Chapter Text
Kenma opened his eyes slowly as if waking up from a long dream only to find that he was walking down the middle of the street late at night. His mind felt slightly muddled as a strange sense of anxiety sparked in the deepest parts of his mind. It was just the quiet eeriness of the dark that made him paranoid, he convinced himself as he adjusted his scarf around his neck to fit more comfortably around the appendage. He couldn't remember when he received the scarf, other than the fact that he knew he was very young, but he knew it was important to him. It was cold, crisp autumn nights like these that the unknown scarf he held dear came in handy.
As Kenma continued his journey down the road he saw something move in the corner of his eye. Whipping his head around he saw a little boy hiding, albeit very poorly, behind a tree and carefully watching him. He didn’t look very old, six or seven tops, so what was he doing out so late at night? If it weren’t for the time he would have guessed the other was lost but another thought made him believe he had run away from home considering how well he was dressed. Hesitantly, as not to startle the young child, he takes slow steps towards the other side of the street as the boy watches him closely, clinging to the bark of the tree as if for reassurance.
“Hey,” Kenma greets, “Are you alright?” He reluctantly comes out from his hiding place behind the tree and takes a wary step forward under the light that the streetlamp above them casts. The young boy looks the older male up and down. Deciding he was harmless and could be trusted he nods slowly before speaking in a soft, shy voice,
“I’m scared.” He says, holding his hands against his chest to keep them warm as the wind suddenly blows, sending a shiver down his spine. Kenma purses his lips into a firm line, fairly certain the latter had run away from home. Should that be the case his parents must be worried sick about him.
“What’s wrong? Are you lost?” The bleached blonde looks around to see if he could identify in what direction the boy had come from. He’s silent for another few moments as if recollecting his thoughts before speaking,
“I want to go home.” The child stares down at the rough, cracked asphalt of the street with his bottom lip quivering. Whether it be from the cold or how shaken up he was, Kenma didn’t know.
“Do you know where your house is?” He asks, wondering if he would need to turn the child into the police if worst came to worst. He continues to remain silent for another few moments. It’s his speech pattern or he’s nervous, maybe both, he thinks.
“Yes,” He responds finally and Kenma lets out a sigh of relief. Taking several steps down the street he points in front of him to show the other the direction of his house, “It’s this way.” He turns back around to face the other.
“I can take you home if you want,” He offers and the child remains silent, “Don’t you want to go home?”
“Okay.” The younger boy nods, fumbling with his fingers slightly. Kenma begins to walk down the street only to find that the boy isn’t following him. He turns around and sees that he’s still just standing there.
“What’s wrong?” He questions, walking up towards him once again.
“Cold.” He whispers and shivers as the wind picks up again and blows against his small frame.
“Oh,” Kenma lets out a sigh, “Here, take my scarf.” He urges as he pulls his scarf from his neck and wraps it around the little boy’s neck, “Better?”
“Too tight.” He complains monotonously. If he had known any better he would have assumed the child was being sarcastic.
“Oh, sorry.” Kenma murmurs an apology as he loosens the scarf around the little boy’s neck.
“It’s okay,” He hums, “It wasn’t your fault.”
It wasn’t your fault.
“Better?” He asks as he finishes adjusting it.
“Warm!” The boy cracks a soft smile as he nuzzles into the scarf comfortably.
“Good,” Kenma returns the smile, “By the way, what’s your name?” As usual, the boy is silent for a short period of time as if he has to think, even about his own name, before answering,
“It’s Cat.”
“Nice to meet you, Cat. Let’s take you home.” The child nods at his statement and they both begin to walk further down the road. They venture off towards the side of the road as a small, blue vehicle rips down the road, the front lights of the car nearly blinding them both but not quite.
A very large house, almost mistakably a mansion, turns up first to the right of the street as the pair walked for quite a bit. Kenma stops in front of the large house and turns to the boy named Cat,
“Is this your house?” He asks, looking down at the boy expectantly.
“Yes, here is fine.” Cat nods and begins to walk towards his home. “Goodbye!” He stops in his tracks before turning back to the other, “...Um, thank you!” The iron gates suddenly open as if they were expecting the boy to approach and he quickly runs inside the mansion, leaving Kenma behind.
“Hey, wait! My scarf!” Kenma shouts and outstretches his hand to him but it’s too late as the front door opens and slams shut. He’s silent for a few moments, “I can’t lose that scarf…” He mumbles to himself as he rubs his throat where his scarf used to lay.
Walking past the gates and to the front porch, the bleached blonde notices the wooden door remains slightly ajar despite Cat obviously slamming it shut. Thinking nothing of it, he enters the home.
