efingcod

[efingcod]

Silent Decay

Disclaimer: This fic contains content that may be unsuitable for readers uncomfortable with profanity, body horror or grotesque visuals. It is a psychological horror story featuring me and my friends' OCs! Story is all written by me!

The age description to read this fic is 16+ so if you're younger than that, please avoid reading this! Proceed with caution, and enjoy! (Don't worry! You may opt out of this fic if you like, self-care is absolute necessary <3)

Special thanks to @efingcod, @imagoddamnonionmason, and @alypink for allowing me to use their OCs for this collab fic! Park and Adler belong to Black Ops: Cold War, by Treyarch!

MASTERLIST.

PART THREE.

PART TWO

Two days had passed, and everything seemed normal as usual, with Timmy outside the house, somehow on the ground and not eating anything even if Mila already poured the food for him early in the morning. 

However, it was not looking good for Jodie. She could feel the change in herself, slowly. She stepped into the warm shower again, the steam filling the bathroom. When she wiped the mirror clear, she was taken aback by what she saw. The dark circles under her eyes had deepened, and now her skin looked almost translucent, faint veins visible beneath the surface.

Lightly touching her face, turning it sideways for a better glimpse of it. She suddenly got a painful flashback of the basement door, which stings her brain. But instead of being worried about it, she chooses to ignore; thinking that stress may be the sole reason. “It’s just stress. Nothing else, Jay. Get over it.” 

Maybe she was trying to distract herself from how the cough was making her lightly suffer; it feels like it was now choking her. She didn’t want to point it out to anybody. She said she was alright.

Mila went outside to check onto Timmy, only to find that he wasn’t eating. She walks towards the dog and kneels down, gently petting it. “What's going on, Timmy? You’re not hungry?”

Timmy whimpered and looked at Mila, sadly. To cheer him up, Mila came up with an idea. “You’ll come inside and eat with us, is it okay for you?”

Timmy’s eyes lightened up with excitement, drooling as he wagged his tail. Mila giggles and takes off the leash on the log that he was tied on, so she could take him inside for breakfast. She placed the bowl on the laminate flooring, next to their table as Timmy approached closer to his food and started to eat.

Mila calls them down for breakfast with the small bell in her hand. Hearing the faint bell ring, Jodie quickly hides her visible weakness with her long, brunette hair, and makes her way downstairs.

Mila had set the plates, having pancakes with butter and honey for breakfast with fresh coffee. Vincent, as usual, arrived with his usual enthusiasm, ready to devour breakfast, Jodie also joins at the dining table and starts to eat her food, and Timmy who was already distracted by his food. Mila was setting her plate, her attention moved towards the basement door. As much as she tried to convince herself to not think about it, Mila couldn’t.

“Timmy’s eating inside now?” Vincent asked, observing their dog was now joining them to eat in the room.

“I thought if we kept him inside, he’d feel a little better. Perhaps he worries about Jodie's condition.” Mila replied, eating onto her food as she watched Timmy eat in silence.

While eating, Jodie felt an unusual taste to the pancakes, much to her disgust yet bewilderment. “Why is there no sugar in the pancakes?” She asked, her voice edged with confusion.

“No sugar?” Vincent looked at her, confused. “What do you mean? They’ve got honey in them.”

“I don’t know.” Jodie muttered, sighing as she eyed at her food. “I just don’t taste anything sweet.”

Timmy gently wagged his tail, softly whining but not in pain. She let out a small groan and kept eating, forcing down each bite. The food was warm, filling but utterly tasteless. And for some reason, that unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. 

“How’s your health?” Mila asked, despite the little issue Jodie was facing.

“Hm? Yeah, it’s uhm – good so far? I feel like I’m recovering.” She replied while stuffing the pancakes in her mouth. “But my muscles hurt a bit. Since last night they hurt like I got cramps.”

“This happens when you’re sick, so don’t worry about it.” Vincent explained, as he chewed on his pancakes while talking to Jodie.

“But I haven’t even done any exercise for a while now. My body felt so weak that I didn’t even feel like doing it.” Jodie casts her head down, gripping onto the end of the fork as she wonders. “I don’t even feel like doing anything..”

Jodie gulped the liquid forming in her throat, growing nervous. Her eyebrows were knitted, as concern striked through her already weak face, but she masked it well, hiding the growing distress from Mila and Vincent. They didn’t need to know. She couldn’t let them worry.

Jodie continues to eat her pancakes, coughing once more, as Mila and Vince felt pure worry for their little sister. Somehow, Vincent had lost his appetite because he can’t seem to eat freely while seeing his sister in this condition. 

Trying to voice her worry towards her younger sister, Mila finally speaks up. “We can go to the doctor if you wa—”

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine, guys.”

Mila noticed the strain in Jodie’s voice, seeing the way she forced herself to eat, and coughed abnormally. Jodie was always stubborn, always brushing things off, but this? This wasn’t normal, at all.

The breakfast went a bit unsettling, Mila made her way upstairs to her room after cleaning everything up, staring at herself in her dressing mirror for a bit. She tried to set her own hair, and kept a smile, but it didn’t really feel genuine. It felt forced. It felt like she was just trying to smile through the pain but all she wanted was things to go better as soon as possible. 

She couldn’t bear to see her siblings in distress, as being the elderly sister, a lot of responsibilities fell on her shoulder ever since their mother’s death, which did make her sacrifice her happiness for the sake of the other two. Adler’s absence was only making it worse for her to keep living, but the best she could do was to stay strong.

Vincent was in the bathroom, washing his face with water as he rubbed his skin with his fingers, running them up his hair and stared at himself in the mirror too. The water droplets fall through his face, exhaling as the man closely observes his own self. It felt like this man was uncertain, yet helpless of what’s going to happen. It wasn’t just Jodie’s health that gnawed at him. It was everything. The house, the responsibilities, to get to his dream college, the unspoken fears that neither he nor Mila dared to voice. He had always tried to shake it off, to keep moving forward, but the stress always had a way of creeping back in.

He exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the sink. They were all barely holding on. And yet, none of them were willing to admit it. “It’ll be fine, Vincent. You can do this. This isn’t your worst yet. Or.. maybe it is, and I tend to brush it off because I don’t wish anything horrible to happen to our family.” Vincent pursed his lips, holding onto any remaining hope within his own self. 

But, Jodie was going through it as well. Staring at herself in the mirror, the veins and her slightly bloodshot eyes clearly visible on her face. She was confused, yet troubled by what was truly happening to her, yet she chose to believe these symptoms would go away and this sickness is limited to a few days. She’ll be fine, she knows it.

Jodie knew Mila and Vincent were already carrying too much. She didn’t want to add to the weight pressing down on the house. Watching Mila take care of everything, even when she was sick, pretending she was fine, made something shift inside her. Jodie wanted to be strong too. She wanted to share the burden, to be someone Mila could finally lean on, not someone she had to worry about.

She later saw Timmy entering her room, with the medicines that he grabbed with his mouth. Jodie smiles and grabs the tablets from him. “Thank you, hero.” She chuckles and Timmy sits down, looking at Jodie as he wags his tail, seeing her take the medicine tablets and gulping it all with water, sighing as she makes her way to her warm bed.

“Go downstairs, Timmy.. I’ll be back once I wake up.” Resting for the day and for the body, she laid herself on the mattress, sniffing as she closed her eyes, falling into a deep sleep instantly. Timmy stayed there for a few seconds, making sure everything was okay before he went downstairs to check on the others.

The scene had shifted to evening, and Mila had to get groceries because their supply was running low. The quiet of the house seemed heavier, the air thicker with unspoken worries. She glanced at the shelves, realizing just how much they'd been scraping by. They couldn’t afford to fall behind now.

“I’m going to get some items from the store.” Mila said, her voice firm, though it barely masked the tiredness in her eyes. “You stay here and keep an eye on Jodie. She needs more attention than anything.”

Vincent nodded as Mila stepped out, the door creaking slightly before clicking shut behind her. Left alone, he sighed, letting his feet wander aimlessly around the room. His thoughts drifted, his gaze skimming over every object in the house, lingering on old furniture with framed photographs, and slightly worn out paint from the walls. Just then, Timmy entered the room, wagging his tail happily as he saw Vincent. He lightly barked at him, rubbing his head on his leg, asking for attention. The man kneeled down and rubbed his back, as he softly whined.

Mila waited for a cab to come by the road, heading to town to get the groceries. One finally arrived and stepped in the vehicle, as it left for town. While travelling, the vehicle also passed by Aunt Park’s house. Seeing it for a few seconds before she could pass by it, it looked quite silent from the inside. With no lights, or activity. 

With Mila gone, Vincent quickly shut the door, and hurdled up to Adler’s room, opening the door and began to search for the basement keys. 

Through every drawer, cabinets, closet, the table and under the pillow, blanket or bed, his only goal was to find the keys. But then, his attention went towards the family photo that was placed onto the wall. He walks closer, carefully observes it. It had the image of Adler with Jodie, Mila and Vincent as small kids, smiling and hugging their father while they had their photo taken back there. After putting his utmost attention to the frame, he carefully grabs it, and takes it down, finally finding the set of keys that led to the basement.

Grabbing them and placing the frame back in its place, he stepped out of the room, only to find Timmy wagging his tail, patiently waiting for Vince to return.

He shut the door behind him and hurried downstairs, his footsteps light yet urgent. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked if anyone was watching before making his way to the basement. His hands trembled slightly as he unlocked the door, pushing it open with a creak that echoed through the empty house.

Darkness swallowed everything beyond the threshold. Vincent hesitated for a moment but quickly pulled out his flashlight, turning it on. A beam of light cut through the void.

“You stay here, okay?” he whispered, placing a firm hand on Timmy’s head before stepping inside alone.

The entrance led to a short staircase descending into the basement. He moved carefully, placing each foot down with caution, avoiding any creaks that might betray his presence.

Once below, he swept his flashlight across the space. Rows of storage boxes lined the shelves, old childhood toys, forgotten belongings, stacks of things that should’ve been mundane. But as his gaze lingered, unease settled in his gut.

