mel. 26, mecathronics engineer. brazilian. huge bayverse transformers enthusiast. any pronouns are okay :)
member of the fromville server, the crazy conspiracy theory aunt (it's the faeries). kenny simp along with zoza. jade's bff in my delulu mind.
oc enthusiast - talk to me about yours!
ask always open, but i don't take requests often - i work two jobs and writing is a hobby, not a chore. please do send in your ideas, i'll probably get to them if my brain cooperates!
i write smut, angst, fluff, whatever the heart desires. i post all my works on ao3 as well.
mdni for obvious reasons.
request rules ♠ masterlist ♠ my ao3 ♠ OC masterlist
Summary: A shitty plan gets executed by Kenny. It doesn't go as planned, and Bug learns what their worst fear actually is.
Warnings: Kenny x Bug (OC), mentions of attempted murder, creatures being creatures, cursing, mentions of ptsd, spoilers for s4e7 of from, Jade says suggestive shit, mentions of Acosta shooting people
Thanatophobia: the intense, irrational fear of death or the dying process. Derived from the Greek words thanatos (death) and phobos (fear). People may fear being dead, the physical process of dying, the unknown, or leaving loved ones behind.
The plan sucked ass.
Bug heard the entire thing at exactly 4:57pm, when Ellis tattled about his father’s musings to Fatima. They had checked up on Donna after lunchtime, worried about her wellbeing after the heart attack, and lingered in Colony House to see if anyone else needed help.
(It wasn’t because they had seen the fucking Coraline-like thing that Roger’s corpse had become, and tried to get a feeling of any bad vibes around. Nuh-uh.)
Going back into town was a slow affair; people treated them like a vent channel, and by the time they managed to find Jade in some random spot, half an hour had passed.
“You look like shit,” The older man said, leaning against a lightpost. His shirt - the kitten one he hadn’t changed in approximately four days - was crinkled, his pants absolutely filthy.
The absolute gall of him.
“Are you shitting me?” Bug nearly squeaked, brows furrowed into something akin to an offended frown. “I’m in top shape, while you’re out here cosplaying the human version of a dumpster raccoon.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Jade waved his hand at them, curls windswept. “I found out a lot of things in very few days, I’m allowed to look like I’m struggling.”
Bug’s left eye twitched in annoyance. They reached up, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose with their index finger’s knuckle. “Ah, yes. The reincarnation cycle.”
“The fact I have a dead wife who is now reincarnated and alive, also.” He grumbled, looking a bit flustered. “...and I’m a father, apparently.”
“Congratulations!”
“Oh, fuck you.”
Bug’s lips quirked up, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Jade lit up. For a moment, they thought he’d tell them to fuck off again, but his words were worse.
“Oh, I forgot you’ve got lover boy to cover that part.”
Heat crawled up Bug’s cheeks instantly, and even though they knew it was rare for them to actually blush - their skin color was light, but an olive, golden shade that made it hard for the blood to show underneath it -, they knew they were red in the face at that point.
Their relationship with Kenny was recent, enough that not many people knew about it, but not because they were actively hiding it; it was the fact that not much changed between them that made it hard to spot, because they were affectionate all the time.
They held Kenny’s hands, fiddled with his fingers, hung off his shoulders, hid their face in his neck, wrapped their arms around his waist from behind, even shared a bed when they were both in the former Liu house.
Now Kenny had been in Colony house for a few weeks, and Bug slept in the archive room at the sheriff’s station, knowing Boyd needed help at night, sometimes. The older man was like a father figure, and he needed to actually sleep, so they sang him lullabies until he stopped having nightmares.
“Shut the fuck up, oh my God,” Bug whined, pressing their palm to Jade’s face (not slapping, never slapping him) until he stopped talking. “We’re not– That’s not a thing, please stop talking–”
“Oh, you’re on first base–” Came Jade’s muffled response, and Bug nearly choked on their own saliva. “Sweet. You’re both so sweet.”
“I hope you trip on a rock and die, Jade.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Thus, they parted ways.
