The Balloon Pops
#1 of The Balloon Fraternity
The Balloon Pops
By Kodak_Disposable
Chapter 1- Strange Going-Ons
Brian Johnson sat in his office, "The World is Not Enough" by Garbage playing on the radio, writing a long report on his computer about his most recent work. He was a detective for the local police, and a pretty good one at that. In his short career, he'd only left a few cases unsolved. He was young for a detective, only in his late 20s, and lived alone in his apartment. Suddenly, he heard a knock on his door.
"Come in", he said. In stepped a police man.
"Seems to be trouble at the fraternity. A woman who lives near the fraternity just called in and said she heard strange noises coming from the commons room."
"What kind of noises?" asked Brian.
The police man responded "She said it was hard to describe, though she said it sounded something like cartoonish giggling."
"Cartoonish giggling?", responded Brian "Is she sure someone didn't just leave a TV on?"
"She said that it sounded like a lot of people were gathered in the commons room, having a party," said the police man.
"A party?" said Brian , surprised. "Frat boys do like to have their fun, but four in the afternoon on a Monday seems like a pretty peculiar time to have a party."
"I know, and the college professors said that some students haven't shown up for class" said the police man. "Anyway, the chief wants you to check it out."
"I'll get right on it" said Brian. He saved his work, turned off the radio, got his coat, and went to his car to drive to the fraternity.
When Brian drove into the fraternity parking lot, everything seemed alright. It had just stopped raining, and everything was wet, but nothing looked out of place. He was about to enter through the front door when he heard the strange sounds that the woman had reported. It sounded like loud cartoonish giggling, just like she said, but he also heard what sounded like balloons rubbing together. He walked around the fraternity to the fire escape where the sound was coming from. He peaked in and saw one of the strangest thing he'd ever seen: inside were about 12, no 13 of what looked like people in blown up balloon costumes, all hugging and squeaking together. Even stranger was how the room they were in. Instead of furniture, strange looking rubber vending machines stood against a wall.
Stranger still, the people in their costumes, which he couldn't tell but seemed to be filled with all manner of things, seemed to defy physics. In one corner sat a huge kangaroo just sitting there, rubbing herself. The rest of the people looked like fat versions of cartoon animals all squeaking together, whose limbs appeared far more dexterous than physics should have allowed. And they all seemed extremely happy, deliriously so, like some sort of ancient festival of Dionysus. "Whatever they were doing, they must have been very drunk, and there's probably some drug use too" Brian thought. Brian went back to his car to get his high-quality digital camera. He went back to where he was watching them, took some pictures (flash off, of course) and a few minutes of video, so that he could prove what he saw, since he doubted otherwise anyone would believe him. At the very least, whatever was going on in the commons room would be difficult to explain. He got in his car and drove back to the police station. They were going to need a raid to break such a strange party up, before the ruckus continued any longer and any property was damaged, or worse.
Chapter 2- The Raid's Abysmal Failure
Police officer Mike Tucket parked outside the fraternity with three other cars. Six officers got out. They'd done this quite a few times before, as the fraternity was known for having wild parties. But this was the first time that they'd gotten such a call at 5:00 in the afternoon on a Monday. Detective Johnson had shown them the pictures and videos, but it was still hard to believe. Something was very strange about this. But he and the officers still had a job to do, and whatever those frat boys were doing, it was a weekday and he was sure at least some of them had classes. It certainly was quieter than most parties he'd heard, and often he could hear their blaring music from his car. Knowing the fraternity boys though, by the end of the day they'd probably be charged with serving alcohol to underage people, vandalism, and disorderly conduct, and maybe in this case possession of contraband substances. The officers went to the front door and unlocked it using the key they had been given. They heard squeaking sounds and quiet music as they walked to the door to the commons room. When they got there, they drew their guns and took positions. At the count of three, they burst into the commons room, and Tucket shouted "This is a raid!" The videos couldn't truly describe the spectacle. Tucket gasped for a moment, then regained himself. He put his gun level and said "Alright, play time is over. This is a work day. Step out of your fat suits, or water suits, sumo suits, or whatever you call them, and put your hands up!" The strange looking creatures stopped what they were doing, but said and did nothing. Thinking that they somehow hadn't heard his shout, Officer Tucket repeated "This is a raid!" A yellow and orange striped raccoon with a goofy grin bounced closer to them. When he spoke, he sounded like one of the normal fraternity boys, but his voice was higher pitched and had a slight hint of delirium in it. He said "Aw, officers, we don't mean any harm. We're just having a little fun." Tucket responded with "Regardless, we need you to take off your suits and come down to the station for questioning." The raccoon didn't seem to hear him. Instead, he said "In fact, we're having so much fun, we'd be delighted if you would join us." The raccoon started bounding closer to the officers. Tucket said "Sir, please do not come any closer!" Again the raccoon didn't seem to hear him, as if he was in his own little world. Tucket shouted "Truncheons!", and all the officers holstered their guns and drew their truncheons.
