#for kind of an overview of horror (and ones i like)
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Hello! I don’t know if this space has already been requested, but could I please request #18 with the Cowboy Space with Ethan Landry from Scream VI? For the overview is that Chad basically convinces Ethan to dress up like a shirtless cowboy like him to show off his muscles to impress the girl Ethan has been crushing/in love with.
The girl can be either friends with the Woodsboro group or just a random girl from one of Ethan’s classes. But the girl has also been crushing on Ethan.
Thank you so much for doing the bingo! I love your writing!
—𓆩[save a horse, ride a cowboy]𓆪—
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Ethan Landry x Fem! Crush! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.8K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - NON GHOSTFACE AU
Ethan had been crushing on you since the first day of college. Now, three years in and finally getting the courage thanks to his best friend Chad, he dresses up for the Halloween party as something much more… suggestive. He truly didn’t expect you to show up in an exposed Halloween outfit dressed up as a classic horror character, ready to tease him all night long.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - again, NON GHOSTFACE AU!!! || porn with a plot || but the ghostface character still exists yk || aged up some more, again like 3 years into college || partying || body shots || drinking alcohol (legally, mostly) || mentions of drugs || intoxicated sex but fully consensual || slight gxg relations with reader ig? (tara) || party is set in like a bigger area if that makes sense? || tara and chad are already together || altered timeline slightly? || Ethan and Chad are actually best friends because again, not in like the movie’s universe? || the entire group are actually really good friends (Sam, Tara, Chad, Mindy, Anika – i didn't include Quinn) || everyone’s more lighthearted cuz no trauma || you have a high alcohol tolerance now || kind of public sex || moved to sex in another person’s bathroom || blowjob || self fingering || then moving to a random room || unprotected sex || riding || cumming inside || slight tit worship || mentions of smoking ||
Ethan didn’t think he could go through with this. He stared at himself in the mirror, and though he didn’t dislike what he was seeing, he just didn’t know if he was comfortable.
“Heyo, E, what’s taking so long? We gotta see you!” Chad knocked on the door as Ethan fixed the ascot looking thing around his neck and the cowboy hat he accidentally spent way too much money on. "Ethan, come out here and show us!”
Ethan groaned as he walked out, Chad whistling as he sat next to Tara with his arm around her shoulders. “Look at you! Looking great, Ethan! You’re a lot more muscular than I thought.”
He ignored Chad’s words as Anika giggled slightly, making him look at her. “What’s so funny?”
“You look like you’re about to go into a porno,” she laughed, making Mindy giggle. “A really, really weird porno, but a good one!”
Her words make Ethan groan, pointing at Chad. “He’s wearing the same thing! For fucks sake, I feel like I look so fucking stupid-”
Chad quickly shakes his head. “Come on man, you look great!”
Tara giggled slightly, everyone looking at her. “What’s so funny?” Ethan said again, crossing his arms which made his biceps bulge.
“Texting Y/N,” she said, smiling. “She’s going as Ghostface. A slutty Ghostface, and I told her you’re going as a shirtless cowboy, so you kind of have to wear that now.”
Ethan groaned, face palming. “Promise I don’t look stupid?”
“You look amazing, dude!” Chad.
“You look fucking stupid.” Sam.
“Just don’t star in a porno!” Anika.
“Can we go already? We’re going to be late.” Mindy.
“Yeah, Y/N’s already there, she’s doing body shots. I wanna do body shots with her, it sounds fun!” Tara.
Only Tara’s words stuck with him, because just like her, he really wanted to do body shots with you. Normally, you were part of this mini gang that they had, but you had gone with your two best friends that you had known since high school, especially because it was a frat party.
It wasn’t long until everyone left, leaving the dorms with Ethan and Chad shirtless as they walked to the frat party. “She’s not gonna think I’m weird, right?”
“Nah, man! She’s gonna think you’re hot, coke on! Besides, slutty Ghostface? It pairs up great,” Chad said, shrugging as he held Tara close. “You’re gonna take body shots with Y/N, right?”
“I’m gonna try.”
“Oh definitely!”
Ethan and Tara both spoke at the same time, Tara clapping her hands. “Hell yeah! Ethan’s getting bold, whoop whoop! I go first though.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m still deciding if I’m even gonna go.”
“You better go!” Tara said, nodding. “I have a bet y’all are going to fuck tonight! Don’t make me lose!”
When they got there, they immediately knew where you were since they could see you standing in front of the ping pong table playing beer pong. He smiled as you bit your lips, bouncing the small plastic ball and landing it perfectly on one of the cups, everyone yelling out as you jumped up with a cheer. “Whoo!”
“Y/N!” Tara yelled as she ran over, Chad slapping Ethan’s back.
“Go get her, man!”
Oh, but then he saw you.
You looked fucking perfect in the fishnet body suit that covered your entire body, a mere leather tube top and a leather mini skirt covering your more intimate parts. He could barely talk as you spoke with Tara, laughing and giggling before you grabbed a die.
“Here, I’ll finish this game, and then we can start body shots again!” You smiled, giggling as you jumped up and down slightly. “Oh, Chad, Ethan! Hey guys!”
He smiled slightly, waving as he walked over. “Hey… Hey, you look so nice.”
You giggle, looking down at your outfit. “I tried! Do you think it pulled together well?”
“Uhm… so, so well,” Ethan smiled as you giggled. “You look amazing.”
“Oh, thank you!” You giggled, shaking your head. “So… wanna do some body shots?”
Ethan blushed as Tara nodded vigorously behind you, the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Let’s do some shots?”
It wasn’t until it was actually about to happen did Ethan regret wanting to do shots.
There was dice, terrifying dice that you both had to roll to see where you had to take the shot off the other person’s body. Tara had gotten your tits and you had gotten her stomach, so here you were, bending over the ping pong table as Tara lifted her hips and you tilt your head back and you grabbed the shot with your teeth and tilt your head back, easily swallowing the liquor with your hands pushing up.
Everyone cheered as you grabbed the shot glass, pointing at Ethan. “You’re turn, cowboy!”
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
You laughed as you walked forward and grabbed his hand, dragging him to the ping pong table and putting both dice in his hand and giggling. “Roll for me?” He swallowed, nodding slightly as you hold his wrist, everyone letting out loud wolf whistles as you tilted your head up at him. “Want me to blow on them for you?”
“Y-Yeah.”
“He wants you to blow on a lot more than that, Y/N!” Anika yelled out, laughing as you giggled.
“Roll ‘em.”
Ethan rolled the dice, unable to see what they landed on before Tara cheered. “Crotch and same as partner!”
You giggled, taking the shots that Tara had given to you. “You’re going to take your first shot of the night.”
He basically gulped as you gave him both shots, laying back against the ping pong table and fixing your skirt. You take the shot, carefully setting the shot on your skirt and lifting your hips with your legs spread. “What are you waiting for?”
Everyone started shouting out ‘Shots!’ as Ethan tried to avoid getting between your legs until you roll your eyes, pulling him between your legs to where the shot was. “Y-You’re sure this is okay?”
“Of course,” you twirl one of his curls around your finger, smiling. “Get to it.”
He’s careful as he looked down, slowly wrapping his lips around the shots before you thrust your hips up and he tilted his head back, swallowing it easily. You giggle as he threw his head back, giggling. “Ethan took the shot!”
Everyone cheered as you sat up, Ethan’s face right in front of yours before you grabbed his ascot like thing. “My turn.”
Ethan quickly switched with you, watching as you got between his legs and patted his thighs. “Can I unzip your pants?”
Everyone whistled again as Ethan nods nervously, watching you unzip his jeans and slide the shot over the bulge of his cock that was slowly getting bigger, even though he hoped you didn't see it. He watched as you hummed, watching as Tara stepped forward and gave Ethan the lime wedge. “Put it in your mouth.”
“Wh-What-?” He basically choked as she stuffed it in his mouth, the rind facing the back of his throat before she poured out some salt on his hip bone.
You giggle as you lean forward and down, your ass up as you licked his hip, taking all of the salt before moving to the shot on his dick, his hips bucking automatically into your mouth making you gag slightly before throwing your head back and swallowing the shot. It wasn’t until you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, taking the lime from his mouth and biting into the flesh before taking it out of your mouth and kissing him firmly.
He can taste the pods of the sour lime and bitter tequila, grains of salt still on your tongue brushing against his as you sit in his lap. His hands go to your waist almost immediately, smiling against your lips as you giggle and laugh against his own.
Someone groaned as your hands “God dammit, get off the table!”
Ethan tried to pull back, eyes open as he was about to pull away and help you get off the table before you pulled him closer, not letting him pull back as you flipped your middle finger up in the direction of the voice. He could hear Chad yell something out as you hummed against his lips, your nose bumping against his as you tilted your head making Ethan laugh slightly, smiling as you pulled away, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth.
“We should go back to my apartment.”
Ethan rushes to nod as you quickly stand up, dragging him off the table and down the hall.
“Fuck yeah! Ethan’s gonna get laid!” Chad.
Ethan blushed madly as you laughed, walking backwards to pull him into the entrance hall and press your back against the wall before flipping you both for Ethan to be pressed against the wall instead. “Are you a virgin?”
He swallowed, his mouth dry as he shook his head, then nodded. A quickie with some random girl where he didn’t cum didn’t count, right?
You laughed, shaking your head as you started to rub against his chiseled abdomen. “Well? What is it, yes or no? If you are, I can make this special and we can go back to my apartment quickly. If not, then you’ve had a quickie, right?”
Ethan nodded his head quickly, swallowing as you rubbed against his crotch area. “Y-Yeah, I have.”
“Do you mind if I suck your dick here?” You asked it as though you were asking to take a lollipop from a doctor’s office, your eyes shining with lust as your nails trail over the v that led down. “A quick blowjob, then we can fuck at my apartment.”
Ethan gasped as someone walked past, but of course, you didn't seem to care as you kissed against the bulge. “D-Don’t you think we should go somewhere more private?”
You paused, looking up at him confused. “What do you mean?”
“Y-You… Why don’t we go somewhere where no one can see how good you feel?” He tilted his head down at you, a giggle falling from your lips as you stood.
“Okay,” you dragged him farther down the hall into an actually clean bathroom that he didn’t expect to be as clean as it was before you kneeled down on the rug. “So, can I suck your dick now?”
He laughed, shaking his head slightly. “Y-You’re sure you want to do this?”
“That I want to suck your dick?” You rubbed your nose against the zipper, tilting your head slightly. “Is that okay?”
“Y-Yeah, you can… you can suck m-my dick-” Ethan let out a loud groan as you finished unzipping his pants and pulled out his perfect cock, his length practically dripping with precum and the veins on the underside already bulging. “Fuck, darling, you’re that greedy?”
You hummed as you nodded, wrapping your lips around his tip carefully before your other hand started to push down your exposed stomach and under your skirt. He watched your hand slowly swipe up and down your cunt, rolling your clit between your fingers and pumping his cock at the same time.
He stared at you, groaning as you pumped and gagged on his cock, pulling away to spit on his tip and pump the saliva up to his base. You hummed, staring up at him as you continued to pump his shaft, pulling his cock down your throat and gagging on it. He threw his head back, groaning as he tried to hold back the thrusts of his hips, but for fucks sake your mouth felt so good around his cock and your hand pumping the area that you couldn’t fit in your mouth with your fist as you groaned.
“F-Fuck, cowgirl,” he groaned loudly, head tilted back as you pulled away to giggle, humming as you move your head to the side and lick up the side of his pretty cock. “You suck my cock so perfectly, cowgirl,” he grinned as you pulled away, groaning loudly. He finally noticed your hand as you fingered yourself, hips rutting forward into your hand. “Doing so good.”
You giggled, groaning as you rode your hand and continued to spit on his cock, getting his shaft all wet as you wiped the spit from your chin with the back of your forearm. You hummed as you tilted your head up at him. “Want you to use my mouth,” you whisper, pulling his cock down your throat for a few seconds before gasping as you pull away. “Use my mouth like I’m a little whore, and make cum and spit run down my chin like those pornos, that way I have both of my hands to get off. Fingering myself as you use my throat.”
“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered as you both slowly turned around, Ethan watching as you leaned back against the cabinets and wiped your mouth with your other hand before pushing them both between your legs.
“You won’t hurt me,” you whisper, shaking your head as you groan loudly, your hands quickening against your cunt. “Fuck my mouth. Please, need you to use my mouth.”
Ethan groaned as you lifted your mouth up to lick carefully against his balls, Ethan taking his cock and softly pumping his length. “You sure?”
“Mhm,” you hum an agreement, sighing as you bumped your nose against his tip. “Want to feel it.”
Slowly, he pushed his cock into your mouth, groaning as you leaned forward, his eyes quickly flickering down to your hands in a place that he couldn’t see, rubbing vigorously as you bob your head up and down his shaft. Your eyes rolled back as you relax your jaw, doing the same to your throat as Ethan reached down and held the sides of your head.
Just like you said, he couldn’t stop himself, using your mouth and thrusting down your throat with a groan. “Come on, cowgirl, you’re doing so good… so so good, cowgirl, your throat is fucking perfect.”
You groaned, nodding around his cock as you continued to rut into your hands, your throat perfect and warm around his shaft as he shallowly thrusted down your throat. He let out a loud groan before someone opened the door, his hand quickly going to close it. “Got dammit, busy!”
You giggled as you wiped your throat, leaving the globs of cum and spit on your chin. “Love my throat that much, don’t you?”
“I love you that much,” he whispers, staring at his bright red cock and your hands quickening once again. “I love you so much.”
Your stomach was tight and twisting, the feeling of a hard orgasm settling in your stomach as you moved one of your hands to rub your clit between your thumb and middle finger. You groaned around his cock, bobbing your head even harder around his cock, his hips rutting faster and rougher. You gagged around his cock, the fingers inside of you thrusting faster as you felt drool and cum run down your chin. To be honest, you didn’t register him cumming the first time, and to be honest, neither did he besides the tightness of his stomach.
It was probably when the person almost walked in, because for fucks sake did that turn him on.
Oh, but his stomach was twisting just like yours, tightening as he groaned, the sight of your eyes crossing as they rolled back and mixed globs of cum and saliva ran down your chin.
You groaned loudly as he thrusted his hips forward, groaning loudly as he cradled the back of your head so it wouldn’t hit the counter as his hips started to stutter. If you could have smiled, you would have, even as he softly stroked your hair and you could taste the hot ropes of his salty cum.
You hummed in pleasure as your stomach finally clenched and you came, your hands pushing around his slightly soft cock, pumping him with your cum covered hands as you kissed his tip before swallowing. It makes him gasp as you stand, wiping your mouth and licking your fingers as he stares at the white dripping down your fishnets. “You wish this was your cum, don’t you cowboy?”
“I do,” he whispers, softly grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a firm kiss. “I do… I wish it was my cum dripping down your thighs right now.”
“It can be,” you whisper back, pulling him down for a firm kiss. “There’s a room down the hall no one knows about. We could go there, that way we don’t waste time going to my apartment.”
He smiled slightly, bumping his nose to yours. “How do you know about it then?”
You giggled, shaking your head. “I know because I was able to finish a blunt there without no one interrupting me.”
He shook his head with a laugh as you slowly pushed him back. “Well, lead the way.”
You turned around as you pulled him down the hall, urgently pulling him down for more kisses, desperately wanting his lips on your own. Your lips were still slightly salty as his tongue dragged along your lips, his hands holding your cheeks delicately before you reached up and took his black hat, putting it on your head with a giggle. “Save a horse,”
“Ride a cowboy.”
You both laughed as you kept the hat on, his hands pushing down between your thighs and undoing the zipper down the center all while your hand searched for the doorknob. He laughed as he held your skirt in hand and you finally open the door, his hands doing the same to your top with the zipper in the back and putting it in the same hand together as you quickly got the door open and he pushed you back.
Ethan smiled as he kicked the door closed, kicking off his boots and his jeans before laying back on the bed and watching you slowly crawl above him. “I want to ride you,” you whisper, already pumping his cock as he reaches down and finishes ripping a slit on the fishnet stockings. “Please?”
He groaned as you forced his cock up, the already hard length needing little to no help to stay up straight as you forced yourself up by your knees. “Why are you always asking, cowgirl? For fucks sake, just do what you want to me, I’ll never complain if it’s you.”
You giggle as you finally push his tip into you, throwing your head back with a loud groan. You truly didn’t expect his cock, especially his pretty tip, to be this fucking big. Slowly, you sink down onto his length, watching his face pinch up as he groans loudly and holds your hips tightly.
Ethan let out a loud groan as you started to roll your hips, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you leaned onto his chest for support, leaning down before he shook his head. “W-Wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Wanna see your tits.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, pausing the movements of your hips before leaning down and stealing a quick kiss as you held his face. “You are so a virgin.”
He laughed as his hands moved up your sides, groaning as his hands go from your sides to your poorly covered tits, thumbs swiping over your hard nipples that were poking through one of the holes of the fishnets, his thumb easily pushing inside of the holes before ripping the fabric. You gasped, the sight turning you on more than it should’ve before his hands grope and cup your tits.
The added stimulation made your stomach clench as you desperately alternated between bouncing on his cock to rolling your hips, desperate to hit that perfect spot inside of you. You were whining and letting out broken moans above him, every sporadic, unhinged and unexpected thrusts of his hips making you scream out and fly forward, a groan falling from his lips.
“Come on cowgirl,” he whispers, a grin on his face as his hand swipes over your nipple again. “You’re doing so good, cum on my cock.”
You nodded, mind blurred as you tilted your head back, pushing your hips forward before lifting yourself slightly to feel his cock slide in and out of you.
Ethan groaned loudly as your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, your nails digging into his chest as your eyes rolled back and your thrusts got rougher, a scream of his name falling from your lips before your cunt clenched around his cock and you were about to fall forward before he caught you.
He let out a loud moan as he carefully laid you against his chest, rolling his hips into yours to cum and ride out his high inside of you, stroking your back as you pant above him. “You did so good, cowgirl.”
You hummed, nodding into his neck as you softly rubbed up and down his chest, the hat on your head bumping into his nose as he tried to kiss your head. “You don’t think we’re done yet, do you cowboy? You gotta see your cowgirl ride you backwards.”
Ethan groaned as you sat back up, fixing the hat on your head as he choked. “Now, what kind of cowboy would I be if I didn’t?”
And this... was the last post for our bingo event. I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!! OMG, I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED IT!!! MY REQUESTS ARE AGAIN CLOSED, BUT THEY WILL BE OPEN SOON WITH MORE PROMPTS FOR MY NEXT EVENT. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH, THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPPORT!
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#asterias-record-shop#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry smut#ethan landry x fem!reader#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x y/n#scream#scream fanfic#scream six#scream vi#scream movies#ethan landry scream#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry fluff#ethan landry x fem!reader smut
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I'm curious what you don't like about dao Leliana? If you've got any posts about it could you please point me in their direction?
i probably have posts somewhere but god knows where they are now. i will present a little overview
and to be clear, because i know this website, this is completely a matter of personal taste in writing and character, i am not, um, cancelling leliana dragonage or having anything but appreciation for those who like her, i am saying i probably wouldn’t want to hang out with her. i am also not attempting to convince anyone or justify anything, i am explaining my own feelings since i have been asked about them. i am going to use language that sounds a little overly harsh because i am trying to express those feelings succinctly without making this post very long by apologising and minimising with caveats about when i do like her
i find her a little grating. i find her characterisation based on her backstory irritatingly inconsistent, with genuinely confusing naivete for someone with a supposedly hardened backstory. she’s a literal bard, and she’s always always on the back foot in dialogue with quicker thinkers who can easily shock and scandalise her, and she believes horrors are too ugly for anyone to write about (literal bard!). i’m also vaguely baffled by the amalgamation of vibes they went for visually, like, idk for example, repeatedly mentioning the supposedly ragged boyish hair of someone incapable of understanding a lack of interest in high fashion and who expresses friendship by talking about nice shoes and hair specifically. it makes me struggle to buy into her as a character, and i find her hard to picture.
i think her compassion for others rings fairly false, possibly just on a poor voice acting level; if they wanted me to believe in it from listening to her dialogue when she chimes in during side quests, they got it wrong, i don’t. those bland comments, as cloying on the tongue as artificial sweetener instead of real sugar, are a let-down when i could have someone more entertaining in the party. i hear her talk and think: i wish i’d brought someone else. and her kindness is often shallow, buying into prejudice easily when left unchecked. which is again, weird for a character whose entire concept is being more worldly than she appears. part of that backstory is also definitely growing up mostly surrounded by elven servants, which makes those biases in that direction even more notable to me than they otherwise would be. she’s someone who’s absorbed in her own internal struggle yet who has never noticed the struggles of those around her until directly confronted. i am constantly disappointed by the missed opportunities with her character, like her mixed cultural identity barely being discussed in a game where the backdrop of the ferelden-orlais conflict being under-explored is to me one of really very few big storytelling mistakes, or like her mechanic where you can ask her about wherever you are—a really fun idea, for a bard!—and she literally never not once has anything interesting to say. like, come onnn. im the worldbuilding enjoyer. hit me with something
some of this is going to be affected also by me having spent the most time with her as my surana, who happens as a character to be a natural born hater, and also predisposed to share some of these feelings. i do find dao leliana much more fun to hang out with when playing a non-elven, non-mage character, but given the in-world context, that in itself is perhaps not a glowing recommendation? (obligatory note again, i am not up in arms that this fictional character has fictional prejudices against fictional people and i in fact think this part is good writing that suits the world. the version of her i adore is, after all, in dai when she has done significantly more wrongs including against elves and mages specifically.) it’s more that kindness should be what leliana has going for her as one of the most prominently good-aligned companions, and i don’t believe in hers. if i’m committing to this being me disliking the character rather than disliking some writing flaw, i could say that i read her compassion as a performance, and that’s something i happen to never really like in a person or character: when they act because they want to look like a good person, and feel like a good person, rather than because they truly care about the impact of their actions. maybe i don’t prefer her in dai because she’s somehow better written; maybe she just drops that mask i don’t care for. hard to say!
also her personal quest has some of the worst writing and acting in the game i never want to hear marjolaine again. please.
#and now for a childish addition: also i cant believe i get leliana and maric gets katriel. i shouldve had katriel#i wouldve treated her right.#leliana enjoyers please dont hate me for this i love your work. i love that you love your girl shes just not for me#top ten posts i am going to regret in the morning. hits that post button
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blood set ablaze
Marilyn Thornhill x Fem!Reader
OVERVIEW: After studying late into the night at the library and completely losing track of time, you realise you might have to wait a very long time to catch a train ride home. Luckily, your botanical professor, Marilyn Thornhill, also appears to still be on campus and offers you a ride home. Her act of kindness poses a question to you: what could you ever do to thank her?
WORD COUNT: 6.5k
WARNINGS: (18+ NSFW) heavy smut, praise kink, sub!reader, dom!marilyn, legal age gap, alternate universe - college/university, oral sex, fingering, orgasm denial, blood
A/N: After many, many months - I am finally back (with a very nasty fic)! I apologise for the long period of radio silence; life was quite busy these past few months and I completely forgot I had this piece in the drafts. Nevertheless, enjoy!
Your eyes widen at the spectacle in front of you; the auburn-haired woman’s eyes are fully blown, and her tongue darts out to lick at the blood on her lips. Something equally sinister and ravenous twists in your stomach, and you can’t tell if it’s a good feeling or not, but you don’t have time to ponder the odd fervour that starts to contaminate your bloodstream because she suddenly surges in for another kiss, devouring you all over again.
All you can do is close your eyes and let your mouth find hers for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.
— — —
People say they like winter, but when it rolls around to the season of frost coating the tips of grass and shorter days of sunlight, they suddenly wish it was summer – or, more precisely, that they didn’t have to trudge through the freezing rain at night.
As you walk through campus, your hands are shoved in your coat pockets, clutching tightly at the inner fabric to stay warm. You were so caught up with your studies in the library that you didn’t realise how late it had become and how the stars had replaced the setting sun so quickly.
The rain isn’t too heavy, but the air is a bit too cold for your liking. You had also forgotten to bring an umbrella and a warmer coat when you left your place, putting all your trust into the weather app on your phone – which had stated there would only be light rain in the afternoon and clear skies afterwards. Apparently, the weather decided to change its mind.
On another note, it’s also the beginning of finals season, and you’ve been absolutely stressed from head to toe, leading to your nose being stuck in various textbooks during most of the day, every day. While your friends keep up with a balanced life, seamlessly juggling their social lives and academia, you find yourself wholly fixated on your studies, determined that you’ll be able to perform at your very best when you have to sit your exams.
You stop for a second to pull out your phone. The trains from Jericho frequently run during peak hours, such as, in the afternoon and in the evening when people finish work. But right now, it’s late at night, and you’re almost sure you’ll have to wait at least forty-five minutes for a ride home.
Now it’s suddenly hitting you, that regret of deciding to stay so long in the library to study when you could've done all your work at home. The dampness of your hair, the shivering of your body, and the formidable darkness of the night sky fuel the feeling of regret so horribly well that it makes you mutter out an annoyed ‘fuck’ from your lips.
It doesn’t help that most of the trees on campus are terribly monstrous and old, having existed here way before the academy was even built. They crane over both sides of the large and endless cobble footpath, creating a scene that looks like something straight out of a gothic horror movie.
The trees sway with the gentle wind and rain, causing branches to prod and clip at adjacent ones. You stand on the path under a leafless tree with your left hand shielding your phone from the rain, checking for the train timetable.
You’re too busy scrolling on your phone and lost in thought to hear the sound of clicking footsteps in the rain approaching you from behind. It’s not until you stop feeling the droplets of rain hit your face, and a strange earthy saccharine scent fills your senses that you look up from your phone.
“Behind you,” a cheery voice muses out through the rain pattering on cobblestones. The tone of voice is a little ironic, considering how unsavoury the current weather is.
You turn around on the balls of your feet to meet a familiar face – perhaps a little too familiar – for you have tried to memorise the details of her face during lectures and put in extra hours of study to ensure you were always on top of things for that paper. Sometimes, you would sit at your desk in the middle of a study session at home and think of her and nothing else; thoughts of plant anatomy would digress into ones filled with an auburn-haired woman in denim overalls and hazel eyes that glowed behind wide-rimmed glasses.
Marilyn Thornhill is your botany professor, and somehow she’s standing here with you in the dark, umbrella in one hand, shielding you both from the rain with an alluring smile on her lips.
She’s always cheerful and passionate about everything. You can’t help but feel like a moth to a flame when she’s around; your eyes relentlessly follow her hand gestures while she speaks, drawn to her persistent positivity that you wished you had on your bad days.
“Professor Thornhill! Oh- hi!” Your fingers absentmindedly turn off your phone in a moment of surprise. “What are you still doing here?”
Marilyn smiles warmly, despite the chilly air causing ears and fingertips to go cold. “I was going to ask you the same question, sweetheart.” She pushes up the glasses sitting on her nose bridge. “I was just marking papers in my office and running errands for Headmaster Weems.”
The pet name sends a slight wave of heat across your collarbones, but you convince yourself it’s just your body’s physiological response to the cold. “Oh, cool,” you simply reply, afraid something stupid will slip from your lips.
“And how about you, Y/N?” She steps a little closer towards you to ensure her umbrella is keeping you dry. “I don’t know of any extracurriculars today that run until late,” she says lightly with a questionable look in her gaze.
“Oh, I was just studying in the library, and I kind of lost track of time,” you sheepishly smile and turn on your phone to check the time before turning it off again.
She starts to snake an arm around the small of your back, and you suddenly find yourself walking with her in the rain. Your feet seem to be on autopilot as they walk in sync with her, the sound of two pairs of shoes clicking against the wet pavement, echoing off into the distance.
Your body is starting to register the realness of her touch as the heart in your chest races slightly faster than usual. You don’t know exactly where the two of you are going, but you know you’re content with being in the older woman's presence.
It makes you wonder: when did you start crushing on the older woman? Was it when you first laid eyes on her during your first botany lecture? Was it during your laboratory sessions in the greenhouse where she’d squeeze your shoulder in encouragement when you were stuck with an experiment? Or was it, perhaps, when you would ask her questions after lectures, and she would look at you with a twinkle in her eyes, pleased that you were so invested in botany?
Marilyn gently retracts her arm from your shoulder and breaks the silence. “Do you have a ride home? It’s terribly late, and I wouldn’t want you going home all by yourself.”
Your heart is about to jump out of your chest at her considerate words. “Oh, I’ll be okay; I’ve got a train to catch at the station that’s scheduled to depart soon.” you smile meekly at her, uncertain about the truth of your own words.
She frowns at you, clearly unamused. “I don’t know how I feel about you walking alone to the station at night and in the pouring rain.” She stops walking and puts a hand on her hips. “Why don’t you let me drive you home?”
You laugh nervously. “Professor Thornhill, I don’t want to be a hassle for you,” you momentarily look down at your shoes and back up at her. “I’ll be fine. I’ve taken the train home many times at night before.”
The woman before you tilts her head disapprovingly, clearly not having any of it. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s no hassle at all. It’s important that my students get home safely,” she says with a hint of firmness in her tone.
You contemplate her words for a moment. “Okay, if you say so.” You give her an appreciative smile, and she gives one back and nods in acknowledgement.
You follow her to the staff car park, occasionally making small talk with the older woman about the weather, how lectures were today, and plans for the weekend. It’s no surprise when you find out that she’s planning to renovate her garden and read a biography about a famous horticulturist. You imagine her garden to be filled with life: exotic winter flowers and plants covering the place, a variety of colours spilling everywhere.
The two of you arrive at her car – a purple Volkswagen Beetle. She unlocks it, allowing you to get inside and sit yourself down.
You fiddle with your fingers in the passenger seat of her car while your botany professor checks her mirrors. She notices your movements in her peripheral vision and asks what’s the matter.
“Is everything alright, Y/N?” She doesn’t turn to look at you, but you find yourself immediately ceasing your movements. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first.
“Sorry,” you say, clearing your throat. “My hands are just a little bit numb from the cold, that’s all,” you lie.
Truthfully, you’re nervous about being alone and in such close proximity with the auburn-haired woman. You’ve always admired her from afar, yet here you are now, just an arm's length away from her, sitting in her car.
Marilyn turns and unexpectedly goes to clasp her hands around your own hands. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her soft, warm fingers wrap around yours, gently caressing your knuckles. Your mind is quick and cruel, conjuring an image of her hands situated around something else…
… The base of your neck, cradling it gently. Her fingers move to trace invisible lines from your jawline to your throat. Without wasting any time, her free hand begins to squeeze at your trachea gently, and you feel your airways constrict slightly. With wide eyes, you watch as she surges forward, about to replenish your oxygen with a kiss-
Your humiliating imagination doesn’t last long as you’re jerked back into reality by her voice.
“Oh dear,” she pouts sympathetically. “You’re like ice! Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in no time so you can get all warmed up.”
And it’s over, just like that. She retracts her hands from yours and starts the ignition of her car. You find yourself missing her touch, biting the inside of your cheeks as you try to ignore a peculiar feeling beginning to brew within your chest.
You give her directions to your place as she drives through the gates of the academy. Your elbow rests on the car door, supporting your chin as you stare out the window, watching the beads of rain run down the surface. Professor Thornhill has the radio playing at a low volume, where you can make out the sound of a violin and a piano chiming in a gentle rhythm – a classical piece you’ve never heard of before.
“I never thought you’d be the type to listen to the orchestra,” you say with a hint of curiosity, eyes still following the droplets of rain.
You’re too busy looking out the window to see the smirk that’s made its way onto the auburn-haired woman’s mouth.
“I enjoy listening to a lot of things,” she hums.
— — —
“Well,” she says. You turn to look at the woman in the driver’s seat as she announces, “We’re finally here.”
You resist the urge to tuck a stray piece of hair dangling near your eyes behind your ear. For a moment, the low sound of the car engine humming away is the only noise that fills the silence as the two of you sit, gazing off into the distance of the dimly lit street.
“Thank you so much for driving me home. I really appreciate it, Professor Thornhill,” you say, turning your head to offer her a grateful smile.
She gazes back at you through her glasses, almost as if she’s trying to study you. Her eyes roam – and she doesn’t hide the fact that she’s doing it. When her eyes drop to your lips for a split second, your brain doesn’t know if it’s your imagination or not.
She’s pushing her glasses up and looking right at you again, but this time with an indecipherable look.
“It was no problem, sweetheart,” she says in a low gentle voice. “I’m satisfied that I definitely know you’re home safely and in one piece.”
Your heart warms – truly grateful that she took the time and consideration to take you home. You’re so grateful that you don’t realise you’re suddenly spilling offers from your lips.
“Do– do you maybe want to just come inside for a glass of water or use the bathroom before you drive back to your place?” Your heart hammers against your rib cage after the words leave your lips.
She lets out a light, appreciative laugh. “Oh, Y/N… How kind of you, but it’s quite late, and I don’t want to disrupt you from getting a good night’s rest.”
You finally tuck the loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, you wouldn’t be interfering with anything, and honestly, it’s the least I can do to repay you for taking me home.”
Marilyn’s fingers find her keys in the ignition, and in one movement, the car’s engine stops. “You are sweet,” she pauses. “I won’t stay for long then.”
The two of you climb out of her car, and you wait as she locks it. You begin to lead the way to the entrance of your place, hearing the sound of her footsteps following closely from behind.
For some reason, there's a feeling in your gut that her eyes are burning into your back as you start to unlock your front door, yet you don’t know for sure.
You don’t even know what you’re trying to achieve right now, inviting the professor you have a crush on into your place.
When you step inside and hold the door open for her, it earns you a smile that almost seems like a smirk, causing you to blush briefly.
Her eyes roam the interior of your place, admiring how cosy it looks. “What a lovely place you have, Y/N. Do you live by yourself?”
You smile nervously. “Thanks, it was a team effort,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “I’m currently living with two other people. I think they’re at a party right now or something.”
She hums in response, and you watch as she goes to adjust her glasses. “That’s lovely. Why aren’t you at the party with them?”
“I thought I would leave partying until after exams are over and focus on studying.”
“Good girl.”
Your throat almost instantaneously goes dry at the praise. God. Nobody will ever understand the effect this woman has on you. How simple words that leave her lips can cause your heart to quicken; how she makes you feel like melting into a puddle with the quirk of a lip. Not even you will ever understand how she makes you feel this way.
Not wanting the older woman to notice the state you’ve fallen into, you suddenly mention, “Oh, the bathroom is just down the hall and to the left if you need it.”
She squeezes your bicep as a “thanks” before leaving you alone. You let out a breath – almost like a sigh – as the ghost of her touch lingers on your arm, and her sultry voice echoes in the forefront of your mind.
You go to grab two glasses, fill them up with water and settle them down on the kitchen bench as you await for her to return.
Hmm, you mumble to yourself. Your eyes dart to the couch and the coffee table across the room. You think it might be more comfortable for the two of you to sit there instead of standing at the kitchen island. It wouldn’t be very nice for your guest to remain on her feet, considering she must be tired from standing and pacing back and forth during her lectures today.
As you pick up the glasses and begin to walk over to the couch, you suddenly crash into something, causing you to drop one of the glasses onto the floor. Countless shards of glass scatter on impact, water droplets splash up onto your pants and pool onto the floor.
Your eyes widen in shock when you realise you’ve just crashed into Marilyn as she was returning from the bathroom.
“Professor Thornhill– oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?!”
You internally curse yourself at your clumsiness. It makes you want to dig your own grave right there on your kitchen floor.
The older woman, though slightly taken aback by the sudden collision, remains calm, her face softening at the look of concern on your face.
“It’s alright, Y/N. I’m perfectly fine,” she says with a reassuring smile. “Are you okay?”
You look up at her and lock eyes, searching for any sign of distress. She doesn’t show any visible irritation – or anything of the sort – but your concern for the woman persists, guilt simmering in your throat at your own idiocy.
Marilyn notices your worry and goes to reach out a comforting hand, squeezing your arm. “Truly, I’m alright. I’m unharmed; please don’t worry.”
You finally release a breath of slight relief, convinced that’s alright. “Okay,” you say gently.
The floor is a mess: bits of broken glass and a pool of water where the two of you stand. Luckily, your clothes or hers aren’t too wet, just some splotches of water here and there. You decide to offer her if she wants a towel anyway.
“Do you want a towel? I don’t want you to feel cold or anything.”
“I’m not too wet; it’s alright.” Your stomach shifts at her words as you think about something else entirely. “Thank you, though.”
The other glass is in your hands, still intact from the accident but is now almost empty. You bend down and place it on the floor and begin to pick up the large pieces of broken glass, not wanting to cause any more accidents.
“You can sit down if you like, and I’ll get you another glass of water,” you say from the floor as you collect the shards. “I’m just going to clean this up quickly.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she lightly laughs and looks down at you. “I won’t let you clean this up by yourself.”
“Please, don’t worry! It’s absolutely fine- shit!” You let go of a piece of glass you had just picked up, blood suddenly oozing from a newly-formed cut on your fingers.
A look of worry is all over the older woman’s face, and she immediately bends down to your level on the floor. “Oh dear, are you alright?”
You hold out your bloodied hand before you and watch as she peers at your injury through her glasses before taking your hand into her own. She delicately turns your hand around to examine the severity of your injury.
“It just stings a little… I’ll be alright; I have bandages and antiseptic somewhere in the cupboard,” you nervously chuckle as you notice that she’s still holding onto your hand.
For some reason, you look at her eyes and see they’re dilating. Both of you are on the floor with hardly any distance between the two of you, with her holding your bleeding hand and you on your knees. Most people would not think twice about a situation like this, but for you, it sends your heart marching, becoming progressively quicker.
She flicks her gaze up at you. The abruptness of the action makes you freeze like a deer in headlights, feeling like you’ve just been caught doing something wrong.
You suddenly realise what she begins to do, and it threatens to spin your head completely off your shoulders, like a screw coming off a hinge.
She has the palm of your hand flat and open and goes to dip her head while you watch in shock as she begins to lick a stripe of blood from your fingers. You sit and stare as your chest rises and falls, feeling dizzy from the sight before you.
She looks at you as she does it. Not for a single second does she look away, causing you to feel paralysed in place. You swear that you’re dreaming because this can’t be real.
Unexpectedly, you feel a rush of heat sink to the bottom of your stomach, and you swallow thickly – a revelation of your own self-semblance slipping through your fingertips second by second. Her gesture feels like the strike of a match against the box. It’s bold. It’s so riveting. You don’t know what’s happening to you. You don’t know what she’s doing to you.
This has to be some sort of ridiculous dream you’re having right now.
“Fuck,” you can’t help but mutter out loud. She hums when she hears the profanity escape from your lips, encouraging her even more because now she’s taking your forefinger and middle finger into her mouth, right up to your knuckles.
You feel her tongue swirl around your digits and over the cut caused by the broken glass. A wave of arousal washes over you, making you close your eyes and breathe deeply. You don’t say a single word – you’re too lost for words. Even if you tried saying something, it’d probably come out incoherent.
Without warning, you feel her mouth retract from your fingers, prompting you to open your eyes. She leans forward, slowly licking her lips and chuckling at the wide-eyed expression on your face.
“Why don’t we continue this somewhere else, sweetheart?” Her voice husks in the small space between the two of you. “We can deal with the mess later. It won’t be going anywhere.”
She stands up and holds out a hand to you. You take it, and she pulls you up from the ground. Your feet begin scrambling backwards to the couch, and she follows you at a close distance, almost like a fox backing her prey into a corner with nowhere to run to.
You let her push you down, relishing in the way your back hits the soft material of the couch. She doesn’t waste any time and immediately straddles your hips with a smirk forming on her lips.
Your fingers don’t seem to throb from the cut anymore, but now something else seems to be.
Marilyn hasn’t kissed you yet, but the neediness within you is almost reaching its threshold. A whine leaves your lips as she brings a hand to hold your jaw firmly.
“Please,” you breathlessly say, desperate for her to touch you – to do anything to you.
