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bluepenguinstories · 1 year ago

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Hypothetical Anxious Mouse

Deep within the wood stood the rusted remains of a once thriving public park. Rusted monkey bars, a partially collapsed play structure, and a swing set that creaked, and one of the seats were missing. There was a committee made up of the commune who resided within the former park who stated that they would get to work on repairing the monuments and making it a place where people of all ages could play once more. However, months after such a declaration was made, there has been no progress with regards to their mission. How could there be when survival always took precedent?

At the center of this former forest resided a wide building coated with peach colored paint, and had boarded up windows. It was once known as a recreational center and the open room in the middle of the building was home to a basketball court and sometimes the elderly would get together and play shuffle board, or there would be chess tournaments hosted there. Now, it was a place where crowds of people slept, and various blankets and sleeping bags filled the floor. One corner of the room had a pile of blankets and a sleeping bag stuffed with pillows.

Minerva Pond, or as she preferred, Minnow, was exhausted after walking through the woods and not seeing a hint of human life all day, aside from her constant companion. Her feet ached and her back kept giving her the feeling of pins and needles. When she found this community, it was like finding an oasis in the desert, and a smile widened, and she licked her lips. But rather than food or water on her mind, rest was what she yearned for.

“What’s in that sleeping bag?” She asked Chorizo, a helpful guide who had introduced her and her companion to the community when the two arrived. Minnow always felt a sour taste on her tongue when she spoke with others, and quietly cursed her feeble and soft voice which betrayed her every word. Chorizo, a man with chubby cheeks and a few tufts of hair above his head, who wore a sleeveless jacket made of blue duct tape and gray, baggy sweatpants didn’t mind nor comment on Minnow’s voice and instead answered her question.

“Oh, there’s just some extra pillows in there. You can help yourself to the pillows or blankets,” he smiled and gestured.

“May I sit on the pile?” She was less sleepy and more just needed a short reprieve.

“Sure. I don’t see why not.”

What a relief it was to hear such a thing.

Her smile widened only for it to fade upon wondering where her companion had gone.

Once I’ve taken a few minutes to sit, I’ll go look for Null, she resolved.

She sat down on the pile of blankets, some in tatters with holes in them, some striped pattern and stitched together. Others, thick, and fleece. All the same, they made for a nice cushion underneath her and she leaned forward, had her elbow on her knee, her head rested on her palm, and smiled.

“Mmf! Mmf!” Came muffled cries from somewhere nearby, breaking the contentment that made up Minnow’s face, and in its place was a small, open mouth as she looked around for what could have made that sound. It sounded like someone had a sock in their mouth, or was trying to scream, but someone else had held their mouth shut. It was pained, yet hidden away, and no one in the crowded room seemed to take notice or mind save for her.

The lights above, yellow and dizzying, only made matters worse. Whoever or whatever could have made those cries, those strained yells, wasn’t being acknowledged, and a nauseous feeling filled the air around her. Like all the oxygen was being sucked out of her and given to someone else, someone foreign.

Movement in the sleeping bag caught the corner of her eye, as two stiff, long shapes bobbed up and down.

What? Snakes? She wondered, and broke out into a cold sweat. That sweat was soon twisted into a hot jolt of liquid as her seat shook beneath her and she fell forward, her hands pressed against the cold and cracked tile floor. Above, the lights continued to be dizzying, but be it her tiredness or the dying of the bulb, it kept blinking out into seconds of darkness.

“Aargh! I thought I was going to die!” Yelled a hoarse, serene voice behind her. Arms shot up, palms spread, and all Minnow needed to do was identify the deep scar on her palm and those short, uneven nails, to tell who those arms belonged to.

“Null!” Joy, and a touch of worry, filled Minnow as the name escaped her lips.

Null’s arms bent and grabbed onto the pile of blankets, tossing them aside in the process.

When Null sat up, her face was red – almost as much as her sun-dried tomato colored hair, which happened to be even more of a mess than usual.

“If you’re going to sit on my face, could you at least wait until I’m awake?” Null rubbed her forehead with the bottom of her palm and gritted her teeth as she croaked out her complaint.

“Sorry! I didn’t know you were under there!” Minnow’s face was flushed as it was and she could only imagine the agony Null went through with her rude awakening. The tips of her coarse, chestnut hair began to frizz up and nerves in her cheek gave off little popping sparks.

Despite the distraught from her companion, Null remained dissatisfied and scrunched her face while shaking her head.

“I might end up with neck problems,” she groaned.

“No! Please don’t have neck problems!” Minnow choked back a sob.

