RUN, RABBIT, RUN!
▼— Part-Time Psychø AU —▼
Request from @bobrcurwa
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
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⚠️ CONTENT WARNING FOR: ⚠️
Blood
Violence
Animal Death/Cruelty
Gore
(Do let me know any warnings I forgot and any more that should be added. You have been warned!)
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Silence dwelled within the seemingly abandoned headquarters. Everything is dead still and in a state of suffocating tranquility. That is, until a cacophony fueled by a distant struggle blared throughout the building. Glass and metal both clang across the walls and upon the floor by a striking force. A broad, burly man galloped away on all fours from the very calamity that happened by his hands, his bloodied hands.
Heavy panting and streams of drool escaped the villain's snarled lips as he continued his mad dash. His heavy arms carried most of his bodyweight, his lengthy tail helped balance out his sprint. All this explosive energy was swiftly contained when a cylindrical chamber made of unbreakable glass dropped right on top of him. Like a spider caught under a glass cup. His face slammed into the container, body stopping dead in its tracks. Instead of letting himself slide down the chamber and lie in defeat, he took hold of his energy once more and began to scratch and pound on the thick glass.
Deep, powerful bellows that would rightfully belong to any other wrathful beast filled his tubular prison. His breath fogged as he allowed the hollering to rip through him, perhaps as a way to release all of his rage and pent-up energy.
Abruptly, he stopped. Something shifting in the shadows stole his attention. He pressed his face upon the glass, towards the darkness. His nostrils flared like a bull seeing a muleta-waving matador. Baring his sharp teeth, he drawled out. "I SEE YOU."
After an extended pause, a stout figure emerged from the shadows and made himself known. Along with a needle held between his fingers, waiting for skin to plunge its bevel inside. Slowly, his heavy-lidded gaze met with his captured patient's own shielded eyes.
"Larry." Rippen purred through his sneer, lips curling with each syllable. His bloody nails scraped against glass, an ear-piercing screeching followed. "Let me out. Now." He ordered, in an unnervingly calm manner.
"Are you going to let me shoot you up?" Larry raised a scarred brow, along with the needle. Low rumbles rolled from within the other man's throat in protest, his teeth still put on disrelished display.
"You need this." Larry urged.
"The poison burns, starting a trail of sparks that follow veins traveling under my skin. Little threads keeping my body stitched together." He was muttering drivel once again, nothing new to Larry. Remembering a time that Rippen truly believed for a while that he was an animal made of fragile glass. "You wish for me to unravel?" He stressed. That crooked grin of his faltering at the mere thought of this supposed 'unraveling' that would occur.
His minion huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's a simple vaccination. Now, stop being a feral mutt and take it—or else." He waved the needle around as he drew closer to the villain, threatening him.
"I am a purebred—you bootless lackey!" The trapped man hissed, thumping a fist against the see-through barrier. Further staining it with blood, alongside the scartch marks that trickled down the glass. Larry stopped in his tracks and looked down at his shoes, confused by that statement. He shook himself out of that train of thought. He shouldn't be so taken aback by that psycho's nonsense. What did make him pause was when Rippen's voice faltered. "Just ask Mama and Papa..."
Regardless of the fact that those glasses sealed away Rippen's blood red eyes, Larry could undoubtedly tell that whatever death stare he had before vanished just like that toothy smile. Even if it was just for a moment.
"Rippen. You need this." Gesturing with the needle, containing only stabilizing substances. "You need your meds." He hoped that, somehow, Rippen would uncharacteristically agree and do as he's told. But, of course, he just stood there silently. Larry glanced down at his dominant arm, eyes gliding down the fresh claw marks that now adorned it. His sights returned, and he let out a sigh. "Just... work with me here."
Rippen only answered with a flare of his nostrils. He turned around and sat on the ground, waiting. As if being patient for a few minutes would let him off the hook for 'good behavior' or something along those lines. Catching his finger in one of his looped piercings that were embedded near the tip of his tail, keeping himself entertained in the meantime.
