Crimson kiss
Chapter 1: A checkup
I DEFINITELY don't own Cyberchase or any of its characters. PBS does.
Matt stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. It was 5:00 in the morning, and Matt was locked in a cold sweat. He was reflecting on that horrible dream he once had of Inez killing everyone in Control Center, and then himself killing his friend, who never acted on her own free will.
It wasn't because the dream seemed real, it wasn't because of those images of his friends, bleeding, suffering, and dying in horror. It was because of that story Inez told of Paul, and its gruesome connections to the fight with Evil Inez.
Matt knew that was a bad omen, that somehow, he hadn't seen the end of it all. It was all so painful, and so unforgettable. He knew something that bad just doesn't stay down. And so the thought constantly haunted him. He was no longer looking at his friends the same way, but they understood why. So none of the girls, or Digit, Motherboard, or Marbles felt the need to bring up the subject.
The boy hadn't experienced anything related to the dream now for 10 months.
He had been keeping this to himself for 10 months as well; he refused to talk with anyone about it, and, since then, he hadn't encountered anyone more evil than Hacker either.
Except just once.
It happened on a silent, summer evening about 4 months ago.
Matt gave up trying to sleep at about 2:00 in the morning. He just couldn't relax. Something was terribly wrong, and, even though it was summer, Matt felt a chilling tingling along his spinal cord.
Without warning, out of nowhere came a violent gust of wind. For no reason at all, the window in his room opened, and a powerful breeze slammed Matt into the wall. He cursed the weather forecasters and got up to shut the window.
But he never made it.
The wind immediately died down 2 seconds later, and two bright points of light came in through the opening. The points grew larger, and the light became blinding. Matt was rooted on the spot, hardly daring to move. He thought the lights looked somewhat like spheres. Then he realized that they were eyes.
Those eyes were narrowed, and they were filled with fiery rage. Their gaze was so cruel, Matt thought that he was never going to be happy again. For a second that seemed to contain hours and hours, the eyes just glared at the frozen boy. Next, out of the silence, came a voice, a voice that sounded like an ear-splitting jackhammer. It was so high-pitched, that Matt could not tell whether it was that of a female or a male.
"You're a loser, Matt," it said softly.
Matt wanted to scream, to cry for help. But his whole body could not bear this experience. He felt like he was losing the use of every last part of his body, except his eyes and ears.
All he could do now was stare into the glowing eyes. His system was almost fully hypnotized. Whatever part of his brain was not focused on the situation was now battling for the use of his vocal cords.
"Aiii...?" he said. "Arrr...caaa...da..." he burbled. "Wha...ge...who...you?" That was all he could manage. The eyes broke his sense of proportion, and Matt now felt like he had not spoken for decades, that all he had done was stare.
Now the glowing eyes blinked. Then they bulged in anger. Matt could tell this was an expression of annoyance, even though he not see any sort of mouth, or any other features that came with a face. Anyway, these eyes were too horrible to belong to any organism's face.
Eventually, the high-pitched voice came back.
"You're Matt, right?" it said, sounding exasperated. All Matt could do was nod, helpless before this intruder. "The boy Inez calls 'Matthew'?" continued the voice with a hint of impatience.
Matt could have told the voice how Inez only calls him 'Matthew' when he calls her 'Nezzie' and that he really only calls her 'Nezzie' because, for her age, Inez got a little overpowering at times and that she sometimes enjoyed bossing him around, for she knew a lot, and she sometimes didn't mind showing it off, which got on his nerves, justifying the means. Instead, all he could do was say, "Yes, well, er, erm..."
"You're a loser," repeated the voice, "A foolish little brat." "Er..." "You might as well tell your girlfriend that your days are numbered, that is, if a dope like you isn't even in special education." At this point, Matt was angry. Part of him wanted to talk back, to tell the voice off. But his brain was overwhelmed, and his soul was still screaming for the eyes to leave, for this to be a dream he would wake up from.
"Ah..." he stammered, desperately searching for words, "Ah..." "Oh, do shut up," snapped the voice. At that instant, the two eyes shrunk away to nothing, and the wind started up again. "Ah...stop!" said Matt. "You! Who are you? What do you want? I can speak now!"
The wind built into a deafening roar, and Matt's window shut all by itself. He forced it open, and began screaming out into the night. "This!" he shouted. "This? This? You? Here? Come back! Say that to my face! Say it again!"
He yelled and yelled, but the wind eventually died down. Whoever that was, they were gone now, and Matt was left alone, with a feeling he had never experienced before: a combination of exhaustion, confusion, horror, disgust—and anger! Every hair on his body was standing on end, he was sweating so much that even his clothes were soaked, and his hands were shaking, ready to break anything that moved. Matt stood there, overcome by the encounter with this weird host. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the wall.
That was four months ago. And no, he had not mentioned that incident to anyone else either.
