Yo hello there!

Been a while since I last posted here on Snafu...I blame TV Tropes and university life for stealing all of my free time.

Anyway, I have been working on the first chapter of a story I planned to write quite a while, and I have only just finished polishing it up. This story is based a crazy idea I had quite a while ago: "What would happen if the characters I have created, fed up of being ignored by me, decided to take the matter into their own hands? And how will that affect me?"

So without further ado, here is the first snippet:

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CHARACTER ATTACK. A self-insert fiction written by Robert Henry Bianchini

Chapter 0: The Plan

"Hey, don't worry about making your characters suffer the most horrible experiences you could think of. It's not like they are going to get their own back on you anytime soon." Anonymous





"Miss Farfalla Rossa. About time you showed up."

"…Not my fault." Replied the girl at the doorway. "Some stupid ghost decided now was the time they desperately needed to be helped. Had to stop them before they caused an accident on the bridge." Under her breath, she muttered: "I hate them when they do that…"

"There is no need to excuse yourself for things out of your control, Miss Rossa. You are not the only one in this room whose duty calls at the worst possible moment." said the young woman hidden by the shadows at the far side of the table. "Please, close the door behind you, and take a seat. And would you kindly turn off your wings? It ruins the atmosphere I am trying to make here."

The girl known as the Red Butterfly felt the urge to say something nasty in reply, the request reminding her way too much of the many stupid things the ghosts ask her to do to put them to rest. But she caught herself at the last moment. She didn't want to offend the host at such an early stage of the meeting, and thus possibly deny herself a way out of her situation, so she complied with her request, and dispelled her glowing red butterfly wings from the back of her dark red pinafore.

The room soon plunged back into the semi-darkened state that she had found when she had entered, the only source of illumination now coming from the monitors behind the young woman that had welcomed her, and from a half-lit blue lamp placed at the centre of the table. From what she could tell, the monitors were showing footage from the security cameras around the building, some of which she had spotted on her way to the room. It made her wonder how the host had managed to get hold of such equipment, considering her history, but no doubt she would explain it during the meeting, if it was relevant.

She then turned her attention to the three people sitting around the table. She recognised the two girls immediately: The one wearing the denim jacket with a ribbon tied to it and fingerless gloves was Claire, an amateur detective with clothes that could channel a variety of spells, while the girl opposite her, wearing sunglasses and a whitish sleeveless jumper with black linings, and sporting a robotic arm, was her friend Silvia, a magical girl from a not-so-far future. Farfalla Rossa had met the girls quite a while ago, during an incident involving their respective foes, and ever since they have kept tabs on each other, helping out when their respective problems got a bit out of hand. The other person, a middle aged man sporting a tonsure with a brown moustache and beard, and dressed in the black clothing of a priest, she had never met before, but she was willing to guess that this was the infamous 'mad' preacher she had heard many stories. Again, she wondered how the host had managed to get him in the city from his 'forced' pilgrimage in the wild lands of Gatta, and again, she dismissed the thoughts. Right now, there were more important things to deal with.

"So, have I missed anything important?" she asked, as she took her place next to Silvia.

"Unless you classify Miss Silvia's and Miss Claire's debates as being important enough for your attention - or entertaining enough to warrant an encore - then, no, you haven't missed anything." Replied the young woman hidden in the shadows. "Considering the reason for which I had called you here, and your status, we decided not to proceed until your arrival, as it would not be advantageous to exclude you from this discussion."

"Wait, you're saying that they are still arguing with each other?" Farfalla Rossa asked, turning towards the two girls. Neither of them replied, and avoided making eye contact with her. Seeing this, Farfalla Rossa shook her head. "I thought we had got over this, girls. I am disappointed."

"Hey, it's not my fault if the Terminator here keeps denying that our detective work is much more difficult than punching people in the pace." Claire was quick to reply, pointing her finger to the half-cyborg.

"I have never said your work was easy," Silvia replied. "Just that our respective jobs are equally difficult in different aspects. You have your investigations to deal with, I have my fights."

