Archive of Our Own ^beta

A music box.

He recognized the sound, but it was cold comfort as he creeped down the stairs of the cabin nestled in the woods.
Why he was drawn to the sound, he couldn’t tell. Danger crackled all around him, putting all his nerves on edge, but the twinkle of the notes urged him on.

The air was still, and he could catch glimpses of something floating around in the air through beams of light.
Dust, he’d initially thought. But upon closer inspection, it looked more like soft fuzz - stuffing.

The stair at the bottom was broken, seemingly smashed in. He’d almost tripped over it on his way down, but caught himself at the last minute.

He followed the sound of the soft music, careful not to make any sudden movements.
The tune led him to a wooden door, rotting near the bottom.

Through the cracks in the splintered wood, he could see another child, turning the crank of the music box in question, seemingly engrossed in the item, unaware of him just outside.

He backed away quietly, unsure if he should alert them of his presence.
Turning on heels into the room in the back, he found a hatchet, stuck to the side of a large box.

Gears turned in his head quickly, and as he leapt up to pull the hatchet out with his weight, he briefly wondered how the other child wound up in the cabin in the first place.

He thought of all the traps he’d passed by in the forest, the cages he’d seen just outside the cabin.
It was probably better that he didn’t know.

Dragging the hatchet as quietly as he could to the rotting door, he grit his teeth, squeezing the handle of the hatchet securely.

Thudding from above made him pause, and he hesitated at the door until the noise faded off.

The hatchet would spook the child at best, and the sound of him smashing the door would alert whoever was making the distant thundering footsteps above them at worst.

Frankly, it seemed like a lose-lose situation either way.

But he stood at the door, listening to the gentle melody of the music box, and made a decision.

He’d read about strong, fearless figures in stories, the kind who’d protect others, who others looked up to and loved.

And though he was thoroughly convinced the world hated him and wanted nothing but his failure, he realized this was his chance.

A chance for him to be brave, a chance for him to save someone, a chance to be a hero.

He took a deep breath, and swung.

“I’m Mono,” he said shortly, his voice almost drowned out by the ambiance of rushing water and the odd static crackle of a TV that drifted by.

His mild introduction was met with an innocuous glance and silence.
She was curled up on the other side of the door, seemingly unwilling to converse.

It had been hopeful thinking, he knew, assuming they’d be friends after their wordless agreement to cooperate back in the cabin.
She’d hardly said a word to him, save for a few whispers and calls to get his attention.

He fidgeted his fingers, awkwardly dipping his hand into the cold water before flicking the droplets off.
He pulled his jacket over his arms tightly, briefly wondering if his new companion was cold as well, though she didn’t shiver like he did.

He got no response, and he guessed the subject had been dropped before it had even been brought up.

It wasn’t like he’d expected any particular kindness from the stranger, but… she’d offered her hand to him, and Mono had never held someone else’s hand before.
He had worried he might have clutched her hand too tightly in his fear, but she had never complained if so.

His mind drifted back to the wilderness prior; the cold breeze that cut through the fabric of his jacket and sent chills up his spine, the stale air in the house that felt like he could suffocate in, the deafening roar of the shotgun that threatened to split his ears, the sheer adrenaline pumping through him that propelled him through the mud and tall grass and made him forget about everything besides survival, the moment of stillness after he had pulled the trigger and the gun exploded, the way his head had felt like it was going to break from the impact.

They had left without checking if he was dead.
Mono wondered if he had died alone there, surrounded by nothing but quiet woods. The thought horrified him.

“Six.”

Mono shuddered himself back to reality, jumping lightly at his newly found companion’s small voice - he’d almost forgotten he was sharing the door with someone else, she had been so still.
For a moment, he wondered if he’d imagined it while he was lost in his thoughts, but he caught the small peek that she took over her huddled shoulder, though her eyes were hidden through her messy bangs.

He echoed cautiously, “Six?”
He’d never heard the name before, though he supposed his own was uncommon as well.
His inquiry was met with silence again, and she stared forward as if that answered him.

“Six,” he muttered to himself firmly, as if making doubly sure that he got it right.

Somehow, that name suited her.

The rotten scent in the air and the screeches of the bully children filled his senses.
He was completely surrounded by them, and he didn’t dare move too close to them.

They ignored him, the broken head he’d stolen shielding his face, and for the first time in his life, Mono felt relieved to go so unnoticed by others.

He found it strange that the bully children seemed to not only be aggressive toward him, but toward each other. They pinned each other down, kicked and pulled, tied each other up.

He had initially assumed they worked in tandem together after they’d taken Six, but it seemed that was only a whim of a few of them.

He’d thought the children were unruly when they’d first arrived at the school, but they seemed even more so as he snuck through the cafeteria.
He supposed this was the only time they weren’t under the watchful eye of the teacher.

