Author's note: Yeah, so John's gonna get super panicky in this chapter near the end, like not-quite-sure-if-it-qualifies-as-a-panic-attack sort of panic. Just warning y'all.


Noise? You don't hear anything other than the sound of water hitting tile—thunk. You drop your shampoo bottle in surprise and it lands right on your toes. Resisting the urge to swear loudly and possibly wake the old couple living in the apartment right next to yours, you instead bite down on one of your knuckles and hop on one foot. You quickly realize how silly you must look and cease your actions; it'll take more than a plastic bottle of strawberry scented soap to get the best of you.

You slide back the glass door and step out of the shower after turning off the water, not bothering to grab a towel (mostly since you don't actually have any on hand right now because you keep forgetting to do the laundry). It's pretty toasty in here anyway thanks to Karkat, and the ability to lounge about entirely naked is one of the best things that come with living on your own. You wipe water from your eyes, snatching your glasses from the bathroom counter and turning when you see a blur of black and white in your peripherals. Leaving the light in the bathroom on, you step out into the main room of your living space which serves as everything but a bedroom and bathroom. There's nothing out of the usual when you look around. Nothing has fallen and Zillyhoo is finally asleep with her head under her wing, sitting atop her cage. Maybe you just imagined it?

Maybe you had imagined the bird-thing too, you think hopefully, nothing more than a particularly bad dream.

No, unfortunately, that had been real enough alright, the painful bruises around your neck could attest to that. You shiver despite the warmth of the apartment.

Walking over to the window, you idly wonder why you aren't feeling as panicked as before. You open the window and lean out; you could have just heard a bird flying into the window. That's happened a few times unfortunately and you are embarrassed to say you cried the first time a bird died that way. You only cried a little though, and it was heartbreaking to hear the poor things weak chirps as you held it dying in your hands. It had flown into the glass and fallen down onto your windowsill with its wing broken, so you had to at least try and comfort it in its final moment. Even though you knew you could catch a disease or something from touching it, you couldn't just leave it alone.

You peer downward towards the alleyway directly below your window, but again, you don't see anything more than a few large puddles on the uneven ground, reflecting the light from inside your open window. Hey, that one was practically a mirror; you could even make out your somewhat distorted reflection peering back at you. And just past it was-

You step back from the window and close it, slowly backing away. You force yourself to move at a leisurely pace as you draw the curtains shut. Your hands shake while you turn on every light in your home and close all the curtains after grabbing a clean pair of underwear. You turn back to the window, waiting for the thing outside to burst in at any moment and finish what it had started. Your heart pounds and your palms grow a little sweaty as the minutes drag on. Nothing happens. You don't feel any better, because, honestly, you were scared to death. He had followed you home and knew where you lived now and it was more likely than not that you'd be dead soon.

You're trembling as you sit down on the couch, contemplating running out of your apartment and down the hall, screaming about the monster that wants to kill you. But you aren't stupid; who in their right mind would believe you? And since it didn't seem to show interest in murdering anybody else, you weren't going to put innocent people in danger no matter how much you wanted to call for help. But then again it had attacked Cronus and his two friends, so you weren't quite sure what to think.

You feel sick. Your breath is just as shaky as your hands, you feel a little dizzy, and you are so terrified that the knot of fear in your stomach physically hurts. You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them, fighting to breathe normally. Hyperventilating will not make anything better, but ohmygodamonster, thisisitimdead. Both of which are fantastic reasons to hyperventilate.

After not moving an inch for at least half an hour and the thing still hasn't come in, you're a bit calmer and pick your phone up off Karkat's note on the table before grabbing it as well, studying the chumhandle for a second then entering it into your phone.

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CB]

EB: hello?

EB: karkat?

EB: this is karkat right?

You wait for a response, anxiously glancing up at the window. Still no sign of the monster. You turn your attention back to the screen of your phone.

CG: FIRST OFF, WHO THE HELL IS THIS. SECONDLY, WHY IN GODS NAME DID YOU FEEL THAT OF ALL THE INFERNAL TIMES TO POSSIBLY HARASS ME, THE ABSOLUTE BEST MOMENT WOULD BE AT THE ASSCRACK OF DAWN?! I COULD HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SLEEP, YOU IGNORAMOUS. A FUCK YOU TO YOU TOO, 'ECTOBIOLOGIST'. THE FUCK KIND OF SHITTY HANDLE EVEN IS THAT.

