GoT Fic: Not Today
Title: Not Today
Author: kitmerlot1213
Rating: PG 13, violence, not graphic but disturbing
Word Count: 1320
Characters: Robb, Sansa, and Arya Stark, Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy and Ramsay Bolton
Disclaimer: This story is for fun and no profit. No harm was intended to small children or animals, real or fictional :)
Summary: Sansa Stark meets up with Ramsay Bolton in a cemetery. Things do not end well.
A/N: This is my 2017 contribution to spook_me-I adore the Starks and want good things for them when Game of Thrones end. ENJOY! :)
It was a fact universally known that Sansa Stark adored Halloween.
She’s been making her own costumes, and those of her sister and brothers, since she was eleven years old and learned how to use a sewing machine.
It was also a well-known fact that the Stark siblings got their intense love for the Halloween season from their parents, Ned and Catelyn.
The entire town of Winterfell knew that a drive by the Stark residence was a must once October 1st came around, because they would go all out when they decorated their home--the year the family had chosen Rickon’s zombie theme had been particularly gruesome--and the family also enjoyed the scary festivities their town offered.
Winterfell was famous for two attractions: Shadow Tower, a truly terrifying abandoned prison, and The Dreadfort, a deserted mental hospital known for its underground tunnels.
During the regular year, both places gave historical tours that were fascinating to children and adults alike, but it was the Halloween season that both locations truly shined.
The prison and hospital were turned into haunted houses where scarily costumed performers could grab visitors and force them down a different hallway or into another room or even into the dark tunnels, separating them from their tour group.
The person grabbed would always be returned by the time the tour got to the next room, and while it was always done in great fun, Catelyn admitted to almost losing it at seeing Bran pulled away from his family by a horribly scarred inmate dressed in a prison uniform.
So when one of Sansa’s favorite professors at her art school gave out an assignment that involved visiting cemeteries and taking pictures of interesting sculptures, she should have been thrilled.
Instead, all Sansa felt was an impeding sense of doom.
Now that she was actually at the cemetery, the sense of foreboding had morphed into an increasing paranoia that had her ready to call it a night. Or at least to run screaming to safety.
The statues decorating the majority of gravestones and mausoleums were gorgeous representations of gothic art and when Sansa photographed the various weeping angels and gargoyles during the day she’d appreciated their beauty.
But the assignment also required pictures taken at dusk and now that the sun was going down, some of the sculptures had turned menacing.
“Seriously Sans, this is some creepy shit.”
Sansa had roped her sister Arya into accompanying her and while she was grateful not to be alone, Arya’s constantly pointing out how disturbing everything was just added to her concerns because Sansa was pretty sure they were being followed.
When she saw the first clown statue, she’d assumed that the family of the deceased had a good sense of whimsy and they wanted to honor their buried loved one with a humorous yet loving tribute.
But she didn’t start getting really worried until she saw the third clown statue and by then her uneasiness had grown into a pit of fear in her stomach.
Sansa had taken a picture of the first clown and she was subtly trying to check the original picture when a loud scream made both her and Arya jump about ten feet in the air.
The sisters exchanged equally worried looks when Theon Greyjoy popped out from behind one of the graves.
Sansa huffed out an annoyed “Theon!” while Arya hauled off and punched him in the solar plexus.
Theon fell to the ground with an “oof” but he still managed to continue laughing. “Man, you should have seen your faces when I jumped out!”
Sansa sighed in annoyance but before she could speak, Arya impatiently asked: “Why are you here bothering us? Weren’t you going out with Robb and Jon tonight?”
Theon picked himself up and brushed the leaves off of his sweater before he spoke. “Who do you think brought me here?”
Arya shook her head at Theon but it was Sansa’s urgent whisper of “We need to go. NOW!!” that startled them out of their argument.
Without another word spoken, Theon and Arya grasped Sansa’s hands and the trio turned around on the path and ran back towards the entrance of the cemetery.
They couldn’t run very fast because by then darkness had fallen but they were using the flashlights on their cell phones and they could see that they weren’t far from the main gate.
They were within five feet of the gate when a clown suddenly stepped in the road in front of them, and blocked their exit.
The man was of an average height but he was muscularly built which was emphasized by the classic stripped Harlequin costume he was dressed in.
He even wore the jester hat, complete with the bells on the end, and his face was painted dead white which made his eyes look like black pools.
Sansa gasped out loud, simultaneously realizing that this was the same clown she observed at three different graves and that he had a ten inch bowie knife held loosely in his hand and pointed directly at her.
But it wasn’t until the clown spoke that Sansa became truly afraid. “Hello Sansa.”
