#sometimes you just gotta bite tear chew and sometimes you miss the sleeve and take a chunk of flesh out of your boyfriend

[vt-scribbles]

There were casualties in the bedroom last night

[brianamorganbooks]

The Tricker-Treater

This is a teaser of the titular story from my upcoming horror collection. You can learn more about the project and help me bring it to life here!

Moira kicked spilled candy corn off her front step. The remnants of another weeknight massacre. This time, all in the name of a holiday.

She’d stopped keeping track of the holidays.

They meant nothing, after all. Just another day full of shit, another day without Norman in it. What was the point?

She looked over at the garden gnome that Norman had polished every St. Patrick’s Day. The ghost of an old conversation floated back to her as she picked it up from where the kids had knocked it over.

Moira closed her eyes and savored the memory.

“It’s a gnome, Norm. Not a leprechaun. It’s not his holiday.”

“I know that! But don’t you think what matters is doing it?”

In the present, Moira sighed. This St. Patrick’s Day, she’d grab a rag and polish the years of grime away. So far, she hadn’t had the strength.

It was the day before Halloween. She’d picked up trash all week, and if those damn kids tried their tricks tonight, she’d give them more than treats.

Movement on the sidewalk at the mailbox caught her eye. Riley stood there, all tousled blonde hair and sleepy brown eyes. His hand-me-down sweatshirt needed elbow patches. She’d see to that soon.

“Don’t stand there gawking at me. C’mon.” She waved him forward, but he looked at his shoes. She put her hands on her hips. “What’s the matter with you?”

“He’s coming here tonight to get you,” he said.

She squinted in the morning sun. “Who’s coming to get me?”

“The Tricker-Treater,” Riley said. “He’s coming here tonight. I made a deal with him.”

“What?” Riley never spoke in riddles. He wasn’t one to loiter at the end of her driveway either. “Peanut butter cookies inside. Tell me later.”

“No, he’ll be here later. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Moira frowned. “Stop listening to your brother. Come inside and have some cookies with me and we’ll go from there.”

Without waiting to see if he’d follow, Moira headed back into the house. She went straight to the kitchen. The storm door slammed shut not too long after, and Riley pulled up a chair at the kitchen table.

Moira carried the plate of cookies over to him. Up close, he looked like the same old Riley as always. All she saw was the haunted glint in his eyes he got from spending time with Taylor. Now school was back in, all he had was Taylor until their mother got home from work. Retail was hell, Moira remembered. When Riley’s mother got home, the last thing she’d want to do was scold Taylor for tormenting his little brother.

Norman would have scared Taylor shitless, given the chance. He would have protected Riley.

Norman had always been better with kids.

“Lots of trick-or-treaters coming here tomorrow,” Moira said. “So what makes yours so special? Why’s he coming here tonight?”

Riley froze with his hand halfway to a cookie. “Not trick-or-treater. Tricker-Treater.”

Moira shook her head. “I said that.”

“No, like… hang on.” He scooted the chair back from the table and dashed across the room to where the landline rested. There was a small pad of paper beside it. He snatched up the paper and a pen and ran back to the table. His brow furrowed in concentration. Sticking out his tongue, he leaned over the paper and spelled out the difference for her:

T-R-I-C-K-E-R

T-R-E-A-T-E-R

He set down the pen and waited for her to read his writing. Moira shook her head again. He didn’t know how to spell it.

“No ‘or,’” he said. “Tricker-Treater. He’s both.”

Something icy pricked the back of Moira’s neck. She brushed her fingers over the spot and found nothing. Her gaze drifted back to the paper.

“He’s both?”

“Mmhm.” Riley grabbed a cookie and took a bite. He devoured it, careful not to make eye contact with Moira. It was a sophisticated strategy for a seven-year-old.

Moira leaned on the table and stared at him. “Riley.”

He scooted his chair away. “I gotta use the potty.”

“Do you, or do you not want to talk to me?” she asked.

He stuffed another cookie in his mouth, and when he spoke, he sprayed crumbs everywhere. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“You mean the Tricker-Treater?”

“Yeah.” He choked on the cookie and coughed. Moira grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink. She patted him on the back and slid the glass to him.

Riley chugged the water and still couldn’t stop coughing. Moira took the plate of cookies from him, because no way in hell was he going to choke to death on her watch. Not if she could help it.

“You’d better head on home,” Moira said. “You’ll worry your mother sick.”

Riley scooted back from the table again. “Don’t call her. She doesn’t know.”

“She doesn’t know you’re here? Did you stay home from school, or did you skip?”

“I...”

His eyes darted to look over her shoulder. Moira spun around. Nothing there. When she turned back to him, he was heading for the front door.

“Riley!”

“I messed up, I messed up!”

She lunged for his sleeve and missed. He was through the front door and across the yard before she had time to try again. Damn it. What was wrong with that boy? He’d been in no hurry minutes before with a plate of cookies in front of him. The minute she’d mentioned his mother though…

Moira sighed and leaned against the door frame. Something was off with Riley, and she wasn’t going to let him out of her sight until she got to the bottom of it.

When he returned a few minutes later, Moira stood between him and the front door. “Riley, please. Tell me what’s going on.”

He chewed his bottom lip. “I don’t wanna. I’m scared. It never goes well.”

“What do you mean, ‘it never goes well’?”

“Every time I tell you, it… I messed up,” he repeated.

Moira sighed. She was getting nowhere fast. Whatever he had on his mind, it upset him so much he wasn’t making sense. If she couldn’t get him to focus, she would never figure out what was going on. And, seeing as how it involved her…

“Riley.” Moira grabbed his shoulders and held him there, stooping to look into his eyes. “Whatever you think is going to happen, I can face it better if you tell me about it, okay?”

His lower lip quivered. “Even if it’s bad?”

“Even if it’s bad.”

Riley gulped. “The Tricker-Treater is gonna stop by your house tonight. You gotta meet with him and do what he says, or else.”

Moira quirked an eyebrow at him. “Or else?”

He hesitated. “Like I said, I’ve told you about him before, and he… he always makes sure to catch you. Even if you run away, he finds you and he…” Riley’s voice trailed off into a sob. Shiny, fat tears bubbled over his lashes and rolled down his face. Moira pulled him against her and wrapped her arms around him.

Shit, she hadn’t meant to make him cry. Jesus Christ, that was the last thing she wanted.

Moira’s chest tightened. “It’ll be okay, Riley. We’ll figure it out together, all right?”

Riley pulled away from her. He shook his head. “I dunno.”

“I’m older and wiser. Humor me, huh?”

He sniffed and wiped his nose. Moira debated getting a tissue for him, but it was too late—he was already rubbing the snot with his sleeve. As perceptive as the kid could be, he was still a kid, and he was gross.

Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like to have children. Sometimes she watched Riley and was glad that time had passed her.

“You should run home now,” Moira said again. “Even if you did skip school, your mom won’t be angry as long as you’re safe.”

His gaze jumped over her shoulder again. She waited for him to refocus. He’d come there in such a hurry, and now he kept drifting away. The urgency had waned. That was good.

“Are you feeling all right?”

Riley nodded. “I’m… a little better now.”

“No more getting upset over the Tricker-Treater, okay?”

Hesitation, then another nod. A slow exhale. “Okay.”

“You want a few cookies to take home? You can share them with Tyler.”

Riley wrinkled his nose at the mention of his brother. “He doesn’t deserve cookies.”

“I suppose he doesn’t.”

Moira patted him on the head and went back into the kitchen. She eyed the half-empty glass in a pool of condensation, the cookie crumbs Riley had sprayed on the table. She looked back at Riley, still standing where she’d left him, and her chest ached. She flattened a hand against her collarbone.

She and Norman could’ve tried a little longer.

“Riley?”

His head jerked up. “Huh?”

“You still want those cookies?”

“Um… no thanks.” He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his sweater again. “I’ve never stayed this late before. I don’t wanna see him.”

The poor kid was talking in circles again. Better send him off to someone much more qualified.

Moira propped a hand on her hip. “Go on, get outta here before I call your mom. And be careful tomorrow.”

