#para: chris | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thunderstroked · 1 year ago

Text

Capture Deez || Mona & Chris

TIMING: late october. LOCATION: mossthorn bog. PARTIES: @chrisgates & @thunderstroked SUMMARY: mona finds chris in a rather precarious position. CONTENT: none!

“Just… Stay… Still.” Through the lens of a camera, a warm, brown eye fixed itself on an iridescent dragonfly that sat precariously upon the edge of a leaf. With a breath, it fluttered off into the autumnal breeze. A sigh escaped the photographer. “Why does everything have to be difficult?” He asked himself, but carried on anyway with the hope he might find it again — or something else, something cool or beautiful or interesting. Anything that would look nice on his website or in print. There was a commission at the back of his mind, but right now he needed to not think about work.

Christopher trudged through thick brush and came upon a bit of wet earth that stretched into what he assumed was a swamp of some sort. Or maybe it was that bog he’d heard about? What was the difference, anyway? He didn’t have much time to think about what set them apart or even pull out his phone to do a quick search when he noticed a small, bright light emanating from between the tall cattails and grass. It danced lazily among the foliage, beckoning for him to get closer. That wasn’t like any insect he had ever seen.

Unable to really help himself, the photographer took a step forward; his hiking boot sunk into the soft, water-logged soil a little, enough for anyone to want to return to more solid land, but Chris wanted to keep going. Where there was one, there was another just further ahead — they created a line deeper into the marshland, their dance entrancing and delicate. He really couldn’t say no, even if something in him told him this was wrong.

–

Mona had heard through the grapevine that if in need of a snack, Mossthorn Bog was probably her best bet. Most would visit a convenience store or a restaurant, but the gumiho satiated her hunger with something a little different, a little more uncommon than the typical individual. The ghosts that populated the bog were often the distraught kind, and perhaps if Mona weren’t so hungry, she could listen to the way they begged for their spectral lives, but in all reality, they were already gone– left to be forgotten. A bitterness grew within her regarding spectral entities and what they were meant to provide her, and others like her. Maybe she would be disappointed in herself, but that version had been lost some years ago.

So after she had consumed a ghost or two, she made the move to go back into town. It was a dangerous landscape, and one she shouldn’t expect to be completely unharmed in. There were mumblings of various different species treading over the land, both spectral and not. She hadn’t anticipated to see a human amongst the reeds, but there he was– camera in hand. For a brief moment, Mona considered turning her back. How would she know he wasn’t one of the very beings plastering photos of her gumiho form on the forum boards? But her hesitation got the better of her as soon as she saw what was drawing him into the water.

He was about knee deep now, following after something bright in the air. Mona stared after the object of his sudden desire, and then to the individual. After a moment, she recognized the scent of wet dog. Of course this couldn’t be just a normal human. With a sigh, Mona moved towards them. “Hello?” She called out first, hoping for some reaction.

—

Chris heard the voice. His fingers twitched in response and his head tilted towards it just slightly. He heard it in the back of his mind, but something in him kept him from looking in its direction. He couldn’t bear to tear his eyes from the glowing, blue brilliance before him, unblinking and completely drawn. The wet of the earth was evident and he felt the way it crept up the material of his jeans. It was so cold.

His hands had fallen from their cradling position from beneath the camera and instead hung limply by his sides. But he was too lost in the light before him to be too upset about the piece of photography equipment that now sunk into the mud. He would have at least tried to grab it, to stop its fall, but he did nothing of the sort. Nothing but continue on his dead set path, lured in like a shrimp to an angler fish. He wouldn’t do this… No. This was really wrong. A shaky breath escaped him as the chill from the water crept up further still; for just a second, he paused, but his eyes stayed on the dancing light source.

It dangled tantalizingly in front of him, as if trying to up its efforts after having realized that Chris stopped. No. It wouldn’t take much to continue the pull again, even if his insides urged him in the other way.

—

Her attempt at getting his attention was futile. It almost seemed as though he’d turn around and ask her what she was doing bothering him, but he stayed facing the blue orb of light, gaze transfixed on something that had no pull with her. Mona became slightly frustrated.

She watched in muted horror as the camera in his hands fell into the water. She knew how expensive those things could be, and while she had no personal attachment to the one that Esther– Edith, whatever she was going by here, had forced her to use for the business, she knew that perhaps this specific individual would be less than ecstatic by the loss of his camera. Mona didn’t approach him at first, waiting for him to get a few more steps forward before she was dipping her hands into the water, feeling around for the camera. Once she found it, she pulled it up, frowning as it was now waterlogged and caked in mud. He was not going to be happy.

Mona knew she would need to do something in order to keep him from drowning. She focused all of her energy on the orb of light, doing her best to make it curve around, to return to the shore of the bog. It fought her for a moment, but ultimately relented. She hoped that in changing its direction, it would change the person’s, too. “Just follow it,” Mona muttered under her breath, backing up towards the shore. One hand was extended into the air, palm open and fingers arched as if she were trying to grab the orb of light, and the other was clasped around the soggy camera.

—

Its efforts seemed to have worked. Chris felt his legs mechanically move towards it, his body on complete autopilot, moving through the thick swamp as if he were in a dream. If he were anywhere but the trance he was currently in, he would have noticed that the blue light had changed its trajectory. So instead of the watery grave it had intended on giving him, it led him towards dry land.

