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cryptidsofwakemoor · 3 days

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Chapter 10 - Paranoia

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that."

~*~

Mystic

Tikki works on her own omelet in comfortable silence, letting her guest relax by the fire while she filled her own egg patty with her additions of choice. Once her folded egg taco was on the plate, she drizzled some kind of red liquid over top of it, and took up those metal tools he could never quite understand the purpose of. Lifting her plate, she goes to sit at the couch, and- uses the tiny knife and spoked thing to poke and cut her omelet, eating it off the utensils.

Oh. That’s what they were for. She didn’t need to get food on her hands at all.

…

“Have you been on the streets your whole life?” Tikki asks, quiet.

Spooky

He looks up from watching her cut the omelet and poke it with the pronged thing, before frowning a little and shaking his head no.

No, being on the streets was a relatively new thing for him. In a way, he had kind of lucked out that adaptability was part of his training, otherwise he may not've survived very long, but... This probably wasn't what they had in mind while training him. It was more for use in battle.

He glances down at the floor in front of him, wishing he still had the snow and stick to help him explain things. The best thing he could do for now, though, was try and sum up everything he could into one word, and force it out of his uncooperative throat.

"L.. ll- laa... b," he rasps, looking back at her.

Mystic

Tikki, who had been mid-bite of her own omelet, chokes on the piece of food. She has to pound on her chest for a second before the food is dislodged, and she can breathe again.

In just one word, that was- quite a bit of information to swallow. Just like her omelet.

"I'm- hkf- sorry," Tikki apologizes, rubbing at her throat for a moment. "You- wh- but- how-? You came from a lab? Excuse me? As in- wait-"

She frowns, staring into space. He can see it in her eyes- she was putting together a lot of puzzle pieces. She sets aside the plate, losing her appetite in this moment.

"...that- suddenly a lot of things make sense. But- why were you in a lab?"

Spooky

He looked alarmed when she choked on her food, but once she'd dealt with that enough to ask him more questions, he ducked his head slightly and slid his hand over the nape of his neck. He gave a small shrug, mainly because he didn't know how he'd got there. He couldn't really remember being anywhere else, leading him to think that maybe he was born there…? Though there were some things he could just barely recall that seemed to contradict that.

He knew what trees were, before he’d even escaped. They'd never let him outside, not once, but he could picture outside, sometimes in dreams... And there were other things, too. Faded voices and shapes, and strong emotions attached that left him feeling lost, scared, and like he'd been hollowed out whenever he thought about it too hard.

So usually, he didn't.

All he had for an answer as to why he was there was what they were developing him for.

"...w... wepn," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and looking back at the burning fireplace.

Mystic

...There's a long pause.

Even though he wasn't facing her, he could feel her eyes boring into him. Analyzing.

Behind his back, the scales on the back of Tikki's arm start to stand on end. She clasps at her forearms with her hands, clenching her jaw as she wills the beast back into the depths, forcing the scales back down.

The thought, and all the implications it carried, made her so, so angry. But she just got back to normal from a shift- if she let it happen again so soon, it would exhaust her. She'd be so depleted of energy that she wouldn't want to move for a week, and she wasn't in a position to let that happen anymore.

"...Okay," she says, finally. A brief, forceful exhale as she quells her outrage for his sake. "I see why you ran away, now."

Tikki puts her chin in one hand, thinking. Then her eyes flick to the door. Then back to him in worry.

"...Am I gonna get in trouble with the law or something if someone finds out you're in my house? Are YOU in trouble with whoever you ran from?"

Not that she was particularly bothered by the idea of someone reprehensible showing up at the door. She'd welcome the opportunity to feed someone a knuckle sandwich and have it be sweet justice. But not at the cost of somebody else being put in danger.

Spooky

Feeling her staring, he glanced back at her, worried he'd made her angry at him. He could sense the tension, and his eyes turned downwards as he fidgeted with his hands.

Her questions didn't assuage his nerves any, either... because he had, if only for a brief time due to the distractions and curious things in this house, forgotten he was being hunted.

He was hesitant to answer, worried that confirming this fact would get him thrown out. Tikki was nice, but to get involved in anything like this seemed like too much to ask of anyone.

He didn't know what this 'law' was, but he knew the Aria Corporation was big, and they had a lot of resources. Hell, their damn logo still haunted him whenever he sneaked into town, never truly letting him forget that he wasn't safe.

...It wasn't fair not to tell her, though. To not at least try and warn her about what she was getting into if she let him stay in her home.

