AN:

*click*

*This is a pre-recorded message from-

"Shut up, already. Okay? Seriously not up for this.

Hello everyone, it's Crow… I'm just… ugh…

Let's go over the last two-to-three weeks, shall we?

Before Monday: getting back into the "swing of things" after Spring Break and studying

Monday: Exam (got a B though through the curve [at 53% and still getting a pretty solid B, you can imagine how hard the course is])

Tuesday: Preparations for course selection and Homework

And I feel like I need to put this in. My version of "homework" is where it becomes so much easier when you assume an ideal isentropic turbine in a closed, circulating coolant system with an ideal, isentropic pump with negligible work input. Then, apply the conditions given the coolant's Temperature/Entropy chart with pressure and enthalpy gradients along a liquid/vapor saturation curve. Knowing this, determine the "quality" of the vapor produced (aka, the molar fraction concentration in vapor form).

No joke. These are actual words. This is an actual situation. This was my homework last week. And this was the easy one that took less than ten minutes to solve.

Wednesday: Fall course selection (and subsequent tragedy from conflicting and blocked-out courses)

Thursday: resolving the course selection dilemma with three different counselors I had to run around to meet

Friday: Internship interview a few miles out of town. I took a cab; $17 there and $17 back!

Friday afternoon: body shuts down… literally. I napped for 3 hours without realizing it. And now, the stress and sleeplessness is catching up and I am currently coughing up phlegm and occasionally something that tastes kind of coppery while desperately wanting to sleep away the week.

Still, reviews and PMs are welcome and help alleviate my illness and stress. Seriously, the two reviews I got last Friday were the ones that got me going this weekend to get back to updating.

AN: Warning, this chapter contains a vivid description of being in an enclosed space and an induced panic attack along with descriptions of nightmarish/uncomfortable situations. Just in case you're susceptible to panic attacks.

-Crow

P.S. On the upside, this is the last OC chapter before we get back into the real story.

P.P.S. How did I know I was going to have a really bad week when I recorded this? … Magic!

*End of Recording*

*click*

...= Nick's Story =...

I stumbled along the road. It was one of those country roads where every few feet had a new pot hole or uneven crack. Plus the fact that it was pitch black didn't help.

Oh yeah, and the fact that I was dead about an hour or so ago. That's also disorienting. I don't recommend it really... well actually I don't recommend whatever happened to me.

So, a little about myself, my name's Nikolaus, but I go by "Nick". Yeah, I added a "c" to the nickname; sue me. I don't remember my last name. Just the first.

My parents named me after some entomologist. For those who don't want to Google it, it's a guy who studies bugs. That's actually what they do. Both my parents work at zoos and nature preserves maintaining insect populations and insect habitats.

Guess it runs in the family. I mean, I'm a bug freak too. Most families had pet dogs or cats when their kid was 3; I had a pet tarantula and an enormous horned beetle. Ever since, I've been collecting insects and I'm pretty good, too.

My room frequently rotated through habitats from homemade ant-farms, several terrariums, and even a specialized compost bin for decomposers. Most boys grew out of their bug obsession after, like, their 8th birthday, but my parents were never too afraid of the creepy crawly kinds of things, so they never tried pushing me away. Now, I'm a proud 13 year old teen who's still got a knack for bugs.

Yep. A real "chick magnet", like my dad says.

We lived all over the place, really wherever the job opportunities took us. Sometimes we'd move to New York to maintain a zoo habitat, then the next month down to Florida at a nature preserve in the Glades, then the Mid-West to analyze honeybee populations.

Our last move brought us here to Minnesota... at least, I think that's where I am.

I stumbled over another pothole.

Oh, yeah. I got sidetracked. Back to the present scene; I am walking along a run-down country road covered in dirt in my good Sunday suit and tie. My head is pounding. My stomach feels nauseous. It's dark and there hasn't been a single car this entire time.

But still, let's go back to how this all started.

We moved to this state about a month ago. It was in this really forested area. A result of moving actually holds a small stipulation that I have to release any native insect life I've caught or studied. It's like that Emerald Ash Bore thing a few years back. States are pretty upset whenever someone brings in an invasive or foreign species, even as pets. They don't want to risk it getting out and breeding.

Overall, I didn't mind too much. I took pictures and notes and stuff of each of the habitats and insects before letting them out and cleaning the terrarium. That's why I said I rotate through these habitats. New habitats for a new move.

So, about a week after settling in to our new home, I got to start looking around. It was summer, so school's not in session. I got my bearings with the town's layout; post office, a couple grocery stores and convenience stores, a guns and ammo shop, a tackle shop, a camping shop. Yeah, turns out Minnesota is a pretty popular camping destination.

Anyways, the entire "tour" took about one afternoon. There wasn't much interesting, so I set my sights on something I'd been excited for since we got here.

The woods.

Being in the middle of nowhere has the perk of being close to nature preserves, forests, plains, and even corn fields where species thrive with less human interference and pest exterminators than in Suburbia.

I got home that evening pretty quickly after that.

"Hey, mom, I'm going out!" I shouted towards the kitchen.