If this was just a couple of storage, why did Russell spend so much time down here?

Unlike the rest, Vincent was the one to notice Russell often going down the basement for HOURS, giving excuses that he has to arrange the shelves, or figure out which items in there need to be thrown. No matter how many times they've asked him about it, Adler never revealed anything.

Now, that it's time, the man would do anything to know what's going on.

As Vincent was busy exploring the whole basement, delving deeper into the large, abandoned room which was never properly taken care of, covered in dust and cobwebs, could start to feel the uneasiness around his surroundings. His attention was mostly towards the walls of the basement, something which caught his immediate attention.

BURN IT ALL.

Growing closely to the source, he ran his flashlight towards the surface, reading something that was written and creased all over it in bold letters. “Burn it.. all?”

While studying what was over the wall, a sharp, metallic crash echoed through the basement, cutting through the silence like a knife. Vincent flinched, his whole body jolting in reaction as a shiver ran down his spine. The dull vibration still filled through the room, before everything fell still again. 

His breath hitched. His grip tightened around the flashlight. Something had fallen.

He slowly ran the light toward the source, spotting a round container tipped over, an unusual red substance spilling out. At first, it seemed like a can of paint fell over. But as he stepped closer..

"Gasp!" Vincent loudly gasped as he clenched his chest.

Organs. Guts spilled across the floor, glistening under the flashlight. The stench of blood and bile filled the air, making his stomach twist. No matter how hard he tried to forget, the sight before him was something he could never have imagined, something he could never erase from his mind.

“W-w-what the..” While he started to back off and make his way out of the basement, he suddenly tripped over something and when he looked at it, Vincent screamed and slapped his mouth, leaning onto one of the shelves of the basement in horror as he watched a dead, rotting body. 

The body was completely ripped off, with the flies wandering over it with the odor being extremely foul. Its ribcage was exposed but broken, its insides empty, leaving it hollow. Vincent covered his nose, trying to block out the overwhelming stench as he panted in fear, his eyes widened. He felt like retching, as he couldn’t believe what he just witnessed through his own eyes.

Vincent's hands trembled as his mind raced. His eyes locked onto the horrific imagery he has just witnessed. It raised a question in him, was Adler been hiding something this gruesome like this this whole time? So, was the ghost in the basement all a hoax to—

A thick liquid dripped onto Vincent’s shoulder. He hesitated before touching it, rubbing the dark, sticky substance between his fingers. The color was deep black, its texture unsettling. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unsure of what it was, until the same liquid dripped onto his hair. At that moment, he heard a low, menacing snarl. His eyes widened as he scanned his surroundings, glancing left and right. Slowly, he lifted his head, pointing his flashlight upward to reveal the source above him, clinging to the ceiling.

It was a twisted, emaciated figure, its limbs unnaturally long and thin, stretched tight against its skeletal frame. Black, mottled skin clung to its body, and its face was hollow, with empty eyes with a dot-white pupil, and a jagged grin full of sharp, blood-tainted teeth. Its movements were jerky, as if its body wasn’t meant to bend that way. It screeched loudly at Vincent, as the light hit it, the creature recoiled, its body jerking violently.

Vincent stumbled back, falling to the floor in panic as he hyperventilated in shock. He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding, and bolted toward the exit, desperate to escape the nightmare lurking behind him.

Vincent ran through the path, passing through every single corner of the room while the beast followed him in a monstrous frenzy, snarling and screeching as it tried to catch onto the man. He ran as fast as he could, almost arriving at the exit but he accidentally tripped on an object which was lying on the floor, making him land on the hard, dusty surface on the ground. 

He struggled to get up, grunting and panting to move his legs but he felt the creature grab onto them as he loudly screamed. It started to pull his leg towards him, dragging him into the darkness that his pants started to rip off. His nails scraped against the floor, trying to make his escape.

But just as things turned dire, Timmy bolted into the basement, sinking his teeth into the creature’s arm. It let out a blood-curdling scream, jerking its limb away in pain. The brief struggle gave Vincent just enough time to escape.

With Timmy’s help, the creature was thrown off balance for a moment, giving Vincent the chance to sprint toward the exit. As he burst through the doorway, the monster lunged after him with a demonic scream, but he slammed the door shut just in time, trapping it inside.

Vincent struggled to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling fast with uneven gasps. The adrenaline still pulsed through his veins, his body trembling from the encounter. Slowly, he sank to the floor, his back pressing against the door as he tried to steady himself, his mind racing with what he had just seen.

Timmy sniffed at him, nudging his arm as if to check if he was okay. Vincent slowly opened his eyes, meeting the retriever’s concerned gaze, its tail wagged gently.

With a shaky breath, he reached into his pocket for the keys, only to find nothing. His stomach dropped. He patted his pocket again, digging deeper, but it was empty.

“W-what the hell? The.. the keys?” His voice wavered as panic settled in. He frantically checked his other pockets, his hands growing unsteady. But no matter how many times he searched, they were gone.

“S-shit! Where did they g—”

And then it hit him.

The memory flashed in his mind, the moment he had truly lost them.

It was replayed in his head. The creature lurking above, its twisted form clinging to the ceiling. The second he had stumbled back in terror, the keys had been slipped from his pocket. And he hadn’t even noticed because the fear clouded his eyes.

“.. n-no.. no no no no!” He clenched onto his head. “What have I done? What the hell have I done? Mila’s gonna be pissed.. but.. but not just her. Dad.. fuck, h-he’s gonna kill me.” His face expressed his distress and uncomfortability. “But whatever I saw.. it was.. no. This can’t be true. Hope this isn’t—”

RING RING!

The sharp chime of the telephone shattered the silence. Vincent flinched, his breath catching in his throat. His head snapped toward the sound, heart pounding. Timmy’s attention went towards the telephone, as he started to bark loudly again. “The telephone lines are back?”

Feeling relieved it was just the telephone call, hoping the one contacting him must be their father. He knew the communication signals were a bit disturbed here in the location they lived in, reaching for the phone, and pulls the receiver back to his ear.

There was a low, eerie hum. It was as if someone, or something was listening in, but not on the other end of the line. It was just static, yet it felt alive. Vincent's voice came out faint, laced with hesitant curiosity.

“H-hello?”

“You shouldn't have done that.” A groggy, hazy and whispery voice was heard through the communication static of the phone.

“W-what?” He stuttered. “W-who are you?”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“D-done what? Is this.. is this some sick joke?” Vincent was driving himself angry so he could face the one on the telephone. “W-what do you want?”

“Death is your only answer.”

His hands started to tremble while holding the phone in his hands, as the voice filled through his ear, and then into his head. "S-stop.."

“Die.”

"Please stop.. I'm-I'm begging you." Vincent's breath became shaky.

The voice kept growing louder and louder from the speaker.

“Die.”

“Die.”

“Die.”

“DIE.”

“DIE!”

“DIE!”

Vincent quickly slammed the phone back, ridden with fear, dread filled through his body. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his gaze snapped toward the staircase leading to Jodie’s room. A suffocating wave of anxiety gripped him, dread twisting deep in his gut. Without hesitation, he rushed upstairs, his footsteps heavy against the wooden floor.

He pushed open the door forcefully, his breath ragged, seeing Jodie undisturbed, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Peaceful and safe. Recovering as she rests.

He couldn’t seem to flush that memory away from him. It had completely traumatized him, and likely.. put him in constant doubt about Russell’s reason for keeping that “thing” in the basement.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. Maybe he was just imagining things. Maybe exhaustion was playing tricks on him. He tore his gaze away from Jodie’s sleeping form, running a hand down his face. “I hope Mila comes back quickly..”

Shutting the door, he sighs and walks away, going downstairs quickly to shut the basement door tightly, with anything to not make it look obvious, since Vincent had dropped the keys in there, by accident. After he was done, he turned around and pushed his back against the door, throwing his head back as he sighed, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Couple of hours later, Mila returned home with the groceries, the sound of the door clicking shut as Vincent, who fell asleep with the television still on, woke up abruptly and turned sharply, seeing her sister coming back, relief washing over him. At least now they had enough supplies to last a couple of weeks, one less thing to worry about. Timmy came and licked Mila’s face, happy to see her again.

“How’s Jodie holding up?” Mila asked as Timmy continued to lick her face.

“She’s.. she’s fine. She’s just resting. She took her medicine before going to sleep.” Vincent replied, rubbing his hair nervously, looking upstairs again. Mila makes her way to the kitchen, sets the bags down on the kitchen counter as she observes Vincent’s face. 

“You okay? You look a bit pale.”

He hesitated, glancing back at the telephone, and the basement. The memory of the voice still clung to him like a shadow, but he forced a nod, not wanting to reveal about the lost keys, or the monster in there. “Nothing.. j-just tired. But I’m fine!”

“Wait, and what’s with your leg?” Mila pointed out at the ripped pants, much to Vincent’s horror.

“U-uh, it was Timmy! He played with me too rough, t-that.. that made him rip off my pants. He’s really a menace huh?” He chuckled nervously, hoping Mila would believe him but she just sighed and rolled his eyes, walking away.

“Let’s just get the dinner sorted. You call Jay downstairs.” Vincent watched Mila leave, as he sighed and looked at Timmy, who held a disappointed look at him.

“Don’t look at me. I did what was necessary. But hey.. thanks for saving my life.” Vincent smiles, but then was left in a wonder about that monstrous entity in the basement, as he still stared at that door, closely.

The dinner went on as usual, the clinking of utensils filling the quiet room. Jodie sat with them at the table, her presence almost ghostly. She ate, but her movements were mechanical and utterly detached. She barely looked up, her eyes fixed on her plate, chewing without really tasting the food. Timmy also silently ate the food, like the rest but not with that usual enthusiasm he used to have with him before.

Vincent stole a glance at her, a flicker of concern crossing his face. Something was off. It wasn’t just tonight, Jodie had been like this for a while now. Distant. Unreachable. Like she was slipping away into a place none of them could follow.

Mila, too, noticed. She opened her mouth as if to say something but hesitated, instead quietly pushing the bowl of vegetables toward Jodie. A small gesture.

