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darkgodcomplex · 7 days

Text

Home Sweet Home

Wally Darling X Reader

CW: Manipulation, Obsession, Horror, Psychological Horror, Violence

Word Count: 11,754

AO3 Link

Wattpad Link

Here's the story:

You stand with hands on your hips, the sleeves of your baggy old college sweatshirt rolled up as you admire your new house. This is it... a new start.

Tying your hair back into a ponytail, you get to work. This might be your dream, but it doesn't come easy. The house you've chosen was cheap and definitely a fixer-upper. You leave the U-Haul with all your boxes parked in the driveway while you head up to the door.

You step inside, which immediately brings you to a dimly lit mudroom. The wood paneling is rotting. It's going to have to be replaced. You kick off your shoes onto the dirt-encrusted floor, leaning your hand on the doorframe. When you peel it away, it comes back filthy.

Ugh. You need a sink.

Going further into the house, you head into the kitchen. The outdated orange shag carpet alone makes you groan. Plus, who puts carpet in the kitchen?

You head over to the large metal sink set up on the bright yellow countertops to wash your hand of the dirt. You turn the handle of the faucet.

Nothing.

You turn it more. Then off again and then on again. Still, no water comes out. You sigh, wondering if the water was shut off or if the sink is just another of the busted household items this house will provide.

The living room offshoots the kitchen. What was once probably beautiful white and flowered wallpaper has now yellowed and peels off the walls in large stripes. Several windows are cracked, but it doesn't look like it's from force. You guess it's probably from improper care in the cold.

There's a bathroom. As you creak open the door, you see something dash out. You shriek, scrambling back wildly as you watch the mouse slip away into a crack in the wall. You breathe heavy. You're definitely going to have to go buy some mouse traps tonight. Still, you cautiously enter the bathroom. When you turn on the sink, you're relieved to find that it runs.

You wash the dirt away, then flick your wet hands at the sink. Even if there were towels in the bathroom, you wouldn't trust them to dry your hands.

There's an upstairs, which you expect that you'll set up your bedroom up there. The stairs themselves though are awfully steep and seem to be littered with staples that stick out from the floorboards. You opt to avoid that for now and continue to explore the ground floor. There's a small closet filled with spiderwebs and a door that leads to the basement, though when you flick the lightswitch no light turns on down there.

You sigh, leaning your head against the door to the basement. Can you really do this? This is going to be so much hard work. You've scraped together all of your savings for this?

There's one more door at the end of the hall. You discover it's an office. It's still rough around the edges like the rest of the house, but it has a large window that takes up almost the whole wall. It looks out into the neighborhood.

You stand in front of it, admiring the view. You can see many houses, each one brightly painted with jolly colors, their lawns perfect. Butterflies and hummingbirds float near the bushes of flowers that are planted under the window. The sky is a brilliant blue, clearer than you've ever seen it before. This place truly is paradise.

One thing the realtor really sold you on was the neighborhood. She said that the community bands together in a way that she's never seen before. Seeing it now, you can already tell that these people are special. How can they not be when they create such a beautiful environment?

Yes, this will be your painting room. Just standing here now you feel a rush of inspiration. You want to paint this moment. You rush to the front door, eager to grab your painting supplies before the mood runs out.

As you open the door, you jolt back, you had not been expecting any visitors. You have an entire welcome crew at your front door.

"Hello neighbor!" A man with a stunning blue pompadour steps forward, extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Wally Darling."

You gingerly take his hand, face flushing. He's clearly a charmer. His grip is firm but delicate.

"It's nice to meet you too."

"These are our other neighbors here, we have Julie, Eddie, Frank, Barnaby, Poppy, Howdy, and Sally!" Each one waves as he says their name.

"We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" Poppy raises up a cake she's been holding. In fancy cursive font, it reads:

Welcome Home.

"Poppy is our resident baker." Wally grins. "She's who you want to cater all your events!"

"Oh, Poppy, will you do my birthday!" Julie chimes in.

"Of course." Poppy laughs at Julie, then turns back to you. "Here you are, dear." She hands you the cake.

You smile, this is so sweet of them! It truly makes this miserable house better. "Thank you! Um, my place is a wreck right now, but please, come in."

They all shuffle into your kitchen. Luckily the previous owners left you a kitchen table and some chairs so that your guests can sit. You set the cake on the table.

"So where are you from?" Frank asks, taking a seat.

"I actually came a long way." You give a nervous chuckle. "Wanted to start fresh... I'm from a little town in the middle of nowhere."

"Oh that's where I'm from too!" Eddie bursts out excitedly, then hesitates. "Wait, no." Frank pats Eddie on the back.

"This place seems like it needs a bit of work." Wally notices, hands in pockets as he leans on the counter.

Howdy nods along with him. "I have a bunch of supplies in my shop if you ever need anything." He says. "On the house for a new neighbor."

"Oh, I can help too!" Sally says. "I work on my sets all the time!"

"That would be awesome!" You suddenly have a bit more hope for this place. "Only if it's not an inconvenience for you guys of course."

"It's no issue." Wally promises, looking down at you with his half lidded eyes. "It's all a part of being in the neighborhood."

"When are we having cake?" Barnaby suddenly asks, eyeing it.

"Oh, um-" You glance around the kitchen. "All my kitchen utensils are still packed in the car..."

Everyone puzzles over this for a minute. Then, Barnaby reaches out and takes a handful of cake. His paws smear with frosting and he brings it up to his mouth to take a bite.

"What are you doing!" Frank demands.

"No plates and no utensils." Barnaby shrugs.

There's another pause. Then, you reach out and grab a handful too. The cake is squishy and messy between your fingers, but when you bring it to your mouth, it's delicious. Slowly, everyone is scooping up the cake, laughing as they play with it in their palms.

"This is ridiculous." Frank says, crossing his arms. "I refuse to act so childish!"

"Aw, come on, Frank." Barnaby says, leaning over. "Oh, you got something on your face."

"What? Where-"

"Right... there." Barnaby smushes some cake onto Franks face, smearing it down. Frank sits in shock for a second, then reaches a finger up to wipe the frosting at his cheek. He sticks the finger in his mouth, sucking at the frosting.

"Well... at least the cake is delicious." He admits. Everyone laughs, but soon it devolves into everyone tossing the cake. Julie and Frank team up to get Barnaby, Sally tosses the cake in the air while Eddie tries to catch it in his mouth, and Howdy and Poppy try to down as much cake as they can. Wally still leans on the counter, watching the chaos with a small smirk.

You slide next to him, cake still in hand.

"Sure you don't want a bite?" You grin, intending to smash it on his face. Before you can though, he takes his index finger and swipes it through the frosting, bringing it to your face and gently smearing the frosting onto the tip of your nose. He brings his finger back to suck on the small bit of leftovers.

"You can have it all, my dear." He says, returning to his casual, laidback position.

Eventually, all the cake the gone. Whether more is in your bellies or streaked along your floor, table, and walls, you're unsure. It's a mess, but somehow it makes the old house feel less dreary than before. Your guests head home, promising to come help with the house.

"Oh!" Julie turns back as she leaves, grasping at your hands. "We're having a barbeque tomorrow. You simply have to come!"

"I don't know." You chuckle. "I still have to unpack."

"Well, please keep us in mind." She lets go, giving a warm smile. "I had a lot of fun today." With that, she turns and scurries down the steps.

It's Wally's turn next. He gives you another one of his signature warm smiles. It makes your stomach flutter.

"I'm just in the Home over there." He says, pointing towards a peppy little red house down the street. "Come down whenever you need me."

"Thank you again." You say. He gives a polite nod before stepping away.

When everyone is out of sight, you sigh. It's already sunset and you haven't done any unpacking. One by one you bring the boxes in. Then, you puzzle over how you're going to get your larger furniture inside. In the end, you decide you don't need to bring in the couch, the desk, or the TV in tonight and that you can ask for help tomorrow, but you have to bring the mattress in now. It's a struggle, but eventually you manage.

That's it. That's all the work you're doing today. You can take all your stuff out of the boxes tomorrow.

However, there is one box that you unpack, labeled painting supplies. You set up in your new office, putting the easel in front of the window. It's pitch black out now, so you decide to paint the quiet calmness of the neighborhood at night. It seems as if everyone is already asleep, there's not a single window light on down the street. You throw a canvas on the easel, digging through your oil paints to find the right ones.

You notice Wally's house is right near your window, you have a perfect view of it. It only adds to your inspiration, using the darkness as a metaphor in your painting. It's the mystery... the curiosity... the intimacy. Despite being in two separate homes, you can't help but feel like you're glimpsing into his soul by painting his house.

It's nearly three in the morning when you finally finish your painting. It's crude and hastily done, but you enjoy it's charm. As you lay it on the floor to dry, you notice an odd detail that you don't remember adding.

There's a single light on in Wally's attic.

_____

Despite promising yourself that you'll get completely unpacked today, by midmorning you're already exhausted. You take a break, steaming yourself a cup of tea. So far in your packing, you've only uncovered one of your coffee mugs, so you're left sipping out of a chipped mug that reads: I DESTROYED THE UNIVERSE AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS STUPID MUG.

In the very least, a couple of things are coming along nicely. You hesitate to unpack everything right away, since you'll surely soon be tearing up carpet and painting over walls, but the essentials are out. Still, there is work to do.

Although...

You glance at the time. The barbeque is going to be soon... should you go? While they were all very king to you yesterday, you really don't know any of them.

Maybe this is your chance though. You'd particularly like to know that Wally fellow a little more.

You've decided it. You're going.

You glance down at your work clothes, a ragged old sweatshirt and worn out jeans with paint splattered all over. You're going to need to dress better than this.

Which box are your clothes in?

You spend another while digging through boxes. While you don't find dress clothes, you do find your stash of mugs. You set them in the kitchen. Eventually, you opt to just wear your paint splattered jeans but with a hole-free tee shirt.

You make your way outside. As you exit the house, the warm summer air hits you and you take a deep breath in, enjoying the season. It's absolutely beautiful in this town. You're surprised no one outbid on the house in a place like this.

Walking along the street, you spot a picnic spot set up in Wally's backyard. It seems you're the last one to arrive. The delectable smell of fresh meat cooking on the grill catches your nose.

"Yay, you came!" Julie practically jumps into your arms.

You laugh, "I figured I could take a lunch break."

Two picnic tables are set up next to the large grill where Poppy and Barnaby flip meat patties and turn hot dogs. At one table is Sally, Howdy, and Wally while the other is Frank and Eddie. Julie leads you over, taking a seat next to Frank.

"Hello neighbor!" Wally pats the seat next to him. "Come sit with us."

You take your seat, giving a polite smile.

"How was your first night at your new home?" Sally squeals excitedly, leaning over the table.

"It was fine." You shrug. "A little uncomfortable since my mattress was on the floor because I haven't set up my bedframe yet."

"Oh dear!" Howdy exclaims.

"What?" Eddie asks from the other table.

"It's nothing, Eddie." Sally rolls her eyes at him. "So when do we get to come help! Oh! What colors do you want to paint your walls? I was thinking bright! We can magenta or chartreuse or turquoise or-"

"Easy there." Howdy laughs, patting Sally on the shoulder. "I think we'll need to do some repairs before we can get into the decor aspect."

"What needs to be fixed?" Wally asks you in his usual chill manner. "So that we can help."

You raise your eyebrows, mind scanning through the plethora of problems in that house. "The sink doesn't run, there are staples in the stairs, the basement light doesn't work, there are mice and god knows what else, and some of my windows are broken."

Those are just the ones you've discovered so far.

Howdy runs his hand along his chin, "Some of those don't sound too bad. We can take some pliers to the stairs, then hopefully the light just needs replacing and isn't an electrical issue..." He trails off in thought.

"Food is ready!" Barnaby announces. Poppy sets down plates while Barnaby hands out the food.

"Hotdog or hamburger?" Barnaby asks when he gets to you.

"Hotdog please."

Barnaby loads up your plate, "Say, how does the enthusiastic man eat his hotdog?"

"Huh?" You ask, staring up at him.

With a large grin, Barnaby leans in and whispers, "With relish."

You blink, taking a minute to process the joke. Then, you laugh.

"Thank you, I'll be here all week." Barnaby prides himself while sliding Wally a burger.

"When can I get you on stage with me, Barnaby?" Sally bites into her hotdog.

Barnaby shrugs, "Alas, my stardom is meant for small crowds."

Sally shakes her head, "One day I'll convince you."

"I'd love to see it."

You bite down on your hotdog. It's probably the most delicious you've ever had. Does everything in this town taste amazing or are it's residents just master chefs?

"We have to go play lawn games!" Sally yells as she finishes her food. "Wally, you're on my team!"

"What are we playing-"

Sally grabs Wally by the arm, dragging him out to the field before he can protest.

"Want to team up?" Howdy wipes his mouth with a napkin.

"I think I need to digest my food first." You tell him, patting your belly. "Sorry."

"All good." Howdy leans over to the other table. "Hey Edds, you and me?"

"You know it!" Eddie says through a mouthful of burger. He shoves the rest in his mouth, hurrying to stand up. Barnaby and Poppy team up as well, heading over to the group.

That leaves Julie and Frank. Neither seem interested in joining the games. You move over to their table.

"Why don't you just ask him, Frank!" Julie whispers as you sit down.

Frank looks at you nervously, "Julie! There's someone else here!"

Julie sighs, looking over at you. "You can keep a secret, right?"

You nod.

Julie looks at Frank expectedly. He sighs, hands fiddling with a book he keeps in his lap. "Fine."

"Frank likes Eddie!" Julie giggles excitedly. "And Eddie SO likes him back!"

"You can't say that for sure." Frank fidgets. "I was reading a study where they found that people are very unreliable in determining if they are being flirted with or not!"

"But it's so obvious!" Julie groans.

You glance over at the game being played. It seems to be some weird hybrid of croquet and tennis. Your eyes can't help but wander over to Wally, who is holding his mallet like he's never played a sport before. His hooded eyes meet yours, giving you a dazed smile. You quickly look away.

"I just want to wait." Frank shifts uncomfortably. "Just to make sure that he likes me."

"How many signs do you need?" Julie shakes her head.

Frank doesn't answer, he's too busy staring. You look over at where his gaze lands. It seems as if Howdy and Eddie won, as Eddie is jumping up and down in excitement and Howdy is doing an awkward victory dance. They lock arms, swinging around happily.

Eddie trots over to the picnic table, breath heavy from all the jumping. "Did you see that winning shot?" He taps his foot happily, eyes glancing around the table.

"Oh, I missed it!" Julie complains.

"It was a good shot." Frank looks up at Eddie. "Are you good at geometry? The angle on that shot was quite amazing to see."

Eddie gives him a goofy grin. "Angels? No, I'm not really religious." He pauses. "But if you want to talk about it more I'd listen."

Frank perks up, then starts on a long winded explanation about math. You take the opportunity to slip away.

Wally waves you over, making your stomach do a somersault. It seems Frank isn't the only one with a stupid little crush. The way you're practically drooling over him has you embarrassed, it's like you're a middle schooler again. You jog over.

"Want to play?" He asks, holding up a mallet.

"I thought you were in a team with Sally?" You glance over to see Sally standing with Howdy.

"She didn't want to be on my team anymore." He says casually, looking up at the sky. "Apparently I couldn't hit a brick wall even if I ran into it."

You can't help but laugh. Upon seeing you laugh, he laughs along too.

"Well I don't know how to play either, so we'll be quite the team."

"You two ready?" Sally swings her mallet over her shoulder. Howdy has his baseball cap on backwards.

You and Wally line up. What ensues is the most pathetic beatdown you've ever seen. Not only are Sally and Howdy more acquainted with the game, they're also just quicker and more agile than you and Wally. The two of you also have absolutely no coordination skills, constantly bumping into each other and dropping the ball. Wally just plainly face plants several times. Somehow, he always manages to laugh it off though.

When Sally scores the winning point, she leaps into the air, grabbing Howdy by the arms.

"Yay!" She squeals.

"Two victories!" Howdy grins.

Wally dusts the dirt off his clothes. He had tripped again. "I'm afraid I dragged us down." He says, tilting his head as he looks down at you.

You shake your head, "Did you see me out there? I think we're a perfect match." You blush, realizing what you've said. "I mean... perfect match as a team, of course."

"Yes." He echoes. "Perfect match." There's a hidden smile in his words.

You glance over to see Howdy and Sally still celebrating.

"I want to show you something." Wally diverts your attention back to him.

"Oh, should I get the others?" You turn, but Wally grabs your wrist.

"No, I want it to be the two of us."

You and Wally slip away. You feel slightly bad that you're abandoning everyone, but Wally assures you that it won't be for long.

"Right through here." Wally ducks through a small passage in the bushes. The greenery is absolutely stunning here. Are plants usually this green?

As you step from the shrubs, you're greeted with more stunning scenery. Before you are acres and acres of beautiful apple trees. The bright red apples dangle from each tree while fallen ones scatter the ground. It feels like something out of a storybook.

"I like to come here." Wally reaches up, picking you a nice plump apple and gingerly setting it in his hands. "I thought you'd like it too."

"This is so pretty." You stroll through the trees, fingers rubbing over the apple in your palm. This is something you'd like to paint.

"So you're a painter too?"

You pause for a second, wondering if Wally can read your mind. "Huh?"

"Your pants." He points and you follow his gaze. Ah, that's right, you're wearing your shitty painting jeans.

"Yes, I paint." You tell him, turning. He follows behind you as you walk, hands tucked respectfully behind his back. You feel like a fancy Victorian woman and he your eager suitor. "You do too?"

"I do."

"What do you paint?"

He ponders on this. "Still life, mostly." He shrugs. "Apples." He picks one up from the ground, then tosses it. "They're my muse, one could say."

"Oh I see, a muse." You tease him. "Most artists' muses are pretty women or handsome men, you know."

"Does a handsome apple count?"

You laugh, "No."

"Since you clearly have a strict idea of what a muse should be," He trots to catch up so that he walks by your side. "Who is the lucky fellow that is occupying your thoughts and paintings?"

"I don't have one." You tell him very matter-of-factly.

He shakes his head, smiling. "Perhaps you just haven't met someone handsome enough to be your muse."

"Perhaps." You smile back and finally take a bite of the apple. It's ripe and juicy.

"We should paint together." Wally shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Apples?" You ask, raising a brow.

He laughs, "No, not apples... well, unless you want to."

You hold your half eaten apple in front of you, pretending to study it like it's a piece of modern art. "I don't know... maybe I'm starting to see the complexity of it."

"Look a little harder." Wally nudges you playfully. "Maybe you'll finally find your muse."

"This apple is starting to look a little handsome."

"I knew you would eventually see my side of things." He watches as you take another bite.

"Tomorrow for painting then?" You ask. "Apples as our muse?"

"Sounds like a plan."

_____

Beautiful emerald green paint rolls onto the wall as you work. Somehow, it's even more stunning than the sample paint swatch. Your living room is going to look positively royal.

Beside you, Sally leans up, jabbering away, "-And then Julie had to come rescue me from out of the dumpster! Not only that, but the lawnmower was nowhere to be found!" She finishes her story, shaking her head as she applies more paint. "I still wonder what happened to it."

Howdy is on the floor, removing staples from where the ugly shag carpet once was. When he peeled it up, you were thrilled to find out that there were beautiful hardwood floors underneath.

"Do these crazy things happen to everyone in Home, or just you?" You ask with a smile. It's still funny to you how the town is named Home, just another example of how perfect the place is.

"Oh you should see all the trouble some of them get into." Howdy rolls his eyes. "It's only if you're looking for it."

"Have a little adventure, Howdy!" Sally teases.

Howdy pulls out a particularly difficult staple with a grunt, "I've had enough adventure, particularly from that Wally fellow."

You perk up.

Sally laughs, "Do you remember that time he tried to sew his own clothes and got caught in the sewing machine?"

"How did he do that?" You laugh along with her.

"The idiot thought that he had to sew them right onto his body." The corners of Howdy's mouth twitch up.

Sally continues chatting, "There's also this weird thing about Wally, be warned he-"

Howdy cuts her off with a cough, communicating something with his eyes that you don't quite understand.

"Err, I mean, he's just so naïve sometimes." Sally says.

"That's true." Howdy adds.

A silence falls over the room, the only sound being the occasional splash as you and Sally dip your rollers into the paint. It gives you time to wonder what Sally was going to say. Wally just gets so... what?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud, making you jump. Then comes more thudding. You blink, processing the noise for a second before realizing that it's knocking.

"Oh!" You set down your paint roller. "I'll go get it!"

You rush over to the door, slipping through the kitchen. You fling open the door, out of breath from your jog over.

It's Wally, dressed just as dapper as usual. No, he seems more dapper today. His necktie a little straighter and his hair more precisely groomed. The minute his eyes lock on yours he smiles, glancing down at your clothes.

"Painting without me?"

"Well, only my living room." You say, slightly flustered to find yourself in indecent clothes around him once more. You wish you would've been able to change into something nicer. "I wasn't expecting you so soon-" You glance at the clock you had hastily hung in the mudroom. "Oh wait, it's already noon? I'm so sorry, I meant to be ready-"

"It's no worry." Wally assures you, as casual as ever.

"Are you coming back?" Sally yells from the other room.

Wally tilts his head, eyes casting towards the noise. "Oh? There's someone else here?"

"Yeah." You feel bad about losing track of time. You sincerely were looking forward to painting with Wally! "Sally and Howdy are just helping me paint."

"Let me just step in and say hi."

You invite Wally in, leading him to the living room. It's nearly finished.

"Oh, hi Wally." Howdy plucks out another staple.

"You should've invited me, I would've done quite a nice job with the paint." Wally says casually. "It looks nice though, you all did a good job."

"It was kind of a last minute thing." You explain.

Sally sets down her roller, "We had fun doing it! You would've been more help by assisting Howdy with the staples."

"Hey! I can do it by myself-"

You laugh, "I really appreciate the help, guys."

"That being said, I think I have her claimed for the afternoon." Wally slides in. "We're going painting."

Howdy and Sally both take the hint.

"Oh! We can come back later and help." Howdy stands, stretching out his back.

"Bye!" Sally gives a cheerful wave as they exit. "We gotta hang out again!"

You wave back eagerly and they leave through the front door. You turn back to see Wally leaning on the doorframe to the living room, watching you with his relaxed eyes.

"You really did you a nice job on this living room." His voice is ever so soft.

You sigh, placing your hands on your hips. "This place still needs a lot more work."

"I know you can breathe some life into this place." Wally's eyes seem to sparkle. "Homes are very special, you know."

You shake your head, "Are we painting at the orchard?"

"Best place to find apples."

It's not long after that you and Wally have your easels set up in the orchard, plenty of fresh apples on display for references. Wally stands across from you, paint at the ready.

"I'm still not so sure that I understand apples as a muse." You tease, reaching up to tree to grasp an apple. It's just out of your reach. "I bet you think they're complex or something." You mock like you're some kind philosopher, " Apples... the thing that made Newton discover gravity, the so called forbidden fruit."

"Or maybe they're not." Wally reaches up and grabs the apple for you, placing it in your palm. "Maybe they're just apples. Simple."

You take a bite of it.

"I guess I'm getting too deep about apples." You say in between bites, smiling.

He smiles along with you, "Perhaps we should just paint."

"Let's."

You pour over your canvas, examining the half eaten apple with rigor. They are surprisingly difficult to get right. The small spots and stripes make the work tedious.

"How are you doing the shading?" You ask, trying to peek at Wally's work. He shies away, turning his canvas so that you can't see.

"You'll see." Wally smiles. "I want to see your own interpretation, no outside influences."

"Is my work going to professionally assessed?" You tease, still struggling over the shading. "Should I be nervous?"

"Oh, very nervous." Wally replies. After a brief pause, he speaks up again. "What do you think of Home so far?"

"I really like it." You tell him enthusiastically. "I love the views, I love the weather, I love the people."

"I'm glad you like it." He says.

"It's quite lucky I got that house too." You say. "It's insane that there were no other bidders when it's such a lovely place. I'm sure that someone with more money than me could've easily fixed it up and loved it here."

Wally merely smiles and the two of you fall into concentrated silence once again.

You fall into the trance of painting. It's not a feeling you're unused to. There's something about concentrating on the details that just makes you lose track of time. Eventually, you tune back in, taking a step back as you finish your painting.

You're proud of it, you think. You've painted a small, half eaten apple resting in the grass, the field of orchards sprawled out behind it. It's a simple but elegant painting.

"I'm done." You say with a breath, looking up to see Wally watching you carefully. "How much do you have left?"

"Oh, I've been done for a while." Wally beams at you. "I'm very curious to see what you've produced."

Wally saunters over to look at your canvas. His eyes scan the painting, noticing the small efforts you put in. There is truly something amazing about another artist studying your work.

"It feels... happy." He says. "A simple kind of happy."

You pause, then slowly nod. "That's how I feel here in Home, I think." You chew at your lip. "I like it."

Wally takes your arm, leading you over to his painting.

It's... you. You're leaning over a canvas, paintbrush in one hand and apple in the other. Your hair spills in your face and paint covers your clothes. It's clear where he put the most effort in though, in your face. Your expression is one of focus and concentration as you're hunched over, eyebrows scrunched and mouth slightly agape.

It feels happy.

_____

Wally walks you home after you finish painting. He gifted you his painting and you gifted yours to him. He seems quite proud to own your artwork, even if it inferior to his. You're in awe at his skill honestly.

"I had fun today, Wally." You tell him as you reach your house.

Wally lights up, "I had fun too." He lingers at the door for a second, hands shoved into his pockets and painting tucked neatly under his arm. "I'll see you again tomorrow?" He asks. "I'll even help with house, if you want."

You laugh, "That sounds great."

He flashes you a charming smile, "Goodnight, then." He does a half bow, turning and trotting away. You watch him go, heart pumping in your chest.

As you close the door behind you, you can't help but jump and squeal excitedly. This neighborhood is truly everything you dreamed it would be. Your house is coming together nicely, you've got wonderful new friends, and now you've got the attention of a handsome guy!

Nothing could ruin this.

You walk further into your house, stepping into the living room. It's a perfect start, you feel a sense of pride.

Picking up a hammer, you head to a free space on the wall, pounding in a nail. You hang your new painting up, stepping back to admire it.

You turn around, patting the doorframe of the living room before heading upstairs to bed. You've had a long day today and you're sure that tomorrow is going to be just as busy. Your bedroom is less put together than the living room, but the fact that you've made progress prevents you from feeling bad.

As you slip into bed, you hear an odd noise.

You perk up, pausing and listening for the noise again.

It almost sounds like footsteps.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you peek out from your room. The sound echoes up the stairs. It sounds like it's coming from either the kitchen or the living room. You grab the nearest heavy object, which just so happens to be a leg of an easel that you had taken apart for the move. It's a strong wooden beam. You hold it up high on your shoulder.

"Hello?" You call.

The only answer you get is more footsteps.

Your hands tremble as you make your way down, placing your steps carefully. Your mind races through a million scenarios of robbery, kidnapping, and murder.

When you reach the bottom of the steps, you decide to make sure you surprise this intruder. You come into the living room swinging.

There's nothing.

