Chapter Text
How dangerous it was to know that there was something in this world worth losing. Christopher Gibbs, after all, knew that feeling all too well.
His life was a living nightmare, but Chris still survived. Knowing that the reason he was here was gone and lost absolutely broke him to pieces. It left him feeling empty, as if a part of him had been ripped away. Tonight was another of those times when darkness threatened to consume him.
Chris lay on the floor of his second story apartment, music on blast at 3:04 in the morning, another unsuccessful attempt to drown away his thoughts. The carpet that he was lying on was beginning to feel itchy, but he had no energy to move. He just rested there and watched as the reflections of the moon on the lake shimmered and danced across his ceiling in time with the beats of the songs.
He almost didn’t notice the fact that his phone was ringing aside from the vibrations that caught his attention. Clumsily groping around to pick it up, he was met with the annoyingly bright image of his best friend.
“What’s up?” he asked, stumbling to his feet to head somewhere more quiet.
“Hey, Chris! Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” Asher’s exuberant voice always seemed to calm some of his nerves.
Christopher sighed as he crossed the living room to get some fresh air on his back balcony. Throwing the door open, he leaned over the balcony rails, the cold wind pricking at his bare face. “Nope. Just another one of those nights.”
He didn’t need to say anything more as his friend accepted his statement. Asher had a way of understanding him like no one else.
“Yeah, I figured,” Ash chuckled from the other side of the phone.
Chris laughed along with him, letting some of the stress that had been trapped inside of him leave with the chilly night breeze. “Why did you call anyways?”
“You know me, although I may be lying here as if my soul has already departed to the afterlife, my mind is racing over a hundred miles per hour…”
“What masterplan have you come up with now?”
“Nothing much, just thinking it would be nice to get away from this crappy campus tomorrow and hang out with the cool folks.”
Chris smirked, snorting audibly into the mic before wittily responding. “I’m sure we’re all dying to see you, ya dork. We totally didn’t meet up just yesterday, now did we?”
“I’m craving a good old garlic parmesan breadstick, Chris.”
“Obviously.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it set up around noon!” Asher stated, “Meet you there! G’night!”
“Good night, Ash,” Chris smiled to himself before the call hung up leaving him alone once again.
He let out a contented sigh, relaxing on the railing and studying the night view from his apartment balcony. Across the calming view of the city’s central park was where the taller buildings were situated, looming above the trees, but never obstructing the view of the distant forests.
In this city he was born and raised. It once felt like an open world yet to be explored but now it felt like a cage.
One aspect that made Cedarbrooke different from other cities was the fact that you could still see the stars on a clear day. Chris always assumed that this was the reason for the influx of creative travelers that decided to settle into the miserable small town in the first place. The stars were like sparkling gems scattered across the eternal, icy wasteland of a dark sky. It reminded Chris of the good days of his childhood when he didn’t have a care in the world.
Checking the time again, he realized that it was already 5 AM in the morning. Unfortunately for him, there was no point in trying to fit in some last minute rest. Getting distracted by the slowly fading stars was certainly not how he wanted to start off his day.
Silently cursing under his breath, Chris wandered back inside, starting to brew some coffee. He was going to need the extra caffeine, after all, there was another long day of work ahead of him.
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Unlike the others, Chris wasn’t going to bundle himself up in three layers of coats. Personally, he thought they looked ridiculous, rushing off to their early morning jobs looking like marshmallows. Everyone was so young, energetic… so naive. Compared to them, Chris was quite the opposite, nonchalant and downcast, just starting off another routine day of his boring life, too mentally exhausted to throw on more than a simple scarf. After all, like the rapidly approaching winter, Chris knew just how quickly someone’s life could get turned upside down.
The station wasn’t very far away from his apartment, maybe a mere twenty minutes, yet he liked to take his time on his way there. The route was directly through the central park which was generally uninhabited at 6:30 AM in the morning aside from the occasional stragglers and go-getters of course. It was truly serene, the first rays of the morning sunlight trickling through the branches of the leafy pines.