He also felt a presence near him; he knew he wasn’t alone, but with the magical blinders on, he couldn’t see who or what it was. It made him nervous as he wasn’t fond of people being in his blind spots, but he couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from the light. What if he did? What if it wasn’t there anymore if he looked back? He didn’t have a good answer for that, couldn’t even bring himself to figure out why he even cared in the first place. All he knew was that he needed to go towards it, to maybe even catch it.

A step in a better direction lowered the water level from over his knees to just below them. Another step found sturdier earth for footing through thick sludge. Unfortunately, with how entranced he was, he couldn’t focus on keeping that balance. What he surmised was probably a stick or some kind, maybe coated with algae, rolled from beneath his sneaker and caused his body to lurch forward. The break in eye contact with the light urged his hands to fly up at the last second, catching himself from getting a face full of mud.

The rest of his body wasn’t as lucky. He blinked and frowned, clearly confused as to why he was in the middle of the swampy lake instead of on solid ground. “What the fuck…” He started, frustration evident in the way he flung the mud from his hands and surveyed the soggy mess that was his clothes.

—

It seemed to be working until it wasn’t. Mona let out a disappointed sigh as the victim of the orb nearly face planted into the mud. He had been so close to the water’s edge, and yet…

Quickly, Mona shook her hand through the air as if to dislodge a bug, and the orb shot off into the distance while the stranger was preoccupied by something else. God forbid he try and chase it. She approached him slowly, wincing as she noticed the way the mud was now caked into his clothes. “You’re in mud.” That much was obvious, so she attempted again, “do you know how you got into the mud?” She didn’t think he would remember, but it was worth a shot. Did it matter at this point? At least he’d been saved.

With another sigh, she held out his camera, water dripping down the lens. “You dropped this, and I tried to save it, but I’m not sure if it actually did save it, or if you’re fucked.” She tucked the camera to her chest and nodded at him. “You should get out of there, you don’t know what kinds of things might be crawling beneath the surface.” It was cryptic, but she figured it was better to give a warning than none at all.

—

As Chris brushed excess mud off the front of his jeans, a woman appeared very suddenly on the bank and graciously captioned his predicament. Her out of thin air visage startled him so much that he lost his balance and fell onto his behind. An irritated sound that was crossed between a sigh and a groan escaped him before he looked up at the stranger with an expression that said he was over it.

“No… I have no clue how I got in here,” he really shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but at least he was still clothed. “I was just.. Walking and taking some pictures..” Suddenly he remembered his camera and looked around him at the mud in a flurry of panic - until she mentioned the camera he so desperately searched for. His shoulders visibly slumped. He didn’t think it could get worse.

“Oh.. I’m fucked,” Chris gave a little nod as he stared at the waterlogged camera. He was ready to get out of the muddy mess, but her warning and the feeling of something squishy between his fingers got him back onto his feet and onto solid earth again real quick. Other than the usual insects or frogs or leeches (did Wicked’s Rest have leeches?), what else lurked beneath the sludge? He didn’t think he wanted to find out.

“Thanks for grabbing it, anyway..” A slight wince was visible in the way his eye twitched when he realized he verbally thanked someone; he completely forgot. “I appreciate you trying. Most people wouldn’t have done that.”

—

Mona watched him carefully. What would she have done in his situation? What if she hadn’t been able to help, especially without confirmation that she too, would not be hurt? She watched as he fell onto his butt, wincing again as the splattering of mud went upward. It caked every inch of him, aside from his face.

The camera was definitely waterlogged and it was beginning to make her wrist ache from how heavy it was. As he spoke, she shook her head. “You’re alive, aren’t you? Better than being dead.” This wasn’t the kind of situation that’d warrant wanting to die, she didn’t think. Even if of embarrassment. Then again, what did she know.

The stranger jumped up with enough vigor that Mona took a small step backward, arching the camera slightly in his direction, ready to chuck it at his head. It didn’t look like he was going to attack her, it looked more or less like he was concerned with what might be beneath the surface of the water.

Relaxing slightly, she nodded. “I’m a photographer too.” It wasn’t much of a lie these days, she did in fact run the business in full, especially with no sight of Edith back in Wicked’s Rest anytime soon. “So I get it, these are expensive.” She looked down at the camera, the full weight of it more obvious now that she wasn’t distracted. “This one is much heavier than the one I use, and before you ask me which one I use, don’t, because I don’t know the brand.” She moved the camera to her other hand before beckoning him forward. “There’s a clear stream over there, you can wash your hands off at least, maybe your feet. But you’re covered in mud.”

—

This wasn’t like the “other” situations. He still had all of his clothes on, albeit they were pretty gross, and there was no blood to be found, no sirens to be heard and no screams to pierce his ears. Nothing but a soggy mess, a broken camera, and a strange woman who left him with more questions than answers.

It could’ve been worse.

Chris, already pretty tired of everything that had happened to him that day already, had to offer her a scoff, but he kept it friendly enough with a sheepish smile. “To be honest, I’m surprised I’m not yet…” Maybe that was a little too morbid when meeting someone for the first time, but he didn’t really care. Besides, she looked like she could handle something a little weird, especially considering where they were.

