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C R A S H
Theudofrid the Transmutator, a baron of the court of House Siegmund, was having another tantrum, raving around in his lab after a visit from a fellow lord, the brutish Venator. The oafish madman had shown up uninvited, knocked various wet specimen jars over with his hulking form and ratty fur cape, and he’d tracked in mud from his latest hunt. Theud wasn’t partial to cleanliness, but he’d made a point of mopping that day, and to have his work ruined by such an odious guest was enough to make his blood boil. He raged about his lab, screaming at caged ravagers and punching feed bags until, in a moment of lucidity, he noticed his vexes were all gone. Distracted from his anger, he started looking around for them, shaking the soreness out from his fists. He must've startled them, the nasty little things, but the door to his laboratory was shut. They didn't get out, they couldn't have. Where were they? As he felt his confusion turning again to irritation, he heard a high, impish giggle, stopping him in his tracks. He turned his head, looking all around, feeling toyed with. With a predatory grumble, he slunk about his lab, checking every little nook and cranny he could think of before straightening, deeply annoyed. He started tiptoeing around and kept his head on a swivel, hoping to catch any sudden flashes of silvery wings. "Aaaaalright you little mutantsch, you've won the game! Come out, come out wherever you aaare..." Nothing answered him back- the grotesque ravagers had been scared into silence, and they all watched him from the backs of their dirty cells, staring with wide, haunted eyes. Theud sneered at them as he continued to scan the lab for any signs of his vexes. “...I’m schorry I scared you, babiesch. You know how that schtinking ape getsh on my nervezhe… if you come out now, I’ll give you a schweetie…” A single giggle, echoing slightly, tittered in from an unidentifiable corner of the dingey room. He checked the ceiling; the vents were closed, so they weren't in the ducts. "......Daddy'sh shtarting to get very upshet, prettiezhe... you know I don't like punishing you, but-" Just then, two of the missing vexes zipped onto his shoulders, and as they began nuzzling into his cold, scarred cheeks and whispering the remnants of his ideations of colleague murder, he caught the third one scrambling out from the viewing slat of the most reinforced cell, the one that held his player. Relieved, he sighed a bit, smiling; he would wrinkle his nose with glee if he only could. "Harr... payin' the new girl a little vizhit? Aren't you shweet..." Theud sauntered over to the great iron door and peered in with a sick little grin, squinting at the dark. "Where are you, you little shcampsh..." One of the three vexes on him suddenly slipped back into the holding cell and fluttered around, landing on a shadow that seemed farther away at first glance. Then, the shadow stood, and in the meager light coming through the door, Theud beheld the back of the player's head and shoulders, and he saw that they were covered in his missing vexes. He stood firm, but he wasn't expecting such odd behavior from either construct type. What are the little blighters up to, he thought to himself. Then, the vexes began to whisper.
“Angry man. Angry Daddy." "Jumping like the frogs." "Angry at the man." "Angry. Angry like the goat." "Angry." "Angry." "Angry." The seven vexes clinging to the player all whispered in unison. "Stupid." The little flock hissed and snickered in delight, crawling around their ominous perch. Another vex flew away from Theud and joined its brethren, finding its place at the top of the player's head. As soon as it settled, curling up like a cat, the player moved slightly, forcing the little thing to grab onto their hair in a panic. The player turned their head a bit. Theud watched. "......I know, now." The vexes moved when the player spoke, crawling around like hornets crowding over their hive and hissing 'angry', 'stupid', and 'nothingman'. Theud grimaced, not wanting to deal with more aggravation. "Ah, shuddap. You don't know a damn thing. That'sh why you're in there and I'm out here." "Both.." "...what? Turn around." The thing didn't listen, but it kept talking. "Both... in here..... you're in here too." "Well aren't you shmart," grumbled the demented doctor, patting himself down for his cell keys. "Sure are shmart!" He tried to adopt a more familiar tone, hoping to trick himself into a more cheerful state of mind, but his poor mood turned the sweet, higher voice into a mocking one. "We'll just schee how shmart you are when I get in there, huh? Schee what other shmart shit I can make you schay." Not feeling his keys on his person, he grimaced and started casing his lab. "You don't know jack shit. All you can do izhe schit, schleep, eat and schcream." He got down on one knee and checked under a blood-stained chest of drawers. "Don't care how pretty you are. Not all jewelry boxesh have pretty thingsh in ‘em. Shome are empty. Empty like that fuzhey head of yourzhe." Upon standing, he heard the familiar jingle of his keyring. When he looked around, his eyes landed on the door of the holding cell, and he felt bile rising in his throat. The fucking thing was holding the keys.
Theud stood and clenched his jaw, feeling his teeth creak and his chest tighten. The player's hand held still. The doctor's last vex suddenly sat up and stared, then launched from its perch on his shoulder, and a wave of relief washed over the illager. His little angel would snatch the keys up, he'd get in there and get his hands on the mouthy little minx, then- then the vex completely ignored the keys and flew into the cell, joining the flock of eight. Theud had to swallow to keep himself from vomiting out of pure fury. Quickly, he took up whatever was next to him that looked throwable, which was a grimy specimen jar, and hummed it at the door with all of his might. The player's hand disappeared back into the cell as soon as they hear Theud's clothes brushing around, but even if they'd stayed put, his anger had skewed his aim, and the jar exploded on the door handle, sending a spray of broken glass twinkling all over the floor. The transmutator was already charging the door before the last shard fell, violently shaking the locked door by the handle as glass crunched under his sliding feet. "You bitch, you BITCH, GIVE EM BACK!! YOU FUCKIN' THING, YOU'LL LOZHE EM AND THEN YOU'LL FUCK EVERYTHING!!!" He backed away suddenly and tried kicking the door down, but after a few heavy blows, the pain in his foot and knee grounded him again, and he staggered forward, huffing and snarling like the beast he was as he leaned against the metal cell door. "Hyouhh... ya better gimme thozhe fucking keyzhe," he growled through clenched teeth, shaking his head. "You ain't gonna like what happensh if I have to come in'ere and gettem myshelf." The testificate once again rattled the door by the handle, slamming it against the heavy deadbolt. He knew it would never budge, but the physical action was helping him process his rage. "Gimme the keysh. I'm not fuckin' playin’ with you.”