Now, Larry could flood the container with an anesthetic agent and knock the brute out. But that'll just snowball into a whole other situation once Rippen awakens, him inevitably getting upset and smashing things. Throughout the week, he noticed Rippen's declining mental state, well, a sharper decline. Becoming more moody, restless, and monstrously destructive. His blood intake was steady, and yet, he dared bite the hand that fed him.
He wouldn't lie. It took him an embarrassingly long time for everything to click within his mind. In his defense, he'd been occupied with some... projects. Nothing Rippen needed to know at the moment. The answer to his current woes was relatively obvious: the predator wanted fresh prey.
Larry turned around and began to climb up the spiraling stairs, atop of which, an imposing machine loomed over the already short man. Intensely bright screens blind any unprepared eyes displayed worlds scattered across the multiverse, flashing buttons littered upon the MUT's control panel. He placed the needle down and skittered his fingers over the buttons, clicking and clacking in rapid succession. He was on the hunt for a suitable target.
Worlds upon worlds glazed over his specs, many falling to the wayside, others garnering mild interest. He needed someone not so easily slain but also not someone impossible to kill. No, he needed someone perfect, and out of the trillions upon quadrillions of options, he landed on the perfect prey. It was an odd choice considering his recollection of that place.
A slew of memories tied to a past lifetime, he'd almost long forgotten flooded his mind. He stewed in those bygone thoughts and moments. He stared into one of the screens that only showed a blackened void, staring back at him. It struck a chord deeply within him: it was himself. Yet it felt like focusing in on a stranger. He swore he heard distant, familiar laughter... somewhere. It made the scar that trailed over his scalp sting and itchy.
He shunned his sights away from his reflection and back on the target, simply living in that little world of its without worry or strife. Not for long. With a pull of the largest switch on the panel, that innocent creature was about to experience a hellish nightmare beyond its wildest imagination.
Torn away from it's peaceful nap under a tree and dragged into their wretched dimension with a fiery ZAP. Panic and confusion contorting its furry face. Rippen whipped his head towards the portal and sprung to life, eager to feed upon the interdimensional animal. His prey for the evening was a grossly enlarged, anthropomorphic blue rabbit. Although, to Larry's surprise, it wasn't as large as he thought it'd be. Only reaching the height of a bulky recliner. All that muscle made his stature very deceiving.
The machine's beam powered off mid-zap, leaving the rabbit to crash down onto the platforms. It's scurried around, trying to stand back up. Beady eyes darting in every direction, swiveling around in it's sockets, bulging out of them even. Those long, floppy ears were pinched back in terror of this odd situation.
The minion presents himself from high above the two, the rabbit finally having a face for his abductor. "Now... let's play a game, shall we?" He announced, pausing for any objections from the animal. Rippen's pointed ears perked up, a ghastly grin sprawled across his bearded mug. His tail flickering in anticipation.
"If you catch this poor rabbit in five minutes, before I open the portal—only then are you no longer obligated to take the vaccine. How does that sound? Fair?"
"Fairer than a fairy." Rippen hummed, his tongue grazing over his fangs. The gears behind his eyes, the ones that still work, were juddering to life and generating all sorts of twisted ways of slaughtering the animal. His stare was glued onto the poor thing, burning into its very soul.
"Good. Let the hunt begin."
The barbaric lagomorph flattened its body so closely to the platform. He looked as if he could be mistaken for roadkill. Very soon, if caught, that description would be a more pleasant outcome. Rippen, on the other hand, was practically a starving tiger behind the metaphorical cage's bars, pacing in his limited space. So tight that his tail was gliding against the glass, his piercings clanking with each whack of its pointed end. He was waiting for the opportunity to pounce and tear this creature apart.
"—After a sixty second head start."
A low growl of displeasure rumbled behind the glass at Larry's derision. Larry's subtle smirk was met with daggers staring into his eyes, courtesy of the blood-starved man. Even if he couldn't see those rubied eyes, he could feel them, cutting into him. Which in turn, made him feel all the more powerful, having control over such a beast.
Yet, after the moment passed, the rabbit was still there. Flat on the floor, and it's stare not straying from the strange man. Possibly the very first human it's ever seen.
