Stranded Hound: A Helluva Boss Fanfiction

Day 4

With an absolute killer of a back, Jim wakes up from his bed. He groans, feeling his back ache horribly. With a bit of struggle, he manages to sit himself upright, flexing his shoulders and neck before getting up.

"Bloody mattress, "Jim whines, before walking out of his room and back into his accustomed living room, into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee; he would need it for today, after all.

He puts the water to boil before deciding to go wash his face. He walks past the stranger's bedroom, noticing that she hadn't gotten out yet, as he could hear her just waking up. He waltzes his way into the bathroom, just about to wash his face, before he notices a familiar sight. Jim froze, taking a closer look; sure enough, there was a small clump of hair resting in the bathroom sink, the all too familiar white and dark-gray hair making its presence known. He picks it up, like the last specimen, narrowing his eyes.

Just as he took a closer look, the stranger finally made her way out of her bedroom, stretching her arms behind her head, before she noticed Jim about to ask her something. She froze, staring at him; "What?"

"Hey, matey, do you know where this has come from," Jim asks, genuinely curious, holding the little hairy clump in his hand.

The stranger stares at him, hesitating a bit, before answering; "Nope. I, uh... I don't know what that is."

Jim raises his eyebrow; "You sure? Because stuff like this appearing has only happened since you got here," Jim refutes, trying to get to the bottom of whoever was leaving it behind.

The stranger merely shakes her head, once again "confirming" that she was not the culprit; "Look, can you not interrogate me as soon as I get up," the stranger grunts.

Jim throws in the towel; "Sorry, sorry, just asking."

"Yeah, well," the stranger hesitates, trying to take the knots out of her hair with a brush she brought into her room; "stop asking so much."

Jim shrugs, at last washing his face and brewing his coffee. Jim opts to sit on the balcony, listening as his tenant once again begins playing some of the CDs; it was her only form of entertainment due to her phone being rendered useless with no connection, after all. A little while passes, the stranger opting to make her own breakfast again. Jim half expected her to make breakfast for him in generosity, though this hope was short lived when the tenant, smirking, responded with a simple yet blunt; "make it yourself, you grown ass man."

After making and eating his breakfast with the "help" of his "companion", Jim gets himself dressed for the day, as usual wearing his usual clothing. He puts on his hat, announcing that he would be leaving for a couple of hours. The stranger acknowledges with a mere "meh", preoccupied with listening to her music and having a nap.

An hour has passed, and by this time, Jim had driven himself in his accustomed "workhorse", doing as promised and heading to the police station to fill out his official 'witness statement'. After having to deal with a few piles of paperwork and legal agreements, Jim makes his way by foot further into town to buy some general goods he needed; polish for his Ute, a few bits of canned food like beans and the like, Engine Oil, and as a bit of an afterthought, a pair of new socks.

After being satisfied that he had everything he needed, Jim makes his way back to his car, turning the key, allowing the vehicle to roar back to life. For a bit of a longer drive, Jim decided to take the back roads for more of a scenic tour. His Ute makes its way up the winding dirt road, bumping around on the uneven track. He was admiring the view until the Ute began to lose power, spluttering and unable to accelerate.

"No... no, fuck off, come on... SHIT," Jim exclaims as he was forced to pull off to the side of the uneven dirt road.

He gets out in a huff, his hands on the side of his hips, thinking on what to do next. With a little bit of thinking and a lot more swearing, Jim opts to do the only thing he could. He grabs his keys, locks the car and walks home. Jim, at long last, arrived back to his property, cursing to himself about having to walk for a good fifteen minutes back to his house to retrieve his run-down lemon to tow his beloved, now disgraced, eighties workhorse back home. He thought about this begrudgingly as he walked, deeply frustrated; this train of thought, however, was lost after he observed, albeit for a moment, an incredibly strange animalistic shape walking through his front door and into his home. He froze, trying to process what exactly he had just momentarily seen, only able to catch its back before it invited itself in. Then he realised that the lady must still be in the home with whatever this creature was, which terrified him.