The city, by contrast, was quite the opposite. Though Cedarbrooke Heights wasn’t all that big, the city always seemed to be packed. Christopher remembered when he was a child, living on the outskirts of the city where the roads would transform from cement to dirt and the corn fields would stretch into the horizon. The orphanage lacked everything the city had to offer and that’s exactly what drew Chris towards it.
Like a Venus flytrap, luring him in before going for the kill, the city presented itself as a place of opportunity. He could follow his heart, achieve his goals and best of all have the freedom he had always fantasized about.
Initially, it was everything he dreamed of and more. However, this began to change when the Black Mamba took over.
It had all started with a snake. Not just any snake, but a single Black Mamba meticulously placed in the driver seat of an unfortunate victim's car. The murder had taken place less than five months ago and it marked the beginning of a new era for Cedarbrooke Heights.
The following week, the murderer gained his title. The Black Mamba was the first exciting thing to happen in the small town of Cedarbrooke in years.
From there all hell broke loose.
The cold-blooded murders were soon so common that everyone in Cedarbrooke began fearing for their own lives. The burden to catch the serial killer fell into the hands of the city’s only police department and crime headquarter. Chief Andrew Dalton had stepped up to the job, recruiting several new promising young officers to create a taskforce to take down the Black Mamba once and for all. Chris had been chosen to be one of them.
It didn’t take long for him to rise to fame among those in the department as the most skilled trainee at the time and he was soon appointed as the leader of the task force. That was the moment when his job took over his entire life. Day in and day out he would work, responding to scenes, collecting evidence, staying extra hours in an attempt to put the pieces together. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t catch the elusive Black Mamba.
But Christopher was not someone who would give up that easily. He had made a vow and nothing was going to stop him from destroying the Mamba.
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The department was bustling, but even through all the officers and detectives Chris was nowhere to be seen. Impatiently checking the clock on the wall every couple of seconds was not how Zelene had wanted to start her morning.
“He’s so tardy, when will he ever learn!” Ze threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “Whatever, I’m going to start without that idiot.”
She collapsed down into the bean bag chair den in the corner of the office uttering a growl of annoyance in the process.
Her partner chuckled from his spot at the desk where his pencil tapped on his chair. It was starting to get quite irritating and a not so subtle glare immediately ended his fidgeting.
“Sorry, just a habit!” Taj apologized, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
He quickly diverted his attention to fiddling with his badge instead. Sometimes Ze wondered how someone like Taj ever made it onto the Black Mamba task force to begin with. No one so kind-hearted, sweet, and shy should be part of such a gruesome game of catching a murderer.
Whatever the case may be, she knew that sitting in awkward silence was no better than her raging about a late captain.
“I’m calling it!” Zelene confidently exclaimed from her spot, brushing a strand of her short purple hair out of her face, “I bet we’re going to be summoned to a scene within the next ten minutes.”
“Five sounds more reasonable.”
Chris meandered into the office, shutting the door behind himself before taking the empty seat beside Taj. It took all of Ze’s mental willpower to prevent her from punching him in the face and she was almost certain by Taj’s concerned glance that he knew this too.
“That is the eighth time since this month started that you have done this to us, Chris. The eighth time in two weeks. That is fourteen days, may I remind you.” Ze slammed her fist into her cushioned lounge.
“Yes, thank you for that information.” Chris smirked, noticing how Zelene was on the verge of blowing up. Just in time, he unzipped his bag and slammed a document on the table, causing Taj to nearly fall out of his seat.
“Wh-what's that?” Taj desperately tried to recollect himself, brushing off his uniform, his bright blue eyes scanning the names scribbled on the parchment.
Zelene curiously made her way up from her spot with a loud groan and took a seat beside the duo. “Missing persons cases? We know where they’ll end up…”
“Unfortunately, that is true,” Chris agreed with a sigh, “I would say there is a slim chance that the victims will last another couple of days before ending up as another of the Mamba’s projects.”
