AN: Due to needing more time, the next one-shot special after this chapter will only be posted once it's ready. This story will go on a long hiatus as I need to write the remaining half of this story. More details are in the bottom author's note.
Chapter 34 - To a Sticky End?
An Hour Earlier, Onsàáy's Royal Lair, Los Angeles, America
Mira found herself in a sticky situation.
Literally.
She was more than happy to crawl out of this vent. She nearly lost balance when she stood up. Leg cramp. Mira didn't recall if she used all fours or only her hands to travel. While familiar with vents, it was a little hard to move around.
The last time that happened, she had her chest pressed against the floor when having field experience with the Bad Guys.
While these vents weren't dangerous, the ones in Onsàáy's lair were pretty unusual that they slowed her down.
Huffing, brushing her clothes, resisting not to lick her face. Frowning, she wiped her mouth to clear the excessive honey.
Why would these bees occupy the AC vents?
Surely, honey-coated vents wouldn't be ideal for producing cool, clean air. Maybe Onsàáy thought it was a good idea to make the vents additional honeycomb hives.
She took off her jacket to inspect the damage. While the rest of her clothes got slight dark stains, the back of her jacket and her shoes were coated in honey. Boy, they needed cleaning afterwards! Her hair was surprisingly untouched, aside from smelling like a sugar waffle.
"Oh, Mariposa is going to cling to me like a candy cane," she commented.
As she decided that it would be best to tie her jacket around her waist, she observed her surroundings and fortunately, no one was around in this room. Checking the door briefly, she could see that the lock hole's shape was already twisted around. As long nobody used a key, she was safe.
The place got all the hallmarks of a regular office room meant for one, yet too large to fit just one person. A wooden desk, a spare table for the computer. But the thing that stood out from the room, to the journalist's raised eyebrows of surprise, were the multiple posters glued to the wall.
It wasn't just regular project posters but also newspapers and random pictures from photographs to drawings and torn-up book pages with angry sketches. Whoever did this didn't seem to care about what they were doing. Mira couldn't make the connection between the thousands of business notes and mundane scribbles.
"...well, that's a lot of lore in here," she mumbled.
But with lore, there was lots of evidence to admit Onsàáy's crimes. On limited time, Mira immediately whipped out her camera and marched over to the closest wall of posters. Without needing to check for a fancy angle, she made sure the quality was clear and snapped a picture.
While not ideal, taking pictures of these posters would help cover a lot later on.
When she was about to take another picture, she lifted her eyes above her camera to find a smaller picture glued between the newspapers.
A soft coo escaped her lips towards a cute Polaroid frame, noting the innocent four pictures in a row. A younger Onsàáy was in all four. She looked normal without blue eye. As a teenager, her hair was sensibly tied in two neat, braided buns and she wore a baggy blue school jacket.
To Mira's surprise, two people accompanied in these pictures. One was a female with light skin and ash blonde hair tied in a ponytail braid with a messy sweep to the left. The other was a male with tan skin and black hair tied in a man-bun.
The journalist stared longingly at these four pictures of the smiles, the silly faces and the friendly poses. All three had their hands on each other's shoulders, at least three pictures had their tongues sticking out. Onsàáy, in particular, had the sweetest smile out of the rambunctious trio. The third picture had her and the blonde girl holding hands, nearly romantically.
Mira hummed sadly. She snapped a picture of the Polaroid frame.
And now…
A perplexed Hornet could only stand and watch the cyborgs trying to block his cage's windows and doors.
Emphasis on trying.
All they were doing was applying both normal AND duct tape to the doors and windows. There were enough gaps for Hornet to peek his head out. And to be fair, it wasn't even a proper, stable cage. In fact, the only thing that could haunt Hornet was the plastic pink glowing on his body from the light outside.
Yep, he was trapped inside a dollhouse.
He thought that Esmeralda would do worse, but she was surprisingly merciful. Even though she looked creepy. The rest of the crew thought the same, planting him in…well, this! Maybe they were friendly to their captives.
Or perhaps those people were too lazy to put him in a better confinement.
As evidence, they had the dollhouse cage on top of their refreshment table. Not really a safe place to put the house on if the table was fragile. The rest of the place was cleaned up, but many of these cyborgs took comfort in the remaining beanbags, more interested in their own conversations.
He recognized the purple-haired and the black-haired men who talked with Onsàáy last night, but they were just part of the surrounding crowd. These folks standing in front of his cage were muttering to themselves, sharing feelings of apprehension and skepticism. At least two were even carrying guns.
Hornet peeked through the biggest gaps he could find, wanting a better look.
To his surprise, they didn't look too intimidating. Just a couple of young adults with hungry or bored looks. While he received some glares, he noticed them exchanging nervous looks with whispers.
Maybe it was due to Hornet's reputation.
The only person who took this situation more seriously was Esmeralda.
The black-cladded cyborg was sitting quite far away, relaxing in one of the beanbags. However, she never took her silver and yellow eyes off him. She was observing his soul, trying to diagnose his motive. Her dress stood out as a sore thumb compared to the flashier and reserved clothes of the others.
Hornet took a moment to analyze his scenario. He wasn't panicking, surprisingly. However, he couldn't feel Onsàáy around. The thought of seeing her was aniticipated.
Second, he didn't feel crazy cooped up in this really pink house. Piranha might like this, he thought with a smile. Then again, it was a breakable cage.
Third, Mira hadn't been captured yet.
"We know who you are, little one," said one cyborg in a badly menacing tone.
Hornet rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe that he could tell whenever a criminal failed to sound like the real deal.
"Guess that we caught some nice baddies in town!" piped up another cyborg, excited. "We'll be the top mob gang in LA for meeting this bee!"
