The panging pain in my arm rouses me from the depths of sleep, gritting my teeth and grunting as the pain surges through it, lurching into a sitting position. I cradle my arm in the other, unpained one, teeth grinding against each other, running my hand up and down my fur, squeezing the areas that pulse with pain. Such lingering pain, it would follow me even here? Couldn't have just gotten all of it out of the way when I was awake, could you? Here I was thinking that'd be it.
Fucking pain in the ass, fucking magic. I close my eyes shut and suck in deep breaths of air, anything to soothe the painful feeling that travels up my arm, lingering and building in my shoulder, as if threatening to force its way into my chest, gently digging the tips of my free hand into my fur, kneading at muscle and bone.
Then again, I did stick my arm into a mass of active magic, which probably wasn't the smartest thing to do in retrospect. I could've lost my arm entirely, so I guess it could be worse. The throbbing pain takes far longer than it should to die down, my breathing slowing as the pulses turn to a dull pain before dissipating entirely. My eyelids flicker open, looking down to the limn, clenching and unclenching my fist as I examine it. Looks perfectly okay, none the worse for wear, but that's what I thought before, so who's to say that it won't rear its head again? I suppose that's one hell of a way to wake up, if nothing else.
I look up and around the room, raising an eyebrow as my eyes fall upon the desk. Adrian seems to be asleep there instead of the bed, half of his body dangling off of it, his face and body twitching erratically every so often I shift and push myself off of the bed, paws pressing against the thankfully clean carpet below.
Why does it feel so cold?
I shake off the feeling as best I can, pushing onwards, my arm limply swinging side to side while I stumble over to him. His breathing sounds tense and strained, as if half his throat blocked by something, his chest shuddering as it rises and falls. It looks… kind of uncomfortable, both the position he's sleeping in and the way he's acting while unconscious. Something about it puts me off, a gut feeling that I can't seem to ignore. I sure hope he doesn't get upset from me waking him from his little nap here.
I shift to kneel beside him, lightly wincing as a dull spark of pain zips up and through my arm. That's going to get on my fucking nerves real quick.
"Hey, parasite, get up." I call out to him, spare hand resting on a knee. The ghost shuffles, a soft hissing sound coming from his throat, face morphing into one of discomfort. I purse my lips together, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end, why do I feel so uncomfortable? "Adrian?"
Maybe he just doesn't hear me? I always thought he was a light sleeper, he tends to wake up before me, and I don't think I'm exactly a heavy sleeper. I raise my hand, slowly bringing it closer to his face, lips still set into a tense line. I press my hand against this soft fur, eyes widening in surprise, the wispy fur tickling at my palm and fingers. His spectral form wavers for a moment, the blue lines of his body lightning in both colour and intensity for barely a blink before returning to its original state, as if it's just… readjusted itself. His fur feels soft, the beating of my heart and the nervous stirring in my gut lessening for a brief while, it's an almost welcoming sensation. It feels, rather nice actually, is that a narcissistic thought, because he's a copy of me?
Better yet, why is this happening in the first place? I know I've touched the bastard physically before, when I was dragging him out of the depths of my skull, but I never since then. What's he done to affect himself like this, though? Assuming he's the reason he's like this to begin with, did I do something? I shake my head slightly, praying that it does something to push away the confused thoughts bouncing around in my skull, now's not the time.
"Come on, wake up you little bastard." I mumble to myself, the heat of the curse dying in my throat, doubling the pressure of my hand against his face before dragging it down, clasping his shoulder with a hand and squeezing lightly. I can't exactly say I know what I'm doing, or how I'm meant to go about this, should I just shove him awake? Is that smart-
His eyelids suddenly flare open, wild and widened eyes staring straight into mine, his face contorted into a confused and panicked looking one with a clenched jaw.
"Fuck!" He screeches, lurching upwards and away from me, a shiver running up my spine as my hand passes through his body. I pull away in surprised, a small yelp tearing its way through my throat before stumbling onto two feet, looking up to the ghost. His chest heaves up and down with intense breaths, neck twisting to look around the room with hazy and unfocused eyes. His lips shudder and tremble, the fear that drips off of his body almost feels palpable, a hand raised and pressing against his skull.
"Adrian…?" My voice comes out in a whispery hushed breath, despite my best efforts. I've never seen him so scared before, so terrified, what the fuck happened?