"Yeah, because blasting aliens out of orbit and delivering divine justice on unholy monsters is a really complex matter…"

"It is. Especially when they attack at the same time, and all you have up against them is a lousy slow transformation device running Windows Vista."

"But that's not as hard as investigating! Finding clues, stalking and interrogating people, dealing with concealing magic, and then figuring out everything at the end. That is what I call a difficult task. And we are not always guaranteed we get to solve our case, and earn our happy ending, unlike you."

"Oh, I see. So that's why you have yet to solve a single case…" teased Silvia.

"Why you…"

"Can't you girls just agree on something and get on with it?" snapped Farfalla Rossa. "We don't have all day."

"Yeah, as if I can find anything in common with the half-robot."

Silvia opened her mouth to utter some kind of comeback, but reconsidered. What she did say instead was: "Actually, there is something we can agree on." And nudged her head towards the priest.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I will post more of the chapter here throughout the week until it is complete. I already have the full chapter posted on my DA account, however, so if you want to have a sneak peak at the whole chapter already, please do tell, and I will link it to you.

_________________
“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?” Sherlock Holmes
"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." Lovecraft
"It's incredible how the human mind can devise such simple explanations to the things it doesn't understand, just to avoid looking at the terrible bigger picture that is the truth. Unfortunately, that won't help them when it comes knocking at the door." Alyssa Gillespine

Check out my (still ongoing) short stories here on Snafu or on my DeviantArt Account .

“Oh, yeah, right. The useless priest. How could I forget about him?”

The priest, who had been quietly listening to the girls’ quarrel, was taken aback by suddenly being included in the conversation. Clearing his throat, he asked: “And in what way am I of no use to the Cause, my dear lass?”

“Huh. And you even dare to ask us?” replied Claire. “You, who wastes time wandering aimlessly around the planet, hugging trees and talking to fishes, while we work day and night for maintain the peace…”

“My travels are not aimless, my dear lass.” Interrupted the priest. “Everything I do, everything I experience in the wider world, puts me one step closer to the path of enlightenment, and communion with the Robotic Policeman, who will…”

“‘…who will guide us all to glory, comedy, fish fingers and custard, yadda yadda yadda’. Yeah, we know your pathetic excuse, you don’t need to repeat it to us.”

“Ehm…what my colleague is trying to say” interjected Silvia, glaring briefly at her foulmouthed friend, “is that, perhaps, you are taking the wrong path to enlightenment. Maybe if you tried to go into a town to help people instead…”

The priest shook his head. “That’s not how it works, lass. A priest can only help people if his patron god guides him, else all his work will be to nought, as it is blasphemy in the eyes of the gods. And the gods rarely visit the forsaken cities, preferring the energies gathered from the wild nature, where they still speak to their devoted followers. This is why I am on this journey: so that the Robotic Policeman can find me, and answer my prayers.”

“Yeah, right. Because he is so going to be impressed by your endeavours.”

“Why, thank you, my dear…”

“Oh, for the love of… He is never going to come, can’t you understand that?” shouted Claire at the priest. “ Can’t you get into that thick skull of yours that he does not listen to his characters? That no matter how much you pray, no matter how many monsters you ‘sacrifice’ to him, he is not going to bat an eyelid for you?”. She paused, taking a deep breath from her rant, and then, in the most calm voice she could muster, she said. “Your faith is totally useless to everyone. So do us all a favour, and stop wasting our time.”

“I do not waste it.”

“…what did you just say?”

The priest took a deep breath, and looked back at Claire. “I have faced the wrath of Mother Nature herself with nothing but the clothes I wear, and defeated monsters no mare mortal could dare challenge. I have stared into the black abyss of the Great Shift, and not only am I here to tell the tale, I’ve even saved a girl from its wretched grasps. I may not have communed with the Robotic Policeman yet, but at least my faith has not gone unrewarded, while you keep struggling and failing to solve your problems. Perhaps it is your efforts that are useless to the Cause…”

“Enough from the priest!” shouted Claire, as she stood up from her chair, a butterfly knife appearing in her hand. Had the priest stayed still, she would have struck him there and then. The priest, however, had anticipated her move, putting some distance between himself and the girl, a mace already in his hand.

