A small smile played at my lips and I started for the kitchen, snagging my coat on the way. Yes, I think it’s time I build a snowman. “And I’m going to need a coffee the size of my butt to get me going to actually do it.”
CHAPTER 4
Stepping back, I eyed my handiwork, chortling like a twelve year old. Pulling out my phone, I snapped a few pictures, grinning as my over-endowed, anatomically correct snowman grinned back. Snorting to myself, I snapped a few more, including myself in a few, saving them all to send to Joanie later, once I had reception.
I was ever so thankful yet again for that quick stop in at that small mom and pop shop on my way into town, more so now than ever, I thought as I stared at the pointy, prominent carrot nose my “happy” snowman sported.
Now, that snow boner? One hundred percent snowman, a thousand percent overdone, already iced over dong. Joanie was going to bust a gut laughing when she got my pics.
“Maybe I shoulda let her tag along,” I admitted ruefully. She always did find a way to turn the negative into a positive, or torture me into forgetting about my troubles.
There was an odd chuffing from the woods behind me, I noticed as I slipped my phone back into my pocket. Probably the same deer from earlier back for more carrots. I’d run out, feeding it every last one but the one on my delighted snow friend.
Strange that Bambi’s less cutesy cousin was running around in weather like this, but the thing had been awfully jumpy, taking off as soon as all my snacks were gone. I’d been thankful, in that moment, that there was no back fence, just a backyard full of nature and God’s creatures, greenery, trees, bushes, plants, pinecones, everywhere. It was lovely.
Turning, I went to empty out my pockets as if to prove my lack of carrot-ness to an animal that wouldn’t understand the gesture anyway, my mouth dropping open in a silent O as a large bear came lumbering out instead.
Frozen in place, I didn’t know what to do. I was so city it was sick. Do I play dead? Stop, drop, and roll? Scream and run? Shout stranger danger? Hell if I knew!
The bear chuffed, squinting at me, snuffling the air noisily as his big black nose wrinkled animatedly.
“N-n-nice bear,” I mumbled, taking small but hesitant steps back, that much closer to the back door.
The bear made a noise in its throat and chuffed again, shuffling closer. What I wouldn’t do for some carrots to toss right now. Darned greedy deer. Stamping its foot again, the noise came again, louder, and I swear I thought I might wet myself.
Knees shaking, I vaguely recalled something about pretending to fall, faint, or dying or something when dealing with bears. I was so fuzzy-brained, trying not to outright freak out, it wasn’t even funny, I couldn’t think—couldn’t move. Right then the bear’s head whipped to the side and it pawed at the ground, fur bristling at something—what, I didn’t know—growling, and reared up.
An ear splitting roar bellowed from the animal’s throat, and that’s when I whimpered and my knees gave out.
I didn’t realize it, but I was screaming right along with that horrible noise, all the way up until it really took notice of me, slammed its front paws down into the ground, and prepared to charge.
Crawling back towards the house through the mud, muck, and mushy snow, I babbled nonsense, tears streaming down my face as I completely lost all reason.
Of course, the bear didn’t understand any of this—it was a bear—but you couldn’t have gotten that through my thick skull right that moment, no matter how hard you tried.
I was looking death right in the eyes as the bear made its move, my insignificant life flashing before me, my last words to be nothing more than mumbled apologies for that time I didn’t return the Predator VHS to that rental place, and the incident where I may or may not have accidentally glued Joanie’s eyelids shut with eyelash glue, possibly, maybe, kinda, sorta, in a vengeful, petty, fit of pique.
Thick, black nostrils flaring, its hot breath steaming in the cold winter air, this was it.
“Heeeeellllppp!” Something twisted in my gut and I shot up, legs pumping as I tripped my way to the door.
The bear was already charging across the way, horrible noises issuing from its throat, but I had to try.
“Help!” I screamed. “I don’t wanna d-i-i-i-i-i-e!”
Something raked across the back of my jacket, skimming the fabric, slicing through it like it was nothing. Arms flailing, I screeched, terrified of what would surely come next, but then there was nothing.
A flash of white shot across, catching my attention through the corner of my eye. White slammed into brown and the bear roared out in rage, and then suddenly the giant ball of angry fur was flying off to the side.