Commotion was as usual in the large room, with everyone scattered about and talking with whoever would happen to listen. But Null couldn’t hear any of that – and instead, the air was still and silent. Her eyes widened, as she forgotten just how Minnow could be. True, Minnow wasn’t the most sensitive person, but when it came to Null and her wellness, Minnow could leak like a loose faucet.

“Hey, I’m fine, really!” Null backpedaled. She held her palm against her neck and gave a light squeeze. “See? Neck’s fine.”

“Please don’t choke yourself…”

“I’m not, I’m just showing you that my neck’s fine. I’m not mad at you, either.”

“You’re not?”

Null forced a smile.

“Not at all. I was just surprised, is all, and so I reacted the way I did. All I ask is that the next time you sit on my face, you do so when I’m awake, okay?”

“Ri-Right,” Minnow hiccuped. “Next time...I’ll sit on your face when you’re awake,” she smiled and wiped away a tear from her right eye. “Got it.”

“Good. Now,” Null’s forced smile shifted to a more natural, but bestial grin. “Unfortunately, I will have to punish you.”

“You will?”

Null nodded as she leaned forward, palms curled, and tickled the sides of Minnow’s stomach.

“Eep! Cheep!” Minnow let out a squeak and squirmed. “S-Stop!”

Every time Null’s hands brushed against the softness of Minnow’s skin, wherever it may be, she couldn’t help but want to touch more. Of course, she had to heed the words of her mistress.

In one swift motion, she wrapped her hands around Minnow’s waist and held her tight while giving several kisses across Minnow’s cheeks and neck.

“Ahaha! Null! There’s so many people around!” Minnow laughed, and her cheeks turned almost as red as Null’s hair.

“Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“I do like it, really. I just don’t want so many people to watch.”

“Mm. That’s a good point,” Null let go, crossed her arms, and nodded. “I’m already not a fan of crowds to begin with.”

“Mm-hmm,” Minnow knew very well.

“In that case…”

Null curled up and rested her head in Minnow’s lap.

“This is fine, right?” Null looked up and asked. She saw the hunger in Minnow’s eyes, the kind of hunger that said Null could have been Minnow’s next meal. If she were to be devoured by anyone, it would have to be Minnow.

“Yes,” Minnow said in a labored breath, “this is fine.”

Rather than resume a peaceful slumber, Null decided to test the waters. She ran her fingers across the valley that was Minnow’s thigh, starting the top and prancing her fingers in, then outward.

“Careful. You know how easily I get turned on,” Minnow warned.

Null stopped herself. She knew better, but she still had a habit of forgetting such a fact.

“Right. You turn into quite the beast.”

“Stop that. If others hear, they might get the wrong idea.”

“Guess we both need to be careful,” Null chuckled. “Hey, if we’re tired, wanna share the sleeping bag with me? We can rest our heads under the pile of blankets, too.”

“We should probably leave our heads out of the blankets. I don’t want a repeat of what happened to you.”

“Of course not. You’re the only one allowed to sit on my face.”

The two shimmied into the sleeping bag and fell asleep, their foreheads rested against each other. Not a soul woke them from their slumber, even as the communal dinner rolled around and everyone nearby shared bowls of soup.

#null void #minnow pond #ham #I havent written anything in a while due to struggling irl #but wanted to write something short and sweet #and not to mention its tiwa's birthday

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bluepenguinstories · 1 year ago

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(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 12

Meatstrip, a wrecked city where smoke constantly billowed out, demolished buildings and appliances strewn about, there remained wooden posts, still standing, with electric lines still connected, and still feeding the city.

The majority of the smoke came from the chimney of a skyscraper which stood in the middle: cracked, smashed windows, chipped paint, debris from the walls fallen to the ground below. Saying that it stood felt like damning with faint praise, yet it contained life within: one man, near the top of the tower, in a darkened room. There was a warm, sepia-toned light among all the darkness. Said man, known as Frou-Frou, sat in a reclining, puce colored leather chair next to the laptop which provided one of the sources of the light, warm glow.

Overhead, he had a series of monitors which displayed feeds of the various parts of his city. Cameras were installed among the sides of the buildings which remained standing. His city may not have many inhabitants, but those who did needed to be kept on close watch.

To help monitor in that endeavor, Frou-Frou had guard ‘dogs’: beasts which circled around the city, patrolling for any misbehavior. They resembled most closely black dogs, minus the fur, and in place of the fur were a series of horns spread out all across their skin. Their heads resembled closed flower petals with teeth that poked out from all sides. Hot air constantly blew out from the small gap at the tip of their heads.