You were a little thrown off by the answering message and rechecked that you typed Karkat's chumhandle correctly. You are fairly sure you have the right one.

EB: uh this is john.

EB: you know, from the park?

EB: sorry if ive got the wrong handle.

CG: I GUESS I CAN FORGIVE YOU FOR PESTERING ME SO EARLY THEN, THOUGH WHEN I SAID TO DO IT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, I DIDN'T FUCKING MEAN FOR YOU TO LITERALLY CONTACT ME AS SOON AS YOU FOUND THE NOTE.

At least now you know it's actually Karkat you're messaging, not just some random person with a similar chumhandle.

EB: yeah, i guess i just wasn't really thinking about the time.

CG: CLEARLY. FROM YOUR HORRIBLY TIMED MESSAGES I TAKE IT YOU MANAGED NOT TO DIE OF DRUNKEN STUPIDITY.

EB: yeah im fine.

A lie. You feel like puking. You try to appear calm online anyway.

EB: ive just got a killer headache is all, but itll go away.

CG: NO FUCKING SHIT YOU HAVE A HEADACHE. WITH HOW MUCH YOU MUST HAVE DRANK, IM SURPRISED YOU CAN EVEN STAND TO LOOK AT A COMPUTER OR WHATEVER YOU'RE USING.

EB: er, i wasn't drunk. you just caught me at kind of a bad time.

CG: SURE, AND I'M MISS AMERICA. WATCH AS I WAVE TO MY CROWD OF ADORING FANS, HOLDING A BOUQUET WHILE I CALL BULLSHIT. THE ENTIRE COUNTRY IS IN AWE OF MY STUNNING DEDUCTION AND KEEN SKILLS OF OBSERVATION, CHEERING AND THROWING FLOWERS AS I PASS BY.

EB: i really wasn't drunk! im not even legal to drink yet.

CG: IF YOU ARE PASSED OUT IN A PUBLIC PARK AT THREE IN THE MORNING YOU ARE EITHER INTOXICATED, HOMELESS, OR JUST PLAIN STUPID. SOURCES TELL ME YOU WERE A MIXTURE OF OPTION ONE AND THREE. IT'S JUST SCIENCE JOHN.

EB: :P whatever you say.

EB: either way, thanks for getting me home safely.

EB: gotta go, sorry.

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

You figure it's probably for the best if he thinks you were drunk anyway. You really are grateful that Karkat helped you the way he did; upon reflection, you now realize that he was probably the only reason the bird-thing had let you go, albeit temporarily. You really want to check whether or not it's still out there so you can stop glancing at the window every few seconds to assure yourself that the monster isn't coming in, but there is no way you're risking it knowing you saw it. You don't really even want to go outside.

You think you'll just stay in today and watch movies or something, maybe order pizza; you haven't done that in a while. You hear quiet tapping start on your window, just a branch, you tell yourself, despite the fact that there aren't any trees by your window. And that branches don't sound like that. Yep, today you'll just relax (read: avoid having a breakdown in public).

You turn off your phone and toss it onto the cushions to your right. Resting your elbows on your knees, you lean forward and put your head in your hands, eyes squeezed shut as the tapping gets louder. You'll be fine, it's nothing. You grind the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see sparks. The sharp clink, clink, clink of metal against glass finally stops and you let out a small sigh of relief. You look up, uncovering your eyes.

The heating in your apartment kicks back on and warm air whooshes out from the vent below the window, blowing the curtains to the side just in time for you to see a black hand slam loudly into the rain-spattered glass then lazily draw itself upward and out of view, talons screeching across the glass and completely shattering your nerves.

You are fine, you tell yourself over and over as the curtain falls back into place. It's nothing, you are fine.

Oh god, you aren't fine; this is like Texas all over again. The monsters even looked similar, though the old one was so much worse, trapping you and whispering horrible things into your ear then laughing when you tried to flee. You shove the memories away, locking them tight in a compartment in the back of your mind.

"I'm fine," you whisper to yourself as the tapping starts back up again.


Author's Note: Sorry, but I won't be able to update very often as of now, probably once a week, but maybe more. Definitely not abandoning this fic, so don't worry if there's a long pause in updates.