Archive of Our Own ^beta

"i could just stare at you forever," two time blurts out randomly while you two are sitting on the couch, innocently beaming when you turn to look at them with a worried look. "..that's creepy, timey. plus, you already do!" it's true, you can feel their eyes on you whenever you do anything around the house. last week comes to mind, when you went to get the laundry.

"oh, shoot, i need to get the clothes from the dryer. i'll be right back!" you jumped up from your spot on the couch next to two time, and walked to the bathroom where your washer and dryer were located. crouching down, you opened the door to the dryer and began transferring the clothes to a hamper. when you finished, you lifted the hamper up and turned to leave when you saw someone.

staring at you. from behind the doorframe. one hand clasped on it as they peeped at you. eyes dark and smile wide.

your blood ran cold as you screamed, dropping the hamper of clothes and spilling it on the floor. thrown off-balance from the sheer fear you felt, you also fall on your behind. the peeping tom, who you then realized was just two time, emerged from behind the doorframe and rushed to your side, helping you up.

"shit- timey, what the hell!?" you stood up, brushing off your clothes. "sorryyy, hehe. i only wanted to check on you! can't i look after my partner??" despite your more-than-dismayed expression and language, two time continued to grin, as if they didn't almost kill you with a heart attack.

your eyes narrowed, "i said i'd be back quickly, i wasn't going to take that long! ...don't sneak around like that, or you won't be getting any kisses or anything for a week!!"

their smile dropped completely, now replaced with a wide-eyed frown. it always unnerved you how quickly their mood could change. "..are you mad at me? pleasedon'tbemadpleasepleasepleasepleaseimsorrypleaseiwon'tdoitagaini'msorry-" they rambled for your forgiveness.

you felt hesitant now, any initial anger you had dissipating at their pleas. "..no. i'm not mad, just- you can make it up by picking up the clothes and helping me put them away." at that, two time brightened up again, clearly satisfied with successfully guilt tripping helping you find it in your heart to forgive them. immediately, they got to work assisting you in scooping the clothes back into the hamper.

a shiver travels down your spine and you shudder just from remembering the way they stared at you from the door.

two time tilts their head to the side, "it's not my fault! you're nice to look at! and you always have a funny reaction." they giggle playfully, watching a small blush creep on your face from the flattery. "i swear you're actually possessed." you groan in unamusement and lay your head on their chest.

"...you smell really good too."

you hit two time with a pillow square in the face.

jason

you were a scientist, studying the infamous killers and anomalies at area 51. notably, you were often assigned to observe jason voorhees. silent but deadly, jason never verbally responded to your questions or comments, but you could always tell he was listening. watching you, the same way you watched him. of the two of you, you always wondered which one was truly being studied.

with you, jason liked to be as close as possible to the glass barrier separating him from you. you don't speak down to him like your coworkers do, which he liked. conversations between you and him, though one-sided, felt like a normal conversation between friends, with questions like: "did you sleep well?" and "have you eaten anything yet? i've had lunch." when you had to go into his chamber to make closer observations, he eyed how your legs slightly shook as you walked to him, yet your demeanor conveyed an unnatural calm in your voice and expression. though mother's voice always mocked you for being a naïve weakling getting too attached to a murderer, jason felt otherwise.

but on the fateful day of the containment breach, jason was blinded by rage. unable to differentiate you from the others, he drove the chainsaw deep into your chest and tore you in half. only after the fact, did he realize what he'd done.

"jason..." your voice.. the turn of his head is slow, as he locks eyes with your spirit. the ghostly image of you is tinted red with a large gash splitting you down the middle, reminiscent of your death. "why..? i was nothing but good to you...! and you repay me like this? they were right about you." the words echo, carrying a notable disappointment and resentment. jason clutches his head. it pounds heavily as your voice joins his mother's in feeding his insanity and malice. the frequency of his massacres increases, as jason is only able to hope that the revving of his chainsaw can drown you out.

1x1x1x1

1x1x1x1 didn't mind your presence as you listened to his hatred-filled rants, even if you didn't always encourage or agree with them. when everyone else stayed away or reprimanded him for her constant negativity, you believed that positivity couldn't exist without it and that it was necessary. though she sometimes get too enraged and lash out, it's no problem! without fail, you stayed and waited for him to calm down as always. their malice never dies, but with you, it could be slightly abated.

... you made them weak. as long as you continued to live, you were an obstacle to his purpose.

that day, you two were discussing their creator, shedletsky. whenever it came to this topic, 1x1x1x1 had the tendency to get particularly volatile.
"tch, y0u d0n't und3rst4nd. th4t f00l must b3 d3str0y3d!" they growled. you were sat on the red gingham picnic blanket, snacking on an bright red apple from the basket you'd brought along. "that's.. probably not necessary, surely? i understand you don't like him, but does he really deserve death?"
1x1x1x1 clenches their fist. you looked up curiously as he darkly chuckles, "4r3 y0u try1ng t0 st4nd 1n my w4y?" pointedly, you squint at her, "yea, i'm standing in your way of doing something completely out of proportion, that's what."

it wasn't alarming to you when 1x1x1x1 suddenly appeared in front of you. only when they captured your jaw with one hand and you felt the cold blade of her daemonshank flush against your throat did you notice the magnitude of their malicious aura. as the edge of his sword slightly dug into your skin, the poison began to gradually infect you. a sickening green spread like a wildfire across your body starting from your neck. you gasped, pain coursing through your veins, "hrk—!"
"d0n't br4nd y0urs3lf 4s my 3n3my, l1ttl3 0n3~ d0 y0u w4nt t0 kn0w wh4t h4pp3n3d t0 3v3ryth1ng 3ls3 th4t's tr13d t0 st0p m3?" they brought your face closer, forcefully making you nod up and down. her lips curled into a devilish grin, "y0u'll f1nd 0ut s00n." and with that, excruciating agony bloomed from your chest as she drove the daemonshank through it. while you didn't die immediately, you wish you did. together with the poison from your neck, the toxins from your chest wound made you writhe and twitch until you eventually succumbed.

yet 1x1x1x1 did not feel as satisfied with your execution as they thought they would. he's the manifestation of evil, she's meant to live off of this villainy! they'd wanted this! he did not feel bad, you're not the first life they've taken. but there was only a vague emptiness. though, it would be filled soon.

your apparition is a green hue, with the green brightest in the neck and chest area. "heartless monster. you should dedicate your life to a different purpose, because you will never defeat shedletsky. then it will dawn on you that none of this was even worth it." hearing the harsh words with your normally calm voice is unnatural, but the anger is justified and 1x1x1x1 knew it. they attempt to simply walk away, in the hopes you'd leave and he wouldn't have to face his actions. however, you are stuck to her side. "y'know, i'm only stuck here because my soul wants to see you rot. tsk, even when i'm dead, i'm forced to be with you-"
"s1l3nc3!" the daemonshank phases through you when she attempts to rid you by slashing at you. when it fails, they jerk their head in the other direction. but you refuse to allow him to ignore you, getting all up in her face as you shriek, "look at me! you took my life, the least you can do is LOOK AT ME!!"

now, 1x1x1x1 did not only represent shedletsky's hatred, but yours too as you fuel their flame. without your light, she's left to spiral deeper into darkness, completely blinded by violence and incredibly easy to agitate. never again will he walk this world in peace.

john doe

you were happily married together, rarely did you ever fight with him. the life you two shared was incredibly domestic. in the mornings you'd make breakfast and he'd hug you from behind, leaving a sweet kiss on your jawline as he smelled what you were making. in the afternoons, you'd go to town for lunch. he always let you decide where you two would eat, having complete trust in your judgement. john doe would've followed you to the end of the world if you told him you'd go there. and in the evenings, he'd put on a smooth jazz tune on the gramophone in the living room. then you two would sway to the beat, one hand holding yours and the other settled on the small of your back. every time he accidentally stepped on your foot, he'd profusely apologize and you'd giggle. lying in your shared bed at night, you two would sometimes discuss starting a family together with children and all, maybe even adopting a family pet.

you should've known it was too perfect. but nobody could've seen the signs, not even his beloved spouse.

on that night, he was coming home awfully later than usual. nervously, you glanced at the clock on the wall of the kitchen: 3:15 am. the sound of your foot tapping on the wooden floor unevenly subdivided the ticking of the clock as the seconds passed by. whipping out your phone for the tenth time in a minute, there was still no new notifications, and there hadn't been for the last five hours. he would've texted you if he was working overtime... but a knock on the door dispelled your anxious trance. he's here! it had to be him! "coming!" you were practically sprinting to the door, excited to greet your husband from a long day of work.

but when you opened the door, you felt nothing but fear. yes, it was your husband. however, half of his body was overtaken by an unknown black substance and.. code...?

"do... 01101001... n't ...00100111.. 01101101... make-00100000... it.. 01110011...01101111... har--01110010--der.. 01110010... for.. 01111001... yourself, dear...", your lover managed to croak out, his speech barely recognizable. before you could scream, his smaller arm lifted you in the air by your neck, and he pierced you through the stomach with his mutated claw. your body lifelessly dropped to the ground.
with what's left of his consciousness, he weeps as your ghostly arms loosely lay over his collarbone like a necklace while you embrace him from behind. "we had everything, john... did you not want that future together?" john doe goes to place his hand on yours, but he's able to touch nothing. he doesn't dare to turn and face you. unintelligible and strained noises emit from him, like he's trying to talk.
"...you're not my husband anymore, are you. no, you're a wretched thing that defiled our haven." your presence, previously soft and welcoming, transforms into an overbearing pressure as your hands move to wrap around his throat. the golden wedding ring on your finger brightly contrasts the pale and plasma composition of your specter.

