"You make me feel so young...
You make me feel so 'Spring has sprung'..."
It was a dumb song to sing, really. The only reason Pit was singing it at all was because it was on television so much. But it was surprisingly appropriate, considering what he was doing at the moment.
It was only last year that Utsuho had experienced Christmas properly. And whilst that had been a brillian experience, as far as Pit was concerned, that was when she had merely been his fiance, and not his wife as she was now. And this was going to be their first Christmas as a married couple - one that the angel wanted them both to cherish and remember for always afterwards. So, being the old-fashioned romantic he was, he had decided that this year, he was going to do something special for her, to make this year's Yuletide something to remember.
And that something was a Pre-Christmas Dinner back at his house.
It was a strange concept, to say the east, and one that even Dirk had raised an eyebrow at. But Pit knew how much that Utsuho loved her food, especially when it came to the yearly goodies. And thus did the white-winged angel find himself within the kitchen, busying himself over the pots on the stove and the slow cooker and goodness knows what else was going on in there. Whilst the eldest of the Angelos Brothers may not have been the esteemed cook his brother was, the fine, toothsome smell of roasting chestnuts, traditional Christmas pudding, cooking goose and more besides indicated he was making pretty good progress.
And he was pretty happy with that progress, as he continued singing along as he stirred the contents of a saucepan.
"And every time I see you grin,
I'm such a happy... in-dividual!"
Dirk has given some pointers, of course - he was the expert when it came to food prep. But the dark-winged angel had fully admitted that tradition was not something he was partial to, not after the gourmet cooking had been such a runaway success with Josephine. So whilst he'd given what advice he could, in the end it had been mostly up to Pit to make it work. And as he took a small taste of the cranberry sauce he was working on, he was pretty sure he was making it work just spectacularly.
Utsuho is going to love this, he thought to himself.
"You and I...
Are just like a-"
Knock knock.
Pit paused mid-stir, confusion lacing his mind. Then he put the spoon back in the saucepan, turned the heat down to "simmer" and made for the door. Who would be calling upon him at this time of the day? Certainly not Utsuho, as far as he knew - she'd promised to arrive much later than this, he knew, so that the dinner would be ready in time. And Wes Weasely hadn't figured out how to bypass their new honey badger security system, so it couldn't have been him...
The view through the door didn't give much indication, either - just a lare bulk, obscured by the frosted-over windows. Pit did not envy anyone who was outside this year, for it had been the worst sort of snow the city had seen for a good long while. He briefly wondered, as he approached the door, whom would be stupid or brave enough to try and withstand the driving blizzards to call upon his house, if they weren't his wife. Perhaps one of his portly uncles had arrived to share some of the family cider?
"Hel-" he began to say as he opened the door.
And then fearful recognition turned the word to thorns in his mouth.
On the surface, the words seemed sincere, almost melodic. But Pit knew very well what sort of slimy ugliness was beneath them, and it made his stomach churn with disgust even as his blood froze in barely-restrained terror. He had to force his next sentence out, the words sticking in his throat, and they tasted bitter as he spoke, almost as if he was dreaming the whole situation.
"No, not at all," he lied, and instantly hated himself.
The beast gave an ugly chuckle, baring all of his teeth. "Well, now, can a gentleman come in from the cold? You know it ain't polite to refuse an old acquaintance, don't ya?"
"Of course." Pit stood aside automatically, gesturing with one hand. "Come right in."
The creature grinned wider, and turned sideways as he pushed his way through the doorframe, so as he could fit through and cross the threshold properly. Pit could have screamed as the thing entered his house, but said nothing as his uninvited guest ambled towards the dining room, filling the air with the foul scent of stagnant water and pudgy feet leaving damp track marks in the carpet. And as he watched the beast lug it's way past the next door, humming some backwater tune to itself, a horrible thought lanced across his mind like an icicle thrown by an Olympic javelin-thrower.
Please... Not now...
-------
The very small angel had never seen such a very large gentleman in all his life. He had thin whiskers, and a huge mouth - the hugest the very small angel had seen in all his life - that stretched from one side of his head to the other. His skin was wet, like a frog's, and his moith was all full of sharp, crooked yellow teeth, and each hand bore sharp, crooked yellow claws. But he dressed like a rich man, with a top hat and a coat that, on a second look, proved to be two coats cut apart and sewn together because he was so large.
Then the gentleman rose up out of the water and spoke, and his voice was rich and smooth, like a river in the spring. And the very small angel knew the gentleman came from that mysterious place his mother called the South.
"Excuse my singing, little one," the gentleman said. "But the song was meant for your attention, after all."