My mother's voice was muffled by the distance, "Alright, Dinner's at 6 tonight!"

"Okay!" I was already in my room, packing a backpack with some miniature terrariums, a logbook, an insect species guide, a flashlight, and a couple of granola bars. I slung a fine-mesh net over my shoulder and bounded out of the house.

I ran into the forest, making sure to keep an eye out for my house so I didn't get lost. Not that it's a problem with me. I… actually, we'll get back to that one.

I found a good rotting stump and put on my mom's gardening gloves. I peeled back the bark carefully and watched the virtual eruption of a thousand decomposer insects rushing around from the intrusion. A lot of sow bugs, a couple earwigs, a bunch of beetles and slugs, an entire colony of ants and their white, wormy babies. Not much interesting.

I picked up one of the slugs using a toothpick, careful not to impale it or anything. It just slimed along the end of it moving around like a living booger.

I shone a flashlight on it. It was a pale, yellow/brown slug about 3/4 of an inch long. Just a common garden slug. I set it down on the stump and stuck around a few minutes watching it slime away.

I continued the expedition, but so far I'd limited my evening/dusk search to a less in-depth search of the nearby woods. Nothing stood out, it was all just the same common pests you'd find anywhere.

Dusk started setting in. I glanced down at my watch. 6:15.

"Shit!" I exclaimed.

I hoisted my backpack and ran back the direction I thought I'd gone. After just a minute or two of running I realized that this stump looked just like that stump which resembled that stump. Great.

Remember how I said I didn't get lost, well I didn't lie.

I walked over to a tree and picked up a pretty straight stick. I ran my hand along the length, ripping off the smaller offshoot branches as I went until I had a relatively smooth stick.

I closed my eyes and held out the stick in front of me. For a few minutes I just heard the chirping of some crickets coming out (also not worth catching), then I felt the stick itself. I focused on home and what our new house looked like. The stick seemed to have a tiny pull on the end of it. Like a magnet giving an invisible, but present pull towards it.

I could also "see" a small trail being channeled from both my hands through the stick and out the end, pointing towards home. It was like a long strand of yarn spun from blue, wispy light guiding me along. I couldn't do much else with the light. It always felt weak or blocked off for some reason. I felt conflicted on that.

It felt like something powerful that was just beyond my grasp, but was too weak to really do much more than this dowsing rod trick. Still, it was handy. Anywhere I wanted to go I could use that dowsing rod trick to get there.

I followed the string of light over stumps and fallen logs and, sure enough, my new house started peeking through the trees and I got to the front door in no time flat.

"Nikolaus!"

I cringed. Full pronunciation. Bad news.

Anyways, I don't need to remember the scolding she gave me nor the take-out Tai food we got (though, the mango chicken was pretty good).

The main event happened as I was putting away my stuff from the expedition. I slung off my gear and sat at my desk chair. The Internet wasn't up yet, so that was out. Maybe I could sketch some insects.

I wasn't good, but it's what entomologists do.

I picked up a clean, white sheet of paper and a new pen. I flipped on the light on my desk to work by. I thought about the many species and subspecies and finally one came to mind. I set down my pencil tip on the smooth surface-

*blink*

-and now stared at the pitch darkness all around me.

"Nick! The fuse shorted again! Do you know where your father keeps the spares?!" My mom called up. The fuses are from the old house and have been on the fritz. Mom's calling an electrician sometime next week. Dad was off at the preserve right now.

"I'll do it!" I shouted back. I flipped on my phone's light and walked down the stairs. My mom had already turned her flashlight on and was lighting a candle.

I headed downstairs to the cellar. It was cold and damp like any other cellar out here. I pulled a small box labeled "fuses" from the shelf.

I ambled around the basement, shining my flashlight over the clutter we brought along mingling with clutter that was already there. After five minutes, I called up, "Mom! Where's the fusebox?!"

"The what?!"

"The fusebox! For the fuses!"

"I know it's down there! Just move some boxes around!"

"Alright!"

Yep. That's the main mode of communication in our house. I've met some people who think it's rude to do that, but we know it's just a convenience that we don't mind as a family.

I continued searching through the boxes, occasionally shuddering at some rat crap hidden away. Eventually, I noticed a door that got hidden behind a few old supply boxes.

I shoved them over as a unit and pulled the door open. Shining my flashlight in, I first noticed the large, gray box on the cover. The second thing I noticed was a decent sized beetle.

Go figures, I notice the beetle, but my interest was piqued. I'd never seen an insect like it before.

It was a black beetle, the kind with a shiny exoskeleton. It was slender like a cockroach, but not shaped like one. Finally, it had a small, red pattern on its back.

I backed away slowly, the insect just clicking occasionally. I quietly ran back upstairs and down, telling my mom that I'd found a cool bug. I could hear the eye-roll from the kitchen, but she let me run up, grab a jar, and run back down.

The beetle was still in the exact spot I left it in. I slowly crept forward

I just-

-had-

-to-

*clap*

"Gotcha!"

I trapped the little guy in the jar and slid a paper underneath. It didn't struggle as much as I'd expect, it just sort of sat there, staring at me whenever I'd turn it to try to get a better look.

