So, um... I’m a bit pissed off. Just woke up at 2am to my parents freakin out, cause some dickbag hooligans stole our next door neighbours car!! Not only that, but they also broke the lock of my own car, which I had only JUST FIXED from when they attempted this last week!! GGRRRRRR!!!!!!!
I needed something to do to get rid off the stress and anger I got here, so I wrote this. Warning: crushing with no death, fear, angry Jason. Has a nice ending, though.
‘I think we’re being watched.’
His partner scoffed as he pried the window open, sending the younger boy a flat look.
‘Why did I get stuck with the paranoid rookie?’ He demanded quietly, slipping inside the building. The rookie huffed angrily, sending quick glances at the trees around him. He didn’t like the woods. There were too many places for unsavory things to hide. He didn’t appreciate his partners total disregard towards the dangers the dark woods posed, either.
He also didn’t like how noisy the man was being inside the house. They had both been from the city, where silence was paramount to a successful hit. But ever since the invasion, they had been driven out to the country. His partner was getting arrogant with the knowledge that there were no neighbors close enough to spot the thieves. But the carelessness was getting on the rookies nerves.
Snap!
The rookie gasped, spinning to look out in the dark. The trees were swaying slightly in the wind, and he couldn’t pinpoint the source of the sound.
‘We need to leave!’ He called into the window, hoping his partner would heed his warning. There was some shuffling, then his partner threw a large, full sack out to him. The rookie fumbled with the bag, startled over the sudden throw, almost dropping it in the process. The older thief laughed heartily as he vaulted out of the building.
‘Calm down. No ones around!’ He said, snatching the bag away from the rookie and beginning to walk away.
‘That doesn’t mean you can just act so rashl- oof!’
The older thief spun around, hand on his knife in an instant. It took him a moment to make out the rookie’s thrashing form a few feet away. A huge... thing, was resting over him, keeping him pinned to his stomach. He was thrashing wildly, begging to be let go.
‘Get off him!’ The thief demanded, brandishing his knife threateningly.
Suddenly, the sack over his shoulder was violently ripped away from him. He spun around to face his assailant, ready to attack if need be.
He ended up freezing in place. He felt as if all air had been crushed out of him. His face was slightly illuminated by a strange purple hue, revealing his panic-stricken face. The sack was hovering in the air, held securely between what looked like two giant ghostly fingers.
‘You really should have listened to your friend, mate.’ A booming voice said from above. The thief flinched, looking up, and up, and up. A gigantic hooded figure was sitting at the edge of the trees, one hand glowing with the same aura that had claimed his sack, the other effortlessly holding down the rookie. He could only see one eye, which was lit up with a violet flame.
It was a shifter!
The thief scrambled back, losing his footing as he did so. The shifter smirked, leaning forward slightly. The thief dashed to his feet and sprinted for the trees. If he could get out of the open, maybe he could escape capture. He couldn’t get caught. He couldn’t go through the torture of being claimed, like the stories said.
‘Now, now, where do you think your going?’ The shifter tsked, and suddenly he was in the air. He cried out, looking at the ghostly fingers that had snagged the back of his shirt. Wind whipped around him as he was brought up to the giant’s face. It looked him over curiously, head cocked to the side. But he wasn’t sure if it really saw him. It felt as if it were judging him... and found his worth lacking.
‘You know, I really don’t like thieves.’ The shifter said, a hand reaching out for the thief. He stiffened, waiting for the being to kill him in one move. But all it did was grab him, two fingers pinching his torso.
‘What were you even after?’ It asked, the sack suddenly raising into the air and opening, the stolen goods spilling out into the open, ‘These guys don’t exactly have a lot worth stealing.’
The thief frowned at the being. It was almost as if the giant knew the targets. He watched as many items began swirling in the air. Silver utensils danced around, with old fur blankets littering around them.
Then something golden glinted in the light. The shifter frowned, waving its hand to make the items move out of the way. Now it could see a small painting, with a golden frame. It was old, covered in grime, and the thief had almost missed the surprisingly valuable item. The image itself, of a couple and their small child, was unimportant.
