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spotaus · 2 months ago

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New Age AU (Obtaining Killer)

Hey guys! Through with a bot of stuff for the day and I have a sneaking suspicion that this stress headache will not leave me until I finish some projects for work, so I *may* be m.i.a. for a hot second until they stop.

In the meantime, I want to drop this! (Unedited, unrefined, raw off the slab style)

Andddd @ancha-aus and @papiliovolens ! Hello! (Mutzelputz if u see this, the tags weren't working for some reason, I apologize.)

Hope y'all enjoy!

Ccino had convinced him to leave the castle. After nearly a year had passed since his last true public appearance. Since he'd stolen the apple from his brother. Nine months had passed since he'd sent Dream away. He tried not to think about it.

Nightmare had been finding out a lot about his magic. How it made him jittery, and how he felt like he understood so much more. How it made him deeply paranoid, quick to react.

How it made people listen to him.

He figured it was because he was scary now. The negative magic condensed over every inch of his bone wasn't exactly appealing, and the extra limbs which had sprouted from his spine now acted like his own personal weapons. If someone didn't listen, didn't give him an answer he liked, the limbs moved without him even thinking.

It had taken time to learn to better control them. Even now, they writhed in his wake. His nerves expressed through their lashing and twitching as they hovered just above the ground.

The streets weren't exactly crowded.

Upon word of the King's arrival to this small providence, Nightmare had found that many people fled from his path. His travel party of several soldiers, and himself on horseback. He'd always wanted to ride horses. The traitor twin was someone that every citizen wished to avoid.

Ccino had coaxed him outside with promises of fresh air. Apparently there were promising young members of the city guard that Ccino swore would be wonderful future knights. Young warriors for him to bring up loyally under his name, no fear of betrayal.

It had made sense, at the time, but Nightmare hadn't chosen to recruit any of them.

It wasn't to say he didn't want to. Several of the humans and monsters were very talented, and he did his best to give them praise, but he could tell. None of them wanted to work under him. They didn't like him. Rejection and hatred that had pierced him immediately, he could practically taste it.

Ultimately, they would do better here in their hometown. A place they were passionate about protecting, and with people they cared for. Night would not try to mold promising soldiers into his perfect guard. No matter how smart of an idea it may have been.

And so he'd moved on.

Night had visited several smaller shops, onces which couldn't afford to refuse him, and he bought some fabrics, a trinket, some small thing from each place he stopped by. He payed exactly the price he needed for each thing. He wouldn't bribe his people, either. The best he could do would be to remain neutral.

He did discover, against all odds, that he was enjoying this day out. Ccino was, in fact, usually correct about this sort of thing.

The travel had been enriching. Almost exciting. He'd never gotten out of the castle much at all, this was all new and excitingly mundane.

Good things do not last forever.

It was almost sunset when he noticed it. Torches being set up, a platform prepared. A crowd gathering.

An execution, came the mutter from one of his soldiers. Though he recognized the set-up, Night had never been in attendance to an execution. He was morbidly curious. The crowd held such a contempt. A broiling hunger for blood.

He wished he'd wheeled his horse away when a few people were ushered out of a nearby building.

The prison, maybe?

There weren't many of them. Nightmare dismounted his steed, and much to the dismay of the soldiers at his side, he found himself sinking. Into the growing shadows cast by the dying sun.

He re-emerged beside the stage, where the few people were lined up. Ready for death by hanging.

That trick wasn't one that Nightmare quite understood yet, but he was always drawn to feelings of intense negativity. He knew that, now. Something about these prisoners were bothering him, even at a distance, and he found himself more curious as he stood before them.

His guards, at the back of the crowd, hadn't seemed to figure out where he had gone. He had the time, now, to loom over the small group of prisoners.

The city guards, the trained ones, had likely seen him earlier at their headquarters. They did not speak even a word against him as he stared.

Nightmare stared at these faces.

A dog monster, scrappy and scarred, black fur clashing against a few patches of white. One of her ears was missing.

A pair of humans, both men, one with long, curly red hair and another with short-cropped red hair and the beginnings of a beard. Maybe they were brothers?

A skeleton. His sockets dripped with black magic, and his soul was a piercing crimson, just infront of his chest.

A flame monster, small and stout. Their flames a flickering green and purple. One of their eyes had a patch over it.

Nightmare was not great at determining emotions yet. He was hardly versed in his own feelings, but there had been improvement recently. Understanding new emotions had been coming more naturally to him.

Sometimes it hurt, but he was learning.

Now, past the blossoms of a headache, he felt a bit baffled as he subconsciously picked through the negativity these monsters exuded. Their fear. Their pain. Their loss, and their anger.

Oh.

"Only one of you is guilty."

He'd said it without thinking, practically announcing it with a voice that still felt unnaturally deep. A voice which rattled his ribcage and seemed to force past the barrier of darkness around him.

The group before him seemed startled. Confused.

Well, all but the skeleton, who seemed to only raise his skull slightly. As though just noticing Nightmare was there.

"How could you have possibly been jailed in the first place?" He muttered a bit quieter to himself.

He knew, deep down, that there were many, many rules in place for situations like this. Laws which he could challenge. People he could speak to. He could appoint members of his court to each of these people and try to earn their innocence through the rites of the law.

Then again, he remembered the rage of the crowd. The frustration of the people waiting to see these killings take place.

He didn't know what to do.

Now the prisoners, especially the two humans, were staring at him hopefully. He'd managed to shatter the negativity a bit. He believed them. He knew this was wrong.

"I don't know..."

The mutter came again unprompted.

These people would not have the means to repay him for his help. He couldn't just waive fees, or risk his court turning against him. He couldn't afford enemies being made so close to his inner circle.

He couldn't just leave them, though. Not after he'd seen the injustice of it all.

Stuck in his own thoughts, he was drawn out of it by a snickering laugh.

"Just set them free." A voice followed, "You are our King, aren't you?"

Nightmare then found his eyes drawn to the skeleton.

The others had eased themselves away from him. He stood, now, almost alone. He seemed unbothered by speaking up, his sockets held in an almost lazy posture. Tension going completely un-held.

He grinned up as the King, and seemed to watch contentedly as the thought settled in Nightmare's skull.

He could do that. Simply waive their charges. Pardon them. He could do that, surely. Many royals had done it before him for less certain terms. His mother had plenty of times.

"And you are guilty. You'll still be hanged. You know this, don't you?" Nightmare asked.

That was when the Skeleton's lazy sockets seemed to tighten with a sort of glee. Some hidden joke Nightmare wasn't privy to.

"Hmm." This was a poor choice. This was a bad decision. "Tell me, quickly, how you came to be here. Before I proceed?"

Nightmare didn't know why he was asking. He was... curious. Just like he had always been.

Very few people would ever speak straight to his face. Ccino, that was the only one who'd done it since his change. Since the prophecy. This skeleton had done it. He'd spoken when no one else could muster even a plea.

The silence he seemed to bring to every room. Broken, just briefly.

The skeleton stared at him a moment.

"Name's Killer, your majesty." The tone was mocking. "A while back a buddy of mine got into hot water, and I decided to help them out. Now, plenty of bodies later, I'm the one stuck on death row."

Simple. An admission of guilt.

Nightmare stared at him some more.

Finally, it seemed his frantic guards had noticed him. Found him. They rushed to his side, though not as fast as he would've liked. He could feel the frustration seeping from each armored body around him.

"You don't have an aversion to it," Nightmare voiced, "Killing, I mean."

Killer nodded. Unashamed.

It felt strangely calm, still. Perhaps it was because the crowd was still chattering. They likely hadn't noticed Nightmare at all.

The king turned to the city guard, still stood on the steps. "Free these four people. My judgement decrees them as not-guilty."

And, before any time could pass in the slightest. "Killer, I would like you to accompany me, before you abscond."

He'd noticed it. Killer had undone his cuffs before their conversation. Completely freeing himself from his weak imprisonment.

Killer seemed amused at the concept of sticking around to chat.

"If you would, I would like to recruit your services at my castle. I need a man who is willing to kill. And kill swiftly." Ccino said to establish an image. It was obvious now that his reputation would remain in the gutter, no matter what choices he made. He was not Dream.

Killer's sockets narrowed.

"And what would I get for being your little hunting dog?" Again, it was bold. It was new.

Nightmare was sure his expression hadn't changed since he'd come before the group. That same angry glare that sat permanently along his skull. The magic had an image to project.

His tendrils flicked, slightly.

"Payment, room, Fresh meals, and any other amenities you may like, so long as it does not break our treasury." He replied, "All I ask is that you simply obey me. And Me alone."

Not true. He'd probably ask for him to listen to Ccino as well. Once he knew for certain he'd stay.

Killer seemed to be thinking. He eyed they king, up and down. He looked to each of the guard around the king. The ones who were back in position now, though Nightmare could feel their annoyance. Their confusion.

Then Killer turned.

Then he turned back.

"Mm. Can't be worse than the ol' noose." Killer replied. "Funny way to run a country, my king. Hiring the first murderer you spot?"

Nightmare didn't humor that with a response. He was honestly shocked the skeleton had even agreed.

Though, all of that negativity had been swapped out for a glee. Something deep in Killer had changed during their brief interaction. A hope. Night could barely grasp the edges of its existence with his subconscious. But it was there.

He ignored the crowds as they grew confused. He ignored the worry pouring from the criminals as he had them released and informed them of their pardon.

He did not ignore when his guards told someone to keep their distance. He glanced up. Killer was standing beyond the guards, looking bored.

Nightmare, trusting fool he was, didn't even ask a guard to watch him to ensure he stayed put.

"Stand down." He ordered the guard, who begrudgingly allowed the skeleton to smugly slip past.

His tendrils kept the monster at a distance Night preferred all on their own. He seemed to take the hint.

"They're all gonna be dead by morning, you know." Killer voiced easily.

Nightmare turned to him, confused. What did he mean by that? He'd pardoned them?

"Are you deaf? The crowd wanted us dead, especially me." He chuckled, "Leaving them here is definitely going to get them killed. If the crowd doesn't rip them apart the second you leave, then it'll happen at night. There will be no witnesses."

Oh... Night hadn't fathomed that these people could turn on the innocent once declared. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Did they have a home to return to? A family they put at risk?

The noose was a fast death, but being murdered? That would've been so much worse.

He could tell, by the way they evaded looking at Killer, that he was right. Nightmare would be sentencing them to a new sort of death if he did it like this.

But he didn't have time for a trial. Or several. The sun was going down, abd Ccino expected him back. The castle needed him present, or they might revolt.

Someone might hurt Ccino.

Oh, he was such a poor ruler. He did not know his people well enough. How he lamented the lessons Dream had taken about crowds and current issues abd how to be likeable.

Night didn't know how to handle this. He was still learning!

A trembled in his hand. He tucked the limb quickly away from where it had been lightly clutching his tunics thick fabric, now hiding it beneath his cloak.

"Killer is right. It won't be safe here, for any of you." He spoke. Thank the gods it didn't sound as shaken as he felt. "I extend an offer to you all. You may stay here, or you may come take up positions among my staff back at the castle. Unlike Killer, I do not expect any crime from you, but you will be paid and housed."

The offer was met with a roar of frustration from the crowd, Nightmare chose to allow his guards to handle it. He watched, carefully, as the four looked between eachother.

The brothers agreed first. (They introduced themselves as brothers as they knelt in thanks.) Then the Dog. She said she had no family left to watch over, starting a new life would be for the best.

The flame refused, saying they would leave town by morning, and try to stay safe.