Top mob gang? Hornet raised an eyebrow with a quizzical head tilt. He would argue that they didn't have enough valuables to become a brilliant mob gang. But at least there were many of them, so they might have different operations. Something the Bad Guys struggled with as a small group.
Still, he couldn't get his mind off the plastic dollhouse.
"A dollhouse?" he squeaked, holding onto the window bars. "Really? You know this isn't the first time."
One of the cyborgs gasped, offended. "A dollhouse?! We basically put many bugs out of their misery in this one!"
Hornet grinned, whether an amused one or a sheepish one, he would never know. "Tape isn't one to put bugs out of their misery. As you already know, I've been there. It was easy to get out."
In fact, the cyborg he provoked was already gritting her teeth. "S-S-Shut up!" She tried stomping forward loudly. "We have our own ways, OK? Not all of us can have fancy-arse gadgets like how you Bad Guys have fancy-arse gadgets!"
Hornet blinked, unsure how to react to this. Was she jealous of him?
"It was very hard to find good places to make a prison!" she rambled. "Took up too much space for dorms. Do you know how hard it is to find something formidable?!"
Eventually, the black-haired cyborg tried to gently pull her away. "Come on, dude."
"Hands off me!" she snapped, her voice close to a puppy whine. "He's…he's judging us!"
Hornet thought of letting them argue, but it was clear that this eccentric crowd had no idea what else to say. Might as well get things straight before he could lose the opportunity to at least ask.
"Look, can I…talk to your leader?" he asked. "Was it Onsàáy?"
Far away, Esmeralda shifted in her beanbag. Her creepy eyes widened and they were brimming with curiosity. She tilted her head stiffly like a marionette. Hornet thought of asking her, but he hesitated. He didn't want to feel dread again. Her shining eyes could attack him again.
Those eyes reminded him too much of when he had to fight another colony to protect himself. Hers were deformed, but they bared the anger and hunger of digging the spear's tip into his body…feeling his head spinning, he shut his eyes and shook his head.
After a few minutes of taking a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes and Esmeralda was gone.
But his attention was redirected to the crowd. He forgot about them. But they weren't talking to him since they were muttering to each other.
When nobody spoke up, the purple-haired Latino man took the lead. "How did you know our queen?"
Hornet nearly considered saying everything, but when he thought about Alex and Emerald, he decided not to include them.
"Private investigator," he said. "Found her earlier this morning."
"Earlier this morning?" asked one cyborg.
"Where?" asked another.
"At an ice cream shop," said Hornet. His good antenna twitched, feeling worried. "...oh, and she ate someone else's ice cream germs when she put the wrong spoon into the wrong cup. In case you saw her coming down with a cold and a sore throat."
"Emerald," growled the purple-haired and black-haired men in complete deadpan.
"Her again?" said another cyborg. "I knew that chick was trouble!"
"Whoa!" protested Hornet quickly. "She wasn't there! I didn't see an 'Emerald' there!"
One cyborg thought about it. "Well, we know how outgoing Onsàáy had been lately."
"Whatever the cause, what are you doing here?" asked a blonde cyborg.
Now, this was where things got complicated. Hornet was sure that these guys were the prime suspects of Susan's kidnappers and associates with Sunnyside Labs. However, he couldn't really confirm until Onsàáy showed her face. Plus, the way these guys were acting, he wasn't sure they were responsible anymore. He could be picking on innocent vigilantes!
"I suppose that…it's gonna be hard picking out the suspects," he lampshaded, resting his chin against the window frame. "Because I believe you people were involved with the disappearances of so many people. The ones who signed their souls to Sunnyside Labs? Eden Apples? Ring a bell?"
The crowd gasped.
Hornet took the moment to try to find Esmeralda, but she was nowhere in sight.
Please let her not find Mira, he gulped.
On cue, he could hear worried murmurs from the cyborgs, asking each other questions. One of them began blaming another for this. However, all he managed to pick up were, "What did he say?" and "Where did he get this?"
It was a choir of confusion. They must be indeed guilty.
"Maybe I can point out a secret?" demanded Hornet. "How about: Susan Paste?"
The crowd froze and a red-haired cyborg raised her hand. "Me?"
Hornet stared at her in disbelief. "N-Not you! More black-haired, wore a black hoodie. She worked with Professor Franken. Her last appearance was at Centralway Mall when you seemed to capture her!"
Once again, the crowd muttered to themselves. This time, it was surprisingly quick. There was no stuttering.
"What are you talking about?" spoke up the purple-haired man.
"Are you still referring to me?" asked 'Susan'.
Hornet's new doubts were starting to settle in. "Hold on a second. You have no idea who Susan Paste is?"
The cyborgs glanced at each other before they shook their heads with scattered sounds.
Upset, Hornet sighed and rested his forehead against the wall. Yep, he was picking on the wrong guys. Even though they were the ones with the leader cred. He couldn't help but wonder if he and Mira ended up at the wrong place where Onsàáy was said to be at…
He lifted his eyes from a memory. "…the Sunnyside scientists? Are they here? What did you do to them?"
He didn't need to inquire when the blonde cyborg cut the question off. Even the cyborgs didn't react, stepping aside to let the show-off take over.
"OK, enough with the accusations, buddy," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Even if they are here, there's no fault in that, right? I mean, criminal to criminal, that's how we roll!"
There was a scattered clamor amongst the cyborgs. Most of them were positive or had smiles on their faces.
"My friends and I are inspired by you and the Bad Guys!" piped up one of the cyborgs.
To say that Hornet wouldn't expect this would be an understatement. While he knew that people could become criminals on their own paths, just like he and his friends did, he didn't expect those guys to have him as an inspiration. The hidden striped clothes spoke a lot.
