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chaotic-orphan · 7 months

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Could you write a story where a king who outlawed magical beings (like fae, elves, sorcerers, etc Bc they’ve tried to kill him multiple times ) has a trial for a young magical creature found in his lands, but the creature isn’t evil, didn’t even KNOW they were trespassing, and is terrified they’re gonna be executed or tortured or something. But the king doesn’t hurt it, since the magical being didn’t mean any harm? Could turn into found family or he just lets it go or something

Love ur writing!!

A Benignant Mischief

@annablogsposts THIS ASK HAS CONSUMED MY EVERY WAKING THOUGHT SINCE I GOT IT! IN THE MIDST OF FEBUWHUMP NO DOUBT! THE GALL, THE NERVE!!!! I must say, this idea has taken hold of a good chunk of my brain and I have just been obsessed with Cosimo and Henrik (who will be introduced in part two), I hope you love them as much as I do. There is far more than this part written, but I had to divide it up to get some of it published so you didn't think it was just collecting dust in my inbox.

Thank you so much for this ask, it has rekindled an obsession with writing plot that isn't exclusively whump?! If that makes sense. I hope you enjoy it!

*~*~*~*~*

Cosimo ran through the forest with a sharp urgency, an unconscious boy cradled close to his chest as he went. The rain pattered down on his head as he ran, bare feet clawing at the ground to keep his grip. To an onlooker he could have been running on plain terrain instead over the wiry and rough forest, leaves slick with water; as if he were one with the Earth; knew every root, every nettle and broken tree bows that he hopped over with graceful ease.

His sharp eyes searched the forest frantically, pleading for a shelter to open up to them. Ahead was a wooden fence, tree branches crisscrossing before him like a blockade. Cosimo bowed his head and turned to the side, curling his upper body around the smaller one in his arms. Branches snapped and scratched at him as he pushed his way through with a determined resolve.

When he finally emerged from the branches, he found what he knew would be waiting for him. A small burrow made in a circle of trees, an opening in the trunk of a thick elfbow tree, the size of three fully grown oaks. A shelter mercifully presenting itself. Cosimo let out a soft sigh and whispered a soft thank you to the forest for providing.

His limbs grew heavier and heavier the closer he got to rest, but he walked on, slower now but just as strong as he was when he set out from court. He lay the boy in his arms down on a bed of leaves for the moment under the shelter of the elfbow. Cosimo touched the trunk as he entered, his heart feeling full as he did.

“Thank you protecting us,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to the entrance. Then he pressed his knuckles against the unconscious boy’s forehead, letting out a soft sigh. He was okay. Not as hot as he was before. Cosimo would gather food and herbs tomorrow to help the fever, but at least he was stable for now.

Cosimo took off his pack that he had hastily gathered from home. Two blankets, two pillows, a canteen of water, a hunting knife — just the essentials.

“The very bare necessities, Cosimo,” Cosimo chastised himself with a sigh, running a hand through his soaked hair flicking the rain from it. Cosimo put a pillow under the boy’s head and wrapped him in a blanket to keep him warm. Cosimo sat with back against the trunk of the tree, arms wrapped around his knees that he hugged to his chest and just watched the rain patted down on leaves outside the elfbow. The gloomy grey of the evening bled into a darker, broodier grey but the rain let up before night fell with its coat of deep purples and midnight blues.

Cosimo didn’t know at what point he fell asleep, but he woke to footsteps cracking the leaves beneath its feet and he was immediately alert. His hand shot and grabbed the hunting knife, unsheathing it and lunging forward teeth bared.

He came face to snout with a fox that was frozen in place, brown eyes meeting Cosimo’s with a slightly dazed and stunned glimmer to them. Cosimo let out a breath that reflected on the air with a rolling wave of smoke, before settling back into the nook-like shelter of the elfbow. The fox didn’t retreat, instead he sniffed the air and timidly took a step towards Cosimo and the unconscious boy beside him.

Cosimo inclined his head slightly and the fox entered the elfbow with all the inquisitiveness of a cat trying to sniff out the source of fish. The fox turned his head to the boy, and glancing back at Cosimo quickly for permission he curled up on the unconscious boy’s chest. Curling into a little ball on top of him, deep brown eyes meeting Cosimo’s again before closing half-lidded.

Emotion clogged Cosimo’s throat as he reached out to pet the fox, allowing the animal to sniff his hand before allowing the affection.

“See?” Cosimo whispered to the air. “You’re not nobody. You’re like me.”

Cosimo didn’t sleep exactly, but he at least got some semblance of rest before Dawn broke and he woke with it. He looked down at the sleeping boy, who was still asleep, the fox now curled up to the boy’s side. Cosimo reached his hand out and brushed the boy’s hair back from his forehead to feel it.

He was warm, not too hot. Maybe the fever had passed with the rain? Cosimo didn’t know enough about it, but he knew the rejuvenation powers of rain that came with him so he suspected maybe it could be the saviour of the boy too.

Cosimo drank some water from the canteen before grabbing the empty rucksack he took with him and slinging it over his shoulder across his body. He took the water and the hunting knife and set off about the day. When he exited the elfbow the sun was only starting to rise, birds heralding the morning.

Cosimo looked back to the sleeping boy and the fox. He pressed his hand to the tree and leaned his forehead into the back of his palm.

Protect them, please. I’ll return with food.

Cosimo felt the rush of feeling that flooded him when he felt around nature. Then he turned and walked out of the small clearing and into the embrace of the forest again. He remembered hearing running water when he was running with the boy, the sound distinct from the patter of the rain.

The dense woods were not nearly as imposing as they were the night before, when Cosimo’s thoughts were on finding shelter and nothing else. There should be some mushrooms nearby he could roast, maybe some berry bushes if he was lucky and water. Not enough to feed them properly, but to sustain them? It would be enough.

Cosimo found the stream under a thicket of leaves. It was slightly lower than the ground that Cosimo was on, so he simply extended a leg and slid down the bank to the stream, opening his canteen as he went. His feet settled into the damp earth, and he crouched down to refill the canteen. Not before drinking the last of the remaining water.

He heard a huff from his left so Cosimo glanced towards the sound and saw a horse lapping up water from the stream. Cosimo froze like the fox had the night before, before kicking himself into action. He sprung up, canteen forgotten in the stream and bolted back up the bank, his fingers clawing into the clay.

He scrambled to the top and was met with a pair of legs. There was a flash and a pressure on his chest and Cosimo was airborne, gravity grabbing at him and bringing him down hard into the outer bank of the stream. Cosimo let out a gasp of air on impact but quickly sprung to his feet and turned to hop the stream to the other side.

A hand grabbed him by the strap of his rucksack, and he was yanked backwards. “Hey! Wait!” Cosimo cried, bringing an elbow back sharply and his head back too. He slipped under the strap of his bag and grabbed the hunting knife and hopped the stream with ease. He didn’t look back.

Humans were bad. They killed people like him, there shouldn’t even be any for miles around!

Cosimo climbed up the opposite bank of earth with deft speed and hoisted himself to the other side, knife ready in one hand, the sheath in his other with one thought and one thought only — to go back to the boy in the elfbow.

He didn’t account for more soldiers to be on the other side of the stream. Cosimo froze again when he was first recognised by another man. They were all fully grown humans. Cosimo had yet to pass his fifteenth year, at least he had a slight boost in height, but he was too skinny to fight.

There wasn’t time to think before a hand was bunched in his shirt again. Cosimo whirled on his heel, slashing out blindly with the knife. The blade cut into the soldier’s cheek Cosimo realised with wide eyes, and the Soldier let him go. Cosimo fell to the side at the sudden lack of force holding him, but quickly got his bearings again and ran to the right of the soldier’s camp.

An arrow whizzed by his ear, startling him and Cosimo lunged to the left only to be caught with a kick to his leg. Cosimo stumbled but remained standing, turning to his new attacker baring his teeth only to get a punch to the face. Cosimo’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell, stiff as an oak onto the forest floor.

A boot stomped down onto Cosimo’s wrist wielding the knife and Cosimo cried out, reaching over with his free hand to paw at the boot but it wouldn’t budge. A knee to the chest followed and Cosimo cried out, trying to wiggle himself free but the human was too heavy. Whether his weight was from his diet or the weight of the uniform of metal that the man wore Cosimo didn’t know.

“Well, well, well,” the human man remarked. Cosimo swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling to free himself from the man’s pin. “You’re only a baby, aren’t you?”

Cosimo bared his teeth in response. They were so close to where Cosimo had left the boy and the fox, and he prayed that the elfbow would protect them from the soldiers.

“Let go of me,” Cosimo demanded, eyes blazing up at the man. The man smiled, something wicked twinkling in his eyes.

“Have you run away from home? You do know what we do to your people in these parts, don’t you?”

Cosimo let out a cry of frustration at trying and failing pathetically to free himself from the man’s grip.

“Please,” Cosimo said. “I don’t mean you any harm. I was just coming for water.”

“Won’t do harm my arse,” the soldier that Cosimo cut ground out, fury winding his features tight. Cosimo didn’t see him lift his leg, but his head whipped to the side with the impact. Cosimo righted his head too early as the man he injured stomped a foot down on Cosimo’s face.

Cosimo heard the bones in his nose crack inside his head while he screamed out loud, a quiet whimper following after his scream died in his throat.

“Hey!” The soldier pinning Cosimo growled. “You can’t kill it. They must be brought to court before their execution.”

Execution?

Cosimo’s struggles to break free renewed at the thoughts of the soldiers taking him away from the boy. “No! No, you can’t! I can’t leave the forest, please!”

The man above him tilted his lips down into a frown. “Sorry kid. Orders are orders, we have to bring ya in.”

“Don’t talk to it like it’s a child,” the angry soldier scolded. The man on top of him reached over and plucked the knife from Cosimo’s grip. Cosimo let out a soft whine at the object of his defence leaving his grasp.

“Just get the irons and let me deal with h—” the man above him said, then corrected himself, glancing down at Cosimo with a frown. “It.”

The angry man stormed off out of sight. Cosimo just stared above at the man still pining him to the forest floor.

“Please…” Cosimo tried. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Like I said kid,” said the man. “There has to be a trial in front of the king.”

Cosimo’s eyes widened significantly. There wasn’t a king for miles around court… how far had Cosimo travelled, and in what direction? The question lingered on his tongue, and he wanted to voice it, but thought better of asking the enemy… or even worse, letting them know just how clueless Cosimo really was.

The man stared down at Cosimo with a stern glance. “I’m going to get you to sit up, if you try to escape, we will catch you, and the other soldiers will hurt you again. Do you understand?”

Cosimo nodded. He hated himself for it, but he had to listen to this man. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t want him dead at that moment. The angry soldier returned with two bands of metal attached together with a thick link of metal between them.

“What— what are they?” Cosimo asked, his voice cracking with fear. The soldier helped Cosimo to sit up which caused a wicked amount of pain in his nose to flare up and Cosimo grunted with the effort.

The man took the metal from the angry soldier and dismissed him with a wave. The other soldier didn’t want to listen but obeyed the man when he told him to go verbally.

The man opened the metal loop and showed it to Cosimo, saying with a reassuring smile: “They open like this, see?”

Cosimo leaned in closer to inspect the metal. “What do they do?” He asked, a little less scared at seeing them up close. The man lifted his hand and put the metal over his own wrist.

“They tighten over your wrist like this, see? They lock— well, they essentially keep your hands tied behind your back so you can’t hurt someone again.”

Not have use of his hands. Cosimo shook his head vehemently. “No. No. I won’t hurt anyone else; I promise. Don’t put them on me.”

The man’s smile faded back into a frown. “I’m sorry, but I have to. Please don’t fight me. I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

Cosimo was trembling in the man’s hands, but he nodded his consent for the man to grab Cosimo’s wrist. Cosimo screamed when the metal touched his wrist and bolted back away from the man.

“Wait! Please! Please! Wait! Ow, please! I won’t hurt anyone!” The man caught Cosimo’s ankle before he could get further away from him and dragged him back. “Please don’t. Please! I’ll be good.”

A shadow crossed the man’s face as he grabbed Cosimo’s arm and pulled it behind Cosimo’s back before locking the second cuff around Cosimo’s wrist.

Cosimo let out a hiss as the metal burned a circle around his wrists, tears coming to his eyes. “Please, I’m sorry. Take them off. I’m sorry. What— agh! What is it?!”

The man grabbed Cosimo’s arms to stop him struggling more and hurting himself. “Iron. It’s a metal that is poisonous to your kind.”

“Please,” Cosimo whispered, the plea coming out soft and childish, fat tears trailing down his cheeks. “Please take them off.”

“I can’t,” said the man. “I’m sorry,” and it sounded like he meant it. The man then got to his feet and waited patiently for Cosimo to do the same. Cosimo pushed himself up, his balance going off and he hissed as he moved his hands to catch himself. All they touched was iron and it burned. The man put a hand under Cosimo’s armpits once he saw the boy struggling and helped him into a standing position.

“Thank you,” Cosimo said, the words like ash on his tongue. Thanking humans now? What would court think of him? His mind trailed back to the boy in the elfbow and guilt flood his body as he was pushed forward gently by the man.

“Change of plan, boys. We are bringing this one back to the King.”

One of the other men stood up, his face the shape of a weasels; small wisps of hair clung to his upper lip and chin in what Cosimo could only assume was supposed to be a beard and a moustache. The soldier lifted his nose high in the air when he looked up at Cosimo, grinning up at him and revealing yellowing teeth.

“It’s not even fully grown,” said the soldier with a high-pitched voice. The nice man holding Cosimo scoffed and pushed Cosimo forward again.

“Either are you, McClagen.”

“Does it know that we kill things like that?” McClagen sneered. The man didn’t reply, but Cosimo’s fate weighed heavy on him, heavier than a cloak made of stone. He frowned as the nice man led him passed the other Soldiers readying to take off again.

