#awful bad terrible posts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carnivalcarriondiscarded · 11 months

Text

hold on ok i belted out a brief laughingstock Scene for possible future use that i Had to write down bc if i didn't, i'd never remember it. and why not share?

“Barnaby? Barnaby, old chap, are you with me?”

Barnaby blinks, registering the green fingers snapping in front of his nose. He huffs a laugh and pushes Howdy’s hand away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. You were saying?”

Howdy gives him an exasperated look, a fond look. “Thinking about running off to a farm again, were you?”

“Nah, just the clouds. They’re a lot less work.”

“Well I’d rather you didn’t. Who would I talk to during the long hours if you went and floated off?” Howdy winks before turning to his shelves, already yammering away about something or other.

Something or other that Barnaby is once again not listening to, because what was that? Barnaby quickly presses his cool paw-pads to his burning cheeks, feeling the bristling fur there.

Has Howdy ever winked at him? Now that he’s noticed it, Barnaby can’t recall. If it’s new, then why? Why a wink of all things? What did that mean? And that look Howdy gave him…

Barnaby adjusts his abruptly too-tight tie. It’s unusually warm in the store, isn’t it? Howdy must have forgotten to turn on the AC.

Gosh, what is Howdy even saying? He’s still talking, but Barnaby hasn’t absorbed a word. He can’t even tell if Howdy is still speaking english. It’s all garbled.

There’s something wrong with Barnaby. He must be coming down with something… or he’s just overthinking it. Overworking the ol’ noggin. A good long nap should set him right.

“Listen,” Barnaby interrupts, patting the counter, “I uh, I don’t know where my head’s at. I better go find it - I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Oh… alright, then,” Howdy says, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Barnaby slaps that thought out of the park. He doesn’t want Howdy to be disappointed, that’s absurd. That’s something a bad friend would think. Barnaby may be many things, but a bad friend isn’t one of them.

“I’ll whip up a joke that’ll knock your socks off next time I see ya,” Barnaby promises. He smiles around the discomfort and the entirely new feeling squirming around each other in his chest.

“Now you’ve gone and brought up my expectations,” Howdy says. He leans on the counter and grins. “Are you sure you can back up such a claim, Mr. Beagle?”

Another hot flush races under Barnaby’s fur, and to his growing mortification, his tail starts wagging at breakneck speed. He lets out an uncharacteristically nervous laugh and backs away from the counter. To both of their horror, his back hits a shelf, making it rattle and tip.

“Oh, sh-” Barnaby lunges to right it before it can topple. He whips around and laughs again. Howdy’s wide-eyed stare burns. “Sorry ‘bout that! Talk about a bulldog in a bugshop, geez.”

“When you find your head, make sure to screw it on nice and tight,” Howdy says, a strange look on his face to match his tone. “And check your temperature while you’re at it - it’s not like you to be off-balance.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m off-balance,” Barnaby says. He inches towards the door, willing his stupid tail to calm down. “I just have ears instead of rearview mirrors.”

“Uh-huh…” Howdy slides to the side, trying to peer around him.

Barnaby fumbles for the door. The scrape and bang of his search for the handle echoes in the quiet store. One of Howdy’s eyebrows creeps higher the longer Barnaby stands there, making a complete fool of himself.

Finally, the door clicks, and Barnaby nearly tumbles over backwards in his haste to get out. He stumbles down the steps and briskly walks away, adjusting his hat and tie. As soon as he’s out of sight, he slaps his paws to his face and sags against the bodega.

“Idiot,” he hisses to himself. He presses his back flat against the wall and slams the side of his fist against it. Normally, Barnaby would use a situation like this to his advantage. But Howdy wasn’t laughing, and Barnaby wasn’t being funny. “Bulldog in a - gah, idiot!”

Great. Now Howdy thinks he’s not only a clumsy oaf, but that he’s losing his touch too.

Barnaby growls in frustration, pushing off the wall and stomping away from the plaza on all fours. What does he care what Howdy thinks of him? Others’ opinions of Barnaby have never been anywhere near his list of top priorities - barring Wally’s, of course. If they were, he'd never tell another joke again.

