Random Short Stories/Written Ideas

Speak Its Name, and It Shall Appear

Shane, despite having one of the roughest nights of his life trying to get his new... Roommate to stay out of his room, was working diligently. He was currently restocking the shelves, while simultaneously trying to ignore the itching sensation of being watched.

And the hot breath that occasionally brushed against his neck.

He couldn't see it, but he knew it was there. He'd told it that, if it wanted to follow him around everywhere, it would need to stay out of sight.

It, conveniently enough, revealed that it could... Cloak itself for a certain period of time. This opened a whole new door of endless suffering for Shane.

"Shit," he swore. His elbow had knocked against a can of chips, which immediately sent it tumbling off the shelf. He expected to hear it clatter against the hard floor, but there was no such sound. Only the light "thwomp" of it being caught in a large hand that wasn't visible to him, giving the illusion that the can was floating. It was gently set back down on the shelf and nudged further back so that it wouldn't fall again.

"...Thanks?" He wasn't sure what to feel. Grateful? Intimidated? Nervous at just how close it was?

He received no response, only caught the slightest inkling of the sound of breathing before he got back to work. He worked in silence for the next fifteen minutes, moving down the aisle. The only sounds that filled the silence were the squeaking of his shoes, and the scraping of claws against the tiles.

Unfortunately, fifteen minutes were all he got until he heard the telltale marching of the towns resident Karen heading right down his aisle. 

He stiffened up. This could only go badly. 

If the dark bags under his eyes didn't hint at how pulled thin his patience might be today (due to a lack of proper sleep), then maybe the withering glare he leveled on the woman who was quickly approaching him did. She either didn't notice, or she completely ignored it.

Her child was being dragged along behind her, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"You there! Where is your bread?" She immediately demanded.

He was immediately reminded of the first time she'd demanded the location of an item.

"Aisle 6, ma'am." The few words he'd said were clipped and short. He was already irritated with her.

Shane returned to his restocking of the shelf, trying to avoid paying any attention to the presences both beside and behind him.

The impatient clearing of a throat had him whipping around again. 

"Ma'am, is there something else that you need?" 

She gasped, hand lifting to press against her chest in a show of offense. "How dare you speak to me like that. Do you even know who I am?"

"Am I supposed to?" The words had slipped out before he could stop them. He was too tired to put up with this today, and he knew his coworkers would feel the same about this rude woman.

Her eyes widened, and she scoffed, gripping her son's hand. "Come on, baby. Let's get away from this... This..." Her eyes roamed him, clearly searching for anything she could use against him.

She must have spotted, and recognized, the pin fastened to his uniform.

"This Devil worshipper." She spat out.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose in reaction to the hand that pressed itself against his front. He could feel the arm it was attached to curling around him, leading to the body behind him. Despite the very visibly (to him) growing temper it had, Cornu still hadn't shown itself. It was giving him the chance to fend for himself.

And fend for himself, he did.

"At least the deity I worship answers my prayers!" He called after her, eyes narrowed in displeasure.

The low snarl behind him rattled the shelves. Shane swore it sounded more like Cornu was pleased by his words, but also infuriated by her blatant disrespect.

He had never seen someone run so fast in his life. The child, at least, looked back in wonder at whatever had made such a noise before they disappeared around the end of the aisle.

Shane continued to glare at where she'd been, anger-induced heat setting his face aflame, and his heart thumping wildly against his ribcage. She constantly harassed and badgered him and his coworkers. Even the managers of the store knew to avoid her at all costs, and that she spewed only bullshit. Her hell spawn was at least the opposite of a hell spawn. 

The tips of sharp claws gently scraped against his uniform, just above his chest, as the arm that was slung around him was retracted. He thought he was now free to work in peace but was immediately proven wrong by the light (yet somewhat harsh) poke his back received. 

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Let's just get back to work."

God, he'll never get used to that.