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jane-the-zombie · 4 years

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Inevitability || Remmy & Jane

TIMING: Present PARTIES: @whatsin-yourhead and @jane-the-zombie SUMMARY: Two zombies, both alike in dignity, in fair White Crest, where we lay our scene... CONTENT: Panic Attack TW, Gun TW

Anger was beginning to become a problem. Remmy couldn’t find enough places to put it, and nothing was making it better. They were beginning to believe Morgan might be right-- they needed to find some way to get rid of it, because drinking it away wouldn’t work and punching it away wasn’t working anymore, either. They’d left the mansion in an attempt to not have to face Blanche tonight when the world had dissolved into black again. It’d been happening more often now. Sometimes they saw Darius’ face, sometimes they saw their own face. Sometimes they saw everyone else’s faces. But it was jumbled. Scrambled in their brain. They could never find enough of it to put anything together. Just yelling and screaming and hiding. Bombs going off. Bullets flying. People exploding. Blood staining the ground. Fists flying. Remmy looked down and only saw horror, not the house they had stumbled onto. Remmy looked down and saw a rifle in their hands, not the emptiness they truly held. Remmy looked up and only saw the men trying to kill them, not the police officer who was trying to talk them down. Brick crumbling behind them, a broken fence, a scared family inside. Remmy’s eyes, black and angry and scared, didn’t see any of it. Only danger. Only anger.

“Hey! Hey now,” Jane said cautiously. Last thing she expected to encounter on her way home from work was to run into a violent person just absolutely trashing some poor person’s lawn. Jane approached cautiously, curiously wondering if she was about to get into a fight. It wasn’t that she minded, but she was less about doing things for a rush of adrenaline when other people were involved. Now she was just trying to deescalate the situation before whoever owned that house called people on duty. Hopefully no one was home. Jane had one hand up with her badge visible, the other on her gun at the ready. She wasn’t technically on duty and she definitely didn’t want to have to shoot anyone today, but it wasn’t like she could just leave this person there like this. “What’s your name?” Jane asked. “Can you tell me that??”

Someone was approaching Remmy, but all they saw was the sand colored uniform of the men who pointed their barrels at their friends. A flash. Remmy cried out, hands curling. Brick crumbling under their grip as they stood, dizzy with the reality they were trying to live through. It wasn’t right, something wasn’t right. But they couldn’t figure out what. “Stay away!” they snapped as the figure pressed closer. “Stay away!” they picked up a rock, chucked it. Anger mounting. Reality shifted around them again, and for a moment, they saw the street. They saw the night around them, the trees, the grass, the walkway. The woman and her hand on a gun. A gun. Remmy’s eyes widened again. Something inside of them took over, that monster that was deep down, that everyone told them to keep fed, to keep calm. Remmy abandoned their spot, charging. Remmy wasn’t entirely Remmy anymore.

Did they just throw a rock at her? Jane ducked. “Hey! No, enough!” Damn it. This was going to go poorly quickly. Jane couldn’t see enough to figure out if this person was on drugs or was having a particularly nasty panic episode. Judging on how they were moving and acting and how they looked, Jane theorized the latter. “Look, let me help you. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m here to help you.” Except something wasn’t quite right. Jane saw the shift a half-second before it happened, and suddenly they were charging at her. Fuck. Swiftly, Jane had her gun drawn and took a single shot. She aimed for the leg, as taught. She hit her mark alright. Except it didn’t do anything. There wasn’t even any blood. It didn’t even seem to slow them down. Jane scowled. “What the he - oh shit.”

Remmy’s body landed with a hard thud on top of the other person. Sandy eyes and sandy skin flashed in their head. He had a gun pressed to their chest. A swipe of the hand sent it careening. Dark hair and cool eyes flickered for a moment. The person below them wasn’t a man, it was a woman. She turned back into the man, back pressed into the desert sand. Remmy’s fist raised. Eyes angry for a moment. Until a voice cut through. This wasn’t right. Remmy’s eyes shuddered for a moment as they lurched back into the present reality, fist pummeled into the ground next to the woman’s head. No blood, no broken bones. Remmy’s whole chest surged. “I--” they started, blinking, staring wide-eyed down at the woman. “Where--” they couldn’t move, body frozen. “Where am I?”

Out of all the ways to die, doing her job surely couldn’t be the worst one. They connected with her and Jane hit the grass hard, the angry person on top of them. Adrenaline jolted through her as she struggled against them. Shit. She had a memory straight from her first year of training - unofficial rule when getting into a fight. Don’t let them get on top of you. “Don’t -” Their fist slammed next to her head and she flinched. Christ. Well, she wasn’t dead. Her gun had fallen out of her hand and lay in the grass next to her. Fuck. Well, she wasn’t dead yet. Jane looked up at them and made a face. “On someone’s lawn in The Bend. I’m a police officer. You tackled me,” Jane grumbled. Wait. Hold on. “I shot you,” Jane informed them, trying to get a good look at their leg. Still no blood. Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell? Get off. You’re not bleeding. Are you a zombie?” Jane blurted out.

Remmy stayed frozen for a moment until the woman snapped at them to get off and they scrambled back, kicking away the gun and grappling a tree to pull themself up. “I-I-I-- I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t-- please don’t--” a police officer? Shit. This wasn’t good. Remmy’s head felt like it was going to spin straight off their shoulders. The word zombie echoed in the night. “What-- how-- are you-- you’re a hunter.” That was the only thread of logic that made sense to Remmy. They backed up, hitting the tree. “S-st-stay away from me!” they said, fumbling around their pockets for something, anything, to defend themself with. Their head still swirling, trying to make sense of the memories flooding it and still stay grounded in the reality of the moment.

“Hey - hey, stop,” Jane sat up, pushing herself up off the ground, watching as her gun was kicked farther away from them. Wait, what? Hunter? Jane held her hands up where Remmy could see them. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it! Hold it. I’m not a hunter. I promise.” Jane was tempted to step closer but she definitely didn’t want to spook them. “I don’t kill zombies!” Well, technically, she did kill that mime zombie. But that definitely didn’t count. “I am a zombie!” Jane reached up slowly, taking out her scrunchie and moving her hair to show the bite scar on her neck. “Well, I’m almost one. I haven’t died yet. It’s okay. We’re okay! I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? Let’s just take a minute to breathe. Please. Can you tell me your name?”

Wait, what? Remmy blinked again and suddenly everything buzzing inside of them stopped. They immediately knew they weren’t in danger, and so did their head. Not a hunter. A zombie. An almost zombie. Exhaling heavily, Remmy moved tentatively away from the tree. “I-- I don’t know how I got here. How did I--?” they looked around, as if the answer would be somewhere in the grass, like it was something to be dropped and picked back up again. They met eyes with the cop again, hair mussed, patch askew. “What happened?” Eyes meeting the bite on their neck. A subconscious hand went up to the one on their shoulder. “R-Remmy,” they finally said, looking at Jane with doe eyes. “M-my name’s Remmy.”

Jane shook her head. She didn’t know how they got out there either. She inched forward, carefully. “I’m going to pick up my gun and put it away,” she announced. She stooped down and picked her gun up off the grass and stuck it back in its holster. “Remmy. Right. I’m Jane, nice to, uh, meet you.” Jane’s head tilted to her slightly. “I found you here on my way home from work. You were angry, throwing things. Tried to nail me with a rock.” Still cautious, unwilling to set them off any farther, she took another step closer. She wasn’t going to arrest Remmy, or even really think about it, because what good would it do. Besides, no one was home anyway. “Does this happen to you a lot?” Jane asked. “Where you don’t know where you end up?”

“Oh, I--” Remmy’s eyes watched the gun and they screwed them shut, pressing their palms to them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t--” they pulled them away, look back at Jane. “Work? I--” was that where Remmy had been headed? Work? Where ever where they? What part of town was this? “Did I do that?” they asked, looking at the lawn. They couldn’t follow Jane’s questions well enough to be completely coherent yet. “Um, sometimes. Yes? Maybe. I mean-- lately, I think. It...yes, it’s been um...happening a lot lately,” they murmured. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” The thought came back to them. “Y-you’re a zombie. I-- you said you hadn’t died yet. It-- um. How long have you known?”

A thing that was happening a lot lately. Not good. Jane frowned, glancing back at the screwed up lawn. “Yes. You did that,” Jane said. “Why don’t you let me drive you somewhere - home, maybe?” She was more concerned about that than she was about the whole zombie thing. This wasn’t at all like when she encountered Morgan on the beach. She was pretty sure she preferred the stupid prank to something like this. Jane rubbed her neck, a little sheepish as fans fingers trailing over the scar on her neck. “Yeah, I’m… a zombie. Or will be.” A pre-zombie? “I’ve known for a couple years. Long story.”

