thecoolerlucky

[thecoolerlucky]

[thecoolerlucky]

[thecoolerlucky]

Dumb Little Update with 'The Jenkai'

I love this and I am sorry I keep sharing it around. It's my favorite part so far. xD STILL got a lot of work but hopefully episode one will be out around Saturday. Have a great day, NONNEGOTIABLE AS ALWAYS.

[thecoolerlucky]

ANNOUNCEMENT!

What have you been up to Lucky? WELL, currently I am working on the comic contest Webtoon is having for a series I had that takes place in the same universe as 'What I'd Do For A Livable Income'.

It follows a playful and pride oriented third class C.P.P.A. agent Vallen, playing "baby-sitter" to a serious and level-headed Jenkai named Avila. It's a "buddy-cop" type of episodic story with fantasy action hijinks, tons of monsters, idiocy, and tidbits of drama.

Disclaimer: These are rough drafts for them, in the comic they won't be exactly like this, probably better.

I'll be posting small updates with it soon, thank you again for following. And if it does well, comic wise. I will definitely be looking to make 'what I'd do for a livable income' into a comic one day too. xD

ANYWAY, AS ALWAYS HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY (Nonnegotiable)!

[thecoolerlucky]

Discord Exchange #8 Gaming Buddies

And Drake got an invite anyway.

DUMB Fact: Canonically Alexander made that username when he was 13 and has been using it ever since. ☠️

Characters from my story, "What I'd Do For A Livable Income"

HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR DAY! (NON-NEGOTIABLE).

[thecoolerlucky]

Goofy Shenanigans #1 - "Ice Cream"

Contents: Drake trying to figure out how to ask Lynette a question. (Much later in Widfali).

Wordcount: 1,300+

“What I wouldn’t give to be able to kick a puppy.”

_______________________________________

After the first taste of her blood in months, Drake found himself craving more. Somehow its potency had increased from the last time he indulged, and now he was stuck with her, shamelessly debating his options.

Lynette convinced him to go to Bitty Frogs ice cream shop along the city outskirts—an hour before it closed. It was a 20-minute drive to get to the area, and a small ten-minute walk to the shop from where they parked.

You’d think seeing barely any skin would make me less compelled to bite her. On occasions exposed flesh drew out his thirst, but a human’s heartbeat teased him more. Every thump promised him a fresh, warm, crimson ichor just waiting for his fangs to release.

It neared eight o'clock, so the shops illuminated their path along the sidewalk. The cold chill of late February didn't bother him, so unlike his friend, he wore a thin black sweater and torn jeans. While Lynette was bundled up. Layered in at least five different sweaters, scarf, hat, gloves, and jeans under her skirt, and winter boots one size too big. It made her steps clatter louder and her gait wobbled. Her choice in wardrobe no longer shocked him, however her ability to move her upper torso with the layers did.

I could do it without asking. That’s how he hunted humans. All Drake had to do was make a barrier to keep people from seeing them, grab her head, wrap an arm around her waist to press her into him, lift her up, and then drink to his stomach’s content.

He hissed under his breath like a machine letting out steam. Why does it have to be like this? He dreaded asking someone for blood. It either led to an awkward exchange or a flat-out rejection. She won’t say no. Drake knew his kind-hearted, foolishly trusting “prey” too well. It’ll be embarrassing. The thought of asking, “may I please have some of your blood,” caused him to cringe and look for any nearby him sized potholes to make his grave.

But no, you have to be such a sweet friiiiieeeend. He complained like he wasn’t grateful for her friendship. He was and wouldn’t attack her unless she deserved it by pissing him off.

His wine red eyes glanced at the shrimpy girl striding beside him. Why can’t you be a rude asshole like Alexander? That’s so much better than being an innocent, lovable puppy. He was too ‘weak-willed’ to hurt one of those.

While he was in his head, she pointed out the ice cream shop across the street, half a block away. “We’re so close!”

Drake’s natural habit to respond, regardless of whether he paid attention or not, let his thought slip through his lips, “What I wouldn’t give to be able to kick a puppy.”

Her cheerful smile fell. “What?” She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and he did the same, realizing what he said. She whimpered out, “Drake, why would you want to hit a puppy!”

He averted his eyes and checked their surroundings. Not only did they interrupt the flow of people walking behind them, but he also heard their judgmental muttering and heartbeats, too. He expelled an embarrassed hiccup of a chuckle. “Ha, you’re so-." His lip twitched, shooting her a look, “funny!” He quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. He brought her to the crosswalk and turned the corner, avoiding it. They'd remain a short distance from the pedestrian traffic, at the corner boutique’s brick wall.

He released her and stood there, waiting a second more for any prying eyes or ears to pass. He consoled her sad face, although, in his fluster, he matched her previous exclamation volume. “I didn’t mean literal puppies!” Her heartbeat tensed. I’m yelling at her. He bowed his head in apology and lowered his voice to talk in his usual, non-fang exposing softness. “It was a metaphorical puppy as a reference for you.”

His poor choice of words slapped him in the face on their way out. He threw his hand up to silence her before she could say something like, “you want to kick me?”

Lynette’s sweet and caring melody responded almost instantly. “Did you want to drink my blood?”

“No, I don’t want to kick you. I was trying to think of a way to ask you something and not embarrass myself.” Too late for that. He lowered his hand and considered the thought of using it to get her face and pin the back of her head against the bricks to expose her neck. He dismissed the temptation by tucking his clawed fingertips into his pockets.

He flinched. He questioned whether he should feel insulted by her rapid deduction of his predictability or frustrated by her saying it blunt. Can’t you act a little scared?

Drake's eyes flicked down as she moved her gloved hand to tug at her purple scarf. He realized she was trying to bring it down for him.

The redhead dropped her small mits and took a step back, so he released the scarf. She pressed into the wall behind her and looked longingly across the street at the ice cream shop. She adjusted her feet, and her squinted green-eyed gaze helped her monotone reply. “Fine, no, you can’t have my blood.”

“Wayland.” He bared his fangs saying her last name and fought her to fix her scarf, “don’t offer yourself to me so easily.”

Drake’s shoulders dropped, offended. “You can’t take it back.”

Her attempt at being stern receded. “Huh?” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Drake’s did too from his backward logic. “You told me to reject you.”

“I did.” He pressed his own palm against his face and spoke, his hand muffling his words. “I meant you shouldn’t jump at the opportunity.”

The slacked eyelids and pouty grumbles showed how much she was tired of their idiocy. Don’t worry Lynette, I hate myself too. She pushed her mitten to his chest first, then hers. “We’re friends Drake.” She put her mittens on her hips to show confidence. “I trust you, and that’s a good enough reason to say yes.”

And that’s where your idiocy lies. He groaned and copied her stance. “I’m being selfish. I only want it because it tastes better than last time.” Don't feed my greed or I'd have it everyday.

Fearless, she leaned in and if it wasn't for her short height he could take her seriously. Any bit of it flew away the moment she craned her head up to look at him. “I’m being selfish, too. I dragged you away from your anime binge because Wicks canceled.”

He dropped his arms. “True. I was an episode away from the season finale.” I could abuse that and guilt her into giving me blood all the time if she asks me to do something and I’m “busy”. He shook his head. I’m not doing that. “How much I’d love to say, ‘good point’ and bite you. The little Lynette I have as a conscience keeps telling me no.”

Her eyes popped with vibrancy and life, she put her arms at her chest happily, “a little me? Awww.”

Drake gave a sardonic smirk and prepared his tease, “yeah, your disgusting positivity is contagious. I should have known when you won over Alexander.” He acted it up by making a sour face and shook out his arms like they had something wet all over them.

She held her laugh, stuck out her tongue and walked around him, “aw shucks. That’s unfortunate. Having positivity means no blood privileges.”

Drake straightened up and followed her to the crosswalk. “Hey, I refute that.”

“Sorry, court decision.”

Drake hissed jokingly, “Not if I kill the judge.”

She gasped as they crossed the street. “You’d assault a judge?”

“I'd attack anyone if they had decent blood.”

She whispered to keep the people they passed from hearing her. “Doesn’t every human have good blood to you?”

Drake wadded through all the tasty heartbeats, to hear her sass. He sighed, “okay, if they have blood to die for, I’d be willing to kill a judge.”

She snickered, “you've definitely fought people for less.”

Drake tipped toward her and playfully jabbed her shoulder with his elbow. “Shut up.”

He opened the door to the ice cream shop for her, and she spoke under her breath. “After we get ice cream, you can have some of my blood on the condition that you explain why you wanted it to whoever asks me.”

Drake slumped on the door and watched her walk in. She’s not kidding is she? He trudged forward. All along there was a secret third problem. I didn’t have to worry about her making it awkward or rejecting me. No, I have to deal with the others ridiculing me into oblivion. He stepped behind her, the man at the counter greeting him like he did her. Drake reflected a closed smile and looked down at the colorful wide variety of flavors. Is ice cream always this bright?

Beside him, Lynette asked for Drake's opinion. She must have forgot I can't taste any of these without human energy or blood in them. He smiled and looked over the names of the flavors, nah, she asked to include me.

He checked the names, rocky road, minty mountain, coffee swirl, and said what he assumed was the most bitter option. That's what her brother would do.

She quietly said, "bleh," at what he said and picked , a triple scope sundae.

Lynette grabbed at his sleeve and pinched at his arm. “Drake!"

Speaking of her brother. Drake pondered the concern that was Wicks. Is her blood worth risking that psycho finding out I drank it without an actual reason? Drake weighed the repercussions and shrugged. “Here's hoping one of them knows a good funeral director for me.”

...

Wondering where these bozos are from? Check them out in my story about a human working in a pizzeria run by monster called, "What I'd Do For A Livable Income"

[thecoolerlucky]

Discord Exchange #7 Image

Characters from my story, "What I'd Do For A Livable Income"

AND HAVE A GOOD REST OF YOUR DAY, NONNEGOTIABLE!!

Yes I drew the image for the scars. ☠️

[thecoolerlucky]

Chapter 8: Let's Make A Bet!

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Not according to plan. (Angst and lore info )

Wordcount: 4,500+

“I thought you guys would act sportsmanlike!!”

_______________________________________

Someone had me.

So, I panicked and yanked my arms from the figure. I staggered and, in my haste, failed to recognize my living room and the distance I had left between me and the couch. Falling over the back of it, I instinctively grabbed for the overhead, desperate to avoid hitting the coffee table.

The silhouette pursued and caught my wrists, amid my fingers grazing the couch’s fabric. I would have missed and fallen otherwise. Their grip was so tight it made my limbs twitch and my body wince, but they kept me from tumbling.

