HOUSE

He's lying. He's lying. He's lying, Shhhhh.

The voices grew louder when he was remotely close to the Captain. It happened in the hospital when his mind was connected with the Doctor's. There was a change when he was looking for his katra to return, something that even froze his mind with such darkness and lack of comprehension. He never felt so much terror and fear as he did when he was apprehended in his mind, unable to do anything but watch in fear as McCoy's katra was forced to return to his body before he was finally released. And when he awoke, he heard the voices as clear as day.

Question him. Liar, liar. He's lying. Ask him.

Then Spock saw the little girl again, just outside the hospital doors, watching him from a distance. While unsure as to her motive or trustworthiness, he was compelled to follow her and would have if Kirk hadn't called him. Since then, Spock has made particular assurances to keep a subtle distance from Jim, following him on his route to the store until they find something else that catches their attention. Concerned that they would be distracted by something so common, the group turned around to face a house on the opposite side of the park, where smoke swirled from the chimney and the faint scent of mouth-watering consumables raided their minds and nostrils. Before they knew it, they were at the front door, tapping on it relentlessly.

"I'm not sure this is a practical idea," Spock said, holding the axe close in case something attacked them. "Perhaps we should continue our path to the town hall."

"It couldn't hurt to check," Jim answered with a shrug. Spock pressed his lips into a thin line as the door opened with no one to greet them. Classical jazz music played softly from the inside making it seem all the more tempting. Jim began to walk forward, only for the Vulcan to bound ahead, weapon ready to swing. "Damn it, Spock!"

The Vulcan left them behind, checking each room carefully. There was a staircase that led to the second floor, but what stopped him was a figure slowly walking down. What baffled him was that he looked like a common human male, who seemed as pleased as Spock was unsure.

"Oh! Wasn't expecting any visitors," said the old man in surprise. "Now, I know this may seem quite a hoot, but put down your axe, son. There's no way to go when you walk into someone else's humble abode."

Spock narrowed his eyes but did as told.

"Where are my manners?" The man smiled, continuing down the steps to greet him with an offered hand. "The name's Randel, an ol' cattle herder. Now, what be your name, boy?"

"Commander Spock is what I will permit you to call me," the Vulcan clipped.

Randel shifted his weight from foot to foot for a split second before another sound from the kitchen drew their attention. "Other guests! Friends of yours, I presume."

Spock quickly followed him to the other room, trying to discern anything odd about him. There was nothing. Even the voices seemed to quiet down and listen, which itself made him feel suspicious. When they found Jim and McCoy, they were peering over the abundance of food laid out deliberately on the table, all for the taking of the mouth-watering humans. Even Spock had to restrain himself from staring so intently at the group in front of him, his stomach growling against his will. However, the moment the two saw the company of their comrade, they stood alert and wary.

"Spock, who's this?" Jim immediately demanded.

"Randel. He seems to be the caretaker of this home," the Vulcan answered, sending a look to both of his friends. They seemed to understand his warning about being on high alert. "However, he has yet to inform me how he has survived this entire time without the peril of what lies within both transformations."

"Well, that's simple! Don't go outside, and if the world goes upside-down, head to the roof," the old man responded without a second thought. "Nothing to attack you there but a bit of a breeze. That's why I take my blanket up with a cup of cocoa. "It always warms me up right away!"

"So… you're the only one that lives here?" Kirk asked, gesturing vaguely to the abundance of food.

"Yes, but I get the occasional visitor once in a while," the man mentioned. "You are not the only ones who came here looking for a place to rest and eat. Considering that this is a tough world to live in, I do my best to provide."

"Awfully nice of you."

"That's why I offer." His eyes flickered around the trio, analyzing them with a frown. "You folks seem to be beaten up quite badly. How about you stay for the night, rest and eat up, and head off in the morning? I'll do my best with your wounds if you let me."

Jim looked between his two friends before smiling softly. "That'd be great. The name is James Kirk, by the way. This is Leonard McCoy, and you already met Spock."

"Yes, the Commander knows how to make a hell of a first impression," Randel chuckled. With a motion of his hand to the table, the older man made his way to the other room, saying, "Go ahead, grab a plate and some juice. I'm gonna get my first aid. Sit tight."

McCoy grunted, doing as he was told and taking the nearest chair with a huff. Jim grabbed the plates, handing one to the Doctor and one to the Vulcan. "Seems legit," he commented. "If Randel is as nice as he seems, I think we've found ourselves a safe house, boys."