Riley cast a long look at her before putting his hand on the doorknob. That was all it took? No fight? No begging her for cookies, saying he had changed his mind?

She should have insisted he take some.

If he’d still demanded some, that would have been proof things were normal.

Instead, Moira frowned at the back of his head as he walked out and left the door open.

* * *

Moira tossed popcorn into her mouth and watched Bill Murray fail to woo Andie MacDowell. There was no reason for the network to broadcast Groundhog Day on October 30, but she wasn’t complaining. It had been one of Norman’s favorite movies. They’d gone to see it in theaters the day it came out, which seemed so long ago now.

Without Norman, time dragged on. How had it only been a year since his death?

Watching a movie she’d seen more than a dozen times soothed her ragged nerves. That the movie was itself a perpetual, familiar cycle was not lost on her. In fact, that was a large part of Groundhog Day’s charm—especially tonight, when there was so much on her mind.

Riley’s behavior had left her shaken and confused. Sure, he was a kid, but he’d always been perceptive, and she trusted what he said. He usually meant what he said. At that age, it was rare for children to have ulterior motives. Whatever Riley thought was going to happen to her, it was worth considering.

The Tricker-Treater was coming to get her tonight.

Moira’s gaze jumped to the glow of the streetlight that permeated her closed blinds. Outside, the air was cold and crisp. Inside, she was cozy.

She drew the knitted afghan tighter around her midsection. Andie had slapped Bill. Normally, the moment made Moira laugh. Normally, she wasn’t wound up like a coiled snake.

The chiming of her doorbell made her jump out of her skin. She jostled the bowl in her lap, spilling popcorn everywhere.

Why was she so jumpy? It was likely Riley and his mother, coming to check on her after their talk. Riley’s mom Adriane was nice—she apologized for Riley with baked goods and wine. When she wasn’t working, she tried to come over for tea and pour out her soul to Moira.

In another life, they could have been mother and daughter.

In another life, Norman might still be alive.

Another ache struck Moira’s chest. The doorbell chimed again, demanding her attention.

She set the bowl aside and stood. Whoever it was, they were insistent. She doubted they’d go away if she ignored them.

Probably some damn kids, anyway. God willing, they wouldn’t egg her when she opened the door—for their sakes as well as hers.

She didn’t feel forgiving.

Moira crept over to the door and pulled back the curtain on the window beside the door. She had to see who had come knocking.

There was no one there.

Puzzled, she let the curtain drop and stood on tiptoe to look through the peephole.

No one.

Moira stepped back. She flattened a hand against her chest.

The doorbell chimed again.

Icy dread stuck its fingers down the back of Moira’s shirt. Her hand settled on the cold metal doorknob. After a breath, she twisted it and pulled the front door open.

And gasped.

The man—if the thing could even be called a man—stood at least seven or eight feet tall. It had to double over to fit under the awning of her porch. Pale red skin stretched tight over pointed features, most notably a bear skull. At least, she thought it was a bear skull. Norman would have known for sure. Norman always—

Coal-black eyes glittered at her as the thing bared its teeth—razor-sharp—in some semblance of a smile.

It wore nothing but a top hat, which it tipped before it spoke.

“I hope you were expecting me.”

His voice was low and smooth, like a jazz singer’s, and she shivered. Moira supposed she should have fainted or had a heart attack by then, but once he spoke, all her fear disappeared. It was like he had swallowed it up with his words.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Riley didn’t tell you? I’m the Tricker-Treater. Would you mind if I came in?”

Moira froze with her hand still on the doorknob. What was she supposed to do? The Tricker-Treater offered the illusion of a choice. Was it merely that—an illusion—or would he let her decide how the evening would progress?

Moira let her gaze wander over the creature’s form again. He had the gaunt, emaciated look of a feral dog, and the tightness in her chest only tightened even further.

Nothing about him made her think he’d give her any choice.

“C-come in,” Moira said.

The Tricker-Treater kept his eyes locked on her as he stepped over the threshold and into the house. Moira swore he brought the smell of decay inside with him, but a moment later, it was gone.

Rotting pumpkins, she thought. That was the smell.

Moira gestured for him to sit on the couch. Eldritch horror or not, he was a guest.

The Tricker-Treater sat, bones creaking and popping as he did so. Moira tried her damnedest not to wince at the noises.

She sat in Norman’s favorite armchair and waited for the Tricker-Treater to speak.

“Has Riley… told you all about me?” he asked.

Moira paused. “How do you know Riley?”

“We made a deal. He’s a special child, isn’t he? Perceptive. Tenacious.” The Tricker-Treater flashed her another chilling smile. “Fragile.”

The blood dropped out of Moira’s face. “What are you getting at?”

The Tricker-Treater steepled his long, bony fingers. “It would be a shame if any danger were to befall Riley. If you could prevent such a tragedy, wouldn’t you want to, no matter what the cost?”

Moira rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. “Don’t you dare hurt him.”

“We made a deal,” the Tricker-Treater repeated. “He asked for money so his mother could be around more often. I told him I could give him anything he wanted—such as money—for a price.”

The Tricker-Treater’s eyes made Moira’s head swim. She broke eye contact. “So that’s why you’re here. You’re going to kill me.”

She should have known this was how she would die. Norman, with all his superstitions and wonder of the paranormal, had died of a stroke in the kitchen. A nice, normal death. Meanwhile, here she was, whisked away by a monster for the sake of a child’s wish.

“Not quite,” the Tricker-Treater said. “Well, only if I must.”

Moira’s head snapped up, and she met his gaze again, even though it dizzied her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Tricker-Treater tapped his claws against the coffee table. Click, click, click. “If you play by the rules, everything will be all right.”

The sinking feeling in Moira’s gut returned. “What rules?”

The Tricker-Treater’s unnerving smile returned too. “Every game has rules, Moira. Do you want to play?”

Her stomach had dropped to her ass, and she didn’t think it would resurface anytime soon. Whoever this man—or creature—was, he wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted from her.

“What happens if I don’t want to play the game?” she asked.

“You lose.”

“And what happens if I lose?”

“Then Taylor wins.” The Tricker-Treater’s smile tore across his face. “And I take you away forever.”

Moira’s throat constricted. So he did want to kill her. Even if he acted like she had a choice, she didn’t.

Riley had already chosen for her. He had sealed her fate.

But what did Taylor have to do with it?

“Taylor?” she asked.

“To fulfill Riley’s deal, I must receive a sacrifice. He had to present me with someone he loves and someone he hates to play the game. I balance the scales. The loser dies.”

Jesus Christ, she thought, what had Riley done?

“He’s too young to make a deal like that,” she said. “You’re taking advantage of him.”

“I don’t discriminate,” he said. “A wish is a wish, and I must grant it. You must play the game, or die. These are my conditions.”

“What if Taylor and I both refuse? You only need to kill one of us, right? And you seem reasonable. You wouldn’t kill us to prove a point.”

“No.” The Tricker-Treater’s smile twisted into something darker, more feral. Moira wanted to scream, but panic kept her gaze fixed on his face. “In the case of two refusals, I take the wish-maker instead.”

Moira gulped. “You’d kill Riley.”

“Kill is such a boring word for what I do, but yes. Riley would become the sacrifice.” He steepled his fingers again. “But of course, you always have a choice.”

Did he think she’d let Riley die? She must have been Riley’s “someone he loves,” which meant the Tricker-Treater had to know she loved him too. She couldn’t damn him.

Only one thing to do.

“I’ll play,” Moira said.

“Wonderful. Let’s go.”

The Tricker-Treater snapped his fingers, Moira felt a tug, and the whole world went dark.

* * *

The reek of iron pulled Moira from unconsciousness. Her eyelids snapped open, pupils unfocused as they sought the light. Only a spare bulb hung overhead, struggling through the shadows. A familiar teenage form swam into view, fastened to a chair by ropes.

Taylor.

A shadow skulked off to Taylor’s left, and Moira’s gaze floated over to it. A long, lanky figure broke from the blackness and formed a solid shape. Sharp teeth glittered in the light as the creature grinned.

