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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1079991-The-Involuntary-Prank-War
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Horror/Scary · #2284649
Adventures In Living With The Mythical
#1079991 added November 15, 2024 at 11:16am
Restrictions: None
The Involuntary Prank War
          Gnomes. Even when they're helping. They're not. I swear. Gnomes. It's going to be on my freaking tombstone one day: "No more gnomes!" They protect the house, they say. From what? We never know. They protect our lawns form something, they claim. Not from moles, I can tell you that much. Not from dogs crapping on it either. So, what are we being saved from again? Class? From not looking like trailer trash rejects who hit the lottery?
          After our latest run-in with "The Nobility", we were all done in. Everyone wanted a break. Even Crash was tired of the werewolf shtick. He disappeared for a while off on an adventure with Mitch, then came back, stinking, growly, and not wanting to talk to anyone. His ears were flattened out and his muzzle showed more fang than fur. After that he didn't even show a sign of fur for days, spent most of the time walking around the house grumbling and growling in the evenings, and playing old video games in his room.
          Zack stayed in his room watching some old anime. I only caught a note of it here and there, but I think it was Full Metal Alchemist or something. I'm not entirely certain, though. Kris and Sean were gone more than home taking rides and spending time with each other and away from us. Not that I blamed them.
          No one was head over heals for each other, but we were healing. Healing and recovering in our own ways. Sometimes you have to work on yourself and your own issues first before you can assist someone else. It's even on the airline flight cards: put on your own oxygen mask on before helping someone with theirs. In essence, that's what we were all doing. Ensuring we could breathe for the next few weeks before we talked and decompressed with each other.
          Someone though, had different ideas. I spent a week away from the blog unwinding. That morning I'd decided to just sleep in. Why, I was going to be a real rebel, and sleep until eight in the morning! But as I rolled over, my bed made a creek, then wham. My bed literally falling apart woke me up better than an entire pot of coffee. But it certainly didn't put me in a good mood.
          "Who the hell," I snarled, bolting out of bed, and taking exactly two steps before twang. My right foot flew out from under me. I hopped a bit on my left, then collapsed and shouted "Damn it Crash! This isn't funny!"
          He stumbled into my bedroom, his hair a mess, and a yawn caught in his throat. "Why are you..." then he took two large sniffs. "Wait..." he began to sniff around more, starting to look up and down, even nearly resorting to putting his head down like a hunting dog on the trail of game.
          "Don't try to play this off," I growled. "And why did you use yarn?"
          It was at that moment Zack decided to come hopping in. Hopping because someone had apparently rigged his door frame to wrap his arms and legs up in brown yarn too. "Did you do this," he asked.
          "I don't even know how to do that," I said. "Give me a moment and I'll untie..."
          Crash bellowed as loud as he could, cutting me off. "Jason! Come cut me down!"
          "You." It didn't take me long to get untied. Though it was more difficult to explain to an increasingly vocal and grumbling werewolf that he was waiting in line as I cut Zack loose. We followed the growls and threats over to the stairwell where we found Crash hanging upside down like the worlds ugliest pinata.
          "How," I asked.
          "Gnomes," he snarled.
          "They're inside?!" Zack jumped back, his eyes darting this way and that as he looked. "I don't see any of them, though. Why aren't we plaster yet?"
          "That's cause they're house gnomes," Crash said. "Who are apparently unhappy with us at the moment."
          I cut Crash's arms loose, then gave him my pocket knife to he could reach up and cut the rest of himself down. Then we all backed up as he fell. He did not get up in a good mood. "I'm going to find those freaking yarn balls," He snarled, fur beginning to show on his face. The hunt was on.
          We heard laughter coming from the kitchen. It was as if the mice had an inside joke they didn't want to tell us. Crash attempted to sneak up on them. I was trying to slink around from the other side. Zack, well he was a bit mad at them. "I'll get you, you bastards," he snarled, racing down the hallway.
          Crash!
          No gnomes. Zack though, was in a heap nearly hogtied over by the kitchen table. "How," I scratched my head in confusion as Zack writhed on the ground.
          "They're quick. Let me go!"
          Crash was quick with my pocket knife, though he was looking as if he didn't need it. Dark thick nails had grown out from his hands with fur to match. "Uh, dude," I said, "You're night shift uniform is coming out."
          "Freakin gnomes," Crash said in response.
          That was most of the morning. We'd hear laughter. Try to sneak in on the room. One of us would end up with a table or something on top of him. Then we'd move to the other room. After the third time being hogtied, I had to call it quits, and laid up on the couch. "I'll shout if they tie me up," I said, limping over there. Thankfully, they left me alone.
          Zack was tied up three times. Crash tied up twice, suspended from the ceiling twice, and at least one time tripped on his way up stairs checking the basement. Kris and Sean? They came in late the night prior and was in bed for most of the bangs and snarling. So, they missed most of the fun. Leave it to Kris though.
          Crash was sneaking downstairs to the basement a third time trying to find out where the laughter was coming from, when Kris came down from his room. He glanced at a shelf and said, "where the heck did this thing come from," then came in the room carrying the dang thing by the head. "Which one of you thought this was funny? Jason...."
