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ambrossart · 1 year

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PAPER MEN

— CHAPTER 28

SUMMARY: All Evelyn Tozier wanted to do was make Derry High School a safer place for her kid brother. Well, somewhere between kissing Patrick Hockstetter and telling the principal to go f*** himself, things got a little off track. Now she’s stuck in the middle of a bizarre love triangle with two of Derry’s most troubled teens while her little brother and his friends hunt down a creepy, child-eating circus clown. This year, summer can’t come fast enough. PAIRINGS: Henry Bowers x Tozier!Sister; Patrick Hockstetter x Tozier!Sister WARNINGS: violence, profanity, sexual content, bullying, sexual assault, physical abuse, emotional abuse, all kinds of abuse, trauma, mental illness, implied/referenced self-harm, child death, angst, lots of angst, recreational drug use, underage drinking, underage sex, love triangles, toxic relationships, slow burn, slow build

WORD COUNT: 11,533

MASTERPOST

MASTERLIST

"See? Bitch!"

Christie's words sailed down the hallway and struck Evelyn on the back of the head, making her stop mid-stride. A gasp gathered in her chest as the hallway seemed to close in around her. Student faces blurred together. Sounds became muffled, all but the thunderous beating of her heart. I wasn't being a bitch, Evelyn thought, unaware of the students who gave her curious glances as they passed. I said hi, didn't I? What more do you want from me? Should I have gone up to you and shaken your hand? Said, "Oh my god, congratulations, I'm so thrilled for you two"? Because I am, I really am, I just...

(Bitch!)

Guilt and shame mixed uneasily in Evelyn's stomach. It made her feel nauseous. Made her want to walk back over to them and apologize profusely like an embarrassed little girl at a grown-up's dinner party. Oh please, oh please, don't be mad! I'm sorry if I came off a little rude earlier. I'm just having a bad day, that's all. Please don't take it personally, Christie. Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top? I'd really like for us to be friends.

Yes.

Friends.

That's what I do. I make nice. I make friends. I make lemonade from lemons and turn rain clouds into rainbows.

Well, I'm not in the mood for rainbows, Evelyn thought, and kept walking. Anger simmered inside her stomach now, and she made no effort to cool it down. I have enough lemonade, I have enough friends, and I'm not gonna apologize to Christie Gibson! Why should I? I didn't do anything wrong! She's the one who bombarded me in the hallway, smelling like Vic's bedroom, casually tossing around Mrs. Criss's first name like they're best friends. I've known Mrs. Criss my whole life, and she'd never let me call her 'Tabby'... not that I've ever really asked...

Sarah Tolleson, Evelyn's locker neighbor, said bye to Evelyn as she walked by. Evelyn, distracted as she was, said nothing back.

"Bitch," Sarah muttered under her breath. "Well, fuck you too, then."

Evelyn opened her locker, hung her backpack on the hook, and absentmindedly began gathering her textbooks one by one: English, psychology, world history...

So Christie wants to talk about Vic, huh? What could she possibly have to say to me about Vic? What, does she need gift ideas for Christmas? Buy him a bong or something, I don't know... Evelyn shoved her biology book into her bag and paused for a moment, lost in thought. She returned in a near-daze and, forgetting herself, pulled out the same book and put it back on the shelf. Oh, then she calls out to me in the hallway while she's with him, so I'd have to SEE them together. What the hell was that about, huh? Did she wanna gloat over her victory? Was she trying to get me to admit I'm jealous? Okay, fine, I'm jealous. I'm very, very jealous!

All Evelyn ever got from Victor Criss was cold distance and doors slammed in her face. Secret notes. Broken promises. He'd draw her in and then push her way. Get her hopes up only to smash them to itty bitty pieces. No matter how hard she tried, he refused to let her get close to him. And now, after wasting ten years of her life, she had to accept that this was as close as she was ever going to get: this friendship with a little asterisk next to it. They were friends, sure, but only when no one else was around. It wasn't fair.

Vic was with her—in front of everybody, and he didn't even seem embarrassed by it. How could he do that with her but not with me?

Probably for the same reason Christie Gibson won the student council vote.

Because Christie was cool and Evelyn wasn't. Christie listened to rock music, dyed her hair fun colors, and had a butterfly tattoo on her lower back. Evelyn wore knit sweaters and could hardly name a current song on the radio (she listened to Olivia Newton-John from time to time, but nobody would be very impressed by that). Yeah, Christie Gibson was the fun, laid-back rocker chick. She probably spent her nights going to parties and concerts. Evelyn, meanwhile, spent her nights studying and doing arts and crafts on her bedroom floor... making dozens of paper flowers for a sign that nobody cared about.

You know you're quite the artist.

Isn't that what Patrick Hockstetter had said? Yeah, he had. Last night, he was mesmerized by a tiny white daisy. It was such an insignificant little thing, yet he stared at it like it was something special, like Evelyn had somehow made a realdaisy bloom in the palm of her hand. It seemed strange for her to be thinking of that now.

Stranger still was the smile that came to her face when she did.

But then Evelyn thought of that shapeless violet, purple as the fading bruise on her neck, and her smile instantly vanished. She pushed the thought away and started unloading her backpack again.

Everyone thinks I'm annoying. Just Little Miss Busybody. I'm not cool like Christie Gibson. I'm not sexy like Manda Bosch. I'm just... just—

A long, slender finger poked Evelyn's shoulder twice, jolting her from her thoughts. She jumped away from it, startled. Her stack of books went leaning, leaning... leaning way too far! A dreadful moan sounded in her throat. She tried to correct the lean, failed, and clutched the two bottommost books to her chest while the rest went tumbling to the floor. Her disheartened sigh crashed against a boy's cry of panic:

"Oh, great," Evelyn said.

"Oh, God!" said the boy.

They dropped to their knees at the same time, hands bumping as they reached for Evelyn's psychology book. The boy made a whimpering noise and recoiled from her with a snap of his wrist. Evelyn followed his fleeing hand and saw it bury itself in a small nest of copper-red curls.

"I'm so sorry, Evelyn! I don't know what I was thinking, sneaking up on you like that. My mom always gets mad at me when I creep up on her in the kitchen, but I just can't help it. See, I used to make too much noise when I walked, and she would yell at me to stop dragging my feet, so I overcorrected and now I make too little noise. I didn't think that was possible, but someone how I managed. God, I'm so hopeless."

Evelyn blinked her eyes in disbelief. Soft blue eyes blinked back at her.

"Denny!"

Denny Booker responded with a frog-like croak, as if surprised by his own name. "Oh, uh... hi."

Overjoyed, Evelyn put down her books and wrapped her arms around Denny's scrawny shoulders, hugging him tightly just as she had in his kitchen the Wednesday before. Denny's face flushed with heat. As soon as their bodies made contact, his back went rigid as a plank and his skinny arms flattened against his sides.

"Sorry," Denny said once they parted. "I'm really bad at hugs, especially with, with girls. I just don't... see, I don't really know where to put my hands, if that makes sense. I'm always worried I'm gonna touch something I'm not supposed to."

Like what? Evelyn almost asked, bewildered, but she figured that would've only embarrassed him more.

Instead, she said, "It's fine, Denny. I'm just glad you're back. You are back, right?"

She stood, brushing loose specks of dirt off her stockings. Denny got up, too. He wore his backpack with both straps and kept fidgeting with the loose ends.

"Yeah... well, kinda. I just came today to drop off my homework assignments. Tomorrow's my first real day back. Oh, here, your books."

Denny bent down, picked up Evelyn's scattered books, and handed them to her with a sweet, unaffected smile. Evelyn thanked him sincerely and put them away in her locker.

"So—" Evelyn began.

"Hey, it's the Book Man!"

They spotted Scott Kellerman at the other end of the hallway. He had been strolling through the freshmen locker area, thinking of fun, creative ways to kill a couple minutes. Now he was jogging toward them. Smiling, of course. Scott Kellerman was always smiling. He stopped briefly to give another one of his friends a high five. "Toodles, my good dude," Scott said to him. Then he rushed over to Denny and tackled him with a giant bear hug.

"What's up, buddy?" Grinning, Scott slapped his hands onto Denny's shoulders and gave him a brain-rattling shake that made Evelyn cringe and think, Oh, poor Denny. "Look at you, all rosy-cheeked and gorgeous! How you doin', man?"

"I'm, I'm good," Denny replied. "Hap-happy to be back."

"Shit, dude, you had us all freaked out in homeroom. People thought you were dying or something. As for me, I was getting ready to start sending around the ole donation jar like we did for J-Bird that one time. You remember that? 'Help, my brother needs a new kidney!' Nobody donated, though. Bummer. I guess they don't care about pot-bellied pigs in this town, not even a cute one like J-Bird."

"Oh..." Denny frowned. "Well, I'm sorry for scaring everyone."

Scott just laughed his usual carefree laugh. "Hey, no worries, dude. We're just glad to have you back. Wait, you are back, right?"

Denny nodded. "Tomorrow. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Sweetness!" Scott said, and laughed again. "Well, hey, I gotta go, man. Got a client waiting for me." He backed away from them while humming an upbeat tune he made up on the spot. "Adios, mis amigos. That's Spanish, if you didn't already know. My teacher taught it to me today. That's right, my dudes, I'm one step closer to being bilingual, baby!" He fired off two gunshots with his fingers before disappearing around the corner.

A moment of silence passed. Then Evelyn turned to Denny and said, "Did he just say he's meeting a client?"

"Oh right, yeah... Skelly's got a little side business."

"A side business? Wow!" Imagine that, Scott Kellerman was a fifteen-year-old entrepreneur. Evelyn was very impressed, and a little confused. "So does he, like, make stuff?"

"More like grows it."

To clarify what he meant, Denny pressed his thumb and index finger together and touched them briefly to his lips. Miss Quaver, the home economics teacher, came strutting out of her classroom. Denny panicked and pretended to have an itch on his face.

"Hello, children," Miss Quaver said to them with a smile. "Nice to see you back, Denny."

"Hi, Miss Quaver," Denny said, a faint blush tickling his cheeks.

When she was gone, he and Evelyn collapsed into a fit of giggles that left Evelyn in tears and Denny hacking up phlegm. This made Denny terribly embarrassed. He wiped his mouth with his sweater sleeve and apologized. Evelyn, who had been snorting like a pig, told him not to worry about it.

"Wow," she said afterward, while dabbing her eyes dry, "Skelly's a pot dealer. How did I not figure that out sooner?"

Denny cleared his throat one more time. "You're just wonderfully naive, I guess."

They shared another chuckle over that. Evelyn's shoulders bounced as she laughed. Denny, more careful this time, kept his hand cupped shyly over his mouth.

Then he said, "So, wait, why was Skelly dressed like a surfer?"

"Oh, because it's Groovy Monday," Evelyn told him. "Skelly's a Beach Boy. He had a surfboard, but he accidentally smacked Principal Hellyer with it, so it got taken away."

"Right," Denny said, unsurprised. "Yeah, I guess that explains your outfit, too."

"Yeah..."

Evelyn tucked her chin into her chest and shuffled back a step, wincing as she felt that familiar sting of self-consciousness. Oh, why had Denny returned to school on Decade Day of all days? If he had waited until tomorrow, he would have seen Evelyn dressed in comfy cotton pajamas instead of this hideously short dress that, apparently, made her look like a damn streetwalker. She braced herself for another searing hot stare, but from Denny Booker, all she felt was the most genuine warmth. His blue eyes were clear and kind.

"You look really nice," he said, and that was all. "Oh, I have your biology notes!"

He shrugged out of his backpack's right shoulder strap and pulled Evelyn's notebook out of the main zipper compartment. "You take really good notes," he said before handing it to her.

Evelyn flashed a modest smile. "Well, I do pride myself on my note-taking. Last year, I got these totally awesome gel pens that completely changed the way I..."

(It's a pen, Evelyn)

Her expression darkened. "Never mind," she said under her breath. Last year didn't matter anymore. "Anyway, I'm glad you found them useful."

She put her notebook away. When she turned back, Denny was rubbing the back of his neck and frowning.

"Hey," he went on quietly, "I want to apologize for the way I acted when you came to visit me last week. I'm honestly really embarrassed about the whole thing. You probably thought I was having a total meltdown or something."

Evelyn shook her head. "No, I didn't think that at all. And you don't have to apologize, Denny, not for any of it. You were going through a lot that day."

Denny gave a doubtful but grateful smile. "I found my dog, by the way."

"Really? That's great!"

"Yeah, we got a call from one of our neighbors this morning. He said Mandy Fazio found her sniffing around the junkyard last night and was wondering who she belonged to. I have no idea what she was doing all the way over there, but we took her to the vet, and she's perfectly fine, so... I dunno, I guess it was just one of those strange coincidences, just like you said."

"Yeah," Evelyn said.

A strange coincidence, indeed.

I questioned Patrick about this last night. Now, all of a sudden—

Denny's face paled, and he drew back with fright. "Uhh... I have to go now."

"Huh? Why, Denny? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just, uhh..." Denny dragged his fingers through his curls. His hairline was damp with sweat, Evelyn saw, and now it was trickling down his forehead. "I just remembered that I need to pick up something from the office, and I... I need to head over there before, you know, before they close for the day. See you tomorrow, Evelyn."

He staggered backward, spun around, and sped off down the hallway... in the opposite direction of the office.

Weird, Evelyn thought, her chest tight with worry. I hope he'll be okay to return tomorrow.

She stared down the hallway for a moment longer, wondering what unseen terror had set Denny off this time. Her answer came in the form of slow, plodding footsteps. She turned around and saw Patrick Hockstetter walking up to her with a lazy, swaying stride.

"What's his problem?" he asked, seemingly unaware.

Seemingly.

Evelyn's eyes sharpened into a suspicious glare.

"What?" Patrick said, blinking at her with that same dumb, oblivious expression. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a wide, open-mouthed grin. "Wait, was that...?"

"Oh, stop it already, Patrick. As if you don't know."

He tossed his head to the side. "What was his name again?"

"You know his name, Patrick. I refuse to believe you have no idea who your fellow classmates are."

This was all just an act, and a bad one at that.

She grabbed her biology book, put it in her bag, and left it there this time. That's right, Evelyn finally had her head screwed on properly again. She wasn't floating through space or wading through a deep sea of sad thoughts. She was here, grounded firmly in reality... and keenly aware of how close Patrick had gotten. His warm breath fanned the side of her face.

"Believe what you want," Patrick said, "but as far as I'm concerned, you and I are the only two people in this school."

Evelyn turned to meet his empty, probing stare. When she did, a chill ran up her spine. Looking into Patrick's eyes was kind of like staring into a void. It was like leaning over the side of a ship and gazing into the deep, dark ocean below. Your survival instincts tell you to step back from the edge and walk away, but before you do, a small part of you wonders, What if I jumped?

Evelyn was hearing that voice now, tempting and frightening all at the same time. She pulled away from it, away from him, and said, "No offense, Patrick, but that sounds kinda like a nightmare."

"Really?" he said. "I think it sounds pretty nice."

His eyes told her he wasn't kidding. But he had to be, didn't he?

Another shiver rolled through her. Evelyn put the question behind her and finished packing up her homework.

"So," Patrick went on, leaning against the locker beside her, "did he finally find his dog?"

Evelyn's eyes sharpened again. Strange coincidence, my ass.

"Oh my god!" she said.

"What?" Patrick asked, looking at her with genuine surprise.

No.

Seemingly genuine.

Evelyn jabbed at his chest with an accusing finger. "Oh, you... you are so transparent!"

"What? I'm just making conversation."

"Yeah, sure you are, Patrick."

"I am," he insisted. Then his eyes flattened. "Wait a second, you still think I took that dog, don't you? Listen, Evelyn, before last night I didn't even know who that kid was, okay? I mean, jeez... you torture a few puppies and you're branded a dog killer for the rest of your life. Where's the justice in that?"

"Yes, Patrick, you're the true victim in all of this."

"Whatever," he said. "I'm sick of talking about this. Anyway, what are you doing after school?"

Evelyn gave him a tired look.

"What?" Patrick said. "We're friends, right? Friends hang out after school."

"Don't you have detention?"

"In theory," Patrick answered, "but realistically, it wouldn't be too hard for me to slip away for a few minutes... you know, if you wanted to find an empty classroom and let me fool around under that cute little skirt of yours." He eyed it with a lustful smirk, then started teasing the hem with his fingers. "By the way, have I told you how much I like this outfit? You should dress like this more often."

And with that, down went the judge's gavel.

It's official: I'm dressed like a whore.

"The stockings kinda ruin it, though," Patrick finished, observing them with a frown. Shamelessly, he tried to sneak a peek under her skirt. Evelyn swatted his hand away without looking.

"It was forty degrees out this morning, Patrick."

"Is that cold?" he asked, but he didn't wait for Evelyn's answer. "So you wanna hang out or not?"

"Can't. I'm grading quizzes for Mrs. Lafferty."

It was part of Henry's plea deal. In exchange for Mrs. Lafferty's support, Evelyn agreed to grade her quizzes for the rest of the semester. And how did Henry pay her back? The only way he knew how: with cruelty and malice. No good deed goes unpunished, right?

"Oh?" Patrick said, sounding very intrigued. "And will you be alone while you're grading these quizzes?"

"No, Mrs. Lafferty will be there. She has a student staying late to take a quiz."

"Well, I don't mind an audience... although it might make you a little uncomfortable."

Evelyn heaved a loud, frustrated sigh. "Okay, I'm leaving now," she said, and closed her locker. When she tried to walk away, Patrick gently grabbed her wrist.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he said, chuckling. "What are you doing on Friday night?"

"Friday's the homecoming game, Patrick."

"Okay, that means nothing to me... but I'm assuming you're going?"

"Yes, Patrick, everyone's going."

"Oh, everyone's going, huh?" His grey-green eyes gleamed. "So if I go, I'll probably see you there."

"Probably."

"Cool." Patrick smiled, very pleased. "We can hang out then."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Patrick."

Evelyn pulled her hand out of his grasp. Patrick frowned as he watched it slip away.

"Why?" he asked in a sullen voice. "You ashamed to be seen with me at a school event? Afraid of what your friends in the student council will think? What Jake Newham will think?"

"Of course not," Evelyn said, but she realized that was a lie. She was ashamed to be seen with Patrick, deeply ashamed, and now she felt like a total hypocrite.

Evelyn grunted low in her throat, regretting this decision with every fiber of her being. "Okay, fine, we can hang out at the homecoming game, but—" She raised her finger and spoke in her stern babysitter voice, the one she pulled out when a stubborn child refused to obey her. So far, she had only used it once: when Max Kenton wouldn't stop pulling his sister's hair, that little shit. "Don't ever interrupt my lunch meetings again, Patrick. Okay? I use those meetings to conduct very important business. The last thing I need is you feeling me up under the table."

"I thought that was a bug," Patrick said with a cheeky little smirk. Evelyn put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows, another trick from the babysitter's handbook. Patrick threw his head back and let out a disgruntled moan. "Okay, fine, I won't bother you at lunch anymore."

"Thank you." Evelyn smiled, pivoted on her heel, and walked away with a confident strut. Halfway down the hall, she stopped. "Oh, and I'm reenacting the 'No Touch' rule."

Patrick's jaw clenched. "What?"

"We're friends, right?" Evelyn wore a charming yet taunting smile. "Friends don't touch each other like that."

"Well, maybe not your friends," Patrick said, but ultimately he gave in. "All right, Evelyn, you win, but the same clause applies as before. Fair enough?"

Evelyn pressed her lips together tightly, holding in a laugh. "Sure, Patrick. When I beg you to touch me, feel free to go crazy." She released the laugh once her back was turned. It burst out of her in a series of giggles that rang throughout the hallway like the delightful tinkling of bells.

Patrick listened to it, smiling. "I plan to," he said to himself. Then, before she got too far: "Oh, Evelyn, just one more thing."

She turned around, still giggling. "Hm?"

"I love how you said 'when' and not 'if.'"

Evelyn's laughter caught in her throat, almost choked her.

Patrick's smile grew. "See you tomorrow, Evelyn." He backed away, slipped around the corner, and was gone.

Evelyn stood paralyzed, speechless, her face getting redder and hotter by the second. "That's just... semantics!" she declared, her arms flopping helplessly at her sides.

God dammit, she thought. How the hell does he do that?

It's because he's so attractive, that's what it is. Puberty screwed me over real good, but it gave him a massive growth spurt that turned him into a fricken Adonis. How is that fair? I get a flat chest, no hips, and Patrick gets the chiseled bone structure of a male model. Okay, I'm exaggerating. He's not that good-looking... No, actually he is that good-looking, and it's really unfortunate. If he looked like he did in elementary school, I wouldn't be in this predicament. He's vile and repulsive, but then he smiles and acts so weirdly charming. Oh my god, I hate that I just used the word "charming." But he is. He's grotesquely charming, if that's even a thing. Like most of the time I wanna slap him in the face for the shit he says, but other times, I wanna grab him and...

No.

Wait.

Oh my god, he's doing it again!

Last night, he confessed to murdering cute, fluffy puppies—and I love puppies!—but I'm not even thinking about that right now. No, I'm too busy thinking about his hand under my skirt. I swear to God, if he ever tries something like that again, I'm gonna punch him in the face. Right in the middle of the lunch room, too. Who does that? A sexual deviant, for one. That was practically assault! But I have to smile and go along with it. I have to give him what he wants; otherwise, this torture will never end.

Problem is, I have no idea what he wants. It's not sex, that's for sure. No, he's just using that to distract me... but from what?

Her steps slowed in the middle of the hallway. While contemplating Patrick's motives, Evelyn was fiddling with her right pinky: tracing over it with her thumbnail, bending it, squeezing it until the tip turned reddish purple. Down the hall was Mrs. Lafferty's classroom. The door was propped open, waiting for her to go inside. All right, that's enough now, Evie. She snapped out of her daze, picked up the pace and

"Bye, Manda!"

"See you tomorrow!"

froze as a senior brushed past her right shoulder.

"Whoops, sorry," the girl said, and Evelyn got a big whiff of her spicy, exotic Yves Saint Laurent perfume. It was a woman's fragrance, strong and intimidating, and it masked the soft, sweet, candy-like scent of Evelyn's drugstore perfume. The smell overwhelmed her for a second. Made her nose wrinkle in a silly, childish way. She recovered quickly and spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of the girl's long, thick fishtail braid as she went around the corner. Wrapped around the tail end, winking in the light, was a metallic silver scrunchie.

Evelyn's breath hitched. "That's..." and her feet moved on their own.

Inside the senior locker area, Manda Bosch was humming U2's "With or Without You" while she strolled toward her locker with her books cradled in her arms. The heels of her boots thumped against the tile. Her wide, womanly hips swayed sensually inside a pair of high-waisted, loose-fitting jeans. A black long-sleeve shirt, which she wore tucked, hugged her upper body like a second skin, showing off her ample curves.

Evelyn, who had no curves, was sick with envy. She crossed her arms over her small breasts, feeling unsexy and unfeminine, and thought, If I looked like that, then maybe...

No.

She inhaled sharply, her brown eyes glazed with panic and fear.

No, I shouldn't be here. This was a mistake! Why did I think seeing her would make this any easier? I was having a hard enough time accepting that Henry had sex with someone else, and now that "someone else" has a name and a body and... and I don't think I can handle seeing her face right now. If I see her face, then it becomes real and

A single tear rolled down her cheek, her lips, her chin.

I should go, she told herself, and stepped back. Mrs. Lafferty's waiting for me. I promised I'd grade her quizzes and...

She took one step forward, then another.

Manda Bosch was standing in front of her open locker now, still humming, occasionally singing under her breath: "With or without you… With or without you, oh..." The inside of her locker was decorated with pictures of her friends, her family, and her longtime boyfriend, Matt Aikman, a freshman at USM. Manda was pulling books off the shelf and putting them away in her backpack. While she did this, Evelyn couldn't stop staring at her hands. Manda Bosch had these long, red, perfectly pointed fingernails, and they had cut Henry's face.

At first, the sight of them filled Evelyn with intense, overprotective rage. She wanted to storm up to her and say, "How dare you put your hands on him?" But that feeling passed so quickly. It was there one minute, burning her from the inside, and the next it was gone. It had cooled and hardened into a giant lump that sat in the pit of her stomach, and now a cruel voice was whispering,

What else did she do with those hands?

No, Evelyn didn't want to think about that, not now, not ever, but her mind started conjuring up images on its own. Casting them onto a giant silver screen. Manda Bosch running her hands through Henry's dirty blond hair. Brushing the side of his face with her fingertips. Slipping her hands underneath his shirt and touching him lightly, caressing his stomach, his chest, sliding around to feel the strong muscles of his back.

Evelyn watched the whole film from beginning to end, unable to look away. She was trapped in the middle of a crowded auditorium, strapped to a cushioned red velvet chair, unaware of the surprise waiting for her. It was Friday night at the Aladdin, and everyone in the audience was being treated to a special double feature. Two films. One night only. Buy your tickets in advance, folks, because this is one event you don't wanna miss! The first picture was one of the year's most-anticipated blockbusters, and the next one, well... that one was a classic. Yeah, even an out-of-touch workaholic like Evelyn would recognize that title. In fact, was one of her favorite films. She watched it every night.

In her bedroom.

Alone.

While she sadly traced over the wrinkles in her floral quilt.

Excited applause sprang up around her. Then the lights dimmed and the opening credits began to roll. As soon as the first name appeared on screen, Evelyn's stomach churned with dread. No, she couldn't bear to sit through this movie again. Not again. Not ever again. She got up and fought her way to the aisle, trampling women's purses, tripping over outstretched legs. All the moviegoers lashed out angrily: Get down! Get down, you're blocking the screen! I paid good money to see this flick! She ducked as a box of popcorn came flying at her. It went over her shoulder and exploded against the screen like a spray of fireworks, but Evelyn did not look. No, she would not look. She put her head down and kept moving, eyes closed to the intimate scene that was playing in front of everyone, ears shut to the men who whooped and wolf-whistled, the women who voiced quiet murmurs of disgust. Blind and deaf to it all, she stumbled into the aisle and went running for the exit.

Mr. Foxworth smiled as she passed, his eyes glowing eerily in the light. Don't you wanna see the ending? he said. The ending's the best part.

Evelyn turned back to look at him, her expression a mixture of shock and horror, and then she saw...

("Hey, you okay?")

saw the screen flickering, stuck on a single image. It burned away as a hand reached out from the darkness and landed on her shoulder.

("Hey... Hey!")

"Hey, space cadet!"

Evelyn emerged from her thoughts groggily, blinking. It was Manda Bosch, staring at her with dark chocolate brown eyes, the kind of eyes a boy could get lost in... Henry probably had, too.

(What else did she do with those hands?)

Evelyn flinched with sudden awareness. She looked down at her shoulder, saw the girl's hand, and wrenched away from it. Warily, Manda Bosch withdrew her hand and apologized. There was a small wrinkle between her perfectly shaped brows now. Her lips, red and full, had gathered into a concerned pout that somehow made her even more beautiful.

Did he let you kiss him? Evelyn wondered, devastated.

"Do you need something?" Manda asked, tilting her head. Her voice was melodious and sweet despite her confusion, much sweeter than Evelyn expected.

"Uhh... no," Evelyn said. She drew back a step and crossed her arms in front of her. "Sorry..."

Manda smiled awkwardly. Even that was pretty. "Okay, well... take it easy, okay?"

She made a vague gesture with her hand, circled around Evelyn's right, and started humming again as she walked toward the senior exit. Evelyn cupped her elbows with her palms and withdrew into herself, feeling more like a child than ever. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home, bury herself under the covers, and forget this day ever happened.

But then she heard Manda's voice again

"Hey," she said, leaning away from the door, "cute dress, by the way."

and that was more than she could take.

Smiling to herself, Manda pushed on the door and walked out. While she strolled through the senior parking lot and swung her keys, while she drove home and sang along to her favorite song on the radio, Evelyn collapsed onto the senior couch, dropped her head into her hands, and sobbed.

"Well, that test sucked."

"Yeah, I hate when they sneak in an extra essay question at the end. What kinda sick, sadistic shit is that? Like I'm stressed out enough, thank you very much, and now you expect me to write a perfectly structured, five-paragraph response to your vaguely worded question? Fuck off with that bullshit. In conclusion, you're a crazy Nazi bitch and your class sucks!"

"Whoa, did you seriously write that? 'Cause you would totally be my hero if you did."

"God, I wish I did... I swear, every time I see that woman, I just wanna—Evelyn!"

Evelyn dried her eyes as Elizabeth Mueller entered the senior locker area with Desiree Van Blair and Peter Gordon.

