#anxious mouse vertigo

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 7

Dusk.

Moonlight shone down upon the forest floor and illuminated what might have otherwise wished to remain hidden.

Minnow was no exception.

Her eyes were fixed on the ground below:

Trees were shaded in a pale blue manner, with the leaves, usually brown or green, appearing more turquoise. Whenever she thought she heard the trees rustling, her eyes darted around for signs of a beast, or any animal, for that matter, to appear. It was always the wind.

She laid flat on her stomach, with only the upper half of her head poking out. By any chance, if a beast appeared and saw her eyes peering down, she could pull away and press herself against the cave wall for safety.

By any chance...was there a chance at all?

If a person could climb up into the cave, what was stopping a beast from doing the same? Some beasts were able to climb by latching onto the rocks with their claws, or sticking to the hard surfaces. Others could fly in. Then there were ones which were so big that they didn’t need to concern themselves with getting in and could just grab whoever was foolish enough to seek refuge in the cave.

Minnow was one such fool.

Someone who would grow complacent upon finding some semblance of comfort, and was now paying the price.

She backed away from the scenery below and clutched the purple and yellow striped blanket against her as she sat against the cave wall.

It didn’t take long for her curiosity to betray her, and against all other judgment, she peered down. Again, no beast. No animal. No person, redheaded or otherwise.

Minnow pulled herself away again and stared at the other end; there was no one across from her.

Just a few minutes ago, she had woken up to see a nightmare come true: Null, nowhere to be found.

Minnow recounted what had transpired earlier in the day and how not a word was spoken on the night before. Null helped Minnow pick fruit, and Minnow found a stream where she bottled up some water. They found no other supplies aside from that, and soon returned to the cave which became their hideout. Neither of them were foolish enough to believe that they could stay there forever.

Each step of the trek to and from the cave when the two walked together, Null looked over her shoulder. It only made sense, after all, as the two knew to be vigilant at all times. Daylight helped to identify things in the distance. It was a bright day and the forest shimmered a golden, radiant glow. Still, the rain from the night before left the soil soft and damp. With each step, an imprint of their soles were made.

Did Null seem tense earlier? Minnow wondered, but found the question ridiculous in of itself; when wasn’t Null tense?

No. Minnow couldn’t sense anything about Null that was different from usual. In fact, they had a pleasant chat over how they managed to find fresh water, and they shared sips from the canteen together. Sure, they didn’t have very substantial meals, but it wasn’t like they went without eating at all.

Null does look like skin and bones, Minnow observed. It’s clear she needs actual meals and not just a few apples a day. It’s not like I’m getting full meals, either, but there’s no helping it when we don’t have the resources to prepare better meals for each other.

Minnow’s thoughts continued, and as they did, she began to curl up tighter in her blanket and hold the sides of her head together:

Maybe she left while I was asleep because she got tired of being around me. It’s true that she survived on her own for over a year. Maybe I’ve been holding her back. Or maybe it’s the opposite...maybe she thought that because I too have survived for a year on my own, that I would be fine without her.

Minnow clutched the blanket tighter and began to weep.

“But I’m not fine without her…” She muttered. “Please return to me.”

She laughed to herself in silence, the foolish maiden.

“Of course. I should have known, shouldn’t I? It must not have even been two weeks since we met. That is not enough time to form a meaningful connection, is it? Even an oath, that her life belonged to me, would be so frail under the weight of such a short amount of time.”

To Minnow’s right, the back of the cave illuminated. She saw a faint, white glow, and small circular particles dancing about in the air. Before her, the back of the cave could be seen, and she saw that it revealed the end of the cave, and how if she were to lay flat on her stomach and crawl back a few paces, the tips of her toes would have touched the cold, gray stone at the end.

At first, relief watched over her as she saw no beasts at the end of the stone hole she had called a cave. That relief soon faded, as the small bright particles joined together and formed the image of a white dress, followed by the flowing locks of Minnow’s brown hair.

The figure floated towards her and was translucent. Minnow thought, is this a beast? Or a ghost? Before the figure stood next to the trembling young woman and held her hand down to Minnow’s chin. Sensing no hostility from the figure, Minnow looked up and saw nothing disturbing other than the fact that the face was her own. Somehow, it was more comforting than anything. But, it wasn’t the figure which disturbed her, but what sounds came out when the bright figure opened its hollow mouth and uttered a sharp, high-pitched and syrupy laugh, followed by venomous words:

“Quick to jump to conclusions, are you, girl?”

The figure’s nails, stroked along Minnow’s chin. Although she felt nothing from the gesture, it still sickened her.

Still, the figure, the ‘other’ Minnow, continued:

“You don’t know how long Miss Null has been gone for, do you? Yet here you are, quick to blame yourself. It may have only been a few minutes.”

“You’re right. I’m overreacting,” Minnow wanted to say, but her mouth wouldn’t open, and no sounds came out. It was like the other her had her under a spell.

“Then again…” The figure’s mouth widened to an open-mouthed grin. Minnow couldn’t spot any teeth, yet she thought for a second that there was a single sparkling glint. “Null may be dead. Her corpse could be nearby. In the morning, you may walk down and stumble upon it. Stumble upon ‘her’. I wonder what she may look like…”

“Shut up,” was what she wanted to say, but only managed a fizzled out hiss. “Ssss.”

The figure pulled its hand away and faded off into the back of the cave, where it was no longer illuminated. The moon, just outside, still gave light to the immediate vicinity. Minnow, however, no longer wished to see it.

Silence broke when a wailing scream from nearby erupted and the leaves from the trees rustled.

To be more clear…

It was about 30 minutes ago when Null stirred from her slumber in a jolting shiver. Her vision was still hazy, and despite the moonlight, the darkness was overpowering. She clutched her sides and curled up tight as she felt a sharp chill upon her groin. A desperate urge overcame her, but she wished, more than anything, not to move.

She crossed her legs and fidgeted about. Across from her, she saw the vague shape of Minnow, with the blanket held over her.

She looks so peaceful. I wish I could be at peace, even just once, she thought.

Worse, she saw the outline of Minnow’s thick, wavy brown hair. Null, for a moment, forgot about her predicament and reached toward her hair, only to realize what she was doing in her tired haze and reeled her hand away.

What was I about to do? Was I about to stroke her hair? How horrible of me. What if she were to see that? First of all, I didn’t get her permission, and second of all, I’d be violating someone. Even if she were okay with it, she’s far too beautiful, and I’m...just me. I really don’t deserve to be near her, she agonized.

As if in a trance, she crawled toward the cave entrance.

It should be fine to head down real quick and relieve myself. I just have to be quiet enough not to wake Minnow. She deserves her rest. Someone beautiful like that…

Null shook her head while climbing down. Those persistent thoughts wouldn’t go away even when Null rationalized to herself that they were only brought on by her tired delusions.

She landed on the soft grass with a crinkling sound. Looking up at the cave, there was no way to know whether or not that noise could have woken up her companion. Not unless Minnow were to crawl over and peek down. For at least a minute, Null stared up, paralyzed with the thought of Minnow peeking down. But she never did.

“I need to be quick. The last thing I need is her worrying over me,” Null whispered before walking to her left with the most careful steps she could muster; one foot in front of the other, heel first, then tip.

While walking, she looked around for a convenient spot, like a bush or even a thick enough tree to crouch behind. The location was important, as again, if Minnow were to peek down, she would have seen something most unpleasant. Null shuddered at the very thought of anyone watching her while she took care of business.

No matter where she looked, she didn’t see anything resembling bushes, and the trees were much too thin, as well. It was like the world had cursed her for waking up despite her never wanting to wake up in the first place.

At last, she found a spot far from the cave, though still along the cliffside – a tall clump of shrubbery with tall, sharp leaves. She leaped over and the back of her dark blue skinny jeans snagged against one of the prickled leaves. Her amazement of being able to jump over such a thing never had a chance to surface as she ended up too focused on pulling the sharp leaf out of the back of her jeans.

Without thinking, she grabbed one of the leaves and brushed her finger against one of the sharp edges and hissed out, “ow!”

Her slime unzipped the sleeve of her shirt and poked part of itself out. Null, startled, leaped back and in the process pulled herself free.

Her heart took sudden swift leaps. Rather than fear, her face turned to a scowl.

“I’m fine,” Null scolded her slime, “I just accidentally poked myself against that bush.”

The slime bobbed about, then retreated into her sleeve.

Uttering a sigh of relief, Null crouched down beside the shrubbery and slid her indigo colored skinny jeans down from her waist.

It took a moment to release, as the shivering made it difficult. That, coupled with the idea of a beast sneaking up on her while she tried to go really worked up her already overworked heart.

“Why does the darkness have to be so horrible?” She bemoaned and tried to close her eyes. The forest was silent, no rustling of any sort. She didn’t know how to handle that.

But before long, it began to trickle down.

She took soft breaths of relief and continued releasing the breaths while the stream continued. At last, when it slowed to a couple drops, she opened her eyes. Half-expecting a beast to jump out at her, she startled herself and landed in the shrubbery. Thorny leaves poked through her clothes. She pulled herself off but not without a few pained hisses.

After pulling her jeans back up, she wiped her forehead.

“Mission success,” she sighed out.

Before she walked back, the slime unzipped the sleeve of her shirt and transformed into a red, long blade which stretched the length of her arm.

“What are you doing?!” She stared at her right arm in shock. “There’s no reason for that! We’re heading back, anyway, and you had your fill the other day, didn’t you?”

The slime didn’t listen or retreat. It also didn’t pull her forward like it used to. Null would have considered that an improvement, but the fact that it was out at all concerned her.

Leaves rustled, and a gust of wind erupted as the sound of panting grew heavier and heavier until leaping into the air was a lion-like beast bathed in shadow with swollen, bulbous eyes and sharp clawed legs. In place of a mane was a mesmerizing whirlpool of black hair which spun about like a turbine.

It pounced upon Null and knocked her against the stone wall that made up the cliff side. She landed with a thud, and with her right arm in front of her face, the slime blade blocked the beast’s mouth from gnawing upon her.

She, along with the slime which had control of her right arm, pushed back and the beast’s mouth flung upward. Null grunted, and gave an upward strike against the beast’s chin. However, with one paw, it swiped her arm away.

Her eyes widened in astonishment, but she swung her arm back against the paw and sliced it off. In the same moment, she pulled herself out from the beast’s grasp and rolled away.

When she stood, the beast as well stood on its hind legs while the blood from its paw leaked out.

“Why?! What is it with you beasts? Why can I never find peace?!” She yelled. For a moment, she forgot all about how terrifying it was to be so close to such things.

Taking two steps back, the beast turned its head and a thin, long tongue slipped out from its mouth and licked against its wound where the paw once was. The beast twitched as the sound of cracking bones poured out. Null saw strips of the beast’s flesh turn thin and strip itself away. Exposed bone peeked through and it no longer seemed to pay its wound any mind.

It ran toward Null with staggered steps and swayed about. It swiped its left paw at Null, which the slime-blade blocked within an instant. While blocked, the beast reached its head down and bit into Null’s left shoulder, tearing off some of the fabric of her uniform, as well as her flesh.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA –!” Null held her head high and let out a piercing shriek whose cries echoed throughout the area.

From her left shoulder, she bled out, and tears filled her eyes.

This is just like back then. The whole reason I’m stuck with this parasite on my arm in the first place.

“Why? Why?!” She wailed as she sliced up on the beast’s other paw whose claws had previously kept her at a standstill.

The beast tried chomping away, but never got a chance to get close to her as she continued to hack and advance on the beast. While the beast continued to take steps back and bite at her, she slashed off teeth and made several small cuts against the beast’s leathery frame.

Not even when the beast kicked upward and its clawed paw cut across her own face did Null falter.

The entire time, her heart raced and she sobbed in both pain and misery, but in a hazy trance, couldn’t stop striking away, and pushed herself against the very beast she would rather not confront.

She plunged the blade right into the beast’s chest, and with the strength of the slime, managed to knock it down.

As the slime sapped away at whatever blood remained in the beast’s system, Null continued to sob a panting series of laments.

“Why? Why my shoulder? Why this pain? All I wanted to do was take a piss! We could have avoided all of this...if...if only,” her voice trembled and she felt the beast deflate beneath her until it became nothing more than scraps of skin and bones.

Trembling, she stood up, hunched. As soon as she did so, she felt the throbbing pain of the wound inflicted on her shoulder. The scratch on her cheek was nothing by comparison, but her shoulder…

...She watched the blood trickle down. She wondered, am I going to die?

Null turned lightheaded as she shambled her way back in the direction of the cave. No other beasts followed and all she could focus on was the pain. The throbbing was on her shoulder, she knew that, yet she swore she felt it throughout her whole body. Worse, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Likewise, the tears wouldn’t stop running down her face, along with snot running down her nose. A sour taste rose in her mouth and she felt like she was going vomit.

The slime on her arm didn’t retreat at first, but tried extending itself to her left shoulder. She held her hand out, despite how much it hurt to bend her arm, and blocked the slime.

“You want to stop the bleeding? Or feast on me?” She asked, weary, and in a nasally voice. “But I’m sorry. I can’t do that. Not this time. I need to get back to Minnow, and you’re a beast. We were never meant to cooperate.”

The slime lowered itself down and retreated back into her sleeve.

I was never meant to live, was I? She wondered, as she met the cliff side where the small cavern rested. As she looked up, almost fell back upon seeing the watchful eyes of a familiar face.

Oh no. On top of the fact that I may be dying, I’m going to be in trouble, she gulped.

“Null!” Minnow cried out, full of worry.

Please, don’t worry about me. I’m not worth it, she wished to tell Minnow. As some sort of reassurance or self-pity, she didn’t know, but her bet would have been on the latter, even if her intention was the former.

“I’ll be up soon!” She called back, her voice strained.

She climbed up bit by bit, finding imprints in the rocks to help her up. Her head was still light and blood ran down her arm and she felt the slick trickle underneath her sleeve. Worse, each time she reached up, she felt like her arm would rip itself off and she would fall to her death. Another possibility entered her mind where she imagined herself so lightheaded that she fell into a slumber and let go, falling to her death. The third possibility was that one of the rocks broke off the cliff and she lost her grip...again, falling to her death.

All three of those worries filled her with dread, even if she was certain that she would die one way or another. That dread made her want to run away from the cliff the only way she knew how: by climbing up and hiding in the cave.

Once near the top, one of her worries seemed to come to pass: The rock she rested her left foot on cracked and fell off.

“Eep!” She squeaked, and tried to scramble her leg about and find a new place for footing. The whole while, the static that filled her head and made her dizzy returned to her.

I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying –

“Null! Reach for me!” Minnow begged as she held her arms down.

Am I really going to do this? If I do, I might drag her down with me, and then we’ll both fall, she considered the very real possibility, yet went ahead and reached for Minnow with her right arm.

Minnow grunted as she pulled Null up. Null tried to pull herself up as well, and though that the strength the slime provided her right arm would make things easier, but she wondered if she was doing anything at all or if it was all Minnow, in her desperation.

Minnow...is surprisingly strong, Null thought before being pulled up and the two of them landed back in the cave.

As the two huffed out heavy breaths in unison, Minnow turned her head to Null.

“Are you alright?” She asked her companion.

“I’m Null,” said the companion, “I’m never alright.”

That was when Minnow noticed the bloodied up shoulder and let out a gasp.

Null didn’t have to look to know what Minnow saw. She knew it would become apparent what state she was in, and it was a state she wished Minnow didn’t have to see. Once again, Null broke out into tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Null sobbed, “I didn’t want to wake you. I just had to pee. I wasn’t thinking.”

“What happened?” Minnow asked, even though she could already take a guess.

Null crawled to the cavern wall where Minnow usually rested. She sat above the blanket, not even paying it any mind, and pressed her back against the smooth stone.

“I was careless...I was attacked by a beast...it got me. It bit me,” she sobbed, at times hiccuping between words. “I managed to run back here, but...I think I’m going to die.”

Minnow, at first having a morose smile, shook her head and any hint of joy faded from her face.

“No. You won’t,” Minnow argued.

“It hurts. I’m sorry, but it won’t stop,” Null said.

Minnow reached into her backpack which rested near the end of the cave and pulled out a cloth towel as well as a roll of bandages.

Next to the backpack was a thermos with water which Null and Minnow had previously shared. She poured a drop onto the cloth and turned her attention back to Null who was hissing and nodding off.

“Stay with me, Null,” Minnow begged.

“I’m fading,” Null wheezed.

“I know. But you haven’t faded away. This is going to sting, so I’m sorry,” Minnow warned before slapping the wet cloth onto Null’s shoulder and pressing down upon it. The cloth filled almost right away with a reddish-brown hue.

“Aaa...Aaa…” She wailed. “It hurts!”

Null thrashed her legs about.

“I know, sweetie. I know. Breathe for me,” Minnow pleaded.

Null, unsure why, did as she was told and let out brisk breaths.

“I’m going to die,” she huffed in between hissing in pain.

“You’re not going to die,” Minnow argued. “Not with me here. Remember, I have your life.”

“I am. I really am,” Null insisted, and tried to break into a shaky smile, “at least when I go, you’ll be rid of me.”

That put a scowl on Minnow’s face, even when her sole task remained the same.

“Do you really think I want to be alone?” Minnow asked.

“I don’t know,” Null answered, weak, in almost a whisper.

As Minnow kept her palm pressed upon the cloth, her hand soaked with Null’s blood. That, to her, was proof that her work was not done.

Reaching out with her other arm, she grabbed the roll of bandages. She released her palm and began wrapping the bandages over the cloth and around Null’s shoulder. She was able to lift Null’s left arm without so much as a protest or resistance, and although Minnow wished Null’s arm was bare so that Minnow could trace her finger across Null’s soft skin (or what she imagined to be soft skin), she focused on keeping pressure on the wound and stopping the bleeding.

“Hah...Hah…” Null breathed heavily, as the pain continued to sting and throb. Her vision was blurred and she had her eyes almost closed, except open enough to see Minnow in front of her.

“Your moans are so cute,” Minnow said with her usual soft voice.

“That’s so cruel of you to say to someone who’s in pain,” Null said in turn.

“Sorry. I just couldn’t help but say so. You have such a lovely voice.”

“No, I don’t.”

Minnow wrapped the bandages around tighter and Null began to grunt and howl.

“Ow! Ow! It hurts! Oh, it hurts so bad!” Null wailed.

“I know, sweetie. It hurts right now, but it will feel better,” Minnow reassured and placed her other palm over Null’s forehead and stroked her hair.

Why am I letting her do this to me? Her strokes are so soft, it’s hard to resist, but...I would have never been comfortable with this. Is it just because I’m powerless in this state? Have I reduced myself to a state of ‘just let it happen’ because I may be dying? Null wondered, both perplexed and repulsed at herself when earlier she resisted doing the very same thing to Minnow.

At last, the bandage was tight enough, and she tucked the last of the bandages in and sealed it.

Minnow noticed that the bleeding had stopped and she heaved out a sigh of relief.

“Do you...do you think I’ll live?” Null asked.

“I don’t know. But if you don’t, then I will stay with you until you go,” Minnow vowed.

Null still couldn’t bring herself to smile, but all the tears she had dried out and only left her with a headache in its place.

“Minnow. What is proper love supposed to look like?” Null asked after a brief pause, as she recalled the conversation from the other night.

Minnow chuckled and shook her head.

“I don’t really know. I’m just pretty sure I know what it isn’t,” she admitted.

“I think I would like to experience it before I die,” Null said.

“All the more reason to live, then, huh? Maybe we can both figure it out together.”

“I don’t...I don’t know.”

Exhaustion began to set in and Minnow leaned in closer.

“Do you mind if I lay my head on your chest tonight?” Minnow asked.

“Okay, but just tonight,” Null said.

Minnow brought part of the blanket out from under them and spread it over as she rested her head against Null’s chest.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Is there anything that you should avoid doing with the clone beans? Like how you can’t feed a Gremlin after midnight?

Also, are there things that beans universally love? Like a type of food or anything like that?

Aside from stealing them?

Hm, I'd say respect any and all boundaries/rules any of the troopers immediately stipulate if they entrust their Bean to someone other than another clone. As more animated extensions of their being, the Beans often have quirks that reflect their trooper. So if their trooper isn't overly fond of something, their Bean will have a more extreme reaction to it.

Example: Rex doesn't like heights, Rex Bean hates heights so much that seeing anyone near a ledge will cause him vertigo and he will become extremely anxious (Ahsoka found this out the hard way when she climbed up the rafters on the training room, and immediately had to come down because Rex Bean started wailing in a puddle of his own tears out of sheer stress).

There's also the fact some Beans do go outside of their trooper's parameters because they're emotional outlets. So their behavior is a little more hard to predict. That said, no trooper is foolish enough to leave someone with their Bean unprepared!

Example: Dogma very rarely entrusts his Bean to anyone that isn't Tup, but if he really has no other choice he will also entrust them with a datapad full of puzzle games to keep Dogma Bean occupied (otherwise the little guy will run off and proceed to inconvenience anyone that he thinks has been unpleasant to Dogma in the last 24 hours). He also says that if a mouse droid comes looking for him, to let the lil fella go with them.

As for something the Beans universally love...

Well I'd say the only thing the clones all unanimously love is to be in each other's company. They are very social and really don't like being alone. In fact, for a Clone Bean to want to be alone takes something quite extreme, such as the loss of their trooper or their conversion into a Vestige. Although the latter is less so by choice and more a result of Vestiges being so disconnected from the world around them.

The only outlier is Coh, who not only seems to ground himself by continuing to remain by Cody's side despite not having as strong a connection as he used to before the commander got reconned, but also actively tries to engage with other Beans in play and other social activities (failing miserably at it since he freaks them out considerably).

[tiwuwu]

16th of October

This story is canon. (maybe not all of it tho).

It takes place in the world of AMV (Anxious Mouse Vertigo), where Eglantine and Evelynn share a life in a decayed world, constantly on the fear of meeting overwhelming beasts.

Eglantine and Eve lived the past week in some wood cabin left by bushcrafters, surrounded by pine woods, on the uphill. Eve went outside early in the morning to do some recon around the place. Her abilities helped her well for those kinds of missions, thanks to her shadowy friend, a sort of demon living in her own shadow. She never really knew how she made contact with such a weird living form, but it looked fine so far. The shadow was friendly, so far, and saved Eglantine and her life multiple times by taking the form of some shadow cloak, making them nearly invisible in the shadowy places, like during the night, or in the forests. While in their early life together, Eve had the habit of saying that she went off to recon to her beloved one. But with time, it became such an usual task, that sometimes she forgot to. 

Eglantine, while Eve was away, took the habit of preparing the meal for lunch, with some plants, mushrooms, berries she foraged here and there. If luck struck, they often found some old creatures, called game back in the day, that they could hunt for some proteins. But since the beasts appeared quite a while ago, they finished by roam in the woods, and most of the game disappeared. Eglantine was such a good cook that mushroom soups, infusions or berry jelly was more than enough as a yummy meal (or yummeal as Eve liked to call it).

But today was a different day. Eve recon’s task was being a bit harder, because of the hill being quite harsh to climb on. Not a hard task for Eve, but it transformed what a 30-40 minutes task was supposed to be, into a complete hour and some more minutes. On the other hand, Eglantine didn’t start to prepare a meal. Today was the 16th of October. Eglantine knew it from the bottom of her heart (and also because she kept track of the date after quitting civilization). “October the 16th, what a sweet date !” Eglantine exclaimed ! She started to grab some old books. Funny enough, all their titles were a mix of some letters. HO, RF, AMV, that last one was unfinished, and Eglantine used it as a personal diary, writing her adventures (and misadventures) with her loved one. It wasn’t really a personal diary, as Eglantine liked to romance stuff, and make it look softer, cuter and more epic (especially when it was about Eve, strangely !). But the most important was the author of these books. It was her preferred author. By far !

Eglantine knew this was the birthday of the author. And so she decided to make a sort of altar dedicated to that author. “Oh dear Lady Pip, wherever you are, I hope my prayers will reach you out. Today is a special day and I hope you’ll find joy, happiness and have a good day. Amen.” Amen. That last word. Eglantine started to say it quite often after reading the RF book, Remora’s Full. Her favorite character in that story, her favorite one, was called Astraea, and always ended her sentences with that same word. As the story went on, that character had a rough life, and Eglantine only wished she could have protected her. But in the end, that character ended up with her best friend, Tigershark, and lived the rest of her life in happiness. That really melted Eglantine’s heart, and she was happy to see her favorite character ending up happy, with those she likes.

After praying for her favorite author, Eglantine started to cook. Even if it was her birthday, it was important to her to make a cake. But she had nothing to make a cake. She started to brainstorm a bit, and after a few minutes, she decided to use the leftovers to do something fancy ! She grabbed the rest of the berry jelly, melted it to soften it, and placed it in a wood bowl she carved a few days ago. After cooling down, she then added some mushroom soup as topping. It wasn’t looking really good, but it resembled a cake. She then grabbed a few branches that would serve to light a bonfire to heat them outside, and planted them on the cake to light them as if they were candles. 

At the same time, Evelynn arrived : 

“I spotted nothing around, but heard some beast fighting noises far away in the south… wait, what did you do to this place ?!”

“Today is the birthday of my favorite author, and so I had to celebrate it. Amen.” answered Eglantine.

“Oh yeah, I forgot that it was today… You sure keep track of the date ! Now, where’s my meal ! Doing some climbing made me dead hungry !”

“I made a cake out of the leftovers we had. Today is jelly cake with mushroom soup topping !” exclaimed Eglantine.

“Oooh, I hope it’ll be yummy !”

“But first, the candles !”

They then lit the branches with another branch from the chimney of the cabin. A few seconds passed, and the wild wind blew the candles, turning the top of them to ashes.

“Oh ! She surely heard my prayings and blew out the candles ! It makes me so happy !”

Eve couldn’t resist petting her loved one for the hard work she did this morning.

“Now, the cake !” said the hungry Eve.

They shared their meal and… 

“Oh… it isn’t really a yummeal…” Eve looked disappointed. “But it still feels good to eat something !” She then devoured her part of the cake to please her cute girlfriend. In the end, they both had stomach ache, we must admit that it wasn’t the best mix of food to do.

But today was a special day, and no matter what, it was a pleasant and sweet day.

Happy Birthday my love.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 5: “Country Mouse, City Mouse”

Petey Oliver lived with her sister in a two room apartment. If she got her way, it would have been one room. After all, why not? They had been inseparable since birth. There was no particular reason: she didn’t feel overly dependent on others because of bad parenting, and in fact, both sisters would agree that their parents were good people. Mother only had kind words, and father was soft-spoken, even at times, looking back, Petey wouldn’t have blamed him if he snapped. Their parents gave equal attention to both sibling, never wanting the other to be left out, and even helped save up for the two to attend the same local university.

So it was only natural that Petey would always be with her sister. For the rest of her life, if she could.

Lately, however, Millie Oliver had been restless.

Yes, until the end of time, her and Petey would be there for each other. Or at least, in some sense. But that didn’t mean that Petey had to be present at all times. Some days, she wanted to take a walk in the park by herself, or go grocery shopping without wondering if her sister would hug her in the middle of the aisle and get stares from the other customers. More than that, Millie wanted friends.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends in high school, or that the two sisters would have their fair share of friends while at university. But once the two graduated, with separate degrees, in fact (Bachelors of Architecture for Millie, Bachelors of Music for Petey), one found a lucrative job planning blueprints for houses, the other tried to start a rock band with the few friends she made at university, and although they performed a few songs in a rented-out storage space, they never found success and those friends all went their separate ways. Petey was out of work, and after a panic attack one night, refused to leave the home. Millie canceled plans with her friends. Eventually, she lost touch with them.

Sometimes, someone at work would ask her out, be it a hangout, or perhaps something more romantic. She declined every time, as when not at work, she was home with Petey to make sure her little sister was okay.

What Petey did at home, when Millie wasn’t around, was try to eat leftover food that Millie made the two, and write song lyrics for songs she would never make in her journal. She’d even give them fancy titles. Petey journaled a lot, and in some ways, she thought of her journal as her third sister, who was there even when Millie couldn’t be there.

One journal entry went like this:

7th of December:

I have little peace these days. I know I shouldn’t be this attached to my sister, and yet I am. Some would call it courage, others insane. I don’t feel that way, about either. I am full of fear, and very sane. If there ever was a time when my sister didn’t live with me anymore, I don’t know what I’d do. My world may as well shatter. She pays the bills, she pays for all the food. I know all this time she’s devoting to me, it’s love, but what if someone else loves her and decides to take her away from me? Could I even fight back? Look at me: I don’t have a job, and all I try to do is write song lyrics that don’t go anywhere. Stuff like:

‘Little Police Academy For Shriveled Fetuses’:

“Cracks in my brain, it’s the rats again

they’ve carved their shapes into my walls.

The walls move, and talk to me

and I never wanted them to.

It’s like.

It’s like...a curse, the curse of the rat imprints.

Some day,

I fear,

they will find their way inside my body

and carve their shapes into me.”

Yeah. That’s about as far as I got. I couldn’t think of any more words. I wonder, if she was here right now, could she inspire me?

Millie never read from Petey’s journal. Even as she wished to respect her sister’s privacy, Millie was having trouble respecting her own. Even at crucial moments, she instinctively declined. She swore to herself that she would change that habit.

Petey found a job, delivering pizza on a motorcycle. It was during the break between graduating high school and entering university that Millie and Petey learned to drive. However, it came to no use, as Millie had the car. Once, Petey used Millie’s car, to run some errands, when she thought she saw the shadow of a person in the backseat and braked the car hard in the middle of the intersection. She almost got hit, and when she looked behind her, she expected to see a man pop out with ill intentions, but there was no one. Because it was always no one when it wasn’t her sister.

So riding a motorcycle all day, with husky wheels and screeching tires gave her a rush that she didn’t feel at home unless she was thinking about her sister. She got to think of other things besides her sister, and there were no images of shadows chasing her, or rats staring at her from across the street to freak her out. She had her helmet and a pair of earplugs while she rode the motorcycle.

A few months of pizza delivery and Petey could afford to buy a nice looking motorbike with its thin, blue shell and memory foam seats. Not to mention the thin, ribbed tires which enticed her when she spun them around at the dealership. She rode on her days off, in the middle of the day, and let the winds brush past her. She felt freedom, or as free as she wanted to be. Whens he carried it up the second floor of her apartment complex and hung it up by a string on the roof of the back patio, she felt an aching yearning for the wind and the road.

One day, Millie meets a boy with blonde hair at work, a newbie. His name was Zircon Myers, and he and Millie soon formed a habit sitting with each other at lunch and talking about their lives. Millie was self-conscious, as she thought she had little to share. But the more Zircon talked, the more she wanted to share.

A few months of lunch breaks and Millie, Sara, Tiphereth, and Zircon laughed from stories they told each other. One day, Zircon took Millie aside and asked her for a date. A night out, to be specific, at an expensive restaurant, which he refused to name. That he did so sounded mysterious, seductive, to Millie, and so she accepted: under the condition that Petey come along as well. With a smile, Zircon accepted.

Before the date, Millie told Petey about the good news.

“I’m going on a date with a young man, and you’re invited. It’s going to be at a fancy restaurant, and you can order whatever you like!” Millie greeted when she got through the door.

Petey looked up, as she was doing yoga, in her underwear, with a tube of nail polish on her mouth (the cap on) while playing video games next to the television set mounted on the wall. Upon hearing her sister’s words, Petey’s jaw dropped and the nail polish dropped to the floor, the lid coming loose and spilling on Petey’s ankle. Tears began to well up in Petey’s eyes.

“You’re leaving me? For a man?” Petey asked, sobbing.

“No, not at all. I just wanted to see how it goes on a date with him.”

“So you’re not moving in with him? Or kicking me out of the apartment?” Petey tilted her head. It made Millie flinch.

“No, I don’t think so. For either,” Millie said slowly.

Petey lifted her shirt up and smudged it all over her eyes until they were red, but also, there were no longer any tears. Her face shook and wobbled, and she felt like she could enter a crying fit at any moment, but still, she managed to smile.

“Thank you, I would love to go with you two,” she said in the best cheerful voice she could muster. Their parents always said her voice sounded more like dry cement being drilled away. It was meant as a light joke, but if truth must be told, Petey never liked it much.

“I love you,” Petey said, as her smile, however distorted, stayed on her face.

“I love you, too,” Millie sighed out those sweet words.

 On the afternoon of the date, a thin, long black car rolled up with its roaring engine and screeched to a halt outside Petey and Millie’s apartment complex. The sisters heard the sound from inside and gathered their things. Millie ran down the stairs first, and at one point, almost tripped. Petey wanted to reach out to her sister, but before she could, Millie stood up just fine and continued running until she got in the back of the car. Petey had her journal in her leather jacket pocket. Even if she wasn’t on her motorcycle, if she closed her eyes while in the car, she could imagine…

...imagine a crash.

It was unusual for her to bring her journal outside with her, but there was some tugging sensation in the back of her mind which insisted that she do so. As much as she tried to resist the pull, it wouldn’t let go until she picked up that bumpy, scaly leather bound cover.

Millie also had a jacket on. It wasn’t leather, however. Polyester, if Millie were to guess (she was always too careless to read the tags on her clothes. They could have all read ‘arsenic and asbestos’ for all she knew, and as long as she lived in ignorant bliss, she never needed to know. Just like Petey’s jacket, though, it was black, and long. It matched well with Millie’s murky, brown skinny jeans.

When Petey reached the bottom of the steps and walked toward the car, she heard dogs barking nearby. There was a park which she used to visit when she was younger, but didn’t dare anymore. Further out, she heard ambulance sirens.

Petey sat in the backseat, Millie in the passenger side, right next to Zircon. It was so foreign for Millie to sit anywhere except for beside Petey. It was like someone took her precious sister and replaced her with a stranger who also happened to look the same as Millie, and share the same name. Petey wanted to ask Millie whether she was really her sister or some cruel mockery, but was interrupted by the date.

“Hi, I’m Zircon,” he glanced back and reached out his hand.

Petey examined Zircon’s hand, rather than shake it. She couldn’t see anything wrong, and it looked like a clean enough hand, with contours and creases where they ought to have been. But even still, she imagined all the bacteria which must have taken residence on his hand. Little germs and microbes floating about, anchored by every pore on his skin.

What if he’s the type to wipe his nose with his hand when he has a runny nose? What if he had a runny nose today?

Just the thought made Petey recoil and let out a pig-like squeal.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Zircon apologized, “you don’t have to shake hands. I was just trying to be polite.”

“Don’t mind her,” Millie slapped Zircon’s forearm in a playful manner, “she’s not good with new people. She used to be better, but I don’t know what happened…”

“Millie. Please stop talking,” Petey requested in a harsh tone which sickened her to hear coming out of her own mouth.

“Ah, sorry. I meant no offense,” Millie waved her hands about.

Zircon started the car and began to drive through the neighborhood. They hadn’t even entered the main road yet when Petey leaned over in her seat and saw from the front-facing window a dog leap into the road ahead.

“STOP THE CAR! STOP!” She yelled.

Zircon slammed on the breaks without question.

Everyone leaned forward in their seats.

“What is it?” Millie turned back and asked.

“We were about to run over that dog!” Petey pointed.

Both people upfront looked forward.

“What dog?” They asked in unison.

“Um…” Petey blinked, and saw no dog. “I...this isn’t good. Am I hallucinating? Now, of all times?”

“Now, now, sister, maybe there was a dog and we didn’t notice, and before we could notice, the dog ran into the bushes,” Millie tried to explain in the most plausible manner she could muster. It still didn’t help. If there really had been a dog in front of the car, surely everyone else would see it as well.

“If it helps, you can close your eyes until we get there,” Zircon suggested.

He thinks I’m crazy, too, Petey thought, but nodded along.

She wasn’t new to hallucinations, as every now and then, she thought she saw giant rats staring up at her, or shadows chasing her, or even hums in the air which drove her to agitation. None of those events occurred when her sister was present, so Petey believed that Millie was the anchor that kept Petey in reality.

However, if that dog was one such hallucination, and Millie was with her, what did that mean?

Maybe it’s because of that man. The outside factor.

Still, she tried to do her best. If need be, she’d write in her journal. She tried to close her eyes, as if doing so would prevent any sort of interference, even if some auditory oddities may have still snuck their way in.

Somehow, Petey fell asleep.

When she woke up, the car was parked in front of a restaurant. Millie had to tap Petey awake.

“Hey, sis, we’re here,” Millie whispered and smiled.

Petey opened her eyes and wiped her mouth, noticing that she had drooled in her sleep.

When all three left the car, Petey looked up and saw that the restaurant was Toaster Oven – a diner at the edge of the city, and a popular hangout which happened to constantly be packed. The exterior looked like a steel microphone lying on its side. It also resembled, well, a toaster.

There was a car in every spot in the parking lot. That was the last thing Petey noticed before the three entered the restaurant.

“Nice place,” Millie tried complimenting Zircon’s date choice.

Really? It’s hardly a fancy restaurant. My sister deserves so much better than, what? Waffles? Petey thought in bitterness.

Nearly every seat was taken, just like the parking spots Petey noticed outside. Petey always did think there were too many cars in the world, and too few motorcycles.

Three seats weren’t taken: stools at the counter. It was as if destiny called to all three of them. Petey sat at the leftmost booth, Zircon in the middle (acting as the wall dividing the two sisters) and Millie on the right end.

While Petey mulled over what to order, Zircon fixed his attention on Petey’s sister. Or at least, someone who shared her voice, face, and name.

Petey ignored most of their conversation. She focused, instead, on the crowds of people conversing and eating. All these moving bodies in what amounted to a tin can.

And I’m no different. Even if I’m not talking or moving, I’m still one of those bodies. We’re all packed in here.

When the waitress came over, all three ordered: Millie, a steak and mashed potatoes.

Zircon, a plate of biscuits and gravy with green beans on the side.

Petey, a plate of french toast, sausage, and scrambled eggs.

After ordering, the two on their date resumed their conversation while Petey continued to stew in her silence.

Millie, or whoever this woman was, seemed to be having a good time. I couldn’t interrupt that, even if I was with them. I just have to accept...accept that I may soon be alone. What should I do? I’ve had my job for a little while now. It doesn’t pay much, but it must prove that I can be independent in some way, right?

Maybe I could start a new band. We could write songs. Find somewhere to record. Land some gigs. Maybe my life could start to look up…

...if I too could bring myself to meet people.

Maybe I could write my own songs, solo. Like, I could get a computer, record some songs onto my computer, mix it there. It doesn’t even need words. It could be wholly electronic. What songs could I do? Even if they lacked lyrics, songs need titles. Maybe something like…

“Foot fetishists want me to put my best foot forward,” she said aloud without even thinking. Both Zircon and Millie turned toward her.

“Huh?” Zircon asked.

Startled, Petey leaped in her seat and blood rushed to her head.

“I...I...It’s the title for a song I just made up,” Petey rushed to defend herself.

“Oh, and here I thought you were quite the comedian,” Zircon joked.

“Are you thinking about making music again, sister?” Millie leaned over and asked.

“Again?” Zircon asked before Petey could get a word in.

“Yeah, she used to be in a band, but started having panic attacks and quit the band,” Millie began to explain while Petey dug her nails into her arms and clenched her jaws.

“I was entertaining the idea,” Petey groaned. “Doesn’t mean anything will happen. Right now my job is enough.”

“If your job gets to be too much for you, you could try going on disability checks,” Millie suggested.

The very thought made Petey feel like worms were wriggling across her skin.

“I. Do not. Have. Any. Disabilities,” Petey growled. Her nails dug deeper, leaving imprints, but still not deep enough to make herself bleed.

“Well, what about the panic attacks or –”

“Shut up! Those are nothing!” Petey shouted and tears began to form in her eyes.

Faces around the diner turned to her, and Petey looked back at them, and in terror, wanted to shout at them, “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!”

But she couldn’t. She had already done enough damage.

She just focused on her food, and tried to eat what little she could, even though her hands shook when she lifted her fork, and a draft filled the air which left her in a dizzying shiver.

All three ate their meals without another word to each other. When Zircon footed the bill and the three walked out, there was a palpable intensity to the air both in and outside of the restaurant.

---

Null and Minnow wandered through the forest in the middle of the afternoon. Some sunlight poked through the gaps between branches and leaves of the trees. Their previous hideout had been found by beasts, and they were forced to hide out elsewhere, then flee once the beasts moved on. They were now in search of somewhere new to hide.

However, their sluggish steps may have given off the impression that they were in no hurry, despite the danger both women knew themselves to be in. That too had an explanation: they were also in search of food. Having gone at least a couple of days with little to no sustenance.

They dragged their feet along the dry and dusty forest floor, examining each tree, hoping one would bear fruit, and be disappointed when one of three scenarios occurred: 1) there was no fruit 2) the fruit was unidentifiable to the two women, and thus could have been poisonous or 3) the fruit was rotten.

“I bet I sound real creepy right now,” Null groaned in a hoarse voice. “I feel like a zombie.”

“You’re just hungry. I’m hungry too,” Minnow reassured Null.

“I wish I had a granola bar right now…”

“You survived over a year, right? How have you gotten by before?” Minnow asked.

“I would loot snacks from abandoned convenience stores,” Null explained, then felt a tinge of regret, “I mean, it’s not really stealing if there’s no one alive to make me pay for it, right?”

“Right,” Minnow agreed, “besides, you needed to make sure you lived. I would have done the same.”

“Well, what about you? How did you get by?”

“I’d pick fruits from trees, I’d loot left behind backpacks,” Minnow explained, and thought, I’d loot corpses.

“Right...I’d do the same if we came across a backpack or something right now,” Null bobbed her head. Her stomach growled. Every time she exhaled, it felt like she had swallowed glass, “I want apples. I want pastries.”

“If I could summon apples and pastries from the sky right now, I would,” Minnow groaned.

“Could you? Oh, but imagine if an apple hit me in the face and my head was crushed and splattered into a bloody mess...maybe it’s better that you can’t.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want to damage your pretty face.”

Null spat, even with her dry mouth, she still found it in her to react.

“Now’s not the time for jokes. We’re going to die of starvation out here,” Null shifted her eyes about and thought, if a beast doesn’t get us first.

“Just a little longer. We’ve survived this long. I’m sure we can survive longer,” Minnow tried to encourage Null, or even herself.

Both women were used to starving at various points throughout their lives for different reasons. That didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

It was about an hour later when an oasis of sorts opened up: a small pond of water, and a few pear trees which overlooked it.

“It’s not apples, but…” Minnow stared at the fruits.

“I’m so hungry that if I had to wait any longer, I’d have considered cannibalism,” Null groaned, still slouched, and turned to look at Minnow.

“I would let you eat me if it meant you would live longer,” Minnow smiled.

“Please say you’re not serious. You deserve to live more than I do.”

“On the contrary,” Minnow shook her head, “I already have your life, and I can tell just by holding it how valuable it is. If anything, you deserve to live just as much as, if not more than, me.”

“Uh...right,” Null was too exhausted to think of the logistics of that statement. She leaped up and grabbed a pear. She sank her jaw into the juicy, soft fruit. However, the thought of something lurking within the fruit caused her to spit some of it out.

“What? Is it rotten?” Minnow pursed her lip with worry.

“N-No. I just started thinking, what if a worm was in it? And then I got scared,” Null admitted.

“So? Was there one?”

Null shook her head.

“B-But...that doesn’t mean there won’t be a worm if you eat one.”

“I’m willing to take that risk.”

Minnow tried jumping up to catch a pear, but just couldn’t reach any. She grunted, and began shaking the tree, but none of the pears would budge.

“Come on…” Minnow pouted.

Null watched Minnow struggle, took another bite, then closed her eyes and smiled.

However, when she opened her eyes and saw Minnow continue to struggle, she gulped down a chunk of pear and her face flushed.

I’m going to let her starve if I don’t do anything, and then it will be my fault if she dies. I don’t want that on my hands, Null thought.

She walked over to the tree Minnow stood at and plucked a pear off of one of the branches. While looking away from the headstrong brunette by her side, she handed her the pear.

“Thanks,” Minnow mumbled, “I would have gotten it eventually, but...yeah, thanks.”

“Oh. If that’s the case, I could have just let you be,” Null jolted back upon the realization that maybe her assistance wasn’t really needed.

“No, I mean, I’d like to think I would have gotten it eventually, but...I don’t really know for sure. So, again, thanks. You really are kind, Null.”

“I just…” Null paced about, huffed, and bit into her pear, “I’m not kind at all. I just don’t want to walk around and look behind me to see you drop dead. It would be really inconvenient.”

“So is it convenient for you that I’m alive? I was worried I had been slowing you down,” Minnow sat down next to the tree and looked up.

What can I say that wouldn’t come off as mean? Because truly, there’s nothing that I could consider ‘convenient’ when it comes to me, Null thought.

“I mean, loneliness isn’t very convenient, either, so...maybe I’m a little slower, so what?” Null let out some nervous laughter, and joined Minnow under the tree.

Minnow smiled.

“I’m glad. I was lonely, too, before you came into my life.”

“Right. It’s hard not to be lonely when the majority of humanity has been wiped out,” Null agreed.

Minnow took a bite from her pear, then added, “even when there were billions of people, it was quite lonely.”

I know that all too well, Null thought, but I can’t just say that, can I?

Null nodded along.

Before the two could get too comfortable, they both heard a shrill howl erupt from the woods. In a hurry, Null swatted as many pears as she could onto the ground and Minnow packed them into her backpack.

Some of this strength may be the beast on my arm aiding me. After all, was I ever strong enough to knock fruit out of a tree? Null wondered.

They hurried, but didn’t run, so as not to make too much noise. When they returned to the main path they were on, their worries of what their next meal would be was diminished, but one worry still remained: whether they would find a place to hide before a beast appeared, and especially before nightfall.

“Hey, since there’s still a handful of people left in the world, do you think there are other animals, too?” Null asked.

“Hmm...I can’t see why not,” Minnow pondered that. She hadn’t encountered any animal other than human, unless the beasts counted. But she wasn’t even sure if they should.

“Maybe we’ll come across monkeys,” Null suggested.

“Did you see monkeys before the calamity?”

“No. Well, yes. Sometimes. At the zoo. I used to go there when I was little. I had some relatives who would take me.”

“So it seems unlikely that we’d come across a monkey,” Minnow dismissed the idea just as soon as she had considered it.

“Well, maybe the animals at the zoo left their enclosures? Maybe we’ll come across a rhinoceros or an elephant.”

“If any animals did leave the zoo, they may not have survived long against the beasts,” Minnow pointed out.

“What about the scary animals? Like lions, tigers, or bears?”

“Bears already existed in the woods pre-calamity, and I haven’t encountered a single bear out here. It’s beasts all the way down.”

“That’s sure to disrupt the ecosystem,” Null felt a tinge of sympathy for all the other animals that may no longer be around.

“I think we’re well past the ecosystem being disrupted.”

After a brief bout of silence, Null continued from where she left off:

“I’d like to see a giraffe,” she said.

Minnow didn’t reply.

“What about you, Minnow? What animal would you like to see?”

“Null,” was all Minnow said. She had stopped moving, but Null took no notice and continued to walk on.

“What? But you can already see me.”

“Null. Stop.”

Null turned around and waved her hands in shock.

“Sorry! Was I annoying you? I’ll shut up now!”

Minnow shook her head.

“Not that. Look,” Minnow pointed beside a tree.

Null looked in the direction that Minnow pointed at, but didn’t notice anything.

“What? Is it a beast?” Null asked.

Minnow scowled.

“If there was a beast so close by, don’t you think it would be unwise to stop where the beast could attack us?”

“Yeah, but a beast could attack us at any moment…”

Minnow shook her head.

“Walk over here, and then see where I’m pointing,” Minnow huffed.

Null walked over, clutching her right arm in shame. Every now and then it twitched, and Minnow didn’t seem to take notice. Null did, however, and she knew what it meant, as well: that her blood was being drained. Every time her arm twitched, she felt a stinging sensation go along with it, and with the lack of nutrition she’s had over the last couple of days, she was bound to faint if she wasn’t careful.