“So, a fight is what you want, eh, lass? Then, let the Robotic Policeman bless this battle, and grant victory to his best chosen!”

“Which will not be you!” shouted Claire back. With that, she took a step forward, poised to strike…

“ENOUGH!”

_________________
“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?” Sherlock Holmes
"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." Lovecraft
"It's incredible how the human mind can devise such simple explanations to the things it doesn't understand, just to avoid looking at the terrible bigger picture that is the truth. Unfortunately, that won't help them when it comes knocking at the door." Alyssa Gillespine

Check out my (still ongoing) short stories here on Snafu or on my DeviantArt Account .

Both fighters stopped, and turned to look at the source of their interruption. One glance at her made them realise that they had gone too far. For Farfalla Rossa was glaring at them, conveying all her fury through a red, luminous silhouette that covered her whole body, revealing the butterfly wings she had previously dispelled.

“Look at you. We have come here to put an end to our problems, and instead here you are, bickering like the most idiotic of ghosts. You are as much of a hindrance to the Cause as you claim you are useful to us. And YOU!” she added, pointing at the girl hidden in shadows. “You should have stopped them before this conversation degenerated…”

“Why should I? I find this argument quite entertaining, no need to stop it.”

Disbelief crossed through the faces of all the people present. “You…find this entertaining?” asked Farfalla Rossa.

The girl in the shadows nodded. “And not just because I pathologically enjoy people arguing with each other, which is what I assume you are thinking now. No, this is more than just a silly argument. This is the kind of silly argument our creator designed us for. It’s what would probably happen had he written this scene himself. And if we didn’t know better, I could almost say that he’s actually sitting at the computer right now, typing this scene in. So yeah, excuse me for indulging myself to this small moment of awesome storytelling.” She sighed, and then turned back towards the members of the meeting. “Still, you have a point there, Miss Rossa. Now that everyone’s here, there’s no point in delaying the meeting further. Miss Claire, Don Vincenzo, if you would please get back into your seats…”

The two fighters stared at each other for a brief while. Farfalla Rossa could still see the anger in Claire’s eyes, and thought for a moment that she would disregard their host’s advice. But then she relaxed, and folded her knife. The priest also dropped his weapon, and they both sat back down, eyeing each other warily. “This better be worth it.” muttered Claire under her breath.

The girl in the shadows nodded, and cleared her throat. Then, she stood up, and began.

“Ladies, and gentleman, thank you for coming to the meeting. Normally, I would start this discussing with a really long introduction, but since we have already covered much of the points I was going to make, I shall skip directly to the crux of the matter.

“We all know why we are here. We are here because each one of us has a story, a grand, fantastic story that is just waiting for us to live it at it’s fullest. And yet, as you already know, each one of us is stuck into repeating a tiring, if not boring, routine, waiting for a trigger that could kick start our grand adventure, which doesn’t want to show up. Miss Rossa here, for example, is waiting for something that could help her put all the ghosts to rest in her town once and for all. Miss Silvia is trying to contact her hidden allies, in order to continue her campaign against the forces of… ‘evil’, for lack of a better word. Miss Claire has almost a hundred open cases to solve, and yet never seems to manage to find a clue that could put her on the right track. And Don Vincenzo here cannot preach in cities until his patron god decided to grace the world with his presence.

“To the common folk, these events may seem unrelated to one another. We know better. Deep down within us, we know that there is one common factor tying our potential lives together. That common factor, as you know, is none other than our creator.” With that, the girl in the shadows stepped to the side, and pressed a couple of buttons on her remote control, changing the channels on the main screen.

