Sorry about the wait, people! It's just with Christmas and all of those stupid Mock SATS I've been very busy and haven't had the time to do any writing, which is also the explanation for why this chapter isn't as long as some others. Anyway, I've managed to do this chappy, though I don't think I'll be able to keep up posting chapters every two weeks, though I'll try. So, read and enjoy, and any nitpicks are welcomed!
Chapter 8- Not So Happy Memories
The words "Monstropolis News" danced across the TV screen and the day's main headlines were highlighted by Montgomery, the local news-caster. The general headlines did nothing to interest Randall- he didn't much care for how well the local schools were doing or that the new shop down the road that specialized in cheese had been open for a week- but when the words "Monsters, Incorporated" were mentioned in a stately voice, his fronds pricked up in attention.
A small box in the corner of the screen that had been showing clips related to the news grew larger until it filled the whole picture. Now showing a shocking clip of what had happened the months ago when something devastating had occurred in the well-known company's walls, Montgomery continued reading his sheets.
"Just four months ago, the scene at Monsters, Incorporated was truly a sight to behold. The building was up in flames and many employees of the company injured, though, luckily, there had been no fatalities. And the terrible news that the humans had been trying to invade shocked the nation." Randall leaned closer to the television, amazed by what he was hearing. "Many wondered whether Monsters, Inc. or, indeed, the world would ever be able to recover. But, fortunately the CEO of one of the country's biggest laugh companies had a positive and determined attitude to the damage caused." The clip now changed to one of the present day Monsters, Inc.- certainly better than before, but still in tatters. The camera, before looking up at the large dramatic entrance, now panned down, putting the CEO mentioned, along with a news reporter, into the picture. He was smiling nervously at the young woman before him, and as she squeezed a tentacle around the mike that one of the runners was holding, he put his hands behind his back and tried to look professional.
"What you see now is the current scene at Monsters, Incorporated. The company has been making slow progress, and to comment on this disappointment is the current CEO, James Sullivan." The monster turned up and towards Sulley, who had been put off immensely by what Miss Morrison (he had only just been able to read her name-tag) had just said.
"I wouldn't say that the progress was disappointing, as such," he began nervously, building up his confidence as he went along. He knew that this interview was important to the company's future, and this pressure was certainly taking its toll on him- he stuttered and faltered many a time. "Though it could be going a little better-" He was cut off.
"So how would you describe it?" Miss Morrison asked in a way that seemed as though she was almost demanding an answer.
"S-something that'll improve with time, I guess-"
"Time is certainly something that Monsters, Inc. is short of, though, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, but if we had a little more help-"
"Of course, with this threat of a human invasion, I doubt many will be willing to help, especially if it entails risking their own lives." For the first time in the interview, Sulley was defiant.
"There is no threat! It was a false alarm!"
"And a false alarm creates such damage as this, does it?" Miss Morrison waved a tentacle behind her, pointing out the half-collapsed building. "I think we can all agree that what happened those four months ago was indeed an attempt at human invasion, and this shocking statement may mean a complete shut-down of all companies that collect laughter in the entire world."
"But-" Miss Morrison turned away from Sullivan, now addressing the camera.
"All comedians are risking their very existence, and are advised to terminate their contracts immediately, for their own safety."
"Advised by who!" She ignored this huffily.
"It seems, to me and to many monsters in this country, that the sad events leading up to the 23rd of February and following it are signifying the end of an era. New ways to create the power we have been harvesting for centuries are being investigated, but none have been successful as yet." Sulley had now given up, instead opting to glare at the bossy news reporter. "I am Samantha Morrison, and this is Monstropolis News. Back to the studio."
"And that was the scene today, at Monsters, Incorporated. Now, it looks like cheese is the new must-have food accessory…" Randall stopped listening, sitting back in his chair and staring at the TV screen blankly. Human invasion…? Did the humans even know of the Monster World's existence? And if they did, how long had they known for? Was this really the end of Monsters, Inc.? Or was it just all a big, fat rumour, like Sullivan had been saying, or rather, trying to say?
