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grim-faux · 3 years ago

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2 _ 9 _ Survivors Follow the Wake

First

One of the child’s more favorable habits was disappearing for long stints of time, particularly when they came to a new residence he was not familiar with. Before he could search around and take stock of dangers and hiding spots, or other schemes for getting out of sight in an instant. They had always been excellent with being imperceptible, but not so much running. Though as of late, the child expressed a knack for agility he was not accustomed to.

Not that the Thin Man would test that skill, but after relocating, the child did seem to soothe. He was not prone to stay stationary in one lone room for a period of time, because the child was stubborn and they’d hit another stalemate. When he departed to evade that quiet staring (he almost missed the child being underfoot), he’d accumulate some reading materials; none of it was preference, it was whatever survived the test of time and the onslaught of storm invasion.

The child was in one of those moods, so he made certain to keep attention for something special. It took some searching and loose luck, but he located a kind of protein meat bar that children adored. He did, anyway, but they were virtually nonexistent in most areas lost to the elements.

One room of the residence had a perfectly fine table, but he made the effort to get his long legs off the floor and prevent the child from c̸̢̘̘͒̕͜l̴̨̛̽͌i̸̢̳̭͕̍m̴̳͚̩̕͠b̴̜͊̉̿̚͜i̵̧̇n̴͚̫͆g̸̟̞̐ a bridge. The current ploy was test if resistance made the boy more resolute in his defiance, and idly suggest off-hand ‘don’t’ rather outright say. His saving grace was that the recliner had functioning footrest, even if it felt ridiculous.

Though the child’s scarcity prevented him from testing the full potential of the arrangement, he much preferred his charge entertain himself for a time. He’s not concerned the boy has gone elsewhere, he is somewhere in the building having an explore. For the child’s sake, being cautious and not getting stranded in some location, he was not settled back on rooting the boy out of a danger if he was careless.

Something smacked against the side of the chair, and the Thin Man leaned a little over. The item that must’ve doubted its capacity for flight, once again sailed through the air and landed on the seat beside him.

Why did he do this? If it wasn’t food, then it was random items he found. That bit of meat bar was still on the table.

The Thin Man plucked out the small toy, right as the boy managed to hoist himself up onto the arm of the chair. He used the lever of the recliner as a brace to boost up. Noted.

“Duck.”

“Is it?” He’s a little surprised the child didn’t dart away when he reached for him. Usually that worked. It sufficed all the same to pluck him up and replace him to the floor, on the opposite side of the lever. “For me?” He held the toy up and examined it.

“Not. N’duck.” The voice roved from one side of the recliner to the other, dipping beneath the footrest. “Th’z duck.”

“Looks like a plain, boring bird.” He set the bird toy on the arm of the chair, and let it fall to the floor. The child was nearly at the summit of his climb, but when the toy dropped to the floor, so did he.

“S’duck. Th’t berd.”

This time he caught the toy when it catapulted over the armrest and palmed it. When the child clambered up, he looked around. “Where?”

The Thin Man shrugged. “You threw it too hard. It might’ve flown off.” The child bounded across his lap. “C̵̹̺̮̰̐͋͝h̷͕̔̏̎i̸̡̦̇͆͠ͅl̶̨̙̫͇͑̈̚͝ḑ̷̳͛̏̌͜.̶̨̢̟̣̀͆̿͋.̷̺̺̏̐͒̽.̶̞̇͊̒.̵̖̄̋”

“N’t same.” The boy peered over the other side of the recliner, searching. “To-ee. Th’s kid. N’to-ehn. Toy. Say t’no—” The Thin Man took the child and set him on the floor. Of all the good that would do.

“You two have a lot in common.” While the child did his little lap, the Thin Man waited on the other side. When the child reappeared, he handed off the duck.

“Not. T’Snatcher.” He held the duck aloft. “Want n’take. Snatcher. S’there, n’tuhn hurt. T’ez kids, no. T’en danger, n’come. Th-th’n— Santcher n’take.” He hugged the duck toy. “Ne-Ver t’see—”

“Well, how fortunate for him then.”

The child tossed aside the duck. “Ba-for. T’n th’z… cay-ges.” He tried to form a box between his two hands, it was hard because he was shaking. “Than n'broke. Lots. Crash. Kid!” He picked up a few pieces of timber off the carpet and snapped them. Crouched, he tossed them, then flung his hands down.

“Buil-Ding down. Boosh. Ever-ee’ting down. Crash.”

“You have a habit of doing that, yes.” The child waved his arms up at him, and internally he sighed.

“No-eeze maker. Noi’sy child crumb'd… e’brok'N. Screm.”

The Thin Man rubbed a hand over his eyes. “That is very gruesome.” He didn’t need to hear about dead children. The boy was here now, and that was all that mattered. “As long as they didn’t break you. Now listen, please. I need some quiet for a time. Can you let me have that?” He had to pry the boy loose before he could start climbing again. “Five minutes?”

