This is my shot at a gender neutral story. Iâve never written one before and Iâm super scared of disappointing anyone. So I apologize if this is lacking in anyway. I will be working on another plot of sorts with this reader as well differing from the female X readers.
Our reader survives something they should not have and face unexpected consequences as a result.
The train was a blinding blur of fire and searing metal. All aboard had all nearly died from whiplash alone but the few that werenât clung to life burning their hands on metal and screamed sliding to the back of the carts with the others. No one knew what had caused the near derailing, now most of the carts lost, little but totaled wrecks.Â
The train showed no signs of stopping as it headed for a closed off path reinforced with steel. (y/n) stayed in a seat that still seemed to be intact barely able to register anything that was happening also suffering from whiplash.Â
Everything around them burned as screams pierced their ears. Before they could even blink the train made impact and was sent crashing directly to its side rolling down the side of the track. Bodies were flung in all directions just as a metal beam crushed inwards trapping their leg. Forced to dangle they clinged to the seat screaming in agony struggling to hold on but werenât strong enough.Â
Grasp slipping they were thrown around like a ragdoll as everyone else were all thrown around inside and against the car walls like joint-less dolls.
All they felt last was searing pain in their leg then saw black as their head connected with the wall.
*********
When they came to they couldnât see anything. But the immediate sharp sting of pain from their entrapped leg jolted them fully awake immediately. They noticed fast that they could see nothing but black and the fear of blindness had them scream aloud in horror. Trapped and unable to see a thing. Hearing wasnât clear either. But they didnât seem to be dead. The screams had dissipated for everyone on board had died, bodies now strewn around them.Â
Attempting to call out loud opening their mouth and try to speak had them retching first as smoke had filled their lungs. Black soot came up forcing them to spit it out and yell out voice croaking.
âHâŚ.HELP!!! S-SOMEBODY HELP ME!!â
The fear of dying gripped them hard making them try to move their arms. The left seemed to be pinned under something that was warm and wet. Another body unmoving and dead weighting had their arm pulled down. When it dawned on them what it was they shrieked again starting to cry.Â
âGod- GOD HELP ME!!â
Desperate and terrified there was nothing to do but cry, tears slowly beginning to stream down their dirty face. Eventually as they started to exhaust themselves from sobbing light started to come through to their pupils as ash and blood rinsed from the sockets. It was hard to realize this as they couldnât think straight. Unable to wipe at their face they could only blink and try to move their head around.
âSomeone-â
They muttered attempting to get bearings as vision gradually returned.Â
When they did finally manage to start seeing shapes they struggled to see what was around them, all shapes blurry and hard to focus on. It seemed to be day time as there was still light.Â
There was no movement save the glow and crackle of the still burning but dying down flames. A dark pair of something was down the way of the cart extremely hard to distinguish. Recognizing them as legs still standing they called out again shakily, throat cracking at the effort.
âHelloâŚ?â
To their surprise the legs moved and a dark figure came into view. Someone that wasnât injured. Barely conscious they looked up as well as manageable trying to fully see the person. This got the figures attention as if they somehow hadnât heard the screams from before and approached with slow steps. The figure spoke aloud with a clearly male deep voice that almost immediately set them at ease.
âWhatâs this? A survivor? Hm.â
He spoke like he wasnât even talking like he was simply conversing to himself aloud. He even seemed almost disappointed. But even worse was how the voice almost seemed to point into their ears and have them in itâs sights. It felt encompassing and dripping with strange energy all in just a few words. Still barely listening (y/n) moved their head up again not able to hold it up for very long without tiring out their neck.
âPleaseâŚhelp meâŚâ
The man paused taking them in and looked to be thinking it over. Confused by this reaction and stalling (y/n) whimpered trying to urge them to hurry. What could possibly make someone so calm during a tragedy like this?What the figure said next only made it worse.
âWhat an unfortunate disposition this is for you. Iâm afraid you are supposed to die.â
Struck by his words it left a pit in their stomach. Heaving again they tried to push past the burning in their throat to get words out quickly. Die? No. Please no.
