//------------------------------// // 6. Am I Going Nowhere? // Story: Double Double // by Background Bystander //------------------------------// To the beings whose home lie within the clouds of a crisp summer sky, it was very easy to distinguish between the two-tone two-ton boiling atop the black below, and the vast abstract stokes viewed by those without the graces of gliding with the winds. At least they could decipher between skin and the rows of scorched sand stacked high and mighty across these great structures. Visual cues etched deep within the brain to be remembered for more than a passing second. Or so they’d like to believe. These estranged thoughts passed through the officer’s heads, motioning them through the doors as they sauntered from the cruiser. The scuffle of their black leather boots melting with the tarmac, the only footing being the deep-cut ridges of the thick rubber soles. Through basic training, as well as some mental grit, it was quite simple to ignore this sweltering heat of late August afternoons. With the Sun positioned right where shadows were shortest, roughly around 1:15 or so. That didn’t make it any less frustrating. The driver tugged at the dark navy polyester pulled taut around his neck, cutting quick through the circulation underneath the cooking sun. “Y’know,” He started, for what was likely the hundredth time that day, “I seriously think seasonal uniforms are in order. We have them for winter, summer should, too.” His partner turned to him on a beat, the brim of his cap flicked in the sun. “What’s it now? You gonna whine until you’re draped in silk?” “No, but it wouldn’t kill them to invest in some shorts.” “Then I suggest you take it up with the department, I heard the campus is looking to fill a few seats on the pedal patrol.” “…Forget I said anything.” “Often do.” The Allison Hall, as it’d been championed by the state as a well-executed allocation of resources, now appeared to be depreciating integrity with each footstep. Students and local passersby had been swiftly vacated from the vital spaces of interest. Not that they’d want to be out here anyways. The sun was like a laser, melding the darker garments onto their skin with no covers of clouds in sight. Tac boots overflowing with sweat sloshing in their socks. Forget shorts, they should start investing in galoshes. There were a few people waiting on the sidewalk, eyeing them down the whole way. Some of them were older, styles reminiscent of a generation they could remember with their business casual. Hair done up like wiry cotton candy and a blazer that’d fit just right for around fifteen years. Those that were left they assumed to be the ones that called it in. Great, one of them thought, what’s it this time? A party? Trouble in paradise? Did some not heed caution when sailing the murky waters? Speckles of light danced all around him, crafting their own little welcoming committee. Spread out across the grass, the tarmac, and some of the vehicles parked in the row in front of the Hall. He frowned slightly, as his steel brow rusted in about five seconds time. He checked the muffled crack that sounded from beneath his boots. Glass. Glistening little shards scattered with the winds to lay perfectly random across the lot, casting a sort of fan pattern. Then, as if hitting his cues for a movie set, he motioned to his next move: Make slight grimace, hold for a few seconds, then move gaze towards the building proper. Notice the singular window smashed out, third story up. Hold for a least five seconds, before letting off a sigh of disappointed realization. Then say line: Nope, I had too much faith in them. “No way! I’m not doing that!” “Aww, c’mon, it’s not that bad of an idea.” “The answer’s still no.” “Not even if I say please?” “I’m not turning myself into a horse, Chris.” “Well, I mean…you are kinda part horse, so why not just go all the way? It might even help you get around on your hooves. You look like a little newborn foal when you’re stumbling around.” “I AM NOT- …I don’t think that’s the best idea. Think about it, when’s the last time you saw a horse walking around a college campus?” “…I dunno, crazier things have happened.” “Be serious now.” “I am!” “Then you’re seriously stupid. I’m gonna be the most suspicious thing out here. I’ll stick out like, well, like a horse walking around on campus!” “You already said that.” “The point is, we need to leave as swift and silent as possible, without causing a scene.” “…” “You’re not riding me out of here.” “What? Oh-uh, of course! I knew that! You’re right, I’m being very stupid! Very, very stupid…that it is.” The last round of questioning had finally circled around to a close, stumbling across the mental finish line. That didn’t make the haul there any easier to catalog, let alone comprehend. He finished up his notes and gave her a nice, calming expression, one many can clearly tell is crafted. “We appreciate your cooperation, Miss Doe.” He told the girl. “And we’ll do all we can to resolve this situation, and bring safety back on campus.” He almost felt guilty sending her off with the university staff, to amend their poor mushed minds from a combination of overdue papers and pharmaceuticals. Now they parted ways, and he went back to his partner by the cruiser, keeping close and low for suspicious talk. He wiped the shag carpet on his lip and began another set of questions. “You catch all of that?” He responded shrugged slightly, before clearing his throat. “You mean what was inbetween the tears and stutters? Then yes,” He grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe how far we’ve fallen as a nation.” “Not as much as this dude apparently.” He said, looking back to the window in a turn of forced amazement. “Three stories down, to be exact.” “Followed up by some black…creature, snatching him up and crashing off into the woods.” “Whew, glad you’re the one to say it. My ass’d be toast if those words came out of my mouth like that.” A heavy stared followed. He coughed. “Anyways, what do you make of all this?” “Professional, or personal?” He looked up to the window, then back down to the grass, watching as all the lights continued to flash at them. As if the bugs themselves were their own tiny branch of the media. Grasshoppers with cameras, zipping around the scene to get the best angles to sell to news outlets. Ants as anchors, reporting live back to their colonies, where information would spread wild and ravenous like…ants. Though, he preferred to see them more as dung beetles, completely enamored with crazed devotion to ever rolling mounds of their own shit. The sight must’ve been intoxicating. Smell, too. “It looks to me like out subjects could be a little more suspect then they’re letting on.” He shook his head. “I’m not so sure on that. Nerves can make anyone say anything, especially when the brain stops being reasonable. But all their stories seemed to match up, every single one, despite their…strangeness.” It’s one thing to have one person say one story at one time, it’s another to have two-three-four all saying the same words, painting the same picture. Replaying the same events. Or, as his partner was eluding to, spinning the same web. He crossed his arms and turned away from him, attempting to keep up his enigmatic persona. “Not that hard to keep everyone on a script. They looked like the theater type, anyhow.” He jammed his thumbs