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Had he been quicker, maybe he would have known to run toward the left and not the right. Had he been smarter, maybe he would have known that the dark alleyway that he’d been quickly approaching may not have been the best of places to run toward. Had he been wiser, maybe he wouldn’t have found himself standing before what was akin to a man’s worst nightmare.
But he was none of those things, as he’d regrettably found, and he was now at the mercy of a large, foul beast that seemed more of a delusion to his eyes than real. Maybe it was those monstrous, haunting hallucinations again - those same voices that had told him to turn right, not left. The same whispers that told him to go toward the dark alleyway over any other path he could have chosen.
The same voices that now told him to stay, not run, when faced with this same creature.
So, he obeyed, because the voices hadn’t wronged him yet in this life. They were all he had left, after all, so few things were left to sacrifice when it came to this miserable existence. He heard the heavy footsteps behind him gaining, their scents mixed with overpowering anger and unchecked dominance, very unaware of the fate they were chasing their unfortunate victim to. He turned back around to face the beast, who breathed heavily into the air between them.
He hadn’t seen it coming - as the beast held no scent like his pursuers. There was no bitter alpha scent, nor the usual flowery scent of an omega or the hint of soft neutrality like a beta - it was as if the beast did not exist at all. And yet, before him it stood, its body towering over him easily. Those eyes, somehow void of emotion but filled with an unknown light source - like staring into an empty abyss, just continued to stare back at him. He felt an unfamiliar dread the longer he stared into those eyes - as if he were staring into his own fate - an ominous after-death of sorts. A quick glance down revealed a mouth filled with sharp, needle-like teeth that left him nauseous with just the mental images of what harm they could inflict on him. It almost took the shape of an over-sized rabbit, with an aura that felt far more malicious. And, for once, those haunting voices were silent, which only served to fill his heart with more dread as he reluctantly turned back around to his pursuers.
“There he is.” One man snarled, a sense of mockery filling his tone as he panted from the quick chase. “Really thought you could actually outrun us, Higgsbury?”
“Yeah, you should know better than that! Thought you learned your lesson the last time.” Another snickered breathlessly from beside the other. Wilson could see the third and fourth following not so far behind, but still quick to join the main pursuers.
He shivered in response, the faint memory of previous injuries left him praying for whatever this beast’s abilities were. He hoped, not for the first time, that the voices were right. Maybe this time he really would be be safe. They promised him strength, knowledge and the ability to finally, finally feel alive again. He was hoping for a miracle in this moment.
He felt something touch him then, a clawing motion that suddenly became an agonizing pain where it gripped him. He yelped in surprise, turning toward the beast with a look of pure horror. He watched it suddenly cling to him, its shadowy figure melting and molding into his own skin, leaving him screaming in panic as he stumbled backwards. The voices were suddenly loud then, shouting in his ears in tongues he couldn’t understand as he attempted to rip the creature from his body. It held onto his arm with a vengeance, sinking further into his skin as he turned to his previous enemies, watching them stare at him with terror in their eyes. He held his free hand out to them in a last effort of hope, dragging his feet across the ground as he cried, watching them quickly turn and leave him behind.
The world closed around him then as his knees buckled and forced him to the ground, a wave of powerlessness crashing into him as darkness began to overwhelm his senses. His vision slowly closed in and he found himself suddenly engulfed in a lightless space.
When he finally came to, after an indeterminable amount of time, he gently, weakly pushed himself up off the ground. His body trembled, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. A quick glance at his now-inky black arms left his breath hitching as he fell back in a scampering motion. He stared at them in shock, his eyes wide as he immediately moved to claw desperately at his own arms. It was with no success, like new-found tattoos, as he found himself slowly reserved to gently tugging at his own skin with a panicked frown. His hands had remained untouched, and a quick glance down his shirt assured him that it had remained only on his arms - just above the almost-missable marking on his wrist. Unlike a disease, the pattern was all there was - no injuries, no pain, nothing that indicated any form of danger to his health.
He swallowed slowly before he looked around the alleyway. The creature was gone, as well as the voices, leaving him to hear just the subtle background of familiar car horns and distant shouting of angry pedestrians. He licked his dry lips and took a deep breath before he hesitantly forced himself up. His legs were wobbly and his body ached, but he forced himself to take steady steps out of the alleyway after half-attempting to brush some of the dirt off his clothes. When he looked back, it was strangely far less dark, with even the glowing of sunlight seeping through the empty skyway. He blinked and blinked again, rubbing his eyes before he stumbled out into the bustling world.