The teacher herself moved through rooms with purpose as she prepped for her upcoming classes, and when she wasn’t chasing him down with her impossibly long neck, she seemed like a relatively normal teacher.
Normal compared to everything else, at least.

The school seemed to stretch on and on, and though he traversed carefully, he still jolted when a wooden plank underneath him creaked and he ducked, bracing for the traps that swung from above.

He’d seen enough of the traps throughout the school that he knew what to look out for to avoid them.
He deliberately set them off, letting the mindless bullies get caught in their own trap, shattering their porcelain heads on the buckets that swung from the ceiling when Mono didn’t have a hammer to crush them under.

Mono had almost gotten attuned to the school and the dangers of it, and for a brief moment, he even considered how easy it would be to live around the hallways and classrooms if he gave himself more time to learn his way around.

The school was fairly well-kept, all things considered.
With a hammer in tow, the bully children were practically a nonissue, leaving only the teacher as the main threat, and even she kept to a pretty rigid schedule.

It was tempting for sure, but he knew better.
Maybe another time.

He had a mission, after all.

The thud that echoed around the bathroom made his stomach drop as he smashed the piece of wood holding Six high above him.
Dropping the sledgehammer, he rushed to her side, worried that she’d fallen from too great a height.

“Hey,” he called nervously, reaching his hand out to tap her head.

She stirred before he could reach her, so he drew his hand back quickly, worried he might startle her.
Through her bangs, she looked around curiously, like she wasn’t sure where she was, until her gaze landed on him.

He knelt down and offered his hand, giving her a reassuring smile, though he knew she couldn’t see it under the paper bag that hid his face.
It was the thought that counted, he figured.

She tentatively took his hand, and he hoisted her to her feet, catching her before she could tumble forwards and allowing her to steady herself on his shoulder.

“You okay?” he whispered once she’d found her footing.

She paused for a moment, looking over the dirty bathroom and frowning at the broken dolls in the corner. Though he couldn’t see her eyes under her bangs, he could tell she was glaring at them.
When she turned back to him, she nodded silently.

Mono breathed a sigh of relief, taking her hand in his, partially for her if she still needed support, and partially to quell his own nerves.
She squeezed his hand back, ever so slightly, and he decided it was a sign of her gratitude.

He felt warm, safe, not alone.
“Come on,” he said as he led her by the hand. “Let’s get out of this place for good.”

Rain pelted down over them, flooding the streets.

Though his paper bag provided a slight shelter, droplets still leaked through, making the inside of his bag moist and humid.
Even worse than him, Six’s sweater sponged any rain that fell on her, leaving her drenched.
She shivered, pulling her arms around herself and shielding her eyes from the downpour.

It wasn’t much, especially since his jacket was also just as soaked, but he lifted the flap of it and gestured for her.
“Here, Six. It’ll at least keep you a little dry.”

She contemplated it before relenting and sidling up next to him and pulling the flap of his jacket over her head and allowing him to lead her.

He glanced around, looking for any kind of shelter, wondering if they could just wait out the rain, though it didn’t seem like it had any chance of stopping soon.

Garbage lined the streets, providing little to no shelter and the ones that seemed to were already soaked through enough that it wouldn’t matter if they used it.

He came upon a door leading into what looked like an abandoned building, the boards already broken and rotting in the rain.

At the very least, he was sure it’d be drier inside than out on the streets. He led them through the door and stopped when he spotted something laying on the ground.

“Six, look at this,” he nudged her, gesturing towards the raincoat laying among the boxes and larger articles of clothing.

She looked up, emerging from under the flap of his jacket and approached the raincoat slowly.
While she studied it, he stood in a corner of the room and squeezed what moisture he could out of his jacket and briefly took off his paper bag to shake his hair of the water that had leaked through.

Six seemed to examine the raincoat, almost as though she recognized it.
He thought briefly to ask, but just as he considered it, she knelt down and slipped the coat on over her sweater and pulled the hood over her head.

Yellow, he found, suited her as well.

Adrenaline still pumped through his veins as he carried the fuse through the shattered glass of the door.

He’d made sure the hand creature had stopped moving, but he briefly considered triple checking, just in case.
As much as he was tempted to, he shook his head, remembering that Six was waiting for him.

His feet landed on the shards and he winced as he felt the cuts, but he ignored it and glanced around, pulse spiking when he couldn’t immediately find Six.

He was ready to call for her when he heard a rustling in the room across the hall.

Rather than rustling, it sounded like… snapping, perhaps?

Tiptoeing into the room, hugging the fuse to his chest tightly, he stopped in the doorway.

She was sitting on the floor, prosthetic arm in her lap. A sickening crunch followed, and Mono blinked, taking a step forward.
He couldn’t quite see what she had been doing as she leaned over the prosthetic, unaware of him.