There was a low growl. The thief looked over at the shifter. He whimpered as he saw its eyes glowing red in the dark. It looked down at him, and he wished he could make himself disappear.
‘Big mistake, mate.’ It hissed.
The fingers pinching his chest suddenly tightened, and the thief gasped as the air left his lungs. His ribs creaked, and he was frightened that they would snap. He could hear the rookie crying below, getting similar treatment from his position on the ground.
‘I-I’m sorry!’ The thief gasped out, coughing at the effort. The shifter smiled cruelly, and he could have sworn he could see vines of black lasing those eyes.
‘Oh, you haven’t even begun to feel sorry yet.’
Gods, I’m going to die!
‘You sure it was okay to leave your... friend, on his own?’ Randy asked, eyeing his cousin critically. Takota just laughed his concern off, readjusting his hold on his basket full of bread and fruit.
‘What? You think he’s going to go around enslaving and killing people?’ He asked.
‘He’s a shifter,’ Randy deadpanned, ‘It’s what they do.’
‘Oh, calm down. He isn’t like those-’
‘No! STOP!’
The two froze at hearing the fearful cry. They looked at each other, then towards where the family summer home was. Takota dropped the basket, much to Randy’s chagrin, and began sprinting towards the sounds. Randy tried to keep up, but his tiny, once incapable cousin, was already far ahead. When did he get so fast, Randy wondered.
Takota skid to a stop once he was down the path. He was not pleased with what he saw. A young man was trapped in a purple bubble, balancing precariously on a branch in a nearby tree. He seemed to have been crying for some time, barely able to stand in the small ball.
‘Shifter, stop!’ He yelled, but almost fell from the tree in his attempt to shout.
Said shifter was ignoring him, leaning against a nearby tree. His hands were held up, looking almost as if he were playing with some purple string. But on closer inspection, a figure was convulsing in the middle of the string. The nonchalant smile on the giants face was almost unnerving.
‘Please...’ The trapped man begged as a finger twitched, causing his arm to twist uncomfortably.
‘JASON DRAX METETTA!!’
The shifter flinched. All three turned to Takota, who stood with hands on his hips as he glared up at the giant and his two prisoners. He was a truly imposing sight, all five foot of him.
‘Oh... hey, Mouse.’ Jason greeted quietly, sounding very unsure of himself. Takota continued to glower, and the giant began to shift nervously.
‘I thought you and Randy wouldn’t be back til lunchtime?’
‘What is this?’ Takota demanded. The shifter coughed, his hands lowering, but he didn’t release his catch.
‘Jason, you can’t just go around doing this!’ Takota continued, crossing his arms crossly, ‘This is not what a Mandimal does!’
‘They deserved it.’ He defended weakly. Takota raised an eyebrow.
‘And what, pray tell, is worthy of this?!’ Takota demanded.
‘They were robbing you.’
‘And that deserves possible dismemberment?’
‘I wasn’t gonna-’
‘And scarring for life?’
‘Hey, come on-’
‘How long have you been-’
‘Takota!’ Jason yelled, causing his prisoners to cower in pain as their eardrums threatened to burst. Takota flinched at the noise, but he’d grown used to the booming voice. He shut his mouth, glaring daggers at the shifter.
‘Look.’ Jason continued, motioning towards the wall of the building. There was a lot of old cutlery on the ground, and some old fur blankets.
Then he saw the picture frame that was leaned against the wall, with the cleanest of the blankets draped over it to keep it safe. Takota walked over and pulled back the fabric, taking a look at the painting. Two smiling people were holding a grinning child in their arms, the essence of a happy young family.
‘That’s you and your parents, right?’ Jason asked, then shrugged, ‘I’m sorry. I just...’
‘Put them down.’