However, Onsàáy's actions were clearly doing more harm than good, a possible trait hanging from the Mecha Underlords. If Emerald's word was right. So how could the Bad Guys serve as an inspiration to these…kidnappers?
Don't forget this; Hornet still had a bad hangup over dragging Emerald to his office and it was a sour hasty move he despised. Sure, he and Mira were rushing and they didn't know if Emerald was guilty, but it didn't feel like they had the authority to take an innocent as leverage without their consent.
"I'm…an inspiration to you?" he asked, baffled.
"Yeah!" said the blonde cyborg, leaning against the shaky dollhouse. "So you would be fine with kidnapping people, wouldn't you?"
'And torturing them' was the missing key. But even without it, it didn't make Hornet feel better. As he compared himself to Onsàáy, he trembled in dawning horror and concern by her blase attitudes towards the scientists.
"No!" he blurted out. "I don't!"
"But it would have been so much fun," pointed out another cyborg. "Getting to steal toys to earn more on what you want."
"OK, I steal things, I steal money, I rob for a lifetime! Yes, but hurting people, including kidnapping? That's too low, even for me!"
"Hold up, guys. Let me take over." The blonde cyborg maintained control of the conversation, eyes eager to receive the celebrity appreciation. When no one talked, he smirked confidently and turned to Hornet with a dazzling eye. "Look at what we have crafted! One just needs to borrow one's blessings to make a fortune. Call it like stealing fridges!"
Hornet's eyes drifted to the snacks left on the refreshment table. An imagination of one of these cyborgs stealing candy from a baby came to mind.
"To be fair, the Bad Guys don't rob houses anymore," he said quietly. "We prefer banks lately."
"But you did rob houses before!"
"That doesn't excuse your kidnappings…"
Surprisingly, the blonde cyborg didn't take offense. He only laughed proudly, exposing his sharp teeth. "But it can't be that bad! It's not like it's a full-scale terrorist attack."
"But what about that time when you and I looted and penetrated those children's hospitals?" asked one of the cyborgs.
The blonde cyborg's smirk barely faltered.
BANG!
Only a few seconds allowed peace and quiet, but Hornet didn't get the time to think about the implication when the blonde cyborg pulled out a pistol.
His ears weren't ringing, already experienced the bloody fight at Centralway Mall. But his innocent eyes were exposed to a cyborg flopping onto the floor, his resting face creating a pool of yellow.
Hornet gasped too loudly, covering his mouth with his tiny hands. He could smell the smoke of the gun and hear the pleased breathing from the blonde cyborg.
Before Hornet could think, the black-haired man snarled in frustration.
"Dude! You're serious?!"
"What?" said the blonde cyborg dumbly. "I need to silence him!"
"Then just silence him! Not shoot him in the head!"
"Then what other way should I silence him without him making a sound that would make me appear hypocritical?!"
One of the cyborgs even burst into laughter.
Groaning, Hornet pulled onto his antennas. He might go crazy from this long night.
Mira's field experience in investigative journalism paid off. The Bad Guys were a big help in getting close to even the most dangerous scenes. But it gave her additional stamina to keep a keen and attentive eye when the room was rich in evidence.
She could make a break for it with every file she could hold. But luck was on her side, allowing her to carefully take her time snapping a picture of every poster in this room. Reading would have to come later.
That being said, this progress was much like a student struggling to use their phone to capture every description box of many art sculptures. And some posters appeared irrelevant to Onsàáy's current circumstances.
Even when Mira came across a poster that talked more about the biology of bees, she still took pictures. Details could still be crucial. Interpretations for a certain suspect. Half of the journalists in Los Angeles, especially Tiffany Fluffit, tend to rely on superficial facts. It was time-consuming, but Mira would rather go with what could be beneath.
She smiled to herself as she took a massive shot of papers spread out on the desk. This would be one hell of a study later on, but she felt proud of herself for recording all of this. Hornet might appreciate this as well!
She closed one folder and kept it safely back in its spot. Looking around the room once more, while she hadn't read, she was already familiar with the presentation of these posters and notes. From what she could tell, Onsàáy seemed to be the person who kept their childhood memories on the wall…
Was that everything?
Mira hummed. Something didn't feel right. It wasn't like her camera's storage was full. She was worried she might miss out on something. Her mind felt heavy, but she had enough energy to move around.
She began walking forward, and the sound beneath her foot made a hollow thump.
The journalist blinked.
She took a step back and was greeted with a thunk.
Stepped forward and she could hear a thump.
She scraped her foot across the carpet and the tip of her shoe felt the edge of it. Squatting down, Mira placed her fingers around the soft gap and lifted the loose part of the carpet upwards. She nearly fell backwards when the weight registered into her preparedness. Sure enough, the carpet revealed the concrete material beneath with a large trapdoor.
There wasn't a key required, so she easily opened the trapdoor.
Mira half-expected a scary hallway to a basement, but it was only a tiny compartment. Resembling a locker space. More folders, binders and files kept in neat plastic pockets, safe from dust. She lifted up her camera in her left hand and her right hand gingerly picked up a binder, holding it with gentle care.
She was about to take a photo when she noticed the hardcover of this binder was covered in scratch-like ink marks. Abstract art compared to the clean and uplifting posters. Mira doubted Onsàáy would make something like this…then again, the young cyborg might. The journalist decided to open the binder without a second thought.
It was only when she saw the first plastic pocket that she had second thoughts. Her eyes widened in a mix of curiosity and fright, laid upon the distorted drawings kept. She quietly turned off her camera and placed it into her jacket pocket.