“The police haven’t found them yet?” queried Taj, who was still immersed in studying the papers.
Shaking his head, Chris answered solemnly, “No evidence left behind, just straight up disappeared.”
“No patterns or abnormal behavior from any of them,” Zelene deduced from the reports, searching for any miniscule hint she could find. Beside her, Taj had gone back to his deep thinking too, finger tracing the writing, line to line.
It always amazed Chris how the three ended up in this mess together. A trio of twenty year olds meant to save the city from destruction. Such a heavy burden at such a young age. What exactly had it been that the chief saw in each of them?
The Black Mamba was smart, that was for sure. He knew how to erase his tracks, so well in fact that there seemed to be nothing that the task force knew about him. There was one aspect that Chris certainly knew. The Mamba was a human, just like each of them. And as humans make mistakes, the Mamba was capable of messing up too. He just had to keep waiting in hope for a single slip and pounce on the opportunity.
Suddenly, the office door slammed open, jerking Chris out of his thoughts.
“Squad, I need you to move out, we’ve had another incident.” Chief Andrew Dalton made his way into the room, patting Chris on the shoulder as his comrades ran to grab their tools.
“Sir, what are the details this time?” Christopher nodded, gathering his documents.
“Bench near an alleyway, 4th Street near the outskirts. As usual, the area has been evacuated, but no suspect is in sight.”
As usual the chief had been straight to the point, putting his complete trust in Chris and the team. It was like this every single day in the department, but despite their many failures Dalton never gave up on them. Unlike the rest of the officers that had resigned, stating that the Mamba was too elusive to be caught, the chief still had hope that he would one day end them.
“Roger that.” Chris slung his bag over his shoulder, watching as Taj and Zelene rushed outside to the car and hurriedly chasing after them.
“Officer Gibbs!” Dalton called from the office, halting Chris in his tracks.
“Sir?”
Dalton nodded, smiling in support and offering a small salute, “Go get ‘em.”
Returning the smile with a curt nod, Chris turned on his heel and headed straight for the heart of the crime scene.
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It looked straight out of a painting.
An unmoving man, legs crossed reading his newspaper, hat slightly tilted so it covered his lifeless eyes. A single bench under a lonely streetlight, the old cobblestone wall in the background. If it wasn’t for the eerie message carved into the wood and the fact that the area was now surrounded by flashing lights and tape, Taj swore that it looked so ordinary.
That was one thing about the Black Mamba. He was an artist. The victims were meticulously placed so that it seemed no different than a regular day of their life. From being inside a car, to sleeping in a hotel room, to sitting on a bench in the middle of a busy street. The Mamba was silent, but deadly all while hiding little easter eggs of gibberish at his crime scenes.
That was another thing about the Mamba. He loved Latin. Luckily for the task force, Taj liked Latin too.
“Cogito, ergo sum,” Taj mimicked the crooked text on the bench, “I think, therefore I am.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Zelene pondered from her spot on the cement. She furiously typed at the keys of her laptop, adding in this new piece of information to the hundreds of documents they have been collecting over time.
“It’s a philosophical phrase, I’ll give you that,” Chris sighed, tracing his pen over the carvings before pointing the tip towards the slumped over body, “Any idea what killed him?”
Taj snapped on his gloves and examined the man’s face before removing his hat. Thick blood dripped down his temple from a hole in the side of his head, making his blonde hair stained dark red.
“Bullet straight to the brain,” Taj announced, “Never went through the other side, so I suspect it wasn’t at point blank range. He must have stuffed the wound with something to stop the blood from spewing out like a waterfall, but we all know it only lasts so long…”
Ze winced at the idea. “Those were some unnecessarily gruesome details.”
“What? You asked what killed him!”
“Anyways boys, the victim has been identified,” Zelene stated. “35 year old Peter Sutton, no recorded family, his parents are both in the suburbs so send a team to deal with that. He has a part time job as a janitor at the middle school, but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary.”