"till death do us part."

c00lkidd

you were c00lkidd's favorite babysitter. whenever you came over, he knew he wouldn't be bored!! you'd sneak him snacks and candies without his dad knowing. whenever he wanted to play a game, you always happily agreed. though you constantly let him win, it was never boring! but his ultimate super-duper favorite game to play with you was tag!!

though, he didn't understand why you looked so scared this time. you're never this stubborn to win!

he sprinted through the woods with inhumane speed. "hey, come back! gosh, you're so fast, it's not fair!!!" as you ran, your panicked heartbeat quickens when you realize he's not that far behind you. your body was littered in bleeding scrapes from thorns and thistles you've brushed past, but stopping for even a second would allow the child to catch up to you.

"oof-!" unfortunately, your foot got caught on a small branch and tripped you.
"i'mmm gonna getchaaa!"
before you could get up and continue running, you felt a small hand clutch your nape. with monstrous strength and a sickening crack, c00lkidd broke your neck. "tag!! you're it! hahaha!" the little boy springs up in pure joy, pleased with his victory. but when you don't get up, he quietly approaches your corpse. ".. hey, what's wrong?? get up! i'm sorry i won, please wake up!!" no matter how vigorously c00lkidd shook your body, the light never returned to your eyes.

"i don't think i'll be able to play with you anymore, kid.." your ghost joins him in staring at your remains. with tear-filled eyes, he glances up at your apparition.
"but- but why not?!? did i do something wrong? i won't do it again, i promise, just come back and play with me again!! i'll- i'll let you win all the time! pretty please??" despite his gargled pleas, you can only shake your head. "how did you turn out like this? i shouldn't have spoiled you so much... i failed you."
the only thing you can do is watch as c00lkidd's small body wracks with sobs, violently hyperventilating as he clings onto your corporeal self.

as a silent oath he's made with himself to avenge you, he swears to always win every game he plays with all of his new friends. and he'll show no mercy at all!!

rush hour at builder brother's pizza is nothing short of hectic. lines upon lines of people are waiting to be served both inside and outside of the establishment, many of whom just got off work and simply opted for pizza dinner. elliot, being assigned to cook duty today, juggles between building pizzas and keeping an eye on the ones cooking in the oven. images of pizza or soda continue to pop up on the order screen ahead of him. everytime he submits an order onto the conveyor belt to the boxing station, another takes its place instantaneously. it feels almost never-ending.. but it's no biggie for builder brother's best employee!

at this point, elliot's working on auto-pilot. he doesn't even have to look as he tosses another pizza into the oven! maybe he should've though, because the fire alarm starts to blare. elliot winces and groans at the deafening noise interrupting his highly efficient workflow, a red tint flashing in the kitchen as it wailed.

what could've possibly set it off? he didn't accidentally throw a soda into an oven, did he? no, he hasn't done that since his rookie days... he'd know the difference between a whole pizza and a cold soda! and he most certainly didn't use any pizza with bugs crawling all over it...

oh well, only one way to find out.. elliot nabs the fire extinguisher on the wall near the door to the cashier area, aiming the nozzle and putting out the flames with the extinguishing agent. white chemical solution permeates throughout the room, and when it settles, elliot opens the pizza oven to discover the source of the problem...

a terrified, soot-covered, baby chicken.

"woah- hey little buddy! now's uh.. really not a good time to be in there.." he's quick to take the chicken out from the oven and gently plop it on the floor where it's safe. the chick chirps in distress, furiously flapping its wings at the pizza boy as he puts his hands up in defense. rightfully so, it almost got baked alive!

"hey, i'm- i'm sorry! truly! but how was i supposed a chicken was in the kitchen? ...how did you even get here in the first place??" seriously, nobody saw a whole animal waltz into the building and decide to say anything about it? the chicken only stares up at elliot, its big beady eyes peering into his soul. his heart twists at the sight. it's so young.. could it have been separated from it's momma? it's practically a lost baby.. and it wouldn't survive for very long by itself (considering that it has displayed absolutely zero survival instincts)... and you did say you want to get a pet...

opening the pocket of his work uniform, elliot securely stows away the baby chick. now that that's settled, it's time to hit the rest of these orders!

imagine your shock when your boyfriend comes home with a chick after texting you that he 'had a surprise for you'.

the creature fits in the size of your palm, as you both stare at each other with curiosity. "oh my- elliot, where did you get him from?! and why is he so dirty..."
"i-i don't know, he just appeared while i was working! ...he uh.. must've rolled around in the oven charcoal. good thing i found him before anything happened, haha..!" nervously, he shrugs, hoping you don't prod deeper. while elliot hates lying to you, he would hate to tell you that he almost cooked the fella alive even more. you wouldn't let him hear the end of it..
"ohh, poor guy! let's get you cleaned up." as you march to the bathroom to run a bath for your new friend, elliot lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. he then trails after you, following you to the bathroom to help with cleaning the chick.

the chick splashes vigorously in the bubble bath as you attempt to wash out the dirt from between his feathers, excitedly zooming around the tub. from the sink, elliot supervises with instructions for how to clean a baby chicken pulled up on his phone. soon enough, you've completely gotten rid of all the soot and reverted him back to his sunny yellow coat.

"he's so small.. what if he gets hurt or sneaks off somewhere when we're not looking? oh, and he'll get colder much easier.." you express your worry with knitted brows as you carefully dry him off with a small cloth. for something his size, everything can be dangerous! even something as mundane as a ball could easily squish him if it lands on him.
"maybe we oughta babyproof the house? i could ring up builderman tomorrow and ask him to install some baby gates to keep him from running everywhere! until then, we can use some makeshift stuff."

and so, operation: childproof the chick is a go. first things first, you need a way to know when he's on the move!

"look elliot! this collar has a bell and a bow!"
"we might have to adjust it a bit considering how small the guy is... but he'd look so cute!"

all your doors and windows are to be tightly shut and locked at all times, so the chick can't slip out and get eaten by a hawk or something. and finally, double-check appliances before turning them on (elliot suggested this one). you considered having the little fella sleep with you in your bed, but the fear of accidentally squishing him when you roll over is very real. instead, he gets a small but well-furbished crib padded with blankets.

in the next few days, builderman comes over to help. all elliot told him is that you two wanted some extra security precautions. the engineer is all smiles and jokes until he reaches your shared bedroom and spots the crib.

"...now, i don't mean to pry into your guys'.. 'personal' business but, are you two er.. expecting?"
elliot quirks an eyebrow, "expecting what?"
builderman vaguely gestures with his hands, "y'know, any.. 'bundles of joy' on the way? i know kids these days are excited to settle down and all."
"whaddya mean?" you and your boyfriend share a mutual confused look.

cheeping emits from the crib, and as builderman peers into it, he realizes there's been a misunderstanding. "..ah, nevermind."

while you do have a baby, he's more of the feathery kind.

it's an oddly peaceful evening in the realm tonight.

the spectre hasn't thrown you and your fellow survivors into another round of your eternal limbo. though you're hesitant to lower your guard, as it could be a tactic to instill greater devastation by allowing a fleeting taste of peace only to throw you back into their sick game, you all agree that a moment like this doesn't come often and to rest while you could.

as you sink into the couch of your assigned cabin, exhaustion creeps into your bones. you heave a long sigh. now that you're not constantly running on pure adrenaline and fear, your body is completely giving out.

absentmindedly, you glance at the window to glimpse the other survivors' cabins next to yours. while you listen to the crackling of the fireplace, your eyes flutter closed. it feels almost like.. a home. like you're living in a neighborhood with the other survivors. in all honesty, you already look out for each other, so you're similar enough to a small community.

notably, you and two time stick together pretty often. or, more accurately, two time runs into you first, follows you around, and takes hits for you.

they particularly like to keep watch while you work on a generator. like, literally watch you do it. their.. staring habit makes you a bit nervous, so it takes longer to fix the generator. other than that, you're grateful when they distract the killer away from you if one happens upon you two.

they also make for some interesting company. despite your grim situation, two time keeps an upbeat grin on their face at all times. though it can be unsettling, you prefer to see it as a confidence in your survival. makes you feel a little better about your odds. sometimes, you catch yourself smiling too.

and besides, if you ignore all the eccentric rambling about the spawn and the constant staring, you have to admit.. they're kind of cute.

a rapt knocking snaps you out of your daydreaming, your eyes flitting back open. only to find two time's already staring back at you from your window.

speak of the devil.

"hey! heeyy! open up!" they sound slightly muffled behind the glass pane.

a twinge of terror zaps through you, blood running cold as you physically recoil from their sudden appearance. their eyes seem to reach into your soul.

"two- two time! goodness- you.. you freaking scared me!" your chest rises and falls as you regulate your breathing, recovering from the shock.

"my apologies. but could you let me in? i have a most wonderful idea to share with you!" their breath fogs on the window as they talk, and their eyes squint with excitement when they mention an 'idea'.

you nod, sliding off of the couch and navigating towards the door, not missing how two time still remains at the window, watching you as you move. yet when you open the door, they are already standing there. almost a little too close to the door.

"what's up?"

they clasp their hands together and shut their eyes, in a praying-like manner. "oh, my dear fellow survivor, the divine spawn has graced me with a message, and they implored me to spread it with you..."

you frown, but stay silent. here they go again, about that 'spawn' cult thingymajig. this feels like being solicited by those telamon's witnesses back in the real world. mentally, you prepare yourself to hear something batshit insane.

"...they told me that we must forge a deeper bond! if we place our trust in one another, our survival in upcoming rounds will increase considerably!" when they're done stating their intentions, they look up at you with an innocent smile.

huh.

that.. is much tamer than you expected. in fact, it even sounds nice.

your expression relaxes (you didn't even realize how tense you were) into one of playfulness, and you cross your arms.