Ranging from small paper cards to full-sized paper sheets, but their sizes barely downplayed the volume of these artworks. One drawing was an artistic depiction of a single lightbulb in a dark hallway. Another was a childish yet demonic black creature with sharp fangs and deranged eyes. The larger picture depicted a girl holding onto a slender guinea pig's hand, starkly contrasting the dark scribbles surrounding them.
Mira frowned. Onsàáy barely had these up on the walls. Was it? Not sure. These pictures weren't consistent in art styles. The paint and pencils used for this also appeared different, taking the appearance of violent waves crashing in. Maybe it might be from her crew?
She turned to the next plastic pocket. She was relieved that it was a written letter. There was the Sunnyside Labs logo on the top left. The top right was filled with personal details. Interestingly, the name text box contained the words 'Subject 5,043'.
The rest of the letter was written in ink.
I can't take this anymore. I don't want to keep living a life with cyan electricity running through my veins.
It's a gunshot fire in your chest, but the aftermath is the strongest. The shooting is just the entree. The pain continues to throb in your bones. Your head is spinning, your body in need to lie down and your mind is telling you to scream scream SCREAM
but there is no other place to scream out loud, only to your worst moments
I keep seeing him in my bed. His beautiful face twisting in an abomination. He must have seen me above the women he kissed before. I don't care what I said to myself. His last words, I remember, were, 'YOU NEVER MEAN ANYTHING TO ME.' It repeats in my head. And it's already in my head and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again
Are they telling me it's my fault that neither of us could be happy?
I'm so sorry that I have shared my melodrama again. I know I had been reaching out to other services I wasn't allowed to see, but I now see no worth in being a bothersome to anyone at all. Nothing of what I want to do best for you matters. Nothing of what I believe in matters. For there, I remain in my room; no one can destroy it.
No one can destroy it.
No one can destroy it.
no one can destroy it-
The last two words were written in heavy ink. Stained and distorted. A large ink stain trailed from the last letter. Then, Mira's eyes traced over the holes at the bottom of the paper. She noticed the wrinkles as well.
Clearly, this wasn't just a generic confession; it was a suicide letter that ended with the letter subject to the writer's last breakdown.
The binder nearly slipped out of her hands as she stared at the letter for a long while. She meekly flipped back to the first plastic pocket.
The large drawing changed.
The girl's eyes were replaced with red Xs and the guinea pig was replaced by a tall, lanky humanoid with demon horns.
Her mind was flooded with questions.
She checked the suicide letter, but there was no official name in it. She checked the subject number.
5043.
At that moment, she discovered how many test subjects were involved in making the Eden Apples. That lasted for years. Grief made her sob, but it was the terror of these untold experiments that shook her. What exactly did they go through and how close were each of them to dying?!
There was a click from the doorknob and Mira's head whipped around. Buzzing in energy from the discovery, she dropped the binder and made a beeline to the door.
The knob refused to budge. She cursed to herself, wishing she had taken classes for unlocking locks.
As she tried opening the stubborn door, a new sensation tingled her body. One that got her on high alert. It felt like…bad news was already in the room. She couldn't push down the growing anxiety. It was right there. Watching her.
She turned around and was greeted by the menacing Esmeralda.
Her eyes weren't as sharp as when she captured Hornet, but the boredom demonstrated an impatience to get things over. Even if that meant snapping Mira's neck.
Even though this woman was already giving a creepy vibe, Mira couldn't help but notice how different this cyborg was. She didn't even look like she fit in Onsàáy's group.
"Never knew that witches exist in this world," quipped Mira. "You're one?"
Esmeralda simply shook her head, her lips refusing to open.
"Guess everyone now has some cosplay slapped on," muttered Mira. "Though, I like your dress…"
She kept up the sarcasm, but she needed to stall this person. Long enough to try to reach the inside of her tied jacket. The bad thing was that the pocket was too long enough to reach and bending down could send a warning to Esmeralda. But once she felt the spiky tip of her laser pen, she gritted her teeth and whipped it out.
Unfortunately, when she directed it to Esmeralda, her eyes were already close to hers.
It came out of nowhere when she slammed her head against the wall by the throat. Mira yelped, stunned by the pain, the suddenness and the pen slipping out of her hand. But Esmeralda wasn't done yet: as the back of Mira's head was pressed against the wall, ripping through the posters, she got a good look into the cyborg's slit eyes and the excitement within.
However, unlike Hornet, Mira was only an inch higher than Esmeralda and was in the range of nearby objects.
Flailing one arm upwards, she snagged a poster and pushed it into Esmeralda's face. It was enough to free Mira and she stumbled back. It was a miracle she could still think properly. The adrenaline drowned out her head feeling like it could crack.
The frustrated cyborg growled and ripped the poster to pieces.
Right near the desk, Mira immediately took cover as Esmeralda charged forward.
"BACK OFF!" snarled the journalist, throwing the computer.
It hit Esmeralda right in the head, stumbling backwards.
A splitting headache slowed her and lessened her reaction time to an orphaned table shelf thrown at her waist. She gasped, drawing a raspy sound of pain.
And then, she looked up to find a CHAIR coming to her face. She immediately grabbed the legs to protect herself, but the chair was flying so fast that she eventually fell backwards.
As soon as keys bounced out from Esmeralda's dress, Mira wasted no time in picking it up and making a beeline to the door. With eyes on the door and ears on Esmeralda's slow movements, the journalists kept hissing to herself as she desperately tried placing the key in the hole properly.
Only a few clicks and then feeling the key sliding got her smiling in satisfaction.
The door burst open as fast as Mira ran out of the room. She felt cold, but it was a breeze for freedom. Too bad that the minute she stepped into the blue and yellow hallway, two groups of at least five cyborgs surrounded her from every same, all wielding the same crossbows.