into his pockets. “Stupid kids doing stupid things for stupid reasons. It’s gonna happen no matter where you are. This might either be a prank, or perhaps a domestic dispute. Finding their whatever-friend doing something they’re not supposed to with someone they’re definitely not supposed to be doing it with.” His shaded stare shifted across the grounds, and stopped on the building opposite the road. With a confident smirk, he gestured upwards. “Take a look at that one over there, third floor up again.” Having to squint to get a clearer view, he held a hand to his forehead, and watched how the light traced across the distant window pane. “Cracked, multiple hits.” He muttered, feeling his shoulders become heavy. Annoyingly heavy. He turned back to his partner, who was giving him a very cheeky cocked brow as to his discovery. “What’s the plan here?” “I’ll search the mess out here, near the building and the edge of those woods. See if anything’s been discarded in haste. While you need to get us access to the dorm, it’s our main point of interest.” “And here I thought you wanted to take a nice long walk on beach with me.” He gave him a confused look. “Get it? ‘Cause glass is made of-“ “Inside. Now.” He pointed towards the front doors. “Heh, yessir.” He recalled a couple years back, one of his buddies in the medical field rushing over to a house to deal with three kids, all different ages of stupid, who’d just consumed detergent pods, and whisked to the hospital before their innards began to boil from the various cleaning chemicals. He was glad his kids weren’t old enough to be a part of all this, he didn’t know what he’d do. Neither would some other very displeased parents if this were heading where he thought it was heading. “That’s our best option, considering the restrictions you’ve put in place.” He pushed a prickly branch from his face as he walked around a fallen tree trunk. “Restrictions?” He put a hoof to his chest with an upturned nose. “Well, forgive me for finding the security of my own dignity to still be important.” “Dignity? Hate to break it to you, but that went out the window the moment we…” As he clambered over a rock, he caught a glimpse of her glowing glare, and found his throat closing up. “Uh…look, if you want to leave quick, we need to get on the road.” “Please tell me you have a car, right?” “Pssh, of course I do! And she’s a pretty sweet one at that…nice curves, pristine finish-not a fuckin’ scratch. She can really hug those corners, all in an elegant, efficient fashion-“ “It’s a ninety-eight Civic. In beige.” “Hey now, don’t knock it. I’ll have you know it was rated the most reliable car of it’s class.” “Not even close.” “Yeah, well, it’s close enough, and it’s the only thing that’s getting you out of here, so you better start acting like it. Sorry it's no golden chariot.” He shrieked a hiss with spontaneous anger, making Chris jumped back into the leaves he was laying in. He quickly stuffed his tongue back into his mouth and adjusted himself around the rocks they were hiding between. Keeping a constant eye on the ever constant flashing lights up the hill. He coughed and choked these feelings back down his throat. He wiped a hand across his face and looked down at his spit sprinkled shirt. “What was that?” “I…don’t know. Never been a fan of gold and it’s…arrogance. Perhaps black, that's far better.” “Gee, thanks for the tip. Ugh.” An idea came to him, as his eyes became those of worry, and he started fishing around in his pockets. They went even wider and he stared back towards the building. “What now?” “I may or may not have left all my stuff back in the dorm.” “Seriously, you had none of those on you?” His face lit up in a smug, sarcastic light. One he knew all too well. “Oh, well, now it’s time for you to forgive me for not preparing to be thrown out of a window, Chrissy. It’s not something one often schedules into their day, y'know? No notification for your daily drop.” “Asshole.” The two of them spotted a figure sauntering about the top of the hill, walking back and fourth on the grounds by the building. Kneeling down occasionally and scooping into the grass. “What the- who is that?” It seemed to be in a uniform, with a color that would bring a black hole to the sun’s rays of radiation. Maybe that would explain why he looked to be in such a sour mood. However, it didn’t explain why he was armed. “That’s a cop, isn’t it?” Chris looked up and squinted, before giving a shrug. “I’d put money on it.” “…Great.” He waited by the elevator, one foot tapping with idle energy as he leaned against the wall. The lobby of this building had about as much charm and character as the precinct, cold and lifeless as it slowly chipped away at the layers between the skin and soul. Letting you sit and wonder what you’d done to put yourself into this situation. To think, in due time his own money would be pumped into this system for his own kid’s future. He told himself it’s a good investment, they both did. But when your first tour of available colleges is determining which one had the best parking lot for a pseudo safety net, he started to see vocation schools in a new perspective. Plumbing may not be glamorous, but the work is always needed, and it definitely gets the bills paid. But no amount of scrubbing or fighting with a plunger could clean up the mess they’d just gotten themselves into. With a loud chime, the door of the elevator opened, as a posse of peeved workers shuffled their way out of the car with equipment in tow. “Thanks for the assistance. Always appreciated.” He said with a polite smile. One simply grunted at him with a annoyed expression, before walking out the door. Nearly running over his partner in the process. He shot them a dirty look, pulling at his askew shirt and screwing on his cap as he walked up to him. “Geez, hard to find decent help these days, isn’t it?” “Some could say the same about us.” He looked him up and down. “What happened to you? You get in a fight with a bush or something?” He asked, slowly picking a leaf from his shoulder and crumpling it in his hand. Along with a few blades of grass peppered amongst the buttons and patches. He looked down at himself, quickly rubbing off the evidence of his environmental evisceration, and looked back to him with a nervous glance. “Huh, oh…no, I’m fine, just dandy.” He adjusted the brim of his hat again. “And no, I didn’t see anything, apart from more glass and garbage. You’d think with all the money being dumped into these institutions, they’d learn a thing or two about helping the environment.” “They’d also learn these things put them in never ending debt, yet they keep lining up.” A chime rang and the doors opened. “C’mon, lets go.” They shuffled in, standing side by side as the doors closed, seeing the blurred reflections in the stained steel. The two stood side by side silently, feeling the faint rumbles of the car as they ascended. Anywhere holy was yet to be determined. One of them coughed. “So uh…” He glanced down then back up quickly. “…Murphy, you find anything interesting yourself? Any clues to bring about a hunch?” “A hunch?” Murphy shrugged it off. “Nope, and the fact it took nothing short of a battering ram to take the door down, I have no clue what we're in for.” “Really? They had to rip the door off the hinges?” Murphy nodded. “Hmph, I got fifteen, betting it’s a party.” “What?” “Y’know, like