Chapter Text
Was it something I said?
Rough fingers clawed into the freshly damp dirt, traces left of it now under nails, not caring if it got messy. Scattered patches of grass tempted the fingers to hold onto the strands, almost breaking them into shreds. The few grass helms that got into reach were clamped shut in scraped hands, tugged until the root was ripped off. Hands not caring what they hold on to, as long as it's something. something to know he is really there.
His eyes slowly fluttered open, being met with the earthy ground, grass squished by his weight. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were smudged by the dirt. Just great. Before complaints could even leave his lips, a stinging pain on his forehead, then neck and lastly the uncomfortable feeling of dirt on the scrapes of his hands shifted his attention elsewhere. A shaky breath escaped his lungs as he tried to sit up, digging his already bruised fingers more into the dirt.
It took a few moments for him to even realize where he was. It was dark, but he could make out the silhouettes of trees. Right, he was in a forest in the middle of the night. The stinging pain all over his body was almost unbearable, but he had to get up.
The process of standing up was slow and painful, as his knees buckled and he almost fell over more times than he could count. He rested his hand against a nearby tree, taking a few deep breaths until he was sure that he could push away the pain for just a moment. He tried to focus on why he was here, the same with his wounds, that he grasped at and smudged his dirt-covered fingers with the blood of his wounds. Not the smartest decision, but he was out of it, nothing thinking straight.
A couple of minutes passed and he traced each bruise and cut he had on his body. The scrapes on his forehead, the blood now dry, the cuts on his cheeks that were still slightly bleeding, painting his neck with more blood on the sides. His fingers traced the blood from his cheeks down to his neck, where he touched the cut right across it. It felt odd. It hurt, but it didn't bleed which struck him as unusual. Each touch left him wincing, but he wanted to know for sure where his wounds were.
His arms and legs felt sore, but he couldn't feel any bruising or direct pain. The forest was dark which made inspecting everything much harder, so he relies on the touch of his fingertips again.
His hands felt rough and he squinted his eyes to make out the features of his hands. They felt like the skin between each finger was cut, which made every movement painful. He could feel the texture of dirt on his hands, not just on his skin, but everywhere. With filth under his nails, he felt like a dog that dug a hole with its claws.
After he was done inspecting his body with the touch of his fingers, he felt a bit more relieved. He needs to keep his cool, he needs to stay level-headed, he can't freak out. He closed his eyes for a short moment, pressing his forehead against the arm that was resting against the rough bark of the tree. Despite having calmed down, he couldn't think, every thought seemed to just disappear just as soon as it came. Not only did the wounds sting, but his head was buzzing. He needed some water, but there was nothing, he was completely empty-handed, not even his wallet was with him. Moron.
He pushed himself away from the tree and began to stumble through the forest. The only sound was the crunching of leaves underneath his feet or the occasional twig that snapped when he stepped on one.
His body ached, but he couldn't just lay down and sleep, he was too aware and scared to stay put. He knew something happened. How could these wounds happen? He wasn't sure and part of him dreaded knowing what really happened. He ran his dirt-stained hand through his hair which was an anxious habit he had ever since he was little. Not caring much if his hair got dirty, he bet he looked awful anyways, so who cares?
He would have resorted to finger biting, something he told Mark to knock off, but the smell and taste deterred him from doing so. He chewed on his bottom lip instead, pulling at the loose and dry skin of his lips.
Mark. Mark. The name rang through his head, not being able to pinpoint who that person was.
Was it something I did?
Sounds familiar enough. His head buzzed even more when he tried to think more thoroughly about the significance of that person, so he just brushed it off. Need to get out of this forest first. His trek in the forest continued, his limbs sore and aching from all the bruises, but he can't stop now.
He walked for minutes, maybe even hours, it all felt the same. Occasional roots from trees protruding from the ground made him trip and almost lose his footing, but he stayed focused and determined. The urgency to seek help in his mind was still strong even after the pain of his wounds slowly started to fade into a tolerable discomfort. Get used to it. If the wounds don't hurt anymore, it's not that bad, right?