The raccoon kept coming, and as soon he was within reach, the closest officer hit him. Oddly, when he hit, it just caused the suit to slosh and juggle. Soon, all six of the officers were hitting him as hard as they could, with the same effect. A Negro cop named Trevor shouted "The truncheons aren't working!" Just then the raccoon touched him in the arm, and a black sticky rubber was left where he was touched. "What the hell..." said Trevor. Soon the other water balloon things started to follow the raccoon's lead, and bounded over to help "convert" the officers. Tucket gave the raccoon costume a great kick, sending it back a few feet, and shouted for everyone to fall back and call for backup. A large red husky touched an officer named Peter as they were escaping, covering his ear with a sticky orange goo. As they were running out the door, the 'coon grabbed Trevor in a strong, vise-like grip. The rest of the animals joined him and surrounded him, blocking his escape.
Meanwhile, the officers will running through the hallway to get back to the front entrance. "Get back to the cars!", shouted Tucket. Officer Tucket ran back a little ways, just in time to see Trevor being carried away, kicking and screaming, saying "What are you doing?! This is assault!" Tucket had known Officer Trevor Morgan for years, and knew he couldn't let them take Trevor away and keep him as a hostage. It was strange to see party-goers get so malicious in the face of a police raid, and usually at the call of a raid party goers dispersed. But this time they had defied the police and charged at them, and the truncheons that helped prevent a situation from escalating to gunfire were ineffective against whatever the people were wearing. Tucket drew his gun, and shouted an ultimatum. No one responded, so after a moment's wait he fired at the shoulder of a dark blue wolf in a tank top. He could swear his aim was true, but all that happened was a sort of jiggling around his shoulder, like poking a water balloon with your finger. He fired again with the same effect. He shot more, in different places and different people, with the bullets just stretching the rubber for a split-second before it snapped back. . Not only were whatever these people wearing soft enough to negate the blow of truncheons, but also appeared to be bulletproof! Tucket stood for a moment, starting to feel genuinely scared. Seeing that there was nothing he could do, he ran outside and back to the police cars.
Outside, Officer Robert Filbe noticed that the orange goo on Peter's ear was spreading. As they waited for Tucket, Filbe point the spreading rubber out to to Peter, who touched his ear. Not only was whatever was on is ear spreading spreading, but now the goo on his fingers began to spread too.. Peter looked aghast at his fingers, and the goo on it that defied physics, spreading more and more without growing thinner. Either whatever it was was covering him with a microscopically thin layer of something like rubber, or it was gaining mass from something else, maybe even perhaps magic. As it crawled up his arm and over the side of his head, Pete began to scream with anxiety and terror. Robert ran over to him. "Don't touch me!" pleaded Pete. "You'll get it on you too!" Robert carefully poked the side of Pete's head with his truncheon. Nothing got on it. So, with his pinky, he carefully touched Pete's head. No goo spread to his finger. Finally, he put his entire hand on Pete's head, and all he felt was a strange smooth rubber coursing over the head, nothing sticky. "It's not sticky anymore" he said to Peter. Peter touched the side of his head with his other hand, and to his horror found the fingers of his other hands covered in orange rubber. "How the hell..." said Robert. Sticky goo seemed to flow over people those strange suits touched, and would spread all over a person's body it seemed. But for some reason, when another person touched that plastic, it didn't get on them.
It was as if all physics and common sense had taken a break that day.
