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He could feel them.
The eyes.
Their piercing gaze.
With every move Snorpy made, he could feel the familiar eyes shift and multiply as they all focused on him.
It was terrifying.
But at least they hadn’t shown themselves yet. That was good. It meant his preparations hadn’t been for naught.
But he still needed to focus on the eyes and remove them.
He stretched out from his foetal position on the bed. He shivered as eyes seemed to peel open from nowhere and stare right into his core, but he suppressed that shudder, forcing himself up and walked over to his “conspiracy table” (as it had come to be known to him, courtesy of Chandlo). On its surface and all around it there were pictures, books and other miscellaneous objects that at a glance one might assume had been misplaced. But to Snorpy, they were lifelines.
They were his key to stopping them from reaching him.
He hastily grabbed a collection of papers and set them out on the floor. Many of the scraps of paper contained the same scribblings of what looked like gibberish; upon further inspection, the word ‘BEGONE’ could barely be made out within the spiky, frantic handwriting. Snorpy collected them up once again, stabbing them each against a wall and securing them with pins, before linking them together with cut lengths of red string.
Why he did that, he momentarily wondered. It didn’t matter - he had to move fast.
He grabbed the largest paper next and put it in the middle of the wall. It was a hand-drawn map of an unknown location, densely covered with arrows pointing to the smallest island of a bunch. He continued to pile papers and objects onto the table; an antenna-topped tinfoil helmet, a satellite dish that took up most of the space.
When he was finally able to deem everything satisfactory, he reached for a book placed on the table, titled The Weaknesses of the Grumpinati, accompanying himself with a large floor lamp that served as the only light in the room when he flashed it threateningly on and off at the eyes.
“You!” He swivelled the handle around so the lamp faced the eyes, continuing to flash it. “You have ruined my life and hurt my Chandlo, so now I will take my revenge!” He chanted an incantation and turned the brightness up.
“You shouldn’t have trusted him.”
“Begone!”
“Why did you trust another grumpus with your problems?”
“Begone!”
“He doesn’t believe you. He thinks you’re insane. We’ve won.”
“Be…gone…”
“If he loves you then where is he?”
That was enough to make Snorpy pause. He finally dared to look directly at those eyes that he’d learnt to loathe.
“He’s all in your head. We’re the truth. Come to our side. You won’t regret it.”
He watched them, looking for signs of deceit. When he saw none, he slowly turned to the lamp and flicked its switch to off one last time. “What do I need to do?”
He heard a loud knock from the door. “Snorpy? You in here, bro?” The doorknob shook, and Snorpy was hit with the pang of an unpleasant reminder that the door to this room didn’t have a lock.
“He’s here! What did you do?”
“I did nothing!” he muttered desperately under his breath, though there was a rasp in his voice regardless of how much he tried to keep it down to an inaudible whisper. “I did as you said.”
“You lie. You lied to us." The doorknob still rattled for what felt like an eternity. “For that, you will pay. We will make you watch out for us. Everywhere you go, we will be watching.”
The door clicked open and Snorpy turned around rapidly. He stared with constricted pupils at the intruder standing in the doorway.
“Begone, stranger,” he choked out weakly, surprised to realise how much he struggled to raise his voice. He watched as the intruder’s expression morphed into one of bemused affliction, layered over an undertone of… was that sympathy?
“Snorpy…”
“Why are you here? How did you get in? How do you know my name?”
“Snorpy? It’s me. Chandlo.” The stranger gave Snorpy a look of desperation, his rather inappropriately dilated pupils reflecting the terror in Snorpy’s face back to him, making it impossible to maintain eye contact.
“I know of no Chandlo that exists here. The only Chandlo I know doesn’t exist.” His distant gaze moved back over to the other grumpus, who rubbed his eyes with his paw in distress. “You are toying with me. You’re the… the Grumpinati. Leave!” He faltered at the last few words.
“Snorpy, I know you’ve made up your mind about this, but you have to believe me! I’m real.” When Snorpy gave him a monotonous look he continued. “Remember all the memories we have? The time where we went on holiday? Just by ourselves, too. I think it was one of the few times away from everyone else we had. You got scared of the sea and one of the crabs bit your paw. Remember?” He gave him a weak smile as though he was hoping these absurd words would somehow get to Snorpy.
Snorpy responded by giving him a blank look. It seemed enough of a response for him, because he left, footsteps thumping against the soft carpet of the hallway. When they stopped, Snorpy breathed a sigh of relief, readjusting some of the papers on the wall. To his dismay, the grumpus came back just as quickly as he’d left, picture frame in hand. He immediately gave it to Snorpy.
There was a photograph in it. Looking closer at it, he saw that it looked like perhaps the grumpus was correct. Two grumpuses, (presumably) himself and the other were standing at the oceanfront. They both stood next to one another, arms resting around each other’s shoulders. A yellow grumpus and a lime green grumpus. The yellow grumpus had a forced smile, and his gaze was focused more on the crab claw clenching his ankle, and the other had a wide smile that visibly bit back an uproar of laughter.
“This doesn’t mean anything. That could be anyone.”
“Snorpy, come with me, alright? I can show you more memories. More moments. I can show you I’m real.”
Something in Snorpy’s mind seemed to try to consider the gesture, but he shoved it down and steeled himself. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“They’re still out there. Waiting.” He suppressed a shiver.
“And if they’re waiting, I’ll protect you. I always will. Promise.”
“How do I know you won’t hurt me?”
“Snorpy… why would I ever hurt you?”