He sunk the tip of his thumb on a tooth, though not too far as to break the skin, and settled into deep thought. After a while, he decided to take a visit to Monsters, Inc. and see the destruction for himself- it was only a five-minute walk away down the road, and he needn't be too long. He got to his feet, the patch of the sofa that he had been sitting on inflating like a balloon, and popped to the cloakroom to grab his coat; although it was near the conclusion of June, the air was particularly nippy, still fresh as the sun had only just risen.
As he entered the front room once more, now with his long, black coat on, he literally bumped into Zephyr. The moment was awkward.
"Hey, Ran…" She half-smiled and licked her lips. Then, she noticed the coat and decided to point it out. "So…where are you going?" Randall wanted to just ignore this question, but instead he threw her a bitter look that lasted for barely a second, turning away.
"Out." Randall did as he said, and was soon gone. Zephyr looked at where he had been standing just moments before and tried to remember the look that she had just received from him. It had felt as though he were a lion-tamer that had been attacked by her, his favourite creature, and the food that he would feed to her were represented by their physical contact and, in some ways more importantly, their eye-contact, and now, instead of giving her large, filling meals, he had now reduced this luxury to a few pathetic scraps, as though he wished her to die.
And the love that she once saw in these eyes was clearly gone, leaving a cold, bare, hollow, black nothingness. There was only real one problem apart from this- Zephyr still loved him as much as ever, if not more.
The sun was now beginning to peak over the tallest of the buildings in the street. Time had gone quickly, but this was probably because Randall was really taking his time with walking, and also because he was, once again, in deep, deep thought. In some ways, he didn't really want to see MI again- not because he wasn't intrigued by what had happened there, but because of the memories that might surface once again.
He shuddered. Just thinking about it was worryingly painful, though not particularly surprising. Inching his way towards a building he had seen almost every day for six years at one point, Randall folded his arms and stared intently at the pavement. Maybe, if he didn't look at the building before he actually went in it, it wouldn't be so bad. But, then again, the reason that he was visiting the site in the first place was to see the outer structure and the state that it was in…
The thought of reliving all of those memories of what had happened just before his exile suddenly became too much for Randall, and he stopped in his stride, willing back the tears. He would have to be tough if he was going to be able to do this. Not only that- he would have to be tough if he was to live the next who knows how many years in this part of the world, especially with a shop that was almost constantly visited by old 'friends' of his.
Yeah, that's right. He'd managed to put up with seeing all of these monsters that had featured in a section of his life he'd rather forget, so why couldn't he do this? There wasn't an answer! All he has to do is walk straight up to factory, eyeball it for a little while, and leave! Then, he'd fine out the extent of the damage there and face up to something he'd been shying away from at the same time! Brilliant!
With a great big grin plastered across his face, Randall bumped into someone for the second time that day. He muttered a slightly sarcastic 'excuse me', disregarding his sudden mood change, and went to carry on with his mission. After about three or four steps (depending on whether you count the fact that he has four feet rather than the commonplace two) he stopped rather quickly and thought about turning around.
Randall really felt like throwing up, and if he was going to do so, he might as well turn around. The thing is, if his suspicions were wrong and the monsters that he had just bumped into weren't the monsters that he thought he had bumped into, he would end up an utter fool.
Then again, if he was right…
Taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat off his hands, Randall slowly turned around. It was just as he expected, and the nauseous feeling he had been experiencing stopped, although he didn't know why- the two monsters standing metres away from him were the two monsters that he probably loathed most in the world.
They were staring; Mike with his jaw swinging open and Sulley with his eyes popping out of his head. They quickly remembered their manners though, and the big furry coughed politely before trying to smile.
"Hello, Randall…" He half-shrugged, struggling to think of something intelligent to say. Randall just narrowed his eyes. "How are you?" You could see by the look in Sulley's eyes that he was treading on eggshells, and was failing. If he actually had been treading on eggshells at that point, his feet would no longer be recognisable. Randall, on the other hand, was trying very hard not to explode. How WAS he! What kind of a question was that?!