Unlike most of the upperclassmen, Liz and Des had actually dressed up for spirit week. They figured, what the hell, right? It was their senior year and they wanted to have some fun before they graduated. Today, Liz was wearing a Twiggy-inspired green shift dress with an exaggerated collar, black fishnet tights, and a pair of Mary Janes. Des was wearing her Halloween costume from last year. She went as Holly Golightly from the 1961 romantic comedy Breakfast at Tiffany's, and she got really annoyed when the other students didn't understand the reference. "God, this town's a cultural wasteland. It's like living in the Bermuda Triangle or something. Nobody knows how to dress and everyone sucks."

Liz was currently gushing over Evelyn's outfit. She took the girl's hands and pulled her up from the couch to get a better look at her.

"Oh my god, you look absolutely perfect!" she said, squeezing Evelyn's face between her palms. Close as they were, it was obvious that Evelyn had been crying, but Liz was gracious enough to keep this knowledge to herself. She wiped away the last streak of wetness with her thumb and smiled. "You're the most precious thing I've ever seen in my life."

Evelyn smiled back timidly. "You don't think I look slutty?"

Liz gasped, outraged. "Oh, what bitch said that? Was it Jackie? 'Cause that sounds exactly like something Jackie would say."

Desiree spoke up from the couch. She was sitting on the arm and pretending to smoke from her long black cigarette holder. "Oh my god, Liz, did you see what she was wearing today? She thinks she's Jackie O."

Liz rolled her eyes. "More like Jackie O, could you be more fucking obnoxious? Wait, was that mean?"

"A little, but who cares? It was funny."

The girls tittered like wicked stepsisters and, for a moment, appeared every bit as mean as Greta Bowie and Liz's little sister, Sally. Evelyn stood between them, feeling uncomfortable, feeling like maybe it was time to leave. Liz noticed this and her face flushed with shame.

"Oh shit," she said. "Dammit, Des, we can't keep falling back into old habits like this! I don't wanna go to college with any negativity. I may not like Jackie personally, but that's no reason to cut her down for her unfortunate fashion choices... even though she's a fucking bitch and deserves it." Liz took a deep breath and carried on with a smile. "Anyway, come sit for a minute, Evelyn. Let's talk."

Evelyn's eyes drifted toward the hallway. "Oh, but I really should get going."

Mrs. Lafferty was already expecting her, and...

"Just for a minute," Liz said, and led her back to the couch. Evelyn followed the older girl obediently. They sat side by side, knee to knee. Liz laid her hands neatly on her lap and smiled prettily at her. "So, how's the situation?"

"The situation?"

"She means Hockstetter," Des explained bluntly, while Peter Gordon went to his locker and pretended not to listen. Evelyn suspected he was listening, though, because he kept peeking over his shoulder every now and then. This made Evelyn feel a little uneasy. She didn't want to talk about this around so many people. In fact, she didn't want to talk about it at all. Not with Liz. Not with anybody. She didn't think they would understand.

"We saw that stunt he pulled at lunch today," Des was saying now. "That was bold, even for him."

"Yeah," Liz agreed, "and we just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Oh, I'm fine," Evelyn said, more abruptly than she'd intended. "Yeah, I've got the situation totally under control."

Liz's made-up doe eyes widened in surprise. "Oh..." she began in a chaste whisper, a faint blush warming her face. As her voice trailed off, her gaze fell slowly, softly, and landed gently as a feather upon Evelyn's neck. "Oh..." Liz said again. Her hand went to her mouth and her blush deepened.

By now, the hickey had faded enough that Evelyn could cover it pretty easily with makeup... or so she thought. Concealed or not, a well-trained eye could probably spot it with little effort. Desiree, who had already established herself as an expert on the subject, lowered her oversized sunglasses and peered down at her.

"Wow," she said with an impressed smirk. "Yeah, I'd say she definitely has it under control, Liz. Good girl. You ride that crazy train."

Liz swatted her friend away like a buzzing fly. Evelyn quickly covered up the mark with her hair.

"It's not what it looks like," she said. "Patrick just—"

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself," Liz said with false sincerity. Evelyn would have thought it was genuine, but the shrewdness in her eyes gave it away. "We're not judging you or anything."

"Really?" Evelyn said. "Because it kinda seems like you are."

Her tone was sharp, and rightfully so.

"I don't know what you all expect me to do. Everyone keeps judging me for what I do or don't do with Patrick, but what nobody seems to understand is that I don't have a choice! Look, I didn't ask for this, okay? I don't know why Patrick's bothering me all of a sudden, but he is, and now there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, it's inevitable, right? That's what Marci seems to think, anyway, and honestly I'm starting to think she's right. So what am I supposed to do now, Liz? Huh? You were nice enough to warn me about him, but... now what?"

Liz Mueller recoiled as if slapped. All the color drained from her face.

"I don't know," she confessed quietly, suddenly afraid for her. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're supposed to do."

Silence prevailed for the next thirty seconds. Liz turned forward, dropped her chin into her chest, and stared guiltily at her manicured hands. Next to her, Desiree had removed her sunglasses and was gnawing anxiously on the plastic tip. Peter Gordon glanced over her shoulder and saw her doing this. He made a sickened face and whipped back around. Right now, he wanted to crawl inside his locker and close the door. He couldn't stand tense silences like this. They reminded him a little too much of home.

"Just... be careful, okay?" Liz finally said. "If things start to get weird, or you start to feel unsafe for whatever reason, make sure you tell someone. Tell your mom, your best friend, me, Marci, just... someone, okay? Most of the other girls wish they had. Shit, I know I did." She reached over and gave Evelyn's knee a comforting pat. "You're not alone in this, Evelyn. I know it might seem like you are, but you're not. We all know what you're going through."

Evelyn smiled gently, gratefully, but part of her wondered if any of them truly understood.

Time crawled forward. Evelyn looked up at the clock and saw that it was almost a quarter to four now. Mrs. Lafferty was probably getting angry with her. She was probably tapping her foot, glaring at the clock, and thinking, Well, is that little brat showing up or what? Evelyn felt guilty about that. She knew it wasn't polite to keep people waiting, and yet...

"Hey, do you guys know Manda Bosch?"

"Manda?" Liz and Des exchanged a furtive glance. "Sure. What about her?"

"There's just a rumor going around about her and a boy in my grade."

"Oh, right," Liz said, and for some reason, Des started to laugh. "I keep forgetting you sophomores are new to this. Look, you just have to learn to ignore her, okay? Manda does this kinda shit all the time, and I mean all the time. She parties way too hard, gets way too drunk, and then cheats on her boyfriend with some loser who won't refuse her. Then she sobers up the next morning, feels guilty, and cries rape to cover her own ass. It's really sad and pathetic, honestly, but I guess it works 'cause her boyfriend still hasn't dumped her even though he's way out of her league. I don't understand the appeal, personally. I mean, she must give really good head or something."

Evelyn squirmed at that remark. Behind her, Peter Gordon was coughing as if he'd swallowed something wrong.

"So you're saying she just made it up?" Evelyn asked, hopeful.

"Oh yeah, for sure. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for supporting victims and everything, but Manda Bosch is not a victim. She's just a sloppy, sloppy drunk who will spread her legs for anyone. That sounded really mean, I know, but it's just a fact. She even came onto Pete once, practically right in front of me."

"And I ignored that siren's song," Peter interjected passionately. "I said to her, 'No, you foul temptress, you stay away! I have a beautiful girlfriend and I love her with all my heart.'"

Liz gave him a dubious look. "Yeah, like you're going anywhere." Then, to Evelyn: "See, Pete's not the cheating type. He knows he hit the jackpot with me and he's not about to squander his winnings on some dumb, drunk slut. Find yourself a guy like that, Evelyn, and all these rumors just become background noise."

"Okay," Evelyn said uneasily. This conversation had taken a few unexpected turns and she was struggling to keep up. "So it's definitely not true?"

"No..." Liz said, but her voice sounded strangely high-pitched all of a sudden. "Well, I mean, it's probably not true... Why? Who's the rumor about?"

"Umm, Henry Bowers," Evelyn answered anxiously, and flicked her eyes away. "I don't know if you know who that is."

"Yeah, all you sophomores kinda blur together... Oh, wait, he's the really angry one, right? The kid who always looks like he's gonna stab somebody?"

Evelyn gave a reluctant nod. It wasn't the kindest description, but it was probably the most accurate.

"Huh," Liz said. "Well, that changes things a bit."

Evelyn's stomach dropped. "You think it could be true?"

"Well, no, not necessarily. Hold on a sec." Liz craned her head around and called out to her boyfriend: "Hey, Pete, you used to hang out with that Bowers kid, didn't you?"

"Yeah, for a like a summer," Peter Gordon answered shortly. He wore the tight, apprehensive expression of a man who'd just been asked to take the stand and testify as an eyewitness in a murder trial. "That was a long time ago, Liz..."

Peter was fifteen then and feeling rebellious. His parents had recently split up, and he was going through a tough time. He thought it'd be kind of cathartic to shoot stuff, smash a couple windows, and shoplift dirty magazines. Petty crimes. Maybe a misdemeanor or two. He wasn't expecting it to get as intense as it did, and there were times when Henry Bowers honestly frightened him. He'd never seen so much hate in one person.

"Okay," Liz said, "but did he seem like a rapist to you?"

Evelyn winced at that word. How could everyone throw it around so casually?

"Racist? Yeah. Rapist? No, I wouldn't quite go that far... but again, that was a long time ago. Who knows what that kid's capable of now."

"Not that," Evelyn said. "No, Henry didn't rape anybody."

Liz shrugged. "Okay, well... there's your answer. They probably just had sex."

"Sex. Right."

Evelyn gulped down both words, closed her mouth, and nodded stiffly, feeling her blood thumping in her temples. Liz and Des studied her quietly, looked at each other, and quickly put together the rest of the puzzle. When they saw the completed picture, Des cringed and Liz's pretty pink lips parted with an inaudible gasp.

"Oh..." Liz whispered, looking down at Evelyn with a sympathetic frown. "Oh, sweetie, no..."

Then Des said, "I remember when I was going through my bad boy phase. God, was that a mistake."

Evelyn's face flamed with dull anger. "No, that's not—" but a gruff voice cut her off.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Martin Davers had emerged from the hallway with a notebook wedged under his arm and a pencil tucked behind his ear. He opened his locker, tossed everything inside, and slammed the door closed. His biceps bulged under the tight fabric of his shirt. His eyes, a dark, stormy blue, narrowed into a fierce, territorial glare as he squared up to Evelyn like a menacing troll. Martin was six feet tall and heavily muscled. He used to be on the football team, but he got cut during his second year because he couldn't meet the minimum grade requirement. Now Martin was constantly looking for new ways to release all his pent-up aggression. Evelyn Tozier was his favorite target.

Liz rolled her eyes at Martin, unbothered. "Speaking of bad boys... What do you want, Martin?"

"I'm just wondering what a sophomore's doing in the senior locker area."

Evelyn flinched suddenly, forgetting where she was, and as she looked around now, all the furniture had grown shockingly large. She felt like she was sitting inside some silly funhouse where everything was comically oversized. All the lockers towered over her like skyscrapers. The couch seemed big enough to swallow her whole; Evelyn's feet could barely reach the edge. She sat upon the tattered cushion like a doll waiting for some little girl to come along and carry her off to tea time. Oh, yes, tea time. Tea time with March Hare and the Hatter. Evelyn was a child trapped in Wonderland, lost and scared, staring at the Cheshire Cat's mischievous grin.

"Look, she's with us, okay?" Liz Mueller made a dismissive motion with her hand, then turned back to Evelyn, who had shifted her weight forward in an early attempt to stand. The girl's face had gone terribly pale. "Oh, Evelyn, don't let him scare you off. Martin's just an asshole."

"No, it's okay," she said colorlessly. "I have to get going, anyway."

(I'm late for tea...)

Mrs. Lafferty was expecting her, and it would have been rude to keep her waiting any longer... yes, rude, that sounded right. It was Evelyn's good manners that compelled her to leave so quickly. It was good manners that made her press her thighs together and cross her arms over her chest. Good manners that had her staggering to her feet, mumbling goodbye to the floor, and walking away as fast as she could.

It had nothing to do with Martin's stare—that hot, searing stare that seemed to follow her down the hallway.

Evelyn started apologizing before she even entered the classroom.

"Sorry, I'm late, Mrs. Laff—" she began, but the rest of the words had tumbled inward and back down her throat. She stopped in the middle of the doorway, one foot in, one foot out, with her right arm bent at the elbow, beginning an apologetic wave. Evelyn never finished it, though. Much like her words, her hand had retreated into itself, curled into a loose fist, and fallen limp at her side. Her eyes widened with shock and disbelief. Her heart jogged in her chest. She drew in a breath and held it for a moment, forcing herself to calm down.

Before she arrived, the classroom had been quiet and empty apart from the two occupied desks. Mrs. Lafferty sat at hers with a cup of honeyed tea and was idly stirring it while she reviewed tomorrow's lesson plans. She looked up briefly when she heard Evelyn's voice. It was a very distinct voice, loud and clumsy as one might expect from a Tozier, but at least hers wasn't accompanied by crude humor and poorly performed (not to mention grossly offensive) accents. Yes, in that regard, her little brother was truly unique.

Mrs. Lafferty smiled at Evelyn. "Don't worry about it. You're in fine company. This one kept me waiting, too," she said, tipping her head toward the student sitting in the back. "He's lucky I didn't leave and just give him a zero, but I don't think I'll be getting a thank you for that, will I?"

Mrs. Lafferty was answered with silence. For once, Henry Bowers had nothing to say... not to her, anyway.

He had been hunching over his math quiz and glaring at question number four when he heard Evelyn's voice drift through the open door, her words amplified by the hollow silence that had fallen over the school. As soon as the sound hit Henry's ears, his back straightened and his heart started racing. It was an instinctual reaction, kind of like when Henry flinched whenever his dad reached for his belt. That one motion stirred up a decade's worth of painful memories and emotions and drove them straight to the surface like worms wiggling up from the dirt during a rainstorm. His dad didn't even need to beat him anymore (but he did anyway). He simply had to gesture toward his belt and Henry cowered back in submission. Yes, sir. No, sir. Straighten up and get back in line.

Of course, it was only kind of like that. There was no pain associated with the sound of Evelyn Tozier's voice (unless you counted the slight hangover-like headache that sometimes occurred halfway through a conversation with her). No with her voice, Henry felt only the most wonderful, comforting calm, bright with her laughter, warm with her smile, soft as the woven cotton blanket that he often found draped over him when he woke up in the middle of the night. Henry would sit up, look across the room, and see Evelyn passed out at her desk with her head nestled inside the crook of her arm. Usually, he would leave after that, but sometimes he would sit and observe her for a while, listening to her gentle snoring, watching her skin sparkle beneath the soft glow of her desk lamp, feeling his heart slowly thudding in his chest, getting stronger and stronger. Henry could have stayed like that forever.

Happy.

Peaceful.

Safe.

Evelyn Tozier was a sweet escape, and Henry craved her like a junkie needing a fix. It was a desperate, visceral desire that gripped him more firmly with each passing day. Growing. Intensifying. Evolving into a savage, carnal beast that was impossible to control.

When Henry heard her voice that afternoon, every nerve in his body came alive at once. He had to grip the edge of his desk because he didn't trust himself to stay in his chair. How could he when Evelyn was standing on the other side of that door? When that safe, peaceful, happy feeling was finally within reach? All Henry had to do was get up, run out that door and—

Evelyn appeared in the doorway, wearing that sunshine yellow dress with the flouncy little skirt that went whoosh-whoosh every time she moved her hips. The skirt that tempted him. Teased him. Taunted him. The skirt that Patrick Hockstetter's hand had crawled underneath like some filthy, disgusting insect... and she didn't push his hand away.

??WHY DIDN'T SHE PUSH HIS HAND AWAY??

(Because she's a whore, just like your mother)

No. No, she's not, Dad. She's nothing like—

(YOU ARGUING WITH ME NOW, BOY?)

Belt.

Flinch.

No, sir.

Whore, sir.

!!STRAIGHTEN UP AND GET BACK IN LINE!!

When Henry saw Evelyn in that yellow dress, his mind became a battlefield. All his thoughts were clashing against each other in bloody combat, and he didn't know which side was going to kill the others and claim him. He was being pulled in too many directions. Assaulted by too many urges. All the while, Evelyn stood there staring at him with that hopeful, frightened look, like she desperately wished he would speak to her, but she was also terrified of what he might say.

And that's when Henry realized he was frightened of himself, too.

If he ran to her now like he wanted to, he wasn't sure what would happen. In one thought, he was wrapping his arms around her and hugging her. In another, he was pushing her against the wall and smashing his mouth against her warm, soft lips. In another, he was squeezing his fingers around her neck and throttling her until all the light left her eyes.

Slapping her.

Beating her.

Bashing her head against the wall again and again and again.

(Because that's what you do with whores)

The thought rose up from nowhere. It had caught him off guard. Snuck up behind him and tried to seize control. Henry fought it back and it left easily enough, but he knew it wasn't gone for good. Eventually, it would come back even stronger. Maybe next time it would win. Maybe. Maybe—

"Head down, Mr. Bowers," Mrs. Lafferty said as she stood up from her desk. "You're here to take a quiz, not gawk at pretty girls."

"Fuck you, bitch," Henry muttered under his breath, relieved to hear his own voice again. Just his own voice again.

Mrs. Lafferty walked over to Evelyn, who had turned away and was now approaching a small table at the front of the classroom. Honestly, Henry was glad for the distance. The further away the better. For her sake. He put his head down and tried to focus on his quiz.

"You don't have to finish this all today, of course," Mrs. Lafferty was saying to Evelyn, "just the two morning classes should be enough. Whatever you have left, you can just leave in the pile there. I'll take the rest home with me tonight."

Evelyn nodded, pulled out the chair, and sat down. As soon as she did, she felt two eyes drilling through the back of her skull. Her heart bucked wildly. She looked over her shoulder and caught Henry's gaze for half a second, but then Mrs. Lafferty called her attention back and placed two red pens on the table. Upon withdrawing her hand, she said, "Oh, and Evelyn? No doodling on the quizzes, please."

Evelyn smiled back sheepishly. "Right, sorry... sometimes I get a little carried away."

After all, grading quizzes got awfully boring after a while. In that state, it was easy for her to accidentally turn a simple smiley face into a cat or a dog... or a cute, friendly little monkey swinging off the edge of the score. Evelyn was no artist, but she hoped her doodles gave the students a good chuckle when they got their quizzes back. Especially those who failed. For those unlucky few, Evelyn hoped her drawings helped soften the blow, if only just a little.

Mrs. Lafferty returned to her desk and reached for her tea. After taking a few slow sips, she lowered her cup and said with a forced smile, "By the way, Evelyn, I had a lovely little chat with your mother this morning."

"Oh?" Evelyn said, and that was where the conversation ended.

Judging by Mrs. Lafferty's expression, there had been nothing lovely about that chat, nothing at all.

Evelyn put her head down and quietly began her work: comparing each answer against the key, marking the wrong ones with her pen, counting up the marks, tallying up the final score, and printing it at the top of the page. Each score was accompanied by an encouraging message like GREAT JOB! WAY TO GO!! AWESOME EFFORT!!! Then she would place the paper in the completed pile and move on to the next one.

Behind her, Henry Bowers kept his head bent over his quiz the whole time, his expression frustrated and tense. Evelyn didn't look back at him either, not once, not even when the urge was so strong she thought she might go crazy. She couldn't bear to look at him now, conflicted as she was. It brought up too many questions... questions Evelyn wasn't sure she wanted the answers to.

Did you let her kiss you? she wondered as she stared down at the red pen. Because I never...

"Head down, Mr. Bowers. I won't say it again."

Evelyn sucked in a quiet breath, held it, and slowly peeked over her left shoulder. Henry's head was down again, his hand furiously scribbling on the paper. Evelyn continued to hold her breath, continued to stare, until his eyes finally lifted off the page. Henry's writing hand slowed, then stopped. Evelyn's breath left her in a long, drawn-out sigh. Then Mrs. Lafferty got up from her desk, Henry dropped his head, and Evelyn turned back around.

"Evelyn, I need to go to the teacher's lounge for a few minutes," she said, but what she really meant was, I'm stepping outside for a smoke. "Henry, you have five minutes left. Leave your quiz on my desk when you're done."

Mrs. Lafferty's heels clicked delicately as she walked, the sound drifting further and further... further away. Then there was only silence.

Evelyn sat back and stared gloomily at the clock. It was four twenty-two now, but the time never registered in her head. She was too busy thinking, hoping, wishing those hands would unwind and go backward just this once. Take them back to that blissful Before: before Evelyn wore this stupid dress, before Henry had sex with Manda Bosch, before Patrick Hockstetter picked up Evelyn's clipboard, followed her into the hallway, and asked, Where have I seen you?, before the trunk, before the stolen shirts, before the long, lonely, miserable summer... before Evelyn crossed the line and messed everything up.

Can we just go back, please? she begged. Because every day after that has been a total nightmare.

(and she had a terrible feeling it was only going to get worse)

Evelyn gave the clock one last pleading look, and the clock stared back in silent refusal. Its hands ticked, tocked, and crept forward.

(Tick)

(Tock)

(Tick)

(Tock)

Henry finished his quiz, dropped it off on the teacher's desk, and—

Evelyn stood up and said, "Can you please talk to me? Because I really don't understand what I did wrong."

Her plea was weak, desperate. Henry didn't even hear it. He went around her and started walking toward the door.

What the fuck?

"Henry!" she cried softly... in her Before voice.

Henry stopped as soon as he heard it, his whole body stiffening in recognition, and for a moment time seemed to stop.

(Tick—)

Finally, he spoke. "You know, I thought..." His voice emerged from deep in his throat, strangled with grief and despair. "I thought we were..."

"What?" Evelyn said. "What?"

JUST SAY IT!

Henry's jaw clenched tightly, and his lips drew back in a pained smile. "Fuck you, Evelyn," he said and went out.

(Tock)

Evelyn's mouth fell open in a stifled cry of disbelief. Hope left her eyes as defeat washed over her. Her legs went weak, gave out, and she collapsed back into her chair, numb, speechless. Above her, the clock watched with cold indifference. Its hands crawled forward... forward... forward.

(Tick)

(Tock)

(Tick)

(Tock)

Sometime later, while Evelyn was lackadaisically doodling on a student's quiz, she heard the slow, dragging thumps of Mrs. Lafferty's feet coming down the hallway.

"I've already finished the first two stacks," Evelyn reported half-heartedly, "and I'm halfway through the third."

She moved the quiz to the completed pile, turned around, and froze.

Martin Davers was leaning beside the door with his arms folded over his chest.

"That's a really nice dress," he said.

Evelyn rose from her chair slowly, her heart pumping loudly in her chest. "What do you want, Martin?"

"Nothing," he answered, his eyes calm and attentive. "I guess I just wanted to know why you're trying so hard to dress sexy all of a sudden." Martin seemed to ponder this soberly for a moment, his brow furrowed in mock perplexity. "'Cause from where I'm standing, it kinda looks like you're trying to advertise something. Is that right, Tozier? Are you open for business now?"

"Open for business?" Evelyn repeated. The phrase stunned her so completely that she almost laughed. "It's spirit week, Martin. I have to dress up."

"Oh, I see," Martin said, fascinated. "You had to dress in a skimpy skirt today. That was today's theme."

Evelyn's mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

"Wait, that wasn't today's theme?" Martin cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Well, then why are you wearing that dress, Evelyn?"

She stared at him, unable to speak. Why had she chosen this dress? Why this dress over all the others? Mrs. Criss had dozens of modest dresses that would have satisfied today's theme just as well. She had boxes and boxes of them. Evelyn tried them on. They had fit her perfectly, way better than this dress did. Why had she cast them aside?

"I was just following the theme," she said, her eyes vacant, glassy.

"You were just following the theme." He nodded. "Okay, Evelyn, answer me this: what was today's theme?"

Her stomach twisted. "Huh?"

"Go on, tell me. What was today's theme?"

His voice was shrill and full of scorn. Evelyn shut her mouth tightly, her bottom lip quivering, and shook her head as tears flooded her eyes.

"Please stop," she whispered.

"Well?"

"Stop."

"Tell me."

She swallowed hard and answered: "It was Groovy Monday."

"Right," he said, "it was Groovy Monday, not Skimpy Monday, not Slutty Monday. It was Groovy Monday. Thank you for clearing that up for me, Evelyn, because I was so confused for a second." He smiled at her, grateful. "Now, let's go back to my initial question: why are you trying so hard to dress sexy? Because that's an awfully short dress, Evelyn."

"It follows the dress code," she said, but then from the dark, shadowy part of her mind, she heard

(barely)

another voice that made her eyes widen with a horrific realization. This really was a terribly short dress. Yes. Yes, she saw that now. Not short enough to make her parents worry. Not short enough to violate the school's dress code.

(No more than four inches above the knee... Did you measure it, Evelyn?)

But just short enough to—

Martin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you trying to get someone's attention, Evelyn? Show him what he's missing?"

"No," she answered in a shaky voice, but the other, faraway voice spoke the truth.

(Yes)

She had wanted to get someone's attention today, and she got it, oh yes, she got it. When Henry Bowers stormed up to her that morning, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her hard against him, when he glared down at her, stared at her lips with that feral, ferocious hunger, Evelyn felt her heart flutter with such excitement. For a minute, she thought he was actually going to kiss her. She wanted him to.

(If I had been wearing this dress that day, then maybe...)

Evelyn slapped her hand over her mouth, but still the voice persisted:

(Yes)

(and you got what you wanted, didn't you?)

(Yes)

Guilt crept into her heart and devoured her slowly, leaving her hollow and cold. "Look," she said huskily, blinking the wetness from her eyes, "Mrs. Lafferty's gonna be coming back in a minute, so..."

Martin clucked his tongue in dissent. "I think it might take her a little longer than that."

For a moment, Evelyn's gaze was blurry with tears. Then it cleared as strange, dizzying terror stole through her. It was almost like a bad dream. In a slow daze, she saw Martin walking toward the door. Saw him tuck his boot underneath the doorstop and kick it up with one flick of his ankle. The door moaned and swung slowly, so slowly, and closed with a whisper of a click. Evelyn's breath stopped. Her body froze with fear.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a small, trembling voice.

Martin answered her question with one of his own: "What were you doing in the senior locker area, Evelyn?"

"What?" The word came out dry and brittle, and it crumbled as it left her lips. "Nothing, I was just..."

Martin stepped toward her, his blue eyes glinting ominously in the light.

"You were just...?"

Adrenaline shot through her, sending Evelyn's heart into a mad gallop. She glanced at the door and made herself move. Martin closed the distance. She side-stepped, tried to duck around him, and he caught her brutally by the wrist. A scream fetched in her throat. Their eyes locked fiercely, and for one frightening moment, Evelyn saw the same savage hunger that had consumed Henry Bowers. Her heart stopped. Her mind exploded and went flying, crashing, tumbling down into deep blackness like a stone down a well, falling down to a cold, dark place, where a voice—that voice—was giggling.

(You got what you wanted, didn't you?)

Now her fear had collapsed into pure panic. She struggled against him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and tried to wrestle her arm free. Martin overpowered her easily, flung her around, and slammed her down hard against the desk. Evelyn's body hit the wood with a dull thud. Her head jerked forward, snapped back, and spun dizzily. Clockwise. Her vision blurred and became ringed with darkness. She was falling, plunging down to that cold, dark, guilty place.

"What's wrong, Tozier?" Martin asked breathlessly. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Please stop!" she said, but her voice had slipped away from her and went up, up, up.

"You wanted attention, right? Wanted people to finally see you as a woman?"

"No! No!"

(YES!)

"Well, I see you, Tozier," Martin said. "Yeah, I see you crystal fucking clear."

Evelyn fell deeper and deeper, screaming without a sound, and slammed against something hard and cold. The bottom. She had finally hit the bottom. Her right cheek was pressed against the desk, and Martin's hand was on her head, holding her firmly in place. He didn't have to hold her down, though. Evelyn couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. She was too far gone, trapped in that cold, dark place, and now the guilt was creeping toward her on all fours, its eyes bright and hungry, desperate to feed. Evelyn lay on her stomach, paralyzed, watching it come closer and closer... closer and closer... until—

The knob turned and the door opened.

Henry Bowers stood on the other side, blinking in dazed bewilderment.

Martin threw him a vicious grin. "You want in on this, Bowers?" he asked while he pushed some of Evelyn's hair away from her face. "You can go first if you want."

Evelyn flinched away from Martin's hand and felt Henry's eyes land on her softly, gently, filling her heart with such sweet relief. For a moment, she thought she was weightless, flying, floating far away from that cold, dark guilty place, but then she saw something that turned her heart into stone, and she plummeted right back to the bottom.

Henry's eyes, those bright, beautiful blue eyes, had suddenly darkened into the most terrifying shade of black. Evelyn didn't even recognize them anymore.

Time crawled forward and stopped. The clock on the wall stopped ticking. Its hands screeched to a halt and stood at attention, waiting for their next command.