—

Continued here

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whump-captain · 3 months

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i have a problem called new ocs and my only solution is redrawing memes lazily

[ID in alt]

#captain's stuff #captain's ocs #ocposting #not whump #(not really)#anyway. these guys have been dormant for like years #and i had a random dream about them so now that's my brain for the next month #they can all be whumpees really #engineer man is the main one bc he gets tortured Real bad to get to the protagonist #but he's also the main caretaker bc the others are like 17 #there's dystopias and big robots and that's all ive got

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iamhumannotamonster · 10 months

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Anyways I read a book where a group of scientists were testing some stuff to create and anti-depressive drug and while that was happening there was a subplot about some kind of animal killing the strays. It turns out the drug caused the scientists to act like violent beasts during the night and at the end all were killed in a fire except two that had to be locked up. They investigated for a cure while being conscious and had to be administered sedatives if they started to get savage again.

What I'm going with this is. Have your scientists whumpees suffer secondary effects from a drug of their own creation, alter their mind, reduce them to a monster, irreparably change their body to match with the deformation of their psyche and have them self-isolate to avoid hurting others while they desperately look for a cure.

#whump blog #Scientist whumpee #Lab whump #Whump prompt #whump idea #emotional whump #They weren't even protagonists the group of scientists were side characters #Except for one who was the protagonist's ugly boyfriend

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shylilbunny15 · 11 months

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Writing Prompts

Prompt 1: Villain x Hero

C.W. Aquaphobia, Thalassophobia, Suggestive, Violence, Angst, Blood.

Perhaps this was the answer! Villain thought to himself. Exhilaration was pumping throughout Villain's body. Giving him a true high. It was only an hour ago Villain was worried he wouldn't be able to go through with this.

"Are you ready to give me an answer"? Villain grinned, velvet and malice in his voice as he pulled Hero to the surface, hands still wrapped around her neck.

Hero gasped for air, trying to hold on to Villain's arm. Hero wasn't sure how much more she could take. She was freezing in the cold lake; any attempt to push villain from off of her would result in another episode of brutal blows to her body like the other 7 times proved. Coughing, shivering, bleeding all of this was driving her crazy, not to mention the constant close calls to drowning Villain was putting her through but, the cherry on top of this horrible cake of torture was the ringing in her ears. This ringing that she couldn't tell was from being doused in water until she couldn't breathe, or from Villain's beatings upon her figure. The ringing the made Hero lightheaded. The ringing that caused Hero to fight the acid conjuring in her throat. The ringing...the damn ringing that drove Hero to have this pounding headache- like having a cinder block broken upon your head. Hero knew she was running out of time. That whatever Villain was doing, she'd have to think of a counter before her mind left her incoherent.

"Well"? Villain pushed. "I'd like an answer; quite rude of you to ignore me". Grip tightening around Hero's neck, leading her to meet Villain's Gaze.

". . ." Panting and Shivers were all Villain got. "You know...it feels great. Seeing you in such a distraught state. I could get used to this. I'm sure you feel it as well. Adrenaline rushing through your veins.. doesn't seem to be doing much in your case".

An annoyed sigh escapes Hero's lips.

"We both know I could end it here. However, I'm being patient and awaiting your answer, dear". Villain's face was showing some concern aside from what was possible annoyance. Villain felt bad about doing this to their poor Hero, but he knew in the end, he was doing it for her own good. It was all good. From the plan of baiting Hero in by running into the snow coated forest, to knocking Hero down with a quick blow on the head, and now all Hero had to do was give their answer. Of course..Villain want an answer, but..Villain wanted "The Answer" upon which they were looking for. Either way, the result would ultimately be the same, Hero didn't need to know that of course.

"Take...a fine guess"! Hero snarled, coughing up a mixture of their own blood and the lake water. Assuming this was an answer to Villain's previous question, a sly smile made its way to Villain's face.

"Oh..but I'd love to hear it upon your lips"~ Villain cooed.

Hero's voice grew sharp, and tired. " "Fuck..yo-" was all Hero managed to get out before being submerged into the lake again.

Villain on top of Hero, the hold on her starting to bruise Hero's neck.

Villain's Gaze upon Hero struggling violently to come to surface was almost soulless. Though his eyes held anger, desire, obsession, yet pity.

"Such a shame.." Villain trailed. "Vulgarities come out of the most beautiful things...it'd be better if you used those lips to answer correctly instead".

It was painful. Everything hurt. Hero was tired, her muscles tense and aching, head spinning and pounding, but wasn't it better? Hero couldn't possibly give in to Villain..could she? No one in their right mind would agree to such an arrangement! It was simple though. Hero agrees to go with Villain- wherever that may be; villain takes care of Hero and as long as Hero obeys and listens like a "good Hero" Villain would consider taking their crime doing at a slower pace. Villain implied a strict "no deal breaking" at the end of his offer, but wouldn't that be Hero's freedom on the line? That's it- there's no way!

Yet here she was reliving a trauma. Maybe I could just let go..here. Hero thought. There it was. For a few moments Hero's thrashing and fighting resistance stopped.

Villain seemed to take notice, but didn't falter.

Ahh...but the others. The city still needs protecting. Promises made, friends in the process of being made, many depending on Hero. Could I even call myself a Hero regardless of how many times I've saved the nation if I just give up?

Pain, burning on her insides, muscles aching, body littered with bruises, cuts and scrapes, but none of it mattered, compared to the burning in her chest. Not just from holding her breath, but also from a feeling of determination. That was it! The adrenaline had sided with her body, giving Hero a rush of strength.

With the last bit of strength Hero had, she sprung up, breaking to the surface of the lake. Fist colliding with Villain's nose.

Villain's hold on Hero's neck broke away, as he stumbled back a few steps, hand already drenched in crimson. Droplets of blood falling into the lake; tainting the clear, subzero, water.

Villain's expression exhibiting raw yearning, infatuation and enthusiasm. His eyes said it "raving manic".

As quick as villain had made eye contact with Hero, so had his fist with Hero's stomach. With Hero on her knees, Villain attempted to submerge the weakened Hero once again. Only this time, Hero seemed to be putting up more of a fight, even though it did take everything she had in her to do so.

"Oh, Come now, Dear; This is absurd"! Villain scoffed. Irritation beyond clear.

Hero was burning with rage. What had she done to have such an act driven upon her?! Hero managed to grab hold of Villain's shirt, flipping them over with Hero on top now.

"You're weak"! Villain taunted as he took Hero by the wrist, pulling her close. Swift and hard Villain head-butt Hero, allowing himself to maneuver his leg and send Hero tumbling into the water.

Villain rose up eyes locked on Hero's form. He couldn't help but laugh. "Can't you see it"?! Villain gave a genuine smile. "Your condition is only worsening, you're on the verge of crumbling, I know it hurts, and yet...you're still going- still..fighting".

Hero stood up, legs shaking, breath ragged, and mind screaming to just give up.

"That is why I'm doing this. Even when death has its hands around you, you still fight. That burning fire in you. I don't know where you get it from. So passionate, only for it to become a wildfire such as now".

Hero remained still trying to keep her balance, listening to Villain. "M-My...my will to live. So, that's what's driving you to do this".

"Not quite-"

"Insane". Hero mumbled.

"What"? Villain questioned.

"you're fucking insane"!! Hero shouted, hysterically; laughter of the same form soon followed.

Villain watched, a frown exhibit as he watched Hero curiously. "You're not well..come with me". No wonder she didn't say anything, she was confused! Villain had figured it out. Hero needs his help, to be taken care of, and it could only be him. Villain! Besides Hero wouldn't have to worry about the crime when they had villain with them. Anyone else who dares to hurt his Hero, well..let's just say he would make sure they could never do so again.

Bangs covered Hero's eyes as she started to shake. Not just from freezing, but what seemed to be anger. Hero let out a shaky breath. "No..". Hero breathed.

"No"? Villain repeated.

"you wanted an answer..there it is." Hero began to stagger, holding her stomach.

Villain watched the Hero as though looking at a complex game of chess. Lost in thought. "Perhaps a bit more convincing is required". Villain said, making his way to Hero.

Hero prepared herself for whatever attack Villain would try. Though, once Villain reached Hero, he didn't attempt to hit her. "I'm not going with you" Hero implied, standing her ground.

Villain gave a tiresome sigh. "I see now. It's that spiteful fight in you; suppose I'll just have to tone it down a bit" Villain muttered, tightening his glove.

Maybe it was Villain's swift movements or maybe it was Hero's current condition, but she'd barely been able to see him move before sending a punch straight into her chest. Knocking the breath right out of Hero, sending her into the lake once again, submerged.

Villain took hold of Hero's neck, looking down at Hero thrashing underneath him, trying to come to surface. Hero tried everything their mind would allow. Kicking, pushing, scratching. Nothing was working.

There it is. Like a switch. Flick! Hero couldn't comprehend or think, she'd fallen numb. Releasing her hold from Villain, Hero's body went limp.

After a moment, Villain brought Hero to surface. Watching half lidded eyes blink at the sudden light.

"I don't intend to kill my prize. Like anyone would..I'll take very good care of it" Villain mocked, his voice smooth and oddly enthusiastic.

Hero couldn't take it anymore, the shivering, aching muscles, tired eyes..and of course the bothersome ringing. Hero gave way to the darkness consuming their eye sight, falling unconscious.

Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/shylilbunny15/744971270168379392/writing-prompts?source=share

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esperosisdoeswriting · 9 months

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Accursed, Chapter 1

Accursed lives rent free in my brain and has ever since I wrote it, I like to go back to it every once in a while and, when I did recently, I thought I myself “Yes Chapter 1 is good, but I’ve improved a ton since then (literally wrote an entire book lol) so I can do so much better now” as such I decided to rewrite the entire first Part/Chapter and I’m so much more happy with it now. Deffo gives the vibe I’m going for as-well as better incorporates a few plot elements and showcases personalities of our two main characters better. Overall, I like it quite a lot!

BE WARNED, Accursed deals with some very heavy topics and themes, please read the content warnings and be advised! This is a Supernatural/Psychological Horror with a child protagonist, so… yeah that should tell you a bit. BUT also keep in mind the main theme of Accursed is hope and overcoming adversity, so while there is darkness, there is no despair (if that makes sense)

Enjoy 2.5k words that turned into 7.2k words!

CW: Child Abuse (Minor), Threats of Violence against children, Referenced past violence against a child (There is no explicit violence against a child in this chapter), Religion (used somewhat as a coping mechanism), discussion of Suicide (and its relationship with Religion)

Tags: @sunflower-searching-light

The glass was shattered. Mom had broken it a while ago, delicate things never really lasted very long near her, or him, or anywhere. Lucas never really understood the

purpose in making things that broke so easily. If they could break they would, and then they were useless.

It didn’t really make sense to Lucas, but not a lot of things did.

Lucas stared more at the glass than his reflection in it as he sat on the bathroom counter. The soap was almost gone, he’d climbed on the counter to see if the cabinet with the mirror had any more in it, the cabinets below didn’t.

Lucas wasn’t quite sure how to open the mirrored cabinet, it didn’t have a handle like normal ones did. He didn’t ask mom, she was very tired lately and he didn’t want to upset her from having to see his face.

He looked at his reflection and wondered what it was about his face that caused so much pain and hardship. Mom hated seeing it, and anytime one of things that weren’t supposed to exist saw it they swarmed in and stuck to him like glue or a leech.

His face looked normal to him at least.

Two eyes, though he couldn’t see the right one since pieces of glass had fallen revealing the dark board underneath. He didn’t need to see it though, he knew it was the same light green as his left.

Dark cracks spiderwebbed across his pale skin, but when he touched his face he found it smooth and whole. His hair was short light brown, even though his mom’s was blonde. Maybe that was it, he had dad’s hair color and that’s why mom hated him and the things cursed him and tormented them both.

He always hated Dad, it made sense Mom would hate him for being related to the man.

Something moved in the darkness of the bathroom behind him and Lucas couldn’t be bothered to scream or cry or run away. It was tiring being scared all the time, so he just climbed down from the sink as the slinking creature followed him into his bedroom.

---------------------------

“Everything's going to be better now, you hear?” Mom told him as they drove too fast down the dark country road. “It was the city,” she hissed, “It was a- a- a cesspool of those monsters, those things. They grew and- and spawned in every darkened corner and dumpster filled with garbage. But not here baby! Not here! They can’t follow us out into good ol’ nature.”

Mom laughed as she petted Lucas’ hair, refusing to look at her as Lucas blankly stared out the window.

It wasn’t going to be any better. Lucas knew that the moment he saw the glowing yellow eyes staring at them from just beyond the tree line. He knew that the moment he heard the odd bump coming from the trunk of the van where something had crawled in. He knew it in the way Mom cried as she tried to reassure both of them.

He didn’t tell her it wasn’t going to get any better. But something told him that she knew it anyway as they finally arrived at the old cabin in the woods, far away from anyone that could hurt them.

Far away from anyone they could call to for help.

-----------------------

Mom was screaming down stairs again and hitting things, probably fighting the winged thing with mouths for eyes Lucas noticed nesting on top of the refrigerator earlier. He didn’t bother going down to help her. She could manage fine on her own and she was more likely to just start hitting him with the broom and screaming than she was to thank him.

Not like he could do much anyway.

Maybe, when he was older, he would be able to help Mom, when he was ten, or twelve, or sixteen. He could sit mom down, tell her it was all going to be okay while he took up the broom and caved the god-forsaken thing’s skull in. But he was eight, and his hands were small and the broom was too heavy.

He was useless really. Mom was right to hate him, it was his fault she was suffering like this.

Mom kept screaming as more bangs rang throughout the cabin.

Lucas felt the bed dip near him. He didn’t bother looking up.

“Lucas” the thing that had climbed in his window cooed to him. Lucas was fairly sure he’d closed it earlier, something must have opened it. Maybe he could get some kind of lock?

