Part Six of the Switch AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of an ongoing fic series I started in April 2019. In a short break from the current problems facing the group, Marvin gets a cat.]
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“I don’ recognize t’is part of town,” Marvin muttered, staring out the car window at the streets whizzing by. Not too intently though, he still wasn’t used to how fast cars went now. “Are you goin’ t’finally tell me what we’re doin’ here?”

“Hang on a moment, we’re almost there, just let me park.” JJ carefully maneuvered the small car into an empty space, turning it off with a twist of the keys. “Alright, here we are!”

Marvin looked out the front window at the store they’d parked in front of, reading the name emblazoned on the sign. He squinted. “Is…is t’is a pet store?”

“Surprise!” JJ smiled, accompanied by a joyful fluttering of fingers. “I wanted to get you a pet!”

Marvin blinked. “Why?”

JJ’s smile faltered a bit before he recovered his cheer. “Well, I thought it would help you adjust to this new…environment. And also…” His joyful expression fell once more, becoming serious. “I sometimes worry about you being home all by yourself. It might get lonely, you know, and I can’t keep asking the others to stop by even though they keep saying they’d be happy to.”

“Oh, so you’re saying t’at I can’ be alright wit’out you?” Marvin chuckled as JJ suddenly started stammering excuses. “It’s alright, I know what y’mean. Are you sure about t’is? Pets can be difficult to take care of. I’m okay wit’out one.”

“Well, yes, but also…small animals are cute.”

Another chuckle. “Alright. I s’pose I can’ change your mind once you’ve got it made up. Lead the way.”

JJ paused. “I’d hoped you be a bit more enthusiastic, to be honest.” Marvin didn’t answer, just shrugged. JJ exhaled a puff of air, then continued. “Well, we can’t do anything just sitting in the car. Come on.” He opened the door and stepped out, and Marvin soon followed.

The inside of the pet store was about what you’d expect, a main reception desk and walls covered in cute posters about the adoption process and how to take care of your animals. A few workers wearing blue shirts and nametags were milling about. One immediately walked up to JJ and Marvin. “Hi, can I help you?” she asked.

JJ looked over at Marvin, who gave an indifferent shrug. “Well, we’d like to adopt today,” JJ explained.

“Oh that’s wonderful! Do you know what type of animal you’re looking for? We have dogs, cats, rabbits, birds, snakes, hamsters and gerbils—”

“Cat,” Marvin jumped in before she could list every possible pet that existed. Yeah, cats could take care of themselves. He didn’t have to devote himself to that.

“I’m a cat person, myself,” the worker—her nametag read Kendra—said with a laugh. “If you would follow me through this door I can show you our cat kennels.

Marvin was expecting walls lined with cat carriers, and there were a few side rooms of that. But Kendra instead led them down a hall to a large room with wide windows that was entirely taken up by cat condos and trees, multilayered carpeted platforms with scratching poles and little houses to hide in. There were even a few mounted on walls. Around the perimeter of the rooms were benches for visitors and baskets of cat toys. Naturally, there were cats everywhere, of all shapes and sizes. Brown, white, black, tabby, calico, short-hair, long-hair, and every -hair in between. There were already some people inside interacting with them; what looked like a mom and two kids and an elderly couple.

“This is our playpen. Not all our cats are out right now, but this is a good place to get to know them,” Kendra explained. “If you don’t find one who appeals to you, I can take you into their actual kennels. We also have a selection of toys, beds, and other entertainment items, if you want to check those out.”

“Well,” JJ started, “we might not—”

“Jems, you can go look at those,” Marvin interrupted. “I’m goin’ t’stay in here for a while and see what happens.”

JJ gave him a look, but then said, “Okay, if you insist. Come get us if you need anything. Miss, if you can show me where that is…”

JJ left the room with Kendra, and Marvin immediately walked over and sat on a bench in a corner, near one of the cat trees. He watched the others in the room play with the cats, petting them and picking them up and dangling cat toys in front of their faces. That all seemed well and good, he supposed. But he didn’t really feel any urge to join in himself. So he just watched.

There was a slight movement in the corner of his eyes. He glanced over at the cat tree nearby. There was a pair of green eyes hidden inside the shadows of one of those little house-structures that sat on the tree. They were looking at him. Marvin stared at the eyes for a while more, then looked away, turning back to the room at large. He watched the pair of children entertain a black kitten with a laser pointer for a while. Weren’t they supposed to be bad luck? A cat like that would need a home, maybe if he had to get one he could pick that one up. But didn’t kittens require special care?

There was another movement. Marvin looked back over to the cat tree to see one had climbed out and hopped to the ground. It was mostly shades of brown and tan, with some darker brown stripes. Its muzzle and chest were white. Marvin presumed that its belly and paws were white as well, but given how it was sitting in that “loaf” position, and how its fur was extremely long and poofy, Marvin couldn’t exactly see its paws. Overall, it looked a bit like a burnt marshmallow. A marshmallow that was staring directly at Marvin.

Marvin, in turn, blinked at it. “What is it?” Obviously, the cat did not answer, and after it didn’t move for a while Marvin turned away again. But only a minute later, there was a warm, soft ball pressing next to his leg. He startled, and looked down to see the cat was now a ball of fluff sitting next to him on the bench. He raised an eyebrow. “What? D’you want attention? I can’ really tell, I don’ speak cat body language. I have trouble enough with the human kind.”

The cat kept staring at him with its big green eyes. After a moment, he gently set his hand on the cat’s back. When there was no reaction, he slowly began petting the length of it. The cat squinted its eyes, and after a while, started purring. “You wanted t’at? Well, I don’ mind. You’re very soft, a lot of fluff. Pleasant to touch. And you’re a han’some cat as well.” After a while of petting, Marvin stalled. He hesitated, then started petting the cat’s head.

With a stall in the purring, the cat opened its mouth wide and yawned. Then it shook itself, causing Marvin to sharply withdraw his hand, and climbed to its feet, stretching. Marvin thought it would leave next, but instead it padded even closer and clambered onto his lap, standing there. “Oh!” Marvin gasped, surprised. “Y’could warn a man first.”

The cat kept eye contact, sitting on his lap. And now that it was out of the “loaf” position, Marvin noticed something. He was right about the belly and paws being white, but also…while its left front leg was as expected, its right front leg ended in a stump. Marvin blinked. “Oh, I see. Y’have trouble in t’at area, then? Well, you’re not alone in the world, Mr. cat.” He reached out and scratched the cat below its ears. It squinted its eyes, then it stood up again, walked closer, and vaulted onto its two hind legs, placing its front paw on Marvin’s chest. “Hey! T’is is a nice jacket, don’ get your fur all over it,” Marvin chuckled, maintaining the ear-scratching.

Another slow blink from the cat. This time, followed by a soft sound, a small “mrrp.”

“Oh my goodness,” Marvin whispered, eyes wide. “T’at was the best sound.” His chest was suddenly light and bouncy inside. “Okay, you’re comin’ wit’ me.” He scooped up the cat, which didn’t wiggle at all as he carried it across the room, out the door of the playpen and into the hallway. From there, it was luckily only a short wandering before he found an open archway that led to a room full of various pet products, and as he walked inside he caught sight of JJ and the worker from before, Kendra. She was holding what a leash and talking to him. “—once they’re harness-trained you can take them outside for walks, like you can with dogs. But of course, training takes—” The worker glanced over as Marvin walked inside the room. Her eyes widened. “Sir, you can’t take the cats out of their kennel area!”

“Why not?” Marvin asked. “T’is one is doin’ fine.”

JJ looked over, and the moment he saw the bundle of fluff in Marvin’s arm his face lit up. “Did you find one you like, Marvin?”

“Well, I’d say t’is pretty kitty found me, act’ally.” Marvin bounced the cat a bit. “Walked up to me.”

JJ gasped, covering his open mouth with a hand. “That’s adorable,” he whispered.

Kendra seemed to have recovered from the shock of seeing a cat in an area it wasn’t supposed to be. “That’s Trio,” she said with a smile. “He’s a rescue. Got hit by a car, unfortunately, and a stranger brought him here. He’s a five-years-old Siberian, and he’s a pretty quiet cat. Liable to snuggle with you while you’re sitting, or even sleeping in bed. He’ll go after laser pointers and other toys, but not as enthusiastically as other cats.”

“T’at sounds wonderful,” Marvin said, distracted by the fact that the cat was now pressing his face into Marvin’s neck. “Trio’s an odd name, why is it?”

“Well, because of the…ah…you know…his, ah…situation…” Kendra seemed reluctant to continue, especially when Marvin’s head shot back toward her with a hard stare.

“I understan’ t’at people often name cats after t’eir features,” he said slowly. “But you didn’ see any problem with t’at particular name?” You know, like the only thing unique about this cat was his legs. Like that was the only thing about him that mattered.

“I didn’t name him,” Kendra hurried to say. “And it’s only temporary, if you adopt him, you can change it.”

JJ looked at Marvin, clearly trying to keep a calm expression. “Do you want to? Adopt him, I mean?”

Marvin looked down at the cat’s tiny face. “Y…yes,” he said, his voice a bit softer than normal. He looked back up at JJ’s excited face and frowned. “You knew this would happen, didn’ you?”

“That you’d get emotionally attached to one and love them? Well, I hoped it,” JJ said, a big grin on his face. “I know you were reluctant, but you’re reluctant about a lot of things, Marvin. A cat’ll be good for you.”