“It’ll be a tough one finding someone else willing to clean those toilets…” Chris jokingly commented.
“Truly disgusting, don’t remind me,” Taj cringed at the memories of their times at the school.
Ze playfully punched Chris in the arm as she headed back to the car, “At least we ladies are cleaner than you apes!”
“Oh shut up!”
Just before he had made up his mind to murder Ze, his phone buzzed in sync with Taj’s.
“The Chaos Court is summoning us,” he announced, hands still full with examining the victim, “You got it?”
Chris nodded, opening his phone and scrolling through his messages until he got to the bustling group chat. The Chaos Court was the title of their friend squad which was fitting since the only thing that ever seemed to happen in it was pure uncoordinated chaos.
The Chaos Court 🔥
ASH 🖊️ : Hear ye, hear ye!
ASH 🖊️ : I summon you all to the Spice Garden Eatery this wonderful morning to indulge in breadsticks galore!
Neall: Your “breadsticks galore” are selling out fast, so you better get your butts over here ASAP.
ASH 🖊️ : Aren’t you supposed to be working?? :0
Neall: I haven’t been caught yet… 😬 I swear though I’m willing to quit my job at this stupid restaurant. They underestimate my pasta making skills.
ASH 🖊️ : DON’T LEAVE!! 😭 How are we ever going to get free breadsticks again???
Neall: Silence fool. I ain’t leaving just yet… At least not until I discover all their secret recipes…
ASH 🖊️ : 😂
✨Chrispy✨ : We’ll get there as soon as we are done on the scene 👍
ASH 🖊️ : Yay!! See ya there! 🎉
“I guess we’re going out for lunch then,” Chris relays to his partner on the bench.
In time to hear the announcement, Ze trotted back from the cop car bringing reinforcements. “Cool beans, I guess we’ll head out as soon as Taj finishes up. I checked the cams, but as per usual the footage has already been cut out. It freezes at 3 AM in the morning and cuts back in at 7, so who knows what the Mamba did in those four hours.”
“Yeah, committing manslaughter apparently,” Chris muttered, turning to the officers who were awaiting their orders. “You got it from here I suppose?”
“Yes sir,” came the joint responses.
“All done on my end!” announced Taj with a content smile, packing all his materials into his container, “I grabbed some swabs and samples to examine back at the department.”
“Perfect, we’ll swing by on our way there, let’s go team.” His two companions skipped up beside him and raced over to the car. By the time he had ambled over they were already buckled up and eyeing him eagerly.
“Hurry up old man!” Ze shouted, much to Chris’ annoyance.
“He’s only a couple months older than you.” Taj began to get defensive, “You can’t just say stuff like that!”
Chris listened to the bickering in the back and couldn’t help but long to join them. But he just couldn’t. After all, it was his duty to stop a serial killer, leaving no time for playing games.
Whatever the case may be though, he felt like working with Taj and Zelene helped satisfy a part of him that longed for that childlike spirit and he didn’t even try to stop the smile that made its way across his face.
“Onward to the Spice Garden!”
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The restaurant was quite a welcome change from the action packed crime scenes that Chris witnessed on a weekly basis. As much as he wanted to dedicate his entire life to solving this mystery, he knew that spending time away from the job was such a contrast to the grim reality of his daily life.
The moment the trio stepped through the door they were met with the mouth-watering aroma of the cuisine and also a wild Asher that seemed to appear out of nowhere and crush them all in a hug.
“What’s up squad?” Asher pulled the three cops into a rib-crushing embrace. No matter how many countless times Chris had warned him how much he hated hugs, Asher never listened.
Taj and Zelene headed over to the circular booth, the former offering a spot to the latter before engaging in small talk. The other two followed suit, finding a seat opposite them.
Chris placed his suitcase on the floor, picking a stray burr off of his sock in the process. “So, how are the classes going?”
“Boring like always,” Asher sighed, sprawling out onto the table, “All we do is study day in and out, learning about the same simple subjects over and over again! I’m just too tired!”