“Lentils?” The name resembled a cool breeze on a hot summer’s day—refreshing, enlightening, and calmed my nerves enough to make out the figure. The gleam of the T.V. illuminated him. What threw me off was the messy wavy brown locks scattered across his alarmed. Wicks rarely wore his hair loosely, even if he was relaxed around me to the point of doing it.

“You look so nice with your hair down, Wicks.” I flinched in pain as he tugged. “Ow.”

His eyes widened, and with a gentle but swift motion, he helped me up. “I didn’t mean to squeeze hard. Are you okay?” He inspected me, his hands hovering over me as he did, too worried to touch.

I nodded, resisting the urge to grasp my wrists. Regardless of the soreness, I didn’t want him to feel too bad for an accident. “I’m okay.” I remember trying to go to sleep in my room, not out here. Did I really sleepwalk again? “Sorry if I woke you?” The static behind me told me he was awake and probably changed it off the show he was watching. A telenovella perhaps? I smiled at the thought.

“I had trouble sleeping. You didn’t wake…me,” Wicks suddenly raised an accusatory eyebrow. “You rarely get out of it scared like that.”

All I had was a hazy collection of fragments from my dream running from a giant, Lev. The rest faded into obscurity the moment I snapped out of it. “It was a nightmare, that’s all.” A nightmare that’s my new reality. Peering at him, his gaze resembled a bunch of ice pricks on my skin. Agh. He’s expecting me to explain it. Of course he would. I usually talk incessantly about my nightmares. I flicked my eyes down, then to the T.V. behind me. Skip what’s going on, Lynette. Giggling anxiously, I hoped to distract him with another question and promise to hang out. “What were you watching? We can stay up and watch it together.”

He didn’t budge and to keep me from fleeing to my room; he pressed a heavy, steady palm against my shoulder. “Nope.” He forced me to face him, and in an inculpatory tone, he sassed. “You’re telling me,” he poked himself in the chest, “a normal nightmare caused you this much stress?”

The only time I sleepwalked was because we moved or I was under a lot of pressure. So, like a dog that tore up a sofa cushion, I lifted my head, begging for forgiveness. To my surprise, he looked worried. I hadn’t seen him scared in that way since I had food poisoning. I’m not dying or anything. His hand on my shoulder fell. “I thought work was going well?”

Resting on the back of the couch, I half-lied to Wicks. “I’m doing great. So much so that the boss congratulated me during my weekly review, but now I’m stressed out about whether I can live up to those expectations.” I kept my salary and year-end income a secret. If I told him about Edgar’s offer, he would investigate it, and the last thing I needed was for him to go there.

With a roll of his eyes and the release of tension on his shoulders, Wicks linked his arm with mine. He escorted me around the couch. “That’s a stupid concern, Lentils.” He stopped at it and bopped my nose. When I attempted retaliation, he gingerly pushed me onto the sofa.

I plunked down in dismay, ready to spring up. “Hey!”

“You deserved that for disrespecting my best friend.” Wick walked around the table, squinting the entire way, daring me to get up. I remained put, and he threw himself on the middle cushion. “You always put out your best effort. You might fail here and there, but you have nothing to worry about with working hard.”

If it was just a job, I’d be a lot more confident. “Yeah…”

Offended, his face clouded over with a scowl. “Don’t be like that, Lentils.” He nudged into my shoulder with his, “I admire that you don’t give up—you know that, right?”

You admire me? We were in different leagues. He and our sister, Charletta, were above me. I couldn’t compare to either of them. I gave him a nudge too, “and I admire that you’re perfect at everything else.”

Wicks chuckled, finding my words hilarious. “I’m not.” He retrieved the remote from his side and swung it up. “You’re living in a fantasy if you think I’m perfect at everything.” He used the screen light to read the buttons on the device.

“You said I can’t be mopey, so neither can you.”

As if it were a dagger, he pointed the remote at me. “It’s different with you.” He pulled back and waved it around like a conductor. “I only do things I’m naturally good at and drop something if I’m not. That’s why you think I’m so perfect. I give up easily, unlike you.”

You can brag once in a while! You’re failing to mention there is very little you aren’t good at! A nagging inner voice obsessed over my brother’s successes, fueling my complaints. He was incredible at sports, got high marks in our classes, and works at a place that pays him tons. A part of me tried to deny the jealousy stemmed from a naïve hope of achieving something great too. “You’re the one motivating me to strive every day.”

He shyly turned his head and muttered a weak argument in Spanish. I scooted closer in reassurance and pressed my shoulder to his. “I’m sorry about earlier, Wicks.” He sounded like a child imitating a speedboat as he exhaled. I giggled, “what was that?!”

He playfully messed up my hair, a hint of flush on his olive complexion. He whispered, “shush,” to quiet me. I maintained my smile and fixed my curly locks, and he unexpectedly grasped my nearest elbow. He pushed it up. “Close your eyes, Lentils, so I can put on a show to take that stress away.”

I did and resisted the temptation to peek, as if I was oblivious to what he was putting on.

The immediate blare of the Magic Castin’ Super Rangers intro widened my smile and banished my anxiety. Watching it together was as comforting as a bonfire on a chilly night. We agreed the show itself was dumb with unbelievable plots and idiotic villainous monsters. Yet we enjoyed it.

We fell asleep to it most days, and we did today. It gave me enough peace that instead of another nightmare—I dreamed my coworkers were as dupable as those in the program.

...

Alexander felt antsy even without Zilla’s presence thanks to Lev. Lev had been working at the pizzeria for six months, and they rarely talked. Since they were such opposites, their conversations were brief, back-and-forth’s or mere acknowledgments of the others’ existence. Alexander’s approach was a simple grab-and-eat, while Lev outsmarted, or lured, them in with his charm. Drake, having listened to their heartbeats, said Lev’s prey were infatuated with him. So, the possibility of Lev coercing Lynette to form a team bothered him. Why else would she get eaten by him yesterday if it wasn’t out of willingness?

Drake, not removing his eyes from a manga chapter on his phone screen, asked, “nervous?”

Alexander dropped his shoulders and device, staring at Drake. He had no privacy near his best friend. I don’t like my heartbeat being on full blast for you to judge. “No.” He said, looking down the hallway as if he could spot Lynette coming in.

“Uh-huh,” Drake gave a courtly, wicked chuckle as if they were both nobles at a grand ball. It only irritated Alexander further. “Are you worried Lynette’s going to destroy you today?”

His weak grumble, “shut up,” affirmed the popsicle sticks and glue, holding his pride together after the multiple blows this week. This fucker. Her scent down the hall halted Alexander’s comeback attempt.

Drake, being ruthless, said, “Don’t start drooling,” and Alexander moved to hit his hip into him. Drake avoided it, sidestepping forward, and laughed.

“Fuck you.” Alexander slouched like the envy on his shoulders was a tangible weight. He thought it’d be nice to be as unfazed by Lynette as Drake. Alexander tried to do the same and distract himself from his instincts. Most times, it wouldn’t be effective, but her gaudy pink colored backpack did well to get his attention. He barely noticed the cute video-game characters and anime icons embroidered along it. Is she carrying lunch inside that thing? And similar to a toxic relationship, Alexander’s hunger drew him back.

With faint and cautious steps, she approached. Her sound heightened and dropped, struggling to maintain an upbeat pep. “Afternoon, guys.” She glanced at the time clock. “I’m glad I have a bit of time to talk to you both.” Is she going to bargain?

“Don’t tell me you quit after all,” Drake said. Alexander narrowed his eyes. It’d be beneficial for his own sanity if she did.

“No. I am sticking to my goal.” She looked at Alexander when she said that, re-establishing her declaration from yesterday. With a shake, she freed her hands from her sleeves and swung her bag to the front. She looped her arms through the straps and patted it reassuringly. “Have either of you played Battle Brothers Ultimate before?”

Alexander mentally questioned her motives. “Yes?”

“I haven’t played in months,” Drake said.

“Well, I have a proposition.” She ran her finger across the zipper. “How about we make bets for lunch instead?”

Unamused, Alexander furrowed his brows. He wouldn’t strike that kind of deal with her.

“So, the winner decides the outcome of that lunch period?” His best friend asked. Alexander exhaled loudly, showing his distaste for the idea. You can’t be going along with this, Drake. He sighed and figured it didn’t matter—Drake wasn’t interested in her blood, anyway.

“If any of you win a bet,” her tone trembled slightly, “I’ll surrender myself,” then, with a hopeful breath, added, “and if I win, I’m free for the day.”

A rejection built in his throat, ready for release. He groaned and held it as Lev made it to them and tiptoed behind Lynette. He leaned over, his head falling in line right next to hers, and spoke beside her ear. “Sounds lovely, Lynette~.” She pushed to the center of the hall, stupefied. She clutched and raised her backpack to shield most of her face.

She lowered it as he grinned unapologetically. “G-great. I wanted to include you, too...were you standing there listening the whole time?”

He shook his head. “The word bet was all I needed to hear.”

Lev ruined his plan to deny her. Two against one. “How would the rotation go, or are you implying you pick a ridiculous game for us daily?” Alexander asked. His gaze remained fixed on her. She lowered her bag.

“A winner would keep picking themselves, so I think it will be more convenient to go in order.” “I’ll go today, and since Lev is off the weekend, it’ll be you, Drake, and last, Lev. We’ll figure out the rest from there.”

“You had me at, playing games at work,” Drake said. A cocky grin popped on him. “Beating everyone at Battle Brothers would just be a bonus.” His best friend sucked at fighting games. Alexander knew that better than anyone.

“I’d love to contest that claim.” Lev’s eyes found Drake’s and, like a green light for go, it sparked a competitive verbal sparring match between the two. Excluding Lynette and Alexander.

Alexander despised that it sounded fun. He wouldn’t admit that to Lynette. I’m still pissed at you for yesterday. He released a defeated sigh. “You should put your stuff away. We gotta head in.”

Lynette bobbed her head and scurried off to put her backpack and jacket in break room one. As she did, he held up his calloused hands and flexed his fingers, wondering if his muscle memory would kick in during their match.

...

With everyone’s support secured, I enthusiastically arrived at the counter to work with Alexander for the day. This gives me a chance-!

“When did you get those?” Alexander asked as I rested my palms on the countertop.

I forgot the bruises on my wrists. “Oh.” Wicks didn’t mean it. I wore my jacket earlier to hide them from Wicks before I left and unintentionally hid them from everyone here when I got in. “Around 5 this morning? I was close to falling over the couch, and my brother, while saving me, gripped my wrists too tightly.” To ensure Alexander didn’t get the wrong impression of Wicks, I awkwardly added, “I’m like a banana. I bruise easily.” Does that make it sound more suspicious?

Meticulously, Alexander’s eyes scanned the pizzeria and everyone in it. There were a handful of people in the lobby, none of them by the cash desks. “Move back.”