You stop and listen for a minute.

The noises are gone. No more footsteps.

You breathe a sigh of relief, running your hand through your hair. It wasn't even footsteps at all, must just be the old house settling. You laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you prepare yourself to go back to bed. Before you do though, you notice something amiss.

Wally's painting had fallen off the wall.

The next morning you're awoken by the sound of loud, unrelenting knocking. You groan, startled and tired. After the incident last night you hadn't gotten much quality of sleep. You know you're just being paranoid, but for some reason it really stuck with you.

You roll out of bed, quickly throwing on clothes and heading downstairs. You wonder if Wally has come to help you fix the house up more.

"Oh my god, hey!" Julie throws her arms around you, giving you a big hug. "I was worried you might not be home!"

"Well, here I am."

"It's break time!" Julie tells you. "No more working on the house, you and I are going out."

You laugh, "Well, I would have to start working for it to be considered a break-"

Julie tugs on your arm, "Pleaseee go out with me?" She blinks up at you with wide eyes. "We'll have so much fun!"

You glance back at your unfinished house, still reluctant to leave. Yet, you grab your coat anyways, stepping out into the sunshine. "Where are we going?"

Julie lights up, "You'll see."

You're lead through the neighborhood. As you walk, you're given the full tour by Julie.

"There's the supermarket." She points. "Oh and that there is Barnaby's house. He's still sleeping at this time of day."

You check your watch. It's nearly noon already.

"That's my house!" She points at a lovely flowered red house. "You're invited anytime, just so you know."

"How long did it take you to fix that up?" You ask, marveling at how elegant yet simple it is.

Julie thinks on it for a second, "Fix it up?" She asks. "It's just... always been that way."

You scrunch your face up, "You bought it like that?"

"Bought it...?" Julie looks up, considering this. "I think... I've always lived here."

She seems confused, so you decide not to press it any further. Has Julie lived here her whole life? Where is her family?

That's when another odd thing strikes you. The entire town consists of single individuals that live alone in homes. You've never heard of such a thing. Sure, a few individuals here and there in homes is normal, but an entire town?

You notice Julie has gone quiet. It's an unusual change from her normally peppy self. You fear that maybe you pressed into something personal.

"This is the post office." Julie gestures, suddenly speaking up again. Her previous demeanor is forgotten now and her lively energy is returned. "That's where Eddie works."

You notice another familiar face poking about.

"Frank!" Julie bounces up and down excitedly, waving her hand.

Frank jumps from the sudden noise, head swiveling to find the source. He relaxes slightly when he sees it's only Julie.

You and Julie trot over to him.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, chin raised pompously.

"What are you doing here is the real question." Julie teases. "Have you come to see Eddie?"

"No!" Frank tenses, eyes looking around nervously. "I just have a letter to send and wanted to make sure that it got here. Mailboxes and so unreliable-"

"Uh huh." Julie can't control her grin. "Sure, Frank."

Frank opens his mouth to say something else, but Eddie comes around the corner just as he does. You thought that Frank already looked nervous, but that is nothing compared to how he looks as he and Eddie make eye contact.

"Oh hey Frank!" Eddie gives a toothy grin, cheeks scrunched up and head tilting to the side.

"Eddie!" Frank holds his envelope to his chest. "I-I've been looking for you!"

Eddie seems to perk up, "You have?"

"Yes!" Frank shoves out the letter. "I just needed to mail this."

"Oh." Eddie takes the letter. "Frank, you know I could've picked it up at your house, right?"

"Well, he wanted to hand deliver it." Julie nudges Frank playfully and receives a glare in return.

"I'll take good care it, Frank, I promise." Eddie tucks the letter into his pouch.

Julie coughs, "Well, we better get going, right?" She looks at you.

"Uh, right." You echo.

"You know, Eddie, I think Frank was talking about lunch?" Julie says. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was hungry! You two should go eat somewhere!"

"Julie!" Frank hisses.

"That sounds fun!" Eddie inputs.

"Perfect!" Julie grabs your arm. "Have fun guys! Bye-"

The two of you quickly stumble away. You can't help but laugh at Julie's blatant matchmaking attempt, Eddie's innocent obliviousness, and Frank's adorable embarrassment. Julie giggles along with you, leaning on you for support.

When you're both far enough away, Julie speaks up, "Do you think Eddie will ever take the hint?"

You shrug, "Only if Frank tells him directly."

"Like that'll ever happen." She lets go of your arm, standing up straighter. "Oh! We're almost there?"

"There?"

"The reason I brought you out!"

"Oh." You reply, following behind her as she picks up speed. "I thought the tour was why you brought me out here."

"Don't be silly!" Julie suddenly stops. "I brought you out here for this!"

You're not quite sure what you're looking at. The bright summer colors of Home are here. They are present in the brilliant green trees with fresh fruit and in the yellow dandelions and white daises and baby blue forget me nots. You've always adored the vividness of the neighborhood, but here...

It just stops.

It's like there's a line drawn in the forest. The fresh flora wilts and dies along it, the line marking there on out as dead.

"Was there... a fire?" You ask.

"No fire."

Even the sky looks bleaker on the other side.

You step back, "Some sort of parasite?"

"No parasites. No fires. No droughts, floods, locusts, or diseases."

You step forward again, gaining a bit of courage. Slowly, you reach out, sticking it beyond the line.

Nothing happens. You feel normal.

"Why?" You finally ask. "Why is this here?"

"I can't say."

When you finally return to your house, it's later than you would've liked. It's past dinnertime and you haven't even eaten yet. As you approach, you notice a familiar face sitting on your porch.

"Hey!" Wally stands quickly, brushing off his pants. "I've been waiting for you!" He adds with a playful tease.

"I like to play hard to get." You prod him back, unlocking the door and welcoming him in.

His large eyes flick over you. You feel like you're being examined. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry, Julie took me out on a tour of the town." You tell him. "I saw the market, the post office, Barnaby's house-"

"And you stayed in town the whole time?" He presses. "I looked for you, I didn't see you."

You chuckle, "You didn't have to come searching for me, I'm sure you have more important things to do." You avoid the original question. You're not sure why, but you feel like the forest is a secret between you and Julie.

"You are the important thing." Wally follows behind you as you clean up the kitchen.

You pause, then quickly resume your work. "Am I?"

As you reach up to tuck a mug into the cupboard, Wally takes the mug from you, reaching up with ease to place it for you, "I would've imagined that you would've taken the hint by now, but it seems that I must take the liberties myself."

Wally leans on the counter and faces you, "Do you find me attractive?"

You're not sure what to say to that, you sputter out nonsense, "Well, err-"

"I find you attractive. Every part. I find your quips and teasing attractive, your laugh and the way your cheeks scrunch up when you smile, the curve of your lips and the paint droplets on your pants." He takes a second to breathe. "And honestly, there's nothing more in the world that I would like to do right now than to help you paint your house or whatever else you would ask of me."

You wait a moment, processing his words.

"Whatever I ask of you?"

He looks earnest, "Whatever."

You tug him into a kiss, closing your eyes. He seems surprised at first and the kiss is slow and hesitant, each of you too afraid to do much. You're slightly surprised, for such a smooth talker, Wally doesn't really seem to know what to do. Has he kissed someone before?

You decide to take the lead. His lips are soft and gentle as you mouth over his bottom lip, tongue sticking out to play around.

Wally's hands find their way to your waist, gripping you tight as if he's checking that you're real. His thumb rubs small circles at the small of your back.

He seems to mimic you, tongue poking out to prod at yours, eventually making it's way into your mouth to feel around. He's gentle, but he is slowly growing more confident by the second. Wally tugs your waist in tighter and tongue going deeper into your mouth almost possessively.

The intensity of the kiss escalates quickly and you find yourself having to pull away to catch a breath. You open your eyes to find him staring down at you, his normally half lidded eyes wide open and exhilarated, a faint blush scattering his cheeks.

"I liked that." Wally says quietly. "We should do that more often."

_____

Life is great.

You've gotten quite a bit done on the house, mostly with the help of all the neighbors. The living room, kitchen, and bedroom are all finished and you've honestly never felt more at home. When you go to the supermarket, Howdy always greets you with a warm hello and a free sample of whatever the special of the day is. In the mornings, Eddie stops by for idle chat as he brings the mail. Whenever Poppy makes a new treat she comes over to give you some. Even with just a stroll through the neighborhood you're always greeted and smiled at by the other neighbors.

You sit in your backyard, cross-legged in the grass with your canvas propped up awkwardly on your legs. Your brush glides along the canvas, curving around to get the details just right. You bring the brush up to your face for a moment, biting on the wooden end as you think.

"You look cute when you're concentrating."

You blink up in surprise to see Wally leaning on the side of your house, arms crossed.

"How long have you been there?" You smile at him, setting down your canvas and standing up.

Wally merely shrugs with a grin. You run over to him, throwing your arms around his neck. He grips onto your waist, lifting you up and spinning around once before setting you back down and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. You hug him, taking a moment to enjoy his masculine cologne scent before pulling away.

Yes, life is great. Wally Darling is yours.

“I was thinking you and I could spent the day together.” He hums.

You nod, “Let me just clean up my painting supplies-“

“Let me help.” Wally follows, carefully taking your paintbrushes as you grab your wet canvas. He trails behind you as you go inside, setting up your canvas to dry in your art room as Wally washes the brushes in the kitchen sink.

When you return, you find Wally with his head tilted and eyes cast towards the ceiling, frozen at the kitchen sink. He doesn’t seem to notice your presence.

“Is… something wrong?”

Wally blinks, snapping out of it and turning his head to smile at you warmly. “No, of course not.” He replies. “I was just thinking.”

“Oh?” You ask, walking up beside him as he finishes washing the last brush.

“You haven’t been to my Home yet.” His half lidded eyes cast towards you.

“No, I suppose I haven’t.” You say. “Odd, considering you’re over here all the time.

Wally chuckles, “Well, would you like to go?”

Before you know it, you’re inside Wally Darling’s house. It’s somehow exactly how you expected it to be. Everything is neat and tidy, carefully placed and well maintained. There’s an old charm to the house, as if it stepped out of the 60’s.

“It’s weird being in here.” You say, wandering through his living room. There’s framed photos on the walls of Wally and his friends. You take the time to examine them.

“Why so?” Wally watches you with warm amusement.

“It just feels so…” You stare at a picture of Barnaby holding Wally in a tight hug. Wally looks like he’s being squished. “Personal.”

Wally laughs, “Well, it is personal.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder as you continue to stare at his pictures.

“No, it’s different.” You tell him. “Somehow it feels like I’m getting a glimpse into your soul.”

There’s a pause.

“Well maybe you are.”

Wally lets go, turning and heading up a set of stairs. “Let me show you my painting room.” You follow after him.

He leads you to a large, beautiful room. With the high ceiling and long window sill big enough to lounge on, the room looks elegant. Coupled with the mass amount of paintings lining the walls and easels of the room, it looks like a modern art gallery.

“Wow, Wally.” You stare at his work, secretly jealous of his technique.

He seems proud of himself. “I think-“

There’s a sudden loud crash from downstairs. You jump.

Whipping your head around, you turn back towards the door. “Did something fall?”

Wally merely frowns. “Yeah. Something fell.” He says, turning his eyes up.

“Oh.” You say. Clearly Wally seems to not be concerned with it, so you won’t be either.

“Why don’t we go back downstairs.” Wally suggests, taking your hand.

The two of you settle down on the couch. You giggle and tease Wally for his old school television. You swear that thing probably is still in black and white.

As you chat, you both slowly inch closer together. It starts with a simple finger brushing at your thigh, then an arm is popped around your neck, and then finally Wally is leaning in and kissing you.

You let yourself be taken by the kiss, planting your hand at the back of his neck and brushing your finger along the base of his soft hair. Wally places his hand on your cheek and you press into it, tilting your head more into the kiss.

Your chest flutters, eyes blinking open for half a second so that you can stare at him. To your surprise, his eyes are already open and watching you. He squints happily at you, smiling into the kiss as he deepens it, tongue pressing further into your mouth.

Wally’s other hand trails down your arm, causing goosebumps all the way. He flicks his tongue against the sensitive roof of your mouth before retreating back.

You feel words pressed against your lips but you can’t hear them. They’re hardly even a whisper, more like he is just mouthing words.

No, he’s repeating something. You try to understand him.

“I love you.”

You blink, pulling away from him.

“I love you too.” You whisper.

Yes, life is great.

Until it isn’t.

_____

Lightning cracks, illuminating the room as you finish up moving some furniture around. You stand with your hands on your hips, staring out at the freshly decorated art room. Finally, the work on your house is all done.

You could hear the wind beat about outside and the hard rain hit your windows. There was something odd about it all, though you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Storms are natural, after all.

Though, there hadn't been a single storm since you moved in.

Walking through the finished halls of your house gives you a sense of accomplishment. Patting the wall, you glance at the clock.

It's nearing time for you to meet up with Wally. The two of you had planned a date out to the pond to feed ducks, though you suppose that the rain ruined those plans.

You near the window, watching the dreary sky. It's midafternoon, but it looks like it's the middle of the night. Your eyes sweep over the neighborhood, making eye contact with Wally's house.

Wait, no, not eye contact. It's a house, it doesn't have eyes.

Still, the lights are on and now you have this odd feeling in your stomach.

As you look back up at the sky, you think the clouds don't look like regular rainclouds. They seem a sickly black color and you remember the forest that Julie had showed you. The dark clouds remind you of the baren land.

Is this a sign it's spreading? The lump in your stomach grows heavier. You feel dumb for forgetting about it.

You glance at the clock again. Perhaps there's enough time to check before Wally arrives. You rush to your mudroom, tugging on your rain coat and rubber boots.

As you trek through the rain, you wonder if you should've just stayed in your house. The wind moves you about, making you stumble over your heavy boots. The rain blows sideways, rendering your raincoat nearly useless as you're soaked anyways.

It's never rained this bad in the neighborhood. Actually, now that you think about it, it's never rained at all in the neighborhood.

Soon enough you reach the edge of the neighborhood, where the rot stretches as far as you can see. You were right, it seems to be spreading. The rot has crept forward, consuming what was once a small woodsy park path.

You stare down at where the sidewalk ends and the forest starts. Why does the sidewalk stop?

Where is the road to lea-

"What are you doing out here?"

You startle, flipping around quickly. Wally stands in his usual attire, his navy hair and knitted overcoat soaked from the rain.

"I just wanted to explore in the rain." You lie. You don't even know why you lie. You trust Wally.

Right?

Wally glances towards the forest, scrunching his brows, "Did somebody tell you something?"

You quickly shake your head, "No, I was just walking around and... I found this." You gesture toward the forest. "What is this, Wally?"

Wally frowns, looking at you, not the forest. "It's been so warm lately, there was a small fire that lit up the grass around here." He looks up. "We really needed this rain."

It's a lie. Your stomach turns in knots. Wally is lying to you. This rot has been here a while. If it had been a fire, new green growth would've sprang up ages ago.

"We should get out of this rain." Wally says, water dripping down his face and arms. "So much for feeding ducks, huh?" He extends his hand.

You take it, though hesitantly. Before, you hadn't suspected that he would be a part of this, but now nothing makes sense.

"Wally, how did you find me out here?" You ask as you walk with him. "We were supposed to meet up at my house."

"Hm?" His eyes cast upwards as he thinks for a moment. "I suppose I just... had a feeling."

This makes you even more wary and you feel bad for it. You love Wally, and yet you're now doubting his motivations. You don't even know how he would have anything to do with the forest's color.

You and Wally arrive back at your house. You grab a towel for him to dry off with and he rubs it over his plush skin.

Plush skin?

You hadn't thought about it before, but isn't that weird? You look at your own hands. You are definitely not plush.

Wally throws the towel over his head, wringing out his hair. You stare at him and the more you look, the more unsettled you get. He has no nose, is that normal? Something in the back of your mind is telling you it isn't.

Wally's intense eyes peek from behind the towel. "Everything okay?"

"Yes." You shake your head, turning away. "I was just watching you."

He gives a lazy smile, eyes relaxing. "Well, I like watching you too."

You give a laugh, "Thanks, Wally."

He stands, walking over and hugging you from behind. Before, it used to feel gentle and safe, but now it feels like entrapment. He nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses.

"What shall we do now that our plans have been ruined?" He smiles, hot breath on your neck.

You pull away from him, "Actually, I'm feeling a little tired. Maybe rain check?"

Wally's face falls, then suddenly lights back up again, "We could nap together-"

"No, no, I mean, I just want to be alone right now." You tell him. "I just... had a rough night's sleep."

Wally stares at you for a long moment, wide eyes peering into your conscience. Finally, he smiles, "Oh, no worries, neighbor." He hands you back your towel. "We'll do something tomorrow when it's less rainy, right?"

"Right." You nod, watching him head to the door.

Wally grasps the doorknob, turning to you at the last second, "Oh, one more thing." He leans towards where you stand in the kitchen doorway. "I wouldn't go exploring in the forest anymore, too many nasty things out there, if you ask me. Wouldn't want anyone getting hurt." He gives a light smile, opening the door and heading out.

You watch him go, hurrying to the window. You keep your eye on him until he is home.

Something is not right in the neighborhood.

You throw your rain attire back on, determined to get to the bottom of this. You take a deep breath, patting the side of your house.

"We got this." You whisper.

As you step outside, you notice that the rain seems to have worsened. You hold onto the hood of your raincoat, pushing past the wind. When you reach the edge of the forest, you don't stop. Instead, you trudge forward into the rot.

It's squishy against your feet, with the occasional odd lump of hardness. Everything is wilted and scorched. You wonder what could possibly be the cause.

As you wonder, you start to really think about the circumstances in the neighborhood. You lift your hand again, staring at it.

Flesh. You have flesh. Not felt or feathers or fur.

How did you move into a neighborhood with such creatures?

No, wait, how did you move into the neighborhood at all?

You bought the house... but you don't remember any real estate agents or documents.

You... you haven't even been working. What have you been doing? You've just been playing around the neighborhood. In fact, nobody in the neighborhood seemed to have jobs.

Your brain feels fuzzy. None of this makes sense.

You're still hiking through the decay, finding nothing of note. That is, until you see green in the distance. You perk up, sprinting forward.

Yes, there is green grass ahead. Whatever the decay is, it isn't very big luckily.

As you get closer, you furrow your brow.

Somehow, you've ended up on the other side of the neighborhood.

How?

You step onto the grass, realizing you've ended up by the post office.

That doesn't make sense. You walked away from the neighborhood, there's no possible way you ended up on the other side of it.

Perhaps you got mixed up. You turn around, jogging through the diseased wood.

This time, you end up near Julie's.

How do you walk away from something and end up back at it?

Walk around the world.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Wally wanted you away from the forest for a reason. This is his world, and you're in it.

You sprint up to Julie's house, pounding on the door. "Julie!" You yell. "Julie!"

You get no answer, so you move over to the window, shielding your eyes against the glass to see inside.

There's no one there.

You tug your raincoat closer to your body, looking up at the ever blackening clouds.

You have to confront Wally.

Back at your house, you prepare to face him. You're not sure what to expect, but you want to be ready for anything. You dig through your belongings, procuring a baseball bat and a box cutter.

Your house whines against the wind, creaking and settling in the powerful storm. You sit for a minute, putting your head in your hands. All this work on your house, all this friendship, and is any of it real? Nothing seems to make sense. Why? Why is any of this happening?

As you leave, you sigh.

"I'll be back."

The wind catches on your house and it whines louder.

When you arrive at Wally's house, you go to knock on the door only to find it already open. You press it open, keeping your guard up as you grip the baseball bat.

"Wally?" Your voice echoes off the walls as you step inside. It seems awfully dark in Wally's house.

Lightning cracks, illuminating the front windows of Wally's house. For a moment, they are eyes, observing you. The lightning then leaves darkness and you hear the front door slam shut. You turn back towards the door, tugging on the doorknob only to find it locked.

"Caught the snitch."

You turn to see Wally illuminated in the darkness, a figure hanging over his head.

It's Julie. She hangs from strings, her limbs twisted and broken. Her jaw hangs unnaturally slack, face bloodied.

"In fact, I caught everybody." More lights irradiate from the darkness, casting large shadows on the wall as they illuminate the bodies of the other neighbors, all in similar states.

Wally walks towards Howdy, "Too much talking lately, really a shame. I wanted to have you willingly."

You stand frozen, hands still on your baseball bat.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He laughs. "Plus, they're fine." He gestures towards the bodies on strings above him. "I just took away their will. Clearly they couldn't be trusted with it on their own." He clicks his tongue, shaking his head disapprovingly.

The edges of your eyes crease up. You still don't understand.

"Come, let me explain." He gestures to the couch. You don't move. "Please, sit."

You don't.

Wally looks up. "Home?"

To your amazement, a chair glides over, moving behind you and slamming into your legs, making you tumble down onto it. It slides over to where Wally now sits.

You clutch the edges of the chair in fright.

"That's Home." Wally explains. "Home is... the source of it all. A manifestation of desire, if you will."

You swallow, "It's alive?"

Wally grins. It's wider and realer than any grin you've seen before. "Of course." He crosses one leg over the other. "It's alive just like you and me are alive."

"But you're plush." You tell him.

"I'm built on the desires of thousands of young children across the nation that watched my show." Wally looks nostalgic. "Oh, you were such a dedicated little viewer, you know that?"

"Huh?" Show? What is he talking about.

"You used to sit every night in front of the TV, you know that?" Wally continues. "And you would say, 'Okay, Mr. Wally, show me how to draw!' I taught you everything you know about painting."

... Yes, the show. How could you forget? The theme song starts to play in your head. You loved that show as a kid.

"You loved me so much." Wally sighs. "And I loved you, and then you went away."

"I was an adult." Of course you went away, you couldn't sit around watching TV all day. You had a job, you had a family... your family! How long have you been gone? "I had responsibilities."

"I desired you." Wally looks at you desperately. "You desired a place you belonged! I watched you, how you struggled to fit in, the long hours at work, the family arguments. I made it all go away! You've been so happy-"

"They were struggles, but they were my struggles!" You shout, standing up. "You don't get to decide for me!"

Wally sighs, head falling to the side. "See, this is why I wanted you willingly." He casts his hand up. "Oh well."

You feel tightness tug at your arms. No, it's tugging at your bones. You look, thin wire strings protrude from your arms and spring from your legs, pulling you up towards the ceiling.

"I'll just take away your free will for a while." Wally runs a hand through his dark hair. "Then you'll want to play along."

You can feel the strings scraping against your bones under your skin. You struggle against them, getting yourself tangled in the process.

"What shall we act out first?" Wally stands, pacing around the room. "We did have that pond date-"

You twist, reaching your hand towards your back pocket, where the box cutter is stashed. It's an awkward reach, but you manage to grasp it, pushing it open with your thumb and slashing at your strings. You fall to the floor, grabbing the bat and taking off running for the door.

Wally clicks his tongue, "You were so docile before you knew the truth. I'll have to stamp this disobedience out of you now."

You ram the baseball bat into the door, denting the doorknob until the lock falls apart and you can run out the door.

There's no exit. The forest loops. Surely there must be a way out, right? Where, where...

Wally laughs, "Where are you running to? There's no where to go!"

You don't know, but away from here. You sprint, running towards the only place where you feel safe, your house.

"My little viewer." Wally sounds agitated now. "Enough games. If you come back now, I'll go easy on you."

Over your dead body. You're out of breath by the time you reach your house, slamming the door shut and locking it, back pressed against the door as you pant and Wally begins to bang on the door.

Surely there must be something of use to you. Think, think... where is the exit out of this place?

You hear Wally start to kick down the door. It cracks and starts to splinter with each kick.

One of the neighbors' houses? No, they might've said something.

Wally is stronger than you thought. With a final kick, your door crumbles, swinging open. Wally looks even more deranged now, eyes large and locked on you.

"My dear," he breathes. "Let's be reasonable, come back with me."

He extends his hand. When you don't take it, he frowns, moving forward. He grasps you by your face, fingertips digging bruises into your cheeks as he pulls you closer.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

You press your hands against his chest, trying to push him away. This only angers him more. Wally lifts his hand, readying it to fall down on your face. You close your eyes, preparing yourself for the eventual hit.

It doesn't come.

You open your eyes to see Wally's hand still in the air. Except... there's a string attached to it. Wally's expression has changed from anger to fear, he stares at his arm as another string appears on his opposite arm. You back away from him.

Wally looks at you, "Please, don't-" He reaches for you, only to have his hand yanked away before he can.

It's... your house. It dawns upon you quickly and more strings appear from Wally's skin. He struggles, the strings dragging him.

"Please, please, I can't-"

You look up at your house, reaching and patting the wall. "Take him away."

"Please-"

Wally screams as the strings scratch against his bones, dragging him kicking and screaming towards your basement.

_____

"Oh, I have some drinks in the fridge, let me grab you one!"

You weave your way through the bustling party, dodging Barnaby as he throws grapes in the air and catches them in his mouth and sliding past the way-too-handsy Frank and Eddie.

You're celebrating your finished house, and the party is going spectacularly. Two guests still haven't arrived, but you're not too worried.

You snatch up glass bottles of soda that you bought at Howdy's shop earlier that day and toss one to Sally, who gracefully catches it.

"You've put a lot of work into this place." Howdy says with a smile, leaning on the counter.

You glance over, "Yeah, I couldn't have done it without you guys though, thank you all for your help."

"Oh, you did most of it!" Sally waves her hand.

"It's just what neighbors do." Howdy shrugs.

The doorbell rings and you rush to the door, throwing it open to reveal Julie, holding a small present in her hands.

"Sorry I'm so late, I had to wrap your gift!"

"You didn't have to get me a gift!" You laugh, throwing your arms around her for a big hug. She squeezes you tight before you both pull away from each other.

"No, I really had to." She holds out the gift. "After everything you've done for all of us."

You gently take the wrapped gift as she steps into your house, waving at everybody.

"Hello everybody!" Julie squeals, making her way over to nudge Frank playfully. "And hello, Frank and Eddie!"

Frank turns a deep red, shying away. "It's really nothing-"

Eddie gives a wide smile, gripping Franks hand tighter, "Almost losing all your control makes you confess things."

Julie gives a light smile, "Well, we never have to worry about that again."

You politely set the gift on the counter for later, turning back towards everybody. "Then I propose a toast!"

"We'll need bread for that." Barnaby grins, nudging you playfully. You shake your head with a laugh, gently shoving him away.

Everyone raises their sodas, letting you speak.

"To freedom, to free will, to all of us. It's what lets us choose our paths, chase our dreams, and live life to our own terms. To making our choices, learning from our own mistakes, and creating our victories."

Everyone cheers.

"Most importantly, to you." Julie adds in, pointing her raised glass to you. "You've made this neighborhood a wonderful place."

This makes everyone cheer louder. You bump glasses with everyone, letting Barnaby rub your head affectionately and Sally rope you into a side hug.

"Now open the gift!" Julie claps.

You laugh, grabbing the gift and tearing it open. Sitting inside in a beautiful framed picture of everyone in the neighborhood.

Well, everyone except-

The doorbell rings again, and you politely excuse yourself to answer it.