âNoâŚI donâtâŚwant to die.â
The man held no sympathy and simply clasped his hands together like he was stating facts in a class.
âAs is the case with all living beings. Death is an unfortunate bitter inevitability.â
More tears started to come as they realized he held no interest in helping him. Head hanging down at a loss they appeared to just want to give up. Whatever cruelty this was just wasnât worth arguing against. If they were to die at least leave them in peace. Why pester anyone like this? Simply cruel. The man spoke up again sounding like he was doing something as simple as talking about a marketing deal which only stabbed at their meager situation more.
âBut I suppose there is always exemptions from such terms. And exemptions always means new rules and regulations to come.â
That made absolutely no sense. With his emotionless words they decided that they hated this man. And his voice. The way it snaked around their ears and sounded so condescending irritated them greatly. Surely he had something better to do? The man continued knowing they couldnât walk away.
âIf we were to make an agreement, Iâm sure I could cause things to shift in your favorable direction.â
Lifting their head again made their neck ache but they ignored the pain to look at him.
âWhat?â
(y/n) hesitated trying to understand the situation. It really didnât make any sense even in their state now they could infer that.
âIf IâŚ.sign a deal..you..ll help me?â
That was all they could really take from what he said. The sound of a Hmm came from the man like he was pleased with their deduction, which made them vastly uncomfortable.
âA deal of this nature could prove of great benefit to you.â
Not dying did seem like a pretty good benefit. But this was all so strange. Why talk about this now? Just what exactly was this man peddling? His sheer uncaring towards them dying now made them not want to take whatever it was he was offering. Softly the asked, feeling small and worthless somehow by this mans presence.
âWho..are you?â
A chuckle came from the man that made them wince. It held dark intonations that turned their stomach and left a bad taste in the back of their throat.
âI am in charge of hiring those who can complete tasks for the sake of my employers. I oversee and maintain certain events and things to ensure these tasks are completed to full satisfaction.â
That sounded much too textbook and dripped with dishonesty. The way his voice fell and rose like he was choosing to emphasize certain words in a way that implied he wasnât being truthful bothered them greatly. But frankly they didnât care. Feeling woozy from blood loss they failed to see why any of this was important.
âIâŚdonât careâŚâ
The man fell quiet a moment and let his hands come down in silent disappointment.
âOf course not. Understandable given your situation. It would be best to come to a decision quickly.â
Again with this deal? It was getting so exasperating. If this man really didnât care if they lived or died why bother? Feeling themselves beginning to fade from consciousness they swallowed hard trying to speak clearly.
âOkayâŚjust help..please.â
As soon as they said it it occurred to them that they didnât even know what he actually wanted. But they didnât get a chance to question it as suddenly the feeling of metal in their leg and the smell of burning bodies and metal was gone. Feeling grass under their skin they looked around disoriented by the sudden shift. Spotting the pair of legs again he approached them and once again clasped their hands together.
âA wise choice (y/n). Wise indeed.â
Feeling cool wind brush their face they heaved again as their lungs forced out more smoke and ash. Finally able to move their arms they rolled to the side grabbing at their face to try and rub away the blood and soot. It was so much they could barely feel it.Â
âOnce you have recuperated you will be contacted about your first assignment.â
Barely listening they managed to get most of it off and blinked fast desperately trying to clear their vision. The man merely watched wondering if this will really be a worthwhile deal. Best to just wait and see.
As they managed to start to see the grass their eyes stung desperately for water. Touching the grass they started to feel grateful to be alive as it dawned on them what had just happened. And how he had said their name. Striking them as odd they forced themselves to sit up off the ground and caught sight of the horrible wreckage several feet away. Their confused face fell in horror as it really hit them again what had happened shock wearing off.
âOh godâŚâ
Taking it in they could only stare as more tears started to spill again. They soothed their eyes but only made seeing worse.
âWhy-â
Finally connecting that this man somehow knew or was involved in this they snapped to look at him.
âMyâŚ.name- How did you-?â
But he was gone. And nothing was left but the slowly burning wreckage and them to keep it company. The feeling of dread started to set in as they started becoming fully aware of the deal they had just made. This would not end well.