This was much less scary but no less unpleasant with the bows pointed at her. Mira had no idea if they would leave more than just a scar on her body. Turning around, she watched the gritty Esmeralda stepping out from the room, a sadistic smile crossing her face.
Mira clenched her teeth with an audible whimper.
Hornet thought that he was gonna be scarred to death when the cyborgs had to drag the likely dead body away, but the next few minutes were just tons of questions that were absurd. They reminded him a lot about Alex, except they seemed to be already neck-deep in this criminal business.
And all the kinds of ideas and responses these eccentric cyborgs had could be said to be inane since they didn't seem as careful as they think. They were beginning to ask him for tips, but he was reluctant to. He didn't know if he could trust them taking his word.
"I don't care if my stripes are similar to the bees!" he exclaimed. "I will NOT teach them how to use guns!"
"But they are cyborg bees!" argued the purple-haired cyborg. "Customized to our own commands! And easier for our queen to control them."
"Give it up, dude," muttered the black-haired cyborg. "He's not gonna budge."
"Shut up! I'm marketing here!"
"But I can't really speak 'animal'," said Hornet, rubbing his arms in discomfort. "There's a difference."
"But you're a talking insect."
"But not an insect of a similar tongue."
"You're a talking insect who tasted another tongue."
"At least I got good tastes," huffed Hornet. He didn't know why, but he wanted to brag about that part to clarify his intentions. "It's not like I know how to stir my tongue around to make the honey or collect the pollen from the flower to transport it onto the buds or ensure that the hole is big enough to fill in a growing ba…" He trailed off, his mind flashing to Piranha's face poking out from the bed pillowcase. His cheeks heated up, turning red. "I mean, imagine it like…I don't fit in with…you know. It's a much bigger world! It's huge and big and…squishy-!"
"OK, OK," interrupted the purple-haired cyborg. "Let's not make things too weird, especially to the guys who couldn't get a wife."
"Is this about bees or having hives?" snarked the black-haired cyborg.
Hornet sighed. "Alright, I'm done here."
With all windows and doors barricaded, Hornet could do the most logical thing.
Pushing the dollhouse.
He pressed his head and hands against the wall. Or at least what he thought was the wall. He pressed against the sticky tape, but it worked when he pushed forward. Just enough casual strength to itch the plastic dollhouse close to the table's edge.
Unfortunately, the crowd was still in front of him and the blonde cyborg was quick to push the dollhouse back to the middle of the table.
Inside, Hornet's eyes widened in realization that he couldn't move. He couldn't even fly out properly. He was stuck to the tape!
"This is harder than it looks," he admitted.
"What do you think you're doing, little one?" sneered the blonde cyborg.
Hornet groaned nervously. "Wishing that I have some scissors." He then proceeded to bite the tape. "Or other things…my lips are stuck."
"Don't worry. You will have a bigger pair soon. Our queen bee will visit you in the morning. For now, how about we apply something more stickier to you-"
Hornet didn't realize there was a door from behind and it burst open to reveal at least five screaming cyborgs on a speeding shopping trolley. Heading straight towards the back of the dollhouse.
Hornet could only close his eyes, feeling the dollhouse launching upwards in a million pieces. There were a couple more definitely manly screams and what appeared to be water splashing.
It was a shame that he was still glued, stuck on some tape covering the fractured window frame. One female cyborg simply caught him and Hornet was now in the grips of a fist. Again.
Fluttering his eyes open, he could see a cartoonish pile of several cyborgs, a trolley and pieces of the table.
He looked upwards and to his surprise, Mira was right there. She was holding a pen in her hands that was clearly losing ink. She ignored the ink dripping onto her fingers, more aware of the guns pointed at her from the highly-strung cyborgs.
She turned around and saw Esmeralda catching up…before she bent down on her knees, huffing like she ran a tournament.
Mira turned back to the vast handful of enemies in front of her.
"Oh, wow…" she chuckled sheepishly. "Didn't realize we were supposed to bring guns."
Within seconds, the cyborgs wasted no time in appropriately apprehending their captives. They tied Mira and Hornet to a chair with leftover duct tape. Well, they forced Hornet to be glued on Mira's left shoulder. Strangely, the cyborgs brought in large buckets of golden honey.
Cue the two drenched in chewy, sugary and heavy honey, weighing on them like a melting marshmallow.
The cyborgs brought in cloths to wipe the honey off their faces. At least they could still breathe. By the time they were done, Hornet and Mira could be said to be frozen in a distorted yellow ice cube visualized by clay.
Once the honey covered the top of their heads, the cyborgs stepped away, laughing. Their huge grins looked WAY too happy about this.
Hornet was starting to freak out. "Honey?! Are you kidding me?!"
"Don't you worry," said the black-haired cyborg with a smirk. "You got enough to eat!"
"And enough for the kids once the candy dries!" crowed the purple-haired man.
Meanwhile, in the background, Esmeralda could only bite her lip. Unlike the amused crowd, she didn't appear to like this. Or at least the purpose of this strategy. Shaking her head, she turned on her heel and walked away again.
Hornet was more focused on the honey covering his entire body. It was freezing. Who knows how long they put the honey in the fridge for?! And since it hadn't solidified yet, it was all slime with the equivalent texture of…boogers! He was grateful it didn't get into his mouth, but the feeling of squishy goo pressing against his lovely skin and wings…
"It's so…cold. And slimy…" His eye began twitching, coupled with his breaking voice.
Mira sighed, anxious as well. "Yeah…I'm sorry, Hornet. I didn't hide well."