Larry rectified this awkwardly silent situation by slamming his hand down on a random button. A blaring alarm and flashing red lights filled the strange space it was trapped in. The plan to scare the rabbit into a chase was successful. Startling it to life, legs jounced and carried the beefy thing into an arbitrary direction. Towards an open door to the building's basement.
On the other hand, the loud noise and flashing lights really ticked Rippen off, sending him closer into a frenzied state. All the while giving him higher chances on winning this little game, not between predator and prey, but master and monster.
Larry still had the choice to gas him and stick him with the needle. He didn't have to entertain this. Another step he could take to end this neverending cycle was at his fingertips. There was no where Rippen could go. He could kill him. With a switch, Larry could release him. With one button, he could make him fall into a deep slumber, and the other button, he can make sure he never wakes up again. It would be peaceful, an ending that Rippen deserves. A peaceful rest...
.
.
.
He flipped the switch and watched as his actions come to fruition. The barrier between Rippen and the rest of the world was shattered when it rose, leaving him fully able to complete his mission for the day: feed.
And feed he shall. He didn't even waste time on waiting for the container to fully be removed from his path, quickly scurrying beneath it and just as quickly getting stuck due to his busty chest. He thrashed around violently, waving his arms over to scratch at the bottom until it lifted high enough for him to squeeze out. Switching from his back to his arms and legs, he scurried once more. Rapidly picking up the pace towards the door that let his prey escape him.
Ungracefully, he flew down the basement stairs, smashing his face and body over the concrete floor. Drips of blood descend from his nose to his upper lip, impulsively, he ran his tongue across it and stole a taste. His own metallic tanginess wasn't enough to satisfy him, but it was enough to fuel him.
Taking in the surroundings, he heard thumping steps bolting in a far-off direction. The sound echoed in his ears alongside pained panting spurting from the poor, fearful animal. Only enticing him more. He could feel the rabbit's veins under his teeth, pumping that oh so delicious crimson stream. It made his teeth itch.
Rather than rushing towards the source, he decided to be stealthy. Impatient as he is, it would be completely worth it to get the upper hand. Unseen by his prey until it was too late, watching as the hope in its eyes faded away as the predator got the jump on it. The scenario made him smile from ear to ear, almost letting a witchy cackle flee his lips. But he snapped his mouth shut. Wouldn't want to alarm his kill too soon, now would he?
Tactically, he moderated his steps and slinked close to the shadows. The farther he went, the more that infernal alarm subsided, giving volume back to his inner thoughts. Thoughts only whispering promises of blood-drenched debauchery and a brand new fur coat, or perhaps, a cozy blanket.
The rabbit had other plans, surviving and escaping were the main goals. His mind was racing along with his legs, thoughts flying by like whistling wind between his ears. Where was he? What are those creatures? Why were they doing this? And most importantly... will he make it out of here? Hopefully, the answer was yes.
At first, he considered turning around and facing his foe. He was a barbarian leader who had won numerous battles with his army, after all. Along with many one on one fights. But this... creature was different. He didn't recognize the species, so he had no list of weaknesses to use against it. The sheer size of it was greater than a wolf and seemingly more rabid than any feral savage he's come across. So hand to hand combat was out of the question unless he found a weapon. Only then will he reconsider.
The second option wasn't terribly favorable, but it's all he could do for the moment. Which was outrun the predator until he could find a way out. Dodge and weave any attack thrown his way. It's not a great position, but hey, he didn't ask for any of this in the first place, so running is what he's sticking to for the time being.
If only there was some way to put an end to this hunt as soon as possible. There will come a time, possibly very soon, his energy will diminish and more than likely, at an inopportune moment that'll cost his life. Something that would hinder its chase, like a trap of some sort—that's it! That glass tube thingy! That was the golden ticket! All he had to do was circle back, make it up the stairs, and then make the thingy come down! Yes, that shouldn't be too difficult... right? No. Nothing will stand in his path towards freedom.
Step one to getting past the feral: Locate it. He took a calculated risk and stopped in place, giving him a better chance to listen and pinpoint where it was, while also giving him time to rest up and recharge for some needed energy.
