Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A cold, sticky rag was gripped in one hand, scrubbing the countertop where a customer left their unfinished plates. The smell of syrup and bacon permeated the whole building as a few families and customers were strewn in different booths. Children’s excited squeals can be heard by the family near the window, and I had the honor of watching said child spill syrup onto the table, a mess I would have to clean up after. Autumn was creeping closer every day, blanketing our town with cool air and yellowing leaves. Even now, I dawned a hoodie under my apron. The sleeves are rolled up to my elbows, hoping to prevent the sugary sweet syrup from coating them.

A soft sigh of defeat leaves me as I inspect the counter I was wiping. Sure enough, there was still a light film of syrup that stubbornly clung to the metal table, forcing me to clean my rag and try again. Forks and knives lightly clinked on the porcelain plates as I made my rounds, checking in on every table with a small smile.

What many do not tell you about working food service is how sick you start to feel after smelling the same dishes over and over. While many cheer and salivate over a fresh plate of pancakes, I hold back my grimace as I carry the warm plate to their table. Though, I make a quick exit once they start drenching the plate in a thick coat of sugary sweet syrup. I can feel my teeth ache just at the thought of it.

Yet here I am, checking in on a table of four. Each wore a thick jacket or pullover and scoffed down their food, save for a girl with pitch black, shaggy hair who absentmindedly pushed tatter tots around their plate with a fork. One of them, with a bandage patched to the side of their face, took great joy in practically drinking the syrup. I had to bring them a new bottle, that he would soon empty out.

“Everything tastes alright?” I inquired with my customer service smile. The man with the yellow hoodie casted me a polite smile and a nod. I filled their mugs full of another round of coffee before taking away any empty plates. “Well, call me over if you lot need anything else,” I dropped off another stack of napkins for their syrup-drinking friend before excusing myself to check on the rest of the tables.

Time ticked by without much trouble. Many tables have paid their bills and gone about their day as I was left to clean up the endless, sticky mess. While cleaning, I noticed a brown hoodie, the sleeves were striped, and it had an earthy musk to it, like the owner was rolling around in dirt. An annoyed frown tugged at the corner of my lip as I tucked it under my arm to continue cleaning. I brought the heavy tray piled with dirty dishes to the kitchen and left it with the dishwasher, who seemed to get through his shift by blasting music on a nearby radio. If only I could do the same, but my manager had something against using earphones at work. This means I was subjugated to radio music that hardly suited my tastes.  With much reluctance, I forced myself out of the kitchen and back to my station at the counter where I neatly folded the abandoned hoodie. I’m sure the owner would come back for it. If I’m not mistaken, it was the guy drinking all the syrup…

On second thought, maybe it’s better if he didn’t come back for it…

While tucking the hoodie into a drawer, something slipped out and flitted to the floor. Better put it back. I knelt to pick up the fallen paper only to notice that it was a photo.

I flipped the photo over between my fingers and glanced at the image. It was dark for the most part with a streak of red smeared on the floor. My eyebrows scrunched as I gave it another once-over, maybe I saw it wrong. There wasn’t much to go off of. Whoever took the picture had unsteady hands, but it was clear enough to depict the tiled floor, dark hallway, and mystery smear.

‘Maybe it’s just paint,’ I thought as I moved to tuck the photo back into one of the hoodie’s pockets but froze when I saw a small stack of photos that had settled in the pocket. Curiosity gnawed at me, but I know better than to rifle through a customer’s personal belongings. I peered up from the counter and made sure no one was looking at me, and with great reluctance, I left it alone.

As my shift ticked by, I could feel the curiosity chip away at my resolve every time I pass the counter. Even when my hands were piled high with food, dirty dishes and coated in sticky syrup, my mind drifted to the mysterious photo collection. Part of me hoped that he would come back before my curiosity won, but as the minutes ticked away, the other part of me could feel the temptation beckoning me to look.

I dropped off my table’s dishes before skirting back to the counter, glaring at drawer that housed the hoodie. I know it’s wrong to look. I know it’s not my place either, but why is the hoodie already in my hands-

I glanced around again, making sure the coast was clear before peering into the pocket and slipping out the small stack of photos. My mouth felt dry as I looked at the first image. A body, strewn on the floor, covered in long gashes. Red pooled around the disfigured body, pale even in the dim lighting. My nerves pricked at the back of my neck. I felt like I was being watched, like I was caught doing something illegal. These photos have to be incriminating right? There’s no way someone would have such morbid photos on their person as a prop, right? Unless they had a twisted sense of artistic interpretation.  Anxiety started to claw at my chest, my heart picking up its pace. There’s no way that syrup-drinking, pancake-fiend is a murder… right?

I’ve only seen two photos from this whole stack, and I dreaded to know what the rest of the photos contained. But at this point, I don’t know if it’s the images or the syrup that made me queasy, but I pressed on and forced myself to move to the next image…

Oh, how I wish to clock out right now. I could be enjoying tea at the library, doom scrolling on my phone, or even cooking dinner. But no, I’m at work holding a picture of a severed hand. While everyone around me continued their day without a care in the world, I could very well be holding evidence of someone’s murder case. The syrup, it’s definitely the syrup making me gag. My hands shook as I tore my eyes from the image and shoved it all back into the pocket.

No, no more. I can’t get involved… But what if someone is dead and the police have no idea? What if they come back for the hoodie and know I went through their belongings? What if I become their next- No… I’m not going to think about that. I hurriedly stuffed the hoodie back into the drawer and let out a shaky breath, trying to calm myself down. I’m sure my face was pale with how much I was trembling. Everything else faded into the background, sound muffled, lights dimmed. I could feel the walls closing in on me. Despite the afternoon sun shining through the large glass panes, the world looked dimmer. My hands gripped the countertop, hoping to ground myself, but even the cold surface couldn’t pull me back.

At this point, I’ve started bargaining. The owner won’t know that I know, right? I could feign ignorance and hand him back his stupid jacket with a stupid, oblivious smile. Photos? What photos? I’ve been busy running orders. I took a hopefully glance around the small dinner only to notice that the customers have long since filed out… Damn. Not only are my alibi gone, but they left a mountain of sticky plates at their tables.

I should busy myself, yeah… Make it look like I’ve been so busy that I never had time to check his hoodie. I could sweep the floor, heavens know it needs a good sweep. Is that a finger smudge on the windows? I can make them sparkling and clean! Yeah… Yeah this can work-

The bell chimes.

I slowly lifted my head up towards the door, feeling a sudden chill run down my back. This has to be some sick joke. There he stood, orange goggles now perched on the top of his head as he picked at the bandage on his cheek. We stared at each other for a moment, both parties staring each other down with unyielding eyes. Only when his neck snapped to the side with a painful click did our starring contest end. A curse escapes his lips at the sudden movement, but he himself did not appear to be in any pain.

I scrounged up what courage I had left and plastered a smile on my face, my fingers gripping the countertop tighter.

“You left your jacket earlier, right?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Y-yeah- SHIT- just c-came to g-g-get it b- ACK- back,” he approached the counter, not even trying to hide his tics. I never noticed his tics when he was eating, but I guess he locked in so much in the pancakes that his body didn’t have time to react.

Standing before him now, I realized that I didn’t get a good look at him when his face was buried behind an absurd number of pancakes. His curly brown hair stuck up in odd angles all over his head, pale skin that almost looked grey, dark under eyes that framed his brown eyes, and a scruff of a beard that lined his jaw. With the way his body twitched, I wouldn’t trust him with a razor either. He looked every bit raccoon even without his striped hoodie. The dirt caked under his nails and rabid mannerisms only added to the description. Most of all, without the air of syrup engulfing him, I can smell the earth on him.

“O-Of course,” I continued to bare my teeth in a forced smile. With ridged hands, I opened the drawer that held his hoodie and carefully handed it to him, praying to what ever God will listen that the photos wouldn’t fall out.

Surprisingly, the exchange went well. His fingers brushed against mine as he jerked backwards, and I had to force myself not to flinch. I never thought years of customer service would ever save my life. Yet here I am, schooling my face and praying he doesn’t see the panic in my eyes.

“Th-Thanks,” he shrugged on his jacket and made his way back out the door. Only when the door swung shut behind him did I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

                No amount of ice teas can nurse the headache that plagued me for the rest of my shift. Even when I busied myself in cleaning the restaurant, the incessant ache did not go away. But there was no ignoring how on edge I felt the rest of the day, like eyes piercing into my skull no matter where I stood. I wiped my clammy hands on my apron after washing up. I was happy to rid myself of the stiff material. The clock ticked closer to 7pm and no customers were in sight. The kitchen staff have long since finished their closing tasks and all took turns hanging their aprons up.      

“Thanks for locking up, again,” the cook patted my shoulder firmly before slipping out the back door. I gave him a gruff nod as I watched him leave.

“Have a good night,” the dishwasher waved before following behind the cook. I waved both men off, watching as the last bit of company left. Maybe I should’ve asked one of them to stay. I tried passing it off as nerves, but the feeling of being watched wouldn’t go away. With how jumpy I’ve seen since the incident, it would probably be for the best that I was not left alone. With great reluctance, I locked the doors and sat in front of the register where I had to finish up my closing duties.

I sat in the silence of the restaurant, counting out the cash in the register and making sure all sales were correct. It was a tedious task, but one that needed to be done. I thumbed through the bills, using my phone’s calculator to make sure I added them up correctly. Next came the coins, which were a bigger pain to keep track of. Though, my efforts were always rewarded when I was able to take out the tips from the total sales. I put away the kitchen staff’s portion and pocketed mine.