a college party? I remember my daughter showed me this video of a guy once, completely plastered, taking a header straight into a table. Broke the whole damn thing in half.” “Yeah, but at noon, on a Monday?” “I don’t know, crazier things have happened.” Murphy put his head in his hand. “C’mon, Jon.” He grumbled. Jon chuckled again as he watched the many blinking lights of the console, his eyes darting around the weird abstract patterns of light. “But, I mean, it can happen, right? Maybe there’s a few drinks leftover, feels like we’re in an oven out here.” “How about you quit complaining?” Although, yeah, that wouldn’t be so bad of a surprise right now, as he felt like his sweaty shirt had become a second layer of skin. His own personal little sauna. “Look when we’re done with this shift, I’ll getcha a beer or two, just hang in there and quit griping, I heard it helps conserve energy.” The elevator chimed again and the door opened. The two stepped out and made their way down the hall, Jon falling in behind Murphy. They came up to a door sectioned off in the corner, with chairs and tables alike keeping other students from entering. They moved them aside and came up to the doorframe. Murphy looked down to carpet, seeing the vast amounts of splinters piling out from inside. The light inside appeared to be flickering in its best attempts to shine through the damage. He shuddered. “Why do I have to do it?” “Because you’re the reason we’re in this to begin with! Plus, with that...ability of yours, it should make for easy pickings.” He looked at him with a dull expression. “Ok then, how about some ro-sham-bo, best two out of three?” “You’re really gonna act like this? Now? And I can only throw rock, see?” He held up a hoof. “...Three out of five?” “Chris!” “Well, if we took up my idea, this wouldn’t be an issu-“ “You’re not getting on top of me, you incessant little larva!” The figure atop the hill stopped abruptly, then turned their way in a slow, cautious manner. They ducked their heads lower. He tried to bury his horn under a blanket of branches and leaves. “Shit, too loud.” “You think?” The figure walked down slightly and got right at the edge of the woods, it’s head scanning back and forth across the many trunks. “Oh man, this is insane...” He hissed. “I’ve had problems with the police, and now they’re gonna be looking for me.” He was half tempted to just walk up the hill and speak to the man face to face, about as casual and collected as one could be. Wave a hoof and flash a TV style smile, fangs and all. Excuse me, sir! Terribly sorry to intrude, but I believe we’ve all gotten ourselves in quite the pickle here. We apologize, if we could please have a moment of your time and lay it all out, it would greatly benefit everyone involved. Please? He’d be lucky if he didn’t fill him full of holes right then and there...sorry, more holes. But he had to slip this nagging noose and get to the dorm again, considering this was sorta his fault. Not to mention they’d be on Chris like a rabid dog if he walked by them into his room now. Maybe they’d get an actual dog. A blot of black was floating around in the sun, moving through the air in an unfocused, circular pattern. It’s shape constantly expanding and contracting as it got closer to them. Evidently, it wasn’t anything dangerous, as the cop hadn’t focused onto it's presence, continuing to look into the forest. But it was getting closer. Much closer, and more controlled, until it... ...Landed on his muzzle. “Holy...” The place was a total wreck, like a small bomb went off. Just as he feared. Furniture broken and thrown around the main room and spilled over through the kitchen. Most the school supplies either stuck through the wall or were laying on the ground in their own piles. Mirrors and TV screen smashed to spider webs. Along with many of the wood panels warped and twisted as if something was repeatedly smashed onto them. On the other side of the broken window, sections of the walls and ceiling had been blackened from some kind of blast. It looked to be shooting forward, sending out of the ground below. What concerned him most was that it wasn’t the thing he was concerned most about. For there was other substance splattered about in gooey strings and little droplets. All with a sickly green glow to them. “It looks like World War Three in here.” Jon said, stepping around slowly. “Don’t suppose they left any stragglers for us?” “Doubt it.” Murphy said in a flat tone, taking up the other side and going into the living room. The couch had been upturned, with pillows thrown about into the kitchen area over in the corner. He knelt down to get a better look at the liquid. It gave off an aggressive smell, mean and bubbly. Toxic at first glance. Some of it followed a drip pattern across the room, with other puddles appearing to have been slid over. “We got quite the mess on our hands here, don’t we?” He continued, poking at a spoon shot through the wall. “If this isn’t it, it’ll do just fine till it gets here.” Murphy muttered, rising back to his feet and looked around, eyes scanning over the room. Jon stood over by the corner and placed his hands on his hips. “Looks like it’s only out here, in this general area.” He made a sweeping motion with his arm. “Real cage match by the looks of it. Hell in a cell.” He pointed over to an open door, unmarked and untouched. “See over there? Looks like the bedroom. I’m gonna take a look.” “Hang on a sec.” He pointed over to a puddle. “This, along the wood grain.” His brow scrunched in forced concentration. "The hell is that? Looks like some sorta science project gone haywire." He went down to touch it, before being swatted away by Murphy. “No-no-no, not that. Look at it’s shape.” Jon looked again, and his eyes went wide in disbelief. “Are those...hoof prints?” He said, with a hitch in his voice. “Indeed, and look, they go all throughout this place.” He examined them for a few seconds. “Equine. And it ain’t no Shetland, neither.” He looked back to his partner, who at this point was sweating enough bullets to fill a few magazines. He darted away and gave a slight chuckle. "Well goddamn." He said. "It seems to me our suspect was engaged in some pretty serious horseplay, wouldn't you say?" Murphy sat in silence for a moment, before swiftly standing up and staring back at Jon. "Say something like that again, and you're gonna help us in this case with an in-depth reenactment." He backed off, holding his hands up. "Alright, man, alright, just chill out." He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "In all seriousness, what do you think made these? You think he got a real one up here?" "Honestly, I'm not sure I even want to know." He looked back to the broken window, envisioning a body breaking through, falling fast. “No way anyone could walk away from a drop like that, let alone shuffle off with broken bones and bruises. But there’s no blood or anything out in the lot. Absolutely nothing but glass.” So much for a slow start of another slog sweeping the streets. It seemed their latest person of interest either had found himself a couple of not-so-friendly acquaintances who had a flair for the theatrics, or he had a very unorthodox method of getting his kicks...or bucks , if you will. Jon sighed, and looked over to the other barely intact doors of the dorm. “...I’m gonna check that bedroom, see if there’s anything