The longer he travelled through the forest the more numb he felt, he felt hopeless at the loss of feeling anything at all. He would rather feel pain than nothing at all.
He couldn't even make out anything that could hint at an exit of the forest. Too dark. The trees that were standing next to each other too narrowly, made him feel trapped by all of it. Suffocating, and it seemed the deeper he went into the forest, not that he wanted to, the more unnerving the forest became. Owls stopped howling a long time ago and he swore he could hear twigs in his surrounding area snapping into two. All in your head.
He rubbed his forehead as a weak attempt at reassuring himself, but it didn't work, his hands twitching. The noises, as if someone is near, cause him to relive that childhood fear of quickly running through the dark hallway back into his room, after going to the bathroom at night. Someone or even something was here.
Every little time he heard a noise he instantly snapped his head to that direction, sometimes even turning around too quickly and slipping on the wet leaves on the ground. Nothing. Again.
This forest felt endless as if directly designed for him to be tormented for whatever reason he did not know. At some point he stopped reacting to the noises around him. They were playing with his mind and it was nothing like the last ten or so times.
He stopped at his trek when he heard the snap of twigs right in front of him, forcing him to look ahead where he was going. His eyes widened as he saw someone. Roughly put on tuxedo, lazily tied bowtie around the shirt's collar, casual stance.
He blinked twice as he tried to focus on the person's features, but he couldn't, he just couldn't. He looked up to look into the person's eyes, but he was met with… something familiar. Too familiar.
He wanted to scream in confusion and panic, get away, but he was frozen in place, staring at an almost perfect reflection of himself. This is a dream, this can't be right . The person glanced right back and the longer he looked at them he could see the imperfections. The left side of their face was completely normal, it looked like a perfect replica of his own face when he last looked into the mirror. As he trailed his gaze across the face of his 'doppelgänger' he noticed how horrible their smile was. This person - No, this thing was not human.
Its human part perfected his smile, showing his dimples and teeth, while the other side, the right side, was almost completely obscured by the shadows. Not from the night, no, by something else, this didn't look normal.The smile contorted to the side of its cheek, showing off its long, unnatural and sharp teeth. Yeah, this thing was definitely not human.
Your eyes, they stare right through
Despite his panic he shifted his gaze to look up at the creature and make eye contact, its uneven and mismatched eyes staring down at him. White holes just staring right back at his own brown ones.
This is not Cesar Torres. He is Cesar Torres, not whatever excuse of a creature that is.
It moved a little bit closer, tilting its head to the side as it eyed him up and down, tapping one of its now revealed long, unnaturally long, fingers against its chin. It looked amused and basked in the fear that Cesar felt as the two kept eye contact with each other.
"You don't remember, do you?”
Cesar snapped back to reality as he heard the creature speak. However it didn't move its mouth. The voice rang through his head, confusing him even further. Its voice sounded so like his - but also so not like him. Cesars eyebrows knitted together and he took a small step back as it came closer, careful not to trip on any roots or rocks.
It didn't continue 'speaking' and just stared at him with its unnaturally wide smile, as if it enjoyed each moment of Cesars confusion. This silence continued until he finally mustered the courage to speak, trying to sound stern and serious, but it came out shaky and weak, his voice brittle.
"What do you mean?"
The creature's eyebrows raised slightly as it came closer, still smiling. The closer it got the more Cesar noticed how unnatural its stance was, slightly taller, its fingers long, almost like claws, its lips curling into a smile that went all the way up to its cheeks.
" Don't you remember his cries?"
Cesar backed off even more, wanting to get away from it. He quickly shook his head "I have no clue what you are talking about," Cesar replied quickly, his lips forming into a frown as he was genuinely irritated by the creature’s voice that buzzed through his head. It sounded like it was coming from inside of his head, which made the experience so much more eerie.
It looked almost disappointed, but it shrugged its shoulders, still walking closer to Cesar. "Get the fuck away from me!" He tried to put more distance between them, but as he took a step back too far he slipped on the wet ground of the forest. With a small yelp he fell to the ground, his back now aching from the forest floor, staining his clothes even more with dirt.