The Tricker-Treater.

He snapped his fingers again, and the lightbulb shattered. Moira went to shield her face from the exploding glass, but ropes restrained her. The Tricker-Treater had tied her down too.

A brilliant light enveloped the room, blinding Moira for a minute. The light faded to a ball that hovered over the Tricker-Treater’s head. It was small, but somehow bright enough for her to make out everything in the room, including Taylor.

She looked back at the boy. Blood dripped from ragged scratches in his cheek and stained the front of his shirt. That must have been the source of the iron smell—Taylor’s blood.

Moira looked to the Tricker-Treater for an explanation.

“He struggled,” he said, “so I had to be rough. But he’s learned his lesson. Haven’t you, Taylor?”

Taylor groaned and twisted against the ropes. The Tricker-Treater clicked his tongue and wagged a finger at Taylor. He froze.

“Think it’s time for me to explain the rules of the game to you both,” the Tricker-Treater said. “But no cheating. Is that understood?”

Moira still didn’t know what was going on, but she nodded nonetheless. Whatever game he had in mind, she had to win, for Riley’s sake.

She didn’t know what would happen to Taylor, except that he might die. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Across the room, Taylor grunted.

The Tricker-Treater gave a wet, hacking cough. Moira watched it rattle his prominent ribcage. Had he not been so frightening, she might have worried for him. As it was, she wished the cough had been worse.

The Tricker-Treater pulled another chair away from the table. It scraped across the floor with a sound that bit Moira’s eardrums. She flinched.

He lowered his long body into the chair and removed his hat, exposing his shiny, red baldness.

“I will now explain the rules, and I will not repeat myself. You both must pay attention if you want to win.”

“I don’t give a shit about winning,” said Taylor. “I don’t even want to play. I don’t give a shit about Riley.”

A muscle jerked in Moira’s jaw. What an asshole. Did this kid understand what he was saying?

“That’s not what you said to me earlier,” the Tricker-Treater said. “You agreed to play the game because you wanted him to live.”

Moira almost didn’t believe it, but the Tricker-Treater had no motive to lie.

The Tricker-Treater stretched a hand toward Taylor, and Taylor’s eyes widened. The Tricker-Treater’s razor claws glittered in the light.

“You’ll play,” he said, “or Riley dies.”

Taylor shut his eyes. “Okay, okay, but please don’t hurt me.”

“It isn’t me you should worry about.”

Moira swallowed a curse. As much as she hated to cooperate with this… thing, it seemed like they had no choice. If she didn’t play the Tricker-Treater’s game, Riley would die. She wouldn’t let that happen.

"What do I have to do?" she asked.

The Tricker-Treater's smile widened. Moira withheld a shiver. Taylor flattened himself against the back of the chair, trying to get as far away as possible.

"Once I untie you both," the Tricker-Treater said, putting his hat back on, "you'll have fifteen minutes to choose a weapon and determine the sacrifice."

Moira frowned. "Kill each other?"

"So vulgar," he replied.

"I don't want to kill an old lady," Taylor said.

Like he even could if he wanted to, Moira thought. In her own way, she agreed—she didn't want to kill him, and she didn't want to die.

Riley couldn't die, either. She'd do what she could, whatever she had to. It wasn't a choice.

"Where are the weapons?" Moira asked.

Taylor gaped at her. "We don't have to do this!"

“I detest idle chatter,” the Tricker-Treater said. “Such a waste of precious time.”

Moira stiffened at his words. Did that mean they’d started? Were they supposed to get going? Why was she still tied up, then? The Tricker-Treater had said—

A click of his fingers and her bindings dissolved. Fuck, she had to get moving. She liked the word fuck, although Norman never had, and the way his face used to scrunch up when she said it to him—

“Moira,” the Tricker-Treater warned. “You don’t have time for reminiscing.”

She chose not to dwell on the discomfort of having him inside her mind in favor of finding a weapon.

But where the fuck were they?

Taylor was squealing something she didn’t care to listen to because she didn’t care more than for any other reason. She didn’t want to kill him but they would soon be out of time, and if she didn’t do anything—whether he killed her or not—Riley was in danger.

Moira dragged herself out of the chair and looked around the room. It was still difficult to see, with the only lighting coming from the flames conjured by the Tricker-Treater, but they were surrounded by several different boxes of all shapes and sizes.

Taylor leaped up from his chair and dove headfirst into the box behind him, digging like a dumpster-diver in search of castoff treasures. Shit, she had to get a move on or he’d kill her with whatever he found.

Moira started with a box on her left, plain cardboard on the outside, unassuming enough. As she dug through a pile of moth-eaten clothes, the sharp edge of something bit the palm of her hand. She cried out. Upon further, much more hesitant, inspection, she discovered the source of the wound—a Japanese samurai sword.

That’s a katana, Norm corrected in her head.

Moira didn’t have time to smile. She wrapped her fingers around the base of the sword and pulled—

Right as Taylor came sprinting toward her with a hatchet in his hands. The metal glinted as he brought it down, right as Moria darted out of the way.

“Jesus, Taylor!”

“Stand still!”

He lifted the hatchet and swung it down again, with Moira only narrowly dodging it this time. She was close enough to hear the whoosh of the blade as it came down past her face. As she ducked to the side, so did Taylor. His third hit struck her shoulder. White-hot flames lit Moria’s muscle fibers and leaked pain down her arm. Warm blood dripped off her elbow.

Jesus fuck, that hurt.

Movement caught the corner of her eye and she whirled around, still clutching her injured shoulder. Taylor had raised the hatchet again. She had to get out of his way.

Still carrying the sword, Moira feinted left. Taylor took the bait and swung. She moved right, raised the sword, hesitated—

The light went out. Moira couldn’t see one inch in front of her face. Distantly, the Tricker-Treater’s claws clicked against a hard surface. Dragged against it, more like.

Moira shivered.

Mooooiiiiraaaaaaaaa…

She jabbed with the sword, wincing as the blade bounced off the wall. She was almost relieved that she hadn't hit Taylor.

Something rough brushed her calf. She jerked back, swallowing a cry. Something metal clattered to the ground, and Taylor yelped.

"Don't move, Taylor."

"Are w-we out of time?" As brave and seemingly bloodthirsty as he'd been moments before, there was no denying the way his voice shook. Hatchet or not, he was only a kid. He had his whole life ahead of him.

And she'd tried to kill him.

Moira let go of the katana. It, too, clattered to the floor. "What's up with turning the lights off, huh? Not fucked up enough as it is?"

"I assumed it would be easier for you to kill him with the lights off," the Tricker-Treater said. "That way, you wouldn't have to see him."

"Whose side are you on?" Taylor countered. His voice had an edge to it that scared her, sharpened by fear into pointed rage. It made him sound dangerous.

She didn't think he had the strength to kill her, but fear could drive someone to do the unthinkable.

And she'd let go of her weapon.

"I believe in leveling the playing field," the Tricker-Treater said. "Moira is, shall we say, more experienced in life, and Taylor has more energy. We correct this discrepancy with darkness."

Moira swallowed. In theory, everything he was saying made sense. But all she could think about was that there must be something she’d overlooked—something the Tricker-Treater had overlooked. In other words, a loophole.

Some way to save Riley without having to kill his brother.

She had to pick up the katana again. Without it, she was powerless. And, there was still a chance that Taylor would rediscover his bravado, would run toward her again with the hatchet raised, would bring it down and—

The Tricker-Treater chuckled in the gloom, and Moira knew he’d been inside her head again. Shit, that was… inconvenient, to say the least. How could she try to find a loophole if he was listening in on everything she thought?

Get the fuck out of my head, she thought.

Again, the Tricker-Treater chuckled. “Manners, Moira. But… I would be remiss not to heed your request, as vulgar as it might have been phrased. All you had to do was ask.”

Moira gaped at him in the darkness—or, at least, she gaped in what she assumed was his direction. It was still impossible to see anything, and though the Tricker-Treater had claimed he was just leveling the playing field, Moira couldn’t understand how this was supposed to help her.

Distantly, Taylor whimpered. Could he be afraid of the dark?

