You hum softly to yourself, sliding the spatula along the pan and flipping the eggs as they stick to the surface. It’s early morning, long streaks of sunlight just barely begin to peek into the cabin.
You’ve been here just about six months, but really it’s felt like home since you first stepped foot in it. You’re not entirely sure why he kidnapped you, you would’ve come willingly.
Yet, it still feels like he’s suspicious of you. He watches the door and hovers around you when the two of you go outside for walks. You’re not exactly sure how else to tell him that you’re absolutely madly in love with him, he just seems to refuse to believe it.
You hear a pounding of footsteps from the bedroom, frantic and panicked as he makes his way down the hall way.
“Darling-“ When he reaches the kitchen, he comes to a screeching halt at the sight of you, breathless from running and bleary eyed from just waking up.
“What are you doing?” It comes out harsher than he means it, you’re sure of it.
“Breakfast.” You lift the pan to show him. “Don’t you know what day it is?”
“Of course I know what day it is.” He’s suddenly softer, relaxing at just the sound of your voice. Your heart melts at that. He truly does love you, you know that.
You smile to yourself, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, since I can’t go anywhere, a Valentine’s Day breakfast will have to be enough.”
Peter perks up, a grin spreading across his face. “Anything you do for me is enough.” He comes up behind you, hugging you from behind as you cook on the stove. He buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent as his hands slide over your stomach lovingly.
“I got you some gifts.” He kisses your ear, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. “Everything for Valentine’s Day. Flowers, chocolates, books, jewelry. It’s our first. You deserve everything.”
“You deserve things too.” You say quietly.
He pauses, confused. “All I want is your presence.”
“Well, you should want for more.” You turn, sliding your body against his so that you’re chest to chest. “Peter, you’re…” you look down, fingers ghosting along the sleeves of his shirt, barely daring to the touch the skin underneath. “Amazing. You do all these wonderful things for me and I… just sit around and accept your gifts.”
You sigh, “You deserve more than just a breakfast.”
He gives a light smile, pressing his index finger under your chin to raise it up high enough to kiss you. It’s a tender kiss, one you sigh into before you hear the sizzle of the eggs burning behind you.
You panic, pulling away and nearly falling onto the stove. Peter catches you, saving you from permanently scarring yourself before you rip the pan from the stovetop.
“No no no…” You frown at the burnt eggs. “Your breakfast…”
“It’s okay.” He says. “It’s not I could do any better.”
“This was supposed to be special.” You’re not even sure why you’re getting so worked up over a couple of eggs, but you feel tears spring to your eyes. “I was supposed to make you breakfast. It was supposed to be tasty and perfect and you were supposed to love it.”
“I love it anyway-“
“That’s exactly the problem!” You burst into tears. Peter’s eyes widen as he frantically tries to calm you.
“I don’t understand, you’re perfect, I don’t care if you burn the breakfast. Hell, you could burn the house down if you wanted and I wouldn’t mind.”
The tears continue to fall down your face. You feel like a child as you wipe your face. “You do all these amazing things for me Peter and I just don’t deserve them!”
Peter reels back at this. He shakes his head, voice suddenly firm but still soft. “I want you to listen to me, darling, okay?” He presses his palm to your cheek, wiping away stray tears as you look up at him. “You deserve this.”
He pauses, letting the statement linger before taking a deep breath. “It’s not a burden for me to do things for you. You could never be a burden. I would carry all the weight in the world for you.”
You press your hand over his, letting him caress your face. “I want to carry your weight too.”
He looks down at you, eyebrows scrunching, “You don’t-“
“You deserve this relationship too, Peter.” You tell him. “Don’t shoulder everything, please, let me be your equal.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, but slowly, he nods. “It’s hard.”
“I know it is.” You smile at him. “So let’s do it together.”
The two of you go out for breakfast. As you’re sitting across from him, outside of the immediate vicinity of the cabin for the first time in months, you can’t help but notice that he seems more relaxed with you outside than he ever did with you inside.
Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Leg Amputation, Agoraphobia, Kidnapping, Nightmares
Enjoy :)
You're drifting. Images come and go from your mind, never sticking around enough to really remember. Where are you? Home? The diner? Your apartment?
You're at your apartment. At least, you think you are. The ceiling feels much too tall. You're in your bedroom. No, the kitchen.
Lucy is making you coffee. You shiver, the apartment is cold. Was it always this cold? You attempt to walk over to her, reaching for the warm cup, but you can't seem to move. Lucy turns to look at you. She's mouthing something, but nothing is coming out. The silence is deafening.
Then suddenly the world is loud. She's screaming, "Please! Please don't leave me!"
Her face morphs, twisting into Don's face, then TK's. They're all screaming. A blob of flesh, moving towards you.
"Darling, please don't leave me!"
You step back, suddenly able to regain use of your limbs. You turn heading towards the door. They yell after you, even as you slip outside and slam the door shut, holding them inside.
You're not on the street. You're in the woods. It's cold. A heavy snow has fallen. You trudge forward. When you look back, the apartment building has disappeared. You shiver, tugging your sweatshirt closer to your body as you keep moving.
You hear a car revving... or is it a van? You swivel your head around. The soft rumbling changes to a guttural growl. Your eyes land on a dog a few meters away.
It arches it’s back in a defensive position, growling lightly. As it sneers, you see rusted metal teeth protrude from it's mouth. It snaps, biting the air before pouncing at you.
You stumble back, racing through the woods. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, along with the snapping of the dog's metal teeth. The snow fall gets heavier as you run. Is it even winter? You're so cold. You need to leave. You need to escape-
As you step, your left leg sinks into the snow. You tug, but it stays stuck. You can still hear the dog behind you. There's snow in your shoe, you can't feel your leg. It's so cold. It's so cold. You close your eyes. You hear the snap of metal teeth and a sickening crunch.
You jolt awake, hands gripping for something and finding sheets. Where are you? You feel dizzy... and cold. Groggily, your eyes try to focus.
"Lay back down, you're okay." A hand presses you back down. You're in a bed. "Just relax."
You blink. A concerned face stares down at you.
That's when everything hits you. The kidnapping. The escape attempt.
The bear trap.
You struggle, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows.
"Really, you need to rest." Peter tries to soothe you.
"I need to see-" You grunt, reaching a shaky hand towards your legs. "I just need-"
"Fine. I'll show you, just lay back. You're pretty heavily drugged."
Reluctantly, you lean back against the pillow he tucked behind your head. You shiver, secretly glad to not have to move. All your limbs feel heavy.
"Don't freak out." Is all he says before he flips the blanket off you.
It takes a moment to process. Your eyes trail down your leg to where it... just stops. Just above the knee is where your leg ends. A thick gauze is wrapped around the wound, already bloodied. You dread to think of how much blood you lost.
Maybe its the drugs, or maybe it's just the shocking revelation, but you don't feel angry. Not at Peter, not at the bear trap, not even at the circumstances. Instead, you start to cry. Heavy tears fall down your face, which is pale from the blood loss. To your own surprise, you reach out to Peter.
"Y-You're not g-going to let me die, right?" Is all you can choke out between the tears and the drugs.
His eyes widen, "Of course not." He grabs your hand. His palms are warm as he rubs up your arm. "I disinfected it and you have painkillers and antibiotics in your system. I'll take care of you, I promise."
Tears still fall. You rub at them with your hand. You feel him gingerly crawl into the bed with you, arm wrapping around your shoulders to cradle you lovingly. "It's okay, it's okay."
You clutch onto his shirt. You tremble, pressing your hands against his warm body. You wince as you feel you leg, or rather what used to be your leg, brush against the bed. You don't want to die here. You don't want to die of infection.
"I won't let anything happen to you." Peter buries his face in your hair as he holds you. "Don't worry, the next round of painkillers should be hitting you soon."
They already are. You find yourself unable to cry anymore, a wave of blissful indifference washing over you. Your eyelids start to droop.
"I have to go to the store to grab more medical supplies." Peter lays you down gently as he gets up. "Rest while I'm gone."
You try to reach for him again, but you find that your hand won't move. "Will y-you get me apple j-juice?" Your words are slurred. "For some r-reason I really want apple juice."
He gives a light smile, petting your hair. "Of course, darling."
You fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
You wake feeling like someone just shoved you down several flights of stairs. You groan, trying to sit up. You're alone. Once again, you pull the covers off.
It's almost like you didn't expect it to be real. Yet, here it is. You stare at your amputated limb. A wave of nausea rushes over you. Shakily, you reach a hand down, feeling down your leg to where it simply stops. Above everything else, it simply feels weird.
The door opens and you jerk your head up, eyes wide as Peter steps in.
"Oh, you're awake."
He's holding a few pills as well as a glass of apple juice. Saying nothing, you reach for the glass.
"Take the pills first, then you can down the juice." He tells you, handing you the cup. "These painkillers aren't as strong, so you won't be sleeping as much."
You gulp down the pills, happy to drink all the apple juice. You've never craved apple juice a day in your life, but it was like food to a starving man right now.
Peter gave a light laugh, "Your body must need the sugars." He says, kneeling by the bed to watch you.
When you finish, you hand him the cup, wiping your mouth.
The two of you sit in silence for a long moment.
"How do you feel, darling?" He asks, reaching to look at your wound. "I changed the bandage again while you slept."
You shrug, chewing on your lip.
His eyes slide up to look at yours, hand ghosting over the bandages. "Are you okay?"
The truth is, you don't have a single thing to say. Anything you could say would just get caught in your throat. Surprisingly, you still can't find it within yourself to be angry. You're just scared.
You reach for him. He grasps your hand without hesitation, holding it tight.
"I love you." He says firmly, looking into your eyes. "Everything is going to be okay."
You give a swift nod, bottom lip trembling.
"You should eat something." Giving your hand a squeeze, he lets go, hooking one arm behind your back and the other under your one knee to lift you up. Your arms scramble to wrap around his neck.
He carries you out into the kitchen, gently setting you down in a chair. He hurries back to the bedroom, coming back with a blanket that he drapes around your shoulders.
"Does soup sound good?" He grabs a can from the cabinet. "It'll be nice and warm."
He manages to heat up the soup without any disasters and serves the bowl in front of you. You stare down at it.
"Oh, right, a spoon." He hurries to the drawer, coming back to hand you a spoon.
It's only then that it hits you. You're entirely dependent on him now. You certainly can't walk, especially if he decides not to give you a prosthetic or a wheelchair. There's no way you could ever outrun him now.
Still, you dip your spoon into the soup, bringing it to your mouth. It's salty and delicious, you eat the whole bowl.
When you're done, he takes away the bowl. You watch as he cleans it.
"What am I supposed to do now?" You speak up hoarsely.
He looks over at you as he turns off the faucet, brows scrunched in worry. "What do you mean, darling?"
"What am I supposed to do with my life?" You stare down at the table. "I can't go anywhere. I can't do anything here."
"You can do whatever you want." He says. "I'll just be here to help you."
In the following weeks, your leg heals nicely. You're haunted by nightmares and phantom pains, but physically, you're fine. You and Peter fall into a routine. For meals, he carries you to the kitchen for breakfast and sets you on the counter so that you can help. While he works, you read or knit or paint or any other of the countless activities he put together for you. He bought you everything you ever could've asked for. Then, in the evenings, you curl up on the couch and watch tv. It's simple... and you almost like it.
On one evening, he left to pick up groceries. You were left on the couch to read, thumbing through the book when you hear him come back. He bursts through the front door, smiling.
"I have a gift for you, darling." He grins, setting the groceries on the table. "I'll be right back."
You perk up, setting down your book. He returns from his van holding a pair of crutches. Hurrying over, he sets them near the couch. "I figured it's best if you could get around the house on your own." He smiles, watching you grab them. You heave yourself up, wobbling. Your muscles definitely aren’t what they used to be. Peter’s hands ghost your waist, ready to catch you if you fall.
You grip the handholds of the crutches, swinging yourself forward. You manage to wobble around the living room.
“See? Look at you go.” He says proudly. You smile at him.
“You know, I was thinking.” He moves closer to you. “Maybe we could go for a walk? Outside, of course.”
You glance over at the door nervously. Why did the idea make your stomach twist?
“We don’t have to today.” He says quickly. “After all, you’re still getting used to the crutches.”
“Yeah.” You echo quietly. “After I get used to the crutches.”
That night, the two of crawl into bed. You’ve been sleeping together for a while now, ever since your leg healed enough to not hurt when bumped. Peter lays on his back, your head on his chest as you clutch onto him.
“Goodnight.” He says gently, rubbing his fingertips up and down your spine.
“Goodnight.” You say, hugging him tighter.
You’re at the diner, sitting in one of the booths. It’s loud, like it always is. Servers are bustling in and out, people are chatting loudly. TK sits across from you. The only thing that’s in front of them is a glass of apple juice.
“Has the diner been busy?” You ask.
They simply stare at you, smiling.
“… Are you still looking for a new apartment?”
Silence.
“TK, are you alright?”
As you speak, the diner goes silent. You turn your head, everyone is looking at you. Nervous, you look back at TK, who is slowly opening their mouth.
“TK?”
Blood gushes from their lips, an impossible amount, dripping down their face and onto the diner table. You try to scramble away, but as you lift yourself away from the table, you fall to the floor.
Your leg. You only have one leg.
Everyone has begun to laugh. You look around in panic. They all stare at you, smiling with their pointed metal teeth.
You bolt upright in bed, gasping for air. Peter is grasping you in an instant, tugging you close.
“It’s okay now, I’m here, I’m here.” He grabs your face, pulling you so that your forehead’s touch. “You’re safe.”
“I was at the diner, and everyone had these teeth-“
“Do you know where you are now?” He says, thumb brushing your cheek as he nuzzles your faces together.
“Home?”
“Home. That’s right.” He says lightly. “Nothing can hurt you here.”
You throw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as he lulls you back to sleep. Before you fall asleep, however, a single thought flickers in your head.
What are you so afraid of, if not him?
You move around the house, getting a better handle of the crutches. It’s nice to not completely rely on Peter for getting around. You’re able to get your own food and sit in the living room whenever you want.
You stand over Rat’s cage, peering in as Peter comes out of the hall, having just finished work.
“What are you doing, darling?”
You look up, “Nothing.” You tell him, hoisting yourself over to him.
“You’ve gotten a handle on those pretty well.” He observes, watching you move.
“I have.” You say proudly, moving around to show off.
“I think we should go out today then.” He says. “I think a walk would be romantic.”
A pit settles in your stomach. You have been doing well with the crutches. Honestly, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t want to go outside.
“Okay.”
Peter gives you one of his jackets. It’s big on you, but warm. He ties your shoe for you.
Unlocking the door, he pushes it open, heading out in front of you and holding the door open. You crutch forward, lingering in the doorway, looking out.
A cold breeze hits your face. Slowly, you begin to crumble in on yourself, shaking your head slowly.
“Darling?”
Your body trembles, lower lip quivering as you try to move back.
“Darling, what’s wrong?”
You quickly try to move back, but your crutch catches on the wall, sending you tumbling backwards into the house. You land hard, having the wind knocked out of you.
Peter rushes to your side, kneeling down as you shake your head, tears falling down your face.
“Don’t make me go outside, don’t make me go.” You sob quietly.
“You don’t have to go anywhere.” He quickly moves to shut the door, returning to your side after. He scoops you up, carrying your trembling form to the bedroom. You hold onto him for dear life.
Curling up on the bed, he rocks you, kissing your forehead as he whispers soft reassurances. As you calm down, he leans close, whispering in your ear.
“Don’t worry darling, you never have to leave again.”
Rory trudged through the rain in the short sprint from her car to the apartment building, hugging her bag close to her chest in a desperate attempt to keep her laptop dry. She succeeded, at the cost of being completely drenched. As she stepped into the building, she shook herself off like a dog, not that it did much to actually dry her, but it at least stopped her from dripping all over the floor. She would feel bad if Isaac had to mop because of her.
She walked down the hall to her apartment, hand rummaging through her bag for her keys. She stopped in front of her door, searching more aggressively before coming to the conclusion that she didn't have them. Rory sighed, shutting her eyes and trying to remember if she left them at her desk or if she had dropped them.
"Need a hand?"
She's startled by the voice behind her, snapping around quickly only for the momentary panic to fade. Her landlord, Isaac, lived across the hall and just so happened to step out.
"Oh, I just locked myself out."
"Here, let me help." Isaac dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a ring of keys. He smiled at her, messy dark hair falling over his face as he stepped towards the door. He got the correct key on the ring on the first try, which Rory thought was impressive considering all the keys on the ring looked identical.
"Thank you, Isaac." Rory beamed at him. He seemed pleased with himself.
"Of course, anytime." He turned to go back to his apartment, which made Rory pause.
"Didn't you come out here for something?" She asked, standing in her doorway.
"Ah," Isaac tilted his head. "I was going to go for a walk but, alas, it's raining."
"Oh, alright." Rory waved goodbye, shutting her door. She turned to see her keys sitting neatly on the table where she had forgotten them this morning. It was a good thing Isaac had been there to let her in. She ran a hand through her wet hair, setting her bag on her couch as she went to change into some dry clothes.
Rory had lived in this apartment building for two years now. Originally, she had been on the third floor, but a pipe had burst, causing her to have to move to the first floor and thus, across from Isaac.
He was a polite neighbor and a damn good landlord, in all the time she's lived there nothing stayed broken for long. He even gave her a discount on rent when her mother had a medical emergency and she had to pay out of pocket for it.
As for Isaac as a person... he was unusual. Most of his time was spent in his apartment, she hardly ever saw him go out. Between his messy hair and dark bags under his eyes, Rory also got the impression that he didn't take very good care of himself. So, when she cooked food for herself, she usually tried to make extra for him. He always seemed to appreciate it and it was least she could do after everything he's done for her.
Rory opted to throw on pajamas, her comfy kind with fuzzy ice cream themed pants and a light tank top, and flopped herself down on her couch to relax after work.
Her relaxation was cut short. The upstairs neighbor stomped around like he usually did, blasting music suddenly. She sighed. If she couldn't relax, she could get to work.
Pulling her laptop from her bag, she booted it up. Opening the document, she stared at it for a moment.
She was so close. While working her dead-end job, Rory had been writing a romance novel for the past two years. Finally, all she had to do was finish was the last chapter, but for some reason she kept stalling. Maybe it was because there was so much riding on this, if it wasn't good, she would have to continue working a job she despises. However, if it took off...
Rory melted onto the couch, throwing her head back.
If it took off, Rory might actually be able to afford a house someday. Not that she didn't love her cozy little apartment, but ultimately, she wanted to be able to live comfortably. Paying rent month to month was unreliable. Even if Isaac was kind enough to make exceptions, she couldn't rely on that forever.
But here she was, on the final scene. The main character, Delilah, is being banished to her uncle's estate and the romantic interest, Arthur, has come to express his feelings. Rory felt inspired by the rainfall outside. Arthur meets Delilah in the pouring rain, both of them getting soaked, but their care.
Rory mouthed out Arthur's confession as she typed it, "Every moment I spend without you is torment. My heart, my mind, every piece of my soul longs for you. I love you in ways I didn't know existed. Please, say you'll be mine, that you'll stay by my side, now and forever."
When Rory finally finishes the chapter, she stares at for a moment, then bursts into a small celebration, kicking her feet and doing a small happy dance in place. Two years of work have been worth it, she was done with her first draft. She made sure to save.
Glancing at the time, though, her celebration instantly ended. Somehow, she had worked through the night. It was nearly 7 am, she had to get to work soon.
Rory panicked, getting up and rushing to the shower. The rain must have thrown off her perception of time, because it was still pouring away outside. When she was finally dressed for work, she made sure to grab her keys, leaving her laptop open on the living room coffee table.
Somehow, when she returned back home that evening, it was still raining. The ground had long soaked up everything it was able to, so large pools of water had begun to form on the grass, creating small ponds.
Isaac was dusting off his welcome mat as she came home. When his eyes met her gaze, he grinned. Isaac's were genuine, but always seemed just a bit too wide.
"Welcome back."
Rory waved with a smile, pulling out her keys, "I remembered them this time." She jingled them.
Isaac laughed, "I'm glad to hear."
As she unlocked her apartment, she remembered something, "Oh, by the way, could you tell the upstairs neighbor to quiet down? He was blasting music again last night."
Isaac's half lidded eyes turned towards the ceiling, contemplating this, "Of course."
"Thanks."
Rory stepped into her apartment, exhausted from work and lack of sleep. She threw her keys onto her kitchen table, next to where her laptop sat. For a moment, her exhaustion was forgotten as she remembered she was finally finished with her story.
Sitting down at the kitchen table, she tugged her laptop over, opening up the word document.
It was empty.
Rory took a moment to process this, then proceeded to panic. Where was her story?
Searching through all her files brought up nothing, even her backup copy seemed to cease to exist. Even if she had forgotten to save, that shouldn't have deleted her whole story.
As the realization that her story was gone began to dawn on her, tears started to drip down her face. All that hard work, gone as if it had never existed.
Rory slumped down, putting her head in her arms on the table. She didn't know how she would ever recover from this. Would she even have the motivation to write another book?
There's a knock at the door. At first, she didn't want to answer it, but it was persistent. She stood, cracking the door open.
It's Isaac, "I talked to the upstairs neighbor and-"
He paused when he actually takes a look at Rory, "What's wrong?"
Rory burst into tears, trying to explain but it just came out as gibberish.
Isaac tugged her into a hug. It was odd, and it certainly wasn't something they would normally do, but it was comforting in this moment. She cried into his chest, letting his firm embrace calm her down.
Even when she was done crying, Isaac held on. Eventually, she pulled herself away, wiping her face. Isaac's eyes seemed to watch her intensely, as if examining her.
"Thank you." Rory sniffed. "I just... a big project I had been working on was destroyed."
"Big project?" Isaac questioned, expression blank.
"Yeah, I had been writing a novel."
Isaac was quiet, waiting for her to speak more, but she didn't. "What kind of novel was it?"
She laughed, "It's stupid." She shook her head. "It was a romance novel."
"Romance." Isaac echoed, tone monotone. "Never cared much for it. Would feel like cheating, if I was in a relationship, that is."
"Cheating?" Rory looked at him quizzically.
Isaac shook his head, "Never mind." He turned away, then stopped and turned back. "Oh, the upstairs neighbor won't be bothering you anymore." He retreated back to his apartment.
Sure enough, that night the upstairs neighbor didn't make a peep. If it had been any other night, it would've been nice. Rory was exhausted from not sleeping the previous night, but as she lay in bed that night, she couldn't sleep. Her mind just kept racing. How could her story been deleted? How could her backup have been deleted?