“Sorry,” Null said while sensing annoyance in Minnow’s voice, “I really, really should know better, but I’m just so stupid.”

“You’re not. But I do need to caution you not to –”

“Aah!” Null yelped, and Minnow covered Null’s mouth before she could let out a shrill shriek.

In front of the two ladies was a withered corpse seated next to the side of the tree. Almost skeletal in appearance, and whatever scraps of skin remained on the body looked less like flesh and more elastic, or peeled-off paint.

On the top of the skull was tufts of hair flowing down, but only a few strands of what must have once been a full head of hair.

The corpse wore a leather jacket, covered in a rusted red. There were patches where a faded black pigment could be spotted on the jacket, and underneath the jacket was a camisole, also covered in red. Despite having no smell, both ladies knew what the red meant.

“Skeletons are so scary...what if they get up and start attacking us?” Null asked in a hushed tone as soon as Minnow uncovered Null’s mouth.

“It’s a corpse, not a skeleton,” Minnow corrected.

“Corpses are scary, too! What if they get up and start attacking us?” Null looked around, frantic.

“You mean, like a beast? I’ve never seen a corpse walk up, but…” Minnow thought back to when her siblings were taken from her and shuddered. “I can see that happening. I guess we need to remain cautious. I’d like to believe that this one, at least, is just that: a corpse, without any pretense.”

“No pretense? But corpses don’t just grow on trees.”

“Sorry, Null. What I meant was, this corpse isn’t scary on its own. But that’s not to say we shouldn’t be afraid. After all, there’s at least two questions we must be asking ourselves: what caused this person’s death, and how long have they been dead?”

“Probably a beast,” Null shrugged her shoulders. Once she got over the initial shock, even as she felt a twisting feeling in her guts, she was able to relax, even just a little bit.

Minnow nodded.

“Most likely a beast, if this person died sometime after the calamity. Though judging by how withered they look, they may have been sitting there longer than a year. I’ve not heard of a beast that could dry out someone’s insides so fast.”

“Um...about that…” Null muttered.

“What?” Minnow turned to her.

“I mean, it’s possible. We don’t know what kind of beasts are out there, right?”

Minnow walked over to the corpse.

“Um. Minnow? What are you doing? What happened to remaining cautious?” Null leaned in and tried to stop Minnow before she did anything foolish.

Minnow crouched down and picked up an object from the ground. When she stood up, Null noticed the rectangular object.

“it’s a...book?” Null tilted her head.

“A journal,” Minnow corrected and opened it up to the first page. “It could give us an idea of how long this body has been sitting here. Let’s see… ‘My name is Petey Oliver. My sister is Millie Oliver. I have short, black hair and like to wear leather jackets. My sister has long, black hair, and likes to wear polyester jackets. We live together and are always fated to be together. This I know for sure. We are inseparable.’ Nope. This tells me nothing. I should see if there’s an entry for the day of the calamity.”

“I feel like we’re invading someone’s privacy…” Null looked away in shame.

“It’s a corpse, Null. I’m sure it won’t mind us reading through this journal,” Minnow reminded her.

“Their name was Petey.”

“Was. Whatever life they led...it doesn’t exist anymore.”

Null hung her head low.

“It is sad, Null. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that it isn’t. I’m just so used to seeing dead bodies by now that, I…”

Null shook her head.

“I’m not sad. Just scared. What if I had a journal and I wrote in my most private thoughts that I didn’t want anyone to know, and then I died, and someone read it? That would be the worst, don’t you think?”

Minnow let out a chuckle.

“I guess so. It’s hard for me, being someone who doesn’t have much to hide. But I think if I was one who wanted a place to write down my most private thoughts, I’d not want anyone to see them, even if I was dead,” Minnow sympathized, even as she skipped through the pages of the journal.

“Aha!” Minnow exclaimed with delight as she found a page dated a couple of days after the calamity.

“What is it?” Null asked, and leaned in. Curiosity overtook any sense of fear for violations of privacy.

Together, the two read the entry:

This may be my longest entry.

After this, I don’t know how well I’ll be able to count the days.

Let’s see…

My sister and her date, some blonde haired boy with a shine in his teeth, walked out of the restaurant. I followed behind, but didn’t say a word. They walked over to the black car, and...we all fell to the ground. I was barely off the stairs.

I must have blacked out. When I stood up, I had small scratches and cuts from the fall. Bruises on my knees and forehead. My head ached, but my personal pain was the least of my worries when I saw the damage done to the restaurant: it was crushed, with no indication as to what did so. Smoke billowed out from atop, and through the shattered windows, I saw arms hanging out, blood on the glass, and smoke filling up the inside.

It was dusk. Evening. Nightfall. Whatever suits your fancy.

My dear sister, Millie, and her date stood by the car. I ran over to them and asked them what happened. “I don’t know. We blacked out and we just woke back up. This is all so sudden,” was what one of them told me. All so sudden indeed.

“For now, let’s get you two back home,” the boy Millie had seen suggested. We had no better judgment, so we just nodded along and got in the car. Along the way, we saw many buildings demolished. The whole city looked like it had been pressed down by a giant french press. When we got to our apartment complex, it had somehow remained intact. The whole place was silent. It was strange.

Millie’s date stayed with us for the night. We thought we were safe.

The next day we woke up to hear ear-splitting screams. We checked on the other apartments, knocked on each one, but no answer. Millie’s date forced himself through some doors, only to find the apartments empty. Were the people evacuated or…? It’s really hard to tell, and when I look back, it’s even harder.

What was I doing the whole time? Just watching. It was all I could do. I can’t stand myself.

We walked outside, and nearby stood something I could only describe as a monster, even if it was humanoid in shape: its whole body looked like it was made up of pulsating, red worms. It had imprints on its head to make up the shape of eyes and a mouth.

It advanced toward us. “Get in the car!” Yelled Millie’s date, and the two got inside. I was too slow, and they drove off rather than wait for me.

The creature walked toward me. It let out a hissing sound as several worms erupted from its mouth. I couldn’t believe it, but I knew that if I didn’t run, I would be in danger. But as much as I tried to run, my body wouldn’t move. It was like I was stuck. I heard shrieks all around me, but they didn’t seem to be coming from anyone.

However, the creature stopped walking toward me and turned around. As if a delayed reaction, and its true target was my sister and her date. I wanted to yell, “take him, but not my sister!” But no words would come out until the beast was out of sight. By the time I was able to open my mouth, all that came out was a feeble squeak.

“I have to warn them,” I thought as I ran back into the apartment and grabbed my motorcycle. I raced toward where the car drove to. I didn’t have a clue where they were headed, if they even knew. But I had to warn them. In the distance, I saw a giant, white and metallic looking octopus-like creature slither atop buildings and smash them. I considered myself lucky I didn’t have to deal with such a thing.

My phone rang and I answered; it was Millie. “Hey,” she said, “sorry for leaving you behind. We didn’t mean to. We’re holding up at a hotel. There’s no one here, but also we’re high up enough that I think we’re safe from that monster.” I asked her, “where at?” And she said, “big golden building. Can’t miss it.” I knew exactly where she meant.

When I got close to the hotel, the same beast that had frightened the three of us stood in the middle of the road. To avoid hitting it, I braked and crashed my motorcycle. It slid against the beast, but it just stomped its worm-filled foot against it and crushed the machine. My knees were bloody. I was sure I had broken a leg and I swore I could see bone sticking out from my knee. I thought to myself, “I’m done for,” but Millie’s date showed up and leaped at the beast with a lead pipe. It...did nothing to the beast, and instead, the beast’s worm arms turned into piercing claws and it shoved its clawed hand into his shoulders. He screamed, and fell to the ground. I yelled for him, and he was able to limp over. He grabbed onto me and we hurried off into the hotel.

Millie was there, sitting atop a bed. He sat beside her. She wrapped a bandage around his wound. It was a miracle he was alive at all, and I was grateful that he came for me, don’t get me wrong, but neither of them noticed my own injury. “Thank you for coming for me,” I told them, and he laughed and said, “of course! We wouldn’t forget about you!” I couldn’t believe he said that, because they already forgot about me once.

The beast showed up at the hall near our hotel room. We thought that since we were so high up, it should have at least bought us some time. But it broke through the door and opened its mouth wide to reveal many snake-like appendages which shot out and almost impaled Millie’s date from where he sat. He got up in time and took to the balcony where he jumped down. I’m sure he thought he could escape that way, but from the height he jumped from, it was needless to say that…

Millie and I were what was left. She ran into the beast, and I didn’t know what she was thinking. I even yelled out, “what are you doing?!” But she didn’t listen, and when it stabbed through her, she gasped out one word: “run.”

I still have a broken leg, but I ran anyway. I wanted to protest, but her life was already taken from me. I was sure that gesture was her last way of telling me that she loved me. If only she had done so in a different way.

There was an entry for the next day:

All I have is my journal. I’ve been going on foot, but I’m still in a great deal of pain. I still don’t understand anything. Last night, as I escaped the city, I saw Millie. Yes, it sounds crazy. Like, was it just another hallucination? I don’t know. Maybe the whole world had turned into a hallucination. But she stood there not far from me and laughed. I turned and asked if it was her. She said, “I’ve always resented you. Because of you, I never got to have a life. You are the cause of all this.” I asked her what she meant, even though I knew what she had said was true. It had always been true.

Rather than answer, she grabbed each end of her head and pulled. She split herself in half and masses of blood and organs spilled onto the ground. I let out a scream. It’s strange, though, in hindsight, as I didn’t see anything like a brain or a bone structure. So whether it was her, one of those monsters, or a hallucination...I couldn’t tell.

I’ve been on the road since then. I doubt I’ll survive much longer. My legs ache and it’s not getting any better. I haven’t had food or water. I’m just glad I have a pen and my journal.

A few days later:

There haven’t been any more monster sightings. I’ve been in the woods. I really wonder whether the world is ending around me, or if this is all in my mind. If it is, I don’t think it matters, because my life is ending either way.

I found a tree to sit under. I don’t mind the bugs. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes I think I see rats in the nearby trees. I’ve tried to get up and continue walking, but my leg just won’t move. I really think this is the end for me.

Another few days later:

I’ve been having dreams where something crawls into my eye and burrows its way deep. Every time I have that dream, I wake up and check my eye. It’s recurring. I can’t prove it hasn’t already happened. There hasn’t been any sign of that worm-infested monster. If it shows up, I don’t think I can run. I already know I can’t defend myself. If it kills me, I just hope it does while I’m asleep.

Minnow flipped through several blank pages. She had already gotten her answer that Petey had died probably a week after the calamity. Still, curiosity took over, and she wanted to see if there were any more entries. Toward the end of the journal, there were three words written, with no date labeled atop:

I’m wide awake.

[bluepenguinstories]

Amorous Monster Venture

Up in the mountains was the ruins of a structure, one whose walls were made of marble and reinforced steel. The glass on which once served as windows had shattered years ago, cracks along the building formed deeper each year that it still managed to stand. That it stood at all had been a miracle, given how much of the remains of the old world were long-forgotten.

More a miracle yet, is that someone had found their way inside: a woman with long, coarse black hair and a clammy, pale complexion. Through her purple eyes, whose pupils seemed to dart around, even in the dark, she could sense the outline of other beasts from as far out as several kilometers away.

Her name, a simple three letter word: ‘Eve’.

Hm. There’s a winged one on the ceiling the next room over. I should take care to avoid that one. I suspect it plans to swoop down and devour me, she made a note of the room across from her. It was a shame, as that room in particular interested her the most. It said on the wall above the door: ‘repairs’.

This whole building is in need of repair. That, or to let rot.

Eve mapped out the layout of the building, or whatever was left of it, in her head. If I find a sheet of paper, I will try to make a blueprint of it later so I have a better idea on exploration. But, there may be other ruins that would be much more worth my time.

On the ground, she found an old tattered manual to what seemed to be a personal computer software. Some proprietary security application which was meant to run in the background and monitor all of its employees.

Most of the words were faded, and the pages itself were covered in mud and mold alike. Had her own skin not been rotten since her inception, Eve herself would have been much more careful.

This will do for now. I should head out and meet back up with Eglantine. We had a picnic reserved today and everything. What have I been doing here in the first place? Even wonders as she turned around, back toward the entrance. Her footsteps, however soft, still alerted the presence on the ceiling, and before she could head outside, the winged creature swooped down and soared toward her, with an outstretched beak which looked more like a kaleidoscope. With its mouth wide, several limbs with noodle appendages on the ends wriggled about. If the beast didn’t devour Eve in a gulp, then the limbs were a surefire way to grab her and force her in.

That was, if Eve didn’t sense the approaching presence from the beginning. She traced the outline of the beast without even having to look at it. She sensed the torso, and every limb which leaked out from the creature’s beak. As the beast drew closer, it opened its mouth wider to take one big gulp, and…

...With a series of swift strikes from Eve’s extended nails, the beast was torn apart, strewn up on the ground in little tattered pieces. Pieces of its torso appeared like fillets, the limbs which had jutted out of its mouth were so cut up and misshapen that whatever they once looked like remained a mystery. Her nails had grown to be as long as the door she had stepped over in order to get inside the wrecked building.

In an instant, her nails retracted back into a more suitable size. She knew she couldn’t show up to her date when her nails were so long that it would tear

However, it was when she noticed the bloody mess on the book which had dropped onto the floor, and how every word that wasn’t faded before was now stained in the disgusting mixture of the beast’s blood and saliva.

Eve pursed her lips, then tossed the book on the ground.

“It’s not worth it,” she shook her head, “I’m going to be late for our date. If the beasts want to come, let them. With any luck, I won’t be in the area for long.”

She left the ruins and waded through the long grass which made up the fields surrounding the ruins. Once, there had been a parking lot, but the road gave way to cracks, which gave way to broken stones, and later, soil found its way back up to the surface. Every now and then, however, there would be remnants of the old worlds. Little cracks which served as reminders of what the world once was. For all her perceptiveness, Eve had trouble keeping her balance along said cracks – she tripped over a small tear in the earth and her brittle form stumbled and flailed about.

She almost fell on her face into the grass, but a cold hand clasped hers and held her up. Eve looked and almost fell backwards upon seeing the bright sight of her date: Golden hair in a braided bun with a wide smile and rosy cheeks. It was enough to bring some brightness to Eve’s otherwise muted gray face. Eve had on a frilled black dress with a dark, red cape attached to the end, and shoulder plates atop the sleeves of her dress.

“Huzzah!” Cheered the bright and cheery young woman.

Eve leaned back, and pulled the young woman up with her.

“Eglantine, how long have you been laying in the grass? And why?”

“Just since you’ve been in that building! Fear not, I had no doubt you could slay the beasts! I wanted to surprise you! Did it work?” Eglantine asked while hopping about.

“Ha. Well, I am certainly surprised,” Eve forced out a laugh.

Even though I’m used to you hiding around and trying to startle me by now, Eve thought to herself.

Beside, or behind, it was always hard to tell, and rather, it was always attached to her like a phantom limb, was a gaunt, tall, shadowy and murky figure. Eve came to know this figure as a ghost. Most couldn’t see such a thing. Eve could. Eve could see every outline of it, every detail, however obscured, when she closed her eyes.

Closing her eyes never prevented her from seeing what was around her, after all.

The way the ghost was connected to Eglantine blurred the line further between whether there was one spirit, or two, as when she noticed the ghost, she began to see the left half of Eglantine missing, and would see brain matter falling out on one side, mangled flesh and bones sticking out. Half of her left leg would be torn up, as if shredded by a life-sized cheese grater.

But no, Eglantine had her full head, two arms, two legs, her full stomach. She had clothes that fit her, she had a helmet over her head, and she used her limbs all the time both to entertain herself as well as to entertain Eve.

To anyone else, the ghost could be ignored. After all, they didn’t have the luxury, or curse, to see things that they shouldn’t, like Eve could. Still, she did her best to ignore the spirit most days, even when it was always staring her down, giving disapproving looks through its hollowed out, pressed face whenever Eve and Eglantine smiled in each other’s company. Despite it all, it was far from the worst she had ever seen.

As someone who once ran a brothel where beasts and what was left of humanity alike were patrons and workers, and each indulged in the other to their heart’s content, Eve had been privy to worse sights.

If anything else, that spirit was a distraction. Annoying, but still couldn’t take away from the warmth she felt when Eglantine would lay beside her and stroke her hair or run her fingers down from Eve’s chest and trace down the stomach to her legs, her thighs, and…

“Shall we attend to our picnic?” Eglantine asked, a wry smile across her lips.

“Am I the feast?” Eve joked.

“Oh, come on, now!” Eglantine elbowed Eve and the two fell back down into the grass.

Eve wrapped her arms around Eglantine, passing through the shadow of the spirit along the way. They laughed together and remained in their position for what felt like an eternity, and Eve could have gone an eternity longer, but her stomach, whatever sour mess of acid could be called a ‘stomach’, growled harsher than most beasts she had encountered could growl.

“Huzzah! We shall feast!” Eglantine leaped up.

Eve pursed her lips. Even if hunger called for her, she wished she could have held Eglantine in her arms just a few minutes longer.

Beside where Eglantine had been hiding, there was a basket made of straw.

“What’s in it?” Eve asked as Eglantine picked up the basket.

“It’s a surprise,” Eglantine winked while placing her index finger over her lips and making a shushing sound.

The two walked together through the fields until they found a spot, out in the open, where the grass was short. They sat down beside each other and Eve, unable to resist the temptation, opened up the basket.

Inside the basket was a random assortment of flowers, bundled up together.

Eve looked up, stared into Eglantine’s mischievous but adorable eyes, and groaned.

“I can’t eat these,” Eve declared. “I thought you would have brought food.”

“But...but…” Eglantine stammered, “I thought a picnic was where we sat together and enjoyed each other’s company! I didn’t know there was supposed to be food!”

“We do that all the time, already.”

“Yes, well, that doesn’t mean this can’t be a special occasion anyway, does it?”

As disappointed as Eve was with the contents of the basket, she couldn’t disagree with that notion. It was enough just to be beside Eglantine, after all.

“Eh. You’re right,” Eve shrugged.

She grabbed the bundle of flowers and tossed them into her mouth…

...They didn’t taste half-bad.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 14

Their stares said the same thing: “we were going to leave tomorrow, but it looks like our departure date just moved up.”

There was no need to say any more on the subject. If they wanted, they could gather a few more things and head out the door. Likewise, there was nothing to indicate that they couldn’t leave: never in the rules that Frou-Frou stated was there a mention of being stuck there. So the first words uttered aloud may have come as a surprise.

“I need to get some fresh air,” Null announced.

“Be careful. Let’s meet back up here, okay?” Minnow said in turn.

“Of course. I’m not going to leave without you.”

Hearing those words put a smile on Minnow’s face. Despite how volatile the situation was just a few minutes ago, she had no reason to believe Null was in danger. With how scared and timid Null was, if not clumsy as well, she was unlikely to do anything reckless. At the first sign of danger, Null would run away.

Of that, Minnow was sure.

So long as she doesn’t run into that Frou-Frou guy again. He’s bad news.

Her wound still throbbed. She placed her palm on it and felt the sting. She hadn’t bled out, but the sensation might have suggested otherwise. The tears that were already on her face were mere residual. In the depths of her heart, she had nothing but resentment for the one who had punched her. Who dared to threaten Null. Most of all, for herself, for not heeding Null’s warnings.

I just wanted a safe place for us. How could I have been so wrong? She wondered.

There would be no time left to wonder: a series of knocks tapped upon the door. Low in tone, but not heavy. Then, without further warning, the handle turned and the door opened to reveal the looming figure of Frou-Frou in the doorway.

So soon? She scowled at the man who advanced toward her.

Yes, it was true that her eyes burned, but so too did her rage.

“What? Did you feel I got off too easy?” She scoffed.

He shook his head, with the trademark frown on his face.

“You and I have something to discuss. I just saw that friend of yours walk out the door. Now is the perfect time,” he said, his tone flat, but low, and barely masking his anger.

“Is that so?” She repeated the favorite phrase of his. Or one of the phrases he seemed to like best. Frou-Frou was known to have many favorites.

“First off, allow me to issue an apology: I let my temper show.”

“Is that all you have to say? Do you have regrets over hitting me? Don’t. You were still going to hit Null. You shouldn’t have hit either of us. If that’s your idea of an apology, you can shove it.”

He snickered.

“You can be as rude as you want to me right now. I don’t care. No, she deserved such a punishment, and you taking the fall for her doesn’t change that. That’s not what I wish to discuss.”

“Then what?”

He glanced down, noticed the backpack with the supplies poking out.

“Are you planning on leaving?” He asked.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. On the contrary. Leave. But don’t take that friend of yours with you.”

The stinging sensation which was once isolated to her face spread to the lower parts of her body as well.

“What makes you think I would do that?” The very thought was worse than any punch he could have thrown her way.

“You know, when you first entered, I was trying to place why I thought you were familiar,” he smiled. “It’s just now that I recall the rumors I heard from past residents. How there was a small woman who would travel with others and lead them to their deaths. Their description of that woman matched yours.”

It was then that the fire inside her was dampened with an icy chill and she couldn’t decide whether or not to turn red or turn pale.

“I never saw any survivors! How could that be?”

“Ha. So you admit it. You think there wouldn’t ever be a witness. That word wouldn’t travel of ‘people to watch out for’, or ‘people to stay away from.’ I don’t know what you told that friend of yours, but you’re nothing but trouble. She would be better off without you.”

“And what? She would be better with you? Someone to throw to your dogs upon any minor perceived slight? I won’t accept that.”

“You have my word that if you leave, I won’t kill her. I think I can set her on the right path. Teach her to be respectful. Lead a better life. Could you promise the same thing?”

“I don’t need to promise anything like that,” she stood up, her scowl deep-set. “I don’t want to know what your definition of ‘set her on the right path’ is. Furthermore, I never ‘led people to their deaths.’ Those people you’re referring to all saw me as weak. They all stood in front of me and were taken by the beasts, all to protect me. I never asked for their protection. I never wanted it. I never wanted a single one of those people to die, not a single one.”

“You know why those people thought of you as weak?”

“Because I’m small. My soft voice betrays me. They all think of me as some kind, weak little thing, and never bothered to ask what I was capable of, only assuring me that I’m someone in need of protection.”

“You admit it yourself: you are capable. It’s your will that is weak. You say you never wanted a single one of them to die, yet did you ever do anything to try to save them?”

“Don’t you think I would have if I could?”

“That’s just it: you could. And maybe you wouldn’t have succeeded, but you already said you were capable. It’s that you refused to budge that makes you weak. I bet deep down, you enjoyed how they perceived you because it meant that you were never in any real danger. You can deny it all you want, but weak willed people like you love to leech off the strong.”

Minnow paused, gulped, and looked down at the floor. She told herself that she wouldn’t be reduced to tears once again, that it wasn’t worth it.

“Null and I...we’ve been together for a couple months now. In that time, we’ve had several brushes with death. We helped each other survive each time, and she never once looked down on me. Maybe I failed in the past with others, but I refuse to fail with Null.”

“You say that now, but I’m willing to bet that given the right circumstance, you would drop her like a hat. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m just calling it like I see it. I’m calling it like I see it.”

He walked away, back out the door.

Minnow was left to stand and stare off in the dining room, stuck in her position to do much else.

Please, she thought, hurry back, Null.

What went on in Null’s mind at the moment was a mystery to herself. Usually, she knew her own thoughts, even if she would have rather pretended otherwise. Now, however…

The air was thick and tense.

She let out a deep breath, a sort of relief. Her heart still raced thinking of just a moment ago. Countless times she had thought, it’s okay if I got hurt, but not Minnow.

“It’s my own fault. I know it,” she looked down and smiled in the middle of the street, full of rubble and broken glass. It took everything she had to hold back any more tears. A few loose ones still fell at the mere thought of what had transpired. “It’s my own fault, so why wasn’t she mad at me as well?”

She wiped away her tears with her sleeve. It had recently been washed, as was her messy, blood orange hair, which ran all over the place, even when she tried to brush it. At best, she could get her hair somewhat straightened out, but several curls would still poke their way out.

At least she could thank her lucky stars she got a decent shower. The first time in over a year. The last time she was likely to partake in one. She ran her fingers through her hair. It turns out, when washed, it was rather silky and the sensation of feeling her way in was an ecstatic, over the rainbow type feeling.

I’d like it if Minnow could run her fingers through my hair as well, Null thought, well aware that it was a silly one. Were Minnow to ask, Null would have probably refused. But she acknowledged the desire was there.

Back before the calamity, before the dissolution of her sole and final friend, Null managed to shower on a somewhat consistent basis. Usually, every other day, and usually at night. There were days she skipped taking one, usually when her mood was particularly low, and she’d sometimes have to be careful with the timing of her showers, lest her parents yell at her for keeping them up with the water running.

Those days, even when she had nothing else going for her, the softness of her hair after a good wash was one source of pride for her. Even if it was an unruly thing that seemed to have a mind of its own, it was hers, and in its own way, it treated her well.

She looked around. What started as wandering aimlessly and hoping to sort out her thoughts turned into quite the tangled mess. Not unlike her hair, even when washed.

Rows of broken down buildings and old alleyways with thick, oil-like substances running through them. A few permeated a foul, vinegar and rotten meat smell, likely the remnants of where dumpsters once lay.

Behind her, where she had walked from, a couple of those beasts patrolled. Slow, but menacing. One paw in front of the other, and when they lifted up said paws, they folded like a curtsy until coming down. Through the hole at the tip of their closed-in petal faces was a hoarse, heavy huffing sound. It conjured up images of the snorting sounds pugs made.

Great. Now I’m comparing them to dogs as well.

Her right arm twitched. Their approach gave Null a sinking feeling in her chest, but as much as she dreaded having to go near such grotesque things, another side of her was excited.

“Go ahead,” Null muttered, glancing down at the sleeve on her right arm. A thick, goopy substance clutched the zipper and unzipped the side of Null’s sleeve. Sprung out from the sleeve emerged a long, curved, dripping blade. It hardened and grew as Null ran forward. Her heart, her mind, her legs, they wall told her to turn back. Hell, were it not for the slime’s needs, she just might have.

The two beasts crouched and readied themselves for an attack. Their petals opened up and emitted a sharp hissing sound as the folds danced about and saliva dripped between the sharp teeth of theirs.

Both leaped forward, aiming for each arm. Null, startled, leaped back and almost fell to the ground, but her right arm took control and slashed forward at one of the beast’s mouths, slicing it in half.

The other beast clamped down on Null’s left arm, the folds of its petaled head enveloping her.

“AAH! FUCK!” She cursed and tried to shake it off but the beast’s teeth refused to let go. In shock, she fell to the ground, pieces of rocks sticking to the fabric of her uniform in the process. At the same time, the needle-like teeth punctured through the fabric of her sleeve and little streams of blood trickled down. She hissed and began to feel dizzy, the movements of her shaking arm slowed.

Out of all the ways to die, she thought while crackling static floated through her mind. Consciousness slowly faded. But, in a last-ditch effort, her right arm swung and sliced the beast in half. Its back end fell to the ground. Her slime, desperate, zeroed in on the food in front of her and pulled Null forward until Null’s right fist found its way inside the beast’s innards. Within, it felt like plunging her hand into a thick bowl of gelatin colliding with little pieces of bone marrow and strange, curvy organs which reminded her of a rubber cushion.

Something sour began to find its way up Null’s throat and her eyes shot open wide.

“Urgh…” She hummed and tried to swallow the acidic substance back down. It burned through her, but she resisted the urge to spill it forth onto the ground.

By now, she was sure her left arm had went numb, as the beast’s head, even if it was lifeless, refused to let go. But her right arm, meanwhile, absorbed all the blood within the beast and the inner walls of the beast closed in until it was deflated. Only the bone marrow and dried up organs remained.

When Null pulled her right arm out, she saw that her fist was covered in the thick, wet, crimson substance she had become all too used to, as was her sleeve. However, when the slime retracted, her fist was void of any blood, and her sleeves, while carrying a slight brown-hued stain, looked dry as well. In a swift swoop, the slime returned to the shelter in her right arm and the sleeve of her uniform closed behind.

Dizzy and still on the ground, she tried making feeble motions with her left arm until the folds of the petals that were the beast’s head slid down and fell to the ground.

She too fell on her back and laid there. Her left arm, feeling hard as stone, strained her to move, but once she had it in front of her, she noticed the red puncture marks around her sleeve. Little bits of fabric torn clean off, and a trickling, wet redness.

“Here I thought something like this would be a cakewalk,” she mumbled, eyes closed. “Ugh. How am I going to explain this to Minnow?”

She remained there for what felt like several moments, however, not even three minutes passed when her rest was interrupted.

“You sure made fine work of my doggies, little lady,” Frou-Frou announced with a low, breathy voice.

She poked her head up, eyes open, and was startled to see the large figure in front of her, arms crossed, and with a disarming smirk.

“Um. I don’t know what you saw, but,” Null pushed herself up and stood with a slouch. “I was just walking. Your beasts attacked me, and, well, um...I guess maybe they sensed you were near and stopped? Yeah.”

“You can’t play dumb with me. Maybe that would work on that lady friend of yours, but me? I saw the whole thing.”

Frou-Frou snickered and that was when Null noticed the two beasts standing beside him.

“Heh. No wonder you two survived for so long. You two protecting each other? What a load of bull. If she hadn’t been traveling with a beast, she would have been long dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” Null squinted.

“You didn’t know? She’s traveled with others before. Others who she let die to save her own skin. If it weren’t for you being a beast, she would have probably left you to die a long time ago.”

Null gulped as her heart leaped.

“So? I’ve done the same. That’s why I prefer being alone in the first place. Why should I be responsible for others’ lives when I never deserved to live in the first place?” Null’s creased brow was soon turning to a scowl, but she herself couldn’t understand why. “I’ve even told her that I’d gladly die if it meant she lived on, so why should hearing this change my mind about her?”

“You fool. But what else should I expect from a beast? Trying to mimic human behavior to gain sympathy so I’ll drop my guard? That won’t work on me.”

“What?! I’m not a beast! I’m…” Null couldn’t finish the thought.

What am I? She asked herself, but nothing conclusive came to mind.

“LIAR!” Frou-Frou roared. His face turned a fiery red. He snarled and snorted. “I SAW YOU! DON’T LIE TO ME!”

He was loud enough to knock the wind out of her and she took a step back, a cold sweat formed on her face.

This is wrong. I need to get out of here.

She turned and ran deeper into the city.

I’ll try to catch up with Minnow. We’ll run away together. We’ll --

“Dogs! Pin her down!” Frou-Frou commanded.

She stumbled and tripped over upon hearing those words but managed to regain her balance and keep moving. However, the speed of the dogs outran her and soon they leaped behind her and rammed their heads into her back, knocking her down on the ground where her face met the cracked pavement.

They stood over her arms and a couple more of the beasts Frou-Frou called ‘dogs’ ran in from around the corner.

The slime attached to her arm pulled itself out from Null’s sleeve and changed shape to its blade form.

Null gasped. Before, she still had plausible deniability. Not that she considered herself a beast at all, but in Frou-Frou’s eyes.

He drew closer. His footsteps, soft, but palpable, rang in her ears. She tried to shut her eyes tight, but it did nothing to stop those sounds. With the other two beasts next to her, they clamped their jaws down on her fingers.

“AAAAAAA --” Tears filled her eyes and she let out a blistering scream. She wondered if Minnow could hear from that far, but hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

Her slime tried to swing about, but couldn’t so much as get a scratch on the beasts while both of Null’s arms were pinned down. No matter how much Null tried to wriggle and struggle, she was trapped.

Before any relief could be found, he stood before her, boot raised, and dropped it down on her back. She wheezed, barely able to gasp, and it felt like her ribcage might have cracked. The tears flowed harder, as did the snot running down her nose.

“P-Please,” she squeezed the words not, not even sure if those words were intelligible.

Rather than answer her prayer, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a metal collar, then knelt down over her, opening the collar and clamping it around her neck.

“You can let go now,” he commanded his pet beasts. They stepped off, released their grip, and backed away.

Null struggled up, her insides feeling like broken glass, and she tried to swing her right arm forward towards two of the beasts. The second she did so, Frou-Frou reached into his front pocket and pulled out his remote. The dial turned on the shock collar and electric currents spread against her neck. With a blinding bright light, she convulsed, then fell back to the ground.

The shocks dissipated, but some still danced around while her hair stood on end.

Her limbs had gone numb, and in the midst of the shock, her slime had retreated back into her sleeve.

“You’ll make a good dog,” was the last thing Null heard before she blacked out.

Minnow spent the remainder of the day pacing around in the duplex.

She was sure Null said she wouldn’t leave without her, but then, why wasn’t Null back?

There was a box of saltine crackers in one of the cupboards. A blue box, with a picture of the very same crackers. Not one of the crackers pictured looked appealing, and the expiration date on the box was set for a year and a half ago.

Maybe she really did leave without me. Maybe she just told me that to reassure me. To make me feel better. But I get it. Maybe she heard about my prior experiences traveling with others, was disgusted with what she heard, and left the city on her own. Even if it wasn’t that, I know she never wanted to be here in the first place. I kept pressuring her. Making the decision for her. It was wrong. I just wanted us to have a safe haven, even for a little while. I was so tired…

But more than that, this must have been building up for a while. From the beginning, she never wanted to travel with me. I forced that on her. I know I’ve been a burden on her all this time. What have I done to help her feel better? Nothing. If anything, I’ve only constrained her. And for what? To satisfy my own loneliness? Did I ever really care for her or was I just desperate to be around someone who lasted longer than a few days around me?

She ripped open the boxes. She knew all too well what those thoughts were, and if she didn’t start occupying herself, they would only go on longer.

She tore through the plastic and grabbed a handful of crackers.

At first, she shoved a few in her mouth and crunched down while tears jerked out from her and strained her face. They were stale. Tasteless. Exactly the taste she needed.

They taste like nothing.

Wrong.

They taste like indigestion.

Her thoughts were still sour, but at least they were focused on the task at hand.

What turned to plowing down stale, expired crackers soon shifted to slow nibbling as she continued to sob.

“Please, Null...come back!” She cried.

As the sun began to set, she knew that too much time had past. She was still a wreck, yet she maintained some sliver of hope.

Maybe she got lost. Or maybe she’s upstairs.

She already checked upstairs earlier. Besides, if Null had come back, Minnow would have heard the front door open. Right?

Sunset shifted to dusk. The light of the living room was on and she walked over to the front window, scanned her eyes around outside.

No sign of life. No howling wind.

Maybe she’s still in the city. Maybe one of his dogs killed her. Maybe HE killed her. If that’s true, maybe her corpse is already in the fire. Maybe I’m too late. But even if that’s the case, I want to see her. And if she left the city, I want to…

She crawled over to the door.

When she awoke, indentations from the fuzzy living room carpet formed on her chin. Around her lips were the crumbs from the crackers she had binged down the night before. She faced the door, but wasn’t even near the stairs.

Exhaustion: she passed out before she could make her first move.

What if I’m too late, just like I’m always too late? She thought, but her expression wasn’t one of despair: simply glum.

Unsure of Null’s possible whereabouts, she pushed herself forward until she stood up. Off-balance, she wobbled. Her head still spun.

It took a moment, but she grabbed the basket which lay in the dining room since the day prior. Still in its same spot: still on the carpeted floor near the table.

Once it was in her clutches, she headed out the door. She couldn’t fathom what lay ahead, but she knew she’d have to face it sooner or later. If she was lucky, she would find Null. But without any indication of her whereabouts, the chances were grim.

She walked straight toward the exit. If she was wrong...no, that wasn’t the time to think about that.

As she drew near, a voice called out to her from behind. A voice she was both eager and dreading to hear:

“Hoho, looks like you decided to take my advice,” gloated Frou-Frou. The gate, again, looking like a shed, was close by, but it would have to wait. She turned, and her draw was just about ready to drop to the ground upon what she saw:

Standing by Frou-Frou’s side, with his large hand upon her shoulder, was Null, with a silver metal collar around her neck. In addition to Null were two of his dogs.

“What is the meaning of this?” Minnow’s heart raced as she asked.

“I saw her yesterday after our chat. I decided she’d make a great pet.”

Null’s head was hung low. She looked dejected. One could say it was a look Minnow was familiar with, but she would have rather that look been in any other context.

“Null. Please. Say something,” Minnow begged, her voice nearly a whimper. Null, however, was silent. She noticed brown marks on one sleeve of her uniform, while the other sleeve had several tiny red dots lined up. The middle of her uniform looked caked in dirt or debris. Her face was scratched up, blackened on her cheeks mixed with little lines of red. Her hands looked like they had turned purple, all scabbed up along the knuckles.

“What did you do to her?!” Minnow demanded.

“Be grateful I didn’t kill her. I saw her trying to approach one of my dogs. She broke the rules enough times as it is. Now, I suggest you leave,” Frou-Frou made little sweeping motions with his hand.

“Is this really what you want, Null? Please, say something!”

Null’s lips quivered, but her mouth didn’t open. Rather, Frou-Frou snapped.

“It doesn’t matter what she wants! Her life belongs to me now!”

Minnow scowled, but knowing how strong Null’s captor was and the resources at his disposal (not to mention the beasts he kept as pets), she knew she stood no chance, so her scowl soon gave way to a pouting expression.

She glanced over to her left. There was a whole row of buildings left unexplored, and surely abandoned. It wouldn’t matter if she was leaving, but…

“Before I go, may I take a walk around the city one last time?”

Frou-Frou raised an eyebrow, but smiled.

“Sure. I doubt you’ll find anything of interest, but go ahead.”

She took a bow before walking around the perimeter of the city. She made sure to stay close to the walls, but her eyes were fixed on the buildings nearby.

A few minutes later, she returned to the back gate where Frou-Frou and his entourage still stood.

“Satisfied?” He asked. His patience was wearing thin, but it didn’t matter. As long as she left, the rest of his day would be a breeze.

“Yes. Thank you,” she bowed once more. Before turning toward the door, she fixed her gaze on Null.

“I-It was a pleasure traveling with you,” she said, her voice shaking and on the verge of tears as she did so, “but it appears it’s time we went our separate ways.”

She forced a smile, then turned toward the door and made her exit, basket in hand.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 13

Passing through the door, the two entered the city known as Meatstrip and found knocked over pillars, a burning trash fire off in the corner, stumps where trees once were, and rows of buildings, each in various states of disrepair.

The air itself was thick, and although the city itself wasn’t dark, visibility was low, and it was as if sunlight had been blocked by the permeating smoke in the air. Even though it didn’t seem so harmful as it neither burned the pair’s eyes, nor did it produce a smell that could have seeped into their lungs and choked the life out of them.

Null looked around. The dread she felt before entering didn’t diminish in the slightest, and if anything, only grew.

I may not see anyone around, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t people, she thought with a grimace.

When she turned to her right, she noticed something peculiar with the burning trash heap, one of, if not the sole source of the smoke: charred bodies. Human remains. Among all the plastic bags and the old rotting food, there was no mistaking that she saw an arm, and then a head. Features obscured, she still imagined the head she saw opening their eyes wide and staring right at Null.

On cue, Null jumped back.

Then, Null turned back to her left and saw off to the side, two approaching beasts: four-legged and hairless with black, leathery skin and spines all across their bodies. For heads, they were grayed out flower petals, closed up, with only jagged teeth poking up.

Already tense, her arms and legs went stiff. If she didn’t act fast, her face was soon to follow.

Well, more accurately, her left arm went stiff. Her right, usually stiff enough as it was, tugged itself toward the approaching beasts and she jerked her left hand against her right arm to hold it down.

“Minnow. We really need to get out of here. Now,” Null gave out a hushed command.

“Why?” Minnow, parting her bushy mahogany brown hair (Null always likened Minnow’s hair to the leaves of a large oak tree) away from her eyes and tucking it behind her ears, turned to Null. While turning, she couldn’t help but noticed the approaching sight and let out a yelp, slapping her hands over her mouth before she could make any further noise.

Instead, with wide, strained eyes, turned to Null. Of course, Null had no better answer to give.

“Relax, ladies,” that same voice through the intercom broke out.

Null also broke out of her spell and flexed her hands. Her eyes darted around every which way, managing to ignore or skim past the beasts who patrolled the streets, even as her heartbeats told her how much of a mistake that was.

I would have thought that intercom was for that gateway, but no. There’s some within the city as well.

It took her a minute or two before she noticed the sides of the buildings, just under the roof, carried small speakers.

“What...what is the meaning of this?” Minnow’s voice shook. “You said this was a safe haven from the beasts!”

“It is. Those are my guard dogs,” the voice from the speaker crackled again, “look at them closely.”

Null refused. She would have rather those beasts weren’t there at all. Minnow, however, stared at the two beasts that the voice called ‘dogs.’

“Those are…”

It wasn’t easy to see, but around the necks of the beasts were two round, silver and metallic collars.

“I’ve tamed them. As long as you don’t break any of the rules, you have nothing to fear from them.”

“And? Will you tell us what those rules are?”

Why are you entertaining this? Null thought. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last time that Null questioned Minnow, but there should have been a limit to the ridiculousness of that innocent beauty. No, ‘innocent’ may have gone too far, but it was clear enough to Null that Minnow didn’t always have the best judgment.

“Of course,” Frou-Frou said, followed by a cough, “but first, how about you two get yourselves situated? There’s a duplex where you two can stay, free of charge. I can’t imagine the journey you two have been on, but you may rest now. Besides, it’s best to explain in person.”

I’d rather not meet this guy. Anyone who would ‘tame’ beasts for their own gain has to be messed up. Besides, what was up with that respect and fear question? We gave different answers and yet were both still let in. What was the point of that in the first place? Why was that the requirement for getting in? Null wondered.

Buried in her mind, Null had the answer to all of those questions, but on the surface, only thought of them as unanswerable questions.

“Come on, Null,” Minnow urged.

Null blinked, having been lost in the haze of her own thoughts.

I’m really going to do this? Just follow her?

She was.

The two walked, guided by the voice from the speakers which gave them the directions to the duplex. Down several blocks of broken buildings which may have once been storefronts, with shattered glass in front of the walls, the two soon found their way into the dilapidated remnants of a neighborhood. Many of its buildings, brick or plywood, crumbled or demolished. Some, which stood to some capacity, were missing rooftops. However, the duplex which the voice guided them to, stood in what may have been the best condition the two had seen yet: a few cracks along the outside, but otherwise still stood with a rooftop and with its windows intact.

The building, two floors tall, painted white, with a faded green ceramic rooftop covered in debris had two doors, also painted green. There was a small lawn with dead and wilted, brown grass between the two driveways which sat at the left and right ends of the house.

“Go on in,” Frou-Frou’s voice carried a sinister croon.

Null would rather not, but found herself unable to resist following Minnow’s lead.

Minnow, for her part, walked toward the door, cutting through the grass.

“Use the walkway, you ingrate!” Frou-Frou’s throaty voice scratched its way through one of the speakers. Minnow tensed up and stopped in her tracks.

Just deal with it, she told herself with a scowl on her face. Redirecting herself, she walked back toward the sidewalk, then traced her steps up the driveway and into the path to the door. She placed her palm on the handle and twisted it and found that to her surprise, it was open.

“No locks?” Minnow asked as the door crept open.

“What do you need locks for?”

Yeah. If that’s not a red flag – Null readied herself to say, and would have, were it not for the signs that this guy on the other end of the speaker would have flew into a rage had he heard that.

“Fair enough,” Minnow said, and Null’s jaw dropped.

Fair enough?! What’s fair about that?

Minnow entered inside. Before she disappeared from view, Null took note of Minnow’s large, bushy brown hair in a wavy pattern bouncing behind her. It reached down to the end of her back and seemed rather than go down any further, merely expanded wider. Null imagined that one day, were Minnow to never cut her thick brown hair, that it would envelop and consume her.

The last image Null saw of Minnow was her wide, plump butt which seemed to carve its indentation through Minnow’s long, white dress.

It took about half a minute of staring, even after Minnow had disappeared into the house, before Null realized what she had been doing and promptly tried to scold herself, fist readied over her head to beat herself up with. It was only Minnow’s voice which kept her from going through with the act:

“Aren’t you coming in, Null?”

She really had no choice. If she stayed outside, someone, whether it was that horrible man who was approaching or Minnow herself, would have dragged Null inside. At least if she dragged her feet and entered on her own, she could feel some small sense of agency.

Inside, the whole place was covered in fuzzy, blue carpet. There was a thin stairway upon walking in which led upstairs. To Null’s left, where Minnow happened to be standing in the middle of, was a wide living room, also covered in that same carpet. There was a small sofa, light gray, and covered in brown and red stains. Whether the stains were something innocuous like cranberry juice and coffee, or more distressing like blood and fecal matter, either way, it didn’t make the couch look very inviting.

Past the living room was the back end of the duplex where a wooden table and two wooden chairs rested. There was a small, thin kitchen to the right of the dining area, and two metallic stools with red plastic cushioning for its seat next to the counter.

Minnow paced around and examined every piece of the duplex’s main floor. There was a door next to the couch which led into the garage. Her gut told her that wouldn’t be locked, either.

There was a steel sink in the kitchen that Minnow was drawn to. She turned the crank and water poured out. Her eyes were glazed and went right to searching for a glass. Also in the kitchen was a peach colored refrigerator, with a small freezer above. She opened up the empty fridge, finding its racks to be clean, and an incandescent light filled the interior.

I can’t believe it, she marveled.

It was Null’s turn to stand in the middle of the kitchen. Nothing in her vicinity gave her any more ease. She closed her eyes, thinking at least then, she could forget about the contents of the house. But even as she did so, the image of the sliding glass backdoor behind the dining room filled her vision. How it was obscured by the peach colored curtains, but she knew well enough without seeing it that the backyard wasn’t any more appealing than the rest of the house.

Upon realization that the door was left wide open, Null walked over to it, readying herself to close it. Even as her hands shook, even as her heart told her, ‘run away, run far away,’ she advanced toward the door.

Before she could reach for the handle, a bulky, domineering figure took up the entirety of the door frame with his massive arms and legs, his camo short sleeve shirt, and his brown shorts. Thick, capable veins stretched out from his neck and his arms. She stared up at the figure casting a shadow, his glum frown, his dark sunglasses, and his stringy, matted white hair which went down to his shoulders, the only respite from his otherwise bald head up top.

He advanced forward, and on cue, she backed away.

Her nerves stretched her face thin and danced like little jolts of electricity, sparking her along the way. She was sure that stifling sweat would follow.

She didn’t even register that in his right hand, he carried a wooden basket. It was only when his expression changed to a smile and he exposed his sickening white teeth that she glanced down.

“Nice to meet you both,” he said in a casual, but breathy tone. “I brought you two a gift bag.”

He held it out and opened up one of the hatches to reveal a loaf of bread sticking up as well as an array of red delicious apples, a pre-made pie crust, encased on plastic, and a jar of peanut butter.

I bet one of them’s poisoned, Null thought, before realizing what was really going on. But before she could voice any such warning (no, she wouldn’t have. Not in his presence. Besides, it would have fallen on deaf ears), Minnow walked out from the kitchen and leaned up behind Null to bear witness to the goodies.

“Thank you,” Minnow said to the stranger while staring in awe at the loaf of bread. It wasn’t sliced, but that didn’t matter. Not when it was substance enough.

“Of course. It would be disrespectful of me not to treat my guests. In the cupboards of the kitchen, you can also find boxes of pasta. There are pots and pans you can use down below. We may not have everything, but you should find it bearable.”

Ha. What is ‘bearable’ to you? Null thought while forcing herself to smile. She couldn’t bear to say anything to someone so large, so looming.

“What’s her problem?” Frou-Frou pointed his thick, callused finger down at Null.

“She’s just nervous,” Minnow came to Null’s defense, even as Null backed away, speechless.

“Don’t you know it’s disrespectful not to say thank you, young lady?” He asked, even-toned. But to Null, it may as well have been a shout.