And so, Nightmare left the town with four new party members. Each had been provided a horse, each tied to one of the guards. Aside from Killer, whose steed was held personally by Nightmare.

He figured Ccino would chew him out for this, for bringing criminals into the castle when he was sent to collect soldiers, but Nightmare had a good feeling about these ones.

They did not hate him. Or fear him. He was helping them. And it felt good.

#hoping this posts. i put it into drafts first...#new age au #Night is a little poorly written here. but I promise it's intentional.#i love making the narration feel just as displaced as the character it's followinh #also. might write smth for Killer's pov of this because I can promise you #90% of it is “this loser has no clue what the fuck he”#'s doing“#in a mix of awe and amusement #and he 100% started with ulterior motives and ended up having a change of heart because of the whole #him sensing vaguely that Night was a weird paranoid kid still #OH #and that odd bit in the middle where Night is doing stuff isn't fleshed out very well #but it's meant to be a show of Night making sure his presence is known + gauging how people react to him being perfectly normal #and more importantly #he lost track of his plans. he's actually not supposed to be doing that. he's still a kid and he wanted to explore!#mm #okay #one more note #Nightmare takes those people back with him right? his castle staff is like 20% people from before and 80% people he freed from #unlawful situations or took in when they had nothing #the public sees it as him taking in shifty #evil criminals. but really? these people look up to nightmare because they were at their lowest and now have stable lives + homes and even #families sometimes #it's just cool #inside the castle is a lot safer than outside #even tho Ccino is still the only one who prepares Night's meals I think a good hunk of the staff would maul anyone they found w/ poison in a #mile radius of the kitchen.#raughhhh #okay fr last thing #I love Killer :] Him being the first is so important to me and I think he deserves the happiness ever

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ofthehands · 11 months ago

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Day 7- It's a Nice Picture

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

A bit late, such is, but still here before the deadline lol. I just wanna say thank you for running this whole thing, it's been a lot of fun, and the prompts have gotten me writing and drawing more than I have been in a long time.

This one is a longer pre-Franknub/ Franknub adjacent short about Nubbins taking the same picture over and over again. 15,000 words. Warnings for main character death (like a lot, but they get better, it's a time loop), canon-typical violence (including the brother on brother variety), some ableism, gay homophobe Drayton moments, and general Sawyer-isms.

It's a Nice Picture

Nubbins could feel his blood pumping, and he knew he was alive. He chased the girl down, stumbling a bit as he went, and slashing her all the while. She screamed and he laughed. Everything had been boring since Bobby left for Vietnam, so having an actual dinner guest and getting to play with her like this was great fun for Nubbins. He hadn’t had this much fun in- well- in a long time. She ran towards the road. He hoped she’d get her foot stuck in the cattle guard- that had happened to someone they had for dinner before- but she stepped over it and into the road. Bubba was catching up, Nubbins could hear the buzzsaw purring, so he picked up the pace. He wanted as much time playing with this girl as he could get- before everything got boring again- before Cook tried to reel them back in. He ran onto the road with her, catching her for a second, and cutting her again and again across the back, giggling. She elbowed him hard in the chin, and he got angry- slashing at her harder. He thought he heard Bubba say something, but he didn’t know what it was. And he probably never would. He heard the truck, turned, and yelped, and then he was under it. There wasn’t much after that. He couldn’t see anything. He didn’t smell much but blood. There was pain, for a brief moment, and Bubba wailing and some indescribable feeling. The last thing he was conscious of was the blood. Nubbins could feel his blood pumping, and he knew that he was dead.

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Not consciously, but just because he was supposed to. Then he regained control. Nubbins was in the van. He was back in the van. And it was morning. The day before he died. “Wh-what? Did- did you see that?” he asked. They had to know. It was the day they died- they should know like he knew.

“See what?” asked the less friendly of the two guys in the back.

“The- the screamin’ and the blood and- and the truck!” Nubbins said. ��Y-you was there!” he said, to the purple shirt girl.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” asked the driver.

“I think he’s got heat stroke,” said the girl who died easier.

“Oh! Well uh, I think we got some water ‘round here somewhere,” said the boy in the chair.

“Would that even help with heat stroke?” asked the girl in purple.

“I- I dunno but- would you like that? Would you like some water?”

“I-” Nubbins paused. Something was wrong. Something had happened. “I… I gotta get home. I need to go home-” Nubbins reached for the car door and the guy sitting on the floor grabbed his arm.

“Woah- man-” Nubbins open palm smacked him in the face loud enough the driver turned around, gently telling the stranger to let go of him. The van goers gasped, and floor guy flinched hard, like he was so weak that hurt him, and touched Nubbins’ blood where it ran down his face.

“Hey!” the driver yelled.

“I’m gettin’ out of the van!” Nubbins yelled, throwing open the door. Everyone started hollering something between ‘don’t do that’ and ‘Jerry, stop the van’, and ‘What the fuck is wrong with you’ as Nubbins hurled himself out of the moving vehicle, landing on the grass with only minor scrapes. The van slowed down as quick as it could, and they started to get out, the chair boy asking if he was okay as Nubbins rushed into the brush, determined to get back home as soon as possible.

Bubba was okay. That was good. But he was no help in figuring out what the hell had happened to Nubbins. Nubbins explained it, again and again, and again, and Bubba tried really hard to help, but they were both just getting more frustrated. It had almost got to a screaming match when they heard a knock at the door. Nubbins and Bubba both looked at each other in shock.

Nobody ever knocked on the door. There was some yelling, and Nubbins recognized the voice of floor guy. Then he heard him come in the house. Bubba started babbling, almost crying, and he tried to hide behind Nubbins. The guy kept getting closer, walking down the halls. Nubbins took the sledge from the table and slowly walked to the hall.

“Hello?” called floor guy. Nubbins didn’t greet him, he just pulled the hammer back and smashed it into his skull- just like cattle- just like Grandpa taught him! Floor guy fell writhing to the ground in one good hit. Grandpa would be so proud- this was why Nubbins was his favorite! Then he heard the girl.

“Bubba- drag- drag this guy back in. I’ll deal with her.” Nubbins crept into the living room, following after the girl. She stumbled into their living room and then started screaming and crying something awful, staring up at their couch. What a bitch! No one had ever been more mean about Nubbins’ art, and he lived with Cook. Nubbins bashed her head in quick too. He would play with her more- especially for being so mean about his art- but he kept thinking about how proud Grandpa would be that he killed her so well. “Is this- is this what happened last time?” Nubbins asked. Bubba shrugged. “Shut up!” Nubbins snapped, even though Bubba hadn’t said anything. He dragged the girl to the kitchen, and Bubba started slaughtering them, trying to stay out of Nubbins’ way much the way he did Cook’s. Bubba analyzed the girl’s face briefly, and then mumbled to Nubbins. “Y-you like that face?” Bubba shrugged. “There- there’s another girl who’ll show up soon. She got a better face, you’ll like her face better.” Bubba carried on, at that, packing the easier to kill girl into the icebox. Nubbins helped to package the meat off the floor guy as Bubba cut it, on instinct. Nubbins tried, really really hard, to think this through.

He had this day once before. Then he died at the end of it. Then he was back in the van. Nubbins had never really heard of anything like that before- not even in stories or TV. But he had heard Cook bitching about wishing he had a second chance at life for as long as Nubbins could remember. So maybe that was what he meant. Nubbins got a second chance. He just had to do things right this time.

The driver of the van came next, and Bubba got him pretty easy. Bubba started worrying, that more people might be coming, and talking about going out to check the property. Nubbins would normally think that was stupid- nobody would come foolin’ around on the Sawyer property. But he also knew Bubba told Cook he found the boy in the chair and the purple shirt girl in the woods near the house. So he agreed, and they went. Nubbins was worried they wouldn’t find them, but the pair made it easy.

“Jerry!” called the girl.

“Jerry!” repeated the boy. This was where it really counted. If they took the girl home for dinner, then the same thing would happen and Nubbins would waste his second chance. So, they had to change things up a little.

“Okay Bubba- I- I know these two. There’s- there’s a guy in a chair, and he can’t get away easy, and there’s a girl with these long white pants, and she’s a real runner. She- she uh- she’s real mean and she could slip away from us and get us in trouble easy. So- so you kill her first! And then uh- then we take the boy home to feed Grandpa! Yeah!” Bubba nodded, and the pair of fools got closer. Bubba and Nubbins crept up, Nubbins deciding to go wide and flank them, and Bubba slinking up surprisingly quietly in front of them. Then he heard the saw roar and some sweet, sweet screams.

“Sally! Sally no- Oh God- Oh no-” Nubbins ran out from the brush, then, behind the boy in the chair. “Oh God! No!” he yelped. “Wh- I didn’t mean to make you mad- I’m- I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to- I- I like your picture I-”

“Shut up!” Nubbins said. “You’re comin’ with us.” He tried to push the chair, but the guy turned the wheels off somehow- jamming down some little break. “Hey! Wh- don’t do that!”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you!”

“Bubba, grab the chair-” Bubba started talking, pointing at the body of the girl- split right up the middle. “We gonna get her in a minute- she ain’t goin’ anywhere. J-just- help me c-carry him!” Bubba sighed, putting down the saw, and picking up one end of the chair. The two of them carried him off- like Grandpa- all while he complained. Nubbins got everything set up perfect, while Bubba went back for the body and the saw. This dinner was gonna be so perfect, even Cook wouldn’t be able to complain!

It was about half an hour before Cook got home. When he did, the old man walked in and started searching around, suspicious-like.

“Hey Cook! Cook! Lookit what we got!” Nubbins called. He came quickly, glaring and getting ready to fight, when he laid eyes on Franklin.

“Oh my God- you’re the fella from the gas station- I- Please- they kidnapped me and-!”

“Shut your mouth!” Cook snapped, then he went back to suspicion. “That’s uh…” Cook looked around, glaring this way and that, at Nubbins downstairs, at Grandpa already down for dinner. Bubba was hiding in the kitchen, expecting him to come home mad, but Nubbins had him this time. There was nothing to be mad about. “Did you stay home all day with your brother? Like I told you?” He was genuinely shocked.

“Y-yeah! Jus’ like you t-told me-”

“Nuh-uh!” said Franklin.

“Wh- Shut up!” Nubbins snapped at him.

“He was out hitchhiking! He was out hitchhiking all day-”

“Wh- whu- fuck you!”

“Did you lie to me?” Cook snapped, starting to puff up like an angry rooster.

“No! Nuh uh! H-he’s just t-tryin’ to get me in tr-trouble!”

“You deserve to be in trouble! ‘Cause you’re a liar- and a murderer and-”

“Shut your mouth!” Nubbins hissed. He had never had a victim so damn noisy! Cook stormed into the kitchen. Bubba flattened out, trying to look as small as possible.

“You!” Cook snapped. Bubba flattened further and pointed at himself. “Was your brother here? Was he lookin’ after you all day? Or did he run off?”

“Leatherface!” Nubbins said. “Tell him the tr-truth! Tell him I was here!”

“Shut up, you!” Cook snapped. Bubba, stuck between a hard place and a rock, sold out Nubbins.

“You’re a bitch, Leatherface!” Nubbins snapped. Cook hit him hard, but open handed, on the top of his head. The brooming in his first chance hurt more, and he took that as Cook being forced to admit at least a little that they did good.

“Did you get all of ‘em?” Cook asked.

“Yeah! We did- we got all of ‘em! And the one we saved for Grandpa- h-he can’t even get away!” Nubbins proclaimed, running over to Franklin’s chair and rocking it back and forth.

