Vamps-ELWV-Section 1

Section 1: Inviting a Vampirgewehr Into Your Home


>It was the Saturday after election day, Trump won and the liberal tears were tasty
>You decided to celebrate with some friends at the range
>They brought all of their guns, and you brought all of yours
>Granted, 'all' consisted of 'one' at the time, but that didn't matter to you
>You brought your M1891/30, which you were proud of being able to buy it after paying tuition, rent for a few months, and a computer the summer previous
>No big accomplishment to anyone else, but you were proud to have not fucked up the math
>At the range, most of the guns of your friends had a Waffegeist, but yours either didn't or didn't care to show herself
>It didn't matter to you either way, if she didn't want to talk, then that's up to her
>If she did, you had a copy of American English Rosetta Stone in Russian in case she didn't speak English.
>The range was fun, however, you noticed that of your friends that you remembered were single had developed relationships with at least one of their Waffengeist, sometimes 2 or more
>You couldn't say you didn't envy them, but no one said that you and your rifle would be a good match.
>In fact, there were a few Waffengeist that looked like they disliked or hated their owners
>Especially the AR-15 that kept arguing with her owner when he wouldn't take her advice while zeroing her in
>You figured they would hate fuck later and ignored them.
Most of the day later, ammo had run dry except the 10 rounds in clips that you saved, telling yourself that you needed them to use for some good old 7.62x54r 'home defense'
>After getting home, you cleaned your rifle and put her away, making sure to treat her with care regardless of gun spirit or not
>And you go outside and check your mail
>Electric bill, water bill, internet bill
>Fucking hate bills, but living off campus allowed you to own guns and keep them with you, so you digressed
>Wait what's this?
>It's your concealed carry permit
>Not like you were going to conceal carry anytime soon, but you'd decided to get that whole process done before the election happened in case the she-devil won
>In retrospect, it might have been a bit foolish, but you felt more secure doing it this way.
>You put the card in your wallet by the time you go inside again and lock your door
>There's one last piece of mail, a letter from an old family friend who owns a gun store
>Confused as to why you're getting this, you open it read it
"Anon, bet you're glad we're free again, same here. I hope classes are going well and you're enjoying your rifle (don't worry, I haven't told your family, it's your business, not theirs). Has she shown herself to you yet? If not, then maybe you should try to coax her out using some old Patriotic music or learning Russian yourself. Speaking of rifles, it just so happens that I've got another one that you might be interested in. I've got a wife and kids, so it's not like I need another woman in my life. I'll let you know more when you're here. If you can make it back to town this weekend, I can let you check her out and take her with you. Let me know if you can show up, just call my cell. -Fredrick Jones"
"P.S. I'll throw in some ammo, but I suggest you save up for some more, all I'm gonna say is 6.5 Creedmoor"
>A free rifle
>6.5 Creedmoor



>You could think of cheaper calibers, but there was something about the strangeness of the round that drew you in
>And considering that the rifle was free, after doing some quick calculations, you realized that you could get a decently priced pistol to go with that fancy new CCP you just got
>And with that, you made plans to go home next weekend
>Not like the drive was anything horrendous, and you did get out of classes early on Friday, so you could make it home in time for some good home cooked food
>A pleasant change from the cheap stuff you'd make for yourself
>The next week went by quickly, and by Friday night you were home
>Food with family Friday night was excellent as always, friends from home were still the same band of sarcastic assholes on Saturday
>Sunday rolled around and you stopped at the gun store owned by your family friend
>Normally the store is closed on Sundays, but when he saw you come up to the door, he let you in immediately with a handshake
"Good to see you Anon, glad you could make it!"
>"Same, how's life been?"
"Pretty good, what about you?"
>"Same old, same old. Tough classes, no girlfriend to speak of, Katya still hasn't shown herself, and my job is boring, but freedom won, I've got a year left, and I was able to take the time out of my slow life to get back here, so pretty good all things considered."
"Katya?"
>"My Nagant, I figured I'd name her in case she decided she wanted to talk to me."
"Oh, alright. I'm impressed, you didn't immediately ask about the rifle like a kid on Christmas, almost makes me think you don't want it."
>"No, just figured that I shouldn't be rude when you're just giving me a rifle for free."
"Wow, you have changed since you've gone off to college. Got a girlfriend yet with that newfound manners?"
>"I just said that I don't have one to speak of, but either way, you know what I plan to do."
"Yeah, yeah, wait until you're out and then find someone where you end up. I can see that logic, but you need to live a little. You can't just keep yourself inside with your guns and your computer except for classes, range, and work. You'll probably do the same once you're out, so go meet a girl while you can, alright?"
>"I'll try, but no guarantees."
"Good, now come on in, the wife's made lunch once I told her you'd be coming, she still cooks the same way she always has, so you're not leaving hungry."
>With that, we went inside
>Frederick's store was actually connected to his house, where he, his wife, and two kids lived
>Fred's wife Mallory is the Waffegeist of a Lee Enfield No.4 Mk II that he saved from a police buyback scrapheap, and his kids were a Glock G23 and a Beretta Px4 Storm Compact. They weren't his actual kids, but they loved him and Mallory as if they were.
>Lunch was great, Mallory made some fish and chips that beat out any pub or restaurant
>Fred went to entertain the kids to give Mallory some time to clean up lunch
>You ended up helping Mallory with the dishes out of boredom, but you wouldn't tell her that
"Thank you for helping, you know you don't need to, Anon."
>"Least I can do. I rarely get to speak to you alone anyways, you're always either with the kids or Fred is in the room as well."
"Still, you don't have to. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I overheard you telling Frederick that you don't have a girlfriend is that right?"
>You sigh, knowing where this was going
>"Mrs. Jones, I'll be fine, I have been for the last few years since the last girlfriend, I'll be fine until I get out of college and settle down."
"Dear, you've known me long enough to be able to call me Mallory, and I'd prefer that you do, lest I start feeling like an old woman."
>"Sorry Mallory."


"It's fine, but while you might not want to, I remember how you were after that last girl broke up with you; you were so down that you didn't even blink when you got into that good college that you're at. You've gotten better, but you're still nowhere near what you used to be before you went off. You need a girl, and I can help you out if you let me."
>Okay, now you're a bit worried about where this is going
>"Mallory, what are you trying to do to me?"
"Why do you think I'm going to do something bad to you? Either way, since the last time you've been around here a few months ago, I've started up a website service called 'Matching Serials'. It's a site that I run that helps men and women in the nearby areas that are looking for a lifetime partner in the form of a Waffegeist, find the right one for them. I get to know all the girls in the shop personally, and any of them who want to find a nice owner put up profiles that I match with our owner profiles."
>You blink, Mallory has gotten very active since you've left for college, must be the idea of having 'kids' of her own
>"Mallory, I can't do that. What Waffegeist is going to want to put up with me? Even my Mosin doesn't change or talk to me"
"Oh, that one? I haven't gotten her to talk to me either, she's better off left to her own devices and will come out if she wants to. What I'm talking about is for us to find you some nice, young semi-automatic rifle to settle down with, like an AR variant or a SCAR, not some war hardened lady like me."
>"If the gaudy as all hell excuse for a rifle at the range the other day was indicative of all SCARs, I'd gladly end up with an AR any day of the week."
>You and Mallory had finished the dishes by now
    "Ah, yes, you're not wrong, they're a little full of themselves. But you see? You're getting the idea of it, now if you can wait for a little bit, I can go check the profiles of some of the girls and find one you might like to take with you back to your apartment, I swear I won't take long!"
    >Mallory sped out of the kitchen, almost knocking over Frederick on the way out
    "What's her hurry?"
    >"She's trying to set me up with a Waffegeist, despite my reservations about the matter."
    "Don't worry, it's a thing she's done recently. While it has worked in most cases, she's a bit overzealous of finding the girls new homes. Well, that, and she does worry about you after that one relationship ended, even though it was three years ago, time seems to pass differently for Waffegeists. Come on, let's go to the shop."
    >You were taken out to the back of the store by Fred
    >He grabs a box from the shelves and lays it on the counter
    "So you know that raffle the NRA did a while ago back before the election, right?"
    >"Hadn't heard of it, no."
    "Well it was a bunch of guns that were being raffled off with the idea that they were guns that the witch wanted to ban. What it really was, was a quick cash grab for the last few weeks by the NRA; only half of the guns would be covered under any sort of ban. And even then, we'd probably be safe here in the Midwest. We aren't Commiefornia. Anyways, I ended up wining one of those guns, and I can't say that I liked it much, but given what I've seen you shoot, I think you'd like this one."
    >He opened the box and pulled out a brand new Ruger Precision Rifle
    >He hands it to you and you begin poring over the rifle, examining every bit of it, running your hands over the surface, until you somehow manage to cut yourself
>You quickly remove your hand and hold the wound shut, it turned out to be a fairly large gash on your palm, running perpendicular to the natural fold lines
"Oh shit, let me get you something for that," Frederick says and disappears back to the house to get a bandage.
>You continue to look over the rifle, more carefully this time, and see a bit of blood right below the ejection port
>You reach to clean it up, but before you make contact, the blood disappears, as if sucked into the rifle
>You blink and shake your head, perhaps it wouldn't be a good idea to drive given that Mallory's cooking is apparently making you hallucinate
>Frederick comes back with a bandage and wraps your hand in it
"Sorry about that, that happened to me when I first looked at it too, although my cut wasn't as bad as this. You see that bolt-head on the other side that's sanded down, it's because I cut myself on it because it was sharp."
>You looked and saw the sanded down bolt. It was still operable, but just curved on the edges unlike the one next to it
"Here's some 6.5 for it, hope you get to use it sometime soon. Don't forget that classes come first though."
>"Of course Fred, thanks for everything"
"No problem, is there anything else you need?"
>"Not right now, but in a few weeks, I aim to purchase a pistol to go with my shiny new concealed carry permit."
"Glad you finally got around to getting that, I know you can't carry on campus, but having something for your apartment other than that Mosin or this RPR would be good. Anything in mind?"
>"Keeping with the Ruger trend, I'm looking at the new American compact or the SR9c. I like them both pretty well."
"Sure about the American? I've heard people complain that the back part of it bites into your thumb knuckle pretty bad."


