Chapter Text
Gale never wanted to be the one in charge of watching the Rift under Mildread.
It had been a job designated to generations of the same family; strong men that held the line against the supernatural prison buried beneath their town. Only when the final member of the bloodline went missing down in the catacombs was it deemed necessary to volunteer the job out to the youngsters fresh out of their teenage years.
His name has been picked from a hat.
He didn't complain, even as his legs shook when he stood. He didn't complain as critical eyes watched him walk to the front of the town center. He certainly didn't complain when Mayor Haymitch tightly gripped his wrist and nearly yanked his arm from its socket, declaring him fit for the job.
A ‘ perfectly capable’ young man. Nothing like the guard responsible for the Rift thirty-three years ago.
They wouldn't be making that mistake again.
The crowd had chuckled at that. Gale had said nothing, even as a tightness rose in his throat.
The walk back to his house had been silent; a heaviness draped across his shoulders as he climbed the creaking steps to his quiet home. The door was unlocked just as he’d left it, knowing there wasn’t much to steal inside on the off-chance someone decided to break in.
Buckets of water were placed sporadically across the old wooden boards, wet spots in the ceiling slowly dripping down to strike the mirrored surfaces inside. It was akin to music in the long nights, a cacophony of drips marking each minute towards the morning. He usually didn't sleep much more than a few hours at a time anyways, so it kept him busy.
The stairs to the bathroom were crooked and hazardous, dangerously moaning from his weight as he dragged his feet up their slope. Gale shuffled inside, not bothering to close the door as his eyes roved over the space.
It was…dingy. Cracked tile lined the floor, leading to an old, porcelain clawed-foot tub. A sink and a toilet sat opposite of a barren curtain rod, empty save for a hanger that swung sadly back and forth from a breeze leaking through the drafty window. A simple blue dress hung from it, discolored stitches from repairs lining its seams.
Gale climbed into the tub and leaned back, shoes, clothes and all. The back of his head rested against the edge, eyes staring straight at the ceiling before drifting over to the article of clothing. His fingers reached up to tease the skirt, the fabric waving back and forth as if in greeting.
…He’d be taking up his new job at the Rift tomorrow night. It was his duty to fulfill, fair and square.
He’d have to put all of his energy into focusing on it. He couldn’t risk any slip ups, or else Mildread would be doomed. It would be grueling, staying up every night, all night for a week in the catacombs beneath town.
Alone.
…But he was a strong, steadfast young man, perfect for the role. He could handle it.
His eyes were still locked on the dress, lips trembling before he was able to reel it back in.
…He retracted his hand, pulling it back to lay across his lap with a deep, shaky breath. It would be a long, long night of preparations to make sure everything went right.
The lantern he’d been given squeaked as it swung forwards and back with each step. He was sure rust would be coloring his palm the moment he was reintroduced to daylight; The gritty feeling making his nose wrinkle.
Pebbles rolled under foot in the soft soil, pillbugs and centipedes scurrying across the catacomb path. Given the Thirty-Three year gaps between events, the Catacombs didn’t see much traffic aside from stupid teenagers hiding away to drink and make dares.
Gale counted the support beams as he passed underneath them, trying to ignore the rotting wood that could snap at any minute. A cold breeze slapped him across the face as he passed underneath the thirtieth, dipping even further as he trudged past the final three. Dirt transitioned into set stones akin to cobble, his leather heels thudding against the rock.
It wasn’t long before he came upon his post; a doorway carved from the surrounding rock. Pillars were drawn from the stone, framing a dark, glossy entrance that betrayed nothing of its contents. Gale leaned against the nearest pillar, setting down his lantern at his feet and dusting his hands of the grime. He’d brought a package of things to keep him occupied during his shift, small things that would help the passage of time but wouldn’t be enough to distract him fully from his duty.
He pulled a bundle of wax paper from his pocket, unwrapping it to reveal a hunk of cold cornbread. It was about time to settle in for the long haul.
It was approaching midnight, the wrapper heavy in his pocket as he fiddled with the harmonica he'd brought. Gale blew a solid, lonely note before working his way up through the C major scale.
