Chapter 2

Oskar woke up with a start from a bad dream.

In his dream, Eli had been smothering him with a pillow. He would kick and thrash desperately to get free, but she always came back and put the pillow back over his head, her eyes vacant, her face impassive. He struggled and struggled, unable to breathe, as she held its softness tightly over his face, sealing off his mouth and nose . . . .

Disclaimer:
The following is adapted from the novel Let the Right One In by John A. Linqvist and the film bearing the same name. The characters in this work are those of Mr. Linqvist and no copyright protection is asserted to this work.

Chapter 1

“Want to play again?”

“Okay. One more. But it’s getting kinda late.”

Eli picked up the sticks, then dumped them out to start a fresh game. She glanced at Oskar and smiled.

“Your hair is getting long. We really ought to cut it.”

A Night of "What the...?"

By N.R. Gasan

[Author's preface: I've previously written a story that made people cry. Now (hopefully) I've written a story to make people laugh; or, at least, to make them smile. This is more along the lines of what I (and most people, I think) would want for Eli and Oskar.]

The Professor and Eli carried the small lab refrigerator down the stairs and placed it in the trunk. It was 3:00AM, and they had already made three trips to his house. This would be the last. No one had noticed anything; they had made sure of that. With Eli standing guard as he made trips to and from the car, he was confident that no one, even by chance, had seen them at all. Eli had already cleaned the apartment and wiped all the surfaces to remove fingerprints, but the odds of getting them all were against them.

Just some notes on my story. Spoilers ahead.

On the cited works

All books cited exist. Esteban's musing about children who are orphans, even if their parents are alive, is a quote from Yo, El Supremo (I, the Supreme) by Augusto Roa Bastos.

Perhaps one day, in a voluminous tome, in pages moved to compassion,
I shall tell your story, dismayed by what it contains, and by the lessons
that spring forth. So far, I have been unable to do so, for whenever I
attempted it, copious tears fell on the paper and my fingers trembled,
and not from old age.
Comte de Lautréamont, Les Chants de Maldoror

It's the end of the end of the world
Even if it's only for one night...
It's the end of the end of us...
Tonight the world is without end.
Calogero Maurici, La Fin de la Fin du Monde

He dreams that he is happy; that his corporeal nature
has changed or, at least, that he has flown away on a
violet cloud, towards another sphere, inhabited by
beings of the same nature as himself.
Comte de Lautréamont, Les Chants de Maldoror

'Oskar, there's something more I need to tell you, about Esteban.'

It was 5:00AM when they pulled up in front of the apartment. Oskar got out and opened the door, while the Professor carried Eli up the stairs, against her protests. Oskar followed him up the stairs with the medical bag. Without saying a word, Dawson carried her into the bedroom and carefully placed her on the bed. “I’ll get your food. Please, stay here.” He looked down at her, hesitated, and then slowly walked toward the kitchen

Oskar sat down beside her, “What’s wrong with him? He’s acting odd.”

“I’m not sure…he seems sad. What should we do Oskar?”

Tuesday, November 24th

It was 7:30 in the morning; the sun will rise in about a half hour.

Oskar sat leaning forward on the wooden bench, picking at the cracks in the planks of wood that formed the seat. When the occasional person or rabble of folks happened his way he would look toward the ground and stare at his dirty and worn shoes until they passed, hoping they would pay him no mind. No one had a clue that he wasn't entirely what he appeared to be.The night was pleasant and many of the locals were out enjoying a summer evening in the park. He had been sitting there a while hoping vainly that some poor soul would come running up to him and say "I'm the one.