Stories, fan fiction, and the like

Fiction – Guardian Angels

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Three and a half years ago, I wrote up a short story fan fiction for the webcomic College Roomies from Hell (one of many submissions for the 2,000 Strip Extravaganza, though the story wasn’t chosen). This obviously was back when I was still reading the comic, and I believe it’s the last webcomic-related fan fiction I’ve written. The story obviously takes place before April went completely insane and rammed a knife through Mike’s sternum (and was actually written before that point, and before I wrote the character off). As the story is over 4,000 words in length, I’m only going to include an excerpt of the beginning of the short story, and a link will lead to the page which contains the entire story.

I probably should add in a warning that the story contains an intense emotional (non-sexual) situation that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.


Guardian Angels
by Robert A. Howard

April stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Brown eyes stared back at her, deep shadows lurking under her eyes. Her bangs drifted over her eyes and she pushed them back, pushed her hair back, her fingers catching in snarls.

Her hair had never been quite right after the incident when the new dorms blew up. The back of it had gotten burnt. Still, she resisted cutting it short; she remembered that her mother had always loved braiding her hair. Keeping it long was a way to honor her memory. And she couldn’t remember much of her mother. She had tantalizing tidbits here and there, loving moments of being with her mother, but that was all. And she remembered the fall, when her mother had slipped from the trapeze… and her father had tried to catch her and cushion her body with his own… and failing.

But it didn’t matter now. None of it mattered. It never had. She was imperfect. Incomplete. Whatever her dad had said… whatever act that had separated her and June, turning his daughter into twins, each having gotten part of the original’s memories… and soul, had left her a shadow, a defective copy. June was right about that. She was defective. That was why she was alone.

Mike was busy taking Marsha out to dinner, to some fancy restaurant where the guys had to wear ties and a jacket, and the girls fancy dresses. Marsha had actually splurged, dragging April along to go to various shops until she found a dress she liked, something with a high back to conceal her wings, but cut down low in the front to show off her breasts. And a new bra to push them up more, make her look larger than she was.

Not that Mike cared about breast size. Hers were easily bigger than Marsha’s. But Mike never looked twice at them. He never looked twice at her. April watched a tear tumble from her eyelashes and down her cheek, hot against her flesh, and she rubbed it away, pulling up the neck of her nightie to rub her eyes.

April looked down at it; white lace sewn on top of pale pink cotton, a little bow between her breasts. She used to dream of wearing it to bed for Mike. Or for any guy really. But outside of Roger, she didn’t think any man had seen her in it. She’d brought it with her from home… and in all that time, she’d found no one. Dave had been wrong about that. She wouldn’t find someone. Why would anyone waste time with her?

She heard a door shut and listened for a moment, but heard nothing else. It was probably across the hall. Margaret had gone out shooting with some of her buddies in the gun club. Not that she really wanted to spend time with the brunette; Margaret had mostly avoided her since the guys had brought her back from wherever she’d run away to.

(Click to continue to the story)