He pushed himself away from the creature that was walking closer to him, its long limbs growing, making Cesar's stomach drop. He dug his feet in the ground to further push himself off it, as he was hurting too much to stand up. Hands eagerly pushed himself away, his adrenaline pushing away any pain he felt. Survive.
Feeling so helpless as he attempted to get away from the flawed mimic of himself, doing so pathetically. With sharp teeth it stared down at him, devouring each ounce of fear that radiated from Cesar. So lovely.
He was never much of a crier, but he did cry right there, his chest feeling tight and he couldn't even understand what this is, what he is feeling. Dread. He was going to die by the hands of the creature and he can't fight back as his mind is set on flight. His fingers dug deeper into the dirt of the forest, staring right up at the creature that was looming over him.
' Cause I just terrify you
Due to Cesars tears he couldn’t even make out the warped features of the monster, but he could feel its breath against his skin. He could only describe the smell as that of smoke. Ashy, disgusting and leaving a foul taste in his mouth. He felt like he was back in the past when Mark had let out a puff of smoke right in his face and Mark laughed his ass off as Cesars face changed to that of disgust. He wasn’t even sure how they got the cigarettes - probably Mark’s father, but they wanted to try them out. It wasn’t for them, thankfully.
Mark.. that name again.
As Cesar’s attention shifted back to the creature he could see a wide toothy grin stretched across its face, causing a shiver to run down his back by simply looking at it. He quickly closed his eyes, furrowing his brows. He proceeded to shake his head and pleas of “no, please, no” escaped his lips.
“He was your best friend…”
Cesars mind started to grow even more fuzzy, the stinging pain in his head becoming unbearable, not even noticing hands place themselves on his shoulders. He was trembling in the creature’s hands, too afraid to open his eyes again, tears still running down his face. He shook his head, reaching up to grab the hands of the creature, but he felt nothing. He dug his fingers into his own shoulders and ripped his eyes open to look in front of him.
Nothing.
What is this world coming to?
Staring into nothingness, Cesar slowly managed to calm down his breathing. His eyes were still filled with tears and he eagerly rubbed them away, careful not to rub dirt into his eyes. As he finished he looked around to search for any traces of the creature. Just nothing. He sighed heavily and leaned backwards, hitting a nearby tree, giving him some stability. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to focus on his current situation.
He was your best friend… Mark… him..
Cesars stomach dropped as realization hit him. How could he forget Mark, his best friend. He shook his head not believing himself. His brain slowly started to become clearer, the uncomfortable ringing through his head disappearing. Cesar felt so incredibly stupid for forgetting such a big part of his life - his friend that has been there with him through thick and thin. Just brushing off the memories that went through his head made him feel sick. He was sick.
After a few quiet minutes of just leaning against the bark of the tree, Cesar calmed himself down, still running a dirt-covered hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the strands. Not dreaming right now. He felt everything, even a little too much. He felt sensitive, every touch too firm, too real.
As Cesar pulled up his legs to his chest to hug them, he rested his head right on top of his knees. Mark. His cries? His face filled with confusion. What did the monster mean by that? His cries.. He remembered when Mark almost broke his arm when falling off a tree and he did cry. Cesar did too, he was so scared for Mark that he panicked so they both sat there sobbing while Cesar held Mark. He smiled at the memory, but this incident couldn’t be the one the creature referenced.
He couldn’t think of anything else. Sure, Mark cried sometimes, but Cesar didn’t really mind. He was the only one Mark allowed himself to open up, so he was genuinely puzzled by what the monster wanted. Fuck that monster, it was just trying to mess with his head. He won’t listen to someone - no, something that took the shape of his own face.
He had gathered his strength after a while, lifting himself up from the ground and continuing to make his trek through the forest. Still night, but the moon hung high. This gave Cesar some sort of light, helping him navigate through the forest.