Yes, Howdy is a good friend of Barnaby’s. A close friend, even. But since when has he had such a - such an effect? Barnaby shakes his head, growling again.

There was no effect. Barnaby is just going insane. Or he’s getting sick, like Howdy implied. That would explain the sudden hot flash, the loss of typically impeccable coordination, and, oh yeah! Barnaby’s brain leaking out of his ears.

#context from My Brain:#barnaby's chatting with howdy as usual and howdy does Something endearing #or was it like... idk one of his personality quirks pops up #& barnabys like 'aw hes doing The Thing. its one of the things i love about him'#and obviously has a moment of 'whoah wait Love?? haha where the fuck did that come from. whatever *proceeds to panic*'#essentially: the first domino falls #laughingstock #aaaaand not tagging as anything else #if people see it they see it #i havent posted Any of my recent (and rare) writings so this is slightly mortifying!#its been too long since ive posted fic i need to buckle down on my wips #not this one obvs since its not even really a wip #just a tidbit for future me to edit and implement #my dc wips... who i still want to continue & finish so so badly...#the mermay timber one... the timkon cannibalism... cowboy hat rule... and many more...#anyhow i can feel my writing confidence atrophying #i glance at one of my wips and my entire brain recoils like its the worst thing since (insert bad thing here)#shaking myself by the shoulders 'Its Not That Bad You Are A Decent Writer Whose Fics Are More Often Than Not Well Received'#my brain is trying to convince me everything is terrible i need to forcibly shut it the hell up

111 notes · View notes

shmorp-mcdurgen · 2 years

Text

Alternate AU: Winter Break 1998

Adam and Jonah take a job in Mandela County, one taking place in the abandoned Heathcliff residence.

TW: character death, blood, gore, body horror

Notes: Hey. Second fic. Pretty neat. Really appreciate the response to the last one by the way (even if it was a while ago.) this is a bit over 5000 words, so a little shorter than the last one, but still a little long. Hope you like it :)

February 14th, 1998.

Snow cloaked the ground on the sides of the road, burying the grass and dead leaves as snowflakes fell to the ground slowly from the cloudy sky. Standing alone next to a forest was one simple sign, reading “WELCOME TO MANDELA COUNTY” in bold, green letters. Snow stuck to the metal, making its message hard to read, though it didn’t go unnoticed. The sound of tires rolling on the pavement grew louder as a grey car sped past it, heading into Mandela County while also disobeying the speed limit.

“Ugh…finally.” A man groaned when he saw the sign before taking another drink from the can in his hand. His silver hair was swept to the left side, with its black roots being visible. A white sweatshirt cloaked his torso, itself being partially covered by a black leather jacket. He was leaned back in his seat, staring forward at the road before him. “Why don’t we get the easy jobs? I mean, we have to drive all the way to fuckin’ Mandela County, and for what?”

“Dude, it’s just an hour and a half drive bro.” The driver spoke up. He was dressed in a raven black hoodie, which had yellow lettering on his chest that read “BPS”. His curly, caramel colored hair was messy, poking out from underneath his hood. His hands gripped the steering wheel, being covered by black fingerless gloves. He glanced over at his friend with a slight sneer. “Don’t tell me you’re scared already, Jonah.”

“What? Bro, no.” Jonah claimed, scoffing slightly. “I’m just saying that the others always get the in-town jobs, and we have to bust our asses just to get some money.”

“Yeah, because they’re the ‘leaders’ and get to choose what jobs they do.” The driver stated.

“Yeah, and it’s just kinda dumb.” Jonah said. “I mean, Adam, how much to you want to bet that Seth would’ve flipped on us taking a job without him knowing?”

“Oh, I don’t have to bet anything,” Adam replied. “I know he would’ve just been like, ‘why didn’t you tell me this’ or ‘why are you doing that’; I mean, it’s fucking ridiculous. He’s a total nutcase, dude.”