"hehe, is this your way of saying you want to hang out? well, don't just stand there! come on in, timey." you leave the door open, turning your back on them to retreat to your living room.

two time huffs, eyes darkening. "no, weren't you listening? it was the spawn who- hmph." they give up on correcting you when you've walked too far to hear them anyway, and resolve to trailing behind you.

you've already taken a seat by the time they get there. they follow suit, plopping down stiffly on the plush material. though they sit themselves a bit away from you, almost on the other side of the couch.

"so? what were you thinking of doing?" you glance over to them. once again, they are already looking at you.

"i must suggest that we watch a movie! here, i've even brought a drink for us to enjoy. think of it as a remuneration of sorts, for taking up your night!" the drink in question turns out to be a huge bottle of wine that two time sets on the coffee table in front of your couch. you don't even know how they were able to hide that up until now.

"aw, you didn't have to. anywho, what should we watch?" clutching the tv remote in your hand, you turn the tv on and flip through the selections. action, sci-fi, romance, drama, thriller-

"oh, that one!" two time excitedly points to a thriller film. the synopsis reads that it's about two lovers in a cult. judging from the preview images and the adult rating, it seems particularly gory and bloody.

you grimace, "oouhh, i dunno... i'm not really good at handling blood and guts. you've seen how i am in the rounds.."

yet, two time insists, "worry not! the spawn holds pity for those who are weak of heart. you may rely on me to shield your eyes and protect you from the bloody scenes, just like when i lead foes away from you in the rounds!"

flipping through the other options, none of them seem half as interesting. you shrug in acquiescence, there's no real reason for you to object. in any case, it might even help you be less squeamish.

"well, okay. it can't be that bad.."

the grin on two time's face widens at your approval. "wonderful! let us fill our glasses, then we will start." they rise from the couch. before you can tell them where your cups are, they've bolted into your kitchen.

like they already know where they are.

like they know the layout of your house as if it were the back of their hand.

..eh, you figure the cabins are probably all built the same, so the cups in their kitchen would likely be in the same place as yours (when you were glancing out the window earlier, you failed to notice that the cabins have varied architecture, and therefore have different layouts from one another).

after a short while, they return with two glasses in hand and places them firmly on the table. however, a problem remains.. how will you open the bottle? you'll need a corkscrew, won't you?

evidently not, when two time pulls out their dagger and inserts the blade at a 45 degree angle, twisting it upward, then sticking it sideways and turning once the cork is a little out, popping open the bottle with ease. they pour a small portion of wine into both of your glasses to start, the crimson liquid pooling at the bottom of the cups.

two time scoops up their glass and raises it to you, "tonight, under the grace of the spawn, we will find pleasure together. skin to skin, and our bodies intertwined, we are to explore the depths of one another, and the enlightened will lead the blind. cheers!"

wow. what a toast. you awkwardly mimic them and raise your glass, unsure of how to top that. "uh, yea. cheers to us."

despite your lackluster speech, two time ecstatically recognizes it as reciprocation regardless, and you clink your glasses together as the movie starts.

you bring the cup to your lips after briefly swirling it, tasting the wine as it gently flows into your mouth and allowing it to coat your tongue. it's sweet and rich, almost over-indulgent. you hum in intrigue at the flavor. two time never struck you as the type to enjoy this genre of wine, or even wine in general.

despite the movie rolling, two time's gaze is glued to your face, studying your reaction. they down their glass in a much quicker manner, not as thoughtful about wine-tasting. "is it to your taste? it's very similar to the kind we enjoy at the cult for ceremonial purposes. do you like it? you must. you seem like you do."

in your peripheral, you can spot them scooting closer. but you don't turn to look, solely focused on the television. you think you can see their lips twitch into a frown. a more skeptic train of thought wonders why they suggested to watch a movie and proceed to not watch it, though you don't give it a voice.

"mm, yea. it's a nice feel on the tastebuds. do you like it?" you slightly turn your head in their direction to signal your participation in the conversation, but keep your eyes on the screen. currently, the lovers are enjoying their cult-mandated break time together, kissing and holding hands. should you check the genre again? it seems like a light romance story rather than the blood-fest it advertised itself as.

"whether i like it or not doesn't matter. it is preference of the spawn, and i am to align myself within that. because the spawn is gracious and generous, the least we can do to give back is to hail their tastes. yet even then, it is not enough."

the lovers make their way down the hall to one of their rooms, giggling and flirting all the while. they seem eager, fumbling with the doorknob and nuzzling against one another. are they heading to the bedroom?

you don't know if it's the wine or two time's convoluted and cryptic speech, but you're feeling a bit dizzy.

"hey, are you aware that red wine stimulates arousal? i am."

"two time, you're talking too much." you don't exactly process what the hell they're saying, tuning them out to pay attention to the movie.

"see for yourself."

your lidding eyes shoot open when a soft mewl escapes one of the lovers, as her partner gropes her pussy and sucks on her breast. panicked and flustered, you jump to grab the remote and pause the movie.

"holy- i am so sorry, timey, i had no idea they'd have a sex scene in here, i-"

before you can press the home button to escape your embarrassment, two time's hand lunges forward and firmly grips yours. the sudden act pulls a startled gasp out of you, caught off-guard by their seemingly out-of-the-blue reaction.

their finger slowly creeps towards yours hovering over the button and gently pushes your finger off of it, a stark contrast to the violent way they just grabbed you. then, they guide your hand with the remote back down to the table, taking advantage of your shock to easily pry your hands off of it and leave it there. the light tremble in your hands makes them smile.

"i knew. i saw it under the warnings. hehe, you're so careless, little lamb!" they giggle unabashedly.

suddenly, you're a lot more aware of how your seat is sinking due to two time's weight and their closeness. how your thighs are touching. how their breath tickles the shell of your ears. and how every word they mutter goes straight down to.. you should've snuffed out the fireplace, it's getting a bit hot.

when you go to finally look at them, to pay them mind instead of the movie for once, their other hand is quick to redirect you back to the television by turning your chin. with a click, two time resumes the movie and allows their hand to fall from your face. you just barely miss them setting the volume bar to 100.

"let's keep watching!"

now, you're focusing all of your effort in trying to not look at the screen or listen to the sensual and lewd noises of the scene in front of you, which proves to be a whole other level of difficult. your eyes dart anywhere else, your fingers awkwardly fidget, and your pussy's dully throbbing with desire with every second.

"..harder... ple-ase, harder..! ah-"

as the dominant lover dips their finger into their partner's vagina, the wet squelching and needy moaning blasting from the television makes you squeeze and rub your thighs together. deep shame bubbles in your stomach, yet you can't stop yourself. this was supposed to be a friendly fun hangout, but you've desecrated it and turned it into something dirty. could you even bring yourself to look at two time after this?

on the other hand, two time is completely unfazed, if not slightly giddy from the wine. casually, they lay their head in their hands as they watch, as if they're looking at a sitcom. it's not that they don't find the scene arousing, they are turned on, they're just waiting. moderately yet lacking impatience, their foot taps on your wooden plank floor. like a ticking countdown to your damnation.

"right there!! keep going, haah..!"

when the lover on top retrieves a dagger from beside the bed, two time's eyes light up and their posture straightens. there's no warning when one of their hands clasps over your eyes and blocks your vision, snapping you out of your horny daze. your eyelashes bat against the fabric of their fingerless gloves while you take a second to grasp what's happening.

clearly confused, you start to question, "what-"

"i'm shielding your eyes from the gore. there's knifeplay." voice low in your ear, two time is quick to justify themself. a pained yelp from the receiving lover backs them up, evidence of the scene's violent shift.

"oh.. uh, thanks..." you'd all but forgotten about the graphic scenes that you were so worried about, too caught up in the random sex scene to prepare for it. thankfully, you have two time here to look out for you.

though, your lack of vision leaves you clueless. vulnerable, even.

completely dependent on two time.

"ss- ah! it stings..."

"you're absolutely divine like this.."

something shifts under you.

your ears can only pick up the rustling of fabric and off-putting tittering from next to- no, behind you, as you feel a hand encroach around your side and pull you towards its owner. no longer does your back rest on the softness of the couch, but the firmness of a chest. akin to a trapped prey, your thighs lay in the jaws of an additional pair of legs.

your body is caged within another.

two time throws out an excuse for their behavior, "this scene seems like it'll take long, so i'll have to cover your eyes for some time. it'll be more comfortable for me like this!"

whatever ounce of logic you still have screams at you to refrain from grinding on their lap right there, to have some dignity and decorum.

even if you're so close to one another, you can feel every shaky breath they take from behind you. even if they're laying their head in the crook of your shoulder and their hair tickles your cheek.

even if their legs are wrapping around your thighs, pulling them back, and spreading you wide open. even if your pussy thrums against their crotch like a second heartbeat.

even if their cold hand is snaking underneath the waistband of your pants, stopping right above your clit.

a light gasp leaves your slightly parted lips. the muscles in your lower regions tense, your cunt absolutely desperate for anything they're willing to give. it's as if your body can't decide whether to squirm away from their touch or chase it.

"i, i can't look..."

"open your eyes, my sweet. i'm making a masterpiece on the canvas of your body."

"oh, poor little lamb... lost in the dark.. tell me, do you trust me?" they nuzzle deeper into your neck as they sweetly coo.