C~,
D~,
E~,
F~,
G~,
A~,
B~,
C~
He closed his eyes as the sound hit his ears, focusing on keeping each breath steady. He began sliding back down the scale again, unaware as an electricity slowly began to build in the air.
C~,
B~,
A~,
G~-
Small slivers of light began to spark from the Rift. He didn’t notice.
..F~
E~
D~-
Just as he had been preparing to hit the final note, a wave of pressure overflowed from the doorway, causing him to stumble. The Harmonica hit the floor, clattering against the stone as he was knocked from his post, kicking over the lantern and extinguishing the light.
Not that he needed it at that point anyways. A crack had formed in the glossy finish of the Rift’s mirror, spilling warm golden light over the inside of the tunnel. As Gale watched, the crack widened and spider-webbed across the surface, a sound akin to shattering glass echoing around him as it grew. The hairs on his arms raised as another pulse of energy slammed against the barrier. He hunched over, covering his face, his hair whipping with static.
..and then it went still.
He peeked through the gaps in his arms, the yellow glow washing over his face.
It was….beautiful…
Ethereal. Like a doorway into heaven…or what he imagined it would be like. There were shapes wisping about behind it, darting here and there, just behind the electric surface of the Rift.
Nothing about it screamed danger. There were no beasts beating at the doorway behind it, nor were there voices taunting and mocking him like he had expected.
He crawled forwards on his knees, leaning back as the air seemed to push him from the barrier. Gale’s eyes gleamed, enraptured. Something about it spoke to him, something deep within his heart, pulling and tugging and clawing at his insides.
Before he could stop himself, he reached out and touched it.
It was like touching a live wire; the veins in his arm lighting up like the edges of a controlled burn. He yelled, trying to let go, but the Rift refused, hugging onto his fingers and trapping him in place. He could feel the pump of his heart spreading the energy around his body, down his legs, up his neck and out through the tips of his eyelashes.
Gale could smell burning hair, his teeth gritted against the electricity using him as a conduit. Only barely could he focus on the sight in front of him, shapes becoming more solid behind the glow before they pushed through, shading his face from the golden light.
They were panicked, multiple voices muffled against the thrumming in his ears, a rush of bodies pushing past him as they scrambled up the tunnel from whence he came.
He couldn't wrench himself away, something surging beneath his skin like a lightbulb ready to shatter. It was beginning to hurt; something within himself straining against the bones in his chest, threatening to explode. He was, He, he couldn't, couldn't even-
Something large slammed into him, knocking him free from his grip. It was soft, landing heavily on his chest and pushing the air from his lungs as it settled, latching onto his shirt with needle-like fingers.
Gale's vision spun dangerously, the deadly current from before settling in the core of his chest, pulsing with each beat. He struggled to stay awake, his head throbbing with pain. He didn't know how long he laid there before the mass on his chest stirred, shifting pressure from different limbs prodding into his sore body. He tried to ignore it.
“...Our hero awakened in the familiar passage beyond the Rift, dazed and confused. The air smelled like Ozone, racing up their spine unpleasantly as they blearily realized just where they were.”
Talking. Something…Someone? Was talking.
“ ‘Thespius?’ He called out, listening for their partner in rhyme…but alas, he realized he had been left alone…well…aside from…”
There was a small gasp. Something leaned forward, blurry in his vision, its visage as pale as a sheet.
“ Attempting to wake them from their dazed state, The beast gently slapped the cheek of what he presumed to be his warden. ‘ Hello?’ they asked, awaiting a response.”
There was light papping against his face. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. The light from the Rift swam underneath his eyelids, striking a drum against his skull.
“ ‘ Oh dear…I didn't mean to….argh! What would Thespius do?’ the parasitic narrator lamented, pacing back and forth across the near-corpse below their feet. ‘I can't remember…what was that newfangled practice? See-Pee-Are?’ they intoned incorrectly. He rubbed at his temples, trying to remember the steps before-”
Gale faintly felt, rather than heard the grumbling of the creature's stomach. They stopped moving, sitting up on what he would have guessed were hind legs had he been coherent.
