The Last Stand
By Julie K. ( kossmoe_chan@hotmail.com )
Fanfiction.net name : Perished Hope
Author's Note: Wi nøt trei a høliday in Sweden this yer? See the løveli lakes. The wonderful telephøne system. And mani interesting furry animals. Including the majestic møøse. (From Monty Python and the Holy Grail)
Copyrights: Monsters Inc., still belongs to whoever owns it, whom is sure not me. It might be me, but I certainly don't think so. I bet the majestic møøse knows, but for the time being, I don't. Disney owns it. There I go again, contradicting myself... again, Jigai (Please excuse the 5 million times I call her Jingai, typos kill me but I'm lazy) Delilah, Ravel, Dr. Banes, and Jennifer Banes were created by me and I'd appreciate it if they aren't used without my permission, along with the ideas I incorporated with this story. And there you see the longest run-on sentence in existence. Oh, well.
~*~*~ Previously...
Her thoughts were on a good human-creature dinner when the creature finally materialized in front of her. It was a purple snake-like creature with eight arms, two sets used for walking. It was holding a dead creature-- rabbit, she knew, it was one of the few things she knew about in this human world-- in its first set of arms. It was almost a pastel purple, with hard scales that were so tightly packed together that Jigai wondered how she was going to sink her teeth into this one. Perhaps crack through the scales...She looked at it curiously, wondering what kind of human-creature this was. Finally, something flashed into her mind. Wait. Something about this creature rang a bell.
It wasn't a human-creature... it, too, was a monster!
~*~*~
Chapter 3: The Beginning of a Tale
~*~*~
Sullivan had bandages littering his face, and he sat in a hospital bed. He was rendered unconscious by the pain Jigai had caused him, and the paramedics had brought him over to the hospital to try and treat his wounds. Not much could be done, but they at least disinfected them and bandaged them up. The only thing that could be done was to sit around and wait to see if he got better. An optic specialist was to come in the next day to examine his eye, to make sure no damage had been done to it directly.
Sullivan's eyes flickered open, and the rush of pain flooded his consciousness immediately. He groaned a bit and looked up at the ceiling. It was a shiny white color and reflected his colors. He felt the freezing cold of the hospital beds, and sighed.
"Sully, buddy. You're awake." Sullivan looked over to his right to see Mike Wazowski sitting in a white chair next to his hospital bed. The table next to Mike was littered with random "Get well" cards from people from the company, as well as some edible treats as well. Sullivan sighed and closed his eyes, wishing he could make the pain just simply blow away.
"Sully? You okay?" Mike asked, leaning forwards a bit. Sullivan looked over at Mike again, and Mike could see the pain in his eyes. He was instantly shushed by the strange look. He'd never seen that look in his eyes...since that one day they had been banished to the arctic and he missed Boo with all his existence. Mike was saddened, but it was hard to douse his light, humorous spirit. He had a knack for cheering people up, and he hoped it would work with Sullivan...
"Yeah." Sullivan said with a lot of effort placed into it. His voice was almost cracking. "Yeah, I'm okay." He saw the look of worry that was in Mike's eye, but there was something else there, too. Pity. He didn't want Mike to pity him. He could worry, if he desired, but he didn't want him to feel pity.
"How about you hand me some of those cards," Sullivan said, trying to seem perky. Mike gave him a look of suspicion like he had caught up with his plan, but he didn't refuse his best friend's wish. He grabbed a handful of the "Get Well" cards and handed them gently to Sullivan.
"Well, something good is that you're at least being covered on Laugh floor A. Filled in by some monster named Ravel Thwin. He's pretty good at his job, though he talks about how he wished the Scare floors were back. I've been thinking about his proposal to making extra floors for those who still have their heart in scaring. What do you say?" Mike said, trying to report as much as he could in one breath. Sullivan considered the idea for a moment, but came to a verdict quickly.
"No. No, I don't think so. Ever since I met Boo, I realized that scaring was wrong, basically. Children aren't even toxic--they made that up to keep us thinking scaring wasn't wrong--thinking they deserved it for trying to hurt us. If you think about it, it begins to make sense," Sullivan explained. "Did you ever notice that no one ever actually got hurt when they came in contact with child-infected things?"
"Yeah," Mike said, considering.
"Who's this Ravel character, anyways? I don't think I've heard of him. How'd he climb up the anarchy anyways?" Sullivan asked, lightly rubbing the bandages on his face, but his hand shook badly from the pain of even touching it. He withdrew his hand in defeat and laid it down beside him. Mike paused a moment to think on how he'd reply.