It's Wally. He looks rough. Dark bags underline his eyes and his usually tidy hair is in disarray. He looks up at your house nervously.

"Oh, hello Wally." You watch him carefully. If you look close enough, you can see the strings buried in his arms and neck.

He holds out flowers, which is nice, you guess. You take them, opening the door for him to come inside. He hesitates, then steps in.

You linger, your eyes following him as he greets everyone else. He got what he wanted, you're stuck here. There's no way out.

You can see his stiff movements, the fish line strings tugging at his skin and bones, uncomfortably present at all times.

"Are you coming?" Julie yells. "Poppy's going to bring out the cake!"

"I'm coming!" You shut the door, rushing over.

It's all okay, because he's trapped too.

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ace-trainguys · 6 months

Text

What if I posted the draft of the prologue to a fic of an au I haven't talked about on Tumblr. For a Halloween treat.

It's not edited up to where I want it. That and because this is only the first part of this au and it will be a long while before I write the rest is why I'm not posting it on ao3 yet. But if you would like a little something spooky, here is:

Heart of the Subway, part 1: Descent

Ingo sweeps his flashlight out in front of him. Even though Chandelure floats beside him, it is the proper safety procedure to illuminate the path ahead. The sensor that went offline is rather deep in the maintenance tunnels, but it shouldn't be too far now. Ingo hums to himself and Chandelure whistles along.

He reaches the next intersection and pauses. Instead of the two branching paths he was expecting, there are three. Ingo consults his mental map- he had been certain he was going the right way, but he must have made a wrong turn. A rare occurrence - one that hasn't happened since Ingo and Emmet became Subway Bosses, in fact. But that's the only explanation for the discrepancy. Each tunnel has the even shape of a man-made structure - no chance of a subterranean pokemon causing mischief.

All three paths slope downwards.

"Chandelure," Ingo murmurs. "Have I made a wrong turn?" She, too, knows these tunnels well. Chandelure chimes in confusion, confirming that she is also in the dark. Ingo had presumed as much - if she had noticed something wrong, she would have stopped him earlier. But he had to ask. "Very well. Let us retrace our steps."

Ingo turns around and heads back the way he came. He could have sworn that this tunnel had a slight downward slant when he had originally gone through, but he must have been mistaken. It's certainly sloping lower now.

Sooner than he expected, he reaches another intersection. It's wrong. There should be an opening to his left, and an opening forward, but there are four tunnels splitting off. This is not the way he came, but how could he have ended up somewhere else?

"Chandelure, do you sense anything?" Ingo asks. If it is a trick by a ghost, she will certainly be able to tell. When he doesn't receive a response, he turns and finds the space beside him empty. "Chandelure?!" He calls, but only his own voice echoes back to him. His loyal partner would not wander off and abandon him, but her purple tinted light is gone. Where is she? Ingo whips around to the direction he came from and-- it goes down.

No, no, he definitely descended coming this way. Did he get turned around? Which way did he come from? He shines his flashlight into the other tunnels, but all four slant deeper into the earth.

That's not possible. It-- the direction he came from, he went down. He didn't hear anything. Nothing could change the tunnels so silently.

It feels like a dream, but Ingo bites the inside of his cheek and feels pain. He's awake.

Ingo pulls out his radio and gets blasted by static. No matter how he tries to tune it, the results are the same.

Ingo... does not know the protocols for a situation like this. But he cannot simply stand around. He picks a tunnel and descends.

After several yards, Ingo turns and shines his flashlight back. The tunnel does not appear to be going back up like it should. He shudders and turns around again. What a horrible optical illusion, he tells himself, and desperately tries to believe it.

As he walks further and goes deeper, he begins to see cables run along the walls. He shines his flashlight on them, and though they are in line with the electrical wiring used in the subway, their placements and directions do not make logical sense. Ingo is intimately aware of how messy the wiring of the subway system was when he and Emmet began their careers. It was one of their highest priorities to repair when they became the bosses. It would make sense that there could have been wires they missed when doing the power system overhaul, so deep in the maintenance tunnels, but... these cables dip in and out of the walls in a way he's never seen before.

As he continues going deeper, he encounters cables drooping down in loops from the ceiling. An egregious safety hazard in five ways he can count off the top of his head. No one must have been in these tunnels in decades.

The wires grow thicker on the walls, running in all directions. Yet it is quiet - no hum of running electricity, despite the forest of cables. The only sounds Ingo can hear are his own careful breaths, and his rapid heartbeat.

It is not long before the cables have grown so thick that the walls are no longer visible. Ingo nearly trips before he realizes there are wires reaching out of the floor as well. He trains his flashlight and eyes at the ground, stepping carefully around the growths.

The tenuous beam of light hits a slab of solid metal. Ingo raises it to view an ancient door, wires twisting around every inch. Thick cables have entirely replaced the walls and floor - and a quick look upwards confirms the ceiling is covered as well. He swallows his dread and turns the doorknob with a shaking hand.

Immediately after stepping through, the door closes behind him with a sense of finality. The chamber he has entered is much wider than the tunnel he was in previously. Cables twirl and flow all around, congregating in a massive pillar in the center. Ingo realizes with a start that he can see outside his flashlight’s meager view - the whole room is filled with a dim sourceless light.

When he returns his eyes to the central pillar once more, he feels–

welcome happiness home

What…?

Ingo finds himself relaxing despite the incongruous nature of the emotions. It doesn’t make sense to feel this at home in such a strange, alien location, and yet. It’s as if he’s sitting on the couch, one arm around his brother, surrounded by their pokemon. Comfortable, safe, warm.

He can’t hear anything, but he can almost feel a noiseless sound. A pulse. Gazing upon the monolith of intertwined lines, he gets the sense that these wires, despite the lack of electricity flowing through them, are not lifeless.

He is suddenly, indisputably sure that this is the heart of the Unovan subway system. There is no logical evidence, nothing that could have led him to this conclusion, but he is certain.

Ingo is awestruck. Nothing could have prepared him for the power and life that the core of the subway emits. After all these years, all the effort Ingo and Emmet put into restoring a run down transit system - seeing that it has blossomed into something like this makes him want to laugh and cry. It was worth it.

The corners of his eyes pinch, his version of a wide smile. He wonders if he should feel reverence, in the core of the place he and his brother dedicated themselves to, but instead he’s filled with love, love, love that is not his own. Ingo realizes that it’s the subway itself, communicating with him in pure emotions, and he laughs. His own joy is reflected back at him. He loves and adores the subway, and it seems it loves him back.

With a noise like leaves rustling in the wind, cables shift in the pillar, opening a small entrance. Ingo feels a gentle pull forward, an invitation to enter the heart. happy closer appeal. Ingo notices he’s taken a step closer without realizing it.

He steps back and plants his feet firmly to the ground. Come come come. No, Ingo will not do anything blindly. Love safety stay happy, the subway croons wordlessly, yet he feels himself start to sweat.

Suddenly he’s sure that if he enters the heart, he will never be able to come back out.

Comfort love safety. It’s not bad, down here. Pleasant, really. The subway loves him. He could be happy, nestled securely in the heart.

But he cannot do this. To stay here would be abandoning his responsibilities. It would mean leaving his job and his passion behind. Never seeing his friends or his pokemon or his brother again.

Negative false reassurance. Still there still there

Ingo shakes his head and shudders. He doesn't understand how staying here could be anything other than abandoning everyone. He tries to turn back around and--

He can’t move.

Despite the subway’s faith confidence trust, Ingo feels his breathing speed up. It won’t let him leave. It won’t-- he doesn’t want this but he can’t even lean backwards.

Ingo shivers, and thinks of Emmet alone. Not knowing what happened to his brother. Worrying about Ingo. Worrying Ingo left him, falling into those old self doubts. Ingo promised he would never leave. He promised - and in a burst of frantic energy, he turns and manages to take a step away.

No love safe comfort stay stay STAY

Ingo struggles to take another step, while a whispering rasp hisses behind him. As he pushes his frozen legs as hard as he can, he spots squirming black shapes approaching in the edge of his vision. Cables reach out to him, wrapping around his arms, ever so gently. More circle his wrists, his legs, his feet, his chest, his neck, with extreme care. Like handling fine china, like holding a precious treasure, the wires cradle Ingo, embracing every inch of him. Ingo’s terror and panic fight the calm safe love, but he can’t move at all in the wires’ tender hold.

Paralyzed, Ingo can do nothing as the cables begin to drag him into the heart. He tries, he desperately tries, but he can't even twitch a finger. He can't move, he can't move, he will be stuck down here for the rest of his life and he will never see his brother again-

adoration safe calm belonging stay

Drawn into the subway's heart, a path made specially for him, all Ingo can do is scream "EMMET!"

Then the wires fall back into place, as if the entrance was never there at all.

No– stop- what's going on? He doesn’t want this! He can't move! He doesn't -

Home safe belonging love love love

the pressure, it's everywhere- he's being crushed, he - air? Is he breathing? He can't move, he can't move- help-

Calm safe peace secure

What is that sensation- running through him, he's never felt something like that, he doesn't understand- rumbling stopping and starting, in him - pinch and itch and drag on parts a body doesn't have, how- he doesn't want this, please stop-

Right belonging acceptance

There's no color- How is he seeing so much at once - too much, it's too much, he can't- make it stop, please-

Rest reassure love

It doesn't hurt but he doesn’t understand- he's not supposed to be– he is supposed to be…what is he supposed to be?!

Right correctness cherished belonging

help, he can't– it's so quiet- this is too much, he can't–

Reassure calm love adoration

He can't- he can't…

Acceptance belonging home

H-help… Em… met…

Belonging belonging belonging

He...

Calm safe belonging

…

Calm.

He calms.

Emmet is doing paperwork in his and Ingo's office when the lights flicker off for a second. They're back on almost immediately, but Emmet groans regardless. The subway's backup generators prevent essential functions from shutting down, but a power outage, no matter how brief, means there are many safety checks that must be run.

Emmet blinks, and places a hand on his chest. Nothing happened other than the lights going out, but he feels like something is different. He can't put his finger on what or how, exactly, but…

Hm. He'll have to ask Ingo if he felt it too after he gets back.

#submas #qed's writing #writing #fanfiction #ingo #emmet #submas au #heart of the subway au #I edited a little tonight but I'm under the weather and I hit my limit #does this count as a cliffhanger?#in my opinion the first part is the spookiest but there'll be more spooky later too #psychological horror I think #I'm gonna keep quiet about what happens next and pretend to be mysterious #(unless I change my mind which is a possibility)

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cinderspots · 3 months

Text

UNHOLY

CHAPTER ONE

Lebkuchen is cursed.

A LGTS Vampire AU! Brought to you by brainrot! READ THE TAGS!!!!!

#cinderwrites #fanfiction #little goody two shoes #lebkuchen #Elise #leblise #vampire #psychological horror #graphic depictions of violence #graphic depictions of death #tw blood #look at me. this will get very intense.

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pinto-bean-writes · 26 days

Text

Welcome Y'all :)

My name is Pinto! Some of you may know me as @sydaney-foxay, my personal blog! I'm a silly little author, I usually write original works in the genres of Dark Fantasy and Realistic FIction with hints of fluffy-angsty Romance sprinkled within! Though I do occassionally write Fanfiction and do take requests, but more on that later on!

Name: Pinto Bean Age: Minor Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Heteromantic & Ace Socials: Wattpad, AO3, Neobook Race/Ethnicity: Half Filipino, Half British Religion: Catholic ✝

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Any type of hate, racism, homophobia, transphobia, body shaming, abelism ect, are PROHIBITED and will NOT BE TOLERATED.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ No NSFW/Explicit asks or images/videos in the Ask or Submissions box. They will immediately be DELETED.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Anybody younger than 13 reading/engaging with this blog WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. (Mutuals are an exception to this rule.)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Any asks or submissions about politics are PROHIBITED and will be DELETED.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ People older than 30 reading/engaging with this blog WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. (Family members, mutuals, and people granted personal permission are an exception to this rule.)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ If any work is marked "16+" please do take it upon yourself to make a responsible decision on wether to consume the piece of media or not.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ All trigger warnings will be mentioned, please do read those first and mind then when reading through a piece.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Anyone younger than 13. (Mutuals and family members are exempt from this rule)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Anyone older than 30. (Mutuals and family members are exempt from this rule)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ AI Art supporters.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Proshippers.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Homophobic, transphobic and fatphobic individuals.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ People who have public ownership of explicit/18+ media blogs.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ This silly shart sniffer /silly

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ People who showcase harmful/toxic behaviors and excuse it with religion (I.E: Toxic Christians, toxic Catholics)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Bots.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ People who spread religious hate.

If any of these describe you I highly suggest getting off my blog and to not interact with it.

..............................Fanfiction............................

As I mentioned before, I do take requests! Now I do wanna start this off by saying:

I consider myself an ORIGINAL AUTHOR. I mostly write ORIGINAL WORKS. Though those take quite a long time to come out and sometimes I want to write but not focus on larger, original projects- so I take REQUESTS and write MY OWN fanfictions, but those are LOW on the priority list. I spend the majority of my time writing WORKING ON ORIGINAL WORK, so I do want to say FANFICTION REQUESTS MAY TAKE A WHILE TO GET SENT OUT. Due to this, I want to thank you all in advance for your patience and support!

Now; onto the fun stuff!

Fanfiction requests will usually take about 1 week to come out, due to my focus on original work and the fact my writing is usually very long and detailed. I write for a plethora of fandoms and even though fanfiction is not my main focus, I try to put as much love and care into my fanfics as I do my original work!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Hazbin Hotel 🔥

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Helluva Boss 👿

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Cuphead 🥤

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Camp Camp 🌲

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ The Ghost and Molly McGee 👻

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Miss Peregrines Peculiar Children 🐣 (I have read all 6 books + watched the movie)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Stardew Valley 👩‍🌾

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sexy Brutale 🛌

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Court x Mort Saga 📚

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I DO WRITE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Character x Character ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Character x Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Platonic Character x Character ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Platonic Character x Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sibling Character x Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sick comfort ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Period/Menstruation comfort ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sibling comfort ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Headcanons ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Alternate timelines ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Alternate universes ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Alternate situations ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Hurt comfort ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ MILDLY suggestive fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I DON'T WRITE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sexually explicit NSFW (OF ANY AGES) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Incest ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Pedophelia ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Underage use of drugs and alcohol ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ SA scenes ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ The brutal murder of children ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suicide ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Zoophilia

Side note:

My boundaries when writing fanfiction will not always align with my boundaries when writing original fiction. I want to respect the original piece of media and the creatives behind it- so I refrain from writing anything particularly heavy, intense, or mature that has not happened in the original piece or anything incredibly off-canon. I also know the large majority of those who read/request fanfiction are minors, and I want to be able to give them a place to read lots of fics without worrying about coming across anything particularly disturbing. Though with my original work, do expect much heavier topics to be referenced.

..........................Original Fiction........................

As I've stated before, I am an original author and I do plan on sharing my work here on this blog among other socials! My original work will usually take longer to release than fanfictions, so feel free to pop in aks about characters, plots, and things revealed through spoiler posts! The genres I write in are usually dark fantasy, realistic fiction, dark humor (if that counts), psychological thriller, psychological horror, dystopia, dark romance, and political fiction.

My original work may contain these things/topics: (Of course specialized Trigger Warnings will be placed on each piece according to the content of the writing)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Swearing ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Mental/Emotional/Physical Neglect ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Mental/Emotional/Physical Abuse ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Generally traumatic events ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Intense descriptions of blood, gore, and violence ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ The use of drugs and alcohol ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Underage use of alcohol ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Toxic romantic relationships ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ The mentions of sexual harassment/assault (The actual acts of assault are never described or written out. Only suggested.) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Cults/Cult-like organizations ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Death ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Violence ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Vomiting ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ MILDLY suggestiveness (MILD, meaning all characters are fully clothed, and there is never sexually intimate touching) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Vulnerable character (I.E: being drunk) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Child death ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Human cruelty ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ References made to specific types of drugs, alcohols, weapons, ect,

Another reminder:

All pieces of writing will have specific trigger warnings placed on them depending on the content of the piece. Not all of my original works will contain these specific topics if any at all- please read trigger warnings before consuming.

.......................Socials...................... ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Wattpad ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ AO3 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Neobook

Thank Ya'll :)

...to everyone who read through this and I do hope you stick around and follow to see what crazy shit I can whip up for y'all with nothing more than a Google Document and an ink cartridge filled with dreams!

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ice-cap-k · 16 days

Text

*I Always Had Been Partial to the Color Blue (Part 1)

Hey! Got a new story for part of the 2024 MCYT Horror Gift exchange ( @mcythorrorgiftexchange ). This is for the amazing @spicypotstickerbliss. I hope I did your request justice. I went a little wild with the prompt...

It's longer than my old whumptober stuff, so feel free to read it on AO3 here: I Always Had Been Partial to the Color Blue

CH 2

__________________________________________

“Keep running, Tommy!”

“But Wil-” “Don’t talk! Just Run!”

I shoved Tommy’s shoulder. I had meant to give him a boost, but he teetered mid-step and I panicked, digging my fingers into his shirt to keep him from falling forward. I didn’t let go. Couldn’t let go. It almost felt like I was dragging him forward, but his feet kept moving and he stayed in front of me. We were running as fast as our legs could carry us, even if my lungs burned and my feet were numb with cold.

The cold. It seeped through my coat and fought against the heat wafting off my skin, the uncomfortable difference between hot and cold practically stinging me. Ultimately, though, it felt good. Like it was the only thing keeping me from passing out.

Tommy was only in his T-shirt and trousers. The petulant child had refused to put on something warmer when we first left the house to go see Tubbo. Then again, neither of us had imagined we would have gotten chased off the main path through the woods.

This was only meant to be a short trip.

Awoooooooooooooo!!

That sounded like a wolf.

It wasn’t a wolf.

The howl was coming from right behind us. The baying of beasts calling for both of our blood had picked up in tempo. They knew that the two of us would have to tire soon. We couldn’t outrun them forever. How long had we even been running? Minutes? It felt like an eternity.

Our only saving grace was the snow. As much as it weighed on my feet and made it more difficult to put one foot in front of the other, it seemed to be even more troublesome for our pursuers.

When I dared to look back, just for a second, I caught sight of burning pink eyes and steam emanating off of brimstone tentacles. Something hissed and growled like an angry cat when one of Tommy’s steps kicked up a spray of slush and hit one of the figures following us square in the face. Claws flashed, and red pulsed purple-black, it fell behind another few steps, and I looked away, trying not to gag. There wasn’t time to stop and worry about losing the contents of my stomach.

“What the fuck?!! Wil! There, look! ” Tommy grabbed my wrist where I was still gripping his shoulder and pointed. I didn’t have time to see what he was referring to when he wrenched my arm to the side. Now he was the one pulling me.

I stumbled over the snow, nearly running face-first into a low-hanging branch. “Tommy, I-” I cut myself off this time. Despite being fully aware of the things breathing down the back of my neck and swiping at my heels, it dawned on me that there was light up ahead. Tommy was still pointing, though the action was pretty shaky considering the fact that we were running. He wasn’t the best at holding steady, even on a good day, but throw in the need to dodge around trees and uneven footing down a hill in the woods meant Tommy was actually kind of all over the place. I followed the line of his finger as best as I could to the center of the blue light flickering and flaring down the slope ahead of us.

“Is that a castle?” I asked between heavy breaths.

That was the only thing I could think to call the massive building tucked away at the bottom of the valley. It was a crooked thing, made up of stone bricks stacked up on top of each other. The blocky center build took up most of the space with steeped roofs and swooping arches, while turrets that looked more tacked on than anything rounded out the corners. Long, tunnel-like wings swept off the sides and followed a frozen river that cut through the trees. The slate and copper-lined roof was sunken in places and completely collapsed in others. Vines and moss threatened to overtake the lower walls as if the forest was reclaiming it.

Still, there was light. Torchlight. Lamp lights. Fires. Blue lights glowing behind windows that could have still had glass, or been covered over with paper for all that I could make out. Bright blue lanterns marked a small path of inlaid wood steps leading up to a front door where the snow had fully melted away. Someone had to be around to light those fires. Someone had to live there.

“Change of plans, Tommy. We go there and we call for help.”

“Already ahead of you, big man.”

We half slid, half stumbled our way down the rest of the hill. It was only by some miracle that we hadn’t slammed into a tree trunk on the way down. Some of our pursuers weren’t so lucky. Snapping tree branches and howls of pain and frustration assaulted my ears as we bottomed out at the end of the slope.

“They’re stupid, Tommy. They’re giving us an opportunity. Don’t let it go to waste.”

We both took off towards the first light along the muddy path. The trees were thinner here. Almost non-existent, and it didn’t take long for the creatures behind us to right themselves after the slip down the slope. Some of them were still hot on our trail. I could hear the panting of their breathing, and the sound of the snow sloshing beneath their feet as they struggled to stay on our tail.

A shape loomed out of the white ahead of us. There! On the trail further along. Someone riding horseback. I was too focused on running to get a good look at them. Besides, it was too dark to make out their features. When they turned their horse around on the path to see me and Tommy barreling towards them with several terrifying creatures after us, their horse half-reared.

“Heh?!?!”

“Please help us,” Tommy screamed.

The stranger turned their horse around. I caught sight of a glint of moonlight on steel by their waist as they pulled on their reigns. “Phil,” came a deep-throated shout. For as loud as it was, they didn’t sound particularly concerned. “We’ve got a bit of an issue.”

‘A bit of an issue,’ sounded like an absurd understatement to me, even in the moment. I probably pulled a frown, not that I could see my own face, or that Tommy was looking at me to tell me what sort of expression I wore. I just remember thinking about how strange the horseman’s words were considering the situation. I had never seen anything like what was chasing us before tonight. Not in any scary campfire story or wild nature documentary on TV. And here Tommy and I were, accidentally leading their reaching claws and snarling fangs right to this guy.

Of course, I didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts when my luck ran out.

Something tightened around my ankle.

I went down hard. All the air rushed out of my lungs as I fell belly-first against the first few stairs in the path. Deep, heavy, throbbing pain bloomed to life on my right side. It felt like someone took a sledgehammer to the bottom rib. Instinctively, I went to curl up to cover the spot, but when I did my fingers slipped from the snow-slicked edge of the stair and the thing on my ankle YANKED.

I screamed. I screamed Tommy’s name over and over as if he could help me. A voice in the back of my head worried it had gotten him to, but that was impossible. I could see him come to a stop alongside the horseman, who had drawn something razer thin and gleaming out from his side. Tommy’s blue eyes flew wide, mouth gaping open as our gazes locked for a millisecond. Then the grip shifted and I ended up on my back. From this angle, I couldn’t see Tommy anymore, but I could see what had gotten ahold of me.

I vaguely recognized one of the creatures that I had seen chasing us from amidst the pack. A dark-skinned creature, so black it was near impossible to make out most of its features. I could still see its eyes and mouth, though. Those were bleached completely white. They practically glowed compared to the rest of its complexion, and when it opened its mouth to snarl, I could make out long fangs where they left dark gaps in the stark white. Its clawed hand was wrapped around my ankle, and its grip was reinforced with a red vine or tentacle wrapping from its wrist onto my leg.

Try as I might to kick and scream, I knew that there was no getting out of that grip. All I managed to do was knock the hood off of its horned head as the others from its pack began to draw closer.

There was no consistency to them. The one on my leg might as well have been a demon. That one over there, a giant cat, and the one with red eyes looked almost like it could be human. It certainly moved more like one than the others, glaring at me past blond bangs as if I was a particularly interesting bug.

In a desperate attempt to do something, anything, I swept my arm out and up, tossing an arc of snow up onto the thing gripping my leg.

“Let go of me!”

The snow hissed and sizzled where it came in contact with pitch-black skin. The thing squawked in pain. The grip on my ankle loosened slightly, Clawed fingers loosened when it tried to shake the snow off so that only the red tendril remained.

I kicked out against it. Pulled at the ground with my nails. Even tried sitting up to unwrap it from my ankle with my hands, but I couldn’t stay upright long enough to manage. There was a dull throbbing running up the length of my leg since the thing let go of me, and that pain was starting to drown out the waves of aches washing over my side. I blinked against it, surprised to see a dark shape pass across my vision. Was I seeing dark spots already?

SHING!

The pressure on my ankle disappeared.

It still throbbed, but when I pulled my foot back towards the rest of my body there was no resistance. Part of the red tendril lay squirming in the snow. The other part was probably still attached to whatever had grabbed me, but I couldn’t make it out past the broad silhouette that now stood between me and the monster.

And what an intimidating figure it was. From the back, I could make out a heavy cloak billowing in the late winter breeze, white diamond patterns appearing and disappearing in the shifting folds like whirling snowflakes. When the wind moved the cloak just right, I could make out heavy black boots and pale blue fabric that almost blended into the snowy landscape. Even further beyond that, I could make out the terrified gaze of the creature that had been chasing me as it backed away. Fur trim lined the top of the cloak where the black fabric shifted to red. And at the very top, a blue and white striped bucket hat sat atop a mop of loose blond hair.

Their arm was positioned at their side. A steel blade hung from their hand, the very end dripping bright red dots into the white snow.

Their shoulders shifted and the tip of their sword bobbed as they spoke up in a voice so cold it rivaled the winter air. “Looks like someone’s trespassing in our domain.”

I crawled backward, attempting to put some more distance between us. “I’m sorry,” I found the words tumbling out of my lips.

The person in front of me turned to look over their shoulder. It was a man, old enough to be my father with stubble on his chin and eyes that first glinted like ice but warmed like the summer sky when they fell on me.

“Oh, don’t worry. Wasn’t talkin’ about you. As for the rest of you lot, though…” His words lowered into a hiss as he turned back to face the pack of creatures that were backing away. All of them. Not just the one that had grabbed me. They all stared at the tip of his sword as he raised it, and flinched when another red drop fell from its edge. “I’d suggest running back to your own domain before the issue can become…” He spared another side-eyed glance at me. “Complicated.”

The creatures froze. They didn’t back up further, but they showed no signs that they were interested in approaching, either. They shared a few torn looks between themselves.

“Oh, so you intended to trespass?” The man took a step forward and brought the blade out in front of him.

Their eyes flew wide. Any hint of doubt in their expressions vanished. They turned tail and fled back up the slope, clawing and leaping over each other to get away faster. Taking up the rear was the dark-skinned monster that had grabbed me. It ran with its wrist cradled in its opposite arm and its wiry tail tucked between its legs.

“You alright mate?”

The man slid his stained sword into a loop at his waist as he turned to look at me. From the front, he looked warm and friendly. He wore a lopsided grin, and the brim of his hat was a little lopsided over his forehead. The warm clothes he wore looked fine enough to be meant for royalty, but yet still retained an almost militaristic air that did not match the casual slouch to his shoulders. He held out a hand.

I blinked at it, so stunned my brain needed a moment to catch up to what had just happened. I shot a glance down at the tendril that now lay still in the snow, then at the hill where the last of the monsters disappeared over the crest, before realizing he was offering to help me up.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I croaked, taking his hand. He pulled me up easily. Surprisingly so, considering that once I was up on my feet it became clear that I was considerably taller than him. Even Tommy would have towered over this man.

