The green metal door slowly creaked open on the two inhabitants of the lighthouse.
A shiver of fear ran through Driver's spine: two pairs of shiny black eyes on two pale faces stood in the doorway. Her first thought went to those ghostly monsters from Earth horror movies that used to scare her so much, like Ju-On, or The Ring: black eyes on cadaver-white skin.
The two ghosts walked slowly past the doorstep, not on two, but on four legs each. Because of this, their heads and torsos did not oscillate like they would've if they'd been bipedal, rather they glided through the air standing completely straight, adding even more to their ghastly appearance.
You're just making yourself scared now. Ghosts don't exist. Look at them! They're old and they're smiling!
They were: their mouths were stretched into two polite, welcoming smiles; they were framed by a web of deep wrinkles. Their movements were slow, non-threatening, and that coupled with their hunched backs made them appear fragile and weak: clearly, they were way past their prime.
They had very similar facial features (what little facial features they had): big black eyes, paper-white (don't think cadaver for God's sake, and don't stare like that, you've been living among aliens for years, do you know how rude it is?!) skin, two slits for a nose, very thin arms, each terminating in three-fingered hands, as most alien hands did (see? They're normal!).
While the upper part of their bodies was rather humanoid, the same couldn't be said about the rest from the hips down: four bug-like legs carried a segmented bug-like body and tail, covered in a shiny black exoskeleton that matched their eyes.
Virtually the only difference between them were their hairstyles (or… wigs?) and their clothes, from which she could tell one was male and the other female: the male one had short, white hair on his temples, and was wearing a red shirt similar to a human polo; the female one had puffy, shoulder-length brown hair and wore a light, violet-colored women's sweater. From the top of their heads sprouted a couple of antennae, not cute and slick like Zim's, but thicker, flesh-like, with a bigger lump at the end, slumped forward like a withered plant's leaves.
The one last notable thing about them, she noticed, were the two matching heart-shaped golden lockets around their necks. So they were a couple? A married couple, perhaps?
The strangers stood side by side in front of the door, facing her and Zim, and welcomed them speaking with gentle, kind voices:
"Look what the wind brought us today" the male one talked first.
"A new couple of visitors!" the female one exclaimed joyously.
"Welcome to our Lighthouse" the male one waved a hand to gesture at the building behind himself.
"We are the Lighthouse Keepers" the female one said.
Driver moved her hand away from the gun under the jacket, reassured by their polite demeanor, but slightly confused by their coordinated speech. It had something artificial to it, like it'd been written and rehearsed before being presented to them.
"Did you crash your ship? We heard a very loud noise!" the old lady asked worriedly.
"It sounded like a pretty rough landing!" the old man echoed, "We're glad you don't seem hurt though!"
"Oh, we are SO glad to see you are alright! The wind has been blowing particularly strong today!"
Their words bounced off each other like a ball in a game of pong. Finally though, Driver found a window to chime in herself:
"We're ok, thanks!" she smiled back at them, "I don't know what we would have done without this lighthouse! We would have been completely lost in the storm without it! Thank you so much!"
"No need to thank us, dear. That's why we are here in the first place!" the old lady replied.
"You do seem pretty lost" the old man nodded. "Never seen two fellows like you around these parts".
"And your turbulent spirits seem to match the fury of the storm" the old lady giggled.
"Er... pardon?" Driver asked. Had they heard them fight? Oh, man, how embarrassing...
"Your green companion does have a pair of guns pointed at us" the old man pointed at something to her right.
"Wha- ZIM!" she hissed as she turned around to see Zim standing next to her in a defensive pose, face frowning, fists clenched, and laser guns steadily aimed at the old couple.
"Put those things down, Zim!" she urged him.
Zim ignored her, without even moving an inch or saying a word: he looked ready to fire at the perceived threat at the slightest provocation.
"Stop being so rude, you uncivil-" she growled at him, but the old lady interrupted her with a reassuring shake of her head:
"Oh, it's quite alright, my dear!"
"We understand if you don't trust us yet" the old man convened.
"The deep space is full of dangers" the old lady nodded gravely.
"Ah, thanks for being understanding!2 she smiled again, hoping now that Zim wouldn't randomly start shooting as they were talking.
"So, uhm these winds... and the mist... are they common around here?"
"Oh, they happen all the time" the old man confirmed.
"Do they? What causes them?" Driver asked.
"Who knows!" the old lady exclaimed.
"After all this time, it's still a mystery, even to us!"
"It could be because of shifts in the magnetic fields around here…"
"… or maybe a draft escaping from a nearby black hole!"
"Or perhaps it's the breath of a looong dead monster, that has still to fade out!"
"OR, maybe it's caused by the movements of a restless heart tossing and turning in a bed of tears!"
"Oh, that's the explanation I love the most!" the old lady chirped excitedly.
"This is, after all, a Lighthouse of Love" the old man sighed all dreamily.
Driver looked between the two of them, appalled. So this was the mental state of the only two living beings capable of helping them in that dire moment. Great.
She sighed, resisting the strong impulse to ask them: 'What the HELL are you two talking about?', and opted instead for a more sensitive:
"Ooooo...kay. Well, do you know when the storm will calm down? We're kind of in a hurry to leave again"
"Ah, the storms here are quite unpredictable!" the old lady replied.
"It might take a few hours" the old man speculated.
"Or a few seconds",
"A few years!"
"A few months!"
"Oh, ah- no, that can't be!" she shook her head with a worried smile. She wasn't one to easily despair, but she got the eerie feeling that getting stuck there forever was a very real possibility.
"We need to leave as soon as possible! We have a very important job to do! Isn't there any way we can traverse the storm right now? Perhaps you have a vehicle capable of that? I can pay you a lot for-"
"Oh, no!" the old man shook his head back at her. "Once the storm is in full swing, nothing and no one that is caught in it can escape it!"
"You'd end up stuck in there, swirling in the misty vortexes until the storm dies out on its own!"
"Or more likely, your ship will be torn apart by the wind before the storm stops!"
"Or, even more likely, you'll just end up right here again!" the old lady opened her arms to point at the platform they were on.
Driver looked up at the sky, full of worry: the clouds of smoke moved fast under the wind's violent blows. It didn't seem to her like the storm was about to calm down any time soon. If at least they knew what the cause of it all was!
"Would you like to come inside for some tea?" the old man proposed.
"Yes! What a wonderful idea!" the old lady clapped her hands with a gentle, but nonetheless excited motion.
"We will wait out the storm together!"
"Ah, I mean, we wouldn't wanna be any bother…" Driver scratched the back of her head awkwardly.
"Oh, you wouldn't bother us! Absolutely not!" the old lady reassured her.
"It's our duty as the Lighthouse Keepers to help all the travelers that land here!"
See, Zim? I was right, Driver mentally commented.
"Well, I guess we can't do much else anyway" she took a step towards the house, but
"HUMAN, are you out of your mind?!" Zim suddenly shouted, pulling her back by the edge of her jacket, "How can you trust these two lunatics? Have you HEARD how they speak?! Their tea is no doubt as poisoned as their tongues are! They'll knock you out and then MUNCH on your brains!"
"Oh my GOD Zim, zip it!" she pulled her jacket out of his hand, "You're the lunatic here! They're just trying to help us!"
"No, I am helping us!" Zim retorted. "There's no way I'm setting a single foot in their shady, dusty old shack of a light-house!"
"Well then, don't! But I am!" she patted on her chest. "I'm going to go into their house and drink their tea! Exactly like a normal person would! And you know what?", and then she added this with a more quiet, but harsher tone:
"If it kills me then good, at least then I'll be rid of your constant nagging!"
That really seemed to hurt him: his angry, determined frown changed into an unsure, disconcerted one. His antennae fell limply behind his head as if energy had been drained from them.
He took a step back, drawing the lasers inside his PAK, and stared at her with two big, sad eyes.
She couldn't help but feel a surge of sadistic satisfaction at that reaction.
Good. Now you know how I feel when you talk to me like that.
She turned around and followed the old couple inside the lighthouse.