"Well, y'see, I haven't heard of him either. He just seemed to appear out of nowhere. In some weird way, he reminds me of Randall, and that's something I don't want to be reminded about. He looks more like a scarer then a comedian anyways." Mike said, sighing.
"I'll have to meet him someday." Sullivan sniffled and remembered his bandages and the pain surged back to his mind. "That is, if I ever get out of this hospital."
"Eh, you will big guy. You will." Mike said, a strained smile on his face. Sullivan looked at that and felt comforted. He could at least rest knowing someone was filling in for him...but something in the back of his mind told him that he should be concerned. He felt it within, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was...
He hardly heard Mike saying goodbye as the nurses flooded in, telling him that visiting hours were over. He heard Mike saying that he was his best friend, and he had a right to see him, but the nurses didn't seem to care. His weary eyes watched as Mike was pushed farther and farther back, until he just gave up and walked away, heading back to the factory to hopefully keep his mind off of Sullivan.
~*~*~
Ravel Thwin's eyes moved around suspiciously, sweeping from one end of the Laugh floor to the other. His scarlet wings were folded tightly against his back, and his limbs were steady and un-moving. He was a tiger-dragon monster--one that could walk on four legs or two at will. His body was whiter then the palest face and had black tiger stripes on it(it was slightly furry, but more like peach fuzz then actually fur), and he had eyes of silver-violet. His cat-like claws were black, and his gray horns (they protruded outwards as opposed to curling around for the sake of him being able to ram into someone with them) were more of a metallic gray- silver then dull gray.
His eyes were narrowed as he watched his target slowly move down the aisle to his position. His target couldn't see him--he was hidden behind a rack of laugh containers. Though he couldn't camouflage or turn invisible, he could still not be seen when he wished to be. The target moved closer, and all of the muscles in Ravel's body tightened up.
Three...Two...One...
"HEY WAZOWSKI!" Ravel shouted, jumping in front of the green, one-eyed monster. Mike recoiled in a lack of breath, and fell backwards in surprise. It took him a moment or two to get his sanity back, and he was irritated a little more then amused.
"What the? Ravel! What the heck are you doing?" He asked, his one eye narrowing in pure annoyance.
"Simple." Ravel smirked, clicking his black claws against the tile floor. "Roz sent me. You forgot to file your paperwork, again! Not that this is new--but she wanted me to sent you to her. Heh, heh." Ravel smirked again, amused by his own surprise method. Mike didn't look in the least amused, but he understood that Ravel was a little more immature then most monsters, though he got the job done.
"Why don't you just tell me like normal monsters do, and stop wasting valuable laugh-time with your silly, immature jokes!" Mike hissed back. Ravel made a fake pouting face.
"Aww, Wazowski. What in the world happened to your sense of humor?" He asked, rearing back onto his back legs. Mike looked at him curiously, trying to decide if he was being serious and naive, or if he was just taunting him.
"You try and be happy and normal when you're worried sick about your best friend--who was brutally attacked by a mad murder!" Mike sighed, and looked away slightly. He wasn't in the mood for Ravel's tricks, nor was he in the mood for Roz's lectures on how he needed to learn to turn in his paperwork. In fact, he didn't even want to be here, he just wanted to be at home where he could mope all he wanted without getting sidetracked. He had though that being at the factory could help him forget for a couple of precious moments, but all it did was make his pain worse.
"Don't worry about him. He'll deal. He's a strong monster. Now hurry, before Roz skins me for holding you up." Ravel gave Mike a look of distaste.
"Eh. You'd make a nice carpet," Mike said, and Ravel wasn't too sure if he was complimenting his pelt or poking fun at his previous statement. Yet, as he thought about it, it didn't quite matter. Ravel flapped his wings, sending a current of air, which made Mike move a bit from its power.
"Now, hurry up you procrastinator! It's your fault that I can't do any of them laughing things right now, you and your paperwork," Ravel said, notably saying 'laughing things' with much distaste. As Mike began to walk off (obviously not in any hurry to see Roz, he was going pretty slowly) a thought came to Ravel's mind. As Mike moved farther away, Ravel went on all fours to catch up to him, then briefly went back to his hind legs when he caught up with him.
"Hey, Wazowski... Did you ask Sullivan about what I said?" He asked. Mike turned around and looked at him, like he was going to answer his own question. He then remembered Sullivan's answer.
