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    Demented
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Though not present in every chapter, this story will contain graphic violence, sex, and liberal use of profanity.

Spare Me Your Alpha Nonsense - 5. Chapter 5

Fucking cops gave me a ticket! I bring in a guy who tried to rob a store and carjack someone but all of a sudden my tail light and turn signal is the real problem here! Fucking ungrateful assholes! Of course I was getting all this while the Old Gal wouldn’t fucking turn on in their parking lot. The way they kept hovering around the vehicle looking for more reasons to slap tickets on the damn thing eventually caused me to reach under my car, lift up the front end of the rust bucket by the undercarriage by one hand, and proceed to drag the piece of crap while yelling at them over my shoulder.

“I’m going! I’m going! Fucking Christ!”

So there I am, walking down the slushy snow covered road, dragging The Old Gal behind me like she’s a goddamn teddy bear and I’m fucking five or something. I make it down a few miles away from the police station when I spot her. I didn’t recognize her at first, I was too busy fuming and trudging along as I kept tugging the old gal along behind me grumpily.

However I can recognize Aunt Agatha’s voice anywhere.

“That was my spot! I saw it first, you untoward, petulant, sniveling little Cretin!”

“Chill the fuck out lady! There’s a whole gas station out here!”

I stop mid stride and look into a Gas Station lot and what do I see but Aunt Agatha in the flesh, ranting at some teenage couple who had supposedly taken her preferred spot to fill her tank up. Agatha T. Borisov, one of the more independent and semi retired members of my family. She dresses a bit like Marry Poppins, However her body type is something more akin to a male pro wrestler with boobs.

She’s seven feet tall and sporting a chest size somewhere further down the alphabet than normal. She’s also just fat enough to not have defined cuts in her muscles, but not so fat as to hide the fact that she has them. Even through her frilly blouse and petticoat, Black overcoat, Scarf, flowery hat, stockings and high heels, it is plainly obvious that she’d be jacked to hell and back if she dropped a few pounds.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to drag the old gal further down the road. I do not want to deal with the family right now.

“Is that my Little Hunty Wunty over there!?” Came the suddenly gleeful sounding voice of my Aunt who completely forgets her argument and bounds over to me. Note I didn’t say ran over to me. She did not do that. She bounded over to me. As in jumped like one would do in the olympics to clear over one of those polls. The asphalt and ice actually cracks a bit as she lands on her heels and proceeds to scoop me up and spin me around, dragging the old gal along with her as the metal screeches about in my grasp. We make patterns in the sloshed up snow with the poor things tires as we go in circles like that a few times.

“Hi Auntie Agatha.” I sigh and let the old gal go. Due to the momentum of being swung about in circles by Agatha, the Old Gal flops over onto her side and almost flips onto her back before deciding against it. Her windows audibly crack and I’m pretty sure I heard her side view mirror snap off somewhere in there. Being spun around by the undercarriage while I was holding onto it probably didn’t help matters any.

“What is that hunk of scrap metal you are lugging about Hunty Wunty?” She looks at my pitiful FORD like she was smelling something terrible, “Surely that must have been a vehicle at some point, though I do not dare call it such now.”

“It’s my Car Auntie, though I’m pretty sure it’s seen its last days.”

“Oh this won’t do at all,” With her face scrunched up like she was looking at something nasty on the side of the road, she proceeds to daintily punt my vehicle away with her high heeled foot. I watch with a long drawn out sigh in her arms as it topples and tumbles away into a ditch somewhere in the distance.

Well perhaps there’s something I could salvage in there...

Oh. Nope. It blew up. Oh yeah, Old Gal’s super dead now. I just stare at the smoldering vehicle in the ditch and my only real thought is ‘Sure hope I didn’t have anything important in there. I have my wallet right?

Aunty Agatha is one of the older and more eccentric members of the family. I’ve never actually worked up the nerve to ask how old she is, but I’m pretty sure she’s at least from the Victorian age. You wouldn’t know that by looking at her though. We Borisov have this strange type of longevity where it takes progressively longer to age one year. I think I only just managed to age a full year in the entirety of my twenties so far, and it only gets longer from there. The second a Borisov hits puberty, the slowdown begins. It’s very slight at first, but even now I'm feeling it. You know how much of a bitch it is to have a teenager body for longer than you are supposed to? It fuckin sucks man.