"I-It's fine," added Hornet hastily. It wasn't an afterthought, but it was a clear understatement. Neither prepared well for Esmeralda, the powerhouse of Onsàáy's crew. His eyes darted down and spotted a camera poking out from Mira's jacket pocket. "Will…that camera work later on?"
"The charging hole is already plugged up and I turned it off," said Mira. "So…it might survive this. I hope."
"Then that would be our evidence…once we figure out how to get out without being eaten."
[Fantasy - Lauren Specer Smith, GAYLE and Em Beihold]
[Repeat 0:00 - 0:03]
Lucas Porter cried the whole time as he ran blindly through the dark labyrinth. Only little light from the flickering ceiling lights gave him illumination. However, it was a reminder of how grim his scenario was. The grimness of leaving his colleagues behind in their mission to not let Onsàáy get her hands on the knowledge that could provide the havoc wanted.
The door was left open. In one way, they could walk around as long as they remained on the same floor. On the other hand, it was a daring escape to freedom. But they shouldn't underestimate the people who captured them. Lucas had his eyes on this for a long time.
He blindly crashed into a wall, lost in his hysteria. He wanted to do this for a long time, but the dim lighting in these hallways showed how impossible it was to run away. He couldn't tell if he was near the exit or an elevator. The gray doors were nearly the same. There was an abundance of dark corners that evoked his worst fears. Fears of anything that could slither out of the dark. A hiding force that prevented him from seeing the sky again.
She had tears in her eyes. Lucas himself was starting to tear up as well. Not only would this be the last time they saw each other, but it was Lucas trying to be the voice to tell everyone they were wrong. And that would mean consequences for him. She was scared of this. She didn't want to lose him because fate had it for them.
Whispers of desperate cries replayed in his head. A track record to keep his mind off his surroundings, but they barely made him feel better. It only encouraged him to want to run back and hear his colleagues' words of worry and comfort. He wanted to try to be their hope. However, hope was something they couldn't achieve.
A sharp hiss underneath his feet got the best of him, his mind screaming to stop and observe. Lucas could hear his intense breathing, slowly making sense of how he felt.
He was truly alone in this hallway.
Detached yet exposed, anything would be more than happy to swoop him away. The dim lighting could have worked for him, but it was against him.
To put it simply, he didn't know what to do with the more powerful cyborgs.
Aside from his pounding heartbeat, there was no other sound in this hallway. Lucas tried to weigh the gravity of his situation. He knew that he was far from his colleagues. But who else would be here? Maybe some guards, but he steered away from the rooms they would be likely at.
The hallway he was in should be secluded. Just him. And a couple of benches. And an empty water cooler. And some flickering lighting.
His eyes curiously turned to the wall. Coated in fully black with a polished look. It wasn't in paint. A light drop. He whirled around where he heard it and stared. A blue graffiti can rolling on the floor. It didn't even stop. It was rolling towards him. He looked upwards but found no potential source. Eventually, he turned back to the black wall and a gasp escaped his lips.
What lay in front of him was abstract. He questioned how the hell THESE doodles appeared before him. A painting of the Devil with a finger over his lips and his eyes burning in hunger. A bleeding, smiley face with an arrow poking through it. A stick figure hanging by a noose. A hill of graves with the names on the tombstones containing childish insults.
They all just appeared in the blink of an eye. The opposite of red painted them, removing the idea of blood. However, this shade of blue unsettled Lucas.
Lucas felt a lump forming in his throat. And just like that, he was slowly losing his confidence. He felt limp. He wanted to scream, not just in horror, but in despair. It was only a miracle when his arrogance told him to man up. He shouldn't slow down. This wouldn't really mean anything.
He closed his eyes and counted to three. A quick rationalize to make him sane. By then, he managed to depict the blue graffiti as propaganda.
[Pause]
But not the girl who was right up in his face.
"Hello, Lucas!" said Onsàáy cheerily with a sharp-toothed grin.
Lucas yelped, jumping backwards. "AH! Dear heavens!"
Instinctively, he glanced back at the wall. The graffiti was gone. He turned back to Onsàáy. There was nothing hideous about her. Her sweet smiling face told him that things were about to go sideways for him. And the smile didn't look friendly at all. It was strained.
"I knew you would eventually run away," she said casually. "You don't think I would leave my underlings to watch over you?"
Lucas glanced over her shoulder. There was a lot of free space to run around. No backup guards with Onsàáy. For some reason, the dark hallways were preferably comfortable than being with her. He cast a careful look at her, trying to think of how to evade her.
Onsàáy seemed to notice, breaking the silence. "Why so quiet? What's with the gloomy face?"
Lucas couldn't really speak. In fact, his mind was dead set on how to book it. He didn't think through what would happen if he saw her again. She was playing with him. Something he never did when younger. His lips and knees were trembling, wanting to give into collapsing in hopes of mercy. To feel weak and find comfort in it from the madness.
The thought of wanting to tell her that was unachievable.
"You're…you're really crazy," he muttered.
Onsàáy giggled, stroking her chin with one finger. "Oh, you know me really well, darling. And you would probably know what I want by now?"
The giggling was unsettling. A contrast to her ordinarily deep-toned voice. Lucas felt his eye twitch. The woman's eerie chipperness was expected, but it told him much about her.
"OK," he said in a desperate bid to try getting some humanity out of his captor. He timidly raised a finger up, his way of trying to understand. "I can see that there has been personal history and you really want to make your ex hurt-!"
Lucas was surprised that he didn't scream when Onsàáy suddenly grabbed his arm. It was so sudden that he thought she would rip it off. Her reflexive arm twisting his arm around was only a small percent of her true strength. His fearful eyes turned from his disapproved offer for a handshake to the restrained anger shining in Onsàáy's eyes.