Jodie noticed Mila pushing the bowl next to her, to which she knew she had no strength but gently smiled at her sister and took some of the salad on her plate, much to their relief. Even Timmy was glad that Jodie was finally having the courage to eat.

Jodie finishes her food, and makes her way upstairs, without saying anything. Mila and Vincent grab the plates and utensils, taking care of the rest before they go to sleep as well. As they two were finished, Mila placed a comforting hand on Vincent’s shoulder, telling him to be strong. Mila puts Jodie to bed, cuddling her warm after giving her her medicine, turning off the light and closing the door, seeing Vincent out waiting for her.

“Even if she’s recovering, I think we should take her to a doctor tomorrow.” Vincent shook her head, absolutely worried about Jodie. “I don’t even feel like talking about this to Dad.”

“Don’t worry. She’s doing well. If it gets worse, we will take her to a doctor tomorrow.”

“I don’t know.. I’m just too worried for her at this moment. What if Dad found out? That’ll devastate him.” Vincent replied.

Mila sighed, her hand lingering on Vincent’s shoulder. “I know you’re worried, but I am too, Vince.” she admitted softly. “We have to do something. We can’t just sit and wait for things to get worse.”

Vincent ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “It’s not just worry, Mila. It’s..” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s like she’s not even here anymore. Like she’s just.. existing.” His voice lowered.

Mila squeezed his shoulder, comforting him. “You’re exhausted. It’s been a long day. Get some sleep, okay?”

He wanted to argue, to tell her that something about all of this was deeply wrong, but instead, he just nodded. Mila offered a small, tired smile before heading toward her room.

Vincent stood there for a moment, staring at the darkened hallway leading to Jodie’s room. He could still hear that whisper echoing in his mind.

Something wasn’t right.

The night was still, save for the distant chirping of crickets outside the window. The moon cast a pale glow over the house, its light creeping through the curtains. Everyone was fast asleep, her breathing was slow and steady, already looking as if maybe Jodie was finally recovering. Everything seemed peaceful until now, but the worst was about to begin, as if something had finally awakened.

The doorknob of the basement started to rattle, with the door also shaking, as if it was trying to open itself. The pin Vincent used to lock the door in its place, started to tremble.

She started to feel a little uneasy while being laid on her bed, as if something was churning inside her stomach, slightly growling and gurgling. Timmy suddenly opened his eyes, slowly as something made him have the urge to bark, facing the entrance of the door but he was leashed which made him unable to move.

It was hard to tell who, or what had emerged from the deadly basement, that Vincent barely escaped from. The figure crawled silently, as it made its way up the stairs, each step echoing quietly in the stillness of the house. Mila and Vincent were fast asleep oblivious to all. Checking their rooms first in the hallway, it drew its way through one specific room; Jodie’s.

The pin fell on the ground, with a clink, rolling away from the door, as the entrance creaked open.

Reaching her door, it carefully unlocked it, creaking it open, and sliding inside without a sound. The room was dark, only having the moonlight as the light source.

Jodie lay asleep, still unaware of the presence which had just entered her room. The figure crawled onto the bed, almost blending with the shadows. It stopped just above her, watching her steady breathing, as still as death itself.

It waited. And waited. Till it disappeared.

Her body began to involuntarily tremble, which weren’t even natural shivers, but something abnormal and inhuman. Visions of the basement door, multiplying cells, a heart pumping blood rapidly, the teeth of a carnivore, and a wolf devouring a deer, blood on its mouth as it stared at her.

“LET ME IN.”

She wakes up in pure shock, loudly gasping as she breathes for air, sweat covering her face. Her vision started to go blurry, and her ears began to ring. Her heartbeat thumped loudly, growing panicked. 

“N-no.. this can’t be happening..” Feeling dizzy, she wanted to get off the bed quickly to check what was going on, but as she did, she fell on her feet, landing on the ground and groaning in pain. She coughed again, but this time, it didn't feel dry. She abnormally coughed again, her chest heaving up and down. 

She felt like retching, for which she immediately got up on her feet and ran to the bathroom to excrete the matter that was currently disturbing her insides. Her eyes clenched with tears as she struggled to vomit, finding out that the vomit didn’t even taste like acid.

Her chest hurt, and her lungs felt collapsed. She opened her eyes, staring down horrifyingly at the sink to see that her body didn’t only vomit the juices of her own stomach.

But black acid.

Jodie’s breath ragged, the black blood dripping down her lips as she looked at herself deteriorating, with the vision in her eyes slowly blurring. Despite seeing the terrifying conclusion to her sickness, her mind felt like collapsing, with very little sanity left in her breaking apart as she saw her condition. 

Jodie couldn’t help but unexpectedly grin at the mirror, her teeth covered with the blood, and laughed as it dripped down her mouth. She giggled hysterically, feeling as if her body had started to reject the life inside her, before letting out a guttural groan and retching out more blood from her insides, as the scene went all black, unknown to what was coming.

END OF PART TWO.

Taglist (opt in/opt out): @ctxinari @liamthemailman @islandtarochips @imjustsocute @ladysouthpaw1213 @mutant-okuri-inu @burnatnight @fitzycoffee @iamcautiouslyoptimistic @aroserinosman @kingofowlsandcards @writercloves @alexa-mwll

[efingcod]

Good Heart and Desire to Please

OC x OC (Annabelle Pham x @alypinks Karlos Martinez)

tags: anna and graves get into a fight, INFIDELITY BEGINS, manipulation is afoot everywhere and anna is an idiot, mentions and implications of sex but nothing is ever explicit.

𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 ℑ'𝔪 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲...

ℑ 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲...

Phillip and Anna weren't in love in the traditional sense. Karlos knew that much.

Maybe she loved him before. But what they had now was akin to two people using eachother for their own desires. Wasn't that close enough?

He got a trophy and a tool. She got a trust fund for her son and a job with benefits she couldn't turn down. That was the American dream for you.

Graves took pride in bringing her down. Making her small. That fragile, easy to explode western masculinity swelled in his chest when she complied with his orders, fragile like a grenade.

He almost forgot bombs were her goddamn specialty.

He was so blind to the bomb swelling up in her chest as he shoved her son in the arms of a nanny and reminded her of their agreement. She worked for him, and Tommy would never have to grow up worrying about money like she did.

It was nearing Tommy's birthday the day the bomb blew up. She didn't wanna do another mission till her son was at least double digits.

Phillip promised this would be her last time. And the next. He was growing so fast and she was missing so much.

And she snapped and was so close to biting the hand that fed her. One more. He said.

No more she begged. And why oh why did Karlos Martinez have to get caught in the middle?

This was an argument not as Commanders or as coworkers or as people in the same unit. This was an argument between Phillip and Anna- who was his lover. And who else to bear witness to the drama than Phillip’s go to guy, his best friend and rebound once (when Anna thought he was dead.)

“Annie don't you dare walk away from me! You're actin’ like a goddamn child!” He walks after her storming out of his office, Karlos just about to head out to take his smoke break when he saw the two yelling at one another.

“Oh like that doesn't get you off!” She growls. Phillip's mouth is agape as Karlos tries not to burst into laughter. That was far, and he stops following her out of sheer surprise.

“Don't be fuckin’ ungrateful, Annabelle I made you!-”

The door slams and Phillip shares a look with Graves. Damn it Anna… The two men make eye contact, a nonverbal plea in Phillip’s gaze.

“...I’ll go get her.” Karlos murmurs.

“Appreciate it brother.” Graves says, watching his best friend run after his second in command. Karlos takes the stairs instead of the elevator, cutting off Anna succesfully when the doors open.

He forgets who she is for a moment and tries to placate her. “Hey, you know Phillip…he is- he's like this when he's stressed. He doesn't mean-”

“I don't care if he means it or not, we had an agreement and he didn't listen to me!”

He sighs and looks at her, hair pulled and eyes darting upwards like she's looking to God for the reason she agreed to be engaged with a man like Phillip Marshall Graves. Okay. No calming her down like this. Not when she's surrounded by work, work, and more work.

“...You want to get Denny's?” He asks tentatively. “It's open. And they let me smoke.”

“I'm not fucking hungry.”

“I don't care if you're hungry. You're cooped up in here, and you're going insane. If he's too caught up to realize that…At least get out of here. For me. C'mon. Vamos.” He nudges her arm, hears the ticking time bomb of her heart slow before she sighs and groans into her palms.

He chuckles as her anger stops for a moment. “I'm not the worst company, Annabelle Pham.” The tall man reminds her.

“Your sister would beg to differ.”

“My sister simply knows me well. And so could you.” His eyes darted to fidgeting hands. “I'm just as good at conversation as I am at one night stands.”

And maybe she's desperate or she believes him. But the drive to Denny's was short as it was quiet.

At this hour it's only one group of teenagers and two other people as customers. The waitress is a tired older woman who puts Karlos in a corner where he immediately takes to smoking.

“...So you come to Denny's just to smoke?”

“I come to Denny's for the cheap food and to smoke.”

They order their food. Coffee, black. And an All American Slam.

Anna gets the cheapest meal despite her salary.

He asks her why they fought this time. Her abrasiveness melts.

“I just want to go home. To Tommy.” Anna mutters.

“Your son?” He clarifies. She nods, looking at the lock screen of her phone, of a baby boy with big brown eyes that make his stomach churn. That boy looks like his father, with the same eyes as well. He tries not to remember the despair in Peter Choi's eyes when he told him to never contact Anna again.

“He's cute.” Karlos says plainly, handing her the phone back.

“...Phillip promised this would be my last gig. Tommy's turning two soon. I can't raise my kid on and off- I need to be there for him.” She looks so tired.

“Didn't peg you for someone who'd wanna be a….Give me a second.” He snaps his fingers, trying to remember the word. “A housewife.” He says, lighting his cigarette.

“I mean, I always wanted to settle and be a mom eventually. Just…Not like this.” She confesses. Not without the man she loved. Not so young. Not grieving and unmarried and cut off from her friends. “Not with it being held over my head like this.” Not with a man like Phillip Graves. The man she wanted to start a life with was all the way back in Busan, unreachable. That was her luck, she supposed.