Looking conflicted, he finally nodded. Setting aside his disc, he reached down and tried to trace a shape on the rug with his finger, but it wasn't very clear.

Mystic

A long, sad sigh.

"...ok. I figured."

Tikki glances at the rug, leaning to see what he was drawing- but she couldn't make anything out from here. Hm. Maybe he was just doodling from the stress. She did sorta put him on the spot, all of the sudden.

"...well, I'm not going to just let you freeze to death in the snow," she says, frowning. "And whoever uses a kid test subject for scientific experiments is super fucked up, I'll tell you that."

Standing up from the couch, she moves to sit on the rug next to him, scooting a bit closer so she's near enough for expression of comfort, but just at the edge of his personal space. She looks down at the carpet as she talks, idly trying to decipher his finger-drawing on the floor.

"I don't have much to offer, Sticks. I do have a roof, and food, sometimes. I don't make a lot of money, and I'm dealing with my own demons- but I'd still like to help you, somehow. If you want it?"

Spooky

He doesn't seem able to get the tracing of his finger across, so he stops. The best that could be deciphered from it was that he seemed to be writing an 'A' for part of it. If he was trying to make a word, though, the rest of the scrawl was incomprehensible. There didn't seem to be any other letters, and even the A was kind of questionable.

He looked unsure at her offer, not because he was keen on turning his figurative nose up at it though. Moreso, he was worried. She already had stress from turning into the silver beast, and didn't have much money, and... he didn't know what 'demons' were, but that didn't sound good either.

...

But at the same time, he didn't wanna go back to taking his chances in that hole in the ground. Not after he knew what being in a warm house on a soft rug, with not one but TWO blankets was like.

His eyes searched her expression. She really did seem to want to help...

He hugged his pillow close and gave a little nod, before resting his chin on it.

Mystic

He feels more than sees her hand clasp onto his shoulder, squeezing once in reassurance before letting go.

"Okay," she says, offering him a little smile. "I'll do what I can."

Tikki leans back to the couch again, and takes her plate with the half-eaten omelet. She sets it on the carpet and slides it over to him, letting it rest by his knee.

"Here- you can have the rest of mine. I wasn't very hungry, anyway."

A lie. Shifting consumed a lot of calories she had to replenish, which she had every intention of doing so later when he was asleep or something. But right now, she lost her appetite. At least this way the food wouldn't go to waste.

Tikki stands up, stretching her shoulders and wiggling her webbed toes.

"I don't know a lot about you, and that's fine- you don't have to share what you don't want to." Tikki scratches behind her head, starting back towards the kitchen to start cleaning. "Just let me know how I can best help you, alright?"

Spooky

He looked from the offered omelet half to her, before he picked it up with his hand and stuffed it in his mouth, licking the remaining red sauce off his fingers. This had a different taste than his, but was still good!

He didn't seem as keen to get up, covered in fluffy blankets as he was. While he wasn't full, his stomach was no longer empty, and going from being outside in the snow with almost no clothes for most of the day to taking a hot bath and sitting all bundled up next to a roaring fireplace... Sleepiness was definitely setting in, and his eyelids drooped.

He nodded in response to her, rubbing at one of his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Th... thanks," he said, straining to try and be louder since she had walked back to the kitchen. Oof, probably wasn't the best idea. Fuck, he wished he could figure out how to fix his broken voice. It'd been a long time since he'd heard what it sounds like normally, but he knew it wasn't supposed to sound like this.

Mystic

Tikki glances back in his direction at the sound of the voice crack. Ouch. That sounded very unpleasant. Did speaking cause him pain? Maybe his throat was damaged from... whatever happened to him in the 'lab'.

She tried not to think about it. He wasn't there, now.

"It's no trouble," she says, offering another smile as she removes the pan to wash it. "Nobody should have to live on the street- especially not kids."

In the background, Tikki quietly goes about making some hot apple cider. It was just a cheap packet mix, but it was easy, and fast. The water boils gently on the stove while she cleans up the containers of omelet fillings, and puts away all the washed dishes once she'd dried them with a kitchen towel.

She is left to ponder in silence for a while. He'd never seen silverware, didn't know how to feed or take care of himself. Laboratories that tested on humans- at least, he might be human, she really wasn't sure- evidently still existed, and were doing shady shit like turning children into weapons. That was the most she could ascertain from his broken speech and limited information. Whoever was responsible, they were probably out looking for this kid. And if she was caught with him in custody, if she was lucky, she'd be left alone- but he would no doubt be taken back to whatever hell he endured.