“Lucas,” the creature continued to hum as it slithered closer to him, finally coming to rest in the small space between Lucas’ back and the bedroom wall.

“What?” Lucas asked as he continued to read.

“Aren’t you tired Lucas?” the creature asked.

Lucas frowned at that as he finally looked up and over his shoulder at the creature, they didn’t usually talk this much. Just cooed and hummed and screamed his name while they tried to drag him away or tear him to pieces.

The thing was pale, its skin was white and sort of translucent, Lucas was fairly sure he could see whatever counted as muscles the thing had. It sort of reminded Lucas of a squid or that weird blobfish thing he’d seen on TV one time. It looked soft and sort of slimy, its seven eyes were beady and as pitch black as its side-ways mouth with rows of sharp, needle-like teeth.

Lucas’ frown deepened, not the weirdest or scariest looking monster he’d seen, but he really didn’t like how close it was. He didn’t want it getting slime all over him. “What do you mean? It’s the middle of the day.”

“No Lucas,” the creature whispered. “You don’t run anymore, you don’t scream or call out to your mother or even cry when you see us. You’re tired.”

Lucas turned back around to look at the book in his lap, “It’s exhausting. Not like it does anything anyway.”

“Yes Lucas,” the thing hummed in delight. “Don’t you want it to stop?”

“Obviously,” Lucas turned the page carefully, it was so thin the light from the window shown through it and the book itself was old. Lucas didn’t want to rip it.

“We can make it stop, you can make it stop. Don’t you want your mother to not have to suffer anymore?” the creature cooed into Lucas’ ear.

Lucas sat still, frozen for a moment, his hand still turning the page as silence fell between the both of them. His mom kept screaming downstairs.

“How?” Lucas asked as he finally resumed his movement and finished turning the page.

“Come with me Lucas, there's a place I can take you, and it’ll all be over.”

“Why do I have to go anywhere?” Lucas glanced back at the thing, “I just want you and your friends to stop coming here.”

“Because Lucas, you have to die,” the creature told him and Lucas tensed.

“Why?” Lucas scowled, “I thought you said you were going to stop and now you’re saying you’re going to kill me?”

“I’m sorry Lucas, but there is no way out of this where you live,” the creature spoke, its voice a mockery of sympathy. “You must die, but your mother will live. Your mother will be free and happy, don’t you want that Lucas? Neither of you will suffer anymore.”

Lucas brought his thumb up to his mouth and slotted his fingernail between his teeth, “ ‘Wherefore let them that suffer according to the will of God commit the keeping of their souls to him in well doing, as unto a faithful Creator’, “ Lucas mumbled, “Peter 4:19.”

“What?’ the creature asked.

“S’the bible,” Lucas took his thumb from his mouth as he blankly stared at the floor ahead of him. He closed the book and lifted it to show the creature his worn copy of the Bible. He’d read it more times then he could count, it was one of the only things he had.

“...Right,” the creature nodded, “Do you believe in heaven?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas admitted, “It’s nice to think about. That after this I’ll get to go to heaven with Mom, and everything will be okay.”

“Then why don’t we take you there a bit sooner,” the creature hummed. “Why wait and suffer as you do? When you can go to that wonderful place now and wait for your mother to join you?”

“I don’t want to go to Hell,” Lucas admitted as he held his Bible.

“Why would you go to Hell?” the monster asked, “You are blameless and without sin in this situation. Besides, I doubt children go to hell.”

Lucas shook his head, “Babies go to hell all the time, that's what the Bible said. If i kill myself I’ll go to hell, besides I’m not even baptised.”

The creature seemed to flounder at that, “We… We can baptize you on the way?”

“But it won’t matter if I kill myself,” Lucas bit his finger nail again, “ ‘And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and though shalt glorify me.’ Psalm 50:15.”

“We’ll kill you Lucas,” the creature assured him, “that isn’t suicide.”

“Yes it is,” Lucas hunched in on himself, “Because I’ll be going with you willingly! If I go with you I’m willing! And if I’m willing it’s suicide and I’ll go to Hell!” Lucas gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to go to Hell. He really, really didn’t want to go to Hell. That was his worst nightmare. He wasn’t even sure if he believed Hell existed honestly, but even just the concept of it scared him so deeply he didn’t want to risk it, not even for a moment.

Because if this was what life was like, what was hell going to be like?

The creature fell silent at that and the sound of his mother’s struggles with the monster down stairs finally ended.

“We’ll give you some time to think about it Lucas, the offer is still on the table, if it ever becomes too much. We’ll make sure you are baptized on the way to your final resting place,” the creature finally replied.

Lucas didn’t look as it slithered out the window.

-----------------------

Mom was sick, she could barely get off the couch most days and Lucas was fairly sure she’d stopped trying. Lucas made his way over to her with the scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice he’d put together. He was good at using the stove and hardly ever burned himself.

Mom glared at him as he handed her the tray, her gaze was distant and full of hate and disgust. Lucas tilted his head down, hoping maybe if she didn’t have to see his face as clearly she wouldn’t be as upset about it.

“You’re a curse Lucas,” she hissed as she stabbed the eggs too hard. “This is all your fault. None of this shit happened untill you were born.”

“I’m sorry mom,” Lucas told her as he worried the hem of his shirt.

That only seemed to make Mom more upset, “You’re sorry? You’re sorry?! What the hell does sorry do for me, huh? Will you being sorry make the monsters leave me alone?!”

“No,” Lucas wilted further.

“Then what use are you? Huh! Tell me what use you are!” Mom raged at him.

“I’m not,” Lucas stared at the ground, “I-”

“Get out of my face you god damn brat,” she hissed at him as she turned her attention back to her food.

Lucas quickly padded away from his mom and up the staircase, muttering to himself over and over “ ‘This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.’ Psalm 34:6.”

God did not hear him. God did not save him from his troubles.

Maybe God wasn’t real, or maybe Mom was right, and God had damned him after all.

-----------------

When Lucas walked down the stairs, ready to make Mom her breakfast, only to find her dead on the couch, he couldn’t even manage to find it in himself to be surprised. He didn’t know how she died, probably the illness, but at least her face looked peaceful.

She likely didn’t feel any pain, and that was something Lucas could feel grateful for.

“She’s in heaven now,” the same creature from before spoke from where it sat in the sliding glass doorway next to the couch with Mom’s body on it.

“If it exists,” Lucas agreed.

“Don’t you want to join her?” the creature asked.

“Yes.”

“Then come with me,” the creature extended one of its tentacles with its deformed and boneless hands at the end. “We can reunite you with your mother Lucas.”

Lucas looked at his mother’s peaceful face and shook his head, “If I go with you, I’ll never see her again.”

The creature sighed, “Then we’ll give you more time then. But don’t wait too long Lucas, starvation is an awful way to go.”

Lucas kept his eyes on his mother as the creature once more slithered out of his home. She was gone. Mom was dead and gone and maybe in heaven with God, if they existed. It was a nice thought, that there was a Heaven and a God that would make sure to deliver him from his troubles, that would ensure everything would be okay at the end. But Lucas wasn’t sure of anything, how could he be? He didn’t understand anything, not really.

There was only thing he was sure of, and that's that he couldn’t just leave Mom here, she deserved better than rotting on the couch.

It took the better part of an hour to find and drag the shovel from the rickety shed in the backyard and then use it to start digging the hole. Lucas was pretty sure he heard that graves needed to be six feet deep, but he wasn’t exactly sure how deep it was. He didn’t have a ruler, and he wasn’t sure where to find one, so he decided to just dig the hole a little deeper than he was tall.

It took hours as the sun crept along the sky and soon to be grave dirt coated his clothes and skin. The monsters didn’t help or hinder, just silently watched him from behind the trees and even one was perched on the roof, staring down at him. He ignored them, the shovel was too heavy to use as a weapon and there were a lot of them.

Lucas huffed and gasped and grunted and recited bible verses under his breath as he dug. It was exhausting, and by the end he was about ready to collapse from exertion as he sat at the edge of the shoddy grave, his feet dangling into the hole.

He liad back for a moment, catching his breath and staring absently into the bright blue sky, watching as puffy white clouds drifted by aimlessly. It felt weird. His mom was dead, and yet it was nice outside. Nice puffy clouds and bright blue sky, he’d seen the same clouds in those paintings with happy people at the beach or on a picnic or kissing in big dresses.

Today wasn’t a happy day, didn’t the world know his mom was dead?

Lucas didn’t understand anything, he knew it was probably because he was a very very stupid boy, but it didn’t change anything.

His legs were dangling in his mom’s grave and the world was happily chirping along. Maybe if he had gone with the monsters mom would be alive right now. But she isn’t. She’s dead, and there's no bringing her back.

Lucas wouldn’t want to even if he could.

He sat back up, there was nothing to do but sit back up really, and he carefully made his way back inside. He hesitated at the doorway, he was a mess, covered in dirt and roots and sweat. Mom would be upset if he made the house all messy.

Right. Mom’s dead.

He took his shoes off anyway.

As carefully as he could he pulled his mom off the couch and gasped as she tumbled to the floor in a heap. He winced as his hand fluttered about and a low whine escaped his throat.

“Ah, s-sorry mom, I just need to get you to your grave,” he fretted as he grabbed her arm and started to pull.

He was weak, but mom had wasted away long before she’d died. It took a long, long time of heaving and pulling and moving only tiny little bits, but he finally managed to pull her out of the house and to her final resting place.

He wished he was big and strong, he wished he could lower her into her grave properly, but all he could really manage was bracing his legs against the ground and pushing her with all his might until she rolled into the dirt hole he’d dug for her.

It was clumsy and far less than she deserved and Lucas knew he was a bad son for doing it and so many more things, but it was all he could offer her now.

Lucas stood on shaking legs at his mother’s corpse laid in the dirt. Lucas sucked in a breath and tried to stay strong, tried to be strong, tried to me anything beside the weak, useless thing he was. But as tears began to roll down his cheeks, too many and too large for him to wipe away he couldn’t help but cry out for his mother.

“Mom, I’m s-sorry,” Lucas wept, “I’m sorry I was bad, that I couldn’t be better. I tried, I really did! I know it’s not… I know it doesn't matter because it didn’t work, because I was still bad, but I love you. I love you so much and I hope you’re happy in heaven.”

Lucas ran inside and knew he was failing his mom once more by failing to properly put her to rest.

-------------------

The pale squid monster was right, starvation was really awful.

It had been around a month now since mom had died, her body laid properly to rest with a shabby bundle of tied sticks marking her grave. It was less than she deserved but Lucas didn’t know how to make a proper grave stone and he was too tired and weak to grab a big rock.

Everything hurt.

It hurt when he moved, it still hurt when he lied down and kept still. He’s been trying to ration his food out, that's what the people on TV did when they went camping. This was kinda like camping, right? Just instead of a tent he had the cabin and instead of a few days it was a few weeks.

It would be okay. He’d figure something out.

Anything less was suicide.

He knew the way back to town. Well, sort of. He knew the road that led away from the cabin would eventually lead him back to town since it was just the one road and there weren’t any splits or anything like that. So if he followed the road he’d get back to town.

That was something he figured out almost immediately, what he was stuck on was how he was going to actually get there.

He couldn’t drive and he couldn’t call anyone to come get him, mom had broken the spinny phone throwing it at a monster and the plastic had broken apart. That left walking which… Lucas really didn’t want to do.

The monsters had been surprisingly idle for the past month. Squid came by every day to ask if Lucas was ready to come with it yet, and everyday Lucas refused. Lucas didn’t really understand much but, if he was smarter, he might have said the thing was starting to look nervous, or at least an imitation of it.

Lucas could only guess that meant he was going to starve to death soon, but Lucas wasn’t sure why that made the squid nervous since it wanted him dead anyway, so what does the method or place matter?

Then again, Lucas didn’t really understand much of anything, so he was probably wrong.

But regardless, the monsters hadn’t really bothered him, just leaving him alone to slowly starve to death in peace, or what Lucas could count as peace.

Lucas got the distinct impression that leaving the house and starting along the road would very quickly end that peace however. The monsters’ soulless eyes stared at him from the treeline and Lucas knew that if he came close, they’d snatch him up and take him by force wherever Squid wanted him to go.

But he couldn’t do that, because if he willingly went over to them knowing they’d snatch him up, then it’d be just as bad as if he decided to go with Squid.

He just had… He just had to figure out how to get to town safely. Soon, preferably.

He was… He was really hungry.

----

Lucas watched as the sun finally set over the tops of the trees, the long shadows finally bridging the long gap of the backyard and reaching the back of the cabin. Lucas was nearly out of food, only a sparse few bags of chips and frozen bags of vegetables left, but that wasn’t what Lucas was worried about at the moment.

Squid had looked pleased this morning, smug even, if Lucas was interpreting it’s expressions right. He probably wasn’t, he wasn’t very smart and he didn’t really understand much. Lucas didn’t really understand why it was so pleased.

But then he saw it, and he understood.

What lurked beyond the trees, staring at the house since the late afternoon was by far the largest monster he’d ever seen. It was larger than mom’s van with pure white fur and red eyes that seemed to stare directly into Lucas’ soul even from the distance between them.

Lucas swallowed hard and hid the first time he saw it, making sure he wasn’t in sight of any of the windows as he trembled in terror.

Something about that thing was different to the rest, and that difference sparked the terror Lucas was so sure had long died back into an inferno. This thing wasn’t normal, not even by monster standards, that much was obvious just by looking at it. The way it moved, the way it stared, the way Lucas got the distinct feeling it was waiting patiently for… something.

That thing was smart.

Squid was able to fake being smart pretty well since it could talk, but it wasn’t really, Lucas got the feeling it was just being told what to say by something else. Then again, Lucas didn’t understand much, so he was probably wrong.