Before he could answer, the Cyclops butted in, the shock having subsided slightly.
"What are you doing here! You don't belong here! We got rid of you, for PETE'S SAKE! I mean, I heard all those rumours and everything about the guys going to your scruffy little shack or whatever, but I never thought that you'd actually-"
"Survive?" The old Randall, the Randall that had been shoved away in a dark closet to rot and get covered with ludicrously large cobwebs and to stay in the dark forever, the Randall that no-one was ever meant to see again, Zephyr included, stirred and woke up. "You slimy little git," he muttered, teeth clenched. He stepped forward, towering over Mike in absolute fury. "You really wanted me to DIE, didn't you? You're sick, y'know that? Completely sick." He then backed up a little, hoping that Mike had gotten the idea which, by the look on his face, he had, and tried to relax a bit. "You thought you'd gotten rid of me, but you haven't. I'm back with a vengeance although, by the sounds of things, my absence hasn't made your life any better."
"But-but HOW!"
"How'd I get back into the Monster World? I really didn't think you'd care. The only thing that matters at this very moment is that I'm back." Randall looked up at Sulley properly for the first time and noticed the strain in his eyes, not caused by himself, but by other matters. "CEO, huh? Hope you didn't plan on following in Waternoose's footsteps…Then again, maybe you'd be doing better if you had, hmm? I've got a coupla questions for you two, but there's really only one of 'em that you alone can answer." There was a pause.
"Randall, what happened at Monsters, Inc. is really none of your business," Sulley began hesitantly.
"Oh, isn't it? What if I said to you that I wanted to make it my business?"
"Then, I'd have to ask how you planned on doing so."
"And I'd answer, 'I'm gonna ask the CEO and his…annoying little sidekick… about what happened.'"
"And we WON'T ANSWER!" Mike jumped up, feeling left out. His friend gave him a stern look that could be interpreted as either 'why don't you get the popcorn for once?' or as 'for once, please close your mouth because I know how to handle this situation and you, quite frankly, don't.' In this case, it was the latter.
Randall chuckled unnervingly. "Oh yes you will." His mouth broke into an outright grin as a plan was quickly formed in his mind. "Who, in this city," he said, waving his arms about him and performing the exaggerated hand gestures that he was known for, "knows about what you did to me? I can answer that- you two, and I. That's it, right?" They nodded.
Perfect! Randall thought to himself. This means that the others haven't told these two about what I've been telling them in the Teacup, so they don't know that I've told anyone else which means I can blackmail them! And, coz the others haven't said anything, I guess I can presume that they wanna hear more of the story, so… "I could change that very easily."
"And who, Randall, would believe you?"
"I dunno. But are you really willing to take that risk? Because some of 'em might believe me, and bang! There goes your reputation…Or, rather, what's left of it anyways."
"You could never prove it."
"Oh…couldn't I?"
"No. You couldn't."
"You carry on saying that, and maybe one day you'll believe it, hmm?"
"How would you prove it?" That was a mighty good question and, admittedly, one that Randall didn't have the answer to. Then again, THEY didn't know that, did they?"
"Let's just say that if I had a nose, I'd tap the side of it." The rising sun caused Randall's scales to shine and glimmer, and for a second, he looked as though he were an angel, albeit an angel recently kicked out of heaven. "Enough about me- what have you two been doing in your amazing lives?"
"Everything's GREAT, Randall," Mike shouted with an edge to his voice, "everything's just GREAT! I'm married to Celia, she's expecting, I'm Top Comedian down at Monsters, Inc…things couldn't be BETTER!" Randall shook his head.
"Sounds like, along with trying to convince me of how perfect your life is, you're trying to convince yourself. Wha'sa matter? Things not going to well down in Annoying Git Paradise?" Mike narrowed his eye at this remark, sticking his fist up, ready to make a reply, when his best buddy decided to contain his temper for him.
"Randall…" he muttered warningly.