In the morning, it was still raining. Rory was beginning to be exhausted of rain. The news warned of flooding in the streets, but luckily Rory didn't have to go to work that day.
She slumped around her apartment, lazily taking up space on her couch. Eventually, there was another knock at her door.
It was Isaac again.
"You looked sad last night, so I brought you some cookies I made." Isaac held out a plate. Rory took it, thanking him and setting it down on the table.
Still, Isaac lingered.
"Would you like to come in?" Rory finally offered.
Isaac's eyes lit up, "Of course!" He stepped inside, kicking his shoes off. They sat across from each other at the kitchen table and Rory tried one of the cookies.
"Oh, they're oatmeal cookies, my favorite."
Isaac merely smiled, watching her eat it.
"Crazy about this rain." Rory glanced over at her window.
Isaac nodded, "Yes, it's been raining like crazy ever since you finished your novel.”
Rory paused, a bite of cookie still in her mouth. "Ever since I what?"
Isaac looked at her. "Ever since you finished-"
"My novel, yeah." Rory stared at him. "I never told you I finished it."
Isaac froze, an icy glaze fogging over his eyes.
Rory face began to contort, "You... did you..."
"Don't be ridiculous." Isaac leaned back in his chair. "I just assumed that it was done."
"Why are you always outside when I arrive home?" Rory stood. "Grabbing the mail, going for a walk, cleaning the welcome mat, who spends that much time in the hall?"
"Rory." Isaac's voice was low. It was almost a warning.
"The keys to my apartment. How many times have you been in here?" Rory was beginning to shout and she could tell the panicked him. His eyes darted up. He was fearful someone might hear. "I'm going to-"
Isaac lunged at her, grappling her down to the ground. It wasn't hard, he was much bigger than her. As she began to scream, he clamped his hand over her mouth, bringing his lips so close to her ear that they brush against each other.
"Relax, just relax." He soothed in an awkward attempt to comfort her. "If you just relax, I won't hurt you."
Rory hyperventilated against his palm, kicking and struggling as she's pinned under his weight.
"It's just a stupid book." Isaac let out a strained laugh. "That Arthur... is he based off someone you know in real life? Blond, handsome, charming, is that your type?" He nuzzled against her cheek. "You don't like brunettes? I can go blond, if you really wanted."
Rory wrenched her face away from his hand, "My type is non-psychos!"
Isaac's hand pinned her head down to the ground. She winced, the awkward angle causing slight pain as he began to lick up the length of her neck.
"This isn't how I wanted things to go, you know." He said, biting gently on her skin. "You were supposed to give up and let me take care of you."
Rory felt disgusted in ways she didn't know were possible. She struggled, twisting herself. He caught her so that she couldn't slip out, but didn't catch that her leg had been freed, and subsequently, had given her the opportunity to kick him straight between the legs.
Isaac groaned, falling back for a moment and giving her enough time to slip out, making a mad dash for the sliding glass door of her patio. The rain was deafening outside, muting her calls for help as she dashed through the wet grass barefoot.
Isaac was on her tail. He had recovered quickly. Rory didn't know where she was running, but she felt as if it was for her life. Maybe it was.
He was too fast. He caught up, yanking her by the back of her shirt and holding her close to him as she continued to struggle.
"You know this is kind of like your book, no?" Isaac pinned Rory's arm to her back, making her yelp. "What was it that he said... Every moment I spend without you is torment. My heart, my mind, every piece of my soul longs for you. I love you in ways I didn't know existed. You'll be mine, you'll stay by my side, now and forever."
He dragged her back, kicking and screaming.
Good thing he didn't have to worry about the upstairs neighbor anymore.
The first thing you feel is the cold metal tip of the gun against your temple, pressing not hard or threatening, but rather playful.
"Care to play, princess?"
The cigarette in your mouth barely dips, let alone falls. Your sharp eyes turn to the man next to you.
"Get that damn thing away from me."
Mello smiles, lifting the gun away. You can still hear the blaring of music and smell the stench of weed and sweaty bodies from inside.
"I didn't think prostitutes took breaks." Mello jokes, tucking his gun into his waistband.
It's chilly out. As you breathe, you watch your breath and the cigarette smoke mix in the air. "And I wish smartass kids wouldn't take breaks."
"Kid?" Mello laughs, head tilting and hair falling to the side.
"How old are you, sweetheart?" You flick your cigarette at the ground, crushing it with your heel.
"Nineteen."
You turn towards him, pressing your palm to his cheek and running your thumb over it. His skin is smooth, he hasn't even lost all the baby fat in his cheeks. You feel an odd sort of tender softness for him. He hasn't snorted cocaine off a girl's body or beat a girl senseless just to get his rocks off.
But it is only a matter of time. That's always what happens when kids get mixed up in the mafia.
"See?" You give him a sad smile. "You're just a baby."
As you pull your hand away, he grabs your wrist, leaning forward.
"Is that why you won't sleep with me?" He looks at you with big eyes, eyebrows scrunched up in worry. He's never looked younger and it only makes your heart ache more.
"I told you, if you're looking for pleasure, fuck the other prostitutes."
"I don't want anyone else." As you tug your wrist, his grip loosens, letting you slide away. "I told you that you could just be my girl. You wouldn't have to worry about money or those other guys."
"Mello," you say gently.
"Please." He reaches out for you again, but stops himself. "I don't understand."
"I know." You tell him. A breeze sweeps through and you shiver, tugging your fur-skin coat tighter.
"Then explain to me." He pleads softly.
You shake your head, turning away. The pounding of the music inside matches your heartbeat as you stare off the rooftop.
"You're a nice kid, Mello." You lean on the ledge with your elbows, watching the alleyway below. Two men had gone outside to fistfight and a small crowd has gathered to watch. Meanwhile, a prostitute and a man make love on the other end of the alley. What's the difference, really? What is love other than violence?
Mello lets silence linger between you two. One of the men below gets a shot to the head in and it's lights out, the man buckles and falls to the ground, motionless. From above it's not clear if he's dead or just passed out. You hope he's dead. You wish everyone here was dead and you were too.
"I'm going to show you." Mello whispers. You turn to look at him and your stomach turns. There it is, that look in his eyes that makes you so fearful. It's ambition. What an infectious disease that is, not to mention an all-consuming one.
Still, Mello continues, "I'm going to show you what I can do." With that statement, he turns, striding back inside and leaving out here alone.
You turn to look back down below. The crowd has disappeared and the lone man still lays eerily still in the alley. The prostitute on the other side has since switched lovers, but still carries on with him the same as she did the other man.
You can see your reflection in the floor as you stand outside the royal bedroom door, arm crossed valiantly across your chest and head dipped in respect as you wait. With the heavy pack you have on your back, it's agonizing.
In the reflection, you eye the toad guards that stand at attention, ever more patient than you, but perhaps just as dedicated.
Finally, one slams the end of his weapon on the ground, announcing, "The princess will see you now!"
You fall to your knee, genuflecting as the tall doors swing open.
Her sweet voice greets you, "You've returned."
It's only then that you look up at her. You've slain goombas, koopas, piranha plants, and more of the like, and yet your heart still races when you see her.
The way her soft golden hair bounces as she approaches, the regal way she holds herself, the gentle curves of her lips as she slowly smiles at you.
"Of course I've returned, my princess." You bow your head again.
"Stand." It's an order, but it’s a gentle one. You're happy to oblige in her wishes.
As you raise yourself from the ground, she glances you over.
"You have achieved your task?"
A smile perches upon your lips as you slide off the heavy pack, hand gripping inside and tossing its contents out onto the floor.
Ever the lady, the princess gasps in horror, gloved hand coming to her face.
Leaving a deep crimson trail as it rolls, Bowser's head comes to a stop, dull eyes staring blankly at your dear princess.
The toad guards leap forward, aiming their spears at your neck, "How dare you disrespect the princess!"
You laugh, holding your hands up.
"Please, stand back." Peach waves them off, the immediate shock wearing off. "Please, just... dispose of this."
The guards grumble, eyeing you as they scramble over to dispose of the mess.
Peach's hands hover regally at her waist, cupped over each other as she pointedly looks away from the severed head.
"Let's discuss in my room as the guards clean up."
You nod, happily trotting in as the large doors close behind you.
The princess's bedroom is just as wonderful as it always is. A large canopy bed takes up one half of the room while a small tea area takes up the other half. The princess glides over to the small wooden seats of the tea table, elegantly tucking down her dress as she sits.
You approach casually, which you can tell annoys her.
"You don't seem happy." You say. "I completed your task, my princess."
"I told you to take care of him, not to make a mess of my castle." With her delicate hands, she pours herself a cup of tea. You can't help but smile that the rudest thing the princess can muster is simply not pouring you a cup first.
As she finishes pouring, you grab the tea cup from in front of her and sip it as you still stand. Her eyes could shoot daggers at you right now.
You finish the tea, letting out a satisfied sigh and setting the tea cup back down on its tray.
"I should've let the guards handle you." She sighs, frowning down at her tea cup.
"You wouldn't do that." You move closer, leaning on the tea table and head tilting to the side. "You like me too much."
She looks up at you, large blue eyes blinking as she purses her soft lips. "You seem to forget you're in the presence of a princess."
"You're right." You fall to your knees again, just inches away from her. "Sometimes it feels more like I'm in the presence of a deity." Reaching your hand, you brush against the skin near her ankle. She quickly jerks her leg away, turning her cheek.
Still, you can tell her anger at you is fading. Even as she crosses her arms, her eyes soften as she looks at you.
"My dear, I worship you." You extend your arm again, and this time she allows you to touch her, the hem of her dress brushing your wrist as your hand glides across her calf.
You pull her leg towards you and press delicate kisses up her soft skin, tilting your head and looking up at her as you reach her knee.
She softens, giving an exasperated sigh, "You're too cocky for your own good."
It's permission. You move quickly, scooping one hand under her legs and the other around her back, lifting her into the air. She lets out another sweet gasp, crown tumbling to the floor and arms quickly finding their way around you in an attempt to not fall.
"You are horrendous!" She scolds, not really meaning it. You press kisses to her neck, carrying her over to the bed. Like the princess she is, you gently lay her down, climbing on top of her.
"Did you miss me, princess?" You breathe, pressing heavier kisses to her neck and hand continuing where it left off, sliding up under her dress, caressing her thigh and reaching her panties.
She doesn't answer, her beautiful eyes fluttering shut as a pale pink blush spreads across her face.
You ghost over her pussy with your fingertips, circling her lips and putting pressure on her clit. You love to watch the proper princess squirm.
As you roll your fingers up and down her panties, you feel them get slicker and slicker. You smile against her neck, "My, my, princess." You tut.
With both hands, you slide her panties down her smooth legs, tossing them to the side. You grab her thighs much too roughly for a princess and spread them apart, diving under her dress.
Her soft pink pussy drips wetness onto her thighs, making a pretty mess. You clean it up with your tongue, everything about her tastes sweet.
Pressing a kiss to her clit, you dip down to make out with her hole. You feel her thighs clamp around your ears, twitching as your tongue slides around her folds.
You swirl your tongue over her clit one or twice before sucking ruthlessly. Her hand finds your hair, gripping tight as you send jolts of pleasure up her body.
You hear her dainty gasp and suddenly her pussy convulses, pulsing quickly as more sweet wetness drips down. You give a satisfied lick before sitting up.
The pretty princess slumps back, half lidded eyes gazing up at you as you pull your cock from your pants, already hard.
“I hope you don’t think I’m already done with you, princess.” You say in a low voice, pressing her legs up.
You slide your cock over her pussy, mentally comparing how far you’d reach before dipping down and pressing your tip against her hole.
Her slickness glides you in. It’s a perfect fit. You push until your tip bumps her cervix, making her jolt.
She looks up at you, still tired from her first orgasm. You’ll take it slow for your dear princess.
You lean forward, pressing a kiss to her delicate lips as you slowly grind into her. You wonder if she can taste herself on your tongue and you press it past her lips, devouring even more of her.
You can’t help but pick up the pace, drawing your hips back and quickly ramming back into her. She gives a soft noise every time you slam in, sliding further and further up the bed until you grab her by the thighs and drag her back.
You look down, watching as your cock slides in and out of her, her pussy gripping the sides of your cock as if it didn’t want to let go. You thumb over her sensitive clit, feeling her pussy tighten as you pleasure her more.
You buck your hips in hard, unable to help yourself as she moans for you, the prim princess demeanor completely gone.
“Please-“ She gasps, hands around your neck as you feel her freeze, creaming your cock as she heaves a loud moan.
You thrust in deep, holding still as her pulsing pussy milks the cum from your dick. You bury your face in her neck as you grind deep inside her, slowly going soft.
When you pull out, your cum drips from her hole and onto the bedsheets. She looks lazily up at you, eyes blinking slowly.
You tuck a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
CW: ABUSE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, YANDERE, RELIGIOUS GUILT, NON CONSENSUAL TOUCHING
AO3 Link
Here’s the story:
Your hands clasp in prayer as the congregation around you mutters a collective "amen" and starts to shuffle out. Despite the service ending, you don't budge from your pew, continuing to kneel as people pass by until the church is empty.
Well, almost empty.
Still dressed in his priest attire, Wally watches you silently for a moment, wondering what on earth you would want to pray for when you’re already perfect.
He approaches and you’re startled by his voice as he speaks, “Why are you kneeling, child?”
You turn your head, looking up at him. Your sweet, innocent eyes look up at him.
You blink at him, “I-I was just praying, Father.”
He smiles, “You’re the picture of godliness, my child.” He reaches down, index finger hooking under your chin and tugging it up higher as his thumb ghosts over your soft cheek, gently petting you. “I can tell your heart is pure.”
“How can you tell?” You almost demand, voice desperate for his praise. He nearly trembles from the tone. There’s nothing he loves more than the world breaking you down and him picking up all the pieces.
Wally kneels down next to you, clasping your hands in his own. “I can feel you.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. The two of you are so close now that he can feel your hot breath on his neck and hear your heart beat in your chest.
He leans even closer, lips close to brushing your ear, and you flinch away. Wally smiles.
That. That is what made you pure. The way you’re so desperately wanting his affection yet also so afraid of it.
Wally pulls back, keeping his cool. “What did you come to pray for today, my child?”
Your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red as you look away. “It’s nothing.
“My dear, don’t go lying to a priest.” Wally pushes.
Your cheeks turn even redder as you shrink into yourself. You very clearly don’t want to tell him, which makes him want to know even more.
“Father, it’s just stupid troubles-“
“I want to know.” He puts the pressure on you by waiting in silence.
“It’s just…”
Wally watches you intensely, head tilted to the side as he waits for you to explain.
“I just…” You fidget nervously. “I don’t fit in anywhere.”
Wally can’t help but grin. “Of course you don’t fit in anywhere.” His tone is sweet but his words are cruel. “You’re too pure. The world outside will never accept you.”
Your lower lip begins to tremble and the sweet, guiltless eyes he loves begin to tear up.
“But that’s okay.” Just as he’s cruel, he’s sweet. “You belong with the church. You belong with me.”
Wally runs his hand over your cheek. As tears fall, he doesn’t wipe them away. Instead, he presses his thumb against them, dragging the wetness down your cheek.
“You don’t have to cry.” Wally whispers. “I know you need me. I know you want me. This is all god’s plan.”
This doesn’t stop the gentle flow of tears down your cheeks. That’s okay though. He’ll take you broken.
As he comforts you, Wally slowly gets closer and closer, hand sliding up your thigh to massage circles into the muscle and hot breath trickling over your neck.
You freeze, slowly beginning to realize what’s happening. Took you long enough.
His mouth attaches to your neck, at first sucking and then biting. He can feel you start to tremble beneath him and he pulls away, pressing gentle kisses to where he drew blood and touching you with soft hands.
“Do not be afraid.” He presses another kiss to your wound. “This is what faith is, loving other people. God blessed us with the ability to give and receive love.”
Wally brings his lips up to your ear, wiping blood on it as he kisses it. “I love you, my child.”
“I-I-“ Your terrified voice speaks up, a surprise to him. Your timidness had always been to his advantage.
“I don’t want this!” You shove Wally off of you, scrambling back.
Wally lands back on the pew, nearly hitting his head in your sudden struggle. He blinks at you.
“By rejecting my love you’re rejecting the lord.” Wally spits. “Nobody loves you except me. Nobody could ever love you except me. You’ll go right back to not belonging.” Wally’s breathing is heavy as he finishes.
You start to cry again, “No, I don’t reject the lord.” The years of religious guilt he’s built up in you is paying off.
Wally sighs, “Then let me love you. Stop this nonsense and come here.” He points in front of him.
Slowly, you crawl over to him and he heaves you into his lap. You bury your face in his neck, still sobbing as he rubs your back.
“You belong to god and so you belong to me.” Wally says sternly. “Listen to the lord and you will set yourself free, my dear.”
You stand with hands on your hips, the sleeves of your baggy old college sweatshirt rolled up as you admire your new house. This is it... a new start.
Tying your hair back into a ponytail, you get to work. This might be your dream, but it doesn't come easy. The house you've chosen was cheap and definitely a fixer-upper. You leave the U-Haul with all your boxes parked in the driveway while you head up to the door.
You step inside, which immediately brings you to a dimly lit mudroom. The wood paneling is rotting. It's going to have to be replaced. You kick off your shoes onto the dirt-encrusted floor, leaning your hand on the doorframe. When you peel it away, it comes back filthy.
Ugh. You need a sink.
Going further into the house, you head into the kitchen. The outdated orange shag carpet alone makes you groan. Plus, who puts carpet in the kitchen?
You head over to the large metal sink set up on the bright yellow countertops to wash your hand of the dirt. You turn the handle of the faucet.
Nothing.
You turn it more. Then off again and then on again. Still, no water comes out. You sigh, wondering if the water was shut off or if the sink is just another of the busted household items this house will provide.
The living room offshoots the kitchen. What was once probably beautiful white and flowered wallpaper has now yellowed and peels off the walls in large stripes. Several windows are cracked, but it doesn't look like it's from force. You guess it's probably from improper care in the cold.
There's a bathroom. As you creak open the door, you see something dash out. You shriek, scrambling back wildly as you watch the mouse slip away into a crack in the wall. You breathe heavy. You're definitely going to have to go buy some mouse traps tonight. Still, you cautiously enter the bathroom. When you turn on the sink, you're relieved to find that it runs.
You wash the dirt away, then flick your wet hands at the sink. Even if there were towels in the bathroom, you wouldn't trust them to dry your hands.
There's an upstairs, which you expect that you'll set up your bedroom up there. The stairs themselves though are awfully steep and seem to be littered with staples that stick out from the floorboards. You opt to avoid that for now and continue to explore the ground floor. There's a small closet filled with spiderwebs and a door that leads to the basement, though when you flick the lightswitch no light turns on down there.
You sigh, leaning your head against the door to the basement. Can you really do this? This is going to be so much hard work. You've scraped together all of your savings for this?
There's one more door at the end of the hall. You discover it's an office. It's still rough around the edges like the rest of the house, but it has a large window that takes up almost the whole wall. It looks out into the neighborhood.
You stand in front of it, admiring the view. You can see many houses, each one brightly painted with jolly colors, their lawns perfect. Butterflies and hummingbirds float near the bushes of flowers that are planted under the window. The sky is a brilliant blue, clearer than you've ever seen it before. This place truly is paradise.
One thing the realtor really sold you on was the neighborhood. She said that the community bands together in a way that she's never seen before. Seeing it now, you can already tell that these people are special. How can they not be when they create such a beautiful environment?
Yes, this will be your painting room. Just standing here now you feel a rush of inspiration. You want to paint this moment. You rush to the front door, eager to grab your painting supplies before the mood runs out.
As you open the door, you jolt back, you had not been expecting any visitors. You have an entire welcome crew at your front door.
"Hello neighbor!" A man with a stunning blue pompadour steps forward, extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Wally Darling."
You gingerly take his hand, face flushing. He's clearly a charmer. His grip is firm but delicate.
"It's nice to meet you too."
"These are our other neighbors here, we have Julie, Eddie, Frank, Barnaby, Poppy, Howdy, and Sally!" Each one waves as he says their name.
"We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" Poppy raises up a cake she's been holding. In fancy cursive font, it reads:
Welcome Home.
"Poppy is our resident baker." Wally grins. "She's who you want to cater all your events!"
"Oh, Poppy, will you do my birthday!" Julie chimes in.
"Of course." Poppy laughs at Julie, then turns back to you. "Here you are, dear." She hands you the cake.
You smile, this is so sweet of them! It truly makes this miserable house better. "Thank you! Um, my place is a wreck right now, but please, come in."
They all shuffle into your kitchen. Luckily the previous owners left you a kitchen table and some chairs so that your guests can sit. You set the cake on the table.
"So where are you from?" Frank asks, taking a seat.
"I actually came a long way." You give a nervous chuckle. "Wanted to start fresh... I'm from a little town in the middle of nowhere."
"Oh that's where I'm from too!" Eddie bursts out excitedly, then hesitates. "Wait, no." Frank pats Eddie on the back.
"This place seems like it needs a bit of work." Wally notices, hands in pockets as he leans on the counter.
Howdy nods along with him. "I have a bunch of supplies in my shop if you ever need anything." He says. "On the house for a new neighbor."
"Oh, I can help too!" Sally says. "I work on my sets all the time!"
"That would be awesome!" You suddenly have a bit more hope for this place. "Only if it's not an inconvenience for you guys of course."
"It's no issue." Wally promises, looking down at you with his half lidded eyes. "It's all a part of being in the neighborhood."
"When are we having cake?" Barnaby suddenly asks, eyeing it.
"Oh, um-" You glance around the kitchen. "All my kitchen utensils are still packed in the car..."
Everyone puzzles over this for a minute. Then, Barnaby reaches out and takes a handful of cake. His paws smear with frosting and he brings it up to his mouth to take a bite.
"What are you doing!" Frank demands.
"No plates and no utensils." Barnaby shrugs.
There's another pause. Then, you reach out and grab a handful too. The cake is squishy and messy between your fingers, but when you bring it to your mouth, it's delicious. Slowly, everyone is scooping up the cake, laughing as they play with it in their palms.
"This is ridiculous." Frank says, crossing his arms. "I refuse to act so childish!"
"Aw, come on, Frank." Barnaby says, leaning over. "Oh, you got something on your face."
"What? Where-"
"Right... there." Barnaby smushes some cake onto Franks face, smearing it down. Frank sits in shock for a second, then reaches a finger up to wipe the frosting at his cheek. He sticks the finger in his mouth, sucking at the frosting.