Around the beast’s necks were silver shock collars, which constantly beeped red. Frou-Frou had a remote which, when pressed, would administer a burst of electric shock. There was a sliding dial which also controlled how much shock would be administered. Much of the time, however, he had the beasts tamed to the point where he could leave them to their own devices. They were also fitted with microphones which he used to command them. When he wanted them to attack an inhabitant of the city, all he had to do was issue the command. Those attacks only happened to those who broke the laws laid out by the city.

As long as everyone behaves, they have nothing to fear from my dogs, he thought while his hands were folded and his elbows were rested on the desk next to his laptop.

Such a thought, itself, was facetious. There were two virtues he tried to instill in every prospecting inhabitant: respect and fear.

Frou-Frou wore green and brown short-sleeved camo shirts, as well as the mud colored brown shorts. His arms and legs were large and muscular, with visible veins etched along them. His face was stern, his head large, forehead wide. He had long and stringy, matted white hair. Despite all the showers he took (not only did Meatstrip have electricity, but it also a functioning plumbing system. He didn’t know why more people weren’t eager to take refuge in his city).

At all times, Frou-Frou wore round, black sunglasses.

There was an indiscernible shape reflected in a few of the monitors in front of him. In the same instance, he felt an icy chill meet his broad shoulders as two hands with thin fingers held onto him.

“What do you want? For that matter, how did you get here?” He growled. If there was one thing he hated (among other things), it was intruders. Everyone was supposed to come in through the entrance and pass his test. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been a point to joining his city.

“I found my way here, carried by the wind,” the voice of the pale woman behind him started as a soft whisper before turning strained and throaty. It was like she was holding back a cough, but wished to hold a heavenly presence in spite of her condition.

She had long, flowing hair (yellow or white...hard to tell, but through the reflection from his monitor, that hair reminded him of a sunflower) and a long, white robe. She had thick, brown eyebrows, and pale, white lips. She carried with her an air of mournfulness despite not a hint of sadness to her voice.

“As for what I want, it’s simple: you. It appears that you are lonely and could use some company,” she continued.

Frou-Frou’s face tensed up.

“If I was lonely, I certainly wouldn’t want the company of someone who assumes how I feel. If you have no business, get out before I sic my dogs on you.”

“Oh? Do forgive me. I can be wrong. But I see some kindness in you, some loneliness. I do hope you will be merciful with me. I can be your lover if you want me to. I will be obedient, just like one of those beasts of yours.”

“Not interested.”

She frowned, but didn’t let go her grasp.

“You know what your problem is? I don’t need to assume,” her voice turned harsh, sharp, and loose spittle flew about. “what you lack is love. Both from and for others. But especially for yourself. It’s that lack of love that will be your downfall.”

“You don’t know me, OKAY?! What gives you the right to talk all this shit about me, huh?!” He roared, almost threw his laptop aside. All these accusations, and before he even had his breakfast. “I’ve been patient with you lady, but I won’t allow such disrespect!”

“Shh. Shh,” she whispered. It was more like a siren call than a soothing sound, “I can still prevent your downfall. But if you forsake it, you will die with your back turned to it.”

Frou-Frou drew a deep breath.

“I’ve heard rumors, both from former inhabitants and other people who passed by. They say there’s this shade of a woman. This angel of death. Or a banshee. Don’t tell me that person is you.”

She released her left hand from his shoulder and spread her arm out to her side, flexing her fingers along the way.

“I may have warned you, but that wasn’t my purpose for coming here. I go wherever the wind takes me,” her frown turned to a smile, “that is all. It’s rather funny, isn’t it? The things people say about others.”

“I know what kind of world we live in, all right? I have to be cautious about these things. You understand, don’t you? Hell, for all I know, you may not be a person at all. You might be a beast in disguise.”

“I would likely disappear before you had a chance to collar me, I’m afraid.”

He growled.

“What should I call you, anyway? I’ll have you know I don’t give this courtesy to most, especially not to those who would disrespect me.”

“My friends called me Mansfield. You can call me Mouse, if it pleases you.”

“It doesn’t please me. Nothing about you is pleasant.”

She leaned in, whispered in his ear:

“Je ne parle pas français.”

“I don’t speak french, lady.”

“Come now, don’t be like that. You sad, pathetic little boy,” she licked her lips and hissed.

That was the final straw for him. He pushed himself out of his chair and shoved her back.

So she’s not a ghost. She can be touched, he noted.

Mansfield scowled, her white lips turning red.

“How dare?! I come here, I offer you salvation, I offer you love, and you push me aside?!” She shouted, and along with it, stamped her foot. “I gave you a chance, but now, I am sure that you will die alone.”

“Dogs! Get this woman!” He shouted and the beasts who stood in obedience in the doorway leapt toward her, the petals of their heads opened up.