Bug headed to the station just as Boyd returned to it, bell in hand as everyone in town tucked in for the night. The door was closed behind them, talisman safe in place, and they finally looked up.
Ellis and Kenny were inside, too, probably to be some kind of backup to Boyd; Bug’s eyes widened, entire body perking up when they saw their boyfriend close.
Kenny in the sheriff station after dark meant he’d sleep over, which meant they’d have time to actually talk without having to part ways, and the way he smiled back meant that Bug’s mouth had lost a fight against their brain and smiled really fucking wide without noticing.
“Hey,” He said, a bit breathless, and it took one (1) word for Bug to wrap their arms around his neck.
It was a subtle change, really. Before, Bug wrapped their arms around Kenny’s midriff, burying their face in his shoulder and calling it a day; friendly embrace, totally platonic, even if Bug had already confessed their undying love to Kenny at least twenty-three times.
Now, their arms wound around his neck, and his hands settled either on their hips or waist. His nose buried in their black curls, messy and smelling like the olive oil they’d taken to using after washing their hair. He relaxed visibly, and Ellis glanced at them exactly once, smiling to himself.
“Missed you,” Kenny whispered in their ear, thumbs caressing their hips through their flannel. “Something interesting happen’ today?”
Bug inhaled softly, shaking their head no. Their nose brushed the junction of his neck and shoulder, taking in the scent of a day of hard work - clean sweat, dust, something faintly woodsy. Home, their brain supplied. No matter what kinda shit was thrown in their face, they were safe with him.
“Nah. Donna feels better, and that’s good, Fatima is looking after her.” They said softly, fingers weaving in his hair. “Got creeped out at Roger’s corpse, though you already know I fucking hate dolls. I just hope he was already gone when that happened.”
Knowing that he could’ve been alive while a creepy, giant doll sewed oversized buttons over his eyes and sewed his mouth shut made Bug’s heart give a painful squeeze. They hated how cruel this entire place was.
“Jade told me to fuck off twice, but that’s standard.” They snickered, pulling back just to look into Kenny’s eyes. “You? Anyone gave you shit today? Acosta has been weirdly quiet these last few days.”
“She’s in basement duty,” Boyd announced, clearly listening in. They were all in the same room, after all. “Doesn’t have time to do anything but catalogue shit.”
“No time to shoot people,” Bug grumbled, fingers skimming Kenny’s temples, and settling on his cheeks, cupping them. “Sophia got her weird ass near you again?”
Kenny’s lips twitched, and Ellis snickered, loudly. When Bug turned their head towards him, looking a bit disgruntled, Kenny cupped their cheeks as well, and turned them back towards his own face.
“First of all, Sophia is not weird,”
“She is weird,” Ellis chirped, and Boyd gave him a disapproving look. “What? She is. She’s a weird kid, that’s standard teen behavior.”
“She’s grieving,” His father retorted, peeping through the blinds.
“And she’s weird. Not mutually exclusive.” Bug shot back, looking up at their boyfriend. “So?”
“Second of all, she’s staying with Sara now. Haven’t seen her in a while.” Kenny replied, still smiling. “Still jealous?”
They scoffed, cheeks still flushed. “Pfft. I’m worried she’s going to wander out at night again, not– not jealous.”
Ellis hummed, utterly disbelieving. He had joined his father at the window now, and Kenny took advantage of their little private moment to squish Bug’s cheeks together, making their lips pucker. His own lips pressed to theirs for a moment, brief and soft, pulling back after a handful of seconds.
It was like this every single time they had even a crumb of privacy; someone turned their head for seven seconds, and Bug pressed a kiss to Kenny’s cheek or lips, and vice-versa. Sometimes, it was the back of their hand, other times Bug brushed his hair back, off his forehead.
Kenny had less and less time for himself these days, but when he found himself with nothing to do, he’d find Bug and drag them into the closest place with a door and a lock, just to bury his face in their neck and sneak a few kisses. He’d complain a bit, get his dose of serotonin, and return to deputy duties with a sigh.
“I’m going to feed Jellybean right now,” They said softly, pressing another kiss to their boyfriend’s lips. “Come with me?”