"Well... at least the cake is delicious." He admits. Everyone laughs, but soon it devolves into everyone tossing the cake. Julie and Frank team up to get Barnaby, Sally tosses the cake in the air while Eddie tries to catch it in his mouth, and Howdy and Poppy try to down as much cake as they can. Wally still leans on the counter, watching the chaos with a small smirk.
You slide next to him, cake still in hand.
"Sure you don't want a bite?" You grin, intending to smash it on his face. Before you can though, he takes his index finger and swipes it through the frosting, bringing it to your face and gently smearing the frosting onto the tip of your nose. He brings his finger back to suck on the small bit of leftovers.
"You can have it all, my dear." He says, returning to his casual, laidback position.
Eventually, all the cake the gone. Whether more is in your bellies or streaked along your floor, table, and walls, you're unsure. It's a mess, but somehow it makes the old house feel less dreary than before. Your guests head home, promising to come help with the house.
"Oh!" Julie turns back as she leaves, grasping at your hands. "We're having a barbeque tomorrow. You simply have to come!"
"I don't know." You chuckle. "I still have to unpack."
"Well, please keep us in mind." She lets go, giving a warm smile. "I had a lot of fun today." With that, she turns and scurries down the steps.
It's Wally's turn next. He gives you another one of his signature warm smiles. It makes your stomach flutter.
"I'm just in the Home over there." He says, pointing towards a peppy little red house down the street. "Come down whenever you need me."
"Thank you again." You say. He gives a polite nod before stepping away.
When everyone is out of sight, you sigh. It's already sunset and you haven't done any unpacking. One by one you bring the boxes in. Then, you puzzle over how you're going to get your larger furniture inside. In the end, you decide you don't need to bring in the couch, the desk, or the TV in tonight and that you can ask for help tomorrow, but you have to bring the mattress in now. It's a struggle, but eventually you manage.
That's it. That's all the work you're doing today. You can take all your stuff out of the boxes tomorrow.
However, there is one box that you unpack, labeled painting supplies. You set up in your new office, putting the easel in front of the window. It's pitch black out now, so you decide to paint the quiet calmness of the neighborhood at night. It seems as if everyone is already asleep, there's not a single window light on down the street. You throw a canvas on the easel, digging through your oil paints to find the right ones.
You notice Wally's house is right near your window, you have a perfect view of it. It only adds to your inspiration, using the darkness as a metaphor in your painting. It's the mystery... the curiosity... the intimacy. Despite being in two separate homes, you can't help but feel like you're glimpsing into his soul by painting his house.
It's nearly three in the morning when you finally finish your painting. It's crude and hastily done, but you enjoy it's charm. As you lay it on the floor to dry, you notice an odd detail that you don't remember adding.
There's a single light on in Wally's attic.
_____
Despite promising yourself that you'll get completely unpacked today, by midmorning you're already exhausted. You take a break, steaming yourself a cup of tea. So far in your packing, you've only uncovered one of your coffee mugs, so you're left sipping out of a chipped mug that reads: I DESTROYED THE UNIVERSE AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS STUPID MUG.
In the very least, a couple of things are coming along nicely. You hesitate to unpack everything right away, since you'll surely soon be tearing up carpet and painting over walls, but the essentials are out. Still, there is work to do.
Although...
You glance at the time. The barbeque is going to be soon... should you go? While they were all very king to you yesterday, you really don't know any of them.
Maybe this is your chance though. You'd particularly like to know that Wally fellow a little more.
You've decided it. You're going.
You glance down at your work clothes, a ragged old sweatshirt and worn out jeans with paint splattered all over. You're going to need to dress better than this.
Which box are your clothes in?
You spend another while digging through boxes. While you don't find dress clothes, you do find your stash of mugs. You set them in the kitchen. Eventually, you opt to just wear your paint splattered jeans but with a hole-free tee shirt.
You make your way outside. As you exit the house, the warm summer air hits you and you take a deep breath in, enjoying the season. It's absolutely beautiful in this town. You're surprised no one outbid on the house in a place like this.
Walking along the street, you spot a picnic spot set up in Wally's backyard. It seems you're the last one to arrive. The delectable smell of fresh meat cooking on the grill catches your nose.
"Yay, you came!" Julie practically jumps into your arms.
You laugh, "I figured I could take a lunch break."
Two picnic tables are set up next to the large grill where Poppy and Barnaby flip meat patties and turn hot dogs. At one table is Sally, Howdy, and Wally while the other is Frank and Eddie. Julie leads you over, taking a seat next to Frank.
"Hello neighbor!" Wally pats the seat next to him. "Come sit with us."
You take your seat, giving a polite smile.
"How was your first night at your new home?" Sally squeals excitedly, leaning over the table.
"It was fine." You shrug. "A little uncomfortable since my mattress was on the floor because I haven't set up my bedframe yet."
"Oh dear!" Howdy exclaims.
"What?" Eddie asks from the other table.
"It's nothing, Eddie." Sally rolls her eyes at him. "So when do we get to come help! Oh! What colors do you want to paint your walls? I was thinking bright! We can magenta or chartreuse or turquoise or-"
"Easy there." Howdy laughs, patting Sally on the shoulder. "I think we'll need to do some repairs before we can get into the decor aspect."
"What needs to be fixed?" Wally asks you in his usual chill manner. "So that we can help."
You raise your eyebrows, mind scanning through the plethora of problems in that house. "The sink doesn't run, there are staples in the stairs, the basement light doesn't work, there are mice and god knows what else, and some of my windows are broken."
Those are just the ones you've discovered so far.
Howdy runs his hand along his chin, "Some of those don't sound too bad. We can take some pliers to the stairs, then hopefully the light just needs replacing and isn't an electrical issue..." He trails off in thought.
"Food is ready!" Barnaby announces. Poppy sets down plates while Barnaby hands out the food.
"Hotdog or hamburger?" Barnaby asks when he gets to you.
"Hotdog please."
Barnaby loads up your plate, "Say, how does the enthusiastic man eat his hotdog?"
"Huh?" You ask, staring up at him.
With a large grin, Barnaby leans in and whispers, "With relish."
You blink, taking a minute to process the joke. Then, you laugh.
"Thank you, I'll be here all week." Barnaby prides himself while sliding Wally a burger.
"When can I get you on stage with me, Barnaby?" Sally bites into her hotdog.
Barnaby shrugs, "Alas, my stardom is meant for small crowds."
Sally shakes her head, "One day I'll convince you."
"I'd love to see it."
You bite down on your hotdog. It's probably the most delicious you've ever had. Does everything in this town taste amazing or are it's residents just master chefs?
"We have to go play lawn games!" Sally yells as she finishes her food. "Wally, you're on my team!"
"What are we playing-"
Sally grabs Wally by the arm, dragging him out to the field before he can protest.
"Want to team up?" Howdy wipes his mouth with a napkin.
"I think I need to digest my food first." You tell him, patting your belly. "Sorry."
"All good." Howdy leans over to the other table. "Hey Edds, you and me?"
"You know it!" Eddie says through a mouthful of burger. He shoves the rest in his mouth, hurrying to stand up. Barnaby and Poppy team up as well, heading over to the group.
That leaves Julie and Frank. Neither seem interested in joining the games. You move over to their table.
"Why don't you just ask him, Frank!" Julie whispers as you sit down.
Frank looks at you nervously, "Julie! There's someone else here!"
Julie sighs, looking over at you. "You can keep a secret, right?"
You nod.
Julie looks at Frank expectedly. He sighs, hands fiddling with a book he keeps in his lap. "Fine."
"Frank likes Eddie!" Julie giggles excitedly. "And Eddie SO likes him back!"
"You can't say that for sure." Frank fidgets. "I was reading a study where they found that people are very unreliable in determining if they are being flirted with or not!"
"But it's so obvious!" Julie groans.
You glance over at the game being played. It seems to be some weird hybrid of croquet and tennis. Your eyes can't help but wander over to Wally, who is holding his mallet like he's never played a sport before. His hooded eyes meet yours, giving you a dazed smile. You quickly look away.
"I just want to wait." Frank shifts uncomfortably. "Just to make sure that he likes me."
"How many signs do you need?" Julie shakes her head.
Frank doesn't answer, he's too busy staring. You look over at where his gaze lands. It seems as if Howdy and Eddie won, as Eddie is jumping up and down in excitement and Howdy is doing an awkward victory dance. They lock arms, swinging around happily.
Eddie trots over to the picnic table, breath heavy from all the jumping. "Did you see that winning shot?" He taps his foot happily, eyes glancing around the table.
"Oh, I missed it!" Julie complains.
"It was a good shot." Frank looks up at Eddie. "Are you good at geometry? The angle on that shot was quite amazing to see."
Eddie gives him a goofy grin. "Angels? No, I'm not really religious." He pauses. "But if you want to talk about it more I'd listen."
Frank perks up, then starts on a long winded explanation about math. You take the opportunity to slip away.
Wally waves you over, making your stomach do a somersault. It seems Frank isn't the only one with a stupid little crush. The way you're practically drooling over him has you embarrassed, it's like you're a middle schooler again. You jog over.
"Want to play?" He asks, holding up a mallet.
"I thought you were in a team with Sally?" You glance over to see Sally standing with Howdy.
"She didn't want to be on my team anymore." He says casually, looking up at the sky. "Apparently I couldn't hit a brick wall even if I ran into it."
You can't help but laugh. Upon seeing you laugh, he laughs along too.
"Well I don't know how to play either, so we'll be quite the team."
"You two ready?" Sally swings her mallet over her shoulder. Howdy has his baseball cap on backwards.
You and Wally line up. What ensues is the most pathetic beatdown you've ever seen. Not only are Sally and Howdy more acquainted with the game, they're also just quicker and more agile than you and Wally. The two of you also have absolutely no coordination skills, constantly bumping into each other and dropping the ball. Wally just plainly face plants several times. Somehow, he always manages to laugh it off though.
When Sally scores the winning point, she leaps into the air, grabbing Howdy by the arms.
"Yay!" She squeals.
"Two victories!" Howdy grins.
Wally dusts the dirt off his clothes. He had tripped again. "I'm afraid I dragged us down." He says, tilting his head as he looks down at you.
You shake your head, "Did you see me out there? I think we're a perfect match." You blush, realizing what you've said. "I mean... perfect match as a team, of course."
"Yes." He echoes. "Perfect match." There's a hidden smile in his words.
You glance over to see Howdy and Sally still celebrating.
"I want to show you something." Wally diverts your attention back to him.
"Oh, should I get the others?" You turn, but Wally grabs your wrist.
"No, I want it to be the two of us."
You and Wally slip away. You feel slightly bad that you're abandoning everyone, but Wally assures you that it won't be for long.
"Right through here." Wally ducks through a small passage in the bushes. The greenery is absolutely stunning here. Are plants usually this green?
As you step from the shrubs, you're greeted with more stunning scenery. Before you are acres and acres of beautiful apple trees. The bright red apples dangle from each tree while fallen ones scatter the ground. It feels like something out of a storybook.
"I like to come here." Wally reaches up, picking you a nice plump apple and gingerly setting it in his hands. "I thought you'd like it too."
"This is so pretty." You stroll through the trees, fingers rubbing over the apple in your palm. This is something you'd like to paint.
"So you're a painter too?"
You pause for a second, wondering if Wally can read your mind. "Huh?"
"Your pants." He points and you follow his gaze. Ah, that's right, you're wearing your shitty painting jeans.
"Yes, I paint." You tell him, turning. He follows behind you as you walk, hands tucked respectfully behind his back. You feel like a fancy Victorian woman and he your eager suitor. "You do too?"
"I do."
"What do you paint?"
He ponders on this. "Still life, mostly." He shrugs. "Apples." He picks one up from the ground, then tosses it. "They're my muse, one could say."
"Oh I see, a muse." You tease him. "Most artists' muses are pretty women or handsome men, you know."
"Does a handsome apple count?"
You laugh, "No."
"Since you clearly have a strict idea of what a muse should be," He trots to catch up so that he walks by your side. "Who is the lucky fellow that is occupying your thoughts and paintings?"
"I don't have one." You tell him very matter-of-factly.
He shakes his head, smiling. "Perhaps you just haven't met someone handsome enough to be your muse."
"Perhaps." You smile back and finally take a bite of the apple. It's ripe and juicy.
"We should paint together." Wally shoves his hands in his pockets.
"Apples?" You ask, raising a brow.
He laughs, "No, not apples... well, unless you want to."
You hold your half eaten apple in front of you, pretending to study it like it's a piece of modern art. "I don't know... maybe I'm starting to see the complexity of it."
"Look a little harder." Wally nudges you playfully. "Maybe you'll finally find your muse."
"This apple is starting to look a little handsome."
"I knew you would eventually see my side of things." He watches as you take another bite.
"Tomorrow for painting then?" You ask. "Apples as our muse?"
"Sounds like a plan."
_____
Beautiful emerald green paint rolls onto the wall as you work. Somehow, it's even more stunning than the sample paint swatch. Your living room is going to look positively royal.
Beside you, Sally leans up, jabbering away, "-And then Julie had to come rescue me from out of the dumpster! Not only that, but the lawnmower was nowhere to be found!" She finishes her story, shaking her head as she applies more paint. "I still wonder what happened to it."
Howdy is on the floor, removing staples from where the ugly shag carpet once was. When he peeled it up, you were thrilled to find out that there were beautiful hardwood floors underneath.
"Do these crazy things happen to everyone in Home, or just you?" You ask with a smile. It's still funny to you how the town is named Home, just another example of how perfect the place is.
"Oh you should see all the trouble some of them get into." Howdy rolls his eyes. "It's only if you're looking for it."
"Have a little adventure, Howdy!" Sally teases.
Howdy pulls out a particularly difficult staple with a grunt, "I've had enough adventure, particularly from that Wally fellow."
You perk up.
Sally laughs, "Do you remember that time he tried to sew his own clothes and got caught in the sewing machine?"
"How did he do that?" You laugh along with her.
"The idiot thought that he had to sew them right onto his body." The corners of Howdy's mouth twitch up.
Sally continues chatting, "There's also this weird thing about Wally, be warned he-"
Howdy cuts her off with a cough, communicating something with his eyes that you don't quite understand.
"Err, I mean, he's just so naïve sometimes." Sally says.
"That's true." Howdy adds.
A silence falls over the room, the only sound being the occasional splash as you and Sally dip your rollers into the paint. It gives you time to wonder what Sally was going to say. Wally just gets so... what?
Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud, making you jump. Then comes more thudding. You blink, processing the noise for a second before realizing that it's knocking.
"Oh!" You set down your paint roller. "I'll go get it!"
You rush over to the door, slipping through the kitchen. You fling open the door, out of breath from your jog over.
It's Wally, dressed just as dapper as usual. No, he seems more dapper today. His necktie a little straighter and his hair more precisely groomed. The minute his eyes lock on yours he smiles, glancing down at your clothes.
"Painting without me?"
"Well, only my living room." You say, slightly flustered to find yourself in indecent clothes around him once more. You wish you would've been able to change into something nicer. "I wasn't expecting you so soon-" You glance at the clock you had hastily hung in the mudroom. "Oh wait, it's already noon? I'm so sorry, I meant to be ready-"
"It's no worry." Wally assures you, as casual as ever.
"Are you coming back?" Sally yells from the other room.
Wally tilts his head, eyes casting towards the noise. "Oh? There's someone else here?"
"Yeah." You feel bad about losing track of time. You sincerely were looking forward to painting with Wally! "Sally and Howdy are just helping me paint."
"Let me just step in and say hi."
You invite Wally in, leading him to the living room. It's nearly finished.
"Oh, hi Wally." Howdy plucks out another staple.
"You should've invited me, I would've done quite a nice job with the paint." Wally says casually. "It looks nice though, you all did a good job."
"It was kind of a last minute thing." You explain.
Sally sets down her roller, "We had fun doing it! You would've been more help by assisting Howdy with the staples."
"Hey! I can do it by myself-"
You laugh, "I really appreciate the help, guys."
"That being said, I think I have her claimed for the afternoon." Wally slides in. "We're going painting."
Howdy and Sally both take the hint.
"Oh! We can come back later and help." Howdy stands, stretching out his back.
"Bye!" Sally gives a cheerful wave as they exit. "We gotta hang out again!"
You wave back eagerly and they leave through the front door. You turn back to see Wally leaning on the doorframe to the living room, watching you with his relaxed eyes.
"You really did you a nice job on this living room." His voice is ever so soft.
You sigh, placing your hands on your hips. "This place still needs a lot more work."
"I know you can breathe some life into this place." Wally's eyes seem to sparkle. "Homes are very special, you know."
You shake your head, "Are we painting at the orchard?"
"Best place to find apples."
It's not long after that you and Wally have your easels set up in the orchard, plenty of fresh apples on display for references. Wally stands across from you, paint at the ready.
"I'm still not so sure that I understand apples as a muse." You tease, reaching up to tree to grasp an apple. It's just out of your reach. "I bet you think they're complex or something." You mock like you're some kind philosopher, " Apples... the thing that made Newton discover gravity, the so called forbidden fruit."
"Or maybe they're not." Wally reaches up and grabs the apple for you, placing it in your palm. "Maybe they're just apples. Simple."
You take a bite of it.
"I guess I'm getting too deep about apples." You say in between bites, smiling.
He smiles along with you, "Perhaps we should just paint."
"Let's."
You pour over your canvas, examining the half eaten apple with rigor. They are surprisingly difficult to get right. The small spots and stripes make the work tedious.
"How are you doing the shading?" You ask, trying to peek at Wally's work. He shies away, turning his canvas so that you can't see.
"You'll see." Wally smiles. "I want to see your own interpretation, no outside influences."
"Is my work going to professionally assessed?" You tease, still struggling over the shading. "Should I be nervous?"
"Oh, very nervous." Wally replies. After a brief pause, he speaks up again. "What do you think of Home so far?"
"I really like it." You tell him enthusiastically. "I love the views, I love the weather, I love the people."
"I'm glad you like it." He says.
"It's quite lucky I got that house too." You say. "It's insane that there were no other bidders when it's such a lovely place. I'm sure that someone with more money than me could've easily fixed it up and loved it here."
Wally merely smiles and the two of you fall into concentrated silence once again.
You fall into the trance of painting. It's not a feeling you're unused to. There's something about concentrating on the details that just makes you lose track of time. Eventually, you tune back in, taking a step back as you finish your painting.
You're proud of it, you think. You've painted a small, half eaten apple resting in the grass, the field of orchards sprawled out behind it. It's a simple but elegant painting.
"I'm done." You say with a breath, looking up to see Wally watching you carefully. "How much do you have left?"
"Oh, I've been done for a while." Wally beams at you. "I'm very curious to see what you've produced."
Wally saunters over to look at your canvas. His eyes scan the painting, noticing the small efforts you put in. There is truly something amazing about another artist studying your work.
"It feels... happy." He says. "A simple kind of happy."
You pause, then slowly nod. "That's how I feel here in Home, I think." You chew at your lip. "I like it."
Wally takes your arm, leading you over to his painting.
It's... you. You're leaning over a canvas, paintbrush in one hand and apple in the other. Your hair spills in your face and paint covers your clothes. It's clear where he put the most effort in though, in your face. Your expression is one of focus and concentration as you're hunched over, eyebrows scrunched and mouth slightly agape.
It feels happy.
_____
Wally walks you home after you finish painting. He gifted you his painting and you gifted yours to him. He seems quite proud to own your artwork, even if it inferior to his. You're in awe at his skill honestly.
"I had fun today, Wally." You tell him as you reach your house.
Wally lights up, "I had fun too." He lingers at the door for a second, hands shoved into his pockets and painting tucked neatly under his arm. "I'll see you again tomorrow?" He asks. "I'll even help with house, if you want."
You laugh, "That sounds great."
He flashes you a charming smile, "Goodnight, then." He does a half bow, turning and trotting away. You watch him go, heart pumping in your chest.
As you close the door behind you, you can't help but jump and squeal excitedly. This neighborhood is truly everything you dreamed it would be. Your house is coming together nicely, you've got wonderful new friends, and now you've got the attention of a handsome guy!
Nothing could ruin this.
You walk further into your house, stepping into the living room. It's a perfect start, you feel a sense of pride.
Picking up a hammer, you head to a free space on the wall, pounding in a nail. You hang your new painting up, stepping back to admire it.
You turn around, patting the doorframe of the living room before heading upstairs to bed. You've had a long day today and you're sure that tomorrow is going to be just as busy. Your bedroom is less put together than the living room, but the fact that you've made progress prevents you from feeling bad.
As you slip into bed, you hear an odd noise.
You perk up, pausing and listening for the noise again.
It almost sounds like footsteps.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you peek out from your room. The sound echoes up the stairs. It sounds like it's coming from either the kitchen or the living room. You grab the nearest heavy object, which just so happens to be a leg of an easel that you had taken apart for the move. It's a strong wooden beam. You hold it up high on your shoulder.
"Hello?" You call.
The only answer you get is more footsteps.
Your hands tremble as you make your way down, placing your steps carefully. Your mind races through a million scenarios of robbery, kidnapping, and murder.
When you reach the bottom of the steps, you decide to make sure you surprise this intruder. You come into the living room swinging.
There's nothing.
You stop and listen for a minute.
The noises are gone. No more footsteps.
You breathe a sigh of relief, running your hand through your hair. It wasn't even footsteps at all, must just be the old house settling. You laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you prepare yourself to go back to bed. Before you do though, you notice something amiss.
Wally's painting had fallen off the wall.
The next morning you're awoken by the sound of loud, unrelenting knocking. You groan, startled and tired. After the incident last night you hadn't gotten much quality of sleep. You know you're just being paranoid, but for some reason it really stuck with you.
You roll out of bed, quickly throwing on clothes and heading downstairs. You wonder if Wally has come to help you fix the house up more.
"Oh my god, hey!" Julie throws her arms around you, giving you a big hug. "I was worried you might not be home!"
"Well, here I am."
"It's break time!" Julie tells you. "No more working on the house, you and I are going out."
You laugh, "Well, I would have to start working for it to be considered a break-"
Julie tugs on your arm, "Pleaseee go out with me?" She blinks up at you with wide eyes. "We'll have so much fun!"
You glance back at your unfinished house, still reluctant to leave. Yet, you grab your coat anyways, stepping out into the sunshine. "Where are we going?"
Julie lights up, "You'll see."
You're lead through the neighborhood. As you walk, you're given the full tour by Julie.
"There's the supermarket." She points. "Oh and that there is Barnaby's house. He's still sleeping at this time of day."
You check your watch. It's nearly noon already.
"That's my house!" She points at a lovely flowered red house. "You're invited anytime, just so you know."
"How long did it take you to fix that up?" You ask, marveling at how elegant yet simple it is.