>"Yeah, I fired one this past weekend and loved the way it felt, no biting the way I held it"
"Alright, I've got the sr9c here today, and I can order an American and give whichever one to you half off, I'll call when it's in."
>"Thanks again Fred, for everything."
"Not a problem! Oh, and Anon?"
>"Yeah Fred?"
"Please consider letting Mallory run you through the dating site she has."
>goddamnit.jpg
>"Really Fred, you too?"
"I know you well enough Anon, and she knows every gun in this store, and makes a point of knowing all the ones that come in. If you feel like you're not getting anywhere with girls at college, just let us know, and we can set up a few options for a date for you."
>"Fred, come on"
"I'm serious. We'd both rather have you happy with a Waffegeist than alone with a herd of cats or worse, with a liberal girl. Just think about it."
>"I will Fred. By the way, what did Mallory say about this rifle I'm taking with me?"
>Fred paused for a second and scratched his head
"She never talked to this one, couldn't even get a response. I think you might just have a plain, spirit-free rifle there. Which is why I stress the dating site."
>"Alright, she'll be right at home with my unresponsive Mosin then. I'll see you when the RAP comes in, bye Fred."
>He waves bye as you put the rifle box across the back seats of your car, get in, and drive away
>It's a little disappointing that this rifle probably doesn't have a spirit as well, but it's probably for the better. Your experience with dating anyone hasn't been the best
>With rifle in hand, you head back to your apartment, elated at a new rifle, but dejected at the missed opportunity
***
>"Did he leave already?!" Mallory asked as she ran into the store with papers in hand
"Yeah, he'll be back in a few weeks though when I get his pistol ordered"
>"Damn!"
"What?"
>"I had finally found a profile of a girl I think he would get along with, it's the Steyr AUG A3 we got in a while ago."
"Yeah, I think that would be a good match for him. But you know how he doesn't want to do that yet."
>"I don't see why not. You and I have proven that a rifle is fine, too."
"He doesn’t think that way though."
>Mallory sighs and slaps the papers down on the counter
>"So why was he here today? While it was nice to see him, I know he didn't come by just to have lunch with us." Mallory asked.
"I wanted to give him that Ruger Precision Rifle I won in the raffle, why?"
>Mallory's face went pale and she started shaking her head
>"Nonononono, that's not good, he can't have her!"
"What? Why not?"
>"She finally came out and talked to me last night. I've talked to many different types of guns, even ones like me with military backgrounds."
"And?"
>"And I can say that she's bad news. Never have I talked to a fellow Waffegeist and have felt scared after the interaction."
"You can't be serious."
>"I am, there was something about her that just felt off, and genuinely scared me, I didn't carry the conversation on for long, but when she heard she was getting a new owner, she got quiet again, but had a very devious looking smile before she went back into the box."
"Dear, he'll be fine. She might not even show herself like his Nagant and all of your worrying will be for nothing."
>"If you say so, but I feel something bad is going to happen with her."
"Alright, I'll check up on him every once and a while."
>"Thank you dear."
>She wraps her arms around him
>"Want to see if I can still run smoothly after all these years?"
"You mean like we did yesterday?"
>She kisses him on the lips for a few seconds
>"The kids are in the safe, they won't hear a thing."
"Why not?"
***
>When you got back from Fred and Mallory's, you set about the whole cleaning process for your new gun.
>You never really had any visitors to your apartment, so furniture wasn't a large concern of yours
>Ergo, due to the lack of table, you did your gun cleaning on the floor of your spare room on a unfolded cardboard box
>You figured that this would be a simple procedure, until you watched the youtube video on disassembly and found that you needed a set of allen wrenches
>Store is close by, might as well go get some
>You leave your rifle on the floor in the spare room, leaning it up in the corner
>Window blinds are closed, lights are off, shouldn't be an issue, especially since this is the nicer part of town
>Trip to the store takes no time at all, with the wrench set in hand, you head back home
>On the way home, you start to think of how to figure out of your RPR actually has a 'geist or not
>Fred said that it didn't come out and talk to Mallory, but that could just be new rifle being shy or something similar
>You doubt talking to it would fix anything, maybe leaving it unassembled?
>You've heard stories of how that almost forcefully brought out a weapon's 'geist, but you're not too sure if that's the best way to introduce yourself to a new rifle
>Oh well, might as well clean her and let her come out at her own pace. Don't want to make her feel uncomfortable in her new home
>You get back to your apartment, and get inside
>And something instantly feels wrong


>Your refrigerator is open
>The jug of cranberry juice is out, lid off, with a glass half full right next to it
>You don't remember pouring yourself a glass before leaving, and you most certainly didn't leave the fridge open
>Looking around before doing anything rash, you slowly make your way over to the knife block and pull out the largest one
>A quick yet careful search of your apartment later, you put the knife back in the block and are no less confused than when you arrived
>Mind racing, you go back to the spare room and find your new Precision Rifle exactly where you left it
>The situation is absolutely baffling. No signs of entry, nothing stolen, and nothing out of place except the cranberry juice
>The only answer you can think of is that one of your rifles has decided to change form while you were out
>"Alright girls," you yell out into your apartment, "Please put the juice back in the fridge if you have some. And let me know if we run out, okay?"
>You're greeted with silence
>-okay, maybe I'm just losing it- you think, setting about the task of cleaning the new rifle
>Cleaning goes easily, until you're reassembling the gun and you see excess oil in the receiver
>You stick your finger in with a patch to wipe it off and the bolt slams on your hand
>Immediately, you grab the bolt and pull it back, finding another nasty gash in your hand
>You look at the wound before you shut it with superglue, and you're surprised by it
>It felt like a slashing wound and it went deep, but it looks like it's only a surface scratch
>However, instead of bleeding profusely, it's only slowly seeping blood
>You hurry through the last few steps of reassembly and then take care of the wound
>When you get back to the room, you place the rifle in the corner next to your computer, clean up the cleaning supplies, and start playing some WarThunder
>This goes on for the rest of the evening, with some breaks in between games for some dinner and other business
>But one thing's for sure
>You've got this nagging feeling that you're being watched by something with less than admirable intent
>And what's worse
>You get the feeling that it's stronger than you.
***

>As far as you can tell, that was the beginning of it all
>You were slowly beginning to lose your mind due to the paranoia
>Monday was a normal day at classes, utterly mundane, but that's par for the course
>You didn't get as much sleep as you wanted last night since you were a little unsettled by the strange happenings surrounding your rifles
>At some point during the day, you go onto your favorite Taiwanese girl cartoon forum to the weapons board
>After asking around, you realize that you came to the wrong place
>Everyone wants you to stick your dick in your rifle and take pictures....while the rifle is in rifle form
>Not gonna be able to deal with this shit today
>So you go to the paranormal board
>They're a little more helpful, in that they give some general tips you've heard before
>But they're a little confused when you think that your issues are related to your rifles
>As if they've never considered a rifle to be malicious or a trickster
>Oh well, you figured this would be a dead end anyways
>You get through classes and head home
>And once again, just like when you got home from the store yesterday, you feel that something's wrong
>The dishes are cleaned and put away
>Granted, you did have to hurry out the door this morning as you overslept a little bit, so you don't think you did the dishes
>Or did you?
>You can't remember
>This isn't going to be a good week if this keeps up
>You make some dinner, making sure to keep track of whether you've cleaned up or not
>You did, so at least you know if it comes up
>You move over to your computer to try to enjoy yourself
>As you open the door to your room, you find everything exactly where you left it
>Even the Ruger Precision Rifle still on the cardboard box you cleaned it on
>"Shit, sorry about making you sleep on cardboard last night, I'll set you in my bedroom with Katya tonight."
>Once again, you get no response from the metal
>"Fine, be that way," you say as you set her against the desk
>Back to the original plan
>You've been on a Warthunder tanks binge lately and figured to continue that
>So you boot it up and get into a few matches
>Fuck this is grind-y as shit
>Even more grind than World of Tanks
>And this is still tier 1
>After a few games, you get a text from a classmate in a project group with you
>Apparently you have to meet right now to fix a problem with it
>And of course, it's due tomorrow
>So you quickly put some shoes on and head out, locking the door behind you
>The project work goes slowly and you get back home around 11pm
>When you get back, you realize you left your computer on with Warthunder open
>You start a match immediately without looking
>Got one of those rare 3 second ques
>So the match loads and you click a tank to use
>Wait a minute
>Are you in a T-34?
>Last you checked, you only had tier 1 tanks
>You did leave before a match had ended, but you didn't think you were that close to researching it
>Despite that, you're driving an early model of a T-34 with the short 76-mm gun
>Sure, let's try this out