Snorpy looked away from him, looking at the wall. “They say you aren’t who you say you are.”
“But- Who’s they?”
“Them! Don’t you see them?” Snorpy shouted, and pointed at the wall frantically.
Chandlo took a long look at the wall. He saw the numerous papers, pins, and string stuck on it in a hurry, and the pale green wallpaper which.. honestly needed a recoat.. making occasional appearances in small gaps between papers.
But telling Snorpy that that was all he saw would break the trust he'd built up thus far. Lacklustre trust, but trust nonetheless.
So, he went along with it. Chandlo didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to be looking out for, but from the words he’d managed to exchange with Snorpy, he had a vague idea what to say.
“Don't worry, Snorpy. I… I see them.”
Snorpy’s eyes snapped to meet Chandlo's. The surprise in his gaze was palpable, and for a moment, Chandlo could've sworn he saw a glimmer of belief in his eyes before it dissolved into uncertainty.
“You see them too?” Snorpy whispered, hope flickering in his voice.
“Yes, Snorpy, I see them. They’re everywhere. We need to stay strong together.” Chandlo tried to keep his voice as steady as he could, to stay strong.
Snorpy looked at him with a mix of shock and gratitude, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “You really see them?”
“Yeah, I see them, dawg. They’re all around us. But as long as we stick together, we can keep them at bay,” Grump, he hated lying like this. It felt so alien, so wrong, but if it was his only hope of helping Snorpy, then so be it.
Snorpy studied him for a long moment, until eventually a tentative smile began to form on his face. “Thank you. Thank you for… understanding. I thought I was going to go mad alone in here.”
“You’re not alone anymore, bro. We’re in this together now.” Chandlo took a step closer and held out his paw.
The air in the room seemed to hang heavy with the weight of unspoken fear and doubt. But as Snorpy took his paw, the tension began to ease slightly. And he nodded, his eyes flicking towards the wall of eyes that Chandlo supposed he perceived as truly present.
"Come on, Snorpy," Chandlo said gently. "Let's go to our room. If we wanna be at our strongest, then we gotta be well-rested first, right?"
Snorpy nodded and allowed Chandlo to lead him down the corridor. Chandlo looked at him with a proud smile on his face, but his smile fell when he saw Snorpy watching the walls of the conspiracy room with his brow furrowed. "Won't they get us?"
"I don't know. Have they ever followed you out of that room?"
"Not exactly... It feels like they do, though.” He seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat (albeit a long, concerned heartbeat). “But I never see them."
"Well, that means we can trap them in there for now, right?"
"Right," Snorpy agreed in a tone that sounded far too much like he didn’t really agree. He briefly let go of Chandlo’s paw to quickly close the door after a final glance at the room. When the door clicked shut, he inhaled deeply and again took Chandlo's still-outstretched paw; this time he seemed to flee to it like a lifeline in open water, and grasped it tenaciously to keep himself from drowning.
Chandlo squeezed his paw, reassurance that he was there to keep him afloat, as he walked with Snorpy into their bedroom. The room had what he hoped would be a calming simplicity compared to the scatterbrained havoc of Snorpy’s conspiracy room. A double bed was pushed against the far wall, and on either side was each of their designated bedside tables, both with a small lamp stood on top of them. Framed photos of them and their friends were dotted around on walls and surfaces. Above the headboard of the bed was a window, where the moon cast its soft rays in refracted lines through the panes, painting gentle streaks of illuminating silver across the space.
Once they were inside, Chandlo turned to Snorpy. "Look,” he said as softly as he could, “I know you're scared, but trust me, alright?"
Snorpy nodded, though his eyes searched Chandlo's as if he was looking for familiarity in a face he didn’t quite recognise or trust. "I'll try," he murmured, his voice barely above a fragile whisper.
They climbed into the bed one after the other, and the mattress creaked quietly beneath their weight. Chandlo pulled the covers over them, ensuring Snorpy was comfortably and securely wrapped up, before pulling him in close. "They won't get you here," he promised, his voice firm but soothing. "I swear. I'll never let them."
Snorpy took a deep breath, and Chandlo felt his shuddering exhale rustle the fur atop his head. He hadn’t let Chandlo this close to him in weeks. Whatever this was had consumed his every waking moment, and it shattered him seeing how paranoid and exhausted it left him; evidently, that exhaustion was at last catching up to him, as now his breaths evened out and became deeper, as if the arms of unconsciousness were already beginning to enclose on him.
"You're really here," Snorpy murmured sleepily, nuzzling closer to Chandlo.
"Always," Chandlo assured him, gently stroking the fur covering his back (and trying not to focus too much on how tangled and unkempt it had gotten). "Just try and get some rest. We'll tackle this together, I promise."
Snorpy's breathing grew deeper still, and his eyes fluttered shut. The tension in his body gradually eased, and within moments, his frame had gone slack. Chandlo watched over him, his own eyelids growing heavy. He was tired, too, tired from the heavy burden he'd taken upon himself to help his boyfriend. But in spite of all that, he was calmed by the rhythmic sound of Snorpy's breathing. It was a familiar rhythm, one that had lulled him to sleep many times before whenever he was up thinking.
Chandlo buried his muzzle in Snorpy's chest, whispering a final reassurance. "It's okay. We're in this together." He felt Snorpy's body collapse even further against him, and knew that he had finally fallen asleep. With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes too, letting the weight of the day's events pull him under. The back of his mind raced with thoughts of how they’d handle the morning, but the forefront disregarded them and focused instead on the comfort of their shared warmth beneath the covers.