Julie thinks on it for a second, "Fix it up?" She asks. "It's just... always been that way."
You scrunch your face up, "You bought it like that?"
She seems confused, so you decide not to press it any further. Has Julie lived here her whole life? Where is her family?
That's when another odd thing strikes you. The entire town consists of single individuals that live alone in homes. You've never heard of such a thing. Sure, a few individuals here and there in homes is normal, but an entire town?
You notice Julie has gone quiet. It's an unusual change from her normally peppy self. You fear that maybe you pressed into something personal.
"This is the post office." Julie gestures, suddenly speaking up again. Her previous demeanor is forgotten now and her lively energy is returned. "That's where Eddie works."
You notice another familiar face poking about.
"Frank!" Julie bounces up and down excitedly, waving her hand.
Frank jumps from the sudden noise, head swiveling to find the source. He relaxes slightly when he sees it's only Julie.
You and Julie trot over to him.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, chin raised pompously.
"What are you doing here is the real question." Julie teases. "Have you come to see Eddie?"
"No!" Frank tenses, eyes looking around nervously. "I just have a letter to send and wanted to make sure that it got here. Mailboxes and so unreliable-"
"Uh huh." Julie can't control her grin. "Sure, Frank."
Frank opens his mouth to say something else, but Eddie comes around the corner just as he does. You thought that Frank already looked nervous, but that is nothing compared to how he looks as he and Eddie make eye contact.
"Oh hey Frank!" Eddie gives a toothy grin, cheeks scrunched up and head tilting to the side.
"Eddie!" Frank holds his envelope to his chest. "I-I've been looking for you!"
Eddie seems to perk up, "You have?"
"Yes!" Frank shoves out the letter. "I just needed to mail this."
"Oh." Eddie takes the letter. "Frank, you know I could've picked it up at your house, right?"
"Well, he wanted to hand deliver it." Julie nudges Frank playfully and receives a glare in return.
"I'll take good care it, Frank, I promise." Eddie tucks the letter into his pouch.
Julie coughs, "Well, we better get going, right?" She looks at you.
"Uh, right." You echo.
"You know, Eddie, I think Frank was talking about lunch?" Julie says. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was hungry! You two should go eat somewhere!"
"Julie!" Frank hisses.
"That sounds fun!" Eddie inputs.
"Perfect!" Julie grabs your arm. "Have fun guys! Bye-"
The two of you quickly stumble away. You can't help but laugh at Julie's blatant matchmaking attempt, Eddie's innocent obliviousness, and Frank's adorable embarrassment. Julie giggles along with you, leaning on you for support.
When you're both far enough away, Julie speaks up, "Do you think Eddie will ever take the hint?"
You shrug, "Only if Frank tells him directly."
"Like that'll ever happen." She lets go of your arm, standing up straighter. "Oh! We're almost there?"
"There?"
"The reason I brought you out!"
"Oh." You reply, following behind her as she picks up speed. "I thought the tour was why you brought me out here."
"Don't be silly!" Julie suddenly stops. "I brought you out here for this!"
You're not quite sure what you're looking at. The bright summer colors of Home are here. They are present in the brilliant green trees with fresh fruit and in the yellow dandelions and white daises and baby blue forget me nots. You've always adored the vividness of the neighborhood, but here...
It just stops.
It's like there's a line drawn in the forest. The fresh flora wilts and dies along it, the line marking there on out as dead.
"Was there... a fire?" You ask.
"No fire."
Even the sky looks bleaker on the other side.
You step back, "Some sort of parasite?"
"No parasites. No fires. No droughts, floods, locusts, or diseases."
You step forward again, gaining a bit of courage. Slowly, you reach out, sticking it beyond the line.
Nothing happens. You feel normal.
"Why?" You finally ask. "Why is this here?"
"I can't say."
When you finally return to your house, it's later than you would've liked. It's past dinnertime and you haven't even eaten yet. As you approach, you notice a familiar face sitting on your porch.
"Hey!" Wally stands quickly, brushing off his pants. "I've been waiting for you!" He adds with a playful tease.
"I like to play hard to get." You prod him back, unlocking the door and welcoming him in.
His large eyes flick over you. You feel like you're being examined. "Where have you been?"
"I'm sorry, Julie took me out on a tour of the town." You tell him. "I saw the market, the post office, Barnaby's house-"
"And you stayed in town the whole time?" He presses. "I looked for you, I didn't see you."
You chuckle, "You didn't have to come searching for me, I'm sure you have more important things to do." You avoid the original question. You're not sure why, but you feel like the forest is a secret between you and Julie.
"You are the important thing." Wally follows behind you as you clean up the kitchen.
You pause, then quickly resume your work. "Am I?"
As you reach up to tuck a mug into the cupboard, Wally takes the mug from you, reaching up with ease to place it for you, "I would've imagined that you would've taken the hint by now, but it seems that I must take the liberties myself."
Wally leans on the counter and faces you, "Do you find me attractive?"
You're not sure what to say to that, you sputter out nonsense, "Well, err-"
"I find you attractive. Every part. I find your quips and teasing attractive, your laugh and the way your cheeks scrunch up when you smile, the curve of your lips and the paint droplets on your pants." He takes a second to breathe. "And honestly, there's nothing more in the world that I would like to do right now than to help you paint your house or whatever else you would ask of me."
You wait a moment, processing his words.
"Whatever I ask of you?"
He looks earnest, "Whatever."
You tug him into a kiss, closing your eyes. He seems surprised at first and the kiss is slow and hesitant, each of you too afraid to do much. You're slightly surprised, for such a smooth talker, Wally doesn't really seem to know what to do. Has he kissed someone before?
You decide to take the lead. His lips are soft and gentle as you mouth over his bottom lip, tongue sticking out to play around.
Wally's hands find their way to your waist, gripping you tight as if he's checking that you're real. His thumb rubs small circles at the small of your back.
He seems to mimic you, tongue poking out to prod at yours, eventually making it's way into your mouth to feel around. He's gentle, but he is slowly growing more confident by the second. Wally tugs your waist in tighter and tongue going deeper into your mouth almost possessively.
The intensity of the kiss escalates quickly and you find yourself having to pull away to catch a breath. You open your eyes to find him staring down at you, his normally half lidded eyes wide open and exhilarated, a faint blush scattering his cheeks.
"I liked that." Wally says quietly. "We should do that more often."
_____
Life is great.
You've gotten quite a bit done on the house, mostly with the help of all the neighbors. The living room, kitchen, and bedroom are all finished and you've honestly never felt more at home. When you go to the supermarket, Howdy always greets you with a warm hello and a free sample of whatever the special of the day is. In the mornings, Eddie stops by for idle chat as he brings the mail. Whenever Poppy makes a new treat she comes over to give you some. Even with just a stroll through the neighborhood you're always greeted and smiled at by the other neighbors.
You sit in your backyard, cross-legged in the grass with your canvas propped up awkwardly on your legs. Your brush glides along the canvas, curving around to get the details just right. You bring the brush up to your face for a moment, biting on the wooden end as you think.
"You look cute when you're concentrating."
You blink up in surprise to see Wally leaning on the side of your house, arms crossed.
"How long have you been there?" You smile at him, setting down your canvas and standing up.
Wally merely shrugs with a grin. You run over to him, throwing your arms around his neck. He grips onto your waist, lifting you up and spinning around once before setting you back down and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. You hug him, taking a moment to enjoy his masculine cologne scent before pulling away.
Yes, life is great. Wally Darling is yours.
“I was thinking you and I could spent the day together.” He hums.
You nod, “Let me just clean up my painting supplies-“
“Let me help.” Wally follows, carefully taking your paintbrushes as you grab your wet canvas. He trails behind you as you go inside, setting up your canvas to dry in your art room as Wally washes the brushes in the kitchen sink.
When you return, you find Wally with his head tilted and eyes cast towards the ceiling, frozen at the kitchen sink. He doesn’t seem to notice your presence.
“Is… something wrong?”
Wally blinks, snapping out of it and turning his head to smile at you warmly. “No, of course not.” He replies. “I was just thinking.”
“Oh?” You ask, walking up beside him as he finishes washing the last brush.
“You haven’t been to my Home yet.” His half lidded eyes cast towards you.
“No, I suppose I haven’t.” You say. “Odd, considering you’re over here all the time.
Wally chuckles, “Well, would you like to go?”
Before you know it, you’re inside Wally Darling’s house. It’s somehow exactly how you expected it to be. Everything is neat and tidy, carefully placed and well maintained. There’s an old charm to the house, as if it stepped out of the 60’s.
“It’s weird being in here.” You say, wandering through his living room. There’s framed photos on the walls of Wally and his friends. You take the time to examine them.
“Why so?” Wally watches you with warm amusement.
“It just feels so…” You stare at a picture of Barnaby holding Wally in a tight hug. Wally looks like he’s being squished. “Personal.”
Wally laughs, “Well, it is personal.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder as you continue to stare at his pictures.
“No, it’s different.” You tell him. “Somehow it feels like I’m getting a glimpse into your soul.”
There’s a pause.
“Well maybe you are.”
Wally lets go, turning and heading up a set of stairs. “Let me show you my painting room.” You follow after him.
He leads you to a large, beautiful room. With the high ceiling and long window sill big enough to lounge on, the room looks elegant. Coupled with the mass amount of paintings lining the walls and easels of the room, it looks like a modern art gallery.
“Wow, Wally.” You stare at his work, secretly jealous of his technique.
He seems proud of himself. “I think-“
There’s a sudden loud crash from downstairs. You jump.
Whipping your head around, you turn back towards the door. “Did something fall?”
Wally merely frowns. “Yeah. Something fell.” He says, turning his eyes up.
“Oh.” You say. Clearly Wally seems to not be concerned with it, so you won’t be either.
“Why don’t we go back downstairs.” Wally suggests, taking your hand.
The two of you settle down on the couch. You giggle and tease Wally for his old school television. You swear that thing probably is still in black and white.
As you chat, you both slowly inch closer together. It starts with a simple finger brushing at your thigh, then an arm is popped around your neck, and then finally Wally is leaning in and kissing you.
You let yourself be taken by the kiss, planting your hand at the back of his neck and brushing your finger along the base of his soft hair. Wally places his hand on your cheek and you press into it, tilting your head more into the kiss.
Your chest flutters, eyes blinking open for half a second so that you can stare at him. To your surprise, his eyes are already open and watching you. He squints happily at you, smiling into the kiss as he deepens it, tongue pressing further into your mouth.
Wally’s other hand trails down your arm, causing goosebumps all the way. He flicks his tongue against the sensitive roof of your mouth before retreating back.
You feel words pressed against your lips but you can’t hear them. They’re hardly even a whisper, more like he is just mouthing words.
No, he’s repeating something. You try to understand him.
“I love you.”
You blink, pulling away from him.
“I love you too.” You whisper.
Yes, life is great.
Until it isn’t.
_____
Lightning cracks, illuminating the room as you finish up moving some furniture around. You stand with your hands on your hips, staring out at the freshly decorated art room. Finally, the work on your house is all done.
You could hear the wind beat about outside and the hard rain hit your windows. There was something odd about it all, though you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Storms are natural, after all.
Though, there hadn't been a single storm since you moved in.
Walking through the finished halls of your house gives you a sense of accomplishment. Patting the wall, you glance at the clock.
It's nearing time for you to meet up with Wally. The two of you had planned a date out to the pond to feed ducks, though you suppose that the rain ruined those plans.
You near the window, watching the dreary sky. It's midafternoon, but it looks like it's the middle of the night. Your eyes sweep over the neighborhood, making eye contact with Wally's house.
Wait, no, not eye contact. It's a house, it doesn't have eyes.
Still, the lights are on and now you have this odd feeling in your stomach.
As you look back up at the sky, you think the clouds don't look like regular rainclouds. They seem a sickly black color and you remember the forest that Julie had showed you. The dark clouds remind you of the baren land.
Is this a sign it's spreading? The lump in your stomach grows heavier. You feel dumb for forgetting about it.
You glance at the clock again. Perhaps there's enough time to check before Wally arrives. You rush to your mudroom, tugging on your rain coat and rubber boots.
As you trek through the rain, you wonder if you should've just stayed in your house. The wind moves you about, making you stumble over your heavy boots. The rain blows sideways, rendering your raincoat nearly useless as you're soaked anyways.
It's never rained this bad in the neighborhood. Actually, now that you think about it, it's never rained at all in the neighborhood.
Soon enough you reach the edge of the neighborhood, where the rot stretches as far as you can see. You were right, it seems to be spreading. The rot has crept forward, consuming what was once a small woodsy park path.
You stare down at where the sidewalk ends and the forest starts. Why does the sidewalk stop?
Where is the road to lea-
"What are you doing out here?"
You startle, flipping around quickly. Wally stands in his usual attire, his navy hair and knitted overcoat soaked from the rain.
"I just wanted to explore in the rain." You lie. You don't even know why you lie. You trust Wally.
Right?
Wally glances towards the forest, scrunching his brows, "Did somebody tell you something?"
You quickly shake your head, "No, I was just walking around and... I found this." You gesture toward the forest. "What is this, Wally?"
Wally frowns, looking at you, not the forest. "It's been so warm lately, there was a small fire that lit up the grass around here." He looks up. "We really needed this rain."
It's a lie. Your stomach turns in knots. Wally is lying to you. This rot has been here a while. If it had been a fire, new green growth would've sprang up ages ago.
"We should get out of this rain." Wally says, water dripping down his face and arms. "So much for feeding ducks, huh?" He extends his hand.
You take it, though hesitantly. Before, you hadn't suspected that he would be a part of this, but now nothing makes sense.
"Wally, how did you find me out here?" You ask as you walk with him. "We were supposed to meet up at my house."
"Hm?" His eyes cast upwards as he thinks for a moment. "I suppose I just... had a feeling."
This makes you even more wary and you feel bad for it. You love Wally, and yet you're now doubting his motivations. You don't even know how he would have anything to do with the forest's color.
You and Wally arrive back at your house. You grab a towel for him to dry off with and he rubs it over his plush skin.
Plush skin?
You hadn't thought about it before, but isn't that weird? You look at your own hands. You are definitely not plush.
Wally throws the towel over his head, wringing out his hair. You stare at him and the more you look, the more unsettled you get. He has no nose, is that normal? Something in the back of your mind is telling you it isn't.
Wally's intense eyes peek from behind the towel. "Everything okay?"
"Yes." You shake your head, turning away. "I was just watching you."
He gives a lazy smile, eyes relaxing. "Well, I like watching you too."
You give a laugh, "Thanks, Wally."
He stands, walking over and hugging you from behind. Before, it used to feel gentle and safe, but now it feels like entrapment. He nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses.
"What shall we do now that our plans have been ruined?" He smiles, hot breath on your neck.
You pull away from him, "Actually, I'm feeling a little tired. Maybe rain check?"
Wally's face falls, then suddenly lights back up again, "We could nap together-"
"No, no, I mean, I just want to be alone right now." You tell him. "I just... had a rough night's sleep."
Wally stares at you for a long moment, wide eyes peering into your conscience. Finally, he smiles, "Oh, no worries, neighbor." He hands you back your towel. "We'll do something tomorrow when it's less rainy, right?"
"Right." You nod, watching him head to the door.
Wally grasps the doorknob, turning to you at the last second, "Oh, one more thing." He leans towards where you stand in the kitchen doorway. "I wouldn't go exploring in the forest anymore, too many nasty things out there, if you ask me. Wouldn't want anyone getting hurt." He gives a light smile, opening the door and heading out.
You watch him go, hurrying to the window. You keep your eye on him until he is home.
Something is not right in the neighborhood.
You throw your rain attire back on, determined to get to the bottom of this. You take a deep breath, patting the side of your house.
"We got this." You whisper.
As you step outside, you notice that the rain seems to have worsened. You hold onto the hood of your raincoat, pushing past the wind. When you reach the edge of the forest, you don't stop. Instead, you trudge forward into the rot.
It's squishy against your feet, with the occasional odd lump of hardness. Everything is wilted and scorched. You wonder what could possibly be the cause.
As you wonder, you start to really think about the circumstances in the neighborhood. You lift your hand again, staring at it.
Flesh. You have flesh. Not felt or feathers or fur.
How did you move into a neighborhood with such creatures?
No, wait, how did you move into the neighborhood at all?
You bought the house... but you don't remember any real estate agents or documents.
You... you haven't even been working. What have you been doing? You've just been playing around the neighborhood. In fact, nobody in the neighborhood seemed to have jobs.
Your brain feels fuzzy. None of this makes sense.
You're still hiking through the decay, finding nothing of note. That is, until you see green in the distance. You perk up, sprinting forward.
Yes, there is green grass ahead. Whatever the decay is, it isn't very big luckily.
As you get closer, you furrow your brow.
Somehow, you've ended up on the other side of the neighborhood.
How?
You step onto the grass, realizing you've ended up by the post office.
That doesn't make sense. You walked away from the neighborhood, there's no possible way you ended up on the other side of it.
Perhaps you got mixed up. You turn around, jogging through the diseased wood.
This time, you end up near Julie's.
How do you walk away from something and end up back at it?
Walk around the world.
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Wally wanted you away from the forest for a reason. This is his world, and you're in it.
You sprint up to Julie's house, pounding on the door. "Julie!" You yell. "Julie!"
You get no answer, so you move over to the window, shielding your eyes against the glass to see inside.
There's no one there.
You tug your raincoat closer to your body, looking up at the ever blackening clouds.
You have to confront Wally.
Back at your house, you prepare to face him. You're not sure what to expect, but you want to be ready for anything. You dig through your belongings, procuring a baseball bat and a box cutter.
Your house whines against the wind, creaking and settling in the powerful storm. You sit for a minute, putting your head in your hands. All this work on your house, all this friendship, and is any of it real? Nothing seems to make sense. Why? Why is any of this happening?
As you leave, you sigh.
"I'll be back."
The wind catches on your house and it whines louder.
When you arrive at Wally's house, you go to knock on the door only to find it already open. You press it open, keeping your guard up as you grip the baseball bat.
"Wally?" Your voice echoes off the walls as you step inside. It seems awfully dark in Wally's house.
Lightning cracks, illuminating the front windows of Wally's house. For a moment, they are eyes, observing you. The lightning then leaves darkness and you hear the front door slam shut. You turn back towards the door, tugging on the doorknob only to find it locked.
"Caught the snitch."
You turn to see Wally illuminated in the darkness, a figure hanging over his head.
It's Julie. She hangs from strings, her limbs twisted and broken. Her jaw hangs unnaturally slack, face bloodied.
"In fact, I caught everybody." More lights irradiate from the darkness, casting large shadows on the wall as they illuminate the bodies of the other neighbors, all in similar states.
Wally walks towards Howdy, "Too much talking lately, really a shame. I wanted to have you willingly."
You stand frozen, hands still on your baseball bat.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He laughs. "Plus, they're fine." He gestures towards the bodies on strings above him. "I just took away their will. Clearly they couldn't be trusted with it on their own." He clicks his tongue, shaking his head disapprovingly.
The edges of your eyes crease up. You still don't understand.
"Come, let me explain." He gestures to the couch. You don't move. "Please, sit."
You don't.
Wally looks up. "Home?"
To your amazement, a chair glides over, moving behind you and slamming into your legs, making you tumble down onto it. It slides over to where Wally now sits.
You clutch the edges of the chair in fright.
"That's Home." Wally explains. "Home is... the source of it all. A manifestation of desire, if you will."
You swallow, "It's alive?"
Wally grins. It's wider and realer than any grin you've seen before. "Of course." He crosses one leg over the other. "It's alive just like you and me are alive."
"But you're plush." You tell him.
"I'm built on the desires of thousands of young children across the nation that watched my show." Wally looks nostalgic. "Oh, you were such a dedicated little viewer, you know that?"
"Huh?" Show? What is he talking about.
"You used to sit every night in front of the TV, you know that?" Wally continues. "And you would say, 'Okay, Mr. Wally, show me how to draw!' I taught you everything you know about painting."
... Yes, the show. How could you forget? The theme song starts to play in your head. You loved that show as a kid.
"You loved me so much." Wally sighs. "And I loved you, and then you went away."
"I was an adult." Of course you went away, you couldn't sit around watching TV all day. You had a job, you had a family... your family! How long have you been gone? "I had responsibilities."
"I desired you." Wally looks at you desperately. "You desired a place you belonged! I watched you, how you struggled to fit in, the long hours at work, the family arguments. I made it all go away! You've been so happy-"
"They were struggles, but they were my struggles!" You shout, standing up. "You don't get to decide for me!"
Wally sighs, head falling to the side. "See, this is why I wanted you willingly." He casts his hand up. "Oh well."
You feel tightness tug at your arms. No, it's tugging at your bones. You look, thin wire strings protrude from your arms and spring from your legs, pulling you up towards the ceiling.
"I'll just take away your free will for a while." Wally runs a hand through his dark hair. "Then you'll want to play along."
You can feel the strings scraping against your bones under your skin. You struggle against them, getting yourself tangled in the process.
"What shall we act out first?" Wally stands, pacing around the room. "We did have that pond date-"
You twist, reaching your hand towards your back pocket, where the box cutter is stashed. It's an awkward reach, but you manage to grasp it, pushing it open with your thumb and slashing at your strings. You fall to the floor, grabbing the bat and taking off running for the door.
Wally clicks his tongue, "You were so docile before you knew the truth. I'll have to stamp this disobedience out of you now."
You ram the baseball bat into the door, denting the doorknob until the lock falls apart and you can run out the door.
There's no exit. The forest loops. Surely there must be a way out, right? Where, where...
Wally laughs, "Where are you running to? There's no where to go!"
You don't know, but away from here. You sprint, running towards the only place where you feel safe, your house.
"My little viewer." Wally sounds agitated now. "Enough games. If you come back now, I'll go easy on you."
Over your dead body. You're out of breath by the time you reach your house, slamming the door shut and locking it, back pressed against the door as you pant and Wally begins to bang on the door.
Surely there must be something of use to you. Think, think... where is the exit out of this place?
You hear Wally start to kick down the door. It cracks and starts to splinter with each kick.
One of the neighbors' houses? No, they might've said something.
Wally is stronger than you thought. With a final kick, your door crumbles, swinging open. Wally looks even more deranged now, eyes large and locked on you.
"My dear," he breathes. "Let's be reasonable, come back with me."
He extends his hand. When you don't take it, he frowns, moving forward. He grasps you by your face, fingertips digging bruises into your cheeks as he pulls you closer.
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
You press your hands against his chest, trying to push him away. This only angers him more. Wally lifts his hand, readying it to fall down on your face. You close your eyes, preparing yourself for the eventual hit.