But the large White creature, with its wolf-like face and large clawed front arms, that thing Lucas knew deep down in his soul was actually smart, much smarter than he was.

It was going to take him away, and with its size Lucas would be powerless to stop it.

But he had to try, anything less would be suicide.

So as the shadows finally touched the house he retrieved his final defense from the kitchen cabinet.

Mom, when she was still mom, always wanted him not to play with fire. Fire was dangerous and could burn you badly, even kill you. Lucas had always kept her words in mind, he always kept everything his real mom told him in mind, and had been very careful with fire and the stove. He wanted to be a good son.

Now, he was going to be a very bad son.

He reached into the cabinet and pulled out the gasoline canister and match book he’d left in there when he’d found it two weeks ago. He wasn’t sure how well fire would do against that thing, but it was covered in fur, so Lucas figured it would at least slow the creature down, hopefully long enough for Lucas to escape.

If not, then, at least he tried.

Lucas peaked out the sliding glass door, making sure to hold the canister and matches out of sight of the glass.

The thing was walking across the backyard.

Lucas felt his heart pound in his chest as he practically jumped out of view. It was show time it seemed. Lucas backed away from the door, his eyes locked on the glass as he fumbled with the canister lid. He’d pour the gasoline on the carpet between them, then set it on fire, then he’d use the fire as a distraction and he’d climb out the kitchen window behind him.

He could- He could do this.

Lucas tensed as a large shadow loomed from behind the glassdoor and Lucas prepared himself for the glass to shatter. He’d need to be quick, the thing probably wasn’t very fast, but neither was Lucas.

But then, to Lucas' shock and mild horror, the glass door began to smoothly slide open as the creature used one massive claw to open the door. Lucas froze in shock as the large clawed hand, covered in white fur with four fingers and a thumb gingerly pressed down into the carpet before it, the creature's head following quickly after.

Surprise and confusion locked Lucas’ body in place as the figure’s form seemed to almost bend and contort in a way that looked almost natural as it shrunk in order to fit through the door, comfortably fitting in Lucas’ living room even as it towered over him. But what most confused Lucas and stopped him from acting was the expression on the things’ face.

Lucas imagined that the thing would be snarling and growling at him, or maybe smiling and cackling as it tormented Lucas and prevented his escape. But no, the thing’s face seemed completely calm, even neutral as its bright crimson eyes stared at Lucas, cold and calculating.

Lucas gripped his canister tighter as he shakily lifted it up in front of him, “D-Don’t move.”

The creature stopped moving, silently staring down at him, frozen in place as it sat in front of him.

Lucas trembled, “I… I’m going to, ah, I’m going to leave now. Don’t… Don’t follow me, or, or I’ll set you on fire!”

“That’s a good idea,” the creature hummed and Lucas felt his mind catch alight. The creature’s mouth didn’t move as it spoke, and yet he could hear the thing’s unnaturally deep voice echoing off the walls of his mind. Lucas felt his breath catch in his throat at the sound.

“The fire, that is,” it continued, “Fire is usually a safe bet for trying to kill something you don’t understand, it certainly helped out all the humans the first time.”

“The… first time?” Lucas asked.

The monster lifted its massive hand and waved it dismissively, “Don’t worry about it kid.”

“I- I said don’t move!” Lucas thrust the canister in front of him. The creature looked down at him, its eyebrows lifting in surprise for a second, before a smile tugged at its jaw, its massive hand hanging limply, frozen, in the air.

“You did, didn’t you, sorry about that,” the creature hummed, though Lucas felt like it didn’t sound very sorry.

“I’ll do it!” Lucas told him.

“Can you?” the creature tilted its head.

“Yes!”

The creature leaned for just a little, “Are you extremely sure you can manage it at this point?”

“I-” Lucas opened his mouth to insist that, yes, he could! And he would! But he was immediately cut off by a burst of movement to his right.

Faster than Lucas could even blink, the creature raised its left hand and brought it down on the couch next to Lucas, smashing it to pieces in an instant. Lucas gasped and cowered as wood and fabric and stuffing erupted from right next to him. His breath caught in his throat as he lifted his arms on instinct to try and protect his face and neck, gasoline splashing on the carpet, himself and a bit on the match box he held in his other hand.

He tensed, waiting for the pain of the impact, but it never came. He cracked open his eyes and looked to the couch, only to see a wall of pure white. His eyes looked back up to the creature and he saw that, while the creature had smashed the couch with his left hand, he’d put his left between Lucas and the destruction to shield him.

Lucas stared at the thing and its smiling face, his heart jack-rabbiting in his chest.

“You see,” the creature sighed as he gingerly brought his hands back down in front of him, resting all four limbs where before he’d been standing on his hind legs, its paws balancing it. “The smart part of your plan was the fire,” it continued.

“Fire actually would give me some trouble, not enough to really harm me in any meaningful way, but it would buy you a few seconds. Buuuut, you should have poured the gas while I was walking across the lawn, that way all you needed to do was light it when I got there. Pouring the gas takes way too long to do it when I’m this close. Tough luck kiddo.”

“A- Ah,” Lucas wilted.

“Now, gimmie the matches kid, you’ve got gas all over them, if you light them now you’ll just set yourself on fire. Which I assume isn’t something you want to do,” the creature hummed as it gingerly lifted its massive hand and reached for the match book.

“No!” Lucas shouted.

The creature stopped, then tilted its head and raised an eyebrow, “No?”

“I’m not-!” Lucas stared up at the thing, “I won’t just let you kill me, or take me, or whatever!”

He dropped the canister and took one of the matches from the book. The creature tensed as gasoline spilled across the floor around them, the liquid rapidly draining from the canister.

“So I’ll get a bit burnt!” Lucas gritted his teeth, “That’s okay, I doubt I’d ever manage to get away from you unscathed anyway. But you’ll get burnt too! I’ll run away and put the fire out, then I’ll keep running until it’s all over. I won’t go willingly!”

The creature stared down at him, tense and wide-eyed. Then a low grumble began to emanate from its chest. Lucas tensed, anticipating the rumble to grow into a growl, ready to light and drop the match and run as the creature finally lost its patience and snapped him up in its jaws.

But, much to Lucas’ surprise the creature burst out in loud, explosive laughter. The creature lifted its hand to its face as tears leaked down its face and its laughter echoed off the walls inside Lucas’ mind and the very real walls of the cabin.

“I’m really starting to like you kid,” the monster laughed, “that bull-headed desire to live you have is actually quite endearing, it’s also gonna be very very helpful in what’s to come.”

“W-What’s to come?” Lucas deflated slightly as confusion once more took over.

“This is just the beginning kiddo, now, stay put for a second, I’ve got something I need to do,” the creature grinned down at Lucas, its eyes twinkling.

“Does…” Lucas swallowed hard, “Are you not going to kill me?”

The creature chuckled, “No Lucas, I’m not going to kill you, or take you away. Well, actually I am going to do that, but not to where the others want you to go.”

“Then where-”

“Shhh,” the creature hushed him as it brought a massive claw to Lucas’ lips, its talon the length of his face pressing gently against him. “Just hang tight for a minute for me.”

Lucas blinked in confusion and surprise at the creature then plucked the matchbook from his limp fingers and turned to the door, “I’ll just be a moment.”

Then, it barrelled outside, the force of its movement pushing Lucas the wet carpet, more gasoline soaking into his pants and covering his hands. Lucas wrinkled his nose as the fumes intensified and his eyes watered at the horrible smell.

He stood on wobbly legs, gas fumes, confusion, hunger, and retreating adrenaline causing his mind to grow fuzzy and disconnected. He carefully made his way to the stairs and gripped the handrail tightly as he stumbled his way up the stairs.

The monster told him to stay put, but Lucas assumed that meant to stay inside the cabin and opposed to standing right where he was before. Then again, he could be wrong and the creature would change its mind and gut him when it came back.

Lucas looked back down the stairs. Well, too late now.

He continued into his room and quickly changed his shirt and pants, throwing the gasoline soaked clothes into the tub and he then started scrubbing his hands in the sink until the awful smell went away.

As he left the bathroom, feeling a little better, he spotted the chocolate bar he’d left on his bedside table for a special occasion. Well, he figured this was as special an occasion as any. He crawled up onto his bed and crossed his legs as he unwrapped the chocolate bar and took a bite.

It was good, really really good, much better than anything he’d had in a long long time, and Lucas wasn’t sure if that taste was due to just the chocolate itself, or the fact that he’d just survived something that should have been impossible. Still, just the taste of it made Lucas feel so much better as he slumped against the wall.

“Oh, you’ve got some candy,” the creature’s voice erupted in his mind, causing Lucas’s eyes to shoot to the door, only to find it empty. Then he heard the window begin to slide open. He turned to stare at the window and found the massive creature carefully sliding it open, then once more shrinking to get inside.

Lucas was hypnotized, watching the creature shrink down to just larger than his mom had been, then grow to a hulking size that left its head resting against the ceiling. The transformations took a few seconds from one size to the next, but just the fact it was able to do it at all mesmerized Lucas.

That and the fact that its fur had turned from a pure white to a deep crimson red, stained in blood.

Lucas gulped.

“Alright, now that all the idiots are dead, we can discuss a bit more what’s going to happen now,” the creature announced.

“The… idiots?” Lucas asked.

The monster once more waved its massive hand dismissively, “all those other monsters hanging out by the treeline, waiting for me to get down with the dirty work they were unable to complete. Though at this point that’s more on you then on them really…”

“I’m sorry?” Lucas asked, unsure if he should apologize or not.

The creature chuckled and shook its head, “Don’t apologize for not wanting to die, kid. You see, their job was to convince you to let them kill you, it’s a whole thing. Anyway, they failed miserably at that because you’re a little fighter, ain’t ya?” the creature grinned as it brought down the heel of its massive hand and rubbed the top of Lucas’ head, messing up his hair and staining it with blood.

“I guess?” Lucas frowned, looking up at the monster.

“That's a good thing, by the way. A very very good thing, because now, our mission is to keep you alive, and your obstinate refusal to die is going to be a major asset to this cause since they can’t kill you unless you want to die.”

“O-obstinate?” Lucas asked, dozens of questions rolling around in his head.

”It means you’re very stubborn,” the monster clarified.

Lucas nodded slowly, “I… I’m not very smart-”

“Yes you are,” the creature cut him off. “You’re ignorant, sure, but that’s not the same as unintelligent. Ignorance you can fix, stupidity you can’t.”

“I…” Lucas wasn’t sure he quite believed that. Mom and the monsters had always told him he was stupid, and they couldn’t all be wrong. “Still, I don’t understand… anything.”

��That’s alright,” the creature reassured him, “there will be more time to talk about this later, for now all you need to know is that you don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to die either, so I’m going to help you. Now, don’t be mistaken, I do find you quite endearing, but I’m doing this for purely selfish reasons, understand?”

“I think so?” Lucas nodded, “We both want me to live because its good for us if I’m alive?”

“Exactly,” the creature messed up his hair some more despite Lucas trying to dodge out of the way, “I told you you were smart. Now, I’m going to hop inside your mind now.”

“W-What?!” Lucas exclaimed as his back hit the wall, instinctively trying to get away from the monster.

“Yes,” the thing nodded, “You see, despite my hulking appearance, I’m actually quite sly. The main thing I can actually do, aside from kick ass and adjust my appearance to an extent, is that I’m able to possess people. That’s actually the reason they asked me to come talk to you in the first place. I’m very good at possessing people and then psychologically, emotionally, and physically torturing them. They figured if I worked my magic on you, you’d crack like an egg.”

“I don’t understand,” Lucas leaned a bit further away, “What’s torture? And I don’t know what psyc- physco-” Lucas scowled as he tried to pronounce the word.

“Psychological,” the creature supplied, “it refers to a person's state of mind. Kinda like how emotional relates to someone's emotions and physical is someone’s body. As for torture, it means making someone feel pain.”

“So you were sent here to hurt me,” Lucas nodded to himself.

The creature smiled, “But you already knew that. See? Smart. You didn’t know the specifics, but you understood the general situation and came up with a plan to try and get out of it. What a cute, smart little boy you are,” the monster cooed as it continued to mess up his hair.

“But you’re not going to, right?” Lucas asked.

“Nope.”

Lucas then scowled, “But you said you were going to possess me, that’s torturing me.”

The creature blinked at him as Lucas’ words processed in his mind, then he grinned and began to laugh once more, “Ah! I see where the- No no, possessing you won’t hurt you kid. I can hurt you once I’m inside your head, but I don’t, like, have to.”

“Oh…”

The creature nodded, “Once I’m inside your head, I can help you get away from the monsters, okay?”

Lucas looked at it warily, “...and you promise not to hurt me?”

“Cross my heart,” the creature made an X-motion over his chest.

Lucas swallowed hard as he looked down at the chocolate bar in his hand. This could be a really really bad idea. He could let this creature in and it could do all number of terrible things to him, it could rip him to pieces from the inside out and Lucas would be helpless to stop it. Yet, it could also be his one chance at escape, his one hope of salvation in this god-forsaken place.

Maybe, just maybe, he could live.

Lucas looked back up at the creature’s shining white and red fur and muttered under his breath, “‘And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not,’ John 1:5.”

“What was that?” the creature asked.

“The Bible,” Lucas replied. “And, okay. Do it.”

The creature tilted his head, regarding him for a moment before it smiled. “Lay back for me, would you, and close your eyes.”

Lucas tentatively laid back and after a moment of staring at the pale wolf covered in blood looming over him, he closed his eyes.

This wasn’t suicide, he decided. It was hope.

---------------------

When Lucas woke up, he wasn’t in bed. Instead he woke up in a dark gray void, seemingly devoid of all life. He looked around and found nothing, just the dark gray dusted ground and the slightly lighter gray featureless sky.

“Ah,” Lucas deflated, “I’m in hell.”

“Not quite kiddo,” a familiar voice announced from behind him.

