In honour of getting accepted to my Uni course (!!!) - English/Creative Writing based - I want to post one of my short writing pieces here to see how people like them.
You can find me on AO3 here, but I've only got 1 other of these short pieces atm, plus a longer OC based fanfic only like 4 chapters in. All Outlast right now too but I'm planning on doing some DC or maybe even some original stuff too!
Anyway, enjoy:
MK: Forgive the Government (Or "Musings on the Effectiveness of the Criminal Justice System")
Otto + Arora Kress
Summary: A reagent's Custom Trial finds the mighty Buffalo Minotaur in the underbelly of the Police Station, alone together with their thoughts (including, but not limited to: how much they hate the cop...and themselves).
CW: Otto and Arora are their own warning, referenced brother/sister incest, the neckussy, dubious fingering of neckussy
"Why are we hiding down here? Hunched in the dark and the cold like...like rats. Pitiful rats. We don't deserve to be stuck here-"
Arora's raspy complaints echo around the confined walls of the police station basement, along with the buzz of her dear brother's saw. Not their usual hunting grounds, as she had consistently proclaimed. It was filthier, and dingier, so...basal. An almost amusing facade of a setting of authority, if they weren't the ones crouching through the rotting doorways. They knew what real authority was, and this police officer's wet dream did not measure up.
"I'm aware, sister. But...it seems the law enforcement needs our help once again. Can't...trust them to enforce social order on their own."
Otto's attempt at reassurance was by no means the first time he had reminded his sister of their...less than desirable situation. He didn't like the cop; a sweating, seething, self-important half-a-man who chased after those deviants like a hunting dog, thinking with his cock rather than the supposed "iron fist" of the law. An insecure type, that much was certain. And when the law is in doubt, who do they turn to? The governors. The politicians. The ones who make his beloved laws and hold them fast. That's who truly had control over the nation.
"Can you hear it, my love?" Otto continues through strained breaths, ever the optimist to his sister's concerns.
"If only those geniuses behind the glass made it easier for us to see down here..." comes the response, and it's familiarly sour tone, "And no. Not over that...thrumming beast of yours, your great brute."
Otto heaves his chest in a heavy chuckle. Whether his sister was earnest or simply toying with him, it wasn't quite clear. Still, he lowered his saw a fraction.
"Did they tell how many were hiding down here, sister? I'd hate to be chasing shadows all this time. A waste of the government's effort-"
She interrupts promptly, "Just one, lover." A brief silence between the two, filled by the buzz of the saw, and the hefty weight of Otto's polished boots. "Makes me wonder if it has a death wish, if it chose to have us down here with it-"
Her brother could feel another of her morbid rants coming on. The ones that usually end with her alikening herself to a vile parasite on his back to be euthanised. He swiftly jumps in to cut off the train of thought. "Or a challenge. Those deviants are growing braver, dearest. We may be becoming less of a force of threat and...more of a means for target practice."
A gloved hand reaches up over his starched shirt collar, gloved fingers large but gentle in their touch as they feel that familiar, sacred skin behind his ear. Where two become one.
"You're lucky, my love... that I'm the greater target," Otto murmurs, fingers pressing into the skin with a tenderness reserved for private moments. He can almost feel his sister purring in response to the sensation. "I'll tear them apart before I let them hurt you. Remind them who holds the authority-"
"Jesus Christ, you're sounding more like that cop every day," Arora responds bitterly, although not without an audible whisper of teasing. "You've picked it up whenever you start feeling...hm, passionate."
"I am passionate. About you, my love. And our nation. We carry it to greatness together...and strengthen it together-"
"-Cut away the fat...the no-good, lazy vagrants-"
"And in this place," Otto mutters, catching his breath at he picks up his sister's sentiment. With some reluctance, he pulls back his touch from their shared skin to strengthen his hold on the thrumming saw. "...these low-life deviants-"
-SMASH!
The quiet rasp of his voice dies - the silence shattering along with a glass bottle upon its impact - as he stumbles, his priority keeping Arora steady upon her perch. His sister is already braced for confontation, a vial of her own brand of bottled agony already soaring into the darkness in retaliation.
She murmurs with barely contained relish, "I knew there were rats down here." Her silken gloves trace Otto's heaving shoulders as he recovers from the ambush. The promise of the touch wandering further down should they succeed in the hunt. "Crush the pitiful little thing, Otto."
"You...know me too well, sister dear." And he manages to reassert his stance before thundering down the frustratingly dark halls of the station basement. Now that he's honed in, he can hear it: rapid, shallow breathing in the darkness. Panic. They're on its tail, and there's little place to hide from them.
Mommy needs you to do something about all the corpses stealing the bugs. Do something. Now. Mommy is upset and angry 😖🐦
This is so not my department of expertise...
Maybe you could.. dig through the bodies? Might have to get your hands dirty, but I'm sure you don't mind! A mother would do anything for her children, right?
No one should ever let Scarfiotti design anything. These trials are logistical nightmares. You ever stop and think about the fact we've gotta inoculate pig heads with flies every couple days? Yeah. Bad bad bad. I've never hated anything more than Murkoff acquisitions.
Since you seem to hate them so much, I'll go ahead and forward your message to Moses himself! Aren't I so nice?