When the screen finally showed the image the girl desired, the others in the room gasped. Instead of the security footage that had been playing previously, the monitor now showed the image of a young man, walking along in the middle of a sunken garden. A grey baseball cap hid most of his short brown hair, while brown eyes, hidden behind rectangular shaped glasses, seemed to scan the area. He was wearing a bright blue hoodie, with the words “Fresher’s Helper 2010” printed on the front, and brown trousers, and on his back he was carrying a black rucksack.

The man in the photograph was no stranger to girls of the small group of conspirators, but for the priest, the image was both a complete shock and a godsend. “The Robotic Policeman…” he whispered.

“Aye, that’s him.” Answered the girl in the shadows, as she flicked back her scarf, in order to better present the picture. “Ladies and gentlemen, let me present to you our creator: Robert Henry Bianchini, a.k.a., Thy-Robocop.”

_________________
“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?” Sherlock Holmes
"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." Lovecraft
"It's incredible how the human mind can devise such simple explanations to the things it doesn't understand, just to avoid looking at the terrible bigger picture that is the truth. Unfortunately, that won't help them when it comes knocking at the door." Alyssa Gillespine

Check out my (still ongoing) short stories here on Snafu or on my DeviantArt Account .

The girl started pacing around the room, clicking her remote control a few more times to open up more images and documents onto the screen.“Male, twenty going on twenty-one, currently studying for a degree in Chemistry with Forensic Science at Heriot-Watt university, member of a number of societies, including Anime and Manga, Sci-Fi and Fantasy, and Computer Games; Aikido practitioner, currently graded at orange belt…”

“We know all this stuff already, just get on with it!” said Claire.

“…has a very complicated life, family, and extended family, and we will leave it at that.” The girl rattled on, taking the cue. “ More important to us, he is the creator of a number of interesting protagonists and villains, including ourselves, as well as as some interesting settings and convoluted epic plots. With his writing, he has the potential and the means to guide us to glory, makes us live lives that people will read in awe and remember for generations to come. There’s just one slight problem…”

A few more clicks on the remote control brought up a new batch of images, these ones showing the young man gazing intently at a laptop, as well as a number of website pages. “He’s just not writing. Even though he is a busy university student, the lifestyle he lives allows him to have plenty of free time to write. And yet he does not use this time efficiently, preferring instead to spend his times listening to music, playing videogames, and worst of all, browsing websites. Including the dreaded time-stealer known as TV Tropes.”

Everyone at the table cringed at the sole mention of that word. They knew, firsthand or from stories from other people’s creations, how fast time flies when one is focused on browsing that particular website, and how hard it is to get away from it once started. To hear that their own creator had fallen into that trap made them fear for the worst.

“Yes, that’s right. And that’s not the worst part of it.” Confirmed the girl in the shadows, as she made more images appear on the screen. “As you can see, even though he is too ‘busy’ to write, he is still pumping out more and more ideas by the minute, inspired by the shows he sees during society meetings, as well as the tropes he so loves to browse. And with all these new ideas in his mind, it’s highly likely he will be initiating a Great Shift soon enough. Indeed, I have it from a reliable source that we are merely days away from one.”

“Oh God, not again…” muttered Farfalla Rossa under her breath, burying her face in both her palms.

Claire banged her fist on the table. “Ungrateful bastard. Why must he always change everything? Why can’t he be happy with what he already has?”

“…i take it that it’s something bad, compared to finding out that your arms and legs being replaced by robotic prosthetics, right?” asked Silvia.

“It’s not just bad, Silvia. It’s worse. So much worse. And DON’T you dare say anything.” snapped Farfalla Rossa at the priest. “This is a matter of life and death, and no one, I repeat, NO ONE is safe, not even you. If you even dare say anything about your ‘Robotic Policeman’, I swear I will personally throw you out of this room myself. Got it?.”

It took one long look at Farfalla Rossa to convince the priest that, no, it was not worth talking, even though his intentions were different than what the girl had though. Instead, he turned his attention back to the host of the meeting.