“Please,” he said. “Turn on the lights.”

The Tricker-Treater’s claws clicked together as he contemplated Taylor’s request. “Moira, what do you think?”

What did she think? She thought this whole twisted game was a goddamn mess. She thought it was ludicrous that this… demon expected her to kill a child, or the child to kill her. She thought she would do almost anything to save Riley because she loved him, but she wasn’t sure she could do this.

Most of all, Moira thought she had already lost. She had to change her mind somehow, or else she really would. Find the loophole, she reminded herself. There had to be an angle she hadn’t yet considered.

Moira shuffled her feet. The point of the katana bit into her shin and she fought the urge to cry out. Warm liquid seeped from the wound—not too much, but not too little to escape her notice. The darkness heightened everything. Tentatively, she bent over and fumbled around for the handle, praying her fingers wouldn’t graze the blade. At last, they closed around fabric—the binding on the handle—and she pulled it up with both hands as she rose to a standing position.

“Moira,” the Tricker-Treater prompted again. And… the idea came to her.

If she could kill the Tricker-Treater, she could end the game. She’d win, without killing Taylor, and Riley would be safe.

Of course, she knew next to nothing about the Tricker-Treater’s fortitude, although he seemed like a formidable foe. She had to give it a shot. Anything was better than plunging the blade into Taylor.

“Turn on the lights,” Moira answered.

She tightened her grip on the blade and widened her stance to give her more stability. Sweat trickled down the side of her neck. Her heart beat so loudly it threatened to deafen her, but she stayed grounded. She didn’t have a choice.

The Tricker-Treater snapped his fingers, and the lights flickered on again. Moira coordinated her attack with the fluorescent flash. She ran full speed, katana thrust forward like a jousting lance. Taylor gasped, eyes widening in horror—until Moira jabbed the sword into the Tricker-Treater’s gut.

“Shit!” Taylor yelled.

The Tricker-Treater didn’t flinch. He didn’t scream, nor did he give any other indication that he had been struck. Instead, he wrapped his clawed fingers around the blade and looked right at Moira. The twisted grin he produced was the worst thing she’d ever seen.

“Well, now. Isn’t this exciting?”

Moira trembled, but she didn’t let go of the handle. If she did, she was afraid he’d find a way to turn the blade on her. Taylor crept closer to the scene, face ashen. He was trembling, too, even as he reached out to take the sword from Moira.

She shook her head vehemently. “You’re not responsible for this. Taylor, if anything happens—”

“It isn’t polite to speak about others as though they aren’t there,” the Tricker-Treater chimed in. He was still holding onto the blade, still the picture of tranquility even as the sword stuck out of his stomach and black blood dripped from the wound onto the floor. “I wonder if you two have forgotten your manners.”

“Fuck you,” Taylor spat.

Moira had to agree, though she couldn’t find the words. All she could focus on was the blood, the way it poured from the Tricker-Treater’s stomach even though the wound was technically still sealed up, and—

The Tricker-Treater flexed his claws, and his grin widened. The blade slipped out of Moira’s hands.

“Taylor!” Moira shouted.

The blade shot backward out of the Tricker-Treater’s stomach and whirled around to point at Taylor. He reacted a second too late. Moira stared in horror as the black-bloodstained tip pushed into Taylor’s chest. He stiffened, limbs flying out, mouth open, eyes the size of galaxies—

And then, his body dropped. It made a sick thwack as it landed.

Moira turned her head and puked. When she turned back, the Tricker-Treater was hunched over, holding his hat in his hands. He had the decency not to grin.

“Oh, dear,” he said. “This is… less than ideal.”

If she weren’t so afraid, she would have smacked him. “‘Less than ideal’? A child is dead! You fucking killed him, you son of a bitch.”

“If I hadn’t, you would have.”

“I wouldn’t have,” she insisted. “You’ve been inside my head. You must have known I wouldn’t.”

“Hmph.” The Tricker-Treater twisted his hat in his hands. He was having trouble looking Moira in the eye. “Well, this does present a challenge.”

She wrangled the urge to strangle him. “What are you talking about?”

“The rules of the game were clear. To save Riley, there must be a sacrifice.” He paused, as though waiting for her to remember the rules. “One of you must kill the other.”

“But we can’t now. Taylor’s dead.” Realization dawned on Moira, eclipsing the fear. “You killed him. That’s the loophole.”

“So it would seem.” If he was upset about Moira’s admission of looking for a loophole, it didn’t show. If anything, he was so lost in contemplation he paid her no mind. She could have attacked him then. Taylor’s hatchet lay on the floor not far from his body. If she leaned forward a little—

But what would happen to Riley? If she killed the Tricker-Treater, would she forfeit the game? She couldn’t wager Riley’s life on a spur-of-the-moment choice.

Instead, she had to bide her time and see what the creature decided.

“Unfortunately,” he said. “Riley must perish.”

All the blood drained from Moira’s face. Like hell he must, she thought. “What are you talking about? I played your stupid game. Taylor… well, that means I won. Those were your rules, remember?”

“Alas, Moira, that isn’t the case.” The Tricker-Treater clicked his tongue. “Neither of you did as I asked, as was required of you, so there is no winner. And, as there’s no winner, Riley’s life is forfeit. I’m afraid those are the rules.”

Moira’s stomach roiled. There had to be another way. She had to save Riley somehow, otherwise, Taylor had died for nothing. She refused to lose Riley, refused to let his mother bury both her sons.

“Take me instead,” she pleaded.

The Tricker-Treater hesitated. “That wasn’t part of the deal. Your life is only forfeit should the other participant take it. As the other participant is dead, there is no reason for your life to end.”

His logic and politeness made her want to tear her hair out. “Taylor shouldn’t have died. I didn’t kill him. Doesn’t that change up your shitty rules somehow?”

Again, he hesitated. His face twisted up as though he were in pain. “I concede that Taylor’s departure was unnecessary, given the game’s objective. Reckless, even. However… there must be some punishment for you.” The Tricker-Treater looked pointedly at the hole in his gut. “You also broke the rules.”

“You never said I couldn’t attack you,” she argued.

His mouth twitched. “Fair enough. Hm… let’s do this. What do you think I should do to you, Moira? What sort of fate would be equitable?”

Moira’s tongue sat like lead in her mouth. How was she supposed to make such a strange decision? The question wasn’t one she’d planned for. He wasn’t in her head anymore, so she wondered if she could just throw something out there, something far from “fair,” in terms of extremity. Or, perhaps he already knew what he would do to her, and he was just playing another sick game?

“Tick-tock,” said the Tricker-Treater.

Moira swallowed. Hard. If Norm were here, he’d have the perfect idea. He was always so wise, her Norm, even when he was being silly. The last time they’d watched Groundhog Day together, he’d said—

Groundhog Day. Yes, that was the answer. It was the only way for her to atone, while still paying homage to her husband. And, it was the only way to make sure Riley’s mother got her son back—and got to keep Riley, too.

It wasn’t a fate Moira looked forward to, but it was a fate she accepted.

She gave the Tricker-Treater a watery smile. “Have you seen any Bill Murray movies?”

* * *

When Moira came to, she was covered in sweat. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, and birds chirped outside. Jesus. She felt like she’d been run over by a train.

Out of habit, even after a year, she rolled over to look at Norm’s side of the bed. She smoothed a hand over the blankets and sighed. “Miss you more than ever, hon.”

Outside, the distant hum of a mower pierced the air. She must have slept in much later than usual. A glance at the clock on her nightstand confirmed her suspicions, and she groaned. That would teach her to go through a whole bottle of wine by herself.

A weird pain flared in Moira’s shoulder. When she reached for it, the feeling vanished. She checked under her shirt. Nothing.

Must just be part of getting old, she thought.

It seemed like it was going to be a nice day, what with the birds chirping and sunlight and all. Maybe she’d crawl out of bed and do something fun for a change, bake some cookies to give to the neighbor kid, Riley. Maybe he’d share with his overworked mother. The poor dear was working more than she was home, and Moira knew she was exhausted.

