BaneDaemon
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- Dec 15, 2002
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BaneDaemon: "Geez, 3 years since my first and only story here. I didn't actually think it'd been that long... oh well. I'm not sure how much tickling content I'll put into this story. For that matter, I don't know how much time I'll put into it overall. I'm a lazy writer, with maybe weekly updates the only possibility for now. I'll try and describe the characters better as it goes on, as well as the descriptions in general. For now, I'm gonna ease into it. This is also kinda short for my standards, but prologues usually are, aren't they?... okay, enough blabbering. Let's get into this."
“I still don’t know how you managed to drag me out here.”
A man in his mid-20’s laughed nervously but genially at the woman of the same age, keeping his hands wisely on the steering wheel. The fog had thickened quite dramatically in the last five minutes or so, which made driving difficult as it was. Thankfully, he possessed enough patience to tolerate it and his passenger’s irritated remarks.
“Come on, you need a break,” he replied, his cobalt eyes fixed squarely on the fog-shrouded road ahead. His brunette hair sat inelegantly on his head, the result of a powernap taken during the trip. “I called your boss, and he said you’d been overtaxing yourself for no reason. You need to chill.”
“But still,” the woman whined, her russet-toned eyes narrowing uncomfortably, “why are we coming here? Couldn’t we have just stayed at home instead?” She flicked some of her blonde hair out of her face as she turned to the driver.
“Rosette,” the man sighed, showing his first signs of exhaustion, “if you knew we’d be staying at home, you would’ve smuggled some of your work to do there instead. This way, you won’t have to put so much pressure on yourself, for once.”
“Oh, but, but…” Rosette trailed off, trying to think up a rebuttal. However, for all her office smarts, she was never an on-the-spot thinker in a conversation - especially when it came to her partner, who seemed to think three steps ahead of her. She slumped back into her seat, folding her arms across her chest. “Fine. You win, Isaac. But the place we’re going better not be as creepy as this road we’re taking.”
“Strange, though,” Isaac wondered aloud. “Your boss practically insisted that we use his vacation house for your rest. You’d think he has ulterior motives or something.”
“Now you’re just being paranoid,” Rosette retorted. “Remember, it’s me who doesn’t feel like coming here.” She smirked slightly to show amusement, temporarily postponing Isaac’s apprehension.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Isaac concurred. “Seriously, though, with all the hours you put into your work, you’d think you were running the business.”
“So you think I should get a promotion, too?” Rosette replied with another smirk. “I told Mr. Glasfgoff that, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m on his side,” the brunette man muttered. A glare (and a light but noticeable punch on the arm) from the blonde woman shut his mouth on that particular topic of conversation. “You need this, Rosette. You need to take a breather before you get too old for your time. What are you, 24? You’ve got plenty of time, have some fun for once.”
“Hmmph,” Rosette pouted, folding her arms again. “Fun’s for school kids and people without ambitions. I’m a businesswoman, a woman of the 21st century. I have no time for fun.”
Isaac’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he turned to his wife. “Well, I’m a 21st century man, but I believe that a little fun here and there can’t hurt anyone. But it could raise a smile or two.” He temporarily released the steering wheel to tickle Rosette’s sides, enjoying the way she squirmed and unsuccessfully tried to block his attack.
“Isaac,” Rosette gasped between laughs, “quit it! Keep your eyes on the road!”
Isaac complied, releasing Rosette from her temporarily torment to concentrate on the driving. However, when he squinted into the distance, he detected a building far away. The car’s fog lights were switched on, so he could faintly see the mansion on top of a hill.
For some reason, his stomach plummeted at the sight of it, giving him a nasty feeling that this was something out of a B-grade horror flick. Nonetheless, he drove the perturbing thoughts from his mind as the car trundled along to its destination.
The mansion was far less grand up close than from a distance. In fact, it was one of the most dilapidated, sorry excuses for a housing structure that Isaac had ever seen in his life. The windows were cracked, allowing the bitter night air to trespass into the interior of the mansion. The weathervane perched on the roof was crooked, and unless Isaac’s eyes were deceiving him, on the verge of toppling from its position and falling onto the ground with the grace of a hippo. Even the door looked like it could collapse from its hinges and squash the unfortunate person standing before it. But the most troubling aspect of the neglected mansion, in his opinion, was the peculiar, almost supernatural aura that seemed to emanate from it.
However, his train of thought was interrupted by the unsophisticated words of his partner as she too gawked at the monstrosity.
“What a dump!” she exclaimed, her contempt evident in her voice. “This is Mr. Glasgoff’s vacation house?! When was this last renovated, the 18th century?”
Isaac silently agreed, but couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling of animosity radiating from their home for the next week. Again, the gut-wrenching feeling of being in a mediocre horror movie reared its decidedly ugly head, and he wondered whether Rosette’s boss was playing a trick on them.
“Well, I guess there’s no helping it,” the woman sighed, resigned to her fate. “C’mon, we might as well take a look inside before hitting the hay. It’s not as if the place is haunted, right?”
Isaac could’ve sworn he heard Rosette swallow nervously. However, he didn’t dare bring it up. The blonde was one to physically state her denial, and the car ride was exhausting enough. Nonetheless, he heaved the luggage cases from the boot of the car and languidly entered the mansion. For some reason, finding a way for Rosette to relax wouldn’t be the only problem he’d have to face during their stay.
