Forlorn Visitor
1018 Words
"Did I lock my door this morning?"
He carefully pushed open his door, slowly, Slayer in his left hand. "Hello? Victoria, is that you?"
With a bark, Princess scuffled her way to him, tail eagerly wagging. In the background, he could hear someone playing his Game of Thrones DVDs, at double the volume he himself normally did. "Oh, thank god. It's Victoria."
He made sure to lock the front door behind him.
"She's the neighbor's kid, from a few houses down. Come on. I'll introduce you."
She sprawled at the same spot she normally took when visiting, such as you can call people who unlock your doors for themselves without a key your visitors. Beside her, a not-quite-as-dilapidated Aloe sat in her pot. One of Harold's better plates kept soil from leaking from the pot directly onto his sofa.
"Is that my last bag of chips?" he asked.
"Not my fault if you only keep three bags of chips in your house. And you're low on microwave popcorn, too."
"I know she's Black! Or African American, or whatever! And. I. DON'T. CARE!"
"Mister L? Oh my god! What happened to your face?"
In a moment of impetuous insight, Harold drew forth his letter opener, and focused his anger at it.
"Whoa!" Victoria said, spilling chips everywhere.
(Harold didn't notice that aloe took a tentative nibble at one before casually dropping the others over the edge of her planter.)
"That's like... real magic!" she said. "Can you teach me?"
"This, Harold Leightner, is the enthusiasm I expected from you. Greetings, man-child Victoria. I am Slayer of Men."
"Oh my gawd, and the ventriloquism, too!" She rose from the couch, and approached as quickly as Princess would let her. The two of them had rules about that which Harold himself barely understood.
"How long have you been preparing this?" she asked.
"I just got the sword today." Harold said. "And it really is the size of a letter opener, and it seems to be..."
"Mister L? Did you get curb stomped, or something?" She looked at him with open eyes, the same as he imagined his face looked when she'd first introduced him to Goblin Slayer.
"Or something. Look, monsters are real, and an ogre attacked me today. It might not be safe for you here."
"Uh-huh. You work at the DMV; my mom's a professional asshole. I'll take my chances here."
She reached up as if to touch his cheek, and then said. "Pause it; I'll get your first aid kit."
Eventually finding the remote wedged between two seat cushions, Harold rewound to the point that looked like a match for the sounds of when he came in and had a seat.
Victoria wasn't unskilled; merely merciless. She applied iodine to every scab on his cheek, and then began exploratory surgery for every bit of gravel she could see.
"Okay, so this ogre. At least tell me police have a description of this guy?"
Harold nodded. "Swetland even knows the guy's name."
"Officer Stoneheart?" Victoria asked. "I don't know how you can talk to that guy. Just looking at him gives me the willies. Still, at least he isn't a racist."
"I don't understand why you haven't gone to the hospital. You need to."
"Didn't know you were here; I came to let Princess in."
"I can take care of Princess, you need to take care of you."
"I..." Harold felt a quiver from his hand, as Slayer of Men began to shrink.
"Nope. I got this. I'll wash your nasty guest sheets and sleep here. You need to see a professional."
"Oh." Victoria said, "And here's a shopping list for you. You got bare patches in that fridge."
"I usually shop on the weekends." he said, putting the list next to his wallet.
"And mom usually waits until Thursday to start guzzling down the Jack Daniels. Not a typical week."
"Sorry to hear that. Stress from work?"
Victoria nodded. "You heard about Simon Vermont?"
"Nope." Harold said.
"Police think he's that serial rapist from the news. Mom's been assigned to get him off."
"Why DOES your mom do that?" Harold asked. "She'd be so much happier on the other side."
"Yeah, I still tell her that." Victoria said. "Mom does it because she still thinks money is love. I'll learn her right before going off to college."
"Or a trade school." Harold said. "They did okay with me, once I started recovering from my amnesia."
"Yeah, I might not be a lawyer like my mom, but I'll work fast food before taking a job at that place. Now... I love you Mister L, but that face thing is seriously nasty. You need medication, and maybe a few days off from work. You need me to drive you to the hospital?"
"Let's not break any laws over this." Harold said. "I'll go to the hospital, remember not to over-feed Princess."
Slayer of Men asked, once Harold was back outside his house.
"Nope. Normal humans all around. Although, this will be my first time in the emergency room."
"See, and that's where I've got a problem with this whole thing you seem to want me to do. Supernatural people are still people, with feelings and well, souls."
Slayer sighed deeply in his mind.
"I don't even know who that is, but I can check on my cell phone while we wait at the ER."
Slayer said.
- Writer