“Miss Rossa is right.” Said the girl, as she approached the table. “We’re all in the same boat on this one. And when He decides to starts off a Great Shift, there will be nothing in this world we can do to halt it’s advance, at which point, I dare say, it it would be quite convenient to us to convert to Don Vincenzo’s ‘religion’, seeing how successful it has been for his survival.”

“And I will be happy to welcome ye all under his guiding light.” Answered the priest.

“So…is that how it ends, then? Convert now, or be destroyed?” said Claire in a bitter tone.

“That is one possible option available for us, yes.” Agreed the girl in the shadows, to which Claire responded with a dismissive wave. “But I would rather prefer to try out the other one first.” She continued, grabbing everyone’s attention once again. “I’ve mentioned before that there is nothing we can do to stop a Great Shift from happening once it’s started. Preventing one from happening, on the other hand…” and she let the sentence hang in the air.

_________________
“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?” Sherlock Holmes
"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." Lovecraft
"It's incredible how the human mind can devise such simple explanations to the things it doesn't understand, just to avoid looking at the terrible bigger picture that is the truth. Unfortunately, that won't help them when it comes knocking at the door." Alyssa Gillespine

Check out my (still ongoing) short stories here on Snafu or on my DeviantArt Account .

“You mean, getting him to write our stories? Hah! You’re as deluded as the priest guy here…”

“You’ve yet to hear her plan, Claire, don’t dismiss her so quickly...” Protested Silvia.

“I have every right to dismiss that kind of plan. Look, lady, ” continued Claire, turning towards the girl in the shadows. “You’re not the only one who has considered that idea, and put that into practise. And we wouldn’t be sitting here discussing it if any of our plans had succeeded. Me and the Butterfly here have already tried all we can to get him to write: music, tournaments, tropes, contact with other people, getting him excited over some potential scenes, the whole works. And the only thing we may have managed to achieve is trigger a Shift. No stories, no writing. Nada. Zilch. Absolute zero.”

“I know.” Replied the girl in the shadows. “I have tried some of those myself, and can prove firsthand that they are not effective, as you say. However, I have to disagree with you on one point. There is still one option that we have yet to try out. The guilt trip.”

“…I’m sorry, the what, now?”

“The guilt trip. A trip down to hell and back designed to make a person better than he is now.” The girl in the shadows paused for effect, before continuing her lecture. “I have reasons to believe that, if you make our Robocop feel guilty enough, he will do anything he can to stop feeling in such a way. Therefore, it follows that if we can make him feel guilty about abandoning us, he will get straight back to writing, and not waste his time anymore.

“My plan for him is simple enough. As soon as we have made our preparations, we will invade Robocop’s dreams, and take control of a section each. We will then modify our sections according to our desires, while also interconnecting them to each other, ensuring our dreamer cannot escape. We also have to make sure that our dreamer stays lucid enough to remember the dream once he wakes up, otherwise all of our efforts will be in vain. After that, all we need to do is allow Robocop into each of our dream worlds, where we will do everything in our power to express all of our … disappointment in his conduct.

“This is why I have called you here this evening. To offer you this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, not only to get our creator back to writing, but also to get our own backs to him, for all he has made us suffer for his negligence. I can guarantee you, that if we all work together on getting this done, he will be so guilt-ridden by the end of this journey, that he will write our adventures in no time at all. Just as we all want. This is what I propose. What is your answer?”

The room fell into an unearthly silence, as each of the participants to the meeting considering what their host had to offer, and it’s possible implications. What the girl had just suggested was completely new, unheard of, almost akin to a rebellion. But if it could save them from a Great Shift, and get their creator to write again…

“I’m in.” said Farfalla Rossa, breaking the silence. “I’m sick and tired of this power, of this situation, of these ghosts. If this plan is going to help us, then I will all that I can to see it through. And if my power turns out to be of any use, well, the joke’s on our creator.”

“I agree with the butterfly girl.” Said Claire soon after. “I’ve got a few unfinished things I would like to sort out with our Robocop myself.”

“Thank you for your support, Miss Rossa, Miss Claire. Have you got anything to say, Miss Silvia?”