"yes- yes, please... just touch me..!" at this point, you don't care how slutty you're acting. now that two time has revealed their far-from-innocent intentions, you want to be fucked silly.

you can hear the smile etched into their voice, "i see. then! spawn, guide me, lend me courage and strength. may this-"

during their spiel, you attempt to drive your hips upwards to get even a little contact. yet to no avail, as they swiftly jerk their hand away.

they growl as they chastise you, "-aht. don't be so impatient. or else i ought to leave you here in your filthy lechery."

"i will carve myself into you. so much so that you cannot bear to be without me."

"i, i fear that's already, ngh, the case..."

you vigorously shake your head, "no..! nonono..." your pleading is mindless, pointless even, but you're much too needy to receive the epiphany that two time wouldn't dare to leave you high and dry like this. not after all the work they've poured into getting you to this point, oh, no.

they scoff, feigning annoyance despite their inner amusement. "hmph. may this intimate act prove fruitful in our upcoming endeavors as you will it to be. bless. now, little lamb.."

two time begins to sneak their hand down. firmly, they grip your mons pubis in their palm and prods their fingers against your opening, yet don't allow them to enter. even so, your desperate pussy almost sucks them in anyway.

"...let us commence with haste in 'deepening our friendship'."

they glance to the movie that you both have long neglected, watching as the dominant lover winds up the dagger..

and when they sink the blade into their groaning partner, two time times their index to press into you, easily slipping inside with how wet and hungry you are. but you are given little time to adjust, as they quickly begin sliding in and out at a vicious pace. your cry syncs with that of the submissive lover in the television. in any case, you're more than ecstatic to finally get your desired relief.

they chuckle, "hehe, so wonderfully tight. were you that excited to 'bond' with me? you naughty lamb-!" as they hiss out that last word, they plunge their finger deeper until you've taken all but their knuckle. your insides clench at the violating intrusion.

amazingly, even after everything, your self-respect still somewhat exists. "i'm not- naughty.. i, i swear i didn't- plan for it to be like this..! didn't know we would- nghh.." desperation leaks through your voice, while you half-heartedly defend yourself against their accusations.

but two time only takes it to patronize you, "aww, look at you! taking the blame like a martyr... the spawn would smile upon such selflessness."

"you're- you're terrible to me, darling, just- terrible...!"
"if i'm so awful, what does that make you, who lets such terribleness do as it pleases with them so eagerly? come on now, i'm not the only sinner here."

from the moment that they had stepped foot into this cabin, they already had greater plans for this cutesy little 'date'. and you played into every trap perfectly.

you were doomed the moment you opened that door, and inviting them in just like that? they have to stifle a laugh when they think about how easy it was!

and the movie choice? completely intentional, you didn't even question it! they meant it when they called you careless, but that is exactly what made you so, so adorable.

your heart races when you think you feel another finger petting near your pussy, eager to join its friend. "wait- ah, wait, hold on timey- i, i don't think i'm ready-"

the audible panic in your voice excites them. "the spawn will give you the strength you need to handle it. trust me." yet despite your pleas for mercy, two time pushes it in. a tear stings your eye as your poor unprepared cunt burns from the prematurely added finger fervently fucking you in tandem with the other.

"shit-! uaa.. hurts-, haah....", you heavily pant, back arching away from two time's chest.

sweat beads on your neck whilst you struggle and twitch from the flaming ache. a sudden, warm, and wet sensation trailing up said neck invokes a shiver from you. are they licking your sweat off?

"are you alright? you look lightheaded, have i taken too much blood?"

"no- nono, it just feels so good.. you feel so good..."

thankfully, the pain quickly melts into pleasure as two time curls their fingers in your insides, deliciously pressing against your g-spot and earning your loud and wanton moan. hopefully, none of the others are awake at this hour to hear.. or worse, are being kept up by your debauchery.

"see? you were able to take it after all. oh, what joy.. our 'bonding' is working!" you only pathetically whimper in response, but two time figures that you agree. you have to! just look at that fucked out, blissful face of yours! you've practically surrendered your body and mind to them.

from behind, you can feel their hips start rolling into your ass, pushing you deeper onto their digits. the extra friction adds to your building orgasm, every stroke inching you closer and closer. no doubt that two time can tell too, with how your pussy basically has their fingers in a vice grip. it swallows them effortlessly, their digits positively filling your cunt together (though their fingers are relatively bony, they feel thicker when they have two in you).

"more, please- i'm- mgfhh, so close..!"

"fuuck- timey! don't stop.. i'm- i'm gonna- mmfh!" you wail out helplessly as two time's movements grow erratic to match your demands, brutally fingerfucking you. wet, sloppy noises from your vagina getting absolutely defiled echo throughout your living room, but you don't even have half the mind to feel embarrassed.

the cultist's voice is close to hypnotic as they whisper, "that's right, little lamb.. give in to your lust. from here on, i am your most trusted confidant, and you are mine."

right before that knot snaps, the hand covering your eyes brings you to face the side, so that two time is able to capture your lips in a heated kiss. the scream you would've let out from your crashing climax is effectively swallowed up and reduced to nothing but a weak whine. you squirt all over your panties, as well as coat two time's fingers in a glistening sheen of your juices. their fingers continue to roughly push in, coaxing as much pleasure out of you as they possibly can, before lazily pulling out and slithering out from beneath your pants.

GUYS IM OUT OF HIATUS BUT I HAVE A SHITLOADILLION REQUESTS

a savory aroma wafts from the pot of stew as you gently stir tonight's dinner, the stove's range hood ventilation's incessant hum serving as ambience.

you would've had two time help, but you knew better than to let them roam in the vicinity of knives. no matter how desperately they beg to offer their assistance, there is no appealing their ban from the kitchen!

you take up a spoonful of the stew, lightly blow on it, then lift it to your lips. plegh.. too salty.. a little more water would dilute it.

after making your fix, you taste it again, lightly nodding in approval at the improved flavor.

you'd go back to stirring if it hadn't dawned on you that your house is a bit too quiet for your liking. two time was home, weren't they? you thought you remembered asking them to stay in your shared bedroom until dinner was ready.

usually, you'll hear them faintly humming or rambling to themself... yet there is no such indicator of their presence.

only silence. you could hear a pin drop.

or a floorboard creak.

your head could've flown off from how quickly you snapped it to look behind you, only to be met with two time in the process of sneaking up behind you. a smile is plastered on their face, even when you've spotted them. in fact, it might've grown wider upon you turning around.

"oops! you caught me! ah, and to think i almost had you, hehe... little lamb is so vigilant!" they throw their hands up, playfully admitting their shameless guilt.

"you're not as slick as you think, timey," you retort, returning their silly attitude. "here, have some and lemme know what you think." you scoop another spoonful out, holding a hand beneath it as you carefully transfer it to two time's mouth.

they immediately swallowed, almost like the stew just went straight down their throat. you doubt they even thought about how it tastes...

"wow! i've certainly never tasted something like this! truly enlightening."

"...is it, good..?"

"nope! ..yes! ....yea! ...i'm not sure." with every switch of their opinion, two time tilts their head to the other side.

you sigh. this wasn't helping at all... but you suppose it couldn't be helped. they probably didn't consume such rich or particularly savory food in the cult. you wonder what they did eat.. gruel? is it possible for someone to be so devoted that they'd subject themself to that willingly?

as you ponder spawn cultists' diets, two time's face lights up, an idea brewing.

a small noise of surprise escapes you when your partner suddenly cups your face in their hands, slightly squishing your cheeks together.

but the shock doesn't end there, because right after, two time leans in to kiss the corner of your lips. you think you felt them lick you too.

"mm, it tasted better like that."

"wh.. huh? what??"

"there was soup on your mouth! i just got it for you. you silly, messy lamb!"

"oh.. i see..."

they'd probably like the stew more salty then.

"make sure we aren't forgetting anything before we leave!" you pull the back of your boot up to slot your heel inside, hand propped on the wall next to your front door for support.

you had managed to convince both of your partners to go out on a little date today! despite the initial hesitance from them both, they agreed if only to make you happy.

even if they flinch when they accidentally brush against the other while you're all cuddling, even if the room never fails to fall into a deafening silence the moment you leave them alone together, you didn't deserve to be burdened with the aftermath of their failure. and that's a sentiment they shared.

"bundle up, nightshade. it's cold." azure drapes another jacket over your shoulders. it's thick, fuzzy, and quite honestly a bit overkill. but azure refuses to give you anything less, lest he wants you to get sick.

meticulously, they begin to button up the coat for you. as they slide each button through its designated slits on the other half, the jacket feels progressively tighter, hugging your previous layers closer to your body.

nice, snug, and warm.

"i can do it myself, you know.." weakly, you peep out a protest from underneath the oversized jacket. though it's a bit late to do so, considering azure's already done with buttoning you up.

"your hands," azure takes up your hands in his for emphasis, "are completely frozen over. it'd be faster to do it for you."

you attempt to move your fingers, either to prove him wrong or to confirm if they're right. lo and behold, they're sluggish in their movement, as if the message transmission from your brain to your fingers was lagging.

azure gently rubs his thumb over your frigid digits and encases them fully in their own fingers. a futile attempt at warming them up, but no less thoughtful.

"if you wanted to hold my hands, you could've just said so." you look up into azure's narrow purple eyes, teasing in the lilt of your voice and the gaze in your eyes.

they squint back with a clever glint and a comeback on the tip of their tongue, "i-"

"oh lamb, don't you know the skin of the neck is incredibly sensitive?? you must take this scarf!"

a large piece of fabric suddenly covers about 75% of your vision when two time slips it over your head, sloppily wrapping it around your neck.

azure scoffs, "you didn't even put it on them correctly." they pull the scarf off, drape it around your neck again, bring both ends through the loop, then tie it into a neat knot. "you can be stupid in every other aspect, but i refuse to let you be careless about them."

two time frowns, "...sorry." their entire demeanor seems to droop, clearly disheartened.