She just chuckles and goes to take her glasses off. “Patience, Y/N.”
You can’t help but sigh at the sight of her without her glasses. You’ve always seen her wearing them in lectures, and you have never seen her without them on.
“God…” You breathe out in awe.
She quickly transfers her weight and leans away to place her glasses on the coffee table. When she returns to you, she bites her lip at the look of desperation on your face. She runs a thumb over your cheek before lowering her face close to yours.
And she surges in for the kill.
You think about everything and nothing all at once. It makes you wonder how you’ve been able to live this long without experiencing the pure feeling of Marilyn’s lips on yours and how her hot, wet tongue prods against your lips. You immediately grant her access as impatience and desire start to flow through your veins, spurring you on.
The feeling of her tongue in your mouth draws a groan from somewhere deep within your chest, and you feel absolutely wild.
She kisses you like you’re something sweet. You can feel your tongue against hers, wet and hungry, kissing you messily without relenting.
Your hands wander to the back of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer to you. The cut on your hand is long forgotten, now threading through auburn locks of hair.
Marilyn pulls away from your mouth and snakes around to your ear, where you can feel the soft skin of her cheek against yours. Her hand finds the collar of your shirt and tugs at it.
“I want you to take everything off, darling,” she husks into your ear before pulling away and getting off of you so you can comply.
You feel yourself grow wet at her words, heart beating so ferociously that you swear Marilyn can hear the pounding drums in your chest.
The woman in the question gazes down at you, pupils dilating and dark as she watches your hands fumble for the hem of your shirt. You partially sit up, pulling the material over your head and dropping it carelessly on the floor somewhere.
You’re left topless in a simple black lace bra. Goosebumps begin to form on your skin, and you’re unsure if it’s because of the cold or how you see Marilyn subtly bite her bottom lip at the sight of you.
You let her eyes linger on your form for a moment before your hands glide down the plane of your stomach to the top of the waistband of your jeans.
Her eyes follow the movement of your hands, waiting in anticipation for you to make the next move. However, something devious racks your mind, urging you to test the waters.
You wonder what she would do if you, perhaps, mess around a little bit.
Your fingers find the button of your jeans, toying with them slightly before popping them open. Immediately, you look at Marilyn to see her fiery gaze burning into you, waiting for you to continue. It sends a shiver down your spine. It feels thrilling to be seen like this. By her. By the woman that is Marilyn Thornhill.
Your fingers rest on the zipper, unmoving as you await a reaction from the other woman.
“Oh, sweet girl, do you really think that is a good idea?”
“What do you mean?” You pretend to be confused by her words, fingers gently fiddling with the zipper.
“Sweetheart.”
Oh, god. The sternness in her voice makes you feel more aroused, and you blink several times to maintain your composure. You remain unmoving but flash her another look of faux naivety. It appears that she has a short fuse.
“You’ll regret this later on. I’m going to make sure of it.”
You don’t have time to say something witty back to her because she’s surging forward and clambering on top of you again, her mouth attacking the skin under your jaw.
She sucks and nips gently, making you let out little gasps. It’s certain that she’s going to leave a mark on your skin; the mere thought of her doing such a thing causes you to groan.
Marilyn smirks against your neck, proud of herself, knowing she’s making you feel this way. She kisses a wet trail from your neck to your throat and ends up in the valley between your breasts.
Desperation causes you to slip a hand underneath your back to unclasp your bra. The other woman helps you take it off and tosses it somewhere behind her.
She rests on your lower stomach, leering at your exposed chest from above.
You feel yourself grow embarrassed, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides, wanting to cover yourself up. Marilyn must notice this because she brings a thumb to your lower lip and strokes it gently to soothe you.
“My gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”
You blush and grow hot at her words, low and almost raspy, dripping from her lips like honey you could drink endlessly.
“I’m going to take care of you,” she assures you. “I’m going to fuck you like crazy.”
You gasp as her hand goes to your left breast, fingers running over a nipple, causing you to flutter your eyelids at the feeling. She leans down and kisses you while she kneads your breast, her movements growing rougher with each second that passes by.
Marilyn leaves your lips, causing you to whine in frustration. Her mouth then latches onto your breast, gently biting and sucking your soft skin. She repeats this with your other breast, causing you to release a breathy sigh, the sensation of her swirling tongue on your nipple becoming absolutely electrifying.
The throbbing between your thighs grows, becoming almost unbearable. You’re a terribly impatient person; you won’t deny it. Unashamedly, you grab her free hand and trail it with yours down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans, a few of her fingers tucking slightly underneath the elastic.
You give in, begging her to touch you as impatience sears through your body. “I can’t take it anymore. Please, Marilyn.”
She raises an eyebrow at you and lets out a breathy laugh, amused. Her warm, lithe fingers remain unmoving at your waistband for a moment before she slips her hand out of your grasp to pull down your zipper so her hand can move more freely.
The older woman pulls out your own hand from your pants and replaces it with her own. Marilyn traces a finger over your clothed cunt, forcing you to bite back a moan.
“You’re already soaked…” She murmurs, eyes flashing with amusement.
You swallow thickly. The sensation of her touch has every inch of your skin on fire, your blood set ablaze.
But it’s not enough.
You need more.
You try to wriggle out of your jeans. Marilyn notices this and helps you, tugging them off roughly, along with your underwear.
The coolness of the air hits your sex, sending electricity through your spine. You're suddenly hyperaware that you’re lying naked underneath your botany professor, about to be fucked by her.
She runs her fingers through your arousal, spreading it around your entrance gently. Without warning, she slips two fingers inside you, and you think: this is it; I’m going to die tonight.
But for some reason, you’re certainly convinced that you’re more than willing to die at the hands of your botany professor; her hands that feed the Venus flytraps in the greenhouse; her hands that grip a textbook while she’s lecturing. You’re willing to lose every bit of yourself to her entirely.
“Fuck,” is the only thing you manage to breathe out, spreading your legs wider for her.
“Oh, just you wait, sweet girl.” She’s starting to increase her pace, and you gasp loudly as she curls her fingers perfectly, in and out of you continuously. “I’m barely even started with you.”
She picks up a brutal pace, coaxing soft moans from you with each thrust. It doesn’t take you long to feel the knot in your stomach tighten, prompting your heart to race even faster.
“More, please- I think I’m going to-“
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she says cruelly, pulling her fingers out of you, causing you to cry out. She stands up and begins tearing off her clothing; your mind is trying to process what she’s just done.
“You think you could tease me like you did before and get away with it?” She unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. “I don’t think so.”
You simply watch silently as she undresses, dragging her underwear down her legs. She does it slowly and delicately, eyes fixed on you. Your eyes have a mind of their own, scanning her from top to bottom, slowly. Embarrassingly, more wetness leaks from your cunt, drooling down your thighs.
When she’s finished, she presses her exposed front to your own, lying on top of you as she begins to kiss you again. She kisses you sensually, tongue prodding the inside of your mouth. You moan into her mouth at the feeling – at the feeling of her mouth and her naked body on yours, warm skin against yours.
Your arms encompass her body, pulling her impossibly closer to you. You absentmindedly dig your nails into the soft skin of her back, causing her to groan against your mouth.
“Profess– Marilyn…” You whimper in between kisses before she suddenly stops. “Please, I’m sorry for teasing you before. I’ll- I’ll be good this time.”
She leaves an inch of distance between your lips and hers for a split second, contemplating your words. Without warning, she goes to kiss you again.
This time it’s different; you feel like you’re being devoured by her. The thought causes you to groan into her mouth. She retaliates by biting your bottom lip – hard.
You feel the skin split open and start to taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue. When she moans, you know she’s finally got a taste of it too. The kisses become sloppy, and you feel more wetness pool between your thighs as the two of you relish in the taste of blood and the heat of wet tongues colliding against each other like waves against the rocky shore.
Marilyn goes to nip at the same area on your bottom lip again, certain for more blood to spill from the wound. You almost yelp out in pain and surprise; it never occurred to you that there lies a much darker side to her under all her cheery smiles and dignified praise in the classroom.
She pulls away from you, leaving your chest heaving and your heart pounding at your ribcage. You feel how your bottom lip throbs from how hard she bit you. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you looked into a mirror and saw your lips swollen from kisses and bites and your face flushed, covered by a thin sheen of sweat.
Your eyes widen at the spectacle in front of you; the auburn-haired woman’s eyes are fully blown, and her tongue darts out to lick at the blood on her lips. Something equally sinister and ravenous twists in your stomach, and you can’t tell if it’s a good feeling or not, but you don’t have time to ponder the odd fervour that starts to contaminate your bloodstream because she suddenly surges in for another kiss, devouring you all over again.
All you can do is close your eyes and let your mouth find hers for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.
Your nails dig into her bare shoulder as she kisses you, holding onto her for dear life. She kisses you rhythmically while you follow along, just as if she’s the conductor and you’re the orchestra at this very moment.
It’s just like the music that was playing on the radio in her car – the sounds of pianos and strings intertwining, forming a melody both so delicate and ferocious at the same time.
Her fingers trace down your side and between your thighs once more, fingertips briefly grazing the soft skin there before she drags a finger through your arousal and circles your clit. The action is familiar; you just hope she’ll finish you off this time.
You’re panting as blood rushes to your ears and head, lost in the sensation of Marilyn’s touch. She plunges two fingers into your core and begins pumping in and out of you at an increasingly erratic pace while simultaneously rubbing that sensitive spot on your cunt, drawing mewls from you.
You feel something beginning to tighten in your stomach, hips buckling as you near the peak. The sounds of her fucking you fill the room, humility wavering in your mind temporarily before you decide that you don’t care about anything else right now.
“I’m almost there,” you pant out, voice slightly hoarse from all the noises you've been making.
She tsks. You want to cry as she denies you an orgasm for the second time.
Marilyn stops touching you completely and doesn’t say a word; she leaves you with a bewildered look on your face, your mouth hanging open stupidly, whimpering in frustration. She flashes you a quick smirk, and you notice a bit of blood in the corner of her lips. You resist the urge to surge up to her and lick her lips clean of your own crimson sap.
Before any words can leave your throat – pleading for her to continue, begging unashamedly – she slides down your body, grazing her fingertips along your frame. She doesn’t waste any time as she goes to lick one long stripe through your cunt before entering you with her tongue.
A noise escapes your lips, breathy and high-pitched, almost like a hyena. Your hands fly to the older woman’s scalp to tug at her auburn locks, causing her to hum into your cunt, evident that your pleasure is also hers.
Marilyn’s lips attach to your clit, and it doesn’t take that much for you to feel the knot in your stomach start to uncoil, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut as you arch your back and come into her mouth. Her name breathlessly leaves your lips like a desperate mantra you thought you would've never heard yourself say out loud until tonight.
You feel her tongue continue to attack at your core, even after you’ve came. Her pace doesn't falter, causing you to moan louder and louder. Soon after, you find yourself arching your back, muscles straining, coming once again.
It takes you a moment to come down to earth, steadying your breathing after a moment of ecstasy. The older woman uses a thumb to rub gentle circles on your thigh. She sits up. Her hair is messy from you pulling at it, and some of your arousal is still on her lips, causing you to flush at the sight.
She catches the way you stare at her, and she makes a show of slowly licking her lips. The gesture is erotic. It causes you to feel that familiar flame within you start up all over again.
“Now.” She pauses. “I wonder what you would look like on your knees for me.”
You sit up on your elbows, watching Marilyn swing her legs around to sit on the couch properly. You realise you haven't spoken for a minute because she goes to tease you.
“Oh, sweetheart, has the cat got your tongue?” She looks at you, pouting with mock sympathy.
You swallow thickly and shake your head in response. This was going to be a long, long night. You just hope your roommates decide to stay at the party until tomorrow morning.
“That’s what I thought.” She smooths a hand over her thigh. “Now, why don’t you put that tongue of yours to good use?”
#marilyn thornhill#marilyn thornhill x reader#marilyn thornhill smut#wednesday 2022#christina ricci#laurel gates#wednesday#wlw#wednesday netflix#marilyn thornhill x fem reader
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DID Short Films
Something I really enjoy is watching short films about DID :) it's always intriguing to see what sort of representation can be showed in a few short minutes, and just how much care and attention to detail is put into it.
I don't have the energy to do a full review of each, but here's a lil list of my favorite short DID films, along with some trigger warnings!
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Petals of a Rose
Triggers to watch out for:
a non-explicit incestuous childhood sexual abuse flashback (there's a safe version to watch with this part cut out in the same link!)
a safe and gentle non-explicit sex scene
dissociating and switching during sex
spiraling, hitting self, friction between parts
over-crowded dialogue
Things I love about this short:
We get multiple stellar scenes of what it can feel like to have DID - like being overwhelmed in the grocery store, talking yourself through the steps of it all. I really related to a lot of this
A good representation of how both positive and negative triggers can cause switches
communication between parts!
the implication of there being more parts yet to be found and how that's just kind of an accepted reality? I don't know if thats relatable for anyone else, but it really is for me
A LOVING AND HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP :DDD a partner who loves and supports and listens even if he doesn't fully understands, but clearly wants to. The amount of relief I felt when the partner STAYED with her after experiencing triggers during sex!!
The reiterations at the end that Now Time Is Safe and also, We Deserve to be Loved, and also, Each and every part is appreciated and loved
________________
Alter
youtube
Triggers to watch out for:
mild friction between parts
time loss + confusion
Things I love about this short:
The actress who portrayed the parts did a really stunning job with expressing complicated emotions surrounding time loss and the acceptance of a new part showing up
portraying a well-established system with functional multiplicity!
the use of color to portray parts is something I always remember about this one! I love that each part represents a color! I love that you can see all those colors throughout the home and in the outfits!! I love the rainbow-striped shirt she wore in the end with all the alters' colors + extra space, as if to signify that they're ready to accept more parts!!! aaaa!!! Such a great aesthetic to this film
I was SO pleased there really isnt anything triggering about this film. It's important to indicate that trauma creates the disorder, but it's SO nice when we get a bit of a break from the Horrors
supportive therapist :D
_____________
Alters and Me
youtube
Triggers to watch out for:
Mentions of trauma/abuse (very general + vague)
use of Alcohol to cope
self harm, visible scars
yelling/crying
Things I love about this short:
I like that this one's more like a general overview of the alters and how our main character came to understand and accept her DID
nonhuman alter representation!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (a doggo)
The alter who struggles with alcoholic coping and self harm has a realistic reformation arc and turns out to be a cherished caretaker!!
Overall this one's pretty short, but very down to earth and realistic without being too triggering. I liked it a lot!
_______________________
I'm sure there are others that are good too, but that's my list for now! I tried to choose ones that didn't lean too far into horror trope editing or twists so they're safe for anyone to watch :) I might add to this sometime in the future if I see more
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! Feel free to let me know your thoughts or share some of your favorites with me, you know I'm always curious to hear about this stuff
#dissociative identity disorder#did in media#actuallydid#bunnidid reviews#media reccs#complex dissociative disorder#did short films#short films#I could not tell you who made this list or why but she's not here now#Youtube
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Hello! My play group has recently begun a PF2e game and we're enjoying it, but as an almost-forever-GM running one-shots looking for The Next Big Game to run I'm definitely noticing a trend of "a small run of bad rolls has decided you lose" that stands in contrast to a more subjectively "forgiving" system like Cypher or Quest. I know any dice-based game can theoretically end up with the dice deciding "you lose tonight," but it got me to thinking about that feeling in trying new systems. We definitely love mechanics in play - i.e. I'm not strictly looking for diceless systems, but they're not off the table either - so I'd love to hear about games you like and think are on the forgiving side of the spectrum with regards to bad luck streaks. Thank you!
THEME: “Forgiving” Games.
Hello friend, I love these kinds of games a lot. Here's a few outside of Numenera, which you already seem to know about. I tried to stick with games that have some longevity, although I'm not sure how long you can play Our Haunt as a campaign.
Vaesen, by Free League Publishing.
Welcome to the Mythic North – northern Europe of the nineteenth century, but not as we know it today. A land where the myths are real. A cold reach covered by vast forests, its few cities lonely beacons of industry and enlightenment – a new civilization dawning. But in the countryside, the old ways still hold sway. There, people know what lurks in the dark. They know to fear it.
Vaesen – Nordic Horror Roleplaying is written by Nils Hintze and based on the work of Swedish illustrator and author Johan Egerkrans. Vaesen presents a dark Gothic setting steeped in Nordic folklore and the old myths of Scandinavia. The game mechanics utilize an adapted version of the award-winning Year Zero Engine.
Vaesen allows players to do something called pushing the roll, although you can only do it once per any given action. You will roll a number of six-sided dice according to a skill + attribute combination, and aim to roll 6’s, which are successes. Pushing the roll allows you to re-roll any dice that did not come up as a 6, thus giving you a second chance - or a chance to be more effective, if you need more than one 6 to do what you want to do.
Since Vaesen is a horror game, however, this push doesn’t come without a cost. Choosing to Push a roll means that your character will have to take on a condition, which is represented as either a Physical or Mental injury or affliction. Take too many in the same category, and your character becomes Broken, thus requiring immediate medical attention. Conditions can be healed and cured, so how deadly your game is depends on how little (or much) rest time your characters have in between encounters.
Genesys, by Edge Studio.
Face down a dragon as a brave knight, hack into a corporate security system as an elite runner, set sail in your airship. Unlimited adventure awaits you in Genesys, a new roleplaying system designed for a variety of settings and limited only by your imagination.
The Genesys experience begins with the Genesys Core Rulebook, which features an explanation of the innovative narrative dice system and core mechanics of the game, an overview of five different settings in which to place campaigns, and advice for Game Masters to craft a myriad of adventures with unparalleled freedom.
So I’d really like to recommend the Star Wars RPG that spearheaded this system, but as far as I understand it’s getting harder and harder to get a hold of. The core system, however, is still available on DriveThruRPG, and I really like how it handles dice rolls. The Genesys system uses a custom set of dice that have three different levels of results: advantage/threat, success/failure, and triumph/despair. These symbols typically cancel each-other out. Both positive and negative dice have a number of different symbols on their faces, and rolling more successes for example, means you’re not going to have less advantages, while rolling a higher number of threats will lead to less failures.
This means that the two most common rolls you will get will be Success with a Threat and Failure with an Advantage. Therefore each roll has both a positive and negative result. If you end up rolling extra-special dice, you might end up with a Triumph and/or a Despair, which happen regardless of any other rolls. So you could have a Failure with an Advantage and a Triumph - which might mean that maybe you don’t unlock that door, but maybe you hear someone coming and duck into a hidey-hole before they show up - and they turn out to be an ally.
Genesys is a toolkit that you can use to make your own game, but if you want a setting to go with it, you might want to check out Realms of Terrinoth (Fantasy), Keyforge: Secrets of the Crucible (gonzo sci-fantasy), or Shadow of the Beanstalk (cyberpunk).
Masks: A New Generation, by Magpie Games.
Halcyon City has had more than its fair share of superheroes, superteams, supervillains, and everything in between. Your team of young supers must forge your own path amidst the pressures of a world full of people telling you what to do and who to be, and kick some butt along the way!
Masks: A New Generation is a superhero tabletop roleplaying game full of action, youthful angst, and dazzling bravery. Take on the roles of members of the latest generation of superheroes, young adults trying to figure out who they are and what kind of heroes they want to be.
MASKS is well-known and for a good reason. It’s an excellent introduction to the PbtA framework, and contains a lot of solid advice for the person who’s running the game. One of the core pieces of advice that you can take from this game to others in the same system-family is that of Soft and Hard moves. When a PC rolls a 6 or less, the ball is in your court, but as the GM, it’s up to you how bad the character fails. Soft and Hard moves are a key part of this.
While a straight-up failure may be needed once in a while, sometimes all you need to do is telegraph danger, and give your players another chance to try a different approach. This is called a Soft Move. You might place the characters in an eerie atmosphere but give them a chance to act, or present them with an NPC asking difficult questions, but give them space to answer. You might not even require them to roll at all - if you think that the hero should be able to do something, they’ll do it.
Finally, since Masks is about teenage superheroes, death isn’t really on the table. What’s at stake is their self-image, and that is reflected in the emotional damage the characters take. This chance to wrestle with why they truly are might even be something welcome for the players to dig into - I know me and my friends sometimes found moments of interpersonal conflict to be the most rewarding.
Endeavour, by Armiger Games.
You are an officer aboard the Interstellar Confederation Ship Endeavour. Your mission is to explore the galaxy. You will travel deep into uncharted space where you will encounter strange phenomena, make first contact with alien civilizations, and help those in need.
This is an optimistic-science fiction game. It is a game about a future in which humanity has progressed beyond the kinds of internecine conflicts that plague modern society. Advanced technology is common and has created a post-scarcity society throughout the Interstellar Confederation.
Stories in Endeavour generally involve some kind of moral quandary. Moreover, the futuristic setting acts as lens through which we can view contemporary social issues. The best such stories are fundamentally about the difficult choices the crew are asked to make and how they are affected by their experiences.
Endeavour is a play-set for AGON, a game about Greek Heroes setting out to make a name for themselves. You need AGON to play, but the rules for both these games take a very unique approach to solving problems.
Almost every conflict present in Endeavour is a collaborative Challenge. This means that any time an obstacle presents itself, the group has a chance to face it as a team. Facing Challenges as a team increases chances of success in two ways: in one way, since each player might be participating, there is a higher chance that one person or another rolls a high enough number to pass the challenge. However, players can also choose to aid each-other, foregoing a chance to gain Distinction but improving another player’s chance at success.
Our Haunt, by Rae Nedjadi.
We are ghosts. We are in a house we don't recognize. We have a handful of memories, and these memories are brief moments and flashes of barely something. The Living are nearby, and they encroach on our space, making their demands. Worse, there is a Thing in the Walls. It is ancient, inhuman. Hungry, yearning. Angry.
But this is Our Haunt now. This is our home, and we only have each other as family. If we take care of each other, good things will happen. We just know it.
Our Haunt uses a diceless system called Belonging Outside Belonging, or No Dice, No Masters. This can be GM-less, but it doesn’t have to be - and I definitely recommend checking other games that use this system if you want to control the level of failure.
BoB games use a token-based economy, where following certain prompts on your character sheet will give your character the ability to use other abilities listed on their character sheet. This creates a rhythm, between moves that invite interesting interactions or complications, and moves that push the story forward, or allow you to do something special.
Each playbook usually also has special moves that the character can do for free, that neither earn nor spend a token.
Because the use of tokens is up to the players, failure will only happen when you decide it happens, and every failure banks a potential success, so even if Our Haunt isn’t what you’re looking for tone-wise, I definitely recommend checking out other Belonging outside Belonging games.
Slugblaster, by Wilkie’s Candy Lab.
In the small town of Hillview, teenage hoverboarders sneak into other dimensions to explore, film tricks, go viral, and get away from the problems at home. It’s dangerous. It’s stupid. It’s got parent groups in a panic. And it’s the coolest thing ever.
This is Slugblaster. A table-top rpg about teenagehood, giant bugs, circuit-bent rayguns, and trying to be cool.
Forged in the Dark games allow you to succeed at least partially on a result of a 4 or higher, so you’re much more likely to succeed with a cost than straight up fail, and even if you do take some kind of consequence, that consequence can always be thrown off by using something called a Resistance Roll. The original system, Blades in the Dark, still felt pretty brutal if you played it as written. However, Mikey Hamm, the designer for Slugblaster, wanted to make a game about teenagers hoverboarding across dimensions, not hardened criminals surviving in a brutal city, so he made some key changes.
Kids in Slugblaster may take “slams”, but no damage is permanent. Staying in another dimension too long may trigger an unpleasant experience called peelback, but it doesn’t kill you, and if you log a bunch of doom (the game’s Stress equivalent), you don’t take a permanent condition - you worry your folks, or have to spend your extra free time doing homework. At its core, Slugblaster’s biggest threat is losing your status - you’re not really in physical danger.
Other Games to Check Out
Wanderhome, by Jay Dragon.
Spectaculars, by Scratchpad Publishing.
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Hello dear angle.
I'm back with an ask that idk if it's wierd or not.
Actaully I'm trying to start a fanfic about a civilizade xenomorph society and I'm turing everthing I like to these cute little parasites. So… I wanted to ask what do you think about an android Desmond with his three white xenomorph ancestors?
I've read several comics and novels of alien and what I discovered was that xenomorphs were created to be a biological weapon. So I was thinking what if Desmond android was created by abstergo to controll the xenemorphs.
He is like a queen to them because of the DNA they share.
In this au the assassin-templair war is not still over. And even in the sky they are trying to take cotroll over the galaxy.
What if Desmond works in one of abstergo's labs. Until he saw a xenomorph for the first time in his life. It was pure white with a strange looking mark on its forhead. Some thing about this mark was familiar to him which he didn't know why.
The first time he saw it he felt a strong bond between them. He felt so safe around that monster. It felt like family. Like home. He put his hand on the glass.
The creature came closer with curiosity and placed its hand where was desmond's. And suddenly something flashed before Desmond's eyes. A face. A man with white cloak that was standing there and staring at him in a kind smile. And then he was in the lab again. He stared at the monster and smiled. "Ezio. So it's your name."
I will leave it from here for you. I belive in you. You can turn this to a movie that worths watching. And mabey it's ezides? I love ezides fanfics and i don't know why. They're kinda apposite but still cute. Your blog is wonderful 🤩
(Thank you! While I cannot promise I can make this a movie worth watching, I will do my best to make this something monster fuckers would at the very least be curious about XD)
It’s not weird. I mean, I’m fine with weird ideas XD
Also, Alien is one of my favorite horror movies.
For this one, what if we just throw away Alien/Prometheus canon and spin this into another AU (mainly because this gives us an excuse to not use the canon explanation of white xenomorphs and the proto xenomorphs.
For this one, let’s set up Abstergo as being sorta in a decline after humanity decided to live among the stars. While they had been focused on profiting and trying to eradicate the Brotherhood, Weyland-Yutani slips pass them and became the juggernaut corporation that more or less controlled human settlements.
DESMOND was meant to be the prototype of an android line that should have exceeded everything Weyland-Yutani approved androids could.
But there were a bit of problem with DESMOND. For one, he appeared too cold, less expressive than the cheapest android and has a hard time understanding orders.
It was a failure.
So Abstergo had to pivot and create a new product. They manage to get samples of Weyland-Yutani’s ‘prized’ secret project and a basic ‘overview’ of what it’s meant to be.
Unfortunately, the samples didn’t have enough genetic information to complete their version and they thought, “Hey, you know what we have? The DNA sample of some dude that died during the 21st century! That might work!”
In their defense, the lead of the project, Dr. Vidic (relation to the late Warren Vidic is unknown), believed in this ‘rumor’ that Sample 17 is the golden ticket to Abstergo’s success. It was the key to the success of the Animus Project. Why not this project as well?
If the human DNA is unusable for this project, Sample 17’s Isu DNA might be what they needed.
For this one, they made three Prototypes to use for different ‘experiments’.
They were called Zero-One, Zero-Two and Zero-Three.
Zero-One is taken to the deepest part of the space station to be experimented on.
Zero-Two is kept in one of the more secured floors to be observed with limited ‘contact’.
Zero-Three is kept on stasis while Zero-One and Zero-Two are being ‘observed’. Once the observation period is over, Zero-Three will be eliminated and dissected to gather more data using what data they gathered from Zero-One and Zero-Two.
DESMOND has been turned into a messenger android, delivering devices and other items and acting similar to someone who takes picture of the person who took a package.
It was one of the few things it could do without having to be supervised the entire time.
It is during one of its delivery to Dr. Vidic that it sees Zero-Two.
There was something about Zero-Two that makes it feel something.
Makes him feel something.
Their first meeting ends with him calling Zero-Two ‘Ezio’.
His Ezio.
DESMOND starts visiting him whenever he has the chance.
And Abstergo sees this all.
Hard not to considering the floor Ezio is in is covered in surveillance tech.
Dr. Vidic thinks this is a good thing.
DESMOND can communicate with Zero-Two. With enough time, DESMOND can be used to control Zero-Two.
No.
Control an army of them.
So he takes DESMOND under his wing and starts to supervise the meetings.
The tried and true method of carrot-and-stick.
With DESMOND being the carrot.
During that time, the team in charge of experimenting of Zero-One fuck up big time.
Maybe they didn’t take in consideration the idea that Zero-One would use its acid blood to destroy its cage.
Maybe they underestimated Zero-One’s intellect and it manages to get them to open the cage by pretending to be sick or dead.
Whatever the reason will be, the end result is the same.
Zero-One kills the team that has been experimenting on it and starts to hunt down everyone in the Space Station.
During this time, Dr Vidic gets the idea of hunting Zero-One using Zero-Two.
And he does it by having DESMOND become bait because he knows Zero-Two will protect DESMOND.
He didn’t take in consideration that DESMOND’s connection might not be exclusive to Zero-Two alone.
So when DESMOND sees Zero-One, he sees him about to kill another Abstergo personnel.
The personnel begged for help but DESMOND simply stood there.
Dr. Vidic thought (as he watched the feeds from a drone) that DESMOND is doing as ordered, to find Zero-One and to place himself in danger until Zero-Two gets to his position (Zero-Two has been fashioned with a device that would push a strong sedative inside him in a push of a button, deliberately placed in a part of his body that he cannot use his acid blood to dissolve it)
Zero-One kills the personnel and starts moving to DESMOND’s position on all fours. A predator slowly making its way to its next kill.
That’s when Dr. Vidic sees DESMOND take a step towards Zero-One and reach a hand.
Without any mirror, DESMOND touches Zero-One as he says, “Altaïr?”
“You want to kill them all? Okay.”
“… We can do that.”
.
Unorganized Notes:
They take Ratonhnhaké:ton out of stasis during Altaïr’s rampage and DESMOND stays with him because he hasn’t gotten used to moving yet and is the most vulnerable of the three.
Considering it’s me, I would suggest we just turn this into all three main couples (AltDes, EziDes, ConDes) for triple the ‘fun’.
They feel a connection to DESMOND because he is created to be a complete copy of Sample 17 with an android body. Technically, his ‘genetics’ is more or less in that ‘white fuel’ he creates himself and a bunch of 1s and 0s makes up Sample 17’s entire DNA.
In a more… ‘strange’ level, they feel a connection to DESMOND and DESMOND feels a connection with them because they’re the closest species to one another. Both created from Sample 17.
If you want smut in this one, well, they see DESMOND as their Queen and they have the instinct to mate with their Queen because Sample 17’s genetic code had a hardwired ‘order’ of needing to reproduce sexually. (to create Desmond Miles but the order is still there). Otherwise, they feel the need to protect DESMOND and to satisfy his every desire.
The xenomorphs take one more and more characteristics of the ‘target’ ancestor in terms of personality and habits. On the flipside, DESMOND starts acting more… ‘selfish’ the longer he stays with the three.
This would end with the space station succumbing to the xenomorphs but Dr. Vidic manages to send out an SOS before he dies.
This is the part where we can focus on developing DESMOND’s relationship with the xenomorphs (insert smut here if you want).
Then… an Abstergo rescue ship is pinged on the radar and… more cannon fodders as well as the possibility of finally leaving the space station.
The twist is there’s an Assassin aboard the rescue ship and this Assassin would get in contact with DESMOND and realize who he is based on because the Brotherhood never forgot Desmond Miles. (this gives us the chance to make this either (1) DESMOND and the xenomorphs joining the Brotherhood for a sorta morally gray good guys scenario or (2) they kill the Assassin and go on full on corrupted “the world against us” setup)
#xenomorph and android au#no usual tags because#altdes#ezides#condes#teecup writes/has a plot#fic idea: assassin's creed#ask and answer#i swear i did a xenomorph desmond ask before#but i can't seem to find it TTATT
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OPERATION ICEBERG: THE TIER LIST
THEORY:
Curtain of Light
TIER:
Fanfiction: These "theories" are nothing short of delusional fan-crafted fantasies, embarrassingly disconnected from any shred of textual reality.
[Tier list overview]
EVIDENCE:
Oh boy!
First, let's outline the theory.
Please note, like any other fan theory, there are always minor differences of opinion. So, we'll cover the basics that most people seem to agree on.
Daenerys, Jon, and Tyrion are the three heads of the dragon.
To defeat the Others, they will each mount a dragon and travel as far north as possible, beyond a curtain of light, where they will encounter a Lovecraftian, apocalyptic dimension filled with all kinds of monsters.
While they are beyond this curtain of light, they will engage in life-affirming activities in the face of death. Some believe this could manifest as Tyrion learning to love himself, childbirth, or a sexual encounter between Jon and Daenerys.
They will then sacrifice themselves and their dragons to defeat the Others. Presumably, much will go up in flames.
Apparently, this epitomizes the theme of the human heart in conflict with itself and will serve as the conclusion of the story.
Now, for the evidence...
Oops, there isn't any.
If you've ever had the privilege of reading someone discuss this theory, you'll have noticed a glaring lack of textual support. Nevertheless, I'll do my best to piece together a coherent argument for why this could happen.
(Honestly, I'm a bit bitter that I'm putting in more effort to prove this theory than anyone else has.)
What does it mean when something is Lovecraftian?
To borrow from dictionary.com, 'Lovecraftian' pertains to elements reminiscent of the works of fantasy and horror writer H.P. Lovecraft, especially those that depict monstrous, misshapen beings from other dimensions or universes.
George R. R. Martin, a fan of literature, incorporates numerous Lovecraftian references in his A Song of Ice and Fire series and its associated works.
Examples include:
Leng (Island): Inspired by Lovecraft's Plateau of Leng.
Sarnath (City): Likely inspired by the city of Sarnath in Lovecraft's "The Doom that Came to Sarnath."
Ib (Island/Civilization): Possibly a nod to Ib from "The Doom that Came to Sarnath."
K'dath in the Grey Waste: Inspired by Lovecraft's Kadath in the Cold Waste.
Church/Cult of Starry Wisdom: A probable reference to the same cult in Lovecraft's "The Haunter of the Dark."
Deep Ones: Likely inspired by the aquatic creatures in Lovecraft's "The Shadow over Innsmouth."
"What's dead may never die": Possibly inspired by Lovecraft's phrase "That is not dead which can eternal lie / And with strange eons even death may die."
The Drowned God: Possibly a nod to Lovecraft's Cthulhu.
Dagon: An Ironborn-associated name, also an ancient being in Lovecraft's lore.
The Black Goat of Qohor: Possibly a reference to Lovecraft's Shub-Niggurath, the "Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young."
N'Ghai and Nefer: Likely inspired by Lovecraft's N'Kai, an underground realm associated with Tsathoggua.
Are you noticing a pattern? These nods to Lovecraft are mostly found in peripheral settings, with minor association to the Ironborn. George tends to make a lot of references to all kinds of literature in a similar fashion.
I'd hesitate to jump to the conclusion that this implies the existence of a parallel universe with otherworldly monsters, accessible via a portal in the far north. But since this is appearing in the evidence section, I guess we'll do that anyway.
Moving on.
The words "curtain of light" appear in a Bran chapter. One time. In only this chapter.
Finally he looked north. He saw the Wall shining like blue crystal, and his bastard brother Jon sleeping alone in a cold bed, his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him. And he looked past the Wall, past endless forests cloaked in snow, past the frozen shore and the great blue-white rivers of ice and the dead plains where nothing grew or lived. North and north and north he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain. He looked deep into the heart of winter, and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks.
Now you know, the crow whispered as it sat on his shoulder. Now you know why you must live. - Bran III, AGOT
Melisandre also references curtains, though they are clearly different curtains than Bran's curtains. Whatever, it's fine.
Shadows in the shape of skulls, skulls that turned to mist, bodies locked together in lust, writhing and rolling and clawing. Through curtains of fire great winged shadows wheeled against a hard blue sky. - Melisandre I, ADWD
x
The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain. Now he was a man, now a wolf, now a man again. - Melisandre I, ADWD
There is a place called the Land of Always Winter. It's like the Arctic.
The icy trenches rose around them, knee high, then waist high, then higher than their heads. They were in the heart of Winterfell with the castle all around them, but no sign of it could be seen. They might have easily been lost amidst the Land of Always Winter, a thousand leagues beyond the Wall. - Theon I, ADWD
x
Yet no matter the truths of their arts, the children were led by their greenseers, and there is no doubt that they could once be found from the Lands of Always Winter to the shores of the Summer Sea. - The World of Ice and Fire—Ancient History: The Dawn Age
x
What is commonly accepted is that the Age of Heroes began with the Pact and extended through the thousands of years in which the First Men and the children lived in peace with one another. With so much land ceded to them, the First Men at last had room to increase. From the Land of Always Winter to the shores of the Summer Sea, the First Men ruled from their ringforts. - The World of Ice and Fire—Ancient History: The Age of Heroes
The Others are believed to originate from the Land of Always Winter, where, according to legend, you can also find spooky ice spiders.
However, I should mention, a detail that might be easily missed in the books is that they are currently at Hardhome and continue to press south towards the Wall.
Yet there are other tales—harder to credit and yet more central to the old histories—about creatures known as the Others. According to these tales, they came from the frozen Land of Always Winter, bringing the cold and darkness with them as they sought to extinguish all light and warmth. The tales go on to say they rode monstrous ice spiders and the horses of the dead, resurrected to serve them, just as they resurrected dead men to fight on their behalf. - The World of Ice and Fire—Ancient History: The Long Night
In 2012, George confirmed that future books would explore further and further north. No shit, you don't say. I wonder if Bran's journey through history, where we learn more about the origins of the Others, has anything to do with that.
"And what lies really north in my books—we haven't explored that yet, but we will in the last two books." - George R. R. Martin
Bran uses the common metaphor "the heart of _____ (winter)" in the same passage that the curtain of light appears. Later, in another book, Daenerys enters the House of the Undying, where she encounters blue figures reminiscent of the Others. There, she finds a literal blue heart that appears to be their life force. Drogon eats it. Together, these things might suggest that there is a literal blue heart beyond a portal that needs to be set on fire to defeat the Others.
Also, another time, Theon stands in the middle of Winterfell and uses the same "the heart of" metaphor (common phrase found throughout the series). Shortly after, he references the Land of Always Winter, so I thought I would throw it in to be generous.
He looked deep into the heart of winter, and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks. - Bran III, AGOT
x
They were in the heart of Winterfell with the castle all around them, but no sign of it could be seen. They might have easily been lost amidst the Land of Always Winter, a thousand leagues beyond the Wall. - Theon I, ADWD
x
A long stone table filled this room. Above it floated a human heart, swollen and blue with corruption, yet still alive. It beat, a deep ponderous throb of sound, and each pulse sent out a wash of indigo light. The figures around the table were no more than blue shadows. As Dany walked to the empty chair at the foot of the table, they did not stir, nor speak, nor turn to face her. There was no sound but the slow, deep beat of the rotting heart.
[...]
Through the indigo murk, she could make out the wizened features of the Undying One to her right, an old old man, wrinkled and hairless. His flesh was a ripe violet-blue, his lips and nails bluer still, so dark they were almost black. Even the whites of his eyes were blue. They stared unseeing at the ancient woman on the opposite side of the table, whose gown of pale silk had rotted on her body. One withered breast was left bare in the Qartheen manner, to show a pointed blue nipple hard as leather.
She is not breathing. Dany listened to the silence. None of them are breathing, and they do not move, and those eyes see nothing. Could it be that the Undying Ones were dead?
[...]
Then indigo turned to orange, and whispers turned to screams. Her heart was pounding, racing, the hands and mouths were gone, heat washed over her skin, and Dany blinked at a sudden glare. Perched above her, the dragon spread his wings and tore at the terrible dark heart, ripping the rotten flesh to ribbons, and when his head snapped forward, fire flew from his open jaws, bright and hot. - Daenerys IV, ACOK
x
Only its eyes lived. Bright blue, just as Jon said. They shone like frozen stars.
[...]
When he opened his eyes the Other's armor was running down its legs in rivulets as pale blue blood hissed and steamed around the black dragonglass dagger in its throat. - Samwell I, ASOS
If you cherry-pick through the text and remove all context, you might be able to piece together a few sentences suggesting that life and love will defeat the Others and that a great self-sacrifice is imminent.