Lucas spun around to face the creature, only to find its voice wasn’t the only thing about that that had changed. Now, instead of its voice echoing around in his mind with an inhuman rumbling depth to it, it sounded much more like a regular human man’s voice.

It also looked human to.

The monster stared down at where he sat, looking almost indistinguishable from a regular human. It stood above him with the pale, almost pure white skin and white hair so light it seemed to glow hanging messily just over his shoulders. His eyes were the same glowing crimson and his teeth were sharp when he smiled. He didn’t look like anyone Lucas had ever seen before, though he’d not really met many people, but Lucas was fairly sure he’d seen people that looked like the creature on TV, smiling and laughing with other beautiful people.

“Though,” he continued, “I will grant you the comparison, I mean, wow kid, this is hands down the most depressing mind I’ve ever been in. Can’t you, like, imagine some flowers or something?”

Their surroundings remained stagnant.

The monster sighed, “Ah well, not quite sure what I expected really.”

“So,” Lucas looked around, “We’re inside my head?”

“I mean, technically you’ve always been in here kiddo, I’m just hitching a ride” the monster crouched down and ruffled his hair again, now with his new human hand. Lucas scowled as he swatted it away, nearly cutting himself on the monster’s long and very sharp nails.

“Ooooooh, testy testy,” the creature laughed as it continued to try and pet Lucas’ hair.

“Why do you look like a person?” Lucas asked as he continued to battle the monster’s hands for rights over his head.

“Figured it would make you more comfortable, which it has so I was right,” the creature finally relented, rolling back and sitting cross-legged in front of him.

Lucas scowled, but couldn’t argue. It was easier talking to the thing when it looked like a person as opposed to the giant hulking creature. He was still intimidating looking with his red eyes, muscular body and sharp white nails, but less so.

“So, I’m asleep?” Lucas asked.

“Bingo again,” the monster grinned, “Your body is very weak, but we can fix that.”

“And we’re going to be… together for a while?” Lucas asked.

“At least two years,” the monster hummed, “We’ll see what happens after that.”

“Okay,” Lucas nodded, not sure why he specified two years, “So, um, what should I call you then?”

The monster gave him a huge grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously, “You could try my name.”

“You have a name?”

“Wow!” The creature put a hand to his chest, “That’s very rude! Yes I have a name you twerp.”

“Twerp?”

“It means you’re a little brat,” the monster laughed. “But for your information, my name is Æthane.”

“Æthane?” Lucas asked.

“Sure is, but I suppose as I’ll be looking after you from now on you can just call me your new daddy,” Æthane smirked.

Lucas wasn’t sure what face he made but it must have been amusing because Æthane almost immediately tilted his head back in howling laughter.

“You’re too much kiddo I swear,” he grinned, “Something tells me we’re gonna get along just fine for the duration of our time together.”

Lucas really hoped so.

Not like he had a choice.

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maideninorange · 1 year

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92, tsubakura?

92. Trying Not to Cry/Holding Back Tears

(TW: Human Experimentation, Needles, Dark and Hopeless Themes. This is one of my bad end fics, so it gets put under a lovely cut no doubt full of puppies and flowers.)

Koharu had expected the so-called "greatest prodigy ever born", once stripped bare of everything they could use to deny their guilt, to cry. To tell them they were right, to take actual responsibility and that they had only themself to blame for everything.

They had not expected to end up strapped down to an operating table, Enraku Tsubakura towering over them with a mad look in their eyes.

"Looks like your mouth couldn't cash that check you wrote there, hm?"

Koharu tried to scream, to pull themself free of the cuffs locking them down. But their mouth was gagged with leather and the leather cuffs tying them down were so tight they made their limbs ache from the pressure.

The pressure was going to be the least of their problems, going by the sick grin that split their face, "Been a while since I had an actual subject there, ya know? You can only experiment on a dimensional weirdo and yourself so many times before you get bored. And since you decided to offer yourself up...Well, beggars can't be choosers."

Don't cry don't cry don't cry-

They heard shuffling. Koharu craned their neck to look over. They watched, eyes widening, as Tsubakura put on clear plastic gloves and filled up a syringe.

"I'm gonna see if I can loosen all your molecules there. There's a good chance you'll melt from the inside out, as the last person who volunteered themself found out the hard way. But...meh, you're younger than most. I'm sure you'll be juuust fine."

They turned around, their eyes twitching with what they could only describe as pure fury. It was enough to make even someone as spiteful as Koharu start to shake.

Don't cry don't cry don't cry-

"Oh quit the bravado there. You wanted a tragic backstory to endlessly whine over, didn't you?" Tsubakura huffed, grabbing their thrashing arm, "I bet your family back home is going to find whatever I do to you real hilarious. Just like how my mother being dead is so cliche, as you put it?"

Koharu wished oh so desperately to take those cathartic words back as Tsubakura lined the needle up with one of their veins. They smirked down at them.

"You deserve whatever this does to you. Hope being 'special' is worth it."

Don't cry don't cry don't cry-

And then, the needle pushed in. And at the white-hot agony that followed, Koharu's tears gushed forth.

#ask and you shall receive (writing requests)#len'en #len'en project #tsubakura enraku #I'm not entirely sure Tsuba would actually do something like this #but I ain't the first person to write Tsuba experimenting on someone either lol #this is probably not what you had in mind #but I got an idea and it just wouldn't leave me #pardon my whump terminology for a sec #but I really wanted to try my hand at a fif where Tsuba was the ''whumper''#as opposed to the ''whumpee'' as I usually write them #(at least in these scenarios)#koharu here was actually based on a TV tropes scroll #where the protagonist of one of those obnoxious bashfics was just everywhere #so I was still a little annoyed lol #as a result I wanted to portray this as the consequences of their own poor actions #deserved? probably not honestly #but they definitely dug their own grave here #so I hope that came across lol #not my best work honestly #but it was a little cathartic to be honest #so I suppose it all works out lol #tw human experimentation #tw needles

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defire · 25 days

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Asthmatic whumpee

Content: medical abuse, death threats, beating/whipping, accidental whump

(stoic whumpee vibes included)

Gagged whumpee moaning through their nose for help as their lips go numb, they slump and then faint

Going gray in the face as whumper pulls out a whip

Crying causes an asthma attack from too much mucus, so whumpee has to force themselves to stay stoic. (Bonus: whumper decides this means they need to break them.)

Whumper actually trying to keep from triggering an attack because it makes whumpee more numb and feel less

Intentionally triggering an attack and laughing as whumpee begins to fear for their life

Whumper thinking they can last-minute save whumpee's life with an inhaler. Cue an hour of spraying albuterol into their mouth hoping they don't actually die (at that point an inhaler doesn't do much)

"I'll give you your inhaler if you..." "Ha. Try inhaler plus my seven other meds AT HOME. I'm gonna die here."

"If you don't cooperate, I won't give you your meds, and your asthma might just kill you." "Fine. I made my peace with that when I got my diagnosis."

The confusion and headache when you're low on oxygen. Blurry vision.

"whumpee get the fuck up. I can tell when you're faking." *Whumpee trying to claw their way to standing as whumper grabs a cane to beat them into submission*

#asthmatic protagonist #asthmatic whumpee #disabled whumpee #whumblr #whump prompts #medical abuse #medical whump #accidental whump #stupid whumper

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seth-whumps · 1 month

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yall dehydration headaches are no joke. standing up is a Chore. you really do stumble forward like a JRPG protagonist unexpectedly communicating with a god, one hand up to the forehead, wincing against the sudden pressure, steadying against the staircase banister so you don't fall down the stairs... dehydrate your whumpees. do it.

#based on real life #actively rehydrating dw it's just gonna take a while lmao #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump prompt #whumperless whump #headache whump #dehydration whump

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whumpfish · 3 months

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Reference: Psychogenic Fever

You've seen it in anime loads of times: the protagonist overexerts themselves or experiences a highly stressful event, and they dramatically collapse. The next thing you know, they're in bed with a cloth over their forehead and an ally informs the rest of us that they have a fever.

Well, it turns out that can actually happen.

If your immune system is already shot, and you experience acute levels of stress, your body will respond to those stress hormones the way it would normally respond to a virus. Your core heats up, and you develop a full-blown fever.

According to what information I was able to dig up, some patients can develop core temperatures of 41°C/105°F. I didn't apparently record mine when this was going on, but given the temperature dysregulation caused by the seroquel I take that prevents me from cooling off if I get hot and the reverse, and how hot literally anything I touched got, I was probably in that higher range.

The Progression:

I went to bed at around 1:45 a.m. I'd already been through so much stress with my grandfather's funeral, how my dad elected to process grief, and scrambling to get the SSI-D function report that had arrived in our mailbox when I was out of town returned on time, I had already crashed out earlier that day from the energy expenditure. Now, I have ME/CFS, and crashing out after exertion/stress is normal, so nothing stood out as a warning sign. If there was one, I dismissed it as my usual fatigue. I went to sleep.

I woke up about 2.5 hours later, experiencing sleep paralysis--presumably in lieu of a fever dream. When I woke up the rest of the way, I was sweating profusely and feeling about like I'd been mowing the lawn in 105° heat. I've done that, and collapsed from heat exhaustion from it, before. I was hotter at that moment than I had been back then.

I put a wrist to my forehead, and the sensation was like holding a hairdryer on high to my forehead at point-blank range. My pillow was just as hot, and no amount of flipping fixed that. (I should point out here that I normally run cold--ridiculously cold, sleep with the quilt up in the middle of a Texas summer cold--and this never happens unless I am very sick.)

I smelled like fever. Some people don't think you can smell fevers, but I was a sickly child and spent so much of my life in pediatricians' waiting rooms full of feverish children that after a while I noticed a particular smell unique to those environments. Since then, I've been able to accurately identify it elsewhere by that smell.

I was completely confused. I'd had to go into the grocery store without a mask earlier that day because I ran out, but even I don't present that quickly. It couldn't be from that. Some old geek part of me remembered Anime Fever, and on a hunch, I googled "can you give yourself a fever from stress?" And yes. Yes, you can.

I sat up, and when I touched the mattress where I had been sleeping with one hand, it felt like trying to pick a dish up out of the dishwasher immediately after it's through running. It was that hot.

The recommended treatment was anti-inflammatories and any relevant psych meds that can reduce anxiety, so I took 800mg of ibuprofen and an extra, small dose of seroquel. Then I took my clothes off and downed a few bottles of water, my usual trick for cooling down once I've gotten too hot, and sat on the foot of my bed to give my mattress time to cool down before getting back in bed to try to sleep.

The fever broke at around 6:15 a.m., and I was finally able to rotate back to the other side of my mattress and pillow, and go back to sleep. I slept until 1:20 p.m.

The Takeaway: This is a real phenomenon! Use it on your whumpees with poor immune systems, either naturally or broken down from their ordeal. It's no longer just an anime trope.

#whump reference #whump #whump prompt #whump community #whump scenario #whumpee #whump tropes #whump prompts #whumpblr #writing #writing reference #my life is a whump prompt #edit: fixed brain fog word omissions #edit: felt like the sleep paralysis was worth mentioning

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chaotic-orphan · 4 months

Text

A Benignant Mischief (6)

Read part one here

Continued from here

Hahahhh I finished it finally! I love my boys so much, they fill my heart with so much joy :;) @annablogsposts this obsession is all your fault! I need to make a masterpost for this... anyways, ENJOY!

*~*~*~*~*

They rode in silence back to the Kingswood as one of the soldier’s had called it. Cosimo had scrunched his nose up at that name. How can a woods be owned by a King? Nature was its own master. Besides, there wouldn’t be Elfbows there if the original inhabitants of the forest were humans. No, Cosimo had the sneaking suspicion that this was the forest Henrik had told him about in his story of Niko’s father.

Cosimo remembered his tutor, one of the Elder Elves, telling him about the histories of their people. How they would live in harmony with nature, together as one, both giving and taking in equal measures. How the humans would come like an invasive species and only ever take… upsetting the balance of the earth to build their soulless cities and castles and nature be damned. Animals be damned.

“Nothing is sacred to humans, Cosimo,” Ludwig had told him. “They are selfish creatures. They would sacrifice anything to satiate their own greed.”

Cosimo’s eyes had gone wide at Ludwig’s cautionary words. He spoke them with such hatred that was foreign coming from the teacher’s mouth. Ludwig was patient, kind, compassionate — so hearing him speak with such malice, it struck a chord within Cosimo that echoed now in his mind and his chest. Jarring, eerie and wrong.

Was he making the right choice in leading the humans to the boy that Cosimo was trying to protect? Was there any way he could possibly distract them? Sneak off and find the boy and the fox and run?

Nestor’s laugh made his chest ache, as he floated into the memory without Cosimo’s permission. Nestor and his happy-go-lucky grin. After he heard Ludwig’s take on the humans he joined the conversation, leaning down heavy on Ludwig’s shoulders. Cosimo remembers smiling as the Elder rolled his eyes.

There was only one elf who would do such a thing.

“Ah, Ludwig. You are scaring the boy.”

“I am merely teaching,” Ludwig said, the hatred gone from his voice as he straightened his spine and grabbed Nestor’s arm lifting it from around his neck. “You should know better than to interrupt.”

“Always good to be a little nosey,” Nestor said, lifting his eyes to meet Cosimo’s and winking at him. “Eh, Cosimo?”

Cosimo’s smile grew into a cheap copy of Nestor’s mischievous grin. “You should know better than to fill his head with such nonsense, Nestor. Not all elves have the freedom to be as carefree as you.”

“If he’s learning the bad he can learn the good of the humans too, no? About their music? Their art? Their love, Ludwig.”

“The boy is but a child,” Ludwig hissed, glaring at Nestor. Cosimo swallowed as Nestor’s smile fell from his face. Ludwig stood to his full height, turning his body slightly to stare at Nestor down his crooked nose. “It is better he be cautious around humans than seek them out for no good reason.”

