Chapter Text
His foot tapped on the tiled floor with a tuk-tuk-tuk! as he waited for his break to be over, playing Minecraft on his phone to keep himself calm. It was one of those days that Clay just gets overwhelmed and needs to stop for a moment before he spirals. You could say this was his coping mechanism; playing a game where he could set a goal that he could easily achieve, plus, he could also listen to music at the same time as well as the sounds of the game itself which he considered was quite relaxing. It was almost peaceful. Almost.
Hissing a quiet "damn it!" as the creeper exploded near him, Clay exited the game right as the respawn button appeared on his screen. He clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Stupid creeper,” he muttered before turning off the device and resting his head on the wall behind him, face settled into a deep frown as he stared at the ceiling. His earlier thoughts now plagued his mind again and he grimaced, remembering all the things he needed to buy and accomplish for the new semester of his school year.
He knew he's going to probably—no, definitely need to work overtime now that they needed to make a prototype for his group's research project. That was the most expensive one, amongst other projects that they'll surely be assigned with by the other subjects. Not even just overtime, he’ll have to find other jobs he could do when he’s not working on the café. Sure, Puffy does pay generously but it wasn’t enough. (Will something ever be?) He'll also need to study more, otherwise he wouldn't be able to keep up with the rest of his classes and that means paying for summer class and that just won't do. (That also meant humiliation, even though he says he doesn’t care about what others think of him, Clay knows damn well that was just another lie he likes telling himself. He was supposed to be a role model, a good student, a great leader and a member to have—what will the others think of him once they see him fail?) That's not even counting the fact that he still hasn't sent Drista's allowance for the month.
Prime, what was he supposed to do?
He checked the time and his break was almost over, so he finally stood up—crash! His mind was jolted away from spiraling thoughts, startled at the sudden sound of glass shattering outside but quickly shook himself out of stupor and rushed outside.
The sound of people panicking greeted him, grating at his ears as they scrambled towards the exit. It seems that a hero and a villain have decided that the café gets to be their fighting ring today. Though it seemed that they weren't really one of the well known ones—which Clay considered is lucky, Prime knows how much more damage they'll bring to infrastructures around them. Granted, the government does pay for them, but still—
"Drop your weapon!”
In front of him lies a wounded body, gashes covering the skin of the villain, shown through the torn clothes. There was also the familiar red liquid dripping down from the villain’s ears. Huh, is that from the hero’s power or the villain’s? It’s probably the hero’s, something like an enhancing type. Either of sounds or the hearing itself. Usage of some sound enhancers explains how the glass panes were easily broken. It usually wouldn't break because Puffy purchased reinforced ones, knowing how often heroes and villains fight and how much they destroy things around them. Clay wondered what the villain’s power was as he stood there, unsure. Should he back away or..? He felt the gaze of the man turn to him and he could only sigh inwardly as he knew exactly what was about to happen—and just as he thought, the villain lunged towards him and he fought the urge to fight back. Playing the innocent bystander turned into a sudden hostage would definitely benefit him greatly. If he had been in a cartoon, the animators would draw his pupils changing into dollar signs with a cha-ching! in the background.
...There's definitely something wrong with him, he thought as he mulled over the idea that this was probably the best thing that had happened for the past few weeks he has been stressing over money. He should probably be more alarmed at the situation at hand, but if you’ve lived through a world where freaking hybrids and people with powers exist, you just learn to get used to it. And, well, he’s always been known to not really react much even in situations such as this, leaving them wondering why that is. He wonders too. (He was taught to. He was told to. Orders are orders and all he needs is to obey.)
"No, how about you drop your weapon, stupid hero?" The villain spat and Clay could feel the cold, sharp edge of the knife on his neck digging enough to make him tense a bit. Alright... He takes it back, it was definitely not a good idea to be used as a hostage, especially when the hostagetaker was an amateur one. The money that will be given by the government definitely wouldn't matter if he wouldn't be able to use them because he died from some amateur. Judging from what he had seen earlier, the build the man has is quite nice, though he could definitely take him down without much difficulty. (He’d taken much bigger people than that, hadn’t he? Had he? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t remember.)