The man looked over at the woman. "The things I do for love," he said with loathing. - Bran II, AGOT
x
We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy. - Jon VIII, AGOT
x
"Sansa, permit me to share a bit of womanly wisdom with you on this very special day. Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same." - Sansa IV, ACOK
x
"You're mine," she whispered. "Mine, as I'm yours. And if we die, we die. All men must die, Jon Snow. But first we'll live." - Jon V, ASOS
x
Someone threw a stone, and when Dany looked, her shoulder was torn and bloody. "No," she wept, "no, please, stop it, it's too high, the price is too high." More stones came flying. - Daenerys VIII, AGOT
x
"You are a boy of fourteen," Benjen said. "Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up."
"I don't care about that!" Jon said hotly.
"You might, if you knew what it meant," Benjen said. "If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son." - Jon I, AGOT
Daenerys is convinced that there will be three heads of the dragon, and let me tell you, that girl's expectations are always fulfilled.
"If you were grown," she told Drogon, scratching him between the horns, "I'd fly you over the walls and melt that harpy down to slag." But it would be years before her dragons were large enough to ride. And when they are, who shall ride them? The dragon has three heads, but I have only one. She thought of Daario. If ever there was a man who could rape a woman with his eyes . . . - Daenerys V, ASOS
If the author leads you to believe that something will happen, it must be true.
Lastly, I should mention that there are vague references suggesting that George has written other stories with events and themes similar to this proposed ending. However, I can't verify these claims, and unsurprisingly, the works in question are never cited.
Well, that was it.
Say what you will about the "Daario is Euron" theorists, but at least they attempt to back up their crazy idea with actual text from the books.
COUNTER-EVIDENCE:
To put it bluntly, this theory has no basis—no textual support, no historical parallels, no evidence in the companion books, no prophetic visions, no dreams, no myths, no legends, no similarities to the television show, and no foreshadowing to speak of. It is entirely made up, with only a few words from the text as its foundation.
Does that sound like George R. R. Martin to you?
That said, now that I’ve realized his three-fold revelation strategy, I see it in play almost every time. The first, subtle hint for the really astute readers, followed later by the more blatant hint for the less attentive, followed by just spelling it out for everyone else. It’s a brilliant strategy, and highly effective. - Anne Groell, George R. R. Martin's editor
A Song of Ice and Fire is about the people of Westeros putting aside their petty differences and uniting against two existential threats: ice, represented by the Others, and fire, represented by Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons. It's not a story about fire defeating ice.
Well, of course, the two outlying ones — the things going on north of the Wall, and then there is Targaryen on the other continent with her dragons — are of course the ice and fire of the title, "A Song of Ice and Fire." The central stuff — the stuff that's happening in the middle, in King's Landing, the capital of the seven kingdoms — is much more based on historical events, historical fiction. It's loosely drawn from the Wars of the Roses and some of the other conflicts around the 100 Years' War, although, of course, with a fantasy twist. You know, one of the dynamics I started with, there was the sense of people being so consumed by their petty struggles for power within the seven kingdoms, within King's Landing — who's going to be king? Who's going to be on the Small Council? Who's going to determine the policies? — that they're blind to the much greater and more dangerous threats that are happening far away on the periphery of their kingdoms. - George R. R. Martin
x
Ice and fire of course are also opposites, they're a duality and there's a lot in my books that are about duality. Certainly the religion of Melisandre, one of the most important characters, I think is basically a dualist religion with the premise that there are two gods. It's somewhat based on Zoroastrianism, and a little bit based on Catharism, Albigenses heresy who I know had some roots here in Spain once upon a time, before they were all killed. The idea of a world divided between good and evil, war between the two, which is so basic to so many fantasy starting with Tolkien, but much more so in the case of Tolkien imitators, was something that I wanted to recast and think about and maybe subvert a little. But I'm still using kind of the language of it, and some of the symbols associated with it. So all of these are grist for the mill, it's not something as simple as saying ice is this and fire is that. They're both many things. And one of the most important things is that both of them, ice and fire will kill you dead. So they're both dangerous in their own ways, hate, love, desire, coldness, they can both be deadly. - George R. R. Martin
x
While the lion of Lannister and the direwolf of Stark snarl and scrap, however, a second and greater threat takes shape across the narrow sea, where the Dothraki horselords mass their barbarian hordes for a great invasion of the Seven Kingdoms, led by the fierce and beautiful Daenerys Stormborn, the last of the Targaryen dragonlords. The Dothraki invasion will be the central story of my second volume, A Dance with Dragons.
The greatest danger of all, however, comes from the north, from the icy wastes beyond the Wall, where half-forgotten demons out of legend, the inhuman others, raise cold legions of the undead and the neverborn and prepare to ride down on the winds of winter to extinguish everything that we would call "life." - The Original Outline
x
I have tried to make it explicit in the novels that the dragons are destructive forces, and Dany (Daenerys Targaryen) has found that out as she tried to rule the city of Meereen and be queen there.
She has the power to destroy, she can wipe out entire cities, and we certainly see that in 'Fire and Blood,' we see the dragons wiping out entire armies, wiping out towns and cities, destroying them, but that doesn't necessarily enable you to rule — it just enables you to destroy. - George R. R. Martin
In the established lore of A Song of Ice and Fire, dragons can't cross the Wall and dislike cold and wet weather. How exactly will they get to this Lovecraftian Land of Always Winter, and how will they be of any use in that climate?
The men of the Night's Watch were as thunderstruck by the queen's dragon as the people of White Harbor had been, though the queen herself noted that Silverwing "does not like this Wall." Though it was summer and the Wall was weeping, the chill of the ice could still be felt whenever the wind blew, and every gust would make the dragon hiss and snap. "Thrice I flew Silverwing high above Castle Black, and thrice I tried to take her north beyond the Wall," Alysanne wrote to Jaehaerys, "but every time she veered back south again and refused to go. Never before has she refused to take me where I wished to go. I laughed about it when I came down again, so the black brothers would not realize anything was amiss, but it troubled me then and it troubles me still." - Fire & Blood: Jaehaerys and Alysanne—Their Triumphs and Tragedies
x
Autumn was well advanced when the Prince of Dragonstone came to Winterfell. The snows lay deep upon the ground, a cold wind was howling from the north, and Lord Stark was in the midst of his preparations for the coming winter, yet he gave Jacaerys a warm welcome. Snow and ice and cold made Vermax ill-tempered, it is said, so the prince did not linger long amongst the northmen, but many a curious tale came out of that short sojourn. - Fire & Blood: the Dying of the Dragons—A Son for a Son
x
The big man looked out toward the terrace. "I knew it would rain," he said in a gloomy tone. "My bones were aching last night. They always ache before it rains. The dragons won't like this. Fire and water don't mix, and that's a fact. You get a good cookfire lit, blazing away nice, then it starts to piss down rain and next thing your wood is sodden and your flames are dead." - The Dragontamer, ADWD
x
He saw no sign of dragons, but he had not expected to. The dragons did not like the rain. - The Queen's Hand, ADWD
x
(bonus, for laughs:)
"The things…Mother have mercy, I do not know how to speak of them…they were…worms with faces…snakes with hands…twisting, slimy, unspeakable things that seemed to writhe and pulse and squirm as they came bursting from her [Aerea Targaryen] flesh. Some were no bigger than my little finger, but one at least was as long as my arm…oh, Warrior protect me, the sounds they made…"
"They died, though. I must remember that, cling to that. Whatever they might have been, they were creatures of heat and fire, and they did not love the ice, oh no. One after another they thrashed and writhed and died before my eyes, thank the Seven. I will not presume to give them names…they were horrors." - Fire & Blood: Jaehaerys and Alysanne—Their Triumphs and Tragedies
House Targaryen and their dragons played no role in the previous Long Night.
How the Long Night came to an end is a matter of legend, as all such matters of the distant past have become. In the North, they tell of a last hero who sought out the intercession of the children of the forest, his companions abandoning him or dying one by one as they faced ravenous giants, cold servants, and the Others themselves. Alone he finally reached the children, despite the efforts of the white walkers, and all the tales agree this was a turning point. Thanks to the children, the first men of the Night's Watch banded together and were able to fight—and win—the Battle for the Dawn: the last battle that broke the endless winter and sent the Others fleeing to the icy north. Now, six thousand years later (or eight thousand as True History puts forward), the Wall made to defend the realms of men is still manned by the sworn brothers of the Night's Watch, and neither the Others nor the children have been seen in many centuries. - The World of Ice and Fire—Ancient History: The Long Night
x
The Targaryens were of pure Valyrian blood, dragonlords of ancient lineage. Twelve years before the Doom of Valyria (114 BC), Aenar Targaryen sold his holdings in the Freehold and the Lands of the Long Summer and moved with all his wives, wealth, slaves, dragons, siblings, kin, and children to Dragonstone, a bleak island citadel beneath a smoking mountain in the narrow sea. - The World of Ice and Fire—The Reign of the Dragons: The Conquest
Bran's curtain of light is simply a reference to the aurora borealis. For the love of christ, it's not a portal to another dimension.
North and north and north he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain. - Bran III, AGOT
x
Sailors, by nature a gullible and superstitious lot, as fond of their fancies as singers, tell many tales of these frigid northern waters. They speak of queer lights shimmering in the sky, where the demon mother of the ice giants dances eternally through the night, seeking to lure men northward to their doom. - The World of Ice and Fire—Beyond the Free Cities: The Shivering Sea
Speaking of Bran, why isn't he central to this theory? Didn't that sentence appear in his chapter? What is Arya up to? Where is Sansa? Why are the Starks, who are the central characters of this series, taking a backseat in their own conflict, which is unfolding in their own backyard?
(Not to mention the Night's Watch, the wildlings, the northerners, and the children of the forest—you know, the people who are actually integral to this storyline.)
Yeah, the children were always at the heart of this. The Stark children, in particular, were always very central. Bran is the first viewpoint character that we meet, and then we meet Jon and Sansa and Arya and the rest of them. It was always my intention to do that. - George R. R. Martin
x
Whenever I propose analogies like that, fans jump in with their own ideas, but it depends on what team you root for. To me, the Starks are heroes, so they would be the Giants. - George R. R. Martin
It's going to be a pact facilitated by Bran.
What is commonly accepted is that the Age of Heroes began with the Pact and extended through the thousands of years in which the First Men and the children lived in peace with one another. - The World of Ice and Fire—Ancient History: The Age of Heroes
x
Regardless, the children of the forest fought as fiercely as the First Men to defend their lives. Inexorably, the war ground on across generations, until at last the children understood that they could not win. The First Men, perhaps tired of war, also wished to see an end to the fighting. The wisest of both races prevailed, and the chief heroes and rulers of both sides met upon the isle in the Gods Eye to form the Pact. - The World of Ice and Fire—Ancient History: The Coming of First Men
x
According to these tales, the return of the sun came only when a hero convinced Mother Rhoyne's many children—lesser gods such as the Crab King and the Old Man of the River—to put aside their bickering and join together to sing a secret song that brought back the day. - The World of Ice and Fire—Ancient History: The Long Night
x
How the Long Night came to an end is a matter of legend, as all such matters of the distant past have become. In the North, they tell of a last hero who sought out the intercession of the children of the forest, his companions abandoning him or dying one by one as they faced ravenous giants, cold servants, and the Others themselves. Alone he finally reached the children, despite the efforts of the white walkers, and all the tales agree this was a turning point. Thanks to the children, the first men of the Night's Watch banded together and were able to fight—and win—the Battle for the Dawn: the last battle that broke the endless winter and sent the Others fleeing to the icy north. - The World of Ice and Fire—Ancient History: The Long Night
Tyrion Lannister is not a Targaryen; he is not one of the three heads of the dragon. He is the malevolent, vindictive son of Tywin Lannister. He rapes women, he kills women, he marries child hostages to acquire their castles, he will be complicit in the death of potentially hundreds of thousands of people, and he isn't getting anything remotely resembling a heroic ending.
Jaime kissed her cheek. "He left a son."
"Aye, he did. That is what I fear the most, in truth."
That was a queer remark. "Why should you fear?"
"Jaime," she said, tugging on his ear, "sweetling, I have known you since you were a babe at Joanna's breast. You smile like Gerion and fight like Tyg, and there's some of Kevan in you, else you would not wear that cloak . . . but Tyrion is Tywin's son, not you. I said so once to your father's face, and he would not speak to me for half a year. Men are such thundering great fools. Even the sort who come along once in a thousand years." - Jaime V, AFFC
Daenerys and her dragons represent one of the two principal threats in the narrative. Azor Ahai is a misinterpreted prophecy that is intended as a warning, not as the foretelling of a hero.
Since the first book, her sole objective has been to rule foreign lands seized through force. She exploits slaves, consistently engages in brutal acts of violence, and leaves devastation wherever she sets foot. She will intentionally burn King's Landing to the ground, and then she'll be stabbed to death.
No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.
"Fire and Blood," Daenerys told the swaying grass. - Daenerys X, ADWD
The idea that Daenerys, Jon, and Tyrion will love themselves or each other, either physically or emotionally, and then collectively sacrifice themselves, is the dumbest climax anyone has ever conceived. You forfeit the right to ever complain about the show if this is what you thought should happen.
Finally, please remember that, by default, the original creators of this theory are always wrong about everything.
STUMPY'S THOUGHTS:
You might be asking yourselves, "How do we distinguish between joke and fanfiction theories?"
I'll tell you. Both are equally absurd, but the fanfiction tier has the unique quality of making you feel like you're reading a story written by a fanfic writer who's in denial about their aspirations to write fanfic.
VOTE:
I welcome discussions. Feel free to reblog, respond, or challenge my perspective—I won't be offended by any of it.
Please note, if "no" is the eventual winner, or if it's competitive, a second poll will be conducted to determine the proper location.*
*won't be necessary for this theory.
NEXT THEORY:
Varys has Tyrek Lannister
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We May Have Gaslit Gatekept Girlbossed A Little Too Close To The Sun
You know why you shouldn't work late nights at an office job? Because you might become the new obsession for something in the shadows that shouldn't exist in the human realm. Unless you're into that kind of thing, of course.
Serena, unfortunately, wasn't.
--
AO3 Link
(This fic is broken up in 6 chapters on AO3 which may be easier to read for some! I was not going to spend an hour posting and tagging each part here on Tumblr lmao)
WE'RE BACK BABY!!!
Guess who got her little monsterfucker heart broken by an indie horror game and decided to write an obscenely long fix-it fic in under a week agaaaaaain (<- it was me)
Anyways, The Lancaster Leak Episode 2: Crisis At Call Center is very good and I encourage everyone to check out their series (: So hyped for Episode 3 lads they really stepped up their game compared to the first one!!!
Heavily, HEAVILY inspired by the storyline in Crisis At Call Center -- like almost beat for beat. I need to emphasis that this concept is only half original content and a majority of the plot is taken from the game, I claim no originality for that.
The formatting for the bolded note sections may be formatted kinda funky between Tumblr and AO3. Ain't much I can do about that chief it looks good on Google Docs /:
General warnings for gore and death and whatever you already know what I write
Word Count: 36K
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FEDERAL WARNING
The following tape is to be viewed only by Abnormality Breach & Containment (ABC) employees with a clearance level of three (3) or higher under supervision.
Unauthorized duplication - including, but not limited to: video, audio, audio transcripts, still images - and distribution is strictly prohibited and offenders will be prosecuted. Agents caught tampering, destroying, or editing tape will be immediately terminated.
BY PROCEEDING, VIEWER HAS ACKNOWLEDGED RESPONSIBILITY
–
CS# 1763-87 - ABNORMALITY AB299
Abnormality Behavioral Observation
Date Range: [N/A]
Observation Status: COMPLETED
Abnormality Status: CONTAINED
–
ABNORMALITY DEBRIEF
Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of darkened corner. No discernable shapes can be made by human eye. Abnormality only visible as two contrasting dots in upper-right corner – These are Abnormality’s eyes.]
FN# AB299
Threat Level: D
Containment Capability: Low
Management Capability: Extremely Low
Intelligence Capability: Mid-High
–
AB299 OVERVIEW
Abnormality first sighted three months before successful containment. Abnormality has breached the facility a total of seven (7) times during captivity as of this recording.
Abnormality is of great stature at approx. ten (10) times the size of an average human male.
Abnormality walks crouched on all four limbs. Abnormality’s pitch black coloring allows it to blend in shadows aside from red-ringed yellow eyes.
Abnormality is seemingly able to manipulate technologic frequencies and dimensional planes. The latter is believed to be how Abnormality travels unnoticed despite large build.
Abnormality is able to interfere with the following technologies [as of this recording]:
Video Feeds
Computer Software [All Access]
Phone Lines
Note: AB299 unconfirmed to have abilities related to manipulation of localized power sources.
Note: Technological interference documented to be rudimentary and overall harmless.
Abnormality only sighted outside of the facility when actively on a hunt. DO NOT ENGAGE DURING THIS TIME PERIOD.
–
THE FOLLOWING OBSERVATION TAKES PLACE ONE (1) WEEK AFTER ABNORMALITY’S SEVENTH (7TH) TOTAL CONTAINMENT BREACH.
CS# 1763-87 STUDIES NEW BEHAVIORS NOTED OVER A SIX (6) DAY SPAN.
–
Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of interior shipping office at WerTech Production Headquarters taken from Camera 17]
Location: WerTech Production Headquarters
Note: It is believed Abnormality chose this location to hunt due to wide corridors and tall ceilings, in addition to spacious attached warehouse and storerooms.
ABC tracked Abnormality to site but did not engage in recapture protocol. Attempts at containment during active hunting are ill-advised with a fatality rate of 92%. Highest success rate of recapture achieved immediately after hunting period.
Under Clearance 3 supervision, ABC agents were permitted to observe Abnormality’s behavior in an uninhibited environment for research purposes.
ABC implemented the following observation protocol:
Phone Line Wire-tap
Computer Access [All Levels]
CCTV Access
Electronic Recording
Call Redirection
No WerTech employees were notified of enrollment.
–
Picture Left [ID - A young woman of African-American descent. She has dark brown eyes and black hair. She is smiling. Image taken from employee database.]
SERENA BOYD
Serena Boyd (26) was a college student employed at WerTech Production Headquarters as an intern for course credits. She primarily worked night shifts and completed after hour duties for additional time signed off.
Abnormality seemingly selected her as prey, likely due to late hour solitude.
The following footage and accompanying notes document the unusual correspondence captured between Boyd and Abnormality. Updated overview for AB299 will be provided at the end of observation recordings. Future research of new and/or atypical behavior necessary and pending.
–
BEGIN ABNORMALITY BEHAVIOR OBSERVATION
First Day
–
Filing was not a difficult task. All that needed to be done was to stack the packets in descending order of completion date, or alphabetically by vendor name, or even separated with color coded labels to differentiate job types. The point was that it should not be this goddamn hard to keep files in any semblance of order for longer than a week, Gregory.
Whatever. As much as it was the bane of her existence to have to repeatedly move order receipts from the Zuckermann account out of the filing drawer clearly labeled for names starting with ‘E-H’, it at least killed a full hour of Serena’s time with minimal effort. Besides, she quite liked the freedom that came with being in a near empty office past closing time while finishing up her menial tasks. She could hum, she could bitch, she could coyly look at her manager’s family photos and wonder just how good his salary must be to keep a wife that pretty smiling in every shot.
One more week, Serena reminded herself with a sigh. One more week of unpaid overtime and she should have just enough hours completed for her internship. An internship that she accepted under the impression that she would, of course, be learning more about machine operations and less about how to draft an invoice that was outside of her job description. That was kind of the whole purpose of getting an extended degree with a trade concentration – to actually learn the trade. But it was her second to last course needed before she could graduate and…well, on her resume it would still say she completed her full hours at WerTech, it just wouldn’t elaborate that she managed to get absolutely zero experience in the ten weeks she was there.
It still counted as being fully certified though, right?
Oh well, she could learn all the useful tips and tricks on the job, the real job she’ll be qualified for by the end of the semester. A job that actually put to use all her months and years of studying and testing and cramming rather than wasting her efforts on clerical duties. Serena couldn’t help but wonder if her age or gender or race or some culmination was the reason why her manager insisted she work anywhere but the operations department. Then again, as demonstrated by the fact that Gregory thought an unsigned six-month contract was a great coaster for his coffee, it was more likely the fault of general incompetence. Good thing he was the one with the yearly bonuses and shiny title placard on his door.
She felt her back crack when she rolled her shoulders a few times, groaning at the stiffness from being hunched over for so long. Corporate America: destroying spirits and posture one 9-5 at a time. Or 9-8, in Serena’s case, though that was a choice of her own doing. The more hours she packed on, the sooner she could be signed off.
Speaking of signing off, she went ahead and mosied back to the cluster of cubicles down the hall from the managerial row. The common people, separated from their superiors with distance and private closed doors, with rows of desks jammed into neighboring spaces and flimsy walls to divide the departments. A place Serena wouldn’t wish for any damned soul to spend a moment of eternity in, especially her own, as it was just on the opposite end of the building where the computer hardware manufacturing was done. So close, yet so far away.
Instead, all she could do was drop into her hand-me-down chair that had about two decades of strange stains on the fabric and wake her desktop from sleep mode. A quick refresh of her email showed Gregory sent her a new message thirty minutes prior, which unfortunately meant she was obliged to check and carry out whatever his request was. Saying that she hadn’t seen it in time before she left would imply she had left earlier than she really had, cutting a full half hour from her overtime that he’d be approving on her weekly log.
That was time wasted she refused to give up.
–
[Email Transcript]
Sender: Gregory Jules
Recipient: Serena Boyd
Subject: Trash Run
Hey Serena,
Hate to be a bother, but can you do me a favor before you head out? There’s a cart out in Warehouse B with a few boxes of damaged motherboards the guys forgot to throw away. Can you pitch those in the dumpster so that we don’t miss the morning trash truck?
You rock!
Gregory Jules
–
“And this can’t be done by the first shift crew because…?” she mumbled with a roll of her eyes. Fine, fine, she could toss a few boxes of crap out back, it wasn’t like it was a job involving backbreaking labor and grueling hours to complete. She may not be thrilled about it, but maybe if she dawdles out there long enough she can squeeze an extra twenty or so minutes for her hourly log.
Double checking that she had her keycard in her pocket, she punched in the door code for the warehouse and pushed through one of the massive doors with a small grunt. Okay, as eager as she was to get her hands on a couple soldering tools, she couldn’t deny that the amount of manual labor needed out here was far beyond the physical strength she could manage, and these employees flung open boxes and bay doors like they were nothing! No, online application, she could not move and lift approximately fifty pounds as part of her daily duties.
On second thought, maybe these boxes would involve breaking her back…
It seemed that good luck smiled upon her tonight in the way of simple yet mind numbing tasks. There on a two tiered rolling cart parked by a bay door ramp were the aforementioned parts she was asked to toss out, packed tight into rows of neatly stacked cases no bigger than a shoebox. The good news was, if they really all were just broken hardware, they shouldn’t weigh more than a couple pounds. The bad news was there were probably twenty boxes on both platforms of the cart, which meant she was going to have to throw almost all of them individually as the mouth of the dumpster would be too high for her to drop full armloads.
Well, she said she wanted those extra twenty minutes.
Immediately after pushing the cart outside, Serena was cursing at herself for not grabbing her sweater. The chill that racked down her spine only made the tense muscles in her shoulders ache worse. In and out, dumpster and back, finish and go home. The only person prolonging this miserable task was herself. Though perhaps she was only feeling so on edge because of the fact she was outside. Alone. In the near dark. As an unarmed woman. She shivered again and pushed herself to walk faster towards the dumpster that felt like it was half a mile away rather than thirty feet.
There was nothing to worry about, she was making herself paranoid for nothing. The glow of the ‘WerTech Production’ sign illuminated the backlot of the warehouse enough for her to see, not to mention the security cameras positioned at nearly every junction to ensure no thefts during shipping and receiving hours occurred. So, if she was jumped or kidnapped or murdered or somehow all three of those things at once while being outside for five minutes, Serena could take solace in the knowledge that they may or may not be able to catch her attacker on film. Yippee.
Christ, no wonder she was getting so worked up around throwing away some trash, she was her own worst enemy when it came to reassuring thoughts. What if, instead, she stopped worrying about becoming a television cold case and imagined a scenario where she finishes this stupid chore before going home? And then maybe she’d get a call from Gregory explaining that he had made some mathematical error on her time sheet and accidentally signed off on an extra forty-three hours? And because it was already submitted to her course instructor at the time, she was cleared to receive her credit hours and never had to come back to this place ever again or stand unguarded in their dimly lit backlots?
Her fantasy was unlikely, but it never hurt a girl to dream. Still, she gave a quick scan of her surroundings every few moments to reassure herself that nothing had mysteriously changed. No unmarked cars or headlights appearing, no hulking figure in the distance waiting to charge, just a chilled breeze and the ambient noises of the evening keeping her company. As much as she would love to stay in this half state of anxiety, she found herself all but jogging with the cart back to the safety of the warehouse before the final box had the chance to smack against the dumpster’s walls. For some reason, moving felt safer. Being stationary meant she’d be easier to focus on and attack, whereas keeping a fast pace would make it harder to snag.
Assuming there was anything remotely after her. A mosquito, perhaps. Knife-welding boogeyman, probably not so much.
And yet, the way Serena felt her heart stutter when her eyes caught sight of the property fence somehow validated and heightened her wariness. The tall, netted metal was used to block out any unwanted visitors of the human and animal kind, preventing access into the building unless they went in through the main doors to the reception desk or had a company keycard. There were a few locked gates within the fence to make it easier to enter or exit from one particular side of the building or another, and maybe something to do with OSHA standards for fire safety or whatever. Where Serena stood with her white knuckle grip on the cart, she could see straight down the gap between two shipping containers at one of the gates, despite it being blurred into the natural shadows of night.
And it was open.
And maybe she ran up the docking ramp at an impressive speed and slammed the door behind her, jabbing the lock button in rapid succession under the illusion she’d secured herself ten times more than usual.
And maybe it took an embarrassing amount of minutes for her to steady her heart rate with deep breaths.
And maybe afterwards, she mentally berated herself for acting like a child who was afraid of monsters in the dark.
Where had this newfound apprehension come from? She’d never been like this before, and she certainly never had any problem with working late in an office by herself. Hell, she never even felt an ounce of this kind of nervousness walking out of the front doors to her car every night, although that could be because she was more relieved to pick up a late dinner and crash on her couch than she cared about an ax murderer in her backseat.
Right, dinner. She hadn’t had dinner yet and it was already close to half past eight. These were probably just jitters in relation to low blood sugar, coupled with typical work related aggravation and excitement at being so close to wrapping up her internship. No wonder it felt like her nerves were dialed up to an eleven. On the way back to the finance office (that still made no sense for her desk to be there), she could buy a quick snack from the vending machine outside of the break room for a little pick-me-up. Or potentially a full dinner. The twisting in her stomach was making her appetite more finicky than usual and eating an entire cereal bar sounded pretty daunting right now.
That still didn’t stop Serena from bumping the vending machine with her shoulder just as the metal coil dropped her chosen snack, slyly knocking the one behind it off the rack as well and giving her a two for one of blueberry whole grain breakfast bars. You learn a lot of neat tricks when you’re a starving college freshman that still come in handy as a hangry college graduate.
She pocketed one of the packages and tore open the other, trying to trick herself that she was feeling hunger rather than agitation. Each bite was a little easier to swallow than the last once her body realized it was actually getting some form of nutrients that it had been craving since her lunch break at noon. Yet she couldn’t ignore the feeling of the hairs on her neck prickling, like she was being watched no matter what angle she turned herself to check for shadows.
So, she started walking, because moving was safer.
The same sensation of being observed followed her no matter what hall she dipped into or what speed she tried to maintain. Hopefully, the calories of the cereal bar she hastily stuffed into her mouth would work their magic soon. She was damn near tempted to inhale the second snack in her pocket with the belief her unbalanced emotions would be regulated twice as fast. Instead, she ducked into the women’s restroom as soon as she caught it from her peripherals, the one private place she was sure she –
[Note: Full coverage achieved by use of hidden cameras in rooms otherwise unmonitored]
– could have a moment of peace. It worked that way during normal operating hours, she saw no reason why it couldn’t provide that same comfort now.
Her shoulders slouched in relief at the imagery sensation of a dozen watchful eyes finally shutting themselves. The thumping of her pulse in her ears faded just as quickly as it had begun, another sign of faux trepidation that was soothed in a matter of seconds once she settled down. With a deep sigh that was definitely not meant to help steady her heartbeat, she stepped over to the sinks and peered at her reflection in the mirror, bracing her hands on the cool counter to further ground her.
It was amazing how quickly unwarranted consternation could turn someone into a hot mess. Or there was a chance that was just how Serena always looked these days, a gradual decline in rationality after being temporarily employed at an office job. Her blouse was bunched up near the collar from where she had grabbed her chest, baby hair slicked on her forehead out of place by sweat and curls frizzy at the end. The bags under her eyes looked more pronounced, or was it that the shadows made them appear deeper while she overworked and under-ate? At this rate, she had every damn right to be stressed and it was only now that her body was finally taking it out on her. Late nights bred insomnia more often than not, meals were replaced with junk food or beverages with way too much caffeine, her eyes flickered between computer screens and files and textbooks until they watered.
She really wished this physical and/or mental breakdown would have had the decency to wait until the end of the week. At least then she could have suffered her panic attacks in the comfort of her own home with a bag of frozen peas on her stomach and the entire series of Overruled! playing for the millionth time as a familiar white noise. She still could, if she wanted.
Serena splashed cold water on her face, uncaring how it wet her hair and dripped down onto her clothes. It wasn’t like she would be seeing anyone when she walked out, it didn’t matter how unkempt she looked in the final ten minutes it would take to lock up the building and walk to her car. The touch felt nice on her burning cheeks, a contrast to the frigidity shooting through her core from being outside in the new spring air.
“Okay, okay,” she said to no one but her mirror image. Leveling a firm gaze with the other woman, she tried to even out her voice into something more persuasive. “You’re tired. You’re stressed out. You’re so fucking done with this place. Just…just go home, girl. That’s all you gotta do. Go home and sleep and finish strong.”
She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince the reflection or if she was hoping the reflection would convince her. Either way, she took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly, and walked out of the restroom determined not to let her insides jumble themselves up over nothing. If anything, doing her rounds to lock up the building should provide her with a sense of comfort in knowing she was safe all along. Each locked door relaxed her a smidgen more, though flicking off the lights immediately returned the foreboding she just got rid of. Much like a parent, she had to console her inner child that nothing was going to magically appear that hadn’t been there two seconds before she turned off the lights just because it was dark now.
Even if some of those decorative plants looked awful menacing in the shadows.
Luckily, the routine of triple pressing lock buttons and turning off hall lights was well ingrained in Serena’s mind, helping her breeze through closing up without much of a second thought. Before she knew it, she was already walking down the darkened main hallway back to her desk to clock out, her path illuminated only by the fixed lights of the vending machine and overhead exit signs. Sure, having her back to total darkness and the end of a long, gaping hallway behind her made her neck itch with the overwhelming fear of being observed that had no business being in WerTech headquarters. But as long as she didn’t turn around to confront her fears, it was like it was nonexistent. Schrodinger’s horror movie, in a way.
No way in hell was she going to be sacrificed as the token black character. Serena Boyd was a goddamn final girl.
[Note: Subject remains unaware of Abnormality’s eyes behind her. Abnormality does not close in for the kill, keeping distance in Hallway 3.]
Firing off a reply to Gregory’s email to confirm all requests were done and logging her time out at a quarter to nine, she was out the door and locking the main entrance while her desktop was still running its shut down screen. This time when she was outside, strangely enough, no feeling of dread weighed down her heart until it sank to her stomach. If anything, it was as if that pressure had been lifted off her back, alleviating her tension more and more with every step to the driver side of her car. By the time she was pulling out of the parking lot, the anxiety was completely gone, almost instantly forgotten.
The curse of corporate hell, she supposed.
–
END OF FIRST NIGHT
–
Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of Abnormality’s eyes in darkened Hallway 3.]
Boyd shows no acknowledgement of Abnormality’s presence.
Abnormality choosing to prolong hunt is unusual deviation from previous observations.
–
Second Day
–
MORNING OVERVIEW
Abnormality has not been spotted on CCTV or by witnesses during daylight operating hours.
WerTech Production employees remain unaware, including Boyd.
Manufactured request anonymously submitted from ABC has guaranteed Boyd will stay later after hours in building alone.
Abnormality continues to pursue chosen prey more intensely.
–
It took everything in Serena’s power to not lean over her manager’s desk and flick him right between the eyes.
“Custodial work,” she repeated back to him.
Gregory raised his hands in defense of her unimpressed frown. “Look, I get it, I know it’s not what you signed up for here,” she didn’t sign up for most of the bullshit he assigned to her, frankly, “but it’s just for tonight! And…maybe tomorrow, too. I’m not sure yet.”
“Greg,” she groaned. Because last night hadn’t given her enough heart palpitations, now she needed a migraine on top of it.
Serena didn’t bring up anything about the eeriness of her previous closing shift.
This time, however, her after hour duties couldn’t be helped. Gregory had received an email that morning reminding him that the company’s hired cleaner would be out the remainder of the week for a pre-approved vacation, so he would need to ensure the biweekly tidying of the offices were taken care of to prevent any build up of messes. Sure enough, that time had been blocked out on his computer’s calendar with a note regarding Gloria’s absence, but for the life of him he could not find any email or written document first notifying him she’d be gone. That absolutely did not surprise Serena in the slightest; the man was lucky his coffee mug could find its way to his mouth some days.
“I promise it’s nothing too bad. Just grab the trash from the bathrooms and conference room. Oh, and water the plants up front,” he said.
“Why can’t Julie water the plants? They’re literally in front of her reception desk.”
“Julie already went home for the day.”
“So, why can’t she water them when she comes in tomorrow morning?”
He blinked owlishly at her. “...because they get watered at night.”
Oh, her resolve was chipping away one stupid sentence at a time.
“Okay, yeah, fine. Fine, no problem. Trash and plants,” she conceded with what little sanity she had left. The performance review on her weekly log better have the most glowing fucking review about how much of a team player Serena was and how she went above and beyond her job description that already had nothing to do with her degree.
Her manager nodded with a smile. “Well, I won’t get in your way then,” he tapped the hefty stack of defunct account files on his desk. “Make sure you get these shredded first, though, then you can take it out with the rest of the trash. Just double check the close date is over five years.”
She rubbed the side of her temple. “Uh-huh.”
“And don’t forget to check your email in case anything pops up from me,” he said while shrugging on his coat, almost halfway out the door.
“Uh-huh.”
“Have a good night, Serena!”
“Uh-huh.”
Perhaps the man had a few more brain cells than she gave him credit for; he certainly knew when to get the hell out of dodge right when any of his workers seemed ready to overthrow the corporate regime. With Gregory leaving her to her own devices, she was now officially alone in the building that mildly perturbed her as of twenty-four hours ago. Well, actually, nothing about it had really bothered her all day or even leading up to her nightly run down, but it was as soon as she knew she was by herself, as soon as she instinctively knew the front doors had closed behind Gregory, did her anxiety start creeping its way into her throat.
She wished Gloria was here. Not only because this was a multimillion dollar business that hired custodians for the sole purpose of janitorial duties so that other employees didn’t have to mop and scrub toilets, but because the other woman was good company the nights when they crossed paths. It was strange that she hadn’t mentioned to Serena that she would be out when they chatted earlier in the week. Maybe she hadn’t thought it important to mention, or maybe it was one of those sudden trips that everyone politely referred to as a ‘vacation’ rather than whatever somber event she was going through. Either way, she would have liked to give Gloria a proper goodbye seeing as Friday was likely to be her last day once her hours were signed off.
She guessed she could leave a little note somewhere for her in lieu of a farewell, something she could stick on the supply closet door before she left at the end of her shift to be found Monday evening. And still, despite all her displeasure at having custodial work pushed on her when she was here as an intern for hardware manufacturing, it wouldn’t be right to take out that frustration on poor Gloria. It wasn’t her fault for Gregory’s poor planning, and ignoring or doing a half assed job only meant more work she’d have to make up immediately after her alleged vacation.
So, like everything else, she sucked it up and did what was asked of her. And it wasn’t because she was a pushover! It was because she was a compassionate coworker and she was determined to get every good grace she could squeeze out of this internship to ensure her recommendation letter brimmed with praise.
The monotonous task of opening each file, scanning the finalization date, and shoving its contents through the singular floor shredder a portion at a time helped distract her from the discomfort tingling down her spine. It was much less bearable almost two hours later when she had dumped all the minced paper and manilla folders into a black trash bag, stepping out of the safety of her manager’s office and into the vacant hallway. Partially lit, thankfully, but hardly any more comforting than if it were totally dark. A familiar unease twisted her stomach like before, urging her to leave go leave before something happened. What that ‘something’ was, her brain refused to tell her, which was ever so helpful.
On the bright side, the bathroom trash was almost entirely paper towels in both waste bins, meaning she could carry all her bags out to the dumpster in one trip with no struggle. Even the trash in the conference room was nothing more than a few disposable coffee cups, though the smell of stale drinks did make her crinkle her nose until she tied off the bag. All that was left to do was brace herself for the unknown terrors of the backlot and she could cross this off her to-do list. If nothing had happened last night, then she really doubted anything would try to –
[Note: Subject remains unaware of Abnormality’s eyes following behind her down Hallway 3. Abnormality does not go in for the kill.]
– make a sinister move that could have just as easily been achieved yesterday. Tonight, she made sure she ate a lunch that consisted of vegetables and limited herself to one afternoon energy drink, so there should be no excuse for jitters as far as she was aware. The fact that she was still experiencing them the entire speed walk down the main hall to the side exit was…unrelated. That was because of caffeine withdrawal and a shock response of eating something that wasn’t twice her daily serving of sodium. Regardless of what she tried to do, her body was hellbent on punishing her with physical symptoms of mental distress.
Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.
She paused at the door that led to the dumpsters without having to cut through Warehouse B. The bags were gripped tight enough that her fists trembled while she shifted her weight from foot to foot, stalling. Come on now, this was ridiculous! If Gloria, a tiny little fifty year old woman with creaky knees, could run garbage out in the middle of the night for dozens of companies without a care in the world, then so could Serena. It was more probable that she’d be startled by a raccoon than –
[Note: Abnormality seen tilting its head in interest at Boyd’s hesitance. Sign of emotional intellect recorded in Intelligence Capability file.]
– star in the next episode of a true crime show detailing unsolved mysteries. All she needed to do was rip the bandaid off. With little fanfare, she pushed the door open with her forearm to let the cool air greet her, the night appearing much more inviting than it had prior. As soon as she was outside, everything felt less suffocating. She could feel the coil of her muscles relax enough for her shoulders to drop, having not even realized they were nearly hunched up to her ears for who knows how long. Maybe the outside wasn’t so bad after all, especially now that her body wasn’t running on empty calories for the sixth straight day in a row.
See, a semi balanced meal and an okayish night of sleep was all she needed to get herself back on track. The continued unease she felt inside the building was nothing more than the fact she wished this place would burn to the ground, as all interns feel at some point. During her walk to the dumpster, she caught herself checking between the shipping containers again at the gate that singlehandedly had her sprinting for her life.
It was still open.
Well…it could have always been open. It wasn’t like she came out of the building at any time of the day to confirm how long it had been ajar. There was a possibility that it had been left open since she had started almost three months ago, she simply had no reason to notice until now. The lock might be broken, or the hinges damaged, or the programmed entry code malfunctioning and so needs to be kept agape to prevent the gate from being permanently locked as a safety precaution. And if nobody had bothered to close it in the two days it had caught her attention, then surely it must not be a big deal.
