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The dim light of Mumbo’s flashlight was practically useless in the thick woods, a wind whistling through the limbs, leaves shivering from the breeze. Footsteps crunched against dying grass as Mumbo treaded forward, using the guide of the light to hopefully find his way back to the outskirts of the city, and his humble little cottage.
He had no true intent to be inside the forest, especially not at this time of night. He had been warned multiple times by Grian that it wasn’t a good idea, heading into the woods with wildlife that would kill. Mumbo took his friend's words lightly, but something still called out to him from the deep forest. Perhaps Mumbo just enjoyed the idea of an adventure, traveling through spaces he was unfamiliar with, exploring horizons of trees and bushes, even the smallest critter that jumped from leaf to leaf.
Tonight, Mumbo lost track of time, something that occurred too often thanks to the memories of his continuous scoldings by Cub.
Scar had even nicknamed him “always late Jumbo”. It wasn’t even a clever nickname!! His excuse? “Nothing else rhymes with Mumbo or Jumbo!”
Mumbo sighed at the thought of that memory, running a hand back through his now messy black hair. He’d rather not have to think about his annoying coworkers… except for one.
Grian was definitely the best out of his coworkers at Convex. Sure he was quiet, but he listened, and always seemed to know just what Mumbo needed. It was like he could read thoughts, or being distant helped him to pick up on cues and body language, things that Mumbo quite frankly sucked at! Mumbo found himself thinking of his friend often, enjoying the time they spent together no matter the length. Whether it was short coffee runs in the morning or relaxing invites at Grian’s house, Mumbo relished it all.
Unfortunately the sun wasn’t shining, and now Mumbo would prefer the warmth its rays gave over the chilling wind that sent a shiver down his spine. He had been walking for a while now… was he truly lost??
And just when things couldn’t possibly get worse, Mumbo’s flashlight begins to flicker on and off, the dim light fading completely. Mumbo halted his steps, pressing the button multiple times before groaning, a small cuss leaving his lips as he moved to shove the now extremely useless flashlight into his pocket.
He suddenly heard a crunch, dark eyes gazing at the perimeter of woods he could no longer make out. Must’ve just been the wind… he convinced himself, continuing the path ahead with unsure footsteps.
Another crunch flooded into Mumbo’s ears. It was just him walking! Why was he getting into his head? Was the fear of what the dark enveloped finally crashing down onto him like waves? He wouldn’t say it was true! He had been in these woods dozens of times, and not once had he seen a deer or bear or anything that massive!
Crack.
Mumbo paused, giggling awkwardly to himself. Oh he probably just stepped on a stick, gazing down at his feet, freezing in place at the realization.
There was no stick.
Something was following him.
“RUN.”
Mumbo’s brain screamed at him as he took off, slender legs giving him an advantage, his wide strides growing faster as he ran through the woods. His adrenaline had spiked, heart beating so loud he could hear it through his ringing ears, attempting to listen as his footsteps doubled in sound. Something was chasing him, and it was loud, quick, and trying to slaughter him.
Mumbo’s vision started to blur as his adrenaline forced his body into overdrive. Breaths became harsh as the cold reality that this was a life or death chase set in. The woods were blurring together, trees forming into one another as the forest transformed itself into swirls of different shades of green.
It all came crashing down as Mumbo’s foot was caught on a log blocking the path to escape, tripping over as he hit the ground with a hard thump, gasping loudly as he heard the footsteps ringing in his ear. He was the prey in the chase, and he has just been caught.
Mumbo was frozen. He couldn’t move, hesitating for far too long as an immense pain seethed its way into his shoulder, teeth gnawing into skin and tearing away at Mumbo’s suit, the strongest stench of blood filling Mumbo’s nostrils, adding in to the already overstimulating environment. Whatever creature had just gotten a taste of him, wouldn’t finish the kill… as Mumbo kicked back with rough boots at the large figure, grunting and hissing in pain and agony.
He took the chance to escape again while the beast was stunned, a hand failing to stop the bleeding from his now red shoulder, the scent intoxicating as tears welled in Mumbo’s eyes, his breaths heavy as he could feel exhaustion taking over the now draining adrenaline. In his last attempt he screamed, a noise so blood curling it sent chills to anyone who managed to hear it.