"And how about you, then? Is being CEO really that amazing? Or does that sign down there," Randall motioned towards a string of posters plastered across a shop that had recently closed down and was currently unoccupied, "or more like signs, say it all?" The posters stated in big, red, badly drawn letters that because of the recent devastation over at MI, the workers there desperately needed help repairing the building, interior and exterior, and also with mechanical repairs regarding the equipment used by the Comedians.
Sulley did not give a reply, instead looking to his left and right, trying to avoid any eye-contact with the curious and somewhat intoxicating emerald green of Randall's irises.
"That silence, that silence there? It says it all." Randall grinned once more. "I want to volunteer."
"Volunteer?" Sulley was worried.
"I wanna help out at MI and everything." The confused looks that were passing between Mike and Sulley asked one very simple question. "Why? Well…The place holds a lotta memories for me, a lot more than you might think. And no matter what's happened there in the past…let's just say I want to keep a part of myself firmly stuck in the company's interests." His voice got low and quiet. "To be completely honest, I miss the place. Everything about it- the stupidly waxed floors, the never-ending corridors…even some of the…obtuse employees, though to be COMPLETELY honest, they were always a bit of a pain." Mike muttered the word 'obtuse' questionably under his breath, to which Randall replied in a more than exasperated manner, "Thick, idiotic, someone who has problems telling the difference between a toothbrush and one of those chopsticks, whatever. It doesn't make any difference. What matters is that…I wanna go back."
"I'm going to have to think about this, Randall." Sulley could see the hope in his ex-workmate's eyes and wasn't too keen on dashing it, but letting him back in the company would be a very risky action to take indeed. "You haven't been the most trustworthy of monsters in the past, and although I know you're good with your hands, I'm still not sure that-"
"Oh, why don't you just come out and say it?" Randall was suddenly incredibly frustrated. "Why don't you just be honest, huh? 'You're sleaze, Randall, no-one in their right mind would ever let you through their doorway without a lethal weapon in hand! You're slimy, creepy, insufferable!'" He growled, anger erupting inside of him. "'You're a freak.'" Inwardly, he chuckled.
By the looks on Mike and Sulley's faces, his plan was working without a single flaw. Those two were such suckers for emotion.
He took a deep breath, pretending to hold back tears, and eyed the two for one last time, though he knew it wouldn't be. "Forget it. I'd never want to work under such a tyrant as you anyways." He turned around indignantly, beginning to stroll away at speed, when he heard his name being bleated out.
"Randall! Wait!" Sulley had jogged up to him, taking a hold of his shoulder and swivelling him round. "Look, if you want to help," he said breathlessly, "then…why not?" Randall scrutinized his expression, then, after another moment of silence in which Wazowski came to catch up with them, let an expression of joy glow from his features.
"…You're kidding me, right?" This was a key stage in Randall's plan- Sullivan had taken the bait, but whether or not Randall was able to reel him in was a very important part of his fishing, as it is in all fishing.
"No…no, I'm not. Come today, if you want, even." All the while Mike was protesting silently, but he soon stopped when Sulley chucked a fiery glare in his direction.
"Thanks." Randall made sure that this word was said in a very heartfelt, touched sort of way before declining. "But I won't be able to make it today- got to watch over the shop, can't really leave Zephyr to deal with the whole place on her own, expecting an order sometime this afternoon as well; I've got a pretty full schedule. Though I wouldn't mind taking a look at the damage, y'know…"
"Yeah, sure! Um, come with us!"
Oh boy! Randall thought gleefully to himself. That was so easy it was scary! I should look in the papers tonight for any job placements in the world of acting…And to use the term that is, well, overused, those two brain-dead zombies took the bait hook, line and sinker! He resisted the urge to burst out in laughter and kept the somewhat sombre expression on his face the same to the exact pinpoint of every muscle.
As they began to walk to their destination, Mike muttering to himself in quiet fury, Sulley started to think very deeply regarding the whole situation. He had been relatively moved by Randall's little outburst, but this wasn't his main reason for letting the lizard-monster contribute to the repairs. No; what had convinced him to take this action was something that made a lot more sense- the basic fact that Randall could, and, by the sounds of it, already had, tell the story of what had occurred at MI those years ago. And no matter how long ago it had actually been, everyone, he knew, would listen, because the tiniest little bit of gossip, even without a single shred of evidence, always managed to turn into a giant monster of a rumour, and this was exactly what Sulley was worried about.