I set the capped jar to the side and fixed the fuses.

My mom called down and confirmed that the lights were back on. I picked up my jar and brought it along with me.

Jogging upstairs, I set my catch next to my desk and turned on a white fluorescent. The bug kept swiveling to stare at me, but I made out more of the markings. They were intricate to say the least and stood out bright against the smooth, black surface before. Unlike most beetle patterns, it wasn't so much "spotty" as deliberately in a skull-shape.

I opened my reference texts and began leafing through all known beetle species. None of them really matched the description for Minnesota insects. I looked further outward for neighboring states. Then the entire USA. Then I just tried everywhere in the world.

Nothing came up.

I couldn't believe it! I was way too excited! A never-before-seen beetle in my own house! I'd name it and everything!

Oh, Jeez, okay… calm down… calm down… what does a 13 year old do when he finds out something new?

"Mom!"

…

Huh, I would've thought 'sequester it in my room' was the route I'd take. You know, what most teens my age do? Great, now I feel like a momma's boy or something.

I ran down the stairs, my hand capping the jar with the bug. Names were already running through my head. "The Niko Beetle". "The Red Death". "The Ninja Bug".

"Mom! Mom! Mom! Lookatit!" I shouted pushing the jar in her field of vision over the book she was reading.

She flinched backwards and blinked as she adjusted on the tiny being in the jar. The beetle scuttled towards her, twitching its antennae before turning back to me. "What am I looking at here, sweetie?"

"A bug I found by the fusebox!" I exclaimed excitedly. "I checked all of my textbooks, it's nowhere!"

She gave me that 'parent' smirk, "Well, we'll see about it and I'll lend you some of my other, more extensive textbooks. Sweetie, I know it's exciting. Believe me, when I was 8 I found a beautiful butterfly that I thought was a new species and it turned out to be an invasive gypsy moth. I doubt you'll find a new species in a house out here." She handed me back the jar, returning to the paperwork in front of her.

"But it's really something new, mom!" I argued.

"Honey, it's been a long day, alright?" She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Let's just go to bed and deal with it in the morning, alright?"

I grumbled, but headed upstairs. I dropped the jar off on top of my dresser, deciding to build a terrarium for it tomorrow and seeing if there were any more like it.

I settled into the covers and continued mulling over my options for a name.

I didn't hear the tiny clicking of the beetle eating through the plastic jar lid.

I woke up irritably.

My clock told me it was almost midnight. I tiredly blinked and looked around the dark room, only the streetlight casting some illumination through the windows.

I tried to identify what exactly woke me-

"Ow."

I couldn't help the small exclamation as my arm stung.

I looked down and saw the small beetle was on my forearm. In front of it was a red, swollen bite mark that still throbbed painfully.

"Hey, you!"

The beetle looked at me, or at least I think it did. It tilted its body so the head faced me more, then it immediately dove down and bit me with its pincers again.

Angry, I swatted the guy off and saw it land on the floor upside down before scrambling back to its stomach and scuttling in a circle.

I examined my arm and-

Oh my god!

It's happened once or twice where I fall asleep on my arm really weirdly and cut off all circulation to the point that my arm loses all feeling. It's even gotten to the point where my arm loses all functionality for a while. It just hangs off of me like a limp limb.

My arm had two red bite marks on the forearm and I couldn't feel a thing below it. My hand loosely hung on the wrist and flopped around as I turned it. Suddenly, my elbow gave out as well and hung as loosely as the rest!

The numbing feeling continued crawling up my arm!

I panicked and sat in my bed trying desperately to process this whole mess. It has to be a nightmare! It's gotta be!

A pinch on my leg made me notice that the stupid beetle had climbed back onto the bed and managed to get my calf muscle! I could already feel my toes and ankles going numb.

I dove out of the covers and started limping over to the door, only to crash to the floor as my knee gave out. Crawling with one arm is tedious and slow, but I could already feel whatever freaky venom the beetle injected loosening my shoulder.

"Mom." I croaked out painfully. My throat seemed dry and tight. I guessed the venom had circulated there quicker. "Dad."

By now, the poison reached both legs and I couldn't feel anything below my waist. I flailed my one good arm trying desperately to keep going. Keep crawling. Keep moving. Get help! Get-

*pinch*

My entire body collapsed as the small twinge on my neck spread like wildfire.

Ohgodohgodohgodohgod!

The tiny beetle skittered past my ear and I felt its tiny legs padding against my cheek. It got to my loose jaw and slowly pried my lips apart. I could only breathe in panic as the disgusting thing wriggled its way past my teeth and brushed against my tonsils.

I could feel the thing maneuvering down my esophagus and was prevented from coughing by the venom when it started moving through my trachea!

It's a nightmare! It's not real!

It's a nightmare! It's not real!

It's a nightmare! It's not real!

It's a nightmare! It's not real!

That mantra, over and over in my head, didn't do much to help alleviate the tension, the anxiety, the just-plain "ew" cringe-worthy pain!