After locking up everything one more time, I was free to go home! I stepped out into the cool Autumn air. It’s a fresh scent compared to the smells of the restaurant, and one I was always grateful for. But with the sun dipping dangerously low beneath the horizon, part of me debated sleeping in the restaurant for the night. I pulled my hood over my head and glanced around, finding no one looking at me. Only a few pedestrians roamed the street at this time, and they all seemed to mind their business. I wet my lips, trying to push the anxious thoughts away before starting towards my apartment.

I’m not the jumpy type, nor am I scared easily, but right now, I am close to pissing myself on the street. It started as a brisk walk, but that brisk walk quickly turned into a mild jog. It wasn’t long until that mild jog turned into a full-on sprint. I don’t want to think it was just my stupid imagination, but I can swear I heard footsteps behind me. But every time I looked back, there was no one there. Visible or not, I’m not ignoring my gut’s instincts to survive.

This may be a bad time to mention that I’m not the most fit. Sure, I exercise occasionally, but right now, my lungs are burning. If I stopped, nothing would stop me from coughing my lungs out. Sadly, self-preservation pushed me to keep going, to ignore the ache in my body.

Damn the clichés. Damn every horror movie trope that ever existed. And damn this stupid ledge I tripped on. Who let’s cracks in the sidewalk get that big? My jeans take the brunt of the concrete, but it won’t stop the bruises welting on my skin. I pushed up from the ground, hoping to get a second wind of air, but a weight fell on top of me, forcing me back to the ground and kissing the pavement.

“Got them,” the muffled voice above me calls out, presumably to his friends. His voice was gruff, and damn was this man heavy. It felt like I got tackled by a linebacker. He kept me pinned down easily, forcing my hands behind my back as more footsteps approached us. I swiveled my head as best as I could to look at my captors, but all I could see were the ends of their dusty jeans and scuffed shoes. But one noise gave it all away. The unmistakable tics and twitches of the owner of the photos.

His shoes scrapped against the pavement before ending just beside my head. His knees clicked as he crouched down to be in my line of sight. Orange goggles were now strapped against his eyes and a face mask akin to a muzzle covering the lower half of his face. But those tics were the same, along with the striped hoodie and smell of earth. He tilted his head at me, studying me through the bright tinted goggles, yet he didn’t say anything.

“Sorry to chase you down like this,” a steady voice speaks somewhere behind me, “but you saw something you weren’t supposed to. Isn’t that right?” He came closer.

Through the cloud of panic, I couldn’t find my voice. My lungs still burned, but with the added force on my back, I couldn’t speak. A deer caught in headlights is what came to mind. So, this is what they meant when your body betrays you and freezes up in times of need.

The ticking man in front of me reached into their pocket, one I knew held the stack of photos. A gloved hand slipped out, producing the first photo I ever held, with a damned smear of syrup at the edge, now layered with lint from his pockets.

“L-look familiar?” he stares down at me, the photo just inches from my eyes.

A fresh wave of panic courses through me as I thrashed against the strong man holding me down.

“I don’t know what that is,” I force out. “Please, it slipped out of your pocket, and I put it back. I swear,” I cried out. Was I lying to a potential group of killers? Yes. Was I going to admit to rifling through their belongings? Are you crazy? Who would admit that?

A tired sigh left the man behind me. “There is a chance they’re telling the truth.” He seemed to weigh his options.

“We can’t leave witnesses,” barked the man who held me to the ground. I felt my heart lurch at his words, worry pervading any other thoughts I had. There was only one implication of these words, and I did not like where this was going.

“You know what happens if we target someone not a part of the list,” the steady man hissed back. “The sickness is already spreading, and I can’t have you catching it too.” His words carried heaviness to it that caused everyone to still for a moment. Whatever this sickness was, it wasn’t some common flu.

“Please,” I writhed beneath the man, “I promise I won’t tell. I don’t know what’s going on,” I hated how feeble and weak my voice sounded, but when your life hung in the balance, I think ego is something I can afford to ignore for now.  All I wanted to do was go home and enjoy being alive, and right now, that seemed like a distant dream. Silence passed between them as they weighed out their options. Is it too hopeful to think they might not kill me in fear of this sickness?

“We could bring them to him,” a feminine, raspy voice chimed in. Her suggestion carried some animosity to the group who seemed to tense at her words.

“You think he’d take this mistake lightly?” the strong man speaks up.

“What else can we do?” she bites back, “I think Toby should take the fall. He is the one that messed up.”

The man crouched in front of me flinches, before casting a glare at her. “M-me? It’s n-not my fa-fault you wanted to-to do-document the con-ACK-contract,” Toby, who I now had the displeasure of knowing the name of, fights back. His eyebrows pinched together in accusation, glaring at who knows what.

“Enough,” the steady man speaks up again, extinguishing their argument. “We take them back to the cabin and sort it out there… Not out here where everyone can see.” I can hear the scrape of his shoes as he turned on his heel, heading towards the tree line of the forest. The other two trail after him silently as the man above me moved to carry me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Damn this guy was strong… And when did he bind my wrist together? I was appalled to find when I shifted my wrists, feeling the scratchy material of the rope burn into my skin.

“Scream and I’ll kill you. Got it?” he tightened his hold on me as a threat, and I quickly nodded my head before realizing he can’t see my reply.

“Got it…” I muttered.

Who knew I’d spend the time off after work staring at an unnamed man’s butt, watching as the pavement turned into grass, which turned into moss and mud from the forest floor. Even if I craned my head up, the trees slowly swallowed the buildings of the city, encasing us in the darkness of the night, barely lit by the moonlight filtering though the canopies of trees.

What could you do at this point? I’m at the mercy of four strangers and their supposed leader, watching as the life I lived disappear behind a wall of trees.

Chapter Text

I think I missed a week’s worth of classes. After all the part-time jobs and student loans I took out, I couldn’t even attend the courses I paid for. What class would I be in right now? It was maybe midday on a Tuesday. I would be in English Literature right now. I never really like Dr. Blanc’s class, but I’d give anything to hear her drone on about To Kill a Mockingbird. Even the distinct smell of old paper and ink was fading from my memory.

It has been approximately one week since my capture. I’ve only seen the dark, dirty walls of my secluded room and a half bathroom that had a barely working sink and a toilet. Even the singular window I had was boarded up from the outside, limiting the already limited light from seeping in. I stayed curled up on a dirty mattress on the floor. My clothes were stiff with dirt and grime. The plush texture of the hoodie has long since flattened. Dried tears crusted my cheeks and the corners of my eyes. I don’t think I’ve lost the will to live, but doing anything else has proven to be futile. Not wanting to use up my remaining energy, I’ve resorted to spacing out and sleeping.

Clinical studies have been done to estimate the duration of isolation a person can experience before experiencing symptoms of insanity. If I recall correctly, most symptoms start at the seven-day mark. Now, I’m not entirely alone, that’s a given. My captors would grace me with their presence at least twice a day to give me food, but they wouldn’t say much. Each of them was guarded and aloof to an extent when they came by my room. I think Toby was the most talkative of the bunch, but even his company was limited. They never answered my questions or concerns, and I’ve settled on giving curt replies and stiff nods to any of their words. Back to the clinical study, I don’t know if my situation applies to that. Sure, I wasn’t truly alone, but they weren’t much for company. They could be replaced with automatize robots, and the feeling would remain. With no actual mental stimulation and entertainment, I’ve been experiencing headaches, fatigue, and sleeping a lot. Not to mention that I’ve started hearing static buzz in my ears in the quiet of the night. Not a symptom I recall reading about in class, but maybe I glossed over it at the time.

Today was different. The tall man in a yellow hoodie, who I came to know goes by… Hoody, creative right? He came by at his usual punctual time to drop off my next meal, but instead of stalking out right after, he squats down on the floor a few feet from me. He nudges the tray closer to me and gestures to eat. My eyes slowly slid from their place on the wall to his masked face, a black mask with two red circles for eyes and a deep frown. I stare at him with tired eyes before glancing at the tray of food in front of me. The food was never tasty here. I don’t think they owned any seasoning, but I look at the tray of pancakes, eggs, and piece of toast. Are they mocking me? This looks like the combo five from my restaurant, but it's missing the berries and fruit juice. Usually, the smell would make me gag, but right now, it was giving me a sense of warm familiarity in this dim world. I grabbed the utensils and began stuffing my face. At least I knew our cooks seasoned the eggs and buttered the toast. Hoody did not give me the luxury of syrup, but I think I can forgive him for that.

We sat in silence as I stuffed my face with newfound vigor, only the sound of the fork scraping against the metal tray could be heard. I never thought I would enjoy the flavors of a classic American breakfast again. If I could go home, I would never take that restaurant for granted ever again. But all good things come to an end, and I clear off my tray in minutes. He sat across from me silently the whole time, letting me enjoy my meal.

“I’m sorry for keeping you here for so long,” he started, his voice still holding that same steady tone. I jerked my head to look at him, almost forgetting he was there. “It took us some time to come to an… agreement.” I stilled as I watched him. My verdict was coming. For all I know, this could’ve been my last meal and I finished it off too fast without savoring it thoroughly. “We can’t let you go back to your normal life, but we can’t kill you… At least not right now.” I don’t know if that statement was relieving or not. “We’re offering you a different life, a different job. You wouldn’t have to do half the things we do, but at least it’s something to keep you busy with until we find a more permanent solution.” He paused to look at me, studying the way my mouth hung open slightly and the disbelief etched into my face. To my dismay, there was more. “We use the buddy system, so you’ll have one of us with you at all times. When you’re ready, come out and we’ll lay out some ground rules.”

