A/N: What can I say? It only takes a couple-a reviews to keep the juices flowing, and I had time. I did, intentionally, make this darker because the parents are involved- in stark contrast to the previous entry, where it was focused on the kiddies adjusting to their pet/sister.
Once again, Little Nightmares is a puzzle-platformer horror adventure game developed by Tarsier Studios starring a young girl named Six who is trying to escape the terrifying cruise ship, The Maw. Song excerpt taken from Hungry for Another One by JT Machinima which obviously inspired my infatuation with Little Nightmares.
Now on the with piece~
"You don't look like you belong here
Did you pinch yourself to see
If you'd wake up from a nightmare
Or could you still be asleep?"
-0-0-0-
Hungry for Another One:
Six and the Summers II
-0-0-0-
Six and the Phoenix
Jean really should be upset that her husband adopted a child—all but unofficially, of course, because nobody knew where the little girl in the raincoat came from which made procuring the necessary legal documents nearly impossible—without consulting her first, but as she observed Six pour through the mathematics workbook with the reluctance of a struggling student, Jean's motherly instinct took precedence.
"Not like that, Six." Jean corrected the little girl with a patient smile. Brushing a lock of red behind her ear, she took out a clean sheet of paper and wrote, "Like this. Do you see the pattern?"
The little girl looked up at her with a grimace on her lips. Clearly, she wanted nothing more than to get away from the numbers and patterns before her, but Jean knew Six understood that she sat between her and the bucket of deliciously fried chicken, and that Six also knew she could not sink her teeth in all that meat unless she finished the task at hand.
Jean needn't read her mind to know that the little girl hated how she was kept at the border between fed and starvation, but this was the longest Jean was able to keep her attention and by all means, she would exploit this to the fullest.
"Six?" Jean prompted, tapping on the workbook with her pen.
Snapping out of whatever reverie occupied her mind, Six refocused back on the task. It did not, however, take long for the girl to shoot glances at the bucket of meat.
After a minute of her pencil remaining still, Jean sighed. "Alright," she said, taking Six's pencil away and settling it on the table. The little girl looked alarmed as if she thought she had disappointed Jean in some way and thus would never have her treat. Jean shook her head slowly before levitating the food before them. "Don't worry. I'm getting hungry, too."
And then the girl smiled.
And Jean honestly did not know why Emma was so cautious that one might think she was frightened.
"Ah," Jean floated the chicken leg out of Six's reach. She fixed the little girl with a stern look. "I taught you to wash your hands before eating, didn't I?"
Six opened her mouth—and for a moment, Jean thought she'd finally hear her speak even if in protest—but it abruptly snapped with a click and Six pushed herself off the chair.
She scurried off to the washroom without another word.
One day, Jean thought, I'll peer into your mind and find out just what happened to you.
After all, more than simple curiosity and motherly worry, it wasn't fair that Emma was Six's only therapist.
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Six and the Queen
Emma Frost trusted Scott Summers.
It was simply fact.
But trust in him did not mean Emma agreed with all of his decisions. That subsequent fact remained emphatically true in her disgruntlement at having a monster in the house.
She pitied the little nightmare, truly, and much as she wanted to like the monster in a yellow raincoat—she knew how this tragedy was going to end.
Even as Scott adamantly denied it, Emma knew he knew. The little nightmare's appetite was growing—whether it was because she was a growing monster or the being inside of her was growing hungrier, Emma could not say.
Both possibilities made her nervous.
Sat on her sofa by the fireplace, Emma cautiously watched as the small figure entered the room, scurrying towards her on tiny feet.
Any other girl and Emma's heart would have melted; but for this particular monster, Emma was diamond.
Six paused a foot before her and sat on the floor.
Emma gazed down upon her—upon the monster peering up at her. With one last sip of the blood red wine that gave her strength, Emma settled the glass on the nearby table and fully faced the waiting beast.
"Let us get on with it, then." Emma said, resigned.
Beneath her hood, Six closed her eyes and waited.
Emma Frost truly wanted to love this monster wearing a little girl's skin, she did, but Emma had seen enough tragedy to read the writing on the wall when it was presented—and Six had hers creeping inside her skin.
Ever watching; ever waiting.
And if the soft-hearted Greys would not do what needed to be done when the time came, then Emma would once again prove hers was the superior blood.
But she trusted Scott Summers—and loved him dearly, still—so she would do as he asked and do her part in this tragically futile mess.
Closing her eyes, Emma tapped into Six's mind to once more confront the darkness within.
Her heart raced in fright when it once again took the reins, pulled her in, and swallowed her whole.
Because Emma knew the nightmare was just beginning, once more.
-0-0-0-
Six and the Void
It wasn't easy getting Six adjusted to the world outside The Maw, but his family tried their hardest.
But there was always that one thing missing. Amidst buffet of sausages and chicken and pastries the girl heartily feasted on, Six would still always wander, and Scott would follow. At first, the little girl would try to lose him in the darkness, but Scott was nothing if not determined. Eventually, after much heartache, he got through to her, and she always sought his permission- in her own, silent way- whenever the need came for her to wander.