"Who are you?" asked the angel, who wasn't sure if he ought to have been afraid or not.
"That," said the gentleman, with a crooked smile, "ain't what's important. What's important, boy, is that you got problems back home. And I can offer you solutions." And that very large gentleman began to sing again, and this time the angel understood the words:
"Come on down the river,
Your fortune waits for you.
Come shake hands with Two-Coats
And all your dreams will come true!
Whatever you desire,
I can set it free,
So come on down... with me!"
At first, the very small angel was frightened. He wasn't sure if he could trust this gentleman, with his sharp teeth and strange way of speaking - his father had often told him to be careful of those who promised him anything. But the gentleman spoke so sincerely, and his song was so strangely compelling, that the angel soon forgot that he was supposed to be afraid.
"But how do you know me?" he asked, after a time. "And how do you know I ran away?"
The very large gentleman gave an ugly chuckle. "Boy, ol' Two-Coats knows everythin' about anythin'. I know that your family be very poor, and they be fightin' on Christmas Eve, which ain't right at all. I also know," he went on, showing all his teeth in a grin, "that you fancy yourself up there, with your name in lights, up on Sintendo Tower. And I reckon you'd look just darlin' on the front page o' their magazine."
The very small angel's eyes lit up. "Yeah! I've been dreaming about that all my life! I've always wanted to be like Mario!"
"Well, now," said the gentleman, and he leaned in close, yellow eyes glinting. "Perhaps... I could help you with that."
-------
There had been roast chestnuts, indeed. And there had been a goose, stuffed and cooked just the right way, with salt and butter rubbed in and helpings of cranberry sauce to go with it. There had been slow-cooked beef, and parsnips and roast potatoes, and a massive chocolate pudding with a molten centre that Pit would have poured brandy over and lit on fire, just like his mother and father used to do every year.
Whatever Pit put in front of him, went into the gaping, ear-to-ear maw within seconds. If the monstrous siren chewed, he did so in a very clumsy and impatient fashion, as if his teeth weren't built for it and it was but a mere distraction. The portions were liberal - somehow, Pit knew they had to be or there would have been trouble, although the sice of the mouth they went into was certainly a factor. And all the while, cold ice sat in the bottom of his churning stomach as he was forced to watch the disgusting beast in his home, sitting in his chairs, eating the food he made for him and his wife with his cutlery and china. He didn't know if he was feeling horror or anger
It was made worse by the monster's constant one-sided conversation.
"Worstest weather I've seen in years," he rumbled as he wolfed down a whole goose leg. "I don't know how folks can come and go in snow like this, unless they be north-bred!"
"Neither do I," mumbled Pit, pouring another helping of sherry.
"And them roads!" went on the creature as he licked up the chestnuts with a tongue the size of a bathmat. "So slick with ice, you could grease 'em up for a fish-fry! It's a miracle nobody done crashed yet!"
"It sure is," replied Pit, returning with another plate of goose.
"Still, some folks must enjoy it," shrugged the thing as he gulped the entire contents of the sherry bottle in one go. "They'll be bound to say 'What's Christmas without snow?' I tell you though, I'm much more of a summer fish - I'd rather have the dog days, with firebugs and bayou-mist, than all this cold."
"Me too," Pit managed to choke out, uncovering the pudding.
Truth be told, he was only answeringout of habit - mum had always said never to ignore someone trying to make conversation. But the presence of the monster was making him feel cold all over, like he'd been dunked in rancid swamp-water and left to hang. And he could tell his host knew was making him uncomfortable as every bite undid all of the afternoon's hard work, and was taking great pleasure in it. It wouldn't be so bad, if it had been a complete stranger - the angel would have then had the chance of kicking them out.
Except, Pit knew, this was no stranger.
When at last, the pudding was completely demolished, and the plate licked thoroughly clean, the beast settled back in a chair that creaked beneath his weight and let of a disgusting belch.
"Damn fine meal, that were," he grumbled. "I almost forgot what human cooking was like at this time o' year."
At that, a small spark of rebelliousness flared up. As much as Pit was scared and disgusted by the thing sitting in his house, he wasn't about to be a complete doormat about it all. He'd kept mostly silent as the monster had eaten, but that was because he wasn't sure wherever to be disgusted by the guest's lack of manners or frightened by what his presence meant. But now that the meal was over, and he didn't have to wait hand and foot on his enormous appetite, the angel now finally found the courage to say something.
"It was a treat for my wife," he grumbled, trying to sound annoyed.
The beast's yellow eyes lit up, and an awful belly-chuckled rolled forth. "Oh, that's right. You got yourself a beau now! Pretty, ain't she?"
