Brandt and the Bear

Recording Two.

 

*click* Hello? This thing working? Okay I'm just going to assume that little red light there means it's on.. Okay so now I'm sitting in the conservatory. Hear that annoying-ass noise? Can you? Well that's the ceiling fan, just incase you were wondering. So a lot of shit has happened, but I won't get into it yet, you still need to know what happened next.

So where was I.. Hmm.. Oh, after the first night, and I stuffed that creepy-ass bear into the closet, right? Okay.



So the next morning, after aggressively shoving the horrible stuffed animal into my closet, and shoving a chair against the pine doors, I head downstairs for breakfast. Trish is sat slumped over the bench in the kitchen, her head pressing against the cool marble surface. Her eyes are closed, and she doesn't even twitch when I start clattering around, grabbing a bowl, spoon, a box of Golden Nuggets and the milk. I slam the fridge door extra loud after putting the milk back just to see if she's died or something but even that doesn't get a reaction.



"Mam! Trish is dead, can I use her room as a gym or something?" I shout, moving through the kitchen and into the living room. I spot Diana and my dad, Charlie on the couch. They're both reading, my dad's got his hands on the paper while my mother's nose is stuck into her book. She'd been reading those twilight books last time I looked, now it seems she's moved on from teenage vampire books and got her hands on some Dean Koontz. Way to go for the upgrade Diana.

I don't have anything against twilight, for anyone who might be listening. In-fact, I read the books, and they were fine. The films though? I left 5 minutes into it to go and vomit. Well, no I didn't, but that's how I felt. Now, The Host is really, really good. I'd recommend that to anyone. Oh right, back to my day;



My dad looks up at me and grins, he looks like he's about to say something when I hear a loud bang from upstairs.. in the general direction of where my room would be..

All I can think of is some serial killer teddy bear when my mother asks what that was,

 "Err I t..think it must have been my book falling. Yeah.. I'll g..go check it out." Killer bear. Killer bear.. Killer motherfucking bear.



I rush upstairs after my parents return to what they were doing. Of course, why would they be worried, it's not like some random toys can actually come alive or anything. Once I'm at my bedroom door I freeze in place, my hand on the doorknob.

I take a few seconds to compose myself, running a nervous hand through longer-than-average black hair. To be honest, I'm not sure why I was so scared; I'm average height, at 5'9 and I go to the gym on a regular basis. I'm pretty sure I could have taken a tiny stuffed animal.

 But I guess that's the thing with all things weird and supernatural, you never know what the hell you're up against.



With a determined scowl, I grab the doorknob tighter and twist with all the gusto I have, violently kicking the door forward and leaping into the room, alert. I wish I was Jackie Chan, but if I'm honest, I just look like an idiot.



And there it is, sitting on-top of my bed, and staring at me with it's creepy-too-human eyes. I don't know what to think, at first I decide maybe it's a prank Trish is pulling or something, but how the hell would she know where I put the damn thing in the first place. All idea's of it being a 'prank' are swiftly swept away as the thing lifts an arm and WAVES at me.



"Don't...faint again. I am not going to hurt you." a deep voice drawls, "Be calm.. Close door.." I blink once, twice, three times at the small teddy bear, my heart thundering in my chest, but I do what it says, for reasons unknown, and the door closes softly behind me.

"Good." The bear nods, and I wonder how in the hell it's talking. It has no real mouth, it's just a stitched line, not to mention it hasn't even got organs. I don't think. I contemplated cutting it open and finding out, but the fact that it was there, clearly alive intrigued me. I wanted to know how. Oh wait, he's a magic teddy bear. And suddenly the world makes sense again.



"How the hell??" I say it so quietly, as if scared my parents might hear, even though they're downstairs, reading. Fat chance anyone's gonna hear me if this thing decides to try and kill me. I'm suddenly reminded of Chucky, and my back hits the door as I try and step further away from the thing.



"I explain. You sit and listen?" It sounds like a question, but I'm already moving to sit; what the hell is wrong with me?! "Okay, good. My name is Daman. You?" Another question, and I just sit there gawping at it. "You're English, right? What Is Your Name?" The Russian accent is undeniable, and I blink, finally getting what it's asking me.



"Err.. My name? Right.. It's uhh.." For a minute I forget it, the sight of the little teddy bear completely throws me off the loop, and I have to think hard just to come up with the answer, "Brandt.." I finally murmur, my head tilting slightly.



"Brandt, okay. Where is this?"



"I-it's Glasgow." I stutter, my words are flowing automatically by now.



