The Skeleton and the Student’s Library Adventure

The prompt given to me was ‘to choose any setting of choosing and focus only on a few objects. One of the characters has a particular distaste about an object chosen.’ This short story revolves around the two main characters from the Skulduggery Pleasant series by Derek Landy. Enjoy!

Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain walked into the library. The couple earned looks and stares which
they ignored. The Skeleton Detective pulled out a piece of paper and read an index number off it.
“KZ 247,” he read. He lifted his face, safely masked behind his façade. “Straight ahead.”
Valkyrie stuffed her hands in her coat pockets and reluctantly followed Skulduggery. She lightly stomped her feet as she did, purposefully defying the golden rule of libraries. Skulduggery grabbed a volume from the shelf and placed it on a nearby vacant desk. He sat down and motioned for his companion to do the same.
“You know, this will go a whole lot faster if you just set your mind to it,” said Skulduggery. Valkyrie huffed.
“I still cannot understand why we have to do this. I never heard of a mission with the objective of doing homework,” she said as she reached for the book. Sighing, she flipped it over and began reading ‘Late Medieval Periods of Britain and Ireland.’
“Ever since you and I partnered up, your grades have been slipping. Recently they have declined alarmingly. So I decided to help you with history since, well, I lived through some of it,” said Skulduggery.
“But what’s the point? It’s not like I’m ever going to end up a teacher or something.”
It was Skulduggery’s turn to sigh. “If you do not have the knowledge, then your Reflection doesn’t have it either. Which means that next time she takes a final exam for you, your results will be horrible. Following that, a series of disciplinary chain reaction will follow, and they will inevitable end up biting us in our proverbial behinds.”
“Well,” retorted Valkyrie “I can see why you want to tutor me. You are a smart ass after all.”
Skulduggery smiled. “Don’t forget ‘Genius’.”

Hisoka’s Second Time

Short Description: This story goes all the the hardcore HunterxHunter fans out there. this is a background story about Hisoka, before he becomes the mad magician that we all know and love. He’s still learning the ropes and discovers a peculiar thing about himself.

