The Libra (Eric Derekson + S̀e̡̛͠p͡ţ͠į͜͡c̸̢ Egos G/T) (One-Shots)

How Did We Get Here (Part 1)

Eric didn't like it. He didn't like anything that was going on around him. It was so noisy with all of these people around, talking and laughing-- maybe about how out of place he was, but then again he doubted they'd waste their breaths on him-- and the stench of alcohol made it even harder to breathe than it already was. It took all of his effort just to keep upright, let alone pay attention to the conversation that his dad was having.

"So come on, tell me!" Derek laughed, slapping the man on the back whom he'd met barely ten minutes ago, "Give me some juicy gossip! Anything good around here?"

"Well, since you're new to town, I guess you wouldn't know about the... Monster, then?" Eric's breath hitched in his throat, and his hands wrung his handkerchief more tightly.

"Monster?" Derek huffed, "Is that the beer kicking in, or are you serious?"

"Oh, I'm serious all right." The man leaned forward with a grave look twinkling behind his sunglasses. "See, the story around here pal says that a man-eatin' beast haunts the forest next to town at night. I dunno who done started the rumor, but some guy-- Jim, Jerry, something like that-- apparently swore that he saw it: supposedly it came at him with hungry green eyes, and huge chompers with saliva coming off the fangs, and it took a swipe at him with these huge black claws. Still don't know which local is was, but everybody 'round here claims that he escaped with a gash on him the size of... Well, the size of an arm, I guess. Ran from deltoid to across the chest." Eric let out a peep of horror and swooned, wringing the yellow cloth between his fingers so tightly the circulation was cutting off. He quivered under the glare that Derek shot over his shoulder, ineffectively shutting him up.

"And this beast," Derek asked, turning back to the fellow tourist, "What type of man-eating beast is it?" The man laughed nervously.

"Who the hell knows? It made press news with all those conspiratorial reporters in the area, but hell if I know what's really going on. Probably just a rabid coyote." He nodded to the perspiring young Eric. "Best keep your boy away from those trees, all the same." Derek scowled.

"I know what's best for my son." He took his shot glass and downed the serving, slamming it back down onto the counter. Eric flinched, clutching his plain foulard as Derek fished his pocket for a thin and worn wallet. He tossed a bill on the counter, said his noisy goodbyes to his drinking buddy, and then he jerked his head at Eric for him to follow. Eric flashed the tourist a nervous smile-- receiving a tip of the ten-gallon hat in acknowledgement-- before hurrying after his father, who struggled to open the door for a few seconds before he finally managed to stagger out of the building. Eric hovered a few feet behind, close but not too close in case Derek tripped or did something else.

"D-D-Da-dad?" Eric asked timidly as they came out into the dark parking lot. "I-is-is-is it-do-do you think that-th-that- well, uh, m-maybe--?"

"Spit it out, boy," Derek snapped. "What?" Eric recoiled at his harsh tone and struggled to form a sentence.

"U-u-um, I-I-I uh, I-I meant, u-um, d-do you-do you think tha-that there's m-m-monsters in th-the-the-the w-woods?" He stuttered out, patting his forehead with the cloth before clutching it to his chest. Derek turned around, stopping the poor boy dead in his tracks.

"I hope so," he sneered as his words slurred, "If we catch this thing on camera, then it'll be the opportunity of a lifetime! We'll be famous, get job offers, and then we'll be out of that stupid trailer in no time! And maybe it'll scare you back to your senses... As if you had any to begin with." With those last growled words, the man spun around in a lopsided circle and continued on his way, still not walking completely straight as he headed toward an old run down trailer.