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Language:
English
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Published:
2020-04-23
Words:
738
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
17
Kudos:
124
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10
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977

Town Above

Summary:

Quirrel asks Little Ghost to do a favor for him.

Notes:

if u feel like yelling at me on twt u can find me @mon0mons!! my tumblr is a-yart as well ;w;

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

They just wanted to get him a delicate flower.

They left, and for too long, returning too late.

Masses of orange infection throbbed upon the rocky ceiling, dripping down in thick clumps and mixing with the once clear blue water, turning it into the dirtiest, opaque shade.

And just before them he sat, hands clutching head, infection pulsing out of a hole in his back.

With sensetive hearing, just the tiniest step towards him caused Quirrel to sharply turn to see what was behind him, even recoiling a bit. A faint orange sat in his once dark, now fearful eyes that softened upon the familiar figure, yet hadn't fully consumed them, proving there was… still time.

The delicate flower broke upon colliding with the floor, and Little Ghost hurried towards him, only to be stopped by his beg.

"I… I advise you cease your approach…."

A groan escaped him. Reluctantly, Ghost obeyed, their stubby hands visibly trembling out of fear, and an aura of worry surrounded them with haste.

Even in all this, the pill bug managed a weak laugh.

"Don't fret, my friend… don't fret."

Ghost still fretted. It was evident he was trying his best to keept calm and composed, and maintain a stable body and mind to make Ghost feel a little less fearful. Unsure if it truly worked, they slowly resumed their approach.

Quirrel let out a pained shrill that shook Ghost to their core as the infection in his back pulsed. They would sob, if they had a voice. Black substance leaked from the eye holes in their shell, presumably as a replacement for tears.

Quirrel followed his horrifying shriek with another humble chuckle.

"My friend… hear me out, won't you?"

Ghost finally got close enough to where Quirrel could grasp the sides of their shell. He held onto it tight, either out of pain or simply being a beloved clutch, but Ghost felt nothing, only flinching at the sudden sound. There were no nerves within the shell, after all.

With begging eyes, Quirrel heaved out a command.

"I need you to kill me."

Wildly, Ghost shook their head, more of those black tears pouring down and dripping onto the ground in small masses. Quirrel's expression didn't falter, in fact it grew sadder.

He looked like he truly was in pain. Desperate.

Wasn't there any other way? Could not Little Ghost save their friend without killing him? Why was death a necessary fate?

They pulled out their nail… but stabbed it into the ground as a declaration that said "I will not kill you". They attempted to drag Quirrel by slinging his arm over their tiny shoulders. "Dirtmouth", they signed. "Town above. They will help."

Quirrel laughed again, notably more weaker. He suppressed a low growl that the infection tried to prompt him to release.

"I appreciate... your kindness, my friend, but I am afraid… it is too late for my old self. The kind folks up there… shouldn't see me in such a horrid state." he coughed. "I am afraid to ruin the ambiance."

Ghost would've let out another sob, but they didn't. They couldn't. They barely made it from their original spot, but they gently let him sit back down.

"My friend… I care for you… I do not hope for you to meet an end at my hand… please, before it is truly too late…"

Quirrel embraced Ghost's shell, rocking them back and forth and whispering to them kind words. He shook violently. Another loud groan.

"My friend…. please… it hurts me."

That seemed to break Ghost, because they fell to their knees, desperate for a voice to cry out with. Instead, they were plagued by this oppressive silence. They could give no words of comfort of theirs, and neither could they wail.

However, the nail, which was not far, was tugged from the ground. They sat with the nail aimed at a spot in Quirrel's abdomen, where infection was now throbbing out. They were so very hesitant, but Quirrel's embrace did not yet cease.

"Do it. I will not bear any antipathy against you."

With a silent, nonexistent scream…

The thrust was soft, almost unnoticeable, and over in seconds.

A gentle hand fell away, but another remained, and looked into the eyes stained with black tears softly.

"Thank you… my friend…"

Quirrel looked up. A look of… peace? Yeah… peace. It was his definitive expression.

His voice smiled.

"Madam…."

Notes:

oh yeah woo yeah