As Theud caught his breath, he focused again on the darkness within the cage. His huffing form blocked and unblocked the slivers of light filtering into the cold, damp little cell, but with every huff, the light caught the player moving closer and closer, with the glow of their eyes slowly moving across the room. A sleeve. An arm. A shoulder. Vexes. Finally, Theud, incensed by the theatrics, took a lantern down from the wall and held it up by his head. There, just out of reach, was the player, covered in crawling, whispering, hissing, grinning vexes. That wasn't what made his hair stand on end, though. The real disturbing sight was the player’s grin. Their perfect teeth flashed in the flickering orange light of the lantern, wetted with spit and blood. Their cheeks puffed and bunched up as the grin grew, dimpling adorably, as soft and pinchable as a baby's smiling face. Their nose flared appropriately, bending up at the nostrils to accommodate the rest of the face's tension. If he were in a better mood, Theud would have giggled and written down everything he was seeing, cooing to the player before musing on skinning them to find exactly which muscles were giving them their dimples. What ruined the chance at lording his own disquieting dominance over the player, beyond his current temper, was their eyes. Theud had spent a lot of time studying anatomy. It fascinated him endlessly. The variations in shades of kidneys, how things twitched and why, what happened to a bone if you set it incorrectly after breaking it- the natural world was his studio, and the bodies that came from it were his clay. With his expertise came extensive knowledge of the full span of emotions and what a body could do to convey them to other bodies. When living things were happy, they laughed. When they were sad, they cried. When they were afraid, they screamed. He relished in his research on fear above all else. He likened his process to aging wine- he would upset his subjects with his comments, cheerfully threatening them with pain, torture, affection, all to get a rise out of them. It was fun for him, too, of course- there's nothing wrong with enjoying your work. Gradually, he would escalate his behavior; making good on threats, taking 'privileges' away, then, after giving them back, taking body parts instead. He whittled away at the courage and stability of his ‘pets’, prodding and punishing, frightening them until they were left bare and snivelling, screaming at even the feeling of a gentle breeze on their raw, stitched skin. Such was his dedication to his work; he knew no greater pleasure than acquiring toys and breaking them beyond repair. This was why he knew. Theud locked eyes with the player, his sparse brows rising in shock and disbelief. The unwrinkled bridge of their nose, the easy squint, the relaxed position of their brows, and most damning of all, the clear, tearless gaze of the eyes themselves, steady and unblinking and glowing with glee. They were happy. They were happy, and they weren't scared of him. The smiling thing’s teeth parted, and from the blackness of their mouth came their croaking, rasping voice, burbling out of them with a strange, lilting cadence, making them sound like a brave little frog as they began to speak. “I know. I see you now.” The nine little vexes backed them up like a choir. “See you.” “See you, Daddy.” “See you, nothingman.” “Stupid, see you stupid now.” “Stupid Daddy.” The player blinked, then spoke again. “You’re just an angry man. Nothing but angry, and it makes you stupid.” Theud stood frozen. He wanted to break the door down. He wanted to tackle the brat to the ground. He wanted to feel their neck break in his hands- and the vexes betrayed him again. “He wants. He wants.” “It’s all he wants.” “He wants it all.” “But he can’t have it.” “No, can’t have it! “ “Only what he gets!!“
The vile little monsters all giggled together and began crawling up to nuzzle the player’s cheeks, tucking up under their chin and licking away the dried blood from their face and scalp. The player’s glowing eyes continued menacing the gobsmacked Theud from the dark cell, and their teeth flashed in the light again. “You can’t have anything. All you do is ruin, because you are ruined. It’s all you do because it’s all you have.” “Shut up…” muttered Theud, too stunned by the sudden cheek of his latest lab rat to give a real, measured response. “Shut up. Shut up,” echoed the player, their grin widening, and before Theud could prepare himself for it, they began to laugh. Haw, haw, haw, they croaked, laughing like a rod being rubbed against ridged wood, their dry throat rubbing into itself and grating against the Transmutator’s ears. “Haw haw haw, stupid man, you can’t do anything different. I’ll die, and die, and die, but all you can do is kill me. You’re nothing to me. You aren’t even worth your own name- by you having it, it was stolen from someone who deserved it more than you.” The illager balled his fists up so tightly, he felt his palms splitting under his sharp, dirty fingernails. The lantern rattled in his grasp. The player lowered its head slightly, eyeing Theud with its dark, sick little face. “You’re in here with me. We don’t belong here.” That was when he broke from the trance. The player had a knife thrown into their eye faster than they could blink, and they slowly fell backwards, landing squarely on their back. The vexes all screeched and fluttered about the cell, upset at the loss of their perch. Theud, huffing, went to look for a hooked pole to retrieve his keyring with. He had to remember to blink. He had to forget the words. He had to make them afraid again.