"Wow..."
Disrepair is a word very well used to described what Aofil's seeing, and that's just what they can spot from inside the forest leading up to the village from Mt Ebott. It's not far now, just a couple more minutes of walking left. Aofil takes out another biscuit out of the package to eat.
As they emerge from the tree line they finally get a good view of the actual state their summer home community is in. The half eaten biscuit falls out of their mouth hanging open in stunned disbelief.
"Wow!"
Derelict is a better words to describe the state their old summer home community is in. Despite the shadow of Mt Ebott laying thick like a horizontal drape, Aofil can still make out every detail of the houses that have stood abandoned for God knows how long. Well, Aofil knows for how long. A good estimate, at least. That it's fallen this much into rot and dishevel seems a bit odd though. Like, a couple of decades more of decay is at display before them. How is that even possible? It's almost more overgrown than the forest they just exited, and that has stood for forever. Almost.
Twisted vines climb desperately up the walls of the worn houses, as if to get away from the muddled ground drained of both color and life. It's not gravel covering the ground. Rather, it looks like wilted...everything. Grass, flowers, even the rocks to a degree. Like every ounce of life has been sapped away, or sucked into a vacuum, or something. Aofil's baffled by it all, they've never seen something like this before. To think that they once lived here…
Is it because of the gas pockets around the fault line? Aofil remembers their parents talking about it before, but surely that can't be the case.
Or perhaps?
Aofil carefully smells the air. It doesn't smell dangerous. It smells bad, but that could be them after this trek they've done, or the wilt from the houses, or whatever. It doesn't smell like gas though, which is very important. Should be safe enough to be here. The first sign of something feeling wrong Aofil's gonna get out of here though. There's gas a plenty that can kill, yet doesn't smell. If it were gas here it would've leaked into the forest, yet Aofil can't see any animal corpses lying around. Very strange.
Strange is kinda the word to describe these last few weeks though. Strange bordering on absurd. Majority being absurd, around ninety percent or so, with just a small bit resting on strange. Depending on what Aofil finds here, it might very well tip the scales. It could be equivalent of smashing the scale with a hammer, or it could just not be anything. Either way is uncomfortable to think about for Aofil.
Horrible if they find anything about Chara, horrible if they don't. One means that they will find what they're looking for. If they really want to find it is another question altogether. A question which Aofil's already has the answer for.
No. A big no. Biggest they can muster.
It might even be worse if they don't find anything. Then they have to search further, outside of their own reach. Involving other people can bode nothing but bad since Aofil will be asking about their dead twin that they have no idea about. The pastor knows more, but he hasn't been answering Aofil calls this week. Nor has he showed himself at his church. Just a sign hung on the large front door.
'Out on business.'
Sure he is… Sure he is…
The smell is getting a bit more bite to it as Aofil approaches the houses. It smells off. As in, not right. Not something you want to wake up to. They still can't really place their finger on it. It's not a strong smell though, and even the briskest of tailwinds pushes it away. Aofil should still be careful. The last thing they want to do is collapse at an abandoned village where no one has been for ages. No one knows that Aofil's even here, and they're not gonna come rushing to save them if anything happens. It's gonna be a long while before anyone even notices that Aofil's gone.
Aofil puts their hand on a nearby tree for support. They take a steadying breath as they're hit with a gust of wind on their back. No smell, just clean mountain air. Fresh, reinvigorating. Aofil can do this.
They exhale, and push away from the tree.
Just a few steps later they start to feel something creep up on them. Or someone... They turn around, but they're alone. Not an animal in sight even, much less a human.
Or a monster.
…
What? Why would there be a monster here? They're all in their Underground. When would one get here too? Aofil saw half a crowd of journalists waiting eagerly on the plateau as they diverged from their secret path up Mt Ebott. No way in hell that a monster could slip by without being chased by a screaming myriad of journalists. Aofil would've heard them if that was the case, but all they can hear now is the wind moving through the forest. Not as loud as it would through the aspen at the graveyard, but still enough for Aofil to notice that it's there.
No monsters can be here, no.
The fact leaves Aofil a bit… disappointed?
Why?
They didn't dedicate any thought about the monsters earlier today when they decided to travel here, nor any on the way here, so why now that they are here? Why are Aofil thinking about the monsters now that they've arrived here? So weird.
And speaking of weird.
Aofil stops a few meters from the house closest to them. The vine creeping up it is almost yellow in color, as if it's struggling to even survive. It's slithering up the walls like a drunk snake. Weaving back and forth, up and down, side to side, and in some places it even goes back, only to grow over itself as it returns to growing up. In some places it even ends abruptly, only to sprout out from a ways back in on itself. The edges of where it stopped are black and shriveled. Aofil's seen pieces of coal with more luster than the vine's endings.
What really catches Aofil's eyes though, and what stopped them in their tracks, is how the vine grows around the corner of the house.
Aofil runs their finger across it from top to bottom, but they don't feel any bumps going from the wood of the house to the stem of the vine. It's smooth.
The vine has filled some tears on the corner. The shape of them look familiar, but Aofil's not sure-
No…
Aofil takes a step back.
How?
