[log] we wear red so they don't see us bleed [closed]

[bywolves]

Characters: Royce Melborn, Alfie Solomons
Location: Building 141
Date: Day 242, morning
Summary: Both boys are monsters, figuratively and literally.
Warnings: Body horror, possible gore, warnings for other things in subject headers

141: A post office, long-abandoned. There are a few empty white plastic bins where mail was once piled up, and the lobby area is still remarkably clean and polished. The back area isn't locked, so if you like you can go through the back and see the office with its locked safe and the back door that leads to the downtown area. Trees, impossibly tall men, and lots of Ⓧs have been drawn on the walls, along with ball-like things that are made up of tentacles and beaks and death and one circle in green crayon that's been scribbled over in charcoal.

Comments

[devoutish]

[Alfie inches closer in a crouch, claws scraping on the floor.]

Ahval. Ahvalda.

[bywolves]

[ Friend. My friend. It's a tense few seconds, but there's a small flicker of recognition in the monster's eyes. The claw doesn't come down. It stays, and actually curls, like he's getting ready to sink the knives in.

In a hoarse, scared, dual-tone voice, Royce mutters: ] Merea.

[devoutish]

[The relief hits Alfie like a physical wave, and he stumbles back a little.]

Yeah. Yeah, that's it.

What do you want me to do, mate?

[bywolves]

[ Royce shakes his head. The knives dig into his neck, puncturing the skin, and static-y white noise drips from the wound. ]

I can't - I can't think. [ Royce breathes, his form shivering. ] I'm cold.

[devoutish]

I told you I'd do it.

[And Alfie - backstabbing Alfie, who has no qualms about betraying promises to business partners - is absolutely not going to betray a promise to Royce.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce lets out a miserable sort of sound. The knives dig a little further in, and then he lets go. He's visibly struggling to try and speak, to do anything, like he's fighting with something nobody can see. Behind him, Gwen murmurs something soft, and he flinches, sinking down.

And then he starts to pull his cloak off.

The problem is, it's attached. It's threaded to his skin, though the loops are still loose. The cloak comes away, but it's like ripping seams made of flesh - he rips a long section away from his arm and screams, and it's his voice, not the dual-tone, not the monster's. But he doesn't stop. He needs it away from him. ]

[devoutish]

Royce! Stop.

[Alfie doesn't know, exactly, what he's doing and why. Is he trying to tear himself apart? There's no need to do that. Alfie will do it for him; he'll make it quick and painless.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce doesn't stop - he doesn't even know if this is going to help, but maybe, just maybe, if he tears the cloak off he won't turn into the anomaly this place is trying to make him. It's a reasonably quick process because he doesn't stop, he just rips it from his skin with a series of agonized noises, completely ignoring Alfie's command.

And when it's off, he throws it away from him, collapsing in a heap. The cloak looks fine - it looks normal. But Royce is bleeding, his shadowy, transluscent figure dripping static blood on the floor. He looks like what the silhouette of a human man should look like, if he were made of too-long limbs, had no hair and a too-wide mouth, legs bent backwards like a four-legged animal. It's a mess to look at, but he's alive. ]

[devoutish]

Fucking idiot--

[He says it out of love, really. He edges over to Royce, pulling a blanket along with him.]

Here, take this.

[bywolves]

[ He curls up in a ball on the floor, not protesting the blanket. The pain is keeping him aware, but he doesn't know for how long. He looks up at Alfie, the light in his eyes flickering. ]

I don't - I don't know how long... [ He starts, hoarse. ]

[devoutish]

I told you I'd do it. I'll keep that promise.

[But only if Royce is sure. Only if he asks for it.]

[bywolves]

I don't think I can stay in my own head. [ Royce mutters, closing his eyes. ] Just - just do it. Just do it.

[devoutish]

[Alfie forces himself to take a deep breath, steeling himself. Then he lifts a clawed hand to Royce's neck. One last chance to change your mind, buddy.]