I retreated a few steps, as he instructed. He moved over, blocking me from the others with his body, and stared down. Far below the menu, my spine hit the extra dips and sauces counter we had behind the registers. He paused, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

“Um, X-xander?” I shortened his name, so nervous I nearly forgot it. Then his pupils glowed—a signal that he was about to change his size to swallow me. I gasped and turned to run to the kitchen. He exclaimed, “stop!” I faltered and did. Unamused by my reaction, he lowered his sound and grumbled out an instruction, “lift your arms up.”

Trembling, I whispered, “why?” as I held my arms close. I remembered what he did the first day once he had my hands.

A low growl emanated from his throat. “I wouldn’t stupidly eat you outside lunch, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m going to fix them.”

In slight apprehension, I raised them for him to see and carefully watched that his body didn’t change. He touched my bruises with his sight alone. The subtle throbbing subsided. In a minute or two, the faint blue glow coming from his eyes disappeared, bringing them back to gray. I checked my wrists, and the bruises were gone. “I barely felt anything.”

He returned to his register, peeking over, and unlike before, his deep voice was smooth and resonant. It carried an authority that hinted at a knowledge of magic. “We call it reversal magic because it looks like it reverses time. Restoration to their original state is what it does for objects and people. For living beings, it will restore our bodies to what it considers a restored state. The more time you wait, the harder it is to fix it. Objects on the other hand have a shorter ‘restoration period’.”

Alexander is some kind of mythical being. Why does this feel unexpected? Until now, he’s been unfriendly and rude, and he hadn’t said anything more than a threat to me, besides the first day. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asked.

I looked back at my wrists and shook my head, resetting my thoughts. “No, I’m great.” Be thankful he helped you, Lynette. This might be progress.

He grunted, accepting my answer.

In a gentle gesture, I picked up my hand, nearly meeting his biceps. “Um, thank you for the time and effort.”

He was quiet. My gaze drifted to his face. He was looking downward at the counter with a grimace, his mouth puckered like he had something disgusting in it. Is he frustrated? Alexander huffed. “I’m going to get the effort I spent back anyway when I win.”

I withdrew my arm and shuddered with disgust. “I’m grateful you helped me, but I disagree.”

Alexander scoffed, derisively showing my lack of intimidation. He towers more than a foot taller, and his vocals are so incredibly deep and rough that his growls sound genuinely animalistic. How would I EVER scare him? “I told you, I’m not losing.”

The abrupt influx of patrons provided me with a convenient excuse to avoid any more bickering with my difficult coworker.

...

I finished rueing my short disposition in time for Drake to walk into the breakroom. I asked him for help to set up my console on the suspended television.

To maximize the chaos and improve my chances of winning, I enabled almost all items, except the air blaster and the home run bat.

“That’s going to be hectic.” Drake said, grabbing one of the several controllers I laid out on the table. He hopped and threw himself back beside me on the giant couch.

“That’s the point.” I said, making sure we were on three stocks and had a five-minute timer. Lev and Alexander took their seats, controllers in hand. Lev was at the opposite end of me and Alexander, next to Drake, between him and Lev.

I readjusted my sweaty hold. On the selection screen, I chose the key boy. Drake picked the cute girl dog from Zoo Folks Town, while Alexander chose the main protagonist of Identity 5 and Lev played the famous pocket monster.

“Wow, dude,” Drake jested, “but you won’t play Identity 5?”

If they hadn’t shown me, they were monsters, I would never have believed them. From beside him, Alexander mockingly snickered. “He’s a good fighter in Battle Bros. I have to pick him.”

He’s a good fighter? Please don’t mean what I think it means… I leaned over, looking beyond Drake to him. “Oh, so you’ve played a lot?”

Reminiscent of an anime villain, Alexander pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smirked. “Did I not mention the countless hours I poured into this game, including the grueling Nuzlocke’s?”

I threw myself back and sank into the cushions. Perfect. I ignored their teasing and clicked the random button. It summoned a wall-less stage for us, and the second we started, their characters chased me about the area.

“I thought you guys would act sportsmanlike!!” I squealed, mashing my buttons. I lost my first life on a failed recovery when Lev bullied me off. And when I figured I could catch my breath, the character Drake summoned sent mine into the stratosphere. He apologized in a whisper. Then, my terrible mistake—a poorly thrown bomb that damaged me—gave Alexander the opportunity to toss an item at my character and knock them off stage.

I sank into the soft cushions, drew my knees to my chest, and had the overwhelming compulsion to become a roly-poly.

Alexander, fixated on the screen, casually remarked, “are you sure you’ve played before?”

“I expected you guys might have played every once in a while. I didn’t know you did a 100 or more hours into it.” Lev and Alexander laughed, and I fought in my defense. “Plus, you both kept targeting me!”

Positioned on the far end of the couch, Lev’s chuckles persisted, echoing in the corner, “you always take out the weakest link first, Lynette.”

Alexander, in his bend forward, glanced over, “And if you’re out of the game, you can’t wi-” Lev smacked his character off the edge, “you ass!”

Next to be taken out was Drake. He reclined in his seat, observing the pair with me in quiet attentiveness. They stood up in front of the T.V., alongside one another, two stocks left on their characters.

“You should have picked a feasible bet,” Drake said.

“Yeah.”

Despite Drake’s unintentional delivery, his words sounded insulting. “Were you honestly expecting us to not know how to play?”

“I expected…” What did I expect? To be a god at this game? Why didn’t I pick something like Mascot Party? That’s a random chance. “I don’t know? The chaos of items to help me.” I put my knuckles to my forehead, blocking the screen with my arms. “I didn’t think they’d try to kill me right off the bat.”

“They have the incentive to take you out. Why wouldn’t you consider that?!”

“I assumed they’d play nice” I thought the two people who’ve tricked me would play fair. What was I thinking? “All I wanted was more days to enjoy my actual job.”

Drake’s judgmental stare transcended the bangs that normally made it impossible to get a good look at his eyes. “You like working the registers.”

I exclaimed, “Yeah!” I laid my head back and looked at the seamlessly endless ceiling. “My heart swells when customers smile at me, and I think it’s awesome to meet so many different people, even if it’s brief.” I adjusted my hat and subtly, trying not to call him out, asked. “Would you rather be eaten?”

Drake sharply turned, hissing, “No! I hate it.”

“Exactly.” I’m glad someone gets it.

He re-combed his black hair over his eyes and faced the screen again. “Your plan’s smart, though. Winning once or twice a week will probably keep them satisfied.”

“Thanks.” I quieted myself to a mutter. “If I could not be eaten permanently, that’d be great.”

“This is the best you’re gonna get,” Drake said. I knew he was right.

He scratched his head under his cap. “Oh, and also, uh, Lynette.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I feel touched you included me in that battle and all, but I don’t eat people.”

“I hoped if you said yes, you’d convince Alexander to join. You could give up your day to one of them, or-” I fake coughed, “me, please.”

“Ah, you used me.” Drake said.

I bowed my head in apology. “Not in malice! It was between me getting you on board, or trash talking Xander.” I don’t need him to have any more reasons to be merciless.

“YES!” Drake and I snapped to the screen to see Alexander won the sudden death. “Shit, I can’t believe I won that.”

In prideful defeat, Lev partially congratulated the winner. “You’re not half bad at the game. That was fun.”

He grinned broadly, “neither are you. I had no idea you even enjoyed this type of game, much less video games.”

“I like competition, video games or otherwise. I’ve played this Lacking Justice, Immortal Conflict, and the likes.”

“You play Lacking justice, too?”

The thought hit me at the same time Drake mentioned it. “I think you inadvertently made them soon to be friends.”

My lips whimpered in unexplainable sorrow. What have I done? What if they work together and correlate the best ways to beat me? The soft bell rang and flashed with my name above the door. Breaks over. In a last-ditch effort, I hoped I could get some pity if I was nice about losing. “Good job on your match, Xander.”

Alexander instantly tossed my sincere faith aside. “You lost so badly, it seemed you wanted me to win.”

I twisted on my heels, broken by his tease. “I’m leaving.”

...

Earlier, I crumbled at the registers. Alexander didn’t harshly ridicule me. However, his smug grin and abnormally cordial behavior toward customers felt like he did. WHY DID I ASSUME I WOULD BE THE BEST AT THE GAME! I blamed my mind, as if it plotted my downfall.

During lunch, Alexander got me back for yesterday in a way so horrid I almost preferred Lev. I’d rather forget than write it. Afterwards, I woke up in the nurses’ office. I don’t know why I imagined there would be a ‘lesser of two evils’. They eat people. What sane sentient being does that?! I thought Edgar might make them do it, so I’d quit, but Lev and Alexander seemed too happy to oblige for that to be the case. Either way, I wanted to stay in the infirmary bed.

I preferred not to move, though comfort prompted me to consider it. My arm crept up and rested over my eyes to shield them from the fluorescent hospital like lights. That’s much better. Hello darkness. I joked, and the song correlated to those words played in my head.

As I laid there, the recurring question about the menace’s slipped from my mouth, “what’s the point?”

Unexpectedly, someone answered me back. “The point of what, Miss Wayland?”

I sat up quickly and looked to my side. Standing stoically beside me was Tristan, the nurse with an unchanging expression. The picture of professionally composed. His neutrality, even when well-intentioned, mostly left me feeling like a failed experiment on a cold lab table.

Suppressing my shock, I let my fear out with a strong exhale through my nose, “Heeey, Tristan.”

My attempt at a casual rest turned into an undignified plop because I forgot there was nothing to lean on.

“Hello.” his eyes traced my few bounces on the bed. His flat line lips didn’t budge, not even a curl. “What was your question pertaining to?”

Up again, I asked, “is there a reason monsters eat people?” Worst-case scenario, he’d explain that me living through the process wasn’t normal. I gripped my knees at the possibility of them killing humans. What if they serve them on pizza? WHAT IF I’VE BEEN HELPING THEM SELL PIZZA WITH GROUND HUMANS.

“For energy.” He said.

And? I waited for more with pleading eyes.

He repeated himself, assuming I didn’t hear him, “for energy.”

My voice squeaked, “what kind of energy? Do you mean life energy?!” I scrambled on the bed, practically falling, and clutched the edges. “Are you saying my lifespan is shortening because of them?” I won’t survive the year! I jumped at the chance, like always, to curse my boss more.

Tristan’s serious and flat expression made my panic feel unrecognized, so I deflated as he stared down at me. He got the side of his rounded glasses and lifted them up. At first, I thought he was sporting the condescending sunglasses stare. Then I recoiled when I saw his eyeballs were gone. Where they should have been were like empty, sunken in sockets that matched his skin tone. It looked as if he was born without them.

The arches of his eyebrows moved down, showing he was concentrating on me.