>A few minutes later, you get crushed
>As it turns out, you were placed in a higher battle rating match due to your T-34
>Which you fucked up using and were killed by a M4 Sherman with the 105-mm howitzer
>The other two tanks you had were still tier 1, so they got fucked even quicker
>So the days of zipping around the map and ripping through half the enemy team in a T-50 are over
>And on that note, you decide it's time to go to bed
>You get the feeling you're forgetting something after you get ready for bed, but the pillow feels so good
>Combined with the lack of sleep from last night, you go to sleep quickly
>A few hours into your rest at 3am, you wake up to the sound of a glass shattering and a door slamming shut
>Ever the action hero, you grab Katya from next to your headboard
>You open the drawer of your nightstand and procure forth a 5-round stripper clip
>Loading the clip as you get out of bed, you brandish the rifle towards your door
>You close the bolt as you use the rifle to open the door handle and go out into your main area
>No one there
>Pulling on all of the operator experience you don't have, you make it through the dark apartment and still find nothing wrong
>You sweep through the spare room last, finding nothing out of place
>But you do find that you forgot
>Your RPR is still where it was before, leaning against the desk
>"Oh damn it, I'm sorry, come on, let's go back to bed."
>You take a rifle in each hand and make your way back towards your room
>Must have been the neighbor who made those noises
>Right as you think this, you step on something that hurts a lot
>You drop a rifle to grab your foot with that hand
>While hopping on one foot to examine the other, you trip backwards over something and hit your head against the only piece of furniture in the living room, your couch
>You must have hit a hard part, because you're knocked out instantly
***

>You wake up the next morning to the sound of your alarm going off and a throbbing pain in your head
>Feeling where your head hurts, you can make out the shape of the welt that formed overnight
>You survey your surroundings
>Why are you in the living room?
>What is your Nagant doing in your left hand?
>Why is your RPR muzzle at one of your feet?
>You look past the RPR to find empty floor
>But why does your foot really hurt?
>You look up and find the central ceiling light cover broken, as if someone punched through it
>Oh shit, your foot needs to be tended to
>Learning from the last time, you sit and bring your foot into view
>What the fuck?
>You find no glass in the bottom of your foot, but you do find a few marks where the glass would be, scabbed over
>No fresh blood anywhere on the floor, and none coming out
>This, combined with the knowledge that your RPR was by that foot confuses you more
>You remember that while at Fred's place you had to double take when the rifle cut you as the blood disappeared
>Was this the same thing?
>Or did you even cut yourself deep enough to have that issue?
>Your second alarm goes off
>You don't have time to ponder this if you're going to get ready and make it to class on time, so you get up gingerly, and limp over to put your rifles on your bed and cover them with a blanket
>You make yourself presentable enough and go out the door to class
>Today's classes were more intensive, which didn't help in the slightest given your condition
>Your head and foot hurt, and you're trying to figure out everything that's gone on
>And none of this helps you understand the finer points of control systems
>So today was mostly a waste to you
>You do some homework on campus before heading home again
>Dinner was simple as it was almost 10pm by the time you got home
>More computer games? Why not
>You walk into your spare room and stop as your non-injured foot hits something
>Maybe you should turn on some light
>What the fuck?
>Since when did the lightbulb get that dim?
>Come to think of it, the kitchen was also dismaly dim
>Was it just the bad day you had affecting the things that happen in your mind?
>You ponder this as you look down at your foot
>Nope, it's not just the bad day with classes, it's everything about today
>You find all of your 6.5 Creedmoor emptied out onto the floor, all 100 rounds of it
>In the middle of the ammo is your Ruger Precision Rifle
>You really need to get a name for her, but you figure that she can pick her name out, unlike when you got Katya
>You pick up your RPR and realize something
>She's slick
>You get the flashlight from your phone, and find that she's covered in gun oil
>Is this supposed to be some strange rifle porn scene?
>You have to clean the rifle off now because of this
>Looking at it, you guess you're going to have to disassemble it again even though you cleaned it Sunday
>Fine, whatever
>But this time, you came prepared
>You put on a pair of cut resistant gloves that you had from an internship at a factory
>No cut fingers tonight
>You begin to clean the rifle again, taking a lot of time to make sure that it's properly dry
>When drying off the barrel, you place it against your arm to get the rod and patch through
>You feel a pinch on your arm, and move the barrel away to find a long, but shallow cut
>You curse and go wash it off
>People at school were already wondering what was going on with the cuts on your hands, but this...
>This would make them go off the deep end and think you had got in a fight or are being abused by a new girl
>Well, that second one could very well be true, depending on if this RPR had a 'geist
>You finish cleaning your wound and then finish cleaning your gun
>When you look at the ammo pile, you see it's all boxed up again
>You don't remember doing that
>This is the first time you've looked at the ammo since you picked up the rifle
>Or was it?
>As far as you were concerned, you didn't care, the mess was cleaned up and you could get to bed
>To make up for thelost time last night, you go to bed earlier than usual
>However, it's not peaceful
>You begin to feel a feeling of anger coming from somewhere in your apartment, but you know no one is there but you and your rifles
>This goes on for a while, but at some point, you are woken up by some screeching noises
>You try to investigate the noises to find some bats have taken up roost on the underside of the roof of your small patio
>At least they weren't the hornets that were here when you moved in
>But these bats were making bat noises, and it reminded you of the cicadas in summer
>You go back inside and try to sleep
>And much like the cicadas from home, these bats keep you from falling asleep for a long time
***
>And just like when it happened back home, your alarm went off way too soon the next morning
>More classes, but the most important part of today was the presentation for your design group
>Good thing you had prepared last night, because today was going to be hell

>Classes are normal for the most part, however, you do actually fall asleep in one of them
>The prof wakes you up by throwing a water bottle at you and hitting you in the head
>You deserved it
>Not even mad
>Then again, how could you be at the prof that probably fought for the IRA, yet was friendly as all hell outside of class?
>You managed to stay awake long enough for class to be over and get an energy drink from the campus convenience store
>It was gone in minutes
>On your way over to the convenience store, you put in your earbuds and put on some music over Spotify
>Business as usual, until the music changed without you doing anything
>Right in the middle of "Revelation" by Symphony X, your music changes to "Lust for Blood" by Powerwolf
>Pulling out your phone, you hit the pause button and re-que up the original song, but within seconds, it changed back to the latter
>You're too tired to be assed to deal with it, so you just let it happen
>After a while, you've decided that whatever force that made this playlist is whatever is causing what's been happening with your house lately
>Namely, it might be one of the rifles
>Considering that they have access to the computer that your Spotify account is linked through, you wouldn't be surprised by it
>But you were surprised by the choices of songs
>It started out with a lot of Powerwolf, namely "All you Can Bleed", "All We Need is Blood", "We Drink Your Blood", and "Vampires Don't Die"
>But then it changed course, turning to "Magic Forest" by Amberian Dawn, "Run to the Hills" by Iron Maiden, and "Keep your Eyes Peeled" by Queens of the Stone Age
>Then it changed back to blood related themes with "Blooddrunk" by Children of Bodom, "Blood on your hands" by Arch Enemy, and "Blood for the Blood God" by Deubachery
>And then, things got weird...
>"I Love my Computer" by Bad Religion played, and it made you wonder if your Mosin had watched you work one out before
>"Living Weapon" by Warbringer showed up, and you took out your headphones
>If you get home and your rifle is giving you a shit eating grin, it's gonna be the end of whichever one it is
>You're pretty sure that one or both of your rifles change forms when you're not around, but until they show themselves, you can't be certain
>Your presentation goes as well as it can given the lack of sleep you've had recently
>You get home, eat dinner, do some homework while in the kitchen
>When you move to your computer room, you brace for the worst as you open the door
>And see nothing out of place
>Much to your surprise and relief
>Except your Ushanka is sitting on the barrel of your Mosin in the corner
>You think it's fairly appropriate decor and leave it
>After playing some games and finishing the rest of the homework, you manage to go to bed
>But once again, the bats outside your window are loud, and it sounds like there are more of them this time
>Just what you wanted
>After being unable to sleep for three hours, you get a broom and head outside to your patio
>Swing the broom around and try to get the bats to leave
>With some violent yelling and broom swinging, the bats leave
>Finally
>Now you can get some quality sleep
>You look at the clock again
>2:30am
>Well, you'll get as much as you can now
>And you fall asleep
>3:45am
>You're woken up by something
>You listen for a bit
>They're back
>You give up and just try to sleep through it and only get a few more hours after exhaustion hits
***
>You wake up Thursday morning dead to rights given how tired you are
>But nothing seems out of the ordinary
>Strangely enough
>So you go about your day on Thursday
>You've gotten so little sleep that even random people who cross your path in the hallways on campus notice something's wrong with you
>More so than usual that is
>The laughter continues, but instead of the maniacal laughter, this time it's more of a bemused chuckle
>You manage to stay awake much longer than you thought possible due to the fear that this laughter has managed to impress on you
>At some point, you start talking to yourself
>Initially just rambling, but at some point, you come up with the idea that it's all in your head
>So you somehow manage to prop the Nagant up with the stock at your feet and the barrel looking you in between the eyes
>"If I stop my brain from making this laughter, then I won't have to hear it, right?"
>You say to no one in particular
>You look over and grab the bayonet that came with Katya and reach down to the trigger guard, failing to insert it in to get to the trigger
>Something makes you look up across the room, and you notice that the RPR is no longer where it was before
>-So where is it?-
>As you think this, something blunt hits you in the head
>Hard
>You drop the bayonet that was about to go into the trigger guard and slowly black out
>The laughter is gone now, only to be replaced by crying for a few seconds before you black out
***

