Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Just Another Day at the Shop

    Share
    avatar
    Fear
    Exabyte

    Exabyte

    Posts : 1283
    Join date : 2013-09-04
    Location : The comfort of a grave
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Just Another Day at the Shop

    Post by Fear on Thu Mar 10, 2016 7:34 pm

    Time: 09:00
    Date: March 10th, 0006



    "You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life..."

    It was like this every morning when Fear worked the early shift at Kev's shop. The helmeted fiend swept the main floor, arranged the displays, alphabetized the merchandise, and made certain to keep everything well-stocked and as neat as possible. An orderly store was, in a way, an extension of his pride and professionalism; a sloppy store made for a piss-poor first impression! Of course, busying himself with menial labour and chores weren't the only perks he enjoyed. Far from it, in fact! His favourite (well, second favourite) thing to do while on shift was to have full, uncontested control of the store's radio. It's the little things, you know? Every day he worked, no matter what day it was, Fear always had a theme he wished to play. On some days, it was music from a period of time, such as the 70's or 80's. On others, it was music pertaining to a certain genre, like classical or rock n' roll. Rarely did the fiend bother with country or derogatory rap. And sometimes, every now and then, he wanted to play music solely from a band or orchestra.

    Today just so happened to be ABBA day, though mostly because their music reminded him of Kev; their tunes were also fairly catchy, and in such an obnoxious way! See the resemblance? Oh, if the alien ever found out or knew... Fear would never hear the end of it.

    And so there he was, in all his decrepit glory, out on the shop floor and sweeping between the rows of CDs and vinyls for the tenth time in the past hour. Mindless busywork, you say? Nonsense! Idle hands were the Devil's playthings, and Fear was not looking forward to meeting another demon anytime soon. "If you change your mind, I'm the firsssst in line! Honey, I'm ssstill free, take a chance on meee~!" And to think, he internally scoffed, that Kev didn't open up his shop sooner... Why, opening up at 08:00 was perfectly acceptable! Who bloody thought to buy a CD or... or whatever it is those youths had stuffed in their pockets, so early in the morning? This was the best time to listen to the radio, shuffle your feet a little to a lively tune, and spin around on the little round chair behind the cash register to the point of vomiting.

    Hey, what Kev didn't know didn't hurt him.

    "Hmm, mm, mm - ~" Ding, ding! ...Huh, a customer already? Well, this was quite early. Wonder who it could -

    "Heeeeey, Crypt Creeper, my maaaaan!"

    Oh, terrific...

    The bones in Fear's neck sharply cracked as he slooowly turned his unwavering gaze to the front door. There was only one customer who routinely had to annoy him. There was only one customer who put a dampener on his alone time. There was only one customer, only one, who just insisted on calling him Crypt, CREEPER. And his name was - "Eddie," Fear hissed through gritted teeth.

    Eddie, otherwise known as the local metal head, was a regular who only purchased metal. Nothing less, nothing more. Metal t-shirts, posters of metal bands, metal CDs... Christ, the kid would even purchase piercings and ear gauges if such ludicrous items were sold here. He wore more black than should be legally allowed - bloody hell, even his hair was dyed black! And he wore this... this sort of black eyeliner, the shade matching his equally pitch nails. If there was ever a reason to purge a teenager and spare the world this travesty, this was one of them. Sigh... customer satisfaction was just another polite way of saying 'marketable servitude'. Fear could hardly stop from rolling several sets of eyes.

    "Alright, Eddie..." he griped, pivoting on his leathery heels to face the teen. All happiness was gone. Completely and utterly gone. "What can I get you thisss time? And make it sssnappy. I don't have all day lissstening to your drivel about which metal bandsss are sssuperior to which."

    The long-haired, goatee-sporting deadbeat only laughed. "Whoooa, chill, Zombro! I'm only here to pick up my reserved copy of Four Horsemen's latest album, Götterdämmerung. I hear it's got some really wicked solos, and... say, is this ABBA playing?"

    Cue the awkward pause, followed by hesitant denial.

    "...No. And don't call me 'Zombro'!" Fear barked. This time he openly sighed, loudly, and gestured for Eddie to follow him to the register. "Anyway, jussst... get over here ssso I can ring you up and be rid of you."

    "Dude, this is totally ABBA."

    Mm...

    At the store counter, the ghoul's mood hardly improved. "Alright," he grumbled, taking a seat in front of the computer. Eddie happily stood in front, arms resting upon the desk as he leaned like a kid in a candy shop. The way that kid just looked at him sometimes, ugh... Lovers of the macabre were just weird. "...What did you order, again? Something about screaming men and incomprehensible, ssshitty lyrics?"

    "Oooh, someone definitely took a shit in your Wheaties this morning." But Eddie was still in high spirits, fairly used to City Noise's resident undead clerk. The grotesque corpse skin... the otherworldly malaise... the black iron helmet... Eddie didn't know what this guy's story was, but he was wicked cool. "You know, you could really pass for a band's mascot," he pointed out, undeterred by Fear's wilting glower. "Hey, just saying! Anyway, the band's called Four Horsemen, the CD Götterdämmerung. It's their newest album and I kinda think you'd like it, not gonna lie. Give it a listen!"

    "I'd rather tear out my own immortal sssoul and impale myssself with a sssilver blade..."

    "Brutal!"

