(((((This is one of my weird O.C.'s from another one of my fudged up dreams. I think this O.C. and his story, like Nothing (who doesn't have a real story yet), have the potential to be a Creepypasta. So yeah, enjoy Balloon Master's background story and his first kill and stuff! Balloon Master's original name was George......))))
"George," Mitchell said, motioning for the young boy to come over to him. George slowly walks over, not knowing what his father would have wanted at such an early hour. He had been asleep in his bed, the old restaurant not supposed to open for another few hours and school starting not much sooner than that. George looked up at his dad, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. One green, one indigo.
"George, the balloon guy quit," Mitchell said slowly, "You're going to have to stay home from school and work as the balloon guy until I can find a replacement." "But I need to study for Senior Finals," George complained, trying not to get mad at his dad. Mitchell narrowed his eyes at George, saying sharply, "Well you're just gonna habe to skip today." Letting out a low growl, George muttered, "Why don't you just get robots to do the work like that Pizzeria across the street?" As soon as the words came out of his mouth, George knew he said the wrong thing.
His dad's face scrunched up in a scowl, yelling, "BECAUSE WE AREN'T STUCK UP LIKE THOSE PEOPLE, OKAY?!?" George closed his eyes, seeing his dad's hand raise up as if he was about to get smacked. "No go get ready to open up shop," Mitchell said in a dark voice, using his raised hand to shove George across the room towards the staircase leading downstairs.
George nodded quickly, rushing down the stairs to the room where the balloon guy usually got ready. He saw the pile of makeup equipment that the balloon guy used. Pinning back his raggedy black hair, George began putting on the costume makeup, desperately trying to remember how the balloon guy always did his makeup. But with his hands shaking uncontrollably, he was unable to make any clear markings on his skin. Sitting down the makeup tool he was holding, he held onto the counter and took a few deep breaths before looking into the mirror in front of him.
He stared at his reflection, feeling this empty pit in his stomach. He didn't remember his father hitting him any time recently, but there was clearly a dark bruise on his cheek, circling back and surrounding his eye. Starring at his reflection for a while longer, George got an idea of what the balloon guy's makeup had looked like. A bright green around his eyes, purple cheeks, and a big red grin. Making sure his hand had stopped shaking first, George brought the makeup tool to his face again. This time perfectly making the makeup prints.
Once he was done, he took a step back to get a better look at his finished makeup work. It looked perfect! He smiled a bit, the red grin on his face growing bigger than before. Unpinning his hair, he started doing random poses in the mirror. He cooled creepy cool in that costume makeup! Better than he ever did with his bruised face.
The bell to the front door of the restraurant rang, letting George know someone had just walked in. Peeking out of the room, he saw a little girl andbher mother waiting by the sign that said "PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED." George smiled more, slowly walking o greet the two people. When the little girl saw him, she jumped a bit. But the jump of surprise quickly faded to a smile of pure joy. George laughed a bit, turning around the side to the visible side read "PLEASE TAKE A SEAT."
"Welcome," George said, smiling down at the little girl, "And what can I do to help out two pretty little ladies?" The mother covered her mouth, letting out a teenage giggle. "Oh, nothing much," the mother said, her voice almost a purr, "My daughter loves this place, and she just had to come here before her doctor's appointment. She couldn't resist!"
"I know the feeling," George lied, keeping the fake smile plastered on his face. Knealing down to look the little girl in her eyes, he said, "You know, we don't open for another two hours." George watched as the little girl's face fell into a frown, so he quickly came up with something else. "But you know what?," he continued, "For such a big fan, you can come on in and have a seat. I'll go get the cook to fix you something up."
The little girl smiled, nodding excitedly. "So my name's Miley," the girl giggled, smiling. "Well Miley, I have a special balloon just for you," George laughed, jogging into the balloon room to find what he needed. He looks over his shoulder, saying, "So what's your favorite color, Miley?" "Blue," she said, replying almost immediately after he asked. George grabbed a blue balloon, taking it down and using the drawing supplies so neatly draw her name onto the balloon with bubble letters and cute designs.
When he was done, he walked out, ignoring the feel of the balloon ribbons as they brushed against his neck. He was near the table, handing the balloon to Miley, when something tightened around his neck. He gasped, being thrown into the air violently as the balloons above his snagged onto the overhead fan. The balloon ribbons, which had been brushing against his neck, had tangled around his neck and the balloons getting caught in the whirling blades of he fan.
George heard Miley and her mother scream, the sound hurting his ears as he struggled to undo the balloon ribbons. As the fan spun around, he spun with it, circling around above the table. He was kicking and gasping for breath, feeling as if someone was choking him. As his vision started to go away, he suddenly fell out of the ribbons grasp, collapsing onto the table below. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the fan had fallen behind him, laying on the floor next the table. He gasped for breath, looking up to see a horrified look on Miley's face, her light brown eyes wide with horror. A trail of blood ran down her face from a cut on her forehead, probably from the fan hitting her as it fell.
