I'm glad you guys liked the chase! Seriously, every single review I've gotten for this has been helpful and inspiring, so I just wanted to thank you all SO MUCH from the bottom of my medium-sized American heart (Any the National fans out there? No? Okay, moving on). It's good reviews that keeps sites like this going. This chapter isn't near so action-packed as the last, unfortunately, but it's also shorter, so maybe that'll make up for it.
Also, Gaz has a filthy mouth. Must have learned that from me.
Chapter 4: The House
Dib's body was somewhere around 75% water. He felt every drop of it wavering gently, like a wind-stroked sea, within him as he leaned against the inside of the door. His breathing came in painful, pounding gasps and the living room shuddered with colors he knew weren't there. Dib shut his eyes against the movement and crouched near the floor, feeling every tiny pain in his joints amplified a million times as the adrenaline leaked out of his bloodstream.
You're safe. You're safe. It's okay. It can't get in the house. Probably.
Each thought was punctuated by a deep and heaving breath. He might have laid there all night, exhaustion drugging him into false security, had his sister not been playing video games on the couch a few feet away.
"Go left, asshat. MY left. And don't touch that rocket launcher!"
It took Dib a heart-pounding few seconds to realize that Gaz was speaking into her gaming headset and not screaming at him. He snapped his eyes open and stared at his sister's controlled flailing. She didn't seem to have even noticed he'd come home.
"Wait. I'm reloading. Wait wait wait. Hold up hol- YOU FUCKING CAMPERS!" and in a dramatic display that rattled the room Gaz lifted her controller above her head and hurtled it toward the ground as the T.V. erupted in a show of red mist. Snarling, shoving half-curled violet hair out of her eyes, Gaz finally turned and looked disapprovingly down at her brother.
"What's wrong with you?" she demanded, likely more out of curiosity than concern. Dib took his sister's consistent abrasiveness as a comfort rather than a flaw anymore. Gaz was as patiently unchanging as the earth itself, and in a world of SATs and college applications and an elusive father her coarse stability had become somewhat of a sticking place for his sanity.
He slowly pulled himself up to his full height, bracing heavily against the door, and still felt intimidated by Gaz's glare.
"Gaz, I think I might've been-" he began, holding his palms out pleadingly. Gaz recoiled in disgust.
"You're bleeding on the floor, Dibshit."
What had felt like a bump before became an aching sear as Dib stared down at his hands for the first time since he'd come in. Rivulets of blood were pooling in the folds of his hands where he'd skinned them. His fingers quivered without his beckoning and threw crimson between the crooks of his knuckles and onto the already stained carpet below.
"Come on, lemme look at that before you bleed to death in the foyer." Gaz said, grabbing him roughly by the front of his shirt.
"But I have to-"
"In a damn minute." She snapped.
Dib stepped toward her and felt his coat pull against his tired muscles. The high-collared jacket that had been such a boon before suddenly felt like a straitjacket, vacuum sealing heat and moisture against his burning skin. He tore it off, clawing at the fabric like an animal in a trap, heaving his messenger bag aside along with it. The sleeves scraped his mangled palms agonizingly and he yelped aloud. Gaz made no effort to hide a smirk as she walked into the kitchen with him trailing miserably behind her.
He threw himself onto one of the kitchen chairs. As he watched Gaz shuffling through the cabinets, assembling peroxide and paper towels and medical strips, he was glad that the hotness in his cheeks hid his embarrassment.
"Something chased me," he blurted out. Gaz scarcely flicked her eyes at him as he spoke. "I think it was tall, with extra legs like a spider and its face was hard to see. I even got a picture of it, but it tripped me and I broke the phone. I'm not sure if it's still outside or not..."
"You broke another phone?" Gaz asked. She pulled a chair up next to him at the kitchen table and took one of his long-fingered hands in hers. The peroxide stung fiercely and Dib bit back a cry, determined not to give his sister anymore amusement or make himself seem any less competent.
