Chapter Text
Rodger was afraid.
He was always afraid now, small simmering fear when Gardenview first shut down expanding and swallowing him whole the more things went wrong. Things were always going wrong now. Blackouts and Ichor leaks and not enough tapes and too many machines to finish. Thank goodness he had his research. Knowledge was power, and the sooner he got to the bottom of all of these problems the sooner they could be fixed.
Quiet. Footsteps near. The droning husks with their outstretched arms, reaching out and grabbing greedily, an endless hunt through the ruins of Gardenview. He was safe. He was hidden. There had been times where they had stumbled upon his safe nook and he had to slink off to find another. The Twisted ones never lingered too long, something Rodger was infinitely grateful for. The machines would be finished soon and then he could come out of hiding and run to the elevator, but for now he had to stay put.
Toodles had found him once or twice and while it broke his heart to be stern with her, Rodger had to let her know the dangers of being exposed for too long. She always looked so afraid, but if it meant she ran and hid he would do it a thousand times over. This was no place for a child, and the fact that she was forced to partake in these excursions because of the circumstances filled him with disgust. All hands on deck, Dandy had said, the more the merrier and all that. Rodger hadn’t been the only one to protest Toodles’ involvement, but as the number of people available to go on supply runs got lower and lower he had no choice but to concede. She was so excited to help them out, beaming ear to ear and chattering eagerly to Rodger about how she finally got to join him on a case. He hadn’t seen her in a while, so she must be safe on the upper levels.
Safe… he was safe here. He had all the time in the world to go over his research, and Rodger was confident he was on the edge of a breakthrough. It became clearer and clearer the longer he stayed here, the sum of everyone’s work spiraling towards the grand answer that would save them from this mess in the first place. No more running from the distorted husks of their friends, no more rusted machines rattling as their knobs jammed, no more Ichor spilling out in sludgy puddles. Rodger would fix it. He would. He just needed to wait a bit longer. How long had he been waiting here? Surely the extractions would be over by now, but he hadn’t heard the click of a machine being completed or the alarms of the elevator doors opening. Were the others all dead? No, surely not, he would have heard. He was just getting antsy. Patience was one of a detective’s greatest assets.
The footsteps again. Far away, but he could feel them through the floor. They came periodically, the mindless patrol of a Twisted roaming the halls. They hadn’t come anywhere near his hiding spot in ages, though. He couldn’t jeopardize it by leaving, but if there was no one left…
Rodger hesitantly tried to lift his head to check if the coast was clear. Nothing happened. He tried again. His body still didn’t move. Panic struck him hard and fast. Why couldn’t he move? Was this the fault of a Twisted? No, no, no, he wasn’t safe, he was a sitting duck! He had to go, now!
Something shattered. Rodger gasped for air like a drowned man, clawing his way forwards on the cold floor. His body trembled as he pulled himself upright. Everything felt sore, but his legs were concerningly numb. No matter. He could still move. Yes, right around that corner was the open doors of the elevator! He could go home! A giddy laugh turned into a hacking cough as he stumbled into the comforting embrace of the elevator, yanking the emergency return lever down as he slumped onto the floor. He felt so tired…
The metal doors slammed shut, causing Rodger to jolt. He was the only person alive? The last machine must’ve been finished, and the unfortunate soul who did it must’ve been caught by the Twisteds on their way back. Who had Rodger come down here with? For some reason, he couldn’t quite recall who. Another person forcibly made to succumb to the Ichor’s embrace. Rodger would fix it once he got to the upper levels of Gardenview. All of his research- he couldn’t wait to share it! Yes, all he needed to do to achieve his big breakthrough was bounce his ideas off of the others. That had always helped him in the past, fond memories of exchanging theories with Brightney and Scraps helping him fix up a new corkboard bubbling up in his mind.
He waited as the elevator began its shaky ascent upwards, anticipation thumping in his chest like a second heartbeat. Gardenview Center was far from perfect but the upper levels were the closest place he had to a home in turbulent times like this. Food in his stomach, a bed to rest in… he hoped Toodles would have mercy on him today and let him rest a bit after this run. Metal rattled and scraped as the elevator went higher and higher, and at long last the door rumbled open.
Rodger blinked as he stepped into the main square, the whole place cast into disarray. The carefully trimmed trees and bushes had grown out of control, a couple half-hearted attempts made to prune them before being given up on. Litter was scattered about the area, crumpled candy wrappers and the adhesive on the back of bandaids carelessly strewn about. Many of the lights were dead or flickering, and dark splotches ate into the walls. If Tisha was here, Rodger mused, she would’ve had a heart attack on the spot. Then again, if it was this bad in the first place then she was gone.
“-all I’m saying is, that elevator has been on its last legs for a while. I think it might be gone for good this time.”
“So we only have one left now. Great.”
“There’s no need to be so negative, Shrimpo. I’m sure we can fix it up good as new!”
The voices of Poppy, Shrimpo, and Boxten drew closer. The need to run, hide, wait began to rise in Rodger’s chest, but he swallowed it down. Lingering nerves, that’s all. Maybe they could explain what had happened to Gardenview Center. He opened his mouth to speak when Poppy rounded the corner and saw him, dropping her toolbox in shock. Goodness, if that’s the reaction he gets then he must look worse than he thought. He can practically hear Glisten fussing already. “…Rodger?”
“That is my name, yes.” It comes out drier than he’d like; his voice rasps uncomfortably with the poor state of his throat. “What happened here? Where is everyone?”
“Poppy, whoever you think is there- oh, shit.” Shrimpo’s mouth falls open comically at the sight of him, fists raising soon after as he shoved himself to the front. Boxten squeaked, stumbling back. It’s almost like they’re afraid of him.
