A/N: It's almost Halloween. I'm listening to creepy songs, reading creepy books, and watching creepy movies.
Coming up with stuff like this is inevitable, really.
But hey, it's just an experiment. I will be happy to continue this if it gets a good reception.
I'm not a native English speaker, please help me out if you see any mistakes, your feedback is much appreciated!
Heavy air, dark clouds and the unmistakable scent of rain crowded the streets of Paris.
Chat Noir was patrolling on one of the many roofs of the typical parisians houses in the centre of the city, his boots producing a metallic sound whenever he would take a step forward. His green eyes watched as pedestrians made their way back home, some coming back from a hard day of work, some from a joyful meeting with someone they loved. There was no rush in the city today: even the usually aggressive drivers of the Monday late afternoon were taking their sweet time going down the usual route, stopping every now and then to let some kid cross the road.
Everything was calm, and yet he found himself so deeply disturbed by such tranquility.
There had been something in the back of his mind, a tingling sensation that had accompanied him throughout the entire day. He couldn't say it was a light sort of headache, as it didn't actually cause him any pain, but it was there, and he could not avoid thinking about it from time to time. He had found concentrating extremely hard during class, as his gaze would automatically shift on a particular spot on the window at the opposite side of the room. Even now, as he made his way towards his meeting with Ladybug, he would surprise himself slowly changing direction in his steps, not walking straight. His head would still be turned towards a part of the city he didn't know so well, and he could not help but wonder if that was the same direction he had been staring at that morning as well. His own body seemed attracted to this random place, whatever it may be, and that troubled him as he would not even notice himself straying off his path.
What worried him the most, however, was the omnipresent sensation of something left undone, the sick little itch in that same spot that would drive him insane. He could feel his own fingertips tingle, impatient to do that something that he so desperately needed to do.
He had tried to brush this sensation off, he had tried to tell himself that there was nothing to worry about and that it was probably only some lack of sleep, but by the fourth period of class he had decided to interrogate Plagg in the bathroom. While describing his symptoms, the black cat had been strangely silent, only asking him what day it was. He had purred after he had told him it was the 31st of October.
"You'll be fine, just keep yourself off graveyards and stuff."
He had almost jumped out of his skin at that. His kwami had seen his reaction and had continued talking, his bored expression never leaving his little face.
"You humans get a lot of stuff wrong, but Halloween is an exception. Some freaky stuff happens for real the night between the 31st and the 1st, and you feel it. Of course, leave it to the Americans to get it wrong and create that whole trick or treat thing."
"What is it… what do I exactly feel?" he asked.
"The spirits, the dead… all that sort of bad stuff. You have the power of misfortune," he yawned. "that's why you feel weird. It's like leaving a kid blindfolded in a bakery. He's not going to see any of the cakes, but he will know that they are there because he can smell them and he's gonna go and try to get them."
The analogy only made Adrien's sense of uneasiness grow: cakes and spirits were not to be compared. Ever.
"Yeesh kid, relax. Just stay off of trouble and you'll be fine."
Adrien did not relax after that. Actually, he became even more nervous and his senses seemed to amplify after what he had been told, as if his own brain now knew what to search for. It was terrifying.
Unfortunately, Plagg had decided that he was done reassuring him, and had started asking for Camembert, the 'real thing he should have been worrying about,' as he put it. He had had to stop relying on him for the rest of the day, and he had ran out of his basketball class after school as fast as he could to run to his Lady.
He was sure the weird feeling would have been harder to notice with her around. Whenever they were together, the entire world ceased to exist for him, and his eyes had to fight hard in order to detach themselves from the girl he cared so much for. His mouth would curl up at her sight even on the worst of days, and he would often find himself wondering what good he had done for being blessed by her strong, addictive presence.
He loved her so much.
He felt his left foot falling into nothingness and had to jump back to regain his balance. He had somehow managed to reach the edge of the rooftop he was walking on, and his left foot had apparently decided that he needed to crash onto the street below. Adrien grimaced as he realised that he was still unconsciously walking over the same direction as before; not even the thought of his beloved Ladybug had been enough to calm down his instincts.