Without waiting for my response, he got up with my empty tray and left the room, this time leaving the door unlocked and cracked open. Did I really have a choice? The way he said it gave me the impression that it was more of an order than an offer. I pulled my knees against my chest and tucked my head down, trying to scrounge my thoughts together.

On one hand, it’s not the worse sentence to be delivered. They could have slashed me open and tossed me into a lake, but no, I have a chance at life. On the other hand, what tasks are they delegating to me exactly? To my knowledge, I’ve only seen a glimpse of “what they do”. Am I taking morbid pictures for them? Am I being recruited to be some housekeeper? Are they going to make me kill someone? I could feel my stomach twist at the thought. Best not think about it.

I tilt my head up to peer at the door held ajar. Warm light from the living room seeped through the opening, almost welcoming me to my new life. Is it really that simple? I can just walk in, do their bidding for God knows how long, and then they’ll set me free? Or am I trapped to this life?

‘I never got to submit my essay,’ a stupid thought really, but I poured hours of work into that paper. I was in the middle of revising it when I got kidnapped. My brain wanted to go back to my simpler, domestic life. One that was predictable and safe. Again, I never thought I’d miss going to class like a normal student, but my current situation was a stark contrast to the soft lights of a classroom. The quiet, eerie cabin the opposite to a mass of buzzing students or even the busy pancake joint. The unknown of future here versus the predictability of my classes. My mind then wandered to a sadder truth. Has anyone noticed my disappearance? Have they started searching for me? Do my parents know? Does anyone miss me? I grimaced at the thought. Was it worth having hope of seeing any remnant of my old life?

A shaky breath leaves me as I curl tighter into a ball. Tears pricked at my eyes but never fell. I think I ran out of energy to cry after the first few nights. I want to survive this so badly. There’s no way I let my story end without getting the chance to do anything with it in the first place, but can I really follow in their footsteps? Am I tainting my feeble legacy with whatever twisted cult they’re a part of?

‘Does it even matter anymore?’ the gnawing thought crossed my mind. Guess not…

My knees creaked as I slowly stood from my spot, the stiff mattress squeaking at the shifting weight. There was no point in steeling myself. They’ve already seen me at my worst. Dark circles plagued my eyes, my skin a paler shade than when I was first captured, and my lips cracked from dehydration. The first thing I want to do after leaving this forsaken room, is lay out in the grass and bathe in the sunlight, but that can wait until after this little meeting.

The door creaked as I pulled it open, and I’m once again in the living room. It was minimally furnished, a worn-out couch in the middle, shaggy carpet riddled with muddy footprints, and a small table holding up an old television. All four of my captors were either seated on the couch or standing nearby. Each adorned their signature masks. The girl, Kate, had the creepiest mask in my opinion. Black eyeholes with white glowing irises and black paint smeared from nose to mouth. To be fair, each of them was just as ominous, but her mask plagued my nightmares for a few nights.

“We were starting to think you wouldn’t come out,” Masky’s gruff voice sounded from his spot beside Hoody.

“Took me a second to understand the situation,” I replied softly. In the minimal light of the living room, a harsh shadow was cast on each of their masked faces. I was starting to wish I had a mask of my own to hide how weak I felt.

“We can understand the shock that comes with encountering us,” Hoody spoke up. “Why don’t you sit? We have a lot to talk about,” he gestures to a spot on the couch, on the opposite end of where Toby sat. He watched me with mild curiosity. His tics did seem to fill the silence. I clung to my arms as I snaked past the grown men and sat myself at the couch, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with all of them watching me intently.

“You have the right to know what you’re getting yourself into,” Hoody started like it was my choice to be here. It was not. “We can start with us,” he gestured around the room and to himself. “We’re what we call proxies. Essentially, a group that carries out contracts and fights against the darkness.” Alright, he lost me already. “We carry out orders from Slenderman and survive. That’s our whole role. None of us willingly joined the cause, but like you, we were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, you either adapt and survive or fall into darkness and die,” his words were grim but firm. I almost had the heart to retaliate but figured it was for the best I shut up and listened.

“This brings us to your role,” Masky began. “We’re not forcing you to carry out any contracts… not yet anyway,” I flinched at his words. “Most of your tasks are more domestic, kinda. Your main tasks are cooking and supply runs, to which Kate or Toby will accompany you,” he nodded towards the two. “Ground rules,” his voice lowered, “No running away. No interacting with anyone from your old life. No going off on your own unless specified.” Even behind the mask I can feel his piercing gaze on me. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the attention. “You’re free to indulge in whatever hobby you want as long as it doesn’t cost us resources. And absolutely no leaving the cabin at night,” his last words carried heavy weight behind it that even made the twitchy proxy still for a moment. “If you leave at night, you’re as good as dead, and it won’t be us delivering the final blow.” Sweat beaded at my palms. What was so bad about nighttime other than the wild animals that prowled at night? Should I ask? My thoughts were broken when Kate spoke up beside me.

“Monsters of darkness hunt at night,” the rasp in her voice made me shiver. “They’re creatures from Zalgo’s domain that creep into our world through rifts.” She has to be insane right? “Zalgo is a demon that crawled out of the deepest parts of hell and established a realm within our own.” That did not answer much of my questions. The confusion must’ve been apparent in my face since she shifted her eyes away from mine. “Believe me or not. It’s your funeral,” she ended her explanation gruffy.

“I feel like you guys are either pulling on my leg or delusional,” the words left my mouth faster than I can register them, but if they were offended, they didn’t show it. “I mean- I get if this is some cult you are all a part of but demons? And- and monsters of the night?” I clung my arms tighter around me, “you have to be-“I stopped myself before the word can slip out.

“I-insane?” Toby inquired almost happily. “If yo-you’ve seen ha-half the shit- FUCK- we have, yo-you’d be insane t-to,” a dark chuckle escapes him, like it was all some big, sick joke. I watched him carefully, suddenly afraid of his twitchy mannerisms. “I-if you d-don’t b-b-believe us,” he cracked his neck towards the front door. I could only assume he was gesturing towards it. “T-try sur-surviving the n-night.” It was a challenge, plain as day. He’s testing to see if I was actually stupid enough to check. But do I really know any better? Part of me itched just to take a peek, but the way everyone held their piercing gaze at me stopped me. They all seemed so certain of the dangers that lurked in the night, and frankly, I didn’t have the courage to stand up to the challenge.

“The sun’s still out,” I said dumbly. Even with the windows boarded up, I can still see some light peeking through the cracks.

“No d-duh, genius,” Toby retaliated. With the way his face scrunched, I can only assume he was grinning. “Y-you wait f-f-for- SHIT- nighttime.” I pursed my lips and looked away from him, not feeling up for the challenge.

“It’s fine,” I muttered under my breath. Everyone else in the room seemed to let out the breath they were holding, pleased to know that I wasn’t going to risk my life today.

“Well, your first supply run is tomorrow,” Hoody’s voice cut through the thick atmosphere. “Kate will go with you, and she’s a fast runner, so don’t even think about trying to outrun her.” I gave a weak nod in understanding. “Good. We’re running low on food, but if you find any medical supplies, like first aid kits and bandages, they’re always appreciated. Kate is running a quick contract, so your job is to raid the house while she finishes up. Got it?” He looked at me expectantly, even with the silly mask, I can feel the authoritative stare behind the red eyes.

“Got it,” I confirmed. A new sense of anxiety clawed at my stomach. My first task was tomorrow. I could only hope that the mission will go smoothly and I can appease their needs in hopes of living another day.

The next day rolled in, and I was stirred from my sleep as Masky came to collect me from my room. His knuckles rapped on the door to signal his entrance before he swung the door open. No light streamed in through the boarded windows. Just how early was it? I sat up groggily and rubbed the sleep in my eyes just as he started talking.
“You and Kate are heading out in 15 minutes. You guys need an early start to the day if you wanna make it back before nightfall.” He didn’t delve much deeper into topic before briskly stepping back out of the room, leaving my door wide open, mind you.

Right, first task…

I didn’t sleep all too well that night. Nerves and a hint of excitement at going back out into the world, of stepping outside of the cabin. The few hours I did manage to get in would have to do. There was no point in dragging my feet, when the taste of freedom was so close. I pulled myself out of bed and did my best to wash up with what little hygiene products I was given. I was out the door and in the living room within five minutes. Masky and Hoody spoke to each other, huddled over the kitchen counter and presumably looking over maps. Toby was sprawled out over the couch, maybe sleeping? It was hard to tell with his goggles and mask on. Kate sat on the other end of the couch, lifting her mask occasionally to take a bite of toast. Two empty backpacks sat beside her, for us I could conclude.

My entrance was easily caught by her. She shoved the rest of the toast in her mouth before walking over to me with the backpacks in one hand and a plate with two pieces of toast on the other. She handed me the backpack first, which I shrugged on, before handing me the plate.

“Hurry up and eat. We have a long walk ahead of us,” she simply stated before shrugging on her backpack and disappearing down the hall into her room.

I bit the dry bread without much appetite, but who knows when we’ll have the chance to eat again. I cleaned off the plate and stacked it in the sink, not knowing what else to do with it. With a quick glance, I can tell how sparse supplies were. Even the loaf of bread was almost gone. I hate how guilt pinched at me. If they were already living like this, I can only imagine how much harder it became since they also had to feed me. But I shouldn’t feel bad. These bastards kidnapped me to begin with.