Before a single one could touch her, the image of her that was there faded and moved out toward the window overlooking the city. He felt a slight breeze, indicating a remnant of her presence.

Moments later, he sat back at his desk. There were no further signs of such a woman. He could have clasped his hands and prayed right there that she never return. He didn’t need such a bad omen in his life, especially when he had control of an entire city and several beasts at his beck and call.

Just to be safe, he checked the monitors. Every single one.

Not a trace. No movement of her could be found on any of the monitors. The only movement at all came from his pacing dogs.

Then, gurgling sounds bubbled up in the three dogs at his door. All three lowered their heads down and first, foam filled the outside of their petaled faces. Next, a black ooze, hot and sticky, spilled onto the floor.

“What the –?” He turned over. When he saw what they had thrown up, he grimaced. “Really? Now I gotta go clean this up.”

He stood up from his chair, stared at the three beasts in front of him, and pointed to the right.

“Get back in your cages! I’ll come get you when I’m ready!”

The three walked off into the hallway, their heads lowered in shame. He didn’t shock a single one of them, but the three reacted as if they had been shocked.

Once they were out of the way, he stepped out, making sure not to step in whatever mess the three dogs had thrown up. His destination? The bathroom, where a bucket and mop lay.

“God damn it,” he ranted, “I feed them plenty of meat. I give them space to do their business. There’s no reason for them to throw up in my presence!”

When he reached the bathroom, which was just down the hall and to his right, he also felt a churning feeling from his stomach. Like something had been rolling around and boiling within him. Then, it started making its way up.

He cupped his mouth with both hands and ran over to the sink, all detached and porcelain.

Once at the sink, he could no longer hold it in and that same black substance spilled from his mouth. He coughed it out and his ribs felt like they were twisting in knots as his chest heaved.

He stared up at the mirror overlooking the tile walls of the bathroom. He took off his glasses, set them next to the bar of soap, and stared into the mirror with his bloodshot eyes. It took everything he had to resist the urge to punch his mirror and shatter the glass.

“That fucking woman! She did this, I just know it!” He roared. He watched that steaming black clump run down the drain of his sink. He turned the dial on the sink and water ran down, washing away the odd bile. It clogged the drain at first, but soon the pressure broke apart the clump.

Frou-Frou huffed and wiped the spit and bile away from his lips. On his hand, he noticed little black blotches.

“The fuck...is this black mold?”

For the rest of the day, Frou-Frou tried to regain his cool and recover from whatever had found its way into him. His head was hot, he kept nodding off, but even while dizzy, he continued to sit at his position, monitoring, and waiting for the next future inhabitant to arrive.

Just outside the city, Mansfield landed along the highway. There was a stone next to the road, right on the edge of the forest that surrounded the highway.

“Haa...haa…” She huffed and dry heaved. It didn’t matter what abilities she had acquired if she was still the same frail, bony woman that first joined the church.

Mansfield knelt down next to the rock and coughed. Hacking away bloody spittle and the hard, violent coughs scratched away at her throat. For that matter, her neck itched and she scratched at it with her crooked nails. Tears began to run down her face.

“Sickness is a constant. Even if I live through it, I cannot erase this pain. It follows me,” she moaned out between coughs.

Every time she utilized her abilities, it took its toll and caused her a great discomfort. It wasn’t unheard of for her to cough out blood or have intense abdominal pain. Most of the time, she could float on by with only a dry cough. But when she made others ill, it was like her health was diminished as well. She only ever recovered just in time to inflict the illness onto another. Mansfield wasn’t even sure how far she could control her abilities, if at all. The thought alone brought her further to tears.

She met HD in a hospital room.

Always in a bed, Mansfield was, with no hope of salvation.

Her family’s fortune was the only thing keeping her there, and even then the funds were running dry. The doctors told her a while back that her condition was terminal. When they last told her, they let her return home, and just warned her not to overexert herself. As far as she was concerned, she never pushed her body very far. Always ate healthy. So why?

Never mind. Both she and the doctors were only biding their time. Waiting for her to keel over. She had accepted that, resigned herself to it, long ago.

“You have a visitor,” Hashish, a nurse in pink scrubs and short, brown hair, combed over, announced. He was well-built. A little bit of bulk, and a lot of chest. Just her type. Many times when he checked up on her, she imagined scenarios where the two were lovers. Where she cured him and the two lived on happily ever after.

“Who is it?” She croaked.

“She says she’s a third cousin of yours. Ms. Doolittle, she calls herself.”

Mansfield knew for a fact that she didn’t have any relatives with the last name of Doolittle. Nor anyone with a first name like that. She didn’t even know herself to have any third cousins.

Ah, but apathy or resignation got the better of her.

“Let her in. Please.”