Remmy frowned. A couple years? Remmy hadn’t even been dead a couple of years and here this woman was, having known for that long and she wasn’t even a zombie yet. They looked over at her warily. “I didn’t mean to,” they said, looking back at the lawn, then to her. Was she going to arrest them? “I just-- I lose track of myself sometimes. I’m supposed to...I have a service dog. He’s--” where was Moose? Had he been with them? No, he was back at the house, there was no lead on their belt. “Sometimes I forget I’m not still over there.” They scooted forward a bit. “You’re not going to arrest me?” they asked after a moment, too afraid, suddenly, to look her-- or their mess-- in the eye.

Jane knew they didn’t mean too. This wasn’t deliberate. Dots started connecting in her head when they mentioned service dog and sometimes they forgot they still weren’t ‘over there’. They were a vet, most likely. This had to have been some sort of PTSD attack. Did the government know they had a zombie overseas? Oh god, did the government know about zombies? She hadn’t even considered that. She probably should arrest them, but that wasn’t going to help - what good would it do? Cite them for property damage and assaulting a police officer? No thanks. “Do you want me to arrest you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think that is going to help you at all. Your dog wasn’t with you, right?” She assumed Remmy would be more panicked if that were the case. Jane nodded back to where her car was - thank god she took her car into work today since her bike was getting professionally cleaned from the damn glitter. “Come on, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

Remmy knew that their answer didn’t coincide with how they felt. Yes, they wanted to say, I deserve it. I’m a monster. But they understood why she wouldn’t. That monster part of them wasn’t what had done this, it was the more vulnerable part of them that had done this. The part they couldn’t reconcile with death. They looked back at her, and they both knew the answer. So, instead, Remmy walked slowly over to her and muttered, “I’m sorry,” quietly. And maybe it was about the lawn, and maybe it was about trying to hurt her-- but maybe it was also about the inevitability of what she would become. “I just wanna go home…” they said, looking up at her finally. “Can I just go home?”

#para #para remmy #remmy #inevitability #wickedswriting

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fairyjeff · 4 years

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Lost In The Woods || Lydia, Remmy, Dewey, Mercy, Jeff

Not all who wander are lost.... Except they’re seriously lost. Super fucking lost.

@inspirationdivine, @whatsin-yourhead, @deweythedew, @cryxmercy

Jeff was certain he’d gone this way before. All he wanted to do was toss his fucking coin in the river and go for a walk in the woods to clear his head before his shift… Except, he was still on the walk, and his shift had started a half hour ago. He checked his phone again, once again trying to load google maps to try and get him back to his car. The fucking stump he kept passing somehow was starting to piss him off. He even walked straight away from it at least twice. Maybe once. Actually, he didn’t really know where he was going. He had just tried to call his boss (of course, no fucking service), when he heard others and he swore on relief. “Fucking finally. You guys know how to get back to the road? I’m fuckin’ lost here.”

Lydia hadn’t had much of a plan for the evening other than a quiet stroll and a conversation with some pixies, but it hadn’t been long before she’d spotted a familiar figure - Remmy the zombie. “Remmy! How are you doing?” She asked, waltzing over, footsteps silent on the gravel of the path. But moments later, another approached them, callous and swearing and - oh, no, this was that fae Deirdre had told her about. She recognised him from his profile pictures. “Yes, of course, it’s this way…”

After the third time meeting the same stump, Mercy realized something was going on. The fact that it had taken three passes for her to realize it was only mildly less irritating than the stump itself. Her first thought was that this rang of fairy bullshit. There was no use in going around again. It would just bring her back here. So Mercy found a different stump and sat down. Someone else would be along eventually.

Remmy was just out on their usual route with Moose, taking him for his evening walk. They’d wandered a bit off the path this time, enjoying the nice night. A familiar voice reached their ears and they perked up, glancing around. One squint through the darkness later and they spotted Lydia approaching them. “Lydia!” They waved, glancing around. “What’re you doing out here--” they started, but someone else’s voice interrupted them. A man, huffing about being lost. “Oh, yeah, we just came from--” they turned to point the path out, but then realized the path was….not there anymore. Instead, it was a different path, and a different stump. Moose whined. “Um….Lydia?” They looked at her. “Where’d the path go?”

An evening stroll was rather typical for one of Dewey’s days off. It offered at least a momentary break from the weekly monotony, and he generally enjoyed the time to himself. What he didn’t enjoy, however, was losing his bearings. He had lived in White Crest long enough to know which paths led where, what areas he frequented often and those which were new. But that stump - hadn’t he passed it at least twice now? And then he picked up on a sudden chatter ahead of him, slowly approaching the small group with a level of caution, listening. “Seems we’re all in a bit of misplacement,”

“Out for a wander, to meet some friends,” Lydia replied with a mildly concerned smile. However, as she turned, she realised Remmy was right. The path wasn’t there anymore. As someone else approached her eyes narrowed at him, although he looked cautious as well. “Indeed. Honeyblossom!” She turned and called into the night sky. “Honeyblossom, I know your pranks. You’ve had your fun now. Stop this at once!” Honeyblossom, however, didn’t reply That wasn’t too surprising - this didn’t feel like fae magic, least of all that of the pixies she’d come to see. Instead, her eyes settled on a figure watching them from afar. “Is this your doing?” She called out to Mercy.

The Fury had sat on her log, watching the others as they had accumulated in a small, slightly uncertain-looking group. She vaguely recognized a few of them from around town, but didn’t know their names. She wondered just how many of them whatever was messing around out here would need for… whatever it was doing. Apparently this was her answer. A motley looking group, but she’d seen worse. When one of the group noticed her and called out, Mercy tossed aside the stick she’d been holding and stood. She moved closer, still eyeing the small group curiously before her eyes settled on the one who’d called out to her. “If it was my doing you wouldn’t know I was here. But no. I don’t have this kind of magic.”

“But the fuckin’ path wasn’t there, it was - oh. Hey!” Jeff made a face where he pointed to where his path was supposed to be. Something about the woman with Remmy felt weird, but he stopped focusing on that the second he saw the dog. “Oh! I know that dog!” Jeff said, pointing at Moose, before looking at Remmy. “We talked online, I have a dog too. Remmy, right? My dog is Lett-” Jeff didn’t get a chance to continue telling Remmy about Lettie, because things were happening. People were here. And they were talking about fucking honeypots and and magic. Jeff looked between all of them a moment. “Hold on one fuckin’ second,” he said, holding his hands up, confused. “Why’re we talking about magic?” He looked at Remmy, as if they would know. “Does this have anything to do with fuckin’ fairies?”

Honeypot? Remmy blinked, looking from Lydia, to the guy walking up, to the woman far away. Moose was still calm by their legs, so there was no reason to panic, but there were more people here than Remmy was really comfortable being around, especially since they didn’t know too many of them. Only Lydia. Shrinking behind her slightly, Remmy glance at the even newer, new comer, a pale, tall man, who looked just as confused as they did. “Oh, umm-- I, I don’t think you’re supposed to call them that,” they pointed out to Jeff, wincing at the word ‘fairy’. “Wait, magic? Like curse magic? Like, the chest and the-the beach stuff?”

And just before Dewey could bring up a reasoning for their sudden topographic confusion, an explanation - a rather… far reaching one - was brought up, and he immediately felt his jaw tighten. Magic, curses, true he believed in all of it, but even in a town like White Crest, those weren’t always the reasons for something a bit odd happening. “Now, perhaps we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions before we’ve assessed the situation,” He interjected, keeping his tone even and calm. For now the group seemed to have their heads, but that could change in the blink of an eye. “Perhaps there’s been some… newer trails added in the last few weeks? It isn’t unheard of for such changes to take place. Or, one of us might be lost, while the other could be on the right path?”

Lydia had to freeze her face in place to not glare literal daggers into Jeff’s back. Human raised gancanagh or not, there was no excuse for that behaviour. Not the priority, Lydia, not the priority. The woman who had lingered had some kind of magic, but she was right - Lydia’s skin didn’t ring like bell chimes to look at her, not the way Jeff did. She stood with Remmy, comfortable to let the more nervous zombie hide behind her. But it was the other man who spoke sense. “I’d agree, if there was any path. But we won’t find our way standing here. We’re to the west of the town, we can just about see Polaris there,” she pointed to the north star in the sky, “So if we keep it to our left we’ll find the path quickly enough. As we’re all walking together, I’m Lydia.” She introduced herself, and promptly began walking.

Mercy raised an eyebrow at the flippant use of the word ‘fairy.’ She hadn’t known that many fae over her lifetime, but the few she had known would’ve rankled. Thankfully, someone else pointed it out. Mercy didn’t know their name, but she spoke to them anyway, glancing at the first man who’d spoken as well. “Not necessarily,” she said of the magic being a curse. Or it being magic at all. The other man spoke after that, and Mercy crossed her arms, listening to what he had to say. It was logical enough, and she told him so. But she also agreed with the woman that called herself Lydia. There was no path. So they would have to make their own it seemed. Mercy glanced up at the sky as Lydia started walking, gesturing that the others should go ahead of her if they wished. “I’m Mercy. I’ll bring up the rear.”