She had seen the rocky injuries all over his back. She couldn't begin to comprehend what would cause that. It looked a little better after he was able to bathe, but there was still a substantial amount of rock crust covering his spine. She was hesitant to touch it, or ask about it in case it was sensitive.

Steam hisses from the kettle, and she turns off the stove burner. Water is poured into mugs, and Tikki shakes out the cider mix into the mugs, pouring honey into both. Stirring them with spoons, she walks back out into the living room to check on him.

"I've got hot cider, for your throat," she says, rounding the couch.

Spooky

He looked like he'd gone into almost a kind of sleepy trance, watching the flames dance on the logs...

But he perked back up a little when Tikki returned with- Oh! He'd seen these before, sometimes he would see people at the lab walking or standing around with these little handled cylinders in their hands, usually in the hallways when he was being transported to another area. He never knew what was in them, but they had a nice smell...

These smelled good too, but in a different way. When Tikki handed one over to him, he took it and held it in both hands, peering down at the unfamiliar drink. Unsure how to proceed, he dipped his tongue into it to give it a taste.

Mystic

The immediate taste was sweet, with a hint of spice that wasn't quite the same as the red thing he ate earlier. What did Tikki call it? 'Pepper'? This was different. It was hot, though, and the little bit he managed to swallow off his own tongue actually soothed his aching throat a little, more than water had up until this point.

Tikki, seeing this, chuckles into her own mug that she had just lifted to her face.

"Okay, that was pretty cute," she says, snickering. "And you have a lava tongue?? Weird, and cool. But yeah- you drink it like this."

Tikki demonstrates, holding the mug in her hands up to her chin and tipping it back a little, taking a gulp of the liquid inside before tipping it back down, swallowing with a satisfied exhale.

"It has honey in it, which is a natural remedy for throat problems," she explains, sipping more of her own drink before continuing. "I've had to use it before when shifting damaged my voice for a day or two. Should help, I think. And if it gets too cold, you can always reheat it."

Spooky

He flushed with a faint glow at her comments, but did his best to mimic the demonstration, slowly tipping and attempting a sip with a noisy slurp.

...Holy shit! A way to drink without getting it all over himself! He looked down at the mug with big eyes full of wonder. This was awesome!

He was quick to drink the rest of it down, steam spilling from his mouth when he lowered the mug and exhaled afterwards. The honey coated his throat, making it feel less sore after his attempts to talk. His glowing tongue poked out again, licking his lips.

Mystic

Another chuckle from Tikki.

"I mean this in the best way- you're like a big puppy," she jokes, watching the steam puff up towards her ceiling. "A lanky, fire-breathing puppy."

Sipping her cider, she sighs, getting up from the carpet one last time.

"You look ready to pass out, so I'm going to let you rest. You can use the couch, or stay on the carpet, whatever you feel like- sleep well, Sticks."

And with that, she walks off to the rest of her house, presumably to wind down for the rest of her afternoon. It wasn't far past midday, but she'd had an exhausting morning, and she figured he did as well.

Spooky

His expression briefly turned to confusion as he tried to figure out what a puppy was, but he shrugged it off, setting down the now empty mug. He was very sleepy, and probably would've been content to just sleep next to the fireplace, though without anything to prop him up he kept slowly listing to the side until he'd jerk back upright with a start.

He let out a tired grumble and crawled like a blankety slug across the floor until he was at the couch, where he leaned back against the side of it. It was definitely softer than the dirt had been, and the blankets added extra cushioning. Hugging the pillow close, he curled up and rested his head on it, so cozy that he drifted off in no time.

...

"You really thought you could just leave... Didn't you?"

His eyes shot open at the familiar cold voice of the ponytailed man, Dr. Rainer... but he didn't see him anywhere when he looked around the living room. It was nighttime now and the fireplace had gone out, bathing the room in darkness, and any warmth seemed to have been sucked out of the house along with it.

Then, a red dot appeared in the window. Followed by another, then another, and they continued to multiply until they were peering in through every window, swarming, a buzzing sound reverberating off the walls and leaving him rattled. Drones.

With a smash of glass they set upon him, giving him barely even any time to stand before they were already on him, a writhing mass of buzzing motors and claw arms, reaching and scratching and grabbing. He managed to fight back, blasting them with fire and setting his fists crunching into metal when they got too close, but there were always more to take their place.

"No matter where you scurry off to, you can never truly abandon your purpose. You know that, don't you?"

Metal parts crunched underfoot as he continued to doggedly fight against a neverending onslaught, pouring in through the windows like wasps from a nest.