The shifter hesitated, then slowly held his hand down to the ground. The purple ropes dissipated into the air, and the man slid off and into the grass. He scrambled away from the towering creature, but Jason was already ignoring him, turning to the rookie that was still stuck in the tree.
Takota walked over to the man as he struggled to get to his feet. He grabbed his hand, helping the man steady himself. Out of the two, he was much worse for wear. Takota assumed that the young man in the tree was likely a lookout, while the man gasping next to him was the one to actually do the stealing.
‘Oh Gods... thank you!’ He gasped, wrapping Takota in a revealed hug. He didn’t understand how this child was able to command a shifter, but he was relieved to have been released.
‘Don’t thank me,’ The boy said, pushing him off, ‘I just wanted to deal with you myself.’
‘Wha-’
The boy suddenly kicked him in the gut, driving the air out of him and aggravating his already dark bruises from a night of rough handling. When he doubled over, the boy, with a strength that his small frame should not have held, punched him in the nose, and the man was thrown off his feet. It had barely been a second of movement, and he was on the ground, unconscious, with a bleeding nose.
‘Woooo!’ Jason cheered, the younger thief still in the bubble in hand. He was grinning like an idiot, eyes beaming.
‘Good to see that training’s doing some good!’ He said, gently squeezing the ball to pop it. The young man stumbled in the hand as he lowered it, then scrambled off to get to his partner. Takota glared down at him, and despite the fact that the young man was easily half a foot taller, he cowered back. There was something off about the boy, an assurance of his own abilities.
The shadow of the shifter behind him may have had something to do with it, too.
‘Get out of here!’ The boy growled, and the rookie didn’t waste a second in dragging his unconscious partner away.
Randy got to the house just as the thief was limping away. He saw Jason sitting to the side, silently watching Takota as he carefully picked up his families portrait. It didn’t take long for him to connect the pieces, and he grimaced.
‘Is it okay?’ He called out, shifting to have a better hold on both baskets of food. His cousin sighed, but nodded.
‘It hasn’t been damaged, thankfully,’ He said, sending Jason a grateful look, ‘I’ll... go put this back inside.’
Once alone, Randy quickly walked over to the shifter. The two were still stiff around one another, especially after their rather rude first introduction. But Randy made an effort to calm his nerves and caught the giants gaze.
‘Hey. Thank you for that,’ He said, nodding towards the house, ‘That painting is all he has left of his parents. Losing it... that would have broken him.’
Jason smiled, absentmindedly reaching to the necklace around his neck.
‘I understand the importance of keepsakes,’ He said, smiling slightly, ‘I couldn’t just let him lose it.’
Someone out there might see this but I’m in my feels and need to get it out. It’s very putty me sounding but I can’t help the feeling it’s nagging feeling. Maybe it’s because I still like this person or how much I feel but, I feel like an after thought to some people. I ask if it’s okay we can talk they reply sure and are we talking no it feels like I’m easy to ignore. I post stuff in my group chat, they ignore it. I tell my friends I’m here if they need me, they never do. I try my best to be a good person to smile and act like I’m okay but, I’m hurting cause I feel like they don’t really care about me. That they aren’t really interested in me or my conversations that I’m no good and that I’m nothing but an idiot for even trying. My very first friend left me and didn’t say anything to me and my other friends are becoming famous in fandoms that I’m not a part of and seem to enjoy those people better than me. Seems like they are more invested in people that are like them and when I try to make an effort no one cares. Is it wrong for me to feel like I want to be thought of first not just an afterthought. Maybe it’s my fault cause I always crawl back that I always give them attention… Maybe I don’t know anymore. I could just be having a pity party for myself. Just needed to let it out.
Kepp woke with a crushing weight pressing down over his heart. Air forced out of his lungs to leave him voiceless and choking as he trembled. His teary gaze darted around in the darkness, his room cast in shadow and every corner held the possibility of a demon watching him from beyond. With a gasping wheeze, Kepp looked to where his closet met the wall with wide eyes. Nothing waited for him there except for a pile of crumpled sweaters and a stack of books. No shadowed silhouette stared him down, no Hat Man come to call upon him. No demon there to snatch away his soul.