"Really?" she growled, a mixture of a teenager's annoyance and a hungry bear's menace. "THAT'S where we are heading now?"
She shoved Lucas away, providing some distance for her to make the proper first step. The elegant footstep combined with the heavy clunk of her boot demonstrated her authority. And Lucas' footsteps as he backed away were quieter as a mouse.
"Don't you know how big the Mecha Underlords are becoming?" whispered Onsàáy. "When I say I want them dead, I mean it." Her blue eye glowed from this firm statement with a murderous intent. "They have been evolving over time. How much longer will you disobey me if you could just cut the time? Why bury the key deeper?"
Lucas would have agreed. He had never heard of the Mecha Underlords, which was the problem. He and his colleagues lived in fear under this psycho. His eyes were still on the free space behind her, anticipating a chance to run and scream. His growing anxiety trembled him in concern over the likelihood of giving what Onsàáy wanted.
"No, no. I…" He paused, needing to bite his tongue to spit it out. "I won't give you the formula. It's too risky. It could create a bigger proximity of damage! Innocent people nearby will die!"
Onsàáy groaned, shaking her head. She took the time to growl, unable to tolerate this. Her eyes flashed to worry for a moment, but it was replaced by a mask of ignorance.
"Who cares?" she barked. "Everyone will go back to normal after a murder. That's how things are and that's the only thing we can agree on! And no one will eventually care about what I do."
Lucas clenched his teeth. One way or another, this angry girl would let him know it until he hit the ground to create a crater. The need for righteousness remained and the words foolishly flowed out.
"Y-You are forgetting one thing!" he shouted. "The reason why I ended ties with Franken instead of killing him was because of Marmalade! I chose to walk away from that! You were trying to hire Marmalade! How's that for learning?!"
Lucas' frustration briefly shone when Onsàáy's almost instant reaction was to roll her eyes. It was also the establishment of dread. Her careless act in pushing things aside. To Onsàáy, Lucas was just another guy who had no idea what he was talking about.
"Ugh, waste of time." Her mood melted into one of a reborn grin. Her blue eye was glowing brightly, matching her fierce grin. "No matter. I'll just make sure to get this right. Even if I have to keep squeezing your colleagues." She chuckled with a sweet undertone of a fairy, light as floss. "Oh, don't worry. They'll figure out the formula in time."
Lucas gasped despite Onsàáy placing her hands around his neck. Every finger digging in further felt like a plug being pushed down his throat. He tried screaming, but he couldn't get anything out. And all he could see was the psycho's sadistic smile, her hungry eyes for the action. He was gonna die here.
His mind went back to telling him to run and his hands were twitching. But in this state of being terrified out of his mind, his palms felt the water cooler. The large empty container. It was loose on its collar. Thinking quickly, Lucas mustered all of his strength and twirled around to slam the container right into Onsàáy's face.
He didn't look back on her. Driven by his desire to escape and spread the news, Lucas bolted out from the hallway. From behind, Onsàáy rubbed her face. But she could see Lucas drifting around the corner. A sick smile reformed.
"Oh, this is gonna be a lot of fun," she thought.
Lucas was alone again in the dark hallways. But it would only be a matter of time. His heightened sense of danger fuelled his coordination in where he should go. He didn't stop around the shadowy parts. He didn't want to come close. Confrontation would be a nasty blow to his escalating fear. He only focused on running non-stop.
Finding a direct way out of this place was a maze. Literally. He kept turning at every corner he saw, making heads or tails on if they were safe. At this point, he could be running in circles. But he could feel the presence of Onsàáy coming closer and closer to him. He didn't care if he was going nowhere. He only wanted to lose her for as long as possible.
He finally skidded to a stop to find an elevator in sight. The familiar metal door frame welcoming a refreshing way for freedom. Lucas nearly faltered in his manic run, his hands clutching his head in disbelief. Before he could have second thoughts, he only rushed forward and slammed a fist onto the panel button.
But to his surprise, the elevator wasn't as empty as he hoped it to be when it opened.
There were bees.
Lots and lots of bees.
The buzzing already filled his ears, but it became close as the swarm of tiny dots crashed into his face.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" he yelled incredulously. "You put bees in there?!"
But there was no answer to the surrealism. There was just the sting that could leave more than swells. The flailing Lucas screamed, stumbling backwards. His flailing arms only encouraged the hostile bees to attack aggressively. Pricks forcibly pushed into his skin to drench his head in blurry pain. Knives poked into his flesh, but their scratches were only to distract him in idiocy.
And that was what he recognized. Despite now being a few steps away from it, his last remaining determination pushed him forward. The bees were surprisingly strong, making his footsteps more sluggish and soft. Despite the fog around his head, the tug of walking through sand made him feel more tired.
However, despite his narrowed eyes, his angled eyebrows and gritted teeth signaled the determination he carried to not go down without a fight.
Getting to the elevator while braving through the bees was a painful mission. Humiliated and swelling, Lucas made it close to the elevator door. But once he reached out to the elevator panel, another hand grabbed him.
Onsàáy.
A sadistic grin with a tongue licking her lips in mocking tasting.
She threw Lucas over her head and slammed him to the ground. Lucas cried loudly, his back breaking. Vulnerability took hold and he was unable to hold up his guard for long. His fearful eyes looked up to see the grinning Onsàáy. The bees moved around her, but they barely did any harm. In fact, they were swirling around her to form a thick black whirlwind.
She shrugged with a comical giggle before leaping down suddenly and wrapping her hands around Lucas' neck. But he immediately knew that she would do so. He lifted his knee upwards, kicking Onsàáy in the stomach. The cyborg grunted, falling backwards. He didn't see her body, but it must have hurt.