“Hey,” he called quietly, almost jolting when one final crack echoed in the room just as he’d called out.

She looked up, and he caught a glimpse at the mangled fingers of the arm.

“Hey,” she replied, standing up and looking Mono over.
Her eyes landed on his feet and she pointed to them, stating casually, “You’re bleeding.”

Mono followed her gaze. His feet were bloodied, though not gruesomely. They stung, and behind him, he’d left a light trail of blood.
Still, it wasn’t like he could do much about them, and they had other things to worry about anyway. He wanted to get out of this area as soon as possible.

He shook his head, holding up the fuse.
“I found this,” he offered.

Six’s eyes, shadowed by the hood that she kept up of her raincoat, watched him, hidden under his paper bag.
At times, he felt as if she could see right through the eye holes of his paper bag, right into the face he so desperately hid from the world.

It made him feel exposed and vulnerable, and it sent chills up his spine, but he didn’t dare look away.

Then she nodded and stepped aside.
“Lead the way.”

He slid across the tile floor, his throat burning through his ragged breathing.
Behind him, arms protruded out of the barred up doorway, desperately clawing for anything to grab onto.

He spun around to watch them, fearing that they were strong enough to bust down the remaining boards.

“Mono.”
From across the room, she called him, and he turned to her, thankful for his bag hiding the fear in his eyes.
She tilted her head at him slightly, looking between where he sat on the floor and the mass of plastic arms squirming in the doorway.

“The fuse,” she continued, pointing at the electrical box hooked up to the ominous chair in the center of the room.

Mono swallowed, struggling to collect himself and calm his racing heart.
He fought his terrified mind, pulling himself to his feet and stumbling as his legs still gave way under him.
He clutched his flashlight to his chest, though it did little to stabilize his quivering.

“Hey, nerd.”

Mono’s head spun in Six’s direction, convinced he must have misheard her over the clatter of the plastic mannequin arms.

“N-nerd?!” he echoed, aghast as she simply stood at the bars, unreadable.

He’d noticed her becoming much more comfortable with conversing over time as they’d traversed through the city; she would reply to him when he spoke to her and though she rarely started conversations, she often simply stated whatever she felt needed to be said, even if it was obvious.

He wasn’t aware “nerd” was in her vocabulary, let alone that she’d call him that.
Somehow, he felt both touched and mildly offended.

Six looked unfazed, as if she had called him that regularly as she stuck her hand through the bars to point beyond him.
He followed her finger, looking behind him to see a ball on the floor between him and the boarded up door.

“That ball,” she suggested, “Throw it at those hands. Give ‘em something to grab.”

“Uh,” Mono began, glancing back up to the arms, still clawing at empty air. “I don’t know about that.”

“You don’t have to get close to them if you toss it.”

“Why am I doing this again?” Mono asked, though he still found his footing and wandered over to the stray ball in the middle of the room.
Somehow, talking to her comforted him.
He picked the ball up and looked back over his shoulder as if waiting for further instructions.

She shrugged, what little of her face that he could see, unchanging and indifferent.
“For fun.”

Mono was fairly certain “fun” wasn’t in Six’s vocabulary either, but he also felt obliged to do it simply because she seldom ever directly told him to do anything.
He crept over to the door, but kept a safe distance from it, flinching when a hand surged forward to no avail.
He peeked over his shoulder at Six, as if doubly confirming this was what she wanted and was met with her usual blank stare.

With a grunt, he lobbed the ball into the mess of hands, quickly retreating a further distance away, just in case.
He expected the hands to ignore the ball, or maybe they were strong enough to just pop the ball with a squeeze.

But to his surprise, one of the hands snatched the ball, twisted it between its fingers, and then sent it back towards him as if it had realized it wasn’t interested in whatever it had grabbed.

Despite running for his life from the mannequins only moments earlier, that single act made them seem so much less threatening - childish, even.
He found himself thinking, I was scared of these? and before he thought to hold it in, he breathed a laugh.

Almost surprised at himself for laughing, he paused, then turned back to check if Six had seen it as well. Though she wasn’t chuckling at it like him, she gave him a wordless thumbs up and a nod.

He gave one final snort at the mannequins, noticing how his pulse had settled. He slid his hand over his chest, just to feel his own contented heartbeat, and he sighed in relief.
He knew, of course, that Six couldn’t see his face under the paper bag, but he still aimed a grateful smile in her direction.

She rattled lightly on the cell bars in punctuation as she reminded him, “The fuse, nerd. I could have gotten you out of there years ago.”

“Whoops.”
He turned and noted the stool by the lever that he could only assume powered the chair in the middle of the room.
A series of cracks and sparks later, the fuse blew out onto the floor and he hopped down to pick it up.

As he picked it up, he asked, “Where did ‘nerd’ even come from?”
He hurled the fuse into the mouth of the metal chute, and Six hopped up on the overturned bucket on the other side.