"I, where am I? What's goin- who?" His muttering sounds like little more than confused drivel, and that only fuels the barely contained worry in my chest, the ghost visibly wincing as he clutches at his skull. "Gah!"
Fear of my own clutches at my heart, my throat clogging up as I step towards him, fingers twitching with the desire to hold the man. Is there anything I can do to help him? He looks so confused, fear and confusion continues to contort his into a ghastly alteration of his normally irked look, blue wisps flaring and contracting almost violently. God fucking dammit, I feel like worthless shit, I don't know what's happened, but I want to help. Flickering eyes slowly latch onto me, his heavy breathing slowing down, though still with shaky breaths.
"Zeke? I- We're in the room, right? This is the normal dream room?" He asks with a hasty and hushed voice, his ethereal body shimmering for a moment as he lowers himself onto the desk, a pained looking wince washing briefly washing over his face. The tense feeling lump in my throat continues to clog it up, giving him a slow and deliberate nod as an answer instead, keeping a close eye on him. Normal dream room? What the fuck was he up to? He sighs, a relieved and thankful sounding one, the flare of blue simmering down as his body relaxes. "Thank god for that."
The ghost lets out a soft chuckle, hand sliding from the side of his skull to his face, mashing his palm into it.
"What the hell did you get up to in here? Is something wrong, are you okay?" I force out the question, keeping my voice as level as I can. He doesnt respond for a moment, the sound of his shaky breaths lightening with each passing moment, it looks as if he's just taking his time to catch his breath. Concern still clouds my thoughts and heart, fucking bastard's giving me a heart attack.
"You know how we'- you've been having those little… episodes lately? You know the ones." I hum and nod, lips pursed into a thin line. I know them all too well, it's kind of a bloody pain in the ass. "You remember what I said when it happened the first time, right?"
"That you were going to be thinking about things? Is that what you've been doing all day?" I guess I should've figured that much. I don't think it's been all day, it's hard to tell the time out of here when you can't see the sun, but it's close enough.
"More or less, I've just been going through memories, digging into your head, I thought that might lead me to figuring something out, you know?" I nod, staring at the ghost with a furrowed brow. I think I can understand that, maybe, it'd be worth a try right? "Well, I did a lot of digging, and digging, and I thin- Fuck!"
He grasps at his skull with a hand as his body's jerked upwards, spectral body flickering and spasming erratically. My mouth opens to let out a surprised yell as I step forth, a hand outstretched to grasp at the man, whether or not it'd be a fruitless endeavor doesn't exactly matter in my mind.
"D-don't fucking touch me!" His scream sounds guttural and forced, the spasms only increasing in its intensity. It takes every bit of effort to not run into the man, standing stock still with gritted teeth, arm still twitching with the urge to reach for him. Concern and frustration stirs and tears in my gut, half of me wanting to reach out to try to help him out, the other stammering, begging for the situation to not worsen. I feel worse than helpless, what a shit feeling. It certainly feels like it takes an age for him to relax, the flickering and spasming eventually dying down. He takes in a few deep breaths, taking his hand away from his skull, another wince briefly flashing across his face before standing upright. He doesn't look as bad as before, less panicked and more stalwart, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna shit myself, bastard's scaring me half to death. "Alright, I-I'm fine now, I got that under control."
"And what the fuck is 'that' meant to be, huh?" I don't mean to sound so angry, so huffy, but it certainly comes out that way in my ears. God, my heart feels like it's gonna beat out of my chest.
"Fuck if I know, it just… it was hard to know what was going on, when I was rummaging around your head. Thing's started to meld together, where I was and where I was going, what was real and what wasn't. It was-" He cuts himself off with a grunt, wincing once more, burying the side of his skull into his hand, teeth gritting together for a second. "It was something, that's for fucking sure."
"You really tried going in that deep for me, huh?" I ask, frown crawling its way onto my face as I dig my hands into my pockets, something to try to subdue the urge to grab at the man. He stares down at me, an eyebrow raised as his nose scrunches upwards. Eh? Did I say something?
