Infantile Obsessions

Untitled Part 1

Well, I'm back again... I accidentally deleted all of this story, and believe me I was warned.. but technology and I don't get along.  Anyway, my wonderful readers, I'm re-doing all of my works so I'm reposting them, this story really hasn't changed, I know there's not alot, to begin with, but it was edited for clarity and I fixed parts that were awkward, well all of it is awkward but I'm making it less cringy... So feast your eyes on the new and improved version! -Patchez9 

A sharp knock sounded at the door. A man dressed in sweat-stained rags threw himself into my office. He obviously hadn't showered in a few days, and sweat slid off his bald head dripping into his mud-splattered, overgrown beard. His eyes were wild, and he held a soggy shoebox with holes in the top in his shaking hands. I covered my nose with the back of my hand. The stench was incredible; I was used to strong smells, but this creature was far worse than most anything I had encountered. The man's fingernails were encrusted in dirt, and he had split open his knuckles recently. I looked down in disgust as his blood splattered on my pristine white floor. The creature moved, and the smell intensified, the man tossed the box haphazardly on my desk, and I had to hurry to pull away some critical papers. He threw some tattered photographs on top of the table and took several frantic steps backward. The photos landed on top of the air holes in the box. The creature huffed in annoyance, and the images slid off. I darted to grab them before they hit the floor; the dirty man scrambled backward with my quick movement, tripping slightly over his mud-encrusted boots. I placed the photos upside-down on my desk and looked from my now filthy floor to him. I raised my eyebrows in annoyance, and my forehead wrinkled. The thing in the box moved, and we both jumped a little. His bloodshot brown eyes met my unnaturally light blue eye, and I placed my hands on my desk.

"You will be rewarded for your services, Uramus." My voice was smooth and emotionless. I tipped my head slightly and smiled, my black bangs dragged across my face and felt like sandpaper scraping my new scar.

"Ma'am, what kind of facility are you running here?" he asked in a slightly terrified voice. My smile widened, and I tipped my head farther to the side.

"A zoo for the unusual," I hissed, tossing my upper body in his direction. Uramus yelped and scrambled backward. He was only successful in tripping over his oversized and overused boots and came crashing down on his filth-coated rump. He frantically crawled over on his hands and knees, searching for the door. With all the noise, the little beast shuffled around in its enclosure, and I could hear the porcupine-like hairs scraping on the inside of the shoebox. I laughed at the sight: here was this fully-grown man scampering around like a rabbit all because of an animal no more extensive than your hand. I gleefully pulled my revolver from my belt and fired a warning shot. Uramus shrieked and covered his head. Plaster fell into my black hair, and smaller pieces floated around my face. The door flung open again my husband stumbled in. Uramus scrambled towards him and grasped his trouser leg.

"Help me!" he gasped, "she's crazy! She collects these things. You have to help me, please call the police! Call the rangers! Call anyone!" His usually deep voice was incredibly high pitched, and a giggle escaped my lips. My husband's green eyes flashed, and he kicked Uramus off him. The thing in the box grunted, mimicking the noises that Uramus now made.

"Until death do we part," My husband uttered as he crossed the room in seven smooth, strides. It seemed he was healing well from his last corrective lesson. He hugged me from behind, burying his nose in my shoulder, "The only thing crazier than her hobby is my love."

My husband's auburn hair had been slicked back in a small ponytail. I gently tugged on it, and he let me out of the tight embrace. I sat in my plush desk chair and unhooked the key ring from my belt. Unlocking the third drawer down, I pulled a small pouch of money out. The creature scrabbled and hissed in its makeshift cage, and I quickened my pace. I relocked the drawer and stood up. I smiled at my husband and pushed on his leg; sliding past him, I strode towards Uramus. A cold hand snaked out and gently pulled the revolver from my waistband. I looked coldly over my shoulder, and my husband returned the look with a smile as warm as the sun.