Cosimo’s heart pounded in his skull but he couldn’t just sit by and watch Nestor be scolded. “I would never do such a thing, Ludwig.”

The two elves turned their head to look at Cosimo who was standing now too, head high, chin up, determined. “I heed your warning. You’re my teacher. I want to learn from you, and from your experiences. What reason would I have to leave court in search of humans? I have everything I need right here.”

Ludwig cocked an arched brow at Cosimo’s words, a begrudgingly proud tightness wound his jaw. “You are too smart for your age, Cosimo.”

“That’s because he has an ancient elder schooling him,” Nestor said with a cheeky laugh, slapping a hearty palm onto Ludwig’s back. “I’m heading out on a reconnaissance mission today.”

“To the humans?” Cosimo asked, ignoring the scolding glance Ludwig sent his way.

Nestor scrunched his lips up. “Sort of. More like, seeing them at a distance. If they’re close to the court we can disguise it better or hide it well, make sure the humans don’t disturb us and just walk past the court.”

“You should go do it then,” Ludwig told him. “Let me get on with my job.”

Nestor hummed sagely, nodding in agreement. “Yes. I agree. Cosimo remember to frown when he speaks so he knows you take him seriously.”

Cosimo laughed as Ludwig shoved Nestor away playfully in reply. “Get out of here.”

“I’m gone.”

Cosimo stared after Nestor who waved before disappearing from sight. Ludwig settled back down, sitting once more and gazed up at Cosimo. “What is it, boy?”

Cosimo swallowed, snapping himself out of his daze and sat back down across from Ludwig. “I just wonder what reconnaissance missions would be like.”

“If Nestor’s anything to go by, clearly it drives you mad.”

Cosimo smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I mean being that close to humans.”

Ludwig’s gaze was heavy on Cosimo’s face, studying the young elf’s features. His high cheekbones and shrewd eyes, always busy, always calculating something behind them. It wasn’t the first time Ludwig had been left out of Cosimo’s musings, but even so… he wanted to know what the boy thought. How his mind worked. But that wasn’t Ludwig’s job.

“We resume,” is all Ludwig said. Cosimo blinked and he was staring at Ludwig, focused once more. He nodded and shifted in his seat, clasping his hands together in front of him. “We resume.”

The memory left, leaving a sense of uneasiness in its wake. Maybe Ludwig was being over-cautious, sometimes he was like that.

And the humans only ever treated us with kindness, a sarcastic voice hissed in the back of Cosimo’s mind. Take off the hood and see their true colours.

Cosimo ignored the voice and focused on the task at hand. They were amongst the trees now, coming close to the camp. Maybe another twenty minute ride.

“Everything okay, Cosimo?” Henrik asked. Cosimo took a deep breath. Everything seemed too big right now. Too much for him to grasp between his fingers and wrestle under his control. All he needed to do was find the boy. Once he saw him, he would be fine. Everything will be fine.

“I just want to find my brother,” Cosimo told Henrik, careful to remember that’s what Cosimo had told the King and his right hand. A lie. He had told them a lie, and when they found out… what would they do to Cosimo then?

When they arrived at the camp Cosimo’s heart jumped into his mouth, remembering the events that happened here yesterday? Today? That brought him back here. How Henrik was the one who kicked him to the ground and kept him there. Cuffing him, bringing him to the palace… it turned Cosimo’s stomach.

Henrik climbed off Ebony behind him, and Cosimo lifted his leg over the saddle to slide down himself beside Henrik. He brushed the hood back off his head, the earth under his feet feeling like a sigh of relief. Nikolas came over to the pair as someone led Henrik’s horse away to be tied off.

“Well, Cosimo,” Nikolas said with a sweeping gesture. “Lead the way.”

Cosimo nodded, searching for the stream he had crossed. He prayed that nobody had been through here since he was. No elf, nobody who came looking. Let the boy be there.

He crossed the stream first, then looked over his shoulder to the King and his right hand. He straightened himself, shoulders pulling back, making himself taller before speaking. “Would it be okay if I went and retrieved the— my brother before I introduce him to all of you? He might be frightened.”

Nikolas tilted his head slightly, regarding Cosimo with his discerning green eyes. Nikolas pursed his lips. “No, Cosimo. I think it’s best if we find him together. What if you get lost?”

Cosimo scoffed. “I’m an elf. I can’t get lost in the forest.”

“All the same,” Nikolas said with a kind smile and a little shrug. Cosimo swallowed and faced forward again, gathering his discarded water container and walking up the slippery bank to the trail on top. He was so close… he could run, the likelihood of the humans catching him was slim. He could disappear in the trees, come out when they had given up looking for him. The boy would be safe in the Elfbow.

Unless the elves started looking for him too. The thought unsettled him more, in which case he would be better off with the humans. So Cosimo planted his feet even though he wanted so badly to run. He had to remember who he was, he wasn’t some scared boy. He had to trust his instincts, they got him this far. Everything would be fine.

“I could do with your long legs,” Nikolas said to Cosimo with an airy laugh as he climbed the bank.

“Or maybe it’s the lack of shoes,” Henrik mused, nodding at Cosimo’s bare feet. “It gives you more grip.”

“Perhaps you humans should whine less,” Cosimo said with a smirk, which only grew when the two humans full attention was on the elf. “It seems to weigh you down more, makes you slow.”

Henrik laughed his deep heart chuckle, and slapped Cosimo between his shoulder blades playfully. It was Nikolas who spoke next: “You lead the way from here, Cosimo. Hopefully we can find your brother before dark.”

Cosimo’s smile dimmed a bit at the edges as he bowed his head slightly. “Of course. This way.”

They trekked in silence back the way Cosimo came, the trees and trail familiar, the forest floor almost guiding him to where he needed to be. Cosimo prayed that the boy be okay. That he’s safe. That the elves didn’t find him and take him back to court or worse.

When the elfbow came into Cosimo’s sight he took off into a run. “There!” Henrik and the King’s footsteps thundered behind as Cosimo ran through the thick coat of leaves with ease. He craned his neck around the tree, chest heaving to see the fox in the nook, cuddled up beside the sleeping boy. Sweat soaked hair clung to the boy’s forehead and he looked far more pale than the last time Cosimo had seen him.

“Cosimo?!”

Cosimo pressed his forehead against the elfbow under his palm and closed his eyes in relief. Thank you. I’m here to take him again.

“Cosimo?” Henrik called from faraway. “Where are you?”

Cosimo’s eyes shot open. Humans couldn’t come into the sanctuary of the elder trees. Elfbows served elves and were almost sacred in their protection. After the humans started destroying forests to clear way for cities and villages, the elder trees made a pact with one of the first elves: that if the elves protected the tree then, it would serve as protector for future generations. Or so the story went.

The court elders always made a point of telling Cosimo that if he was ever lost or scared to find an elfbow and he would be safe from humans. It only occurred to him then, that he could just hide with the boy here and Henrik and Nikolas would never find them.

The humans wouldn’t find them, he reminded himself. Elfbows don’t protect elves from elves. A smaller voice, a childlike voice in the back of his mind continued: and who are you more scared of?

“I’m here,” Cosimo called back, unsure if they would be able to hear him. “He’s here, he’s alright. I’ll be just a second.”

The fox tilted her head as Cosimo entered the small nook, and watched silently as Cosimo hooked one arm under the boys neck and the other under the boys knees and lifted him from the soil and blanket of leaves. The boy was cold and covered in a thick sheen of sweat that made Cosimo’s heart race.

Surely the humans could heal him, they could fix him. Do something! They would know more. The fox chirped at Cosimo’s heel, bowed into a deep stretch her tail swishing as she stood. Black beady eyes peered up at Cosimo and he understood that she was asking: what now? Even if he wanted to, Cosimo couldn’t dissuade the fox from following and protecting the boy. Foxes were far too cunning to be tricked by a young elf.

The boy was far more lifeless than ever, his chest rising shallowly. Cosimo didn’t waste anymore time in the Elfbow’s protection. He emerged from under a sheet of leaves to see Henrik and King Nikolas with their backs turned to Cosimo.

“Here,” Cosimo rushed out, voice hitching as his feet carried him quickly across the distance to the two humans he decided to trust. Even though this could all be a farce, Cosimo was desperate. The fox pattered along behind him.

The humans turned at the sound of Cosimo’s voice, eyes drawn to the half alive boy in his arms. Henrik rushed over went to take the boy out of Cosimo’s hands but Cosimo turned at the last moment, wide panicked eyes meeting Henrik’s stunned gaze turning sympathetic.

“I have him,” Cosimo said, tone clipped. Henrik straightened, nodding.

Nikolas was the one to move them along. “We need to get him to Artzet immediately.”

“Will he be able to fix him?” Cosimo asked, following the humans back through the forest to the camp.

Henrik leaned into Nikolas and said quietly: “Niko, did you—”

“Yes,” Nikolas replied quickly, cutting Henrik off. He glanced over his shoulder at Cosimo, but the fae had his eyes and attention fixed solely on the unconscious boy in his arms, expression tight with worry. “Now’s not the time, Henrik. We can talk more once we get the boy back to Artzet.”

“Did you see the fox?”

Nikolas laughed, low and rich. “Yes. I saw.”

“Do you think it’s coming along too?”

“I don’t think we could dissuade it even if we tried.”

Cosimo was oblivious to the conversation ahead of him as he carefully stepped down the bank of the stream and hopped it effortlessly. The fox padded along beside him, not even faltering when they emerged into the humans camp.

“Come, men,” Nikolas called to the camp. “We are to be off as soon as we ready the horses.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Soldiers milled to action. It was a smaller party than Henrik was with so within minutes they were packed and on horseback again.

Henrik stood beside Ebony and held his arms out to Cosimo. Cosimo’s sharp eyes cut into Henrik, narrow, untrusting. Henrik tried to look as reassuring as possible.

“You can’t get on the horse with him in your arms, Cosimo. Don’t worry, I’ll give him right back.”

Cosimo worried his bottom lip before nodding with a sigh. He passed the boy to Henrik’s strong arms and hesitated before releasing the boy. He quickly climbed up onto Ebony and held his arms out for the boy again.

Henrik’s smile was kind and reassuring as he passed the boy up to Cosimo before mounting the horse behind them. The fox sat in front of Ebony’s snout as she grazed, beady black eyes peering up at the elf.

“Will the fox be joining us?” Henrik asked.

Cosimo nodded. “She will walk behind. I don’t think she’ll mind the distance.”

“Still, it is a long way to go for such little legs,” Nikolas said coming to a stop beside them. “Will she let me carry her?”

Cosimo looked at the fox who tilted her head at him. A silent understanding passed between them, and Cosimo nodded.

“Yeah, she’ll let you pick her up.”

“Come on sweet thing,” Nikolas said, crouching and extending his hands to her. The fox walked towards him, sniffing his hand before plodding up to him and letting herself be lifted. “Oh, she’s so soft. I think I’ll ride with her beside you, so she can still see you both.”

Cosimo nodded. “Of course.”

Nikolas did just that and then they set off out of the king’s wood back to palace, Cosimo holding the boy tight to his chest. Henrik put the hood over Cosimo’s head before they reached the city gates, the cloak partly obscured the sleeping boy’s face, the other pressed into Cosimo’s chest.

Nikolas had one soldier ride ahead and tell Artzet to prepare a bed for the unconscious boy. They didn’t stop for chats with villagers this time, the air of urgency within their ranks must have carried outwards because no one stopped Nikolas for a catchup as they raced through the streets. Hooves clapped like thunder with steady, rhythmic beats as they passed the village to the wealthier residential area and finally the gates of the palace came into view.

“Just hold on,” Cosimo whispered, tightening his hold on the boy as they trotted to the stables. Henrik dismounted quickly, spreading his arms for the boy. Cosimo hesitated, again, but he didn’t have time to waste. This was life or death and Cosimo vowed he would keep the boy safe. They had come too far to risk it all over Cosimo’s feelings.

Cosimo had just passed the boy to Henrik when Nikolas appeared beside them, fox at his heels. Anxiety at not having the boy close crawled thick up Cosimo’s spine along with a sudden warm feeling as he jumped off Ebony. He had only begun to take a step towards Henrik when his vision swam with an impenetrable darkness. The world swayed and his body became like lead and he was falling.

A warm chest caught him before he could make contact with the ground. Cosimo let out a startled gasp, hands reaching up to hold onto the solid person that kept him upright, his body shivering as strong hands wrapped around him, reassuring.

“It’s okay, Cosimo,” Nikolas told him. “You’re okay. You’ve had a very long day.”

“The boy—” Cosimo mumbled, his tongue heavy as he tried to push his legs to work properly so he could stand on his own. An elf leaning on a human… what would the Elders think?

“We’ll get him to Artzet, as promised, dear boy. Henrik will carry him—”

“No.”

“Yes, you can barely stand. Don’t worry, you and I will head up together. Henrik and Artzet will take good care of him.”

Cosimo wanted to protest but there was no time. Instead he fought back tears as he nodded meekly. “Okay.”

Nikolas nodded at Henrik. Henrik turned on his heel and within seconds disappeared into the palace. Cosimo turned in Nikolas’s hold, one hand fisting the fabric of the King’s tunic in a stranglehold to keep standing. He only stopped when he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Nikolas. Nikolas wrapped an arm around Cosimo, the other ready to catch him if he tried to make a move.

“Easy, Cosimo.”

Cosimo risked a step forward. He would have fallen if it wasn’t for Nikolas’s strong arm holding him up. Cosimo let out a breathy curse in elvish, frustrated at his temporary weakness. He needed to get to Henrik and the boy. He needed to make sure they didn’t do anything bad to him. What if they locked him in iron cuffs? What then?

Something scratched the back of his brain but Cosimo didn’t have the energy to focus on it or give it the light of day.