"Drop the weapon now and let them go, Deathbringer! You'll only be making the situation worse for yourself!" Clay snorted at the name, 'Deathbringer'? Overkill much?
"What are you laughing at?!" Eyes wild, the villain—Deathbringer, apparently—dug the knife deeper into Clay's neck, nicking a bit of blood and making him wince a little. He doesn’t want to wash blood from his clothes. "N— nothing." As the villain focused on him, the hero acted quickly and Clay watched in a bit of awe—it always fascinated him whenever he saw someone using their powers or whenever he saw a hybrid with unique features. Others remark he’s like a baby who just saw the world outside for the first time. The hero raised his hand over to the lights on the ceiling and though he noticed nothing amiss, Deathbringer looked up instinctively and stumbled back. He covered his eyes with a startled scream before getting tackled down behind Clay by the hero. "You, Deathbringer, are arrested for destruction of property..." The hero barked at the villain, voice blending into background noise as Clay ducked down just before he got tackled as well, stumbling away from the two when a hand grabbed the back of his uniform, dragging him away from the scene.
"Clay! Are you alright?" Puffy's voice was filled with worry as she looked him over, checking his body for injuries. "Your neck!" He felt her lift his chin and he quickly covered his neck with his hand. "I'm fine, Puffy, it's just a small wound. It isn't that bad."
"Not that bad?! Let me see it and I’ll be the one deciding whether it’s bad or not.” She widened her eyes at him, giving him a look with pursed lips. “That villain almost killed you, kid!” Puffy added exasperatedly and Clay was quick to reassure her, offering a small smile, though it seemed that it didn’t work as much as he thought it would as the woman’s frown just became more apparent. "But he didn't, the hero got him. I'm still alive and kicking. You won't get rid of me that easily, Puffy." Puffy opened her mouth likely to argue more but was interrupted by a clearing of a throat beside them.
"Ehem, excuse me."
They both turned their heads towards the sound of the voice, a hero clad in a yellow suit. "Are you the owner of this shop?" The man gestured towards Puffy, in which the said woman nodded. "Er, yes. I am.”
"If we may talk about the arrangements to deal with the damages inflicted on this shop for a moment?"
"Yes, of course."
"And you, sir..?" The hero turned to look at him. "...Was-Taken. Clay Was-Taken." The man walked closer to them, holding his hand out for them to shake in which both did. "I am known as Synes, and as you can see, I am a trainee hero from the G.D. Essempi. We deeply apologize for the damages that have been inflicted in your shop. I am especially sorry for letting that happen,” Synes grimaced, glancing at Clay’s neck.
“...It’s fine,” Clay replied, ready to get the conversation over with. Synes? What kinda name is that? Danish for ‘think’, huh. So a mind-controlled power? That makes sense, he thinks as his mind replayed the way that the villain reacted to the lights as if there was something there. He saw an illusion, then, Clay concluded.
“It is certainly not fine, but go on,” gestured Puffy with a wave of her hand then crossing her arms after. Synes, looking chastised and ashamed, stuttered, “O—of course. Now that the villain has been apprehended, we’d be happy to guide you in getting your compensation as well as medical assistance.” The woman nodded once. "Good. Speaking of which, Clay, go get your neck checked first then." Puffy nudged him forward towards the hero.
"Ah, but you'll need to sign some papers—"
The woman narrowed her eyes at the hero, snatching the papers from the Synes’ outstretched hand, pulling out a pen from her pocket and quickly signing them before shoving the papers back towards the hero's chest. "There. Now get him checked, Synes.” The hero gulped, definitely not wanting to anger the woman more, he agreed. "R— right, of course, ma'am. Sir Was-Taken, this way please." Clay could only huff in amusement at the interaction before following the hero, not bothering to resist as he knows the worried woman wouldn't take no for an answer when it comes to the well-being of someone she cares about.
(He still wonders why he’s one of those, as far as he knew—which wasn’t really a lot because honestly, he feels like he had just started living four years ago with his memories for fifteen years nothing but a blur—he didn’t really do much to gain that much affection.)
