7:00 PM
CREEKFIELD
From the single holding cell at the Creekfield police department, a ballad of off-key harmonica notes pushed the tolerance of any poor soul within hearing range to their furthermost limits.
Behind the steel bars sat the Soldier, playing the offending instrument in a melodramatically depressed state; jacket tied around his waist, boots untied and dog tags wrapped around his wrist.
Beside him sat Pyro, who sobbed silently, whether it be from the shame of imprisonment of the pain of sharing a cell with a man who was easily the worst harmonica player in existence.
It was as pathetic a scene as it was comical.
The ceiling fan went round and round as a door slammed shut from somewhere in the building. The sound of approaching footsteps and jingling keys drew Soldier out of his intense improvisation.
"Dinner time," the deputy, who had introduced himself as Thompson said, holding a single plastic tray with a crustless ham sandwich and a glass of water on it.
Solder set the harmonica down. "'Bout time."
"No funny business or I'm gonna have to set the canine unit on you again," Thompson said as he unlocked the cell door. Soldier grumbled and tried to hide his bandaged forearm.
"Where's Pyro's?" Soldier asked as the deputy handed him the tray. "Boy's probably starving to death by now. Hell, he might even try to eat me in my sleep!"
"Pyro?" Thomson looked at the suited firebug sitting on the other end of the hard bench. "Oh, him. I'm releasing him now."
"Really?!" "Rrrry?!" Soldier and Pyro both stood up in surprised unison, the former's lunch clattering onto the ground. Deputy Thompson sighed and smiled.
"Yes, really. We have enough evidence, but according to it, only one of you can be held accountable, and that's you, Mr. Doe."
"So basically I'm getting blamed for the actions of the two of us," Soldier fell back onto his seat, arms crossed.
"You said so yourself. You're friend here's ill in the head. They can't be held to the due process of a law they don't understand, it's just sad!"
"Are you underestimating my teammate?" Soldier asked.
"Do you want him.. er.. them to get charged too?"
Pyro shot Soldier a look.
"No, just let it go," Soldier grumbled and waved his hand. He then leaned into where Pyro's ear should be, "You better come to my trial and give me a hand, private."
Pyro sniffled and saluted him.
"Alright, little guy. Let's get you outta here," Deputy Thompson clapped a hand on Pyro's shoulder and led him out of the cell. Pyro cast Soldier a passing glance as they were led away.
The deputy's cordiality only extended as far as the wooden double doors, however. As soon as Pyro crossed the threshold, the doors pulled shut and the firebug was on their own.
7: 25 PM
PYROVISION
The evening was beginning to stretch over the blue sky, tinting it with cotton candy pink. Pyro tried to place the location of the sun, hoping to catch a glimpse of Pyroland in the powerful light of the star. No such luck; it had already sunk below the towering reaches of a cozy retirement village.
It was scary to be out in Creekfield alone, vulnerable to the strange plastic residents. Pyro was curious as to how Soldier was doing back at the cell. It would have been fun to spend the night together, though Soldier didn't seem to be the type to partake in slumber party shenanigans, but alas.
Were they going to tickle all of his deepest, darkest secrets out of him? The thought of tickle torture frightened Pyro. There was no more beastly a method of interrogation than tickling! Pyro hoped he would be allowed to visit Soldier and teach him all of Pyro's secret tactics for resisting the terrible tickles.
The sidewalk seemed to stretch on into infinity, the closed storefronts repeating themselves as Pyro absentmindedly walked by. It took her a while to realize she had been walking around the same block in a circle. The repetition was just so nice, almost like the comfortable routine of commuting to Pyroland to spread joy and laughter to its inhabitants. That's probably what all these doll people needed; joy, laughter and a little fire.
After the carousel of commodities ran its course, he crossed over to the next block. A tall, red building lined with individual doorsteps occupied most of the lot. Finding no entertainment in the drab pile of bricks, Pyro continued past the complex and cast a curious glance into the alley beside it. It was shady, sheltered from the sinking sun that painted the sidewalk a deep orange. The perfect place to rest his tiring legs.