Tucket came running out the building, a worried look on his face. He said "I did everything I could. I even shot the suits, but they just kind of... wobbled!" Fear and confusion was on the mind of every officer at that moment, coming face to face with some kind of strange and unknown power they knew nothing about. The goo spread over Peter's mouth, and they thought he was going to suffocate. But from beneath the orange they could hear Peter saying in a muffled voice that he could still breathe. Robert helped Peter into the back seat of a police car, finding none of the advancing rubber spread anywhere but over his body. As they drove away, the strange material flowed over Peter, ripping his clothes off and cocooning him in a layer of orange rubber.
Chapter 3- Purple Ant
The threat that Trevor was facing now was like nothing he had ever experienced. The black goo had spread to nearly all of his body, leaving just his ankles and face uncovered. His clothes had ripped off long before, and soon his entire skin was encased in the... whatever it was. He struggled inside his cocoon, able to breathe, but scared. A red husky came up to him, and said "What seems to be the trouble, officer?" Trevor just squirmed. Then a half dozen of the people came up to him and began rubbing him all over. "You'll love it" they all said, over and over. The goo retracted around his penis momentarily, and some of the creatures started stroking it. Trevor was disgusted. He tried to imagine himself someplace else, anywhere else. He imagined he was at home, with his wife and kids, sitting down to dinner. He even began to have doubts about joining the police force. He grew more and more aroused, but it just felt wrong, and he would have even cried, had it not been for the plastic surrounding his eyes. Right as it felt like he would climax, the goo sealed around his penis. The creatures lifted him, and took him to the other side of the room where modified vending machine-type appliances were magically installed. A white tiger with stripes said "I think we should fill him up with coffee, like Latte". A gray fox said "I think we should fill him up with milkshake". A golden brown otter said "I think we should use grape juice". A yellow and orange striped raccoon said "We haven't used grape juice yet. Sounds like a plan!" They took Trevor to a vending machine, and put a hose close to his mouth. The smooth rubber seemed to stretch out and grasp the plastic, like the goo was a living creature. The raccoon pressed a button on the machine, starting a flow of grape juice. To Trevor it felt like now the suit must have two layers, but as grape juice flowed into Trevor's slippery prison and the suit separated from his body, he didn't feel wet. Within minutes, he was completely full and the raccoon took the hose out. He had become all black, with a large bottom, two thin antennae coming out of his head, sideways mandibles, mittened hands, and two juice-filled arms sprouting out of his sides. "An ant! That's new," said a grossly overweight purple kangaroo in the corner. Trevor found that he could move his arms and legs very easily, but his second pair of arms was just a shadow of his first pair, and did exactly as his first pair did, like string from his real arms was attached to. He clenched his hand, but the bottom hand did nothing, and it seemed they followed in arm and wrist movement only. He still had an erection, despite the minutes the balloon animals had refrained from touching him. He felt something in his mind, gnawing at it, taking over all his judgment and even free will. He shook his head, beat his plastic skull, which made the juice slosh around and add further to the rhythm of whatever was taking over his mind. Fighting it seemed to keep it at bay for a short time, and Trevor tried to go for the door or window, but the other creatures blocked his way. He sank to his knees, the last of his will draining from him. Finally, he stood, and looked at all the other creatures and smiled. Underneath that rubber was Trevor, now only in physical form. In spirit, he was now only a puppet.
We'll call you "Vitis", said the yellow raccoon, and Vitis nodded.
Chapter 4- Later that Night
The incident had been like nothing the city had ever seen. What started out as a neighbor's complaint had turned into a surreal incident of spreading goo and what appeared to be super-strong suits that were impervious to truncheons and even bullets, and despite appearing to be awkward and clumsy, whatever those strange suits were, they seemed to give the wearer super-strength and were far more dexterity than would seem natural, if he police reports Brian had heard and read were correct.