"That's none of your business, Two-Coats," Pit snapped, now getting properly angry.
"And that's where you're wrong, boy." The creature hauled itself out of the seat and turned to face him, and the angel nearly wretched at the foul-smelling cloud of rot that washed over him. Horrible, discoloured teeth, like crooked knives, glinted in the light from the nearby Christmas tree, whilst taloned paws flexed in a sort of hungry anticipation. Pit suddenly decided that, at this moment, he was now very scared indeed, especially considering his guest was several feet taller than him, and loomed like a surly bull elephant trying to make up it's mind wherever to charge or not.
"See, I recall a little lost dove," the monster continued, "fluttering around in the dark with nowhere to go. I recall shaking hands, and taking him to where he could find his fortune and dreams.. And I especially recall tellin' him that someday, I'd come back to collect what I'm owed. You're only were you are because of me, and you only got what you wanted because you let me in! And when ol' Two-Coats comes to collect, he wants his payment up-front with no hassle, Peter Angelos."
Pit jerked back at the name, but didn't reply. The beast gave a deep, gutteral laugh at his expression, licking the jagged teeth in an almost ominous manner.
"So yes," he growled. "It's all my business. And I've come to collect, like I promised."
-------
"You mean," asked the very small angel, "that you could make me famous? But how would you do that?"
The very large gentleman laughed, and it was a gurgly laugh like thick swamp mud. "Boy, all the world's a river - and I'm it's king. Ain't no place I ain't been, and ain't no place I can't go again. If you like, I could take you out o' bein' poor, and put you where you belong - up in lights, all across the nation. Or maybe even the world?"
This sounded very promising to the very small angel, for he hated being poor, and always wanted to be as rich and famous as his heroes in Sintendo were. But he was smart enough to know that nothing every came for free, and his father was practical enough to teach him the value of things, and how to get the best deals for as little as possible. So even though the idea of becoming famous was extrenely tempting, the very small angel was also wondering how much this offer would cost him.
"That all sounds very good," he said at last, "but what will this cost me? I'm very poor, and I don't have any money."
"Oh, the price is a miniscule thing," said the very large gentleman. "See, I am what you might call appetite-focused, and I got... hungers, that ain't easy to satisfy. But no matter where it is I go, all those finest restaurants and establishments ain't never got a seat for me, you understand? So, I need good, honest folk like yourself to show a poor gentleman some kindness...
"...and let me in."
Now, the very small angel's only hunger was for sweets and chocolate and small things like that. So this price seemed too easy to agree to. And, moreover, he wasn't quite sure what the very large gentleman meant by "let me in", or anything else that he was talkimg about - it sounded like something his parents wouldn't approve of. But the gentleman spoke so sincerely, and his voice was so strangely smooth and honest-sounding, that for a moment the angel forgot to be suspicious, and decided he would at least see where this went.
And besides, he was very cross with his parents right now. They shouted and argued so much with each other they barely took any notice of him. Why should he care what they thought?
"I'm not quite sure what you're offering," he said, "but I accept."
The very large gentleman grinned, showing all his teeth.
"Then it's a bargain."
And before the very small angel could think, the very large gentleman opened his huge mouth and ate him up in one gulp!
-------
"Forget it."
Pit's fists were clenched, blue eyes glaring back at his ungracious guest-turned-assailant. "The food - which, I remind you, was a meal for my wife - should have been enough for you. Other than that, I don't owe you a thing, and if you think I'm handing over anything of mine to pay you off, you're wrong. I know what you are now, and I know how you work."
A grin of amusement. "Oh, do you?"
"Yes." Pit squared his shoulders and unfurled his wings. "I was young, and stupid. I didn't know what you are, and I thought I could trust you. But I've done my research since then, and I know you're nothing but a carnivore - a scavenger, preying on the weak and helpless. You set people up for their heart's desire, only to come knocking and rip it all away from them and leave them back where they started. And it's not food you want - it's misery, the agony of losing everything dear to them. That's what you feed on, isn't it?"
The beast's expression didn't change.
"But I'll tell you straight - you don't have any power over me now. Tell yourself what you want, but I didn't succeed because of you - I had to fight, tooth and nail, to get what I wanted. The Sintendo bit was easy enough, but everything else after that was my own struggle. I don't know what happened - maybe you forgot, maybe your power's gotten weaker with age - but nothing I've ever done is because of that bargain anymore. I'm free, and I don't have to listen to a damn word you say, no matter how hard you try to ruin my life.
"So, get out of my house, Two-Coats. Now."
....
"Wrong again, boy."
Pit blanched. "What?"
"Two-Coats ain't my name," smarmed the beast. "Try again."