"don't be harsh, azure.. they're only excited to help. thank you, timey!" their reward is a sweet peck on their forehead from you, which they receive with much enthusiasm, perking back up.

"we should head out now, let's go!" you slip out of the door, leaving your two partners still inside the house.

azure starts to follow, but stops in their tracks when he feels a hand on their wrist. he doesn't spare a glance back.

"what. what is it now? is it that even now you can't stop bringing me down?"

"..take these mittens, babe. it's cold."

azure looks back.

two time stares back.

a pair of black mittens are clasped in their other hand, now outstretched to azure.

"so you can be a good partner." azure's words are sharp as he slides the mitts onto his hands.

two time awkwardly chuckles, "a second chance does wonders! you can't say that trying love again with them hasn't done you any good either."

azure struggles with putting on the other mitten, the thickness of the already gloved hand making it a bit difficult.

"maybe. maybe we just needed to see new people."

two time takes the remaining mitten from azure, sliding it onto his other hand easily.

"maybe we just needed to be new people." they barely whisper, letting their hand hold azure's for a moment. the latter doesn't pull away, and they stand there in silence. not the usual tense ones, but a 'relishing the moment', comfortable sort.

"are you guys coming? that coffee shop i wanted to check out has a long line, so we should get going!" your voice rings out from outside, a sense of urgency evident in your chattering.

"ah, we've left them out in the cold for a while now." azure looks up at the sound of you.

"and you were scolding me about being careless? for shame!"

"oh, shut up."

firmly but not roughly, azure snatches two time by their wrist and leads them outside into the white winter snow, where you're waiting for them to catch up.

it's cold tonight.

you shouldn't complain, considering it was your idea to go star-gazing. but in your defense, it sounded cute in the moment.

the blades of grass uncomfortably drag against and poke your skin, prickled with goosebumps, as you shift to turn on your side to face two time. they only blankly stare up at the eternal night sky.

"timey?"

they hum, but are complacent in making any other effort beyond that to acknowledge you.

"i'm a little cold.. can we cuddle? ...please?" your whispered pleas could've been mistaken for the ambient howling of the wind. perhaps that's why they don't answer you. but there is much shame to be had in asking again, you think.

hesitantly, and with much space, you reach your hand out to them.

nothing. no acceptance, no rejection.

then, you dare to slink your arms around their body, loosely embracing them as if unsure whether to commit fully to it. you think you feel colder touching them than not.

their body tenses under your touch. did they feel disgusted by you?

you shakily exhale, trying to ignore the deep pain rooting in your heart and constricting your throat. times like these, you wish that they'd start yelling how much they hate you. at least then, you'd know for sure, and you'd know how they feel or think for once. but instead, you are left in the dark, blind and guessing, and playing a game meant for two alone.

a familiar sting burns your eyes, and you take it as your cue to distract yourself.

"..that's orion's belt. it's thr-three stars." you point to the constellation, light years away. two time blinks, inches away. it's less about telling them, and more about telling yourself.

"over there is gemini. it--hic--has the twin stars, castor and- and pollux-" despite your futile attempts, the tears fall anyway. and when one slips out, the rest comes in a flood. it takes only seconds before you're uncontrollably sobbing, muffling your cries in two time's arm.

yet, even as you wet their arm with tears, snot, and saliva, they say nothing. no comfort, no disgust, simply silence.

they couldn't say anything.

not when fear paralyzes them.

they've messed this up before. it's not out of the question to say it could happen again. the same voices that lead them to atrocity chatter viciously in their mind, angry wasps rattling in the nest, urging for another sacrifice.

to once again spill blood, warm with infatuation. to take advantage of this golden opportunity to present their devotion to the spawn by stealing the love they hold with you and metamorphosizing it into the love for their god. one wrong move, and their ghostfire dagger will plunge right into your heart.

to two time, inaction is the greatest reciprocation of love they could offer you.

without turning their head, their eyes flick to glance at your blubbering form.

it's cold tonight.

there's that feeling again, returning like an old friend.

that feeling that he is committing an abhorrently and inherently wrong act, yet 007n7 cannot find it in him to stop.

back then, in his days of exploiting, he never stopped. why would he? there was no shame in it. it was all good fun to a careless god-player.

he had no shame.

now, he has an abundance.

he's never been one for religion. he knew his terrorism disqualified him from salvation. but this.. situation, he thought, could be the karma finally catching up to him. that, or 007n7 just cannot ween himself off of immorality, even when he's turning a new leaf. old habits do die hard, after all.

you nuzzle into him as if he's some oversized teddy bear, digging your nose into his hair and inhaling his scent. it's musky, you can tell he's neglected showering for the last few days. but in comparison to someone like you who is constantly bathed in the stench of blood, he smells like high-end perfume that you'd love to drench every inch of yourself in.

he repulses a bit, a grimace flashing across his face at your outward sappiness. though, it's only seconds before he hesitantly snuggles up again, unable to withstand the loss of contact he himself created. it's rare for him to come across someone—or something, would be a more appropriate word to describe you—so willing to touch him, love him no less. beggars can't be choosers, he supposes, so he ought to cherish every disgusting drop of whatever this is. it fits him.

however, 007n7's mind is thrown into equivocation again when the horrifically unpleasant aroma of iron pierces his senses.

how could he forget? you are stained with the blood of his peers and other innocent victims infinite times over, so much so that it has been ingrained on your very being. was he that desperate that he'd take love from even the deranged? no, he was better than this-!

he firmly pushes off of you with both his arms and feet, intent on breaking out of this intimate cage you've trapped him in. a strangled grunt escapes from his throat as he struggles.

his effort works for a moment, your eyes widening as your grip falters. though, it takes only seconds before you capture him back in your arms again. even with his motivated resolve and advantage of the element of surprise, 007n7 is fairly weak, and it's laughable how easy it is to overpower him.

"oh 7, you scared me.. where did you think you were going?" you coo, cradling him like a child. even if he did manage to break free, you know he would not be able to get far. you're lucky you chose someone so unathletic.

007n7 still kicks and screams. he attempts to wrench your hands off of him as he splutters, "let- let go of me..!" his clothes angrily rustle as he twists, shoves, writhes. some specks of blood from your claimed lives have rubbed off on his lovely blue shirt.

despite his sudden outburst, your voice is patronizing, oozing with a doting urge, as if he is simply crying for your attention, "aw, did i squeeze you too hard?" you gently caress the side of his cheek with the side of your finger, "i'm sowwyyyy, i'll be more gen-"

"you're a filthy mu-murderer!! get- away....!"

in the split second that he lets that word leave his throat, your sweet face drops into a empty frown.

oh. so that's what this fit is about.

007n7 feels a cold pang strike his heart upon your dark expression, his previous anger being rapidly displacing with a flood of fear. yet what scares him even more is your lack of action. no sudden jerky movements with the intent to kill, no growling or other signs of rage, simply a look. that is the scariest wrath of all.

his wide, shaking eyes follow the movement of your claw, which slowly inches towards his face until you cup it in a swift and deft motion. it's not harsh, but it is sudden. and it is enough to make him think he'll die. you can feel his pulse thumping heavily through his soft flesh, undeniably afraid.

he can only watch as you lean in close, positioning yourself near his ear.

"you too."

you couldn't have stated it any more plainer. it was a simple statement, like wishing for a someone to also have a good day. yet, when you pull away, his face is completely pale, shrunken pupils painted with terror. he looks as if he'd seen a ghost, perhaps one from his past.

defeated and miserable, 007n7 does nothing as you hold him close again, in a silent understanding that he could only ever be loved by monsters like him.

nothing, aside for a shaky hand gingerly placing itself on your bloody back.

the wind seems to bite your face as you run for your life. your pulse throbs between your ears, your head steadily beating like a drum, and a wintry air clawing at your wheezing throat. you swear that your heart would explode in your chest at any second. under your frantic feet, stray pebbles and dirt and grass fling in every direction.

a tendril from a pursuing azure whips the ground behind you, barely missing your heel and invoking a frightened yelp. in the distance, you can hear them lowly growl in frustration. your ankles ache, and your feet are numb from practically applauding the ground, but the close call is a suffice warning of what will happen if you dare to slow down.

"you can't run forever."

all of the cocky remarks and nasty jukes you hit on them earlier are definitely coming back to bite you in the ass. even when other survivors were clearly in his sight, he still insisted on chasing only you, literally pushing and shoving past them to tail you. if this wasn't a life or death situation, you'd be a little flattered at the thought of someone wanting you this bad. but it is. so frankly, you're terrified.

"a minute straight of chasing me, and you still haven't caught up? it'd be a better use of your time to go for someone else at this point!" you throw out a sarcastic comment, a feeble attempt to hide your anxiety with a mask of confidence.

in a strategic mindset, you are right. azure would get more value out of hunting another survivor. hell, they might've gotten a few kills by now if they weren't so dead-set on coming for you.

"go ahead and waste your breath some more. it'll make it easier for me."

but azure is even more driven to catch you with every second you're not dead beneath them. holy targeting.

fortunately for azure—and unfortunately for you—they'll get what they want soon enough, with the unintentional assistance of a root jutting out from the ground that catches your foot. a vulgar expletive falls from your mouth as you're sent tumbling forward. at the sight of your flub, azure's hat maliciously cackles.

even though your sight is filled with nothing but dirt and grass, the heavy footsteps approaching do a fine enough job of telling you the obvious: you're fucked. not only that, your adrenaline is dwindling now that you've lost your momentum, and your motivation to get up and keep going is near zero.

so you simply sit there, and brace for the warm ambience of the lobby again. because at least when you go back, you can get a break.