“Though…do you think we should’ve at least told Sarah where we were going?” Jonah asked.

“And have her snitch on us?” Adam chuckled slightly. “Hell no.”

“Alright.” Jonah said, taking another sip from his energy drink. “…Hey…what even was the job again?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Like, I know it’s about some like…ghostly apparition at some abandoned house, but what did the person want?” Jonah asked.

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that we’re getting 15 hundred bucks just to housesit for a night.” Adam said with a smile. “I mean…we’re fucking set for a while, dude.”

“But don’t you think it’s kinda weird that they…didn’t tell us what they wanted us to do about this…ghost?” Jonah questioned.

“Does it matter?”

“…Kind of, yeah, considering we’re driving all the way out there.” Jonah said. “I mean, what if it’s…like…an alternate or something?”

“Yeah! What if it is?” Adam echoed, excitement bubbling up inside him. “Seth would flip his fucking shit if he thought we were on an alternate hunt, but come on dude, this is our chance!”

“Did…you take this job just to get back at him?” Jonah asked.

“Do you really think I’m that petty?”

“I’m not saying that—”

“Kind of, yeah. The guy needs a fucking wake up call, to know that he can’t keep bossing us around.” Adam stated. “But just…the chance to see an alternate do its thing…almost no one has been able to do that.”

“Yeah, because they all die, Adam.” Jonah said, leaning forward slightly as he stared at Adam, his eyes showing more uncertainty than before. “If this is some alternate shit, I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“Come on, we’re not even there yet.” Adam said. “Besides, it’ll only be for one night. You can survive one night, can you?”

“I fucking hope so.”

When they finally made it into town, the noticed the lack of activity. Streets were oddly empty, though the two chalked it up to it being a cold winter evening. Christmas decorations were already up in the windows of the locals, along with the occasional lawn ornament. The festive décor and feel didn’t stop the strange feeling of dread from swelling in Jonah’s chest. Adam appeared unaffected by the eerie mood that Mandela gave, so Jonah decided to try and be unaffected by it too, despite it just getting worse the closer they got to their destination.

They drove down a street, passing by increasingly empty looking houses, with the Christmas lights becoming sparse. Soon they passed by a small line of leafless trees, finally being face to face with the house they heard about over the phone. It was a dull grey color, with most of the paint peeling away underneath the blanket of snow concealing it. Its windows were blackened, and its driveway barren. It was only two stories tall, but the feeling it gave Jonah made it almost feel like a skyscraper. Adam pulled the car into the driveway, leaving fresh tracks in the nearly foot deep snow.

“Alright...we’re here.” Adam said, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Wait,” Jonah lightly grabbed onto Adam’s arm before he opened his car door. “I…I don’t know about this place, man.”

“What are you talking about, it’s fine—”

“It just…feels off.” Jonah stated. “Don’t you feel it?”

“…No.” Adam said, almost sounding like it was a dumb question. “It’s literally just an empty house, bro.”

“Yeah, but a freaky empty house.” Jonah said, making Adam shake his head with a scoff.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go in.” Adam said. “You can stay out here and twiddle your thumbs while I actually do the important shit.”

Adam opened his door before stepping it out, slamming it shut behind him as he walked in front of the car and towards the front door of the house.

“…You don’t have to be shitty about it.” Jonah muttered as he leaned back in his seat.

Adam stared at the door, his hands in his hoodie pockets before he grabbed onto the door handle. To his surprise, the door was unlocked, as if the owner didn’t even care about home intruders. Either way, Adam was just happy that he didn’t have to bother with lock picking. Jonah watched as Adam glanced back towards him, a wide smirk on his face before he closed the door and disappeared into the house. Jonah slid further down his seat, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t sure why, but he was feeling dread creeping into his mind. Adam better not drag his feet; Jonah was starting to have the inkling that the one and a half thousand dollars wasn’t worth it.