Slowing down his pace to a halt, the rabbit's ears rose to attention. Listening for any sounds, something out of place. The musty scent of mildew that filled the basement wasn't helping his concentration in the slightest. But to his surprise, his twitching nose caught something before his ears.
He gave his nose a few more wiggles just to be sure. His eyes searched all around him but nothing to back up his senses. Where's it coming from? Was he not the first?
Why does he smell... blood?
The scent drew his eyes toward the pitch shadows, too dark for his keen sight. He stared into the void for a sound, movement, anything to tell him he wasn't crazy. And then, he heard it. A single drop of mysterious substance splashed onto the concrete floor, echoing in his ears like a wave from a receding tide. His ears pricked up. He was completely and utterly still.
He should have been nothing but a poof of dust. But he wasn't fast enough.
Akin to a prowling panther, Rippen emerged from the shadows with pounce and dug his claws into the brawny critter's flesh. Squeals of distress did nothing against the beast as he pinned the animal down by the wrists, digging deeper. The mysterious substance was drool that dribbled from the villain's mouth. He was huffing and puffing from all that time he held his breath within the darkness, just waiting for the perfect moment. If only the animal hadn't been stuck in place for so long. What a terrible shame for the poor thing... and what a succulent feast for Rippen.
But the rabbit wasn't going down without a fight. It lashed its ears at his face with the ferocity of a bullwhip. The force knocked his shield glasses across the floor, revealing his wild scarlet eyes.
"It's almost like you want me to go blind!" Rippen barked, spraying some spit on his prey's fuzzy face. He wasn't entirely wrong for assuming that, without those glasses, he could've actually been blinded to a certain degree.
An idea popped into that demented head of his. He wickedly smiled from ear to pointed ear as he jeered. "You know what they say; an eye for an ear makes the world half blind and deaf!"
That poorly constructed rewrite of an old saying went right over his catch's furry, blue head. It didn't matter either way as the crazed man flung his jaw open and clamped it shut around one of those lengthy ears like a bear trap. Blood pooled into his mouth. His tongue was doused in the fluids. It was as if he was consuming the ichor of the very gods. Simply divine.
He must have more.
No.
He needed more.
He needed it all.
The villain's teeth pierced deeper into the flesh, right through the cartilage, and began to pull. The hapless hooper in desperation tried breaking free from his grasp, but to no avail. It could ony shriek in anguish as the deliberately slow torment afflicted all its senses.
All he could see was the rabid, malformed animal's eyes dilating, the shade of red almost becoming more vivid. An overbearing mixture of mildew, blood, and that foul breath stuffed his nose. Forced to feel its talons hooking underneath the skin of his wrists as he struggled against it, along with fangs ensnared with his ear's tissue, puncturing it, tugging it. His keen hearing slowly dissipated. The only sound forced into his canal was his own blood rupturing from his wound. The last thing he'd ever taste was his own blood.
But the last straw in his near-lifeless state was with the final pull. With splatters of blood falling upon his face like a scarlet rain, the sight of his ear torn from his body and the mouth of his hunter, it jump-started something within his chest. Bringing him back to life.
While it chewed up the barbarian's detached ear, he swiftly shifted his legs and moved them to under the predator's abdomen. Letting out a strained war cry, he used his remaining strength to strike his target right in the gut, knocking it far from him and against the wall with a loud THUD.
It gave his captive just enough time to get up and zoom far away, adrenaline rushing through its bloodstream. Rippen was discombobulated from the defensive move, especially since it caused the elongated ear to become lodged in his throat. He choked and scratched at his throat, fighting to breathe. After a moment of nearly blacking out from asphyxiation, he was finally able to dislodge it by ripping it out himself. If he took longer to figure that out, he'd be dead on the mildewy floor. How embarrassing would that be?
Rippen wasn't going to let that varmint make a fool of him. He vanished against the shadows once more and treaded quickly, yet quietly. He couldn't let that pest feel any sense of security in knowing his exact location.