..yet, the blood never bubbles up your throat. there is no tentacle piercing your chest. your head hasn't been stomped in.

azure remains still.

confused, you crane your head to the side and steal a glance at them. you're careful to not make it an obvious or dramatic movement, as if their mind would suddenly change on the flip of a dime. their figure casts a looming shadow over you, blocking out a good amount of stars in the realm's eternal night sky. that stupid hat definitely adds a bit of height.

"…mercy?" you sheepishly ask, a glimmer of hope shining through the crack of your voice.

"i wouldn't consider it that." you open your mouth to question what that entails, but you're quickly silenced by the handful of your ass that azure squeezes. you choke, not expecting such a perverted behavior from him.

only then do you realize the rather suggestive position you're currently in: your ass is proudly presenting itself to azure in a perfect doggy-style position. if he didn't know any better, he would've thought you did it on purpose to save your skin. not completely out of the question, considering how you are. but seeing the vivid crimson blaze across your face like a wildfire, they're inclined to believe your innocence in the situation.

the hat viciously laughs at the pieces finally clicking in your foolish little head and your consequent rising embarrassment. azure lets his hand fall limp to his side. "of course, it's not necessary. if you aren't willing, you may have a ten second head start to run."

you blink. then, you glance at the area in front of you. ten seconds is more than enough to get you a good distance away if you chose to run. and with how well you've been outplaying them until now, you could still live even if they caught up.

but you're curious. morbidly so, which is a more modest way to say you want a riled up azure to plow you. you did put in all of that effort to piss them off, could anyone blame you for wanting to reap what you sowed? in the end, no matter how you look at it, you win either way.

you shrug, feigning nonchalance. "well, i guess it's only fair." purple eyes narrow as you hook your thumbs under your pants and pull them down, the cool breeze tickling your exposed skin. 

you can't hold back a gasp when you feel rough tentacles coiling themselves around your legs, simultaneously spreading you apart and pinning you down. they're tight enough to be nigh impossible to escape, though not enough to cut off your circulation. the thorns firmly nestle against but do not yet pierce your soft flesh, ensuring that any sudden movement won't have any pretty results. another appendage wriggles its way into the hem of your panties. it doesn't pull them down just yet, awaiting further instruction.

"…what's the hold-up?" meekly, you pipe up. you don't mean to sound so desperate, but it's a bit rude to be left hanging.

"why, i'm admiring my victory." azure lets their eyes linger and ogle every inch of your mostly bare lower half, intently drinking in the sight. your sweaty, shaking thighs, exhausted from all of your bothersome running, seem almost like heaven's gate to him. a shame that they'll only feel worse once he's done with you.

"you've been such a damn pest, i couldn't wait to finally get my hands on you. now, i'll treasure every moment—" the tentacle laying dormant near the top of your panties harshly tugs them down, revealing your moist pussy to its owner, "—of ruining you and turning you into my trophy."

you gulp at the sensation of his tip pressing against your entrance. crap, he's big. you sweat a little, stammering, "wait, wait—no foreplay? you're just going in raw??"

he simply scoffs in response, close to offended that you asked. "did you expect me to play nice? after all of that? don't kid yourself."

both hands come up to cup your ass cheeks again, and one of his thumbs begins to rub circles into your delicate skin. the surprisingly sweet gesture could be mistaken as something soothing, as if they were consoling you. "don't be tense. it'll make this hurt more than it already will. doesn't matter to me anyway."

all you can do is weakly nod and listen, steadily exhaling and trying your best to relax your muscles. their cock slides between your folds a few times, caressing them almost, before finally pushing inside of your pussy with a wet squelch.

you have to bite your lip to stop the murderous scream from escaping your throat. "oh—shit..! ow—owow.. oh—fuck!" a string of hushed curses and pained cries tumble out from you. the sheer stretch feels like it's searing your whole body, your tight walls ripping apart from the sudden intrusion. weakly, your shaking hands scramble to grip the poor tufts of grass in front of you for support, damn near ripping them out of their roots.

meanwhile, azure stays put, patiently waiting for you to get accustomed to their girth. yes, this was a much better alternative to simply slaughtering you. "regretting it yet?" he teases, delighted by your struggling.

you huff, "no—no way! agh—.. i'm not, gonna take—ah, any of that back—" despite the weakness flaring through your body and his dick pulling you apart, you try to let yourself ease up.

seeing that you're in the mood to talk smack, azure decides you're ready to continue. he hisses, "we'll see about that."

he begins to thrust, languidly forcing himself in your insides, like he's relishing in every single second of this. your walls feel like they're shivering around his cock, so wonderfully tight around him. all the while, you're whimpering and clawing at the ground, doing your best to endure them.

finally, finally, they have you in the palm of their hand, after failing to catch you by a breadth of a hair far too many times. now, that infuriating, shit-eating grin of yours has been wiped clean off, and replaced with wet trembling lips. there is no greater reward.

despite his burning desire to have you scream his name while he splits you in two, azure's pace is forgiving. with every stroke, they take their time generously dragging in and out, making sure your poor pussy gets every inch of them. thankfully, the dull fire of the initial stretch gradually begins to subside, and morph into pleasure.

"hah, i—i thought.. i thought you said you weren't, ngh, playing nice?" you manage to get out a quip between your strained moans. pissing them off even more while they're railing you might not be the smartest idea, but you won't lie down and take this defilement without a fight... even though you very much are.

his grip on your ass tightens, claws digging into the flesh. they roughly snap their hips once, reaching deep into your cunt, and you cry out from the sudden change. "i thought it'd be wise to not break my toy so soon, but now—now, you're asking for it."

you don't know what to expect when azure stops. and you're given no time to guess when one of azure's hands releases from your rear and harshly grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the grass and muffling any and all of your complaints.

"mmph!" angrily, you protest. but with your face against the dirt, nothing you have to say can reach azure's ears.

he pleasantly hums, "ah, peace and quiet at last. hopefully this will teach you some manners."

with so little as a warning or a heads-up, azure starts to ruthlessly pound into you. their brutal speed feels downright abusive to your pussy, as your womb switches between feeling full then empty over and over. each time they pull out, you can feel how sore your cunt is from how much they've stretched you open. overwhelmed, you squirm against their tentacles, yet to no avail. you weren't going anywhere. you just have to take it, take him all.

azure grunts, "how does it feel? you were so confident only moments ago, now look at you. just a slutted out fucktoy, all for me. i meant it when i said i'd ruin you." the only response he receives from you is muted sobbing. they're right, and you hate it. you love being their whore, and you hate it.

the hand gripping your scalp falters slightly, possibly due to azure losing himself in your warm cunt, and you take the moment of weakness to tilt your head to the side so that your cheek rests on the ground instead of your whole face. you sputter, determined to prove them wrong, "i'm—still, still not, gonna say—ngh, i'm so—RRY!" but a particular thrust from azure and your jab warps into a high moan, blatantly announcing to him that he's found your sweet spot.

and just like that, you were done for. azure takes but a second to angle themself accordingly, then they're bullying their cock into that sensitive area, repeatedly coaxing deliciously pitiful cries and wails out of you. 

"mmh, ngh—ah, azure—..! wai—hng, mmfh.." barely any of the words that leave your mouth are intelligible, reduced to only sweet noises and fragments of his name. exactly like he wanted it to be.

"hush. only a bit more." seeing no point in holding your head down anymore, azure releases it from his grasp, and relocates their hand to rub your throbbing clit. the attention involuntarily causes you to jolt, thrashing slightly against the tendrils still holding you down. your brain feels like it's melting, as your body obediently responds and reacts to all of azure's wrath. it feels unfit to even call it 'your' body anymore.

a warbled groan vibrates through the throat of azure himself, not the hat, upon feeling your walls hug his dick tighter. you're so snug around them, like your body was made for them. they wish they could stay in you forever. 

"close?" azure asks, though he knows he won't get a viable reply aside from mindless babbling.

"azure—! zu, azure..." as they expect, you're beyond gone, only able to chant their name like a mantra. drool dribbles from your parted, glossy lips, and tears have long been streaking down your face. your whines climb higher in pitch and volume, until the knot finally snaps, and you cum with a blubbering scream.

azure bends over your back, holding you close as they continue to piston into you. the heat radiating off of their chest clashes with that of your hot back. his pace begins to grow irregular and frantic, becoming close to animalistic as they approach their own climax. they grunt hungrily in your ear, "i'm going to fill you with my seed. my perfect trophy. you're completely mine."

your pupils dilate. mindlessly, you murmur, "inside, ins—inside pl.. nnn, please…! wuh, haah-" 

warmth fills your pussy as azure empties his load in you, his actual self growling. he thrusts a few more times, not wanting to let any inch of your walls go uncoated, before slowly pulling out. you sigh, feeling like a part of you is missing without azure's merciless cock kissing your cervix every second.

the tendrils binding you loosen, leaving dark marks on your skin as the only reminder that they were there. barely lucid, you make no move to change your position to something more comfortable. seeing this, azure snatches you up and sits you right in their lap.

absentmindedly, as if playing with a pet, azure tenderly strokes your head. you lean into the affectionate touch, humming in contentment. "i'm disappointed that none of your pesky friends found us, yet at the same time, i'm glad. nobody else deserves to see you like this..." 

"..especially not you, two time." he hisses out the cultist's name as he glares at the nearby bushes. their grip on you tightens, protectively holding you close to his chest. your glossy eyes  grow large as you watch two time indeed emerge from the shadows and slowly stalk towards you two.

"heeyyy! having fun without me?" they don't seem bothered at all about being caught peeping, their incessant smile still etched into their face. in fact, they look happy that they were called out in the first place, seemingly taking it as an invitation to join.