Adam’s flashlight shone across the dark living room, hitting the dusty furniture and the walls, which had cracked picture frames hanging on them. A couple of them depicted two teenagers hanging out, and in one they were wearing Halloween costumes. “Hmm. Hey, Jonah?” Adam spoke into his radio.

“Yeah?”

“There are these photos, of like...two boys.” Adam said, sliding his bag off his shoulder before taking a camera out of it. “They look like they were friends or something.”

“…Okay…?” Jonah responded. “Anything else?”

“I dunno…though they’re all…cracked.” Adam pointed his camera towards the pictures on the wall, snapping a photo with a bright flash. “Wonder what that’s all about…and who these people are.”

“I think you’re looking too far into things.” Jonah said. “I mean, who doesn’t have family photos in their house? Aside from us, of course...”

Adam wandered around the house, seeing the state of disarray it was in after nearly a decade of stasis. He walked past the couch and the small table beside it, which had a rotary phone resting on top, covered in cobwebs. Adam stared at the phone for a little while before his hand grabbed onto the phone, pulling it off of its hook as the webs came apart from the table. Adam shook his head slightly before putting the phone back down, wiping the grime on his hand off onto his jeans.

He turned around, seeing a stairway in the dark corner of the room, leading to the second story. The closer he got to it, the colder it seemed, even colder than the frigid living room. “Going upstairs.” Adam spoke into the radio.

“Oh…alright, just…be careful.” Jonah warned.

“Yeah yeah…” Adam muttered to himself as soon as he put his radio back onto his belt. He walked up the steps, finding himself in a small hallway, devoid of light until his flashlight hit the door at the end of it. He stopped and looked around at the walls, noticing that they were completely barren. The light bulb on the roof was shattered, as if it just exploded at some point. Adam stepped over the creaking floorboards before reaching for the door knob. As soon as he grabbed it, he pulled it back in shock; it was as cold as ice, as if he just put his fingers in the snow. He then breathed in deeply before gripping it again and turning it, though the door appeared to be locked shut.

“Hey Jonah, there’s a locked door here.” Adam said.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“It’s the only one in here.” Adam stated. “You brought the lock picks, right?”

“Uh…I think so, yeah.” Jonah recalled.

“Alright. I’ll be out in a sec.” Adam put his radio away, turning before walking down the dark hall. As he approached the stairway, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, as if someone was standing right behind him. He swung around, shining his flashlight into the darkness, seeing nothing but the dust particles floating in the stagnant air. He stared down the hallway for a few moments before leaving down the stairs, a bit quicker than he did before.

“So uh…what was it exactly?” Jonah asked, back pressed against the side of the car as Adam rummaged through the cluttered trunk.

“I don’t know…it was like…” Adam paused. “You ever shut the lights off in the basement and run up the stairs because you have this…feeling that something is chasing you? It was like that.”

“…Huh…” Jonah scratched the back of his neck. “And the door?”

“I don’t know, but I need to get through.” Adam said. “Something’s gotta be behind it, you know?”

“Adam, I really don’t think we should—”

“You said you brought the lock picks.” Adam interrupted, standing up straight as he stared into the trunk.

“I did.”

“Well, look.” Adam gestured towards the many boxes in the car. “You see them?”

Jonah took one brief glance into the junk. “…uh…no?”

“Fuck, Jonah…” Adam groaned. “God damn it…”

“I’m sorry; I thought they were already in there!” Jonah claimed.

“Did you even look before we left?”

“Look, they’re not there, okay?” Jonah said as Adam sighed deeply. “Does that mean we can leave now? The suns almost set, it’s getting really fucking cold; we should head back before the others start getting suspicious.”

“Jonah, I know you’re scared, but I really feel like something deeper is going on around here.” Adam said. “I mean…this house; some shit is going on here, I can feel it.”

“I know, that’s the problem—”

Jonah and Adam’s attention were drug to the house when the sound of screams erupted from inside. Jonah jumped back slightly, hearing the sound of what sounded like an entire choir of horrid screeches, though Adam seemed to be unfazed. If anything, a smile was forming on his face.