“Just wait a second, Cosimo, it will pass. Your brother’s not going anywhere.”

The air around him was thick and clammy, like there was no actual oxygen getting to his lungs, as if he was inhaling tiny amounts of iron with every breath. He wouldn’t put it past Rochus to do something like that, poison the air while Cosimo was away.

Nikolas reached over to Ebony’s saddle bag and pulled Henrik’s waterskin from it. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

Cosimo took it from Nikolas, unscrewed the bottle and drank it down. The cool liquid was soothing and refreshing as it went down Cosimo’s throat and he found the more he drank the more he wanted to drink. He finished the container of water and opened his eyes, already feeling a ten times better than before.

Nikolas grinned. “Better?”

“Yes,” Cosimo said, handing him the empty water-skin. “Much better. Can we go to Artzet now?”

Nikolas laughed and shook his head fondly. For a short, heart-stopping moment Cosimo thought the king shaking his head side to side meant no, and Cosimo’s mind conjured up the worst.

“You are a determined boy, Cosimo.”

Cosimo felt his cheeks flush pink as he stepped forward, trying to hide his reaction from the king. Nikolas stepped with him until they got to the railing on the stairs. Cosimo let go of Nikolas’s arm and placed all his weight on the railing. He could do this. He could get to the boy. He was so close to saving them.

Once they were up the stairs Nikolas led Cosimo, arm in arm, to Artzet’s clinic. Cosimo almost cried when he saw the boy, something in his arm that connected him to a bag of water. A damp cloth over his forehead.

Myshka was sitting on one bed over, observing Artzet as he worked. Henrik greeted them. “Ah, you’re here. Good.”

“Is it serious?” Cosimo rushed out.

“No, no. Boy is good, strong, healthy of heart,” Artzet replied, smiling at Cosimo over his shoulder. “He will make full recovery.”

“He’ll be okay?” Cosimo whispered, not willing to believe his ears or eyes or anything as he walked with heavy feet to the end of the boy’s bed. The fox was laying there, curled up at the end of his bed and made a noise of recognition when Cosimo approached.

“He will be fine, boy,” Artzet said again, looking to Henrik and Nikolas with a shrug. “I thought that is what I said?”

“Cosimo’s had a long day,” Henrik said. “The two of them both need some rest.”

Cosimo didn’t dare blink in case the world would trick him and make the boy disappear. He couldn’t sleep, not until the boy woke up. He had to make sure the boy was okay. That he didn’t doom them both.

“You say boy is your brother?” Artzet asked, eyes as wide as an owls. Cosimo swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. Did he catch him in a lie?

“Good,” Artzet said happily. “Then I know he will be okay. He will be as strong as his big brother, uh? Now, I set up bed beside him for you to sleep.”

Cosimo glanced up at Artzet and nodded fervently. Nikolas made a noise behind him. “Cosimo, I think a proper bed would be better. Hospital beds are uncomfortable—”

“Niko,” Henrik said softly. Nikolas sighed. Cosimo turned to look at the King. His shoulders sagged as he yielded.

“Okay. Fine, I know I won’t convince you otherwise, but Cosimo, the minute you and your brother are better you—”

Nikolas cut himself off as Cosimo crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around the King, squeezing tightly.

“Thank you,” Cosimo whispered. Nikolas let out a soft, shocked breath of a laugh, wrapping his arms tentatively around the elf.

“It’s my pleasure,” Nikolas replied as Cosimo stepped out of his embrace. “I will go and prepare your rooms. Artzet, I leave the boys in your capable hands.”

“Your majesty,” Artzet said with a bow.

“I’ll stay too,” Henrik said, patting Cosimo’s shoulder. “Until you’re asleep.”

“Full house!” Artzet cried, drawing the covers back on the bed beside the sleeping boy’s. Cosimo walked over to it and climbed in, thanking Artzet and Henrik as he pressed his head to the pillow. Artzet and Henrik started talking in low, hushed voices while Cosimo watched the boy’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall.

Alive and safe.

Cosimo did it. He rescued them. His eyelids suddenly grew heavy and Cosimo didn’t fight them as they slid over his eyes, darkness welcoming him like an old friend. Sleep took him somewhere far away, somewhere he didn’t have to think and worry and fret. Somewhere he didn’t betray his race and seek refuge in humans.

Henrik stayed even when he was sure the elf was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling softly. He looked so much younger when he was asleep, Henrik thought, without the hard crease between his brows. His jaw wasn't clenched, his face relaxed, no stubborn, steely gaze to contend with. He looked like a boy, a human boy around fourteen years old.

Already Henrik had developed a protective streak for the elf, wanting to comfort and care for him as much as the elf would allow. More than the elf would allow. The fondness in Henrik's chest for Cosimo wasn't the only recent feeling that had taken hold of him since he met the boy. There was something foreboding, unnatural, as if there was a presence watching him from somewhere unseen to the naked eye, and Henrik knew that Cosimo's presence here would only spell trouble. Still, he couldn't find it in himself to let the boy go now that he had met him. He still had so many questions to ask him; why he ran, who he was, will he stay?

All those questions could wait until Cosimo and his brother awoke. For now, Henrik pulled up a chair and rest his head against the backrest, content with watching over the newest residents of the palace.

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll call (zee tag-list, lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @tippytappytyping

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oliversrarebooks · 6 months

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we'll make great pets

This bit of pet whump was partially inspired by Stray by @sowhumpshaped and by my innate desire to write protagonists who are kind of assholes.

tw: pet whump, dehumanization, brainwashing, involuntary drugging, captivity, abuse, dystopia, whumper turned whumpee

"Morning, Scout," said Max in a groggy mumble as he ruffled his pet's hair. His pet looked up at him with adoring eyes, as always. It was curled up safe and warm in its nest under a pile of weighted and woolen blankets, and Max couldn't help but be momentarily jealous. He'd love to slide back into his warm bed, but the driver would be here soon and his dad would kill him if he kept skipping out on his stupid business classes.

Pets didn't have to worry about any of that. They didn't have to worry about boring-ass college lectures or overdue papers or their parents riding their ass about the family legacy. All they had to do was eat, sleep, and obey their masters. Must be nice, in a way.

"Here, I brought you breakfast." As Scout sat up, yawning adorably and rubbing the sleep out of its eyes, Max tossed it a breakfast packet in one of its favorite flavors, egg and cheese. Max always bought it the good stuff, premium pet food with lots of protein and all-natural, high quality ingredients. His pet ate as good as he did, most days. Scout happily slurped up the food as Max refilled its water bottle and dumped its pills out into his hand.

"Down the hatch, boy," he said, popping the pills into his pet's mouth and quickly following it up with the water bottle before it could spit the pills out. Scout was well-behaved, having come from one of the finest pet facilities on the Eastern seaboard, but it was sometimes a little fussy about its pills. Max's dad used to slap and yell at the poor thing as though it were capable of knowing better. It had been a lot happier since accompanying Max to college, several hours away from his parents. So had Max.

With his pet all settled, Max turned to his closet to dress himself. Half his clothes lay in a pile on the floor where he'd tossed them aside, dissatisfied, the other day. The housekeeper wouldn't be coming until tomorrow so he'd just have to live with that. "I can't believe how trash all these clothes are. I gotta go shopping. Don't you think so, Scout?"

Scout nodded from his bed.

"Exactly. You get it. Just don't tell Dad how much I've been spending. It's our little secret, okay?" He ruffled Scout's hair as it laughed softly. Scout rarely ever spoke, much less gave up any of Max's secrets. It was a bad habit of Max's to talk to Scout as if it were a person, especially when no one else was around. Scout had been a birthday present for Max's seventh birthday, back when he'd been his parents' great hope instead of their great disappointment, and he couldn't help spoiling it a bit.

Max finally settled on a 90s inspired outfit with a bold floral print, paired with chunky jewelry and an oversized watch. He admired himself in the mirror, slicking back his hair and appreciating his flashy fashion sense.

The next thing was to delve into Scout's clothes to find something complementary. Scout's wardrobe was nearly as large as Max's, and far less constrained, since no one expected a pet to be dressed in the latest designer fashion. Max was free to outfit it in thrift store finds and homemade altered goods, soaking up the compliments he received on his picture perfect pet.

Fashion was his passion, after all. His parents just didn't get it.

His phone was buzzing insistently by the time he finished up with Scout, and so he grabbed a granola bar, clasped Scout's leash on, and dashed out the door to the driver. Scout lay its head in Max's lap in the backseat of the black SUV as Max checked his schedule for the day. He groaned and suppressed the urge to fling his phone out the window when he saw his entire morning would be filled with Economics 300 and Business Negotiations II.

Screw it, he'd just sleep through those. He could scrape a C no matter what he did, and Cs got degrees.

In the afternoon he had -- ugh, he'd forgotten that mandatory pet testing was today. It was required each year from everyone between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four, designed to make sure the pets occurring naturally in the human population were found and given appropriate treatment. It was, of course, trivially easy to pass if you were a person, but it was over three hours long and insanely dull.

Max had always passed with flying colors, of course. It was ludicrous to even test the heir and scion of the Parkington Corporation, as if he could be a pet, but it was federal law and apparently not possible to buy his way out of it.

His little brother, the obnoxiously hardworking golden child who could do no wrong in their mother's eyes, had passed his first pet test just last week, and of course their mother had thrown a disproportionate celebration. Max never got a cake and presents for something as silly as passing a pet test, that was for sure, but darling little Robbie was a genius no matter what he did.

Like it was so hard to prove that you're human.

A soft noise stirred Max out of his thoughts. Scout was looking up at him with a concerned expression. "It's all right, boy," Max soothed, running his fingers through his pet's silky hair. "Just gonna be a crap day. You don't have anything to worry about."

The car pulled up to the main building of McKinnon University, just a few blocks away from the Parkington Building her family had donated a few generations back. Fifteen minutes and one purchase of an enormous latte later, Max was dropping off Scout at one of the university's pet lounges. Pets weren't allowed in educational settings, of course, as too much mental stimulation was bad for them. It was a shame, as Max always found it easier to focus with Scout curled at his feet.

"Be a good boy, Scout," he said, ruffling its hair and handing it its favorite plush cow. "I'll be back soon."

Scout leaned into the touch with a dazed smile on its face. Its morning pills always made it drowsy, so Max knew it'd probably sleep most of the morning. They could go out for a walk in the park once Max was done with classes and his test, maybe play some frisbee, get some exercise.

With no small reluctance, Max left his pet behind and trudged to the lecture hall, ignoring the dirty look from the professor as he took his seat ten minutes late.

The classes seemed to drag on forever, as Max floated in and out of sleep, only catching bits and pieces of his professor's droning and powerpoint presentations before his eyes slid shut again. It didn't matter, none of this mattered. His parents' company was mostly run by the board anyway. He'd just let them handle all that shit while he built his fashion empire, his haute couture gracing celebrities at the Met Gala. Clothes that would make waves, clothes that would make people smile, clothes that would make people look good and feel good. What was even the point of being young and rich if he couldn't have fun?

Finally, Max was released from his last morning class, having learned precisely nothing. He had enough time to grab a bite to eat before the pet test, so he picked up Scout from the pet lounge and headed to a campus cafe that made a great quinoa bowl. He needed the protein and greens if he was gonna stay focused during the godawful pet test.

Since he had a few quiet moments to himself, he pulled out his sketchbook and began drawing out some ideas for a portfolio. Seeing the pet lounge this morning had got him thinking of comfortable and basic looks -- oversized sweaters, leggings, pastels, messy bedhead. Maybe a touch of academia, too, with chunky glasses and pleated skirts. One good thing about campus was that there was never a shortage of people and clothes to draw.

"Hey, Maxie!" Nathan was calling him from clear across the quad, his voice almost as loud as his jacket. He was, unfortunately, one of Max's closest friends since grade school, as their families lived in the same area and they went to the same vacation spots a lot. "Nice outfit. Love the colors."

"Thanks. Love the tiger print."

Nathan laughed. "You hate it, don't even pretend you don't. Hey, Scout." He knelt down to the pet's level as Scout nuzzled against him. "Want some chocolate, boy?"

"Hey, don't feed my pet human food. It's not good for it."

"A little chocolate's not gonna kill it. It's not a dog, you know." Nathan plopped in the chair across from Max as Scout happily munched the chocolate bar. "Whatcha drawing?" He pulled Max's sketchbook from his hands without warning. "Oh, nice. She looks awfully cozy for a stick-thin supermodel."

"That's the idea," said Max, taking his sketchbook back. "I was thinking of the aesthetics behind places like pet lounges and schools and --"

"Excuse me, can I have a moment of your time, please?"

They looked up to see a student with mouse-brown hair and wardrobe to match, clutching a sky-blue clipboard. Max groaned inwardly. A fucking survey or petition or some crap.

"Um, I'm with the Student Ethics for Pets Association..."

Of course it was SEPA. They infested the campus year-round, but they were always out in full force when there was a pet-related event, like the mandatory testing or the annual Pet Festival.

"I'm not interested," said Max. He agreed with the ethical treatment of pets, obviously, and if that was what SEPA was about, he'd be all for it. But they weren't just against mistreatment of pets, they were against pets entirely, even going so far as to claim that some pets were humans who had been unfairly forced into pet facilities.

"Most pet owners mean well, but they don't know the realities of the cruel tactics facilities use to train pets," she said, trying to push a pamphlet at Max. "Dangerous drug cocktails that result in intelligence and memory loss, brainwashing devices to ensure compliance, restraints that cause permanent joint damage..."

Max couldn't help his blood starting to boil. "I don't know where you think I got my pet from, but it wasn't some cheap pet mill in the slums that tortures pets. Scout lives better than I do. Does it look mistreated to you?"

"That's not the only problem with pet ownership. There's also the mandatory pet tests. How do we know that people aren't getting caught up in the inhumane pet treatments due to a flawed test?"