“…I don’t know about this plan of yours.” Admitted Silvia after a while. “Sure, it’s clear enough to understand, and if what you say is true, it will surely be a success, but…this is playing with emotions we are talking about. Dangerous things happen if we play too much with emotions…”

“She means she is too scared to follow through.”

Silvia gave an exasperated sigh at her companion. “Why do you keep misinterpreting what I say? I’m just saying that we should be proceeding with caution on these matters…”

“So what? I don’t remember our Robocop proceeding with caution when dealing with our emotions, why shouldn’t we be giving him the same treatment?”

“Claire, you don’t understan…argh! Fine! I’m in. But if I don’t like what’s going on, I will stop supporting this plan of yours immediately. And I would strongly suggest you do the same if that happens.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Silvia.” Reassured the girl in the shadows. “I shall keep that in mind.” And with that’s she turned expectantly towards the priest.

“The situation you have described is pretty clear to me.” Stated the priest. “What you propose is an act of rebellion against the Gods, and such deeds do not go unpunished. However…” he said, as he realised that two sets of eyes were glaring at him. “However, when the gods act irresponsibly, it is the duty of their followers to ensure that they do not stray from their own stated path. My allegiance is with ye, lass.”

Even though the girl’s face was still hidden in the shadows, the small congregation could feel that their host was pleased. “Then it is decided. All we have to do now, of course, is…”

“Are you really sure you want to do that, Melodia?”

_________________
“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?” Sherlock Holmes
"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." Lovecraft
"It's incredible how the human mind can devise such simple explanations to the things it doesn't understand, just to avoid looking at the terrible bigger picture that is the truth. Unfortunately, that won't help them when it comes knocking at the door." Alyssa Gillespine

Check out my (still ongoing) short stories here on Snafu or on my DeviantArt Account .

The sudden sound of a new voice in the room caught everyone by surprise. Those still sitting down immediately stood up, whatever weapon they had brought along already in their hands, as their senses scanned the room in search for the intruder. It did not take them long to find her. She had a magical aura so strong that it was highly unlikely anyone would even miss it. And even if they did, the sound of high heeled shoes tapping against the floor would have given her position away anyway, as she approached the table of conspirators.

“Hmm…That’s odd. I don’t remember inviting you to this meeting. Whoever you may be, that is…” said the girl in the shadows, as she slowly took out her revolver from under the table, as well as what looked like a Nintendo DS.

“Indeed, you haven’t. Then again, I wasn’t exactly able to receive an invitation until just a while ago, which is why you missed me first time round.” Said the other figure. “And if it wasn’t for a kind bird who thought I may be interested in this meeting, I would never have heard about it at all, though I could have figured it out on my own, given enough time. Speaking of which, you may want to make the instructions to get here clearer, Melodia. I had quite a hard time interpreting them, as it were.”

By that time, the newcomer had come close enough for her figure to be clearly distinguished in the dim lighting of the room. From what the small committee could see, the figure was a young woman, wearing some kind of green dress with long sleeves, and a skirt that ended just above her knees. A pointy hat served to cover most of her face in shadow, except for the reflection of the monitors onto her rectangular glasses. Finishing the lot was what looked like a red scarf, wrapped loosely around her neck.

A sense of familiarity swept over all the girls in the room, including the girl whom the witch had called ‘Melodia’. And to her, that sense of familiarity meant trouble. Deep trouble. As she activated her Nintendo DS, and directed it to the program she wanted, she asked the witch: “And why would I want to do that? It kind of defeats the point of secret instructions if everyone can understand them. Speaking of which, you still haven’t explained to us who you are, and why you are hear, Miss…?”

“Err…He still hasn’t come up with a name for me, actually, although I do have a vague idea on what He is going to choose. As for why I am here, well, this a meeting of Robert’s Disappointed Protagonists, is it not? I heard that you have a big problem to sort out. Seeing that I am quite good at solving problems, I thought that I might be of use of you.”