Karlos has a look in his eyes that is barely sympathetic as his food comes in.

She's a pawn on the board, waiting to turn into a queen. And mierda santa she is tough and smart but so goddamn oblivious. There's a pattern she isn't seeing, and maybe it's the fact Alyssa told him to keep an eye on her or whatever, but he knows he needs her to see how much power she could really hold. If she just stopped having such a puppy dog mindset and see herself as more.

He looks up from his pancakes. “...What if I told you, you have the authority to change things?”

She scoffs. “I'd tell you I don't have any real power.”

“You're 2nd Commander now, Staff Sergeant Pham. You could drop that title if you wanted.” He points out.

“My job is to do his paperwork when he's out on the field and go out on the field when he's doing paperwork.” She says bluntly. “Commander my ass-”

“A commander nonetheless.” He points out. He can't convince her when her emotions are rock bottom. When her one track mind is thinking of her kid. “...Anna, I'll talk to him. Okay?” Her eyes focus on him and he knows he's saying the right thing. “I can't make any promises, but-”

She gets up and hugs him. Face buried into his shoulder as she sighs, her breathing shuddering. “...Thank you.”

He hadn't even done a thing yet. He thinks. But maybe this was what she needed- someone in her corner. An ally when she'd only recently woken up and realized what kind of monster she'd pledged her allegiance to.

“...No problem.” He says before she pulls away, wiping her tears. “Come on. The night is still young and you haven't finished your pancakes.” He points this out and she giggles through the tears. A warmth bubbles up in him that hadn't been sparked in ages. She sits back down and gently cuts her food as if she's going to share it with a toddler- a habit she couldn't undo.

“...Okay Karlos, maybe you don't completely suck ass.” She mutters.

“Maybe I’m on your way to be your favorite Martinez?”

“Don't push it.”

The morning comes and she realizes she didn't go back to the hotel with Phillip.

“Relax.” He says, voice soft as he sits up, the smell of cigarettes wafting inside as he gets off the balcony and steps back inside. “I told him you were staying somewhere else and needed to cool off.”

“...I don't know if I want to even look at him.” She mutters as Karlos pulls her into his embrace. She doesn't remember the last time someone has looked at her body like this. Not even Phillip. She reluctantly let him kiss her forehead, a small smile ghosting her lips.

“He's your key to stability. You don't have to love him.” He muses, a hand resting on her lower back as she refuses to close her eyes. “...You just have to give him reason to stay.”

“...Any ideas?” Anna glances up at him and he chuckles, pressing a hand to her cheek.

“...Baby steps. First we get you back home to your son. Convince him of those old fashioned family values he likes so much.”

She seems content with step one. He tells himself this is all a part of the plan. Phillip's his best friend, he is. But this private company was under the radar for the CIA for a long time. And what was their job, if not to incite coups?

-

A/N: hOOOoooO baby, this was my attempt to expand on a ship that was lowkey a lil bit of a joke, but now CANON and in the AU I'm writing. Is it love? is it job? Who knows! (Karlos does...)

[efingcod]

david mason and hammered shit🩷

[efingcod]

Just an idea for @writeforfandoms on her birthday. HBD Jen 💙 I can't give you Frank irl but I can write about it.

Frank Woods x Reader

Shit.

It was all wrong. You stared at the file in your hands in disbelief, turning over the pages almost hoping their contents would somehow change. Somehow the documents would magically right themselves. But of course, they didn’t. It was there in permanent black ink. Whoever was supposed to fill this out had done it all wrong. You flipped to the last page to inspect the signature. It was the end of the day but maybe you could catch whoever it was before this became your problem.

Martha. Of course.

Martha was on vacation for the next week. Frustrated you dropped the folder on your desk, then you rummaged through your desk drawer for a new blank form. You flipped through the file again. At least all the information you needed looked to be there. It would take some time to interpret Martha’s chicken scratches, but it’s not like you were doing anything that evening anyway.

Still, you felt yourself struggling to fight the aggravation rising in you and decided to take a walk to cool down before getting started untangling this mess. When you stepped outside you started to feel a little better. At the very least it was a sunny afternoon. And at the very least you could stop and get food from your favorite restaurant on the way home.  

As you rounded the corner and the building entrance came back into view you could feel the aggravation growing inside you once again. Instead of heading back in you took a moment to lean against the building and enjoy the sun as you were certain you’d be leaving work when it was already dark.

You closed your eyes and muttered, “Happy birthday to me.”

Then, resolving to head back to work, you pushed off the wall but the sound of a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey, Sunshine, you still here?”

The nickname and the gravelly voice could mean only one person. Woods- no you’re supposed to call him Frank now- Frank was leaning against the wall only a few feet away smoking a cigarette. You feel your irritation wash away, it was hard to be annoyed with Frank around. Unless your annoyance stemmed from him. Which it did on occasion. Most of the time he was fun to talk to. And it didn’t hurt that he was good-looking.  You gave him a soft smile. A fading bruise wrapped around his cheekbone which only seemed to enhance his looks.

“Yeah, got some work to finish up,” You said with a shrug.  

He nodded and took a drag from his cigarette. Apparently, he had nothing to say to that.

“I didn’t know you were back,” You said, suddenly you were in even less of a hurry to get to work.

“Just got in today,” He said. He placed his cigarette in his mouth letting it dangle on his lips. As he moved his hand back to his side you noted broken skin around his knuckles.

You didn’t know exactly what he did, but between the rumors and the injuries you could make an educated guess.

“Rough assignment?” You asked.

Frank turned over his hand to look at his knuckles.

“Not as bad as it looks,” He said. The cigarette bobbed up and down as he spoke. You weren’t sure if he was playing tough or if he meant it. “Anyway, it’s better than paperwork.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Do I need to talk to someone for you? Just point me in their direction,” He winked.

“I can handle myself thank you very much,” You said.

“Don’t I know it,” He says in response. You could hear the humor in his voice.

“Are you heading out?”

He tossed his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his boot. He stretched his arms out to the sides and pushed out his chest.

It’s not like you had forgotten how broad he was, but you couldn’t say you minded the visual reminder. Frank wasn’t a meathead, but even under all those layers he wore, you could tell he was strong. He had to be.

“Yeah, better get out of here before Hudson decides he needs to talk to me about something. That guy calls briefings for briefings.”

You let out a little laugh.

He grinned at you and then glanced over his shoulder, up at the building, his eyes seem to travel to the very top before they landed on you again. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. On the surface, it seemed like Frank was an open book, but the more you got to talk to him the more you realized he held back.

“Don’t let ‘em get you down,” He said finally, his tone distant.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, but he had already turned to walk towards his motorcycle. You’d have rather watched him than go back inside, but you knew if he caught you looking you knew you’d never hear the end of it.

——-

The good thing about working late was that the building never seemed to be empty. There were always people around burning the candle at both ends. So even after the sun went down and the world outside turned black you still heard the sounds of people working. The occasional cough, or click of shoes on tile as someone walked back and forth to the coffee maker. The tearing of packaged goods bought from the vending machine. Even outside you heard the sound of a motorcycle driving by.

You thought of Frank, of course.

Okay so maybe you had a little bit of a crush on him. What was so wrong with that?

You sighed and then checked your watch. It was later than you realized. And only half the report had been completed. You sighed again and stretched your arms over your head. Your back gave a satisfying crack.

Opening a desk drawer you dug around for some change as you resigned yourself to a vending machine birthday dinner.

At least the vending machine had your favorite treats in stock. And the machine even spat out an extra candy bar. Lucky. At least something had gone right with your day. You ate one of the candy bars as you slowly walked back to your office. Tossing the wrapper in a bin just outside the door you stopped in your tracks just at the threshold.

Frank was sitting on a chair next to your desk. He must have grabbed it from the neighboring workstation. He turned in his seat to look at the door.

“Hey Sunshine, almost thought you left,” He said. He gestured to a brown paper bag on your desk. “Brought you this. Think I got the order right.”

Then he stood up and opened the bag himself. He began removing small takeout containers and placing them along the side of your desk. The takeout containers seemed endless, way too much food for one person.

You stared at him from the doorway, stunned.

“And you know-” He held another container in a purple box. You recognized the label of a nearby bakery on it. “Can’t forget the cake,” Frank said. He glanced over his shoulder at you and his grin faltered.

He quickly looked away, his unfocused gaze settled around the desk.

Was his face turning red?

It was hard to tell with the bruise on his cheek.

“I uh- yeah it’s ok, I should have asked,” Frank said. He grabbed a few containers and placed them in the bag. It was then that you realized you should step forward. You touched the back of his hand to stop him.

“No, I-” You started to say as you looked at all the food he bought. “How did you know?”

“You were muttering something under your breath about it,” He said with an awkward chuckle. “When you said you were working late- I just thought- Didn’t mean to assume anything-”

“No, it’s nice!” You said recovering quickly. Then you laughed. “You think I can eat all this?”

He scratched the back of his head.

“Guess I, thought I’d join you.”

You smiled warmly at him. And after a moment he grinned back. You moved to help him with the containers but he waved you off gesturing for you to take a seat.

He pulled the purple box out again and opened it to reveal a large beautifully decorated slice of birthday cake.

“Hang on,” He said. He stuck a blue candle in the cake and lit it expertly with his lighter.

“Cake first?” You asked.

“Why not? It’s your birthday.”

[efingcod]

*censored for tumblr* but I said I had new art coming

[efingcod]

fun guy

[efingcod]

Silent Decay

Disclaimer: This fic contains content that may be unsuitable for readers uncomfortable with profanity, body horror or grotesque visuals. It is a psychological horror story featuring me and my friends' OCs! Story is all written by me!

The age description to read this fic is 16+ so if you're younger than that, please avoid reading this! Proceed with caution, and enjoy! (Don't worry! You may opt out of this fic if you like, self-care is absolute necessary <3)

Special thanks to @efingcod, @imagoddamnonionmason, and @alypink for allowing me to use their OCs for this collab fic! Park and Adler belong to Black Ops: Cold War, by Treyarch!

MASTERLIST.

PART TWO.