An hour later saw Moira dressed and pulling fresh cookies from the oven, the smell filling the house like a bug bomb—albeit a delicious one. While she waited for the cookies to cool, she slipped on her shoes and went outside to fetch the paper.

Moira kicked spilled candy corn off her front step. The remnants of another weeknight massacre. This time, all in the name of a holiday.

She’d stopped keeping track of the holidays.

tag list: @bauliya, @howdy-writes

[charmingcentry]

Cazzie - I’ll Stay ‘Til You Come Down

Summary: Casey and Izzie were supposed to be going on a date until life gets in the way.  Word Count: 2.1k

-

Casey sat on her bed, tapping a pen against the edge of her mathematics notebook. She couldn't keep her eyes off of her phone, as she is anticipating a message from Izzie around 5 P.M; it is currently 4:15 and Casey has been attempting to focus on her homework that she doesn't quite understand. After looking from her textbook and phone back and forth, she suddenly comes up with probably the most genius idea she's ever made - well, other than deciding to kiss Izzie that night on the track field. With a smile on her face, Casey goes through her contacts and selects Izzie’s, pressing the video call option next to her name. The brunette adjusts her hair and sets her phone against a school binder. Her phone stops dialing and Izzie appears on her screen.

“Hey, you~” Izzie greets as she plugs her earbuds into her ear and shuts the door behind her. The tone of Izzie’s voice and the smile that came along with her greeting made Casey’s stomach drop so intensely.

“Hi there…” The brunette shows her math homework to the camera on her phone for Izzie to see. “How the hell do you do this shit?”

Izzie lets out a soft laugh and grabs her own paper and pencil. “Alright, well, you start off by…”

Izzie’s explanation begins to drown out in Casey's mind as the brunette begins to primarily focus on her girlfriend and how pretty she looks. The shorter of the two clearly are already dressed up for their date at the movies later. Casey notices how her hair appears to be curlier than usual and her “special-occasion earrings” as Izzie likes to call it. She's wearing her white sweater from the party where the two got so lost in each other's presence as they danced. The brunette couldn't help but just stare in awe at her girlfriend, still in wonder how she got the girl she has been pining over. Casey adores how Izzie tends to have her hair tucked behind her ear, how adorable her smile is, and how excited and happy Izzie makes her feel.

“Did you get all that?”

The brunette immediately snaps out of her trance. “I, uh, totally!”

Izzie raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? What did I just say then?”

Casey notices her girlfriend’s paper is visible to the far right of the screen; her eyes immediately directed towards there. “You said something about power rule and-

Izzie notices where her eyes are pointing and slowly slides the paper out of frame. “Hey!”

They both begin to laugh and Izzie slides the paper back into Casey’s view. “Well… are you excited for later Newton?”

“Maybe, you know I'm excited about the food… the mall, I think the movie too.” Casey teases, trying to fight back a smile. “...and of course, I'm excited to see you the most.”

Izzie gently tugs at her bottom lip, blushing seemingly spreading across her face. “You’re so dumb, Newton…”

“Oh, you love it.” The brunette glances toward her mirror and notices that she's still in her Clayton uniform from earlier. She springs up from her bed and leaves her phone facing up toward the ceiling.

“Uh, Case you alright there?” Izzie only heard hangers slamming in the distant as a response. “I guess someone is dressing up last minute…”

The brunette smirks as she goes through two of her flannels, determining what would go well with Izzie’s outfit. “Pffft, what, I'm not doing that.” She goes with a black and white checkered one and slips off her Clayton uniform. 

“I can hear your hangers clattering in the background… and I just saw your tie fly across the room.”

Casey completes her outfit by slipping on her pants and fixing her hair a tiny bit. “It wanted to take a 5-minute break y'know?”

The brunette collapses back onto the bed, catching her breath. Izzie lets out a laugh as Casey motions her hand up and down her body, gesturing towards her last-minute outfit. “Not so bad right?”

“Eh, 7/10,” Izzie replies, knowing damn well her girlfriend looks amazing.  “By the way, you never told me what movie we were gonna watch.”

“Oh! Uh, Paige recommended it to me actually. It’s like a remake of a popular fairy tale… hopefully, you won’t fall asleep during it.”

Izzie rolls her eyes. “Hey, I only fall asleep during movies when I watch it at home or with you… in theaters, I tend to do the bobbing head thing.”

“I’ll make sure you’ll stay awake somehow. I mea-

From Izzie’s end of the call, a door slams shut loudly. Izzie yells for her mother but no response was heard. The black-haired girl immediately shoots her head toward the entrance of the room she was in and rushes out, Izzie’s end of the call sounding windy as she runs towards the door that was slammed loudly. Casey’s face immediately drops into a look of concern for Izzie, hoping that everything is alright.

“Iz, what’s going o-

Casey is interrupted by Izzie immediately ending the call; the brunette’s stomach immediately drops and she rushes out of her bedroom towards the dining room, shoving her phone into the pocket of her pants. She storms down the stairs and frantically looks for Elsa who contains Casey’s car keys whenever her daughter isn’t using the car. The brunette finds her mother in the kitchen, mixing a bowl of batter for what seems to be tonight’s dessert along with an open pizza box. 

“Elsa, I need the car keys. I was in a call with Izzie and it ended with a door slamming and she hung up abruptly and we were supposed to go on a da- hang out later but I need to check on her.”

Her mother’s eyebrow immediately furrow and her mouth drop into a frown. She immediately places down her bowl and wipes her hands against a towel. “Oh uh, the car keys are in my purse on the table.” 

Casey immediately rushes over to her purse and makes way for the door. “Wait!”

The brunette lets out a groan and turns back around, only to be met with a pizza box being shoved into her chest by Elsa. “Take it for Izzie and her siblings…”

Casey smiles slightly and says goodbye to Elsa. She quickly exits out of her house and rushes into the car, intensely hoping that everything is alright with Izzie and her family and knowing how her mother behaves sometimes… Casey couldn’t help but think negatively. 

-

The brunette knocks on the door, holding the pizza box in one hand. She rapidly taps her foot against the ground, her heart rate rising with every second when the door isn’t unlocked. Casey looks around the small space she’s standing in, anticipating for the door to be unlocked by Izzie or her little siblings. After a few seconds that felt like excruciating hours, she hears footsteps approach the door and her heart rate begins to level out. The door is opened and Casey is greeted by a puffy red-face Izzie, the brunette nearly dropped the pizza box from wanting to enclose her girlfriend in a hug.

“I’m sorry I- my mom just… you know how she is.” Izzie dejectedly answers, wiping her face with the sleeves of her sweater. The black-haired girl notices the pizza box and Casey hears her exhale out of her nose. “Thanks… you didn’t really have to.”

“Anything for you Izzie,” Casey says, slowly entering her girlfriend’s home and placing down the pizza box on a nearby table; she notices the toys scattered around the floor of the small living room. 

“I’m sorry, I know we were supposed to go on a date… you don’t gotta stay.”

Casey, without missing a beat replies. “I’m staying right here with you Izzie.” 

She notices how the shorter girl’s mouth begins to tremble and her eyes become watery. The brunette walks over to her girlfriend and wraps her arm securely around Izzie, putting her arms around Izzie’s waist. Casey tightens her embrace around her girlfriend, wanting to make her feel safe, secure, and appreciated. The brunette felt the chest of her shirt becoming wet but she didn’t mind, as long as Izzie and her siblings are safe. Casey slightly pulls away and so does Izzie; the two lean in and share a quick kiss so her younger siblings don’t see. Their small moment is interrupted by tiny footsteps approaching the couple. 

Izzie frantically pulls away from Casey and stares at what seems to be one of her younger siblings. “Is your brother okay?”

The girl silently nods, fiddling with the hem of her light pink t-shirt. Izzie kneels down to her sister and Casey follows her girlfriend’s actions. Izzie’s younger sister appears to be on the verge of tears and the black-haired girl slowly raises her chin up. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Alright? You’re the strongest little girl I know!”

Her younger sister begins to smile as Izzie wipes her eyes off. Casey notices the little girl directs her eye contact towards her. “Oh hey there! I’m Casey, your sister’s friend.” 