“AAH! I’m sorry! Thank you!” Null backed away and almost fell to the floor.

“You had better teach your friend there some manners, you hear?” He shifted his focus on Minnow.

“I’ll be sure to do so. Now, what about your end? Weren’t you going to explain to us what the rules were so we know what not to break?” Minnow’s face straightened as she stared up at the towering man.

“Of course,” he returned to smiling, even though at this point, Null didn’t buy the fake pleasantries. “It’s really quite simple in Meatstrip: show respect to those around you. Don’t step out of line. Don’t do damage to any of the properties here. I know this place is in need of repair, but breaking it further does no one any favors. Do not enter my skyscraper without permission. If you have a request, always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ Last, do not touch my dogs or interfere with their work. Got it?”

“I do. Thank you. And your name is?”

“Frou-Frou. You would do well to remember that name, too. Follow these rules and you should find this place to be easy living.”

He set the basket upon the floor and walked away. Before he reached the door, Null, in her timid voice, said:

“T-Thank you…”

Frou-Frou turned and even through his dark sunglasses, she could tell just how deep his contempt went for her.

“You had better say that every time I visit,” he growled, then walked out, slamming the door behind him. Null jumped in place.

Minnow stared down at the floor, wondering what she had gotten her and Null into. The fabrics of the sky blue carpet seemed to dance around and wriggle like little worms.

“Um. I’m sure you don’t want to be here right now, but think of it this way: as long as we’re careful, we’ll be safer here than with the beasts. I’d say that’s worth it, wouldn’t you?”

“It’s not like I have a choice, anyway,” Null muttered.

“Sure you do. Why don’t you?”

“Because...I’m pretty much stuck to you, aren’t I? And if you want to be here, then I have to be. That’s all there is to it. You said you wanted to follow me around, but if anything, it’s more like me who has to follow you. It’s not like I’m strong enough to go against you, or anyone.”

Minnow opened her mouth. She thought she had something reassuring to say, but no words appeared before her. Instead, she leaned down and picked up an apple.

“Hey. Maybe we could make apple pie?” Minnow suggested.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” Null muttered.

Minnow shook her head.

“You should be allowed to say how you feel. How about this: we won’t stay here long if you don’t want to. But we should at least pick up some supplies to bring with us before we go.”

“Sure. If it’s just a few days...I think I can handle it,” Null gulped and relented.

When Frou-Frou returned to the skyscraper he called home, a thought crossed his mind as he pictured the two ladies he came to visit:

That brown haired one looks familiar. She’s better at showing respect than that other young lady. What were their names...Minnow and Null? It’s Null in particular who doesn’t look like she’ll last long. Not if she keeps showing such blatant disrespect. I’ll give her some leeway, but I doubt it will be long before my dogs tear her limb from limb and feast on her organs. Whatever remains of her will be added to the fire.

He marched up several flights of stairs off to the side of his skyscraper. There was an elevator which, in theory, would have brought him up to where he needed, were it not for one of the cables being cut. Whatever. He already knew he couldn’t have it all, and besides, walking up all those flights proved to be good exercise.

The only downside was the throbbing in his head. It seems he hadn’t yet overcome his sickness. Not only that, but his head below throbbed as well as thoughts of that ghostly lady who called herself Mouse, flooded his mind.

He grinned. There was no doubt in his mind: he knew what he was going to get up to that night.

Come dusk and Null’s mind remained unchanged: anywhere would have been better than such a pitiful excuse for a ‘city.’

She lay flat on the floor, in a darkened room upstairs. The window in that room was almost as wide as the walls themselves and it overlooked the backyard down below. She had the strange urge to break the glass and jump down, but she resisted, most likely because she knew that doing so wouldn’t have been enough to kill her. So instead, she had to contend with the sight of a bloated and moist corpse of a yard with its wilted plants and a muddy stream which ran across the yard. All of it brown, all of it resembling trash.

All she had to comfort her was a thick, red sleeping bag which she found in the upstairs closet.

Earlier, she and Minnow had shared a meal of cooked spaghetti noodles. No sauce, no butter. Despite the suggestion, Minnow ended up forced to admit that she didn’t know how to make apple pie. That didn’t bother Null in the slightest. Instead, Minnow boasted her other cooking skills.

“I can make spaghetti!” She placed her hands on her hips and grinned, one of her few sources of pride.

It was only after the spaghetti was cooked did she realize that there was no sauce to put on it.

That didn’t bother Null, either. A meal was a meal, and she was at least glad to have eaten something. That should have been enough, but it wasn’t. The image of Frou-Frou wouldn’t leave her mind. It haunted her and amplified any dread she already felt. As a foolish notion, Null requested to sleep alone in the bedroom upstairs. Minnow agreed.

However, Null couldn’t sleep a wink.

Not just for fear of the nightmares that man would give her were she to dream, but also the fact that on the other side of her wall, two people shouted at each other. It was all the proof she needed to know that other people existed.

“HOW DARE YOU, HENRY?! THAT FOOD WAS SUPPOSED TO LAST US A WEEK!” A lady shouted and sounded like a vulture crying out.

“FUCK YOU, IRMA! SO I GOT HUNGRY, SO WHAT?!” The man, whose voice was guttural and made Null think of a cat with laryngitis.

Then, the sound of shattered glass. That, or ceramic. It didn’t matter what. She knew what that crashing sound meant.

“THE HELL? I’M FUCKING BLEEDING!” The woman cried, before snarling, “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

“GOOD! MAYBE I’LL FINALLY BE RID OF YOU!”

Heavy tracks against the floor as the woman ran up to the man. Next, a large thump against the wall and Null, who had tried to muffle up the sounds as much as she could by holding her hands tight over her ears was forced to sit up. Tears streamed down her cheeks and parted from her lips was a silent whisper, “please, make it stop.”

“Hey. There’s other people living next door now. If they rat us out, we’ll both be fed to Frou-Frou’s beasts.”

“How is that my fault, HUH? You’re the one who ran into me!”

“Oh, come on! You’re always making excuses for yourself. Well I’m sick of it!”

Null scrunched up her face and tried to tense up enough in hopes that their voices would go away.

One other sound leaked through: the creaking of the stairs.

Did those neighbors get in? Are they going to try to kill us?

She heard soft rustling against the carpet of the upstairs hallway. Then, standing at the door, came a hushed voice:

“They sure are loud, aren’t they?”

Null opened one eye and saw Minnow in the doorway. Part of her face was obscured, but Null could still make out her thick, brown eyebrow. She had on a white, button up shirt and some gray sweatpants. A few of the buttons at the top were undone and Null noticed just how wide and supple Minnow’s chest was. Worse, she noticed the peach colored flesh poking through, no fabric underneath the shirt. Null’s mind went wild as she tried to envision the shape of Minnow’s breasts.

Did I ever notice this before? She wondered, before realizing just how inappropriate such thoughts were given the moment at hand.

Null nodded her head and let out a whimper.

Minnow walked into the bedroom. It was quite easy to do when there was no door in or out to begin with.

There’s a story behind that, Null thought, before realizing it was just as likely that there wasn’t.

Minnow sat down beside the sleeping bag where Null was in.

“I can’t get to sleep, either,” Minnow admitted.

“Heh. You too?” Null asked with a forced smile and tried to wipe away her own tears.

“From the sound of things, they’re a couple. To think they’re this hostile to each other.”

“You think so? It’s likely their relationship was having problems even before the apocalypse,” Null suggested.

“That could be. I don’t know them, nor do I want to. It’s just hard to believe they would still be having these problems during desperate times like these. Shouldn’t they set their differences aside and help each other?”

“You would think so, but this is how most couples are.”

“Is that true? That’s a scary thought.”

“Welcome to my world,” Null scoffed.

“AW! FUCK! I JUST CUT MY TOE ON SOME GLASS!” The man, apparently named Henry, shouted.

“THAT’S YOUR OWN DAMN FAULT FOR THROWING SHIT AROUND!”

Their shouting match continued, and on cue, Null broke out into tears once more.

Minnow held out her arms and Null and threw herself into Minnow’s chest and sobbed, getting the thin shirt Minnow had on wet with Null’s salty tears.

The shirt and pants Minnow had on were clothes that the two found in the dresser drawers of the other room. Maybe a resident who lived there before left them there. Maybe Frou-Frou left the clothes for them. Null didn’t pick out any new clothes, as the ones she had grown accustomed to were far too familiar to change out of. Besides, her uniform had a hood in the back. It was like it was made for her.

Minnow wrapped her hands around Null’s back and pressed her tight against her chest.

By some miracle, the two managed to sleep that night.

In the morning, Null took her time in the shower. The first shower she ever had in well over a year. Maybe even a year and a half. The water, while not scorching hot, was a comfortable warmth. She would have preferred hotter, as any hint of cold water on her made her shiver, but she was just grateful to feel any running water on her skin.

All the dirt and dry blood washed off from her. There was a bottle of shampoo, already in the bathroom, and she slathered a handful into her hair, and rubbed the remains all over her. The cloth that had been on her shoulder was no longer there and had been abandoned days ago, but in its place was sensitive, tender skin. The water, while not hot, burned against her shoulder. When the water hit her right arm, she felt a scratching sensation which made her twitch and gave her the urge to itch at what remaining skin she had on her right arm.

But she knew what was up.

“Come on, can’t you bear it?” She glanced down at her right arm and asked the smooth, shell-like texture, with its crimson, brown, and black coloration. It most closely resembled a large scab, only smooth.

She turned the water off a minute later, no longer able to deal with the irritable slime. She pulled the green towel from the bathroom counter and patted her right arm down.

“There? Is that better?” She asked.

She knew it wasn’t better, nor did the slime come out from its hiding. No, the issue was never the water: the issue was that the slime had went without a proper meal for quite some time.

“There’s beasts here. Just hang in there and I’ll try to figure something out, okay?”

“Null! Are you almost done in there?” Minnow called out from downstairs. She had been waiting to wash their clothes, and Null even agreed to wear a simple button up shirt, identical to the one Minnow wore the night prior. It was an unpleasant sacrifice, but if it meant her uniform and skinny jeans would get clean, it was one she was willing to put up with.

“I just got done!” Null called back.

A few minutes later, she marched downstairs in the button up shirt and black slacks that Minnow had laid out for her. They felt stiff. Sure, they were in her size, but they just weren’t the kind of clothes that gave her any sense of joy.

Once downstairs, she was knocked back to the bottom step of the stair upon seeing Frou-Frou at the doorway. He smiled, but she knew it wasn’t because for any joyous reasons.

“Um. G-Good day, Frou-Frou, sir,” Null struggled to get out the words.

“Better,” he said, and glanced over at the approaching Minnow. “And how was your first night? I take it all went well?”

“It could have been better, but thank you for asking,” Minnow answered.

“Oh? What’s the matter? Did you not sleep well?”

“Um. It’s just that we’re not used to sleeping in a new environment!” Null blurted.

Frou-Frou squinted.

“Is that so…?” He asked.

Minnow and Null both nodded. Frou-Frou, however, wasn’t buying it.

“HENRY! IRMA! GET OUT HERE!” He roared.

Shuffling came from next door and when it opened, two scraggly looking middle-aged folks emerged. One, a scrawny guy with a slouch and a near-bald head. He had cuts up the side of his forehead and red stains on his blue turtleneck shirt, with a pair of brown trousers, two sizes too large for him and on the verge of falling down. The other, a frumpy woman with an orange blouse and curly, red hair stood stout. She had bruises on her cheeks and wore an orange turtleneck sweater, followed by blue slacks with holes in them.

“Were you causing problems for our new guests?” Frou-Frou asked, his arms folded. Null noticed something bulging out from his shorts pocket. It was black and thick.

“No, not at all!” The man, Henry, said, backing away and placing his hands in front of him.

“Y-Yeah!” The woman, Irma, backed toward the door as well.

“Is that so?” Frou-Frou raised an eyebrow. It was thin, shaved, may as well not have been there at all.

“We had no problem with them!” Minnow came to their defense, as although she couldn’t tell what the couple was worried for, she still sensed the worry all the same.

“Shut up. They know what they did.”

“We’re not lying!” Henry pleaded. He sounded a lot less angry than Null remembered last night, and more like a lost puppy.

“Is that so?” He pulled out the bulky item from his pocket, a small book with a cross shape on the cover. “Swear it on the bible!”

The couple put their hands on, just as instructed. Their hands shook, and the two gulped, looked at each other.

I’m sorry, was what both likely wanted to say to the other.

“We’re not lying,” they said, with their hands on the bible.

“LIAR!” Frou-Frou leaned over and shouted in their faces, spit catching on both of them. He pulled the bible back and placed it back in his pocket. In his other, he pulled out a portable speaker.

“Dogs. Come over to the duplex,” he said into his speaker and as the couple tried to run back into their duplex, Frou-Frou caught them by their backs with each arm and dragged them into the ground.

“Stop! We said they were innocent!” Minnow begged.

“There’s no need to defend someone who would dare disrespect our safe heaven.”

“Please! Give us another chance!” Irma begged.

“I’ve given you two too many chances. You should have been dog food a long time ago.”

He tossed them out in the middle of the street where three of the beasts Frou-Frou called ‘dogs’ sprinted toward the couple and lunged at them, biting off strips of flesh from their arms and legs, followed by their faces, and soon, their stomach, where the beasts, in a frenzy, acted like they hadn’t eaten in months and were presented with an all-you-can-eat buffet.

“AAAAAAAAAH!” Henry and Irma both screamed and struggled to break free, but the beasts, their mouths wide and clamped down onto the couple’s intestines which the beasts had pulled out and started sucking down their throats.

Null and Minnow tried to cover their eyes and look away. They had already seen part of the bloody mess the two had become, but if they could see no more, it would have been a lucky sight.

“Hey!” Frou-Frou snapped his fingers. “Who said you could look away?”

“B-But!” Null pleaded.

“LOOK AT IT!” Frou-Frou’s voice strained, his muscles tightened, and he shouted right in Null and Minnow’s faces.

They opened their eyes and the two saw the aftermath: only a quick struggle and the couple they had the misfortune of meeting were now limp, covered in red, and half-eaten organs littered on the grounds. One of them had their arms reaching up, but it was hard to tell which one.

The beasts looked up, seeming satisfied. However, their attention was placed on Frou-Frou, and one lunged toward the large, muscular man. He didn’t even flinch, and instead grabbed another device from his pocket and turned the dial, sending electric shocks through all three of the beast’s collars.

The beast who tried to lunge at Frou-Frou fell limp and bowed down.

“I thought I taught you better than that,” he stared down at the beast. His ‘dog’ got up, and the other two stood as well, however much of a struggle it looked to do so. “Good. Send those two corpses to the fire.”

His dogs complied and dragged the remains of Henry and Irma off to the burning garbage heap which Null had first noticed when they entered.

“Let that be a lesson for you ladies: this is what happens when you don’t show respect for others.”

“Understood. Thank you,” the ladies said with a tone of resignation.

Frou-Frou walked off, back to his skyscraper where several of his other dogs were waiting for him. Whatever was left of that couple would become scrap food for the remaining dogs.

While walking off, the rush of adrenaline he felt being when handling that unruly couple began to register in his mind and a smile spread across his lips.

“Heh,” he snickered. “If only we had residents like them more often, people might finally show me some goddamn respect.”

Despite Minnow’s promise, they remained in that duplex for a couple more days.

In the basket Frou-Frou gave them on the first day, she had it filled with changes of clothes, some yarn, and a thin, space-patterned blanket. There was but one more item she wished to bring: a small gourd she had found in one of the cupboards in the kitchen. Ever since the incident in the forest, the two had lost their water bottle. If nothing else, if food became next to impossible to come by, she would make sure the two stayed hydrated.

“Do you see anything you can carry with you?” Minnow asked Null who had been pacing around the living room. “Like a backpack or something?”

“I haven’t seen anything like that,” Null shook her head.

“Hopefully there’s something. If you find anything you’d like to take with us, you had better do so.”

There are many things I want. But since I’m nothing, it should stand to reason that I would also want for nothing, Null thought.

“It’s hard to believe,” Minnow smiled while staring at her basket, “that we’ll be leaving tomorrow. But it’s clear this is something we need to do. This place is too unpredictable.”

“I know. Truth be told, I’m going to miss this domestic life we had,” Null smiled as well, and despite her usual demeanor and the events that had transpired, it was genuine.

“Maybe we can have a life like this again in the future, but in a better environment,” Minnow suggested. At that suggestion, Null’s smile turned sour.

But is there really such a thing as a better environment? She asked herself, already sure that there wasn’t.

Null walked into the kitchen. Just the thought of another environment with different, but equally awful problems, made her mouth dry.

She reached for a glass and poured some water into it from the sink.

Each sip refreshed her, despite the copper aftertaste.

“I just realized: we’ve spend all this time together, yet I know so little about you,” Minnow said, looking up toward Null.

“Oh yeah? Well, I don’t think you’ve really told me much about you, either.”

“You’re right. I guess it’s just that I don’t have much to say about myself. I was always busy taking care of my siblings. But what of you? What was life for you before the calamity?”

“Well...shitty,” Null chuckled and took a sip. She ended up slurping a bit from the glass and making a slight squeak sound. “But you already know that much. I wasn’t equipped for the life my city wanted of me. Jobs didn’t work out, I had no special skills. There was nothing remarkable about me. Nothing.”

She smiled, wistful, and on the verge of tears.

“Well, there’s something remarkable about you now,” Minnow said.

“Maybe there is. But I don’t think enough has changed about me to say that I’m different than how I was then. I was often put in bad situations, but despite my inclination to hide, I could never bring myself to leave. The bad situations would have to leave me first. Just because some left me didn’t mean they all did. Why do you think I stayed with my parents so long after adulthood? I’m still sure that in their own way, they loved me, but I can’t deny they weren’t a good influence. But they were familiar, and being anywhere else was far too scary.”

That’s a lie, too, Null thought, I ran away multiple times. It’s just that I never stayed gone for long.

“One day, Null, we’ll find proper love. We’ll find an environment good for us. We’ll find calm amid the chaos, we’ll be good for each other…”

What am I saying? Minnow asked herself. She had to stop herself before she became trapped in her daydreams. I’m not naive. Do I really believe any of this can happen? Isn’t it all a faraway dream that I only wish could become a reality?

Null refilled her water. She knew herself well enough that if she joined in on those musings, she might start to hope for them as well. Hoping for better things was always such a frightening endeavor. Especially when those very things didn’t come to pass.

“Good day to you two,” Frou-Frou marched through the door with a sing-song voice. At the same moment he walked in, Null took a sip from her water and her lips pressed against the glass, producing a slurp sound.

“What the hell…” his voice trailed. Whatever pleasantries he carried faded and his cheery marching turned into a pounding stomp against the carpet.

“DID YOU JUST FUCKING SLURP?!” He shouted, his voice booming.

Null had set her glass down, and on reflex, still thinking of that impossible future with Minnow, she smiled.

“What’s so funny, HUH?!” He shouted in her face.

Tears began to fill Null’s eyes.

He was in the kitchen now, up to her face, looking down with a molten intensity.

“What’s your problem?” Minnow stood up. “It’s not a big deal.”

“NOT A BIG DEAL?! SLURPING IS FUCKING RUDE!” His booming voice turned its attention toward Minnow.

“Please! It was me, not her!” Null begged, tears flying out of her face now.

Frou-Frou’s fists clenched.

“I’ll teach you to slurp in my presence!” he huffed and took a swing of his fist in Null’s direction.

She, no, Minnow, was knocked to the kitchen floor.

Minnow, who had noticed his fists clenched, managed to jump in front of Null in time and took the hit in Null’s place. She hit the tile floor with a thud, turning the side of her forehead red. Her head ached as she picked herself up, and Null noticed a dark, purple bruise on Minnow’s cheek.

The sight was enough to make Null cry harder.

“You’re lucky your friend got in the way!” He pointed his beefy finger at Null as his hand shook. Then, he turned his attention toward Minnow and raised his voice:

“YOU! YOU BETTER TEACH YOUR BITCH SOME RESPECT!”

“Excuse me?” Minnow’s voice sharpened. She scowled and tried to keep her cool. She didn’t shout back at him, and tried to suck in whatever tears were trying to make her way up. “Null’s not like one of your dogs!”

“One more remark like that and you’ll both be dog food,” he lowered his voice, but the intensity had not wavered. Null still felt the fiery venom of his tense voice wafting through the air.

He stomped back out of the duplex and slammed the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, the tears ran down Minnow’s cheeks. The two looked at each other, and this time, their thoughts were on the same page.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Alternative) Mocha Venti

Null had her laptop open on the table where she sat at her favorite coffee shop. There was a mug of coffee (a mocha with oat milk) beside the laptop. Maybe she should have been worried about how close it was, especially with her history of clumsiness. For whatever reason, she felt no worry, and sipped her coffee in between trying to write her story.

She had this horror-fantasy type story going on where the main character shared her name and likeness. That is, the character’s name was Null Void, and she had messy, red hair and was rather on the frail-looking side (whatever that meant).

Of course, the story version of Null had a different personality than the actual Null. For one, Null was nowhere near as anxious as her story counterpart, being on the ‘rather well-adjusted’ side, as she has self-proclaimed many times. Null was also not quite as afraid of things as her story version. The only things that scared her were normal things that anyone was afraid of, like crossing the street at an intersection or missing deadlines.

As for why she opted to choose her own name and likeness for this character, as some would be quick to point out how self-indulgent that was (and it was), the answer was rather simple: she had trouble coming up with names for characters and never liked having to describe a character’s appearance.

Ah, now where was I? Null thought while sipping from her mug. The frothy cream got on her upper lip, but screw it, she wasn’t about to wipe it off and make a fool of herself at her favorite establishment. Leave it to someone else to embarrass her.

On her word document so far were the following words:

“Null was never a very fast runner, but she didn’t need to be. Even as she tripped on pebbles and sticks, almost being caught by the beast chasing her, she threw off the uniform, tossed it aside, and let the slime on her arm take over.

‘I promised you I’d find you another beast to fight,’ Null told her irksome companion. On cue, the slime transformed into a blade and Null swerved around in time to face up against the sight before her with the wide open mouth and the tendrils which danced around like worms.

Ew. Ew. Ew, Null felt ready to toss up what little food she had in her system. The beast’s breath was rancid, and it didn’t matter that the slime pulled her right arm in front of her and slashed forth just in time to block the claws of the strange gray mass.”

Yeah. Things were getting good. However, when she went to take a sip of her coffee, she found it empty.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath.

Not only that, but her stomach was growling.

“Fuck. If it’s not one thing, it’s another, and it’s always something, isn’t it?” She groaned, and got up from her seat.

She didn’t worry about her laptop being stolen, as she wasn’t far from the front counter. She wasn’t concerned about the fruit flies buzzing around the pastries (what cafe didn’t have flies buzzing around the pastries?) and the thought of the espresso machine breaking down never crossed her mind.

“Hey, uh, hmm,” she tried getting the barista’s (she never understood why they were called that and not ‘drink artist’ or something like that) attention. The coffee shop was owned by the very same barista who came up to the front counter: a short, elderly woman named Hollyhock who had a green, floral pattern dress on and big, poofy gray hair.

She walked toward the counter from the break room in the back. However, there was someone else accompanying her: a wavy brown-haired young lady who happened to stand just a little bit taller than Hollyhock. This young lady had on a green apron over her blue blouse and purple felt miniskirt.

“This is my granddaughter, Minnow,” Hollyhock introduced the young woman to Null, “she’ll be helping out here from time to time.”

Uh-huh. Neat. I just want my damn coffee, Null thought, but of course, she wasn’t going to say something like that. She wasn’t rude out loud.

“Nice to meet you,” Null said instead, even if her tone was a tad bit dull.

“Yeah, same,” Minnow replied in utter disinterest, and rolled her eyes to boot. Still, Null took note of Minnow’s soft voice.

“So, what can I get for you, Null?” Hollyhock asked.

“Right. Uh. Refill of my coffee, please,” Null felt like she was suffocating. It was always easier to order something when it was only one person at the counter.

“Care to enter that in, Minnow?” Hollyhock turned to her granddaughter.

“Sure,” Minnow shrugged and walked over to the screen.

She stared at the screen with a great intensity that it was noticeable even to Null, who wasn’t always the best at noticing things. She thought Minnow might end up burning a whole in the monitor.

“Um...granny? Where’s the oat button?” Minnow asked.

“Right there, dearie.”

“And where’s the button for refill?”

Null started tapping her foot. She knew to be patient with new people, but she really wanted her coffee and to just get done with paying for it. She stopped tapping her foot after a few taps, as she noticed other people might have heard her and might have thought about how rude Null was being. She couldn’t be having people think she’s rude. It was bad enough when people thought of her at all.

While waiting, Null took notice of the pastries, and her stomach growled.

Right. I am a little hungry, she remembered.

“Can I get a chocolate croissant, too?” Null added.

“Quaso,” Minnow muttered in a squeaky voice.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Minnow glanced over at Null with an annoyed voice, before snickering and repeating in that same voice from before “quaso.”

Is she making fun of me? Why? What did I do to deserve this? Oh, whatever, Null thought, and, as much as she would rather not admit it, worried.

“Um, granny, where’s the croissant button?” Minnow then asked Hollyhock.

The ordeal took another few minutes but once Null sat back at her table waiting for the coffee and chocolate croissant, she realized it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, Minnow was kind of cute.

Even if she was rude, Null added in her thoughts.

She began to type, but stopped when her coffee and croissant arrived. Minnow, with her apron, swayed her hips as she moved, and it was rather distracting, as Null would rather focus on the delicious croissant.

“Here you go,” Minnow set down the mug of coffee. The cream was in the shape of a heart. When Null noticed this, her own heart did a funky dance.

“Did you pour the cream?” Null just had to know.

“Yeah, granny showed me how. She said I should do that for everyone’s coffee. I don’t know, seems tacky, but I guess I ought to know this stuff if I’m going to work here,” Minnow replied before walking away.

Wow. I can’t believe it. She drew a heart in my coffee. She must really like me, Null thought, and blushed, before returning to her screen.

Maybe I’ll write Minnow in as Null’s love interest. Not me, obviously, as I just met this person, but the character Null. I was planning on giving Null a love interest in the first place, being that it’s a common staple in the horror genre.

With that in mind, Null got to work:

“Minnow spread her mouth wide and could have cried out in relief then and there. She also spread her arms out wide but before she went in for a hug, she stopped herself.

‘Would it be okay if I hugged you?’ Minnow asked instead.

‘Um…’ The redhead looked down.

‘You can say no,’ Minnow repeated herself from before.

‘Are you sure?’

‘It’s your body, not mine,’ Minnow tried to reassure her new companion, even as she thought, but your life is mine.

‘In that case...sorry. I think I’ve had enough physical contact for one day.’

Minnow frowned and lowered her arms. Her companion must have spotted that as she raised her arms and had a worrisome look on her face.

‘We can hug! I’m sorry!’

Minnow smiled and shook her head, ‘your comfort is more important. I would be more disappointed to know that I was forcing you to do something you weren’t comfortable with.’

‘Well...I’m not comfortable with anything!’

‘Then I hope I can help you be more comfortable.’

Her companion pulled a wrapper from the pocket of her uniform and tore it open. Minnow spotted that it was a granola bar. Her companion reached toward Minnow and said, “do you want this granola bar?’

Minnow, surprised by such a gesture, was about to pull off a chunk from it before her companion pulled it back.”

Null leaned back in her seat and sipped her coffee. For added measure, she cracked her knuckles, then cracked her neck, as it was getting stiff.

Wow, it’s like Lady Luck is on my side. I finally got a name for Null’s love interest, and I can even base her appearance off of...my love interest? No. Not at all. Let’s stop that thinking. Let’s think about other things. Like how short her nails were, or how soft her hair must be, or how cute her clothes were...aaah I’m thinking about it again. Okay. Let’s think about story stuff. You’re good at that.

My horror tends to center around obsession more than anything. Like, sure, the monsters are there, and there’s blood. Sometimes suspense. All well and good. But the obsession, the drive to be so focused on something or someone...that’s horror to me. Obsessing over minor details, or maybe obsessing over whether you forgot to do something before you left the house. Obsessing over someone...right. Like I’m doing right now with Minnow.

What if she were to come over here and saw that I typed her name as one of my characters? What if she saw the descriptions of gore and thought I was some kind of weirdo? That would just kill me, I think. I should probably change her name, or at least make it more discrete. Is it discrete or discreet? Oh, I don’t give a flying fuck. Yeah, I’ll change her name to something like Menou. The resemblance isn’t there at all. Brilliant.

That way, now I can keep making my story in this coffee shop without worrying about whether or not she sees it and starts judging the contents. And that way, maybe on a random day, she’ll be on break and decide to sit across from me and we’ll sit over coffee, chat things up. Next thing you know, we’re in a relationship. That’s right. With kissing and hugging and...you get the idea. I don’t have to spell everything out. It’s just, I can definitely tell that...I’m...losing it.

Right. I’m not going to play out my own horror stories. I’m not going to let this turn into an obsession.

After that exhaustive internal monologue, Null saved her document, folded down her laptop and put it in her bag and said, quietly, mind you:

“Yep. That’s enough coffee for me.”

After putting her mug in the dish bin (some called it a bus but Null never understood why), she walked out the door. Once outside, and once she was sure no one was around to hear her, she announced:

“Yep. Never going to this coffee shop again.”

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 8

Null couldn’t tell whether she sat in a sea of fire or a room full of flesh: all she knew was that her surroundings moved about, and was red. Worse, it burned, and she broke into a deep sweat.

Above her, shapes floated about in what she could only describe as organs: spleens, lungs, livers, kidneys, stomachs, or...something which resembled those things. Then again, they looked as much like noodles as they did anything else.

Those images faded, and any source of light from those images faded along with them. Still, Null felt the burning sensation, as if all that really went away was the light source.

“Am I back in the cave?” Null asked, but her voice didn’t sound the way she was used to it sounding, and resembled instead a low croak. As if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs, and she struggled to even get out a word. Yet she was able to form several words, with the same amount of ease as usual, only much slower than she was used to. “Where did Minnow go? What did I see?”

Half of her vision was obscured, and it looked grayed out, when she stared down at her lap to see a large, muddy bloodstain over her uniform and jeans.

Heavy panting.

The sound of heartbeats echoed and bounced around her. It would have driven her mad, were it not for a flicker of a white light from above. She stared up at not the cave wall, but an endless chasm of nothingness.

As the white light descended, it took the shape of a tall, pale woman with long, flowing brown hair. From the top of her head were thick, twisted horns. On the woman’s back were tattered, leathery wings with maggots wriggling about and flies which buzzed around said wings. Upon her lower back was a thin, long tail with a sprouting dandelion flower at the tip of the wing. It pulsated and went from thin to thick, and Null thought she saw visible veins protrude from the wings.

The woman floated over next to the seated Null and with her long-nailed fingers, stroked Null’s chin and with one finger, had Null raise her head to view the infernal beauty.

Null’s eyes bounced about, trying not to stare at the naked figure before her and the burning sensation she felt the more she stared. She not only stared at the beauty, but stared at herself, from the outside, paralyzed in terror, not even managing a shiver.

Long, slender legs, a soft, plump belly, and petite breasts.

There was nowhere for her to stare which didn’t elicit a feeling of shame.

Unable to do much else, and despite whispered warnings around her not to look up, she stared into the woman’s evergreen eyes. She saw as the woman had two fangs poking out from her crimson lips, which curled into a sly smile.

“Oh, you poor little girl,” the woman sighed out, almost sing-song, and Null thought the voice sounded familiar, yet she couldn’t place where. “You have been in pain for so long.”

“Succubus,” Null whispered, only able to release that single word.

“So fragile, you are. One couldn’t blame you for not wanting to go on any longer,” the woman cooed, and ignored the accusation Null made. “Once you give yourself to me, you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You will be safe here.”

Null tried to struggle free and move, but she felt like she was encased in stone.

“I want to. I want to give in. I want to be safe. But...Minnow,” Null whimpered, even as she noticed that her lips never moved at all. She couldn’t even be sure if it was her who said that.

The woman/succubus echoed out a mercurial laugh and lowered herself down to Null’s lap. She  wrapped her arms around Null’s neck and stroked each side with her sharp fingers. The sensation felt cold, yet also hot at the same time, as cuts formed along the sides of her neck.

“I understand, dear. Leave everything to me,” the succubus promised.

“No!” Null shouted and plunged her arm into the woman’s chest, as she felt her warm and wet insides decorate her flesh. Along her arm was the blade that her slime had formed, and it absorbed the blood. The succubus, head leaning against Null’s ear, wheezed:

“Why…?”

At last, Null placed whose voice it had been and she held the succubus out in front of her, only to reveal the form of Minnow, clothed in her blue and white blouse, all bloodied up.

Minnow slumped forward, and blood seeped from her mouth. The sight strained Null’s eyes and almost drove her to tears. She kept focusing on the bloodied chest, the blade through her torso, and couldn’t help but think: I did this.

“MIN –” Null shouted, harder than ever, and leaned forward, in desperation.

“– NOW!” Null jolted forward, eyes wide as her heart pounded at an accelerated rate. She had awakened.

All around her, the sunlight of dawn seeped through and the gray, smooth stone was almost a welcome sight. ‘Almost’ was the keyword, as she looked around, yet unable to see Minnow in sight. The image of her impaled and dying frame continued to flash in front of her.

That burning sensation from her dream persisted, and her eyelids were heavy. It was nauseating, it made her think of herself as an inflated balloon full of boiling water, just bobbing about in the air.

Below, a shuffling of movement pressed against Null’s lap. She looked down and saw the thick, brown hair cover the head of someone familiar.

“Minnow!” Null cried, and her heart continued to race.

“Nng,” Minnow grunted, and turned herself toward Null until she looked up at her grapefruit haired companion. In a whisper, she replied with:

“Yes, dear?”

“Tch,” Null scoffed, and looked away, “what’s with this ‘dear’ business?”

Minnow propped her hands against Null’s lap and pulled herself up. She sat, albeit in a slant, and yawned.

Null looked down and gasped: upon Minnow’s blouse was a bloodstain.

“Minnow! Blood!” Null pointed. “What happened to you? Are you okay? Is this my fault?”

Minnow stared down at her blouse, then back into Null’s eyes.

“It’s not my blood,” Minnow closed her eyes, smiled, and shook her head. “Remember last night?”

Null didn’t have to be reminded: the pounding, stinging sensation acted up and Null glanced over to her shoulder, which was bandaged tight, and stained with a reddish-brown hue.

She winced, then turned her attention back to Minnow.

“Haa...haa…” Null let out deep breaths, “so it was a dream. Good.”

Oh, don’t start making that voice so early in the morning. I’ll want to hear it more, Minnow thought before sitting up and she tilted her head, perplexed. That aside, there’s something else about her voice that’s a little more troublesome. Nasally? Or...dull?

Minnow leaned close to Null and placed her palm over Null’s forehead.

“Uh? Uh? What are you doing?” Null whimpered, and tried to reach up to pull Minnow’s arm away, but having used her left arm, felt an immediate sharp pain. “Ack!”

Besides, it had already been too late. Minnow had the full weight of her palm pressed against Null’s forehead.

“This isn’t good,” Minnow whispered. She imagined that if she pulled her arm away, there would be an imprint left, along with a sizzling sound, and a harsh smoke.

“What? What’s not good?” Null asked. In her mind, it was the same panic she always had, but to Minnow’s ears, they were slurred words which almost bled into each other.

“You have a fever, Null,” Minnow explained.

Once Minnow said it out loud, it all became clear: that burning sensation, that dream, the way her heart raced, and worst of all…

Null squinted her face tight as her head pounded.

“I also have a headache,” she groaned.

“I think a fever is worse,” Minnow said.

“So mean. You don’t care that I have a headache?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, in fact, you probably have a headache because you have a fever.”

“I see. Yes. That would make sense,” Null looked down. Whatever bright dawn she woke up to was shattered by the weary, blurry vision she possessed, induced by her fever. “Fucking splendid...on top of the hunger and the beasts, I also have to deal with sickness.”

“I’m sure it’s because of being out in the rain, and your injury last night probably didn’t help,” Minnow suggested.

“Will my body fight off this infection? Or will I succumb to my illness and pass away?”

“I think it’s just a cold, Null.”

“People used to die from colds. At least, I’m pretty sure.”

Minnow sighed. She wished it had been one of those lovely sighs, like the moans and whimpers Null made, but instead, it was just the short, frustrated sigh.

“You’re right. It’s possible. But my stance hasn’t changed: I won’t leave your side if that happens.”

Null looked down beside her, to the left. There was nothing to stare at, nothing to ponder. For all intents and purposes, she just wanted to look away.

“If anything, I’m just glad you’re alive,” she muttered.

“We’re both alive, Null. I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

Minnow could make such bold declarations with ease, but the fact of the matter was that her backpack didn’t contain any aspirin. She didn’t have the means to start a small fire in order to boil water. There wasn’t anything she could think to do.

Butt here has to be something, Minnow concluded before staring into Null’s eyes and asking:

“What, pray tell, would you do if I was sick?”

Null’s head throbbed and thoughts faded before they could fully form. She, at best, had a blurred vision of the otherwise brunette beauty that she was so used to. The lack of clarity didn’t bother her, but what did was that the question still floated in the air, and Null grasped at any form of an answer.

“I don’t know much, but I’d be really scared,” Null’s dull, drawled out words crept out of her absent mouth, “like if I could manage to do anything at all...I guess I’d try anything.”

Minnow had a hard time understanding Null’s answer at first, but after a minute of silence, she nodded.

“Then that too is what I shall do. I’ll try to gather some food, maybe I’ll get lucky and find a mint leaf. Or if I could find some dry wood, maybe I could start a fire, boil some water, oh...screw it. I’ll figure out something. Even the littlest thing should help, should it not?”

“I...guess?” Null groaned as her eyelids fluttered, almost slamming themselves shut a few times.

Minnow crawled back, and as she began to descend from the cave entrance, Null’s eyes sprung wide open and she gasped.

“What are you doing?!” Null cried and jerked herself forward, only to regret it when a sharp pain in her head erupted and sent her right back against the wall.

“I have to go down into the woods to find things. You should lay down and rest. That’s going to help you the most right now.”

“But what about the beasts?” Null asked and held her palm up to her forehead as the pain in both her head and shoulder tightened.

“I’ll be careful. And if need be, I’ll scream. Make sure to have the blanket over you. Even if you feel hot, or even if you shiver, the blanket will help you.”

“But –”

Minnow descended without another word.

Being careful isn’t enough, Null managed to think before sinking down against the stone floor and laying flat on her back with the blanket over her, just as her companion told her to do.

“I wonder: is she mad that I gave the wrong answer? What should I have said?” Null asked aloud, half-hoping the slime would pop out from her sleeve and provide some sort of soundboard to bounce thoughts off of. Alas, the slime never did pop out.

Head still pounding, shoulder still aching, she raised her right arm over her chest and undid the zipper, herself, only to see the scab-like surface of the hardened slime.

“She’s gone, you know? Or maybe you’re sick, too...do we share the same health status? I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault again. I fucked up. If I had taken the blanket on that rainy night. If I woke up Minnow to tell her I was going to the bathroom. If I was more careful and more proactive, my shoulder wouldn’t be in such pain, and if I did all three of those things right, I wouldn’t be sick. I’m sure of it.”

Her words came out in a near-whisper and she started to weep, only for her to wipe away her eyes each time before she could break out into full sobs.

“I’m like a baby. I’m so useless. Making her do everything for me and all I’m supposed to do is rest and I can’t even do that, because what if a beast gets her? Wouldn’t that be my fault, too? But I’m too weak to get up, too weak to do anything. What’s to become of me?”

Null tried closing her eyes tight and working her way to sleep. She found herself drifting off, almost in some other kind of shadowy, burning dream, when the throbbing pain returned, and she jolted up with an itch in her throat as she began to cough.

She reached for the water bottle next to Minnow’s backpack and shook it. When she heard water sloshing about, she undid the nozzle and sipped. She still coughed, but her mouth felt a little less dry than before. It was almost a relief until she came upon a sudden realization: Minnow didn’t take the water bottle with her.

How is she supposed to get water? She wondered, without a clear answer.

Water wasn’t far from Minnow’s mind as she walked around the forest floor, turning her head in every direction. Sometimes she turned back and looked up at the cave, praying that Null was resting just as she was told to do.

So far there had been no signs of any beast.

It wasn’t a soundless area, as the rustling of leaves from the wind and the soft whistle between the branches of trees served to remind her. They were delightful sounds, not the growling or ringing that indicated a beast was near.

From one of the bushes came a rustle, which caused Minnow to leap in place. It was a small bush, one which housed black widow spiders and large mosquitoes alike. Minnow had no way to know that, but she knew enough to worry about what could pop out from the bush.

Neither Minnow nor Null had seen any semblance of the old ecosystem from back before the beasts emerged. Just the other day, they had a conversation about the very thing. Both of them foraged for berries and watched each other’s backs for danger. In the midst of their forage, Null spoke up, her timid and mousy voice which Minnow so adored:

“I miss honey,” she said while plucking a blackberry from a bush of thorns.

“Honey?” Minnow turned to her companion. In that brief window, the two were most vulnerable.

“Yeah. Do you remember bees? They were scary, but they made honey.”

“Yeah. Honey bees did that. I remember.”

“Do bees even exist anymore? Or maybe they were replaced by bee-like beasts? Like, imagine there’s this giant honeycomb trap that people go into and giant bee-beasts are there and dissolve people into honey.”

“Oh, no. I can’t. That’s far too frightening.”

“You’re scared? Try being the one who thought of it first!”

The two shared a soft laugh as they reached for the same berry and their palms brushed up against each other.

Just thinking about that moment from yesterday made Minnow’s cheeks a little red, almost as if she caught the same fever which Null carried.

I hope more moments like that can happen once Null is all better, she thought to herself.

Minnow stood behind a tree, still fearful of whatever caused the rustling in the bush. She looked up to see if she could climb said tree, but saw no such places to reach for or prop her foot against.

From the bush where Minnow heard the rustling, a gray shadow leaped out and when the shadow landed on the ground, she saw what looked to be a small rabbit with short ears. The rabbit hopped away and Minnow’s eyes traced the direction it hopped in until the rabbit disappeared.

Her first instinct, for whatever reason, was to chase the rabbit. The only thing that stopped her was the possibility that the rabbit might have been some kind of trap, laid out by a scheming beast. That, or the rabbit itself wasn’t a rabbit at all but some vicious beast who hid its form through an adorable veneer.

For that reason, Minnow didn’t leave the confines of the tree she thought she was safe behind until she could no longer see a trace of that rabbit...or whatever it truly was. Of course, there was a moment where Minnow imagined the tree sprouting arms and grabbing her. Maybe it would have even lifted her up into the treetop and the branches would pierce their way through her.

That never came to pass, but she still shuddered before pressing on.

Come on. I have to focus. Null is counting on me.

From further out, Minnow spotted a pile of dry sticks littered about the floor. She picked up a bundle and hurried back toward Null.

With this, maybe I can start a fire. And then, I can heat up some water to give to Null. It should alleviate her fever.

As she hurried back, she almost tripped upon a loose vine sticking out from the ground, but she managed to regain her footing and carry on.

When she drew closer to the cliff side, she stopped in place and almost dropped the sticks, in shock of what she saw above: Null was climbing downward from the cave, wrapped in the blanket, and the water bottle in her hand.

While climbing down, one of the rocks Null had propped her hand on broke off, and in a daze, she fell back.

“No!” Minnow shouted and tossed the sticks on the ground. Their potential salvation mattered little if one of them died before they ever saw any use.

Null dropped down...into Minnow’s arms and the two fell over. Minnow’s arms were yanked down, squished under Null’s weight.

“Oww…” Null whined, her voice dry.

“Are you okay?! What were you thinking?!” Minnow shouted.

Null turned her head toward Minnow and held the water bottle out.

“I brought you your water bottle,” Null gestured.

“Null, you fool! You could have died!”

Null looked away from Minnow and fixed her gaze downward.

“I’m sorry…”

“You’re sick! You should be taking care of yourself!”

“I know. I’m not good at that, though.”

Null’s eyes began to turn misty as she felt tears coming.

I shouldn’t have yelled. I need to fix this somehow, Minnow thought. But before she could figure out how to do just that, pounding stamps drummed up on the forest floor and caused two young women to bounce where they sat. Trees crashed from nearby and both of them looked in the direction of the crash. The faint, glowing red eyes nearby was what first drew their attention before the large beast charged through the last of the trees separating the beast from the clearing where the two young women sat.

It resembled a beetle, but towering, as tall as a tank, and with a shell just as sturdy. In front were two large, scissor-like pincers, and under the shell, where the mouth surely was, a series of tentacles flapped about. Almost like a millipede, the beast had many, short, stubby legs, which despite the large frame, kept the beast firmly on the ground as it moved about.

“Quick! I’ll carry you in my arms!” Minnow shouted, just the thing she didn’t want to do.

“Are you sure? I’m heavy,” Null asked, as if the beast nearby was of no consequence.

“Yes, I’m sure! I can do it! I have to!”

Minnow lifted Null up, almost throwing her into the air, as she caught Null back in her arms and the two ran from the beast. Behind them, trees continued to be knocked down.

At one point, she thought she felt one of the creature’s tentacles brush up against her back. Another, the pincers snipped away and almost caught against the fabric of Minnow’s blouse. She picked up speed and her heart raced, but she wasn’t sure what else to do beyond that.

Working something out, she turned to the right, deeper into the recesses of the forest, and further away from the cavern which the two had called home just before.

It doesn’t matter. Whatever shelter we find, as long as we’re together, we’re home, Minnow tried to think, even as the more prevalent thought was, is there really no hope for us?

For a moment, the two were safer and brought some distance between them and the beast. But not far behind, the beast swerved and began to crash through the trees, still seeking the two out.

“I’m sorry...I’m such a burden,” Null groaned.

“You’re a burden I want to bear,” Minnow declared, not quite in a shout, but still in a hurried gasp of words.

“Once again, you’re strange…” Null muttered and closed her eyes.

If the circumstances were different, Minnow could have focused on the fact that she held one hand under Null’s thighs, and the other hand under the back of Null’s neck. How warm Null must have felt, and the sweat dripping down from both of them was enough of a thrill that a beast was never needed. Oh, but it was the beast that allowed for such an opportunity.

The beast, cutting along from the side, rushed through and almost hit Minnow. The side of the beast, with its large frame, caused a gust of wind which blew so hard that Minnow tripped down. She thought, then, that would be the end, but Null, as feeble as she was in her current state, reached her right arm out and held the two up against a tree.

“Th-Thanks,” Minnow gasped, and pressed on.

Null said nothing in return, but with the beast so close behind them, Minnow almost preferred it that way.

The chase continued, however, further down came the image of a large, white pristine two-storey house in the middle of the woods, with green paneling and a green tile roof.

The strange sight wasn’t lost on Minnow, but if such a thing could be their salvation, she would take it.

Minnow charged toward the house, which she thought surely, was unoccupied. Between dark brown trees with their turquoise vines and seaweed green leaves, she shoved herself past.

She was just a couple paces from the entrance, but as she reached the steps, she tripped down as her ankle twisted and the two fell to the ground. Null rolled to the ground and hit her back against the first stair leading to the door.

No. No. We were so close, Minnow began to weep and tried to speak out what her thoughts said, but all that came out were incoherent sounds. Behind her, the beast stood up on a series of hind legs and a shadow covered the two young ladies.

Null pushed herself up, noticed the towering beast with its soft underbelly and many short, but sharp legs, and even through her pounding headache and fever, reached for Minnow and pulled her up.

Minnow looked up at Null, tears in her eyes, and awestruck.

There she is, sick, and still thinking of helping me. What did I ever do to deserve that? She wondered, but didn’t linger on it too long as the two shoved their way through the house’s front door.

They entered and slammed the door behind them, crashing into the white carpeted floor. It felt inviting. It felt like silkworms.