“Yes, yes, alright,” Marvin rolled his eyes. “Let’s finish t’is process so we can take him home already.”

About a half hour later, Marvin and JJ were back in the car. There was now a cat bed, a scratching post, and other cat materials in the back seat. Marvin, in the passenger seat, had a cat carrier on his lap with a burnt marshmallow-colored ball of fluff inside. The ball of fluff had a new green collar with a silver label, and was meowing intently at Marvin. “It’s only for a little while,” Marvin responded. “I t’ink we live close by. T’ough don’ ask me how we get home, I don’ know.” More meowing. “Calm down, Mister, it’ll be fine. I can give you a new toy to distract you, if ye want.”

“Did you just call the cat ‘Mister’?” JJ asked, amused, as he started the car.

“Yes, his name is Mr. Fluffington, and he deserves your respect,” Marvin said without even looking up.

“I see. Well, tell Fluffington it’s nice to meet him.”

“Mr. Fluffington, who do you t’ink you are?”

JJ laughed. “Yes, alright then, Mr. Fluff.”

Marvin looked back down at the newly christened Mr. Fluffington. “Jems says it’s nice to meet you. Ye’ll be seein’ a lot of him.” Fluffington meowed. Marvin grinned. “He likes you.”

“I’m glad. And I’m glad you like him too.”

“I wasn’ expectin’ it, if I’ll be honest.” Marvin unzipped the lid of the carrier just enough to reach inside. “But…I t’ink I’ll be happy to have him around.”

Mr. Fluffington nuzzled Marvin’s hand and he laughed. JJ smiled as he watched. He knew this would be a good idea. These two seemed like they would get along perfectly.

Part Ten of the Inverted AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a fic series I wrote from December 2018 to August 2021. It seems Stacy's got herself wrapped up in this situation with Anti. Though it seems as if she might've gotten wrapped into it eventually, given who, exactly, is involved in this single group causing a lot of the criminal trouble in the city.]
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Honestly, Stacy had been expecting an abandoned warehouse. She didn’t know if there were any even in the city, but the creepy-crazy atmosphere of the whole night had told her 'yes, that is totally where we’ll go next.' Her second guess was a run-down ruin of a house in the suburbs, probably the site of a suspicious death. But what wasn’t even on her list of guesses was this: a perfectly normal office building in the middle of the city.

“What the hell are you waiting for?” Anti asked. She’d froze in place just outside the door.

“Um, won’t the people inside notice us?” Stacy asked. “And stop us because we’re, uh, not supposed to be there?”

“Hmm…no. Now come on.” He didn’t even bother to open the door, just dissolved, taking Sam the eye with him, and reappeared on the other side as if taunting her with his noticeable-ness.

Feeling her face getting hot and hating it, Stacy pulled open the door and rushed inside. There was a reception desk, and a waiting area full of chairs. It was very gray and boring. There were two people in the waiting area and one behind the desk. The two were staring intently down at their phones, and the receptionist was enthralled by his computer screen. Anti ignored them all and walked right to the elevator. As Stacy followed him, she realized something: those people were awfully interested in their electronics; they didn’t even glance up at the sound of footsteps. It was like…they COULDN'T…

The elevator doors closed the moment Stacy was inside. She glanced nervously at Anti, who pressed the button for the top floor, then folded his arms and stopped moving altogether. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. As if sensing her unease, Sam darted around Anti and started bumping her arm affectionately. They looked up at her, their pupil wide, then nuzzled her further. Stacy smiled. Okay, maybe she can wait to see what happens.

Ding! The doors opened, and Anti and Stacy stepped out onto the top floor. It was completely dark, but that didn’t last long. A series of red, green, and blue LED lights flicked on. Mostly hanging from the ceiling, though a few were strung on cables on the walls. Stacy gasped as the vivid lighting revealed a dragon’s hoard of technological devices. Racks of CPUs acted as walls dividing the wide open space of the floor into rooms. A few were freestanding, more like pillars. Monitors were mounted on the walls, attached to the CPUs, dangling from the ceiling, everywhere. Cables and wires connected everything: red, yellow, white, black, grey, blue, thick, thin, rubber, plastic, bundled, individual—every variation you could imagine.

“Welcome to my hub.” Anti stood in the middle of the first “room,” arms spread wide. “You’re the only person who’s seen it so far.”

“Jesus Christ,” Stacy said softly. She looked around in awe, taking in the blinking lights on the CPUs and the multitude of cables. A few of the monitors switched on all by themselves, showing nothing but vague shapes in static. Sam flew about, looking at every little thing. “How-how does this place even WORK?”

“I ma͝ke̡ it work,” Anti said matter-of-factly. “It’s just dead wires without me. Now c’mon, we need to get your arm fixed. And your forehead is starting to bruise too.”

At this point, Stacy had begun to tune out the constant throbbing from the burn, and she’d completely forgotten about the sticky pain from where her head hit the shelf and knocked her out. But Anti’s words brought it back in full force. She winced. “Oh, that’d probably, um, be a good idea, huh?”

“Probably.” Anti rolled his eyes, then turned and walked through a gap in the CPU “wall,” letting Stacy follow. She was really starting to get sick of him doing this.

Passing through a few more “rooms,” they came to one on the outside of the building. Stacy could tell because one of the walls was covered in black trash bags, but one had started to slip, revealing a window with a nice view of the city outside. This area had a table sitting near one of the walls of racks. On the table was another computer monitor, of course, and various medical supplies. Mostly bandages, though there was also a needle and thread, some bottles, and… and… “Is that a knife?” Stacy squeaked.

“No. This͠ i̶s a ͏k͡nif̶e̛.” Anti waved around the knife he’d been brandishing back at the diner. Stacy jumped. Where did it come from? Did it just appear and disappear at will? “That’s a scalpel.”

“It has dried blood on it!”

“Yes. Actually, I didn’t mean to pick it up. It just… hi͝tchęd͡ ̡a ̕ri̡de͏ last time, so I pulled it out and kept it as a souvenir.”

“Somebody STABBED you and you KEPT it?”

“Yes.” Anti glitched over to the table and started fiddling with the bottles. “Now hold on while I find the burn salve.”

Stacy shut her mouth, remembering why he’d even brought her here in the first place. Awkwardly, she stood by the one exposed window and waited. Sam zoomed over to hover by her head. They scooted closer to the window, peered, out, then shrank back, partially hiding in Stacy’s curtain of blonde curls. “Not a fan of heights, huh?” she muttered. “Don’t worry, my son isn’t either. I understand.” With a single finger, she reached up and gently patted the eye. They were kind of sticky, but…not unpleasantly so. Sam’s pupil squished, like they were closing their eyes, and their optic nerve swished happily.

“Got it!” Anti yelled triumphantly. “Get over here!” Stacy flinched, then crept over to the table, Sam still in her hair. Anti twisted open the lid of a jar, revealing a bluish-white paste. “This is supposed to be rubbed on the area of burning, then you put a bandage on it because at that point it becomes a normal burn, and you don’t want that to get infected I assume.”

“I can—I can do that myself, thanks,” Stacy said hastily.

Anti raised an eyebrow. “Didja think I wa̛n̢t͢ed͡ to do this for you? Fuck no. You’re d͏e͢fi͞n̨i̛tȩly̡ doing this yourself.” He pushed he jar of salve into her hands.

“Oh…” she had, indeed, thought that. She didn’t know why…maybe his creepy vibe just made her think he would be the type to invade personal space. Apparently, it was the opposite.

While Stacy carefully smeared the paste on the burn area, wincing every time the cool salve touched the still-hot flesh, Anti picked up a roll of bandages from the table. Frowning at it, he carefully unwrapped the scarf from his neck. Stacy paused momentarily as she stared at the bloody bandages around his throat. Then, he unwrapped those as well, and she gasped, dropping the jar.

His head whipped toward her, much faster than it should’ve been able to. “What?”

“Your neck! What the fuck?!” Stacy almost reached out, then stopped halfway. “It’s—are you—how—”

“Oh.” Anti poked the cut. Stacy couldn’t help but cringe, resisting the urge to touch her throat. The deep slice ran all the way across his neck, bleeding profusely. He should’ve been dead…or was he already? “I forget about it until the bandages start getting super wet. It’s very inconvenient.”

“But—how—but—” Stacy stammered. “Does it hurt? Are you in pain?”

“P͡a̧i̶n..̛.̕” Anti said the word like it tasted new in his mouth. “No.”

“Th-that’s not possible. Are-are you sure?”

“Of course.” Anti unrolled the bandages. “If I’ve ever felt pain, I don’t remember it. It took me a long time to get that I was the odd one out. What’s it even for?”

It took a while for Stacy to find her voice again. After three attempts, she finally succeeded in stammering, “It-it-it’s supposed to tell you when something is-is wrong. With your, uh, your body.”

“No, no, I get that part.” Anti waved away her words. His knife reappeared, and he cut a length of bandage away from the rest of the roll. “What I don’t get is when people are in so much pain that they can’t function. Why? You can’t fix the problem if you can’t move.”

“I don’t know enough about biology to answer that,” Stacy muttered.

Anti wrapped the new bandages around his neck injury. Immediately, the clean white cloth began showing speckles of red. “You finished with the burn?” he asked. When Stacy nodded, he handed the roll to her. “Take that then. Thanks for breaking the jar, by the way.”

“Sorry…” Stacy mumbled. “You can—you can get another, right?”

“Eventually.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“Now, if you’re all fixed,” Anti grabbed his scarf, “you can show yourself out.” And he disappeared, breaking into pixels that faded away.