Finches twittered overhead as Pyro sat somewhat comfortably against the wall. There was a faint smell of raw meat in the air that made her oddly hungry. Apparently she wasn't the only one that yearned for the source of the scent. Waiting in front of a back door was a Rottweiler with a wagging tail. There sure were a lot of dogs around here…
The dog whined as it waited for whoever was on the other side door. Pyro scowled; how annoying. After the dog's pathetic attempts to will open the door with high-pitched calls ended, the door opened. However, instead of bounding in like the big, dumb animal it was, the Rottweiler sat down, tail still thumping on the doorstep.
"What're you making such a fuss about, girl?" came a gruff voice. The question was followed by a large, bald head and a white apron displaying the name "Clyde" in red cursive letters. Behind the apron and below the bald head stood a great grizzly bear, shaved pink and frothing at the mouth with rabid kindness. Pyro's heart skipped several frightened beats.
"Oh!" the bear roared, "Hello there, fella. Didn't see you there…"
It took Pyro a while to realize that the fearsome creature was talking to him. With a shaky index finger, she pointed at herself.
"Me?" Pyro asked.
"Well, who else would I be talking to?" the bear-man was laughing now, really cracking the hell up and spewing foamy saliva all over. The bear's dog, which had now taken a distorted crouching form not unlike a toad's seemed to bark along with her master's mirth, a rubbery smile baring yellow fangs. "What're you doing back here? Wanna see what the back of my little ol' store looks like? I could even fix you a sandwich on the house!"
Pyro's head shook violently. No no no way.
"Aw, come on. It'll only take a few seconds, I promise! I'll even let ya pet Mary…" the werebear cooed, as if Pyro had any desire to pet his beastly toad-dog. As soon as Pyro got back to Pyroland, all puppies were to be banned from ever growing up into the hell hounds prowling this town like giant plague rats. "She doesn't bite, kiddo. What're you waiting for? Don't you wanna give her a hug? Come on, Pyro-"
"I DON'T KNOW YOU!" Pyro screamed and ran out of the alley. Every which way, doors were being closed. Portals to fireplaces and stoves and other possible shrines through which Pyroland's powers could be accessed were cut off right before Pyro's lensed eyes.
Barks and croaks and roars resounded from the alley while skittering paws indicated that Mary had given chase. Pyro ran.
The looping blocks and markets were no longer calming, and the more Pyro passed from ring of shops to ring of shops, the more stress pressed down on his shoulders.
Pyro miserably wished for a flamethrower. Hell, a lighter or matches or anything that could create flame and smoke and joy, but there were none to be found. Dollar stores with dollar lighters and bars with free matches were closed, closed, closed and she was trapped, trapped, trapped outside.
Mary bit at Pyro's heels with razor sharp teeth, goading her into running even faster and faster still when she was out of breath. They both knew that she was not Scout, and would be out of adrenaline soon.
Very soon.
Pyro saw the tree root five fateful seconds after his boot smashed under its bend and sent him swinging into the ground, hands out in front to break the fall.
Pyro landed in a position reminiscent of the pushups Soldier used to make her do. The nostalgic yet painful pose didn't last long as Mary leaped onto her back, slamming her face into the concrete. Mary barked and gnashed her teeth in triumph as Pyro struggled underneath her beastly weight.
"Help!" Pyro called. Someone, anyone who could hear (and understand) his cries. Please just kill this bitch!
A bang finally answered his prayers.
Dead weight collapsed on Pyro's back. She was quick to roll over and shove the dog off.
Sparing a backward glance at the smoking hole in the dead center of Mary's skull, Pyro wondered if it was Sniper who had come to his rescue.
But it was not. It couldn't be since Spy and Sniper didn't share weapons like Engie and Heavy and Soldier did with their shotguns. Pyro almost smacked himself on the head.
It was none other than Spy, with his relieving cigarette stuck in his mouth and smoking gun in his hand. Bless his soul.
"Get up," he said. Pyro happily complied and joined him at his side. After holstering his pistol Spy suddenly swayed and lost balance. Pyro caught him by the arm and pulled him back to his feet.
"Are you okay?" she asked. Spy didn't understand her at first, but once he did, he shook his head. There was a splotch of drying blood just behind his temple.
"Non. We've been compromised," he winced. It wasn't just his head that was wounded; a gash tore through his clothing, exposing the pale, bleeding flesh of his side. Pyro gulped.