“Oh, fuck this.” Jonah rushed to the passenger side door, reaching for the handle before Adam grabbed his arm.

“Wha—Jonah, come on, we can’t leave now!” Adam said.

“Dude, we need to get out of here,” Jonah responded. “I mean, did you hear that shit?!”

“Yeah!” Adam said with a half chuckle. “Things are starting to get interesting; I’m not leaving until I see what’s going on.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Jonah questioned. “You’re not fucking invincible, dude—”

“Who knows, maybe I am crazy,” Adam responded. “But at least I’m doing the job we’re being paid to do.”

“Adam, please—”

“I’ve already made up my mind.” Adam stated. “You can be a pussy all you want, but I’m going back in.”

Jonah felt the air get colder as he stared at the house, waiting for Adam to talk to him on the radio. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, making the sky appear to be a dark void above his head. His face stung from the cold as he pressed his crossed arms into his chest. It was oddly quiet, as if the town was completely dead. When Adam eventually did call through the radio, it nearly startled him.

“Jonah, you there?”

Jonah fumbled with his radio as he brought it up to his mouth. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, I’m here, what’s up?”

“I’m in the kitchen right now…and the fridge is still…stocked.” Adam glanced at the closed fridge from afar. “Everything’s rotten…but no one even bothered to throw everything away, like this place was abandoned in a hurry.”

“Adam, I really don’t like this.” Jonah said.

“Can you stop complaining for more than five seconds?” Adam said. “I finally get the chance to go on a job alone, and you’re barking at me the entire time.”

“You get a chance to—Adam, we’re supposed to be working together!” Jonah said.

“Yeah, and you’re doing a piss-poor job of holding your end of it.”

“Look, can we…please just leave?” Jonah begged. “Like…let’s get a fucking pizza and go home, I’m getting hungry and cold out here.”

“Ugh…you know what? Fine.” Adam said. Before Jonah could feel the overwhelming relief from hearing that sentence, Adam continued. “But I need to get into the room upstairs. Something about it…it feels like it’s calling me.”

“Calling you?! And you don’t see anything weird about that?” Jonah nearly shouted.

“Jonah, I’m trying to compromise; I’m going to try and unlock the door, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll leave, and if I can get in, we’ll get out of here the second I’m out.” Adam sighed. “…You happy with that?”

“…Fine.”

“Good.” Adam put his radio away, rolling his eyes as he approached the stairway once again. He slowly crept up the steps, the chilly air hitting his face as he found himself in the upstairs hallway. He stared at the bedroom door, his light hitting the chipped paint and strange dark-colored splotches that stained the wood. He took in a deep breath before grabbing onto the frigid handle. To his surprise, it turned, and the door creaked open ever so slightly.

“Huh…what do you know…?” Adam muttered as he pushed the door open further. He saw the window adjacent to the door first, and the faint light bleeding into the room from it. He walked inside, seeing the nightstand resting next to the wall to his left. A shattered television was resting on it, and pieces of garbage and old, mildew-ridden clothes surrounded the base of the wooden drawers. Just by looking at it, it was clear that whoever lived in there didn’t care about cleaning much. However, after Adam got used to the smell of mold and mildew, something else stung his nose. He turned towards the rest of the room behind him, and his excited smile was ripped away from his face.

The white sheets on the bed was stained with dark crimson, dried and coagulated from years of festering. “What the f…” Adam shone his light towards the closet door in front of the foot of the bed, seeing a large splatter of the same red substance, along with a small hole in the wood. Bullet casings littered the floor next to the bed, and only one rested in the large splotch of blood that stained the bed.

“W-What…w…what the fuck, what the fuck.” Adam hurriedly pulled his radio up. “Jonah, are you there?”

“Yeah, is something wrong?” Jonah questioned, noticing how shaky Adam’s voice was.

“I-I…I think…this is a crime scene, dude.” Adam stated, his eyes fixed on the blood stains. “There’s…there’s blood…everywhere.”