“Really? How long have you been doing it for?” Despite the obvious loss of his camera, he did perk up at that information; he liked meeting fellow artists, including photographers, even if they were just starting out. “You’re telling me… I’m not stoked about this. And, okay.. that’s fair. Do you like using it, though?”

Chris looked to where she had pointed and, sure enough, there was the stream. He could hear the water just barely rushing by and dancing around rocks, hear the water bubble and dip during little falls. It sounded refreshing. But he also noticed that she still held his camera in her hand - “here, let me take this sad thing with me. I know it’s dead but I should wash it off the best I can anyway…Thank you again for getting it.”

—

The closer he was now, the more he smelled like wet dog and mud. A werewolf’s ability at controlling their shift varied by person, and she didn’t know where this person landed. She was just glad he hadn’t tried to rip her throat out in the confusion. That would have gotten them nowhere, and Mona wasn’t looking to be endangered after helping somebody.

She let out a soft laugh at his comment. At least he was aware of the dangers that were within Wicked’s Rest. Or maybe he was mentioning his werewolf-ness in passing. “Well, I’m sure somebody is glad you aren’t. I’d say I am, but I don’t know you well enough to make that judgment.” She paused, eyebrows knitting together, “I guess I did help you though, so there is a part of me– you know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m glad you’re alive.” She didn’t need to make things complicated with her words as she always did.

“Um…” Mona counted back the months she’d been in Wicked’s Rest, “since… October, maybe? September?” That sounded right. The weight of the camera was annoying now, and if she hadn’t started a conversation with the poor sap that was covered in mud, she might just drop it on the ground. “I took the job for a friend. I’m getting better over time.” Maybe she could trade in saving his life for some lessons, that way people on the internet would stop being cruel about her skills.

He seemed to notice the stream finally, too, and as he requested his camera, she shoved it forward. “Here, it’s kind of heavy now that it’s filled with water.” She wasn’t much for technology, but she knew that submerging it into water probably wouldn’t help its ability to function, but what did she know? Maybe it was waterproof. After handing over the camera, she paused before looking around. “So um, do you know how to get out of here?”

#para: capture deez #para: chris #wickedswriting

5 notes · View notes

realmackross · 2 years ago

Text

PARTIES: @chrisgates @realmackross TIMING: Early November SUMMARY: After a chance encounter crashing into each other on a run, Mack follows Chris back to his motel room for a replacement earbud after hers is destroyed during the collision. However, things don't go quite as planned... WARNINGS: Murder mention tw

Chris ran a lot. If someone asked him whether that statement was literal or figurative, he would say ‘yes’ (it was both, in case you wondered). The irony that he quite literally ran from his problems had dawned on him early on. He didn’t just ignore these problems or stuff them in a closet, never under the rug or behind anything. They were never masked or dealt with head on, either. He ran from them.

As he ran, he had a pair of wired earphones in. There was no music that played, only the muffled beats of his heart and sound of his feet against the ground could be heard. Chris didn’t want a complete distraction from the goings on around him, but he wanted everything to feel less overwhelming. Still, he focused intently on the rhythm of his run, so much so that he missed the figure in his peripheral. Lost in thought, he would have otherwise noticed the young woman early on and missed her.

Unfortunately for him, he ran into her. Literally.

With the run now interrupted and the pair having just experienced a ‘human accident’, Chris looked to her from his crumpled position on the trail. He wasn’t hurt, exactly, but he hadn’t been okay for some time now and his body ached something awful. “Shit. Are you okay?” He asked, though he wanted nothing more than to cut his social time and head home despite the concern he showed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see where I was going.”

—

Running had always been a favorite pastime for Mackenzie. The young actress would head up to Runyon Canyon Park early in the morning before the sun would beat down on Los Angeles, and she’d run until she felt like her feet could no longer carry her. It was the quiet she needed to reset from the previous day’s events and be prepared to face the challenges of a new day. And since leaving, it had been one of the things she had missed most, besides her family and her career.

“Okay, Mack. You can do this. Your feet will adjust.” Of course, since becoming a zombie, running had become harder, and as the depression seemed to set in, so did the effort of wanting to get up off the couch or out of bed that early, especially after a late night binge of stupid reality shows. But today was the day she was going to try, and despite how hard it had been at first, the young zombie found herself in a stride she could handle. It was awkward at first, but she somehow made it work.

With “Body Talks” blasting from her AirPods, Mackenzie wasn’t exactly paying attention to anyone around her, until the collision sent her to the ground with a jolt. As one of the earbuds went flying out, she managed to pick up on the person’s question, and immediately she pressed the pause button and pulled the other earbud out, “I’m so sorry! This is the first time I’ve been running in a while, and I guess I was just in the-” She stopped and laughed softly when he pretty much said the same thing, “That. But, yeah, I’m fine…” Just about the time she said it, she heard the crunch of the AirPod that had gone flying as someone rode past them on a bicycle and ran it over, “But my earbud isn’t.” Her expression dropped as she reached out for the crushed pieces that remained on the ground.

—

Chris was grateful the other person was physically okay; he didn’t really want to have to deal with an injury, especially one that wasn’t his own. He’d stay if she was, of course — he wasn’t an asshole, but he wouldn’t want to. It wasn’t the ideal situation, so he was relieved to hear that she was actually alright. His face fell, however, when he heard the AirPod’s demise. Oh, no. He’d been there before with wired headphones, but wired or not losing even one was brutal.