“Well… I… Alright. Let’s… Let’s give Grandpa a whack.”

Grandpa struggled just as much in this chance as he did Nubbins’ first chance. But, since Franklin couldn’t get away, he got more and more tries. He was greeted with a chorus of excitement with each swing, all his grandsons cheering him on as he tried again and again, slowly but surely bashing Franklin’s head in. Franklin screamed, and cussed at them occasionally, but though he was a lot bigger than Sally, he couldn’t do much more. Nubbins almost felt bad for him. Franklin seemed like an okay guy. If they were brothers, or cousins or something they would have been best friends, he could feel it. But Franklin was an outsider. So he had to die. One. “Harder Grandpa!” Two. “Get him! Get that bitch!” Three. “Kill him! Kill him!” Four. “C’mon Grandpa!” And on his fifth hit, there was a vicious crack, and Franklin went limp- the special kind of limp only the dead could go. The Sawyer brothers erupted in cheers, feeding Grandpa blood, and telling him again and again how he was the best. Grandpa seemed overwhelmed with the joy too, moving around in almost a little dance, and then finally, rising from his chair, actually standing up to bash Franklin in the head one more time. Nubbins was overjoyed, it was such a great way for his second chance to end! Then, suddenly as he rose, Grandpa fell. He collapsed directly forward, and all the brothers failed to catch him.

“Grandpa?” asked Cook, shocked as the rest of them. “Oh God- Oh fuck! Boy- he- he- all that excitement mighta done gave Grandpa a heart attack-” Cook moved over quick as he could to try and lift him, to feel for his pulse. Nubbins didn’t know what to do- this wasn’t right- this wasn’t how his second chance should go! Maybe Grandpa wasn’t dead- maybe he would be okay- but-

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Then he paused. The van goers kept saying some shit he didn’t care about. Nubbins was back. Back in the van. I get a third chance? he thought. He never heard of third chances before. But he had one. So he was gonna get it right this time. Nubbins jumped out of the van again, this time without saying a word.

He figured it out. The first two times, Franklin died. So, for a good chance, Franklin would have to live. Then nobody in Nubbins’ family had to die. So this time, he did everything mostly the same. Until it came to that moment in the woods.

“Yeah?” Nubbins said. “Y-you like it?”

“Yeah- I- I really do.”

“Okay, you can go then.”

“What?” Franklin asked.

“You can go. I- I’m not mad at you no more.”

“Y-you murdered my sister because-”

“Oh- we uh- we killed them to eat,” Nubbins said. “F-for food! Now uh… go! G-get out of here before we eat you too!” Bubba did not like that- not at all. He knew Cook was gonna be red-hot mad about it. But Nubbins figured it was fine. His third chance was going to go well.

And it did. Everything was perfect. Franklin wasn’t even there to snitch on Nubbins for hitchhiking, and Cook was pleasantly surprised.

“You… You stayed with your brother? Like I asked?”

“Y-yeah! All day. I- I went around outside a little during the day, but I stayed near the house,” Nubbins lied.

“I…. It’s been a long damn day. You know? There’s been… There’s been reports, about some of the people we took, and cops and… They’re gettin’ closer. And I… I appreciate you stayin’ with Bubba. Makin’ sure everything’s alright around here… If they ever got to us I’d…” Cook looked far away. Nubbins knew he had a plan if the cops ever caught them for real, and he knew it involved everyone sitting at the dinner table facing the wall while Cook went and got the gun. The Sawyer family owned one old shotgun, which nobody but Grandpa ever ever got to touch, until Grandpa had gotten too old and handed control of the house and shotgun over to Cook. Cook was always real freaked out talking about the day he would have to use the gun, which Nubbins understood. Their whole lives Grandpa made a big big deal about never touching it, and if any of the boys so much as opened the cabinet it was in, they would get a real beating. Nubbins didn’t like being anywhere near it. But Nubbins was always kind of excited for the day Cook actually had to use it. He had only ever seen guns in movies, and heard from Bobby what it was like using guns in Vietnam. He hoped if Cook ever had to use the gun, that he would get to watch. “Eh- never mind all that. You know- if you stay in and watch Bubba like that- I’ll- I’ll make you boys some head cheese, and bring you some cokes from the gas station.” Bubba came around then, to greet Cook, realizing he was in a good mood that evening. “Hey there Bubba. Heard you spent the afternoon with your big brother. Was it good?” Bubba nodded, and Cook smiled a little, earnestly. Cook didn’t smile much.

“Did anybody come by the house today? Or was it quiet?” he asked, taking off his old boots.

“Oh uh- there- there was a whole bunch of t-teenagers. Who kept comin’ in the house. But uh- m-me and Bubba took care of it.” Then, Cook asked the same question he always did.

“Did you get ‘em all?” And for some fucking reason, Bubba told him the truth.

“Leatherface! D-don’t-” But it was way too late. Cook grabbed the old thin three branch he kept by the door, his smile completely dead and his face getting red real quick.

“Y… You let one go?” he asked. “You- You let one fucking go!?” Cook rounded on Nubbins immediately, switch in hand, hitting him again and again and again, “Do you know what you’ve done!? Do you know what you’ve fucking done!? Everything is gone! Everything! Everything!” Cook yelled, his voice getting hoarse quick. “You dumb fucking idiot! You stupid-” Smack. “Useless!” Smack. “Idiot!” Smack. Cook had beaten Nubbins a lot in his lifetime but never like this- the man was putting his whole body into it.

“I was doin’ what was best for us! ‘C-Cause of my chances!” Nubbins tried to explain. Everything was falling apart. This wasn’t what his chance was supposed to be- Cook wasn’t supposed to be so mad at him. Things were supposed to go better.

“Doin’ what was best for us?! Boy- That fucking thing you let go is gonna bring a whole mess of cops down on us! A whole mess of cops and they’re gonna try and- and take you both away! They’re gonna wanna fucking hang us when they find out what we do!” Cook yelled. For a second Nubbins thought he might have a heart attack, like Grandpa did. “You know what I’m gonna have to do?” Cook asked, voice breaking. “You know what you’re gonna make me do?” Nubbins couldn’t understand why he was like this- why he was so mean all the time- why he never listened to him or cared about him more than what he had to to keep him alive. Nubbins was sick of it and angry and tired from all the chances and the dying and he could feel welts forming on his back from how hard Cook had beaten him. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Nubbins stormed into the dining room and he got the hammer. If he had waited just a second, he would have seen that Cook had dropped the switch. If he had waited just a second, he would have noticed that whatever was coming for them now had upset Cook so much he’d actually started to sob. If he had waited a second, maybe they could have gotten through all this. But Nubbins didn’t wait. He chucked that hammer full force at Cook’s head, and realized all those things after the off-white wall behind him was painted red.

Cook stumbled. Dazed for just a second. Then he fell back. Onto the ground. There was blood. There was so, so much blood. Head wounds bleed a lot. Nubbins knew that from when he was the killer. But it was different when it was family. It was different when it was Drayton. Nubbins made his way over to him carefully.

“Drayton?” Nubbins asked softly. Bubba stood a few feet from them, too scared to move. Drayton wasn’t getting up. He was blinking real slow. “D-Drayton? Are you okay? I- I didn’t mean to hit you th-that hard,” he said. His older brother looked up at him. His unfocused eyes locked in on Nubbins as best as they could.

“I… I hate you,” Drayton said, as firmly as he could with his shaky voice. Blood ran freely down his head, dribbling onto his face, darkening all the hair he had. “I… I always knew… From the first time I held you… That you boys would be the death of me… But I… Never woulda thought…” Drayton went still. Limp in a way that just wasn’t right- in a way a living person just couldn’t be. Nubbins was silent. Everything was silent.

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Nubbins didn’t wanna do this. He didn’t want to play this game anymore. He was sick of chances- he was sick of all this. He was tired, and sick, and now he knew his brother hated him. Even if these chances ended, how was he supposed to deal with that? He crumpled in on himself and took the picture with him, stuffing it promptly in his little bag.

“Are you alright?” asked the girl who died easier.

“You look like you seen a ghost,” Franklin said. Nubbins sort of had. He was seeing ghosts all day. But he didn’t care to explain it to these people. He just wanted his big brother. Drayton was mean, and vicious, and hurt him a lot, but he didn’t know any other kind of care, any other kind of love. Nobody else had ever taken care of him. Drayton was all he had. He had to fix this. He had to make this right.

“I… I… C-can you take me to the gas station?”

“To the gas station?” asked the floor guy.

“M-my brother w-works there- he… He works there- at the gas station by uh- on- on the way. It’s- it’s the way you’re goin’, and it’s- it’s the only gas station before Childress- I just-”

“We do need some gas,” said the driver.

“You think you might could get us a discount?” asked the dead girl. “Since your brother works there and all.”

“N-no. If I asked he’d really probably charge you more,” Nubbins said, truthfully. A lot of them sort of laughed, and Nubbins felt like he had been flicked on the end of his nose. He didn’t know what was funny to them. If they were laughing with him or at him. He glared at the people in the van, and wanted to hit them or cut them or start throwing some of their stuff. But he needed a ride, so Nubbins would do his best to be good. Or at least good enough to not get kicked out of the van.

“Yeah, we’ll head that way and drop you off there, shouldn’t be any problem,” the driver said. There was a lull in conversation, and Nubbins was happy with that. Franklin, though, not so much.

“So uh… Were you just out photographing the slaughter house?” Franklin asked. “Or uh- do you- do you photograph a lot of different things?” Nubbins looked up at him. This was all his fault, somehow. Nubbins didn’t understand why he would do all this. He looked nice. He had thick curly hair, and a nice pair of round lips, and big eyebrows, like a pair of wooly worms on his face. He had a good face. And he was real nice to Nubbins, talking to him and showing him his knife and things like that. And yet Franklin had done this to him- sticking him with these chances. And that wasn’t nice. Nubbins was going to pout and give him the silent treatment for being so mean, but he didn’t like being silent normally, and now the silence was giving room in his brain for pictures of the chances- again and again. He couldn’t deal with that.

“I uh… I take lots of pictures.” He tried to remember which pictures he could talk about with strangers, and which he could only talk about with family, but Drayton never really made that line clear, because he mostly just said to never talk to strangers. “I uh- I take pictures of my brothers! And uh- I- I take pictures of people I meet. On the road. Oh- And -and of roadkill!”

“Roadkill?” asked the dead girl. “Why would you wanna take pictures of that?”

“Well uh… Whenever I take pictures of living animals, they don’t turn out so good. Th-they run around and mess it up. Roadkill don’t do that so much.” The driver laughed at that, and then the others, and Nubbins shifted.

“I guess so, man,” said floor guy.

“Oh uh! We never really got introduced, uh, I’m Franklin,” Franklin said. “This is Sally, my sister.” That was why those two always came in a pair. They were family.

“I’m Kirk,” said floor guy.

“Pam,” said the dead girl.

“Jerry.” Nubbins actually kind of knew that one, he just didn’t care enough about Jerry to think of calling him that.

“What’s your name?” Franklin asked.

“Oh uh… I’m- I’m…” Drayton always told them never ever to tell the victims their real names. Just in case. And Nubbins knew all too well how mad he’d get if he thought the cops were going to come to their house. The welts were gone, and it didn’t hurt, but Nubbins remembered it like it did. “I’m Paul,” he decided. He had been called that a lot as a kid, and the very few times Drayton introduced him to someone outside the family he called him that. That was his name on a lot of papers Drayton filled out too. So, since Nubbins was his real name, he figured that was some kind of alias Drayton had made up for him. Drayton did a lot of things like that. To take care of him. Which made it harder to accept that Drayton hated him. Nubbins didn’t want to accept that Drayton hated him. He got really mad at Drayton sometimes- hated him a little sometimes when he beat Bubba or Chop- but that was different.