The tap-tap-tap! of footsteps echoed through the empty street as he walked his way home. It was already dark out, the moon that was rarely seen nowadays where it was always covered by clouds shining above him, giving enough light for him to see where he was going. Stars were also twinkling quite clearly up in the sky, he noted in a bit of surprise. When you live in a city where skyscrapers and factories litter the place, you get used to seeing more grey from pollution than green of nature. He thinks it’s also rather ridiculous that even with superpowered humans and other creatures, they still haven’t progressed in a way that they wouldn’t be harming the environment anymore than they already did from the past—it’s getting way worse even. But then again, some of the weapons used by both villains and heroes alike are quite old, ranging from the Bronze age where swords and axes usage started to modern ones that the G.D. Essempi are still developing—courtesy of the rank three creeper-hybrid hero named Warden—which uses technology. Can’t they also focus on saving the environment? For a world full of heroes that seems bent on fighting villains, they do more destruction than actually bettering the place.
Clay kicked a pebble as he continued to trudge into the quiet night, scratching at the bandaid on his neck. He was glad that Puffy decided to close earlier today (Puffy hugged him tightly like he was going to disappear, he thought she wouldn’t ever let go, he remembered thinking it felt nice)—though it was technically inevitable because she told him that the installment for the new glass panes is scheduled tomorrow, and who wants to work with no freaking windows? That’s just asking to get robbed or other troubles again. Normally, the installment will be right away but he guessed that since the villains’ numbers were increasing for some reason—probably because of the government, honestly speaking, they’re just straight up shitty—that means more violence and destruction. That new faction called Las Nevadas which was rumored to be working with The Syndicate was also probably one of the reasons why, he deducted.
“Meow.”
Clay faltered in his footsteps, ears perking at the sound.
“Mworr.”
He glanced around the place, trying to find where the sound was coming from when he heard a hiss followed by some clang! as something seems to have crashed on the bundle of trash cans behind him. Hastily getting his phone out and turning its flashlight on, he went on to see where the cat was, worried that it might’ve gotten hurt. “Pspspspspspsps…” Carefully stepping away from the cans and other litter so as to not startle the feline, he walked slowly, making cooing noise. “Hey, kitty, kitty, where—”
…This is why he will never survive in a horror movie, he really should learn to mind his own business. But you can't expect him to ignore a kitty in need. That’s why Nick always teases him—‘looks nonchalant but actually cares a lot’, he says which then George always butts in with a ‘you’re such a softy, Clay’.
There he stood, frozen and unsure again. Hidden away from the rest of the world because of the accumulation of trash built almost like a pyramid was a small space that can at least fit a couple of people, maybe five. Well, it’s at least enough to fit whatever fuckery was in front of him right now. Maybe he should’ve just taken the offer of a free therapy session… He wouldn’t have been here if he just accepted it instead. (He had merely stared at the card he was given, the hero Synes said it could be used for a lot of things, even offering a psychiatrist he could consult with. It was of no use to him though, other than getting necessities for his sister and himself. He was given money for compensation which he was immensely grateful for.)
There was a creature sucking..? someone’s face. And (un)fortunately not in a kinky way at all. He guesses this is the appropriate time to say, as Nick would, ‘what the actual fuck?’ He felt his heart drop on his stomach at the sight in front of him for the second time of the day. The first time was just because of the anxiety he felt in having to actually confront someone and interact with others outside work-related things. (He doesn’t really know if he actually cares if he were to die; other than the fact that he has an obligation as a big brother, there wasn’t really much to live for, he thinks.)
Now though, he thinks he feels genuine fear. It looks something akin to a man, but... Moreso like those gargoyle-like vampire creatures in that Van Helsing movie that Nick likes to watch. Horns, claws... But instead of a snarling face, it was just a mouth. A big gaping mouth where he could see nothing but sharp teeth decorating the insides (it reminds him of those sea lampreys from the documentaries he used to watch with Drista)—he doesn't really know what to call it—it even has large, dark, bat-like wings protruding on its back. It looked terrifying. Normally, he would look at something like that in wonder and interest, but this…
Holy fuck. Just by looking at it was making his skin crawl.