"I thought that it was needed, so I took it upon myself to dig into your head to try to find a way to fix it. It's not like you could do it, you weren't even aware that there was an issue to begin with cause you're as dense as a brick. I'm being dragged along for the ride, so I might as well try to make it comfortable enough when you're not ramming your skull into things. While I don't like getting involved in stuff that's out there, I can do a fair bit more in here. Here is fine, here just so happens to be rather quiet too, so long as I shut you out long enough." He answers, an almost lecturing tone in his voice. The verbal pokes and jabs aside, he does sound rather… protective, I think,his tone is short and gruff, but caring enough, and it does warm my heart to hear it from him. Maybe I'm just overthinking it, I do that a lot, but still.
Still, maybe I could take the edge off of him, just so he could relax a little bit.
"Awh, I knew you always cared!" I pipe up after a moment, the edges of my lips curling up into a grin as I stare up to him.
"God I fucking hate you." He growls, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, his lips dipping down into a frown. "You're a fucking pain in the ass, you know that?"
"You've probably mentioned it once or twice."
"I'll mention it more then, just to drive the point home. Are you gonna listen to what I got to say or not?" Despite the frown that still lingers on his face, he certainly doesn't look as tense as before, and the ethereal wisps that flings itself off of his body doesn't seem nearly as erratic. Whether or not he realises it, I'll chalk it up as a good mission accomplished.
"Of course, I value your thoughts on things after all." I continue to smile, though it's a smug feeling one, an eyebrow of his raising once more. I can't help but chuckle a little as he stares, smile drooping ever so slightly. "Seriously though, you went out of your way to try to find a way to help, the least I can do is hear you out."
He rolls his eyes and lowers himself onto the desk, fingers drumming against the wooden top idly.
"Whatever's going on in your head is something too far for me to even try to find out, not without risk anyways. Granted, there's probably going to be some risk with what we're doing one way or another, but doing it needlessly just invites shit going south. But just cause I can't get that far into your head doesn't mean you can't." He explains, eyes glued to mine as he continues to tap his fingers onto the table, the dull drumming echoing in my ears.
"You want me to get back in there?" I ask in turn, my sight moving from the ghost to the cabinet. It's been a while since I've tried to crack that open, hasn't it? Hell, the last few times I've met with the cold woman and the little buddy, I just kind of skipped the process entirely. I wonder, is that because they have the capability of dragging me there, or is there another reason? How long has it been since I've seen them, is time distorted in here?
Fucking dreams, I don't understand anything, it just couldn't be simple. I turn my eyes back to the ghost, one of his hands cupping his jaw, a finger tapping against his cheek in thought.
"It's a theory for a potential fix, potential being the keyword there. I don't have any way to confirm whether or not it'd work, it's just something that I can't do." He continues with a shrug, lips pressed into a tense line. He has such a serious look on his face, twisting into a thoughtful expression. "That being said, I'm not going to straight up tell you to do it right now, it's just an idea, nothing more."
I'm not exactly thrilled at the thought of heading back in there, who's to say that I'd even make it? I could just end up helplessly floating around in that void, smothered by the chill. A shiver runs up my spine as my mind recalls the feeling, bringing a hand to my face to gently bite at it does little to distract myself from it, a lesser limbo doesn't mean that it's not a dreadful feeling.
I don't want to go back there. But I don't want to lead myself to visiting that place any earlier than I have to.
"Do you really think that'd work?" I ask, my eyes flickering between him and the cabinet.
"With what I know so far, I guess so. All I know so far is that it runs real deep, further than what I can do to hel- what are you doing?" I ignore the ghost's bout of yelling while I kneel beside the cabinet, grabbing the handle and wrenching it to the side. The sound of rusted grinds against my ears as it slides open, the black sludge hidden within bubbles while tendrils writhe, grasping at the sides of its container before turning into dark smoky wisps, fading into the air. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm following your advice, what's it look like I'm doing?" I look up to him with a raised brow, a side of my lip twitching upwards. The man lets out a muffled groan, his expression hidden behind his hand while he mashes his face into it. .
"Do you have selective hearing or something? I specifically said that it was an idea and nothing more, that's it, not to actually do it!"
"It's the best idea we have so far."
"It's the only idea we have because I haven't had much time to think on it, if you'd just give me mor- you're not even listening to me, are you?" He questions me with a huff, stiffly crossing his arms. The tips of my fingers feel cold, the feeling of the black sludge isn't a very comfortable one, but at least flicking at it passed the time when he was talking. It can't even leave a mess outside of its little box, too, the sludge turns into those dark wisps before disappearing entirely.