“Wha…” Stacy stood there awkwardly, staring at the spot where he’d been just moments before. Did he seriously just…he went to all the effort of getting her here, fixing her burn, and then he leaves her? Well, he hadn’t seemed too eager to have her tagging along in the first place, but he could have at least told her how to get out. She could probably figure it out. Probably.

Sam followed her as she tried to retrace her steps back to the elevator. They’d passed through three or four rooms of varying sizes on the way, and they’d turned once. It couldn’t be that hard.

And with this in mind, Stacy proceeded to get totally lost.

With a sigh, she stopped, standing in the middle of a square room. “Sam, you wouldn’t happen to know the way out, would you?” she asked. The little eye hovered, seeming to squint. Then they turned, and slowly flew through a gap into another room, as if saying “I THINK it’s this way…”

It was not that way. The room beyond was a dead end; it had no more gaps in the walls of CPUs. There was an unusually high concentration of monitors here, practically covering every surface, including all over two CPU pillars in the middle. But these monitors weren’t showing static. They were constantly flickering, never staying on one image for more than a couple seconds. Stacy stepped closer to one. It was showing…websites. Social media, mostly. As she watched, it became an Instagram account, then an explore page on some blog site, then a YouTube video, then a screen from Twitter, then another YouTube video. This was interrupted by a local news website, with an article about recent trouble in the city.

“Oh my god,” Stacy whispered. Were all the screens like this? She turned and watched the ones on the pillars in the center of the room. These ones were different. They looked like security monitors. Every one showed a still image of a room. There were little labels in the bottom right corners of each screen, identifying them. Operating room, left hallway, loading dock, training room, conference room…walking around the pillars, Stacy counted twelve rooms under surveillance, from various angles.

“Sam, this is…interesting, but it’s not the way out,” she said. And right now, she really wanted to get out. “Let’s go.” She turned away.

The little eyeball flew at her face, bonking against her cheek. “Ah! What—” Stacy tried to swat them away, gently of course, but Sam just bonked even more insistently at her hands. “What is it?” Stacy hissed. Sam darted away, zooming in front of a screen and tapping it with their nerve-tail.

Stacy narrowed her eyes. “Sam, did you want me to come in this room?” The eye responded by tapping frantically.

It didn’t make sense. Sam had never been in this hub before, how would they have known where this room was? And how would they know it had something of interest to Stacy in it? Maybe Sam was psychic. They were already a sentient floating green eyeball, what’s being psychic compared to that? Well, it didn’t matter. Sam wasn’t going to let Stacy leave until she saw whatever was on this monitor. She leaned in close…

“Chase?!”

“S̸o y̢ou̡ ̷dǫ ̶know ͏hi͝m.͡”

Stacy shrieked. She spun around with too much force and ended stumbling, almost following to the floor. Anti was next to her, the air around him full of spasms and glitches. He was staring at her intently. Hastily, Stacy backed away.

“I was looking you up,” Anti said casually. A screen next to him turned to static, then began rapidly switching between images. “Facebook status single, but you have two kids. Constantly searching for new jobs, been denied for everything so far because you never finished college. And if you go back far enough, there’s a certain someone who appears in a lot of pictures you’ve posted.” He pointed to the monitor that showed the security footage. “That’s not actually who you think it is. All of them look pretty similar, so I don’t blame you for thinking it was your—”

“Stop!” Stacy screamed. Anti took a step back, eye widening. “You—you shouldn’t know these things! This is my life! This is—it’s a violation of privacy! You shouldn’t—don’t—leave me alone! Leave everyone alone!” Then she turned and ran.

She couldn’t find the way out. Why couldn’t she find the way out? It shouldn’t be this difficult. But the endless racks of computers and the never ending screens of static and the cables and wires that could be tripped upon—it made the floor a maze. Twists and turns, and Stacy just kept running. Until finally she reached another dead end. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she collapsed to the ground, leaning against one of the racks. She put her head in her hands.

Something bumped against her head. Stacy looked up to see Sam, their iris curved downward in a sad expression. They gently rested their “head” against hers. It was sweet.

A screen on the wall fizzed, and Anti appeared beside her. She squeaked, then edged away. Anti stood perfectly still, the glitches and distortions around him fading away. Sam flew toward him, circling around him a couple times before coming to rest on his shoulder. Anti glanced at them, then…smiled. A gentle smile. It faded away when he looked back at Stacy. “I’m…sorry.”

Stacy stared at him. “No, you’re not.”

“I…maybe.” Anti sat down. “I didn’t mean to make you freak out. I wish I didn’t. Does that mean I’m sorry?”

“Don’t know,” Stacy said honestly. “You were—you were spying on me.”

“No. I was investigating you. You reacted so strange when I showed up at your diner, and then when you gave me your name you were about to say something else, before you changed it. I wondered if you were connected to that trigger-happy maniac. Or, maybe trigger-angry would be a better description.” He laughed at his own comment.

Stacy bristled. “Chase isn’t a maniac.”

“Of course you would say that, he’s your husband.”

“Well, I mean, we—we’re not married anymore. We got a, um, divorce.”

“And why did you do that?”

“I…” Stacy trailed off. It was two years ago that they’d divorced. Or rather, when she asked for a divorce. Why had she done it…? Her excuse was that he was terrible with finances, and that they’d gotten married early and she’d fallen out of love.

But…she remembered when she first told Chase she wanted to be separated. He’d pleaded with her, begged her, to reconsider. She gave it another shot. And she watched him more closely. He was away a lot, always obsessed with his stupid YouTube channel, needing to get the views, needing to constantly up the ante to get the attention he craved. The kids would ask when their dad would be home, and she’d have to tell them over and over that she didn’t know. She told him a second time that she wanted a divorce, and this time, she didn’t let up. He told her he couldn’t live without her. He said that the kids were his as much as hers. He threatened to kill himself if she went through with it. It…scared her, actually. And after the proceedings went through, and the court ruled he wasn’t fit to raise kids, he sent her a video in an email, subject line: “this is your fault.” Watching it…

“But that doesn’t give you the right to-to spy on him!” Stacy blurted out, as if Anti was somehow able to read the thoughts that had been running through her head. “And-and what about those people downstairs? You—it’s like you hypnotized them or something!”

Anti blinked, slowly. The first time she’d seen his eyes close at all. “I'̧m̷ ͏no̢ţ a̢ filt͠hy͝ ͠fųc͡ki̧n̶g ̡hypn̷o͝tis̨t,” he growled. “N̨o̵t l̸ik̵e͡ s҉͎̞̹͔̬̻͡o̵̤͕͔͔͈m̷̭̳͍̫̤̦e̛҉̹̲̤͍ pe͏̧o̧p̡̕͠l̸̸ę͢. Those in the lobby were just in a trance. They came out of it the moment we left, and weren’t aware that time passed. No harm done.” He paused. “ U͠͏͞n͏͟l͏͝i͢k͞e ş̢o͞m̧e͏ p̛͞eo̵̶pl̕e̷’s t͟͞r̕ic͡k̷̕s̕.”

That still didn’t sound good. “But-but it was still mind control.”

“No, it wasn’t. If they wanted, they just needed to look away from their screens to break the trance. That’s happened to me before. It’s just easier if they don’t notice me.”

“Oh.” That was…underwhelming. “So, so then why are you spying on Chase?”

“Not just him.”

Six screens in the room blinked away their static. They flickered through a variety of images. Stacy’s eyes darted to and fro, taking in everything. On one monitor, there were pictures of Chase, interspersed with what looked like news reports. On another, Stacy recognized the man in the cat-shaped mask, Marvin, along with strange symbols and nonsense words.

“How much do you know about the situation in the city?” Anti asked.

“Like, on the news?” When Anti nodded, Stacy continued. “I know there’s been some disappearances lately. A…I mean, I don’t want to freak my kids out, but…a concerning amount. And there are a lot of criminal gangs, but they’re being taken out by each other. And some people are…they’re worse than disappearing.” She swallowed nervously.

“The news doesn’t cover everything,” Anti said darkly. “The people who are ‘worse than disappearing?’ They’re coming back in pieces. The gangs and mobs aren’t being taken out by each other, but by one psycho who decided one day that h̸͞ę knew what was best. And the ones going missing are just labelled as such because they never find the bodies. This place has gone to s̨͟hit͡, Stacy. And your ex is involved. He’s part of this whole little group, the same guys I rescued Sam from. They’ve been causing trouble all this time, so I ͡wa͏tch͢ them, trying to keep track of all five’s antics so I can stop them. F̧or̨ ͡go͡o̸d̕.͞”

“What?! No no no no, Chase isn’t—even he wouldn’t get involved with—”

“You know, he’s awfully fond of that gun of his, right?”

Stacy shuddered. “Y-yes. He—after we got a divorce, he—”

“Sometimes, the only way to get out your frustration about your shitty life is to make sure nobody gets to be happier than you.”

“I—I don’t—” Stacy stuttered. She didn’t want to believe him. But she was starting to. And she hated that. “He is my kids’ father.”

“You couldn’t have known. And maybe he was different, before. Humans change. Circumstances change.”

“You’re not helping!” Stacy hissed.

“I’m not?” Anti sounded faintly curious. “Oh, well. Do you still want to leave?”

“…yeah,” Stacy muttered. She stood up. “I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I-I need a new job, I need to understand this,I-I-I—”

Anti glitched into an upward position. Sam jumped off his shoulder and zoomed toward Stacy, bopping her head. That got a small grin from her. “You may be going into shock,” Anti said casually. “You should probably get home before everything comes crashing down.”