          "Hey you caught him," I shouted to him.
          "Caught who," Kris asked, then turned the gnome around to look at it. It was then the damn thing started screaming like a Furby with a dying battery.
          Kris almost dropped it. "What the hell," he said, then stepped backwards, almost tripping on the second one. "Gotcha," he shouted, picking it up.
          I got up and limped over towards Zack, just in time to pull him back. "Don't," I said.
          "You know what they did," he snarled.
          "Yes," I said. "And the footage will be hilarious if the security cameras caught it. But for now, don't."
          He glared at me, then stormed back to his room and slammed the door. "Okay, you little shits," I said, glaring at the gnomes, "why have you been torturing us?"
          Their eyes went wide when I said that word. "Not torture. Prank. Pranking you," they said in almost unison.
          "What are they saying," Kris asked.
          I held up a finger to him, then said to the gnomes. "No. Torture. Why?"
          "Valyur said your family is on the verge of breaking. Told us to prank you to help."
          "How long have you been here," I asked.
          They looked at each other, then back at me. "Since Kheid died."
          "What," Kris demanded more than asked.
          "Valyur's trying to help," I said.
          Valyur was a more traditional lawn gnome. Despite the fact that we could communicate, it wasn't going to happen in the day light so that was a conversation that would have to wait until nightfall.
          As Kris was holding the gnomes, Crash came up and said, "Good you found them," he snarled. Then grabbed them both and held them up to his face. "Unless you want to see what it feels like to be a werewolf's living chew toy, you will NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!"
          Both dolls audibly swallowed and said "yes sir!"
          Then he just dropped them. They scurried off, a look of terror in their eyes.
          Kris and I both looked at Crash and head-tilted. "Huh?"
          "House gnomes actually help you," he said. Then walked off without a word and went back to his room.
          That evening, I sat down with Valyur. He was less than apologetic about it. "This is the thanks I get for trying to look out for you," he snarled.
          "They nearly killed us," I snarled.
          "You big baby," he said, then patted my cheek. "You're still alive, meatie. Besides, they gave the werewolf the rougher stuff. And you guys need it."
          "We don't need house gnomes," I snapped.
          "Oh no? Who do you think kept your Nobility werewolf friends out of your house while you were gone? Did you think they just left this place alone?"
          "They were here," I asked.
          He nodded. "They tried to set a trap. Wanted the house to explode when you came home. One of their tricks. You go against them, they'll blow up yer home."
          "And the gnomes stopped it," I asked.
          "Well, you could say that. By the end, the two they sent were begging for mercy."
          "We don't need pranks," I said and stood. "Tell them to back off."
          "I heard your werewolf friend has already done that. Besides, you need somethin. I can see it. Your family unit is not holding up well, matey."
          "We're just fine. And matey? What are you, a damn pirate?"
          He snarled at me. "I'm the lawn gnome trying to keep the family together. Apparently I'm the only one tryin."
          Bitter bile rose up in my throat. I bit it back down and turned to go back inside. I got exactly two steps when Valyur called after me. "You never ask'em. Ask'em who he's huntin with now. How many of his hunts are getting noticed. He used to not make those mistakes before."
          Two more steps. Deep breaths. Clenched fists. Valyur of course, did not take the hint. "Why d'you think the couple keeps goin out all the time? They're lookin to nest elsewhere. They want out. They don't want you round."
          Another deep breath. Then I turned and gave Valyur as kind of a smile as I could. "Look," I said, "what Kris and Sean does and don't do on their time off is their own damn business. Sure as hell isn't mine. And I don't blame them for wanting to be away from me for a bit. Everyone has had to worry about me for the past lord knows how long. I nearly died Valyur. I just want peace for a bit."
          "Eye! You want peace. But do you want it together? Why don't you talk to each other? Is it because maybe, just maybe, you're starting to get sick of each other? You're growing apart?"
          It wasn't anything I wanted to hear. I ignored him and went back inside and slammed the door. I still don't want to think about such things. Crash is a big werewolf who has done his job a long time. It's not like he needs any of our help, is it? Not like he needs us to talk to him about it. Keep my head down, let him work it out. That's what's best. Kris and Sean are still good friends of mine. They just need time on their own. Zack? Well, he's Zack. Mr. Social/antisocial. He doesn't want or need my help. Besides, sticking your nose in your friends business is a good way to get it chopped off.
          If anyone needs to talk, they know where to find me. For now, I'll keep writing, keep reading, and maybe soon one of these magazines will actually pick up one of my stories. Hey, I've gotten close on a couple of stories to getting a sale. That's something, right?
          Things don't always have to be joyful to be happy. We may not be smiling at each other or having family sing-alongs in the living room after supper, but we still care for each other. Still help each other. still fight for and defend each other. If need be, we'll still die for each other. No that's not pranks and conversations, but it's something.
          Pranks and conversations will come later, after things settle down. We all just need time. And I for one want to help all my friends, help them recover and do what's necessary. But time I think is the best thing I can give them.

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1079991-The-Involuntary-Prank-War