Kenny’s eyes softened. The chicken was safe in the enclosure Bug had built for her in the archive room, covered with old papers they changed daily so it wouldn’t stay dirty or stink.
“Gonna stay here with them, it’s almost time.” He replied, letting go of them with a kiss pressed to their temple. “Go on, I’ll see Jellybean soon.”
Bug hummed softly, prancing away to the archive room - now their room, complete with an old bed and mattress, a dresser in front of it, and on the opposite side of the room (that wasn’t big, to begin with), a spacious enclosure for Jellybean.
It was made out of iron grids they bolted to the wall, with the floor covered in shredded newspaper over an old blanket, and a few wooden poles. The food and water bowls were on top of the newspaper, in a corner, and the chicken herself was perched on the tallest pole.
“There you are, precious.” Bug chirped, pulling out a bag of chicken feed from under their bed - One of the fours sacks they had brought with them in the car, when they first arrived in town, retrieved the morning after. “Time to eat, yeah?”
They had just finished pouring Jellybean’s food in the bowl when Boyd and Kenny started shouting in the other room. Ellis’s voice rose as well, unintelligible, and Bug rushed out of their room, blinking up at the three men.
“–hat if your leg gives out? Huh?” Kenny asked, gesturing at Boyd. “Like last time? What if you can’t get back up this time?”
“Listen to me very carefully. Both of you, listen!” Boyd shouted back, aggravated. “I’m not sending anyone out there and risk their life while I sit in here like a– fucking, stop it! Goddamn it, stop it!”
Ellis and Kenny watched as the sheriff shook and glared at his hand, trying to make it stop shaking by sheer willforce. It didn’t work.
Ellis broke the silence. “Dad, please?”
It took a moment, but Boyd agreed to whatever it was they had been discussing so passionately. Bug stood behind the duo, fingers curling on the hem of their flannel, booted feet shuffling on the floor.
Just what is going on?
They didn’t even have to ask, because Ellis turned around, and spoke on everyone’s behalf. “Dad isn’t in top shape to– to do these things, so Kenny said he’d do it.”
It seemed as if ice substituted the blood in Bug’s veins. One sentence, and Kenny was turning around to look at them with his pretty eyes, and their heart damn nearly fucking stopped beating right then and there.
“The sucky plan?” They breathed out, fingers trembling. “Going out and– and stabbing one of them and hoping it dies?”
Boyd pursed his lips, opening his mouth to retort something like I said I’m the one who has to do it but these damn stubborn kids won’t let me, but his deputy was faster.
“I’m faster, and I know every emergency route and place to hide.” He said, looking down at his partner. “It’s the best option we’ve got.”
“I’m going with you, then,” They blurted out, brows furrowing. “I can distract them–”
“Absolutely not.” Kenny replied, adamant. “We’re not risking you–”
“And we’re risking you?!” They exclaimed, stepping towards the trio. “So we’re just– you’ll just walk out there without anyone–”
“You’re going to be a distraction.” He concluded, fingers curling on Bug’s shoulders. “I’m going to be out there, and if you’re putting yourself as a distraction for them, I’m going to worry about you and then I’m going to be distracted myself.”
Bug swallowed thickly, fingers clutching the hem of their flannel so tightly, it started to crease.
“I can use a knife,” They whispered, weakly.
“You know that won’t do anything.”
“I can go myself–”
“Bug, stop.” Boyd said, looking back at the engineer. “Kenny is capable of doing it. Chances of failing are less if he’s alone.”
The deputy sighed, thumb brushing his partner’s cheek slowly, ever so softly. Their flight instinct had been gone since the first day in town, and now the urge to fight was all they had left - self-preservation gone. They didn’t care if they died, as long as everyone else was safe.
“I’ll be okay,” He whispered, nose brushing theirs. “I promise.”
It took twenty-seven minutes for Ellis to deem outside perfect for Kenny to go. Enough creatures scattered out, creepy atmosphere at a peak. Yes, perfect moment for someone to go out and attempt to stab one.
