Work Text
███ – ██:██ – ████
– — — — –
The camera flicks on to show a rather mundane scene, just walking through the dark without any commentary, before the group from before decides where to set up camp. Things seem rather boring and average, nothing new or interesting happening, until Floyd speaks some strange, ominous words, with a tense tone in his voice. Floyd cleared his throat, not visible on the film if you didn’t count his legs stretched out in front of him, and Ivan’s boots visible in the corner of the frame. “Chester, ya… s-should go find some firewood with ████, kay?” he said, Chester letting out a worried and confused noise. For some reason, his dialogue glitched into static when he appeared to say the leader’s name. “Why? Is something wrong?” “W-well,” Floyd started off, “it’s… gettin’ real late, and ya look real sleepy, so we should start up a fire t’ keep warm before goin’ t’ bed. And ya’ll know real well that ████ ain’t tough enough to be alone, you’re a great brave help!” Fast-forwarding through what seemed like arguing, Chester seemed to have decided to go with whoever the static sound was (presumably the leader considering Ivan and Floyd didn’t leave) and left his camera behind. Once the fast-forward was done, the crunching of footsteps on twigs and leaves was heard fading into the distance. As soon as it went silent again, Floyd broke it by saying in a rushed, worried tone, “You’re a doctor, r-right?” Ivan sounded confused, yet vaguely concerned, “I… spent ten years on the field as one, yes. Why? Are you alright?” It was strange for these two enemies to seem so needy to eachother. So in-need, that is. “I-I…” Floyd took a deep breath before Ivan scooted closer. “Remember that cut I got? O-on my hand?” Floyd seemed to lift up his hand, the one the handkerchief was tied around, and cloth rustled as he untied it. “What do y– Oh, God…” Ivan suddenly cut himself off as the cut was presumably shown properly. “This…” “I-I… I can’t keep it, can–?”– — — — –███ – ██:██ – ████– — — — – The screen cut off to static suddenly, reappearing with the same glitchy timestamp from before and letting audio fade in, filled with whimpers and soft sobs. Ivan’s backside and the heels of his boots were visible as he kneeled in front of Floyd, Floyd sounding as though he was crying. “Fuck, I can’t… W-what am I gonna tell Chester?” “We’ll figure that out later, alright? Just stay calm. I don’t have the supplies to do anything else.” A broken sob was heard, then a soft whimper. “Bite down on this. The alcohol should numb it enough, but…” “I-I get it. Fuck, what am I…” Floyd trailed off, probably stuffing something into his mouth. What exactly was happening out of frame? What could we not see? Ivan’s body jolted, and a muffled shriek in Floyd’s exact pitch and tone was heard. Another jolt. Another shriek. Another jolt. Another shriek. This repeated one more time before the tape cut to static once more.– — — — –███ – ██:██ – ████– — — — – “JESUS CHRIST–” the leader was heard shouting, along with a scream of terror from Chester. A hazy, not entirely formed laugh came from Floyd, before there was the loud thump of someone hitting the ground, and it, yet again, cut to static.– — — — –███ – ██:██ – ████– — — — – The only thing in frame was a right hand with a thick cut in its palm, cut off entirely and giving a singular twitch. The cut was heavily infected, the fingertips turning black. They had no choice.
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Ivan’s knuckles were white as he dug his fingers into his thighs. His eyes were tightly screwed shut, but the creature still seemed to be knowledgeable of how absolutely HOPEless the human’s situation suddenly was. The bug-like being had one of its clawed, stick-like legs holding the soldier by his dogtags, the chain tightly coiled around its ‘hand’. It twisted its ‘hand’, the chain tightening on Ivan’s throat. He simply remained as still as possible, though the red light was burning through his eyelids despite how he fought to keep them closed. Maybe a peek wouldn’t hurt, and the tug he got shown that the creature shared such a thought.
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“All of you. Step over the line.” Lucid hissed out with an air of authority. He held an arrow by the shaft directly under its point, the sharp tip pressing against Smog’s throat and having enough pressure behind it to draw purple-tinted blood. Smog hissed slightly in pain, eyes looking over the shocked ones of his allies. “Don’t you
dare
listen t–” Smog choked as the blade of the arrow was plunged into his neck, yanked out just as roughly and filling his throat with blood before it regenerated as fast as the action originally was. Despite his warnings, his allies stepped over the Border, away from safety. They were going to
die. Lucid still let out a soft giggle, glancing to either side. “You should know better than to attack me, too, because I…” The arrow trailed down Smog’s front, ending over his sternum. “…know where I can get to his
CORE
from~” Lucid all but purred out, it trailing into a louder giggle. It was cut short when he looked forward again and saw Garrote still on the other side of the border, which seemed to be giving away to Smog and Lucid’s auras, slowly beginning to close up again. “You. Suicidal prisoner. Failure of a father. Get over here.” Lucid hissed out, not noticing how IC’s hands clenched into fists nearby. But the Villains were helpless. This was out of their control now. This was a game that
no one
could win anymore. Things had gone too far.