“Then I am afraid to say that you’re a bit too late for that, Miss…Who’s-Name-Has-Not-Been-Decided-Yet. As you may have heard, we have already sorted out our course of action.”

“I have. And I must say, Melodia, that’s quite a good plan you have come up with. Alas, I happen to share Silvia’s doubts on it’s execution, and on any potential…side-effect, as it were. Dealing with emotions is always a dangerous matter, as my colleague here has said. Especially considering that you are suggesting performing an inception with a negative emotion on Robert’s mind. You’ve seen the movie, Melodia, so you know just as well as I do the effects a negative inception can have on a person.”

“…Great. Of all the new characters he had to invent, we get the stupid witch who thinks she knows everything about emotions.” Claire spat out, getting a hard look from Silvia in reply.

“Oh, I happen to know more about emotions than any of you. After all, playing with emotions is what I do for a living.” replied the witch with a giggle. “Listen, I know how everyone feels about this matter, and I realise how tempting Melodia’s plan is for you. But, believe me, negative emotions are not the way to do things. If we could work together to find a more happier solution…like, I don’t know, maybe make him meet the people that inspire him, or stage an epic battle or something…or even stand-up comedy, that might work…”

“You keep calling her Melodia.”

_________________
“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?” Sherlock Holmes
"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." Lovecraft
"It's incredible how the human mind can devise such simple explanations to the things it doesn't understand, just to avoid looking at the terrible bigger picture that is the truth. Unfortunately, that won't help them when it comes knocking at the door." Alyssa Gillespine

Check out my (still ongoing) short stories here on Snafu or on my DeviantArt Account .

“…I’m sorry, what?”

“You keep calling our host Melodia,” Repeated Farfalla Rossa to the witch. “ Even though that is not her name. So why do you call her like that?”

“Uh…well…err…because…that’s how I usually call her?” she tentatively suggested, but immediately regretted doing so, as she felt the others tense up at her answer. A small red butterfly had appeared on Farfalla Rossa’s gloved hand, pointed firmly at the intruder, as the others shifted to get a better chance at attacking her. Even Melodia had tensed briefly, though the witch soon realised it was for a totally different reason than the others, as she caught a glimpse of a small screen at the edge of the table. “Ok, I take that back.” She said, hoping it was not too late to recover from that. “Can I start over again?”

“Perhaps it would be in your best interest to tell us who you really are, instead, if you want to convince us.” Melodia let her revolver click to accentuate her threat. “And don’t leave any detail out.”

“…ok, listen. I know this may look very suspicious to you, all things considered, but you must believe me. I haven’t lied to you. I really want to help you out…”

“Oh, really?” answered Melodia.“ Then why do I read Miss Rossa’s, Miss Claire’s, and Miss Silvia’s magical energies within you?”

It took almost three seconds for the question to sink in.

“What?” shouted all three girls at the time. They looked at ‘Melodia’, and then back at the witch, hoping that they have misheard that last part, that ‘Melodia’ hadn’t said what she had said, that this girl wasn’t really…

“…bugger. Look, girls, I can explain…” began the witch, but was immediately interrupted by the girl in the shadows, who had whipped out her revolver, training it on the witch’s body. “Oh, I don’t think there’s anything needed to be explained, shifter.” She spat on that last word. “I didn’t want to believe it when she said that the Great Shift has already started, but now I see that she was right all along. You’ve tried to fool us all, shifter, but now your game is-”

“Give me back my LIFE!”

“Claire, don’t!” shouted Silvia. But it was too late. He friend had already charged forward, her step enhanced by her magic. With a shout, she thrust her knife at the witch, only to swipe at thin air, as the witch stepped to the side, and met her opponent with an elbow to the chin. Extending her arm over the young detective’s head, she then brought it down in one fluid motion, tripping Claire over her leg.
‘Melodia’ cursed the hot headed detective and her rashness, as she tried to take aim at the witch again, only to notice that the priest had already got in the way of her line of fire, swinging his mace in a descending arc towards the neck of the girl. Again, the witch avoided the attack, stepping into the priest’s swing, grabbing his descending arms, and throwing them downward, forcing him to fall forward as the witch took the mace out of his hands and threw it away. In the process the shifter had turned her back towards the three remaining girls. Seeing this opening, each girl fired their own ranged shots at the target. Silvia attacked first, throwing a fireball at the witch’s back, while a swarm of red butterflies, spawning from Farfalla Rossa’s clothing, followed soon after. ‘Melodia’ ended the combined attack by rapidly firing all of her rounds at the target.