"I am listening to you-"
"You've already made up your mind on what you want to do, haven't you?"
"Hole in one, Adrian." I make a clicking noise with my tongue as I tear my hand from the cabinet, shooting him with a finger gun and a wink.
"God you're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
"I think you said that not too long ago, actually."
"Just, why? Why are you so eager to jump in headfirst with the first idea that I think of?"
"Because I trust your judgement when it comes to things like this. I know we have… conflicting personalities sometimes, but you do have our best interests at heart when it comes to staying alive." I explain, idly leaning against the desk. He groans aloud, burying his face into his hand again, his mumbling incomprehensibly muffled by it. "Besides, you went through a lot of effort to bring what you do know to light, the least I could do is try to act on it."
He remains quiet for a while, face still buried in his hands. I occupy myself with flicking at the black thing in front of me, the black substance wirthing every so often. I mean what I say, and I hope he believes it.
"You stupid fucking- fine, alright? Just don't get yourself lost in there, okay?" He finally says with a sigh, the hands he once buried his face into now rubbing at his temples. The look on his face seems like a worried one, lips pressing into a thin line. "Please, please fucking promise me that, promise me that you won't fuck up get yourself killed. For all we know, death in there means death in reality too, and I'd rather you not test that."
"Adria-"
"I can't follow you, I can't help you, you're doing to be alone in there." His words are hurried and his voice tense, a shaky hand raised to press against his lips as his eyes dart from me to the cabinet. It doesn't take a genius to realise that he's worried, his body stiff and twitching, but it's still a sobering thing to see
His words echo in my mind, I'll be alone, completely and utterly alone, unless luck somehow swings my way. I have trust in the man, and I don't break promises.
"I promise." I finally respond, nodding tersely before holding a hand out to him, letting it hang between us. His body deflates a little bit, a soft sigh coming out of his lips, though he looks over my hand with a furrowed brow.
"You know that's probably not gonna work, right?" He asks, looking down to me. I keep my hand in the air regardless, nudging it ever closer to him. He sighs, but I can see the edges of his lips curl up into a barely visible smile, his body shifting as he lowers himself. He reaches out to me with a hand of his own, hesitating for a moment before shoving it into mine. A shiver runs up my spine as it passes harmlessly through mine. "I told you."
"Hey, it's the thought that counts, right?"
"Dumbass." He says with a scoff, rolling his eyes before returning to the desk, taking a seat upon it. He gives me a nod, though, a short and tense one that I return. I take in a deep sigh and focus, looking down into the void… thing.
I don't know what else to compare it to but sludge and dark, it doesn't exactly seem capable or willing to hold a more physical form besides the black tendrils that occasionally grip at the edges of its cage.
The longer I look into it, the more it seems to beckon to me, a cold invitation. Part of me hesitates, worry stirring and clutching at my throat, but I try my best to push down the feeling. I push my hands into the muck, the dark creeping and curling at my arms, the tugging motions that the tendrils seem to make doesn't affect me, physically anyways.
Might as well go all in. I take in another deep sigh before forcing my head into the void, black consuming my vision.
….
This.
This was a mistake.
The cold scratches at the back of my mind, it's already surrounding me, so there's not much left to do but get in. I don't like the feeling. I grit my teeth and try to bat it away as best I can, but there's not much else to do in this place. I don't even know what I'm looking for, only that my goal's to find something to help me, whatever that may be,
But I'm tired, so, so tired. I just want to sleep, coming here was a mistake, being alive is a mistake. I really shouldn't be, what's dead should stay dead.
And here I come to fuck it all up, I tend to be good at that at least. I guess I deserve it, I asked for it after all. It's, god, it's just so easy to let all this flow into my head, it'd just be so easy to close my eyes.
But I can't, I've made promises. As much as I want to stop here, I know that it isn't right, no matter how much this place wants me to leave myself here. Because that's what this place is, isn't it? This is just my head, that's all. Granted, I can't imagine it's exactly normal, but it is what it is.
The chill of the void doesn't seem particularly happy, the cold that surrounds me like an awful blanket digs into my limbs, it crawls and scratches in my veins. I grit my teeth, glaring into the void with blurred vision, even as it batters at the back of my skull.
I have people to return to, and warmth to enjoy. I assume this place is smart enough to understand me in some way at least, it better understand how pigheaded I can be.
So hurry up and let me in, would you? You're in the way.