It came a second later, in a shocking act of betrayal.

"No," Henry said, "she's not worth it."

The door closed and time resumed with a violent lurch, knocking Evelyn backward, backward, backward. The clock on the wall started tocking and ticking, tocking and ticking: backward, backward, backward. Its hands went spinning, whirling, unwinding: backward, backward, backward. Counterclockwise. Taking them back. Taking them all the way back.

And now that voice was speaking to her again, speaking from that cold, dark place.

(You got what you wanted, didn't you?)

Yes, she answered. Yes, I did.

_____________________

PREV // CURRENT // NEXT

taglist: @secrethologramflower @rosepresley

#bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #belch huggins #fanfic #fanfiction #henry bowers fanfiction #patrick hockstetter fanfiction #it stephen king #it 2017 #paper men #ambrossart

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ask-the-royal-absol · 2 years

Note

Charade: (to Destino) "Mhm, mhm. Being a Dark-type is more than being a little butthead, nyaha! Okay, okay--that's not helpful, I'm sorry. Are you proud to be a Dark-type? Striking out at your foes in the night?"

(to Hershel) "Actually, it might be easier for them to use their Z-Crystal if they saw YOU do it first. What moves do you know? Are YOU setting a good example?"

Destino: Is that your best insult? Perhaps you need to work on that. I know not everyone can be as amazing as coming up with insults as I am.

Felix: Ya probably a solid 8/10 when it comes to insultin', pal.

Destino: And you're probably a solid 6/10 when it comes to being a decent friend but I don't complain. Anyway, Hersh, take this joker away. Unless they can get into my league of insults, I don't wanna see them.

Hershel: Very well, my Prime.

*the bisharp grabs you and begins dragging you out.*

Hershel: I do not know how to use this mysterious crystal. The only thing I know is that our ancestors used to use them. I have no knowledge on where to even begin. I suppose my night slash would be the only thing that would work with it possibly but I really do not know. I try my hardest to set a good example for the Prime, though I’m not sure they would choose to follow regardless of what I said. Besides, I do not know whether the Prime would allow for me to use their crystal first.

(Edit: I forgot the face patterns on Charade like the goofy-ass clown I am. I am so sorry.

Edit again: I am not just a clown. I am the entire circus. Forgot the purple. This is why you don’t draw when you’re ill.)

#pokemon ask blog #pokemon #pokemon oc #ask blog #pokemon askblog #pokeask #ask #ask the royal absol #destino the absol #this is the best I can do while I’m down with the flu #I needed my full energy just to make this #back to sleep again!#I genuinely have so many problems with how I drew this #All well #They very much focused on the whole butthead thing

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mable-stitchpunk · 4 years

Text

FNAF-TOBER Prompt- 8: Funtime Freak Show

“You wanna disappear, Lambchop? Heh, you’ve got it.”

Millie had never been as terrified as when she heard those words echoing down on her. She began to panic then and frantically banged on the hatch that made up the bear’s belly, hoping she would either break out or alert her grandfather. Neither happened, and Funtime Freddy giggled at her meager attempts. Though otherwise he stayed quiet.

After a couple of hours passed, Millie became convinced that Funtime Freddy was intending to hold her until she died from dehydration. That would be a particularly gruesome death, but she held onto the hope that her grandfather would come into the room and find her before then. It was a thin sliver of hope.

That was, until sometime later in the night when Funtime Freddy started to move. Millie had fallen asleep and awoke to the body shaking and shifting as he stood up. It easily carried her weight and she was beginning to panic.

“What’s going on? Where are you taking me?!” she asked frantically.

“You’ll see,~” he trilled. He punctuated it with a short giggle.

She knew there was no point in pleading with him- she had for hours on end- but this newfound sense of secrecy only made her more aware of her lingering doom. Now nobody was going to find her. He was right, he was going to make her disappear.

Unable to see anything or make much of directions, Millie sat inside of Funtime Freddy for ages as it left the house and went... Somewhere. Again, Freddy was strangely quiet, and whenever she did press for answers he was remarkably tight-lipped. Save things like, “You’ll see soon enough!” and “Oh, we’re going to have SO much f-f-fuuuuun!”

The long period of travel was broke by a loud creaking noise that sounded like a metal door. Millie tried to listen in against the hatch and could hear the lumbering footsteps on what sounded like concrete, and what very faintly sounded like voices in the distance. They quieted down but she attempted to listen closer.

Then, all of a sudden, Funtime Freddy’s hatch opened and Millie was dumped onto the floor. Onto a thin tarp that did little to deflect the concrete beneath it.

“Welc-c-come to the F-F-F-FUNTIME FREAK SH-SHOW!”

Millie looked up quickly and found her blood run cold. She was in some sort of abandoned warehouse or something like it. Old props, probably from pizzerias closed decades ago, were sat up like some sort of makeshift diner. Posters were clumsily taped up on the walls and strands of lights weaved in shelves and hung between them and along the walls.

But what horrified her was not the decor, but the creatures standing around her. They were like Funtime Freddy, broken and busted animatronics barely keeping themselves together.

There was a ballerina hunched down on all fours like a spider. Her eyelids were open, but there were no eyes inside, her paint was worn away, and some of the plates on her chest were missing. Four, small ballerinas clung to her body, some of them missing limbs or stained with dirt and paint.

Then there was a fox who looked like it might’ve been styled like Funtime Freddy. It was missing one eye and its chest plate was missing, revealing wires spilling out of its belly. Its mouth was also hanging open, so its jaw was probably useless.

There was a small animatronic that looked like a blue rabbit. Though what was odd was that its legs didn’t seem set against its body right and were white and beige instead of a matching blue. Almost like they didn’t originally belong to it.

The final one looked to be a clown from the face peeking out from behind a shelf. Though she couldn’t make much of it other than a few wires poking out under its face.

All of their eyes were staring down at her and Millie was becoming increasingly nervous. Her heart started pounding, her vision began to tunnel, and her palms were sweating worse now than when she first was trapped inside Freddy. She was beginning to hyperventilate.

“What’s wrong, Silly Millie? Just so in sh-sh-shhock and aww about our fantastical lil scrap circus?” Funtime Freddy chirped mockingly. When she looked back at him, dwarfed by his massive form, he chuckled. “Oh, you should see the look on your face!”

“You’re going to kill me-?!” Millie blurted out. Her voice was high and her question mixed up. He cocked his head at her, eyes lowering to show the metal above them, almost like giving a half-lidded look.

“I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” His voice was deeper, still mocking but now borderline threatening. It sent a chill down her spine. “...But nope! See, I had a ba-rilliant idea on how you could disappear- just like you wanted~- and still be a pr-productive member of society!” He spread his arms. “You’re gonna join our circus!”

That was not what she was expecting. “...What?”

“See, we’re not all put together here. Foxy can’t close his mouth to save his life, Ballora’s blind as a bat- Anyone who sees us is gonna think we ain’t good enough to be on stage. But yoooou~,” he sing-songed as he reached out and poked her on the forehead. “You’re just as busted up as we are. You’re into twisted and dark stuff. You’re a real sicko! We like that. You’d be the perfect audience.”

“So... So you kidnapped me, brought me here, and you want me to watch your show?” Millie asked.

“That’s the plan!” Funtime Freddy chirped. There were happy-sounding giggles from the ballerina’s direction, but it sound more like it was the dolls on them. The fox clapped his hands, clattering the metal together. For a moment she thought that maybe this was more innocent than she feared. Maybe she could still get out of this.

“So... If I stay and watch the show, you’ll let me go?” Millie tentatively asked. This time she was met with a pause, then a low chuckle from Funtime Freddy.

“Ha ha! You’re a killer, Lambchop! If I let you go, you wouldn’t be disappearing, would ya? Nah, you’re going to stay right here- with us!- and you’re gonna watch allll our shows! We’re going to have so. much. Fun!”

Millie felt that fear return. She looked around at the warehouse and could tell it had been abandoned for a long time. There were no signs of windows and she couldn’t see where the door was. She was trapped here, and even if she did try to escape, they would stop her. Or worse- the thought of being trapped back in the bear made her feel ill.

By now she was trembling, tears of panic and frustration welling up in her eyes.

“Aww, don’t cry, Honey-Bear. It’s gonna be great! We’ll get you food and water, keep you safe and warm- we’re gonna take good care of you!” Funtime Freddy assured. His voice dipped once more. “Because you’re going to be with us for a long, long time.”

#Fnaftober #prompt #Five Nights At Freddy's #Fazbear Frights #Count the Ways #Funtime Freddy #Millie fazbear frights #Funtime Freak Show #It's when they like you that you should be scared

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imaginative-nerd · 3 years

Text

✨A love story of a villain who was never actually a villain ❤️💚✨ Episode 6

Normally these construction works would take years on earth...or as loki would say midgard...but if two gods are getting the work done....we can set the seal real early...

So you didn't have much work on your hands... that's why you started to help the common people of the village in their daily chores...and if you had any spare time you strolled around admiring the beauty of this old Asgardian town Hedeby...by helping the villagers you were able to talk them out of their ill views about loki..you were making them to change their opinions for loki...

Most of them already started to like him...loki was feeling much better about himself...that he can be liked too...

All three of you were staying in a shed made of wood in the corner of the village...it wasn't a royal one...a normal shed with just 3 beds inside and a small stove to cook some food.

Its the third day now since your arrival...thor and loki are almost on the verge of concluding the work here...you just woke up...thor and loki were already working....you were still sleepy...ahhh but these asgardians... they rise up with the sun...so its not polite to stay in bed for too long...so you just got out of your bed and went to see them...

You - howdy workers!

Thor - what is howdy?

Loki - maybe its a midgardian slang..just ignore her

You - heyyy...you can't ignore me

Loki - well you know what darling..

I CAN!

Thor - will you both stop?

Loki made a funny face and got to work...

You - well how long are we staying here??

Thor - maybe a day or two...hey if you wanna head back to palace...you can go without us..

Loki - NO...(he shouted suddenly)....umm i mean its just 2 days at max...she can leave with us..

Thor - but we are doing all the work here...she doesn't have to stay...if she wants she can leave.. and i guess she is getting bored here... don't know why you brought her at the first place...

Loki - she is kind of my moral support...

Thor - what???

Loki - (covering up) i mean i get to make fun or her....brother...kind of entertainment you know!(winking)

You - so i am just a clown for you ?

Loki - Thy truth be told!! (he bowed in a dramatic way)

His words were a little upsetting for you...you left...on your way towards your shed you met an old lady who was carrying a bag which looked heavy...

You - good morning mam...can i help you with that?

Old lady - ohh thankyou so much darling...its really heavy...and at this age its really difficult to carry these things all by yourself ...and please call me linda...

You - alright linda...

You took the load from her and started walking with her along with some chatter...she asked you about who you are and what you were doing there...when you reached to her house... you saw that it was very messy...so you offered to help her with the cleaning....after cleaning you made some soup for her...

You - here's your soup linda!

Linda - oh thankyou darling...i have no one who can look after me...its nice to have someone around..

Meanwhile Loki enters...

Loki - Good lord!!..where the hell you have been?? I have been looking for you since you left...! I was asking everyone about you....at last a kid told me he saw you heading in this direction...(he sounded desparate)

You - oh so you got bored...and were looking for your clown???

Loki - ohhhh c'mon...i was just kidding...and what are you doing here?

You - i was just helping her...do you want some soup??

Loki - oh please no...just come with me...

You - where? To a circus where i can show you some tricks to entertain you sir?

Loki - performing tricks...i think that's my game .. not yours... now just come with me please...

You - please..? (Shocked) this might be pretty serious... alright lets go...(turning to linda) i'll see you later ...and let me know if you need any help..

Linda - see you darling! (Slurping her soup)

You started walking with loki...

You - so where are we going??

Loki - I felt bad for earlier...so i thought i should take you out for a tour...as this is one of the oldest town of asgard...and also i wanted you to come with me...(he paused for a second)...umm and yeah thor said he can handle all the work .. so don't worry about that...

You - alright...i'll come with you..but its...its just you sometimes behave like i am nothing to you...just an entertainer right? (In an upsetting voice)

Loki - its not true (stopping)...you are more than that to me...

You - then what am i?

Loki came closer...he stared at you for a moment with admiration...then his eyes were on your lips....he seemed lost....you were nervous what he was gonna answer...then he kind of shook his head..

Loki - you...you are not just an entertainer....you.... you are....an annoying midgardian as well!! (Chuckled)

You - OH SHUT UP!(hiding your smile)

You were angry... but who can stay mad for much longer at this handsome face ??....you both started walking again...after some time you arrived at a tiny hill...

Loki - so here we are....behind this hill ...there is a cottage....we used to visit here when we were just kids.. me and thor...with our mother and father... there is an old graveyard were our ancestors are buried...

You - really? A grave? You made me walk this long ...just to show a graveyard??

Loki - umm its....my mother...she is buried here...(his face turned dry)

You - ohh loki...i am so sorry..i didn't know..

Loki - no no its okayyy...you know what...she was really pretty and caring...she is the one who loved me unconditionally (with tears in his eyes) ...

You - (holding his hand) lets meet her...

You both started walking towards the cottage....it was a wooden cottage...kind of red...but it looked ancient..it had a yard in front with some pine trees......there was a graveyard on its left..it had a large silver gate with a statue of a winged lady on top...she was gorgeous...

You - is that her? You mother?? (Pointing towards the winged lady)

Loki - yes...

You - she is gorgeous!!

Loki smiled.

You both entered the graveyard...there were about hundreds of graves...the slow wind passing through the graves and the leaves rustling...gave you the heebie-jeebies...but he was still holding your hand so you felt safe...

Loki - (pointing towards a grave) here she is...

You both stood in front of the grave for some minutes..."Frigga - queen of Asgard" was engraved on her gravestone....loki was chanting some asgardian prayer.. then you both sat near a tree in the corner..

You - may i ask you something? If its okay..?

Loki - ya sure...

You - how did your mother die? I mean can gods die?

Loki - Yes...but we can't die a normal death like humans do...we can be killed through some special weapons that are made to kill gods...and we don't have a soul...so we just vanish after we die...but my mother....she was a witch....so i guess she is still watching over me... sometimes it feels like she is still here with me...

And yes about her death....there was a plot against my father's throne... there was this platoon of around 10 people who wanted to take over my father's throne...they found those weapons...they tried to kill him .. but my mother came in between trying to save him...and...(he stuttered and tried to hide his tears)

You - heyyy... Its okay...you can cry...

You placed your hand on his lap...

Loki - no umm... i am alright...thanks anyway...

You - hey but umm.. why are you sharing this with me? I mean you don't really open up with everyone...so why me?

Loki - I don't know exactly...but i think i kind of feel safe with you...that you won't judge me or something.... everyone thinks that i am evil...you are the first one who thinks i am loving, caring and what not..

You - you forgot hot...(winking)

Loki - (smiling) yes that too...

You - well you could have said these things earlier ... Instead of annoying midgardian...

Loki - (laughing) but that's true too ...

You smiled at him..

You - heyy and you know what?

Loki - what now?

You - i wasn't going to leave in the first place...but i liked that how you shouted "no" when thor was suggesting me to head back...

Loki - i am glad... But really... why are you staying here? When you can enjoy the royalty at the palace...

You - to be honest...i don't enjoy all that royalty....i like staying here...with you...and i came here to be with you... to support you...right?? so how can i leave without you?? (Smiling)

Loki's face bloomed like a cherry tree...

You - hey mr. All tough?? Are you blushing??? (Teasing him)

Loki - nooooo.... (In a shy tone)

Suddenly you both heard some weird howling sound... coming from the opposite side of the cottage...loki asked you to stay there only...and went to check what was happening...you asked to come with him but he said that there can be some wild animals who finds human flesh tasty and it was almost dark....so you stayed behind...

All of a sudden you heard a strange ghostly voice echoing while you were walking around...

Voice - come to me Y/N (whispering)

You were so frightened..you couldn't move...but you thought it was loki messing around again...so you headed towards the strange sound...you saw nothing.... suddenly wind rustled...it felt like someone touched your hand and went away floating with the wind towards a grave...it was a spooky incident...but you went anyway..you were curious and wanted to know about that grave and to whom it belonged... it was an old grave... An Epitaph was engraved on a black gravestone...but it was dusty ...you cleaned that gravestone with your hands to read it...the epitaph was "Aslaug Skuld" "a true devotee of god"...there was a pile of leaves on the grave...something was shining below this pile...you dusted out the leaves...there was a locket....you picked it up...it was a hexagon shaped pendant...made of shiny black stone.... something was engraved on the behind of it in some foreign language.. may be asgardian... Suddenly you felt a little dizziness in your head.... everything was blurry now...you threw away the locket and you sat there for a minute holding your head...

Meanwhile loki returned...

Loki - oh it was just a pack of wolves... nothing to worry about...(seeing you) hey what happened why are you sitting here like this(in a worried tone)

You - i ....i heard something...and my head....its just a little dizzy....

Loki - you sound exhausted...when was the last time you ate something?

You - maybe last night...

Loki - what in odin's name you are fasting for? (Angrily)

You - hey i was just busy...

Loki - yaa making soups....now c'mon get up...we should head back...

You got up ...but you were still feeling light-headed....you tripped over a stone.. but loki got a hold of you in time....

Loki - hey come here...let me help...

Loki placed his hand on your waist...and the other one under your thighs...and picked you up...

You - you don't have to do this..

Loki - its alright...this is the least i can do...and i am a god you know...its real easy for me so just let me do it....

You wrapped you your arms around his neck....you were constantly staring at him....this reminded you about your dream and for a moment you forgot what just happened at the grave....you got lost in him....

He carried you to the shed and helped you to get into the bed and tucked you in.... usually thor was the one to cook food but he was out having some drinks with the villagers...so loki cooked some oatmeal for you...

You - can't you cook something with your magic?(while he was serving the oatmeal)

Loki - no it doesn't work that way...its just an illusion....(handing you the bowl)

You - ohh it means... its good for nothing...(teasing him)

Loki - (twitching his eyes) oh just eat it...i don't want you to die...your death will be on my hands if i won't feed you...

You - i was just kidding..this oatmeal looks really good...

Loki - you don't have to lie... thor is a good cook i know that... you can eat something tasty when he'll be back...for now have some oatmeal to atleast survive (sitting beside you on the bed)

You - umm loki ...you know what?

Loki - what?

You - taste doesn't matter.... efforts do...and you made this for me because you were worried about my health...so this is the tastiest meal i can ever have(smiling)

Loki smiled and cupped your face with one hand...he didn't say anything but his eyes were showing how concerned he was for you....he came closer...you wanted to kiss him...but you were afraid to take a step....he pulled you in...your head was on his chest....he was rubbing your arm to give you some comfort....you wrapped your arms around him...this was comforting!! It felt like home...that all the troubles in the world can just go away with a hug...you were already feeling better now....you moved apart from him after some moment...

You - i should eat now...(smiling)

Loki - umm yes....and i'll go and see where thor is...i'll be back soon...

Loki took his asgsrdian leather jacket and left....you finished your meal..it wasn't too bad...and for you it was the best meal...after eating you started preparing the beds....

Suddenly...the wind started rustling again... the lamps started flickering and got blowed out by the wind..

It got really dark in there....you heard the same strange voice.. similar to the one you heard in the graveyard...you felt little unsteady....you were frightened...you wanted to get out of this shed...you rushed towards the door...but it was locked...you tried to open it but the lock was stucked....you started to bang the door using your full strength....your palms started to bleed....you screamed for help on top of you voice...

You - HELP!!!! IS SOMEONE OUT THERE????LOKIIIIIII...???!!!

No one answered... It was pitch dark in the shed and that strange voice was echoing through the walls in asgardian language... suddenly black smoke emerged from no where near the window...it took the shape of a woman...it had long hair...it looked like she was trying to communicate with you....you were terrified and still trying to unlock the door.....that smoke figure pointed towards your pocket....you saw some light was coming out of it ....you put your hand in your pocket and took that thing out of it that was glowing....

It was that black stone PENDANT!!!

When you looked back up...that smoke thingy was gone....but you were horrified finding that pendant in your pocket..!

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orangezinnia · 4 years

Note

Hello!! What’s the “mystery flesh pit”?

it is my beloved and it fills me with joy every time i think abt it <3

ok but genuinely, the mystery flesh pit, aka the permian basin superorganism (my beloved) is a multimedia horror concept about a... well, a flesh pit, living in the bowels beneath rural desert texas, somewhere near Odessa. it's super interesting, and if fleshrora (my beloved) is a concept that you like, then you'd probably def love the mystery flesh pit!

here's some super intriguing things abt its lore:

- the "flesh pit" is consistent with the innards of a large creature, fit with attractions such as "thor's ribcage", "oyster's shame", "god's mistake", "septum falls," and the "solemn circus clown chymus". its genetic tissue composition isn't comparable with any known creature, but it is, indeed, still flesh.

- when the flesh pit was discovered, it was soon turned into a national park / tourist attraction, much to the unwellness of the flesh pit. what sort of unwellness, you ask? some examples are that people who visit it hardly mind trashing it with litter, or dumping oil from their campsites, or injuring it in their attempts to traverse it.

beyond that, much like when our beloved flesh moon Aurora was turned into a ship by carmilla, engineers have cut into the flesh pit and mangled its natural form in order to make visitor centers, catwalks, gift shops, and general infrastructure inside of it for tourists. this occasionally results in "spasm fits", where the flesh pit spasms and fights and chokes against the engineering inside of it. this, as well, has been turned into a sight to marvel at. they take its pain as entertainment.

- there are creatures who have adpated to live purely inside the flesh pit, such as the "amorphous shame", which is a weasel that has changed over time to simply become a bag of organs that feeds off of the flesh pit's amniotic excretions.

- speaking of amniotic excretions, there are "thermal amniotic springs" that, when bathed in, make people... hmm... lu- ...hor- ....fine ill say it. they make people wanna fU-

- in 2007, disaster struck for the flesh pit, and the flesh pit alone. yes, okay, over 700 people died in the event, but i have no sympathy for them. only for the flesh pit. /hj

to summarize, there was supposed to be a 4th of july fireworks event, but alas, it was too rainy! not a single firework would be visible in that overcast sky. the visitors were angry, dismayed, demanding compensation. and so Anodyne (thats the flesh pit "caretaker" company's name) said "ok! fine! you get more time in the lower visitor center. 4 hours past curfew. go ham."

and go ham they did! but, that would prove to be one domino in a series of failures. see, the harsh rain soon overflowed into the flesh pit's sand gullet (think of a throat), and the pumps that would usually drain it were broken, so it flooded into it's lungs / bronchial area. and, since it's late, there's less staff on board to control the situation. add to that the fact that the visitor center's suspension is taking strain from the increased capacity, and... the flesh pit begins to spasm.

it chokes, and it keeps choking, until it breaks the retraints built inside it, and the entire visitor center (placed somewhere in its esophagus) collapses. other infrastructure begins to break as well.

the staff, predictably, are like "whoops! uh oh! oh no! whoopsy daisies!" and try to subdue it by injecting it with gallons of whale tranquilizer. this has an oppisite effect, however, and simply makes it choke more, and more, until... it vomits. it spews toxic gut-juice into the air, making a large portion of the texas population severely ill.

and somewhere, several miles away from the entry orifice of the flesh pit...... large, titanic limbs begin to sprout up from the ground.

aaaand that's about it! the blog is still updating with occasional tidbits of lore, i suggest you follow it if this is smth that seems neat!

#misc #mystery flesh pit #choking tw #gore tw #thank you for the question! i love to infodump #i hope this has served you well #asks #oz.txt #emetophobia #unreality

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fuckedupevil-slumberparty · 4 years

Text

Alright so I made this blog because I have a spicy personality disorder and it has convinced me that if I don't force myself to use a customer servicesona at all times that I am #toxic and #burning in hell so this is just where I don't have to worry about that.

This isn't a discourse blog please do not interact with me with the intention of discoursing

Basic Info

Not to be a kinnie on main but I'm too tired to pick a name rn so you call me Glimmer. Or Slumber works too actually. Honestly kin assign me names.you think fit my.vibes. cause confusion...get.wild.with it I do.not mind.

Any pronouns except for he/him which I don't vibe with. You can use she/her if you're a fellow nonbinary but I'm not a girl btw <3

Like my bio says I'm plural, if you don't know what that means it means there's multiple people in my (our) body. I'm the only one likely to use this blog I also will not tolerate any discourse about this. If you're singlet you can ask about it but don't clown or I will make all the tags on your clothes indestructible and scratchy.

While my body is an adult I am not internally. All this means is I'm not that mature and that I'm stressed from having to act the body's age at all times (But this does not mean that I am actually underaged at all, I am functionally and legally an adult and will act like one but a very immature very tired one that just wants to stop being the one piloting this flesh suit so I can vibe). For this and trauma reasons please do not talk about adult stuff (nsfw mainly but stuff that wouldn't be appropriate for teenagers) to me without my permission.

Sometimes I age regress I doubt I will post about it often but just know that it is the mental illness kind and not the gross fucked up kind

I have so so many (self) dxes but most importantly autism (so I misunderstand things easily) Dyslexia (so I misread/misinterpret things a lot) and ADHD + BPD (I have bad RSD and panic when I think I've fucked up somehow) I don't use my mental deal as an excuse for anything but keep that in mind if I ever mess something up or am messy.

DNI

The usual stuff I'm too tired to list everything that's on most DNIs but if you're right wing/conservative, a TERF, a transmed, etc. then DNI.

If you think only people with DID can be plural/multiple, think that you have to have trauma to, think that fictives aren't real/valid, or fakeclaim systems. (I have either DID or OSDD1 and am traumagenic so don't even try it lmao) if you don't know what this means then you're good dw I won't be explaining it because said group looks up that discourse and sends death threats and ableist bs to bootlick psychiatry.

If you're pro-kink for like...anything popular tbh I have no idea if there is a single kink community not rooted in abuse and/or oppression so I'm just saying all of them. Go away nasties.

Anyone who's ok with shipping gross shit like pedophilia incest abuse etc bc it's fiction

Anyone into shit like Yandere, traumacore, stuff that fetishizes mental illness or trauma. (Tl:dr on traumacore it paints trauma as an aesthetic and the community promotes emotional and sometimes physical self harm and I'm still recovering from that community)

Think any mental disorder is scary, bad, or inherently toxic. Take your "survivor of narcissistic abuse" ass and jump into a trashcan so you can ride it to the circus <3

If you're an ace exclusionist or mogai exclusionist or mspec lesbian/gay exclusionist etc.

You're a fan of Th0mas S@nders or the sides

You're a fan of hom3stuck or H@$bin H0t3l or danganronpa

Hetalia AOT/SNK or promare fans

Also fans of Steven Universe and She Ra are fine but if you like the diamonds or Hordaks redemption arcs/think they can be redeemed DNI bc that is major cringe actually.

Other important info

I tag the q word because it's an actual trigger to some people and wanting an identity tagged is not dehumanizing y'all just have trigger warnings stigmatized so much you think that triggers can only be bad things. I'm fine with people using the word as an identity but please don't use it for me (or anyone who hasn't said they're ok with it)

I'm anti cringe culture but by that I mean that bullying kids for drawing fursonas and being nombinary is shitty and not that nothing and no one should be criticized. I call media cringe or behaviors cringe sometimes but only if there's something actually wrong or bigoted about it.

I call myself an idiot/stupid a lot. This is not self depreciation and is the reclamation of ableist language. I take pride in being someone who is not academically put together and who falls very short of any intellectual standards. At the same time miss me with that IQ shit bc that's based in white supremacy.

I have trauma surrounding debate and debate culture that I don't want to explain but basically do not attempt to debate me. I will not do it and it stresses me out. Discuss things yes but debate no.

If you recognize my typing style and me and we're mutuals/friends on other blogs and I haven't told you about this one it doesn't mean I was hiding it from you and if I criticize something you enjoy that I've never criticized to you it's not a vague to you it's likely because my mental ill brain decided if I have opinions everyone will hate me so I made a blog for it.

Even in "bastard mode" on this blog I'm not like. Rude or mean. So if you ever wanna chat sometimes feel free to!

I'm falling asleep now bc I did this at 1am for some reason but ill add anything else if it's relevant later ig.