"Glasgow? England?" his voice sounds surprised, but I shake my head.



 "No, Scotland." I don't care who or what this guy is, he could at least get that much right. "What the hell are you?"



"What does it look like?" The thing, Daman, drawls. I shrug helplessly, and watch as he uses his little furry arms to pull himself to his little furry feet, "Okay, you help. I was cursed. I'm Russian Soldier, er.. Was..” He sighed at that, “Witch turned me into this 5 months ago.” He finally stops talking. I stare.



And I keep on staring.



“What..?” It, no he, asks.



“You actually expect me to believe a witch cursed you and turned you into a teddy bear? I believe that you're Russian, that much I can hear. But a Russian Soldier?? Come on, man..”



“You're the one talking to stuffed bear. You tell me what you should be believing.” it takes me a few seconds to understand, but when I do, I snort and roll my eyes, Touché.



“No, what I believe is my 'friends' put something in my drink, and I'm still not with it. You can't be real, that's just impossible.” I'm not sure if I was trying to convince myself, or him.



“This is very real.” I narrow my eyes at the creature, eyeing it skeptically as I fold my arms over my chest.



“Okay, assuming this is real, what exactly are you doing in my house?” Dumbest. Question. Ever. I knew I was getting really slow lately, but come on.



“...Your sister bought me as gift? Remember?” The bear scoffed, actually scoffed at me and I had a hard time not rushing over and ripping his arms and legs off.



“Okay, moving on. Anything else I should know..?” I don't know why I asked that question, but I feel that, if some witch really did curse some guy and turn him into a bear, the worlds a lot scarier than I thought.



“Err, I'm being hunted by the soviet?”



“Huh..?” Honestly, his accent is hard enough to understand, did he say 'soviet'..?



“Yes.. They think I deserted, they want to capture and question me. Desertion is heavy price in Russia.” He sounds upset, which I could understand, anyone would be upset if they were suddenly turned into a bear.



 “Well, that's fine, isn't it? I mean, no one will suspect a little stuffed animal.” No shit sherlock.



“I guess so.” He confirms, but he still sounds upset.



“So, anyway to turn you back?” the question seems to put him on alert, he stands straight, his furry paws prodding at the woollen jacket he's wearing.



“..No..” His answer is hesitant, and I notice he's looking away.



“O..kay.. So what now..?”



“I stay. You help find witch.” And that was the plan. I don't know how he expected me to find some witch who could be anywhere in the world, but I wasn't going to bother asking. I thought it must seem weird, not questioning much about the whole thing, but I figured he's a fricken stuffed animal, what's the worst that could happen. So I agree'd to trying to find the witch, and he agree'd to staying out of trouble. He kept in my room the whole day, and by bed time, he returned to the closet.



I acted normal around the family, I don't think they'd take me saying I had a real living teddy bear living upstairs in my bedroom too kindly. I didn't want to risk looking like an insane bastard so I just pretended everything was right with the world. It was easy.



At 10pm I trudged upstairs for bed. I didn't see Daman anywhere, and I didn't feel like looking for him. The windows didn't open and I doubt he'd have ran away. I got changed and ready for bed before slipping beneath the covers.



I was halfway asleep when a loud thud shook my wardrobe followed by a deep groan. The noise jolted me awake and I flicked on the light,

“Daman? That you?” I called, quiet enough so no one outside of my room would hear.

The wardrobe shook and the door pushed away from the magnet keeping it shut, what I saw inside made my heart stop and my face turn 10 shades of red.



A naked, full-grown man tumbled out of the cloeset, his brown hair short and messy. He was tall, around 6'0 from what I could see, and it looked like he went to the gym on a regular basis. Not a hair anywhere else but his head, and yes, I could tell.



 “Shit..” The russian voice muttered, and I recognised it instantly.



 “WHAT THE FUCK?!” I screamed at the naked man, who I assumed was Daman, some how.



“Forgot.. to tell you..” Was the whispered reply as the man slowly pulled himself up so he could sit, his tanned hands both covering his... package.

“Full moon, yes?”



“Full moon??” I blinked, and turned to look out of the window, just to see that, yes, it was a full moon tonight. It clicked. “Oh you're kidding me..”



 “No.. Every full moon I'm human for night.” Great. Just fucking great.



Story telling is fun, no? NO it isn't, not when it's real. I'm not making this up, and as I've said before, I'm leaving this for whoever may or may not pick it up in future, just incase I'm dead, so you all know the truth. Times up. *click*

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A/N - Thanks first reviewer. Hope you stay interested, and the rest who ain't said anything. Cheers!