Drayton had used his dying breath to tell Nubbins he hated him.

Nubbins couldn’t express why, but that was wrong. They were family, and even when they hated each other they loved each other and if Nubbins’ own family didn’t want him, who ever would? Nubbins curled in on himself, and started to fidget, bouncing around nervously and fiddling with his hands, flapping them occasionally, trying to get the sad off him.

“You alright?” Franklin asked. Like he wasn’t the cause of it all. Nubbins would try and explain the chances to him- but it was all so much, and if he couldn’t even explain it to Bubba and Drayton, he’d never explain it to outsiders.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Why not?” Franklin asked.

“Well m-maybe you would- you got a sister… But… The rest of you- I- I dunno where you come from or if-”

“I got a little brother,” said Kirk.

“I’m the middle of three girls,” Pam said.

“Only child,” Jerry said. “But uh- I think I could still understand it.” Nubbins paused. If he said the wrong thing the cops might show up. And if that happened, he knew something awful would happen to his family. But, every time that had happened so far, he got another chance. Nubbins needed to change something to break this loop- he could feel it. So, he tried something new.

“I uh… I had a r-real bad fight with my brother… And uh… I.. I don’t think he wants me around no more. Maybe he never did,” Nubbins admitted.

“The brother you’re goin’ to see at the gas station?” Pam asked.

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell him you’re with us. Don’t want him chargin’ us more,” Kirk said like he thought he was funny. Nubbins didn’t like this Kirk guy, he decided then.

“Y-yeah, that brother. He’s… He’s my older brother, b-by a lot. And he had to take care of me, and- and our littler brother and… I think… I think maybe he don’t like me because of that. We had a real bad fight and…”

“I mean, me and Franklin fight all the time,” Sally said. “And I still like him.”

“He’ll be mad, sure, but he’ll get over it. He has to. He’s your brother.” Nubbins almost smiled. His real situation wasn’t nearly as simple as what he had told them, but maybe it would be alright. Maybe Drayton wouldn’t be mad at him.

Drayton was mad at him. That kind of made sense. He was supposed to be home watching Bubba. Nubbins and the van crew drove up to the gas station, and Nubbins waved at Drayton from the back seat and Drayton glared daggers into him. As soon as the van was all the way stopped, he yanked open the door.

“Boy- what are you doing-” Nubbins scampered out, hoping that because they were in front of others Drayton wouldn’t hit him.

“I- I wanted to t-talk to you.”

“You’re supposed to be home watchin’ Bubba-”

“I needed t-to talk to you now-” Nubbins said.

“Boy- I-” Drayton looked at the people in the van, all of whom were staring back at him. Drayton turned to his employee. “You help these folks, we’ll be back,” Drayton said, pulling Nubbins by the arm into the store. He closed the door behind him, then turned to Nubbins sharply, temperamental. “What the fuck is it, boy?”

“Do you… Do you hate me?” Nubbins asked.

“Wh- what?” Suddenly Drayton didn’t look so mad anymore.

“Do you hate me?” Nubbins repeated.

“What… Why..? You left your brother and came all this way to ask-”

“W-would your life be b-better without me? Do you… Do you want me around?”

“Nubbins, what has gotten into you? Who said-”

“Nobody! I-I just-”

“Why would you think that I hate you, then?”

“Wh- ‘Cause you said so!” Nubbins snapped. Drayton paused, looking away for a second, almost scared.

Almost guilty.

“When?”

“When I killed you!” Nubbins said. He was really starting to get worked up- overwhelmed with emotion, remembering all too vividly looking down at Drayton’s broken body and knowing that’s all it was- knowing he wasn’t there anymore. “When I- I hit you with the sledge- I-I hit you ‘cause we were fightin’ and-”

“You came out here to bother me ‘cause you had a bad dream?” Drayton asked. It was a rare occasion, in which he was more confused than he was frustrated.

“N-no! It’s not- It wasn’t a bad dream- it- it was real-” Drayton swallowed heavily.

“Oh… Oh shit.” There was a pause. “Nubbins… I…”

“I’m not m-makin’ it up! It was real- and it wasn’t no dream either-”

“I know. You’re not… You’re not the first one in our family to have a problem like this.” For once Nubbins couldn’t think of anything to say. He was excited, and relieved, and for once actually glad he came to his older brother with a problem. Drayton knew what was going on! He could help! “Momma… You never really got to know her, but Momma had… visions too. She would see things or remember things that to her were completely real but to everyone else-” Of course. Of course Drayton didn’t really believe him.

“This is real! I’m not- you don’t-”

“I- I know it feels like it-”

“You don’t know nothin’!” Nubbins snapped. He shook his whole body, hard. He wanted to scream or smack Drayton on the head or run out into the road and start biting customers. But he couldn’t do any of that- he was stuck, maybe forever. Maybe he really just died the first time and this was- was some kind of punishment. Nubbins didn’t understand purgatory completely, but he had heard about it, and this sort of felt like that. But he didn’t know what to do about purgatory- if this was that- or what this was- or nothing. Nubbins didn’t know, and no one could help him, and no one would believe him. He felt a prickle in the end of his nose, and then his eyes started to well up with tears, and he got even madder- embarrassed to cry, and embarrassed even more to cry in front of Drayton, who immediately sort of cringed.

“Oh- oh- uh-” Drayton began. “N-now, don’t you cry, none-” he said, holding up his hands like he was approaching a wild animal. “Nubbins, oh… Nubbins… I…” Nubbins was really crying, and flapping and trying to not feel so fucking awful. Drayton wrapped his arms around him, in an awkward, stilted way. “I… I forgive you.”

“W-what?” Nubbins asked, snapped back into the moment.

“I forgive you for killin’ me,” Drayton said. “It’s okay. Just uh- don’t do it again.” Nubbins nestled tighter against his brother, holding onto him like he was going somewhere, burying his face in his chest, despite having to curl up to do it. Drayton chuckled kind of nervously and wiggled a bit, but didn’t make Nubbins let go just yet. “And uh… I-I don’t hate you. I shouldn’t have said that.You… You know how people get when they’re dyin’. I mean- heh- re-remember that fella with the face scar who converted to what- five different religions all during one dinner with us?” Drayton asked. Nubbins laughed a little- he remembered that guy well. He was scared to death of little ol’ Bubba, completely convinced he was in some kind of hell.

“Y-yeah.” There was a mostly comfortable pause. “Why… Why do people say things like that?” Nubbins asked. Then- “Why do you say things like that?” Drayton cleared his throat, and opened his mouth like he was going to talk, then closed it, then opened it again.

“I… I just..” Nubbins was emboldened by the chances- emboldened by the knowledge that there was a safety net, and by the fear that this wouldn’t be the last chance he endured. That maybe Drayton would forget all this come next time.

“You’re… you get real mean when I mess up. More than with Bubba sometimes, and more and more now that Bobby’s gone. W-why? Do you like me less than them?”

“No- I- Nubbins… I just… I get..” Drayton paused, and looked down at Nubbins as he burrowed into his shirt. “I get scared.”

“Scared?”

“I get scared that somethin’ bad is gonna happen to you… When you’re with Bobby, I know you two can take care of each other… and Bubba’s always in the house. But you go out wanderin’ around, jumpin’ in strange folks’ cars. I get… It’s fuckin’ stupid, pansy shit, but I get scared for you. Scared somethin’s gonna happen to you and I won’t be able to do nothin’ about it.” Nubbins asked one more thing, one more thing he felt he couldn’t.

“Do you… Do I make your life worse?” Nubbins asked. “Do you wish I was gone?” “Nubbins… You’re a pain in my ass more often than you’re not but… I mean, you’re my little brother, that’s kind of your job, ain’t it?” Drayton said, pulling back, getting back out of the hug a bit more, and patting Nubbins on the shoulders. Nubbins smiled a little and nodded. “So… Don’t you worry about me not wantin’ you around. You ain’t gonna get rid of me that easy. You’re… You’re a weird boy, but you’re my boy. And I… I… I care about you,” Drayton settled on. Nubbins balled his fists in Drayton’s shirt and pulled him back to him, bumping his head to Drayton’s chest.

When he was little and he had nightmares he went to Drayton. Even though his big brother was so often the cause of them. He would make his way silently, on unsteady little feet to his brother’s room, and clamber into his bed as best he could, and when Drayton woke up to ask him what was wrong- usually not kindly- he would writhe his way into Drayton’s shirt and lay against his chest. Maybe it was odd, but right there it was dark and warm and no one could see him, and no one could hurt him. He liked that feeling, though he didn’t get it a lot. He liked feeling safe. Drayton stopped letting him do that when he was about six or so, because Nubbins kept biting him when he got anxious. He wished in that moment that he was small again so he could go back there. So he could feel safe, for just a little while. Drayton started fidgeting, and Nubbins had half a mind to hold on tighter, maybe even to bite or cut him.

“Alright, boy, that’s enough- got work to do-” Drayton said firmly, grasping Nubbins by his shoulders and pulling him away.

“B-but-”

“No! None of that. Besides- you need to go and watch after Bubba.”

Oh. Right.

Nubbins rushed home. He didn’t really give that much of a shit about his responsibility to watch Bubba- Bubba was grown and he could watch himself pretty much fine. He set the house on fire trying to cook Grandpa a birthday cake one time and Drayton just never let him live it down. Nubbins didn’t hold it against him. Everybody set the house on fire a little sometimes. But this time, Nubbins absolutely needed to be there. Because this was a good one, and he needed to make sure it went right. Nubbins went over the other chances again.

First chance: Franklin died, Sally escaped, and Nubbins died.

Second chance: Sally died, Franklin died, Grandpa died.

Third chance: Sally died, Franklin escaped, Drayton died.

So Franklin couldn’t die. But he also couldn’t escape.

Nubbins devised another plan. Hopefully a good one. Franklin and Sally would come looking for Jerry, who came looking for Pam and Kirk. But if Nubbins and Bubba could chase Pam and Kirk off the property without killing them, then Jerry would never come so Sally and Franklin would never come either. If they didn’t hurt Pam and Kirk, they wouldn’t have anything to tell the cops, so nobody would come, and the Sawyer family’s lives would all go on unaffected. Franklin wouldn’t be dead, but he wouldn’t escape either. It was fool proof. Or at least Nubbins thought so until he tried to explain it to Bubba.

Bubba did not like Nubbins’ idea. In part, because it would mean Bubba would have to deal with the wanna-be home invaders on his own. They knew what Nubbins looked like, and while they only knew him as Paul, the less risks he took the better. This chance had to go absolutely perfect. But Bubba couldn’t understand why they didn’t just kill the strangers- they needed more meat anyways.

“Look- Bubba- You just- you-” Nubbins paused. He had half a mind to hit Bubba on the head and make him do what he said. Nubbins was his older brother, after all, and he and Bobby could always get Bubba to do things. Not as easily as Drayton could, sure, but he could still usually bend Bubba’s will to get his way- especially if he threatened him with a smack. But Nubbins still felt imprints of welts that weren’t there, and the thought of making Bubba hurt or feel as lousy and dirty he felt then made bile rise up Nubbins’ throat, which burned and melted the threats he considered making right off his tongue. “Bubba, p-please? I- I really need you to d-do this for me. It-it won’t be so hard! And- when you do this real well, maybe Cook will realize you can do stuff on your own again! Maybe when he gets back, y-you an’ me an’ Bobby can go into town again!” Bubba seemed to consider that, playing nervously with his bracelet. “Oh! And- I- I can’t be seen by those strangers- but, I could come and watch you- m-make sure nothin’ bad happens.”