“Fuck,” Jeff said, “I forgot again.” Deirdre wasn’t going to be happy with him, but at least there was no one here that cared that he said fairy. “Faerie. Fae. My bad, my fucking bad, I know - wait, hold on, I’m confused,” Jeff said, following after Lydia. “There was a path, all I was doing was throwing my coin in some water like I was told, and then going for a walk. Oh. I’m Jeff, by the way,” he said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I’ve been out here for over a fuckin’ hour, and I’m late to work because every fucking time I end up back at that stupid fucking stump. I’m still on the magic thing - are we all the same fucking page with that bullshit?”

Remmy didn’t like anything going on, and Moose could tell. He whined softly and pressed his body against their legs, letting them know he was there for support. Remmy held his lead tightly, moving quickly when Lydia started to head off. Who were all these people? “Jeff? Oh, yeah--” they started, stumbling in the dark a little, “that’s why you know Moose. I’m Remmy.” They looked back at the other two, Mercy and whoever that other guy was. He seemed like a reasonable man. “Okay, but like...I walk this path almost every morning with Moose. Or, um-- I walk the path I came in on. Since we’re not on that path anymore…” they looked down as they walked, as if staring into the dirt would give them the answer, before looking back up. “If it isn’t magic, what is it?”

Dewey wasn’t quite sure if his hypothesis was entirely correct, or even viable at this point. But it felt better to know that they would at least start moving again - hopefully towards a solution, and not unintentionally losing themselves further into the wood. “Dewey Foster,” He added after everyone else had introduced themselves, idly shoving a hand inside of his pocket. He sighed, a bit of frustration etching into his thoughtful features. “I certainly don’t… completely rule out the possibility of something otherworldly. But I truly don’t believe that’s what we’re dealing with. Ah, Jeff, was it?” He motioned towards the blonde, “You said you’ve been walking for about an hour now. Perhaps it really is just a case of being lost? It’s not unheard of for people to wind up running into others with the same predicament. It could be a simple case of misdirection,” En masse. Mm.

“I’d only been in the park a few minutes before we wandered astray, we can’t be that far from the town.” Lydia was confident in this, at least. But the woods weren’t always kind. Lydia knew by heart many of the kinds of tricksters that lived here at night, and while she could exclude some - this was no Wisp - others she was less sure about. But she kept her eyes on Polaris as they walked, ensuring it kept them all in line, walking in the right direction. She could almost hear the town in the distance. They were so clo- Lydia yelped as she tripped and began to fall, catching herself on a tree branch at the last second. “Wha-” It was the stump. The same stump, Lydia was sure of it. Her eyes flashed up to Polaris again, and it hadn’t moved. It was still on her left. But behind her was the stump, and to the right the branch her and Remmy had been stood under just as Dewey had joined them. There, a little further, where Mercy had been watching them from afar. “How on earth are we back here?”

“I am,” Mercy said to Jeff as they walked. About being on the same page in regards to magic. “Have you seen anything else? Besides the stump and all of us?” She glanced at the woman walking the dog - Remmy, she noted to herself - and wondered if perhaps the canine could sense something none of them could. Animals were clever like that. A way out of all this perhaps? But it - Moose, that is - stayed closed to Remmy, and didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. And Remmy looked nervous, so Mercy didn’t even bring the suggestion up. She was a fan of turmoil, but even she had her limits. “It could be something completely benign-” Not that she really believed that. “- as Mr. Foster suggested.” But when they came full circle, quite literally, again… and Mercy looked up into the sky just as Lydia did, to see Polaris as it had always been… unease crept along her spine. She left her spot at the back of the line and moved to stand beside Lydia. Mercy never took her eyes from the sky. “The stars don’t lie,” she murmured pointedly to the other woman. Not because she was trying to be secretive, but simply because it felt dangerous to speak too loudly.

Remmy reached out quickly to try and help Lydia when she stumbled, but the woman caught herself with ease. Moose seemed more tense now, as well, and Remmy moved to the opposite side of Lydia that the woman who said her name was Mercy came up to, unintentionally shielding themself. Another low whine from Moose and Remmy reached down to pat him. “I don’t wanna like...interrupt or anything, but I’ve got a really bad feeling about all of this.” And Remmy’s feelings were usually right, especially when coupled with the way Moose was acting. They looked over at Lydia then back to Jeff and the other man-- Dewey-- before joining their gaze at the stars. “Maybe...it’s like...not there? Or, um...we were going the wrong way. I-I don’t really know how magic works. If that’s even...if this is even…” But what else could it be?

“The stars don’t lie, but those may not be stars,” Lydia replied. She turned and looked sympathetically at Remmy and Moose. “I do too, darling. It might be magic, which works in many ways. I’m not sure.” But as she followed their gaze, she heard something behind them, rustling in the bushes. “Did anyone hear that? I can’t see far in the dark.”

“I’m with the dog,” Jeff said flatly, nodding to Moose as he whined. He “I don’t like this at fuckin’ all. That’s the same fucking stump I’ve been seeing this entire fucking time.” Jeff said, exasperated. “No matter what I do, I end back here. It’s not - See what now?” Jeff asked, finally paying attention to Lydia. He looked back over at the rustling bushes, pushed his sleeves up and stepped forward. If this were Boston, it was probably some drunk idiot. “Hey!” He snapped. “If anyone’s in there, you come out right now! Don’t make me fucking come back there!” He forgot, for a moment, that this wasn’t Boston.

For a brief moment, Dewey had thought they might be able to escape whatever this predicament was by banding together. Five brains versus one sounded like far better odds. Although, there could be potential downsides - he didn’t want to delve into them, however. No, he remained cautiously optimistic. Up until the very moment Lydia took a tumble, immediately stepping a bit closer. When he noticed the stump, he had to stifle a huff of frustration, fingers running through his hair anxiously. “This doesn’t make any sense,” He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. Well, if they weren’t stars, then what exactly were they? Though he indeed heard the rustling, head twitching towards the area it originated from. Seeing Jeff seemingly preparing himself for a rumble, the doctor reached out and pressed a gentle hand to his shoulder. “Not just yet. We don’t want to potentially aggravate whoever… or whatever it is,” His voice lowered, eyes narrowing as he peered into the darkness, searching for something, anything identifiable. He really didn’t like the idea of fighting something they may know nothing about - but if worse came to worse, he would do what was necessary.

“So do I,” Mercy agreed with Remmy. She continued to look at the sky, willing whatever was at work to show itself. She vaguely registered that Lydia stumbled, but the other woman righted herself on her own, so Mercy didn’t react. It wasn’t until Remmy said something else - that maybe the star wasn’t really there - and Lydia followed up with the idea that maybe it wasn’t a star at all, that Mercy finally glanced back at the group. She was about to ask a question when she heard the noise too, and turned towards the trees. But the guy named Jeff was already rolling up his sleeves. Shit. “I wouldn’t do that-” Mercy said, glancing between Jeff and the rustling. Dewey spoke up after that, and while Mercy heard him, and wholeheartedly agreed, she was far too concentrated on the rising sense of foreboding that crept over her skin. This felt achingly familiar. More familiar than the stump that they were being led to over and over and ove- OH. Oh no. “It’s a trap.” The words came softly, but with a tone that suggested she wasn’t playing around. “We’re being led into a trap.”

Remmy stuck close by Lydia, unhooking Moose’s lead in case they needed to bolt. Neither of them would do any good chained together. The rustling was getting closer, and it rang louder in Remmy’s ears than they were sure was normal. Senses suddenly heightened and tense as Jeff started yelling, and Dewey was whispering and Lydia was squinting into the darkness. And now Mercy was speaking-- a trap. It was a trap. Hair on the back of Remmy’s neck bristled. Their whole body went taught. It was happening again. They’d walked into a trap. It happened in an instance. They blinked and they were back in that bunker. Voices outside. Gunshots. Remmy’s whole face went pale and Moose began whining again. Remmy lunged, reached out for Jeff-- Anderson-- Jeff? Hand pulling back on him. “Don’t go out there!” they cried out in a hushed whisper. “Don’t go out there!”

Jeff’s eyes rolled into the back of his head when Dewey put his hand on his shoulder, looking back at him. “I’m not about to let some fuckin’ asshole hide in the bushes and watch us. Fucking creepy, especially if it’s a fucking trap. Fuck that,” Jeff said, shaking him off. He went to go forward again until Remmy the Dog Friend lunged for him, yanking him back. Remmy was surprisingly stronger than they looked. Jeff’s eyes widened and he turned to look at them, “Hey! Don’t tug, Remmy - oh. Hey. Are you okay?” Jeff forgot about attacking the increasingly rustling bush, looking down at Remmy. He lowered his voice, leaning down slightly. “Do you know what’s in the bush? Why are we whispering?”