“Cat?” He calls out into the seemingly empty home and receives no response.
Curiously, he walks into the nearest room only to find a library with one shelf. There was a single book that didn’t seem glued to the book shelf nor covered in dust. The title on the bridge of the book read, “The Compiled Works Of William Shakespeare” and all the pages had been forcibly ripped out. Leaving the room and walking into the next he found the kitchen. The cupboards seemed to be sealed tight and the kitchen looked like it hadn’t been used in ages. Finding the two rooms to be similar he decided to look for the little boy elsewhere and made his way down the nearby staircase. The hallway was rather narrow for such a large house and it felt almost suffocating, causing Kenma to pick up his pace. When he came to the end of the hallway there was a wooden door to which he hastily opened and walked into the room. By the looks of it he could conclude that it was a basement.
“Cat? Are you in here?” He calls out only to have no answer. Frowning, he turns to leave again only to find that the door is suddenly locked. His heart stops in his chest and he turns around and keeps walking further into the basement.
Suddenly, the lights snap on and momentarily blind Kenma as he screws his eyes shut and waits for his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. When he reopens them he finds two people, boys, to be standing next to one another at the end of the room. One, was very short while the other was tall and lanky, both wearing stupid grins plastered across their face. They bared their teeth at him and somehow it didn’t seem friendly as he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“Look! Look! Look at that hag!” The short one squeals. If Kenma hadn’t known better he would have assumed he was a child. He had light brown hair and eyes to match.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” The taller one’s grin widens, stretching almost painfully across his cheeks. The lanky male had silver hair and piercing green eyes. He would have found them to be intimidating if they didn’t look so dull and lifeless.
“A guest! A guest!” The short boy chirps. If he listened closer, he could have sworn they both sounded monotonous.
“We must look out best. We’ve never had a guest before!” The tall ones chimes in despite they're both wearing rather filthy tuxedos and top hats. It was if they were buried beneath the soil.
“A sight for sore eyes, isn’t it?” The shorter male sighs.
“That’s a sore lie, isn’t it?” The other retorts, looking down on the short male.
“Isn’t it? Isn’t it?” He giggles, one of his eyes twitching uncontrollably.
“Who...are you?” Kenma reluctantly asks as he tenses due to their strange behavior.
“Don’t be so innocent.” The tall male says as if it’s a form of advice.
“Hear that? Heart that?” The shorter male presses a hand to his ears and closes his eyes.
“Weird, that.” The tallest nods, closing his eyes as well. Kenma furrows his brows at their display. He didn’t hear anything and he certainly didn’t want to spend another moment with these weirdos.
“Well, he never did meet us, did he?” The brunette frowns and stares pointedly at the bleached blonde.
“Did he? Did he? Precious, isn’t he?”
“Have you seen a little boy around?” Kenma asks, having enough of their strange charade and just wanted his scarf.
“Little boy? Little boy?” The shorter male’s eye continues to twitch.
“Aren’t you a little boy?” The one with jade hues questions as he places a thin, boney finger to his lip in thought. Kenma is silent for a few moments before forming a response,
“I want to leave.”
“He’d like to leave?” The short male nibbles on one of his finger nails.
“To leave? The nerve!” The taller scoffs but smiles despite this.
“The peeve! We’d grieve!” The brunette takes several steps closer to Kenma with his arms folded behind his back, grinning all the while.
Sighing, Kenma looks around the room for any possible exits only to find none other than the locked door. “Is there a way out?” He asks, half-heartedly hoping for a legitimate response.
“Out? Yes.” The taller one folds his arms across his broad chest and nods silently. The shorter one follows,
“Doubt? Yes.”
“A favor! I declare a favor!” The boy with silver hair beams, causing the other to become excited as well.
“A favor?” The brunette questions, smiling like a madman.
“Honor the favor and then he can leave.” The tallest nods.
“The nerve! The peeve!” The shortest scoffs. Kenma sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose but humors them.
“Okay. What’s the favor?”
“Our favor, he asks!” The tallest laughs almost condescendingly.
“Please, mister. It’s not a hard task.”
“This worthless mutt here,” He extends his long arm to the floor and points to the shaved bulldog laying lazily across the cold floor. Kenma gasps, not noticing its presence. “Can you tell me its name?”
“Hear, hear!” The shorter male pipes, laughing as he does so.
“Then you can leave.” The tallest nods as if confirming his own statement to be true.
“Leave us behind, how unkind!” The brunette sighs, pressing a hand to his forehead and mocking betrayal. Kenma looks back down at the dog. Were they sure it was a dog? It looked as though the dog had a morbidly angry face, resembling that of a baby’s wrinkled face when it cries horrendously.