Behind Miley and her mom, George saw his dad scowling at him. Lowering his head, George told Miley and her mom quietly, "I think it would be better for everyone of you two leave." Without being told another word, Miley and her mother left. As the door closed, George curled up into a ball, hearing his dad's footsteps thundering closer to him. "You little bitch," Mitchell growled. George looked up slowly, only to see his dad's hand flying towards him.
The entire right side of George's face stung, nearly burning with pain once his dad finally walked away. Stomped, more than walked. He watched his dad walk off, making sure he was all the way upstairs before getting off of the table. Untangling the ribbons from the van, he walked to the makeup room, not bothering with untangling the balloons from his neck. In the makeup room, he stared in the mirror. The makeup from the right side of his face was smeared off, clearly revealing a large bruised handprint on his face. Nothing new about Mitchell hitting George, but something was different about this time.
His right eye (his green one) had changed. The pupil was still there, but the iris and the white space of his eye was replaced with a bloody red. He blinked that eye, only to flinch and yelp when his whole head hurt. Slowly opening that eye again, he watched the mirror to see a few lines of blood drip down from it. His eyeball was bleeding from how hard his father hit him. And the bruise from where his father's hand made contact was starting to leak a bit of blood as well.
He stared at it, simply looking at it making him hurt everywhere. Feeling dizzy, he went out of the bathroom to go take a seat at one of the tables. On his way, he started to stumble. Something was making him unable to walk right. The room started to spin, so he decided to walk a bit faster. As he walked, he heard something flutter against the fan above his head. Thinking nothing of it, he continued walking, only to feel something tighten around his neck as he was flung up into the air.
(((((Yes, readers, the all-red eyethingisrealandcanhappen. Andno, thisisNOTFUCKINGBALLOONBOY, ASMYFRIENDATSCHOOLWANTEDTOCALLHIM!!! Andbytheway, inthisreallyweirddream, ImyselfwasGeorgeandeverythingthatItalkaboutnexthappenedinthedreaminexactdetail!!!))))
George woke up on the floor, seeing nothing around him but blackness. He sat and waited for his eyes to adjust to the light, slowly seeing the walls of the restaurant form in the darkness. Rubbing his head in confusion, he slowly looked up, only to see his own corpse hanging from the spinning ceiling fan above him. The balloons had gotten tangled in a different fan, an judging by the angle of his neck, it had been broken.
He growled, rubbing his fingers across his neck to feel the ribbons resting there still. He tried digging the ribbons away from him, but it seemed that they were part of his skin. Getting up to make sure, he went to the closest mirror and looked in. Yes, the ribbons were there, but they looked like they were part of his skin if they weren't already. He kept trying to take the ribbons off, but nothing worked. They were stuck on his neck, as far as he could tell.
And the most annoying part was the balloons, bobbing around in the air behind him. Most of them were clearly popped or deflated, but they still floated up as if full of helium. Then there's the fact that the smeared makeup and bruise were still there. One of the balloons bobbed in front of his face, so he instinctively swatted it away and yelled, "GET AWAY FROM ME!"
To his surprise, the balloon seemed to listen as it moved away from him. All of the balloons did. Thinking he was imagining it, he decided to test it out. Pointing at a popped red balloon, he said, "You there, come herento float in front of me. Only you." Just as he said it, the popped red balling floated in front of him. George smiled, not understanding what was going on. Was he controlling the balloons?
Walking out of the room, he looked at all of the balloons around the dining area. He pointed at a few of them, whooshing his hands around. Those balloons came closer to him, following the movement of his hands. He laughed a bit, making all of the balloons float and twirl to his own will. And then a certain balloon passed by him. A blue balloon, the name Miley written on it. He froze still, all of the balloons doing the same. Staring at the balloon, he felt something strange. She didn't take her balloon with her.
He reached out for the balloon, stopping when footsteps echoed around the room. Turning to look a the noise, he saw his dad lumbering down the stairs. He looked up, his eyes immediately resting on George's corpse as it swung from the ceiling fan. Mitchell's eyes widened, looking like he was in disbelief. "George, no....." he whispered, falling to his knees. George rolled his eyes, watchingbhis dad. He didn't believe it. How could he?
As he watched his dad, he thought of the balloon ribbons suffocating his dad. He smiled at the thought, unaware of the ribbons in the back room slithering across the floor towards Mitchell. He nor Mitchell saw them until after they wrapped around Mitchell's legs, working their way up the rest of him. Mitchell screamed, clearly frightened. When George saw them, he just smiled. His dad was finally getting what he deserved.
The ribbons worked their way up, wrapping around his neck and tightening. Mitchell tried to tug the ribbons off, desperate to get away as they tightened. (If you've ever gotten a ribbon stuck around any part of your body, you know how hard it is to break those stupid things!) George laughed a bit, crouching down in front of him and watching his dad suffocate slowly. "Tighter," he whispered, the ribbons tightening even more to the point they began cutting through hi neck. "Tighter," George whispered again, "tighter still." They cut deeper and deeper, until the point Mitchell's head was only attached by the neck bone. And by that time, he was way past dead.