The rabbit didn't dare look behind him. He only kept moving forward. He had a finite amount of vigor left. Yet, he planned on continuing his second plan. It's all he could. It'd give him all the time he needed to escape and patch himself up... if he succeeded. Even if a weapon made itself known, he wasn't sure of his battling capabilities. A risk he'll have to take.
That doesn't mean he couldn't keep out of that monster's reach. Either by hiding it or keeping on his person, both would—
"On the farm, every Friday.
On the farm, it's rabbit pie day.
So every Friday that ever comes along.
I get up early and sing this little song~"
Don't turn around. Don't turn around. Do. Not. Turn. Around. All he had to do was ru—
"RUN, RABBIT, RUN, RABBIT, RUN, RUN, RUN~"
Like torn velvet, the voice bellowed in a singsong manner. At first, it was at a distance, but soon, it surrounded him. Encompassing the entire basement, the notes bounced off the walls and rang within the remaining ear.
"RUN, RABBIT, RUN, RABBIT, RUN, RUN, RUN~"
The stairway to freedom was hopped, step by step. The door still open, beckoning him to pass through with lightning speed. And... he was successful. It was almost unbelievable. But it wasn't over just yet. It was time to end this hunt, once and for all.
There were no longer any blaring alarm or flashing lights, thankfully. But, that red, blinding brightness of ethereal light had returned, the very thing that stole him away from his home and tossed him here. Beckoning him to dare come closer.
"Go! Get on the platform—now!" Larry ordered, directing the rabbit from high above. There were only two minutes and ten seconds left, but he didn't care. He needed the animal out.
But to his annoyance, it just stood there, staring back at him with a doltish expression. He kept aggressively pointing at the platforms, hoping the dumb creature would eventually catch on. It did not. It was really trying that man's patience. "I'm telling you! Go there! What? Can you not understand me—"
He answered his own question as he watched his catch hop in the opposite direction. Of course, it couldn't understand him... it was a rabbit. Why did he assume it could speak, let alone understand a lick of what he was saying? He supposed he never thought about the linguistics in interdimensional traveling. Just thinking about all the places he was zapped to make his scalp sting.
While he was distracted, the critter made a mighty leap toward the top of the glass chamber. It wobbled from the newly added bulk. Larry snapped his attention in the same direction, yelling for it to "GET DOWN!"
It didn't listen as it sat up there, waiting. Larry wasn't going to be tolerant of this behavior. He moved to the MUT's control panel and yanked down a lever, gigantic, robotic hands descended from the ceiling, slowly juddering closer to the rabbit. Rust coated the metal, giving way to the idea of how unoptimized the two were. It didn't matter to Larry at the moment. He just needed it to do the one job of snatching.
The villain arose from the stairs, prowling on all fours. He stood up and peeked from the doorway in search of his prey. He continued to mumble the lyrics to his deranged yet fitting song.
"Bang, bang, bang, bang goes the farmer's gun.
Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run, run~"
His unshielded gaze was drawn to the portal. From his mind palace's clock, hanging on the northern wall, he still had time left in his hunt. So why would Larry open it so early? He'll interrogate his minion about that after his meal, of course. Speaking of his meal, he found that it was currently jumping up and down on that accursed glass prison. Perfect. No where to run, no where to hide.
That's what the lunatic thought, foolishly so. This fierce, barbaric leader will take advantage of that foolhardiness. As the savage scuttled over, the rabbit made his move and hoped up and down once again, struggling to knock it down.
Larry figured out what exactly it was trying to do, and he would not let it be. He punched down on a button, sending the arms into high velocity.
In a flash, from memories of his home world flooding mind to tossing those aside for an ingenious idea. All he had to do was be fast enough. He took the leap of faith and hoped out of the arms' crosshairs. Everything felt as it was moving in slow motion as he made his dive. The arms crashed into the container's wired support, separating the suspension between the two. The shorter figure held his head in disbelief, mouth agape. The hunter dashed towards him, planning on pouncing as soon as he landed. Not noticing the giant, glass canister falling down with him.