Suddenly, another piercing pain lanced through the back of his neck, near the base of his skull, his vision blurring and going white for a few moments as he was brought to his hands and knees.

When he opened his eyes again, the drones were gone, and the room was quiet... But as he remained there, trying to catch his breath, he realized something very quickly. He couldn't move.

"Stand."

To his dawning horror, he stood up. Without trying to. His body was moving without his input. His eyes wouldn't even budge when he tried to look around.

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that. Now... Destroy."

NO!

It was too late. Fire sparked and climbed up his limbs, engulfing his body in flames that started to catch on the floor around him. He raised his arms and sent blasts of fireballs careening around him, smashing walls and furniture, anything not annihilated on impact would perish in the blaze... The walls buckled in the inferno. Chunks of ceiling fell. This house was done for, and everyone in it, including Tikki.

And as he distantly heard her screams, he felt...

nothing.

-!!!

Heart hammering in his chest, his eyes opened for real this time and he sat bolt upright with a gasp, prompting a coughing fit. Smoke spiraling out of his mouth, he tried to catch his breath and regain his bearings.

Mystic

The house is quiet. Besides his panting breaths and his heart trying to decide if it wanted to break his ribcage and escape, there was no sound beyond the distant hum of the heater in the walls. The fire- which appeared to have had an extra log placed on it at some point- had burned low until all that was left were charred husks, and a pile of glowing embers. It produced only a faint pop and hiss, along with the lightest aura of remaining warmth.

The house is dark. Just like in his nightmare- but there's no voice to taunt him in the shadows. The windows, which had been an open view out into the world, were covered by thick drawn curtains. Nothing could see inside, not even the searching cameras of the drones he knew were looking for him out in the city. No light is leaking past the borders of those curtains, either. He'd passed out somewhere around noon. Had he slept so long that it was nighttime?

The house is empty. Tikki is nowhere to be seen. A door at the far end of the corridor across the living room is shut. Perhaps she was there, or perhaps she left.

A hand flies quickly to the back of his neck-

-and he feels nothing. No robotic devices, no grasping claw-like limbs, no collar, and no needle stabbing into his skin. All that he finds is... the pre-existing injection site, that had long since healed over.

He was alone with his blankets and his pillow, a dying fire in the fireplace, and the lingering terror of the nightmare.

Spooky

Despite the realization that it had been a bad dream, and that there were no threats in sight, he still felt almost afraid to move for a while. He pulled the blankets up around him like it was a barrier, camouflage to hide him from whatever lurked through his imagination.

Still, he couldn't go back to sleep. Not without making sure everything was okay... So holding the pillow and clutching one of the blankets around him, he got up and checked the perimeter, wandering through the living room and down the hall, peeking in through the doors just to be safe.

Mystic

…So far, everything seemed to be clear.

The kitchen still smelled like the food Tikki made earlier - ‘om-lets’, or something. The burners in the stove were off, and all the dishes had been cleaned and returned to their rightful places.

The living room was the same. The book he picked up still sat haphazardly on the stack when he set it aside. The fire was still dying, the firewood stack neatly piled.

The windows were unshattered; no glass or broken drones littered the floor from his imagined combat. Peeking beyond the curtains showed a gentle fall of snow from the sky, and a dark, starless night filled with clouds.

…

Paying close attention to the house let him notice a few things. The scratches from the driveway were present here, too- they had been spackled and repaired wherever possible, but the signs of wear persisted. Wooden furniture was bent or scored in places, as if something big had clumsily scraped by it. These must be the signs of whenever Tikki transforms against her will, identical to what he found outside. This was a small abode to contain the oversized- whatever it is she turns into.

The door at the end of the hall has the most prominent damage, where the frame is buckled up and outward in a couple places, and the hinges had been repaired multiple times.

What did she say again? ’Shifting outside sucks because she can’t fit through the door,’ or something.

…There’s a faint buzzing sound coming from the door. She was probably asleep, oblivious to his nighttime panic.

Spooky

The sound was sort of like the breathing noises she made while asleep as the silver beast, but smaller... It wasn't like the buzz of drones, this was far less harsh and only happened at intervals instead of continuously. Still, just in case, he listened for a bit, before gathering up the nerve to open the door just a crack and peek inside.

Mystic

The inside of Tikki’s room was also dark, all lights in the room turned off save for a single lamp in the shape of a spiny fish plugged into a wall socket. There were more plants in hanging pots, some with flowers that wafted a sweet scent. A fan overhead spun in a slow circle. Against one wall was a tank full of water, plants, pebbles, and several small fish that flitted about once the light from his eyes was upon them. A filter hummed quietly on the tank, the only other notable sound in the room.