You promise? Bubba asked. Not in those words, exact, but Nubbins understood.

“O-oh- of course!” Nubbins said. “I won’t let nothin’ bad happen. That’s what older brothers are for.”

Pam and Kirk arrived right on time. But, this time, the front door was locked, so Kirk couldn’t wander in like an idiot. Nubbins and Bubba hid outside, in wait. For a second it seemed like Pam and Kirk might just leave. Then Kirk started to fuck around with one of Nubbins’ bone chimes, as the pair sat on the porch. Nubbins and Bubba were close, chainsaw with them, and Bubba had one hand on the starter cord handle, ready to yank it to life. But Nubbins paused, holding out a little hope that the two would just leave and give him an easy ending to his good chance.

“I really woulda thought- with the generator runnin’ like that, that somebody would be home,” Pam said.

“Yeah… Maybe we could siphon some gas from it. Get the hell out of this shitty little town.” Nubbins wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“Oh, Kirk. The gas station’ll get some in a few hours, I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah, then we can go talk to that old weirdo again. You know- I don’t even think he’s out of gas. I think he just wants to murder us and wear our skin… Or make us buy a shitty keychain or something.” Pam laughed. Neither of them made any move to get off their damn porch.

“He’s not that bad. Neither was Paul, really. Just a bit weird.”

“Paul? Who’s that?”

“You know- the hitchhiker we picked up.”

“Oh, right, Franklin’s new boyfriend.”

“Oh, stop it,” Pam said, still laughing. They were laughing. Laughing at him, laughing at his family. They had probably been laughing at him in the car too. If he could slaughter them both, he happily would. But he needed to finish this day without incident so he could be free of the chances and move on.

“C’mon Bubba,” Nubbins said. “Let’s scare the sh-shit out of ‘em.” The two brothers snuck ever so slightly closer, till they were only a few feet away, hidden by only tree cover. Then Bubba cranked the chainsaw. He ran out at the two. Pam ran like a reasonable person, towards the sunflowers- away from the house. But Kirk just jolted back, breaking Nubbins’ bone chime entirely, and grasping a piece of it. He ran to the door of their house, trying again to break in, and Bubba charged at him, chainsaw over his head, shaking it at Kirk, but certainly not about to kill him with it. Which was why Nubbins didn’t see it coming. Bubba was trying to get Kirk to go past him, but Kirk just wouldn’t. He was yelling something, clutching the broken rib bone he’d stolen tight, but Nubbins couldn’t hear what he was saying. Kirk moved suddenly, and erratically, darting under Bubba’s chainsaw right as he swung it for show, and Bubba slashed him with it accidentally. Kirk screamed, of course, and it made a mess, but Nubbins was sure that Kirk would be fine.

Kirk didn’t seem to know that.

He turned, boneshard tight in hand. Nubbins ran out then, knowing something bad was about to happen. But he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Kirk lashed out, hitting Bubba in the neck. Bubba wailed, and dropped the saw, and Kirk sprinted away. Nubbins thought about snagging and killing him before he could escape, but he had to take care of Bubba first. It was his job to take care of Bubba.

“Y-you’re okay-” he began, sitting down with his brother. And Bubba looked okay. The saw had missed him entirely, he was just hunched over, and clutching where he had been hit in the neck. A good hit to the neck could really hurt- Nubbins and Bobby had learned that the hard way while wrestling with each other. It could bruise real bad too. But it wasn’t too bad of an injury. Nubbins was sure Bubba would be fine.

Until he looked up.

Nubbins had never felt sick at the sight of blood before, but then he thought he was gonna spew his lunch. Kirk had stabbed the bone shard in Bubba’s neck. Blood was running down, freely, between his fingers. Bubba was panicking, squeaking and near sobbing and holding his injury as tight as he could. This didn’t have to be it. Nubbins could do something- this was bad, but it wasn’t that bad. They could stitch it up. They could save this. Nubbins could save this.

He dragged Bubba inside, telling him to keep his hands on it. He cleared off the table in the kitchen, and had Bubba lay down on it.

“I-it’s gonna b-be okay, B-bubba,” Nubbins promised. “This is- it- it’s just gonna be a scar and a funny st-story one day, okay?” Bubba nodded. Nubbins ran around the house, getting together what he needed. They had fishing line, a needle, and super glue that Drayton usually used to patch the boys up in an emergency. Nubbins just had to find it. He raided every cabinet in the kitchen first, going through every drawer while Bubba whimpered and squeaked. Nubbins found the super glue. But that wasn’t enough. They would need to stitch the wound first, at least Nubbins was pretty sure they would. “I- I’m gonna be right back-” Bubba squealed- “I’m goin’ to C-cook’s room- I’m gonna get the th-thr-thr-th-” He couldn’t get out the word thread- “ the stuff! The stuff to take care of you!” Nubbins ran upstairs, and into Drayton’s room. Drayton would be mad about this, sure, but Nubbins was confident he would understand. There wasn’t much in Drayton’s room. It was one of the cleanest rooms in the house.

He had his bed, which was made, though his pillow was on the floor, and a little nightstand with a lamp on it that Nubbins had decorated with bone pieces for him. Nubbins started there, opening the drawer of the nightstand. The drawer wasn’t so clean- Drayton must have just chucked everything in there. There were keys to some of the victim’s cars that Drayton had been working on, and a whole mess of bills, and some of Bubba’s old drawings, and the old bone bracelet Nubbins made for him that he said he had thrown out, and a box of shotgun shells, and Bobby’s draft letter, and a bunch of bottle caps and teeth for some reason.

Nubbins turned to the only other furniture in the room- his dresser. There were three drawers.What if I can’t find it in time? Nubbins had to shove that thought down. He could do this- Bubba was tough- they were going to be alright. Nubbins started with the bottom one and found mostly Drayton’s clothes.He heard Bubba cry out downstairs- a sudden, sharp noise.

“I- I’m comin’, Bubba!” he yelled. In a panicked hurry, he stopped caring if Drayton knew he went through his stuff. He could cover that up later, or Drayton could find out- none of that mattered as much as helping Bubba. He chucked Drayton’s clothes onto the floor, finding in the drawer one spool of thread, which while not as good as fishing line, Nubbins shoved it into his pocket anyways, just in case. He kept digging through the drawer, up turning the whole thing, and finding not much more of note other than a weird magazine called Blueboy with a shirtless man on it.

Nubbins leapt up, yanking on the second drawer, but it just wouldn’t open. He pulled again, nearly toppling the whole thing, and snapping off one of the nobs. He chucked the nob across the room and flailed for a second, before continuing, yanking the top drawer open. It was messy too- but Nubbins eyes landed immediately on the old, metal, white lunchbox Drayton stored their medical supplies in. Nubbins yanked it and ran downstairs, quite possibly knocking over the whole dresser in the process.

“Bubba! It’s- it’s gonna be okay-” Nubbins rounded the corner to the kitchen, holding the medical supplies tight.

Bubba was sitting up. He had something in his hand. Something bloody, and pale. The bone shard. He took out the fucking bone shard! Bubba’s hands were soaked in blood, his clothes were soaked in blood- everything. He was bleeding out ten times as fast with the shard out.

“Wh-what the fuck is wrong with you!?” Nubbins snapped. Bubba started babbling- trying to explain. “You leave it in! You’re supposed to leave it in you- you idiot!”Bubba started apologizing and Nubbins stopped listening. He yanked open the lunchbox, finding the fishing line and needle, and threaded it as quickly as his shaky, panicked hands allowed him to, trying to focus, prinking his fingertips a few times. Then, once it was threaded, he turned to Bubba. Bubba was two shades too pale and rushing for a third. Nubbins moved to his side. “O-okay- you’re gonna take your hand off and-” Bubba did what he said right then and put his hand down, and with no pressure on the wound there was a waterfall of blood. Bubba fell back and Nubbins caught his head, stopping it from hitting the table. Bubba laid on his back, and Nubbins loomed over him, trying to move his shirt and mask and hair out of the way, so he could get a look at the wound. It was so wet it was hard to tell where the slash actually was, and everytime Nubbins cleared off enough blood to see, more poured out. He eventually just had to make an uncertain stab, maybe starting further back than he should have, but definitely closing the wound. Bubba didn’t even make a noise when Nubbins started working, and Nubbins felt sick. His hands shook more and it didn’t help. Nubbins could have cried when Bubba started trying to speak.

“N-Nuh-Nuhbuhn-” Nubbins. He was trying to say his name.

“It-it’s okay Bubba. It’s gonna be okay- I’m gonna take care of you. I won’t let nothin’ happen to you- I-I promise-”

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Then he lost his shit. He threw the picture and then his camera, and then started to flail around in the van and yell.

“It-s it’s uh- I’m sorry- I’m sorry- it’s not that bad-” Franklin began.

“I’m sick! I’m sick! I’m sick of this! I’m done! N-no more- no more- no more!” Nubbins yelled.

“What the hell is going on back there?” Jerry asked.

“Are you okay? What’s- what are you sick of?” Kirk asked.

“Don’t talk to me! You- You murderer! I- I try to be nice to you- and you make fun of me and Cook and you kill my little brother-”

“Hey, man, settle down-” Jerry tried.

“I- I think you got the wrong guy,” Pam began.

“I don’t! Y-you haven’t done it yet this time, but you did it in my last chance! I- I shoulda killed you!”

“Woah! Relax!” Kirk said.

“Do I need to pull over?”

“What do you mean, ‘chances’?” Sally asked.

“The chances! I’ve- I’ve been having today for- for five days now! Maybe more. And every time it’s the same- you idiots die and then get somebody in my family killed with you!” There was a pause.

“Is there a psych ward near here?” Kirk asked, trying to be quiet.

“Could you- could you explain your chances from the top?” Pam asked. Nubbins paused. He didn’t have much to lose, and if he did fuck this up, he could kill all of them and go at it again.

“I…. I… I keep getting second chances. The first time, I was goin’ through life as usual, and then I got hit on the road and killed. Then I got another ch-chance, startin’ today, here, in the van. It all starts when I say ‘it’s a nice picture’. Each go around starts there. Then I can change stuff throughout the day, but not how it ends up.”

“How does it end up?”

“Somethin’ terrible happens to my family,” Nubbins said.

“So what’s the part about us all ending up dead too?” Kirk asked. Nubbins paused. If they knew his family was going to murder them all, they probably wouldn’t help. He didn’t have much reason to suspect they could help him, but he was running low on options. So Nubbins decided to stretch the truth a little.

“You all die. Or most of you do. There’s… there’s a serial killer out here. Who kills you all, one by one, and then at the end, kills someone in my family. Except last time- wh-when you got my little brother killed!” Nubbins hissed at Kirk.

“That’s… that sure is somethin’,” Sally said, like Nubbins was stupid. He was getting real sick of these people.

“Could you… Could you tell us something you couldn’t know?” Pam asked.

“What?”

“I wanna believe you, but it’s all.. A lot. You could tell us something you know from your chances that you couldn’t know now?”

“Oh… Uh… Your names is Jerry, Pam, Kirk, Sally, and Franklin. Sally and Franklin are brother and sister… Your van is almost out of gas, and you were gonna go visit the ol’ Franklin house that’s ‘round here…. I… I don’t know what else to say, to convince you-” Nubbins looked up at them. All of them except Jerry were staring at each other, looking back and forth. It was Pam who spoke up first.