The beast's bloodshot eyes met with his own beady ones. Pure hunger and bloodthirst encapsulated his stare, but also, desperation. Desperation of a wild animal, just like him. It was clear that it was simply trying to survive, just like him... and he will survive. That warped maw shifted from a toothy grin to despair as its eyes turned upward, at its future demise.
ˏ-ˋ✷ CRASH ✷ˎ-ˊ
When the lagomorph's skull crashed against the floor, all was black. Could this be the end? Death? Was there nothing, only a void awaiting after one's death? No trumpets of ancient pachyderms resounded, but ringing echoed within his remaining ear. Louder and louder it became, seemingly like it was going to split his eardrum.
His eyes fluttered open to a surprising sight. It was his tree, his land... his home. He could finally rest. He just had to reach it. His treacherous journey began when he sluggishly moved his muscular arms, using them to crawl closer to freedom. He saw a mongoose and owl, his friends, searching for him. Grunts and hoots of concern pushed him to move faster. Never looking behind him. Only forward. Only home.
.
.
.
If only he did.
Rippen awoke on the cold floor, miraculously alive. At worst, one foot was crushed beneath his previous prison. But nothing missing. It also meant that it hurt like hell. He whipped his head wildly in every direction in search of the toned varmint. Once seeing it inching closer to the platforms, his sights locked onto it in a fiery fury.
Growls and snarls tore through the man as he writhed around, contorting his body to loosen his foot, but all efforts proved futile. Attempts of lifting the obstacle between prey and predator were just as useless, no matter how much of his strength he put into it. His failures to do this one simple task was clouding his mind with madness. The futility driving him to the point of clawing at his exposed ankle in the hopes of detaching it.
Prying and wrenching
Butchering, chop-chop into cleaving
Slashing to hacking
Mutilate and mangle
Splitting apart
Shredding as tearing
Dismember. Yank off. Amputate. All of it.
I.
Will.
Rip.
The.
Weakness.
Out.
Blood gathered into a puddle underneath his foot, pouring from the open wound now forming. Coating it like slick oil. Enough to aid in the release, painfully allowing him to slide it out. In an instant, he's on his feet, hobbling, but not after the rabbit. It was too far. But instead towards the wall closest to him, where the fire axe and extinguisher were mounted.
He practically threw himself against the wall to grab his desired weapon: the fire extinguisher. Freeing it with a smash of his fist through the glass, furthering bloodying his already blood-drenched knuckles, now with shards cutting into his skin. Grabbing hold of the extinguisher, he returned his gaze back to the crawling critter, aiming.
"I call this one—" He huffed. "—the sister special!"
He arched his back, gripping the extinguisher, drawing back his arms, and flung it in the rabbit's direction. Achieve his goal by conking the poor creature's furry head, stopping it in its tracks.
Hoarse, witchy laughter roared out of him. Abruptly cutting it off by bashing his head through the fire axe's glass case. Shards slicing his head open, more embedded within his skin. Axe in hand, he limped over to his target. Both green skin and blue fur stained with blood, their own, and each other's.
Rippen stood over it in a pained gait. He twirled the axe in his hand as the barbarian's heavy eyelids struggled to open until he caught a glimpse of the malformed animal hovering over him. Seeing not only blood streaming down his face but also tears.
"You know something? You look like an ugly coney I met once. Same grotesque body and ridiculous ears—I mean, come on! Why would a creature need such massive lugholes!?" Rippen gestured at the massive lagomorph before continuing. "I was a weaker thing in those days. A formidable wolf of great power, all encased in fragile glass. Unable to achieve my full potential, always held back."
Twitchs and spasms ripped through his body, but that didn't stop him. His horrid grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he leered down at the poor thing. "But now... now, that's no longer the case. I broke free from those brittle restrains—Yes, the shattered glass did pierce into my flesh, and yes, it did hurt. But that's how the truth is. It reveals. It hurts. It bleeds."
He lifted the axe high above his head, his broad arms wobbling slightly from blood loss. Which made it feel all the more satisfying when he swung the axe's head down, cleaving the rabbit's foot off. Screams of anguish erupted from the unlucky rabbit as it desperately failed to gain any traction.