“Your energy has reverted to its normally excessive amount. Your regeneration, much like every human, is fine.” He said, dropping his glasses back on his face. His eyeballs returned as he did.

I hesitantly asked, “are those magically making it so you have eyes?”

“Yes. I’m what humans would refer to as a slime. These glasses allow me to see the world as you do.” He stepped to his desk and addressed my earlier question. “Energy is what we need to function, same as humans, and we can gain it faster by taking it from other beings.” He pushed his lenses up. “Although most of us don’t eat sentient beings.”

So, I won the lottery with monsters who do.

“I see. So, my lifespan is safe?” I watched him walk back off. He held up the resignation. I shook my head, no.

Tristan lowered the paper. “It’s almost impossible for a monster to syphon energy fast enough to kill a human.” His chilly hand reached up and tapped my skin. “Except for a well-trained magus or prodigy, they can perform a rapid drain, which collects a massive amount of energy at the moment of touch.”

My face went pale, and I tilted to his grasp on me.

He lifted it. “I’m not a magus.”

“Right.”

“Sandra is a magus.”

“Oh, neat.”

What felt like ten minutes passed before we exchanged more dialogue. “Do you need anything else?” He asked.

“I think I’m fine.” I cleared my throat, steadily sliding off the bed. “T-thank you, Tristan.”

“Have a pleasant evening.”

“You too.” I left, picked up my things in the breakroom, and went home. I wanted to ask more, truly. My instinct to live, however, told me finding out someone working with us could kill me with a single touch was more than enough for one night.

...

Preview for the next chapter: 

She stomped toward me without regard for personal space. Her different colored eyes, one gray and one blue, danced around me like bouncing betties. I staggered, stepping away, but she ducked and circled me. When I attempted to time my escape, her uniform crawling up distracted me. Whoa, whoa, whoa! “M-miss-” My attention withdrew from her exposed abdomen to the extra set of arms springing out from her back. I wheezed as one shot out and wrapped around my torso, pinning down my arms, and the other kept patting at my face. Their pinkish gray texture was rough like pineapple skin, and when the noodle like arm twisted like taffy to press a hand next to my ear, I swore I heard a very faint humming. She brought her delicate hands to my cheeks, locking my eyes with hers. She then exhaled and groaned expressively in disappointment. Her hands let go, and the extended did too. They receded as fast as a released tape measure into her back. “This sucks, you’re just a lame-o human.”

AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY! (Non-negotiable).

( @bellascarousel, @the-golden-comet).

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What I’d do for a Livable Income - Master-List!

[thecoolerlucky]

Discord Exchange #6: Friendly

Characters from my story, "What I'd Do For A Livable Income"

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Discord Exchange #5: Diseases

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Dumb Discord Exchange #4: Liar

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Dumb Discord Exchange #3: Shift Swap

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Dumb Discord Exchange #2: Divorce

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Dumb Discord Exchange #1: Shipping

I'm sorry I haven't been very active. I've been busy with some personal life issues, but in the meantime, I think I'm posting these small conversations between my characters once a day.

Characters from my story, "What I'd Do For A Livable Income"

Picrew link for the art to do with your own characters, here.

AS ALWAYS HAVE A BOMBA DAY!! NONNEGOTIABLE.

[thecoolerlucky]

Chapter 7: How'd Your Plan Go, Lynette?~

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Not according to plan. (Angst and lore info )

Wordcount: 3,000+

"Why shouldn't I take a moment to savor my sweet little meal?"

__________________________________________

(Sept. 15th, Thursday)

Alexander didn't understand it.

Lev, who had always been candid about his dislike for making pizzas, let Alexander take the registers. When both of them worked together, and their boss didn't assign anyone specific to the front, Lev always insisted they play a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to determine who stays in the kitchen.

Despite Alexander's arguments about his indifference to where he worked in the pizzeria, Lev coaxed him into playing and losing every time. Lev's lack of effort to talk to Lynette also struck him as odd. The last time they all worked together, Lev showed a keen interest in getting her. Alexander wasn't aware of anything that happened between them. Not that he was in a position to judge—Alexander dreaded working next to someone so edible.

He made a conscious effort not to look at her, shit eyesight without his glasses or not. His eyes weren't the problem. It was his nose—oversaturated with her aroma and its promise to ease him. His stomach wouldn't stop nagging his brain with premeditated motives to grab her. A pivot, pinning of her arms, size-shift, and done. The temptation irritated him more than anything. He felt young and out of control again. No, Alexander realized it was foolish to think he managed it in the first place. It would never stop. His tongue rested under his teeth as he bit down. He'd follow the rules and keep himself in check.

Throughout the two hours, they exchanged very few words. Lynette occasionally asked him for something on his side, and he did the same to her. Other than that, Alexander was grateful she had the hang of everything else. The last thing he needed was to prolong their closeness. He drummed his fingers against the surface of the register, the sound punctuating the quietness. She hadn't mentioned a plan either. Did that mean she was done fighting, or did she forget? Rather than ignoring it, Alexander spoke up.

"No big plans today?" The deep, resonant thrum of his throat said. Its tone was more derisive than he meant. There was no reason to ridicule a presence that hardly represented competition or threat.

Lynette jumped at his voice's deep inflection like most people. After the grueling forced adaption of his body and the life-saving surgery, his sound was one thing he couldn't change. "I'll be fine today." She was shaky and projected little optimism.

"I'm not going to fall for the same trick twice," Alexander laced his warning in caution toward her and stole a glance from the corner of his eye. He couldn't shake off the discomfort of her surprisingly diminutive height. It was unsettling for him to see—he could almost envelop her face with just one hand.

Lynette's eyes remained down on her register. "Well, it's a good thing this plan is different." Alexander doubted she had something else up her short sleeved uniform. All he had to do was wait to take his lunch in the middle of their shift, and she couldn't escape. She abruptly turned and walked toward the kitchen doorway. "I'm going to lunch."

The lines weren't lengthy, just a few people scattered here and there, and Viola was ready to take his place at a moment's notice. So why did she leave? Her action allowed doubt to momentarily grip Alexander. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that maybe her confidence wasn't misplaced.

After a stiff exhale, he decided to go with the most plausible reason—Lynette played off a clever bluff, and he'd go to lunch to disprove it. Viola traded spots with him, and he was off. He trailed behind her scent, scanned out, and quickly found her in break room 1, his usual hangout spot. She backed to the door that interconnected breakroom 3 and 1. Did she believe she could outrun him? He was faster than her without size-shifting; he could bound the distance. He'd only have to be careful not to crash into her, but he could get to her before she left the room. She held her hands up like she was under arrest. Alexander tried to shut off his brain, convincing himself he was in no mood to talk. He got ready to size-shift, then noticed where her eyes led. They hadn't been on him—they looked at who was behind him.

Normally, everyone inside the building had some sort of smell. To Alexander, monsters didn't have unique differences in their aroma like humans. No two humans smelled the same, and he remembered everyone he encountered. Lynette's, in particular, was suffocating, like a thick syrup coagulated in the air around her, and because Alexander's range was so wide, the whole pizzeria was overtaken by it. Meanwhile, monsters smelled awful, the only exception being Drake, who smelled fine. His best friend's unique circumstances were the cause of that. With everyone else, Alexander learned to drown out the smell of other monsters. However, two people in the pizzeria were scentless.

And one of them, unfortunately, devoured monsters.

She pulled him back by his arm, almost playfully, so Lynette could flee to the next room. Alexander flipped back to Zilla, now knowing that Lynette sold his ass out.

...

I ran into break room 3, and the door shut behind me. Once it was closed, there weren't any noises from the other side. So, their confrontation would remain a mystery. My heart squeezed in rebellion to that decision.

Why do I feel guilty tricking Xander? He was going to eat me. I played fair. Or is it because this felt like less of my victory and more like I used someone else to win for me? Thinking that struck the nail head. I curled my lips apprehensively and hesitated to move ahead. I put both fists to my forehead and let out a quiet, anguished groan, "Aaarrgh." Why am I like this? It's not hard, don't look back. What do you expect to do? Go in there and ask Zilla not to eat him? Change her mind and hope he doesn't eat you. He's a monster, he will, and most importantly, you don't like being eaten. The chill, by the mere thought of it, ran up my spine like someone scrapped an icy rod along each column. Yet, I swiftly flipped around to head back.

I took not even a step, abruptly halted by another male's chest. "It's very nice of you to throw yourself at me, Lynette~." His heavy, honeyed tone hummed. I threw myself in the opposite direction. Where did he come from? I was so focused on running that I didn't check around me. His gaze danced across the floor meticulously, like he traced the path of each of my previous footsteps and tallied their exact location. Then, having gauged the distance between us, he leaned forward and poised like a predator about to pounce. Instinctively, I spun on my heel and fled.

I had never considered myself particularly fast—my only weekly activity was rock climbing, a non running sport. He slammed into me from behind and wrapped his muscular arms around my waist, anchoring me against his bent body before he effortlessly lifted me off my feet. My back pressed firmly into his chest.

I flailed my arms and legs wildly, mimicking a child in a temper tantrum. "Why are you at lunch, Lev." How could I forget about him? He works the same shift as me. I blamed it on the fact that he hadn't interacted with me much today, nor did Zilla say a thing about him.

His voice hovered just beside my ear, low and smooth. "Isn't it obvious?" His laughter reverberated against my back with its sinister caress. "You let yourself get eaten by Wendie on Monday, and I couldn't let that happen again."

What do you mean? As the truth dawned on me, a wave of dread told me to push harder. His grip felt looser when I did. "You were working with her!" This is the catch. There's always some kind of catch with everything! I threw my legs once more, and his arms let go. I collapsed to the ground, unable to catch myself because of his unexpected release. The next thing I knew, the room's stillness erupted with a loud POP.

It felt like a massive balloon had suddenly burst, releasing a powerful gust of air that swept over me with surprising strength. The rush of wind made it hard to get back on my feet. I was ready to turn around and glimpse at what happened to make that noise but disregarded that idea when the lights above me were swallowed. The shadow loomed, and I yelped as something curled around my legs.

I was dragged, and my palms and fingertips desperately slid across the surface. The tables were too far to reach. I gasped, exasperated when I no longer touched the ground. Hopelessly suspended in mid-air, my body curled up to cling to what held me and to keep my shirt from falling to my face. It looked to be an arm, much like my own, except with dark, near-crimson scales with black trim fanning in and out along it. The palm was padded, and its warmth made my legs sweat underneath my pants.

"Impressive core strength." A whisper brushed me with heat. Knowing how close he brought me made me lose my small grip on one of his fingers. Now, I hang entirely at his mercy. My eyes were locked on his mouth, which was uncomfortably level with my head. My heart raced with fear; refusing to look down, I tried to divert my attention to the rest of his face.

