Chapter Text
Subspace trudged through his faction’s snowy biome. The weather has gotten its kick up in the last few weeks. And today might be his only day to find another test subjects, since the last two already died before he could even do what he planned for them. How rude!
Well, one killed themselves before he could even get them back to his lab. And the other died before it even got to the fun part.
which, to him, is such a party pooper!
He smiled uncontrollably, both of his hand’s clutches were now tightened around on the shovel he carried, through this terrible weather. Oh boy! He wonders what kind of things he’ll get his grubby little hands on today! How exciting!
That said, he gets hit with a wave of familiarity. Or more like longing, really. Longing, as in a yearning desire for something you currently don’t have.
Recently, he’s gotten…. Homesick lately.
Even the slightest flash of color could get his stomach churning through his head. No one dared to mention a name. Afraid of what kind of bursts the mad scientist would do, or even capable of.
It gets him feeling disgusted with himself. Which is wrong, since he’s perfect in every way possible! Even the imperfections make him perfect.
So he forces himself to turn away, his stomach feels like it’s got tapeworms in it when he stares longer.
But why couldn’t he? Yeah, sure he’s persistent. But his body should listen to his mind, that’s how it’s supposed to go.
he felt his hands tremble, but his legs start moving. Surely, it’s just another demon who’s gotten a similar horn color. That must be it. The chances are higher than zero after all.
Anyway, he’ll just check if it’s alive, drag it back to the lab and harvest it’s horns for himself before beginning his test.
he grips and the shovel harder when the shade is just a little too similar. Not that he memorized the color or anything.
And he starts digging. His arm starts to go numb from the number of times he’s had to shove the shovel under then lift it up, projectiling the lump of white dirt behind him before doing the loop all over again. The nerve! It best be grateful with the amount of effort he’s struggling through just to get to him.
At least, more of the horns start peeking through. Oh and a hand too!
He crouched down, temporarily leaving the tool at bay on the ground as his hands reaches to caress the appendage tenderly. Dragging his fingers smoothly along the bumps and nicks on the surface.
he smirked to himself, of course he’s right. This isn’t the one he’s been longing for. Every part of him was always well maintained, clean, and smooth.
Not like this doppelgänger. Whose texture feels like it’s been continuously thrown small rocks at, chipped at every side, and dragged across the dirt.
Which was funny, because that’s probably what had happened to this poor soul.
After seven whole minutes of digging, he finally uncovered most of the body. It was teal, its entire outfit was teal, aside for the gold accents. Who picks teal of all things? It’s such a bland color!
Then he laughs at himself. Ha… How could he have mistaken them both? He had mint horns, this guy has teal. The contrast is like a ravine.
He stared at it. It was laying on it’s front, it’s probably suffocating right now. If he flipped it over there might still be time to save him. Maybe.
He stood up, dusted himself off of the snow on his pants and kicked the guy over. He got them halfway, if he kicked hard enough he got get it to completely turn over. Though that would leave a bruise.
It’s a shame he didn’t care though. The contact let out a loud ‘thump’ as his foot connected to it’s abdomen rather harshly, turning over to his back.
To his surprise, there was a dagger plunged right below its chest. Poor thing probably bled out all over the snow. Actually, if he looked back from the uncovered snow he could see all of the dried blood.
Seems like he’s been here for a while.
It should be damn grateful, he’s even considering patching it up instead of leaving it out on the snow where it’s inevitable death could continue.
All that just because he looks slightly familiar? What a stupid thought.
Him, Subspace T. Mine, could never do such a thing!
So why is he here, back in his house. The body found, pinned between his waist and his arm. He sighed, dropping the body right on the floor before peeling his outdoor shoes off and tossing them by the door.
He clicked his tongue at himself, glaring at the body as he walked past it. It was so stupid, why he suddenly acting on impulse. He’s sure he’d never see that face around here ever again, even as much as he wanted to.
Great, now he had to clear out whatever was on the couch because for whatever reason, he just doesn’t feel like throwing it down to the basement.
His couch was filled with scrapped gear, a few bolts and small nuts lying around from where he leaves his scrapped pieces lying around. Sheesh, what a mess. He should call a roomba to his house.
After clearing it all out, he dragged the body and slammed it right on the couch. He planned his body to go get some hot water. But he stopped, and instead just stared. And stared, and stared.
His hand reached out to caress its face. It felt so real and so horribly wrong at the same time. It felt like reading a poor, off-brand copy of your favorite book because you couldn’t find the original one.
It fills him with disgust. Why is he like this? Why couldn’t he just dragged him into the Blackrock building and let whoever handle him? Why couldn’t he just leave him out there in the snow if he knew his death was so inevitable?
The answer lies under a thick layer of dirt somewhere. As his hand slowly pushed the hair out of the way, his gut flopped like a fish on land when he stumbles upon something.
An eye, or therefore lack of it. His finger nearly dipped inside, feeling his hand more over the eye socket. It felt like the stitches closing it was brutally ripped off, he could feel the flakes of dried blood trailing down his face.
Heh, it’s fine. It’s all fine, there’s plenty of demon’s out there with a missing eye. Dozens, probably.
So this all should just be a coincidence. Just a stupid, silly little coincidence.
So why did his hand shake as it swept the bangs over his face. Why did his throat suddenly felt like there was a lump clogging it up. Staring at that, sweet, sweet face he hasn’t seen in years.
This was all just some stupid coincidence.
Right?
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”Medkit…?”