Minnow looked back toward the door, and how there was a small stained glass window at the top of the door. In the reflection, she caught the shadow of the large beast run past and once it was out of sight, she turned back to Null even as her heart continued to leap in her chest.

She crawled toward Null, who laid flat on her back over the blanket, and sat over Null’s waist, legs spread to the side. Short on breath, she huffed and let out brisk breaths.

“Haa...Null...is the water bottle empty?” She asked.

Null, her eyes half-open lifted the water bottle beside her and shook it.

“Uh. No. Why?” Null asked.

Minnow snatched the water bottle out of Null’s hand and leaned down over Null’s face.

“It may not be hot, but it’s still important to stay hydrated. Now, open your mouth, please.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m going to help you feel better,” Minnow said while unscrewing the cap of the water bottle. Null gulped, but opened her mouth. Minnow pressed the water bottle against Null’s lips and tilted it until a steady stream of water flowed into her mouth.

After a few seconds, Minnow lifted the bottle and screwed the cap back on. Not all of the water had been depleted but that would have to do for now, so as to conserve what she had.

Exhaustion set in, and Minnow fell back and laid beside Null.

Null began to cough and turned to the side, hacking away and spitting drops of water as she did so.

“Ack. Went down the wrong pipe,” she wheezed.

“Are you going to be okay?” Minnow asked.

“How the hell should I know?” Null retorted. For whatever reason, that caused Minnow to laugh just a little.

Without turning to the side, Minnow reached her arm out to feel Null’s forehead. Before she could touch Null’s forehead, her right arm grabbed Minnow’s wrist and stopped her.

“Don’t touch me,” Null said, and Minnow was taken aback, but nodded. She wasn’t used to seeing Null so assertive, but it was a welcome change of pace. If she’s like that when she’s sick, maybe she should get sick more often...

“Right. Sorry.”

“Let’s just lay here for now. I just want to...lay here.”

The two laid beside each other in silence.

Minutes passed and without looking over, Minnow assumed Null had fallen asleep. However, Null ended up speaking after all:

“It’s strange.”

“What is?” Minnow replied.

“I’m remembering something. Something I’d rather not. I guess that’s what being sick is all about.”

“What are you remembering?”

“I think I had just got done with high school. I barely graduated. Meanwhile, in celebration of my brother earning his degree at the Clock Tower University, my parents, along with my brother, dragged me to some amusement park to celebrate his success. I didn’t want to go, but mom insisted, because she said how I needed to leave my room from time to time. I remember passing by a fortune teller, and she said she was interested in reading my fortune for free.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah. I think it was because my mom was enough of a distance ahead of me that I thought I could speak up for myself. I didn’t really believe in psychics or fortune tellers, and when that lady took my palm and gave me my fortune, I still wasn’t a believer. I mean, the thing she said was ridiculous...actually, I don’t want to recall any more.”

“That’s okay, Null. You don’t have to.”

“I will, though.”

“Oh.”

“So she said something like, ‘you will die soon after kissing the one you love.’ That was when my mom showed up and laughed, saying something like, ‘yeah, right. As if anyone would love her. At this point, the only way she’s going to get by in life is if she marries someone for their money.’ I doubt I’d ever stoop so low to do that, but...my mom was right, at least.”

“I want to punch your mom.”

“If you want to punch a corpse, go right ahead.”

“What about your dad?”

“I think he was far off with my brother. They were having one of those men bonding moments or something. Thank goodness it was only my mom there, or I might have been the one being punched.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You couldn’t have known.”

“You’re right.”

“So, I think I killed an innocent person,” Null huffed out.

Minnow was shocked to hear such words.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“Well, out of curiosity, I asked the fortune tell her how I’d die.”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing, actually. She paused, let out a hum, then a gasp, and fell over in her seat. Paramedics and her coworkers surrounded her and pronounced her dead. I just stood there, not understanding what happened, exactly, and someone at the amusement park tried to reassure me by saying that it was bound to happen eventually. How she ate a lot of big burgers and other greasy foods, how she’d joke about her doctor warning her about her heart, and for that, I shouldn’t blame myself that she had a heart attack. I just stood there and said that I didn’t blame myself, and that I was just confused.”

“That must have been hard to watch.”

“I don’t know. I barely remembered it until just now. I don’t even know why it popped in my head.”

“It must mean something to you,” Minnow suggested.

“Imagine someone falling in love with me. Couldn’t be me,” Null let out a weak chuckle.

“Imagine your heart fluttering when you see someone. Feeling so safe next to them, and entrusting both your body and soul to them.”

“I know, right? So dangerous.”

The two sighed in unison. Then, seeing how far she could push the topic, Minnow asked:

“What do you think would happen if we kissed?”

“We’d probably bonk our heads and it would hurt real bad. I don’t know if we’d die, though.”

“I wouldn’t mind dying if we died at the same time.”

“That’s just like you.”

Minnow raised her arm up and stretched out her hand.

“What do you think your parents would say if they found out about us?” Minnow asked.

“I don’t think they’d say anything. They’re dead.”

Right. That only makes sense. Meanwhile, if Lily and Gill were still alive, I would have loved to show Null off to them. If only.

There were a few more moments of silence before Minnow turned and noticed Null, fast asleep.

It was by then that Minnow sat up and looked around the house: less pristine, like she thought on the outside, and more of a sterile, white. Like a hospital room. There was little there in the way of furniture, save for some mahogany rocking chairs and a flannel patterned sofa. On some white coffee tables were vases of wilted flowers. Framed white canvases, and the kitchen itself, was nothing but white counters and white cupboards.

This place is suffocating, Minnow thought, but at the same time, if it’s abandoned, maybe the two of us could make it our home. Or at least for a little while, we could forget about the beasts. Maybe we could even decorate the place.

It was a fanciful enough dream, but for now, Minnow covered Null with part of the blanket, and allowed her the silence needed to get a good rest.

[bluepenguinstories]

(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.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 10

Pynchon once had a name he called his own.

But when he stared out from the tree stump he stood on, he wondered why he ever called himself anything.

His back was turned to a group, all in white cloaks. Everyone was looking forward to the day, he even fooled himself into rejoicing. There were six others behind him, and they turned every which way to stare at the damage done. That same damage which they all wished for. He was no different, he was complicit. That much was known, has been known for a few years now.

The sky was blanketed with a thin cloud of smoke and soot rained down. He saw several fumes billowing up, far away toward a civilization that might have once been.

It’s far too quiet. Did we all sleep during the collapse? What is left of us?

Despite the sunglasses he wore over his head shaved bald, his eyes were wide and the image was seared into his retinas. Little red streaks of veins filled his eyes and tears fell without him registering that they were tears at all. Indeed, despite the sting, they came off as little more to him than a mild allergic reaction.

In the distance, but not nearly as far, the Rockies had all toppled over, taking down several evergreen trees with it. Nay, those trees, once evergreen, were withered in the very same instant as the rest of the collapse. He caught a glint, a faint glimmer, of a lake, or some body of water, also covered in soot.

Surrounding the church members, him included, were dead beetles, lying on their backs, legs stood up stiff.

Yes, he knew what such a wish entailed, but like Joyce, he just thought of it as a practical joke that everyone was in on. Just some fun little get together with horrible implications.

His bushy, black eyebrows, his soft and pink cracked lips which trembled while he remained motionless. There was a last chance of salvation in his pocket, but at the moment, all he could think was:

“We did this.”

He was the second member of the church.

Never one to put stock into those cults with their egotistical leaders and their made up, bullshit worships, he only had a passing awareness of what such a world was like. Things like:

“Distrust outsiders.”

“Devote yourself to us.”

When he met the first member, the de facto leader, he wasn’t thinking about any of that crap.

No, with his sharp, black plastic rain jacket, he walked through the rainy streets of his city. The hood of his jacket was up and he had stretched the strings down to scrunch the hood in such a way that, in theory, it would have protected his face and not let the rain in.

Fat chance.

The rain came down with a slant, almost as if targeting his face specifically.

He hated the smell of rain, the raw and vinegary scent of the dumpsters he passed by, and the scent his hair got after it was drenched. Like mildew, or soft, fuzzy mold.

If he could, he would have left all of the scents of the city he lived in behind. There were never any prospects for him there and all the people he passed by either pissed him off or depressed him.

At one of his favorite haunts, however, he found solace:

A tavern, simply called the Fat Tiger. Somehow, the sidewalk near the bar had perfect, smooth sidewalks, while the sidewalk outside of the zone that was the ‘Fat Tiger Zone’ was cracked, uneven, and gravelly.

Inside the bar, it was cloaked in darkness and had that familiar, musty scent. As if everyone, man and woman alike, forgot what the concept of ‘hygiene’ was. He smelled no such floral scents, and the closest fruity scent was the sour grape smell that the patron’s sweat brought with them.

Little lights hung above, orange and glimmering. There was a strobe effect, but he couldn’t place from where or what it came from.

On the mat by the door, he dragged his feet along. His slick, black stiletto heels, which were once pristine leather, now had splotches of brown from all the mud tracked on it.

God damn puddles.

Even though he tried some modicum of politeness and hung up his jacket on the stiff, wooden coat rack to his left, he couldn’t help but drip remnants of the rain onto the wooden floorboards, sloppily painted red.

He forced himself to smile, even though he couldn’t break himself of the slouch he carried with him. While trudging his way to an empty stool at the bar, he spotted a tall lady, with shoulder length, plum colored hair, curled inward.

“Now what’s a...doing in a...like this?” He wanted to ask, but refrained from such trite questions.

He too had shoulder length at the time; black and matted. He’d try to tame it and keep himself neat and tidy, but gave up somewhere along the way. At work, he wore his hair in a bun, and a net over his hair. Ugh...just the thought of work was starting to give him a headache, and he had yet to have a single sip of ale.

He sat upon a stool, leaning one leg up before the other. He wasn’t exactly a short man, by any means, but those stools could be so god. Damn. Tall.

“Not wearing the usual deerstalker and flannel?” Meringue asked. She was a stocky woman, orange polka-dot sweater dress, saggy breasts, and bushy orange hair with hints of gray and green, almost as if her hair was a moldy tangerine. Somehow, that fit her, and some nights, Pynchon could swear that Meringue was the most beautiful woman in his life.

“Have you seen the weather outside? It just wouldn’t be appropriate,” he shook his head and folded his elbows over the table.

His usual attire which he wore to the bar, and the attire he wouldn’t part with, even after joining the church, was at home. He really didn’t want to think about returning there.

“Is there a spare room tonight?” He asked Meringue.

“Afraid not. Another gentleman beat you to it.”

“Ain’t that the pits?” He chuckled, his soft, but gravelly voice. It was the same kind of voice that Meringue had, and sometimes he could have sworn the two were the same people.

“Will you have your usual tonight?”

He shook his head.

“Just give me a bottle of hard cider.”

His usual drink was a pint of plum brandy. He would have preferred if they left the pit in, but he couldn’t blame Meringue for that; she was a simple bartender, not the one who brewed the blasted drink.

“How’s the knees? And them wrinkles?”

“Fuck,” was all Meringue had to say.

“Is there anything more to say about that?”

He chuckled, which was about all he could do these days. In order to produce a laughter more raucous, someone would have to tell him a joke funny enough to kill him.

Both of them were in their 40s and aged far too early, put under the weight of their lots in life. Despite all that, or because of that, to the other, they saw the other as a sort of divine beauty. It wasn’t a romantic attraction, however, nor anything else quite as sentimental: Meringue had her shitty husband, Pynchon had his shitty girlfriend.

Neither were satisfied, but both were far too accustomed to do much else.

“Does Lorelei know you’re out drinking?” The bartender asked while pulling a bottle out of the fridge.

“No. And it doesn’t matter.”

“Rough day?”

He chuckled again.

“When is it not?” His smile lowered back into that wide, glum expression he was far too used to.

By day, he worked at a paper mill. His clothes would get covered in the scent of mulch and pulp, with debris gathering all over as well. Any of his clothes that he once considered nice no longer applied, as several rounds in the washing machine could attest to. The money was decent, or, at one point was decent. By the point he was at, it was only just enough to get by, and even then, he could only afford to live in his home due to the income supplanted by his girlfriend’s job.

It was a rather twisted sense of hilarious, as any who passed him by might have mistook him for being homeless.

Meringue slid the bottle on the table, and he slid a $20 bill from out of his pocket.

He was about to say, “keep the change,” before he noticed that the lady with the plum hair beside him was without a drink.

She really is quite the looker, he examined before slapping on another $20 on the table.

“Get this fine lady a drink as well, will you?” He looked up at Meringue before tapping the stranger’s shoulder and asking, “hey. What do you want?”

She flinched, less like she was bracing for hurt, and more like she just got tickled when she turned to him, her face held a rather crooked smile, almost lopsided, like she was caught taking a cookie out of a cookie jar.

“A peter pan, please,” she said with a twinkling timbre. It reminded him of the first sign of spring. Her bangs were parted on each end, which revealed her forehead, with a few freckles, but nary a blemish otherwise. Her lips were a crimson red, and smeared just a little to give off the impression that she didn’t know how to apply lipstick. That, or…

Her lips were bloody.

No, he shook away such thoughts.

No matter what images sprung forth, he couldn’t deny the sight before him: like a porcelain doll, or a nymph bathing by a hidden fountain of water.

“A peter pan?” He asked. “You come to a bar, a seedy one at that, and you order a kiddie drink?” He almost sounded incensed, but he meant it in a joking way. It didn’t really matter. She could order cotton candy for all he cared and he would have still obliged her.

“I wish to have a clear head while it’s still mine.”

Her head was tilted, and her palms rested off to the side. The angle seemed to straighten out her face more than staring straight ahead did.

Damn. She really is...she’s…

He felt that spark in his groin. For now, he ignored it.

“What brings you to a place like this, anyway?”

“Well…” she kicked her legs about and looked up at the ceiling. A rather uninteresting sight, although he gave it a quick glanced. All he saw was a tiny abyss. “This isn’t a world I’m used to visiting, but I needed something to frighten me. I’ve fallen under hard times, you see.”

“Damn. You too, huh?”

“Yes. I lost my job. Or rather, there were things my job could no longer provide.”

“What did you do?”

“I was a psychological researcher. Not a psychologist, as I didn’t quite work with people. But I worked with the brain.”

“A neurologist?”

“No. Something close. My team’s research was rather famous. If I told you my name, you might have heard of me.”

“Probably not. I never cared much for that stuff. I already know I’m messed up, I don’t need to know the names for what I got. Part of the problem is society.”

“Yes. People don’t fear enough.”

“Don’t fear enough?! You’ve got surveillance, drugs, violence in the street, half of which is perpetuated by the authorities. We can barely afford to live and are in constant worry, and you’re telling me we don’t fear enough?”

“I’m sorry. I misspoke. What I meant is that we’re not in touch with our fears. We are afraid, but don’t know how to deal with it, and it keeps us from progressing.”

“Oh, yes, I’m frozen in fear,” he retorted. He never expected to get angry with such a beauty, someone who just a minute he considered akin to a Greek goddess. Blame the atmosphere.

“I know. You’re afraid of your life, afraid that it will never change, but too afraid to break out of it, either, for fear of disrupting your routine. Surely, breaking away would lead to a greater fear, but perhaps a greater life as well.”

Damn. I changed my mind. This chick’s nuts.

The room spun around him and he could have sworn he never took a swig from his bottle, yet it felt half empty in his hand. Shadows were cast on this lady’s face and all the features he thought he could once identify (the shamrock green eyes, the thin eyebrows, those freckles on her forehead) dissipated as her face turned to black clouded rain.

“People aren’t afraid of monsters these days because the monsters in their lives are always with them. But those fairy tale monsters, they do exist, you know? Ghosts, vampires, werewolves. I’ve seen them all.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I am not. I know you think I am, but haven’t you ever woken up to scratches you couldn’t explain? Felt a chill in an otherwise warm area? Walked into a room and forgotten why you were there? Do you really think those things only came from your mind?”

He waved his hand away.

Meringue came by and set down the glass: a cocktail of dry gin, peach bitters, and orange juice, with a couple of other mixtures. He couldn’t remember it all, nor did he care.

“Thank you. Has anyone ever told you how lovely you look? Especially that orange and green in your hair. You remind me of an orchard,” she told Meringue.

“Aw, shucks. You’re gonna make me blush.”

The lady, someone who Pynchon no longer had a grasp on, turned back to him.

“I want to help people with their fears. I believe with your help, we can guide the world. There’s a great mother waiting for us all, and I need five more people to make a complete group. Will you help me?”

He knew well enough.

She’s crazy, but good enough for a lay, he thought, before saying:

“I’ll think about it. Give me your number. If I’m interested, I’ll give you a call.”

She smiled and handed him a business card from her pocket. As he took it, the sensation conjured images of dipping his hand in black ink. It was repulsive, but not enough to get him to pull away.

Pynchon, or the name the man once went by, walked home in the blistering rain, chugging down his bottle and singing an orchestral tune along the way. He waltzed about, but he knew that as soon as he walked in the door of his home that the feeling wouldn’t last.

His home one was a, in relative terms, modest one.

It rested on the outskirts of the suburbs where grass didn’t grow. It was a yellow house, one floor, with paint scratched up and a roof covered in moss. Off to the side were wilted flowers, back from when his girlfriend tried to start a garden, but quit when she realized she would have to consistently water the plants. The windows which overlooked the front of the house were all boarded up. Some folks would walk by and whisper rumors about Pynchon’s home being a drug den. It was a joke between him and his girlfriend that they really did cook hard drugs in their home, even though neither did.

The truth was far simpler: some rowdy kids had accidentally tossed baseballs at their windows and shattered the glass, and rather than get them fixed, the couple settled with boarding them up.

He rustled in his pockets for his keys. A few blocks back, he tossed the bottle of hard cider in an an open-faced dumpster.

The drink didn’t get him drunk.

It barely gave him a buzz.

When he opened the door, it creaked and in the living room sat his girlfriend, Lorelei, cross-legged and cross-armed on their beige colored sofa. Her face, too, was cross.

“You reek of alcohol,” she grumbled.

“I reek of rain,” he argued. Whatever bliss he had on the way home left as soon as he saw her:

Her hair was dirty blonde and ragged, her cheeks sagged, and her eyes drooped. Not even the hazelnut shade of eyes which matched the shade of the burn marks of her cheeks (a childhood accident, a long story). She wore a white tank top (those thin ones...what did they call them again? Wife-beaters? Ha. What a joke) and gray, baggy sweatpants.

“Whatever. You’re always going to reek,” she went on.

“Then why mention it? Are you just looking for something to complain about?”

He shimmied over to her, even as all words told him not to.

The TV was on in the background, and flashing white lights filled the house. The kitchen, in the back corner, flashed. He didn’t even want to look at the mess that was the backyard.

Whatever. The whole house was a mess.

Some nauseating shade of brown always greeted him; the painted tapestry on the walls, some of which had peeled off. The living room was cluttered with stacks of books, magazines, and newspaper. There were stuffed animals of clowns and creatures from the jungle thrown about. On the walls were shelves, a darker, burnt shade of brown, which housed various trinkets they found at antique shops and flea markets, most porcelain or tin.

He sat next to her and felt a loose spring try to poke out from the cushion.

On TV was some old film, silent, and featuring a man in a striped suit pantomiming.

“Got anything nice to say?” He asked while crossing his legs and arms in the process.

“Do you?” She echoed.

“You know, I met this girl at the bar.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Would you get mad if I said yes?”

“I don’t care. Would you get mad if I was seeing someone else?”

At one point, he would have feared such a prospect. Now, it felt like winning the lottery.

“Maybe you should. Better make sure they make enough. I know you can’t survive on your current income. What would happen if I left? Would you go homeless?”

“I could ask you the same. If I got fired, or quit, you couldn’t afford to keep living here.”

Pynchon sighed.

“You know, if we ever both go homeless, I’m not going to stay with you. I would rather die in a ditch.”

Her face was stiff. He stared at her and noticed the stiffness and wondered if she would cry.

Damn it. Feel something.

She didn’t cry.

“We’re both going to die homeless,” she said, “maybe we should just quit our jobs or get fired and get it over with.”

It was an enticing offer.

Neither Pynchon nor Lorelei knew how the two had come to hate each other, only that they did now. There was no doubt that at one point, they gave each other warmth in their lives and even after fights, were all smiles.

Now, the only reason they were together was because they depended on each other to keep living. Neither understood why they let the other live.

Their relationship ran its course years ago. There was no returning to that, and anything it could turn into would have surely been worse than the current toleration of the other.

Even still, that strange woman at the bar must have had a point, as the very next day, Pynchon called her up and left the house, no note, no explanation.

He never knew what happened to Lorelei. He almost felt a sick, poisonous delight in the idea of her being destitute.

The strange, yet alluring lady, explained that she was starting something she called ‘the church,’ and that she named herself HD, after a famous author. She also urged him to do the same and pick the last name of an author to go by.

Of course he saw it as weird, but he went along with it. He was never much of a reader, but two books which stuck in his mind was Gravity’s Rainbow and Inherent Vice by the author Thomas Pynchon. The way that man wrote in simple, casual language really resonated with him. Forget shit like themes or plot structure, Pynchon just came off as the easiest name to use.

HD took Pynchon around the country in a white Volkswagen van, and they ate out at various restaurants and diners along the road. Pynchon ate better than he had in years, even while sleeping in a hammock in the back of the van.

There was no doubt in his mind that he was homeless, but at least he was away from his old life. That much he could get behind.

Sooner or later, she’ll let me lay her, he told himself, and to that end went along with every whim she had. It didn’t matter to him whether or not he believed her speeches. He was waiting on a promise that would never come to pass.

Watching the state of the world upon that stump made him realize that one promise was fulfilled:

“Do you know what it means to pray for Mother’s arrival? It means that we would be praying for genocide.”

The words echoed in his mind. The words he told to Joyce, the young man he recruited.

Now, he saw how true those words were.

He reached into his inner pocket and found his salvation.

I’ll still have the last laugh, he told himself while giving off a wide, crooked grin.

“Well, looks like my work here is done,” he announced, his voice hoarse, and with much less humor than he wished to express. It didn’t seem to turn any heads.

Tears ran down his face, and he was thankful for his round, dark glasses.

“Are you harboring doubts?” He remembered asking Joyce. In fact, it was the very same day.

He held his salvation up under his chin. He gulped and his throat hit the cold, steel barrel. It was loaded with a single bullet. If he failed, he would be in a lot of pain, but a heat rose within him which indicated that luck was on his side.

He pulled the prick near the end of his salvation and a shot rang out through the air, a sharp howl which echoed. It was like a banshee walked up to every member of the church and screeched.

Everyone’s heads turned toward Pynchon, who fell over, lifeless. The pistol dropped onto the ground next to the stump, on the other side of him. Blood had sprayed onto the ground and painted the black beetles red.

They all shook and their eyes went wide. Most didn’t react beyond that. One of them screamed, but no one could tell who it was, not even the one who screamed.

“What the…?” Joyce uttered and tears welled up in his eyes and flooded his face. Some of the blood had gotten on the cloak that Joyce wore.

Joyce wiped away the tears, even as they still flowed.

No. No. I told myself long ago that I was numb to all this, he tried to coach himself out of distress.

“Wow,” Ocampo said, and said nothing more.

She sat on the ground next to Joyce.

Behind them, the trio of Borges, Steinbeck, and Mansfield sat together. Borges to the left, closer to Ocampo, and Mansfield to the right, furthest away from everyone.

It didn’t seem like the three were shocked, but Joyce wasn’t always the best at reading people’s reactions, even though he knew that everyone responded to distress differently.

Pynchon had been off to the side of the white building that was the church’s headquarters, near the back. All the rest were near the front. Most of them were lost in their own conversations right before the shot rang out. Only the most fervent believers had an idea of what happened to the world. Joyce and Ocampo simply speculated.

“Well, then,” an absentminded and dull voice broke through the silence. “Now that I have your attention, I would like to explain what happens next.”

Everyone turned to face the tall woman in the white cloak, her hood down. She was bald, as was everyone else, and her pale skin, thin eyebrows, and freckles on her forehead were the main identifiers that separated her from everyone else. She often reminded Joyce of one of those department store mannequins.

Joyce often liked to look around and imagine what the church members used to look like before shaving the tops of their heads. Some of them had grown back part of their hair, even if at most, they had what he would describe as a pixie cut.

As usual, he looked around, except when his gaze met the back of Pynchon’s lifeless frame, he cringed and shuddered.

“So –” HD began to speak again, but Joyce wouldn’t have it.

“Hey! One of our members just committed suicide and you want to hold a meeting?!” Whatever tears he had faded away and in its place was a red-faced righteous anger.

HD glanced over to Pynchon’s corpse, then looked away in the other direction and toward the ground where the corpses of bugs rested.

“Yes. It’s quite sad. We’re down one church member. I often relied on him to recruit new members, since I’m...uh…” her pale face almost looked blue, as if she was gasping for air, “I’m not so good with people.”

“That’s what you’re sad about?!”

“We need seven to make it work.”

“Make what work?” Joyce huffed. His rage was palpable and he snorted out every other breath. What was more baffling to him was that no one else seemed to be as angry.

“That’s what I was going to get into. See, Mother has arrived. The world population of every creature has been reduced by over 90%. In its place will be beasts. There is no need to be alarmed, however, as each of us will help restore humanity. It will take seven church members, and scattered about are different objects. For symbolism’s sake, we’ll call these objects ‘trumpets’. Each of us will sound these trumpets and gain abilities which will help guide humanity.”

“Excuse me?” Joyce raised his hand. “I’ve been going along with this ‘mother’ business, but I really have to ask: do you have some kind of Oedipus Complex? Were you not loved enough as a kid?”

“Good one,” Ocampo slapped Joyce’s shoulder and sneered.

A soaring, glowing feeling worked its way into him and he wondered just how far he could carry that feeling.

“Um, well...are you interested in my personal life?” HD fidgeted in place without making eye contact with Joyce.

“No. I just want to know what your deal is. Why this Mother thing? I’m tired of everyone giving me vague crap instead of just coming out and saying what they mean.”

“Mother is...yes. I see now. Many civilizations have had their form of a mother goddess. The Anatolian civilization had Cybele, the mountain mother. The Babylonian civilization had Tiamat. Mother is no exception. A better name might be ‘Fear’ as that is what our Mother is.”

“Fear?” Joyce’s head tilted.

“Yes. Many see the emotion of fear as an enemy, rather than the nurturer it is. I have made contact with our mother, Fear, and I have been tasked to build a mythology. Are you familiar with the book of Revelations from the Christian bible?”

“Is this what it is? You brought about the apocalypse because you wanted to recreate a series of events that were meant to be allegory?”

“No. I wanted us to create a new mythology and make it into reality.”

“And you decided to copy a pre-existing one? How is that making a new one?”

“Well...nothing is wholly original…”

“Yeah, but what you’re describing is plagiarism.”

“I’m impressed,” Ocampo nudged Joyce, “you went past being skeptical of the world ending and are now just criticizing the one responsible.”

“Oh, no. I’m still skeptical. I just can’t deny what’s in front of my eyes. Maybe outside of Colorado, most of the world is fine. For all I know, HD might have just used some explosives or used special effects to give off the impression that actual damage was done.”

“I..didn’t. That would kill a lot of people,” HD interjected.

“Oh, right. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Joyce put his hands on his hips and leaned forward, “even though according to you, most of the world is DEAD.”

“I didn’t bring it about, though. I only invited Fear here. This destruction is simply a byproduct of Fear’s arrival.”

“If you knew it would happen, sounds like you’re responsible.”

HD turned her head, stared straight into Joyce’s eyes at last. Her shimmering green eyes shifted to a bright, orange, fiery look. Joyce shuddered.

“I see now. This is why Pynchon recruited you. I needed this,” she said with an icy calmness. Despite the burning glare, her words nor voice showed anger.

“What?” Joyce had no words of rebuttal, only confusion.

She continued, however, with no further explanation given:

“Each of you will be tasked with finding your trumpet. It may appear in any form, but each one will grant you abilities based on what suits you. Once the seven have been sounded, the next phase can begin.”

“What is the next phase?”

“Up to your discretion. It cannot truly begin until we have seven members again.”

“Why?”

“Because it felt most significant. That’s why there are seven trumpets. For each of us. They aren’t meant for anyone else.”

“I don’t know. I prefer six, personally,” Ocampo added her opinion, “with seven, it was always going to be uneven on the male/female ratio. With six, we can have an even three and three.”

Joyce counted each member, including himself: indeed, there were three male members (Joyce, Steinbeck, Borges) and three female members (Ocampo, HD, Mansfield). However, there was a glaring issue.

“Excuse me? Do you even count as a member? Aren’t you the leader? Shouldn’t that mean that we need two more members?” Joyce pointed to HD.

“Well...I thought we were all leaders…”

“No,” Joyce said, and nodded his head, slowly. “You organized this. You planned this. You supplied the food and housing, you brought your ‘Mother’ here. God damn, I must have landed in the most incompetent cult in existence, and this is saying something.”

“I need my trumpet, too,” HD whimpered and pursed her lips.

“I think you’re doing great,” Mansfield spoke up. Her face was gaunt and she looked so frail. “I hope we can find another member. Whoever they are, maybe I can fall in love with them.”

“Fat chance,” Joyce turned toward Mansfield, “who are you going to find? Most people are dead, if you haven’t noticed. Are you really expecting to find love in the apocalypse?”

Joyce couldn’t imagine anything more absurd than two people banding together in such desperate times against grotesque creatures and falling in love with each other.

“Let her dream,” Ocampo patted Joyce’s shoulder.

“Yes! Dreams! I cannot wait!” Borges stood up, his fist in the air. Joyce took note of Borges’ curled mustache and how round Borges was. It made Joyce think of a meatball, and he imagined that even when Borges had his hair above his head, he never had much of it.

“I for one like that the population has been reduced. Maybe now there will be enough food to go around for everyone,” Steinbeck sat and nodded while stroking his long, light brown beard. His wrinkles and creases all over his face, his dark, sunken eyes, all were signs that Steinbeck was the oldest of the group. Joyce imagined Steinbeck’s hair was once either blonde or white, and long and stringy, and that he liked to wear a straw hat.

“Are you kidding? That ‘overpopulation’ fallacy? The problem with the world was never how many people we had!” Joyce shouted.

“Never mind them. Worry about what you want to do and how you will survive,” Ocampo whispered into Joyce’s ear. He hated to admit, but he felt his member shift around in his brown, hay woven pants and stiffen.

These pants are too tight. My dick’s too uncomfortable. Damn it, why did she have to blow into my ear? Doesn’t she know how sensitive my ears are?

HD clapped.

“This concludes our meeting. While the church will still exist, in its current form, it is disbanded. Go out and do what you will. With any luck, we shall all meet again.”

HD was the first to walk off. Mansfield got up and ran behind HD. Maybe the two would follow each other?

For the moment, both Borges and Steinbeck remained in place.

As did Joyce.

While Ocampo stood up, Joyce stopped her from walking away, grabbing hold of her wrist. Once again, the appendage between Joyce’s leg stiffened further and began to throb as his legs heated up.

Why is holding onto her arm turning me on? What is wrong with me?

Ocampo looked down and smirked.

“What’s the matter, boy? Are you going to miss me?”

“Of course not! But what are we going to do about Pynchon? Shouldn’t we bury him?”

“Leave him. The carrion will find him. And if they don’t, the beasts will.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in that crap! I don’t care if most of the world has died out, but that doesn’t mean there’s monsters all of a sudden!”

“I don’t know what is or isn’t real right now,” she shook her head while continuing to hold her smirk. “Like you and Pynchon, I never believed in this ‘church,’ I only joined and played along because I had nowhere else to go in my life. All three of us come from similar places, but that doesn’t mean we’re all the same people. I want to see what’s out there, and if I can influence the world, I will. Despite how horrible things have become, I still want to believe some good can come of it.”

“Let me come with you! We can survive together!”

She chuckled.

“You’re desperate, aren’t you? What’s the matter? The poor cynical boy who cursed the world started to catch feelings?”

“No! Quit fucking with me! You’re just the only connection to Pynchon I still have! He mentored me! You knew him, too!”

He let go of her wrist. She held her wrist in her other hand and rubbed it. Joyce knew he didn’t squeeze that hard, so he found the gesture odd.

“Good luck out there. May we meet again,” were her parting words.

He huffed.

Bitterness filled him.

Of course. Being alone still suits me best, he told himself.

Time and time again, he expected to die.

But one year passed and Joyce persisted.

At a certain point, a month or two ago, he raided a home in an otherwise wrecked suburbia. The once uniform, trimmed lawns, were overgrown, to the point they covered up many of the doors to the houses, or at least the ones that weren’t demolished by either the initial calamity or trampled over by beasts around the area.

In a way, the wrecked homes and furniture strewn about the cracked roadway with wilted flowers growing in between and overgrown grass lawns which could have housed any number of hidden beasts held a sort of obscene beauty in Joyce’s eyes.

Every now and then, he waited for a beast to jump out and tear him limb from limb. It brought him a perverse pleasure to imagine a scene of himself mauled by a beast while his intestines were pulled out by the teeth of a beast. His lifeless body turned into a mushy combination of yellow and red.

No beasts ever jumped out at him.

Instead, he found a button-up blue and white striped shirt from a dresser drawer. In another room of the house, he found a pair of blue jeans in his size. He abandoned his old clothes in the same house he found his new ones and moved on. As soon as he left the house, the large head of a hunched over beast poked out from the side of the house. It huffed hot air out of its large snout and several thin, human arm-like appendages poked out from the nostrils and wriggled about.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Joyce spotted the beast and fell back. He nearly pissed his pants, and his crotch grew cold. Despite that, the beast paid the young man no mind and took a step forward. The ground shook and before Joyce could get up, he fell again.

Yet again, the beast took no notice.

That was how Joyce’s life had gone. Beast surrounded him. Many resembling animals he recognized back before the calamity, but with oddities that didn’t fit with what he knew.

Despite all the danger he should have been in, the beasts never took notice of him. They never harmed him, they never looked his way. He never could find an explanation for it, and wondered if that was all the beast’s purpose served: to scare him, and nothing more.

He’d soil his pants on occasion and his apathy for life made him not want to bathe, even in situations when he could have done so. He ate whatever scraps he could find and raided any home he came across. Rashes developed on his arms and legs. Cuts formed from itching everywhere on his skin. Even when he didn’t have cuts, his skin was red all over. When it rained, he not only shivered, but it felt like his skin burned, and worse, his clothes clung to his drenched self.

He had yet to come across another person in his travels. No, that wasn’t true: once, he saw someone mauled by a beast while he watched, too paralyzed to help or run away. Ever since watching that person get murdered, he fantasized about it being him.

Where he stood at present was an unimpressive locale: a thick, forest atop a mountainous road. He knew that the road was close, and that the road was twisting and winding. What he couldn’t tell was whether he was still in the land once known as the state of Colorado, or if he had moved on to another former state. No, he knew such details didn’t matter to him. Names were in places, but now places were just places.

Few, if any hair, regrew on his head in the span of that year. Just brown patches throughout. Meanwhile, a thick mustache had attached itself and refused to let go, and curled hairs fixed its way across into what he could only call a haphazard goatee. His face had become larger, thicker than it once was, and his cheeks were constantly puffed out in a way that reminded him of a chipmunk. To make matters worse, it was once again raining that evening, and his clothes were not only drenched, he was not only broken out in hives, but he was also covered in mud.

The road was close. There was a bus shelter that he knew was close by, and its clear, glass awning would protect him from the rain. For the past few days, he dared not stray from the area near that bus shelter. It was like a shrine or temple to him.

“My, aren’t you an eyesore,” crooned the voice of someone he constantly tried to forget.

His usual slouch jolted him to turn around and for his back to straighten up. Before him stood a pristine, even as her white cloak had been grayed out from the rain, Ocampo.

“What? What are you doing here?!” He demanded. He blinked a few times, not sure if what he saw was real or not.

“It seems you’re still alive. Good,” she ignored his question. Her voice had that syrupy richness to it, and her smirk was the one thing he might have changed.

“Were you following me?”

“I already knew where you were.”

Between them, the bushes rustled. It could have been the wind, or some hidden beast nearby.

“So. Uh. How are you?”

She shook her head.

“Different.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“It’s all real – all of it. The lack of life, the beasts, and the trumpets.”

“The trumpets, too?! Tell me where they are! I’ve been all over, but I don’t know where to look or what they look like!”

She shook her head again.

“You don’t want it. Trust me. It’s best to keep living as you have. I found mine, and I picked it up. It changed me. I don’t know if I’m still human, but I know that what I am...it’s not how I should be.”

“You’re not making any sense!”

“When I picked it up and it sounded, I saw visions: I think I know now why she called it ‘Mother.’ It’s the reason for the beasts. It gives birth. It doesn’t stop giving birth, either. It’s like a living factory. That’s all I can call it.”

A sudden ache erupted on the side of Joyce’s head and he clutched it while squinting. He hadn’t noticed before, but she had a full head of hair: deep purple, like the color out of space. If he squinted further, he might have seen stars in her hair. It went down to her waist. Joyce couldn’t help but be enraged.

Why does she get her hair back? What about me?

“Never mind that,” he said through his headache, “what I want to know about are these trumpets. If they’re real, what ability did you obtain?”

“The ability to change others. You may not have noticed, but I too am covered in mud. Truly, nothing is quite so filthy as cleanliness.”

“I disagree.”

“I can make others into the selves they never knew they needed to be.”

“What if somebody doesn’t want to change? Or what if how they change isn’t what they need? I’m not saying I believe you, but how is such an ability helpful if you’re forcing someone into a role that they didn’t accept for themselves? I thought you had a controlling husband! What makes you any different from him?”

As soon as he said those words, he felt like he was struck by lightning, but Ocampo continued her smile.

“He was controlling, indeed. Every night, he made me make the meals, do his dishes, clean his floors that he spilled his food and drink all over. I was to fuck when he told me to fuck, not when I wanted. I was too meek to say no, too bound by my routine. He would come home, with men and women alike, a different one every other night, and I was to make no comment. I knew they were fucking. I heard them. Those grunts, those screams. Don’t you think I wanted to fuck another man or woman every once in a while?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her smile faded, but she didn’t look angry.

“So I left. I had to leave. There was no freedom for me there. Once, there might have been love. There must have been some reason I had gone with him before I turned into this dutiful housewife. I put on a smile for the children, I let them do as they pleased, but it wasn’t enough for me. When I left, I didn’t return home. I thought, once, about returning home to pick them up. But if I did, he might have been there. Maybe he returned early from work. Who knows? He would have beat me back into submission, made sure I had no means of escape again.”

“You had kids? And you just left them?”

Her smile returned, but it wasn’t a smirk. Droplets of water ran down from her face – the rain.

“Yes, I did. But I can do right by others. I can coerce others into the same freedom I now have. I can remove the shackles they didn’t know bound them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Good. Keep it that way. If you want to preserve who are you, don’t seek out the trumpets. Forget about me.”

“You know I can never do that. I’ve always felt...”

She laughed and it sounded like the sounds of a macaw taking flight.

“Why, if that isn’t the essence of who you are: you say you don’t need anyone, but at the slightest hint that you might be into someone, you try latching onto them. You say everything is hopeless, but you so desperately want to hope. You’re not a pessimist, no: you’re a scared optimist.”

“Shut up! Everything is hopeless! No matter what I did to change the world, my efforts went unnoticed.”

“What’s more important: making things better or being noticed?”

“What I mean is, the people in power...they made sure the ones beneath them had no power. They blocked any attempt to make the world a better place at every turn. What hope could I have?”

“And? Where are these people in power now? Look around you: aren’t we the ones in power? What’s stopping you?”

“I lack resources! And look, the beasts! There’s nothing I can do unless I obtain that trumpet!”

“How have you survived as long as you have without finding one?”

“I’ve only survived because I went unnoticed! No matter how many times I thought a beast would kill me, they never looked my way!”

“My. Don’t you think that’s an amazing ability?”

“How? Tell me how!”

She shook her head.

“I don’t need to change you. All you need to do is see what you have.”

“What?”

But she disappeared from sight. There wasn’t a hint like she had faded away – no, it was like she was never there at all.

“Ha. I must have made up that whole conversation. Even made up a backstory for her that made sense to me. That’s all it was.”

His legs shook, but it wasn’t from the cold.

He found the bus station just as he left it. There was a thick fog in the air, but he was confident no beast would show up and attack him. He curled up on that stiff bench made of wooden boards and shivered. As he looked out into the fog, he thought he saw the outline of Ocampo’s face take shape. Everything was there, down to the mole under her lip and the widow’s peak of her hair.

“Look how feeble you are,” the wind howled in Ocampo’s sardonic tone.

Joyce curled up tighter and covered his face with his hands. With one final plea he shouted:

“MAKE IT END!”

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 9

It was serene:

Null, resting on the floor of an otherwise empty house, face red and covered in sweat. Every now and then, she grunted in her sleep.

Minnow could watch such a scene the whole day. Of course, she wanted nothing more than to rest as well, but seeing as the day the two had already, she had to stay vigilant.

“Oh, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I want you to know that…” Minnow said in a soft whisper. She would have finished that statement, but she found whatever she would have said unsatisfactory. Besides, what good was it if Null was asleep?

Worse, she thought, what good are words if I don’t know which ones will get her to believe? Get her to understand, that...no. Even then. I know she’s had a hard life. Being able to convince her of her worth, am I the right person to do so?

Minnow stood up; she really could watch Null sleep all day if she was capable of doing so and if the circumstances were right, but she knew the kind of world they lived in.

She walked over to the kitchen of the house, still awfully white, with green vases on the counter which held wilted flowers. Even with that little trace of color, all she could think of is sterile in the most grotesque sense of the word. There was a refrigerator, which she opened, only to find it empty save for the rusted racks lined up. It was dark in there, as well, as to be expected from a place without electricity.

When it came down to it, the fact that the inside of this house seemed so bright was the true oddity. There were teal curtains, which may as well have been white as well. Worse, they didn’t look like they were made of fabric, and rather snakeskin.

It’s easier not to think of these things. Sometimes I think it would be easier to be blind, she thought with a grim expression as she turned her attention back to the kitchen. She pulled out one of the cabinet drawers and backed away as a dead mouse laid there. After a huff and both hands over her heart, she walked back toward the drawer and forced a smile.

In a way, that mouse looks serene as well.

She closed the drawer and went on to pull more drawers open. Most were empty, not even the startling sight from the first one. But on the very bottom drawer was a white cloth. She could have shrieked out of sheer joy. At last, something to help Null.

There was also the cloth on Null’s shoulder, but that’s stained with blood, and once she’s healed up more, it would have to be tossed away.

Minnow went over to the sink and, without expectations, turned the dial on the faucet clockwise, and was delighted when water tricked down from the faucet.

Am I in paradise? She wondered and held the cloth under the faucet until it was damp. Once she turned off the faucet, she wrung the cloth out, then advanced toward Null, who still rested upon the floor.

“Hey, Null,” she kept her voice low but spoke with a smile. Null didn’t stir from her sleep, even when Minnow placed her palm over her forehead and felt the burning warmth. After spreading the cloth out on her forehead, however, Null grimaced a little, but remained still.

“Are you awake?” Minnow asked, and Null shook her head, although it came off as more like a swaying motion.

After that gesture, Minnow couldn’t help but giggle. She stroked along the top of Null’s grapefruit hair.

“You should go back to sleep. I’m sorry to wake you.”

Null smiled, then went back to sleep.

I should try to lift her up. Maybe there’s a bedroom where I can set her on. Maybe we could rest in the bed together. Sharing warmth.

Before she could reach down, however, the door creaked open and for a moment, the light from outside leaked in. That moment soon was replaced by a large, looming shadow in the form of a beast which seemed to stretch as far as the end of the living room.

She felt a chill upon her spine. Of course, something like that should have been expected: what good was a house against a beast, anyway?

That was what she thought, but she still wished she could have lived in the delusion of a safe haven just a little longer.

She turned, reluctant to do so, but unable not to, and her jaw nearly dropped: standing in the doorway was a small, elderly woman with her back hunched over and her gray hair in a bun. The elderly woman had a green, floral print dress.

Nothing seemed unusual about her appearance; there were the wrinkles, the thin hands, the crow’s feet, the squinting eyes. All the signatures Minnow recognized of an old, human lady. It didn’t matter, as the chill didn’t leave, nor did the shadow which spread out from behind the old lady and encroached upon the shelter.

Come on. I need to get Null up. We need to leave. We need to do something, she urged herself, but found herself unable to make a move.

Why do I have to be like this now of all times?

The old lady took a step forward. Then another step. Each step was a creaking, half-crouch. Then, it happened: the old lady walked past Minnow and the chill left, replaced with a suffocating, repulsive heat. Minnow even thought that, for a sec, part of the dress brushed against her skin.

Minnow fell over and landed on Null’s stomach, causing Null to lurch up awake with a heavy, “oof” sound.

“Aah! Sorry, Null!” Minnow cried as she waved her hands about.

Null let out a couple of dry coughs, looked down at the wet cloth that had dropped down, and tilted her head.

“How did that get here?” Null asked.

Minnow ignored Null’s question and instead scowled as she turned her attention toward the old lady who had scurried up onto the chair.

“What are you doing here?” Minnow demanded with a bite to her voice.

“This is my home, dearie,” the old lady answered while slouched in the chair, “I’m granny Hollyhock.”

“Wrong. I don’t have a grandmother. Who, or what, are you really?”

Of course, Minnow must have had grandparents at some point. She just didn’t know many details about her family and already regarded her parents as a non-presence. It wasn’t that she never got curious, either, but even when she looked through their house, she found no details of other family members.

She would have loved to meet anyone else in her family, had hopes that she was related to someone kind, maybe far kinder than her, and would take her and her siblings in. That never happened.

The Pond parents weren’t always so unreliable. Minnow had memories...not vivid, but they were there. They had supported the kids in minimal ways, like enrolling them in school or providing groceries.

Looking back on those scant memories might have been enough to bring her to tears were it not for the rage she felt staring at this thing in front of her calling itself ‘granny.’

“I’m everyone’s granny,” Hollyhock said instead, “I’m here for anyone who needs a granny. Even you, dearie.”

The young brunette’s insides twisted and curled up as she heard those words.

“Granny?” The red haired one pushed herself up and looked at the small woman in the chair.

“Yes, dearie?”

“Can I sit at the couch next to you?” Null asked. Her words were slow, in a drawl, but just the fact that Null asked at all baffled Minnow.

You do realize that’s a beast. What are you doing?

“Of course, dearie.”

Null scrambled up and swayed on over to the couch where she leaned upon the arm rest.

“Granny?”

“Yes, dearie?”

“I’ve not been doing so well. I’m sure you must be disappointed in me. I’ve never been able to hold down a job, or keep friends, for very long. I really wish I had some good news to tell you.”

“I’m not disappointed at all, dear. I know how much you must have struggled. This world can be a harsh one, but I want you to know that you’re safe here. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“Oh, thank you granny!”

The one speaking to granny swayed their head about, and despite the excited words, her voice itself was dull. It was like the one Minnow saw wasn’t Null at all, or rather…

...Is her mind being controlled? Is she possessed? Is this some kind of spell the beast has over her?

“And who is this lovely lady? Is she your friend?” Granny asked.

It didn’t take much to figure out who was being referred to, and the brunette in question crinkled her nose.

“Oh, Minnow?” Null asked and took a quick glance. Hearing Null speak her name startled Minnow, even though she was expecting it. “I don’t know if we’re friends or not, she just follows me around. Um...Minnow, are we friends?”

“Yes,” Minnow said flatly.

Null smiled, then turned back to granny, who smiled as well.

“You two look like such lovely friends, as well,” granny said, “you should be proud of yourself.”

“I don’t know about that…”

I have nothing to be proud of, Null thought.

“Get away from her, Null. She’s a beast,” Minnow groaned. She couldn’t bear with the charade any longer.

“A beast? What is that?” Granny asked.

“Oh, uh. They’re big monsters, granny,” Null explained.

“I see. You’re safe from any beasts here, dearie.”