My deprecating thoughts were interrupted when Kate made it back out in the living room. I don’t know what she grabbed, but her backpack now sagged a little from the weight.

“We’re leaving,” she simply stated, heading towards the door. She cast me a glance, waiting for me to follow. I blinked at her for a second before registering what I needed to do. I met her at the door, gripping the backpack straps anxiously.

“Make sure you get it done, and make it back before the sunsets,” Hoody called out to us. “Remember,” he gave me a pointed look, “no running.” We both nodded at his words and slipped out of the door into the awaiting world.

Chapter Text

I did not consider how silent our walk would be. Kate marched on ahead with no compass or map to guide her, but each of her step felt so sure that I blindly followed her. Blind is a great way to describe it considering I could barely see ten feet in front of me. Morning fog had settled in the forest, and with the sun barely peeking out of the horizon, we barely had any light to shine the path. So much for wanting to bathe in the sun.

There wasn’t much to look at either since most of the area was blanketed with a thick white mist. Every time I turned my head and looked around, I would lose sight of Kate and surge forward only to find her still walking at the same pace. A sneaky girl, she is. I could barely hear her footsteps. Sure, there weren’t that many leaves on the floor, but even straining my ears, I could barely make out the soft squish of mud under her shoes. I abandoned the idea of sightseeing and trying to map out the forest. No matter how hard I tried, every tree looked the same, and I would trip on a knotted root or stray rock every time I took my eyes off the nonexistent path.

Hours droned on while we stalked through the forest. Kate hasn’t made any effort to talk and neither have I. Eventually, I crack and try striking up a conversation with her.

“Where exactly are we going?” my question was met with silence for a moment before she tilted her head to look at me.

“A contract,” she muttered. Well, no shit. I purse my lips in dissatisfaction at her blunt reply.

“Which town will we be in?” I tried again.

“Don’t know. I use coordinates to get around.” You’ve got to be pulling my leg. Is she some ex-military soldier? How is she so mechanical? Maybe she’s a robot. I swat the delusional thoughts from my head. At least she was talking.

“What time is it?” I tested her.

“Roughly eight in the morning by now.” Damn. Not ex-military, I guess.

“Are we raiding a house, robbing a store, or-“ I didn’t get to finish before she answered.

“House.”

Maybe she was getting tired of my incessant questions. I stopped my interrogation just as the trees parted to show a town. It wasn’t my town, that’s for sure. Instead of walking along the sidewalk, like most pedestrians, we stuck to the outskirts of the forest, a small layer of trees separating us from civilization. I had half the mind to bolt into the streets and seek refuge in the stores, but Kate’s ominous presence kept me in check. It was almost like she read my mind. There was a subtle tilt in her head, looking towards my direction as we continued our walk. She figured if I was going to attempt my getaway, it would be now.

We trekked for another hour or so before reaching a neighborhood whose houses had the forest for a backyard. Every house had fences that went up to our midsection, giving us an optimal view into their windows. It dawned on me again what our task was. You can put two and two together and reach the conclusion that we’d break into someone’s home. I would raid their supplies while Kate… dispatched… the owner. My palms felt damp again and my blood ran cold.

It became too real when she stopped behind a home. Only a hundred yards or so separated us from their back door. Kate’s head swiveled around as she surveyed the area, taking note of every person walking about. She grew impossibly more silent as she crept towards the house, her footsteps light and swift. I stumbled after, much less graceful. She didn’t seem to mind as we got closer to the building. My nerves started to spike up again. Are we really breaking into someone’s home in broad daylight? I didn’t have time to protest before a soft click was heard. I jerked my head up to see Kate slide the window open. When did she get through the lock? How many times has she done this before? Probably not a question I want answered.

She slips into the house effortlessly and gestures me to follow her in, one finger pressed against her mask, shushing me. I climbed in after her, again not as graceful. She points towards the kitchen, casting a stern look at me before slipping off her backpack and handing it to me. I felt its weight in my hand as she left me to do my task. She turned on her heel and adventured further into the house. I felt frozen in my spot for a minute, just getting a dose of reality.

I’m standing in someone’s home. I am about to raid said home. Fuck, am I really doing this? I crept towards the kitchen, suddenly aware of every creak of wood. My heart was pounding in my ears. As I pressed forward, I made the mistake of looking at the walls lined with photos. They were family photos. Children’s toothy grins could be seen in most of them alongside a man and woman, holding each other closely. I suddenly felt nauseous. Is that who Kate was… I shook the thought from my head. No noises could be heard from the rest of the house, all was silent, which is odd considering it was practically midday.

I forced myself to walk past the pictures and slid the backpack off my shoulder and opened it up. I rummaged through the cabinets, looking for nonperishable canned goods. It was a painstakingly slow process, since I did my best to reduce the amount of noise I made. My backpack filled up steadily, and I made sure it was sufficiently filled before moving on to Kate’s backpack. I stared down into her pack as I realized what she retrieved from her room. It was a bundle of rope. Was she going to hog tie me if I tried running? A chill ran through me at the thought. I pried my eyes away from the bundle to continue my raid.

As I continued to rummage around, I heard a heavy thump hit the floor somewhere in the house. My hands stilled as I strained to hear anything else, but all I heard was the pounding of my own heart and the ticking clock on the wall. Each tick slid ever so slowly, like even time was holding its breath. A minute passes, then another one. No noise. I slowly stood from my place in the kitchen and crept towards the dark hallway to peer down, waiting to see any movement. I was almost sure nothing would happen until Kate came out of one of the rooms, fresh blood splattered on her dirty white hoodie. Her neck snapped up to meet my eyes, and I froze in my spot, like a child caught by a parent.

Nothing was said for a moment before she pointed at a door across from her. Did she want me to go in there? My eyebrows pinched as I obeyed. I shrugged on my backpack, now heavy with food, and grabbed Kate’s half-filled pack and brought it towards the room she pointed to. To my relief, it was just the bathroom. There were no bodies lying about. I went through the cabinets and found a few medical supplies and a first aid kit, probably what she wanted me to grab. I stuffed those in her backpack and zipped them shut. Both bags were sufficiently filled.

I held in a yelp of surprise when Kate materialized behind me, watching me with those glowing irises.

“Don’t do that,” I hissed through gritted teeth. With how on edge I was, I feared my heart was going to stop. She merely shrugged and took her backpack from my hands and made a quick inspection. For all my hard work, she gave me a thumbs up and slung her backpack on. Before I could say anything else, she made her way back towards the window. As I moved to follow her, my eyes caught sight of something.

How blissful it would be to be blind right now. Other than the sharp smell of iron in the air, I caught sight of a puddle of blood inching towards the room’s opening. I felt rooted in my spot as I watched the red liquid creep towards the hallway where I stood. She killed someone. I don’t know why I’m so surprised. Only this wall separated me from a dead body. Holy fuck she killed someone. My mouth felt dry. The static noise came back, ringing louder than ever in my ear. I tried clenching my hands to draw me back, but to no avail. I was stuck, transfixed on the puddle that seemed to reach for my feet.

“We have to go,” Kate’s voice rasped, her cold hand clamping on my shoulder. It shook me out of my spell, but I jerked back from her, frightened. She let her hand fall limp beside her as she watched me. She could see how I spiraled, and right now, I couldn’t stand the look of her mask. It will haunt me in my nightmares later, that I knew for sure.

“We have to go,” she said again, this time more firmly, “you can sulk about it on our walk back.” With that she made her way back towards the window and slipped out, watching me expectantly.

What the hell did I get myself into? I’m walking away with a literal murder, probably a serial killer, and the corpse just rots here until their family finds them. Just how many people were killed in this house? Was this the only target or did she eliminate a whole generation? I felt sick. I felt disgusted. Fuck, what am I supposed to do?

I took one step, then another, as I made my way to the window. I felt hallow and drained. We still had a whole hike back to the cabin. Suddenly, I wished I distributed the weight of backpacks better. I should’ve put all the heavy items in hers. Maybe I would’ve had a better chance of outrunning her if the weight dragged her down.

The walk back to the cabin was just as silent as when we left. I let a wider gap fall between us, and Kate made no effort to close that distance. As long as I followed behind, she would let me be. Only when my steps would pause would she stop to look at me.

I made no effort to talk. All questions that brewed in my head would only lead to arguments and hatred. Right now, I knew she was capable of murder. If I stepped out of line, there would be no witnesses to my demise. With every step closer to the cabin, it felt like I was walking towards my doom, to a cage I would forever be stuck in. And can someone turn off that damn static in my ear? I felt so overwhelmed. At some point, death sounded like a viable option.

My mind turned blank after a few hours of self-destruction. I blindly followed Kate just as I did that morning, only now was she picking up her pace. It was hardly noticeable, but if I didn’t speed up every few minutes, she would’ve left me behind in the forest. The sun was starting to dip behind the horizon, night was coming. I don’t know how much farther we were from the cabin, but after today, I was ready to sleep it all away.

We continued our steady pace, but even Kate seemed on edge, and that was enough to have me on edge. Whatever she feared in the forest rattled her to the core. I didn’t notice this the first night they brought me to the cabin, though there was probably safety in numbers. Without the guys here, she was left to defend the two of us.