Jonah shook his head, muttering something to himself before yelling into the radio. “Adam, that’s fucking it; get the fuck out of there!” Jonah pleaded.

“No, I…I can’t…” Adam muttered, “Not yet.”

“What the hell do you mean?!” Jonah yelled.

“I’ve finally found something, I just need to—”

“Listen, if you don’t get out of there now, I’m leaving without you.” Jonah stated. “And I…I don’t want to do that, but please, just think about it for a second!”

Adam barely heard the message, as the signal abruptly became very weak. He wasn’t paying attention anyway, as he saw a glimpse of something under the bed. He crouched down slowly, his hand reaching for the object before he drug it out from under the bed. He stared at it for a moment, feeling for the first time in a while a sense of overwhelming dread. It was a pistol; its barrel stained with blood along with the rest of everything in the room.

Adam dropped the gun before turning to leave, only to freeze in place when he saw a figure in the doorway. Adam’s wide eyes stared at the figure as his flashlight flickered, making it hard to see whoever, or whatever, was there. Adam could barely make out that the figure was wearing a blood-stained pale grey sweatshirt, along with pink sweatpants. His face was nearly completely enveloped in darkness; a void behind a cracked face like porcelain. A gold cross hung from his necklace, hovering in front of his chest weightlessly. He seemed to be slightly shorter than Adam, though the fact that he was hovering above the ground made it appear otherwise.

Adam was silent, pondering whether he wanted to ask it a question or run away. There was nowhere to go, and nowhere to hide, and as the flashlight shut off, Adam realized that his decision wouldn’t have mattered. The figure in front of him already made the decision for him.

“Adam, can you hear me?!” Jonah yelled into his radio. When static was the only response, he groaned before pacing back in forth next to the car. “Adam, I swear to God, please—”

The sound of shattering glass nearly startled the skin off of Jonah’s bones, coming from directly behind him. He swung around just in time to see Adam falling from the second story window, as if he was thrown out. His screams were haunting, and Jonah swore that time slowed down as he careened towards the frosty ground. Jonah knew that with practice and skill, one could live a drop from the second story without injury, though he knew it wouldn’t be the case with Adam. Adam was falling head first.

The screams were cut off by a loud snap, echoing throughout the night as Adam slammed against the ground. Jonah instinctually looked away, hearing the sound of faint gurgling and cracking before slowly turning back to see what had happened. “Adam…?” Jonah whimpered, seeing Adam’s body on the ground, twitching. His neck was bent completely to the side, and one of the arms he used to try and protect his head was snapped in twain. Blood spat out of his mouth, and his wide, terror-filled eyes stared straight ahead, almost looking directly at Jonah.

“…A…ADAM!” Jonah cried out in horror, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the side of the vehicle. “Adam…oh god, what the FUCK!” Jonah scrambled towards the driver’s side door, swinging it open before jumping inside. He whimpered to himself as he started the car, backing out of the driveway before speeding down the road.

As Jonah fled, the broken figure floated in front of the window, which was shattered from Adam careening through it. He watched as the cars taillights disappeared down the street, his one eye fixed on it as it drove away. His hands curled up into fists, shaking as he felt his own rage build up inside of his hollow body. “…You…COWARD!” He shouted, his voice accompanied by a city’s worth of screams, echoing throughout the night.

Jonah whimpered to himself, hyperventilating as he sped down the dark road, with what little visibility he had being dampened by the falling snow. He couldn’t stop crying as much as he tried, sobbing as he frantically tried to figure out what he should, or even could do. He was barely processing all that had happened; it all went wrong at once, giving Jonah no time to react. As he drove out of town and down the empty highway, he shook his head, slowing the car down before pulling over to the side of the road.

He glanced up at the sign on the side of the road, which rested near a small forest on the right. “Thank you for visiting Mandela Cty, WI. Come again!” was written in faded text, as if it had been there for a while. Jonah shakily grabbed the door handle, stumbling out onto the slick street as he stared at the relatively small, snow cloaked wheat field on the other side. He crouched down, staring at the ground with his hands gripping his head as the cold air stung his nose.