When all she had on her mind was the trickling sentiment of eyes at every ridge of her view, the impending false sense of security submerged her room, immersing her with it from head to toe. She was stalking her room for hours in series, anticipating a clandestine company that never arrived at her door. Contrary to her belief, she wasnât expecting the visitor. The visitor was awaiting her.
Every gait aligned itself to the pulse of a silent clicking pandemonium, fretting every moment for the clock to strike its bell and holler out the final toll. She was so focused on the paragon of her saunter, she omitted the wavering of her breath, shuttering like a plucked acoustic string thawing out a rich, fading octave. There were moments where a clutch of oxygen seemed to persist for minutes apart, striving to savor the last few flutters of lifeâs air she had.
The sensory feeling of punctured pleasure spiked through her inner evergreen of nerves, jolting her fingertips with energy and rushing her feet with adrenaline. Acclivities of goosebumps rose about her exposed forearms in coalition with the individual, yet myriad threads of hair rising on every edge, twist, and turn of her skin. Each part of her body seemed to have its own sentience with a distinctive scream which beckoned her of nearby danger. The awareness of dread loomed over its appealing touch, sparking the strongest urge to run for her lasting days than she had ever before. Someone had entered the room with her. The one wall holding the inherent multitude of voices back was her head.
Still as stone, stiff as a statue; She refused to move. The one thing that her obstinate, impulsive instinct didnât know that her head did was the adverse consequence of running. She was better off cultivating a chamber to her head if she had the chance, but there was nothing she could do. Lightweight objects and blissful swaying fabrics rose in the air as anti-gravity relapsed the area around her, and a tall daunting presence approached her from behind through the home of his shadows. A wounded mouse, pricked to an intricate snare, caught red-handed. If there was a hint of sensible mercy to be found, even a morsel of it, she would have felt it. But the feast was swept bare and clean of its dining, and the leftovers were fed to dogs. There was nothing left for her to provide or to be provided. The clock struck the hour, and the bell has rung.
âI would have commended you of your effortsâ Ms. (L/N)â if you had not made them so dire,â it was the one voice in the world that truly distraught her to the thicket of her bone. It was treacherous and inhuman, yet the words conveyed were distinct and concise. Sharp rests and lingering pauses almost felt like notes he stalled to scrutinize her immediate appearance. The verdict of her survival was held just out of reach. He affirmed no wish in addressing her toll just yet, unclear of whether it was by his executive behalf or of his intimate muse. The air sucked itself out of the room she stood in and emptied into the vacuum of vacant space. Everything around her engulfed into his dark umbra until there was nothing that could be defined in its shade, left to wander the void that was his home. A peculiar miasma of weariness seeped through her head as if sheâd traveled infinite miles to the sun and back in the period of only a few seconds.
âThe apprehension inside of you seems to⌠undervalue the adverse circumstances you have spawned for my employers,â the judge of her fate articulated, looming right behind her shoulder and taunting to her ear, speaking towards the left yet hearing⌠and feeling it through her right. She refused to move even a modest length by her heel. His chest ever so slightly pressed against her shoulder blades, wrenching her guts inside out with a raucous, shuddering wheeze she didnât realize she let out. An inadvertent rush of alarming rapture jolted through her veins to back away, but she dared not move from where she was. A rasping, malevolent snicker escaped his lips, casually leaning away from her in order to circle forward to where she stood at her front. An act of relishing meaning so little to a predator yet so much to prey.
She found that his footsteps were so consistent with themselves to the extent that he must have attained more value in studying his own rhythmic pace than he found in her character at all. The internal trembling sensation clattered her to the gist and stripped to the outer skin for him to see as distinguished as the illuminating ebony of a harvest moon.