What felt like agonizing hours, he finally managed to arrive at the woodland edge that had a trail surrounding the massive forest. As he stepped on the trail, the even, well walked on floor felt so good underneath his feet, compared to the rough and slippery floor of the woods. Sighing in relief he stretched his legs, before walking along the trail that led away from the forest.
Cesar didn’t want to look at the forest, the thin and tall trees making him feel uneasy. The same with the lack of sounds in there. The soothing sounds of crickets in the field calmed him down, as soon as he was out of the woods. Not alone or at least surrounded by animals- actual animals, not that creature. However, curiosity got the better of him and he looked back into the dark forest, a feeling of dread appearing in his stomach in almost an instant. Cesar snapped his head back quickly, marching faster down the path, not even wanting to know if that thing was still there.
He shook his head and sighed heavily, kicking a few stones that laid in his path. After around ten minutes of walking he arrived by a road, giving him some sort of hope. Hitchhiking.. fun. He walked by the side of the narrow road, barely stepping his foot on the asphalt and just clumsily walking on the earthy ground next to it. Cesar doesn’t want to get hit by a car that wasn’t paying attention, especially in the middle of the night.
I hope Mark is fine - hopefully that thing didn’t hurt him.. I mean, it knew about him? Cesar’s facial expression formed in a worried frown, his eyebrows knitted together, but it quickly faded. Mark has a gun, one that would scare anyone away and Mark was good at shooting. He can protect himself. Yeah, Mark is safe. Cesar closed his eyes for a moment as he walked, before opening them again after he cleared his head a little.
He flinched slightly when he heard the distant sounds of a car engine. Thank god, I have been walking for ages. He held up his thumb as he stared at the car that was coming his way. What he didn’t expect was the car to speed up and drive right into a muddy puddle, splashing Cesar with a large amount of mud. He stopped walking, too stunned to even say anything. What the fuck.
Cesar looked down at his white- well, used to be white shirt. Sure, it was dirty already, but now he felt like a pig that bathed in mud. Good for them, but it’s not for me. Grimacing, he tried to wipe off most of the sludge, but only made it worse. Giving up Cesar sighed heavily, not even able to touch his face without making it even more dirty.
After a while of collecting himself he continued to walk, mumbling little curses under his breath, seemingly still upset by having been splashed by the mud puddle. His hands were already covered in so much filth, his fingernails dirty from having dug into the forest ground when first waking up and trying to get away from it. He needed a shower, but he doubts he will get one soon.
The road was completely empty and the silence scared him. There were some crickets, which eased his mind, but he had this uneasy feeling of being watched. He was far away from the forest, but he still didn’t feel safe. Looking over his shoulder became a must, but he didn’t hear anything. You’re just paranoid.
Yeah, just paranoid.
Cesar feels tired, sighing deeply as he couldn’t even rub his eyes without smudging dirt in them. He came to a halt when he heard engines behind him. His eyes quickly scanned the street and ground for any puddles, panicking that he would be splashed again, but there were none. Phew. Cesar looked to the car that came closer and just like the first time he held up his thumb, signaling the car to slow down.
His eyes squinted slightly as he stared at the bright shine from the front lights of the car that lit up the street. Cesar rested his arm slightly above his eyes to block the almost blinding light. As the car slowed down, he sighed in relief and he slowly adjusted to the light and walked over to the car. He spotted the roof lights on top of the car as he got closer, as well as the print on the side of the car saying something along the lines of ‘Mandela County Police Department’.
The cruiser parked by the side of the road, while Cesar watched, having stopped in his tracks again. The police officer quickly got out of the car, holding a flashlight and walking over to Cesar, the front lights of the car still on.
“Identify yourself,” the tone of the officer was harsh as he got closer and shone the light into Cesar’s face, causing him to instantly squint his eyes again from the direct light in his eyes. The officer had his grip on his holster, ready to shoot if Cesar tried anything funny and it definitely made Cesar’s stomach turn.
“Cesar. Cesar Torres,” he replied, covering his eyes slightly as the light of the flashlight hit his eyes. He looked up at the man, now being able to see him more clearly as he was standing right in front of the car. Blond hair that was tied into a bun with dark roots. Ah, bleached hair. Cool. Unusual for a cop, but oh well. The officer looked tired, eye bags and small wrinkles forming in his face. Neatly kept beard, surprisingly .