A trap? Dewey’s already present frown only deepened at the claim Mercy made, gaze never leaving the spot where he could have sworn he’d seen something. Though his mounting nerves weren’t the only ones of the group, and he could already see the situation devolving into panic rather quickly. And as fortified as Jeff appeared, he assumed the other was still prone to injury just as easily as any other human. With nothing else to go on concerning the other three, and Remmy obviously startled by something in particular, he glanced back at the group before beginning to step forward. “Everyone just stay together, I’m checking this out for myself,” Despite the unknowns and potential for something supernaturally dangerous, he felt more assured in his own strength than leaving anyone else to deal head-on with… whatever this was. And though his anxiety pulsed, rising gravely similar to a quickening heartbeat, he didn’t hesitate.

Mercy wasn’t sure what this was, but she certainly didn’t think this was just some creeper watching them from the bushes. Thankfully, Remmy stepped forwards and kept Jeff from doing anything foolish. The Fury had no idea what the others were, but it seemed they were all aware of the existence of magic and the supernatural. In an umbrella sense at least. She listened aside as Jeff asked if Remmy knew what was out there, but didn’t hear if they answered as Dewey stepped forwards. Mercy knew that whatever was out there was unlikely to harm her enough to actually kill her, but that didn’t mean there was no danger. She could still be injured. As could the others. She glanced again at the others before raising a hand that suggested staying put for the moment, and moved after Dewey. “I hope you’re something that doesn’t die easily…” Mercy said quietly as they slowly walked towards the treeline. “Truly.”

Lydia was, true to the stereotype, a lover, not a fighter. She owned a small pistol she carried only for hunters, not for whatever being was responsible for this. She hovered by Remmy, watching them carefully. “Remmy. Remington. Stay with us. Those two will sort whatever this is.” Although Lydia’s voice was high pitched, her wings thrumming under her glamour. The air was beginning to taste like cigars and burning hair. It crouched, watching as the group splintered. Rubbing its ears with its knees, it bared its teeth as the two approached. Standing, it’s joints clicked and cracked, before it charged. These woods belonged to it, and it would protect the woods.

Mercy had seen many creatures that existed outside the scope of most human knowledge. Creatures that were harmless as well as those that were not. She’d seen creatures older than herself, creatures as ancient as the myths that told their stories and then turned them into fairytales. The Fury had even hunted some of them for awhile, ages ago. So this horror was not entirely unfamiliar, it’s appearance buzzing at the edge of her memory, but still unnameable. Was it what had been leading them in circles? Was it the cause of the illusions? Whatever it was, and whatever power it had, right now it was focused on running her and Dewey down. It’s long, bony limbs stretched out over the grassy space between the forests edge and the spot where the two of them stood. Impossibly fast, impossibly long, impossibly horrible as flat white teeth bared in a scream of rage that was both wholly monstrous and yet still vaguely human. Mercy barely had time to duck as a thick, skeletal limb tried to stomp her into the ground. But where the front one missed, the back one clipped the Valkyrie, and she was knocked to the ground. The hoof found a violent purchase against her back, and she grunted in pain as she felt something snap in her rib cage. But the creature was still moving, reaching and screaming for its next victims. “MOVE!” Mercy wheezed at the others, grimacing at the pain in her side as she stumbled to her feet.

It was happening all over again. Remmy wanted to hang on to the present moment, but they just couldn’t. They were all in danger. Alarms blared in their head. Get out, get out, get out. Remmy heard screams and tore past Jeff, away from Lydia. They couldn’t let them die again. Not again. They plowed through bushes, brush, a tree, something pulling in them, heightened senses alert, eyes narrowing in on whatever was moving towards them. The group. Their friends. The forest before them turned into rubble. Into decrepit houses. Into a battlefield. They looked down and saw boots, uniformed pants. Their rifle, dangling by their side as someone dragged them along. We have to get inside! No, not inside. “No! Not inside! We have to keep going! They’ll trap us! It’s an ambush!” They couldn’t let it happen again. Remmy’s hand found someone on the ground, hoisting them up with a strength unfound in humans or other. Eyes flashing red, angry. Shoving themself between the figure in front of them and the fallen soldier. Fists flying. Something connected, cracked-- not their fist, never their fist, bones bending instead. A heavy weight pressed against their chest, launching them back. The rubbled flickered for a moment back to the woods. “We have to…” they stood up, a concave hole in their chest. No pain registered across their face. “Keep moving.”

A horse. That was the first thought that flickered into Dewey’s mind when the creature had first emerged. A feral, nightmarish amalgamation of horse and… a faint semblance of human, yet something entirely not. Though he wasn’t breathing hard, or at all, he felt his chest tighten with a stifled gasp as it charged towards them. The fight-or-flight response had urged him to dart out of it’s path, just barely managing to escape the brute force of a hoof to the chest. He was immediately fixated on Mercy, just barely able to make it upright. And then, of all people he hadn’t expected, Remmy flinging themselves into the foray. Right, no use just standing there. Rearing back a few steps, he took a running start before slamming his body into the creature, attempting to knock it off balance - and he did at least manage that. At the very least when it staggered back onto it’s feet, it would hopefully go for him in it’s tunnel vision rage. “Over here!” He baited it, crouched in wait as he tried to detect the horrors next move.

It did not go for Dewey, Lydia realised with the slow horror of someone who was fit, but wasn’t a runner. Her toned muscle was aesthetically pleasing, not functional. When it, with teeth like daggers and eyes flashing in the dark, turned its wild eyes to her, Lydia knew it was troubled. Screaming, with no grace whatsoever, Lydia turned and ran, but it was on her leg, its teeth scraping through her jeans and skin. Lydia screamed, the glamour dropping from her firebug wings, which spread and beat to drag its grip off her. Eventually it released, turning its wild eyes to a new target, as Lydia hovered, grimacing as her blood trickled down her leg. “How do we kill it?” She yelled - but by we, she mean anyone but her.

Things happened really quickly. One second he was leaning down to ask Remmy if they were okay and the next everyone and their fucking mother was trying to attack the ugly beast. “Jesus fucking Christ, can we -” Jeff never got to finish his sentence, becasue Dewey’s bait went straight for the woman that made him fee tingly - in a flash Lydia’s glamour dropped. Holy fucking shit, she had fucking wings - holy shit, Lydia was a fucking fairy!! Fae. Oh shit. Jeff cursed loudly as the stipid thing came charging after him. Jeff went charging right back. Except, as he got closer, the thing reared back, a horrible noise coming from it. “Get fucking back here you piece of shit -” Jeff swore at it, before getting close enough to smash his fist into it’s face. The beast scrambled and Jeff chased after it, not ready for the fight to be over yet. However, the stupid thing ended up faster than him, and as he stopped panting, he realized two things. “I found the fucking path!” Jeff shouted over his shoulder to the others. The second thing was that he’d put his fucking shirt on inside out. Fucking whoops. Jeff turned back, jogging back towards the injured Lydia, “Hey, you alright? Is everyone alright? I found the path!”

Mercy didn’t know what the hell had just happened. One second she was being trampled, and the next she was being snatched bodily to her feet and another figure - Remmy, she noted - was putting themselves between the Valkyrie and the raging onslaught of teeth and hooves. “Holy shit, are you-” out of your mind, Mercy tried to ask as she pulled in a painful breath against her busted rib. But she never got the chance. A powerful hoof connected with Remmy’s chest - a wet crunching sound accompanying it - and they went flying backwards. Mercy reached out reflexively to try and snag them, but it was too late. Or… holy shit. Mercy watched Remmy get to their feet, the indention in their chest one that should’ve been fatal. But they didn’t even seem to notice. They just… got right back up. But there was little time to think on it as Dewey started to yell at the creature, and even tried to knock it off it’s feet. But it wasn’t deterred. It turned for the others. For Lydia the star-reader, and Jeff. Mercy looked around for anything she could use as a weapon, unable to answer Lydia’s question, but there was nothing. Not even a pointy stick. But as she was about to turn and simply throw herself back into the fray, Jeff started yelling… and then he… he punched it in the face. It made a horrible sound before turning tail and fleeing back towards the forest. Good fucking riddance, she thought, raising a hand to let Jeff know that she was alright before looking to the others.