“Jerry, how’s the gas?” Pam asked.

“We uh… We are runnin’ low.

“I think that’ll do it,” Pam said. “So… You’re stuck in a time loop.”

“A… Time loop?”

“I think there’s a gas leak in this van,” Kirk said.

“Kirk- just listen to me on this-”

“Astrology is one thing-”

“How else would this random hitchhiker know so much about us?”

“He knows our names, knows you two are siblings, and he guessed we’re almost out of gas.”

“And he knows where we’re going,” Sally said.

“Okay- fine, but maybe you said your last name and he figured that was your grandpa and-”

“I don’t think any of us even told him our first names,” Franklin said. “And our last name is Hardesty. But this Grandpa was on our Momma’s side. His last name was Enright.” There was a pause.

“This is a lot-”

“I-I mean, you could tell me somethin’ I really couldn’t know, and I could kill us all, and we could try again next time-”

“Or we could just go with the time loop,” Jerry said. “Save everybody the trouble.” Kirk backed down then.

“Alright, so, I’ve heard of time loops before, but never really dealt with one. In a lot of stories, time loops are either evil, or kind of benevolent- to punish someone forever or to give you enough chances for you to get it right.”

“So is my loop evil or- or not evil?”

“Well that’s the thing. Real time loops aren’t good or evil. They’re personal. Much more likely to occur with malefic planets in retrograde- like Saturn right now- but they’re not necessarily malevolent just because of that connection.”

“Uh… Okay?” That meant approximately nothing to Nubbins, who barely knew Saturn existed at all, much less that it could retrograde or malefic.

“What have you figured out about your loop? Anything?”

“Well uhm… I… I think… I’ve noticed that uh… Well, if something bad happens to Franklin, or if he isn’t involved at all- then someone in my family dies real sudden and usually real bad, and the loop starts over.”

“Wh- me?” Franklin asked. “Y-You think I’m tied to all this mumbo jumbo-”

“W- well yeah. It all goes okay until he dies. Or if I try to keep him out of it. If either of those things happens, then someone in my family dies. The- the moment someone in my family dies, it all starts again.” There was a pause.

“What’s your star sign?” Pam asked.

“I- I uh… I don’t think I got one.”

“Everybody’s got one,” Franklin argued.

“I uh- I wasn’t born in a hospital- so maybe- uh-”

“What day were you born?” Pam asked. Nubbins paused for a second.

“Wednesday?”

“What day and month?”

“Wednesday March.”

“March what?”

“March the… The 2nd? Or 3rd maybe.” The van group seemed to contemplate that information.

“You are not a Pisces! There’s no way-” Pam began.

“Well uh, he is an artist,” Franklin said.

“And kinda moody,” Jerry added.

“Emotional,” Sally tacked on.

“What’s a Pisces?” Nubbins asked.

“That’s your star sign,” Franklin said. “I’m a Taurus, and Sally’s a Capricorn, Jerry’s a Virgo, Pam’s a Sagittarius, and Kirk is a Leo.”

“Oh.. W-woah!” Nubbins was going to have to look into this planet stuff after the time loop was over. “C-could you do my twin brother Bobby? I- I know his birthday.”

“He’s… He’s also a Pisces. You have the same birthday,” Sally said slowly.

“Oh. Wow!”

“So… If our hitchhiker is a Pisces and Franklin is a Taurus…” Pam began.

“Then they’re romantically compatible, great,” Kirk said with a sign.

“Kirk! Just listen for one second!” Pam said. “This is important.”

“Okay- okay-”

“Saturn is in retrograde. Neither of your signs are ruled by Saturn, but your signs make you very compatible… In your first ‘chance’, did you and Franklin make any kind of.. Pact? Like- you promising to come back for him, or promising to see each other again in another life or something? I mean- this one would be kinda weird- but you could have had a blood pact, maybe.”

“How is that weirder than promising a guy you just met that you’ll ‘meet in another life’?” Kirk asked.

“Well uh- with blood pacts, you would both have to, well, drink each other's blood, in some way. Or at least get some of it in your mouths.” Nubbins grinned at that, uncontrollably. He and Franklin had swapped blood- for sure. Nubbins left his blood on Franklin’s knife, and Franklin left his on Nubbins’. And Nubbins had licked Franklin’s blood off his knife, when their van had disappeared on the horizon after they kicked him out. Just to try him. To taste him. But Nubbins never would have guessed Franklin had done the same. It made Nubbins feel a lot of things- excited and jittery and most of all special. He knew he and Franklin would have got along good if they could have- he liked Franklin when he first met him, before all the chances. And now that he knew for sure Franklin hadn’t done all this on purpose, he felt okay liking him again.

“What’s funny?” Kirk asked.

“N-nothin’. And uh- I think- I think we had a blood pact.”

“From… From when you cut yourself with my knife?” Franklin asked.

“Y-yeah! And uh- from- from later too.”

“Hm… Alright…” Pam started looking through her book.

“There’s no damn way you’ve got information about time loops in that little book,” Jerry said, looking back, trying to get a peek.

“Pam, what does this all mean?” Franklin asked. “What do we do? Are we stuck like this forever?” Pam closed her little book.

“Alright. So. Franklin, you and uh-” Pam looked at him.

“Uh- Nubbins.”

“Nubbins?” Sally asked. “What kind of name is that?”

“Wh- M-my name!” Nubbins snapped.

“Alright, alright!” Pam snapped. “Look- Franklin, you and Nubbins are, well, star-crossed. Bound together by fate, but in a really bad way. As far as I can tell, in order for you to break this loop, you two need to make it to the end of today alive, but also together. Whenever it becomes impossible for that to happen, the time loop is reset through the death of someone you care about. I think… I think if we stick together, we can avoid the serial killer and all stay alive,” Pam said. Nubbins looked at the kids in the van, and thought real hard about it for a minute. The only one he really liked any was Franklin. Pam wasn’t so bad, but he wanted Kirk dead, and his family could really use some meat, so Sally and Jerry would have to go too. Maybe Pam too. He didn’t mind losing Pam. He knew if they stuck all together, the four he wanted to die would find some way to stay alive. And that just wouldn’t do. Nubbins was doing this his way.

“Franklin,” Nubbins began. The other man turned towards him, smiling. He was real cute. Nubbins was glad he got to keep him. “Sorry about this. I-I promise I’ll be real good to you next time!” Nubbins yanked his knife free from his boot and lunged at the other man, cutting his throat three or four times before Kirk could get him off of him. Everyone in the van was screaming. Nubbins wondered which of his family members would die this round. And got his answer quick when Jerry leaned over trying to see what was going on and swerved the van in front of an oncoming semi.

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. “But uh- You- you a real nice guy, so you can have it for free.” Franklin’s eyes lit up just a little as Nubbins handed him the photo.

“Oh uh- thank you!”

Nubbins had a plan.

This time he was getting it right. It would be easier to control what was going on with Franklin if he stayed with him. So he would find a way to stay in the van. Say or do literally whatever he had to in order to stay with them. Then, he would make sure the others died off as planned, but keep Franklin away from the house until he was confident it was safe enough. Then he would go home, convince Drayton to let him keep Franklin, and escape the time loop forever!

Simple enough.

The first step was being charming enough to get the people in the van to let him come with them. Which he was entirely confident he could do. He already knew nobody but Franklin would like the meat talk. But they all seemed to like art.

“So uh- Y-you like art?” Nubbins asked.

“Uh.. yeah?” Kirk said.

“Oh! Pam’s an artist,” Sally added.

“M-me too!” Nubbins said. “I- I used to be the killer- at the slaughterhouse- but uh- after the layoffs- I- I started doing art.”

“Oh- that’s cool,” Pam said. “Are you a painter or…?” They might not like what I actually do.

“I do sculptures,” Nubbins said. “Oh- And I take pictures!”

“Oh yeah, what of?” Jerry asked.

“Jus’ uh- stuff around here. Like the slaughterhouse, and old cars, and my family. Oh- and uh- roadkill.”

“Roadkill?” Pam asked, crinkling her nose.

“Y-yeah- I tried to get pictures of livin’ animals, but they run away too fast. Don’t have that problem with roadkill.” Jerry laughed first, again, and then the others. It was nice to be able to be funny on purpose this time.

“So uh- where were you goin’, man?” Jerry asked.

“Well uh… I was just kind of goin’ back and forth around here. Uh- gettin’ pictures. Say- uh- where are you goin’?”

“Well, we were gonna go check out our Grandpa’s old house. It’s around here somewhere,” Sally said.

“Oh! C-can I go with you?”

“Well -” Franklin started with a smile, and that glint in his eyes. He was gonna say yes. Nubbins could feel it. But as he turned and looked at the others, who were uncertain, he hesitated. “Uhm..”

“I mean-”

“We’ll be in a hurry to get out of here after that-” Nubbins tried really, really hard to look harmless, but whatever face he was making did not help at all in gaining the trust of the van-goers, who started all trying to make excuses more rapidly. Drayton was always good at getting people’s trust, and getting them to come home with him. Nubbins didn’t know how he was so good at it. Nubbins tried to think of what Drayton might do.

The first thing that came to mind was fake a heart attack, but that wouldn’t really help in his current situation. Plus that usually worked on men more than women. And the people who wanted him out of the van were a mix of both. Franklin liked him. Jerry and Sally seemed the least determined either way. He didn’t think he could get Kirk to like him, or want him there. But he did think Pam could make him be nice. So Nubbins thought about what Drayton did to lure women. Which was either finding lonely, recently divorced or widowed women his age and inviting them to dinner, or acting really really pathetic and sad.

“I uh… I just don’t wanna be alone t-today. Is all,” Nubbins began. “M-my twin brother got drafted a while ago and… and today is our birthday… And uh,” Nubbins sniffled for dramatic effect. “We- we got the letter today. That.. That Bobby won’t come home- and I- I just don’t want- I- I won’t be in your hair too long- my older brother is at work today and- I- I wanna be there when he gets home- so- so I can tell him but… I don’t.. I don’t wanna be there right now.”

“Oh my God,” Pam said.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jerry said.

“Oh- Of course you can stay with us,” Franklin said, before the others could object. Sally looked fit to hit him over the head about it, but she didn’t. Probably because they had company.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that. Man,” Kirk said.

“It’s.. It’s… It ain’t easy. But… I-I’m gonna be okay.”

“Is… Is that why you did that?” Franklin asked, gesturing towards his hand.

“Huh?”

“Is that why you cut yourself like that?” Franklin asked.

“Oh uh- k-kinda. It… it feels good. Wh-when you get hurt real bad sometimes your body gives you a- a little jolt! And it hurts. I-I kinda like the way it hurts too.I- I could do it again and show you, if you’d like!” Everybody said no at once, and then-

“If you’re gonna come with us, you have to stop doing that,” Sally said.

“Yeah, you’re okay so long as you’re not doing anything crazy,” Kirk added. Nubbins narrowed his eyes a little, but didn’t say anything.

“Oh- uh- okay.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Pam said.

“Well, uh- Wh-What’s your star sign?” Nubbins asked. Pam’s eyes lit up and something in Kirk died.

“Hey uh- pal, we’re runnin’ low on gas, do you know if there’s any gas stations around here?” Jerry interrupted.