>Somehow after all that, there was only an hour and a half of sleep that you got
>Being knocked out can count, but you didn't want to
>You wake up to find your Ruger Precision Rifle in your arms and a blanket draped over your body
>How did this happen?
>Thinking back to last night, you realize in horror that you almost killed yourself due to the voices in your head
>But given that you're now covered in a blanket and a different rifle than the one you had the night before is in your arms, were those noises actually in your head?
>Back to the RPR
>Why was it in your arms after it disappeared last night?
>You can't say that you've got a good relationship with this rifle
>In fact you've even blamed it for some of the happenings
>You don't have a scope for it, you haven't been out shooting, you figure it's done most of the stuff, especially the music fiasco and the one with the lightbulb, and you've cut yourself on it multiple times
>But why are you hugging it like it's done nothing wrong?
>Or is it letting you hold it to apologize for what you've done previously?
>You don't know
>All you know, is that for sure, this confirms that one or both of your rifles have a Waffegeist
>But which one?
>It might be the RPR, especially after you found your RPR in rifle form amidst all the spilled 6.5 Creedmoor that one day
>But it could be Katya since you found a pile of 7.62x54r with a note saying 'BAD' on them Thursday evening
>But it could also be the Precision Rifle considering that she wound up in your arms last night
>But then again, Katya could have a playful side and put the rifle there
>And then Katya could have also put the RPR in the pile of ammo and covered her in oil
>You have no damn clue
>But you have a plan…
***
>But you have a plan…
>You get up and mess around your apartment as you have no classes today
>And you notice that things are out of place for no rhyme or reason
>Like your chair was across the room
>Fridge rearranged
>Whatever
>You make some breakfast and go on campus to work with your design group for a while
>Given how tired you are, you don't get much work done
>Your design group-mates even say that it's fine to go after a few hours
>They'll probably throw you under the bus later, but at this point, you're going to graduate anyways, not like it matters
>As you're making your way back to your apartment, you get a message from some friends
>They're wanting to go to lunch with you because you seem like you're in bad shape mentally and you need a break
>They're not wrong
>So you go have lunch out with some friends
>While they are your friends, no one said they would be helpful much
>Despite the amount of caffeine you had with lunch, you almost seem more exhausted by interacting with them
>Especially the two who tried to get you to join them in downloading Tinder
>Even though anyone who noticed would say that you were at that point, you were still refusing to download it
>After lunch, you go back to your apartment and play a few games before realizing the time
>It's almost 4pm
>You figure that you should go do some more work before you give in and pass out
>Finals are next week, so you try to do some studying for them on campus
>But it's largely a moot effort
>Unable to focus on it that much after the events of the week, you head home
>When you get home, you notice that the washing machine was on
>You think to yourself
>-'It's time to settle who's the Waffegeist once and for all'-
>You don't feel like eating something, but you figure that you need some food for the next few days
>So it's time to cook
>You bring both rifles out to the kitchen and set them in the corner in front of the dishwasher
>"Alright, I'm going to make some food for the next few days, and I want to spend some time with you both, so you can help if you want"
>This will get them to come out
>You get some rice and water in the rice cooker, but you're not done there yet
>So you get a small bowl and put some Worchestershire sauce in it
>Time for a test
>"Can you get me the pepper grinder, onion powder, rosemary, lemon pepper, and garlic powder? They're in the cabinet above the sink."
>You deliberately turn around and stick your head in the fridge to look for something
>After hearing the scraping of the glass containers on wood, you pull your head out and look at the counter
>Lo and behold, the spices are on the counter, and rifles inert in the corner
>Wait, where's the garlic powder?
>"You forgot the garlic powder, can you get that?"
>Head back into fridge, turn around a few seconds later
>There it is
>"Okay, so one of you doesn't like garlic."
>This sucks
>You put garlic in EVERYTHING
>Spice of the gods
>And now one of your rifles is denying you that
>You guess it's time to try life without garlic
>You put the spices in the sauce and pour it in the rice cooker, it gives the rice more taste than just 'rice flavored rice'
>Then you make some strips of steak with the same flavor mix and start cooking that in a pan
>You're still coming to grips with the garlic deficiency that's in your food when the dryer buzzes, signaling it's done
>You walk away from the stove into the laundry room and find that there were, in fact, clothes were in the dryer and done
>You stand there for a few minutes, trying to remember when you took the clothes from the washer and then put them in the dryer
>Unless the rifles did it
>Wait
>Rifles are in the kitchen
>Shit

>You remember that you were cooking and dash back out to the kitchen
>And find that your steak wasn't cooked to a crisp
>The heat was turned down to low
>"Thanks for saving my food, tell me next time you do a stealth load of laundry."
>No response
>The rest of cooking goes well, and you have a little bit before you put the rest of it away
>The lack of garlic is very noticeable and it's all you think about while eating
>You take the rifles back to your room
>You set your Mosin next to your headboard, and the Precision Rifle goes at the foot of your bed
>Glancing at the clock, you see it's only about 7pm
>Fuck it, maybe you'll get some good sleep tonight
>Or at least try
>Turning off the lights and closing the blinds, you collapse into bed, face first onto your pillow
>Gladly, you don't hear any bats
>They must have left after last night, not that they'd know what happened
>Your voice is muffled through the pillow, but before you pass out, you manage to say something
>"I know that one or both of you can change forms, these past few days have proven it. I'm getting sick of these pranks. Last night's almost turned out bad for all of us. If you want to come out and talk with me, don't feel like I'm stopping you, you're welcome to change form. This is your home and you're welcome to be here."
>Under your breath, which is further muffled by the pillow
>"And if nothing else, I'm lonely"
>And you pass out..
>...For a while at least
>You wake up feeling uncomfortably warm
>What the fuck
>You look over and see that it's midnight
>Wait
>If you were still prone, you'd turn your head the other way
>Your chest is also really heavy
>You try to move your arms to move the weight off your chest, but you find them tied to the headboard
>Uh oh
>A hand grabs your jaw and turns your head straight
>You finally get a look at the weight on your chest
>It's a woman
>A good looking one at that
>You don't remember going out and picking up someone at a bar, but here she is
>You're mentally congratulating yourself that you managed to convince a girl to come home with you
>Until you see her hair
>Is that the Ruger logo in a hair style?!
>So it was your Precision Rifle
>Well at least that mystery's solved
>On to the next one...
>Why is it getting warmer in here?
>You shift your eyes down a little more to find that her mouth is at your neck
>Are those your glasses she's wearing?
>You try to speak, but only a small gurgling noise comes out
>The woman takes her mouth away from your throat
"Hey, you're awake!"
>She smiles at you with an open mouth
>The area around her lips is red with blood
>Are those fangs?
>You lean your head over to see a growing red spot on your sheets
>As you turn your head back towards the woman, you start to black out
>The last thing you see is the woman stroking your cheek
>The last thing you hear is another woman’s voice
*MASTER!!*
>And then you’re out cold
***
>Much to your surprise, you actually wake up the next morning
>You look around quickly and see no trace of the RPR
>You try to move your hands, and find that they are no longer tied to the headboard
>They are asleep though
>Slowly, your hand makes its way to the place where you were bit last night, and find that there's no open wound
>Just a single small hole
>Wait, only one?
>You'll have to ask her about that
>Actually, there's quite a bit you'll have to ask her about
>Like why the hell she didn't show herself immediately
>Or why the weird things kept happening
>Or most importantly, why she interrupted the most sleep you've had in a week to take the blood out of you
>She was the reason you'd gotten so little sleep the past week
>She was the reason why you almost killed yourself
>You were right to blame her for all of this
>But that can be sorted out later
>You take a survey of your surroundings
>Nothing has changed about the general layout of your bedroom
>Through squinted eyes, you notice your glasses are gone
>Your sheets are still blood colored from where your blood spilled
>The door is cracked open
>So maybe she's decided to run away or something
>Might be better for your health
>Wait, what's that smell?
>You think you can smell breakfast being cooked in your kitchen
>You just hope that she is either standing there cooking, or is done cooking and the kitchen still smells the same
>There's one way to find out, and you try to get out of bed
>Even shifting sideways a foot to the edge of your bed made you light-headed
>Might just be better to wait until she comes back
>If she does
>Looking over, you see that there's a glass of orange juice on the nightstand
>Having given blood before, you know that the glass of OJ is your quickest route to feeling normal again
>What you forgot about this though, is that you're very light-headed from a few seconds ago
>When you try to grab the glass, you are on the edge of your bed reaching for it
>And you fall out of bed right as your fingers get the glass into your hand