“The doll kids from before,” she answered as she pulled the handle and the fuse launched out of the chute from the impact and fell to the floor.
When she turned to slot it into the outlet to open the bars, she added, “It fits you.”

“That’s not very nice,” Mono remarked with a lighthearted huff as the door began to slide open with a series of metallic clangs.

Once he joined her on the other side, she approached him and gave him a firm pat on his shoulder.

“Nerd.”

He stood, still catching his breath as the leftover muffled screams petered out and all that was left was the low drum of the incinerator.

Six huddled around the small opening at the bottom, holding her hands up to the flames, waving smoke out of her face.
She glanced up at him, watched his ragged breathing, and gestured to the spot next to her.
“Sit down. It’s warm,” she offered,

“That’s not very nice,” Mono repeated his earlier comment, but despite that, he still sunk down next to her, catching his breath.

She shrugged. “Trying to kill us isn’t very nice, either.”

Mono looked back at the rumbling incinerator.
“Guess so,” he agreed resignedly. “It smells awful.”

“Everything smells awful,” Six pointed out.
He couldn’t deny that, and she added, “Your bag might catch fire if you get too close.”

“Well, I think it’s still raining outside, so hopefully that won’t be too much of a problem,” Mono replied with a small chuckle.

“It’s held up pretty well, after everything,” Six commented, letting her hands fall away from the heat. “Diving under the muck back in the woods, all the rain it’s soaked up…”

It was Mono’s turn to shrug.
“It’s resilient.”

“Maybe you should try something else on. Or don’t wear it at all.”
She seemed to ponder her own words before turning to him. “I don’t think I’ve seen your face.”

Mono scratched his cheek under his bag, suddenly flustered at the talk of his face.
“Um, I’d rather keep it on. I think I look pretty normal?”

“You think?”

“Well, I don’t have a neck that stretches, a porcelain head, or a lamp for a head. So, I think I have a normal face.”

“Lemme see.”
She leaned over into his space, looking hard into the eye holes of his paper bag as if that would allow her to peer into his face, and suddenly the heat from the incinerator was far too warm for his liking.

He veered away from her, pulling the paper bag securely over his head, briefly concerned she might try to pull it off of him herself.
“It’s getting warm in here. We should keep moving,” he advised quickly, getting to his feet.

He offered his hand to help her up and though her face was hidden in shadows and bangs as always, he could swear he caught the slightest pout before she took him up on his help.

One elevator ride up later, they came to a suspiciously quiet lobby area and agreed to take a bit of respite there, making use of the still-operational vending machine.
The cans of soda didn’t quite fill their hungry stomachs, but it gave them enough energy needed to run, at the very least.

Six watched intently as Mono lifted a can to his mouth, pushing the paper bag off his head enough to reveal his mouth.
He became anxious under her intense stare, quickly pulling the bag back down after sipping a drop of the soda, fixing his own gaze on the floor.

“You have a normal mouth,” Six concluded, looking down at her can, seemingly satisfied with that information.

“Of course I do!” Mono insisted incredulously.
It earned him a sound that he’d never heard from Six until now - a light snicker.

A rare noise - from either of them, really but especially from Six.

He stared down at the can in his hands before reaching up and pushing the paper bag from his mouth again, resting it on the bridge of his nose and taking a longer drink.

He supposed they were both normal, then.

“Is it… dead?” Mono asked quietly, cautiously walking around the corpse.
He didn’t dare look into the smoking TV it had crashed into, not willing to stomach whatever state the corpse’s face was in.

Six wandered to the side of the corpse and kicked lightly at the legs of it.
“Seems that way,” she answered.
She climbed on top of the TV where its head was hidden, and glanced down into it. Her face was unfazed by whatever she saw though, and she mused thoughtfully, “It didn’t even notice us.”

“That’s a good thing,” Mono reminded her.
He jumped up to the window sill above them and turned to look down at the body again, hands on his hips.
“Anything that doesn’t try to kill us is good in my book.”

“It’s just strange,” Six noted with a slight shrug.

“Let’s not think about it too much.”

Six cast one more glance at the body, seemingly in a deep contemplation that Mono couldn’t quite decipher.
She often did so - thinking hard about their surroundings without saying much aside from the obvious - and though he didn’t quite understand it, he felt like it was better that he didn’t ask.

He had a bad feeling about the city ever since they’d arrived anyway, especially from the TVs that they’d passed along the way.

He could never remember much whenever they encountered one that was on, just that Six was the one who pulled him out of whatever trance he’d get stuck in.
That, and he had awful headaches in response to the loud static. He could have sworn he had heard the white noise in corners of his mind, even when everything else was quiet.

A hallway.
He vaguely remembered a hallway as well, but its significance was lost on him.