Maybe something good would come out of this accident: finally she could interact with people that had nothing to do with Zim or the Boss or this stupid mission, and she may be able to take her mind off all of that for a bit. Too bad these people didn't seem to be… all there.
"Here we are!" the old lady smiled at her.
"Make yourself at home!" the old man added.
The first thing that struck Driver was the lighting: it was so bright she had to blink a couple times to get accustomed to it. It made sense, she supposed. Old people don't see very well. And those big black eyes suggested that their species was nocturnal in nature.
The house had a small doorway from which three other rooms branched off in three different directions: to the right, a kitchen, and to the left, a living room, both illuminated by the same bright, warm yellow light.
Straight ahead was a pitch black corridor that, considering its direction, probably led to the lighthouse proper.
She was surprised to see that the interior of the house looked nothing like what the exterior might have suggested: while the house appeared pretty much like an anonymous block of cement on the outside, on the inside it was over-decorated. The best way she could describe its overall aesthetic was an old people's home, but if it were in space.
Knick-knacks, photos and statuettes, some of them religious in nature, stared at her from every angle. The walls were covered in an old wallpaper with some kind of alien flower drawn on it; chandeliers with crystal pendants hung in every room. A vaguely moldy smell permeated the air as it is typical of old buildings.
Driver couldn't help but feel nostalgic: it reminded her of the old, cozy houses in the countryside that belonged to her grandparents. And also, admittedly, her own house.
The old couple lead her to the living room, proceeding with their slow, but smooth walk. As she walked behind them, she distractedly took note that their bug bodies ended with two centipede's tails. The pincers on their tips swayed left and right with each step.
The living room was structured around a coffee table, which was placed right in the center. There were two sofas, facing each other, parallel to the two opposing walls. On the other end of the room, a small TV of a brand she didn't recognize.
The only other piece of furniture was a cupboard full of expensive cutlery behind its glass door. Other than that, the room's walls were literally covered in paintings and photos, down to the very floor. The couple did strike her as the weird, artsy types: she had never seen so many paintings collected in one room. Well, except that time she'd robbed that alien museum… then again, the room in question was not nearly that small.
The old man sat comfortably on one of the sofas. The old lady stood by the living room's entrance, hands conjoined and ever-still smiling, like a maiden working for a rich mansion would have done.
"What a lovely house you have! I didn't think I'd find one like this in the depths of space!" Driver exclaimed, looking with wonder at the pictures on the walls.
Look how many there were! Of all sorts of sizes, and colors, and frames! They had to be at least one hundred in total!
Although… now that she was really focusing on them, she noticed that there was something very strange about them: it wasn't immediately noticeable, as they were all painted, photographed, and edited in different styles and color palettes, but upon attentive scrutiny they all depicted the same subject: the lighthouse.
Some included a view of the platform and the house, and in some of them the subject was very far away into space, but it was clear that the focus was the tower and the light on its top.
They must be... very dedicated to their job, Driver reasoned.
"Why, thank you!" the old lady thanked her.
"We're very glad that you overcame your distrust of us!" the old man said.
"Ah, yes. Sorry about that. My… partner can get a little paranoid at times"
"We're not offended at all, don't worry! I'm just happy that you'll both get to taste my tea!" the old lady chirped.
That last remark distracted her from continuing her (so far unsuccessful) search for a picture that didn't display the lighthouse:
"'Both'?" she asked.
"Ahem" somebody impatiently cleared their throat from below her, at her right.
She jumped, surprised to see that Zim had sneakily followed her all the way inside the house: he was standing next to her with his arms crossed, tapping his foot on the floor, a disgruntled expression on his face.
"Zim! What are you doing here? I thought you were going to go back to the ship!" she exclaimed.
Zim tilted his head up to her:
"I thought you wanted me to die here with you" he insinuated sarcastically. "Also, I want to be there when the tea they give you makes you throw up all of your organs".
Driver clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, ready to snap at him, but the old lady, seemingly unaware of the negative atmosphere between them, approached them from behind and said, with a happy voice:
"Now, now, why don't you two sit down on the couch and relax? I'll fix your tea in the meantime! It won't take long!"
And after she spoke, she dashed to the kitchen at an unexpected speed, moving quickly on her four feet: from the other side of the house soon came the sounds of clinking pots and of water flowing from a tap.
Driver gave Zim an angry, but impotent look.
So this is how it's going to be, uh? You want to ruin this for me too, don't you?
She headed to the couch in front of the one the old man was sitting on, and sat as far to the left as possible; Zim imitated her, sitting far from her on the right, an annoyed, angry expression depicted on both their faces, both trying their hardest not to look at each other.
The old man, more receptive to the situation than his companion was, let out a loud, raspy laughter:
"Ahr ahr ahr! Your rambunctious spirits remind me of myself in my youth! Oh, how I miss those days!"
"Do you, sir?" Driver asked. "I just think they're exhausting..."
"You tell me..." Zim grumbled.
"Ahr ahr ahr!" The old man laughed loudly again, apparently amused by their ongoing argument.
"Do you folks have names?" he asked them.
"You can call me Driver, sir" she replied.
"What about you, mister?"
Zim gave him a nasty, hostile, and near-murderous look.
"I am ZiM. I am an elite soldier from the Mighty Irken Empire" he stated. It sounded much more like a threat than an introduction -and it probably was.
"Ah, an Irken! I thought you didn't pick partners from other races!" the old man nodded, looking somewhat impressed. "Are you some kind of monkey, miss?"
"We don't…" Zim quietly mumbled.
"Actually, sir, I'm an ape" Driver answered.
"Oof! My bad, my bad. I'm not good at all at telling species apart"
"That's okay" she smiled at him. "What about you and the lady? What are your names?"
"The name of this gorgeous lady over here is Margaret" he held his hand out to the old lady, who had just come back from the kitchen: she gently squeezed it, and took a seat next to her companion, her smile as bright as ever.
"That's a lovely name!" Driver complimented her.
"And my name is Ojodfobnogbfnbgogbong!"
"That's a… long name" she hoped her comment would sound like a compliment. "Are you two married?"
"Yes", Margaret nodded.
"Happily so!" her husband added.
"Have been for a little more than five hundred years!"
"Oh, wow!" Driver let out. "And how long have you been living here?"
"Actually, we were on our honeymoon when we got here to the Lighthouse" the husband answered.
"And right away, we fell absolutely in love with this place!"
"So much so, that the previous Keepers kindly agreed for us to take their places".
"I see" Driver nodded. "Do you have substitutes that fill in for you from time to time?"
"Oh, no!" the old lady almost sounded scandalized.
"We never leave!"
"We could never!"
"We would never!"
Welp. That explained a lot, from the hundred pictures on the walls to their strange way of speaking: for five hundred years, they'd never experienced anything that wasn't the lighthouse or each other. No wonder they were obsessed with both. They didn't seem to be unhappy, though, and she almost envied them for that.
For the small price of your sanity, you get eternal happiness, she thought.
"Oh, I know how it must look" Margaret smiled. "But we aren't lonely at all. Plenty of people visit here actually!"
"Many young couples come here, just like we did when we first came here"
"Look, we keep pictures of each and every one of them!"
Margaret pointed at something behind her.
Driver turned around and looked: so there were, after all, pictures that didn't depict the lighthouse; just above her head was a long line of small framed photos, all lined up on a single, long shelf, all depicting couples of different alien species.
They ate them. That's how they survive, her mind suggested. They made them drink the drugged tea and then ate them alive in their sleep, just like they'll do to you.
She shook her head, trying to banish that absurd thought. It wasn't possible for them to survive on what had to be at most fifty or forty people for five hundred years! And they weren't cannibals, they were just senile and lonely! Zim's paranoia must have crept in her subconscious. She, too, had watched her fair share of Earth's slasher movies.
"I remember all their names" Margaret sighed.
"Haha, you do?" Driver giggled. But Margaret didn't laugh. In fact, she sounded incredibly serious and sad:
"Oh, yes. My hearts break every time they leave. It's like a part of me goes with them each time. At least, a part of them always lingers here, too..."
