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Carla's Birthday Surprise by Raeann

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Every viewing is the same. She knows each, inevitable demise. She expects that they will each succumb to the dumb luck of the mortals, even though they have been terrorizing the seaside town for decades. How is this possible? Her fists unclench. Maybe this time the outcome will change. She exhales.

"Garlic don't work boys."

No. Of course not, Paul. Now just PLEASE step away from the tub. Come on, Paul.

"Try holy water death breath!"

Oh no. Her eyes squeeze shut, her heart bangs against her ribs. She hears his agonizing screams. peeks once to witness his raw bubbling flesh. Now how the hell can you come back from that? she wonders. She has to leave. Decides the hallway will be safe while Paul disintegrates and howls as the Frogs embrace in comic fear.

Okay, they got Paul again. But maybe this time Dwayne (she smiles, feeling the heat explode in her chest) will survive. She rushes back to her T.V. set. here we go.

Come on Dwayne. This is Corey Haim. You can beat him. You can take on Lucas, come on. Just don't get up and rush him. Don't get up until he's on you, dammit. her intensity is palpable. Unblinking. No breathing. Come ON! The arrow soars. He's down.

She is suddenly lightheaded. her palms are open, her jaw, slack. She sits with cool calm as her screen grows before her. She is no longer in her dorm room, but in Grandpa's house. Jason/Michael is behind her, Corey/Sam is beside her. She looks over at him, watches where he is going. Dwayne is up.

"Ha ha. You missed, sucker."

"Only once." Sam is getting ready to shoot again.

"NO!" she screams.

Sam looks at her, startled. "Huh?" He drops the bow and arrow. Dwayne finds his chance. He grabs the boy and...they look at one another, confused.

"I don't know what to do here." the tall, sexy one states. She stands, a little shocked, but, knowing how crazy she is, is not all that surprised.

archivist's comment: I take full pride in the fact that I am crazy.

"Dwayne."

No answer.

"Dwayne!"

He looks at the stranger. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah. That is your name, isn't it?"

"Is it?" He pauses, Sam's delicate neck in his grasp. "You know, I have no idea. No one's ever called me by name before." Then, "That name really sucks."

"I know, I know," she commiserates. "I mean, what were they thinking? How about if I call you..."

archivist's note: I happen to like the name Dwayne. . .but that's another story.

"Let go of my brother!" Michael roars. he is ready for a fight.

"Huh? Oh, here," Dwayne says, carelessly flinging Sam into his brother. They fall over. He returns his attention to the girl before him. "What's your name?"

"Carla."

"Carla, you're the only person to speak to me in this town." He smiles, a mixture of innocence and seductive corruption. She holds her hand out to him and he takes it gratefully. She slowly pulls him through her T.V screen as the confused Emersons look on.

"Can I come?" Sam asks. Oh, he's so cute.

"Uh, no, Sammy. You stay here," Carla gently informs him.

They are in her room, now, as the screen shrinks back down and Sam presses his face to it. "Hello?" he calls out. Carla shuts off the T.V. with her foot, never taking her eyes away from the unearthly specimen of manly goodness that has found his way into her world, and into her arms.

"God," she whispers, getting choked up. "You are so beautiful." She wipes away a tear. "Dwayne, you belong to me now. No one else may touch you. Your hands, your skin, may only smell of me, your mouth is my dinner, your hair is my blanket, and your body is my bed."

"Of course Carla. You saved me."

"Mmm, that's fine. Oh you fine."

"Excuse me, but what about me."

Carla whirls around to find another man in her room. Tall, with shoulder-length gold hair, and white-blue eyes. The right side of his face is terribly scarred.

"This can't be possible," Carla murmurs.

The man is amused. "Why not? Your imagination is so strong, you brought me to life." His voice is thick and low. He laughs, and she senses the sound in her spine and up through her brain. Asher grasps her wrists as Dwayne holds her waist from behind. He brings her hands to the scars. She slides a finger along the rough skin as Dwayne's hand weaves through her long blonde curls.

"Amazing," she whispers.

"You haven't seen anything yet."

Dwayne's mouth encloses around her neck as her lips and tongue join Asher's....

The End

archivist's note: sigh. . .
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