Why aren’t my words getting through? Minnow wondered.

“I know! It’s very rare to have guests, so how about I serve you two up some tea?”

“No. We don’t want your tea. It’s probably poisoned.”

“Actually, I would like some tea. I’m still a little feverish,” Null said.

“Null. Please,” Minnow urged.

“...Or, water’s fine,” Null glanced over to Minnow, then turned back to granny.

“Very well. What about some biscuits?”

Minnow’s stomach growled, betraying her.

“We’re not hungry,” Minnow ignored her stomach’s pleas. After all, there was just as likely of a chance that the biscuits were poisoned.

What kind of biscuits would a beast make, anyway?

“I’m a little hungry…” Null admitted.

I’m going to regret this. We’re going to die. Right in the beast’s clutches.

“Fine. I’ll try one biscuit.”

‘Granny Hollyhock’ as the beast called itself, leaped out from the chair and shuffled over to the kitchen. Both Null and Minnow stared in awe, but for different reasons.

At the dining room table, the two ladies sat in white ceramic chairs. Minnow observed that the table was marble. Null sat with her elbows at the table and her head resting in her palms. She had a dopey grin on her face, and her eyelids looked heavy. It was clear she was still ill, but there must have been some intoxicating bliss causing her to act so strange.

Granny walked over with a cookie sheet and six flaky biscuits, already made. Minnow didn’t notice them before, and she didn’t think to look where the beast had pulled the biscuits out from.

Minnow chose the biscuit closest to her. If she was going to allow Null to partake in such a terrible thing, she had no choice but to join her. After all, they were still companions.

One small bite, however, and Minnow noted the dry, chalk-like taste. It permeated on her tongue and seemed to have trouble going down when she swallowed it.

She came to one conclusion: it wasn’t poisoned. But rather…

Null hacked out a series of coughs and spat out the biscuit onto the table. She had taken a large bite, but that bite never had a chance to be properly digested.

“Sorry...granny, I’m just sensitive to stale foods, I didn’t mean to spit it out,” she moaned.

“Now, now. Don’t you worry, dearie,” granny reassured. “I will clean it up. How about you use the guest bedroom down the hall, past the living room? It seems you are feeling unwell.”

That chill Minnow felt earlier returned.

“Would you be a doll and accompany your friend to the guest room?” Granny asked Minnow.

Minnow nodded. Maybe nothing got through to Null while granny was around, but maybe after some safe distance away, she could talk some sense into her.

Through the living room, Minnow held onto Null’s back and guided her to the hallway. On the way to the hallway, she noticed a flight of stairs leading up to a room. She couldn’t remember whether or not the flight of stairs were there before. It didn’t bother her, either way.

The bedroom was at the end of the hallway. There were no other doors in the hallway, not even a closet door.

Where does the beast sleep? Or does it sleep at all? She wondered.

Minnow opened the door and found the room carried a darker hue than the rest of the house, which had been a bleached, ill white. Its walls were a swampy green, and the bed sheets a deep cerulean.

Null sat up on the bed while Minnow walked around the room. Her head was pounding, and the fever, while mild, wasn’t helping her with concentration. Even then, she found it odd that Minnow pulled through dresser and nightstand drawers, looking under the bed, and pulling on the bedroom’s closet fold-out door.

“Empty,” Minnow murmured.

“What are you doing?” Null asked.

“Looking for supplies. We can’t stay here long, and at the moment we’re cornered by the beast. Maybe this was its trap all along. Lead us into the bedroom while we’re most vulnerable.”

“The beast…?”

“You know, the thing calling itself ‘granny’.”

Right...that granny, Null thought.

“How do you know she’s a beast, anyway?” Null asked.

“Come on, it’s clear as day: what old woman lives in the middle of a forest full of beasts in an untouched house?”

“Yeah, I know it’s odd, but what kind of beast can take the form of a human? More so, speak and act the part of a kind, old lady? I think maybe you’re just paranoid.”

Minnow turned to Null and stared with a scowl. Null leaned back and gulped.

“Sorry, that was harsh!” Null tried to backtrack, “I know it’s true that there’s probably all sorts of beasts out there we haven’t encountered, so it’s definitely possible.”

“Sorry as well,” Minnow relaxed her face, “but I think I’d rather be cautious and proven wrong than be caught off-guard.”

“I get that...it’s just...she seems so nice. Besides, she has that cute old lady face.”

“Just because something has a cute face doesn’t mean they have good intentions behind that face.”

Null groaned.

“Well...I feel like I can be myself around her. Like I can say whatever I want and she’ll accept me anyway.”

“Can’t you already do that with me?”

Null looked down at the bed and away from Minnow. She closed her eyes and wished that when she opened them, that Minnow would disappear. Even with her eyes closed, the burning pounding against her head persisted.

“What?” Minnow asked.

Null opened her eyes but refused to look up.

“I...I don’t know. I don’t want to think about anything right now. Look, we’ve got this comfy bed. Can’t we focus on that right now?”

“You know, for someone who’s afraid of everything, you sure are careless.”

Null looked up at Minnow, face beet red and on the verge of tears.

“You know, for someone who likes to act nurturing, you sure aren’t very nice,” she retorted.

Both of them stared at each other with sour expressions and quivering lips. Their hearts pounded in unison but neither could hear the beat of the other’s.

I never said I was nurturing or nice. Just because I want to care for her, she comes at me with that? And for what? Reminding her how dangerous this situation is? Minnow’s thoughts raced. She turned away, and continued to rummage around the room.

Null laid down and faced against the wall with her legs curled.

What’s she being so mean for? I’m still sick, my head hurts, and I just want to relax for a little while. Wasn’t she the one who told me to rest, anyway? But now there’s all this talk of beasts. Just for a little while, I want to think about something other than beasts. Is that so wrong? Null thought.

Tears filled Null’s eyelids and dripped down. She held the white, satin pillow over her face, though she was sure Minnow couldn’t see her face regardless. Soon, Null drifted off to sleep.

She didn’t feel the hand upon her shoulder, nor the hand which drew away.

A few hours passed, and when Null awoke, the room was even darker than before. Her head still pounded, but the burning sensation was at best, a stuffy warmth.

She looked to her left and saw Minnow, asleep and laying on her side, facing away from Null near the edge of her bed. So close to the edge that the slightest jerking of movement, and she would have fallen to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Null whispered.

If it wasn’t for our fight earlier, we could have held each other while we slept. Instead, we just had to clash. That was real stupid of me. Wait. What am I apologizing for? She was very mean. It’s not my fault.

Null’s stomach gurgled. She sat up on the bed and felt dizzy and lightheaded.

“Ugh. I’d take a million stale biscuits if it meant I never had to starve. I’m so sick of not eating much, it’s unreal,” she complained and for a moment forgot to be quiet so as not to wake up Minnow.

“Mn,” Minnow murmured in her sleep.

“No, no, you stay asleep. That’s the least you deserve after dealing with my bullshit all day,” Null whispered and reached to pat Minnow’s shoulder, but reeled her hand away.

No. I don’t deserve that right now.

Before she could lay back down, Null felt the dreaded feeling between her legs. A cold, irritable feeling. She tried crossing her legs, but the feeling persisted.

GAAAH. Why now? Why can’t I stay in bed? She agonized, before at last giving in and crept out of the bed, navigating her way around Minnow’s sleeping form so as not to disturb her.

She waded through the room, trying to take small, slow, and soft footsteps. When she reached the door and turned the handle, the door opened with a ringing, loud squeak.

“No! Stop squeaking!” Null scolded the door, and frantically looked back at the bed only to see Minnow still asleep.

Null took a leap across the threshold connecting the room to the hallway. Once she was on the other side of the door, she pulled the handle toward her in a swift motion, that same squeak echoing once again in that same nails on a chalkboard manner.

“Haa...haa…” She huffed. All that time, Minnow remained asleep.

This feels all too familiar, Null thought as her shoulder still ached. Perhaps it always would. Even when the flesh healed, it would remain pink and tender, much softer and squishier than her skins should have been. If Null’s shoulder ended up scarring, it would be a large, jagged, scar. Less than glamorous, much less a story worth telling.

The hallway was black.

No, that wasn’t correct.

The hallway was still the sterile, sickening white that Minnow saw earlier, only shrouded in the blackness of the night.

It hurt to have her eyes open, but Null also couldn’t stand the thought of walking around with her eyes closed. If someone had offered her to walk through the hallway and into the living room blindfolded, she would have raised ‘being carried on a gurney’ as a counteroffer.

So with each hand gliding across the walls, she walked until she reached the wide space known as the ‘living room’.

It was less dark, with a hint of moonlight peeking through the curtains. She was able to make out the shapes of the sofa and the chairs. She saw a shadowy, blurry form that she assumed must have been granny. She couldn’t tell if the form was awake, or even alive, but what else were grannies for if not to wake them up when you needed help?

“Um,” Null spoke into the darkness, sheepishly. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Just up the stairs, dearie,” the voice spoke.

Huh. That was fast. I guess she was awake the whole time, Null thought.

She traced her hand across the walls until she met air once again and looked up to see the shape of stairs.

The stairs were long, wide, even, and they only seemed to get shorter and less wide the closer to the top she walked. To say that they stretched on for miles, however, without any sign of reaching the top, would have been an extreme exaggeration. One which Null felt to be the truth, perhaps due to the lingering illness and the flashes of red which surrounded her vision whenever she closed her eyes.

In reality, the walk to the door of the bathroom only took a couple of minutes, and once up, Null was surprised to find light upon flicking the switch next to the bathroom switch. She was flooded with a beam of white light.

“Wow. Electricity,” she mouthed out the words. It was almost too good, like an inconceivable heaven. One which she should not have been allowed to be in, and wouldn’t, if it was really a form of heaven.

There was a bathtub with green, plastic curtains. A porcelain sink. A porcelain toilet. And, of course, a closet where she was sure items like towels, toiletries, and tools like plungers and brushes were kept.

The closet door was one of those fold out ones, with shutters. She couldn’t make out anything inside, though, and probably by design.

She sat down on the toilet. There was a basin with a roll of paper next to her. After finishing up and washing her hands with a dry, and unscented bar of soap, she wiped her hands on the bottom of her uniform and turned to the bathtub.

“I could take a shower...It shouldn’t make too much noise,” was her proposal. She only got so far as undoing the belts across the uniform so as to loosen it up. When she tried to lift it up off of her, she found the cloth, the bandages, the fabric of her uniform, and the blood from the wound of her shoulder all stuck together and her trying to pull up only exacerbated the wound and felt small trickles of blood fall down her left arm.

She whimpered and her lips quivered. That mistake was one too many, and in a rush, she pulled the uniform back down and fastened the belts back over her uniform.

“My uniform’s already ruined due to my blunder. The top of the sleeve’s all torn up off. I doubt I could get a new one of these. Ugh...I at least wanted to wash my hair. It reeks and it’s all greasy. Does Minnow ever notice how bad I smell? Well, I guess it must be saying something that I don’t notice how bad she must smell. I’m positive she’s not bathing any more than I do.”

Null smiled. Out of everything, the fact that her traveling companion must have smelled just as bad as her put her at just a little more ease.

Pounding erupted from the closet door and a series of large, wooden mannequin dolls crashed over each other. One by one, they helped each other up, then set its sights on Null; some of them had carved indentations for eyes or noses, others had tufts of hay sewn into holes on the top of their head to resemble hair.

“Um. This isn’t a normal household, is it?” Null gulped. Her right arm shot forward, along with the slime from out of the zipper of her sleeve, and formed into a blade.

“H-H-Hey! Wait up!” She cried as the slime pulled her forward and the mannequins ran toward her. They beat their wooden balled fists against her and bruised up her side and her back as she swiped at the ones in front of her.

With ease, a couple were cut in half. As they were cut, Null noticed one thing:

No blood.

It all made sense under the assumption that the mannequins weren’t beasts and were simple animated figures made of wood, but if they weren’t beasts...what were they?

The ones to her side knocked her to the wall and she fell over. They started to try to pound against her, but with one swift slash across, those mannequins were cut up as well.

Reaching for the sink’s edge, Null managed to pull herself up. She ached, and it hurt just to move her left arm at all, but she stood and let out a huff.

The slime sunk back into Null’s sleeve and zipped it back up. She coughed, and her head started to pound with the dizzying spell returning in full force. She felt a heat against her head, a faintness, and sunk back to the floor.

After a minute, just as her vision was returning to her and her head was starting to clear up, she asked herself, wearily:

“What just happened?”

Before she could consider what had transpired, a shrill scream erupted from downstairs.

Minnow!

She was sure of it. By now, Minnow’s voice had been etched into her memory. No matter what happened, no matter how much time apart they may have from each other in the future, however short or long, Minnow’s voice was one thing she couldn’t forget.

Null pulled open the bathroom door, left the light on so she could see where she was going, and raced down the stairs. At certain points, she almost tripped and fell, but she continued moving.

Please be okay.

When she reached the bottom, she saw a large, centipede-like figure with two scythe-like pincers. It stood up, high enough to touch the ceiling, with its head bend down, staring at what must have been Minnow.

Indeed, she saw Minnow try to dash from one end, back toward the hallway, only for the beast to sway in her direction, to which she ran the other end. The beast traced her movements, as if toying with her, waiting for her to run out of breath, lose stamina, or make a single misstep.

Whatever you do, don’t run back into the bedroom, Null tried to warn, but her warning was contained in her thoughts. She was, at the moment, frozen, and left to watch, struggling to move.

I have to help her. But if I try to fight that beast, she’ll find out what’s attached to me. So even if it ends in a victory, I’ll be all alone again. Which may be for the best, but I didn’t sign up to be hated. At the same time, if I do nothing, she’ll die, and it will be my fault. AAAAAH! Why?! Why does she have to make it so hard? Why does this slime have to make it so hard? Why do I have to be stuck in this situation in the first place?!

Null glanced over to the kitchen. As luck would have it, she noticed the vase on the counter, and dashed over to it, grabbed it, and sprinted back into the living room and as she did so, tossed it at the beast.

“Haa...Ha…” Null’s heart pounded. The vase shattered, but the beast hardly seemed to notice. Null’s eyes darted around, but couldn’t find anything else to throw. Not unless I could lift that chair...but I doubt it.

“I’m sorry, granny!” Null shouted, “I didn’t mean to break it!”

The beast turned around and Null gasped upon seeing just between the pincers the stretched out face of Granny Hollyhock.

“You learned about the dolls, dearie, didn’t you? I heard you upstairs. Such a shame, you weren’t ready to be a doll yet, dearie. I needed another day to get the details right.”

Null didn’t notice it, but her face contorted to a scowl.

“Minnow! Run to the bathroom!” She commanded.

Minnow nodded, then ran. The beast, ‘granny’ tried to chase after, but Null stepped in. Were it not for Minnow grabbing Null’s arm, she would have been knocked down and pinned under the beast’s weight.

As the two ran up the stairs, the beast followed up and made a quick slashing motion with one of their pincers and while Null managed to avoid most of the cut, it still slashed right through the back of her jeans, just below her buttocks. A thin streak of blood ran down the back of her legs and Null yelped in pain. She tripped and scrambled to get back up to her feet, but as Minnow tried to help her back up, the beast grabbed onto Null’s hood with both of its pincers and dragged Null back down the stairs.

“Null!” Minnow shouted.

Although already at the top of the stairs, Minnow started to take a step back down to save Null once again.

However, Null had landed on the living room floor with a thud and was pinned under the encroaching beast, who leaned down with the distorted face of the old lady.

“Stay back, Minnow,” Null warned before turning her head back toward the beast. I might be done for, but Minnow’s one doll I can’t let this beast have.

Staring into such a hollowed out face, stretched thin as if rubber made Null’s own face go stiff and she seemed close to breaking into tears. Then, one of the pincers struck down onto the floor.

Minnow forced herself to watch the scene, but too frozen in place to make a move. Or rather, too in awe:

As the pincer struck down into the living room floor, Null managed to curl up and move her head out of the way in time. She watched the pincer, stuck in the living room floor, and as the pincer tried to pull itself out, a black, stringy substance revealed itself at the end of the pincer. Null grabbed onto it, pushed forward with both arms, and even as her arms shook, she pushed the pincer right into the beast’s own mouth.

How is she able to do that? Minnow wondered. How is she so strong?

She continued to push the pincer inward until she lifted herself up into a crouching position and shoved the pincer right through the other end of the beast’s head. Then, she ducked and released.

Before their very eyes, Null and Minnow watched the beast reel back and blood spill forth from the beast’s torn head.

In a rush, Minnow ran down the stairs, and Null ran toward the door. They both managed to shove their way out the door at the same time and landed down into the soft dirt just outside, in the moonlit night.

Minnow got up to slam the door shut, even though she was sure the beast had met its end.

Null sat up, next to the steps of the house, and broke into tears as her arms shook.

“It hurts...it hurts so much,” she sobbed.

“I can imagine. Managing such a feat has to take a toll on you, especially as your shoulder hasn’t had time to heal. I’m sure you’ll be sore in the morning,” Minnow replied.

Null shook her head.

“Not that.”

“Then what?” Minnow asked.

“I knew she was a beast the whole time. I just figured I could play along for a little while and it would be fine as long as you weren’t hurt.”

“But if you knew, why would you pretend you didn’t? I don’t get it.”

“Because if what you said was true...if I was never loved, then at least I could feel like I was a little while with a beast, even if I knew it was fake.”

Minnow’s eyes widened and she dropped to her knees.

“I’m sorry my words affected you so bad. I never meant to make you feel this way,” Minnow tried to comfort her, even though she didn’t know how.

What else could I say other than it’s my fault? She asked herself.

“It’s true, though, isn’t it?” Null continued to sob.

Unsure what else to do, Minnow extended her arms out.

Null leaned in and sobbed into Minnow’s chest. Salty tears and snot alike found their way onto Minnow’s blouse, but at the moment, that was such a small concern.

Minnow wrapped her arms around Null’s back and held her tight while Null continued to cry. In all her distress, Null couldn’t understand what was going on, only that she felt a strange warmth against her.

“You are loved,” Minnow whispered.

“I’m not,” Null argued, her voice muffled from trying to speak into Minnow’s chest.

Minnow didn’t say anything else and just held Null in place.

She was already aware that they were in a worse position than when they entered the house: their water bottle was left behind back in the house, and even if the beast was slain, neither of them wished to re-enter the house. All Minnow managed to grab from the house was a small sewing kit.

At least for now they could bask in the comfort of having survived the night.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 6

Within the cave, the darkness stretched out further than the actual length of the cave itself. Null’s mind ran wild as the thought of bears, spiders, scorpions, snakes, poisonous insects, and the possibility of other creatures creeping out from the shadows took hold. She tried to pry her eyes away from such darkness. Only for a second did she turn to see the rain from outside of the cave. Its heavy fall, the way each drop melted the leaves on the trees.

Once that second was up, she knew better to linger on the rainfall. There was still the matter of the darkness to contend with. What a silly notion it was to think that something like bears or bugs were the height of her worries. That wasn’t her world anymore: there were far worse creatures that lurked.

Part of her wanted to be closer to the cave’s entrance, even if it meant potentially being touched by the rain. But then that would have meant that Minnow would take her place. She risk putting Minnow in danger. At least if a beast were to jump out, Null had a means to fight back. But means wasn’t the same as ability – all in all, her position, any position she could have been in – was debilitating.

“Fancy weather we’re having, isn’t it?” She meant to say, an attempt at humor. Instead, she drew heavy breaths. Even the act of speech was too heavy a task.

“You look tense,” Minnow observed. Her words, as soft as they were, startled Null. From one corner of her eye, Minnow’s smile overtook the sight of the rainfall. Her cracked lips, creased in such a slight manner that she appeared relaxed. From the other end, the darkness and all its possibilities eviscerated any calming thoughts.

Another heavy breath drawn.

“Yeah,” Null admitted. She sounded like she just ran a marathon. Felt like it, too, as she folded her legs up and set her forehead against her knees.

“This is such a world now. It’s only the natural response,” she stated and her smile faded as she looked forward. Not toward the rain, but toward the other end of the cave wall.

Howls broke through the forest outside of the cave. Canine in nature, it could have signaled anything. Null looked over, but couldn’t make out a shape to match the sound. There were beasts large enough that no matter how high up the cave her and her companion resided in, it would serve as no protection.

Null had seen such things herself: beasts which took humanoid shapes, but with deer skulls on each shoulder, limbs from animal carcasses attached to their backs. Rows upon rows of teeth, eyes upon tongues. Blood and mangled fur and a brazen look.

Null fought such a beast just the other day; Minnow pointed to a cave high up, and the climb was rough, but both women managed. They had blankets, they had a small supply of food, but it wasn’t much. Null slipped away, climbed down and ran into the woods below the cave. She claimed that she had to relieve herself and wanted some privacy. Minnow nodded, and asked that she not stray too far and make it back quick.

As soon as Null was down from the cave, she ran out and made a considerable distance away. She couldn’t bear to let Minnow see what was attached to her arm, or what she was about to do. In truth, she was looking to find relief, just not the same kind Minnow assumed. See, for the last few days, the slime attached to Null had been hungry and sapping away at Null’s blood.

Her back stood still between each tree as her heart begged for release. Each second she spent not on the move was spent listening for any sign of danger. Rattle sounds were heard nearby: skeletons. She knew that sound all too well and an image filled her mind, one which she wished to forget. She heard some crawl up from the soil and knew they had to be near. Some days she thought it would have been best to surrender to the world and let herself bleed to death instead of struggling to live, especially a life like hers, which held no value.

When she could no longer hear the skeleton rattles, she crouched behind a tree and stopped to catch her breath. She grew faint and the green and brown that made up the trees and grass swirled before her.

That respite was short lived as a howl erupted. At the same instance, the tree she stood behind snapped in two and she rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the fallen tree crashing on her.

Two deep breaths, followed by an ever-pounding heartbeat.

The beast roared and she looked up to see it: a giant two legged beast, with several severed limbs attached to its back, skulls on each shoulder, and a head with two, pointy ears, and a large gaping maw filled with several bristly teeth. Null’s first thought was, werewolf. But she hadn’t heard of any human that could look like a beast, nor a beast that could shift into a human form. This was...something else, that she was sure. It didn’t even really have eyes, and its head looked more like a pile of moss vaguely shaped to resemble a canine’s head. On the back of its ankles were two tin bells. They rattled about.

That’s what I heard? She asked herself, and her eyes widened when she realized the sounds she heard weren’t skeleton rattles, but the bells. Her eyes darted as she noticed the giant claws the creature had spread out: ten long, clawed fingers on each hand, which curled and uncurled like a spider weaving its web.

There’s no way I can take something like this on, she thought. Null should have known better, given the other beasts she’s fought, some much tougher than the one in front of her, but the sight still shook her to her core.

The beast swiped its claws toward her, and she stepped back, only to trip over herself and fall onto her butt.

It pounced and she scrambled to her feet and darted away, off into the trees. Null maneuvered between trees and hid, only to hear the beast close behind with its snarls and growls. The pungent scent of rotten meat filled the air and she gagged, but held her breath.

Null’s slime unzipped the sleeve to her hooded uniform and morphed into its blade form. She looked down at the red beast she had come to accept was a part of her.

“You want this, huh?” Null asked in a whisper. The slime shook her right arm, as if to say yes.

That’s what I was afraid of, Null gulped.

She let out a succession of short breaths. She wanted them to be deeper, to calm herself, but she couldn’t manage that, and her breaths turned into hiccuping pants.

Beside the tree which she stood at, the mouth of the beast snarled just overhead and she smelled its hot breath, that same putrid breath that had filled her nostrils before.

As she gagged, the beast knocked over another tree. This time, she ducked down, hands over her head, and the tree fell off to the side. The beast wasted no time kicking her to the side and she rolled off a few paces back.

She wasn’t too hurt, but the idea of fighting such a thing just filled her with too much dread. Her right arm moved, still a blade, and held itself up in front of her.

“Whoa, there!” She reacted as the slime on her arm pulled her forward.

The beast charged at her and swiped. Again, she ducked under, but this time, her right arm shot up, and the blade attached to it made a swipe of its own, right along the beast’s arm. A stream of blood sprinkled out and the slime reached out to catch it.

“What a weirdo,” Null looked up with a dull expression. Just as she did so, the beast craned its head down and tried to clamp its mouth down onto her. She pulled herself out of the way, and held her right arm while directing it to strike the beast under its chin. The blade pierced through the beast’s mouth. Null pulled down the blade out by holding onto her right arm with her left and tugging. The slime attached to her understood well enough what she meant and did as instructed.

“Ah. Thank you. Looks like you can be good sometimes,” she wheezed out. As blood seeped out from the beast’s mouth, Null’s victory was short lived; the beast grabbed Null with one large hand and tossed her next to a tree.

Her back was scraped and bruised, but she picked herself up.

The beast once again charged and the limbs on its back twitched about and reached for her. In a quick series of strikes, Null slid to the side and sliced off several of the limbs.

The beast spun around and tried to strike with its claw, but the slime defended Null with its blade form and pushed its way against the beast’s claw. Null, for an instant, was shocked, but shook her head, and pushed herself toward the beast in order for the blade to dig its way in further. The blade sliced the beast’s claw in two and with another strike, it sliced the beast’s entire hand off.

Null leaped back. Her heart still thumped, and it was only for the past few minutes that she didn’t notice its rhythm. Now, however, it was too loud to ignore.

Please stop. Please. I’m trying to wrap this up, she begged her heart, even though her heart wouldn’t listen. Null whimpered and thought, my body never listens to me.

In front of her, the beast staggered, but continued to advance toward her. She blinked several times and realized that she still wasn’t as close to being done as she wished she was. In fact, two long, bladed tendrils shot out from the stump where the beast’s clawed hand had been. They swayed about, and Null stared with her mouth agape.

“Why? Why can’t this be over?” She pouted. Tears were close to filling her face, so she wiped her eyes, then looked about for what to do.

The tendrils shot forward, and the blade blocked each one. But the blades at the end of the tendrils hooked onto the slime blade and knocked Null down, flat on her stomach. Her forehead almost fell onto the slime blade, but she held her head up before it could knock itself into the blade. She looked up, and as she did so, the tendrils struck down, prompting her to roll out of the way.

Those two tendrils slammed down and bore its way into the ground, shooting out dry soil from the forest floor.

My clothes are getting so dirty. I’m not too hurt, but I can just tell Minnow’s going to have questions when I get back, Null gulped at the thought of trying to come up with some excuse as to why she’d be returning in her current state.

“Okay, so think...this could be worse. I could be so much more injured, for one,” she started counting on her fingers, “and another thing, I could have been dead by now. One thing that’s not so good is that by the time this is over, I’m definitely going to have to pee.”

The beast let out a gurgling growl, snapping Null back in place as to what her current situation was.

The tendrils shot forth again, and this time, she rolled forward and struck up. Her heart still felt like it was going to fall out of her chest, and every little bit of her shook and ached. The tendrils fell, but new tendrils seemed to be taking its place. Despite noticing that, she decided to ignore it and run into the beast, hold her right elbow up and pierce the beast in the chest with the back of her slime’s blade.

“AAAAAH!” She yelled. Blood sprayed out from the beast’s chest, and she was sure she struck its heart. She pulled out and stepped back. The beast stood in place, twitched and flexed, but soon it fell forward with a thud. Its mouth moved, another twitch. That was the last movement it made.

Null’s slime took notice and pulled her forward toward the beast’s chest where it forced her right arm to dig into the beast’s chest. She felt the moist wetness, the metallic scent filled her nostrils. She gagged and spat out thick mucus. She felt the slime absorb every bit of blood from not only the beast’s insides, but also the blood that happened to spray on her fist, and cover her clothes.

By the time it had hollowed out the beast, she shook and retched again. There wasn’t a hint of beast blood on her clothes, and she knew she had the slime to thank for that, but she still said with a gasping breath:

“You need to learn to be less of a messy eater.”

The slime had retreated back into her sleeve and she took feeble steps back toward the cave. Despite her victory, her heart didn’t ease up and she didn’t feel any sense of satisfaction from the ordeal.

When she reached the cave, Minnow had taken a nap in the blanket she found. Her head was down and Null didn’t want to disturb her.

Wants were different than actions.

“THERE WAS A BEAST!” Null shouted. Minnow, startled, jumped out of her seat and looked up.

“Where?” She asked.

“Um. When I was out. I fell, and that’s why there’s dirt on my clothes!” Null explained with brisk, rushed breaths. She felt just a little satisfied by what she had said, as it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Are you hurt? Did the beast follow you back here?” Minnow asked. A serious, creased brow expression was etched onto Minnow’s face.

Crap. I wouldn’t be questioned right now if I had just let her sleep, Null panicked, and looked down on the forest floor, then further into the cave. She didn’t think the cave stretched far, nor were there any beasts in the cave.

“Um...no, I’m not. I managed to give the beast the slip and hide out in a tree. But I’m sorry! You told me not to stray too far, but I did!”

Minnow smiled, and Null’s first thought was that Minnow’s smile meant bad news.

“May I hug you?” Minnow asked.

Null gulped.

“Maybe just a little,” Null relented, and thought, maybe this is my punishment for lying to her.

Null leaned down and Minnow reached her arms around Null’s back and pulled her in. Minnow held Null tight, and Null’s body ached. With a sweet whisper, Minnow said into Null’s ear, “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Null thought her heart had relaxed just a moment ago, but it went back to thumping along. She really wished she could stamp out her heart and make it stop its excessive tempo.

“Th...Thank you,” Null struggled to say.

I have to be more careful around Minnow, Null thought.

Now, in the rain, she wondered if those howls she heard were from the same kind of beast that she had fought the other day. At the same time, it was just as likely to be the wind making such ghastly howls.

“Remember that journal we found about a week ago?” Minnow asked.

Was she so afraid of the silence that she just had to break it? Another shameful thought breached through Null’s head.

Null nodded. Her eyes weren’t fixed on her companion, but the rain that refused to let up.

“What did you think of it?”

After Null and Minnow had read from it, Minnow buried it and claimed there was no reason to dwell on it, and that it was in the end, of no importance.

“Why do you ask?” Null answered Minnow’s question with another.

“It’s been on my mind. What if we see that beast that she did?”

“It’s possible. There are many beasts out there. That person also claimed to have been suffering from hallucinations.”

Minnow nodded and hung her head low. Null wanted to sleep, but the sound of rain was too loud.

That person. The author of that journal. It hit too close to home, Null thought.

“It’s hard to think of a corpse as anything other than a corpse,” Minnow continued, “but I keep thinking back to that girl’s sister, Millie. She abandoned her in her time of need, didn’t she? I think that if I was Millie, I would have been there for my sister and would have never left her alone.”

“Did you ever have a sister?” Null asked.

“Yes. And a brother. They’re both gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What about you?”

“Hmm...I had a brother. Much older. We were like seven years apart. I was 25 on the day of the calamity, he was 32. I’m sure he’s dead now. He never wanted anything to do with me, and just being around him punctuated how worthless I was, so in other words, the feeling was mutual. My parents were always saying how accomplished he was, having studied at a university in England called Clock Tower University. It’s said that only near-geniuses are allowed in that school, and my parents would flaunt that any chance they’d get. They’d even say things like, ‘why can’t you be more like David?’ And...because I’m defected, obviously? They knew it as much as I did. Not to mention, I’m not a boy, so that was already out of the question. I heard he went on to be a professor at that university. Anyway, I’d like to think that place crumbled to the ground and took him with it.”

“That’s horrible. You’d really wish death on your brother?”

Null gulped.

“N-No. That’s not it. It’s just a matter of fact, right? Given there was a calamity, I’m betting he either got buried underneath that place, or a beast killed him. Doesn’t matter, anyway, since he was overseas, so I wouldn’t have to see him even if he were alive. But do I wish death on him? Not really. If anything, I think I should have died a long time ago. But this world doesn’t really care whether you’re strong or smart, and will take whoever it pleases.”

“I think you’re strong, Null.”

“I’m not. I’m weak.”

“I don’t think so, but even if you’re weak, I’m glad you’re alive.”

“That makes no sense. Besides, everyone who’s ever known me would agree that I would have been better off never being born, but here I am. Worse is, I never wanted to depend on others, and it’s just that I’m so pathetic that I can’t do anything but let others take care of me. It’s disgusting.”

“That was before you met me.”

When you say things like that…

Tears began to fill Null’s face and she squinted and rubbed her eyes until they were swollen, but at least the tears were gone. Despite having gotten rid of those nasty, salty things, they returned with a vengeance once she opened her mouth to speak again.

“You’ll see how horrible I am sooner or later. Someone like me, who obsesses over the smallest of gestures as if they were the greatest acts of kindness. Someone who couldn’t even tie her shoes without breaking down.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you obsessed over me,” Minnow smiled.

“What are you saying?” Null was baffled, and still too nervous to look Minnow in the eye.

Minnow held the blanket up to her face and giggled.

“I just think it would be nice to be a constant on someone’s mind,” Minnow said with a sigh.

“Is there anything you’re afraid of?” Null asked, eyebrow raised, head still turned away. It sounded accusatory or passive-aggressive the way it came out of her mouth, but she meant it in every bit the wonder that Minnow exhibited every time words parted her lips.

“Of course,” Minnow answered.

“Really? It just seems like you’re fearless and take everything in stride,” that time, Null would have admitted, was closer to being an accusation.

“Even now, with you here by me, I am afraid,” Minnow retained her smile, even if her words came out more coarse.

“Really?”

“I’m afraid that at some point, I’ll lose you. Worse, I’m afraid of not being able to save you.”

“But what’s there to lose? You lose me, and nothing is lost.”

“Please don’t joke like that.”

“Sorry,” Null buried her head in her knees. She didn’t mean it as a joke, but Minnow sounded offended all the same.

“What about you? Is there anything you’re afraid of?”

Now who’s talking about jokes? Null thought and almost cracked a smile before she tackled the question in earnest.

“It would be easier to list what I’m not afraid of,” Null scoffed before being once again lost in thought: then again, that’s also hard. Is there anything that doesn’t scare me?

“So you think you’re afraid of everything?” Minnow pondered.

“Everything, everyone, at any given time. The only reason I’m alive is because I’m too scared to die, and life itself is scary.”

Minnow scowled at that last statement.

“I have felt your life, and although it may seem scary, I know how precious it is,” Minnow mused, “I treasure your life.”

“That’s scary, too. What could be so precious about such a forgettable life?”

“There’s no way I would forget such warmth so easily.”

There Minnow goes again, talking nonsense, Null had already grown accustomed to Minnow’s eccentric way of romanticizing both the horrors of the world and litter found on the ground alike.

What Null had not expected was for Minnow to point at her, and what more, for Null to turn and look at Minnow with bewilderment.

“There’s something you’re not afraid of: you’re not afraid to be honest about what scares you!” Minnow declared with such conviction that Null thought Minnow could have been an attorney.

“Th...That…” Null was at a loss for words, even though she could have stated that, in her defense, she was only honest about that because there were worse things she was hiding. Then, as evidence, she could have pulled up her sleeve.

Null had a little more sense than to do that.

“See?” Minnow smiled and nodded, arms folded, “there’s at least one thing that doesn’t scare you. Then, there’s how often you speak your mind.”

“What? By saying how miserable I am? I believe people used to call that ‘whining’.”

“For the record, I prefer that over people who lied and said that they were fine. It’s much easier to help someone when they’re being honest.”

“What if someone doesn’t want your help?”

Minnow’s eyes went wide and she reeled back.

“Well...then they should say so! I wouldn’t force anyone to accept help, but those who do want help should be honest about it!”

The way Minnow puffed her cheeks, Null prepared to laugh, and only stifled back a snicker after considering how angry Minnow might have been if she did.

“Honestly, I’ve tried faking it so many times, and I always fail. Even now, I want to say anything else to make myself look better, and I promise you: I’m not an honest person. No matter how sincere I may seem to you, if you look far enough, you can find sand where edges should be.”

“Even when you say that – I’m not afraid of you,” Minnow shook her head.

“Are you sure? Or do you just find me a safe alternative to the beasts below?”

“I wonder about that...I admit, I do feel safe around you.”

Null searched her mind, but found no words.

“So you’re afraid of everything?” Minnow asked.

“That’s right,” Null answered and felt a sense of pride.

“Even love?”

“Even love?!” Null spat, baffled by such a question. She thought before answering: But I’d expect nothing less from Minnow who at this point has been nothing but baffling. “Especially love!”

“What’s so scary about it?” Minnow was quick to ask.

“You mean, what’s not scary about it? Love itself is scary. People liked to throw that word around all the time, but did anyone really know what it meant? What if one person’s idea of love doesn’t match with the other’s?”

“I’ve heard before that love is just a chemical reaction,” Minnow added.

“Oh yeah, there’s that excuse, too: emotions are all brain chemicals, aren’t they? When you think of it that way, no wonder some people are considered ‘toxic’,” Null joked, but when she saw that Minnow didn’t laugh, she continued from where she left off. “So by that measure, it’s not that love isn’t real, but there’s no way to make it consistent, is there? No one is constantly happy, so how is anyone supposed to constantly be in love?”

“It’s not just about the feeling, then, is it? But the act of caring. That you’re a constant on someone’s mind. That just the thought of them makes you smile. That even if you don’t feel a strong way about them at the moment, that you know for a fact that you still love them. Is that so scary?”

“Yes! Notions like that, do they really mean anything? Do I really want someone to be on my mind? If anything, that just means that when I mess up, and I will, that they’ll be staring at me extra hard. And what about if someone else was on my mind? Does that person want me on their mind or do I repulse them? Sometimes in the past, I have been elated to talk to people online, and I thought it was love, and maybe it was something like infatuation, but that’s not love, and I was always too hasty. It’s always been disastrous.”

“Do I repulse you?”

Null shook her head.

“But that’s all the more reason to be afraid,” Null swayed and fidgeted.

“Why?”

“Because I’m the one who should be worried about repulsing you.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone I’ve ever been around has been better than me. So being around you, I feel like I have to be on my best behavior, but even saying that out loud, I know I’m going to slip up.”

“You don’t have to be so stiff around me, Null.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Not at all – I’ve never been so comfortable around anyone else. It must be because we’re constant companions.”

“See, that’s the other thing: no matter what kind of love it is, people like to throw around such bold statements, like ‘I’ll never give up on you’ or ‘I want to share my life with you’. You can’t know that for sure. People can grow apart, and you never know how long you have to live. No matter how you slice it, statements like that are not only careless, but terrifying. It gives people expectations which seldom can be lived up to.”

“But Null: I want to share my life with you.”

“Oh, don’t you start…”

“You gave me your life, so I want to share mine with you.”

Null shook her head. She felt like she had fallen into a trap.

“I’m serious, Null. You’re like home to me.”

Null gulped and her face slumped into a frown.

“You must have had a bad home life,” Null retorted.

“I did. But it’s okay, because I have you now.”

Null gulped again.

“I don’t know what that’s like, I mean, my home life was pretty normal. My parents would yell at me and call me worthless, but that’s only because it’s true, and they’d hit me and throw things at me, but that’s only because I was always screwing things up and they were trying to encourage me to do better. It wasn’t their fault that I kept failing anyway.”

“Null. That’s not normal.”

“What? I’m pretty sure that’s how most families are.”

“I don’t think so.”

“How would you know? You said yourself that you had a bad home life.”

Minnow’s face pressed together into a deep scowl, and her lips quivered. Null wanted to back away upon seeing such a drastic shift in expression, but there was nowhere else to back away to.

“I know what I went through wasn’t right! I didn’t deserve for my parents to neglect and walk out on me, and you didn’t deserve to be treated so harshly! If they never cared for us, why even bother having kids?”

“My parents cared for me. It was just tough love.”

“Tough love? If that’s what you think it was, no wonder you’re terrified of love.”

“I mean, I loved them.”

“How did you feel when they died?”

“I...uh...I just kind of went ‘oh well’ and walked on.”

“I don’t think you’d have been like that if you had been given proper love. You said yourself that your brother never wanted anything to do with you. It seems like you didn’t have any love growing up.”

“It’s normal, though, right? Doesn’t everyone have that kind of life? So maybe it’s me that’s incapable of love. Besides, I didn’t want anything to do with my brother either.”

“If that’s what normal is, then the world was even more fucked up than I thought! Maybe it’s better that everyone’s dead, because that shouldn’t be normal! We should have been loved!”

Minnow’s fists shook. Tears formed around her eyelids, and Null noticed them and took it as a sign that it was all her fault.

“I’m sorry,” Null whispered.

“It’s not your fault. It’s the fault of this stupid world we were born into.”

Null wanted to cry as well, but was too shaken to bring herself to feel anything but confusion. No matter how you slice it, this is my fault, she thought, and curled up on the cave’s stony floor.

“Maybe I just don’t know what ‘normal’ is,” Null conceded while shivering.

Even though Null didn’t notice how much she was shivering, Minnow took notice and threw the blanket at Null.

“Hey, what was that?” Null looked up.

“You’re cold. You should take it,” Minnow made little shooing gestures.

Rather than pull the blanket up, Null set the blanket aside, in the middle of the cave floor.

“You deserve it more than I do,” Null argued.

“We can share if you want.”

“No, thank you.”

Minnow, frustrated, didn’t take the blanket and just mirrored Null’s position as she curled up on the cold, stone floor across from Null. She faced the tangerine haired girl and hoped that their eyes would meet. But Null’s eyes were already closed.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 11

Morning came with a crisp and cool atmosphere, the moisture and dew from the rainy night before decorating the leaves of the trees, the grass, and other flowers which sprouted up some time ago. Despite the morning chill, it was bright, yet not unbearably so. Perfect weather.

Or at least, the young man who carried the large brown backpack, overflowing with goods, thought so. The straps of his backpack were always in danger of coming loose, but even if they broke, he made sure to carry the necessary supplies to put them back together. Mother always did teach him to prepare for any situation.

He traveled along a dirt trail, left behind as a reminder of the civilization which used to occupy the surrounding area.

Each step was deliberate. One foot in front of the other, always in a straight line, always along the soft, dirt trail. Even if he tripped on a pebble, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall. His constant slouch, burdened by the weight of his bag, wouldn’t stop him from moving, even if he moved like a turtle.

Life in the new world was harsh; he’s walked past his fair share of mangled corpses, some hung from trees, others from lampposts of wrecked cities. But despite all the harrowing images, he walked on and considered everything he saw as an opportunity to learn more about how the world has changed.

In his green satchel which he kept tied around his waist, he unzipped the seal and pulled out a thick notebook with its bindings made of snakeskin (corn snake, to be precise, sometimes referred to as a red rat snake) as well as his golden steel fountain pen (gifted to him by mother). On a fresh sheet of mulch notebook paper, he scrawled:

“Man-made trails can still be found along certain parks, forest, and natural areas. While some cities have already been overtaken by plant life.”

While he tried to fill his notebook with any observations he could find, be it the most mundane or the most interesting, he had to admit that not everything has changed so soon. It made him wonder how useful his notes would be to another.

“Self-doubt is unfortunate, but both inevitable and necessary,” was an adage his mother would always say. She often had nuggets of advice like that. Were it not for her advice, he wondered just how long he would have survived for.

In conclusion: it wasn’t his place to decide what would or would not be useful. It was merely his duty to write down whatever he observed.

In front of him was a clearing where a blue sky with clouds that reminded him of mashed potatoes rested. Ah, father was such a great cook when it came to potatoes. Seeing those clouds reminded him of those special nights when he would feast upon potato pancakes.

“One day,” he told himself, “I would like to taste those again.”

Maybe it was foolish, naive, even a little optimistic, but that was just who he was: he believed in the human spirit to overcome any obstacle and adapt to any change in environment. As long as he held out, he was sure that he would taste the sweetness of a potato pancake once more.

If he met his end before he could savor another potato pancake, there was still the chance that another person out there would carry on and craft the dish that he couldn’t. Maybe it wasn’t the same, but someone else being able to eat one of his favorite sweets was almost as good as the idea of him devouring it once more.

“Clouds today remind me of potato pancakes,” he jotted down. Usually, he didn’t write anything personal in his notebook, as he would rather it serve as a tool to help others than as an insight into his own life. Of course, he knew true objectivity was impossible. For that one note, however, he decided to make an exception. “Note to self: write down potato pancake recipe.”

That way, when others might stumble across his journal, for whatever reason, they might end up taking interest in the recipe and decide to replicate it themselves.

Droplets of slick, sticky rain flew out in front of him. Some landed on the cover of his notebook and on the hems of his cape made of brown bearskin (another family heirloom). His cape often made him itchy, and on hot days it collected a lot of sweat, making it an almost unbearably swampy experience. But in the winter, his cape could be used as a makeshift blanket and sheltered him from the cold.

By some stroke of luck, his peach cream colored shirt with a button-down neck was untouched. He smiled as he patted himself down.

That joy was short lived when looked up in time to see that a four-legged beast, the size of a large dog, leaped out and blocked his path. Rather than the paws of a dog, it seemed to have hooves, like a bull or a horse. Its mouth, with its sharp, jagged teeth, hung low and wide as corrosive drool dripped down from its mouth and melted away at the very ground it stood over. Rather than a set of eyes, the beast’s upper head was comprised of many snakes, each of varying species. Or at least, that’s the closest thing they resembled. To tell the truth, they looked to furry to be snakes. Too disjointed, and with bones protruding from some of them.

His heart rate accelerated and he felt the urge to press his hand against his chest. Air blew from his nostrils, a heavy puff, and the closest thing he could do to try to draw breaths.

No, he wasn’t sure whether to run or stay still. Either way could have spelled disaster.

Then, he heard the death rattle of the beast’s tails. He hadn’t noticed them before, but now he got a good look at them as they swayed about: there were multiple, at least four, all connected together, and shaped like a series of yellow rings stacked over each other, each ring smaller than the one below it.

Next came another warning sound: a series of harsh, low barking noises. Except they sounded muffled, as if someone had recorded a large dog barking, then played it back through a stereo while the stereo was covered up by a towel. There was no better way to explain it, but the sound shook him so hard that he hopped back and almost fell to the ground. One foot danced about, trying to reclaim its balance.

There would be no other warnings: the beast charged forth and the snakes, or whatever they were, readied their jaws as well.

Rather than brace for impact, he pulled out a silver, cylindrical object and pressed a black button off to the side. What the head of one of the snake-like creatures attached to the beast met was not the skin of the young man but instead a jolt of electricity which ran down the beast’s neck and surged around until static danced through the beast’s entire body.

The beast didn’t let out a yell, no hiss, no howls of pain. But instead, the beast’s head drooped down, followed by the many snake-like creatures. The beast backed away, then walked off behind a bush.

“Note: electricity seems to pacify beasts. While they appear unharmed, they will momentarily cease attack and should buy the potential victim enough time to escape. I first encountered this phenomena when I passed by the ruins of a city and a beast stepped onto a downed power line. With power outages in most areas, and a limited supply of batteries, it may not be a long-term solution.”

He wrote that down one afternoon, and after acquiring a taser, he found a lucky break. Ever since, he kept the taser with him in his satchel, right alongside his notebook. Although he was worried about how much battery life there still was in that thing, he couldn’t deny its effectiveness. Indeed, he lost count of the number of times that taser had saved him.

More than anything, he wanted to kiss his taser, but the fear of getting shocked by his own salvation proved too great a risk.

One deep breath drawn in, followed by an exhale.

He continued on, his movements unsteady. The bright sky ahead grew fuller with every step he took, and he could almost grasp for it.

One more step…

The ground crumbled under him.

He felt how shallow, how brittle the soil was before he fell, but as his bag weighed him down and impeded his movements, he was unable to step away in time.

So came the short descent, met with darkness as he landed on his own backpack. Important items like plates and mugs shattered, some of the pieces scraping against his back along the way. He winced, but when he looked ahead at where he had fallen, he found that he couldn’t see ahead at all: indeed, in front of him was a soft darkness. Not that it was so black that all light was extinguished, but the sunlight from above didn’t seem to do much to illuminate past the shadow.