All his worries were put aside as an explosion was heard. His ears shot up and he ran on all fours towards the source of the many screams, hoping that Ladybug would already be there. Unsurprisingly, a young-looking akuma was making a mess in the top floor of the hotel Le Grand Paris. Chat Noir was ready to bet that whatever had happened had been Chloé's fault.
As if to demonstrate that he was right, he managed to spot her blonde hair and yellow outfit, hiding behind a plant right next to the beautiful hotel's pool. The akuma, dressed in yellow as well and wearing a black helmet, seemed to be searching for her with fury. Adrien couldn't make out his features, as their face seemed to be dirty and black. It was almost as something had exploded in his face.
"Come out now, little princess… let me blow you up!" they screamed.
Chat Noir approached him silently, and searched for any signs of his partner. He sighed at the realisation that he would have to make sure the akuma would not hurt Chloé on his own, but still got himself on top of the luxurious hotel without being seen. He got out his staff, elongating it so that the akuma would trip on it, and kept himself at a safe distance while the latter got up, angry.
"Sorry to break it to you, but I can't let you do that," he smirked.
He assumed a fighting stand, planning to keep the akuma busy until Ladybug could get to him. The akuma turned around, and Chat Noir finally had the chance to better examine him: he was younger than he imagined, probably around 7 or 8 years old, and he had been right imagining that something had blown up on his face. His glance fell lower, noticing the belt full of bombs ready to be used.
He really didn't want to fight a kid.
"I don't know why you are doing this, but you should stop now." He tilted his head, offering the boy his best smile. "I am even going to let you go without even fighting you if you promise to be nice, how does that sound?"
The bomb that was thrown at him was the only answer he received.
"Well," he commented as he dodged it, elegantly jumping to the side. "I tried, didn't I?"
The hero charged, holding his staff tightly in his hands. He dodged the bombs that were thrown at him with jumps that would have pissed off his Lady because of how pretentious and unnecessary they were. He could not allow himself to send the bombs flying with his staff, as they could have ended up in a street and explode there. The only thing he could do was avoid getting hit by them and hoping that they would not be strong enough to pulverise him. The jumps were kind of necessary then, and he liked to do things with style.
Out of nowhere, a sharp sensation in the back of his upper neck caused him to stop himself on his track. The now familiar tingly sensation was spreading throughout his entire body, and he felt every muscle tensing up as his head moved on its own, turning to his left. His eyes moved frantically to search for something that he didn't know, and his breath was coming out uneven.
He had to get there. His legs were begging for him to move them in that direction, and he could feel his fingers twitch nervously on their own.
Something was telling him that he couldn't, that there was something important that he should have done, but he couldn't remember what. What was there that was more important that reaching That Place anyways?
He didn't know, he didn't remember.
Adrien felt like he was underwater, with muffled sounds and slow and lazy movements. He was startled when he found himself thrown on the ground in the direction that was opposite to his goal.
An unfamiliar sensation overwhelmed his body: warmth. Someone was holding him, he realised.
He got up, ready to face them with anger because they were trying to get him away from That Place, but then he started to see again. Green plants were spotted by his green eyes, as well as a grey sky and a burnt floor. He realised that the latter was only a meter away from him, and wondered if it was there beforehand.
"Chat!"
A voice was calling to him. He had forgotten he could hear, he had forgotten everything.
"Chat Noir! Answer me!"
No, that wasn't true. He hadn't forgotten her.
"Lady.. bug?" talking was hard, so much harder than he imagined.
He realised that hands were holding his face. He moved his neck, allowing himself to see the person who they belonged to. He wasn't surprised when he saw Ladybug, but got quite concerned over her troubled expression.
"What happened?"
"Chat!" she hugged him. "You just.. stood there. The bomb was coming at you and you just stood still... What happened to you? God, if I hadn't made it in time.. If I…"
Now the burnt floor suddenly made sense. Ladybug had saved him from one of the akuma's bombs.