"Yeah, right. The pet test is super easy to pass if you're not a pet." Down by his feet, Scout was pressing against his legs, clearly stressed and whimpering. If this kept up, he'd have to Tag Scout, and he hated to do it. "For someone who cares about pet ethics, you sure don't care that you're upsetting my pet."

"All I'm saying is --"

"All I'm saying is get the hell out of here with your propaganda and leave me alone."

"Fine, I can take a hint," she said, turning on her heel and flouncing away.

Max scowled after her. SEPA was such a ridiculous organization. They would try to reel students in with reasonable-sounding arguments about saving abused pets and then start with their radical bullshit. It happened to gullible students all the time, and they'd go and look like idiots chaining themselves to pet training facilities and showrooms. "Friggin' ridiculous," he said, looking over at Nathan, who was watching the girl leave. "Nathan?"

"Huh? What'd you say?"

"Nathan, you don't actually believe any of that, do you?"

"What, SEPA stuff? Nah, not really," said Nathan, taking a long drink of his soda. "But don't you ever think about it?"

"Think about what?"

"What if the test is wrong sometimes? What if actual people get carted away to some pet facility and treated like a pet?" he said. "Wasn't there that girl who got taken from here a couple years back...?"

"Oh yeah, Victoria... Victoria what's-her-face. Her dad owned some tech startup, right, and it tanked after his daughter turned out to be a pet. That's gotta be super embarrassing for her family."

"Yeah, but... what if it's actually wrong sometimes?"

"You're not seriously worried that you're gonna fail the pet test, are you?" Max laughed. "C'mon, that doesn't happen. That pet probably knew deep down what it was. It was just pretending to be human 'cause it was afraid of getting caught. That's why they need the training and stuff, right?"

"I guess," said Nathan.

"Scout failed its test when it was my age, too," he said. "But, like, it was obviously failing out of college, getting super stressed all the time, crying in class... because it's hard for pets to pretend to be human. Don't you think the other way would be messed up, too, if we forced pets to just pretend to be human forever?"

"Yeah, that would be pretty messed up. They wouldn't be happy like that. I just don't like having to take this stupid test every year."

"Only a couple more years for us and we'll be done with it." Max's phone alarm went off. "Oh damn, we'd better get going if we're going to make it to the test on time. I don't wanna have to take the makeup test." They stood up, but Scout remained on the ground, curled up into a ball and whining. "Scout?"

"Is it okay?"

"It's upset 'cause of that crazy girl from SEPA. You can go on ahead, I've gotta get Scout calmed down," he said.

"Alright. Good luck on the test."

"Yeah, you too," he said, as though they needed it. He crouched down to eye level with his pet. "Hey, Scout, what's the matter?"

Scout flinched, shrinking away from Max. That was really strange. He hadn't acted like that with anyone but Max's dad.

"You gotta relax, boy. It's okay. I'm not gonna let some SEPA person liberate you or whatever," he said. "They let pets in the test room, but only if you can be calm. If you can't calm down, I'll have to Tag you."

Max should've know that would only upset Scout more. Scout backed away as best as it could, pulling at the leash, starting to actually cry. Shit. He couldn't leave Scout at the pet lounge like this, either. He didn't have a choice.

"All right, then, Scout, kneel."

Scout shook its head rapidly. "No," it said, almost too quietly to hear.

"C'mon, don't be like that. This is for your own good. Kneel."

It knelt down in front of Max, still teary and whimpering, as Max fished a Tag out of his bag. They were little disposable things that you clipped to a pet's neck that made them real quiet and docile for a few hours, perfect for calming agitated pets. They were also good for situations like vet visits and long flights, since it made the pet unable to form clear memories. Max bet the SEPA girl thought Tags were abusive, too, even though they were literally to help pets not be traumatized. Max normally tried to avoid Tagging Scout much, since he liked his pet to be active and happy.

Scout shut its eyes and bent over slightly so that Max could attach the Tag, a forlorn look on its face as he pressed the little disc just over its spine. "There you go, boy. See, that's not so bad, is it?" He pet Scout gently as the Tag's effects kicked in, its expression going glassy and vacant, a dazed smile replacing its earlier distress. "C'mon, we gotta get going or we're going to be late."

Max was glad he had resorted to Tagging Scout when the pet curled up safely under his feet in the testing room. It wasn't that Max was nervous about the pet test, but it was boring as hell, and having Scout there helped him focus.

A big portion of it was just a bunch of bullshit psychological questions, which Max breezed through without thinking about them. Then there were questions about current events, word puzzles, a bunch of really weird abstract stuff... but obviously Max was human, so he was sure that his answers must be the right ones. He'd definitely know if he were a pet.

Finally, the test was over, and the entire auditorium of people had to be held there while the tests were scored electronically, so that they could take any pets aside. Max whipped out his phone and fully absorbed himself in his feeds.

"Mr. Parkington."

"Huh?" He looked up to see the test proctor standing by his desk. "Hey, yeah, what's up? Was there a problem with my test or something?"

"Could you come with us, please?" The proctor gestured at the exit door.

"What...?" No, it couldn't be. He couldn't have failed. There was probably some kind of mistake with his form or the grading machine. "Is there a problem?"

"There's no problem," she said curtly. "We just need you to come with us to discuss your test."

Max glanced around the auditorium. Everyone was staring at him, and not in the way he preferred. Well, no wonder. The stupid goddamn proctor was making it sound like he failed his pet test, in front of half the campus. He'd never live this down. "So was my test form unreadable or something...?" he said, hoping to salvage the situation.

She was implacable. "You need to come with us, Mr. Parkington."

He groaned, fighting down the urge to cause an even bigger scene. The people around him were already chattering about it. His parents were going to be absolutely furious about the rumors that would fly, as though it were his fault. They'd sue the school, no doubt, but by then it'd be too late. Goddamn it.

"Fine, let's get this over with. C'mon, Scout." He chucked his phone into his bag and picked it up, tugging Scout's leash. It seemed nervous, resisting a bit, even though there was no way the Tag could've worn off yet, but it followed Max out of the room just the same. They were led out of the auditorium and into a small side office, where there were a couple of cops from the Federal Pet Agency waiting, the ones who had supervised the test taking.

"We have good news for you, Mr. Parkington," said the proctor, taking up a seat behind a metal desk.

"Good news? What kind of good news could --"

"Your pet test returned positive."

"What? That's it? You humiliated me in front of everyone to tell me that I passed? No shit, of course I'm a person."

The two agents glanced at each other.

"No, Mr. Parkington, I don't think you understand. I mean that we have positively identified you as a pet. You will no longer be required to act as a human, and your treatments can start today." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Isn't that good news?"

"...What?" Max felt as though the floor was dropping out from under him. "What the hell? What are you even talking about?"

"Your treatment can start right away, so if you'll just go with these agents --"

"What the fuck?!" he said, no longer caring about making a scene. Scout whimpered at his feet. "What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a prank? Is this some kind of viral stunt? Because I will definitely sue you to have the video taken down."

"It isn't a prank, and there is no video recording. Your test results are very clear cut."

"The hell they are! I've taken my test every year and I've never failed."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken about that."

"What do you mean by that?"

The proctor sighed and slapped a thick manila envelope onto the desk. "Your previous tests -- your real ones. Each one clearly showing that you are a pet."

"That's impossible! Then why --"

"There's a little known federal program that allows test results to be... deferred."

Max's stomach clenched. "Deferred?"

"It's an expensive option, and not widely publicized, but it allows families to suppress undesirable results for a year, while they get things in order," she said. "In your case, your family spent a great deal of money for seven years to delay the inevitable. However, this year they did not enroll in the program, so this is your final test result."

"No. No, that's not -- you're lying! You're making that up. There's no way. There's no way I failed any pet test, or that my parents paid money to cover it up. No way."

"It's all right," she said in a sickeningly condescending tone. "I know this must be very confusing, and that you've obviously been suffering without your necessary treatment for so long..."

"I'm not suffering!" He slammed his hands on the desk. The agents stepped closer, but the proctor was unfazed.

"Your grades in everything but your fashion drawing classes are --"

"I am not suffering because I'm bad at the business classes my dad forced on me!" Burning with frustration, humiliation, and a growing ember of dread, Max pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Actually, I'm going to call my dad right now. He'll put an end to this."

He was somewhat surprised that no one in the room stopped him from using his phone, until he turned it on and found no signal. "What the -- c'mon, you stupid thing --"

"Your phone service has been terminated," the proctor said. "Your parents have already been contacted by our team. They have been aware of this possibility and have made prior arrangements for you."

"No." Max's throat felt dry and his arms heavy as he dropped the phone. "There's no way. Even my asshole dad wouldn't let me be taken as a pet. I'm the heir --"

Wait.

The realization hit Max with the force of a semi-truck. The heir to Parkington Corporation. With Max out of the way, no longer a person, that heir would be --

His brother. His golden brother Robbie who could never do wrong. If they suffered the temporary humiliation of letting Max be hauled away as a pet, Robbie would be their only child. It wasn't just a matter of writing Max out of the will -- they wanted their un-favorite son to be out of the picture permanently.

Would they really go that far? The serious-looking proctors and agents in the room were a strong indication that they would.

And for the first time, Max felt true fear. This might not be a prank or a misunderstanding or an inconvenience. He might not be able to call his lawyers or his family to get him out of trouble. Even if it was a mistake, if he let them get their hands on him and process him as a pet... could you even come back from that? Wouldn't it be too late?

"I'm not going to let you take me anywhere," he said, inching towards the door. "I'll go borrow a phone and call my lawyer."

One of the agents immediately moved to block the door, unsurprisingly, as the proctor stood up. "As I was saying, your parents were aware of this possibility and have made prior arrangements for you."

"What arrangements?"

"You're going to be sent to the finest pet treatment facility on the Eastern seaboard, one that produces only high-end luxury pets. You're very fortunate."

Max swallowed hard. That sounded like the facility where they had purchased Scout for him. The thought of going through the same treatment as Scout...

That's when he realized that Scout was no longer at his feet. Instead, it was kneeling in front of one of the agents, having its head scratched. "Aww, who's a good boy?" he said. "It's you! Yes, you are..."

"Hey, Scout, what are you doing? Get away from him!"

Scout didn't even respond to him.

"Don't worry about Scout. We're going to send it to the same facility where we're sending you, for retraining and rehoming. It's a very good pet and I'm sure it'll find an excellent new home."

Scout had been custom trained to Max's childhood tastes. They had grown up together, inseparable. And now Scout was going to have its memories of him wiped, ready to be sent to a new owner...

And he was next.

"Scout. Scout, c'mon," Max pleaded, desperation in his voice. "You're not going with them. You're going with me. C'mon, Scout."

Scout had always been the most docile and agreeable of pets, always listening to Max, following at his heels and coming at his beck and call. And yet now it steadfastly ignored Max as though he were not there.

"Scout!" Max didn't want to go near the agents, so he stood a few feet away from his pet. "Scout, listen!"

Finally, Scout turned and looked at him. It opened its mouth, then closed it again. Finally, it smiled. It wasn't the vacant smile from being Tagged or the excited smile when they went out together or the sleepy smile it had going to bed at night. No, this smile seemed almost... malicious.

"I hope we can play together when you've been trained," Scout said.

Max felt the world spinning around him. Even his pet thought he was a pet. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't.

An agent was approaching him in his daze. "Now be a good boy and come with us."

"No!" He jerked away from the agent's hand. He had to get out of here. He couldn't let them take him. He had to escape, find someone who understood. Maybe that crazy girl from SEPA. Maybe...

"You'll feel so much better once you've been treated," said the agent on the other side of him. "Don't resist."

"Like hell!" Max pulled his arm free of the agent's grasp and tried to barge between them, only to be met with sturdy arms knocking him backwards. While physically fit, he was no fighter and no match for two highly trained federal agents. In a minute he was been forced to his knees with his arms pinned behind his back, restrained. "Let me go!" he screamed as he thrashed. "Let me go right now!"

"The pet is resisting. It'll need to be Tagged," said one agent to the other, who nodded and pulled out an all-too-familiar flat black disc.

"No! No, don't! It's illegal to Tag a person!" said Max, knowing it was futile.

"This is for your own good." One agent held him down as the other attached the tag. He could feel the cool plastic against his skin and the bite of small needles piercing his skin, a cool and numb sensation as the Tag took hold.

The world blurred around him as a kind of dazed drowsiness took hold of his body. "No... it's not..." he slurred.

His head lolled to the side as the agents hauled him up between them, keeping a firm grip on his arms. A distant part of him still wanted to put up a fight, but he felt so far away... so out of it... so strangely calm and peaceful. He blinked, and he was already out in the hallway. The agents were shooing away the students who tried to crowd around them and shove phones in his face. This was going to be all over social media. His parents would be so mad...

...no, they wouldn't. They knew this was going to happen. There was no one coming to rescue him, not even his dad's money. Max tipped his head forward and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid the crowd's gaze.

"Maxie? Maxie, what the hell? What the hell, man?" said a familiar loud voice.

"Nathan...?" He could just pick out Nathan's loud jacket in the crowd. "Help..." he said feebly. "I'm not a pet... tell them..."

"Holy shit." Nathan was rooted to the spot. He didn't seem to be moving to help Max at all as he was dragged away.

"Nathan...!"

Nathan pulled out his phone, took a picture, and then disappeared into the crowd.

The agents dragged him through the double glass doors of the auditorium to a black van waiting in the parking lot. Max couldn't find it in him to put up any resistance as he was loaded into the back seat and the doors were closed and locked. His head hit the window as he looked out at his college campus for possibly the last time.

It felt so unreal. It still felt like something that couldn't possibly be happening to him.

Would he really be turned into a pet...?

No... they'd figure out he was a person before it was too late. They had to.

#whump #whump writing #pet whump #dehumanization #brainwashing #drugging #kidnapping #dystopia

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