Enjoy!🦋
Meanwhile, across town, the campaign rally was far bigger than anyone expected.
Banners stretched across massive metal frames, and the main stage was lit up like a celebration already in progress. Volunteers rushed back and forth, checking clipboards, adjusting microphone levels, and running thick black cables through the grass. Everything had to be perfect because it was his day.
Pulling up to the curb, you stepped out of the car. You smoothed down your outfit, your eyes scanning the crowd instinctively. People were excited. They were laughing, talking, and waiting for the Mayor's grand entrance. Nothing looked wrong on the surface, and yet, something felt entirely off. The air felt heavy, like the static before a thunderstorm.
“Ma’am?”
You turned. A security guard approached quickly. His earpiece was firmly in place, and his posture was stiff but polite.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Generazzo?” he asked.
You nodded slowly, a faint knot forming in your stomach.
“Mayor’s request,” the guard said, gesturing toward the secure entrance. “We’re gonna take you backstage.”
A wave of relief flickered through you. “Oh! okay,” you said, offering a small smile. “Is he-”
“This way, please.” He didn’t let you finish the question. He didn’t answer at all.
That did not feel like Jerry’s usual team. Still, pushing your doubts aside, you followed him through the security gates.
The closer you got to the stage, the quieter it felt. It was not silent, but the sound of the crowd had been pressed down into something distant, hollow, and far too controlled. They walked through a narrow path between towering equipment cases and heavy black velvet curtains, your steps slowing without your meaning to.
Backstage, everything moved, but nothing flowed. Staff walked past you without making eye contact. Casual conversations cut off abruptly the moment you got too close. Even the industrial lighting felt wrong, blindingly bright in some corridors and completely dim in others.
Your stomach tightened. “…He’s back here?” you asked, glancing at the guard's profile.
“Yes, ma’am. He will be,” the guard replied.
Will be. Not is.
Before you could press further, a sudden movement caught your eye near the far end of the stage setup. A small, familiar figure was standing near a cluster of sound equipment. Your breath caught in your throat.
“…Luci?”
The little girl turned.
There she was. Lucia stood trembling, her stuffed bunny clutched tightly against her chest. Her posture was incredibly stiff, her small shoulders drawn in like she didn't know where it was safe to stand. But the moment her eyes found yours, her face lit up with pure terror and relief.
“Mommy!”
She ran forward. You dropped your bag without a second thought, crouching down just in time to catch your daughter as you collided. You wrapped your arms around the little girl instantly, pulling her close and pressing a fierce kiss into her hair.
“Hey—hey—” you whispered, holding her face for a second, scanning for any sign of injury. “What are you doing back here? I thought you were with your dad. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Lucia said quickly. Too quickly. Her tiny hands were gripping the fabric of her bunny so tight that the seams looked ready to snap.
“Where’s your dad?”
Lucia hesitated, her eyes flicking briefly past your shoulder. “…He’s here. He’s...working.”
The answer felt entirely practiced, like a line she had been forced to memorize.
Following your daughter's gaze, you looked into the shadows of the backstage corridors. There were people moving in the dim light. Crew members. Staff. And then, something else entirely. Shapes low to the ground that did not quite move like humans. They were gone as quickly as you noticed them, melting back into the darkness.
You stood up slowly, keeping a firm, protective hand on Lucia’s shoulder.
“Ah! There you are.”
A smooth voice cut through the muffled roar of the crowd. At the far end of the backstage area, a figure stepped forward from behind the equipment cases.
Jerry.
Or, rather, what looked exactly like him. He had the perfect suit, the perfect posture, and the perfect smile. But something about the image failed to land right. His movements were just a fraction too measured, his expressions holding a second too long, like an actor carefully performing a role.
“Well,” he said smoothly, clasping his hands together. “This is a lovely surprise.”
Lucia stiffened violently under your hand, burying her face into your side.
“…Jerry?” you said, your voice cautious as you searched his face.
He stepped closer, his smile unblinking. “Of course. Who else would I be?”
The joke fell completely flat. You forced a small, strained smile anyway, your internal alarms blaring. “Your text was…weird.”