Way
too far. Garrote’s eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, a growl building up in his throat. “You guys are all fucking morons. He’s bluffing. We’ve seen Smog recover from
decapitation. You think a stupid little twig can break through him?” It was clearly a dire situation if Garrote dropped any of his silly nicknames. “C’mere. All of you.” “YOU DON’T HAVE
ANY RIGHT
TO BE SAYING
JACK SHIT ABOUT ME!” Lucid’s voice was screechy near the end, and his eyes were aflame suddenly, bow appearing in his hand as he yanked the string back, aiming in milliseconds with Garrote’s head as his target. Smog used this chance to break free and make a run for the safer side of the border, the one he was used to, but the arrow was let go of at the same time the border closed in. And it closed in directly.
Over. Smog. Brutal was the first word to come to mind as anyone saw the scene. The border had split Smog in half from the chest, though the arrow that was shot at Garrote suffered a similar fate. Smog’s legs were on one side of the border, and his torso on the other. His body faded into golden dust within seconds, but it felt like it was hours of watching him suffer and twitch as his
CORE
shattered. Garrote, though… Half of the arrow was broken, yes, but half of it was still flying. It sliced directly into his head immediately, practically exploding on contact. All Garrote remembered after that was falling backwards into someone’s hands, the hands filling him with warm and fuzzy sensations. The hands healing him. On the other side, Lucid turned towards the Villains (who appeared to be in shock) and grinned darkly. Despite this, his voice came out cheerful, “Now, let’s get all of you back to my castle, and we can go about marking you as prisoners for life~!”
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She was on drugs. She was an addict. Garrote never expected that from his girlfriend. She never shown any strange signs, but the money spending was certainly something he worried about. They were both teens, they couldn’t spend this much! And she had so much life ahead of her. How could she waste it like this? Garrote had to confront her. He just had to. She was defensive, which made sense with her personality, but she got violent, which was certainly new. Everything happened so fast… There was sudden soreness in Garrote’s jaw, it hurt like the gates, but he felt himself swing back before he could stop it. He felt his knuckles bruise as she went toppling to the ground. He felt terror at the realization of what this means when he noticed she was shakily sitting herself up, one of her teeth chipped and having stabbed through her lip, blood staining them and turning previously pearly-whites into pinky-reds. Garrote ran once he realized what he did. He ran up the stairs as he heard her parents suddenly shout out asking what was wrong. He ran directly to their baby. “Kayley, sw-sweetie–” Garrote said, looking down at the infant in her crib with terrified, wide eyes. “Babygirl, daddy’s gotta go now, okay?” The baby didn’t seem to react with anything other than crying as Love screamed out Garrote’s name, suddenly terrified. Tears were filling Garrote’s eyes, but he still smiled. “I’ll be back before you can remember this, baby. I promise.” With that, he ran, narrowly dodging Love’s father before bursting through the front door. Where would he even go? He had no one. …No one other than IC.
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Azure was comfortable. Azure was happy. Azure was loved. He was in the arms of the women he loves, held close and comforted. A movie played in the background as his head lay upon the chest of one of his lovers, listening to her heartbeat and feeling the soft material of her sweater against his cheek. They were held tight to eachother, comfortable and relaxing. He doesn’t remember any time he felt safer than now, arms wrapped around one woman while the other pressed against him from behind. Both of their touches were soft and gentle as the one whom he was lying against ran her fingers through his hair, the one behind him rubbing up and down on his stomach comfortingly. The one playing with his hair spoke up with a gentle, loving tone — maternal in a way, “How are you feeling?” Azure let out a happy sigh through his nose, opening his gorgeous blue eyes to meet her own green ones. “Absolutely wonderful.” “Good,” the one behind him said in a sweet voice, “Because you deserve it. You deserve all of it.” Suddenly, fear struck Azure. Terror unrelenting raced and coursed through his system like the violent waves of a hurricane, picking up each wall of comfort he felt and throwing them around like they were nothing. The hands on his stomach moved lower, diving underneath his waistband, and the one against his head shoved him against his partner’s breasts.“You’ll always deserve it, Blue,” they said in unison.– — — — – Azure shot awake with choked breathing, tears filling his eyes. He hated himself for dreaming this, as though he had even an ounce of control over his night mind’s thoughts and desires. He hated himself because of how much he craved to be held so gently by them again.