Hey everyone. I've been suffering some pretty bad writer's block lately. I'm going to be trying a few exercises to try and break through it. Thanks for the patience and know that nothing is abandoned.

Warnings: Brief disturbing imagery and potentially upsetting content.

No one would believe him. No matter what Alfred did or said, neither his dad nor brother would believe that someone had been tapping on the wall. The morning after the incident Alfred had gathered his courage to check out his brother's room, tentatively pushing the door open. There was no one inside, the bed neat and showing no signs of disturbance. A quick glance in the closet and under Mattie's bed had revealed no proof either. Still, that didn't mean that someone hadn't crept into his brother's room then slipped out sometime in the morning.

After telling Arthur about it, the man had scoffed with nothing short of disbelief and irritation. "That again? What is it with you and this joke? I really don't find it amusing in the least. Your brother was out. No one was in his room. Stop inventing stories and put more energy into your schoolwork."

When Matthew showed up later that day, Alfred immediately grabbed him and told him what had happened. His twin regarded him with thinly veiled skepticism. When Alfred tried to insist upon it, Matthew finally told him that he had probably been dreaming.

Put out that his family refused to believe him, even though they should have put their faith in him more than anyone, Alfred had confided in his best friend Kiku. That was a mistake in of itself. Kiku was a very pragmatic person and came up with a variety of practical things it could have been. When those didn't satisfy Alfred, the other boy then went to what most would consider the most unlikely cause.

"If what you say is true, then perhaps it was some sort of spirit."

Alfred's heart seemed to miss a beat and he squirmed on his bed, hugging his pillow tighter. He clenched the phone in his hand a little tighter. "Wait, by spirit do you mean... Do you mean a ghost? Oh my god, Kiku, do you think a ghost is trying to kill me? Oh no, what should I do? I can't handle ghosts, man!"

Kiku sighed on his end. "I am not necessarily saying that it is a ghost. If you are sure it happened, a paranormal occurrence could explain it."

Alfred moaned miserably, letting his head hit against the wall miserably. "I hadn't even really thought about that! I was thinking some sort of crazy guy, but not a ghost! I think I'd prefer the crazy guy!"

"Do not be so ridiculous, Alfred. It would be far more sensible for you to want it to be a spirit. The likelihood that it could cause you harm would be far less that way."

"But Kiku," Alfred whimpered. "Ghosts are really scary!"

An incredulous note crept into Kiku's voice. "How is it that someone who wants to learn how to sky dive is so afraid of brushing with the afterlife?"

"But that's different. Dying and ghosts are not the same thing at all." Duh.

"Of course not. I have homework, Alfred. Tell me if you experience any more strange occurrences. Until then tell yourself that it was a singular abnormality in the fabric of reality."

"Uh... okay?" Whatever that meant. Wait, did that mean Kiku was ditching him? "Kiku-"

"Goodbye, Alfred." Kiku hung up.

Alfred snorted and threw his phone aside. Reaching up, he began to tug restlessly at his twisted necklaces. This really sucked. No one believed him. And now it might be a ghost. Just great.

~.

No matter what everyone said to reassure him, Alfred developed a paranoia of the tapping. Every night he expected it to start again. Matthew had thought about exploiting this, but when Alfred talked about it and got so upset he didn't have the heart to go through with it. Even if his brother deserved it.

Another strange thing that began shortly after the tapping incident was that Charles started to refuse to sleep on the bed. Alfred called him a traitor and lamented the fact that even man's best friend had betrayed him.

Unlike the others, though, Charles tried to comfort him. Even though he wouldn't sleep on the bed anymore, Charles would sleep under it. When Alfred found himself getting too apprehensive, he'd let his hand drop off of the bed and Charles would lick it without fail. Knowing at least his dog was there for him as moral support always made Alfred feel better and soon it became an essential part of getting to sleep.

One night there was a heavy rainstorm. Icy drops of water blew against Alfred's window, recreating a constant tapping pattern that had Alfred shivering. He tossed and turned, puling his blanket up high over his head. It was bad enough the storm was making it impossible to sleep. It also made the air heavy with chilly condensation.

Letting out a frustrated grunt, Alfred stuck his arm out. The difference in temperature made him shiver violently. Trying to ignore it, he let his hand hang down. There was a short pause and then he felt Charles' warm tongue on his fingers. Alfred smiled slightly, instantly calmer. He tucked his arm back into the blankets and managed to doze off for a while.

A choking sensation drew him back out of sleep. Alfred coughed and reached up. One of the pendents on the chains was digging into his neck. A grimace flashed sleepily across Alfred's face as he reached up to pull it away. A dull prickle of discomfort lingered where it had left a crescent mark in his skin.

There was no longer the heavy tapping against his window. All that remained was a mild dripping. It seemed the storm outside had calmed to something far more mild. Still, there was something more eerie about the slow, steady dripping. It was a wet, sharp sound that rang in his ears.

Perturbed, Alfred reached his hand out of the covers. The air was colder than before and goosebumps rippled up his arm. The pause was longer than usual but finally the reassuring heat of Charles' tongue licked against his hand, lapping at the crevice between his pointer and middle finger.

Satisfied, Alfred pulled his arm back under the covers, shivering lightly. The reassurance he felt after that ritual was not as strong as usual and this time Alfred could not drop back to sleep. The steady drip from the rain continued. There was something about the noise specifically that felt off, but Alfred's sleep fogged mind couldn't think of what it was.

Whenever the apprehension grew too great, Alfred would once again put his hand out of the covers so Charles could lick him. Most of the restless night continued in this way. Eventually even the dripping had nearly ceased. It was now only a very rare splatter. A thought drug itself out from a dark corner of Alfred's mind.

Not the sound of rain on glass, but rather a raindrop hitting a larger body of water.

That was ridiculous, though. Unless he'd accidentally left the window open or had a leak? Alfred was too tired to get up and check. Instead he reached out and allowed Charles to lick his hand one more time. Charles licked his palm and Alfred murmured something that was perhaps meant to be a, "Good boy."

Alfred tucked his arm close to his body, finally feeling that he might be able to sleep. Another vague thought surfaced, his sleepy mind barely paying it any attention before he finally fell into a deeper sleep.

Something wrong with the tongue...?

~.

A sharp knock pierced through Alfred's dream, chasing it off so abruptly he felt disoriented.

"Alfred! You've slept long enough! Get up immediately!" His dad gave one more sharp knock and then Alfred could hear him walking off at his usual brisk pace.

Grumbling, Alfred stretched out. The grogginess from a night without sleep left him in a dazed state for a few minutes.

Finally he yawned and pushed back the covers, rubbing his eyes as he reached over to grab his glasses. He'd swung his legs over the edge of the bed when he froze, a stricken look crossing his face. The air seemed to leave his lungs all at once, as if he'd received a hard blow to the chest. When he opened his mouth the thinnest of screams came out.

Strung up and butchered nearly beyond recognition was Charles. Beneath him was a wide puddle of blood. Every hair on Alfred's body stood on end as he made the connection that the dripping he had heard most of last night hadn't been rain at all.

Alfred's body began to tremble violently, fingers digging into his bedding as a wave of nausea rolled over him. Half sure he must be in some sort of horrific nightmare, his eyes traveled from Charles' body to the wall. Alfred's already short breaths came in hysterical gasps as he read words painted with his dog's blood.

Humans can lick too

The full implication of the words hit Alfred and he began to scream in earnest.