Some scales crept up the sides of his neck and face, like armor, though they looked to be moving. There were a few scales encasing horns, and two sets of horns jutted from his skull—one set small, curving inward, like the larger ones. His bangs fell perfectly, splitting around the horns carefully arranged. Everything else on his face looked surprisingly still human.

Barely being able to speak, blood slowly rushing to my head, I uttered, "Y-you look more human than I thought." His grip on my legs became even tighter, and I could feel the sharp pressure of his claws digging into the fabric of my jeans. I insulted him, didn't it?

Lev's grin rose, showing his ivory fangs that fit so well together they were like a bear trap. "Well, if I was in my actual form, you wouldn't be worth having." He lifted his other hand and pressed his clawed digit into my back, "speaking of having…" He brought me closer to his jaw, "Let me see why Wendie picked you." Opening it up, it looked like a suffocatingly black void. The only flash of color amidst the blackness was the pointed gray tongue, slick and serpentine.

I resisted the urge to kick and fight, thinking if I did, I'd become a stain on the floor for Viola to mop up later. His tongue approached my face, and I tightly shut my eyes to protect them. It shoved against my face, leaving a trail of unwanted, clear slime.

Once he flicked it off at my chin, I threw up one hand to wipe my eyes while the other still held my shirt. Ewww. It luckily didn't smell like anything; then again, if he was anything like Alexander exclusively eating humans, I wouldn't expect it to. There are so many better things to eat than people!

His spade-headed tail swayed excitedly, with hypnotic lashes from side to side, and behind closed lips, he played with the taste. He made sure I was watching and listening before he swallowed it. "Mmm, you're certainly the best human I've ever had, Lynette~" He delightfully murmured.

Afraid, I faced away—my hand still sloppily scraping off what I could. The rules didn't say anything about mentally hurting your coworkers, did they? No, it's strictly physical. "All my blood is rushing to my head-" I stopped when his face got closer, exhaling methodically over me.

"Go on," his tempo was gentle, even being as close as he was. I expected to lose my eardrums to the concussive blast from his height or for it to sound as bad as sitting next to a heavy metal concert speaker.

"I-if you're going to," he cut me off, licking me again. He put a finger to the back of my head so I couldn't get away as he got me much slower. Once he finished, I squeaked, "Just eat me already."

His eyelids dropped with his smirk. There was an evident satisfaction he indulged in hearing me whimper because my plea made his sharp pupils widen.

He remarked quietly, ignoring what I said. "You're shaking." His hand moved, making a cupping motion under me, and he released my legs so I slumped into his padded palm. The texture my arms brushed was akin to weathered burlap, coarse and prickly. I was larger than his hand, so I brought my legs close. My ponytail barely had anything but a few strands and I looked at him through scraggly curls. He inspect me, holding me so I only saw the top of his head and eyes. I was still as if his sight was based on movement.

He said he likes fear. And I was giving it to him. I had nowhere to go—jumping off would be certain death. He can't kill me. The reassuring thought meant little as his claws lingered overhead like a guillotine. One of them poked directly at the top, ready to pierce my skull.

"There's no reason to rush, Lynette. I have so much time left," he said, a mischievous glint flickering in his fixed and burning sun-yellow eyes. Lev tilted his hand down, and I was slipping closer to him. His grin widened, reveling in his devilish intentions. "Why shouldn't I take a moment to savor my sweet little meal?"

It was rhetorical, yet I answered, "Because you pity me."

"Oh, my dear, Lynette." He exhaled another breath over me, "not-at-all."

He proceeded to toy with me for the rest of his lunch period. Repeatedly running his tongue along my face and any limb I tried to fight him with. It was useless, and my body weakened the more he did it. It was similar to being inside Alexander, except it took much longer.

I freed several fatigued breaths. My muscles twitched, unable to move, and my eyes strained to stay open. "I wore you out, didn't I, poor thing." The condensation strode from his mouth and strangled me. "I wish I left you with enough energy to struggle." He dangled me above him, swinging back and forth until it all meshed together. The last thing I heard was his childish dissatisfaction. "It's a shame to eat something so alive and lifeless."

...

I sat up in the infirmary bed. Another bed squeak went off close to mine. Alexander got up from his, stretching his arms up as he did. He's here too? Does that mean he got eaten? I tensed at the thought. It's all so… I hunched forward. How could they be okay after doing that? There's just no point.

"Tristan said you're slightly dehydrated, but other than that, you're fine and healthy." Alexander patted the table beside his bed. He touched his hat several times, and the frustration on his brows deepened until his hand smacked down on his glasses. Is he really that blind? My head pitched the idea of hiding his glasses to keep himself from finding me. I'm not stealing a blind guy's glasses. He put them on and put on his hat afterward. He grumbled. "Jerk."

I shifted, gathering what few bearings I could, and sat at the edge of my bed. "I'm not a jerk!"

He snapped sharply, his expression read annoyance. "Like hell you aren't," he said, his voice raised in frustration. "You fucking sold my sorry ass to Zilla." He pushed his glasses up and scoffed with contempt. "And look at where that landed you. Back where you would have been if you just..." His voice trailed off, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

I stared at the floor, unable to raise my tone to match his. "She tricked me too, I-"

"Sure. Covering your ass."

I lifted my head, "I'm serious!" Seeing his stare, nothing but hunger, frightened me. Don't fight with him. "A-anyway, we-we're even. You tricked me into coming here, and I tricked you." I said, trying to make amends. Though arguably you've been worse because I don't do anything to you except get away from you. I hugged my upper arms. Lev's awful, too. Getting eaten, in general, is.

With a scrunched nose, Alexander groused, "Fine then, from here on out, you can talk to me all you want, but when lunch comes around, I'm not losing to you anymore."

Taking in a deep breath, I gulped, inching forward off the bed. "I'll do…whatever I can to keep that from happening."

He smiled seemingly done with me and our conversation. “Then,” grabbed the handle. "It's on." He threw the door open and left, shutting it as he did. I was alone in the room with my thoughts.

I threw myself back onto the bed and covered my eyes with the palms of my hands. Alexander is mad at me, great. Reaching any understanding there was gone. I don't want to do anything with Lev either. I tossed my head back and forth. Does avoiding them matter at this point; if I ditch Alexander, I get stuck with Lev. And I don't want to give myself to Alexander to avoid him. I sniffled in self pity. I just want to work

I ran my hands down my face. "I don't want to play their games." I focused on the word, games. They play video games. It was like my mind was attempting to comfort me with the positives today, finding out what I did and being reminded that Drake and Alexander play video games. Yeah, they play…games?

I lifted my fist to my mouth, biting the pointer finger gently. Would they agree to that? Maybe if I could get Drake on board, Alexander would bite. I didn't know about Lev. His schedule was different from mine anyway. Alexander was my everyday problem.

I scrambled up, hearing the door. I cocked my head, afraid it might be Alexander. It wasn't. The black-haired nurse met me the day I was hired; he was working registers then. I met him again last weekend on Saturday. He was very cut dry and to the point. He fixed his half-cut frames, "Sandra would have scolded me again if I didn't offer you the resignation slip like last time."

I pushed off the bed, took my hat from the bedside table, and though it was weak, I smiled with vigor. "I don't need it. Thank you for checking up on me, Tristan."

"You look happy?"

"I have a really dumb idea that might not work, but if it does, I'll be coming in here less!" I bowed my head to him, wishing him a good rest of the night, and went home to plot out what I'd do for this insane, luxurious, and livable income.

...

Preview for the next chapter: 

My head wanted to meet the counter so bad. The steady stream of customers kept me from indulging the urge. WHY DID I ASSUME I WOULD BE THE BEST AT THE GAME! I could really only beat Wicks, and he never plays video games!

AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY! (Non-negotiable).

( @bellascarousel, @the-golden-comet).

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up or check for release dates down below ↓

What I’d do for a Livable Income - Master-List!

[thecoolerlucky]

Chapter 6: Want Some Help?

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Lynette meets a monster eater? (Angst and lore info )

Wordcount: 3,900+

'Did I hear him right? Double?'

Side note: I am going to be writing these chapters a bit differently from now on. the names are no longer at the tops, and the first part of the sentence will be the indicator of who's talking.

__________________________________________

(Sept. 15th, Thursday)

I had a productive weekend of playing video games, sleeping, and…looking at other job opportunities. Not that I could ever get a job that would pay as much as they do, and if I left, they'd erase my memory.

I slumped, repeatedly tapping the B button on my controller to jump in place. It's not like I have substantial information about any of them. I felt as if I were outside with a bucket to collect rain on a sunny day, but all I had gathered was my sweat. The minimal knowledge I did collect came from researching posts online. Ignoring the countless iterations of monsters, there were a few common themes...well, only for Drake, and that was drinking blood. Drake seemed unfazed by sunlight, and I saw his reflection once, so I felt misled by common vampire myths. On top of that, there are too many monster types to guess for that creep, Lev, and Alexander didn't fit the marching around saying, "fe, fi, fo, fum" motif.

Thinking about it brought me to Wicks. He investigated me these past few days, blaming it on my uncharacteristic "dreadfulness." To the best of my ability, I withheld the whole truth and told him that the pizzeria was different from what I was used to—a 'hectic' environment—that's why I was out of it.

I clenched my controller grips and let the remorseful pressure weigh on my chest. What else could I tell him? My head felt like it was in a pinball machine with how many thoughts pinged inside it. What would he do if I did tell him? If he believed me, then what? Would he fight them? He was socially graceless with strangers, though he'd never let anyone disrespect me or the rest of our family. He had always defended me. This would be no different. He can't fight them. He's a human. They'd- I put my controller down and brought my legs up, cradling them into my chest. How many monsters are even around us if my pizzeria is full of them? How do they hide? Do they just have human forms? Or are they wearing a body? They don't wear bodies, right?

My mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one more pressing than the last. I had no one to turn to for answers. I couldn't just ask them.

The only person who seemed receptive was Drake, but he's friends with Alexander. If I ask Drake, he'd tell Alexander, and Alexander probably wouldn't like me snooping around.

My phone erupted on the coffee table with the default alarm jingle. I set it as a reminder to eat before leaving our apartment.

I dropped my legs, grabbed my phone, and turned it off. I lazily lifted myself from the couch and double-checked that my game was paused. Enough questions. I just eat my leftover Chinese food, get ready, and go to work to celebrate my first week. I pitifully threw my jazz hands in the air, "Yay."

...

I adjusted my uniform to give myself an excuse not to look up. The general and sparse chatter were my guide to where the time clock would be. Almost hitting the wall, I corrected my path a few times.

My footing slowed at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. "Miss me, Wendie?" Her vocals were strong, holding a fine-tuned rhythm. Like Lev's, they were a special resonance of self-assurance.