His eyes screwed shut as a wide smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “No problem. Those guys can be such a pest sometimes. Far less friendly than us. I’d recommend steering clear of them if you can help it.”

“Sounds like sound advice,” I said with a laugh that was one part nerves and two parts relief. “The name’s Wilbur. To whom do I owe a thank you to?”

“I’m Phil.”

Phil? Like the name the gentleman on the horse had shouted? The guy that Tommy ran to?

Wait… Tommy? Oh God, Tommy!

I pivoted on a heel to look behind me, but as I did so, I moved my leg and the throbbing pain came rushing back up my leg like bolts of electricity. The ankle gave out and the whole world tilted as I went down again. “Agh!”

“Careful there!” Phil’s arm managed to wrap underneath mine just in time to catch me before I could hit the ground.

“Tommy,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Wilbur! Wilbur are you alright?!”

Relief washed over me, even as I struggled to blink back tears. Snow crunched as Tommy came running. He gripped a bright red cloak, similar to Phil’s, over his shoulders. It covered his exposed arms. A hulking shadow of another man walked behind him at a much more laid-back pace. The horse stood back at the side of the path, tied by the reins to a wayward fence post.

“I take it this is Tommy?” Phil asked with a chuckle.

I nodded. “I’ll be fine, Tommy,” I said. The pain made my voice come off strained. It wasn’t doing much to assure him, but my words were true. The worst of the danger seemed to have passed. “I think I’ve got a sprain, but that’s the worst of it.”

“That thing did have you by the ankle, didn’t it,” Phil asked, but didn’t seem like he was expecting much of an answer. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at the tendril lying in the snow.

The reassurance seemed to be enough for Tommy, who launched himself at me and wrapped his arms around my torso in a tight hug. There was a twinge as his arms brushed my ribs, but nothing worse than that. It would probably have a bruise there by morning. “Don’t ever do that shit again. You hear me?” he demanded. “I won’t have it. Next time I might not step up to protect you and what are ya going to do then, huh?”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Protect him?”

“Pretty sure it was Phil who scared them off, kid.” At that point, the man who had been following behind Tommy came to a full stop an arm’s length away. He was dressed similarly to Phil with fancy pale blue winter attire. There was no fur-trimmed cloak, though Wilbur assumed that was where Tommy had gotten his warm new cover. Unlike Phil, though, this man’s expression and demeanor seemed a better match to his outfit. He held his head high and his shoulders stiff, pink hair pulled back in a perfect braid. Not a single hair was out of place, even around the gold circlet that sat above his brow. He was tall. A couple of centimeters taller than me, even. He looked down at me and Phil through wire-framed glasses.

His expression was blank and stony. When I looked a little longer, though, I could have sworn I saw a spark of amusement in his eyes.

“Well I was the one who thought to come here and called for help,” Tommy huffed. “I saw the castle, and I saw you, and you called for this guy.” He pointed a shaky finger at Phil. “If I wasn’t as big and strong and smart as I am, that wouldn’t have happened. So really, it’s because of me that Wilbur’s alright.”

Phil and the other man shared a glance. I rolled my eyes and reached out with the arm that wasn’t being supported by the sword-wielding, bucket hat-wearing man at my side so I could ruffle Tommy’s hair. The teen pulled away from the touch, but I just smiled. “You did good, Toms.”

“Of course I did.”

The man with the braid shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat. Where did you guys even come from?”

“Over the ridge,” I said, jutting my chin back in that direction. “There’s a path leading through the woods back to the town over there. Those things chased us here from the other side of the forest.”

“There’s a town over there now?”

Phil shot the pink-haired man a glare. “Sorry, about my friend,” he huffed. “This is Technoblade,” he said, bobbing his elbow in the other’s direction. “It’s been a while since we’ve been that way. You guys must have made it pretty far.”

“I’ll say,” Tommy whined. He pulled the cloak tighter over his shoulders and leaned away from me, kicking at a clump of snow. “My feet HURT.”

“Welp. That’s a shame.” Technoblade crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was an intimidating man at first glance, but the change in posture broadened his shoulders and made me want to shrink out from under the shadow he cast.

“The sooner you get out of here, the better. After that scare Phil gave them, our uninvited guests,” he said, monotonous voice dipping ever so slightly in what must have been disgust, “won’t risk coming back around for a while.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure I can walk all that way back,” I admitted, and I hated the words as I said them. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to get me and Tommy back home, safe and sound.

“Tommy, do you think I can lean on your shoulder?”

“No way,” Tommy snapped. I turned to look at him, surprised, and he stuttered. Backtracking. “I mean, of course, Wil. I would, but walking right now sounds like bullshit. Can’t we just go bunker down in that castle until morning?”

“I don’t-”

“No.” Technoblade didn’t give me a chance to consider it.

“Bitch!”

He looked down at Tommy with an expression that was impossible to read. “Me and Phil aren’t prepared to take visitors right now. Besides, if you plan on going home to whichever town you came from tonight, the best time is now.”

“Or tomorrow afternoon when the sun’s at its peak,” Phil said brightly.

Technoblade blinked and gave a good hard look at the man who was still supporting me. “Phil,” he hissed, and it had the barest hint of a whine at the end. Almost like he was pleading with his companion.

A hint of that steel returned to Phil’s eyes as he kicked at the severed tendril with the toe of his boot. “Wilbur here got his ankle wrapped up before I cut him free,” he said smoothly. “I think they might have got him good. Don’t you think it would be better if we were to take a good look at it? Make sure it’s nothing more serious?”

“You’re kidding?” Technoblade said, deadpan, although I had a sneaking suspicion that it was probably his default tone.

Phil didn’t say anything. The two men stared each other down, some unheard conversation passing between them that I couldn’t make heads or tails of. Finally, Technoblade looked away first and his eyes bore into mine.

“I… I promise we’ll be on our best behavior,” I offered. What could I say? The idea of trekking through the woods on my tender ankle didn’t sound like fun. And if we had to, I knew Tommy would help me walk. He would whine and complain the entire way there, but he would help. If it meant I didn’t have to put up with a long night like that, then I’d gladly stay in a literal castle with people who were clearly capable of keeping me and him safe from those things.

Even if I had only just met the inhabitants. “Tommy, promise you’ll behave.” “But why should I?” “Because I am asking you to.”

“Need another reason than that, Wil.”

“Please, Tommy?”

Tommy threw back his head. Blond hair rustled in the winter breeze, catching passing snowflakes as he groaned. “Ughhhhhhh. Fine. I promise I will try to behave. Odds of me not breaking your shit goes up if you throw in dinner, too. I’m starved.”

Technoblade shifted from foot to foot. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he considered. Eventually, he let out a sigh. “Alright. But just one night. Let me go get Carl.”

“Oh, good idea!” Phil tilted his head back and let out a high-pitched whistle. A high keen split the winter air almost immediately in reply. “I’ll take Wilbur on Dave and you take Tommy on Carl.” A second later, a large chestnut horse appeared. It crested over a hill and trotted up until it could press its head to Phil’s back.

“Sure. Come on, kid. Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

Tommy screwed up his face into an open-mouthed scowl. “Ew. Of course not. They’re smelly and stupid.”

Technoblade arched one eyebrow. “Would you rather walk?”

“...Oh my! What an amazing horse! How wonderful and nice!”

The next few minutes were a mess. It took a lot of effort for me to get situated on Phil’s horse behind him. The process of climbing up sent pricks through my bad leg like hot knives tearing into me over and over again. More than once I had to stop just to catch my breath and wait for the pain to pass. It wasn’t so bad when I held my ankle still. Just a dull throb. Stretching and flexing it, though, made everything worse.

Tommy wasn’t doing much better, but for reasons that were pretty typical for him. Mainly the arguing. The puffed-out chest and insistence that he knew what he was doing, even as his foot slipped out of the stirrup and he fell so hard against the saddle that it spooked the horse.

I had to admire the man’s patience.

Once we both were secure on the backs of the saddles, though, Phil and Technoblade kicked off and started down the path towards the castle. Technoblade and Tommy led the way, while me and Phil rode to the rear.

“Does that place really belong to you?” I asked as I admired the crumbling walls.

“It does,” Phil answered brightly. “We’ve been trying to fix it up for a while now, but things tend to get away from you, ya know?”

“And do those freaks from the woods come around often,” Tommy asked. He had a white-knuckled grip on the back of Technoblade’s belt that only got tighter with every other sway of the horse.

“Eh.” Technoblade shrugged. “Not really. Put a sword through a few of them or threaten them a handful of times and they learn to leave you alone. It’s all about power. Showing them who’s the boss when and where.”

“I’m a total boss,” Tommy perked up. His grip loosened enough that it didn’t look like his nails were cutting into the leather belt anymore. “Any chance you could show me how to chase them off?”

Phil laughed.

Technoblade paused. He turned just enough to give Tommy a curious look over his shoulder before turning to face the path once more. “Maybe if you were older.”

Phil broke down laughing again.

“So, what, you would show Wilbur but not me?”

“I’d rather just not run into those things ever again,” I said, shutting down that line of thought entirely. “The pen’s mightier than the sword for me. My skills are much better off put to use in politics.”

“Geez, Wil. Can you be less boring?”

“But debates are fun, Tommy.”

“No, they are fuckin’ not. Technoblade. If you won’t show me how to chase off monsters, then can you at least give me some pointers?”

“Yeah. Run.”

Tommy scoffed. “You’re looking down on me. I don’t appreciate this treatment.”

Phil spoke up. “Techno’s right, though. Best thing you could do in those situations is to trust your gut. Both of you knew to run, and you ran. Everything turned out just fine.”

“Yeah, because you pulled out a wicked cool sword and fought them off. Not because we ran.”

“Well, that's what my gut told me to do. Something I didn’t want around was crossing over where it had no business being, so I acted as I saw best. See! Me following my better judgment and you following yours led to some pretty good results.”

Technoblade nodded. “It boils down to observation. You look. You listen. You make a judgment call.”

“Look and listen for what,” Tommy asked petulantly. “I’d much rather fight.”

At this point, the front door of the castle was well within sight. Phil pulled his horse up closer behind Technoblades. From this vantage point, I could no longer see Tommy up ahead. I could still hear the fabric of Technoblade’s outfit shift, see the barest hint of his pink hair over the tops of Phil’s hat and the horse’s ears as the man straightened. He spoke once more, that deep voice of his took on a hint of some emotion that I couldn’t identify but sent a shudder down my spine.

“If the blood pounding in your ears could warn you of the danger at your back, would you listen then?”

“Well, yeah,” Tommy said, utterly oblivious to the change in Technoblade’s demeanor. “I’m not stupid. That literally just happened.”

______________________________________________________________

By the time Phil and Technoblade led me and Tommy into the lavishly decorated sitting room situated near the entrance to their castle, Technoblade had clearly become much more dismissive of Tommy’s big mouth. Which was good, because Tommy was making it pretty clear that the thing he wanted most out of life right now was to get under the man’s skin. He helped me limp through the front door while Phil rushed ahead to light a fire and warm the drafty old building. The entire time we walked, Tommy pestered our remaining guide with questions.

“Do you fight, or is it just Phil?”

“Is that sword just a fancy toy or something? I bet I could take you, easy.”

“What’s a couple of weirdos like you doing so far out here, anyway?”

He asked the last one as he helped lower me into an overstuffed velvet armchair. It was also the only question Technoblade bothered to address.

“Me and Phil have always preferred to stick to ourselves. Last time I bothered to throw my lot in with other people, it didn’t go so well.”

“You got into a fight?” Tommy asked pointedly.

The barest hint of a smile pulled at the corner of Technoblade’s mouth. “Something like that.”

“Aha! So the sword isn’t just for show!”

“Tommy, I don’t think-”

“It is not.” Technoblade clicked his tongue. “And no, I am not showing you how to use it.” Tommy deflated a little at that. Technoblade continued. “Look. This is basically the place where I chose to retire. A place to call my own. It’s peaceful and out of the way, and normally I don’t have to worry about other people showing up.” His eyes flicked from Tommy to me. “So I apologize if I sound a bit rude, but I can’t help but feel a little- just a little concerned when two strangers come running up to me on my evening ride, screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“You didn’t seem very concerned about the monsters,” Tommy said with a frown.

“Because I knew how they would react,” he said without missing a beat. “Me and Phil have dealt with them plenty. They’re easy to predict. I don’t know what to expect from the two of you.” His gaze fell on my throbbing ankle.

I sat up a little straighter in my chair. “Technoblade, if I may… We appreciate that you and Phil are willing to let us stay the night.” Even if Phil had to talk the other man into it. “I also understand that we are complete strangers in your home. I respect that. I really do. It can be scary letting someone brand new into your personal space, especially one as grand as this.” I motioned to the room surrounding us.

It was rather nice, as well, in a homely sense. Bookshelves and plush furniture with well-worn fabric from years of use filled the space. There were scraped wooden tables and worn spots on the floor. The hearth burned bright. Blankets and furs were strewn across the floors and furniture, helping keep the heat in the room. It looked like it could have been made to suit expensive tastes if everything didn’t look so old and well-worn.

What little I saw of the castle on the way in didn’t fall too far from the mark either. Sure there were finely sewn tapestries along the walls, but most had looked pretty sun-faded. Sure the parquet floors were shiny and detailed, but the rails of stairwells were wound with brightly colored ribbons and there were scuff marks everywhere. Weapons lined glass cabinets, but some swords and spears were left resting out in the open, leaning against the wall or a banister where someone had left them and forgotten to put them away.

It was a lived-in home, even if it was a castle. “But,” I continued. “I’m gonna admit that it’s pretty scary for us too. Frankly, I might still be in shock from that chase. We don’t know much about you two, either. So if it helps, I don’t plan on risking upsetting you.”

“Me either.” To my surprise, Tommy chimed in an agreement. One that wasn’t laced with sarcasm or immediately followed up by an insult. I shoved down the pride I felt rising in my chest and smiled instead of vocalizing my approval.

“You know the saying, never look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Some of the tension uncoiled from Technoblade’s shoulders. The crackle of the fire filled the air in place of words as he looked between the two of us. His eyebrow twitched. I caught sight of that amused twinkle in his eye once more. “Gift horse, huh?”

What was I supposed to say to that? I tried opening my mouth but decided to let Technoblade’s question hang in the open air. I didn’t have anything that I was confident would sway him, so I decided to wait and see.

“Cool.” With two long steps, Technoblade crossed the room and sunk into the chair next to mine. “Good to have that all cleared up.”

“Have what cleared up?”

I startled at the sound of Phil’s voice. The other man swept into the room carrying a small box in one hand and a wooden crutch in the other.

Technoblade waved him off. “Eh. These two just assured me they wouldn’t cause any trouble. That’s all.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good.” Phil dropped down onto one knee next to me and let the crutch rest on the floor. He flipped the lid off the box in his hands. Inside were rolls of gauze and bandages. Small, marked vials of liquid rattled as he began pulling out supplies.

“Go ahead and make yourself feel right at home, boys. I brought the first aid kit and something to help you get around a little easier.”

“You couldn’t find anything better than that hunk of junk?” Tommy muttered.

I shot him a disapproving glare and tried to keep the embarrassed flush burning at the tips of my ears from becoming noticeable. “It’s fine. Honestly. We’re just happy for the help.”

“Of course, mate,” Phil said easily. “Hey, Techno. Could you take Tommy and show him around the rest of the castle? I’d like a little space while I take care of Wilbur’s ankle.”

“He means peace and quiet, Tommy.”

“Shut up, Wilbur. I’m an absolute angel.”

Technoblade snorted. “Sure.” He pressed his hands against the arms of his chair and pushed himself back up to his feet. “Come on, Tommy. You feel up for a lesson or two on sparring?”

“For real? Like, with real weapons.”

“Of course.”

“Then hell yeah!” Tommy threw up his arms like he had just won something.

Tommy? Sparring. I gulped. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea…”

“Don’t listen to Wilbur,” Tommy shouted. “He’s just jealous because he can’t compete with these guns.” He held up both of his arms to flex his biceps.

“I’m really not.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Phil said dismissively. “Techno knows his way around the sparring field better than anyone. Tommy may even learn a thing or two.”

It sounded more reassuring than it probably should have.

“If you say so…” I conceded. It’s not like there was much I could do to stop Tommy. His eyes were already shining at the prospect. Knowing him, he’d probably get too tired to bother for very long.

The teen shot up from his seat and rushed to the taller man’s side. “I thought you said you wouldn’t teach me how to fight off those freaks from the woods?” Technoblade shook his head until the braid running down his back bobbed. “Oh, this won’t help with those guys. Trust me. But a little time to figure out how to defend yourself from the average thug would benefit anyone, and I want to blow off some steam. You up to the challenge?” “Boy am I!” Tommy followed Technoblade as the man made for the door. He had to slow down to keep up with Technoblade’s more leisurely pace. With all that excess energy, though, he might as well have been vibrating between each step.

“So what are we using, big man? Swords? Guns?”

“You said you wouldn’t show him how to use a sword,” I said quickly. “And no guns. Absolutely not.”

Technoblade rolled his eyes. “Didn’t plan on either of those, actually. You ever swing an ax, Tommy?”

“Like, a battle ax? Or do you mean for chopping wood?”

“Either?” “Nope,” Tommy crowed, popping the ‘p.’

Technoblade let out a weary sigh that made me laugh. Not many people were equipped to handle Tommy. This man was probably another of the long line of people whose patience wasn’t built to stand against the challenge, but I had hope.

As I watched them retreat, I blinked and had to do a double-take. For a moment there, I could have sworn Technoblade’s blue clothes with white trim looked different. Shifted. More cream-white with red running down the sides like droplets soaking through the fabric. When I blinked again, the image righted itself and his clothes were clearly a pristine pale blue.

Tommy continued to badger poor Techno with questions about whether or not it would be a ‘real’ fight when they shut the door behind them.

“Maybe sending them to blow off some steam was a good call,” I said with the smallest of chuckles. I pulled my eyes away from the shut door to where Phil was taking the catch off a roll of gauze. “Tommy’s great and all, but the kid doesn’t know how to contain himself.”

“He seems like a handful. Here. Hold onto this if you would,” He passed me the loose roll of gauze and reached for a bottle of antiseptic. “Let’s get a better look at that ankle.” Gently, he pulled back the fabric of the bottom of my trousers.

The motion didn’t hurt, but I let out a hiss at the sight of the angry mark wrapped around my ankle. The skin was already bruising a dark purple where the creature had its fingers wrapped around me. Four shallow scratches, barely big enough to bead blood, ran from the top of my shin down to my foot where its claws had dragged the moment I kicked loose. In the gap where my skin had been exposed between the bottom of the trousers leg and my sock was a fiery red rash. The veins running beneath it were clear through the damaged skin. They leached out from the bruise, breaking up into smaller and smaller capillaries. I could feel the throbbing sensation pulsing from that point through the rest of my leg and foot. No wonder it hurt so much.

Phil let out a small gasp as soon as he saw it. His head flinched back. “Looks like they got you good.”

I gritted my teeth and looked away. Anything else in this room had to look more appealing than my leg right now.

“Good lord! I didn’t realize it was that bad. They just grabbed me… I knew I would have a bruise or a sprain but not something like this. No wonder it feels like shit.”

Phil’s hands hovered over the worst of the rash as he considered how to approach cleaning it. “I was hoping for just a sprain, but it looks like ya got unlucky,” he said without looking up. “They’ve got something like a poison up their sleeves. Don’t always use it, but this time it looks like they did.”

“What, like a snake bite?” I scoffed.

He shook his head. “Nothing nearly so… deadly. But it’s not pleasant either. Gonna feel like shit.”

“I take it you and Technoblade had to live through that unpleasantness at some point?”

He shook his head again. “Nah. Not us, but I’ve seen what it does. Here.” With that, he flipped over the bottle and dumped its contents all over my leg.

The antiseptic STUNG. Almost as bad as the rash. The smell didn’t help to keep the tears out of my eyes either. I gritted my teeth to bear it while the rash practically sizzled.

“Oi, watch it! You nearly kicked me.” “Sorry,” I sputtered. Some sort of fabric brushed against my ankle. Phil must have finished cleaning the wound and started wrapping it. When I turned back to look, Phil’s cloak moved. My eyes locked onto the folds of his black cloak. That. I could focus on that instead of my leg. The fabric was shifting as he moved. It rustled and twitched, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw feathers poking out from between the diamond patterns.

“Does that feel better?” “Huh?” My eyes snapped back to Phil’s blue eyes.

“How does that feel?” he asked with a smile. “Not too tight?”

When my eyes trailed down his back again, all I could make out was fabric. I must have imagined the feathers.

“Y-yeah. It feels fine. Not too tight.”

“Good.” He flipped the lid of the first aid kit closed. “That should take care of it for a while now. I’m no doctor, but it would be smart to avoid putting weight on it. That’s what the crutch is for. Give it the night, see how you’re feeling in the morning, and I’ll take another look at it then.”

He scooped the crutch off the ground and held it out for me. I slid to the edge of the chair and took it. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, really,” I insisted, pushing off from the chair. It took some effort to balance. I teetered as I figured out how to leverage the crutch, but Phil was right there with an arm hovering, waiting to reach out if I needed it. After a few seconds, I got a feel for how to best adjust my weight without havint to use my bum ankle. “I appreciate the help,” I admitted. I was now confident enough with my balance to tap the crutch against the floor. “You and Techno didn’t have to put up with us for the night, and you certainly didn’t have to go to this length.”

His blue eyes flashed, and for a moment they looked far too deep and far too vast. Like an ocean in an iris, or the dome of the sky. “Pffft, as if I was just goin’ to leave ya out there. As if. As much as Techno might have put up a good front, he’s not all that bent out of shape about it. If he minded that much, he wouldn’t have rushed off to go play with Tommy.”

I paused, blinking wide-eyed at him. “Play?!”

Phil’s smile grew a little wider. “You heard what I said. Trust me, I’m sure those two are having fun. I can also say with one hundred percent certainty that it’s no skin off our back. You’re welcome here.”

I opened my mouth to thank him once more, but he wrapped his arm under mine in a show of support and cut me off before I could even start. “Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s getting late and I’m starved,” he said. “Any chance I can talk you into helping out in the kitchen?”

______________________________________________________________

Helping out in the kitchen mostly consisted of sitting on a stool and chopping vegetables while Phil did most of the work. It was a big kitchen for two people, but Phil had an odd way of filling the space. He easily fluttered back and forth between burners and the icebox, counters and the cupboards. Sometimes he swung the hinged doors open and shut as he went. Sometimes he left drawers and cupboards open well after he pulled out what he needed. In no time at all, he had multiple pots boiling and a roast in the oven.

As he worked and I chopped, we talked about life. He politely asked about the basics of my life. Where Tommy and I were from, what I liked, what kind of career I was pursuing. He never pushed for details if I didn’t outright give them to him. And in turn, he told me a few stories about his life before coming to this castle.

It made me a little jealous, hearing about how he had flown all over the world when he was younger. Literally. He had even gone so far as to spend some time in the Antarctic. That would explain why he didn’t mind the winter chill here. I can only imagine the types of people he met. The things he saw. I hung on to every word.

Not all of it sounded like a walk in the park. He didn’t push for details in my life, so I tried to extend the same courtesy, but my curiosity was in full swing as he talked about dog fights over the ocean and the civil wars that he and Techno had fled.

I guess that was some of what Technoblade was hinting at when he mentioned that the last time he mingled with people, it didn’t turn out so well.

By the time the roast came out of the oven, Technoblade popped his head in to check on the time. He and Tommy had called it quits on their little sparring session. They set the table while Phil transferred potatoes and vegetables onto platters for serving. Everything got moved to a cozy dining room with a small table looking out of place in the regal space. It was big enough to seat six at maximum but perfect for the four of us. I didn’t do any of the prep work. I hobbled out of the kitchen and took a seat at the table where Phil pulled out a chair for me.

“So, how was the sparring session?” I asked as I poured gravy over my cut of roast. I still had my doubts that Tommy had bothered with strenuous physical activity for as long as he was gone.

Tommy speared a carrot so hard his fork clattered against the plate. “Fuckin’ boring. Techno kept trying to show me ways to hold the ax and swing it. Everyone knows how to swing an ax.” He mimed the motion with his fork, swinging it over his head to the point where I was afraid the carrot might fall off.

“Always start with the basics,” the pink-haired man said evenly. “You seemed pretty excited when it finally clicked that moving your shoulders with the motion did more damage to the target.”

“That was just me unlocking my big, powerful muscles.”

“Uh-huh.”

Phil folded his hands in front of him, propping his elbows on top of the table so he could rest his chin against his knuckles. “So I take it you wouldn’t be interested in another lesson tomorrow morning?”

Tommy brought his fork back down to his plate and straightened up in his chair. His eyes flew wide with giddy excitement. “Wait, is that an option?”

Both me and Phil laughed at the same time over that. “So I guess it wasn’t that boring after all?”

“...Maybe.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Tommy,” I teased. Tommy sputtered a handful of unintelligible syllables as he tried to think of a comeback while I turned to Technoblade. “He didn’t give you too much trouble, did he?”

“Excuse me, I was an absolute angel!”

Techno finished chewing his bite of the roast before setting his knife and fork down on the napkins folded on either side of his plate. This guy had been the perfect image of prim and proper as he ate, as opposed to Phil who was comfortably slumped in his chair as he shoveled a few bites of roast beets into his mouth.

Techno shrugged. “The kid picked up a few things pretty quickly. I wouldn’t mind going over a few more forms tomorrow morning.”

Phil shot me a lopsided smile from across the table and wiggled his eyebrows as if to say ‘see? I told you so.’

Tommy didn’t seem to be sporting any fresh bruises or cuts, so I chalked it up to a good thing.

“What about you two,” Techno asked.

“I’d say our evening was pleasant,” I said as I cut into my portion of roast. “Phil had a lot of very interesting stories to tell. It sounds like you two have had quite the adventure.”

“Really?” Techno shot Phil a look. “What kind of adventure did you discuss?”

“Just the Antarctic and a few of our side excursions.” Phil popped a chunk of potato into his mouth and twirled his fork through the air as he chewed.

Technoblade relaxed a little deeper into his chair. “Ha! Yeah, those were great times. I’m sure Phil gave you the rundown on how we ticked off our neighbors.”

“Of course I did.”

“It’s given me a lot of my own ideas. You should hear all about it, Tommy. It’s a really good story.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You might learn something new.”

“Don’t care. Hard pass.”

I snorted. “I’ll just tell you about it on the way back home.”

He pulled a disgusted face, but I ignored it.

With a bit of insistence on my part, Phil hit the highlights of what he told me. This time, Techno was nearby to provide his input. It wasn’t much, but the pink-haired man would offer a “humph” of agreement here and there, or offer a few extra details of what he worked on while the two of them were working apart. Tommy perked up at the talk of business and air battles and rolled his eyes when it came to the political impact of it all. I found it just as interesting to listen to the second time around as it was on the first.

The topic began to drift as time went on and we cleaned our plates. We talked about our day, about me and Tommy’s hometown, and what we were studying. Phil and Techno talked about how they filled their days with hunting, horse riding, and dog-breeding… apparently.