“I really don't think it's a good idea.” Bug mumbled to Ellis, fingers curled on the desk, still shaking. “It wasn't a good idea with your dad, it's not a good one with Kenny. Not a good idea in general.”
“I know,” Ellis whispered, wrapping his arm around their shoulders. Kenny looked at them one last time, nodded his head, and grabbed the spear. “But it's the only one we've got.”
“Be careful,” Bug mouthed, swallowing thickly. “I love you.”
The deputy's lips quirked up, a soft smile breaking through as he mouthed back. “I love you, too.”
And then, he was gone out the door, closing it behind himself.
Boyd was practically glued to the window, with Bug and Ellis beside him, watching as the creatures turned and smiled at Kenny.
He was fast, no one could deny that; being involved in sports his entire life, he was probably the most fit person in town, with the exception of Jeor, the kind bear who was sleeping in Colony House this particular night.
The spear went through the milkman's chest, and for a moment, it seemed like it'd work.
“He got it,” Bug breathed out, fingers still curled on the desk, Ellis still holding them close. “He did it–”
And then, the creature laughed. Broke the spear like it was a toothpick, and Kenny ran.
“Get outta there!” Boyd yelled, his own fingers curling on the windowsill with enough strength to make it creak under his grip.
Bug's heart was beating way too fast now, eyes following their boyfriend like a bullet. The houses. The bar. The diner. Everywhere he went, there was a creature already there, like they knew he was going to try and head inside.
“Dad, they're blocking the doors!” Ellis shouted, and Bug finally snapped, struggling against his hold.
Their brain turned off every single thought aside from Kenny is in danger.
“He’s outside, no, no, he is–” They shouted, pulling away from Ellis's hands. “They’re blocking the doors, Boyd, let me out–!”
The sheriff turned around, eyes wide as Bug shook and struggled against his son's tight embrace, the younger man's own eyes wide.
They knew how strong Bug naturally was, and if they got enough adrenaline in their body…
Boyd disappeared into his own room, while Ellis held the wild engineer in his arms; their eyes were trained outside the window, blood turning ice cold as the smiling creature followed Kenny into the bus.
“He's fucking inside–!” They yelled, eyes filling with tears. “No, no, he's going to die, he can't die, not him!”
The sheriff came back with a coil of rope in hands, and Ellis met his eyes over Bug's head.
“Help me tie them up.” Boyd said, and Bug sobbed in Ellis's hold.
“Please,” They were crying by now, tears streaming down their cheeks, fingers clutching at nothing. “I need–”
A chair was pushed forward, and Ellis pushed them down on it, still struggling to keep them still as his father wound the rope around Bug's midriff, chest and arms.
By the time they were completely tied off, a shriek was heard. Their eyes were misty, the lenses of their glasses sprinkled and greasy with tears, and they couldn't see the window anymore.
“He can't die,” They whispered, over and over again. “Not him, please, not him,”
Boyd and Ellis were glued to the window now, watching as Kenny pushed the creature off the bus’s roof, slipped back inside the vehicle, and successfully closed the door and the emergency exit.
Silence reigned for a minute.
“He did it,” Ellis breathed out, pressing the heels of his hands onto his eyes. “God, he did it.”
When the duo turned around, Bug was staring up at them with wide, teary eyes, and such a heartbroken expression, Boyd nearly gave in to the urge to untie them.
“He's safe. He got into the bus,” The older man said, sliding onto a chair himself. “He's safe, kid.”
They struggled against the ropes again, fingers twitching, chest pushing against the bindings, but to no avail; marine standard knots, only Boyd would be able to untie it.
“Let me– see him, please, please–”
“Can't risk you trying to go out and sprint towards the bus,” He replied, crossing his arms. “Sorry.”
Bug cursed lowly, still moving. Ellis sat down on the floor near the door, sighing in relief, and tried not to look towards his friend.
Outside, the creatures mocked and whispered.
“Come keep your boyfriend safe, little Bug.”
“I bet he's scared, being all alone in that big bus.”
“What if he accidentally opens a window?”
“Come play, Buggy.”
For the first time, Bug felt compelled to go outside.