It was all too tempting to say the hell with it all and jump straight into her car parked at the other end of the building. A quiet walk with a slight chill hugging her was just the thing she needed to clear her head as she shook her fear of being assaulted by every criminal in a ten mile radius. There was a comfort Serena hadn’t noticed she was missing in letting the night embrace her; the only thing watching her being the twinkling stars above rather than something unknown glaring daggers into her back.
As lovely as it would be to hop up on the docking platform and stargaze for the better part of an hour, she unfortunately still had things to do if she wanted to get out of here at a somewhat decent time. She had been hoping it would have been early enough for her to cook herself an actual dinner, but the cleaning duties that were tacked on to her schedule nixed that pretty quick. There was probably a twenty-four hour diner she could pop in somewhere around here, at least to eat something that wasn’t prepared in a microwave.
Plants. Email. Done. She repeated the mantra over and over in her head, trying to manifest the rest of an easy night. Instead, she felt her mood plummet the moment she stepped over the threshold back into the building, as if a vacuum had sucked out any serenity she had just experienced.
Plants. Email. Plants. Email. Plants. Email. Plants –
While her luck often felt hypothetical when it came to dealing with anything relating to WerTech Productions, she could count her blessings that there were only three large plants by reception she needed to water. Easy. It’d probably take her longer to fill up the pitcher she took from the break room as a makeshift watering can.
“Because god forbid you get your water at eight in the morning, huh?” Serena asked the monstera she was currently watering.
The massive leaves did not answer, not even to give thanks. What jerks. No wonder they were so bratty about the specific hour they were hydrated.
“Do you guys even get watered every day? That seems like something only Gloria would remember to do, and she’s not here most of the week so…” Talking to plants was not weird. Talking to plants is totally normal and encouraged. “I’d say you’re stuck with me for now, but really, you’re on your own as soon as the weekend rolls around.”
Serena smiled while watering the last pot, imagining that she was dumping the rest of the tap water on Gregory’s lap. “Because once I clock out on Friday, I am totally, one hundred percent, out of he- AH!”
The pitcher flew out of her hand when she startled, slipping on the fresh puddle on the floor as she whirled around to look behind her. She grit her teeth when she landed hard on her bottom, feeling her pants soak up the unpleasant wetness of water. Damp jeans were the least of her concerns as she frantically looked above for any sign of those…fuck, what were those, eyes? That’s what her mind was convinced she had caught a glimpse of in the reflection of the transom windows above the entryway. Two orbs practically glowing against the shadowed backdrop of evening that swirled with color, looking down directly at her in an unblinking gaze, wide with intrigue.
But that was impossible. Absurd. Insane. Eyes did not look like that, eyes could not tower so high like that, eyes certainly were not in the same vicinity as she was or that would only imply something else was in the building with her.
No, now the idea that it was something rather than someone only made her breathing come out in more ragged gasps. She clutched her shirt, feeling her heart hammering at worrying speed under her knuckles, like it was trying to break free from her chest and save itself. With the confirmation there had been nothing behind her, she whipped her head back towards the windows where she saw the reflection. What she assumed was a reflection, that was. Who was to say it wasn’t something peering in at her, as if that was any better than knowing it was directly behind her?
There was nothing in the windows but stars and street lights.
Right…right, because that was all unbelievable to get worked up over. Giant eyes, really? Like some cheesy sci-fi concept from the fifties? Obviously, she had glanced over while some headlights were passing in the distance. Or a plane was flashing overhead. Or a floater in her vision popped up as a reminder she hadn’t drank anything that wasn’t loaded with sugar in a stupidly long time. No Peeping Tom here with noticeable cataracts, just a girl with a frayed thread of rationality who may very well lose her mind in a place that barely deserved her patience.
Yeah, it was time to go home. Most of the water spilt had been absorbed into the backside of her pants, the rest of it would probably dry up before morning. Sorry Gloria, but this wasn’t any type of cleaning she had the wits for at the moment. She didn’t even bother bringing the pitcher back to the break room, opting to leave it on Julie’s desk. And hey, while it was there, maybe she could make herself useful and water the damn plants for once.
“Fuck me,” Serena said with a thick swallow, cringing how her jeans stuck to her thighs and chaffed with every step she took.
I’m going to burn down this place and not even try to make it look like it was an accident. I want them to know it was me. Capitalism hath no fury like a woman scorned in the STEM field .
She didn’t bother sitting in her chair, knowing it would only add to the mirage of discoloration on the cushion. Not that she particularly cared about that, rather she wasn’t in the mood to sit in soggy pants longer than necessary. Perhaps because her heart was still coming down from the adrenaline overdose while she vigorously shook her computer mouse to bring her desktop back up, the unexpected jumpscare of an entirely red background on her home screen did little more than make her breath hitch. Apprehension turned to confusion as she clicked around on her background with no change to its new glaring color. The program icons were still there, but it was like the calm blue stock logo that was formerly displayed on her desktop had all of its pixels fried to a damaged scarlet.
That wasn’t good. Though from what she could tell, nothing else seemed unusual about her computer’s functionality. There could be an issue with the phosphors that was causing the red light to overcompensate for the blue. In theory, this would have been something Serena was perfectly qualified to diagnose and fix on her own had she been given the hands-on training she was promised to make good on her textbook knowledge. But she couldn’t, so she didn’t, even if she was fairly confident on what to do.
Ignoring the glaring color that was making her eyes squint, her theory was swift to change from hardware error to software corruption when her email window pulled onto the screen. Of course, there was one new email from Gregory, declaring itself urgent and important and time stamped only twenty minutes after he left which meant he would know if Serena flat out ignored him by pretending to go home. Annoying, but not what immediately caught her attention. A pop-up window for an email draft flashed to request if she would like to save her work in the event the program shut down. Considering she couldn’t recall writing any emails within the last four hours on the clock, she dismissed the notification to skim through and jog her memory.
–
[Email Transcript]
Sender: [Empty]
Recipient: [Empty]
Subject: [Empty]
Note: Original email contained roughly 38,000 characters. Below is a cut passage.
sEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡a
–
She blinked, pursing her lips. “That’s…something.”
Something she knows for a fact she hadn’t typed, much less received from anyone else. Crap, she must have some type of malware on her computer then. The virus was trying to make her home screen unreadable while pulling her personal information from her profile and email contacts. She was certain it would brick her whole system once it sent out a mass phishing email to her coworkers. Although, really, that wasn’t much of her problem if it was done after the end of the work week…
Still, she went ahead and deleted the wall of text and started a new draft to be sent to IT. If she was lucky, maybe they’d decide to wipe her computer tomorrow morning to stop the malware before it got any worse, effectively leaving her with no access to any of the databases and with nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs on her last day. No, there was no chance she’d have that kind of fortune; Gregory would definitely make her do some type of asinine clerical work like taking out staples from expense reports and fasten them on the opposite corner.
Oh well. If she sweet talked Alice in IT enough, there was a chance she could worm her way into spending a morning going over debugging and system diagnostics for firmware while asking for a demonstration on how to fix her computer. Girls had to stick together in this type of industry, after all. And she knew damn well Alice had the best gossip of the office given that she had remote access to just about anyone’s system. Serena was dying to know if there was any follow up to the board director that was sending electronic payments to his mistress on the company credit card.
After sending a quick heads up to IT that she was in need of their assistance ASAP tomorrow morning and pinky promising she hadn’t clicked any suspicious links recently, she checked to see what was so high on her manager’s priority list that he had forgotten all day to tell her.
–
[Email Transcript]
Sender: Gregory Jules
Recipient: Serena Boyd
Subject: !! Please read before leaving!!
Hey there, Serena,
Super sorry to wait until the last minute, but I totally forgot Jorge wanted me to grab last quarter’s Bangling order forms for him. Think you can do me a solid and grab those from the stock room? Just drop them on my desk and I’ll run them up to his office when I get in.
You’re a lifesaver!
Gregory Jules
–
Yeah, he wanted to be the one to make the delivery to the executives on the legendary second level so that it didn't look like skipped out on the one job he was asked to do. Typical. At least it wasn’t anymore cleaning or shredding, just moving a box from point A to point B. She could deal with that. She’s dealt with everything thus far.
She might not be dealing with it well, but she was dealing with it nonetheless. Such as pointedly averting her gaze from lingering on any reflective surface for too long in case she saw someone stare back.
But why would she think her night would improve in any capacity at this point? Was she so foolish to assume that because she had finished her duties that she could go about her life in peace? Had working here for ten weeks taught her nothing? The worst was always yet to come and it seemed in her final week here it was more determined than ever to sour her enjoyment of near freedom.
With an undignified hum, the lights cut out.
Not just the lights in the office, but apparently the entire building, plunging almost every square foot into total darkness. The red glow of the exit signs barely offered any solace and the security lights along the exterior had died as well, making only scarce moonlight peek through the windows.
[Note: WerTech Production security cameras are equipped with night vision capability. Cameras remain operational despite sudden blackout, indicating Abnormality’s involvement.]
Fantastic. Wonderful. Because Serena didn’t have enough issues last night about the unknown spooks hiding in the shadows. It must be a total power outage as the air was quick to grow stuffy without the vents circulating it. Unless WerTech forgot to pay their electricity bill, which…honestly wouldn’t be that surprising depending on who was in charge of paying that monthly.
This wasn’t the first time the breaker had been tripped. It had already happened once while she was in the middle of her shift and Alice had told her plenty of other instances. Sometimes it would only be a department, sometimes it would be the whole place, and one time they had managed to cut power in HR while flipping the circuit back on for Warehouse A. Every time, the cause for the outage was due to (or at least blamed on) the technicians out in operations and assembly testing too many high voltage components at once. It was an easy fix of going to the storage wing and flicking the switches back on the breaker box, though it was much more of a hassle during work hours when everyone had to wait for their computers to reboot and pray they hadn’t lost too much unsaved progress.
There was no reason it should have tripped now. It wasn’t like she had every desktop turned on and all the power strips unplugged. Unless it had something to do with whatever little virus was in its beginning stage of crashing her PC, but that wasn’t how those things worked. Software bugs couldn’t secretly travel along the physical cables of a power source and knock out anything plugged into a socket.
…she should go check the breaker, just to be safe. She was too close to the finish line to have a blackout pinned on her. Not to mention, she still needed to email Gregory back for her hours. Maybe the hard restart of her system would help kill the program the malware was in the midst of running, too.
The problem was actually getting to the damn storage wing when she couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her. Shapes were swallowed by shadows in such a way that even as her eyes adjusted, it was hard to tell where something jutted out and how far away dim outlines really were. On the bright side, her manager’s office was right down the hall from the employee break room, and under the sink cabinet was a bunch of first aid and shelter-in-place supplies, including a flashlight.
She could only wonder if she looked as moronic as she felt stumbling around in the darkness. Her legs shuffled in hesitant steps while her hands stayed splayed in front of her to catch herself on anything in the way. She’d already knocked her shin twice on a waste bin and the edge of the copy machine in the hall, the second almost causing her to fall. As soon as she was able to press against the left wall, it became much easier to guide herself down a straight line towards the cafeteria. Excluding the grunted string of swears when she clipped her hip on the water fountain sticking out of the alcove near the restrooms.
Oh, she hated this. She hated this very fucking much. The stifling air made her skin prickle with sweat, yet an ominous chill racked her to the core. Despite not being able to see in the slightest, all she could feel was that she was being watched. Every move she made was under someone else’s observation, making her irrationally self conscious of her already clumsy staggering down the hall. Like she was embarrassed that her final moments in someone’s eyes would give the impression that she didn’t know how to walk on her own two feet. Of course, if she was going down, then she wanted to go down with some dignity.
There was no one here. It had already been established that no one was here but her and probably a couple crickets that always found a way inside from the warehouses. Besides, if she couldn’t see, neither could anyone else. Unless they followed the sounds of her tripping and groaning. God, it was killing her not to be able to power walk quicker to the breakroom, knowing she’d only guarantee herself to smack face first into an open door or something. The journey of twenty-some feet might as well have felt –
[Note: Subject remains unaware of Abnormality following behind her as before. Abnormality does not go in for the kill.]
– like a mile long trek with how much energy she exerted just to fumble through the doorway and paw at the lower cabinets until she could feel the bulky flashlight tucked away underneath. It clicked on with a stutter of its bulb, but a shake was all the old batteries needed to keep a steady glow.
No longer surrounded on every side by darkness, Serena found it a smidgen easier to breathe now that there wasn’t the full weight of anxiety on her chest. It was still there, obviously, but now she had the advantage of seeing what obstacles were actually in front of her when the time came to have to sprint for her life from a serial killer ghost. The walk to the storage wing went much smoother thanks to the flashlight’s guidance. Now, instead of bruising her thighs that were still clammy under her wet jeans, she only had to nurse a bruised ego over the notion that she was still afraid of the dark at age twenty-six. Actually, she refused to take shame in that. The dark was goddamn terrifying and people who insisted it wasn’t were either liars or the nightmare entities themselves.
At first, when she opened the door to Storage One, she was confused by the light that flickered inside. If it was a total power outage then it made no sense for there to still be a way that the overhead lights could work, even if the breaker box was mere feet away. That was when she realized the flashes of luminosity were coming from the breaker box itself, spewing out streams of sparks like a fountain on display. The spray of electricity crackled with each pulse of attempted power, burning the air with a bitter smell.
“Oh, shit,” Serena winced, taking an extra step back to avoid any stray spark. That was a little more difficult than flipping a few switches. Workman’s comp was enticing, but she quite liked her fingers to not be blackened stubs and for her heart to remain unexploded.
Despite the illumination of the fried electrical circuits and her flashlight, it was too difficult for her to make out the exact damage that was done. The floor and wall was burnt from the flow of loose currents, yet there didn’t appear to be any type of surrounding destruction as far as she could tell. Damn, guess she was being forced to call it a night after all, which wouldn’t have been so terrible if now she didn’t have to call Gregory to explain the situation and possibly also a fire department. Then again, she did say she wanted to burn this place down to the ground.
The universe was really testing her these days.
Not wanting to get caught in a potential electrical fire, Serena was quick to make her way back down the hallway towards the front entrance to leave. Or it would have been quick, had it not been for the fact she had to skirt out of the way of paper machines and rolling whiteboards and…wait. Had those always been pulled so far out from where they were normally lined against the walls? After all, that was the whole point of keeping them accessible but out of the way of everyone’s walking path. For all her shuffling in the dark, she didn’t think she had any problems with toppling over things that weren’t already affixed to the wall, aside from a few things in Gregory’s office when she chucked the box of order forms through. She considered if her sense of spatial awareness was better than she thought but, no, that side table of pamphlets was literally smack dab in the middle of the hall.
Granted, it didn’t look like anything on the table itself had been disturbed and it wouldn’t be too hard to shove it back into place up front. But that was the problem; it was meant to be up front, around the corner between reception and the entry doors. Not blocking the direct footway. She didn’t put that there, it certainly wasn’t there when she passed through earlier to water the plants or she would have had to pointedly walk around it.
So…how did it get there?
Actually, that was something she could let Gregory deal with when she called him. His files were pulled, the breaker box exploded, and also the furniture was moving on its own now – those were managerial duties, in her opinion.
Still, it was a bit cumbersome to have to maneuver around such bulky things while watching her step in limited lighting. What was the universe trying to do now: impede her route? Slow her down? Why did it feel like everything was so freaking persistent in keeping her stuck here longer than necessary? Even then, it wasn’t like these were very hard obstacles to dodge, not unless she had been running without noticing their strange rearrangement and being forced to pause.
“Sonava-!”
She had been so transfixed on the stupid side table that she completely missed where her foot was stepping, sending her sprawling on her knees when her leg slipped from under her. A shot of pain ran up her elbows from where they took the brunt of her upper body, mellowing into a dull throb seconds later. Sure, she had already fallen flat on her ass today, she may as well let her front take a bit of abuse, too.
Gripping the flashlight that had almost rolled out of reach when she landed, she shined it behind her legs to see what she could have possibly slid on. It wasn’t water, she was plenty familiar with that sensation already. It was…
Cereal bars?
A glance next to the impressive pile of whole grain snacks revealed the vending machine, powered off but missing an entire row of treats. Another look at the mound confirmed they were, indeed, the snacks that were meant to be stocked. A couple toaster pastries, quick breakfast nibbles, including the same snack she had gotten herself two of yesterday to serve as dinner. Actually, she had only gotten the ones with blueberry filling, whereas it looked like the machine was happy to spit out other four flavor options as well to add to its disposed horde.
The weird surge probably had something to do with the vending machine dispensing things at random. Tempting as it was to shove a bunch of free food in her arms and call it a successful grocery haul, there was no way Serena could get away with taking what had to be a hundred dollars worth of cheap snacks without anyone noticing. And really, right now, she wasn’t much in the mood to stick around and have a bite to eat. She wanted to go home, change her clothes, and maybe prevent WerTech Productions from being a smoldering shell by opening hours.
“What the hell is wrong with this place?,” she mumbled. She couldn’t walk fast enough out the front doors, not bothering to lock it behind her. The sigh she blew into her hands was more pained than she wanted to admit. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
She swore her car headlights against the showroom windows looked just like eyes as she drove away.
–
END OF SECOND NIGHT
–
Picture Left: [ID - CCTV still frame of Hallway 3 cluttered with moved furniture.]
Abnormality’s hunting behavior has taken unprecedented deviation from previous encounters.
Abnormality has chosen to stalk prey without engagement despite ample opportunities.
Because the power outage was confirmed to be the result of Abnormality’s abilities, continued usage of property’s CCTV camera footage was unexpected. This implies
Abnormality is aware it is being observed with its prey and allowed it OR
Abnormality is also using CCTV to track Boyd
Abnormality has also used technological interference to direct attention at Boyd.
See:
Email consisting only of Boyd’s name and hearts
Collection of food previous seen eaten by Boyd
Despite unusual occurrences, Boyd appears to remain unaware of Abnormality and reports findings as an electrical blow up. This is accepted to be fact by WerTech Production superiors.
–
AB299 Behavioral Theories
New theories regarding Abnormality’s shift in hunting practices have been noted to include the following:
Note: Ranked by likelihood
Savor Theory - Abnormality is intentionally causing psychological distress to prey as a way of toying with its food; it is beginning to take pleasure in the hunt rather than relying solely for survival means.
Courtship Theory - Abnormality is displaying interest in affection towards prey in an attempt at reciprocation; rejection of courtship will likely result in prey’s demise.
Enrichment Theory - Abnormality is not actively on a hunt; instead it is showing signs of new emotional threshold by harmless playing; prey likely to be killed once game is over.
Theories to be revised as more information is gathered from subsequent observations.
–
Third Day
–
“A break in? Are you kidding me right now?”
“Hey, okay, lower your voice, alright?.”
“No. No, you cannot just come up here and tell me you think we had a goddamn break in–”
“I mean, we don’t know for sure…”
“- when I am here alone, every night, no protection –”
“I get it, I totally get you–”
“- fighting for my freaking life–”
“Look, let’s just,” Gregory took an exaggerated breath, hoping Serena might mimic his attempt to calm down. The twitch of her eye said otherwise. “take a breather.”
“Sure, yeah, because apparently it might be my last,” she said.
Her manager had the decency to wait until the end of the day during their performance talk to drop the bomb on her that last night’s strange happenings may have been the result of an attempted robbery. This was done, naturally, when everyone else had already left to enjoy their weekend and weren’t around to hear Serena’s outrage.
When she had come in that morning, the power had been restored and everyone was abuzz with new rumors about some mysterious fire that nearly torched all of their outlets. Some jokingly lamented that they wished the system had stayed fried so they could enjoy a three-day holiday. Others were pissed that their computers had to be manually restarted and lost whatever data they had pulled up in sleep mode. None of them had asked Serena if she knew anything about what happened despite always being the last one in the building, unknowing that she was the one who had to walk Gregory through the steps of calling a fire marshal and scheduling an on-call electrician to come out before opening shift.
All she had been told by him soon after she arrived was that everything was hunky dory now besides the fact that the breaker box was severely damaged and barely fixed and one overloaded circuit might cause the whole thing to blow. But other than that, there was nothing too major to worry about.
Except now, because of the clear tampering around the busted and scorched metal, the slashed wiring, the unexplained decoration of appliances that had since been moved back to their original positions. Random electrical malfunctions were a rare but not unheard of occurrence. The signs around this one, however, seemed to be intentional.
She wondered if Alice had known about these new suspicions. The technician hadn’t mentioned anything about it while she sat next to her and wiped her computer’s internal harddrive as a precaution against the virus. All she got out of her was a side eye when Serena tried to convince her she hadn’t downloaded anything from a shady website and a tidbit that one of the call center girl’s didn’t know browsing history was logged until she had to explain a few interesting searches to IT when deleting her cookies. She should just be thankful no one was trying to point the finger at her for somehow being involved as a vindictive employee hellbent on torching her way out of here. That wasn’t an additional comment she wanted added to her weekly log.
“I’m only telling you about this so that you won’t worry,” Gregory explained.
She cupped the hollow of her cheeks in the palms of her hands. “Greg. How…is that meant to make me not worry?”
He shrugged. “Because we don’t know if it really was a burglary or not! The cameras got all screwy during the outage.”
[Note: WerTech Production archived footage was wiped after Boyd’s departure on second day. ABC’s taped live recordings were untouched in facility’s database. Abnormality is purposely hiding its tracks.]
“And if there was?” She pressed.
“Then they probably won’t be back,” he assured her. “We’ve done some stock recounts and nothing looks to be missing so far. If it was anybody, it looks like they thought it was a bust.”
“You’re killing me,” she said, cutting him off before he could try to soothe her again. “No, really, you’re killing me. You’re signing me up for a death trap.” She threw her hands up in the air, if only to keep herself from wrapping them around his neck. “Probably? Probably? Or, how about this, they come back now that they’ve cased the place and know I’m here by myself defenseless. What do you think is going to happen then, Greg? I can tell you what I think is going to happen.”
Gregory shook his head. “No, no, I hear you, I got it, trust me. I’m on your side! I know that’s gotta be pretty scary for a young girl like yourself. I can’t imagine what it must be like in your shoes.”
“...but?”
“...but, we’ve taken some extra precautions for tonight, just for you.”
She rolled her eyes and flopped back in her chair, sinking into the leather with a groan. “I’m flattered.”
“I’m serious, Serena, I really do take your safety as a priority,” he said in such an earnest tone that she softened her glare just a fraction. “We’ve got security on site the entire time you’ll be here, even to walk you to your car. Cameras are good to go again. I already had Ops lock up all the access doors so that you don’t need to check them, just lock up the front like you normally do on your way out.”
That was all…pretty reasonable. For once, the stress uncoiled from her body at Gregory’s words, a personal best in the entire three months they’ve worked together. Her visible relief must have eased his own worries, thankful she didn’t want to escalate the issue any further in a way that might involve board directors and/or legal fees. Relief may be too strong of a word; more like the same type of acceptance when dealing with the five stages of grief.
“Real easy job tonight. Just need you to print out the stock count sheets I emailed you earlier and check that they’re in the right bins out in Warehouse B. You can take Ted with you if you don’t want to be alone, or y–”
Brown eyes that had been closed in resignation flew open to look at her manager. “Ted?”
He paused. “Yeah, Ted…the security guard? You’ve had to have met him, right?”
Of course, almost every woman in the office knew Ted. They knew him because he was a weird little creep that ogled a bit too much at the monitor feeds and had the social awareness of a rock. Guys thought he was such a jokester, ladies thought he had no business telling them how great that skirt looked from the back when the cameras captured them leaning over a filing cabinet.
Would you believe me if I told you he got caught with his hand down his pants once? Alice had asked during one of their mini gossip breaks. Serena scrunched her face in disgust, asking if that was true and praying that it wasn’t, but the other woman only shrugged with a smirk.
I dunno, but you believed it, so what does that say about him? She said.
“Why Ted?” she asked instead. “Why not Allen? Or Jodie?”
Gregory frowned, the furrowing of his brow matching hers. “He was the only one available for after hours on short notice. Why, what’s wrong with Ted?”
A lot of things, even if most of it was hearsay. The fact that so many women had so many consistent stories about him was more than enough evidence for any of them. Except for HR and anyone higher up on the ladder, who apparently wanted fifty pages of proof that Ted had physically acted inappropriately to combat the dozens of complaints against him. It was an argument Serena was sure her manager had already heard plenty of times before, and tonight would not be the night he miraculously changed his tune.
Ted was all she had in the way of personal security, otherwise she was on her own. Despite it being really, really inviting to stay by herself instead of having to share any type of close quarters with him. Did she think he would try to pull anything…violent on her? No, but, she definitely couldn’t be too careful. And even if he was proven to be totally harmless, spending the evening getting leered at and given unwarranted ‘compliments’ was not her ideal way to spend a Friday night, much less in a professional work environment that was dead set on turning half her curls gray.
If nothing else, she can always sacrifice him to give herself a running start should anything start to go bump in the night.
“Nothing, he’s…fine,” she grumbled. The way she crossed her arms was reminiscent of a pouting child.
“Hey, listen, it’s only for one more night,” Gregory said. “I know you’ve gotta be excited to fly the coop and get out there in the real world. After tonight, you’ve got a whole slew of opportunities to look forward to.” He was right, almost encouraging, like a real manager. “Don’t give up while you’re in the homestretch. You can stick it out for a couple hours, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Yeah! So don’t let these kinds of things bum you out; you should be pumped! You’re done after tonight, girl, you get to party over the weekend like a real college graduate!”
God, Gregory was so painfully in his late forties. She could still appreciate his attempt at a relatable pep talk, even if it made her inwardly cringe rather than motivated her.
“One more night,” she sighed in agreement. “I can do this.”
“You can do this!”
“...okay, well, I’m going to go do it then,” Private rallying over, she bid him a goodnight while he rambled on about how proud he was of her, how much he was going to miss having a free spirit like her in the office, to keep in touch, that he’ll get her final hours submitted to her professor over the weekend, not to hesitate to reach out if she needed a job reference or even a formal interview to become salaried at WerTech –
For all his airheadedness as a manager, Gregory really wasn’t too bad of a guy. She most definitely was not going to take him up on his offer to stay in contact, though.
It felt weird in some way, knowing this was the last time she’d be plopping down in her dingy swivel chair at a desk in a department she had no business being in, turning on a computer that had already had most of her work expunged aside from her login. She couldn’t say that she’d miss this place, certainly not after these last few nights of pandemonium, but…it wasn’t all bad. Mostly bad, but not always, and usually not outright terrible. She really was on her way to become a bonafide computer engineer if she had lowered the bar this far down when ranking what a decent job was like.
Just as she was reaching for her mouse to pull up the email she needed to print, her hand bumped against something that hadn’t been there previously. A blueberry whole grain cereal bar, courtesy of the vending machine outside the office. It wasn’t hers; she hadn’t bought anything today, which meant someone must have left it on her desk between the time it took to finalize an EOD request and have her enlightening chat with Gregory.
Ted. It had to be Ted. There was literally no one else it could be because he was the only person accounted for staying late besides her. He’s probably seen her eating the same snack as a shoddy meal substitute more times then she’d care to admit. What was this meant to be – a peace offering, an attempt at flirting? If it were anyone but the security guard, she might have been a touch peeved that such a simple act stole her heart. To know that someone paid attention to the little details about her and rather than judging her pisspoor diet, offered her a bonus treat to make sure she ate.
But, it came from Ted, and Ted could choke for all she cared.
The churning in her stomach insisted that it didn’t matter who it was from so long as she stuffed it down her throat posthaste. She was hungry, having skipped lunch in favor of an iced coffee to secure that hour towards her final count. This had to be some endeavor to butter her up, maybe to act like he had treated her to dinner so that he could insist she owed him a favor in return.
Fuck it. Serena was starving and this dry cereal bar she was only a little bit sick of was the best thing she had seen all day. If Ted tried to pull anything funny with her over it, she could shove the two dollars and fifty cents in his face for an equal exchange. Stale whole grain and artificial blueberry preservatives had never –
[Note: Following Courtship Theory - Subject’s approval for Abnormality’s offering believed to be taken as agreement towards advances, becoming the catalyst for later events.]
– tasted so good.
She was halfway done with the snack by the time the printer had finished spitting out her count sheets. Warm paper held to her chest, a pen tucked behind her ear, she crammed the last two bites into her mouth and crumpled up the wrapper to throw it away on her way to the warehouse. Just as she was about to turn the corner for the double doors, she saw the familiar black security jacket slink out of the breakroom to follow after her. She wondered if he could feel the displeasure rolling off her the mere moment he existed within her bubble. He was probably used to that.
“Hey, Sierra!” he called to her, quickening his pace to catch up with her determined speed walk.
“It’s Serena.”
“Right, right, sorry,” he laughed. “We haven’t really spent a lot of time together, is all.”
And she would have liked to have kept it that way.
Her lack of a response did not deter him from having a one sided conversation. “So, Greg told me today was your last day?”
“Hopefully.”
“That’s crazy, it feels like you just got here.”
“Feels like it’s been ten weeks to me.”
“Did they throw you a party?”
“No.”
“Did they get you a card or something?”
“No.”
“Well hell, did they do anything for you?”
No. Really, she was fine with that. She was sure a majority of the people here would miss her the same amount as she would miss them, which was next to nothing. She was only an intern after all, not even stationed in the correct department or working alongside anyone that could be considered a mentor. There was no reason to mourn her scheduled departure. Frankly, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stomach the fake smiles and overly saddened coworkers crowding around her in the breakroom had they decided to host a farewell luncheon in her honor anyways.
Although, she wouldn’t have turned down a free cake.
“You know, I could always take you out somewhere,” Ted shrugged, trying to play it like a nonchalant offer. “It’s not right to have no one celebrate you on your last day.”
She rolled her eyes and entered the door code. “I can celebrate by myself at home, thanks.”
The guard gave her a cocky grin, an attempt to pull some sort of boyish charm he was too old to use. “C’mon, let me treat you to a couple drinks after this.”
With a strained smile that didn’t reach her eyes, Serena shoved the wadded up wrapper from her cereal bar at Ted’s chest, who caught it in surprise. Or maybe he was just shocked by a woman’s touch.
“You already treated me to dinner, that’s about as much as I can take,” she said.
He blinked as she pulled open the door to Warehouse B and slipped inside. “Huh? What do you – I didn’t…”
His voice trailed away from her ears when the door shut between them, muffling whatever backup plan he was surely going to try on her next. Faintly, she could hear his muffled see you on the cameras, then as she walked off down to the shelving racks she needed to check off. She couldn’t help the roll of disgust in her stomach that didn’t settle well with her pathetic dinner, though she didn’t think it would have mattered if she was full or not. The idea alone of Ted watching her every move through the CCTV at the direct order of her manager made her skin crawl. But at least he was several rooms away with many doors between them, allowing him to keep his skeezy thoughts to himself on the other end of the video feed.
The inventory she was asked to count wasn’t too difficult to handle. The guys and gals out here kept the bins organized to perfection under their shockingly competent warehouse manager. Everything was in its assigned place, clearly labeled, marked with daily quantities at the end of each shift to keep track of so many moving parts. Again, Gregory, a filing system is not that hard to maintain. Checking off if pallets were stacked in the correct location and how many GPUs were in each shipping box was the easiest task she’d done all week. Hell, being this close to actual manufacturing parts was the closest she’d gotten to doing what her degree was intended for the entirety of her internship.
As quickly as she was breezing through these stock sheets, she was glad she gave up her lunch hour to go towards her weekly log. She wasn’t sure this would take her any more than forty-five minutes to finish. Of course, because she’s such a thorough and dedicated employee that should be hired anywhere she applies, she could always go back and double check her counts. For absolute accuracy, certainly not to stretch out an easy hour and a half. She wouldn’t want to miss a single solid-state drive and throw off their supplies.
She was counting a box of coolant jugs for the third time when her hand froze mid pen stroke. All at once, it was as if her body drenched in dread, an icy shock dumped over her head like a bucket of water. Her back stiffened, forcing her to square her shoulders and stand at full height.
Someone was watching her.
No shit someone was watching her, that was the whole point of Ted being on duty with her. However, the ick he normally gave her was nothing compared to the way her heart started to rabbit out of the blue. Her pulse was roaring in her ears, drowning out her thoughts in favor of panic for no discernable reason. Every labored breath was forced through her nose to prevent herself from hyperventilating. Her feet refused to move to turn her around and see what might be the instinctual cause for her bout of anxiety this time. Never before had she considered herself someone with a panic disorder, but the constant flare ups this week were starting to become alarming.
Chances are, Ted was glued to watching her backside from the security cameras positioned around the warehouse aisles. If there really was someone or any reason that she would be in immediate danger, he would have alerted her by now. He was a creep and a weirdo, but he was still a qualified security guard. She was sure he’d love nothing more than to burst in and play the role of a macho hero who more than earned an evening with the fair maiden he rescued.
“You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine,” she whispered, balling her hand into a fist to help direct her tension somewhere she could control. “No one here but you. You and the terminal casings.”
An overhead light popped behind her. The sound of crackling acrylic jolted her from her rigid posture to whirl around for the source. Further down the deep row of the rack aisle, one of the ceiling lights flickered before dying from a voltage overload. She stared up at the fixture in puzzlement, vaguely wondering what could have caused it to blow out so unexpectedly. Right, Gregory had told her that the breaker box had been fixed as best it could for the time being, but it was treading a fine line between operational and shorting out. A random current was probably redirected through the wiring and overloaded the fluorescent tubes.
Then the lights next to it sputtered and blew out, casting a deep shadow at the end of the aisle. Another fixture fritzed, then another, and suddenly the darkness was rapidly approaching her down the row ready to swallow her in pitch black.
She couldn’t focus on anything but turning on her heel to dash away from the encroaching shadow. The lights burned bright until they burst into sparks in quick succession, trailing behind her sprinting form at an alarming pace. Almost as if it was determined to close the distance that had previously been between them, to pull her in just as it had fully encompassed her last night despite its suffocating grip. Could Ted see her fleeing for her life from the pursuing shadows, or had the cameras in the warehouse already gone offline in tandem with the localized blackout? Should she bother trying to scream for help? What good would that do besides embarrass her once she could see past her irrational fear? Or worse, what if help –
[Note: Though Subject is fleeing in distress, she makes no acknowledgement of Abnormality’s hand reaching for her.]
– came too late?
Serena slammed her shoulder into the access door, dropping her papers to scatter on the floor and frantically wiggle the handle in a desperate attempt to get through. She had forgotten that Ops already locked up the outside doors for the night in what was meant to be a gesture to make her feel safer in the building. But she didn’t want to be in the building, she wanted to be out out get out go get OUT–
“Open, open, please,” she panted. Fumbling fingers swiped her keycard against the reader over and over until the magnetic strip made enough contact. The beeping lock was lost in the static that rumbled between her ears, only focusing on twisting down the knob and flinging open the door before the last light of the aisle could plunge her into darkness.
The door swung shut behind her with a heavy bang, sealing the shadows within. Her hands shakily gripped the railing along the ramp. Cool metal against her palms felt wonderfully grounding, giving her fingers something to squeeze until her nails dug into her skin. It was cold and it stung, but it wasn’t enough to fully shake the despair that clung to her heart. Each exhale was a ragged pant, gradually smoothing into a deeper breath as she calmed down. The outside was also dark, arguably darker than Warehouse B who had only lost one row of lighting, but it was just…safer. The security floodlights, the neon signs, the stars, the openness – it soothed her frantic thoughts in a way she couldn’t describe.
Just what the hell was any of that? One minute she was fooling around with pallets, the next she was acting like a doomed gazelle in a nature documentary. Why, because of a fuse blowout? None of this kind of stuff ever bothered her before, yet now it was as if she needed a nightlight and security blanket just to make it through an overtime shift. Anxiety was a fickle thing, rearing its ugly head at the most inopportune times for little to no reason, much less for any reason that made sense. It was like Gregory and Ted had told her, she should be ecstatic to finish the last night of her internship, one step closer to having full certification in a field she enjoyed. So, why was she sinking deeper into disquietude as the final week stretched on? Did her brain no longer understand the difference between terror and excitement?
She blinked away the wetness in her eyes, rubbing the heels of her palms against them to staunch any pitiful tears before they could begin. With a sniffle, she took a final, stuttering inhale and slowly blew it out. That was better, she was better now. Her arms still shook and her nerves tingled under her skin, but she didn’t feel on the verge of going into cardiac arrest anymore. Now, she just wanted to throw up what meager food she had in her system. Not only that, but she wanted to go home. She wanted to drink something strong. She wanted to lay down in bed for thirty-seven hours. She wanted…
…she wanted to close that goddamn motherfucking gate.
Unbelievable, un-freaking-believable. Well, not that unbelievable, but still. How in the hell was her manager going to sit there and try to placate her worries that there might have been a break in, that someone might have been tampering with things around the building, when nobody could be bothered to close the propertyline gate for the past three days minimum. Yeah, no wonder someone felt like they had free access to WerTech Production Headquarters; the employees there routinely left the locked doors wide open for anyone to wander in! If there were any late night thieves, they had half their heist planned for them when it came to securing an entry point and getaway.
Fear muddled into misplaced anger, heating her veins enough to thaw the chill that previously ran down her spine. Stupid gate, stupid stupid stupid gate, the bane of her existence for the last three nights. If she had never seen that it was open while throwing out the trash, she never would have inadvertently sent herself spiraling down the rabbit hole of what-ifs relating to her mysteriously violent demise. Such a strange thing to fixate on, yet one undoubtedly about to be on the receiving end of her frustration as she marched through the backlot towards it. She didn’t know why it was open, if it served some vital purpose that may or may not cause issues for her former coworkers come Monday morning. She didn’t care. This place wasn’t her problem anymore at the stroke of eight o’clock.
The closer she got to the fence, the more of its shape she could make out against the inky backdrop of evening. Twists of steel wires and towering poles became defined with each step, the opening in its chain links giving the illusion that it was gaping wider and wider as her perspective shifted from the distance. And as she raised her arm to grab hold of the accursed gate, ready to slam it shut with all the might she could muster to help ease a fraction of her vexation, she came to the startling conclusion that it was more open than she had anticipated. Not just opened – completely peeled backwards like a tin lid off of a can. The metal was mangled back and upwards as if it had been carelessly pulled from the ground. Support bars meant to take the impact of a wayward vehicle with only a few dents were bent at a multitude of angles.
This kind of damage shouldn’t be possible, not unless it was a big rig plowing through at top speed. Even then, the fence wasn’t smashed or bulging like it had been hit by something going out, rather it was deliberately torn open by something wanting to come in. But there were no signs of tire tracks or skid marks, no abrasion to any of the shipping containers that would have been hit in its path, no mention around the office about any kind of big machinery accident on site. That led to the conclusion that either this destruction of property was old news long before Serena’s employment…
Or it happened too recently for anyone to take notice, simplifying assuming the gate was cracked open when looking from the bay doors.
“What…the fuck,” Seriously. For every instance she explained away, three more appeared in its place like a hydra.
She couldn’t begin to fathom what kind of incident was able to do this much damage, yet so little at the same time, kept only to a small corner of the fencing. How long ago had it happened, how deliberately was it done?
Ted might know, loathe as she was to give him props for anything. Being one of the four rotational security guards, he of all people would either have been present or informed of any type of vandalism on company grounds. In fact, he could probably pull up the archived footage of when it happened to give her a definitive answer. Was it truly worth the mental strength she’d need to expend to willingly ask Ted for a favor? It would be so much simpler to let the issue go and finish up the last half hour of her overtime hiding in the bathroom. She could forget it, be done with it, let WerTech handle themselves as they pleased.
But dammit did she need to know if her gut instinct had been right since Wednesday.
The walk of shame back towards the side entry made her wonder if she should have gone ahead and left through the tear in the fence. Embrace her new life in the small, woodland strip between textile businesses, content to never look at a computer screen or human being for the rest of her days. Instead, she got to enjoy the feeling of a stone dropping into her stomach every inch she came closer to the building until she was worried she might be weighed down through the asphalt. The building itself wasn’t the monster she was afraid of, it was what it hid in its darkened halls and empty rooms that made her squirm. And some of the people. And the abysmal pay, or lack thereof for interns working overtime.