To be honest, I was enjoying myself. Whatever tense feelings from earlier were gone. The atmosphere was warm and cozy. We were just a couple of people getting to know each other and sharing a few laughs.

But as I polished off the last of my food, something caught my eye.

It was such a little thing. I’m not even sure what made me notice it.

It’s just that, wasn’t Technoblade drinking a glass of water a moment ago?

The glass in his hand was stained red. Red like wine, but when his arm moved the liquid inside looked thicker than alcohol.

I looked over to see if there was a bottle of wine on the table I hadn’t spotted before, but when I did, the unnatural movement of something along Phil’s shoulder pulled my attention.

Had Phil swapped out his cloak?

There were feathers along the trim instead of fur.

I found myself looking back and forth between the two. Their laughter and Tommy’s wild shouting faded into the background. I could still hear them, but the words were muffled in my ears. The longer I looked at our two hosts, the sharper their outlines appeare.

That was when I noticed that there was something else there.

It was like someone had superimposed an image on top of what I was seeing. On one hand, I could clearly make out Phil and Technoblade. They looked just how I expected them to look. Phil’s near-endless sky-blue eyes, blond hair, and always-present smile. Technoblade’s long braid, mouth set into a thin line, and subtle amusement crinkling at the corners of his eyes. That was there. That was them. But there was also something else where they sat. Something hazy around the edges. Something that gave me the impression of long tusks and hunched wings.

I squinted my eyes, trying to make out what I could possibly be seeing.

Then Technoblade noticed me staring and turned to face me.

As soon as our eyes met, the hazy image flared like a sunburst. Colors and shapes solidified and then washed out like an overexposed photo. Dark eyes glinted red and violent.

“Wh-”

I dropped my fork, and the other image vanished entirely.

Phil’s eyes locked on me, sky blue sharpening to pale steel. “Is something wrong, Wilbur?” I dragged my attention back to him, sucking in a breath. He was looking at me with a curious tilt to his head.

I dared to steal another glance at Technoblade. His eyes were thrown wide open, shoulders held stiff. It was the most emotion I had yet to see the man show.

He put down his glass. It was filled with water. Regular, clear water.

Phil leaned forward in his seat, shoulders stooping as his elbows rested against the tabletop. The trim at the top of his cloak was lined with fur.

“I…. I’m fine.”

“You sure, mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ghost? More like a monster. I shook my head as if that could knock the image of what I thought I just saw right out of my thoughts. “It’s nothing,” I insisted. “I think the stress of the day is starting to get to me.”

Phil and Technoblade exchanged a glance. “And what makes you say that?”

“I think I might be starting to see shit. Call it PTSD or whatever the fuck you like, but I feel like I’m starting to imagine monsters.”

“Like the ones that chased us?” Tommy asked.

“Kind of.” A shudder ran down my spine and goosebumps ran up my arms. A sympathetic twinge pulled at my ankle, and I adjusted it beneath my seat. My imagination must have been running wild. What I saw had been just as unnatural as the creature that had grabbed me, but it made my heart rate spike in a way that not even the run through the trees had managed to do.

“Please excuse me.”

Technoblade abruptly pushed back his seat, grabbed his cutlery, and in a few brisk steps he was out the door.

Tommy frowned and turned to Phil for answers. “Where’s Techno going?”

His bright blue eyes narrowed. The creases around his eyes grew for a moment as something akin to worry passed over his expression. I could have imagined that too, though, because in the blink of an eye that easy breezy smile was back on his face. He waved off Tommy’s question with one hand. “Off to his room, probably. He’s a creature of habit. He’s got his own set of nightly rituals like anyone else.”

“Will he come back out?”

Phil hummed. “Probably not. He’ll be up bright and early tomorrow, though.”

“Well, alright I guess.” Tommy made no effort to hide his pouting. He slumped deeper into his seat.

“We got a late start on dinner as it was,” Phil mused, drumming his fingers against the table. “Maybe it would be a good day to follow his lead. Hit the hay. What do you two think?”

“Yes, please,” I groaned, carding a hand through my hair. “Before I start having any more waking nightmares like a crazy person.”

Phil flinched. I know for a fact I didn’t imagine that one.

“I am perfectly fine.” Tommy stuck his nose in the air. “But if you were to show us where we’ll be sleeping then I demand the biggest luxury suite you’ve got.”

Phil pushed back his chair and stood up. “Right. We’ve got a couple of spare rooms in the east wing. I’ll show you where to go. Leave your plates. I’ll come back for them later.”

________________________________________________________________

“Did you actually have fun today, Tommy?”

“I’m not sure if fun is the right word, Wilbur. We were chased through the woods by ugly beasts.”

“Fine. Let me rephrase. Did you actually have fun learning how to swing an ax? Not too sore, are you?”

“It was alright.”

Tommy pulled his legs up onto the bed he would be using for the night. His words were nonchalant, but his eyes were shining.

“So if we were to leave without you doing another sparring session with Technoblade, you wouldn’t be disappointed?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up there, bub.” Tommy’s voice shot up a couple hundred decibels. “I never said that.”

I chuckled.

Me and Tommy finally had some time alone. Phil had been kind enough to show us to our rooms and leave us be. Breakfast was in the morning, and he made it clear we were welcome to stay after that for a bit. Noon would be the best time to travel safely, according to him. Considering he was the one who knew how to swing a sword and scare off monsters, I trusted his better judgment.

Tommy let himself flop backward against a row of pillows. “This place is cool. So are Technoblade and Phil. It’s crazy we’ve never realized they were out here this whole time.”

“We’ve never had much reason to leave the path.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that. I can just imagine what Tubbo’s doing right now. He’s so obsessed with me. He probably can’t sleep.”

As hyperbolic as Tommy tended to be, I couldn’t help the seed of guilt that had rooted itself in my gut. The truth was, Tommy might be right about that. “We’ll clear it up when we get back. Eventually, we’ll look back at this and laugh.” “Maybe I can make it up to him by showing him this place. Go when it’s nice and bright out and freaky shit isn’t happening.”

“Techno didn’t seem all that interested in us stopping by unprompted. Might want to warn him if you plan on bringing Tubbo.” The castle might not survive the two of them together.

Tommy snorted. “Sure I will,” he said. It was an utter lie, with all the sarcasm he could possibly inject into his voice. Oh well.

“Hey Tomm, you uh… You didn’t notice anything strange at dinner, did you?”

“Other than the fact that you ate something as disgusting and shitty as vegetables, no. Why?”

“No reason.”

He tilted his head to get a better look at where I was seated at the end of the bed. The crutch leaned precariously against one of the bedposts. I noticed him looking, how his eyes trailed down to my ankle even as I tried to keep my gaze on the moon hovering just outside the window.

“How you feeling, Wilbur?” “I’m fine, Tommy.”

“And the, uh… the ankle?”

“I barely notice it.”

That wasn’t entirely true. It still throbbed on occasion, and though Phil had wrapped it tight and cleaned it well, the rash was starting to smart beneath the gauze. The stinging wasn’t unbearable, though. If anything, I took that as a sign that it was starting to heal. This had to be the itch before it began scabbing over. As long as I didn’t jostle the sprain too much, it was manageable.

“You sure?”

I threw a pillow at his face. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“Hey!”

Tommy wasted no time flinging another couple of pillows directly at my face. The downy surface packed a surprising punch. I battered them away as best as I could with an elbow until Tommy grew tired and slumped back against the mattress.

“Seriously, Wil. If you don’t feel up to it tomorrow, just say something. I’d hate it if a weak, fragile thing like you are now went and hurt yourself further. Protecting you all through the woods would be a tall order, even for me.”

The smile dropped off my face because for all Tommy’s bluster, I knew what he really meant.

He’s worried about me.

Wasn’t that a scary thought? It was supposed to be the other way around, what with me being so much older than him.

I tried to play it off with a bit of humor. “I think we might drive Phil and Techno up the wall if we stuck around longer than necessary.”

“They’d let us stay,” Tommy said without an ounce of doubt. He propped himself up on an elbow as he lay on his side to get a better look at me. “They seem cool like that. And it’s not like staying another night would be awful. I mean, it’s a fuckin’ castle.” He waved his hand out above him, letting his fingers wave at the ancient walls and ceiling.

He wants to stay longer.

My ankle twinged with a pinprick of pain.

“I’ll tell you what. Let’s see how I feel in the morning. Okay?”

“Alright.”

“Good.” I patted my palm against the side of the mattress and reached for the crutch. “Now get some sleep. It’s late. We’re both exhausted, and I don’t think I can stand spending any more time around you right now,” I teased.

“I’m not exhausted,” he huffed, only to immediately let out a yawn.

“Sure you’re not.”

With a heave, I was propped back up on the crutch and my one good foot. My crutch tap tap tapped against the tile floor as I made my way across the room.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Wilbur.”

“Night, Tommy.”

I left the candle flickering on the nightstand for the teen to put out whenever he was ready. The door clicked shut behind me and I began my clumsy trek back to the room next door. It was late, and now that Tommy was all squared away I was allowing my worries to settle. Exhaustion really was finally dawning on me.

I was going to sleep hard tonight, as long as I could find a way to get comfortable and not jostle my foot too much.

____________________________________________________________________________

The sun filtered through the gap in the heavy curtains. I could feel its warm rays against my back. It felt good to lie in bed a little longer than necessary, basking in the heat of the sun like a cat.

It was morning.

It had been a blissful, dreamless night.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It even looked pleasantly warm out, if the dwindling snow on the ground was anything to go by. Tommy and I should be safe to go back home now.

Phil and Techno had been pleasant last night. I wasn’t necessarily in a rush, but I was also very aware of the fact that we hadn’t had the chance to tell anyone where we were. Tubbo had been expecting us to show up last night. He would have panicked when we never did. That would take some apologies and smoothing over once we got back.

With a deep breath, I pulled myself out from under the covers and began to get ready for the day.

It wasn’t hard. I only had the clothes on my back, and Phil and Techno hadn’t pointed out a shower last night. Just the nearest, bare-bones bathroom they had set up. It was probably somewhere on the other side of the castle. I’d have to ask them about it. For now, though, I settled for passing a comb over my hair and straightening my clothes as best as I could.

A quick glance outside gave me a beautiful view of the rising sun glistening across the frozen river. Red streaks worked their way across the shallow hills in long lines, highlighted by tha shadow of tall grass and snow. They wavered in the rising sun as if they were moving, the landscape practically breathing.

Like the day outside, it felt like things were looking bright. My leg was no longer stinging. The throbbing had gone down, but not quite stopped. There was a pep in my step as I tried to make the room look as tidy as it had been before I showed up. It seemed rude to leave the bed a mess, so I straightened the sheets a little before hobbling out the door.

Tommy’s room was right next to mine. I stopped at the door and rapped my knuckles against it. “Morning, Tommy!”

“Wh-wha…”

He was never much of an early riser.

“Wake up, sleepy head.”

“Go away, Wil. Let me sleep in peace.”

“Aw, and I thought you would be excited to wake up in a castle and head down to breakfast.”

“Phil or Techno can come to wake us up when they're ready for that shit. They never gave us a time. Now go away and let me sleep.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. If you miss breakfast, that’s all on you.”

A few grumbled curse words filtered through the door. That was all I was going to get out of him until he was ready to come out on his own time.

That was fine. There was an entire castle for me to explore. I wasn’t sure where Phil or Technoblade would be, but I wasn’t Tommy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me looking around the place as long as I didn’t touch anything that looked important. It wouldn’t hurt to check out a few side corridors while on my way down to the dining room. And if Phil and Technoblade weren't there, then I was sure there were a few rooms nearby I could check out. They both seemed like learned men. Perhaps they had a library around here somewhere?

I lowered myself down a staircase with some difficulty and found myself in a particularly fancy hall. There were glass cases with all sorts of odds and ends on pedestals. Pieces of pottery, old maps, measuring equipment, and a handful of decorative weapons were displayed prominently, as were beautiful hangings made from quilted fabrics; tapestries, pendants, and flags. They depicted old civilizations and glorious battles. I took it all in excitedly as I walked.

It also looked like someone had already been this way.

Fires were lit down the length of the hall. Torches were placed in sconces to light up the darker corners while braziers and lamps took care of the bulk of the lighting. That was a good sign that someone had come through recently to light them all.

I was so busy taking everything in, it was surprising to hear something other than the crackle of the torches.

Babump!

What was that?

I whirled around, taking in the fine masonry with all its cracks and chipped paint. Scanned the faded banners and tarnished braziers hanging from the ceiling by fine linked chains. Nothing seemed to have fallen. No rats were scurrying through the shadows in the corners from what I could see. I strained my ears, listening.

Babump!

There it was again. I know I heard something, but nothing moved. Nothing outside of the snap and crackle of the fire lighting the hall. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see if there was something else I could be missing. Anything else.

Babump!

The slightest bit of movement caught my eye. It wasn’t by the ground where a rodent might be trying to hide, or at eye level where any of the ancient decor stood, but up by the ceiling. There, in the corner where the light of the torches didn’t hit, something was sliding down the wall. It was so small and fast, that I was surprised I noticed it at all.

Gingerly, I made my way over until I stood beneath that same spot on the wall and craned my head back. Whatever it was it dripped down the stone. Something liquid, but thick and slow and dark. I couldn’t tell what it was in this light. I reached up.

Babump!

It dripped. A warm droplet hit the center of my ring finger and pooled down in the space where it met my pinky.

My lip curled up at the feel of it. Gross. It felt sticky. It stank of iron and looked ruddy like it had picked up some rust from wherever it seeped out of. I flicked my hand away, knocking as much of it off as I could. Dark flecks speckled the cobbled floor, but my hand was still stained and sticky.

When I looked back up at the wall, rivulets of the strange liquid started streaming down the cracks in the mortar. The first stream was already trickling past eye level down to the floor.

Babump!

Something dripped on my nose. With the forefinger of my already messy hand, I reached up and wiped at it. Sure enough, there was more of that dark liquid. The smell of iron was growing worse now. It was practically scathing against my nostrils. I did my best to wipe it off of my nose and clear away the smell. My skin wasn’t even dry yet when more droplets fell right in front of me. They splattered the floor in front of my toes. I looked up to see a large wet spot pooling in the ceiling. The droplets running down the wall were growing more numerous now. The seams between the stone bricks were starting to look more like little streams. A steady trickle of the dark liquid was running along the mortar paths. A small puddle was pooling at its base.

“Hey, uh, guys?” I called down the hall, hoping one of our hosts could hear. They couldn’t have gone far. Not yet. Someone had to have lit the fires. Surely if I shouted loud enough, they would notice. “I think you might have sprung a leak or something.”

Babump!

I felt more droplets splashing off the shoulders of my coat. I backed away. Hopefully that wouldn’t leave a stain. Whatever leak they had must have come on suddenly and quickly, because the dark water was now practically running down the walls. Had a pipe blown? Did this place even have running water?

“Hello! There’s a mess starting over here. Can you hear me? Phil? Techno?” There was no answer.

The puddle was growing bigger. About to reach my shoes. I backed further away. I shouted louder. “HEY! SOMETHING’S WRONG.”

Babump!

When I looked around, It dawned on me that this spot on the wall wasn’t the only one leaking. The opposite wall had streams of murky liquid running down it. The firelight danced across its slick, undulating surface. It roiled and flickered like angry red sunlight over deep dark rivers. It was getting harder and harder to make out the wall beneath it all.

Splotches were seeping through the brightly colored tapestries of knights marching, staining their bright white armor and horses into an ugly red.

Puddles were spreading out from the entire length of the hall as far as I could see. Even far off where the furthest brazier burned and the rest of the space fell into shadow, I could see the light flickering off wet walls.

And the smell! The smell!! It was so strong I could almost taste the metallic tang now. The sickly sweet notes now underlying the overwhelming smell of iron only made it worse.

This… this couldn’t be a burst pipe. Could it?

Babump!

The puddles were closing in. The ruddy liquid was pressing in from all sides. I looked behind me and there was more lapping at the heels of my shoes. I took a step, more to test the floor than go anywhere. The liquid felt oddly thick. Droplets splashed up onto my ankles.

I panicked.

“Help! Phil! Techno! Somebody! Can anybody hear me? Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong!”

I shouted it at the top of my lungs and took off as fast as my bum leg could handle. Having to use a crutch was horribly slow, and every time instinct tried to kick in and have me put my weight on it, horrible throbbing rocked that side of me.

“Something’s leaking! The hall is filling! What’s happening?!?”

Babump!

And yet it kept dripping down. Tapered streams of red poured off the ceiling and dripped off sconces and braziers so that their flames sputtered and threatened to go out. It was getting harder to slosh my crutch through the heavy liquid. It already pressed uncomfortably against both ankles, leaking into my shoes, and threatening to climb higher.

I spotted a light at the end of the tunnel, both figuratively and literally. There were shafts of light stretching out from a crack in a door. I zeroed in on that light and threw my all into getting there. Someone had to be inside.

I slammed my fists against the wood. “Who’s in there?! The hallway’s flooding!?! Please!”

Babump!

The door flung outwards and I shrieked.

Something was towering over me in the doorway. A beast that put to shame each and every one of the monsters that chased me through the woods. It had a bristly hide and cloven hooves. Eyes flashed an angry, fiery red, and beneath those were long tusks that dripped blood red.

Another scream dried up in my throat. I had half the thought to back away when my crutch slipped. It fell out from underneath me and I found myself tumbling backwards. My backside hit the growing pool of red liquid and sent foul-smelling blood seeping through my clothes.

Because that’s what this was. I knew it deep within my bones now. I was sitting in a massive hall flooded with blood. Blood that ran down the walls and threatened to fill the entire castle. Blood like the gore that dripped from the tusks of the monster that leaned closer and closer and closer…

I threw my arm up over my eyes.

Babump!

“Wilbur?”

Huh?

With some effort, I forced my eyes open and lowered the arm in front of my face.

There before me, standing in the doorway and looking over me with a surprising amount of concern was Technoblade. I took a shaky breath and flicked my gaze back and forth to look at my surroundings. The hall was pristine. Well, not pristine. It was still dusty and a little scuffed from years of boots passing over the threadbare carpets, but it was dry. Nothing was dripping from the ceiling or running down the walls. The floor was clear. My clothes weren’t actually soaked with red. I took a long, slow breath in through my nose and my heart soared as I realized there wasn’t a metallic tang in the air. It smelled a little musty, and that was all.

A hand waved in front of my eyes and pulled my attention back to the man in front of me. “Wilbur,” Technoblade said again, this time a little sharper. “Are you okay?”

“I… I-I… I…”

“Geez, man. Please don’t tell me you’re going into shock or something. I’m not equipped to handle that sort of thing.”

I didn’t trust my voice enough to form a coherent sentence, so I shook my head.

“Not shock?” Techno leaned further past me and looked up and down the corridor with wide eyes. “Phil is much better at this sort of thing than me,” he admitted, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. If he was looking for Phil, he was out of luck. Nobody else was nearby. I was surprised Techno was here in the first place.

“Let’s get you up off the floor. It’s gotta be cold down there.”

He stooped down to wrap his arms under mine. I braced myself to help push myself to my feet, but in the blink of an eye Techno had me back up on my feet. The motion was fluid and fast. As effortless as picking up a doll and plopping it back down.

“I-I just…” I swallowed a lump in my throat and tried pulling myself together. “I just heard something. I… I heard something and I don’t- I didn’t know what it was.” A nervous laugh bubbled up in my chest. “God, I must still be half asleep. You really scared me there for a second.”

Some of the tension in his shoulders uncoiled. The concern on his face began to fade. He let out a grunt. “Heard something? Mind describing it to me?”

I wasn’t about to tell him about a wall that bled faster than a heart could beat. I wasn’t.

“Rhythmic,” I started, and wanted to kick myself when my voice pitched high. “Booming, maybe? Just a couple loud thumps. Probably nothing worth concerning yourself about, I’m sure. Could have just been footsteps. There’s a second floor above here, right?” Better. My voice was closer to its normal register, but now my words were picking up speed. That was more believable, right?

To my surprise, Technoblade perked up. “Rhythmic, you say? I think I know what you heard.” He nodded his head towards the room he just emerged from and went back inside. “Here. I want to show you something.”

I took a moment to stop and process. Probably too long. I doubted that he knew exactly what I was talking about, but if there was some sort of reasonable explanation past that door, I was in desperate need of something to cling to that could prove I wasn’t going crazy.

Color me surprised when I followed him inside.

“Drums?”

The corner of Technoblade’s mouth turned up in the barest hint of a smile as he looked at the strung-up instruments. There were two padded mallets left on the mantle of a fireplace at the front of the room. The leather stretched across the drumheads was scuffed from plenty of use. When Techno looked back at me, he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

“Everyone’s gotta have a hobby,” he droned in that monotonous voice of his.

I laughed again, utterly relieved. That explained half of my hallucination, which was more than I could have hoped for.

I wiped at the corner of my eye. “Forgive me, Technoblade. I didn’t take you to be much of a musician.”

“Well, I’ve always been pretty good at dishing out hits. Phil likes to think that this allows me to put that energy towards a more creative option.”

That sounded a little more in line with what I knew about Technoblade so far.

He picked up one of the mallets and let it twirl across the back of his hand. The handle wobbled over the catch of his knuckles before falling neatly back into his palm. Then he pointed the fabric-wrapped tip at my chest. “You play?”

“Not the drums. I’m more of a guitar man myself. Had this dream of starting up a band one day and figured the guitar made the most sense. But now that I’ve said that, you wouldn’t happen to know how to work a full drumset, would you?” The massive bass and snare drums in front of me gave me hope.

Which was immediately snuffed out when he shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not that kind of drummer.”

“Then what kind are you?” “The war drum kind.”

I rolled my eyes. “Technoblade, I’m sensing a running theme with you.”

“Then that means I’m staying on brand.”

It was hard to argue with that.

“You know,” he continued, drawing the words out. With one hand, he reached out to run his fingers across the edge of the nearest drum head. He placed the drumstick back on the mantle with the other. “I do enjoy it. Outside of techniques and terminology, or even staying on brand, it gives me something else to focus on. It feels good.

“For instance, there’s nothing quite like the beat of a drum. It’s more than sound. The best bass drums can be felt deep in your bones.” He placed a hand on his chest over his heart. “Have you ever stood next to one as it’s being played?”

I had.

“You can feel every stroke in your chest. It resonates. Like a heartbeat. Thud. Thud. Thud.” With each spoken ‘thud,’ he pounded his fist against his chest. The fingers resting against the drumhead tapped in time, making tiny, hollow sounds in the instrument.”

I could imagine the thrum in my own chest, as clear as if I were standing next to the drumset on stage again.

“The sound goes for miles. And like a heartbeat, it’s good for keeping time. That’s why drummers played over the sounds of battle while men marched in time. They relaid orders by playing codified beats that the others had memorized. It kept the tempo while men bled for their country.”

His phrasing nearly made me shiver.

“If you look into the history of it, what you find might pique your interest,” Technoblade finished, pulling both hands back so he could clasp them behind his back.

“Huh. Interesting. I was under the impression Phil was the history buff.

Techno smirked. “He’s seen his fair share, but I’m fairly well-read.”

“So I take it that those antiques on display in the corridor are yours?”

He grunted. “Eh. Most of them. Comes with the territory. We are in a castle, after all. There’s a lot of history here as well.”

I turned my back on him so I could peer out the door. It perfectly framed a small glass case shoved against the opposite wall with a gold totem inside. “I can only imagine the stories they’d tell.”

“If the walls could bleed, would you listen to the kind of stories they would tell?”

A shiver crawled down my spine and whipped back around to face Technoblade. There was that odd tone of his again. The same one he used during the horse ride up to the front gates. It practically echoed with a thousand other voices, years and years of experience and expectation packed into an odd question. Experience and expectation that Techno didn’t appear old enough to have. He looked like he could have been a year or two older than me at the most, though, that odd sense of maturity did seem to ooze out of every aspect of his personality.

And what a question to ask. One that hit a still-fresh nerve.

My heart raced once more as crystal-clear images of red dripping down walls and soaking through tapestries ran across my mind.

I shook my head. “I don’t think I would, honestly.”

Something sparked in the back of Techno’s eye. That barest glint of amusement. He tilted his head at an angle and let a huff of air out of his nose. “Yeah. You don’t seem the type.”

What did that mean? I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s a weirdly specific question-”

SLAM!

I nearly leaped out of my skin as Phil rounded the doorframe and smacked his hand against the already-open door. “Hey, Techno, are you still practicing your… Oh! Wilbur! You’re up. And here. Good. I was planning on stopping by you and Tommy’s room next.”

Techno crossed the room to snatch up a few blankets resting on a chair. “What do you need, Phil?”

“I wanted to talk breakfast. I wasn’t going to make our guests help in the kitchen.” Phil’s eyes flicked to me. “At least, not this time.”

“I’ll help.” Technoblade spread the blankets out over the top of the drums with an apathetic look. Any hint of concern or amusement over what we were just discussing was gone.

I wanted to prod him further, but Phil was looking at me again with those vast blue eyes. “Is Tommy up too?”

I shook my head. “No. He chose to take full advantage of the opportunity to sleep in this morning.” ‘Well, it shouldn’t take more than a half hour for me and Techno to throw something together. I’ve already started some of the prep work. Could you go wake him up and have him get ready?”

“Of course. That should be no problem at all.”

“You remember where the dining room is, right?”

I nodded.

“Then I’ll see you both down there soon. We’ll have ourselves a nice breakfast.”

“That sounds nice,” I admitted. “It was nice hearing about your hobbies, Techno,” I said, turning back to him.

“I appreciate that. Maybe next time I could listen to you play guitar.”

Phil gave me a curious look. “You play guitar?”

“I do. Maybe I’ll play you both a sample of my music some other time.”

Phil flashed a brilliant smile. “Sounds like fun.”

On that note, I slipped past him and out into the hall. Phil waited until I had hobbled a few paces away before gently shutting the door behind them.

That had been a lot to take in all at once. I needed a moment. It took some effort, but I managed to maneuver the crutch so that I could sidle up against the wall. To my relief, it wasn’t slick. The stone was still perfectly dry. Not a spot of red in sight. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I just needed a moment to take a deep breath and remember how to get back to the guest rooms.

That’s what I told myself, until Phil and Technoblade’s voices began to drift through the shut door.

“Thanks Phil.”

“Of course. It seemed like you two were getting along there.”

“Perhaps.”

“How are you feeling?”

There was a pause and a shuffle of fabric. “...better. But I also feel like I owe him an apology. Last night… It was an accident. I didn’t mean to let myself get out of hand like that.”

Huh. Curiosity kept me in place. I perked my ears up to listen. ‘Out of hand’ was the last thing I would use to describe Technoblade.

“I know.”

“I think it happened again. Just now, when he knocked on my door-”

“I know.” Phil’s voice sounded tired. “You’re not used to having to hide like this. I’m not either, mate. If things were different, it wouldn’t have mattered and he wouldn’t have seen anything and I wouldn’t have had to step in just now. You wouldn’t have had to walk out last night.

“The kid’s fine, at least,” he continued. “But this… I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. With that mark on his ankle, it’s only going to get more difficult. We’ll have to be careful.”