“Hey!” Chris joked, much to Asher’s disappointment, “It’s not my fault you have an 8am class and still decided not to get a wink of sleep last night!”
“Welcome, friends!” a waitress exclaimed, not even bothering to place down the menus at their table. There were many perks to being well known by all the staff at a restaurant. “Will it be the regular for today?”
“Yes!” Asher replied, offering the young woman a fist bump, “Thank you, ma’am.”
The low hanging lights emitted a warm, golden glow, contributing to the cozy atmosphere of the Spice Garden. Their corner booth had quite the view of the bustling restaurant, giving one access to glimpse both the ambient chitter chatter of some customers and the calm, serene silence of others. Somehow, Chris felt out of place.
“Neall’s been running around like a headless chicken trying to keep up with the demand!” Ash laughed, making an attempt to fold his napkin into a crane.
Chris chuckled to himself. Neall had been here for several years, working his way up the ranks. It wasn’t too long ago when they had the Spice Garden practically all to themselves. With what little they had of news reporters, they somehow managed to spread the word that the small Italian restaurant was one of the best in Cedarbrooke Heights. Not soon afterwards it was nearly impossible to find a seat, that is unless you were a regular customer there and got the VIP class seats.
“Chris! Hey!” Christopher was pulled out of his reverie by someone grabbing his arm. “You’re zoning out again. What’s up?”
“Oh. Just tired.”
He received a nod in confirmation, but somehow Chris didn’t think that Asher genuinely believed him. Luckily, a plate of steaming pasta slid onto the middle of the table, breaking up the awkward moment.
“Eat up, morons.”
Zelene playfully punched the chef in the arm, resulting in an overdramatized reaction as the young man clutched his injury.
“Ah, there he is!” she exclaimed, “The restaurant’s pasta prodigy!”
A confident smirk crossed Neall’s face as he took pride in the compliment. He brushed aside a long lock of dark hair that fell across his face in a way that Chris thought was slightly exaggerated. His stained and worn apron was a testament to his hardworking nature and determination in the kitchen.
Taj seemed to be contemplating something across the table. “Um… Neall? Aren’t you forgetting something important right now?”
Turning on his heel, Neall returns to the kitchen, weaving his way through the crowds. The swinging door clatters behind him, still barely moving back and forth when he returns bearing a basket of breadsticks. A wave of cheers welcomed its arrival.
“Thanks a lot, man!” Asher beamed before digging right into the dish.
Sliding right in beside Chris, Neall pulled the gloves off of his slender hands, stuffing them away in his pockets before snatching an appetizer for himself.
The group sat in comfortable silence, too busy chowing down on their meal to talk. Within minutes the breadsticks and pasta were nearly nonexistent.
Asher wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin before leaning into Chris, excitement evident in his voice. “So, how’s the hunt for the Mamba going? Any evidence? Another victim?”
Chris sighed, reaching for the third breadstick of the day. “Yeah, another one. We have some leads, but nothing concrete yet. We’re hoping for a breakthrough soon, though.”
“You know, it’s crazy,” Neall chimed in, brushing some crumbs off the table, “I remember when Cedarbrooke was just a quiet town. Now, it feels like we’re in the middle of a crime thriller.”
“More like a nightmare,” Ze interjected, mouth still full of food. “It’s not like we’re dealing with some petty thief. This guy is ruthless.”
Taj, who had been otherwise engaged in a conversation with his fellow detective piped in too. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that phrase the Mamba left on the bench. Cogito, ergo sum… Do you suppose there is a deeper meaning to it?”
“I doubt it.” Chris countered. “That lunatic is probably just messing with us.”
“What a jerk!” Asher scoffed in annoyance. Receiving no reply, he tried to stray from the harsh topic, “So, is anyone doing anything tonight?”
A few grumbles and shakes of heads.
Neall appeared to be in deep thought, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You know what? I suggest we do something fun.”