I don't know how, but it seemed like it latched itself onto my heart, like some kind of leech. That wasn't even anatomically possible!

It sounds ridiculous, but I felt my body rejecting me! I felt like I was literally being forced out of my own head and the skittering, scuttling insect was pushing its way in like a tumor. If I had to put an analogy to it, it was like a glowing, red dye was slowly working its way through my blood and nerves, inching along the intricate pathways outwards from the center.

The venom started causing my brain to fog over, feeling more like mushy pudding than anything else. Give up, a voice commanded. It was so much easier to just let go.

To just give in to the nice voice.

To just die…

...

No!

I refuse to die! I won't let this happen. It took every ounce of willpower I had, but it was worth it! Slowly the mind-fog began pulling away. I found the bug was starting to take over my limbs with little success at this point. The insect was genuinely surprised I made it back.

I felt it skitter from my vital organ, trying to maintain control and push me back to the Fog. You're not the boss of me! I willed my voice out as far as it would go. My soul felt revitalized and almost glowed with something.

I won't let you take over me! I shouted angrily.

The pulse of energy started in my head and began flowing down my body like blood in veins, a blue glow combating the red and pushing it back. That once-weak blue energy now seemed almost quadrupled in strength and actually felt like a physical, liquid energy! The bug scrambled anxiously while maintaining its grip on my heart, but found it had nowhere to go as the streams of energy closed in around it and began congregating at the organ.

The blue light finally took over my heart and the insect convulsed as the blue forced its way into it. The entire bug glowed an icy crystalline blue and stilled. It was still embedded in there, but it was silenced. Dead.

The blue light faded from its initial strong glow, but was reduced to a constant, dull glow traveling like extra blood vessels along my body. It didn't fade away completely. I felt kind of "whole".

I was so relieved. It was over!

Now to get to a doctor…

…

Oh God!

I couldn't move! I was still paralyzed!

Help!

Help!

The edges of my mind began fringing with darkness.

Help!

Help.

He..lp.

H…

…

I woke up.

Sort of.

I knew I opened my eyes, but it was still completely dark. Worse than my room, even. In my room I at least had the streetlights and the glow of my digital clock.

Here, it was completely dark.

This wasn't your average everyday darkness. This was…Advanced Darkness.

I let myself grin… just a bit. I had to admit that was appropriate.

To my relief I felt my limbs twitch. The venom must've worn off. I almost let out a chuckle from the sheer relief I had.

I moved my arm-

*clunk*

My hand hit a solid, wooden barrier right next to it. I frowned and rolled over-

*thunk*

My shoulder hit wood, too.

I started moving more rapidly.

*thunk* My arm.

*thunk* My head.

*thunk* My foot.

*thunk* My torso.

My breathing got ragged.

My fists pounded against the edges of the wooden box thinly lined with some cloth! Yes! A wooden box!

I was in MY FREAKING COFFIN!

"This is a nightmare! It has to be!" I muttered anxiously.

My body twitched and ached to get out and stretch. My lungs burned with the desire for open space and fresh air. I squeezed my eyes shut and my arms maneuvered to my face, gripping the cheeks in a panic.

This isn't happening!

This can't be happening!

How could doctors f*ck up this bad!?

I'm not dead!

I'm not dead!

"I'm not dead!"

I kept blasting my fists as hard as I could against my coffin lid, praying for a miracle. A passerby, a mourner, the groundskeeper, anyone who would notice someone's thumping from the ground of a cemetery.

*thunk*

*thunk*

*thunk*

*Crack!*

I squirmed as pound upon pound of dirt poured from the opening and coated my body. I felt like I was suffocating, but in my blind panic all I could think of was: out!

I tore at the opening with my fingers, ignoring any splinters, prying apart the boards of the lid and widening the gap. The loose dirt and soil poured in still, but I couldn't think of anything other than getting out of there.

I shimmied my way through the opening and into the dirt. My eyes were closed, but all I knew was that this general direction was up. I kept clawing and clawing at the loose earth around me.

Finally, I pushed my hand upwards.

I felt cold air against my palm.

I was free!

The rest of my body erupted from the surface and I took huge, gulping breaths of air. Tears streamed down my face as I felt the wind on my face and looked upwards at the clear night sky, stars twinkling down at me.

I crawled from the earth and just curled up right there, sobbing in the relief, the terror, the mess of confusion and panic and pain. It must've been an hour before I felt calm enough to start becoming aware of myself.

I looked down at me. My good, black Sunday suit was covered in dirt stains, but I didn't care. It didn't matter. My hands were dirty and a bit raw from clawing at the wood. My sandy blonde hair was filled with clumps of dirt.

It all seemed so trivial compared to just the simple act of breathing fresh air.

I got up and my smile slowly dropped as I took into account one simple fact.

All around me were headstones with an occasional mausoleum popping up.

No buildings were around it.

No signs were put up.

I couldn't even find the name of the Cemetery.

"Where the hell am I now?"

So, now we get to this point in time.

It turns out the cemetery was smack dab in the middle of nowhere next to an old country road. I wandered around the graveyard until I found a fence edge. After that, it was easy to just follow it around to the main gate.