“Oh! Y-yeah, there’s- there’s one up this way a little ways.” They went to the gas station, and Nubbins laid flat in the back, against the door, while the girls got out to get barbeque and cokes. Jerry and Kirk talked a little to Drayton, and Franklin just looked down at Nubbins, smirking a little, but not saying anything. Nubbins broke into a grin too. Hiding from his big brother, trying not to snicker too much, it felt like a game. Nubbins wondered what it would be like to keep Franklin. If they would keep playing games like this together.They would have to keep him for that day, of course, but after all that was about to happen, they couldn’t just let him go. They should, logically, just slaughter him after the time loop was over. But Nubbins was lonely. He had been since Bobby got drafted. And even though Bobby would be back one day, probably soon, Nubbins still sort of wanted someone around. Someone new. And Franklin was new, and nice, and if he tried to get away they could take his wheels off so he’d have to stay with them. He was perfect. Their stars were aligned, like Pam said.

Nubbins just had to convince Drayton of it.

They went to the ol’ Franklin house with no more gas. Drayton told them they didn’t have any, which meant he wanted something with the van group. Usually it was his way of stranding folks nearby, so the Sawyers could ambush them and pick them off. But Nubbins knew these idiots were going to come right to them. He had to keep his excitement inside. Everything was going perfect.

Nubbins stayed in the van, curled in a ball near Franklin’s feet, until Jerry opened the sliding door, and Nubbins skittered out, quickly. Jerry jumped back a little at that, but Nubbins didn’t pay his concern any mind. Jerry would only be alive a few more hours anyways. Nubbins looked around the old house. It was weird. He had been there before, of course, putting up some of his not-as-good art, worried that if Drayton saw it he might take it down. But it was different being invited, and different to see the people who lived there actually there.

Nubbins had heard vaguely of the Hardesty-Enrights before. Grandpa didn’t like them much, but Grandpa didn’t like anyone to be close enough to see through binoculars. That was why he moved out to Newt- to get away from people. And it had just about worked before ol’ Franklin Enright decided to settle in. Grandpa complained about him a lot, and Drayton complained about his son Lefty a lot, so Nubbins had never really tried to make friends with the kids across the field. They were weird anyways- the whole family just up and left their Grandpa in the old house, coming by sometimes, but leaving him alone most of the time. Nubbins just couldn’t understand why anybody would do that. He would never leave Grandpa alone like that. That was probably why their Grandpa was dead and his wasn’t.

That, and his general learned distrust of outsiders, had put Nubbins off the Hardestys before he even knew any of them. He wondered, maybe, if he hadn’t listened so well, if he and Franklin could have been buddies. He bet Franklin and Bobby would have been good buddies too. Nubbins turned, and went back to Franklin. The others had set some planks out so he could wheel out of the van, and then run off somewhere.

“Oh hey. I thought you ran off with everybody else,” Franklin said.

“Me? Nah. Wh-where did everybody go?”

“Inside I think,” Franklin said. He was munching on a sausage Drayton had sold them, and he started to wheel towards the house. Nubbins followed close, looking down at him.

“Y-you like that meat?” Nubbins asked. It was a good sign that Franklin already liked their food, since Nubbins had already decided in his head he was keeping him.

“Oh, yeah- you uh- you want some?” Franklin asked, offering the sausage to him.

“Oh- uh- no, we got more at home.”

“Huh?”

“That guy at the station, the old man, he’s my brother- he- he cooks that meat himself. We got more at home.”

“Oh… That’s why you were avoidin’ him.”

“Yeah. Cook’s no fun, doesn’t let me do nothin’.”

“Cook?”

“Oh uh-that’s- that ain’t his name, that’s just what we call him. Like my little brother is Bubba, and uh- sometimes they call me Paul.”

“Paul? What’s Paul short for?” Franklin asked. “Or is it your middle name or..?”

“My name’s Nubbins. D-don’t tell the others.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“I don’t like them as much as you.” Franklin laughed at that. “You’re weird, Nubbins.”

“Oh uh… Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I like it. I never met somebody like you.” Franklin rolled to the door, but hit some kind of beam in the floor, and had to rock his chair back and forth a few times to get over it. He met the same struggle getting into the living room, and Nubbins waited, fidgeting, not sure what he should do. The only person Nubbins had known to stay in a chair like that was Grandpa. He and Bubba just picked Grandpa up and moved him wherever he needed to go. But Franklin rolled himself around. So that seemed strange. Nubbins would probably roll Franklin when he kidnapped him later, but at the moment it didn’t feel right. Nubbins could hear laughter, echoing from upstairs. He ran up the first few steps, then looked back down at Franklin.

“Uh… How do you get upstairs?” Nubbins asked.

“I don’t,” Franklin said flatly.

“Wh- but… They’re upstairs.”

“Yeah. They… They pro’lly either forgot or…”

“Oh well uh- I- I’ll be right back,” Nubbins said. He ran up the stairs, quickly pinpointing the laughter. He burst in the room and most of them jumped.

“Oh, hey,” Pam said. “What’s uh- what’re you doin’?”

“You uh- you forgot Franklin.”

“Huh?” Sally asked.

“He’s downstairs. And- and he’s got that chair- so he can’t get up.”

“Well,” Jerry said. “Yeah.”

“So uh… Let’s go downstairs.”

“We were just lookin’ around up here,” Kirk began.

“Yeah, I wanted to show everybody my old room,” Sally said.

“I’m sure Franklin will be fine ten minutes alone,” Kirk finished.

“Oh… Did.. Did Franklin have a room?”

“Well, yeah, Grandpa always let him stay down the hall-”

“How’d he get up then?”

“Well- when he was little Grandpa would carry him up. It was a lot easier when one of our uncles-”

“Oh! Uh! Well, me and Bubba carry our Grandpa up the stairs all the time. Franklin’s a bit bigger-”

“You can say that again,” Kirk said. Nubbins didn’t understand his comment, but he didn’t like it either.

“Well uh- with me, and you, and Jerry, we could probably-”

“Look, man,” Kirk began, putting a hand on Nubbins’ shoulder, not unlike how Drayton did sometimes. “We know Franklin can’t get up here. That’s kind of the whole point.”

“Huh?”

“He’s fine, right now. Alone. We’ll go and talk with him in a minute. We’d just all like some time away from him for a little while. I mean- if you’d been in the van with him as long as we had, you’d wanna strangle him too.”

“Nuh-uh!” Nubbins snapped, slapping Kirk’s hand off him like it was a spider web. “I- I like Franklin.”

“I mean, I’m his sister, I like him too,” Sally began. “He’s just a bit… Much sometimes.”

“Whiny,” Kirk said. “So damn whiny.”

“He’s… He’s real talkative,” Pam said. “Too much, sometimes.”

“I mean… I think he’s okay,” Jerry added, awkwardly. Nubbins couldn’t understand this. Why did they even bring Franklin with them if they didn’t like him? Why did Sally just let those outsiders talk bad about her brother like that? Even Drayton wasn’t that mean. Whenever an outsider said something bad about Nubbins, or Bobby, or Bubba, Drayton would stand up for them, and tell the outsider he hoped their baby got cancer, or something normal like that.

“You… You’re a bad sister.”

“I- excuse me?”

“You’re a bad sister! You- you just let them be mean to him! Y-You shouldn’t let nobody else talk bad about your brother. Jus’ family gets to! You’re a bad sister!” None of them could think of a response to all that, and Nubbins was done talking with them, so he blew a raspberry at them and left the room, stomping down stairs.

“So… I guess they didn’t forget,” Franklin said, kind of softly.

“Well uh… They.. They said-”

“I heard most of that. You don’t talk quiet.” There was a pause.

“I- uh- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re… You’re one of the only people who’s stood up for me in a long, long time.”

“Oh.” Nubbins heard footsteps, slinking down the stairs. He expected it would be Sally- that was kind of how Drayton slunk around after he said something he shouldn’t have. Nubbins expected some kind of apology. But it was his least favorite van goer. Kirk.

“Hey uh.. Franklin, you know where that old swimmin’ hole is?”

“Huh?”

“Me an’ Pam were thinking of going down there. Gettin’ out of the house a little.”

“Oh yeah- uh- it’s just down the hill,” Franklin said. Nubbins considered doing that thing Drayton hates- where he wedges his whole body in the staircase so he can’t get past him, but he had a good feeling about Kirk’s little swimming trip. Nubbins moved aside, and let Kirk and Pam slink past. Nubbins couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped him as they slipped through the door. “What’s so funny man?”

“N-nothin’. I- I just got a good feelin’,” Nubbins said.

Nubbins’ good feeling lasted all night. The Hardesty siblings didn’t seem to share it as the night went on though. Kirk and Pam didn’t come back. Nubbins knew why, but said nothing. Jerry went looking for them. And he didn’t come back either. Now there was only one more to go.

“I guess… they’re probably lost,” Franklin said softly.

“It’s… It’s gettin’ too late. We should go and look for them,” Sally said.

“What if we get lost too?”

“We’ve got the flashlight, we’ll be fine,” Sally said.

“We- we should got to the gas station and get help,” Franklin said. “Your brother works at the gas station, don’t he?”

“Well uh- y-yeah- but I don’t know how much help he’d be.”

“Well the gas station’s got a telephone, right? We could call somebody-”

“Oh uh, it don’t got a phone.” That was answer enough for Sally.

“Franklin, let me see the flashlight. I’m gonna go look for them.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sally,” Franklin said, hugging the flashlight to his chest.

“Franklin, just give me the flashlight-”

“You really ought not to go-”

“Franklin!”

“Franklin, i-it’ll be alright,” Nubbins said. “I’ll be here with you. A-and Sally can go look for ‘em!” Franklin still didn’t give up the flashlight.

“Sally, I’ve got a bad feelin’. I-I don’t want anything happening to you either-”

“Fine- I’ll go without it-”

“Wait- Sally- we could come with you-”

“Jus’ give her the flashlight,” Nubbins said. “S-so she’s safe!”

“No! Something terrible is about to happen and I just know it!” Franklin said. “Something terrible already happened- and now- I just-”

“Franklin, you can’t stop me from going. You can only choose whether I’ve got the flashlight or not.” Franklin looked down at the light in his hands, and for a moment something like grief crossed his face.

“Oh… Okay,” Franklin said, handing Sally the flashlight. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

It was quiet. Everything was quiet, for a while. That made Nubbins nervous, and he started to fidget around.

“Do you think… Do you think she’s okay?” Franklin asked. “I- I just changed the battery in that flashlight- it’s- it’s a good battery. I think it could last like- like thirteen years. I don’t think she ran out of battery.”

“Me neither,” Nubbins said. “It-it’ll be okay. Everything’s gonna be right like it should be.” Then, they heard a scream. The horrified, agonized scream of one Sally Hardesty. And the deep, low purr of the chainsaw. Nubbins couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my God- Sally! That was- that was Sally!”

“Yeah it was!” Nubbins said. Then he started pushing Franklin.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Takin’ you home for dinner!”

Nubbins set everything up nice. He and Bubba went and got Grandpa, and brought him downstairs. They set Franklin at the dinner table, and put bricks around his wheels so he couldn’t go anywhere. Nubbins even set the table. He made sure everything looked perfect, and nice, and just right like Drayton liked it. Because that night he had a big ask. Nobody had ever gotten to keep an outsider before. The closest Nubbins had ever even heard of that was Momma having her boyfriends, but they ate most of them. Drayton had some kind of something with an outsider when he was a lot younger, but that all fell apart and it just made Drayton meaner. If Nubbins had to guess, Grandpa probably made Drayton eat his Franklin. That would make Nubbins a lot meaner too. Nubbins didn’t want that- couldn’t afford that fate. So he had to make sure every little thing was perfect. And, just as a backup, Nubbins slipped up to Drayton’s room and got that magazine with the shirtless man on it from his dresser. That way, if Drayton refused to let him keep Franklin, Nubbins could threaten to show Grandpa his magazine until Drayton realized Franklin should stay. Nubbins headed out of the kitchen, back into the dining room, where Bubba was trying to introduce himself to Franklin.