“I don’t understand, I don’t understand…” Boxten muttered, eyes wide and terrified. “How are you here? You can’t be here!”
“I took the elevator. Really, what has gotten into you all?” Rodger knows that nerves can get the best of even the most levelheaded Toons, but this is a whole new level. He took a step forwards, only to be repelled by a swing that thankfully didn’t connect with his face.
“Get back!” Poppy was brandishing a wrench at him, holding it akin to a baseball bat. Rodger backed up, holding his hands up in surrender. For a couple moments, they stay trapped in their ridiculous standoff. Poppy’s grip does not lessen, but she doesn’t make any further moves. “…What’s the last thing you remember happening?”
Rodger paused. Those memories were frustratingly hazy as he tried to untangle them, brow furrowing with concentrations “I had been sent on a mission with… with Cosmo, Yatta, Bassie and Flutter. We went very deep- Floor 23, if I recall correctly? Somewhere around that number. The Twisted ones drew close, so I hid… and then I came back here. I must’ve been the only one out of the mission to survive. Please, where is everyone? Is Toodles alright?”
The trio exchanged weary glances with each other. It was Shrimpo who finally spoke with a somberness that Rodger didn’t know he had. “She met the same fate as you.”
“She was the only one left? I have to see her, the poor girl…” Rodger’s heart seized with sorrow. Entire expeditions wiped out in one short timeframe must be devastating- why, it’s no wonder Gardenview Center has fallen into disrepair. His research! His research could bring them all back, it could, he just needed to see Toodles and tell her that everything was going to be alright. He tried to take another step, but Poppy swung once more. It was starting to get on his nerves. With a slight snarl edging his words, Rodger spoke again. “Where is she?”
“You can’t see her.” Shrimpo stomped defiantly.
“I’m her guardian. Of course I can.” Of all the times for Shrimpo’s stubbornness, now was not it. “Get out of my way before I make you.”
“You can’t see her! We’re the only ones left!” Boxten cried, eyes beginning to well with tears.
Rodger recoiled as if he had been struck. “What..?”
Poppy chewed her lip as if she was debating telling him this. The wrench shook in her hands. “Rodger… it’s been four months since you died.”
Died. The word echoed through his mind like a gong’s call. He laughed a little hysterically. “I can’t be dead. I’m right here.”
Shrimpo scoffed. “Just take a look at yourself.”
Boxten bowed his head, sniffling slightly. “The others told us what happened. You had finished extracting at the furthest end of the floor. Y-You were about to make it to the elevator when Goob pulled you back. You told the others th-that you would try to hold on long enough for them to retrieve you in another run.”
A distant ringing had started in Rodger’s ears. Yes, he remembered what had happened.
Clawed hands seized him, pulling him back. Rodger thrashed and fought but Goob’s grip was too strong. Yatta screamed. Five seconds to go before the doors slammed shut. “Trigger the emergency return! I’ll try to stay alive until another extraction team comes.”
Cosmo nodded, managing to heal him right before the elevator sealed off for good. Rodger got a kick off between Goob’s ribs, running as far away as he possibly could. There were far more Twisteds here than he could handle, and if Goob latched on to him again it would spell his downfall. He just had to wait it out. It had happened before with Teagan, where she had gotten grabbed by Squirm right before the elevator. An extraction team found them a day later, battered and bruised but still alive. She could at least heal themselves and was on an earlier floor… Rodger would have to hope that the items left behind would sustain him long enough for rescue to come.
He hid and he waited and watched as the Twisteds drew nearer and nearer, and then Pebble rounded the corner, jaws foaming with black spittle and Rodger knew he was a dead man. He still tried to escape; he owed it to Toodles and Glisten and Teagan and Brightney and everyone else to at least put up a fight, but it was a doomed effort and he knew it. The snapping jaws of Pebble drove him directly through Razzle and Dazzle’s domain, and even though he managed to duck one of Scrap’s hits Pebble bore down on him all the same, mangling his leg.
Rodger screamed as the Ichor pumped through his bloodstream, burning agony coursing through his veins. It swallowed his heart and spared no inch as it continued to march up to his head, where it took root and consumed him whole. It was then in his delirious haze that he realized it had begun to feel good. Something was guarding him, shielding him from the danger of the world as he slipped further and further away. He was safe now. Hidden. He just had to stay that way.
Rodger nearly threw up on the spot. He looked down at his hands- no, his claws, made for tearing through flesh and further infecting people, his legs, fused into an tail that he slithered on, leaving a trail of Ichor in its wake. And his eye… his eye cast a blazing red glow on the assembled group in front of him. Not a hiding spot- a trap designed to lure in unsuspecting Toons and punish them for being careless. Why didn’t he notice sooner? His mind, his greatest asset, so deep in the throughs of delusion that he didn’t even notice he had become a Twisted? But if he was Twisted he wouldn’t be able to speak rationally, wouldn’t be able to get to the elevator and pilot it back to Gardenview Center- God, what the hell was he?
His vision began to blur. Rodger needed to get out of here before he ended up hurting them, before they hurt him, everyone was dead, everyone was Twisted, four months like that, in that endless loop, had he killed anyone? Was it his fault that there were only three people left? Had he hurt Toodles? He needed to go; he needed somewhere safe-
Rodger’s Capsule clattered to the floor of Gardenview Center, leaking Ichor slightly. A safe distance away, the three Toons left behind stared at it as if it was a timebomb. Everyone was Twisted- and then Rodger had somehow crawled his way into an elevator and back of here.
Shrimpo blinked. Blinked again. Pinched himself. The Capsule was still there.“What the fuck are we going to do?”