Hamilton One-Shots DISCONTINUED

Leeburr

This was requested by OwOWeirdo_. I hope it's to your satisfaction. Bon appétit. Enjoy :)

Age 7
Charles figured that he should have a headache. He understood that he didn't, but his head felt hollow and like it should be pounding. He tried to blink and was taken aback when he couldn't.

"C'mon Charles," he muttered to himself. "Get yourself together. You can blink for God's sake, it's less logical if you can't." He gathered his strength and closed and opened his eyelids like a normal functioning human being.

Lee winced since apparently blinking was now interlaced with stabbing pains in his head. He shook his head gently, trying to ignore the throb in his skull. "Where am I?" he wondered aloud.

A door opened somewhere above him, and Charles instinctively hid. A harsh voice yelled something and Charles felt his body tensing up as a figure was shoved roughly down the now-visible stairs.

The door was slammed and the figure curled up into a ball, sobbing. Charles watched the person warily for a few minutes before it became obvious that said person wasn't going to move.

He edged forwards out of his hiding place stiffly and said, "Excuse me, sir or ma'am, but I'm rather confused about my whereabouts. Could you perhaps tell me where I am?"

The figure screamed and jumped up, turning and running away from Charles. They pounder on the door sobbing, screaming, "Uncle Timothy, Uncle Timothy! There's a doll, Uncle Timothy, please let me out. I won't be bad again, I promise!"

Charles felt mildly offended at being called a doll, but then a light snapped on, probably to try and shut up the child, though Charles could now see it was male, up. He looked around the basement in disgust, eventually catching sight of himself in a mirror.

Charles' breath caught in his throat as he took in the porcelain body he currently donned. The boy cowered away from him at the top of the stairs, and Charles forced himself to blink again, not wanting to believe what he saw.

When his eyes opened, he was back to his relatively normal self, gangly limbs and black hair that never seemed to sit out of his eyes. The boy seemed to have stopped breathing, pushing so far into the door that Charles was surprised he hadn't already become part of it.

"Dreadfully sorry about scaring you," he apologized. "I'm Charles, what's your name?" The boy trembled as he made his way down the stairs.

"I'm Aaron," he mumbled from around his thumb, which had snuck its way into his mouth at some point. Charles held out a hand to shake Aaron's and the younger boy took it hesitantly. "What are you? Are you a demon, like the ones in horror films?" he asked with wide eyes.

Charles frowned, releasing Aaron's hand. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean," he confessed. "I assure you, good sir, that I am no demon, but I am unsure as to what a 'film' is, much less this 'horror' thing you speak of."

Aaron giggled. "You talk weird," he told Charles. "Horror's scary stuff, like ghosts and demons and monsters. My friend Alexander says that his parents watch horror films with him, but I bet he's lying."

Charles still felt confused. "So horror is a genre designed to disturb the reader as they make their way through the book?" he asked. Aaron nodded. "Ah, I see. And what is this film?"

Aaron sent him an incredulous look. "Come on, you must know what a DVD is! It's basic stuff! Even I know what films are, and Uncle Timothy tells me I'm stupid. Are you stupid mister?" he asked curiously.

Charles looked mildly offended and replied, "No! No matter what Hamilton might say, I'm not stupid." Aaron shrugged, sitting down. 

"Well, I dunno. You don't seem very bright mister," he said honestly. Strangely enough, his blunt honesty was endearing him to Charles.