The sun seemed to taunt us, dipping lower and lower into the horizon and the cabin was still out of sight. We’ve gotten to a jogging pace at this point, and Kate now held a bloodied knife in her hand. I had to fight my inner turmoil of being near her or further away. I tried not to look at it, but the parts that weren’t caked with dried blood gleamed in the remaining light. Even in moonlight, you can see how well polished the blade was. Wait… moonlight? I craned my head towards the moon, watching it peek over the trees. Fuck it was nighttime.

The forest grew eerily silent save for the way our feet pounded on the floor as we started running towards the direction of the cabin. I can see what they mean when they said Kate was fast. I can see her physically strain to slow her pace to match mine. She was ready to leave me behind in a moment’s notice but felt a sense of responsibility towards me that stopped her from plowing ahead.

My lungs burned in my chest and my body ached, sprinting with an extra 20 pounds on your back is not for the weak. Though, I couldn’t break my stride. A deep primal growl sounded off somewhere to our right. Its heavy feet stomped the floor as it bounded towards us. There was something unnatural in its voice, like an echo. No animal could’ve made that sound.

“Hurry up,” Kate barked at me, alarm laced in her voice, “if we stop, we’re screwed.” I couldn’t reply. My lungs were too busy trying to pump oxygen to my body. I couldn’t ignore the impending doom I felt. It was almost like I could feel the creature’s breath on my neck. It was. It was the creature’s breath on my neck. Kate had to reach back and thrust me forward to escape the maw of its jaws. I can hear a sickening snap of its mouth as it barely missed me, a frustrated growl rumbling through its chest.

“Run!” Kate screamed, “Get the boys out here!” There was no arguing with her tone. Her footsteps stopped as she spun around to face the monster that followed us. A ring sounded off as its claw struck against her knife. Kate grunted from the effort but stood her ground.

I don’t know why I did it. I looked. And the creature my eyes met was something so unearthly and demonic. Black and red coated its fur. Black spit, drooled from its massive jaws. And the eyes… so many of them. A glowing shade of yellow as eyes littered its whole body, all twisting and turning as it frantically scanned its surroundings. It was twice the size of Kate, but she stood her ground.

An equally sickening thought crossed my mind. What if I left her to die? I quickly shook the thought from my head as the cabin came into view. The soft glow of the lights seeped through the boarded windows.

“Help!” my voice croaked, “Guys! Masky! Hoody! Toby!” my voice ran ragged as I pushed myself to keep going. I stumbled up the porch stairs and slammed my body against the wooden door, forcing it wide open. All the men jolted from their rooms, each holding their own respective weapon.

Masky and Hoody looked the readiest as they held a crowbar and pistol. Toby, however, stumbled out of his room, goggles gone, mask barely fitted to his face, but his hatchets were in his hands.

I pointed frantically towards the direction I just came from, trying not to cough a lung out. “Kate- monster- help,” I managed to say between gasps. That seemed to be enough to get the message through. All three of them stormed out of the house towards the fight as I collapsed to my hands and knees, just trying to regain my breath. I’ve never had so much adrenaline course through me before. I was half ready to pass out, but not when a threat was so near. I let the backpack slide off my back. It landed with a loud thud beside me. Without the weight, it became easier to breathe.

Holy fuck I’m alive, was all I could think. I stared the front door, still wide open. They were out there dealing with- whatever the fuck that was. Images of that thing flashed through my brain, so they weren’t lying about creatures of the night. How we got back here in one piece the first night is beyond me.

For once, I was truly stumped. Worry gnawed at me as minutes passed, and the group had yet to emerge from trees. But why should I be worried about them? They kidnapped me. But… why can’t I hate them for it? Is it because Kate sacrificed herself to let me make it back to the cabin? Is it because they have treated me well given the circumstance? Is it because they have been the blip to my rather boring life? I can’t care for these people. I still don’t get their motives, their goal. Kate killed someone today, I reminded myself. The turmoil within me only continued to grow. I felt tired, sick, and nauseous all at once. Even the stupid static in my ear came back. I gripped my head in my hands, my fingers tugging at my hair.

What am I doing here?

Twenty minutes pass and I find myself pacing in the kitchen. What did I do while they were probably fighting for their lives out there? I made dinner. I took a pot out, dumped canned veggies and tomato sauce in it, and I even seasoned the damned stew. I found a cut of beef in the fridge and added it in, covering the pot with a lid and letting it all cook. The dish simmered on the stove as I silently watched the flame. My eyes would look back at the front door, now closed, before going back to the flame. Nothing really made sense anymore, but at least the buzz in my ear stopped.

After the long deafening silence, the door creaked open. Masky helped Kate in, her arm swung over his shoulder as he carried most of her weight in. He helped her get settled against the couch before grabbing her backpack from Hoody and digging through it for the first aid kit. Toby followed in last. The guy was battered and bloodied, but he showed no signs of pain, fatigue maybe, but not pain. He still went to slump on the couch beside Kate, stripping off his jacket tiredly. I joined them in the living room, unsure if my presence was needed.

Kate grunted as Masky helped her get the bloodied hoodie off, checking over her injuries. There was a nasty bite on her arm, with the same black sludge of spit lining the injury. Even her mask was discarded beside her, her breathing ragged.

“Get us water and a clean rag,” Masky directed, even without looking at me, I knew he was ordering me to get it, and I followed. He took the rag from my hands and dipped it in the water, dabbing the injury to clean off as much spit off as possible. Kate’s face scrunched in pain, but she made no noise.

“Are- are you guys okay?” I asked softly. I hated how worried I became.

“Not the worst injury we’ve endured,” Masky spoke, his voice low, “but we need more supplies to help her through it.” He popped the first aid kit open and started disinfecting the gash, even taking care to clean up any more injuries.

“Can you bring these two their dinner? It’s best if they eat and sleep it off.” I nodded quickly before escaping back into the kitchen to serve them their bowls. I placed Kate’s beside her as Masky continued to bandage her up, and I moved to hand Toby his. He had a long gash on his bicep that hung limp beside him, but he placed the bowl on his lap and ate with his good arm.

“Does that not hurt?” I asked him before I could stop. I stared at the bleeding cut, that now stained the couch. Toby craned his head up to look at me, surprised by the answer.

“N-no,” he said bluntly, “I c-can’t feel pain,” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Are you in shock?” my brows furrowed in confusion. He was functioning well for having such a traumatic injury.

“N-no,” he pouted at my incessant questions. “I h-have CIPA. I me-medically can’t f-feel pain.”

“Oh…” I scratched my arm awkwardly before walking away, unsure of what to say.

I find Hoody in the kitchen, bent over his own bowl of stew. Even his mask was discarded so he could eat comfortably.

“Food’s good,” he complimented, spooning another scoop into his mouth.

“Glad to hear. I managed to grab some spices while I was… resupplying.” The words felt weird on my tongue. Just casually talking about how I broke into someone’s home and stole their food while Kate unalived them down the hall. My hands gripped the end of my hoodie as I mustered the courage to ask.

“Do you guys always kill people?” My voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard. His spoon stopped halfway between the bowl and his lips, a frown tugging on his stubbled face. “I’m- I’m sorry for asking. It’s just, I saw…” my voice trailed off.

“If it makes you feel any better, the people we’re contracted to eliminate are all bad. Mainly devil worshippers that try opening portals for Zalgo to get through,” his words were careful.

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better,” I replied honestly. “You’re telling me, people willingly open portals to let monsters like- that- come in?”

“Some people don’t have any better to do,” he shrugged.

“So, the person that Kate was… contracted… to kill. Was he also?” I felt hesitant to ask. Hoody’s eyes turned hard at my question, his lips pursing in thought.

“He sacrificed his kids,” his words rang in my ears.

“I’m sorry?” I stumbled. Hoody casted me a glance, his eyes serious.

“He sacrificed his children to open a portal… And he succeeded.” I don’t think my heart can handle anymore. I could feel it break as he repeated his words. The pictures I saw, the happy family with wide grins and tight hugs. That man killed his own. For what? Money? Fame? Power? I felt sick all over again. I gripped the counter to steady myself, feeling all the symptoms wash over me again. They don’t kill just for the hell of it or for money. They were taking out actual cultists that were sacrificing innocent children. The static in my ear started again. This time it buzzed so loud, I could barely hear Hoody and his frantic calls to pull me back. His hands were on my face as he forced me to look up at him with glazed eyes. I see his lips move, but I can’t hear anything through the cloud of static. His palm pressed against my forehead and quickly drew it back; a frustrated look scrunched his face. He calls to someone behind me before he dips down to throw me over his shoulder and carries me to my room.

The familiar musk surrounds me as he lays me down on the mattress. I try reaching out to him as he rushes back out the door and clicks it shut. By now my body felt too heavy, too tired, too aching, to move.

Chapter Text

I felt nothing and everything all at once. Moving even a finger took so much concentration, but I could freely feel every cold breeze that grazed my skin. It felt like the flu. Cold sweat drenched me from head to toe. My muscles ached like I just finished a triathlon. What’s worse is the incessant static noise that filled my ears. It was non-stop buzzing that muffled the outside world. I could hear voices trying to reach me, but it was all blocked out. It felt like cotton was shoved into my ears and filled my brain. I have the vaguest memory of saying something, it was spiteful and venomous, but I couldn’t recall the words. Red filled my vision, and I had the deepest rage unleashing. I’m not sure who it was directed to, but I spat heinous curses at whoever was nearby. It wasn’t my intention to be so hateful, but the words spewed out before I could register them. Maybe my subconscious was tired of this whole charade. Maybe in my state of weakness, I’ve finally snapped from all the pressure. I felt disgusted, though I’m not sure who it’s directed to. Maybe it’s towards myself. 