The gate just led to the old pothole-ridden road I'm dragging my feet along now, so… yeah.

It's better than being stuck six feet under.

I chuckled at how true it was. In comparison, everything was better. School, grocery stores, long car trips, even the dullest class Ms. Burnstein could conjure up about History couldn't compare. I'd take my seat and take notes if I had to.

Nothing could be worse than-

Fire.

…

I had stopped in my tracks.

Our family's religion was a bit odd, but we didn't really like the idea of embalming, so I easily dodged a bullet there. No formaldehyde-blood-transfusion for me.

But my uncle Joey died about a year or two ago. His body was cremated.

Fire and ashes.

How close was I to that?

How close was I to waking up in a burning coffin?

I shuddered as I contemplated it. "But hey, it didn't happen!"

I had to smile a bit at the little voice's contribution. I was still here. I was still in one piece! A bit dirty, yeah, but not crumbling ashes and bones! Woot!

Something caught my eye in the distance.

I focused on it and stumbled my way closer. It was a simple, one story building with two cars and a couple motorcycles parked outside.

I smiled weakly at the glowing neon sign that said "Diner".

I'll admit I was probably one of the more unusual guests to this place. I stumbled in, covered in dirt and grime, but still in my good suit and formal black tie. But given everyone else, I could guess I wasn't the weirdest person to ever stumble in.

In a few booths were two shady guys, smoking with an ashtray in front of them and some coffees. They were glaring at each other and arguing in hushed voices until I walked in. They eyed me like they weren't sure what to make of me before slowly starting to quietly converse again.

The other few were three bikers in the full leather-jacket/bandana thing. It was probably safe to presume they owned the bikes outside. They were seated at the front counter next to some loner who looked like he'd been through something and was here for a pick-me-up… or a last meal.

"Waddayawant, hun." A grimy voice called out.

A woman in her late 50s walked out from behind the counter. Her apron was stained in yellows, browns, and a weird bluish-green stain, too. Her face was caked with makeup that didn't hide the scowl. Her tall, dyed-blonde hair was set into curls that didn't really go with the rest of her face. She clicked her long, red nails against the counter.

I licked my lips. "I-I… I'm lost. I think."

"Ya think?! Kid, you don't just wake up in the middle of buttf**k nowhere without some idea of how ya got there!" She exclaimed. A couple patrons chuckled.

I stuttered, "I-I just need to make a call, ma'am."

"Well, sweetie, sorry but the phone's been down all week. Storm took out the lines." She said dismissively. She looked back at me. "You gunna buy something or just stand there, tracking in dirt, brat?!"

I jolted and nervously started waking up to the bar area. I sat a seat or two away from the loner at the very edge of the counter, but he still sent me suspicious glares from time to time.

The waitress, "Diana" the nameplate said, still eyed me as she brought out a mug and set it in front of me. I started to stutter how I didn't have money on me, but she waved it off. "Coffee's free. It's crap, but it's free."

She walked away and leaned over flirtatiously to one of the bikers. She wrote down something they asked for before yelling something to the overweight man smoking a cigar in the kitchen. It sounded like some kind of code words that made absolutely no sense at all. The man shouted something back and started putting something on the grill.

"So, kid, where're you from?" The loner asked, still eyeing me. The smell of something greasy and fatty burning wafted through the kitchen opening.

"I- uh… Minnesota… I think."

The entire diner laughed riotously. "Well, o' course yer in Minnesota! Hell, we all are! 'Cept me, good old Texas is mine. I meant where specifically."

"I-I-I dunno." I stammered out.

"You dunno?" I shook my head again. "Well that is a damned shame, ain't it?"

They went back to their coffees, silently sipping while sending me odd looks from time to time. I couldn't help it. I fidgeted with the creamer and sugar packets.

Diana scowled when she saw I didn't drink the coffee, "What, kid, not good enough for ya?"

I stammered out something unintelligible (and unintelligent) before taking a sip and almost choking on the taste. Grits and bits of coffee beans rolled around like sand on my tongue.

She barked out a laugh, "Told ya it was crap." Before walking off to take care of something else.

I glanced longingly at a piece of pie under a glass dome, but kept to myself. I remembered the Greeks buried their dead with coins. Something about payment for the ferryman to the afterlife. Shame that it didn't hold true for Americans. I could've really used some money right now.

I heard a tiny *click* sound and saw Diana was trying to get her lighter to go for a white cigarette stuck in between her lips. After the fifth click, the fluid caught and a tiny flame flickered-

Fire.

I noticed my anxiety increasing and looked away quickly. I knew it didn't happen, but it was still anxiety provoking to think that I came that close to being roasted alive!

She chuckled, "What's the matter? 'Fire bad!' or somethin'?"

I shook my head and took another sip of coffee, dreading the taste.

I reached out for the sugar packets and saw a tiny cockroach crawl out from between. I blinked at how it seemed to stare at me like the beetle.

I nervously waved my fingers an inch from it in an attempt to startle it away. It didn't move.

I examined the thing closely. I tilted my head and it seemed to mirror it. Its antennae twitched up and down almost like it was greeting me for something.