Shrieking like a banshee, I shot forward, cursing colorfully. A leap and four stumbling steps and my knees were slamming the bottom porch steps. Scrambling up more than half of them before I paused, I couldn’t scurry out of the way fast enough.
They tumbled, whatever had counterattacked the bear, sparing my life, rolling, but I’d turned around to run, desperate to escape, and hadn’t bothered to look back. Living was higher on my agenda than witnessing the King Kong of bears wrestle my sudden savior.
Taking those last few steps two at a time, almost face planting on the back porch as my foot caught and I tripped myself up, I rushed inside on all fours, uncaring how ridiculous I looked so long as I reached safety, to shoot up, slam the door closed, and bolt it.
Not sure what could keep a bear out, I started piling shit in front of the back and front door, anything heavy I could find. A small writing table, a hat stand, a box of junk from the closet, it didn’t matter, I shoved, pushed, dragged it over, tossing it all in a heap.
Once one door was about covered, I worked on the other, panicking as I rambled to myself. I didn’t know how well that worked for the windows, just hoped they weren’t smart enough to try.
The sounds of the battle outside raged on, the bear and the other creature, something huge and white, possibly another bear, grew louder.
Peeking out through the kitchen window as I heard a sickening thud, I gaped as a giant, bipedal creature lifted the bear up, tossing it back the way it had come. The bear snarled as it flew, furry bear legs wind-milling wildly through the air, landing with a solid, jarring thump.
Eyes wide, hand to my lips, I was sure it was dead. The giant, furred creature roared something at the bear, stomping its foot and roaring again, until the bear jerked its head up, letting off a wounded noise. As the shaggy bear rolled to its feet, the white furred creature snarled viciously, making as if to rush the startled animal, but the bear grunted, retreating and rushing off like its bum was on fire.
“Polar bear,” I told myself. “That’s what it was—is. A polar bear. A giant, fluffy assed, upright, humanoid polar bear… with opposable thumbs and stuff… Yup.”
Throwing its head back, the white furred creature roared triumphantly, beating its chest with heavy thumps, the sound it let loose shaking the windows. All I could do was stand there and stare, shaken, jaw slack as the creature slowly lowered its head.
Sniffing loudly, long, pale, wide nose crinkling up much like the bears had, his unsettling, black gaze paused on the back door, shifting, scanning the back of the cabin, until finally settling on the back window—or more importantly me—his gaze unerringly meeting mine.
The creature’s lips moved. It spoke and I stilled, gasping out a breath as he chuffed and jerked his chin, rumbling something in that impossibly deep, animalistic voice of his. He said it again, and I mouthed the words, blinking as my lips formed them. Mine.
He kept saying it, tossing a hand out in a motion for me to come to him that couldn’t mean anything else. He said his words, over and over, even as I stumbled back and dropped down, hiding myself from view. What’s his? Me? My skin prickled and fear shot through me. His? His for what?!
˜˙˜*˜˙˜
Poking my head up, I snuck another peek. This time the beast was studying my snowman, circling
it, sniffing at it curiously, examining the finer aspects of my snow sculpting skills. Brows crinkling, he made to stand next to it, head tilting to the side as he frowned down at Hector the well-endowed snowman’s enormous shlong.
Grunting, he glanced down the length of his torso, stopping at the juncture of his own thighs, then the snowman. Rocking back a little on his heels, gripping a long stump of fur between his legs, he frowned, his gaze darting back and forth from Hector to his appendage.
Swallowing audibly, I watched as he pulled an impossibly long foreskin back, exposing a huge monster of a snowy white pale, blue and thickly veined, fatly rounded-tipped, bulbous cock. Shivering visibly, the hair on his shoulders and forearms stood on end as a shudder wracked his huge frame. Inhaling deeply, he muttered something, rolling his shoulders, sharp teeth gritting as his eyes closed briefly and he squeezed the base of his insane looking dick.
Okay, so… not a stump. That’s his junk. Is he… jerking off to my snowman?
“Holy Moses,” I muttered, cheeks flaming pink as the beast’s gaze whipped up, narrowing at my words, his eerie, dark gaze once again finding mine.