It doesn't come.
You open your eyes to see Wally's hand still in the air. Except... there's a string attached to it. Wally's expression has changed from anger to fear, he stares at his arm as another string appears on his opposite arm. You back away from him.
Wally looks at you, "Please, don't-" He reaches for you, only to have his hand yanked away before he can.
It's... your house. It dawns upon you quickly and more strings appear from Wally's skin. He struggles, the strings dragging him.
"Please, please, I can't-"
You look up at your house, reaching and patting the wall. "Take him away."
"Please-"
Wally screams as the strings scratch against his bones, dragging him kicking and screaming towards your basement.
_____
"Oh, I have some drinks in the fridge, let me grab you one!"
You weave your way through the bustling party, dodging Barnaby as he throws grapes in the air and catches them in his mouth and sliding past the way-too-handsy Frank and Eddie.
You're celebrating your finished house, and the party is going spectacularly. Two guests still haven't arrived, but you're not too worried.
You snatch up glass bottles of soda that you bought at Howdy's shop earlier that day and toss one to Sally, who gracefully catches it.
"You've put a lot of work into this place." Howdy says with a smile, leaning on the counter.
You glance over, "Yeah, I couldn't have done it without you guys though, thank you all for your help."
"Oh, you did most of it!" Sally waves her hand.
"It's just what neighbors do." Howdy shrugs.
The doorbell rings and you rush to the door, throwing it open to reveal Julie, holding a small present in her hands.
"Sorry I'm so late, I had to wrap your gift!"
"You didn't have to get me a gift!" You laugh, throwing your arms around her for a big hug. She squeezes you tight before you both pull away from each other.
"No, I really had to." She holds out the gift. "After everything you've done for all of us."
You gently take the wrapped gift as she steps into your house, waving at everybody.
"Hello everybody!" Julie squeals, making her way over to nudge Frank playfully. "And hello, Frank and Eddie!"
Frank turns a deep red, shying away. "It's really nothing-"
Eddie gives a wide smile, gripping Franks hand tighter, "Almost losing all your control makes you confess things."
Julie gives a light smile, "Well, we never have to worry about that again."
You politely set the gift on the counter for later, turning back towards everybody. "Then I propose a toast!"
"We'll need bread for that." Barnaby grins, nudging you playfully. You shake your head with a laugh, gently shoving him away.
Everyone raises their sodas, letting you speak.
"To freedom, to free will, to all of us. It's what lets us choose our paths, chase our dreams, and live life to our own terms. To making our choices, learning from our own mistakes, and creating our victories."
Everyone cheers.
"Most importantly, to you." Julie adds in, pointing her raised glass to you. "You've made this neighborhood a wonderful place."
This makes everyone cheer louder. You bump glasses with everyone, letting Barnaby rub your head affectionately and Sally rope you into a side hug.
"Now open the gift!" Julie claps.
You laugh, grabbing the gift and tearing it open. Sitting inside in a beautiful framed picture of everyone in the neighborhood.
Well, everyone except-
The doorbell rings again, and you politely excuse yourself to answer it.
It's Wally. He looks rough. Dark bags underline his eyes and his usually tidy hair is in disarray. He looks up at your house nervously.
"Oh, hello Wally." You watch him carefully. If you look close enough, you can see the strings buried in his arms and neck.
He holds out flowers, which is nice, you guess. You take them, opening the door for him to come inside. He hesitates, then steps in.
You linger, your eyes following him as he greets everyone else. He got what he wanted, you're stuck here. There's no way out.
You can see his stiff movements, the fish line strings tugging at his skin and bones, uncomfortably present at all times.
"Are you coming?" Julie yells. "Poppy's going to bring out the cake!"
The punching bag creaks as its ceiling mount bears the force of your thrust, yet all you hear is Beyond Birthday's wet cackles as he is pushed to the ground.
You gear up for another punch, shaking your head. Your fist collides with the bag, sending it back. As it's swinging, it becomes Halle, crumpling to the ground wordlessly, blonde hair speckled with blood.
But then it swings back and it's merely a punching bag again.
You let out a breath, tearing off the boxing gloves and throwing them to the ground. You can't do this.
You turn, sensing a presence in the doorway. You throw up your arm defensively, only for it to be Mello.
"Your boxing has been getting better." Mello says, running a hand through his messy hair. He looks tired, the bags under his eyes are dark.
"Don't give me that bullshit." For some reason he feels so foreign to you now.
Mello stays silent as you sit down on the boxing mat, tearing off your sneakers and throwing one and then the other. You put your head in your hands.
"I'm sorry." You tell him. "It feels like Kira's return is my fault."
Ever since Halle's death, criminals have been dropping dead of heart attacks across the globe.
Beyond Birthday died from an infection in his head wound.
"It's not your fault." Mello's voice is firm.
"I thought Kira was dead."
"Kira is dead." Mello asserts. "This isn't Kira, it's a well laid out plan Kira left behind."
"Kira's successor?"
Mello frowns at this, "Light Yagami wouldn't have planned for his own death. He was too cocky for that."
"I've been thinking..." You've had a lot of time to think lately. "Why Halle?" You look at him. "Why would they choose Halle to send the message?"
"They were able to get ahold her name, I suppose." Mello scrunches his eyebrows. "Why?"
"It seems odd that Halle would be one the one they chose." You rub your face. "Why not Gevanni or Rester?"
"I think you're overthinking it." Mello crosses his arms. "The SPK has incredible security. They got ahold of a name and used it to convey the message."
You purse your lips. Perhaps you are looking at the situation too closely. You, Halle, and everyone else besides Kira and L's Successors are merely pawns.
"Mello," you look up at him. "Why did you come here?"
Mello shrugs, looking down. "Was just dropping by."
"You, Matt, and Near have been constantly busy since Kira's reappearance. I haven't seen you in over a week. You didn't happen to be walking by, you purposely stopped in... why?"
Mello sighs, casting his gaze aside. "I would still like to box with you." His eyes flick back to you.
You stare at the punching bag. It still swings. "I don't think I want to box anymore." You heave yourself from the floor. "But that doesn't matter, that's not why you're here."
He's silent, sharp eyes watching you closely. He's analyzing you just as you are analyzing him.
"You three have hardly even eaten in between your detective work." You walk towards him. "You wouldn't just... stop by for boxing."
He's better at analyzing than you, "When's the last time you've eaten?" He quips back. "Or slept, for that matter? Gevanni said you've been screaming in your sleep."
Your ears burn red, "I don't think that's any of your business."
"Fine... I guess I'll just go back to work then, since apparently that was my only motive for coming here." He pauses, flexing his fist open and closed, staring at you for another second before turning and walking out.
As you're left alone, you want to destroy things. You want to tear the wallpaper from the walls and scratch the floors with the mangled debris of cabinets, but the thing you want to do least is touch that god forsaken punching bag.
So, you merely grab your shoes and leave.
As you enter your room, you see the little plush dog that Mello got you sitting as it usually does, near your pillow. But now you can't bear to look at it so you grab the little thing by its soft neck. Its button eyes glare at you as you shove it into a drawer, begging yourself to forget about it.
You feel a sudden presence in the room.
"I thought you were supposed to stay away from me, Ryuk." You say as you slam the drawer closed, turning to see the hulking monster hovering near your bed.
"You're the Death Note owner, isn't it natural I be with you?" Ryuk rasps.
You smile, "I don't seem to remember a rule saying that the shinigami had to follow the owner." You tilt your head. "Did the boys get too boring for you?"
Ryuk laughs, "I was curious. I keep thinking about Beyond Birthday... I can't seem to decide if it was you or Kira that killed him."
You turn away from Ryuk, fussing with the books on your dresser, "Have you ever thought that perhaps Beyond Birthday really did just die of an infection?"
"I have and I don't believe it."
"So would you believe me if I told you it wasn't me?"
Ryuk laughs some more, "Say, where is that scrap of the notebook that you stole?"
You turn back sharply towards him, pressing a finger to your lips, "Hidden somewhere." You raise a brow. "You're not a snitch?"
"Perhaps you're more interesting than I gave you credit." Ryuk moves across the walls like a spider. It's unsettling. "I won't tell a soul."
Good. As long as you're interesting, he's on your side. Perhaps you can use it. You're being sheltered from the investigation, but that's not going to stop you from investigating on your own.
"You know, what I can't seem to wrap my head around is how me obtaining the Death Note leads to Kira's return." You cross your arms. "That has to be the catalyst to all this, right? If it was possible to do on his own, Beyond Birthday would've just done it without me."
Ryuk just laughs, giving you no information. You're interesting, but not as interesting as Kira.
"Ryuk!" You hear Matt call from the hallway.
"Looks like I gotta go." Ryuk rasps. He presses a finger to his lips, imitating you, before disappearing into the wall farthest from where Matt's voice had rung out.
You poke your head out into the hallway.
Matt eyes you, "Have you seen the shinigami?"
"No." You lie, stepping fully into the hallway.
Matt groans, "Great."
You lean against your door, watching as he scuffs the ground with his foot.
"Stupid shinigami." He mutters, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "Given us absolutely nothing."
"How's the investigation?" You ask.
"Enh." He shrugs. "All work and no play. So boring-" As he's talking, he seems to realize he's talking about the case too casually to you and slowly trails off.
"It's okay." You tell him. "I've been bored too."
"Yeah?" He looks at you for a long second. "Why don't we do something tonight then?"
"Do something?" You perk up. "Like what?"
"A bar." Matt says. "You don't have to worry about Beyond Birthday anymore, so we should go out."
"That sounds great!" It's the first time you've felt excited in a long while. It feels good.
"Great, then I'll catch you later." Matt winks, turning away. "I have a shinigami to catch first."
He trots away and you watch him go, wondering why Ryuk was hiding from them.
Later that night, just when you were beginning to think that Matt had forgotten all about you, there's a knock at your bedroom door.
Matt's at the door, dressed in a bomber jacket and aviators.
"The others aren't coming with us?" You ask.
"Nah." He replies, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "They don't know we're going out."
You glance nervously to the side.
"It's fine, I promise." Matt says.
"Okay then." You say skeptically.
When the cool breeze hits your face as you step outside, you let out a long breath. It feels good to be outdoors.
"Car's over here." Matt gestures, walking over. You follow.
"It's the same car you kidnapped me in." You say as Matt climbs into the driver's seat.
"Yeah, I had it fixed after the crash, of course." He pats the side of the car. "It's my baby."
You roll your eyes, climbing into the passenger seat. Matt keeps the windows down as he cruises over the speed limit. As he drives, he sticks a cigarette in his mouth.
"Give me a light." He says through the cigarette in his mouth. "It's in the glove compartment."
You open the compartment, digging through the junk. Papers fall out, as well as a gun. You quickly tuck that back in. In the very back you find the lighter. You flick it on, holding it up to Matt's mouth.
The cigarette lights and Matt seems to relax, taking a breath in and letting the smoke seep out his nose after. He grabs the cigarette between his fingers, removing it from his mouth and shaking the ash out the window.
"Smoking is bad for you." You tell him.
He smiles, taking another long drag of his cigarette, "I know."
"Then why do you do it?" You ask, sticking your arm out the window to feel the wind. "I thought you were a genius."
"Don't care." He shrugs. "Feels good."
When you arrive at the bar, you and Matt choose the seats furthest from the door and order your drinks. Matt gets a sour beer, you get a cider. The two of you sip as the chatting in the bar gets louder as it gets busier and busier.
"How have you been?" Matt asks, tapping his beer on the counter.
"Fine." It's an automatic response. "Actually, not fine, I guess."
"Yeah." He nods, still fidgeting with the bottle. "I'm sorry."
A pang hits you and you think of Halle.
"Were you and Halle close?" You ask. You certainly weren't and yet, this death is affecting you nearly as much as your family's.
"Close?" Matt looks up, scrunching his brows. "Not particularly. I mean, she was around a lot during the Kira case, but her and Mello were closer than I was to her."
A new thought pops into your head. Was this affecting Mello at all? You hadn't even considered that. The way those three treat death is astoundingly cold to you. Just a few nights ago, Matt was out barhopping with Halle and now he says they weren't close. You wonder if you died, would Matt, Mello, and Near simply continue on with their lives?
"Matt, how many people have you seen die?" You ask.
"Oh," Matt leans back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head. "Too many to count." He makes eye contact with you. "Too many." Surprisingly, he sounds regretful. He leans forward again, tugging a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up.
"I'm sorry."
He smiles gently, "Let's not apologize to each other anymore, okay? We both know damn well we're sorry."
You laugh. It's comforting, but in a different way.
When you arrive back at the SPK facility, Matt drops you off at the entrance.
"I'm gonna park the baby out back." He grins, tapping his car.
You laugh, "Well, thank you, I had a great time."
"I did too."
As you enter the building, you feel the alcohol slosh in your stomach. Perhaps you had gotten too carried away. You climb the stairs to the upper floor.
It's late, you try to be quiet in the dark hallway as you sneak over to your room, but as you're opening your bedroom door, another door down the hall opens.
Mello stands in his doorway, illuminated only by the blue light of a computer in his room.
"You're back." He says.
You swallow, wondering if you're about to be scolded. "Yes."
There's a pause, Mello stands there in the darkness, the blue light shining off of his golden hair. He speaks up, "I wish I had prevented all this."
It takes you a second to process this.
"If I could do it all over, I would stop Beyond Birthday before he hurts your family. I would stop Halle from dying. I would prevent Kira from killing again." He takes a breath. "I would say the right things at the right times."
You walk over to him, peering up at him through the darkness.
"I don't need a fix for the past." You tell him, gently taking his hands into yours.
"Can we just... start over?" Mello has never looked so longingly at you.
"I don't want to start over." Your hands slide up his arms, running over his muscled forearms and his broad shoulders. "I want to continue where we left off."
Mello leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. It's hesitant, at first, as if he thinks you won't reciprocate. As he realizes you're kissing back, he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer so that you're pressed again his body. Your hand finds the back of his head, weaving your fingers into his hair.
When you pull away for a breath, Mello continues to press small kisses to your lips, then your cheeks and forehead. You laugh.
"We'll continue this tomorrow, right?" Mello still breathes heavily from the kiss.
"Of course." You put your hand to his cheek, which he presses into. You trail your fingers away as you head to your room. "Goodnight, Mello."
You sit in the back of the ambulance as a paramedic tends to your leg, feeling like a prisoner. They've locked you away while Beyond Birthday is taken care of.
You need stitches, which on a normal occasion would've had you groaning and squirming from the needle tugging and penetrating your flesh, but now all you feel is a sort of numbness. The paramedic rolls up your pants, beginning the process. You sit very still on the gurney and even though the paramedic talks gently to you, you don't hear a word he says.
Nobody will tell you the cause of deaths for your family. It makes you sick to your stomach.
The paramedic says something else as he wraps up the wound in gauze, standing up. As he exits, he shuts the doors behind him. You hear a firm click.
You immediately stand, grasping at the door handles. Locked. You didn't even know that ambulances could lock from the outside. Or maybe this one is just a special one.
You look around the cramped space. Medical supplies line the walls. For a second, you consider destroying the place. Near would pay for it all anyway. However, the anger is fading and you sink deeper and deeper into pure apathy. You can't be bothered to do anything, so you lay down on the gurney and close your eyes.
You pretend that you don't exist and for a few minutes it's peaceful. That is, until your meditation is interrupted by a rustling noise. You scrunch up your face, keeping your eyes closed as you try to pinpoint the noise. Could there be a mouse in here?
As the noise gets louder, you sigh, finally sitting up to get a look at where the noise is coming from. As you do, you freeze.
A monster.
That is the only thing that comes to mind as you see the large creature poking through the medical supplies.
It's beady eyes are trained on the cabinet, grotesque jaw flexing absently. It's searching for something in the cabinet.
You stumble off the gurney, trying to remain silent as you back towards the door. It's eyes flick towards you and you panic, turning to bang on the door.
"Let me out!" You scream. "There's a monster!"
Either no one hears you or they think you're still manic.
No one comes.
You press yourself against the door, horrified.
The creature's wide, toothy grin remains unchanged. It seems to be the only expression it can bear.
It's raspy voice imitates human speech, "Where the hell can a guy get an apple around here?"
You watch the creature close the cabinet, neck twisting to get a look at you. It cracks and snaps as he moves, making you feel sick to your stomach.
"This is what I missed the end of Kira for?" He sounds disappointed. "A girl?"
"What do you mean by that?" You demand, attempting to make your voice sound strong.
The creature laughs, neck snapping back upright. "Surely you couldn't have missed the biggest human genocide of the millennia."
"I know who Kira is." You snap back at it. "What does that have to do with you?"
It's unblinking eyes stare you down. "How boring. Other humans I've known would've figured that out already... and here Light was promising me that this would be exciting-"
"Light?"
"Perhaps I've said too much." The creature goes back to searching through the cabinets. "That notebook you acquired, perhaps you should take a closer look."
Oh right, you had completely forgotten about the notebook with everything else going on. You lift your shirt, pulling out the book. "I saw names in it earlier."
The creature doesn't respond and you flip to the first page.
The human whose name is written in this note shall die.
"This is Kira's murder weapon." You realize.
The creature laughs.
You look up at it, "So you are some sort of demon?"
"Call me what you will. Demon, Death God, Shinigami. Makes no difference to me." The creature rasps. "I call myself Ryuk."
"Ryuk." You echo, sliding your fingers over the pages of the notebook. "So Kira is... this Light that you mentioned."
This seems to amuse Ryuk. "Yes, Kira was a man, not a god."
"You said was." You look at Ryuk. "Kira is dead?"
"I felt his last heartbeats and consumed his life myself."
"Is that what death is? Consumption?" This makes you feel queasy as you think about your family.
"Not for everyone."
He doesn't elaborate and you don't even know if you would want him to. You steer the conversation somewhere else.
"So Kira left this for me, not my father?"
"I saw your father put the notebook into the safe himself." Ryuk watches you evenly. "I swear it."
You're not sure you trust Ryuk in general, but you believe him on this.
"Why?”
Ryuk laughs. You can tell he's not giving you all the information.
Beyond Birthday's voice seems to echo mockingly in your head.
You're not asking the right questions.
You tighten your fist. "Why does this notebook exist?”
"For me?" Ryuk tilts his head. "It exists to keep me alive so I can eat lifespans. For you..." He seems to contemplate the answer. "It exists to amuse me."
He wants you to amuse him. You could almost laugh. Beyond Birthday wants you to continue Kira's legacy and the Death God merely wants you to amuse him.
You're going to kill Beyond Birthday.
Ryuk has long given up on finding an apple, so now it's your turn to rifle through the cabinets. Medical supplies fall out onto the floor of the ambulance, clattering loudly and rolling. You need something to write with... a pen, a marker... anything.
When you find nothing, you kneel onto the floor of the ambulance as it jostles you about, tearing out pages of the notebook. Pages of names scatter the floor until you're pulling out blank pages. They pile around you, yet the size of the notebook never seems to change.
Ryuk's dry laugh accompanies your frustration and you feel the ambulance come to a stop.
When the door opens, you're still sitting on the floor of the ambulance, surrounded by paper. Mello, Matt, and Near stare at you.
"Monsters are real." You say bluntly, pointing at Ryuk.
They give you a bewildered look, eyes looking in Ryuk's direction but not really seeing.
"Monsters?" Matt repeats. They're looking at you like you've completely lost it and maybe you have.
You turn, "Can they not see you?"
Ryuk laughs.
"SPK... Special Provisions for Kira." You echo what Near told you when you first met. "L was a detective on the Kira case and you three are his successors... I suppose I should've come to this conclusion earlier. You three defeated Kira."
There's a silent understanding. Their eyes sweep over the notebook paper.
"There's a shinigami there then?" Mello nods towards Ryuk. "Hand us the notebook so we can see it."
Your first instinct is to say no. You draw the notebook up to your chest, gripping it.
"It's my inheritance."
There's another beat of silence as the three men all seem to lag at this thought. They're thinking the same thing as you. Why would L leave this behind?
"It's a murder notebook." Near says evenly, trying to calm you down. "Let's secure it for now, we don't need to anything about it right away. You've had a rough day."
"Where's Beyond Birthday?" You demand.
"He's been detained and is being treated for his wounds."
"My family... can I see them." You're less demanding and more begging now.
Near swallows and chooses his words carefully, "There's not much left to see."
You feel your anger rising. "What did he do to them?"
"You don't want-"
"What did he do to them!" You yell over him. "Stop treating me with child gloves! I want to know... I deserve to know!"
The three exchange looks and then Near nods solemnly. "Okay..."
In the early hours of the morning, Beyond Birthday had broken into your childhood home and tortured your family for hours on end. Dismemberment featured heavily, along with burning and skinning. Near put it in much gentler terms, but you can read between the lines.
When he is finished explaining, you hold still. Mello seems ready to jump at you if you do anything drastic, so you don't. You hold out the notebook.
Gingerly, Near takes it. Matt and Mello quickly grab for it as well.
"Hello Mr. Shinigami." Near says, staring at Ryuk. "It's nice to meet you."
Mello studies Ryuk, "He's different than the one I've seen."
Ryuk's grin only seems to widen, "It's nice to meet you too."
While they're focused on the shinigami, you rip off a piece of one of the many pieces of blank paper and slide it into your back pocket. You're not sure if it will work or not, but it's your best chance at killing Beyond Birthday considering you have no writing utensil currently. You hop off of the back of the ambulance.
The focus returns to you.
"Your leg is okay?" Mello asks, eyes falling down to your stitches.
"I'm fine." Your leg is the least amount of hurt you've experienced today.
Mello looks like he wants to press further, but decides to give a swift nod instead.
"Let's go upstairs." Near hands the notebook to Matt, eyes darting to the pile of paper. Matt gives a nod of understanding. "Oh, and Shinigami, would you mind not following her around?" Near looks at you. "I figured it would be rather uncomfortable for you, considering the circumstances."
"I suppose." Ryuk agrees.
"Then all is settled for now." Near hovers a hand close to your shoulder, not quite touching you but rather attempting to guide you towards the door. You give in, letting him lead you away. You notice Matt and Mello stay behind.
You and Near ride up the elevator of the SPK headquarters, returning to the floor you had been in previously. Near brings you to the living room, offering food or entertainment, which you decline. Honestly, you just want to be alone with the notebook piece, but it seems Near is too concerned for your mental health to leave you alone. Little does he know, it's not your life he should be fearing for.
Near sits respectfully on the couch across from you, arms folded neatly over his lap.
"You're sure you don't want water?"
You shake your head, sinking back further into the couch. Maybe if you just force him to sit in silence for long enough he'll just leave.