I looked down at my leg. It was still throbbing, and the angry purple bruise was clear in the dim firelight. Do what on purpose? And were they talking about me? They had to be. Who else would have a mark on their ankle? I couldn’t imagine what that would have to do with anything.

“They should have left as soon as you chased off those eggheads.”

“I don’t think that would have helped this time, Techno. Getting them out of here might have slowed down the process, but I saw the mark. This isn’t a case of our rowdy neighbors playing with their food. They were going to pull him into their domain. There’s no going back from that, and we stopped it before it could go any further. He’s floating adrift.”

I latched onto every word they spoke, no matter how little sense it made. They spoke as gravely as one might discuss a funeral. Even Technoblade, who up until now seemed barely capable of much when it came to inflection, spoke with words so heavy it sounded out of place in his voice.

They were talking about me. They had to be. I was somehow adrift, whatever that meant, and it was because of my ankle. I shifted it, pulling it ever so slightly closer to my other leg, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw blood dripping down the walls once more. When I blinked, though, everything looked fine.

Perfectly normal, even.

“Is he going to be able to go back?”

Phil didn’t answer for a moment, and my breath caught in my throat.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, and the breath I was holding came out sharply. “If not, then I have a contingency-”

“Phil.”

“It’s fine, Techno.”

“Are you sure that’s even an option?”

“What, you wanna try?”

Another pause.

“He’s the one who said the pen is mightier than the sword. He sounded more like a politician, Phil. Not to mention he just failed one of my inquiries. It would never work if it were me.”

“Then let’s not argue over this. We’ll both just have to reign it in. I’ll try to convince them to stay another night. By then we’ll know for sure. If we have to take care of him, then we will.”

“What about the kid? Tommy?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure that part out once we’ve sorted out Wilbur.”

“I suppose I could make use of him in my domain if I absolutely had to. Seems bloodthirsty enough.”

“Let’s not talk like that. Keep your chin up, mate. A couple of old souls like us finally have some company out here. Maybe we can ask them about what the world’s been like for the past couple of decades.”

“Alright. I’m done with the drums for today. How about the two of us make breakfast first, then we check in on those two?”

“Good, ‘cause I’m starving.”

They were coming. I couldn’t hear the footsteps behind the door but they sounded like the conversation was over. I was still eavesdropping right next to the door that they would be walking out of any second. My heart leaped in my chest and I bolted as fast as my injured leg would allow. The crutch tap tap tapped down the hall.

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darkone09 · 19 days

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Hello my Readers,

It has been a difficult month for me and I apologize that I haven’t been active as I wanted to but I know you’ll all miss reading new chapters so here I am and with one that is a little longer than the previous ones but feel this needed to all be as one.

So without further ado, here is the newest chapter for Honor Above All with some aspects into the different views between Yautja and humans, one I believe many will understand.

As per schedule, the next update will be Respect and The Ripple of a Stone and hopefully sooner than before.

Thank you all and Good Hunting!!!! :);):):):)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31018883/chapters/139898674

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abhainnwhump · 7 months

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IMYM Chapter 1

Sadistic Experiment: Nightmare

Masterlist || Next Chapter ->

Snap.

He didn’t even need to turn around. Dream’s arrows glowed with bright blue light, so they were too easy to spot. His idiot brother should have thought that through when he designed them. Nightmare’s black tendrils splintered the attack into two.

The Lord of Negativity strolled across the field without a care in the multiverse. The screams and bloodshed meant nothing to him. He attacked Birdtale for a reason. Besides the fact that this AU was obnoxiously cheerful, it was the perfect place to draw the Star Sanses to. The jagged cliffs, dark sky, and high altitude made it difficult for the Stars to fight together. The monsters fled the scene long ago, which gave the teams more fighting room. Nightmare dodged another of Dream’s arrows as he surveyed the current status of his team.

Dust had Blue in a one-on-one battle. The hooded skeleton locked the Star in a miniature arena made from sharpened bones. Blue bounced around, swinging his giant hammer made of teal magic. He used one of the fallen trees as a springboard to gain the upper hand. While he was full of energy, Dust showed no emotion, which wasn’t uncommon for him. His movements were robotic and bored, like he wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t here. Even his pistols were slower than usual.

Across the field, Dream tried to fight off Killer while watching out for Horror. Killer flirted with Dream between strikes, making them blush and scowl in embarrassment. Nightmare smirked at his awkward aura. Dream bashed Killer’s ribs with his bow before drop-kicking him. Nightmare assigned Killer to distract his attention. Usually, he would handle his twin, but this time, he was after a different member of the team.

From the corner of his teal eyelight, he caught Horror sneaking up behind Dream. He gripped his blood-coated ax tight. Horror glanced over to Nightmare, and he winked in response. Horror raised the weapon above the guardian’s head and shot it down for a clean slice. Dream must have sensed his emotions due to him spinning around and screaming. He fiddled for his bow, but it would have been pointless.

A blast of black paint stuck Horror’s forearm to the cliff wall. Nightmare stepped behind one of the pine trees, laying his back against it as he smirked in anticipation. Ah, there he was.

The attacker was an athletic skeleton in a brown and white outfit, wielding a paintbrush as tall as he was. He was around five-foot-seven. He wore a sash of colorful paints across his chest. Black paint smudged his left cheekbone, the edge hiding behind a thick brown scarf covered with black marks. Ink’s shifting eye lights glinted with mischief. He flipped Broomie and held it out to Horror. “Come on, eggshell! Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to chop someone’s head off? I didn’t think that head injury of yours would destroy your common sense.”

Horror growled. No one talked about the oversized crack in his skull, especially as a joke. The larger skeleton ripped his arm free, tearing his pale blue sleeve in the process. Dream took his chance to slip beneath his arm and run toward Ink. “Thank you. Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” he said.

“Pfft, you’re fine,” Ink assured. The artist looked around with a red question mark in his left eye socket. “Now where did Killer go-”

A knife sliced his small brown jacket. Killer leaped down from whatever perch he was watching from. He and Horror circled their prey. The two Stars stood back-to-back. Dream loaded their bow, and Ink spun his paintbrush. Nightmare itched to join the battle, but he knew he had to wait. If he planned this out correctly . . .

Ink pulled one of his paint vials from his sash. Dream spotted it and gulped, shaking his head. “Ink, no. You’ve been having bad effects with-”

“It’s going to be fine. Calm down!” Ink ignored him and downed the red drink in a single gulp. His eyes turned into a crimson target and an exclamation point. A sharp smile spread across his face, matching Nightmare’s grin. This was what he was hoping for.

Killer and Horror launched themselves at the Stars. Dream shot an arrow to knock Killer’s knife out of his hold. Blood oozed from the wound in his hand, but Killer didn’t budge. The knife was still tight. Ink went on a rampage, throwing spears of black paint at Horror. Nightmare fed on the emotions caused by the red vial. Anger, aggression, and obsession. Ink chose a target, and he wouldn’t let them go.

Now.

Nightmare waved his black skeletal fingers and focused on Ink’s aura. It was his first time trying his magic on the artist. Ink lacked a soul, unlike the rest of the Stars, so his solution was to drink bottles of paint. He never understood how that worked. Nightmare had never tried to manipulate artificial emotions before, but it was easier than he expected. All it took was intense concentration. He channeled Ink’s new anger elsewhere.

Ink froze mid-attack, clutching his skull and stumbling. Horror stepped back, unsure what to think of this sudden change. Nightmare twisted his wrist, and Ink gritted his teeth. He threw one of his paint daggers at Dream.

“Dream,” he said, speaking as if the word hurt. “DUCK!”

The golden guardian followed his advice, and the dagger hit Killer instead. Killer stared at the now-solid paint protruding from his upper rib. “Are you serious?”

“Ink, what’s wrong?” Dream asked, “Why are you attacking me?”

Ink didn’t answer, only narrowing his eye sockets. Fury burned through his bones as Nightmare squeezed his hand into a fist. He harnessed Ink’s worst memories and feelings about his twin. Despite being on the same team, there are a select few topics they’ve never seen eye-to-eye on. He subconsciously told him to fight Dream. He warned him that if he didn’t, he would suffer humiliation and pain. The artist cringed, and Nightmare felt a tug in his hand. He’s fighting back. Interesting.

Straining, Nightmare poured all his power into controlling Ink’s emotions. He screamed and fell to his knees. Dream ran over to his friend and placed his hands on his cheekbones. Golden magic flowed from his fingertips, feeling like pins and needles against Nightmare’s magic.

Ink’s eye sockets fluttered as he shook his head and groaned. With a bit more encouragement, he flipped Dream on his back and wrapped his hands around his neck. Dream coughed and kicked, trying to get his friend off of him. Neither Killer nor Horror knew how to react to Ink’s behavior change. Killer glanced at Nightmare, pointed the tip of his knife at the Stars, then air-sliced it across his neck. Nightmare shook his head and whispered, “Not yet.”

“Get-out-of-my-head!” Despite his grip on Dream, Nightmare knew Ink was trying to talk to him. Between the fake emotions, Ink’s defiance, and Dream’s positivity, Nightmare struggled to keep him under his control. Dream’s powers are just about balanced with his. He made a note of the latter two; it would be important later. Nightmare’s eyelids went heavy, and his black apple soul started to ache.

Dream’s eye sockets narrowed. “Ink, hold on. Just don’t fight me and I can help you!” He covered Ink’s mouth with one of his hands and held the other up, summoning golden light that practically radiated positivity. He cried out and shoved it down onto Ink’s torso. Tendrils of yellow spread across his body and Nightmare winced. The black malice on his hands dripped and burned. He pulled his hand back and snapped his fingers, setting Ink free. The artist gasped as his eye lights switched back to their default: a green circle and a yellow star.

Dust was distracted by Ink’s screams and the gold light; he dropped his attacks for a few seconds. Blue took the opportunity to smash his hammer into Dust’s lower spine, releasing a loud thump. Dust fell to the ground, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Blue put his hammer back on his shoulder. “Dream? Ink? Do you guys need backup?”

“No, it’s okay, Blue. Everything is going fine.” Dream’s voice sounded raspier than usual thanks to Ink strangling him. It almost made them look intimidating. Almost. He watched Ink get back to his feet with dazed eyes before staring back at Nightmare. “Brother, I’m going to give you one chance. Leave this place and leave Ink alone! What has he ever done to you?”

Nightmare chuckled, stepping into the light. His hand was still distorted and it looked like the tips of his fingers were missing. “Nothing; he hasn’t done anything. Anything yet.”

“What?” Ink coughed and stared at him. “If I didn’t do anything to you, what the hell was that for?”

Nightmare didn’t answer, only smirking in response. Ink stared at him with his mouth agape, like he had told him a disturbing joke he only now understood. Dream huffed and summoned another bright blue arrow out of thin air. He loaded his bow and Nightmare prepared his tendrils to parry the attack, but Dream turned his heel at the last minute. The arrow shot into Horror’s open eye socket with extreme accuracy.

Horror howled and grabbed his eye socket, the pupil in his blood-red eye tiny with pain. Blood oozed between his clenched fingers. Even Dream winced at seeing him suffer so much; he never liked excessive violence. Seeing his team in pain, Nightmare scowled. Now his idiot brother has crossed the line.

The dark king stood up straighter. His form distorted, warping his body into an incoherent mess and his face into a melted monster. He hated how pitiful he must have looked. Dream’s aura and dissatisfied look did nothing to help.

“Killer! Horror! Dust! We’re leaving. My work here is done.” Nightmare’s body dripped more malice than usual, turning the grass from green to gray. The plants withered and crumbled at his feet. One of the tendrils shot across the field to grab Dust, who was obsessing over Horror’s injury. The smallest of the Murder Time Trio yelped at the black limb wrapped around his torso. Nightmare dragged the other two killers toward him. He held them by their hoods like a mother cat holding the scruffs of her kittens, keeping a close eye on Horror.

“Boss!” Killer complained, struggling in his tendril.

Nightmare ignored him. With his remaining tendril, he drew out a circle in the ground, wide enough for himself plus the others in his tendrils. With a shudder, the liquid malice turned into a whirling blue and black portal. Dream tried to say something, but Nightmare cut him off with a growl. “Don’t you dare pity me, brother. The look doesn’t suit you.” After a long glare at his brother, Nightmare jumped in, bringing his henchmen with him.

Birdtale’s pine trees and cliffs faded away and were replaced with gray stone walls, a high ceiling, and a throne with a tall back pedestal. Despite the minimal sunlight slipping through the grayed curtains, most of the hall was coated in darkness. The place was practically built out of negativity, and the energy and power soon seeped into his body. Soon his form returned to his preference: a tall skeleton in a white dress shirt, a black waistcoat, a teal tie, and heeled boots. A silver pocket watch dangled out of his right breast pocket. Nightmare was very picky about his fashion choices.

Killer, Horror, and Dust dropped to the ground. Dust winced as his rib cage crashed against the stone. Horror grabbed his hand and pulled him up with ease. His shot eye still bled, dripping through his closed lid, but it didn’t seem to be causing him pain.

“Why . . . we leave?” As deep as it was, Horror’s voice was no louder than a whisper. His head injury damaged his mind, leaving him with slurred speech and memory problems.

“Yeah, we were winning!” Killer protested, “Especially with whatever the hell you were doing to Inkblot. We could have taken over that AU!”

Nightmare considered a response. He still hasn’t told his team about the plan he had for Ink, even though he’s worked on it for almost four months. Once he started a project, he tended to refuse to tell anyone until he was certain it would be completed. Besides, the MTT’s expressions will be worth it if he hides the plan a little longer.

Nightmare cleared his throat and turned to them. “If everything goes according to plan, I’ll explain this evening. You three are going to need to trust me.” He had his hand on the door and pulled the long handle. “Besides, Horror is injured and needs medical care.”

“You and your bullshit plans . . .” Dust muttered to himself. Unfortunately for him, Nightmare happened to have excellent hearing for someone with no ears.

The dark king turned and scowled down Dust’s uneven eye lights, one red and the other a mix of purple, red, and blue. He hid under the brim of his baseball cap as Nightmare glared at him. “Are you doubting me? Because if you are, that’s a very bold move.”

Dust averted his eyes as much as he could. “No, boss.”

“Good. Now go heal yourselves up; it would be unfortunate if those injuries became infected. Killer, that includes you too.” Nightmare added the extra bit as he caught the hate-dripping skeleton attempting to sneak off. “I mean it, you can’t go walking around with an injured rib cage just as Horror can’t go around with a bleeding eye.”

Killer groaned but didn’t argue further. The dark king watched his team disappear to the infirmary. A half-smile crept on his face, but he waited for them to leave before he smiled fully. He left the throne room for his office.

When Nightmare first created his castle, he made sure his study was easily accessible, as it was the room he spent the most time in. He made it to the door with a full moon design. The long room had a high ceiling with a solar system design painted on it. Bookshelves lined the side walls with a mix of traditional hardcovers and scrolls. At the end of the corridor was a large dark wood desk covered in stacks of papers.

Nightmare sat in his black office chair. Each of his drawers had a black handle, though one had a matching lock. He shifted the shape of his pointer finger into a key. Breaking the lock, he pulled out a small, dusty-purple notebook with a single word branded on the cover.

INK.

The dark king flipped through the pages. Everything he knew and learned about Ink since he initiated this plan was written in black cursive. What he hated, what he loved, his apparent fears, and the traumas he learned about. He knew the least about the last one. Was the artist aware of this? No, of course not. He would never find out about this. It was his personal secret. In the middle of the notebook were his most significant notes. Ink’s paint vials.

Eight drawings were split into boxes across the two sheets. The left side was colored red, orange, yellow, and purple, while the right was green, blue, teal, and pink. Nightmare dipped his crow-feather quill in a pot of ink and wrote in the red box.

October 12, 20xx

As expected, the red vial controls anger, obsession, passion, and danger level. I theorize it even makes his magic stronger. With effort, the fury can be harnassed against any monster he feels a spark towards. He’s even willing to fight his friends. However, he resists my advances more than I thought he would. Plan PV appears to be the best option, unfortunately.

Nightmare leaned back in his chair, thinking of his next move. All but one box had writing in it—the pink vial. Plan PV was only a hypothesis, one that almost guaranteed success, but he didn’t want to use it. Nor was he certain it would even work. For all he knew, the pink vial could cause more destruction than production.

Destruction . . . AUs crumbling . . . strings . . . Error.

Oh, how he had been blind. It was such an obvious answer that could have saved him weeks of careful planning. The dark king growled at his own ignorance. Regardless, he couldn’t remain in his self-hatred if he wanted to get anything completed.

He shoved the notebook into his pocket and drew a portal into the ground. The sludge edges formed a light blue center, darkening as it opened up the world.

Nightmare went to find the Guardian of Destruction.

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blotomical · 10 months

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I desire to share this ache with you.

(POMR 3) previous chapter AO3

Mr. Plant is having a rough week. Argos stops by to cheer him up.

Word count: 2.1k Just to clear this up, the two of them aren't together in any of my oneshots yet :)

#i'm seriously so evil #you have no idea #this isn't fluff #this is psychological horror #fanfiction #fanfic #argos twomp #mr plant twomp #mr plant x argos #the world of mr plant #world of mr plant #twomp #twomrp #writing #oneshot #argos #mr plant #ashur gharavi #pomr

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lost-technology · 3 months

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Beholder

Trigun Body Horror Week Prompt # 1 - Eyes Universe: OG Trigun, Manga Summary: Monev the Gale encounters the eyes of the Diablo. Cage of Bone, Prison of Flesh - Story 1: Beholder For Trigun Body Horror Week @organsoutsidelovinglydescribed

#trigun #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #monev the gale #gung ho guns #trigun fanfiction #trigunbodyhorrorweek #trigunbodyhorrorweek day one #trigun body horror week #probably the lightest story in this collection #this one is a little more psychological than anything

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bg-sparrow · 9 months

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mcfly july 2023 || day 25 Timebomb

xv.

Marty squirmed when his evil counterpart dropped the watch in his lap.

“We’re on the same side of the mirror,” No Pines Marty said. “Every clock you’ve laid eyes on has been counting down to the moment you become me.”

Marty froze. They were all digital; he wouldn’t notice the seconds winding backward.

Restaurant – 12:56.

Bank – 9:17.

(He wasn’t seeing things when it changed to 9:16; he thought part of the “8” was burned out.)

Microwave – 2:00.

Now – 00:01:15.

“I’ll never be you,” Marty spat. “You let the Doc die.”

“No,” No Pines Marty admonished with a chuckle. “You did.”

#mcflyjuly #mcfly july #back to the future #bttf #a little psychological horror to start the day #made a joke about a Triple Pines Marty yesterday and inevitably thought of a No Pines Marty #so No Pines Marty is officially my Evil Marty #he's so bad #fanfiction #100 words #drabble #bttf moodboard #bttf aesthetics #moodboard

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darkgodcomplex · 11 months

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Reverend Wally

Wally X Reader

AO3 Link

Content Warning: Psychological Horror, Scopophobia, Religion and Religious Symbolism, Christianity, Demons

"Our father, who art in heaven-"

Hands clasped tightly together, you pray alone in front of the alter. It's far too late for anyone else to be here, but that is somehow more comforting in a time like this.

"-hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven-"

You stare up at the large pillars of the church, the tall sharp architecture and the stained glass windows. If it were day, the windows would show the stations of the cross, going through the entirety of the crucifixion. Now though, they're only dark and hollow, the reflection of the candle's light on the surface mimicking eyes.

"Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses-"

Are you speaking to no one? Will no one answer your prayers?

"-as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation-"

You feel a warm hand curl around your shoulder. They recite the last line of the prayer in unison with you.

"-but deliver us from evil."

You whip your head around only to see Father Wally Darling smiling down at you. You're used to seeing him in his mass attire, but now he wears more casual clothes. The only indication that he's a reverend is the small cross he adorns around his neck.

"Father-"

"Why are you here so late, my child?" He asks, tilting his head. His eyes are soft and kind, just as you always remember them.

"I-" You look at the floor, then back to the alter. "Father... have you ever performed an exorcism?"

He freezes, then chooses his words carefully. "Why would you be getting mixed up in such dark things?"

"I fear there is a demon following me." You tell him, standing from your kneeling position. "Or some dark energy, in the least."

Wally runs a hand over his chin, his eyes trained to the floor. "These things don't just appear. Did you-" His eyes flick up. "-invite them in somehow?"

"I swear, I have been faithful to you and our church." You bow your head. "But lately I feel as if I've been watched. Even now, I can feel the eyes boring into me." You glance around the dim chapel. The statues, the paintings, even the knots in the floorboards are eyes staring into your soul.

"Of course you have been loyal to me, my child." He grips your chin, moving your head so that you're staring into his eyes. "The only pair of eyes you have to worry about here are mine. This place is safe."

You grasp nervously at your hands, continuing to stare helplessly up at him. "Father, what am I to do?"

He lets go of your chin, running a hand through his hair. "We won't perform a exorcism, that is only for the most extreme of cases. We shall have a baptism of sorts."

"But I am already baptized." You tell him, confusion written all over your face.

"Of sorts, I said." Wally leads you up the steps to the alter. "It's bit different."

You let him take the lead, following his instructions as you set up the equipment. You've never heard of another type of baptism, but you trust that a reverend knows more about this than you do.

Once everything is set up, he motions with his hands, "Kneel before me, child."

You fall to your knees. It feels like worship.

He dips his hand into the water, bringing it to your face. You had watched him bless the water just moments earlier. He presses his thumb against your forehead, drawing some sort of shape. It doesn't feel like a cross.

"You've always been quite the dedicated follower." He whispers quietly, wet hand moving to now cup your cheek.

"Yes, father." You agree, unsure of where he is going with this.

"I wish to have you." He says, voice low. "What do you wish for in return?"

You blink up at him, "Have me?"

"Semantics." He brushes it off. "I merely mean to have you in the sense of a loyal worshipper of the church."

"Oh, okay." You pause. "I wish..."

What do you wish for?

"I wish to be safe."

"Oh, I would never let anything hurt you." He assures. Still, he extends his hand. "I wish to have you. You wish to be safe."

You're not quite sure what he expects from you, but you take his hand. He gives a large smile, holding your hand tight. "Thank you, my dear."

There's a gush of wind and the candles go out in the church, leaving you in darkness.

The eyes.

The only thing that is luminescent in the darkness are Wally's eyes. They glow, staring down at you. You yank away your hand, scrambling backwards as more eyes appear in the blackness. You have to escape.

You have the church layout memorized and move easily through the pews. The eyes appear everywhere, lighting your way. When you reach the door, you find that it's locked. You bang against it.

The window. Your hands scramble to find anything heavy. A small Jesus statue sits upon a table.

Sorry Jesus.

Taking the statue, you heave it against the window. Despite the statue's weight, the window doesn't shatter. It only stares down at you.

"Is this any way to act?" It's Wally's voice, but it's more distorted now. "I promised you that you would have your safety, didn’t I?"

"I didn't agree to this!" You protest, chest heaving. You feel cornered, the eyes are in every direction now.

"Oh, but you did." He laughs. "That's how it works, you shook my hand and made a wish. I'm keeping up my end of the deal."

Something grabs onto your ankle. You try to kick it off but it yanks you, making you fall to the floor.

"It's time to keep your end. Don't worry, I take good care of my playthings"

You're dragged further into the church, kicking and screaming.

This was never a holy place.

#wally darling #fanfic #fanfiction #horror #wally x you #welcome home #welcome home wally #psychological horror #religion #christianity #priest wally #wally x y/n #wally darling x reader #wally fanfic #scopophobia #demons

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sansxfuckyou · 2 months

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green

Summary: Danny's least favorite color these days is green

Warnings: horror, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I was thinking about Danny and the various ways the phandom likes to torture him, I'm not sure if this has been done yet, so I thought I'd try and bring something new to the table. I hope ya'll enjoy!

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

It was all green when he died. His eyes, his hair, his clothing, his blood, his voice, his vision- it was all green. He is green.

He bites back words because he sees the voice and it makes his vision flash this sickly green that makes him want to collapse. He scrapes his arm and all he sees is green and nothing but green, he's all green now.

Green with envy, green with greed, green with illness.

Danny chokes out quiet words every now and then, eyes shut and hands tangled in his hair to try and distract himself from the green it sparks. He can't do anything without seeing green, without feeling green, without being green.

Green, green like lettuce, green like money, green like his eyes.

He can't go to school because of how green it is, a pale and dull hue that isn't like the one he sees so often, but still green. It scuffs his eyesight and strains the way he sees the world and the people around him. He holds onto the blue he sees, the bright blue and the bright red because he can't pick apart colors that well these days.

He can see contrast and then he can see green and yellow and black and white and all the colors that make him feel like he's going insane. His sister's hair is a dull and sickly color, his fathers suit is a dull and sickly color, his mothers outfit is one of the few hues he can pick out. It's a bright beautiful blue, and sometimes he can see pink and red stand out amidst the green and chrome world he inhabits.

He's green now, he looks at his skin and he sees green peaking out of his veins and spilling onto his skin. He looks at his friends and he sees red when they bleed, when he bleeds it's slow. It's sluggish and oozes from lacerated skin, it stays put as it scabs and drys, bubbling up and holding surface tension.

When he's punched and blood needs to come up all he does is choke, he keels over and hacks and coughs and clutches at his throat and his chest as he tries to be the hero. He tastes limes and green apples when it hits his tongue and he reverts, torrents of green and red pouring out of his body, weakened from the fight. And then Sam and Tucker have to do it for him as his vision goes green, swirling and suffocating.

The other world makes him insane. It makes him scream and sob and run and collapse and hyperventilate and pass out.

Green, green, green.

He can't run he can't escape he can't make it go away.

Green, green, green.

His parents know they made it worse when they tried to help.

Green, green, green.

His retinas were melted in the portal never to recover.

Green, green, gone.

He can claw vivisect and tear himself open but he's still green.

Green, gone, gone.

He chokes and sobs and screams as he stares at the putrid hue but it's all he sees no matter what meds he takes.

Gone, gone, gone.

#danny phantom #phanfiction #danny fenton #tw psychological horror #sort of?? its been a while but it felt good to write #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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patchwork-crow-writes · 6 months

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Kris has a gift for their friend Ralsei - a brand new flavoured tea to try! What will he think of how it tastes? And perhaps more importantly, what will it say about how he feels towards Kris...? A fic exploring the flavoured tea mechanic in Deltarune, and some hitherto unexplored implications.

An actual new fic on AO3, wow! That makes a round 20, which is very pleasing to me :)

This one was fun to write, particularly the more disturbing moments that arise from it. But there are some nice bits at the beginning, so it's not all bad, right? :)

Any and all feedback gratefully received! Thanks for reading :)

#AO3 post #fiction #fanfiction #deltarune #Kris dreemurr #Ralsei #Flavoured tea #fluff #some horror #implied gore at the end #but nothing too heavy #more psychological than anything really #if that makes any sense whatsoever

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ice-cap-k · 16 days

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I Always Had Been Partial to the Color Blue (Part 2)

Hey! Got a new story for part of the 2024 MCYT Horror Gift exchange ( @mcythorrorgiftexchange ). Chapter 2 for @spicypotstickerbliss. I hope I did your request justice. I hope I did your request justice. I went a little wild with the prompt...