Eyes widening, I felt trapped in those terrifying eyes, unable to look away.
Glancing over at the snowman, he snarled, his lips pulling back to make an angry noise. Dropping his manhood, meaty hands fisting, he crouched down, twitching as he squared off with poor old Hector the cocky frosty, knocking his poor little snowmanly man parts clean off with a quick swipe and a heavy roar. That wasn’t enough as he proceeded to decimate my poor snow buddy, until there was nothing left.
Mine, he mouthed the words, his upper lip curling up as he chuffed over the small pile of Hector that was left.
Turning to face me, giant anaconda still out on full display, the beast stood to his full height, chest puffing out, legs splayed wide, and growled low. Sputtering at his preening and, well, it, I squealed and ducked back down, heart pounding hard enough in my chest to beat right out of my breast.
“Oh… my god. I saw it. It saw me. I mean, he saw me. Not his penis! Not that it. Not his monstrous- Oh god.” Clutching my thick flannel shirt through the opening of my jacket tight enough to choke myself, I shook my head vigorously, rambling nonsense. “He kicked Hector’s pecker off!” Stifling a hysterical squeak bordering on a squeal, I sat there flapping my arms, reminding myself to breathe.
Glancing at the broken dishwasher, I wailed at the inanimate object, “Why couldn’t you have just eaten me like a regular fudged up corny flick, huh? I said messed up, not deranged!” Realizing I was hyperventilating, black spots dancing before my eyes, I focused on breathing and nothing else until it passed. I tried to, at any rate.
More time passed, the worst of my panic attack passing, and I scrounged up enough chicken guts to venture another peek. “This can’t be happening. I’m hallucinating. I- I have to be,” I said aloud, if only to convince myself.
Fingertips gripping the countertop, pulling myself up by my arms, I popped up, forcing myself to look, and came face to face with the beast himself, his wide, squared face pressed close to the window, his wide nose mashed up against what I hoped was thick glass.
“Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!” Arms flailing wildly, knocking dishes and cups off the drain board, I threw myself back.
My generous derriere bumped the cutting board behind me, which knocked over the coffee maker, the canister, and the disposable filters above it, tumbling them all beside me. The clatter was terrible, ringing out in the stillness of the room, and still I screamed, taking in huge gulps of air in between panting squeals.
“Aaaaahhhh!!!” Gasp. Gasp. Pant. Squeal. Gasp. Pant. “Ahhhhh!”
And there, he still stared. Breath fogging up the glass, he pressed closer, until half of his face was smashed up against it.
This just made me worse.
Gulp. Pant. Gulp. Pant. Gulp. Like a fish out of water. And, “Ahhhhhh!”
Snatching a floppy spatula from the utensil drawer, I slapped the glass with it, crying out hysterically. “No! No! No!” I don’t know what possessed me, but once I’d started, I couldn’t stop.
The beast jerked back, blinking and touching his nose, scowling as I continued to smack the glass, as if I’d just walloped him.
“No-no-no-no!” I kept saying it over and over, until it sounded like one long word.
Reaching out with a huge hand, he rapped the sill with his knuckles and growled, shaking his head, as if to warn me to stop. I didn’t, and this just seemed to irritate him.
Leaning in again, he growled something low. Again, too low for me to make out. Some of his words had at least some semblance of English, I just didn’t understand him at all.
As our little crappy game of charades continued, he eventually grew sick of it, pulled his fist back and slammed it right through the glass.
Off to a screaming start again, I tossed the spatula at him and took off, reaching for anything—the can opener, it just so happened as my hands scrambled about—to beat him with. Reaching out, the creature gripped my shirt, jerking me—still screaming hysterically, begging for mercy, my can opener suddenly forgotten in my limp fingers—to the tiny window to growl in my face. No idea what he said, he growled it again.
“I’mma-die-I’m-sorry-don’t-kill-me, pleeeeaaassseeee!”
He gave me a quick shake, as if to shut me up—which worked quite well, maybe too well—my sharp cries subduing to whimpers, my jaw clacking shut audibly.
Things happened then, things I’m ashamed of and shall not speak of ever again. Needless to say, the beast caught one whiff, glanced down my trembling frame, and let go.
