ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Books, Literature, and Writing»
  • Commercial & Creative Writing»
  • Creative Writing

Wafflemancer: Part 1

Updated on October 20, 2013


The Wafflemancer series follows John, an average Joe working at a Waffle House, and how his life completely changes after meeting a silver-haired girl named Lilith. Set in the same universe as Age of Vengeance and other works, this story takes place in the modern day.

Disclaimer

The Wafflemancer series uses strong language and may depict or reference drug-use as well as graphic violence. I do not condone nor support drug-use and use its depictions only to bring realism to the character(s) of this work of fiction.

Preface

The door to John's apartment creaks open as he steps inside. Just inside the door he takes his Waffle House hat off and throws it up onto his empty coat rack, pausing for a moment to run his hand through his short brown hair. Immediately, he makes his way towards his bedroom. The clock on his nightstand says 2:30am. He's home early tonight, normally working 3rd shift until 7am.

His biggest concern at the moment is his clothes. No matter how long he works for, at the end of the day, John can't stand the smell of waffles and onions on his clothes. Stripping off his uniform he takes it to the laundry room and starts a cycle. In nothing but his boxers now, something still feels off. He raises his arm to smell himself. Sure enough, sweat and onion is the scent that drifts up his nose.

Stepping out of the shower he looks himself in the mirror. His dull blue eyes stare back at him. He frowns. John is twenty years old, 5'6" and 115 lbs. No matter how hard he tries he just can't seem to gain weight. Staring closer he see's the problem that's really bothering him. Five o'clock shadow. He takes the time to shave, and when he's done he scrubs his bathroom down clean. Not something he does often, but tonight he felt the need.

The need to clean seemed to overwhelm him a bit. Tonight the place must be spotless. After vacuuming, doing the dishes, dusting, and every other menial chore he could think of, he finds himself sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing just a pair of shorts. For awhile he just sits there, contemplating the floor. Eventually, he sighs to himself and reaches under his bed for an old shoe box.

Looking to his right he glances out the window. Something catches his eye, causing him to walk up to the window with the shoe box in hand. Resting the box on the window sill, he stares up at the moon. It's bright, full and sporting a red haze around its edges. John laughs briefly to himself, fully aware of the implications of the omen.

"Ain't that about right." He murmurs to himself before lifting the lid to his shoe box. He returns his gaze to the moon, taking in its beauty. He sighs one last time before raising his .45 caliber pistol out of the box and up to his temple.

About an hour later a teenage girl with long silver hair finds herself standing in the middle of a blood soaked bedroom. Her luminescent baby blue eyes scanning the scene. Finally, they rest on the body laying face down near a window. She walks silently over to gory scene and crouches down beside him, her knees into her chest. Sliding her gaze up and down his body, she stops and sighs.

"Oh John, John. You can't escape me that easily." She whispers. She raises her hand and rests her index finger on his back, between his shoulder blade. A circle appears around where her finger rests. Made of various symbols, it almost looked like a tribal tattoo.

"You belong to me. My dear sweet John. My Familiar."

The symbols glow a fierce red on his skin. She removes her finger from his back and steam begins to rise from the spot it once held. The blood coating the wall and carpet begins to move. Sliding, slowly at first, back towards its previous owner. As flesh begins to knit itself together, re-closing the fresh wound, John's chest rises; a single breath, a last gasp of the dying. The former corpse rolls over, rising to a sitting position.

"Oh Shit. It's You."


Part 1

So I bet you're wondering what the hell just happened. I assure you there is a perfectly reasonable explanation. Maybe not rational by your definition of the word, but once you get over the crazy it starts to make sense. It all really boils down to the night I met Lilith.

It was just another night at the Waffle House. I was the third shift grill op on a Monday night in the middle of nowhere. As you can imagine, it was dead. And I was pretty bored. I had already finished all my side work that needed to be done before five. My friends who come visit me at work had already come and gone. The public WiFi had been down for some time with no sign of making a recovery. I was bored out of my mind, and there was only one thing that was going to change that.

So I'm standing out back smoking a cigarette and a joint at the same time, tobacco helps to cover the smell, when I see this girl crowded by three, maybe four guys. Her long silver hair caught me off guard at first, you don't see that every day around these parts. Upon closer inspection she couldn't be older than seventeen. Back here there are no security cameras and all the other buildings nearby were deserted. I was the only one seeing this, the only one who could do anything about it.

Now as you can imagine, as a twenty year old pothead working at the Waffle House, being a hero wasn't high up on my to do list. But, not even I could stand aside and watch some poor girl get hurt or worse. So I walk up to the guys and put my best stern employee look on.

“Hey what are you guys doing back here?” I ask quite loudly. “I'm sure you must have noticed the no loitering signs posted up everywhere.” Not my smoothest tactic, but it worked for spooking off kids when I wanted to smoke, so I figured why not? The biggest of the three turned and looked at me and I swear I've never seen a meaner mug in my life. A huge scar running down his right eye, a grizzled beard, and more than one tooth missing, But it wasn't him that caught my eye. That girl was staring at me with a look might as well have said “ Eat shit and die”. There wasn't a lot of light out back, but her eyes seemed to glow as she glared at me. However, it was too late at that point for me to let her handle it by herself.

“This doesn't concern you. Head back inside kid.” The mean muggin' one says to me. As you might imagine, I was not fond of the “kid” comment. Mustering up all my authority I looked him dead in the eye and I said to him “You need to leave or I'll call the police and have them escort you off the premises.” OK, so maybe that wasn't the best move. In hindsight I realize that the three burly men standing out back of a Waffle House, harassing a little girl were no one could see them, might not react well to being threatened with the police. In my defense, I was still a little buzzed and I couldn't think of anything else to say.

So the guy on Mean Muggin's left steps forward and takes a swing at me. Hampered reflexes equals John getting slugged in the jaw. I was not happy about this. I may be a little guy, but dammit I can hold my own. OK, under normal circumstances I can hold my own. Under these circumstances I amounted to the equivalent of a mosquito desperately trying to draw blood while mine was being pummeled out of me. I got a few good strikes in though. I managed to clock Mean Muggin' in his dome piece. As you can imagine, he was not happy about it. He pulls a switchblade out, and after dodging his first swing, his boys hold me back.

“Should'a left well enough alone.” He says as he slide the knife in my stomach. Now this is an interesting sensation, let me tell you. First I didn't feel anything at all. I just kinda stumbled backwards, staring at the blood on my hand. Then the wound began to ache, dull at first, then rising in intensity dramatically. There was this pressure, as if the knife was still there, as the ache became a burn. It wasn't long before the rising pain became too much to bare and I collapsed. The last thing I saw before everything went dark? That's a sight I’ll never forget as long as I live. Mean Muggin's face hitting the pavement right next to mine. His eyes rolled back and his mouth wide open. Blood splattered as soon as he dropped. Whether it was his or mine, I couldn't be sure. There wasn't time before everything went black.

And I died.

Comments

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • profile image

      Sandeep 2 years ago

      Time to face the music armed with this great inoarmotifn.

    • MG Legion profile image
      Author

      Michael 5 years ago from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina

      Thank you so much! I greatly appreciate the support. Hopefully it won't take me too long to finish part 2 :)

    • efeyas profile image

      efeyas 5 years ago from Some Sunny Beach, USA

      Voted up and awsome! I am going to follow you just so I can read part 2!