>You fall face first onto the floor, and a split second later, you feel the glass hit your head, followed by the sinking feeling of liquid running through your hair
>Finding yourself muttering into a surface again, you lament the situation you're in
>"I fucking hate my life"
>You hear the door open
"Aww, is someone still light headed and spilled his recovery juice?"
>You're grabbed by a pair of hands wrapping around your upper chest under your arms
>The arms drag you onto the bed in a sitting position with your back against the wall
>You can't see much because you don't have your glasses and your vision is utter garbage without them
>The person that the arms belonged to were gone for a few moments until you see the shape of a woman walks back into your room with another glass of orange juice and a plate of bacon, eggs over hard, and toast
>She puts the plate on your lap and hands you the glass
>Before she can say anything, you've viciously attacked the orange juice while making the contents on the plate into a sandwich
>Orange juice gone, you eat the sandwich in record time
>You're feeling better now after that
"A thank you wouldn't be out of place, you know."
>You look up and can make out that the woman is standing with her arms folded
>"Thanks," you manage to choke out
"You're welcome, give me a second."
>She takes the plate and glass from you and walks out of the room
>About a minute later, she comes back with another glass of juice and a partially wet towel
"Let me clean the juice off of you, don't want that getting messed up."
>She moves to your side and starts cleaning your hair
>Can't deny that her running a towel through your hair feels good
>It's been a while since a girl had messed with your hair, since your last girlfriend actually
>A few more swipes of the towel, and your hair is clean
"There, you good for now?"
>"Yeah, I can't see very well though"
"Yeah? Well neither can I since you didn't even bother to get me an optic when you got me from that old man."
>You then remembered that she didn't come with a scope or even iron sights
>Kinda defeats the purpose of a precision rifle when there's no sights or scope
>The good news is that this next week is finals week for you, and you don't have one until Wednesday
>You also feel pretty good about them, so studying will definitely be a last minute thing
>"Alright fine, my bad. We can go to the local gun store tomorrow and see what they have in terms of optics. Until then, I'm going to need my glasses so I can see."
"Nope, they're mine now."
>This is going to be an interesting time
>"No, they're definitely my glasses, in the same sense that you're definitely my rifle."
"Right because you have so much control and power over me. They're mine."
>"You know I can just make you change back into a rifle again, right?"
"Yeah, but given your current state, I bet that I could drain you hard enough again that you'd pass out and miss the next few days of your life."
>"Please give them back?"
"As soon as you get me a scope."
>"I can't legally drive without glasses."
"Then I'll drive and you'll just be the wallet."
>You're scared at the prospect of a new rifle driving a car without ever having seen it been done before
>And just when you think you're out of options, you remember something
>"If you give me those back, I can go find the old pair that I used to use and let you have them for now."
"Ugh, fine"
>She takes the glasses off, but instead of handing them to you, she puts them on your face
>You finally get a good look at her
>You can't complain
>From looking at the plate, your eyes start out down at the floor
>She's wearing black leather knee-high boots, followed by matching black pants that show off the nice shape of her legs
>The first change in color comes from her belt buckle, which of course is the Ruger logo in red
>As you continue your way up, you find that apparently, it's not separate pants, but instead an entire black bodysuit
>And she's wearing a stylized black leather corset that only helps display her assets
>The only thing that isn't leather or some similar material, is her long coat
>Of course, also black
>After realizing how her dark clothes contrast the light of the room, you get a look at her face
>Her face is beautiful as far as you're concerned, however her skin is an almost unhealthy pale
>Her hair is in fact styled like the wings on the Ruger logo, but you now notice that it is a very platinum blonde, almost silver
>You can't really tell the actual height from your sitting position, but you get the feeling that she's anywhere from 5'6" to 6'
>Again, not that you're complaining
>The last thing you notice though, is that her irises are bright red
>Not unlike fresh arterial blood, which you would know from your misadventures last night
"Got it in your mind good enough?"
>"Huh?"
"You've been staring at me for about a minute, and while it's not like I appreciate someone appreciating my design, can I get those glasses now?"
>"Shit, yeah, sorry."
>You go to stand up, but your legs are still weak
>Your rifle notices your troubles and supports you with her arm under your shoulders and you walk towards your spare room
>Yep, she's about 5'9", she can almost look you in the eyes at 5'10"
>"So you're my new Ruger Precision Rifle then."
"You're not even surprised?"
>"No, I've met plenty of Waffengeist before, I'm just a little surprised at the circumstances."
"Waffengiest?"
>"You know, like you. A weapon that can change forms into a woman and back again."
>She stops moving, making you stop with her when you're right in front of the closet where the glasses are.
"I know what the term is, you ass. However, you're not entirely right about that. I can change form at will, but with me, there's more to it."
>"What do you mean?"
>You reach down and grab the glasses case and hand them to her
>She opens it and puts the glasses on
>You can't say you dislike the new look, also the fact that an attractive woman is wearing your glasses
>She moves you over to your computer chair and sits you down before sighing and begins pacing
"Let me tell you why you're a little bit off."
>You sit and get ready for a story
"So with any gun company nowadays, there’s a decent number of the guns they make that turn out to have a Waffegeist. Ruger’s CEO does treat us fairly well, but he keeps the actual numbers a secret from everyone else. However, as with any workplace that deals in weapons, there's always the possibility that any one of us could be used against our builders. This is where we get to a machine operator named Leviticus. Leviticus was a decent worker, wife and two kids; one son, one daughter. However, his wife and son were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and were victims in an armed shooter's escape."
>You hold out a hand to pause her
>"What does a simple machine operator's wife and kid being killed have to do with your current state?"

"Don't interrupt. And it's not them that makes it all piece together. It's the murder weapon. The murder weapon was a Ruger9E. Leviticus was livid about that since he was on the 9E line, and decided to take it out on the company. He came in one day and broke some machines and rifles. We were lucky that none of them had a Waffegeist. He was sent to prison instead of sued because there was another worker that was injured in his rampage. While he was in prison, he found out about the existence of Waffengeist from other convicts, and found some occult books in the prison library. He began to study the occult and ended up making a lot of plans for how to get back at the company."
>"So how did anything come of this?"
>Your rifle walks over and flicks your cheek with her middle finger, giving off a solid smacking sound
"Let me finish, damn it. Leviticus couldn't stand being unable to perform the fell ritual he was researching, and eventually, all the research into the occult drove him insane. At one point he wrote all of his research down and wrote a will before killing himself. The will said that everything he had, including those notes were to go to his daughter. By this point, the daughter, Alice, took the will and all of his research. During her time at college, she was indoctrinated to hate guns by the liberal professors there, and all of this research became a way to get rid of guns towards her. After some more research, Alice ended up performing the fell ritual that her father set out to perform. No one knew what was going on until some of the weapons recently manufactured woke up when no one was looking."
>"Did Rugers have weapon spirits before this happened?"
"Yes, there were a few here and there, but they were kept under wraps. But after this ritual, all of the weapons that came out were twisted. The spirits were stranger, and more violent than the ones before them. And worst of all, they had an intense desire for the taste of blood. The Mother of Rifles tried to reverse the ritual, but after a large expenditure of power, she was only able to reduce the effect. The new rifles weren't as violent and didn't need to be sated by the taste of blood for longer periods. The older Waffengeist then named us 'Vampir-Waffen' or Vampire guns. Since I'm a rifle, I'm a 'Vampirgewehr' or 'Vampire Rifle'. Needless to say, we aren't the most highly thought of spirits out there."
"And that brings us to the here and now, where you're my new owner, and I'm your new Vampirgewehr. Any questions?"
>You sit there and take it all in for a few minutes, just staring at the ground, at her, at your monitor, at her again
>You had plenty of questions, but where to start?
>When you're staring at your monitor, she taps the side of your head and brings your attention back to her
"You're trying to ask something, but you're not sure if I'll get offended, aren't you? You can go ahead and ask and we'll deal with whether I'm offended or not later."
>"I'm, uh...well, I'm not sure where to start I guess, and I don't want to make you feel bad about anything, and uh..."
>She looks around while you spill your spaghetti
"How about I motivate you to hurry up?"
>She takes off her coat, walks over to you, and sits across your lap
>She flips her hair out of the way even though it wasn't in the way to begin with and moves her mouth towards your throat
>Before it gets there, you notice something peculiar and grab her lower jaw to stop her
"What?" she asks with a squished mouth before closing it
>"Open your mouth."
>She tenses up at those words and covers her mouth with a hand
"Why?"