Being trapped in your own psyche was an interesting experience to say the least. When I “regained consciousness”, I felt panicked. Sleep paralysis is the best way I could describe it but without a creepy figure looming over my body. The perspective jumbled my mind, astral projection is the term, I believe. My body lashed out at anyone that came near, and all I could do was helplessly watch. Maybe it’s all some twisted dream. Lucid dreaming perhaps. My tantrums became so vicious that Masky and Hoody had to intervene and tie my limbs down. I now laid, hogtied, to the mattress with a deep scowl on my face.  

I don’t know how long I’d be stuck in this state, but I grew bored after a day or two. This also means my body hasn’t eaten in a day or two. This is all speculation if that many days did pass. Any attempts to feed me would result in my body lashing out and headbutting the boys as they got near. I almost felt bad when I landed a good hit on Hoody. 

Though, today was different. A lady came in, and it wasn’t Kate. I could barely make out the features of her face as she swiftly lunged at me, plunging a syringe in my neck. Her sudden actions surprised me. How she got so close so quickly was beyond me. After that act, I was torn from my state and forced to actually wake up in my body. I gasped in shock, drawing deep gulps of breath as I regained control of my body. I immediately felt cold. All my senses overwhelmed me after being stuck in that muffled state. 

“Looks like they can survive it,” her voice rang out, rough and low. I craned my neck to look at her, still fighting the side effects. She swiftly turned to Masky and spoke to him in hushed tones, leaving me out of the conversation. With his mask on, I couldn’t gauge what she said, but the way his body stiffened told me it wasn’t good. 

“You haven’t told them about the sickness?” she hissed at him, loud enough for me to hear. “How are you going to drag a civilian into all of this and not make them aware?”

“We already told them about Zalgo and the cause,” Masky tried to retaliate, but she interrupted him and jabbed a finger in his chest.

“You tell them everything. You’re lucky I was here delivering your medication. Any sooner and we would’ve lost them to the sickness,” she spat, her eyes full of disdain. 

“I know- I know,” Masky ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “We tried getting contact with EJ, but he’s contracted on the other side of the country right now.” Who? Who’s EJ and who is this lady?

She stared at Masky for a moment before letting out a hard sigh. “I have to come back with more medicine. For now, try to quell their… hunger,” she said carefully. She turned and regarded me for a second, pity laced in her tired eyes. From here I can see a long scar that dragged from her forehead down to her jaw and a wide patch of scar tissue that looked like it was from a chemical burn that started from her opposite jaw and trailed down her neck. 

“I’ll be back in a few days. Just make sure they take this twice a day,” she shoved a pill bottle in his hands and walked out of the room. Her tattered lab coat blew behind her as she made a brisk exit, leaving neither of us room to argue. I see the frustration brewing within him as he clenched the bottle tightly in his fingers. I expected him to walk off after her, but he instead turned towards me and crouched beside my mattress.

“You feelin’ okay?” he asked, his voice wary. 

“What happened?” I managed to say, still feeling very weak and drained. I cursed my possessed self for rejecting all their attempts to feed me. My stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself.

Masky stared at me for a second, contemplating his next choice of words. “It’s something we call the Slender Sickness,” he began. What a stupid name. “It’s basically the side effects of being too close. Too close to the Zalgoid creatures. Too close to the forest. We don’t really understand it ourselves, but most of us went through it at one point. But that doesn’t make us immune to ‘reinfection’ I guess…” Maybe my head was still filled with cotton, because what is this guy on about? He gives a frustrated sigh. “Hoody’s better at explaining this than me, but he’s out right now.” Masky twists the pill bottle in his hands, reading the label like it would give him the answers. “We didn’t think you’d get it, not this soon. It usually infects you after being in the forest for a month, so we weren’t expecting you to…” he didn’t know how to finish his words. 

Silence fills the space around us. He ran out of things to say. 

“Who was she? And who’s EJ?” I asked slowly. More of their friends, I can assume.

His head quirked up, meeting my eyes. “That’s Iris. Kind of like our resident pharmacist. She’s been trying to develop medication that combats the sickness, but most have been well enough to only subside the symptoms for a while. In the end, it’s up to you and your will power if you can overcome it.” He clenches and unclenches his hands a few times, getting his bearings. “She supplies most with general medicine and salves. Things that you can’t get over the counter,” he hesitates before continuing, “Hoody and I rely on her for anti-hallucinogens and other shit like that. Especially sleeping meds. They’re hard to come by.” It was a vulnerable topic for him; one I can appreciate him for sharing. 

I gave a small nod of understanding, signaling him to continue.

“EJ is our doctor, kind of. He’s the only one with a medical background and knows how to stitch us up past basic first aid. He’s… different, and you might meet him whenever he finishes with his contract.” So, there are more of them out there. How many? I wouldn’t know.

“Slender Sickness,” I say, “is that connected to Slenderman? The guy you work for.”

“More or less,” he sighs. “Again, we don’t really know what causes the sickness, but one notable symptom is the static noise in your head. We usually get it when he’s close, but none of us have experienced it in a while. When you stopped responding to us, we could only assume that static was blocking your hearing.” This all just felt so convoluted. With every answer, I only had more questions, but one question reigned above all.

“What did I do?” I croaked, my voice heavy, “it felt like I wasn’t in my body, and I was just watching myself attack you guys. Was it a dream or did I really…” my voice trailed off.

He seemed to hesitate before answering, “it was real,” his voice was dark. “Another symptom of Slender Sickness is insatiable bloodlust…” he looked at me, watching how my face paled at the information. “That’s why we had to tie you down until we could get you back in control of yourself. Like I said, Iris is working on a cure for it, but we haven’t gotten to that point yet,” his face tilted down in thought. “She left you this,” he shook the pill bottle in his hands, “it should make the symptoms subside for a while.”

“I’m sorry what-?” I gawked at him, “bloodlust?” I’m sure my face portrayed just how appalled I felt. “I was trying to kill you guys?” My blood ran cold at the thought. I wasn’t just being some rebellious kid; I was out for blood. 

“It’s okay-“ Masky tried to calm my rampaging thoughts. “No one got hurt, and it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen it happen.” He looked like he wanted to say more but decided against it. “You’ll be fine,” he said firmly.

“But how can you know that?” my voice sounded desperate.

“Just. Trust me.” There was a tone of finality in his voice, like there was no room to argue. Could you blame me if I said I didn’t trust his words? As firm as he was, I wasn’t convinced. 

“Look. I’m going to untie you, and you’re going to eat and take your meds,” he laid the pill bottle in my hand. “If we follow the protocol, you’ll be fine. No bloodlust.”

I could only nod at his words, still feeling doubtful. He untied me and helped me out of bed, guiding me to the kitchen where a sandwich was waiting along with a cup of juice. I couldn’t stop myself from tearing into the sandwich. No matter how fatigued I felt, hunger overpowered everything else, but the sandwich wasn’t enough to satisfy my hunger. I downed the pills as instructed and drained the juice from my cup. 

With that inconvenience out of the way, I thought back to the other residents. “Where’s Kate and Toby? Are they?” I tried to fight the worry in my face.

“Resting. Mostly healed up by now. Just some perks to becoming a proxy, but we couldn’t risk them getting hurt again,” Masky took my dirty dishes to the sink, placing them inside carefully. “So, they’ll be out of commission for a few more days.”

“I never got to thank her for the other night,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. His shoulders softened at my words. 

“She’s awake if you want to go see her,” he nodded towards the hallway. 

I made my way down the hall, watching the doors pass until I got to hers. I rapped my knuckles against the wood softly, suddenly worried about disturbing her. Before I could change my mind, the door swung open, and I jumped back a little. 

“Holy fuck you’re fast,” I placed a hand to my heart, feeling it pound in my chest.

“You’re up. That’s good,” she stated. She wasn’t wearing her signature white hoodie and mask, instead opted for a simple shirt and sweats, her arm wrapped in a fresh bandage. 

“Yeah… I just wanted to thank you, for the other night,” my eyes traced down to her bandages, a pang of guilt hitting me. “I’m glad you’re doing alright.”

She shrugged at my words, “it had to be done. I appreciate you listening and getting the guys.” I nodded stiffly at her words. More guilt ate at me as I remembered my fleeting thought of letting her die at the jaws of the monster. 

“The least I could do,” I gave a forced smile. She nodded, decided that was the end of the conversation and shut the door in my face. “Yeah… good talk,” I muttered to her door before walking away. 

A basic routine was established over the course of the week. Since most of us were out of commission, the food supply dwindled. Masky and Hoody’s efforts were all that filled our cupboards. But between juggling contracts and raiding enough to feed five mouths, it was getting tedious. 

I haven’t had any drastic symptoms since that day. The occasional static in my ears, but even those weren’t concerning. However, it got to the point where I started feeling restless. I guess this is the alternative to raging bloodlust. Now I was stuck with a lot of pent-up energy, to the point it started to become concerning. I was bouncing off the walls just from cooking meals. 

“Think you’re up for another raid?” Hoody asked, a knowing grin on his face. I perked up at his offer. I could still feel myself buzzing with energy. Don’t get me wrong. My moral compass still disagreed with this task, but the excess energy had to go. It was starting to wear me out mentally. 

“I could go for a quick run,” I nodded enthusiastically.

“Alright, you’re with me then while Masky does the contract,” he nodded towards his counterpart.