useful I can find. If I see any incantations or spell books, you’re the first to know.” “Make it quick, we need to call this in. Think we’ll need a bio team to figure out what this gunk is. Might have to evacuate the floor, probably the whole building.” “Wonderful.” Jon said with a groan. “Don’t you just love these kind of days?” As Jon moved through the door into the bedroom, Murphy heard the rapid whips of flapping, followed by something landing on the glass with a crack. Or, it attempted to, before slipping and falling on the ground with an audible thwack. He turned around to see what was the cause of the noise. “What the hell?” The bright, vibrant blue of its body filled his field of view, sporadically fluttering as tiny appendages moved it to the very edge of his nose. His vision cleared just enough to see it was a butterfly, resting patient and peaceful as it let the light pour over itself. He stared at it, examining it as it flexed its wings and twitched it’s antennas around this discovery of a previous uncharted material. He wondered what it thought of his hard onyx exterior and the translucent abdomen full of guts and blood. Would it approve? Disapprove? What’s the checklist of a butterfly that determines ‘Ok, guess I’ll chill here for a while. Maybe invite some friends so we can do those butterfly things us butterflies are so well known for.’ In that time, it’d turned around to look him in the eyes with its own giant spheres. He felt, in that particular moment, a sense of understanding resonating with the small creature. At the end of the day, the both of them were merely weary travelers, both trying to navigate a world that wanted nothing to do with them. For him, the possibility of death swooping down to shred him to pieces in a split second. He probably didn’t even have the mental capacity to discover what was happening before it was too late. Gone. Vanished. As for Chris, well, humans aren’t exactly well known for their hospitality towards one another, especially between land masses. And especially even more if you’re of a different species. Not a moment goes by where you aren’t in immediate danger, not even in your own home. The world was here before you, and will remain once you’re gone. No skin off its back, no soil from its ground. You’re unearthed from the womb. You live. You die. You’re buried once more. Lucky bastard, having being graced with enough stupidity to never question its own nature. Only necessity. Only survival. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get his opinion in the matter. It was then, a strange feeling began to bubble up from his throat, his vocal chords rumbling and twisting as the noise crawled out from his throat. A weird clicking, mixed in with quick flutters. Hello there. The butterfly appeared startled for a moment, fully extended it’s wings and beating them rapidly. Shoving wave after wave of air into his nose. Irritating it. Causing him blow out a horse-like sneeze, launching it into the distance with great force. It managed to stabilize itself physically and hopefully mentally and flew off immediately. Thrusting him back to reality. “Wait, I’m sorry! Come back!” He yelled in a whisper. “Who’re you talking to?” Chris asked. “That butterfly, the one that’s flying away...” He said sheepishly. It flew up the hill, making a quick buzz by the cop. It startled him and caused him to lose his footing and fall to the ground. With a blast of grass and leaves flying up, causing them both to wince. “What're you on, some kinda nature walk?” He said. “If you care so much, why don’t you fly up there and tell him yourself?” The officer quickly lept to his feet and surveyed around him. Once he saw no one was looking, he cursed under his breath and dusted himself off before walking to the front doors with a hat in his hands. That’s when a light bulb went off in his head. “Gasp, Chris, I got it!” “Got what?” “How we’re gonna get your stuff back, I got it!” “And that would be?” “A bird?” Murphy stilled himself as the animal squirmed and struggled to right itself on the floor. A light breeze from the west had followed it through the window. His hand out from his chest and the other near his hip, carefully studying the bird. It rolled over from it’s back onto it’s belly and rose to it’s talons, trying to use it’s wings as leverage in a ‘push up’ maneuver. Shaking out it’s feathers of the glass and peered around, head sliding across the feathers of it’s body like an animatronic. After a moment it’s head locked onto him. The sharp, unflinching glare of it’s yellow eyes freezing him on the spot. Then it opened it’s beak. “Squawk?” Murphy recoiled, tripping on the carpet and falling against an end table, what was left of the lamp shattering into pieces. Startled immensely from the bird’s surprisingly human tone. “Oh shi-“ It spoke, before covering its mouth with a wing. Murphy scrambled back on his hands and feet, taking cover behind the couch and getting back to his feet. “What the fuck!” Footsteps from the other room became louder as his partner rounded the corner. “Murphy, what’s going on? I got something.” Jon held up his hand and jingled the object, flashing like glass in the light. “I don’t think our guy is too far away. Left a couple other essentials lying around, too.” “Jon, no!” He shouted. Trying to rush over and rip the keys from his hands. But it was too late. The bird had taken flight and was rushing towards them, wings flapping in an uneven rhythm with it’s talons extended outwards towards their faces. They miscalculated each other’s movements and ended up falling over one another, the keys flying into the air, and spun tight around one of its toes. It continued past and flew towards the bedroom door. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Birds are all about shiny objects!” Murphy hoisted his partner off of him. Rebounding off the wall and headed towards the door. He kicked it open and alerted the creature standing on the desk, who was fumbling a wallet and phone between it’s wings. “...Uh...I need to borrow these...squawk.” “Like hell you are, freak of nature!” He grabbed for the bird-thing, but it ducked underneath his hand and scurried between his legs. The sounds of its talons clicking with the scrape of the keys echoing out of the door. Jon was bent over, a hand on the countertop as he tried to recoup from his sudden embrace with the floor. He was feeling around for his cap. Instead, he saw it laying lopsided in the middle of the room. He scooted over to pick it up, just as the bird ran over it, tripping and dropping the objects within it's wings. He wasted no time and clutched onto one of it's legs. Grip tightening as it tried to flap out of his grasp. "Aha, I got you now!" What followed was the bird immediately turned back at him and letting off a loud, high pitched shriek of a hiss. It's beak became serrated, rows upon rows of large, bone-like fangs running down the edges, and the eyes flashing an imposing, all encompassing green. Like something out of a horror movie. And naturally, he let go of the fucking thing in complete shock, his eyes watching as it quickly shoved the phone into it's beak and the wallet onto it's other foot and hobbled towards the window. Swinging it's wings in an up-and-down motion, barely getting any lift as it squatted atop the line of broken glass in the windowsill. Murphy came running out