“Vicious little thing,” the other giant pointed out with a scoff. Bowman opened his eyes to glance at him and quivered again. He couldn’t decide if that giant’s accusing glare or his captor’s complete fascination was more unsettling.
“L-let go, you wingless pile of snakeskin!” he managed to force out, putting his considerable reserves of defiance into his voice.
Dean would be a little more hesitant to stab if he was caught by a woman. Not so gung-ho with his knife, and trying to take things slower. He’ll still defend himself if he has to, but he’ll try to talk things out (laying on the charm real thick).
If Dean caught a tiny girl, he’d feel just awful XD As we’ve seen, both brothers flail when a girl or woman gets emotional on them, so some tears and he’ll be hard-pressed to keep her trapped. How dangerous can she be?
(If she’s sassy instead of teary, there will be many snark battles between them before they get anywhere. He can’t resist a sass off.)
Sam and Bree have more of a brother-sister relationship, and that would be enhanced if he grew up with her. He’d look out for her, and they’d grow close throughout the years, but he wouldn’t flirt with her. Krissy might not be his type, but he’d be more likely to flirt with her.
So, Oscar has been sold to the frigid Mina Chandler. Unfortunately, that isn’t the last he’s seen of troublesome changes in his life, as her job is merely to deliver. But to where, Oscar has no clue.
The roaring grew, and Oscar curled into a tighter ball. He was in the dark, but that was at least a comfort. The world around his small box prison shook with the sound of that massive engine, but he couldn’t see it at all. He didn’t have to watch the scary world that had swallowed him up and refused to release him.
He was an object. And he’d been sold.
He didn’t know where the plane was destined to go. The faint sensation of speed wormed in his gut as the enormous machine taxi’d, and he knew that wherever he was headed was far from his home. His space in a little motel in Breckenridge, Colorado was way beyond his reach now.
Oscar covered his ears with his hands to muffle the sound of that roaring engine, and thought of home. His makeshift table and spools for chairs. The shabby curtain in front of his pantry. The velvety ring box he used as a comfortable cushion while he worked on his sewing. A pile of blankets that he could burrow into to sleep at night and hide from the cold.
The plane jostled and shook as it picked up speed. Oscar grimaced and dragged the one piece of cloth he’d been given closer to himself. It didn’t hide him nearly enough.
The shaking suddenly changed. No more rumbles from speeding along the ground shook through his small body, only the engine’s roaring.
Gravity caught up as, a moment later, the world lurched upwards. Oscar cried out in fear and curled up again as an unseen force pushed him down into the bottom of the box. He was flying. It was just like the soaring feeling of a human grabbing him up, but thousands of times worse. The changing altitude hurt his ears like someone was pressing on either side of his head.
Oscar let his tears free. The pressure around his skull and concentrating on his ears hurt more than any headache he’d ever had. He couldn’t hear past the pounding in his own head as his body tried to cope with leaping miles into the air. For several long minutes, the pain drowned out all thoughts of where he was going. He couldn’t see the earth dropping away, but the terror of the very thought gripped him tight.
The entire plane shuddered again. Oscar was jostled out of his corner of the box and tossed against the opposite side by the turbulence. It knocked the wind out of him, but he didn’t take long to resume his frantic sobbing. The muscles in his hands hurt from clutching his blanket so tightly.
As the pressure mounted on his head and the fear and panic crackled through his every nerve, Oscar reached his breaking point. By the time the plane leveled off to carry him to his next destination, he was out cold.
At least in sleep he didn’t have to think. Blackness claimed him and his mind hid away from the fear of the unknown.
The pain that sliced through Dean’s hand was unexpected. “Sonova–!”
Instead of letting the sprite go like he might have done before, Dean cut off his cuss and brought up his free hand, releasing the sprite into the new hand and this time expertly winding his fingers around the tiny body to keep him from attacking again. Dean’s thumb came up beneath the little chin, preventing any bites.
“Chill, nibbler,” he groused. “No one’s hurting you.”
Near a forgettable motel in Breckenridge, Colorado, people are dying. Crushed beneath furniture and falling cars, the stories form a clear circle around the Knights Inn. Now Dean and his two tiny brothers, Sam and Jacob, are on their way to unravel the case and help all the motels’ residents– down to the very smallest.
‘You two are free to leave the bag?’ Did he really just …?