When the sun rose, the station's door opened, and a couple of men would find Boyd, Ellis and Bug asleep.
Their engineer was still tied up to the chair, tears dried on their cheeks and chin, glasses askew on their face.
For the first time since arriving in town, Jeor Olbrecht rose his voice.
“What the fuck?”
Bug woke up then, blearily staring up at the man who had become their father figure in this hellhole.
“...can you untie me, please?”
Randall Kirkland watched as his boyfriend undid the knots by ripping them apart, while Boyd sighed, rubbing his temples. The sheriff could hear a headache coming.
Three minutes later, when Bug finally stumbled outside, frazzled and completely fucking exhausted, Kenny stepped out of the bus. Their eyes met, and the way the engineer barreled into his embrace almost knocked the deputy backwards.
“Don't ever do that again,” They whispered, voice shaky. “That's not– ever. You're never doing that again.”
“I won't.” Kenny whispered back, nose buried in their curls. “I promise.”
By the treeline, someone watched the display, and smirked to themselves.
“The smart little Bug does have a weakness, after all.” Sophia grinned, adjusting her glasses. “They're so much fun to play with. Always so very suspicious of the right ones.”
A leaf rustled beside her. Wind picked up, and the feeling of something moving through the open field towards town was felt by exactly one person.
Bug's eyes snapped open.
“Feel it, Buggy.” Sophia sung to herself, turning around. “This is the most fun part, after all.”
Can some of you guys stop being such assholes about Elgin in the latest episode.
Like yes from our perspective thats a stupid decision but Elgin is not us. He doesn't know about man in yellow. He also isn't avare that there could be a shapeshifter among them. But you know what hes avare of? The reincernation cycle.
From what he knows Sofia could be somebody who got reincarnated and showing that photo might even help her with remembering.
And thats not even considering the fact that he already got scewed over by an evil entity that used photos to manipulate him. From his point of view asking the nearest person if they see what he sees too is the best way to prevent another Fatima situation. It's not his fault the nearest person was Murders Georg.
Also a character making a bad decision does not excuse ableism. Stop caling him stupid cyclops.
To Jade: "Kenny said I'm spending way too much time with you." (...) "No, no, it's just-- I started to theorize about things that shouldn't be theorized about."
To Donna: "...did you just say giant dolls?"
To Julie: "You're a kid. Don't try to solve something you shouldn't be responsible for."
To Boyd: "He's outside, no, no, he is-- they're blocking the doors, Boyd, let me out--!"
To Tabitha: "I know you're grieving, and I know it's hard to be here and have everything happen at once, but you're being way too harsh on Victor. It's his way of trying to help, even if it's weird and a bit unsettling."
To Ben: "No, you're not going to the caves. No, you're not throwing Molotov cocktails down the entrance and hoping for the best, Benny, just settle down."
To Kristi: "We're here. We're here, I'm so sorry."
To Sophia: "Your father was a pastor?" (...) "Yeah, I'm ministers' child. Plural. Mom and dad, so I know my bible lore."
To Randall: "No, I'm just saying that, look. I wear glasses. I've worn the same glasses for nearly two years in this place. What are the odds of her going into the storage room and finding a pair of glasses with the same prescription as her old ones?!"
To Sara: "Be careful. I'm just saying, please be careful."
To Kenny: "I am not-- I am not jealous. I'm just saying it's weird that we never got to interact with her father, to know anything," (...) "She's just weird, okay? And not in the way I'm weird or Victor is weird, she's negative weird!"
Bonus quote: "No, Jellybean is not part of the barn animals. She's mine. No, she does not lay eggs, and, don't touch her. You're not allowed within ten feet of my chicken."
Summary: Kenny asks Bug how does it feel when they know something is in the room with them. The answer is not what he expected.
Warnings: mentions of attempted murder, cursing, mentions of ptsd, hurt-comfort ftw, s1 spoilers
Bug had seen and felt weird shit since they were thirteen.
It was like they had this... little radar that pinged when something bad was about to happen, or an unknown presence walked into the general vicinity. The sight came after, because feeling the presence didn’t essentially mean the thing itself was in their line of sight.