“Aw, man.. That sucks, I’m sorry.” No, don’t do it. “If it’s any consolation..” What are you doing? Stop! “I have another one?” Oh, you idiot. “I picked it up randomly on another jog the other day. I was gonna maybe sell it or something but.. Could you use it? I’d rather it go to someone who needs it.” His father liked to call him a hypocrisy — too soft in the heart, but a monster in the brain. Chris liked to hold onto his softness. It helped to let him know that he wasn’t all bad, but it went against everything that screamed inside him. He feared for her safety; he feared for his own.

“I don’t uh, have it on me, though.” He tried to look as unassuming as possible; in a strange town there were strange people and even though he was just a tad bit strange, he didn’t want her to think he had any ulterior motives. Not to mention the room was in such a state he wouldn��t really want her back there anyway.

—

“No, it’s…it’s fine. It’s not like the day of headphones with wires, right? Where if one came out, it didn’t really go anywhere, but dangle.” Mackenzie looked down at the busted earbud. Technology was nice, but also could be such a nuisance at times. Airpods were expensive, but it’s not like she couldn’t afford a new set. She just didn’t really want to fork over the money right now. However, it seemed her new jogging buddy had given a solution to the problem. But did she really want a used earbud that had been shoved down in someone else’s sweaty ear? She was a walking corpse, sure, but she still got grossed out by things. She hadn’t lost that part of herself.

“Not trying to be rude here, but is there a way to clean airpods without messing them up?” It was probably a dumb question. She still wanted to know, before accepting the offer, not even thinking if there were any other kind of motives behind his offer. She had just been a zombie out for a run trying to enjoy her day, “You know what? I’ll figure it out. Yes, yeah. I’ll take it, because Airpods aren’t cheap and you’re being so kind.” Mackenzie smiled warmly towards the man in front of her. “But first I suppose we should get up off the ground, right? Then we can figure out a meet up time or I can go with you now? Whatever you want to do.”

Shifting her weight, Mack planted her knees into the dirt path, before taking it one foot after the other. The neuropathy in her feet didn’t help matters, but as long as she could just get her footing, she’d be fine. It was a slow process though, and she felt so much older than she really was; bones popping and creaking as she straightened up. “Shit, I’m getting too old for this.” It felt weird to say, but even as she stretched her neck out it popped. Being a zombie really did a number on a person.

—

“I mean… I do like not being restricted, but the wire is kind of like a bungee cord.. I guess. They did hurt, though, if you got one of them snagged.” Chris winced as if remembering a past incident, as if he knew the pain well. Airpods were expensive and that’s exactly why he didn’t have a pair – well, a working pair, anyway. And he didn’t even have a pair, he had just the one bud which he offered so freely to the blonde he’d just careened into moments before. That was fine, he wasn’t going to use it.

“Um…” Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure. He’d have to look it up online and see if there was a Youtube video or something on it. He’d imagine there might be a way, but it would take patience and delicate hands, and he didn’t think either of them were keen on giving that a go. “I mean.. Maybe there’s something online? It does sound kind of gross, but.. People clean technology all the time. Like the phone repair techs. They clean some stuff, too, I imagine. I’m sure it’s possible.” Chris nodded. “I guess yeah. Can’t stay down here forever. Um.. Actually, you know what? I’ll leave it up to you… I’m kind of staying in a motel right now and I know how people feel about them.” The Bearcliff Motel was a cute, quaint motel — one he was close to getting kicked out of because of the damage from that one nightmare of a night.

He had to laugh, softly, at her comment. “You?” He was about to playfully ask if she was younger than him, but then realized that it could be something else. He didn’t want to be insensitive. “Are you okay?” He asked instead, choosing concern over a joke. He did have to wonder if he maybe hit her a little too hard.

—

Once Mackenzie was on her feet and steady, she turned her attention back to the man, “You are right about those things getting snagged. It’s like one minute you’re using an elliptical and the next, you’re choking yourself.” She shuddered at the thought as she slowly straightened up. “And there has to be some kind of video online. It would be ridiculous to think there wasn’t since you can practically find anything.” The internet was a ridiculously great source for finding information on the most random things. It was those moments when you went down a rabbit hole, especially a reddit rabbit hole, that could be scary, but cleaning an earbud couldn’t be that hard to figure out right?

Pulling her phone out, she glanced at the time, “I’ve got all day. And from someone who’s grown up spending the night in hotels and motels, I’m sure it’s fine.” She smiled softly at him as she moved forward, “Name’s Mackenzie, by the way.” Sticking out her hand, she shoved the phone back into her pocket with the other one. He seemed nice enough, and if he tried anything, he’d be in for a real surprise.

—

The laugh that came out of Chris was more of a bark than anything, but it was genuine as he thought back to the numerous (and accidental) earbud chokings. “I guess that’s the fun of them. They keep you on your toes,” he joked, but couldn’t help the slight groan that followed the memories. “There has to be, I’m positive. I would’ve done it when I first found it but… I only had the one and I’m not really into Apple so…” he trailed off, not wanting to get into it but not knowing how she’d feel. He’d met too many diehards, on both sides, to really want to talk about that in depth.