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mjm56-a · 4 years

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HOW I RUN MY BLOG

Speed: i can be..... SO SLOW when replying to threads. it honestly just depends on my mental health for the day and if i feel capable enough to write. i can easily range from “i will reply to this thread Immediately” to “the bubonic plague has overtaken my physical form and its gonna take me a few weeks to get to it”. same goes for asks as well, but im always active on discord if u want to yell @ me

Replies: my replies usually stay in my drafts; as soon as i get to see ur reply to our thread, i save it to my drafts to make sure i dont lose it. i post them as soon as theyre ready and i dont rlly utilize my queue for things reply-wise-- mostly just for aesthetics, art, promos, etc. they can get.. way too lengthy tbh and i always tag my threads as “long thread //” as soon as the writing starts to exceed the length of the web browser. i cant really HELP IT, i just have a tendency to write a lot abt the thoughts of my muse . i apologize if this comes off as prose; i try my hardest not to go into that territory and to make sure my replies are as coherent as possible

Starters: as for starter calls, i can get super sidetracked, especially when i have 5+ people liking them and expecting from me, and i know that i say “ough this could range from a sentence to a paragraph” but i know DAMN well im gonna be writing a paragraph for every person because one liners just feel so..... dry to me?? even with this making starters arent really my strongest suit

Inbox: my inbox is always open for mutuals for interactions, questions abt maji, or jokes! all that i ask is that PLEASE only come into my inbox for interactions if we mutually follow each other. i dont care if we previously interacted mutuals are ALWAYS welcome to come in and fuck around!!

Selectivity: i’m mutually exclusive, first and foremost. i don’t how how to really describe my selectivity-- usually, if you have a tagging system, a rules page, an about, and arent flooding ur blog with so much ooc that the ic feels rare, ill be following you, even if i dont know much about the franchise. (all excluding the communities listed in my rules that i wont interact with LOL)

Wishlist: I WANNA WRITE MY YAKUZ//A 0 VERSES!!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!! i know that pretentious yaku/za fans are like “uumgmghhh y0 is so overrated uumgmghh uugg” but GOD!!!! y0 will always be super close to my heart, as it was the game that got me into the series and ever since i started this blog i’ve been super excited to one day get to write my ponytailed depressed idiot !!!! i know i love angst and sad shit but i also rlly wanna highkey write goofy shit too-- maji is a goofy clown ass bitch and i wanna write him being a goofy clown ass bitch, yfeel???? i wanna write my clown!!! the majim/a circus is back in town!!

Honest Note: i feel afraid that im putting off mutuals from interacting with me, kinda afraid im intimidating but PLEEASSEE let me assure u im Baby. i am Baby Fucking Idiot. i know for a fact that there are people who are intimidated by interacting w muses from the series in general simply bc theres so much content but PLEEASE feel free to ask me any questions abt the games that u want in order to have a better understanding of them bc ill probably be able to answer them-- im almost done w/ dead souls, a good portion thru 5 and i recently started 6 but im waiting to complete 5 before i go on with beating it, yknow?? just know that if im following u and ur following me back, that means i am interested in writing and interacting and this is an invitation for u to bother me or slide into my inbox or dms to talk!!! i love u

Tagged by: stolen bc im a filthy filthy thief Tagging: steal it !

#long post //#DASH GAMES TAG .#( 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 )!! ooc. 🐍#again i got no mun fc but H

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aura-creed · 5 years

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Bendy and Boris along with their pals Cuphead and Mugman are searching for the long fabled Ink Machine, a machine rumored to be the only known cure for ink illness. Bendy with the illness, finding his days numbered, goes off in search of the missing machine pieces. One piece in particular is caught in a certain jesters cage... -Read here under ‘read more’, or view it on AO3!

Past a curtain of willows, away from the winding road, a set of doors stood tall above the brine of the bog. There were no structures to accompany such a door, no windows or walls to act as a guardian to. Just a dripping, salt-streaked bottom rim and carved decals in varying shades of purple. The centerpiece was the same in both doors -- bars shaped to mark each suite of the cards. Around the edges they seemed to be painted black, but directly behind them the color darkened, almost as if there was something more than just paint there. The decorative wooden slabs were joined by a gray stone glyph in the middle, out of place with the markings on the rest of the door. Squared edges held a carved inner circle with a clown as its centerpiece. The fool's hat was two-pronged with bells on either end, but they did nothing to detract from the hollow eyes or the spiked teeth that eclipsed the span of their grin... Cuphead wasn’t sure if it was from the depiction of the clown itself or the sudden chill in the air that made him shiver as he adjusted his long coat to compensate. He didn't remember it being so cold a moment ago. “Kinda creepy.” His brother Mugman nodded in agreement as he pulled his scarf up to his chin, his breath visible in the frigid air. “Oi! You guys find it?” They turned to see Bendy and his brother Boris trudging through the bog to reach them. Cuphead stifled a laugh as he watched the short demon, waist deep in water, twist his whole body just to get his legs to push through the muck. Bendy’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Cuphead. “There something you wanna say, tea cup?” His tail flicked above the water, a warning if Cuphead ever saw one. He snorted, not even caught off guard by the insult as he looked to Bendy. “C-Coming up short there?” Boris had to quickly grab his brother before he even tried to jump at him and Cups howled with laughter. The wolf sighed. “Ya know Bendy, I can just carry you over this…” They’d been walking for a good hour in the grime and Bendy had been the slowest out of all of them due to circumstances outside of his control. A lot of time had been wasted due to the demon’s own stubbornness and pride in the matter. “I’ve already told you bro, I’m fine.” He crossed his arms, looking to Boris, annoyed that his younger brother kept asking. “I’ve gotten through this just fine so far. S’not like the water’s that deep.” Boris sighed, ears falling back. “Yeah… I figured you were going to say that.” Again. He didn’t know why he bothered. He adjusted his pack, eyes going towards the purple door and his ears perked right back up. “Oh! It looks like you guys did find it!” Bendy turned to the doors as well, giving out a low whistle. “This thing?” His gaze turned to the glyph and he pursed his lips. “Yeesh, that is creepy. Is that supposed to be a clown?” “Yeah, it looks like one.” Mugs spoke up, muffled by his scarf. “I didn’t think any clown was creepier then Beppi..” “Relax Mugs.” Cuphead nudged his brother, hand waving to the door. “Even if there is a clown in there and they’re scary lookin, it won’t be that bad. We’ve fought weirder, we got this.” Mugs nodded, although his gaze still held a hint of doubt.

Boris frowned. “Let’s just hope it isn’t the size of a giant.” Bendy grimaced, water sloshing as he made his way towards the door. “The last thing we need is a giant clown added next to the giant mermaid.” He didn’t even want to be reminded of that ordeal, or what followed it. Nightmare night could stay a nightmare as far as he was concerned. Head tilting as he looked up at the glyph, he shuffled, arm stretching as he reached and reached. He was on his tip toes when he noticed Cup and Mugs -- and even Boris, the traitor! -- laughing. He growled in frustration, turning back to the three snickering questers with a glare. “Knock it off, will ya!” Boris was trying to put the map away, giggles subsiding as he struggled to keep his backpack out of the water. “Sure you don’t need any help?” Bendy slapped a hand to his chest, looking insulted. “No, I don’t need any help.” He huffed, turning back to the door as he jumped to try and tap the glyph. It didn’t work. Cuphead snickered, shaking his head as he walked over to the little devil. “Stop being so stubborn.” Narrowed eyes would have met the Cups if they hadn’t been so intent on staring at the glyph in front of him. “I got -- tHiS!?” Bendy squacked, flailing as Cuphead picked him up from around the waist, holding him up to face the door. “Oh no,” Boris started to move forward, reaching out. “Cuphead I wouldn’t--” “See? Now you can reach--” The smirk gracing the Cup’s features was wiped off in a resounding oof! Bendy, true to form, had squirmed, kicking right into the Cups’ chest in retaliation. The demon hit the glyph from the punch-back, but he’d succeeded in his intentions: getting the blasted dishware to let go of him. He wasn’t entirely expecting the cup to fall back-first into the water, but it was a bonus. The splash hit Boris, however, and Mugs managed to jump out of the way of most of it. Boris gave an exasperated whine, ears dripping. “Beeennnddyy!” “What?!” He threw his arms up. Behind him, the circle in the stone twisted and turned, gouging into the rock. “We’ve been over this! Nobody picks me up, ever, no way!” “Cussing stars…” Cuphead got up, Mugs helping him as he came over, giving the other a hand as he coughed. “You don’t do that when the cat picks you up.” “T-That’s different!” Bendy’s tail flicked, his face turned red. “And he doesn’t just carry me without warning either, so as far as I’m concerned, you deserved that! Don’t--” The door clicked as the symbol stopped turning. Boris’s eyes turned to the door, his one ear twitching towards the sound. “Pick--” the glyph started to shake as it slid over to the side, the pair of doors creaking as they pulled apart. “Me--” They fell inwards with a clack behind Bendy and he jumped, “--Up!?” he squeaked, turning around to take in purple tile and darkness that fell around the corridor like a shroud. He blinked. The doors weren’t connected to anything… how did..? They all flinched back when flames erupted on the walls, blue fire lapping at the ceiling as it seemed to tempt them further inside. Magic. Bendy slapped his forehead and then dragged his hand down his face. It always had to be magic. He turned towards the others, previous argument forgotten. “Well, let’s go then.” He climbed up the edge of the walkway with little difficulty, wringing his tail out as the others followed. Cuphead messed with his hair, realizing some of the salty water had managed to get into his head. He glared at the little devil who only gave a cheeky grin in return.

It was only a couple steps in when the doors slammed shut with a resounding boom. The outside light faded as said doors vanished. All that was left was the violet tile of the floors, the walls, and the blue torches that lit their way forward. Boris’s ears were tilted back onto his head. Bendy patted his shoulder. “Eh, don’t sweat it too much. Bound to be another exit somewhere.” He hoped. They walked in silence for a time, the torches erupting into blue flame as they approached or going out with a puff of smoke as they continued forward.

It didn’t take them long to find what looked to be prison cells. The ends of the bars were made of hearts, and above the bars was a consistent pattern of spades, diamonds, hearts, and clovers. The place had cracks spidering up and down the wall and the paint on some decals seemed to be fading away revealing the stone underneath. With Boris’s near-constant sneezing, it was evident that no one had been there for sometime. But that wasn’t the strangest part of it. As soon as the rear of their little group had pushed forward a wall behind them slammed down, blocking them in once again. All the torches lit up simultaneously as the strains of a discordant song filtered through the halls.

Mugman’s eyebrows rose. “Is this a circus?”

“Does it look like a cussing circus?” Cuphead asked incredulously. Bendy walked up to the closest cell, his brother walking by him to look around. “Man, even my cell back in Toon Town was nicer than these…” He peered through the bars at a stone slab that made up a bench, eyes flickering to the shackles on the wall. They looked rusted and heavily worn. He shook his head, mumbling. “Feels like we’re walking into a cussing dungeon more than a prison..” They got to a junction when Boris stopped behind them. Bendy turned. “Boris?” The wolf had his hands up to his nose, grimacing. “Something smells rotten,” he muttered through his fingers. He then pointed down the corridor to the left. “Down there. It’s really, really bad.” Bendy turned his head down the way, sniffing the air. Yeah, he had nothing, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Cuphead’s mouth twist. “You smell it?” “Kind of? It’s really faint.” Mugman turned to the kid. “Golly! You can smell that? How strong is it?” “Like I’m in a room with Pete.” Bendy snorted at the remark. “I have no idea what it is.” Cuphead shook his head, frowning. “Probably better if you don’t find out.” He tugged on Mugman’s arm to drag him along. “We’ll go down this way. You guys take the other route.”

“Is that really safe?” Boris’s ears flattened against his head. “Eeh don’t worry about them. They can handle themselves.” Bendy winked as Boris groaned. He looked back towards the brothers, calling out, “Don’t get lost!”

He didn’t need to see Cuphead to hear the disgruntled tone in his voice. “You first, shorty!” Bendy scowled. Boris chuckled beside him before throwing his thumb back towards the hall. “Come on Bendy, let’s go this way.” “Yeah yeah…”

___

“Are you sure they’re going to be ok?” “They’ll be fine, you taught Boris how to fight, remember?” Cuphead stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well… yeah, but-” “Besides, we’ve been teachin’ them well enough and Bendy’s learning how to use that weird bigger form of his. Sort of.” He still wasn’t sure if Bendy could enact it willfully without Hat’s help. He shrugged. “If Boris can’t handle the fighting yet, he can.” Mugman sighed. “Why’d we take the path with the weird smell, then?” “Cause.” Cuphead spoke, pulling out a cigar. “Smells like a corpse.” Mugman sputtered. “Smells like a -- what!” “We’ve seen corpses before. Made too many to count.” He scowled. “Bendy’s seen one. But… I don’t think Boris has seen something like that.” And that’s the last thing he wanted the kid to ever see. Boris shouldn’t have to deal with any of this, as young as he was, and yet... “Golly…” Mugman sniffed the air. “Eugh… it does smell gross. Hopefully it’s not that.” Cuphead hummed, lighting the cigar with his finger. He took a puff, blowing a ring out. His shoulders relaxed. “Eeeh even if it is, we should be closer to whatever killed it than they are.” Hopefully. He was betting on it, anyway. “Wait… You purposely took the toughest route?” Mugman raised a brow. “You?” “W-What?” Cuphead looked towards him, scowling. “Our whole life’s been nothing but a cussin’ roller coaster, how is this anything new?” Mugman narrowed his eyes and smirked. Cuphead could feel the stare creep up his neck and looked away. “And you said I was going soft. I thought you wanted to be more distant than that, hmm?” Cuss. “S-Shaddup.” Was he that easy to read? He was losing his touch. “We’ll think of something, right?” Mugs smiled. Hope bled from that smile, a smile Cuphead knew was in spite of their separate stances and his shoulders drooped. “Cup?” His brother was willing to turn his back on him and everything they’d worked on for those brothers. It made his head hurt thinking about it. “Yeah..” His voice was soft and he let the silence linger longer as he took another puff. They’d figure it out. They’d have too. “Hey, have you… noticed anything off about Bendy?” “Off?” Mugs’s brows furrowed. “Off how? You don’t think--” “No no, not that. He just… I don’t know. With the ‘demon puberty’ thing and whatever the cuss Hat put in that contract, with what the Boss wants us to do if stardust goes sour -- which it won’t.” He looked pointedly at Mugs. He’d make sure it wouldn’t go that way. “But with Bendy it’s not the exhaustion he just seems…” Cups scrunched his nose up. “Ugh, yeah ok that is rotting flesh.” “Wow, nice subject change--” Cuphead shoved his brother. “Shaddup.” Mugs laughed.

_____

Bendy huffed, tail swishing behind him as they searched around the prison. The halls continued to criss-cross, leading to more and more cells and Bendy was starting to wonder if they could get lost before the pattern shifted and they entered a big room. At the end was a decorated entrance leading to what seemed to be nothing and off to the side were portable, mini cages decked in red and gold -- the kind you’d see animals in before arriving to a circus. They were filled with bones. Bendy sighed in relief that it was just bones but Boris whimpered. The demon frowned, pulling on his brother’s wrist as he walked him through the room. “Come on, don’t look at em.” They’d seen bones before. He would have thought Boris would’ve been used to... Well... Ok, maybe he was glad his brother hadn’t gotten used to hopefully ancient bones yet. They made it to the end, peering down the staircase. Bendy squinted -- he couldn’t make out the bottom -- but then the torches lit up, the ones in the prison going dark, and he could distinctly hear a squawk from one of the brothers far behind him. Boris jumped, turning back but Bendy kept looking down the stairs, his eyes narrowing. How far did they go down..? “B-Bendy, maybe we should check on them..” Boris fiddled with his bandana. “Nah they’ll be fine, remember? They got flashlights for fingers.” Bendy waved away Boris’s worry, starting down the stairs. “Come on -- that piece might be down here.” Boris’s shoulders sagged but he pulled out his pipe and followed. The glow from the torches seemed to light up the walls more than the stairs. Their footsteps echoed, overlapping on the previous until the sound was all around them. They went down and down the winding staircases. The torches lit up one final time when they reached the bottom and Bendy froze. “Bars..?” Boris walked forward, staring up at the bars that blocked their path. He pulled at them, humming. “I don’t see a…” The bars formed a gate and creaked open. “...door.” Boris slowly finished.

Motes of dust floated by like eye-catching sparks. Purple tile reached into the darkness and vanished. Bendy could smell the fear his brother was giving off beside him. It made him pause. Boris whimpered. “I’ll go in first, Boris.” Bendy turned, resting a hand on his brothers shoulder. He gave a smile he hoped was reassuring. Boris furiously shook his head. “W-We should go get Cups and Mugs.” Bendy sighed, shoulders drooping as he moved his hand from his brother’s shoulder. He went to step inside but Boris grabbed his arm, ears flushed down on his head. “Bendy…” “I’ll be fine, Boris.” They couldn’t just avoid this -- the map was insisting the piece was in here somewhere, and where else would it be if not towards the obvious danger? But Boris was giving him those eyes, determined yet afraid, and his resolve melted. “Ok, let’s grab those guys first.” Boris gave a relieved sigh. But then as they moved to go towards the stairs, they found themselves face-to-face with the bars they’d turned away from. The gate closed with a resounding clack.

“What!” Bendy whipped around as the lights lit up around them. Boris raised his pipe. There was a pillar in the center, raising to a canopy above the whole area. Bendy narrowed his eyes at the poles littered around the circular room. Some broken, some reaching to the top. He couldn’t even tell if the room had walls, or a ceiling beyond the gaps in the canopy. The song that filtered throughout the place seemed to be louder in here. Nothing showed up, and yet the air was distinctively colder. He could have sworn he caught a speck of gold out of the corner of his eye but whenever he turned it was gone. The shadows felt more alive, and darker than they usually were. They weren’t even moving. They just felt more… there. And he wasn’t even using his talent. He knew his brother must have felt it too -- the pressure from them.

“Boris,” Bendy whispered. Boris was shaking like he had been on nightmare night. His ear twitched. “Run to the gate when I say go.” “What?” Boris frowned, glancing down at his brother. “I’m not leaving you here, I-I can’t just--” “Get out, grab the two morons and bring them back here. Tell them there’s another demon down here.” Boris’s eyes widened. “T-There’s a demon? You can’t be--”

“LO AND BEHOLD…” A voice echoed throughout the room. Boris jumped. Bendy shivered as the shadows swirled viciously around them. His eyes flickered to Boris as a spike of fear wedged itself into his heart. He needed to get his brother out of here. With a jingle, a form hopped down, eye level with Bendy from across the room. A jester's hat and attire greeted them, a cape sifting across tile as his feet touched ground. "TWO VISITORS OUTSIDE? OHO..." A spiked toothy grin spread from ear to ear. His skin was as gray as death. “Boris. Go. Now.” The urgency in Bendy's voice was punctuated in a low hiss. His gaze never left that of the jester's.

“N-No. I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Now wasn’t the time to start acting brave! Bendy moved to stand in front of Boris. This guy looked exactly like the symbol on the door. Did he have the piece like Cala did before? Or was he just some sort of guardian like the snake had been?

His tail flicked. There was no mistaking it. The darkness, the cold… It was like Hat’s, but worse. This demon was the reason there wasn’t a hint of warmth in the room. Bendy was half expecting his breath to visibly puff out into the air but it didn’t. The air was growing sweet with the smell of fear and he grimaced, eyes briefly flickering to his brother. The poor wolf was trembling. Bendy’s hands clenched into fists as he stared straight ahead. “Boris the Wolf you get to that gate right now, you hear me?”

The jester tilted his head, watching them. “BOO HOO, HOW CAN YOU LEAVE WITH THE CURTAIN ALREADY DRAWN?” The demon bowed. Shadows started to dance along the walls. “I’M THE JEVIL.” Bells jingled as he popped back up. “HAVE YOU COME TO BE FREE, FREE?” “We’ve come to leave, leave thank you very much!” Bendy shouted back at him. He could hear Boris finally moving behind him and he let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. It was about time the wolf finally listened to reason.

The Jevil’s grin only seemed to widen. “YOU’RE LOOKING FOR THE PIECE.” Bendy froze. “FOR INK ILLNESS TO CEASE. CHAOS HAS TOLD ME MUCH OF YOU, SURFACE DWELLERS.” “Well great, you know why we’re here then!” Bendy threw his arms up into the air. “You know where it is? We’ll take it and be on our merry cussing way!” “I JUST WANT TO SHOW A PLAY, PLAY!” The jester hopped from foot to foot as he spun around. “BUT THE BORING ONES FOUND SUCH FUN TO BE A TROUBLE. AS PUNISHMENT, THEY CRAVED TO IMPRISON MY BODY. BUT I'M FAST, FAST, CLEVER, CLEVER. THEY LOST THE TRAIL, AND LOCKED UP THEIR ENTIRE TALE, BUILDING A PRISON AROUND THE WHOLE WORLD. NOW I'M THE ONLY FREE ONE.” “Get to the point!” Bendy growled. Jevil grinned. “SHALL YOU ACT IN THIS PLAY WITH ME, ME...? I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT IT MEANS TO BE FREE!”

“Cuss no!” The Jevil’s grin widened past the corners of his eyes. Bendy glowered but then noticed the smell of fear vanish completely. His eyes widened. It hadn’t even faded, it’d just disappeared as if it were never there. He spun around. The gate was gone -- the bars had been replaced by the nothingness that seemed to surround the span of the place, and his brother was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t even heard him get the gate open -- he knew his brother hadn’t made it out by himself -- and now the whole previous room was gone! What the cuss! “YOU CAME TOO FAR! YOUR CHOICE HAS RUN OUT!”

Bendy ran to where the gate had been, hands reaching towards darkness but he met no resistance. “No way…” Magic, it was always magic. He’d barely even started his lessons with the cussing schtick and here it was, practically laughing in his face, and now his brother was missing because of it. “BORIS!” Where the cuss did his brother go? Where the starfallen cuss did his brother go?

“BOO HOO!” The Jevil mock cried, hands going to his eyes as he frowned. However, the corners of his mouth were turned up, and his frame shook, as if trying to hold in laughter. “BOO HOO HOO, UHE HE HE.”

Bendy growled, his eyes flashing red. “What’d you do?!” What did this schmuck do with his brother? Jevil grinned as the floor shook and started to spin. “YOU WHO WISH TO TURN BACK, HOW CAN YOU?” Bendy stumbled but caught himself. He looked up to see the whole room was spinning like some twisted carousel. The Jevil was now standing in midair, a wicked looking blade resting in his hands. Were those teeth on the edge..? Bendy didn’t have time to think about it as the demon laughed and flung it at him. He ducked. It missed him by a hair and stuck itself into the darkness before merging with the shadows. He turned his head, eyes meeting a barrage of the blades. Even the Jevil’s arm had turned into one, and he had it raised up high. “WHEN YOU’VE ALREADY STARTED READING, YOU WANT TO SEE THE END. YOU WANT TO KNOW, KNOW!” “What the cuss is wrong with you?!” Bendy snarled, jumping to dodge some of the incoming blades as he grabbed at the shadows with his talent. They writhed excitedly as they were allowed to take form and he smacked back the last blade. It twirled in the air, end over end before falling, smacking edge first into the ground. “What the starfallen cuss did you do to my brother? Huh??” If this demon hurt Boris in anyway so help him... “CHAOS, CHAOS!” Bendy blinked, squinting. The demon seemed to jump back and forth, almost in double image as spades and diamonds came flying out from the darkness. He felt a tugging at his chest but he tried to ignore it as the shadows wrapped around him, propelling him away from the projectiles. Normally, he’d be put off by the way they were wriggling, thirsty to rip into the demon but with his brother gone, possibly hurt, somewhere he couldn’t get to him? As far as Bendy was concerned, the shadows’ attitude was exactly what he needed right now to get out of there -- to find him. “That’s not an answer!” Thoughts started rushing through his head. What if Boris was hurt? What if the demon had sent the wolf into a death pit somewhere? Poles sprung up from above and below him. Horses made of energy buckled and shoved into him -- through him -- and he huffed, feeling something cut him in his core and he gripped his chest. “Ugh!.. You..!” “YOU SPIN A WEB OF DECEPTION IN YOUR LITTLE BUBBLE OF LIES, LIES, LIES!” Jevil vanished, appearing behind Bendy as he shoved him towards the middle. All around he started appearing, seemingly spitting out spades and diamonds, his tongue extending to seemingly impossible lengths as laughter echoed from everywhere and nowhere. Bendy’s head was starting to spin, but it wasn’t just from the confusion. When had the music changed? He growled. “Sunblazing scum!” Bendy’s voice echoed, deep and guttural. Some of the diamonds caught him on the side, hurting him without showing physical injury and he winced as his anger boiled. He could almost feel it on his skin. How dare he take Boris away! How dare he not tell him where he is! How dare he. The shadows curled excitedly and the darkness swirled around him, spurring him onward. He let the shadows act out when they could, smacking this way and that when the Jevil would reappear. Bendy could feel them coiling around his feet, wanting to reach through him, to cause more carnage. It reminded him again of what they were like back at the warehouse all those months ago -- how bloodthirsty they had been. He breathed in. He knew what they wanted to do. He let them. It was like taking a big stretch, his body felt like it was uncurling even as he felt his gloves ripping and his horns growing. His eyes opened and suddenly everything stood out like a sore thumb. Crystal clear, every sound, every hint of laughter, the horses and now ducks on the carousel sprung forward. Some raised up and others charging right at him and he managed to thread the needle, jumping between them as the shadows writhed. The Jevil came out clapping and Bendy turned.

He couldn’t feel the cold in the room anymore. “BRAVO, BRAVO!” Jevil ducked as Bendy threw a broken up pole right past his head like a javelin. His grin only widened. “YOU’VE FOOLED THOSE IN THE CAGE AND EVEN THE GUIDE! WHAT FUN WHAT FUN! HOW FAR DOES THE RABBIT HOLE GO? DO TELL!” Bendy was able to grab him, pulling the toon up by the scruff of his collar. A hand raised, claws steadily growing sharper. His eyes flashed, whites now black as he bared his teeth. “Where. Is. My. Brother.” He didn’t recognize his own voice anymore, but that knowledge was only a drop of a thought as it got swept away by the torrent of his swirling mind. Jevil just grinned, big and toothy. His eyes glowed a golden color. Spots of a similar color started to rise around them as the shadows danced along the walls. “HOW FAR HAVE YOU FOOLED YOURSELF?” Jevil gripped his arm. Despite not having any leverage he was able to spin them, spin and spin until Bendy was in a room rimmed with black sludge and yellowed wood. It was a disorienting feeling and Bendy lost his balance, grunting as he hit the splintered wood that had replaced the tile. “WHO KEEPS SPINNING THE WORLD AROUND?” For a brief moment Bendy could feel his head clear. His ears rang. He stood groggily. Inky matter dripped to the ground, but he didn’t feel any pain. Each droplet started writhing as it hit the boards, seeping into cracks in the floorboards. The smell of ink filled his nose, the black liquid reminding him of the corrupting rivers from Holly’s head. It entrenched them to a platform he was surprised was still standing at all, with how old everything looked. The ceiling above him was falling inward with obvious holes in it, and yet no sunlight showed through.

“I CAN DO ANYTHING!” The Jevil re-appeared along with the music and Bendy stumbled, his eyelids feeling heavy. He put a hand to his head. He hadn’t the sense to speak before Jevil was once again shouting. “MY HEARTS GO OUT TO ALL YOU SINNERS!” Boxes with hearts on them started falling from the ceiling, exploding into deadlier hearts that surged at Bendy almost like bullets. He startled but the darkness powering him was quicker. It moved his body before the hearts even shot out of the boxes, causing him to jump around. He was even able to get in a swing at the Jevil himself, whose head only came up on a spring and bounced around. Jevil laughed and laughed. “TALENTED, BUT NOT SEEKING TALENT! HOW WILL YOU PUT ON YOUR OWN SHOW?” “What the cuss are you going on about??” Bendy swung at him again, his arm elongating to get a good swipe at him. “How else am I supposed to fight you?” Why was he even entertaining this zany demon’s line of thought? Could demons even be zany? “WITH YOUR TALENT, OF COURSE!” The jester’s head sprang back and forth before righting itself. He waved his arms, morphing them into blades as he started to spin. Bendy jumped over them each in turn, and tried to go for him but there were too many diamonds coming at him for him to get a hit in. “OR PERHAPS WITH YOUR WOLF PET? MINION GAMES ARE FUN, TOO!” Bendy snarled. “Sunblaze that!” This schmuck still wasn’t saying anything about what he did to his brother. His claws itched to tear into him. The shadows were writhing as they aimed for the clowns throat. They tore off the floor, smacking into Jevil and again his head fell away like a spring. A single eye glowed a dark purple color. “UEE HEE HEE! HAVING FUN? JOIN THE CLUB!” Bendy felt heat flaring in his core as he stared forward at the clown that had been the cause of all his troubles today. He was boiling, lips pulling from teeth as he snarled. The Jevil only giggled, twirling as he morphed into a knife. “EVEN DEVIL’S KNIFE IS SMILING!” “I’ll wipe that smile off your sunblazing face!” Low and guttural, Bendy didn’t wait for him to move and pounced. The ink around them bubbled as it poured down from the walls.