As the policeman looked at Cesar with more attention, his eyes immediately widened, especially after hearing the name.
“Holy shit,” was the only thing he mouthed as he stepped closer, examining Cesar better, no longer directly shining the flashlight right in his face. The man looked absolutely stunned, not even able to form proper sentences. Cesar looked down at the nameplate that had the words “Lt. Thatcher Davis” engraved on it, but it seemed quite old and used.
Lt. Davis backed off a little, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he stared at Cesar in disbelief. After an awkward amount of silence as.. Well Cesar didn’t really want to talk as he was confused by all of this, especially why the police officer or lieutenant was acting so strange. The other finally broke the silence, walking over to the cruiser.
“Get in, I am driving you to the ER, kid,” his tone was a little softer, but Cesar could tell he was on edge. Cesar only nodded slowly and opened the door of the passenger seat and sat in the police cruiser, instantly being hit with a scent of smoke. Jesus fucking christ. He fought against the urge to cough as he buckled up his seatbelt
Lt. Davis quickly entered the vehicle, putting on his seatbelt as well, starting the engine and driving a little bit too fast for Cesar’s liking. Sure, let me survive some weird monster encounter and then die in a car crash haha. Funny. Cesar didn’t really pay attention to the man next to him and rolled down the window, letting the fresh air fill the car, washing away the stinging scent of smoke.
Some soft rock music played through the radio and Cesar found himself idly bopping his head slightly, tilting his head to look out of the window. It was still pitch black out and he has been out for a long time.
“What time is it?” Cesar asked, shifting his gaze to the lieutenant, who was gripping the steering wheel of the car with some tension. Thatcher gave him a side eye, before looking down at his watch on his left wrist. “3:50 AM”
Cesar nodded and busied himself again by looking out of the window. He didn’t really care if he got the car dirty and he was practically covered in so much mud, dirt or whatever else. He doesn’t want to know. I bet that stuff will never get out, better throw it out when I get home. When the smoke slowly started to fade from the car, Cesar rolled up the window, getting more comfortable in his seat. It was very comfortable and he almost felt bad for making it dirty. Almost.
As they drove, Cesar noticed that Thatcher slowly started to relax, seeing him drumming his fingers against the wheel softly to the music. However, he was still constantly checking either the rear view mirror or the side mirror of the car. Yeah, with that thing out there I would be paranoid too. Which Cesar was to some degree, but he brushed it off as him having a concussion. Hopefully, maybe. It’s not here, so I was imagining things.
Cesar didn’t necessarily mind the silence as he was used to Mark being really quiet. After encountering that thing though, he hated silence. The music from the radio calmed his nerves, as he wasn’t in the mood of talking and neither did the police officer next to him.
Closing his eyes for a while, he leaned his head against the window, his arms folded, getting comfortable. Not tired, just exhausted. Okay, maybe a little tired.
He didn’t know how long they had been driving, twenty minutes maybe? Cesar opened his eyes when they came to a halt, after slowly driving for a while. His eyes adjusted to the bright red light of the emergency sign of the hospital, as they parked right near it.
“Alright, we are here,” Thatcher said, as he put the car in park and got out of the vehicle. Cesar stretched his arms slightly, cracking his knuckles, before getting out himself. He was a bit wobbly as he got out, but he caught himself, resting a firm hand on the police cruiser to stabilize himself. His body ached, but the cuts and bruises didn’t sting anymore, which concerned him, as that is not normal. Like no way he could heal that fast.
The lieutenant came over to him and gently placed a supporting hand on Cesar’s shoulder, both of them going into the ER. He didn’t like to be touched, but he also didn’t want to stumble and fall over and embarrass himself as he walked into the hospital. Walking over to the reception, Thatcher did all the talking and he was grateful for that. Cesar didn’t want to look around as the light was too bright for him, so he looked down at his feet. His worn shoes were covered in mud, his pants as well and he doesn’t even want to talk about his used to be white and shiny dress shirt.