“Are we going now?” I inquired quickly, “can we go now?” Hoody glanced at a clock on the wall, it was still early in the day, but something made him hesitate. 

“If we go now, we’d have to cut travel time. Think you can keep up?” There was a playful tone to his challenge, but we knew he was worried about nightfall. 

“I’ll be so fast, I’ll be running circles around the both of you,” I nodded confidently. I was like a child powered by candy. 

“Alright, go pack up and-“ I didn’t let him finish before dashing off to the closet where our backpacks and duffle bags were stored. He watched me with mild amusement as I produced three bags for us. “Hold on there. Let us get our things, okay?” a light chuckle rumbles his chest as he slid past me to go to his room, most likely to get his gun. Masky followed behind, grabbing a crowbar. 

It wasn’t long until we departed from the cabin. This time we were not taking a leisurely walk, and there was no fog to slow us down. We jogged through most of the forest, only stopping occasionally to catch our breath and for Masky to smoke a cigarette. I didn’t realize just how much he smoked until we stopped every hour for his smoke break. Where all my energy was coming from, I had no idea. Even with food rations being cut, it feels like I ate three square meals a day and trained daily. I bounced on my heels during the breaks, eager to keep going, but Hoody kept a tight leash on me on how far I can be from them. 

I didn’t realize where our destination was until we got there. We were in a neighborhood in the same town I lived in, but on the other side. It all felt so familiar but different. Granted, it is a part of town I had no business in, so I never went this far out. We slipped into the home much faster than before, and I beelined it to the kitchen with Masky’s pack in my hands, Hoody hot on my trail. 

Masky crept through the halls, a little faster than usual to accommodate for my need to keep moving. If he took too long, I would grow restless and make too much noise. Hoody stayed beside me, helping me pack more efficiently. I didn’t have half the mind to pack neatly. All I contributed was to take all the food from its shelves and put it in piles beside Hoody who did some weird Tetris to make it all fit. 

We were making good progress until it hit me. My frantic hands stilled as a sharp iron scent filled my nose. Hoody didn’t notice the smell, but he paused seeing me so still. He could see the change in my stature as I postured my body to face towards the source. One step, then another. My body was willing itself to see the blood, to add to its carnage. There was a moment where I regained myself, and I stumbled back, falling flat on my ass, covering my nose with my hand. Holy fuck, I was about to let myself float over to a murder scene like it was a hot pie on a window. 

My brain started to ache as I fought off the instinct, the static returning to my ears. Hoody was now at my side, shaking me, trying to swat the cloud that dropped over my senses. I remained stunned on the floor, still fighting the urge to see the corpse that lay somewhere in the house, but something else caught my attention. 

A door. In front of me, behind Hoody. It creaked open as a man stepped inside, disheveled from working his night shift. He froze, staring at Hoody and I at the floor before jumping towards a cabinet, presumably where a weapon hid. My eyes homed in on his every move, like I was stuck in a trance. In Hoody’s desperate attempts to bring me back, he didn’t notice the man, but I did. And I can see him reaching into the drawer in slow motion, his hand contorted to grab a gun. Without thinking, I shoved Hoody away from me and grabbed a can of tomato soup. Hoody was too slow in trying to reign me back, his eyes now registering the man I hard focused on. It all happened so quickly. The shove, the grab, the pounce. In three frames I was tackling the man to the floor, can of soup held high above my head before it came crashing down against his temple. I couldn’t process what I was doing at that point. I raised the can again, and down it went. Though this time, the can exploded open from the force and so did his head. Thick red liquid sprayed throughout the whole room, but I didn’t stop. The can came down a fourth time before Hoody’s arms wrapped under mines and dragged me off the body. Which chunks were tomato, and which were his brain, I couldn’t tell you. But I thrashed against his hold, thirsty for more. 

He kept me locked in a firm hold as I tried lunging for the body again, animalistic growls emitting from my chest. His hold tightened with every attempt at the body. I was driven by pure primal instinct to make sure my target was dead. Even with the corpse lying limply, I felt the desire to mutilate it further. After a few minutes of fighting him, do I finally hear his voice breaching the thick cloud that surrounded my consciousness. I paused, my brain still registering what I did. Feeling my body stop resisting, he loosened his hold but kept me in place.

“You with me?” he muttered into my ear.

“What…” I said dazed. My arms were still held in the air and the can clutched in my hand. “What?” I repeated, this time more quietly. My hands started to lower. Whatever adrenaline that coursed through me quickly faded as reality caught up to me. Only when my arms went slack did I start trembling. 

“H-Hoody?” His name tumbled out of my mouth feebly. My eyes dragged from the corpse down to my hands, covered in blood and soup. I could only stare down in shock. His hold on me tightened, not to restrain me but to comfort.

“I’m here,” he muttered. I could barely feel the pounding of his own heart on my back, mines was too overwhelming. 

“Hoody… I…” the words fell silently.

“I know,” he squeezed me, “I know.” 

Silence encased us. Only the sounds of my ragged breathing could be heard as we helplessly watched the blood drain out of the body onto the carpeted floor. 

“Good news, I got one of the targets,” Masky’s voice sounded from down the hall. “Bad news, the husband isn’t…” he paused, walking into the mess I made in the living room. He stared at the body for a moment before sweeping his eyes to look at me still wrapped in Hoody’s hold. “Ah…” was all he could say before turning on his heel to grab our backpacks from the kitchen. 

Chapter Text

The whole concept of life and death is a rabbit hole of twists and turns with no linear path. It is never black and white, just an endless scale of grey. How someone can believe they can dictate who lives and dies and beyond me. To play God to an unsuspecting victim is to tamper with fates of everyone involved. Maybe I’m just too cynical, but nothing looked the same after that day. Even when we trekked through the forest, every branch seemed to twist in cruel angles, much sharper than before. The skies were greyer, and they lost their warmth. My hands were washed clean, but I could still feel the blood running across my skin. The red tint stained my skin, or maybe I scrubbed my hands raw in desperation to wash the sin away.

Masky and Hoody haven’t said much to me since we left the house. Masky now carried more pictures of my deeds and his in his pocket. He could probably use it for blackmail, but I knew they were all confirmations of the contract being completed. It’s a sick hobby to have, really. Buying polaroid film meant to capture heartfelt memories between friends are now used to capture the deaths of many. It is a very macabre hobby. I couldn’t tell if they took joy in the act, but they certainly weren’t shaken by it.

This brings us back to me. Shaken and mortified as I trudged on like a zombie through the forest. No words came to mind that I wanted to say out loud. The weight of my backpack barely went noticed even as we hiked up hill. I felt utterly numb and hallow. I fought myself, unable to decide if I wanted my hands to wrap around me or be cut off entirely.

The only upside to this twisted event is that the symptoms subsided completely, like the hunger of the sickness was finally satiated. At this point, I would have rather still be suffering from its effects than be a murderer, but there’s no taking it back. There are no do overs. I already committed the crime. The body has been cold for hours now. I felt cold. Not in a way where I could fix the issue with a jacket, no. I feel like I lost a part of myself, a cold barren hole where my soul used to be. Do souls get taken after you’ve lost the right to it? Does it get revoked like a membership card to a club? Could I ever earn the right to have it back? I don’t know.

The cabin peaks out through the thrush of trees. Even its welcoming embrace felt nonexistent. It was another rude awakening to my situation. A situation I’m constantly reminded of that I seem to forget. No matter how comfortable I start to feel around them, this was not my home. They are not my family. They kidnapped me. They murder people. They serve some weirdo that goes by an alias. They fight demons for fucks sake. I tear at the thought. I killed someone too.

There was no warm welcome to our return. Toby and Kate sat around the kitchen table, eating leftovers from last night’s dinner. They both turned to regard us as we entered. Maybe we looked as somber as we felt. I thought they would leave us be until Toby spoke up.

“T-Took you g-guys long enough,” he huffed, “we th-thought- SHIT- we w-were gonna ha-have to d-do a s-search party,” he took a bite of his food, unaware of the pained look that crossed my face, but Kate noticed. She stared at my face, the only one unmasked, but said nothing. Our party dispersed, moving to put our weapons or raided supplies away. “W-what? N-nothing i-intresting happen?” he prodded. He looked up from his plate and looked at each of us as we moved about, but I remained rooted in my spot, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

I didn’t know where I should go. Should I help Hoody unpack? We did get a lot this time around. Or should I just go to bed and try to forget everything? My inner turmoil became Toby’s sudden interest as he stared at me, twitching.

“I-It happened,” he grinned sadistically. “D-didn’t it?” Going to bed it is…

“Leave them alone, Toby,” Hoody warned, not wanting to deal with his theatrics.

“N-no, I w-wanna know,” he turned his body to face me, attentive. “How’d it h-happen? Wh-who’d you k-kill? What’d y-you k-kill with?” he asked eagerly. His questions fell on my deaf ears as I refused to acknowledge them. Finding the strength to move, I pushed away from the door and skirted past everyone, hiding away in my desolate room. 

“I told you to drop it,” I could faintly hear Hoody’s voice scold him before it became muffled by the door.

I killed a man. I killed a man. I killed a man. I killed a man. There was so much pressure behind my eyes, but nothing fell. No tears were shed for the life taken. How can one be so distraught but so empty all at once. I think this is what people call “being in shock.” I felt so overwhelmed and underwhelmed all at once, and I didn’t know which feeling felt more jarring.