____ “Berries!” Mugs was bent over laughing. His brother had squealed just from the lights having gone out. It was priceless and he’d only seen half of the reaction. “W-What was that noise for?” “Stick a lid on it!” Cuphead was scowling beside him, a snap of his hand and his finger lit up the now darkened halls around them. “Wasn’t expecting it, was all.” “You sounded like a b-bird!” Mugs howled. He hadn’t heard his brother sound that startled since they were kids living in the woods. It was like they were still young and innocent and Cuphead got scared by a squirrel again. Cup’s elbowed him. “Would you quit it? The morons might have found something.” That sobered Mugs up real quick. He snapped his own finger, the hall lighting up around them twice as bright. “Something bad?” “Maybe. Might have been the part too. Maybe it was powering the lights on in the place?” Cup hummed, squishing the end of his cigar against the wall before tossing it. “What about the smell?” Mugs raised a brow, watching as his brother turned back. “You said it smells like a corpse, so… Something must have made it, right? Assuming it is a corpse.” He really hoped it wasn’t. “You sure you just wanna leave it?” It might come back to bite them later if they didn’t deal with it now. Cup grimaced. He sighed. “...You think--” “I believe in them.” Mugman said, assured. Boris had really been improving with the pipe and Bendy was also getting to be a good fighter. They both learned extraordinarily quick -- at least by Mug’s standards. He had to admit he was a bit jealous at them learning stuff that took him and his brother weeks in comparison. Cuphead looked at him, staring for a bit and Mugman was about to ask about it when he finally spoke up. “Fine. We’ll keep going, for now. Just… no more humming.” “What?” Mugman pouted. “The tune’s catchy. We should go to a carnival sometime, yeah?” “No, it’s not.” Cuphead frowned. “And no. Really, Mugs, sometimes you act like a…” he paused. Mugman stopped walking. “Act like a what?” He frowned. He was calling him a kid again, wasn’t he? He wasn’t that childish! “Shh!” Cuphead shushed him and he shut up. He listened but couldn’t quite hear anything… That is, until he noticed what was happening with the music. It was getting lower, the tones warping and distorting before cutting out completely into static.

“The.. ah.. record died?” Mugman gave a nervous grin. “...Maybe,” Cuphead furrowed his brows. “Think it’s nothing?” “Probably not.” It was then a roar echoed throughout the halls as if it consumed the whole area. It shook the floors, the walls, and they both had to anchor themselves to a wall or risk falling over. The scream felt like it was rattling their ceramic before it stopped and the dust settled. The static had cut out completely at this point. He and his brother looked at each other and paled.

Cuphead turned around. “Don’t got a choice anymore.” He started running back. “We don’t know what’s happened now.” Mugs followed, speeding up to catch up to his brother. “What on earth do you think that was?” Something that was that loud… It sounded familiar but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it... “Don’t know, we’ll figure it out when we get there.” Cuphead sighed, mumbling, “Better be cussing ok. Making us turn back and risk getting hounded later by the real monster for cussing nothing, I swear…” Mugs raised a brow, smirking. He was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear that last part. His brother was starting to get a lot more open about how much he liked the crew. Not just Bendy and Boris either, but everyone. Apologizing, worrying about making people upset… It was a turn for the better. His brother kept returning more and more to his old self. Minus the rage induced blackouts, at any rate. Maybe... The roar sounded again, more distant still. He’d think about it later. _____ Bendy swiped at the demon, arm stretching to reach and the Jevil moved back in a swift motion and giggled. “WHAT A SHARK!”

Hours. It’d felt like hours. He growled. Energy seemed to course through his veins despite the haze in his mind, but he could no longer tell if it was the shadows or the adrenaline that spurred him forward. His chest ached even through his shadows so he knew it wasn’t from his illness. It felt ominous but he couldn’t focus on the feeling for long. Hearts, spades, and diamonds flew out from all directions and he had to dodge them, moving when he could and dodging still when he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure how -- he should have gotten hit a number of times but he hadn’t. He felt funny. He shook his head and snarled, trying to clear his thoughts. “Get down here, you sunblazing--” The Jevil had started dancing around almost in mirror image. He’d been doing that for the last couple of rounds now, and Bendy couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the eyes or not. “WOLF PET HAD A NAME, RIGHT?” Bendy paused, his eyes honing in on Jevil. “WAS IT FOOD? MEATLOAF?” “He’s not food.” Bendy took a step forward. “HEE HEE! WHAT A GLORIOUS DARKENING!” The Jevil danced around in mid air. “YOU WERE FUN LIKE THIS TOO, AT THE START. BECAUSE OF THE PUP?” Bendy didn’t do anything but the Jevil only giggled louder. “MAYBE I SHOULD BRING THE PUP BACK TO PLAY, TOO! THE MORE THE MERRIER!” “You touch him and you’re dead.” He took another step forward. Everything was tinted red.

The Jevil only grinned. Hollow eyes blending with the darkened room and suddenly he was gone. “MAYBE HE’D MAKE A GOOD SNACK.” The voice sounded just behind Bendy. Something snapped and he whirled around, claws molded and sharpened in an instant as they pierced through flesh. A squelch and a breath. He could feel his fingers sticking through ribs and tapping spine. The glee from the shadows excited him as he dropped the form and flicked the blood off the tips of his claws. The silence was welcoming as he gave a passing glance to the clown laying still on the floor. “Good riddance.” He took a step away, his eyes scanning around briefly as he tried to find an exit when laughter started to echo around the room. Bendy growled. “Oh, come on!” “WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT IS THERE, BUT WHAT YOU’VE DONE? WELL, FAIR IS FAIR!” “Again with this?!” Bendy growled, scanning the shadows. “Enough with the riddles!” “OVER HERE!” Bendy jumped, turning around but all that was left was the body, limp on the ground. The smile on the Jevil twitched before the head turned, eyes glowing the same purple from before. Then he melted. Darkness fell away, revealing a trembling form with fluffy ears and a snout. It whimpered. Bendy’s voice came out as a croak, when he saw who it was. “Boris..?” The same whimper met his ears and he ran over, dropping to his knees. Claws tapped the ground to either side of him and he could see himself shaking as he wrapped his arms underneath the wolf and pulled him into his lap.

A numbing cold swept over him. What had he done?

“Boris…? Boris, i-it’s going to be ok, I’ll get-- I’ll get help.” Boris coughed up blood. It dribbled down his chin, staining fur. “I’ll -- I’ll get Black Hat.” He grit his teeth. “We’re supposed to be connected, somehow. I’ll -- I’ll call him, he can get us back quickly, and, and then--” Eyes looked up at him, tearing and clouded. Boris shook underneath of him before giving a broken breath and a shudder. Then the wolf went limp. Bendy froze, staring.

“YOU CAN DO ANYTHING TOO, EVEN THINGS YOU DON’T WANT TO DO.”

Dulling eyes stared up at the ceiling, blood was turning his shirt completely red. Ribs were projected upward and torn. A heart laid shredded in the chest cavity -- a cause for the blood pooling everywhere, draining from the face, leaving him pale -- Boris. He… Bendy wasn’t stupid. He did this. He lost control. He did exactly what he was always afraid was going to happen, that he had tried to convince himself he’d never do but he did. The darkness he felt, the fledgling moments, the shadows… He killed his brother. A shaky hand reached to touch his muzzle. He killed his brother, he murdered his brother, he was a murderer, Boris was dead, Boris was dead and he was never coming back. “ARE YOU FREE NOW, INK DEMON?” Was it hot in there? It was getting harder to see. His brother’s face was blurring out but he still managed to run his fingers over his cheeks. He tried to breathe in but he couldn’t seem to get enough air, his chest was heaving, his eyes and lungs were burning he couldn’t-- “B-Boris?” His voice was soft, crackling and his throat hurt. It hurt to talk. His limbs felt heavy. He mouthed the next words but he couldn’t even hear himself speak. Everything was getting blurry. “H-Hey… wake up,” He couldn’t think anymore. “W-Who’s my wittle wolfy?” He paused, waiting, seeing if anything would happen, if he’d start breathing again, anything. This couldn’t be happening. Then the whispers started. He didn’t know where they came from. You did this. Monster. You stole a life, you did this. I believed in you. You betrayed them all. Dreams never come true. You’ll never be able to control it. Murderer. You’re alive, you’ll kill them all, then you’ll die. An image of his brother floated to the forefront of his mind, completely blanking him out to the one laying in his arms. Boris smiled. “Bendy!” A wail, shaking the floorboards and shuddering across waves of inky blackness, ripped through the room and back through the walls as it forced everything to shudder with the force of it all. Scratchy and guttural and full of dismay. The black sludge that echoed particles of gold slithered towards him, reaching for him as he screamed and screamed. Short breaths and broken calls turned to hisses and howls. The inky blackness covered him, raising him up, building him up, as the shadows fell into him. Heat and power. What was he doing…? He was protecting something, wasn’t he...? Ah, that’s right. It was gone now. He felt his throat as hot as embers, bubbling up like spitfire. Bloodlust and a new kind of internal fire fueled him. He wanted to destroy everything.

_____

They were in front of the cell gate when the lights reignited. They whooshed, blue fire lapping at the ceiling before returning to a normal height. Cuphead didn’t even flinch as he lowered his finger. He tsked. “Morons made it down here and didn’t even come get us… What are we, chopped liver?” He gestured to the open gate, waving his hands as he looked to Mugman. “Look at this! Does this not scream ‘don’t walk in here’ or what?” He slapped a hand to his forehead. “God, it’s like we’re in some cussing horror show or something!” “W-Well… Maybe it wasn’t open when they got down here?” Mugman frowned. “There’s so much dust down here you can see their footprints. You didn’t notice that they never walked past it?” “That’s beside the point.” Cuphead huffed. He had to explain this to his own brother? Really? “You can clearly see footsteps on the other side.” “And that doesn’t concern you even a little bit?”

“I didn’t say it didn’t.” “You haven’t said it has yet, either.” Cuphead scowled. He scuffed his feet against the floor. Dust billowed. “Look, we clearly have two options. Walking in there ourselves, or trying to go back and see if they went anywhere else.” He raised a brow. “Which would you rather do?” Mugman’s shoulders slumped. “You said it yourself earlier.” He walked past Cuphead and through the gate. “We don’t have a choice.” Well, they were really doing this. Walking into the most obvious trap in the world. He was going to need a drink after this. Cuphead walked past the gate. It clanged behind him, and he knew without having to look that they were locked in. The music kicked back up again, louder than it was in the halls. He raised his hand, finger glowing. He froze -- almost literally. His breath wafted in the air and within the darkness of the room part of the floor was frozen over. The heaviness was akin to only one demon he knew of... “B-B-Boss..?” His brother said under his breath, hardly believing it. Cuphead didn’t. The aura made him feel like he was freezing but there was no way their boss would be there -- not in a million years -- or he’d had sent them to fetch the machine piece months ago. There’s no way he’d be here doing his lackey’s dirty work, but despite knowing that it didn’t stop the shiver that ran up his spine or the way his eyes darted around the room, as if searching for just that slight darkening of shadow… Expecting him to crawl out of hell just to lay into them about another mistake. Another failed mission. It made his skin crawl. He elbowed Mugs, snapping out of his frozen state enough to try and knock some sense into his brother. “Can’t be, you know this,” he said looking around, his eyes squinting into the dark room. Mugs pointed a finger into the darkness lighting the way. His eyes widened, his hands going up to cover his mouth. His brother looked paler than paper. “C-Cup--” Cuphead turned his head to look, willing his finger to brighten so he could see what the heck was going on. If his hand was an actual gun he would have dropped it. Laying on the floor, drenched in red, was Boris. Blood was smeared everywhere, on the floor, on his clothes -- it pooled in his chest cavity like still water. Ribs stretched out of his chest, as if violently torn and ripped into their protruding shape. His head was lulled to the side, marbled eyes staring back at Cuphead and reflecting the light off his blaster. It made him flinch back, eyes turning away, image forever burned into his mind. What… Where was…? Bendy wouldn’t have let this… Drip. Drip.

A low growl reverberated through the room. The brother’s eyes turned towards the source as claws tapped against tile. They had to look up. Dripping, hulking over them, was a giant demon. Arms big and holding it up, the lower half of its body looked like a useless decoration in comparison. Horns curved upwards, and swayed from side to side as it moved. Its chin was practically its jaw, with teeth that spanned upwards towards where its ears should be. They parted, blackness dripping from the maw as it roared. The brothers stood stock still. Air rushed by them, forcing them to cover their faces. The smell of ink washed over them. It filled the air and Cuphead stood dumbfounded, unable to take his eyes off the beast. Even as it swung at Mugman, getting within melee range, he didn’t move. His hair swayed from the force of the swing. His he turned his head to look at the giant arm, eyeing what amounted to spikes on each fingertip. “What are you doing! Run!” Mugs had already poofed to the other side of the room. Cuphead jolted, snapping out of it as he took a step back to be met with a puddle. Something was crawling up his leg and he made a choking sound, kicking off the ink— oh stars, was that a hand? — that seemed to try and grab him. He looked back, just to be met with razor-sharp claws aiming for his face. “Cup!” Cuphead raised his arms just in time to guard. He went flying, rolling across the floor. He grunted and got to his feet. “I’m fine!” He looked around, noticing then the ink that surrounded the platform they were on. Since when was the floor yellow and made of wood? Wasn’t it purple and tiled before? The sound of Mug’s shots popping onto the demon drew him out of his thoughts. “Great, well we need to do something about this thing!” Mug’s was gritting his teeth. “Wait, Mugs! Don’t-!” The demon growled and tore into the floorboards, throwing chunks at them. Cup quickly snapped as his finger gun came to life. He shot pieces out of the air that would have hit him before he aimed at the chunks of wood hurling at his brother. “That’s not what you think it is!” “It’s a beastling demon sent from hell, it’s dangerous! We need to--” “It’s Bendy!” Cuphead yelled. He paled when he saw the beast running at his brother. “Mugs, Mugs you need too--” Mug’s had also frozen, like he had at the realization and didn’t move even as Bendy smacked him into the wall. He seemed to snap out of it as his head cracked against wood, and his eyes widened before he poofed back onto solid ground, stumbling. “W-What?” He wheezed, holding his gut. “That’s Bendy? How—” “There’s got to be someone else in here.” There had to be. That had to be why Bendy had gone beastly. There was no way-- “RIGHT YOU ARE!” It came from just above him. Cuphead jumped out of the way just before a huge knife came down. Teeth -- literal teeth -- on the blade gnashed, as if disappointed they didn’t get to sink into flesh. The tip bit into the wood before being yanked out. Cup stared -- this was also a demon, but he was practically as small as the pipsqueak! His fists clenched. This guy caused all of this? A demon dressed up like he was at some kind of cussing carnival?! “You’re the sunblazing schmuck that did this!?” Cup whipped a hand behind him. His brother was preoccupied dealing with Bendy. He felt his blood boil. “You’re the dead man who killed Boris and made Bendy into hellspawn?!” “UEE HEE HEE! SO THAT’S HIS NAME!” The Jevil threw the blade up. It was swallowed by the shadows in the ceiling. He hopped from foot to foot. “HE DIDN’T WANT TO PLAY! THE PUP WAS NO GOOD AT TAG! OR WAS IT HIDE AND SEEK?” Jevil turned upside down, sticking his tongue out. His grin was as sharp as Bendy’s. “OH WELL! IT’S YOUR TURN NOW!” “You’re a demon, so you should know who we are!” Cuphead had his arms outstretched. “You fighting us is directly against the Devil’s orders! You really wanna get killed by your king? I thought you high lords had more sense than that!” Jevil only laughed and laughed. “KING, QUEEN, KNIGHT, ROOK, WHO’S THE MOST IMPORTANT PIECE IN THE BOOK?” A rock felt like it dropped into Cup’s gut. This guy wasn’t even slightly afraid of the king of demons? How had he managed to live this long? He thought his boss always managed to tie up loose ends like this, what the cuss? He raised his hand, “You leave me no choice!” and started shooting. “THE BISHOP STARTS TO DANCE!” Every single shot hit the jester, yet it didn’t seem to affect him at all— his head was springing back and forth on a spring. "IT'S SO EXCITING... I CAN'T TAKE IT!" The jester disappeared. Multiple clones of the demon showed up around him, spitting out diamonds and Cuphead had to jump up, dodging as many as he could but one managed to clip him. He staggered, gripping his chest. He scanned his body quickly but couldn’t see any new wound. That feeling..?! “Cup!” Mugs came running at him and he turned, his brother grabbing him before poofing back near Bendy. “Wh--” “We’re switching!” “What?!” He was just about to rail into him before he poofed away. Cuphead whipped his head around at the sound of a snarl. He had to jump back before Bendy’s fists came down on top of his head. The boards under them fractured and he was sent balancing on a plank now sticking up in the air, stuck in sludge. He waved his arms around. “Mugs!” He yelled back, and he paused, eyes focusing on his brother’s face. Was he crying..? Then he felt a beastial hand grip around him. It threw him up into the air. “Holy cuss--” The wind was knocked out of him as he hit the ceiling. He grunted, peeling himself off and as he fell he shot bullet after bullet at Bendy, who only growled in annoyance. “Dammit pipsqueak!” His voice cracked. “Don’t make me do this! I don’t want to but you’re not--” he ducked, a stray blade from the clown’s fight nearby flew past him, “helping!” All that met him in response was the demon running him down and he had to leap out of the way, rolling on the ground as Bendy crashed into a wall. He panted, sitting up. His hand clenched into a fist as he grit his teeth. “Dammit, dammit, damn it!” His fist hit the ground with each word. He told himself he wouldn’t let this happen and now look at this! The Devil was expecting them to kill Bendy and he just -- he couldn’t -- But then he thought of his brother, of him getting torn up, lying on the floor like Boris was. He ground his teeth. Their contracts swarmed in his mind and he stood back up. Well, if anything… this made the decision easier. Cuss. He shouldn’t have gotten attached. He snapped his finger, a yellow glow surrounding it and it started to glow brighter and brighter. He fired a charge shot just as Bendy was getting up. A bestial howl filled the air and shook the ground as Cup started charging another shot. He fired. It would have hit its mark too, had another shot not canceled it out halfway. He blanched, looking to Mugman. There must have been something on his face cause his brother almost jumped when he stared him down. “Mugs! What the hell!” “We’re not killing him!” Mugs shouted back, fists at his side. Was he serious? Cup grit his teeth. “You know what the boss said! I don’t know about you but that,” Cup threw a hand back, the beast was shaking his head off, “is about as beastly as it gets!” “I-I know!” Mugs grimaced. Oh, so he did remember they had to kill him if some stardust like this happened. “B-but we can’t!” “Mugs!” Cup groaned, running his hands over his face. He looked back. “Mugs I don’t want to do this either, but if we don’t--” “Cuphead, are you forgetting?” Mugs looked hurt. Cuphead looked harder and then realized there were tears welling up in his eyes. He was still crying? “We can’t! And because you need a starfallen reason to not kill your best friend--” Cuphead winced, “-- he’s the only one left that can read the map!” Any argument Cuphead had prepared died in his throat at that statement. Oh. Right. The other one... wasn’t an option anymore. He looked towards the ground, and then looked back up. His brother’s shoulders were slumped, eyes hard, but Cup knew better -- he knew that look. He’d only ever seen it a handful of times, after all.

“...Ok fine, we’ll try to snap him out of it.” Or do their damndest regardless. He didn’t know what they were going to do if they couldn’t get the demon to snap out of it. He’d think about it later. “Mugs!”

His brother poofed beside him, rubbing at his eyes. “We’re going to snap him out of it! No ‘trying’, only doing!” Cup rolled his eyes, smacking him on the shoulder. He was going to ignore that nitpicking. “Stop with the waterworks, Mugs, there’ll be time to mourn later,” His heart clenched a little. Oh god, they were going to have to explain that to Bendy, weren’t they? If he didn’t realize? He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked over. “What?” “Cup, I thought you said stop the waterworks?” Cuphead blinked. Oh, there hadn’t been something in his eye? Cuss. He shook his head. “Mugs: capture maneuver, go!” “Again,” Mugs gave his brother a half smile, his eyes flashing a bit of concern. “Nice subject change.” He poofed to the side, shooting bullets at Bendy. “Can it!” Cup’s shouted back at him, snapping his fingers. They changed to green as he fired his shots. If his regular ones only annoyed him he’d be surprised if these even got a reaction, but a reaction he got. Bendy shook and snarled, charging him down and he jumped, landing on Bendy’s head before jumping to his back. He had to hold onto the demon’s horns just to stay on, and he managed to snap his fingers back in sequence to yellow, charging another shot. If this didn’t do any damage to him earlier, well… Maybe it’d at least knock him out? He didn’t really have any other ideas, and he was having a hard time getting the demon to still as he was shaken around like he was at a rodeo. “Mugs!!” “Oh my god, it’s Beppi all over again!” Wait, what? Cuphead looked over, seeing the jester preventing his brother from getting over to him with… Were those horse ducks? On a carousel? What the cuss?

The distraction got him shaken off of Bendy, and he flailed, but was caught again by the demon. He was pinned against the wall and he felt and heard a crack coming from the back of his head. His vision swam with stars for a second before it cleared. He grunted, glaring face to face with the demon. Bendy didn’t even have eyes anymore. His horns stretched up taller then they ever had and flopped around with every move he made. His teeth were crooked and sharp -- almost sharper than the clown’s wicked smile. His jaw stretched up past where his ears should be. It was… disturbing. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him nervous. Blackness dripped from his maw and for a moment he wondered if Bendy could have been having an attack in that form. There was a crash, and it took several seconds for Cuphead to pinpoint where it came from. The room suddenly shifted from yellow to purple and Cuphead felt his head slump against the wall for an entirely different reason. He felt dizzy, almost as if he’d just woken up and had all the blood rush to his head. Was… he partially sinking into the wall? Was there even a wall? He tried to struggle but the demon had him good. Holy cuss, so this is how it was going to end: consumed by a cussing wall. He was half expecting someone to put it on his tombstone.

“BORIS?!” Mugman shouted from across the room, so loud it echoed. Cuphead whipped his head around, staring -- the gate had come back, and standing right by it was the wolf. Not dead, not maimed, not bleeding out on the floor. He felt his jaw drop. What in the ever-living hell was going on?!

___ He was wet. His fur was partially singed. He’d dropped his pipe somewhere in the hall where skeletons had attacked him. He was half-asleep on his feet and was planning on resting for just a little when the howling started. He’d bolted through the maze nearly blind just to get back there as fast as humanly possible. Nobody but his brother could have made that scream, no matter how distorted it was -- he didn’t know where the jester had sent him but he had to get back to Bendy, he needed to help his brother. He wasn’t even going to think about the fact that he fell down the stairs. Not right now. Not with the jester in the middle of what looked like a fight with Mugman and what he could only assume was his brother pinning Cuphead to a wall. Boris’s features were tense and suddenly they melted, his ears flattening against his skull. “B-Bendy…?” “Holy cuss Boris is alive!” Cuphead shouted. Boris’s ears twitched. Alive, what…? Of course he was alive! Aggravated and exhausted and desperately wanting a bath but definitely alive. “Boris!” He turned his head, seeing Mugman staring at him, eyes wide. He seemed frightened yet relieved in a way he hadn’t ever seen on the dishware. Were those… tears? “Boris, get out! Your brother’s gone beastly!” “H-Huh?” Boris blinked, looking towards his brother. Beastly... Where had... His eyes widened. “Oh no!” His brother had mentioned it before, back when Black Hat had told him about what being a fledgling meant, about this whole demon magic stuff. He’d remembered his brother being nervous -- still had been -- he… he hadn’t wanted anyone to get hurt. His eyes started to water, his hands going up to his muzzle. His brother… he went beastly? Oh no, he must be so scared… “Boris, Boris no!” Mugman tried to jump past the Jevil, but a carousel stampede met him and pushed him back to the far wall. “PIIP PIIP, LET'S RIDE THE CAROUSEL GAME!” The jester laughed. Boris thought he was weird but if his time with Bendy had caused this, well… Let’s just say the guy wasn’t on Boris’s nice list.

“Boris don’t--” Cuphead was speaking to him now. His brother turned to look at him, his horns flopping around. That was... new. Boris jumped across the moat of ink. It reached and tried to grab for him but he ducked and ran. He jumped up on tiles floating in the sludge where the floor had been smashed and over poles that had broken and fallen over, using the knowledge he had gained from all his years in the back alleyways to maneuver through the wreckage. He’d told himself this plenty a time over the course of their quest, but never was he more grateful he grew up homeless and starving then he was when he was running through the wreckage of a four-way battle between a clown, his brother, and two talking dishes. Ok, so maybe he never exactly worded it like that but it still counted. Bendy pulled Cuphead away from the wall, considering him for a moment before tossing him towards Mugman and Jevil. Boris could see out of the corner of his eye Cuphead crashing into Mugs. Ouch. He came to an abrupt stop, panting, in front of Bendy. The shadows seemed to be alive and he could see them moving all around. Bendy’s form was dripping inky matter everywhere. His teeth were huge, one looked to be the size of Boris’s finger, and he didn’t seem to have eyes. Huh. And… Boris peered, looking to see the stubbly legs attached to a huge body, broad shoulders and massive arms. Boris’s brows furrowed and he looked up at his brother, ears twitching. Bendy didn’t move. A loud, bubbly grumble came from his throat but he didn’t make a move. Boris took another step forward. He snarled. Boris gave a hesitant smile. “H-Hey,” Bendy howled, the room reverberating. Boris jumped, taking a step back, and he chastised himself for even slightly being afraid of his brother. He wouldn’t hurt him, he was sure of it. Not even like… this. Ink was starting to well up around the edges of the room. Glob like masses crawling up from the moat as they formed hands, and then dripping black stained faces. Glowing eyes met his and started to groan. “What the sunblazing…” Cuphead muttered, looking around as more of the inky creatures formed. Bendy stabbed his claws into the ground, vein like ink stretching into the boards as it dragged more of the creatures from the sludge. “HAVE FUN!” The Jevil danced away and vanished into thin air. Cuphead let loose a chain of curses. Boris was staring at the creatures, paws over his muzzle. What on earth were these…? Were they people? They groaned and twisted -- most of them didn’t even have legs. He backed away as one reached for him. They were really slow, but… they radiated almost the same feeling Bendy was giving off now… Boris felt an arm around his waist and he squeaked, struggling. “Calm down, it’s me!” “Mugs?” Boris yelped, struggling. “Put me down! I need to get to Bendy!” “Are you crazy??” Mugs had to move a hand up to shoot at the creatures. They burst and splattered. Boris took advantage of Mugman only having one arm around him to break free. “Boris, no!” “I have too. I’m not sorry!” Boris cried as he began ducking between a pair of inky legs before he got up and sprinted. Bendy was still anchored to the ground with his teeth gnashing. Boris’s eyes were soft when he looked to him. His poor brother… He squeaked again when Cuphead suddenly got in front of him, halting and ducking when he made a move to grab him. “Stop being stubborn!” “I won’t!” Boris twisted his body to get around him, kicking his feet off the ground in a quick leap. “Boris, he’s gonna--” Cuphead almost got an arm around him but then an ink creature jerked him away. “Sunblazing schmucks!” Boris kept running with the sounds of the cup brothers firing happening behind him. Finally, as his bare paws skid and picked up splinters, he was in front of his brother. Only a foot away he was dripping, a guttural growling sort of sound emanating from him, like the steady babble of a brook. He watched as his brother shook, more and more ink being used to send more creatures at the brothers.