"You can hear me just fine, and it's not like you haven't seen in it before."
>"What's wrong with you? I need to confirm what I saw before I ask the question, open your mouth."
>She opens her mouth under the cover of her hand
"See? It's open, nothing to worry about!"
>You're having none of this and reach up and pull her hand away while holding her mouth open with the other one
>She twists and turns to try to get away from your grip, but to no avail
>You finally get a good look at what caught your eye
>It's the reason you only have a single bite wound on your neck
>One of her fangs is long and sharp, but the other one doesn't look like it's any bigger than a normal sized tooth of that slot
>It also looks like the shorter one has been sanded down or something
>She is still struggling to get away when you ask her about it
>"So you're a vampire with only one fang?"
"It's because of your stupid friend with that stupid handheld sander of his!"
>You look at her face as she turns her head away from you
>Pretty sure those are tears
>"Look at me, please"
>She complies
>Yup, those are tears
>You reach a hand up to wipe the tears off, but she swats it away
"Do you think I wanted to lose a fang just because he was careless and cut himself?! Do you?!"
>"No, but you could have just not bit him?"
>She scoffs
"Oh yeah, because I don't have control over my damn actions, is that it?! No, I didn't even reach out to bite him, he was just careless and cut himself on that bolt, so he figured that sanding it down would fix the problem. So here I am, with only one fang, so I can only drink at half the rate and it infuriates me!"
>She's so mad that she's shaking at this point.
>"Well, that's probably a good thing for me, gives me longer to stop you before I pass out from you taking what you want."
"Well excuse me for wanting something to eat after just getting a taste from when you got cut. You didn't let me change form, so there was no way I could do anything about it!"

>You shrink away from the now angry Vampirgewehr
>Not like that does anything since she's on your lap
>You’re not sure what to say to her to take her ire away from you
“And you know the worst part about it all? It still hurts. I feel what happens to me in that form, and when he grinded down that bolt, I was in pure agony. I was screaming in my head for him to stop and the pain to end, but he kept grinding and grinding for what felt like an eternity. I was shaking when he finally finished. When he put that bolt back in place, I tried to bite him for putting me in such pain, but nothing happened. I changed forms after he locked up the shop and found that my fang was now the size of my other teeth.”
>”So you changed forms while he wasn’t there just like with me, alright.”
>Your vision blurs for a moment
>You now have a stinging feeling on your right cheek
>A few seconds later, there’s a feeling of a slow drip down your cheek
>Looking at her hand, you see that the tips of her fingers have pointed nails, and are also dripping with blood
>You look at her face, and all evidence of tears are gone
“QUIT FUCKING INTERRUPTING ME!”
>Oh shit
>The look on her face gives you the impression that she doesn’t care that you’re her owner right now, and just a pest
>After a quick assessment of the situation, you take the best course of action for any man anywhere in this situation
>Time to apologize
>"Look, I'm sorry about touching on that subject, I didn't mean to get you angry or remind you about your fangs being damaged, I'm sorry that I didn't let you out until now, sorry about not getting you an optic or scope mounts, and I'm sure there's more that I should be sorry for."
>She loses the tension she had in her body as if about to strike me again
>She blinks twice as if surprised
“Wait, you’re apologizing to me?”

>”Well yeah, I know that I can’t control everything that happened to you, but I feel really bad about the things that I did do, I’m sorry.”
"Jeez, you keep apologizing like that and you'll make me feel bad for you," she chuckles while trying to hide the evidence of her crying and her strike on your cheek
>"I'm serious though, I’m really sorry, I've been a pretty bad owner so far, I mean, we haven't even made it out to the range yet."
"How are we gonna do that with no sights or scope?"
>"Oh, right."
"Look, from what I've heard from the other Waffengeist that come back to the factory for repairs and such, you haven't done anything to make me think you're a bad owner yet."
>"Ok, I'm relieved."
"Believe me, I'd let you know if you were a giant sack of shit that needed to be disposed of. Hell, I might have even done it myself if you were that bad."
>"Oh, that's a relief"
>Sarcasm dripping from your voice
>She laughs at what you said
>Still sitting on your lap, she wraps her arms around you in a hug
>”So what about the rest of that night?”
“Oh, well, after a while of sitting there and crying, some of the other Waffengeist showed themselves. A few of them tried to figure out what was wrong, but the moment I opened my mouth to answer, still crying mind you, they all saw my fangs and shied away once they knew what I was. The reason that Ruger guns have a reputation for being biters is because of our curse, most Vampir-waffen don’t change forms and have to get blood through ‘biting’ their owners.”
>You were lucky she answered your question before you even asked it, because you almost interrupted again

“Eventually, there was a shorter girl that looked about as old as me, wearing olive green track pants and a black tank top, with the same colored green jacket around her waist, who came up to me and didn’t shy away when I opened my mouth. She sat with me for the rest of the night, not saying anything past her initial questions of what happened, just holding my hand in hers as I continued to cry.”
>She pauses long enough that you think it safe to ask a question
>”What kind of gun was she?”
“She introduced herself as a Steyr AUG A3, why?”
>You get a strange feeling in the back of your mind, but it’s gone almost as quick as it appeared
>Maybe you might get Mallory to introduce her to you as part of her dating site
>Sounds like a nice girl
>Might be worth giving her dating site a shot
>What is there to lose?
>”No reason, just curious as to what kind of gun would want to speak with you in that situation.”
“Oh, alright. Well she stayed with me as long as she could, I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, I was found by that man’s wife. She had a few questions for me regarding a dating site. I wanted none of that in the state I was in, so I was probably very rude. She told me that I was going to a new owner, and I think I might have scared her with how devious of a smile I adopted at those words. I went into the box and then you lived the rest. So yeah, here we are.”
>”I’m sorry I didn’t know or guess sooner, I’m a really bad owner.”
"Don't worry, there's nothing that has made me hate you in my time here, you're a fine owner."
>She squeezes her arms a bit, leaning further into the hug
>You feel a slight prick on your neck and violently nudge the chair to dislodge her
>She pulls her face back into view and looks at you with a sad and dejected face
"What? Are you still afraid from the last time I drank from you?"
>"A little, it was definitely not pleasant."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to be that alarming, but I hadn't consumed since I was built other than those small snacks, so I really needed it."
>"I understand, it was just really scary to wake up to that."
"Okay, will you be alright with it if I let you know ahead of time?"
>"I should be fine with that, as long as you agree to listen to me if I say 'no' or 'not now', okay?"
"Aww, you mean I can't wait until you get home, exhausted from classes, and then pounce on you, and sweetly take the excess blood from you so you can get some actual rest? All while petting your head and telling you how good a job you did, of course."
>That sounded sweet
>You know, once you got past the blood sucker idea
>Your face starts to get red as you think of it in detail
>Especially where it could go after that if she doesn't knock you out from blood loss
>She notices immediately, adopting a sly and playful smile
>She leans over to the side of your head, and nibbles on your ear with her other, non-fang teeth
>In between the small nibbles that are driving you crazy, she whispers into your ear
"So is that a yes?"
>You go full spaghetti at this
>Face bright red, breathing faster than normal, and maybe a shudder or two
>You manage to get a few words out in your stupor
>"I...um, I no know…”
>And she bursts into laughter
>Luckily she was in the motion of pulling away from your ear as she started laughing, so no tinnitus today, haha!
>But she got to you really quick
"Oh, you're so fun to toy with, I'm going to like it here with you...?"
>You take a few seconds, but finally catch her meaning
>"Anon. And do you even have a name yet?"
"Nope, that's your job."
>You look her over again
>You think about it for a few seconds, but you know exactly the right name
>"How about Selene?"
>She ponders the name for a few seconds
"I like it, where'd you come up with it?"

>You turn your chair to your computer and do a quick google search for Kate Beckinsdale's character from the Underworld series and show the results to her
"Well damn, I'll give you credit for that one, couldn't be much more accurate. So I'm Selene then."
>"Welcome to the family then, Selene."
“Thanks, blood bag.”
>”Wait, what?”
“I’m kidding! But don’t get too upset if I accidentally call you that, it might happen a lot.”
>”Great, just what I needed. Might as well just call me ‘food’. Either way, I’m glad that we could finally reach an agreement over how you eat.”
"Thanks, I think we can make this work well enough despite my problems."
>"You mean there's more than just the fact that my rifle can't possibly be this bloodthirsty?"
"Yeah, but it might just be best for you to find out along the way."
>You both share a few moments of silence looking at each other, past each other, around each other until you finally break the silence
>"So earlier, what did you mean by, "I didn't let you come out?"
"Do you really know nothing about Vampirgewehre?"
>You shake your head no
>"This is the first I've heard of them."
>She sighs heavily
"Okay, so you know your standard vampire story, right?"
>"Yes."
"A lot of that actually was included in the curse on us, so there's some stipulations to us being around. I couldn't show myself to you and had to cut you in rifle form because you didn't do the equivalent of inviting a Vampire into your home."
>"But I did say that this was your new home the day I brought you back."
"No you didn't, you only told me to put the juice back and to let you know when it's gone. Oh by the way, we're out, I drank the last of it a few minutes ago. Either way, the Vampirgewehr version of inviting a Vampire into your home is to invite us to show ourselves in front of you."
>"So you could run around and do things when I wasn't watching, but not when I was around?"