She flinched at hearing her name said in that wheedling tone, a voice she’d come to dread hearing on her voicemail or whispered to her as she walked towards her classes, as though they were friends and he was trying to cajole her into something.
"Ramsay, is that you?” she hesitantly asked, half hoping she was wrong.
“Yes, my dear girl, it is I.” Ramsay replied in a falsely jovial voice, but underneath it, Sansa could hear the menacing tone. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
And in that moment, the world seemed to shrink, with only Sansa and Ramsay left standing in that graveyard.
Dimly she could hear both Arya and Theon shouting at Ramsay but she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.
Arya turned a horrified gaze towards her sister before addressing Ramsay directly. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but how about putting that knife down?”
Ramsay smiled coldly at the younger girl before he answered. “Oh, you know exactly who I am, so let’s not play any games.”
He gestured with his knife towards Theon. “Isn’t that why your brother and his friends are here?”
Sansa found herself nodding, knowing that once she told her dad about Ramsay’s unwanted attentions that had rapidly turned into stalking, Ned Stark would not only ask his son to watch over his sister, but all of Robb’s friends would be deputized as well.
She also realized that if she, Arya and Theon had any hope of getting out alive, she’s have to remain composed. “You know that the police are on their way,” she said as calmly as she could. “Just give yourself up now.”
Ramsay shook his head slowly, his dead eyed gaze never leaving Sansa’s face. “No, I don’t think so.”
And with those chilling words, Ramsay raised his arm to slice towards Sansa but instead, he found himself tacked to the ground by Arya, Theon, Robb and Jon Snow.
He tried struggling but he was quickly overpowered by the Stark pack’s superior strength and especially with Jon’s pressing down on his throat.
Sansa kicked the knife away out of Ramsay’s reach before she “accidentally” stepped on his hand.
At his cry of pain, Sansa smiled in satisfaction. “You should have given yourself up when you had the chance.”
She could hear the police sirens as they approached and she couldn’t help shivering, knowing this night could have ended in an entirely different way.
When she was asked, Sansa couldn’t quite tell you what direction her brother and Jon came from, she just knew they showed up in the nick of time.
Sansa looked at her family and knew her dad was right--as long as they stuck together, the Stark wolf pack would survive.
"Game of Thrones: The Pointy End (#1.8)" (2011)
Syrio Forel: "What do we say to the god of death?"
Arya Stark: "Not today."
Syrio Forel: "Go."
Author: kitmerlot1213
Rating: PG 13, violence, not graphic but disturbing
Word Count: 1320
Characters: Robb, Sansa, and Arya Stark, Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy and Ramsay Bolton
Disclaimer: This story is for fun and no profit. No harm was intended to small children or animals, real or fictional :)
Summary: Sansa Stark meets up with Ramsay Bolton in a cemetery. Things do not end well.
A/N: This is my 2017 contribution to spook_me-I adore the Starks and want good things for them when Game of Thrones end. ENJOY! :)
It was a fact universally known that Sansa Stark adored Halloween.
She’s been making her own costumes, and those of her sister and brothers, since she was eleven years old and learned how to use a sewing machine.
It was also a well-known fact that the Stark siblings got their intense love for the Halloween season from their parents, Ned and Catelyn.
The entire town of Winterfell knew that a drive by the Stark residence was a must once October 1st came around, because they would go all out when they decorated their home--the year the family had chosen Rickon’s zombie theme had been particularly gruesome--and the family also enjoyed the scary festivities their town offered.
Winterfell was famous for two attractions: Shadow Tower, a truly terrifying abandoned prison, and The Dreadfort, a deserted mental hospital known for its underground tunnels.
During the regular year, both places gave historical tours that were fascinating to children and adults alike, but it was the Halloween season that both locations truly shined.
The prison and hospital were turned into haunted houses where scarily costumed performers could grab visitors and force them down a different hallway or into another room or even into the dark tunnels, separating them from their tour group.
The person grabbed would always be returned by the time the tour got to the next room, and while it was always done in great fun, Catelyn admitted to almost losing it at seeing Bran pulled away from his family by a horribly scarred inmate dressed in a prison uniform.
So when one of Sansa’s favorite professors at her art school gave out an assignment that involved visiting cemeteries and taking pictures of interesting sculptures, she should have been thrilled.
Instead, all Sansa felt was an impeding sense of doom.
Now that she was actually at the cemetery, the sense of foreboding had morphed into an increasing paranoia that had her ready to call it a night. Or at least to run screaming to safety.
The statues decorating the majority of gravestones and mausoleums were gorgeous representations of gothic art and when Sansa photographed the various weeping angels and gargoyles during the day she’d appreciated their beauty.