“...Bro?” Boris finally got the nerve to speak. Worry and concern went through him like waves, and he wanted to cry but he didn’t. He forced himself not too. He needed to be strong for his brother. “Bendy…” This time the demon didn’t move. Boris took this as a good sign… or at least he wanted too. He took another step forward. He could hear the cup brothers arguing behind him, shouting. “He’s going to get himself killed!” “You don’t think I don’t know that!” “We need to get over there now, Cup--” “You don’t think I don’t know that!?” “I can’t see that again! I can’t see his corpse again, I can’t--!” Boris was tuning them out, his eyes locked on his brother. He managed to get in front of him, watching him wearily but also curiously. He raised a hand, willing himself to stop shaking but it didn’t work. He didn’t feel scared but his heart raced a mile a minute. Boris smoothed a hand over Bendy’s head, above his teeth. Bendy growled but this time Boris didn’t flinch back. “Dang, bro, you got some big teeth this time, huh?” Boris smiled, though it shook into place. Bendy’s maw parted, and Boris grimaced a bit, waving a hand in front of his nose. “Your breath smells. Do I have to start making sure you brush your teeth?” The growl subsided but only a bit. A rumble was all that remained. Bendy’s jaw closed. “And geez, those horns… I don’t even think I can see your hair under there.” Boris looked up. “And your shoulders are all… boney.” He frowned. Had his brother hurt himself turning into this? “Don’t even get me started on the rest of you.” He didn’t even want to look at it. He didn’t want to think about how much it must have hurt. “BORIS!!” He heard one of the cup brothers calling his name, but he wasn’t paying attention to which one. “I thought you said you wanted to look cool once you got this shapeshifting stuff down.” Boris looked eye level back with his brother, petting his head. “I don’t think this is what you had in mind.” The rumbling ceased. Bendy was still. Only the dripping of the ink down his form remained. “...I hope this isn’t another attack.” Boris pulled his hand back, looking to the ink dripping down his fingers to his sleeves. “...I really hope not, but it might be worse, too.” He looked up. He could feel his own eyes watering up and he swallowed. Only a little bit more, he could do this. “We’re coming, hold on!” Cuphead yelled out this time. They sounded like they were getting closer. “...You’re scared, aren’t you?” It came out almost like a whisper. Boris leaned closer to his brother. “You never like to talk about it, but you don’t have too. You’re afraid of yourself. You didn’t want to hurt me, Cup, Mugs, Felix, Holly, Oddswell, anyone at the house…” He sniffled. “This must be so scary…” He hugged his brother, his arms brushing past slobbery teeth. His clothes were getting stained with ink but he didn’t care. Tears were dripping treacherously down his cheeks. “I’m gonna help you, I promise.” His voice broke and he let himself cry just a little bit. It wouldn’t hurt for just a little bit, right? “Finally!” Cuphead had managed to break through the creatures, approaching Boris. The Jevil reappeared, pushing him back with the carousel attack. Cuphead screamed in fury. “WE’RE IN THE FINAL ACT! DON’T BE SUCH A HACK!” “I’m going to kill you, you starfallen hellspawn!!” Boris heard a crash behind him. Laughter resounded and the cup brothers were clearly getting angrier and angrier. He blinked open his eyes, looking at his brother. “H-Hey…” He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. “I-I just thought of something… H-Hold on.” He ruffled through his bag. If he didn’t know better he would have thought his brother was still watching somewhere. Carefully he took out two large pairs of googly eyes. He shook them a bit, a tentative smile playing across his muzzle. “Y-Ya know… I thought it was stupid.” He sniffled again. “Granny gave me a crafting kit once, when you were off doing whatever. It had glue and sparkles and weird fuzzy wires. I didn’t have fun with it at all, but when I saw these,” he shook the googly eyes, the pupils spinning around for show, “I thought these were hilarious. I thought maybe you’d get a kick out of them… but I haven’t gotten a chance to show you them yet, and now you don’t have eyes, so…” He stretched, placing an eye on either side of Bendy’s inked over face. Miraculously they stuck, wiggling in place for a moment. "There. Now even when you don't take good care of yourself, I'll always keep an eye on you.” Boris gave a big smile, bright as his eyes. “Or eyes, in this case..." The room around him seemed to grow silent. It made Boris a bit nervous and he turned around. Behind him, all the ink creatures that were around or that had been forming stopped. Cuphead and Mugman were also frozen, and the jester demon finished one last attack before laughing and vanishing. “What.. the..” Cuphead was on the floor, hand raised, ready to fire. “T-They s-stopped…?” Mugman was standing to his back, hand pointed at the creatures as well. The sound of something splashing sounded behind him Boris turned. “B-B-Bendy…?” Bendy’s body was falling apart. His body then his arms were dropping into piles of goop, slithering back into the moat of ink around the room. Boris’s eyes widened and he rushed to him, hands grabbing either side of his face. The googly eyes dropped to the floor. “No no no no Bendy I can’t lose you, I can’t--” Arms, tiny but real, wrapped around his neck then. The rest of what remained of the beastial body fell, and Boris had to take a step back as Bendy -- real and warm and absolutely covered in ink -- fell into his arms and started bawling. Loud and unrestrained. Boris felt his own tears running down his cheeks and he fell down with his brother, hugging him tightly and tightly. The room held no noise except for the two of them, crying. And then his brother went limp. Boris’s eyes widened. “B-Bendy?!” He was going to check for a pulse but his brother was still breathing, thank the stars-! Boris almost fell over onto the floor when Mugman’s arms wrapped around him and hugged him tightly. He was sobbing. “Oh, thank the stars! Thank you! Boris you’re alive, Bendy’s alive--” “H-Huh?” Boris blinked, the onslaught of tears dripping down onto his shoulders and he looked over. “Were you… that worried?”

“YES!” Cuphead came up then. His face was also tear stained, but unlike Mugman he looked like he wanted to punch something. He was breathing heavily. Boris frowned. “Are you-” “NO!” He threw his hands up. They were still balled into fists as he threw them back down. “I am NOT OK!” He hissed a breath through his teeth. “What the hell was that?!” “What--” “You could have gotten killed!” “I didn’t--” “Your brother would have killed us!” “Ok I’d come back from the grave just to keep him from doing that.” Boris’s nose scrunched up. “And… I’m not sorry. I needed to save my brother so I did, and… wow I saved my brother.” Boris’s eyes almost sparkled at that and Mugman laughed. “Mug’s this isn’t funny!” “I don’t care! Get down here!” Mug’s dragged him onto the floor, forcing him into now what Boris was starting to consider a hug pile. Cuphead was stuttering the whole time but after being forced into the hug he sighed and wrapped his arms around them. “Bunch of cussing morons…” “Aww, we know you love us.” “You’re so lucky you’re that pipsqueaks brother or I would have nailed you already--” Clap. Clap. Clap. They all froze, turning to the source of the sound. “BRAVO, BRAVO!” Jevil bowed. “WHAT A WONDERFUL PERFORMANCE! TRULY BEFITTING A CREATORS TALENT!” Cuphead raised his hand and immediately fired a charged shot. The jester laughed as his head bounced to and fro. Boris paled as he saw the red enter Cup’s eyes again. Mugman pulled his brother back down. “Bro, don’t--” “LISTEN TO YOUR MUG FRIEND, I HAVE GOOD NEWS TO SPEND!” He twirled, hopping on one foot as the room went back to normal. The ink vanished and the bars had disappeared as if they were never there. His voice echoed around the room. “THE PIECE YOU NEED IS SURELY YOURS INDEED! IT’LL BE A RECORD INSTANCE IN THE CHAPTERS OF YOUR DEEDS!” Cuphead fired again but this time something different happened. The demon poofed up into smoke. Where he was rested nothing more than a measly record. Any and all cold that was in the room seemingly vanished. Collectively Boris and Mug’s sighed in relief. Cuphead was trembling as he stood up. “When I find you I swear I’ll--” “Cup!” Mugman frowned, getting up himself. “It’s over, we got the piece, let’s go.” “Not until we--” “Cup, your eyes.” Cuphead clamped his mouth shut. There was an awkward silence between the two. Boris coughed to get their attention. “So… uhm… Can we go home now?” Cuphead looked down at Boris, his eyes shifting to Bendy. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “The pipsqueak ok?” “Exhausted but I… I don’t know.” He frowned. “He’s alive so… That’s good enough, right now.” He stood up, carrying his brother in his arms. Even passed out like this he was still clinging to him. He huffed. “I got the record.” Mugs came back with it under his arm. “We should get back as soon as possible, we don’t know if that whole ordeal heavily affected him or not.” Boris whined. “I know, don’t remind me!” “Sorry, sorry!” Mug’s waved his hand as Cuphead started walking out the gate. “Need to go to a bar after this, stars…”

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________

@theinkymystery A/N: Before anybody asks, Felix wasn't in this because when I originally started writing this I didn't have anything interesting of note to play around with Felix, and I didn't feel like I'd be able to do his character justice. Combined with me being unsure if I could write around more than two characters and having the story already about a fourth of the way written when I picked it back up last week, I just decided to finish it instead of shoehorning him in somewhere. Even if I do now have something I would have liked to have done with him (Felix being a Zany), I haven't seen his show, so it'd be harder to pull off (and I'd have to restructure the whole story for like the 8th time and I wasn't doing that).

Did you know I started writing this (technically) in December of last year? I've been working on it off and on because there was so many good demon tidbits popping up in each chapter (weekly, mind you) that I kept wanting to include them and it was turning into a vicious cycle. What really got me to finish this up was finding out the next machine piece was showing up soon, and I was afraid it was going to be the instrument and I wanted to get this done BEFORE that happened so it at least had a day to be a plausibility. Knowing me, I would have scrapped this if it wasn't what I thought it was or put it back on the drawing board and I did NOT want to let that happen.

The intention with this was even if you were not a reader of BABITIM, you'd be able to understand and enjoy this while (perhaps) becoming curious enough to check out the work it's based off of (please do -- it's long but so worth reading it in it's entirety).

And ah anybody who read this from the Deltarune side, there's no Deltarune characters in the main work and I'm not sure if there ever will be. Jevil's just a character I love and I wanted to write an interpretation of him here in a way I thought would work with his perceived character (playful and mischeivous) while working off what I feel he'd actually be in person (dangerous, acting as if the world is a game) so yeah. He's not a Darkner here, but a Demon to fit the BABITIM world. Counts with his analogies too, since it's a story and not a game.

Thank you to all my lovely friends and editors, Egg, Mewtea, Mewfang, Kifinosi, Glacial Angel for tolerating my spur of the moment worth ethic and reading over this for me.

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gohyuck · 7 years

Text

Sleepovers with NCT Dream

anon asked: Am I allowed to request sleepover/slumber parties with NCT Dream? Just somethin cute n fluffy

okay so i’m not sure if this is like each individual member or with the group as a whole so i did...both?

uh for each of them the other members aren’t present because just...assume that the specific member kicked them out for the night or they dont wanna bother member/reader haha

under the cut

mark

“fight me mark lee”

you regret the words like...as soon as they leave you because the moment you finish your sentence you get a face full of pillow

youd forgotten your clothes in the excitement of being able to sleepover at your boyfriend’s so long story short you’re decked out in one of his thinner t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants

moments before disaster (aka The Pillow) struck you’d been chilling out on the couch and you both were pigging out just watching tv or something

then mark decided to s t e a l a c h i p f r o m y o u r b o w l

you couldn’t just TAKE THAT

so yeah you mouth off and then get pillowed in the face and after the initial shock wears off you kinda just calmly get up and walk slowly towards the kitchen counter to put your food away so it doesnt spill

all the while mark is shaking in his boots the fear is BUILDING

because hes going over the scenarios of what you might do next in his head he doesnt notice you discretely picking up a pillow

he does feel it tho when you hit him upside the head with it

W A R ensues its like... Armageddon

until you pin mark down because hes laughing way too hard to fight back

“cry uncle” “NEVER” tickles him once “uNCLE”

he calls for a truce and you give him one with a warning about stealing food and hes like ok fine ill get my own chips next time and you guys resume watching the movie

his arms around you and youre just using him as a headrest/backrest and its overall a really soft time tbh

mark is really comfortable tbh

and you guys have been dating for a while (dream’s parents) so it’s just like a normal date, practically

its just really chill like you guys dont do much other than marathon movies and pillow fight and pig out

and make small talk

and steal kisses

playing random games like ispy or something just seems like a mark thing

planning future hang outs and dates lol

“hey on our next date im taking you out to dinner” “and a movie” “you bet” “mark i was kiddi-” “its my treat”

it gets late fast though (time flies when you’re having fun) and you notice this and look over to say that maybe you guys should sleep only to find your bf knocked out on the other side of the couch

again

you cant help but smile at the sight

he’s so overworked, you don’t have the heart to wake him up

instead you turn off the tv, put up all the foodstuffs and clean the area quickly, put the pillows up and lay a pillow out on the ground by the couch and find a blanket and then turn off the lights before lying down

when mark wakes up the next morning he wakes up before you and sighs before stepping over you lightly to brush and stuff and to pour cereal for the two of you (hes not even going to TRY to cook)

once you wake up hes like “why didnt you wake me i wouldve taken the floor” and youre just like “yeah thats why i didnt wake you” and he just shakes his head because he cant argue with you and honestly hes

kinda touched, just a little

you have to leave all too soon but you dont go before getting a goodbye kiss and a promise to have another sleepover very soon

just....soft..soft times

renjun

board game central

hes just

head in the game lolol (dont kill me for that joke)

monopoly? clue? sorry? you name it he’s got it like...this boy doesn’t play when it comes to board games

no pun intended

the first half of the night is just you guys playing random board games as best you can with just two people

and then he brings out the chess board

that’s when it gets bumpin tbh

by bumpin i mean you and your boyfriend nearly wring each others throats during the match...but with your minds...because neither of you are speaking you’re THAT concentrated

it’s.....2 hours long

and in the end you guys have to call a draw and like you sit back and just stare at each other blinking and eventually renjun speaks

and his voice is hoarse because neither of you have spoken in a while and the first thing he says (very matter-of-factly, too) is “i’m going to flip the board now”

and you just go “go ahead” hoarsely as well because you’re just in mild shock that nobody won that intense ass match

he flips the board and looks up and stares at you and you stare back and suddenly the two of you are crying of laughter like

majorly uncontrollable you’re just rolling on the floor wheezing

after you both calm down renjun goes to the kitchen to find something to eat and he’s like “it’s 1 in the morning oh my god we haven’t even eaten dinner what the heck” and that sends you into another fit of laughter

“wait but we still have to have like a pillow fight and watch dumb romcoms and horrors and stuff we have so much to do and so little time” “renjun we don’t have to do all the cliche sleepover stuff” “ok but consider this: itll be fun” “its like ass thirty in the morning though/??” “are you saying we cant do it because if so now we HAVE to do it” “...you get the pillows i’ll get the popcorn put the worst movie you can find into the dvd player”

after a few movies its like 5: 30 am and the two of you are still awake

“are you still up” “no are you” “no”

neither of you wants to be the first to fall asleep

competitive couple af

you guys start a two person game of truth or dare and it ends up getting mushy because for a truth renjun asks you like how you knew you wanted to date him

and you get serious and stuff (which he didn’t foresee he expected an answer like “well you look like moomin and like....i love moomin”) and you come at him with like “when i started noticing that your eyes sparkle when you sing and just how happy you make other people and how you love what you do and how-”

he attacks you with a massive hug because oh my god you’re so sweet he’s getting a cavity

“i like you a lot, you know” “i’d hope so i just ate like 90% of your snack stash renjun” “i take that back”

you guys are still awake when mark comes back to the dorm

when he gets out of the shower, however, is a different story - you and renjun are dead asleep while sitting on the couch, awkwardly wrapped around each other

a photoshoot courtesy of mark’s phone camera ensues

(mark goes to sleep to ice cubes in his pillow that night, courtesy of you and renjun)

jeno

king of planning

like he mentally knows everything that can and will go wrong and stuff and knows where the extra pillows and blankets are and is aware of what you’re gonna wanna do and just...he Knows

the first thing you guys do when you get to the dorm is bake brownies

he makes sure to take videos of the whole process and send them to the other members

jeno: guess what yall are missing out on ;) jisung: i hate this family

the kind of bf to try to feed you the brownies and get the food literally everywhere but your mouth

for as put together as he is you guys end up having brownies and ice cream for dinner lol neither of you can be bothered to cook dinner

“babe should we order out” “i mean you can if you want to” “...but jenoooo that means getting up and getting to my phone” “that’s what i thought”

has a cache of games and movies and shows

“take your pick”

you guys end up playing random card games like ERS or blackjack for a while

it honestly is never boring tho because you and jeno are just so comfortable with each other every moment is great no matter what you’re doing

i feel like jeno’s the kind of guy to call his SO a bunch of cute nicknames like he just wants you to know how cute he thinks you are and he does that thru nicknames

“love...” “babe...” “sweetheart...”

after a while though you run out of card games to play and jeno’s about to suggest watching something on tv when he sees your expression

“...what’s on your mind” “...we could mess with your members a little...” “prank calls?” “you know me so well”

within an hour the two of you have convinced yuta that aliens are real and can use cellphones and gotten taeyong to believe that “swag” is a polish swear word and that donghyuck needs to be punished whenever he says it

and jaemin thinks he’s being relentlessly contacted by clowns from a circus in the next town over who think that he’s stolen their tiny car

you guys pass more time just talking and stuff

and putting on songs and dancing to them it’s Good Fun

he makes you take his bed and sleeps on the floor in a sleeping bag

you feel awful about it though so when you’re sure he asleep you go find the other sleeping bag and take your pillow and sleep beside him on the floor

he’s super shook when he wakes up but when he realizes that you didn’t want him to be lonely on the floor his smile is as bright as the sun

texts his friends for help on how to cook a nice breakfast

jeno: yo does anyone know how to make breakfast haechan: yeah jeno: cool what are the directions haechan: i didn’t say i’d give them to you

by this time you’re awake and just like “ok let me handle breakfast”

the two of you just end up eating plain rice and eggs (because you aren’t confident in your kitchen skills) and giggling over the crappy pictures you’re taking of each other eating

all in all the perfect date/sleepover

haechan

the moment you walk in the first thing that happens is that haechan pulls you into a hug

the second thing that happens is he holds you at an arm’s length, looks you straight in the eyes, and goes “we have to make a pillow fort”

you 100% agree it’s a necessity

after putting your bag down on the kitchen he basically drags you to the living room

the couch gets pushed back against the wall, the coffee table is moved to the side and chairs are moved back so there’s just a big floorspace directly in front of the tv

“let’s use four chairs as like pillars to hold up the blankets and bring all our food, phones, everything in so we don’t have to leave the fort the whole night” “i like the way you think.. we should go out some time, get to know each other better” “hyuck we’re dating”

i feel like haechan’s the type to be reserved with pda and stick to handholding (only sometimes, even then) because he’s embarrassed around the other members because they like teasing y’all

BUT when you guys are alone he’s totally different

like after the fort is finished and there are blankets above your heads and you’re both changed into makeshift pjs (just shorts and shirts tbh) and theres pillows around the fort’s perimeter and the tv is on he’ll like

grab whatever you’re currently eating and hold it up and whenever you lean over to reach it he’ll just lean back or move it just out of your reach again

“give it backkkk” “only if you kiss me” “...honestly i was going to do that anyways but now that you’re asking i don’t want to”

leaning into him and him closing his eyes because he expects a kiss and his arm naturally lowering lolol you grab the food and move back without even a peck on the cheek

a pouty haechan emerges

he wont talk to you again unless you kiss him and youre like ugh this big baby

but you dont wanna spend the whole night conversationless so you comply and he pulls you in

suddenly yall are rolling around in the fort laughing and having a play fight just cute af tbh

“hey hyuck we have approximately 9 hours before the other guys come back and i have to go and we have to sleep sometime so we basically have 3 hours to pull some amazing prank” “not to worry, sweetheart - i already have an idea”

and thats when you two set about to turn literally everything upside down in everyone’s rooms

it takes forever because he puts music on while you guys are working and you both end up ballroom dancing to michael jackson

once its done neither of you can breathe from laughing so hard

he makes a really quick dinner and the two of you eat it in the fort

while trading stories from the past couple weeks

“so you’re telling me she just...drank the entire cup of coffee after pouring two monster energies into it” “yeah she straight up chugged it i was in AWE”

all of this is done facing each other while holding hands on one side and eating with the other

“hey is that my shirt” “might be? i just found it in my drawers” “it’s definitely mine” “no wonder it’s so soft”

you guys fall asleep really late (or early, depending on how you look at it) because you spend so much time just TALKING

there’s 80s movies playing on the tv in the background

you fall asleep on your pillow but wake up like sideways using haechan’s chest as a footrest or something just...weird sleep position couple

the two of you wake up to confused exclamations from the other members

“hey maybe we should eat breakfast somewhere else so they don’t kill us for the upside downness” “get your keys i’ll grab money”

jaemin

buys a telescope just for your sleepover

“what’s the point of having a roof if you can’t climb on top of it and stargaze”

has you go up the stairs to the roof first so he can keep a steady hand on your back since the stairs are narrow

you guys have to make like three trips up and down from the roof before settling down

the first trip you guys set the telescope and blankets up and you go down because you need to go back and bring the food up

the second time is because you have to bring pillows up

the third time is because jaemin forgets his phone oops

its still kind of light out when you guys get up on the roof so you pass time by taking selfies and talking and stuff

its cold af outside and youre freezing despite your jacket so jaemin bundles the both of you up in a blanket (or 4)

“so the best time to watch the meteor shower is between midnight and dawn but we can just look at other cool spacey stuff before then” “why would i look at other stars when the brightest star is right in front of me” “that’s the cheesiest thing i’ve ever heard i’m breaking up with you” “aw jaemin you know you love me”

you have to stop him from trying to eat what is essentially just a whole bunch of tomatoes in rice paper in one bite

jaemin forgets to bring games up to the roof and hes too lazy to go downstairs and get anything

youre not bored anyways tho

once it gets darker you guys start pointing out some cool stars and constellations

“babe it’s orion’s belt” “nana look at that star, it looks so bright!” “almost as bright as you” “i already said that about you earlier, try again”

play fighting over the telescope

he lets you look first though

when the meteor shower starts you’re both in serious awe

“can you believe that we’re so small and just..tiny and pliable and insignificant in this universe and there are huge things like meteors just streaking through this vast space of nothingness and just wow” “i’m just glad i exist at the same time as you” “jaemin that’s...that’s not even corny or anything that’s just super cute i can’t even make fun of you for it” “it’s true, though”

both of you forget to take videos of the shower

because you’re just enthralled with the fact that the literal sky is like...on fire and shit

jaemin the type to press chaste kisses to your cheek and pull you ever closer to him at random intervals

Soft BF Alert

eating dinner while watching

he points at like every meteor and is like “look at it goooo”

“gotta go fast” “jae if it was possible to literally delete somebody i’d do that right now...blocked” “you love me”

sings under his breath and you record a vid of him doing it without him knowing because its so cute and just...hes so good at singing youre shook

once it starts getting really late and youre yawning and stuff hes like ok maybe we should go downstairs and sleep

it takes two trips to get everything back down to the dorm rip

at least jaemin doesnt forget his phone this time

once you guys get back neither of you can decide who gets the bed

“you can have it babe i sleep here everyday” “no way i cant do that to you, ill take the floor i practically live here its like home”

its wayyy too late to argue tho you both end up sharing the bed

overall an amazing date like???? meteor shower AND a sleepover with your bf in one night?

thats one successful night

chenle

theres an unspoken meme war between the two of you

like nobody really mentions it its there...looming...constantly...

meme war as in you guys constantly taken ABSOLUTELY HORRENDOUS pictures of each other and use them as reaction images

throughout the night each of you take/send pics of each other to the other dream members

“we should cuddle” “ok how do i know youre not gonna like...lick me or something for a picture of my expression” “you...well you dont but-”

you convince him to watch the ouija movies that are out

he makes it through them but like...

chenle’s either screaming throughout the whole movie or totally shell shocked and you’re just lol @ him

“this isn’t even that scary” “speak for yourself” “i am - come out from under the blanket babe i swear it’s not that scary”

after the movies he’s like “im never letting you choose what to do ever again ever” and you get him saying it on video for the Jokes

its his turn to choose

his immediate response is karaoke

chenle sets everything up for it while you order in dinner because lbr neither of you are looking up the directions to anything with cooking

he screams directly into the mic while youre on the phone to test it

(and takes a pic of your eyes going wide and you jumping a little bit)

“is everything alright on your side” “yeah just ...make that three orders of chicken im gonna be eating my woes away tonight”

chenle gets out the hoverboard and tries to teach you the dance moves to chewing gum

that quickly stops because you fall onto him

twice

within a span of four and a half minutes

nobodys there to roast though so you guys laugh as hard as you want

a lot of screaming

you love his laugh its so bright and happy just!!! wow

ngl since you started dating him his laugh kind of influenced yours so you laugh a lot louder than you did before chenle

when your food comes in youre too busy screaming lyrics to a song to get the door so chenle grabs the food

and tips the deliveryboy even more than he usually would

“you’re going to scare away the neighbors with that singing” “i’m surprised people still live here after you moved in chenle, dolphin sounding little-”

eating on the floor while facing each other

“close your mouth while chewing” “ok hon but to tell me that you spoke while eating” “listen, zhong chenle-”

having a staring contest

loser has to wash dishes

spoiler alert: you lose because he starts smiling and you cant stare straight at him when he smiles without smiling back and blinking really hard its like looking straight at the actual sun

hes super loving and cuddly so while youre washing dishes chenle backhugs you instead of cleaning up the karaoke equipment

“yah you’re sidetracking me” “we should dance instead of being boring and washing dishes like an old married couple” “you can dance while i’m being productive”

he does just that - tries to sidetrack you EVEN MORE by dancing ridiculously while you try to wash dishes

ends up in a soap and water fight

i feel like chenle would sleep a little earlier than the other guys so when youre done cleaning up your (late) dinner and hes done mopping the floor of the remnants of soap hes like maybe we should sleep

you agree because its almost like 1 am and youre tired too

pulling out a big family size sleeping bag in the middle of the living room floor and finding pillows

putting on light instrumental sleep music

waking up to chenle taking like a million pictures of your terrible bedhead and sending them to all of his friends

chenle’s just so fun to be around alfskjdk

jisung

ngl i feel like the night would start off just a little bit awk with jisung

like not awkward to where no conversation is being made awkward just more like small talk while sitting a good foot away from each other on the couch and friends is running on the tv in the background awkward

you get tired of that really fast tho

bc you and jisung have been best friends for a g e s it shouldnt be like this

so you bean him with a throw pillow

straight upside the head like hes an alarm clock that wont shut up

it takes him a second to react but once he does its chaos

he hits you back with like twice as much speed and power

suddenly both of you are on the floor fending for yourselves while trying to attack the other

you fight valiantly but hes just

so dang tall that eventually he grabs the weaponized pillow right out of your hand and holds it way high above your head

“checkmate” “...oh shut up :/”

after that though its a lot more comfortable like you settle into your usual pattern of relentlessly teasing each other

“lets put on mickey mouse cartoons jisung you’ll be able to relate” “are you even tall enough to see the tv” “not everyone can be a beansprout”

jisung pops popcorn for the movies and instead of eating it while watching the movie the two of you just throw kernels at each other and laugh at how dumb the other looks with popcorn in their hair

after a while jisung’s like “we should go out back there’s like... a singular tree and some grass and we can just chill” and you’re like well that’s new in the city so it’s a good opportunity so you agree

bringing a needle and thread outside so you can sew together flower crowns of leaves, grass, and dandelions

jisung leans against the tree while watching you make a mildly lopsided crown

he cant help but laugh when you put it on his head

“hold on im gonna take a picture” “do i look like a beautiful princess” “like a model, jisung, the prettiest princess ever” “will you be the frog to my princess?” “that’s the worst pick up line i’ve ever heard i’m considering taking back my flower crown”

you almost go inside after that but jisung’s like wait what about a flower crown for you

and you’re like oh i forgot i wasn’t really focusing on making one for myself haha

so jisung takes the needle and thread and makes you one

it’s not as pretty as the one that’s on his head but itll do

taking like 20 selfies together with the flower crowns before going back inside

after that he teaches you some of the nct dances

including stuff from the other subunits

“can you teach me taeil-ssi’s cheerleader dance from paju” “...this lesson is over”

jisung making rice and meat for dinner

you fry vegetables and try your hardest not to make anything explode

afterwards you’re lying down on the couch and he’s on the floor below you

the lights are out and its been a while since theyve been off

youre halfway asleep when

“i know youre my best friend but i think i want to date you”

aaaaand youre wide awake again

“wait, jisung, what?” “i thouGHT YOU WERE ASLEEP OH NO” “did i hear you correctly???” “im so sorry i’ll-” “i like you too you absolute idiot oh my god i cant believe neither of us said anything i-” “-move to cuba and change my name you’ll never have to hear from me again-” “-we are SO DUMB wow okay well we have to get together now its the next logical step-” “-and i’ll cut all connection off and. wait. wait, you like me back?” “-and. dude wait have you not been listening to me at all?? yes??”

and that kids is how you and jisung end up together

jisung texts all of his members before you both really do go to sleep (after an awkward hug and a massive bout of embarrassed laughter) that he finally confessed

you wake up to 89 texts and 2 missed calls

“taeyong says i have to keep you safe and make sure you eat three square meals a day” “is it disrespectful if i block my hyung and surrogate mother”

!! youre dating park jisung congr a t s

ALL OF NCT DREAM

you open the door immediately to hug bombardment by chenle and jaemin

mark closes it behind you (and shrugs apologetically) considering you cant because youre sandwiched in between the two other members

the first thing all of you do is eat because haechan’s made dinner (with, as jeno keeps reminding everyone, jeno’s help)

hc: all he did was heat the water jn: but it was necessary and helpful, wasn’t it

the second order of business is to push everything out of the way in the living room so the floorspace is entirely open

there are, after all, eight people there and its getting tight on the chairs

everyones just like eliminate the seating options and thats best - then everyone will just have to sit on the floor

you: so whats next rj: lets play monopoly everyone, collectively: NO mk: i still have nightmares from last time

jisung suggests twister and everyone (foolishly) agrees

jaemin calls out the colors and limbs and soon you find your left arm reaching over chenle’s right leg and your legs trapped under jisung’s torso

hc, monotonously but muffled as his face is somewhere under renjun’s right armpit: wow this is so wild

after that ends badly (mark nearly suffocates from jeno’s left foot being literally in his mouth) everyone agrees on never taking a suggestion from jisung again (including jisung)

you suggest a movie marathon and everyone throws pillows at you because that’s “basic”

jm: what about truth or dare jn: wow nana that’s actually a good idea jm: im going to ignore your tone and take it as a compliment anyways

truth or dare quickly causes everyone to become absolute messes because stuff like this happens -

you: renjun, truth or dare rj: truth you: so if you had to gently caress anyone here’s bellybutton, whose bellybutton would it be rj: i

mark and haechan and chenle can each barely breathe because theyre laughing too hard

meanwhile renjun’s mentally going through his brain files of everyone’s bellybuttons and ruing the day he was born, not necessarily in that order

jeno’s videotaping the entire game for future blackmail

hc: jisung if everyone here was a redwood tree who would you set on fire js: you hc: you..you couldnt have hesitated? for even just a secon d

jn: chenle go out in the street and yodel cl: you didnt even ask me truth or d- jn: do it

by the time truth or dare ends its pretty late but youre all way too hopped up on each others embarrassment and general having fun with friends to sleep

cl: karaoke? hc: karaoke. you: maybe karaoke will be our always

the noise level grows like exponentially once karaoke comes on

and it was already pretty freaking loud to start out with

mark’s halfway through a particularly soulful rendition of eminem’s lose yourself when you take a look at the clock

you: guys its almost 3 in the morning jm: sleep is for the WEAK js: chenle’s been knocked out for at least a half hour jm: exactly

mark and jeno move chenle onto the couch and put a blanket over him while you, haechan, and renjun set up sleeping bags and pillow and blankets on the living room floor

jaemin and jisung turn the music off and make sure the kitchen and everything is clean (and twister is put away)

you turn off the lights and lie down in the bag between mark and renjun

you: we should do this another time jm: minus the twister everyone: minus the twister

jeno wakes you up by stepping on your stomach the next morning while trying to escape renjun and his Pillow of Wrath

the pillow fight’s a little late but hey

8 am is better late than never

a quick breakfast is had while everyone takes turns brushing/showering/changing and it hits 10 am quicker than expected

everyones sad when you have to go back home but!! you all had fun and thats what counts

youre not surprised when mark texts the group chat later about hanging out again soon

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aion-rsa · 5 years

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The Many Origin Stories of The Joker

https://ift.tt/2OhrRwu

The Joker has had many different versions of his origin told over the years, including in the new movie.