The room felt much colder than before, but its eerie atmosphere didn’t bother me anymore. Though, now I wished I filled the room with something to keep me occupied with. Nothing but the mattress on the floor and a creaky bedside table in the vast emptiness. For how familiar the room was, it felt foreign, like I was looking at it with a new set of eyes.

Fuck… this all felt so utterly fucked.

My head buzzed with newfound adrenaline and my body felt numb. I stared into the dark corners of my room like the answer to my unravelling would be there. Why did I do that? Was it really the effects of the sickness or am I lying to myself just to save my own sanity?

You did what you had to, a voice rang out in the back of my head, deep and authoritative. You have the potential of becoming great. If only you’d let me in. A shiver ran down my spine. I’m actually going insane. I’m hearing voices now, or my consciousness is lying to me. Is this divine retribution for taking a life? My mind starts to eat away at itself?

The first is always the hardest, but you are already so sufficient and strong.

No, no, no – get out of my head. I curled myself further, trying to push the incessant thoughts away. The static filled my brain, making me grip at my hair in futile attempts to silence the noise. Why won’t it go away? Why is this sickness real?

“Leave me alone,” I croak out quietly to no one in particular. My room was still empty, but a new presence took residence deep in my brain.

You have already taken the first steps to becoming a proxy. I can grant you the silence you desire if only you yield to me.

“You’re not real…” I muttered weakly under my breath. The air in the room grew thick and heavy. Either it was or I was having a panic attack. “Just a voice in my head – guilt for killing that innocent man,” I tried reasoning with myself.

I am as real as the others that have dragged you into this life, the voice boomed with certainty. And the man you killed was far from innocent. I knew you mortals were fragile hearted, but you… your mind is strong. To be able to resist my calls for so long and still be sane is intriguing.

“What call? Your stupid static?” My fingers dug into my scalp; light crescents pressed into my skin. I was talking to myself. I was having an argument with a voice in my head.

My static could not form a proper connection with you until now. Your completion of the contract allowed me to finally access your mind. There was a hint of arrogance in the voice, like it expected me to fall into sickness’ clutches. That pesky doctor knows she can’t keep me away from my proxies or anyone else I choose to seek out. Medicine cannot cast out magic.

I didn’t reply. Too much filled my head that my own thoughts barely had room to roam. Not real. Not real. Not real. I tried chanting in my head. The presence only continued to bombard my mind.

“Not real?” the voice asked tinged with slight amusement. I froze. That was most definitely not in my head. The ominous presence felt so overbearing now, I was scared to lift my head up. Curiosity be damned, I forced myself to look up.

My eyes locked on a pair of polished, black leather dress shoes, and slowly they trailed up to see the tailored dress pants. They seemed impossibly long as I continued to drag my eyes up, taking in the equally tailored suit jack and ridiculously long limbs hidden behind the fabric. Finally, I landed on its face, or their lack of. It was hunched over to accommodate for the small space, and the top of its head still grazed the ceiling. It’s face… so plainly white wrapped around the skull within. A mixture of soft and sharp edges gave it a vague expression of a face. Its skin is such a stark contrast to the black suit and red tie.

I felt scared and mesmerized all at once, but I looked at it like a deer in headlights.

What the hell is that?

“I am Slenderman. The contractor of the proxies you live with,” It seemed to reply so casually. I was certain I did not ask that question aloud. “You need not speak it. I can read your mind, child.” My jaw hung slack. I must be hallucinating.

“Now come, child. Yield to me, and you can regain your autonomy,” its extremely long arm raised to reach out to me. It was only then did my senses kick back in, and I pushed away from it, pressing my back against the wall.

“N-no- I don’t trust you,” I hastily said. My heels dug into the wooden floor, but there was nowhere else to run. The door was beside it. One stride and their legs would be covering my only exit.

It continued to loom over me menacingly, though it didn’t have to do much to accomplish the task of freaking me out. Just craning my head to look up at it is enough to keep me frozen in fear.

To my surprise the door busted open, and Hoody stumbled in, his body language expressed an intense alarm. His head whipped to my form to the large creature that stalked the whole room.

“Slenderman – they’re not ready,” he tried reasoning. But Slenderman paid him no mind. “What happened during the contract was an accident-“ Just as Hoody tried to stride towards me, a black tendril shot out of the creature’s back and lunged towards me. I didn’t have time to react as it wrapped its cold appendage around my neck, and I was submerged into the coldest embrace I’ve ever felt.

One moment I could see Hoody reach out to me, his defiant scream cutting out, the second, I was on my hands and knees on cold dirt and decaying leaves. Static filled my head so much, it felt like my brain was replaced with cotton. I was stripped of my senses. My eyes were blurred, my ears ringing, my mouth dry, my nose clogged with nonexistent mucus, and my fingertips numb to the scratchy feeling of the leaving.

How the hell did I get here? I wheezed, trying to feel myself breathe. Everything felt like I was stuffed with cotton. When my senses did start to return, I could feel how my stomach churned, and my lungs screamed for air. I hacked out a nasty cough, trying to clear my airways and get oxygen flowing into my head again. But it all still felt so numb. My arms shook beneath my weight, and I coughed and wheezed. Fuck it all burned. The feeling was so nauseating that I almost forgot about the ominous creature looming over me. Almost.

I coughed again, this time spitting out some blood. The sight alone almost tipped me back into insanity, but I craned my head up to glare at it, watching me with a mocking expression. I’m not sure actually, with the lack of facial features, I could only assume it took joy in watching me writhe. I tried to glare at it, but the pain made it more of a grimace.

“Don’t bother with the theatrics,” it drawled, its voice booming. “Brian was trying to get in the way,” it voice laced with displeasure. Brian… Hoody. I hope he was okay… Silence ensues us for a moment as he watched me recover from my state. “I am in need of a proxy with your talents, and the only options are to accept or die,” it stated.

“What-,” my throat burned, “what fuckin’ talents? I’m as normal as they come,” I tried biting back, though my body felt so fatigued. I could barely process that this thing teleported us outside of the cabin. We were now who knows where in the middle of the woods with the moon high in the sky.

“Your mental fortitude is impressive for someone of your caliber,” it stated. The way it stood so straight with no ceiling to stop it was unnerving. I didn’t realize just how tall this thing was. “Along with that, you have a unique ability to scavenge, to search.”

If I wasn’t lost before, I was now. What ability is he talking about? The only scavenging I’ve done was to grab supplies for the others. It seemed to read my mind again as it answered my confusion.

“Supply scavenging isn’t enough to showcase this ability, but I can tell. It’s all written in your psyche. Whether or not you choose to acknowledge it, your perception is better than most mortals. Ironic how you couldn’t perceive our eventual meeting.” It was most definitely mocking me. “Your talents are useful to the cause. If you agree to the role of proxy, I can enhance your abilities and make you a resourceful ally in our war against the creatures of darkness.”

My jaw clenched in frustration, I had half the mind to run away, but one stride of its legs would be enough to cut me off. Besides, running straight into the night with no protection was also not ideal. I was trapped, and it knew that. It makes a proposition like I had a choice but dragging me out to the middle of the woods at night was practically holding me at gun point. It didn’t help that I could hear the rustling of foliage and a distant growling of a beast, its voice echoing like the last creature Kate and I faced. My head whipped towards the noise to confirm, and I could see an animal covered in yellow eyes and shadow like coat prowling towards us.

“Choose,” he demanded, not making a move to remove the threat. “Die at the clutches of this pathetic beast or let me in.” Either path was a path to death. There was no winning between these two entities. What a cruel and twisted fate I have come across.

But only one choice would give me a chance to live. But would that choice really amount to life? A life of slavery for this creature? My window of opportunity was rapidly closing. The creature of darkness homed in on me like Slenderman wasn’t even there. It reared its hind legs ready to pounce, and from my position from the floor, there was no way I could dodge it entirely.

Without much warning, it pounced, and I rolled away. My back caught the brunt of the attack, its long claws tearing through my jacket and into my flesh. A searing pain shot through the wound. It felt like its claws were made of scalding hot iron. I grunted as I pushed off the ground, trying to get a defensive stance against the creature, but with no weapon in hand, my hands were useless. I didn’t have any extensive training against these beasts; I had no enhanced strength like Masky, nor could I outrun it like Kate.

Yield.

I grit my teeth in frustration. My body was still coming out of the stupor the teleportation had on me. Even standing on my feet felt tedious.

Yield.

It continued to chant like a metronome between my ears. This incessant and relentless creature. I scowled. Energy seemed to drain out of me rapidly. I couldn’t keep this stance up.

Yield.

The creature drew back on its hind legs again, getting ready to pounce, but this time I didn’t run. A wall was torn down in my subconscious, and I felt a rush of adrenaline course through my body. Everything became much more vibrant yet darker. Images sharpened and I could see highlighted points on the creature as it reared its ugly head at me.

What were these points? Weakness spots? And why is my body suddenly feeling so revigorated? All the fatigued washed away as soon as I stopped resisting.

There… a bright yellow spot just under its maw. It lunged at me, pushing off the cold ground with its claws out and jaw wide open, ready to deliver a killing blow. On reflex, my body crouched low, avoiding its pounce as it started to soar above me. I didn’t know my body was this flexible. With no weapon hand, I drove my hand up into the highlighted point, my nails and fingers digging into soft flesh. I was surprised when the muscles gave way, and I felt blood rain down on me. With no weapon, I jabbed my hand through its jaw and into its mouth. Momentum carried the body over me as it gave a surprised yelp, my hand sliding out easily as it fell. Once it hit the ground, I watched in shock as its body convulsed before lying deathly still.