[bywolves]

[ Losing his mind is horrifying. Losing - losing any sort of autonomy is horrifying. He doesn't want to let it get so bad that he can't remember who he is, and he doesn't want to wait until he can't be killed. Royce opens his eyes, looking up at Alfie. ]

It has to be now. If we wait, you might not be able to do it. Might be invincible, like anomalies. Just - now. [ Royce pauses, and then reaches up with claws of his own to hold onto Alfie's wrist for a moment. ]

... Thank you. [ He breathes. ] Thank you.

[devoutish]

[There's blatant horror in Alfie's eyes at what he's about to do, but he gives Royce a nod.]

Yeah.

[He waits one long moment, and then he swipes, hard, across Royce's throat.

The problem with doing this with his handclaws is that he's not used to them, and he's clumsy. He'd been trying to go for a quit slice across the jugular, but his hand is heavy, and it slips to the side. The resulting cut is deep, but not in the right place for a quick and easy death.]

[bywolves]

[ It's a clumsy slice, and it's not enough. Not enough to kill him straight up. What is enough is the pain - it wakes the monster back up, and Royce's pained gurgle dissolves into something much more like the roar of an anomaly. Royce is gone - the monster, devoid of the cloak, writhes and slashes at Alfie, trying to get away. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie gets a long across the shoulder, which makes him yell - it's not deep, but it takes him by surprise. He strikes out again, more instinctively this time, trying to push Royce away and cutting him across the chest in the process.]

[bywolves]

[ The anomaly makes a hell of a lot of noise, banging around as it tries to pull itself up. It slips on its own blood once, twice, and then kicks, trying to get Alfie away from it. It doesn't aim, but that kick might be close to the gash on Alfie's shoulder. Either way, it skitters off, leaving a trail of blood behind it as it races out of the house.

Right behind it runs Gwen, chasing it out into the snow. ]

[devoutish]

[Fuck. Fuck. Alfie collapses onto the floor, hand pressed over his shoulder as he stares at the door. His claws dig needles into his back, but he doesn't notice.

Behind him, Fiona sighs dramatically, and says nothing.]

[bywolves]

[ The monster runs for hours. It loses steam around lockdown, though, and that's about when Royce wakes up, groggy and in severe amounts of pain. He stumbles and falls, hitting the steps up into the musty, ruined house. For a while, he lays there, wheezing, until Gwen crouches down next to him. ]

Get up. [ She says, soft, resting a hand on his shoulder, and then she stands and walks into the house. Royce slowly, slowly drags himself up into the house. He's inside. And the doors lock.

He's bleeding a lot, and he's woozy, but he's - alive. He's here. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie's bleeding too, but he can already tell that has long as it doesn't get infected, it's not going to kill him. He's going to leave some stains on their blankets, but he's not thinking about that now. He's trying, for the moment, not to think about much of anything.

He'd meant what he'd told Royce about killing. He's killed a lot of people, sometimes in pretty brutal ways, and he's never regretted it once. Sure, sometimes a situation didn't go the way he'd hoped, but that was different. When it came down to it, he only pulled the trigger (or swung the cane, or slashed the knife) when he was sure that he could deal with the aftermath, and that included the psychological aftermath. There was no room for uncertainty in his life. He couldn't do his job properly if he spent all his time being wracked with guilt.

Alfie feels guilt now. It sits heavy on his chest, keeping him from getting up. So he just lies there on his back - claws splayed out on the floor, blood slowly oozing out of his skin and wetting his fur.

He's alive. He's here. He wishes he wasn't.]

[bywolves]

[ It doesn't take much time at all for Royce to realize he's alive, but not for long.

He drags himself to a place where he can lay down comfortably, and clumsily clacks at his tablet. He doesn't have his things. Just his tablet, which he keeps on his person at all times. It's cold, and he's barely able to talk, but he calls John. And when that's done, he calls Alfie.

Please pick up, buddy. ]

[devoutish]

[Once he sees who it is, Alfie answers immediately.]

Are you inside?

[bywolves]

Yeah. [ He's wheezing, voice wrecked. ] Doesn't matter.

[devoutish]

[Well, that makes his heart drop into his stomach.]

How bad?