PART ONE

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the Adler House. A day had passed since their father’s departure, and the household slowly fell back into its regular routine. Mila was preparing breakfast, while Jodie was taking a nice warm shower, and lastly, Vincent was cleaning his room, arranging his books and making space for the new ones that would be coming soon once Adler was back home with the surprise.

Jay comes out of her bath, and looks at herself in the mirror to wipe off the water from her face, only to find out that her eyes had dark circles. Frowning, she reaches for a small jar of cream, taking some on her finger and spreading it carefully over the discoloration. Yet, no matter how much she applied, the exhaustion lingered.

Confused about this, she wondered when was the last time she slept? It wasn’t like her sleep schedule was messed up for some reason; she always slept on time.

Sighing as she ignores that subtle detail that made her face look different, quickly dresses herself up and goes downstairs. Mila walks out of the house to pour Timmy’s food into his bowl. He excitedly lifts himself up and wags his tail, eating it all eagerly as she pets his head. “Good boy. I want you to finish it, okay?”

Walking back into the house, she set up a warm breakfast ready on the dining table. She coughed lightly as she approached the table, grabbing the small ring bell next to her plate and shaking it. Jodie comes walking downstairs, joining her sister..

“Morning.” Mila smiled, as Jodie joined at the dining table, dragging the chair back so she could be seated. “Where’s Vince?”

“Ah, he’s coming. He’s been so excited for the new books that he’s already making space for them on his personal shelf.” Jodie chuckled, picking up the knife and spreading butter on the toast.

“Tell him he can arrange them a bit later, his breakfast is getting cold – Vincent!” Mila calls him again from upstairs.

“A few minutes!” Vincent groans, and opens the door to his room, shutting it quickly and making his way downstairs. His feet slumped through each staircase, as he made his way to the dining table with Mila and Jodie for breakfast. Pulling the chair opposite to them, he seats himself in front of the plate and the food, observing what was made today. “Toast and eggs, again? With vegetables?”

“Vegetables are healthy for you. In fact, everyone should eat vegetables for their well-being.” Mila replied as she ate her broccoli, and looked at Vincent.

“I was hoping you’d roast some bacon..”

“We ran out a few days ago, remember?” Mila reminded him as she settled in. “You don’t even check what’s left in the fridge. You just inhale everything like Kirby.”

Jodie nearly choked on her food, stifling a laugh. Vincent shoots Mila with an offended look, shoving food in his mouth mid-sentence. “Hey! It’s not my fault that I need something to munch on every time. It’s called a fast metabolism which you don’t." He justified his statement, his chewing being faster than usual.

“Come on, Vince. Give the fridge a break for god’s sake.” Jodie laughs and puts some of the egg on the toast and eats it. “I just don’t want Dad coming back to find the food supplies gone. He’ll say, oh who ate all the food! And we’ll not even try to defend you.”

Vincent waves her off dismissively but then squints at her. His chewing slows. “Wait a second. What’s up with your eyes?” He leaned in slightly. “You look exhausted. Did you not sleep well last night? Have you started studying that seriously?”

She gently caressed her eye circles. “No.. it’s not that I had no proper sleep, either.”

“Tch, you’re literally making this up. Just say you stay awake at night like an owl. Your face even looks like that.”

“Oh really? Should I tell Mila that you also stay awake late at night, as well? You think I wouldn’t notice?”

"Wait a minute, how do you know that I'm awake in the middle of the night?" Vincent raised an eyebrow towards Jodie.

Jodie shrugs, stabbing the eggs with the fork. "Whenever I go downstairs for a light snack or grab a bottle of water, I always notice you're sitting on that couch, looking stressed and weirdly staring at the basement or something."

When Jodie says that, Mila tilts her head in confusion and eyes at Vincent, hoping for an answer from him. Vincent really didn’t have the courage to face anybody on the table and patiently ate his breakfast. "That's not me.. I-I sleepwalk at times."

"Very smart of you! As if we both will never find out what you're going through, huh?"

There was a long pause in the middle, as Vincent sighs and finally breaks the silence. “Jay. The fact is, I’m trying.. it’s hard, and stressful because of the competition among many colleges. So to avoid myself from being lazy, staying awake at night from this guilt of not being able to do anything, and unconcerned about my future which.. looks kind of bleak—”

“You always self-degrade yourself, Vincent I’m tired of this!” Mila groaned.

“Alright, alright.. sigh, so in order to not have my efforts go to waste.. along with the psychology books I got from the store in town, I’ve been reading novels by Fyodor Dostoevsky too. He’s such an excellent writer who writes complex characters while studying the nature of humans with their psyche.” He continued. “Which is why, I was arranging my shelf up there once Dad gets back. He talks about guilt and suffering too.. something that I quite oddly resonate with.”

“I’d not let you waste all of Mila’s money over your tons of boring, sad and so-called suffering books, Vincent!” Jodie argued. “Why don’t you read something happy for once?

“They’re classical literature!” Vincent groaned. “They teach this in schools back in Russia, too! And it’s not boring when this is reality! The real world! Have you ever read one of his books that makes you judge my favorite author for no reason?”

While Jodie and Vincent argued in the background, Mila’s mind wandered elsewhere, towards something quieter, something just hers. Lately, she'd been thinking about saving up for a motorcycle. It was a silly dream to some, but not to her. Back in high school, she used to ride one. Her ex-boyfriend had taught her how. Those moments felt like freedom, like absolutely liberating with nothing to worry about.

But after their mother died, and with Russell barely around, Mila had to let go of that part of herself. Responsibilities came first. The dreams? They had to wait.

Due to the family pressure and her role as an elder sister, she made sure Jodie and Vincent create their best future before she makes her own, with nothing to worry about.

“Okay, hush!” Mila defuses the little argument the two siblings created with each. “God, don’t make a ruckus in between our peaceful breakfast at least!” Their voices silenced, as they proceeded to finish their food.

Vincent looks at Jodie with a concerned look. “You really need to rest more nowadays, Jay. I’m worried for you. I mean, we all are. You also haven't been doing your daily exercise these days."

Timmy in response wagged his tail, whimpering as he too agreed to what the two said.

Mila turned to Jodie, her brows knitting together as she took a closer look. “He’s right. Jodie, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine—” Jodie started, but mid-sentence, a cough escaped her. She quickly cleared her throat, rubbing a hand to her chest.

"No, you're not. I can tell something’s off." Mila rubbed her back, helping her relax so she could ease her breathing. Her hand then reached the jug full of water, pouring it in the transparent glass and handed it to her. "Here, drink this."

“Maybe the dust is making me sick.” She takes the glass from Mila’s hand, gently taking a sip of it. “My lungs feel full of it.”

"If it gets worse, we’ll call the doctor. Heck, Aunt Helen is not even far from here.” Vincent ate the rest of his toast, munching onto the last piece. 

“She lives an hour away. By walking it’ll feel like ages. Still far, though, but not much.” Jodie puts the glass of water aside, softly sighing in relief. “At least we have someone familiar in our contact.”

“Wait, did any of you get to know about Uncle Hudson?” Vincent remembered they had another relative, along with Aunt Helen.

“I don’t know. We never heard of him anymore.” Mila answers, laying her back on the chair as she explains. “It’s been like.. three years ago since we last saw him? All I remember is that Dad and him argued a lot and he abruptly left without saying anything.”

“He didn’t even say goodbye.” Jodie pouted a little, softly stabbing onto her food with the fork in her hand. “Did he even care about us?”

“Well, not all relations turn out to be healthy, Jay. There can be conflicts, misunderstandings, arguments. But it also depends on the kind of relationship you have with the other person.” Mila continues. “Some believe they don’t mean it. Some believe they may be lying about it. And some believe they must be hiding something. Those never ending questions are the reason how everything around you breaks.. once the truth comes out.”

Outside the house, the shadow of a woman’s legs showed walking into the entrance of the Adlers. Timmy, who was outside, saw the woman and barked. She tried feeding him biscuits, but he growled at her, angrily.

“Not hungry? It’s fine, darling. I’ll keep them here just in case you’re feeling starved.” She placed the biscuits in the bowl, and pet him, before reaching towards the door.

Timmy never appreciated Park’s presence, despite the closure the three siblings had with her, especially. Maybe because Timmy had never spent time with her much, or have a kind of deeper connection to the woman.

"Anyways, Dad said before leaving that she’d be checking in on us often. Which is why I need you two to behave well." Mila added, narrowing her eyes at them. “Because you know how nosy she can be.”

“Don’t look at me. Just look at Vince, he’s more of a troublemaker.” Jodie raised her hands in surrender, putting the blame on her brother instead.

"Hey! You little—" Vincent’s sentence was cut short by the sudden chime of the doorbell. The siblings froze, exchanging quick glances before hastily gathering their plates.

Mila was the first to move, making her way to the door. When she opened it, there stood Aunt Helen on their doorstep. A woman in her early thirties, being a frequent visitor, sometimes bringing fresh bread, sometimes just stopping by for a chat with their father. And now, as per Adler’s request, she had come by to check in on the siblings.

“H-hello, Auntie Helen!” Mila gave a welcoming smile, bowing herself a little in respect. Their aunt, Helen Park smiles back, hugging Mila in her arms.

“Oh, my precious, sweet Mila!” Aunt Helen chuckles, happy to see her again as she pulls back from her to walk inside the room. “Your dog still doesn't seem to want to be friends with me, what a shame.”

“It takes him a while to get used to somebody he doesn't know properly, Auntie.” Mila replied, shrugging as she couldn't seem to understand why Timmy never got along with the woman.

“Well, I can't blame dogs when they see what humans can't from within.” Helen added. “Where are the other two?”

“Aunt Helen!” Jodie and Vincent stepped out of the room to see their aunt, greeting her with a warm welcome as well.

Aunt Helen’s face lit up as she saw the siblings. "There they are!" She exclaimed, her voice full of warmth and playfulness. "The troublemakers themselves. I believe your father left yesterday?”

“Yeah, and we got the message you were coming.” Vincent replied, lifting his head up as he talked to their aunt.