Chat Noir was confused; he hadn't felt anything until a moment ago, the weird sensation that he was getting used to hadn't changed much when he had gotten to the hotel. He couldn't explain to himself why it had had that sudden outburst, and he could not also explain how he hadn't been blown up to pieces.
"Thank you, my Lady," he grabbed her gentle hands, bringing them to his lips. "I owe you my life."
Ladybug's amusement was evident in her smile. "It's all right. Let's not make this a habit now, okay Chaton? How are you feeling?"
"Purrfectly fine now that you are here." Chat was glad that she looked a little relieved. He gave the merit of his success to his amazing pun.
A shriek caused them both to jump to their feet, ready for action.
The akuma had found Chloé. Or better, Chloé had decided that running towards them crying for help was a better option than just hide. Honestly, the girl just had to make everything harder, didn't she?
"What are you two doing?! Help me!"
Behind her, Adrien caught sight of a bomb travelling towards her. He didn't think twice before rushing towards her, hands open and Cataclysm charged. With a single touch, the threat disappeared, leaving him just enough time to see a dozen of other bombs rapidly approaching them.
Chloé was picked up with a shriek, and he started to run in order to avoid them. He nearly cursed when he realised that he was running out of space where to run to, but understood that he had no time to think if he didn't want to get killed. Once reached the iron grating of the building, he jumped over it, leaving his body floating in the open air.
Chloé almost made him go deaf because of the scream she threw in his ear, but he still managed to get out his staff and make it grow longer. One end of it collided with the front façade of the hotel, and the other touched the dark asphalt on the road a dozen of metres away from them. The staff was positioned diagonally, so that it was possible for Adrien to use his own gloved hand, the one which was holding them away from certain death, to slide down. His hand burnt because of the friction of the metal against his skin and his arm threatened to give out because of all the weight that was on it, but his glove did not break.
Kwami suits were really something else.
Chloé pushed to get away from him as soon as her feet could touch the ground, and proceeded to yell at him. He just decided to sit through it, worrying about localising his partner and not particularly minding what she was saying.
"How could you even do that to me?! How could you even get your filthy paws on me without my permission?!"
No, her partner definitely was not at the hotel anymore.
"It was the only way to get both of us out of there safely."
"Says who? You?" she laughed. "We both know here how brilliant your ideas usually are, don't try to act like you actually had planned any of that."
The buildings on the left seemed to be clear as well, he noticed.
"You were just really lucky that it all worked out just like you wanted it to. I'm sure Ladybug would have found a much better way to save me without endangering my life."
"Your life was already endangered, Chloé. I really didn't do anything to change that."
He really couldn't see her… could it be possible that she was travelling on street level? That would explain why he hadn't spotted her yet.
"What if that stupid idea of yours ruined my clothes? Who is going to pay for that, huh?"
Adrien turned his gaze away from the street to look at the girl. It was incredible how ungrateful she could be, it always managed to get on his nerves.
"You want to talk about damage? Okay, let's talk damage. Who has destroyed most of your hotel?"
"What, are you dumb? It was that ugly akuma of course!"
"And who was it that caused the boy to turn into an akuma?"
Chloé pouted. "It's not my fault that kid could not handle some honest criticism on his costume! Honestly, he totally overreacted."
"He is a kid, Chloé, and you insulted his Halloween costume. Of course he overreacted!"
"Whatever. You clearly don't know what you are saying and you are obviously very useless anyway, so why don't you just-"
He noticed the bomb that was flying over their heads just in time. He grabbed Chloé, who threw herself at him and clinged onto his neck for dear life, and jumped back.
Useless, huh?
"Chat Noir! On your right!" Ladybug yelled, appearing on the scene as well and running just behind the akuma.
Chat Noir jumped the opposite direction, his ring beeping, and avoided the deadly weapons. Everything would have been rather easy if only Chloé hadn't decided to put her head in his field of vision, crying and begging him to bring her back to her Papa safe and sound.
A short stinging in the back of his head threatened to make him stay still again, his own senses rapidly turning against him in order for him to leave Chloé behind and do whatever was needed from him. He found himself slowing down in his jumps, his body unconsciously moving towards an unknown direction.
Someone kicked him in the knee.