That was the last thing Oscar expected to hear, and so he kept watching curiously from his hiding place under the dresser. He had been scoping out the room for supplies and food, as was his usual. It was some ungodly hour of the night, so he really hadn’t expected someone to check in.
He’d barely made it to the floor in time from the top of the dresser when he heard a car pull up. The lock was turning with a metallic scraping that seemed so much louder in his frantic ears. Human! The dangerous word barked in his head. Oscar barely dragged his safety pin grappling hook under the dresser in time for the lights to switch on.
He had been about to breathe a sigh of relief, but his nerves amped up a few more steps when a loud crash filled the room. Oscar had peeked out to see what it was in time for the human to set down a second bag much more carefully than the first. The first duffel had sounded like it might be full of a bunch of spare parts, while the other looked like it held clothes.
Oscar couldn’t help but think things were completely backwards. The clothes bag could be tossed down without a care, but the other one was just obnoxiously loud.
And then of course came ‘You two are free to leave the bag,’ after moving a shirt away. Oscar frowned at the scene. He felt a sinking in his stomach that turned into plain fear when he saw two people, people his size climbing out of the clothes bag and onto the bed. He ducked back under the dresser, making sure he was in the shadows and out of sight.
His heart was pounding a frantic beat. Oscar’s entrance to the walls was nowhere near the dresser. He’d aimed to just wait until the human crashed into bed, and he could just avoid the room until he left. He could still do that, but now Oscar had the knowledge that two poor souls were captured by that human.
From the sounds of things, they were trained. They’d needed permission to get out of the duffel bag. That they were carried around in a bag like that in the first place put a sick feeling in Oscar’s stomach. What if they’d been jostled around? What if they fell out? Would the human care?
He definitely needed them all to go to sleep so he could get out of here before he joined those poor captives.
These three have been friends for quite a while by the time Bowman of Wellwood takes place. Even still, the events of the story tested their friendship at points, to be sure!
Chase and Jacob met each other first. When they were about 9, Jacob had barely put a year between himself and the death of his father. He became a much quieter kid around then, keeping to himself a lot more. This enabled him to notice another kid doing the same thing, though for very different reasons.
Qi Shi Lisong, nicknamed “Chase” by his dad to give him a more Americanized name, didn’t speak a lot of English when he and his family first moved to Jacob’s hometown of Carlisle, Iowa. Things had been rushed to get them moved, so he and his little sister didn’t have a lot of time to learn much before the move. He was incredibly shy and also dealing with his recent asthma diagnosis.
Jacob approached this shy kid and the rest, as they say, is history. Jacob helped Chase learn English faster (a side effect of this being that they sometimes talk similarly) and they played together at each other’s houses. They’re very close, and a part of that is probably because they took comfort in the friendship that came about right when they needed it the most.
A few years later, Bobby Loran moved to Carlisle from Texas, a definite contrast to the other two more laid back kids. The three of them ended up hanging out more and more often as a coincidence at first, and eventually he was in the fold as well. The three are known among their classmates as inseparable most of the time, a matched set.
Bobby thinks he’s the leader of their group. Chase doesn’t care. Jacob shrugs and lets him think that. They give each other endless shit regardless, and they really are close.
The out of place leaf fluttered to life of its own accord. Before the shape attached to it could dart away and out of range of the grab, Dean’s hand closed around it. A cry of terror yelped out of the small figure as leafy green wings were forced closed and confined along with the rest of its body.
Thanks to his experience with Sam and Jacob, Dean’s grab didn’t crush the little guy, but it would be hard to tell just from his reaction. He struggled valiantly, tiny legs kicking futilely in the closed fist while he tried to free his arms. He was a lot thinner and frailer than Dean’s hardy little brothers, a little wisp of a guy. Bright green eyes stared around without seeing as Logan rushed up next to Dean to see his catch.
Near a forgettable motel in Breckenridge, Colorado, people are dying. Crushed beneath furniture and falling cars, the stories form a clear circle around the Knights Inn. Now Dean and his two tiny brothers, Sam and Jacob, are on their way to unravel the case and help all the motels’ residents– down to the very smallest.
We will post all four of these stories before the poll switches up again! So, no new stories will appear until after the fourth story is nearing its close. This is because in the next round, we’re expecting some heavy hitters.
Important notice– It doesn’t matter how many times you vote for a story. Only your first vote will be counted and all others are discarded. Keep that in mind! It’s wasted effort, we will keep the poll fair for all.
Brothers Apart 