"And what was the truth?" A clearly rhetorical question, but the rabbit doesn't even understand a single word in his maddening monolog, let alone the concept. Shaking his head, a sinister chuckle left his lips. "You'll never understand."
The weakened animal cried out to his friends, just beyond his reach. He raised a paw towards them, continually wheezing out to them in the hopes they could hear him. Save him. Bring him home. A taloned, bloody finger was laid upon his lips. "Oh dear muscular bunny boy... no one's coming."
The axe rose again, the bloody blade reflecting the desolate state of the once proud leader. His gaze met once more with his hunter's. Previous desperation was now replaced with sickening pleasure. That vile shade of red bled into his own tired stare, watching in anticipation of the big finish. For the light to fade from his eyes. But he shall not grant him the pleasure. Instead, he'll lay his gaze back onto his friends. One last time.
"Nighty night—forever!"
ˏ-ˋ⪼ KER-CHUNK ⪼ˎ-ˊ
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Gore littered the headless body. Innards sprawled upon the floor. Blood pouring from the bodiless head. Rippen's mission was a smashing success on his part as he feasted upon his kill, digging deeper and deeper into the animal's insides, gnashing and slurping up bits and pieces. His gluttonous behavior suddenly ended as he brought his head up from the corpse's nearly hollowed out abdomen.
"Wait..." He muttered, having a realization. "I don't even like animals—stick to my mouth like persimmons. Why am I eating this?"
Before he could sit with that thought, a sharp object was jabbed into his spine. A yelp broke from his throat. He spun around to see Larry withdrawing the needle, the cause of his surprise. "Umm... ow?"
"Was it really so bad?" Larry queried.
Rippen dodged the question by asking his own. "Did you have to cheat?" Audibly frustrated by his minion's meddling. Even if his kill wasn't up to snuff, he still had a right to hunt without any trickery afoot. He would've torn apart the shorter man if he succeeded in sending the varmint back. He was lucky... this time.
"My part in the game doesn't matter. You won." Larry dismissed, not feeling the need to tend to Rippen's wounded ego. He turned away and walked over to the basement before telling him. "Go shower. You reek." It was more of a command than anything else.
"Care to join me?" A sly smile playing on his lips as he cocked his unibrow. He ran his hand through his blood-soaked hair, snagging a finger onto the hair tie and slipping it off. His voluminous mane flowed down to its full length.
A long pause was felt between the two as Larry reached the basement door. "I need to fix your specs." He stated while glaring back.
"That wasn't a no~" He warbled, bobbling his head.
Larry went down the stairs without another word. He wasn't going to play along any longer. He was already pissed off by the whole situation. Especially all the damage it caused, not only to the equipment but to Rippen as well. He fully believed that foot was going to be torn off. Attached or not, he'd inevitably have to patch up the brute. Which he'll do if Rippen comes to him for help. That'll be a few hours from now, knowing that stubborn mule of a man.
Rippen tried to get his attention one more time by hopping on one leg to pick up the oversized, chopped off foot of his prey. "Oi! Wanna lucky rabbit's foot?"
No response.
"Well, I wasn't really offering anyways. I'll keep both." He scoffed. "Wanker."
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After time spent showering, picking glass out of his skin, and the naked escapades that took place in the drying period, Rippen begrudgingly clothed himself and limped about to his hideaway. He had a bed but continuously chose to reside there instead, to Larry's annoyance. When he arrived, it didn't feel the same.
The dead-eyed stares of his family's decapitated heads bore into his very soul. Watching from behind their respective receptacles, suspended in gel that kept them from rotting away. Typically, he wouldn't mind, but now? It didn't feel right to be here. It felt like he was intruding on something. But following the days events, he was so tired. He could either ignore it or...
"I'll be back later." He mumbled. "Goodnight."
So, he'll go bother Larry instead of dealing with the pit in his stomach. Hopefully, it was just all the gamey meat he ate and not any deep-rooted issues burrowing itself into his being. Like a pesky rabbit.