Her absolute normalcy towards him staying in a motel gave him a lot of relief. Too many people assumed that if it was a motel that automatically made it dingy, dirty and dank and a breeding ground for all sorts of nefarious activities. The Bearcliff was anything but, despite the only channel available being horror. “Okay cool, that’s a relief.. I’m Chris, it’s nice to meet you.” He looked back to where he had come from before jerking his thumb in that same direction. “It’s down this way, maybe like… a fifteen minute walk. A jog is faster if you’re still up for it?” He punctuated with a sheepish laugh that faded out. God, please don’t be creepy.

—

“Right?” It was nice having someone who shared her same sentiment on corded earbuds. There had been one too many missteps, so when the airpods came out, it was a nice relief not rounding a corner and snagging the wire on something just to have it rip out, what felt like your eardrum, in the process. “Hey, I get it. The Apple and Android debate is just as bad as politics. To each their own, and I’m just gonna be grateful to have another airpod without buying a new set.” Mackenzie shot him a grateful smile.

“Yeah, no judgment here whatsoever. You’d be surprised at some of the places I’ve had to stay before for my work.” It was true. Some were super fancy, while others had a random bug or two or fifty crawling around when you turned out the lights. That was a stay Mack would never forget and shuddered thinking back on it. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Chris.” She looked past him as if seeing the motel he was talking about up ahead, “I think I can handle a jog as long as it’s not too fast. I might have to stop and walk some, but let's do it.” It’s not like she really ran out of breath, but her feet did do funny things sometimes. However, it would be nice having a jogging buddy this time around, instead of resuming her run on her own. “Lead the way.”

—

He was grateful that she didn’t fight him on it. That would be a stupid thing to get into an argument over, a stupid thing to get worked up about and end up having a bad day because of it. And he was happy that he could give her a little help — he really hoped that the bud would work, both physically and being able to pair it with the other one. He wasn’t in the know with Apple’s programming, but he assumed the bluetooth would act similarly. “Fingers crossed the little guy works. It didn’t look like it was sitting outside for too long, so maybe the elements didn’t get to it.”

“Oh, good. I mean.. Not good that some of the places are less than stellar. What do you do for work?” Chris’ mind wandered the potential job options that would allow her to travel. Some of them he couldn’t really see her doing, just from knowing her for those short few minutes, but people could be surprising. “Oh no, nothing faster than like… maybe even a speed walk. I am on the tail end of my run…” He would be glad for those moments of walking in between, if only to maybe share a line of dialogue or two before they had to jog again. She was nice and friendly and didn’t think staying in a motel was creepy — he actually wanted to talk to her.

Their journey took a little less time than Chris originally predicted. His anxiety spiked a little when the motel came into view, but he urged on and led Mackenzie from the trail to the sidewalk to the parking lot and then to the front entrance. The lobby matched the retro exterior, maybe even pushing the style further, but it was cozy and what drew him there in the first place. Not to mention its distance from too public of places. “Sorry for the mess… The window, uh, is broken and they still have to fix it. It’s been kind of a headache,” he explained sheepishly when he opened the room door and stepped inside.

“You can come in, if you want. I think I put that little guy.. Over here…” He drifted off as he wandered over towards a bookcase in the far corner of the room, by the bed and by the window. The desk sat on an adjacent wall and a laundry basket sat beside the bedside table. There were clothes strewn beneath the bed and a backpack sat by the bathroom door. Camera equipment and photographs littered every other occupied space.

—

Her attempt at getting back into physical activity had proved successful in a different way than she had even imagined. Mackenzie was glad to have been on the path to making another friend, and the jog to his motel was rather pleasant. She had explained her career as an actress. Talked more in depth about the earbud that had started the whole thing. And included some other various topics, including mentioning an old lady she had come to know since coming to Wicked’s Rest. It had become a regular thing to take her meals and visit with her.

When they made it to the motel, Mackenzie could totally see the appeal of the place. It was quaint and surprisingly welcoming to look like she was stepping back in time. And as she followed Chris to his room, she took in the sights around her. Maybe a potential location for a movie if she ever got back into things, since Goo Girl was just on the horizon, and the real possibility of what could jump start her career again.

As they reached the room, she glanced back behind her to take note of the other rooms and numbers on the doors, before walking in, “Hey, my house is a complete and utter disaster, so I get it. I’m sorry about the window. I know that’s gotta be annoying, especially since it’s starting to get colder outside.” She moved closer in and shut the door behind her. “Are you a professional photographer or is it more of a hobby?” She had caught sight of the equipment and started to step closer to it, “Do you mind if I take a look?” Mackenzie didn’t want to impose if he didn’t want her to see his work, and stopped moving just until he actually gave her permission.

—

An actress? In Wicked’s Rest? He had heard about the recent movie that was circulating — an unusual title if he had ever heard one, but who was he to question art? The conversation continued on pleasant enough, until she mentioned an older woman she liked to spend time with. There was something there that made his stomach drop, made him remember the taste of iron and hair. It was pushed away as much as he was able, but it stuck to the back of his mind as they made their short trek.