"Get Medic?" Pyro suggested. Spy shook his head again and began to walk. Pyro kept up with him out of fear he might fall over again.
"He went to find Heavy. I doubt he'll be of any use to us."
"Hospital?" Pyro tried again. He personally didn't care for hospitals, but if they could help Spy, he could allow them to slide off the blacklist just this once.
"There isn't one," Spy said. He looked as if he might topple again and Pyro hurried to sling his arm over her broad shoulders.
"Sorry," Pyro said, head hanging. Spy was visibly upset, his brows furrowed so tightly that ugly wrinkles lined his forehead.
"Where is Solder?" he asked after some time.
"Still in jail."
"But they let you out?"
Pyro nodded.
"Interesting," Spy moved his cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. Pyro reveled in the wonderful smell of smoke. Aloof as he could be, Spy definitely had his upsides. "Perhaps they thought you weren't as much of a threat as he."
"Unh?" Pyro looked at Spy curiously.
"That dog wasn't the only thing that's hunting you here," Spy could be so dramatic sometimes, but in this case, his alertist observations were a terribly useful source of information, "It is no longer safe to stay with Engineer. I'm afraid he's had a hand in the disappearance of our Sniper."
"Sniper?" Pyro repeated, worried. If Sniper had been kidnapped, Medic was missing and Soldier was in jail, that meant Spy and he were the last ones left! He shivered.
"Things are not looking well, Pyro," Spy said, clutching at his side. "Into the alley, right there."
Pyro looked as Spy tried his best to lead the way. He could vaguely recognize it as one of the alleys he had run through in order to lose Mary. Maybe that was how Spy found him so quickly. The alley was squished between two office buildings, a mess of shiny black ladders and fire escapes clinging to each side.
"Pull that ladder down, will you?" Spy asked, pointing to a ladder on the left that was just out of his injured reach. Pyro leaned Spy against a dumpster where he impatiently waited as she caught the ends of the ladder and tugged it down with a loud clang.
"Trés bon, now help me up," Pyro hoisted Spy onto the ladder before climbing on as well. A few times left her worried that Spy would fall on top of her, but they eventually reached the first fire escape where they sat and rested.
"I think it's the mayor," Spy said as he took pained breaths. What Pyro didn't know was that Spy had gotten his injuries from jumping out Engineer's second-story window, exercising his luck to its absolute extent by surviving the fall at all.
"Mr. Campbell?" He asked. The old man that looked like Santa Claus? It kind of made sense… Perhaps he was old Kris Kringle's evil twin…?
"Oui. I don't know what he wants to achieve by all of this," Spy took one deep breath, "But it's become obvious that we've managed to make ourselves part of whatever sick game he's playing at."
"Playing House?" Pyro deducted fearfully. He didn't want to become a doll-person.
"An accurate enough assessment," Spy shrugged, "I was going to tell Madame Pauling, but apparently that is out of the question. We have a limited set of moves to make between the two of us."
Pyro listened to Spy silently as he dictated his plan. She wished she could be as smart as Spy, always coming up with ingenious plans in his head.
It was a two-part plan. 1. Infiltrate the mayor's house. 2. Get the hell out of dodge and come back with reinforcements. It was Pyro's job to supply the brute strength (Spy promised they would drop by Sniper's van for Pyro's arsenal, which made her excited enough to hug him) while Spy did the snooping. Simple enough, but doomed to be much harder in practice.
9:15 PM
Night fell over Creekfield slowly, then all at once with a sheet of silence. Of censorship of the mind. Crickets called from every nook and cranny while Spy and Pyro snuck through the darkest shadows and all but sprinted to Engineer's house. Like all the other houses, his lights were out. Asleep or absent, it didn't matter.
Spy hissed as the door to Sniper's camper creaked loudly, the sound bouncing off the driveway. His would stung, and he hurriedly gestured for Pyro to hop inside and root around in the darkness for a concealable weapon. He assured the other mercenary that if he tried to walk out with his flamethrower stuffed in his suit, his position would go from "firepower" to "bait".
While Pyro searched, Spy stayed outside and lit himself a cigarette. It was cold out and the icy starts hovered overhead, almost too close to be real.
As he exhaled smoke, the van behind him rocked as Pyro climbed out, the metal body of the vehicle bouncing atop the sturdy wheels.