That's because you store their bodies in the walls- oh, shut up, brain. You're giving me the creeps!, she scolded herself.
"That is very sweet of-"
"Marix, Jink, Valve, Petre, Robin, John, Pinkred, Zeta, Markrux, Jod, Axlo, Ferna, Tredici, Beta, Nestor, Westen, Larbretta, Jena, Clevor, Hectora, Broom, Meta, Galaxia, Sterna, Spinne, Larxetta, Xigberto, Fernando, Leela, Derry, Necron, Mak, Black, Frudel, Salsa, Forketta, Mestolo, Tovajolo, Kukna, Basno, Fresco, Calpro, John (the other one), Shifter, Husker, Neftis, Plexus, Rita, Gergio, Mista, Volta, and Genevieve".
"From left to right, that is" Margaret smiled.
Driver stared at her for a moment. She had spoken in a continuous stride, without taking a single breath in between. Like she'd been reciting the alphabet, or a list of numbers.
She looked to her left and found that Zim, too, had turned to look at her: even he, who had looked bored out of his mind the whole time, seemed to be impressed by Margaret's feat -but maybe 'impressed' wasn't the right term. He looked terrified more than anything. His mouth moved slightly and slowly as he spoke very, very quietly, the words:
"Let's - go"
"And, and-uhm", she turned her face, trying to ignore him, "-all of them were couples?"
"Yes!" the husband replied.
"The Light seems to prefer those" Margaret explained.
"It is, after all, a Lighthouse of Love" the husband nodded.
"Ah… right" Driver smiled, wondering if they knew how downright (mental) goofy they sounded to others.
Then, a whistling sound suddenly came from the kitchen.
"Ooh, the tea's ready!" Margaret quite literally jumped off the couch and dashed back into the kitchen, again at a surprising speed.
"I gather that you two are a loving couple yourselves?" the husband asked.
"HAH!" Zim bursted, and in between giggles, he shook his head, repeating: "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. No, no. No way, no!".
"Yeah, no" she echoed. "He's short and he smells weird".
Zim turned to her with a sharp movement and fired at her an enraged, offended look.
"Ahr ahr ahr!" the old man laughed. "And how did you two meet?"
"That's none of your business-" Zim started speaking, but she interrupted him:
"We got drunk in a bar together" she explained.
"What! No way! Ahr ahr ahr!" the old man laughed even louder than before.
Driver leaned her back against the couch, crossed her legs, and nonchalantly swung her foot in the air.
"Yeah, and after that he waddled into my house, dropped asleep on my bed, ate my food, and decided to live in my basement. And just like that, this is my life now, I guess. Condemned to bicker with him and then crash on the most desolated asteroids (no offense) in the universe, over and over again, forever".
The old man was laughing so hard, his eyes started watering, and he had to slap one of his legs three times to calm down.
Zim crossed his arms and looked down, face darkened from the embarrassment.
"You're one to talk…" he mumbled. "You keep pictures of naked people in your house…"
"I what?!" Driver snapped from her nonchalant pose. "What did you just say?!"
"AHR AHR AHR! Oh boy, you are the funniest couple we've ever had over!" the old man said, wiping away his tears. "Ah, that reminds me! We have to commemorate this moment! Here-" and out of somewhere behind himself, he drew out an instant camera.
Both she and Zim cringed at that sight.
"Thanks, but I really don't like photos..." she shook her head.
"Don't you dare take a photo or I'll-" Zim started threatening him,but despite their pleas, the old man swiftly brought the camera in front of his face, aimed it at them, and flashed it into their eyeballs, blinding them instantly.
"Owww!" Driver lamented, massaging her sore eyes.
"Gyaaaa! Who said you could do that?!" Zim screeched, convulsing on his side of the sofa like he'd just been tased.
"Here, look" the old man said.
Driver peeked from her half-closed eyelids and saw him waving the picture in the air as the image appeared on it.
He showed it to them: they looked ridiculous. Zim had been caught in the middle of his angry screams, while she looked miserable and annoyed at once. Her eyes looked even more red than Zim's.
To be fair that's about how I imagined our first photo to be, she thought sadly.
"This will go right up on the shelf!" the old man looked at it, seemingly satisfied with the result.
Yes, go ahead. Put us right between all those happy, smiling couples. We'll fit in just great.
Just as she was about to protest that (at least take a better photo! Though she doubted Zim would ever stay still to pose…), Margaret came back carrying a tray with a tea set for four on it. As she walked, she left a trail of white steam behind her.
"Tea's here! I've got cream, sugar, lemon, and cookies too!" she beamed.
She placed the tray down on the tea table and started distributing the already-filled tea cups.
Driver was incredulous. It seemed like they were capable of moving much more quickly than they let on when they wanted. It was like their lower half was aging at a different rate than their more fragile upper half. Knowing how bizarre aliens could be, it was entirely possible.
"Thank you, I'll serve myself" she smiled at her, and started to pour the cream and sugar in her cup.
"What about you, young man?" Margaret asked Zim.
"I'm not drinking it" he growled.
"Oh, why? You don't like tea?" she asked with a saddened look.
"No, I don't think I'll like your tea, specifically" he precised.
"But this is the best tea from our home galaxy!" the old man intervened.
"Won't you have at least a little sip of it? At least try the cookies!" Margaret offered him the plate with the tea cookies.
"I'd much rather not die than eat your disgusting coo-kies, light-keeper" Zim hissed.
Margaret seemed to give up at that, though she wasn't nearly as offended as she should've been. She placed the cookies back on the tray and sat next to her husband.
Driver rolled her eyes as she stirred her tea. It looked perfectly fine to her: it was clear, and green, and invitingly fuming; it didn't smell weird, nor did it look like anything had been added to it. Besides, the old couple were clearly about to drink the tea too! How could it be drugged or poisoned? She really envied them, able to blissfully ignore Zim's paranoid, rude whining.
As far as she could see, these two were a perfectly normal old couple: they were kind and polite and accommodating. They hadn't stopped smiling from the moment they'd landed on their lighthouse, as, despite what they'd said, they probably felt very lonely. They were a bit slow and eccentric, yes, but what old person wasn't?
The only thing that she found a bit unnerving were their eyes. Maybe it was that association that her mind made with horror movies (so rude! If they knew about it they would have been mortified!), but they looked empty Like a dead fish's eyes. Or maybe like the eyes of a fish that was very much alive, but that lurked in the dark, still waters of the deep sea.
Well, they're clearly not mentally well. Of course it would reflect on their appearance. And old people are a bit unnerving by their very nature aren't they? Old age is a bit like a disease: at the end of the day, you're looking at a person's body that's slowly withering away… oh whatever, stop pontificating on this. This is just Zim's paranoia infecting you. Just smile and drink your damn tea!
Driver blew on her cup. She was about to take a sip of it, when Zim turned to her and ordered, with an authoritative, unusually deep voice:
"Don't drink that".
She glared at him, raising an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't drink that stuff, human" he repeated.
"Au contraire, I think that's exactly what I'm going to do" she sneered at him defiantly.
"I forbid you to drink it" he growled with a harder edge in his voice.
"Then make me" she growled back.
She turned away from him. She raised the cup closer to her mouth.
But just when it was about to touch her lips, something thin and metallic dashed from her right and hit the cup, shattering it in her hand: the tea and the cup's pieces exploded in her lap. The warm tea splashed all over her lap and legs. Pieces of porcelain, big and small, scattered all around her, hitting the hard floor with many little clinks.
"Oh dear!", "Woah!" Margaret and her husband exclaimed in surprise, and immediately got up from their places to assist her. Their faces looked worried and mortified.
Driver didn't have such a quick reaction. For a few seconds, she stood completely still, the small handle of the cup still in her hand- the only surviving piece of the cup. The tea quickly soaked into her pants and reached her skin, making her feel like she'd just peed herself.
She slowly turned her head to Zim: the PAK leg he had used to break the cup that was still extended out.