When Kenny asked them about it the first time – right after Tabitha had seen the ghost children, and Bug happened to see them too -, they were sitting in the living room, sharing a blanket, with Tian-Chen asleep in her room and Jade theorizing in his.
Kenny was warm. Not only in the physical sense, but in the way his being was ingrained with kindness and love and warmth. And Bug, since arriving in this nightmare, had clung to him like a barnacle. He was used to it, now. He anticipated it, even.
That’s why he didn’t pull away when they sidled up to him, pulling their knees up to their chest and wrapping the blanket around each other like a fort. Bug’s hand found his own, fingers fiddling in that familiar, restless way of theirs, and he spoke.
“What’s it like?” He asked, voice lower than usual. The people roamed outside, rustling feet and brushing windows, and he wrapped his free arm around their shoulder (because that’s just how reality was, now). “I mean, when you feel the weird stuff, but can’t see it.”
Bug stopped fiddling, for a second. The pad of their index finger brushed the length of Kenny’s thumb, brows furrowed in thought, glasses slipping down the bridge of their nose. It was rare to see them so calm – they were usually bouncing off the damn walls with restless, anxious energy.
(Unless they were with Jellybean. Or Kenny. Or Tian-Chen, and Jade was quickly becoming a source of safety for them, too.)
(That’s what they feared the most. Loving so many people meant more chances of getting hurt when they inevitably died, but—)
“It’s like light. Like—like a lamppost.” They replied, resuming the fiddling (stop thinking, stop it, stop—). “When you’re so far away you can’t really see the lamp itself, but the light reaches you.”
Bug looked up at Kenny, then, holding up their free hand and letting it hover near his cheek.
“Like I’m not touching you, but you can feel my hand close to your skin.”
A moment passed. Their lips quirked up, a grin breaking through the seriousness for a minute, and they poked Kenny’s cheek. Once, twice, until he swatted at their hand with a grin of his own, and they wrapped both arms around his shoulders, hiding their face in his neck.
“It’s like there’s someone standing behind me, but I can’t see them. Sometimes, it’s like the air gets thicker. Other times, I feel like everyone around me is in danger,” They whispered, inhaling softly. “…sometimes, it’s like there’s a crowd around me, pressing in, and my heart beats so fast I think I’m gonna die.”
Kenny swallowed thickly, still for a moment.
“Those are the times I come sleep here, on the couch. Or I—I knock on your door, and you let me sleep with you, because my room doesn’t feel safe.”
They had known each other for long enough, to know that Bug didn’t feel scared easily. Not after surviving a literal assassination attempt, and a night out in a hole after dark, when arriving in town. Not after getting their brain rewired to survival mode, something essential to self-preservation lost in the aftermath of what should’ve never happened.
That’s exactly why Kenny opened the door. Why he let them curl beside him on the bed, his arm around their back, their leg over his hip, their fingers clutching at his sweater like he might vanish in the middle of the night.
“You always end up wrapping your arm ‘round my neck,” He said, voice thick. His fingers delved in Bug’s curls, like it was second-nature to him – because it was. It had been, for months. “and choking me. You’re a hazard, Mendes.”
“As if you don’t like it, Liu.” They retorted, breath warm as they laughed against his skin. “You’re a masochist—”
“Am not,”
“Oh, you are!”
Bug pulled away then, staring up at Kenny with those dark brown irises that always saw too much, right through what other people ignored – maybe it was the engineer in them, or maybe it was the trauma of having people you love turn on you, or maybe they just had been searching for details since they could form a proper thought.
“…you’re full of shit, and I’m telling auntie you called me a hazard.”