“I agree,” Taj piped in. Turning to Ze, he continued, “We’ve all been pretty stressed and busy lately, huh… When was the last time we had a movie marathon anyways?”
“Hell yeah!” Ze cheered, slamming her cup down onto the table, “movie marathon it is!”
Still facing the topic with slight trepidation, Chris decided to give them his opinion on the matter. “You know this sounds like a wonderful idea and all but have we figured out where exactly we are going to do this?”
“As a matter of fact, Chris, we have decided.” Neall boldly announced, grabbing Chris’ arm, “We are going to raid your apartment!”
His captive shook off the harsh grip before retaliating, “At what cost?”
Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Neall rummaged through his oversized apron pockets pulling out a pack of oatmeal raisin cookies.
“Will this do?” he asked, waving the sweet treat around so everyone could see.
Wearily sighing in defeat, Chris nodded his head much to the group’s delight.
Another half hour went by of playful bickering before the check finally arrived, discounted of course because of the regular customer perks. Chris, feeling like the only responsible adult in the group, covered the tab with a generous tip and not soon after they were all collecting their possessions to leave.
“You realize we won’t be back for at least another couple of hours, am I clear?” Chris had pulled aside Asher and Neall before their departure to give them a talking to.
Asher sheepishly scratched his head, “Oh Christopher, you don’t really believe that we’re going to break into your apartment, do you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do and I would love it if all of my crackers didn’t disappear for the second time this year.”
Looking shocked, Neall tried to defend himself, “Woah, slow down there! They were almost gone already! I promise you I just ate three of them.”
“More like thirty…” Asher mumbled resulting in a slap to the arm.
“Whatever happened back then, I don’t care just don’t let it happen again,” Chris went on, sending the twosome away with a curt nod, “See you tonight, don’t get yourselves into trouble!”
Meanwhile, Taj and Zelene sat in the backseat of the vehicle, leaning out of the window and watching on impatiently.
“Get a move on you douchebag, we’ve got places to be!”
Chris rolled his eyes, watching on as they rolled up the window all the way before breaking character as fits of laughter filled the car.
He walked around the other side, sliding into the driver's seat before starting up the engine and heading straight back to the department. Turning the radio on at top volume, Chris got a bit of enjoyment listening to his passengers screaming at him to turn it down. However, he simply chose to ignore them, focusing instead on the long road ahead of them.
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A map of the entire city spanned the entire office wall.
32 different murder scenes pinned and connected with bright red strings.
No killer captured.
As Chris paced around his office tracing the woolen strings with his fingers, he was interrupted by the giggling of his two partners in the background.
“Damn, you two have been awfully giddy after leaving the Spice Garden. Now would you like to explain yourselves?”
“Stop being so nosy, Chris!” Ze complained, still grinning from whatever joke had been brought up moments before.
Zelene had always been tech savvy from a young age. Chris remembered how she would tell him tales of when she broke into her dad’s laptop when she was 6 and changed his wallpaper to a picture of the family cat. Ever since then her talents became more and more apparent as she became invested in analytics and coding. This was never enough for her, however, and Zelene eventually settled on hacking. What started with simple game hacks developed into databases. Occasionally Chris had to stop and wonder how she even got let into the taskforce in the first place, but Ze truly was a valuable part of their team.
Taj on the other hand, had more of an interest in the solid evidence from the scene of crime. He preferred to investigate and explore, finding fingerprints and DNA. Taking the analytical approach to the scene, Taj used the evidence to make predictions (which were about 87% of the time correct) as to how the unfortunate victims had died. Chris remembers watching Taj’s talents grow after joining the department. He had known the boy since high school but often wondered how someone so timid and shy would be able to assess brutal murders every week. But Taj had always been hardworking and the more he learned, the more confident he grew and he really began to shine in those seemingly stressful moments. His boundless curiosity and positive vibes always calmed Chris down and the bond between them became all the more inseparable.
