Notes:
A segmented drabble based on an idea me and my friends came up with in discord one day. Kind of crappy and I couldn't get a good ending down, but I guess I'm happy with it.
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1.
It started with her teeth. She didn't mention it to any of them, not Snatcher or the Dwellers, so neither did they bring it up to her. After all, perhaps she'd simply always had them. They didn't know. Maybe it was natural for her kind – she was an alien, no matter how human she looked. If she didn't see any reason to talk to them about it, then they didn't need to mention it to her.
Besides. She looked kind of neat with those little sharp teeth. It certainly made her fit in around Subcon Forest more.
Snatcher was on guard, despite the hat child's casual demeanor, despite her lack of concern about her newly sharpened teeth. She still hadn't gained her soul back – not that he really cared, no way – but nobody from outside the forest had lasted quite this long before. Normally, they died – they slipped up, fell in a pit, in the swamp, in the old well, got too curious about the frozen manor. They never stuck around quite this long.
Subcon forest was choked with magic – Vanessa's doing, something that had happened long ago, back when... well.
It had left Subcon and it's inhabitants changed forever, suffice to say.
And while the various inhabitants seemed otherwise unconcerned with the child's teeth, Snatcher was... considerably more so. Not that he'd admit it to her. She'd never let it drop.
He wouldn't say anything, though. Not unless she started acting concerned herself. Besides, she still had contracts to complete, and he wasn't about to put them on hold because her teeth looked funny.
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2.
The next time she returned to him, Snatcher couldn't keep the concern from his expression – he could tell, her own expression was confused and concerned because why on earth did Snatcher sound and look the way he did – her eyes were changing colors now too. It had been days now, weeks, forcing her to trudge along and complete contracts all across the forest because that's what he did . That's what he made his contractee's do until they collapsed and died and became just another ghost in Subcon forest.
The child's eyes, previously a bright lively blue, had shifted down at some point while she was away, down to a shimmering yellow color.
Like his minions.
Mid-way through talking to her about the next contract he had for her, he stammered, hesitated – then, perhaps wrongly, he shoved his concern down and away, and gave the child his new orders. With her sharp teeth and yellow eyes, she bounded off – disconcertingly casual about her changes.
What did it matter to him if the little brat was changing shapes? He had her soul and she was completing his contracts. That was all that he cared about. Hell, in the end he'd just kill her anyways, and rid himself of the trouble she'd inevitably cause.
He didn't care about her.
He cared about his forest and making sure the frozen witch didn't encroach on any more of his forest.
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3.
She was worried. He could see it in her face when she came back the upon finishing her most recent contract. He could also see it on her – inky purple-black lines and blotches scattered across her form – her shaky, twitching, jittery form. He couldn't keep himself from being worried either – this wasn't normal, it wasn't normal , and he almost found himself getting angry when his subtly-voiced concerned were met with a brush off, with her acting as though nothing was wrong.
Something was wrong damn it, and he wasn't going to let a little brat like her tell him what to do! But the contract was already out, had been given to her before he'd noticed what was wrong – and she'd signed it and run off before he could pester her any further about it. Why was she being so stubborn? Did she think that it was his doing, that perhaps it would go away when she was done here? He wasn't doing a damn thing to the child, not like this! He couldn't even do things like this to people!
In a moment of very human concern – that he'd yell at himself over later – he pulled her soul out from where he'd stored it. It looked normal. There were no changes to the thing here, and yet her physical form was bending and changing with every additional contract.
Another moment of genuine concern, and he tried to fit her soul back into her – carefully, sneakily. If something was wrong he could just void his contracts and give the girl her soul back. Let her recover then start again. Easy.
But it remained. The shimmering glowing, bright little soul remained stubbornly where it was, and when he went to stuff it manually back into her himself – completely hidden, of course – he found that it was refusing it's old host.
For the first time in a very long while, Snatcher trembled. The soul was returned to where he'd hidden it.
For all he claimed not to care, Snatcher found himself caring quite a bit right now.
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4.
He didn't even bother to try looking intimidating when she came back. The kid looked so much like one of his minions now that if he didn't know it was her, he'd suspect they were trying to play a trick on him. There was no contract in front of him, no flash, no showing off. Just a very concerned looking ghost and a... a thing , that looked more like one of minions than the little girl she was supposed to be.
He'd meant to kill her after all her contracts were through. She wasn't done yet, but how could he possibly harm her now?
She was almost entirely shadow. Looking at her, he could tell she was trying very hard not to twitch, like his minions did every now and again. He'd never figured out why – the magic maybe. Vanessa's corrupting magic that clearly ate into everything and every one , regardless of who or when or why.
A sigh, and he shifted down, moving closer to her.
The look on her changed face told him she was trying to pretend she was fine. He couldn't send her out on a contract like this.
"We're done, kid." He said finally, picking her up and trying desperately to ignore the unnatural double-tone of her voice when she cried out in surprise. Like his. Like the Minions. Like Vanessa.
Like everything in Subcon.
"We're finished." She tried to argue – he'd shown her multiple contracts before, she knew she had at least one more! But no. He wouldn't have it, and with an almost effortless pulse of magic he had her asleep in his arms, as he flew off back to his hollow-tree home.
He couldn't put her soul back. There was no letting her go, not back to her home. Not like this. As far as the forest would be concerned, she was just another spirit. Just another strange, magical creature from the twisted forest nobody made it out of alive.
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5.
There was no more human-colored skin by the time she'd woken up. The shadows had eaten it all away, leaving a twitchy child-shaped creature behind it. For all he'd wanted to just kill her when he was done, initially – Snatcher found himself unnaturally upset. With himself, with the forest, with Vanessa especially. It was her magic that had done this to the forest, and therefor her fault that this child had to suffer like this.
His contracts hadn't included a slow transformation at the hands of a constant, corrupted magic.
Sharp teeth, shadowy skin, silver-yellow eyes, even her hands hadn't been left alone with little claws at the ends of her fingers where nails should have been. But... her personality seemed intact. Mostly. He was thankful for that.
Not that he'd tell her.
She seemed almost reluctant, concerned, apologetic when she asked when he was going to make her complete that final contract. He didn't answer her. What was the use? He couldn't give her back her soul, and as much as he was trying to make himself think otherwise, he couldn't kill her like this. She was twitchy, not nearly as coordinated as she had been. Any kind of fight like this would be pitiful, and beyond cruel.
"... ...Hey kiddo – let's introduce you to the villagers before we set you up with that contract." There would be no final contract. Not with her. "Might do you some good to meet all my minions." If she could tell that his voice, his tone, was being faked, she didn't say anything.
Snatcher pulled the child's Dweller mask - which she'd been wearing almost constantly, in the forest - over her face, pretending to be amused when she yelled at him in that doubled echo-y voice that Snatcher found he now hated, putting on a metaphorical mask of his own as he led her along to the village.
They would let her in this time. She'd feel like just another forest dweller to them now.
Snatcher found himself wondering why that fact hurt so much.