of the room, hand on his gun. "Jon, quick! We gotta stop that...thing..." He trailed off, seeing the creature drop head first out the window. He scrambled over and looked down, just catching a glimpse of it's body moving towards the tree line. On impulse, he drew his pistol and aimed it out the window, tracing it's trajectory slowly with hard focus. He felt his finger's pressure on the trigger, flexing further and further. Then he stopped. He grumbled. "I can't, there’d be hell to pay if I told 'em I'm shooting at a bird." He flicked the safety and placed it back into his holster, shaking off some chills. "Jon, you alright? Did it get you?" He walked over to his partner on the ground and extended a hand, quickly accepted as he pulled him to his feet. "It didn't hurt you or nothing, did it?" "No, I'm good. I think." Jon looked himself once over then nodded. "Great, that thing's got all his stuff, and don’t know where it's heading. So much for keeping order." "We need more units out here, figure out just what in the hell is going on...unless it’s actually hell itself." He groaned and ran a hand down his face. "In the meantime, someone needs to get in touch with his family and tell them what's going on with their son. And perhaps animal control while we’re at it." Murphy looked Jon over again, stopping at the crotch of his pants and it's discoloration. "Uh, Jon, you alright?" "Yeah, of course! Just...uh, slipped in some of that liquid is all. Got it?" The bird flew steady around the tree trunks, slipping and sliding in a slalom run as it darted through the branches, all while keeping it's newly found treasures close and secure. Eventually, it flew to another parking lot on the other side of campus, slowing down to land on the shoulder of a man sitting on a bench. He held out his hand and the hawk dropped the objects into his open palm, taking them with a smirk. "How'd it go?" “It felt wrong.” He answered quickly, handing him his belongs before shaking out the feathery wing. “It felt very, very wrong.” “Yeah, y’know what else feels wrong? Being a G-Man’s personal pin cushion, that’s what feels wrong.” He pocketed the keys and motioned over to a car. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” “Where?” He asked, hopping along the dirt on the little bird legs. “Right now? Anywhere. Just as far away from this campus as we can get.” “Now, um, Chrissy, I’d like to ask you, and don’t take this personally, I mean no offense…but what the fuck are you?” They had sped out of there just as quickly and wild as they could without attracting any further attention from the authorities lulling around. And sure, while 35 miles per hour wasn’t the most ideal get away gallop, but better to be heading somewhere slow than to be going nowhere fast, ha ha. Yes, that is a fake laugh, dick. As they drew near to the edge of town, the clustered cacophony on the sides of the street slowly gave way to vast farmland filled with a wide variety of crops and farm equipment, and he wondered if jumping out and flying away would be more productive. Why’d he even leave his dorm this morning? He should’ve just went straight to bed after his game crapped out on him. At least he would’ve been able to assess this situation with a clear head, instead of just rushing it under the veil of false confidence and a flurry of emotions. Maybe then he wouldn’t be sitting here, disguised as a bird with this freaky caricature come to life, and his entire life reduced to rubble. Maybe he would, there was always a possibility. That's the thing about life, chances are always considered very slim, but never once labelled an impossibility. "What am I?" His tiny head twitched back and forth to look at himself. "Well, uh, I don't know, I just kinda thought of an amalgamation of different birds I've seen-" "No, I mean you. Like, what species are you? You some kinda space alien, or is Alaska cooking up some freaky breeding experiment? I know they got those super secret military bases up there...probably." "What the fu- ...no, no, that Alaska shit was a lie. All of it." He said with a glum look, or his best attempt with a beak. "But, uh, I'm not really sure, honestly. Definitely looks like an alien to me, checks all the right boxes. But I've always been a human, or at least I thought I was...I looked like one, yeah. Plain and simple." There was however, this word-this title if you will-that seemed to be rolling around on the tip of his tongue. It seemed to fit rather neatly, given his new form's ability to take the form of other forms, those big and small. This shapeshifting, disguising, this...changing. Yes, he knew he had it, but he just couldn't grasp it! Like an answer to a test question you've studied one too many times, that once you come across it, your brain decided to draw a blank. Well, maybe he couldn't grasp it because of the hooves as well, but it was still making him mighty miffed that mouth noises weren't materializing. "Guessing it wasn't so simple then, huh?" He nodded. "Nothing I'd ever done alluded to...this..." He motioned a wing with a mourning tweet. Perhaps this whole thing was a sign of some sort, it would certainly make more sense. Incidents. Irregularities such as this don't come appear out of the blue. With a problem like this, there's always a reason, maybe not a good reason, but a reason nonetheless. Chris continued to mumble nonsense hoping to find some actual sense sifting through the sounds, but the best he could come up with was- "Uh, yeah, this is-you are-very odd." "I know." “You look like the mishmash of the ass end of a horse and a squashed insect shot full of-“ “I KNOW! OK? I’M VERY FUCKING AWARE!” Chris scooted away slightly in his seat as he pulled off towards an old back road clear of civilization, allowing them room to breathe and ponder. "Why don't we start with this morning? Take things nice and slow, and we might get somewhere." He cleared his throat. "So, you got up, bright eyed and...erm, bushy tailed?" The bird shrugged. "What happened?" "Well, I really didn't wake up this morning, more like I...reemerged back into the world. I've been up all night playing video games." "Oh! The VR one? With the knights and shit?" He looked at him, slightly surprised, but brushed it off realizing how he knew. "Yeah?" "Did you finally beat it?" "Well, yes, but-" "How? I've been stuck on that fucker all week! It's driving me crazy!" "I don't think this is import-" "Wait! Wait! On second thought, don't tell me! It might spoil something." "Chris, I-" "But, can I at least get one hint, maybe? Like, a certain move or something?" "Chris." "But if it ruins too much, then never mind, I don't wanna know...unless, you can-" "CHRIS!" Another shout shut him up again. "Focus, please." He went back to watching the road, muttering under his breath. "Just asked for one hint is all, damn." "Thank you." He sighed, and went back to his subject. "After getting through all of that, I felt completely out of it, so went to go get something from the fridge to eat. Found and apple and began to cut..." He mimicked a chopping motion with a wing, before pretending to pierce it like a knife. “That explains the holes at least.” He rolled his eyes. “I went to go wash it off, and suddenly my blood turned black, and yes, the holes appeared, but they were invisible in the beginning. Then my whole body locked up and started suffocating with this