"This is bigger than phones, Gaz. This is about me being hunted down by a monster the same day I get my first solo investigation case. Doesn't that seem a little weird to you?" His voice had become fast-paced and breathy.
Looking up at him, Gaz sighed impatiently. She jerked at his wrist more than necessary while wrapping up the ground-up skin on his palms.
"Did you take your medication today?" she asked evenly.
Dib sat stunned for a moment, before letting a little hiss of frustration escape between his teeth. "I haven't been on anything for three years, Gaz. Not even to help me sleep."
"You ought to be on something. No one sane bites their fingernails as bad as you do." She snapped, looking up at him deliberately with her thin-eyed glare that had been the same since they were children. "You remember why dad let you take that job, Dib? Wasn't it so that you didn't have to bother us with all of this supernatural bullshit? I know you got lucky with Zim, but you can't keep bringing this crap home."
"I think I should be able to bring it home if- Eeagh! Be careful!"
Dib squeaked in protest, half in pain as she mopped blood from his other hand and half as he stopped a sentence mid-thought. It was pointless to debate with her. Pointless to insist that the chase had been real, especially without any evidence. Even now, in the quiet awkwardness of their kitchen, he was beginning to doubt himself. The excitement and hormones had faded away, leaving a strange sick emptiness. How many good looks had he gotten at the thing?
Besides, she had mentioned Zim. The Irken's name had nearly become a code that he'd missed the memo on. It meant "Dib, we're glad you saved the world, but shut the hell up already." Gaz wouldn't say so much. She could have destroyed him with the right combination of rhetoric and cruelty (Dib had seen her do so much to the few other students who had the gall to harass her) but continuously did not.
She had stopped short. Given him a warning. He took it with all the cowed uneasiness of a bad dog being fed.
"I'm sorry. It's just that this new case...it's made me a little nervous, I guess. Kids disappearing, tall pointy monsters. I can't decide if it's more interesting or terrifying. The whole thing just reminds me of-" He watched her raise an eyebrow, daring him to annoy her "-of something bad. I'm starting to wonder if I might be in over my head here."
Dib ran one bandaged hand through his hair, watching the floor as Gaz repaired his other.
After an agonizing few seconds, his sister thought of something to say. "You probably are, moron. But if the case is really as bad you say, you should just man up and solve it. Then it'll stop bothering you and you can stop bothering me about it."
"Well said." Dib paused, kicking this advice around in his head. Gaz was still holding one of his hands and he felt some sudden desperate urge to keep her near him. "I didn't see you at lunch today" he said, trying to change the subject.
"I was in the corner with the guys. Carl got Arson-Murder-Jaywalk 5 for his Game Slave and I wanted to see what the graphics were like. They're shit, by the way." She rubbed her nose compulsively with her free hand. "What difference is it to you? Don't you sit with those geeks near the window?"
"They're not geeks, they're nerds." He corrected her. "And you could come sit with us sometime. If you wanted. I have a bad feeling about that Carl kid."
"Oh, what, like you think he's a pervert or something?"
"No, I think he might be one of the bear/pig/human hybrids I've been reading about. They infiltrate human skools and eat only people who have AB blood. You can tell by their pupils - they're iridescent like a cat's."
He expected Gaz to bitch at him for bringing up the paranormal again. Snorting, rolling her eyes, and squeezing his hand painfully, she got up from the table.
"You're so full of B.S., Dib. I dunno why you're not trying to be a lawyer." Gaz jerked her head toward the living room. "I got another match at 7:00. Team needs a sniper. There's a casserole in the fridge."
"Thanks. I'm not really hungry right now, though - I think I'll just head upstairs and look at my case." Dib stood up gingerly, his back and legs beginning the three-day-long ache from overextending himself a half-hour earlier.
"You better eat that damn casserole, Dib. I made it myself and it tastes like shit. If I have to eat it, so do you." Gaz called, already taking up her post on the sofa.