You have no such luck. It seems like Near is the master of sitting silently and staring. Eventually, Halle walks in. As she approaches Near, she glances at you, eyes filled with sympathy before looking back at you.
"Mello and Matt want you."
Near nods, "Would you mind sitting with her while I'm gone?"
"Of course."
Near disappears and you're left with Halle. Your mind wanders to last night when she was rejected by Mello. You had been feeling ecstatic that Mello had chosen you and excited for your future boxing lessons. However, now, you can't really get yourself to feel anything but burning apathy and simmering rage.
"Hey," Halle speaks suddenly, voice soft and genuine. "I'm really sorry about your family."
For maybe just a moment, the anger fades and a heavy pit hangs in your chest.
"Thank you." You reply gently. "...I'm sorry about Mello."
Halle gives a laugh. You both know it's no where near the same, but you're both comforted by this tender exchange of condolences.
"I can't say I'm too proud of my own circumstances, but for you..." She looks at you. "There was nothing you could do. It's not your fault."
A lump grows in your throat.
"As for me... I was thinking I need a new start." Halle fiddles with her pale bangs. "Which means not being around Mello."
Your eyes widen, "You're leaving the SPK?"
"I figured this would be an ideal time to leave. We've caught Beyond Birthday and the inheritance has been found." She leans forward, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. "I know a lot has happened and you will have to live with it all, but it should be peaceful now. You no longer have to live in fear."
Despite knowing that Beyond Birthday is caught, you have a gnawing worry. It still doesn't feel like you're safe.
"Where will you go?" You ask.
"FBI, maybe CIA... or perhaps I'll move to Paris and become a baker." She smiles.
"Are you a good baker?"
"Not at all."
The two of you laugh until it settles into silence.
"I know it's too soon to start thinking about the future and you should have time to grieve, but you deserve a new start as well." Halle says softly. "There will be more after this."
You don't know what to say to that, so you don't say anything. Luckily, you're interrupted as Mello enters the room, Matt trailing behind him. You note the absence of Ryuk.
Mello sits near you on the couch while Matt sits on the other with Halle. For once, Matt doesn't make a joke. There's an awkward tension in the air. They don't know what to say to you.
That's okay, you don't know what to say to them either.
Mello leans forward so that his arms are on his knees. He fiddles with his hands. "We'll take care of all the funeral stuff, but if you want anything in particular, just let us know."
You give a soft sound of acknowledgement.
Mello looks over at Matt and Halle, then back at you. "You don't have to worry about money either. Your inheritance may not have been cash, but as successors to L's estate, we have plenty enough to support you generously."
You nod, "Thank you."
Mello opens his mouth, looking like he wants to say more, but he doesn't. Instead, he leans back.
You suppose this monetary assurance is Mello, Matt, and Near's way of giving condolences. For some reason, it doesn't feel as comforting as Halle's.
The silence returns. Matt jiggles his leg while Mello taps his foot and Halle drums her nails. Eventually you slap your hands down on your knees.
"You know, I'm actually thirsty."
The three look relieved.
"I'll come with you." Halle says. Mello and Matt move to get up as well, but you wave them off. They stay back as the two of you walk down to the kitchen.
"So when are you planning on leaving?" You ask Halle.
"I haven't told Near yet, so I'm not sure." Halle says as you both enter the kitchen.
"Are you a traveler?" You're curious. "It seems like Near keeps you too busy to travel."
Halle laughs, "Well, back when the SPK was actually the SPK, we traveled all over. Particularly Japan, of course." Halle grabs the glass, moving over to the sink. You turn towards the cabinets, seeing if there are any snacks. "We moved all over, and Mello would follow to keep an eye an on what Near was doing. Even Matt would-"
You hear glass shatter. You quickly turn around, "Are you okay-"
Halle has crushed the glass in her palm. It, of course, had shattered. Large chunks of glass sit in her palm while small shards and blood had made their way in every direction.
"Halle?"
You can’t explain it, but her eyes are glossy and not hers. She moves silently towards the back wall of the kitchen, leaving drips of blood on the tile. She drops the glass as she walks, flesh hanging apart from her muscle.
Reaching her mangled hand up, she starts to write on the wall. You can only watch in horror.
"Halle-"
As she finishes writing, she steps back so you can see what it says.
I'M BACK.
Halle reaches down, grabbing her gun from it's holster. You scramble forward, desperate to reach her, but it's too late.
She presses the gun to her head and pulls the trigger.
You and Near sit across from each other, eating the cheesy takeout pizza over the coffee table. You can't help but glance up at the time. Mello, Matt, Halle, and Gevanni are already at the bar. You wonder what kind of night they're having.
You shake it off, opting to stare at Near instead. He grabs the pizza delicately, gray eyes flicking up to stare back at you.
"Is pizza your favorite?" He makes idle conversation. It's unsettling, in a way.
You swallow your bite of pizza, "No, I just... felt like pizza."
He nods, eating the pizza just as delicately as he holds it, "Have you been liking the headquarters? If there is anything you would like, just ask. It's really no problem."
You feel like he's prodding for something, but you don't know what. That's the unsettling about Mello, Matt, and Near, you always feel like you're being analyzed.
"I've been just fine."
"I apologize to take our dinner into work talk, but I did wish to ask you some more questions regarding Beyond Birthday.”
Ah, so you were right. He is prodding for something.
"Okay..."
"When we arrived in the tent at the fair, you and Beyond Birthday must have been inside for several minutes beforehand."
"What makes you assume that?" He's right, but you know better than to fold right away.
Near's eyes slide to the side, as if debating what to tell you. Finally, he gives a reply, "On the day of the mission we placed a tracking device in your sweatshirt. Just in case anything went awry, of course. It's why we were able to get to you so fast. The tracker placed you inside the tent for several minutes before we arrived."
Ah, you should've suspected something like this.
"What did Beyond Birthday say to you?"
You swallow. Now is your chance to come clean about everything. After all, Beyond Birthday is a murderer, there's no doubt about that. There should be no reason for you to take his side. Yet, there is something nagging at the back of your brain.
Why would he want you to get the inheritance?
Perhaps he is merely lying. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary for a murderer to lie. Still, you can't help but feel like Near is hiding something from you.
You'll play Near's game, even if you don't have the handbook. "He said the inheritance isn't money." It's not a lie, but it's not the entire truth.
Near's eyes flash with interest, a small smile perched upon his lips. "So Beyond Birthday knows what the inheritance is?"
You nod, "But he didn't tell me what."
Near leans back, absentmindedly grabbing for a toy robot. He moves it's arm up and down as he ponders this.
"What do you think it is?" You ask him.
Near's eyes snap back to you, "I don't know." He speaks honestly now. "It's something I've wondered about for a long time. Before this, I was about 70 percent sure it was money."
"70 percent?"
"Now I would give around 50 percent for some sort of note or letter, around 20 percent for a piece of property, 15 percent for money, 13 percent for a personal object, and 2 percent for something else."
You're not sure you understand where he's getting these numbers from, but he seems pretty confident.
"You think he left me a note?" Perhaps there will be an explanation for everything. Why you never met him, why you're not a part of this great detective legacy, why this is all crashing down on you now.
"Or a diary, I suppose." Near still fiddles with the toy. "Most likely detailing cases he's worked on.”
"I see."
Near leans forward again, "Now, back to the tent-"
There's a ruckus outside the door. Both you and Near look up to see Matt burst through the door, clearly intoxicated. Mello follows him, looking less intoxicated. Leaning on his shoulder is Halle, who looks more drunk than the two of them combined. She hugs Mello's arm, stroking it with her fingertips.
"We've brought the party to you!" Matt slides in next to you on the couch. He's much touchier when drunk, not afraid to sling his arm around your shoulders.
You glance at Mello. Despite his alcohol flushed cheeks, he doesn't make eye contact with you. He looks at Near.
"What were you doing?" He asks, his words deadly sober.
"We were just having a conversation." Nears says innocently. "She was just telling me how much she likes our athletics room."
A lie.
Mello knows this is a lie. His eyes slide over to you. It's the first time he's looked at you in over a week. Just as he's about to ask you something, Matt chimes in.
"Quit being grumpy, Mello." He teases, mocking a grumpy face. "Come sit."
Mello considers it for a second, then obliges. He moves past you, sitting on your other side so that you're wedged between Matt and Mello. Halle follows after Mello. Near gives her a polite nod as she sits on Mello's left. You watch her hand slide onto his thigh, petting lightly. From then on you opt to stare ahead.
Matt ruffles your hair. It feels demeaning. "Ah man, should've taken you with us, would've been funny."
"What's more funny is how you seem to have returned with no date." You quip back, sticking your chin up.
Halle laughs, "He spent the whole night talking to a girl and she ended up going home with someone else."
Matt shrugs it off, "Night's still young, I could still get myself a lady friend-" He prods your side with his finger. You elbow him away and he smirks, "I promise my bed's cozy-"
"Knock it off, Matt." Mello huffs.
Matt raises his palms defensively, moving away from you. "Since when have you cared what I do?" He leans back, throwing his arms behind his head.
Mello rolls his eyes, "You were being annoying."
"Bah, what a lame party." Matt stands, giving a big stretch. "I'm going to go play video games."
"Oh, is that what you call jerking off?" Halle calls after him as he walks off.
Matt merely puts up a middle finger as he disappears around the corner.
"I suppose I should be retiring as well." Near stands, nodding his head at you before walking off.
Now it's the three of you.
You don't know why, but you don't excuse yourself. You fiddle with your hands as Halle strokes Mello's arm and leg. When she sees you're not getting up, she leans towards Mello, putting her lips against his ear.
"Let's go back to my room."
She pulls away, standing up and waiting for him. He doesn't follow.
Mello looks up at her, his face unreadable. "I've got some more work to do tonight.”
Her face falls for the briefest moment before she hardens back up, pursing her lips tight. "Your loss, maybe I'll go visit Matt." She looks at you and a foreign emotion passes over her face before she turns and walks off.
Now it's just you and Mello. He leans back into the couch and you wonder what he's thinking.
After a beat, you speak up, "Thank you for the dog." You say softly.
He looks over at you.
"The plush dog," you clarify, "...the one from the fair."
He shrugs, "It wasn't that hard to get it."
"I know... but I appreciate it."
There's another pause.
Mello sits up, clearing his throat, "You know, I was thinking about your boxing technique. Your jab's not bad, but your hook could really use some work."
You smile, listening to him gently explain boxing techniques to you. As he goes on, he gets more animated, talking with his hands and looking at you for your nods of approval. For the first time, as you gaze into his icy blue eyes, you catch a subtle hint of green.
"Mello." You interrupt him talking about blocking.
He blinks at you, "huh?”
"I would love to practice boxing with you."
You see him turn a shade redder. He keeps his voice soft, "We can start tomorrow then."
When you finally retire for the night, you feel like you're walking on clouds. Mello disappears into his room with a smile plastered onto his face. As you pass by Matt's room to get to your own, you hear the soft sounds of his video game.
In the morning, you wake up feeling refreshed. You bounce out of bed, getting dressed and heading out the door.
You're looking forward to seeing Mello, particularly for your boxing lesson. When you reach the living room, however, you're greeted with the sight of Matt flopped on the couch, Gameboy in hand.
"Where is everyone else?" You ask.
Matt sighs, "Mello and Near went to investigate another crime scene, took Gevanni with them and told me to stay here and watch you. I said why can't Halle or Rester do it, but apparently they had work to do."
You sit down next to him, watching him play his game. "Another Beyond Birthday murder?"
"Apparently." Matt shrugs. "Didn't know who though, it was a fresh case, just occurred a few hours ago. They left just fifteen minutes ago."
"Oh."
Matt jabs one of the buttons, making his digital car turn sharply around a pixelated building.
"Did they say when they'd be back?" You ask.
"Could be hours, who knows."
As you open your mouth to ask another question, the power goes out. The room you're in has no windows. The only thing that illuminates you both is the Gameboy and, even then, it has only enough light for you to see the dark shadows of Matt's face.
"That... is not supposed to happen." Matt stands, looking around the dark room. "We have two backup generators. If there was an electrical outage, they should kick on automatically."
"Did someone... cut the power?" You ask frightfully.
Matt frowns, "Even if someone cut the power, we have building security." He starts to walk away from you.
"Wait, don't leave!"
"Stay here, I'm just going to get Halle and Rester. I'll be right back." You watch the light of the Gameboy fade away until you're left in complete darkness. You can't even see your hands in front of your face. Still, you feel around, trying to find something that might provide some light.
If you had your phone, this would be much easier. Unfortunately, it's currently sitting on your kitchen countertop in your apartment, left behind when you were first kidnapped.
Sitting in the dark gives you a lot of time to think. It feels like ages since you were first kidnapped and taken to the SPK's hideout. Surprisingly, you've grown quite comfortable with the fact that you're a top level detective's daughter.
When this is all over, will you be able to return to your normal life? You contemplate this. Your office job seems so menial now. When you've had a taste of car chases, gun fights, and genius detectives, can you really return to a boring life?
You'll have to. Eventually, the inheritance will be found, Beyond Birthday will be caught, and Near, Matt, and Mello will have no use for you. You will have to return to your office job, your tiny apartment, your...
Your family. Your real family. The ones who raised you, loved you, and taught you everything you know. Your heart aches for them. You hope they know you're safe.
You're not safe.
You're suddenly grabbed in the darkness, pressed back against a taller body. You feel a cold sharp edge press against your throat.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Yandere, Violence, Mild Gore, Horror, Obsession, Injury, Death
AO3 Link
And here’s the story, enjoy:
“You’re leaving me?”
Wally stands very still, very purposely blocking the exit. His hand involuntarily flexes open and closed, irritated. Why would you leave him? He’s been so careful.
“Wally.” You say in a low tone. “Move aside.”
You never talked like that to him before, what happened? Someone ratted, he’s sure of it.
“It’s Christmas.” He tries to bargain with you, reaching forward to grab your arm. You yank it away as soon as he grazes your skin. “We haven’t even opened presents yet.”
“I want to leave, Wally.” You’re firm, standing your ground.
“Surely you can’t go out in this weather.” He glances outside. “Look at that snow, you’ll freeze before you can even make it to Julie’s.”
You purse your lips, “Are you holding me hostage, Wally?” Your tone is accusatory. He doesn’t like it.
Wally casts his eyes to the ceiling, letting out a deep breath, “Have you been talking to Frank?” He tries to keep his voice even, but he can’t help but let his anger seep through. “Or Poppy? I told you-“
Before he can even see it coming, you’re tossing a frying pan at him. It had been hung on the wall nearby, but he never imagined you’d actually try to harm him. He raises his arm to block the blow to the face and feels you brush past him and dash out the door.
Cussing to himself, Wally follows, his arm throbbing.
Luckily for him, the snow was too deep for you to get too far. On top of that, the fresh snow had covered his carefully placed Christmas lights. They had caught around your foot as you ran and now you were halfway down the steps to the house, strung up by your ankle with the Christmas lights.
He thinks you struggle like an animal in a trap. He delights in the look of terror in your eyes as he approaches.
“My dear, I’ve been nothing but kind to you!” He grabs the end of the Christmas lights, yanking you up slowly by your ankle. You give a yelp of pain. “Now why would you go and throw that away?”
“Julie!” You sputter. “Eddie… Howdy! Please!”
Wally kindly waits for you to finish.
“No one’s going to hear you, dear.”
Then, he gives one final tug of the Christmas lights before hauling you up roughly and throwing you over his shoulder. Your ankle is too bruised and broken for you to walk now, just how he wants it.
He brings you back inside, right where you belong.
“I think it’s time for you to open your present.”
“Let me go, Wally.” You’re a puddle of a person now, your terror has turned into tears and trembling. As much as he loved the blissfully unaware version of you, he can’t help but feel dizzy over his control of you.
He tosses you down onto the couch. You wince as your ankle hits the cushion.
Wally leans in close, “You’re going to listen good, you hear? You belong to be, you’ve always belonged to me. You do as I say.”
You look at him with wide, frightful eyes. You don’t move, so he takes that to mean that you understand his point.
He approaches the Christmas tree. It had been neatly decorated by the two of you. The bulb the two of you had painted together was front and center.
Underneath the tree were a few presents. You had wrapped gifts for all the neighbors, even him. He wonders what you had discovered to make you attempt to flee on Christmas. He had been so careful to not ruin the surprise.
He grabs his first gift to you and sets it in your lap. The bright green wrapping paper sparkles in the light. You hesitate.
“Go ahead, open it.” He insists.
You swallow and with gentle hands rip open the wrapping paper and lift off the lid to the box.
“I had hoped to do this voluntarily, but this is just as fine I suppose.” He hums.
In your hands you hold a little leather collar. You look disgusted.
He takes it from your hands, reaching for neck. You flinch away, but there’s no where for you to go so he fastens the thing to your neck.
In every aspect, Wally wants to own you. That is what it truly represents.
You look miserable with the collar around your neck, but you’ll get used to it. Submission is often suffocating at first.
“I actually have a few more gifts for you.”
“I don’t want anything more from you, psycho.” You spit. His chest whirls with excitement at your sudden bravery. It just makes all this even better. He can’t wait to pound the soul out of you. After all, that’s what he’s been waiting for all this time.
“Trust me, you’ll want to see this.”
He brings out seven very neatly wrapped packages, making a small pile next to the couch. If you had still been blissfully unaware, the surprise would’ve been even greater, but he’s still excited to watch your reaction.
He can tell you’re confused and that just delights him all the more. He runs his fingers over each of the boxes, carefully picking out which one to be first.
“The gift… of a lifetime together.” He says, placing the first gift in your hands. “Nothing left to distract us.”
You look at him skeptically, pulling at the ribbon.
When you open the box, the color drains from your face. In fact, Wally thinks you might vomit. You scream in a way he’s never heard someone scream before, a deep, chested scream that perfectly encapsulates the horror of the moment.
“You understand now, right?” Wally leans in, almost taunting you. “Things are going to be different around here now.”
You shake your head, desperately trying to make sense of the the situation and even more desperately trying to get the box away from you. You shove it off of you.
You sip your tea in the kitchen as the summer sun sets on the horizon, casting golden rays through your window shade. Both you and Wally have just finished a very busy day. First, you helped Sally make paper flowers for her play while Wally, Howdy, and Barnaby constructed walls for the set. Then after that you and Wally met Julie and Poppy for a picnic in the park. Poppy made the most delicious strawberry rhubarb pie. Finally, you got to go on an exclusive butterfly tour with Frank and Eddie. You learned so much about butterflies from Frank. Eddie was just happy to be there.
You page through your book. Julie had lent it to you saying that it's the greatest depiction of romance she's ever read. You had only laughed and agreed to read it.
As you take another sip from your drink, you hear gentle music playing from the living room. It's a soft and comforting beat. You can't help but give a small half-smile to yourself as you stand and make your way over.
Peeking around the corner, you glimpse into the living room. Wally has the record player out, dancing slowly by himself to the music. He snaps his fingers to the rhythm.
"What are you doing?" You giggle at him.
"Who, me?" He pretends as if he's surprised to see you, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. "I was just hoping that maybe someone would show up and dance with me."
You rub at your chin, fake contemplating. "Oh gosh, I think I might have plans."
Wally slides in closer, hand wrapping around your waist as he leans in so that your foreheads touch. "You're going to leave me all by myself?" He pouts.
You laugh, lazily throwing your arms around his neck. "How can I resist that face?"
He gives a playful grin and tugs you so that your body is pressed against his. You can feel the lean muscle and his even breath. "You can't."
One hand finds yours while the other stays firmly planted on your waist. Slowly, you stumble around the living room. Wally isn't exactly the best dancer. You hardly even notice though.
His half lidded dark eyes stare down lovingly into yours, making your chest erupt with butterflies as he rocks you back and forth. You rest your head on his chest, letting him lead. He hums along to the beat.
You shut your eyes. With your ear pressed against him like this, you can hear the steady sound of his heartbeat. He nuzzles his cheek into your hair.
"How'd I get so lucky?" He whispers. You twist your face up so that you're staring up at him. He presses a kiss to your forehead.
Gripping your hand tighter, he takes a step back and spins you. He tugs you in again, this time your back to his chest. Arms hugged around your shoulders, he kisses your ear and then trails his kisses down your neck.
You shy away, "That tickles!"
He hums against your skin and then suddenly you're being lifted. You grasp at him in shock, gripping his shirt. You're being carried bridal style.
Strands of navy hair fall out of his pompadour, falling into his face. His lips brush yours as he speaks, "Would you rather I kiss here?"
You give him his answer by pressing your lips to his. His bottom lip drags against the top of yours, tonguing at your top lip before gentle biting on it. You tilt your head into the kiss, your hand finding the back of his head. You gently pet the hair there.
Wally takes his time easing his tongue into your mouth, making sure to tease you with his taste. When he finally presses inside, he sweeps up your tongue and plays with the sensitive roof of your mouth.
When you finally pull away for air, you're both breathing heavy, the tension in the room hot and heavy. Wally carries you over to the couch, gently setting you down before climbing on top of you.
Arms pressed heavy into the cushions on either side of you, Wally stares down at you. You touch his abdomen, feeling at the muscle as you make your way up to his chest. He lets you touch him in any way that you please.
"Hey," He says, his voice ever so quiet and gentle.
Content Warning: Psychological Horror, Scopophobia, Religion and Religious Symbolism, Christianity, Demons
"Our father, who art in heaven-"
Hands clasped tightly together, you pray alone in front of the alter. It's far too late for anyone else to be here, but that is somehow more comforting in a time like this.
"-hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven-"
You stare up at the large pillars of the church, the tall sharp architecture and the stained glass windows. If it were day, the windows would show the stations of the cross, going through the entirety of the crucifixion. Now though, they're only dark and hollow, the reflection of the candle's light on the surface mimicking eyes.
"Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses-"
Are you speaking to no one? Will no one answer your prayers?
"-as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation-"
You feel a warm hand curl around your shoulder. They recite the last line of the prayer in unison with you.
"-but deliver us from evil."
You whip your head around only to see Father Wally Darling smiling down at you. You're used to seeing him in his mass attire, but now he wears more casual clothes. The only indication that he's a reverend is the small cross he adorns around his neck.
"Father-"
"Why are you here so late, my child?" He asks, tilting his head. His eyes are soft and kind, just as you always remember them.
"I-" You look at the floor, then back to the alter. "Father... have you ever performed an exorcism?"
He freezes, then chooses his words carefully. "Why would you be getting mixed up in such dark things?"
"I fear there is a demon following me." You tell him, standing from your kneeling position. "Or some dark energy, in the least."
Wally runs a hand over his chin, his eyes trained to the floor. "These things don't just appear. Did you-" His eyes flick up. "-invite them in somehow?"