The pale of his facial grimace rooted to the palms of his wrists, gently stroking between each other in the suspense for something heâs been waiting to ascertain this moment for a massive remote age of his time. He paused himself to contain his thoughts as he stopped in front of her line of sight. He has never presented himself in further immediate, direct influence and control over an individual than he has now.Â
âThey have entrusted of me to, do away of your presence by means without authoritative jurisdiction. Your performance of deviance, although admirable, has dragged you into a pit of⌠profound consequence Iâm afraid I cannot assist in leverage,â her form was laughably dwarfed by his size, forcing her to crook her head almost up to the ceiling to face his gleaming turquoise eyes if she tried with the petty vitality of courage she had. Her teeth chattered like drums in her head at the fleet tremolo of her anxious respiration. A forced retreat of a foot from behind her settled no advanced measure away from him as he stepped forward in his satin Oxfords. The tender pat of his footwear solely was audibly louder than her own panting gasps, forwarding the coercion held inside her chest at a knife on oneâs throat. The single act alone was enough to split her emotional cage into two.Â
An intangible energy hauled the pitiful martyr to her knees as her legs melted away into the water of her coaxing tears. A trivial act of mourning for empathy, something heâd never undergone from a hire before. The soft gleam in his sea-green optics repulsed attentively, examining the display before him as all but a licensed dismissive, yet intriguing in the slightest. A meager hum encapsulated through his senile throat as he arched himself over her cowering, diminutive form. From her perspective, stating it was too close for her alluring amenities would be an exceeding understatement.
As his profile drew near, the touch of chilling hoarfrost punctured at her skin. His navy executive attire exalted the enigmatic aura which seemed to timelessly encapsulate him like a dense, secluded bubble sheâd crossed within. The bitter draft nearly congealed her watering eyes into place, but just enough to steady their progress down her swollen jowls. She scorned to gaze directly at him by her own will, bestowing upon him the scarce sum of rebellion she had left inside her wilted core.
âSuch a delicate spirit couldnât bear the rash opposition of your careless actions,â his head tipped to its side, treating himself the manifestation of sympathy with tenacities as genuine as a puppet show. He leisurely delivered forward his chilling, ivory hand, relaxing the flat edge of his knuckle hinges below her jawline. A maneuver avowed so benevolently, yet the intention concealed beneath its tender surface did anything but console her situation. She seized a rigid swallow lighter than a feather caressing the draft of the area around them. Every hint of muscle movement endeavored to hinder less than a single spark from igniting a harrowing fuse. She nudged his hand away out of mortification to draw herself back, only to be promptly tailgated by the fleeting switch of a fixed, almost painful grip on her chin. He could press the flustered clatter of her teeth against his fingertips, a noticeably venerable appearance of his exposed features formulating a benign yet sinister grin.
âI would consider yourself of good fortune, Ms. (L/N), as my employers are not so tolerant of hires as I am myself⌠Perhaps this brief exchange between us will formally bestow your place,â as he expressed his honest ambitions towards her, he slowly mounted his hand against her mandible, raising her head up to his for a face-to-face discussion. As a genuine nexus clasped between their two lines of sight, his eyes flashed in tone once again, locking her in a trance that confined her of any moveable suspension. It was as if she was staring into the eyes of a living sleep paralysis demon from her childhood, somehow impossibly more menacing than its form of a dark, slim silhouette; A devilâs advocate, now free of his fiery shackles and roaming autonomous of hellâs cavity.
âI cannot withdraw your line of hire unobstructedly without a form of, wellâ discipline, for the mess of work youâve caused,â the faint graze of his chuckle against her face twirled her locks of hair as it did her sense of sanctuary to smothering extents, choking it dry of whatever was left of it in her prior. Every hint of forthcoming inclination directed towards her was cunning and calculated. No matter how she attempted to crook and tie her path for herself, he knew precisely where and when to take her to reach his desires from each stray she exerted.Â
Softly, she clenched her eyelids shut as the indivisible set of nerves she had restraint over in her body, thrusting a tear to escape from her swelling socket. Dripping onto the palm of his hand, he was quick to retract his grip in candid wonder. A heavy, deep breath revoked through her nostrils as she exhibited physical control emancipate through her once again, not daring to move in the state he had left her in before. Inspecting what had made contact with his skin, his sneer dissolved into a twitch of his muzzle as the tiny droplet of emotion flowed about the dead facade of his flesh. A melodious hum escaped his lips in consideration, resonating deep in the back of her mind as if it had emitted from all around her. Tilting his wrist at an angle rippled the water away into a state of vapor, sweeping into airâs fluttering garments around them. Lowering his hand, his attention glimpsed back to her, whose eyes were still closed but had proceeded to quiver after gaining control over herself again. Naive and fragile as a newborn, trapped inside a young woman. The body has grown but the nature has not.