"Hurr," Pyro grumbled as he handed Spy a handful of bullets for his gun. Spy accepted them but tossed them back into the recesses of the vehicle.
"Thank you, but I have enough," Spy said. Pyro shrugged and placed their flare gun in the holster hanging from their belt. They were ready to go.
It was a long walk from Engineer's house in the suburbs to the mayor's home in the dead center of the town. Every day, Creekfield seemed to grow bigger and bigger around them, threatening to crash down on their heads like a wave.
Through the moat of closed storefronts, the mayor's home grew against the sky, reaching for the dark blue clouds. Finally, they were standing in front of the heart of the town, its features as forbidding in the dark of the night as they were charming in the light of day. A chill wind poured in from the desert outskirts, carrying the spice of cooling sand and cactus flowers.
Mayor Campbell's house sprung from the earth, two stories tall and painted a soft violet that shone grey in the moonlight. Two windows beside the front door atop the latticed porch reflected the glow of the streetlights. The entire house was awash in surreal brightness.
"I'm surprised there isn't more security here," Spy said. He didn't expect an answer from Pyro, but Pyro shrugged anyways. He seemed on edge. Come to think of it, he had seemed on edge since they stepped foot into this town.
"Pyro," he said, snapping the firebug out of their reverie. "I'm going to need you to keep watch while I find an opening. Once I'm in, I'll let you in as well."
Pyro nodded and brandished their flare gun.
"Don't make too much of a scene," Spy warned and turned to start on the house. He could enter from any window he chose, but seemed it would be most advantageous to enter the study from the ground floor.
The window opened with minimal difficulty, which immediately placed Spy on guard. With a cautious grace, he placed one leg on the carpet, followed by the other. The study was absent of any surveillance whatsoever. The door to the rest of the house even stood wide open.
Spy set to the large oak shelves of binders and books. Suspiciously, many of them were blank, the others stuffed with beyond satisfactory reports from every local industry that could be named off the top of one's head. Everything was squeaky clean on the surface, but something dark and falsified lurked in the depths.
The depths…
Spy's eyes widened.
Of course! Spy slipped out f the study into the rest of the house. Outside of the window, Spy could see Pyro dutifully standing on the curb, keeping careful watch and rubbing the trigger of their flare gun with their thumb. Good.
Spy crossed the room in long strides and carefully unlocked the front door. The door opened without a sound. Spy caught Pyro's attention and gestured for him to come inside.
Unfortunately, Pyro was less stealthy than Spy despite his habit for ambushing enemies on the battlefield. The boards of the porch creaked under the firebug's weight.
"Shh!" Spy hissed, Pyro's had hung low, abashed. "Don't make any more noise; we cannot afford to mess up."
Pyro nodded and followed him back inside as he searched for the basement. Some portions of the house were well lit by the moon. Others were dark and near impossible to navigate without clinging to the walls. Spy felt his already stressed patience wear further when Pyro knocked down a hanging frame. Closer inspection with the aid of his lighter revealed it to be a photograph from an anniversary picnic. Creekfield's first ever. Spy could recognize a lot of the people, but somehow they all seemed different. Less… perfect.
There was Joanna, but she wasn't as beautiful as the woman whom Scout was to marry in just 1 day. She was still very lovely, but a minor imperfection stood out like a sore thumb. A wide, milky scar occupied most of her right cheek and extended into her hair where a patch of incredibly short hair struggled to keep up with the long, brown locks surrounding it. Spy also saw the officer that arrested Soldier and Pyro. He was a lot fatter and missing two fingers on his left hand. Finally, in the center of the picture was the mayor, who looked more like a mad scientist than the jolly old man who had greeted them. Stringy hair lay combed over his head in every which way, trying in vain to cover his bald spot while a scraggly beard hung limply against his chin. The only thing vaguely recognizable was his trademark suit and greyhound who sat obediently at his side.
Spy frowned and hung the photo back up.
"Be more careful," he chided as they began to walk again. He could hear a shuffle of fabric as Pyro nodded.
At last they came across two staircases. One led to the second floor of the house where the mayor presumably slept and the other led down below ground. A basement. The perfect place to bury the town's dirty little secrets.