“I don’t—how do I get there from here?” Stacy asked softly.

Anti’s head tilted to the side. The distortion increased, and some of the nearby monitors flickered. “Am I ALLOWED to give you directions on your phone?”

“O-oh!” Stacy reached into the pocket of her uniform. She’d completely forgotten about her phone in all this craziness. That was a miracle for this day and age. “Y-yeah, I guess. I just thought—I mean, I know it’s ridiculous, but I thought you’d, uh, walk me there, like you walked me here?”

“I can’t keep this body stable for much longer,” Anti said. “And that was a special case. To show you the way and how to fix the burn.”

“Wh-what was that first part?” Stacy asked faintly.

Anti rolled his eyes. “Think of everything you’ve seen this evening. Is it too far to tell you that I’m not a physical entity and I’m just copying someone’s body for a short period of time?”

“Uh…that’ll probably make more sense when I think about it later. But…whose body?”

“Not important.” The way Anti said those two words left no room for discussion, but Stacy noticed the sixth monitor suddenly switch off completely. It must’ve been a touchy subject. “Now come on, I’ll get you back to the elevator.”

An ironically short walk through the technological maze later, the two of them were standing back in front of the elevator. The door opened on its own. “There’s nobody downstairs except for the receptionist right now,” Anti said.

“How do you—”

“This building has security cameras. The system is easy to hack, fo̢r ͞m̡ę. Now, are you going to throw a fit about putting him in a trance, or are you going to take the risk of him asking you who you are and how you got up there?”

Nervousness about social interaction. He’d only known her for a few hours, and he already knew exactly what to say. Stacy sighed. “No, you-you can do that.” She stepped into the elevator. “Well…goodbye.” Anti waved a bit, and Sam bounced up and down in the air. The doors closed behind her.

What would she do with all she’d learned tonight? How would she fit into this new world she’d discovered? Just yesterday she’d been a struggling single mom with a crappy waitress job, now she was unemployed and knew that her ex was a criminal. Was it better to know this?

Maybe it was. Because she also knew that there was somebody out there trying to fix this messed-up city. Sure, he was an asshole and struggled with relating to the people he was trying to keep safe, but he was TRYING, and that was what mattered. He could get better.

And at the very least, her life had just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

Part Nine of the Inverted AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a fic series I wrote from December 2018 to August 2021. Stacy doesn't expect anything odd to happen at her night shift, but that changes when a strange, familiar-looking man walks in, acting odd. Things quickly go upside-down, and she gets swept up in a fight...with magic.]
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Even though The Dish and Glass was a twenty-four hour diner, it almost never got visitors in the wee hours of the morning. This was something that Stacy knew, having been stuck at that job for nearly three years. When she worked the night shift, she expected that she’d be alone with the chef, spending the whole time worrying about the sitter she’d hired to watch the kids. Not like she expected them to be awake from the hours of midnight to six in the morning, but it was better safe to be sorry, and the sitters she got usually gave her ugly looks for making them stay up so late for nothing.

Of course, after tonight, she would wish the only problem she had was nasty babysitters.

It was two o’clock. Stacy was behind the counter, taking stock of the coffee mugs. She didn’t really have a reason to, but nobody was around to talk to except Richard, the chef, and he was busy in the kitchen doing who knows what. She was bored. The bright lamps overhead shone a monotonous white light down onto the red and white booths and tables. The plate glass window showed the blue-black night outside. The city was dark.

The easy listening music that always played in the diner was broken by the pleasant ding! of the door opening. Stacy was pretty sure her shock was showing on her face. Luckily she was facing away from the entrance, or the customer might’ve noticed it. Then they might’ve told the manager, who might’ve fired her for unprofessional behavior, then she’d be alone and jobless with two kids who absolutely needed the best in life—she shook her head. The manager wasn’t even here, he’d gone out for who knows what; nobody ever told her. And looking shocked wasn’t worth reporting, let alone being fired over. She tried to ease the knot of anxiety as she turned around to face the customer.

“Hello, welcome to the Dish and—” Stacy froze. It couldn’t be no it couldn’t not here no no no—

“Lady, you alright? Didja have a stroke or something?”

Stacy shook herself internally, then plastered a smile on her face. “Of course I’m alright, sir! Welcome to the Dish and Glass, can I get you anything?”

The man shrugged. “Coffee. I can seat myself.”

“Sir, that’s not really our…policy…” Stacy trailed off. He’d already walked away and sat at one of the window booths. Honestly, there was no reason to stop him, what with him being the only one in the entire diner. It wasn’t like she’d lose track of him.

As she busied herself with the coffeepot, Stacy tried her best to stare at the customer without him noticing. The resemblance… it was more than uncanny. If it wasn’t for a few key differences, she could’ve sworn she was staring right at her ex-husband. Same brown hair, same build, same blue eyes—actually, eye. This stranger had only one. Where his right eye should have been, there was an eye-patch, one of those white square ones with four strings instead of two.

Something was…off about him, Stacy decided. She wasn’t sure what it was. He looked ordinary enough. He wore a black t-shirt, blue jeans with holes in the knees, and black tennis shoes. A green scarf was wrapped securely around his throat. He’d worn a ragged black backpack into the diner, but he’d taken it off and put it on the table, where he was now rummaging around inside. Still, despite how utterly normal all of this was…he gave Stacy an uneasy feeling. Maybe it was just the resemblance to HIM that was bothering her.

But she had a job to do. The coffee was ready, piping hot and poured in one of the mugs she’d been counting earlier. She set it on a plate and walked over to the booth where the customer was sitting. Upon catching sight of her, he immediately froze in place like someone had pressed the pause button. Stacy set the coffee on the table, trying to ignore his stare, and asked, “Would you like any cream? Or sugar?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we have those available—”

“I don’t need̴. ANYthing.”

Stacy flinched at his sharp tone. “Alright, sir. If you do, just call for me.” She forced herself to calmly turn around and walk at a normal pace back to her spot behind the counter. She could still feel the man staring at her. Had he blinked at all during that entire exchange?

She started fiddling with the cash register. It wasn’t her job to count the change, it was the manager’s. But she pretended to be busy. There was no doubt about it, this guy was giving off a vibe that she wasn’t fond of. She could almost feel it, like static electricity. Or maybe that was just the electric humming from the overhead lights. It was usually there, but Stacy noticed it kicked up. Maybe something was wrong with the wiring? If it broke, would they take the replacement costs from her paycheck?

He was still watching her. She glanced over and saw him sitting unnaturally still, eyes on her. Nope, there was no blinking there at all. Seriously unnerved, Stacy closed up the cash register, double checked that the drawer was secure, then swung open the kitchen door and hurriedly walked through. Richard, the chef, looked up when she entered. He was on his phone. “What’s up? ‘S there a customer?”

“I mean, yeah…he just wanted coffee, though. Now he’s just…sitting there…” Stacy shuddered. “He creeps me out.”

“Really?” Richard strolled over and looked through the tiny round window in the kitchen door. Stacy pushed her head next to his. The man was now rummaging in his backpack again. He pulled something out. “Please tell me that’s not a gun…” Stacy muttered.

“Nah.” Richard squinted. “Looks like a tennis ball or something. Green, round…it’s kinda glowy. Maybe it’s, like, a novelty bouncy ball?”

“He doesn’t seem the type…” Stacy muttered.

“People can be wrong, Stace. Maybe you’re just expecting a creep to walk in at two in the morning, so your brain is tricking you.”

“Maybe…” She was pretty sure her instincts were correct here. The man had stared at her for way too long to be innocent.

“What’s goin’ on here?”

Richard and Stacy jumped, then simultaneously turned around to see Rosa, the manager. She’d just entered through the back door. Now she was staring at her two employees with a combined expression of annoyance and curiosity.

“There’s a, uh, customer here,” Stacy explained. “I was getting a weird feeling from him. Rich says it’s nothing.”

“Let me see.” Rosa pushed her way past them to peer through the porthole. She frowned. “He seems normal enough. That eye-patch is a bit suspicious, but we shouldn’t judge. He order anything?”

“Just coffee.”

“Well, we’ll keep an eye on him. In the mean time Stacy, d’you mind taking out the garbage in the kitchen? It’s overflowing.”

“I, uh, yeah, sure.” Stacy awkwardly backed away from the door, heading out. Picking up the garbage on the way, she couldn’t help but think that it was nowhere near overflowing. But Rosa probably had good reason. She just had to…had to remember that.

She threw the bag from the can into the dumpster in the alley, the dim light from a flickering bulb over the diner’s back door barely allowing her to see. For a split second, she allowed herself to slump. This job…she needed it, but god did it suck. Creepy guy comes in the diner? Let’s keep an eye on him, forget that he makes you uncomfortable. By the way, you still have to serve him.

A small sound came from the ground near her feet. An animal sound…? Stacy looked down and saw a cat curling around her ankles. Mostly black, with a few white spots, including four arranged in an almost perfect diamond on its forehead. It wasn’t a small cat, actually it was fairly big height- and length-wise, but it was so thin. Stacy felt a pang of sympathy for it. “Hey little guy,” she cooed.

The cat gazed up at her with big green eyes. It meowed again. Stacy bent over to pet it, and it leaned against her and purred. A faint smile curled around her lips. Animals weren’t allowed in the diner, nor in the apartment building where she lived with her kids. She missed them. “I wish you could come with me,” she sighed. But already she was worried about Rosa noticing she was taking too long. If she came back into the diner with a cat when that was explicitly against the rules, she’d get another warning. And too many warnings meant losing her job.