A sharp, pitched breath seeped through him as he fixed himself to his proper posture, leaning away from her frightful profile. His eyebrows furrowed into an unapologetic glare, taking a brief time of himself to study her figure from neck to toe. He allowed for hands to gradually drape at his sides, dulling out of her line of sight as he adjusted his tie into place.
âI am sorry to say that I could not find a more suitable place for you to stay without⌠excruciating pain involved and endured. As a consequence, however, your time spent here will transpire much, much longer than you may find solace in,â his omniscient voice spoke around her from every which way she could turn her head. He seemed to peek into a snowglobe housing a poor nuisance inside who could not see him through the glass above.
âI assure you, my dear, this will not be the last time we cross paths. But in the meantime, I have others waiting on my watch I must attend toâŚâ
Sensing a change in presence, she finally peered through to what was in her front line of sight with utmost hesitance in her choice. What was a puffed chest of fear suddenly converged into a sensory overload of confusion. Heâd disappeared, not a trace of him left except for the memory stapled into her head. A quick glance to her back to check her surroundings found him nowhere at any angle of her position. She was truly alone.
It didnât take much for her to jolt for her feet, whoâd solidified the courage to support her weight once again. Her breath was sparse and fleeting as she tried to keep up with its pace, but it felt as if it had been running miles for hours without a chance of letting her ever catch up. Her hands gripped into twitching fists, swallowing a bite of pride she could snatch from the air. Her teeth nearly snapped like twigs as they clenched together in pure and remote agitation. He was playing with her like a childâs Christmas toy. Choking on her own sob, she stuttered to herself the first words she could manage to voice through her lips to him.
âHâ hey! Where did you go!?â her voice cracked on itself as everything began to disintegrate around her into a fretful weep.
They never reached him.
âDonât! Please god donât leave me here!â as her wails left her to dissociate into an empty space, her lips began to tremble. She covered her mouth with the palm of her hands, hiding her disordered lament from a source nowhere to be seen. It was a void hell disguised as her limbo, isolated from all worlds, all dimensions. An empty pocket universe, built as all but a cage that only he had access to. Not even his employers knew of its existence, nor could it ever come of their reach.
The clock struck the hour, and the bell has rung twice. The G-man has woven the toll.
âAre you aware how difficult it is finding good G-man fics?â
My good bitch that is exactly WHY I started writing G-man fics. I searched the internet for DAYS.
I took one goddamn look at that mans face and turned into an insatiable hungry beast. One minute of footage from Half Life Alyx was all it took. After searching and failing I flipped a table and screamed at the heavens IâLL DO IT MYSELF. Couldnât believe that nobody else had really done it why were people sleeping on this man???? Now Iâm here and there is no return. The unforeseen consequences of my own thirst.
A Deal With The Devil |G-Man/Gender-Neutral!Reader|
pairing: g-man (half life) x gender-neutral!readerÂ
(I tried to keep it gender-neutral, but you might get the occasional female pronouns; what can I say? I donât edit my shit)
words: 2,661
warnings: unedited, mild cursing
summary: [y/n], after not having a good day, encounters a strange non-human man, but they arenât as afraid as they are annoyed with him.
notes: wanted to jump into the g-man x reader bandwagon, and this idea has been plauging me since. enjoy!
During the nights when they can't sleep, [y/n] sits out on the rooftops and stares at the star-splattered sky. For every star their eyes isolate in the navy sky, they give it a name. Sometimes they give the stars names like Glados and Wheatley. Other times, the names the stars get are words, some unique like ethereal or onism. Most of the time, however, the names are just words depending on their mood.
And what a shitty mood they're in tonight.
Their eyes land on one star near the center of the sky. It's smaller than the surrounding stars, thus giving itself the name Inferior.