"Ooops. My leg slipped" he said with a sarcastic, petty voice. The leg folded back inside his PAK, as quickly as it had come out.
"Careful! Careful! Don't walk on the floor!" the old man warned everyone as he picked up the broken pieces of the cup one by one from the floor.
"Are you okay, dear? You didn't cut yourself, did you?" Margaret stood worriedly in front of her, extending her hands to help her.
Driver squeezed her eyes at the sound of their voices. Everything and everyone around her had suddenly become overwhelming, unbearable. Zim, the house, the tea seeping into her pants, the sofa, the two kind old people rushing in to help her: she hated them with a burning passion. Every. Single. One. Of them.
She clenched her hands, keeping them from reaching the gun under her jacket and shooting at the first thing it happened to be aimed at.
She just stood up sharply, sending the pieces of the cup that had fallen on her to the floor.
"May I use the restroom?" she muttered, struggling not to stutter from the anger.
"Of course!" Margaret nodded, and her excessively kind voice sounded to her like a piercing shrill. "It's the first door on the left down the corridor".
"Thanks" she mumbled as she quickly headed to the corridor, deliberately avoiding looking at Zim.
"No, wait, don't go!" she heard him say behind her.
Oh, to hell with you!
As she stepped into the dark corridor, a light above her turned on: on the ceiling was a line of automatic lights that turned on and off following the steps of the one who walked it.
It was probably an illusion caused by the absolute darkness in front of her, but it looked to her like the corridor was endless. It took her a strangely long time to reach the bathroom door, too (she counted about seven lights turning on before she saw it appear to her left), but it was better this way: she wanted to be as far as possible from everyone else.
She entered the bathroom and shut the door behind herself. She leaned against it, threw her hands over her face and let out a long, deep, tired, and anger-seething sigh.
She felt so angry, and frustrated, and confused at everything around her, she felt she might explode.
Why, just why was Zim that way?! That little… bipolar… gremlin! Embarrassing her in front of strangers! Suddenly pretending to care about her, just when it was most inconvenient for her! Right when she was trying to push him away, he suddenly turned all clingy and needy, completely out of the blue! Trying to get her attention and whining about it!
... but at the same time, maybe this was unfair to him. She knew how difficult it was for him to express his feelings. And he was an alien. She couldn't expect him to engage in romance like a human would, could she?
How stupid you are! she tried to shake off her regret, Stop feeling sorry for him! He's an ungrateful, entitled little man-child! It's too late to feel sorry now! Not after what he's said to you! After he's been… leading you on this way! So what if you take your anger on him?! He deserves all of this! He deserves to be hurt just like you were!
She felt a surge of pure disgust and shame at her own thoughts, so strong that it made her jump.
Oh, God. 'Leading me on?' Make him feel bad for rejecting me? Did I really just think that? And I have the audacity to call him cruel and childish?
She stroked her arms, and nervously bit her lip.
Maybe she deserved everything that was coming to her. Just look at her: blatantly lying to his face, hurting him on purpose, toying with his emotions. No sort of bad behavior on his part could possibly justify her own. And she somehow expected him to accept her as… what? His… girlfriend?
After all, all they ever did together was make out, chat about trivial subjects, lie to each other, and argue. Could she really blame him if all he expected from her were quick, emotionless making-out sessions and a space-bending machine? That's how she had approached him in the beginning. Was there any ground for this to get more serious? Was it even 'serious' in any meaningful way?
And maybe, like everyone around her repeated, Irkens really were incapable of true love: romance didn't exist on their planet. Yet she thought she could change the mind of a two-hundred-year-old alien in such a short span of time? What did she know about his biology anyway? Maybe it really was a problem with his PAK: how could she know about Irkens more than he did?
Driver felt a knot in her throat, and had to fight back the tears pushing behind her eyes.
She'd had let this little crush go way too far: even if unconsciously, she'd really hoped she could change this alien's mind and make him fall for her. After all these years being happily single, why now?! Why him?! An alien from a society with no concept of love, who was nonetheless involved professionally with her and the Boss!
And exactly because of this, the worst part of it all, there was no one to ask for advice or help. It was not like she could just say 'frick it' and walk away either: this was her job. She couldn't just come back to mister Krassmann empty-handed.
She was stuck.
The first day of the job, and I'm already a mess. Oh, God. There is no way I can pull this off for the weeks to come…
She pressed her hands against her closed eyes, and she shook her head.
Man, she'd really softened up. How pathetic.
"Enough with this" she stated out loud.
She had got herself stuck in that mess and she was going to have to deal with it. After they left the lighthouse, she was almost sure that if she just acted like nothing had ever happened, Zim would have done so too.
Probably, if she just caved in and gave him what he wanted, it would have been enough to stop his probing about that morning.
Just pretend everything is okay and give everyone what they want.
Just like a prostitute would do.
She grumbled at her own intrusive thoughts. This was as good a time as any to go out and start pretending everything was fine: let's leave the bathroom and help clean up the mess in the other room. Things had probably gotten even tenser with Zim all alone with the old couple.
Speaking of the bathroom… she now noticed that it was rather different from the rest of the house: it had a white ceiling light. White were also the toilet, the sink, the small cabinet in the corner, and the bathtub, as well as the walls. It felt… cold. Bare and anonymous. It was exactly the type of room she would have expected by looking at the bunker-like exterior. But why such a contrast with the rest of the house?
Maybe they didn't have enough money to decorate it. Or simply didn't feel the need to.
Two very reasonable explanations, and yet, suddenly she felt very uncomfortable being in that quiet, white little room. And just out of the door behind her back, there was that pitch-black darkness, waiting for her.
Another shiver of fear shook her spine. She wasn't sure she wanted to wait out the storm with the old couple in that weird house any more.
Let's just take Zim and go back to the ship. If the storm hasn't calmed down in a few hours, We'll just try to cross it again, she planned.
Driver turned around and opened the door.
A white statue with two huge black eyes stood just out of the room, smiling at her.
"JESUS-!" Driver jumped backwards, so scared that she was pretty sure her heart stopped pumping for a full second.
Of course, that was no statue: it was Margaret, with her hands joined in her lap and her polite smile ever-stretched on her face.
"Lady, you scared me! What are you doing here?!" Driver panted, her heart pounding.
"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear" she apologized. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay"
"Thank... you. Don't worry" Driver said as she closed the door behind her.
"I'm very sorry about the teacup, I- I really don't know what to say..."
"Don't worry about it! It was just a little cup! More importantly… I don't mean to intrude, but, is everything alright between you and your little boyfriend, Zim?" she asked, her smile giving way to a concerned expression.
"Ah, uhm..." Driver hesitated to answer.
"You don't need to answer, of course. But you seem especially… stressed. If you need someone to vent to, I promise I won't tell him anything!" she stroked her shoulder in a reassuring and complicit gesture.
Normally she wasn't one to expose herself to strangers, but… she could tell that the old lady meant well. What harm could come from venting for a bit? She was desperate for any kind of advice at this point: she would have done well taking the chance now that she could.
"Well… things aren't… going well at all, to be honest" she stuttered, feeling the tears push back behind her face again, trying to flood out.
"We really rushed into this relationship. I, I don't even know if I can call it a relationship! I don't even know for sure if he cares about me…" she stopped and gulped, trying hard not to cry.
"A-ah, I am… kind of envious of you and your husband, to tell you the truth. You two seem so close. You've spent a lifetime together! How do you know if someone is right for you? How do you know for sure that someone is honest about their feelings for you? And… how do you know if it's worth to stick by someone? Is it ever worth it if they treat you badly?" she paused for a moment, and let out a nervous laugh.
"Haha, I'm sorry I guess I am… kind of rambling now, aren't I?"
"Don't worry, dear" the old lady shook her head, speaking with a gentle, understanding voice: "It's okay to be confused. Feelings are never easy. A relationship takes time and work. We all have our ups and downs. You have to be patient with your lover, provided that he does the same for you".
"I mean, that's… the problem" Driver muttered. "He doesn't really… reciprocate me much".