Oh well. Sadly, she turned around and looked at the cat again..only for it to turn into a streak of dark fur and zoom past her into the diner. “What the hell!” she cried, darting inside.

“What? What happened?” Rosa asked. She and Richard were cleaning the kitchen counters, probably under the assumption that nobody else was coming.

“There was a stray cat, it-it ran inside,” Stacy explained.

“Oh shit!” Rosa’s eyes widened. “We can’t have dirty strays in here. Richard and I will look for it. You go back out there and attend the customer.”

Stacy almost asked to switch places with one of them, but she didn’t want to push her luck with letting the cat inside. She swallowed her words and pushed through the kitchen door back into the main body of the diner.

“—to do next. I’m thinking we get you to safety. I know a place.”

She froze. In a split second, she took in two things and made two conclusions: 1) the diner was still empty except for that one guy, 2) that one guy was talking to somebody, 3) if there was no one else in the diner then the guy was talking to himself, 4) if the guy was talking to himself then he was crazy and possibly dangerous, though that wasn’t a guarantee, but with the feeling she got from him it probably was. Instinctively, Stacy ducked down so that she was hidden behind the counter. She immediately felt stupid.

“Don’t l͠o͝o̵k̶ at me that way, I can protect it!”

She immediately stopped feeling stupid. That VOICE. That wasn’t…there was something…

Stacy’s attention was caught by the kitchen door easing its way open. The black cat poked its head through. It looked at her and narrowed its eyes in an…almost human way. Then it slipped through the door and headed around the counter and out into the dining area.

The man continued. “You don’t NEED that toxic shit, do ya? Cause I don’t want to turn right back around and scoop up a bucketful. That a no? Alright, we should probably—” Suddenly, he fell silent.

Time seemed frozen. The electric humming in the lights was definitely getting louder. It grew in intensity. Stacy shrank back.

A series of events happened in quick succession. Richard and Rosa burst through the kitchen door, cried out “Where’d the cat—?!” “Who the hell is—?” The overhead lights burst with an electric fritz and glass sprayed everywhere. It was dark for less than a second, then a flash of violet light lit everything up in startling intensity. The light was accompanied by a shock wave, and somehow Stacy was thrown from her hiding spot. She hit her head hard against the edge of a shelf on the other wall, and everything went black.

When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was the sticky, throbbing pain coming from her forehead. She almost groaned, but then she heard the laughing and thought better of it. Her head and limbs were twisted at awkward angles, but she was filled with a weakness and simply couldn’t move them. She opened her eyes. The diner was dark, except for a pulsing green light and a steady purple glow. She couldn’t see much from her spot on the floor, but the kitchen door was ajar and an arm was sticking out. It was surrounded by a puddle of dark liquid.

“ I̴ş ̛̕ţ̨h̸̕a̢҉t͝͡ ̨͞al͏͝l̵̢ ͠҉y͢o̶̶͠u̧͢͠ ҉g̡͠oţ̷͟,̢ ̧̕k̴̨i͡t҉t͞y̛͞ ̶c̨̕a̢̨t?̴”

It sounded like the words were being spoken through a buffering voice call made using a broken app. But the voice itself—the mocking, arrogant voice—was familiar. Stacy finally found the energy to push herself into a kneeling position. Her head was filled with a thick syrup, but the few thoughts that penetrated that syrup were those of curiosity. She crawled over to the counter and peeked over the top.

Someone was standing on one of the tables. Dully, Stacy recognized the scarf a moment before she saw his face. It was the man from before, but… this was impossible. The air around him was fizzing and breaking with distortion, creating shadowy duplicates and an almost glitchy effect. It seemed like the green light was coming from him. He was looking down at the source of the purple light. Another man. He had his back turned to Stacy, so she couldn’t see much… was he wearing a cape? The purple glow was coming from his hands. Stacy thought he must’ve been holding a flashlight or something, but there was no sign of anything like that.

“I have plenty more tricks up my sleeve,” spat another voice. Similar to the glitching man’s but not quite the same. It must’ve been the other one.

“W̛e̕l̸l, ̴I'̴m ͝sur͢e͝ ͞you͠ d̶o͠,” said the one on the table. The distortion increased for a moment as his head cracked to the side, then glitched back into place. He pointed something toward the caped man, and Stacy held back a gasp. Where did he get a knife?! “W̨hy ͠d͟on̶'҉t ͝yo͏u u͢s͏e th̴e͟m? ̕I͞'m sur͝e̵ yo̕u’re j͞u̷s҉t̸ itchin̢g ͏to.̨” A twisted grin. “G͡o ahȩa̶ḑ.͡ I͝ wa҉̧n̵͟͝na͠͠ s҉̶̥̖e̛̦̳̯e̘̹͍̤̠̞̕͞.”

“I—” Stacy could hear the hesitation in the other man’s voice. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to, more like he did want to but knew he shouldn’t. “N-no-not yet. You’re gonna tell me where you hid it. Do you have it? You’re trying to taunt me into blasting it, huh?!”

“Oh̢ ҉ye̵s,͡ th̴at makes p̶̴̡e̢͟r̷̵f͞e̛ct ҉͡ se̸ns͞e̛.” The words were harsh, biting. “C͝o͠ngratul̷at̡i̧ons̛, yo̵u̶'͡ve҉ ̵f̡i͟g̨ure͟d out ̡m̡y p̨lo͞t͡.҉ P͠retend͟ to ̨get̴ ͝t͞ḩem away, only t̶o͝ t͠r̨i҉ck̛ ̸you ͟i̴nt̸o k̶įl̨ling͡ t̷hem̡ ҉yours͞elf. ̵Al͝l ͝t͏h̨is̵ ̡t͞ime͡,̢ ̷I've̢ ̷be̕en̡ a ̢ca͞rto͠on ͢vi͝llai̷n w̧it̵h ̢a͢n ̨el̷ab̢o͞ra̡te ҉s̛che̕m̕e̛.͞ O͡h wai͠t̢,̛ tha͞t’s ҉yo͝u ͟a͏nd̕ y̕ou̕r li̧tt̨l͝e g͡ro҉u҉p͡ of̷ fr̛i͞end̸s.”

A hiss. An honest to god hiss, like a threatened cat. “Oh, we’re the bad guys here, aren’t we?”

“Hm̸m,̸ ͝I do̧n't̴ know. ͡Havę you͏ noti̡ce҉d̨ th͠ȩ ̸w̶a̵l̕ķing̨, talk̷ing͠ evi͠l d͏octǫr̴ ͡tr͝o͠p͝e ҉y̕ou̷ ̵h͢a͏ņg ̡o͠u͏t wi͠t̸h?”

“And how are you any better?”

“I͢͏͖̖͕̯̩̙ ̴̴̨̢̛̝̰̼̥̜ a͡t̸ l̷eas̨t k̨̛͢n͞o̢w͏̧ t̷ha͞t I'̷m fucked̷ ̕i͟n̕ th̢e ͠he͟a̴d.”

The caped man let out a horrible screech. A dark violet energy beam blasted from his hands toward the one on the table. The air crackled, and he was gone. Stacy thought for a second that he was gone, only for him to materialize on a different table on the other side of the diner. He laughed, the same one from before. “W̨ow̴,͞ ̶that̴ ̢di̴d n̕o͠҉t̛h̨̛in̴̨̧g͞!͠”

The caped man turned towards him, and Stacy could just make out his face. Or rather, the mask hiding his face. It was shaped like a cat, and colored black. Four shapes, two red and two white, were in the middle of the mask’s forehead. Creeping out from underneath the mask were lines on the man’s cheeks—scars, Stacy realized. What the hell…?

Another blast of purple energy. Once again, the glitcher dissolved and reappeared on another table. And again, the same result. And again. This time, the man popped into existence standing on the counter, inches away from the spot where Stacy was watching. She exhaled sharply. The man turned his head slightly and looked down. His one visible eye had changed color; its sclera was black and the iris was acid, electric green. Stacy couldn’t help but stare at it. The distortion, the energy blasts, the creepy voice…that kind of shit was only supposed to be in movies and YouTube videos. Yet here it was, impossibly, in real life.

The man’s eye widened slightly, then he looked back to the masked man. “Y̨o͠u g҉on͟na do ̴th̛is̛ ҉forev̧e̡r̴,̡ ̕mag̷ic bo͟y?̷” he jeered. ”P͢lay ͝c̛at an̶d ̧mo͝use̸?”

“Shut up!” Another blast, and Stacy flinched as it passed so close to her. Just as before, the man glitched away. But now he appeared behind the masked man. Before he could react, the glitcher plunged the knife into his backside, quickly withdrawing it. The masked man roared and let out a spray of purple liquid that burned the walls of the diner like acid. It had no effect, as the other one disappeared once more.

“H̢e̛y͏ lady,” a voice whispered in Stacy’s ear. She let out a small squeak, then spun around. The man was crouching right next to her. His eye had gone back to normal, and the distortion seemed to have lessened somehow. “ Y͡ou need to get the f̴u̴ck̡ out of here.”

“Who—how—what—” Stacy stuttered.

“That’s not important. Come on.”

“Wh-wh-what about Rich and Rosa?” she asked.

“Dead. Ripped apart by the shockforce spell.” Then, as an afterthought, “Sorry.”

