Wee Weasel Tales: The Beginning

Stormy Night, Weasel's Delight - Part 1

Here's the second chapter! Hope you guys enjoy it! 👍😁

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Ask the sailor adrift at sea, the hiker long lost in the woods, or even the soul separated from the body ...

To say that central Nevada was having a wild night ... would actually be putting it mildly. Thunder boomed and crashed among clouds as dark grey as gravel, that almost filled the entire sky. Rain poured down in torrents, almost like an ocean was being dumped from the sky above onto the ground.

Overhead, the moon shone down, cold and foreboding. The abandoned and locked up building named Willy's Wonderland stood, almost resolutely, right where it had always been.

Any port in a storm is welcome.

Graffiti streaked the walls outside, and planks of wood barred all of the windows. Miraculously, it was still intact; as if the restaurant itself was defying all efforts by the storm, nature and otherwise, to demolish it.

But what happens when the shelter ...

Great forks of lightning flashed and brightened the night as they stabbed down through the air and clouds, lighting up the Willy's Wonderland restaurant sign at the entrance.

Proves deadlier than the storm?

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For all the warning slogans on the outside of the building; inside, two men sat beside a small, simple cooking fire in the main hall of Willy's Wonderland.

The hall itself seemed to be just as dilapidated as the outside of the building; littered with scraps of rubbish, abandoned furniture etc. Dusty, framed posters of the restaurant's animatronic mascots lined the walls.

A bubbling saucepan was tied over the simple cooking fire, which was burning scraps of wood. The flames were the only thing illuminating the darkened hall, courtesy of the broken, dangling electric lights above.

The two men were dressed casually, and one was older than the other. The younger man wore a brown hoodie with a zip, and grey jeans. The older man wore dark sunglasses with green games, a maroon cap, and a dirty brown jacket over blue jeans.

"Hey, Susie-Q! Break up another one of those chairs, huh? The fire's getting low", the younger man called without turning around.

"Yeah, and we need more kindling too! Bring over that weasel rag doll on the counter to your left!" the older man added. There was then the sound of breaking wood in the darkness at the other end of the hall.

The aforementioned woman: Susie-Q, walked towards the men with the pieces of the broken chair in her arms, and the toy weasel on top. She had blonde hair, wore a brown jacket, dark pink shirt, blue jeans, and a grimace on her face.

"I don't care what you two say. These guys are as creepy as ******! How can you sleep here?" Susie-Q said, looking around her. The drifters weren't the only occupants in the main hall; the restaurant's mascots were also situated there.

Though strangely, the animatronics weren't on the stage ... standing in random positions all around the hall. Willy Weasel was the animatronic closest to the group.

The older man merely scoffed and took a spoonful of the food in the saucepan, as Susie-Q put the wood she was carrying in the fire. She set the weasel doll down beside the fire.

"You kidding me? This place is perfect! Me and Dusty have been here over a month"? the older man exclaimed. He then ate the spoonful. "Whoever owned it just up and split years ago just cause the cops raided the place after a couple people died or something", he added.

The older man then put down the spoon and turned to look at Susie-Q. "If you don't like it, you can always find somewhere else to stay", he said shortly and brusquely. Susie-Q glared defensively at him.

"Hey! I ain't complaining! Just feels like they're staring at me sometimes is all", she admitted. Then the woman suddenly cursed. "Dammit! Freakin' wood cut my hand good!" Susie-Q muttered, staring at her injured hand in disgust.

She was completely unaware that the orange weasel behind her had lifted its head slightly, eyes slowly widening with interest and evil intent. The older man just scoffed again, rising to his feet and looking at the again seemingly motionless Willy Weasel.

"Ain't nothing here but a buncha stuffed dummies", he jeered, lifting his left hand ... and slapping Willy across the nose hard!

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