It was 7:00 at night, and just starting to get dim. The landlord of the dormitory had been contacted, and she had pulled the fire alarm, and gotten what people remained to safety, though he had heard that those that were evacuated was substantially less than those who were expected to be at the dorm. This was a case that would be hard to solve, but if Brian had learned anything, it was that his mind did the best work when it was rested. Besides, at present it wasn't so much a case as it was a terrorist threat. The evacuated dorm students were getting settled down in a hotel that the city had provided for them, and were due in for questioning the next day. So, he finished typing, shut down his computer, and headed out the door. Before going home, he went to the hospital where Peter was being held. He visited the containment room, an enclosed room no was allowed in or out of without protective gear on, that Brian could view by video screens. Taking with a doctor, he learned that they hadn't found any unusual pathogens on Peter. When they tried to obtain a sample of the orange goo covering Peter's skin, he has shouted in pain as if he could feel it, even though the encasing shiny plastic-like stuff seemed separate from his skin. Peter lay on a bed, barely able to move, looking miserable and bored. They had asked if he was hungry, thirsty, or needed to go to the bathroom, but he said he was not, and indeed whatever was on him seemed to take care of his biological functions for the time being. Brian didn't personally know the policeman, but his heart went out to him, seeing the torture he was enduring. He took one last look, then went home.
Chapter 5- Clues
When Brian arrived at the station the next day, all reports said that little had changed regarding the situation at the dorm. Throughout much of the morning, he listened to the dorm's inhabitants give him knowing stares when he started reading off the list of those who were missing, then give profound surprise when other, more introverted people were named on the list. By mid-afternoon, Brian had traced the list back by what time someone saw someone else, and from what he saw, and the first person who hadn't been seen that day was a kid named William "Billy" Krueger. One of his friends said that he left that morning for a painting job, and never returned. He said that Billy had said the poster was on an out-of-the way bulletin board in a secluded part of the campus, and obtaining the add now would be out of the question considering the current situation. The friend couldn't gave the address of this house, but told the general location and that the person who lived there was named Mrs. Fixen. After Brian was done with interviews, he looked up the address of Mrs. Fixen and went to that address to investigate.
Chapter 6- Questioning
Detective Johnson road up the driveway of an old, large Victorian era mansion in one of the more ritzy neighborhoods. He got out of his car, strode up to the brown oak door, feeling an odd foreboding feeling that there was danger in this house. He'd had these feelings before, and they were always right, he had the intuition to thank for saving many cases and lives, including his. It was odd to have a feeling in what looked like to be such a safe area. He was just here to talk to an old lady, and otherwise everything seemed alright, if not a bit out of place. There was a large brass knocker, but next to the door was a modern intercom, which he pressed. The sound of a women probably in her mid-80s came on.
"Who is it?" said the voice.
"The is Detective Brian Johnson, from the police station" he said.
"Is there anything wrong?" came the voice on the other side, seeming a little more annoyed than he would expect an old lady to be when a detective strode up to her door.
He replied "Probably not, ma'am, but I'd like to ask you a few questions. May I come in?"
The old lady said "Uh, you can't. I'm sick. And the furniture was moved a few days ago, and my house is a mess. Come back later."
"I won't take much of your time, ma'am, and I don't mind if you're house is a bit messy," said Brian.
With a sigh, the woman said "All right. But do be quick. I have an appointment later. You can meet me in the living room, it's down the hall to the right." At that, the door buzzed. Brian checked the gun in his holster, just in case, though he still couldn't put his finger on why he was somewhat ill at ease.
He opened the door to the mansion, and was greeted by rich velvet material that draped the walls and ceiling. On his way to the living room, he saw what looked like a life-sized wolf stuffed animal, strangely bulging with muscles. He walked through the door to the living room, and found it newly painted with bright orange paint, and the furniture moved about a meter from the wall.
The old lady joined him from another room. She was gray-skinned, with white hair in a bun, a white dress, and spectacles, and somewhat reminded him of the old lady from the Tom and Jerry cartoons.
"Do sit down" said the old lady, walking towards him.
"I prefer to stand," said Brian. "Besides, this won't take long."
"Suit yourself," said the old lady. She sat on a couch near Brian, while Brian leaned on a couch close to him.
"Mrs. Fixen, I presume?" said Brian. "Yes" she said, as Brian took out a small notepad and pen.
"Do you know of a boy by the name of William Krueger, Mrs. Fixen?" started Brian.
"Why, I'm not sure. Should I?" said Mrs. Fixen.
"One of those fraternity boys. I've heard that he came to this house yesterday morning to do a paint job for you. Perhaps you know him as 'Billy'?".
"Billy? Oh yes, Billy. Yes. Such a fine young man. Came here yesterday to do a paint job. Painted the very walls of this room here," smiled Mrs. Fixen. "Such a fine young man," she repeated.