The brunette holds out her hand for the little girl to shake; she hesitantly does so. She runs off into their living room area and once she does, Izzie leans into the side of Casey’s face and places a quick kiss on the check; the brunette blushes when she feels Izzie’s mouth form into a smile. “I’ll go check on my brothers…”

She walks down the narrow corridor of the house and Casey stands back up, looking towards the little girl who appears to upset. Something in the brunette’s brain clicked and she begins to approach the girl slowly, lowering herself on the couch very gently. Casey notices the little girl eyeing the pizza box hungrily.

“You want one? I got it for you guys.” The little girl’s mouth forms into a smile and she nods very happily. Casey grins, leaning forward to grab a slice for the little girl and is surprised to notice that the pizza is still warm. “Here you go.” She hands the little girl the slice and watches her eat all happily. Izzie’s little sister muffles out a thank you as she chews, causing Casey to laugh a bit.

“Are you in college?” The little girl asks, her voice sounds very light and squeaky.

“Nope, I go to school with your big sister! I’m in the same sport as her too.” 

Casey’s heart warms when she notices the little girl become more excited as she takes one more bite from her pizza. “My sister dances when you called her.” The brunette clears her throat and fights back a grin.

“Does she really?” Casey asks, entertaining the thought of her girlfriend doing a little celebratory dance. 

“Yep! Your name also has thousands of hearts next to it!” Before Casey could get a word in, Izzie’s little sister continues to spill many secrets. “On her bedroom wall, there’s a picture of you two with a heart drawn! And whenever she gets home, she’s very happy and glad. And-

A hand clamps over Izzie’s little sister’s mouth. “Okay, Mia that’s enough!” Mia furrows her eyebrows and Izzie immediately retracts her hand, wiping it against the couch. “Gross! Don’t lick me!” Mia runs out of the living room, laughing while Casey’s girlfriend proceeds to rest on the couch with a small smile.

“Aw come on, she was spilling all your secrets!” Casey teases, slinging an arm over her girlfriend. Izzie basically nuzzles into her side and plants a small kiss against Casey’s jawline.

“Oh shut up… Mia tends to overshare.”

“Clearly… so what’s up with your brothers?”

“My brother Aidan is taking care of the baby… he was crying when I saw him. When I asked what happened, he just said that mom walked out again…”

Casey secures her hold against Izzie, pulling her closer into her side. “I’m sorry about that… you taking them to your grandmas?”

“Maybe later tonight… I’m letting the baby have his nap time.” 

“I can drive you all then we can head to my place.” Izzie began to protest but Casey insisted on her offer. “Hey, it’s alright with me. I mean, I was already thinking of driving you guys there anyway so…”

Izzie sniffles, wiping tears away from her eyes. “You’re the best Newton…”

Casey turns to face her girlfriend’s face. “I know.”

Izzie quickly looks at their surroundings and once she noticed it was all clear, she places a kiss on Casey’s lips. The brunette turns to face her girlfriend and wraps her arms around her as Izzie cups her face. Every time the two kiss, Casey could feel her heart jump into her throat and her stomach doing a series of backflips and Izzie just can’t help but smile. They slowly pulled away, pressing their foreheads together, smiling like dorks, enjoying a moment of peace in their life.

[foxfyrez]

Chapter 8: He’s A Flirt

Axel and Silent walked towards Antonio's restaurant as Silent noticed Axel's eye kept flickering from blue to red. She knew that would be trouble for her if he started acting up at the diner. Hopefully, he didn't do anything crazy. "I gotta get in touch with Junior to fix you up," Silent mumbled.

Axel whined, nuzzling Silent's hand with affection. His tail wagged slowly, crouching down in a playful stance and bounding off down the road towards Antonio's.

Silent took off after him, yelling for him to slow down. Silent was fast, but today she felt super exhausted after spending the majority of last night trying to patch him up. She had no clue what she was doing because she's never messed with programs and parts before.

It wasn't a pretty sight to see Axel malfunction in the middle of repairing him, and he sorta wrecked one of the Duke's soon to be built cars. The Duke was not happy.

Once Silent reached the establishment, she caught her breath. "Goddammit, Axel, I'm tired! Please wait for me!" She felt Axel nudge her hand with his muzzle before nipping at her fingers harshly. She yelped, yanking her hand away. "Ow!" She looked down at her fingers to see they were slightly bleeding.

Axel barked at her, wagging his tail and crouching down in a playful stance again.

"Bad dog! That hurt!" Silent scolded him, wiping her fingers off on her jeans. Her fingers were still bleeding faintly so she settled for wrapping it up in her cloak for the time being. "We need to get you fixed up." She looked at him with a tired look. Maybe this happened when Crater threw him into a wall a few days ago.

Axel tilted his head, waiting for Silent to follow him into the diner. His long tail thumped on the ground patiently. He was sitting in the middle of the entrance of Antonio's Restaurant, scanning the area for a perfect booth to sit at.

There was a booth located right in the middle of two pillars that could fit him and Silent perfectly. It looked spotless, and it seemed like no one was gonna use it for a while. It was a pretty good choice.

Silent noticed him staring at something, "Axel, what're you doi-" she got cut off by Axel, who bit down on her sleeve and yanked her towards the booth. She stumbled, "Slow down!" She ordered, but he still kept on going. She dug her heels into the floor, trying to deter him from going any further.

Apparently, that action made him mad as he turned his head around, growling at Silent. His eye was beginning to glitch out again. He looked like he was going to pounce on Silent if she didn't do what he wanted.

Silent bit her lip and started walking towards the booth that Axel had picked out. She didn't want Axel to start a scene in the diner so she went along with his plans for now. Reaching the booth he had picked out for her, she sat down on one of the ends, letting Axel chew on her cloak's sleeve (at least he wasn't chewing on her arm).

"Hey what can I get- oh, it's you Silent." Riley waved at her. She looked down at Axel to notice that he was biting Silent's sleeve. His eye color was a bright red which reminded her of the original programming that Axel had. "Is... Is Axel alright?"

"No, he's been bugging out ever since Crater threw him against a wall. I'd advise you to stay away from him until he gets fixed. His mood changes a lot, and he's in a very bitey mood." Silent showed Riley her fingers. "I don't know what's wrong with him."

Axel heard his name being called, and he looked up from chewing on the sleeve. He spotted Riley, his eyes flickering to blur as his tail wagged in excitement. He went back to chewing.

Riley inched away from the dog, pulling out her notepad to take Silent's order. "So you want the usual?"

Silent looked at the menu for a moment, deciding to ask a question. "Do you guys have anything seafood related? Like just shrimp or squid or like fried fish sticks? I'm craving some seafood. Oh, and I want a vanilla milkshake!" She put the menu down, resting her chin on her hands. Looking around the restaurant, she noticed that it was busier than usual. "Is there an event happening right now? Why are there so many people here?"

Riley jotted down some things onto her notepad, "The Mama's Boys dropped by for a visit and a few people here are their fans, I guess. Those fans called other fans, and now it's swamped. I'm surprised you didn't notice your loverboy's car parked right outside. It's hard to miss with its design and color scheme."

Silent looked around the room to see that there were a lot of people crowding around certain tables which probably had some of the Mama's Boys at them. "Huh, didn't know they had fans considering the type of shit they do. I guess people like Junior even have fans." She tapped her fingers on the table. "Stop calling him my loverboy." She said bitterly.

Riley stood there, looking at the restaurant. "Ya know, Junior has a ton of fans. I was surprised to see him flirting with them. I was totally expecting him to get turned down, but I guess not."

Silent looked at Riley, "Wait, you mean he can flirt? You mean the short fuckboy can actually flirt?"

Riley snorted, "As I said, I was surprised too. Here watch this." Riley pulled up a video screen, pressing play.

The video started with Junior trying to flirt with one of the Amazons. Silent didn't know who it was because she's never met them before, but she guessed it was their leader. Soon Junior tried talking to her and for a while, she listened to him. Then she said something to him, and his face fell. It made Silent burst out laughing as Riley closed the video.