great pressure, like I was thrust into the vacuum of space. After a while...I guess some kinda instinct kicked in, and I turned into, well, that thing as you saw.” “Damn, forget pissing in your wheaties, sounds like today dropped a whole Lincoln log on you.” He rapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, where do I come into the picture?” “When you did just that, walking by my window just as I was closing the blinds. I ended up having a little...moment, if you know what I mean.” He sighed. “I thought...I thought you were an alien that'd targeted me to ruin my life. Or the world. Or maybe the world, and while in the process, my life as well.” “And you tried luring me out with that, um, disguise of yours?” He nodded, feeling his head lower in shame. The two fell into silence, the muffled sounds of the engine filling the void. His hand swiped over the blinker, and a right arrow flashed. He saw Chris’s eyes move down to his hands on the wheel, color on his knuckles whitening. “In a way, I guess I sorta did that...ruining your life and all. Considering the fact that, y’know, you found out you’re not you...I’m sorry.” “Why do you keep doing that?” “Doing what?” “Saying you’re sorry? I know you were telling the truth back there, I could taste it. The...emotion, was so pure. Rich with sympathy and compassion, there’s no way you could fake that.” He looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Yes I know, it’s just as weird for me, too. But you didn’t do any of this, there’s nothing to apologize for.” “I don’t know...it’s just-“ “If anyone should apologize here, it should be me for blasting you out the window.” “Yeah, but-“ “No buts, you’re fine. Trust me.” He’d spoken again using that soft, compassionate voice like he did with his rowdy dorm mate. Using the cover of the queen’s voice from the game. However, instead of going glossy eyed and robotic, he merely gave an understanding nod. His aura continued to deepen in the chills of regret, mixed in with a faint desire...to go back and fix what he thought he’d done. “Alright.” He said in a defeated tone. He smiled, or at least attempted to with the beak. They continued to drive out for a few more minutes with awkward silence filling the car. After a while, Chris said. "So, what happens now?" “What happens now is we try and stay within a functioning society, that’s what.” He hopped a little closer to his seat and looked up at him. "I'd like to establish some rules from this point on, between me and you." "More rules?" "Yes, and I would like you to follow them without question. It will benefit us both, trust me.” “Fine.” He said, seemingly going on autopilot as he stabilized their speed to around forty or so. “When it’s just me and you, I get to use the Chris body as I’ll call it. Out of everything I’ve been as of late, I feel the most comfortable in that one.” He pursed his lips and looked out the side window. His eyes were bouncing back and forth in their sockets, having an internal debate of this strange request. The scent of the air certainly felt like it. A dash of individualism, mixed in with a sense of frustration and slight pity. After a while he blinked and nodded. “Sure, that’ll work.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate you letting me do that-“ “But.” He cut him off. “I get to keep calling you Chrissy, it’ll make things much easier...and I had the name first anyways.” “Deal. A fair trade for all.” He extended a wing towards him. He raised an eyebrow at it’s sight, before taking in his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Ouch.” He shook out some crooked feathers. “Next, pants.” “Now’s not the time for shopping.” “I’m gonna need some kind of clothing, dude. I can’t just walk around naked the whole time, no matter how natural that idea sounds.” He held his chin for a moment, analyzing the bird sitting next to him. Then he moved his eyes upwards to where he would be at normal eye level. After a little while, he blinked and looked down again. “Have you ever thought about transforming, while seeing yourself already wearing clothes?” “Uh...” He squeaked, hopping on his feet nervously and fluffed his wings. The neck constantly darting around to all corners of the cabin. “No, I didn’t. Wow, that’s actually a pretty good idea, can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before.” “That’s because it’s not your money that’s being spent, that’s why.” Chris chuckled. “Are you saying you wouldn’t help this poor soul look as best as she possibly could?” “Huh?” “Nothing-nothing, just a joke!” Even though, the idea of shopping for the right kinds of clothes for his female disguise did sound intriguing to an extent. He wondered what kinds of tops would look best on it. To study its exploits and limitations. The only thing he’d ever really seen her in was that elegant, ruby dress adorned with jewelry and strange alien patterns poor souls on the art team slaved over for who knows how long. Carefully crafting every conspicuous detail on her character model with the engine they were using. That, and of course, her crown, as all far flung fantasy rulers wear at some point. Maybe he should find one like that, he thought. He bet he’d look good in a crown...very good. He exhaled, sounding more like the coos of the bird. “Ok...um, so do you think I should imagine both the clothes and the body underneath, or just the clothes themselves?” “Why’re you asking me? I’m not the one with the shapeshifting body.” “It was your idea!” “That don’t change the fact I’m a human being.” He said with a huff, continuing to drive down the winding countryside. Considering the they had a few hours until the daily work shift ended, it practically gave them the whole road to themselves. If circumstances were different, he would’ve just rolled the windows down and cruised. “But if it was me doing it, I’d think of both, just to be safe.” Chris looked at the various mirrors of the vehicle, confirming that they were still the only ones out on this road, at least those that could be seen. He gave him the word and turned back the road. He gulped and looked at the massive seat he was balancing on. Here goes nothing. He closed his eyes and envisioned himself, the body appearing in his mind with ease. But now came the tricky part, squinting hard as he manually cranked the cogs within his cranium. He could feel the dull throbs of a headache beginning, but he powered through to turn a metaphorical key. Waking a large machine, spinning and sewing as the tiny threads fused themselves around the body, careful not to stitch to the skin with a surgical precision. The shirt came first, a simple t-shirt. Bending and twisting to fit him, the collar slithering across his neck and swallowing its tail to complete the ring. Flowing down onto the rest of the cloth and connecting in patches. Then onto a pair of shorts, and only those. Focus on one layer. After those had latched to his legs, he moved his attention to his feet, which proved to be rather tricky. Not only with the socks, but not he’d have to dissect all the deep intricacies buried underneath the stitches and sole, meanwhile feeding lace all throughout. Forget it, just do a pair of slip-ons for now, those aren’t as complex. Once he had it all together, he nodded to himself and let the green flame engulf him, turning the avian apparition to ash. The car swerved violently across the