RWC #42 ~ "Stupor"

Kitty had never been drunk in all her life.  And she wasn't drunk now - she was sure of it.  She wasn't stumbling around on unsteady legs, or singing bawdy songs at the top of her lungs off key, or picking fights with the little people.  That's what drunks did, wasn't it?  There was her proof!  She was just sitting there, quietly trying to figure out where she was, and what she was seeing. 

 If she were to believe her eyes, there was a giant troll standing before her, with horns like a billy goat lying on his bald head, ears like a fairy, fangs growing up like stalagmites from his otherwise toothless gums, jewelry made of teeth and bones adorning his neck and left wrist, a loincloth of animal skins around his very ample waist, thankfully covering his probably quite scary private parts, and leather strappy sandals tied to the hams that were his feet.  Oh, and he was leaning on a huge bone club.

Well, really!  Obviously she must have hit her head on something, because creatures such as the thing standing before her, scratching his bald pate in a puzzled sort of way, only existed in children's fantasy stories, and were conjured up to frighten the little ones into behaving.  She was not a child, and she had not been misbehaving. And even if she HAD been, a little bit, with that delicious hunk who had come to sit next to her and who had kindly offered to buy her a drink, she hadn't done anything to warrant THIS kid of nightmare!

She turned her head, and wondered what that thing was that was making her cheeks itch. Raising a hand to scratch at it, she screeched at the sight of a paw.  What the heck!  She tried again...and that pesky paw swiped at her face.  What on Earth was going on?  The itch continued to torment her, and the troll stood still, looking as puzzled as she felt.  She looked around her, trying to get her bearings. What she saw confused her even more...

When had she gone outside?  And when did it become day?  She didn't remember going to bed! Heck, she didn't even remember leaving the bar!  That delicious morsel had been chatting her up, and she had felt herself getting more and more turned on by him, but they had still been in the bar till a moment ago...hadn't they?  The sky was bright as day, and the light hurt her eyes.  She squinted...and heard the troll sigh.  At least, she thought it was the troll. No one else seemed to be around.  

This is what she got for going out to a bar on her own.  She, who had never ever been in a bar, except for that one time, with her friend, who had turned out to be a dud as a date, and a total turn-off as a man.  She had been uncomfortable then; why had she ever thought she would be better off on her own now?  She shook her head, and decided that she had better get a move on.  If day had dawned, she wasn't home, that was for sure, and though it WAS Saturday, she would rather be at home, to sort out this confusing turn of events, and get her dull life back under her control.

The seat she was on seemed pretty high off the ground when  she looked down, but she wasn't afraid.  She stood up - on all fours!  WTH???  Now she was really scared! She sat down again, and heard the caterwauling howl that escaped her throat with a distant kind of horror.  She almost sounded like a cat!  Oh God, what was WRONG with her?  Who was the delicious, but obviously dangerous hunk she had been letting chat her up and ply her with drinks?  And where was he now?

The troll moved.  Or at least, it seemed like he did.  She closed her eyes, and opened them again...but the troll had disappeared.  The delicious hunk was back, and staring at her with something akin to concern in his deep brown eyes.  And his lips were moving.

"Kitty, are you okay, hun?"

She stared up at him, and realized she was lying across his lap.  She tried to sit up hurriedly, and felt the world spinning again.  She closed her eyes, and swallowed.  

"Kitty?"  His voice was frankly alarmed now.

She could not speak, so she reached for his face and smoothed her hand over his chin.

"Don't try to sit up, love!  I'm taking you back to your hotel!"

How did he know where she was staying?  And did she want him to take her there? Trying to tamp down the panic rising inside her, and still confused about what was happening to her, she struggled against the waves of nausea, and against his restraining hold, and sat up, weaving on the plush leather seat of the car - a limo, by the looks of it.  She had not accomplished any of the goals of her evening, except meeting a sexy hunk.  She had met one, all right...but what if he was really a troll?

Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman

To read other entires, visit the site: Challenge#42