Three long and thick scars run diagonally across, and around, the corner. Three, what looks to be, deep rends. The vine, with its color and fabric so different to the wooden walls, look like scars.
The same scars as the pastor's.
Aofil looks back towards their city, towards the church. Was it the same monster? Was it the same time? Why here though? Why at Aofil's summer home?
And how could the pastor even let himself get hurt like that?
Yeah.
…
Wait. No? Yes?
Did the pastor battle with the monsters? What is Aofil thinking? Like, actual fighting? Fist versus claw fighting?
Again, how could he have lost against a monster?
He must've killed it. Or maybe the monster ran away? Why didn't the pastor chase the kill though?
Aofil puts the flat of their hand up against their forehead. What the hell is going on in there? What's all this about monsters all of a sudden? Worryingly so.
Is it the gas?
Aofil should get out of here. This was a bad decision. They need to leave before it's too late.
It's not gas though.
Why not?
Because it's because of the monsters. It's because of the monsters that Aofil's feeling this way. Not gas, monsters.
Aofil removes their hand from their head.
It's not gas that's doing this to them.
It's something caused by the monsters. It's not gas, it's magic. If it was gas then…
It's not gas. Aofil repeats it to themselves. It's not the gas, it is magic. It's from the monsters. They've done some horrid stuff to Aofil, to the pastor, to the humans.
Aofil's not even tired. Quite the opposite, in fact. They feel fresh, like they didn't just walk for a couple of hours across mountain terrain. Gas would've made them feel worse, not better. It's good that they came here, it's good that they're searching. They will find something about their twin here. They know it. They feel it deep inside them that Chara's been here. Everything's gonna be good. They'll search their house and find all the answers about Chara.
Monsters too. Aofil needs to find out. They need to know everything. Aofil needs answers.
They deserve answers!
If what the pastor said about the monsters intentions are correct, then Aofil must be prepared. Chara's the key to this. Aofil can put two and two together. It will all add up.
They tug at their backpack, rearranging it to comfortably rest on Aofil's now rolled back shoulders. They feel so confident about this. How could it be wrong? Every part of them wants to find out. They just have to find it.
And what better place to start, where no other place is like?
Home.
The plaque next to the door is rusty, with some struggling green covering it. Aofil brushes the filth away as best as they can. It's still rusty, but now it's readable. Barely readable. Enough to make out the majority of the letter of Aofil's last name though. They read it out loud to themselves.
Yup, sounds just the same as it's always been. How would it sound with Chara name? Aofil wonders. They tap the plaque with two of their fingers.
"Chara-"
The plaque falls off the wall as the screws holding it in place has degraded to the point that even Aofil's nonchalant tap loosened them from the wall.
Well that completely ruined the mood.
The holes left behind are not a pretty sight to see. Aofil's can't determine if the murk left behind in the plank is from the screws, or if it is the plank rotting from the inside.
With a quick tug on the side of the plank, Aofil confirms their suspicion. Without even putting in that much of an effort, the plank loosens from the wall. It squeaks loudly as it's unmounted. Aofil gives it a slight push outwards, causing it to pivot towards the ground. As the corner closest to Aofil hits the ground the other end is shaken loose from the wall, and also falls down onto the grumpy grass with a dampened thud. The plank lands backside up, exposing rusty and crooked nails.
"Alright then."
Aofil flips it over with their foot so that the nails point down into the dirt instead of in the air where they could potentially lodge themselves into Aofil's foot. They'd rather not, if they could afford the luxury not to.
They also pick up the plaque from the ground, and place it inside the long exposed hole. They lodge the top of it underneath the plank above the hole. Should sit still there for the time being.
Now, what about inside?
Aofil tucks in their right arm underneath the shoulder strap of their backpack, and fling it around their left shoulder. They open the biggest section, and put their hand down to retrieve their key.
They regret that decision less than a second after.
"The hell!" Aofil shouts as they jerk their hand back from inside the backpack. They look down into the backpack with a disgusted look twisting the entirety of their face. Once again they put their hand inside, but this time extremely carefully.
They retrieve the biscuit packet, which has gone soft and crummy. The remaining food inside it is everything but edible.
What?
Aofil had one just a couple of minutes ago, and that one was fine. What the hell happened to the rest of them?
Magic.
Magic?
Magic.
Damn monsters, spoiling Aofil's food. If they were responsible for this, then surely they must be responsible for all the decay around them as well. If Aofil can prove that in the upcoming trial it could mean a hefty lawsuit to follow.
The monster will pay, literally as well.
Aofil discards the biscuit package in a nearby plastic bowl. They'll check on it once they're done inside, see if's gone worse.
Their water seems to be fine though, although it tastes a bit less. How in the world water could taste less than water is a bit of a mystery.
Unless it's magic.
Which it is.
Not gas, magic. Didn't Aofil just accept that already?
With a couple of violent shakes, Aofil manages to clean the key as much as possible. Enough for them to hold it normally, and they insert it into the lock.
Halfway through turning the lock open the key is stuck. Aofil tries to turn it back, but it's almost as if it's fused solid. They tug and angle it every way imaginable, but to no avail. The lock and key are one now, together as one. What was used to unlock has now be used to further lock.
