Random Barnaby Oneshots (A Wattpad Fanfiction)

Smother Me

Warning, death by pillow. Reader discretion advised. Wait, hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo, why do I put this here? Oh right, some readers don't think death is fun. My sincerest apologies... But why are you reading this if death scares you? I'm a ghost owl who just wants you to join my party. -Baron Barnaby Yenschuf

The Barnaby manor is quiet... Too quiet. The reason why is because Barnaby is mad about an annoying human named Emma entering his manor... Again. This time, he decided to tackle the issue head on. He caught the pale skinned, ugly, fat human in his wine cellar. What else is new? Barnaby wondered as he preened his feathers. He approached Emma. "This is the fourth time you are caught stealing wine." He hooted, indignant.

She turned her head and replied, "Wine time!" Then she had the audacity to ask, "What are your views on guns and American health care?"

"None of your business." Barnaby shot back, his feathers already ruffled. He started wishing that Ali was here. He straightened out his bowtie with a huff of anger. Then something crossed his mind. Something devious... He smiled creepily. "What would your mother think if she saw you?" He asked, clipping a wing against her lip.

"My mother is an Oxford professor, and my father is a lawer. She is Dutch, he is Spanisg." She replied even though Barnaby knew that her father was British and that her mother was of African descent (albeit distantly). Barnaby rolled his swirling eyes out of irritation, his face rearranging itself so that his mouth is on the side of his head. Unnecessary information. Useless info. He straightened his waistcoat and was about to try again when Emma said, "My mother believes it is wine time. And since this stupid manor is abandoned-"

Barnaby interrupted in a fit of whimsical owl giggling, "Little girl, this manor is haunted, hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo!" He preened his feathers, since he knows that this particular girl is an atheist.

"That stupid girl Alison said the same thing. She called my mom a (redacted slur used against a certain race of people that the author is legally not allowed to say). After this wine, I am going to have some creative (redacted) with Chablis and Turing." She replied smugly. "I don't believe in such fairy tales."

That sent Barnaby into a boiling rage, and he was ready to throw up. He flew out of his manor and teleport himself to STH Academy, fuming. He flew, his eleven foot tall frame glowing purple. He glanced around and found a familiar blue haired girl doodling. He stepped in front and yanked the sketch pad out of her hands. "Hey! Give it back, you ass- Barnaby!? I thought you were mad at me! What brings you here?" He heard a familiar voice ask softly.

He brought himself down to eye level and glared at the blue haired girl with green eyes. "Alison." He said sternly, his voice high pitched from rage. "Did you truly call Emma's mother a certain slur used against certain people of a specific dark skin tone? Be honest!" He snapped the last part.

He can see one emotion fly across her freckled face: shock. Meaning that she definitely didn't say such a thing. "No, I would never-!" Barnaby exhaled, holding a talon to her black lipsticked mouth.

"Your face told me the truth. You didn't say such a thing. I thank you for your honesty. And Alison," he added, his glowing eyes forcing full eye contact, "You should have told me that you can shapeshift into a ghost. I'm not angry, just disappointed. Now excuse me while I take care of serious business." He added, affectionately brushing a blue streak of hair out of her face using his wing. He felt like Ali deserved to fall back into his good graces. She hugged him (or rather, his leg). He gently pushed her off. "I'll be back." He promised, smushing his face against her cheek.

Then he flew to Emma. As he suspected, Barnaby heard sounds that made him gag. He can hear a bed creaking and moans. He wondered, How can a depraved individual think of doing something so disgusting? He chokes back the urge to vomit. Then, at midnight, it ends. He entered the room and wrinkled his beak in disgust. Barnaby then took this opportunity to grab a pillow. Perfect for smothering. He hooted softly, causing Emma to wake up. Her shit brown eyes are on him. He detached his head and dangled it in front of her.

"Are you here for the hot (redacted)?" She asked, licking her lips in a disgusting manner.

He hooted almost maniacally. "Actually I'm here for your death." He replied. The room is dark, but his eyes illuminated the room with a haunting glow. He can see Emma become scared. Just the way I prefer it. He thought to himself with a grin, putting his head back on his shoulders. He quickly pinned her down and smothered her in the most disgusting pillow he could find. He pressed his weight against her head, watching the disgusting wench struggle feebly. He knew that he had to ban her from his party again. He heard her muffled screams become silent after six minutes. He giggled as she stopped breathing. Barnaby preened himself over the disgusting bawd's dead body.

He got up and stretched himself, then he flew off back to his party with a hooting laugh. He found a few Barnaboos engrossed in a particularly interesting game of Cribbage. He perched on a tomb and watched as the game continued to unfold.

Okay, maybe I should have a word with Barnaby about how it isn't exactly ethical to get mortals to join his party. No thanks whatsoever goes to Peskyemma. But a resounding salute to Dishyy- for giving me inspiration. And to whoever wrote "A Million Gruesome Ways to Die". So a resounding thank you to Black Gryph0n, composer of the song and Barnaby's voice actor... But I highly doubt he would read this.