…
The pounding in my skull yanks me from the dark depths back into consciousness, wincing as I press my hand against the afflicted area, blinking away the dark spots that cloud my vision. I look up and around with darting eyes, blank stone walls surround me bathed in an unnatural monochrome light, a looming presence that almost feels suffocating to be stuck between. The ground beneath me feels like cold and unwelcome stone, my back pressing against an uncomfortable wall. There's a singular exit at the far end out of this… alleyway, I assume, given the general look of it all. It's clear of any trash that I'd expect of an alleyway, a sterile looking place.
So, I actually ended up here, huh? I can't say that I actually expected that. I expected the worst to happen, I feared the worst. Taunting… whatever the fuck this place seems to be probably wasn't the brightest idea, but it worked for now at least. I sigh to myself and force myself onto two feet, green cloth fluttering below me. Wait, green? I pause for a moment and look over myself, humming aloud as I run my gloved hand across the insides of my cloak. Where'd all this come from? I didn't notice that I was even wearing it, and I certainly didn't jump into the void while wearing it. Maybe it's a gift from my own head, seeing as I wear this a lot, and I value it even more so. Hell if I know, but I'm certainly not gonna complain about it, the familiar weight soothes my heart, if nothing else. I dig my hands into my pockets, quickly rummaging through them, just in case. My left hand finds nothing, though my right finds purchase in something, fingers brush against something hard and smooth. I clutch at the thing, curling my fingers around it almost possessively before pulling it out of my pocket, quickly looking over it. The blue crystal stands out in front of brown and grey, the weight a familiar feeling one.
I even have my little mana crystal here too, huh? I continue to idly hum as I bring it up to eye view, examining closer. A picture perfect copy of the one in the real world, though that's not exactly a surprise given everything else. Would this little rock properly work here, though? It's not like I haven't used something similar to magic, though maybe being out of my body had something to do with that. A shiver runs up my spine as the memory flashes in my mind, as well as the feeling. It didn't feel good to be out of control of my own body, let alone it be a literal out of body experience, but it was a needed discomfort. Could've been a lot worse in the end.
Not that I wouldn't do it again, should the little buddy want it. I can put up with it for a while so it could feel again. All this does is just give me even more questions to throw onto the pile, I hope that I can answer this shit some day.
I wonder, does this mean that I could use magic while being in control of my body? Despite all this being a dream, this seems to have some semblance of how things would behave in reality, maybe I could use what I learn here in real life, too? I roll the crystal in my fingers before honing my focus on it. It takes a moment of digging, but something seems to spark inside the stone, the flickering tugging at something in my chest. I squint and focus on that pulling, the blue spark inside igniting for a moment.
Heat flares up and swallows my hand, a poorly stifled screech of pain tearing through my throat as I drop the stone, the sound of it clashing with the stone below echoes in the alleyway alongside the scream, clutching and squeezing at my hand. I squeeze my eyes shut as I take in ragged breaths, my hand feels as if it's on fucking fire, one that scratchines and gnaws just underneath my flesh, kneading at it does little to nothing to soothe it. The pain eventually subsides, eyelids flickering open, staring at the hand through blurred vision.
Of course it'd follow me in here too, of course it fucking would, I just can't catch a break with this magic bullshit, can I? I take in a deep and shaky breath, slowly flexing my hand with a grimace. Clench and unclench, slow and deep breaths Zeke, don't aggravate the pain and you'll be fine. I guess I should've expected that, but at the same time, I didn't think that my own magic would ruin my arm like that. Fuck, can I even use magic like this? Maybe I could just try to not use my arm as a catalyst, could I divert it elsewhere, do I need to use a limb? Would that even work? Shit, I don't know enough about magic to work this out without personally doing it, and I don't want to risk it.
Gods, I hope that I'm not forced to use magic, what if I have to get into a fight with something, assuming that they're still around? I could just pray that it doesn't come to that, I could just keep running away. Then again, this place is a fucking nightmare, odds are that it's not going to end well. It doesn't help that I don't really know what I'm looking for...