Spock looked down at the plate but made no move to grab it. Instead, he circled the room, observing it. "Then you should be aware that we cannot be safe anywhere. Our stay will only be temporary because of the injuries that both you and the Doctor possess."

Jim glared, dropping the plate onto the table. "Why the hell do you have a stick up your ass? You need to eat too! And you're not exactly at 100% either."

"I am Vulcan. I don't require as much support as you do."

"I know you're hungry. Now sit the hell down and join us."

At that moment, Randel came back with a warm smile. "I have medicine!" His exclamation was cut short by the tension between the two standing ones. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. We're just thankful for your hospitality," Jim said, forcing a smile as he sat down in front of his plate and next to the southerner. The Vulcan slowly did the same, only placing himself at the far end. Randel wandered over to McCoy, who was somewhat paying attention to the conversation but longingly looked at the grub and kneeled in front of him to place the medkit on the floor.

"Looks like you've been through a lot," the man commented, opening the packet and pulling out a disinfectant, only for McCoy to pull away with a grunt. Randel raised an eyebrow. "Now, it may sting, but there's no need to worry. I won't be long."

"Let him help you, Bones," Kirk insisted softly. With an obvious grunt of displeasure, McCoy allowed himself to be bandaged. "Sorry about that. "Because Bones is a doctor, he's a little hesitant when it comes to other people patching him up."

"I understand. But I went to medical school, so I know a thing or two. You needn't worry, Doctor McCoy." Randel went quiet for a few minutes until he pulled back and finished with the bandaging and cleaning. Jim smiled in amusement, slightly comparing his friend's appearance to that of a mummy. Bones shot him a glare, seeming to recognize the thought flooding through his mind. "There. Now, it's your turn, Kirk."

"Thanks." As the man moved over and began to treat his ankle, Jim began to ask questions he was sure the others wanted to know the answer to. "How did you get stuck here?"

"The same way as you, I'm guessing. Curiosity sure as hell killed the cat."

Kirk didn't appreciate that answer. "You were on the Enterprise too?"

"The Enterprise? What's that? Some type of party van?"

The trio exchanged glances. "Uh, never mind. You gotta be there to know it, type of thing. No offense."

"It's alright. I think I prefer not knowing. As they say, 'ignorance is bliss'." Wrapping the last of the gauze, Randel stood and moved to the Vulcan, who stared at him with such a look that the man backed away slowly, leaving him just a wad of bandages. He entered another room, and the sound of rushing water reached their ears a split second later. "But I was at my farm when it happened. Some crazy teens usually break into my property, so I ought to take care of them. When I reached the inside, well, I looked around, and there was no one. Before I could go back to my house, the floor broke, and I was here."

"It seems like you adapted quickly," Kirk commented when he returned. Randel mocked a bow before sitting, clasping his hands together with a wide grin.

"Enough chitchat. Let's feast!"

And they did. Spock only drank the wine offered, not trusting the man they just met.

It was late at night when Bones woke up with a strange chill surrounding his body. He blinked open an eye, his blurry vision revealing the dark living room and then the floor where Jim was sleeping. He blinked slowly, his brow furrowed, as he noticed Spock kneeling beside him, his hand hidden from view. Even if he had a voice to speak, something told him not to. He simply watched, waiting for any changes and making sure to keep everything the same. The last thing was for the hobgoblin to hear a change in his breathing, then call him out on it. Not like I'll be able to answer, he muses.

He'd been staring at the Vulcan for a long time, concentrating on his slightly tense posture. Right when McCoy's eyes began to droop, Spock adjusted his knees, turning his back ever so slightly to give the medical professional a peek at what he was doing to Jim. Bones stiffened the moment he saw Spock's fingers pulling away from the Captain's psi point before going to stand. At once, Bones snapped his eyes shut and forced his breathing to calm.

There was a long pause. Then there were footsteps leading away to the door behind him. Then there was a loud clang followed by a thud. McCoy flickered his gaze under his eyelids, panic, and confusion seizing his body. He was hyperaware of the fallen item being dragged across the floor, slowly fading into the distance. He waited and waited for longer than he should have, because when he opened his eyes again, it was the next day, and everyone was gone, including the blankets and the bed on the floor. He sat up, pushing the fleece off of himself in search of Jim. The chatter in the dining room attracted him; he found both his friend and the guy, Randel, chatting over cups of coffee at the table. When he walked into the room, Kirk smiled happily.