"Well, I don't know you two very well, but, hehe" she giggled, shaking her head, "While I certainly am not a cannibal like he thinks I am, that Zim guy does seem to be very protective of you today, doesn't he?"
"Well, I guess he… does" she reflected. Somehow, that detail had flown over her. She had interpreted his protectiveness as entitlement. Was Zim genuinely trying to protect her, in his own weird way?
"I think he's just a little bad at communicating his feelings. Many men are. The best thing you can do is open yourself up and be honest with him! If there's love, everything will work out. And if there's not, well… you're still so young. You still have a lot of time to find the love you deserve! It might seem all gloomy now, but who knows what the future will bring? You think I would have ever imagined ending up here, leading the best life I could ever ask for, by my love's side? You can't know it won't happen for you too! Have you not gone through terrible times, in the past, when you thought everything was hopeless? And yet, here you are. I'm sure not long from now, everything happening right now will look insignificant in the grand scope of things!"
Driver drew a breath of relief.
"Hah… thank you so much, lady. You're right" she smiled at her, grateful and genuinely feeling better. "I really needed to be reminded of that".
Margaret suddenly gestured to her with her hand to come closer. Then, she spoke quietly, as if she was telling her a secret:
"Actually, me and Ojodfobnogbfnbgogbong used to fight all the time. We had our very worst fight during our honeymoon, in fact. I almost thought of leaving him, back then..."
"Really?" Driver asked, surprised. "I would have never guessed. How did you work it out?"
"Well, I know you won't believe me, but… it was the Lighthouse. It restored our relationship!"
Driver's hopeful smile faltered.
Oh, no. Not this again.
"We were caught in the storm during our fight and crashed here, just like you and Zim did. We looked into its Light, and it showed how ridiculously insignificant our quarrels were. It really is a Lighthouse of Love like Ojodfobnogbfnbgogbong says!"
Seeing the doubt on her face, Margaret closed in even further, trying to assume a more serious tone:
"I know it's difficult to understand unless you look at the Source directly. And as the Keeper, I'm not supposed to show you the Light, but I can show you this" she held out her heart-shaped locket, holding it by its chain.
"I keep a picture of the Light in here, so that it never really leaves me"
"You… carry around the picture of a lamp?" Driver asked, unable to contain her confusion.
Ignoring her question, Margaret opened the locket to her, and to Driver's great surprise, something was shining inside of it.
Curious, she took a closer look. At first, she thought it had to be electronic, but she couldn't see a lamp, and it didn't look like neon, either: it was as if the smooth surface of the locket's interior was shining out of its own light.
Or better yet, of the bright, yellow light of the lighthouse: she didn't know how, but she instantly knew it was the same light.
Suddenly, she found herself unable to take her eyes off the light: even though she was staring straight at it, it didn't strain her eyes. And it felt good. It felt relaxing. She wasn't exactly feeling 'love', but she did feel at peace. She knew now what the old lady had meant: she really did feel like all her problems didn't matter much at all anymore.
She neared her hand, basking it in the light, and found that it was also emanating a pleasant warmth. Like a flame that didn't burn.
It's so, so beautiful, she thought. Even Zim would have to admit looking at it.
Unconsciously, she stepped closer.
She neared both her hands, her back hunched down towards the locket.
She wanted to hold it in her own hands. She wanted to touch it. She wanted to have it for herself. She wanted to…
In the distance, the sound of a familiar voice distracted her from her trance.
Then, after that, the distinct sound of firing lasers definitely broke her from it.
"Whu- wha-?" she muttered, disoriented, her body jerking like she'd just woken up from a dream.
She looked left and right, suddenly unaware of her surroundings.
In doing so, she caught a glimpse of something shining up in the air.
A blade.
There was a dagger hovering above her, shining under the ceiling's light.
It was pointed at her. It was being held by a hand, an alien hand.
Her gaze trailed down from the hand, to its arm, to the person it was attached to: it was Margaret.
She was still in front of her, but she wasn't smiling anymore. Rather, there was an astonished, scared look on her face. Her other hand was still holding the luminous heart locket.
They stared at each other like that for a few seconds, both equally surprised at each other, both petrified, and afraid to make the first move.
Finally, Margaret's lips tentatively curled into a forced smile, and she spoke:
"I'm… I'm not trying to murder you"
"Yes" Driver nodded. "Yes, you are".
With a swift movement, Driver drew her gun from under her jacket, pointed it at Margaret's chest and fired.
Margaret displayed again that incredible swiftness and agility and jumped up, narrowly avoiding Driver's shot, which struck the wall behind her.
She was so quick, Driver could barely follow that movement; from above her, something made of glass broke, its shards falling all around her. At the same time the light turned off, throwing the corridor into absolute darkness: Margaret had broken the one ceiling light that had been turned on.
Driver looked up: everything was pure, pitch black. The only light present in the corridor was now the heart locket, hanging from Margaret's neck. Margaret herself was hanging upside down from the ceiling, using her long four legs to keep herself between the walls.
The locket cast an uncanny light on her pale face, and since that was the only light source in the dark corridor, it made it look like a spectral body-less floating head.
Margaret looked like a completely different person now: her expression was cold and emotionless. Her big black eyes looked like two deep, dark pits. And they were hostilely pointed right at Driver.
Slowly, her mouth opened up. It opened wider, and wider, wider than any human mouth could do, and the inside of her mouth looked completely black, too, like a black hole ready to swallow her whole.
Driver thought that she would now proceed to scream, but what she did was way, way worse: her throat started vibrating. Gradually, a low, cackling, guttural sound climbed up her throat, making her sound like she was choking.
"Gkh gkh gkh gkhiiiiii gkhiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…." the sound slowly became louder and louder and shriller and shriller, it filled the pitch black air around her, it filled her ears, it made her bones and her heart reverberate, and eventually it turned into an inhuman, ear-piercing screech that made her very blood freeze in her veins.
"O-oh..." Driver unintentionally let out. She was so utterly terrified, that she'd forgotten she was holding a gun, she couldn't run away, she couldn't even scream.
Her body subconsciously took a step back, and much to her luck, that activated the corresponding ceiling light.
The light turning on finally snapped her out of her paralysis: she raised her gun and fired it again with three consecutive shots.
But once again, Margaret was quicker than her: she swiftly stepped back, evading her shots, and landed on the floor far from her, activating the light behind the broken one.
The shots made the ceiling collapse in a heap of rubble and dust.
Driver looked down, and to her horror, she realized that rubble wasn't the only thing that had fallen off: mixed with it, there were also… bones.
There were bones scattered all over the floor amidst the pieces of the ceiling. Limbs, ribs, and skulls, all alien, and by the look of it, belonging to members of different species.
Her mind immediately went to the couples pictured in the photos in the living room, and that was enough to make her voice return, too:
"AAAH! HOLY SSSHHHH...OOT!" she screamed.
Thump, thump, thump, Margaret started running towards her, growling, and fending the air with the dagger with random, but lethal sways.
Driver shot, aiming for her head, but hit her hand instead as she swung the dagger down, making the weapon fly out of her grasp.
Shrilling in pain, Margaret tripped over the heap of rubble and bones and crashed into Driver, making her fall backwards. When she hit the floor, her gun, too, slipped out of her hand.
The massive adrenaline rush she got from that allowed Driver to roll and get back on her feet quicker than Margaret could: she immediately bolted away from her attacker as fast as she could, so fast that the automatic lights could barely keep up with her.
As she neared the dim light at the end of the corridor, she realized with horror that she was running the wrong way: instead of running towards the house, she was running towards the lighthouse.
As she crossed the entrance, she found herself at the base of the tower. A black, tall pillar was in the center; placed on its top, she could see the spinning light of the lighthouse. A spiral staircase was wound around it, leading right to it. No other doors or passages were in sight. The only way to go was up.
Wuuuuuu. Outside, the wind howled furiously.
Driver instinctively ran up the small metal steps, but just when she got halfway through the first curve, she realized that that wasn't at all the smartest decision to take: climbing up, she was essentially cornering herself further.