"Stay here and keep watch. If someone arrives, fire a flare," Spy instructed. Pyro nodded and spun around, blocking any further entry to the lower staircase and keeping a hand poised on the flare gun's holster. Spy quietly eased down the stairs. The door to the basement was locked, but it was laughably easy to pick. The door swung open on well-oiled hinges, and Spy was in.
"Mon dieu," Spy whistled as he flicked on the lights. In stark contrast with the rest of the house's antiquated design, the basement was like something out of one of Pyro's junky science fiction TV shows. It was a bright white room bathed in long fluorescent lights and crowded with counters and a goliath of a computer. The computer's matching screen was sectioned into multiple smaller screens, each providing alternating views of something. Spy realized with mounting sickness that they were views of people's bedrooms and stores. No corner of Creekfield was left unseen. Every alley, every bathroom was visible to the mayor's paternal eyes, each screen cycling from sleeping couples to vigilant patrolmen.
"This is insane…" Spy said to himself as he saw Demoman sleeping on one of the screens, the eye that Pyro had ripped out replaced and good as new.
Spy left the screens and came across rows of examination tables, one of them concealing a human shape beneath a white cloth. Spy entertained the thought of discovering Frankenstein's monster under it. However, the reality was much, much worse.
With a single pull, the cloth fluttered to the ground and Spy couldn't help but gasp at the familiar body that lay naked on the stainless steel table.
It was Soldier.
His eyes were closed, relaxed as if asleep of unconscious. Spy figured it was the latter as he gazed at his teammate's torso. It was free of the scars the American had proudly displayed like medals of honor in the locker room after every battle. Spy also noticed that his muscles had shrunk somehow, leaving him with a much trimmer but no less powerful form. He seemed so alien… so much younger.
"What did they do to you?" Spy asked the unconscious man.
"We improved him," came a stern voice. Spy's head whipped around to see the mayor, fully dressed. Esther stood at his side, baring long, yellow teeth. Behind him were several patrolmen accompanied by their own dogs. One of the larger officers had Pyro's arms twisted uncomfortably behind their back and head bent in submission. "And we can improve you too if you'd just let us."
Spy backed against the table only to be caught by surprise by none other than Soldier himself, who now crouched on the table, very much awake and holding the saboteur's arms in an unrelenting grip. Still strong as ever, just with a Creekfield flair.
"But why?" Spy asked, unable to manage any other coherent questions as he felt Soldier's steady breaths down his back. He shivered.
"Why not? Mayor Campbell shrugged. "Isn't it every man's dream to live in a perfect society? To achieve a realistic utopia?"
"I can hardly call this a utopia," Spy scoffed, but was silenced when Soldier bent his arms at a painful angle.
"That's enough, Jane," Campbell held up a hand and Soldier slackened his hold, "He isn't going anywhere."
Spy shrugged Soldier's hands off of him, rubbing his forearms, "But why us? Why Engineer and Scout?"
"We needed a mechanic and Joanna needed a husband. It's your own fault you tried to take them back," the Mayor explained as if it was common knowledge, "But I do believe I have the perfect jobs for you two too, so don't worry."
"Go to hell," Spy bit. Campbell scowled. With a snap of his fingers, the officers and their mutts began to advance, their movements uniform as if they were a single creature.
Spy's hand was on his gun in a flash. He dodged one officer's grasp and shot when one of the dogs lunged at him. A spray of blood erupted from the hound's head, staining the uniform of the patrolman behind it. It didn't even phase the officer as he removed his baton from his belt and struck Spy across the face before the Frenchman could fire again.
Spy fell against the wall, dazed. Alarmed, Pyro fought against their captor's hold, succeeding in freeing themselves and slamming their fist into the policeman's face. The Mayor leaped out of Pyro's path as the firebug ran to aid their friend. Shoving two other officers away with momentum alone, Pyro braced one arm against the wall and offered the other to Spy.
As soon as Spy was back on his feet, Pyro took out their flare gun. Another mutt barked and charged, biting down on Pyro's leg with a single snap of jaws. Pyro screamed and tried to shake the dog off their calf but it only served to tighten the dog's hold.
Spy made to help but instead took a heavy blow to the gut by one of the officers Pyro had shoved. The other officer soon joined in, effectively occupying Spy. Pyro continued to scream as the dog shook at their calf with muffled snarls. It was near impossible to get a solid lock on the hound with the flare gun and a misfire could mean anything from further injuring their leg or aggravating the dog.