He got lucky, so damn lucky as he collapsed just outside of the woods, grass painted red as Mumbo’s blurry eyes stared at the starlit sky for what he thought would be the last time, a tear rolling down his cheek as he closed his eyes.
————————————
Grian couldn’t sleep, insomnia keeping his mind wide awake as his hand worked on another one of his projects, a small lamp the only light on in his comforting home. It was often that Grian stayed up this late, his thoughts too much to drift into a peaceful daze, taking the opportunity to catch up on work for his job. It was no worries anyways, he could always get coffee and even ask Mumbo to come along.
Grian hummed, sitting down in his chair, the wheels rolling back from the force. Grian had opinions on Mumbo, all good… of course. He enjoyed Mumbo’s company greatly and his awkward interactions. Mumbo reminded him of the lamp currently shining in Grian’s room, a bright spark of light in a quiet, dark place. Mumbo was that light in Grian’s days, the sun to his sky, and truly, Grian enjoyed him greatly, maybe even as more than a friend.
Oh but that was ridiculous to think about. They were such opposites, no connection between them. Being friends was probably the best case scenario. Besides, Grian would hate to ruin his friendship with Mumbo, or even consider his own feelings.
Sighing loudly, Grian attempted to distract himself from his lovesick thoughts, his hands stirring back to work until he heard that disturbing scream, flinching so hard his glasses nearly tipped off his nose. What... was that. That wasn’t normal, no good human being would ever dare to scream like that. It wasn’t some sort of horrid prank, and what’s worse, the scream sounded too familiar.
In a panicked daze, Grian quickly draped a coat over himself, sprinting out of a wide open door towards where he heard the scream echo, hustling towards the thick woods as he saw a figure just on the outskirts, the smell of blood piercing his nose as he stopped just before the person, a hand covering his gasp as he recognized who it was.
“Mumbo?!” Grian’s hands held tightly onto his coat, staring at his friend's figure below. His shoulder was drenched in blood, deep wounds that looked like bites marked into his skin, clothing torn and tattered. Something had gotten him… oh why didn’t he just listen to Grian’s warnings? He worried something bad would happen… but this was a whole new level of fear, the fear that Mumbo could die from this.
With careful and gentle arms, he removed his coat, wrapping it around the bloody wound. He didn’t mind sacrificing warmth if it meant his friend would survive. He scooped up Mumbo into his arms, long legs dangling to the side as Grian walked towards his home, the whistling wind seeming to mock at the two. He set Mumbo on the couch, grabbing as much gauze and bandages as he could get, reaching for his phone as he swiftly called Cub and Scar. It was 1am… but he knew the two well enough to know that they would be awake, exhaling as his call was answered.
“Cub? I need you and Scar at my home now.”
“We have a problem.”
————————————
It took less than 10 minutes for Cub and Scar to appear, but over an hour to fully clean and bandages Mumbo’s wounds, discussion as to what even got him stirring a conversation, one that Grian needed desperately as he stood over Mumbo’s body, eyes filled with ache and exhaustion, adrenaline his only force keeping him awake.
“You found him on the outskirts of the woods, Grian?” Cub questioned, fingers flipping through pages of wildlife material. The three were hyperficiated on Mumbo’s wounds, theories and guesses of what animal potentially bit Mumbo, and not just that, left terrible wounds and dents into his shoulder that would definitely scar for life.
Grian slowly turned his head after a long pause, a cold, foggy gaze staring at the two. “Yeah… I did,” he blinked again, wincing at the recently made memory of Mumbo on the floor bleeding out. He hated it, hated seeing him in a state like this, loathed how he couldn’t handle his own emotions over his friend. His friend…
“I don’t know what the hell bit him.”
“I bet it was some sort of Eldritch creature!” Scar suggested with a smile, waving his hands around in spooky gestures. That was ridiculous. Those kinds of beings never were proven to exist… despite his common sense, Grian grew defensive, his shoulders tensing up.
“Scar!?” Grian yelled back, taking complete offense of the comment despite it not being aimed at him. He knew Mumbo well enough that even he probably would be mad at it. Emotions were high, things were tense in Grian’s head.
“Funny idea, Scar,” Cub rolled his eyes, a smirk remaining on his face at his friend's humor, blissfully ignoring Grian’s worried state.