“T’ere n’blod—”

“Five minutes,” he pleaded. “Go find me another toy, and you can tell me a story about that.” The child held onto his hand, and the Thin Man was trying to wriggle loose.

“Stor-ee?”

“Yes. You know that speek. Sto-ree. Story.” With his free hand, he tugged the child away by his collar. It was far easier than expected, but a welcomed change. “I will listen to you then. But not now, I’m not in the mood.” The boy appeared very perplexed, but plucked his hat back a bit.

“Mih-nuts.”

“Yes.” Carefully, he spun the child around and pushed him along. “Or, check that there are no dangers out in the corridor. It’s your turn, isn’t it? You are so good at finding what I have missed.”

“Yuh b’safe?”

“Yes. But you are cautious and quick.” The lift was jammed and the staircase no longer traversable, it would be safe. And he suspected the boy was already exploring the rooms, otherwise, no toy duck. “I look forward to your recount.” After a bit more persuasion, the child began moving on his own accord. He glanced back a few times, before disappearing out the doorway. Gone.

The Thin Man slouched in the recliner, feeling not comfortable at all. He snapped his legs down, forcing the mechanism in the footrest to snap and collapse. Thankfully, this didn’t drag on the child’s curiosity.

Left to his own whims, the Thin Man pried down his hat and tried to appreciate this freshly established serenity. The creaks of the walls, the faint whittle of the transmission in the background of his thoughts. He could scarcely get a second away from the child when the boy set his mind to it. How was he to manage one lone minute?

However, surprise of all surprises the child managed to keep on his own. This sort of repose was dearly missed, but the Thin Man had yet to determine how to preoccupy the child – save for shoving some edible thing into his mouth. In the past he provided toys, but those all went rejected utterly. And as before, the boy seemed offended by the prospect. Though, the child held no qualms with fiddling with some odd top or a shoe, while they ventured through remedial scouts. He always dreaded crossing paths with vacant lodgings filled with such treasures; even if some forefront toy didn’t captivate the boy, there was something he had to search out.

And then try to offer up to him.

After flipping through his second catalog, the Thin Man does become suspicious to the boys whereabouts. He didn’t anticipate securing this much time, but the dreaded though that the little one became misplaced did rear its ugly head.

In a distorted ripple, the Thin Man is on his feet and transitioning to the doorway in rapid flashes. If not emerging completely, he anticipated a peek or some sound, any form of indication of presence. This was unlike the child, and he hated unexpected surprises. Those that involved the child usually involved disaster.

The Thin Man straightened up from the portal and first went to the nearest spare rooms, each cluttered with broken furniture and stacked with suitcases. Enough room remained after neglect, allowing him to pace through the rooms without shifting through a teleport. He did tread with caution, in the event the child materialized out of thin air.

The boy was here somewhere, this he could feel. However, the Thin Man hadn't arrived near enough to pinpoint a specific location. He was not in these rooms.

Next, the Thin Man ventured into one of the two main rooms. His expectations were higher for the cluttered rooms, being there was plenty of nooks and spaces for the child to curl up into and would only be accessible to children. Nonetheless, when he examined over the open room he paced into, he did locate the child with ease.

The boy was in the shadows of a tipped sofa seat hugging a hat his chest, eyes on the Thin Man. The child didn’t move or blink, even when the Thin Man closed in and knelt.

“Hello Mono. Why hide?” The child was motionless and silent for a long moment, before he allowed a shrug.

“Min’ts,” he uttered. “Min-nuns.”

“Min-nutes.”

The child mumbled something, and nibbled on the edge of his hat. “S’mint. Nus. N’mil-ez. Mies. L’s. N’miles? N’miles? T’em long?” He looked at the Thin Man.

“No. A mile is much longer than a minute. How can you not know this?” The child blinked, utterly lost. “Never mind. Why don’t you come here?” He set his hands down. The unyielding stare persisted without depth or sound. “Child.” The boy lowered his hat and rubbed at the frayed edge.

“S… mit’ns gone?”

“Yesss. It has been many-many minutes. Won’t you come out?” This was becoming tiresome. The child set his hat beside his toes and rubbed some dirt or gunk off the surface.

“Rr… y’happy?”

“I… suppose.” He flipped his hands shut, fully devoted to leave this drama where it was. But the child did emerge from beneath the sofa, and for lack of a better word, attacked his wrist. The Thin Man raised his arm, with the child dangling from his cufflink. “Is that necessary?” The boy nodded.

“Caught.”

The Thin Man shook his arm. “And what will you do with me?”

“Keep.” The boy was trying to hoist himself up but didn’t have the leverage.

“Oh dear. Whatever shall I do.” He anticipated vicious resistance when he gripped the child around his middle, but once his fingers latched firmly, Mono popped loose. When after a few seconds the Thin Man failed to set him down, Mono began squirming and prying at his fingers.

“Leggo.”

