Sleepover - A short story
Hey all, big into Lumpy Touch's Where's Waldo series and was inspired by @nami-ramen to write this little story based on their art here
*** Please Enjoy :) ***
Two years. It had been now over two years since Waldo had killed the Detective's wife. And in all that time, the Detective had not seen hide nor hair of him.
But Waldo had seen them. Quite frequently, in fact.
He would check up on them from time to time, always being sure to remain just out of sight. It was risky, but that made the game much more fun. Plus, he wanted to be sure that the Detective's role in the game was still active. If he felt that the interest with the hunt was starting to wane in the Detective, he would perhaps allow himself to be caught in their peripherals, or perhaps leave something out of place, anything that would spark the obsession anew. Oh, what fun it was, this Hide and Seek dynamic, and he couldn't wait for the day when the game would change.
For now, Waldo was content creeping around in the dark outside the Detective's house. It was a lovely home, one that he had only seen the outside of... or no, that wasn't entirely right. He had been inside at one point, but not HIM him. His extensions had come that night to play with the Detective's wife while he had gotten to spend a lovely evening with the precious Detective. Waldo had wished the night could have been longer, but oh, that Detective was smart, and had made him let slip his next move... or had he intentionally tipped them off in the hopes that perhaps they could have saved dear Wenda?
Waldo mused the question even he himself couldn't rightly answer as he peered into the windows of the suburban home. In the shadows of the room beyond the glass, a form could be seen on the bed. There they were, sleeping without a care. If only they knew how close their quarry was. Waldo chuckled to himself with suppressed excitement.
He watched a while, and after a minute of observing the rise and fall of breaths, and the shift of their body, he recognized the telltale signs of distress. He of all people knew those signs well. The dear, sweet Detective must be having a nightmare.
A smile curled Waldo's lips, "Dreaming about me, Detective?"
The compulsion to enter the house was now rising, but to do so without waking his sleeping hunter would be difficult. He had stopped by enough times to know that since the night his selves had broken in, security was stronger. Of course, locks were useless at deterring someone like him, but to teleport inside wouldn't be a silent endeavor...
But ever the luck of the fool, and perhaps with a little foresight, an opportunity presented itself when, within the confines of the home, the sound of an old grandfather clock began to toll three past the hour. Synchronizing to the second chime, he vanished and reappeared on the third within the room, the sound covering up his static entrance. As the resonance of the chime slowly faded, Waldo stood still in the dark of the bedroom, observing to be sure his presence wasn't know.
Once he was sure, he approached their bedside to get a better look at them, kneeling down to get closer. It had been a long time since he had been this close to the Detective, nearly a week! They were... quite an interesting person, definitely the most fun detective Waldo had had chasing him. It would be a lie if he said he wasn't getting a bit attached to his playmate. Dare he say... sentimental?
Certainly not, seemed impossible for someone like him, but as he watched them turn again in the faint moonlight, seeing a shine of stressful tears in the corners of their eyes, something strange jostled in his chest, a forgotten emotion, perhaps. He smiled slyly.
Dear, dear Detective, you know how to keep things interesting, don't you?
Perhaps it was that feeling driving him now, or perhaps it was the sick fun of encroaching so close to them without them knowing, who's to say? Whatever the reason, Waldo found himself slipping out of his shoes, placing his hat and glasses on the side table, leaning his trusty cane against one of the posts, and finally, climbing into the vacant side of the bed.
Now, the Detective was pretty much average height, but with Waldo's tall, lanky frame, they were dwarfed in comparison. Long limbs curled around, but didn't touch, the Detective, as Waldo drew himself close, like a predator encircling their prey.
Propped up on the pillow, he watched them a moment more as they struggled against their nightmare, wondering what was the exact nature of the torment plaguing their mind. Oh, to be able to reach inside their head, squish around in the grey matter, and pull out the answer. If he knew, it would be fun to use against the Detective later, to see that look on their face. Oh well, he'll figure something out, something special, just for them.
For now, he pulled up the sheets over the Detective's trembling form, seeing if that would be enough to dissuade the nightmares. It was not. If anything, their expression seemed to darken, and the grip on the pillow seemed to tighten. Whatever, or whoever they were dreaming about was truly causing them untold anxiety.
At this, Waldo felt a sudden, uncharacteristic, pang of jealously. Whatever night terror that was aggravating the Detective, even if it was just a shadow of himself, it wasn't HIM him. HE wanted to be the cause of that strife, HE wanted to see them flounder and suffer because of HIM, not because of any one or any thing else, not even his other selves, HIM. A rush of possessiveness was like a hydraulic, making him tighten his arms around his detective like a steel trap, ensnaring their warm form with his own. Yes, HIS detective... no one else's. He thought this as he burrowed his face in their soft, soft hair.
...
Minutes ticked by. He stayed like that, holding his detective still, feeling the warm pulse of their heartbeat from their proximity, their shuddering breath, allowing his own sweater warmth to overpower their own. Eventually, the pulse slowed, the smell of fear subsided, and for all he could tell, the Detective finally passed into a calm, dreamless, sleep. How wonderful.
Now, it may seem a bit counter-intuitive, as his mission and pleasure was to make the Detective's life a living hell, but Waldo knew that constant terror was not as effective or lasting as periodic fright. There was a time and a place. No need for his little Detective to be so on edge that they lost their mind, that'd be no fun. He needed them sane... well, sane enough, for the next stage in the game.
Oh, he couldn't wait for when the game would REALLY begin. He found himself absentmindedly rubbing their back in circling patterns as his mind looked forward to the future and all it promised. Nuzzling his cheek in their hair, pulling a gentle sigh from them, his thoughts soon turning to wonder if their wife did the same, and the pang of jealously returned for just a moment.
For the rest of the night, Waldo remained. He didn't sleep. Instead he watched over the Detective, adjusting positions as the night wore on. At some point, feeling a little bored, he began to root around in the side tables, discovering to his delight that the detective had a little journal.
With the growing morning light, Waldo put on his glasses and began to skim through it, all while the Detective slumbered on against him, hugging his chest like a pillow. It was interesting to read the Detective's wild theories about him. Most were completely off the mark, of course, but it surprised him which were pretty close.
How clever my Detective is.
...
The Detective slept through the early morning, before waking up with a start just before the afternoon. Waldo was gone by then, but not before leaving a little note with some revisions for their theories. Waldo stole one last glance of them through the window, soaking in the visual of their bed head, before sauntering off down the sidewalk, twirling his cane with a giddy spring in his step.
"Until next time, my dear Detective."
~FIN~
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Hope you all liked it! I like the idea that this Waldo doesn't like the idea of sharing the Detective with his other selves, instead wanting them all to himself. Potentially this is the same Waldo turned Odlaw, but who's to say? :0) Only the clowns know.
If you like my work, and would like to support me, consider checking out my Ko-Fi. I currently have art commissions up on there, but if you think you'd like something written like this, let me know.
Also go check out @nami-ramen's art if you haven't, I love how they draw Waldo!
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