And wander, she did, with steadily increasing frequency and urgency.
Tonight was no different.
Scott Summers knew it was that time again even before Six appeared on his doorstep.
Her stomach rumbled.
Wordlessly, Scott put on his jacket and grabbed the flashlight, switching it on, and he followed Six through the house. As usual, Emma was waiting for them at the doorway, and as usual, the disapproving frown remained on her lips.
Scott nodded at her, and she turned away. She knew where they were going, and though she disapproved, neither he nor Emma nor Jean could find any alternative, and so silently she let them pass.
The plot of land Emma Frost's mansion stood on was secluded. It was an old plantation she had bought and repurposed for her own use, upon which stood one of the numerous dream mansions that filled Emma's fancy.
This one just so happened to have a thicket that secluded their dwelling place from the noisy road and prying eyes. In many aspects, it reminded Scott of Xavier's mansion, only modern and personal.
Six, impatient, scurried passed the garden and into the trees. The pitter-patter of her footsteps joined the chorus of the night, and Scott's own andante followed soon after.
The night, after all, was dark, and the thicket blocked whatever holy radiance the moon wanted to bestow.
Thus, Scott listened and followed the insatiable and unmistakable rumbling of hunger.
Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.
Crunch- a twig broke.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
Crunch, crunch.
Meew—a nocturnal deer urgently called.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
Thump, thump.
Mew, mew...
Mew...
And then, silence.
Steadily, Scott tracked, flashlight in hand, and found his wayward ward.
The little girl in the yellow raincoat was crouched upon a dying deer, but she paid Scott no mind.
Her teeth were busy feasting on fresh meat.
Still as the dead, Scott remained, and he observed as Six drained the life from the fawn, one bite at a time. Its parents were long gone—they knew better than to stay when Six preyed in the night. Undoubtedly, they cursed their trespass this night.
The little nightmare finished its meal quickly, and only then did it notice it was not alone. It turned to him, slowly, fresh blood dripping down its chin and yellow raincoat.
It smiled.
It was still hungry for another one.
The thicket darkened whatever light remained flickered and fought before it was swallowed.
Darkness grew and crept like treacherous vines.
Its maw opened and it stalked towards him.
Undauntedly, Scott met her halfway, crouched, and enveloped the girl in a hug.
And just as abruptly did the light return.
Six's eyes widened. Immediately, she struggled from his grip, pushing away from her warden with all the strength her thin arms could muster.
But Scott would not budge.
Instead, he pulled her hood back and ran his hands soothingly through the little girl's dark hair.
"It's alright." He whispered comfortingly against her ear, unflinching even as her little fists pounded on his chest in protest. "You didn't harm me, Six. It's alright."
Left alone, Six would probably be happier. She would not need to feel the guilt that was tearing her apart if she was left ignorant of such concepts. Or maybe she would have died, alone, on the beach of The Maw.
It was, ultimately, impulse, pity, and self-righteousness that prompted Scott to bring the little girl with him back into the world. And for the sin of his selfishness, Scott would bear full responsibility.
That was what parenting was all about.
Slowly, her protests waned until she was left with unshed tears.
The inner conflict and confusion swirling inside her was apparent. Emma and Jean always said he did not understand feelings, but at the very least, Scott could understand this.
As Six's stomach grumbled again—the exertion of her protest no doubt stirring her half-sated appetite; Scott released her. Replacing her hood and wiping the blood on her lips with one hand, he procured strips of beef jerky from his jacket with his other and offered it to the little girl.
Six's eyes darted to the side—no doubt, the girl wanted something fresh and pulsating and living—but she took the jerky anyway and ate it with one hand.
With her other, she took his, and ushered him back to the house.
As they walked, Scott could only pity his youngest daughter and ward.
Perhaps, one day, they would banish her demon.
Perhaps, one day, she would tame it.
But most likely, one day, her hunger would best her once more.
But—and Scott's gaze planted itself on her tiny hand in his—today was not that day.
And he believed Six was stronger than his fears.
A/N: There was supposed to be two more bonus pieces involving Ruby (duh!) and Hope (ugh!) but as I was typing Scott's part, my thoughts remained dark and I couldn't muster any light-hearted hijinks anymore. So, I left it at this.
Just imagine Hope getting bitten I guess? And Ruby driving Six to an animal shelter to adopt a pet dog that Six takes care of and feeds and waits until it grows bigger and tastier and I'mma just stop right there kthxbye!
I do have one more piece bouncing around in the old crackpot, but I'm trying to figure out its setting. I don't know whether to put it down as a GoS entry, or Tyke and the Champions (which I'm somewhat remiss to write because ugh, Tyke! and I don't know much about the Champions to have any business writing them) or its own thing. Basic premise is telling a ghost story- and after that, I got nothing. Gotta shake that crackpot a few more times, I guess.
Anyways, I'll end my rambling there.
Thanks for reading and until next time!