Chapter 1: A checkup
I DEFINITELY don't own Cyberchase or any of its characters. PBS does.
Matt stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. It was 5:00 in the morning, and Matt was locked in a cold sweat. He was reflecting on that horrible dream he once had of Inez killing everyone in Control Center, and then himself killing his friend, who never acted on her own free will.
It wasn't because the dream seemed real, it wasn't because of those images of his friends, bleeding, suffering, and dying in horror. It was because of that story Inez told of Paul, and its gruesome connections to the fight with Evil Inez.
Matt knew that was a bad omen, that somehow, he hadn't seen the end of it all. It was all so painful, and so unforgettable. He knew something that bad just doesn't stay down. And so the thought constantly haunted him. He was no longer looking at his friends the same way, but they understood why. So none of the girls, or Digit, Motherboard, or Marbles felt the need to bring up the subject.
The boy hadn't experienced anything related to the dream now for 10 months.
He had been keeping this to himself for 10 months as well; he refused to talk with anyone about it, and, since then, he hadn't encountered anyone more evil than Hacker either.
Except just once.
It happened on a silent, summer evening about 4 months ago.
Matt gave up trying to sleep at about 2:00 in the morning. He just couldn't relax. Something was terribly wrong, and, even though it was summer, Matt felt a chilling tingling along his spinal cord.
Without warning, out of nowhere came a violent gust of wind. For no reason at all, the window in his room opened, and a powerful breeze slammed Matt into the wall. He cursed the weather forecasters and got up to shut the window.
But he never made it.
The wind immediately died down 2 seconds later, and two bright points of light came in through the opening. The points grew larger, and the light became blinding. Matt was rooted on the spot, hardly daring to move. He thought the lights looked somewhat like spheres. Then he realized that they were eyes.
Those eyes were narrowed, and they were filled with fiery rage. Their gaze was so cruel, Matt thought that he was never going to be happy again. For a second that seemed to contain hours and hours, the eyes just glared at the frozen boy. Next, out of the silence, came a voice, a voice that sounded like an ear-splitting jackhammer. It was so high-pitched, that Matt could not tell whether it was that of a female or a male.
"You're a loser, Matt," it said softly.
Matt wanted to scream, to cry for help. But his whole body could not bear this experience. He felt like he was losing the use of every last part of his body, except his eyes and ears.
All he could do now was stare into the glowing eyes. His system was almost fully hypnotized. Whatever part of his brain was not focused on the situation was now battling for the use of his vocal cords.
"Aiii...?" he said. "Arrr...caaa...da..." he burbled. "Wha...ge...who...you?" That was all he could manage. The eyes broke his sense of proportion, and Matt now felt like he had not spoken for decades, that all he had done was stare.
Now the glowing eyes blinked. Then they bulged in anger. Matt could tell this was an expression of annoyance, even though he not see any sort of mouth, or any other features that came with a face. Anyway, these eyes were too horrible to belong to any organism's face.
Eventually, the high-pitched voice came back.
"You're Matt, right?" it said, sounding exasperated. All Matt could do was nod, helpless before this intruder. "The boy Inez calls 'Matthew'?" continued the voice with a hint of impatience.
Matt could have told the voice how Inez only calls him 'Matthew' when he calls her 'Nezzie' and that he really only calls her 'Nezzie' because, for her age, Inez got a little overpowering at times and that she sometimes enjoyed bossing him around, for she knew a lot, and she sometimes didn't mind showing it off, which got on his nerves, justifying the means. Instead, all he could do was say, "Yes, well, er, erm..."
"You're a loser," repeated the voice, "A foolish little brat." "Er..." "You might as well tell your girlfriend that your days are numbered, that is, if a dope like you isn't even in special education." At this point, Matt was angry. Part of him wanted to talk back, to tell the voice off. But his brain was overwhelmed, and his soul was still screaming for the eyes to leave, for this to be a dream he would wake up from.
"Ah..." he stammered, desperately searching for words, "Ah..." "Oh, do shut up," snapped the voice. At that instant, the two eyes shrunk away to nothing, and the wind started up again. "Ah...stop!" said Matt. "You! Who are you? What do you want? I can speak now!"
The wind built into a deafening roar, and Matt's window shut all by itself. He forced it open, and began screaming out into the night. "This!" he shouted. "This? This? You? Here? Come back! Say that to my face! Say it again!"
He yelled and yelled, but the wind eventually died down. Whoever that was, they were gone now, and Matt was left alone, with a feeling he had never experienced before: a combination of exhaustion, confusion, horror, disgust—and anger! Every hair on his body was standing on end, he was sweating so much that even his clothes were soaked, and his hands were shaking, ready to break anything that moved. Matt stood there, overcome by the encounter with this weird host. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the wall.
That was four months ago. And no, he had not mentioned that incident to anyone else either.