Chapter Text
“Lampert, I don't know what's wrong with me. I keep getting worse, and I'm starting to hear and see things… There's this weird ass carpet thing that keeps following me around. I dunno, just.. can you come over? Please?”
Lampert listened to the audio message again and again, maybe wishing it would change somehow. Or maybe that by listening to Kasper’s voice, he would understand what he did wrong.
It had been months since he went to Kasper’s apartment. Months since Kasper and him had talked.
He still got cryptic messages from Kasper time to time, but the thing that was talking to him wasn't Kasper. It couldn't be. He knew how Kasper acted, how he typed. This wasn't him. He was sure.
He felt guilty. It really wasn't his fault, but for some reason he felt like he was to blame.
If only he made Kasper get a couch from Rokea instead, or if he hadn't come over on that day at all. If the couch didn't break. So many possibilities.
So many things that could've happened.
But they didn't.
That's why Lampert was still sitting up in his hideout listening to Kasper’s voice, over and over. He just wondered how Kasper was doing. Maybe he should visit him sometime.
Lampert would never visit him. He knew that. But it's nice to imagine what they would be doing of things were different.
Maybe Lampert could've even stopped this from happening in the first place if he knew what would happen beforehand. If he just went back in time to change what would happen.
He could've told Kasper he was busy that day, or just asked him to go somewhere instead of just playing video games at Kasper’s house. Anywhere but there.
Maybe Kasper wouldn't have hated him then. But friends grow apart. And that's okay.
...Everything will be okay.
[KASPER POV]
Kasper stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. Was this even his face anymore?
His skin had taken on a more dull tint, and his nose was oozing with pink.. liquid. He didn't even try and stop it anymore. Tissues were scattered around his apartment from when he attempted to get his nose bleed under control. He had failed.
He was starting to feel weak, probably from all the blood loss. If this was even his blood in the first place. Kasper wasn't that smart, but he was pretty sure blood wasn't usually bright pink.
Maybe it is, he doesn't know
Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Poptart in a while..
His cat was usually always near him, snuggling close on cold nights and laying around his feet while he napped, But now, Poptart was just.. gone. Kasper was sure he hadn't kept the door open and let Poptart escape. Maybe Poptart was just hiding somewhere.
A few days after Kasper started to feel sick, this weird gradient rug started appearing all over his apartment and just staring at him ominously. He called the rug ‘Unpleasnt’ because whenever Kasper saw it, he felt unpleasant.
Ha ha. Funny, right? Laugh. Now.
His electricity had went off a long time ago, and his phone had been dead for weeks. Since Kasper had been sick, he hadn't gone anywhere at all, and that included going to his mailbox to get his bills so he could pay them.
Everything in his fridge was rotting since his fridge wasn't powered anymore. Which obviously led to everything getting warm and sticky. He couldn't even go into the kitchen anymore because of how bad the stench was, but Kasper didn’t feel like cleaning it out just yet. Maybe in another couple days.
…Hopefully.
Since his kitchen was a nuclear wasteland, he’s been having food delivered to his apartment for what has seemed like an eternity. Kasper did have to admit, he ordered food a lot when he wasn't sick, but now that he was, he didn't feel like he had the energy for anything.
His money was slowly twindling, and soon he wouldn't have enough to buy food at all. But he didn't need to worry about that right now.
Kasper sighed, looking in the mirror one last time before dragging himself back to the couch. He laid down, his body feeling weak and tired. He didn't even do anything again, just sleep.
Or at least he thought he was sleeping.
For a while now, Kasper had been getting gaps in his memory. Sometimes he thought he fell asleep on the couch, and when he opened his eyes again, he was standing in the elevator to his apartment. It was strange, but Kasper didn't want to worry about it too much. He was probably just sleepwalking.
A throbbing pain grasped his head, making him tightly close his eyes. God, not again. When would he get better? Would he even get better? Would he be trapped like this forever until he bled out onto the ground?
Okay. Let's not think like that.
Kasper just wished he could message Lampert, to tell him that he's okay. Kasper was actually surprised Lampert hadn't stopped over. Kasper had even sent him a voice message, and still, nothing.
Well, actually, Kasper did remember Lampert coming over at one point, but it all blurs together…
He should probably get some sleep. That would be good for him.
Kasper closed his eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his head as he drifted off to sleep.
Tomorrow, he would hopefully be better. Then he would go and find Lampert. That's what he would do.
Tomorrow.