And besides, Margaret didn't seem to be following her anymore: maybe she'd decided she wasn't worth the effort, and instead had opted to turn around and help her husband against Zim.
Oh God, Zim… the scream she'd heard, the lasers… it must've been him… the old man had attacked him at the same time as Margaret had attacked her! He was in danger!
She managed to take one step down the stairs, when she froze: against her prediction, Margaret entered the lighthouse from the corridor.
She was holding her bleeding ruined hand, and writhing in pain and anger.
For a second, Driver naively hoped that she wouldn't notice her in that dim light. But Margaret's black eyes found her immediately, and stared at her.
"GHHHHHHHHYOUUUUUUUUU!" she let out again a horrible sound that was a mix between a cackle, roar, and a human scream.
Driver's hair stood up on her nape, and she let out a strangled yelp. There was no way she could get past her. Her only hope was to find a way to evade her at the top, then somehow climb back down to help Zim.
Again, she bolted up, running as fast as she could, only now she could hear the steps of that monster, much heavier than hers, hitting the metal stair, as she chased her.
This all felt so surreal. The stairs flowed under her so easily, she could barely tell she was running up. She could barely even feel his legs.
Never before in her life had the possibility of dying been so concrete.
Oh God Almighty I swear if you let me survive this I'll dust up the old crucifix I keep in the attic and hang it again in the kitchen and pray to you everyday before bed oh please please please don't let me die!
When she reached the platform at the top, the light of the lighthouse hit her, momentarily disorienting her.
She took a moment to look around herself, searching for something she could use to defend herself (oh why did I have to drop the goddamn GUN): all around her were glass walls; outside, she could see the storm raging. The wind hit hard on the structure from all sides.
The platform had a semicircular shape whose edge ran along the source of the light: it wasn't a lamp. It was nothing but a floating sphere of light. A ray was projected out of it, spinning on itself.
Standing between Driver and the light were two chairs, each with a little nightstand next to it. There was also a wardrobe, a commode, and a standing mirror stacked in one corner of the room.
Well, I didn't see the bedroom on the way here, did I? … This is a real-life house of horrors, isn't it?
Immediately, she ran to grab one of the chairs, and she turned around holding it by its back. But as soon as she did so, Margaret threw herself onto her.
"SON OF A-"
The old alien had jumped with such strength, she made Driver fall butt first onto the floor (ouch); she grabbed the chair by two of its legs, pushing through the pain of her bleeding, mutilated hand with incredible determination, and pushed down, making Driver's head hit the floor (OUCH).
Now Margaret was above her, with only the chair between them. The light of the lighthouse spun, hitting them rhythmically at the end of each spin. It reminded Driver of one of those cheap thriller movies where the fight scenes had to be lighted sporadically and badly in order to appear exciting.
Only in this case, the effect was actually terrifying.
"AAAH! NO, NO! STOP!" Driver desperately tried to keep her away with the chair.
Margaret struggled furiously against the piece of furniture, grunting, growling, screaming.
"Aaaaargh! I won't let you have it!" the alien monster screeched. She stretched her face forward as far as she could, foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal, "You won't have my Light! You will never have it! Never never never NEVEEER!"
Driver shouted back at her, full of rage herself:
"I DON'T WANT YOUR STUPID LIGHT, YOU DUMB OLD CUN-" a huge drop of saliva fell from Margaret's mouth and landed right in the middle of her forehead.
"NOOO! YOU'RE DROOLING ON ME! YOU'RE DROOLING ON ME! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP THAT, STOP THAAAT!" Driver desperately flailed her legs around, trying to roll from under the monster or kick her off, but she was just too strong and heavy for her.
Margaret let out another screech, and another string of drool dropped on her neck, making her skin crawl in disgust and humiliation.
She couldn't resist much longer like that. Soon, that monster would get past that chair. And then-
She's gonna eat me alive she's gonna eat me face first she's gonna chew on my face with those rotten old teeth and I'm gonna feel all of it oh god OH DEAR LORD-
Driver felt tears streaming down her cheeks.
Gathering all the breath the could, she screamed, as loud as she was physically capable of:
"ZIIIIIIM! ZIM, HELP ME, PLEASE!"
Zim watched the old she-alien with the ridiculous name walk into the corridor; to 'check if everything was alright with the miss', she'd said.
At first, he considered going after her: she was no doubt trying to catch the Driver-human off guard and alone, but at this point, he was tired of trying to save her: all his exceptionally merciful efforts to help her had been met with refusal and insults. If she wanted to die so badly, so be it. What did he care anyway?
And at any rate, were those two even that dangerous? Sure, they were trying to kill them, and they were somehow able to control a storm, but they were also old, and small, and frail, and completely delusional. As long as the human had her gun, that old senile monster had pretty much no chance against her.
Yup. She was undoubtedly going to be just fine without any need of help from his part.
Meanwhile, the old he-alien with the normal name had finished cleaning up the broken pieces of the cup and the spilled tea; he went back to his place on the couch and raised his own tea cup.
"Aaah, women, am I right?" he sighed, blowing on his fuming tea. "They always need a friend to accompany them to the bathroom. They feel more secure that way, I think"
"Do they…?" Zim asked, unsure. "The human managed just fine on her own until now..."
"Oooh, so her species is called 'human'" he added sugar to his tea and stirred it. "Well, no matter the species, women are all the same. Now, of course, I love my Margaret with all my two hearts, but between you and me, son, sometimes she drives me totally mad"
"Does she...?" Zim asked. "And it's because she's a woman?"
"Ahr ahr ahr!" Ojodwhatever laughed out loud before gurgling down his tea in one go. When he was done, he lowered the cup to fill it again.
He nodded decisively, and then added:
"You know how females are. One moment, they are fine. One moment later, it's like the world is falling apart. And you can bet that they're going to find a way to blame you for it!"
"Oh" Zim let out, surprised. "Driver does do that..."
"You do one small little thing, and they overanalyze it and blow it out of proportion…"
"That… does sound like her…"
"... they send you cryptic signals and then expect you to put them together and guess what they are thinking…"
"YES! Oh, how I hate it when she does that!" Zim exclaimed, excited at having his frustrations validated: the old man may have wanted to kill him, but he did seem to understand what he was going through!
"... one moment they are clingy, and the moment after they act like they don't want to see you ever again..."
Ojodwhatshisname took a cup from the table and handed it over to Zim, who took it without thinking.
"I know exactly what you mean! She acts like I'm the incoherent one, but it's she who acts completely unpredictable!" Zim nodded.
"And as time goes on, they get even worse!" Ojodtoolongtospellitall continued, adding sugar into Zim's tea. "They feel entitled to your person: they want to change you to their liking. They lose any sense of boundaries and try to get inside your head"
"You wouldn't believe how nosy that human is!" Zim complained, stirring his tea and sugar with a spoon. "Always asking me how I feel, and what I'm thinking about! Like, get a real hobby!"
"Then again, I wouldn't change Margaret for anyone" Ojod smiled, suddenly looking sweeter. "For love, we can stand this and more"
"Oh, no, no!" Zim shook his head and giggled. "I don't 'love' her. I don't 'love' at all!"
"... you don't, do you?" the old man's tone changed again, from sweet and warm to lax and… honest, somehow. Before, his voice sounded fake, calibrated, like he was purposefully trying to sound charming and cheesy. As he spoke from then on, his voice lost that artificial note, and for the first time he sounded completely lucid.
"So did you two really meet in a bar?" he asked with curiosity.
"Eh… er… yeah..." Zim admitted.
"Excuse me if I ask, but why did you pick her?"
"Me? No, she picked me! Do you really think that out of all the wretched species in the universe I would have picked a human if I had a choice?! They bring nothing but trouble! She wrecked my ship, pointed a gun at me and threatened me, I almost burned alive, AND I ended up here! And then, THEN, when despite all this I still try to help her, she treats me like I'm the crazy one!" Zim vented out his frustrations.
"If it wasn't for the sake of the mission, I would have never stuck around her…" he mumbled as he blew on his tea.