He had no idea what to fucking do. He had no clue what he could do. The BPS HQ was still miles away, and with no reception, he couldn’t contact the others. What would he say when he got there? Oh God, what could he even say to them? Would he tell them that they went on an investigation by themselves, not even bothering to tell anyone? Would he tell them that Adam was dead because of their own negligence? How would they react? Jonah’s mind was swimming in circles, unable to think of a single coherent thought. He didn’t know what to do. Adam was dead, and Jonah felt deep in his bones that it was partially his fault. He left him there, not even bothering to help him.

He sighed shakily and deeply before he stood up, running his fingers through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. He glanced behind him at the car he was leaning against before reaching for the handle. He pulled on it, but it didn’t open the door; it didn’t even move an inch. He pulled against it with all his might, but it remained still. “What…what the hell—” He was interrupted when he saw something in the corner of his eye. He turned from the car back onto the road, freezing in place when he saw a figure around twenty feet away. He was glaring back at Jonah, his gaze feeling as though it could puncture Jonah’s soul.

“…Shit…shit, SHIT—” Jonah ran towards the wheat field, the figure simply gliding over the ground after him. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” Jonah pleaded, glancing back as tears streamed down his face. To his surprise, the alternate was no longer there, as if he had disappeared. Jonah slowed down for a moment in the middle of the field, his feet buried in the deep snow. He frantically looked around, wondering if his prayer had actually been answered. However, when he felt a presence directly behind him, he figured out that his pleading fell upon deaf ears.

“You…coward.” The alternate growled as Jonah hesitantly turned to face him.

“P-Please…I didn’t do anything…” Jonah cried, wondering when the figure was going to kill him.

“You left him behind…” The alternate droned. “He’s DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!” Jonah covered his ears as a cacophony of voices screamed at him.

“Let me go…please…” Jonah begged.

The figure leaned away for a moment, raising his cold, blackened hand towards Jonah. Jonah was sobbing, staring up at the weightless man in front of him, expecting him to end his life right then and there. Instead of that however, the figure remained completely still. Jonah realized he was scratching his own neck as he prepared for death, and soon he felt his skin become increasingly itchy, like he was covered in bug bites. He scratched harder at one place near the front of his neck, with it becoming increasingly red and irritated. His chest and forearms began to follow suit, as they started to feel inflamed and uncomfortable.

“Wh…what…?” Jonah muttered to himself, pulling his hand away just long enough to notice his fingernails were beginning to be stained red. His neck and arms were scratched raw, bleeding down the thin claw marks left from Jonah’s feeble attempt to relieve the discomfort. It didn’t seem like the scratching was helping at all, as parts of his skin were only becoming increasingly dry and irritated. “What the fuck—?”

A sharp pain suddenly hit his face, causing him to stumble back and groan slightly. He lightly touched his cheeks, with them stinging at the slightest touch. It felt as though his skin was being sliced open with a newly sharpened scalpel, and as Jonah looked at the blood slowly running down his arms and collar bones, he realized that it wasn’t just his face that was being cut. “What the fuck, what the FUCK!” Jonah rolled up his sleeves, staring at the two thin, parallel lines cut deep right next to his elbow, wrapping around his arm and up his bicep. He touched his neck, feeling two similar lines running up both sides of his face, all the way up to his eyelids. Blood was beginning to stain his white sweatshirt and drip onto the snow below as Jonah stumbled backwards, unable to understand what was happening to him all while the figure in front of him gave him a cold, unfeeling glare.

As if it was pure impulse, Jonah couldn’t stop scraping himself with his nails, despite the increasing stinging pain he felt rushing all over his body. His mind was racing, his memories becoming increasingly foggy as he began to yell and cry out from the pain. As he scratched at one of his arms, he suddenly felt a strong searing pain, feeling his finger drag something away from his arm. He looked down at what he was doing before he felt his heart sink to his feet. His fingers had stripped away the skin all together, revealing the muscles underneath.