"leave. i earned this. you're just a vulture scavenging off of my work." azure promptly starts dressing you, pulling your underwear from your knees back up to your waist. but nothing escapes two time's curiosity. it only calls their attention to it, their hand shooting out to pull your panties back down. 

the two lock themselves in a heated conflict, vying for control over.. your undergarments. like children fighting over who gets the teddy bear.

"let go."

"come now, azure, let me repent! i can help. i'll clean up your little mess!!"

"we don't need your help."

"don't be like that azure, we used to share everything together! let's do it again, like the good old times!! just. like. old. times."

"do you even hear yourself, you delusional idiot? they're already spent. if you'd use your eyes, you'd be able to see that."

two time's pitch-black eyes flicker to you, seconds before they lean down and get all up in your face. "i'd like a turn, laaammbb~ i'll clean you up nice if you let me. would you pleaaaassse allow it?"

you hesitate. your poor vagina surely needs downtime to recover from azure, but at the same time, walking around with globs of azure's cum dripping down your legs wouldn't feel the most pleasant. nor would it look the most pleasant. and if two time is offering to play janitor so willingly, well… who are you to deny them? 

after a passing moment, you sigh in acquiescence, "..okay. just be gentle, please." azure grunts, clearly disapproving but respectful of your decision. it's your funeral, he supposes.

two time grins from ear to ear. "gentle. gentle. yeeeesss. i'll be very, very gentle. so gentle." their repetitive mumbling sounds almost crazed, like you activated some kind of sleeper agent in their brain. "the spawn smiles upon you for your charity."

you can't help but feel like you're going to regret this.

with their ritual dagger, two time cleanly slices your underwear off, haphazardly discarding the torn fabric elsewhere, and proceeds to dip their head between your legs. they waste no time in shoving their tongue deep inside your crying pussy, eating out azure's semen without hesitation. their tongue swirls against your walls, scouring hungrily for every drop they could find. you whine, a dull sensation flaring up in your exhausted and terribly sensitive cunt from the overstimulation.

"two time—i, i said gentle—! agh—.. hah…too, too much—" their brutal speed right out of the gate makes you gasp. your thighs clamp tightly around their head as you squirm wildly in azure's lap. despite your reprimands, two time continues their onslaught. at this point, there shouldn't be any more left of azure's cum remaining in you with how thoroughly they're eating you out. yet, they're still going, tongue curling and lapping with no intention of slowing or stopping anytime soon.

"what a greedy animal. you can tell them to stop now, their job is done." despite his outwardly sardonic tone, a layer of concern for you bubbles beneath. azure tilts your head back, locking eyes with you. sweat perspires radiantly on your flushed skin, mixing with the fat tears rolling down your cheeks. your mouth dumbfoundedly opens and closes like a fish, indecisive of what you should or could say. 

and in the end, it doesn't matter. right as you land on something, two time's tongue brushes against a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves, and you're reverted back to a broken sobbing mess. another orgasm begins to burgeon in your stomach, and you don't have the heart to stop the cultist.

"feels good, doesn't it? please don't stop me lamb, pleaseee.." two time pauses for a moment to beg against your puffy lips, whispered desperation laced throughout as if you need any convincing.

"more.. pl, please…good, so good, mmmf.. ngh—! don't—don't stop.." shamelessly, you buck your hips into two time's mouth, wordlessly commanding them to get back to work (to which they happily oblige with a great smile). your back arches against azure's chest while you wail into the night. your mind feels so fuzzy, delightful buzzing as it breaks from the sheer pleasure.

azure's tendrils sneakily return to your sweaty body, curling around your thighs and spreading you open again, granting two time better access for their feast. "hurry up and get this over with."

two time gets the idea, groping your still unclothed ass and bringing your hips closer to their mouth so that you can't wriggle away. no corner of your cunt is safe, as two time's tongue vigorously penetrates you at a consistently violent tempo, not even losing steam as you rapidly approach your second climax. wet, filthy noises of your own arousal and two time's mouth working it fill your ears alongside a ringing increasing in volume.

when you cum again, your vision is almost completely conquered by white. your climax feels like an uncontrollable flood, rushing out in waves and squirting everywhere. the strained sobs erupting from your throat sound nothing but pitiful and your shaking shoulders jump with every hiccup. every part of you fervently trembles, twitching while two time's mouth remains on your sex, lapping up your juices through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

when they're finished cleaning once again, they leave a sweet and chaste kiss on your labia. they then rise from your crotch, licking your residue off of their chapped lips. the dark glint in their eyes when they glance down at your writhing, heaving body could only be described as vaguely proud. they are an artist, and you, their masterpiece.

enthusiastically, they clasp their hands together. "my, what an enlightening experience! i believe our pretty prize here needs some time to recuperate from such intensive work. don't you agree, my dear azure?"

"my prize." azure is quick to correct their ex-partner with a hiss. their tendrils work on shimmying your pants back up, since your panties have been carelessly ruined and discarded by a certain someone. he always has to make up for their reckless tendencies. some things never change.

"ours." two time insists, squinting. still smiling though. "allow me to take them off of your hands for the time being! even with the spawn's blessing, i doubt that they'll be able to walk very well to their cabin. oh, no no no—not without looking like a fawn on ice!"

the botanist scowls. he knows fully well that he cannot keep you forever, nor accompany you back to the cabins, as much as he'd like to. but with someone as unstable and unpredictable as two time, your safety is not completely guaranteed. who knew what they could try while you're still vulnerable?

in the midst of azure's worrisome equivocation, you leave their lap and attempt to stand on your wobbly legs. they feel like jelly, or like struggling to balance on stilts, and it doesn't take long before you stumble into two time's arms. you nuzzle into their shirt, sighing as you deeply inhale their scent. they smell terrible, like a dank basement, but you're not in the headspace to care. you just want to go to your bed and sleep.

seeing your frail state, azure reluctantly folds. "fine. but if you go around parading them like they're all yours, i'll rip your head off." he points a sharp tentacle at two time's neck, emphasizing his threat. it didn't matter, considering that survivors respawn even if they die, but azure figures two time would like to avoid the traumatizing pain if at all possible.

two time does not flinch, only placing a hand on the back of your head and playing with your hair between their fingers. with their other hand, they rest it on their heart in the manner of a sincere salute. "i will not. i swear to the spawn, i will not." it's probably the most serious they've sounded.

you mumble nothing of substance, on the brink of falling asleep as your eyes begin to flutter closed. two time's eyes light up at your simple cuteness, and upon remembering they have to escort you, scoops you up into their arms in a bridal style carry. they coo, "there, there, little lamb. we'll go home soon." somehow able to process that, you hoarsely croak out a half-hearted 'yay'.

with you in their arms, two time turns on their heel and disappears into the darkness. azure can only watch their back grow smaller as they get farther and farther, watching another set off with what is rightfully his. it's colder now that he's alone.

no matter, he thinks. he knows how you work, you predictable fiend. come the next time, you will inevitably challenge him with that massive ego of yours. and you will inevitably screw up majorly. and he will inevitably claim his victory again.

the rain is relentless. 

thousands of tiny drops pelt taph's window, like thousands of livid people knocking at his door. despite his desperate attempts to tune them out by pulling his pillow over his ears, he can still hear the rage of the storm. muffled, but no less powerful.

a blinding pure white flash suddenly fills his freezing room for but a moment, the harbinger for a deafening boom in the distance shortly after. at the noise, the demolitionist jolts inward and curls further into the fetal position he's in, trembling violently underneath his robes. cold shivers ring throughout his body in electric currents, so much so that he fears the electricity outside will connect with his and fry him from the inside.

the storm is yet another one of the spectre's methods of torment, serving no other purpose than keeping survivors tense even in their periods of respite. though not as effective (as it only really terrifies the more timid survivors), every ounce of fear is worth harvesting. 

and with someone like taph? who stiffens at every knock and practically has his entire cabin decorated inside and out with traps to the point where simply entering feels like mission impossible? fear can be essentially mass produced, even with such elementary methods.

…knocking.

three loud raps in a row from downstairs easily stand out from the consistently incessant pitter patter on the glass window. 

his door.

someone's at his door. right outside of his cabin. and they're here for him, again.

taph pulls his robes closer to his body, hugging himself tightly into a small and impossibly still mound of fabric. he even stifles his breath, in case whoever it was outside could hear even the slightest of a sigh. if he pretends he isn't home, they'll think they're wasting their time and leave. they'll realize there's no point in hunting a ghost.

another three knocks. 

but this time, they come with a clue.

"taph? come on dude, don't keep me in the rain." your vague annoyance can't be more apparent in your tone, but it sounds like the angels' trumpets to the anxious taph. something familiar, something safe.

upon the sound of your voice, his head immediately lifts up, matching his rising spirits. his bed creaks softly, the mattress slowly regaining its shape as he shakily stands on one foot. then two. then he's rushing down his stairs in his tiptoes, descending with vigor so immense he nearly trips a few times on the way down. never had he ever been so excited to literally just answer the door. 

in fact, this may be the first time.

you're beyond disgruntled when taph finally opens the door (and who could blame you, with your hair flat and awful and your damp clothes uncomfortably clinging to your humid skin), but you're given no time to complain about his discourtesy before he's hurriedly tugging you along, dragging you back up his stairs.

"☺️👥💕(i'm so happy you're here.)" he signs jovially to you over his shoulder.