Whatever, I'll just roll the dice and pray. I might as well get going, I won't get anywhere if I don't move. I take in a deep breath and push onwards,leaning down to scoop up the crystal, taking special care to make sure it's with my left arm, the cold stone that my paws press against force a shiver up my spine. I walk slowly, my ears twitching every so often to catch anything around me. Something about all this sets my nerves on end, the feeling of paranoia scratching at the back of my skull, who knows if my screaming caught the attention of something wandering about, but I must push through. I hum to myself, pausing for a moment to lean against a wall, rummaging through my skull for an idea, something to strive towards, to keep my mind on track.
This place is already an abomination, a nightmare, there's only one place where I'd feel safe enough to try to get information about what the fuck's going on. I should head there then, that's smart right? I just need to find my bearings somehow, maybe I could try to get on top of a roof? The houses around here aren't in the best condition, I can't imagine that there's a lock on one of these doors, so it wouldn't be hard to get in. Getting to the roof would be the issue, a problem that I've no answer to, unless the house allows easy passageway to it anyways.
I wish I could've noticed the issue earlier, would've saved me quite a bit of trouble, but that's assuming that there'd be the chance to nip the problem in the bud. I can't even be mad at the cold woman for this, I must've told her that everything was fine the last time we spoke, right? God I'm a fucking dumb ass sometimes.
I throw a look over my shoulder for a second, a small frown forcing its way onto my face as I look over at the end of the alley way. I'm all alone in this nightmare, no little buddy, no Adrian. Nothing.
God I loathe the feeling, I held onto some hope that someone would be beside me. But I have to push on.
I force myself to look away from the empty end, finally stepping out of the alleyway and into the street. The street splits in two ways, left and right, the place opposite to me an empty and seemingly endless void. Hm, I'd like to guess where I am, but I don't have too much information just yet, I assume that I'm on an edge of town at the moment though.
I'm not sure if it matters which way I go, so I head left, passing down the street, looking inside the ruined houses as I pass them. Some don't look like they can be entered at all, the doorway blocked off by debris or crumbled in on itself entirely, overgrown greenery clutching at the stone. Even the green is coloured a dead grey here.
The houses that look more promising doesn't give me much to work on closer inspection, whether it be because the stairs that should lead somewhere are caved in on itself from, or just doesn't exist at all.
Frustration brews in my chest, clutching at my cloak for some comfort, letting out a deep sigh before continuing onwards. The street here looks as if they go on forever and ever, the houses seemingly build into one another. Odds are that I could break down a wall and walk into the next house, and that wouldn't be too hard given the shaky state that these things seem to be in.
The nerves in the back of my skull scratch at my mind, shaking my head to rid myself of it does nothing. The more I try to ignore it, the more oppressive it feels, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. The cold feeling in my pit stirs, anxiousness putting a hurried pep in my step as I pick up the pace, from a steady walk to a hurried jog. Sweat beads on my forehead, heart pounding in my chest as a cold wave washes over me.
Somethings wrong, even though I can't see it. It feels as if something's breathing down my neck. My legs burn as I force myself into a run, a dead wind brushing over my face as I hastily look over the houses.
Ruined, collapsed, doesn't have stairs to begin with, that one doesn't even have a door. Is this place mocking me, taunting me like I did to it? Both my ears twitch as a scraping noise fills the air, a sharp knife through the silence. I don't know what's going on, but I'm out of time.
My claws scratch against the stone as I slide to a stop, darting into a nearby house, as monochrome and faceless as any other. I press my back against the wall, hidden away from the unnatural light and in the dark. I barely breath, waiting for the feeling to pass, for my frazzled nerves to soothe itself. It feels as if an age passes, waiting in the dark while silence rings in my ears, anticipation building in my throat. Is there nothing really there, and all this just something that I've thought up in my own head? This could just be another way for this place to mock me, to play on my paranoia?
The slight relief that fills my heart is a brief one, fear seizing my chest as… something steps forth into the house, human in stature, inhuman in its appearance. It's lower half covered by a ragged looking robe, the deep brown cloth stiff and unmoving even as it shuffles further into the house, it's chest looks like a humans, although it looks emasculated and shriveled to the point where its rib cage sticks outwards, poking through thin and pale flesh. It drags around a cane to lean on, a plain grey thing with a jagged tip that scratches and scrapes against the wooden floor, the head of it swallowed by a bony fist, the other arm hanging free by its side. My lungs burn, vision blurring as I stare at it with widened eyes. Does it see me? Oh god, please don't see me, please no.