“How is my adorable little Nephew this fine winter day!” She asks while pinching my cheek as bystanders and rubberneckers try to figure out what happened with the smoldering pile of upturned scrap metal and tires. The Old Gal has a secondary explosion that’s even worse than the last for good measure. Jesus, wonder what caused that?

“Having a real bad day Auntie not going to lie.” I said, rubbing my hand over my face. You might be wondering why I’m not fighting Agatha holding me like I’m a toddler. Well I would like to direct your attention to the smoldering remains of my vehicle some distance away and ask yourself if you’d be up for protesting on what such a lady wants to do with you? Besides, out of the Borisovs she’s one I have less issues with than most.

“Oooh poor thing!” She pinched my cheek again with her gloved hand, making me give her a deadpanned look.

“You do know I’m twenty eight now right Auntie?”

She lets out a scoffing laugh and waves me off with a gloved hand. “Oh Hunty Wunty, get to your centennial birthday and we’ll talk about calling you an adult!” she laughs wealthily at her own joke. Yes I said laughing wealthily. You know damn well what I mean by that too. That haughty laughing behind your hand kinda chortles. The laugh you do when you actually have money in several bank accounts.

That mindset she has is actually why my family doesn’t consider me a ‘traitor.’ and instead sees me as a black sheep or some wayward little boy that needs to be brought back into the fold. Quite literally their perception on how aging even works is so skewed they don’t even see you as an adult borisov till you’re like a hundred years old. Twenty eight ain’t shit to my family.

If they saw me as an actual traitor I’d probably be dead by now.

“We should get something! Lunch maybe! Oh come on, let your Aunty treat you! If you want I can get you an actual car and not, well, whatever that was.”

“Only if you promise not to tell the rest of the family I’m here. I’m getting real tired of moving every time they find me.” I grumbled at her. She lets out a sigh and puts a hand on her hip while holding me against her. I really do feel like some fucking kid right now Jesus Christ.

“You know you don’t HAVE to move right? You could just stop with this whole rebellious phase you got going on and come back home any time you want. Nobody back there is mad at you or anything! Well maybe some of your brothers and sisters are, but they’re just little tykes like you are! Siblings are supposed to rough house a little bit.”

My older brother shot my last car with a bazooka last time I saw him. I was inside of it, eating some fast food taco at the time I think. Didn’t even get to finish the damn taco cause like half the ingredients spilled out of the goddamn shell after like one fucking bite. I’m trying to salvage the guts of my goddamn taco when I looked up and saw him pointing the damn Bazooka at my windshield.

I did manage to flip him off while sucking some sour cream off my other hand before he pulled the trigger though, so that was fun.

We have something of an irreverence for non magical weapons in case you haven’t picked up on that yet. If they get serious about fighting a fellow Borisov, the ancient magical weapons get yanked out from the armory. Once that shit happens you know it’s gotten real.

“Humor me Auntie, I’m really not in the mood to deal with the rest of the family right now.”

“Didn’t you call in one of your uncles and his kids to help you fight some demon recently? I heard she shot lasers out of her eyes! I think I would have showed up to fight a scrap like that!” She says this even as she’s walking with me towards her very nice and quite heavily armored Suv. It had flowers on the windshield and the armored Suv itself was painted some Hallmark ass pink pastel color. Pretty sure you could take a machine gun to those tires and hurt yourself more than the car.

“Yeah the poorly spray tanned blondie chick. That was a wild scrap let me tell you. Never seen so many borisov choppers in the air before.”

I will not even describe to you what the gas ended up costing for this fucking tank, lets just say making something that could probably protect the President of the United States your normal travel vehicle is not recommended if you have a tight budget.

“So what have you been up to lately Hunty? I do hope you’re not trying to date one of those denizens again right?”