But the assignment also required pictures taken at dusk and now that the sun was going down, some of the sculptures had turned menacing.
“Seriously Sans, this is some creepy shit.”
Sansa had roped her sister Arya into accompanying her and while she was grateful not to be alone, Arya’s constantly pointing out how disturbing everything was just added to her concerns because Sansa was pretty sure they were being followed.
When she saw the first clown statue, she’d assumed that the family of the deceased had a good sense of whimsy and they wanted to honor their buried loved one with a humorous yet loving tribute.
But she didn’t start getting really worried until she saw the third clown statue and by then her uneasiness had grown into a pit of fear in her stomach.
Sansa had taken a picture of the first clown and she was subtly trying to check the original picture when a loud scream made both her and Arya jump about ten feet in the air.
The sisters exchanged equally worried looks when Theon Greyjoy popped out from behind one of the graves.
Sansa huffed out an annoyed “Theon!” while Arya hauled off and punched him in the solar plexus.
Theon fell to the ground with an “oof” but he still managed to continue laughing. “Man, you should have seen your faces when I jumped out!”
Sansa sighed in annoyance but before she could speak, Arya impatiently asked: “Why are you here bothering us? Weren’t you going out with Robb and Jon tonight?”
Theon picked himself up and brushed the leaves off of his sweater before he spoke. “Who do you think brought me here?”
Arya shook her head at Theon but it was Sansa’s urgent whisper of “We need to go. NOW!!” that startled them out of their argument.
Without another word spoken, Theon and Arya grasped Sansa’s hands and the trio turned around on the path and ran back towards the entrance of the cemetery.
They couldn’t run very fast because by then darkness had fallen but they were using the flashlights on their cell phones and they could see that they weren’t far from the main gate.
They were within five feet of the gate when a clown suddenly stepped in the road in front of them, and blocked their exit.
The man was of an average height but he was muscularly built which was emphasized by the classic stripped Harlequin costume he was dressed in.
He even wore the jester hat, complete with the bells on the end, and his face was painted dead white which made his eyes look like black pools.
Sansa gasped out loud, simultaneously realizing that this was the same clown she observed at three different graves and that he had a ten inch bowie knife held loosely in his hand and pointed directly at her.
But it wasn’t until the clown spoke that Sansa became truly afraid. “Hello Sansa.”
She flinched at hearing her name said in that wheedling tone, a voice she’d come to dread hearing on her voicemail or whispered to her as she walked towards her classes, as though they were friends and he was trying to cajole her into something.
"Ramsay, is that you?” she hesitantly asked, half hoping she was wrong.
“Yes, my dear girl, it is I.” Ramsay replied in a falsely jovial voice, but underneath it, Sansa could hear the menacing tone. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
And in that moment, the world seemed to shrink, with only Sansa and Ramsay left standing in that graveyard.
Dimly she could hear both Arya and Theon shouting at Ramsay but she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.
Arya turned a horrified gaze towards her sister before addressing Ramsay directly. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but how about putting that knife down?”
Ramsay smiled coldly at the younger girl before he answered. “Oh, you know exactly who I am, so let’s not play any games.”
He gestured with his knife towards Theon. “Isn’t that why your brother and his friends are here?”
Sansa found herself nodding, knowing that once she told her dad about Ramsay’s unwanted attentions that had rapidly turned into stalking, Ned Stark would not only ask his son to watch over his sister, but all of Robb’s friends would be deputized as well.
She also realized that if she, Arya and Theon had any hope of getting out alive, she’s have to remain composed. “You know that the police are on their way,” she said as calmly as she could. “Just give yourself up now.”
Ramsay shook his head slowly, his dead eyed gaze never leaving Sansa’s face. “No, I don’t think so.”
And with those chilling words, Ramsay raised his arm to slice towards Sansa but instead, he found himself tacked to the ground by Arya, Theon, Robb and Jon Snow.
He tried struggling but he was quickly overpowered by the Stark pack’s superior strength and especially with Jon’s pressing down on his throat.
Sansa kicked the knife away out of Ramsay’s reach before she “accidentally” stepped on his hand.
At his cry of pain, Sansa smiled in satisfaction. “You should have given yourself up when you had the chance.”
She could hear the police sirens as they approached and she couldn’t help shivering, knowing this night could have ended in an entirely different way.
When she was asked, Sansa couldn’t quite tell you what direction her brother and Jon came from, she just knew they showed up in the nick of time.
Sansa looked at her family and knew her dad was right--as long as they stuck together, the Stark wolf pack would survive.
"Game of Thrones: The Pointy End (#1.8)" (2011)
Syrio Forel: "What do we say to the god of death?"
Arya Stark: "Not today."
Syrio Forel: "Go."