“I did get your father’s message too. He left town again for a few days, right before poor Mila’s birthday too." Park caresses her face gently. “But I trust him, honey. Your father kept his promise, and he’ll be back.”

“But how long can we hold onto this hope, Auntie? We’ve seen it many times.” Mila’s voice tinged with pain. There was a moment of silence after that sentence. Jodie couldn’t really say anything, but Vincent was feeling very skeptical about it, as well, folding his arms and huffing in slight annoyance.

“I know him, sweetheart. He has often talked to me about you three. He’s been absolutely grateful to have you as his children. But unfortunately, he couldn’t see you all the time due to his business. Which is why your father trusts me. So don’t worry, if you ever need anything, I’m here. You know my house, right?” Helen grins.

“But what kind of business Dad does? Surely he must have told you about it.”

“Uhm, not exactly because.. I don’t even know what goes on in his head.” Helen laughs jokingly. “There are some things he never told me about, so I can’t say the same.”

“Good lord.” Jodie responds.

“Now anyways! If any of you munchkins can carry this bag for me. I have brought some yummy blueberry jam, made just for you!”

Jodie gasps at the mention of blueberries. “Blueberry jam! Oh my god, I’m going to have this right away.” She grabs the bag and takes it to the kitchen, as Helen chuckled, the day resumes as the three enjoy their time with Aunt Helen, before she takes her leave in the evening.

Hours later, she steps out of the house, casually wearing her basket hat, and wrapping the scarf on her neck, while the siblings talk about the things they discussed with their aunt, laughing and giggling along the way.

"Alright, little troublemakers, I should get going before it gets dark. But don’t you three get into too much mischief again, alright?" Helen teased, adjusting her scarf as she stepped onto the porch.

“Thanks for the day, auntie. The blueberry jam was delicious!” Vincent grinned. “But you got to bring some more because Jodie finished it all. Now I wonder who’s the real Kirby in the house.”

“Should I tell auntie that you almost emptied the fridge? At least it was just a jar of jam.” Jodie replied, folding her arm as she fires back at him sarcastically, as Vincent looks at her with his brows narrowed in disappointment, Helen laughs at their banter. She walks closer to Mila’s ear, whispering in it. “I secretly hid some more jam in the cabinet. Feel free to eat from it as you like.”

Mila passes down a smile with a nod. “Sure, Auntie.”

“And Jodie.. do take care of yourself. Your eyes don’t seem like you’re okay.” Park said with concern in her voice. “Did you have the right amount of sleep?”

Before Jodie could say something, she coughed once more, wheezing a bit louder as she huffed. “Ugh.”

“She doesn’t seem to be feeling well. Have you given her any medications?”

“We did give her some cough syrup and a warm cup of ginger tea.” Mila answered. “We’re keeping a check if anything goes worse, we’ll contact the doctor right away.”

“Good. You should always be prepared. You never know when a simple cough might turn into something much worse.”

Aunt Helen’s words raised something within the siblings that made Vincent and Mila exchange uneasy glances, while Vincent absentmindedly rubbed Jodie’s back, concern evident in his touch.

Helen cleared her throat, adjusting her scarf one last time before flinging her bag over her shoulder. “If you need any help, give me a call. Or reach my house this instant.”

“We’ll take care of this, Auntie, don’t worry.” He assures.

“Bye, lovelies. And bye Timmy.” She waved at him, as he gruffed and turned away. She opened the fence and stepped onto the path toward her house, walking away.

Mila saw Vincent staring at Aunt Helen leave, holding a small smirk on his face. She gently slaps his head, bringing him back to reality. “Hey, ow!”

“Just because you find our auntie pretty doesn’t make you want to stare at her like you’re in love with her or something.”

“But she’s pretty! Admit it, duh!” Vincent justified as he looked at Mila.

As things were going normal, Jodie coughed again, this time a bit harder as she walked in the house. Timmy saw Jodie in distress, and his ears flopped. Vincent and Mila exchanged another uncertain glance, their concern growing even worse for their own sister.

While Aunt Helen’s words still lingered in their heads.

END OF PART ONE.

Taglist (opt in/opt out): @ctxinari @liamthemailman @islandtarochips @imjustsocute @ladysouthpaw1213 @mutant-okuri-inu @burnatnight @fitzycoffee @iamcautiouslyoptimistic @aroserinosman @kingofowlsandcards @writercloves @alexa-mwll

[efingcod]

I don’t think you understand. I’m genuinely on the verge of tears. Why, why, why

[efingcod]

Bella ‘The Saint’

tag list — @cloudofbutterflies92 @florbelles @sweet-samnang @killerspinal @inafieldofdaisies @la-grosse-patate @justasmolbard @deeptrashwitch @socially-awkward-skeleton @alypink @lilywatt @imogenkol @strafethesesinners @mutant-okuri-inu @starcrossedspirit @josephseedismyfather @sirensmaw @thosewhowrite @adelaidedrubman @liberty-mutual-138 @carlosoliveiraa @shallow-gravy @jackiesarch @simplegenius042 @devil-kindred @nightwingshero @d-esmond @thedeadthree @cassietrn @voidika @auricfog @efingart @imagoddamnonionmason @g0dspeeed @katsigian @taciturntraveller

[efingcod]

craziest part about woods in bo6 is that he isn’t even balding, all the stress is just particularly targeting the pigment in that one area and making it blend in with his skintone like ?? 😭

[efingcod]

These are some fun headcanons for sure. I wonder if we'll ever get to know more about him, before the events of BOCW.

But if you're interested, the origin of the nickname is from the dev team that kind of took off in the fandom. (They misspell Murray Kraft's name here 😅)

More Adler thoughts.

Where did the nickname America's Monster come from?

I haven't seen it specified anywhere regarding how he got this nickname other then his peers giving him the name. Not to mention I don't think I've once ever actually seen any of the team explicitly call him America's Monster or mention it unless I missed that bit somewhere.

I think with his manipulation skills and his overall ruthlessness on the field it may warrant the nickname with his reputation but I wonder where it actually originated from. What was it explicitly that he did to earn the title?

I have a couple of theories on how he got the nickname

I think it could have from something to do with Perseus most likely back in the 1960s when he was in Vietnam hunting him down the first time. It's obvious Adler has a hatred for Perseus and most likely as he continued hunting him down in Vietnam I'd imagine he'd get more and more annoyed that Perseus kept evading him that he'd start to resort to more violent and extreme measures to get the information and intel he needed to stop him. But other people saw it and thought he was getting pretty gruesome just to find the guy and gave him the nickname perhaps?

Another theory is with his work on Separation in the 70s. The drug causes induced schizophrenia for any of the subjects and just like with Bell and MK-Ultra, Adler manipulated their memories to get what he wanted no matter how painful or traumatic the whole experience was for Bell or the other subject exposed to this. But for Adler he was doing a job, and he most likely didn't care enough about the suffering he was causing in the process causing others to label him as America's Monster.

Either way the title most likely came from something brutal he did, he didn't just earn the title for nothing. But I feel like either his work in Vietnam or Separation could have contributed or possibly earned him the nickname.

I did have another theory but I'm not sure on it tbh I thought maybe after he got his scar some people could look at him as though he looks like some kind of monster and give him the nickname but I'm not too sure about that one.

Even then, as I mentioned, I've never heard anyone explicitly call Adler by that title to his face or others. Maybe he dislikes the nickname because of whatever memory or thing he did its accociated with it. Although, at the same time, given his reputation that he doesn't seem to hide, I can't see him being opposed or guilty about whatever he did to earn that title. I could probably see some of the other guys at the CIA using it to scare the rookies, specifically Woods, maybe.

[efingcod]

"Does She Feel Safe?"

Cappie De La Costa x Nikto

The question floated in that churning sea of his thoughts, the answer as tangible as any and all of his existential wonderings.

Does she? Does she feel safe?

Shut it!

That's not real--

What is real?

We are--No, me. I am.

But is she safe?

"Yes."

The word grated in the back of his throat like gravel, his low voice gruff from lack of use and from that old, angry scar sliced across his Adam's Apple. He felt her stir against his chest, arching.

"What?" questioned Cappie. "You say something?"

Nikto made a noncommittal grunt, but did not answer with words. She scoffed, muttering something under her breath, he doesn't know what. Maybe about the mission, or him, or his weight pressed to her back, but Nikto wouldn't dare move, even if she asked.

A strange comfort. It's in her warmth, in the easing in and out of her breathing, of a gentle heartbeat pounding through him. And her smell. He breathed it in, a sensual perfume that haunted his clothes and his thoughts whenever she wasn't around, a welcome spectre nowadays.

Does she feel safe?

Nikto nuzzled her hair. His eyes closed.

"Yes."

Tagging @josephseedismyfather , @daggertongue , @scorpiosleeps , @raresvtm , @strangefable , @socially-awkward-skeleton , @simonxriley , @cloudofbutterflies92 , @theelderhazelnut , @cassietrn ,@inafieldofdaisies, @verbjectives , @statichvm , @noodlecupcakes , @la-grosse-patate , @voidika , @aceghosts, @3llisarts , @buggknife , @afarcry5fromstraight , @carlosoliveirra , @imogenkol

[efingcod]

Silent Decay

Disclaimer: This fic contains content that may be unsuitable for readers uncomfortable with profanity, body horror or grotesque visuals. It is a psychological horror story featuring me and my friends' OCs! Story is all written by me!

The age description to read this fic is 16+ so if you're younger than that, please avoid reading this for your own good. Proceed with caution, and enjoy! (Don't worry! You may opt out of this fic if you like, self-care is absolutely necessary <3)

Special thanks to @efingcod, @imagoddamnonionmason, and @alypink for allowing me to use their OCs for this collab fic! Park and Adler belong to Black Ops: Cold War, by Treyarch!

Note: This story would be divided into a prologue, with parts as the story begins to conclude! Currently, let's proceed with the prologue, the starting of it all.

MASTERLIST.

PART ONE.

PROLOGUE

"Me envenena, te envenena."

A lone cabin stood on the outskirts of town, nestled in the rolling hills of West Virginia. Around it, the dense forest loomed, stretching endlessly into the distance. A worn, asphalt road cut through the landscape, the only path leading back to town. 