“Can we not Auntie?” I grumbled as we pulled out of the gas station and drove to wherever she wanted to eat. I sure as fuck ain’t paying so I’m not going to even attempt to steer her in a direction. I’m really not in the mood to talk about birds and the bees with my probably hundreds of years old aunt.

“I’m just concerned about you Hunty! You have to be careful with those ruffians! You might catch one of their magical diseases and the next thing you know you’re sprouting fangs or goodness knows what else.”

“I can’t exactly date normal guys Auntie, you know what trying to do that is like.”

My aunt grimaced. “It’s really sad honestly. I don’t mean to break their poor little hips like that but they just aren’t thrusting nearly hard enough for me to feel anything.”

“AUNTIE!” I said with a mixture of shock and a laugh at how morbid that confession was. “You haven’t done that recently right?”

“Oh nonono, that was back in the day when I had been married off to this scamp of a duke. Poor thing couldn’t walk the rest of his life after our honeymoon.” She put a gloved hand to her cheek to reminisce about the time she shattered some poor guy’s hips in bed before casually adding, “ Oh and perhaps a time or two after that, but honestly I try not to make a habit out of it if I can avoid it. Are you up for some Italian?”

“Sure why not! Way my day is going I’m almost curious to find out what could possibly happen over there.”

“Surely it hasn’t been all that bad.” She says in a light admonishing tone with some mirth mixed in for good measure. I could tell her the tale, but doing so would reveal I have a werewolf roommate, may or may not have a crush on some devil that wants to end the universe, oh and a Witch who will sick every coven in the area after me should I test those waters.

“Someone tried to carjack me earlier.”

“Hunty, are you expecting me to believe someone actually wanted that pitiable thing?” She shot me a sidelong glance as she looked around for an italian restaurant.

“That’s what I said actually. Turned out the dude got scammed hard by some loan shark grifters. He should be fine now though. Still not sure how to deal with my own shit however. I keep thinking about this one guy who I just know is bad for me and everyone else, but fuck me was he hot. It actually pisses me off how attractive he was, cause he’s smug about it too.”

“Oh I know the type. Is he a denizen?”

“No actually. Something else. I’d rather not get into it though.”

She shrugged, “I’m just happy to spend some time with my favorite little nephew! It hasn’t been the same since you ran off all across the country. What prompted this little excursion anyway.”

“I don’t want to talk about it Auntie.” I said, feeling my jaw tighten up having that brought up. They know what they fucking did. Playing dumb with me isn’t going to win me back that’s for fucking sure.

“Ooh don’t get sulky on me, Lets have some fun! I hear they have unlimited bread-sticks in that place over there. Do you really think they’ll hold to that? I’m quite hungry myself.”

“Pretty sure that’s just a marketing ploy Auntie, but I’m sure they’ll let you stress test them to see just how many they’ll be willing to pony up before they try and kick you out.”

A mischievous smirk grows on her face as she pulls in, “oooh I like the sound of that. Lets see how many we can scarf down before they start sending the managers over. Oh all this is going to go straight to my hips but that does sound funny.”

Yeah like I said have less problems with her than most. She’s not quite as obsessed with the whole hunting down the denizens of the night thing as the core family is. She’s graduated to more of, I guess, passive racism against denizens? If you want to call that a good thing? She’s prejudiced towards denizens but she’s not quite going out and hunting like she did back in the day anymore. She’s semi retired like I said, which means she’ll show up to big family missions but otherwise she’s just enjoying herself.

I pity the waiter who ends up with our booth.

Copyright © 2020 Demented; All Rights Reserved.
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Every family needs at least one nutty eccentric. Aunt Agatha is a hoot.

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Awesome chapter, I like that he just dragged his car behind him when he left the cop shop , and then "Aunty" she is definitely out of the left field, a hoot and a comic

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oh my god , i think i am in love,.. well "like" is more like it cause she has the wrong plumbing,, but damn she sounds fun, reminds me of Aunt Beatrice, lol

 

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LOL if i was from his family, i can just picture my brother doing the exact same thing to me... hell i think he would try it anyway,  can you tell i live no where near my siblings.. lol

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