"Wow. She sounds like a nightmare" the old man said with pity in his voice.
"She is!" Zim nodded.
"Is she good in bed at least?"
"Uh… in bed?" Zim confusedly asked. Was he asking him if the human was capable of… lying on a bed? Making a bed?
"Er… yes?" he guessed.
"Hah!" Ojod snorted and chuckled.
"I see, I see. That's what they say about crazy women. I think unless she threatens to kill you or something, you should keep doing her. And even then, they're never serious about it anyway. You've got nothing to fear from a woman, believe me".
… 'Doing her'? Doing her what? Zim didn't really fully get what he was referring to, but from his tone he understood that what he was saying about the human must have been rather… unflattering.
Suddenly, the sense of comradery he'd felt with the old man turned to discomfort.
"I gotta tell you, though. I think you could do way better" Ojod added.
"What do you mean?" Zim asked.
"Ah, you know, she is kind of..." he waved his hand in front of his own face. "I mean, let's be honest, monkeys aren't exactly a beacon of beauty, are they?"
"… Oh" Zim murmured.
"And I've heard they're barely intelligent enough to even make fire, or wheels. I bet she sticks to you because you can drive a ship"
"Well, uh-"
"What they do best is lazing around and drinking their brains out. Though I suppose that's why they're worth keeping around. Sometimes you just gotta go for the low hanging fruit and have some easy fun, uh? Uh? Ahr ahr ahr!" he let out a loud laughter, and then gurgled all the rest of his second teacup in a series of loud gulps.
Zim stared at him speechless for a few moments.
Then, though he didn't know exactly why, he felt a strong surge of rage arise from within him.
"The Driver-human isn't ugly" he growled at the old man.
"… What?" Ojod's eyes widened, confused and surprised at his reaction.
"And she isn't dumb! She's the one that drives the ship, you know! She's a pilot! That's why her name is Driver!" Zim's voice became louder and angrier.
"… easy, now. I was just saying-"
"And she isn't lazy and she isn't a drunkard!" Zim interrupted him.
"What I meant was-"
"Humans are apes, not monkeys, you ignorant dolt!" he screamed. "And she isn't crazy! She's just angry because I, I-" he scrambled to find the right words, and then finally concluded:
"... because I treated her badly earlier!"
"You should calm down, pal" Ojod murmured, his smile now completely gone from his face. "There's no reason to get angry. Here, look".
He took his heart-locket in his hand and turned it to Zim.
"Look at the Light. You'll surely feel better then".
"What li-"
Ojod opened the locket, and it shone brighter than any of the lamps in the room.
Zim stared at it, surprised: that was no regular light. It was of the same kind as the one in the light-house: he could feel it.
He couldn't really turn his eyes away from it, but it wasn't making him any less angry. He didn't feel 'better' at all. All it was doing for him was making his head spin and his guts feel nauseous.
"There, see? Everything's okay now" Ojod said with a soothing voice. "Why don't you drink your tea now?"
"Tea…?" Zim looked down to find that he was holding a full tea cup in his hands.
"AAAH! Who put this here?!" he exclaimed. "You were trying to trick me into drinking it, weren't you? This stuff IS poisoned, isn't it?!"
"... no it isn't"
"HA, I KNEW IT!"
Zim threw the cup at Ojod: he avoided it with unexpectedly quick reflexes.
Then, with even more unexpected speed, Ojod stepped onto the tea table, making the tray and its content fall and crash onto the ground, and launched himself onto him.
Zim drew out his PAK legs, but he wasn't quick enough to avoid the old man charging him: they both fell backwards, the sofa flipping on its back under their weight.
Zim hit his head on the floor behind him and let out a pained grunt. Through his teary eyes, he could see the old man's disgusting head on his chest; he fired his lasers, but none were in the position to hit the aggressor.
"You should have just drunk the tea…" Ojod growled, raising both his head and his hand: he was still holding his own tea cup.
Zim followed his movements and miraculously managed to dodge most of the cup when he tried to smash it on his face: he heard a loud sound of crashing porcelain right next to his left ear, and felt a sharp pain in the corresponding cheek.
"AARGH! LET GO OF ME!" he shouted, enraged and panicked.
The old man swiftly grabbed two of his PAK legs with his hands, pointing them away from himself; he blocked the other two using his legs. The horrible shining locket swung in front of Zim's face, making his head spin.
Far away, from the corridor, he could hear the familiar gunshot of Driver's gun fire. Zim's panic grew even more.
"GET OFF ME! Get off me, you CREEP!" he struggled and fired more unsuccessful shots.
"Accept the Light, son" Ojodchanted. "Accept it..."
Zim heard a terrifying howl coming from the corridor, followed by more gunshots.
Then, Driver screamed.
"NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER?!" he shouted.
Above them, Zim's lasers finally hit a right target: the chandelier that hung above them broke and fell right onto the monster's head. That disoriented him enough to slacken his grip on Zim's legs.
Zim took the chance to punch him as hard as he could in his ugly old face: the Ojod-monster gave out a pained shriek, he rolled on his side, and Zim was finally able to escape from under his body.
Zim immediately got on his PAK legs and ran towards the corridor.
"Driver! Driver, where are you?!" he screamed.
He ran along the dark tunnel, the lights progressively lighting up as he proceeded. When he was about in the middle of it, he caught a glimpse of something on the floor: a disordered heap of some sort. When he got close enough for the ceiling lights to shine on it, it turned out to be rubble mixed with... bones. Not far from them, he saw Driver's ray gun, lying on the floor.
Zim fell on his knees, absolutely heartbroken and in despair.
"OH NO! NO!" he lamented. "I'm too late! She killed her, cloned her, ate her flesh down to the bone, and then deformed her cloned dead bodies into several different alien species, just to mess with my head! How CRUEL! Why, oh WHYYY?!"
"... This... is not Driver's corpse, is it?"
As to confirm his brilliant deduction, he heard the Driver scream again from the other side of the tunnel. Along with the same demon screech as earlier.
Enormously relieved, Zim ran again, picking up the ray gun as he dashed past it, and soon he reached the end of the corridor and stepped into the light-house tower.
He climbed the spiral staircase as fast as he could: from above came the Driver-human's desperate screams. Zim felt his guts clench at that: hopefully, he was still in time to save her.
When he finally reached the top of the tower, he saw her struggling on the floor, under the old she-beast's attacks.
"ZIIIIIIM! ZIM, HELP ME, PLEASE!" she screamed, unaware of his presence, and Zim felt an even greater fury against that horrible monster.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Zim leaped and launched himself against the monster's body: she rolled away on her side, letting out a surprised and angry screech. She stopped right on the edge of the platform, in front of the source of that horrible spinning light.
Zim landed in front of the Driver-human and pointed her gun against the beast, placing himself between her and the monster.
The monster slowly got up on her horrible four legs and glared at him with a look full of anger and hatred. A disgusting white foam was streaming down her mouth.
"DON'T MOVE!" he threatened her- "I KNEW you were trying to kill us! How foolish of you to go against the great and powerful ZiM! Well, now you are at my mercy! And after all you've done, don't expect any of-"
"AAAARGH!" Driver bolted past him screaming at the top of her lungs, and charged the old alien holding a chair: she hit her on her chest and shoulder, pushing her off the edge of the platform.
"GYAAAAAAA!" the alien let out one last surprised scream, before falling onto the floating ball of energy behind her: her whole body was instantly pulverized the moment it touched it.
"WOAH!" Zim exclaimed.
He carefully approached the human from behind: she was still holding the chair and looking at the light, panting heavily and loudly, her whole body trembling.
"I knew this thing was dangerous!" he said, looking at the spinning light of (now confirmed) death. He then turned to the human:
"You didn't need to do that, by the way! I had everything under-oh"
The light of death spun on itself and shone on Driver's face: she looked terrible.
Her face was pale and dirty with sweat and tears and a slick substance he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was. Her eyes were wide open, and she was crying, and from her expression he could see she was absolutely terrified out of her mind; her entire body was shivering so much, even the chair she was holding was trembling with her. Her breaths were shallow, like she was struggling to breathe.