Aofil wonders if the situation they're in is ironic or not.
They decide to go with the third option instead, and just make the question obsolete.
They step one foot back, and lunge it against the door. The impact forces the lock through the murky wood it was attached to in the wall, and the door swings open violently. Crashing against the inner wall, and swirling up an incredible amount of dust in the process.
Aofil stands still, staring into the dust ridden hallway.
Why did they decide to kick the door?
To get inside, obviously.
Yes, but why did they decide that so rapidly? Almost as if the key getting stuck was just an excuse for them to force it in like this?
What does it matter, really? They're allowed inside now, and wasn't that the point?
Aofil shrugs, guess it was. They can't deny that it felt really good kicking the door in. Very good, in fact. They should do it more often.
Their shirt will have to suffice as a filter against the dust, and Aofil steps carefully in with the fabric tugged up over their nose and mouth.
Where to begin looking?
Aofil hazards a guess towards the master bedroom.
The door needs a good forceful shoulder before it opens, and another wave of dust crashes over itself as it's flung open. Aofil stumbles inside, almost falling over from putting a bit too much force into their tackle. They quickly regain their balance, and begin their search.
A few minutes of opening nothing but empty wardrobes and nightstands lowers Aofil's excitement a bit, but as they fumble on the top layer of the wall mounted shelf, their hand finds something.
A photograph. Covered in dust like everything else.
It's a picture of Aofil's family.
All four of them.
Two adults.
Two children.
Two twins.
One is Aofil.
The other…
Aofil rubs the dust off the glass with the end of their shirt to get a better look.
Chara looked exactly like them.
Same hair color and style, same fair skin, same blossoming cheeks.
Aofil brushes one of their own. That's weird, it's hot. Their cheek is hot. Warmer than the rest of their face by a good margin. Not burning hot, but hot nonetheless.
Is it the dust around them? Are they allergic? Maybe that's why their parents left? No, that doesn't make sense. They would've sold the house then, not just abandon it. No, it has to have been the magic, and the monsters.
Aofil returns their eyes to the photograph. They almost forgot about it completely. Their head is so full of magic and monsters, it seems so insignificant that they found this picture. It's not though, Aofil knows it. They don't feel it though. Why is that? This should've jogged their memories, if they had any of Chara.
Did they come all the way out here for nothing?
No! There has to be something else!
Aofil chucks the photograph onto the hastily covered bed. It lands in a lake of dust, and creates a small splash before settling down after a few bounces. Aofil again searches through whatever they can find. They even drag up a nearby chair to see if there's anything more on the top shelf.
Nothing. Just dust.
Room after room. Dust after dust. Cupboards fly open, wardrobes are ripped open in an ever increasing anger. Empty, empty, empty. Everything's empty!
Why? It was supposed to be here! Why isn't it here?
The mental anguish they've suffered this week was supposed to end here!
If there's nothing in this god forsaken house of theirs, then there must be something else in one of the other houses. Aofil's gonna go through each and everyone of them to the last crevice!
With heavy steps they storm out of their summer home, with eyes fixed on the one next to theirs. Just across that wilted patch of flowers.
They can't believe this.
The ground underneath Aofil's feet turn soft as they approach the wilted patch.
They've done all they were supposed to, but still they're here, empty handed.
The soft ground gives way to gravel like mud.
Chara was supposed to be here! If not that, then at least something about the monsters!
The gravely mud sinks deep underneath Aofil's feet. They don't care though. Their entire being is screaming for answers. They're driven forward by a feeling that's swelling up inside them. It's warm, and it's spreading all around inside them. Aofil feels strong. They're gonna get to the bottom of this!
They are filled with determination!
Aofil stops as they reach the center of the patch. The flowers below them are bent. Bent into a shape, a form of a child. A human child. Aofil dries the dust away from their cheek. It is scolding hot, but it's not to Aofil's concern.
Because it's all fallen into place now.
The silhouette at their feet must've been Chara's. Killed by a monster attack. An attack that caused the abandonment of the houses around Aofil.
Aofil's finally found Chara, and to that, they can only say one thing.
"Pathetic."
How could Chara die to a monster? They must've been weak to have fallen to a monster. It's good that Aofil never found out until now. Probably couldn't have lived with the shame knowing that their twin, which was their mirror copy, died to a monster.
No wonder Aofil's parents didn't want Aofil to find out.
A chuckle escapes Aofil. A loud chuckle, that almost immediately turns into a bellowing roar. All of this searching, all of this worry, and they're left with an answer so absurd that it's gonna not only tip the scale of the word of the week, but flip the entire table as well.
Aofil scoffs one last time. A monster. What a joke.
"C-Chara?"
Aofil turns around. At the end of the flower patch is a flower. The surprise of seeing one combined with the surprise of being surprised of seeing a flower in a flower patch doesn't have time to hit Aofil, as the yellow Flower produces a face.
"C-Chara?" it speaks.
A monster?
"I-It's me C-Chara. Y-your best f-friend."
Aofil feels their cheeks tug at their lips.
Good.