Forgoing the door back into Warehouse B, Serena opted to use the side entrance that dropped her between the security office and conference room. Raising her hand to knock on the door made her feel braver than any American soldier deployed into battle.
“Ted?” she asked. “You there?”
“Sure am,” a voice called back and a moment later the door was opened. He smiled, gesturing for her to come into a small, enclosed space with him in private. She stubbornly stayed hovering in the doorframe. “Ready to wrap it up?”
“Yeah, almost, um…do you know anything about the busted gate out back? That’s all, like,” she jumbled her hands in explanation.
Ted raised an eyebrow. “Busted gate?”
Oh, that wasn’t reassuring at all. “Yeah, past the dumpster and the trailers. It looked like something just…plowed through it? I didn’t know if maybe there had been an accident or…?”
“First I’m hearing about it,” he shrugged. “Could have had something to do with the fire truck here this morning if I had to guess. Maybe they backed up too far. Pretty shitty if they didn’t say anything to anyone before they left, though.”
A fire truck was big, but not big enough to rip up metal fencing unless it was being hurled through it. “Could you…check? Like, the cameras?”
“Now?”
“...yeah.”
“I mean, we don’t even know what day or time it happened, that’s hours of footage.”
“Right, but, you should check, shouldn’t you? Isn’t the whole point of being a security guard to actually guard the building?”
His mild confusion morphed into a smirk that was a little too patronizing for her taste. “Ah, I getcha, you’re freaked out about that break-in possibility, aren’t you?”
Caught red handed. The way she averted her eyes to the floor and ducked her burning face made Ted snort.
“No, hey, don’t worry about it, I get where you’re coming from,” he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. “I think Greg’s full of crap. No one breaks in, moves a couple desks to the left, and leaves.”
“What about the breaker box? He said it looked like it had been mauled,” she pressed.
“Yeah, it was smoldering for hours, of course it’s gonna get fucked up.”
“And the gate…?”
“Like I said – fire truck. Or one of the vendor semis when they picked up a load. Some dumbass in a big truck, either way.”
She chewed her lower lip while she absorbed his harmless explanations. Ted said everything so calmly, so effortlessly, with zero hesitation because he truly believed there was nothing to worry about no matter who said what. She wished she was able to take in and hold on to those nonchalant vibes, but her paranoia refused to believe anything had that simple of an answer. Nothing was a coincidence, nothing was just the wind, nothing had a logical reason; nothing made sense!
“Serena? Hey,” she hadn’t realized she was trembling until Ted wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. When had he gotten up? When had her nose begun to burn with the threat of tears? “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No,” she choked out. “No, I’m not fucking okay.”
Before the security guard could ask her what was the matter, all of her anxiety was spilling from her mouth in a watery ramble that she couldn’t stop. “I feel like I’m losing my mind here, like, literally going insane. I keep, I keep thinking I see things to the point I run out the damn door so that I don’t have to be in the dark, like there’s actually a-a boogeyman after me.” She took a gulp of air and let it out in a humorless laugh. “And I’m twenty-six, I’m twenty-six goddamn years old and I’m worried about monsters in the closets but it’s not in the closets it’s everywhere in this fucking building when I’m alone.”
Her breathing was becoming shallower with every cluster of words she forced out in a single breath. “And I don’t know where this came from! It just, it started so suddenly and I don’t know why but it makes me feel like my heart is about to explode and that I’m being watched and I’m scared, Ted, I’m so fucking scared for no reason, but I don’t know what to do, I can’t, I can’t tell anyone because I know nothing is wrong but something is wrong and I just, I-I…”
“Hey, hey,” he interrupted her, squeezing his arm tighter around her shaking frame to break her out of her rant. She should shrug him off, worry about how she would need to scrub her skin raw in the shower tonight to get rid of his touch. At this point in time, she couldn’t care less where her comfort came from, so long as it was someone who believed her.
“I’m sorry,” she sniveled, burying her face in her hands to hide her humiliated tears. “I don’t, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Nothing’s wrong with you. I mean, a lot’s wrong with you, but, like, not in a way that’s your fault, you get what I mean?”
Strangely enough, she did, so she gave a weak little nod.
“Sounds like you’re having your first burn out,” he rubbed his hand down her arm. “College girl, shitty internship, apparently thinks those gross fruit bars taste good…I’m surprised you hadn’t snapped sooner.”
She pulled away from his hug and scrubbed her face, ignoring how his hand lingered on her back. Give a man an inch and he’ll take a mile, as they say. “I think this place is cursed.”
Ted sniggered. “Oh, yeah, definitely, like, twenty people brutally died here in the eighties.”
“What.”
“I’m kidding! No, this place sucks for a lot of reasons, but I promise we don’t hire shadow walkers or whatever.”
“You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen on the cameras was when Tiarra’s bra broke during a board meeting and everything just went fwomp.” He made sure to pantomime with his hands how her breasts sagged exaggeratedly to her midriff.
Yep, there was classic Ted. His decency towards women was nice while it lasted. At least the distaste Serena felt blocked out her overwhelming nervousness. Just being able to vent her frustration and cry it out had eased a considerable weight from her chest with some significance. Ted would have much more luck wooing the girls in the office if he could pull his head out of his ass more often and listen instead of drooling.
She was saved by the bell when in the distance a landline rang from one of the offices. They both shared a look, unsure of who could possibly be calling at this hour. Serena peeked down the hall to get a better listen, only coming to the assumption that it must be one of the desk phones ringing in the finance office. What a strange time to want to call and ask for a rebate program.
“Just let them leave a voicemail,” Ted said. “and I’ll tell you what – how about you and I take a walk around the building, check out the gate and the lights and whatever you want, and then we grab dinner together?”
The first half sounded okay, but the second half of his offer made her wince. “I don’t know about that…”
“It’s just to show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of,” he reassured her, assuming her apprehension was because she was still too shaken up to want to venture into dark corners and not because the idea of going on a date with him repulsed her. “And if there is anything out there, I promise that I’ll hit it really, really hard with my nightstick for you.”
“I…” The phone continued to ring, its shrill tone echoing down the hall. It should have cut off by now, unless the caller redialed again. Persistent, weren’t they? That must mean it was either vitally important or the most asinine thing anyone had to ask. She sighed. “I should go get that. It might be Gregory.”
“I doubt it.”
She shrugged, inching her way out the door for her grand escape from this awkward conversation. “Better safe than sorry. You can be my human meat shield after.”
Thankfully, Ted didn’t try to trail after her. Probably sulking or plotting how to get Serena to agree for a little late night rendezvous. Hell no. She was going to answer the phone, send her last email ever to mark her time, and get the hell out of here. Even if Ted had been the handsome charmer he thought himself to be, she didn’t have the energy to be in someone else’s presence for any remainder of the night. At this rate, it would be a miracle she didn’t just flop on her couch and stay comatosed until Tuesday.
As she guessed, the phone was ringing from her office enclosure. More than that, it was her deskphone that was flashing red. Definitely Gregory, then, if not some insistent spam caller that was only getting through because she was the sole representative online in the system. Still, she didn’t want to assume in case it was someone who wasn’t her manager but had equal importance. She was courteous and professional, after all, as her supervisor comments better damn well say.
–
[Phone Call Transcript]
Note: This is not a real call. Abnormality is using its technological interference to lure Subject away.
[0:00:05] Boyd: Thank you for calling WerTech Productions, this is Serena, how may I help you?
[0:00:27] Unknown Caller: …
[0:00:43] Boyd: Hello?
[0:00:46] Unknown Caller: …
[0:00:51] Boyd: Hello? Are you there?
Note: Building experiences a second total blackout at this time, however the phone line remains connected. CCTV cameras remain functional as well.
[0:00:57] - Call Terminated by Unknown Caller
–
“Crap, again!?”
The dial tone hung in the air as she tossed the receiver onto her desk, not bothering to hang it up. Having one operating phone line on the grid must have been the breaker’s final straw if the lights in Warehouse B were anything to go by. Of course it would be another system failure right when she was about to leave despite running smoothly enough when everyone was bustling about during the day. Her only good fortune was that she stashed the flashlight she used yesterday in one of her drawers. She had to knock it against the edge of the cubicle divider to help the dying batteries hold on for a little longer before it was ready to lead the way out of this hellhole for a second time.
Swinging the beam into the hallway, she couldn’t detect any of the furniture having jumped out of place like before, which was already an improvement.
“Ted?” she called out. “Ted? Hey, let’s just forget it and go home. I’m sick of this place.”
He didn’t answer her. Maybe the office door was closed and he couldn’t hear her, or maybe he’d gone to check the breaker himself. Regardless, she still needed him to walk out of the building with her so she could call Gregory about the grand sucky finale of her night without being accused of abandoning him and creating a hostile work environment. With a huff, she walked towards the security room, wrinkling her nose at how quickly the air turned stale.
“C’mon, I’m done. I’ll tell Greg this place is about to burn down again when we leave.”
Nothing. Not even the squeak of a rolling chair or shuffling behind the door. He must not be in the office. Great, because going on a wild goose chase for a guy she could barely stand in a dark, stuffy building was the one thing she had always wanted to do. It wasn’t like she hadn’t just had a miniature crisis about this damn place giving her the heebie jeebies.
“Ted, I’m leaving,” she tried again. To hell with it, she’ll just write him a message on a sticky note and let him figure out the rest.
The thickness in the air swirled into a bitter aroma, enough that it coated the back of her throat with something unpleasantly tangy. Gross, had something started leaking, maybe spoiling? She hadn’t smelt anything unusual during last night’s power outage; something internal must have gotten fried during round two. Be it melting wall insulation or a busted gas main, she wasn’t inclined to breathe in slightly noxious, possible toxic fumes longer than need be. If the security guard wanted to go gallivanting through the halls until the whole place exploded from sparks and vapor, he could be her gu-
“Oh…oh my god. Oh my god.”
It wasn’t until her flashlight reflected off the floor in front of the security office did she understand where the source of the stench was coming from. In the dark, the thick liquid had blended in with the abstract pattern of the hall tiles. Now that she was closer, however, a puddle was clearly spreading from the doorway, the bright red color glaringly obvious once the light was on it. Splatters and droplets sprayed around the main pool all the way from the threshold to the corridor wall. What was worse was that it wasn’t just wetness, but gooey chunks darkening certain spots to almost appear black.
Thank god she didn’t have a bigger meal in her stomach or Serena would be adding a second mixture of bodily fluids to the floor.
A hand flew to her mouth, muffling a scream, holding back a gag, unable to tear her eyes away from what was undoubtedly a fatal amount of blood seeping into the grout.
“Ted!? Ted, this isn’t funny!” It has to be a joke. It had to be a sick, cruel prank that he was playing on her after she had just gushed about the ominous feeling WerTech gave her lately. Gregory was probably in on it, too, maybe the whole office as well. A carefully orchestrated trick they had spaced out over seventy-two hours to make Serena feel like she was going crazy.
Certainly not because something bad had actually happened.
“Please, please, Ted, just…just fucking answer me!” she cried, her voice catching in her throat at the tailend of her sentence. “We’ll go home, we’ll go on that stupid date, please, just come out!”
The flashlight shook violently in her hand no matter how hard she squeezed the yellow plastic. Its beam may as well have been better suited on a rave dance floor with how frantically it moved from the floors to the walls to the doors. Past the initial pool of gore, it illuminated a trail of blood that streaked down the rest of the hallway in a shape roughly the same width of Ted. He’d been dragged off, mortally wounded if not already a goner. Every part of Serena screamed at her to run, smash her way out of the front windows if she had to, but she couldn’t. Not without Ted. She couldn’t…fuck, she couldn’t leave him to die, not if there was a chance to save him. He was a sleaze, but he was still a person.
And even if he was a lost cause, he should still have his baton and service weapon on his utility belt. She didn’t know where their assailant was, so she needed all the help she could find to be prepared. It wouldn’t do her any good to make it to an exit just for someone with a hatchet to be blocking the way. Could a hatchet even do this kind of lethal damage? Definitely not in one blow; Ted would have had to have been hacked consecutively to – no, no, no, she was not going to think about that she was not going to envision that.
Each exhale came out as a whimper, a clear struggle that she was barely keeping herself from breaking down into sobs. What was she going to find, what was going to find her? She had to push forward, despite the squeal in her throat when she had to step over the sticky red puddle and hope to god none of it stuck to her shoes. She kept her back angled towards the wall as she shuffled along the trail, hoping to protect herself from any unseen attack while keeping as much distance as she could from the blood trail mere inches from her steps. It smeared to the left at the hallway’s junction, heading towards the storage wing before disappearing through the open door of Storage One.
Just from the doorway, she could see the sparks flickering from the breaker box, though not nearly as fervently as it did before. Enough to light up a corner of the room with a flash every few seconds, but nothing else.
“Ted…?” she whispered. “Ted, are you…are you there? Are you…h-hurt?”
Obviously he was hurt. Obviously he was dead if that much blood was outside of his body. But what if it wasn’t his blood? What if he was alright, the true savior of the day that had already dispatched the convicts who tried to get the jump on him as part of their three-day master plan?
Any kind of stupid hope her mind tried to supply to block out the mounting trauma was dashed when she shone her flashlight through the door. She could see his legs on the floor, pants torn and soaked with his own blood, and when she fully stepped into the storage room to look at the rest of him, she wailed.
He was desecrated beyond recognition, resembling pulp more than a man. The entire right side of his body had been ravaged to the point Serena couldn’t tell if it was missing or simply turned to mush and smeared along the floor. Bones were broken and jutting through the skin, skewering organs that spilled out from the absent side. They, too, were tangled between themselves and hunks of muscles that were torn from the bone. His head…his head was the worst, by far. The skull was caved in at his forehead until it was practically flattened, causing graymatter to splatter like a rotten grape. Bloodied eyes popped out of their sockets to forever stare at nothing while his jaw was misaligned around a swollen tongue.
Every orifice oozed with red, the flow having already slowed to a trickle from his nose and ears given that there wasn’t much left to drain from his remains. Any scream Serena wanted to let out was trapped as a silent sob in her chest, unable to process the sight in front of her. Ted hadn’t just been killed, he had been slaughtered. Whoever did this had done so with an ungodly amount of rage and strength, unless it had been carried out by a depraved group of individuals lost in the bloodlust. She didn’t know what was worse: to be outnumbered, or to go against the brutality of a single attacker.
“Oh god…oh god…”
God was not going to save her.
She allowed herself two mournful sobs before she forced herself to back away from the sight on wobbling legs. It wasn’t safe here, she couldn’t stick around to grieve unless she wanted to rest ending up the same way. She needed to get out of here, drive as far and as fast as she could, and call every police department in the tristate area for help. And she needed to do it now before she was caught next.
She turned around and she screamed.
There was no way she could have possibly missed that…that thing in the corner staring down at her with those awful eyes. Wide and yellow, glowing against the backdrop of black, with ringlets of red that were evocative to a bullseye at a carnival game booth. But no, that wasn’t it; it was the fact that the eyes towered so, so high above her all the way to the fifteen foot ceiling. Its frame was swallowed up by the darkness of the room courtesy of the blackout, only faint outlines of what she assumed were its arms and neck visible from the pinprick beam of her flashlight ghosting over its massive form. It was like the shadows blended into its skin as the perfect camouflage to the point its own body could hardly be made out when flush against itself.
And somehow, that still wasn’t what sent Serena over the edge. Not this giant fucking monstrosity looming over her, not her coworker’s mangled corpse behind her, not that fact that such a creature should be impossible to exist in the first place, not the realization that it was somehow able to squeeze into the room with no visible damage to the doorways that were meant to accommodate a ten foot height at most, not the fact that her intuition about something being so terrible wrong the last couple days was right.
But because Ted’s arm, from his broken fingers to the intact joint of his shoulder, was hanging out of its mouth.
The contrast of gore on skin and charcoal color of the jacket’s sleeve was the only way she could make out the line of its top lip. White fangs poked out from the corners of its mouth due to being slightly parted by the limb snatched in its teeth, likely held fast by smaller but equally sharp dentition. If it weren’t for the fact something was between its lips, she wouldn’t have even realized there were any features on its face besides its dizzying eyes, the shapes also obscured by its inky coloring. If it even had any in the same arrangement that a human would.
It tilted its head to the side, unperturbed by her sharp cry at its appearance. The movement caused blood to dribble from the stump of Ted’s arm and patter on the ground like rain, splashing at her ankles. Instinctively, she stumbled back to create a sense of distance between the viscera and the monster who had created it. Unfortunately, there was still the matter of Ted’s near inside-out body directly behind her. Too focused on the terrifying sight in front of her, she didn’t watch where she stepped and squished the remnants of a liver (or maybe the kidneys? Could be the stomach.) under her heel. Her foot slipped out from under her in a way that was reminiscent of the way she fell after dropping the pitcher of water in the lobby.
Like before, its eyes watched her unblinkingly. Like before, she cried out at the feeling of liquid seeping into her clothing. The difference this time was that the creature didn’t disappear without a trace and she was far more distressed at the sticky warmth that stuck to her body from her lower back to her thighs. She tried to scramble out of the meaty pile, but her hands kept slipping in the blood and the sensation of guts squelching between her fingers made her recoil. All she could do was mewl such weak little sobs until her shaking limbs found enough purchase to pull her against the wall. She could move no further back, gain no extra footage between herself and the monster.
It knew that just as well as Serena.
“No, no,” she croaked, watching as the creature slunk out of the deepest shadows that concealed it so well towards her. The flashlight wasn’t close to being powerful enough to unveil its entire body structure, but despite nearly slipping out of her shaky hold from the blood, she could see a few details that were missed in the darkness.
For one, it wasn’t just as tall as the ceiling. It was even larger with what looked like legs bent into a crouch to help it fit within the confined space. The hands that inched closer to where Serena was huddled had wicked points at the end of long fingertips, scratching along the concrete. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around how such an enormous being was able to hide itself in a compact storage room when there was no conceivable way it could have fit through either of the doors. Unless, somehow, it had made its own opening with such skill that there wasn’t a trace of demolition.
A rumbling noise made Serena shrink back into the false safety of her corner. It was deep and throaty, something between a growl and a purr. Not inherently hostile, but not remotely comforting in the slightest. From what she could tell, it hadn’t yet entirely extended itself forward and already the creature had invaded her personal space as a testament to its full height.
“Please,” she whined, her tearful brown eyes pleading with its two-toned stare. “Please…”
Please don’t kill me. Please let me go. Please make it quick and painless. Please please please–
It opened its mouth just enough to drop the severed arm at her feet. It would have landed in her lap had her knees not been drawn to her chest in a vain attempt to shield herself should the creature strike.
She gagged hard enough that her whole body flinched, bile burning in her throat but swallowed back down. She pressed harder into the wall and willed herself the sudden ability to phase through solid objects with no luck. Was it better or worse to know that while Ted had been horrifically mauled, it didn’t seem like much of him was eaten as it was pulverized. Was it a more dignified death to be reduced to monster food or a sludge of innards? At least in the case of the second option, their families would have something to bury, even if it could all be scooped in a shoebox.
Again, it made a noise at her. Softer, like a croon of encouragement, perhaps for her to accept the shared meal of her coworker as her last.
To think, not even an hour ago, that was the same arm that Ted wrapped around her in comfort. It was the same arm that held her close to his body while it was still warm and, for just a moment, made her feel protected from the horrors lurking around the corner. There was nothing it could defend her from now.
Serena bit her lip to stifle a moan of anguish. “S-stop, stop, please, get…g-get that away from me.” When the monster didn’t comply with her request, she kicked her leg out from her arm to shove the appendage back. “Get away!”
It tilted its head and rumbled in response to her. She shuddered, unsure what it was trying to ask of her, if it was capable of conversation to begin with. All animals had some sort of intelligence, but that didn’t always equate to morality, much less the complexity of human ethics. Not to mention, this creature was like no animal she had ever seen. She hadn’t known something like this could have ever existed, except maybe a million feet below sea level where the fish were all the more ghastly and colossal. This thing was just…unnatural. Nothing about it fit into a single category enough to be plausible. Like it didn’t belong in this world.
If you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back and wow was that feeling more literal than Serena previously imagined. The eyes that wanted to swallow her up were like floodlights in contrast to the void that was the rest of the monster. It was like it was the personification of a blackhole, pulling the darkness around itself as a cloak and uncaring what was demolished in its hunger. Slowly, it bowed its arms to lower itself in front of her, eyes never leaving her once. She couldn’t look away, her mind was memorized by the glow of colors. It was almost too late when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Its hand cocked and reaching, so close to brushing against her side
Adrenaline pumped through her as if it had been shot directly into her heart. Without a second thought, she twisted away from the clawed fingers before they were able to dig into her flesh, scrambling to pull herself up. Her back hit a hard metal and she didn’t hesitate to grab it off the wall. Small and cylindrical; a fire extinguisher. It was dubious to think a little bit of suppression foam would be the single weakness for a beast of unknown forces, but she didn’t need a total knock out; merely a distraction.
Pin pulled, hose aimed, trigger squeezed – all before the creature had a chance to cage her in. Dense, white mist sprayed into the air, thickening into a light froth that shot directly at its face. It reared back, more out of shock than pain, she imagined, and snarled. If it weren’t for the fact her nerves were already shifted into overdrive to get her moving, she may have frozen with the way the reverb rocked her bones. The monster squeezed its eyes shut to avoid the blast of foam that splattered its face white in a continuous hiss. Now being powdered with the color contrast of its inky hue, she was able to pick out more of its face that she could see previously. Creased eyelids and a pinched brow, tufts of fur that covered from its forehead to its cheekbones like a head of hair, the bridge of a nose, lips curled back to reveal horrifically sharp daggers.
Almost human.
But the wrong kind of human.
Human in the way some fish had two rows of flat teeth that looked like a grin, or how a monkey could stand and walk upright while dragging limbs that were too long, or when an animal’s muzzle deformed to give the appearance of a drooped nose and protruding chin. Things that belonged at the rock bottom of the uncanny valley, that had no business existing as features on anything but a human being. Whatever this thing was, it was too far removed to be a recognizable person, no matter what kind of mask it wore.
While it was vigorously shaking its head to dislodge the foam blinding its eyes, Serena hurled the empty extinguisher to the side in hopes its resounding impact could be mistaken as her. She didn’t bother to wait and see if her bid for a few extra seconds was successful, using her head start to fly out the double doors to her right that led into Warehouse A. Her hand all but punched the emergency fire alarm –
[Note: All emergency calls and alerts have been deactivated by wireless jammers. Requests are transferred to ABC’s mock services and responded with trained personnel.]
– as she sprinted down one of the middle aisles towards the main entrance back into the offices. A piercing siren rang in every room of the building, strobes of red flashing in time to the beat. The echo in the warehouse only made the noise all the more ear bleeding, but she worry too much with how it made her head throb. A migraine was nothing in comparison to being eviscerated by a very nightmarish, very pissed off being from hell that now had a personal vendetta against her. Around her, the surroundings were briefly illuminated in red as the fire alarm screamed for evacuation, only to plunge into total darkness a second later, repeating the cycle. Being able to see, if only for a few moments at a time, was already a godsend.
But when the world blinked away with each pause of the alarm’s wail, her heart skipped a beat, knowing that was all the creature needed to be virtually invisible to her. Despite the stretch she ran at a speed that would make track stars envious, it didn’t take long for the monster to be hot on her heels. Maybe it was because the alarm was so harsh, or because she could only hear breathing in her ears, or something in the middle of the spectrum, but she hadn’t caught the slightest sound that could have been it thrashing its way out of the storage room to give chase. There was no way it should have been able to wriggle through the warehouse doors, even if it crawled on its stomach, without tearing half the wall out as well.
Had it just…materialized? Poofed out of thin air into the next room over?
There wasn’t much time to dwell on the schematics of the monster chasing her. She could make up all the hypotheses she wanted after she had gotten to safety. If she made it to safety.
For something so large, it was incredibly light on its feet, barely a tremor on the ground as it pursued behind. Hell, the only reason Serena had realized it was catching up with her was because its shadow was revealed in a flash of red along the racks of shipping crates. She yelped at the proximity and dodged into the open shelving under one of the aisle racks, shoving over a cart of loose hardware fasteners in her haste. Being over in the next row didn’t deter the monster in the slightest. Its arm swiped through the third tier of the rack, sending heavy boxes wrapped in plastic film to rain down on her. She yelped, her arms bracing over her head as she continued to pump her legs faster to avoid being struck.
Metal groaned under a weight it was not designed to hold. In a flurry of movement, more pallets stored on the upper shelves came crashing to the ground behind her. She could feel the shrapnel of scattering components and splintered wood smack the back of her legs, a near miss from dropping on top of her and shattering her spine on impact. Whether it was stupid or not, she risked throwing a glance behind her to see what the creature was plotting with its makeshift avalanche. To her horror, it had climbed up the shelves to perch almost thirty feet above, making the steel buckle and shake to support its large stature.
It leapt from the rack on her left to the one on her right, causing even more inventory to go sailing to the ground with a crash. The shelves barely held together from the landing and Serena feared it may go falling in a domino effect on top of her with the way it swayed and screeched. Regardless, the monster didn’t break its stride to pounce forward down the row and purposely send industrial coils of wire careening over the edge. Because it had gained a few feet of lead, something it could have done when she was well within its reach on the floor, she was able to skid to a halt as supplies rained down right in front of her. The forced stop was exactly as it intended, blocking her front and back path along the aisle with smashed stock.
She thought herself so clever when she squeezed between the gap of shelving units to be back down her original route. The door was straight ahead, just a few more paces, and there were no more racks on either side of her to potentially block her in with debris. Unfortunately, slipping through lower openings was a trick the monster already picked up on mere moments ago. If her lungs didn’t burn like every inhale was ablaze, she might have had the air to scream when it sprung down to land between her and the door. Most of the white powder had dissipated from its face, leaving only its eyes as the key feature to look at.
Whether washed out in a red light or hidden in the void of black, the only thing Serena could consistently see was its goddamn eyes.
Her body moved on its own accord before her brain could think of firing off an order. She thought maybe, since she was so small and it was so close, she could juke the creature by running around it to circle back towards the door. There was no time to formulate a plan B when her only options were fight or flight. And ‘fight’ might as well be renamed to ‘instant suicide’. What she hadn’t accounted for in her brilliant scheme for survival was a long, thick appendage to strike against her whole body when she veered from its crouched legs. The collision sent her flying backwards, all of the air being knocked from her lungs and leaving her breathless. In that moment, her shock overtook her brain in a daze, making her forget she was currently being flung off by some type of crime against nature in favor of noting a few new observations.
A tail…it had a freaking tail, one that tapered off like a reptile.
The texture under her hands was smooth but with a slight give, like velvet. Was this what covered the rest of the creature’s exterior?
It had arms like a human – hands and elbows and shoulders that connected to a torso. But its limbs from the waist down were wrong. Its legs looked to bend at an extra angel, each length of bone too long to match human proportions. It was more akin to the hindleg of a dog, which made it easier to move while crouched.
Human, reptile, dog. What the hell kind of amalgamation was its physique, and how was such a fusion pos–
Her back crashed into the side of a shelving unit with a thud, snapping away her ponderings that only existed for the four seconds she was airborne. She felt her teeth crack together when her head hit a metal crossbeam while the taste of blood filled her mouth from an unknown source. Some sort of choked grunt escaped her lips on impact, but when she crumpled to the floor she could hardly muster a wheeze. No matter how desperately she tried to suck in air, her lungs refused to work, worsening the burn of suffocation in her throat. Stars blotted around the edge of her vision and what she could see kept splitting into blurry doubles. Blinking only made it worse.
It was a good thing she was curled on her stomach as she turned her head and retched. Hardly anything but yellow bile and spit was thrown up, the spasming of her diaphragm making her ribs stab with agony. She made the most miserable sound of pain that could be forced out of her. Everything hurt so fucking much. Her head was swimming, her legs throbbed from exertion, her back ached with the onset of a wicked bruise darkening the skin from her shoulders to her tailbone. Breathing was like inhaling glass. Crying was like setting a firecracker off behind her eyes. In the back of her mind, some basic health class she had taken as an elective course unhelpfully reminded her that pain was good. It meant nothing was numb from blood loss or nerve damage or just completely ripped from her body. It meant she was alive.
She wasn’t so sure she wanted to be alive right now.
How much pain did Ted endure before he succumbed to his wounds? Had it been quick, or was this merely a fraction of the torture he was put through. This alone was pushing Serena past her limits of what she thought she could handle. There was no way she’d be able to stomach anything more brutal than a flick of the monster’s tail.
She coughed wetly once her lungs had regained the function to breathe, even if it was only shallow gasps. Through her fringe of curls that had fallen over her face, she dared to look at the creature. It looked right back at her. With shame, she could only imagine how downright pitiful she looked from its point of view. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were wet with tears and runny mascara, blood was smeared from a busted lip onto her chin when she wiped away the dribbles of vomit from her mouth. She was half curled in a fetal position while every inch of her trembled in various amounts of pain. By all accounts, she had clearly conceded to being captured by a predator.
And if the monster was pleased by that, Serena had no way of knowing, because all she had to go off of were unblinking eyes that stared at her with unbridled fascination. Was it impressed by her will to live, or was it simply salivating after working up an appetite?
“Wh-what…” she rasped. “Wh-what do you want…f-from me…?”
That got the creature’s attention. Really, its attention had always been locked solely on her, but her attempt to provoke a conversation had garnered a quick reaction. It crooned, a stark contrast to the growl it had made when she sprayed extinguisher foam in its face. She couldn’t tell if it was trying to mimic comfort or condescension, either way the low rumble made her break out into goosebumps. It inched closer in that same slow, deliberate way it had tried in the storage room, its body low to the floor as if there was any chance of them being on the same non-threatening eye level.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a tremble in her voice. “What do you want?”
It didn’t answer. It might not even understand. The only response it offered was another, quieter croon when its face was less than a foot from her. To her absolute horror, the creature parted its lips enough for slivers of white to show, only for those, too, to open further and a long, black tongue to slither out.
She paled, eyes wide in terror. “N-no…no, no, please, god, no!”
Her cries for mercy fell on deaf ears as the creature leaned down.
“No, no, don’t, please, I don’t want, ple - AH! NO!”
Warmth spread along her back and dripped down her collarbone. Thicker than water, thicker than blood; she felt like glue was being poured along the length of her spine and allowed to leak in the crooks of her arm and neck. The weight of the creature’s tongue squished against her thighs and stroked up to her hair, drenching her more with each pass. A shiver of disgust ran through her bones at the sensation of saliva slicking her curls to the nape of her neck. She cried out to make her extreme displeasure known, trying to turn her head enough that spit wouldn’t dribble down her face, but it was of little consequence to the monster.
In fact, the continuous reverb that echoed in its chest indicated it was quite pleased with this development. It must enjoy the taste of sweat and misery because she couldn’t imagine she had anything else to offer its palette. If it weren’t for the fact she was being licked by a ravenous monster that had already shredded one person and had her next on the menu, the soft pressure and heat trailing over her would have felt wonderful for her aching muscles. Instead, it only made her tense and squirm, putting more strain on her body that begged for a moment to recover. When she managed to wriggle half a foot away, the creature paused its lapping to grab hold of her soaked blouse with its teeth and drag her back to her original spot.
The feeling of teeth pressing into her lower back, only for a second, was enough to kick start her adrenal gland into high gear once more. She could already envision them clamping down through her flesh for the first bite now that it had had its fill of savoring her. A phantom pain blossomed along her shoulder blade from the imagery of meat being scraped from the bone. No, no, no, she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to go out like that. In the short distance she had dragged herself on her arms, she threw out a hand and grabbed hold of a jagged two by four that split from a pallet when it shattered thirty feet below. Splinters from the raw wood dug into her fingers, but the sting was ignored as she pulled it close to her chest.
Endorphins dulled the pain radiating through her enough that she felt a renewed surge of strength tingle in her muscles. Not wanting to give the creature a chance to resume its tasting, Serena twisted around and swung the wooden shard like a bat. Its mouth was still hovered over her in the transition of nipping and licking, taking the full whack to its lips and teeth. Even if the hit didn’t do too much damage, the slivers of rough wood would surely stab into its gums as little splinters it would have to claw out. The board cracked against one of its fangs, causing it to bark at the unexpected pain shooting down its jaw.
Its head snapped to the side following the motion. The tongue that had been happily gliding over Serena now prodded at the tooth she hit, swiping around the gum to feel for swelling or bleeding. She would have loved to relish in her minor victory of causing any miniscule amount of discomfort to a monster she thought was indomitable, but that celebration would have to hold off. As soon as its attention was diverted by the shock of being struck, she rolled out from under its looming form and clambered onto her feet in a mad dash for the office doors. It growled sharply at her retreating figure once it saw where she had fled, though that didn’t stop her from disappearing into the main building and smashing the automatic lock button on the keypad.
Would a flimsy internal mechanism keep out a forty-some foot tall being from clawing through a single door? No. Especially not if it really didn’t need to use human entrances to go from one room to another. Still, it provided a tiny bit of security that her mind needed to cling to to stay sane a little while longer. She turned to make a break for it down the hall, only to slam her knees on the edge of a copy machine from the customer service department.
The furniture had been moved again, pulled from walls and offices to create a maze of obstacles that couldn’t be solved with a straight line.
When the hell had it managed this!? It was clearly a set up meant to delay her escape long enough that the monster could catch up to her. Which meant last night, when it had done the same thing, it had been pursuing her all the way out the front door without her even knowing. Well, no, she knew something was lurking around, but the new knowledge that it could have sprung on her at any given time and chose not to made her chest seize. Unlike then, however, the current total blackout was interrupted by a flashing fire alarm that lit up the hallway in timed bursts to guide her through. She bobbed and weaved between desks and machinery, vaulted over toppled chairs and sidestepped waste bins and boxes that tried to snag her foot.
Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the screech of metal followed by a cacophony of crashes muffled only by the siren still ringing throughout the building. Wherever the monster had manifested itself, it was soon to be closing in on its target as it barreled through the traps it laid for her. She knew there wouldn’t be enough time for her to make it to the main entry. It was bigger than her, faster, and as soon as it whipped around the corner and had her in its unsettling sight it would be game over. Her only hope was to hide and pray it couldn’t scent track. If she could just hold out long enough, maybe the fire department would be here soon to respond to the pulled alarm. And then, while the firefighters tried to keep the creature at bay with the water spray of their hose before being mauled, she might have a long enough diversion to slip out a back door.
Where the fuck was the fire department?
Up ahead, the open door to the finance office inspired a new idea in her rattled brain. Her phone line was still active, the caller didn’t hang up until after the power was cut. If she could find somewhere to stay out of view with the phone, she could call for a myriad of help. Police weren’t good for much, but they knew how to pack an artillery when the chance arose to use it.
Serena shut the door behind her and rushed to her desk, grabbing the phone, receiver and all, and tucked herself under a neighboring cubicle. This might be Janice’s desk. Or was it Jessica? It didn’t matter, it was going to serve as her impromptu shelter during a deadly game of hide and seek. She balled up her fist and bit her finger until she could even out her breathing into something less hysterical. As urgent as she wanted her call to come across, it still needed to be quiet and coherent for the dispatcher. When she was able to swallow down the lump in her throat, she used the same teeth indented finger to dial 911.
Outside, a watercooler shattered. The monster was clearing a path down the hall.
–
[Phone Call Transcript]
[0:00:03] ABC Operative: 911, what’s your emergency?
[0:00:06] Boyd: Please, I, I-I need help! I’m trapped, I can’t get out, there’s, th-there’s, it’s in the building with me!
[0:00:13] ABC Operative: Yes ma’am, but I’m going to need you to remain calm so we can send help. What’s your location?
[0:00:21] Boyd: I’m at WerTech Productions, [RETACTED], n-near the entrance, please, just get someone here!
[0:00:28] ABC Operative: We have officers in route. You’re saying there’s an intruder on the property?
[0:00:35] Boyd: Yes, yes, it’s been here! It’s been after me for days and it’s, oh fuck, oh my god…
[0:00:42] ABC Operative: Ma’am –
[0:00:43] Boyd: It killed the security guard. T-Ted Milton. It ripped him apart!
[0:00:49] ABC Operative: Medical will be dispatched. The intruder has a weapon, then?
[0:00:54] Boyd: No! N-no, no, it is the weapon, it’s…it’s not human! I-I don’t, I don’t know what it is but, please, please, you need to send more people! I can’t, I –
[0:01:08] ABC Operative: Ma’am, I need you to calm down. You are aware that you’ve called 911, correct?
[0:01:17] Boyd: Wh- yes! Yes, I need help, I’m going to die!
[0:01:23] ABC Operative: Are you on any substances or prescribed medications that may cause hallucinations as a side effect?
[0:01:30] Boyd: No!
[0:01:32] ABC: Are you possibly suffering from extreme mental distress?
[0:01:38] Boyd: Of fucking course I am! Something is hunting me down and you’re not listening to me! I’m serious, there’s something out there, i-it killed Ted! Fucking send someone before it finds me!
[0:01:51] ABC Operative: Are you currently in a secure location?
[0:01:56] Boyd: I-I’m hiding in one of the offices, but I can hear it nearby. I, I don’t think it knows where I am…
[0:02:03] ABC Operative: That’s good, try to remain in place until officers arrive on the scene.
[0:02:10] ABC Operative: [Off Screen] Now?
[0:02:14] - The National Emergency Alert System Signal is remotely played through the phone line and out of Subject’s earpiece speaker at 120 dBA
[0:02:16] Boyd: What? What is that?
[0:02:20] Boyd: Wh-, s-stop, stop, turn that off! It’s too loud, it’s going to hear you!
[0:02:26] Boyd: Please, please, stop!
[0:02:31] Boyd: Stop, hang up! Fucking–
–
“- hang up!”
No matter how frantically she slammed the handset down on the switch hook, she couldn’t get the sound to stop blaring from the speaker. In her desperation, she was more so trying to break the phone against its own base to cut off the awful noise. It was just as loud as the fire siren, all the more easier to hear over the shrieking white noise that had been deafening her for too long. Her eardrums throbbed, worsening the pressure behind her eyes from the headache she hadn’t been able to shake yet. She grabbed at the cord that trailed back to the telephone jack by her desk and yanked as hard as she could with a petulant whine.
The cable went taunt, but didn’t pop from the socket it was clipped into. She couldn’t get the leverage she needed for a strong enough pull. In a last ditch effort, she threw the phone system across the room to at least get it the fuck away from her as to not be so close of a pinpoint to her exact location. It didn’t go too far as it was still tethered by the phone jacket and clattered in a heap near the metal cabinets against the wall, continuing to scream. Serena wanted –
[Note: Because Subject was unable to end the call on her end, ABC Operators are still able to hear and record the final interaction via the wiretap as well.]
–to scream, too. So, she did. She threaded her fingers through her hair that was still damp with saliva and dug her nails into her roots and sobbed.
“Shut up, shut up!” she cried at the phone. “Please, stop!”
She cut off her miserable wailing with a stifled whimper, clasping her hands over her mouth like she was holding back even a single exhale from escaping. Right outside the door, she heard the creature make a low, pleased chitter. It found her. Maybe it always would have found her eventually, but in this case she knew her fate had been sealed by a dispatcher with clumsy fingers. Regardless of how many officers and EMTs and firefighters were sent, they’d never make it in time to save her before the monster had its way with her. If anyone was sent at all for anything but a wellness check on a delusional woman. She squeezed her eyes shut, though tears still found a way down her cheeks.
No one was coming for her.
Between the alert blaring from the phone speaker and the fire alarm playing in surround sound, it was impossible for her to strain her hearing for the creature. It was loud when it wanted to be, as demonstrated by its vocals and disregard for office equipment that was in its way, yet it could be whisper quiet in the same breath when it was on the prowl. How many times had it trailed behind her when she was none the wiser? Always out of sight, but always within reach. She held her breath until her lungs burned, just in case a sniffle gave her away. Who knows what other unfair advantages the thing may have over her.