Brian sniffed the air. "That must have been some fast-drying paint," he commented, then went back to his notepad.
"Yes," nervously chuckled Mrs. Fixen. "Quite."
"Did you pay him for the job?" said Brian.
Mrs. Fixen looked to her left for a moment. "Why yes, I believe I did. $500."
"A lot of money for a simple paint job," said Brian, now a bit more interested.
"Well, he did a very good job," remarked Mrs. Fixen. "A fine young boy. Um, if you don't mind me asking, what is this all about?"
Brian Johnson looked at her. "William went missing. The last time he was seen, it was at your house. We're trying to find him," said Brian, purposefully neglecting telling her about the incident at the school.
"That's terrible," said Mrs. Fixen. "What a shame. He seemed like such a nice, well-behaved boy."
"Well-behaved?" said Brian. "I thought that he just came over here for a paint jobs."
"Yes, but you know how kids are these days. Disrespecting their elders, and not obeying their parents, listening to their rap music..." said Mrs. Fixen.
Brian said "I understand. Living so close to a fraternity has been a complaint for some landowners in this city. Over here's too far away for noise complaints, but we've gotten many complaints of houses and cars being toilet papered and egged in this neighborhood, especially during the spring and autumn months. Tell me, if I may be so bold, how is it that you came into wealth? I looked your name up before I came here, and you've never had any traffic violations, have three cars, including a Ferrari, and I assume you're retired"
"The cars are just part of a little collection I have. I collect lots of stuff. And as for the wealth, I inherited this house and money from a relative," said Mrs. Fixen.
"Do you have any relatives, any next of kin?" said Brian.
"No, none. I'm the last of the Fixens," said Mrs. Fixen, sadly.
"Who were the last of your relatives?" questioned Brian.
Mrs. Fixen thought for a moment, then said with a smile."Samuel Fixen and David Sophia. Both died just three years ago."
"Would I find them in the records?" said Brian.
Mrs. Fixen shifted nervously. It was becoming more and more plain to see that she was loosing control over the situation, and had something to hide. She'd just picked this house a few months prior, and had only been in this world about that time. Humans were forgiving and varied enough to accept her answers as the truth, but she guessed there was just so much they could take. And more, she was running out of answers. Mrs. Fixen sat on the couch and thought "One thing's for sure, I'm not going to prison. If he goes back to the police station, he could come back with more police. That'd be hard to hush up. I could put a curse on him. Or better yet, I could just finish him here right now, and cover that up easily."
Brian closed his notebook and put away his pen, and repeated the question, somewhat more sternly, "Would I find Samuel Fixen and David Sophia in the records?"
"No," said Mrs. Fixen flatly.
"Why not?" said Brian Johnson, as he put away his notepad, stood up straight, and crossed his arms.
"Because," said Mrs. Fixen, putting her hands to her eyes as if she was going to cry. "Because..." said she, rising, and seeming to break into tears. Then she looked up sharply, angrily.
"Because you'll be dead!"
Chapter 7- The Death of a Fox
Mrs. Fixen raised her arms above her head, and they began to glow like the light of a dozen 100 watt light bulbs. Brian's hand went to his holster. Mrs. Fixen leveled her right hand, and a beam of red fire no wider than a tennis ball shot towards the detective. Brian dived behind the couch just as she did, causing the beam to miss him by just a few centimeters, burn a hole in his overcoat, and burn a hole through the wall all the way to the outside. The scene seemed to progress in slow motion. As he dived, Brian took out his pistol, and fired a shot which missed, hit the wall, and ricocheted into a table at the other end of the living room. Mrs. Fixen brought her left hand down, aiming just above the couch, so it would hit him in the chest as he fell. Brian quickly took aim in the short timespan, the woman just feet from where he was standing, and fired his pistol. His aim was true, and hit the woman high in the forehead. Her head jerked back, and she began to crumple. Brian hit the floor hard on his shoulder, gun still in hand. Short after, he heard a thud, and the light died down. He carefully stood from his cover, wary that it was some kind of trick. Standing up, he saw her hands go back to a normal color. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened, and her tongue lolled out, the sneer of her last moments of life still evident in her face. Brian Johnson stood over her and holstered his pistol. After a few seconds, the body drained of what little color it had left, and the skin instantly turned to white dust. Now, lying on the floor was no longer an old woman in her mid 80s, but a young fox-woman with black-furred hands and feet, and a long fluffy tail resting behind her.