road. He fought with the wheel to get it righted on the proper side of the line, all manner of squeals and howls raging from outside. Finally, he managed to break the thing as it settled and went back to a straight line. “Jesus, you gotta warn me before you do that!” Looking over he saw, well, himself in an uncomfortable angle in the passenger seat. Now finally wearing clothes, along with a faceless expression as he slowly rubbed the fabric between his fingertips. It was like looking into a mirror. A very strange, very creepy mirror. Chrissy’s mouth hung open as they slowly looked over the rest of her-him-bug body. “Hmph, pretty good, not bad.” He said with an affirming nod, before flexing his chest. “But I could’ve sworn I was...bigger. How’re you feeling?” Chrissy didn’t answer, rigid like a statue as they placed their fingers on their face, pressing deep into their cheeks. Then they started screaming. He lost control for a second more, jerking towards the grass. Sounds of small rocks and dirt flying on the inside of the wheel wells. “Get it off! Get it off me! Get it the FUCK off me!” “What’s going on?” They yelped, tugging at their pants. “It’s too weird, too fucking weird! Get it off me!” “What off you?” “THIS!” They pulled at their shirt collar, before immediately shaking his hands like they just grabbed a fist full of wet food. “Seriously? I don’t see anything wrong with it.” Chris said, poking their shirt with a finger, which was swatted away in a panicked swing. “Don’t touch me!” They shouted. “Oh god, I can feel it, all of it. The skin, the hair, it’s everywhere! Wrapped around my body, yet not on me at the same time. It’s still flesh, sewn within the cotton. I can feel the floorboard under the soles, fuck, my feet are the soles!” They turned to him, eyes bulging wide. “I can't do this, I need real clothes!” "Ok! Ok! We’ll get some real clothes, just calm down before you fucking wreck us!" He shouted, holding one hand up to protect his face from the constant flailing next to him. Chrissy calmed down at that, as they quickly turned back into a bird and began to hop around in circles on the seat. "Thank you, thank you!" "Sure." He replied, his voice low and tired. "But that's gonna have to wait till tomorrow, please. We got a lotta road ahead of us, and I've already dealt with enough for today." "Road? Where are we going?" He checked his phone, and noticed the small, blue trail on the screen stretching far and wide. The little model of a car looked like bacteria when the map was fully zoomed out. Like long shoe string that tied them to now and their long distant destination. "We're going home." "Why're we stopping here?" "It's just for the night is all." "But, it's a dump." "Then ask for the janitor's closet and clean it yourself. Otherwise, quit griping. You're not the one paying for it." "Really, you're gonna hold that one over my head? Y'know the Super is just a part of the title, right? That don't actually mean the quality of these places is...super. More like subpar, supremely average, at least they'd get points for honestly." Because at that point it wouldn't be the truth, nor the whole truth. Here, there would be nothing but the truth. This little motel smackdab between Bumfuck and Nowhere was a 5-star, grade A, FDA approved shithole. Strange how a place can be at Bumfuck, often found when people are at peak confusion, and Nowhere, which is pretty self explanatory, at the same time. Somewhere, yet it's always out of reach. Lost and, well, more lost. Words. He felt like he'd just stepped, or flew, given his choice of entry through an intact window, into a time capsule. One where color TV is considered high class, and asbestos was an acceptable part of the process of making wallpaper. Maybe the hope was you'd die from your war wounds before malicious cells ever had the chance to metastasize. That would explain the cheap felling of every thing's construction, beds of bricks and prison level bathrooms with condiments made for the insects that were crawling within their peeling walls. Ugh. Creepy. One of the many reasons why he never liked places such as this, cubes joined together that opened out into a parking lot. Nothing good ever comes from that! Nothing! Like this shampoo that dripped down into his eyes as he was scrubbing in the shower. "Dammit!" She growled, quickly rubbing her eye. His fake eye. On his fake body. It was so hard to do any mundane tasks now, especially anything involving the body. Now it felt like a dire, delicate operation that required surgical precision to pull off. Better be careful with the way you scrub your arm, lest you shear your skin and get squished in this tiny shower. How could he have done this all his life and never noticed? There should've been something to tip him off, something his parents would know. Maybe...it was a puberty related thing, and this was the consequence of a...very special growth spurt. Wouldn't have hurt to keep his gender, though. He sighed as he wiped himself off with a towel and chucked it to the side. "This is ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, you really couldn't find anywhere else to stay?" He asked through the walls. "Trying to save money for gas tomorrow, along with those clothes you want to buy. And like I said, just for tonight, maybe not even." That was another thing he didn't like, adding it to the laundry list. The acoustics of this place often left little to the imagination. One slight cough would sound like a goddamn shotgun blast. Luckily, there seemed to be no other cars out in the lot, and the only person Chris saw inside was a girl asleep behind the main desk. It only hit him now that he'd been frolicking in feathers for the past few hours now, and his actual clothes were nothing but charred up tatters back in the dorm. He opened the bathroom door slightly and poked his head out. "Hey, can you do me a favor?" Chris turned away from his phone to look at him. "Yeah?" "Could you, like, close your eyes, or maybe just turn around for a moment? Or many moments?" "Heh, what's the matter, you feeling exposed or something?" He laughed a little, but it quickly died down. "Sure, I'll letcha get on with that shapeshifting business." He swung his legs around in a 180 to the other side of the bed. "Thank you." He said quietly, even giving a tiny smile as he stepped out carefully into the main area of their motel room. The brisk chills of the AC making him cocoon in bubbling goosebumps. Completely exposed before a complete stranger completing an even stranger task It made his body feel numb, as he looked down sadly towards his hooves. "You can look now." It'd been so long since he'd been in this form, that he nearly tripped over himself and almost went headfirst into a bed post. "Actually, nevermind, not yet.” “Smooth moves there, Chrissy.” He got up from the bed with a stretch. He pointed towards his phone. "Says here, at the very least we still got about three or four hours till we get where we're going. If we can time it right, we'll be able to miss the morning rush, and any other unwanted acquaintances on patrol." His ear twitched at that. "Wait a minute, three or four?" He lowered his neck to look at the phone. "So we really are...we're really going home?" "That's the plan." He gave a happy snort and danced on his hooves a little. "Whew! Finally, something good for a change! It'd be great to see