"Finally, you're awake! I was waiting for that to happen. You slept in pretty late. Hey, once Spock gets back, we'll head out."

He left? McCoy tilted his head, tossing a glance at the window. Why would the hobgoblin leave? Doesn't he know how dangerous it is? So much for always thinking logically… And why is Jim so calm about this? Not being able to say any of this, the best he could do is a grunt in frustration.

"Don't you worry, he'll be back," Randel reassured him, pushing back his chair so he could stand and wander to the kitchen. "Now, I have breakfast set up; just one last meal before you're on your way." He returned with a large pot and three bowls, placing them on the table. "A simple meat broth, my grandma's recipe. I know you'll love it."

Bones internally frowned, smiling on the outside as he sat down. Where the hell does he get fresh herbs and meat? There's not a livin' plant or animal that ain't dead here! He was completely perplexed. The soup that was poured into his bowl was a soft green color, with chunks of potato, carrots, and meat swimming around. The meat... it was strange. As a man who lived on a dairy farm, he knew what chopped meat looked like. This was not it.

He suddenly stood up. When all eyes went to him, McCoy quickly brushed his hands together, demonstrating a washing motion. Fortunately, Jim finally used his two brain cells to put two and two together.

"Oh! We have to wash our hands!" Also standing, the Captain turned to the man. "The restroom is down the hall, right?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Cool. We'll be back in a few. C'mon, Bones!" Leonard smiled at the man as he followed the other down the hall. As Kirk opened the bathroom door, the other paused at the base of the staircase that was near, his eyes narrowing slightly. He could have sworn…

Thump.

Bones' eyebrows shot up. It was not his imagination. He grabbed Kirk's arm, dragging him to the stairs, only to be immediately pulled back by the man. He glared. This is not the time fer yer stupidity, Jim! The hobgoblin is in here, I know it!

"Christ, Bones, what the hell is wrong with you?" Jim hissed quietly. McCoy grabbed his arm again, frantically pointing up the stairs, which only confused the man. "What is it? What's up with the stairs?"

Bones smacked his arm. Quit talkin' to me like a damn dog! His thoughts yelled just as another, softer thump rumbled at the top. He smugly looked at Kirk, who was just as alarmed.

"The hell…?"

Move yer butt! Let's check it out. Knowing he wouldn't be able to hear, Bones moved quietly and quickly up the steps, glancing back to ensure Kirk followed until they reached the top. There was a hallway, and two rooms on either side. McCoy went to the left while Jim was on the right. When the handles turned, they found both to be locked. The duo looked at each other before there was another sound from up above. Their eyes moved to the ceiling, seeing a latch. The sound came from the attic.

When the latter dropped, the first thing Bones noticed was that it was lit up. A light shined inside, telling them both that someone had been inside only recently. Secondly, and more concerning, was a green, bloody handprint on a step of the ladder. Wordlessly (obviously), Leonard went first, the trepidation slowly rising as he bounded up to the floor. The moment he reached the top and stood, turning to the middle, he froze in his tracks, and a whimper released from his throat.

"What is it, Bones?" Jim came bounding after it, the stairs rattling as he came up. "Did you find-" Then his gaze landed on the center, nearly knocking him back down in shock. "S… S… Spock!"

The Vulcan hung from a beam, tied to his wrists and swinging weakly in the air. Green oozed from the nubs of his now-mutilated fingers and toes, and a slice that carved out half of his face revealed the green pulsing muscle beneath. Spock cried through his gag, tears freely pouring down what was left of his face and dropping into the ever-growing pool of blood beneath him.

Snapping out of their momentary stupor, the two raced to their friend and began to gently untie him, one doing the knots while the other removed the gag and attempted to stop the bleeding.

"I am… sorry," Spock squeaked, looking at the two with his one working eye. "I am so sorry for what I have done… It is my fault we are trapped in this… HELL!"

"Sh, Spock, it's okay; you're gonna be okay-"

"I'm sorry," the Vulcan spat, dropping a glob of saliva mixed with blood on the floor. When he was lowered, a grunt of pain rocked him, stiffening what was left of his bones. "I-I should never have... suggested coming here... Not here."

Leonard pressed Kirk's gold uniform into the most dangerous wounds that dripped quickly. While the blood on his face had already dried, it was the feet and fingers that contained the most liquid. With a sympathetic murmur, the Doctor let the other know that it was not his fault. They could never have predicted this, not even a Vulcan.

