Fallen Angels - Ex-Contestant Stories
Sam the T-man:
For those of you not following The Seven Deadly Sims, I put two sims forward for it but neither made it through. I still had ideas for what turned out to be round one, and several contestants have said they'd like to hear their stories anyway, so I'm posting them here instead.
Two words to anyone following a certain story of mine on the adult board - spoiler alert! If you like surprises look away now...
Sam the T-man:
It's a little hard to talk about something that's part of your personality. They call laziness a sin, but what about those of us who are born lazy? Oh trust me, it's possible, and it's not as cushy as it sounds. In fact it's outright draining – imagine feeling ready to sleep half-way through the day? It's even worse when you're naturally bothered by mess too. Conflict of interests? You bet. In fact that's partly why I asked Gino's Mum to bite me – up all night without feeling lethargic? Yes please! Okay, so I can't get out during the day, but I couldn't do that much before. I was either at work or curled up on the couch, when I wasn't forcing myself to go round the house on a cleaning spree anyway.
Still, for some reason that's not all there is to this “sloth”; defined in the early days as apathy, depression, sadness... I could go on forever about this one. Well, not quite as I'll have to water it down a little, but anyway...
It started when I was about five years old. An age where you naturally get curious about the facts of life, but out of the children who ask “how did we get here?”, how many parents in reply tell them they got taken by aliens? How many of those would be serious about it too? If I was pink instead of green maybe I would have laughed. Instead however, as Mum showed me a photo the alien in question had given him to show me, I cried.
My head continued to spin as I got older, wondering all sorts of things about my father. At the age of twelve I met a cousin of mine called Leanne, but the look on the adults' faces when she turned up sparked questions of a different nature. As Sarah – Gino's Mum and married to my Mum (his Dad) – explained as best she could that Leanne was in fact an accident, something about that rattled me. Whether it was my empathetic nature kicking in or something else I don't know, but either way it was something else to keep my impending adolescence from being a happy one.
It was during that time I first met Gino properly. Before then he'd had dinner with us, but I never had a chance then to talk to him myself. He was one of the first people I confessed to about my misgivings, and the first of many who'd tell me “Don't let it get to you.” My reply of “I can't help it” had ended up being a catchphrase of mine, I'd used it so much. I still do in fact, and it's true.
Another person I'd confide in was a girl I'd thought as a child was called Gina, and despite being told different later on it stuck. As we got older we bonded, and started dating. It was during that time we got to know each other's quirks, and when I got my nickname. In that way at least, she's the polar opposite of me – hyper-active with an appetite that put pigeons to shame. She also has a silly streak a mile wide, whereas I tend to think too much. It wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't so sensitive, but add the two together and you have big problems. It was mainly down to her being so laid back that helped to put me at ease, at least back then. After I got bitten and getting convinced to do the same to Gina, we settled into our new house and everything was great. We ended up getting married, and my deep-rooted longing for children got fulfilled with the birth of our twin boys, Chris and Andy (Andy being the green one).
Our working life beforehand paid dividends, which was just as well since, as the twins got older, Gina fell again. We both got the shock of our lives on finding out she was expecting no less than four babies, and with little boys to look after too, we needed to find a bigger house. Still, we coped as best we could, heaving a big sigh of relief when the boys got old enough to look after themselves as they wound up taking a turn in looking after the new arrivals – all girls. Little did we know at the time however, that what Chris and Andy were to go through would pale my turbulent teenage years into insignificance.
I was doing some cleaning one night, and was walking past their room on the way to the bathroom – well, one of them. Only vampires have sensitive hearing; if I was mortal I probably would have been none the wiser and gone on my way, but I'm not. I heard something filtering through their door and backed away a little to check I wasn't hearing things. Still not convinced I beckoned Gina over to join me, but the look on her face told me it wasn't just me. We had to scurry over to our room and lock ourselves in so we could vent in peace; once the shock had subsided we vowed to have strong words with them the next night. We did just that too, but the scene got uglier than I'd hoped for.
Gina nearly lost it, to the point where I had to send her up to her punch bag. I felt like doing the same, but I know explosions do more harm than good so I managed to contain myself as I spoke to them both. Only Chris is like me, intense yet sensitive; given his size lately, he could earn his own nickname of “Gentle Giant”. Seeing me worked up literally drove him to tears, and even though Andy gets his carefree nature from his Mum he wasn't much better. Things haven't been the same in this house since, and that was then.
About one, two months down the line the atmosphere was still strained. I tried my best to carry on, although deep inside my mind was still reeling from the shock. Gina was still angry, and those two no doubt picked up on it. Chris certainly did, he became more and more withdrawn as time went by, while Andy merely simmered. He didn't show it often, but it was in his eyes. I tried to make him see things from our point of view but the shutters went up; he thought I was going the same way as his Mum. To be honest I wish I did; apparently it's healthier to feel angry than it is to feel hurt or upset. Yet all I could ask of whoever would listen was “What did I do to deserve this?!” With everything else and now this, I felt as though I was being punished.
That sentence I'd been given for whatever crime I'd committed got no lighter. About a week or so later, my daytime slumber got disturbed by a heavy rapping on the lid of my coffin, and I woke to find Andy pacing anxiously about the room.
“Dad!” he greeted me, “I'm worried about Chris; he's been in the bathroom ages, and he's not answering when I knock.”