Stumbling back, I broke out into noisy, heaving sobs, tripping in my own piss, and took off for the bathroom in the bedroom.
˜˙˜*˜˙˜
There was a lot of thumping and thudding, followed by angry snarls as the beast tried to break into the cabin. He couldn’t. Not yet. But it was only a matter of time. What did he want with me? Was he going to kill me? Beat me? Toss me around like he did that bear? I didn’t know.
Crouched by the bed, the quilt from it wrapped tightly around my shoulders, all I could do was sit and wait. I’m trapped—a sitting duck.
Glancing towards the bathroom, shame washed over me, splashing my cheeks. First sign of strange life out there and I wet myself. Didn’t help that he’s crazy scary and huge all over and grabbed me, but still.
Way to go, Rosalinda. Some tiger I’ll ever be. Sniffling, I slumped down hard. “Maybe if my urine was venomous,” I muttered. “A tiger-fly? Rosalinda, the great, tinkling wonder. Look at her… go.” If anything, this just deflated me more.
CHAPTER 5
The thudding and snarling in the house slowly died down, until not even a trickle of noise reached my ears. Stomach rumbling, I ignored it.
This was a trick. It’s gotta be. The bad guys always do this crap. False sense of security and all that. Glancing at the dresser and every other piece of furniture but the bed shoved up against the door, I snorted and huddled tighter into my corner. Let him just try that crap on me. Let him just try. I’ll eat the floor boards and the toilet paper before I open that door.
˜˙˜*˜˙˜
I drifted off after a while, shifting awake restlessly as I felt a flash of warmth suddenly bathe my face. Frowning, I grunted, twisting this way and that until I was comfortable enough. Then came the warmth again, smoothing across my cheeks, trailing my tear tracks to disappear. Hot and languid, something rough and rasping glided across my collarbone, sliding up my cheek.
Starting, I jerked, my eyes snapping open. Arms flailing out, trapped beneath my blankets, I smacked into a wall of heat and thick fur. A deep rumbling vibrated beneath my fingertips, tingling up my arms. The wet rasping came again, across my forehead this time. Something snuffled the tippy top of my head noisily, something thick but soft tickling my nose. Eyes coming to focus on a white furred chest, I started shrieking. Crying and kicking out, I thrashed, in a panic. The heavy weight above me moved,
smothering me as it suddenly grew heavier, descending further.
He’s crushing me. “No, ple-ee-ase!” My voice was muffled into his massive chest as it rose and fell above me, heaving with his heavy breaths.
The beast above me groaned, shifting his weight, and I screamed, crying out, my nails digging into his pale, furry flesh until he roared in shock and shot back.
As he flew back I scrambled out from beneath him, rolling under the bed to cower pitifully. Tucking my heels under my ass, I buried my face in my hands, as if this was second grade and we were just having a pretend fire drill.
But the beast next to the bed growled ominously, and Mrs. Knutsen was not there to reassure me that everything was fine, reminding the class this was only a drill and would all be over soon.
“Dear Lord, I’m pretty sure I’m about to meet you soon, and I just wanted to square up with you on a few things. I’m sorry for every bad thing I’ve ever done. I’m sorry I lied to Tio Tomas and Olaf and told them Peter deflated Cara’s bike tires. It was Joanie! She was mad and it was stupid, but I knew she’d get a whoopin’. And I’m sorry I showed Danny Callahan my nonexistent titties sophomore year at the Sadie Hawkins! I’m sorry I tied Cody Klemmens to that tree he fell asleep under senior year, for spreading all those rumors about me and the Chess Club. And I’m sorry I made out with the debate team.” Pausing I shook my head. “No, wait. No, I’m not. I’m sorry, Lord, but they were hot.”
A vicious snarl rent the air as I had my little one on one with the man upstairs, and then the bed shook. Rolling, I gripped the support slats underneath, screeching as it flew up. Taking me with it, I was suddenly airborne.
Glaring at me hard enough to melt a hole through my head, I gulped as I came face to face with the wild, white-haired man beast. My fingers tightened on the support slats, my feet scrambling for purchase, dangling off the ground.
Bride of Glass Page 4