Panicked, Pyro looked for Spy only to watch the man crumble to his knees as he took simultaneous blows from his adversaries. A some point, he had dropped his gun.
So…
Was this how it was all going to end?
With renewed fervor, Pyro twisted around and began to smash the dog against the wall and kick at it with their other leg. There was a crack as ribs were broken and Pyro felt the strength of the teeth in their flesh falter and eventually withdraw. The dog whimpered as its punctured lungs filled up with blood, but Pyro felt no sympathy for it. With the same leg it had bitten, Pyro smashed the hound's throat with two precise stomps.
Setting the other hound's fur aflame with their flare gun, Pyro went to assist Spy.
"Behind you!" Spy yelled as he was caught in a headlock.
Pyro was too slow to react however, and suffered the consequences when a hand grabbed their collar and threw them to the floor.
Pyro winced as Soldier climbed on top of them and punched them. A spider web of cracks shattered Pyro's vision out of the gas mask's left lens into a kaleidoscope of Soldier's emotionless face. There was no way Pyro could best the man in hand to hand combat.
A familiar gunshot reverberated off the white walls, forcing Pyro's eyes shut both out of fear of the sound and fear of the inevitable shower of broken glass once Soldier shattered their lenses in.
The glass-shattering fist never came. Slowly, Pyro looked up to see smoke emanating from the back of Soldier's head. His eyes stared down at Pyro, but no longer registered the firebug's presence. He was dead.
Looking past the precariously balanced corpse, Pyro could see Spy lying on the ground, one eye swollen shut with his gun in his hand. His eyes betrayed that he hadn't been aiming for Soldier, and his heavy breathing indicated that he was long since past the end of his rope. The officers could tell as well and stooped down to cuff him.
Pyro hurriedly bucked Soldier's body off of them and struggled to their knees, ready to ignite both officers and rescue their teammate.
"Non!" Spy yelled, deciphering Pyro's intentions. "Just go! Run!"
Pyro hesitated and tripped over the charred corpse of the dog they had killed.
"Go, damn it!" Spy screamed as he was forced to his feet. Blood dribbled down his face from a gash above his brow.
Finally, Pyro's legs began to work properly and the firebug fled upstairs. The mayor was nowhere to be found, but the red and blue lights blinking outside were a sure sign he had phoned in reinforcements. He had the entire town at his disposal, after all.
Pyro cursed inwardly and ran away from the front door and down the hall they and Spy had come from. The study window was still open. Pyro climbed out faster than they could manage and ended up falling face-first into the flowers lining the house.
Wiping dew and smashed leaf off their mask, Pyro tried to attract as little attention in their flight as possible…
…which was hard to do in a bright red suit. One bark alerted several others and soon reinforcement canines were upon Pyro. Time to go.
The firebug narrowly avoided one hound's fangs and snapped the neck of another that tried to tackle them down. Rows and rows of houses darted by on either side, perfectly mirroring each other as Pyro ran through the streets, lungs raw and burning. No time to find Spy's web of fire escapes. Pyro had to find somewhere else where the dogs couldn't reach. Anywhere would do.
Engineer was asleep when Pyro busted down his back door, and remained so when five ferocious hounds chased the intruder up the stairs only to have the guest room door slammed in their snouts. They barked and scratched at the door while Pyro pushed the guest bed against the door, barring any further entry. Engineer continued to sleep, blissfully unaware.
Dejected, the hounds retreated. Pyro remained inside the guest room, curled up in a tight, sleepless ball. Counting each second as it slipped by like sand, Pyro anxiously awaited the morning to wash away this horrific night.
Meanwhile, Spy no longer knew where he was, confined in a cloud of murky white light and sound. He felt as if he was breathing out his ears and hearing with his eyes, his broken nose and gagged mouth nonexistent to him. If he could form a single coherent thought, he would chalk the cause of his condition up to the concoction of drugs he had been force fed. However he could not and did not, only focusing on his steady heartbeat while his disconnected soul panicked and pride perished in a hideous struggle against his impotence.
There were voices above him, beside him and in him, but he could not understand what they were saying. He could only assume as a line of silver crossed his view and began to saw open his head.