It stands in the middle of the room, its head tilted to look down at the floor. It stands still for what feels like far too long before shuddering, the sound of cracking bones echoing throughout the room alongside it's rasping. It lingers for a while longer before twisting around, jabbing the tip of its cane into the ground, the force reverberating throughout the wooden floor, running up my paws and legs.
There's nothing more to it's face than a pure while skull, the edge of its face jutting out like a muzzle. It lacks eye sockets, though its jaws seem glued shut, pressing further into the wall and away from the thing as it silently passes by me. I blink, not trusting myself to breath, even as the burning in my lungs intensifies. Did, did it not see me? Does it go off of sound or something, is it's lack of eyes actually detrimental to its sight?
I feel lightheaded, my lungs begging for air, I have to breathe, but I can't run the risk of it finding me again. I let out a shaky breath, keeping it low and slow, each passing moment as I do so a relief to my chest. I swallow the building spittle in my mouth and lean out of my hiding spot, looking out into the street. The monster's gone, or at least, I can't see or hear it from here, as if it disappeared into thin air. The only remnants of it that it's left behind being the scratches, in stone, wood and mind.
My legs tremble as I silently push myself off of the wall, keeping an eye on the outside before hurriedly pushing further into the house. I pray to whatever god's above that it doesn't return, or that it finds me again. There could be more, there's always going to be more, bloody nightmare.
I have to keep moving, further away from whatever that thing was. It's not exactly a spacious little room, silently cursing to myself whenever I even faintly brush past a chair or table. The stairs are in a terribly poor condition, most of it splintered and utterly fucked with nails jutting outwards. But it's the best I've seen so far.
Lucky me. I walk up the piece of shit stairs, taking care not to step on anything too sharp, each step forward is a victory in this case. At least the stairs aren't the squeaky kind, small blessings. I resist the urge to cheer as I finally step off of it, truly the most dangerous of trials that's been overcome so far.
God I hate this place. I follow the hallway into the only room that it leads to, one straight ahead. I assume to once be a bedroom, judging from the remains of both the bedframe and mattress strewn about, bathed in grey light. I stumble further into the room, eyes drawn by the light that leaks in through the crumbled wall. It's crumbled in on itself, rock and debris stacked on top of one another, though the rest of the room certainly seems stable enough.
Another stroke of good luck? Now I'm just being spoiled.
I guess that I could use this to get to the rooftop, assuming that the floor doesn't feel the urge to fall in on itself. Even with the rocky pathway, it doesn't come close to reaching the ceiling, not enough for me to grab and heave myself up anyways. I look over the opening a little bit more, pursing my lips together. I think I could drag myself on top of it, assuming that I don't fall off myself, even if it seems thick enough to stand upon, and then push myself onto the roof. I guess that could work.
Even then, that relies on me hoping that the wall's stable enough to handle my weight. It might look thick, but that doesn't mean luck wont swerve the other way to fuck me. I could probably move the wood laying about as a stepping stone to help elevate me to the point where I could grab the ledge.
I tear my eyes from the exit and examine the wood instead, weighing it in a hand before gently knocking a knuckle against it. It's a weighty wood, solid and strong, and it doesn't seem to be rotting away. That still brings about the worry that I might make too much noise, but that's a risk I'll have to take.
It's a long process to grab and drag the wood to the wall, though it's a process that I deliberately take slowly, taking care to disturb the rock as little as possible. Any loud noise could spell my end, and I'd rather not act under the assumption that the monster's gone. I'm half tempted to use magic to help with it, it's a strong lure.
I drop the final plank of wood onto the pile, leaning on it and letting out a deep sigh, wiping away the sweat on my forehead. I'd rather not risk it, on the off chance that it fucks up my arm again and brings attention to me. I step onto the wooden pile, gritting my teeth together as it wobbles beneath me before reaching up and grabbing the ledge. I want to get off of the unstable pile of shit as soon as possible, at least it was useful as a stepping stone.
My arms burn as I pull myself up, stifling my grunting as much as I can while I do so, finally managing to pull my chest onto the ledge. I look over it, just for a moment.
And my heart stops. I stare down to the street with unblinking eyes, swaths of those feral looking monsters scurrying down the street. The screech to one another, their claws digging into the floor below, occasionally swiping at the walls and each other.
Ah, fuck.
Authors note: Man, this one took a while to come out, huh? No real reason for it, I just got distracted, sorry about the delay.