    There was just no winning with some people. Fortunately for the superfiend's dwindling patience, he managed to locate the crate stored with all current pre-orders and fished around for Eddie's. Let's see... No, that was Queen... That was some guy called Eminem... This was N.W.A., and... aha! And here was one Four Horsemen CD, with a rather - holy shit! What the hell was on this cover!? Blood, blood, and oh - more blood. And dismemberment, and violence, and four very ghastly and extremely angry-looking, hyper-artistic renditions of four horsemen - perhaps the Four Horsemen - reaping the souls of their victims in only the most gruesome way possible. You know, this was kind of ironic... Especially the bit about the glowing eyes and emaciated frames. Fear studied the CD's jewel case in his hands repeatedly, flipping between its front and back.

    "Oh look," he remarked flatly, noticing the song titles. "I'm ssso glad to sssee a reputable band with pricelessss gemsss sssuch asss 'Kill Every Man, Woman, and Child' and 'I Ejaculate on the Throne of God'. Hmm!" He then reached over with that lanky arm of his, and - SMACK! - gave Eddie a righteous smack atop his darling little head.

    "Ow, hey! That's against so many things, man! I'm really tempted to tell your manager."

    "And I'm really tempted to call your mother!" the fiend snapped back. "Eddie! Eddie, what in the fresh, flying hell isss thisss crap!? You expect me to sssell thisss to you? Like hell I will, becaussse thisss here rating ssstates you need to be eighteen and over to purchasssse. You're not even a day passsst sssixteen, for Chrissst'sss sssake! Ssshouldn't you be lissstening to, oh I don't know, what all the other kidsss your age are lisssstening to?"

    Now that comment earned a huff out of the teen. "Yeah, you mean all that shit about objectifying women, hustling drugs, and carrying about materialistic wealth like it's the end all be all?" Eddie retorted. He finished rubbing the growing knot beneath his scalp and folded both arms across his chest. "I can listen to whatever I want to listen, because it's not like I actually believe in any of that. It sounds... It sounds cool, alright? That's it, it just sounds cool. I'm not a psychopath, I don't set little animals on fire, and I'm not a major scumbag. Call my mother and ask her about my grades and attendance at church if you don't believe me, jeez."

    "Mhm..." Alas! One cursory psychic scan of Eddie's brain was all it took to see that the kid wasn't lying. Talk about a shocker... Who knew Eddie was actually pretty competent in his choir? Fear held the CD up and pointed a stiff finger at his customer. "Alright, ssso I'll concede that you have a point about what kidsss lissssten to on the radio," he rasped. Eddie's face only brightened. "But that doesssn't mean I enjoy ssselling you thisss tassstelesss garbage." Another heavy sigh, another glance at the case's glossy front and back. Ugh... "And for the record?" Skeletal fingers inputted the CD's price and barcode, a total ringing up on the LED display. The gleam of hope returned in the teenager's eyes. He was getting his CD! "It'sss not like that - all the death, fire, dessstruction... Take it from me, kid. Omnicide isssn't asss gloriousss asss they make it out to be, and we mossst certainly didn't ejaculate on God'sss throne. In fact, there wasssn't any ejaculating." Exciting, and mighty gross, but... no. "That'll be 18.56, and will that be casssh or plassstic?" Oi... the shit people make these days and the kids willing to buy it.

    "Alright!" Eddie smiled. He swiftly pulled out a crumpled $20 and eagerly slid it forward. "See, I knew you weren't such a stiff." That earned him a look. "Er... um, y-you know, a real tightwad. O-oh, and cash."

    For a moment, things were quiet. There was just the sound of Fear ringing Eddie's order up and the cash register drawer opening with a loud scrape. Let's see... where were the dimes, where were the dimes... God, it was just so much easier dealing with Portal Breach's currency than it was American. How come there was American currency, anyhow...? This world was biased towards inferior currency!

    "So, um..." Oh boy, here we go... It didn't take a psychic to figure out what Eddie was going to ask. "Did you... Did you really commit omnicide?" Yep, like clockwork.

    If Fear was as mindless as he was two years ago, he would have told the kid to get lost or perhaps stop by the Outer District after hours to find out. But, seeing how the superfiend had undergone a few stressful developments in so short a time... He finished counting out the change and handed it to Eddie, along with his CD in a plastic bag and a receipt tucked inside. "You sssaid it bessst yourssself, Eddie," Fear rasped, leaning forward. "I look like I could be a massscot for a metal band. You tell me?"

    Eddie didn't have a response this time around. Not when the realization that the guy selling music and music paraphernalia in a music store was a mass murderer. He had always figured the animated corpse to be a magical henchman or goon, like in the movies. Certainly put things into perspective, didn't it? "I, uh... p-probably should go now," he said. Smart lad; and, weirdly enough, an overall good kid. "See you around, huh? Y'now, before you get the urge to, um..."

    "Bye, Eddie."

    The teen awkwardly collected his things and made his way toward the exit, but not before pausing halfway to look at the ghoul one last time. "...Y-You wouldn't really kill me, right?"

    "Bye, Eddie."

    "R-right! Later, dude!"

    And with that, Eddie scampered away, hightailing it out of there as fast, but as politely, as he could. Mom was going to be delighted to know that this'll be his last CD for a long, long while.

      Current date/time is Mon Nov 12, 2018 10:26 pm