Bang!
Jumping in surprise, their eyes snap to the dark streets below. They see nothingâprobably was an animal, they think in an attempt to calm their pounding heartâbut they move away from the edge just in case. After having a terrible day, adding yet another incident with the Combine is not high on their "most wanted in life" list right now.
Their eyes move back to the white glowing dots in the sky, eyes searching until they stop on another star. This one is dim compared to the others; Unremarkable is the first word to come to mind. Pleased with the name, your eyes search the sky again. The mysterious banging forgottenâ
Crash!
Okay, sounds like someone's breaking into a window. [y/n], despite her caution, moves to the edge of the rooftop. The breaking glass sounds close, but what if it's just an echo? Swallowing the rising fear in their throat, they back away from the edge. They make sure to grab their pistol as another "just in case" moment. Just in case someone breaks into shelter while they sleep.
The day was bad enough already, comes the thought, this might as well happen.
Just as they are about to climb down through the hole in the roof, a flash of blue catches their eye. They freeze, heart lurching to their throat. Then they turn around, eyes darting from each dark corner on the roof. Is someone here? they want to ask, which is stupid all on its own.
They stand there, frozen, as they continue to scour their rooftop and the other rooftops. Did Combine wear blue? No, they didnâtâthey donât have a stylish bone in their bodies. And all the commotion from earlier meant human, or a zombie, was doing something.Â
But headcrab zombies arenât blue, and they arenât fast. And what would a human want with this place, anyway, in Combine Central?
They turn and stare down into the hole, and there it is againâthe flash of blue. Well, not a flash, but they can see the blue. They squint their eyes, noticing half the outline of a shoulder with a pale hand holding . . . a briefcase?
Something about the sight seems . . . wrong. Why?Â
They aim the pistol down, close enough to scare the person away if they pulled the trigger. âWhoâs down there?â They ask, voice echoing throughout the abandoned building.Â
They hear a faint moan from a zombie in the building over, but no response from the person. âGet out of there before I shoot you,â they warn. Still no response.
Then the person moved further into the darkness, shoulder and briefcase disappearing.Â
[y/n] curses and inches closer to the edge. They knock back the hammer and stare into the gaping, black void of the crumbling building. Not seeing anything, not even a dark silhouette, they inch closer. The wood creaks, breaking the tense silence like a jackhammer against concrete. [y/n] holds their breath, praying the flooring keeps.
It breaks beneath their weight.
With a scream stuck in their throat, they canât even think to brace for impact. The wind whips at their face and their eyes water at the intensity. They curl themselves into a fetal position and move their arms to cover their face. Nothing but darkness as they fall down, down . . . down . . . down.
Halting in the middle of a dark void, [y/n] stares agape at the dots moving past them. As if they were in a spaceship and turned on hyperdrive, though in slow motion. They uncurled from themselves. Their feet touch invisible ground and they straighten their spine. They spin around in bewilderment. Is this Heaven or what?Â
Their eyes move from the passing specs of white and stare straight ahead, unable to wrap their mind around this . . . predicament. If they could even call it such a thingâthey could be dead and now wait to face judgement.
Well then.
Then they notice two unmoving specs. They donât dare step closer, unsure if the scene will vanish before their eyes again. They stare right into the white specs, unaware of them moving closer until a wrinkled face pops out into the light from an invisible light source.Â
The bright white eyes dim into a human blue. The creature before themâthatâs not human, itâs not human! her panicked thoughts blareâcontorts its human face into a smug smile. Without breaking eye contact, [y/n] notices the blue suit the man-creature wears, though his briefcase is missing. They know, without a doubt, this thing was trying to get her attention earlier.