One side of his nattering conscience brought up the only doubt he had in those truths, and this was that because Randall was who he was- a scaley- a few of the monsters that he would tell might not believe him; they never had a reason to before, so why would they now? But if only one person did believe him, and if that person happened to be quite influential and charismatic, everything would certainly go downhill from there. And if Sulley were to consider his own reputation in the equation...He might've been popular once upon a time, but things had changed since then, and being CEO had always been more stressful than he had ever expected.
Which was exactly why he was being lenient concerning Randall's access- to stop him from blabbering, or, more like, to stop him from blabbering any more than he already had. The very idea of everyone knowing what had happened along with, as mentioned before, the pressures of being the CEO of a once huge company was completely unthinkable.
The three rounded a corner, and the terrible scene came into sight, making Randall gasp silently. The place he had always hoped and dreamed of working at as a child, the place that had been almost a second home to him as an adult, was leaning slightly to the left. Bricks and mortar along with a large spread of dust littered the car park immediately outside the entrance, and although there were no cars to be seen in that area, lengthy pieces of metal that looked as though they had once made up vehicles lay in amongst the rubble. The structure of the building itself seemed to be basically stable, but any decorations on the exterior of the place were wasted. Workers were dotted about the outside of the building, carrying large strips of metal and supplies, all working hard at whatever they were doing, looking like flies on a rotting piece of meat, although clearly not enjoying themselves as much.
Sulley turned to Randall and, seeing the devastated expression on his face, sighed. He had seen this expression on so many of his friend's faces, and even on passer bys, that it didn't seem to affect him anymore. Leading the way, he went through the gates of the car park and looked behind him, waiting for the other two to catch up.
"Uh, y'know," Randall began, nearly unable to take his eyes of the sight before him, "maybe I'd better head off home- Zephyr's waiting and…" Sulley nodded, understanding the situation- Randall suddenly had a nervous composition, and he appreciated why; after everything that had happened, coming back to Monsters, Inc. would be the hardest thing for the lizard-monster, and seeing it in such a state as this certainly wouldn't help matters. Mike, on the other hand, narrowed his eye at Randall, looking apprehensive.
"You sure about that, Lizard-Boy? I thought you'd be eager to return to MI- it holds so many memories, y'know, and I thought you might like to say 'hi' to a few of the guys, since you haven't seen them for such a long time-"
"Oh, believe me, I've seen 'em recently, and by the sounds of it, you two really aren't Mr and Mrs Popular."
"But that's going to change, isn't it Randall?" Sulley said, on the verge of a threatening tone but still trying to make it sound like a reasonable conversation. "Because you're going to say that everything you told them before was just a string of lies to keep them returning to your shop, and that we're trustworthy individuals, aren't you?" Randall nodded dismissively.
"Yeah, sure, no worries." He had turned, scolding himself for being such a wimp, when a quick thought popped into his mind. It was what some would call a mere detail, but he felt that if he didn't mention it, he would be betraying…well, himself. "And by the way," he began in a gruff voice, still walking, "do NOT call me 'Lizard-Boy'."
The shop, from the outside, looked dark. There was a slowly increasing crowd of monsters at its entrance, all waiting to go inside, and as Randall approached them all, a confused, bewildered expression crossing over his face, he gently came to a halt. Several monsters called out his name in jubilation, but the lizard-monster was only really listening to what Andy had to say.
"We came, as per usual, to your shop to find that it was closed. I'm not impressed Randall, not at all."