Hashish walked away. She heard the commotion and beeps of the hospital from just outside her room. Some chatted away at their computers and talked about their weekend. Some complained of the rounds they had to do. That carefree attitude made her the most sick.

How many people die here each day? How many patients soil their beds? How much blood do the hospital staff see on a daily basis? How are they able to go on laughing with each other while aware of the human condition? She would ask herself.

That wasn’t even getting into the for-profit system she was forced under. No, ‘forced’ may not have been the right word. Her family did have quite the fortune, after all. She was by all accounts, more fortunate than most.

Her eyes flitted. With all the drugs they injected into her, she spent the day asleep more often than awake. That wasn’t even getting into the catheter or feeding tube. It was like she wasn’t allowed to sit up, not allowed to leave the confines of her bed.

One foot entered the room, its black heel tapped onto the tile floor.

She could have gasped were she not drained of energy. Still, she kept her eyes wide, forced herself to stay awake, even if she had to fight her own mind to do so.

Sauntered in was a figure, clad in a tuxedo and gray slacks, with black-heeled slippers. She danced and flitted about, one hand raised in the air at any given time. Such a figure reminded Mansfield of a fairy, or even a flamboyant angel.

In the end, is there a difference? She asked herself.

The heavenly woman pranced toward Mansfield’s bed and sat at the edge without ever once stopping to ask permission.

To hell with it, Mansfield thought, she doesn’t need permission.

“They say your condition is terminal,” the lady said to Mansfield. Her minty, chartreuse hair rolled up in a bun to give off an air of professionalism was even more captivating.

Mansfield remained silent, opting to instead be the captive audience.

“What you have is not cancer, but it has been linked to it. Did you know that they make vaccines for your condition nowadays?”

“Yes,” Mansfield croaked, “I just thought it was an old disease. Like polio. I thought it wouldn’t affect me.”

I can’t blame you for your ignorance, dear,” the beauty sighed and reached her hand out to stroke the short, thin hairs. Most of her hair was absent, radiated away. Although what she had was not cancer, her doctors advised chemotherapy as a precautionary measure. She wasn’t even sure if it helped.

“Y-You shouldn’t,” Mansfield moaned, “I don’t want to pass it on to you.”

“I would be honored to be infected by you.”

What a foolish statement, but why does it resonate so much with me? Mansfield wondered.

“Do you not fear death?” She asked the stranger.

“I fear many things. Death is but a facet of life, but whether or not I fear life is something not even I know. What about you, dear?”

“I do not fear death. I only fear that I will never again know love.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I am an ill, frail, pathetic woman. I will die alone, in this hospital bed.”

“Is that what you want?”

“What I want is to experience love again. But I already know that will not happen. Unless, you…”

The beauty shook her head.

“I’m afraid I find it easier to play cupid and shoot the arrow than I do to be on the receiving end. But that doesn’t mean you cannot find love again.”

Mansfield’s heart sank. She sucked up the air around the room and let out a heavy gasp. It made her wonder if she was suffocating this stranger.

“Do you want to live on? Would you like my help?”

“How?” Asked Mansfield.

“My former title was Dr. Doolittle. I have a medical background. My team and I can help treat you. I have a method which may cure you of your illness. Your family has already entrusted me to you. I only need your consent.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You can’t. I make no guarantees. But when your life is on the line, wouldn’t you rather take a risk than wait things out and die?”

It was a no brainer: yes, she signed her life to the strange beauty. Even after learning about the group she had joined and its machinations, her trust didn’t waver. Soon, she would learn that this strange beauty, who went by HD, planned to bring a godly being to earth. Later on, she would learn about the trumpets: the supposed salvation that may cure her of her illness.

Well, she lived. She walked. She found her ‘trumpet’ in an old, abandoned hospital. Long abandoned even before the calamity hit. Emaciated as usual, as frail and prone to coughs, she ran toward the object: an open silver case containing a lone syringe and a violet hued substance. There were no obvious signs that this syringe was what HD had dubbed a ‘trumpet’ other than a high-pitched hum, like tinnitus, that drew her toward that hospital.

There were beasts inside the hospital and they reached for her and tore at her clothes, scratched her up, bit at her and left gashes all around her skin which bled down to her legs. Strips of flesh hung down and with all of the beasts grabbing hold of her, she thought she would die before touching the so-called salvation. But at last, among the throes of death, she reached for the needle and jabbed it into her bare arm, pressing down and feeling an immediate, intense jolt of pain.

Blood leaked from out where the injection was made, and she was of two minds: that either she was too late for it to take effect or that she had been tricked by the beautiful, yet mysterious leader.