SMACK!

I jumped as a rolled up menu suddenly came down hard on top of it. Diana scowled at the stain before shouting at the cook about more 'damned roaches'.

I felt uneasy.

I don't know why and I couldn't really explain it, but I felt almost a… connection with that bug.

I felt angry that she smacked it.

I felt angry that she killed it.

A small part of my mind was shouting how it was just a stupid cockroach and they die all the time, but another part of me kept thinking I'd just seen the equivalent of another human being crushed by a giant roll of paper by a giantess.

"Hey, kid, you okay?"

I looked up at the woman and was surprised to notice my eyebrows were creased together, my jaw was tense, and my hands visibly shaking.

I took a deep rattling breath and shook my head angrily.

She walked off, still eyeing me.

'Why am I so upset?! It was literally a stupid cockroach!' I thought to myself, but I couldn't shake the feeling.

And I was hungry.

Really hungry.

Like, really hungry.

"Augh!"

I looked up and saw Diana looking around at her feet. About twenty or so cockroaches were seeping out of the cracks of the counter and approaching her feet.

She angrily stomped on them, but more and more kept coming out of the cracks. From behind the walls, the signs, and under the floor tiles. A swarm of them came under the men's bathroom door.

"Stan! Get the Raid!" She shouted over the clicking of insects. By now, the other patrons had abandoned their meals and similarly started to step on the insects.

Roaches from higher up, like the menu signs or the light fixtures began gliding on their wings into the faces and arms of the other patrons. They scrambled madly, whacking at as many as they could get.

"F*ck! They're biting!" A biker exclaimed, swatting and struggling under the roaches.

One of the shifty guys in the booth stumbled blindly towards the glass door. However, once he opened it, the entire restaurant was flooded with a swarm of crickets, grasshoppers, flies, bees, wasps, and spiders crawled along the walls from the forest around them.

The chef came through the swinging door wildly waving a hot pan around, smacking and scorching whatever came through, but he couldn't see from the insects covering his eyes. He slipped and fell face-first into the frying pan. The insects didn't care and started swarming his downed body.

The waitress shrieked in fear and pain as she wiped off enough of the insects to show that her arm was gashed beyond belief with muscles and a hint of bone showing. More bugs swarmed over her and she stumbled to the floor.

I just stared in horror.

First the beetle in my room and now this! The bugs must be revolting! Down with the era of the apes!

I looked down at my arm and saw insects, ants, flies, and spiders crawling up them.

I sat stock-still, resigning to my fate. If it was a nightmare, that would be ideal. Just waking up in my bed with my mom shouting up to get breakfast First thing I'd do would be to toss that stupid beetle in the yard; new species or not. Worst case scenario, this is real and I get eaten.

Wow, that escalated pretty quickly.

I flinched as a cockroach flitted its wings, but just sat where it was. The more adventurous ones poked their antennae or legs into my nose or ears. I didn't care how unmanly it was, I whimpered a bit.

I just sat at my stool, surrounded by the sounds of crunching and munching from downed figures covered over by insects. My own body was covered in the roaches and flies among other things.

Now it was just a waiting game.

…

…

I really wish Diana at least had a TV or radio in this place.

…

A slug was in my coffee.

…

That should be a good indication.

I had a coffee in front of me and I was situated at the far end of the café furthest from the doors.

The insects from the forest came in through the door a good 10 feet from here. A slug could only come from the forest.

So, enough time passed for a slug to get from wherever it was in the forest, through the doorway, across the diner floor, up the counter, and take a nice Jacuzzi in my probably luke-warm or stone-cold coffee.

The sun didn't come up though. I risked slowly turning my head and saw the sky out the window didn't get any lighter out, so it wasn't terribly far in the AM hours… probably.

I wanted it over at this point!

Just eat me, dammit!

Am I not delicious to you?! Does the smell of grave dirt deter you?! Is my teenage body odor really that bad?!

I wanted it over with!

It was torturous!

They'd already eaten the other patrons. The bugs stopped crawling around the skeletons a while ago and now just hung around, I assume, to play in the cavities. For probably hours I just sat watching the skeleton of Diana lying on the floor, jaw open in a silent scream as cockroaches, flies, worms, and miscellaneous wriggled in and out of the calcium-rich supports.

At one point, a couple of worms popped out of her nose cavity and I morbidly remembered that stupid song 'the worms play pinochle on your snout'.

I felt like crying, to be honest. Heck, these might be my last moments, so I figured I may as well be honest with myself. Yeah, I felt like crying.

What's worse, having a quick death that you don't see coming or at least have very little knowledge of it happening, like getting flattened by a bus or being on a balcony that collapses underneath you, or having a slow, delayed death like cancer or terminal illness or starvation?

Arguably, I think I'd prefer just getting eaten by the swarm pretty quickly rather than play a waiting game for the other shoe to drop.

*click*

*ding!*

The door opened!

"NO! Don't come in!" I shouted, too afraid to turn around. The insects stayed where they were, but I didn't know if the stranger was already dead or not.