Why was he trying to get me to follow him? Â
They raise their hand in an attempt to aim their pistol at them, but they lost the gun. Lost somewhere in this . . . void. Damn, it was my only one, too.Â
Too unnerved to feel an ounce of hot embarrassment, [y/n] steadies their voice as they demand, âWhoâwhat are you?â
âThere are things far more important matters to discuss than whoâor whatâI am,â he says in this voice [y/n] can only describe as Twilight Zone-esque. Not too deep, not too light, but in between, with the odd emphasis on an occasional word.Â
Though theyâd never admit it in her wildest dreams, they found his voice enchanting. And I know Iâm dead because of that thought.Â
They keep their wary gaze on the man as he makes his way closer in a leisure, almost predatory pace. Holy Hell, heâs a giant. [y/n] cranes their neck to keep the unbreakable eye contact, heart pounding in their chest from the proximity.Â
âPlease tell me whatâs important so I donât stray from serious matters,â they ask in a mocking, deadpan tone.Â
Before they can turn around, the man disappears. They frown, annoyance beginning to overtake their fear. If thereâs one thing [y/n] hated more than the Combine, it was when people played cat-and-mouse games, or left them in suspense.
[y/n] does a full spin to catch the sight of his blue suit, but no luck. The moving dots mess with their head, giving them vertigo. They stumble back into something cold and immovable. A wall? But as they spin on their heel, the tall man stares down at them with glowing white eyes.
To show theyâre not intimidated with his overall appearance and abilities, [y/n] sizes him up. They cannot stop the inappropriate thoughts springing in their mind.Â
God Almighty, human or not, Iâd flock to him like flies to honeyâand Iâm definitely going to Hell for that thought.
âYou impress my employers, [y/n] [l/n].â Hearing those odd words, they raise an eyebrow. The man continues. âHowever, IÂ am not quite as impressed.â
Their eyes narrow. âI didnât realize I was working for your approval.âÂ
The man gives them an odd look, one that makes the hairs on their neck and arms stand in aâdare they admit itâa good way. He then claps his hands behind his back and circles around her in his predatory walk. âIâve observed your behavior through various situations. Compared to others Iâve worked with, you are inferior. Your work is mediocre, and overall, unremarkable.â
âTell me how you really feel, and please, donât hold back.â
The man chuckles; [y/n] hates the tiny flutter in their chest as they hear it. âNot to mention your lackluster humor,â he adds to his ever-growing list of their wrongs.
They open their mouth to say their defense, but he turns around. The words falter on their tongue as a more sincere grin graces his wrinkled features. âBut what if we could do better?â
All [y/n] manages out is a faint, âWe?â
âYou see, [y/n], my employers call on me to . . . nudge things from time to time, to get them moving towards a prospective future,â he says, stopping to face them. âAnd you are one of those things.â
They think his words over, but thereâs a small voice in the back of their mind telling them no. They shake their head and say, âWhatever youâre selling, Iâm not buying.â
The man smirks as if he expected their response. His reaction irked, if not excited them. âWhat if I told you I can give you something you never thought you wanted before?â
âThen Iâd tell you youâre full of shit,â comes their mindless answer.
He gives them a small, amused smile. Then a sudden white flash blinded [y/n]. Protecting their eyes, they cover their face with their arm and grit their teeth. The blinding light dims, then disappears. They remove their arm from their face, blinking through the black dots clotting their vision.
The man replaced the slow-moving black void with the environment of a small garage. Their eyes move across the workbench, cluttered with various tools and devices they donât recognize, and to the shelves filled with the other unfamiliar gadgets.Â
Then the door of the garage opens, and [y/n]âs eyes snap to the spot. They suck the air through their teeth in a silent gasp as their eyes land on themselves. Well, their future selves. [y/n] takes in their future and decides they donât like what they see.Â
Their future self is not . . . okay. Worse off than they are now. Skin as pale as the dead bodies littering the streets, protruding bones to give an ill appearance. And those eyes. Thereâs something about those eyes that are . . . of kilter, not right. Like someone tried to remake a replica of [y/n] but messed up somewhere in the process, giving a non-human look.Â
Much like the man next to them when he disappears in the darkness and his eyes glow.
âI look . . . pretty much the same,â they lieâit seems like the right thing to do, not only for the man but for themselves.
Donât let him know you see the cracks through this manipulation . . . whatever it is.