However, doubts soon washed away as horns blared throughout her mind and although her eyes were closed, she saw gold.

She convulsed, nearly passed out on the floor, yet somehow still conscious.

The beasts who had surrounded her backed away and started coughing. Blood leaked from their mouths, those little imps with a penchant for pain, and now they felt all of it.

They clawed away at themselves and tore their skin apart, some scratching deep enough to slice their necks open. For those who didn’t, black bile spilled from their mouths. They convulsed just as she did until they all fell, lifeless yet full of life.

An intense echo rang out across the sky, like several cherubs blowing trumpets. Yet when she stood, she couldn’t make out any sound at all.

It would be a while after that when she learned some of the effects of her newfound abilities. How, despite living on, perhaps endlessly, her sickness carried with her.

Still perched beside that rock outside of Frou-Frou’s city, she pressed her head down and sobbed.

“I want to put my head between someone’s breasts!” She wailed. “I want to bind someone to me!”

Those pleas went unanswered and her stomach tightened until she clutched it tight and fell back onto the cracked pavement of the highway. Soon, a breeze passed by, and she was carried off once more. The destination wasn’t up to her. She could only hope that she would eventually end up near someone who would love her and give their all to her.

Dawn broke.

Null and Minnow continued their travels through the woods. Hungry, dry mouthed, and prone to complain. In other words, their usual state.

“When’s the last time we saw a fruit tree?” Null asked. Her hair was matted and in knots. Minnow couldn’t say that her hair was much better. They managed to scrape by after their encounter with Granny, but ever since, sources of food and water have been scarce. That wasn’t even counting the beast. Nor was it counting Null’s other complaint which she was sure to get to in due time.

“It’s been days, Null. We’ve been stuck in this forest. Right now I’m just glad we’re both alive,” Minnow groaned while dragging her feet.

“Yeah, well, neither of us will be if we don’t get find food or water before long.”

“If only we were both fruit, then we could live off each other,” Minnow suggested.

Null couldn’t help but snicker.

“What? What’s so funny?” Minnow straightened her back and asked.

“Are you delirious?”

“I might be. I did just get over a cold.”

“Ah, jeez. Don’t remind me. How is it that you got sick right after me?”

“At least I had you to take care of me,” Minnow smiled and blinked several times. Null turned around, only to lean back in shock over the warmth that rested on Minnow’s face.

“It...it was no big deal. I mean, it was hard without blankets and food, but I at least managed to find a stream,” Null struggled to justify her actions. It was obvious, at least to her, why she would, but when facing Minnow, it just felt like everything became more difficult.

“Yes, and you let me rest in your lap,” Minnow continued to smile. She wasn’t in a particularly good mood, given the current state the two were in, but just remembering those moments were enough to fill her with small joy.

Null turned around, hung her head low.

“What else was I supposed to do? Better you get a good rest than me. Besides, you took care of me when I was sick. So now we’re even. Right?”

“Just admit it, Null: you care about me.”

“Of course. If I’m going to be traveling with someone, I wouldn’t want them to die in front of me. That should go without saying. I may not be a very good person, but that doesn’t mean I’m heartless.”

“How are you not a very good person?”

Null didn’t answer.

“Null?” Minnow asked. While Minnow didn’t know much, she knew that saying Null’s name was usually a surefire way to get a reaction from her, and she did love saying Null’s name.

Again, no answer.

Null, who had been staring straight down just a moment ago, was the first to see it through the bushes up ahead. Since she was a few paces ahead of Minnow, it gave her a slight advantage.

“Duck,” Null commanded.

“What?”

“Get down,” Null hissed.

While not understanding why, Minnow trusted Null’s judgment and squatted down in front of bushes up ahead, and Null did the same.

The two peeked up and saw an empty road.

“It’s the highway,” Null whispered. “There might be some abandoned cars, but we would also be in plain view of any beasts. I know I’m really dumb, but I still know it’s important to be cautious.”

“Why do you put yourself down?” Minnow whispered back.

“I need to in case no one else will.”

Minnow didn’t understand. Maybe Null was just as delirious as her. Still, she looked ahead, scanning her vision along the cracked road.

To her left, nothing.

“What if a beast comes up behind us while we’re looking out for them?” Minnow asked.

Null turned to Minnow without a hint of humor on her face.

“If it came to that...should I share a secret?”

Minnow grimaced. She didn’t know what kind of secret Null was asking to share, and also wasn’t sure what answer to give.

“You can, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I would get in front of you and fight that beast so you would be safe.”

Minnow’s heart sank, and she gulped up what felt like a peach pit. That was just the wrong answer.

“I can’t have you do that. You would die.”

“Much better me than you.”