Looking around the room, Kenma saw another door hiding at an odd angle within the corner where two walls meet. Hesitantly looking back at the strange pair, he pushes the heavy wooden door open and slowly walks down the stairs as the sound of his shoes hitting the concrete stairs echo throughout the basement. What he found at the end of the stairs appeared to be a miniature laboratory, if he had to take a guess. In front of him was a desk with an opened book and slightly messy handwriting. It appeared to be a diary and it read,
“May 18th, 1912
To be honest, I find their back gardens terrifying as it is fascinating. The creatures that lurk there can only be described as cunning and monstrous. And yet the plants that take root there...I never could have dreamed of them. The flora seem ordinary, but their properties are, I daresay, magical. For example, the extract of rose emanates warmth, even in the coldest conditions...”
The rest of the page appeared to be scribbled out.
Furrowing his brows in confusion, the bleached blonde looked up from the diary and peered across the nearby flasks, beakers and test tubes. Making his way over to the set, he noticed a red chemical filled with glass as well as a dead bird strung up to the ceiling by rusty wires. It had masking tape on it with faded marker that read, “Rose Extract.” Kenma’s eyes shifted over the empty test tubes and curiously pulled one out of its holder. Looking back over to the red chemical he picked up the flask and gently poured the fluids into a test tube.
‘Emanates warmth in the coldest conditions, huh?’ He thinks to himself skeptically and begins to make his way back up the stairs to question the duo about this along with the diary entry. Abruptly, he felt a flash of searing, white pain course through his skull. When a scream ripped from his throat and screwed his eyes shut he saw nothing but the heavy static creeping behind his eyelids, feeling as though pins and needles were pricking the back of his eyes as if threatening to blind him. When he opened them again, the sudden hallucination and immense pain was gone and he was gripping tightly onto the handrail as beads of sweat collected at his forehead and his chest heaved for air.
“F-Fuck…” His breath hitches in his throat before he lets out a shaky sighs and resumes climbing the stairs. He had to get his scarf and leave this house as soon as possible. When he sees the duo idly chit chatting, as if they didn’t hear him scream, he notices an ice sculpture of a swan that wasn’t in the room prior. Pursing his lips he slowly walked over to it and hesitantly poured the red chemical on it, causing it to melt almost instantly.
Kenma suddenly heard a click from somewhere and noticed another door placed oddly against the wall, across the room from the other. Turning the knob, he slowly made his descent down yet another set of staircases. This room seemed far more welcoming than the other. It had a large nutcracker, a projector, a film reel, and a bust of god knows who. Almost on reflex, the bleached blonde picks up the film reel and places it into the projector.
A movie began to play, one of those old black and white ones, as the male watched attentively. At the screen it showed a picture of the horrendous mutt from the previous room with the words, “Starring Faust the dog.”
‘So, that’s the mutt’s name.’ Kenma thinks as he watches the rest of the movie which just turns out to be the the duo and the mutt switching heads. When the film is done, the male spins on his heel to leave only to find the mutt carrying something in his mouth and practically glaring up at him. He places the object on the floor, an egg, and it naturally rolls towards his feet. Taking it, Kenma quirks a brow at it and the dog just gives a soft grunt before walking back upstairs, his nails scratching against the concrete. Since that was his intended destination as well, and he now knows the dog’s name, he follows.
“This worthless mutt here,” The tallest turns to Kenma as he enter the room and points at the mutt, “Can you tell me its name?”
Kenma swallows a lump in his throat and nods, “I can. It’s Faust.”
“Correct! Correct!” He sing-songs.
“Correct?” The smallest cocks his head to the side in confusion. “How?”
“Foul play, I suspect!” He sneers, looking down on Kenma despite knowing the truth.
“Must be, must be.” The brunette nods.
“Must be,” He nods as well, “Must we ask for another favor?”
“Must we? We must!”
“We mustn't hate him. Another favor will right the wrong!” He hums, opening one green eye to peer at Kenma’s look of discomfort and frustration.
“Favors for Favors!”
“Bring us the favorite food of the ram.” The tallest commands.
“Now scram!” The shortest threatens.
Upon recollecting his memory, Kenma did see the remains of a ram’s head nailed to the wall in the laboratory. Sighing, he makes his way to the other door and carefully walks down the stairs gripping the handrail should another hallucination surprise him. The last thing he wants is to take a tumble- especially in this house. Peering over the desk, he notices the pages from the diary have been forcibly torn out. It read,
“...The clover concentration sharpens the mind, allowing me to understand dead languages.”
The rest of the page appeared to be scribbled out.