But still Kepp kept vigilance over that corner. His breaths came quicker, shorter as his heart ran rampant despite the heaviness still wearing down on his chest. His vision blurred and he choked on a sob. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t see if he cried and he had to see. He had to watch and wait.
Frozen beneath his bed sheets, Kepp refused to move. Petrified into complete and utter stillness even as he shadows morphed and twisted in the darkness. The shape of his bookshelf and dresser sprouted leaves and sunk roots into the ground, each curling and clawing into air and earth as his bedroom ceased to become a sanctuary. A cold sweat broke over him as snow drifted down from the gaping hole where his ceiling should’ve sheltered him. Instead of smooth plaster, gray clouds gathered high above him, with a gap only big enough for the moon to grin down at him.
He couldn’t stop shaking under its smile, cold as the snowflakes dotting his cheeks and filling the forest his room had become. He’d never left. He’d never left this place. His soul had been claimed and consumed by the night devil who whispered through the trees and left him to die slowly in daydreams of an ideal life.
Of course it was a fantasy. Kepp whined low in his throat, a broken sound that couldn’t quite break through the tightness of his lips. Dampness spilled over his face, tears or melting snow impossible to distinguish. It had never been real, none of it. Nobody cared.
Flynt wasn’t his. He’d just wanted him to be. He wanted the boy he’d met in the afterlife to be the boy he’d lost so long ago. The boy he waited for. He’d wanted it, so he’d conjured up a convincing enough story, timelines bleeding into one, so he could be his age. So he could find him. He had to be stupid to believe that had actually happened. That Flynt had missed him. That he meant so much to him that he’d tried to-
Kepp closed his eyes against the vision of lifeless green eyes as glassy as marbles set in a pale face of ghostly white. “No,” he moaned quietly, hardly above a whisper as tremors shook through him.
His blankets had vanished, his entire room gone and the snowy woods were all that remained. Kepp curled into himself, pajamas growing damp from lying in the snow. It had never been real. Avery didn’t care about him. He didn’t have any friends. His family was better off. Flynt didn’t even care where he was.
Everything was tight, his skin stretched too thin over his body. He couldn’t breathe. He felt cold. So cold. He rolled onto his side, instinctively huddling into a ball when something jabbed his side. He reached beneath him, fingers closing around a small rectangle. His cell phone.
Kepp’s breath hitched as he pulled it free, gasping frantically as he flipped it open to search his contacts. His friends were there. Tess. Trevor and Isabel. Lottie. Flynt. Kepp wept openly as he texted him.
Flynt?
The clock on his phone read a quarter past four in the morning, one-fifteen for his boyfriend on the west coast. He was hopefully asleep. Getting some much needed rest that he deprived himself of too often to be healthy. Had he been thinking rationally, Kepp would’ve been pleased to know his boyfriend was sleeping. Proud of him, even.
But this was not rational. The ache in his chest only grew as the minutes ticked on without a response and with each passing second the snow only piled up higher around him. Kepp clutched his phone as if it alone could save him.
“Flynt, please be real. Please be real. I need you to be real,” he whispered as hot tears continued to stream down his cheeks. “Please.”
But as he shook and wheezed until he made himself sick, no answer broke through the dark, cold night. Just like before. No answer would come for him. Nobody missed him. No one would notice if one day he was just... gone.
Unwanted and alone, Kepp muffled his strangled screams in the snow until his voice broke and a different darkness came to claim him. When he’d wake in the morning, he’d be tangled up in his sheets again, white light reaching through the slats of his blinds. Feverish and numb and only a little embarrassed about his panic, he’d send an apologetic text to his boyfriend to start off his day. Until then though, while his own brain betrayed him with crushing memories until he fell back asleep, he’d believe wholeheartedly that his entire life didn’t matter to a single soul. That nothing had changed.
On the bad nights, it always felt like nothing had changed.
