Chapter Text
I’m sitting on the couch, legs crossed, reading a book. A fantasy. The brave warrior is fighting against the magical forest beasts, swinging his sword. They succumb easily, their bodies turning to dust.
Distantly, I hear a screech.
It almost blends in, fitting with the scene in my head–the evil wolves crying as they’re slain. But no. It sounds high-pitched, even shrill, like a small child. It’s piercing.
I stand, the novel falling from my hands and hitting the carpeted ground. Without much thought, I run towards the source, stumbling down the hall and towards the back. As I reach out for the doorknob, the noise suddenly cuts off with a series of cracks. The silence is somehow even more distressing.
I throw the door open and am greeted with warmth and sunlight unsuited to the situation. My eyes scan around, latching on a patch of red stains in the grass. A little brown rabbit.
Henry sits above it, legs crossed, chin resting apathetically on the palm of his hand. There’s a slight smile on his face, his other hand pulling back to rest on his knee. He glances towards me.
“Hello,” he states blandly.
“I-I… The rabbit…” I murmur, stepping closer.
“Hm? Oh, yes.”
“...I heard it scream.”
“They do that.”
I swallow, not wanting to look but unable to turn away. “B-but… why did you… why would you…”
“It’s the natural order. We are predators, they are prey. It sends a message,” he says simply, then, when noting my bewildered expression, adds, “It was messing up the lawn.”
I nod slowly, something acidic building in my throat. “Y-you… but why not just shoo it away?”
He sighs, pushing himself up to his feet. “I see you’re distressed.” He rests a hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer to the animal. “It’s important that you learn this as well. Life is not sacred. It is replaced and replaced, a constant, endless cycle.”
Something scurries past and his head snaps to the side, his hand shooting out to catch it. A squirrel stops mid-jump, held afloat by his abilities.
“Go on. Take it from me. I learned much from exerting my power over such animals when I was a child. If you cannot so much a kill a rodent, you will have much trouble when we are called upon to take out the bad people.”
“But those people are… they’re… they’re bad! They’re liars and bullies, people who cheat and steal and hurt! These animals are.. are innocent…”
He regards me coldly, almost clinical. “Thirteen. Take the squirrel from me,” he orders.
I shake my head, stepping back.
His hand tightens on my arm and he pulls me back. “My rules are simple. You do not question and you do as I say. This is how the household moves smoothly, this is how you don’t get hurt, and this is how we fix the world. Now, you will do as I say.”
I hesitantly reach my hand out, my abilities stretching out the hold the squirrel in place. Henry drops his hand and his own grasp on the creature.
“Good. Bring it closer.”
I curl my fingers in, dragging it over until it’s in front of us. I can feel it squirming, hear the sounds of confusion and discomfort. It hurts.
“Finally. Now break its neck.”
I shake my head.
“Thirteen… Come on. Can you feel it’s pulse? Feel the bones beneath your fingers? I know you can.” He leans closer, his voice low against the side of my neck. “You’ve killed before. You killed 004, you killed 011. Just do it.”
“...i-it didn’t do anything.”
“Besides the point,” he snaps, the tips of his fingers digging into the flesh of my arm. Then he scoffs. “Fine, let’s say it did. Look at those claws. Once, the squirrel fell from a tree on top of a young child. It scratched at the girl’s face trying to escape and left her blinded. Now kill it.”
“But-”
“And then, needing food for winter, it dug into another animal stash and took what they had. The squirrel kept well fed while the other creature starved to death. Now kill it.”
My hand tenses, pressure building on it’s throat. It starts squirming more, letting out choked little squeaks.
“It isn’t innocent. It needs to die. Come on, try the technique I always do. Snap the joints, break the jaw, suck in the eyes. I know you can do it.”
My finger twitches and its bone snaps, then another. The sound vibrates through my own body, but I continue.
“Good… You’re doing so well, Thirteen.” His grip loosens, the palm of his hand stroking soothingly up and down my arm. “Go on.”
Snap the joints, break the jaw, suck in the eyes. I follow each order, then let the body drop, hitting the ground with a wet thud. I lean against Henry’s side, my legs shaky underneath me. Something in my chest feels numb.
I lean to the side and throw up.
* * *
Henry looks different.
It shouldn't be as surprising as it is. A few months have passed. It’s to be expected, right?
Some differences are obvious. He’s thinner, clothes torn, lips peeled, hair messy, skin pale and stained with dirt. His voice sounds rough and dry. What you’d expect from someone living in a wasteland. Vines wrap around his legs and torso, stretching down his arms, as if holding him together, as if he’ll break at the seams if they left. It makes him look like a part of the Upside Down, fully merged with the ecosystem.
There’s the less obvious changes too. His veins are more visible, threads of blue peeking through his skin. His eyes look duller, darker, but not the black of the shadow monster, it’s more as if his true colour has been corrupted. Even the way he carries himself is more hunched.
He steps closer, leaning in curiously, as if not quite believing his eyes. I stand still, frozen under his gaze. He’s here. He’s alive. Despite not letting myself believe otherwise, it’d settled somewhere in my gut as an inevitability. I tense with every inch of space between us that gets crossed. I can’t tell if it’s really him, if he’s really in control of his body.
He doesn’t mind, eyes dragging over my body, trying to deduce what’s happened. He’s filling in months of blanks, connecting dots. He finally reaches a hand out, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger, brushing through the strands until his hand settles on the back of my neck. His thumb presses into the skin, feeling my heartbeat.