“ ‘...Ah…I knew I should have taken up Thespius' offer for a snack earlier…’ the ex-journalist sighed.”
There was a pause of movement and sound for a moment, before the creature shifted on Gale's chest.
“ ‘...Surely, a little bit wouldn't hurt. After all, it's just going to go to waste anyways….rotting down here…’ he muttered.”
The weight left his body, claws against stone clacking in his ears. His arm, dead weight from the onslaught of the Rift, was lifted and twisted in the tiny grip of….four hands? There was the sound of tearing fabric, and suddenly Gale could feel soft, padded palms against his bare skin.
Alarm stirred and rolled over in his mind. The thing was doing…something…but focusing on it was becoming increasingly difficult. There was a nudging sensation at his bicep, short bursts of hot air tickling his arm hair. Gentle.
It was enough to soothe the worry in his concussed brain. As his awareness fell into darkness, he swore he could feel something… small, needling pinpricks fading into numbness as his senses died with the pain.
Something wet was lapping against his arm.
He wasn't quite sure how long he'd been out; the flickering of the Rift dancing behind his eyelids made for a poor indicator of time. He wrinkled his nose, a pained grunt slipping from behind his teeth.
He tried to raise his head, squinting open his sore eyes to get a good look around. The Rift still glowed before him; just as entrancing as it was before he had touched it, and yet he knew he wouldn’t be falling for its glamour again.
Gale moved to drop his cheek to the floor, hoping for a few more good moments of respite. The consequences of his actions flitted above him like chirping canaries, all screaming at him to get up and panic, to rush from the tunnel before things could get any worse…but he couldn't bring himself to stand past his discomfort quite yet.
A few more minutes was all he needed. Just a few more minutes before reality crashed into him like a wave.
A few more minutes.
…Something was still licking his arm. Wet and warm; it numbed the skin, the effect spreading slowly up into his shoulder.
Gale groaned, disgruntlement finally forcing his hand. He turned to get a good look at the culprit, expecting a scavenger of some sort that had wandered in after him on his way down to his post, mistaking him for dead.
What he got was far more surprising. The beast lapping at his skin was far larger than anything he had imagined; it was akin to a medium to large-sized dog rather than a scrawny coyote. Its face was strange; a black tongue flicked from a pursed mouth shaped into a ‘y’, the rest covered by some sort of bony plate slid up onto its forehead.
Long, fluffy ears dangled behind it, draping across its large, muscular back. The beast reminded him of a rabbit; the kind he'd seen paraded around in fairs…soft and domesticated as human pets.
Four claw-tipped paws gripped his arm, holding it in place as it continued about its business. Looking closer, Gale could almost see what he thought were three perfectly circular wounds left on his flesh; set an equal distance from each other in a triangle.
His opposite arm drew up, slowly creeping over towards the back of the thing's head. If he could just grab it, then he could stop it from bolting up the tunnel.
The creature stilled mid-lick, its tongue hanging from its mouth. Almost comically, Gale watched as its head turned to meet his eyes, the plate on its forehead sliding down across its face with a ‘click’.
Two large, round eyes blinked open from behind the holes on the surface, flicking to the arm still raised and reaching for it.
It let go of Gale, already twisting its body to flee. He swung, grabbing a fist-fulls of its scruff and pulling his body upright. Numbness tingled from the wounds that had been left behind from the beast, creeping down into his fingers as he struggled to drag the thing closer.
It yelped, twisting across the stones. One of its broad feet kicked out behind it, nailing Gale in the mouth. He could feel its claws nicking his lip, the strength behind the movement sending his already aching head spinning.
He climbed to his knees, gritting his bleeding teeth as he dropped his chest over the back of the monster, both hands still buried in the loose skin around its neck.
“ ‘ -Please!! P-please! You don't have to do this!’ Click cried, thrashing with all his might, trying to appeal to his assailant’s humanity.”