For a moment, there was nothing, only two alarms whooping in tandem in an empty office. In that period, Serena felt she was hyperware of everything but the monster. She could feel how her ruined blouse stuck to her back with spit that had significantly cooled, she could smell Ted’s blood that still flaked off the hands around her mouth, she could hear every swallow crackle in her ears while trying to silence any stray sob. Time stretched from seconds to minutes, just as when she had been thrown into the side of a rack.
Then time resumed when black fingers curled over the edge of the desk she took refuge under, its claws digging into the laminate material like butter. In a flick of the wrist, the desk was pulled up and tossed aside to hit the ceiling behind the creature, landing on the cubicles below in a flurry of paper and broken dividers. Serena shrieked, pitching back until her elbows caught her from fully hitting the floor. She hadn’t heard it come in or disturb any of the other desks to accommodate its size while it made its way to her hiding spot. How was it getting into places without a peep only to run through it like a tornado a moment later!?
“Get away from me!” She crawled backwards, her hand pawing for anything useful that might give her her third head start. “Please, please, leave me alone!”
Another sob tore from her throat when she was naturally forced into a staring contest with its eyes. Usually, they were wide like a child in wonderment, fully engrossed by Serena and wanting to commit every second to memory. Now, however, the lids were slightly narrowed down at her. Not entirely a glare, but enough to convey the feeling of irritation that was directed at her and her alone. This was the second time she’d thrown something of mild annoyance at its face and scurried off; the game was already getting stale if the creature wasn’t the one winning. But it was the winner because it always found her minutes after fleeing, it just didn’t like the fact she was the one resetting the chase instead of staying captured.
It stalked towards her with a low rumble. When it looked like she might try to get up, the monster darted forward to slam its hands on either side of her. The sudden lunge was enough to startle her flat on her back with a squeal, wincing when the tender spot on her head bumped against the floor. She tried to scramble and roll over on her side to get up, or at least get out of the way, but the creature was too fast for that from where it hovered overhead. It bared its fangs with a short growl and when that only heightened her struggles, it leaned down to snap its teeth an inch from her stomach. The fear of having a bite taken out of her abdomen paralyzed her. She laid immobilized, arms shielding her tear stricken face and legs trembling worse than a newborn fawn.
Seeing that she had finally ceased her fruitless fight, the next croon it made lacked the temper it had before, accompanied with a soft nip to her chest that inadvertently shredded the green ruffle along the placket. Better it be her shirt that was torn by teeth rather than the quivering skin underneath, she supposed. Still, that didn’t stop the strangled keen stuck in her throat. It added insult to injury by flicking the tip of its tongue from her neck up her cheek in misguided praise for her submission, coating the flushed skin with a sheen of salvia. She grit her teeth, shaking her head to signify her dismay.
“Let me go,” she tried to beg. “Please, I, I-I don’t know what you want. Just let me go.”
It chirped a reply, the vibration making her bones turn to jelly from such close contact. The creature buried its nose into the crook of her neck and purred, the tremors nearly making her body go numb. She cried out, wanting so badly to shimmy from underneath where it kept her pinned, but the mouth that was pressed into her abdomen as it nuzzled stilled any attempt of a struggle. One wrong twitch and it might take that as an invitation to carve out her intestines for not heeding its earlier warning.
Though she couldn’t move, Serena had little control over the mewls of terror it elicited from her. “S-stop, please, get off, get off,” her weepy pleas were dangerously close to becoming hysterical. “Don’t hurt me, please, god…”
The monster gave pause in its touching with a curious grumble, the purrs fading from its chest as it pulled back to look down on her. With some relief, its eyes no longer regarded her with annoyance for her behavior, though that didn’t mean it was any more of a comfort to stare into them head on. She shrunk in on herself, unable to gauge its change in mood. Had she offended it with her babbling? Was it done playing with its food now that she had been properly put in her place? Was it being intentionally cruel in the way it tormented her, or was it simply natural behavior in the way a cat toys with an injured mouse for fun?
A hand lifted from its perch beside her and extended a single finger. With bated breath, she did her absolute damnedest to stay where she was lest she tick the monster off for a third, and likely final, time. She winced at the feeling of its claw brushing her tangled fringe out of her face, the tip nicking her temple and drawing a stinging bead of blood. That didn’t dissuade its tracing from her jawline down to her neck, slowing its descent for a moment to admire the way her throat bobbed with a nervous gulp, so close to being slit wide open if it wasn’t more mindful with its claws. The pad of its finger rubbed against her collarbone and continued down to the curve of her chest before stopping.
Even at their difference in size, Serena knew it had to be able to feel how her heart was hammering under the sternum it was prodding. With a grumbling hum, it pushed down a fraction, earning a squealing gasp from the poor girl like a squeaky toy. Thankfully, the creature didn’t try to poke any harder or she thought its finger might penetrate straight through to her spine.
Satisfied with…whatever it was hoping to accomplish, it let its finger slide off of her and sat further back on its haunches to observe its prey. It stared at her. She stared at it. It tilted its head with a croon and she nervously darted her eyes around the office for something. Its tail languidly thumped against a cubicle partition. Her chest started to heave with short, quick breaths of unbridled panic. It did nothing. She snapped.
Damn it all to hell.
The overwhelming urge to survive until her last gasp was ripped from her lungs refused to let her lay there until the creature made the first move to slaughter it at its leisure. Miserable as it was, the reality of her situation was that Serena could either die now, or she could die later at an unknown time. Regardless, she wouldn’t be making it out of the front door alive. As much as she would have liked her demise to be relatively painless, the uncertainty of when her gory death was to occur was almost half the agony. Waiting for the brutal inevitable was far worse than getting it over with so she could be relieved of this nightmare sooner.
She knew it wouldn’t like her turning over and clambering on a rolling chair to heave herself up after it had just gotten her to yield. She really couldn’t give two fucks about what it thought, much less when already thought she was a catch that needed to be reprimanded before the end. If it was going to kill her, she may as well go out with the knowledge that at least she died swinging. Even if it was quite the unfair fight. It wouldn’t be the coward’s way out.
Of course, she would have liked it if the creature granted her a little more dignity to stand tall before it pounced. Her hands had barely found purchase on the armrests of the chair to help her sit up when it decided she was already moving too far away. A scream rivaling the decibels of the fire alarm made her throat burn, almost animalistic in the way it ripped from her diaphragm. Her body was encased in a damp warmth, pinpricks digging into her back and stomach that welled up with blood if she twisted too hard against them. A familiar tongue pressed to her arm and side, instantly coating half of her in a sticky wetness. One hand was able to flail and claw and grab hold of whatever she could for leverage, scratching across velvety skin. The other could only knock against hard pillars and spit-slick flesh, blinding pushing away the prodding muscle and smacking the roof of the humid cavern she was partly ensnared in.
This is it, Serena thought. Tears of pain and frustration clumped her lashes but refused to fall out of spite. Though her mind naturally screamed at her to struggle with all the strength she had to dislodge herself, the movements only caused her to be cut deeper by teeth. What did that matter, anyways? She had already been snatched up in the creature’s fucking mouth, held in place by fangs that only needed a nibble to tear into fat. One bite and she would be gone. A single chomp would sever forty percent of her body from itself. Assuming it wouldn’t just toss its head back and swallow her whole like a pelican. Assuming it wouldn’t take enjoyment chewing on every non vital part of her anatomy to prolong the experience and savor the adrenaline seasoned meat.
The creature didn’t clamp down. Despite her clumsy wiggling and grunts of pain caused by her own doing, it didn’t apply any additional pressure beyond what was needed to keep her securely in its mouth with minimal discomfort. She was almost waiting for it to violently throw her about like a dog with a rabbit’s neck locked its jaws, but what it did instead was far worse.
It shifted itself to be upright on its hands and hind feet and walked away from the debris field it made, Serena partially dangling from its mouth with no say in being carried off.
“What, wh-what are you doing!?” she called to it, only able to see the creature’s hands as it batted a few desks out of its way towards the door. “Put me down! Let go, put me down! Stop!”
One second, they were approaching the office wall directly facing the hallway, its door comically small for the monster to try and squeeze through. The world around Serena flashed from red, to black, to red, as the fire alarm tirelessly called for emergency. In the next moment, just when everything had disappeared into the blackout, her surroundings showed to now be the main hallway washed in red light. The creature continued down the hall without breaking stride, returning in the direction of Warehouse A with Serena held fast. She couldn’t begin to comprehend the transition that led her outside of the office in the blink of an eye without a wall being knocked down. Whatever the monster had done, it made her feel lightheaded, like she had just stepped off a whirlwind ride at the fair after having been on it seventeen times in a row.
Everything was so dizzying and spacey all of a sudden. Her limbs drooped from where they had tried to shove against the creature’s mouth, her head lolling with a whimper of confusion. Was that how it was able to seamlessly travel between rooms – through some usage of the dark? No wonder it unsettled her so much recently; she was potentially surrounded by an open door any time the lights were shut off. The travel between shadows was not made for human bodies to fare well in.
“Please…stop…”
[Note: While following Abnormality down Hallway 3 and Hallway 5, CCTV cameras lost contact and cut off shortly after. Power was not restored until 4:37 A.M.]
–
END OF THIRD NIGHT
–
Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of Boyd in Abnormality’s mouth.]
Though not captured on footage or phone call, Boyd is presumed to have been killed by Abnormality for the end of its hunt.
ABC cleanup services were deployed to WerTech Production Headquarters the following morning to dispose of evidence:
The body of Ted Milton was collected and destroyed
Ted Milton’s and Serena Boyd’s cars were removed and shredded
Hidden cameras and bugs were removed
CCTV footage was wiped back until 7:30 P.M. the following night
An electrical fire was staged to have effected - Storage One, Finance Office Two, Warehouse A, & Hallway 5
Note: Boyd’s remains were not recovered during this sweep. It is believed she may have been killed off property.
Surveillance of the building permitted to continue through WerTech’s internal security systems until Abnormality is located and returned to ABC’s facility.
–
AB299 Behavioral Theories - Updated
Previous theories for Abnormality’s change in behavior have been revised in light of the events pertaining to the third day of observation.
Savor Theory - Due to the prolonged nature of its hunt, it is likely Abnormality was taking pleasure rather than acting solely on hunger. This theory is to be refined and added to Intelligence Capability file.
Courtship Theory - While some behaviors may be similar to socialization displayed in the animal kingdom, it must be kept in mind Abnormality is not part of that. This theory has been scrapped.
Enrichment Theory - Because Abnormality has confirmed to have killed at least one person, it can be concluded this was an active hunt. This theory has been scrapped in favor of ‘Savor Theory’.
–
Sixth Day
[Two (2) days since Abnormality last spotted]
–
MORNING OVERVIEW
No activity has been noted at WerTech Production Headquarters over the weekend aside from authorized clean up by ABC personnel. Business proceeded as usual for scheduled operating hours.
Artificial rumors were circulated through employees to cover up remaining evidence of Abnormality and Boyd’s interactions:
Areas staged with electrical fire damage were tarped off for repair; displaced employees were placed in temporary offices
An email was sent from Ted Milton’s address to announce his immediate resignation; no questions were asked
An email was sent from Serena Boyd’s address to confirm her hours were approved for graduation; she was not expected to return
Abnormality has not been found on property or around the local area at this time. While it is unusual for it to return to the same location after a successful hunt, the possibility cannot be ruled out due to behavioral changes.
–
Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of Boyd exiting custodial closet in Hallway 1. She is surrounded by three (3) employees who offer assistance.]
SERENA BOYD’S RETURN
Unexpectedly, Boyd reappeared at WerTech Production Headquarters at 5:49 P.M. in which she enters from a closet. There is no archived footage showing her entering or exiting the closet prior to this reveal. It is unknown if she had been in there since Abnormality’s disappearance.
Seven (7) WerTech employees were in the building when Boyd stumbled into the hallway and collapsed. An intercepted call to 911 was made by an employee that was answered by ABC’s mock service.
Three (3) ABC personnel with Level 4 clearance were dispatched to the scene as two (2) officers and a paramedic.
Witnesses stated that Boyd appeared out of nowhere and was extremely unfocused. They were unable to get her to speak or walk without support.
Note: All employees were required to wait in the break room under the supervision of an ABC agent until Boyd was assessed.
–
Medical Assessment: Serena Boyd
Clouded eyes; unable to follow penlight movement
Vision improvements thirty minutes after recovery
No reaction to auditory stimuli; delayed nerve reaction to physical stimuli
Motor improvements forty-two minutes after recovery
Slurred speech; unable to support head when sitting up and continually slouching to the side
Balance improvements thirty-six minutes after recovery
Speech improvements twenty minutes after recovery
Full body tremors
Low body temperature - 95.8 F
Temperature increased to 99.3 F fifteen minutes after recovery
Ashened complex
Gaps in short term memory
Bruising along abdomen and mid back; scabbed lacerations on posterior and anterior
Dizziness; nausea
No signs of sleep deprivation or malnutrition despite having been missing for sixty-six hours
–
Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of Boyd and two (2) ABC personnel seated at a table in a manager's office. She is slouched in a chair with a shock blanket draped over her.]
The Interview Incident
ABC personnel privately interviewed Boyd on her experience when she was coherent enough to participate over an hour later. It is not believed she suspects them of being undercover operatives.
During the interview, Abnormality has returned to the property.
–
Her eyes remained glued to the glass of water she had been offered earlier at the medic’s insistence for hydration, transfixed on the droplets of condensation that slid down the sides into a growing puddle at the base. That would leave a ring stain on the desk’s finish; she should get a coaster. She should also probably drink the water that was almost room temperature by now, but she didn’t want it. She wasn’t thirsty, just a slight headache, and she worried the shake of her fingers might cause the glass to slip and spill should she try to hold it.
“-to an extremely traumatic event,” the officer continued. His words faded in and out of her ears in little fragmented sentences. They’d been talking to her for a length of time but made little progress in cracking her case. She couldn’t even remember their names. “I know it might be hard, but we need you to try to remember anything about what happened.”
“What happ’nd?” she repeated, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. It sounded more like Serena was the one asking them for clarification about what took place rather than the other way around.
He nodded at her patiently. “You’ve been missing for two days, Ms. Boyd. Can you tell us what happened the night you disappeared?”
“Two…days?” Her brow scrunched in confusion. Days didn’t sound right. If it had been days, she would be hungry and grimey, wouldn’t she? The only thing she felt now was exhaustion in the way that everything ached and nothing worked as a remedy.
“Did it not feel like days to you?” He asked.
She shook her head and immediately regretted the action with a wince.
“How long do you think you were gone for?”
“Gone? Where…where’d I go?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” the medic said with a sympathetic smile. Weird that she was also present for a police interview, but maybe it was in case Serena collapsed face first on the desk.
The officer pushed a tape player across the desk so that it could be in the middle of them. “Let’s start from the beginning, try and jog your memory a bit.” He pressed the red play button, her own voice playing from the staticky speakers in clear distress with a 911 dispatcher. “Do you remember making this call?”
Immediately, she curled in on herself and whimpered. Her shaking worsened, breathing quickening to shallow pants as she listened to herself beg for someone to help her from a gigantic monster prowling in the halls.
“It killed the security guard. T-Ted Milton. It ripped him apart!” her past self sobbed.
Ted. Oh god, Ted. Gone and bloody and broken and pulverized and shredded and dead dead dead dead –
In an act of mercy, the medic reached over to stop the tape. “Deep breaths, Serena, or your blood pressure might crash again.”
She gulped, screwing up her face in a bid not to cry as the memory of Ted’s eviscerated corpse washed over her before fading into obscurity, safely repressed once more. “N…no one came…”
“We did,” he said softly. “but you were already gone when we arrived on the scene.”
“Can you tell us about what you were running from? What you think killed your friend?” the medic encouraged.
The monster. The void that had shaped itself into an unnatural form with fangs and claws and horrible, horrible eyes. Bent legs and a tail, a face too human for comfort, throaty grumbles and a slick tongue. Any time she closed her eyes, glanced at a shadow, she swore she could see it lurking somewhere in the depths of darkness. Inescapable.
“I don’t…I dunno,” she squeezed out.
“You do know,” the officer said. It wasn’t accusatory, but it was firm, like a teacher wanting a student to solve a problem on their own. “It’s somewhere in there, but you have to work with us so we can get it out.”
She buried her face in her hands and groaned. “‘m trying…”
“I know, and we need you to try a little harder. What were you running from, Ms. Boyd?”
Her hands dropped to her lap in exasperation, already feeling dizzy again with this constant runaround of being asked the same questions with the same answers. The things she did know didn’t make sense, and the things she didn’t know refused to come out of hiding in the recesses of her trauma. Was it that she didn’t want to relive those memories, or were they, in fact, moments in time she was beyond comprehending?
“Wh’does it matter, you won’t believe me,” she snapped. “No one believed me. You’ll jus’ think I’m crazy, or, or, tell me I’m having an episode and that I…”
She cut off her own thoughts with a sickening realization. Of course these two wouldn’t believe her story about a monster in the dark, just as no one took her seriously about her growing anxiety prior or when she tried to call for help. Outside of her own head, she could recognize how absurd the claim was and how it would hardly stand as evidence about the real culprit of Ted’s slaying. They were trying to evaluate how much of the monster was truly all within her head as a manifestation of stress, looking for the trigger that may have caused a psychotic breakdown that resulted in her brutalizing her coworker before fleeing the scene in a daze.
“You…you think I did it, don’t you? Y-you think I killed Ted, a-and, and I’m making this all up.”
“Serena, no,” the medic reached her hand across the desk again to place it over Serena’s trembling one. She gave her fingers a warm squeeze. “I think we’re the only ones who do believe you. And you know what else I think? I really think you saw something that night that shouldn’t exist, and I think it had something to do with your disappearance.”
The kind reassurance that she wasn’t being interrogated as a delusional murder suspect made her want to cry. Not that she did have any hand in Ted’s death, to her knowledge. She bit her lip, pulling the shock blanket tighter around her shoulders to conceal the way she shook in the chair. Was it too late to ask for a lawyer? She hadn’t been read any Miranda rights yet, had she? There was a vague recollection of the officer telling her that she wasn’t in trouble, this was simply to gather what information they could to help her, not convict her.
The medic rubbed her thumb on the back of Serena’s hand, looking at her with those kind, green eyes. “Where did you go, Serena?”
She couldn’t help the sob that slipped out, stifling the rest of it with a sniffle. “I..I don’t…I don’t know…”
Before either of the responders could start again with their circular questions, she pushed on to wring what she could from her muddled mind. “I dunno what it was. It…I try…it’s so fuzzy in my head when I think about it. And, and I don’t know if maybe…that has something to do with it. Like…like it’s…” she grit her teeth at the pounding behind her eyes. “It gives me a headache.”
“What was it like? Can you tell us anything about how it looked?” The officer asked.
She swallowed. “No, everything in my mind is just…dark. And when I think I remember something it…there’s…I can’t describe it. I see it but I just, I can’t, it’s not…it’s like I’m trying to make something that isn’t real.”
The medic nodded at her with some type of understanding. “You were somewhere your psyche couldn’t handle.”
“Hm…?”
“It’s like…for us, we can see things in two- and three-dimensions. That’s normal, we can process those things. But when we try to picture something in a fourth- or fifth-dimension, it’s impossible,” she explained. “But those planes of existence are still out there, allegedly.”
She blinked slowly at the other woman. “You think I…slipped between dimensions?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” she said.
Her eyes looked between the officer and the medic, almost like she had fallen back into her half comatose state. “That’s…”
“I know,” the officer sighed. “But so is being chased around by a shadow monster, Ms. Boyd.”
“I’m not lying about that!”
“I know,” he repeated. “So we can’t rule out anything that happened to you afterwards yet. Not until you can tell us exactly what occurred.”
“I…I told you, I can’t remember,” she winced again at the sharp stab in her skull, pressing the heel of her hand against her temple to alleviate the pain. “I was here and then I wasn’t and there were…it was dark but there were these, like, just…”
“These what?”
“...colors. Things were in colors but…colors I’ve never seen before, ever. And I try to look at ‘em but I can’t see them, but it was so…blinding, I think, I don’t know. It hurt my eyes.”
The medic rested her chin on her propped up fist. “That must be why your memories are blacked out. You’re trying to remember them in color shades that don’t exist, so you can’t picture anything.”
That made a fair bit of sense if Serena was to believe she had really been kidnapped to an alternate dimension by a shadow hopping creature for one reason or another. Just thinking that made her want to check herself into the looney bin for an extended vacation, apparently with the two responders as well who were only feeding into her hysteria.
“Let’s talk a little more about your attacker,” the officer redirected. “Do you remember your encounters with it before you went missing?”
It was hard to think about, but she nodded.
“Do you remember what it looked like? How it acted?”
She nodded again.
“Tell us what you can about it.”
The shock blanket crinkled as she dug her fingers into the outside material, a sense of dread washing over her immediately from just having to relive being in its presence. “Big. It had fangs and claws and it…it was like this demon-man-dog thing, I don’t know. And, and it was all black with yellow and red eyes, but, but you could only see the eyes.” She gave a shuddering sigh. “It…hurt me a little, but…but nothing like it did to Ted. I don’t, I don’t think it was trying to…”
“How often was it with you in the two days you were gone?”
“Not…I don’t think all the time. I felt like I was running nowhere a lot, but, but not for two days.”
The medic hummed. “Did it feel longer or shorter?”
“Both. Like, like when you’re having a nightmare.”
“And how did you get out of your nightmare?” she asked.
Their impossible, neverending questions were starting to make Serena feel faint again. Her migraine was worsening with each instance she needed to recall from a reality that didn’t exist. She felt like she was going to throw up if the stress caused her stomach to tie itself into one more knot in her jumbled guts. No amount of deep breathing could slow the beat of her heart that banged furiously within her ribcage, further aggravating the purple bruises that mottled her skin. There was a right answer for everything the responders asked, so tantalizingly close in her mind, yet stubbornly guarded by an annoying little disorder called PTSD that refused to let her open Pandora’s box.
What was the worst that could happen; she goes completely mad like the protagonist of a Lovecraft novel who tried to understand a concept outside of human knowledge? Hey, if she became a raving lunatic, at least they’d be able to string together better answers from her ramblings than her repeatedly mumbled ‘I don’t know’s.
“I just…did,” she said with a strain in her voice. “I couldn’t see where I was going and…and I ran into something. And I felt around, and I found the knob and…I was here.”
She slumped deeper in the chair, avoiding either of the responder’s gaze so as to hide the tears burning in her eyes. “I don’t wanna be here. I, I don’t want to go back there anymore. I wanna go home…”
To her credit, the medic looked extremely consoling to Serena’s plight, but the tight smile she offered was that classic you’re-not-going-to-like-this-but-we-need-to-do-it-anyways look all medical professions gave their patients who felt the remedy was worse than their sickness. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
“Why not?” she whined, like a goddamn child.
“Your condition needs to be monitored. Even under normal circumstances, you’re still in shock. It wouldn’t be safe to leave you alone,” she explained. “But we can make sure you have the treatment if you’d be willing to be admitted to a private hospital.”
She paled. “A psych ward?”
“No, Ms. Boyd, it’s not a state sponsored institution,” the officer said. “It’s a very respectable facility that has numerous therapies to help. Therapies that can pull those memories out and help with the pain.”
“You do think I’m crazy.”
“We think you need help processing your trauma, not because we think you’re imagining it.”
“It’s to keep an eye on your physical well-being, too,” the medic added. “You were in a pretty rough state a couple hours ago.”
The officer nodded once. “ABC can take good care of you. We can take you to their facility for an overnight stay, just to ease your mind, and have you discharged in the morning.”
“Well…provided you pass the examinations, of course. We can’t have you discharged if you’re still in clear medical distress, but after those though, yes.”
Something niggled in the back of Serena’s mind, almost missed by the severity of the headache that was making her brain throb. It was a tiny little prickle; the same feeling that made her spine tingle and her hands clench, the same feeling she had felt when walking through dark spots in the building less than a week before. Intuition. The sense of dread that something was very, very wrong even if anything had yet to happen. It had been right so far, despite hindsight reminding her that she hadn't taken the warnings as seriously as she should have.
don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t trust don’t go don’t go don’t trust don’t trust don’t go
But why not? They were the only ones who believed a word she said. A few internet forums might also believe her wild claims about giant monsters and worlds beyond their own, but these were two people that were legit. An officer of the law, sworn to serve and protect, and a medical technician dedicated to save lives – who better to guarantee her protection? In fact, these were the last two people she would have ever thought would agree that not only that she had been stalked and kidnapped by an otherworldly being, but that her coworker had been slaughtered by it as well with no suspicion pointing to her at all. Cops and EMTs were always the one having to talk down the crazed druggies going on about how they had to kill their spouse to prevent an alien apocalypse, after all.
Even if it was odd that the offices at WerTech were still open despite being what should be an active crime scene. Even if the officer didn’t wear a name badge. Even if the medic was present and asking questions unrelated to her health. Even if neither of them were taking notes the entire interview with no camera or voice recorder in sight besides the tape player containing her paused 911 call. Even if they cared more about where she disappeared to rather than what took place prior that resulted in a man’s death, as if they had already figured that part out without her input. Even if she had never heard of a place called ABC that specialized in hospice.
If her brain hadn’t been so clouded with such a thick fog, she may have picked up on these inconsistencies throughout the interview process. But the fact of the matter was that she was lucky if she could hold on to a thought for longer than a second before it disappeared into static. Her past was a blur and her present was already getting fuzzy at the edges in real time. All she could rely on was that instinctive pull that was trying to steer her away from a threat she couldn’t understand. The last time, that threat had been a rampaging creature. It was most certainly in her best interest to listen again, despite the desire to be around the experts of her situation.
“I don’t think…my insurance would cover that,” she said as a pitiful excuse. “Can I–”
The lights flickered. Serena froze. They then went out for one, two, three seconds before blinking back to undisturbed brightness. The officer and medic glanced at each other in a way that told her they were thinking the exact thing she was, though they were far more calm about it. However, the lights had never turned back on after an unexpected blackout before, and she was waiting for one of them to dash her worries by saying something about a shoddy generator or broken breaker box to explain the weak electricity. They didn’t.
“Call for C Team,” the medic ordered. Her partner nodded and, rather than using the radio clipped to his shoulder as Serena had seen most officers do, he pulled out some kind of sleek, flat device from his pocket.
“Requesting immediate dispatch; C Team to WerTech. AB299 possibly on premise,” he spoke into it.
A voice crackled from the other end. “C Team inbound. Status on subject?”
“Conscious and in custody.”
What the hell did that mean? Was she the subject? And what was C Team, and who the hell were any of these people!?
“What’s, wh-what’s going on?” she asked, only to be promptly ignored by both responders, whom she had a sneaking suspicion weren’t real responders at all. No, actually, they were technically responders, just not for any emergency service the general public could call.
The ‘medic’ hefted her black bag onto the desk and rummaged through the contents within. “Check with Jack that we have the building on lockdown and all seven witnesses accounted for. If any of them get out, it’ll be Atlanta all over again.”
“Don’t remind me,” he grimaced. He pressed another button on his strange walkie-talkie, presumably to switch the channel. “Jack, what’s your status?”
Staticky dead air responded. The ‘officer’ waited a beat before trying again. “Jack, are you there? What’s the status update?”
This time, the silence was broken in a series of snaps and sizzles of various volumes, occasionally cut in by what could only be described as electronic shrieking. Or was it real shrieking? It was too distorted to tell, but someone was clearly trying to signal back with little success.
“-ere-”
“Jack, you’re breaking up.”
“-abn – in buil – trapped – eed bac – need! –”
The speaker was blown out by white noise, then cut off entirely.
“Shit,” the ‘officer’ muttered, switching back to his other line. “AB299 confirmed on premise. Sounds like it just took out Jack.”
“C Team is seven minutes out,” the other voice said.
The ‘medic’ pulled out what looked to be something similar to a zip tie, made of a thick white material and with two loops at the bottom of the clasp instead of one. “Go check and make sure we have the location secured. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. They should have all been in the break room at the other end of he buildingl.”
“What about her?” he asked with a gesture to Serena, who seemed to have been forgotten during this exchange. She couldn’t even dignify that with a response, let alone think of anything that wasn’t ‘what the absolute fuck are you guys talking about?’.
“I’ll take care of her,” the ‘medic’ replied. Those ties in her hand were suddenly much more threatening with the looming promise to ‘take care of’ a girl who had seen more than she bargained for. “If AB299 gets a hold of her, it might try to take her back and we’ll have to start from scratch.”
“Who the hell are you people!?” Serena finally cried, slamming her hands on the desk as she forced herself to stand despite the black spots that made her head spin. Her outburst had almost no reaction on either of them, only regarding her with cool indifference.
The ‘medic’ jerked her head at her partner. “Take care of the witnesses while you’re at it.”
“Understood,” was all he said before leaving the office.
That just left Serena and the other impersonator alone in the enclosed room, one of the women being at a slightly higher advantage when it came to mental clarity and reflexes at the moment. Unfortunately for Serena, she was also the one with the weird zip ties that were either meant for her wrists or her throat. Both did not sound like very great options. The ‘medic’s eyes lost the warm hospitality that had lulled her in during the interview, replaced now with an icy professionalism that gave way she didn’t care one way or another if a supposed patient was lost on her watch. Especially if it involved seven of them being coworkers who were only trying to help.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, Serena,” she started, taking a step forward as Serena took a wobbly one back.
“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed. To that, the other woman blinked. “You’re…you have something to do with that thing, don’t you? You, you created, or something, or –”
“The only thing I am associated with is the Abnormality Breach & Containment organization. I have nothing to do with AB299’s attachment towards you,” she explained. Ah, so that’s what ABC meant. That cleared absolutely nothing up.
Serena pinched brows. “What’s AB299?”
“An abnormality. Something that’s not meant to exist, but does. That’s its classification serial number.”
Great. Still made fuckall sense.
“I know you’re confused. Honestly, we’re a little confused, too. AB299 has never acted this way before when it would break out to hunt,” She took another step closer. “We’re not sure yet if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“What are you…talking about?”
The ‘medic’ huffed. “Come on, Serena. Whatever AB299 is, it’s a predator. And you, well, we thought you were prey at first. We never expected you to make it the three days that you did. We never expected you to show up when we thought for sure you were dead.”
She felt her heart hit the floor at such a casual reveal of information. The horror had to be clear on her face as she grappled with so many new layers added to what she was forced to experience for a voyeuristic secret service. Not only had they presumed her dead, not only had they never intervened to save her, but they had known the entire goddamn time she was being hunted and allowed it.
“You…y-you let it go after me.”
“It chose to go after you. We just didn’t stop it,” she clarified. Another step. Serena was backed into a corner. “We needed the research; you have to understand that observing its behavior is how we can learn to keep it better contained.”
“You were going to let me die.”
The other woman didn’t say anything, only leveling her with a heavy gaze. The sacrifice of one to save many, except it wasn’t just one that was passively offered as bait in the name of scientific discovery. How many others had died while ABC looked on and scribbled on their notepads? Was it enough to counter the lives they claimed to have saved as a result? By the sounds of it, AB299 was a routine jailbreaker, so they must not be making too many strides in their confinement regulations.
From her pocket, something beeped sharply. The ‘medic’ paused her advancement to fish for a similar device to what the ‘officer’ had, holding down one of the buttons on the side to answer the channel’s request.
“Building secure, AB299 is definitely around here somewhere, though.”
“What about Jack and the witnesses?”
There was a pause. “Break room’s a fucking bloodbath. Anything that’s left is minced meat. Doesn’t look like anyone made it past the exit sign…Jack included.”
“God damn it,” she growled. “AB299 probably blocked his call…”
“That’s just the job, Alesha. I’ll put in a request for a clean up crew and head back. C Team is four minutes out.”
“I know what the job is. Just, be careful, Adam. It’s in a frenzy and it left the lights on, it doesn’t care about being seen.”
“Understood.”
The radio silenced its sizzling overlay and the ‘medic’, Alesha, pocketed it with a sigh. Her lips were pressed into a tight line when she looked back at Serena, straightening her posture. “You’re not the only person who gets lost during research sometimes. Certain things need to be done, and someone is always going to be the bad guy.”
The conversation was still ringing in Serena’s ears, blocking out whatever moral bullshit Alesha was trying to justify. Bloodbath. Minced meat. That’s all that seven people were given the decency to be referred to after so graciously trying to make sure she was okay when she collapsed in front of them from a closet by calling what they thought was an emergency service number. Seven people who had families and friends and lives, who came to work today like any other, who tried to keep Serena conscious and comfortable until help came, who agreed to stay two hours past their shift at the request of faux police with little complaint under the guise it was in case she had a medical episode.
And these ABC people let them be fodder for a monster that was predicted to kill her before it deviated from that goal. No, not just that, ‘officer’ Adam had gone there with the exact purpose to get rid of them himself under Alesha’s orders. They might not have even seen anything at that point, had no idea what was going on, and would have died regardless for being a potential liability. Because they knew Serena was alive when she wasn’t supposed to be and had been found in a very odd way in a very odd state. Doomed by proxy out of the goodness of their hearts. All of them could have been spared had they been sent home after their own questioning wrapped up thirty minutes into her examination.
AB299 wasn’t the only predator in this building with her.
“Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be,” Alesha said, holding up the ties. “We’re going to get you out of here and take you somewhere secured. You don’t have to be in any danger.”
“What, are you going to experiment on me, too?” Serena asked incredulously. “You just…you let all of those people die and now you want to dangle me in front of your monster until it, until it fucking does something? Is that it?”
“You cause some very…let’s say, interesting, reactions in AB299’s behavior. There’s something unique about you, Serena, something that might actually work to keep it contained.” Alesha’s tone was losing its evenness, becoming sharper with each argument Serena threw back at her to prolong the inevitable. She was quite good at keeping monsters at bay, it seemed. “Think about what this could mean. Do you know how many people you could save? We can figure this out toge–”
She was also quite good at tricking monsters with a sneak attack to the face.
The shock blanket was whipped from her shoulders like a magician’s cape and flung at Alesha, blinding her with silver material that tangled around her head and arms as she tried to push it away. While the blanket itself might not be a heavy hitter, Serena’s elbow sure was when she cracked it against the general area that the other woman’s face should have been underneath the fabric. She wasn’t sure what she hit, but it was hard, and it struck her funny bone with enough force to make her fingers go numb. More importantly, it sent Alesha stumbling backwards with a bloodied face and further wrapped up by the very shock blanket she had given to her earlier.
In a flash, she was out the door that Adam really should have locked. Alesha was definitely yelling something, or perhaps just cursing in pain, but her voice faded quickly by the time Serena had sprinted down the hall. It took a moment for her to get her bearings and realize where she was in the building. Somewhere on the west side, near the manufacturing end and distribution offices. It also didn’t help that her vision would swirl every few inhales, unable to keep up with the exertion she was trying to use. Her stomach clenched in pain from the ugly bruise on her abdomen that was aggravated by her heaving diaphragm, her head wasn’t faring much better with her migraine. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and suffer in peace until she felt human again.
That wasn’t an option right now. Somehow, some way, she had been handed an open can of worms and promptly spilled the whole damn thing on herself. What kind of person finds themself mixed up in a world of mystery agents and reality shifting creatures and lives to tell the tale? Maybe lives, she hadn’t made it out of here yet. It wasn’t like she asked to be stalked by a monster who liked to escape ‘secret jail’, much less turn into some sort of special interest for it, which in turn made her a special interest to a lot of other people she had no desire to associate with.
If she was going to be thrown into the plot of a summer blockbuster, why couldn’t it have been a cheesy romcom instead of an epic sci fi horror? If that was the case, then she’s said it before and she’ll say it again: she wasn’t a token death, she was a motherfucking final girl.
There was the slight issue of running down a hallway of training rooms that Adam was also walking up. He seemed startled to see her and the feeling was mutual. As far as he was concerned, she was meant to be in the office with Alesha monitoring her, bound at the wrists, sitting pretty with the understanding that she was under ABC surveillance for the foreseeable future. Instead, she was none of those things. They both paused in their tracks to silently appraise each other in confusion, which gave enough time for Alesha to catch up a bit from behind.
“Adam, stop her!” she yelled.
That was all the command he needed to snap out of his confusion. He moved towards her, drawing his gun from his holster, probably the only real thing on his police uniform besides the fact it was an amoral douche wearing it. The gun was aimed at her with steady hands and even at the distance, she had no doubt he was a sharp shooter. But she was supposed to be so important to their scheme, wasn’t she? They wouldn’t gun her down, she’d be no use in their stupid mind games to domestic monstrosities then. If he shot her, it would certainly be in one of her limbs to slow her down without the problematic aspect of death. A bullet lodged in her humerus was not something she wanted to deal with on top of everything else that was beating the hell out of her.
She turned heel and ran back up the way she came, ducking into an intersection where some of the hallways converged to make a loop for the front entrance. The side doors required her keycard and, even if she still had it on her, it would have been deactivated this morning per the scheduled end of her internship. Her best bet would be the entry doors, regardless if they were locked up like Adam had declared. There were plenty of plant pots to hurl at the full length windows around them for a messy escape.
Adam had to be hot on her trail, but her dulled senses only allowed her to hyperfocus on her own body. How her heart sounded, how her legs burned, how her sight was tunnel visioned. One thing she did have going for her though was that she was more knowledgeable in the layout of this building than either of the two agents. They may have done their homework, maybe even gotten a full blueprints for WerTech to plan for some cool secret spy getaways, but none of them knew how to find a secret spot to hide for prolonged periods of time like an intern who was wasting thousands of dollars on a degree that wasn’t even being utilized at a job that barely paid.
There was an alcove where…something used to be some years ago, probably obsolete in this decade now. But within that alcove, there was a closet that couldn’t be seen from around the walls, hidden by the bulk of a drink machine that had been shoved into the open space. She had to grip onto the wall’s trim to help swing her into the nook, concealed from sight in the nick of time. Two pairs of shoes were jogging towards the intersection, Alesha telling Adam to check down this hallway while she went ahead to try and cut her off elsewhere, splitting the sound off to just his patrol boots stomping past her hiding spot.
She took a moment to collect herself. She knew if she slumped down, she wouldn’t have the strength to get back up in her exhausted, disoriented state. With a few deep inhales to fill her lungs, she pushed off the wall and dipped back into the hallway. New plan: retrace her steps back to where she started while the other two were trying to intersect her at the front of the building. And then…she…would come up with part two of that ploy when she got there.
Actually, no she wouldn’t. Because at the end of the hall where all of them had just come from was the creature. AB299, in all its glory.
What a stupid name, she caught herself thinking as if she wasn’t a hen in the foxhouse at the moment, is that supposed to mean there’s, like, two hundred and ninety-eight other monsters being stored at ABC? It didn’t roll off the tongue very nicely.
To see it under the glow of slightly yellow fluorescent lights was unsettling in a way she didn’t think was possible. In the void of darkness, it blended in as another seamless shadow, only identifiable by its eyes following the movements of its prey. In the full light, though, its shape was clearly defined in crisp lines, ruining the illusion of omnipotence. That didn’t overlook the fact that AB299 was still massive, still crouched on all fours to fit in the building, and still as terrifying as ever with its narrowed eyes and thumping tail.
She was grateful the deep coloring of black helped to hide the blood she was sure its mouth and claws were drenched in. Her heart wouldn’t be able to stand the sight otherwise.
“Son of a bitch…”
It grumbled something unhappy, probably asking why she had left the lovely little plane of unreality it had hidden her to have a mental overload in. Such the unseemly habit of running away from the creature she had. Serena could only stand there, knowing any move she made would send the monster barreling towards her before she could slip its grasp again. The gears were turning in her head for something, anything, but all she was rewarded with was smoke and a wicked throb between her temples.