His reaction to the TVs was another thing that Six always seemed to debate quietly to herself, but if she knew anything about it, she never said and he never pressed.

He leaned down from the window sill and offered his hand to her.

The jump from where she stood on the TV and the window sill wasn’t that far, and especially knowing how agile she was, Mono knew she didn’t need the help.
It always seemed like she was one step ahead of them when they were running through vents or scaling cabinets, after all.

“Careful,” he advised, “It’s still pouring out here, so it’s kind of slippery.”

Six jumped, and he caught her hand. He pulled her up.

They tread with extreme caution as the building groaned in protest beneath each footstep.
Many of the buildings they’d passed through were broken down and on the verge of rotting, but it seemed especially so with this one.

Mono climbed up the makeshift ladder of wooden planks boarding up a door, looking down into the next room for where he’d have to land. It felt as though even the slightest movement could send the building collapsing.
He glanced back behind him where Six was peering around the room he’d come from, a lone file cabinet tipped on its side, rain dripping in through an open hole in the ceiling.

“Hey, Six?”

She looked up at him at the call of her name.

“When you come through, get ready to run.”

She nodded as she readied herself to follow closely after him.

He crawled through and winced when a single floor panel in front of him jumped, causing a large pile of junk in the back of the room to unbalance.
A TV at the top of the pile slid down a shelf, threatening to fall while a few broken planks crashed to the floor.

Mono froze, holding his breath. Above them, dust and dirt filtered in from holes in the ceiling.
Six landed next to him, making him jump as the whole building began to rumble, the floor shaking underneath them.

They exchanged a knowing look and half a second later, they sprinted to the other side of the room, pushing their entire body weight into the door.
The door gave way much quicker than he’d expected, and it fell down from its hinges, causing the two to tumble down it into what looked like a hallway.

Scrambling to their feet, the ceiling began to cave above them.
Mono noticed an opening in the floor ahead and quickly prepared himself for the jump they’d have to make, speeding ahead of Six in hopes of being there to catch her if she couldn’t make it.

But just as his legs had committed to the jump, out of the corner of his eye, Six tripped and stumbled to the ground.
His stomach dropped as his leap lost the power and momentum to make it to the other side and he plummeted down into the hole, closing his eyes, bracing for any kind of impact.

Once the building had settled and sunk into silence, he cautiously opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. A single piece of wood pinned him down as his flashlight flickered out next to him in the rubble.

His head was ringing, but he shoved the board off of him and got to his feet. Aside from some minor cuts, he’d basically come away unscathed, miraculously.
Which just left...

His mind kicked into overdrive and he panicked, frantically looking around the dark room until he spotted a splash of yellow.

Staggering over debris, he rushed to where Six was trapped under a pile of wood planks supporting a couch, groaning and coughing among the dust.

They didn’t spend time on words while she held to his hands tightly as he pried her loose, feet slipping slightly on the damp floor.
He stumbled back as she landed next to him, still catching her breath.

They laid face-to-face on the floor, flinching when the couch behind them creaked and shifted, but didn’t threaten to topple over.

Mono let out a deep sigh of relief as he asked, “Are you okay, Six?”

The hood that usually covered her head had fallen back, and her messy hair hid her eyes.
“I think so,” she replied quietly, then looked him over in an unasked question as she sat up, pulling the hood of her raincoat back over her head.

“Me too,” Mono answered her expression, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. “Somehow.”
He reached out to offer his hand to her, but gasped when he spotted a smear of red dripping from her knee.
“You’re bleeding.”

She examined her wound, swiping her thumb over the blood and then studying her red thumb.
The wound itself wasn’t especially deep from what he could tell - some scraped skin - but he still scanned the room they’d fallen in, hoping to find something to aid the bleeding.
He regretted not taking anything from the hospital just in case...

Six seemed unperturbed by the wound though, already moving to stand up and only barely stumbling when she put pressure on her leg.
She turned to him like she was ready to go, but he hesitated.

“Um!” Mono nervously interjected, awkwardly kneeling down with his back to her. “I can carry you, if it hurts!”

“I can walk,” she assured, kicking her leg out to emphasize her point.

“Then, you can wipe your blood on my jacket!” he offered, holding out the bottom flap of his coat.

She stared at him and though he couldn’t see her eyes, he knew she was giving him a skeptical look of some kind.
He fidgeted his fingers awkwardly under her unseen eyes, looking down to appear to inspect the floor instead.

She gave a short sigh, catching his attention as she stepped closer to him.
“Alright, carry me, then,” she said with mild resignation.

He perked up, smiling under his paper bag. He knelt down in front of her, careful to be gentle holding her legs when she latched onto his back.
Part of him was aware she only let him carry her for his sake, but the other part of him was content that he was able to help her, even a little.