“Now let’s see…” He muttered while rummaging through his satchel and drew brisk, hefty breaths. His poor heart worked overdrive to keep him steady. “I know I have a flashlight around here somewhere…”

Before he could find any such thing, more of the ground above sank under, both on his side, and the other, more mysterious side. While dirt fell on his head like a waterfall of sand, he was too fixated on what, if anything, was behind the shadow in front of him. As more dirt clear, he began to see what looked like a smooth, soft pink-hued mass.

He gulped. It didn’t take much to know what that meant.

Little by little, the beast revealed itself: it looked like a large, human brain, or maybe a giant pink clump of cauliflower. Little wires danced about the beast which resembled either snake tongues or veins, with their red, and forked ends.

Those tangled mess of appendages got caught up in each other, only to untangle and pulsate with each movement.

An acidic, stomach churning feeling filled him. Said feeling made him want to cough, to spit out whatever bile had found its way into his system. But worst of all, he didn’t see a way out of the hole: while he suffered little to no injury with his fall, the way back up was too high for him to reach. Even the beast didn’t reach the surface, and it was large enough that three tall people stacked on top of each other would have only barely met the beast’s height.

Can I even use my taser on this thing? He asked himself, but even though his hands shook, he knew he had to try.

His shaking hands, as small as they were, felt heavy under his control. It took a swift swipe for him to pull his taser out and grasp it in his hands.

In front of him, the pink, clumpy mass turned from idly moving by to aware of the young man’s existence. A vertical slit spread open across the beast’s mass and once it was fully opened, a milky white surrounded the inside of the slit, while a green-hued pupil formed.

“No way...it’s an eye…” He whispered.

Sticky, clear moisture dripped from the beast’s eye and corroded the earthen floor below. He watched spots on the ground dissolve.

The appendages, which continued to dance about, drew its focus toward the young man and shot forward. He clicked on his taser and the confined bit of static swayed at the top. Naive, maybe, but he thought that as long as the electricity reached the beast, he could still get out of such a mess. However, that would prove not to be the case:

The beast slapped the taser out of his hand, knocking it to the ground beside him.

“No!” He gasped and tried to crawl toward his one hope of escape. Instead, it grabbed the taser before he could reach it and slammed the metallic device against the dirt walls.

It smashed into shards. He let out yet another gasp.

I’m really done for, aren’t I?

His face stiffened and he gasped as his body seemed to have grown cold. He wouldn’t have been surprised to have found out that his face turned blue.

The larger than life eye peered down at him with its emerald green pupil. It bore no expression that he could discern, but something in the deep recesses of his mind told him that the beast oozed malice.

Rather than attack again, another part to the beast emerged just underneath its eye: it was yellow, and had two components which were triangular in shape and curved outward. One below, the other above. He recognized, or at least believed it to be a beak.

The beast’s beak opened wide, no visible tongue, no teeth, yet it made its call all the same: a piercing, shrill shriek, like a distorted rooster calling to announce that it was morning.

He crawled back and tucked himself against his backpack. Not that he thought its contents could protect him, but that his desire to cling onto anything, even the most feeble sign of protection, was far too strong to outweigh any sense of reason.

That was when a shadow from above cast over and grayed out the skies themselves. With a large, looming line pointed forward, the shadow expanded and drew closer.

As if things weren’t bad enough, he thought. Whatever shock he had turned into resignation as he imagined whatever beast approached would join in on their hunt for the young man. That, or fight the other beast first, before turning its attention to the young man.

Either way, I don’t see a way out of here. What else can I say other than it’s over?

Faint sounds of thuds against the ground above shook the foundation and caused more specks of dirt to fall onto him. In a blur, the approaching creature leaped into the air and all the young man could catch before the creature landed was a glimpse of tanned, reddish-brown skin arms which held onto a towering slab, perhaps made of stone.

The figure landed on top of the large, pink beast and plunged the tip of the slab into the beast. Part of the figure was obscured in shadow, but he caught enough of a glimpse to notice two toned muscular arms and legs in short, white cotton shorts and a plain, white short-sleeved shirt.

Wait. That beast...is human?

That person, who he first assumed to be a beast, cackled a loud and riotous laughter which echoed through the pit. They pulled the slab out and repeatedly plunged it back inside, causing slick, red fluids to seep out of every puncture and the beast’s eye to water in pain while shrieking.

Those vein-like appendages tried focusing its attention on the person, only for them to pull out its heavy weapon and spin it, and themselves, around, while cutting off each appendage in the process.

Wait. They can harm the beast? How? His astonishment ran so deep that he couldn’t decide whether he was terrified or impressed.

The water from the eyes burned into the ground and saliva eked out as the beast howled.

Is it...crying? He asked itself.

For as horrible as the beast was, he wanted to extend some form of sympathy, but knew no way how. Worse, his primary emotion took over and urged him to cheer on the beast’s slaughter.

In the end, he did neither, and only watched as the strange person leaped back into the air, arm held out, carrying the large slab in one hand. He recognized that the slab was none other than a weapon, more specifically, a sword. It wasn’t just a thick slab that surpassed the person’s own height, but a smooth, crafted one with its tip a sharp, triangular edge.

“AAAAAAA –!” The person shouted and charged at the beast, carrying their blade with both hands this time. That they were able to carry that weapon with one hand was impressive enough, but that they ran with such a heavy, ungodly thing, was even more impressive.

The young man caught a better glimpse: this person’s back was wide, well-built, thick, yet toned. Their hair was black and short in a bowl haircut, and covered the top half of their ears, while he noticed a small, pearl pierced into both of their earlobes.

The oddity of a person dug their blade into the bottom of the beast’s face, just underneath the beak, and dragged their blade upward, cutting through part of the eye in the process. Blood seeped out and splashed down. His morbid thoughts turned to the idea of the beast’s blood fertilizing the earth and feeding any plant life that may have taken root.

Some of the vein-like limbs remained intact and thorns grew along them. The young man decided in that moment that rather than veins, those appendages resembled the branches of a rose bush.

I must be losing my mind. I can’t decide on what to call things, I can only come up with that which I’m familiar with, even in the depths of despair, he couldn’t stop himself from making observations.

Those thorny appendages slammed their way in the direction of the person.

Said person dashed off to the side and hacked away at some of the appendages, most of them missing the figure. One of them, however, managed to brush up against the person’s upper arm and deliver a fresh, bloody cut.

“Ah! AH! GOOD ONE!” They shouted. At first, the young man thought these shouts were in rage, but now that he got a glimpse of the person’s face, he recognized a toothy grin with and undeniable joy. There was a fire in that person’s simple, black eyes which signaled not anger, but delight. “IT WOULDN’T BE FUN IF ONLY ONE OF US GOT HURT!”

This person may be a human, but I changed my mind: they may as well be a beast as well, he observed in terror.

“I’M GOING TO TEAR YOU TO PIECES!” The sword-wielder shouted with a murderous joy and cackled while rushing toward the beast.

He couldn’t watch anymore. He closed his eyes.

Despite doing so, he still heard the grunts from the person and the sickening laughter, followed by howls from the beast.

All other sounds were soon blocked out until he thought that peace had come at last. Deep down, he wouldn’t have minded staying in the position was at, so long as he no longer had to be subjected to the madness in front of him. However, any peace that could have been derived was interrupted by a snapping sound, followed by a deep cast shadow which ended in a thud to the ground that shook the entire pit and caused him to leap up from where he sat. His eyes opened wide.

In front of him was the fallen remains of the large, soft pink beast, covered in dried, red streaks, and chunks of its form strewn around the pit. That monstrous person leaped over the fallen beast and was readying to make their way up, sheathing their blade back behind them on a strap attached to their back.

“Hey! I’m over here! Help me!” The young man shouted.

When the figure turned around, with some of the beast’s blood stained onto their clothes, there was a piercing glare plastered onto the figure’s face. The young man gulped and wondered if he had made a mistake calling out to the unsettling stranger.

But, just as fast, the glare turned into a smile.

“Oh! I didn’t know there was someone down here!” Their voice wasn’t so frightening now, but instead bright and cheery. How, after slaughtering such a creature, they could be so chipper, he just couldn’t understand. “Come on, then, reach for my hand and I’ll help you up!”

He tried to get up, but found his backpack too heavy to lift up by himself. It could have been the shock that drained all strength from him.

“I...I can’t…” He struggled to say, “my backpack…”

“Leave it,” the stranger dismissed, all while holding that wide, dopey smile, “what’s more important? Getting out of this hole or making sure your possessions come with you?”

“Ugh…” Having to choose and not being allowed to pick both was worse than being mauled by a beast.

“How about this? We can retrieve your bag after we come up to the surface, yeah?”

“We can do that?” He blinked.

“Sure! It doesn’t look that heavy. Just big.”

He wriggled out of the straps of the backpack. It still felt foreign to him to move around without it on his back, as if a part of him had been cut off and made him incomplete. That cold, yet freeing feeling was something he tried not to dwell on as he ran toward the figure.

I don’t understand you and I’m afraid to. But I’ll trust you, were his guiding words forward while the stranger had their arm reached down for him to grab onto.

When their hands joined together, he was thrust upward and tossed into the air. The salmon meal that he had caught from earlier churned in his stomach and almost spilled out before the stranger caught him by the waist.

“Ready?” The figure asked as the two stared into each other’s eyes. Her black eyes, his hazelnut brown. He felt no connection to this stranger, and really wanted to speak up and demand to be put down, but instead said:

“Go for it.”

He would regret those words while being tossed into the air and thrown over the pit. When he landed back on solid ground, his side slammed down and ached, while his right arm got scraped.

“Ow...why?” He winced and asked himself while tears filled his eyes. He struggled up and rubbed his arm where he had gotten scraped.

With a leap, the stranger emerged to the surface as well, landing on their feet. He looked up and faced the stranger, whose hands were on their hips.

“How did you do that? Slay that beast, I mean,” the young man asked.

The stranger now exposed to the light, appeared to be a young woman, both slim and muscular, and whose clothes reeked of the beast’s blood.

“Oh, my sword? I learned pretty quickly that a beast can be harmed using the parts from a beast. There was a beast corpse lying around when I faced one a long time ago, and I managed to extract one of its bones and used it to tear the beast apart. From there, it was a natural progression of taking bigger and bigger beast bones, discarding the previous ones, until I managed to kill a dragon. I forged this sword here from said dragon’s bones,” she explained in a manner more fitting of an office worker telling their coworker how their weekend went.

“You...what? There’s dragons? And you forged a sword out of their bones?”

She tilted her head.

“Oh...yeah. At least, I think it was a dragon. It resembled what I assume a dragon would look like were one to exist. I cooked some of it afterward, and its meat was quite tasty, but damn, that skin was tough. Reminded me of a fried chicken leg, but harder to chew through.”

“You...ate a beast?” He couldn’t believe what he heard. Every new piece of information she fed him came off as more absurd than the last.

“Well, of course. Gotta eat something. Roast beast isn’t so bad, really. You just have to remember to cook it all the way through.”

“Are you...are you sure you aren’t a beast, yourself?”

She laughed a hearty laugh.

“You’re funny.”

What’s wrong with this woman? She’s acting like this is all common sense when it’s not. He soon dismissed his disbelief. It was unbecoming of him, improper, even. How was he going to learn more about the world if he didn’t listen to others? She might have been crazy, sure, but her words could have still been true. They had to be, at least in regard to the sword. He already saw it in action.

“So...you can forge weapons out of beast bones?”

“Yeah! Ha ha!” She laughed and scratched the back of her head. He noticed that the sword she carried barely touched the ground, and its back extended well over her head. He imagined her resting on top of the sword as if it were a pillow. “I was a blacksmith before the whole calamity happened. I can still forge weapons so long as I have the right tools and conditions.”

“Wow. Okay. Let me write this down,” the young man resolved and pulled out his notebook and pen from the satchel which was still attached to him. All of the notebook’s pages looked to be intact. While he would certainly mourn the loss of his taser, he was still grateful that one of his companions survived.

“It seems one can harm a beast using parts from a beast. While this is tricky, it may be doable if a beast corpse can be found nearby,” he jotted down.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“Note taking. It’s important to gather as much information as I can. I try to make observations wherever possible.”

“Wow! We could use someone like you! You’re like the missing piece we need!”

“Huh?”

“Hey, what’s your name?”

He continued to write notes based on the things she had mentioned:

“Some beasts may be safely eaten if cooked properly (?)”

The question mark was a necessary addition, as more research would have to be done. Just the fact that this woman claimed to have eaten a fallen beast was intriguing, but it wasn’t enough to be noted as a fact.

“Hello? Are you lost in those notes of yours?”

“Oh. Sorry. I’m Camembert Latke,” he looked up and put his notebook away.

“Cool! How do you feel about being called Sweet Cream?”

“Uh…”

“Great! I’m Custard, by the way!”

The name sounded familiar. Camembert, or Cam for short (or perhaps now Sweet Cream) might have heard something about a ‘Custard’ in passing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t encountered another person before since the calamity occurred, just that such encounters were far from common. Maybe that was something else he would have to note down for future reference.

“Hey. Sweet Cream,” Custard’s excitement turned into a hush, but harsh whisper. It was almost as loud as her normal voice, and seemed to betray the very concept of ‘whispering.’

He looked straight at her, studied her face, the furrowed, thick eyebrows of her, and her thin lips no longer spread out in a bubbly smile and instead lay flat, in a dead serious manner.

“Don’t look behind you. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

His skin began to crawl.

Why is she telling me this? He wondered and one part of his mind tried to jerk his head to the side and see what the big deal was, if anything. However, the other part of his mind understood well enough the implications of her instructions.

“If you understand, don’t nod. If you don’t understand, don’t shake your head. Do you understand? Don’t even gulp.”

This isn’t fair. Am I supposed to just be a statue?

Sweet Cream felt a lump in his throat, whether manufactured as an internal illusion or a legitimate need to swallow saliva, he couldn’t tell. But the urge was overpowering and he almost took that gulp, despite all warnings. It was only his trust in Custard, this madwoman, this beast in human form, that he resisted.

Cold sweats began to form along his neck and whether it was tears from his eyes or salty sweat from his forehead, he knew something ran down his face. Then, an even worse feeling overcame him:

Hot breaths against the left side of his neck, and brushed against his ear. It tickled, and yet again, an overwhelming urge to shiver, to shake, to twitch. He really thought it would happen this time, that he would be unable to resist. After all, weren’t such jerking around sometimes an involuntary reaction from the body? What made him any different?

Warm, sticky saliva dripped onto his thick bearskin cape. Said saliva ran down the cape and onto his shirt. More than ever, the desire to move, to do anything, took over.

However, he kept his gaze fixed on Custard. He noticed that there was a large shadow just behind him, and he could only imagine what kind of shape the beast who decided to encroach upon him took.

With a slow motion, Custard reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a gray shard. It sparkled, but he couldn’t discern much of the object.

“It’s a piece of the dragon bone. Scrap from when I crafted this blade,” she explained, still whispering in that absurd manner that she was surprised it didn’t attract the beast’s attention.

Whatever she was about to do, he knew he would have to make a note of it later. That is, if he were to survive this encounter with whatever loomed behind him, of course. Then, she did it:

With a swift motion, she tossed the shard right past Sweet Cream’s shoulder.

“NOW! ROLL!” Sweet Cream was never much of an agile person. Sure, his stamina when it came to hiking was higher than most, but his flexibility was lacking.

Still, my trust in Custard has kept me alive so far.

He rolled, or rather, he made a clumsy dive toward the bushes in an awkward attempt at a roll. When he looked back, he saw a violet colored scaly beast with crimson red scales and green gills. Its body, shaped like a torpedo, had two webbed feet with long, pointed nails, and a large mouth with sharp, jagged teeth which hung open and bled out, presumably from the shard that Custard had tossed.

In the time that he moved out of the way, Custard spared no time in rushing toward the beast as she brought her towering blade down. The beast clamped its mouth onto the blade as it tried to block the massive hunk of bone from slashing the beast open. If the blade had any wear from the gnawing and grinding of the beast’s teeth, it didn’t show any signs. Not a single dent was made.

Between the struggle for control over the blade: the beast keeping it from moving and Custard, trying to push down as hard as she could, and even with her large, muscular arms, they shook under the weight of the pressure the beast exerted.

Just like her blade, if Custard was frustrated in any way, she didn’t show it. Rather, what she did show was that same toothy grin from before, complete with what looked like two slightly larger teeth in the back, both on her top and bottom half. Sweet Cream couldn’t tell if they were fangs, and his assertion that she was some beast in disguise, or if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

“Fine. You want my sword so bad?” She rasped before erupting in a triumphant shout, “then eat up!”

Rather than try to push down, she instead switched her approach to pull upward slightly, and Sweet Cream was astonished to find that this time, the blade moved against the beast’s mouth and cracked the jagged teeth of the beast. Then, she shoved the tip of her blade in, thrusting her whole self forward all the while. Once she felt her blade, wet with the beast’s insides, halfway in, she swung yet again upward until with a swift slash, the beast was cut open from the inside and exploded in a bloody climax.

“Ha,” she scoffed as she sheathed her blade, “just like gutting a fish.”

“I think gutting a fish is cleaner than that,” Sweet Cream said, making his presence known once more.

She glanced over, her grin fading into a light, but no less cheery smile.

“Gutting any beast is going to be messy. It’s all a part of the process.”

Custard walked off into the bushes and through the thickness of the woods, just off the trail, but before doing so, made motions with her hand for Sweet Cream to follow. Well, he sprung up and did just that.

“You’re like a beast magnet,” she said, recognizing Sweet Cream’s presence but refusing to turn around.

“Please don’t say that. It’s going to give me nightmares. Not that I don’t get them already.”

“Nightmares can be a good thing. They can be a great motivator.”

He didn’t understand, but didn’t press on that matter.

“So, about my backpack…”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll have Mousse grab it for you. You’ll like him. He’s a big strong guy.”

“Mousse?”

“Yeah! He’s one of the members of Sweets Escape! We’re a traveling troupe of mercenaries who hunt beasts and bake pastries! There’s me, obviously, but then there’s Pudding, Mousse, Yogurt, Frosting, Flan, and the seventh member, you! Sweet Cream!”

“Um. About that...”

“Yes?”

“I can’t wait to meet them!” He said, and the enthusiasm in his voice shocked him. He was so sure that he would tell Custard how he never agreed to join this group of theirs, but he couldn’t deny the prospects that came with joining such a group.

Surely, he thought, this will prove fruitful for research.

“I’m so glad you decided to join! I’ve been saying for some time now that what our group’s been lacking is someone with knowledge and lo and behold, who do I find but you?”

“Well, thanks. I hope my notes can be useful.”

“I’m sure they will! But remember, while knowledge is important, raw strength is still vital for survival. I’m gonna bulk you up!”

“Um. I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to know! Anything we don’t know, we’ll figure out along the way! You must be pretty strong already to lug around that big bag of yours.”

“I suppose.”

“Oh, and I ought to forge you a weapon. What do you think you’d be into?”

“Hmm…”

“Don’t worry, take your time! We can figure out the logistics as we go!”

She hummed about while pushing aside branches with thick leaves as she went. Some of them hit Sweet Cream and he winced. On certain leaves, he saw fuzzy caterpillars with orange and black stripes. On another, a thick, vine leaf, he saw a banded centipede with pincers on its end. Usually the sight of a centipede would be enough to send him into shock, but with the multiple encounters with beasts in such a short span of time, his irregular heartbeat did all the work for him.

At least soon, he told himself, my new life will begin.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo 2

“Why?”

Such a simple, one word question.

Past the city Null had been in was a long stretch of road, now mostly broken up and cracked. Along both sides of that road were lush, deep forests. Food would be scarce. Places to hide, places to rest, she may have no choice but to get more creative. More fights would be in store for her if she went ahead and took such a path. But upon waking up, she already knew that was where she would be headed.

“Still alive...still alive…” She muttered through a massive headache. Her mouth was dry, her stomach growled. She ached all over. Yet there were no bloodstains on her new uniform and she could still walk, however slow and feeble her movements were.

Behind her, a city in ruin and desolate. Faint flickering of flames still illuminated the area. Any vegetation that had managed to take shape had been burned away as well. Before leaving the city, she looked back and saw that smoky, orange glow which floated up to the sky and darkened the surrounding air.

“What we need is rain,” she remarked, “or a lot of water. Like the one in this pool,” she looked down at the pool which had become tainted with blood. She wanted to sigh, but her lungs ached and all she could let out was a rough cough.

Maybe the flames will reach the forest. If so, there won’t be any outrunning it. Oh well. There’s nothing I can do.

It wasn’t long since she left the city that it began to rain. What started as a drizzle turned into a heavy downpour and she tried to catch a glimpse of the flaming city doused out by the rain, but it had become so heavy that she had a hard time even seeing what was in front of her.

“Ugh...my uniform’s soaked,” she groaned. Even with her hood over her head, rain drenched her face, “me and my big mouth. This is my fault, isn’t it? I said we needed it, so we got it.”

Partway down the road, she slipped on a crack and fell on her butt. From all the aches she already had, getting up was a struggle. For a moment, she just sat there, wondering if the liquid on her face was rain or if they were her tears. Regardless, she laughed.

I’m still the same old me, even with all that went on yesterday, she thought.

Not long after, Null made it into the forest and was blanketed by trees. Several bouts of sneezes came just as fast as she had entered and she wiped her face with the damp sleeve of her uniform. She stuck her tongue out for a few seconds and let rain drop on it. The taste was a little bitter, not like she imagined water should taste, but she accepted it up until the moment where the image of a fly landing on her tongue entered her mind.

“Ack!” She spat on the ground, then moved along.

I haven’t seen much wildlife. Well, wildlife of the non-monstrous variety. Do deer still exist? Rabbits? Bears? Mice?

After much consideration, she decided that a bear may as well have been a beast for how difficult it would be to deal with one if she had to.

Now imagine a giant bear. Or a bear with pincers, like a beetle. Or a bear with acid dripping from its mouth, or the bear has large wings, so went the wild ideas that plagued her mind. She held onto her heart and felt it skip a beat a couple of times.

No food. Stomach growled. Sharp aches and pains persisted. There was nothing close enough to feast or snack on. Maybe once the rain subsided, but there was no way to tell how long the rain would persist for. Not much had happened that day, only a few hours of movement at most. Yet such facts didn’t matter as the soreness made any kind of movement stilted and agonizing. As far as Null was concerned, the day may as well have ended just as soon as it started.

Nearby was a small cave. Smooth were the stones that made up such a cavern and as soon as it came to view, all Null could see was darkness. It was small enough that at least in her mind, it could have been better described as a burrow. Images of bears residing in such a place came to mind.

Do bears rest in caves or burrows? What do you even call it when it’s so small? A tunnel?

As she climbed up into the opening (mouth?) of the cave, she wondered what else could be lurking in there. The thought almost made her fall. At least from the height she was at, she might have been just fine landing on her feet. Besides, how far up was she? It couldn’t have been so devastating that…

Scenes from the day prior when she climbed up the side of that office building. The events of that day were not lost on her.

It took a few times to get into the cave, as her hands slipped against the wet surface and she stood back on the ground. After the third attempt of climbing, she managed to push herself up and landed at the cave’s entrance. There, she sat back against the stony cavern wall and laid both arms at her sides. With her head lifted up and her feeble state, she closed her eyes and mumbled.

“Hey. Uh. You don’t mind if you don’t eat every day, do you?” She asked with her weary voice to the occupant on her arm. There was no response back from the beast, and she took a peek under her sleeve and saw it hardened. After zipping it back up, she groaned, “figures. You might even be asleep right now. I don’t know. Do you guys sleep? I’m guessing a beast’s anatomy is different from a human’s. Double given you’re, like, your own species or something. I don’t know. Feel free to shut me up any time. Like, just form a blade and slice my throat.”

She coughed and her eyes stung.

“Sorry. That was. Ignore that,” she continued, choked up, “so if you don’t have to feed every day, that would be great. As for me, all I need is for someone to dump some food and a bucket of water down my mouth while I’m sleeping and run off before I wake up.”

Actually, no. That would be creepy. Not to mention, what other things would they try to do with me while I’m asleep? Null shuddered at the thought and her eyes shot open.

Null turned and looked toward the dark end of the cave. Total blackness should have been the only thing to be seen. Instead, she spotted the faint sight of one large eye. Unblinking and with its pupils bouncing around. As soon as the beast was spotted, Null leaped up, disregarded the pain she was in, and hit her head against the ceiling. Both hands on her head, she lowered her stance and shuddered. That was about when a rattling, hissing sound was made from the beast.

This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? I knew it was and I still went in anyway. Why?

“Hey!” She panicked and yelled at her right arm. “Get up! Do your sword thing!” No movement could be felt despite her pleas and panic rose further within her as the beast in the shadows took a step forward to display its large mouth with its jagged rows of teeth just underneath its single, large eye.

“Are you full? Is that it? Can’t you do something? I can’t take on something like that!” She continued to shout into her arm, and in desperation, as grotesque as seeing her arm itself could be, she unzipped the zipper, then held her arm forward while pointing to the approaching beast. “Stay back. I’ve got a...just, stay back. Please. I’m exhausted. Do you know what kind of day I had yesterday?”

There was no humor in her words, only an aching desperation as she gulped and felt a lump in her throat.

Acidic drool dripped from the beast and it stepped forward with many thin tentacles underneath serving to move it forward. Its abdomen became clearer, three spherical segments, like a bug. The segments had pastel pink and indigo coloration. On top were two translucent wings in the shape of teardrops. Each side of the beast also had many writhing tentacles.

There shouldn’t be anything on its side. At most, it should have a few legs at the bottom, and that’s being generous, Null observed and the hairs on her skin stood on end.

That large bug leaped into the air and opened its mouth wide to try to swallow up whatever pieces of Null it could get in its mouth. Null squinted her eyes shut tight and looked away. Tentacles wrapped around both of her arms and held them out.  In that same instance, the slime formed into the blade over Null’s arm and broke free of the tentacles’ grasp and swung forth just as the beast’s large mouth got close to her wrists. The force of the blade tore through the side of the beast’s mouth and caused them to hiss and recoil. Small droplets of blood flew out, which made Null recoil upon opening her eyes.

“Uhh...ew...ew…” She cowered at the sight of cut tentacles from one end of the beast hitting the wall close to her and the beast itself jumped back to form a crouching position. Blood dripped down from the cut on the side of the beast’s mouth and the blade leaned forward as if the sight or scent had an irresistible allure to it.

It pulled Null forward and she had to grasp onto her right arm to hold herself back.

“Hey!” She tried to steer herself back but the pull the slime had on her was too tight. She started to run forward, all the while cringing and shaking her head in several directions.

Fine! If I have to go through with this, at least let me decide the direction! She urged, and pulled her right arm upward slightly. She felt tentacles coil around on her arms with its smooth yet rough texture, yet she had no choice but to ignore it while the blade on her arm drove its way into the giant beast’s eye, then slashed down right in the middle of the beast’s mouth. The tentacles let go and she was so sure the beast was either dead or willing to retreat, but her arm wasn’t finished as it drove itself further in and she was forced to be dragged close to the disgusting creature.

Her fists felt wet and sticky, as did her clothes and she felt all these lumpy and squishy parts bump into her arms. Helpless, she stood on the outside of the creature, looked away, and her stomach growled as she threw up then and there.

Blood or saliva, she felt some thick, sticky liquid absorb its way onto her arm and the beast seemed to shrink the more her arms were inside until at last, the blade attached to her right arm swung back up and cut out the top of the creature.

With her arms free and pulled out of the remains of the beast, she felt about ready to vomit again at the murky substance which stained her uniform.

I just hope it isn’t stained for good. Maybe a good wash or something should help.

That was the most optimistic thought she could muster as she fell back and sat against the wall. Soon the blade dissolved and the slime retreated back into her sleeve where it hardened. While it wasn’t ideal, all her energy had once again been depleted and all she could do was close her eyes and rest.

Null woke up on the concrete with a great ache and a dry mouth. It was a year ago, the day after  Null met up with a friend at the shopping mall. Through the brief duration of the calamity, Null had passed out and in the aftermath, slept through much of the destruction. So when her eyes opened just a crack and her limbs shook while trying to stand, the scene had yet to set in. Not only that, but upon standing and trying to lean against the building she had been beside, she fell back down, confused, and began to cough.

There was a thick cloud of smoke which permeated throughout the area. Smashed up cars, buildings reduced to rubble, corpses littered on the streets and on the sidewalks, all of it was on full display and she let out a muffled squeak, then covered up her mouth with both hands just as fast.

This can’t be real. I must be dreaming, she thought as she tried shutting her eyes tight, only to reopen them and have the same scene laid bare in front of her, how? What?

Still in shock, Null shivered. When the dead mouse on the ground lying beside her feet came into view, Null jumped in place and backed up.

“No...no…” both her voice and the rest of her trembled.

That thing was alive...I was…

Null tried to piece together what her last memories contained but the words wouldn’t hold as her very thoughts seemed to tremble.

Did a bomb hit this place? Were we nuked? Is that it? Or was this…

She remembered one of her last thoughts before passing out. Something about how her world was ending.

“Did...did I cause this somehow?” She mouthed out the words, and although she knew it was preposterous, for the time being, any explanation seemed plausible.

But I didn’t want this. I never wanted anything to end. It just always seems to end on its own and it’s my fault even though I never meant for it to be. I just can’t help myself. These thoughts come no matter how many times I try to stop it or talk my way out of it. It’s useless, I’m useless, I’m –

A low, rumbling growl emitted. Could it have been her stomach, begging for some form of sustenance? Or could it have been some outside force? Either was possible, especially with Null’s imagination on overdrive. But hunger was most likely, given how she hadn’t eaten all day.

Null sunk low back to the ground and curled up, head in knees, and wept. As she did so, the growling continued.

It seemed to grow louder with each agonizing second and drew closer and closer until she grimaced and jumped up. As soon as she did so, she saw nothing nearby.

“I...I gotta get home. I’m imagining all this, surely. Maybe if I go to bed, all this will go away,” Null tried to reason with herself even though there was little confidence in her voice.

With a brisk pace, Null left the alleyway and headed in the direction back home. The thick smoke that permeated made her cough, but outside of her own movements, she couldn’t hear a sound. It wasn’t a total silence, but unheard of, and too unnerving for someone not used to it. Aside from the kicking of rocks, her heavy beating heart and heavy breaths, as well as the occasional growling from her stomach (at least, Null was pretty sure it was her stomach at that point) there was nothing else.

At one point, she thought to cup her hands over her mouth and call out, see if anyone would answer, but decided against it.

What if I alert the attention of someone bad? Or a demon shows up? No. I need to remind myself that demons and monsters don’t exist. But bad people do and bad people may have done this.

“Maybe there weren’t meant to be survivors. Maybe it would be better for me to play dead,” she muttered.

Despite the thickness of the smoke, she knew she was headed in the right direction and for once was thankful for living in a straightforward path from the mall. Likewise, the buildings closer to the apartment complex she lived in were generally smaller than the buildings closer to the mall. Though most were destroyed, some still stood. Null imagined that even if the mall had been leveled to the ground, the destruction would be great enough that she could identify it as once being a shopping mall.

The place that once stood as an apartment complex was, indeed, leveled. Stairs had collapsed in the middle of rubble. Debris scattered about as well as pieces of the various apartments. She thought she could see arms and legs sticking out from some of the debris, but she wasn’t even sure and there was so much piled up anyway that it didn’t really matter: the message was the same.

“Ah,” she couldn’t spot her parents, let alone the remains of the apartment she once resided in. There were wooden boards, beds, appliances, furniture, but it was too hard to separate what was hers from all the other broken pieces. It never belonged to her to begin with, anyway. At least not the parts that mattered. Sure, there were stuffed animals, her laptop, articles of clothing, and various materials of hobbies that never lasted long. But those things didn’t matter, nor could she even find them now.

Devastated, unable to find any trace of her old life, Null shook in place. Her lips quivered and she tried to speak but they were all incomprehensible syllables. At last, Null came up with a few short words in the form of a rhetorical question:

“I have to go, don’t I?”

She asked that question with a smile, though there was no sense of joy or humor. To say that the loss of her parents or the bedroom she once resided in brought a void in her would have been a lie as her whole life had been a void. Now, there was a sense of liberation, one which she wished not to acknowledge.

Around the corner and stepping over pieces of debris, Null walked on, unsure where to head toward next.

I guess now I can be Null and I don’t have to be Nolan anymore. For whatever that’s worth. Most of my class in high school as well as community college knew me as Null. It was mostly my parents who didn’t. Considering who I’ve been...I think it’s better if I’m forgotten. But at the same time, if I never meet another person, what use is there for a name?

She contemplated such things while staring down at the ground, aimless. With the smoke still permeating through the air and her attention focused away from the road ahead, it was apparent that at some point, she would end up bumping into something. Whether it be a car, or a pole, or a wall, or tripping upon something on the road, it was sure to happen.

So it went that she walked right into what felt like a soft, yet sturdy wall. Like fabric had been put over a pillar. Null backed away a couple of steps and held onto her nose, which had bonked right into the obstacle. When she glanced up, Null realized that she had collided with the chest of a tall figure, one who wore a black blouse and black slacks and had short, blue hair as well as glasses.

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay!” Cried the shocked voice of the supposed distinguished woman.

“Ow...my nose...I think it’s bleeding,” Null patted under her nose, but felt nothing, “never mind. It’s not.”

“I’m terribly sorry! I am! I really am!” The woman continued, “I was just out looking for survivors and wasn’t watching where I was going, I swear!”

Then, Null watched as the woman in front of her crossed her arms and began to shiver.

“Oh great...there it is,” she shook her head and moaned, “it just had to start now of all times.”

What’s going on? Is this woman trying to hold herself back from yelling at me? Or is she going to try to kill me? Were there not supposed to be survivors? Null watched in confusion and couldn’t help but worry about her fate.

“I don’t want any trouble. But you found me,” Null shifted her eyes and said, “so if you’re going to kill me, do it quick.”

“Huh? Kill you? But I...I’d never hurt anyone,” the strange woman continued to shiver, “I couldn’t imagine doing something like that! I swear!”

“Then why were you looking for survivors?” The dread continued to seep in and Null didn’t even want to ask.

“Yes...why...that is the question,” replied the strange woman, “I just…I’m just...looking for other survivors...we haven’t been able to find any.”

“We?” Null asked, “as in multiple?”

“Um. It’s just. Me. And two other students.”

“Students?”

“Here! Come with me!” She urged and Null backed away again.

I shouldn’t! It’s probably a trap! But if I don’t, something worse could happen to me!

“Okay. I’ll go,” Null agreed and thought, but only because I may not have a choice.

As the two walked, Null’s fears failed to allay and despite her best efforts to hide her dread, she couldn’t help herself but ask:

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the university. Or what’s left of it. There’s still some rooms intact. We’ll take shelter there. And we have food if you’re hungry.”

“University? But I’m not a student.”

“I don’t think that matters anymore,” the strange woman shivered in place as she took staggered steps, “I suppose I’m not a professor anymore, either.”

“Professor?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I’m, or was, Professor Delune. But since that’s a thing of the past...you can call me Clair.”

“I’m...I see,” Null replied, then thought, this is my chance to start anew. Even if none of us live much longer, I can at least leave with a good impression, “I’m Panache.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Panache,” Clair said to her with a slight smile.

Good, she believes me, Null thought, and wished to make a sigh of relief, but was afraid that if she did so, the impression she left on the former professor would be tarnished.

“What’s going on, anyway? Why did this happen?” She demanded.

“That’s what I want to know as well,” Clair hung her head low and sounded mournful. Null didn’t utter a single word after that until they reached the university. It was bad enough that she spoke up at all. Any more and it might have revealed too much about her. In her mind, Null was still Null. But toward this stranger, Clair Delune, Null would rather be anyone else but Null.

When the two stepped over the broken down door that led into one of the campus buildings and wandered through one of the darkened hallways, they passed through many classrooms and lecture halls.

“We’re not going in one of these?” Null asked.

“It’s not where we’re taking shelter in. Where we’re in is more secure, albeit smaller,” Clair explained.

“But why would we take shelter somewhere smaller?”

“Maybe I’m not the right person to say this, but last night Pierrot and Lu Bin said they heard strange noises and shuffling as well as what sounded like roars,” Clair told Null while shivering, “it could be nothing. But then again, it could be something.”

That time, it was Null’s turn to shiver.

“But...are those the only two options?”

“I don’t understand, dear. What other options are there besides nothing and something?”

Null didn’t know how to answer that and she wished she hadn’t asked.

“Well...if it’s nothing, then it can be ignored, right? Sometimes sounds are just sounds, right? If something is nothing, then there’s nothing to worry about, right? Because nobody should worry about nothing,” Null sounded like she was trying to reassure the former professor, but just the idea of strange sounds in the night made her mind run wild.

“Right. Thank you. You’re truly brave, Panache.”

“No! I’m not brave at all! I’m a total coward!”

“So modest, too. You’re so adorable.”

Those words stung, but Null was too afraid to object.

“What did you mean by ‘last night’, anyway?” Null had thought that she woke up to it only being a couple hours later at most, but the truth…

“The calamity happened yesterday. We aren’t sure what it was, but one moment I was teaching a class, the next second, the ceiling fell and many of my students were dead. There were only two that survived, besides myself.”

So this is real? Really real? But it can’t be, right? It shouldn’t be.

“I see. I must have passed out for a whole day…” Null muttered. Clair managed to pick up on her words.

“I’d say that’s a good thing. Perhaps you missed the worst of it.”

Or maybe the worst of it is just beginning.

“To think that I was awake when it happened. Barely lasted a second, but it was like a beam of light and then...bam,” Clair shivered and rubbed her hands against her upper arms.

How terrifying. One moment, everyone did as they always did. Next, most of them wound up dead without so much as any last words, Null shuddered. That includes my parents, the real Panache, they’re all gone.

“Haa...haa…” Null let out heavy breaths.

“Are you okay, dear?”

“It’s just...everyone...but me…” she tried to force out the words.

“I’m still here, dear. There’s still hope.”

You don’t understand. It’s okay for you to still be here. You’re a normal person. I was never fit to live to begin with. So why is it that I continue to live against my will?

Of course, Null wasn’t about to say such things aloud. However, she did have one more question:

“Why do you shiver so much?”

“Ah,” Clair turned her head and smiled, “it’s because when I get scared or nervous, I start to feel like I’m freezing. It just so happens that I’m almost always scared or nervous about something.”

Me too. Could this person be…? No. She still managed to get through school and hold a job. Something I never could. No matter how scared or nervous she says she is, I could never hope to be as capable as she is, or even once was.

They arrived at the end of the hall where a heavy door lay. It stood, without any hint of damage to it. Clair, despite her shivering, managed to open the door with an even, steady motion. It made Null wonder if the shivering was just an act, or a quirk, but then again, there was another possibility that cropped up…

Maybe she’s got this nervousness but is still able to handle it. Of course. Because most normal people are able to handle life’s hardships. It’s just me that’s always been too weak.

Inside the room was a near-empty square space. Large enough to fit a few people, but not that big. Only about a quarter of the size of what Null imagined an average classroom to look like. She also imagined that if not for the small window way up high toward the ceiling (too high to reach and too small to crawl through if need be) the room would have been in total darkness. Instead, the room had a deep, navy blue hue, and although there was a darker tint compared to the other rooms she spied, she could still see the professor in front of her.

Clair strolled over to the end of the room and sat against the back wall. It was then that Null noticed a thin blanket on the floor as well as a couple of baskets and plastic containers to Null’s right.

“Come! Sit beside me!” Clair invited Null over as she gave the floor several hard pats. It made sharp, smacking sounds, and Null couldn’t help but picture Clair slapping her if Null refused. Once Null sat over beside Clair, her stomach growled.

“Oh? Are you hungry, Panache?” Clair asked and reached into one of the baskets and pulled out a sandwich. “I know it’s not much, but you should take it.”

“I couldn’t. It’s not mine,” Null tried to refuse.

“I insist. We’re in this together,” and Clair held the sandwich out closer to Null. Afraid of the consequences of not taking it, Null swiped the sandwich, then took little nibbles on it. As it turned out, it was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Not her favorite, but the idea of complaining was out of the question.

“Good girl,” Clair commented and smiled. Those two words unnerved Null, as she never heard such a thing before, at least not to her knowledge. When could she have ever been told that she was good in any capacity?

“Um...where are the other two?” Null asked, hoping Clair wouldn’t continue such untrue comments.

“They’re probably nearby somewhere. My guess is they’re gathering supplies and looking for more food. It’s hard to say how long we’ll be able to last here.”

Null gulped. Not what she wanted to hear, but it was too late to take back her question.

After a few more bites, Null handed the sandwich back to Clair.

“I can’t eat any more,” she stated with a dull expression, “please take it back.”

“Are you sure? Aren’t you still hungry? You need to eat, you know. It’s very important.”

“I can’t. It’s not right.”

“Yes it is.”

“No. I mean...being here isn’t. It shouldn’t be today, it should be yesterday. I should be at home,” Null let loose with her mouth and the words didn’t stop even as she raised her knees and lowered her head into them. This time, it was her turn to shiver, “this is all wrong.”

“I know, but there’s nothing that can be done.”

“It shouldn’t be this way. I have a boyfriend named Lamp...Ray...Lamprey, and he loves me very much. And we live together,” she spun her tale without even thinking of the details, “we have three dogs: Zero, Zilch, and Nada, and they always wanna snuggle with me. I’ve got a job and it may be hard sometimes but I do really well and everyone in the office says how much they appreciate my work. I make six figures, seven on good days. My parents are both proud of me and we both talk often and I know they love me.”

“Sounds like you had the ideal life,” Clair noted.

“Ideal? No. It’s just a normal life. That’s how most people live. I have friends, too. I do. And they love me, and we hang out often and I know how much they care about me.”

Null began to break down in tears and felt sick to her stomach, even after taking those bites of food, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“I was supposed to meet up with one of my friends at the mall. We haven’t been hanging out often, but I know how important this is for her. For us. Her name’s Null. She might still be waiting for me, and if she is, to think that I just left her there…” She shook her head, “or maybe she’s dead. She’s dead and we never got to hang out. She never got to know how much I appreciate her.”

“I’m sure Null will be alright,” Clair tried to reassure her, though Clair wasn’t so sure, herself.

“NO!” Null shouted through tears. “NULL IS NEVER ALRIGHT!”

She had to stop herself, and she clutched the sides of her head. Her whole body shook and for a moment, she thought she could feel the same cold feeling that Clair claimed to feel. It was like there was a total wave over her and nothing would stay still. Her head ached. Her thoughts ached.

“It seems like you care about Null quite a lot,” Clair once again tried to reassure her. Those words shocked the redhead beside Clair.

How could I care about Null when I am Null? She asked herself, but no answer came.

“No. I don’t,” Null shook her head, still buried in her lap, “I mean, I should. I try. I want to care about her. We’ve been friends for a while. It’s just so hard because she’s so afraid of everything and she’s always convinced that all her friends will leave her. To her credit, most of her friends have left her. I didn’t want to be one of those friends, and I always told her that I wouldn’t, but it’s just so damn hard when no matter how many times I tell her I care, she just doesn’t listen! I get that things are hard for her, and I feel for her, but she never even makes an effort to change!”

Clair saw how much shock the girl was in and Clair reached a hand toward. She was so close to wrapping her arms around Null, pressing against her back and whispering sweet assurances in her ear. But she refused to do something so brazen so soon.

“To be honest, I kind of relate to your friend,” Clair said instead with a softened voice as the rest of her remained still. There was a certain warmth in admitting such a thing, “I struggle with social situations. Speaking in front of a crowd is a nightmare for me. Should it be a contradiction, then, that I chose this profession? To be honest, I’m not sure if I like it. I often wonder if I even know the material that I’m teaching, and if I’m teaching it well enough. The worst thing would be to fail a student, I think, because I want every student to succeed and if someone doesn’t, then aren’t I a bad teacher? There are times I’ve thought that one day, my students will see me for how incompetent I really am. I’ve just been lucky to make it as far as I have, but even when it feels like I’ve come so far, there’s that little itch that tells me I’m overdue for a breakdown, then it will all be over.”

Null opened her eyes wide and turned to the former professor.

“No one should be able to relate to Null,” she told Clair, “it wouldn’t make sense to do so. Everyone has their struggles, but we all have responsibilities and have to deal with them anyway. She doesn’t even try.  Really, I’m surprised she’s lived as long as she has.”

“But it’s great, isn’t it? That she’s lived so long,” Clair suggested, “living by itself is hard enough. Then you factor in all these expectations and it can get overwhelming.”

“Well, none of that matters now,” Null scoffed and wiped away the tears with the sleeve of her hoodie, “she’s probably dead at the mall now anyway. Just like you being a professor no longer matters,” Null scoffed, “this is all a joke. I’m still waiting to wake up.”

Before Clair Delune could continue to comfort Null, a knock came upon the door and someone entered. A slender young woman with curly, jet black hair. Its curls reminded Null of her own hair, but Null’s hair wasn’t so much curly as it was unmaintained and messy. That girl’s hair looked like how curly hair should have looked.

“Hey Pierrot,” Clair greeted, “where’s Lu Bin?”

“She’s patrolling on campus, looking for supplies and any other food to last us. Still not getting cell service?” Pierrot answered with a question of her own. Null turned to her right to see Clair pull out a phone.

“No. Seems like we aren’t getting any electricity at all.”

Pierrot is a girl. Pierrot said ‘she’ about Lu Bin. So are we all girls here? Null thought to herself. As far as she was concerned, the conversation between Clair and Pierrot meant nothing to her. There was no need to pay attention. And yet –

“Hey. You,” Pierrot turned her attention away from Clair. “You look familiar.”

Null looked up and tilted her head, trying to figure out if she had seen Pierrot before.

“This is Panache,” Clair explained, “I found her as I was wandering outside. She misses her friend.”

Pierrot squinted. Something told Null that Pierrot didn’t buy that explanation.

“Professor, I know you want to help out as much as you can, but you know how dangerous it is out there. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Pierrot first told Clair. It sounded more like worry than scolding. Null thought she was off the hook until Pierrot looked away from Clair once more.

“I’m pretty sure I knew you before,” Pierrot let her voice trail off and suspicion dripped from her tongue.

“No you didn’t!” Null argued.

“Mm...aren’t you that girl in middle school and high school who would avoid everything? I remember having a class with you in high school and you’d faint every time we were about to have a test. And every time we were supposed to run laps in PE, you’d always pretend to get sick. What was your name again?”

“That never happened! And Clair already told you!”

She knows. She knows. She knows, Null’s thoughts raced, even as she was sure it was already too late.

“Hey. You get Professor Delune’s name out of your mouth! You’re lucky to even be in her presence!”

“I didn’t even want to be here…” Null looked away.

“Ah. That’s right. Your name was Null. Null Void. Perfect for someone who avoided everything.”

Null shut her eyes and tried to cover her face.

“Seriously, your parents should have had you medicated. Why didn’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Null replied, though she really wanted to answer, because they thought I should have been strong enough without it.

“Whatever,” Pierrot scoffed, “just don’t cause any trouble for the professor.”

“She’s no trouble,” Clair said to Pierrot, “besides, she’s as much of a survivor as we are. We need to look out for each other.”

“Right. Sorry. I guess,” Pierrot looked down at the floor. “I’m going to patrol the area. I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Just yell if you need me and I’ll come running back.”

“Thank you, Pierrot. You’re a good girl,” Clair smiled and Pierrot’s face turned bright red.

“O-Of course! I’m always ready to be a good girl for you, Professor!” Pierrot stammered, then exited the door, leaving Null and Clair alone once again.

Null pressed her hands into her face and started to sob.

It was all going so well. Why did anyone have to know me? Why?

Null felt a hand reach behind her and it started to rub her back. As soft as the touch may have been, it also felt like centipedes running across her and she wanted to do anything to get it off of her, but she was too paralyzed to make a move.

“Don’t worry about Pierrot,” Clair soothed, “she means well. She’s just very protective of me. I still remember when she said I was her favorite professor. I didn’t understand it then, and I don’t understand it now. But I’m glad that someone could see something good about me.”