When the thing charged for Mulberry-- Lydia?-- Remmy staggered after it, their head spinning. Someone was shouting, fists flying. This wasn’t right. As Remmy took another step, missing the root on the ground, they tumbled forward and the dessert gave way to jungle again. Ears ringing, Remmy looked up. Blood. Lydia was bleeding. It smelled funny. Remmy’s nose crinkled as they pushed themself back up, stumbling over to her. “Are you--” okay? No, she was bleeding. Jeff was yelling and chasing something. Footsteps. Remmy, dizzy, turned quickly. But it was just Jeff again. Somehow winded, Remmy collapsed next to Lydia. The others started showing up. Remmy looked up at Jeff, squinting through the darkness. ��The path? You found it? We can leave?” Thank god, because Remmy had no idea what had just happened. And, somehow, their head was killing them.

“I just need to get home and rest,” Lydia replied, using her wings and good leg to hop through the woods. Jeff had chased it away. How had Jeff chased it away? Lydia wined as her hurt leg brushed against the undergrowth. Soon she’d hide her wings again, but the damage was already done. “We can leave.” Lydia looked to Remmy, and softly murmured, “Make sure you eat when you get home.” Lydia needed to as well. She looked around at the ragtag group of survivors. There was no doubt in her mind that fate had thrown them together, and would again some other time.

#para #para lydia #para remmy #para dewey #para mercy #lydia #remmy #dewey #mercy #lost in the woods #that was a time lmfaooo #panic attack tw

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inspirationdivine · 4 years

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Not Suspicious || Lydia and Remmy

Timing: Immediately after Sammy died Characters: @whatsin-yourhead @inspirationdivine Summary: Remmy was home when Lydia fired her gun Warnings: Reference to gun usage, domestic abuse

Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Lydia had barely made it to the top of the stairs, still bloodstained, when she heard hurried footsteps. Remmy was home. Lydia looked down at herself, at the bloody patterns on her orange dress and the pistol still in her hands. Luckily the basement door brough her right into the hall way, and Lydia owned more extravagant coats than she did coffee cups, including a beige ankle length trench coat she grabbed just as she shut the basement door behind her, so that the smell of blood couldn’t follow her around. Throwing the coat around herself and cinching the belt, Lydia walked over to the hall she could hear Remmy running down. “Oh, darling, I’m ever so sorry, I must have frightened you terribly.”

The day had been uncharacteristically quiet until the loud bang. Immediately followed by a scream. Remmy was up and out of their bed the split second after the echoed had died down, scrambling for the hallway. Moose was barking, hot on their heels. Lydia-- they needed to get to Lydia. Something had happened. Someone was inside the house. What was all this security for if they couldn’t keep one woman safe? Remmy skid to a halt when they rounded the corner and saw Lydia standing at the end of the hallway, long coat adorned. Though she looked shaken, visibly so, there was nothing around to point to what could’ve caused it, or where the scream came from. Only the door behind her that always remained locked. Remmy paused. “Wh--what was that? What happened?”

“I-” Lydia still felt frozen inside, but even she could see her own hands trembling. Whatever had happened down there, whatever she had done, her mind was protecting herself from it. She looked at the basement door, at her gun. “Not- Nothing to be concerned about. I’m so- I’m so sorry, Remmy. I know how you hate loud noises.” She looked to Moose the dog, who unlike Remmy had an exceptional sense of smell. Don’t give me away, Lydia thought at the dog pointedly. She couldn’t lie, but Lydia had other ways to tell the truth. “I just got in from coffee with- Doesn’t matter. When I came in I thought… I thought I heard someone downstairs. The door was ajar. I thought there was an intruder. You know how I’ve- how I’ve been, recently” All perfectly true so far. Up until she’d realised who was creeping down that tunnel, it hadn’t made a lick of sense. Now, piece by piece, all the evidence was coming together. The fear, the excitement, the bliss even when he hadn’t only just been fed on, the door she’d found ajar the other week. All of it coming together. “I startled. I fired, but it just- It might have been the pipes or something. There wasn’t a single person down there.” Humans weren’t people, after all. Lydia smiled self deprecatingly, looking back at Remmy softly. “You should see the hole in the wall. I won’t do it again.”

Remmy listened to Lydia’s words, but had a hard time hearing them. No...not hearing, processing them. It made sense, it really did. It was only after these two long years that Remmy finally understood how PTSD worked. How it made you believe things that weren’t true, and see things that weren’t there. They had no reason not to believe Lydia, but Moose was stiff by their side, and a low grumble was forming in this throat. Remmy stroked his back and he calmed, sitting down just like he was taught to do, before they looked over to Lydia. She was still shaking, the gun was rattling in her grip, and Remmy inched forward, holding out a hand. “I-It’s okay. You’re sure no one’s down there? Do you want me to double check?” they asked. “Maybe you should...put the gun down, though, yeah?” She didn’t look harmed, and Remmy felt their heart wrenching. Even if she did end up having another episode and firing, the bullet could not kill them, but it could kill Moose. They looked at her with one big eye, peaking out from under too long strands of now brown hair. “It’s okay, it’s safe.”

“I’m sure. I would have seen any person down there. Thank you though,” Lydia said softly. She looked back down at Moose with a smile, but the dog looked stressed, uncomfortable. It could smell, even if Remmy was none the wiser. For a brief second, a hot rogue wave of rage rushed through Lydia. Sammy had nearly taken this from her, too. Giving Remmy a reason to doubt her. Lydia swallowed. She couldn’t lose Remmy, she couldn’t. “You’re right,” Lydia agreed, carefully clicking the brass safety, setting the pistol down on the table. The metal was still warm to the touch. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you or Moose.”

Something didn’t quite add up, even if Remmy’s mind couldn’t put the pieces together yet. Still, their priority was making sure Lydia was alright. They made it to her and realized that the sudden calmness in her voice made their spine tingle. She set the gun down on the table and they looked back up at her. “I know you wouldn’t,” they said quietly, “not on purpose.” Moose was still sitting in the spot Remmy had left him. It wasn’t like him. He was always warm with Lydia. Remmy turned their focus away from him, though, and back to the woman, still pale with whatever had just happened. “Let’s-- we can go sit. I-in the living room. To help calm down. I’ll sit with you.”

Sitting down would involve taking off the coat. The facade of just having come in would fall away. Lydia smiled all the same, letting sadness colour her expression. “I, um, I’ve had a busy day. You should have heard my heart down there, a million miles an hour.” Truths, twisted to suit her purposes, wringing her hands nervously. She looked up at Remmy sheepishly. “Can I- Can I go clean up first? I think I won’t be able to feel okay until I feel more put together. I’ll just be five minutes. But the company would be really good. I’m still- I’m still shaken up.”

The nervous ringing of her hands felt normal, but the smile, though sad, seemed odd. Was she trying to comfort Remmy? They stood back a little, and gave a short nod. “Y-yeah, of course! Of course. I um-- I’ll go wait in the living room?” they asked, glancing between Lydia and the end of the hallway. They couldn’t help but look back at the door, finding their thoughts drifting back to it. Wondering where it led. Why Lydia wouldn’t let them down there. Why Lydia would think someone was down there. They’d never thought to question her about it before, this was her house-- but since the break in, their thoughts had been drifting more. How could a house be safe if some doors weren’t meant to be open? They looked back at her, swallowed, stepped out of the way. “I’ll wait in the living room for you.”

#wickedswriting #para #chatzy #remmy #grimacing emoji

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deathduty · 4 years

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Cash Cab || Deirdre & Remmington

@whatsin-yourhead

Deirdre wasn’t in the habit of helping people--she especially wasn’t in the habit of helping human people. Yet, there she was, in front of Coffee Plus with a leather suitcase filled exactly nine-hundred-ninety-nine dollars. The one dollar shy of a thousand did make her feel a little better about the absurdity of the whole situation. Helping humans was beneath her, but so was working in an office and wearing clothes. This wasn’t a generosity, she’d explain as much if the person she was supposed to be seeing ever reared their head. Deirdre didn’t do generosities, her motivations were more simple; boredom, chaos, the desire to never again hear someone speak of how they ate instant ramen. If she had to depart with nearly a thousand dollars for that, then so be it. It hardly mattered to her.

Though it was about to be nine-hundred-ninety-nine dollars she’d take back if the stranger didn’t show. If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t their fault, Deirdre neglected to specify a time. But Deirdre was rarely honest with her faults, and she wasn’t the one missing out if the stranger didn’t come. She turned to leave, pressing a pristine heel to wet asphalt when a chill ran down her spin. Deirdre clenched her jaw, whipping around and fighting the desire to let the whispering of death overcome her senses---eagnaíocht, wisdom, as her mother called it. Having her eyes dip into blackness and seeing all the wonder that made her special, made her important. And the source of such delight came in the shambling form of someone and Deirdre grimaced. On a surprisingly quiet afternoon, in the exact spot where she’d agreed to meet a stranger, there were few other options to explain who this could be. “Hey,” she waved them over, forcing her posture to be straight as she fought her senses. Were she a nicer person, she might have offered a warmer welcome. She, of course, did not.