“Oh God- Oh Lord- Please- Please don’t eat me-” Bubba tried to sooth him in his pretty lady voice, but for some reason that didn’t help.

“It’s okay! We ain’t gonna eat you. You’re stayin’ with us!” Nubbins tried to explain.

“What? Why- I- I like you, but I don’t wanna stay here- I wanna go home-”

“It’s real nice here. You like meat! And head cheese. We can have meat for dinner every night-”

“My family is gonna come lookin’ for me- m-my uncle’s a cop! He’ll come lookin’ and then-”

“Then we gonna eat him,” Nubbins said, flatly.

“No! Oh God- Please- I- If you let me go, I won’t tell nobody- I won’t tell nobody nothin’!” Their conversation was interrupted by Drayton’s truck pulling up to the house and then-

“Boys! Come out here and help me with this-” Nubbins ran out to help Drayton first, determined to be in his good graces. Sally was with him, which was a surprise. She was bleeding all over the bag he had her in, and thrashing like she was dying, which helped Nubbins connect the dots. “Did your brother get all those kids?”

“Yeah! We got all of ‘em!” Drayton nodded sternly, then the two brothers worked to drag Sally back in.

“Oh my God- Sally!? They got you too-” Sally was put at the head of the table and strapped down.

“Oh wow, a bonus body! And you set the table,” Drayton said, happy for a second before his voice went flat. “What do you want?”

“What?”

“I know you want somethin’. You ain’t nice like this if you don’t want somethin’.”

“Well, uh a little bit.” With Sally tied down, thrashing and screaming, Nubbins and Drayton stood up. Nubbins tried to keep his back straight, to give an air of authority, or at least of confidence. “This one is Franklin,” Nubbins said, pointing to him. “And we’re keepin’ him.”

Drayton laughed in his face.

“You’re funny, boy-”

“I mean it.”

“You… You mean it?” Drayton was getting mad.

“Yeah. W-we’re keepin’ him.”

“You think you call the shots around here now- you think you can just bring home a random stranger and expect him to get fed and looked after and-”

“Did I stutter?”

“I mean, yes-”

“Not that way! Like- like in the tone way not the-”

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Drayton said darkly. Then he paused. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you want him? We’ve had hundreds through here- slaughtered and killed- and you ain’t given any of ‘em pause. Why him? Why’s he special?” Nubbins was half surprised he even got the chance to explain it. But now, he knew he would get his way. Once Drayton understood what Franklin was like, he wouldn’t just let him stay- he would want him to stay.

“He-he’s real nice, and he likes my pictures! Of the slaughterhouse- he- he liked hearing about the slaughterhouse, and he likes your cookin’ and he’s funny and he likes the way I am and- and he’s got a good face and a good laugh and I like him!” Nubbins said. “Oh! And our stars line up! They- they line up good. He’s a- a uh… A Taurus! And I’m a Piscese- and that’s- that’s good together-”

“Oh. So that’s how it is,” Drayton said. His voice was level. But not in a good way. In a way that made Nubbins feel like static was going across his skin. Nubbins, Bubba, Sally, and Franklin were all quiet, fixed on Drayton, waiting for his response. It felt like even Grandpa was holding his breath. “Well… I ain’t havin’ you two fudgepackers in this house!” Drayton snapped. “So if that’s how it is- you can- you can up and leave!” Nubbins knew Drayton didn’t mean that- he had this talk with him before, in another time.

“Well- if that’s how it is, you’re gonna have to leave with us!” Nubbins said, way more confident and mocking than he had any right to be, pulling the magazine out from its hiding place in his pants pocket and slapping it down on the dinner table for everybody to see. “I found this in your dresser!” The magazine, as if on cue, fell open to a picture of an entirely naked man. Drayton was staring down at the table like Nubbins just slapped a bouquet of live rattlesnakes down on it.

“Boy-”

“I-I know you worry about me- and- and you worry somethin’ will happen to me- and I guess this doesn’t make that better but- I-if you let him stay I promise I’ll be good and I’ll- I’ll stay by the house more. I- I promise. And- And I can help more with dinner and stuff- and takin’ care of Grandpa- and- and I bet Franklin could be real good at lurin’ people in! He- he already offered to bring his uncle here!”

“Franklin!” Sally snapped.

“I did not!” Franklin began.

“Shut up!” Drayton snapped, “All of you!” Drayton bounced nervously back and forth. He was considering it. Nubbins started to smile. He was really considering it! He looked up at Franklin, who sat there quietly, scared and sweaty, but polite. “Fine,” Drayton said.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Nubbins started to jump around the table in joy.

“But don’t ever ask me to keep another one! And if this boy brings us any legal trouble- so help me God-”

“We get to keep Frankie! We get to keep him!” Nubbins said, taking Bubba’s hands, and starting to dance with him.

“Listen, I’m gonna tell you what I was gonna tell him, and then you tell him all that-” Drayton started telling Franklin.

“Oh- Okay-” Franklin said, pressed back into his chair as flat as he could.

“W-Wait-” Sally said. “Wh-what about me?”

“Oh,” Drayton said. “We’re still eatin’ you.”

The next part was familiar, but new. Nubbins got a light brooming for going into Drayton’s room, and was told to put that magazine back where he found it. He did, and came back down to a blissful dinner scene. Sally was screaming her lungs out, thrashing at the chair, eyes glazed over in an odd way. Franklin was screaming too, trying to say something to her, trying to calm her down maybe. Drayton was chasing Bubba around, telling him to go get dinner, and threatening him with the broom. All in all, it was perfect. Dinner went the same as it did the first time, except with Franklin there. Nubbins was surprised by how upset he was about his sister dying, considering what a bad sister she was, but Franklin had genuinely screamed and sobbed until his voice was raw and he couldn’t physically cry anymore. Nubbins looked at his family, at Bubba, and Grandpa, and then over to Drayton. Drayton bounced and clapped and cheered as Grandpa hit her, again and again. Nubbins thought about holding him. About his limp, lifeless body. And Nubbins understood. He gently, quietly put his hands over Franklin’s eyes, so he wouldn’t have to watch, or think about it. Then, suddenly, quickly, Grandpa dropped the hammer, and Sally wriggled up and out- running for the door.

“Holy shit- get her boys!” Drayton yelled. Bubba raced for the door, chainsaw quickly in hand, and Nubbins followed. Drayton was slow, and no good at killing anyways, so he hung back.

Nubbins remembered this morning.

His blood was pumping, as he ran after her.

He knew he was alive.

Nubbins chased her. Played his part. She was slower this time, Bubba had slashed her good once with the chainsaw- and while it hadn’t killed her, hitting her shoulder, it had bled her enough that she couldn’t outrun Nubbins for even a second. He could probably kill her in the driveway. But he had a plan- a feeling, really. He knew what to do. She screamed and he laughed, chasing, slicing, all again. It was still fun, sure, though it was different the second go round. She once again deftly dodged the cattle guard. Just barely. Then stumbled out into the road. Nubbins followed, careful, counting the seconds, trying to remember exactly how many cuts he got in.

One. Two. Three-four. Five- And then he jumped back. Lept away from her like she’d burned him. Sally looked up, agony and confusion on her face. For just a second before the truck hit her. It was a pretty gruesome death, Nubbins had to admit. A lot worse on the outside than in it. But, regardless, as he watched it, he started to laugh. Nubbins corralled Bubba, back, into the bushes, out of the line of sight of the driver, who was wailing and crying and doing his best to resuscitate her. Nubbins knew from experience she was already gone. The two brothers headed back towards the house.

Drayton stood outside, not exactly content. Nubbins walked up with a grin, whipping the blood from his knife onto his pants.

“Did you get the bitch?” Drayton asked.

“She g-got hit by a truck!” Nubbins said. “The d-driver thinks he killed her. No cops comin’ our way this time.” Drayton nodded. “W-wait!”

“What now?”

“Could you… Would you help me lie to Franklin about her?”

“What?”

“Jus’- I’m gonna tell him she run off. Left him behind.” Drayton chuckled and shook his head.

“You really care about this whole thing with him, huh?” Drayton asked. Nubbins nodded. “Well… I won’t fuck it up for you. Just… Be prepared if this whole thing don’t work out.”

A day went by. Then two. Then three. Then a week. Nubbins had dreams, more often than not. Echoes of the loops- of what happened to his family in each one, or of being stuck in the loop again. The first few days had been nerve wracking- Nubbins still felt every minute like he would end up back in the loop, trapped again. But as time went on, he started to accept that he wasn’t. He had expected something big to happen- some kind of message from the stars. But life just carried on. Like it had before the whole thing had happened.

Franklin was distraught. Scared that Sally would leave him, insistent that his sister was going to get help- that someone would come- that Sally still cared, that his parents still cared, that his cop uncle would turn up eventually. But they didn’t. And Franklin sort of seemed to lose hope. That made Nubbins worried too. Franklin was so sad all the time, and not eating much, and not doing much either. He was still like Grandpa, still like he wasn’t alive no more, even though he was. Nubbins took another picture of him, and he stuck it to the wall, with the pictures of the rest of his family, hoping that Franklin would get the hint- that he was with them- that he was one of them. But Nubbins wasn’t sure it was helping.

Till one day, at the end of the week, he heard a familiar mechanical snap. He had been trying to help Bubba scoop up the chicken feathers- one of the many stupid little chores Drayton made him do so he could keep Franklin. Drayton kept giving him chores like that, and Nubbins kept doing them, even though he was confident there was no bite behind Drayton’s bark. Drayton said he was gonna cook up Franklin if Nubbins was bad, but Nubbins wouldn’t kill Franklin, and Bubba wouldn’t, and Drayton was never any good at killing- so there would be no one to do it. It was a hollow threat. But Nubbins wanted his brother to be happy, so he was doing that one anyways. Until he heard that noise and then looked up. Franklin was in his chair, holding Nubbins’ camera. Nubbins looked up at him with naked surprise.

“You… You took my picture,” Nubbins said. Franklin examined the picture as it came out, an unreadable but near pleasant expression on his face.

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Nubbins swallowed heavily. “Or at least I think it is. I’m- I’m not a photographer like you-” Nubbins went over to him, cautiously. “I just- uh- there’s- there’s photos of everybody but you- so I thought-” Nubbins grabbed the picture from Franklin’s hands, not noticing entirely when he flinched a little. There were a lot of ways the picture could probably technically be better. But it was real and honest.

“It’s a real nice picture,” Nubbins agreed. He laughed as he started hanging it on the wall, and for the first time, Franklin laughed with him.

#tcmfanevent #franknub #nubbins sawyer #franklin hardesty #very cautiously adds character tags like a rat sticking its whiskers out of its hole #sorry for being so lat #had a lot of irl stuff randomly happen at once lol #not to be too sappy but had wrist surgery early spring this year and hadnt really draw since #and this was the thing that got me drawing again :]#so thank you #also for my usual little tag talk bonus fic insight #whenever i write drayton and his younger brothers and try and flesh out their relationship #i always think of that study about mice in unsafe nests #researchers would play a loud noise to startle the mice #and the nice in safe nests ran home #and the mice in unsafe nests also ran home #because even when they knew better places even when they had been somewhere safer #that was still home

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