"They'll eat you… please, get help." I whimpered, pleadingly.

I believe I can help.

I shuddered at how it seemed to be heard, but at the same time, not heard.

I risked it and slowly turned my head.

My mouth gaped open slightly at the sight that I saw.

A tall man in a black suit and tie stood at the entrance, his arms straight at his sides.

Normally, that wouldn't be unusual, I mean I'm wearing a suit out here.

But this guy had no face!

It was completely blank and empty like a sculpture where the artist got lazy and never chiseled out any defining features besides the bare-bones basic structure of a head.

The insects formed a small barrier around him. At his feet, the bugs formed a perfect circle of clear linoleum about a foot from him in any direction as though they were afraid to scuff his shiny, black shoes. The ones in the air avoided him and his direct line of sight with me.

My eyes stung painfully and my lower jaw trembled.

"A-are you-… are you gunna kill me now?" I asked. Stupid, yeah, I know, but first there were killer bugs and now I'm talking to a faceless thing in a suit. At the very least I expected to die.

I didn't expect him to walk over to me and sit down on the next stool over. He casually glanced at the skeletal loner that slumped in the seat next to him before turning to me.

He seemed to notice my discomfort, what with the insects all over me, and waved his hand in a "shoo-ing" manner. I felt a tiny tingle of something; like at the dentist when there's an X-ray and you "feel" the ray out of paranoia.

The bugs scattered off of me and I breathed a huge sigh of relief at my bug-free body.

I looked over at the entity still staring silently at me, seeming to analyze who I was like some curiosity. My back just slumped down and I found my head against the counter (also cleared of any insects, save for the slug still in my drink).

A brave few cockroaches stood in front of me, looking up at me.

Go away. I thought angrily.

To my surprise, they all scattered uniformly away from the countertop. My mind paused for a second. Could it really-

Come back.

The same few cockroaches came right back in front of me. I racked my mind for a second.

Make a square.

Give me a break; it was the first shape that came to mind besides "squiggly line" which was too generic to work.

There were only three cockroaches, but a fourth one came up and completed the square formation in front of me.

Bring me a sugar packet.

A cockroach walked across the table towards the sugar packet stand and ambled around it, but so did a few others. In a few minutes they were scrambling over the packets, ripping them open and consuming the sugar inside.

I felt like I lost that connection for a minute.

*clink*

I looked over in surprise.

The entity had black tentacles out of his back. One of which had lifted the glass dome off the display and another was adeptly using a silvery pie server to put a piece of the key lime pie in front of me.

"T-thank you." I said confusedly, picking up a fork from the stand next to me.

The figure nodded.

Why don't you tell me your story in exchange? I'm sure it will be rather fascinating.

I didn't know how to respond. I didn't know this guy and he just hands me some pie and asks for my life's story.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked boldly.

The entity chuckled. From that display with the insects, I surmised you were influencing them. I know others similar to you. Those who are… different. I could take you to them.

I was tempted for the offer, but…

"I need to find my parents, first. They're probably-"

Child, check your pulse, please.

Okay, that was a really weird request. I put my fingers up to my neck. This guy was seriously-

Wait.

…

…

Nothing.

Nothing!

Oh my God! I didn't have a pulse! I pushed my fingers further in, shifting around trying to find the vein.

I put a hand over my heart. I didn't feel the comforting rhythmic beat.

I felt like I was going to faint.

A tentacle pushed the pie closer to me. I didn't know what else to do, so I just took a forkful and chewed mechanically. For a pretty unsavory character, Diana did make a good key lime pie.

So, my options; I could walk home and my parents are like 'Yay, son you're alive! Hugs, kisses, and Denny's all around!' or they could be like 'Oh! Son! Why does your apparition haunt us?'… or they could go zombie-movie on me and blow my head off.

"How did you know?" I asked weakly.

The Living tend to have a certain 'feel' or 'presence' to them.

That made sense, I guess. I mean I'm dealing with a pretty unknown entity, so… it made as much sense as anything.

So I was dead.

But how-

That God damned beetle!

I put a hand to my heart again and concentrated. The small feeling of "blue" came up again and I could "see" the tiny beetle latched onto my very-still heart, still dead though.

The entity next to me started, breaking the emotionless composure with surprise.

You…

"What?" I asked suspiciously as he trailed off.

Nevermind. I believe I can help you. I don't believe I can undo whatever has happened, but I believe I can help you learn how to control this and prevent… this-

It gestured to the skeletal remains of the diner patrons.

-from happening again. Will you please come with?

I sat in silence, thinking. On one hand, some freaky faceless thing comes up to me and offers to take me away. That screams 'stranger danger' without the facelessness added. However, I didn't have anywhere else to go. People would call me a freak if they found out and I'd probably end up on a lab table under a couple scalpels. This guy hadn't threatened me so far. He just offered me pie… plus, if I had to, I could defend myself with totally badass bug mind control.

I squinted slightly at the gastropod soaking in my coffee.

'Do my bidding, slug!'

The slug flopped against the ceramic mug in response.

…

Maybe not so helpful with the more "slimy" insect species, but the hornets and bees would totally be worthwhile.