"I was suspicious… when Leonard was revived," Spock whispered tonelessly, the undertone of his voice slightly rattling as his attention was fully focused on the Captain, who was now as still as a board. McCoy raised an eyebrow at the apparent tension. "I was curious as to what you were hiding... what you were withholding from us... the voices that I hear, the voices that belong to those of this town, tell me that you had lied to us. I urged t-t-to know… last night, I could not refrain myself… I performed a mind meld." To their shattering hearts, a choked sob raked through his body. So I wasn' hallucinatin'! He thought in alarm. "I figured it out, but before I understood why… I… I had been caught."

Spock stared at them with such intense emotion with his one good eye that it shook them further to their core.

"Do not e-eat any m-m-more of the food."

Jim paled several shades lighter. "W-Wait… you don't mean-"

"Right he is!" All three of them looked up at the man climbing up the ladder, joining them in the attic with a grand smile and a bloody apron. The Vulcan pressed back between the two humans, whimpering softly at the pain his toe-less feet brought him. Both Jim and Leonard glared at Randel, stepping forward to protect their friend. "Looks like you found my secret recipe."

"You are a sick sonofabitch!" Kirk yelled, rage coursing through every strand of his voice. "I will FUCKING KILL YOU if you step any closer! I swear to God that I won't let you breathe a moment longer in this damn house for what you did to him-!"

"Oh, don't be such a bummer, Mr. Kirk. You said it yourself— it's mighty dangerous out here! The only way to survive is by treating it like everyone and anything else: like a cycle!" Exclaimed the man. "It's just unfortunate that you'll be aware that you'll be a part of this cycle now. But don't worry. Everyone finds a place here, believe it or not. Some on a plate, as demonstrated by the Commander-"

McCoy spat at the base of his feet.

Randel chuckled, twisting his neck to crack it, a malicious grin morphing onto his face. "And others will feast on those who are eating it!" His body began to grow, pounds of flesh ballooning onto the human, who seemed to have exchanged its appearance with that of a disheveled hog. Its stomach was sliced open, revealing small, razor-sharp teeth, while the hooves are heavy as iron. Its dark red eyes glowed in the light, its smile never dropping. "Now, it's time to ring the bell. Supper is almost ready!"

"RUN!" Jim yelled as the three dove out of the way of the launching swine, which crashed landed into some boxes and gave them enough time to rush down the stairs and sprint to the door. Unfortunately, the moment they opened the door, it zipped them right to the back, nearly causing them all to stumble as they crashed into one another in a complete state of illusion and misdirection. McCoy grabbed Jim's hand and Spock's wrist before rushing to the back door— only to find themselves walking through the front.

"What the hell?!" Kirk yelled out what they were all thinking. "How the hell do we get out of here?"

Spock's expression was sporadic as he attempted to speak, his eyes frozen in barely concealed emotion. "C-Cap… tin? JiM! I ca-ca… not? Hear yOu." Jim grabbed his friend's shaking hand, squeezing it. "I can't… he-h-ear you."

Spock had no ears; they were gone.

Shit. I can't talk, and Spock can't hear! Jim's not gonna do too well with this, McCoy thought in dread. Can this get any worse?!

A dark, sinister laugh brought them out of their confusion. All eyes went to the stairs, where the pig creature floated down from, its tusks pointing down at them. "You found my little trick, I see. Too bad you won't escape this time, Starfleet."

"Let us go!" Jim yelled.

"Nah ah ah, unfortunately, I can't let that happen. It's a pity, really," it said, wandering over to the nearest wall and caressing the light switch with its hoof. "I won't be able to put it into my next lunch as I have my orders. But seeing where you're going, well, it sure makes up for it. Word of advice: you might want to hold onto each other."

It flicked the light off, engulfing the trio in darkness. Suddenly, they were falling in an instant, their grunts of surprise reaching their ears as they blindly grabbed the air for any form of support. It was a long few seconds before they crashed on a hard surface. Jim moaned, hauling himself up on his knees, and looked around. We really need to stop falling, he thought bitterly as he gazed at the light hue circling the area. That's when he realized that he was alone again.

"BONES?!... SPOCK?!... ANYONE?!"

There was no one to answer his desperate calls. He was alone, and they were all injured. All Jim could think about as he limped forward was how fucked they all were.

TBC…