Pit's head swam. What was this? What was this monster up to, trying to make it guess it's name like this? And why did this cold shiver come down his spine just then?
"Um... Undyne?" he tried.
"Second time wrong." An ominous gurgle sounded from somewhere within the creature. "One more time."
A cold sweat broke out on Pit's skin. Something was definitely wrong here, but there was no way he could get out of it - the thing was standing right there, expecting him to give an answer he possibly couldn't know. Maybe that had been the whole point - the thing was looking for other ways to get what it wanted, and this was it... But would would happen if he got it wrong? What was it the beast was after, if not the food...?
His mind grasped vaguely at the flimsiet straw he could reach.
"...Posiedon?"
Which snapped.
"THIRD TIME WRONG!" And with that, the monster distended his jaw, and Pit ducked down with a scream as a gigantic, pink slab of a tongue shot out from within the cavernous depths. Lashing like a snake, it swept once, twice, three times through the air, and then snapped back within the titanic mouth akin to a bungee cord at full stretch. The mouth closed, and the teeth crunched sharply as the beast began chewing upon whatever it was he had caught.
A horrible, cold sweat came over Pit, and he looked up.
All the Christmas things were gone. The tree, the tinsel, the baubles, the little gold candles he put up on the mantlepiece... even the brightly-wrapped gifts. He'd spent hous putting it all up, making sure it looked just right and that Okuu would be surprised and happy to see all of it. Most of those things were family heirlooms, owned by grandmas and great-grandads throughout the long line of angels that comprised his family. And the gifts, he'd picked out especially, because he knew the sort of things Okuu would want, and there was even a little jokey present he was sure she would laugh at. Barely four seconds had passed, and...
It was all gone.
Understanding hit Pit like an anvil, and he turned to the monster, who had finished chewing and was licking his lips.
"Now that," he gurgled, sadism lacing his voice, "left me satisfied."
Pit's legs buckled, and he collapsed on hands and knees to the floor as something akin to black despair washed over him. As he gasped for air, fighting the feeling that all the blood in his body was freezing over, he heard a sneering hiss from the corpulent creature looming over him.
"Cry if you want, boy," it drawled, "'cause you had the chance to walk away. But you let me in, and I ain't leavin' till I get what's due to me. Expect me back same time, every day, until you guess right, and each time you guess wrong, I take somethin' from you. And if you don't get it by Christmas Mornin'..."
The sentence was left to hang like a corpse on a gibbet as, with a belly laugh like a toad with smoker's lung, the monster turned and waddled it's way out of the room and down the corridor. Pit remained where he was, not even looking up until he heard the door slam, and the faint suggestion of whistling walking away from the house. When he did, he took in the pathetic sight before him - a table covered in empty, greasy dishes, an empty bottle of sherry and tattered hooks and holes where decorations once hung.
Then he folded up into the fetal position and began to weep.
-------
It was very dark, and very cramped. The very small angel had no idea what was happening at all - sometimes he felt like he was going forwards, sometimes upwards, and - most perculiarly, sideways as well. The very large gentleman must have been moving very fast indeed, and in a great hurry to get somewhere, but why, the angel didn't know. And he began to feel even more frightened than before, and wished that he'd never agreed to what the gentleman had said.
Just then, he felt the very large gentleman come to a stop somewhere, and he knew he'd stopped because he felt his feet touch down on a pavement. Then there was a coughing noise, and the next moment, the very small angel found himself sitting on the doorstep of his own very small home, right back at where he'd started on this strange adventure of his.
"Everything has been arranged," rumbled the gentleman. "You go right on in there, boy, and you'll find all your dreams are waitin' for ya. But just you remember - some day, I'll come back for what I'm owed. And you better be ready when I am."
"But how will you find me?" asked the angel, very confused. "It might be years and years before I end up famous. And I might not even live here anymore!"
The gentleman merely laughed. "Time's but another river, child, and I care not what water I swim in. Farewell to you."
Then the very large gentleman tipped his hat, turned and dived into the river that the angel had not seen before. And when he looked again, it wasn't there again.
Feeling very confused, he picked himself up and walked into his house, where his father and mother were sitting by the fireplace - and not, as he had last remembered, arguing with each other. They did not seem to have noticed he was gone at all, when they looked up - rather, they seemed quite pleased to see him.
"Ah, there you are!" said his father. "We're glad you came down, because your mother and I decided you might like this Christmas present a bit early!"
And he held up a white envelope, sealed with the symbol of the Sintendo corporation.
-------
And that was how Utsuho found him when she came to his house and, finding the door unlocked, came inside.
TO BE CONTINUED...
No comments:
Post a Comment