“You’re pretty easy to please, huh?” Six teased, amused. “Like a puppy.”

“H-huh?”

She lightly kicked his chest. “Let’s get out of here already, nerd.”

“Six, check this out!” Mono waved her over from the other side of the room.

She wandered over as he pulled out the postman hat he’d found in a small passage under piles of letters and packages.

She watched him as he took the paper bag off his head and replaced it with the postman hat proudly, hands on his hips. He folded up the paper bag neatly, tucking it into his pocket.
The brim of the hat along with his short bangs shadowed his eyes, but he still cheerfully looked at her.

“How do I look?” he asked, tipping the hat at her.

She examined him closely before she answered, “I can see your mouth.”

Suddenly hyper-aware of how open his face was, he pulled the brim of the hat down bashfully.
“I-I just thought it’d be nice to wear something new, like you said! Besides, you’ve already seen my mouth anyway, so I don’t really mind…”

She shrugged, turning to scan the room again.
“You sure care a lot about your face for someone who hides it all the time.”

“Haha, I guess so…” he trailed off, rubbing the seam of his jacket between his fingers. “I’ll keep my bag around though, I think.”

“I don’t think it looks bad,” she said offhandedly as she kicked over a stack of light packages. They toppled to the ground with an unceremonious clunk.
“Your bag is probably on the verge of falling apart by now anyway. Probably stinks.”

“It does not!” Mono protested, though he smiled quietly, readjusting the hat on his head.

Though he felt a little exposed without the solitude of his paper bag, he didn’t seem to mind it too much anymore.

His footsteps echoed as he ran down the hallway toward the door with the eye on it.
He had a feeling he’d done this before, but his mind was fuzzy and his memories were blurred.

As he drew closer to the door though, he felt as though the white noise occupying his mind began to fade, and his thoughts became clearer.
Somewhere in the back of his head, something - or someone, perhaps - was pulling him, but the allure of the door urged him on despite that.

He moved in slow motion as he leapt up and pulled the door handle - this was new, he could tell even if he couldn’t quite remember.
The door opened slowly, and he dropped down and stepped back, a fear suddenly overtaking all his senses. He was paralyzed, unable to move but every fiber, every nerve in his body was telling him to run.

A tall figure sat in a chair.
As he tried to squint and make out the face of the man, the image became unclear, his mind suddenly became foggy, and the ringing in his head became louder and louder, forming a headache that threatened to split his brain open.

Whatever had been pulling on him was tugging harder, until-

He was thrown back, the world around him spinning for a moment. The crackling in his ears hadn’t stopped though - if anything, it was louder than ever, pounding his brain and screaming at him.

“Mono!”

He blinked, trying desperately to clear his head of the static fog as he rose to his elbows, blinded by the white static of the TV.
His mind still felt like he was in slow motion as he glanced around his surroundings - he was back out of the TV trance, but something didn’t feel right.

Six gasped next to him, stumbling back away from the TV, but still reaching her hand out to him.
“We need to - we need to go,” she whispered, the most panicked he’d ever heard her.

That itself would have been cause for alarm, but something drew him to the TV and he watched the TV snow, looking for whatever she had been scared of.
For a few brief seconds, a dark figure contrasted somewhere far in the back of the bright screen, and he knew the figure from something, he was sure of it.

Even if he’d only seen it for a few moments, it seemed so familiar, and yet...

He watched the screen, mesmerized by it, searching for the figure in it, waiting for it to appear again.
To his left, Six was waving him on, urging him to run with a series of hisses.

A feeling suddenly overtook him, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was yet.
“What is…” he murmured to himself, slowly backing up, keeping his eyes trained on the white screen.
He got to his feet, and he knew Six was offering her hand next to him, but something about the screen was -

All at once, static attacked his mind, screeched in his ears, and he reeled back, holding his head and groaning in pain.
Long hands were appearing against the screen, if he could just -

The whole room shifted beneath them, throwing them both off kilter.
Six stumbled forward, using the momentum to sprint back the way they’d come as Mono caught himself before he could trip to the floor.

Between the static in his ears and the shaking of the room, he felt dizzy, trying to shake off whatever was clinging to his brain.
Something was - something was coming out of the TV, he realized far too late.

A long torso was emerging from inside the TV screen, and suddenly he realized the feeling that crawled all over him - fear.
Fear hit him all at once, and though the fuzz in his brain hadn’t ceased, he knew that he wasn’t paralyzed this time.
He forced every nerve in his body to get his legs moving and run after Six, pure adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He sprinted into the bedroom they’d passed on the way and almost didn’t even notice her cowering under the table until he’d slid his way under the bed.
Like a channel had been switched, the loudness in his head suddenly silenced, leaving only a dull buzz in its wake.