Gathering up his jacket and messenger bag from where he'd dropped them in the foyer, Dib wandered up to the sanctity of his room. He left the door open, propping it with a shoe so it wouldn't swing shut and so he could hear Gaz downstairs playing video games. It wasn't until he'd settled down in his desk chair that exhaustion jittered over him like a swarm. He wanted to sleep right then, in his sweat-stiff shirt and five-pounds boots, waking up six hours later with a cricked neck.
C'mon, Dib. Get it together. Just finish this one thing, then you can sleep.
With an unnatural amount of effort Dib yanked his messenger bag over to his side. He slid out the case file and removed the Slenderman photograph. For a second or two he stood suspended, nearly daring himself to turn it over. To compare the apparition with what he swore he'd seen chasing him. In the end the fear was too recent and he kept the picture turned away from him, sliding the thing into his scanner without ever seeing a sliver of color.
Dib shuffled a box of tissues and a stolen bottle of Gaz's lotion off of his desk as he waited for the computer to warm up. His eyes wandered aimlessly around his workspace while the startup sequence initiated, finally landing on the framed medal hung on the wall. It was blue and star-shaped and about the size of his fist. Underneath was a tiny plaque reading:
In Congratulations to Dib Membrane, for His Effort in Revealing the Reality of Extraterrestrial Life.
That had been his reward for so many years of work - a medal and three front-row tickets to a vivisection.
Dib grimaced bitterly at the sight of the thing, turning back to his computer. Within a few seconds he'd connected his webcam and gotten another of the Swollen Eyeballs on the line with him.
"Agent Tunaghost, would you mind taking a look at this photo for me? I think that this...monster has been sighted near my home. I'd like to know if you've heard of any other cases involving something similar." Dib always felt a little intimidated speaking to these much more experienced researchers, but he'd used up all his fear for the day.
The dark shadow of Agent Tunaghost twitched an eyebrow as the photograph reached the other end of the connection. "I feel like I've seen something like this before. Tall, spider-like, elusive. Seen often near forests and related to the disappearances of children, if I'm not mistaken."
Dib sat up a little straighter in his chair.
"Where did you read that? When? Could you send the data to me?" He asked, trying hard to keep the demanding tone out of his voice. More sightings and more cases meant more sources for evidence. Better chances of solving a mystery and securing another victory for the paranormal sciences.
"It was just a few weeks ago, Agent Mothman. I believe that another investigator in the next county over received a case very similar to your own. In this instance it was an eight-year-old girl gone missing. I'm sending the files over right now."
Dib's printer whirred to life like a little robot and began spitting out page after page of text-thick case files. He stared in disbelief at his good fortune spewing out of the mechanical mouth.
"Tuna, this is incredible." She giggled coyly at him. "Overlapping cases so close together? I can't believe I get to solve this! Look at this, it says that most of the sightings were during the day! I have to remember to take my night-vision goggles along, though. A connection to fire? That's messed up, especially if the thing spends all its time in forests. Thanks a ton, agent. I promise, when I solve this case, I'll put your name on the report."
The pages finally stopped printing and he assembled all of them in his lap, reading the first few lines of each and then abandoning it for another. A veritable library of details (for such a small, new discovery, anyway), and Dib found himself so captivated that he nearly forgot Agent Tunaghost was on the line.
"Hehe, that won't be necessary. An investigator's first case should be his and his alone. And one more thing, Agent Mothman. Before you sign off."
"Yeah?" he asked, still shuffling through the papers.
"Be careful. The agent who took the last Slenderman case hasn't been heard from in eighteen days."
Dun dun duuuuuun. I'm sure this isn't going to come up again! In other news, the next two chapters are going to need a butt-ton of revising. Here, "revising" is a word which means "likely a total overhaul." So I'm sorry if the next update is a bit slow in coming. We're at that sort of awkward place in the story where lots of groundwork is being laid but not a lot is being done with it. Sort of the late-first-act or early-second-act lull. If you can stand to be patient with me, I promise that everything has a purpose.
Otherwise, if this chapter seemed sort of cute or filled you with an uncontrollable rage, drop me a line in the reviews! Until next time, darlings.