One: Trespassing poodle

(A/N: This blog is basically a graveyard for all my unfinished stories so here is more. This one from 2018 was up on Wattpad for a long time before I took it down. I may not want it on Wattpad anymore but I still love it too much to delete all of it. Previously called Color due to my lack of imagination. Hope it's as fun reading as it was writing.)

There was a poodle in his room.

Which made absolutely no sense since neither him nor his uncle owned a poodle or any other animal of any kind. But from the moment he'd spilled his uncle's homemade lasagna on the control panel of his portal, random animals had been teleporting into his room in the dead of the night for no apparent reason.

The only conclusion he could draw was that it was probably a bad idea to encourage his uncle to cook dinner at home. Considering the effects the lasagna had had on his bowel movements and the portal, that was probably a very good idea. The only good idea he'd had in days.

He still couldn't figure out a way to fix the damned portal without having to rebuild it from scratch. And with the Inventionation being in three days, he had no clue what he'd do if a komodo dragon teleported itself while he was giving his presentation at the convention.

The poodle was sniffing around his room probably looking for something to eat. He walked up to it and it gladly let him scratch its head.

“As far as I know, poodles aren't generally found in the wild. You must belong to someone.” he said addressing the dog. The poodle tilted its head bemused, then proceeded to lick his palm.

“Why don't you have a collar or a nametag? Where do you live, poodle?” he asked, then wondered why he'd never attempted to make an animal translator.

At his question the dog backed away from him, like it was suddenly self conscious at being called out for being a poodle.

“Nika! For the love of god, will you at least try and fix the fridge one more time?” his uncle begged, banging into the room.

Vlad Belikov was the kind of person you'd describe more in similarity to a freight train than a human. He roared when he laughed, which was quite often. He thundered up staircases and rumbled when he spoke. Even his whistling was a shriek more than a melody even if it was the tune of Twinkle twinkle little star!

He was big and loud but a very agreeable train as far as Nika was concerned. Besides, apart from his mother, Vlad was the only living family he had. The only sign that he'd once had a father. A father who had the same face as uncle Vlad except for his eyes.

His mother always said that the only thing it seemed he'd inherited from his father was his eyes. He had the same amber-green eyes and thick eyelashes as his father had once had.

But Nika had no way of actually confirming that fact. His father had disappeared when he was three, the only photos of his father were all products of old-school, black and white photography, his mother was not the most truthful person (the local politician was more honest a man, than his mother had ever been) and his Uncle Vlad had been born colorblind.

So to get an accurate testimony he'd have to meet the man himself. That he'd vowed would never happen.He'd calculated the probability of his chances of meeting his dad in person. After factoring in the fact that his father wouldn't recognize him and that he'd probably never come anywhere near his hometown for the fear of running into his family the probability came out to be about 0.27%.

“Why do you have a Pomeranian in your room?” Uncle Vlad was frowning down at them, making both of them shrink away by instinct.

“First of all, it's a poodle and I have no idea how it got in.” Nika lied. He avoided telling his family about the things he built. Not because they couldn't care less about him tinkering about, but because they'd care too much.

He believed that they'd somehow find a way to use him for their own benefits. Especially his mother. Uncle Vlad only made him fix the television and the refrigerator, which was as old as he was, once in a while.

His mother, on the other hand, would probably sell him to the local mechanic to pay away her insurmountable debts. Or maybe sell his inventions away. The thought always made him shudder. 

“And second of all, I cannot fix the fridge anymore. I've already taken it apart and reassembled it. It needs a lot of new parts or a professional electrician.” Nika added.

Uncle Vlad sighed in defeat. “Okay. I'll go call an electrician. And you hide the Pomeranian before Vasya comes home and decides to sell it.” kidding only about the coming home part.


It had cost him half of his life savings to book a slot for the Inventionation so he hoped he'd at least get a consolation prize for the portal.That would give him enough recognition and credit to apply for a scholarship at the University for a mechanical engineering course.

Or at least enough credibility to get a job at a Ultra mechanics store since with his level of formal education he only qualified for a job as a handyman’s assistant at the local garage.

The Inventionation was to start from tomorrow but all the exhibits were to be registered and set up a day before. And Nika had already lugged the portal across town to the convention centre without having to take it apart.

Nils, his employer at the garage, had provided the transportation for free. Now the only thing left was to find a way to hide the fact that he was at the convention instead of at work from his family.

The centre was further away from anywhere his mother would wander to and his Uncle worked somewhere in the opposite end of the town making the possibility of a run-in meagre. But they could still drop by the garage and find him missing.

Nils promised to cover for him but that would lead to too many questions and maybe the truth.

“What do I do? There is no way they'll not notice that I didn't come home for lunch three days in a row. They're bound to suspect that I'm not working at the garage when I leave earlier in the mornings than I usually do. I'm bound to fail at the convention even after putting in so much effort.” Nika rambled on, fretting and resentful.

Nils barked out a laugh. “Kosha you've got to stop this worrying thing you're doing. It makes me nervous. Like I'm committing a serious crime by supporting you.” he advised, smiling gently at Nika. This made Nika smile. And the ride back home had a tinge of excitement and happiness. A bit more than usual.

It all faded away when Nika got home to find the door ajar and his mother on the kitchen floor, half drunk, mad with rage and waiting for him.

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