Dionne jumped. "Who, what?"
"The dirty fool in my bathroom with my mother?"
"Is that how you talk around your mother?"
Andre stuttered. He was a big kid, but Dionne had put the fear of ass whoopin' in him at a young age. She taught him to respect her and all women. "No, ma'am. But if my mama's got a new boyfriend I should know about it."
Dionne faced off. "No, boy, if yo mama's got a boyfriend, only she needs to know about it. Yo mama's a grown ass woman. And for the record, she ain't got a boyfriend, this is just a... friend."
Andre scoffed. "Yeah right." He turned his back and went up the stairs at the end of the hall.
"Damn that boy." Dionne sighed. She walked to her computer, pressed the Wake button and sat down.
"This dude here said... what did he say he was? Gork.... Mork.... No, 'Ork', that's what it was." Dionne typed into Google 'ork' and searched. She went to the 'Ork (Folklore)' Wikipedia page. That didn't seem right. She went back to the main Wikipedia page and found a mention of J.R.R. Tolkien, 'orc'. "That seems better."
An orc or ork /ɔrk/ is a fictional humanoid creature that is part of a fantasy race
akin to goblins.
While the overall concept of orcs draws on a variety of pre-existing mythology,
the main conception of the creatures stems from the fantasy writings of J. R. R. Tolkien,
in particular The Lord of the Rings. In Tolkien's works, orcs are a brutish, aggressive,
repulsive and generally malevolent species, existing in stark contrast with the
benevolent Elvish race (from which their own ancestors may have been developed
and corrupted) and generally pressed into the service of an evil power. Tolkien's
concept of orcs has subsequently been adapted and imported into other works of
fantasy fiction as well as into fantasy role-playing and strategy games (such as
Dungeons & Dragons, Warhammer and Warcraft), broadening the recognition of
the creatures in popular culture.
Earlier references to creatures etymologically or conceptually similar to orcs can
be found in Old English and Anglo-Saxon sources (including Beowulf) and
16th-century Italian folk tales (in particular those of Giambattista Basile).
Dionne leaned in closer and read more about how orcs were developed as according to Tolkien. She seemed to remember watching Lord of the Rings out of the corner of her eye when Andre had some of the guys over at the end of the semester, but she was focused on something else, and the glimpse she caught of the orcs on screen did not resemble the man-thing in her shower.
A huge five fingered hand lay carefully, powerfully on her tank top free shoulder. The sweat of the night had slipped her skin of the cotton covering. His fingernails were dark brown, but clean and wide. Everything about him was wide.
Dionne's shoulder tensed at the feel of his calloused hand. She jumped and stood. His brown skinned, black haired naked body stood in the middle of her living room. He did not move quickly, rather stood back. Her body, despite itself reacted to his. She looked up into his face, which wasn't so different than her own, aside from the massive underbite and bottom canines protruding above his cheek bones. His eyes sunk beneath a heavy brow. His nose naturally flared open, but he didn't seem angry.
"What is this thing you were staring so intently into?" Crag asked.
"It's called a computer. I was looking you up."
"Looking me up? What does that mean?"
"You said you were an Orc. So I looked that up. I found some interesting things. According to Wikipedia, you are malevolent and related to Elves."
Crag grunted and looked angrily at the computer. "I will find this Wikipedia and kill him for his lies."
Dionne chuckled a little. "No, no. Wikipedia isn't a person... it's... nevermind. Anyway, the person who wrote, I guess, the book, J.R.R. Tolkien wrote about orcs. I don't think he meant any harm by these words though."
Crag nodded. "An honest mistake can be forgiven. We must find this Tolkien to see if he can provide an explanation on how I arrived in your world."
"I think he's dead."
"Then summon your necromancers, they have work to do."
"My what? We don't have 'necromancers'. Also, that sounds gross, so no."
"How can we expect to return me to my home?"
"I don't know, dude." Dionne sighed, allowing her eyes to wander the man-thing's.... "Oh, jeez, could you put on some clothes."
"I am drying off. I do not put on my garments until I am completely dry."
"Well, get a damn towel."
"Towel?"
"A cloth you wipe the wetness off of yourself with." Under her breath she said, "I could use one too actually."
Dionne stalked into the bathroom and pulled a white towel out of her closet and threw it at the man-thing. Really at his member, but who's counting. Dionne left him in the bathroom with the door closed.
Crag emerged, again wearing his clothes. He smelled clean, but his clothes still had a scent to them that Dionne found simultaneously repulsive and alluring. She tapped her feet as she looked him over. It had been a long while since her last boyfriend and she was getting itchy.
Dionne yawned. "Okay, I'm tired. I need to sleep. You can stay here tonight, but tomorrow I think you have to go. I don't know if I can handle you and whatever you bring with you."
Crag nodded. "I understand. Tonight I will sleep, tomorrow I will leave."
Dionne nodded. "Good. Good night."
"May the God of Dreams guide you safely through his realm."
"You too dude."
Dionne walked upstairs to her room. She heard Andre grumbling about 'his mother' this and 'his mother' that, but she let it go. Since Andre and Niya's father passed, there were flings, but nothing worth more than the occasional 11pm phone call.
Something was different about this, man-thing, that she hadn't even bothered to ask the name of yet. "What kind of name does an Orc have?" she asked herself under her breath.
"Crag." The rumbling voice of the Orc echoed through the darkness of her bedroom.
"What are you doing in here?" Dionne asked defensively.
"Apparently wondering the same thing about you as you were about me. "What is your name?"
"Dionne. Now get out."
Crag stepped forward into the room and closed the door behind him. The towel hung conspicuously over his member. He watched her breasts heaving beneath her shoulder slipped tank top. "Is that really what you want?"
"Yes," Dionne said. "Get out before I scream."
"You won't scream," Crag said. "Not for me to leave, anyway." He stepped forward. "I have never mated with a Human before."
"And you still won't. Get out of my room."
"I saw you staring at my short axe when I stood naked in your rooms. I felt your hunger for it. I feel surprising hunger for your body as well."
Crag dropped his towel to reveal his 'short axe' extended further than she had ever seen a man extend. Dionne did hunger for it, but she barely even knew him. This situation was so insane and confusing, she couldn't. Not like this.
"No." Dionne said this with finality. She pointed at the towel, not wanting to get in arms length of him. "Go back downstairs, Crag. This will not happen."
Crag nodded. "On my honor, I have never mated a female against her will."
He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.