Get your hand off of me, Null wished to say. No matter how much it was meant to be comforting, it made her feel powerless. Not to mention the fact that she was too scared to even speak up about it.

“You know the truth about me now,” Null said instead.

“I thought Null was wonderful when you told me about her, and I think Null is wonderful now,” Clair said in her soft voice. For a moment, Null could ignore the hand on her back and was just focused on the words. They made no sense. They…

“There’s nothing wonderful about me,” she choked out the words. “Maybe it’s a wonder why I’m still alive, but that’s about it.”

“Yes. It’s wonderful that you’re alive,” she gave Null a couple pats on the shoulder, then let go and sat back up.

That’s not what I mean.

“I lied to you. Nothing that I said about me has been true.”

“That’s not true, either,” Clair shook her head and smiled, “you told me all about Null.”

“Nothing good.”

“I don’t believe you. I’m sure there’s something good about you,” Clair wrapped her arms around Null and rubbed her hand against Null’s cheek, “after all, you’re a good girl.”

Why don’t I feel comforted by this? Surely, Clair is attractive. Shouldn’t I be grateful? Null wondered and there wasn’t so much of a soft touch, rather, it felt like several worms crawling across her skin. I should tell her to stop. She might if I tell her. But isn’t she terrified, herself? Maybe I should just let her.

“Do you act this way with all of your students?” Null still asked, the closest she could get to showing disapproval.

“You’re not one of my students,” Clair pressed her chest against Null, “and besides, I’m no longer a Professor.”

“Ah. True,” Null groaned while she was pulled in tighter.

Somewhere outside, a deep, gurgling growl echoed through the halls and reached its way into the room.

“Hold me, Null, I’m scared,” Clair begged and began to shiver. Null, who heard the growl as well, simply thought, that wasn’t my stomach. I’m sure of it.

“I’m scared too!” Null finally managed to protest, though she soon covered her mouth and regretted speaking at all, just in case whatever made that noise heard her.

“Then I’ll hold you as well!”

That’s not what I mean, either.

There Null and Clair sat, holding each other, though Null would have rather done just about anything else.

It’s getting darker. I think it will be night soon. I don’t think I can escape through the window. It’s too high up and I’m not small enough. The one time where I wish I was smaller…

Soon the growling died down. It was pitch black. Null felt Clair’s heavy breaths upon her and Clair’s frame heave up and down.

“Hey,” Null whispered to Clair, “why haven’t Pierrot or Lu Bin come here?”

No answer came, and that silence disturbed her further. That Clair had fallen asleep in such a short amount of time, and with Null wrapped in her arms, no less. All Null could hear were the breaths from the one holding her.

I need to get out of here. I bet Pierrot would rather be the one being held, anyway.

Null slipped out from Clair’s grasp and gently let the professor lie on the cold floor. She couldn’t see a thing, but she figured she could navigate her way around. After all, it was a straight line from the back to the door. With that in mind, Null tiptoed through and crept out of the room.

Outside of the room, it was just as dark with little in the way of sight. There was the glow from the night sky illuminating the halls from the windows somewhat. It allowed Null to see the outline of the walls and corridors around her, even if the range of vision was limited. Past a few paces was a thick darkness and she would only be able to see more by moving forward.

Anything could be lurking on the way ahead. Maybe whatever it is we’ve been hearing killed Pierrot and Lu Bin. I never met Lu Bin in particular. What if I walk forward and I find her corpse?

In front of Null came a bright, circular light. Null tried to cover her eyes, and at the same time, to her right, came a high-pitched shriek which echoed through the halls.

I forgot about the hallway to my right, she realized, maybe too late, as she ducked down and held tight to both ears. Muffled as they were, the screams continued.

Footsteps stamped forward and Null squinted to see the light growing larger and brighter.

“What are you doing outside of the room? You should be with the professor!” Barked the familiar voice of Pierrot. Null looked up, panic in her eyes, and was close to tears. “Ugh. Never mind that! That was Lu Bin! I need to make sure she’s okay! Get back in the room where it’s safe!”

“B-But…!” Null tried to protest, but she didn’t even know what she would say.

“Now!”

Startled, Null ran back into the room and shut the door tight. Back against the door, Null wondered what was going on.

“Did I just leave Pierrot to die? Against what? What’s going on? She should be here. Wouldn’t she like to be?” She asked aloud, and then concluded, but I would be too scared to run to Lu Bin. That’s enough of a reason to stay behind.

“Why did you leave? Why was there screaming?” Professor Delune’s groggy voice asked nearby.

“O-Oh. You woke up,” Null said, hesitant, and shook as she took her place back beside the professor. “I wanted to get some fresh air. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Was I out long?”

“No. And...I would have come back.”

“I’m scared, Null,” Clair confided as she wrapped her arms around Null again and leaned her head on Null’s shoulder. It was no more comfortable than before, but Null accepted it just as much as she accepted that she was, indeed, not in a dream. “Why is this happening? Is this a zombie apocalypse? I never prepared for this sort of thing.”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think any of us prepared for this.”

“What about those people who have bunkers or some sort of shelter with supplies?”

“What, like us?” Null shocked herself with her words and it stung her eyes, “maybe they’ve already died.”

Clair gasped.

“I...I mean, that’s only a maybe. I don’t mean to scare you,” Null walked it back, even though she was just as frightened by the possibility.

Clacking of footsteps pounded against the floor outside the room, followed by a low, guttural roar just behind. Null heard the turning of the door’s handle, followed by a rush as the door opened wide and two figures emerged. Pierrot had one arm wrapped around a shorter figure who also had black hair, albeit shorter. The shorter girl was hunched over, short on breath. Just as fast as the two entered, Pierrot slammed the door shut and the two girls sat beside the door.

Pierrot sat closer to the door while the other girl, presumably Lu Bin, sat further away. Her face looked like it had turned blue and she couldn’t stop shaking, paralyzed in fear. Her lip quivered, but no sound came out.

“Pierrot? Lu Bin? What happened?” Professor Delune asked the two.

“I...I don’t know how to explain,” Pierrot’s eyes shifted side to side, “I’m pretty sure she was trying to find food in the kitchen. That’s where I found her.”

“What did you see?” Null asked as she tried to form an image in her mind of what made those sounds, but failed to conjure anything.

Just as Null asked, the floor shook as heavy sloshing sounds could be heard outside. Next came that same guttural roar which tickled her ears. Lu Bin recoiled and leaned forward, hands clutching her head, and tried to hide her face away. Pierrot rubbed Lu Bin’s back and had a concerned look on her face.

Frantic, Null looked all around and tried to hold tight to the floor, which Clair must have sensed Null’s distress as she put her hand over Null’s own. The thought occurred to pull her hand away, but just like Lu Bin, Null was in too much shock to do anything.

Pierrot put an index finger over her lips and made a shushing sound to Null. Outside, pounding on the walls near the room and sounds of glass shattering. Lu Bin sobbed and Pierrot held Lu Bin into her chest and rubbed the back of her head.

The sloshing sound shook the floors with each heavy step, but soon the shaking grew more faint, as did the sound. The roars faded and there were faint growls, but those too ceased after a few tense minutes. Although the sounds outside were gone, Null’s heart continued to pound away.

Even so, Pierrot let out a sigh of relief.

“What did you two see?” Null asked again, even though she was pretty sure that she shouldn’t have.

“There was this...no. I don’t know how to describe it. You heard it, didn’t you?” Pierrot didn’t sound so tough anymore. Her voice was still rough, but it was more concern than anger. Maybe Null was wrong, maybe it was concern, too, when Pierrot told Null to go back inside.

Maybe I’ll never understand how people act.

“It was feasting. On someone’s corpse. It almost got me, too,” Lu Bin opened her mouth through sobs and spoke with a syrupy sweet, but ultimately mournful, voice.

“It was...what?” Null mouthed out.

“It’s okay. We should all be safe in here. These things seem to only come out at night so far. We’ll find a different spot to hide and hopefully find more supplies in the morning,” Pierrot explained. It really seemed like she knew what she was doing. More so than Null could attest to. Null still didn’t understand what was going on, but she knew that she would have to stay put and wait out the night if she had any chance at survival. At least, that’s what she hoped for.

Also on the second night since the calamity, a few cities over and in the woods, resided Minnow Pond, who had her own problem to deal with: rebuilding her home.

She had just gotten off work and met with her siblings after school when the calamity happened. They fell to the ground, and while Minnow managed to hold both of them tight, none of them were without bruises or scrapes.

Still, when the three got up and saw the destruction, Minnow had no words: people dead on the streets, impaled by debris of buildings, cars smashed with people dead in their cards, and a great deal of smoke.

She covered Lily and Gill’s eyes and looked all around.

“What are you doing?” Gill growled and tried to pry Minnow’s arm away.

“There’s something kids shouldn’t see,” Minnow tried to tell them. Those words were useless and she knew it as soon as they were uttered; words like those only made children more interested.

Lily pulled Minnow’s hand away, something which surprised Minnow. Maybe it was due to the fact that she focused more on hiding the truth from Gill that she ignored her little sister.

“Hey!” Minnow cried out, but it was too late as Lily turned around. Once she got a good view of the road, she screamed.

Minnow rushed down to the ground and covered Lily’s mouth. Then Gill turned around and echoed the same sentiment as his sister.

Damn it! Why can’t I protect both of them like I need to?

“Why are there dead bodies on the ground?” Lily asked.

“I don’t know, but we need to hurry back home!” Minnow urged.

They ran home and stayed close to their older sister. Both whimpered, even Gill who often liked to declare how tough he was (such statements as, “I got in a fight with Billy at school and won!” Or, “I’m learning to do parkour!”). As they scurried off home, huddled together, Minnow passed by the remains of the daycare where she had worked at only moments before.

On instinct, she tried to steer herself toward the building, and check for survivors, but she didn’t get far before she saw legs poking out from the rubble. But they didn’t move. In fact, those legs were severed from the rest of whoever they must have once belonged to. She saw no movement in the rubble and on that note, she had no choice but to conclude that there were no survivors.

Holly...Raul… The names of her two coworkers, the last two people who were even close to her age (albeit, they were both younger than her by a couple years. Still, to think that they were both gone. Besides the manager who hired her, Mayra, they may very well have been the only other adults in her life) drifted in her mind. Not only that, but the names of the many children at the daycare who she took care of. To think that they were probably dead. Even if they weren’t in the rubble, they may have been in the car with their parents. Any one of those smashed up cars could have contained the kids that she had worked with.

She felt tears begin to well up, but she wiped away her eyes before they could form and instead she formed a scowl.

We have to make our way home. That’s more important.

Once they reached home, on the outskirts of the city and in the neighboring woods, they witnessed their home missing its roof, and chunks of the outer walls missing. It still stood, which was more than could be said about the buildings in the city, but it was still broken, all the same.

“What are we going to do?” Lily asked.

I don’t know, was what Minnow wanted to say, but she knew better. They looked up to her as a guardian, a role model. If she couldn’t deliver on any of those things, then what good was she?

“We’ll have to make do any way we can,” she told her siblings. “We’ll work hard, we’ll rebuild. We’ll get by. We always have.”

She gulped. Those were hollow reassurances, just as every word she told them was. But it was the truth, wasn’t it? She may not have known a lot, but she did all she could for her siblings and they’ve been able to survive so far. With any luck, they could have grown up to be in a better position than her. Wasn’t that always the dream when it came to a guardian and the ones they took care of? To have the predecessor succeed them?

Minnow thought so. But it was hard to measure success when her parents were enigmatic figures. In all the years she spent living with her parents, all eighteen years up until after her graduation from high school, she knew very little. They must have had enough money to have bought the two story house they lived in. But whatever indicator of success it was, it didn’t show when they didn’t go off to their jobs (if they had one) and often times Minnow would spot them on the couch and watching TV. Legs spread, opposite ends of the couch, many beer bottles between them. Sometimes, she could even swear she saw her father holding a needle up to her mother’s arm. Then again, maybe it was the other way around.

All in all, she tried to ignore her parent’s presence, just as they ignored her and her siblings. She never could understand why those two ever had children if they never intended to do anything with them. When Lily and Gill wanted to go outside and play, Minnow followed along to make sure they were safe. The woods they occupied weren’t known to contain bobcats or bears or the like, but that didn’t mean it was without danger. Even a deer could have posed a threat in the right circumstances.

When her parents left her and her siblings at such short notice, she didn’t have much to work with: little bits of food here and there in limited quantities. Lily and Gill would beg for snacks and all she could offer were pieces of cheese and saltine crackers. Not to mention when it came to dinner, she’d have to scrounge around little bits of pasta here and there, boil some water, and hope that the heat would stay on.

It took a lot of sleepless hours before she was able to land a job, and it just happened that the daycare job she took ran between when her siblings went to school until a little after they got out of school. Sometimes, when she was lucky, she would meet up with them. Other times, they had to walk back home on their own. Those days were the worst, as she always feared that one day, they would be taken from her by someone with ill-intentions, or that they would get hit by a car or involved in some other accident. There were many things that could have gone wrong while she was away and the fact that she had to be apart from them for so long brought her no pleasure.

On the other hand, Lily and Gill were overjoyed to be away from their older sister. At school, they had many friends between the two and they felt much more free. Playing around in the grass, getting scraped knees, getting into trouble. It was all in good fun. Not to mention, they got a good meal at their school during breakfasts and lunches as the school provided them with free meals due to their low income household.

Meanwhile, when they returned home, Minnow would force them to do all these chores and make sure they went to bed early. It wasn’t even her strictness, though, but the fact that she was always so close by and would panic at the very thought of either one of them having so much as a scratch. Like the slightest sign that they could have been unwell and she was in a frenzy trying to make things better. Then, when they went into their respective rooms to play, she’d periodically check in and want to know how and what they were doing. It gave both of them the feeling that she could enter at any moment and the idea of privacy may as well not exist.

To some extent, Minnow must have been aware of this. Both the freedom they felt in an environment most felt restrictive as well as the restrictions they felt imposed under what should have been a free place. Minnow didn’t even need to get their honest opinion to know her own flaws, whenever she felt like she was about to go overboard with her involvement, she paused...and continued on anyway. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to correct her behavior, it was just that once she started, it was too hard to stop.

Besides, Null never learned how to take care of others. It was thrown on her when her parents refused to take care of their children. She just figured that if she did the opposite of what they did, that must have been good enough. So what if she was too involved? Better that than not being involved enough.

What she knew about her siblings was that: Lily liked playing basketball at recess. She liked talking about magical girl cartoons that she’d watch on TV (Minnow made Lily and Gill take turns watching TV and allowed them an hour each between them. It wasn’t much, but it at least gave them some time to spare before sleep. Besides, they had other hobbies). She once mentioned to Minnow that she had crushes on a couple of her classmates.

“Hey Minerva, what do you do if you like someone?” She once asked Minnow while Gill was in his room drawing comic characters. The two girls sat at the dining room table across from each other.

“Like, you find them interesting? Do you want to be their friend?” Minnow tilted her head and smiled, both palms on her cheeks.

“No,” Lily shook her head really fast, “well, we’re already friends. But sometimes I get really nervous when she’s close to me and it becomes hard to talk. Then there’s this boy in my class I’m friends with too…”

Minnow put her index finger on her chin. She tried to understand the situation, but just couldn’t. After all, if they were already friends, then they already knew they liked each other, right?

“Do you feel like you like one more than the other?” Minnow asked, still trying to figure out what the problem was.

“Maybe...but I’m not sure which one,” Lily answered, and for a moment she thought her older sister was going to give her legitimate advice.

“Well, if you’re worried about that...maybe try to spend equal time with both so neither feel left out?” She suggested.

Lily pursed her lips. It was a good enough effort, but it wasn’t what she was looking for. She groaned and got up from the table. Minnow was left wondering whether she did a good enough job or not. She was glad to know Lily wanted to confide in her about something, but if she messed up too badly, would Lily want to confide in her again?

It wasn’t like Minnow never had friends, just that none of them ever seemed to last long. There was no one she ever got very close with, either. Or at least, that’s how it looked to her. If someone wanted to be closer, or had romantic feelings for her, she couldn’t tell. Sometimes a friend would ask her to hang out, and despite how desperate her mind begged her to say yes, she knew that she had a responsibility to her siblings, and always denied their request. Being close with someone always seemed like an out of reach goal.

Gill liked to draw comics, though he wasn’t very good at it. Still, he was much better than any attempt Minnow could have ever made as Minnow only ever held a pen to do homework with. Never took an art class, never even considered doodling on her papers. That was how plain Minnow was by comparison. Would she have wanted to partake in art? She wasn’t sure. Hobbies felt like a foreign concept to her.

Gill and his friends liked to play rough. They would sometimes get into fights and there were a couple of times where he got suspended. But he swore it wasn’t serious and it was after the second time that he stopped getting in trouble for his fights. Either he cooled down, or he was more discreet about which battles he picked. He also liked to watch nature documentaries on TV. His favorites were the ones where animals like owls and snakes ate smaller animals like fish, insects, and rodents. Sometimes, Minnow would catch a peek, and such shows piqued her interest. Often times, she would imagine herself as the owl, and it was during those moments where she let a true smile show.

Despite how overbearing both siblings saw her, Gill still liked it when Minnow would read bedtime stories to him. They didn’t have many books, and she didn’t have a wide enough imagination to make up her own stories, but that was fine, as her voice was soft and soothing enough that Gill could fall asleep after just minutes of hearing her voice. Whatever imagination his big sister lacked, he made up for it in his own head. Sometimes she’d read him a story, only get a few minutes in, and he’d be asleep. He still remembered the story the next day and would try to make up what he thought would happen next. When the next night came, rather than continue where they left off, he would tell her to read a different story to him.

There was much more she could have known, she was sure, but just the fact that the ones in her care weren’t total strangers was enough for her.

“The TV won’t turn on,” Lily jumped onto the couch and clicked the remote. She floated it up and around, continuing to press the power button, but to no avail. “I’m going to miss Mahou Shoujo Minty-chan!”

“What?! The TV’s not turning on?! I wanted to watch Honey Badger Chateau!” Gill roared and tried to wrestle the remote from Lily.

Minnow shook her head and frowned. It didn’t seem to set in for either of them the situation they were in. The fact that there wasn’t a roof over their head, or that part of their home was missing.

“No power, huh?” Minnow muttered, which caused both siblings to look her way.

“Did you say something, Minerva?” Lily asked.

“We don’t have electricity,” Minnow explained, her voice dull. It wasn’t like she watched much TV, but just the fact that the three depended on electricity so much brought her great dismay. “And please, call me Minnow.”

“Minnow?”

“Oh, sorry,” she chuckled, “a kid at work today called me Minnie and I thought it might be nice to change my name to Minnow.”

As soon as she said that, she was reminded of how the same kid who called her that was more than likely dead. Either buried under the daycare building or crushed in other ways. Just the thought caused Minnow to wince.

But I won’t let anything happen to Lily or Gill. They’re all I have.

“Well, I like it! It’s cute!” Lily exclaimed.

“Thank you, Lily,” Minnow tried to muster up a smile.

“What are we going to do without electricity?” Gill frowned and crossed his arms.

“I’ll light some candles,” she suggested. It wasn’t much, but it would provide a scant source of light.

“What about having no roof? What will we do about that?” Lily asked. “I don’t want any mice to fall into my room because we don’t have a roof! Mice scare me!”

I wouldn’t let a single mouse hurt you. I’ll protect you from any mice that come our way.

“I could grab some tarp and duct tape from the basement and spread it over the house. It might work,” Minnow glanced down the hallway near where the basement door stood, “we could even sleep in the basement tonight.”

“No way! It’s scary down there!” Lily objected. “There’s big spiders down there! And there could be rats, too!”

Minnow sighed. It wasn’t like the three had many options to begin with.

I’m trying to work with what I got, please understand this, she wished she could say. But she knew it wouldn’t help, especially given their age; sure, they were plenty smart in their own way, but they were still 10 years old. Minnow, meanwhile, was 24 years old. She’s practically had to raise them since they were toddlers (though it felt like longer than that, even though she didn’t remember having to change diapers or anything like that). No matter the fact that all three of them were siblings, it was clear that Minnow was worlds apart from Lily and Gill.

“Very well. I shall gather the tarp and duct tape. Lily, Gill, may you set the table and bring out the candles. I shall light them when I return.”

The two nodded and ran to the cupboard where a candlestick as well as a long, wax candle stood.

Minnow went downstairs to the basement. A musty place with a thick dusty air. She never enjoyed going down there, not once in her life. She always had to hold her sleeve over her mouth. No, it wasn’t a hospitable place, and no amount of cleaning would fix it. Lily and Gill couldn’t possibly reside in there.

Aside from her own footsteps and the creaking of the staircase, the basement was silent. It had a furnace, a washing and drying machine, a water heater, and various boxes which contained the items that once belonged to her parents. Knowledge of such things did little to help, as the poor visibility made it hard to navigate and likewise, despite the knowledge of each item’s placement, she still bumped into things.

Before she reached the tarp on the shelf, she let out a few dry coughs. Next to the tarp was the tape. Oh, and just underneath the shelf, lying on the floor, was the ladder that Minnow would use to climb up the house.

Her nose ran as she made it back up the steps with the supplies. Once back up, she sneezed up a storm of snot.

“Are you okay, sis?” Gill asked.

Minnow wiped her nose with her sleeve and looked at the two with a dull expression. They had already set the table while she still had no idea what she would make.

“I’m as good as I’ll ever be,” she wheezed.

“What’s for dinner?” Gill urged, fists pumped.

“Maybe…” Minnow thought about what they had in the kitchen. She set the materials for the roof down and walked over to the sink. It still dispensed water. Maybe there was just a little bit left in the tank, but once that runs out...who knows?

Even with water, their options were limited. Their stove was an electric one, same with the oven. Couldn’t use the microwave or toaster for that same reason. If they tried to roast their food on the furnace in the basement...but no, that would have been ridiculous.

Why couldn’t our stove be gas or coal based? But even if they were, we’ve never had central heating in our home. The water heated through electricity. If our stove was coal based, we would need coal, which we don’t have. There are no good options, are there?

“Maybe sandwiches,” Minnow answered at last, “like, peanut butter and jelly.”

Minnow hadn’t yet checked the fridge, but there was a very real possibility that none of the food in there was cold.

Food doesn’t stop being cold in the span of an hour. This destruction was so swift, and so recent. There has to be something we can salvage.

“I want macaroni!” Gill demanded.

“I want beef stroganoff!” Lily demanded.

Their words were drowned out and they continued listing off all the different things they wanted. Minnow covered their ears but she could still hear those two words, ‘I want’, penetrate in her head. She dropped to her knees until she at last shouted for them to stop.

“I want pizza!”

“I want...I want...I want…”

“We can’t make those things! Don’t you get it?”

They both stared at her. Lily’s eye twitched. Their eyes began to glaze over and Minnow was sure that they were about to cry.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just as upset about this as you are. We’re going to be eating the same things. We’ll struggle together,” her breath was short and she scrambled to pacify the situation, “I...I...I didn’t mean to yell.”

The two rushed over and hugged Minnow. They began to cry anyway, just the thing that Minnow hoped to avoid. But at least the tears were soft, quiet.

Before they sat down to eat, Minnow climbed up the ladder outside and spread up the tarp. She heard the siblings gasp just as fast as they were blanketed in darkness. There were still the windows, but she knew it wouldn’t provide much until the candles were lit. With tape over each end of the house, she patched up the top. It was a weak solution, one which would provide them with little hope, but it was the only hope they had.

On the second day, they ran out of water.

It happened mid-day. It wasn’t as if they had hot water to begin with. But running water at all helped stave off their reality.

When Minnow turned on the faucet and saw not a drop fall, her heart sank into the lower depths of her chest and she was forced to take a step back.

“What’s wrong?” Gill asked as he looked up from coloring in his drawing.

“We’re out of water,” Minnow stated. Her job was supposed to keep them calm, but how could she do that when she herself wasn’t? No electricity, out of water, lack of food…

“We still have apples,” Lily suggested. It sounded absurd at first, but Minnow remembered the juices the apples contained. How as long as they still had fruits, they could continue to stay hydrated.

“You’re very right,” Minnow let out a deep breath, “thank you, Lily.”

There was a well on the side of their house. If there was water at the bottom, they could have sustained themselves that way. Of course, that wasn’t taking into account how dirty the water might have been (and were it dirty, they would have no way of cleaning it without being able to boil it over). Again, of course, as if it were a curse increasing by the day, there was no luck to be found by having that well. For as long as Minnow could remember, that well stood beside the house without even a puddle of water at the bottom. Even on rainy days, it seemed like the water at the bottom evaporated, for when Minnow would try to check, there was no water to be found.

Still, Minnow checked outside while there was still daylight. To no surprise, the well was empty. Not even a hint of a living creature, like a worm or a snake down there.

But imagine if there was...I think I would have fallen back. Imagine if I turn around, walk back into the house, and just behind me, a grotesque, shadowy creature emerges from that well. It may watch me with glowing eyes, and I might feel a creeping sensation, but as soon as I turn around, the creature disappears.

Minnow shook her head. She knew better to think such things, but she couldn’t help herself. Superstition, being on edge, it may have all been hardwired into her from an early age. She would ignore such ideas as “there are ghosts/demons in the basement,” or “there’s a monster in the closet”, but that didn’t mean those thoughts ever went away.

Lily may have had fear of little creatures as well, like rodents, or bugs, but those were tangible things. If Minnow’s siblings knew of how superstitious their older sister could be, it might have shattered their image of her. Or not, but that was just another thing Minnow would rather not risk. She needed to be reliable. More reliable than their parents were. And showing weakness wouldn’t help any of them.

During the second night when dusk had reached them and their meals had been finished for the evening, there was a heavy gust against the tarp above them. At first it seemed to be a storm, but no rain hit the windows, nor did any leak down from the top. Still, a strong breeze leaked through and the tarp flapped about, and at some instance seemed like it would fly right off.

They were all huddled on the couch, but when they felt the gust land on them, the three moved to the dining room. As if on cue, the breeze followed them and made them shiver no matter where they went. But at least in the kitchen, they believed themselves safe.

“What will we do?” Lily looked up at her older sister.

“I...we’ll get through this. Tomorrow, we’ll fortify, we’ll –” Minnow was cut off as the tarp ripped and something which sounded like a heavy stone landed down on the living room floor. At the same time, the candles on the dining room table were blown out.

“I’ll relight the candle,” she assured her siblings as she made her way to the dining room table.

“Be careful!” The two siblings urged her as they held each other close. It wasn’t an ideal situation for anyone, but...

It’s just a stone...it’s just a stone…

Little taps against the floor were made, and she hoped what she heard was rain. When she reached over to the candle at the table and flicked a match, and lit the candle, a large, worm-like creature facing downward with razor sharp teeth lunged out toward her and she jumped back just in time to not get hit. The worm-like creature had four thin and pointed legs arched down and they were used to spring forward. That beast, which she had avoided, bit down at the table and knocked the candle over, lighting it on fire.

“No!” She shouted as the flames climbed up to the walls next to the table. Staring at the beast, which looked unfazed as it re-positioned itself on its four legs, she continued to back away slowly while her hairs stood on end. Minnow’s movements felt stilted, perhaps she was paralyzed, or in a daze. Anything was possible. But whatever else, she had to protect those most important –

Another crash! A second beast, identical to the first, landed over Gill’s head. He screamed, but the force was too fast, too hard, and the thin legs crossed together and spread as if they were a pair of scissors, and sliced off the top of his head.

Lily screamed, Minnow tried to hold her tight, hold her mouth, but Minnow too was overcome.

Gill’s lifeless self lay on the floor, and the gruesome sight was illuminated for Minnow to witness it all as the beast tore into Gill’s chest and bit into her little brother’s organs.

“Get...get…” she couldn’t even form the words.

“Waa…” Minnow heard Lily’s whimpers and felt tears fall on her hands. Minnow wanted to break down as well, she could feel the tears about to come, but they didn’t. Instead, the sisters let out a gasp as the four legged beast climbed up and latched on top of Gill’s severed head, then their legs expanded, was taller than Minnow herself, and carried Gill’s corpse around.

Both sisters quivered in fear, and behind them, the beast that weaved through the flames lunged at the two. Minnow picked Lily up and carried her in her arms as she swerved out of the way of the lunging beast. Behind her was not only the beast that had tried to attack her, but also the one who had stolen her brother away. Lily the whole while wailed while being carried, and Minnow wasn’t far behind.

She maneuvered toward the door, and just as the walls near it had caught fire and the hinges of the door fell down, along with the door itself. Minnow and Lily were so close until she was tripped by the leg of one of the beasts and fell onto the floor.

“Lily! Run!” She urged her little sister and thought, at least if these beasts take me, she will be safe. I don’t need to survive. But she can grow up, be stronger, wiser, more capable than me.

Lily crawled out from under Minnow and stood close to the door.

“Hurry!” Minnow coughed and wheezed out. Lily looked about, frantic, and turned back to her older sister.

“I don’t want to go without you…” She whimpered.

You don’t have time! She wanted to shout, but instead she shouted out a wordless, desperate gasp as the beast lunged toward Lily and knocked her down. Lily screamed and wailed as she thrashed about while the creature crawled up her.

Minnow stood up and noticed a broom against the wall behind her. She grabbed it and tried to bat the beast away, but the beast didn’t even so much as budge.

“GET! OFF! OF! HER!” Minnow commanded, but it didn’t matter, and the beast continued to advance. Behind, the beast crawled with its long legs and the dangling corpse of her little brother in its mouth. Minnow still tried to shove the back end of the broom into the beast, but slower, as her gaze fixed on the advancing beast. She tried to keep her eyes on the beast on top of her sister as well, with its wide jaws hanging out. In a last-ditch move, she kicked at the beast and tried to pry her sister off, but just as the beast behind her began to lunge, she realized there was nothing she could do, and ran out the door.

Behind her, she heard her sister’s screams, how the last word spoken was for Minnow to save her. Then, she heard a slicing sound and she winced as she only imagined what would come next.

I could have done more. I could have TRIED more, she told herself as she continued to run. But there was nothing I could do. I was powerless. I am powerless.

Tears flooded out, but it didn’t stop her from running through the woods in the dead of night. At one point, she looked back to see her home covered in flames. Not only that, but the shape of the two beasts, with two corpses hung from their mouths, were in clear view. Minnow gasped, then ran further and refused to look back a second time.

At the same time at night that Minnow ran from her home, four women sat in a small enclosure: Pierrot, Lu Bin, Clair, and Null.

The first three were the most important names. Null was...she didn’t know why she was there. Yes, she was a survivor, but of what? At least the other three knew each other. What reason did Null have to be in their company?

They could have left me to die. I would have understood, Null thought in silence as, to the best of her knowledge, the other three were asleep. Clair still sat beside her, and Pierrot and Lu Bin sat beside each other. That didn’t change.

“I think they’ve finally gone to sleep now. There’s no way I can go out there, but what if I’m not really safe in here, either?” Null asked with the softest voice she could muster (Null excelled in quiet. Soft was another story. In other words, there was still a bit of roughness to her voice which she could never get rid of) so as not to wake the others.

“You’re still awake?” Clair asked beside her, and Null, startled, jolted away.

“Aaa!” She yelled out, “I didn’t think you were awake! Or...were you just hoping to watch me sleep?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Clair assured Null, “I just couldn’t get to sleep, either.”

“Well, like,” Null tried to whisper, but it came out harsh and hoarse, “there’s a monster or something? And we still don’t really know what’s going on, but whatever those two saw,” Null pointed her thumb toward the sleeping Pierrot and Lu Bin, “I don’t want to see either. But what if I have no choice? And what if by the time I see it, I’m so horrified I can’t even move?”

“I think I would be the same way.”

That time, Clair Delune didn’t try to hug or hold Null Void. Didn’t go in for a sudden pat. It was just enough, for the moment, for them to speak with each other. It was also at that moment that Null adjusted herself and sat close to Clair once again. I may not want her to touch me, but maybe it’s okay if we stay close, she thought.

“So, what were you a professor of?” Null tried to make small talk. Or rather than small talk, tried to make any kind of talk that wouldn’t force either of them to confront their present situation.

“Astronomy. I wanted to go into marine biology, but after learning what the insides of fish looked like, I decided it was too scary and couldn’t handle it. Now that I think about it though, astronomy is pretty scary, too.”

“Everything is,” Null agreed, “but go on.”

“Like, we’re these tiny little specks on a tiny little dot. Compared to the solar system, we’re like nothing, right? Then you have galaxies. Which we’re just part of one of millions. Do you know how many solar systems are in a galaxy? A lot. Then there’s the universe, which is made up of all the galaxies. It ends up feeling like...in our day to day lives, there’s really nothing of importance. One day, this planet will be gone, and it won’t have made much of an impact on the overall universe. It may be like...just a little fart. If it’s of any consequence at all.”

“Wow. I never thought of it that way,” Null replied, and thought, great. Now I have something new to be afraid of.

“Still, I guess if you look at things from another perspective...there’s all these stars, and on a clear night sky, we can see them. From where we are, the stars look so tiny, even though compared to a single star, we are tiny.”

“Is that really something philosophical, though? It sounds more like an observation,” Null pointed out.

“Why does it matter?”

“Well...sorry. It doesn’t. It’s just, how is it comforting?”

“Maybe it’s not. I don’t know how, nor do I know much of anything. But I do wonder why I’m comforted by such an observation all the same.”

“Well, I’m glad that you have something, that you don’t have to touch, to comfort you.”

“Oh, I doubt I would ever touch a star. They would burn me.”

“I think you’d die before you even got close to one,” Null added in and she almost laughed until she remembered their situation, “of all the places to be stuck in, I never thought it would be in a university. Didn’t even think I’d ever step foot in one of these places.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well...you know! It’s a university. I’m not smart, never have been. I’d try to learn things, sure, but I’d lose motivation. Things would be too confusing. And teachers didn’t have much patience with me. Or maybe that’s not true. I don’t know what the truth is, everyone else seemed to be just fine. Maybe I didn’t have much patience with anything. Maybe at the slightest hint of challenge I’d recoil and walk away, unable to deal with it. That’s always been me.”

“I see. What kind of things would you like to go to school for if you could?”

Null fidgeted before answering, tapping her fingers together.

“I went to community college for a bit. I thought I’d like to draw, be an artist. My parents said it wasn’t good enough and it wouldn’t make me money but I didn’t know what else I’d want to do. All the other classes I had I couldn’t keep up with. Math, science, writing, fitness...got lost too fast or didn’t have the energy. Art was supposed to be my escape.”

“And? Wasn’t it?”

“No. Of course not. Because nothing is ever what I hope for it to be. Whenever I took art classes, I would start to get afraid of empty spaces on a canvas. Like, something needed to be filled. But filling those spaces made people say that the art was worse for it. One time we were supposed to draw self-portraits. When I got done with mine, I thought, ‘this can’t be all there is to me’, so I started drawing cartoon characters coming out of my head and little doodles around the canvas. My art teacher saw it and said, ‘you had a perfectly fine self-portrait and then you fill it up with this crap?’ But I didn’t see it as crap. I saw it as a picture of an ugly person and a bunch of things that made me more than that.”

Null’s blood began to boil and she balled up both hands into fists, but it was too late to stop herself.

“Maybe I wanted to ruin my art, and my world, anyway! It’s my art, it’s meant for me, isn’t it? Or at least that’s what I thought, but the disapproval from others was too much. I’d start drawing less and less, leaving out details, less unnecessary crap. But then I’d get told, ‘it’s too simple. Not enough detail.’ At that point, I stopped drawing altogether. It was just easier that way. Others knew art better than me, anyway.”

“So you wanted to draw? Be an artist?”

Null shook her head, “I just wanted to be something. Don’t ask me to draw. My hand would shake and nothing good would come of it.”

“Maybe if you had a teacher who would encourage you to improve rather than only tell you what they thought was wrong, things might have been different,” Clair suggested.

“Yeah. But trying to get better at something is scary, too. Especially if I fail. It’s just too much for me. I think being nothing suits me better.”

“Does it?”

Null buried her head in her lap.

“What I am or am not doesn’t matter, does it? It’s the end of the world. You’re not a professor and I’m not a student. There’s no expectation to be anything.”

Clair didn’t say anything in response. Of course, that silence may as well have been a nod in agreement.

Maybe I bummed her out too much. It’s my fault for bringing the mood down when we’re already all going to die, Null thought.

“Still, I guess I wouldn’t have minded...if you were my professor,” Null tried to come up with some words of comfort.

“I wouldn’t have minded being your professor,” Clair said in turn.

There was a brief silence, and Null looked up toward the ceiling.

“Um. What do you think you would do if we get through this?” Null asked. Part of her hoped the others were awake so they could answer as well, but she knew that was a useless thing to wish for.

“I think I would like to find out what caused all this and ask...why?”

“Why? Not how? Wouldn’t ‘how did this come to be’ and ‘why did this come to be’ mean the same thing?”

“I just think how and why encompass different things.”

“Well, I think what and how are more important. After finding out what’s going on, we can try to find out how to solve it. If you ask why, it’s like you’re expecting an answer or explanation, but what if you don’t get an answer? Either because the answer is unavailable, or because the cause refuses to give an answer. Would you still ask why?”

“Yes. I’m not looking for an explanation. Just a chance to ask the question.”

“But why would you ask why if you’re not interested in the reason? Isn’t that the whole point?”

“Maybe the why would be for me and me alone.”

Null shook her head.

“You may as well have been a philosophy professor and not an astronomy one,” Null was about ready to give up on the conversation and regretted ever picking the topic, “I can’t even really wrap my head around how and why and yet you seem so confident. Say you find out what’s going on, but you’re about to die, and you have a chance to say any last words. What would you say?”

“I would say ‘why?’”

“Why is this the cause? Why am I dying here? Why now, after all this time?”

“Those might be possible questions. But I would just like to ask, why? Nothing more than that.”

“I give up,” Null sighed, “it’s one of those rhetorical questions, isn’t it? I never understood the purpose of that. Like when my parents would say, ‘would you clean the bathroom?’ When they’re not really asking and more saying, ‘go and clean the bathroom’. They’re not really asking a question, they’re making a statement. But even with those rhetorical questions, they’re expecting some kind of response, some kind of answer. What’s the point of asking a question if you don’t expect an answer? Why?”

“Exactly.”

That didn’t answer anything, but Null had exhausted all the dialogue she could muster. There was no more energy left to probe further.

In the morning, minuscule light shone through and the four stood up. Null was reluctant, and Clair had to pull her up. Lu Bin seemed in a similar state to Null, but managed to stand on her own and she soon looked away from the others, down and toward the door.

As Clair headed toward the door with Pierrot and Lu Bin, Null stuck close to the back wall and didn’t budge. In fact, she was about ready to sit back down.

“You know...if there’s some kind of monster...or whatever...I think I’ll stay in here. Better to die than be killed, after all, right?” Null let out nervous laughter. No one else laughed.

“It will be okay. We’re all together,” Clair urged her to follow. Null shook her head and started to shiver. She wondered why Clair wasn’t doing the same.

“Let her be,” Pierrot said, “we can’t force her.”

Pierrot opened the door and leaked out the light from the dim hallway.

“I’m staying with Null,” Clair said. Null gasped, looked at Clair, pointed at the door, and tried to speak, but couldn’t find any words.

“Professor! We need to stick together!”

“I’ll be okay. You two should go. We’ll catch up.”

Pierrot pursed her lips, but obeyed and left with Lu Bin.

Once the door closed, Clair wrapped her arms around Null’s waist. Null flinched and let out a squeak as she tried to pull away.

“Oh, Null! I was so scared!”

“You’re exaggerating! Surely!” Null, short on breath, was trying to break loose. “O-On second thought! I think I should get out of here!”

“Are you sure?”

Going out there might mean being killed, Null realized and stopped struggling.

“No. I’m not sure,” Null groaned.

From the halls came a low, rumbling growl which carried with it a ripple effect and the room Null and Clair were in vibrated.

I thought that was only supposed to be at night, Null thought, and followed by her thoughts came several pounding steps which shook the floor beneath them and caused the two to fall to the floor.

The stomps became more frequent, rapid in their movements and Null was too petrified to notice Clair holding on tight and screaming the whole while.

Null shut her eyes tight and thought in some naive way that if she did so, everything would go away. Instead, a the wall above the door cracked and against her will, Null’s eyes opened wide only to see what looked like a giant arm poke through. Only...there were no fingers on the hand. Or if there were, it was so hard to tell with the way the arm and hand seemed to dance around and didn’t have a defined shape. What little of the monster’s form that was shown looked like static on a television screen dancing around. Not only that, but little spores grew from the arm and wriggled about.

Clair looked up as well and was in disbelief. Maybe more so than Null, but it was hard to tell. The arm leaned back and Null thought she saw a giant eye poke through, but really it didn’t look like the shape of any eye she knew, and it was more like if she squinted, she could see something large that vaguely resembled an eye. It peered in and all the static Null saw started to encompass her vision outside of the monster; it was like when she had gotten a cut once on her finger and blood spilled forth and she panicked to the point where she began to faint and all around her were little static fragments of nothing.

“Null!” Clair shouted and held her up by her arms. Null blinked and her vision was still blurred.

Before Null could stand straight up, the  front walls blasted forth and knocked both Null and Clair back against the floor. Clair was the first to look back while Null rubbed her head, still in a daze. Null’s consciousness may have been slow, but her heart was beating faster than it had any right to.

Come on, get up, she urged herself, but there was that other thought which stifled her: that she would witness the horror before her. Maybe it would be best to let it kill me. I can’t possibly look. I can’t possibly move. But if I’m just going to let it...no. What else? There’s nothing.

In spite of it all, Null’s eyes forced themselves open and she was made to bear witness to the giant abstraction in front of her and the former professor: some amorphous thing with a jar shape and two large arms and legs made up of disparate pieces of what looked to be some black and white swirling sticky substance bobbing about, all stuck together.

Null saw no eyes on the beast. Indeed, there were no eyes, there was only a mouth, which made up its entire jar-like body and it gaped out with large, crooked yellow teeth, the only tangible shape Null could make out, and red ooze seeped out as the beast let out a rancid breath. Fallen out of the beast’s mouth, perhaps spilled out, was a mangled up corpse with no skin attacked, only muscle and loose tendons. One of the corpse’s arms tore off upon landing on the ground and Null noticed that the corpse lacked a head.

How many others did this thing devour? How many more will it devour?

There was only a small gap to run through. If either of them could fit at all, and if the beast didn’t catch them before they could run. If either of them had enough wits about them to move at all.

“N-Null!” Clair shivered against Null’s back. Her shivers felt like a vibrating chair, “I’ll...I’ll distract that thing. You have to run.”

“What?” Null managed to gasp out. “There’s no way!”

Clair pushed Null off and Null stumbled forward. Exactly where she didn’t want to be. Hunched over, Null plugged her nose as that red ooze spilled forth from the beast’s wide jaw. Null trembled before the beast and tried to take a step but watched that twitching limb and she stopped in her tracks. Right beside Null’s head came a straw basket hurled toward the large beast.

“Take that!” Clair yelled.

A couple of plastic containers came next and landed down beside the beast’s jaw. No doubt it didn’t do any harm to the beast, but if only for a moment, the heavy step turned toward Clair instead of Null.

How is she being so brave now? Against this, no less? She’s going to die! Null panicked, she just wanted to retreat, curl up, but…

She ran while there was still a gap. One hand swooped down but Null ducked under and she ran past. Just behind her, Null could see that Clair stopped throwing the objects forth and ran out as well. Null was out in the hallway, just past the beast, and she wanted to keep running, but turned back to see Clair slip against the bile on the floor. She fell, face down, and lifted her head in disgust as her face was covered in the thick, red liquid.

“Clair!” Null gasped.

The former professor shook and tried to force herself up, brought herself to her knees, but shook her head.

“I can’t do it!” She wailed. “Null! Just run!”

Clair sobbed and fell back down, just in time for the beast to scoop her up in its makeshift arm and tossed her into its large maw.

No. I can’t, I can’t, I…

Null ran anyway. It was wrong. Clair should have lived. That should have been Null. But it didn’t matter, because she ran anyway, ran through those halls and screamed the whole while.

Her eyes shut tight as she ran forward and hoped her legs would propel her to an exit, somewhere in the outside world. Everything was wrong and she didn’t even bother to help Clair up.

Her eyes cracked open to reveal a turn in the hallway to her right. As she turned around the corner, she bumped into a familiar figure.

“You!” Pierrot gasped, then held tight onto the neck of Null’s hoodie. “Where’s the professor?!”

She’s...she’s…

Null didn’t say a word, but she wanted to. She formed movements with her mouth but not a sound uttered out.

“Tell me! Where is she? Where’s my Clair?! What did you do to her?!”

She’s probably being chewed up by that creature. That same fate may await us. She should have been here, I know...and I should be telling you all this, but I’m not!

At last, Null managed to muster up a sound, and she shouted:

“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” And broke free from Pierrot’s grip, only to run past her and Lu Bin, who was sitting off to the side of Pierrot. Null saw in her peripheral that Pierrot ran toward the beast and she thought she could hear, “I want my Clair back!” But she wasn’t sure. Lu Bin, meanwhile, seemed comatose.

Out a set of double doors, she escaped into the brightness of the outside world where a blazing sun shone down on her and blinded her. Just behind, she could hear the shrieks of Pierrot and could only imagine what fate followed.

After that, she caught her breath, then continued to run and she couldn’t quite remember when she stopped next.

Those memories were a lot more vivid than they should have been.

She awoke back in the cave with the dead bug-like beast rotted next to her. Outside there was heavy rainfall.

“Why? Why did I have to remember that? Why have better people died while I continue to live?” She asked herself in a hoarse voice. She needed to go back to sleep, but who knew what other things she might remember if she were to do so. Being awake didn’t stop her from remembering certain things.

She curled her legs up and buried her head in her lap.

“I’m not a good girl. I’m barely even a person,” she said to her memories before drifting back to sleep.

[bluepenguinstories]

(Anxious) Mouse Vertigo Prologue

To say that it came without a warning would have been dishonest; rather, there was a sense of unease and disorientation which rang through every beating heart throughout the day. Some hearts tugged at the chains which tethered them, desperate for escape. Others sank. But those who held their hearts in place paid little mind to such a sensation.

What mind they did give such a sensation came in the form of simple thoughts, easy to dismiss excuses.

I hope I didn’t leave the stove on, one lady in a dark blouse thought while stuck in rush hour traffic. I cooked breakfast this morning and was running late for work. Even still, it should be fine. I don’t forget. I never forget…

Did I remember to lock the door? Another, a couple cars down, white minivan, thought. I’ve forgotten before, but no one’s broken in. At least, I’m pretty sure. Besides, I have nothing worth taking. I’m pretty sure.

In a far off land, it was dusk and a child lay in bed. He couldn’t find sleep that night, and he would stare off into the window next to his bed, watching the faint signs of stars. He lived on the second story of his parent’s house, and from where he resided, were he to open the window and jump down, the fall would surely cause great harm.

I would never do that. Even if I wanted to sneak out, the young boy dismissed, but what if I looked out and saw someone below, someone staring up? What if they tried to climb up? And what then?

He shook his head in fury, pressed the pillow between his ears, and tried to drown out such thoughts.

The window is locked, he argued with himself, only for himself to raise a counter-argument, but they can break the window.

Such thoughts weren’t normal for him, or at least he couldn’t recall such thoughts. There was a great awareness of how small he was compared to the world as a whole. Such thoughts weren’t normal.

Often he had fun with friends, sometimes he would stay over late at a friend’s house. Never did it cross his mind that someone bad would try to enter or that some malicious spirit would terrorize him and his friends. They would sit and play games together. There was always that idea that one of his friends would be too clever for him, would convince him to bet one of his trading cards if he lost a match, and if he lost that match, he would have to give his friend his most prized card.

