Modern Monsters

Tank the Orc

Female Reader x Male Monster

Do you decorate or not decorate? That's the question that bothers you every year as Halloween comes around. Considering you work in a mortuary you know people might feel it's a bit morbid to decorate for Halloween. On the other hand, you greatly enjoy it. You love the holiday and everything that goes with it.

You have a stare off with your box of decorations. A big wad of black tinsel with little orange pumpkins and white skeletons peaks over the edge. Back when you were an intern and working at a morgue, you had found that the height of comedy was propping up a skeleton near the entrance. Although, not many people seemed to enjoy it as much as you do.

You decide to decorate, and you would add things as the days drew closer and closer to the main event. You started with pumpkins on the stoop. You then added lights around the entrance the railing of the stairs. You then hung bats from the ceiling. It wasn't until you set the scarecrow outside that you received a call.

"I know it's scary," you explain to the woman who called. "It's Halloween, isn't that the point?" You scowl as the woman speaks. "The restaurant down the street from me has a cauldron of disembodied limbs, and yet my scarecrow is what scares you?" You look at the phone as the woman screams. "I know I have dead bodies in my basement. Your point?"

You hang up the phone with a huff and go about your work. You did give two shits what some PAT mom with a bad haircut thinks about your decorations. You like them. That's what counts most to you.

That evening though as you're leaving work, you open your front door to a massacre. You stare at your pumpkins, smashed and smooshed all over the stairs and the sidewalk in front of the building. You lights have been ripped out and are hanging your scarecrow from the tree. The scarecrows innards have been ripped out and replaced with smashed pumpkin guts.

You roll your eyes and huff. "My scarecrow was just sitting there, and you lynch him?" You grumble under your breath. "Yet I'm the scary one?" You look up at the scarecrow hanging, and you feel the rage boiling inside you.

"Can't reach it?" A low, growling voice asks.

You turn and see Tank. He's an elder in the village, one of the head orcs that all the young assholes listen to. You furrow your brow at him.

"OH I can, look at me, I'm seven feet tall!" You flap your arms out then huff. "What're uou doing here?"

Tank walks up beside you and reaches up, taking your scarecrow down from the tree. "I heard some woman bragging at the diner." He replies.

"Bragging?" You scoff. "Bitch."

"She is, but you're better at it." Tank unravels your scarecrow's neck and then sets him down on the stairs.

You smirk at him. He may be a grisled old orc, but there's a certain way to him you've always been attracted to. You walk up onto the stairs, so you're eye to eye with him and kiss him.

"You didn't just come all this way to see my smashing pumpkins did you?" You smirk at your own horrible joke.

He cocks a thick brow at you and scoffs. "Not anymore with a mouth like that."

You laugh and walk beside him. He puts his massive hand on the small of your back, and you feel powerful.

You and Tank have been fooling around for a while now. You had impressed him once you moved into town with your attitude and how you handled the biker gang that watches over the small town. Tank was one of the main leaders, the oldest and longest staying one in fact. Impressing a guy like him was a big deal.

But hey that's you, you may be short and petite, but you're a big deal.

Tank drives you home, and you slouch down in the seat. You've never let anyone get to you before not matter how hard they tried. You always remained above it. But this little attack has you bothered. Your smashed pumpkins, your poor martyr of a scarecrow. You had expected some noses to be turned up, but this was excessive. Not only that, just some smug Barabara or Karen of a woman was bragging about the attack out loud.