A flicker of something dark crossed his features, so fast you almost missed it. “Ah,” he said, waving it off casually. “Busy morning.”
That wasn’t an explanation. Jerry never dismissed you like that. Your eyes lingered on him, studying the details, and that was when the pieces stopped lining up entirely.
“…Where’s your tie?” you asked quietly. It slipped out before you could stop it.
He paused, his hands freezing for a fraction of a second. Then he smiled again. “Oh- uh, wardrobe adjustment. Trying something new.”
You frowned, your grip on Lucia tightening. “You picked that tie out this morning, Jerry. The purple one with the polka dots. You love that tie.”
Another brief pause. “Right,” he said, nodding once. “It didn’t photograph well.”
That made absolutely no sense. Jerry was meticulous about his wardrobe weeks in advance. As you stared at him, your gaze drifted down to his left hand.
It was completely empty.
“…Where’s your ring?” you whispered.
This time, the man posing as your husband did not answer right away. He looked down at his bare finger, as if he were noticing its absence for the very first time, before looking back up at you.
“Oh,” he said smoothly. “Had to take it off.”
“For what?”
“A precaution. Things can get…unpredictable in large crowds. Didn’t want to risk losing it.”
You stared at him, a cold dread washing over your skin. Jerry would lose sleep over misplacing his wedding band for five minutes. There was absolutely no way he would casually remove it and leave it behind.
Lucia’s small fingers curled tightly into your sleeve. “…Mommy,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“I know,” you murmured under your breath, keeping your eyes locked on the stranger.
He took a step closer, but you stood your ground, refusing to move toward him.
“Everything is under control,” he said, his tone too smooth, too certain. “And we’re exactly where we need to be.”
That same strange, mechanical weight slipped into his voice again, heavy and threatening, before vanishing just as fast.
“…Jerry,” you said carefully, your voice shaking despite yourself. “What’s going on?”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you like a specimen under a microscope. Then he smiled his perfect, empty smile. “You worry too much.”
It was almost something your husband would say. Almost. But not like that. Never with eyes that dead.
Lucia leaned in closer, pressing her entire weight against your legs. “Mommy…” she whimpered, the tears finally spilling over. “…that’s not Daddy.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. You didn't respond because deep down, you already knew. You didn't say anything at first. You just looked at him, really looked at the counterfeit smile and the stolen posture.
“Take my hand,” Titus said, using Jerry's voice as he held out a palm, acting as if this was all part of the schedule.
You did not move. You stepped back, just one deliberate step, pulling Lucia behind you.
“No,” you said quietly.
Something in his expression broke. The perfect mayoral smile vanished, replaced by a cold, vacant stare. You did not wait for him to react. You turned on your heel, pulling Lucia with you.
“Come on-”
You did not know where you were going, just away from him. Your heels clicked against the floorboards faster and faster, your breathing picking up as you sprinted past heavy equipment and dark curtains, desperate for an exit.
“Ma’am-” a security voice called out from the dark. You ignored it. “Stop!-”
No. No, no, no.
You reached the edge of the backstage exit, the light of the outdoor rally visible just beyond the threshold, when a massive shadow dropped directly in front of you.
You froze. The shape in front of you wasn't walking like a man. It was lower, closer to the ground, moving with a horrific, sickening speed. You stumbled backward, gasping for air as you threw your arm out to shield Lucia.
“What!— What are you?!-”
The creature stood up slowly, its joints popping and shifting as it lengthened back into that familiar, tailored human shape, fixing the face until it looked like Jerry once more.
“You were leaving,” Titus said, completely dropping the polite charade. The voice belonged to Jerry, but the chilling, predatory tone belonged entirely to the Insect King.
“Stay back,” you commanded, your voice cracking as you tried to sound brave.
Titus tilted his head, almost impressed. “You noticed. Good. That makes this so much easier!”
He reached into his tailored jacket. You flinched, expecting a weapon, but he only pulled out a small, glinting object. He held it between his fingers, letting the bright stage lights catch the gold band.
Jerry’s wedding ring.
“You asked about this,” he said lightly.