There were some other people in the waiting room, but they didn’t look as bad as Cesar given by their facial expression as Thatcher and him walked in. They looked shocked, maybe even somewhat disgusted and he couldn’t blame them. He probably looked and smelt awful as he was covered in mud, dirt or whatever laid on the forest floor.
After a while of waiting and some stares of people, Cesar was finally brought to an examination room. The nurse was really nice to him, looking at his different wounds and cleaning them thoroughly, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder when he winced from the stinging pain of disinfectant touching cuts. After cleaning the wounds that could be seen at first glance, the nurse unbuttoned his shirt, revealing several scars that Cesar didn’t remember.
Lt. Davis was right outside the examination room on his phone, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. Some police stuff probably. He focused back on the nurse who was looking over his wounds with a concerned look.
“Have you been shot before?” the nurse asked, her voice soft, a hint of worry in her tone, as she looked at the scarred spots on his chest and stomach.
“No, not that I could remember,” Cesar replied, his heartbeat quickening and he felt tight around his chest. He would know if he ever got shot, but a familiar buzz in his head returned when he tried to think of it. Was it nearby?
“Ah, alright then…” the nurse said with a surprised expression, but it quickly faded and was replaced with a soft and reassuring look. Cesar stared at her and he managed to calm down, but he was still freaking out at the growing pain in his head, thinking about a time where he might’ve gotten shot. Stupid.
The nurse finished up cleaning Cesar’s wounds and wrapping them with bandages. He hated the sensation of the fabric on his skin, but it was better than getting an infection. Whatever.
Thatcher was long done with the phone call and came in with two paper cups and sat down next to the chair next to the hospital bed, right after the nurse left.
“So, how are you feeling?”
Cesar stared at him, glancing at the two cups the man was holding, watching him carefully as he placed one of them on the table right next to the bed. He could smell the sweet scent of cocoa.
“Not good, but also not that bad, I guess,” Cesar replied as he took the cup of hot chocolate, wondering how Davis knew that it was his preferred drink over coffee. He hated the strong smell of coffee and the effect it had on him, not really liking when his heart raced. He took a sip and it tasted better than he expected. It couldn’t be compared to the way Mark and him made them in the winter, plopping some marshmallows and a generous amount of sweetened whipped cream on top. They’re hospital drinks, how good could they be?
Thatcher nodded at the reply of Cesar, crossing one leg over the other as he took a sip of his own drink, what he assumed was coffee. With how prominent the eye bags under the lieutenant’s eyes were, he was living off that stuff.
The warm taste of the chocolate made Cesar feel comfortable in the bed, placing the cup away when he was done. He washed down the aftertaste of the chocolate with a bottle of water that the nurse had given him.
“Do you need anything, kid?” Thatcher asked as he stood up, stacking both of their empty paper cups and throwing them in the nearby trash can.
“Well, I think my mom is worried sick for me. Maybe you could give her a call?” Cesar asked, frowning at the thought of seeing his mom worried sick for him. I mean, which parent wouldn’t worry if their child didn’t come home? If they are dead . Cesar felt a slight sting in his head and knitted his eyebrows together, trying to brush away that stupid thought.
Thatcher nodded, however he was tense as soon as Cesar mentioned his mom. He knows something you don’t. “Yeah, will do, bud. Make a strong recovery, alright?” Davis said, giving Cesar a small smile before waving and leaving Cesar alone in the room.
He could hear the officer’s steps echo in the hall and he sighed, pulling the thin blanket over himself. Should probably get some sleep. He couldn’t lay on his side, which made trying to fall asleep very uncomfortable. Cesar stared at the ceiling, resting both of his hands on his chest, tracing the lines of the different panels with his eyes. Counting sheep but worse. He thought to himself as he counted the different tiles on the ceiling, after he got bored of following the lines.
He decided to just lay on his side even if it hurt, but it was much more comfortable. Worth it. Cesar managed to fall asleep in minutes, after he got used to the pain. This will be fine.