“Which one?” I asked expectantly with a frown. Given his mood lately I didn't know whether to be worried or not. As Andy led me to the door however, what began as an innocent knocking quickly took a sinister turn when a familiar scent wafted through the gaps between the door and frame.
“What the...?” I remarked to myself, taking in another deep breath through my nose.
Is that what I think it is?
My in-built predatory senses kicked in as I started to sniff at the gaps, and my stomach turned as the scent of blood now detected was overpowering. Remembering who was inside was enough to pull me out of predator mode and back into parent mode as I broke the lock on the door, opened it to investigate... and screamed.
It took every ounce of the will I had left to pull me into action. It was too late to call an ambulance; he'd be dead by the time it got here. He was nearly there already... we don't make a habit of biting kids, and my youngest half-brother was enough to remind me of why (he's another story), but we were faced with no other option. It was Gina who did the honours as she was nearer, but while she tended the near-fatal wound in his wrist something caught my eye.
“What's that?” I asked.
She frowned before looking down at the back of his wrist, and my heart sank at the sight of lacerations on his arm in various states of repair.
“Oh Chris,” I heard Andy mutter as she continued her work. I would have said similar if I hadn't felt robbed of my ability to speak. Instead I bit softly on my lip in a bid to still my quaking jaw, tears flowing down my cheeks as I began to wonder how long he'd been doing this to himself, and more importantly, why?
That day – and night when Chris joined us on our hunt – was the last time I'd felt able to let my emotions go in the only way I knew how, through tears. Andy bought him a cure the next day, not wanting for his sake to see him stay a fifteen year old forever. Thankfully he took it and began to get back to normal, although I couldn't help but notice how the pair of them seemed to be down with some kind of stomach bug. At first we put it down to their immune systems being low after all that'd happened, but this carried on for over a month. We both told them to get themselves checked out, but they seemed to prefer playing the waiting game. In the meantime my afore-mentioned younger half-brother was getting married, and he'd asked me to be his best man. Another whose antics had gotten under my skin – I warned you I could go on forever.
Still, it meant I could invite my own guests. Some time ago, the alien being who fathered me decided to come down to Earth in a bid to finally meet his children, and the first he met was me. We hit it off instantly, and I'd managed to bond so well with him I decided to invite him to the wedding. It never occurred to me at the time that I'd be so grateful that he turned up, but that's just what happened, especially with news of my two boys spreading through the families. They were looking groggy even while we were waiting to start, and by now the craziest of theories was running through my head. I was out of other options, and besides they were showing other, very familiar symptoms that I'd seen before in my wife. I decided to corner Dad when I got the chance and run it by him – if anyone could put me right, or take me seriously if need be, it was him.
“Oh it's possible,” he said casually, “In fact that's why we instinctively went for the men here at first, we just assumed...” He trailed off as I shook my head, not the wisest of things to do considering how much it was now spinning.
“No, no,” I groaned, “That's not the answer I was hoping for...!”
“Why, what's wrong?”
I looked at him with pleading eyes. “It's Chris and Andy,” I whimpered, “I really hoped they were down with a persistent stomach bug...”
Knowing what so many of our folks know about those two, I didn't need to elaborate. His face fell as he stared back at me with apologetic eyes.
“Oh good Lord,” he muttered.
“Thanks anyway,” I said, about to leave but not before accepting Dad's offer of a hug.
Just the possibility was enough to leave me teetering on the edge. I tried valiantly to retain control as I approached them when we got home, and practically ordered them to get themselves tested. I didn't need to tell them twice either, but the results that came back were the last straw.
Gina went postal. It's a miracle I didn't go the same way, but as always it was down to me to diffuse the situation and send her to her punch bag. Both boys were in distress, but after the initial shock Chris slumped into the sofa like a frightened little boy.
“I'm scared,” he whimpered, “I hope I haven't damaged the baby...”
Despite myself I melted. Chris broke down into tears and was inconsolable, and the thoughts I picked up from them both were plain as day. The big question for them wasn't “Do we keep them?”, but “How are we going to cope?” Forcing them to terminate would be a big mistake, and I made sure that was the first thing I told Gina when I next saw her.
But Gina has changed now. She's not as receptive to them as she was, and it's not to do with them both being pregnant as much as how the babies got there. The fact they didn't know it was even possible doesn't matter, just that they'd gone beyond the law in the first place, thus making it likely at all. Whatever feelings she harbours inside – she won't even tell me anymore for fear of hurting my own – she channels by throwing extra effort into bringing up our daughters, leaving me with two expecting teenagers, one of whom has already shown signs of ante-natal depression and risks going there again. It's not fair on his brother to support him when he needs it himself, but I'm running out of strength to lend them. I can't even show my feelings anymore; with so many vulnerable people in the house now I daren't let them go, yet I long so much for enough time to myself to revitalise somehow. Instead I solider on, showing strength on the outside but slowly crumbling inside. I know better than to try what Chris did, but I really don't know how much longer I can carry on.
jjsmith:
Loooooove it!!
cari4003:
Really original. Waiting for update.
Sam the T-man:
Oh, thanks! Nice to know it's appealing to people beyond the contest thread :D Just bear in mind though; it's not a story per se, just round ideas that would be going in the associated contest thread if I'd got through. I'll probably keep it up as the rounds progress, but you may need/want to check the contest itself for reference.
Gino's story is WIP right now, but shouldn't be too long :)
Navigation
[0] Message Index
[#] Next page