"W-watch where you are going, you idiot!" Chloé's cries were hysterical. "Don't get us both killed!"
Adrien snapped out of it: he bit the insides of his cheek, causing it to bleed, and the pain woke all the rest of his body up. His capricious limbs started to respond to his commands again, shortly followed by his eyes. He didn't know what was affecting him this much, but knew one thing.
He had to get away from there.
After the explosion of a couple of other bombs, the floor underneath his feet made a noise he wished he would have not heard. He landed safely, Chloé still tightly wrapped around him, and observed the damage that the bombs had actually done to the street, only to understand that it was too late for him to do something about this.
He couldn't do anything as the floor disappeared from below him, the old concrete finally giving out after all the damage that had been inflicted to it. Chat Noir attempted to reach his staff from his back, but his arms were too busy holding Chloé for actually doing anything about it.
The last thing he heard before the darkness welcomed him were Ladybug's desperate call for him and Chloé's scream.
He woke up to the sound of his beeping ring.
He was facing up against a close ceiling, which was completely made out of stones. It wasn't until he regained the feel of the rest of his body that he realised that he was floating in water. He struggled, putting himself in a straight position, and discovered with relief that his feet touched with ease the uneven pavement. The water smelled terrible, and he deduced that he had had to have ended up in a sewer. That would also explain why the water only reached past his waist.
What he didn't understand, however, was why everything was so dark. Of course, thanks to his night vision he was able to see clearly around him, but he could still recognise when somewhere was too dark for his tastes. It didn't make sense: if he had fallen from the surface then some light should have been able to reach the sewer he was in right now. He looked around, and noticed that there was a big wall of stones just behind him which conveniently blocked any kind of exit.
Amazing. Not only was he soaked in sewer's putrid water, he also had no way of getting out of there.
Well, at least the absence of light had been explained. He figured that it was better to know than to be completely clueless in his situation.
Plagg made sure that his owner acknowledged his presence, and his ring beeped again. He glanced at it, suddenly too aware of it, and counted with relief the 3 paws that were left. He must have been unconscious for very little, he was glad to know that.
"Oh my god!"
The sudden yell made him lose one of his 9 lives. Seriously, what was it with Chloé and screaming?
"Chat Noir? Is that you?"
He turned towards her and relaxed at her sight. She was completely wet, her usually perfect ponytail now soaked and messy, black mascara falling down her cheeks, and her eyes spelled out fear to him. He felt sorry for her, even though she was the one who had caused all of this in the first place.
"Yes, it's me." She attempted to get to him, but he stopped her by taking her hand. "Don't worry, I got you."
"Where are we?"
"The sewers, I think. Or at least, they look like sewers to me."
"They look like sewers? How can you even see anything in this dark?!" There was irritation in her voice. Did she think he was making fun of her?
"I have night vision. I'm supposed to be a cat, remember?" he explained patiently.
Chloé mumbled a complaint, and he promptly ignored her.
"We need to get out of here," he said before she could blurt anything else out. "Hold my hand, I'll try to walk ourselves out of the sewers."
It was the only thing they could do, really. Going back was not an option, and with only 3 minutes left of his transformation he knew he needed to use his night vision as much as possible. Hopefully they would get within a source of natural light pretty soon, and he could have let Chloé go on on her own while he found a quiet place where to detransform.
"Okay kitty cat, but don't give yourself wrong idea." her lips curled up in an all-knowing smile. "I'm way out of your league."
Chat Noir just looked at her, startled. What did that have to do with anything they were saying, exactly? Was she really so immature that she saw holding hands as such an intimate gesture? He had done it many times with lots of different people and had never thought too much of it. The only time his heart had skipped a beat because of something of this kind was when he was with Ladybug; with her, even the smallest of glances could be enough for his romantic fantasies and it could send him straight to paradise.
He wished his Lady could be there with him. That reminded him, she was fighting alone against that kid, he had to hurry. Ladybug could perfectly handle herself, he knew that, but he still could not brace the thought of her getting hurt because of his absence.