"Sorry, buddy, but Sully refused the idea. He said something about how children don't deserve to be scared." Mike paused for an answer, but none seemed to come from the dragon-tiger monster. In fact, Ravel looked slightly surprised, like none of his ideas had ever been rejected before. Mike was amused by Ravel's stunned silence, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to enjoy it to its fullest. He knew Roz, she was "always watching" him. It creped him out, and he didn't want any more attention from Roz then he needed to get.
"Anyways...I'm gonna go file that paperwork now, I guess...urk...stupid paperwork..." Mike said, and continued to walk to the front desk. Ravel stood there, his wings tight against his back, still in the stunned silence. His violet-silver eyes were cold and empty.
"Sir? Are you okay?" Asked a random monster associate who had noticed the state of mind that Ravel had been in.
"Yes, do I not look okay to you?" Ravel snapped back, and then began to pump his wings. The Associate nodded feebly and went back to his own business. Ravel smirked and began to lift off from the ground. He beat his wings evenly as he flew across the Laugh floor to the balcony above it. There, he walked a bit until he was in a tunnel-like thing that was on the side of the wall in the Laugh Floor A. He faced a blank wall, but he was smiling eerily. He continued to walk, about to run into the wall.
That is, until he passed right through it.
~*~*~
Dr. Alan Joseph Banes tapped his pencil on the pad of paper he held in his hand. It was blank; he had just bought it from The Shop around noon the previous day. It was a half-price day, and he was constantly filling up his notebooks. Since they were only fifty cents that day, he had bought ten new notebooks to add to the collection he was collecting in the containers under his bed. The one he planned to use now had a blue cover, a Visine 100- Page notebook.
Dr. Banes always had an outstanding memory, but something always seemed to cling to him. He was always jumpy and nervous in dark places, and he lived in a room with no closet. Dr. Banes, though he was a doctor of Psychology, knew a truth that no one else could remember, since it would have happened so long ago. Normally, the incident was erased soon after as television and video games and peer pressure came into play, but not for Dr. Banes. No, he would always remember.
"It was a cold and lonely night," The 35-year old professor would start, to anyone who was willing enough to listen. Most people would listen only to mock him thereafter, but Dr. Banes never seemed to care. He totally believed his own story, and he was desperate to get others to believe it, too.
"The drapes were drawn, but the wind still blew with the ferocity of a tiger. Shadows were playing their games on the walls, until they had turned to watch. The closet door creaked...and a creature stepped out from behind it."
At this point, most people disregarded the professor as crazy or delirious. A couple, however, asked him what this 'creature' looked like. Dr. Banes would adjust his glasses and begin the description.
"Large...it reminded me of a spider with two bulky arms. All I can truly remember is those eyes...so many eyes, yellow and staring at me... when it jumped and roared at me. I screamed, and it seemed satisfied, backing out of my room and shutting the door behind it. That's all I remember..."
The door to Dr. Banes' room creaked open, and he looked up from his notebook at the person who just entered.
She was about 5' 4'', with brownish-red hair. She was wearing a dark blue shirt and tight medium blue jeans. Her eyes were purple-ish, and her complexion was fair. Dr. Banes smiled--it was his only daughter, Jennifer Banes. The child was 13 years old, and her eyes were soft and knowledgeable. She didn't believe that her father told the truth...she believed that he was making up this whole thing about monsters. She had never seen a monster, nor would she ever.
In fact, she hated it when her father told his stories about the spider- monster. She had heard it many times and knew it by heart--but she never believed a word of it.
"Hey dad... I was wondering if I could borrow some money to see a movie with my friends. Jan's mom is driving us," Jennifer asked. Dr. Banes considered it-- Jennifer wasn't the kind to be going out often. She usually just sat on her bed most of the time, drawing her little creatures. She had a cat named Neko-sama, which Jennifer had told him meant "cat" in Japanese. He was proud of his girl, and happy to for fill her few wishes.
"Sure. How much do you think you'll need?" Dr. Banes asked her. Jennifer said that she'd need about ten dollars, five for the ticket and five for concession money. He pulled out his wallet and took out a ten, then handed it to her. Jennifer smiled, said her thanks, and began to walk out the door. Dr. Banes resumed tapping his pencil against the notepad when Jennifer looked over again.
"Dad...you're still trying to prove that monsters are real?" She asked skeptically. Her once true wish would be her dad would stop lying to her about the monsters, and she longed for the day he would say he wasn't trying to prove it anymore, and that it was all a simple joke. That day never seemed to come, but she still hoped with all her heart. Her friends always gave her strange looks because of her father's opinions, though she was straight out to say she didn't follow them. Everyone always just seemed to believe the old saying "The apple never falls far from the tree."
