UnWanted Reunion (UnWilling Roommates book 2)

Chapter 15: The Conqueror and the Cat

Guess which is which.

(Y/N's POV is currently unavailable, so this chapter is brought to you by Tad Strange!)

Tad Strange sat on his throne and surveyed his domain.  It wasn't a throne made of humans like Bill had.  It wasn't made of bread, either.  That would just be tacky.

The base of the Fearamid, the widest part, consisted mostly of one huge room.  The dais was comically oversized compared to Strange's throne, since he was still human-sized.  The room was otherwise empty, Strange having removed the macabre décor left over from Bill's reign.

Y/N sat on a chair nearby, staring vacantly into space.  Strange monitored her closely through their connection, watching for any change in her mental state.

There!  It was no more than a flicker, but more than she should have been capable of.  Her eyes focused on him for a second, and her eyebrows twitched in irritation.

How is she doing this?!  he griped to himself.  How does she keep breaking through?  Vindictively, he quashed her errant thought.  Her eyes became zoned-out again.

He could feel his powers being amplified by the rift, but Strange wasn't a conqueror by nature.  He found the multitasking of keeping up his control over the town, as well as the bubble and his spell over Y/N, to be both taxing and irritating.

Maybe I'll return things as they were once Bill is dead, he thought tiredly.  Supreme dominance just doesn't suit me.

Khoshekh jumped onto his lap and he scratched the cat's head fondly.  "You wouldn't be satisfied if I left it at this, would you?" he asked the cat.  "No, you crave death and destruction.  Yes you do.  Aww, who's my little bloodthirsty kitty?" he crooned.  The cat purred in satisfaction.

Or, he smiled, maybe I'll absorb Bill's powers and rule the world with an iron fist. That works too.

Strange sensed the moment Will's bubble collapsed, the spell broken.  So, he thought.  Bill decided to play the hero after all.  I hope the irony of all this doesn't escape him.

Khoshekh looked up at him, a question evident in his eyes.

"No, there's no need to hunt them down," he told the cat.  "As long as I possess the object of their desire, they'll come to me soon enough."  He turned his eyes to Y/N, and scoffed in annoyance.  She had made a run for it, and gone halfway across the room without his notice.

He stood up abruptly, Khoshekh falling off his lap with a screech, and crossed to Y/N.  She pulled away when he grabbed her arm, throwing him off with a violent shake.  Strange pulled back indignantly.

"What is the problem here?" he asked aloud, not expecting an answer.  He probed her mind, severely perturbed by Y/N's continual resistance to his control.  He watched the light in her eyes dim as he crushed her in his mental grasp once again.  Dragging her back to her chair, white flames sprang up and bound her in place.  He stared into her vacant eyes as he contemplated some form of physical surgery that would leave her a permanent vegetable, then decided against it.  Y/N was only useful to him until the Ciphers arrived.

When they show up, I'll dispose of all three of them in one move, he decided.  He didn't consider himself a particularly violent person, but the idea brought him a certain malicious pleasure.

He returned to his throne and shored up his magical defenses, expecting to be attacked presently, but the evening dragged by and there was still no sign of the Ciphers.

What, are they asleep or something? he thought, irritated by their lateness.  Don't they have any sense of dramatic timing?

After another hour of anticlimactic silence, Strange decided to break up the monotony and go into town.

"Khoshekh, you're in charge of Y/N.  Contact me if those recalcitrant idiots show up," he instructed, sweeping out of the room impatiently.

Strange teleported to the main street.  As he'd expected, none of the passerby who were still out this late in the evening took notice of his sudden appearance.  He took note with a smirk that the bakery on the corner had a line stretching out the door.

Strange strolled through the town, ending up at a café with no real intent to eat.  He ordered a coffee, then tried to make conversation with the cashier.

"So, do you have any hobbies?" he asked her politely.

"I like baking bread!  And eating bread!" she chirped.

"That's nice.  Anything else?" he pressed.

She looked scandalized at the very thought.  Strange left quickly, put off by the one-dimensionality of his new subjects.  Perhaps I didn't think that spell through very well.  Just because my rule will be orderly doesn't mean it has to be boring.

Hmm... maybe I'll let Khoshekh loose on them for a change of pace.  The demon cat loved destruction as much as Strange loved bread.  Maybe in another life, he and Bill would have gotten along.  He shrugged off the silly thought, teleporting back to the throne room with his coffee.

The night continued to drag on.  Strange reconciled himself to the fact that the Ciphers were probably napping somewhere and would not be showing up to challenge him until morning.  He sipped his coffee, wondering how to occupy his time.

I can't play with my toy, since she's already broken, he mused.  The townspeople are duller than I'd expected, and I can't leave the town until I've absorbed Bill's powers.  How tiresome.

Khoshekh jumped back onto his lap, having forgiven Strange for throwing him off earlier.  Strange stroked his ears and he started purring like a chainsaw.

"Oh, well," he sighed.  "At least I still have you."

(A/N: Khoshekh is based on my own cat.  I can see the desire for world domination in her eyes. 

Also, since I've so cleverly ruined my main character's brain, my POV pattern has been shot to hell.  Which bothers my perfectionism, but it's necessary for the narrative.  So from here until the end, these chapters will mostly be from Bill and Will.  Enjoy the angst and tragedy, everyone!)