Chris had been too deep in thought to realize that peace and quiet had finally entered the office. The clacking sound of computer keyboards soon filled the room, making the silence a little bit more bearable.
Chris went back to his work, tracing the path of the Mamba and trying desperately to find any correlation between the sites. Through the countless times they had tried, it never seemed to work.
Although the places of the murders were so chaotically placed, the scenes themselves were always neat and tidy. The Mamba never slipped up, never skipped a detail, never left them any piece of evidence.
Taking another breath, Chris continued his search. He couldn’t give up yet, not when there was the possibility that the Mamba could leave any miniscule sign of mishap behind. After all, he had to be a human too, just like the rest of them.
Glancing around the room, he was filled with a sense of tranquility watching Taj and Ze shoulder deep in their work, immersed in their research. If they still had hope, he could too.
Here Chris was, on the cusp of another intense investigation, but also surrounded by people who grounded him and reminded him of what he was fighting for. He was doing this for them. He would never let the Mamba take away someone he loved. Never again.
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It all came together when the trio opened the apartment door and received a warm welcome. Glistening, multicolored fairy lights decorated the ceiling as their glow shined down upon the group. Several bowls filled with popcorn, cookies and other snacks were placed around the floor, just calling the group to devour them. Towering over them was the fort that both Asher and Neall had created from the blankets and pillows, obviously taken from their own homes since it was so humongous. The two smiled as they reclined on the fluffy cushions and hid behind the makeshift door.
“Ah, you made it. Welcome to our fort. It is the safest place on earth. Countless have attempted to enter but many have failed. Unfortunately for you, if you wish to join us, tortuous questions will be put to you, to which you must provide a sufficient answer. Are any of you brave enough to volunteer to go first?”
Chris and Taj were still awestruck, mouths agape as they stood there frozen. Zelene, however, had recovered a whole lot faster than the boys and took the challenge herself. “Bring it on!” she boasted rather confidently, “I’m ready for whatever comes my way!”
With a curt nod, Neall pulled his phone out from under the pillows and started scrolling. “Okay, first question,” he paused briefly to clear his throat, “Name one kind thing that one of us has done for you today.”
“Not including this awesome pillow fort we just created, of course!” Asher piped in, burrowing into the mountain of blankets.
This certainly seemed to throw Ze off as she struggled to think of something other than what stood in front of her. “Uh… well I guess Taj offered to get my food for me and gave me quite the generous portion of pasta?”
“Bingo!” Neall exclaimed, scooting closer to Asher to make some room for the new guest, “Welcome in!”
Chris didn’t miss the way Taj seemed to shrink into himself in embarrassment, his ears turning a slight shade of red.
Meanwhile, Neall and Asher glanced at the homeless duo outside, willing another brave soul to take a stab at the entrance ceremony. Chris knew that there was no way he was going next, so he playfully shoved Taj in front of him, throwing his friend into the spotlight.
“Umm… speaking of the lunch, Neall was the one who made us the food, so I guess that was kind of him, right?”
Asher opened his mouth to say something, but Neall abruptly cut him off, “And it was good, wasn’t it?”
“Best pasta in the world.” Taj confirmed.
Asher let out an exasperated sigh, calling Taj inside. “Just let him come in already, you moron!”
Glancing from one person to another, Chris hopelessly attempted to choose one good deed that they had done for each other. It wasn’t the fact that they hadn’t done anything, because they certainly had, but Chris appreciated every moment he spent with them. Just being there for him, letting him be a part of their lives was the kindest thing that they had ever done.
“Well, I want to thank Asher,” he finally announced, much to the latter’s surprise, “He was the one that set the lunch up for us and I know for a fact he had it all planned out since 3 AM this morning.”
“Damn, Ash,” Zelene judged him from her cozy corner of the fort, “Seriously, how are you not dead on the floor right now?”
“That is a brilliant question, one that I unfortunately do not have the answer to.”
Chris ducked under the draped blanket entrance of the fort, sliding into place beside Taj. He seized the moment of distraction and stole an unattended oatmeal raisin cookie from the bowl. Unfortunately for him, he was caught red-handed.