Jennifer didn't have a mother; she had died in a car crash seven years ago. Her mother had been Dr. Bane's second wife, since his first wife died in a car crash as well seven years ago. People often said that Dr. Banes was jinxed to always loose someone every seven years. He was jumpy now, since it had been seven years since his wife died. He was over-protective of Jennifer, but he knew when he just had to let go.
"Yes, darling, I am," Dr. Banes said, and yet again, Jennifer was crushed by her father's beliefs. She closed the door behind her, and headed towards the front door. Monsters aren't real. They are just something that people talk about in myths, stories and legends to scare little kids into behaving. She knew that her father couldn't have seen a monster. Maybe he was hallucinating--or dreaming. It was in the middle of the night. Monsters just couldn't exist.
Or could they?
~*~*~
Jigai crouched down, still in her invisible spell. How on earth did another monster get here? Hmm...maybe she was wrong. Maybe this wasn't another monster. Its possible that one of the human-creatures that existed in this world may look like a monster she had seen before. She studied the creature again. She hadn't heard that any animals from the human world had four pairs of legs, but she may be wrong. After all, she wasn't an expert on human-creatures.
The purple creature looked around briefly, its expression changing slightly. It looked down at the rabbit with a look of disgust, but she figured the creature didn't have a choice. She hadn't heard of animals actually being choosy over their food--maybe this was a type of human. No, that was silly, humans looked like two-legged creatures with arms they don't use for walking. Nothing like this...
She remembered that someone once told her that no creature in the human- world, except for the humans themselves, could actually talk and understand language. Most of the human-creatures could only make indistinctable noises from deep in their throat, or just make noises with no particular meaning to them. (Though she noted that a bunch of humans do that often as well.) She thought it was a good test for this creature. If it wasn't actually a monster, it could make a nice meal...
Still invisible, she began to speak to the purple creature.
"If you are a monster and not a human-creature, speak now." It was a preliminary request, but it suits the job. Jigai watched as the creature turned around, bewildered and a bit frustrated, looking around for the source of the disembodied voice.
"What the...?"
"So you are a monster," Jigai said, materializing a couple of feet away from the other monster. The other monster whirled around; satisfied that he could finally see the place that the voice had come from. Jigai was instantly taken aback from his rude comment.
"What did you think I was? A human?" He growled, giving the other monster a flat look. Jigai sneered at his rude reply. She was a criminal, all right, but she really disliked it when people gave her smart-talk when she just barely met them. It was always a good way to go towards the violent Jigai, to the least. There were basically two personalities to Jigai Shoshitsu-- the violent one, and the one that was calm and understanding. The violent Jigai often pushed above the consciousness of the calm one, whenever something occurred that displeased her. That's when she got mean.
Jigai's claws unsheathed, and the other monster's eyes instantly looked to them with caution.
"I didn't ask for your smart-mouth remarks, Monster. I asked to find out if you were of my species, or if you weren't. That's all," Jigai sneered. Her clawed fingers flexed, and the claws glistened in the early-day moonlight. The sun was just beginning to rise.
"Yeah, whatever..." He smirked. "Stop calling me 'Monster,' too, I have a name. It's Randall Boggs, so use it." Jigai studied him to see if he was even worth giving some of her respect. He certainly didn't sound much like someone who deserved respect, but she knew that sometimes people had bad first impressions. She, herself, hated first impressions, so she wasn't going to take this Randall Boggs too seriously.
"Indeed, Randall Boggs. I am Jigai Shoshitsu-- you are to call me by my name as well, to return the favor." She gave him a fierce look which basically said 'And if you don't, you're seriously screwed.'
"Right--Jigai-- Why are you here? I bet that furry cretin and his associates destroyed the door that I came through, but I doubt there are many other doors around here," Randall smirked a bit, then added, "I was banished for evil plots...heh heh...and trying to kill James Sullivan." Randall looked like he was victorious, when Jigai snort-laughed.
"Really? I was banished for intentional mass-murder." Jigai was amused by the shocked look on Randall's face. She smirked, and then added her own spice to her reason. "And, of course, the small token of basically cutting Sullivan's face up."
Randall stood in silence, shocked considerably. It took him a couple of moments to really realize what was going on here-- he had been banished to the same swamp as a convicted murder! 'This...isn't gonna end well...' Jigai looked at Randall with her eyes filled with bloodlust and sadism. Her claws shined visibly in the dull light, and Randall realized this might be his last moment to live.