"Alright. Just let me finish the pie." I said, smiling at the somewhat inappropriate humorous moment.

How about you tell me your name?

"What's the point, I'm dead, so my name's pretty much useless too. It doesn't feel right, y'know? Calling myself that after it was put on an epitaph. Maybe it's just me."

You can choose your own name, you know.

I thought it over. It was promising. I was named after an entymologist. What was his name again? Brady? Brandon?

I put my hand out to the entity to shake. "Brahm. Nikolaus Brahm. Call me Nick."

*Outside the Confines of Space-Time*

=We open to a vast whiteness with a large gate with the picture of a blank human shape and an image of an immaculate, sinful being labeled "Mary Sue". The Smiling Crow stands in the void of white… it's really boring…=

=We see a grinning, white being sitting cross-legged in front of the individual=

"Welcome, Mr. Al-che-mist."

The figure blinks. "I'm not an alchemist."

The Truth frowned. "Wait, wha-? So what are you then?"

The figure tilts its head in thought. "Well, I suppose I am, in a sense, an alchemist. My major is in chemistry which is a modern evolved form of Alchemy, but with less philosopher stone… and arrays… and magic."

The Truth waves his hand dismissively. "That doesn't count. The whole Equivalent Exchange is handled with the chemicals and equipment. There's no human soul in the equation… wait! No! You're off track! Why are you here?"

"Oh, well, I'm a writer-"

"Ah! So you activated the Forbidden Array of OCs?" Truth deduced.

"Yeah, like, a couple of chapters ago. In the AN introduction part. Wow, it's been a while. How long was I in that void?"

"So you created humans from nothing." Truth's face split in a wide grin. "Well, that's my specialty! So, what's the price of a human soul?"

The figure shrugs. "I dunno. Those guys' souls don't really exist, either… well, I did put a little bit of myself in each of them…" The figure's eyes light up in realization. "They're like my horcruxes, but without the whole murder part and evil magic!"

"Wait, your what-now?" Truth deadpans.

Crow waves the thought away. "Eh, you'd have to know the fandom."

"So, anyway, what's the price of a human soul?"

"Hmmm. Well, that begs the questions; what is a soul? Is there a soul? And, finally, do a bunch of storybook characters have souls? Seriously, not enough Satanic cults or magical masterminds trying to fiddle with weird circles? I don't see Neil Gaiman or J.K. Rowling dealing with this."

"Huh, I guess that's true… Geez, I'm at a loss. I'm supposed to take something from you as a toll or some shit like that…"

…

"I have a stick of gum."

…

"Eh, sure."

*Crackling of electricity before The Smiling Crow appears above the Forbidden Array of OCs*

"… Hey, that bastard took the spearmint! Those were my favorite! I was offering up the fruity stuff! I shall avenge you, my beloved Trident piece of gum!"

Anyway, glad to be back! I was getting worried, too. Those pre-recorded messages are only supposed to last, like, three or four chapters.

Still sick, though, but I hope you enjoyed this update!

I designed Nick based upon examining a few personal fears; parasitophobia (fear of parasites/living creatures in the body), taphophobia (fear of being buried/cremated alive), and claustrophobia (fear of tight, enclosed, or inescapable spaces).

I actually turned off the lights and put my body lying up against a wall with a blanket over me to simulate the feeling of pounding on/touching a solid surface while being completely enclosed. Once I got into the mindset of someone trapped in a box/coffin, it actually resulted in a mild panic attack or two, but it was worth it to get a sense of what to write for the coffin scene.

His character was also heavily influenced by SCP-439. An insect that takes over the human host and forces it to act as an "anthill" or "hive" for itself. It was also almost directly influenced by an obscure pasta I found online with a similar concept of an insect hive possessing someone. If anyone knows which one I'm talking about, I'd appreciate it if you could tell me so I can properly credit them.

Nikolaus Brahm was an entymologist in the late 18th and early 19th centuries responsible for documenting species of butterfly and beetle and writing a book. I just found him and liked the name after doing a Wikipedia search for lists of entomologists/zoologists.

Thank you for enjoying the story!

Sincerely,

-Crow

ALERT!

Thank you to everyone who voted on the Polls and especially those who sent reviews and PMs to help me fix it!

Well, this is embarrassing, but… It turns out, the second poll I put together had something weird and no one could vote on it (and I'm sorry to say I didn't check up on it until recently), however, I think I fixed it, so I'm closing the poll for Harry's name and the poll for Harry's weapon should be posted on my account! I'm going to leave this poll up until the next update which, at this point, is indeterminate, but it should go until next week at the least (around 4/17/16).

Thank you to everyone for following the story and enjoying it!

…

Poll Results:

***Lamp –Eyes: 14

Shadow: 9

Scath: 8

Cain: 4

Kane: 3

…

Lamp-eyes takes the lead with 36%! It has been decided! *thunder clap*

…

Weapons

*Wires/jump cables in tandem with BRVR: 6

*Hallucinogenic cloud: 2

*Hatchet: 2

*Knives: 2

*Monstrous Assembly of Death: 3