“It's most likely a bear’s bite. Quite a big one as well. Mumbo just got unlucky. He’ll be alright, mostly broken bones, but good thing we got here in time,” Cub paused, his gaze shifting towards Mumbo’s unconscious figure, then back to Grian as he spoke,
“Also a good thing that his friend found him.”
“Hah!” Grian’s laugh came out awkward, much more than he tended, hands crossed over his chest, fingers digging into his shoulder. He gazed downward, looking into the dark, messy hair his coworker adorned. Friends… that's all they were, wasn’t it?
“Yeah… friend.”
————————————
The next week drifted slower than molasses. Mumbo thankfully had woken up, but his condition wasn’t the best. The pain in his shoulder ached, no surprise there, but the wound was taking a while to start its healing process, a bit odd. Mumbo was stiff, barely even able to move his shoulder.
Grian didn’t mind all the mess. He would clean and wrap Mumbo’s wounds over and over just to see the look the man gave him. Tired eyes and a soft, warm smile that rested just below his mustache, dark hair that stuck out in certain ends. It made Grian’s heart melt, and he loved and despised it all at once.
“There we go,” Grian stood up from his knees, dusting the dirt off his clothes as he stared down at the newly refined brace and bandages laced over Mumbo’s shoulder. Sure, it had only been a week prior to Grian finding his friend outside his home, but the wound itself showed no signs of healing just yet, rather concerning considering the amount of blood Mumbo most likely lost.
Grian rubbed his hands together, clicking his tongue as a small distraction as silence filled the small room. “How are… you feeling?”
“Better. That’s for sure!” Mumbo’s voice rang with a small giggle, shortened by a sharp pain that ran through his shoulder, muscles tense and bones so stiff they would probably shatter if he moved even a little bit. He sighed, slowly pulling the shirt Grian had let him borrow back over himself, struggling to do the action with one arm.
Grian watched, cringing at Mumbo’s movements and his clear agony, but he remained. He didn’t want to coddle his coworker…
“Well, improvement is better than nothing,” he told, attempting to uplift the spirits of the cold room, “If anything, I’m grateful you’re alive.”
The two locked eyes, deep brown and light blue staring into one another. Grian tried pressing back the glimmer as he stared into Mumbo’s face, breaking the lock as he stared down.
“I’m gonna try to go to bed,” Grian said, emphasizing the ‘try’ greatly. Damn insomnia. “Let me know if you need anything at all.”
“I’ll be fine, Grian. Try and get some sleep-“
“No Mumbo, I insist,” Grian didn’t mean to interrupt, but the urge to just… do something, be useful, was too much. “I don’t care if I'm dead asleep. If you need something don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”
“…Alrighty then,” Mumbo’s smile returned, brightening the look from his exhausted face. Grian turned towards the door, stopping as Mumbo spoke again. “G’night, G.”
Grian stopped, his hand resting just above the doorknob, fingers curled over its surface. He gazed back, the glimmer in his eyes bright as he smiled back.
“Night, Mumbo.”
————————————
…Mumbo couldn’t sleep.
He wasn’t sure why he was struggling, but something was keeping his mind wide awake. His eyes stared up at the dark ceiling as he lay surrounded in pitch black, hands curled onto the blanket that he felt way too hot under. Was he getting sick? He hoped not… he wanted to return home soon, and the last thing he needed to do was continue to burden Grian with his problems.
Giving up, Mumbo sat up, vision blurring from the lack of iron in his system, resulting in a groan from the man. His legs dangled down from the bedside, feet touching the ground. He didn’t feel right, he knew that for certain now, and yet Mumbo still denied it as he stood up, staring at the alarm clock and its red ‘12:00’ that ached at Mumbo’s eyes. Why was everything overstimulating??
Mumbo sighed again, feet moving towards the window and its curtains. Maybe the night sky could help to calm him. Mumbo loved the sky and its auroras, perhaps that could help to aid his mind and body. He peeled back the curtains, the bright stars in the sky glistening around a beautiful full moon.
It made it worse.
Just as the moonlight touched him, Mumbo suddenly felt a pit form into his stomach, loud and violent it seemed to growl back at him as if his action was a deadly mistake. Mumbo’s arms curled around his stomach, fingers gripping onto ribs as he stepped back. He couldn’t describe the pain at all, and to his own surprise, it felt like his organs were twisting around.
