed his mind.
He lifted the paw again and spoke his second wish, influenced by love for his Commanding Officer and the evening air of mating season:
"I wish Skipper would make love to me tonight... and not regret it... and nobody else ever finds out." The smallest digit curled down to join the thumb. The back of the severed hand rippled, and was free from scars.
Immediately Private felt like he had done something incredibly naughty; indeed he had – he had made it so that when he returned, his CO would bed him. He smiled despite his nerves. He could only wonder how his crush would do this... he buried the paw again. This, definitely, would show the power of the monkey's paw, if it really was magical. After all, the first wish might have been coincidentally already true.
And this way, the relationship was sure to continue – right? They couldn't just leave it at that, and go back to normal, especially if Skipper didn't regret it one bit. Right? Besides, Private thought that a kiss would be included in the second wish. Now, they could not only be 'romantic interests', but lovers. Private tingled at the thought.
He knew that he would be the one underneath during the act – Skipper just seemed like a top type of guy. Private didn't mind. Not one bit. Although he was a virgin, he knew he would prefer being on the bottom. He didn't really know how he knew – he just did. Barely believing what he had done, he ran through some scenarios in his mind as he walked slowly back to base, wanting to prolong the amazing moment for as long as possible without being late home.
Perhaps they would watch a movie tonight – maybe Private would insist upon The Monkey's Paw – and when Kowalski and Rico left them alone together, they would kiss and hold each other, and then his captain would lower him down and mount him in the heat of the moment. Or perhaps he would get home, and Skipper would tell Private he wanted to see him in his office... he would go inside and Skipper would tell him to close the door behind him... they would embrace... he would tell Private that he wanted him... then it would happen, suddenly, on the floor of Skipper's office. Maybe Skipper would get out of his bunk in the middle of the night and they'd have hushed sex in Private's bunk, flippers around each other, bringing them close, voices and cries muffled into each other's beaks. Just these thoughts made Private's tail feathers rise appealingly high in anticipation of the act. Even being pressed up against the wall in the showers seemed beyond amazing to Private's state of mind. Cute and naive; his mind echoed the earlier words, so often used to describe him, without shame as he fantasised. Little did the other zoo animals know, beneath the virtuous exterior had always lain something darker, which Private had always suppressed and banished from his mind. Now – whether it was because of the season, or the knowledge that Skipper did like him, or because of some influence the paw was having on him, he didn't know nor care – this darker something was emerging, and he discovered what it was: perverted desire.
There was no room in his mind for caution as he approached home. He just didn't consider there to be any danger of the paw being a curse.
Finally, he was outside the penguin habitat. Heart pounding, he leapt into the pool and swam through the chilling water to the concrete island, pulled himself up and gave himself a little shake to knock off the droplets. But as he took a few steps towards the entrance to the bunker, he found his path blocked.
"Private, what were you doing outside?" Skipper snapped at him. Private blinked. Skipper certainly didn't seem in the mood for anything saucy...
"Just... going for a walk, Skippah," he said with a smile and a bat of the eyelids. "Lights-out isn't for another hour, remember?"
"I remember." Skipper stepped aside to let him through – but when Private tried to walk past him, he was caught around the middle and pulled close.
"Skippah," Private gasped, caught completely by surprise. Already?
But Private's wings were pulled back rather hard and he felt Skipper's body brush roughly up against him. "Shh."
Private blinked again at the short, harsh shush. Something was wrong. "Skippah?" He inquired timidly.
"Shh, shut up!" Skipper hissed, heaving him to the ground where he landed with a painful thud and a wince. "And keep still!"
Private was panicking now – he didn't realise what was going on, hadn't stopped to think about what the paw would do if it was cursed – and he tried to pull away. "Skippah! Stop! What are you – "
"Shut up," came the low reply again. "And keep still." Flippers pinned him to the ground on his stomach and his captain's strength kept him there. He tried to wriggle out from under him, but Private could never throw off a good pin. He was completely at Skipper's mercy.
"No," Private squeaked, finally realising what was happening. "Please, Skippah, no... not like this..."
Skipper reached down and grabbed a fistful of Private's still-erect tail feathers in response, keeping the kid pressed down with the other flipper. "He comes back before bedtime with his tail held high and a stupid smirk on his face... what has the boy been up to, I wonder?" He mocked cruelly, tugging at the feathers, relishing in how Private writhed beneath him.
"Nothing!"
"Oh, really, mister Cute-and-Naive? Then why so ready?"
"I... no! Please!"
Swiftly, he pulled the younger one's body into the perfect position to mate with. He clamped Private's beak shut when he opened it to scream. "Keep your voice down or else! Just take your punishment." Private turned his head to look. Skipper smirked darkly and triumphantly at him. The mysterious look was in his eyes again. Finally, his expression read.
He lowered his own tail over Private's in the instinctive penguin way, and Private just lay helplessly in acceptance, tears of pain and sadness in his eyes and his heart more than a little broken. There was no way to escape, no way to get out of this. He just gave up struggling and allowed it to happen to him, more forcefully, not one bit as romantically, and nowhere near as fun for him as he had fantasised it would be.