On one end, she had an ‘abnormality’ with a strange fixation on her and a penchant for blood, of which hers may or may not be spilt next if she kept testing its patience. On the other end, she had two agents circling nearby, at least one of them with a gun. She wished she could say it was clear who was the lesser of two evils, but at least AB299 was acting on primal instincts as an excuse. Those two were just sociopaths with a warped hero complex.
…and really, if they got to play god over which lives were saved and which ones were bait, then why couldn’t she?
This was stupid. Really, really stupid. Suicidal, even, and definitely unethical enough to get her a first class seat to hell. Arguably, she was already in hell, so she couldn’t imagine anything worse than what she was prepared for. She raised her hands, trying to still the trembles enough that it didn’t look like she was erratically waving.
“H-hey…” she whispered, her throat suddenly dry and wishing she had drank that water on the desk when she had the chance.
AB299 responded with another growl, a little less irked, and tilted its head.
She gulped. Too late to back down now. “C…come here,” she gestured her open hands towards herself. “Come follow me.”
She took two steps back. The monster lunged.
Automatically, she stumbled a few more feet back with a frightened squeal. It took every ounce of her self control to plant her feet firmly on the ground to avoid the flight or fight instinct screaming at her to run. Her arms were raised again, as if she would physically be able to stop the creature that filled the space previously between them in two pounces.
“Stop, stop! Not chase!” she shrieked and by some miracle, AB299 heeded her cry before it closed in on the last five feet before her. “Not chase. Follow. Okay? Can you follow? Can you…do you know what I’m saying?”
It rumbled, eyes hooded in apprehension of what she was asking it to do, but at least no longer glaring. Taking that to be some kind of affirmation, Serena started to walk backwards again with her arms still up to signal the need for distance. Much to her surprise, despite the fact that was the intended goal, AB299 obediently crawled at what had to be an agonizingly slow pace in order to stay her requested distance as she walked. She had no idea how long she’d be able to keep this up for, hopefully long enough that she’d have a new exit strategy in mind should the creature grow bored of this game of Simon Says.
Alesha was right; it behaved strangely around her. If she had to guess, it was only listening to her now because it thrived under the positive reinforcement of her company. If it stayed and heeled as she asked, she wouldn’t go running off, and then there would be a mutual exchange where she also wouldn’t go running off the next time it spirited her away. Which was a term in their agreement she did not concur, by the way.
“Little more,” she said, just to ensure she still had its interest. It crooned softly. “That’s a good, uh…well, just…good.”
She could hear the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum drawing closer to her from the hallway’s left opening. Her bet was Adam, given that he would have been closer to rush back once he heard Serena making her commotion. She wondered if AB299 heard him approaching as well, if that was a prowess it possessed, or if it was simply too consumed with admiring her to pay it much mind. Her throat tightened at the thought of what she was orchestrating, knowing it was the only way out she’d make it out somewhat in one piece. Cruel violence didn’t solve cruel violence, but she tried to trick her conscious that this was merely karma in play. It’s not like she was directly ordering the creature to maim, she just…happened to lure it into a scenario that it would make that decision itself.
“You’re…you’re going to keep me safe, right?” she asked. It felt akin to a little girl asking her teddy bear for reassurance that it would chase away her bad dreams, except this teddy bear was one of the boogeymen from her closet. There was no telling what the creature ultimately wanted with her, whether it meant her harm in the long run or not. For the time being, she had to trust that its possessiveness equated to wanting her alive and mostly unscathed.
The consequences of baiting a monster with an unhealthy attachment could be dealt with at a later time that was more convenient, such as never.
Adam rounded the corner with his gun raised in preparation to threaten her into surrendering, if not to go ahead and take the shot to save everyone the trouble of her getting loose again. Really, if she had a quarter for every time she was being chased around WerTech by someone who was pissed she wouldn’t stop running away from an obligation she had no say in accepting, she’d have a worrying amount of quarters since that number should be zero for most people. She turned to see him realize his mistake too late. He froze, finger on the trigger but knowing it would be useless against the creature. AB299 snarled at the brandished weapon putting its prized prey in danger, practically making the hallway vibrate from its intensity.
Serena dropped to the floor as the creature sprung over her to slam itself on the new threat. The agent cried out, but he wasn’t able to form any words that would be his last, all of the air squeezed out of him when claws dug into his chest. There wasn’t time to waste in being awed and sickened by the ferocity AB299 was capable of. The aftermath of its maulings were horrific enough, she didn’t need a full viewing to learn how it was made. With the creature distracted and one ABC agent permanently handled, she scrambled back up before her legs turned to jelly and disappeared down the opening on the right. She could hear the crunch of bone, the wet splatter of meat striking a solid surface, the groans and gurgles of a dying man. She didn’t look back.
Following down this hall, she would be able to cut across the rotunda and loop back to the main hallway that offered a straight shot to the entrance. She begged her legs to push harder, ignoring how even at half-speed they were threatening to go numb if she forced them another step further. Who knew how long the creature would busy itself with devouring a man as an affectionate sign of protection. Once it had its fill in flinging the remains around, or perhaps noticed her missing first, the hunt would be back on. Would it be angered by the betrayal of her leaving after she tricked it into thinking they’d reached a mutual agreement? Would it think this was all part of the game and eager to continue? She’d rather not find out. She'd rather go home and sit in her shower for four and a half days.
On her way down the familiar hall, she made note of the few areas that were sealed away under blue tarps and yellow caution tape. Black scorch marks around the edges of the room indicated fire damage, but she already knew that wasn’t the case. The storage room, the finance office – these were areas she had the most interactions with AB299 last week, areas that had been torn up by said creature in its chase. Pyrotechnic powers didn’t sound accurate, which meant these fires had been intentionally started to hide any unexplained damage. To hide the fact that Serena was missing, taken alive but presumed dead. They covered up her death and made sure no one would ask questions to mourn her.
She hoped every last scumbag at ABC choked.
Being able to run down the main hallway without being impeded by scattered furniture felt like a luxury. She hadn’t realized what she took for granted in moving along a straight path during a life or death situation. Even though she was counting on this being the last time she would ever have to flee in this damn building. The only thing she needed to be mindful of was the bunches of tarp that poked a little ways out on the floor from where they draped over windows to block a room’s interior. Up ahead, she could see more fire burnings on the floor from where a flame had licked quite far from the doorway, though it didn’t like the room it trailed back to was sectioned off for remodeling.
That was because, as she got closer, it wasn’t scorch marks. It was blood, already darkening to a deep rusty color and smeared much like Ted’s had been when his corpse was dragged off. Except this streak only went a couple feet out before stopping with a single handprint showing that the person had been pulled back into the very room they were escaping. The break room, more precisely. The room her former coworkers had been corralled into and guarded by another fake officer named Jack to keep them from leaving, where they were trapped on all sides when AB299 came to attack.
She shouldn’t have looked, she knows she shouldn’t look, but her eyes followed the trail of red before she could stop herself in shock. Adam had been right when he said it was a bloodbath; the inside looked as if a blender full of meat had gone off without a lid. The floor, the walls, the ceiling – every square inch was covered in a thick splattering of viscera that still dripped into puddles below. The tables and chairs were overturned as the monster wrecked havoc and people tried to get out of its path with no success. There weren’t even any bodies in the sea of gore, not like how a good portion of Ted had been left. All she could see were bits of flesh, a few clumps of hair, a single finger or heel of a shoe that still had a partial foot inside.
There was virtually nothing left of these people, nothing but blood that mixed together and coated the room in bitter smelling scarlet. She had no idea which of her seven coworkers had been present to begin with, leaving her with no way of knowing who she should feel sorrow for. It was likely that no one else would know either as there was barely anything in the gore to identify one chunk of yellow fat from another. How long did the massacre last, how long did they have to watch each other be torn apart by a creature that only existed in nightmares, all because they happened to still be in the building when Serena magically appeared? She wasn’t sure what was making her more nauseous right now, the crime scene or the guilt.
Whether it was because she was disturbingly growing desensitized to copious amounts of carnage done in her wake or because her mind had already blocked the memory as a trauma response, her only reaction was to stumble back with a pained whimper. No tears were shed, not yet. She couldn’t afford to fall to her knees and wail in horror when she was so close to walking out the front doors. Or through a broken window, it didn’t matter to her. Then she could run and scream and sob to her heart’s content as she found a place to hunker down away from secret agents and giant monsters. She sniffled, clenching her first to her mouth in case she needed to bite down and muffle a cry, but the wave of anguish passed over her to be safely compartmentalized and never touched upon again if she had any say in it.
She’d only made it a few steps forward when a body ran into her back, nearly toppling both of them to the ground. Her surprise mixed with the lingering shock she was still experiencing, allowing her attacker to get the upper hand and wrap their arms around her to pin her to them. After a second, her brain caught up to her motor functions and ordered her to flail her limbs to break free of the hold, but it was too late. Something pinched the skin at the junction of her collar and shoulder, turning into a slight burning sensation as it plunged down into the muscle. She gasped, a warm feeling suddenly spreading through her veins that made her body involuntarily relax. Her arms dropped down from where she had tried to claw at the person’s face despite her protest, her legs finally making good on their threat to be as useful as rubber noodles.
Interestingly, her head finally cleared of throbbing colors that flashed in her vision and she sighed in relief. What an unexpectedly blissful feeling that was coursing through her, almost as if she took a double dose of muscle relaxers and then dove into a hot tub. But as wonderful as her body felt, her brain was screaming at her this was wrong, so wrong, loud enough that she could still hear its warnings through the fuzzy euphoria of no longer wanting to split her head open. She groaned out some kind of noise, her throat and tongue refusing to work together, not that she was too sure what she had actually been trying to say.
She lazily followed the forearm braced across her chest with her eyes and saw at the end that a fist was holding a syringe, the needle still stabbed into her skin and all of its contents already pumped into her. She’d been drugged; poisoned or sedated she didn’t know, but it wasn’t good either way. There was hardly any coordination left in her to slap her hands around or jerk her shoulders to dislodge whoever was keeping her in place.
“We could have done this the easy way, Serena,” a voice hissed in her ear. Alesha. That bitch.
“Fff…f’ck ‘ou…” she slurred.
“I told them we should have taken you in when we first got here, you wouldn’t have put up such a fight then,” Alesha continued, more so talking to herself as the girl in her arms couldn’t formulate the most coherent replies at the moment. “And speak of the devil…”
She turned to face down the hall, Serena forced to move with her, to look at the creature poised at the other end. It growled lowly, its back arched in preparation to charge, only held back by the fact its prey was entangled with each other. Instead, it stalked forward, claws digging into the floor as it did while its tail whipped back and forth in displeasure, striking the walls each time with a resounding crack of plaster. All the while, it snarled and glowered at Alesha in warning to release what it had claimed as its own, but she held firm. The closer it got, the more clearly Serena could see the body hanging from its bared fangs, if it could still even be called that. Once it deemed itself close enough, it flicked its eyes to Serena and dropped the remains, a sickening squish when they landed before her. She could make out half of an intact spinal cord, flesh and fat looking like it had been used as chewing gum, but what part of human anatomy that was meant to formerly be was anyone’s best guess.
Behind her, she could make out Alesha muttering something about Adam being a poor bastard. She desperately wanted to thrash and kick up as violent of a fuss as she could, anything to wriggle out of her arms and maybe throw another elbow in her face. If she could play up her antics, she might have been able to goad AB299 into attacking the other agent as soon as she slipped from her grasp, but there was no way she had the functionality to do that. She also just wanted to cry and have the fit of crisis she was damn well entitled to by now. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to be absconded by a man eating monster. She didn’t want to be taken away for studies and experimentations for the man eating monster.
But she’d lost. She hadn’t escaped in time, and now she wouldn’t be escaping at all. Whatever happened to her next was out of her control seeing that she couldn’t even lift her arm all the way up to smack against Alesha’s. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair! She’d worked so hard all her life to get to where she was today, busted her ass in school and at this stupid job, defied all the odds of survival against an unknown creature, and for what? For nothing. The life she built for herself was taken from her before she could even fully enjoy the fruits of her labor, all by someone else’s decision.
“I’ll be sure C Team grabs your gift for you,” Alesha said with disdain, crinkling her broken nose in disgust of what became of her colleague.
Serena felt herself be dragged backwards as Alesha took slow, deliberate steps towards the very entrance she’d been so close to reaching, the agent careful to readjust her grip and avoid showing her back to AB299. She mentioned that it was time for all of them to go, giving faux praise to the monster as it followed without attacking, promising that sweet little Serena would be coming with it so there was no need to get too hostile. Her words sounded muffled despite being held to the agent’s body, like she was talking underwater, which made sense since she herself felt like she was floating. She whimpered again, never taking her eyes off the creature that trailed after her like a puppy. Her pathetic noise made it croon.
The entry doors opened with the chattering and footfalls of a dozen people, but Serena was too focused on the feeling of cold air on her cheeks.
–
END OF SIXTH NIGHT
–
Conclusion
Both Abnormality and Boyd were successfully captured and returned to ABC for containment.
The scene of the breakroom rampage was altered and ascribed to Ted Milton, a disgruntled employee, who returned to commit a mass casualty in retaliation and took his own life afterwards.
Victims’ families were given a large insurance payout and fully covered funerals to avoid private autopsies
News of the event was not circulated into media outside of county newspapers
–
BEHAVIOR OBSERVATION RESULTS
The following information has been updated in AB299’s file:
Management Capability: Mid-Low
Intelligence Capability: High
Dimensional planes confirmed to be how Abnormality travels between spaces and possibly where it originated from.
Abnormality can only conjure these doorways in spaces of total darkness. If possible, it will trigger a blackout to achieve this.
Abnormality is not weakened by natural or artificial light.
As of now, Boyd is the only recorded human to have access to this space
Note: Electronic devices, such as cameras or recorders, do not work when taken between planes; researchers must find a way to observe inner reality
Per Boyd’s testimonial regarding the planes, it can be concluded that –
Time in nonlinear
Colors beyond human receptors are present
Humans possess the ability to open doors back into reality from Abnormality’s dimension [Ability to be reverse engineered in future testing]
The Courtship Theory has been reopened and is currently being revised in light of Boyd’s survival.
–
Picture Left [ID - Picture of Serena Boyd taken after her arrival and assessment at ABC facility. She has been allowed to groom and change her clothes. She is not smiling.]
Utilization of Serena Boyd
Abnormality continues to show fascination for Boyd without causing harm. As such, Boyd is required to be kept in good health and in frequent contact with Abnormality.
If Abnormality believes she is being observed too much by researchers, it will hide her in dimensional planes. Boyd is typically found within the facility two to four days later.
Boyd is to be interviewed immediately after being recovered and watched until her vitals are stable for best results of understanding Abnormality’s dimension.
Boyd is to go no longer than four days without interaction with Abnormality. Failure to do so may result in a facility breach. DO NOT ALLOW HER TO DECLINE, USE SEDATION IF NECESSARY.
Do not forcibly remove Boyd from Abnormality’s containment; Abnormality will attack.
Do not use physical violence with Boyd in Abnormality’s presence; Abnormality will attack.
Do not engage inappropriate contact with Boyd in Abnormality’s presence; Abnormality will attack.
Do not inform Boyd of Abnormality’s response behaviors to her distress, this may be used against ABC personnel.
Do not allow Boyd outside of Sector 17 to minimize risk of escape.
Abnormality has shown to continue breaching containment to hunt, however it is now returning on its own accord if Boyd is left in its containment cell.
- Additional funding may be required to discover how the usage of Boyd could prevent hunting breaches entirely
–
FINAL NOTES
Full experiment results and research can be found on archived tapes relating to AB299 and Boyd. Research between the two will continue until Abnormality’s potential has been unlocked for ABC control, or Boyd is killed.
Access and travel through dimensional planes is of top priority.
THE GENERAL PUBLIC IS NOT TO BE INFORMED OF THESE ONGOING INVESTIGATIONS AND FINDINGS. ANY THREAT TO ABC’S SECURITY IN OPERATIVE RESEARCH WILL BE DEALT WITH AT THE HIGHEST LEVEL. THIS INCLUDES AIDING AND ABETTING THE DECAMP OF RESEARCH DETAINEES.
DO NOT ALLOW SERENA BOYD INTO POPULACE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
–
End of tape.
Please continue with CS# 1789-64 at supervisor’s instruction.
#g/t#giant/tiny#macro/micro#gianttiny#g/t ocs#size difference#g/t fluff#g/t angst#g/t scenario#g/t community#handheld#g/t fearplay#fearplay#whump#tiny whump#g/t whump#my writing#oc serena#oc ab299#SCP rip off#g/t writing#g/t story#this was like 4 days of backbreaking labor by which i mean my shoulders are very stiff from hunching over my keyboard owie#monsterboy#tiny whumpee#idk what other tags to use its been a hot minute#anyways what if i told you i only finished this so fast bc i wanted to draw art of them whoops#and also draw art for their sequel which has a lil dude and minigiant monstergirl (:#dont ask me when that story will be written okay let me not think of brainwords for a minute
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Glass Mind (Visual Novel)
Created by: Moonrunes3
Genre: Horror
I've been waiting for this demo for a while, and it really does have such pretty art to it. This is another r18 game and while there’s currently nothing sexual or that yandere in the first day, there will be in the future. There is also jump scares in this one so if you’re sensitive to that this is your warning.
In terms of MCs, I do think that this is one I haven’t seen a whole lot in r18 yandere games. Most of the main characters tend to be part time workers in generally low paying jobs so it was interesting see a main character that is more focused on medical student. They seem to have a decent relationship with their parents (something that’s generally not mentioned in other games I’ve played) and while they have a similar personality of being sort of disgruntled and cynical, I do think that is at least more passable in this sense.
The MC starts by moving into a new house to start their new residency at the hospital and decides to go around and introduce themselves to the neighbors. After going to talk to them, they happen upon a neighbor that seems especially isolated, not even getting to know his name or even their face when talking to him. After a short interaction, he slams the door on the MC. After going home, they fall asleep, and wake up wandering the house, with the strange feeling of being seen. The next day, the MC goes to residency to start their training. They talk (or flirt) with a nurse with Evan, where they get transferred to the psychiatric ward. There they meet five patients there and a general overview of what they do at the ward. Meeting there, we meet a patient called Cryptic, asking questions and jump scaring us. Afterwards, everyone watches a movie and the MC goes to buy groceries, meeting with the neighbor. The MC can ask the neighbor, Liu, to have dinner at their place, to which he agrees. The MC makes food and finds a very red faced Liu holding roses in front of their house. We learn a bit more about him, like his hobbies and jobs and before ending the night with a kiss. After Liu returns home, and the MC feels as if there is someone watching them.
Glass Minds as of now is still in a demo state, but I do this the visuals (especially the backgrounds) are incredibly good. I like how when Liu peeks out of his door, we can see his eyes darting around, or even when Cryptic jump scares us. I think it gives the atmosphere of something that's a bit unsettling, along with the jump scare music that plays during each transition. I do like how the backgrounds are drawn since they are very well made with a good horizon line. It's also interesting to see a MC that has a bit of a design, since from what I can tell, there's a bit of a ponytail. Liu is the yandere in this one, but I don't really know what kind of a yandere he is at the moment (it's possible there's more information on their twitter, but I have yet to look through it). I do know that the idea for this game is to have a more realistic yandere, which I'm not exactly sure what that entails. It's possible they might try to have certain diagnosis that is similar to yandere behaviors (like bpd for instance) or if they are just going to have more realistic reactions to yandere behaviors. Considering that each of the five characters the MC meets in the psychiatric ward have diagnosis for different things, it's likely the first part of it. Speaking of five characters, I'm not entirely sure what purpose they serve as of yet. I don't know if the MC will be able to help them, if they will be datable or if they will be rivals for Liu to pick off. Either one sounds interesting though. It also makes me wonder if Liu will be diagnosed with something as well, which would be interesting.
Right now, there's a lot of room for speculation on what will happen, but I do think that personally this is one of the aesthetically better made games (just purely made on appearance) in terms of the r18 yandere vn genre. It's just as of now there is basically no yandere content since it's a demo.
If you are interested in this game, please give it a shot. The demo is short and very nice to look at.
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I know you said you’ve gone back into it slowly but any book recs?
yes absolutely!! i have read some bangers lately tbh. also another thing i am trying to do is start uuuh reviewing what i'm reading so i will link a couple of those as well. but here is a sporadic collection of my reading enjoyments of the last year or so!
IF FOUND RETURN TO HELL // THE DEATH I GAVE HIM by Em X. Liu
em is hands down one of the best writers i know with prose that will punch you in the face and leave you asking if you can have another, please.
IF FOUND RETURN TO HELL is a queer found family novella featuring a done-with-this protag working in a wizarding call centre who abruptly comes down with a case of 'sweet angel baby boy possessed by demon hell child' in a broken magical healthcare system where following protocol is more important than like, helping people. so what is journeyman wen to do if not, you know, help anyway?
THE DEATH I GAVE HIM is the queer scifi hamlet retelling of my dreams, which is funny because i didn't care about hamlet until this book taught me how to. a thoughtful exploration on the nature of adaptation, death & immortality, and also what happens when your best friend is an AI and you wanna fuck him.
IN COLD BLOOD by Truman Capote the original true crime novel. still stuck in my truman blorbo moment. full review here
ASSASSIN'S APPRENTICE by Robin Hobb classic 90s fantasy with surprisingly emotional focus on the protag in a way i really dug. unhinged levels of accidental queerbaiting in a way that i enjoyed rather than despaired of. full review here.
PANDORA'S JAR: WOMEN IN THE GREEK MYTHS by Natalie Haynes a great overview of classical women that takes into account multiple sources and the way they have been read over centuries, and how the time in which a tale is being told affects the tale just as much as what the text of the story actually is. does a good job of walking the middle ground between like, historical sexism and the reflexive girlbossification instinct.
IN OTHER LANDS by Sarah Rees Brennan the queer harry potter offshoot we all actually deserve. portal fantasy with an acerbic main character who will save the world out of sheer spite because the world doesn't seem to think he can save it, or want him to do it even if he could. a genuinely lovely musing on the nature of loneliness, what abuse does to a child, how it's hard but possible to overcome the prejudices you learn when you're young, and how eventually, you're going to have to make the decision to let yourself be loved.
SHE WHO BECAME THE SUN by Shelley Parker-Chan truly i don't have the word for how fucking excellent this queer epic fantasy is. set in mongol-ruled china, this book is a masterclass in political intrigue, historical fiction, military fantasy, and also genderfuckery. feat. the kind of tragedy you see coming for several hundred pages and still takes your breath away when it hits, and also lesbian fisting. anyone who says books based in history can't get queer can get fucked.
A MARVELLOUS LIGHT by Freya Marske for a total 180 in mood, here is your queer romantic fantasy set in an Edwardian England that is reflective of the fact that like, queer people did in fact exist in Edwardian England. A lighter fare that nonetheless will hit you right in the heart and leave you delighted that a) there's a second book out now and b) the third one is coming soon. also Freya is an Artiste when it comes to writing good sex scenes, which
i belatedly realise it seems like i'm focusing on in this post but i just! like a queer text that tackles queer sex with nuance and interest and the horror and/or joy of the body, and the above authors are all fucking masters at their art (which includes, but by no means is limited to, writing about fucking)
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A Look at Hunter's Complex PTSD (Part 1)
Alrighty, here is the first part of excerpts about Complex PTSD that I have compiled from a beautiful, poignant and funny memoir, “What My Bones Know” by Stephanie Foo, which I will be linking to Hunter’s character arc with as much detail and as many screencaps as possible.
Other sources of info in these analyses are wise words from my seasoned internship supervisor (in total, about 170 supervision hours clocked in with her) during my past training before I got licensed to practice, my own lived experience with Complex PTSD, and loosely drawing anything relevant from almost 3 years’ experience with my own clients’ cases so far.
Special thanks goes to my friendo @wordsdarkerthantheirwiings (do check out her mental health blog!) for recommending this great book to me ^_^
Trigger warnings have been tagged in this post, and there will be multiple mentions of trauma and abuse in this series that I’m putting together.
I will be sharing parts of the book by following the order of the chapters, while the Hunter scenes might occasionally jump here and there and not be as chronological in order.
I’ll start with the author’s first overview of how PTSD works:
Someone with PTSD has a brain which tends to flag things on a scale of life-or-death. Their brain will shoot out what it believes to be the appropriate emotional response to perceived danger.
The above pic is so important. It may not be “reasonable” or “rational” as what we know those two words to mean on a normal day, but dare I say that it is its own reasoning and rationale. It’s a condition whereby the brain forms powerful associations after a life-or-death experience (or many such experiences), with the goal of protecting us but which can be debilitating after the real danger has passed. You could say it’s a state of being overprepared, almost constantly.
Related to the above statement, I’ll show one of the more light-hearted moments from Hollow Mind that happened before the true horrors really showed themselves in the second half of that episode:
It’s a more comical moment here, but the “Boo!” sound from the walkie talkie triggered a very believable response from Hunter. He raises his hands automatically to shield himself, in case he gets attacked. It’s not the exact pose as when he flinches when Belos makes physical contact with him (my bet is that if Hunter raised his arms high like this in front of Belos, he may have been punished or chastised for not standing stoic, strong and portraying “proper” Golden Guard strength) but is kind of along the same lines.
However, Hunter has undergone very strict military training, requiring him to be prepared for new scenarios including strange foreign noises or stimuli, which I would say has been both a risk factor and protective factor in his life. This will be covered in greater detail in future analyses. Therapists use the terms "risk factors" and "protective factors" when looking at what may worsen or improve our clients' conditions.
Related to above, Titan knows how many times Hunter has been struck and threatened like this, traumatized perhaps hundreds of times over the course of years:
Importantly, I believe he has gone through both Big T (e.g. a single life-changing event like a car accident) and Little T trauma (many ‘smaller’ instances, like getting yelled at four times a week over a duration of years), since this can certainly be the case for some people. In later parts of this exploration, I will cite examples of the various Big T and Little T traumas Hunter has experienced.
Like what happened with the book author, making mistakes is especially dangerous in Hunter’s case because Belos heavily implies that he will disown him or get rid of him if he slips up enough.
Dozens of people have also let him down and have been bystanders:
Is the world a threat to him? Well, there are very few places where he would feel safe. Hell, I bet he’s even safer while away on missions than when he is in his own room. But he always had to return home to the castle, or else. He has been manipulated into placing the most trust in the one person who cares the least for him.
In the following section, the author highlights how she would see flashes of her abusive father in other people, even years after her father left the picture:
For Hunter, being physically distant from Belos didn't erase his triggers. Him preparing for a possible strike from Darius in Any Sport in a Storm:
and the mirror scene in Thanks to Them, where he panics after seeing a flash of Belos as he is looking at his own long hair:
are relevant examples of him feeling as if his abuser is right there, when Belos isn’t actually present.
I have a few of my own examples, the first of which is how I had a couple of peers in classes who had bullying tendencies: and they would have crooked smiles and narrowed eyes that are eerily similar to my own parents’ expressions whenever I had traumatizing moments with my parents. Whenever these people had those evil-looking grins, I would either feel intense fear and/or rage.
Plus on two different occasions, I thought an abusive ex-housemate of mine that I lived with for 2 years was in the same room..many months after I got away from her.
The first incident was seeing someone who looked almost exactly like her (her beanie hat, black coat and black boots were the exact same shades and shapes), just a different hair colour and slightly diff eye shape, in a bookstore. Till today I still have no idea why this other girl stopped whatever she did just to stare at me with a sullen expression across the store space for maybe half a minute. I remember freezing and hiding behind the two friends I was with, whispering to them “I feel like that could be her…”, in case that girl turned out to be really her, because I felt she was still not done with criticizing my mistakes from our shared group project and saying awful things to me several months before that, even though I already blocked her across all platforms in 2015 and made a callout post here on Tumblr without naming her.
The second incident was a year after, when I was at the office and scrolled past a photo of Kristen Stewart (of all people..my ex-housemate looks a lot like her, especially the mouth) on my laptop, and for a solid minute I very strongly smelled this ex-friend’s perfume. I remember darting around wildly because I was beginning to believe she had followed me all the way there to sneak up on me, in the office that had doors locked with security codes. I felt she was about to turn a nearby blind corner and come for me. But the scent faded away after a minute, and I was left there in shock that my broken brain reenacted a scenario involving her presence and her perfume. Fascinating, honestly. Luckily Kristen Stewart pics no longer scare me like that.
So yeah, the Hunter mirror scene…I felt that spooky stuff. Eerie, right? PTSD, what more Complex PTSD, can rewire your brain and it does try its best to protect you, but it can be rather wonky sometimes. Children who are abused in a manner that results in Complex PTSD are hyper-alert to even the smallest twinges in facial expressions.
To continue:
Our poor boy might have been jumpy and guarded in a number of other scenarios, potentially misinterpreting or simply not knowing what was going to happen, therefore his whole body was geared up for a fight-or-flight response:
Thank goodness he had Flapjack in those months, along with the friends he would meet, and later Camila as well.
Like the author, Hunter definitely does not have one foundational trauma. Having been isolated by Belos, he was alone and defenseless in that throne room many many times. He has emerged with so many visible scars on his body and having to create his own identity on his own terms. At this rate, exposure therapy would not be enough as a treatment plan for him. His web of relationships and interactions with people and the world need a major reframing, for his state of being and view of self to be positive and leading to peace and self-acceptance. In fact, this reframing has already been unfolding gradually, with twists and turns along the way:
And losing Flapjack recently and feeling the effects of moral injury, may be the ultimate test for him as to where to place his trust. One of those places has to be in himself in order to advance forward.
The book is about how the author found hope in having to live with Complex PTSD for the rest of her life, and her early years of investigating what happened to her seemed bleak. However, she found relevant people to contact and interview over the years, to uncover new hopeful sources of info about the condition, which will be in my later analyses.
Is Hunter a lost cause (quoting Belos’s awful words from Thanks to Them..)? I wouldn’t say so! I obviously hope he’ll be alright in the remaining two specials…
Stay tuned for Part 2 next weekend.
#toh hunter#golden guard#toh analysis#the owl house#abuse mention#trauma mention#long post#complex ptsd#cptsd#hunter's cptsd#loz writes a meta
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We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 27
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader
Words: 4,779
Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: GOODNIGHT AND GOOD MOURNING
Bucky counts two rings of the doorbell and six knocks. Second ring in case the first wasn't heard, six heavy knocks in case the doorbell might be broken, and yet despite this extra work, he never actually had any real expectations for the door to open on its own. Unfortunately, he gave up hope on that a few weeks ago.
Setting some bags down by his feet and cursing when they immediately tip over, he uses his new free hand to fish through his pocket, succeeding in not only finding his keys, but the correct one to unlock this blasted barrier before him.
Per usual, he's greeted with an eerily dark hallway that seems fitting for the start of a horror movie. Shuffling through the door with another curse as the same pesky bags get caught on the handle, he kicks it shut behind himself then calls out into the darkness as if it would reply, "Hey...It's me!"
Unfazed by the greeting of silence, he leaves his boots and coat there before making a b-line for the kitchen, pleased to leave all his grocery bags there to officially free himself of their incontinent weight. He goes to the fridge first, not to put anything away, but rather to grimace at the barren sight inside. Some condiments, a little bit of milk, veggies that look past their expiration date, and a half rack of beer…Good thing he went shopping.
Walking around the bar and into the living room, Bucky almost makes the mistake of going further which would've taken him right past the couch and, more importantly, the motionless lump lying there. When he does spot it in the corner of his eyes, he sighs - for some reason he still has a reason to sigh despite this having become a despairing routine as of lately.
Slowly, he steps over the few empty beer bottles on the floor and squats next to the couch where his frown only grows deeper as he pokes the lump, "It's past noon...You should get up and eat something - You need to get up and eat something."
He only gets a groan in response, but at least that's better than continued silence.
"I bought groceries. I can make something if you want?" Nothing, "...Or I can even order some take-out. Anything particular in mind?"
"...I don't want anything..."
Bucky inhales, although he tries not to make it sound so sharp. Standing upright and grabbing the empty bottles, he heads back into the kitchen, “...You’ll make yourself sick living off of beer alone, you know?”
"For your information, I had ramen yesterday."
"I'm proud of you," He's truly sincere, not that you'd believe that, "That means today, we can have something other than beer or ramen. Now, what do you feel like? I was thinking we could just do a simple, early dinner. I got some frozen pizza. Maybe we can have that and do a movie night or somethin' - just enjoy an easy going, lazy day. What do you say? I wouldn't mind another marathon of Lord of the Rings. You still keep the extended cuts under the TV stand, yeah?”
He’s rambling and normally, you find it enduring, however today - and for the last few weeks - his voice has been a distant echo in your head; nothing but a dull mumble against the terrible thoughts that overtake your care and concern. It makes you feel shitty in every way possible. Bucky visits every day without fail, armed with unlimited patience and kindness that he somehow manages to smother you in without actually smothering you (it’s been painfully obvious that he’s desperately trying to give you some space while still being present).
"Oh yeah, and I also got your favorite. They had it next to check-out. 'thought you'd like some," Even when a candy bar is waved in front of your face, your eyes barely shift to it before disappearing from sight when you curl further into your blanket sanctuary.
"...No thank you.”
Although his smile does wobble a bit into a frown, Bucky forces himself not to break; not here, not in front of you. He’d be an absolute hypocrite to complain, after all, it was him who spent several years moping which (unintentionally) dragged you into quite a lot of trouble. You pulled him from that hole, giving him the support he needed to move on from his past as hard as that had been. Now it’s his turn to return the favor.
Still - and he’s afraid he might be thinking selfishly with this, but there are days where he just wants to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, and force you to go outside for once because the worry is eating away at him right now. It’s been weeks since the Snap - Well, five years for everyone else, but only a few measly weeks since the two of you had been thrown into this whirlwind of events that have left you both shaken.
It’s strange to think you can close your eyes and find out five years have passed. It’s even stranger to be thrown into a war for the universe immediately after, receiving no chance to process everything going on until you’re left with nothing. Natasha, Tony, Steve…The people who you cared for are gone and you never got to say goodbye - not in the way you wanted.
You were so damn happy, too. At long last, you had fixed your life, surrounded by people who were close to Hollie or at least understood that you were once her. No more pretending nor biting your tongue; you were free to just be you, both as Hollie and (Y/n). To think, you were actually excited for your future for the first time in, well, years - decades, even…then it all came tumbling down within mere minutes…Now you’re left with the shattered remains yet again and can’t help but ask yourself: how many more times? When will you have suffered enough?
"...(Y/n)...” Bucky breathes your name and you notice the crack behind his voice as he kneels down beside you, gently moving a strand of hair away from your face, “I’m not asking for you to be okay or to move on. I’m just asking that you take care of yourself a little better. You’re not eating, you haven’t left the apartment in days - I don’t even think you’re really sleeping either. I -...I’m getting really worried about you, darling…”
He has a point. You know he has a point because this isn’t the first time you’ve been here. If anything, you should be an expert on grief and recovery, having learned from experience that wallowing doesn’t bring anyone back…so why do you still feel like utter shit then? You should be a productive member of society, counting your blessings and moving on because you’re lucky enough to even be here. So many people have it worse than you. Bucky, for example. He lost Steve, too. He tries to brush it off, but you see the pain in his eyes. Steve didn’t die or anything. He just…left. He left both of you willingly despite the suffering you’ve already been cursed with…He abandoned you both with it and while you want to be happy for him and happy that he got to be with Peggy in the end as they both deserved…you can’t help feeling pissed…betrayed even…
Bucky has a right to be mad, too. He should have his own time to grieve for himself instead of being stuck in this dark apartment babying you. Even if he has already moved on (not that you’d believe it), that would be all the more reason for him to go live his life. Why does he keep fussing over you when he should be taking care of himself?
“I’m getting really worried about you, darling…”
…You wish you could make Bucky happy. You want him to be happy, having moved on from all those awful things HYDRA had done to the quiet, simple life he desires, yet selfishly at the same time, you don’t actually want to let him go. You’re stuck in this awful limbo where you want to throw in the towel and give up on everything you’ve worked so hard on throughout the years, after all, it sure didn’t take long to crumble around you, but at the same time, you’re so tired of feeling alone…You don’t want to go back to that life even if it means desperately grasping at strings and dragging poor Bucky down with you…
At long last you peek out from behind your blanket, lazily gazing up at the man in question. There was once a time when you would shamelessly swoon at the thought of having his affection and admittedly, you’re heart still flutters at hearing his concern for you, however after the Snap, you can’t help feeling numb inside as if your heart is covered in frozen ice that even Bucky can’t chip away…at least, that's what you had begun to believe until finally getting a good look at him.
Your heart speeds up so suddenly it makes a wave of nausea run over your entire body, making you feel a bit more awake than you had been before. For once you find energy for something and that's to wiggle your arm out from under the blankets, reaching until your fingers manage to touch the top of his head.
"...You cut your hair," You observe so stupidly, avoiding his eyes as you focus only on his new haircut which is quite the change. Yesterday he had his hair pulled back into a bun while complaining of the heat, however today, his long locks are gone, leaving a rather short yet soft fluff behind.
"Yeah...'got it done this morning," He slightly bows his head down towards you more, burning through all his willpower not to fully lean into your touch. He’s as cautious with his movements as he is in watching your expression and asking the question, “Do you like it…?”
You finally allow yourself to look at his face, your fingers just barely running along his cheek on their way to falling limb against the couch again. For a brief second anyone could miss, your lip quivers, but you do good to press it back the same way you blink away any tears threatening to make an appearance. Maybe Bucky notices, maybe he doesn’t.
"...It’s a good look on you,” You inhale, eyes drifting over his facial features to catch every detail because at this point you’ve abandoned all caution. You’ll accept in this moment that you’re being selfish and you’ll also decide not to care, “...You clean up nicely, Barnes. Who would’ve guessed?”
Bucky beams - quite literally, he beams with a boyish grin and glitter to his eyes after hearing you say something more akin to your usual self. Oh, how he’s missed your teasing. Sure, your voice is cracked and barely more than a whisper, but it’s progress he won’t object to. He also doesn’t object to you slowly sitting up while running a hand through your own messy air and sighing at your headache.
“So, um…A movie marathon, you said?”
“Unless you have anything else in mind?”
You press your lips, never letting the hand fall from your head. There’s a voice inside who tries to argue, reminding you that it’ll only end in more heartbreak if you try yet again to pick up the pieces of Hollie’s life, but God, it’s so damn difficult with Bucky’s adorable, hopeful smile. He’s attached to you even without understanding the truth. He cares for (Y/n), he worries about you…That’s supposed to be a good thing, right? You wanted that - wanted to know that he could love you as you, not as just Hollie, however there’s a side of you that doesn’t feel quite right about it for some reason…some reason you’ll ignore.
“...No. A movie night sounds fun…”
Baby steps - that’s what it took for you to start functioning again after Bucky’s supposed death seventy eight years ago; lots and lots of baby steps. Misery doesn’t disappear overnight which is a cruel truth that hasn’t changed between then and the modern era, although misery does fade overtime if you can successfully focus on the things you like and the things you still have.
You might not have your family to pull you out of this funk like last time, but at least you have Bucky (a bittersweet switch, if anything). He’s kept you distracted with different movies he wants to watch and recipes he’d like to bake. He’s always around, in fact you’ve already told him he can keep that spare key to your apartment because honestly, neither of you can remember that last time he’s actually stayed at his own.
Once you stopped stubbornly pushing him away, Bucky was allowed to bear witness to some of the demons that have been haunting your mind since the Snap. It’s safe to say you’ve done your fair share of crying in front of him, letting your frustrations slip as you curse Thanos and the universe and anyone who can possibly be linked to causing your current pain. You’ve expressed your anger with Steve, your sorrow over Natasha, and mourning for Tony.
You’re thankful that, no matter what sobs or curses have escaped you, Bucky has never filled the gap with unrealistic promises that everything will ‘be okay’. You’ve grown tired of hearing that from others, so it’s been refreshing to have someone instead hold you during your moments of vulnerability while promising that they’ll always be there for you when life gets rough.