“I…” Stacy trailed off. They couldn’t be…this couldn’t be real. It was probably just a bad dream. A very realistic bad dream…

“Oh for—there’s no time for shock!” He grabbed her arm. Before she could protest or pull away, he was running around the counter and toward the exit, dragging her behind him. She cried out.

The masked man’s head whipped toward them. “Hey! You aren’t leaving yet!” Stacy looked toward him, only to see a long whip of violet fire snapping toward her. A lashing agony spread through her arm. She screamed and fell. The glitcher instinctively dissolved to avoid the fire, but he reappeared in the same spot as he realized he’d let go of her. He stopped in his tracks and made to grab her again. A shield of purple fire appeared between him and her.

“Alright, fine, if you’re gonna make me do this.” The masked man rolled his eyes. “Tell me where the eye is, and the waitress can live to tell the police about this disaster. Not that they’ll believe her.”

Stacy’s heart stopped. She looked up at the glitcher with pleading eyes. He stared back at her, considering. “W͞hat'͡s yo̸ur g͞ame҉,M͡arv͟in͏?̛” he asked. “If ̸I’m ͠t̢he͠ ͠b̷ad ̸g͡uy,͏ ̶w̢h̷y ͟d̵o͏ ҉y̢o̵u th̶in͢k̨ I’d care?̶”

“Fair point.” The masked man—Marvin—shrugged. “Or, it would be if you hadn’t just fucking stabbed me to get her out. If I believe Jackie, you like to play the long game usually.”

The glitcher nodded, slightly. “A̡lri̕ght̵,̷ I̶'l͡l̸ g͝iv̛e̡ you̧ ͠a ch̷an͝c͠e̢.” He turned to Marvin. “Y͢ou can ha͏v͟e͏ them.̧..if y̕o͝u͝ ͡can̡ ͡ca̢tch t͟h̸em͢!” He threw something. A round, green object sailed through the air, over the counter and through the ajar kitchen door. Marvin cried out, then dashed to follow it. With the loss of his focus, the purple fire wall disappeared. “Come on!” the glitcher hissed to Stacy, then turned and bolted out the door. She scrambled to her feet and ran after him.

The city was still dark. Stacy glanced at her watch: 2:18 a.m. Only a little over ten minutes ago, she’d been idly sorting through the coffee cups, and now she was running from an insane fire-thrower wearing a cat mask, following a guy who could seemingly break the world at will. Her arm was burning. Rosa and Richard were dead. Her world was crashing around her.

She looked up to see the glitcher staring at her. The distortions had entirely disappeared. “Yeah?” he sounded impatient.

“Yeah—yeah what?” she stammered.

“He hit you, didn’t he? With the fire?”

“Um…” Stacy touched her arm. A bit of her uniform was burned away, and the wound was letting out a bit of smoke. “…yeah.”

“Well that sucks,” he said casually. “That’s a black magic burn. It’ll keep burning until either you eventually die somehow or a cure is administered. And that means I gotta take you to my place and fix it.” He sighed. “Okay, come on.” He turned on his heel.

“W-wait! I have questions!” Stacy hurried to catch up until she was matching his quick pace. “Who—what are you?”

“I see you corrected that one. Good.” He continued walking. Every so often they’d pass under a street light, and she’d see that she was on his blind side. Still, despite that, Stacy felt like he was staring at her. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? That’s impossible.”

“Is it? Is it really? Well, maybe it is and I’m just not telling you.” He giggled to himself.

Even though he’d just saved her life, that laugh was still really creepy. “And-and that other guy? Marvin?”

“Black magic magician that gives black cats the bad name they have. I stole something away from him and his friends, and they want it back.”

“What? Was it that green thing you threw?”

He grinned evilly. “No.” Still walking, he pulled at his scarf. For a moment, Stacy could see that underneath the scarf there were bloodied bandages wrapped around his neck. And then something glowing, green, and round shot out from where it had been hidden within the cloth of the scarf. It hovered in the air, easily keeping up with them. Stacy gasped. It was an eye. A green-scleraed, blue-irised eyeball with an optic nerve like a tail. The main body of the thing was about the size of a tennis ball. As she stared at it, its iris deformed slightly, curving upward. She got the impression that it was happy. “This little guy is Sam,” the man explained. “I broke into the guys’ main hideout and found them in a tank of green toxic fluid. They were curled up at the bottom and looked scared, so I broke the fucker and lettem out.”

“And…these guys…they want this Sam back?” Stacy hesitantly reached out toward the eyeball. It nudged her hand, then started nestling it like a pet would. It was actually kind of adorable. “Why?”

“Hell if I know. Some of them have major control freak problems, so maybe that’s it. But they sent Mr. Goodbye Kitty after me, so they’re serious about getting them back. The thing you saw me throw, that was a ‘copy,’ to distract him. He’ll grab it, take it back to their little lair, and then it’ll disappear. Thought it would buy me time to get you fixed.”

“Why didn’t you just-just teleport me?” Stacy asked.

“It’s not t̢ęl͟e̸port̷ing. It’s…well, you can call it glitching, that’s close enough. And it can’t affect most living things. Sam is somehow an exception.”

“It affects you.”

“Oh? Who told you I͡ w͏a̧s l̷̢͡į̷v̵i̴n̶g̸?” He smiled.

Stacy shuddered. She almost stopped in her tracks and ran the other way, but if he was right about the burn never healing, then she needed all the help she could get. “Okay,” she said quietly. They walked in silence for a moment through the empty city streets. But there was one more question bugging Stacy. “Wh-what-what’s your name?”

“Antisepticeye.”

“Oh.” Weird name…

“People call me Anti, if that’s too long for you. And you?”

“I’m Stacy. Stacy Bro—Davidson.”

He—Anti—faltered, turning to fully look at her for the first time. “Say that again.”

“Stacy Davidson,” she repeated, softer.

Anti stared at her for a moment longer, then turned away. “We’re almost there,” he said, and sped up.

Stacy sped up as well. Why had he been so interested in her name? Did he know something about her? Or about…? She shook her head. Don’t dwell on the past. Dwell on the present. However strange it may be.

And maybe the future too. She had the feeling it was about to get a whole lot stranger.

Part Twenty of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Chase and Marvin are having a fairly pleasant visit with Jack, but that's interrupted when Schneep tries to disrupt Anti's plans.]
.............................................................................................

“You look nervous.”

“I’m not.”

“I mean, it’s understandable if you are—”

“I’m not fucking nervous, Chase.”

The elevator doors opened, forcibly stopping the brief exchange. Chase stepped out onto the third floor, glancing back over his shoulder at Marvin. “Well, if you were, I was just gonna say it’s okay to be. Now c’mon.”

Marvin hesitated. Despite what his protests would indicate, he did look rather anxious. He kept twisting the edge of his shirt around. But he took a moment to steady himself and followed Chase out of the elevator, saying nothing.

“It’s just the same room,” Chase said, gesturing down the hospital hallway. “Let’s go.”

They walked in silence for a while, passing by closed doors, each with a room beyond. Chase kept looking back towards Marvin. This would probably be the first time he’d left his house in a couple weeks, something that Chase knew from experience wasn’t good for your health. Marvin looked fine, physically. His hair was combed and pulled back in a ponytail, his shirt and pants neat. But he just seemed…not as energetic. If that made sense. Hopefully, this would be good for him.

They soon reached the room they were looking for. Chase was about to knock on the door when Marvin suddenly asked, “Do you think he’ll be mad at me?”

Chase blinked. Then laughed, in an effort to lighten the mood. “Why would he be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I hardly ever went to visit him.” Marvin continued to twist the hem of his shirt. “A-and I haven’t seen him at all since he woke up.”

“Marv. Trust me. Jack wouldn’t be mad at you for something like that.” Chase instinctively went to pat him on the back, but Marvin leaned away, so he dropped it and settled for a reassuring smile. “He’s not that type of guy.”

“Would he be…disappointed?” Marvin asked tentatively.”I-I don’t want to make him feel bad, he probably has enough to deal with—”

“It’s going to be alright, Marvin. Jack knows you didn’t mean to hurt him by not visiting. And besides, you’re visiting now, aren’t you? So it all works out.” Chase waited for Marvin to say more, but he just nodded, breathing out slowly. “Alright, we’re gonna go in now, okay?” Marvin nodded again, and Chase knocked on the door before slowly opening it. “Hello? It’s me.”

Jack turned to look towards the door. The moment he saw Chase, he smiled, and reached to the side and adjusted the controls of the bed to a sitting position. “Hii Shhays.”

“Hey bro. Look, I brought a friend.” Chase stepped into the room, allowing Marvin to take his place in the doorway.

Marvin froze for a moment. He stared at Jack, taking in the bed, the wires, the oxygen tube. Then he waved. “Um…hi.”

“Mahfin!” Jack grinned even wider. “‘S good t’see yuh!” He waved Marvin over.

“Ha. Y-yeah, good to see you, too.” Marvin stepped inside. “Oh, uh, d’you want this open?”

“S’fffine.”

“Alright, then.” He closed the door.

“Hey, c’mon, Marv, sit down.” Chase walked over to the side of the bed, indicating one of the nearby chairs. “Get comfy in the plastic hospital chair.”

Marvin laughed, and followed Chase over to the bed. They both sat, and Jack leaned over to pick up his communication board from the nearby table. He pointed to the 'How are you?' box.

“Eh. We’re alright, I guess,” Chase said, glancing at Marvin.