Popping up to investigate the voice owner, I first noticed her long, flamboyant, razor-cut hair. It was a light gray color, nearing white. She can't be that old. Her strands weren't brittle or stringy—they were luxurious and full. Her back was to me, but her hands rested on her wide hips, exuding confidence as she stood before the two who were much taller than her. Neither looked happy to see her. Lev's turret yellow eyes locked onto me when I looked at him. I immediately averted my gaze. I don't want his attention.

I faced the other wall across from them, changing my focus to the other girl. How many other employees do we have? My vision stared at a pair of worn dark jeans and shoes to match. I traced them up, noting the more average physique. Drake's back was to the wall, and his head was facing where the others were. He raised a hand, acknowledging me. In doing so, I looked at it more closely. His hand was slightly larger or…longer? It didn't appear disproportionate to the rest of his arm, which is why I never noticed. He also had sharp-tipped nails that were an obsidian shade at the ends.

Are they painted? He slipped his hand back into his pocket. I hope he didn't get self-conscious with me staring. In another attempt to be friendly, I moved closer to him. Species aside, Drake was the only semblance of normalcy I had so far from those on the night crew. Unlike the others, he acted calm and said nothing too daunting.

I kept a small distance between us, and amidst the others talking, I asked Drake, "Is she new?"

A halfhearted smile crept up on his face. He tilted his head near his shoulder in my direction—where he looked, because of his bangs, was still a mystery to me. "She's not new." He lowered himself to a whisper, "Zilla's an absolute nightmare who would happily murder you if it benefitted her."

HUH? I had little time to react as Zilla laughed aloud. Her shoulders came up, and her head bowed forward. She turned to Drake and me, "My hearing is nowhere near as good as yours, Drake, but you don't have to lie to the poor girl just because you're mad that I got you Tuesday."

Seeing her face, she wore all black: black lipstick, thick black eyeliner wings, and big black hoop earrings. Though the darker shades made her vibrant violet eyes shine brighter. Zilla approached, and Drake shrank back, nonverbally telling me, 'You're on your own.'

Her hips swayed with her walk, mortifyingly making me imagine her as a character from the game outside brawler, especially with her generous figure. "As Drake said, I'm Zilla. You must be Lynette?"

I bobbed my head, "Mhm." Much like everyone else, she was more intimidating than me. I held back my polite, "Nice to meet you," in case I'd jinx myself and she'd be as terrible as the others.

Behind her, right as she was in front of me, they took their opportunity to scan in. She softly exhaled and gazed back at the time clock, "we better scan in too." She slipped a hand behind my back and guided me to it with a light push. "I do deliveries, so we won't see each other much." She reached into her breast pocket, took out a piece of paper, and handed it to me. It had a number on it.

"Is this your number?" Oh no. A wave of unmistakable unease and queasiness entered my stomach.

Zilla snickered, "Not for the reason you're thinking." She leaned against the time clock, scanning her badge first. "I want you to text me when you go to break for a little proposition I have."

The unease lifted, soon replaced by disgust. I am not giving myself up like that again. I scanned my badge and didn't look at her. "If it's about-"

"It's not." She got off the timeclock and positioned herself to walk alongside me. "It'll benefit both of us," Zilla said, gently squeezing my shoulder and placing a finger to her lips, signaling that we would talk later.

Please don't prove what Drake told me was right. Besides, how would helping me benefit her? Did she even know what I was going to say? I would have thought more of it if my boss hadn't called out, "LYNETTE!" just before I reached the threshold to the registers.

Edgar quickly got his stained, expensive-looking apron off. "One moment!" He yelled, finding the empty hook for it. He shuffled from the table near the freezer, passing Lev, who was initially helping Edgar make dough. "Lev, pass that finished dough to Drake and take the registers until Lynette gets back," he moved past Drake and air-patted his shoulder. "Help me make the dough when you get that pizza rolling." Drake sulked at Edgar's preppy response and nodded. Lev walked over casually, passing by with nothing more than a grin.

Alexander glanced over at Zilla and me. She waited at the steel table for the pizzas he removed and packaged from the brick oven. Edgar made it to me. I looked at his off-putting uniform. Compared to the first day, seeing him in the same uniform as us with his black hair tied back felt wrong. He looks no different than us. I never had a boss like this. He lifted his hand to point back the way I came and twisted the palm to face him, seeing it covered in flour.

"Excuse me," he marched to the sink to wash his hands.

As he did so, I politely said, "You had some on your face, too." He splashed water on it and looked back at us to confirm he was flour-free. We both gave him a thumbs up. So there's just a problem with Alexander and Lev. Edgar even acts normal…I popped out an exhale. He acts normal, knowing his workers eat each other.

"Looking back to your sharp self, Boss," Zilla said.

Edgar wiped his hands on his jeans and pulled his uniform shirt to his face, ignoring the rags beside the sink, neatly folded and unused. He pointed out the door frame and into the halls, "Let's talk in my office."

Together, we entered the hall. "Am I in trouble?" I can't be. What could I have done wrong compared to the others?

"No, no, I wanted to talk to you about your performance. We have an evaluation at the end of the first week." Edgar gracefully waved his raised finger through the air. A satisfied smile spread as he spoke, "There's nothing wrong. In fact, if anything, you've truly exceeded my expectations." The unexpected, sincere praise ignited hope as if I was finally doing something right. Once we reached his office, he tapped the back of the seat across from his if I wanted to sit. And moved to his desk. Neither of us sat down. "Firstly, congratulations on staying the week, and thank you for upholding what you promised before you were hired. I've only heard compliments about you."

You've heard compliments about me? "You have?" How many customers have I served that are monsters?

"A few friends of mine spoke highly of your service when they came in," Edgar said, not quite looking at me and picking at the stack of folders on his desk." Because of that, I decided to…" he grunted, lifting up the piles of folders, he found a singular piece of paper which he handed to me. "Double your compensation at the end of the year."

Did I hear him right? Double? I got the paper, looked it over, and saw the previous agreement rewritten for the change of 8 million dollars at the end of one year of employment starting from my start date. "8-8 million." My right hand shook, holding the paper. I'd lose the money if I was terminated within rule reasoning. When I read over the rules of my contract, they were the same as a typical job except for the 'fair meal clause' and the clause on not talking about magic or monsters to nonmagic users who didn't know about it. "September 8th, if I last until that time next year, I get 8 million dollars?"

"Correct."

Should I prolong my torture for eight million dollars? That's so much money. I'd definitely be set for life. My brain chugged harder than the little engine that could. My best choice is to sign.

"You're not going to faint, are you? Your heart sounds erratic."

Sounds? He phrased that oddly, not that my brain settled on that. It was too busy trying to process the possible earnings. Ignoring tax, I'd make about $200,000 yearly with base pay. On top of that, $500,000 in six months and $8,000,000 in a year. That's nearly $9,000,000. "I-are you sure?" Asking him was not in my best interest, yet it came out purely due to my disbelief.

"I wouldn't have drawn up that contract if I wasn't. I'll get you a copy after you sign as well." Edgar said. I placed the paper down at his desk and took the pen he handed me.

"I'll do my best to keep it up, sir." Holding the pen between my fingers, I thought. He's not lying to me, right? He did invite me, knowing what they do and what Alexander does. Does he want me to suffer? I took a deep breath, tapped the pen to the paper, and let my barely legible signature do the talking. I won't let this keep me down. I'll figure something out.

"Great," he took the paper after I signed it, "Do you have any questions for me?"

Plenty! "I-" My mouth closed at my mind's request. I can't say anything to offend him now. What if he rips up the contract? He hasn't signed his name on it yet. Would it be lawful termination if I said something wrong to my boss?! He stood there, waiting for me to say something. I had to shake my head. "No. None that I can think of."

His eyebrows furrowed, "positive?"

"Yes, sir," I pointed behind myself to the door. I should leave in case I say something dumb. "Am I allowed to go back to work now?"

"Yes, and if you're feeling unwell later, Tristan is the head nurse today." The guy with the deadpan expression got it.

"Sounds good, thanks." I left, dazed for the next two hours alone at the registers. The offer's doubled now, so you can't run away. Not that I wanted to—things could always be worse.

...

The skipping thumps of her alluring and tender heartbeat broke Drake's concentration. The more energy a human had, the louder it shouted for his attention. They were a constant reminder of the ichor flowing inside their bodies. His gaze drifted from his phone screen to the wooden break room table. He kept himself from peering back at her entrance. He gave Alexander as little confirmation as possible that Lynette bothered him too.

Drake prided himself in every superiority over Alexander, no matter how insignificant. Thus, he acted like she had little draw on his instincts. As if she was the exception and being around her didn't fill his head with his sometimes cruel and very bloody intrusive thoughts. He wasn't as insatiable as his best friend—no, this overwhelming lure she possessed was new. His closest comparison was the rush of his first bite into a sentient living being and, with much destain, his real reason for drinking animal blood. To escape his current, aggravatingly foolish addiction.

Lynette awkwardly shuffled past them and to the couches. Her heart was near deafening, so much so that he barely caught Alexander's. Those whose blood wasn't human weren't as distinct, but Drake knew Alexander's like he knew how to walk. The blonde held himself back—the rumble of hunger and eager-to-satisfy beat was unmistakable.

Drake muttered under his breath, notable enough for Alexander to hear, when he caught his best friend's eyes following her.

"You seriously need to eat before coming in." The snide remark brought the daggers right to Drake.

"I eat every night," Alexander grumbled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he shifted in his seat. Another small victory for Drake. He wasn't foolish enough to let Alexander have the means to put him under scrutiny, nor did he want to face all the "I told you so "'s.

To prove a point, he didn't have to, Drake parted his lips. Being a vampire beast, his fangs were always prominent, so he often cupped his hands to his mouth to avoid exposing them. "Hey, Lynette," her heartbeat spiked, momentarily distracting Drake with its temptation. He kept talking when she looked back at them. "You like video games, right?"

Her hands sheepishly went near her chest like she was a shy character in the anime romcoms he'd never admit indulging in. "Yeah, why?"

He lifted his hand, beckoning her over with a gesture. Alexander sharply turned to Drake with a "what the hell are you doing" expression. Once she was near, Drake spoke, "So, there's this game called Identity 5…"

He paused, gauging her reaction. Her lit-up eyes told him enough. "I've played Identity 5 Royal, yeah. The battles get repetitive sometimes, but the story and unique tidbits in the game are soooo fun!" She gushed, a smile on her face—it was like her timidness faded, and she was no longer in the reality of working at the pizzeria.

He smiled back, adjusting his hat, "It's one of my top ten favorite games that I've been trying to get this guy to play," he jerked his head in Alexander's direction. "But he doesn't trust my opinions." He let the salt roll off his tongue with the accusation. It spurred a slight lip curl from Alexander.