Thanks largely to Bucky’s encouragement and support, you’ve gotten better. Not ‘better’ as in fully fixed, but ‘better’ as in you can find the strength to go on errands into town and ensure you’re maintaining a healthy diet again.
Life seems to have returned to a small sense of normal again, strongly reminding you of your stay in Romania which you had treasured so much. Coffee together in the mornings, afternoons discussing each other’s day, movie nights, and take-out dinner…It’s no wonder that your parents have inquired about your ‘boyfriend’. Your relationship sure seems to be leaning that way from the outside looking in (more than it ever has before) and, despite how desperately you try to ignore it, sometimes you find yourself drifting too far into the domestic bliss the same way you had in Romania, dangerously letting your guard down until you’re ripped back into reality by an unwanted and awful reminder…First it had been Steve appearing in your apartment those seven years ago, now this…
“You know…” Bucky’s voice easily gains your attention, earning a pleasant hum as you curl your head closer to his chest in acknowledgment.
It’s hot out today meaning the air conditioning’s been blasting with a box fan rumbling mere feet away, yet you’ve still filed no complaint towards cuddling close to his side on the couch while binging an entire season of The Office.
Despite your patience waiting for a response, it doesn’t come too promptly. Instead he awkwardly adjusts his arm around you and swallows before speaking, “...We should go out to dinner tomorrow night.”
You’re both blind and deaf to his shyness, merely perking an eyebrow without taking your eyes off the screen, “Why tomorrow? Are you on a diet that says you can’t eat dinner on Tuesday nights?”
Usually he’d chuckle at such a comment, and he nearly does, a short sound making it past his lips which he quickly bites back, “N-No, I mean, we’ll still eat dinner tonight obviously, I was just trying - I’d like to go somewhere nice together. Sit down dining, type deal.”
Finally understanding the hint, you become a bit nervous yourself, “How ‘nice’ are we exactly talking? Red Robins kinda nice or um…make a reservation nice?”
“Nicer than Red Robins…” He rubs the back of his neck with a shrug, although you don’t get a chance to voice your concerns because he skillfully spots them first, “Don’t worry about money or anything like that. I’ve been saving. I was thinking I’d treat ya’ - take you out to dinner someplace special for the evening…I promised after all.”
Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise when you push away from him so quickly that you almost fall off the couch. It would be one thing for you to just turn and look at him, however your movements are desperate as if his touch had suddenly burned you. The way you’re actually looking at him doesn’t help, either. You appear as if you’ve seen a ghost, face pale and eyes wild as you stare.
“W-When?”
“Huh -?”
“When did you promise that?” You whisper rather cautiously, only further confusing the poor man.
“In Wakanda? A week or so before you came there I promised that when we see each other again, I’d take you out to dinner - as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” Bucky frowns, visibly concerned about your behavior, enough so that he hesitates to reach out to you, “Are you alright -?”
“- I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea…‘sounds kinda like a date, don’t you think?” You try to calm your heartbeat through deep yet casual breaths, even attempting a poor laugh at the end of your sentence, however it’s clear such struggling is useless; that damage has already been done.
Bucky bows his head in shame while slowly retracing his hand, “...Would a date be so bad?”
You open your mouth only to close it, fearing the nausea that bubbles within your stomach. This isn’t how you expected your reaction to be. You’ve been dreaming of this moment, desperately hoping for the day Bucky asks you out so that you can finally rekindle that relationship you once had and miss dearly. It would have to be by his own terms, you decided long ago, not wanting to push him by making the move yourself, however secretly, there has been another reason for waiting - a certain anxiety that has interested in relevance over these last nine years.
"The second I get back, I'm taking you out to dinner - a nice place, too, I've been saving.”
“Let me do this for you, Hollie. Eight o'clock sharp. Houghton's. I'd say wear something nice, but you look dazzling in anything."
It isn’t easy having lived two lives. It isn’t easy having the memories of a different person - although still you - who remains in pieces only inside your mind and personality. You’re Hollie. You’ve maintained certain traits of hers and you continue to love all that she had…but you’re also (Y/n). You don’t look the same and you endured a new childhood, in a new world, with a new family…While in your own eyes, you’d argue that this change is minimum, equivalent to the way a child changes into a teen and a teen into an adult, there’s has always been a fear hidden within your heart that others might not see the same.
What if someone who knew you then doesn’t like who you are now?
You were able to set that question aside for the others. Steve knew Hollie as a friend. You were close, although your interactions were limited and rarely were you alone. Frankly, you became closer during your time as (Y/n) when each other's support was needed more than ever. Tony knew Hollie as an aunt when he was very young. His image of you was built upon four years of vague memories with your care and support being at the forefront; that’s all he expected from (Y/n)...Neither of them truly compared to Bucky, a man who loved Hollie in more ways than one and got to know her best despite your short time together.
What if he doesn’t like who you are now?
Bucky loved Hollie - he still loves her. You saw her picture in his wallet once when he brought groceries over. You’re okay with that part alone, however you worried that if you immediately told him from the very beginning that you’re the same person as that girl in the photo - from that first day you found him in DC - would he have only loved you because of Hollie? Because the concept of being with you was his only chance of being with her again?
It’s ridiculous and foolish. You act jealous of yourself, although you honestly believed it to be in the best interest for both of you. You don’t want to exist solely as a living memory, not an individual, and you don’t think it would’ve been healthy for Bucky, either. He needed to love you for who you are now. He needed to move on in some way.
He has moved on. Hollie’s still kept close to his heart, yet he’s sitting here now asking for you. He’s spent months - no, years probably - loving you and looking to you as a means to finally be happy. This is exactly what you wanted…so why do you still feel so shitty inside?
"(Y/n)!”
You turn your head. You can tell by his eyes that Bucky didn’t mean to raise his voice, but at least it gained your attention at last. Cautiously, he reaches for you again, this time committing to the action. It’s only when the cold metal of his thumb runs along your cheek that you realize you’re crying.
“...It doesn’t have to be a date. We don’t even have to go. Don’t -...Don’t worry about it, alright? It’s not that big of a deal?” Oh, but it is. Bucky’s such a terrible liar. If it truly wasn’t a big deal, then why did his voice crack with a dejected undertone?
“I-I’m sorry…I’m sorry. I’m just…being emotional for no reason at all,” You huff mostly to yourself, miserably attempting to rub the tears away with the edges of your sleeves. Bucky has much better luck at it, carefully using his thumbs and palms to catch your tears. All the while, he searches your eyes for any sign of harm which almost makes you forget your sadness…almost…
Meeting his gaze, you move a hand of your own to his cheek, smiling softly, “I’d love to go on a date with you, James.”
“But -”
“- I’m afraid.”
His mouth snaps shut after your whisper and it takes him a second to meet it, equally as silent, “...Why?”
You don’t answer too promptly yourself. A keen eye would notice your hesitation as you heavily debate your next action, although you hide it well behind the admiration you seem almost drunk on while running your hand back into Bucky’s much shorter hair. For years you’ve bit your tongue and danced around your inner thoughts which has been a tiring endeavor for sure, enough so that in a moment like this, you’ve lost the willpower to keep the act up, choosing to instead speak directly from your heart regardless of the risk.
“...You’ve always been so good to me, James. ‘a real knight in shining armor…You know, I was so alone before I met you, not thinkin’ I’d ever find someone who could keep up with my nonsense. Others figured me to be crazy, that or they were intimidated by me being too ‘unique’, as my family put it. Whether I tried to change or not, it didn’t matter because if I wasn’t different to the world, I was different to myself. There was no winning and my displacement only seemed to grow with age. ‘started to believe the universe cursed me for some reason - that I must’ve done something terrible in my past or perhaps I was simply too happy at some point, leaving an overdrawn balance now…I didn’t want to do it anymore, but then you came around again. You gave me hope - meaning, even.
“I feel happy with you - very happy, as if I can breathe easy and just be myself without ever worrying about judgment again because as long as you like me, that’s all I need to know that I’m not crazy,” Bucky opens his mouth, but he doesn’t get a chance when you gently place a finger to his lips, “You mean sooo much to me, James, in fact I don’t think you’ll ever be able to truly understand the full extent of my love for you…and that’s what scares me. There’s…Well, there’s something I need to tell you, but I’m afraid that whenever I do, you’ll push me away. Whether it’s because you don’t believe me or you get mad at me -”
“- I could never get mad at you, darling -”
“- You say that now and I'm sure you believe it, but once you hear what I have to say, you might change your mind -”
“- I don’t think that’s possible -”
“- James -”
“- You said that I might not understand the extent of your love, but I don’t think you understand mine,” He interrupts more sternly, slowly grasping your wrist and lowering your hand over his heart. He holds it there and doesn’t let go, a hint of shyness in his eyes, “You mean a lot to me - you have meant a lot to me for a while now. Around you, I feel relaxed a-as if all those things HYDRA had done never happened. I start to think that I might actually deserve a happy life by your side and even if I don’t, then fuck it, I don’t find myself caring. I want to be with you anyways because every second that I’m not, I’m restless like a piece of me is gone…Being here with you, I…It’s a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time…There’s nothing you could say to make it suddenly go away.”
You chuckle apprehensively with a shake of your head, letting your gaze finally fall from his, “...I bet I could…”
“I highly doubt it,” He rolls his eyes, leaning close enough for his own quiet laughter to be felt. You steal a glance at his lips, nearly giving into your own temptation to touch them, although you hesitate there instead.
“You don’t know -”
“- I don’t need to then -”
“- This is serious, James!” You plead weakly, trying to pull your hand from his and move off his lap where you just now notice he’s brought you, yet it should be of no surprise that he’s stronger than you and won’t let this matter drop so easily without resolve.
Your actions cause his concern to return and he becomes serious once again, his stormy eyes watching you so very carefully with his bottom lip puffed out in a pout, “...What’s really wrong, (Y/n)? I don't get it. You just said that you love me too and that must be true - I believe that it's true because, I mean, why else would you have stuck by my side after all the shit I’ve dragged you into? I-If I have to do more to prove my love for you, I will, if that’s what has you so worried - Or if you’re not ready for a relationship yet, that’s fine, too. Just…tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it. No more beatin’ around the bush…Please, darling…”
Suddenly, your eyes feel so stern watching him despite the tears that fill them as you slightly bow your head in what you would deem as shame, although he might mistake it for anger given how persistent and strange you’re behaving. He’s all ears, though. Maybe slightly taken aback by your vulnerable speech, but this isn’t the first time you’ve expressed your inner thoughts with him since the Snap and he’s here to listen without judgment as he’s always been. He just hopes he didn’t make you uncomfortable by overstepping.
Usually you're the one to make him flustered. He thought all of your prior flirting meant he was safe to ask you out, however he’s now starting to second guess all of that. He hasn’t dated since Hollie, after all. He’s been out of the game for so long, it’s completely possible that he read the situation wrong. Then again, you just admitted to loving him, so what’s stopping you? You had assured long ago that you have no actual fiancé, he's certain you aren't dating anyone else at the moment, and you've both gone in public countless times together, so surely you aren't ashamed to be seen with him even despite his muddy past. Is it too soon after the Snap? Are you just not ready for commitment? Why are you suddenly acting so hesitant as if you haven't spent the last several years longing for each other?
"...Bucky," He shallows somewhat nervously when you whisper his name, meeting eyes once again, "...I'm Holiday Stark..."
NEXT CHAPTER ->
<- PREVIOUS CHAPTER
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky fic#bucky x y/n#james buchanan barnes#captain america cw#captain america#falcon and winter soldier#winter solider x y/n#winter solider x reader#winter soldier#sam wilson#steve rogers#stark!reader#tony stark#natasha romanoff#marvel#x reader#reader insert
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#921: imelda headcanons post - 2
@amberlide you ask and I shall answer! But first, a bit of context:
Brainrot has affected this section more than it did yesterday, but general line is basically this: Imelda is a lesbiantragedy of a girl. Tough veneer for confidence and uncertainty in attitudes didn't make her favours. Bear in mind: the Brainrot stretches far beyond the game's timeline; when I'll get to thee requested, it's 7th year and beyond. Before that comes a brief overview; I'm not sure it's not convoluted.
Please note: I'm an ace, my NSFW is very mild but nsfw nonetheless.
This post also includes general relationship headcanons. NSFW ones are under the cut. Without further ado,
IMELDA REYES HEADCANONS:
Imelda was quick to accept herself but wasn't sure her family wouldn't be quicker to cut her off or turn a blind eye and think she will grow out of 'these games';
These fears were unwarranted, nobody gets to talk Imelda down when her abuela is around, but it all got on her nerves nonetheless because of the uncertainty they brought. Imelda hated it. She needed everything to be lied out clear or, to the very least, giving her a sense of traversability, of direction;
As you can imagine, a girl she doesn't know is a whole new world of uncertainty;
Getting more than a fling requires a different set of skills, too. But how to build friendships, how to entrust people with stuff and how to let them close without risking being hurt were questions Imelda tried to attach to a set of answers she collected from Merlin knows where but all of her efforts went in vain. Girls as abrasive as her, Constance and Charlotte -- both were Quidditch players, they were beaters, and Charlotte was the captain for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, -- had more confidence than she did, was certain in what sought from the relationship, and would eventually just… leave. Not to mention these were school romances, you can imagine the drama, the horror, everything really;
Imelda is terrible at breaking ups even if she needn't anything more than a fling. She gets attached to people; it became easier for her with age but here's the catch: in the Brainrot, by which this all is powered, she can't know the extent of the severity of this attachment issue -- or to determine if this is even the issue -- because when she could've let go and start anew, she sort of went va-bank and although she won, at the moment it felt detrimental to her character and to the relationship she'd gotten into;
It caused her to treat any further relationship as such. A meet up, no commitment, no talk, no obligation, all-nonchalance, despite it all being out of her usually committed-to-the-bit character;
In conclusion, as @celestial--sapphic once put it, she's a girlfailure in her own right (and she's her own worst enemy at times);
To the other people, however, it doesn't look she is desperately trying to hide a beaming weakness. No, she must be valuing her time a tremendous lot, besides, people seem easily discardable to her, she'll practically smash anyone with her overbearing aplomb;
Brainrot: Not to write an essay but imagine a situation: 1) her 2) her bestie-rival MC on whom she has a crush 3) MC's girlfriend Poppy -> 4) Imelda gets super jealous and fumes the world does not know fair game. Cloudy with a chance of occasional girlfailing right here;
Brainrot: Not to write an essay but [2] the result of it was Imelda started to gain confidence she lacked with the besties' help*;
It isn't the kind of confidence needed to wear a shield for expletives to see them bouncing off of her but the one that comes from the satisfaction with life; doesn't necessarily mean sex but any point of contention. In Imelda's case, it was finding people she could trust;
Subsequently, it sorted her feedback-receiving issues. Might sound like an insight from my side and it is: core support group greatly reduces the feeling of dread and anxiety because they are the audience who love and adore and support you no matter what;
That being said, Imelda favours being on the receiving end of the praise, she craves positive and encouraging feedback whenever;
Imelda can be incredibly attentive in addition to being insightful; she easily spots patterns and notices links and correlations. It may be attributed to her natural abilities but most of it are trained and acquired traits after years of playing a ridiculously harsh and tough game of Quidditch. She needs to see where to fly and how, she must be aware of the positions of at least four people at any given moment midair in a 3D space; no wonders she could play out the entire chess session in her head and advise moves;
Her tease isn't a warm up, it's a field study and a subtle way to have an ongoing conversation about the preference for rough(less)ness;
She prefers to have things -- anything really -- under not her direct control but within the grasp of her immediate comprehension. Yes, Quidditch again. Being aware of available options and paths to take gives her the mettle to keep tackling the unfamiliar and cross sets of obstacles, especially when she's given a couple of affirmations;
While not calling her possessive, I would say she is assertive and inspires her lovely/ies with a sense of trust, just hold her hand;
Nor I'd say she is overly controlling and/or domineering; it requires too much mental exertion to act like this all the time; the only thing Imelda would need from this act are to ward off people she doesn't trust and have her boundaries well-established, neither she'd want her gf to feel weirded out by the implication of smn being tamed. Meaning, she wouldn't want to have an overkill in outward attitude;
But you bet she will pull off stunts to spice things up on occasion;
Words 'Imelda' and 'being inappropriate' are put synonymous btw;
Dirty talk;
Words 'Imelda' and 'physicality' are mutually interchangeable ftw;
Imelda likes to be physically there. PDA isn't her strongest suit but when privy she'll steal space, hug, and pester just to remind she's there; being physically close, in every sense of it, means a lot to her, it's her telling her loneliness she's by herself no more -- and to her lovely/ies they could put aside the wary of ever losing touch;
Imelda enjoys receiving praise but ^this effectively renders her a little sex pest who is always up to body worship and up to a little bit of compliment bombing because pleasing people makes them go soft and flustered, they'll give as good as they get >:3c;
as u can see imelda is a sly snek, she was put in the right house;
Brainrot: all of the above is the general summary of adult imelda without mentioning the important transition from a meek and an insecure bad-mouthed bitch to cutthroat and frisky Bitch. That, frank, asks for its own fic and it is sitting in my drafts.
Melly Gal kicks ass and doesn't like to remember her 15yo self when she's 25; she laughs at her teenage dramas when she's 35 and older.
tags: @thriftstorebabayaga -- it has breached containment again.
*I'm yet to become comprehensively cohesive with this part of the Brainrot bruv, but atm you can read more here and here. Also, this. If you thought it's a monolith of delulu: 1) it is; 2) explaining my MC is helluva task, her story reaches and goes full wlw romance around her ~7th year and ensues into Disaster Lesbians vs Bureaucracy trope (?).
#днявочка#eng tag#днявочка: hlegacy#utlitd brainrot#hogwarts legacy#imelda reyes#hogwarts inquires#днявочка: фандомное
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A Brief Overview of Fear & Hunger
I made an earlier post about it here but I wanted to put it out in a long form just in case it would be easier to view.
I'll touch on the game's over all aspects and what it's about in this post.
If anyone is interested in hearing more about this game (or its sequel) feel free to let me know and I can go into greater depth!
FEAR & HUNGER
I love this game enough that I wanted to talk about it and show it off. As much as I do love it, I know full well that this is definitely not a game for most people. It’s unkind and unforgiving to beginners- even to veteran players- and it has a LOT of themes that center around things of a SENSITIVE and UNCOMFORTABLE nature. The content warnings in the opening screen isn’t simply for show and should be taken very seriously. With this in mind, I’ll be giving a basic look into the game so people that are curious about it, wanting to play it, or uncertain that it’s something they would be interested in will get a better feel for the game. That being said, as someone that has sunk a good amount of time into this game, I’ll say this:
It’s the meanest goddamn game I’ve ever played and I absolutely love the pain.
Warnings
There’s plain warnings for *extreme* violence, gore, sexual violence and drug use. They AREN’T kidding! I write horror erotica for a living. I’ve written some crazy shit in my time, and even I was left taken aback and surprised/shocked at some of the things that happened in the game. It doesn’t sugar coat anything and there’s definitely no room for weakness in the dungeon of Fear & Hunger, so take these warnings to heart. If you need some brief examples so you don’t waste your time:
First enemy in the game has a stinger dick and yes- he WILL use it for its intended purpose.
Human sacrifice is okay!
Cannibalism is okay!
Blood orgies are a thing and it’s probably exactly what you’re expecting.
Child abuse!
Pocket Cat (ew)
And one of my favorites (/s)- genital mutilation!
All of these are (pretty much) graphically displayed and not censored, so if anything of this is a major hard ew fuck NO for you, it’s definitely not a game for you. Which is fine, cause damn this game is fucking mean, as I stated before. But if you are still interested (or curious) then we’ll get into the very basics of what the game is, the playable characters, and the general feel for what an average (not Hardmode) run would look like.
Playable Characters
There are a total of four playable characters in the game, all of which act as a sort of separate “class” system, if you will. They all have their own abilities but every single teachable skill can be learned by any of the characters… IF the correct requirements are met. There’s lots of small, specific details when dealing with creating the character you want to play as (both as you start the game in the “backgrounds” section and in the game, itself, as you progress) but I just want to give a feel for exactly what they have to offer instead of the little things that will complicate things unnecessarily. For the moment, we’ll just see what (or who) we can play as in Fear & Hunger.
Mercenary (Cahara)
First of the four listed. He is the “rogue/thief” class, if you will. I highly recommend him for beginning players, as his perks are some of the most useful early on that remain relevant throughout the entire game. He can use any weapon type or any armour kind.
The Mercenary’s perks are as follows: Lockpick, Steal, Escape Plan, En Garde and Dash.
Lockpick: Exactly what it advertises- you can pick *MOST locks in the game (if it requires a Small Key, it can be picked, however some doors are “locked from the other side” and thus cannot be picked.)
Steal: Again, you get what you see. This is a skill you use in combat, which can award you with some pretty decent loot at the cost of a precious turn.
Escape Plan: Pretty much as it states, it gives you a far greater chance of successfully running from/escaping a battle. Extremely useful, as you will be doing this… A LOT, regardless of how well equipped you are throughout the entire game.
En Garde: Hold the skill button (SHIFT on keyboard) before an encounter gives you an extra move in battle. An excellent skill, as the only other way to get such an opportunity is through item/accessory/in battle skill usage.
Dash: A special one, as this is something ALL characters are capable of starting with, as long as you choose the right options when creating a backstory for your character. Another perk I recommend for ANY player, regardless of their familiarity with the game. It’s something I, personally, cannot play with because you outrun most enemies with this bad boy in your arsenal.
Decent starting equipment: a scimitar that does slash damage (great for early enemies) and a leather vest with okay defense.
Knight (D’arce Cataliss)
Second of the four listed. She is the “warrior/knight” class, if you can believe it. She’s definitely a lot harder than the Mercenary in terms of not having a lot of perks to access different areas/items, but she makes up for this in her starting kit. She can equip any armour and wield any weapon.
The Knight’s perks are: Fast Attack, Defense Stance, Leg Sweep, Counter and Dash. Important to note: the ONLY perks you can choose for the Knight in the beginning are Fast Attack, Defense Stance or Dash. Leg Sweep and/or Counter can only be learned through special means in game, which I’ll explain when I go into depth about the Knight.
Fast Attack: Skill used in battle. Make enemy attacks more likely to miss and you gain an extra turn. Very good and likely a skill that would get you out of a bind if you have no choice but to fight.
Defense Stance: Skill used in battle. Prevents critical damage and greatly reduces the melee hit rate of enemies. It uses a valuable turn but the boons you receive will likely outweigh the risks of missing a damaging turn.
Leg Sweep: There is a surprising use for this skill that you probably wouldn’t expect. (I sure didn’t.) It’s a skill used in battle that targets the legs that does damage. Obvious, right? Well… if you initiate a “fight” with a wooden door (just hear me out) it will break down the door. I don’t know what else to say other than it’s super useful but could be inconvenient to come by.
Counter: This is an unusual one. It’s a skill used in battle that causes your character to “brace for oncoming damage”, or guard (the in game option of a similar functionality), only with this skill, if any damage is inflicted on the character, a portion is directed back to the enemy. Definitely has its uses, though highly situational and likely something you would use if D’arce was a party member rather than the player character.
Something that makes the Knight highly attractive is her potential starting gear. She can start with either: Iron Spear (two handed), Iron Cuirass (very good defense), and Arm Guards (protects against limb loss), or Long Sword (good attack), Eagle Crest Shield (good defense), Plate Mail (excellent defense) and Leg Guards (protects against limb loss), all of which are EXCELLENT throughout the entirety of the game!
Dark Priest (Enki Ankarian)
Third of the four listed. He’s the “mage/dark mage” class and pretty much a glass canon (a character with low health but has the potential for high damage output). Pretty tricky for first time players, as you need a pretty decent understanding of how magic works in the game as well as how to LEARN new spells.
The Dark Priest’s perks are: Counter Magic, Greater Blood Magic, Blood Sacrifice Pray, Necromancy, Mastery Over Insects, Pyromancy Trick, and Dash.
It’s important to remember that perks are determined by the character’s backstory, though all can be learned later. The Dark Priest is especially tricky, as all of his skills rely on the Gods, which I will get into at a later time.
Counter Magic: A skill that can be used both inside and out of combat. It improves resistances to different magic forms or even cancels some types out completely.
Greater Blood Magic: Increases the potential of all spells. It requires a greater in depth look, but think of every spell you learn getting an upgrade.
Blood Sacrifice: Remember when I said human sacrifice is okay? Yeah, there
you go. Kill some unwitting bastard in a special place for a pat on the back by a specific God.
Pray: This is something ALL characters can do immediately in game. It is done in specific places and increases affinity with a chosen God.
Necromancy: Used to raise the dead. But only specific kinds of dead things. Cross your fingers and pray to Gro-Goroth.
Mastery Over Insects: A passive ability that has a surprising amount of uses. You can talk to bugs. Yay! They give you hints and you can talk your way out of a few different scenarios…
Pyromancy Trick: Used in combat. Set someone on fire. Do it. You know you want to.
Dark Priest has a lot of great potential, but he is weak physically. He has a low health pool and is unable to wield heavy armours or weapons. Again makes up for this with his magic abilities right at the beginning, but he’s tricky to plan out. Not great for beginners.
Outlander (Ragnvaldr)
Fourth of the four playable characters. He’s a sort of “ranger/tank” class. The Outlander has an interesting set of perks and possible starting equipment, making him close to the Knight in his usefulness.
His perks are: Devour, Bloodlust, Marksmanship, and Warcry.
Devour: Pretty much what you think. You can eat dead enemies. Well… some of them. Sometimes it’s not always a good idea…
Bloodlust: Used in combat. Your attack is increased but you no longer control when or how you attack. More useful if you have party members.
Marksmanship: Passive that gives you the ability to shoot targets OUTSIDE of combat! Extremely useful, as it can save you a lot of heartache and stress if you’re unable to sneak around an enemy. Requires bow and arrows (duh). Activate on overworld with SHIFT.
Warcry: Used in combat. It directs all enemy attention onto you, giving your other party members a break and a chance to deal good damage. Dangerous to have all that attention on one character but has great use if your build supports this skill.
For his Marksmanship perk alone, the Outlander could be a good choice for a beginner. Some of his other perks require some set up and likely other party members, but it’s likely you would find at least one or two along the way in your trek through the dungeon of Fear & Hunger.
It’s difficult to say which of the four would be the BEST for someone ill acquainted with the game, but my personal choice is the Mercenary. His perks are some of the best in the entire game and can make the experience much less painless given your expanded ability to access different items and areas. The Knight and Outlander are tied, depending on what kind of play style you prefer. The Dark Priest, though, is the hardest one to play for, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s mostly up to personal preference, though, as either way you’re probably gonna get fucked in the ass. (Metaphorically and literally speaking.)
Basic Hazards/Mechanics
There’s a lot of different moving parts in this game, but here’s a few basic ones you’ll be contending with throughout the entirety of the game:
Sanity
You’ll be immediately notified of this upon first entering the dungeon. Steadily over time, the player character and all party members will have their Mind drain when either in the dark or seeing things that are upsetting to them. Mind is what is used when either practicing magic or using character perks. There are different stages of fear, usually announced with some flavour text at the bottom of the screen describing what your character is feeling at the moment. The higher their fear, the less their attack rating will be and the more damage they will receive. It will also be clear on the Status Screen when the menu is brought up. If it gets low enough, it’s Game Over. The best way to restore it is through the use of Spirits, though you can also use a Pipe to smoke various… things. You can also restore it through less than conventional means, but a girl will never kiss and tell. And if your Sanity gets low enough… you can access a special “skill”, which could come in handy in some very, very special circumstances…
Hunger
This is the second thing you will be notified of when entering the dungeon for the first time. Like Sanity, it drains over time. Hunger has different stages, announced with some flavour text at the bottom of the screen, and will affect a character’s base health until treated. At the highest levels of Hunger, a character will be unable to walk and thus can only crawl. Feeding them will rectify this but the effects will linger for several minutes. When Hunger reaches zero, it’s Game Over. There are a variety of food things in game that can solve this status and even a perk dedicated to providing you with an easy food source… if you have the stomach for it.
Enemies
There are a lot of enemies in the game. A lot… All of them can and WILL kill you in a manner of terrible ways, so be wary when thinking of initiating combat. Running away is always an option… though not always do you succeed. Most enemies don’t have to be engaged at all to make progress, so keep this in mind as you go deeper into the dungeon. A lot of the enemies are of an… upsetting nature as well, so be aware of that. You will see dick, tiddies and vagine, so yeah-
Traps
They are everywhere and nowhere where you expect to see them. You can:
Fall through the floor
Step on a pressure plate (and take an arrow to the knee)
Get sniped from a distance
And one of my favorites (/sss) stepping on a fucking rusty NAIL-
Watch where you are going for the sake of your tootsies. You can get some nasty status effects that will kill you if you don’t deal with them over a certain amount of time.
Status Effects
There are many status effects in this game, many that are situational and rare and some that are fairly common. A few that you will encounter often are:
Bleed: Some weapons/attacks leave it behind. Can be healed with a Cloth Fragment.
Infection: A game ending effect that is all too common. Caused by certain enemy attacks or by the dreaded rusty nail. Can be healed by using a Green Herb.
Parasitic Worms: Yeah, that’s disgusting. Can be caused by some enemies or by eating Rotten Meat. Cured by drinking Worm Juice. (Sounds absolutely terrible but it is a cure not a cause.)
Poison: Some enemies can cause it or can be contracted by eating something you had no business putting into your mouth. Cured by using a White Vial or a Mix of Green and Red Herbs.
And this is only a few of the common ones. There are many more and some that are… just awful if I’m honest. They will be discussed more later.
What are you even doing in the dungeon of Fear & Hunger?
Every character has different reasons as to why they began their journey to the greatest shithole of Rondon, but they are all united under one, singular, unifying factor: Le’garde. He’s at the center of each character’s goal and it’s clear he’s meant for a greater purpose. What that purpose is, however, would be revealed as you uncover the secrets of Fear & Hunger.
There are several different endings to the game, from one you can get right at the start of the game to ones that require a lot of planning and specific in game sequences to ones only accessible through specific difficulty modes. Most don’t end as you would expect them too and pretty much all of them end in some amount of tragedy or long standing dread. There aren’t many happy endings to be had here…
Depending on your knowledge of the game, it can take you hours to figure out what you’re doing or where you're going… Or it can take minutes if you are in the know. It also depends on if you are in the RNG (random number generator) gods’ good graces that day or not, because a BIG part of this game is… a coin toss! We’ll get into that more later, but know that one bad roll can doom your run, which is… fun. (/s)
I recommend going into this game completely blind and see what you can figure out on your own. There’s a lot of little details hidden around that can help you on your journey and it makes the experience very enjoyable (in a sort of twisted, morbid curiosity and masochistic way) and it’s how the game is meant to be experienced at least on a first time basis.
Death is common and you will die. A lot. There’s no shortage of ways you can die, many containing neat little animations (or traumatizing, depending on your definition) that are unique to various different coin toss “failures”. And sometimes, if you’re lucky (or not, again depending on your definition), a certain “Game Over” would simply be a change of scenery… and other things, but that’s only some of the time…
Wrap Up
There is so much to cover in this game that it would take many different sections to do so. Different skills, different Gods to worship, different NPCs to interact with and different equipment options plus many, many different secrets you likely wouldn’t know unless you’ve been around in the fandom for some time… It’s got a great world that has been built upon a strong foundation and there is a metric fuck load of lore if you’re willing to slow down and enjoy the environment around you. If it’s not something you’d play, I highly recommend looking into it regardless.
There is also a second game that further builds on the in game universe and I am thoroughly impressed with it. Both games are something I recommend lovingly with full knowledge that this game will cause pain and suffering to those that would dare to play it. I would like to go even further into detail about both these games because there is just so much to talk about and gush over and to bitch about.
I really hope that this little rant piqued some interest in the games. Truly, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever played before and I can’t state enough how hard I fell in love with them.
@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather
#fear & hunger#fear and hunger#I really like this game okay?#I have a problem lol#getting into the nitty gritty of it all#there's lots of interesting and messed up things about this game
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OC lore drop
An overview of my OCs and the settings they belong to! The settings range from “fully-outlined/partially drafted novels that i genuinely intend to write one day” to “loose string of scenarios to put my guys in.”
Casey and Vincent
(she/her, he/him)
Premise: Casey lives in the middle of nowhere Texas with an elderly woman (Margie) for whom she’s a live-in caretaker. Vincent shows up on her doorstep with a shovel in hand, asking if he can dig up something of his that’s buried on Margie’s land. Casey tells him no, and don’t come back. A few days later, while visiting a neighbor, Casey is attacked by monsters. They tear the neighbor to shreds and almost get Casey, but Vincent comes out of nowhere and distracts them while she runs for home. When she gets there, she realizes that the monsters can’t seem to cross the property line. Vincent gets badly injured, but Casey drags him to safety.
They are then stuck indefinitely on this square acre of land, unable to leave lest they get torn to shreds by the many-toothed creatures prowling the invisible barrier. Casey nurses Vincent back to health and in doing so realizes that he is definitely something Other Than Human. She also learns that he’s really weird, but really sweet, but mostly really weird. He starts to dig up the land but still won’t tell her what he’s looking for.
genre is romance and soft horror, very similar vibes to my tma fic "resigned" if you’ve read that. Vincent and Casey’s dynamic is p much "it's not body horror, not to me, not if it's you."
Max and Braiden
(both he/him)
These two are from a story that was basically my highschool big brain take on "what if superpowers happened in the real world but people who had them got EXPERIMENTED ON??" That’s still the setting but the plot has taken a sharp turn into classic American road trip. Max has the power to generate, manipulate, and breathe various gasses, and Braiden can make copies of himself.
The basic premise is that, while escaping the facility where he’s been trapped for a number of years, Braiden meets Max for the first time. Max already knows him, however, and is in fact madly in love with him. It turns out that Max was in a relationship with one of Braiden’s copies who was recently killed, and meeting the Original(™) Braiden is the first time he finds out that there’s more than one of him. Cue lots of questions about nature/nurture, what makes a person inherently themself, and Star Trek style philosophical ponderings on the personhood of clones. All of this happens in a ragtop convertible against a backdrop of late summer highway.
(if braiden reminds you of my martin design, no he doesn’t <3 (actually he does because he is a character i put a lot of my own struggles with depression into, and his personality is adjacent to martin’s s5 I’m A Huge Bitch Because I Have Boundaries Now vibe, so martin ended up reminding me of him and i committed IP theft on myself about it))
Fantasy / DnD OCs
I’m bad at fantasy worldbuilding so i just kinda toss all of these guys into scenarios in my head and mix them like salad. I’m trying to put together something with a cowboy/western kind of energy but i haven’t gotten far <3
I have a group of OCs from a scrapped fantasy setting who I’ll add to this when I have more recent sketches for all of them. (If you’re wondering where the lesbians are. They are here. I’m sorry I don’t have more drawings of you on hand, lesbians)
More dnd OCs can be found just in my dnd tag but here are the honorable mentions:
August
(he/him)
Half-elf bard. He has been the icon on my personal blog for years and, in retrospect, playing him was absolutely my first step towards questioning my gender. He has 18 intelligence and 10 wisdom. He once hooked up with an NPC and scored a 24 on his performance check. He even has a meme. Party on, king
Aurelian
(he/him)
(2nd image is before i gave him horns. ft. fiancé Pesh, they/them)
Aurelian is a pirate. He’s an outlaw. He’s a horse girl. He’s been looking for his mysteriously vanished fiancé long enough that he has trouble picturing their face. He exists because I heard Chasing Twisters by Delta Rae and had to make a dnd character about it.
Vasha
(she/her)
Angsty wild magic sorcerer who started as a hostile NPC when i DMed for some friends. Took on a life of her own and ended up in lesbians with the party’s orc fighter. Since that campaign ended I am trying to find her a gf like Mrs. Bennet matchmaking for her five daughters
#OCs#i’ll establish names for these groups later I guess#for now uhhhh. here they are. some of my special guys#the fantasy squad is very dear to my heart but they need some sprucing up before I show them off lmao
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thank you for the tag @thegreatwicked! This is my main — @thenightmarketofdathomir is my sideblog (and I usually do these tag games over here.)
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Twenty one. Have deleted as many in as many years, probably.
2. What's your total A03 word count?
740,975. I had this horrified moment as I was tallying… what if my current WIP (not live) has a bigger total than everything else that’s up as of today? (It’s not. I’m not sure if I’m relieved because this thing is shaping up to be a trilogy.)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Stah Wahs
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Kudos in ratio to chapter, orrrr just the volume? Some of them are shit and I pretend they don’t exist anymore so I’m not going to list them. They’re like bad dreams. That shit never happened I don’t care if it took 38 chapters. And I’m not counting the Nightmarket because it’s a hundred and eighty one-shots lumped together.
Somebody's gonna have a bad time by nxctuary (Opress Bros x Reader)
Drown Me in You by nxctuary (Mermaid!Maul x Reader)
The myriad applications and multiple uses for a Corellian HWY-280 class fresher. Article 342: One locking door. by nxctuary (Feral x Reader)
The Collector by nxctuary (Maul x Reader)
The Ritual by nxctuary (Maul x Reader)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Depends on a couple of things that aren’t always consistent, and often if I don’t reply it’s because the comment broke me. (I often will reply, but I’m like a cryptid — expect me to pop-up without warning six months after you’ve left a note.) It’s often someone saying something nice, my inner self-hatred seeing it and going, “LIAR!” And then taking six months to convince myself that I just can’t take a compliment when negotiating my own imposter syndrome.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Ah that’s… hm. I don’t think I’ve killed anyone lately.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Everyone gets a happy ending. Even if it’s a little twisted. I like horror endings, you know? The kind that, on the surface, appear as if everything’s actually going to work out for the better but there’s a single drop of darkness left on the page that implies everything can be lost at a moment’s notice.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Narp.
9. Do you write smut?
Yarp.
10. Do you write crossovers?
Just once. Let’s not talk about it.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Better not have. I’ve had multiple pieces plagiarized partially, though. In really hilarious ways (to me, at least) because there’s nothing like borrowing a turn of phrase said to you IRL (while you were sleeping with the person who said it), giving those words to Maul as he speaks them to the Reader character, then finding someone else pulled out several lines of the same dialogue to use in their fic without permission. Maybe don’t do that. You don’t know where this stuff comes from, and you definitely don’t know what I was working through when I wrote it. Awkward.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I remember. (Maybe once in X-Men? I've had work turned into podfic, though.)
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Nope.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
Feral and Kai? Do OCs count?
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Nothing is ever finished even if it’s finished. I don’t understand the question. /j
16. What are your writing strengths?
I show up every day and I do the work. Even when it sucks and when I hate it. I do the work.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
If I don’t have a clear overview of how a scene is going to play out (or especially the layers of an argument between the characters — what they’re saying VS what they really mean, what they’re withholding, what the reader knows but they don’t, etc) I will spin my wheels and fill up a page with setting description to avoid making a bulleted list of what’s actually happening so I can get to the point. Then edit it twelve times later like hacking away at a hunk of marble trying to get to the good bits.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Doesn’t bother me. There are circumstances where the jist of the conversation carries regardless, and if not, I’m assuming the writer’s offering a translation either in-text or as a citation. I mean, if you want to get granular about it, then start asking does doing that serve the story and what does it add, or does it detract, but that’s a situational thing and I think you need to experiment a bit to learn what works in context.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Harry Potter. Draco/Harry. I was baby.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
Archangel (unreleased). Heartsong (unreleased). Crown of Motherfucking Horns (current WIP). CoH my heart. CoH beloved. CoH my baby.
Tagging (no pressure): @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @grinningnexu @sinisterexaggerator @inquisitorius-sin-bin @umber-cinders
@graaaaceeliz @not0a0mundane and anyone else who wants to play :)
#tag game#on writing#Darth Maul x Reader#Feral Opress x Reader#Savage Opress x Reader#Opress Bros x Reader#that polyfic follows me to this day istg#Maul x Reader#Maul x You#Feral Opress x You#Savage Opress x You
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