-----------
Author's Note: Talk about a total cliffhanger! XD I shall leave you in suspense until the next chapter! YAY! We're building up some plot here =^^=
Author's Note: Wi nøt trei a høliday in Sweden this yer? See the løveli lakes. The wonderful telephøne system. And mani interesting furry animals. Including the majestic møøse. (From Monty Python and the Holy Grail)
Copyrights: Monsters Inc., still belongs to whoever owns it, whom is sure not me. It might be me, but I certainly don't think so. I bet the majestic møøse knows, but for the time being, I don't. Disney owns it. There I go again, contradicting myself... again, Jigai (Please excuse the 5 million times I call her Jingai, typos kill me but I'm lazy) Delilah, Ravel, Dr. Banes, and Jennifer Banes were created by me and I'd appreciate it if they aren't used without my permission, along with the ideas I incorporated with this story. And there you see the longest run-on sentence in existence. Oh, well.
~*~*~ Previously...
Her thoughts were on a good human-creature dinner when the creature finally materialized in front of her. It was a purple snake-like creature with eight arms, two sets used for walking. It was holding a dead creature-- rabbit, she knew, it was one of the few things she knew about in this human world-- in its first set of arms. It was almost a pastel purple, with hard scales that were so tightly packed together that Jigai wondered how she was going to sink her teeth into this one. Perhaps crack through the scales...She looked at it curiously, wondering what kind of human-creature this was. Finally, something flashed into her mind. Wait. Something about this creature rang a bell.
It wasn't a human-creature... it, too, was a monster!
~*~*~
Chapter 3: The Beginning of a Tale
~*~*~
Sullivan had bandages littering his face, and he sat in a hospital bed. He was rendered unconscious by the pain Jigai had caused him, and the paramedics had brought him over to the hospital to try and treat his wounds. Not much could be done, but they at least disinfected them and bandaged them up. The only thing that could be done was to sit around and wait to see if he got better. An optic specialist was to come in the next day to examine his eye, to make sure no damage had been done to it directly.
Sullivan's eyes flickered open, and the rush of pain flooded his consciousness immediately. He groaned a bit and looked up at the ceiling. It was a shiny white color and reflected his colors. He felt the freezing cold of the hospital beds, and sighed.
"Sully, buddy. You're awake." Sullivan looked over to his right to see Mike Wazowski sitting in a white chair next to his hospital bed. The table next to Mike was littered with random "Get well" cards from people from the company, as well as some edible treats as well. Sullivan sighed and closed his eyes, wishing he could make the pain just simply blow away.
"Sully? You okay?" Mike asked, leaning forwards a bit. Sullivan looked over at Mike again, and Mike could see the pain in his eyes. He was instantly shushed by the strange look. He'd never seen that look in his eyes...since that one day they had been banished to the arctic and he missed Boo with all his existence. Mike was saddened, but it was hard to douse his light, humorous spirit. He had a knack for cheering people up, and he hoped it would work with Sullivan...
"Yeah." Sullivan said with a lot of effort placed into it. His voice was almost cracking. "Yeah, I'm okay." He saw the look of worry that was in Mike's eye, but there was something else there, too. Pity. He didn't want Mike to pity him. He could worry, if he desired, but he didn't want him to feel pity.
"How about you hand me some of those cards," Sullivan said, trying to seem perky. Mike gave him a look of suspicion like he had caught up with his plan, but he didn't refuse his best friend's wish. He grabbed a handful of the "Get Well" cards and handed them gently to Sullivan.
"Well, something good is that you're at least being covered on Laugh floor A. Filled in by some monster named Ravel Thwin. He's pretty good at his job, though he talks about how he wished the Scare floors were back. I've been thinking about his proposal to making extra floors for those who still have their heart in scaring. What do you say?" Mike said, trying to report as much as he could in one breath. Sullivan considered the idea for a moment, but came to a verdict quickly.
"No. No, I don't think so. Ever since I met Boo, I realized that scaring was wrong, basically. Children aren't even toxic--they made that up to keep us thinking scaring wasn't wrong--thinking they deserved it for trying to hurt us. If you think about it, it begins to make sense," Sullivan explained. "Did you ever notice that no one ever actually got hurt when they came in contact with child-infected things?"
"Yeah," Mike said, considering.
"Who's this Ravel character, anyways? I don't think I've heard of him. How'd he climb up the anarchy anyways?" Sullivan asked, lightly rubbing the bandages on his face, but his hand shook badly from the pain of even touching it. He withdrew his hand in defeat and laid it down beside him. Mike paused a moment to think on how he'd reply.