Its words gave him a moment of pause. In response, it continued to speak, desperately trying to sink its claws into the stone.
“ ‘I can't be alone in there! Please, I can't stand being alone, I just can’t!’ Being separated from the others already stung, but potentially being locked away by his lonesome for a foreseeable eternity was even worse. ‘If you put me in there, the Rift might close!! You…you don't want that, do you?’”
Gale stopped. Despite the obvious trap it was trying to lure him into, it had a point…
If the Rift closed with only one monster inside, then the others would be allowed to terrorize Mildread. He'd doom them all.
…But if he managed to round them all up before anyone took notice, the town would be safe. Nobody would be any the wiser.
How he'd be able to do that on his own, he had no clue, but he had to try.
Using his entire bodyweight, Gale continued to pin down the small beast, wincing as it once again struggled to remove itself from his grip by kicking him swiftly in the ribs.
“ ‘ Please!! Please, I can't!! I can't go BACK-!!’”
“ -Shut your pie-hole!” He snapped. It froze underneath him, eyes wide. He could feel its heart fluttering underneath his own.
“..Jus’- Shut. Up. Y'not going back yet.”
Using the opportunity, he reached up towards his collar, sharply tugging open the buttons and pulling his shirt from his lithe form. The static in the air moving across his exposed chest made him flinch, but he couldn't hesitate now.
Gale threw the ruined garment over the beast, snapping it tightly over its limbs before it could resist. He quickly tied it into a sloppy swaddle, its dangerous legs unable to kick him from within.
“ ‘ You…you’re not letting me go? B-but you said-’”
“ I said you weren't goin’ back yet. I didn't say you weren't goin’.”
He sat back on his knees, crossing his arms over his front as he looked over his work. There was barely enough material to keep the thing contained, but thankfully it seemed to hold. He climbed to his feet.
The beast struggled in the swaddle, paws pressing against the inner fabric as Gale bent down to pick it up.
“ If you don't want me t’ turn around and toss you back in there, then you'll stay still and keep y’er trap closed.”
It seemed to contemplate his words, its pupils darting away from his pointed gaze as it swallowed and nodded. He grunted as he picked it up; its weight made him teeter as he took the first step back up the tunnel. Holding it against his chest made him feel a lot better about being exposed…but he would be grateful to replace his shirt as soon as he reached the safety of his home.
“ Get in.”
The beast, or ‘Click’ as it called itself, pushed back against the tight hold on its scruff.
“ Click Clack was appalled at the suggestion. ‘ A closet?!? I'm not an animal!!’”
“ Yeah? Well, 'm not having you kill me in my sleep. It's either this or the Rift, buddy.”
Gale used his other hand to press against the creature’s bottom, slowly scooting it across the floorboards. Its claws dug in, trying to stop its movement and leaving deep gouges in the wood.
“ ‘But it's dark in there!’ They lamented. ‘ And what am I going to eat?? Lint??’”
The young man pushed with all his might, earning another few inches for his efforts.
“ I'll throw an apple in there or something. Rabbits eat those, yeah?”
It looked enough like a rabbit that it probably translated over. Probably.
It opened its mouth to protest, only to lose its grip and tumble face-first into the small room. Gale took the opportunity to slam the door shut behind it, turning the lock before it could try to escape.
He stepped back and watched as the knob turned pitifully a few times, before little claws poked from underneath the crack in the door. He could hear it beginning to scratch at the back of it.
“ ‘You can't do this!! I'm not a monster, I swear!! Please, let me out!’ ”
Gale ignored its cries, turning to climb up the stairs. His whole body ached, the numbness from before having worn off on the trek back to the house.
He had to get onto capturing the rest of them ASAP, or else they'd all be sitting ducks.
As he passed by the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of the blue dress still hanging on the curtain rod. He tried not to imagine the way the light, soft fabric would feel against his bruised chest.
…Right. He still needed a new shirt. Sharply turning away, he quickly made the journey to his room. All he needed was another shirt, and he'd be good to get back to planning.
He only had a week, after all.