>You move to get up and remember that Selene is sitting on your lap
>You try to lift her away from you, but she grabs on and makes a mad dash to your throat with her fangs
>You manage to grab the back of her neck before she gets there and she reverts to gun form
>Learning this trick and other Waffegeist care tips from Fred and Mallory were some of the best decisions of your life
>Rifle in hand, you head towards the screaming
>You decide to pull out a pocket knife in case there's someone in your house somehow and open the bathroom door as Selene isn’t loaded right now
>Inside you see another girl, the source of the screaming, who is wearing traditional Red Army attire, but with your ushanka on her head, covering the top of a full head of long, black, silky hair; which was tousled around her face, almost assuredly from her struggle to get out
>Slender figure, she looks to be maybe a few years older than Selene
>The girl is bound hands and feet, and she looks at you when you come in
>She screams something at you when you look back at her, but you can't make it out from the rag used to gag her
>You approach her, but she continues her muffled screaming and backs away from you
>Her eyes are ones of hatred and rage
>But eventually you realize that she's not looking at you, but Selene
>You place the RPR down outside the bathroom leaning against the wall, and go back in
>Right as you close the door, you hear the rifle outside slamming into the doors
>Somehow managing to hold the door shut, you end up locking it, keeping this between you and Katya
>She's calmed down since you’ve closed the door
>You walk over to her and undo her bindings
>She throws her arms around you, crying into your shoulder
>You're not sure what to do here, but you need to establish one thing
>"Can you understand me at all?"
*Da, I understand you just fine, I'm sorry, I won't let that bitch hurt you again!*


>"What? You mean Selene? She didn't hurt me that bad."
*I woke up to a woman's voice last night, and I thought you'd brought someone home with you, but when I looked over and saw the blood on your sheets, I thought to protect you. But she was very quick and managed to tie me up in here before I could react.*
>"It's fine, she didn't hurt me that badly."
*It is not fine! I failed to protect you, it is my job! Don't worry, I will be better the next time she tries to attack you.*
>"Alright, if you insist, but you two really need to--"
>At that moment, Selene bursts through the other door to your bathroom
>In your haste, you forgot that the other door to your bathroom is connected to your bedroom, which you didn't lock
>Fuck
>You place yourself between the Vampirgewehr and the Waffegeist in an attempt to diffuse the situation
>However, Katya grabs your arms and moves you into the shower, pulling the curtain in front of you
*Master, please stay in there until I can put her in her place, okay?*
"Put me in my place? HA! Who was tied up there in the corner for the past seven hours?"
*You will not hurt him anymore!*
"Who's to say that he didn't like it in the first place? I'll do what I want with him!"
>It's still too early for this as far as you're concerned
>They're distracted, so you tilt the showerhead towards them
>If there's one thing good about this apartment, over anything else, it's that the water sources have tremendous water pressure
>Lining up the shot for another second, you notice that they lunge towards each other and in that moment you strike
>You turn on the shower with the water at its coldest setting
>The two rifles shriek at the new cold assault on their bodies and turn to you, their glares cold enough to freeze the water that's hitting them
>"If you all are done here, why don't you two get dried off, and clean the water up in the bathroom together? Without fighting! And then go sit on the bed so I can talk to you both, alright?"


>You turn off the water and carefully step past the glaring rifles on your way out of the bathroom
>It wasn't that bad of a mess, you reflect to yourself, at least the floor is tile
>You move over to the kitchen and open the fridge
>As you do so, you look at the clock on the stove
>"8:33am; new record for earliest time drinking."
>You pull out a Goose Island 312 Urban Wheat Ale and drink most of it standing there at the fridge
>You contemplate having another one until you realize that you told Selene that you would go to the gun store today
>Can't get drunk before the day has even started, that would be bad
>Then again, can you even afford an optic for Selene?
>You pull out your phone and check your online banking
>Fuck, this past Friday wasn't a pay day
>You realize that there would be no way that you could possibly afford a good enough optic and mounts for her until you get paid again
>In fact, after a quick look through the fridge and cabinets, you realize that eating is going to be an interesting challenge this week too
>Especially if Selene gets hungry for you again
>You don't really want to tell them that you can't afford to eat with them, but you realize that there's no way around it
>You finish your bottle of beer and wait until you hear the door between your bathroom and bedroom shut
>After throwing it away, you walk to your room and open the door
>And find both girls sitting on your bed…
>…Absolutely naked
>You quickly overreact and slam the door shut as they're about to say something
>You take a minute or so to finish burning those images into your mind
>Eventually, you get coherent thought back, and say through the door;
>"If you two could just go through my closet and at least get a shirt on, then I'll come in and we can talk"
*A-are we not attractive enough for you?* Katya asks in a sad tone
>Shit
>"No, that's not what I mean, I mean that I'll be too distracted looking at you two to think or talk, you understand, right?"


>A few seconds go by in silence
"Yeah, we understand, just give us a few seconds. Although I can't say I wouldn't enjoy being stared at by you."
>After about a minute, you try again
>"You ready?"
"We're ready!"
>You open the door and move into your bedroom
>To be honest, you're not sure why you expected anything different
>They followed your instructions to the letter and are wearing only shirts
>The two rifles are sitting on your bed, giving each other some distance, both of them wearing one of your patterned long-sleeve button-down shirts
>Katya wearing the grey one with black lines
>Selene wearing the black one with orange and black lines
>Katya has hers buttoned up to her ample chest, the rest folded out to try to show off
>Selene went further with hers though
>She only buttoned the bottom button to cover up her crotch, and then strategically lined up the rest of the shirt to barely cover her nipples
>"Well, I guess that works. So should we start somewhere specific?"
"What do you mean?"
*He means he wants to know more about us, you dumb bloodsucker.*
"Watch your mouth, you old hag, or I'll tie you up again!"
*Fat chance of that, I'll be ready this time.*
"Right, because you weren't ready when you attacked me the first time."
*Want to find out how ready I am right now?*
"Bring it on hag!"
>"Girls, that's enough!"
>Your sudden outburst brings them out of their fight
>You sigh heavily before speaking again
>"Alright, can we please, have a civil conversation where you two don't try to attack each other or fight over me?"
>They glare at each other before nodding
>"Good. Now, I know I gave you two names, but if you'd rather be called something else, speak now or forever hold your peace."
>Selene has no problem with the name you picked for her if earlier at the computer was any indication, but you figured it would be safe to ask
>Katya, however, is a wild card, you don't know what goes on in her mind yet


*I know you named me Katya, according to Selene, but until she told me that, I thought you were referring to someone on your computer. If you don't mind, can I be called by my original name?*
>"Which is?"
*Lucya*
>"Sure thing, Kat- I mean, Lucya."
*Yay! Thank you! Just one more request, can I keep your Ushanka?*
>"But, it's my hat."
*I know, but it fits very nicely and is quite warm. I also like the idea of wearing your clothes.*
>Selene rolls her eyes
>You’ve never had a girl want to wear your clothes before
>Your relationships have never lasted more than half a year, and even then, there were reasons they didn’t last longer
>So you’re not sure how to respond to her
>But you love how Lucya looks in the hat
>And you like seeing her happy
>"Sure, as long as I don't need it at the range or when it snows."
>She looks very excited
*Thank you, master!*
>"Master?"
"Master?"
>Apparently, you and Selene had the same thought at the same time
*Yes, master! I am your rifle and you are my master, that's how this works right?*
>"Who told you that?"
*Oh, some of the other rifles in the gun store you bought me from told me that the new way of owner-‘geist relationships was that the rifle was servant to the owner.*
>You remember back to when you bought her


>The store you bought her from was the gun store with the best selection around when it came to newer guns
>When it came to older guns though, well, it was probably the last place you'd figure to find a 91/30 Nagant
>AR's all around, only the newest of polymer pistols and 1911 clones
>But when you were about to leave, you found the small display stand by the door
>A lone 91/30 was standing on the rack
>It wasn't the best condition, but after being on a Romanian potato farming forum's weapon board for a few years, you've drank the Kool-Aid and you had to have it
>Not that you'd ever let Lucya in on that secret
>When you brought up the idea of buying the Nagant to the people working at the time, you were surprised by the response
>They had forgot that they still had her
>They cut you a deal despite being a college kid and you walked out with her that day
>You also put in 40 rounds of ammo and immediately went to the outdoor range
>Since it had been a while since you've shot anything, you fucked up your shoulder pretty bad
>Instead of holding her in the soft part of your arm, you accidentally held her on your shoulder the entire time
>You put 20 rounds on a target at 50 yards, and the other 20 at 100 yards
>At the end of the day, you attached the bayonet that came with her
>You placed a target up at the pistol board that was mostly shot through and about 5 yards out
>Looked around, saw that you were the only one there
>You made sure of it
>And yelled as you charged the target with your bayonet-affixed rifle
>Even though you were the only one there, you could have sworn you heard a gasp and some slight sniffling
>Looking back on it, you figure that she was surprised you did that, and was tearfully remembering her service days
>When you got back to your apartment, you iced your shoulder for a bit
>In your excitement, you forgot to buy cleaning supplies that day


>You were lucky that the 91/30's had a cleaning rod in the design, so you used that and your glasses cleaning cloth to attempt to clean her
>There wasn't much success, but you felt like you did something at least
>You'd gone to bed a little while later
>You felt the slightest softness on your cheek before going into all on sleep
>Now you realize it must have been her
>About 2 weeks later, you got a proper cleaning kit and spent an hour and a half making up for your mistake when you got her
>-Speaking of her...-
>Apparently, the two rifles had a short attention span
>Because you are pulled out of your memories by the sound of skin on skin
>You snap out of your daydreaming to find Katya leaning forward aggressively with her hand in the air and Selene looking utterly shocked
>"What just happened? I zoned out."
*This bitch just insinuated that I was played by the other rifles in the store as a part of a prank. I tell her that I would have seen past it if it was false information. She doesn't believe me, and insults me again, so I slapped her!*
"But you were played by them, think of it, they're new, factory standard, and overpriced. To them, you're their greatest competition because you actually look interesting in comparison."
*Lies! They said that if I acted this way, that I wouldn't offend my owner and get resold immediately!*
"They couldn't have cared less about you, you were played. They were banking that you wouldn't get sold, but they didn't take into account some random, slightly autistic, blood-bag college student coming in and going full turbo autism about a rifle he saw."
>You smile in pride for a second and then realize what got said
>"Hey wait a minute, I don't actually have autism."
>Selene gives you the 'I don't fucking believe you' look
"Riiiiiiight, either way, your 'friends' in the store lied to you, just call him Anon like I do."
*But didn’t you just call him Bloodbag?*
>Selene went motionless and started blushing