some familiar faces after everything that's happened. I wonder if they'd have any clue about what's going on?" "I'm not too sure that my mom would know what to do in this situation. I don't think there's anyone out there who'd have a plan for this, but it's a good place to start." "Someone we can trust." "I don't know about trust per say, rather I'd say..." He was trying to build up a point with empty words, but nothing came about. All this talk and still no answers, he'd never heard himself talk so much about nothing in just a few short hours. But it was a good thing they were talking, right? Getting acquainted with each other, building bridges, hand shaking shit. Right? That's a plus? But is it really that big of an achievement when all that was made was a mirror that learned to talk back? It could walk and feel emotions, maybe even think. But it was all a ruse. A copy. The twisted result through an act of mimicry. "Here's the deal, I'm gonna step outside for a moment and make a phone call, should only be a few minutes." He waved his free hand around the room. "You can pick where you want to sleep, any bed, I really don't care. Hell, you can sleep on the floor if you want." "Eww, no!" He recoiled, sticking out his tongue. "I'm not gonna lay down here, there's bugs crawling around here, I just know it!" "Well, that's quite rude of you." He scoffed. "What? That I don't like bed bugs?" "I mean, c'mon, have a little courtesy here. Even around extended family, they got feelings, too. I believe the proper terminology is bed fellows." One of Chrissy's eyes twitched violently, as the rest of his brow grew dim. "Excuse...me?" "Well, I- uh, was just making a joke is all-" "A joke, you call it? You consider that to be comedic?" "They're insects, and you kinda have the parts yourself, so I was trying to-" "Trying to what? Make a connection, a bond of some sorts? To put us on an even playing field?" He stomped closer to him, a repeat of what'd occurred prior that day, leaving little room between the two. Little room to move. To breathe. Chris sighed and held his hands up jokingly. "Listen, I didn't mean nothing by it, it's just-" "They are nothing!" She shouted, stamping a hoof and causing the room to vibrate slightly. "They are weak, squirming little shitstains, who could never compose themselves enough to hold a wet match to my offspring. They are nothing more than food, prey meant to be captured and eviscerated shrieking by a vast sea of predators before they could ever come to the realization that all of their crawling, all of their efforts and hardships were nothing more than seasoning for those far superior to salivate over. Watch them struggle as they try to escape! Panic filling their tiny brains, unable to comprehend the beginnings of their own oblivion!" She ground a hoof slowly with a sinister snicker. "We would never allow ourselves to fall, let alone associate, on a level comparable to those insects. We're far more capable, intelligent, and dignified to be labelled as such. We are years, no, light years, no, parsecs ahead of them! We would never fall for the same pathetic traps such as they. We are the rulers of our domain, of everything we desire. We take what is rightfully ours, and share it with no one. We are the apex, anywhere and everywhere is our hunting grounds. And we most certainly don't bed with- Ooh! Uuuuh-...ahh...mmm..." Her grand speech was put on hold as the wonderful scratching sensation filled her brain, as the other hand has busy massaging her neck. "Uh huh, you're a real apex predator alright." Chris chuckled as he watched her giant eyes begin to glaze over. Chrissy gave a pout while her head continued to lean into the scratches. "I'm...I am...mmm right there." "Yeah. Very scary." "Mmm hmm..." Chris shook his head and smiled, before pulling his hands back and giving a muted clap. "Boo!" He whispered. Chrissy jumped with a surprised chirp and looked around frantically, trying to comprehend what was going on. Eventually, she calmed down as the black of her face took on a shade of red and her ears flattened. "Heh heh, uh...what're we talking about?" She asked with a goofy smile. "Just trying to lighten the mood. Sorry it got you so riled up." He rubbed his cheek and frowned. "Just please don't do it again. I don't want to think about it...I don't..." "Noted." He replied as he walked towards the door, tapping on the phone screen. "I'll let you sort yourself out now, see ya in a minute." He said before slamming the door shut, killing the conversation and leaving her to stand in solitude. Chrissy sat there a moment staring at the door, when suddenly a rush of spontaneous anger swelled through her body. "Hmph." She swiveled on her hooves with an upturned nose. "Unbelievable, thinking he could lay his hands on a queen in a familiar motion. Let alone me, Chrysalis, and I...will...w-what? What the fuck am I...what am I doing?" His movement became woozy, stumbling side to side and his legs became crisscrossed. "Oh, my head. Why's my head...wh-" She tripped over and collapsed sideways onto the bed, the sheets splashing upwards in a maroon wave and submerging the middle of his body in itchy cotton. That don't change the fact I'm a human being... I'm a human being... His body. This freak-this thing that is was-belonged to her. It always had, from the very beginning. It was how everyone else, every other human, would see her. It didn't make any sense, was it something she did? Why did any of this happen? Why is this happening to him? Why? We're going home... My... But...but he had to have something of his own, right? He remembered how much he’d worked. All the money saved up, all the hours contributed. Computer parts and a car to show for his efforts, very acceptable rewards he always saw them. Just the fact he’d made it in this college to begin with. There had to be...something... ...Anything, a single thing. My mom... Mom... No...no, that's not true! It can't be! She had to know about him, surely! He could remember her! She had to remember, someone had to remember! "No." He whimpered into the pillow. "It won't be too long, right? I won't be...stuck like this...forever...right? R-Right?" He began to shake, rolling over onto her back, staring out onto the lines of moonlight seeping into the room. Her horn thumped onto the wall behind the bed, leaving her head at a painful angle. "You can't do this to me! You can't take this...everything! You can't! It’s not fair!" He tried to breathe, just like this morning, trying his best to pump enough air into his system to keep up with the rapidly pounding heart. "No, I can't live like this, I can't! Someone, anyone!" "...M-M-Mother, where are you? I need help, I'm having a terrible nightmare and I can't wake up!" My... He connected with the carpet with a disorienting crack on his cranium, his torso twisted towards the hidden light. While his lower half laid limp on the bed. Legs tingling with an ever dulling pain as he continued to stare outside the window. Watching as the rows of light brightened, expanded, merging with one another as the detail of the room became soft and undefined. He could've sworn he spotted a splotch of bright blue in the midst of the misty mix. But before he set off on this strange journey, his eyelids slowly closed, with his mouth croaking a few final words. "Goodbye world...goodbye mom..." "...Goodbye...everyone..."