"hold on, taph, i just came here to ask something—" your stammering is lost on his ears as he reaches the second floor and continues to lead you into his room, practically herding you inside. the reason for your visit is evidently insignificant to him, with no desire to wonder about your business at his door.

he had just assumed it was miracle work.

you fight to think through your dizzy stupor. surely, you'd get a chance to talk when he drops you off in his room, right? but as soon as your two visions coalesce into one and your head stops swiveling, you just barely catch him rushing down the stairs once more.

…odd. it's so odd. you've never seen him so hurried. not even in the rounds, where the stakes are as high as your skeleton literally getting excavated from beneath your skin and muscles by some psycho. normally, he's meticulous, carefully thoughtful of trap and tripwire placements to best maximize his contribution to the team with what little the spectre left him with.

why's he running around like a chicken with its head cut off now?

the storm sends down another booming crash of thunder, and a significantly less louder but definitely painful-sounding thud follows downstairs. moments later, a violently shaky taph appears in his bedroom's doorway with a copious mountain of blankets and pillows barely contained in his arms. with how much he's trembling, you'd think he hid a whole swarm of absolutely infuriated wasps beneath it all.

neat party trick, he can answer one question and create another simultaneously.

in a mix of awe, bewilderment, and curiosity, you only watch as he marches over to the foot of his bed and sets the ginormous pile down. consistent with his previous behavior, he wastes no time, immediately taking pillows up in his arms and placing them around the edges of his mattress. his jet black robe billows freely after him, following his swift movements. it's almost like he doesn't remember you're there, hard-focused on his current singular objective… whatever it is.

awkwardly, you shift your weight from one leg to the other. in a similar manner, your mind bounces between making yourself useful or not interrupting his work. so when he places the last pillow, you seize the opportunity to hopefully gauge the situation, with a meek "...whatcha got there?"

he doesn't even stop in his tracks, quickly signing "💡‼️(a solution!)" while he trots back to the pile, picking up a blanket with one hand. 

that didn't tell you jack.

his free hand signals apologetically, "😓🕒♾️💤. ⏭️🔚🔜🙏! (i'm sorry for making you wait. this is the last thing, i promise!)"

with a grand motion, he dramatically raises the blanket high above his head. his hood tilts upwards, watching the fabric fly as if it's magic, before it comfortably settles on the pillows. then he chucks the finishing touch on top: three more pillows in the middle. 

taph takes a step back, observing his masterpiece proudly with his hands on his hips and his chest puffed.

this.. this is what he's been brewing in his mind since he heard your voice, what he's been so locked on, what he's been painstakingly laboring on for the last approximately two minutes…!

all he's missing is..

taph's head snaps back to you (the first time he's looked at you since you step foot in his cabin). 

…his muse.

a sudden wave of shyness and uncomfortable warmth envelops taph, presently unsure of the true cause of his shaky fingers. despite the fact that your gaze has been on him this whole time, it feels much stronger now that he's unoccupied. he can't even meet your eyes, preferring to glance at his floor instead. 

goodness, do you always look at him this way?

"⏰⚠️‼️— (...i realize it's a little late to ask this, but—)" he pauses, hesitant, before his hands start vomiting words. "—🥺🙏🌃👥? (—canyoupleasespendthenightwithme?)" 

you blink (if you'd done it sooner, you would've missed that entire sentence).

and when the demolitionist hears no response, his anxiety swells. his mind races. 

you're upset because he jumped to take up your night for his silly troubles without permission. you're disgusted because an awful person like him wants to act childish and be soothed like one, when he has brought ruin to a myriad of lives. you think his pillow nest is ugly. you think he's ugly. you—

you're taking him by the hand. you're climbing into the middle, taking care to not push any pillows out of place accidentally. you're helping him inside it to join you.

and you're holding him, holding his tremor-ridden body close to yours with a contrasting firm embrace. you're tangling your legs with his, daring to entwine with him. though the smell of petrichor is irrefutably present on your skin, it's inoffensive and serves to enhance your natural scent.

"of course. didn't feel like being alone tonight anyway," you murmur into his hood. taph thinks he hears thunder strike again, but he's not certain when his heartbeat pounds this vividly in his ears.

remembering his manners at last, he perks up and gestures, "❗️👚👖🔄? 😥🫵🤒🦠.. (oh, right, wouldn't you like a change of clothes? you could get sick..)" 

behind him, you spy his closet door, partially ajar. inside? a massive array of huge cloaks. just like the ones he always wears.

a grin pulls at the ends of your lips. "..hell yeah."

the two of you spend the storm (what storm?) chatting away about anything that comes to mind. anything, except for your book he borrowed that you were going to ask him to return.

it's been two weeks since c00lkidd had gone missing, and one since your husband followed.

you haven't eaten in days. but you don't feel hungry anyway. there's no greater hunger than your hunger to see them again.

"no.. i still haven't seen him." whoever you're talking to near flinches at the sight of a what looks to be a walking corpse croaking to them. fear and worry and concern and disgust stare into glazed clouds of desperation and defeat, peeking through hanging knots and tangles of sagging and uncared hair shiny with grease. you withdraw the picture, holding the depiction of him close again. and you turn it, so that his face faces your heart. you'd embrace it tightly if you were strong enough. but you could barely keep your shaky arm outstretched to show the stranger. you could barely even look at it.

"i'm sorry."

you don't remember which of you said that.

poster and staple.

you haven't drank in days. but you don't feel dehydrated anyway. there's no greater thirst than your thirst to hold them again.

"him? ah, who cares?" the laugh that follows is bitter, sharp and loud like a bark. certainly not calling on fond or pleasant memories. "that jackass is probably off to ruin more lives. by the looks of it, he ruined yours too." venom trickles out of every 's' and 't' they hiss out. and when they're done sneering, the stranger scans you with a brisk once-over from your head to your toes. your teeth and heart and fist tighten.

so you swing. of course, it misses (and it's not even close either. it's less about landing it and more about defending ghosts). the stranger shouts strings of vivid and colorful expletives with a large spitting mouth and furiously knitted brows. but it's not as loud as it should be. as of recent, nothing has been. it's all muddy and dull, save for the incessant ringing.

poster and staple.
poster and staple.
poster and staple.

you haven't slept in days. but you don't feel exhausted anyway. there will be no greater rest than when they are finally yours again.

poster and staple.
poster and staple.
poster and staple.
poster and staple.
poster and staple.
poster and staple.
poster and staple.
poster and staple.
poster and staple.

poster and

staple

poster

and

stapleouch

poster

and

staple

poster

and

staple

poster

and

your arm can't bring the stapler up.

on the walk home, both of their paper faces trail you endlessly. the dark flaky wood on the bottom half of the utility poles isn't even visible anymore from their missing posters haphazardly plastered over almost every inch. some of them are torn down the middle. no doubt the work of the other residents. they were not the most loved by everyone. but they are the most loved.

the midnight wind feels numb. you've felt it too often to think it's cold anymore, yet your body still shivers and your nose still runs and your limbs still heave in slow motion. you let the toes of your shoes drag on the concrete sidewalk, and let your shoelaces stay undone. c00lkidd constantly had his shoelaces untied because he never knew how to tie them properly, no matter how many times you and 007n7 taught him. you thought he was being lazy. now, you think he just liked knowing you'd always be there.

are you next? you hope. you hope they take you to the same place they are. that's all you can do, just hope. when there's nothing you can do, just hope. hope and pray. pray there is an end in sight.

there's something at the end. 

there's someone at the end.

he's at the end.

you crane your heavy head up, and your eyes fight against the lidding to grow impossibly wide when you glimpse the unmistakable blue of his back. a sensible mind would've thought twice—that it couldn't be real, that your mind is playing tricks on you. if it is, you're an enthusiastic and more-than-willing victim.

it's as if life breathes into you again. the warm rush of blood returns to your limbs, and the breeze is cold once more on your flushed cheeks. the stack of posters scatter freely into the street and the night when they plummet to the ground. and your feet start to trudge on their own to the end of the sidewalk, starting as a dazed stumble then speeding up to nearly tripping over yourself. dried pools of drool around the corners of your mouth crack upon them peeling back an instinctive smile. the violent slam of your footsteps beating on the ground are the strongest part of you.

007n7 appears so starkly bright against the midnight backdrop, but you wouldn't have thought he looked any different. he always seemed that way to you. as you rush closer, you can spy someone lovely and red with him too, hanging on his arm and barely shorter than his waist. home is only a few feet away.

your vision and your mind tunnels, and you're scampering like an animal to that happy yellow. nothing else matters. in your stupor, you do not feel hunger nor thirst nor tire. nor do you realize the clacking on solid sidewalk has shifted to the rustle on thin dead grass. nor do you realize that your hands are not soft and flesh but rather gangly and thickly coated in blood. nor do you realize that the red on his arm is a deep and leaking fresh crimson river of a gash torn into his wrist up to his forearm.

but you are close enough to see the horrified expression on his pale face when he whips around to look at you.

then the timer hits 0. and he's gone and you're plunged into darkness. again. you blink away the strain in your eyes, the afterimage of his illuminated silhouette dancing around your vision. it's mockery, to wave him in front of you and giggle that you almost had it.

when your eyesight adjusts again, you come to find that you're in a familiar place. only, the conquering and relentless red on every possible surface and blank black in place of what should be tender family photos and the lack of a tangible outside peeking from behind the billowing curtains tells you 'not quite'. the surroundings are difficult to recognize, but not impossible. never.

the paths you follow to find each room are natural routine. countless memories in this very house carry your feet effortlessly through the halls: waking c00lkidd for school, joining seven in bed, calling both for dinner. the kid's old crib is still in your bedroom and your husband's #1 dad cup is on the kitchen table, pleasant landmarks in an otherwise alien hell. whether you should be grateful for the presence of previous normalcy or mourn it, you can't decide.

you are in a house, not to be mistaken for a home.