"But I only went for a walk! Zephyr was meant to open up…"
"It sounds as though you need to train that animal of yours- the way she kept eyeing us whilst we listened to your story. Incredibly rude." There was a pause in which Randall tried desperately to count the number of spots on the teenagers face in his mind (a little trick that had been told to him once by a random professor at his university who knew, as pretty much everyone else did, of his impending temper) but, for the first time in a while, this method failed. Andy leaned in closer, as though he were passing a great secret onto Randall, and whispered quietly, though loud enough for everyone else to hear, "She is house-trained, isn't she? I would dread to think of-"
He was cut off by a purple fist coming into contact with his jaw, and fell to the floor heavily. Randall was never keen on physical contact, especially with the numerous bullies at his primary school, and high school, and pretty much everywhere he went (was there a possibility that there might be some special operation trying to make sure that in every stage of his life, there was someone to bully him? In Randall's opinion, there was definitely a likelihood of this) and with all of these memories, punching someone in the jaw was completely against his character.
Then again, he did have somewhat of a temper.
Andy groaned, holding his jaw in a hand and, by the looks of it, try to put back but not managing to, and Randall towered over him proudly.
"I wouldn't come back if I were you Andy. Then again," he said, flashing a grin, "if I were you, I'd have committed suicide by now." Walking away satisfied, Randall tried the door of Storm In A Teacup. "Sorry folks- it's locked. I'll be back in a few." He went around the side of the building, going through a rusty gate that they hadn't been able to afford to replace, and went to a side door which, to Randall's knowledge, was always left open during the day.
Inside, as it seemed to be from outside, it was gloomy. Randall was keeping his eyes peeled raw for any signs of life, but for now, there was nothing. Luckily, he knew the layout of the place well, having been a part of the design team in the first place, and along with his highly reflective eyes, navigating the shop would be easy.
Going through the double doors that lead to the café at the back, Randall gave the room a quick scan before deciding that, like the other room, Zephyr was not here. There were only two places left to search- upstairs, around the flat, or the rest of the world. Randall opted for searching the flat first. He slithered up the wall of the stair well and shoved the key in its lock.
The sofa was lower than usual, and that meant only one thing. The blinds were down, and Zephyr's face was masked in darkness. Randall made sure not to do that annoying thing that all the stupid good guys do in horror films by avoiding calling out Zephyr's name, especially since he knew that she was there, so saying her name in the context of a question was just a waste of time, and also because in horror films, when the stupid good guys call out the person's name that they can see a bit of but cannot see the features of their face, they turn out to be a monster of some kind- the monster that's the whole subject of the horror film itself.
Zephyr's cheeks were tear-stained, and without thinking, Randall had already decided that he preferred the option of calling out her name coming face to face with a monster instead. But, although Randall, as a child, had drawn many pictures of his soon-to-be famous time machine, the thing had never actually come into existence, and so he therefore could not make the choice again. He sat down next to Zephyr's small body, appreciating her beauty in the darkness.
Rare were the times that Randall could do this- just sit and stare and appreciate- so when he did get the opportunity, he knew not to take it for granted. So he appreciated every element of her very being; the little nicks in her perfectly white skin that resembled scales in one way but didn't another; the hood on each side of her graceful, long neck as a cobra has, rising and falling ever so slightly with each breath; her thin, winding tail with a tuft of bright purple hair on its end that she had used so many times to tickle Randall and eventually make him cry with laughter; and finally, her mystical, hypnotising lavender eyes, the colour of which Randall had never actually been able to get over.
He sat down next to Zephyr, feeling all the anger inside of him wash away, and smiled. "I love you too."
The others had grown impatient and some of them had left, but the few remaining lit up with joy as the sign on the shop's door was turned around to state 'Open'. "Finally!" some of them exclaimed, somewhat happy.
"Sorry about the wait, gents, but I had a little chore to do."
"So you'll get on with telling the story?" Needlman asked hopefully. Randall waited a moment before answering.
"Yeah, sure…Just don't tell Zephyr, alright- she isn't too happy about all of this. Actually, scratch that- don't tell anyone, okay?" Randall couldn't take any risks- just as long as Mike and Sulley and, indeed, Zephyr, didn't know a thing, there wouldn't be any problems, which was exactly why Randall had sent Zephyr off to bed, persuading her that she needed some rest. He didn't like betraying her, no, but revenge still dominated his mind, and after the little meeting that morning, he was all the more driven.
It was only a matter of time…