He smirked. “I choose to decline the demand. You’ve been a nuisance for quite some while, and now, it is my turn to annoy you.” The child tried to kick at his wrist, but his posture did not allow for retaliation. In this he was limited to fussing and crinkling his nose, but it wasn’t the panic he was cautious to provoking. It was adorable how trusting the child was.

“L’t down.”

“No.”

Mono snagged his cufflink and tugged, trying to haul himself loose. “Down.”

Naturally, he wasn’t going to be cruel about this game. “All right, all right. Don’t fret.” He cupped the boy between his palms and cradled him to his chest. The best he could suffice for a hug. He sensed Mono needed that now. “I’ll let you resume your very important business in short.” Mono wriggled against his hold, but after applying some gentle caresses to the little back, he did calm. A nearly imperceptible hum crooned from the boy, and he pressed against his coat.

“T… n’left. Shal-dunt. Should-dn’t. Th’y rr’gone.”

“Hush, Mono.” The child whined a little and shook. “Have you been resting? Sleep?” Thy boy muttered an incoherent string of syllables.

“Huan-t. N’ey.” He sniffled. “N’they remem-ber’d.”

The Thin Man shushed the child, and peered toward the windows allowing abstract vapor through the dreary space. “It’s all right. All that is gone. Have a rest now.” He carefully stood and began pacing the floor over, keeping his touch light on the child. The boy snuggled down, but tremors continued to work through his form. With each idle lap of the room, the ferocity began to melt away minute-by-minute. At long last, the child was steady and still, the breathing shallow.

After a brief hesitation, the Thin Man shifted the child in his hands and checked. Mono was indisputably out, eyes shut and fingers locked into the knit of his suit.

“I’m going to put you down now.” The boy slept on. That didn’t take too long.

In an easy stride, the Thin Man returned to one of the furniture rooms packed with shadows and hiding spaces. He selected a discarded shirt and went to a cabinet pinned in the back of the cluttered chamber. The shirt was wadded up and stuffed into the collapsed bottom of the cupboard, forming a plush little nest. It was not a difficult matter to untangle the boy from the thread of his coat and lay him on the liner within. However, when he tried to withdraw his arm, a lone hand clung. He succeeded in prying the grasp loose, but a switch is flipped and suddenly Mono is up and alert.

He sighed through the static. “Sleep, child. You need it. I won’t be far.” At great risk, the Thin Man patted the boy on his head. Thankfully, the child remained too stupefied by his nap too react. Swiftly shutting the cabinet, he flashed out, departing before Mono collected his wits.

Within the cupboard, Mono rocked out of the folds of the shirt and peered through the little crease of lesser dark. The entire room was gloomy, though he could still work his way out or in. When the crackle and buzz of the figure faded, he remained crouched by the door tuned as the whirring in his bristling bones dissolved.

Mono crept into the splintered backside of the cabinet and drew his knees up. He set his chin on one knee and watched the faint blade peering at him through the black. On the other side all held silent, nothing was searching through cabinets rooting for an intruder. No creature would expect him to be hidden in this isolated, baron space.

“M’ents. Min-ets. Mine-uts,” he uttered, to no one.

The Thin Man had such a big speek. So much like his, but so much big. So much. So same, but not. So much more. He was not… the greatest learner. Picking up snippets about tuning was there among his mental checklist of abilities to do better at, though the chances for stop and try didn’t come often. Much of his attention was preoccupied with the immediate surroundings, and the lull to sit and be-still remained a rarity yet.

“Fort-un-ate. Booook. At-las. Ray-zoom. Sah-vahg. Arkt-tist--tist- kit.”

A lot of the Thin Man’s speek he didn’t grasp well. It was so much, the way he made his voice carry. He could pick out patches of familiar sounds, the speek he made with his friends. The speek he shared with Her. And more speek he wanted. Sometimes the Thin Man liked to talk to Mono, and Mono liked the varying warble of his tone. He listened, and tried to repeat the sounds. Though many lacked meaning and placement, sometimes the only way to do better was to listen carefully.

“Brr-at. Diss-am-gree-umble. Puh-leaz.” He rested his cheek upon a knee, but kept one eye on the pale crease of light. “A'shaa-aim. In-deer-eeng. Un-comp’or-table. Silly.” He sighed, and became silent for a short time.

A corridor lay open before him. A haunting and familiar corridor. The walls resonated through him, despite knowing this place and what lay ahead. He’s struck with a new awareness, of coming and being in this space altogether. He is here and he knows where this place must be - a despairing and terrible building. The haze of memory obscures the distance; he’s not bodily present. He cannot proceed, sit, stand, let alone wait. It feels so real, an exact replicate of how he remembered. Just like way back when, in a time where he needed to see the end of the hall.

#little nightmares #little nightmares fanfic #little nightmares fanfiction #mono #the thin man #thin dad #the man in the hat #end of the hall #the tall thin man #fanfiction #fanfic #mono working on linguistic

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