Nothing seemed amiss at first, with the same cruel glares of people who shoved past him or the occasional shoving of unwanted papers into his hands. He noticed the curious glances down at his arms, grateful that no one had asked a single question about them. It also assured him that they weren’t hallucinations this time, but actual markings that had burned themselves into his skin. It’s not until he makes it onto the dark subway that his eyes slowly follow a strip of darkness into an unlit corner. There, he finds himself stiffening in sudden, paralyzing fear.
The shadows seemed to swirl and shift, mangled black hands clawing their way into the light as he squeezed the metal subway handrail. Faceless people around him seemed unfazed, not noticing the way he began to sweat and whimper lowly. Some would glance his way, in response to the drastically bitter shift in his scent, but would quickly dismiss him after first glance. He continued to watch the darkness as glowing eyes formed in the darkness, leaving him trembling before he turned to the back of the compartment. He quickly stumbled back, shoving his way through the back door into another compartment. This room was empty, save for a couple who glared at him when he fell inside the room upon entering. He didn’t have time to apologize, quick to turn around and find the shadows quickly gaining on him, their bodies morphing and shifting around the light as he yelped, quickly crawling into a standing position as he ran to the back of the compartment.
He could hear the speakers above him report something, though it seemed unusually garbled and full of static that left him cupping his ears. The whole world seemed to be closing in again, the darkness causing the dull fluorescent lights to flicker in the car compartment as he looked around in panic. He felt everything shift then until the subway screeched to a stop, allowing him only a moment to grab onto a railing before the air shifted in response. He watched the doors reluctantly open, the scraping of the metal somehow a relieving sound as he ran out of the subway. He ran up the steps, thankful for the blinding sunlight that greeted him. He looked back, his breaths slowing when the shadows had disappeared once again.
He ran home then, avoiding any and all dark areas that he could make out. It was unlike him, having always avoided people at all costs - but being near people meant being near light of some sort. When he shoved his way into his apartment, he turned on every light he could find and assessed the entire area. No darkness was left alone, with every light he’d obtained over the years for his various science experiments now pointed in every corner, every sliver of untouched space now brightly illuminated.
“I’ve gone completely mad.” Wilson whimpered, bringing his hands up to squeeze his hair. “This isn’t real - it can’t be real.”
Something came to him then, an idea of what may have caused this sudden disease, as he quickly walked toward his desk. Papers were scattered everywhere, equations with large scribbles haphazardly doodle throughout them, designs and writing scrawled up, down and sideways along wrinkled papers. He flung papers to the floor that he deemed unfit for the search, looking in a panicked state as his eyes skimmed quickly for a familiar equation.
He finally shifted through enough unfinished work to find it - the single equation that must have done this. He scanned through it, his mind replaying the events as he thought about what could have gone wrong. Had he carried the wrong number? Had he added the incorrect ingredients? It all seemed fine - but the voices, the voices had told him what to do.
The voices wouldn’t have done this to him - would they?
He turned to the supposedly half-finished machine on his desk. There was no way it had worked - it had been a curious mistake when he flipped the switch earlier that day. Maybe that had been it - maybe if he finished it, this would all be okay again. He looked down at his arms, still inky black and unmoving. He found himself grateful that it had, at the very least, avoided the soulmate mark on his wrist, the only grateful feeling he’d held thus far. It felt like the only anchor to his sanity in that moment, even despite his steadily growing resentment toward the simple design. He swallowed thickly as he slowly turned back to the machine.
He’d needed another gear, a special gear, which had been the whole reason he’d even gone out. A mistake, especially at this time of day, where the goons of his nightmares stalked in the daylight. He couldn’t possibly leave at night, however, with the lurking of unknown beasts in the shadows. He felt the need to go to the hospital - to have himself checked out, but he had a very good feeling he’d be hospitalized for long-term care, and not for possible physical injuries.
It wasn’t his first time being seen as an insane, rambling maniac. He didn’t want to go back to that place again - not with the strange antics of pyromaniacs and those who believed they could turn into beasts at their own whims.
He whimpered loudly, curling into himself atop his desk as he tried to think of what he should do. There was no one to turn to and no way he could seek help that wouldn’t backfire on him. The voices were eerily quiet and the silence slowly drove him further into lonely madness. The longer it stretched, the more the world seemed to swirl and double in his eyes, leaving him to make his way to his old, battered TV quickly. The static of reporters talking and music playing in the background eased his nerves slightly, even with the strange wave to their voices that felt surreal. His eyes still scanned the room for that fearful darkness or the creature that had left him trembling. There was no way he could do this forever - but the fear of what the shadows held left him trembling as he turned to the machine once more.
“I need more time.” Wilson breathed in a panic, grabbing onto the machine.
“Then more time you shall receive.”
Wilson looked around quickly, perturbed when an empty room remained around him. He shook his head, cringing at the way his own home suddenly felt more unsafe than the dark alleyway.