“No!” Minnow’s voice cracked in protest. “I will not allow it! Your life belongs to me! If one of us lives, we should both live! If one of us dies, the other should die as well! I won’t let you die in vain!”

Null’s head drooped and she grimaced.

“Look...I know I’m something of a liar, so maybe you can’t take me at my word, but I won’t abandon you,” Null declared, while holding back tears. Admitting something so brutal, so early in the morning, was the worst of feelings, “I would rather you abandon me and live on.”

“I…” Minnow was sure she would have said, “I won’t abandon you, either,” but nothing more came out. Her head hung just as low. She couldn’t understand why she didn’t force out the same sentiment Null had.

No sign of beasts.

“Should we take a chance?” Null asked. I would like to stay back here where it’s at least safe for now, but knowing it won’t always be is just as awful. Even if I ask us to take a risk, could I really deliver?

“Yes,” Minnow agreed.

The two ran out in to the highway. To their right, they saw smoke fill the sky.

“Forest fire?” Null asked.

“I don’t think so,” Minnow shook her head, “look.”

She pointed in the direction and saw gray clouds in a blotted out sky.

“I think if it was fire, we would have smelled the fumes.”

Minnow said with confidence, yet she couldn’t be sure that there were no fumes. For all she knew, they might not have been close enough to where the source of the smoke was.

Then, the two saw in the distance the faint outline of a skyscraper. Gray, foggy, but still visible.

“What?” The two mouthed.

Null and Minnow looked at each other before saying what the two were thinking:

“Should we run over and investigate?”

That was the idea, but it didn’t take long for either to run out of breath. Despite running from beasts and finding the next place to hide on an almost daily basis to the point where being terrified became routine, the malnutrition left them low on energy.

“Haa...haa…” Both women squatted, hands on their knees, and tried to catch their breath.

Null turned to Minnow, letting out heavy breaths while doing so. Her expression was a worried one, eyebrows raised slightly, and her eyes moving rapidly.

“Maybe it’s better if we both walk there,” Minnow suggested, forcing a smile. “It’s will make less noise for the beasts that way, too.”

My beast bothers me even in silence, Null thought, but ultimately agreed with Minnow’s assessment.

So they walked along the road, checking for cracks as they did to so as not to trip. Even walking, they would sometimes have to stop and take breaks. Even when they stopped, they continued to look around at all times. In front of them, above, to the sides, and behind.

Still no sign of beasts. Neither could be sure why. It vexed them, even though it should have been a relief.

Soon, they approached the gate to a once-sprawling city in a dull, dark gray filter, and ruined buildings poking out from inside. The gate, with its chain link fence surrounding it and a shed door served as its entrance.

There was a scrap metal sign next to the shed door, held up by a wooden board nailed to the scrap metal. Written in a smeared red was:

‘Meatstrip

A safe haven from the beasts.

We have:

Electricity, running water, food.

All may enter so long as they can answer

the question inside.’

“Red ink? Or do you think it’s blood?” Null asked.

“I’m pretty sure it’s rust. Metal tends to do that after a while,” Minnow argued.

“How does someone write in rust?”

“Maybe by scraping away at the metal?”

“I think hearing that is scarier than if it were written in blood.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m used to blood at this point. But rust...that can give you lockjaw.”

“I’m sure coming in contact with another’s blood is sure to host its own bag of disease.”

“Yeah, but...when the blood is already old and dry?”

“Never mind that. How about we go inside?”

Minnow walked over to the door, not knowing what else to expect.

“Wait!” Null stopped Minnow.

“What?”

“There might be a trap inside. Even if there’s not, how is it a safe haven from the beasts? How is there electricity? Not to mention we don’t know how long ago this sign was made. It could already be abandoned by then. And if it is, that means the place will be crawling with beasts.”

“That may be true…” Minnow looked back to the door, “but even if there’s beasts inside, that could also mean more places for us to hide. That’s still good news, right?”

“I don’t know. I don’t.”

“Please, Null. Whatever happens inside, we can deal with it together, can’t we?” Minnow pursed her lips.

“Yeah. I guess.”

Null dragged her feet. No matter what words Minnow could use, it wouldn’t take away the dread Null had on her way to the door. It wasn’t something she could place but one idea came up:

A city? Can it really exist? And if it does, that means there’s some sense of civilization. I can’t. People are too much. They’ll see me, point their ideas of me at me. I’ll be unable to do anything but cower and fall to the ground, allowing them to beat their expectations on me until I’m a pulpy mess. Minnow is one person, but any more…

Nevertheless, she entered in after Minnow.

Inside was a darkened, but a faint, blue light. There was a tinted window on the other end, with a beige door which likely led into the city, or whatever was left of it.