Kenny snickered, covering their face with a loose edge of the blanket.
idk if this is controversial or not, but I really like when non-professional writing like fic has hints of author bleedthrough when it comes to like, what different people assume is common knowledge. Like sometimes I’ll be reading a fic and it’ll just be obvious that the person writing it is either obsessed with medicine or has been to medical school, because they’ll use terms that are just a shade too technical without explaining them. It’s never the super specific stuff that they’d know other people are unaware of, it’s always the things that once you’ve known it for a while you forget it’s niche knowledge. It’s fun because as a fanfic reader it reminds me of how this is a fun hobby community, where everyone has their own thing going on outside of fandom. Everyone’s got their own specialties and they can’t help but write that into their work sometimes
i know randall saying "it's really not like that" to tabitha re: hanging out with julie is probably just to signal that he has the basic decency not to be hornt up for a traumatized teenage girl
Summary: Bug's abilities are inherited. They're not very cool, though. (Set before fromville)
Warnings: canon typical swearing, ghosts and demons, the usual.
Bug Mendes had seen weird shit since they were thirteen.
Before they knew their own identity, their eyes had been trained to look for shifty shadows and fleeting shapes.
The first truly remarkable one happened one evening, after taking a shower, when they were fifteen years old. Parents working late, three year old brother taking a nap after they had dinner.
They lived in a rented house that was always too cold, felt like it hid something in its brick walls (even though brazilian houses had no space between walls to hide corpses), and their brother's room had that kinda oppressive energy that got the kid so spooked, he never slept there.
The kitchen had a door that led to an open space outside, where the washing machine was, beside a few clothes lines. It was open, but there were houses on every side, so it had that weird limbo feeling where something was and wasn't at the same time.
"Damn, it's colder than usual." Bug mumbled, already wearing their pajamas - a long sleeved shirt and some flimsy pair of pink pants with black polka dots. 'A fitting gift for a girl,' their grandma said, and Bug didn't know why that had felt so hollow.
Towel slung over one shoulder, they walked towards the kitchen door while trying not to shiver; even though the warmth of the shower - the electrical one that was present in every brazilian household, never running out of hot water - was still running through their system, it was fucking cold, and the house ran cold too, and their flip flops did jack shit to keep their toes warm.
"It's winter. Of course it's colder than usual." They said to no one at all, flinging the kitchen door open with such violence, the metal creaked a little. "We live on the top of a fucking mountain, too--"
They were going to hang the towel on the clothes line. In the cold of the open area, because it was open, and the 9 degrees were absolutely glacial to anyone from Minas Gerais.
Alas, there was no peace for the broke.
Standing near the clothes line was a thing. Actually, a thing might be an underestimation to just what the fuck was standing outside Bug's door, looking at them like it was normal to just be in someone's home, like it wasn't an absolute abomination.
The first thing they noticed, it's that the thing was tall. Easily two meters, standing nearly 40 centimeters taller than Bug, and the second things, it's that it was black. Not dark, because dark was the house when lights were off, and the lights outside were on, and that thing was pitch fucking black in a way they had never imagined could be seen at any point in their life.
The third thing, well. It was staring straight at them with two eyeballs that looked more like two tiny flashlights glowing amidst blackness. No features, just a vague human-shadow shape. And the last, and perhaps the worst one, was that it was floating. It had no legs, no feet, nothing. Where it was supposed to touch the floor, there was a gap, and black mist-like something - shifting like smoke trapped there.
It stared. Bug stared back.
"Out of all places," They said out loud, heart hammering in their chest. "I've gotta hang my damn towel."
Bug's brain came up with two choices: turn around, put the towel on the back of a chair and have their mom nag at them for it, or hang the fucking towel on the clothes line, walk beside the thing and ignore it.
Of course they chose the best option.
"I rebuke you, weird thing." Was the first thing to come out of their mouth, as they walked out, stood beside the thing, and hung the towel. Stopped for a good seven seconds, exhaled, and turned back around. "Leave me alone."
They walked back to the kitchen, looked outside, stared into the thing's eyes, and closed the door on its face.
Forty minutes later, their parents arrived home. Forty-three minutes later, they both had been debriefed on the thing. Forty-seven minutes later, their father had contacted a pastor, because their father had seen his fair share of weird shit in his life as well - though the first time he saw something was way earlier, when he was seven years old.
Ten years later, Bug arrived in a nightmare town.
And when they started to see more and more weird shit, well.