He glanced behind him, careful not to let the creature out of his sight, opting to back away slowly and cautiously. He is not getting involved in whatever clusterfuck horror this was. Clay knows he was lucky enough that it didn't seem to hear him arrive at the scene. He took a quiet breath, steeling himself before lightly moving his right foot back. He would not be one of those people in horror movies (Nick likes to watch those and bring him with, and honestly, he doesn’t really see the appeal) who always ends up doing the most cliché thing ever where they take a step back and a branch snaps or something. Hell no, he was much smarter than that, thank you very much.
Good, good. Nice, quiet, and slow. Just a little bit more—
“Meow.”
The creature snapped its… head over to him and Clay quickly dove onto the side, scooping the feline that seemingly appeared beside him on the ground before the creature was on him. Scrambling to get back up, he rolled away from another swipe of sharpened claws, reaching his hand to grab something—anything to throw at the creature. Holding the cat protectively in his arm (he wonders how it had gotten there, but he tucked that thought away onto the back of his mind to think about later), he threw whatever it was his free hand got—a Monster can (hah, throwing a Monster on a monster) found its way towards its gaping mouth in which the surrounding teeth immediately closed on and crushed it. Clay threw another trash at it—a plastic bottle this time and its wings batted it away like an annoying fly, the creature letting out a piercing scream right after.
Oops, seems like it didn’t like the plastic bottle very much. Maybe the creature's an environmentalist, better than the heroes at least, he thought hysterically.
He might've accidentally tightened his grip on the cat he was holding as it let out a hiss and Clay felt a sharp sting dug into the skin of his arm. He let out a quiet grunt and involuntarily let go of the cat, watching it bound away from him, momentarily forgetting about the monSTER JUST RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM— "SHIT!"
He gasped out in pain as the creature's tail stabbed at his leg, pinning him to the ground. He didn't even notice it had a tail— "Gah!" He raised his arms up protectively as the creature raised its claws, bringing it down and burrowing it deeply into his skin that Clay couldn't help but cry out. The creature, it seemed, was very aware of the pain it was causing as it slowly dragged its claws on his arms, face, chest—fuck, fuck, fUCK, FUCK! IT FUCKING HURTS! He tried to push it away, but it feels like his skin was burning and he couldn’t help but let out a whimper as the tail twisted inside his leg before he felt it leave and instead—
(He felt his arms drop beside his head, becoming limp, as he continued laying on the ground. They just felt so heavy and red. Red? Very red. Everything was red. Except for his eyes. It was getting black. Grey? Dark. It was getting dark. His vision swam, black and white spots glittering in his line of sight. Right, of course, because of blood loss.)
—instead, he felt the sharpened end of the tail slowly pierce its way in on his chest, right where his heart was. A pained sob left his mouth, taking his breath away.
Oh, wow. He really is gonna die out here.
No, no, no, what about his sister? What about his sister?
"Meow."
His eyes, which he didn’t even realize he had closed, shot wide open. The cat! What about his sister and the cat? He needs to get up—get up, get uP, GET UP! His mind roared at him to move and he did. He raised a hand to grab the tail and pull it away from him—Prime did it hurt so bad—while also manoeuvring his uninjured leg so he could kick the creature off him. Clay heard the cat yowl before he felt the monster pulling away, screeching as if burned. He quickly got up as soon as the creature was off which he immediately regretted as his vision swam but he willed himself to stay upright, determined to save the kitty. He tried to stay awake, though everything was already blurry. Because of tears? Blood? Probably both. It was making it hard for him to see. He tried to wipe it with the back of his hand but he only got a glimpse of what was happening before his body started shutting down.
'...Wait. Are those tentacles coming from the cat..?' was the last thing he thought before everything fades—
—And Death welcomes Clay Was-Taken back into her arms, cradling his soul gently into the warmth of the void, like a mother holding her child.
He was home once again.
(It wouldn’t be long for her to let him go again, knowing the chains that ties his soul to this world.)