A cold chill ran down his spine, causing him to tighten his grip on Chloé's hand, and the whole world shut down around him. He had gotten strangely familiar with the sensation of feeling nothing and simply existing, and thought that he somehow was experiencing what being dead must have felt like. He surprisingly didn't mind that now; it felt good. The coldness was so welcoming and the dark so soothing, being dead wasn't certainly bad.
Something that remotely sounded like a complaint was caught by his ears, but it sounded far away, surreal almost. His head started to spin, the feeling in the back of his head making its appearance again, this time 10 times stronger than before.
Was he walking? He didn't know, he had completely lost every sort of feeling of his body, but the sound of moving water seemed to suggest so. Then again, did it really matter if he was moving or not? Did it matter that someone was screaming at him, pleading something in a language he didn't understand anymore?
No, it really didn't.
He could hear steps now, his own he guessed. He wasn't feeling cold anymore from his waist down, maybe he had gotten out of the water. He was going in the right direction this time, he could feel it. That Place was calling to him, an invisible force drawing him closer. He wasn't even sure he was moving anymore: he felt like he was being pulled in by something.
It felt nice. It was dark, cold and dead, the thing which was holding him. He liked it, it made him feel at home.
His eyes caught the sight of some latin inscription, and the walls soon started to be adorned by picturesque skulls. It was silly, he didn't know he could still see, and he also vaguely remembered someone telling him to stay away from graveyards. He had still managed to get himself in the catacombs, but that was nothing to be worried about.
He was getting close, he could feel the purifying sensation of death washing his skin, cleansing him from everything that made him alive. He felt complete, and he would have probably smiled if he still was in possession of a body.
He suited death and death suited him.
Suddenly, the coldness left him, a warm, thick sensation painfully reminding him of his own body. His legs gave out, and he was surprised at the loud noise his fall had produced. His senses had started, in fact, to respond to him again, and he was now too aware of everything that surrounded him.
Pain struck him, and he heard his voice die in his throat in an attempted scream. His head was going to be split in two at any moment, he could feel something inside of it pressing hard, almost as if trying to get out. He wheezed, trying to reach for his head with his hands, only to notice that one of them was not free.
His scared eyes widened in horror as he realised that he was still holding Chloé's wrist: it looked bruised, and the girl seemed to be trying to be pulling away from him with all of her strength. She was holding something with her free hand, a shoe.
"Let me go!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, "Let me go, let me go!"
Adrien did. He watched as the girl stumbled back, hitting a wall. She whimpered and held her arm close, trying to examine it in the dark. He grimaced at his own claws, holding back a scream of his own and realising that it had probably been their fault if her wrist was in that state. The ground below him was uneven, and he was so terribly tired and cold. The only source of warmth he could feel was coming from his cheek, and he used his hand to reach it, to see if it was real. He felt his stomach turn when his hand came away bloodied.
The pressure in his head was unbearable now, and he struggled to keep himself off the ground. It hurt so much, he could feel his throat tensing, struggling to get air into his lungs because of it. His teeth ached, while his tongue was sore, unable to move.
He wanted to die. It was not worth it, fighting was not worth this pain. He wanted to go back to the cold darkness again, to the death that had been so gentle to him. He could still feel it as it tried to draw him again in its empty bliss, and thought that maybe it would take him back if he begged hard enough.
His eyes intertwined with the empty cavities of some skull, and he remembered.
'Just keep yourself off graveyards.'
His voice found a way out of his throat, a loud cry echoing throughout the dead walls of the catacombs. He used them to stand up, and did not mind when one of his claws made contact with the eye socket of some skull. He had to concentrate, he had to snap out of this trance.
His ring beeped again as he moved his attention to Chloé, holding onto the thought of her with all his might. He needed something to hold him tied to this world, something that could help him escape the numbness from before. Why was she holding a shoe? Could it be that she had been trying to hit him with that after he had forcefully dragged her until there? God, she must have tried to talk to him, she must have screamed to let go of her because he was hurting her. He had no one to blame but himself for not being able to listen to her.
"I'm-" it hurt to talk, but he didn't care. He needed to apologise to her. "S-orry."