It takes him a long time, inspecting me, running his knuckles along my jaw, feeling the fabric of my clothes, leaning in close. He muters things under his breath that I can’t quite make out. They sound like observations, noting bags under my eyes or a healed burn from cooking.
“You closed the gate,” he says finally.
I swallow. “...I’m sorry.”
He raises his shoulder in a half shrug. “You did what you did.”
I don’t know what that means. It’s not forgiveness, it’s not an accusation, he doesn’t even sound upset. It’s a blank statement. I can’t make sense of it.
He straightens, resting one hand on the top of my head. “Hm… Did you get taller?”
I blink. “...maybe?”
He hums. “Interesting.”
“Are you… Are you mad at me?”
He meets my gaze. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
I flush. The question sounds teasing, even if his voice stays flat. “I-I don’t know.. A little bit.”
“I’m…” He pauses, deliberating. “Not sure.”
My heart sinks. “Oh.”
“I can understand your actions. They are fair. They sadden me, of course, but it is my own fault. There is only so much pain one can inflict. You have much more cause to be upset with me than I of you.” He talks like he’s choosing his words very carefully.
I glance past him, vision blurring as tears well up. “I missed you.”
He falters, throat bobbing. “I suppose…” he begins quietly, “that means I did something right?”
He wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me against him. It’s as if my body has just given up, my legs giving out below me. I hide my face in his chest and sob, his grip on my adjusting to hold me up.
“I… I missed you as well…”
I try to cling onto him tighter, feeling the vines moving over his body, slimy and uncomfortable. They dig into me when I get close. Instead, I step back, wrapping my arms around myself.
He frowns. “What have I done now?”
“Those… tentacles…”
“Oh. I can’t seem to get rid of them.”
The statement angers me for some reason, nails digging into my palm. What does he mean, he ‘can’t get rid of them’? He’s the most powerful person I know! I’ve thought about him for months, and now that he’s in front of me, I can’t even hug him without it hurting?
I reach my hands out, focusing on the vines around him. I grit my teeth and make a tearing motion, ripping it apart. He stumbles back, making a choked sound of pain, but I do it again. Again and again, pulling apart the disgusting tentacles with a spray of blood. They hit the ground, flailing like worms before falling limp.
Henry stands there, shaking and splattered red. The look in his eyes is strange, confusion and realization and hurt. I stare back at him, breathes heavy and heart beating too fast.
“I practiced, even when you weren’t there. With textbooks… with people.”
He nods slowly, then smiles. “Oh yes?”
“I killed someone. Two people. Hid their bodies in the woods, but I think something ate them. I don’t know if they deserved it.”
“Did that scare you?”
“...I don’t know. I didn’t feel anything, but afterwards I threw up.”
He chuckles slightly. “It’s like I said, so many years ago. We’re alike.” He steps forward, holding my face between his bloodstained hands, and presses a kiss to my forehead. “But, as I do my best not to hurt you… I would appreciate a similar courtesy.”
“In my defense, you aren’t very good at it.”
He raises his brow, looking like a scolding parent. “Is that so?”
“Mhm.”
He sighs, hands sliding down to my shoulders. He pulls me against him in a simple motion, taking advantage of the lack of tentacles. His heart is beating faster than normal, breaths coming out strangely laboured for the situation. His fingers tangle into my hair, gripping tightly, shaking slightly. There’s something wrong.
“Henry?” I murmur quietly.
“It’s okay.”
“Is He..?”
“Questionning.”
“Right.”
I swallow, my lids sitting heavy over my eyes, blurring my vision. He still feels cold too the touch–more so than usual, which makes sense–but it’s still comfortable to be back with my… I still don’t know. He’s right, though. I definitely did get a bit taller.
Henry’s body tenses, hands balling into fists and I wince at the pain in my scalp. Something builds around my ribs, tightening, making it hard to breathe. I cough, hitting against his chest, but he doesn’t let go.
“H-hurts-” I choke out, hands balling into fists.
“You…” he murmurs, voice low, almost a growl, “...have been such a nuisance. Again and again, you get in the way.”
Damn it… I kick at his legs, trying to get him off balance, but He just throws me down against the ground. My back hits the rotting earth, Henry’s abilities holding me in place and making my limbs feel like the weigh millions. I push against them with my own, but He steps down on my chest.
“However, you’re foolish. You free me of your own volition. Now that the gate is open, I can get rid of you and finally have full control.”
He tilts his head to the side and I feel a force against my neck, but I keep my head steady. “I… a-am going to… to get Him out of y-you! I w-will free you, Henry!”
I throw myself to the side, grabbing onto one of the tentacles and ripping it in half. He staggers back, gritting his teeth, and his concentration snaps. I take the opportunity to run, reaching my hands through the portal just as he reaches out his own, using his abilities to try and yank me back. I feel it pulling at me, forcing me to cling to the sides of the tree, my torso split between two dimensions.
“I’ll be right back, Henry! I swear it!”
I force myself to the other side, hitting the fresh grass and running. Nothing seems to come after me, the feeling of Henry’s magic wrapped around me vanishes and I don’t hear another sound. Still, I refuse to look back, not stopping until the house is in sight, my chest is heaving and my legs feel sore.
I lean against the outside wall, finally peering back through the woods. No one’s there. He just let me go.