He didn't savor this. He immediately rolled onto his chest and began clawing the floor. Now, on all fours, the weakened Lucas sluggishly growled away. The bees remained around him, putting up a tremendous, inevitable storm. Lucas could only close his eyes, resigned to the stings on his face. The only thing he wanted to do was to stop Onsàáy from her mad plans.
Despair flooded him. If his colleagues saw him like this, they would break. But he couldn't let them down. He couldn't die like this. They need him.
Lucas was tearing up, but the tears formed quickly when the recovered Onsàáy slammed his head on the floor. His vision blurred and his world was spinning. The disoriented Lucas tried rolling back to lie on his back, searching for a new angle.
But Onsàáy wouldn't allow it.
With a razor-shaped grin that contrasted the dark storm of bees, Onsàáy lifted her foot upwards and slammed the sole of her boot against Lucas' skull.
[Resume at 2:00]
The stereo near her bed played a faint melody, nearly silent. Peaceful against its surroundings.
The boot slipped out from her foot more easily than the heaviness she wore. Her bedroom was dark, with the only light coming from the honey lava lamp sitting peacefully on the table beside her bed. She wouldn't have to see the red blood stain on her boot, but she was fully aware that it would still be there…even if she tried cleaning it away.
As she kicked off the other boot, she yawned. All this high energy was killing her. A slight smile flashed over her, a satisfaction from burning her body in the wild chase. She remembered. The high energy, the sense of success and the game she played with the no-good Lucas. She didn't need a reason to keep Lucas around.
She giggled to herself, marveling over the battle. Lucas died with honor, after all. Something she wished to see more often. Something that would keep her alive rather than being met with the same predictable outcome.
Taking the first step forward, it was soft. However, it felt heavy to her the moment she thought of killing Lucas as a sport. A really rash decision to make. But…she's already crazy. She couldn't help it. Why should she dwell on that? And hell, she didn't feel bad when she repeatedly squished his head like a watermelon.
It was all just part of a game.
A…stupid game.
The smile disappeared from Onsàáy. In the dark bedroom, nobody could see the crack in her deranged demeanor. It was one out of the question. A long-time question on if that was what she wanted? Well…maybe? But she already did murder many people before, so she should submit to it. There was no way of going back.
She remembered Lucas before she delivered the final kill. While pleased that he wasn't pleading for his life, his forlorn eyes said another direction. He did try to escape without telling her the formula needed to extinguish the Mecha Underlords. He fought so hard to live, to even make his pathetic life purposeful, and she cut that off.
And given his close relationships with his colleagues, this might put them in bad condition.
Onsàáy sighed sadly. She remembered the many times she had argued back then. The moments when she hesitated in crossing the line. The worst memories still lingered. But when she thought back to the good memories and the warmth of his gaze…all of that was enough to shut her body down and collapse into the comforts of her bed.
Meeting the Mecha Underlords was a ruthless encounter. When I learned, I didn't know what to think about one of them befriending Snake. Maybe there is no way of changing deceit, no matter who we meet.
Even if she had to get up in the morning to address a reported inconvenience, she would make the most of this moment. Cause without light, no one could see her like this. She let her mind slip away, her hands feeling the softness of the blanket.
The melodic music kept playing from the stereo, distant, ignored.
But sometimes, in a dilemma that tells only one 'resolution' for them...
"Dad, Mum," she muttered, a melancholic prayer to remind her what was in store. "I wish…you would be here to see me like this."
I wonder how they can be able to sleep on this.
[End of Song]
AN: It feels fitting to finish Day 4 with this, especially now that Hornet and Mira are trapped in the worst way possible. It also gives you an idea of who Onsàáy really is at this point!
The entire starting scene of Hornet talking with Onsàáy's crew is pretty funny! Took inspiration from Hawkeye to help set the scene and add in a few more jokes myself. Thought a dollhouse would work and it's a call-back to what he did in Rally's story. Hornet's refusal to teach bees how to shoot is inspired by a scene in the 2023 movie Barbie.
Also, the one blonde guy killing off another takes inspiration from SMG4: Stupid Bowser's Fury. We are still not gonna rest on the cyborg kills, lmao.
Mira's investigation starts to include more horror elements of the story as the plot escalated. The suicide letter she found actually took inspiration from Doki Doki Literature Club though I wonder if I tried too hard in making it disturbing. Esmeralda's presence has to be intense, but I decided that Mira fights her off for a while, taking some inspiration from the Scream movies. And it's a reminder that Esmeralda, while tough, IS a human.
And lastly, Lucas' escape and inevitable death take inspiration from M3GAN, Scream and Murder Drones! I want to create this haunting, slasher feel to the scene since this is the perfect way to showcase Onsàáy. It's also where we see some humanity in some of the Sunnyside researchers, with Lucas being against giving her the formula she needs.
And that's it for this chapter! Thanks for reading this chapter! What do you think of the return of looking back at Hornet and Mira? Let me know in your reviews. If you enjoy this story so far, be sure to favorite or follow. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but if any flames, then it's down the drain.
We'll be taking a hiatus from the story as we come close to the middle of the story. While unable to tell how much will be written for the second half of the story, I'll be making it my priority to continue working on the rest of the story until it is ready. Likely in 2025 as it nearly took about nearly a year and a half to make the chapters so far. Yeah, I need time REALLY bad.
It might be disappointing that it'll have to take a while, but things might need to simmer down after the many chapter publishes I made.
And speaking of which, the next one-shot special won't come so soon tomorrow. As me and Rally haven't finished editing it, it'll come out once it's ready. For now, remain patient, share this story with your friends and stay tuned.
THE BAD GUYS AND THE MECHA UNDERLORDS WILL RETURN.
Until next time, keep on rocking!