"I swear, I have been faithful to you and our church." You bow your head. "But lately I feel as if I've been watched. Even now, I can feel the eyes boring into me." You glance around the dim chapel. The statues, the paintings, even the knots in the floorboards are eyes staring into your soul.
"Of course you have been loyal to me, my child." He grips your chin, moving your head so that you're staring into his eyes. "The only pair of eyes you have to worry about here are mine. This place is safe."
You grasp nervously at your hands, continuing to stare helplessly up at him. "Father, what am I to do?"
He lets go of your chin, running a hand through his hair. "We won't perform a exorcism, that is only for the most extreme of cases. We shall have a baptism of sorts."
"But I am already baptized." You tell him, confusion written all over your face.
"Of sorts, I said." Wally leads you up the steps to the alter. "It's bit different."
You let him take the lead, following his instructions as you set up the equipment. You've never heard of another type of baptism, but you trust that a reverend knows more about this than you do.
Once everything is set up, he motions with his hands, "Kneel before me, child."
You fall to your knees. It feels like worship.
He dips his hand into the water, bringing it to your face. You had watched him bless the water just moments earlier. He presses his thumb against your forehead, drawing some sort of shape. It doesn't feel like a cross.
"You've always been quite the dedicated follower." He whispers quietly, wet hand moving to now cup your cheek.
"Yes, father." You agree, unsure of where he is going with this.
"I wish to have you." He says, voice low. "What do you wish for in return?"
You blink up at him, "Have me?"
"Semantics." He brushes it off. "I merely mean to have you in the sense of a loyal worshipper of the church."
"Oh, okay." You pause. "I wish..."
What do you wish for?
"I wish to be safe."
"Oh, I would never let anything hurt you." He assures. Still, he extends his hand. "I wish to have you. You wish to be safe."
You're not quite sure what he expects from you, but you take his hand. He gives a large smile, holding your hand tight. "Thank you, my dear."
There's a gush of wind and the candles go out in the church, leaving you in darkness.
The eyes.
The only thing that is luminescent in the darkness are Wally's eyes. They glow, staring down at you. You yank away your hand, scrambling backwards as more eyes appear in the blackness. You have to escape.
You have the church layout memorized and move easily through the pews. The eyes appear everywhere, lighting your way. When you reach the door, you find that it's locked. You bang against it.
The window. Your hands scramble to find anything heavy. A small Jesus statue sits upon a table.
Sorry Jesus.
Taking the statue, you heave it against the window. Despite the statue's weight, the window doesn't shatter. It only stares down at you.
"Is this any way to act?" It's Wally's voice, but it's more distorted now. "I promised you that you would have your safety, didn’t I?"
"I didn't agree to this!" You protest, chest heaving. You feel cornered, the eyes are in every direction now.
"Oh, but you did." He laughs. "That's how it works, you shook my hand and made a wish. I'm keeping up my end of the deal."
Something grabs onto your ankle. You try to kick it off but it yanks you, making you fall to the floor.
"It's time to keep your end. Don't worry, I take good care of my playthings"
You're dragged further into the church, kicking and screaming.
Content warnings: yandere, extreme violence, graphic gore, major character death, psychological horror, stalking, manipulation
Wally loves visiting you.
He tries to as often as possible, disguising it as just another neighborly check-in. He hopes you never find out that he doesn't check on the others nearly as much he comes to check on you.
When he feels like he's checked in on you too often, he hovers outside your house, watching from the bushes to get a glimpse at what you're doing. After all, you're his best friend! He absolutely must know what you're up to!
No, you're so much more than his best friend.
You're his.
He always makes sure to bring you some sort of treat. The way you light up when he holds out a slice a pie or a piece of candy makes his chest flutter with excitement. Yes. Only he can make you feel this way. It doesn't matter that you entertain the other neighbors, he knows that secretly you only like him.
With a swift knock on your door, he waits for you to answer. The special gift he's brought today is a box of chocolate truffles he made himself.
Well, with Home's help of course.
You're always finished with dinner by this time, he knows this from watching your routine. He thinks this is the perfect time to bring you a little dessert. Usually you're curled up on your couch watching TV by now.
The thought of you watching his show makes him puff out his chest in pride. Of course you watch it, you love him just as much as he loves you.
You don't answer the door right away, which makes him worry. Has something bad happened to you?
He waits patiently for another minute. He wouldn't wait for just anyone, so he hopes you know how special you really are to him. He knocks again, harder this time. It's not very neighborly of him, but he can't help it when it comes to you.
Where are you?
He leans his head to peak through your living room window. It's dark and the TV isn't on. With careful eyes he scans the rest of your windows. There seems to be no lights on at all in the house.
"Oh, Wally, hey!"
He turns to see you coming up your driveway, Howdy Pillar in tow. Twinges of jealousy plague his chest, but he keeps his composure. He hates that you have your arm linked with Howdy's.
"Hi, neighbor!" He grins, glaring at Howdy. Howdy notices and slowly unlinks your arms.
"We just went out for dinner." You tell Wally, eyes scrunching up in a smile. He instantly forgives you for all the attention you're giving Howdy, he knows you don't mean anything by it. You're just a friendly neighbor, it's what he loves about you.
"That's wonderful." His eyes soften as he looks at you. You're so excited to tell him. "That means that you probably should be going then." He looks at Howdy. "Right, Howdy."
"Um, yes, I'd better be off." Howdy tilts his hat, quickly scampering off.
"Oh." You turn to watch him go. "Well, bye, Howdy."
"Bye, Howdy!" Wally waves with a large smile. Howdy doesn't turn to wave back.
Good. Maybe Howdy's learned to keep away from his property.
"I brought you a little something." He holds out his handmade treats for you, which you delight in.
"These are so nice, Wally!" You gush. He can practically feel his heartbeat in his ears just from your kind words. "Why don't you come in?"
There's the ticket. He loves when you invite him in. Maybe it's because his Home is so personal to him, but it feels special when you let him inside.
You set the chocolates on the coffee table and gesture for him to sit down as you go to make drinks for you both, you're just neighborly in that way. When you slip into the kitchen, he takes the time to poke through your stuff.
You have books scattered all over. He expects as much from you.
Painting supplies.
Aw, are you trying to be like him? He admires the effort.
On a shelf is a bouquet of flowers. He knows it's from Julie and it once again sets him aflame.
Soon you'll understand why he hates having all these people poking around your life, tainting you with their dirty touches. All he wants is to protect you, keep you away from all these psychos. He delights at the idea of getting to punish you for all the attention you've been receiving as of late.
He can hear you heading back to the living room, so he scrambles to sit politely on the couch. You come in holding two mugs, graciously handing him one before taking a seat on the other end of the sofa and sipping your own drink.
You hold the mug so delicately it drives him wild. Still, he's well mannered, taking a drink from his mug.
"What did you do at your dinner?" He can't help but pry for information.
"Oh, it wasn't anything special, we just had Italian." You tell him. "It was really good though!"
Surely it wouldn't have been as good as having dinner with him. He could've cooked it himself, he knows you would've enjoyed that. You appreciate effort.
You continue on, "Howdy is so nice, he invited me to go see Sally's play next week!"
Wally can feel his eye twitch. You just don't understand the things you do to him, why you can't just be running around town with all these people.
"I suppose I'll have to come along as well." He smiles, mug pressed against his lips.
It's then that he notices it. On the table, a polaroid photo of you and Howdy, both smiling wide for the photo, arms wrapping around each other.
It drives him mad. How can he call this naïveté if you're practically flaunting it about?
He's decided it. He needs to take care of Howdy. For your sake, really, you just don't understand how dangerous some people are. Only he can protect you.
He grins as he listens to you ramble on with your story, thinking hard about his next move.
Soon you'll love him the same way he loves you.
_____
Wally curses quietly to himself as blood gets on the white soles of his shoes. Stupid Howdy, even in death finding ways to inconvenience him.
Whatever, it isn't as if he hasn't gotten his hands a little dirty before. Plus, this cause is certainly worth the effort. Hoisting Howdy up by his armpits, Wally drags the man towards the noose he laid out nicely. Sally had taught him well in the art of staging a scene.
With quick hands, he is able to loop the rope around Howdy's neck and pull the corpse up towards the ceiling, tying the extra bit of rope to the leg of the sofa.
All taken care of.
Of course, he is sad to lose a neighbor. Wally does care about his friends, but they should know better than to touch his stuff. Good friends respect each others' property.
So, Wally leaves Howdy to rot. Secretly, he hopes that you find the body. The trauma and horror of finding someone like that would be sure to make you run to his arms for comfort. Oh, and he would be so good at comfort too, letting you cry your eyes out while you sit in his lap. You'd look so pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks.
Unfortunately, you don't find the body, Julie Joyful does.
Not so joyful now.
Still, you're upset, which is all he could've asked for really.
He shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers, which were only chosen to replace the ones he saw the last time he was at your house. His are so much better anyway. He gives a jolly knock on your door, glancing through the window to watch you make your way over.
"Hi Wally." Your eyes are red from crying. "Thank you for coming over."
"Of course." He steps into your house, handing over his gift. "Are you alright?"
You gingerly take the flowers, rubbing at your eyes. "I'm okay, really."
"Why don't we sit." His fingers ghost along your back as he leads you to the couch. You let yourself be guided by him, which he delights in. See? You follow his directions so nicely, how can he not like you?
You set the flowers onto the coffee table, which has gotten cluttered. He supposes that you haven't done much cleaning since the incident. You slump back onto the couch, eyes distant.
"I just never thought that he would be the kind of person..." Your lip wobbles as you speak, eyes trained on the floor.
"It's alright." He says, scooting closer to you. "I promise, things will be okay in the end."
"Yes, I know they will be." You nod, tears threatening to spill at any minute. "I just can't believe he's gone."
"I'm always there for you, you know." He replies, hand stroking your back.
"I know, Wally."
"I don't think you do." He knows his eyes are wild and tries to tame their intensity as to not scare you. Grasping at your chin, he tugs it up so that that he can stare into your flooded eyes. "I'm always there for you. More than anyone else ever could."
Confusion clouds your gaze, along with another emotion he can't quite detect.
"You're not my only friend, Wally."
This one cuts him deep. No, he isn't your only friend, but he should be. You're his, why don't you understand that?
"Of course not." He puts on a warm smile. "You have Julie, Sally, Eddie, all the others."
"Yes." You agree, but you're quiet.
"For now, at least." He adds.
You grow quiet and he knows he messed up, but he just can't help it. He knows that he should take his time with you, yet it's so difficult to watch you subconsciously resist his efforts. Being slow takes forever, he wants it now.
You cough, "Um, I'm actually getting tired." He internally curses himself for upsetting you.
"Oh, of course." He stands. "I'm sure you've had a long day."
"Yeah, I have." You nod, standing as well.
He tugs you into a hug, feeling you stiffen against his body as he lets it linger for a second. You're so soft to the touch, so fragile. You'll forgive him for his little misspeak, you're too kind of a person to hold any grudges, especially against him. He doesn't want to let go from the hug, but when he does, you give him a gentle smile.
Yes, everything is all right. Especially when you give him that soft, doe-like look.
When he leaves, he doesn't actually leave. He lingers in the bushes, desperate to watch you.
You pace around the house, hands clenched in your hair as you cry. He wishes he was there, he really does, so that he can wipe your tears. You're choosing to battle this all by yourself when what you really need is him.
Soon. He promises himself. He can't rush things. That's where his problems arise. He needs to get himself in check.
You pause, worrying at your lip as you stare at something on the coffee table. He wonders what you're looking at until you grasp it in your hands.
His flowers!
He knew you'd love them! His stomach flutters as you carry them to your kitchen. He repositions himself so that he can now see through the kitchen window.
You open a lower cabinet and he gives a light smile. Were the flowers special enough to get a vase?
No.
Wally watches in horror as you dump the flowers into the trash and sob harder as you shut the cabinet once more.
Why?
Rage bubbles in his chest as his vision goes white. They had already tainted you. The neighbors... they were pitting you against him! You, in all your sweet obliviousness, had fallen trap to one of the others.
No... he knew who.
Julie.
Of course it was her, he should've suspected it from the moment he saw the flowers she had left you. She also discovered Howdy! Surely this is a dastardly plot to tear you away from him!
Not to worry. He thinks to himself. He'll save you.
He continues watching your windows even well after you're asleep, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he's in your dreams.
He'll always save you.
_____
As chill as Wally likes to pretend to be, he must admit that you drive him to insane levels of effort. Even as he hacks into Julie's body with the axe, he has hearts in his eyes thinking of you.
To the misfortune of Sally Starlet, she had been visiting when Wally decided to pay dear Julie a visit. It wasn't a hard decision to take her out too, Wally was sure that she was in on the devious plot to keep you away from him.
The pieces aren't small enough yet. Heaving it above his head, Wally brings down the axe with a careful swing. No one is ever going to find their bodies, this much he is sure of. The last death only pulled you apart from him, so his plan this time is to make you think that the two ghosted you.
He sighs to himself. Why couldn't the others understand to just stay away from you? It would prevent so much unnecessary bloodshed. He loves his neighbors.
Whatever. Their funeral.
By the time he's finished chopping the bodies, it's dark out. He doesn't need to go out, though, he knows where they will never be found.
"I have a treat for you." He's giddy as he drags the trash bags full of body parts to Home's core. In the dark room he can sense Home is watching him, but doesn't mind, not when he's in such a good mood. He tosses the bags and dusts off his hands, satisfied with his work.
As he heads back upstairs, he runs a hand through his hair, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to visit you or if it's too late in the night. It is rather late, you're probably getting ready for bed soon.
Just as he makes up his mind, the doorbell rings. He's surprised by the visitor and quickly checks himself in the mirror to make sure there's no blood on his face.
Tugging the door open, he's greeted with the sight of you bundled up in your warm clothes, eyebrows scrunched together as you stare up at him with wide eyes.
"Hello, neighbor." He beams. "I didn't expect anyone this late."
"I know, I'm sorry." You fuss, but he quickly cuts you off.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way." He smooths, enjoying how you relax your shoulders from his reassurance. "You know you're welcome any time, come in."
You step inside Home, shedding your jacket and hanging it up. He hopes you forget it so that he can clasp it in his arms tonight and fall asleep to your scent.
"Here, we can sit at the table."
Normally, he would invite you into the rest of Home, but he hadn't gotten the chance to clean up after his little... event.
"So, what's the matter?" As you sit down he interlocks his fingers, resting his chin on them.
"Julie..." You take deep breaths as you explain. "I haven't heard from her all day and we said we had plans, then Frank said he heard screaming... I just don't know what's happening."
Damn Frank had to make you think something is wrong. Not to worry though, he's an expert at spinning tales.
"Screaming?" Wally laughs. "No, Sally made up a new play! It's very dramatic, Frank's just being a worrywart again."
"But what about Julie?"
"Well..." He raises his brows. "Her and Sally were both definitely hanging out and performing that play... perhaps they simply forgot to invite you." He keeps his tone light, hoping you understand the implications of his words.
"They wouldn't forget about me." You frown, eyes falling to the floor.
"Then I suppose it was purposeful." He's more blunt with his words now, desperate to drive the point home. "Maybe they wanted to surprise you?"
You tap your foot worriedly, not replying to him. He understands it must be hard to lose your friends, he really does, after all, he's been losing these friends too! But it's for the best, besides, they aren't real friends anyway. If they were, they wouldn't be trying to take you away from him!
"Then, where are they now?" You finally speak up, voice bolder and eyes focused. "They weren't at Julie's house... or Sally's. Clearly they weren't at Frank's house... then where are they, Wally?”
He doesn't like the accusing tone you give him. He wants to punish it out of you right then and there, but holds back. Before he gets a chance to respond, Home answers for him.
A door opens in another part of Home, loud and creaking. You lift your head.
"Is someone else here?"
"No." He interjects immediately, not appreciating Home's contribution to the conversation. "Why would there be anyone else? It's just you and me."
"But-"
Floorboards bend to sound like heavy footsteps echoing through his walls. They wind through the rooms, catching your interest.
"Home-" He says in a low warning voice.
"There's definitely someone here!" You stand, wanting to move but he quickly grabs your wrist.
"There's not anyone here, I promise." He begs. "Let's just stay and sit in the kitchen."
You try to shake off his grip, but he holds on. "Let me go!" You demand. "Are they here? Is Julie here? Sally?"
"Sit Down." He's never spoken to you in such a way before, his voice commanding and scary through gritted teeth. He sees you pause in fear and feels your trembling through his grip on your wrist. He's sure this is terrifying to you, but you didn't listen to him.
You slowly obey, lowing yourself carefully onto the seat. It's only then that he dares to let go of your wrist.
"See, isn't this better?" He asks sweetly.
You instantly dash, running towards the living room. He doesn't have the reaction time to stop you, but quickly follows in hot pursuit.
"Julie!" You scream as you run. "Sally!"
Home gives you encouragement in the form of creaks and groans, leading you exactly where he doesn't want you to go.
As you enter the room, you freeze, horror flooding your features.
He really didn't want you to see this side of him.
The bloody room before you contains the scattered pieces of Sally and Julie, hunks of their flesh wedged between the floorboards and splattered on the walls. It's truly a sight to behold.
You take a step back, making a soft squeaking noise as you're unable to form words.
Wally steps behind you, pressing the front of his body to the back of yours and his hands grip around your waist. He nuzzles close to your ear, eyes trained on the gore before him. You're in so much shock that you don't even resist him.
"I guess it was about time you find out how much I truly love you." He breathes into your ear.
You open your mouth, trying to say something, but only stutter out a string of nonsense. Your trembling body against his own drives him wild, fear suits you so well. Heavy tears drip down your face, but he only hugs you tighter.
"Now we can truly begin."
The creaking and groaning of floorboards tells him that Home agrees.
_____
He's never been happier.
You're his. Truly his and his alone now.
He lays on the floor, giddy as he stares up at your beautiful form sitting in his lap, arms tied carefully behind your back. He really does mean careful, he wouldn't want to hurt you.
He can't help but tease you, tilting his hips to see the fear flash through your eyes as you attempt to maintain balance. Not to worry, his hands are always there to catch you.
Always.
Tears fall down your face, dripping and making a mess of his jacket. He thinks that the tears really bring out the color of your eyes.
You stare at him, bottom lip wobbling. "W-Wally, please-"
God, he is practically in ecstasy just from you saying his name. He had almost begun to think that you'd never belong to him. He has gotten rid of everyone in his way. Now the wait is over.
He sits up, face pressing close to yours as he sneaks his hand under the hem of your shirt, thumbing over the bare skin of your hip. He notices the faint shutter of pleasure that tingles down your spine, despite you trying to hide it. He nuzzles against your cheek, simultaneously wiping away your tears.
"There's no need to worry." He says nonchalantly, attempting to comfort you. "I wouldn't ever hurt you."
Well, not unless you deserve it.
But you don't need to know that, especially not when he's trying to get you used to your new environment.
His hands roam your waist, greedily taking in every bit of you. He's never truly known the word euphoria until now, his mind endlessly playing the same word over and over.
Mine.
"Wally, I won't tell anyone... I promise... I promise."
More tears drip onto his jacket. He loves how you stumble over your words. It's so cute.
"Please, just let me go-"
He throws his head back, grinning stupidly at the ceiling as he basks in your naïveté.
"You don't seem to understand." He looks back at your confused face. "It's always been about you. All of this."
Your eyes search his face like you're looking for answers. He chuckles. You still don't get it.
"You love me." His eyes go crazy, grin on his face only widening. "And I love you. Don't you see? We can be together now."
Your mouth drops open slightly, round eyes no longer searching as your head drops down and eyebrows scrunch up.
Good. You've realized his love!
His fingertips brush along your arm, lingering on the sturdy rope before continuing down to give you goosebumps. You shiver, shoulders shaking slightly before returning to their slump position.
"I think-"
The familiar sound of the doorbell alerts him, but without the usual flutter in his stomach that it might be you. Who could possibly be bothering him right now when he's so busy?
Wally glances at the time. He supposes it is morning, perhaps it's just Eddie delivering the mail. Hopefully it'll be easy to shoo him away so he can get back to the important things.
"I'll be right back, promise." He presses a kiss to your cheek, which you shy away from. It doesn't stop him though. With that, he lays you on the bed, giving another pat to the ropes tying your arms before heading downstairs.
Unfortunately, it isn't Eddie at the door.
"Where is everyone?" Frank demands, frown as prominent as ever on his face.
Ugh. At least Eddie is enough of a bumbling idiot that Wally can out talk him. Frank is much harder to placate.
"What do you mean?" Wally blinks innocently.
"Don't play dumb with me." Frank points an accusing finger at him. "Something happened yesterday."
"Listen," Wally steps out of the house, gently shutting the door behind him to lean close to Frank. "Frank, whatever you thought you heard last night... you were mistaken. There was no noise, you were just imaging things... Do I make myself clear?"
Wally leans back enough to catch Frank's eyes. He's calm, but Wally can tell there is a glint of fear there.
"Yes..." Frank coughs, stepping back. "I suppose you're right."
Wally gives a friendly smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Go home, Frank. Enjoy time with Eddie."
Frank swallows, giving a nod before turning and leaving. Wally watches with satisfaction before slipping back into his house.
He heads back upstairs, eager to get back to you. He's sure that you've been desperately waiting for him too, but when he reaches the bedroom, he finds it empty.
Where are you?
He's immediately thrown into a fit of panic.
"Where is she?" He shouts at Home. Why was he not warned of this?
Home is suspiciously quiet.
Nervousness pools in his chest. Home is up to something.
"What are you doing?" He demands, searching through rooms. He scrambles through, desperate to find you.
It's only when he hears you scream that he realizes where you are.
Home's core. Of course, he should've predicted this. The sneaky bastard was luring you in.
He sprints down the stairs and down the winding hallways. The further he goes, the less windows and sunlight there is, but he's used to it by now. Home's maze-like interior is quite predictable if you know how to navigate it.
He finally reaches the core, chest heaving from his run.
Floorboards chatter and pipes bang throughout the room. You're propped in the corner, terrified, arms still uselessly tied around your back.
"She is NOT food." He scolds, hands clenched into fists as he moves to grab you.
You're distraught... and oh so happy to see him! He's half thankful for Home's intervention, not that he'd show it.
"Why would you come here?" He reprimands you as well, yanking you up by your arm and dragging you out of the dim room. You stumble and struggle to keep up with him.
"The rooms..." Your bottom lip is pouting again, it's delightfully cute. "They kept changing..."
He hums. So Home did lead you down there.
There are other clanks and creaks throughout the house, but he ignores them. Home is throwing a fit.