"Well, y'see, I haven't heard of him either. He just seemed to appear out of nowhere. In some weird way, he reminds me of Randall, and that's something I don't want to be reminded about. He looks more like a scarer then a comedian anyways." Mike said, sighing.
"I'll have to meet him someday." Sullivan sniffled and remembered his bandages and the pain surged back to his mind. "That is, if I ever get out of this hospital."
"Eh, you will big guy. You will." Mike said, a strained smile on his face. Sullivan looked at that and felt comforted. He could at least rest knowing someone was filling in for him...but something in the back of his mind told him that he should be concerned. He felt it within, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was...
He hardly heard Mike saying goodbye as the nurses flooded in, telling him that visiting hours were over. He heard Mike saying that he was his best friend, and he had a right to see him, but the nurses didn't seem to care. His weary eyes watched as Mike was pushed farther and farther back, until he just gave up and walked away, heading back to the factory to hopefully keep his mind off of Sullivan.
~*~*~
Ravel Thwin's eyes moved around suspiciously, sweeping from one end of the Laugh floor to the other. His scarlet wings were folded tightly against his back, and his limbs were steady and un-moving. He was a tiger-dragon monster--one that could walk on four legs or two at will. His body was whiter then the palest face and had black tiger stripes on it(it was slightly furry, but more like peach fuzz then actually fur), and he had eyes of silver-violet. His cat-like claws were black, and his gray horns (they protruded outwards as opposed to curling around for the sake of him being able to ram into someone with them) were more of a metallic gray- silver then dull gray.
His eyes were narrowed as he watched his target slowly move down the aisle to his position. His target couldn't see him--he was hidden behind a rack of laugh containers. Though he couldn't camouflage or turn invisible, he could still not be seen when he wished to be. The target moved closer, and all of the muscles in Ravel's body tightened up.
Three...Two...One...
"HEY WAZOWSKI!" Ravel shouted, jumping in front of the green, one-eyed monster. Mike recoiled in a lack of breath, and fell backwards in surprise. It took him a moment or two to get his sanity back, and he was irritated a little more then amused.
"What the? Ravel! What the heck are you doing?" He asked, his one eye narrowing in pure annoyance.
"Simple." Ravel smirked, clicking his black claws against the tile floor. "Roz sent me. You forgot to file your paperwork, again! Not that this is new--but she wanted me to sent you to her. Heh, heh." Ravel smirked again, amused by his own surprise method. Mike didn't look in the least amused, but he understood that Ravel was a little more immature then most monsters, though he got the job done.
"Why don't you just tell me like normal monsters do, and stop wasting valuable laugh-time with your silly, immature jokes!" Mike hissed back. Ravel made a fake pouting face.
"Aww, Wazowski. What in the world happened to your sense of humor?" He asked, rearing back onto his back legs. Mike looked at him curiously, trying to decide if he was being serious and naive, or if he was just taunting him.
"You try and be happy and normal when you're worried sick about your best friend--who was brutally attacked by a mad murder!" Mike sighed, and looked away slightly. He wasn't in the mood for Ravel's tricks, nor was he in the mood for Roz's lectures on how he needed to learn to turn in his paperwork. In fact, he didn't even want to be here, he just wanted to be at home where he could mope all he wanted without getting sidetracked. He had though that being at the factory could help him forget for a couple of precious moments, but all it did was make his pain worse.
"Don't worry about him. He'll deal. He's a strong monster. Now hurry, before Roz skins me for holding you up." Ravel gave Mike a look of distaste.
"Eh. You'd make a nice carpet," Mike said, and Ravel wasn't too sure if he was complimenting his pelt or poking fun at his previous statement. Yet, as he thought about it, it didn't quite matter. Ravel flapped his wings, sending a current of air, which made Mike move a bit from its power.
"Now, hurry up you procrastinator! It's your fault that I can't do any of them laughing things right now, you and your paperwork," Ravel said, notably saying 'laughing things' with much distaste. As Mike began to walk off (obviously not in any hurry to see Roz, he was going pretty slowly) a thought came to Ravel's mind. As Mike moved farther away, Ravel went on all fours to catch up to him, then briefly went back to his hind legs when he caught up with him.
"Hey, Wazowski... Did you ask Sullivan about what I said?" He asked. Mike turned around and looked at him, like he was going to answer his own question. He then remembered Sullivan's answer.