Chris shrugged at her apology, his smile nothing short of sheepish. “It’s okay, th-... Thanks. Freak accident with a… Tree. I kind of run hot, so the cold never really bothered me much. I mean, I get cold, but it's not too bad..” The moment he heard the door close, he tensed slightly. You’re fine, he thought, you’re fine and she probably wasn’t going to hurt you. Get over it. So he ignored that feeling and opened a box up that he thought he put the bud in. No dice. “Professional, I guess. I do a lot of freelance work, a lot of contract stuff. I’ve been taking pictures my whole life, it feels like.”

He looked from the bookcase to the nightstand and frowned in thought before making his way over to it and the guitar case that looked like it had toppled over in the night. His eyes drifted from the table to where Mackenzie focused her attention on and nodded, “oh yeah, sure. That one has a few buttons that like to stick, just uh… to let you know.” Chris sighed when he realized that the wireless earbud case he had the lone Airpod in had fallen off the side table thanks to the guitar. He must have knocked it over in his sleep.

“I think I found it, sorry that took a minute,” he apologized as he moved the guitar and a jacket away from the corner, hoping to find just the earbud case. Instead he caught sight of a bloodied blouse, blue in color and wildly out of place. With hurry, he covered it the best he could with another clothing item before standing to full height with case in hand. Maybe she hadn’t seen. Maybe she’d be thrilled to see the lone white Airpod and forget the room around her. Or maybe she’d see the stained sleeve of a cardigan that peeked from the hole in a shopping bag that had been tied tightly with at least four knots. It sat by the bathroom door, next to the backpack.

He had meant to take it out that morning.

—

It was funny. Someone that ran hot while she ran cold. Did that mean he was something of the supernatural sort too? Mack wasn’t about to ask. That was his own personal business. Just like how her being a zombie was her own personal business, “As long as you don’t mind it, that’s what counts.” Once she was given permission, she began to move forward again.

“That’s amazing. I’m sure you’ve got some great work and experience under your belt then.” She had always loved photography. Photoshoots could get tiring, but she did like how they turned out. She wasn’t always too fond of the editing some photographers and magazines did though. It wasn’t fair to the viewers. People turned to celebrities to identify with them and their characters. How was that possible when you looked artificially made? “I’ll just be a spectator then.”

Mackenzie glanced over towards him and smiled, her eyes falling on the guitar, “Do you play?” One of the things she had missed dearly was making music, “I was just starting my music career when…” She paused and faded off. “Funny how life gets in the way of things huh?” Biting her bottom lip, she continued to tour the room while he looked for the earbud. But her tour was soon cut short at the sight of what appeared to be a bloody sleeve, and Mackenzie’s breath caught in her throat.

Maybe he had just cut himself working on something or maybe…There had to be a number of excuses running through the young woman’s mind at the moment, until she noticed the snag on that particular sleeve covered in a dark crimson, which peering in closer, held the exact same stitching pattern like a sweater that she had specifically told Ms. Bea looked like something her grandmother used to have.

“You know what? It’s fine, if you haven’t found it yet. I’ve gotta get going anyways. Just remembered I was supposed to meet a friend.” Would the excuse work? If he asked for specifics she had friends she could call. Make the excuse more legit and even let someone important know she was potentially in danger…

Mackenzie inched closer to the door trying to stay calm; taking note of everything she could potentially use as a weapon if she absolutely needed to.

—

“Yeah, right.. Plus, it’s not so bad. I get fresh air now… The window was sticking, so I could never really open it all the way.” It did make him nervous to think that anyone could get in, but it was a good escape route if the door were to ever be a problem. In truth, even though he was pretty sure he was the one who caused it, it gave him some comfort to know that he wasn’t completely boxed in.

Chris shrugged again in the presence of her praise, praise that shouldn’t have been given because she hadn’t even seen his work. She wouldn’t know — she was just trying to be nice. “I guess so. I, um.. I have a website. And I can show you some of the stuff on there if you want,” he gestured to the finicky camera she had pointed out a moment before. “I think that one has a bunch of pictures of flowers. I think. Either that or the ocean…. I can’t remember, honestly.”

He paused in his search to smile at the guitar before he nodded at Mackenzie. “A little. I’m just starting out. I might be tone deaf, though. Or just shit at tuning it,” he laughed as he set the guitar upright. He noted the way she paused, sobered slightly, and chose not to question it. One, it wasn’t his place, and two, they just met. He didn’t expect her to just tell her life story to a stranger. Instead he nodded and offered her a sympathetic smile. “Life just sucks like that.”

Suddenly the energy in the room changed. It felt like it dropped, as if someone had lowered the temperature. He looked up from the case in his hand to the blonde, confusion evident on his face. He was never one to push, he knew better than that, but he didn’t like to be left wondering if he’d done something. It was an unusual situation at best — most people wouldn’t be too keen with following a stranger back to their motel room, especially for a single Airpod, so maybe it was that — but everything had been fine until now. So what changed?

“.... Did I.... Are you sure? I have it right here.. If you need to go you can just.. Take it with you..” He offered the case out at an arm’s length, deciding it was better not to step toward her — he noted the need for distance, he noted the sudden chill that filled the room. He’d been in that same spot and he hated it. He didn’t know what he did, though. He thought everything had been okay; did she see? Is that what happened? Chris felt his throat grow tight. “Are you.. Okay? I..”