"Oh my god! She totally wrecked him! I've never met her before, but she just promised to snap his spine!" She held onto her stomach as her head rested on the table. "I would have paid to see this!"

Riley held onto her tray. "Dude, that's not even the best part! Like so after she said that to him, he looked at her and went 'please' in the tiniest voice ever. Silent, I lost my mind, I couldn't stop laughing."

Silent thought this day couldn't get any better. "Holy shit! Oh my god, don't tell me he has a thing for that? Wow, now I can totally use this against him whenever he tries to flirt with me again!" Silent had to move her mask to the side so she could wipe the tears from her face. Once she and Riley settled down, she took a deep breath. "I cannot believe he said that."

Riley stepped away from the booth, "Well he did, and I recorded it." She looked at Silent thoughtfully, placing her pen to her lips. "Say, are you and Junior still together?"

Silent's mask looked confused, "We were never together in the first place? Why are you asking?"

"I thought you two were dating! You both seem lovey-dovey with each other!" Riley gasped. "You guys would make a great couple! Hey, I can ask Junior if he wants to date you. He is at the Smoothie Bar." She pointed over behind her where Junior sat talking to his fans.

Silent sputtered, "No! Don't you dare! We are not lovers, and I highly doubt he likes me since he flirts with every person that shows him the slightest hint of attention."

"You sound like you're jealous."

"Riley, just go get my order."

"Alright, see ya in a few. Try not to get jealous of the fans keeping Junior from you!" Riley sprinted away from Silent's wrath.

——————————————————-

Now that Silent was alone again, minus Axel who was still chewing on her sleeve, she had to think about why everyone assumed she and Junior were a couple. It made no sense! They were just friends is all and besides, Silent made no plans to date anyone when she arrived in Motorcity. It was actually a rule she had to follow whenever she went out on her hunting jobs. If she had fallen for someone and they felt the same eventually she would have to leave when she finished her hunts. With the amount of work she has, long-distance relationships don't last very long. Sure it does get lonely sometimes, but she can usually keep going by herself. And now, she has a robot dog to take care of.

She started thinking about what made Junior so interesting. There had to be something that drew her in, and she knows it's not his personality. Just because he was cute didn't mean she wanted to hold his hand and kiss his dumb face, right? Or like talk to him about random shit and listen to music together? That's what friends do, and they were friends. There were times she wanted to strangle him for his behavior of mistreating robots, and other times she wanted to just hold him close and— wait, hold the fuck up.

It dawned on Silent that she probably liked Junior more than a friend. She held her head in her hands. "This cannot be happening! There's no way in hell I have feelings for that loser! No! It's gotta be a misunderstanding, yeah!" She whispered to herself in denial. Maybe if she hit her head hard enough against the table, she could knock some sense into herself.

"Feelings for who?"

Silent jumped, looking up at whoever happened to witness her dismay. Turns out it was one of the Mama's Boys staring at her with a smirk on their face. She didn't know all of their names, except for Junior, so she struggled to try to come up with something.

This Mama's Boy had a bandage across his nose. His red cap was placed sideways on his head, covering his brown hair. He was a lot taller than Junior, well all of them were and built like an ox. He looked like he could snap Silent in half if he wanted to.

"Uh.."

He noticed her struggling for his name. "My name's Chad. I'm pretty sure you know which gang I'm from." He stared down at her, glancing to the Houndbot by her feet. It looked like it was chewing on something, but Chad couldn't tell what. "Hey, your dogs got something in his mouth."

Silent sighed, "Yes, I'm aware. He's just chewing on my sleeve. He's kinda malfunctioning. I was gonna call your brother to fix him, but Junior hasn't been picking up any of my calls recently."

Chad laughed as he sat down on the opposite side of Silent. He put his hands behind his head. "Well, he's been pretty busy lately due to some unexpected business. Also, his fans won't give him some space since we've been here." He glanced back towards where Junior was at the Smoothie Bar being trapped by his fans.

Silent looked over there, spotting the shortie talking up a storm with the crowd around him. He looked like he was flirting due to how smug his face looked. Rolling her eyes, she began to mutter, "I still can't believe he has fans. He's too goddamn short to even reach the barstool without help."

Chad snickered, "You're right. I think he's got a box he uses to get on some things higher than him." Now that Chad was talking to Silent, he could now see who Junior was always hanging out with when they weren't working. He thought it was that kid who kept yelling his own name when he hit things, but it's a girl apparently. He thought it was strange because Juniors not been very popular with the ladies, except for those in his fan club. He decided to examine her more.

"He probably has a booster seat in his car."

Chad snorted and looked at the dog near his feet. "So how's the Houndbot doing? Since Junior gave him to you for some reason, I've been wondering if he gave it to you because it was bugged or something. Junior never really explained why."

"As I said before, I think he needs a tune-up. As you already know, I'm a fighter, not a mechanic so I have no idea how to fix him. None of the Duke's mechanics will take a look at him because they're afraid of us." Silent shrugged her shoulders.

Chad looked at the Silent for a moment, "Who could be afraid of you? You're so small." He joked before looking at the dog by his shoes. "I could take a look at him if you want."

"I thought you hated me? Why would you want to help me?" Silent asked. She didn't have a good relationship with the other Mama's Boys because she's never had the time to befriend them. She's only made friends with Junior because he's the only one to approach her again and again.

"Because you're not as bad as I previously thought. If you can handle Junior's shitty personality and behavior, then you're good in my book. I don't know about the others though." Chad answered back, leaning on the table.

Silent didn't know what to think. She personally would rather have Junior look at Axel, but he's busy at the moment. She looked at Axel, contemplating her answer before nodding her head. She glanced at Chad to see he was being honest with her. "Ok, please fix Axel. You better not fuck him up or I will personally come after you."

Axel stirred upon hearing his name, and he looked at the man kneeling beside him. His eye changed to red, growling at him.

Silent leaned over and rested her hand on his head, stroking him softly. "No Axel, it's ok. He's not going to hurt you, he's going to try and fix you up." Her voice soothed Axel's nerves as he dropped his guard. "Good boy."

Chad whistled, "Damn, I can see why Junior let you have him. You can control him with just your voice." He began to open up Axel's side panel and took a look at the components inside. "So, what's he been doing that's causing you trouble?"

Silent stretched out in her seat, "He's gotten very hostile towards everyone, even me. He's been snapping at everyone, and I'm tired of getting chomped on. It hurts." She showed Chad her arm which was covered in bites. Her fingers stopped bleeding thankfully.

"Oh, that must suck. I've been bitten by Houndbots before, and it stings like a bitch. Considering Axel is rather large for his size and mutated, his bites must be extra painful." Chad inspected her arm for a moment before returning to the task at hand. He opened up some screens to take a look at some programming. Scanning through the stats and diagnostics, he found the problem. "I think his programming is trying to revert itself to its original state, ya know like before we took out Kane's programming. I can try to disable it." He announced, taking a look at Silent to see her holding a milkshake in her hands. "Where'd you get that?"

"I ordered it. I was supposed to get some seafood with it, but there's been a problem with my order so this is all I get." She replied, lifting her mask so she could take a sip.

"I want one."

Silent stuck her tongue out, "it's mine. If you can fix Axel for me, I'll buy you one." She spotted Riley wiggling her eyebrows from behind a pillar that was next to their booth. Silent glared at her for making assumptions about something happening between herself and Chad.

And now Chad could see why Junior was so smitten by Silent; even if it was just a small portion of her face exposed, Chad could tell that Silent was kinda cute. Apparently Junior had seen half of Silent's face, and he was hit by Cupid's arrow right through the heart. Chad smiled, "You know, I can understand why Junior talks a lot about you now. He thinks you're pretty cute, and now that I can see what you kinda look like, I totally agree." He bluntly stated, trying to fix the dog's programming. He greatly enjoyed the noise that Silent made when he made his statement.

Riley started snickering behind her tray.

Silent's face felt warm as she pulled down her mask and hid herself in her hands. "Please don't hit on me! I deal with this enough from Junior!"