"You don't go down there." He says. "Ever."
You simply nod your head.
It's only then that he relaxes, letting himself enjoy the soft feel of your skin as he leads you towards the bedroom again. As you both pass by the front door, he notices an important detail.
Did he leave the door open?
Sure, it's only open a tiny crack, but surely he didn't forget it?
He goes to investigate.
Before he reaches the door though, he's met with a surprise baseball bat. Frank swings high, managing to strike Wally smack in the face, sending him toppling backwards.
"Quick, let's go!" Frank yells.
Wally groans, feeling the blood gush from his face as stars cloud his vision. He can hear the sound of your hurried footsteps, but they just sound so far away. His face pulses and swells, but he still manages to pull himself up to his feet.
It takes him a moment to reorient himself. He blinks a couple times, vision coming back enough to see you and Frank slip out the door.
No.
His hands fumble to the countertop, quickly finding his knife block. He grabs the first knife his fingers find, which happens to be his boning knife.
Catching up to you both isn't that hard, especially with Frank slowing to help you along. Who knew that swinging your arms is such an important part of running?
"Frank!" You yell, but Wally is too quick. He grabs Frank by the hair, dragging him away from you. Frank yells, struggling against his grip. You try to follow, only to trip and land heavy on your chest, occupied arms unable to break the fall. The wind is knocked out of you.
Wally drags him to the ground, hand with the knife practically twitching in anticipation. Frank kicks and throws punches, even as Wally climbs on top of him.
"You keep getting in my way!" Wally shouts. He draws the knife closer, but Frank grabs his wrist. Gravity is on his side though and he inches closer and closer with each passing second.
"You're... crazy!" Frank yells back, pressing upwards with all his might.
"Wally!" You pipe up as well. "Please... stop! For me... because..."
He laughs. He is doing this for you!
"...because I love you!"
Now this makes him pause, heart skipping a beat at the sound of your lovely voice telling him everything he's ever wanted to hear. He loves you too. So much.
Frank takes this opportunity to disarm him though, knife flying in the air and landing in a nearby patch of grass. Too far.
You love him. It's why he must do this.
Wally squares up his shoulders, hands clenching into fists as he throws a punch at Frank's face. Frank's head jerks back against the ground, banging off of it as Wally throws another and another.
Your anguished cry only makes him go harder, even after Frank is knocked unconscious, eyes rolling back in his head as blood drips from every orifice of his face.
For you.
He's only satisfied with his work when Frank's face is left as an unrecognizable lump of flesh and blood. He climbs off, wiping bloodied hands on his shirt. Home will be satisfied. Very satisfied. It seems he has much more work to do. Better to finish off the whole town, only then can the two of you be happy.
He walks over to where you lay. Hands on his hips, he tuts down at you. You've been very naughty.
"What am I to do with you?" He smiles, leaning down slightly to get a good look at you.
"Fuck off."
He laughs, but his eyes are dark as he grabs at your chin, forcing you to stare up at his face. "You might want to be careful what you say to me from now on."
He pulls you up, not caring how rough he is with you this time as he brings you back Home. Even when you stumble and fall, he continues to drag, hearing your cries of pain as your knees scrape on the ground as you try to get back up.
When you're inside, he tosses you on the ground.
He loves you. That's why you need to learn.
Your screams of agony ripple through Home, echoing the endless hallways. Wally's even sure that they can be heard down the street. Let all the other neighbors come investigate the noise, he doesn't care. All will be taken care of. You will be his. This pain may be temporary, but these lessons will last a lifetime.
Content warning: Body horror, psychological horror, scopophobia, violence
AO3 LINK
"This'll be so much fun!" Wally grins at you as you step into Home, duffel bag in tow. While yes, you are excited, you also are nervous.
"This is going to be the best sleepover!" Julie chimes in.
The gang truly is all here, you're the last one to arrive, and the sleepover is in full tilt. Julie sits crossed legged painting Sally's nails, Poppy is dressed to nines in her rainbow pajamas while Howdy wears more conservative plaid pajamas, Eddie eagerly listens to Frank talk about a butterfly book he recently read, and Wally, ever the pleasant host, leads you around the party.
That's not to forget Barnaby, who is already passed out in the corner.
The nervous pit in your stomach continues to gnaw at you, even as Julie tugs you in to get your nails painted. You've never spent the night at Wally's house before, it's certainly a new experience.
"What color do you want?" Julie asks, pulling out a bag chalk full of nail polish. "I brought my whole collection!" You admire the red color of her own nails while Sally also shows off her bright orange ones.
"Umm..." You're rather indecisive, plus there are so many colors to choose from.
"I just ran out of black though, Frank likes to use it." Julie adds.
"What other color am I supposed to paint my nails?" Frank scoffs, throwing a hand up. Eddie giggles along.
"I think you'd look nice with yellow polish." Poppy says to Frank.
"Oh, yes!" Eddie practically jumps at the thought. "Do yellow, Frank!" Frank merely rolls his eyes, a blush darkening his cheeks.
"I think this blue would look nice on you." Wally nudges you, noticing your indecision. You grasp the color he pointed out, staring down at it. It's a beautiful midnight blue, he truly did pick out a suiting color. You shouldn't be surprised though, painters do have a good eye for that.
Julie grabs the polish from you, "Perfect!" You stick out your hands for her as she leans down to get to work.
You all continue to idly chatter as Julie finishes up your nails.
"And done!" She beams. You admire the careful work she's done.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Howdy digs through his bag. "I brought some snacks!"
He tosses out candy bars and other treats. You can't exactly eat with your nails still wet, so you watch as the others dig in and blow on your nails.
"Should we wake up Barnaby?" Poppy frets. "He would be sorely disappointed if he missed out."
"Let me wake the big oaf." Wally gives a wink, sauntering over to the sleeping Barnaby. Leaning down, he shake's Barnaby's arm.
Nothing happens.
"Barnaby!" Wally shakes him harder. "Wake up!"
Howdy sighs, "I guess he doesn't want treats-"
"Did someone say treats!" In an instant, Barnaby is up, tail wagging. Everyone laughs.
"I should've known." Wally rolls his eyes with a grin as Barnaby races to get food. He turns to his seat near you.
As Barnaby quickly chomps down his food, Julie fiddles more with her nail polish.
"Wally, we should paint your nails!" Julie suddenly shouts.
Wally merely laughs, "I'm an artist, but I don't think that's really for me."
"Oh, come on!" Sally tries to convince him. "We can also get Eddie and Barnaby in on it too!"
"I feel like I'm already colorful enough." Barnaby says between bites.
"Oh Barnaby, but don't you want more colors?" Julie clasps her hands together. "This is perfect! I can do Eddie's nails and Sally can do Barnaby's nails!"
"Then... I can paint your nails for you, Wally." You say quietly, looking up at him. "If you want, of course."
He looks at you for a second, pausing before quickly nodding. "Yeah, you can paint my nails."
As Julie sets up to paint Eddie's nails a deep pink and Sally goes to Barnaby with a bright purple, Wally kneels in front of you, holding his hands out.
"Umm..." You look at the bag of nail polish. "What color do you want?"
"Why don't we match?" He smiles, nodding his head towards the midnight blue.
"Okay!" You feel your heart flutter in excitement as you grip the polish, dipping the brush in and smearing the paint onto his first nail. You're not very good and hope he doesn't mind.
As the others chat, Wally leans down to your ear to whisper, "Do you like the color I picked out for you?"
You can't help but blush as you feel his breath on your ear. "Yes!" You say a little too quickly. "I mean... it's really nice!"
He smiles, "I'm glad."
As you work, you chew on your lip, trying to make sure your strokes are even. You nudge closer, trying to get a closer look, but instead end up spilling the nail polish all over Wally.
"Oh I'm so sorry!" You gasp, grabbing at the bottle of polish.
He doesn't seem phased, but you still feel bad. "It's really okay."
"Here, let me go get something to clean you off." You stand. "Where are your washcloths?"
"In the bathroom down the hall." He gestures. You hurry down the hall.
Throwing open cabinets, you search through, trying to get back before the nail polish completely ruins his nice clothing. You know how much time Wally puts in to look nice, you'd hate to destroy one of his favorite jackets. As you search, you hear an odd creaking noise.
At first, you think it's just one of the others that came to help to search, but it quickly becomes apparent that no one is there.
You turn your head, eyebrow up as the noise lingers outside the door.
"Hello?"
You stand, listening to the pacing and squeaking of floorboards. Upon peaking outside the door though, you only find an empty hallway.
The noise stops.
Shaking your head, you turn back, finding the washcloth and quickly heading back down to everyone else.
Wally has taken his jacket off and Julie has the nail polish remover ready as you hand them the washcloth.
"Won't that damage it?" Frank asks as Julie pours the remover onto the jacket.
Julie shrugs, "Beats me!"
"Oh, brother." Wally laughs.
"I really am sorry, Wally!" You fret, watching as Julie haphazardly dabs at the stain.
"Don't worry about it." Wally leans back on his arms. "It's just a jacket, not the end of the world."
"I think we should let it soak." Julie decides, setting down the jacket. You glance over at Wally, who seems unphased by this. You hope his jacket turns out okay, maybe you'll buy him a new one if it doesn't turn out.
"What're we doing next?" Barnaby asks, waving his hands in an attempt to dry his nails faster.
Sally gives a sudden burst of energy, "OH! Let's play a game!"
"What kind of game?" Poppy tilts her head.
With a mischievous grin, Sally points her finger. "Truth or Dare!" She crosses his arms. "Here! I can go first! Poppy, ask me one!"
"Truth or-“
"Dare!" Sally doesn't even let Poppy finish her sentence.
Poppy thinks on this for a second, mulling over her options. "I dare you to... make up a dance!"
Sally laughs, "That's easy!" She quickly swivels her hips, lifting up a leg to an usual dance that is oddly reminiscent of Elvis' dance moves. Her shoulders go into the movement too as she hums a song to the beat of her dance.
When she's done, she takes a bow, which makes everyone clap.
"Wow! That looked rehearsed!" Howdy compliments.
"Thank you, thank you!" Sally takes another bow. "Now, however, it's my turn! Howdy, Truth or Dare!"
"Me?" He blinks. "I suppose truth."
"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"
Howdy hum's and haw's for a second, thinking it over. "Well... one time at the market, I was helping someone find their item... and then kept asking for apple floss! I was so confused... I told them that I don't think we carry flavored floss, but they kept insisting that we had this apple floss." He shakes his head. "It wasn't until they left that I realized that they were saying applesauce!" You laugh along with everyone else.
"Wait a second," Wally scratches his head. "Is applesauce made of-"
"Oh brother it's the pie thing again." Frank sighs.
"Applesauce is made of apples, Wally." Poppy explains politely.
Wally tilts his head, "But-"
"We're not getting into this again!" Sally interjects. "Ask away, Howdy!"
"Julie, Truth or Dare?"
Julie flips her hair, giving a smile. "Truth."
"What's your favorite color?"
Sally sighs, "You're doing this wrong!"
Julie pauses, eyes going wide. "Well... How can I just pick one color! I know I love red and pink, but what about green and blue and oh! I almost forgot about purple! Then we also need to talk about shades, do I like pastel or neon? There's just too many options."
"Wow, I didn't realize how big of a decision it really is." Barnaby seems to contemplate all this.
"It is!" Julie agrees. "You can't just have one favorite color."
"Black." Frank says. "Look? See how easy that was?"
"A dull black or a bright black?" Julie asks. "Is it more grayish? Blueish?"
Frank sighs.
Julie shakes her head. "See? You really can't come to a conclusion. Anyway, Eddie! Truth or Dare?"
"Uhhh...." He looks lost. Eventually Frank nudges him, trying to get him to just answer. "Dare, I guess."
"I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room." Julie says, a sly smirk upon her lips.
Eddie gives a big dumb smile. Without hesitation, he leans over and plants a gentle kiss onto Frank's lips. It's barely a peck, but it's enough to leave Frank red with embarrassment.
"Wally, Truth or Dare?" Eddie asks, grin still plastered to his face.
"Truth, please." Wally interlocks his fingers, waiting for his question.
"Who's your favorite?"
Wally is silent, half lidded eyes glancing at you before sighing and shaking his head. "None of you! I love all of my friends equally, of course!"
Barnaby laughs, "What a Wally answer."
"Well, I'm Wally, so it makes sense." He shrugs, looking over to you. "Truth or Dare?"
"Truth." You say, sitting up straighter.
"What are you afraid of?"
His eyes seem to pierce into your soul as he leans forward, watching for your reaction. A chill follows down your spine, but you're not really sure why. After all, it's a harmless question, right?
"I don't really like the dark." You explain, trying to think. "Oh, there's also the feeling of being watched. I get that a lot when I'm alone, but I don't really like it."
"Oh, I get that too!" Julie says.
"Me too." Frank adds. Some of the others nod. Wally, however, seems to just watch you with a smile and soft eyes.
Truth or Dare continues, which results in all kinds of shenanigans. Barnaby ends up eating a donut with ketchup on it, Frank spills his guts about his celebrity crush, Poppy reveals that sometimes she just buys cakes from Howdy instead of baking them herself, Eddie gets a mustache drawn on in sharpie. Eventually, though, it comes back to you.
"Truth or Dare?" Sally asks you.
"Dare." You decide to be bold this time.
Sally grin, "I dare you to go into Wally's basement... alone."
Even Wally seems to be surprised by this, blinking at her with wide eyes. You slowly swallow.
"I don't think I've ever been in Wally's basement." Poppy says.
"Me either." Eddie chimes in as well.
"It's really damp and dark down there." Wally chuckles with a wave of his hand. "Are you sure you want to go down there?" He asks, looking at you.
"No shame in chickening out." Barnaby shrugs.
Your stomach does somersaults, flopping nervously. As much as you don't want to go down, you don't want to be the chicken.
"No, I'll go down." You say, standing. "Show me the way, Wally."
Every stands at the top to the steps of the basement, which recede down into total darkness. You can't even see the bottom from up here.
"What exactly do you use your basement for, Wally?" You ask, licking your lips nervously.
"Storage." Wally replies. "Mostly, at least."
"Oh, okay."
There's a pause. You realize everyone is waiting for you to go down.
"Well, here I go."
As you start down the steps, you wish you had asked for a flashlight. There is no way you're going to be able to see anything when you reach the bottom. However, if you head back up those steps now, you know there is no way you'll be able to convince yourself to come back down later.
As you walk, it feels like someone is walking down behind you. There are two sets of footsteps on the stairs, despite you knowing that no one would've come down with you.
When you reach the bottom, you stand in darkness, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the light. The noise behind you reaches the bottom as well and the sound of footsteps continues, moving along the edges of the basement.
There's a popping noise as well, though you're not sure where that's coming from either. You get that odd feeling that someone is watching you.
You can't take this any longer. You sprint back up the steps, relieved to see the familiar looks of friends' faces when you reach the top.
"You did it!" Wally celebrates.
"Well, you weren't down there for very long." Sally says. "But, you still did it."
"It's getting late anyway." Julie yawns. "Shouldn't we be going to bed?"
You all head back over to the living room, where everyone starts to set up their sleeping bags. Frank and Julie lay theirs next to each other, Howdy, Poppy, and Sally lay theirs out in another part of the living room, and in a different corner Barnaby and Eddie set up.
"Want to sleep near me?" Wally asks, sleeping bag in hand.
"Oh, yes!" You say. "I figured you were going to sleep on the couch?"
"No, no." Wally shakes his head. "You can have the couch. I want you to be comfortable."
"That's really nice." You blush.
You throw your sleeping bag onto the couch and Wally lays his onto the ground below it. You think it's comforting that he'll be right there all night.
Everyone snuggles into their blankets as Wally shuts off the light. Slowly, you hear everyone's breathing soften as one by one they fall asleep. Your eyelids grow heavy as you soon join them.
You wake up a while later. It's still dark, but something definitely feels off. You lay there awake for a while, trying to figure out exactly what is wrong, until it hits you.
There's no sound of breathing.
Is no one here? You stand up, trying to make sure you don't step on Wally in his sleeping bag only to realize your efforts were fruitless. He's not there.
In fact, no one is here.
"Hello?" You call, heading for the light switch. You flick it, but the lights don't come on.
Creaking sounds from the upstairs part of the house. It sounds like someone is walking around up there. You're not overly familiar with Wally's house, but you're able to find the stairs, heading up.
"Wally?" You call, desperate for any kind of response.
You get none.
The creaking continues though, getting louder the closer you get.
"Guys?" You call again. "What are doing up here? I thought we were sleeping?"
The noise leads you to a room at the end of the hall. Light spills out from the bottom of the door, illuminating part of the hallway. As you grasp the doorknob, the noise stops.
Pushing open the door, you scream at the sight inside. It's all your friends... well, kind of.
They're grotesque, body parts snapped and bent every which way, jaws broken and mouths open in agony. They writhe about, crawling by digging their nails into the wooden floor.
Worst of all, though, is their eyes. Bloodshot and wide, their irises are stretched thin from how wide their pupils are. They're all staring at you.
Then, they start to crawl towards you.
You wake with a gasp, sitting up as your hands fumble to find something sturdy. You breathe hard, chest falling heavy as tears prick your eyes.
"What's wrong, are you okay?"
You glance down to see Wally still awake, book sitting in lap with a small reading light.
It's only then that you notice the warm wet feeling. You groan, reaching a hand down to confirm what you fear. Your pants are soaking wet, sticking to your legs uncomfortably as they start to cool off. You pray that you didn't ruin Wally's couch.
"Are you okay?" Wally repeats, standing up in a panic.
"I'm okay." You nod, feeling the tips of your ears go warm. "It's just... um." You flip your blanket off of yourself.
"Oh!" He sounds relieved. "That's no biggie, we can just wash it." He glances around at everyone sleeping. "Just you and me, no one has to know."
You slowly nod.
Wally is very sweet and helpful, even giving you a pair of his pajamas to wear while he washes yours. He brings another blanket downstairs for you to use.
"Thank you for all your help." You say, sitting down on the couch. He sits next to you.
"No problem." He leans in, nuzzling at your ear. "I like to take care of you."
You laugh, "I'm also sorry about your jacket. I wish I could take care of you for once."
Wally merely smiles, "Don't worry, all will be repaid in the end."
You're not sure why, but that makes your hair stand on end. When you eventually crawl back onto the couch and Wally lays at the ground, you find that for some reason sleep won't take you.
This is my first fic for Welcome Home so I hope you like :)
Blood.
Yes, there is definitely blood seeping out of your head wound onto the smooth concrete of Home's floor, pooling and puddling. It's redder and less viscous than you thought blood would be... or maybe that's due to the bright puppetry of this world.
Despite having been a neighbor for years, you've never actually been inside Home. You almost laugh to yourself. You never expected Home to have concrete flooring. Fuzzy carpet, warm wood floor, sure, those would've been expected, but no, you're only greeted with cold, harsh concrete.
"Hi, neighbor." The voice is smooth and low, but you know better than to trust that. It's why you've ended up here in the first place.
You scramble to your feet, not caring if you get blood on your clothes and shoes. In fact, maybe that's for the better. You know how any sort of imperfection gets under his skin.
Pressing your hand to your wound to quench the blood, you squint your eyes in the darkness, trying to make out where he is.
"Wally?" You call, hardly a question and more of a demand for him to remove himself from hiding.
"The one and only!" The joyful voice echoes off the walls. With the amount of reverberance, you would think that Home is an amphitheater. He still doesn't make himself shown, though.
"Stop playing games, Wally." You yell, shuffling through the dark.
"Oh, but we love games here." His voice seems to come from every direction. "And I especially love games with you."
You can feel the blood drip into your eye, only impairing your vision further. You can feel yourself grow annoyed. "I'm not your best friend!"
"No, no, of course not..." There's a scampering movement behind you. You turn your head, eyes focusing in the darkness. You scan the jolly, plain furniture for his large eyes. They are always the thing that gives him away.
Breath tickles your ear. "You're so much more than that."
You whip your head around, hands clenched into fists and ready for a fight, but he isn't there.
"It's such a shame." Tone as cool as always. "Can't you just be nice and play along? You play so well. I really enjoyed it."
"You and I both know that I was playing along for my safety." The blood loss is getting to you. You need to get out of here. Now.
Dragging yourself along, you try to find some sort of exit, but Home is an endless maze, taking you through twisting corners and repeat rooms.
"That's not true." He's lying to himself again. "You love all us, just as we love you."
"Wally-" You give a warning, growling tone.
"That's how the neighborhood works!"
"That's not how it works!" You snap, perhaps yelling at no one. Maybe this was all just a sick trick of the mind from Home. "You're exactly what I hate! You talk of friendship and neighborly behavior, but you've shown me none of that!"
There's an eerie silence from the other end of the conversation, but you're not sure if you care. Perhaps this can spare you enough time.
Despite searching for an exit, you get the feeling you've only gone deeper into Home. Maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe you need to really see what's at the heart of this... thing.
"Wally?" You call. His absence is somehow more chilling than his presence.
There's no answer. Only creaking footsteps. At least, you think they're footsteps.
You push on. As you go, you can feel eyes on you. When you look to find them though, they're nowhere to be seen. You pray this isn't the end for you.
With every room you enter, the familiar friendly aesthetic of the neighborhood disappears. Cheerful bright furniture is shattered and torn to shreds, festive 70's wallpaper peels and molds off the wall, even picture frames with the shining smiling pictures of you and Wally are replaced with those of horrifying corpses with rotting flesh.
You wonder if that's all this really is. Maybe you're dead and this is some sort of sick hell. That might've helped you feel better if you thought in the slightest that you deserve a hell as torturous as this.
You lean on a doorframe, spots circling your vision as you attempt to remain upright. Leaning your head down, you vomit up your guts. Your heart races as it attempts to pump what little blood you have left through your veins. This isn't good.
You stagger into a hallway of eyes. They watch as you stumble and bump into the walls in a hopeless attempt to get away. You're dizzy. Every step feels like you're on a deranged carnival ride, the floor seems uneven and the ceiling crooked.
"Wally!" It's more of a desperate cry now. You're not even sure what you're asking for, but you're pleading. For mercy, perhaps.
You collapse, blood dripping from your chin.
It's then that he's there. His gentle touch, warm embrace, and soothing voice almost make you forget he's your captor. At the moment though, you're only glad to be rescued from the harsh reality that is Home.
"It's all right." His half lidded eyes watch you carefully as you fade in and out of consciousness, hand softly stroking at your hair. "I'll fix you."
You let yourself be soothed by him, wrapping yourself in the comfortable familiarity. So what if it's fake, it's safe. Your blood loss drags you into unconsciousness and you let it, leaving yourself helpless in his care.