“You’ve only ever wanted what was best for yourself and there’s only one, very simple, way to do so.” The voice continued - very unlike the other voices that had assisted him. This was of an unfamiliar man, like an actual human being. It felt strangely comforting, like a physical being was actually there with him. “Finish the machine, Wilson.”
“I-I don’t have the right gears, though.” Wilson stammered, glancing around the room.
“That is where you are very wrong.”
And before him, even among the blinding lights, shadowed hands reach onto his desk and drop gears with quiet thunks onto the wooden surface. The hands themselves were black, like staring into an unknown void, and clawed, quickly slinking back into an unending darkness.
“You will have everything that you will ever need, so long as you follow the rules and do as I say.”
Wilson swallowed thickly and reached forward, grabbing a gear between two ungloved fingers. It was heavy and endlessly dark. No light shined through or bounced atop them, as if they absorbed all light among them.
Wilson looked around then, somehow aware that the voice was now gone. He looked back down at the gears and nodded to himself, knowing work needed to be done. He was quick to hoist his lab coat over his small body and slip his goggles on, ready to continue his work despite the hair on his neck standing - very aware that the hidden shadows watched him. But perhaps this machine could help him remove whatever horrid beast had attached itself to him. Maybe it finally could offer the knowledge he needed to escape this harsh, brutal reality he’d found himself in.
Maybe it would help him finally, finally find his long-lost mate.
It was the early sunrise of the next day when Wilson squeaked in exhausted excitement. He lifted the heavy machine with a wide smile, the delirium of sleepless nights enhancing his thrill as his eyes roamed over various handmade knobs and scrolling screens. Filled with accomplishment and success, he placed the machine down on his desk and grinned, his finger reaching toward the power switch before he hesitated.
“Go ahead.” That same voice from earlier encouraged. It was warm and impressed - Wilson found he really liked that sound.
Wilson swallowed, only slightly hesitant, before nodding and flipping the switch easily. Nothing had happened, leaving Wilson sighing in quiet disappointment. Again, again he’d failed. It would never end - this cycle of failure. He’d failed his parents, he’d failed his soulmate, and now he’d failed the voices that had tried to help him.
He could feel tears threaten to form at his self-inflicted anger. He ripped his goggles off and threw them across the room, his jaw clenched in a saddened snarl. He could see shadows form around the goggles then, forcing his eyes wide as his head swiveled to look around the room. Light after light flickered off, forcing his heart to stutter in fear as his eyes met with the large beast from before. He shook his head, stumbling back toward his desk as he gasped.
It hopped forward in the darkness, its body no longer shifting and morphing in the dark and instead remaining in a perpetual bunny silhouette, before it stood before him - just enough of the lights having flickered off for it to stand before him in his room. And then, oddly, it smiled at him and held out a malformed paw. Wilson risked a glance down, his body relaxing only slightly when a single shadowed carrot rested between them. Wilson blinked and watched that same carrot morph and shift before it took the form of a small shadowed rabbit.
“A gift for my pal.” That warm voice stated from above.
And with that, the small black rabbit hopped onto the ground with a soft thud, its eyes a glowing white as it sniffed around his room. When Wilson turned back, the monstrous rabbit creature was gone, and the lights were on once again. He turned back and gently lifted the rabbit into his hands, curiously studying the way horns curled between long, stiff black ears. He poked one with a gloved hand, watching the rabbit shift in his arms before resting against his chest.
Wilson found himself smiling when it blinked up at him, its existence somehow strange and contrasted against this world as he held its frail body in his arms. He’d never received a gift before - and especially not a gift like this.
“Th-thank you.” Wilson rubbed gloved fingers over black fur softly. “But...what about my arms?”
“Consider that a gift as well.”
“What...what does it do?”
“Why, they’re your friends now, Wilson.” The voice mused. “They’re here to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Wilson asked softly before he paused, anxiously flexing his fingers. “And...and what about the machine?”
“Well, that’s for me to worry about, pal. You don’t have to be worry about anything anymore.”
Wilson watched shadows around him form, though they felt far less threatening than they’d ever been before. He blinked and smiled softly as he watched the shadows dance seamlessly around him. That warm voice continued - comforting, protecting.
“You’re safe now. Just do as I say and I’ll make sure you’ll get everything you’ve ever wanted.”
“O-Okay.” Wilson replies in a soft, grateful hum. He looks down at the rabbit, smiling softly as it sniffed the air between them. The weight of it in his arms seemed to lift the weight off his own chest - a feeling of unfamiliar relief washing over him as he hugged it closer to his chest.
It was the first time he’d ever felt like someone was actually in his corner - that someone actually wanted him.
He’d never felt better.