Sometimes, she did get the signals mixed---an undead for a fae, a fae for an undead. It was her reluctance to spend time with those of the alive-again variety that made telling the difference a skill she hadn’t honed to perfection yet. But this person, pale and pathetic-looking, didn’t feel like any thing alive. “You’re late,” her face scrunched up as they approached, as if catching the scent of something disgusting. “I have some money here,” she slapped the suitcase, a frown slowly twisting upwards into a grin. “But would you mind giving me your wrist first? This may sound weird but I just need to take the pulse of everyone that I meet. It’s an Irish thing.”

#rip sorry this sorta sucks #THE JUICE WILL COME SOON #love me envy #c: remmy #cash cab #para

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deathsdoorman · 4 years

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Like a Mothman to a light bulb || Cassie and Remmy

Six flags this really wasn’t. Technically this wasn’t even state fair level and definitely nothing to write home about, even by her own standards. The statue in the water in front of her looked like it had been in there long enough that the algae had formed one giant glob around it. If she looked, she’d probably see a few dozen eyes where the frogs had staked their claim. Its face was faring only slightly better with chips crumbling off of it and the paint cracking so its mouth formed into a goofy slack jawed look instead of the roar it had probably once been in the heydays. The whole grounds had the air of ‘last known sighting’ for anybody passing through if it hadn’t been for the handful of people milling around nearby.

The whole area seemed all but closed if she didn’t know any better. Everything looked well past its best except for the few points of interests left hanging on and shambling along like the undead. Now that was just sad. Cassie checked her watch again in the off chance it was running slow for the millionth time again and glanced around at her surroundings for any chance of a jumbo pretzel to tide her over while she waited. They might not even show up. Maybe it was just going to be herself and some other random she could make eye contact with long enough to get a picture and maybe take a shot on those teacups that looked as though they might spin fast enough to take themselves off from the track altogether. Make it worth her while. She did appreciate the cryptid names for everything. That was a small bonus anyway. Where else was she going to see a Chupacabra coaster in her lifetime? A short time later someone made their way close to where she waited and Cassie sent a friendly nod and a small tentative wave in greeting their way, hoping they were the right person and not some complete random, “you here for Mothman?”

@whatsin-yourhead

#like a mothman to a lightbulb #para #remmy

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problematic-ranger · 4 years

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Winter Walks || Jericho & Remmy

Wandering aimlessly in the woods was always nice, except for when you’re tired as hell and it’s nearly midnight.

Not being able to sleep properly was probably the worst part of being cursed with beasts blood. Jericho was exhausted from the full-moon night before but the beast had him restless, unable to sleep. So now he was out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, quietly whistling tunes under his breath.

Leaves rustled around him as five large wolfdogs padded next to him in a loose formation. He reached over, ruffling Kodlak’s ears and the animal leaned into his touch, looking up at him expectantly. He smiled down at them, the creatures amber eyes piercing in the darkness. The other animals stopped, waiting anxiously for his command.

“Go on, run.” He told them and the dogs bolted.

Jericho laughed, his breath puffing out in a huge cloud as he watched the huge animals run into the trees. They barked and snapped at each other as they played, running out of sight every now and then but always returning. Zooming through the dead foliage, they chased each other with a renewed energy. He was happy that he could give them this sense of freedom, an outlet for their wild energy. They were his pack. They had also proven to be invaluable in the field of search and rescue, he’d send them all out, each one taking a different direction as he told them to search. He had to put them in stupid vests that were bright and had ‘search and rescue animal’ on the side, but that was just to keep them from scaring the people they found.

He stopped for a few minutes, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath of cold air. He listened to them run and desperately wanted to drop form and join them. He just didn’t have the energy, not tonight.

@whatsin-yourhead

#para #para: Remmy #Remmy #Winter Walks

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danetobelieve · 4 years

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Dipping Out || Remmy and Winston

It had been a stressful week. That animal had attacked Winston’s on their way home from a party. They weren’t sure what the hell had happened that night. They’d obviously drunk too much. Stray rabid dogs didn’t breathe fire and there was no way that a blast of light could ever erupt from their hands. That was something that might happen in their D&D groups but this was the real world and in the real world there were scientific explanations that were rationally and logically sound. On top of that Winston was behind on school work, they’d spent way too much time working on internship work and they had been forced to stay late. Rubbing their eyes, they slid their laptop shut and placed it in its sleeve. After packing up the rest of their stuff and shouldering their backpack, Winston headed out of the library. Nodding to a few other fellow late night academics. They stepped out of the university building and blinked in the darkness. Campus looked surreal veiled in the shadow of the evening and Winston couldn’t help but pat their jacket instinctively for their car keys, before releasing discouraged that they weren’t there. That was when they remembered leaving them on the desk they’d been working at in the library. But to get back into the library they needed their key card which was on their car keys. Fuck. Sighing to themselves, Winston headed in the direction of the campus security desk, hoping someone would be working this late. Otherwise it would be a long walk home. Fortunately they spotted someone who looked like they might be a security guard and headed over. “Hey, excuse me … uh I was hoping you could help me?”

Nighttime was quiet. That was why Remmy liked nighttime. And you could see the stars at night. Another good reason to like the night. Remmy liked looking up at the stars at night, it was relaxing. But tonight, they were working. Moose trotted right by their side, just like he’d been trained, and Remmy walked in a stiff, straight line, just like they’d been trained. Being campus security, though, was boring. And Remmy didn’t get bored that often. But this school? This town? Remmy was bored. All the damn time. They barely even slept, up at all hours. Tiredness seemed to be a thing of the past. It was probably the new pills they were taking, but damn, did Remmy need a hobby. They almost wished they could work full time, but the state would take away their disability benefits if they did, and that 3,000 dollar check every other week was nice. Still...they almost wished something would happen. At least then they wouldn’t be so distracted by the stars. And as if on cue, someone was approaching them. A young looking fellow. They looked a bit mousy, almost nervous, and Remmy stopped walking as they approached and Moose sat next to them. “Oh, yeah, sure,” they said, “what uh-- whadda you need?”

The still night air was cold against Winston’s skin, a puff of frosty breath plumed in front of their eyes as they glanced at the security guard gratefully smiling in greeting as they spoke. “Uh …” they swallowed somewhat embarrassed by their absent mindedness, “I left my keys in the library and I can’t get back in without my key card which is on my key chain with the rest of my keys so I’m kind of stuck…” they laughed awkwardly and shrugged, “can you let me bac…” they trailed off as there was a clatter and a bin rolled over in the background. The sound of metal and plastic on concrete shattering the silence that had been the backdrop to their conversation. “Uh, what was that?” Winston asked as they felt their heart race. Why was their previously mundane life beginning to get so weird all of a sudden?

“Oh, yeah, I can--” Remmy started, but was interrupted, too, by the clanging sound. Maybe there was some merit to those rumors, after all, that something was prowling the campus at night. Remmy narrowed their eyes, stepping forward a little. Moose stood as well, and his ears pressed back as his body sunk low. Uh oh, that wasn’t a good sign. “Get behind me,” they said to the kid, stepping between them and where they thought the sound had come from. It was hard to tell sometimes, even with the hearing aid. But Moose was never wrong, and Remmy oriented themselves to face the same direction as him as a low growl came from his throat. Remmy squinted, as if that would help them see into the darkness. What greeted them was a pair of glowing red eyes, and that was it. This was usually the point fear would set in, but Remmy’s heart didn’t even hiccup. Slowly, they reached down for their temp badge, even slower held it out to kid. “When I say run,” they said quietly, “run.”

Winston was pleased to know that if they managed to survive the catastrophe that this night was apparently beginning to turn into, they would be able to get their keys. But they should probably be worried about other things. Their first clue was the dog. Winston wasn’t completely oblivious, they could tell something had caused it to tense up. Was it the thing from the other night? They had hoped that whatever it was had been scared away by whatever bizarre act of god had saved them that night. “You don’t need to tell me twice,” Winston said quickly putting the dog and the security guard between the noise. When the red eyes came into view, Winston felt their heart drop and their pulse race. This really wasn’t what they had planned for the evening. They had so much work left to do and instead they were taking a temp badge from a security guard who’s name they didn’t even know. “You’ve got to come with me.” They whispered insistently. This was terrifying but they didn’t know what the hell that was, if one of them stayed behind they could get hurt or worse.