The path to Larry was treacherous with his worsening foot pain, but he'll power through. He's made of pure steel, although he didn't entirely feel that way at the moment. He'll ignore that. The moment he showed up to Larry's work area, he was threatened with a, "You better not be naked." Foosteps alone is all Larry needed to know of Rippen's presence. Also, the fact it was currently just them in the building.
Rippen didn't answer. Simply sauntering over, to the best of his abilities, to the desk Larry was normally seen operating at. But he wasn't sitting in the chair accompanying it. No, he was underneath it. Repairing the damaged spec with miniscule tools, the sight of such instruments amused Rippen. Larry didn't look up from his work. He was swiftly interrupted when Rippen crawled down to the floor and snuck his way into Larry's roomy space, now becoming cramped for the both of them.
"Rippen—" Larry groaned as the larger man curled around him and laying his big, stupid head on his lap. The obnoxiously long tail attached to the oaf wrapping around his crisscrossed legs. Getting in the way of his work and keeping him trapped at the same time? What a bastard.
He resumed the best he could as Rippen observed, oddly quiet the whole time. The silence wasn't unwelcome or anything, just rarely allowed, particularly when Rippen was near. It stayed like that for a couple of minutes.
.
.
.
Alright, that was enough. Larry broke the silence between them. "Had your fun? Enjoy your rabbit?"
Rippen sluggishly looked up at him, clicking his tongue. "It wasn't enough." He paused, licking his chops before starting up again. "I crave something palatable. More scrummy, less animal-y.
"Behave, and you'll be fed properly." Larry snapped back, striking a glare at him to emphasize his point. Rippen shunned his sights away, staring instead at the bandaged arm, collateral damage that started it all. Larry softened his expression, eyes returning to his work. "I know needles are nothing but a nuisance to you, but it's for your own good, and you know it." He knew that Rippen had that knowledge somewhere in the back of his mind. But no matter what, this viscous cycle of whatever they had between them would only continue spinning. Larry just accepted the fact that Rippen will never learn.
But then, he said something rather unexpected. "Where do I start?" He inquired in a lower yet softer tone. Somehow, that deranged look in his gaze were no where to be found. The gentle glint behind his eyes was unmistakable.
Larry took that and ran with it. "You could clean up your mess. That's a start."
Rippen's face twisted into nauseousness. "I don't think I could stomach anymore. I'll vomit all over, and I'm not cleaning that up." His body shifted about as to quell his upset stomach.
"I meant with a mop, bucket, and a couple of trash bags." Larry rolled his eyes.
"I knew that."
Sure he did. Larry mused to himself while tinkering. "If I were a rich man still, I'd hire a janitor." Although the idea of having a potential risk like that around maybe wasn't a great idea. This trigged an impromptu musical performance in a thankfully quieter manner from the villain.
"If I were a rich man.
Dada deeda deeda deedle dada deeda deeda dum~"
The number brought out a smirk from Larry as he listened to the tunes. It wasn't a distracting as he initially thought it'd be, though the wagging tail's piercings clanking in the other hand, he could do without. The tiny tools reminded him of his times spent knitting, perhaps that's why he didn't have too much time handling them. Maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to pick up the hobby again. The thought made his scar itch, using the miniature screwdriver to scratch his scalp.
His attention was drawn to Rippen's injured foot, taking a mental note to deal with that when he's fast asleep. Maybe pump some sedatives into him just to make sure he stays asleep. He could use them for his checkups, but Larry wanted him to be capable of handling it without sedatives. Why take the easy way? Why not make everything a tad more difficult for both of them?
It didn't matter at the moment. Something broke his thought process. Footsteps... coming towards them, along with the jingling of keys. Rippen curled tighter around his minion as his eyes grew wider in anticipation. Larry settled a hand upon his villain's head, feeling the freshly washed, silky hair under his touch. It felt like all the air in the room was sucked out, forcing them to hold their breath as the steps drew closer until... it stopped. Heavy boots in view.
The figure bent down and peered under the desk. It was Phyllis, and she wasn't happy in the slightest.
Larry opened his mouth. "Oh—"
Rippen finished his sentence. "Fu—"
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