A large crack echoed through the room from Mumbo’s spine, his hand moving to block his scream. He wouldn’t wake up Grian, no matter what was happening or what he had said. This wasn’t normal…
He suddenly stared down at his forearm, watching as his skin seemed to tear and rip on its own, forming holes and gashes that weirdly didn’t bleed, more pops and breaks filling the room as Mumbo’s entire mind started to form into static.
Everything felt slow, mind numbing to Mumbo as more patches of skin broke apart, shredding themselves open, bones adjusting and cracking into new places. His shoulder ached from the agony. Canines in his teeth sharpened, just poking out of Mumbo’s lip as he finally reached for the window. He didn’t understand what was happening, but everything screamed at him to get the hell out. He managed to unlock the window, struggling with torn skin before busting out the window, unable to see anymore as everything around seemed to darken, yet again, losing control…
————————————
Grian wasn’t sure why now, but a bad feeling suddenly filled into his stomach, crushing in on him like a brick wall. It was a feeling he had grown familiar with, one that confused him as to why he was experiencing it now, but he knew to trust himself if something wasn’t right.
Groaning, he too sat up from his own bed, instinctively heading down the hall to check on his coworker. Certainly Mumbo was fine… he looked so tired earlier. He’s probably fast asleep.
But as Grian turned the doorknob and peaked inside, the room told another story.
“Hey Mumbo-?”
Grian froze, staring at an empty room and a wide open window. Did he… break out?!
“Oh SHIT-“ he sprinted out, grabbing a flashlight and that same coat he had used to bandage Mumbo. Good thing he washed it…
.
.
.
Grian wasn’t sure why his first instinct was the woods, but knowing Mumbo he just feared the worst. It wasn’t like Mumbo to just… disappear. It wasn’t to the man’s accord at all. Something was off. Did he get kidnapped? Did something happen to bring him out the window? Who even jumps out of a window at this time of the night?!
The moon was starting to drift off the horizon, about 5-6am it was now. How long has Mumbo been gone?!
“MUMBO?” He called out, his flashlight set to dim to help conserve energy. Grian’s voice bled with fear and a resentful worry for the one he secretly loved, cringing at the tone in his voice. Too concerned…
He suddenly heard footsteps, a harsh breathing making him flinch as he turned towards the noise's direction, a tall shadow standing in between two trees, over prickly bushes. There was a small light in the figure's eyes, white, beady pupils that stared back like a wild animal, off-putting for a humanoid figurine.
Grian turned the flashlight up, pointing it directly at the figure…
“MUMBO?!”
Grian shrieked, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stared back at his friend. Mumbo was a mess, his clothes shattered and gone, hair messy and disoriented, a complete opposite of the man he had spoken to hours earlier, but what completely shocked Grian was the blood. Mumbo's jaw was covered in the red liquid, staining his chest and even his sharp teeth. He seemed lifeless, dead.
“Mumbo??” Grian spoke again after no response, deciding to pull the stupud card as he shined the light into Mumbo’s beady eyes.
Well that worked…
Mumbo’s pupils pierced, widening as if he had dissociated from the world around. Breaths came out harsh as he stared down at blood stained hands, the taste strong in his tongue.
“Wh… Grian?” He finally responded, voice hoarse as red dripped from his lips, his entire body felt off, wrong, staggering for an ounce of strength that Mumbo had completely lost.
“What… happened-“ Mumbo’s body seemed to give up on him, collapsing into the ground below, their confused conversation cut short by pure exhaustion.
Grian rushed forward, ignoring the fact that Mumbo was basically just in ragged jeans and underwear now, a hand placed on top of his pale back. Dear God, what did he get into?! And why was he covered in blood?? What did Mumbo get into that led to the man doused in red? Did the shoulder injury have to do with this? Was the bite causing Mumbo to act zombie-like? Or…
Or was this something that turned Mumbo.
Grian’s hands wrapped around Mumbo again, fingers delicately pressing into pale, tense skin as he picked him up as he once again brought him back to his home, his mind racing at Scar’s previous words, words that he had shut down out of idiocy, but as he stared at his disheveled friend, Grian started to panic. He had heard of old myths and lore, beasts that were told in fiction and mythology, but as Grian remembered all the signs, he feared the worst, and as he stared down at the bloody face Mumbo bore, he swallowed.
Mumbo wasn’t human anymore.