Rating: PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity. Lots of insanity.
Feedback: I'd like that, thank you.
Distribution: At the moment, here. If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please. I would also be completely shocked.
Spoilers: Not a single thing.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy. Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you. Thank you.
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to all the people who first got to read this… and had to wait months and months between chapters, on occasion.
Author's Note: Six down, four more to go.
Chapter Six
"What the…" the tall no-longer-human mumbled as he picked up the doll. "Rose! Where are you!"
The librarian entered the room cautiously. "Something isn't right."
"No kidding. And here I was thinking that everything was just ginger peachy with cinnamon red hots on top," the green demon replied snarkily.
"No, I mean the architecture of this room is nonsensical. There should be another twenty to thirty feet behind this back wall," he said matter of factly.
The other two men stared at him.
"How the heck can you tell that?" asked the brown-eyed one in shock.
"It's simply a matter of compensating for the turn of the wall and… oh, never mind. Just trust me on this one."
With a nod, the vampire ran at the opposite wall with all the force of a linebacker, yelling a blood-curdling war whoop. He then proceeded to run directly through the nonexistent wall and, unable to stop, skidded across the concealed room and burst through the outside wall, leaving a vamp-shaped hole punched through the brick, exactly like in the cartoons. Since this happened to be the tallest tower in the castle, he then fell a good three hundred feet into the moat below, landing with a loud splash and a bevy of curses that had never been heard before outside of eighteenth-century Ireland.
By the time the vampire had re-climbed the stairs up to the tower, the green demon and the librarian had already found Black Rose lying on the floor in the hidden chamber, right next to the spinning wheel.
"She's not dead, is she?" he asked with fear in his voice as he dripped moat-water all over the floor.
"You loon! She's a vampire! Of course she's dead!" said the now far-too stressed human.
"She's not about to turn into dust if that's what you mean," said the green demon as he gently patted the other fellow on the back. "Though it looks like you-know-who got to her."
"Voldemort?" asked the vamp dimly.
The Englishman sighed profoundly, but decided against staking him and chalked the inane answer up to the extreme situation.
"So, what do we do now?" asked the swingin' singer.
"Make her comfortable," answered the taller being in a suddenly somber tone. "Could you magic her up a bed or something?"
"Certainly, of course," replied the ex-Watcher. "Let me see, what was that spell again?"
He chanted a few words in an arcane dialect of Greek, or perhaps it was just French spoken with a Brooklyn accent, and a bed suddenly appeared. Unfortunately, instead of the dramatic canopied confection he'd imagined, the puff of sparkly smoke produced a hot pink racecar kiddie bed.
"Well, it's not exactly what I had in mind, but I bet she'll think it's neat," said the green demon as he looked at what the man had come up with.
Gently, the vampire picked up his adopted daughter and put her down on the bed, the tender moment only briefly spoiled as his elbow connected with the little steering wheel's horn. He tucked Windowshade into bed beside her. The three males all stood there, staring at her, hoping they'd be able to see her bright blue eyes open again soon.
"What about the king and queen?" asked the justifiably broody semi-human.
It was about time somebody thought of the royal couple. They'd been sitting in the castle's living room for the last three hours, the candles on the birthday cake for their daughter long since having melted into multi-colored splashes of wax. They'd sunk so low as playing "I Spy" by now, and the king was so nervous, he'd eaten his own weight in Doritos. He'd turned a highly interesting shade of vibrant chartreuse.
"I could perhaps make them sleep until the time Rose wakes up," the librarian suggested. After a moment or two of incantations, the whole palace fell into a deep sleep, except, of course, for the three good beings.
I said, except for the three good beings.
WAKE UP, YOU NITWITS!
Please?
Hello?
Um, wakey-wakey?
Oh, great, they're out cold. Nice work, G-Man. Way to leave it all up to the narrator. I believe a brief pause for a chapter break is in order.