Lynette shifted her gaze and lowered her head slightly, "I forgot you guys mentioned videogame stuff before." She looked back at him and exhaled a nervous chuckle, "I'm surprised monsters would like them since you guysss…" The S lingered and eventually trailed off.

Drake put the blood pouch to his mouth, "Our lives aren't as magical as you assume. We live on the same Earth as you."

She didn't accept that truth, "you can't tell me that your lives are not that different when you can drink blood without getting sick," her eyes hesitantly went to Alexander. He stared back as if trying to scare her. She backed down slightly but still motioned to him, "And you can grow to inhuman sizes to eat people."

Alexander huffed, "It's not that impressive. It's just size-shifting my body." Drake wanted to call him out on his bullshit. Drake knew how much effort and difficulty it required to change his size with magic and the minor adjustments he had to make with his body to ensure he wouldn't hurt the humans, such as making his sternum able to part in the middle. The mouth needed no tuning, as his jaw, much like Drake's, had the quadrate bone, and though Drake's wasn't prominent in his human-looking form, he also had the split in his jaw like Alexander.

"A normal human body isn't like yours," she shook her head, her curly ponytail danced rhythmically behind her. "It's astoundingly-." Drake figured she wanted to say something that would make Alexander uppity, "different." Alexander, especially to Drake, was one of the biggest abnormalities he knew, even more complicated than the other hybrid at their work, Zilla, and her twin Zane.

Drake sighed, "Internally, yeah, we're not the same, but externally, we're the closest you're going to get to humans."

"What do you mean? Everyone looks human to me. Besides all your weird eye and hair colors." He could tell she was pondering the validity of what he said.

"They're wearing human cases," Alexander said—Drake figured he would. His best friend was an idiot in most things, but magic wasn't one of them. "It seals a monster's actual body inside a case, and that case will take features, skin tones under fur, scales, a monster's eye colors, whatever it can to form them into the closest representation to a human." He nervously fiddled with his hands as he talked to her, more focused on what they were doing than on her. "The cases are adjusted if necessary to fit, and sometimes they don't need it if the monster resembles them naturally. Lev, Claudia, and Zilla are wearing them."

"Claudia?"

Drake smirked. Claudia was one of the most eccentric beings he knew and, in his opinion, given her antics, the least trustworthy. "She's on leave. She should be coming back any day now."

"I liked it when we had some peace," Alexander said.

Almost as quiet as a scurrying mouse, Lynette softly prayed, "And I'd like to work together as a team."

Drake heard the grunt, knowing Alexander readied a sarcastic comment. The sound of the door sliding open silenced him. Alexander's break alarm buzzed, and Drake went with him. He wasn't going to stay in the room with Zilla.

...

I watched Zilla stride past the two. She flashed a teasing smile and waved her fingers in a dramatic flourish. "Aw, leaving already?" she exclaimed, her voice light and melodic, echoing with mock disappointment. "Shame."

Drake didn't say a word, and Alexander grumbled dismissively in response. "Whatever."

Removing her hat, she ruffled her umber hands through her dense flourish of nearly white hair. "Those hats aren't flattering at all."

"Hey, Zilla." I forgot about the text I sent. I hope this wasn't a mistake. "How was-"

She grabbed the cushioned chair Drake had sat in earlier, slid it an inch away from mine, and sat down. I winced, awaiting her to say something as disturbing as the rest. "Don't be like that, Babe. I told you I have a proposition for you." She swung an arm over my shoulder and brought me in. It was an embarrassing position near her chest. I put my hands on her arm to lift it up. She gave me little resistance and spoke unabated with her unexpected deal, "How would you like to work with me to take care of your Alexander problem?"

I moved under her arm to get free and met her eyes. I couldn't tell if she was serious or not. Is she kidding? The idea of someone on the night crew wanting to work together was foreign. It made little sense. As I understand from the rules, once you get someone, you can't get another person, nor can another person get you. So what would she gain from helping me then? She isn't going to get me too.

"What would you gain from getting Alexander off my back?" I was reminded of the previous day I worked. "Again, I'm not offering myself to you or anything like that."

Zilla chortled heartily, her bright hue glinting with amusement, "Me, eat a human? You're funny." She ran her painted thumbnail along the corner of her mouth. "I enjoy finer prey such as monsters, which is why if you work with me to get Alexander, you won't have to deal with him."

Alexander did say he knows what it's like to be chased, didn't he? "By working together, you mean you want me to act as bait?"

"Go to lunch early, breakroom 1, make sure he knows you're going, I'll hide out, and you run into breakroom 3, and I'll get him for you."

This could be my way to prove my worth and work through my shifts. But for all I knew, this was another case of, 'too good to be true'. Zilla could be working with Alexander to make me go to lunch early just to get me. If that's it, it'll work only once. My options were depleted; I had to trust her anyway.

I slowly agreed. "Okay, I'll go to lunch a few minutes after six and meet you in break room 1."

Zilla let the words roll off her tongue in a pleasant, excited whirr, "Atta girl."

...

Below are a few "semi-real" (kinda) references I drew for the characters. I will post the rest on the next chapter!

Drake Clemente and Lev Lawless

Claudia Evadene and Alexander Chase

Preview for the next chapter: 

“I’m going to lunch.” Lynette said. The lines weren't lengthy, just a few people scattered here and there, and Viola was ready to take his place at a moment's notice. She left him confused enough to allow doubt to momentarily grip Alexander. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that maybe her confidence wasn't misplaced. After a stiff exhale, he decided to go with the most plausible reason—Lynette played off a clever bluff, and he'd go to lunch to disprove it.

AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY! (Non-negotiable)

( @bellascarousel, @the-golden-comet).

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What I’d do for a Livable Income - Master-List!

[thecoolerlucky]

Chapter 5: Him Or Me?

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Lynette's meets Lev (Slight angst, little goofs, and lore info)

Wordcount: 3,000+

'What makes you think you're the better choice?'

__________________________________________

Day 5 - (Sept. 12th, Monday)

Lynette

Sprawled across the bar counter overlooking our living room, I hugged my glass of orange juice close.

The day after I got away from Alexander, he got me by using Drake as a decoy, and after that, I avoided him again by using Drake as a decoy, too. I told Drake I was going to lunch early, in earshot of Alexander. He thought I was back there and looked for me. While he was getting into the watch position at break room 1, I snuck by and went to lunch before he noticed.

I was proud, even though I knew that was it.

I can't keep doing this. With a dissatisfied huff, I pressed the cold glass to my lips and took a nice, long swig. This is insane, or am I insane? Is this all in my head?

I slammed the glass down, less than half full, and gently rested my head on the smooth, crumb-free countertop. What kind of maniac wants to eat someone? I never thought of asking him, Drake, or Sandra. I was afraid of the answer.

I haven't talked to Edgar yet, either. Sandra said he apparently had 'good news' to tell me. I have some words for him, too. Thinking that way was more of a joke—I had nothing prepared to say. It's fine. He's off today, and this first week wasn't...

My cheek remained pressed against the polished wood, staring deeply into my OJ like it held the answers. What even is Alexander? For the past few days, I figured he was some sort of giant. All he did was grow taller. For supposedly working with monsters, none of them really look like monsters, either. Drake had weird eyes like Edgar, but Sandra and Viola looked normal.

Wait… The thought broke through my mind's barricades. How could Alexander work after doing something like that? I pushed the glass to my forehead. The cold condensation was enough of a shock to snap me out of it. No, that's not what you should care about, Lynette. Regardless, I get paid if it happens; who cares about the other stuff.

Blocked by the glass, my eyes drifted down my hand and to my forearm. Is that it? Not that it's an excuse. I let go of my OJ, lifted my head, and brought my arm close to my face. This is so weird. In a quick bob forward and back, I licked my arm.

I don't taste like anything! "Why is-" Looking ahead through the opening to the kitchen stood my brother. Did he see me do that? He opened his mouth to say something, shut it, and flipped around to face the coffee machine next to the fridge.

My vocals left in a sharp squeak, "Wicks!"

"Morning," He said, refusing to look back.

"It- I was-"

"I didn't see anything."

"No, please, let me explain." I laid across the counter, wobbling forward on the barstool, and reached my pitiful arms out like I could grab him, "Wiiiiiicks."

"Yes, Lentils?" As the coffee poured, droning behind him, he faced me. Gentle and understanding despite what he saw.

This is the worst. How could I explain this? I can't tell him anything about my job. I softly knocked my head down and changed the subject. "D- Did you sleep well?"

…

I put my lunch away inside breakroom two, planning to eat it during our break. It seems breakroom one is where they hang out.

Nothing was different in breakroom two—they all had the same layout, round scattered tables, chairs, kitchen, and T.V. area.

Cautiously, I moved out of breakroom two and into breakroom one. Nearing the door that led into the hall, I peeked out and looked at the time clock closest to the hallway split and the doorway to the kitchen. I saw Alexander there, but not Drake. He's off today, too. A different guy was talking to Alexander. Who's that?

Whoever it is, he doesn't look happy talking to them.

I left the safety of the break room. Get around them and scan in, Lynette. I thought it like it'd be simple.

A few steps in, my sneak attempt failed. The male swiftly locked onto me like an auto-turret, preparing to gun me down.

Out of his throat left a smooth, silken thrum, a pitch far too perfect for normal speech. "Ooooh~?"

He approached me. He was almost as tall as Alexander, perhaps just a touch shorter. His features were sharp, and he was fit, but unlike Alexander, he was slender, and his skin tone was similar to Wicks, a warm limestone.

My feet itched to step back when I encountered his canary yellow irises. They felt calculating, dashing over me and giving him every detail. "Uh, hi?"

He tipped his head curiously like a cat. "You're a new hire, huh? Here because of Wendie?"

Who's Wendie?

"Shut up," Alexander's much deeper growl called from next to the time clock.

A sly smirk rode the male's lips—however, his attention never left me. "I'm Lev," he offered me his hand, "nice to meet you…?" He trailed off expectantly.

I lifted my hand, accepting his handshake. "My name is Lynette."

"Well," his voice hummed, "Lynette." He let my hand go. "I'll be working with you today after our break." He took his hat out of his back pocket. "And I can't wait to know more about you." He put his cap down on his dark, choppy-cut blue hair and moved to the time clock without waiting for my response.

"C-cool, see you later, Lev." He's VERY different.

Alexander swiftly moved in and scanned his nametag, too. He didn't say a word to me.

I'd rather it be quiet between us anyhow. I scanned in, went to the registers, and quickly got through the first two hours of the day.

…

During my break, I sat alone at a table near the kitchen in breakroom two, eating my peanut butter and banana sandwich. Lev seemed weirdly nice? Then again, Drake wasn't awful to me.