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This article contains some spoilers for the Joker movie. We have a completely spoiler free review right here.

The Joker is probably the most recognizable supervillain in the world. Loosely ased on famed German actor Conrad Veidt in The Man Who Laughs, the Clown Prince of Crime’s unique look and penchant for elaborate, themed murder has left a giant mark in the public consciousness. His real world origins are in dispute - Bob Kane claims the Joker was his creation, but Kane was so full of it that Jim Steranko, the legendary artist behind the groundbreaking Nick Fury: Agent of SHIELD, once went upside Kane’s head because Kane patted his face like some nobody kid. The general scholarly consensus is the Joker was created by Jerry Robinson and Bill Finger rather than Kane.

And while the Joker’s real world origins are disputed and nebulous, his in-continuity origins are generally pretty thematically consistent. The real variation comes from a creator’s fundamental view of the Joker: is he a character within the Batman universe? Or is he a primal force standing in opposition to what Batman represents? Or are you...whatever the hell Gotham was? Let’s take a look.

THE RED HOOD: VARIATIONS ON A THEME

Most Joker origin stories hit several of the same notes. A man is involved in a crime in a chemical plant, falls into one of the tanks, and comes out a crazed psychopath with chemically bleached skin and a shock of green hair, often with a permanent smile of some kind.

In most of those, the man involved is a flamboyant criminal known as the Red Hood. While the Joker’s first appearance was in 1940’s Batman #1, his actual origin wasn’t fleshed out for more than a decade. In 1951’s Detective Comics #168, it was revealed that a dapper master criminal in a domed red helmet was planning a heist at Ace Chemicals. He was caught in the act by Batman and Robin and dove into a catch basin full of chemicals to escape them. Those chemicals deformed him, turning him into an evil-looking clown, so he leaned into the gimmick and became the Joker.

This origin is the foundation for a lot of variations. In Alan Moore and Brian Bolland’s The Killing Joke, the unnamed man who becomes the Joker was originally a lab assistant at Ace Chemicals who took up the most dangerous job known to man, stand up comedy, to make extra money to support his pregnant wife. When that didn’t work, he then signed up with some mobsters to rob his former workplace as the Red Hood. After his wife died and he was forced to stick with the robbery anyway, he jumps into a chemical vat to escape Batman, with the usual results.

read more: Every Batman and DC Easter Egg in the Joker Movie

And in Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s “Zero Year” from 2013, the story is basically the same, only with the Red Hood being a gang of criminals instead of just one. It’s the mysterious Red Hood One, the leader but possibly one of any number of rotating primaries, trying to escape Batman by jumping into a vat of chemicals as a planned heist of Ace goes wrong.

There are small differences to each of these origins, but they’re all fundamentally the same - one bad day turns a regular person into a super-psychopath. It’s worth noting that two of the four modern movie interpretations of the Joker also go roughly down the “chemical bath” route. While we never learn the exact details, it’s a safe bet something along these lines happened to Jared Leto’s nameless Joker of the DCEU before Suicide Squad. But other big screen Jokers took a slight detour...

JACK NAPIER

Tim Burton's Batman from 1989 followed a similar premise, only without the Red Hood aspect. Jack Napier was set up by Carl Grissom, his immediate supervisor in the mob, to die in a robbery at Axis Chemicals. Napier caught on to the setup and killed Grissom, but falls over the side of a catwalk and is accidentally dropped into a vat of chemicals by Batman, who was trying to save him. There, we get the added bonus of a bullet ricochet scarring and paralyzing the facial muscles of the vain and handsome Napier, hence the permanent grin.

read more: What the Joker Controversy Gets Wrong

This is also pretty much what his origin was in Batman: The Animated Series. Jack Napier is referred to by name several times throughout the series, and a gangster who Bruce is convinced eventually becomes the Joker is responsible for the death of Andrea Beaumont’s father in Mask of the Phantasm. However, this takes some piecing together, because to the best of my knowledge, it’s only ever referred to and not directly shown.

WANNA KNOW HOW I GOT THESE SCARS?

Not every origin story for the Joker follows that pattern. Or any pattern at all, really.

Heath Ledger’s Joker is probably the one that is most solidly planted in the current popular consciousness. Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight very pointedly did not give a clear origin for the character, opting instead to present him as a force of chaos, a kind of psychotic antibody to the Batman’s rigid order. He gives two vastly different (and terrifying) origin stories at different points in the movie, one where his father carves up his face because he’s a violent drunk, and one where he does it to himself to make his wife happy after she gets her own face disfigured by bookies. We’re never told if either is true, but that’s the exact point the movie is trying to get across - it doesn’t matter where he comes from, just what he’s doing. The Joker in The Dark Knight is less a character, and more an elemental reaction to the existence of Batman.

read more: The Many Deaths of the Joker

Grant Morrison did something similar with the Joker in his epic run with the character in the late aughts. In the first, pre-Batman, Inc. part of the story, Bruce is led to believe that his father is still alive and a servant of the dark Bat-god Barbatos. One of the primary goals of the arc is for Morrison to weave together all of the disparate eras of Batman - the wackiness of the Silver Age, the grim and gritty Batman of the post Dark Knight Returns/Year One era, the street level guy who fights regular old murderers in the Golden Age.

Morrison really wanted the reader to understand that everything counts. In doing so, he set the Joker up as Batman’s foil - while Batman was using his Zurr-En-Arrh personality as an emergency backup, to reset and run on automatic while Bruce Wayne healed, the Joker was also resetting his own personality periodically. This Joker, he argued in a bizarre and wild prose issue (Batman #663, if you’re checking), was super-sane and would alter his own thoughts and methods to match the times. So for this Joker, nothing was true and everything was true at the same time.

GOTHAM

And then there’s Gotham. Good Lord, there’s Gotham. Bear with me now, because we’re about to enter “Xorn’s brother Xorn” territory.

Jerome Valeska is a violent, mentally ill anarchist son of a circus performer with a signature laugh. He kills his mom, confesses, and gets tossed into Arkham, where he inspires a cult. He and his cult escape, and they kill Sarah Essen to help someone run for Mayor, before getting killed by that Mayoral candidate to tie up loose ends. He gets resurrected by his cult, collects a team of supervillains, sows anarchy around the city, and dies again. In the process, he hoses down his identical twin brother Jeremiah with assorted chemicals, which turn Jeremiah insane. Jeremiah is a much more low-key serial killer, and in the last season, he gets tossed into a vat of chemicals making him even crazier.

read more: The Actors Who Have Played the Joker

It’s important to note that at no point were any of Jerome or Jeremiah or any of Jeremiah’s personality changes ever actively identified as the Joker. They just shared almost all of the Joker’s characteristics at varying points. And there was lots of laughing when they were around. Heavy allusions and all. Man, Gotham was a lot.

THE JOKER

Arthur Fleck is a wannabe (and terrible) standup comedian who lives with his mentally ill mother. Awkward and shy, Arthur has some issues, including an unnerving laugh that has nothing to do with humor. Instead, a brain injury (brought on by years of physical abuse he suffered as a child) causes him to break out into fits of uncontrollable, mirthless laughter, which is sometimes seems painful, like a coughing fit. Lest you feel too sorry for him, Todd Phillips’ Joker movie makes it clear early on that Arthur leads an unhealthy (and thoroughly narcissistic) fantasy life.

read more: 10 Times the Joker Almost Nailed Batman

Arthur reaches his breaking point after a mugging, the loss of his job, the continued deterioration of his mother...and a triple murder he commits on a subway car. His spiral continues as more facts about his past are brought to light, and he finally snaps, donning clown makeup (rather than something more permanent) and embracing his destiny. Of course, the movie offers a slightly ambivalent ending that makes it clear that, like Ledger’s conflicting stories, this may be only one of Joker’s POSSIBLE pasts…

Joker is in theaters now.

Read and download the Den of Geek NYCC 2019 Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Feature

Books

Jim Dandy

Oct 4, 2019

DC Entertainment

Joker

Batman

from Books https://ift.tt/2VbU5du

#aion-rsa #Books

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ambrossart · 4 years

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PAPER MEN

— CHAPTER 12

WORD COUNT: 9,701

MASTERPOST

MASTERLIST

The Mueller house stood like a small stone castle on the corner of Witcham and West Broadway. The houses on this street were the biggest and most luxurious in all of Derry. This house was no exception. It was a massive two-story craftsman with siding made of brown wood (Mrs. Mueller would call it “taupe” because brown sounded too plain and ugly) and grey cobblestone, which contrasted beautifully with the freshly painted white trim on all the windows. And there were a lot of windows, Evelyn realized, at least ten on the front side alone: big ones, small ones, square ones, round ones, all lit up and glowing behind silhouettes of dancing teenagers.

“Man, I’d hate to be the one to clean all those windows,” her mother said, snorting at her own joke. To Maggie, the house looked like nothing but work. The front landscaping alone probably took hours to maintain, with all that pruning and weeding. “And just look at that lawn. Could you imagine your brother mowing a lawn that big? It’d take him all day.”

“Pretty sure they have a gardener,” Evelyn said.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

An old two-door pulled up in front of Maggie’s blue Plymouth Voyager. A group of girls climbed out, giggling and hanging on each other as they stumbled up the driveway and up the porch steps. As soon as they opened the front door, the music came pouring out like floodwater, the heavy bass pounding with a deep, thunderous boom, boom, boom. Evelyn could feel it from inside the car, and it made her excited and nervous all at the same time. Her heart raced as she reached for the door handle.

“Hey, wait,” Maggie said, bringing Evelyn’s movements to a screeching halt. “First, we need to establish some ground rules.”

Evelyn turned back. “Ground rules?”

Maggie cringed. Yeah, even she thought that sounded weird. Maggie never considered herself a strict parent, especially when it came to her daughter, but after Sonia Kaspbrak called her a bad mother, Maggie thought it necessary to create a little more structure in her children’s lives.

She started counting off on her fingers: “No drugs. No drinking. No unprotected sex.”

“Mom!” Evelyn shrieked, leaving them both startled and embarrassed.

“What?” Maggie said. “I’m a nurse, not a nun.” She’d calmed her fair share of panicked teenagers, assuring them that one late period didn’t necessarily point to pregnancy. “I know how teenagers behave, and it’s perfectly natural. I was sexually active when I was your age.”

“Eww, with Dad?”

That made her cackle. “Oh, he wishes. No, I didn’t meet your father till college. He still thinks I was a virgin when we started dating, and I just don’t have the heart to tell him the truth. Poor guy.” She smiled a little, getting lost in the memory of those oh-so-sweet teenage years. The grimace on her daughter’s face brought her crashing back to reality. “Look, I don’t expect you to stay a virgin all through high school. I’m not as naive as your father. I do, however, expect you to make smart choices, okay? I don’t wanna be raising my grandchild.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” Evelyn said, her lips curling into a small, reassuring smile that seemed so mature for a girl her age. It left Maggie speechless. “I’ll be responsible, I promise. Can I go now?”

Maggie suddenly felt bashful. “Of course. Go, go have fun.”

Evelyn exited the car with modest grace, her movements a little timid and unsure due to the short length of her denim skirt. Of course, she had worn such skirts before, to family gatherings and formal school functions, but always over leggings or pantyhose. It came as a great shock to her parents when she came downstairs, showing off her bare legs. Suddenly, as if it happened overnight, their little girl was a full-fledged teenager.

“Just be careful when you sit down,” Maggie reminded her daughter again. “Remember, knees together. You don’t wanna be flashing your panties at everyone.”

That made Evelyn laugh, her nerves finally settling. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

Headlights flashed in the distance. Another car was on its way. That was Maggie’s cue to leave.

“Okay, have fun. Call us when you’re ready to come home.”

“I will. Thanks for the ride.”

Evelyn waved goodbye twice that night: once outside the car and once at the top of the driveway. The first was a sweet and innocent gesture, like an anxious child getting dropped off on the first day of school. The second was more confident and assertive. I’ve got this, Mom, the second wave said. You can go now.

And her mother did.

Evelyn watched her mom’s minivan continue down West Broadway for a couple hundred feet and then turn right at the stop sign, vanishing behind a small grove of apple trees.

It was a surreal feeling, standing outside Liz Mueller’s home. Even the walk to the door felt like a dream. Her hand glided effortlessly up the smooth, wrought iron railing. Potted pansies sprang up on either side of her, bursting into vivid hues of red, yellow, and violet. Evelyn stopped once to smell them. Their fragrance was as lovely and inviting as the perfume Liz always wore. Evelyn closed her eyes and thought this might be the best night of her life.

“It’s just a flower, kid,” said a rough yet feminine voice. Evelyn walked around the porch and saw a girl sitting on the swing with a lit cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. She brought the bottle to her lips and smirked. “Or are you one of those hopeless romantics that sees beauty in the birds and the trees and all that shit?”

“No, I’m not.” Evelyn was struggling to see the beauty now. The porch lights softened the girl’s sharp features somewhat, obscuring the lines of her nose and cheekbones, but they did little to warm her cold stare. “I know you, I think. I’ve seen your picture in the paper a few times. You’re… Marcella, right?”

“Marci,” the girl corrected before taking a quick drag from her cigarette. “Only my dad calls me Marcella. And you don’t know me, just like I don’t know you, right, Tozier?” She flashed a mocking smile. “I’ve seen you in the paper, too. Little Miss Perfect.”

“I’m not perfect,” Evelyn said. “And obviously I don’t know you personally, but I do know who you are. You’re Marci Espinoza. You’re a senior. You run track and cross country—”

“No,” Marci growled, kicking off the ground with both feet. The wooden bench went swinging. Chains groaned, wood creaked, and beer swished back and forth in the glass bottle, but not a single drop spilled. “I ran track and cross country. Ran. Past tense. You should know the difference.”

“Why’d you quit?”

“Reasons.” That was all she said. Reasons.

Whatever they were, she washed them down with the rest of her beer and then wiped her mouth on her sleeve. The smile that remained on her red lips was tragically beautiful. Practically Shakespearean, Evelyn thought.

Maybe she was a romantic, after all.

“So what are you doing out here?” Evelyn asked. It had to be a little lonely sitting out in the cold by herself.

“Just preparing,” Marci said. She brought the cigarette to her lips and took a long drag as she rocked back and forth.

“Preparing for what?”

Marci tilted her head back and blew out all the smoke. “You’ll see.”

Another cryptic response, but this one made Evelyn uncomfortable.

“Well, sorry for bothering you,” she said, and then went inside to enjoy the party.

Again, Evelyn had been to other parties before. Not many, but a few. The most recent had been Marcia Silcott’s fourteenth birthday party, which, at the time, was a pretty big deal because (1) Marcia’s parents had a pool in their backyard and (2) they let her invite boys. As far as parties go, that was basically the teenage equivalent of renting a private petting zoo, which, yes, Marcia’s parents had done too, when she turned seven.

In hindsight, the petting zoo would have been more fun. The boys spent the afternoon doing cannonballs in Marcia’s pool while the girls laid out in the sun, refusing to get wet. Later that night, they all stood around Marcia’s living room, boys on one side of the room and girls on the other, silently sipping punch and eating chips. Christie Gibson suggested they play seven minutes in heaven, and the whole room became filled with this nervous, sexual energy that nobody knew how to handle.

Evelyn got locked in the closet with Denny Booker, who spent the whole seven minutes fidgeting in the corner. When Evelyn tapped him on the shoulder (to tell him their time was up), he just about had a heart attack.

The other couples didn’t fare much better. Ashton Griphin claimed he’d made it all the way to second base with Mallory Stone and felt up her chest. Mallory told all the girls Ashton never made it past first because he was an awful kisser and used way too much tongue. None of the girls knew what “too much tongue” exactly meant (they had yet to get even a little tongue), but they all agreed it sounded gross.

Now, Evelyn didn’t expect Liz Mueller’s party to be anything like that. Seniors didn’t play kiddie games like spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven. Instead, their party games revolved around alcohol.

Lots of alcohol.

Needless to say, Evelyn felt a little out of place.

For the first twenty minutes, she sat on the far end of an upholstered sofa (with her knees together) while, on the other end, a senior and her much-older boyfriend tried to suck the air out of each other’s lungs. Elsewhere, teens were dancing hip-to-hip to the latest pop song. Two boys were dragging in a second cooler of beer through the back door while another boy poured half a bottle of vodka into the punch bowl. Evelyn locked eyes with him for a second. He put his finger to his lips before dumping in the rest.

Oh, and she had yet to even see Liz Mueller.

I should’ve just stayed home. Evelyn sighed, debating how long she should wait before leaving. The boy on the couch started kissing and biting the girl’s neck, leaving a trail of pink bruise-like marks.

Evelyn winced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

The question just sort of popped out, but it made the girl giggle.

“Not really,” she answered sweetly while the boy switched to the other side, “but it does feel a little weird at first. The real tricky part is covering up the marks before your parents see them. Makeup works, but only if you have the right concealer. When it doubt, just wear a turtleneck.”

The boy smiled against her skin. “Or you can just wear ‘em proudly like she does.”

“Yeah, don’t do that. Everyone will think you’re a slut.”

“Okay,” Evelyn said, even though she had no intention of ever wearing one of those marks, secretly or not.

“Anyway,” the girl went on, reaching across the sofa to shake Evelyn’s hand, “I’m Desiree, but most people just call me Des. This one here is Danny, but don’t call him Dan or Daniel because he hates that.”

“That’s right, I do,” Danny said, and he took Desiree by the chin and started kissing her roughly, using what Evelyn now realized was way too much tongue, but Desiree didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m Evelyn,” she finally said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Desiree suddenly broke off her lover’s kiss. “Wait,” she said in between breaths, “you’re Evelyn?” Evelyn nodded and Desiree’s expression changed. When Danny tried to pull her in for another kiss, she roughly pushed him away. “Not now, Daniel.”

He rolled his eyes and backed off. “You owe me.”

Desiree told him to go grab her a beer, which he did, but only because he wanted one, too. Once he was gone, Desiree slid across the sofa to where Evelyn was sitting and leaned in really close.

“Have you talked to Liz yet?”

“No,” Evelyn answered hesitantly. The girl’s eyes, which had once been clouded with lust, were now clear and eerily focused. Focused on her. “I haven’t even seen her. Why? Is she looking for me or something?”

Desiree got to her feet. “Wait here. I’ll go find her.”

“Okay…”

Evelyn didn’t understand what was going on, but she did as Desiree asked. Danny came back a few minutes later, holding two beers, and plopped down beside her.

“You know,” he said, staring out with half-lidded eyes, “you look like someone who bakes. Do you bake, Evelyn?”

“Yeah, a little.”

His head bobbed up and down. “I knew it, I knew it. You just have that look about you.”

Evelyn smiled awkwardly. “Okay.”

Thankfully, Desiree came back shortly after that, and she had Liz Mueller with her.

“Oh, hey, I’m so glad you made it!” Liz said, pulling Evelyn into a warm hug. “Sorry I made you wait so long. I swear, I wasn’t trying to blow you off or anything. Someone dropped a beer bottle out by the jacuzzi and there was glass, like, everywhere. Then Candice cut her foot on it and threatened to sue me because she gets stupid when she’s drunk, and yeah, it became this whole crazy, overdramatic thing, but whatever, it’s done now. At least you got to meet Des.”

Across the room, Desiree flashed a quick wave with two fingers while cradling her beer.

Evelyn waved back. “Yeah, she’s great. Was that who you wanted to introduce me to?”

“Des? Oh, no, not exactly. For that, you’ll need to come with me.”

“Come with you where?”

“You’ll see,” Liz said, smiling, but it wasn’t the same beautiful, effortless smile Evelyn was used to seeing. This one was forced, painted on like cheap lipstick. “Des, can you go get everyone?”

Desiree lowered her beer in mid-drink. “Wait, we’re doing this now?”

“Yes. Now. Evelyn, come with me.”

If the walk to Liz’s house was a dream, then everything after that was a total nightmare. All of a sudden, Evelyn found herself in Liz Mueller’s bedroom, where everything was pretty and pink, surrounded by about ten junior and senior girls. Some she knew, like Sasha Gunt, but most were little more than yearbook pictures to her. Evelyn sat on the bed, staring around anxiously, while even more trickled in.

“Wait, where’s the other Anna?” Liz asked Anna K when she entered the room, giggling at seemingly nothing.

“Hmm?” said Anna K. “Oh, she’s smoking a joint in the bathroom.” Anna paused for a second, her eyes widening, then collapsed into giggles again. “Whoops, probably wasn’t supposed to say that.”

Anna K and Anna W were two juniors who became best friends because they were both named Anna and had last names that nobody in Derry could properly pronounce. At school, they were practically inseparable. Tonight was no different. As soon as Anna W came in, the two girls crammed themselves onto the window bench and ignored everyone else.

Nobody was talking.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn asked, getting everyone’s attention. “Am I about to be inducted into some kinda super secret club or something?”

Nervous laughter rose up around her.

One of the girls on the floor said, “You’re already in the club, sweetie.”

Evelyn didn’t like the sound of that.

The last girl to enter was Marci Espinoza, who bucked off Liz’s friendly greeting and positioned herself as far away from everyone else as possible. Her deep brown eyes met Evelyn’s and flashed with a sort of I told you so. Then she said to Liz, “Well? Can we get this over with already?”

Evelyn turned around. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

Liz sat crossed-legged on the bed with one of the decorative pillows on her lap. “Evelyn,” she began, playing with the fringe, “have you noticed anything weird going on lately?”

“No,” Evelyn said. “I mean, nothing weirder than usual. Why?”

“It’s just… well, I noticed Patrick’s been hanging around you a lot these last couple days. Some of the other girls have noticed it too, and we just wanted to make sure you were, umm… okay, I guess.”

Okay? Evelyn thought. Why wouldn’t I be…?

“Oh!” she said, flattered by their concern. “No, everything’s fine, really. Patrick’s just being Patrick. Sure, it’s a little annoying, but it’s not anything you guys should be worried about. Really, he’s harmless.”

Back by the window, the two Annas started laughing. Evelyn turned to ask what was so funny, but then Liz Mueller was at her elbow, drawing her back.

“He hasn’t ever shown up unexpectedly?” she asked. “At places you wouldn’t expect him to be, like, say, your house?”

Evelyn shrugged. “Uh, yeah, he showed up at my house one night. Then another time he was at the library, but—”

“Patrick used to show up at my house, too,” Liz said. “He would follow me home from school almost every day. At first, it didn’t really bother me. I used to think Patrick was kinda cute and, whatever, he’s fun to flirt with. But then things started getting weird. Really weird. Suddenly, he was everywhere. I would see him while out shopping. I’d see him at the pool or on the way to my friend’s house. It started to really creep me out.”

“So what happened?” Evelyn asked, interested but still a little confused. What exactly did this have to do with her?

“Well, I started dating Pete and he eventually backed off, moved on to someone else.”

“Moved on to me,” Sasha Gunt said, raising her hand. “Thanks a lot, Liz.”

Liz smiled apologetically and Sasha went on talking:

“Anyway, Patrick didn’t really need to stalk me or anything. I was already pretty into him. Call me stupid if you want, but I was just glad to be getting some attention for once.” One of the other girls scoffed at that and Sasha frowned, burrowing herself into her black turtleneck. “I mean, you know how it is, Evelyn. Most guys at school don’t even notice us. So, yeah, I enjoyed the attention Patrick gave me, and yeah, I let him do whatever he wanted to me. Yeah, that probably makes me stupid, but whatever, I guess I got what I deserved then.”

“Don’t say that, Sasha,” Liz said. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

Sasha didn’t care to listen. “Look, you can think what you want, but at the end of the day, I asked him to do it, so—”

“You did not ask him to put a belt around your neck. My god, stop blaming yourself!”

The whole room collapsed into stunned silence. Fifteen pairs of eyes landed on Sasha Gunt and that turtleneck sweater. Evelyn was staring too, her fingers brushing against the base of her own throat. A belt around the neck, slowly getting tighter and tighter. The mere thought of it made her shiver.

“What the fuck, Liz!” Sasha cried, crumbling beneath everyone’s gaze. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything!”

“Well, she needs to know!”

“Nobody needs to know! That’s my fucking business, Liz! I told you that in confidence!”

Evelyn stood up from the bed, her knees wobbling. “Um, I think I should go. Yeah, this whole thing is just really weird and it has nothing to do with me, so—” She looked back at Sasha, who was holding back tears. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, and you should probably talk to someone about it if you haven’t already, but, um, I have to go. I can’t stay here.” All the tension was pressing down on her chest and it was becoming difficult to breathe, and—”I just really need to go. Sorry, Liz.”

She started toward the door.

“Evelyn, this has everything to do with you,” Liz said from the bed. “Can’t you see what’s happening?”

“He hasn’t done anything!” Evelyn shouted back. “There’s nothing going on, so I don’t know why I’m here!”

As soon as she reached for the knob, Marci spoke up from the corner of the room:

“You’re wasting your time, Liz. I mean, look at her. She doesn’t care what happened to any of us. Did you really think this—whatever the hell this is—was actually gonna accomplish anything? She’s not gonna listen to you. She thinks she knows better.”

“What?” Evelyn stepped away from the door, dumbstruck. “That’s not true. I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face. You think you’re better than us. You think you’re smarter than us. You won’t make the same mistake we did.”

“No, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, kid,” Marci said, wearing that same tortured smile Evelyn had once admired. “I thought the same thing, too. Shit, we all did. But, you know what, he still got us in the end because that’s what he does. The guy’s a leech, a fuckin’ parasite. Sooner or later, he’ll get you too. But don’t worry, Tozier. Smart as you are, you’ll probably make it out okay.”

Evelyn’s mouth opened and closed. Once. Twice. She didn’t know what to say. Fifteen pairs of eyes bore down on her, judging her, pitying her, making her feel so small and vulnerable.

“Is this why you invited me to your house?” she asked Liz, her voice breaking with emotion. “I thought you wanted to be friends.”

The depressed look on Evelyn’s face was heartbreaking. “Of course not,” Liz tried to say, but then the two Annas started laughing again, making the whole thing seem like one big joke at the poor girl’s expense. Liz whipped around and snapped at them: “God, would you two shut up already? That’s not—Evelyn!”

Before she could stop her, Evelyn yanked the door open and ran out. Liz tried to go after her, but she tripped over another girl’s leg and crashed face-first into the hallway.

