Xander Harris was in a bit a quandary. Having found himself stuck in ancient Greece and with a new best friend, unwanted though he might be, Xander quickly found himself unwelcome in his new country. Not that that was a bad thing; staying in the country filled with thousands of women pissed off him would be detrimental to his health. Strife did have one good thing going for him: he never actually abandoned Xander to the misfortune to which he had led him.
Still, being chased out of the women’s baths of Greece due to an unfortunate switching of signs would be a memory to both be cringed at and cherished for the rest of his life.
When they finally reach the border of Greece, there was a small army of angry women on their tails, or rather, on Xander’s tail, as Strife could not be seen unless he so chose.
“Well kid, it looks like this is the end of the line,” Strife said with a smirk. “I’m not too well liked outside of Greece, so I’ll be heading back. But if you ever pass this way again, feel free to look me up. Oh, and just to let you know, the field that kept you in this world only extends to the border of Greece, if you can make it that far. ”
Xander had little time to reply, as he was busy running for his life. Up ahead, he could see a small lake, just beyond a small wall that divided Greece from its current neighbor. Behind him, the screaming grew louder. With a last burst of energy, he vaulted over the wall and dove into the lake. Unfortunately for him, the lake was rather rank from old floating fish. Fortunately though, the water began to swirl around him, and he disappeared.
It had to be a curse, Xander mused to himself. Strife had really done a number on him this time. He emerged from his whirlpool briefly only to find himself in the middle of a synchronized swimming musical number. The last thing he saw before being sucked back down into the whirlpool, was a man in a tuxedo stepping on his head. What a man in a tuxedo was doing walking across a swimming pool was beyond him. While strange and all, the next world was far worse. No matter how good a movie it made, living in a zombie apocalypse was never very fun. Having a sword here, especially one that could suck the life out of anything, was a definite advantage. Still, an entire world filled with zombies was not something even he could save. The minute he was able to, he threw himself into the water to escape.
If Xander had to sum up this new world in one word, it would be confusing. His most recent whirlpool had spit him out of a fish tank in a Seattle fish market. Now, Xander didn’t know a lot about Seattle to begin with, but he had a feeling that the Seattle of his world was not populated by invisible little monsters. The first thing he saw upon arriving in this new world was a small ugly monster that apparently no one else could see, riding a fish being hurled through the air across the marketplace. Said fish missed its intended target and slammed into the head of an oblivious passerby. In the chaos that ensued, Xander was the only person to notice an angry looking blonde teenager striding away, yellow post-it note in hand.
Since that time, he had been on the lookout for the little monsters. They didn’t seem too directly attack anyone; they simply seemed to be causing accidents. Often when he spotted them, someone would die. And when they did, there was always a person nearby with the yellow post-it note. After a while, he noticed a trend. The people with the yellow post-it notes would show up before the accident. They always seem to be trying to find someone, usually asking people for their last names. When they found the person they were looking for, they would shake their hands, touch their back, or brush a hand across their sleeve. Then that person would inevitably die a tragic death. Were they in league with the monsters? If so, why post-it notes?
Xander resolved to spend time each day looking for signs of the demons’ interference. He tried to keep out of sight whenever he saw the yellow post-it note harbingers of doom. When he could, he attempted to prevent the deaths, but usually they happened too fast and in such a strange manner that he was generally unsuccessful. The key to stopping this wave of death seemed to lie with the post-it notes. If he could find the origin, then perhaps he could find a way to kill the demons. As it was, direct attack simply seemed to go right through them.
Today was the day. He had just witnessed another brutal murder. A man at a party choked to death on a cube of cheese, that somehow still had the toothpick attached. Even the Heimlich maneuver had been useless. He hadn’t needed to interfere, as others had tended to the man. With the place crawling with little monsters, it had been impossible to spot the actual sabotage until too late. Instead, Xander hung back in the crowd, keeping an eye on the unkempt man holding the post-it note. The man seemed slightly dazed as if drunk or drugged, and didn’t seem to notice he was being followed. The rather slow speed chase came to an end at a gaudy little establishment called ‘Der Waffle Haus.’
Thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews. I really appreciate the time you take in reading my work. I’m very sorry that I haven’t updated in so long, but work and life has been keeping me very busy recently. I’m sorry I haven’t used your wonderful suggestions, but my muse has obviously gone on vacation to some little island where she has had one too many drinks that come in coconuts with little paper umbrellas. Next up: the confrontation. Disclaimer: if you recognize it, it’s not mine. I’m not rich enough to buy Xander or Glee. And I really don’t own Dead Like Me. If I did, it would still be on TV.