Fan Fiction ❯ Uninvited Guests ❯ One-Shot

Shivering underneath my afghan, I lay on my couch and hoped I was not getting the flu. While I froze, I broke a cold sweat, and my head swam. Waves of nausea rose in my gut, and threatened to dirty my beige carpet.

I turned my attention to the TV again. Whenever Jay Leno would say something funny enough to make me laugh, I coughed instead.

“This is so miserable! Why? Why now? I have a job interview tomorrow! I can't go in tomorrow and expect them to see a twenty-eight-year-old on his deathbed! Why did this have to start tonight?...” I rambled on a bit more to myself, aloud as usual.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the door to my study slam—I always keep that door closed.

I tried to stand up, but everything blacked out in tiny little squares, and that god-awful ringing in my ears started again. I fell to the ground. After a few moments, when my vision cleared, I swore I needed a cat scan, as I saw two very short men, one young, with long brown hair in a topknot, one old and stocky, with a long beard, a normal sized man about my age with red hair, and a big brutish fellow supporting another figure who wore long, black robes over a very skinny body.

All these people in my apartment did not faze me as much as their attire, though. As I lay on the floor, I noticed the bearded one, the red-haired one, and the brute all wore metal armor, much like what someone out of a medieval festival would wear.

“Uh… Who are… What are you… HUH?” was all I could get out of my slobbering mouth.

A confused look crossed all their faces, and the red-haired one said something I could not make out. I tried to stand up again but fell back down and rolled onto my back instead.

“Who the hell are you?” I finally managed to ask.

Again, the redhead said something I did not understand, but I noticed his voice seemed so melodic, almost as if he sang constantly.

The boy with the topknot began walking around my apartment, after a few minutes of watching the T.V. he started picking up things with deft hands. I hoped he did not steal anything.

The redhead turned to the bearded one, and said something else I could not quite make out. I realized they might not be speaking English.

I tried to get up again, and this time the two that had been talking came over and helped pull me up. When the redhead grabbed my hand, though, he turned to the robed one, said something, and continued helping me up to the couch.

The robed one lowered his hood, and pulled out a packet of what looked like tea, put it into a cup of hot water that seemed to have just poofed into existence, and handed it to me. I looked up at the person to thank them, and nearly dropped the tin cup onto the floor; he had wrinkled, golden skin, and hourglass shaped pupils! His hair was long and white, and when he touched my forehead, his hand was freezing cold.

I tasted the tea-like substance—very acidic, bitter, and bad in flavor. I tried to hand it back to him, but the redhead pushed it back into my hands.

“Behia,” he said. I was in no mood to argue, so I took it to mean “drink.”

Can't get much sicker than I already am… Bottoms up! After finishing off the drink in five hard gulps, I handed the now-empty mug back to the robed man. My head stopped swimming, and I regained some of my balance, though I did not feel up to standing just then.

Well, if they don't speak English, I can at least try to introduce myself, and see why they are here.

I pointed to my chest, and said “Richard.” When I got a puzzled look from everyone, I repeated the gesture and name.

The red-haired one then did the same but said “Tanis.” I nodded, and looked at the bearded one. He looked at Tanis, who nodded. I figured Tanis must be the leader. The bearded one turned back to me and said “Flint,” in a baritone voice. I thought of rocks, and underground caverns.

I looked at the boy.

“An? Des vo eha?” he asked Tanis.

“Do Vahana.”

The boy turned to me. “Tasslehoff.” His voice was cheery enough to lighten a ballroom.

I turned to the barbarian, but he was preoccupied fawning over the robed man. I noticed their facial features seemed similar, discounting the skin and eyes.

The robed one looked at me with his strange eyes—they sent a shiver up my spine—and said in a voice that reminded me of grating rocks, “Raistlin,” and pointing to the big one, “Caramon.”

I nodded, then, and stood up, using Tanis as a balancer before I started walking towards the kitchen; I noticed they all followed me. I turned on the faucet, and Flint yelled and jumped back several feet, then drew the axe, which I had not noticed before, off his back. He pointed at the faucet, and said something. Raistlin began speaking with his eyes closed—it sounded more like chanting—and then clapped his hands.

The next thing Flint said I was surprised to understand; “What magic is this? He created water, but he didn't cast anything?”

“Hold up!” I said. I hoped that he could understand me. “It's just a faucet. This lever here,” pulling the cold knob towards me, “opens a valve which lets the water flow here.” I put my hand under the stream. “That's all.”

He nodded, and put his axe away, but he still seemed ill at ease.

“Now, what are you all doing here? Why can I suddenly understand you? And who are you?”

Tanis spoke then. “We are adventurers from Solace. A magical black doorway opened up, and Tas just walked though it and disappeared, so the rest of us came though to make sure he would come back alive.”

I knew there was more too it, but I let it slide. Instead, I turned on the water and drank some from my hands.

“Listen—it's been great meeting you all, but I have a job interview tomorrow, so if you could just go back where you came from, that would be awesome.”

“We cannot,” Raistlin replied.

“And why not?”

“The doorway shut behind us. We are trapped here, with you. I don't like it any more than you do, so get used to it.”

I was not in the mood to deal with a bunch of deranged faire goers.

“Please, just leave, or I'll call the cops. I'm not in the mood for your fun and games.”

“The what?” piped up Tas.

“The cops. The police. The guys with guns.”

They all looked horribly confused.

“Look, I have to sleep. I have to go to bed. You can stay the night, but tomorrow, you have to find somewhere else to stay. I thank you for the drink—it really helped—and I'll buy you all breakfast tomorrow at McDonald's, but right now I need some rest.”

I did not wait for them to ask what McDonald's was before I turned around and went to my bedroom. I heard Tanis say something about “setting up watch” but I was too tired to care. I lay down in bed, and oblivion overtook me.