Monster One-Shots

Space Pirate

    “Space pirate.”

    “What is a space pirate?” Pret asked.

    “Do ye know what a pirate is?” Lachlan asked.

    She scoffed. “Well of course.”

    “Well I’m a pirate but in space.”

    “What do you want with me?” she challenged.

    He glanced back at the woman—decked in a ball gown and tiara—behind the plexiglass screen. “Don’t know if ye’ve realised this, but ye’re a princess.”

    “So?” she huffed.

    “Princesses are worth a lot of money,” he informed her.

    “I have more worth than just being a pretty, little princess,” she snapped.

    He smirked. “I’ll make sure t’tell m’buyer that, and maybe he’ll pay me more fer ye.”

    She paused. “Buyer?”

    “Princesses are worth a lot of money,” he repeated.

    She leaned against the back wall and sank down to the ground. The frills of her gown splayed down around her.

    “So you’re a human trafficker.”

    “Space pirate,” he corrected, “I steal valuables. He’ll probably just put ye in a display or somethin’.”

    “I’m not a valuable. I’m a person.” Pret snapped.

    “I’ll tell that t’m’buyer too, and see what he has t’say,” Lachlan jeered.

    “You’re an asshole,” Pret sneered back.

    “Actually, I’m a fae,” Lachlan replied cheekily.

    “What?”

    “I was makin’ a joke. I know ye’re too serious and royal t’ get those.”

    “I got it was a joke, dumbass. It just wasn’t funny.” Pret rolled her eyes. “You’re a fae?”

    Lachlan dumbfoundedly whipped around and outstretched his gold-feathered wings. He also flicked the side of one of his horns.

    “I don’t know what that little dance was, but it told me nothing.”

    “Yes, I’m a fae!” Lachlan hissed.

    “So the faes didn’t go extinct after the Vatians took over the Harp planet,” Pret observed, “How did you escape?”

    “Stole one o’ their ships, loaded as many others as I could, and zoomed off t’the nearest planet.”

    “I’m so sorry. That must’ve been awful.” Pret softened.

    Lachlan shrugged. “I lived.”

    “Let me out, and we can talk about it,” Pret instructed.

   Lachlan snorted. “Nice try.”

   “I’m not trying to pull anything. You’re obviously suppressing emotions about the event through humor, and you need to talk about it.”

    “Why would ye want t’help me?” Lachlan challenged.

    Pret gave him a pretty smile. “This might be a new concept to you, but not everyone is a dickhead like you.”

    “Let me guess. Ye’re one o’ those royals who thinks so highly of herself that she believes she can solve every problem.” Lachlan countered.

    “Fine. I won’t help you then,” Pret muttered.

    “No, no. Therapy is expensive. I’ll let ye play Princess.” Lachlan offered, smacking a button that lifted the plexiglass screen up, “Besides, what harm can ye do? Shank we with yer tiara.”

    Pret fixed him with a pointed look before gathering herself to her feet and curtly waddling over to Lachlan.

   “Tell me about it,” Pret instructed.

   “What do ye want t’know about it? Assholes came in, made concentration camps, slaughtered a bunch of people I know, and built trading posts over their corpses.” Lachlan murmured.

    “I’m sorry.”

    “Ye didn’t do it,” Lachlan evaded, looking down at his hands.

    In one fluid motion, Pret unsheathed a dagger from under her dress. She slid it right under his throat.

    “Ah. Were ye sorry for that or for the slaughter of m’ friends and family?” Lachlan asked.

    “Both,” Pret admitted, “But I’m going to have to ask you to go sit in the cage while I turn this ship around, or I’ll have to kill you.”

    “Huh. Where were ye keepin’ that knife?” Lachlan questioned.

    “I have a strap on my upper, left thigh. I never go out without it because of people like you.” Pret smiled. “Now go.”

    Pret removed the knife, pushed him forward, and put the knife to the back of his neck. He slowly walked over to the plexiglassed area. When he was in, Pret quickly pressed the button that closed the plexiglass.

    “Now continue,” Pret instructed as she worked on rerouting the ship.

    “What”? Lachlan huffed.

    “Continue talking about what happened,” Pret instructed, “Just because I used it as a ploy to get back home doesn’t mean I didn’t want to help you through it.”