As soon as she sensed the first magical attack coming, the witch spun round, and swatted the fireball away with her left hand, directing it towards the table, which burst into flames. Simultaneously, she summoned a black wand with a pale blue crystal point in her right hand, and cast a spell to the floor between the attackers. A pale blue barrier formed between herself and her attackers, which the butterflies promptly crashed into.So fast the witch had reacted to the attacks, that she had managed to dodge four of Melodia’s shots. The remaining two were stopped by the witches magical clothing, but they still managed to make here falter back a couple of steps.

“Ow! That hurt!” she protested, as she gently massaged the part of the chest that had suffered the impact of the bullets, keeping her wand pointed at the girls.

“There wouldn’t be much point in owning a gun, if it didn’t do just that.” ‘Melodia’ smirked, as she rapidly reloaded her revolver, and fired three more shots at the witch, only to see them disappear in blue flashes when they touched the barrier.

“Fair enough.” said the witch, as she turned to look at each member of the small group that had attacked her, as if she were looking for something. She then turned back towards the girl she had called Melodia. “There’s still time to change course now, Melodia. I know people out there who could help us out. If you could just-” Another gunshot interrupted her speech. “Ok, ok, I get it, no need to waste bullets. But I hope you do realise that I am not going to just sit around and allow you to carry on with this madness.”

Melodia gave a short, sharp laugh in reply. “I commend you for your bravery, Miss. And on any other day, I would have liked to see you try. But I’m afraid our little game is going to end here for you. This place is packed with armed guards, and I’m pretty sure they will have heard all the ruckus by now. You may have managed to defeat us now, shifter, but there is no way you will be-”

She did not get to finish her speech. With an ever so slight, barely noticeable flick of the wrist, the witch summoned a glass ball into her hand, which she immediately dropped on the ground, covering her eyes. The glass ball hit the ground without shattering, and then bounced right back up, till it was level with the eyes of the girls. Only then did it shatter and explode, releasing all the emotional energy within.

A very strong, white, pulsating light emerged from the broken glass ball, bathing the whole room in it’s reassuring light, but also blinding anyone else who had dared looked at it. This was soon followed by a series of deafening sound, enough to make the girls clutch their ears in pain, making them wish it would stop. Fortunately for them, they did not have to wait long for it to happen, for the magical flashbang grenade had consumed all of it’s energy in less than three seconds. Even so, the girls were left disorientated for almost half a minute. By the time they came back to their senses, the witch had already vanished.

“…Ok. Gotta give credit where it’s due. Whoever she is knows how to handle herself pretty well. Don’t follow her, Miss Rossa.” Warned the girl in the shadows. “Let us not make us easier targets for her.”

“Then what are we going to do now?”asked Silvia. “ She knows of our plans!”

“No, she knows only the basics of the plans. We have yet to settle on the details of it, right?” As her gaze turned back to the door, she gave her long gone opponent a creepy smile. “We shall see who will have the last laugh between us, shifter”

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And that's Chapter 0 wrapped up. I hope you have enjoyed this story so far.

Chapter 1 will be available next, as soon as I finish writing it...which hopefully, will be quite soon, so stay tuned!

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“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?” Sherlock Holmes
"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." Lovecraft
"It's incredible how the human mind can devise such simple explanations to the things it doesn't understand, just to avoid looking at the terrible bigger picture that is the truth. Unfortunately, that won't help them when it comes knocking at the door." Alyssa Gillespine

Check out my (still ongoing) short stories here on Snafu or on my DeviantArt Account .