"Sorry, buddy, but Sully refused the idea. He said something about how children don't deserve to be scared." Mike paused for an answer, but none seemed to come from the dragon-tiger monster. In fact, Ravel looked slightly surprised, like none of his ideas had ever been rejected before. Mike was amused by Ravel's stunned silence, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to enjoy it to its fullest. He knew Roz, she was "always watching" him. It creped him out, and he didn't want any more attention from Roz then he needed to get.
"Anyways...I'm gonna go file that paperwork now, I guess...urk...stupid paperwork..." Mike said, and continued to walk to the front desk. Ravel stood there, his wings tight against his back, still in the stunned silence. His violet-silver eyes were cold and empty.
"Sir? Are you okay?" Asked a random monster associate who had noticed the state of mind that Ravel had been in.
"Yes, do I not look okay to you?" Ravel snapped back, and then began to pump his wings. The Associate nodded feebly and went back to his own business. Ravel smirked and began to lift off from the ground. He beat his wings evenly as he flew across the Laugh floor to the balcony above it. There, he walked a bit until he was in a tunnel-like thing that was on the side of the wall in the Laugh Floor A. He faced a blank wall, but he was smiling eerily. He continued to walk, about to run into the wall.
That is, until he passed right through it.
~*~*~
Dr. Alan Joseph Banes tapped his pencil on the pad of paper he held in his hand. It was blank; he had just bought it from The Shop around noon the previous day. It was a half-price day, and he was constantly filling up his notebooks. Since they were only fifty cents that day, he had bought ten new notebooks to add to the collection he was collecting in the containers under his bed. The one he planned to use now had a blue cover, a Visine 100- Page notebook.
Dr. Banes always had an outstanding memory, but something always seemed to cling to him. He was always jumpy and nervous in dark places, and he lived in a room with no closet. Dr. Banes, though he was a doctor of Psychology, knew a truth that no one else could remember, since it would have happened so long ago. Normally, the incident was erased soon after as television and video games and peer pressure came into play, but not for Dr. Banes. No, he would always remember.
"It was a cold and lonely night," The 35-year old professor would start, to anyone who was willing enough to listen. Most people would listen only to mock him thereafter, but Dr. Banes never seemed to care. He totally believed his own story, and he was desperate to get others to believe it, too.
"The drapes were drawn, but the wind still blew with the ferocity of a tiger. Shadows were playing their games on the walls, until they had turned to watch. The closet door creaked...and a creature stepped out from behind it."
At this point, most people disregarded the professor as crazy or delirious. A couple, however, asked him what this 'creature' looked like. Dr. Banes would adjust his glasses and begin the description.
"Large...it reminded me of a spider with two bulky arms. All I can truly remember is those eyes...so many eyes, yellow and staring at me... when it jumped and roared at me. I screamed, and it seemed satisfied, backing out of my room and shutting the door behind it. That's all I remember..."
The door to Dr. Banes' room creaked open, and he looked up from his notebook at the person who just entered.
She was about 5' 4'', with brownish-red hair. She was wearing a dark blue shirt and tight medium blue jeans. Her eyes were purple-ish, and her complexion was fair. Dr. Banes smiled--it was his only daughter, Jennifer Banes. The child was 13 years old, and her eyes were soft and knowledgeable. She didn't believe that her father told the truth...she believed that he was making up this whole thing about monsters. She had never seen a monster, nor would she ever.
In fact, she hated it when her father told his stories about the spider- monster. She had heard it many times and knew it by heart--but she never believed a word of it.
"Hey dad... I was wondering if I could borrow some money to see a movie with my friends. Jan's mom is driving us," Jennifer asked. Dr. Banes considered it-- Jennifer wasn't the kind to be going out often. She usually just sat on her bed most of the time, drawing her little creatures. She had a cat named Neko-sama, which Jennifer had told him meant "cat" in Japanese. He was proud of his girl, and happy to for fill her few wishes.
"Sure. How much do you think you'll need?" Dr. Banes asked her. Jennifer said that she'd need about ten dollars, five for the ticket and five for concession money. He pulled out his wallet and took out a ten, then handed it to her. Jennifer smiled, said her thanks, and began to walk out the door. Dr. Banes resumed tapping his pencil against the notepad when Jennifer looked over again.
"Dad...you're still trying to prove that monsters are real?" She asked skeptically. Her once true wish would be her dad would stop lying to her about the monsters, and she longed for the day he would say he wasn't trying to prove it anymore, and that it was all a simple joke. That day never seemed to come, but she still hoped with all her heart. Her friends always gave her strange looks because of her father's opinions, though she was straight out to say she didn't follow them. Everyone always just seemed to believe the old saying "The apple never falls far from the tree."