Your chest tightened so hard you could barely breathe. “Where is he?” you demanded, your voice breaking.
Titus did not answer. Instead, he took a slow, deliberate step forward, cornering you against the equipment stacks. “If tonight goes well, you get him back.”
Your heart slammed violently against your ribs. “And if it doesn’t…”
He let the sentence hang in the air. He didn't need to finish it; your mind filled in the horrific blank space for him.
“No-” you whispered.
Titus crouched down slightly, bringing his stolen face right to your eye level. His movements were controlled, precise, and infinitely worse than outright aggression.
“You’re going to walk out there,” he said, nodding toward the brightly lit stage. “You’re going to smile. You’re going to stand beside me.”
You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “I can’t-”
“You can,” he said softly.
Almost gently, he reached into his pocket again. He pulled out your husband’s smartphone. The screen lit up, displaying a lock-screen photograph taken just last year on Lucia’s birthday.
It was a candid moment, bright and bursting with color. Lucia was in the center, a bright pink birthday crown sitting crookedly on her head, her face covered in a messy smudge of chocolate frosting as she laughed mid-sentence. On one side of her, Jerry was grinning widely, his eyes crinkled with genuine, unscripted joy as he pointed at the cake. On the other side was you, leaning in with your arms wrapped tightly around them both, your smile matching theirs. It was a snapshot of pure, uncomplicated safety; a perfect portrait of a loving family.
Now, that beautiful memory was trapped beneath the glass, held in the steady hand of a monster.
“You have something I want,” Titus continued, his voice dropping into a low, absolute decree as his thumb casually brushed over the glowing image of your family. “And I have everything you care about.”
Before he could even finish the sentence, your hand flew out. Smack.
You swatted the phone directly out of his hand, sending it clattering across the concrete floor. Titus froze, his head snapping to the side from the sheer force of your movement. You stood over him, breathing heavily, your hands curled into tight fists.
“Get that out of my face,” you snarled, stepping between him and Lucia like a lioness.
Titus slowly turned his head back to you, his expression unblinking as he calmly knelt down, picked up the phone, and wiped a speck of dust off the screen.
He rose back to his full height, his eyes glinting with a twisted sort of amusement as he looked you up and down.
“My, my,” Titus purred, tapping the edge of the phone against his palm. “Aren't we feisty? I must admit...I completely see why the Mayor chose you. You certainly have a lot more backbone than he does.”
His smile widened, sharp and empty. “But let's see how much of that fire is left if you don't step out onto that stage.”
The threat was still there, but you had made it clear you wouldn't be pushed around without a fight.
Your breathing hitched. Lucia looked up at you, clutching her stuffed bunny like a lifeline. “…Mommy?”
You swallowed the lump of terror in your throat. Your hands lightly trembled, but you pulled your daughter tight against your side, your eyes narrowing at the impostor.
“Don’t touch her,” you said, your voice dropping into a low, fierce whisper.
Titus straightened back up to his full height, adjusting his cuffs. “I don’t have to. Not if you cooperate.”
The silence of the backstage area pressed in around you, heavy and suffocating, while the crowd out in the plaza roared in the distance. Thousands of people were cheering, completely unaware of the nightmare unfolding just behind the curtain.
You closed your eyes for half a second, taking one deep, steadying breath, and then opened them.
“…What do you want me to do?” you asked.
Titus smiled. It was that same perfect, practiced, terrifying campaign smile.
“Exactly what you always do,” he said, gesturing toward the blinding lights of the stage entrance. “Stand by your husband. Come on.”
Lucia’s small, shaking hand slid into yours. You squeezed it back, not because you were okay, but because you needed her to think you were. Holding each other tightly, with no real choice left, you turned away from the darkness and walked out into the light.
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A/N: This chapter took longer than expected because I had WAY too many ideas I wanted to add and kept trying to perfect everything with editing and whatnot. I was thinking of posting this one yesterday. Hopefully it was worth the wait :) Thank you guys for sticking around <3 Also for any confusion on the security guard I was thinking that since they were creating humans using Dr. Sam’s tech why not add an extra robot controlled by the council :)
(Do not own gif)