Brian bent down and felt her neck, finding that she was indeed dead. He examined her, checked the hole in his coat and the wall, and looked out the living room window for a moment to think of what to do. He then took out his cell-phone, knowing he had to tell the station something, but didn't know what he'd say. But as he was holding his cell-phone, it began to buzz. He pressed a button, and the voice of officer Filbe was on the other end.
"Detective Johnson, are you busy?" said Robert Filbe.
Brian eyed the dead body, then said "Not at the moment. Any news?"
"Yes! I'm here at the hospital, and Peter just ripped out of his plastic encasing, like they were frail as old balloons. The doctors say that after just a few more days of observation, he'll be able to go home. Peter says he feels fine, though he has requested clothes. Any news from your end?"
"I can hardly believe it myself" said Brian. "I was talking to this old lady, when suddenly she stood up, and it was like fire shot from her hands. I had to kill her, and after I did she literally turned into a 5-foot tall, bipedal fox."
"Are you serious?" asked Peter
"Dead serious," responded Brian Johnson.
Chapter 8- Reverse Transformation
The balloon animals danced to the beat of a piece of furniture that Balloon Coon had magically changed into a stereo, while some of the other animals went off looking for more people to convert. Suddenly, the skin of the balloon creatures began to wiggle and squirm, and in the minds of the balloon animals it was almost like the suits were themselves alive, and giving their last final screams before dying. In an instant the bloated plastic body of Violet, the huge kangaroo in the corner, burst sending water along the ground, leaving Damon in a wet, naked pile on the floor. The rubber covering the vending machines and furniture wiggled then fell off into shreds. All throughout the room, the balloon animals fell to their knees, and as their normal consciousness emerged from the darkness of the mind-control, confusion turned to mania as the people squirmed in their now extremely bulky and cumbersome suits, looking for ways to free themselves, their air running out as air no longer magically filtered into their lungs. Some of the more bloated creatures bursts just by hitting each other. Others found the knife that Mat and Phil had dropped, and they popped each other's rubbery prisons with them. Vitis ripped out of his plastic like a molting ant, Trevor Morgan in its place. However, one person who hadn't moved was William, "Billy", Krueger. Even after he was released from the Vixen's mind control, he was truly sad it had all ended. He wondered what he had to live for. Sure there was the inheritance that made his life rather comfortable, but besides that he actually hated his life. He decided to himself that he'd be content to die right then, and quietly laid down, allowing himself to suffocate. Some of the frat boys eventually noticed him, and cut him out of his suit, but by then it was too late. So, the "thin sallow skinned youth", lying on the floor paler than ever, and feel into a deep sleep from which he'd never return.
Epilogue
Brian Johnson sat at his disk watching the television. The incident of the past few days was all over the news, with interviews of the students, funeral plans for the death of a student in what appeared to be a suicide, "experts" trying to make sense of the thing, scientists reporting their findings on the autopsy of the vixen, and religious officials calling it an infestation from hell. It was starting to get late in the evening, so Brian turned the TV off and got his coat. As he was leaving, he was surprised to see the light of another office was on, the office of sheriff Jessica Fairly. The door was open, and he knocked quietly on it.
"I see I'm not the only one burning the midnight oil," greeted Brian in a friendly tone.
Jessica laughed. "Well, I usually don't, but I had some paperwork to finish up. What about you? The office is calling you 'the officer who solved the weirdest case ever.'"
"All in a day's work," joked Brian. "We still on for breakfast tomorrow?"
"Yep. Bright and early at Lighthouse Cafe."
"See you there. Goodnight," said Brian.
"Goodnight," said Jessica.
And Brian Johnson walked to his car, hoping just a little that his friendship with Jessica would grow to be something more.
Author's note: Submitted with the approval of the authors of "The Balloon Fraternity", a story I read and rather liked. However, I wasn't satisfied with the ending of that story, so I wrote this sequel to help tie things up. I think the best thing that could happen to the people in "The Balloon Fraternity" is for things to go back to normal.