Crunching through a few peanuts, I pretended not to notice Alexander coming in—it was harder to ignore him the closer he got to my table.

It's not lunch. Why is he coming over here?

Alexander pulled out the chair across from me and plopped down.

Timidly, I asked, "Wha-Aaat's up?"

He remained quiet and looked at the couches on the opposite end of the breakroom.

I chewed in the uncomfortable silence. What's his deal? Two more minutes later, he spoke.

"Go with me to lunch today." He said it sharply like an order.

Why would I do that? I finished up my sandwich. "If you promise you won't do what you've been trying to do to me every lunch, sure."

Alexander panned over to me, "It's him or me. You've got no choice."

What makes you think you're the better choice? I'd choose myself, thank you. I squared my shoulders, puffed out my chest, acted like a breeze wouldn't knock me over, and bluffed. "You expect me not to have a plan?"

His eyebrow raised, momentarily believing me, then Alexander pushed up his frames, "You didn't even know he was going to be here today."

"I thought around it."

Alexander leaned forward in his chair, a vexed smile cracked on his face, "you're full of it. There's no way you can hide from him, and certainly no way you're going to hide from my ass anymore." He pulled back with slight disgust, "Or do you want him to eat you?"

"I'd rather neither of you do that to me." His eyes glaring beyond his lenses were too formidable to stare back at. "How would you feel getting chased around and…" my tongue wrestled to keep the word back. It left quietly, "eaten."

He rolled his eyes, scoffed, and released an exaggerated exhale, "I know how it is."

"You do?" That's a lie. My body wouldn't let me accuse him. "Why would you do it to me if you know how it feels?!"

His gray hue narrowed, "Because I know the damnedhunger too."

I aimed to sound as frightening as he did with his deep, actual, animalistic-sounding growls and harshness. In actuality, I probably sounded like a mouse, "I won't give up on this."

"Wonderful,~" Lev's sweet serenade chirped. When did he come in? My lack of self-awareness was astonishing. He swayed behind my chair, going to the fridge. "It wouldn't be fun if you gave up too easily."

Alexander sighed and took out his phone.

I didn't respond either. I got up when the bell rang for me to go back.

...

At the counter, there was a stark contrast between Alexander and Lev. Alexander wore a hardened expression, and though he had a small smile, he was so imposing that I could tell most customers wanted to get through their orders and leave.

Meanwhile, Lev was very fluid with his height. He leaned on the counters, gesturing in suave, expressive mannerisms to communicate to those who came up.

He'd heartily laugh with them as if he'd known them for years and slide compliments regarding whatever crafts or passions they spoke about. He received numbers that way, exchanging playful banter before they left.

Appalled, I still worked, as usual, with an upbeat grin and pep to my step. I wanted the customers to feel understood, heard, and appreciated as they left.

"Your cute, lively, short stature makes them feel comfortable," Lev said, eyeing me from the side without turning his head. "You've worked in customer service before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, I used to work at Bullseyes in the electronics department."

There was a barely noticeable smile, "Then you got invited here, surrounded by monsters, and you chose to stay?"

That sums it up. "I did." He didn't face me. Should I assume the worst from him as well? "I…I don't suppose asking nicely will change your mind about coming after me, will it?"

Smoother than a freshly waxed bowling aisle, his chuckle filled my eardrums. "Not at all." His head craned to capture me better. "I'm very interested in why you were special enough to get Wendie to invite you."

"Does he not do it often?"

He expelled a sneered breath, "Ha," and cast his eyes ahead, "From what I understand, he's never done it before. It's sweet to know he's following in my footsteps." He lifted a hand and raised it above my head, "just with a much more persistent human."

That card he gave me did look old. My shoulders rose. So he really picked me to mess with, then? I moved to the left so I wasn't under his hovering hand.

Lev's body angled over me, "What's the matter?"

I created more distance. "I don't get the reason you all do that."

Lev readjusted his posture and went over the counter on his side. He placed an elbow down and put his chin in his palm.

He peered ahead at the customer, walking to the door from outside. "Why do we eat humans? It differs from monster to monster; some don't, and some do. But in my case…" The curl at his lips pulled them back enough to reflect his changed teeth. Lev's previous normal whites were now serrated and blade-like. "I love seeing and feeling their helpless, fearful writhing to escape me." He stood up straighter—a sinister, undisturbed calmness exuded from his breath. "It really makes their lesser flavor much more," Lev's final word left in a barely audible whisper, "appetizing."

He wasn't even looking at me. His attention was on the customer. He greeted them as they made it to our counter like nothing happened. Back to his original flirtatiously artful state, as if he was reset.

Confusion drew my eyes to my register. He said that, right? The sudden flip of his switch made me question it.

Business picked up and soon distracted me. Viola wasn't here today, so Lev or I went out to clean tables, and sometimes Sandra would come out from the back. And today, a nurse, much like Sandra, named Tristan, would take our place here during lunch.

Throughout the rest of our time, Lev occasionally teetered toward me as if I had something that interested him. He's doing it to mess with me…this is awful.

Around the corner, Alexander said, "I'm going to lunch." Its abruptness made me jump. Thanks for the heads up, I guess.

"What's got you so jumpy?" Lev neared.

"D-don't act all innocent." I slightly stuttered, playing with the keys on the register.

He shrugged his shoulders, veining an innocent persona. "You asked, and I answered honestly ." He twisted on his heels to look at me. "Speaking of, since I answered one of your questions, do you mind answering one of mine?"

I don't want to. Lev looked far too happy. I moved my hand and twisted my hips to meet him. "What is it?"

In a quick motion, he bent closer, leaving me no time to react. "Do you prefer being eaten head or feet first?" My shoulders leaped up once more seeing him lick the corner of his lip.

I stumbled backward, barely catching myself. "None!" What kind of question is that? His laughter played along my spine like a pair of drumsticks to a xylophone. I'm feeding into him, aren't I? He likes fear. I need to go. "I-I'm going to lunch."

"Aw, so you want to be Wendie's meal?"

"I don't want to be anyone's, that word-" On my heels, I turned, not wanting to hear anymore. Customers were coming up anyway, so he was too preoccupied to ridicule me.

What am I going to do? Lev seems so creepy, and Alexander is just aggressive. I wilted when I reached the time clock. Is it too much to ask to be left alone? I'd like a plain lunch period, please.

The thoughts swished in my head, similar to a swill of mouthwash in the morning. What if Lev's kidding with me? He could be playing some kind of bad prank.

My gut feeling said he was serious.

Do I really have to pick the "lesser of two evils?" I pulled out my phone, checked the wallet on the back for coins, and, finding none, had my browser flip the coin for me instead. Heads Alexander, tails Lev.

And, of course, it ended up with Alexander.

…

Alexander

As far as he was concerned, his whole situation was troublesome. She made a fool of him twice now. What the hell would she even be planning? She couldn't get Lev to eat me. He's not Zilla.

The ridiculousness hurt his head. Lev brought countless humans, and unlike Lynette, they never lasted. Yet she did, and I'm stuck with her damn scent everywhere.

He was relieved he didn't work with her today. He figured he'd lose what little composure he had.

He's probably wrapping her around his finger. He groaned externally and bounced his leg up and down in his seat. It's not like he can give her more reason to be here.

He shifted his head back, staring at the 'untouchable' ceiling. He followed along the support beams. I shouldn't have fucking invited her. I should have eaten her that day and been done with it. Now I gotta suffer wallowing in-

He jolted and stared at the break room door as it slid open.

He was about to say something, but she held up her phone and moved closer to his table.

"I flipped a coin, okay!" Her fairly strained and panicked voice let out. "I couldn't think of a plan, and I'm freaked out by Lev right now-" She stopped in front of his table and looked in the other direction.

Is this really happening?

"I don't want either of you to do that to me. I think it's disgusting, gross, and I hate it." She gasped and whimpered, hanging her head and putting her palms with her phone down on the table. "So please, if you're going to do it, just…do it quickly."

Involuntarily, he started to salivate, a trained automatic response his body did when he was going to eat someone.

He got up from his chair, not responding to her, only exhaling like he did the first day. He dared not say a word; he couldn't take any conversation with what he ate, not anymore.

Like every time he felt the imbued spark of magic burst inside him. He manipulated and molded it with his energy to his will.

It demanded his body to grow, each intricate detail getting larger as he clenched both hands around her forearms to pin them down. Her legs twitched, and her body tried to struggle briefly before he brought her off the ground.

This feels so slow. He cursed.

Her own eyes shut, and he, as always, did the same. Not that it mattered much when he started, but he didn't like looking at them before he did it.

…

Devouring someone made him lethargic. It was the only time his body had any semblance of peace from the neverending bombardment of starvation—that's why he sat back on the sofa when he finished.

"I don't think I've ever seen your guard so low." Lev's tease strummed near Alexander while his head was draped over the couch's back.

Alexander opened one eye to look at Lev, bending over the back next to his head.

With a grunt, Alexander closed his eye, "Why keep it up? I can't get eaten after eating someone, and Zilla isn't here today. She comes back tomorrow, though, so good luck."

"Maybe she'd get Drake," Lev said.

"Don't throw him under the bus, asshole."

"He shouldn't be standing in the road."

Alexander shifted his legs. He would have snapped back if his stamina wasn't fleeting.

Fuck it. "Whatever." He couldn't think straight with her. She gave his body an abnormally large abundance of what it needed faster than any other human. He was like a computer overloaded with data.

"That was lackluster," Lev said, expressing his disappointment.

Alexander grumbled.

"Alright," Lev pushed up, "Have your fun for now because she'll be mine on Thursday."

…

Lynette

As usual, Sandra offered me a resignation form when I woke up, and I declined.

The drive home was musicless, and my body collapsed on the front door to the apartment.

Maybe…I should quit. The brim of my hat pushed on the door, slowly going up and falling from the ponytail I looped through it. My head knocked at the door. It's so much money. I heard a few people at the other end of the hall near the elevator. I knelt down and picked up my hat. I should go in.

I raised my key-holding hand and, at the same time, stared into the little pizza mascot's pacman-shaped black eyes.

I tucked my cap under my arm, put my key in the lock, and griped between pouted, defeated lips. "Happy Pizzeria, more like psycho monsteria."

...

Preview for the next chapter: 

Removing her hat, she ruffled her hands through her razor cut, fluffed up white hair. "Those hats aren't flattering at all." She grabbed a chair, sliding it an inch away from mine. I winced, awaiting her to say something as disturbing as the rest. "Don't be like that, Babe. I've got an offer for you." She swung an arm over my shoulder, brought me in, and said the unexpected. "How would you like to work with me to take care of your Alexander problem." 

AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY! (Non-negotiable).

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