Staring at his dad's near a decapitated head, he held out his hand behind him. A ribbon curled around it loosely, tying itself in a neat bow around his wrist. Glancing at the balloon, he saw it was the balloon with Miley's name on it. He smiled at it, standing up. Looking back at all of the balloons, he yelled at them, "Lead me to Miley. I need to give her balloon to her." On his command, half of the balloons made a trail shape. The other half wrapped around him, picking him up. The sun outside had gone down, so no one would be able to see all the balloons.
After about half an hour of floating down the empty roads, the balloons halted in front of a small two-story house. George stared at it, realizing for the first time that he could see clearly in the dark. He gazed up at the windows, seeing all of them covered with flowery curtains except for one that had blue curtains. Pointing to the window, George leaned back into the balloons, being lifted up to the second story window. As he got closer, he saw that the window was open. The balloons carried him in, quickly retreating back out the window as his feet touched the ground.
George looked at Miley, slightly sad to see that she was sleeping. Walking over to her bed, he whispered, "Miley, are you awake?" Miley stirred in her bed, sitting up and muttering, "Mommy? Is that you?" George froze, wondering how Miley heard him, if she heard him at all. "You forgot your balloon," George whispered, slowly moving towards him. Miley gasped, sitting up quickly and turning on the light next to her bed. George froze, seeing a medical bandage wrapped around Miley's head that hadn't been there this morning. Miley looked horrified, trying to back away from him.
Seeing that she was about to fall off of the bed, George gasped, wavingbhis ham toward her and commanding some balloons to catch her fall. They did so, cushioning her and bouncing her back onto her bed. "Miley," George said quietly, "It's just me. I'm here to give you your balloon." Miley narrowed her eyes at him, whispering, "Did you get hurt?" George nodded slowly, moving to stand at the end of her bed. "Who hurt you?," she asked, kicking the covers off of her and crawling down to the foot of her bed.
George flinched away not knowing what would happen if she touched him. Would her hand go through? Would it rest against his skin? Miley saw him flinch, but didn't seem too affected by it. She reached her hand out, gently resting it against the bruised side of his cheek. "Man mister," Miley whispered, "You're really really cold!" George nodded, not used to anyone doing anything but hitting him. "Did you die?," Miley asked, catching George off guard.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, George nodded slowly, moving away from Miley. Miley sat down, watching George move away. "I'm not scared of you," Miley whispered, "if that's what you're afraid of." Moving back to lay down in her bed, Miley continued, "There's a chair by the door if you want to sit down." She pointed towards the door, to a rocking chair propped up against the wall. George nodded, saying, "Okay, I will." At the sound of his voice, Miley sat up again, saying, "You can talk? What's your name?"
"My name's George," he said, laughing a bit, "And of course I can talk." As he walked over to the chair, he heard Miley mutter, "Whoa." Turning to look at her, he saw that she was looking at the balloons tied to his neck. "Are those stuck there?," she asked, here face in awe. Picking up the chair, George nodded again, saying, "Yeah," carrying the chair next to her bed and sitting it down on the ground.
Taking a seat, George looked over at Miley, seeing her sitting up in bed staring at him. "Your eye," she whispered, "I-I didn't see your eye until now." George reached up slowly, resting his hand over his eye. "Yeah, I guess I got hit too hard," he said, turning away from her. She nodded, staying quiet for a while before asking, "Did balloons keep me from falling? When you came in here, I mean?"
George tensed up, wondering how to answer without freaking Miley out. He thought for a minute, finally saying, "You wanna see something cool?" Miley nodded, smiling at him. Smiling back, George pointed at the open window. No sooner, a ton of balloons flew into the room, swirling around as if carried by a tornado. Then George pointed at Miley, and the balloons surrounded her, lifting her off of the bed. She squealed a bit, seeming both excited and amazed.
Jus then, someone knocked on the bedroom door, and George froze in place as Miley's mother's voice came from the other side. "Miley, are you okay?," she said, knocking on the door more. George made the balloons sit Miley down gently on her bed, commanding the balloons to carry him out the window. As he left, he heard Miley get out of bed and run to the window. "You'll come back tomorrow, right?," she asked. Standing up on the balloons, he nodded, smiling. "If you want, kiddo," he answered, the balloons continuing to carry him away.
(((((Okay, so this is part one, I will continue this mini story here at a later time. If you enjoy this, I might actually draw him. Or even add him into the story. Third reality, though!!! Only third reality, though! HAH! Not-so-hard choice, right?!? Anyways, I'll continue this further into the story. Hope you enjoyed my O.C. mini story while I'm waiting for more votes on which reality to do!!!)))))