"Are... are you okay?" he dared to ask.
"NO! NO I'M NOT OKAY!" she shrieked, dropping the chair on the ground. "THAT THING TRIED TO EAT ME ALIVE! AND SHE DROOLED ON ME! SHE DROOLED ON MY FACE! SHE DROOLED ON MY HAIR!" she shouted as she spasmodically passed her hands on her face in a sloppy attempt to clean it.
Looking more and more panicked, her hands trailed down from her face, to her neck, to her chest.
"A-and, oh GOD, the drool is now streaming down my chest! It's on my BOOBS! I HAVE MONSTER DROOL ON MY BOOBS!"
The human flopped on the floor, her trembling legs unable to support her weight. Slowly and weakly, she raised a shivering hand in front of him.
"H-hold m-my hand-" she stuttered.
"Eh-"
"PLEASE, HOLD MY HAND!" she desperately shouted, going at the same time into a full-on hyperventilating fit.
"OKAY, OKAY!" he immediately grabbed her hand: she'd screamed so loud, it'd almost scared him.
Initially, she squeezed his hand so hard it hurt him; and she was trembling so strongly, it was making his arm shake too.
Up until now, from the moment they'd stepped on that cursed platform, he'd eagerly waited for the moment when he could boast to her for being right about the murderous intentions of the two old monsters, but now that he saw her like that, terrified, and crying, all he could feel was pity and compassion for her.
He uncomfortably looked left and right, trying to think of a way to calm her down.
"Eh... come on, human. Don't worry. You're safe now. She's dead" he tried.
"I'm… I'm so… so gross" she sobbed.
"You're not… gross. It's just the drool on you! I'm sure it will come off easy with enough water and soap!"
"A-ah, I… oh God, this is so humiliating…" she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away from him.
"I wanna die..." she choked out.
Zim felt his guts churn in discomfort at those words.
"Oh, human, no… er..."
Compassion was such a horrible feeling to feel. And why was consoling people so damn hard?!
Imitating a move he'd seen back on Earth, he patted on her back. He might have been too strong for her frail human rib cage though, because she gave a couple of coughs when he did so.
"Don't… die" Zim muttered. "I came all this way for you not to do just that".
That seemed to work: slowly, her grip on his hand softened, and her heavy breathing slowed down.
"... Zim, you... you saved my life" she finally mumbled in a quiet, timid voice.
… he had?
"Uh... yes, I... did" he said, now surprised at his own actions.
"So you… you… care about me?" she asked.
"I... I guess… I do…? I mean… I didn't want you to die" he explained. More to himself than to her, really.
"Zim, I'm... I'm so, so sorry" she apologized, her eyes watering again. "I treated you terribly, I... I should have listened to you. I put us both in danger. I knew something was up, but I ignored it because… because- oh, I'm so, so stupid. Please, forgive me" she pleaded to him.
"Eh, it's... don't worry, it's okay" he shook his head, unable to look directly at her sad eyes. "I... didn't act... very fair to you either today".
The human let go of his hand, placing her own on the ground. She seemed to have finally calmed down.
"Here" Zim handed the ray gun back to her.
"Ah... thank you" she said as she took it.
"Wait... where's the other one?"
"Oh, poor Margaret" a deep, somber voice resonated from the stairs: the Ojod-thing had quietly reached the platform.
"Look what they've done to you".
He took a couple of steps towards them. Smears of dark blood were around his nose and mouth, due to the punch Zim had given him. The spinning light intermittently shone on him. He looked older, somehow. And lighter. Thinner. Like you could easily blow him away like smoke.
"You" Zim growled with anger, positioning himself yet again in front of the human.
"But that's okay!" the old alien sighed. "She's one with the Light now. Now she's happy. Now she'll never die".
He then turned his attention to them, and said:
"The tea trick had never failed. And the Love Locket, especially, had never failed. You must be seriously not right in the head not to succumb to its power, young man"
"Ha! My head is just too superior for your stupid light tricks!" Zim boasted.
"No, I'm serious. It's not a good thing. There's something seriously wrong with you, son. Only a madman would be turned off by the literal Light of Peace"
"You're just jealous of my awesome brain power!" Zim puffed his chest pridefully.
The old man stopped walking towards them. He conjoined his hands, staring at them still. Then, he spoke again:
"I suppose you're both wondering: 'why?' 'Why all of this?' 'What's the meaning of all of this?' Well, that I shall explain it to you. It all started centuries ago, when-"
Driver swung her gun up and shot him right in the middle of the face: it exploded in a million little pieces. The old man's body fell lifeless to the floor.
"AAAH!" Zim shouted, "Why did you do that?!"
"Oh, man. Sorry" Driver turned to him, "You were interested in what he was saying?"
"I... well, no, but that was startling!" Zim explained. "You're very quick with that gun!"
"Not quick enough…" she groaned.
She stuck a hand under her shirt, and when she drew it out, it was covered in slick, gross alien saliva. Disgusted, she wiped her hand on the floor. Damn Margaret. Damn Margaret and her stupid old mouth. She'd hoped that the light would burn her, but she'd also hoped for it to happen slower.
"Pfff... hehehe… hahaha… hahaha!" Driver suddenly started laughing.
She didn't sound very happy, though. In fact, she sounded a bit hysterical.
"What's so funny?" Zim asked.
"Haha, I'm sorry, it's just... they tried to kill us first, but we- uhuhuh, we are alive, and- and they are dead! Hahaha! Plus, plus, when the husband's head exploded it reminded me of this vine of a watermelon being shot!"
Zim had no idea what the latter thing meant, but he agreed with the first statement: that was pretty hilarious!
"Hehehe, you're right!" he giggled. "Stupid dumb cannibals! If they hadn't tried to kill us, they'd still be alive!"
"I know, right?! Hahaha!" she laughed harder.
"Gyahahaha!" he followed, his laughter fueled by hers.
"Hahahahaha!"
Their loud laughter resounded in unison, filling the empty, dark inner space of the light-house tower. It was a sound so strong, so triumphant, so full of life, it managed to suffocate the furious winds outside- yes, this was their triumph, over the stupid 'peace-light' of the tower, over the storm, over the darkness – they had overcome all of them! Who knew that a victory shared with someone else could still feel so complete?
Looking at the human, laughing so hard that she had to keep her hands on her hurting stomach, Zim now understood what she'd meant when she'd said that seeing him laughing made her want to kiss him.
And he would have gladly done it too, if it wasn't for the drool covering her face.
"He- h-hey, Zim, by the way, are you hurt?" Driver asked when she finally managed to stop laughing. She was pointing at his cheek.
Zim touched his left cheek and cringed at the pain he felt: he'd completely forgotten about the cut the old Ojod had given him.
"It's nothing. It will heal in less than a day" he reassured her.
The Driver-human lovingly smiled at him.
"My brave soldier, risking his life for me"
"Eh… 'your'?" Zim's cheeks flared up, his guts inexplicably feeling all pleasantly light and warm.
She leaned in, and kissed him on his hurt cheek.
"Thank you for not leaving me behind" she thanked him.
"A-ah, er, n-no, no problem, really! It wasn't anything much for me!" he replied all giddily.
Finally, the human found the strength and the balance to get up on her feet.
"What do you think that light is?" she asked him. The light shimmered in her eyes, but he was actively trying not to look at it directly.
"I don't know. It looks horrible"
"It's kind of pretty, actually, I think…" she murmured.
"Don't be creepy, human" he berated her. "Maybe it's better if we destroy it"
"I think it's best if we don't touch it. Remember what it did to poor old Maggy?" she said, and he had to agree with her on that one.
The human put the gun back in its holster; then, she smiled down at him.
"Come on, Zim. I want to rob the house, then set it on fire"
"Oh, sweet!" Zim exclaimed excitedly.
They climbed down the stairs, stumbling against each other and giggling in the darkness.
Outside, the wind whistled gently: the storm had finally calmed down.