“Because that’s the name I wanted to give him after I started drinking from him*
*Oh, um, okay. I'll make sure to call you Anon.*
>"That's it? No anger, no wishing vengeance upon them?"
*Nyet, I know that they may be laughing at me to this day, but I can be happy in the knowledge that they're probably going to end up with mediocre owners or in a safe for most of their life, I'm fine.*
>"Okay, remind me to never get on your bad side."
*It is okay, you would be hard pressed to do that.*
>Selene gives her a glare again that goes unnoticed by Lucya
>You feel a little uncomfortable after a few seconds of being stared at this fiercely
>Maybe you can bring this back to some semblance of normality
>You sit down on the floor in front of the two of them and look up at them because you know what you're about to tell them isn't what they want to hear
>"Alright, so let's go over a few things that need to be said. So we all know where we stand, given what Selene has told me about Vampirgewehre so far and what I know about Waffengeist from other people I know, I don't think I need much explained."
>They nod at you, glad that you know more than your standard gun owner
>"So I know that you don't need to eat food. This unfortunately means that I'm going to have to ask that you ration yourselves on when you eat."
>"Also, since you're here all day while I'm at classes, I ask that you don't drive up the cost of bills too high. Basically don't play games on my computer all day long. Although, I'm not sure what else there is to do."
>You don't have hardly any books or anything really to do outside of your computer, so it puts you in sort of a bind when it comes to entertaining them
>"I'm living off of what I've got left from the internship I had last summer and a low paying on-campus job, so as much as I'd like to eat dinner with you two every night and let you have full reign over my computer, I can't afford it, I'm sorry."


>You're hanging your head pretty low at this point
>You hadn't thought it would feel this way before saying it, but you just felt horrible
>These girls that have come into your life, and have expectations of you as their provider
>And you can't provide for them
>What kind of gun owner are you if you can't even care for your guns in whatever form they may be in?
>A hand reaches down and lifts your chin up
>Selene is looking you in the eyes with the softest smile you didn't know she was capable of
"Hey, it's fine. I understand you've got some time left before you can actually provide for us. All I ask is that you don't sell us and we'll be fine, right Lucya?"
*Right. Anon, you may not realize it, but I made you look at me in the store. There was a little voice in your head that told you to look my way. It was me. I knew what I was getting into when you hesitated at my price tag, but I looked at you and saw someone that I wanted to protect as a rifle. We know that you'll do what you can for us, no matter what.*
>You sniffle a little bit at their touching display
>"Thanks girls, I'm glad you understand what's going on. Again, I'm sorry."
>Lucya reaches both hands down towards you
>You take her hands
>She pulls you up to standing with surprising strength, and wraps her arms around you in a large bear hug
>She's softer than any rifle has any right to be
>But it feels so good to be held by someone who cares about you
>You notice that she's a little taller than both you and Selene, somewhere around 6'1"
>She lets go of you and you get turned around to be hugged by Selene, who is standing on her toes
>She rests her head on your shoulder
>"I'm sorry."
"About what?"
>"I know I said I would get you an optic, but I don't think I can afford one until Black Friday sales, which are in another few weeks."
"So no gun store today?"
>"I don't think so."
She clears her throat
"Well, in that case, you won't mind if I- yiii!"


>She doesn't get to finish her statement before Lucya has grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head, with open mouth, away from your throat
*Stop trying to kill him!*
>You let go of Selene’s body so she can regain control of her head
>"Lucya, I know you want to protect me from her, but I have to let her drink my blood every so often as to keep her bloodlust under control. You don't want to wake up one day and find me exsanguinated because I wasn't helping her keep it in check, right?"
*I suppose.*
>Lucya still looks unconvinced about it all
*Just let me know when she feeds so that I can be there to make sure you're safe, okay?*
>"Is that alright with you Selene?"
>Selene fidgets on the spot, holding her right arm with her left hand
"But... drinking the blood of our owner is a very intimate thing for Ruger weapons to do, holding the life of our owner in our mouth. If she was to watch it happen, then it would be like if she watched us having sex."
>--Oh shit, wrong word choice there Selene--
*YOU TWO HAD SEX ALREADY?!*
>You turn around to find an almost vibrating Lucya with a look of pure rage on her face
>"No, we did not, she is just using that as an analogy to say that she doesn't want you watching her feed off of me."
*I can't allow that, I need to be there to make sure you'll be okay! I'm your rifle, I'm supposed to protect you!*
>Selene turns to be face-to-face with Lucya
"You do realize that I'm a rifle too, right? I may not have such a meaningful story of how I came into his possession, but I too have the desire to do what I was made for; protecting him. This includes from even myself."
*But you almost sucked him dry last night! He lost so much blood because of you!*
>Selene sighs and moves to look at you and Lucya


"So yes, I almost fucked up last night. I almost let you bleed out without noticing it. When you woke up and I greeted you, this also woke up Lucya. Lucya also saw me drinking your blood and then tried to stop me after you passed out again. We fought for a few seconds before I knocked her out with one of your textbooks and tied her up."
>Lucya rubs her head where you assume she was hit. You're surprised that Waffengeist even can feel mundane pain
"One of the positive sides of being a Vampirgewehr, is that we can also slow the rate of bleeding. We do this by injecting a special quick-acting mending solution that seals up any part that we drank from. So last night, I was drinking from your carotid, and before I could administer the full dose of serum, you'd passed out. I reinserted my fang to finish the dose, but by that point you'd lost quite a lot."
>"So what I'm hearing is that it's Lucya's fault that I lost so much blood because she stopped Selene from stopping me from bleeding."
*No, I was just trying to save you!*
>Selene smirks
>"But, on the other hand, Selene's the reason I'm probably going to have to get a new sheet, and the reason I have to come up with a story behind the bite mark."
>This time, Selene's smirk disappeared
"Oh come on, it's not that bad!"
>She looks at the sheet
"Okay, maybe it is."
>"And I'm sorry that I didn't let you both know that you could take these forms around me sooner."
>"So we're all at fault for something over the course of the last few hours. Why don't we try to just let that stay behind us, and move on to actually being a coherent unit?"
"I suppose, and I'm sorry about all that I've done this past week."
*I am sorry that I interrupted, and as long as you two don't have sex behind my back, I am okay with this.*
"Why? Is it because you want him to let you have se- mmmff"
>Lucya's face adopts a shade of red that could only be described as 'truly Soviet'


>She grabs Selene and shoves her face right in her well-endowed chest, holding it there
>Selene struggles at first, but after a few seconds, she has stopped resisting
>After Lucya’s face returned to its natural color, Lucya slid the hand on Selene's head down to her back
>However, Selene left her head right where it was
*Now you're not going to say anything out of line or outright wrong, are you?"
>Selene tried to shake her head, but to no great effect
*That's what I thought.*
>You chuckle at the situation, which causes Lucya to look over at you with a happy smile
>She extends her right arm in an inviting gesture
*Come here, Anon. You could use a hug after this past week.*
>Selene extends her left arm towards you as well and you decide to give into their wishes
>Selene finally extracts herself from her warm prison to make the hug more accessible
>You're enveloped by their arms finally
>Despite everything that occurred over the past week
>You feel safe


>And you feel that they care for you as Selene rests her head on your chest
>At the same time that Lucya pulls your head to her chest, she rests her head on top of yours
>This is all you could ask for
>You hold the embrace with your rifles for a few more minutes until you notice Selene has fallen asleep
>You chuckle and whisper:
>”Sleep tight, bloodsucker.”
>Lucya is slowly joining her in the land of sleep, but looks to be fighting it, making cute, fitful noises
>You lean up and whisper into Lucya's ear
>"Shhhh, just sleep, my guardian, you've earned it."
>She manages to mumble a little
*I’m sorry I tricked you to buy me.*
>You can tell that she’s already half asleep
>”I was going to buy you anyways once I saw you.”
>Lucya sleepily smiles
*I knew it.*
>”I thought you did. You’ve done a lot, I’ll be fine if you sleep for a while.”
*But…*
>”Shhhh, just go to sleep.”
>She finally listens to your words
>And falls asleep a few seconds later in your arms
>You wanted to sleep in the same bed as them, but you didn’t want to wake up to them fighting over you
>With both rifles asleep, you grab the back of their necks, turning them both into rifles again
>You place them both on your bed, with a little bit of space between the two
>And you cover them in one of your blankets
>"Sleep tight, girls."
>You're still tired from the ordeals of the past week
>Getting a little more sleep won't hurt
>You grab another blanket, and go to your living room
>You lay down on the couch, and cover up with the blanket, going to sleep; content for the first time in years