Neall took a flying leap at Chris, tackling him to the soft cushioned ground, all while violently snatching the treat from his hands. Zelene took the opportunity to slam a pillow into Chris’ face, sending him flying.
“Hey! What the heck was that for?”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Ze sneered sarcastically, “I didn’t realize it wasn’t a pillow fight.”
Before anyone could say another word, a stray pillow was tossed from the other side of the tent causing Ze to fling herself out of the way reflexively. Asher, sporting a wide grin of glee on his face, threw a blanket over his enemies face, pinning her down. “It’s too late now! I hereby commence the official pillow fight! FYI: Winner gets double cookies!”
The chaotic war cries filled the fort as one by one, Asher dominated them all.
“Hey!” Taj complained, throwing his weapon to the floor in defeat, “That’s not fair!”
Asher laughed it off declaring, “All’s fair in love and war!” He swung around his cushion, ready to defend his title.
Zelene, brushing herself off after the blanket ambush, narrowed her eyes. “Okay, that’s it. I’m coming for you, Asher!” She scrambled back into the fray, picking up a pillow from the ground and charging at him with renewed determination.
Neall was caught between laughter and the sheer absurdity of the situation. “Wait! We can’t have a pillow fight without rules! First rule: no tackling!” he shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the noise of screaming and flying pillows.
Taj rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning at the sight of Ze and Asher going head-to-head. “You guys are ridiculous,” he said, but he picked up a pillow too, getting ready to join the fray.
Chris, feeling the excitement surge, decided he couldn’t sit on the sidelines any longer. He picked up a pillow and aimed it at Asher, hitting him square in the face.
The fort transformed into a battleground, where soft projectiles flew through the air and echoes of laughter filled the room. In the midst of the chaos, Neall took a moment to gather himself. “Alright! Time out!” he called, raising his hands as if he were a referee. “Let’s establish some ground rules before we all end up at the hospital!”
Everyone paused, pillows suspended mid-air, eyes darting around for a potential advantage.
“Rule number one: everyone gets a chance to throw at the winner ,” Neall declared, pointing at Asher, who was still reveling in his glory. “And rule number two: no hiding behind the fort walls! This is a fair fight!”
“Fine! But no crying after I win!” Asher shot back, preparing himself for the onslaught.
“You’ll take that statement back after you’re the one who gets taken down first,” Zelene quipped, smirking as she positioned herself for a sneak attack.
Neall had a moment of inspiration. “How about we make this a tournament?” he suggested, “The last person standing gets to choose the next movie for our movie marathon!”
“Now that’s a prize worth fighting for!” Taj exclaimed, enthusiasm rekindled.
The room then erupted into a whirlwind of disorganized madness as weapons flew. Chris aimed for Asher but missed, hitting Taj instead. “Sorry!” he yelled, trying to stifle his giggles.
The laughter only grew louder as the fort began to feel like a live-action movie.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fallen soldiers and playful screams, the last two standing were Asher and Zelene.
With a flourish, Ze threw her final pillow, hitting Asher square in the chest. “Victory!” she declared, raising her arms triumphantly.
Ash fell dramatically to the ground, clutching his heart as if mortally wounded. “You may have won this battle, but I’ll be back!” he joked.
“Okay, okay, Ze’s the winner!” Neall announced. “What’s your movie pick?”
Zelene thought for a moment, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “How about a classic? The Princess Bride!”
Cheers and groans erupted from the group as Neall mimicked the famous line, “As you wish!”
Taj and Neall started to clean up, prepping for the rest of the night. After a couple of minutes were spent finding the missing remote and setting up the food, everyone settled into place and the movie started rolling.
Chris listened as the animated bickering died down and all his friends finally settled into comfortable silence. Chris felt truly grateful for moments like these—where, for a brief moment, he could forget about the nightmare and focus on what truly mattered: spending precious time with those he cared about.