They watched each other from their hiding spots, holding their breath as the lights flickered.
It was quiet for only a moment until Mono blinked, and the shadow of the tall, thin man cast itself across the bedroom floor and the ground shifted and tilted under them.

The toys strewn around the room rattled as the room leaned, and Six was thrown from her spot with a gasp.
Mono began to reach for her, but the static kicked up in his ears again and he drew back, holding his head.

He heard a crackle, a scream, and silence.
And then she was gone.

It hurt.
His whole body felt sore, he wasn’t sure which part was injured the most.

The sounds of brakes screeching filled the tunnel, slowly fading out as he struggled to move.
His world was still spinning, and the only thing he could register was the remote he’d used to turn on the TVs was smoking, broken in half.

He couldn’t tell if he was bleeding. His side felt wet, but the train had been slick with rain when he’d jumped on. The subway was dimly lit, and his vision was blurry anyway.

He slowly stumbled to his feet, holding his side as his body strained in protest at any movement he made.
Nowhere to go but forward.

He followed the train tracks, his breathing layered in exertion, half keeled over.

A glitched out image of a familiar shape appeared in front of him, urging him onwards.
He couldn’t tell if he was hallucinating it, maybe due to his blurred vision, but he followed it nonetheless.

The glitched figure turned around when he caught up with it though, only to appear on the tracks ahead, balancing itself on the metal beam. It, too, vanished when he drew near, this time appearing behind him on a step, swinging its legs contentedly.

He pulled himself up the step and found himself met with a hallway, pain subsiding slowly as he determinedly pushed himself onwards.
The figure appeared at the end of the hall, looking up at the ladder that towered over him, rain filtering through the grate above.

Taking a deep breath, he ascended the ladder, pushing the drain grate up and finding himself in the middle of a street in the city.

Beyond him, the transmission tower loomed over him and the city.
He looked up at it, filling with a new determination as the buildings surrounding him bent and crumbled, the lamps along the street flickering as a tall, thin figure materialized in front of him.

Mono watched as it stared back at him.
He dropped to his knees, breathing evenly as he slowly pulled the hat from his head, letting it drift away down the flooded streets.

He felt the calmest he’d ever been as he stared down the thin man, rain soaking through his hair.

He would be brave. He would save someone. And he would be a hero.

A music box.

He recognized the sound, the melody, though he’d only heard it once before.
But it was cold comfort as he followed the twinkle of the notes through endless doors and up countless stairs, lit by a purple glow.

Chairs, debris, furniture floated around him, and a droning hummed in his ears uncomfortably.

Another staircase, though it seemed as if he’d moved pretty high up from where he’d started.
He climbed up the stairs toward a door, but as he passed through it, something crackled in his ears.

In front of him, down the hall, a door hung askew as the gentle notes of Six’s music box wafted out of it.
He swallowed, stepping up to the door slowly and squeezing himself through the crack in it.

The music box inside the room was larger than the one he knew, and stuffed bears, plastic toys, dolls, blocks littered the sides of the room. Some of them hung in suspension in midair, and photos on the wall were warped and twisted, turning the portraits into grotesque shapes.
The music box was about the size of Mono himself, and the crank turned on its own.

He stepped closer, but gasped and flinched back when he noticed the huge figure huddling in the corner of the room.

Long, bony fingers reached out and snatched the music box before Mono could get close to it, retreating back into its corner of the room.

Long, wiry hair obscured his view of its face. Its limbs were twisted and deformed, and it hovered over the music box protectively.

It adorned a familiar yellow raincoat.

“Six?” he called quietly, catching her attention.

She shifted, moving out of the corner and closer to the center of the room, toward him.
Her breathing was ragged, and she moved slowly and cautiously.

“Hey, it’s me, Mono,” Mono tried, stepping back as she came closer, looming over him.

She offered out her music box, setting it between them, but never looking away from it.
He looked around the room, noticing the mallet where she had been huddled before.

He knew immediately what he needed to do, but he still hesitated.

He wandered up close to her, resting his small hands on the rubber sleeve of her raincoat. She didn’t shove him away or react; in fact, it seemed she hardly even noticed him, too fixated on the music.
He looked up at her, though couldn’t make out her face, even this close up.

“Hey, Six,” he said softly, patting her misshapen arm gently, “It’s me. You remember me, right? You always call me nerd.”

She didn’t respond, and he squeezed the fabric between his hands.

“So, hey, listen.”

She watched the music box intently.

“I don’t want to do this, you know that right?”

The music box’s melody continued.

“But we have to get out of here. Together.”

He left her side, fingers closing around the mallet’s handle.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

He dragged the mallet along the wooden floor, stopped in front of her and the music box.
He closed his eyes, listening to the melody of the music box one last time.

It really was a lovely tune.

“I’m sorry, Six.”

He took a deep breath, and swung.

Something was rumbling around them just as he regained consciousness.