Remmy stayed quiet, even as the kid whispered something to them. Moose’s entire body was stiff and alert. Remmy let go of the leader leash. The thing in the shadow, the eyes piercing through Remmy, started moving towards them. Remmy took a slow step back, ushering Moose to as well, pushing the student back. This was what their job was, protecting others. It always had been. Sure, they might just be a simple rent-a-cop right now, but that didn’t change who they were. If Remmy had been faster, or better, or smarter, then they’d still have a left eye. And be in Afghanistan. And have friends, and a squad. If Remmy hadn’t gotten hurt, none of them would have died. Remmy blinked, something hot and wet on their hand. It was Moose, biting them softly, pulling Remmy from the memory. The eyes were still staring at them, and if by instinct, Remmy knew it was about to pounce. “Run,” they breathed, stepping back again. Snapped loudly, drawing Moose’s attention away. “Run!” they shouted again, more firmly, turning to look back at the student. “Now!”

A thin bead of ice cold sweat trickled from the nape of Winston’s neck down their spine. They found themselves shivering gently as the eyes began to bob forwards through the night. Winston was sure that there was nothing natural that had eyes of that colour. Their heart raced as they were pushed backwards by the security guard. Taking a stumbling step, they moved away. Whoever this security guard was they seemed to at least have an idea of what they were meant to do, or they were really convincing at faking it. At least this made Winston feel slightly less worried about what might be about to happen to them. As the eyes crept through the shadows, Winston felt their body’s natural instincts take over and before Remmy had said run the first time they would’ve probably heard footsteps as Winston hurtled away. The second command to escape only reinforced their fear, but they paused to turn back as they reached a corner, desperate to make sure that they hadn’t abandoned their saviour. “You need to be running too!” they cried desperately.

Remmy didn’t need to be told twice. Once pull on Moose’s lead, and he was running in the direction of the building as well, Remmy hot on his heels. They gave the student a bit of leeway, making sure they were in front of them, always keeping themself between the kid and the pair of glowing eyes. Remmy was hesitant to call it a monster-- it was probably just a large, feral dog. It was definitely too big to be a coyote, but that was what all the locals said it must be. Shouldn’t animal control be out here, and not just extra security? Before Remmy knew it, there was something barreling by them. They stumbled, fell into the grass, but rolled and easily got back up. What greeted their eyes was a dog, with mangy fur and large teeth, getting ready to pounce on the kid. Not again. They couldn’t be responsible for someone else’s death again. Remmy grabbed whatever they could nearby-- a rock-- and hucked it as hard as they could at the thing. “Hey!” they shouted, “Over here!”

Winston hadn’t exactly ever excelled at sports. They had definitely been the type of kid that sat behind a screen with a keyboard and a mouse. Headphones keeping them in their own digital world. But now they were really regretting not making more of an effort with their fitness. Ricky was always trying to get them to work out with them, but they might not make it that long at this rate. Panting as they sprinted, they were pleased to see the security guard follow them, and then they were not pleased to see a huge dog with slobber dangling from its jowls shoot by and knock them down. Winston was nearly at the library, they were nearly at the pad for the temp badge and they would nearly have been at safety. But then they felt something collide with their backpack and they hit the floor hard. The dog snapping behind them as they rolled on the concrete beneath them. Then a rock came sailing through the air and hit the dog square in the ear. A very good shot if Winston did say so themselves. As they panted for air, they watched the dog circle around and face the security guard. Hackles raised, tensed and ready. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Winston said as they pulled their bag off of their back and started rifling through it.

Good, Remmy had its attention. Wait...Remmy had its attention. The snarling dog snapped at them and Remmy felt their body stiffen, screeching to a halt in their dash towards the kid. Moose was low to the ground, a fair distance away from them. He started running towards them but Remmy snapped at him, putting up their hand. His signal for stay. And Moose stayed. Just like he was trained. Remmy grappled for the baton they’d given them as their only defense (they weren’t licensed to carry a firearm, after all) and held it up, tapping it on the ground. “C’mon bud,” they said quietly, “C’mon...come get the stick.” Held it out, watching the drooling beast follow the stick with its eyes. But it didn’t seem interested, and after a moment, turned back to the kid. As if it could smell their fear, their worry. Their beating heart. “Shit!” Remmy sprinted forward again, Moose whined but stayed put. The baton came down on top of the dog just as it was snapping at the kid. “GO!” Remmy said as they struggled with thrashing teeth, biting hard on the metal baton, nearly crushing it. “What’re you waiting for!?”

Winston was a smart kid. They had always known that they weren’t dumb and both of their parents had repeatedly insisted that their resourcefulness and intelligence would be the thing that got them out of jams. So Winston, being a naive and innocent fool had decided that now was the moment to try and assemble a makeshift weapon. It wasn’t difficult. They had a can of deodorant at the bottom of their bag, they also had a lighter in their back pocket for whenever they snuck the occasional cigarette. Remmy had distracted the thing for long enough for them to get this all together. Of that they were certain. Except they were wrong, and they had their arm deep in their rucksack when the feral creature came after them once more. “I’m trying to help!” Winston screeched as they leapt into the air and scrambled away. Pulling the deodorant out of their bag they dropped their rucksack and prayed that their laptop wasn’t broken after the collision with the concrete. Now all they had to do was use the lighter and maybe they could scare this thing away. Wolves always hated fire in the movies right? They’d read somewhere that dogs were closely related to wolves, this plan had to be full proof!

“Just...get...away!” Remmy said as they struggled against the grip of the dog. Damn, it was strong. Moose was off somewhere barking now. He was getting closer and Remmy whipped their head around. “Moose! No! STAY! STAY!” There was no way in Hell they were letting this feral dog get near Moose. Or this kid. It was their chance to prove that they weren’t a problem. That they could help people. That it wasn’t their fault. Moose had stopped in his tracks, bouncing back and forth on his toes, anxious about the situation. Torn between obeying his commands and helping his clearly in distress owner. But Remmy’s attention was brought back to the rabid dog when it finally snapped straight through their baton, landing on top of Remmy with a loud THUMP! This would have been the part where Remmy’s breath left their chest, but they felt just fine. It didn’t even hurt. But red eyes bore down on them, snarled teeth reaching for their neck. Remmy pulled their legs to their chest, then launched them forward-- a tactic they’d learned from self-defense training-- kicking the creature off. It yelped, landed a few feet away, and Remmy scrambled back up, standing between the kid and the dog again. Moose was howling and barking, but staying in place. “If you’re gonna do something, do it fast,” they said, looking back at the kid.

Whoever this security guard was, they were a bad ass. Winston was really impressed. Somehow they managed to stop the creature with their baton and wrestle with it long enough for Winston to grab the lighter in their right hand and the deodorant in their left. Positioning it they heard the baton snap with a crunch and winced as they were sure the security guard would have their throat ripped out or something equally gruesome. But moments later and they were kicking the rabid dog off of them and looking at Winston expectantly. Winston could see their lips moving but they weren’t hearing whatever it was that they were saying. They knew that it was now or never, and so their thumb struck the flint and sprayed the can. Except the flame didn’t take. Sparking again, they hit the same thing. The creature had risen and was on it’s feet once more. Swallowing, Winston tried a third time and was finally vindicated as a flame erupted forward. The entire quad lit up as the fire danced forwards and Winston turned it to face the creature. They didn’t want to actually burn it, but they also didn’t want themselves or someone else to get hurt by this. “I don’t know how long this will work!” they exclaimed, already feeling the metal edge of the top of the lighter grow hot.

Click. Nothing. Click. Still nothing. Remmy was beginning to worry. And then, warmth. It flared up next to them, and the rabid dog howled, backing away quickly. As it did, Remmy finally signaled to Moose, giving a click of their fingers. He leapt forward and sprinted to their side, and Remmy snapped again, pointing for the building. “Doesn’t matter, we gotta go now while its distracted!” they said, grabbing the kid by the hand and yanking them away, dashing for the doors. Moose was ahead of them, leaping up the stairs. Remmy chanced a glance back, but the dog was still distracted, scraping off seared fringe from its nose. Reeling from the smell of burnt hair. “Almost there!” they shouted, pushing the kid in front of them. “Get the badge!”

Honestly, Winston was more adrenaline then human at this point. Breath catching in their throat as the security guard grabbed their hand, Winston bolted after them. “I won’t argue,” they replied honestly still somewhat taken aback by the entire situation, “I just can’t believe that actually worked.” They weren’t sure what they were expecting. Not for this to actually work out. The deodorant can exploding in the palm of their hand seemed to be a more likely outcome then that. As Remmy dragged them along and pushed them in front, they fumbled with the temp badge that they had slid into their back pocket. Their fingers felt like they were made of lead as they ripped it out of their pocket and slapped it against the side of the pad, hearing an electric beep and click as the door popped open. Wrenching it free, they held it open and stepped inside. “C’mon, c’mon, get in here and we can call animal control to deal with whatever the fuck that is.”