Jonah had run out of words, and all he could do was scream as loud as his vocal cords would allow into the night air, ripping his hand away from the rapidly bleeding wound. However, the flesh just simply tore off by itself, and soon he could see the bones in his arm. He stared at it in pure horror before feeling a similar searing pain in his other arm. The muscle and skin was falling off of him, and soon the searing pain spread across his body as strips of skin peeled off like bandages. His cheeks were stripped away, revealing his jaw and teeth along with the underside of his eyes. He didn’t see what else was being torn off of him, as he felt his eyes roll up into his head and his face slam against the cold snow below him as he lost consciousness.

Jonah figured that was it. He accepted that he was a dead man; killed in a horrifying way that would make medieval torturers shed a tear. However, when he felt the cold snow pressing against his body as he regained consciousness, he realized that he wasn’t as lucky as he thought.

His eyes flipped open, taking a little while to adjust to the darkness around him, only broken by his car’s headlights next to the road. His entire body was in unbearable agony, and blood was seeping into his clothes and into the ground below him. He stared at his arm, which was resting right beside his head, seeing that it was nothing but bone, held together by thin strips of flesh. The bone however appeared to be a pure black color, like a silhouette. Jonah’s face felt like it was burning, and his body felt as though he was barely put together. The figure appeared to be gone, so despite the sheer agony he was in, Jonah had to make it to the car before it came back.

He shakily pushed himself up with his arms, but couldn’t rise to his feet. He tried to get up, but his legs didn’t budge. He slowly turned himself around to lie on his back, feeling his exposed spine come in contact with the cold. He sat up slightly, trying to move his legs, but not even a twitch came from them. He couldn’t feel them anymore, as if they didn’t even exist. He was paralyzed from the waist down, no longer able to walk. He fought the urge to scream in both pain and mental anguish, not wanting to let the alternate know he was still alive.

He cried, feeling his tears hit the exposed muscles underneath his eyes, but he no longer cared. He laid on his stomach, beginning to drag himself towards the road with his skeletal arms, every single movement making his body cry out more. As he slowly drug himself to safety, he noticed something hanging off of his wrist. A few thin strings were tied around his wrists, running slack on the ground before going straight up. No matter how high he looked, they only seemed to go forever, disappearing into the darkness above. Jonah nevertheless pressed on, crawling closer and closer towards the light.

He continued to move the best he could before he felt a small tug on his left wrist. He glanced towards it, noticing that the string was slowly becoming taut, raising up into the air. The same was happening with the right arm as well, with Jonah slowly feeling panic bubble up inside of him. When he felt a small tug on his neck, he realized that not only were his wrists tied, but his neck also had strings around it. He saw as the strings began to pull at his arms, raising them into the air.

“No…no…no no NO NO!” Jonah resisted against the force trying to pull him up, but whatever was on the other side of the strings was stronger than he could ever be. He felt the strings around his neck tighten, and soon, he felt himself be taken off of the ground, his paralyzed legs dangling below him. He felt as though he had a noose around his neck, and the strings around his wrists dug into them like barbed wire. He could no longer move, as his arms were forced to be stretched out to the side, like a living marionette. He kept rising into the sky before stopping, and when he looked back up, he saw the figure, his cold stare still fixed on Jonah’s feeble form.

“W-Why…? Why won’t you just…just fucking kill me…?” Jonah croaked, unable to raise his voice.

The figure stared at him silently for a moment, before his inhuman voice began to speak once again. “I can’t kill you yet.” He stated. “I have a job for you.”

#shmorp writes sometimes #mandela catalogue #tmc #tmc alternate au #jonah marshall #Adam Murray #alt Jonah #alt mark #tw character death #tw gore #blood #blood tw #body horror #face horror #all written but still tagging because it can make people uncomfortable #but yeah. Jonah’s terrible awful no good very bad day #I’m not as proud of this as I am about the last fic I posted but I still think this is pretty decent. good even #i don’t know. hope you guys like it.

87 notes · View notes