When he sat up, he noticed the way the walls of the building were crumbling. Something was inside of it, but he couldn’t quite tell what.
And there was Six, normal Six, staring down at the crushed music box, face hidden in the shadows of her hood.

Mono hesitantly offered his hand, taking a step toward her.
“Six-”

Everything under their feet stirred, and the walls bubbled and pulsated and breathed and blinked.
They shared a gasp, wincing as the squishy walls began to slide together, closing in around them.

A second later, Six shoved past him and took off in a sprint without a word.
He followed suit, keeping his eyes trained on her back, afraid that if he looked in the eyes of the wall, he’d get trapped.

Though he refused to look back, he knew it was right behind him, right on his heels.
The floorboards cracked open and through the holes, he saw the eyeballs among the sludge, watching closely as he jumped over them.
He’d never felt more watched in his life, in the most literal sense.

Six stayed a number of steps ahead of him - she’d always been so much more nimble compared to him.

It wasn’t the time, he knew, but he still shouted through labored breaths, “Six! I’m glad you’re okay!”

She didn’t look back at him, she didn’t acknowledge him at all.

He stumbled into a new room, tripping over the moving floor as Six continued on.
Scrambling to his feet, he saw a narrow bridge ahead, already crumbling, and a huge TV screen at the end of it. Their way out.

Ahead of him, Six landed on the platform where the TV screen stood, turning and waiting for him as the bridge began collapsing between them.

Mono held his breath, jumped, and caught her hand.

She looked down at him, and for the first time, their eyes met.

Her eyes, normally hidden behind her bangs, peered down at him in an unreadable expression.
They were dark, lined with bags from many sleepless days of travelling through the city. He couldn’t tell the color in the light, but he felt so deeply seen by those eyes.

He wasn’t sure what his own looked like in her eyes, but she scanned his face as he desperately clung to her, feet dangling above the pit of flesh and eyes.

“You really do have a normal face,” she said.

She pulled him up.

“I really am sorry about your music box.”

She looked over her shoulder where he stood, fidgeting his fingers.
He averted his eyes, glancing around the floor where posters were strewn about, and his mouth was turned down into a small, worried frown.

His eyes were dark, and his brown bangs stopped just above them. Somehow, his eyes matched his face, whatever that meant.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected him to look like, but it still somehow surprised her of just how normal he looked.

He’d said so before, but seeing for herself - among all the twisted creatures they’d seen through the city - it was actually quite relieving to see such a normal face.

She pulled the hood of her raincoat down to rest around her neck. Through her messy bangs, she looked back at him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and upon doing so, she realized it may have been the first time she had ever asked him that. He usually was, anyway.

He hesitated, eyes flicking up to her before casting back down to the floor.
She glanced down at the posters he seemed to be studying on the floor. They depicted some kind of ship in the middle of the sea, a title printed across the top that she couldn’t read.

“Well, thanks to you,” he answered, squeezing his hands together. “I’m glad you seem to be okay, too.”

She’d heard him shout something along those lines as well while they had been escaping. She didn’t really understand what he meant by it, but he often said things like that.
He was well-meaning, she assumed.

She wasn’t really sure what spurred her to, but she approached him quietly and while he was flailing his hands around anxiously unsure of what she was doing, she rested her forehead against his shoulder, silently inviting him.

She recalled him getting bashful when she got close to him back at the hospital, but he carefully wrapped his arms around her this time.
This, too, she didn’t quite understand. It made her tense up, not used to the feeling, but he made sure not to squeeze too tightly.

“I think I am, too,” she replied. “Glad that you seem to be okay, I mean.”
Tentatively, she pulled her own arms around his thin body, making him jump slightly, but he relaxed after a moment.
“We made it out together,” she mumbled through the fabric of his jacket.

The embrace was nice, she thought. It was warm, and though she never really understood the feeling of loneliness, it felt like the exact opposite of what she imagined it felt like.
It was nice, but somehow still uncomfortable. It was something she’d surely get used to over time, but she felt trapped in his arms, unable to move or run if she needed to, so she wriggled away after enduring it for about a minute.

Mono seemed pretty unfazed though, grinning like he’d gotten a great reward.
Their eyes met again, and she thought about how they must have looked this whole time.

The emotions that played across his face were always there, just hidden by the bag he’d worn.
Thinking back, she tried to imagine those expressions into the times she hadn’t been able to see his face.
Despite how normal he looked, the way his face contorted in emotions felt strange, like when his mouth stretched in a smile, when his eyebrows knitted in concentration, or when he nervously glanced around the room.

Compared to the emotionless faces of the creatures they’d come across up until now, his seemed so expressive, it almost creeped her out.

He took her hand gently, grinning brightly at her.

“We made it out together,” he confirmed.

“I think you should wear the paper bag after all.”

“Huh?!”