—

Mackenzie hated feeling like this. He had seemed so nice, but she knew within her heart that that sweater belonged to someone who wasn’t him. How could she have been so dumb to go back to his place for an earbud she could have just bought herself. It’s not like she wasn’t stupid rich. Instead, she listened to him speak. Kept her eyes trained on him, refusing to turn her back to him. She would be at the door soon enough and could make her escape right? He wouldn’t come after her. It was the middle of the day. The sun was shining. Maybe she was overreacting, but it was quickly reminding her of the stalker situation that happened years prior to her ever coming to Wicked’s Rest.

“No, it’s fine. You know, now that I think about it, it probably won’t work not being the original that came with the set.” At that point it didn’t even matter. He could keep it. Maybe sell it to someone else. But in that moment, her mind racing with too many thoughts at once, she let her eyes glance from him and the earbud to the bag she had seen with the bloody clothes. Like the ocean sending a wave straight towards her, the air was knocked out of her realizing what she had done. Mackenzie’s eyes quickly darted back to Chris’ to see if he had noticed.

Without answering, she turned and started to make her way to the door, and in a desperate chance at fleeing, started to fumble with getting the door open. Come on, come on, come on!!! Shit. Shit. Shit!!!!

—

It never ceased to surprise him at just how quickly he was able to mess something up.

And it was usually when things were just getting good — the end of an all around decent date, meeting the same runner on the same path a few times a week, getting to know someone and finding a lot in common. It wasn’t in the beginning or the very end, it was just after the start, just at the apex as the climb started to reach the curve upwards. And then he’d fall, which arguably was the worst part for him. Not the hard hit when he met the ground, but knowing that it was just going to happen anyway and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Of course he followed her gaze. He wanted to find something, anything, that could explain the sudden shift in her mood. When he saw it and looked back to her, he was sure his expression showed how his heart dropped into his stomach. A small flicker told him, no, she didn’t see it, no way, but her immediate and hurried draw to the door told him otherwise. Her fumbling only made him feel sick.

“Waitwaitwait, Mackenzie, it’s not —” he set the earbud case down onto his desk and wanted nothing more than to reach for her, but that was probably the absolute last thing she needed right now, so he kept his distance and begged instead, “— it’s not what it looks like! Just — let me explain, please.”

—

Mackenzie continued to fight with the door, but couldn’t get it open out of the fear that was behind her. For someone well trained in fighting and already dead, it was the past trauma she had experienced keeping a tight grip on her mind. She had just wanted to escape, but for whatever reason, she couldn’t get the fucking door open, and like a caged and fearful animal, she quickly turned back around, and pressed her back up against the door refusing to move any further, “What!? What is there to explain? That’s my friend’s sweater…and there’s blood on it…What did you do to her?!”

Her eyes were wide and her chest heaved up and down as she glanced from the bag to Chris and back to the bag again.

The night she had come home from a long day on set to find a man she had never met in her life waiting in the dark in her bedroom had been forever ingrained in her mind. And though it wasn’t quite the same situation now, she was trapped with someone who she knew could potentially overpower her. Luckily, for Mackenzie that night, she had used self-defense techniques she had learned to escape what could have been worse than what it had been. But, now, here she was once again trapped in a room with someone she didn’t really know, “Please, please just let me go. I promise I’m not going to tell anybody…” Could she really keep that promise though? That little old lady had a family and friends. People who loved her. Mack had loved her.

Tears had already started coming to her eyes as she pleaded with Chris waiting for him to explain himself.

—

Chris felt too aware of how small the room actually was when she snapped at him with absolute horror in her voice. It sent a shockwave of guilt, grief and disgust through him, causing him to wrap his arms tightly around himself. This was the first time he was dealing with someone who actually knew the deceased — the meal. His fingertips dug into the pits between his ribs. He started to shake. Regret was surely evident on his face, but that didn’t matter to her. He didn’t blame her for being scared of him or angry. He had… He had killed someone that she loved. He remembered it, most of it anyway. Enough to know that it was stupid for him to feel his eyes sting with tears. He didn’t deserve to feel like that, not with the way she was looking at him.

The pit in his stomach only grew and he felt heavier and heavier with each passing second. Anything he thought to say, that might explain what happened, or help alleviate whatever pain she was going through, only sounded stupid and pointless. There was nothing to say. It all just sounded like an excuse.

A tightness weaseled its way into Chris’ chest, prompting his heart to beat faster. He suddenly felt very warm and a wave of dread washed over him. Oh, no. Not now, please. Pleasepleaseplease, not now. The begging mantra repeated over and over in his head, but it wouldn’t work. He didn’t know why he even bothered. He shook his head quickly, clearly distressed. It was unclear if he was shaking his head at her or his own thoughts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t me.. It was an accident…” Accident. He sounded pathetic and like a liar. “Y-you can.. Go. Just….” He wasn’t trying to keep her there on purpose, the door was just a little shit. But could he really trust that she wouldn’t say anything? “P-pull the.. The d-doorknob out… and then.. just…”

He dropped his head as a small groan escaped him. The pressure against his side turned sharp and painful. He felt the skin along his arms ripple. A shadow started to creep in from the edges of his vision, but he foolishly tried to fight against it. When would he learn that there was no stopping it?

—

Her back remained pressed up against the door as hard as she could, the thought in her mind that if she just pushed a little harder, she could break through. But Mackenzie knew that would never happen unless she were a hungry, raging zombie desperate for blood and flesh. Instead, she watched him. Never letting her eyes leave any part of his body, but something seemed off. His words started to sound different. She knew something about him was off, but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it.