It's longer than my old whumptober stuff, so feel free to read it on AO3 here: I Always Had Been Partial to the Color Blue

CH 1

_________________________________________________

I went skidding as I rounded the corner that led to the guest rooms.

There was Tommy! The teen was slipping out the door to his room. He was rubbing sleep out of his eyes and trying to flatten the wrinkles in his tee shirt with the palm of his hand. My timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Tommy,” I hissed.

“Wil? Good morning to you, fine sir. I don’t know about you, but I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

I all but threw myself at him. I couldn’t let go of the crutch, but still I grabbed at his shoulder and refused to let go with my free hand. “Tommy, we have to leave. Now.”

He pulled back as if I had just slapped him. “What? But why?”

“Toms, please. I just need you to trust me on this.” Truth was, I didn’t have an answer. I couldn’t begin to pretend I understood half of what I overheard, but I didn’t need to understand to know that it didn’t bode well for me or Tommy.

Tommy only slapped my hand away. “No way. Technoblade said he would do another of those ‘sparring’ lessons with me,” he huffed. “And what about breakfast? Think about my poor stomach, Wil. I’ll never make it back home if I starve to death along the way.”

“And what if Techno’s not what he seems?” I blurted.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know!” I threw my hand up in frustration. “I overheard him and Phil talking. I don’t have the details and none of it made sense, but it sounded bad. Really, really bad.”

Tommy wasn’t convinced. His mouth twisted into a scowl as he gave me a skeptical glare. “What kind of ‘really bad,’ are we talking about?” He threw his hands up and flexed his fingers into quotes as he spoke.

Think. Think. I needed to piece together what I could remember of their conversation. “Techno said he could make use of you. That you were bloodthirsty enough for something.”

Tommy’s chest puffed up as pride set in. “So I did convince him of how strong I am! What are you talking about, Wil? That’s great news! Surely that means he’s ready to duel me man to man, eh?”

Somehow, that was even less believable than the reality of our situation. “What? No. That’s not- Forget it. That’s a bad example. Phil! Phil was talking about contingency plans and that they would have to ‘take care of me.’” I was an awful impressionist, but I deepened my voice to try and match the gravenness of Phil’s words.

Tommy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Uh, yeah. Because your ankle’s still fucked.”

“I…”

Okay, that was a fair point.

“Fine. That’s another bad example. Look. My point is that they were talking about weird shit, okay? Things that made no sense like domains and something about an inquiry and I’m pretty sure I saw something that they didn’t want me to see but I’m not entirely sure. You just have to believe me when I say that what they were talking about… it didn’t sound as nice and cheery when I was listening to it in person.”

That gave Tommy pause. “You saw something?”

I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t. Bloody walls and red eyes? Monsters? Well, I suppose he had already seen a few monsters the night before, but he would still think I was going crazy. None of it had actually been real, after all.

“Forget it. Come on.” With the arm that wasn’t currently wrapped around the crutch, I pulled him after me.

I had only gone through the entryway once, but it was yesterday. The memory was still fresh enough that I should be able to find our way back.

“What did you see, Wilbur,” Tommy insisted.

“I’ll tell you when we’re out of here and on our way back home.”

“Oh, come on Wil,” He groaned. “I don’t want to leave yet. If you won’t tell me what’s up and keep pulling me along like this I’ll scream. I’ll scream bloody-fuckin’ murder about being kidnapped.” I rolled my eyes but didn’t slow my pace. “Really? Really, Toms? We are literally in a random castle in the middle of nowhere with a couple of complete strangers, and you’re going to accuse me of kidnapping?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do when you’re being unreasonable??”

“I’m trying to be reasonable,” I hissed. “And I am trying to explain. Sure, it doesn’t make the most sense, but I know what I heard.”

“And I don’t.”

He dragged his feet, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t scream either. All that bluster was just for show. As much as he didn’t want to leave, he wasn’t fighting me on it either. It was a major relief.

He made a couple more half-hearted attempts to dissuade me. Complained about breakfast and what a long walk it would be. It filled what would have been an awkward, stilted experience as I limped my way down the flight of stairs leading to the entryway. I had found my way back easily enough.

Tommy brightened at the sight of a familiar bucket hat visible through the gaps in the bannister.

“Hey Phil!”

Phil stopped mid-step to smile up at the two of us. “Tommy! Wilbur! I was just about to come check in on the two of you. Breakfast is ready.”

“Fuck yeah.” Tommy leaped the last two steps and I stumbled after him. I still had a hold on his arm, after all.

I did my best to gracefully right myself and spare my dignity. Tommy slipped out of my grip completely but didn’t go far.

“Actually, we appreciate the offer, but me and Tommy really have to get going now.”

Phil’s smile faltered. “You sure? You know you two are free to stay a little longer.” He tilted his head and took a few steps forward. I grabbed the back of Tommy’s shirt and pulled him two steps back. Phil was no fool, though. He froze as soon as I tried taking an uneven step back. The smile reappeared, his face bright and welcoming. “I was even thinking I might take a look at your leg again today. If that’s alright with you, Wil. Change the bandages. Clean it right up again. See how it’s coming along.”

“That’s alright, Phil. I’m doing just fine.”

Tommy snorted. “You can hardly walk.”

“I’m fine,” I gritted out forcefully.

Phil’s eyes narrowed. He looked up at me like a mother would at a child acting particularly stubborn, crossing his arms over his chest as he did. The motion sent the folds of his cloak rippling down his back. I tried not to focus on the edges that looked like feathers. They weren’t real. They weren’t. What was real was the skeptical look on Phil’s face. He looked as unconvinced as Tommy. “Uh-huh. Sure. How far is it to where you're from again?”

“Not far-”

“Kilometers away,” Tommy huffed. “We had to have run a marathon to get here.”

“It was not nearly that far, Tommy.”

“Yes it was!”

Phil silenced us both by raising a hand. “And are you sure you’re feeling well enough to walk that far?” he asked, blue eyes trained on me.

I looked away as soon as he tried to make eye contact. The thought of holding that gaze after what I had heard… I couldn’t do it. Phil seemed like a man who could see right through you if you let him. I was already having a hard enough time trying to leave without raising further suspicion. Tommy wasn’t helping at all. If Phil looked me in the eye, he would know for sure that I was on to him. At the very worst, he only suspected it for now.

“Of course.” I had to inject a bit of cheer into my voice. “I might be on the slower side right now, but that’s all the more reason to get an early start. Especially if what you said about those monsters is true.”

Both of his blond eyebrows shot up. “Really now? Is that what’s got you so concerned? I’d rather not worry about you going out there and hurting yourself more. If you go out like that, your ankle will only get worse. I’m sure I can talk Techno into letting you guys stay another night. The extra rest should help.”

My gut twisted at the thought. There it was. The offer to stay another night. Just as I had overheard Phil mentioning. Oh, it was slick. It was simple and almost unnoticeable, if I hadn’t already been keeping an ear out for the offer. With that smile and all his cheer, Phil was convincing. He had Tommy perking right up at that. The teen was nodding along like it was a great idea. And he had presented it in such a reasonable, caring manner. But still, Phil wanted us to stay another night like they discussed. I didn’t want to wait around and find out what their veiled threats concerning me and Tommy would turn into. It was all I needed to solidify my decision in my mind.

“Thank you, but also no thank you.” I didn’t wait for any further argument.

The older man made no move to stop me as I worked my way over to the door. Tommy, though, let out a whine from the back of his throat and followed.

Tommy stepped around my side, trying to get in front of me. “Wil, come on… You’re being ridiculous.” If he had meant to stop me, he did a poor job of it. My hand slipped past him and wrapped around the door handle.

I heaved, leveraging the sole of one shoe against the floor to swing the door open. It was time to leave.

But we couldn’t.

Even with the door open, something was blocking the way.

Every centimeter of the doorway, top to bottom, left to right, was completely overtaken by bright red vines. Vines with pulsing stems and fleshy leaves. Vines that wove into and out of and in between each other so that it was impossible to make out anything through the mess. Vines that couldn’t possibly have grown that fast overnight, because this was the same door we entered last night.

The smile dropped off Phil’s face.

“Shit.”

He moved fast for an older man. In the blink of an eye, he was at the door. One arm flung out in front of me and Tommy, separating us from the vines that were breaking loose without the door supporting them. They fell limp onto the first few tiles of the entryway. With the other arm, he reached for the door. There wasn’t much of a gap between the floor and the door. Wood scraped against the fallen vines as it swung closed, leaving red smears in its wake. When the latch clicked I stepped away from his arm with Tommy in swing and Phil pressed his back against the door.

“Techno! We’ve got trouble.”

“Heh?” Techno sounded distant. His voice was muffled behind the walls of whatever nearby room he was in. The pound of footsteps on tile echoed through the entryway as he approached.

“What the fuck was that?” Tommy asked, sounding more curious than concerned. “That wasn’t there yesterday.”

Phil flipped the deadbolt. “You remember those things that grabbed Wilbur yesterday?”

There was a crash. Glass broke. Footsteps stopped. I could hear Technoblade shout and something else screamed. Another crash sounded out, this time accompanied by the splintering of wood.

A second or two passed of pure silence. Me and Tommy huddled closer to each other, not sure what to make of it all. Then Technoblade’s face appeared at the top of the stairs. There were flecks of blood on his cheek and staining his blue clothes. It didn’t appear to be coming from any wound on him, but it suited him all the same.

“I think we ticked off our neighbors again,” he deadpanned.

One corner of Phil’s lips turned up into a lopsided smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “We alway had a bad habit of doing that.”

“We should have learned our lesson last time. Now history’s repeating itself.”

I looked out the nearest window. More of those vines were visible. They pressed up against the glass at the bottom of the sill. The sun was higher now than it had been this morning, but I could still make out streaks of red over the open ground. There wasn’t another building to be seen. “You have neighbors?”

“Yeah. You met them last night.”

At that moment, something else appeared in the window. A familiar dark shape with empty white eyes. Crack! A dark fist connected with the glass, sending a spiderweb of lines snaking along the window pane.

I screamed, pedaling backward. Tommy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. We wheeled out of the way just before another hit sent shards of glass flying into the room.

It poked its horned head in through the shattered window. Sharp fragments that still clung to the frame scratched against its dark skin, but it paid that no mind. Only pushed further and further inside. It’s mouth was a white maw, snarling as it reached one claw tipped hand out in my direction.

Phil jumped in surprise. “F-fuckin’ hell! They’re REALLY pissed.”

Techno snatched a trident off a mound on the wall and leaped into action. ‘Leaped’ in the literal sense, as he skipped the staircase entirely to vault over the banister. He landed heavily on his feet. “I’ll handle it. Get them out of here.”

An arm wrapped around my wrist. Phil had peeled himself away from the door. He had a solid grip on both me and Tommy. One that didn’t allow for me to pull away or break the contact. I had half a mind to try, but where would I go? The entrance was blocked and there was a snarling monster trying to squirm through the nearest window. He yanked so hard that I nearly dropped my crutch.

Tommy let out a garbled shout as we were both pulled along behind Phil. He was fast. So fast that I was afraid my leg really would fall out from under me and the man might end up dragging me instead. It was only by some miracle I was able to keep hopping along and not knock my bum foot into something as we went careening through an open door frame set into the wall opposite the window the monster had just slipped through. The last thing I saw was Techno reeling the massive weapon over his shoulder.

We were halfway down the next hall when I heard the thump of an impact and a shill scream.

“I thought we were supposed to be safe here,” Tommy screeched, having found his voice faster than I could find mine. Phil wasn’t breathing as heavily as me or Tommy as we ran, but there was still a strain to his voice to go to the panic that was filling the space in his vast blue eyes. “Yeah. Well, I didn’t expect them to get this riled up. They’re throwing a tantrum like a fuckin’ child.”

A brown-furred hand broke through the window as we passed. Pieces of red vines and leaves fell off it onto the floor. It came close enough that I could feel claws brush my hair as we passed. “What the fuck!!?”

Ah. There was my voice. Turns out I wasn’t too stunned to use it after all.

“Shit!” Phil overcorrected, nearly knocking his shoulder into a corner wall as he tried to lead me and Tommy into an inner hall. One that didn’t appear to have any windows. They couldn’t break through and reach for the three of us there, but the smash of glass kept up behind us. Crash. Crash. Crash! Window pane after window pane must have been breaking just outside of our line of sight; all the way around the house. It echoed off the tile behind us and ahead of us.

Phil skidded to a stop. I nearly flew past him before his hold on my wrist jostled me back. He swore as each crash sounded off.

“Shit.” Crash. “Shit.” Crash. “SHIT.” Crash.

If they couldn’t reach for us directly, they were getting through where they could.

“Stairs,” I shouted. My mind chugged to keep up with my words as the half-baked thought took shape. “Up the stairs where they can’t reach the windows and block the way.”

“Good idea.”

Me and Tommy let Phil guide us to the nearest staircase. The sound of snarls and growls was steadily growing. The crashing subsided, but I suspected that meant there were no more windows for the creatures to break. We climbed three whole flights before coming to a panting stop at the top.

There were two weapons resting against the wall of the landing: a thin sword, and an ax. The landing itself led to a narrow doorway; one without a door, but small enough that it could still act as a choke point.

“We have to block it up.”

“Right.” Phil finally dropped our wrists. His eyes widened as he did so, looking at his palm and then our hands as if surprised he had been holding on this whole time. There wasn’t a bruise, but I could still feel the phantom touch of his grip where one would probably form later.

He shook off the surprise almost as quickly as it hit him. He reached for the sword. “Tommy. You remember what Techno showed you yesterday?”

Tommy rubbed at the inside of his wrist. “Yeah. Why?”

“Here.” He tossed Tommy the ax. “Hopefully you won’t have to use it.”

The teen nearly fumbled the catch, and if I wasn’t already terrified for my life I probably would have snapped about how unsafe it was to throw bladed weapons around a child.

“We’ll have to find something for you to use later, Wil.”

“He doesn’t know how to use any weapon,” Tommy corrected. “I’ll protect him.”

“Maybe. But if something-”

“I’d be useless,” I croaked. “I can barely stand, and I’d be more likely to hurt myself than anything else.”

The pen was mightier than the sword. Just this once, though, words might not mean much. I doubted the things trying to get us could understand English. And if they could, they wouldn’t listen.

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” I tried hobbling towards the nearest display case full of weapons and pressed against its side. “Just help me move this in front of the stairs.”

Phil understood what I was saying a little faster than Tommy. I helped as much as I could with only one leg, which wasn’t much. I had to give up the heavy lifting to grab whatever lighter objects I could within close proximity. Phil and Tommy piled the cabinet and benches and glass cases up while I threw tapestries and paintings and cushions over the gaps on top. We didn’t stop until the throughway was completely covered over. By then, we could already hear something knocking against the opposite side. Something that howled.

“How long do you think that is gonna hold?” Tommy asked.

Phil shrugged. “No clue. Let’s put some distance between us. I’d rather not stick along to find out.” He turned to me. “Do you need help running?”

I opened my mouth to say I was fine, but Tommy cut me off. “Of course he does.” “Tommy! I-” “I’m not listening to your pride right now, Wil. Shut the fuck up and take the help.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

Phil looked between the two of us, eyes as wide as an owl’s. He made no move to step between us as me and Tommy stared each other down.

It wasn’t fair. Tommy still didn’t believe me when I said we couldn’t trust Phil and Techno. He was chalking it up to pride. I didn’t want to fight him over it right now. There were more pressing concerns.

“Fine.”

Phil swooped in to wrap his arm around my back and prop his shoulder beneath my armpit. I stood a head taller than him, but he was more stable than the crutch that now hung uselessly at my side. “I got ya. Let’s go.”

He started forward at a pace that was much easier for me to keep up with. Tommy followed, ax gripped tight in his hand. “It’s your castle, Phil? Where can we go?”

“The towers. There’s one nearby. It overlooks the river. The water’s pretty deep there. If they somehow make it past Techno and that barricade, we can make a jump for it.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me. How high is it?”

“Very.”

“We’re going to die,” I groaned.

“No you’re not,” Phil said firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

He sounded so sincere.

We had to have crossed the length of the entire castle to get to the base of the tower. It was hard to keep my attention on moving forward rather than on the sound of chaos unfurling the floor below us. I tried not to think about the furniture smashing and angry howls, even as it assaulted my ears. I tried not to notice how it was getting louder.

Phil pointed ahead. “Over there. That’s the door.”

Thunk!

I tumbled back away from the large spikes that splintered up through the wood floor between me and Tommy. I fell ass-backward, hard enough that it would leave a bruise. Nearly dragged Phil down with me in the process. The spikes came so close that one of the barbs ripped a slit into the toe of my shoe. Tommy had been further away, but he still nearly jumped out of his skin as he flailed backward, screaming at the top of his lungs.

My ankle up until that point hadn’t been giving me much trouble. I could have just been lucky not to bump it until this point. That, or the adrenaline and fear pumping through my veins had overridden any screaming pain my nerve endings might have been dealing with. I grunted against the pain that now came in a bright flash and curled inward, reaching for my leg.

Phil was at my side, crouching next to me. “Are you okay?”

“Hurts.”

It was all I managed to get out before the floor beneath us buckled. It heaved up like a growing hill before the wooden boards gave out with a groan. They split, starting at the point where the spikes stuck through and splintering off until a familiar pink head with a gold circlet shoved its way through.

Phil lurched under me. He reached toward Technoblade, but Tommy got there first. The teen dropped the ax and helped drag the man through the floor. Techno looked as fresh as a daisy, despite the splinters in his air and extra blood stains dotting his blue outfit. His glasses were still perched nice and straight on his nose. His cloak was gone, though.

He pulled his trident after him and kicked a boot at something with a head wrapped in a red length of cloth that tried to crawl up after him. It whimpered, fingernails grasping at the splintered floor before it slipped and fell back down to the level below.

“That was sick,” Tommy said with a smile.

Technoblade shook a few pieces of wood out of his braid. “I know.”

My foot was still stinging enough to make my eyes water as Phil heaved me back up. “Was that the last of ‘em?”

Techno shrugged. “Eh… Technically.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Was it the last of those eggheads? Yes. Are we in the clear?”

He tilted forward just enough to peer over the edge of the hole he had made in the floor. I followed his line of sight. Through blurry eyes, I could still make out the rippling surface of hundreds and hundreds of red vines covering the walls and floor. The tendrils moved much faster than any plant ever could. As I watched, they covered the still form of the thing Techno kicked. They surged up towards the hole as soon as I peered over the edge. I pulled back, and I could hear the slippery swish of them settling back down.

“Not by a long shot.”

Phil’s shoulders tensed beneath me. He looked at me from the corner of his eye, then looked down at my ankle.

“You can’t fight that, Techno.”

“I can try.”

“No. I’ve got contingencies. We’ll be okay.”

That word again. Contingency. I felt myself stiffen and Technoblade’s eyes snapped to Phil’s face. Whatever nonchalance he had been sporting was gone. “You sure?”

“We’ll try to make it to the top of the tower and jump for the river,” Phil explained and some of the intensity left Techno’s gaze. “We’ll figure it out from there.”

“Holy shit,” Tommy exclaimed, completely oblivious to whatever underlying meaning had passed between Phil and Technoblade. “We’re actually doing that? I thought-AAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Something red had reached out from the broken floorboards and brushed against Tommy’s foot. He stamped his feet and grabbed his ax to swing at the vines crawling towards me and Phil.

“Tommy!”

I tried to reach forward, but Phil pulled me back. “Whoops! Time’s up,” he shouted as he half dragged me away. Before I could struggle, Technoblade scooped up Tommy like a sack of potatoes and leaped over the gap in the floor.

“Let me go!” Tommy screamed, even as the man set him back on his feet.

“There. Happy?”

“No!”

“Then do something about it and move.”

I could see the effort it took for Tommy not to bite back a retort in the way a grimace pulled at his face. There just wasn’t enough time. More vines were already making their way through the hole. Their twisted leaves shook as they reached closer and closer.

We ran. All four of us ran until we hit an open door to a stairwell no wider than a closet. Me and Phil rushed in first followed immediately by Tommy. Technoblade brought up the rear, slamming the door closed behind him.

Phil helped me climb the steps two at a time. “The window’s at the top,” he shouted or all of us to hear

“Will it be big enough for us to fit through?” I demanded.

“Plenty. I’ve made it through with no issue.”

My voice went up an octave. “You’ve jumped out the window before?!?”

“That’s so cool!” Tommy jumped in.

Techno’s voice sounded from somewhere below us. “Uh, guys…”

Crack!

I didn’t have to look back to know that was the sound of the door at the base of the stairs being forced open.

An edge of panic had worked its way into Techno’s voice as he spoke up again. “Phil, they’re picking up speed.”

“Shit,” Phil spat. His pace faltered and, since he was helping to keep me steady, mine did as well. “How fast?”

“Probably not going to make it at this rate.”

Phil came to a complete halt. “Fuck it. Time for plan B.”

I did not like the sound of that.

“Wait, Phil.” My voice was shaking. “What do you mean-”

I cut myself off as I looked over to him. His hair was whipping beneath the brim of his hat, but there was no breeze in the stairwell. Those vast blue eyes sharpened to steel, then darkened into something even deeper. The sound of distant thunder rolled, and when I blinked, his entire cloak appeared to be made of pitch-black feathers.

My mind immediately began to dismiss what I was seeing. It wasn’t real. Nothing like this had been real before. It wasn’t real now. It couldn’t be. But the sudden heave of the stairs beneath our feet was VERY real. So real, in fact, Tommy had to slap a hand against the wall to keep from pitching backward.

“What was that?” he gasped.

“Oh no.” Techno threw an arm around Tommy. “Brace yourself!”

The ground heaved again.

Snap!

Cracks broke out between the edges of the stairs. They crawled up the walls alongside the vines that were reaching for us. My stomach did a flip as the ground split off around me and Phil. Gaps appeared a few steps above us and a few steps below. The foundation shuttered, and the chunk of stone and wood we were standing on separated from the rest of the tower.

Separated OUTWARD.

The floor and piece of the wall we were standing on swiveled out into the open air as if it were on hinges. It drifted out further as if it were suspended.

“Fuck,” I hissed, pressing myself tighter against Phil because there was nowhere else to go. He didn’t respond. That stormy look in his eyes intensified. Something flickered past the pupils in a way that reminded me of lighting.

More pieces of the tower pulled away. They drifted out, lighter than air, broken and cracked, coming undone like pieces of a puzzle.

I would have thought it was another in the series of unexplainable things I had been seeing, one that could even top the bloody hallway. If that were the case, though, Tommy wouldn’t be screaming. He had latched onto Technoblade’s side. The man had a scowl on his face as he watched more and more pieces of his castle drift up into the sky. He didn’t look particularly shocked. Just grim.

The tower disassembled itself completely. Many pieces remained suspended in the air, finding some spot out away from their old foundation and settling into a bobbing halt. What was left was a large gap in the crumbling wall. Vines visibly writhed in that gap. Smaller tendrils grew around the edges to feel out where the tower ceased to be.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. Everywhere I looked was red. Everywhere but the blue sky above.

The snowy ground was covered in red leaves. Red lines were crawling up the outside of the castle’s walls. The gaps in the roof of the castle displayed red vines inside. When I looked straight down, something red stirred beneath the surface of the river.

“It’s in the river,” I shouted numbly over the heavy breeze that had picked up around us.

“Then that’s not an option either,” Phil growled.

“I’m imagining this. This has to be another waking nightmare. It has to be. It can’t be real.”

Phil’s stormy eyes flicked to me. “Waking nightmare?”

“Tell me I’m seeing shit, Phil. Tell me we aren’t floating several hundred meters in the air. Tell me a bunch of red plants aren’t everywhere I look. Tell me the bloody walls and all the weird shit I’ve been seeing since last night were all in my head. I’d rather be crazy.”

He sucked in a breath between his teeth. I could feel his shoulders slump beneath my arm. “I’m sorry…”

“Technoblade!”

Tommy.

I looked down to see Technoblade and Tommy standing on their own hunk of foundation below us. Techno was shoving Tommy back behind him as he swung out with his trident. Vines were pulling at the corner of their cluster of steps. The mass had grown over itself in a thick clump, building up like a bridge until a few tendrils were able to reach their platform and start tipping it. Techno’s trident cut through them easily enough, but more grew back in their place in the blink of an eye.

“Hold on!” Techno snatched up Tommy and leaped through the air to land on another floating piece of debris. It bobbed in place but didn’t fall. The piece they left behind was quickly covered up by the mass of vines and disappeared.

Techno tilted his head back and called up. “It’s trying to climb. We need to go higher.”

“I’ll try,” Phil said with a huff. The piece of flooring beneath our feet shifted. It was more subtle than the initial break. Slower, but my heart fluttered at the sight of the ground getting further and further away. I didn’t bother to make heads or tails as to how Phil had done that, but he must have.

“Can you get up?” he shouted back down to Techno.

“I can’t fuckin’ jump that far,” Tommy shouted as Techno’s gaze fell on a couple of stairs floating a few meters higher.

“I can,” the man said evenly, answering for both of them at the same time. He launched himself once more, and with inhuman strength, his toes hit the floorboards of his target. He put Tommy down and placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “You stay here. Use that ax if it gets close.”

“B-but-”

“Tommy, I saw what you were capable of yesterday, and you have reinforced that today. In the face of a challenge, you step up. Don’t let that step falter now.”

Tommy’s head tilts back as if stunned. “O… Okay. Go fuck shit up.”

Techno gave him a closed-mouth smile and let go of his shoulder. He took a step back. That smile grew wider as his foot hit open air, and he dropped down to a piece of debris below. I looked away before the sound of ripping vines could start.

“Should we climb to?” I asked, turning to Phil.

He looked like he was struggling. His eyes were focused on something in the distance that I couldn’t see. Sweat was starting to bead on his forehead. We were still rising. “No,” he managed to say. “There’s not much above for us to climb to.”

Sure enough, I hadn’t thought through my question before asking it. Blame the panic. There were a few rocks and broken pieces of wall above our heads, but they were few and far between. Nothing substantial enough to hold one of us, let alone both of us. Certainly nothing close enough I could risk jumping. Maybe Phil could, but he had two working legs.

“I can get us further,” he added and shifted his position against the wall. “I just have to…”

The foundation beneath our feet began to tilt. It was still going up, but slower now. Instead, it’s path had changed to start sweeping in a horizontal arc through the air. It moved in the beginnings of a circle around the castle. Other bits of debris and floating staircase fragments followed like flotsam caught in a whirlpool. The red mass wriggled at its epicenter. Already it had ahold of a couple pieces of the wrecked tower. Those were held firmly in place, but the ones that the vines were on the verge of wrapping around pulled out of their reach. The tendrils grew sideways to continue their climb, but the lean made the columns of ingrown vines off-balanced. A few toppled over, back to the roof of the castle. Those that did had to start the process of growing upwards all over again. Almost always it started growing in the direction of whatever was directly below me and Phil.