He liked to play tag at recess. He was considered one of the fastest and even when he ran out of breath he would often have just enough stamina to take a stride out of the way when another kid tried to tag him. Again, when he was ‘it’, he would sometimes be just out of reach of who he wanted to tag, but eventually he would catch them. Never at recess did the thought cross his mind of falling in the grass, the concrete, or the bark chips. Never did he consider that one of those chips would wedge their way into him, or that he would slip in the mud and bugs would crawl across his arms and legs.

Once, he saw a kid who leaped from the play structure and upon landing, twisted their ankle and dislocated their shoulder. Paramedics had to be rushed in and there was a great commotion. He heard the kid’s cries all the way from the classroom. All the other kids in his class looked outside. Some captivated, some turned back to the teacher when she got their attention.

Another time, snow fell outside during their class. Earlier in the day, there was a fog, but not a thick one, and such fogs were normal that time of year. That said, the class filled with excitement and once they were dismissed for recess, many ran out and played in the snow. Snowball fights were abundant. One of his classmates, however, had to be rushed back inside. Said classmate had dark hair and flakes of snow covered his face. He remembered there being a foil blanket (or at least it looked like foil) and his classmate shivered without end. ‘Hypothermia’, the teacher called it.

One day, with his family, he played at the beach. His sisters made sandcastles, he headed toward the tide hoping to swim. On his way, he noticed a washed-up jellyfish. He heard how they could still sting, even when dead, and recalled how painful such stings could be. There was the brief urge to poke it with a stick, but said urge passed just as soon as it came. That day, the tide was low. There weren’t any signs of sharks in the water. No eels.

To be safe, he stuck close to the shore. Not long after, he fled to play in the sand as well, and without a shovel, opted to dig through by hand. Not far in, he felt a scratch and began to itch. There was a small, brown thing laying there and seeing such a thing caused him to fall back. Despite no long-lasting pain, he continued to scratch against the place the creature had marked him. His mother walked over, knelt down, and said ‘sand flea’. He remembered such a term for years to come, yet never encountered one again. Despite this, he continued to visit the beach and the idea of encountering one never left him. Many of his beach trips ended with him in a sunburn. After so many times, he knew better than to walk around with sunscreen. Memory would leave him during crucial moments and the mistake continued.

None of those thoughts were relevant to why he had trouble with sleep that night. Just that the memories resurfaced, those little incidents. Another cropped up, and again, at the playground. This time, it was a more recent thought:

Over the fence next to the playground lay an old looking house. There was an old looking well, dead plants, dead grass, and the house itself looked in ill-repair. Part of the back door to the house could be seen and it too looked busted, with cracks in the wooden boards. If one tried to peer through...no. There wasn’t anything to see. Always too dark. In the windows, the curtains were always drawn. The other kids claimed that a witch lived there, and one kid recalled a story of someone who went back there and wasn’t seen again. One day, a ball was thrown over and an ignorant kid went and retrieved it. Nothing happened.

Of course, he thought, there isn’t really a witch.

He must have voiced such thoughts before as another kid mentioned, the witch only comes out at night.

That made him want to go out at night and see for himself. But he never did.

And, of course, there wasn’t a witch outside his window. It wasn’t the same witch who resided next to his school, and if he listened close, he wouldn’t hear the witch chanting some haunting sounds. Rather, he might have heard the faint howl of the wind, or the branches of the tree in the backyard scraping against the house.

He tensed up, and the light flicked on outside his door, letting a faint light in.

Maybe now that it’s not so dark, I won’t have to think so much and I can sleep, he thought, and continued to lie awake anyway. For a new thought persisted, one that whoever turned on the light, whoever was in the hallway, wasn’t one of his parents. Nor was it one of his sisters. Maybe he would open the door and find no one at all and the light would flick back off to trap him within the darkness of the night. Or maybe whoever was out there would open his bedroom door and let themselves in, uninvited.

No such thing happened. He soon drifted off to sleep with one last thought:

Nothing. No such thing.

Earlier in the day,  before the calamity came to pass, such uneasy feelings were common for the young woman who held tight to the railing of the stairs she descended from with slow, deliberate steps. She needed to be far from the apartment, and fast. She knew she closed the door behind her, she thought she didn’t slam it, but maybe she did. If she did, her parents would…

In a sweep, the door forced itself open. Behind her, a tall man who wore a striped business suit and had broad shoulders as well as short, combed-over orange hair.

“NOLAN! HOW MANY TIMES?” His roar tore through every apartment, and he wasn’t done with those four words. However, everything else that spilled from his mouth became drowned out as the young woman tried to bring herself further down.

“I’m sorry!” She cried back, sure that his furor had to do with her slamming the door. As much as she knew she had to get down fast, her legs wouldn’t cooperate. They seldom did, opting instead to rely on her mind to do all the work for them. She knew what the problem was, too, and it was the idea of her slipping or falling down the stairs. That even with holding onto the railing, her balance would fail her and she would…

Against the edge of the metal brick which made up the next step, her heel bent down and she almost fell to the ground, face first. It was her holding onto the railing which caught her, and even then her arm yanked forward and she had to pull herself back up. Once she did, she quickened her pace, scurried down the last steps and fled from the apartment complex.

Her father might have still been outside the apartment, and maybe he followed her down, and maybe if she looked back she would see him. She looked back, but didn’t see him. If she had walked back up the steps and tried to open the door, she would have found it locked. There were no messages her parents sent to her phone; she knew they liked to get their messages across without text.

Nolan...Nolan…

That name her father yelled. Yes, Nolan. As in Nolan Void. There had been scant attempts to correct them, her parents, but to no avail.

Correct? About what? Wasn’t that her name?

Null.

That other name they gave her never fit, always brought the images of caterpillars crawling across her skin. She couldn’t explain what it was about that name, either, other than it meant nothing to her. Rather, when it was spoken, it was often spoken as a punishment. Used in conjunction with some form of scolding and disapproval. Some form of disappointment which she carried on her back and could never set down. In other words, it was less than nothing to her; it was a name to denote the negative. Such a name wasn’t even used to describe her failures in spectacular ways. At least then she would have had stories to tell.

Sometimes she meant to state her name.

“Null,” she would try to speak up, but it only came out as if she were stuttering. She may as well have been and there were even little sparks in her mind which suggested as such to her. They were either ignored by her parents, or her mother or father would ask her if had something to say. At those times, their words were softer, more inviting, but part of her recognized it as a trap. They loved to teach her lessons, as parents were meant to teach their children, weren’t they? How else would they understand the world around them?

So, she knew, after prior lessons, that to speak up may as well have meant speaking out, and speaking out meant disrespect. Never mind the fact that her parents meant well and it just happened to be Null who ruined things for herself.

“Did you say something?” Her father would ask, eyebrow raised, turned away from his television set, and startled, she turned, her heart slamming against the walls of her chest.

“No. I. Stuttered, I think,” she would say back, in a frantic attempt to save herself.

“Don’t stutter. It’s rude,” her mother would remind her.

“Y-yes. I mean, yes. Sorry.”

Another mistake. But her mother looked away and carried on. At least in that instance.

How many instances, though, when her mother or her father didn’t look away? Instances where she spoke when she knew better than to? Null couldn’t count that high, and the idea of attempting to filled her with dread. As each incident played out in her head, that sickening feeling increased and she made a desperate attempt to shake it off of her.

There was somewhere where she needed to be and she wouldn’t get there by remaining idle. Next to her was the alcove where the apartment complex resided, where the stairs she had descended from. Chips from the black paint coating had fallen off the railing of the stairs to reveal rusted metal. The outer walls of the apartment complex itself held a white paint with bumpy surfaces, much like the ceiling in her parent’s apartment. Cracks and fallen chips from the outer walls were scattered across the ground with little care given to clean up the mess. Above Null was the sign which displayed the name of the complex, however, letters of the sign were missing and had been for years.

Null could never understand why her parents chose to live in such a worn-down, neglectful space when they often boasted about their wealth and accomplishments. She at times suspected that the two had another home far-off where they would go to get away from her. It never crossed her mind that they weren’t as well-off as they told her they were and that they had just been compensating. After all, she never inquired about their lives and as they had told her countless times, she was lucky enough just to live with them at her age, she tried not to push her luck.

One foot in front of the other, she took unsteady steps and tried to focus on reaching the mall downtown. There was someone waiting for her there. Or maybe she would be the one to wait first. Maybe that other person wasn’t going to show up and just wanted to give Null false hope as a joke. That too, was possible, but it was all she had to keep her going, so with her lack of balance, she headed in the direction of the mall.

While her apartment complex wasn’t far from downtown, it was right outside the area, and once she stepped in the vague zone where the city was most populated, she would have to deal with the crowds and their ill-regard for others. Even after wading through the downtown area, there was the matter of the food court where her friend, Panache, awaited her. That too would be a nightmare. Each person who gathered around that boxed-up space resembled in her mind a colony of ants who, if they so desired, would team up and tear an outsider limb from limb.

Elsewhere, at a canyon in Colorado, stood a group of seven individuals who awaited the calamity to befall. For the past year or so, they gathered in a hidden chamber underground, through a tunnel beneath a false rock. Each of these individuals wore flannel shirts and gathered at a makeshift altar with a charred, mummified corpse rested upon it. While one of its members may have claimed the corpse to have been a sacrifice, the truth was that none had carried out such a ritual, and instead, the body had been dug up from a grave. As the grave was unmarked, the group found it fair game to use.

Of the seven members, four were male and three were female. They each identified by a pseudonym and took an oath to throw away their old names upon joining the group. They were as follows: Borges, Mansfield, Pynchon, Ocampo, Steinbeck, H.D., and Joyce. Once Joyce, the final member, joined the group, they decided that seven was all they needed. Any more and it would have missed the point of the whole organization. Above all, they wished to retain meaning within the group in the otherwise meaningless world they occupied.

In short, it could be said that they were a doomsday cult, but only due to the fact that they already viewed the world as doomed to begin with.

Pynchon, in a deerstalker cap, approached Joyce, who felt the essence of the ill-ease within him. It marred him to the point where he perspired despite the cool air which flowed through their hidden temple.

“Are you harboring doubts?” Pynchon asked his fellow church member. They never gave their group a fancy title, and believed church would suffice, given that it was all-encompassing.

“I…” Joyce looked away. So many restless dreams and for a moment which may not even come to pass. Why did he ever agree to such a thing?

Joyce was a much different person a few years back. Attended university at a prestigious academy, had a loving girlfriend, parents who supported him, and a wide circle of friends. His studies involved the environment and he looked toward ways to slow (and even eliminate) the effects of an ever-worsening climate. Solutions, which he found, were not difficult to uncover.

However, as easy as it should have been to tackle such an issue, whenever he tried to bring it up with his professors, he was dismissed. He would try to write to congress, only to be ignored. He would vote in any election he could for any candidate which seemed to have policies which could tackle the changing climate. None of the candidates he voted for made it very far into their elections. Not even close.

He read up on how the politicians in power were backed by fossil fuel corporations, who had a vested interest in profit above all else, even the health of the planet in which they called home. Even when those corporations’ deeds were brought to light, even when the politicians were called out on their ties, nothing changed. He witnessed scientists protest in front of the headquarters of these corporations, tie themselves to the doors and cry out for even the smallest of changes to occur. Instead, said voices were drowned out by the hail of bullets brought down by the private security which the corporations had on their payroll.

That wasn’t all: in addition to the climate, he read up on water shortages, stagnating wages, rising health care costs, and protests over social and economic injustice, protests over police violence, all met with more violence and no improvements. Every little issue which could have easily been solved, but wouldn’t, ate at him as he couldn’t see a way out of it. Nothing helped and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

The further he dived in, the more it began to affect his personal life. The overwhelming stress distracted him from his studies, made it impossible to think despite how easy it once was for him. One day, between semesters, his mother died of a brain tumor. Soon after, his father committed suicide, unable to cope with the loss of his wife. He didn’t attend either of their funerals.

Instead, he sank back and isolated himself in his room. Left all the lights off, neglected his studies. Neglected to shower, to brush his teeth, ate less and less as the days went by. His friends as well as his girlfriend tried to text him, to enter his home, but he refused to speak to any of them. At times, desperate, he thought, I want them to know how much I appreciate their concern. I just can’t bring myself to speak.

So he dropped out and failed all of his courses. His girlfriend broke up with him over text, his friends felt too alienated by him and so too did they stop associating with him. With no one left in his life, he felt both a mix of despair, yet also a strange sense of liberation. Soon after, he became homeless. Without a job or money to support him, he could no longer live where he did. At that point, it no longer brought him down, and further fueled the strange liberation he began to welcome. No one in his life, nothing in the world that would get better, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

What was that saying? “When you’ve hit rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up”? He didn’t know if those were the right words or who had said them first, but he didn’t quite agree. Either because he didn’t want to go up, or because he thought there was lower yet he could go.

Joyce couldn’t recall who approached who first. He just remembered it being at a soup kitchen. Pynchon volunteered there, and he wore the same flannel jacket and deerstalker hat which Joyce would come to wear. However, Pynchon wore dark glasses and a rotten smile upon his face as he passed soup to each person. Joyce refused to wait in line. He refused to eat such a meal lest the taste end up being so exquisite that it fooled him into thinking that there was still some good in the world. To that end, he stood against the wall, off to the side, and just watched as Pynchon stood against the table, hunched over and portioned each meal with his ladle into the hands of the hungry.

“Why, young man, don’t you eat?” Pynchon addressed Joyce in a move which startled the young man and caught him off guard. Despite the softness of his words, the timbre of his voice was that of a smoker’s.

I have no reason to lie to this man. Even if he chooses to ridicule, that doesn’t stop the hopeless reality in which we live in, Joyce thought before grunting and said to the volunteer, “whether you believe that some of us are here by choice or circumstance is irrelevant. If some of us manage to escape the situation we are in, it won’t make any difference to the state of the world as a whole. We’re all doomed to die, one way or another. So why should I eat something which could fool me into thinking there’s a life worth living when I already know better than that?”

Pynchon let out a hefty chuckle and said back to the boy, “everyone deserves to eat, regardless of the state of the world or the situation they happen to be in. You may die tomorrow, you may die today. Wouldn’t you want a last meal before you go?”

“It makes no difference to me whether I eat soup or I eat dirt. When I go, I go.”

Joyce was adamant and he crossed his arms to emphasize such a point.

“Very well,” Pynchon leaned down and scooped up a handful of dirt off the ground, then poured it into an empty bowl, “here you go, young man.”

Joyce balked at such an arrangement and Pynchon wheezed, tilted the bowl until the dirt fell out and scooped up some soup from out of the pot with his ladle, “I knew you wouldn’t really want dirt.”

Joyce scowled and stepped forward to claim the bowl that the strange man had offered him. When Joyce got close, he heard Pynchon whisper:

“You’ve been lonely for so long, haven’t you? I share some of your sentiments, but when I say share, I mean that I don’t hold that sentiment alone. You, boy, may be who I have been looking for.”

After the soup had run out and most of the attendants had dispersed, Joyce remained. So too, did Pynchon.

“Many call people without homes vermin and the like. You might look down on me as well, but I want you to know that the feeling is mutual. People as a whole are vermin and the only difference is some wear nicer clothes,” Joyce said to the man, unprompted.

“Is that so? Should I test your theory and put fancy clothes upon you?” Pynchon entertained Joyce’s declaration.

“No need. I used to be the one with the nicer clothes. I already know from experience. I was even someone whom you could say held great privilege. Came from a well-off household, and was sheltered. All it did was provide me a blanket to shield myself from the truths of the world. I know now how much we have ruined ourselves, all by our own design.”

Rather than agree or disagree, Pynchon walked out toward the street and motioned for Joyce to follow. “Come, follow me, and if you are as doomed as you say, then there is nothing to gain. However, by that same token, there is nothing to lose as well.”

Joyce couldn’t argue. Rather, if he tried, no words would come out. He just followed Pynchon down the street and through busy roads until they reached a parking garage. There, they got into a Jeep where a woman in another flannel outfit and deerstalker hat awaited them. Joyce not only felt out of place, but wondered why the two wore the same thing. Then, he noticed that the woman was without hair when she lifted her cap for just a second so as to scratch the top of her head. He looked to Pynchon, who sat in the driver’s seat, and noticed that he too was without hair.

When Joyce asked why, Pynchon explained it like this:

“We are waiting to see what becomes of the world before allowing it to grow. Of course, you do not have to follow in our footsteps.”

The woman beside Joyce introduced herself as Ocampo, and explained how she had been trapped in a loveless marriage with a husband who controlled her assets and would beat her if she did not go out of her way to serve him and obey his every whim. One day, when she was at work, she swallowed some pills and called emergency services. An ambulance took her to the hospital where she was presumed not in immediate danger and was discharged. She threw her phone out of the window while driving on the freeway and rather than drive home, had no set destination in mind, nor money in her name. She just drove until she ran out of gas and wanted to see where it took her.

There must have been more to her story, but she didn’t disclose any further. When the three arrived at the hideout in the canyons, one of the members, but not Pynchon, explained the church’s purpose. Together, they would pray for the arrival of a being they only referred to as their ‘Mother’ who would bring about an upheaval to humanity. They claimed not to know the exact day Mother would arrive but only that when said being did arrive, it would be felt across the world.

Needless to say, Joyce had doubts. Many, in fact. It was only the fascination with their fanaticism and his own morbid desire which kept him in place. He didn’t even see himself as a necessary asset, nor anyone else. What could they do any more than he could? Indeed, he never witnessed any special ritual or any magical display. They were just praying and banking on some kind of indescribable force to do what? Doom the world in a glorious way?

“It’s natural to have doubt,” Pynchon placed a hand on Joyce’s shoulder. It made Joyce shudder, but he kept quiet, “I would not fault you for such things. Especially on a day like this. You feel it too, don’t you?”

That pit in his stomach, his intestines twisting in knots. He felt something, however abstract.

“What kind of mother are we expecting?” Joyce gulped and asked Pynchon.

“Ah. Mother is not our mother. Mother is not a woman, nor man. We have done all we can to concentrate the energy that Mother will embody – either anger or fear. Either way should produce similar results, but it is hard to tell until Mother arrives.”

“And why do we call this thing ‘Mother’?”

“Because Mother will give birth to a new world. As you as well as the rest of us have observed, this world can only be saved through a great devastation. Without such a thing, it is impossible to imagine any other world besides the world we have now.”

Earlier that day, H.D., who seldom spoke save for only the times in which she found her words important enough to speak, announced that their ‘Mother’ would arrive. Steinbeck, sprawled out on the floor, one hand on his left breast, the other outstretched above him, cried, “yes! I feel it too! We may finally be allowed to live off the land!”

We already live off the land and look where it got us, Joyce scowled upon hearing Steinbeck’s cries, we took the land and tore it apart, reshaped it until we saw fit. If there’s something to desire, it’s for the land to live off of us.

Now, as all seven members stood side-by-side, they held out their hands as if begging for a morsel of food. Joyce did the same, though he must not have been as passionate about it as the rest of them. Surely they could tell, and what then? Would they have sacrificed him upon the altar for his lack of faith? Or was it too late for that as they were expecting for their wish to come true?

Above, dust fell from the ceiling and the room they stood in shook while a great rumbling was heard. All seven members wobbled and struggled to keep their balance and gasped in delight. Even Joyce, despite deluding himself into thinking that he was still playing along. When the shaking stopped, everyone regained their balance and looked at one another without a word. That is, until Joyce spoke:

“Does that mean...that…?”

“It could have been. It could have also been a minor quake. This isn’t the most stable land, and earthquakes are known to be frequent here. I believe that when our Mother arrives, we won’t feel it,” Borges theorized.

“How does that make any sense?” Anger rose in Joyce. “Shouldn’t we be feeling something? Pynchon said it would either be anger or fear!”

“For a short while, it may not be so apparent. I do believe the results will be instantaneous, as with the impact, but the exact attribute may take some time to settle in. After all, anger can stem from fear, as well as fear stemmed from anger,” Pynchon explained to Joyce.

“Anger can also stem from sadness. As with fear. Who’s to say the being won’t resemble sadness?”

“Who’s to say?” Borges laughed, “why, us! We are not sad ones, are we? We are hopeless ones. When a creature is cornered, they either react in fear or anger. It’s as simple as that.”

It’s not as simple as that, but that man is impossible to argue with! Joyce thought with rancor, he always acts like he knows the nature of the universe!

Another brief shake, this one more faint, and Joyce didn’t even notice any movements in the room. He wondered if that shake only happened from within.

“Do you know what it means to pray for Mother’s arrival?” Pynchon wheezed with a crooked smile. Joyce looked up at the one who invited him into the church and felt that familiar cold sweat wash over him.

What does it mean? It’s simple, isn’t it? But before I answer such a question, I would like to ponder whether or not this abstract being will arrive. If it doesn’t, then wouldn’t we all just look silly? Wouldn’t that mean that I have wasted my time? But, if it does, wouldn’t we come to regret the consequences? Wouldn’t that mean that I not only doomed myself, but everyone else? But the world was already doomed from the start. All we would be doing would be speeding up the process. If anything, we would be doing humanity and the world as a whole a favor. That is, if such a thing were to arrive…

“It means that we would be praying for genocide,” Pynchon said as he must have grown impatient with Joyce’s lack of answer.

That admittance drained all the color from Joyce’s face (what little color he had, what with being such a pale man). He knew the answer, knew all this time, and he must have thought to himself for years that was what humanity really needed. But it was cruel, it was evil, and stating it, actually saying the word, was something else. It was what he wanted, but not what he wanted to have said to him.

“Is it too late for me to reconsider?” Joyce squeaked out in a whimper.

Nobody answered him.

Far from the site of the church, back in the city where Null was short on breath and she held onto every wall she could while attempting to navigate such a cutthroat place. To her, she had no grand ambition, no inner thoughts of wishing for the end. She didn’t have to. Every day, Null’s world was on the verge of ending, only for it to rebuild itself the next day so Null could relive its terror.

Her hoodie was over her head, and her messy red hair (often described as tangerine colored) covered part of her eyes. That didn’t mean she wasn’t noticeable, but it was the best she could do to hide herself away in plain sight.

Sky was blue, cloudy, not too hot, but blinding in its brightness. From her position, she could look toward the sky and see the faint, white clouds. Not dark enough to cast a shadow. Not enough of them to shield her from the sun’s hateful rays. Looking anywhere was a daunting task, as she was toward the right end of the crowd with several people in front, beside, and behind her, all packed tight in such a way that she couldn’t see ahead of her, and when she tried to take peeks at the street to her left, she could only catch a partial view of it.

Not seeing the busy street wasn’t a problem for her, and hell, being furthest away from it was an advantage if nothing else. The further away, the safer she was from falling into moving traffic. Some may have said such things were ridiculous, but she knew that the odds were never zero. At best, she could see the shops and various buildings to her right. It was, of course, by virtue of standing right next to it, and she would have thanked the walls which supported her had it not been for the many watchful eyes.

What if I’m not paying attention and I accidentally touch a spider and it bites me? One of her terrible thoughts emerged and she flinched in place, bumping into at least two large and imposing figures in business suits. Her shoulders and left arm were sore and she was sure it didn’t hurt any of those people in the slightest. Not that she ever wished to hurt anyone.

“Watch where you’re going,” one of the figures grumbled and walked past her. He was a gruff, broad shouldered man in a business suit. Likewise, one of the other figures who walked past was also tall with broad shoulders and wore a business suit. She was no more pleased than the man had been, but didn’t bother to say anything.

Despite the fact that they had already passed, Null crouched down and sat on the sidewalk, knees raised and held her arms over her head.

“Please...please,” she begged and was on the verge of tears. Maybe had she cried and continued to beg, someone would stop and ask her what was wrong, but no tears came. No one kicked her, no one shoved her aside. Everyone walked around and past her, with a few grumbling some choice words which she couldn’t make out.

It took several heaving breaths before she held onto the wall and pulled herself back up.

Panache is waiting for me. I might be late. She might be waiting too long and be gone already. Then it would be all my fault. Just as it always is, Null refocused on her objective. If it even should have been her objective.

“She told me she’s reading the same book as me!” A delighted young man told his friend. Null couldn’t understand where it was coming from until her hand slipped as the wall was gone and she struggled for balance. In front of her was an open cafe, and it stretched far. She saw two young men seated together at said cafe. One, short blonde hair, the other, short black hair. Both of them had coffee served to them by a less than pleased waitress (or was it a barista? Null never went to such places).

“Oh yeah, what book is that?” The blonde haired friend asked.

“The Black Goat’s Egg! I keep telling you about it!”

“Oh yeah. That freaky monster shit.”

“It’s not just ‘freaky monster shit’! It’s surprisingly deep with themes of isolation and loneliness! She also says she likes Kafka, just like me!”

“Wow. Nerdy girls are your thing, huh? Well, I’m happy for you, bro.”

“I didn’t say...what girls are my thing. Err...she’s probably not even into me and just being nice.”

“No, no, I can tell Rize likes you. She gives you that look.”

Why am I listening to this? Why do people have to talk so loud about their crushes? And really, that guy just up and admitted he reads horror? For fun? People are scary enough as it is.

Null quickened her pace. She didn’t want to hear another word. The soles of her worn-out sneakers clacked against the pavement and she folded her arms together, hunched down (her posture never being that good) and hoped that with her tensing up, it would free up space for everyone else. Despite her focus on the mall ahead, she couldn’t get that conversation out of her head.

Really. Good for them. But why? Why did I have to hear such painful things? Some people are just lucky enough to have one friend and those two want to talk about crushes? Shouldn’t they just be happy to have each other? It’s bad enough that the relationship with the one friend I have is hanging by a thread. We were much closer once, I’m sure. It’s all my fault that we’re not now, her thoughts raced and she wished she could shift them to something more pleasant. For her, true horror was having one bright spot in an otherwise miserable day and still seeing it as an impending disaster.

She was closing in on the mall. Soon she would have to confront such a disaster.

Minerva Pond was a hard worker. No one could deny that. Not her siblings, not her coworkers, not her...anyone else. It wouldn’t take long for anyone to see how hard she worked and all for the sake of her siblings. That dilapidated home on the outskirts of the city she lived in, a two-story home tucked in a grove, obscured by a crowd of trees.

To say it was a day like any other wouldn’t have been accurate. She felt it, just as everyone had. And just as it had been for most, it came off as a normal worry.

I hope Lily and Gill are doing okay. It pains me to leave them alone even for a moment. They’re still so small and yet I force them to be independent in ways they shouldn’t have to be. Too many times have I not been there to walk home with them and our city can be quite dangerous. I could try to cut my hours at work, but then I wouldn’t make as much and every little bit is necessary for our survival. Oh, if only I could afford to hire a babysitter. If only I had a friend who offered to watch them. But that too is a problem. No one else knows them as well as I do. No one could be a good fit to watch them but me, those worries flooded her brain while she watched over the many small children at her work.

Some crawled around on the carpeted floor, some played house with dolls, some took a nap, and some tossed a ball to one another. She sat at a bench in the room along with two other daycare workers, and they held sandwiches in hand. Not Minerva, she had only packed a banana. But she was trying to be frugal with her consumption so that Lily and Gill still had enough food when they got home. Every day was tight and it didn’t help that her parents were long gone, having simply walked away one day.

It would have been easier to tell Lily and Gill that they had died if not for the fact that the two saw their parents walk out on them with no other explanation than, “we can’t deal with this anymore.”

Minerva tried to reassure them that mom and dad would return, but knew better than that, herself. Their parents never cared for the three children. When she had graduated high school, the disrespectful elders took it upon themselves to leave the younger children in Minerva’s care, never asking the eldest child if she wanted to take on such a responsibility.

Of course, the answer would have been no.

Not for the lack of care, as at least unlike her parents, she had that going for her, but because she didn’t know anything about raising children. She should never have been given such a responsibility and yet it was thrown at her with little regard. If only she had seen the warning signs when her parents paid her little regard. Never cooking for the three, never around to watch over them. They boasted their two accomplishments: giving their children a roof over their head and keeping a steady supply of food in the kitchen. The latter was an important part, as they never actually made meals for anyone and it fell on Minerva to cook for her and her siblings, else they all starve.

So it went. In order to keep up with the house and make sure everyone was fed and well, she would have to get a job to support them. Not only that, but she had to find one fast, and one that she was capable of performing while working around her siblings’ schedule. Other jobs may have boasted a flexible schedule, but those jobs wouldn’t have paid enough to warrant working them. It was pure luck that a job at a daycare fell on her lap.

One of the kids passed the ball too hard to the other and the ball ended up hitting the other kid in the head. Said kid fell back and began to cry floods of tears as snot ran down their notes. Minerva had seen such things before, almost on a daily basis, and rushed over to the crying child, knelt down, and brought out a tissue. She wiped away the snot from their face and with the other end of the cloth, wiped away their tears.

“Thank you, Minnie,” the child said, calmer yet still wept.

“Minnie,” Minerva pondered the name aloud before coming to a conclusion, “how about ‘Minnow’?”

“Okay, Minnow,” the child smiled. Minerva, or rather, Minnow, gave the child a pat on the shoulder.

“Hey Holly, can you get some ice and wrap it in a towel for Sherry?” Minnow asked one of her coworkers who was midway through her sandwich. Holly had really been enjoying her sandwich and thought that it would have been fine for Minerva to take care of it all herself, but knowing what a selfish thought was, got up without objection and headed toward the kitchen.

Minnow turned back toward Sherry.

“How about you lay down for a bit, okay Sherry?”

Sherry, who had seemed inconsolable just a second ago nodded with a smile and headed off to lay down. Minnow reached over for the ball and held it in her hands. That same ball which struck little Sherry in the head and left a bump. When Minnow turned her head, she saw the boy who had thrown the ball shaking in place and was in tears as well.

“I...I...didn’t mean to,” the boy said through tears.

Minnow shook her head.

“I know, Timothy. I’m not mad,” Minnow reassured.

“You’re not?”

“No. You just need to be more careful. Sometimes we don’t know our own strength. It’s important to adjust based on what each person can handle, as not everyone can handle the same things.”

Timothy didn’t understand all of what Minnow meant, but nodded and cheered up. Minnow handed the ball to him and he took it, ran over to a cabinet and set it inside, then ran over to Sherry to apologize. When Holly returned with the ice-filled towel, Minnow pointed to where Holly lay.

When Minnow sat back down, the other daycare worker, named Raul, turned to her in astonishment.

“How do you handle them so well? It’s like you’re a natural,” he commented.

“I am anything but,” Minnow replied, hand on her chest, “I’m just used to taking care of my siblings at home.”

“Ah, but you’re so good with kids,” Holly joined in, having taken care of Sherry and hoping to finish her sandwich. She sat beside Raul and continued in the praise, “and you’re so kind, as well. Do you by any chance have a boyfriend?”

Minnow found the whole question ridiculous but kept her laughter down to a soft chuckle.

“No, nothing of the sort.”

“A girlfriend, perhaps?” Holly then suggested.

“No. No partner of any kind. I don’t have time for that kind of thing.”

“Oh, come on! Anyone would be lucky to be with you!”

Minnow raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so? Even you?”

Holly and Raul fell silent and scratched their cheeks.

“Well...not me,” Raul gave his hesitant reply, “I’ve...kind of already got someone. But anyone else, surely!”

“And...sorry, you’re not exactly my type,” Holly also came up with a quick excuse, “but you’d be anyone else’s type, I’m sure!”

Of course. ‘Anyone else but me’. That’s usually how it goes, Minnow found the whole thing amusing.

Null waited at the food court. Just as she thought it would be, it was crowded. Only one seat available. How would Panache sit without any available seating? Well, Null could give up her seat. She never needed to sit, anyway. As Null waited, her stomach growled.

There was nothing she could do about it. She reached into her hoodie pocket, pulled out a few coins, and counted them. No. No use. She already knew that and she was such a fool for counting anyway. Not a single thing at this mall could be bought with the meager amount she held. Not even one of those cinnamon rolls which had more frosting than roll.

It’s okay. That change is for when I stop at a convenience store. They have cheap things to eat, Null reminded herself. All was well on that front, if no other. She lowered her head down on the table and every other second checked her phone for any new messages. None.

The chance of Panache not showing up increased with every second. Not that her friend was late, far from it. In fact, Null had arrived early. But being early did nothing to erase the suspicion.

I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t show up. I’m not the most pleasant to be around. We’ve been hanging out less lately. I know she’s been busy with work and I’ve got too much time to spare, being a freeloader. She must resent that part of me. Not to mention how she has other friends and I just happen to have her. She also happens to live with her boyfriend. No, was it fiance? I don’t remember and if she knew that I didn’t remember, she would have all the more reason to hate me. With all the support she has and the work she’s got...she must not think of me much at all. Am I even worth thinking about?

This must all seem crazy, I mean, if she didn’t think of me at all she wouldn’t have agreed to hang out with me, right? But she could have just taken pity on me. What do I even contribute to this friendship? What have I ever contributed? Perhaps...no, those things were terrible.

At various points, Null would share comics, books, and shows she enjoyed with Panache, and mentioned how great she found them. She pushed those interests onto Panache thinking that she would love them too, and then as it would often turn out, when discussed, Panache would point out elements that Null either forgot about or overlooked which had made Panache uncomfortable. Null would, at first, respond by begging Panache to overlook them as well and focus on the good elements. But that didn’t work and afterward Null distanced herself from the work which she once found great.

That was how it went, a constant stream of shame. Thinking back on that was, itself, a shameful act, and Null really did only want to focus on the good elements. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what they were any more…

Once, years ago, Panache said she wouldn’t give up on Null during a time when Null was going through a breakdown after a nasty bout with her parents.

They had chastised and berated her over her decision to drop out from community college, stating that it should have been the easiest thing for her to do, and if she really wanted to, she could have gone into a university, but there she was failing to even finish the most basic of schools. Null begged and brought up how difficult it was for her to handle, how none of the material being covered made sense to her, how she couldn’t focus and every class filled her with dread.

Those were, to her parents, but childish excuses. They brought up how much money Null had wasted by making such a foolish decision, especially one without bringing it up with them first. She told them that she would find a job only to be admonished for making yet another rash decision and they pointed out how difficult it would be to find a good job with her lack of education. She hadn’t thought of that, but at the same time, a job wasn’t what she wanted, either. There wasn’t a job in the world that she could think of that didn’t mortify her.

However that confrontation ended, she couldn’t remember. All she knew was it ended with her bruised and in tears. She sat on her bed, continuing to sob and curse herself for her failure to handle even the most basic of things. Her utter worthlessness while others her age and around her handled everything like normal. The kind of world that she was born into was a world which did not welcome her and was hostile to her at every turn. She wished that her world could come to an end, and to that end, held up a blade to her arm.

Oh, she was ready to give up. After all, she never stood a chance. There were others she once knew as friends who were well aware of her sensitivity. How many of them would wish, time and time again, that she could overcome her issues and work through them. Yet time and time again, she broke down at the slightest challenge. Every little thing that could have struck at her did and brought her further and further into distress. The strongest she could muster was just to live, and it wasn’t a sign of strength, but a fear of death.

Those friends all grew tired of her constant outbursts, and found her too unstable to be around. Communication slowed until it slammed to a halt. For some strange reason, Panache remained. She claimed that she wouldn’t give up on Null, and no matter how much Null wished it to be true, banked on such words and held them up as a plaque to remind herself with, she never believed it. After all, why shouldn’t someone give up on someone who constantly gives up on themselves?

Were we ever close to begin with? Null wondered, head still down on the table, or was that yet another one of my delusions?

“There you are!” Came the high-pitched, excited voice of her friend. Excited? Isn’t that how she usually sounds? Null wondered.

Null lifted her head and saw Panache in her denim jacket alongside her navy blue jeans. Panache happened to have long, silky mulberry hair and many pink freckles on her face. Null didn’t want to focus too long on Panache’s face as she knew she could never hope to compare to her friend’s good looks.

“Hi,” Null greeted in a dull tone. Not with the intention of sounding dejected. It just happened to be how it came out.

“Were you waiting long?” Panache didn’t make note of the dull tone in Null’s voice and just wanted to focus on hanging out.

“No, not at all,” Null began, and she knew she should have left it at that, but her voice continued past the point where she wished to stop speaking, “and even if I had been, I wouldn’t hold it against you if you didn’t want to show up at all. I mean...I’m kind of an unpleasant person to be around, so if you don’t want to be around me, I totally understand.”

Panache scowled, and although she loosened her brow back up, Null managed to take note of it.

“If I didn’t want to show up, I wouldn’t have agreed to come,” Panache said at last. “Now don’t you want to have a good time?”

Null nodded.

“Good. Are you hungry? Have you eaten?”

What should I say? If I say I am, she’ll tell me to eat. If I tell her I don’t have enough, she’ll pay for my meal for me, and I can’t have her do that. It would make me look more pathetic than I already am. But if I say that I’m I’m not hungry, it will be a lie and she might hear my stomach growl. Likewise if I say that I’ve eaten. There really is no winning…

“Um. I am, but nothing here interests me,” Null came up with a quick excuse.

“Oh. I can see that. Mall food can be kinda gross. Do you want to go out somewhere else?” Panache suggested.

“No! Err...I...I’ll eat after we’re done hanging out.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Was it a good idea? Null’s heart thumped and the area around her spun as she grew dizzy and lightheaded. It seemed as though she was moving in place and couldn’t keep still even though she wasn’t moving at all.

“I’ll be fine,” she said without a hint of truth to her words.

“If you say so. But you better promise to eat after this, okay?”

“Yes,” Null squeaked in a rather undignified manner.

They walked through the mall and checked out a few shops. One store in particular caught Panache’s attention and she pointed at it.

“Look, Null! It’s the Keroppi store!” Panache pointed to a store filled with several giant plush toys. Not only did it contain the store’s mascot, a green and beautiful frog, but there were also cats, aliens, eggs, and penguins. Null wanted to get excited, and dreamed many times of being able to take one of those plush toys home. However, that feeling didn’t come and instead, she just said, “yeah.”

“What’s wrong?” Null’s friend asked.

“Oh. I’m just. Overwhelmed. By the amount of plush toys.”

Panache raised an eyebrow. Such a comment was absurd, surely. Yes, Null was a terrified little creature, and had been ever since she first knew Null, but out of all the things to be overwhelmed by, that always seemed like one of the few sources of joy she had. So why didn’t they bring her joy in that moment?

Null may not have known the answer, either.

The two moved on and checked out multiple clothing stores. Nothing seemed to interest her in any of them she passed through and would have rather waited outside, but stuck close to Panache for fear of being out in the open where many strangers could have passed her by. Sticking close, though, also proved to be a dangerous task, as her thoughts zeroed in on the person she tried to call ‘friend’.

She’s forcing herself to be here with me right now, Null caught herself thinking, she didn’t just lose interest. She lost interest a long time ago and has been forcing herself to call me a friend.

After leaving one store, Panache couldn’t take the lack of enthusiasm from Null any longer and the question forced its way out of her mouth:

“Is everything OK?”

She’s going to force me to tell the truth, but if I do, I’ll lose everything. There’s no way I can, Null tried to restrain herself. Still, Panache’s lingering stare caused Null to shake in place and she held her left hand over her right arm, squeezed tight, and her lips quivered, alternating between a smile and a frown.

“Heh...it’s silly,” the words escaped from her mouth, “I just keep having these thoughts and it’s hard to think about anything else. But I mean, I know deep down the thoughts are wrong.”

Stop. Stop. No more, Null begged, but her mouth had other ideas.

“It’s like, I keep thinking, we don’t see each other much any more and we hardly talk. We used to be closer, or at least I thought so, and maybe we weren’t, but if we weren’t, sorry for assuming. It’s just, do you care about me? Sorry. I know you do. Or think you do, maybe you don’t. You probably shouldn’t, and I know it’s selfish for wanting you to, it’s just I feel like you used to care more. But all that’s ridiculous, right? It’s not really true and it’s just my brain being bad. Like, you said you wouldn’t give up on me, so it can’t be true.”

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. Panache opened her mouth, but closed it and paused and took a few more seconds to answer. Not because she had to think things through, but because she already knew the answer.

“Yeah. I think you’re right,” she answered at last and Null’s heart sank while her face tightened up. Despite this, Null tried to let out nervous laughter, but it did her no good.

“Right about it all being ridiculous?”

Panache shook her head.

“Do you know how many times you’ve said such things over the years? It’s not just seeking validation, it’s the fact that you assume that I don’t care time and time again despite me telling you how I do and it really wears on me,” her voice sharpened as it rose, “no, I don’t want to give up, and I’m trying right now. Maybe whatever we’ve had I’ve lost it, but I’m hoping it will come back.”

Maybe it should have been. But hearing her fears confirmed ate at her and no amount of looking at the positive intent was enough to bring her to look away from the present reality.

“So...I was right. It’s true,” Null’s breaths grew heavier as she tried to find something to say, “I thought it was but I was hoping it wasn’t but I should have listened. Just because I don’t want something to be true doesn’t mean it isn’t. You no longer care and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Really? That’s your takeaway? I’m trying here. I want to care, isn’t that enough?” Little ripples bubbled up inside Panache and what at first looked like anger gave way to something else.

“Enough...I don’t know what’s enough…”

“Why not? Why can’t it be enough? I try really hard and I can never live up to your standards, can I?” Tears began to fall out and Panache brushed them aside and tried to keep some semblance of composure, but failed in that regard, “I don’t know how it got this way, but it did. What can I do? Tell me.”

Why are you the one getting hurt over this? Null thought and felt a sick taste of confusion in the back of her throat. What about me? Why do I feel so...nothing?

“I...don’t know. What is there to do?”

Panache eased up, took deep and labored breaths, and stood up straight, also having a look of confusion about her. Then, she tried to force a smile, but the desperation was clear from the moment she opened her mouth.

“I know: we can explore more shops, maybe go to the arcade. There’s a virtual reality booth we can try. There are still things we can do. We can have fun, can’t we?”

Null didn’t answer, but instead thought, why would I want to do any of those things?

“Come on. Even if we don’t have a tomorrow, shouldn’t we try to make our last day a good day?”

Null smiled, but it wasn’t intentional. There was nothing to smile over.

“No. I don’t really want to do that,” Null answered. Her head was getting light, the ceiling around her seemed to grow darker and her vision dim. Whatever Null wanted, it wasn’t there.

Panache balked in total disbelief of Null’s response. What kind of response was that? It wasn’t fearful like usual, nor was it an unusual (perhaps sporadic) bout of confidence. No, it was devoid of anything Panache could make sense of. Should she have kept trying? Should she have walked away as well?

I’m just as much at a loss, Panache thought.

Before Panache could think of any last words, Null turned and began to sway and shamble away. Her once-friend looked in a daze but that hollow response she had been given still rang through her head.

“Tell me,” Panache cleared her throat. It sounded angry, but there was no bite. In truth, that too was a form of desperation. A counterproductive form, “what about you? Did you ever care about me? Or was I just something for you to latch yourself onto?”

Null turned, and that same wry smile remained on her face. It still shocked Panache to see, and the parting words brought with it no peace.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” Null’s words were weary and her mouth dry, yet she still spoke with such clarity that it frightened both former-friends.

Everyone’s heads clouded up with worry and their hearts rumbled as if to signal a thunderstorm; it wasn’t unique to those two or any other two people that day. For a minute, as Null exited the mall, she noticed how insignificant such an issue she had was, and how there were people who must have lost loved ones that day to things far more tragic. Compared to the world as a whole and every single person’s problems, she really was nothing.

That realization further cemented the nothing that she felt. If nothing else had fit her before, that feeling fit her so well.

When she pushed herself out of the door, she almost fell onto the pavement. At that moment, she wouldn’t have minded such a thing, and that it didn’t happen disappointed her a great deal. Her left hand was still held tight to her right arm. Nothing about her was injured, yet she shoved herself into the outer wall of the mall and straggled along as if she had just walked through a great battlefield and had been the only survivor.

“Haa...why can’t I…?” She winced and gasped. Nothing but a burning and aching feeling.

The day can still be salvaged, she reminded herself. She still had those coins. She could get something at the convenience store. Maybe a fruit bar. Whatever she got would help and the item itself didn’t matter. Just the fact that it would be something with sugar, something to ease the aching which refused to cease.

She stumbled along the sidewalk in dizzying motions. For a moment, she let go of her arm and brought the hood back over her head. As she did so, someone walking by bumped into her and knocked her into the busy street. It was such a swift motion that she had no time to prepare and she almost fell in front of a black sports car until its tires screeched as the one behind the wheel slammed on the brakes. She smelled the burnt rubber, the wind against her back, and she was so close to the steel behind her.

The man who bumped into her with his short, brown hair and Donegal tweed sport coat grabbed her right arm and pulled her up. His grip was tight and dug into her skin. She was so sure that with the pressure, all the blood would drain out of her.

“Sorry about that. Are you all right?” He asked and she didn’t even take note of his face. In a panic, she yelled:

“GET OFF OF ME!” And struggled free before running off. She shoved past several people as she ran, everyone soon becoming more of a blur than they already were. When she came close to a convenient store, she halted in her tracks and approached the door. While doing so, she reached into her hoodie’s pockets, only to find the coins gone.

“No. No,” she panicked, and checked her pants pockets as well. But they weren’t there.

She hadn’t noticed, but when she almost fell into traffic, the coins fell out before she got the chance to. The possibility dawned on her, although she didn’t rule out someone stealing them, either. The truth didn’t matter so much to her, as the fact remained that her money was gone. The tiny amount she had and now she was without that as well. Again, she searched, even though she knew she wouldn’t find them. “No. I have to have something. Anything.”

At last, the tears formed, and as soon as they did, she ran again. To where, she didn’t know. Anywhere. Nowhere. It didn’t matter, did it? It was all over.

Her phone vibrated. Was it her parents to tell her off again? Or was it some kind of spam message? Either was possible and neither would have helped. Despite knowing there was no hope of seeing a good message, she pulled her phone out and saw that it was a message from Panache.

Of course. Just what I didn’t account for.

“I hope you’re going to be okay,” her message read.

Why the hell are you still trying to talk to me? Null flared up. Anger wasn’t new for her, but it was rare, and it always disgusted her. Such a feeling was a hurtful one and hurt was the last thing she wanted to do to others.

“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to disappear,” Null replied. She knew that she shouldn’t have. But it was the only thing she could think to say.

“Please don’t hurt yourself,” came the next message, which shouldn’t have come at all. It was too fast. Too unnecessary.

Null, who should have deleted the message, instead found herself walking into a small alleyway. Seeing that message enraged her further.

“Really? What do you mean? As if I was even going to do that, but so what if I hurt myself? Am I not even allowed that? Everyone else is allowed to hurt me but when I try to do it to myself, it’s wrong? Is that it?” She ranted and paced about in that alleyway, “and what do you care, anyway? It’s not like we’re friends. All I’ve got is myself, so why can’t I do to myself whatever I want?”

She grabbed her phone in her palm and slammed it into the wall as hard as she could. Then, all the rage that was in her passed over and gave way to her old state: both hands over her mouth, she watched as her phone smashed to pieces on the ground.

“No. That phone was expensive. My parents paid for it. When they find out, they’re going to…” Null stopped herself. There was something important she was leaving out, though it didn’t need to be said. Instead, she collapsed on the ground in the alleyway. She held tight to her black slacks against her knees and tears spilled out from her.

“Of course. Of course it had to happen. I lost my last friend. I lost the only change I had. My phone broke. Of course,” she wept.

She leaned up against a dumpster opposite the wall her smashed phone lay beside. It was the only support she had. Maybe the only support she needed.

“Where am I going to go now?” She asked, but the only place that came to mind was her parent’s apartment. The exact place she knew that she couldn’t come back to.

Her eyelids grew heavier and she began to nod off. She traced her index finger against the grimy surface of the ground. When she saw something small scurry past her, her eyes opened wide and she fell back. Her heart pounded but she couldn’t help but look for what brushed past her hand. When she saw it, cold sweat washed over her: what ran across the ground from under the dumpster was a lone mouse, one who was in search of shelter. No matter how innocent the sight, she was in far too much shock to reason and all of her thoughts washed over her as sleep took control.