They watch the future them head over to the workbench. They pick up a hammer, and without paying attention, hit at their finger. Cursing, they toss the hammer to the corner and then stick their smarting fingers into their mouth in attempt to ease the throbbing pain.Â
âAnd I pretty much act the same,â they add to their ever growing list of faults, frowning.
They turn and face the man. âI thought you were showing me the thing I never thought I wanted.â They say with a scowl, âWell? Iâm waiting.â
His smug smile returns as he comments, âAn impatient little thing, arenât you?â
[y/n] snaps their face around so the man doesnât see the blush creeping up their face. Â
They continue watching themselves. Their future self walks away from the workbench with a similar scowl and towards a blank wall. Tilting their head, they watch as their future self flicks their wrist towards the wall. A black, liquid-looking circle appears out of nowhere, widening enough for their future self to fit inside without having to slouch.Â
A portal, a goddamn portal!
Without thinking, you run towards your future self. They donât notice their past self. Itâs a vision. Good, comes the strange thought, I can handle all this, but meeting myself is not high on my list. Standing as close as they can get to the portal, they peer inside the yawning circle but see nothing. Their future self passes through them as if they were a ghostâwhich, technically, they were âand disappears into the portal. A second after, the portal disappears with them.
[y/n] pulls away and stares right at the man, who already watches her with a curious expression. Like a scientist watching an experiment he could not predict yet. They clear any expression they have on their face, knowing it wouldnât do any good to be an open book when making a deal with the devil. If there is any deal.Â
But on a minor note, Hell yeah, I want powers.
âSo, you said your employers call you to nudge things to an ideal future. What exactly do I have to do with this future?â They ask, inching closer to the mysterious man.
He doesnât answer her question. Instead, he holds out his briefcase. âAll will be explained in due time, once you take this.â
Somethingâa small voice in the back of their mindâtells them not to take it. Deal with the devil, remember? Nothing good comes out of that. They stare at the briefcase, biting the inside of their cheek hard enough to taste metallic blood. They reach out to take it, ignoring the leering look of the man looming before them.
But then they stop and drop their hand to their side.
They shake their head as they think of their future selfâs appearance. Completely the same, but not quite, erring on the side of a conscious zombie. A puppet for this creature and his âemployersâ, which all but means masters. [y/n] hates zombies not because theyâre flat-out terrifying or annoying to deal with, but because theyâre zombies. No free-will, not anymore.
And if thereâs one thing [y/n] craves more in the world than anything, itâs free-will and the freedom to do whatever they want with it. Authority and slavery can go fuck itself.
âNo,â they tell the man, looking up into his wide eyes, âIâm not taking your briefcase. Take me back home.â
Within a blink of an eye, the briefcase disappears and the man takes [y/n]âs face in his cold hands. He bends his back to get as close to their face as he can. âYouâre a fool if you havenât thought this through,â he says in a low growl.Â
Though he lost his calm, collected composure, and his growl was terrifying, [y/n] is more shocked by the tingling feeling in their chest than anything else. They grab a hold of his wrists and in attempt to keep his hands from squishing their head.
âI may be inferior, unremarkable, and mediocre. Even downright lackluster,â they spit out, then grin as they say, âbut mama hasnât raised a fool.â They pull his hands away from their face and demand, âTake me back home. Now.â
The blinding white light flashes with a vengeance. They cover their face with their arm and wait until the light vanishes.Â
When they remove their arms, they see theyâre back in the building they call a shelter. They turn around and take everything in. Never in their wildest dreams did they think it would be a blessing to be back here, among the rubble and garbage. Then they turn to the area where theyâve made a little makeshift workbench and grins.
They walk over and pick up a small screwdriver fit for electronics. They smack the handle against their palm as they think of their game plan. Make a portal machine, then perfect it into a simple device, like gloves or a gun. Shouldnât be hard, not with all these aliens and their machines hanging around on Earth.
Before they set down and get to work, they spot a flash of blue in the corner of their eye. They angle their head towards the rooftop and see the man stare down at them. His face is unreadable. They wave to him, and he disappears without a wave bank.
[y/n] smirks. Weâll see whoâs a fool, wonât we?  Â
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
stormborns
izzy806
germansingergirl
2087