Peering back over to the miniature laboratory set, Kenma takes hold of another test tube and takes hold of a beaker containing a green chemical, pouring its liquids into the empty test tube. The diary did say that it sharpened the mind. Did that mean he had to drink it? Letting out a defeated sigh, the bleached blonde pressed the test tube to his lips and swallowed just a few drops. Black splotches entered his field of vision for several moments before he noticed strange, red writing on the wall in front of him. It read,
“What does the ram see?”
Looking up at the ram skull hanging on the back wall of the room with its mouth chained and locked shut, Kenma thought.
‘What does the ram see? Well, it’s facing this side of the wall, so…?’ He thought, trying to put the pieces together. Tracing his fingers against the hard stone of the wall the ram was facing, he gasped lightly when the stone startled to crumble beneath his fingertips. The hole grew larger and before he knew it a large portion of the wall had crumbled, giving up the discrete hiding place of a secret room. In the room there was a table with nothing but a lonely peanut on the plate. Was this seriously the ram’s favorite food? Skeptical but with no other option, Kenma picked up the peanut and left the hidden room and began to make his way back up the stairs and to the odd duo who seemed so keen on requesting favors from him.
“So, have you brought the favorite food of the ram?” The tallest grins, extending his hand. The male nodded and showed him the peanut, causing both of their faces to turn sour. “Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong!”
“Now, move along!”
“W-What?” Kenma knits his eyebrows together in confusion. He stared at the peanut in his hand. How was he wrong? Defeated, he goes into the other room he found prior to this new favor they had asked, for more clues. Making his way down the stairs and turning a corner is when he notices the nutcracker and let’s out a soft “oh” of realization.
“I-Is that...a peanut? Oh, It looks so...juicy.” The nutcracker rasps, startling the poor boy as he stumbles several steps back. Hesitantly, Kenma places the peanut in the nutcracker's mouth. He downs it immediately and spits out a key at the boy as if a token of gratitude.
“Oh, uh...thanks.” Kenma sputters as he takes the key and quickly runs back up the stairs and to the next room, remembering the chained and locked mouth of the ram since it was unlikely it was for one of the doors. Running down the stairs two, and sometimes three at a time, Kenma quickly pivoted to the left and approached the ram skull hanging against the wall. Fumbling with the key, he unlocked the lock and removed the chains. As soon as he did, two conjoined hearts fell from the ram’s mouth.
Kenma was sure he was going to vomit on the spot as he felt bile rise up to his throat at the sight. Clenching his eyes shut, he hastily picked them up and tried not to pay to much attention on how the hearts felt in his hands as he made his way back upstairs to the duo. This had to be right, there was no way for him to be wrong this time.
“So, have you brought me the favorite food of the ram?” The tallest grins and extends his hand. The blood drains from his face as he nervously hands over the conjoined hearts. He’s silent for a moment, expressionless before his usual grin curls onto his lips. “Correct! The Ram loves to devour human hearts!”
“Correct? Correct? Impossible! Implausible!” The shortest huffs, crossing his arms across his chest stubbornly.
“You couldn’t have known!” The male with silver hair defends.
“You couldn’t have known.” The brunette nods, agreeing with the other.
You couldn’t have known.
“How? How, how, how, how, how?”
“Now, Now,” The shortest cuts the other off before he loses his temper, “We’ll allow it.”
“But, but…” He stammers, clearly frustrated.
“But...favors for favors!” The shortest chimes.
“Favors for favors!” The tallest joins in.
“That means you still owe us one more favor!” The shorter male says, resting his hands on his hips.
“One more favor!” The tallest seems to have gained his cheerful yet eerie mood back, “Sing us the perfect song with the perfect voice!”
“A song! A song! With the voice of a choice!”
Kenma’s mind drifts off the the last chemical left in the basement. He lets out an annoyed sigh and makes his way back down to the miniature laboratory for what feels like the millionth time. Out of habit, he peers over the table to find the diary’s pages are once again forcibly ripped out, displaying new contents,
“...And the essence of violet even returns dead creatures to life! I plan to leave this place with ample samples immediately. That woman is queer enough, truth be told it’s her demented child that frightens me most.”
The rest of the page appeared to be scribbled out.
Grabbing the last test tube, Kenma takes hold of the last chemical and spills it on the dead bird that hangs from the ceiling over the red chemical. Its eyes open and wings begin to flap fervently, knocking several things over ultimately before flying out of the room. He follows it, climbing up the stairs and bursting through the door. He could feel his heart drop as the same white, blinding pain coursed through his body. When he closed his eyes he saw a crib rocking back and forth as well as the same static eating away at his sanity. It’s gone the moment it started and it feels as though the experience alone has drained the male of all his energy. Shaking his head of his delirious state, he stands back up from when he had apparently fallen to his knees and follows the bird into the room across the basement.