Hisoka was enjoying himself. Tapping his feet to the rhythms of violin and cello, the Magician allowed himself an uncharacteristic, genuine smile. This was a different setting from his upbringing: men and women in fancy clothes, wearing jewelry that residents from the Satellite would have butchered each other for, dancing to music that did not come out of an antique jukebox.
“Put those thoughts aside,” he repeated to himself for the hundredth time. As if on cue, the orchestra, hidden from sight thanks to an array of hats and hair-dos, switched to a more upbeat song; a jig if he could recall correctly from his days in the performing caravan.
Hisoka’s spirits uplifted as he shuffled across the dance floor. Never once did he allow his aura to run amok. He kept his cool, enjoying the empowerment that was taught to him. Like the predator that he was, his eyes never left the mark: the jester’s corner. His heart rate sped up at the sight of a gypsy. The pubescent teen took note of her brown eyes glittering under the chandeliers’ reflection, her wavy black hair and full breasts. Hisoka struggled with himself, desperate to keep his primitive instincts at bay. He felt himself drawn to her, felt the need to toy with her and finally, overpower her. It was clear to him that, unlike every man in the room, he could do and have anything he wanted. He was certainly powerful enough to do so. Pride and predatory hunger eventually won and served as his conviction.
He took a single deep breath as the orchestra commenced a waltz and couples flooded the dance floor, twirling like teacups in an amusement park. He stood very still and entered a state of Zetsu. His heartbeat dropped to one beat per second and all traces of his existence vanished.
One, two, Thee, One, Two, Three. He walked towards his prey at such a pace, weaving in and out of couples, like a gust of wind. No one took notice of him, bumped into him or questioned why he was the only one without a partner. He followed the woman as she spoke to a man and led him inside a room. Slipping behind the couple, he remained in the shadows. He watched as she pulled out a deck of tarot cards and read the man’s fortune. With newfound hope, the man got up and left a banknote on her table.
Hisoka had heard of her. A gypsy, rumored to be a descendant of Cassandra the Seer herself. She could read anyone’s fortune to the most minimal of details. Hisoka wanted, needed to verify this for himself. He giggled softly, his lips stretched into a gleeful smile. He had found her. Another remarkable person, a genius. Someone who could maybe, just maybe, stir an interest in him. Unable to control his rampaging emotion, Hisoka’s aura flared into a state of Ren. The girl spun as she sensed an intruder.
“Who is there? Come out!” she exclaimed as she made for a stiletto. From the shadows, he emerged, a maddened look in his eyes.
“Evening miss,” he saluted calmly.
“What were you doing, snooping around?”
“I simply wanted to verify your talents. I wish to be a client,” said Hisoka innocently. The woman cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced. Slowly Hisoka reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin.
“Money is not an issue.” The woman’s eye widened and motioned for the Magician to sit.
“What fortune would you like to be read?” she asked as she delicately traced the edges of her cards. Hisoka’s eyes followed the motion and licked his lips.
“Career. My future of course.” The gypsy smiled and pulled a card.
“The River. Prosperity, a full career,” she said. Fervently Hisoka slapped another coin on the table. The gypsy pulled another card.
“The Raven. Mystery and lies.” Hisoka’s heartbeat quickened and he visibly shook. He could see the woman’s every detail, every flaw. Her lips, moist and parted, a scar just under her chin, her heaving breasts, leaving little to the imagination as seen through her white linen shirt and those delicate fingers caressing the cards. Hisoka felt a tugging in his nether regions as he experienced the beginning of an erection.
“More,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse.
“The Eye, a search.” As he watched her perform, his erection grew. He placed more money on the table.
“The Devil. Evil.”
“More.”
“The Virgin, upturned. Deflowering and soiling.”
“More.”
“The Serpent. Madness.” Her eyes widened and her voice shook. Hisoka was shivering uncontrollably, his eyes full of ecstasy and lust. He had experienced it again. That lust; not for her immaculate beauty but her ability. Seeing his state the woman got up.
“Who are you?”
“I too am a magician,” replied Hisoka. “Let me show you my trick.” He reached over and pulled out a card from the deck.
“Ah. The Reaper. Death.” His eyes transfixed the gypsy who kept backing away from her strange client. Hisoka pushed every ounce of his aura on her, stunning her. Slowly he approached and pressed against her. With a grin, Hisoka pressed his lips against hers.
Strangely though, his erection dwindled. Unsure, Hisoka drove his tongue into the woman’s mouth and grinded their bodes against each other. As he felt his lust diminish, he grew desperate. He raised one hand and groped a breast, feeling its softness. All to no avail. Hisoka pulled away, tears forming in his eyes in disappointment. He grew desperate to experience an orgasm once again.
His gaze fell on the cards, still displaying his fortune. Maybe The Reaper had a solution to his problem. It dawned on Hisoka. He was not getting anything out of the woman now. He had bled her dry so to speak. The jig was up. He was no longer interested in her. There was but one thing left to do.
“It seems you and I must part ways here,” he said smoothly. Slowly he drew a fresh card from the deck and applied his aura on it. The Shu technique rendered the hardened paper as sharp as a metal knife. Smiling at his resurrected manhood, the Magician drew the card’s razor sharp edge against the woman’s throat.
He moaned as orgasmic fluids and blood gushed out from two separate sources. He flipped his weapon over, curious as to what he drew from the deck.
“How fitting.” The Jester waved back in grim agreement.

So. Here’s what I’ll be doing. From time to time, my insanity will overtake me and a mad alien clown will momentarily take possession of my limbs. It is during these times that the legion of voices in my head will by put to paper (or Word). And whoever stumbles across this madhouse may read what’s in my head. Pretty neat huh?