“Evelyn!” she yelled, as pain shot up her arm. “Evelyn, come back!”

Victor Criss was slowly spiraling into his second hour of self-loathing when he heard the car horn outside. It came blaring through the open window like a siren. Vic rolled over and threw his pillow over his head. Not tonight, he begged. Please, not tonight. He wasn’t in the mood to go to another party, especially not Martin Davers’s dumb bonfire. It was just an excuse for him to get girls drunk and take advantage of them.

But then they started up again. Two long, aggressive honks. If he just ignored them, maybe they’d think he was asleep. Or dead.

Hooooonk! Hooooonk! Hooooonk!

“Fuck off!” Vic growled, squeezing his pillow tightly before whipping it across the room. It landed somewhere on his desk, knocking over the lamp his mother had bought to help him study. He didn’t care if it broke. The damned thing hardly worked anyway.

But now he was wide awake and extremely irritated. Fuck it, he thought, might as well go out.

He grabbed his jacket and went out to meet them.

Back when they were thirteen, going out with the guys used to mean something completely different. It used to actually be fun. They were a bigger group then—a real gang—six members strong, with Moose Sadler, Peter Gordon, and Gard Jagermeyer. Peter was a couple years older than the rest, but he and Vic got along really well because they were both book-smart and didn’t have to hide it around each other. Gard and Moose were dumb as bricks, but they were big for their age and provided some extra muscle. Henry liked that.

The six of them would roam around town, acting like a bunch of punks or jackasses, whatever the old folks wanted to call them. Some days, they would make a game of tossing rocks at the row of brick buildings that made up the warehouse district. Ten points if you put one through a window. Twenty if it completely shattered. Other days, they would take turns shooting each other with Moose Sadler’s BB gun. They had started out shooting at bottles and cans like normal kids, but that wasn’t as exciting as a live, moving target. Vic still carried some of the scars on his arms and legs. Belch had a lot more because he was bigger and slower.

Then there were the quieter days, the days when even Henry Bowers wanted to just kick back and relax. On those days, they would all sneak into the trainyard for a little freight-hopping. They called it that, but they never actually went anywhere. Except once, he supposed. Once, they got awfully close to actually leaving Derry altogether. Henry seemed to be the only one who seriously meant it. While the other boys chickened out and jumped off one after another, Henry rode the railway all the way past the city limits, following the Kenduskeag until he hit the next town over. The rest of the boys thought he might be gone for good, but he came back later that night and made the long trudge up his father’s porch. Vic always wondered if he came back because he wanted to or because he felt like he had to.

Things changed as they got older, but it happened slowly, so slowly that Vic couldn’t even see it until he was already in the thick of it. After that, there was no going back. All of a sudden, their Friday nights were spent exactly like this: sitting around an open fire with a bottle of cheap beer, drinking until they felt numb.

Sometimes, when Vic was feeling particularly miserable, he would look around and catch himself thinking, What the hell happened?

He was thinking that now, as a girl came up beside him and started snuggling against his arm. Said she was feeling cold all of a sudden, like that was his problem.

“Should’ve brought a jacket then,” Vic replied boredly.

Without invitation, the girl laid her head against his shoulder. Her hair smelled like strawberries and cigarettes.

“Well, that’s no fun,” she said, gathering her lips into a playful pout. “You know, my friend thinks you’re just shy.”

Vic rolled his eyes. “Don’t know what gave her that idea.”

“Oh?” The girl pulled away and smiled at him sweetly, her brown eyes shaded by long black lashes. Vic felt something stir inside him when she did that: a tiny flicker of desire. “So you’re just the quiet type, huh?”

“No,” he replied, “I just hate people.”

Her jaw dropped; then she started to laugh. “Well, what about me?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes. “Do you hate me?”

“I don’t even know you,” Vic said dully, “but, yeah, I guess I do.”

The flame went out in a puff of smoke. Her smile went with it, a flush of embarrassment consuming her pretty face. She punched Vic hard on the arm and called him a jerk, then got up and stormed back over to her friends.

Across the fire, Martin Davers was laughing his ass off. “Aww, don’t take it personally, sweetie. Vic’s a miserable fuck who hates everyone.”

Vic glared at him. Not everyone, just you.

Martin may have considered them friends now (in a casual, meaningless sort of way), but to Vic, he would always be the asshole who beat up his friend back in the summer of ‘85. Two of his buddies held Jimmy Duncan by the arms while Martin punched him until his knuckles bled. Vic didn’t remember how many punches the kid took before he eventually passed out. After a while, Vic lost count. But he did remember, quite vividly, how Evelyn’s screams rang up around them. The sound was still with him, even now.

But another drink would make it go away. It always did.

Patrick Hockstetter was sitting with Martin’s group. If Martin hadn’t spoken up just now, Vic probably would have never noticed him. The guy had a talent for blending seamlessly into a crowd.

In fact, now that Vic was thinking about it, he couldn’t remember how exactly Patrick had managed to get into their group in the first place. Nobody invited him. Nobody even really knew him. He just showed up one day, this gangly, goofy-looking guy, and Henry never told him to leave, so he stuck around.

Now they couldn’t get rid of him.

Patrick had Steph Price on his lap while she chatted away with April Nilsen. Every so often, he would start to rub her inner thighs over the fabric of her jeans. In response, Steph would rock her hips back into him slowly, casually, never once breaking eye contact with her friend. This continued for a good hour before Patrick whispered something into Steph’s ear, bringing a coy smile to her face. Then she stood up, taking Patrick by the hand, and led him away to where everyone’s cars were parked.

“So, Bowers,” Martin piped up again, his arm slung around some girl, “I heard they’re finally kicking you out for good. That true?”

The question stirred Henry from the sharp, brooding stare he’d been giving the fire all night. He sat up and rolled some of the stiffness out of his shoulders before settling back into a smug, uncaring slouch.

“If Hellyer’s actually got the balls to do it.” Henry shrugged. “Fuck if I care.”

“Fuck if I care,” Martin echoed, raising his bottle in a lazy toast. He drank the whole thing down and then tossed it aside. “God, somebody needs to teach that uppity little bitch a lesson.”

“Who?” asked the girl beside him.

“Evelyn Tozier. You’ve probably seen her around. The girl’s like a walking after-school special or something.”

“Oh,” she grunted, disinterested. “Yeah, I know her. She’s the one always putting up those dumbass posters. ‘Hugs Not Drugs’ and all that shit. Goes around acting all sweet and cheerful and peppy. I swear, I can hear her from across the school. That fuckin’ voice, man, it’s like nails on a chalkboard. Okay, guys, let’s all have a good day!” Some of the other girls laughed. She took another drink. “I mean, she’s gotta be on something, right? No one’s that energetic on a Monday morning.”

“She’s high on life!” April Nilsen chirped in a mocking falsetto.

Everyone laughed. Martin Davers cracked open another beer.

Okay, just leave it at that, Vic thought, keeping a watchful eye on Henry Bowers. It may not have looked like the boy was listening as he slowly sipped his beer, but Vic knew he was. He could tell from the way Henry was holding the bottle. If he gripped it any tighter, the damn thing would have shattered.

Belch noticed it too. “You wanna go, Henry?”

Henry wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Girl just needs some dick,” said Martin, because that was his remedy for everything. Some of the girls gave him dirty looks for that comment, but he brushed them off. “I’m serious, I’m serious. Someone needs to bend that little bitch over a desk and show her what’s what. It’ll loosen her up a little.”

Vic and Belch looked at each other. Between them, Henry was seething.

“Let’s go, Henry,” Belch said. “Let’s call it a night.”

Henry didn’t seem to hear him. He took another drink. Martin was laughing now, making lewd jokes about Evelyn’s body and all the things he planned on doing to it. With every vile word that spewed from his mouth, the muscles in Henry’s neck got a little tighter, a little tighter. His free hand clenched into a fist, getting tighter and tighter. His beer was almost gone. The last two chugs went down like nails.

Across the fire, Martin Davers suddenly yelped like a dog as a stream of cold beer came pouring down onto his lap.

“Wha… Who the fuck—?”

He jumped up and whipped around, fists ready to swing. Behind him stood Patrick Hockstetter, holding an empty bottle of beer. Martin demanded an explanation, not that it much mattered. Patrick tossed his head to one side and said very plainly, “Thought you needed to cool off.”

Martin stood there a minute, puzzled and confused. Then he let out a barking laugh. “God, you’re a crazy sonofabitch, Hockstetter. D’you know that?” He slapped Patrick on the shoulder and shoved him back. “Get this man another beer. He’s gone ‘n wasted his.”

Henry pushed himself to his feet.

“Where you going, Henry?” Vic asked, looking up at him.

Henry’s nostrils flared. “To take a piss. You wanna watch?”

Vic shrank back and took a swig of his beer.

“Thought so.”

Henry shouldered his way past everyone and went off into the woods alone.

The cold wind felt nice as it came sweeping through the tall trees. From way out here, Martin’s bonfire was nothing more than a tiny flame beyond the tree line. Henry looked at it for a minute, then kept walking.

Warm red-orange leaves gave way to deep greens and browns the further he hiked. When Henry decided he’d gone far enough, he sat down in the dirt and lit up a cigarette he’d drawn from his pocket. His neck loosened as he exhaled the smoke, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes drifting closed. Then, very slowly, he began counting back from ten.

Nine.

Eight.

By seven, he would feel some of the tension leaving his muscles. His heartbeat would settle into a calm, steady rhythm.

Six.

Five.

By four, something would set him off again. A single thought would spark up out of nowhere and set his whole mind blazing. He would start thinking about what Martin Davers said about Evelyn. What he said he’d do to her.

By three, he’d be picturing it in his head. Seeing it like it was happening in front of him.

By two, he’d wanna go down there and kick the guy’s teeth in. Henry would get up like he was about to, but then he’d sit back down, take a long drag from his cigarette, and start back at

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Evelyn was probably in her bedroom now, reading quietly under the covers or doing homework at her desk. And if things were different between them, Henry would have been there too. He would be lying on her bed, staring at all the stupid postcards she had on the wall, while she worked quietly at her desk, careful not to make too much noise and disturb him. He’d spot a card he didn’t recognize and ask about it. She’d tell him more than he wanted to hear, but it was impossible to shut her up once she got going. Then she’d go back to her homework and Henry would roll onto his side and eventually fall asleep, listening to the sound of her reading voice.

If…

If he went there now, would she—?

A twig snapped in the distance, putting Henry on alert. He got up and reached for his pocketknife, then relaxed a little as a girl came stumbling out from between two pine trees. She was a senior, tall and full-figured, with wide hips and a small waist that made her ample chest look even bigger.

Henry put out his cigarette with his boot. “What the hell do you want?”

“Nothing,” she answered with a sleepy, crooked smile. “I just realized something tonight. Why don’t any of the girls ever come up to you?”

Henry scoffed. “Fuck if I know.”

He assumed she was trying to get a rise out of him.

“You’re cute enough, though,” she said, her voice a gentle murmur in the night. Henry watched carefully as she came towards him, swaying her hips back and forth. He could see her face more clearly now. Deep brown eyes met his in a sultry stare as she reached out to feel his chest. “A little rugged and rough around the edges, but still, pretty damn sexy. Don’t think the girls your age see that yet.” She smirked. “Lucky me.”

Henry lurched away as she reached her hand out, intending to brush back some of his hair. The girl saw this and smiled brazenly.

“Has anyone kissed you yet?” she asked, leaning into him. Henry stared at her lips. They were full and looked soft, glistening in the moonlight. “Hmm?”

Henry looked back into her eyes, getting lost in them. The answer was stuck somewhere in his throat. Before he could get it out, her hand came up again, fingers curling around the back of his neck. She drew him close and pressed her soft lips against his. The kiss tasted like alcohol and cherry chapstick. He stiffened and pulled away.

“Not interested?” the girl said, searching his face for an answer. “I suppose you’ve never had one of these before, either.”

Her hands went to his belt, fingers fumbling with the metal buckle. Henry realized what she was doing and tightly clamped his hands over hers. His knuckles, red and chapped from the cold, were now turning white. “Stop,” he said, but he wasn’t sure if the word ever left his lips. His heart was beating so loud.

She kissed him again. “Relax,” she whispered against him. “You’re gonna like this, I promise.”

Her words coaxed him into complying. His hands loosened and dropped to his sides as his belt came undone. She slipped her hand into the waistline of his boxers and found him instantly, touching him with a firm, experienced hand. Henry watched her, confused and curious, but also—although he would never admit it—a little scared. The fingers on his right hand started to curl. He wanted to push her away. If she were a guy, he would have taken her head off, but he couldn’t do that with a girl. And even if he did, it wouldn’t help. She would just go back to the party and tell everyone he was a fag for refusing hed, and they’d all say that made a lot of sense because no girls ever came up to him anyway.

His hand loosened again. He decided to close his eyes and go somewhere else for a while. Somewhere far, like in one of those postcards on Evelyn’s wall. He tried to go, but he only made it as far as Evelyn’s room, which was okay because that was the only place he really wanted to be. Lying on her pink-and-yellow floral quilt that always smelled like her body wash. Watching her read at her desk, her head propped neatly upon one hand, while her yellow highlighter glided across the page. Then she’d turn around, their eyes would meet, and she’d smile once before turning back.

Her name drifted from his lips like a desperate moan.

“What did you say?” said another voice.

Henry stirred groggily, as if awoken from a dream. “Huh?”

The girl was on her knees now, looking up at him. Henry’s jeans had fallen around his ankles and the cold was biting at his skin, making him shiver.

She kissed his thigh. “Relax.”

Henry tried to, but he couldn’t. The room wasn’t the same anymore. The air was hot and sticky, stinking of sweat and sex, and the floral quilt was wrinkled, lying in a tangled heap on the bed, and Evelyn was beneath him, naked and trembling, saying,

Nobody else will know.

Henry’s eyes snapped open, bulging in the dark. “What?”

The girl touched his thigh again. Her fingers felt like sandpaper. “I said, just relax. No one’s gonna find out.”

Nobody else will know.

She bent down to put her mouth back on him. Henry caught her and grabbed her hard by the back of her hair, yanking her up off her knees. His blue eyes pierced into hers with a sharp, frightening intensity.

“Why’d you say that?” he asked, his hot breath seething through clenched teeth. “Why’d you say that?!”

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” she said, wincing as he finally released her. Her knees hit the ground with a soft thud and she hunched forward, panting, her long black hair pouring over her. She cursed him under her breath, then pushed herself up. “God, kid, I was just trying to help you out.”

Her hand flashed out and struck him twice across the face. Henry felt her nail catch a bit of his flesh.

“Touch me again and I’ll have you thrown in jail,” she said, and raised her hand again to him. Henry shrank against the tree trunk. His face was locked in a startled, childlike expression. The girl saw it and laughed, her face twisting in an ugly way. “Fuckin’ freak. I always knew you were a pussy.”

She left after that, her boots tearing through the underbrush. Henry pulled his pants back up and fastened the buckle. All the while, his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Back in her bedroom, Liz Mueller held a damp cloth against her bleeding elbow.

“God, did you see the way she looked at me?” she asked Desiree. “It’s like I betrayed her.”

“I’m sure she was just overwhelmed. You dumped a lot of shit on the poor kid.”

Liz winced, from the cut and the guilt. “I dunno what I was thinking, Des. I meant well. I really did. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Get a couple girls together, talk things through, but the whole thing turned into such a damn circus. Now Evelyn hates me and Sasha’s never gonna speak to me again. Everything got so fucked up.”

There was a soft knock at the door. Peter Gordon was standing in the doorway with Kyle Kingscott, looking guilty and ashamed.

“Uh, babe,” Peter said, “I think we broke your little friend.”

Liz sighed, too tired for guessing games. “What are you talking about?”

He sounded drunk. He probably was.

“Your little sophomore friend. The perky one.”

“Evelyn, you mean. Wait, what?” She sat up with a start, leaving the bloodied towel on the bed. “She’s still here?”

“Well, she’s still in the house physically,” Kyle took over, nodding his head like he was struggling to follow his own train of thought, “but I don’t think she’s here anymore, like in a mental-emotional sense, if you catch my drift.”

Oh, she caught his drift. “Where is she, Kyle?”

He showed her. Evelyn was in the kitchen, slumped against the wall in the little entryway beside the fridge with her legs sprawled out. When kids came in from the back porch, they had to step over her legs to get into the kitchen. One guy didn’t see her there and tripped, then mumbled a quick sorry under his breath.

Liz bent down in front of her. “Evelyn? Evelyn, are you okay?”

Evelyn looked at her but didn’t seem to see her. She just kind of stared past her with this dazed, vacant expression. Her breath reeked of vodka and fruit punch. Liz sniffed it once and glared at the two boys beside her.

“What did you do?”

Kyle took a nervous sip from his plastic cup.

“She was upset,” Peter said, panic rising in his voice. “We thought it would help. And it did, you know, for a little bit. She was happy and talking again, laughing at all our jokes. Then she started getting all weepy and sad for no reason, and now, well—” He gestured with his hand. “There she is.”

As if on cue, Evelyn started to cry again, an ugly sob.

Liz wanted to scream. “You guys got her drunk?!”

“It was just a cup! How was I supposed to know the girl was such a lightweight?”

“She’s fifteen, you idiot! How much vodka did you guys put in there?”

“Not a lot,” Kyle said, smiling sheepishly against the lip of his cup. “Just what was left in your dad’s bottle.”

“Kyle, that bottle was full.”

“Yeah…”

Peter socked him on the shoulder.

Liz turned back to the girl on the floor. “Oh my god. Evelyn, I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault. I never should have invited you here, not like this.”

“I just wanna go home,” Evelyn muttered, sounding tired and miserable.

“Okay,” Liz said. “We’ll take you home, Evelyn. We’ll take you home right now. Just stay here and I’ll go get my keys, okay? Stay right here.”

Liz left Evelyn by the fridge and told the boys to watch her while she went to find her keys. When she got back, Kyle and Peter were sharing a bag of chips, and Evelyn was nowhere to be found.

“Where’d she go?” Liz asked.

Peter glanced over at the empty entryway and cursed under his breath. “I swear, she was just there a second ago, Liz.”

“Yeah,” said Kyle. “I offered her a chip and she said, ‘No, thank you.’ I remember because it was so weird and polite, so oddly adorable.”

Liz rolled her eyes and pushed through them. “You’re both useless.”

“Ouch,” Kyle muttered, long after she’d already gone. Then he looked at his friend and slapped him on the back. “You’re so not getting laid tonight, bro.”

Belch made a sharp turn off Canal Street. “Where the hell is he?”

They were out looking for Henry, of course. The guy went off into the woods to take a piss and never came back. Belch and Vic waited around for him as long as they could, while the fire slowly died and the group began to peel away, breaking off into smaller clumps of two or three. Patrick went off with Steph and April. Martin was passed out beside the glowing embers. Belch kicked him awake and asked if he’d seen their friend anywhere.

“Bowers? No, I haven’t seen him.”

“Well, shit,” said Belch, rubbing his head under his cap. “He could be anywhere.”

Another guy said he saw Henry walking off toward the main road about an hour ago. That’s when Belch and Vic decided to hop in the car and go look for him. They drove down Kansas Street and combed through upper and lower Main. A couple of teens parked in Bassey Park claimed they saw him walking down Jackson Street a while ago. Said they offered him a ride and he blew them off.

“Well, do you know what direction he was heading?” Belch asked the pair of them.

The girl in the passenger seat went quiet for a second, like she was thinking really hard about something. “Um… south, I think? Maybe southwest?”

The boy laughed at her. “Like you have any sense of direction. He was heading east, pretty sure, towards Palmer. He looked out of it, man, like totally spacing.”

“Great,” Belch muttered. “Okay, thanks.”

The boy nodded and rolled up his window. Belch did the same, then pulled out of the parking lot and turned back onto Kossuth Lane. “I think I know where he’s going.”

Vic thought he did too, as much as he hated to admit it.

From there, the rest of the ride was quiet. At the stop sign, Belch continued south down Witcham for a while, passing the elementary school and the small park where they used to play as kids. Back then, two swings, a merry-go-round, and a wooden jungle gym seemed like a lot. Evelyn fell from the highest tower once and skinned her knee. Vic called her a baby when she started to cry over a little blood. Jimmy said he was just being mean to be mean.

The sign for Summer Street loomed in the distance.

“Keep an eye out,” Belch said. “He’s around here somewhere.”

Vic shifted in his seat, a bitter feeling rising within him. “Or he’s somewhere else. I mean, he could be anywhere, right? Maybe he just got tired and went home for the night.”

“No, he’s here. Trust me on this.”

“Sure,” Vic said. “I guess you know him best.” He turned his attention back to the road.

A little further ahead, just off the next left onto Summer, a figure appeared in their headlights. Someone was sitting on the side of the road, but it wasn’t Henry Bowers.

“Shit, that’s Evelyn. Stop the car, Belch. Stop the car!”

The Trans Am swerved and pulled up along the curb. Vic jumped out before it came to a complete stop and dashed across the road. A sense of dread sat deep in his stomach, eating away at him bit by bit. Now what the hell is she doing out here? he wondered, instantly fearing the worst.

Evelyn was curled into a little plum-and-gold ball when Vic finally reached her. Her head was tucked between her bare knees to muffle her cries, but Vic could hear them anyway. After all these years, somehow the sound still made him squirm.

He knelt down in front of her, gave her right knee a little shake. “Ev? Ev, what’s going on?”

“My head hurts,” she mumbled. “I needed to sit down.”

“Okay. Why does your head hurt, Ev?”

“I drank spiked punch. They offered it to me.”

“Who offered it to you?” Vic asked, fear clutching him by the throat. When she didn’t answer, he shook her knee again. “Ev, you’re not hurt, right? Nobody did anything to you? Or forced you to do anything?”

Evelyn shook her head, finally lifting it off her knees. Vic saw her face and almost busted out laughing. Four long, black, smudgy lines of mascara ran down her eyes like tears and stained her pale cheeks. She looked like a soggy, washed-out circus clown.

“Oh, so you’re a sad, mopey drunk, huh?” Vic said, trying to make her laugh. He wiped away some of the makeup with his hand, but that only made it worse. “Well, that’s no fun. Remind me not to bring you to any parties.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, sniffing. She tried to smack him, but her hand just sort of flailed out and slapped the air.

“You wanna go home now?” Vic asked.

Evelyn nodded.

“Okay, we’ll take you home. Come on.”

Vic got up first and then helped her to her feet, letting her lean on him when she started to feel dizzy. “Just take it nice and slow,” he said, guiding her along every step of the way. He had one hand on her hip, doing what he could to keep her stable. The other was tenderly wrapped up in her fingers. She’d grabbed onto it out of nowhere and refused to let go. Vic decided he didn’t mind.

“Okay, sweetie, watch your head,” he said, pushing her down a little as she climbed clumsily into the back seat. Vic caught a flash of something yellow underneath her denim skirt. Panties, he realized, a nervous flutter setting off in his chest. He had just gotten his first glimpse of a woman’s panties, and they were yellow, bright yellow. The realization made him blush and sent his mind racing with unbidden thoughts.

What other colors does she wear? one asked, whispering like a devil on his shoulder.

Vic swatted the thought away and climbed in. Evelyn laid her head down on the seat and closed her eyes.

Belch turned to look at her. “Evelyn, please don’t throw up in the car, okay? If you’re gonna hurl, let me know, and I’ll pull over.”

“She’s not gonna hurl,” Vic said. “Let’s just get her home.”

Belch started the car.

They didn’t see Henry as they drove down Summer Street. Belch kept an eye out for him, but he didn’t see him. Vic said he was looking too, but that was a lie. He was far more concerned about the girl passed out in the back. He stole a glance at her once, as the streetlights passed overhead, and thought she looked peaceful.

“It’s cool, you know,” Belch said after a while, “you two being friends.”

“What?” Vic acted confused. “We’re not—”

Belch threw him a sideways glance but kept his attention on the road. “I’ve seen you two in the hall a couple of times. Not like you hide it very well. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Henry or anything. It’s not really something he needs to know.”

But he wouldn’t like it. They both knew that.

Vic fell against his backrest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That he was seeing her.”

Belch went quiet. His eyes flicked up to check the rearview mirror. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah?” Vic said, his brown eyes smoldering. “Then what is it?”

“I dunno, man. I just drop him off sometimes and pick him up when he’s done. I dunno what they do in there when they’re alone. But it’s not that. I don’t think so anyway.” His hands tightened around the wheel and loosened again. “Anyway, it’s none of our business. If he’s screwing her, he’s screwing her. If he’s not, he’s not. I don’t really care, and neither should you.”

Vic sighed and knocked his head against the window. In the back, Evelyn was snoring.

“He’s calmer when he sees her,” Belch said, a deep, thoughtful expression on his face. “I don’t know what that all means, but I know I don’t want it to stop. Sometimes I think she’s the only one keeping him sane.”

Vic nodded like he understood, but honestly he didn’t. Belch told him to stay out of it.

“Don’t try to get between them. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Vic.

Belch pulled into Evelyn’s driveway.

It was after midnight when they arrived. Evelyn was still fast asleep in the back, so Belch decided to scoop her up into his arms and carry her the rest of the way. It was one of the few times his stocky build came in handy.

Vic rang the doorbell. Mrs. Tozier answered the door in her bedrobe.

“Victor,” she said, “what a pleasant surprise.”

“Hi, Mrs. T.”

She looked past him. “And what’s this? You’ve even delivered my drunk teenager straight to my doorstep. Wow, how thoughtful of you. Tell me, do you also deliver groceries?”

“She’s getting heavy,” said Belch, adjusting his grip for the third time. “Heavier than she looks.”

“Yeah, she’s rock-solid,” Maggie Tozier said, dropping the humorous act right away. “Mind the door when you bring her in.”

Vic ducked in first, and Belch followed behind, being careful not to smack Evelyn’s head on the doorframe. Maggie told him to throw her anywhere, like she was an unwanted package, so Belch laid her gently on the living room couch and then quietly walked back to the front entryway.

Maggie watched him come in. “So who are you?” she asked, her eyes narrowing into a scrutinizing glare. “I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

Belch took off his hat and fixed his hair. “I’m Reggie, ma’am. Reggie Huggins.”

She nodded, committing the name to memory. “Okay, Reggie, tell me the truth: did you two get my daughter drunk?”

Belch shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

“Because you two don’t drink, right? Because you’re both still underage?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled. “Very good. Thank you for bringing my daughter home.”

That was the signal to leave. Belch went out first, slapping his cap back on once he hit the porch. Vic slipped out next and closed the door behind him.

“Well, we never found Henry,” Belch said as he went back to his car. Once more, he looked up and down the street and saw nothing but parked cars and streetlights. “Maybe he really just went home.”

Belch had to be getting home, too. It was late, and he wasn’t supposed to have the car out anyway. Only to work and to school, his mother said, but how was Belch supposed to refuse Henry when he wanted to go out so badly?

Belch rubbed the back of his neck. “I gotta head back. My mom will be home soon, and I gotta work in the morning.”

“Work?” said Vic. “You got a job?”

“Yeah, at the gas station. Just weekends for now, but I’m thinking about asking for more hours. It’d really help my mom out, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Vic. “Well, that’s cool.”

“Yeah.” Belch bounced his keys in his hand a couple times, then caught them in midair. “Well, I’ll see ya.”

“See ya, man.”

The car pulled out of the driveway nice and slow, then turned and sped off down the road. Vic stayed back for a while, enjoying the peaceful quiet that followed. Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets and began his walk home.

The moon hovered overhead in the clear night sky, shining a soft light that illuminated the entire street. Vic couldn’t help but admire it as he went on his way, kicking a stray pebble he’d found along the way. Once he got bored of it, he gave it a swift kick and sent it soaring over Mrs. Carson’s hydrangeas.

A grunt emerged from where it landed. Vic went to see what had made the noise, thinking he might’ve hit an animal or something. Because that would have been the icing on top of his crummy cake.

He peeked over the shrub and laughed at what he found. Oh, what luck he had! It was an animal all right, an animal called Henry Bowers, passed out in Mrs. Carson’s bushes. He even had some blue petals in his hair.

“Hey,” Vic said, kicking the bottom of his boot. “Hey, Henry, wake up.”

Another kick and Henry finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open and closed and then squinting a little. For a moment, they stared at each other, saying nothing. Then Henry broke the silence and asked, “Where the fuck am I?”

“I think they call it rock bottom,” Vic said, “and it looks like you’ve crashed head-first into it, man.”

Henry gave him the finger. It was lazy and weak, barely standing upright.

Wow, he must have had a really rough night, Vic thought, getting a little worried. Henry threw his head back against the grass and sighed deeply, as if reliving some long-forgotten memory. The expression on his face was tired, tortured, and so very lonely.

Vic offered him his hand. “Come on, man, you can crash at my place.”

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