On the bed was Tikki, fast asleep. She was haphazardly wrapped in a thick blanket of her own, and what was visible of her arms and legs was covered in some sort of cloth outfit with more fish stitched onto it. She had a book open next to her on the bed. Thin red lines on the sides of her neck produced the buzzing sound he’d been hearing, every time she breathes. Was that how she snores?

The fish in the tank all swim at once towards the corner nearest the bed, swimming frantically at the tank glass.

Tikki grunts, her snore sputtering as she reaches up and rubs at her face with one hand. Moving to sit up, she looks first towards the tank. A pause, ear fins twitching, before she looks towards the door. The mermaid squints, her eyes reflecting the light from the doorway as she sleepily processes.

”Nghf- Sticks…? I see… your eyes glowing.”

Spooky

The glowing eyes peering from the doorway glance to the side self-consciously and duck behind the door, though after a few moments, one came peeking back into view.

Yeah, she'd seen him, there was no point hiding. The door opened more and he stood in the threshold, huddled in his blanket, his tallness diminished in appearance somewhat by his nervous, slumped posture. He squeezed his pillow underneath his arm.

"S... sorry," he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the fish tank filter. "Checking... if safe." The honey must have helped somewhat, that was the most talking he'd managed in one go since they'd met!

Mystic

There's a pause as Tikki's sleepy brain works its way through what he just said.

"Oh..." she mumbles, yawning- and revealing a mouth absolutely full of sharp teeth. "It's... ok, Sticks. It's just you, me, and the guppies... they started yellin' the moment you-" another yawn "-opened the door."

She rubs at her face again, this time with both hands.

"You gonna- be ok...? Can you go back- to sleep...?"

Spooky

Guppies? He looked at the fish in the tank, though he hadn't heard them make any noise, let alone yell. He blinked, but turned his attention back to Tikki.

He nodded, but it was clear by how he was carrying himself that he was hesitant to go back to sleep. He was still tired, but fear had put him in a state of alertness despite that. Backing up from the door, he turned to go back down the hall. Maybe if he couldn't sleep, he could at least keep watch...

Mystic

"Wait."

Tikki grunts, scooting to the edge of her bed and rolling her legs over the side. She adjusts the sleeves of her colorful cloth attire, and digs around in her blankets. She removes something lumpy and plush from the bundle of blankets, standing up to approach the door.

"Here," Tikki says, holding out the object to him. "Holding this helped me relax when I first started living on land instead of the sea."

It was a stuffed lizard of some sort, but it had tiny plush spines on its back and a little pair of plush wings. Fabric fangs poked out of a sewn mouth underneath tiny black bead eyes.

"His name is Slithers. Maybe he'll help you feel safe, too."

Spooky

His glowing eyes blinked in the dark like two half-covered spotlights as he picked up the little soft... creature? He didn't know what it was, but it didn't seem to be alive. It appeared to be made out of the same kind of soft stuff the pillow was. The fabric that made up its plush hide had some kind of a spotted pattern that glimmered in the light of his eyes, like scales. Whatever this fake creature was, its appearance was endearing, and he smiled a little despite his anxiety.

He nestled it between the pillow and his body and gave a little nod to Tikki in thanks.

As he made his way back to the couch, he thought about what Tikki had said. She used to live in the sea... But what was that, exactly? A different town? He wondered how often she had to move. She had to hide too, right? If people found him scary to look at, they would absolutely find the silver beast to be scarier...

Getting to the couch, he took another look around the room. Still all clear. He was about to settle back down where he'd been before, when he stopped, noticing how his hand sunk down on the cushion of the couch when he started to kneel down on the rug. His eyes widened, and he squished the cushion with his hand.

This thing had pillows on it!

He got back up, and almost as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to do this or not, he cautiously sat on the couch instead, curling up in the crook of the couch's arm. It felt like he had more defenses this way, being in a corner- and it was a very soft and squishy corner. It was like he was gonna sink into it, but he didn't- not enough to be alarming, anyway. This was a good spot...

Snuggling down in the blankets all curled up and hugging his legs, with the pillow and plush sandwiched between the front of his torso and the back of his thighs, he sat there in quiet comfort until he finally began to doze off again...

Mystic

...This time, he's unbothered by nightmares, or even dreams. The comforting blackness of exhaustion envelops him, and for now, he's allowed to sleep in the peaceful silence of nothingness.

~*~

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