“I…well, I’ve been…” Marvin stopped, the words getting caught in his throat. “It’s fine, though. Probably nothing compared to what you’re going through.”

Jack frowned. It was a small, awkward gesture, something his facial muscles were still having trouble with. He indicated the 'I don’t think so' box.

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Marvin asked, confused.

“It means he’s doubting you,” Chase explained. Jack nodded.

“Well, I mean…it’s fine,” Marvin said slowly. “Honestly, I’d rather talk about you. Like, how are you doing? What are you doing? It can’t be too fun being stuck in here.”

Jack still looked unsure, but he shook his head, and tapped a box labeled 'I agree.'

“You’ve got a TV in here now, though,” Chase said, pointing to the corner. A big box television sat on top of a wheeled cart. “It looks like the ones they used to bring into classrooms in elementary school, y’know?”

Marvin and Jack just stared at him. “I think that’s an American thing,” Marvin said. “Or at least, something that wasn’t common where we were from.”

“Ah. Well, they did it all the time. A couple classrooms had them bottled to the ceilings in the corner and you watched movies on it, but you were always too far away to see it properly.” Chase laughed a bit. “But still, there’s probably only so much TV you can take.”

Jack groaned, rolling his eyes. He emphatically tapped the 'I agree' box.

Marvin smiled a bit. “Well, don’t you have hospital stuff to do? Like, examinations and shit?”

Jack pointed to the 'Yes' box. “Therrs…th’rapy. Lotta it.”

“Yeah, like speech therapy, physical therapy, probably a million other kinds.” Chase nodded. “Oh, speaking of which, you sound much better! Good job, bro.”

“Thnkss.” Jack smiled a bit.

“Y’know, I did some, uh…I don’t know if it was physical therapy exactly, but I did some exercises as a kid,” Marvin recalled. “Because I was severely uncoordinated. Tripped over my own feet to the point Grandmam was worried about it.” He paused. “I don’t know what I mean by that. I guess I’m just saying I relate a bit. It’s probably not the same thing, though.”

“Nnoh, ‘sfine,” Jack assured him. “I geddid. Ah.” He made a face. “I. Get. It.”

“Good, then.” For a moment, there was just silence. It stretched long enough to get awkward, and just when Chase was about to change the subject, Marvin blurted out, “I’m sorry I never came to see you, Jack.”

Jack blinked. “Hm?”

“Well I did but—it wasn’t that often. A-and not since you woke up, and I’m really sorry about it, it’s just—I’ve been having…a…moment.” Marvin clenched his fists as he tried to find the words. Sign language wouldn’t work here; Jack couldn’t understand it. So he was stuck with verbal speech. Not always his strong suit. “You know, when you have…a moment? When it’s hard to do anything because you…don’t…really…feel like anything?” Chase nodded encouragingly, and Marvin took a deep breath. “It’s not because I didn’t want to come see you. I really did, I-I’m really happy you’re awake again! It’s just…my fault. I put it off for so long, and then I got nervous about it, like, that it would be weird to suddenly show up and start talking like nothing had happened—I-I do that a lot, y’know, that’s why I don’t really talk to anyone besides you guys—and it’s not you, it’s me, and I’m sorry.” He finished with a rush and then stopped, waiting, his posture stiff and tense.

Jack was quiet for a moment. Then, he leaned closer, reaching out and putting a hand on top of Marvin’s own. “Mahfin…Mmmahrf…Marrrfvin.” For a moment, he looked frustrated at his inability to pronounce his friend’s name properly, but then he took a deep breath, and moved on. “Mahrfin. ‘S not…yoh fahlt. Thin’s happen. ‘S alright. ‘M happy t’see yuh—yyou. Yohr herre now. An’ tha’s what’s…i-im….important.” And he smiled.

Marvin’s face swelled with a mix of emotions. Relief, hesitancy, joy. It brought tears to his eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Yeh. O’courrrse.”

“I…good. That’s…good.” Marvin wiped his eyes. “Y’know…if you’re having trouble, you could just call me Muffin or something, for the time being.”

Jack laughed. “Shurr, Maffin.”

The moment was interrupted by a faint buzzing sound. Chase jumped a bit, feeling something vibrate in his pocket. “Oh, uh, sorry guys.” He took out his phone, face turning red with embarrassment as the other two watched him. “I didn’t think anyone would be calling me.” He glanced at the screen. “Huh. I don’t recognize the number.”

“It’s probably spam,” Marvin dismissed.

“Maybe. Or it could be important. Like, the kids are in school now, what if their teacher’s calling?” Chase hesitated. “I’ll just—just see if it is spam, really quick.” He tapped the Accept button and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello? Who’s this?”
.............................................................................................

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t BREATHE. Something was squeezing his chest, his lungs—something was inside him, it was—no, no it wasn’t. This was panic. That had to be the explanation. He had to calm down, and—and do…something.

Schneep had woken up a few minutes ago. It took him a while to remember what happened before that. How someone had been in his room. No…not just someone. He knew—it was HIM, it was—there was no escape, there had never been any escape—

Okay. Calm down. Breathe. Focus on the facts. He was lying on the floor. In a strange room that he didn’t recognize. Near the wall. And he wasn’t alone. But he couldn’t focus on that fact now, it just made it hard to breathe again, thinking about being watched, being stared at, being—stop. Calm. Breathe.

Maybe if he looked around, it would help. But there wasn’t much to see in the room. The walls were dark gray, the floor was rough white carpet. There was a circular black rug in the middle. And a window with blinds. Besides those features, the only thing of note in the room was…a desk. And its chair, with someone sitting in it. But he didn’t want to look towards that. What about…the window? Was there anything outside?

He hesitated, and briefly glanced back towards the desk. It looked like the chair’s occupant was busy, attention fully focused on the computer monitors on the desk’s surface. But he knew he was still being watched. Perhaps…if he moved slowly, then it wouldn’t be too strange? It would be natural?

Deciding that was worth a shot, Schneep cautiously sat up. His head was still a bit dizzy, and heavy, too. He grimaced, then glanced out the window. The glass was a bit dirty, and looked unusually…thick, if that made sense. Outside, he could see a street corner, and houses. This room was in a house like that, then? And it was at an intersection, with a pair of street signs marking the roads that crossed here. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make out the street names this far away without his glasses. But one of them had some graffiti on it, a spray-painted square with a diamond inside it, and a black dot inside that. It might’ve been more elaborate than that, but again, he couldn’t quite make out the details.

“I see you.”

Schneep yelped, pressing against the wall as he turned to look towards the desk. Anti. He’d turned around in his desk chair and was staring at him now. Staring with those mismatched eyes that haunted his nightmares.

“Enjoying the view?” Anti nodded towards the window. “Sorry, not much to see. Nothing particularly helpful. Especially since you can’t read the street signs from this distance without your glasses.”

He knew what he was thinking?! Was he in his head again?! Schneep squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and opened them again. No, that wasn’t true. Anti was human, he’d never read his mind, humans couldn’t do that.

“What? Do you think you’re safe up here?” Anti tapped the side of his head and grinned. “Don’t be so sure. You’re so easy to—”

“Shut up, you are lying,” Schneep interrupted. “You—you cannot do that anymore. I know it’s a trick.”

“You don’t know anything,” Anti said, still grinning. “Because I’ve been watching you. I know you’ve heard me. And I know you’ve told others about me. Don’t you remember what I said about that? The more people know about me, the stronger I become.”

“That is more lies,” Schneep insisted, pressing his back to the wall.

“I’ve never lied to you. And I’m not about to start now. I’ve been watching you. I know you’ve seen my shadow in the corners, and my eyes in the ceilings.”

“How do you know about that?!” Schneep shrieked.

“Because I sent them, of course. To keep an eye on you, make sure you didn’t break any rules.” Anti sighed dramatically and shook his head. “I hoped it wouldn’t be needed, but I thought, better safe than sorry. And it turns out I was right.”

Schneep pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block out Anti’s words. They had to be lies. He knew that Anti wasn’t some supernatural creature, he was just a man. Anti had to be guessing about the things he saw. Though…how did he guess about the eyes in the ceilings? Schneep couldn’t remember telling him about them, and that had to be a fairly specific hallucination. Maybe he really…? No, there had to be another explanation.

Anti laughed, and Schneep flinched at the sound. His eyes darted around the room once more. There was a door, but it was on the other side of the room, and he was willing to bet it was locked. Same with the window. He could try to break the window, but there was nothing to break it with. Unless he wanted to try and grab one of the computer monitors and throw it through the glass, but he knew he’d be overpowered if he tried.

“That’s right, you’ve got no way out,” Anti said, leaning back. “You’re lucky I haven’t tied you to a chair or anything. The only reason I haven’t done that is because you know it’s hopeless, anyway. Unlike certain others…wearing red jackets.”

Schneep felt a chill pass over him. Jackie. Of course. Anti still had him captive. “I-it’s different, now,” Schneep protested weakly. “They know about you, a-and me, and that we are not the same. They will be trying to rescue me this time.”

“Probably,” Anti admitted. He grabbed something off the desk and stood up, approaching. Schneep’s eyes widened, and he pressed further into the wall, pulling his legs and arms close. “That is, they’ll be trying a search and rescue as long as they think I’m involved.” Anti stopped, standing over Schneep, and leaned down. “So here’s what’s going to happen.” He showed him the thing he’d grabbed from the desk: a phone. “You’re going to call the lovely Dr. Laurens and tell her you left on your own.”

“What…wh-why would I do that?” Schneep stammered.