The sky around was misty, but hauntingly pleasant. The brick house itself was small and unassuming, it weathered by time and the changing seasons. Faded white paint peeled along the eaves, and ivy crept stubbornly up one side, as if nature itself was reclaiming it. Yet, despite its worn exterior, the house breathed with quiet life.

The house of the Adlers from within, carried an air of quiet endurance. The wooden floor, though aged, remained clean and polished, its surface gleaming faintly under the dim lighting. Heavy curtains filtered the outside light, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls. The furniture, though decades old, was maintained impeccably, its polished wood and well-kept upholstery giving the illusion of freshness, as if time had been kind to it, even when it hadn’t been to those who once filled the space. 

Every detail, from the carefully arranged books to the faint scent of old paper and wood polish, hinted at an attempt to preserve something long past, a home kept pristine despite the weight of memories pressing in from every side.

The front porch groaned underfoot, its planks whispering their age with every careful step, with a beautifully arranged garden in it. To the three siblings who called this house their own, the sound was as familiar as their own voices. It was the sound of home. The sound of coming in from the cold, of summers spent watching fireflies dance in the dusk, of whispered midnight conversations just beyond their parents' ears. It was a place worn but not broken, standing firm at the edge of the world they knew.

Vincent, Jodie, and Mila, was bound not just by blood but something deeper and unshakable. They spent their entire lives within these familiar walls, growing up under the watchful care of their father, Russell Adler. 

He was a businessman, who often had to leave his home due to work reasons, worried about leaving his three children alone, because of his added responsibilities, but his love for them never died. Ever since the tragic incident that took away the life of his beloved wife, he was now a single father, taking care of the three since they were young, who were now grown up to be teenagers.

Evenings were the liveliest. The house had always echoed with laughter, the kind that could make walls feel less constricting and turn even the coldest nights warm. Dinner was always a noisy affair, with Mila teasing Vincent for his terrible table manners and Jodie rolling her eyes at both of them before their father’s deep chuckle settled their playful bickering. In moments like these, it was easy to forget how empty the world outside their little home seemed.

It was a normal day at the house of the Adler's. Vincent was snoring on the couch; with his face covered by a book he was reading previously. 

Vincent was the sibling who had just finished high school and he was looking for a college that he can pursue his field in. He was drawn to psychology, to understanding the depths of the human mind, how experiences shape a person, and how past traumas can alter one's perception of reality. But reality weighed heavy on his aspirations. His academic scores weren’t enough to secure a spot in the programs he truly wanted, leaving him caught between ambition and limitation, uncertain of what path lay ahead.

Meanwhile, Mila was busy preparing her favourite recipe, trying to bake some cupcakes using a recipe book she bought from a local shop while travelling to town. Being the eldest, she had already completed her education, and wanted to open a bakery sooner and establish a business. But for that, she had to collect enough funds.

Lastly, Jodie was exercising in her room, moving and stretching her body as the music went on with the beat. Headphones on her ears, vibing as she joyfully danced. Jodie’s dream was to become an athlete, for which she had always been exercising and training for. She even did win a couple of medals and trophies from her school’s sport competitions, for which she even declared of joining the Olympics one day. As amazing as it sounds, the only thing was that she likely avoided studying, thinking it to be a distraction from achieving her dreams, though Mila persuaded her to complete her education, since it comes first than anything else.

Outside, their golden retriever, Timmy, slept soundly, keeping watch over the house as he always did. More than just a guard dog, he was their loyal companion, practically a family. A little child raised by siblings, as they liked to say.

Mila was downstairs, mixing the batter for the cupcakes, and was getting distracted by Jodie's constant footsteps thudding above like a one-person stampede. She called out for her to be less noisy, but Jodie, too possessed by the rhythm of her song, was busy vibing like she was at her own personal concert. "Jay! Keep it down, I'm trying to bake a cake!"

As the noise persisted, Mila groaned, rolling her eyes so hard they almost got stuck. She dragged a hand down her face, questioning all of her life choices. Then, glancing over, she spotted Vincent, who was still dead asleep, blissfully unaware of the chaotic disaster unfolding around him.

"These two will never learn." Mila sighs in annoyance, until she sees Adler coming out of the basement, quickly pulling out his keys and locking the door. He takes a deep sigh of relief, as the lock secured whatever was inside that room, tucking the keys back into his pocket.

"Ghost hunting down there, dad?" Mila chuckled. She remembered her father telling stories to the siblings of a “ghost” being down there, which they carried the old tale for years. The truth was, they were likely not allowed to enter the basement for a myriad of reasons. Reasons they never got to know about as well. 

No matter how many times the siblings ask Adler about the basement, he was always able to make up an excuse to brush them off, saying that the one who touches the door.. gives them a curse? As stupid as it sounds, Adler was sure trying his best to have his kids stay away from the door as possible.

On the other hand, if anyone tried to know what was truly in the basement, it was none other than Vincent himself. Ever since he was a kid, he even tried to sneak his way to open the basement but always got caught by Adler. He was very stubborn to know what was inside. He himself never understood why Vincent was so keen to know what was in it.

Sooner or later, that became less of a bother for the siblings, as they never talked or wanted to know about the basement anymore. But, you’d never know when that thought would revoke within you, again. They say, curiosity kills the cat.

"Anything special, Em?" Adler asked as he made his way to the kitchen, spotting Mila busy with her baking. “Did you feed Timmy?”

“Yeah, Dad. Now he’s sulking like he just had the best meal in his whole life.”

“What is so special in there that makes you go there all the time, Dad?” Vincent mumbled through the book, as he groaned.

Adler shook his head, chuckling, ignoring the question Vincent had asked him many times, his attention now going to Mila. "Trying out that recipe again? You know what happened when you tried it the first time?"

"Yeah, Dad. I almost burned the kitchen down because we forgot to take the cupcakes out of the oven. I will be careful this time." Mila replied, chuckling as she continued mixing the batter.

"As long as we don't call the fire department again, we all are good." He leaned around the counter, while talking to his daughter.

"I’m careful with these things, unlike Jay or Vince. That’s my thing, not theirs." Mila sighed, and gently poured the batter into the tray moulds.

"Oh, really? And what makes you special?" Adler folds his arms, who was likely interested to know about Mila's reason, engaged into the conversation this instant.

"While you were gone, Jodie nearly set the microwave on fire while she tried heating up a bowl of stew, and Vince thinks stirring occasionally means staring at the food until it cooks itself. This is why I think twice before letting them in." Mila then places the cupcakes in the oven while recalling the past, setting the timer and letting them bake, sighing as she finishes with her work. 

"It’s hard keeping everything in order, you know? Being the older sister isn't easy. Especially after Mom.."

"I know, Mila. You do a lot, more than you need to. And for this.. whatever you do, whatever happens, I’ll always be proud of you, it's a shame that I often have to go out of town to attend to my businesses, but there has never been a day that I have not missed you three." Adler paused a little, his voice slightly down with a tone of grief, looking at the ceiling as he wondered. 

"After your mother, Aleks passed away.. it feels so different.” Adler shook his head, his eyebrows knitting at the thought of his wife, who had passed away years ago, after giving birth to the siblings. “You all have your dreams, and I am definitely entitled to help you fulfill them. Though some days, it feels like a battle I can’t win.”

Mila listened quietly as Adler spoke about Mom. A lump formed in her throat, realizing that neither she, nor Jodie or Vince had gotten the chance to meet her.

"I sometimes doubted if I could ever be a good dad for you, after all of this. But I don't want it to seem that I call you all kids a curse to my family." Adler looks at Mila, with concern. "You’re all I have. If I ever lost you.. I don’t know what I'd do. I think I'd go insane."

"No, Dad.." Mila looks at Adler gently, with hurt but compassion. "You’re all we have. After mom, you're the only one who can shelter us from this horrible destiny we’re going through. You’ve given us everything, and we’ll always be grateful. We’re doing this together, just like how Mom wanted." Mila then hugs Russell, in which he hugs her back, sharing a heartfelt moment with each other.

For a couple of moments, there was a slight pause. To which Adler broke the silence. "I might have to go again, Mila."

Mila pulls back from the hug, looking up at her dad. "Again?"

"Yeah.. they said they wanted me to be present in a meeting with some other company. Though I even tried persuading them not to take me there, but these guys.. ugh, they won't let me breathe." Adler groans, rubbing his face in frustration. "But don't worry, I-I've asked Aunt Park to take care of you three, like the last time. She'll be there for you while I'm gone."

At the news of finding out that she and the rest would be left alone at home, she barely reacted. She was used to it by now, watching him pack his stuff, say his goodbyes, and disappear for weeks at a time. A part of her wondered if he was growing distant, but she quickly shoved the thought aside, understanding that their father has a lot of responsibilities to handle. Ever since their mother’s passing, everything had been in shambles. Someone had to keep things together, and if that meant taking on more responsibility, Mila was willing to do it.

"But how am I supposed to celebrate my birthday without you?" Mila's voice wavered as she shook her head, trying to hold back tears. Adler's chest tightened. He hadn't even realized how close the date was and he was now going to leave this early.

"I know your birthday is super close, Mila. But I'll try all my best.. to come back to you all, and celebrate with you." Adler pressed his hand against Mila's shoulder.

"These next few weeks are going to be hell for me." She murmured, barely above a whisper. She lowered her gaze and leaned on the counter, trying to control her emotions.

"Mila, I—" Before Adler could continue his sentence, he was cut off by another familiar presence. "Are you leaving again?"

Suddenly, the two turned to face Jodie, who had overheard their conversation.

"Dad, you promised you’d stay with us for a couple of months." Jodie walked towards him; her voice laced with concern.

"Jay, I understand, but—"

"No, Dad. You can't do this." Jodie’s voice wavered; her brows furrowed in frustration. "Can't you cancel the trip? Mila's birthday is coming up, and we can't do everything without you!"

"I understand your worry, Jodie. But, my—"

"You always care about nothing but this business of yours, dad!" Jodie snapped, her voice breaking.

"Jodie, go upstairs." Mila interjected gently, trying to diffuse the tension. "I'm handling this, not you."