Tommy and Techno were caught in the swirl as well. I could hear Tommy freaking out about his platform moving under him. But while Tommy stuck to his own piece, Techno was on the move. He hurtled from piece to floating piece, a blur of pink and blue. Whenever he landed on a set of floating stairs the vines had just started to manage a hold on, he stopped to rake the tines of his trident over their stems. WIth the connection snapped, the vines would fall, the platform would continue it’s swirling path out of reach, and it would by more time to keep them from reaching any higher.

I blinked in awe at the sight. “That’s amazing.”

“Much appreciated,” Phil said, though he sounded tired.

We moved round and round like a clockwork. All the while, the world beneath us became more and more red. I watched it all unfold beneath me. What more could I do? I was so far in over my head, I was still half convinced that this was a dream. Dream’s don’t hurt the way my leg had started throbbing again. Phil was already getting tired, and Technoblade was like a machine cutting those vines back over and over and over again. It couldn’t last forever. Something had to give eventually.

That something was a particularly fast-moving set of vines reaching out for Tommy’s platform.

I leaned over the edge to get a better look.

“Tommy! Behind you!”

“Gotcha!” He lashed out with the ax. Ribbons of vines fell away like confetti. He swung again, and the vines came away completely. They didn’t fall far, though, and it didn’t take them as long to catch up.

I reached over to jostle Phil’s shoulder. “Hey, I think Tommy might be in trouble. Can these things go any faster?”

“I… I…” The motion of the stairs beneath our feet stuttered. “I’ll try…” He sounded like he was in pain.

Tommy’s platform lurched. He stumbled as it sped up a few meters and then almost immediately slowed down again. It gave the vines a big enough opportunity to latch on once more. This time, Tommy was too busy picking himself back up to cut them away.

“Phil, it’s not working. They’re at his piece of the tower.”

The man was panting with sheer, unseen effort. He rolled his shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut.

Tommy’s platform lurched again, throwing off his balance once more. It pulled as if to continue on its winding path but one of the roots dug itself into a crack in the floorboards and stayed lodged. It was thick enough not to snap under tension.

My heart sank.

“Tommy! Tommy, cut the vines! Hurry!” My words might as well have fallen on deaf ears. They were pointless. Tommy was already scrambling back to his feet and swinging his ax like a madman. Leaves and tendrils fell away from the sides, but he could only reach so far. Could only swing so fast. The vines were like the hydra’s head. Cut away one, and two new ones sprung forth. He was keeping them from passing over the edge, but he could do nothing to stop the ones burrowing into the base of his platform.

Crack!

The whole thing shifted beneath the teen’s feet. Tommy’s arms pinwheeled to right his balance, but the set of stairs broke apart and sent him down to his knees. The ax slipped off the side of the platform before he could grab it.

“No!” With a pained grunt, Phil doubled over. His weight pressed heavily into my side. It was an odd switch from him having to support me to me nearly keeping him upright. It was too much. He was too much for me to keep up. I shifted to let him slump against the fragment of wall still stuck to our floating chunk of steps.

The floor Tommy was standing on strained against the hold of the vines. Some snapped, but it couldn’t break free.

“Technoblade, HELP HIM,” I begged.

Techno looked up from where he was slashing at a larger column of vines and stiffened.

“Wilbur,” Tommy cried. He looked up at me with a tear streaming down his cheek. The teen reached out to me, though there was no way for him to cross the impossibly vast expanse between us.

Crack!

What was left of the ground beneath Tommy’s feet crumbled. My heart stopped. His eyes, still desperately focused on mine, widened. The panic barely had a chance to register on his face before gravity caught up to him.

I reached out. It made no difference across the space that divided us.

“TOMMY!!”

He fell.

He fell, and he screamed, and his other arm reached up alongside the first as if that could help him reach me. It didn’t.

He twisted in the air. The wind whipped his hair around his face and pulled at his clothes until we could no longer see eye to eye. All the while, he grew further and further away. Closer and closer to the mass of vines roiling below.

Thud.

Tommy disappeared between the reaching tendrils a hundred-some meters below.

A haze crossed over my eyes. Static filled my head. Made me numb. My legs threatened to give out from under me. I pitched forward. Whether I fell or jumped, it was all the same to me. As long as I went after him.

Something tightened around my wrist.

I was aware enough to recognize the pressure and look down at my arm. Phil was there. He was holding me in a white-knuckle grip. His feet were firmly planted against what remained of our hunk of a floor. He was panting hard. The grimace splitting his face looked out of place.

“Hang on, kid!” Movement below caught my attention. Technoblade was there. He launched himself off the ledge of his platform, ripping off his glasses with one hand as he went. Without the frames, I could make out a flash of red in his eyes. Red like at dinner, where it looked like two figures were sitting in the same seat. Red like the tusked monster I saw looming at the doorway in the hall. Red like blood.

Seeing him like that, diving down after Tommy, willingly throwing himself at the reaching, slithering, scaling mass below, it kick-started my heart to beat again. To get past that initial, all-consuming numbness that overtook me with the shock of seeing Tommy disappear.

The sound of a heartbeat echoed over the slither of vines sliding past each other. It thudded once, twice, three times, a drum beat signaling what was to come, and then Techno also vanished into the turmoil below.

Thump.

I needed to go after Tommy too.

Phil’s grip tightened on my wrist as I gave it a harsh yank. I turned on him and snarled. “Let me go, Phil.”

“Listen to me, Wil. You can’t go down there-”

“Tommy needs my help!”

“They’re not after Tommy,” he cried. “I know this has gotta be some pretty strange shit, but surely you’ve figured out by now that it’s you that thing is trying to get to?!?”

“I can’t just sit here and let those THINGS have him!”

“Techno’s got him. He won’t let that happen. He literally can’t be beaten.”

I pulled my hand a little harder. His palms were clammy. Their grip on my hand slipped a little, but not enough for me to break free. “What could Techno possibly do against something like that!?” My mind reached back to the conversation I overheard. “Do you mean whatever domain shit of yours you two have up your sleeve?”

He looked down at the vines that had stretched across everything, then back up at me. He seemed at a loss for words. “How did you know…” The shock fell away. His eyes lightened and the barest hint of a smile graced his lips. “Wilbur that’s it! That’s the only option!”

“What? I don’t even know what that means.”

“Then it’s a good thing I do.” He reached for the sword he had kept in his belt. The one he grabbed from the top of the landing. It glittered coldly in the morning sun. It moved so fast that the steel was nothing more than a flash of light. With a flourish, he brought the tip of the blade out to the side and swept it up from his bottom left to his top right, the pommel stopping directly over the head.

The sky unfolded.

It was the only way I could describe what I saw when I leaned back to stare at the space above us. It simply creased down the center and pulled apart, the edges sinking out towards the void of space. In its wake was something darker and more empty than the void itself. Something that practically sucked all the air out from under the dome of the sky. It tugged on my stomach like a string, pulling up through the top of my head.

“What the bloody HELL!?!?”

Words couldn’t describe how detached I felt from anything that made sense at that moment, but in itself that summed things up well enough. There had been a lot of things that made no sense over the course of these two days.

With another flick of his wrist, Phil had the sword tucked away at his waist once more.

“Listen to me, Wil,” he said, reaching for my shoulders and giving them a shake. “All of this can end in an instant. I just need you to answer two questions for me? Okay?” He was insane.

Then again, I was convinced I was as well.

“Two questions?”

He nodded. “Two questions. Answer them honestly, and I promise everything will work out. Tommy and Techno we’ll be fine. The nightmare will end.”

“...I can do that.”

“Good.”

Phil kept his hands on my shoulders as he straightened. His shoulders tensed, making the imaginary feathers that were still there flare out. His entire demeanor changed, eyes going from stormy grey to sharp steel. The expression on his face was unreadable, and when he spoke it sent a shiver down my spine.

“If you could choose to fall into the sky, would you?”

It was strikingly similar to when Technoblade asked Tommy about listening to his gut, or me about listening to the history of our surroundings.

“What kind of question is that?” I shrieked.

“Don’t think too hard about it, Wilbur. If there was any scenario, any justification you could possibly think of where you might say yes, then say it.”

“Now isn’t the time for philosophically nonsensical questions, Phil!”

“Just answer the damn question!”

“If saying yes could make this madness end, then yeah, sure. Whatever it would take to wake up from this nightmare.”

“Is that a yes!?!” “YES!”

As soon as the word tore its way out of my mouth, it felt like the world flipped on its head. It was like an explosion went off with me and Phil at the epicenter. Crumbling castle walls and stone brick cracked and broke, flinging themselves further out out all around us. The debris hung suspended in the air, still, but was now twisting and twirling like leaves caught in the wind. The ground below visibly grew further and further away at a significantly faster pace than before. The pieces of the tower’s floor were climbing higher and higher compared to the hilly landscape below, but rather than my stomach dropping out from under me like it would when riding an elevator to the top floor, it felt like someone had set a hook at the bottom of my heart alongside my stomach and was pulling me up.

When I looked at Phil, none of the strain from before pulled at the corners of his eyes or tightened the way he held his shoulders.

I tried to pull back from Phil’s embrace in my utter amazement. His grip on my arms hardened. His fingers were cold. Far too cold. The chill was painful, even through the fabric of my shirt sleeve. Steel eyes lightened to sky-blue. They looked too wide for his face. Too vast and unending for his age, or maybe that was just it? Maybe that endless vastness behind those eyes was the real Phil? It didn’t match the man who stood before me. Not in appearance. But in personality? Perhaps. Something deeper and greater and all-encompassing that I had only gotten to glimpse a fraction of.

I didn’t have long to contemplate that before sky-blue gave way to glowing gold, so bright it was like looking into the sun.

A shadow leaked out from the tear in the sky. It spread like ink bleeding through paper until it encompassed everything. In that dark, I could barely make out the outline of Phil’s cloak as a breeze picked up. It whooshed up from beneath us, causing the fabric and feathers to billow out at his sides like a massive set of wings. I could feel the press of my feet on the stairs beneath me growing lighter and lighter. I threw myself to the piece of wall lining the side of our stairs and dug my fingernails into the uneven brick. It gave me something to hold onto because I felt dangerously close to floating away.

The cloak flared once more, wrapping around Phil. The pressure of his hands on my shoulder vanished. I blinked, and he was gone.

Phil was gone, but the vines were still there. Still climbing up from their new vantage point on Tommy’s platform. Reaching towards me. A few more meters, and they might have me. Their leaves wavered on the breeze. The whistle of it carried a voice.

“If the sky could reach out and catch you, would you trust it to?”

A lump formed in my throat. One so large, I couldn’t hope to swallow around it.

I had absolutely no reason to trust the two strangers I met last night. Neither had Tommy. Yet we willingly went with them into a decrepit castle.

What was it that Technoblade said about trusting your gut?

“Yes. I do,” I whispered, and let go.

And the world went radio-silent as I fell up into the broken sky.

____________________________________________________

The first thing I became aware of was a bright, blue light.

So bright, it shone through my eyelids.

Next came the horrible sense of falling. I wasn’t moving, though. There was no rush of air or anything like that. In fact, when I groaned and twitched my fingers I was pleasantly surprised to find something solid and rough pressing against them. But still, there was that awful lurch to my stomach that made me feel like I was in the middle of a free fall.

I dared to flutter my eyes open. For as bright as the blue was through my eyelids, it got no brighter once I fully opened my eyes. The sky in all its vast, overwhelming glory filled my vision. Blue and deep, broken by the occasional wisp of clouds, and encompassing everything. I groaned again, this time letting my head fall to the side. There was more around me than just sky. It was a familiar sight, actually. I was lying on the concrete slab of a train platform.

I let my head flop over to the other side.

It wasn’t just a platform. It was an entire train station. One with an open ceiling and walls encircling booths and benches and waiting areas. There were no trains here. Just tracks and the empty tunnels bored into the wall. The tracks running down them faded away into the dark.

“Tommy…?” My voice sounded odd to my ears. It reverberated and echoed as if I were in a cave, not a train station. “Phil?” I called a little louder. Still, my voice echoed back at me. “Techno…?”

I pushed myself up to a seat. My whole body swayed as a wave of vertigo washed over me. I didn’t feel grounded. My sense of direction was so thrown off, that the room may have actually been swaying for all I knew.

I tried again. “Tommy! Phil! Techno! Is anyone there?”

“I am, mate.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of the familiar voice echoing alongside my own. The vertigo was still in full swing, though, so while I tried surging to my feet I really only ended up stumbling into a bench.

Wait… I used both legs to do that…

I looked down and pulled up the leg of my trousers to see that my bum ankle looked normal again. The rash, the bruise, the scratches, they were all gone. “How…”

“It’s all healed,” Phil’s voice sounded out again. “You won’t have to worry about that ever again.”

The train station was empty. No matter where I looked there wasn’t another soul on the platforms or the tracks. I couldn’t see Phil. “Where are you?”

“Look up.”

I tilted my head back. Two pale edges swept out from either side of the station’s open roof. They met in the middle before fluttering back open. When they did, a dark orb, almost like a black hole with light warping around its edges, took up the center of the blue space.

What I thought was the sky over the open ceiling of the station had just blinked.

It was an eye. A huge eye as vast as the sky. Bright, unending, and undeniably’ Phil’s.

My grip on the bench tightened.

The eye blinked again, and then it was gone. Replaced with an empty black void. A pair of legs appeared over the roof’s ledge, and then a torso and head swung into view. There was Phil, peering down at me beneath the brim of his bucket hat. He looked different, but also the same. Gone were the pale blue winter clothes and cloak. Instead, he wore a loose-fitting green robe with a close-fit black undershirt. The black cloak hung in folds against his back. There were cuffs around his wrists with hearts emblazoned on them and his blond hair was wild and pale beneath the hat. It looked sort of like a cloud.

“This form is probably less scary for ya, I’m sure.” He kicked his legs lazily out over the drop. “What are you?”

Phil’s shoulders pulled up around his ears. “I’m Phil.” He looked away, embarrassed. The moment his eyes left me, that horrible vertigo vanished and I was able to stand up straight.

“I didn’t ask who you were,” I said, my words harsh.

He turned his eyes back onto me and I nearly toppled over. The bench helped ground me as my head spun.

“Do you want the short answer or the long answer?”

I wasn’t sure I had the patience for the long answer as long as I felt like this. “Short answer.”

“I’m the sky.”

That made no sense.

“Fine, long answer,” I spat.

“Wil-”

“Don’t Wil me! Nothing, and I repeat, nothing has made sense ever since those things chased me and Tommy through the woods. Least of all this.” I waved my hands at the train station around me and nearly toppled over in the process. “What the fuck is this?! I just fell into the fucking sky?! So tell me, what the FUCK was all that? And THIS?! AND YOU!?”

“Whoa! Whoa! Easy there.” Though we were several meters apart, he threw his hands up, palms outward as if to shield himself. “Deep breaths. Try to take things slow. You’ve just been through a lot.”

“You’re damn right about that! I’d appreciate some sort of answer!”

“Okay!”

He kicked off the ledge overhanging the ceiling and dropped. What I thought had been a cloak flared up until two black, shimmering wings stretched to catch the air. They were huge! Fully spread like that, the edges came close to touching opposite walls of the station. The very tips of the longest primaries sported that same diamond pattern that had lined the edge of his cloak. The inner coverts shined with countless glimmers of bright light; like stars set in the night sky.

Did that mean I hadn’t imagined the feathers?

He rode the draft down to the concrete below. Sandaled feet hit the ground walking and his wings folded back behind him, dragging and settling like the cloak.

As he approached, my sense of vertigo lightened. The disorientation became less and less as he walked closer and closer. By the time he stopped in front of me, I felt normal.

“I’ll try. I’ll try to clear up what I can, starting with me,” he said softly and placed a hand over his heart. “The easy answer really is that I am the sky. I’m like you, but not,” the wings flexed outward before returning to rest along his back. “If the sky was a person, it would be me.”

“Am I really supposed to believe that?” I huffed, taking a step away from the bench.

“Probably not,” he said with a tired shrug. “But could you possibly come up with anything else that might make sense to you?”

That was a loaded question. Considering I was staring at a man with wings on his back, I suppose the sky incarnate wasn’t as outlandish as it really should have been.

“So what? Are you supposed to be some sort of god?”

“Pffft. As if.” He leaned back and laughed. “I’m just Phil. It just so happens that being me also comes with a few side gigs that are a little harder to wrap your head around.”

“Like what?”

“Appearance, for starters.” The wings spread out behind him. Not to their full extent. They would have filled to room if that were the case. Just enough so that I could make out constellations glittering amidst his coverts. “Don’t normally have to keep this under wraps, but didn’t really feel like having to explain myself. You’re awfully perceptive, though. Ya didn’t it easy.”

It had been real…? It had been real. The snapshot hallucinations of Phil’s feathery cloak hadn’t been hallucinations after all.

“What else?”

“My lifespan. Or lack-there-of. Remember when I told you about me and Techno’s trip to the Antarctic?”

“Y-yeah.”

“That would have been before your grandparents had even been born.”

I had to reach out to grab the bench again. It wasn’t the vertigo returning. It was because the weight of what Phil was saying was starting to come crashing down on me. This man didn’t look a day over thirty.

“Wait, does that mean Techno-”

“Mate’s like me,” Phil said puffing up his feathers. “Like me, but not.”

“So definitely not human either?”

He shook his head. “If I am the Sky, then he’s Bloodshed.”

It fit. Yet it didn’t. It seemed like there were a lot of oxymorons I simply had to accept. From what I had seen of Techno so far, he had shown an aptitude for battle. Phil clearly trusted the man to handle himself in a fight. But he was also pretty mild-mannered and reserved. Far from what I would expect from someone who carried a name like Bloodshed.

But did that also mean that there was something else to Techno as well? Something with red eyes and dripping tusks, like I saw looming above me?

Probably.

The thought didn’t scare me as much as it should have. The relief I felt at having so many of my self-doubts flipped on their head overpowered the fear, and I was starting to become numb to being surprised.

And then it hit me that Techno had gone after Tommy and the fear broke through the relief like a swinging sledgehammer.

“And a guy like that went after Tommy?!” I shouted, pulling away from the bench. I felt like I needed to pace and wasn’t up for facing Phil while my mind was racing. I made it a couple of steps before I immediately regretted it. The dizziness kicked back in, making me sway on my feet.

“Ey! Careful.” Phil quickly crossed the small space I put between us. “You’re still adjusting to the effects of the change in domain. You shouldn’t be pushing yourself.” He stepped in front of me, reaching out to right me, but at the sight of his eyes, the unsteadiness left me. I knocked his hand away.

“Is this what you and Techno were talking about?” I growled, feeling a little more false confidence churning in my gut now that my head didn’t feel like it was spinning. “He had mentioned a domain then too. Is this your contingency? Your plan? Whatever it was you were planning on doing to me and Tommy because I’m adrift?”

Phil’s wings drooped so low his primary feathers lay against the ground. The sheer devastation in his expression almost made me regret the extra venom I had laced into that last word. Almost, but not quite.

“You heard that?” he breathed.

I nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

He looked away. “Well… that explains why you were in such a rush to leave.” He pulled his hat off to card his fingers through his hair. A sigh left his lips as his fingers reached the back of his skull. That was where he let his hand come to rest. His elbow pointed up at the void above us.

“Look. The situation isn’t ideal. And that probably doesn’t sound great. You don’t even know what any of that means, do you?”

I rubbed my forehead with the base of my palm. “Of course I don’t.”

“Right. That’s… not easy to explain.” He sighed. “Ok. I don’t know how much you heard, but me and Techno… we have this thing called a domain. It’s basically whatever we have an influence over. For me, it’s the sky. What’s a good example… oh! You know how the tower broke and the pieces flew?”

I nodded.

“That happened because I could influence it. The tower was in the sky, and I exerted my influence. If we want, we can extend that influence to people. That’s where those freaks that came in with the vines come in.”

“The monsters that chased us?”

He nodded.

“Techno called them eggheads.”

“Yeah. They were people, but they’ve got no mind of their own. Those bastards and all those disgusting red vines belong to something else. Something like me and Techno, but prefers to exercise complete control over everything in its domain. Its… preferred shape isn’t human.” He shrugged and gestured down at himself, sweeping his arms back to include the wings spreading behind him. “Far less human than this. Like a big fuckin’ egg.”

“So eggheads?”

“That’s right.”

“How creative,” I said sarcastically.

“Hey!” Phil’s blue eyes brightened at the tease. He plopped his hat back onto his head. “I’m the one who came up with it. I don’t have to listen to this slander!”

I rolled my eyes. The more I thought about his words, though, the more I had to suppress a shudder. “You said they have no mind of their own?”

The light in his eyes faded to something stormy and overcast. “Yes. They may have been able to think for themselves at some point, but they lost that when they became part of its domain.”

“And… you said they were after me?”

He nodded stiffly. “I’ll be blunt. Yes. They were going to drag you into its domain as well.”

It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. I finally had at least a baseline understanding of what was at stake now. Everything that made me… well, me. I tried to picture myself in the place of that dark-skinned creature, punching through glass, throwing myself mindlessly ahead at something, with no thoughts or concept of self-preservation.

Death sounded preferable.

“One of ‘em marked you when they grabbed you,” he continued. “Their way of saying you were due to be one of ‘em. When I cut you free, you still had the mark, but you weren’t a part of their domain yet. You were adrift. Halfway there, but still a long way to go. I’m surprised they were that dead set on having you in the first place. I thought after the first time I scared ‘em off they would have let the matter drop.”

Goosebumps crawled up my arms. “But it’s gone now,” I said, pulling up my pant leg. Sure enough, it still looked fine. Still didn’t throb or ache. “So what does that mean? Is this my hell? Is this where my mind ends up now that they’ve got me?”

“Oh fuck no,” Phil’s eyes hardened and he shook his head quickly. “After all the shit we went through? Those guys, they take for their domain. Me? I ask nicely. You answered my inquiries perfectly.”

“Inquiries…?” Then it dawned on me. “Those weird ass questions…”

Phil snapped his fingers. “Bingo! You didn’t have to actually fall into the sky, but bonus points for dramatic flair.”

“Wait, so what does that mean? Is this your domain? Am I gonna turn into one of those weird assed monsters for you?”

“NO!” he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “God, no. That’s the last thing I want.” He shivered and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And this isn’t my domain. This is a… crossroads. One of your making.”

“Explain.”

He rolled his eyes. “That mark put you on a similar path as the eggheads. Whenever you answer a couple of inquiries from someone like me and Techno, it qualifies you for a different path. One through us. You answered my inquiries. This is your fork in the road. Your mind just decided to picture it this way.” He swept his wings out behind him as if to gesture to the train station around us. “So you could, I don’t know, get on a train towards your desired destination. Something like that.”

This sounded laughably familiar.

I couldn’t help the smirk that stretched across my face. “You’re not seriously giving me the Harry Potter treatment right now, are you? What, are you about to tell me that I can take a train if I feel like ‘moving on?’”

Phil threw his head back and laughed, one hand going up to cover his heart. “Not exactly. I mean, I guess the situation is a bit similar but it’s not the same.”

“How so?”

He raised an eyebrow. “For one, I’m not dead. Dumbledore was. For another, you’ve got a couple of options.”

A distant roar sounded out, like all of the air rushing out of the room. “What is that?”

Phil didn’t answer.

I turned around to see the lighted clocks and timetable screens flickered to life. Through blinking neon, they displayed all zeros across the number slots. Fluorescent lights flared brighter and buzzed.

Screeeeeeeeeeech!

Yellow light filled the tunnels leading out of the terminal. I could hear trains barreling in long before I could see them. They came from opposite directions on different tracks, and both slowed down until they came to rest directly in front of me. One red. One blue. Their doors slid open, but there was nobody inside. No ticket taker was standing ready at the entry. No people were milling about the aisle. No heads bobbed in the window seats.

“And there’s two of ‘em,” Phil said, his voice falling somewhat flat. Almost sad.

“Where will they take me?”

“Back,” he said, looking away from me to stare at the trains. The floor seemed to rock under my feet as the vertigo pressed in. It was faint, but it was still there. “To the present. It will be like all of this happened within the span of a heartbeat.”

“Which one will take me back to help Tommy?”

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a half smile. He still wouldn’t look at me. “Both. Technically. Your outlook and how you would approach the situation would be pretty fuckin’ different, though, depending on which one you take.”

I paused.

“Okay, Phil. You told me that those guys with the vines… if I were to end up like one of them, things would be pretty bleak. I believe you. I’m so far out of my depth here that I wouldn’t know what else to believe anyway, so I believe you. So be honest with me. If I were to take this ‘path’ that you opened for me, the one those stupid questions unlocked, what would it entail?”

Some of the heaviness left his voice. “Not that,” he said teasingly.

“Very helpful.”

“I try.”

“Honestly…” He continued. “There might be some side effects. It differs based on the person. But you’d still be you. As much of you as I am me. And if you were part of my domain, then the vines and all those freaks would move on. You and Tommy wouldn’t have to worry about either of them. Techno would be keeping it from hurting him until then, not that it would have cared about him. Then again, if it had you it would leave him be anyway.”

“They wouldn’t be pissed at you if I didn’t pick them?”

“They can be pissed all they want. Wouldn’t change a thing, and they’d know that. There’d be nothing left for them to do about it but move on. Not like they can actually hurt me.”

That only left one other option up in the air that I could think of.

“And if I didn’t take either train? If I just… let them pass?”

“Then you wait for the next one,” he says easily. “And then you really move on. Is that enough like Harry Potter for ya?”

“Yeah,” I say with a chuckle. “Fair enough.”

Phil took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He pulled his wings tight against his back. As he did so, his visage flickered across a vast array of colors and emotions. Red, purple, blue, yellow, happy, sad, angry, content. It was like another hallucination, but as he shifted from one foot to the other, his green cloak was back and those vast blue eyes were understanding. “That’s about all I’ve got, Wil. As much of an explanation as I can give. This isn’t exactly my space. It’s yours. I’ve intruded long enough. I’ll make sure to see you on the other side. Maybe give you some pointers and get you situated, depending on which path you take.”

I risked the verging sense of vertigo to look away from him and take in the trains once more. They sat completely still on the tracks. One red. One blue. Both pointing in opposite directions, set into different tracks. Not even the doors swung on their hinges. It was so still, I could have been looking at a painting. A big choice made to look deceptively simple. All I had to do was step into a car.

“Phil, wait. Don’t go yet. I’m still so confused and I don’t know what questions to ask, can’t you tell me more?”

No answer.

“Phil?”

When I turned back, Phil was gone. Where he was standing, a couple of black feathers drifted down to the concrete floor. I looked up, but the space visible above the train station’s open ceiling was void black and empty. He really was gone.

The station was quiet without him. There was no whistle of the breeze or chatter of the crowd. The clocks didn’t tick and the lights didn’t buzz with electricity. There was just the sound of my breathing and the sway of the room.

The vertigo was back in full swing. I stumbled a few steps closer to the trains and it lessened, but without Phil around it wasn’t vanishing anymore. Only subsiding as I came closer and closer to a choice I was pretty sure I couldn’t come back from. One that I didn’t know the full scope of. I cursed out Phi under my breath for not sticking around.

Still. A choice had to be made. Red. Blue. Or stay?

I always had been partial to the color blue.

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