Mackenzie was torn on whether or not she should turn around and take her eyes off of him or stay trained on what was coming, but if it was something bad, which by the look on his face, she could tell it was, what was she going to do?

Making the snap decision to turn back around, the zombie once again fumbled with the door trying to open it. Why did old motels always have shitty door knobs? What was it he said?! Pull and what?! Mackenzie continued every method she could think of, before finally feeling it give.

—

It was a strange feeling to lose control over the body. The mind went heavy at first, cloudy and dark, until the feeling dropped down to the rest of the body and started twisting the bones and muscles into something else. Chris would feel his consciousness fall into a cold nothingness, but he was still aware of what was going on with his body. He couldn’t stop it, but he could feel all of it. He was paralyzed, reduced to nothing but a suit of skin and meat. A vessel to hold the monster inside.

He knew that Mackenzie was still in the room, still struggling with the door. He could hear the way her panic made the doorknob clink. But he couldn’t call out to her anymore. He was too busy being replaced. It was a jarring sight — the way his body stretched and distorted in that too domesticated bedroom, littered with photographs and clothing and signs of life other than the violence that clawed its way forth.

It was getting better at this. Coming from behind the mind and stepping into the spine to alter the rest of the man’s body started to become easier, faster. It managed to finish the rest of its fur growth and lock its bad shoulder into place before the woman could get the door open. There was no confidence that their secret would be kept, so in a flurry of anger and fear, the creature lurched forward with its claws and teeth bare, intent on meeting flesh and tasting blood.

—

She was almost free, but it was too late. The sound of bones breaking and twisting into something new had caused a pause of fear in her. It was something she hadn’t witnessed in person. She knew of them. Her best friend was one. But Mackenzie was now standing in the presence of a werewolf. And any actions to move forward proved unsuccessful as she could barely smell its rank breath from behind. You’re a fucking zombie. Do something, Mackenzie?! However, that something was unreachable at the moment. She didn’t know how to just tap into it. It had always been provoked by injury or death or…fear.

Her mind was starting to dumb down, and her eyes began to glaze over. Mackenzie could feel the feral side of herself starting to come out. A rage of her own started to brew and simmer. One that told her not to back down, but it had also slowed down her reaction time, and when her eyes drifted down to the door, she was still holding onto, she had forgotten why she was trying to leave. Only that there was something in the room that she was longing to taste.

—

Claws met their mark. They dragged against her back while she remained stagnant by the door. But the closer they were, the stronger that smell was. It was nasty and unfortunately familiar, though largely avoided by the beast whenever it was on the hunt. It had been noticeable before, yet muted and not overly bothersome — until now. Not food. That meant this would be more difficult to handle, to keep quiet and continue to ignore and pretend that it never even happened.

Beneath it all, the odor was able to reach Chris, despite the solitary darkness his consciousness remained in while the furred creature made another move to strike the blonde before it. If she could not be food, then she would be torn apart and buried like the rest. With such a small room and such small prey, despite the smell, the beast was under the impression this would end favorably for it.

—

As she felt the claws rake down her back slicing through deadened skin, Mackenzie let out a loud hiss that caused her to drop to her knees. That was just the thing she had needed to start to shift into full zombie mode. She would rip into that furry flesh and have a filling meal before it was all said and done. And as she slowly climbed her way back to her feet using items around her, she then slowly turned with no fear whatsoever and a hollow expression and inched forward with arms outstretched ready to grab with her hands and tear with her teeth.

It was then that Mack saw more claws coming at her, but this time they swiped her face leaving deep wounds in the money maker, which had further angered her. An airy demented noise coming from her mouth, she lurched forwards despite already being injured with her maw gaping wide and a mixture of foam, blood, and drool leaving her mouth. One good tear with her teeth in the right place and the dumbed down dead girl would be able to overtake the big hairy beast.

—

Not normal, not normal. She fell, a success, but then she got back up again, which was a rousing disappointment. Combined with the smell, the wolf was horribly confused. It didn’t like that she wouldn’t stay down, it didn’t like that she seemed to be run on a wire, dead set on meeting it on the other side. No, it didn’t like that at all, and somewhere underneath, Chris really didn’t like that.

Another left hook sent claws like kitchen knives into Mack’s face; they felt the skin give way, and saw the way her meat and blood oozed within their newly formed flesh ravines. And yet she still continued, her face void of any expression the monster was able to read. There was nothing. Nothing but the vacant look in her eyes and the viscous liquids that dribbled from her searching mouth. Worth it? No, not really. She certainly wasn’t food and the brain seemed to disappear, but would it come back, neither of them knew. All they knew was that they didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Nothing changed and she kept getting back up — that wasn’t very fun or fulfilling.

So the beast lashed out again, either to knock her down or mar her flesh once more, and retreated to the window which overlooked the bed and bookcase. A shelf was knocked down in its clamber through the sill, but it offered the blonde a frustrated snarl before breaking what little glass remained and disappearing into the night, leaving Chris’ bedroom to the zombie.

#para: chris #para: wolf in sheep's clothing #chrisgates #murder mention tw #wickedswriting

4 notes · View notes