Chad snickered. He couldn't believe that Junior had the gall to flirt with the Duke's bodyguard. The same bodyguard that kicked their asses the first time they met her. "I'm surprised he hasn't tried to ask you out on a date yet like he's done so with many other people." He clicked on some commands and closed the panel back up. "Alright, he's been fixed. If he starts acting funny, don't hesitate to call." He sat back across from Silent.

Silent looked down at Axel's eye, seeing it was a bright blue color again. She smiled in relief, leaning down to pat his head. "Thank you! Now as promised, I'll get you a milkshake." She looked at Riley, who nodded and walked off.

"So what caused Axel to malfunction? He's a pretty sturdy bot so it would have to take a large force to mess him up." Chad asked, watching Silent as she sipped on her milkshake. By this time, Silent had officially moved her mask to the side of her face (it was still covering half of her face though) so she could drink the milkshake in peace without having to readjust it constantly.

Silent blew a bubble into her milkshake, watching as it formed a bubble and popped. "Crater threw him against a building, and I guess it broke something from the impact." Silent shrugged.

"Man, Crater sure does hate you. I've never seen him actively go after someone other than you before. Well, there is Squall from the FoxFyre gang, but he doesn't go out of his way to attack him as he does with you. What did you do to piss him off?" Chad asked, glancing around the establishment to keep his mind occupied.

"I think it's because I beat his ass. You saw it happen." Silent replied. "Apparently his whole gang wants me dead except a certain redhead." She took another sip of her drink again.

Chad nodded. So she's made friends with the redhead from the Electroblades... that could prove troublesome for Junior. He was still trying to figure her out. He could see why his brother liked her. She didn't push him away like most of the people he's flirted with. Maybe she felt the same towards Junior but didn't know how to show it? "Huh.."

Silent looked at him, confusion etched on her face. "What?"

"Juniors really fell hard for you, and I have to agree that you're something special." He placed his hands on the table, leaning across it. He softly chuckled, seeing her hide her face behind her mask. "Your mask is telling me how you're feeling, you can't hide it." He pointed out.

Silent hissed. "Stop calling me cute! You haven't even seen what I look like, you've seen like part of my face. It doesn't count!" She crossed her arms and looked away from him.

Chad sat back down in his seat. "Well from what I've seen, you're very pretty. I would like to know what you look like from underneath the mask though. Maybe one day..." he trailed off. Thinking back to what Silent had said before Chad had introduced himself, everything clicked into place. "I get it now."

"Huh?"

"What you were talking about earlier before I arrived." He crossed his arms, nodding to himself. "You like Junior."

Silent's voice caught in her throat. She bit her lip to contain all the noises that wanted to spill out from her mouth. "Why does everyone keep saying that?! I swear to god I do not like him. There'll never be a chance in hell. Y'all just imagining it."

Chad raised a brow at her statement, "Ya sure?"

"Yeah totally. It's never gonna happen."

"Well, that's a shame. He's very fond of you." Chad stated, glancing over to the Smoothie Bar to see Junior making his way over to their table.

"He flirts with anyone he can. I doubt it, Chad. Here watch this video that my friend sent me." Silent pulled up a video screen and pushed it over to Chad, who pressed play. "He spends his time flirting with Foxy so I don't believe he likes me like you think he does." She said as he watched the video, snickering at the end of it and closing the screen. Silent moved her mask to the side again so she could take a sip of her milkshake.

"Well, I do admit that he does flirt with Foxy a lot, but he doesn't stare at her the same way he stares at you. He's head over heels in love with you." Chad stretched his arms above him. "Sounds like you're jealous of Foxy too."

"No, I've never met Foxy before. Why would I be jealous?" She rolled her eyes.

—————————————————

Junior had noticed one of his brothers was missing from their little hangout by the Smoothie Bar. He looked around for Chad, spotting him at a booth with some girl. "Well, would you look at that? Chads got himself a girl." He laughed.

The other members of the gang looked where Junior had pointed and started cackling. One of them (the one with the glasses and teddy bear in his overall's front pouch) leaned in close to Junior and whispered something in his ear.

Junior's carefree expression faltered. "Are you sure?" He looked at his brother in annoyance.

His brother nodded.

Junior grumbled, jumping off the barstool and headed on over to meet up with Chad. As Junior walked past random people, he spotted a familiar-looking Houndbot resting beside the booth his brother was at. He recognized it as Silent's dog.

The Houndbot stirred awake when something got too close to its territory. Once Axel recognized who it was, his tail started wagging.

Junior put his finger up to his mouth to shush the dog, hoping Axel would understand him. Thankfully, he did. He walked closer to them and found out the girl indeed was Silent herself. He noticed her mask was on the side of her face, allowing her to drink her milkshake. She looked very pretty— wait a minute.

Junior stopped dead in his tracks for a moment to process the thought that he just had. Well yeah, she is pretty, but he usually never went after the same girl for this long. He usually got bored and went after a new target. But for some reason, he liked to tease Silent. Liked getting her flustered, liked hearing her laugh, liked her voice, her personality... he just liked everything about her. Oh hell no, he had fallen in love!

"Pardon me," A waitress said and pushed past him to deliver a drink to their booth. She set it down in front of Chad.

Junior's face felt warm, and he shook his head to get rid of the thoughts plaguing his mind. "I do not have a crush!" He repeated over and over again under his breath. He walked right over to their booth and slammed his hands on the table, catching their attention. "Well, what do we have here? You guys on a date?"

Silent jumped at the sudden noise, banging her knee underneath the table. She glared at Junior while holding her knee. "You asshat! That hurts!"

Chad slurped on his drink, avoiding eye contact with his brother. If this was gonna play out like Chad wanted it to, he had to avoid pissing off his brother at all costs.

Junior snickered, glancing at Chad who wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"We're not on a date. We're just talking." Silent replied.

"About?"

Silent remembered what Chad had said to her, and she looked to the side. She was probably blushing, but she couldn't help it. "Nothing, go away fuckboy."

Chad choked on his drink and started laughing. "She—she just called you a fuckboy!" He held his stomach as he laughed.

"Shut up!" He snapped at Chad while bringing his attention to Silent. He leaned closer to her, smelling the scent of vanilla that came from her milkshake. "I'm not a fuckboy."

Silent smiled mischievously, "oh that's right. You can't be one if you've never fucked anyone. My bad, I forgot." She leaned back to avoid getting punched in the face.

Chad laughed even harder now, gripping the table for support. "Holy shit, she got you good!" He was going to get in so much trouble for this, but it was absolutely worth it.

Junior growled, grabbing Silent by the front of her cloak. "Shut up!"

"Aww, are you mad because I called you out? It's ok, not everyone can get laid. Don't feel bad about yours—" Silent got cut off when Junior punched the seat cushion beside her. Yeah ok, he was pissed off now, maybe she should stop before it was too late. She held up her hands in a defensive stance. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry."

Junior gave her a death glare, "You better sorry. I would not hesitate to punch you." He threatened.

"Hey, no need for violence. She was just joking. Take it easy." Chad recovered from his laughing fit and stood up to stop Junior if he needed to. He could hear Axel’s low growling.

Junior cursed, lowering Silent back down into the booth. He let her go and crossed his arms. "Whatever."

Silent looked to the side and scooted to the middle of the booth in case Junior wanted to sit down.

Chad looked between Silent and Junior, sighing in annoyance. "Hey let's not let this sexual tension get everything weird, talk it out." He just opened up another issue.

Silent glared at Chad. She knew what he was doing, and there was no way in hell she would allow it to come to light. Her feelings that is, she wouldn't allow Chad to reveal her feelings for Junior. "Shut up, Chad."

Chad smirked, "Why don't you tell him? It's a perfect time to."

Junior looked back and forth from Chad to Silent in confusion. "Tell me what?" Junior had sat down on the edge of the booth.

"It's nothing." Silent replied, having a staring contest with Chad.

"I'm sure Junior would like to hear it."

"No."

Junior groaned, "For fuck's sake, just tell me!"

"Silent has the hots for you!" Riley blurted out; soon covering her mouth with her hand and fleeing the booth.

"RILEY!"