Jennifer didn't have a mother; she had died in a car crash seven years ago. Her mother had been Dr. Bane's second wife, since his first wife died in a car crash as well seven years ago. People often said that Dr. Banes was jinxed to always loose someone every seven years. He was jumpy now, since it had been seven years since his wife died. He was over-protective of Jennifer, but he knew when he just had to let go.
"Yes, darling, I am," Dr. Banes said, and yet again, Jennifer was crushed by her father's beliefs. She closed the door behind her, and headed towards the front door. Monsters aren't real. They are just something that people talk about in myths, stories and legends to scare little kids into behaving. She knew that her father couldn't have seen a monster. Maybe he was hallucinating--or dreaming. It was in the middle of the night. Monsters just couldn't exist.
Or could they?
~*~*~
Jigai crouched down, still in her invisible spell. How on earth did another monster get here? Hmm...maybe she was wrong. Maybe this wasn't another monster. Its possible that one of the human-creatures that existed in this world may look like a monster she had seen before. She studied the creature again. She hadn't heard that any animals from the human world had four pairs of legs, but she may be wrong. After all, she wasn't an expert on human-creatures.
The purple creature looked around briefly, its expression changing slightly. It looked down at the rabbit with a look of disgust, but she figured the creature didn't have a choice. She hadn't heard of animals actually being choosy over their food--maybe this was a type of human. No, that was silly, humans looked like two-legged creatures with arms they don't use for walking. Nothing like this...
She remembered that someone once told her that no creature in the human- world, except for the humans themselves, could actually talk and understand language. Most of the human-creatures could only make indistinctable noises from deep in their throat, or just make noises with no particular meaning to them. (Though she noted that a bunch of humans do that often as well.) She thought it was a good test for this creature. If it wasn't actually a monster, it could make a nice meal...
Still invisible, she began to speak to the purple creature.
"If you are a monster and not a human-creature, speak now." It was a preliminary request, but it suits the job. Jigai watched as the creature turned around, bewildered and a bit frustrated, looking around for the source of the disembodied voice.
"What the...?"
"So you are a monster," Jigai said, materializing a couple of feet away from the other monster. The other monster whirled around; satisfied that he could finally see the place that the voice had come from. Jigai was instantly taken aback from his rude comment.
"What did you think I was? A human?" He growled, giving the other monster a flat look. Jigai sneered at his rude reply. She was a criminal, all right, but she really disliked it when people gave her smart-talk when she just barely met them. It was always a good way to go towards the violent Jigai, to the least. There were basically two personalities to Jigai Shoshitsu-- the violent one, and the one that was calm and understanding. The violent Jigai often pushed above the consciousness of the calm one, whenever something occurred that displeased her. That's when she got mean.
Jigai's claws unsheathed, and the other monster's eyes instantly looked to them with caution.
"I didn't ask for your smart-mouth remarks, Monster. I asked to find out if you were of my species, or if you weren't. That's all," Jigai sneered. Her clawed fingers flexed, and the claws glistened in the early-day moonlight. The sun was just beginning to rise.
"Yeah, whatever..." He smirked. "Stop calling me 'Monster,' too, I have a name. It's Randall Boggs, so use it." Jigai studied him to see if he was even worth giving some of her respect. He certainly didn't sound much like someone who deserved respect, but she knew that sometimes people had bad first impressions. She, herself, hated first impressions, so she wasn't going to take this Randall Boggs too seriously.
"Indeed, Randall Boggs. I am Jigai Shoshitsu-- you are to call me by my name as well, to return the favor." She gave him a fierce look which basically said 'And if you don't, you're seriously screwed.'
"Right--Jigai-- Why are you here? I bet that furry cretin and his associates destroyed the door that I came through, but I doubt there are many other doors around here," Randall smirked a bit, then added, "I was banished for evil plots...heh heh...and trying to kill James Sullivan." Randall looked like he was victorious, when Jigai snort-laughed.
"Really? I was banished for intentional mass-murder." Jigai was amused by the shocked look on Randall's face. She smirked, and then added her own spice to her reason. "And, of course, the small token of basically cutting Sullivan's face up."
Randall stood in silence, shocked considerably. It took him a couple of moments to really realize what was going on here-- he had been banished to the same swamp as a convicted murder! 'This...isn't gonna end well...' Jigai looked at Randall with her eyes filled with bloodlust and sadism. Her claws shined visibly in the dull light, and Randall realized this might be his last moment to live.
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Author's Note: Talk about a total cliffhanger! XD I shall leave you in suspense until the next chapter! YAY! We're building up some plot here =^^=