As soon as they were inside, Remmy shoved the kid back and locked the doors. They called for Moose, backing away, but when they went to look through the glass of the doors, the rabid dog had seemed to have disappeared, as if it were a shadow itself. Remmy felt a chill rise on their arms. “Get in the office,” they said, without even waiting for a response from the student. Something wasn’t quite right here. Moose was still stiff at their side, a low growl in his throat. And then they heard it. They didn’t even see it at first, but the loud !CRACK! As the dog threw itself against the glass of the door. “Fuck,” they cursed. “Get in the office!” they shouted, turning around. “GO!” Another loud boom as the dog threw itself again and again against the door, the metal groaning, the glass cracking.

This was a horror movie. Winston was convinced that they were in a horror movie. In the last week they had seen things that they were convinced were not real, from a gollum-esque creature to a dog that could breathe fire. Now they were being attacked by something that was apparently a dog, but had eyes as red as Satan’s skin and less patience then a child on Christmas morning. Wincing as they heard the glass crack underneath the force of the creature, Winston didn’t even have time to wipe the sweat from their brow as they winced at the noise. “Come with me then!” they exclaimed as they headed towards the office, throwing the door open and beginning to move furniture that they could use to barricade their way in. “We should call someone, maybe the police could help us?” Winston wasn’t sure if that was what they wanted, what if their dad was the one to turn up? What if they had to see them or someone else they knew get hurt?

Another loud boom shook the entryway and Remmy’s eyes unfocused for a minute. When they looked back up, Lieutenant Lancer and Private Mullberry were in front of them. “Stay back against the wall!” Lancer shouted. “Get Mullberry!” Remmy reached out to grab him-- their hand gripped Winston tightly, like a vice. They leapt up and yanked him into the office, slamming the door shut. “What now, Captain?” Remmy said out loud, pressed against the door. “We’re surrounded, wh-what do we do?” Remmy was shaking. When they glanced out the window, Taliban soldiers raced by the window and Remmy ducked quickly, pressing their back against the door, their hand across Mullberry’s chest, holding him back as well. Lancer was ducked under another window, and the others were checking the back room for a way out. “We have to lay low,” Remmy hissed, “we just have to wait out.” Their eyes glued to Winston, but they weren’t looking at them. They were seeing through Winston, to Dario. Seeing his face, his fear. One half of their vision darkened. Remmy could feel the bandage on their face again. They scratched at it, leaving a red mark down their cheek. “We just have to wait it out, right?”

Apparently there was more to this security guard then met the eye, Winston couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort alongside the pervasive terror from this situation. Maybe this security guard was going through more then Winston had initially thought and suddenly they couldn’t help but worry that they had to take charge. Whoever they were, this person had saved their life three times already and they felt compelled to help them here. “Stay calm,” Winston said trying their best to put on a confident facade and play along, “we can barricade ourselves in and call for help.” They stayed pressed against the wall. They could hear another crack, then another and the glass from the door that they had closed behind them hoping that it would keep them safe shattered and the large red eyed beast came crunching through. Glass sprayed everywhere and Winston felt their breath catch in their throat. Their phone was in their rucksack, which they had been forced to abandon on the quad after improvising a flamethrower. “Lay low,” Winston thought out loud, although from Remmy’s expression they wondered if they even realised they were there, “we can wait it out, someone will find us, we should barricade the doors though…” someone must’ve set off an alarm. Or something. They had to keep them safe and staying here was the best way to do that.

“We can wait it out,” Dario said. But that wasn’t right. He hadn’t said anything. He’d just looked at Remmy with wide, terrified eyes. Moose was whining and growling, nudging his way into Remmy’s lap. He started with a low grumble, the beginning of a bark. The rabid dog outside the door was sniffing around. Remmy chanced a look. The soldiers were gone for now. But they weren’t safe yet. If Remmy’s heart had been working, it would have surely burst from their chest. Their eyes landed back on the kid. Their face was flickering between a student with big, round glasses and Dario, covered in dirt and blood and sweat. Remmy pressed their palm to their one good eye. “Just…” they started, grappling in their pocket. Something was in their lap. Something soft. Moose whined again and Remmy took their hand away from their eye. “Moose….” Blinked again and the room fell back into place. They looked over at the kid with hazy eyes. “I--” but cut themself short when a loud growl came from behind the door. Moose stiffened to growl back but Remmy held up a hand and he instantly quieted. They glanced sideways at the kid, put a finger up to their mouth, swallowed. A minute passed, another. It sniffed the crack under the door, made a disgusted grunt, and then backed away and headed down the corridor. Remmy let out a long breath. “Call the police,” they mouthed, handing the kid their phone, before crouching up to look out the window again. “It’s clear for now but we should stay in here,” the whispered.

Winston had never wished for a gun more then they did in that very moment. That in itself was a pretty strange emotion for Winston because they were vehemently opposed to guns. But at least they would have something to defend themselves from the most pissed off dog they’d ever encountered. The good news was that their new companion appeared to have snapped out of whatever had been going on for them. They were now semi cogent or at least appeared to be. It was nice that the pressure wasn’t all exclusively on Winston now. Though they were pleased that there was someone else who could help with decisions again. But they knew that they had to get out of here. When Remmy told them to call the police, Winston took their phone from their hands and dialed 911. The phone rang once before the emergency responder picked up. “Hey Wendy,” Winston said quietly, after all of course they knew Wendy, she immediately asked what they needed, “Police and I guess Animal Control to the university, I’m uh… stuck and there’s a rabid dog that appears intent on eating us if it can so if you could be quick.” They handed Remmy their phone back and pressed themselves against the wall, hoping that the dog wouldn’t come back. “Hey, I know you’re the security guard here, but are you okay?” they were concerned about their new friend, “You seemed kind of out of it then…”

The office still seemed to be jumping in and out of Remmy’s vision, but their hand scrunched in Moose’s fur helped ground them in reality enough for them to focus on what the kid was saying. Good, police were on the way. All they had to do now was wait. Just...wait….Remmy screwed their eyes shut again, pushing the thought away. Moose whined again and they opened their eyes, giving him a quiet shush to let him know they were here. They were grounded. Remmy glanced sideways at the young student. “It’s...sorry...it just happens sometimes...I’m fine.” They glanced again back out the window. “I’m uh...I’m Remmy by the way,” they said, “and this is Moose.” Remmy gave Moose a good pat before giving another surveillance look out the window they were plastered under.

Honestly, as Winston cowered there, nursing their injured pride, they couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on. White Crest had always been a town of eccentrics but this was downright weird. Like something out of a tv show. What next? Swallowing, they looked at Remmy and were about to offer them some water before remembering that their bottle of water was in their rucksack which was still in the quad. “I’m Winston, uh, thanks, that was really cool of you. I don’t know if everyone would’ve taken their job so seriously but I really appreciate it.” They would’ve probably died without their intervention. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know because God knows I really owe you one.” No one had ever risked their life for Winston before.

Remmy was quiet for a bit, letting themself calm down, letting Moose’s presence and the sound of the kid’s voice calm them down. They let out another long breath. “Winston,” they said, “that’s a name you don’t hear every day.” Another check. Still clear. Remmy, somehow, could hear sirens in the distance. That sure was a fast response time. “What? Oh, uh-- it was nothing. Just...instinct, I guess. I was hired to protect people, so…” a shrug, “I just did what anybody else would do.”

Winston didn’t usually relish silence, but their breath was still ragged, their heart was pounding and they could feel the sweat pouring down their back. All in all, a few moments to themselves helped to compose themselves somewhat. Adjusting their glasses, they turned to Remmy and shrugged. “Named after my great grandfather,” they shrugged for a second and smiled, “I like it though. Feels unique.” They picked nervously at their jacket, repeatedly buttoning and unbuttoning a button on their sleeve. When they heard the sirens, they let a breath of relief escape and shook their head. “Either way, you still did it. So, thanks.” Winston wasn’t sure they’d have the courage to do the same.

Remmy let out a long sigh. It seemed like the danger had finally passed. Moose was still quite on edge, but he wasn’t whining and growling anymore, which meant the other dog was most likely gone. Remmy stood, put a hand up to Winston. “Stay here,” they said quietly, opening the door as silently as possible, looking around. After a minute, they sighed and opened the door completely. “We’re good.” They could hear cops running up the sidewalk, too. “Oh, uh-- I’m Remmy. And yeah, you’re right. I’m glad I was here to help you.” Like, really glad, but Remmy didn’t need to let them know that.

Looking curiously at Remmy, Winston had to admit that they hadn’t expected that to be their name. They weren’t sure what they had been thinking the name would be, but now that they’d heard their name they had to admit that it seemed to suit them. The cops ran into the university, stepping through the glass that the dog had been able to shatter before checking in on Winston and Remmy, as they began to ask them a plethora of questions, Winston couldn’t help but thank their lucky stars. “If you need anything let me know,” they said before heading towards the police car to be checked over more closely.

#wickedswriting #p: remmy #para #chatzy para #dipping out

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