Her blue eyes widened for a brief second, and her expression turned into anger in a split second. He was glad to see that she was fierce, lively as ever.
"What is wrong with you?!" Chloé was panting heavily, furious.
Chat Noir opened his mouth again, his apology coming out a bit louder this time.
"I don't want your excuses, I just want to get out of here and get a pedicure and new clothes, now!"
"I…" his voice was warming up little by little, but it still wasn't easy for him to say what he wanted. "I will h-help you."
He took an unsure step towards her, but that only seemed to frighten her.
"Stay away from me, you freak!" she got her shoe ready, running to the side, causing her to bump into something. "Sticks?" she commented as she heard the small pile of said objects collapse, the sharp noise echoing in the long corridor. "What are sticks doing down here?"
Too bad those were not sticks. They were bones, human femurs to be exact. Chat Noir decided to not tell her any of that.
His eyes fell onto something more important: a small sphere, not bigger than his palm, had come out from under the eery pile. It looked like it was made out of steel and glass, and it emitted a bluish light on its own. Shadows were sent dancing over the stone floor because of said light, and Chat Noir felt his teeth start to rattle.
That thing was the source of everything. The pain, the cold, the death that had tried to take a hold of him… everything was contained under the glass surface of that small object. His own senses seemed to scream to him to stay away from it, but he felt his own body being driven towards it, his legs shaking in anticipation to get to where Chloé was.
He watched with horror as Chloé noticed it as well, approaching it with a confident smirk.
"Well, would you look at that," she kneeled down. "Looks like I don't need your terrible night vision to get out of here anymore, do I?"
"Get away from it!" he was shaking like a leaf. She had to get away from it, they both had to get the hell away from there! "Chloé, don't touch it!"
"No can do, kitty cat. Sorry, but I prefer going on my own and using this than staying with someone like you. I mean, I'm much more capable than you anyways, so I'll find the exit in no time. No harsh feelings, okay honey?"
Before he could do anything, her small hands had already acquired the small object, greddingly holding it close. The glass shattered at the contact with the girl's skin, and the content of the sphere escaped outside, crawling on the walls of the corridor. The substance was gas-like, but dense at the same time, and had managed to light up the whole room once free from its cage. Chloé screamed at the realisation that the wall, ceiling and floor were adorned with human body parts, and desperately looked at Chat Noir, not understanding the situation. Adrien could only stare back, dread in his eyes.
It was the end. He didn't know how, but he knew it.
He doubted he was wrong.
The air became heavy, and his sensitive ears picked up menacing hisses traveling through the corridor of the catacomb. The shadows danced around the two teenagers; they watched as they were drained from their owners, only to all travel towards one direction: Adrien.
There, as his feet were drowning in a puddle of black, the boy's eyes dilated in fear as the blue essence approached him, slow in its elegant movements. He discovered that he could not move or scream as it circled him, almost as if it was examining him. Whatever test he was being put through, he was praying every god that could come to his mind to let him fail it.
His body craved the blue essence. His arms would twitch whenever the gas would brush softly against his suit, his breath shortening as he was growing impatient for something that he didn't know was coming. The gentle caresses became soon too affectionate, too personal for Adrien's comfort. A soft moan escaped his lips and his shoulders raised, trying to allow the essence to embrace as much of him as it wanted. The fact that it felt so good disgusted him, and yet he could not deny the compatibility between his own body and whatever that could have been. His body was relaxing on its own, allowing the gas to make its way through every inch of his body and soul, and his own mind was slipping into a state of delicate numbness similar, and yet better than the one he had been in before.
It was with that state of mind that he felt it going inside him, reaching his core. Black spots appeared in his vision, but that didn't worry him. He felt completed, satisfied. He had fulfilled his calling and was receiving his reward: the cold, blissed emptiness that he so much craved. It was weird, he had never thought one could feel so alive in death.
His ring beeped, a sound that belonged to a word that was not his own anymore.
He fell asleep, lulled by the darkness' embrace.
When Chat Noir's eyes opened again, Chloé was greeted by orbs that were too old to suit his youthful face.