BaneDaemon: "Yeah, in case you did notice, I like formatting."
Unorthodox relaxation methods
“I still don’t know how you managed to drag me out here.”
A man in his mid-20’s laughed nervously but genially at the woman of the same age, keeping his hands wisely on the steering wheel. The fog had thickened quite dramatically in the last five minutes or so, which made driving difficult as it was. Thankfully, he possessed enough patience to tolerate it and his passenger’s irritated remarks.
“Come on, you need a break,” he replied, his cobalt eyes fixed squarely on the fog-shrouded road ahead. His brunette hair sat inelegantly on his head, the result of a powernap taken during the trip. “I called your boss, and he said you’d been overtaxing yourself for no reason. You need to chill.”
“But still,” the woman whined, her russet-toned eyes narrowing uncomfortably, “why are we coming here? Couldn’t we have just stayed at home instead?” She flicked some of her blonde hair out of her face as she turned to the driver.
“Rosette,” the man sighed, showing his first signs of exhaustion, “if you knew we’d be staying at home, you would’ve smuggled some of your work to do there instead. This way, you won’t have to put so much pressure on yourself, for once.”
“Oh, but, but…” Rosette trailed off, trying to think up a rebuttal. However, for all her office smarts, she was never an on-the-spot thinker in a conversation - especially when it came to her partner, who seemed to think three steps ahead of her. She slumped back into her seat, folding her arms across her chest. “Fine. You win, Isaac. But the place we’re going better not be as creepy as this road we’re taking.”
“Strange, though,” Isaac wondered aloud. “Your boss practically insisted that we use his vacation house for your rest. You’d think he has ulterior motives or something.”
“Now you’re just being paranoid,” Rosette retorted. “Remember, it’s me who doesn’t feel like coming here.” She smirked slightly to show amusement, temporarily postponing Isaac’s apprehension.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Isaac concurred. “Seriously, though, with all the hours you put into your work, you’d think you were running the business.”
“So you think I should get a promotion, too?” Rosette replied with another smirk. “I told Mr. Glasfgoff that, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m on his side,” the brunette man muttered. A glare (and a light but noticeable punch on the arm) from the blonde woman shut his mouth on that particular topic of conversation. “You need this, Rosette. You need to take a breather before you get too old for your time. What are you, 24? You’ve got plenty of time, have some fun for once.”
“Hmmph,” Rosette pouted, folding her arms again. “Fun’s for school kids and people without ambitions. I’m a businesswoman, a woman of the 21st century. I have no time for fun.”
Isaac’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he turned to his wife. “Well, I’m a 21st century man, but I believe that a little fun here and there can’t hurt anyone. But it could raise a smile or two.” He temporarily released the steering wheel to tickle Rosette’s sides, enjoying the way she squirmed and unsuccessfully tried to block his attack.
“Isaac,” Rosette gasped between laughs, “quit it! Keep your eyes on the road!”
Isaac complied, releasing Rosette from her temporarily torment to concentrate on the driving. However, when he squinted into the distance, he detected a building far away. The car’s fog lights were switched on, so he could faintly see the mansion on top of a hill.
For some reason, his stomach plummeted at the sight of it, giving him a nasty feeling that this was something out of a B-grade horror flick. Nonetheless, he drove the perturbing thoughts from his mind as the car trundled along to its destination.
The mansion was far less grand up close than from a distance. In fact, it was one of the most dilapidated, sorry excuses for a housing structure that Isaac had ever seen in his life. The windows were cracked, allowing the bitter night air to trespass into the interior of the mansion. The weathervane perched on the roof was crooked, and unless Isaac’s eyes were deceiving him, on the verge of toppling from its position and falling onto the ground with the grace of a hippo. Even the door looked like it could collapse from its hinges and squash the unfortunate person standing before it. But the most troubling aspect of the neglected mansion, in his opinion, was the peculiar, almost supernatural aura that seemed to emanate from it.
However, his train of thought was interrupted by the unsophisticated words of his partner as she too gawked at the monstrosity.
“What a dump!” she exclaimed, her contempt evident in her voice. “This is Mr. Glasgoff’s vacation house?! When was this last renovated, the 18th century?”
Isaac silently agreed, but couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling of animosity radiating from their home for the next week. Again, the gut-wrenching feeling of being in a mediocre horror movie reared its decidedly ugly head, and he wondered whether Rosette’s boss was playing a trick on them.
“Well, I guess there’s no helping it,” the woman sighed, resigned to her fate. “C’mon, we might as well take a look inside before hitting the hay. It’s not as if the place is haunted, right?”
Isaac could’ve sworn he heard Rosette swallow nervously. However, he didn’t dare bring it up. The blonde was one to physically state her denial, and the car ride was exhausting enough. Nonetheless, he heaved the luggage cases from the boot of the car and languidly entered the mansion. For some reason, finding a way for Rosette to relax wouldn’t be the only problem he’d have to face during their stay.
To be continued (eventually)
BaneDaemon: "Yeah, in case you did notice, I like formatting."