Minnow tried for the door, only to find it was locked. She twisted it about, but it was no use.

Then, a buzzer rang out and vibrated above the door. Both women looked up and noticed speakers on both of the corners at the end of the wall.

They stood in awe, looking around as they did so.

On the sides where they had entered from were wooden crates stacked up. One end had two crates stacked up, the other hand three. They were closed, with no holes or gaps to tell what was in them.

“Hello, ladies,” a voice crackled in. It sounded gruff, but also hoarse and like the speaker was under the weather. “Are you ready to answer the question?”

“What question?” Minnow looked up and asked. Her face said ‘resolution’ as if she were ready for any question.

“The question so you can get in. I see there are two of you. Each one will have to state your own answer if you wish to proceed. Your answers can be the same for each other, or you can each have different answers, but you must both decide your answer for yourselves.”

Null, who had been trembling while Minnow failed to notice, spoke up, her voice shaky:

“Do we have to answer a question?”

“Of course not. If you don’t want entrance into Meatstrip, you can head back the way you came. But I don’t recommend it. You’re safe in here from the beasts than you are out there.”

“G-Good,” Null’s voice continued to shake while she appeared on the verge of a break down. “Can we at least stay in this shed place?”

“Sure. But without passage into the city, your only two options are risk dying outside from the beasts or dying in here of starvation. I don’t know when your last bite was, but the body can’t last that long without sustenance. I’d give the both of you about three days.”

Null turned her head from the speaker over to Minnow, who had still been staring up.

“I...I don’t like this guy. Let’s go back out in the forest. I’d rather deal with the beasts. At least I’m familiar with them.”

“We’ll be fine, Null. It’s a person inside. That’s already less dangerous than a beast."

It’s BECAUSE it’s a person, Null wanted to shout those words at Minnow, but they remained in her thoughts.

“Come on, ladies. I don’t have all day and I’m sure neither do you. Your friend’s right: it’s much safer in here than out there with the beasts.”

Null stared at Minnow, her face pleaded, but Minnow hadn’t turned her attention away from the speaker.

“Can we just try to answer the question? If we get it wrong, we can just turn back. At least we have this respite for now.”

“Fine. I guess.”

“It’s a simple question. Which would you rather be: respected or be feared?

“Neither. I don't want to impose on others, and I would like to treat others well even if they may not respect me, because they may be going through just as hard of a time as me,” was Minnow’s answer.

“You have to pick one,” Frou-Frou corrected. “Respected or feared.”

“Respected.”

“I'd go with feared,” Null answered. Still full of dread.

“Why? Do you want me to be afraid of you?”

“It's not that...”

“I'm not afraid of you, I think you're kind and I would like to help you.”

“Like I said, it's not that...it's just that I'm already afraid of everyone as it is and if others were afraid of me too, maybe I could be left alone.”

“Is that what you want? Me to leave you alone? Are you afraid of me? But why?” Minnow turned around at last. She too looked in distress.

“I mean...I am, but it's not because of you, it's because...I don't know, but I don't want you to leave me alone, I just mean generally. It would be nice to feel safe even if it means the only reason is because everyone else is avoiding me."

“But wouldn't you want to be respected? If you're respected, people could accept you for who you are and could be patient with you. I think if people respected you, you wouldn't be as afraid of them.”

“You may not know this, but respect means different things to different people...”

“You don't have to tell me that, Null! I already know,” Minnow scowled and stamped her foot.

“S-sorry!”

“It's okay, I just want you to know that I respect you,” her face returned to a smile, even if it soon washed away to the same disconcerted look.

“But in what way? What does respect mean to you?”

“Do you doubt me? I'll try to prove it for you and keep doing my best and I hope you respect me too.”

“It's not a matter of...wanting to be disrespectful...I don't know.”

“Come on, ladies. Just pick an answer,” the voice on the other end, belonging to Frou-Frou, demanded.

“Respect,” Minnow repeated.

“Fear,” Null also stuck to her first answer.

“Very good, ladies. Come on in,” the speaker crackled before cutting out. The lock on the door clicked open.

Before entering, both Null and Minnow looked at each other, with the same worried expression.

I want you to know that even thought I’m afraid of you, I want to respect you. Even though I don’t want to be afraid of you and that I do, I still like you, Null wished to say.

Was I wrong to say what I did? Should I have changed my answer? But what was the right answer? It’s true that I want Null and I to respect each other. But in what way? And do I already respect her? Do I even know what ‘respect’ should mean? What what Minnow asked herself.

Neither of them said those things aloud.

#(anxious) mouse vertigo #fiction #fantasy #horror #drama #writing #frou-frou #null void #minnow pond

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