Descending down the stairs, Kenma noticed the nutcracker was not in the same placed as he had been before. Setting his lip into a firm line, he peeked behind the nutcracker to find another hidden room. Entering it, he found the bird resting on a piano that seemed to be playing by itself. Suddenly, the piano stopped and the bird repeated the note’s the piano had been playing only moments prior.
‘The bird learned the song?’ Realizing this was what they meant by the perfect tune, the boy extended his hand out the bird to which it carefully climbed into his palm and rested comfortably.
Going back to the two, Kenma let the bird fly around the room.
“Can you? Can you sing us the perfect song with the perfect voice?” The tallest nearly mocks. Kenma nods and the bird begins singing the same tune it had learned from the piano.
The smallest male sniffles slightly at the tune, “It’s perfect! Perfect!” Without hesitation he pulls out a gun and shoots the bird, killing it on the spot.
“Dead things should stay dead, shouldn’t they?” The tallest sneers, staring at the bird’s corpse with contempt as Kenma looks at it with wide, frightened eyes.
“Shouldn’t they? Shouldn’t they?” The shortest snickers, throwing the gun away.
“Couldn't they? Wouldn’t they?” The male with silver hair giggles childishly and the other joins in as well. “Well,” He speaks up again, “You won! You won! But didn’t we have a blast?”
“Yeah!” The short male chimes in, “Why leave so fast?”
“So soon?” The other twists his head at an odd angle Kenma was sure his neck would break under normal circumstances.
“After that wonderful tune?”
“Say,” The tall man pushes his head further into the odd angle but continues speaking as if nothing was wrong, “Why don’t you stay awhile?”
“Awhile! Awhile!”
“We think you’re swell.”
“You’re so swell, we can tell!”
“Well? Well?”
Kenma doesn’t even have to think about his answer, “No.” The two pause for a moment as if not expecting such a quick answer.
“No? No?” The shortest frowns, staring at the floor.
“Do you really have to go?” The male with dull, green eyes frowns as well but maintains eye contact with Kenma.
“That blows.” The short male kicks the ground with a huff. They’re both silent for a good few moments for once before the tallest sighs and speaks up,
“Well, we promised, didn’t we?”
“We did, didn’t we?” The other matches its counterpart’s tone and sounds defeated as well, though it's a bit forced.
“You will be missed.” They’re both silent again and for once they look as though they’re seeing a friend off they won’t see for awhile if ever.
“The door to the outside…” The brunette speaks up after quite some time.
“It’s open.”
“You can leave if you want.” The short male says as if Kenma actually wants to stay here, which he doesn’t.
“If you want…” The tallest nods and stares at the door Kenma had entered through to get to the basement. They continue to remain silent as they watch him turn and leave without a second thought.
Now back in the narrow hallway, which seemed more comfortable than the basement now, the bleached blonde began his departure back up the stairs and to the first floor from where he came. Though the hallway he first came through wasn’t familiar to him at all. There were holes seeping through the wood of the floor and if he didn’t watch his step he was sure he would fall through.
Once again, the static was beneath his eyelids once more although it didn’t quite hurt like the last few times. In fact, it didn’t hurt at all. Seeing something at the end of the narrow hallway, Kenma paled as he felt his blood run cold. There was an empty cradle and above it was a fetus, hardly developed, hanging from the ceiling with a nose around its neck. It struggled, rasping for oxygen as it choked out hateful words,
“Why…! Why did you leave us?! No one ever gave us a chance! Why did you leave us? We never got a chance to live! Why? Why? Why?”
“W-What…?”
“It’s your fault, you know. Why did you leave us? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?!” It screeched as it struggled even harder ultimately before snapping its own neck on the noose. Kenma screeched in horror and ran to the entrance of the basement where he had once entered, a fire punching his lungs causing them to sting as it begged for oxygen and to rest
As he pushed the door to the basement open he heard parting words from seemingly no source,
“Don’t forget me. Even if you don’t like me any more. Please, don’t forget me.”
Before his eyes as he tried his best to catch his breath, Kenma saw a familiar boy wearing his scarf.
“Cat!” He stammered as he scrambled to his feet.
“They didn’t like me anymore…” He says quietly, not facing him. “Mommy was expecting them soon. The twins. So Mommy and Tetsurou didn’t need me anymore. So I left. That’s why the twins are mad.”
“Cat?” He knits his brows together, confused but listens nonetheless.
“The twins...Mommy and Tetsurou...they all died. I killed them.” He says quietly, his voice wavering ultimately before walking away.