"No, Em!" Jodie’s voice cracked; her fists clenched. "You always have been the one taking a stand for us, why do you have to carry everything alone? If he did care for you, he would stay here, not wanting you to bear the burden. I don't understand what kind of business Dad has that makes him ever so invested in there instead of us."

"Jodie, please!" Mila protested, trying to hold her younger sister back, as Adler watched her daughter take out all the frustration she had held within herself. She walks towards Jodie and holds her shoulders. "Please, listen to me. It's okay. He promised that he'll come back to us, he'll try his best. I know him, he would never miss the date."

"You're just making yourself feel better, Em. It's just Dad who is not able to understand." Jodie glared at Adler, clearly disappointed how their dad was now leaving at the time of her elder sister's upcoming birthday. Vincent, who thought to be asleep, was overhearing the conversation in the kitchen as well, but kept himself in secret, not wanting to face his father as well after knowing he was going to leave for town again.

Adler sighed deeply, shaking his head slowly, as if the words were too much to bear. "I didn’t want this." He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "I never wanted to fall apart from you. But after losing Aleks, it.. it shattered me. And now.." He swallowed hard, his voice thick with regret. “I can’t even have the courage to face you all three, because I’m myself ashamed that I couldn’t be a good father for you."

"But we said we'll do this together, Dad. You don't always have to leave thinking we can handle everything.” Jodie groaned, trying to ignore everything for what’s happening, as her eyes started to brim with tears. “You’re not bringing this up ever again. “It’s.. it’s that I don’t know if you really love us or not.”

Adler sighed as he caressed her face. “I love you, Jodie. I love all of you. I’m so blessed to have you as my children. You’re the reason why I’m still alive, or my life would have ended the day your mother died. But, I promise. One day, this will all end, and I'll be back with you all, forever."

"You're just making this up again, are you?" Jodie said with pain and disbelief in her voice. Mila shook her head, holding onto her tears.

"I'm not." Adler gives a nod, his voice in assurance. "I promise. This will end, and we'll be together. Again."

A faint creak echoed through the room as the wind rattled the window. The warmth from the oven felt distant now, drowned out by the chill settling over them. Jodie and Mila share glances at each other, their eyes conveying the message. Mila furrows her eyebrows, persuading Jodie to let Adler go. Vincent could only spectate the chaos unfolding. Jodie stares at her dad, deeply exhaling as she casts her head down. "Fine, Dad. This is the last chance. After this, we'll not give you any."

Adler sighed in relief, with a smile. "Thank you, sweetie. Come, give Papa a hug." He opens his arms for Jodie to join him for a warm embrace, as she hugs him back tightly. Mila also joins them, wrapping her arms around him.

"We'll miss you again, Dad." Mila said softly, rubbing her face against her father's shoulder, sniffing to hold her tears. Jodie couldn't seem to hold onto them any longer, letting the tears out. Just then, Vincent comes out from his hiding, who had been overhearing the whole conversation, standing there watching the three. His eyes were filled with tears too, as Adler watched him in pain along with the others. Vince, who had no choice, came running to him and hugged him as well, sobbing uncontrollably.

After a moment of venting out their pain of seeing their father go apart from them once more, Adler breaks the silence, still holding onto the three. “I'll be leaving tomorrow. I'll just get my things ready, because I'd have to leave early in the morning.” He said softly, though his voice lacked the strength it usually carried knowing he was going to be separated from his children again.

"It's fine, Dad. We understand.." Vincent sighed, wiping his tears off. "While you're gone, we'll have the preparations ready."

"Don't forget to bring me gifts."

"My chocolate." Jodie adds with Mila's request.

"And my Dostoevsky books." Vincent too adds up in the list with the things they want Adler to come back with.

"The best ones I can find. You'll love them for sure." Adler chuckles as he keeps hugging the three, as the scene fades.

The next morning, Adler gets prepared for town, as Mila helps him in wearing his coat and Jodie gives him his glasses, as the father smiles at his two daughters. Vincent was waiting for Adler and the rest to come downstairs, walking back and forth as he wasn't ready to see his father leave. 

But, all of a sudden, his attention went towards the basement, as he stared at it for a good while, which made him wonder what even was in that basement that Dad didn't want to talk about. The curiosity was growing deep inside of the young’s mind. Checking to see if anybody was not watching, he walked towards it, and grabbed the handle, checking to see if it was locked or opened. Turns out, it was sealed shut, much to his disappointment.

“He must have kept the keys somewhere..” Vincent thought to himself. “What are you hiding, Dad?”

Quickly, Vincent regains his composure as he hears the footsteps. Adler walks down the stairs, seeing Vincent who was waiting for him. “Oh, Vincent. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No, Dad.. it’s alright, let’s just go.” Vincent shakes his head, stepping out of the house.

Cabs rarely passed through the road that led them to the city, since the area they lived was not a busy road, barely any soul dare to come there. But it seemed more like a peaceful place to live in, with no worry of noises or traffic, living and connecting with nature. 

The street was pretty silent, but they waited patiently as the wind gently blew on their faces. A part of them did recall not letting Adler go, but they didn't want their Dad to also let go of his responsibilities that do still keep them intact. Finally, a cab was coming its way towards them, Vincent waved at the coming vehicle, as it slowed down next to them, whereas Adler faced the three siblings for the last time.

Timmy, their dog whined sadly, watching Adler go for town again. For the fact, Timmy dearly loved Adler too, like the siblings. The way he’d wag his tail when he’d see the man, and would jump on him excitedly, happy to see him back. But, seeing him leave again, broke his heart as he slightly bowed down, Jodie comforting him as she petted his head.

"Take care of yourselves."

"We're not children, Dad. We've been through this before." Jodie rolled her eyes, hearing Adler chuckles at his daughter's sarcastic remark.

“But you’re still a child, Jay.” Adler pointed.

"No one holds this family together the way Mila does. Not after what Mom left behind. She keeps everything going, even when she's sick, even when she’s exhausted. You don’t see it, but I do." Jodie continues.

"I too want to be equally responsible for what I do, Dad. I want to be just as responsible as her. Maybe you never really wondered what your eldest daughter is going through, and what it costs her to stay strong. But I see it. And maybe one day.." She paused, her voice quieter now. "I'll take it all on myself. Just so she doesn’t have to."

Adler was pretty silent on Jodie's response, but tried to brush his concerns away because there was no time for a bitter farewell. "Anyways, second, I don't want any of you to try to open or step inside that basement. Because there's?"

"A curse." Vincent rolled his eyes. "Kind of stupid but fine."

"And lastly, don’t forget to feed Timmy at times."

"Got it." Vincent gave a small nod, but his curiosity piqued him constantly, the urge in him to investigate the basement was slowly growing stronger. Timmy suddenly woofed.

“And as I always say, don't—"

"Burn the house down." The three said in unison, promising not to cause any more chaos in his absence. Adler gives a warm smile, nodding in acceptance.

"That's more like it." Adler opens the door of the cab, stepping inside the vehicle with his suitcase, shutting the door and opening the window pane, offering a one last message before he leaves. "See you in a few days."

“Oh, and one more thing.” Suddenly, Adler thought of something as he looked at his children again. “I heard there's been some issues with the signal and telephone lines recently and the hills don't help. Don't be surprised if it doesn't work at any point or the signal gets lost, it should be resolved in a day or two."

Mila gives a nod with a sly smile, holding onto the hope that her dad would come back soon. She has always been the person to hold onto some kind of optimism that even in her Dad's absence, she understands how hard it must have been for him to go through all the stress after their mother's death, something which does give her the reason to sympathize with her father.

He may not be perfect. But he was their Dad, and always will.

“And lastly, do keep the candles burning for me.” Adler smiles before he shuts the window close, preparing to leave.

The cab then accelerates, taking him away as the three wave him goodbye. The cab was long gone, slowly disappearing from their sights as they still stared at the running vehicle. They turned away, making their way back home until Jodie coughed, slightly wheezing as if she lost some air. Timmy looked up at her, his tail wagging as he was curious to know what happened to her.

"Woah, Jay you're good?" Vincent asked, with concern when Jodie held her chest.

"I'm fine, it’s just a cough." Jodie cleared her throat, coughing a little more again.

"Maybe the smoke of the vehicle might have irritated her lungs for a bit. She'll be good anyway.” Mila adds as they walk their way back, her gaze briefly shifting to the street ahead, before turning back.

But this was just the beginning of it all.

END OF PROLOGUE

Taglist (opt in/opt out): @ctxinari @liamthemailman @islandtarochips @imjustsocute @ladysouthpaw1213 @mutant-okuri-inu @burnatnight @fitzycoffee @iamcautiouslyoptimistic @aroserinosman @kingofowlsandcards @writercloves

[efingcod]

I'm efingart everywhere, but if you want the links

Patreon (there's a free tier, it's not everything but it's something)

BSKY

Newgrounds

Ao3

here even have the Youtube I've been thinking about posting some stuff there idk!

[efingcod]

Faun!Price x Dryad!Rory *Complete*

ignore my poor attempt at backgrounds, this is usually why my art is on a blank one lmao

pose ref @/reds-references

[efingcod]

Price at the boxing gym sketches

I reblogged this art the other day and folks really seemed into it and then the brainrot happened (as always). I do have an OC that I ship with him (but it's in the past). I was thinking about making a comic 😏 about them, so I wanted to do an interest check.

It would be within the canon universe, just before the events of the reboot. Price x Oc would be exes. I don't see why John doesn't occasionally blow off steam boxing. But what happens if he runs into his ex at the gym? 😏

[efingcod]

Callsign: “Frost”

A friend (Pix) gave me the idea that Archie got the callsign “Frost” because he rocked up to his first day of ADFA with frosted tips, completely forgetting he wasn’t allowed to have them 😂😂 some guy snapped a pic before he got his hair buzzed that was later in the future shared around his current squadron~

…but he’s not actually gonna tell you that LOL and now Damien’s found out about it? He’s never gonna hear the end of it 😂

He was probably heavily inspired by 2000s numetal bands honestly 😭 free will