“Because you got scared. Because you didn’t feel safe in that hospital. Because you told her you saw Anti in the hospital rec room, and you think that he’s real, and that he can come after you.” Anti smiled. “It’s built on truth, isn’t it? Because you told her you saw me, didn’t you?”

Schneep stared at him in disbelief. He had told Laurens about seeing Anti in the rec room. At the time, he thought it was just him seeing things, but…had it been real? The whole time? And how did Anti know he’d told Laurens about that?

"Because he hears your thoughts. He can twist them to control you."

No! No, that wasn’t real. But…the idea still lingered.

“What are you waiting for?” Anti held out the phone, staring at him. Staring, staring, staring. Always staring.

Schneep swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “..okay. I will call her.”

Anti didn’t say anything as he took the phone, still watching him as he dialed the phone number. Schneep tried not to think about it too much as he held the phone to his ear and listened to the call connect.

The other end rang for a long time, and Schneep swiftly grew afraid that nobody would pick up. But just when he thought it would hang up, the ringing stopped. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“Um. Hello.” Schneep reminded himself to breathe. “It’s me, it is—well, you can probably tell by the voice.” The voice that was shaking quite a bit.

“What the f—Schneep?!” The voice on the other end shouted in disbelief. “Why are you calling me?! No, wait, HOW are you calling me? I thought you weren’t allowed to have a phone there.”

“No, I—there is—something has happened,” Schneep said carefully. “I-I am not at Silver Hills anymore.”

“Well then where the hell are you?!”

“I am…I am somewhere…else,” Schneep said slowly.

“Yeah, where?”

Anti narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Get to the point,” he hissed.

Schneep froze for a moment. He needed to speak freely. “It’s because of—of him,” he said carefully. “You know who I mean, yes?”

“You mean…Anti?” The other end went silent for a minute. “Schneep where are you? Can you tell me, give me a clue or something? I-I’ll call the police, but if you could tell me anything—”

Anti frowned. “Put it on speaker,” he said.

Schneep’s heart sank. Impossible. Anti would immediately know that he hadn’t called the right person. He had to do something drastic. “Er ist es, er hat mich mitgenommen,” he said, speaking quickly. “Ich weiß nicht wo ich bin.” Anti’s eyes widened, and he lunged forward. Schneep cried out, and rolled to the side, just avoiding him. “Ich weiß nicht wo ich bin! Ein Haus an einer Straßenecke—Ich kenne die Straßennamen nicht! Das Schild hat Graffiti, es ist ein Kreis in einem Diamanten in einem Quadrat—”

“You little—!” Anti grabbed Schneep’s wrist and twisted the phone out of his hand.

“Bitte komm—!” Schneep didn’t manage to get the rest of the sentence out before—

Smack!

He fell to the side, half of his face suddenly alight in pain. For a moment, he was too dazed to respond properly. Then Anti grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him upward. He instantly started struggling.

“You worthless little fucker,” Anti hissed, grabbing a handful of Schneep’s hair and pulling his head backwards. “Can’t believe you did that. Fuck. You deserved that. Your friend’s gonna have worse for that stunt you just pulled.”

“N-no!” Schneep gasped. “Leave him alone!”

“No, you know the rules. You know how this works.” Anti glared at him. “You’ve just gotten cocky. So you need a reminder.”

Schneep felt a tear trickle from his eye. He hoped that call was worth it.
.............................................................................................

“Schneep?! Henrik?! Are you there?!” Chase shouted into the phone, but got no response. There’d been a rustling sound, like a struggle, then Schneep had shouted, and then there was—there was another sound, a sound he’d most often heard when his kids would fight each other, and he had to scold them. That sound was a lot more sinister in this context. Especially considering the call had apparently dropped after it. “Fuck!”

“What happened?!” Marvin asked, shaken by the half of the conversation he’d heard. “Was that really—?”

“H-hang on, I’m gonna call his doctor first,” Chase said. He hurried to dial the number for Dr. Laurens, misdialing at first because of his rush and entering it a second time.

The call was picked up surprisingly quickly. “Chase? Is that you?” Laurens’s voice came through loud and clear.

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen doc, is…is Schneep okay?” Chase didn’t know how else to ask.

“Is he—oh, Chase,” Laurens said softly. “I was just about to call you. We…we don’t know where he is.”

“You…don’t know where he is?” Chase repeated, feeling the bottom of his stomach dropping out. He heard Marvin gasp, and saw him squeeze Jack’s hand, who was now sitting up as straight as he could. “What do you mean?”

“He never showed up to dinner. When Oliver went to check on his room, he wasn’t there. We’ve been searching the building and the grounds, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I thought—since you’re his friend, a-and his emergency contact—wait a minute.” Laurens stopped, realizing something. “Why are you asking?”

“Because he just called me,” Chase explained. “From some number I didn’t recognize. He said that—he said that Anti took him.”

“Shit,” Laurens cursed. “Chase, I need you to hang up right now and call the police. We’ll keep searching the nearby area, just in case. I-I’ll call you if we find him.”

“Y-yeah. Okay. And I’ll call you again after I talk to the cops.”

“Great. Go do that.”

“I’m doing it. Talk to you later.” Chase hung up.

“So he just disappeared?!” Marvin whispered harshly. “Just—just like that night.” He glanced over at Jack.

“Wh’s happennin’?” Jack asked, his features drawn.

“You guys heard that call, right? Henrik called me, h-he was speaking…haltingly, I think, with a lot of pauses, I think that’s the word.” Chase squeezed his phone case. “Then he freaked out and started shouting in German—I bet because Anti can’t speak it.”

“What did he say?!” Marvin demanded.

“I don’t know all of it, it’s been a while since I—give me a second.” Chase opened up a translation app on his phone and quickly typed in a few words, trying his best to match the spelling of the things he thought Schneep had said. He had to fill in the gaps. “Okay. He said that Anti took him, and that he didn’t know where it was, but it was a house on a street corner. He couldn’t see the street names, but mentioned some sort of like…graffiti? On the sign? A circle in a diamond in a square.”

Jack’s head shot upward, and he cried out.

“What?! What is it?!” Marvin leaned forward, checking all the wires and monitors.

“Nn—noh that!” Jack clumsily pushed him back. “That sss…ssymmbel. Know it.”

“Wh—you recognize the symbol?!” Chase repeated in disbelief. “Square-diamond-circle?!”

Jack nodded. “H-he…fffakes. Th’ fakes, th’ one…prtendinn tuh be yuh two. I…rmemmber now.”

“Huh?” Marvin asked, utterly confused.

“Right, you don’t know,” Chase realized. “Jack, he—he’s said some stuff about fake versions of us visiting him. Anti, in disguise. I-I know, I ran into him pretending to be you one time, and I heard about an imposter me from Dr. Emerson another time. Apparently Anti talked to him, said some freaky stuff.” He gasped. “You mean—he told you about this symbol?”

“Symmbl. Symbel to…to haf others recogniss him.” Jack pressed his hands to his forehead and leaned forward. “Put outssside…places he…h-has? I don’…don’ rmemrrr.” He fell silent, squeezing his eyes shut. “On a sighhn…steet signnn…ffahk. Fahk!”

“I’m gonna call the police,” Chase said, already dialing 999. “I’m gonna tell them everything, a-and meanwhile, try to remember anything else.”

Jack nodded, eyes still shut. Marvin squeezed his shoulder, an anchor to the physical world. He could hear Chase’s voice relaying what happened over the phone, but the words were indistinct as he tried to concentrate on his memory. Everything was all mixed up and blurred. None of it made sense most of the time. He remembered hearing voices, but he wasn’t sure when it was Chase, when it was this Anti, or when it was just a dream. But he’d definitely heard that description of a symbol before. When…when had he…when…when……?
.............................................................................................

……

…

“It’s a calling card. Or a warning, if you want to think of it that way…simplified version of my…”

…

The man had no eyes. Or maybe he was just missing one eye. A blank, dark spot in the middle of a white face. He looked like a friend, but that dark spot was wrong. It told him it was a lie.

“Most people don’t know what it means exactly, only that it’s trouble. The area…claimed.”

And the voice was wrong. It…it sounded a bit like his own, actually? Was this…him?

Was that why he couldn’t move? Why he couldn’t look away?

“…outside safe houses, where I store my…and other equipment. They’re also secondary bases. Just in case…never know in this line of work. I don’t want…caught. Living…prison…just be the worst. You have no control.”

The man was smiling. His teeth stretched…his skin was melting. He—he couldn’t understand. What was happening? Who…was this man…? Was he him? Who are you? Who am I? Are we the same? I can’t understand. Something…something is broken up here. My thoughts…they’re scattering. Like throwing paper in a bowl of water, watching it soak it up, then stirring violently. Everything came apart.

“I’m never going to let anyone control me. No. I am in control. Everyone else…my little puppets. I like watching the shows.”

The white ceiling and walls were burning his eyes. It was curving, like a bubble. They were in a bubble. He was floating. He couldn’t feel anything.

“…times I worry about you telling people. But then I—” Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. “I remember you’re a veggie. People rarely wake…after something so severe. So…doesn’t matter. Maybe you can hear me. Maybe you can’t. Doesn’t…”

Green line. Up and down. Up and down. Crossing the man’s face. Cutting him in half.

“Why am I even doing this?”

Green light. Everything is green.

“I don’t even know. It’s a waste of time, a waste of resources, and a risk. Maybe…need it? I’ve never talked so freely. Not even to Jamie. He…a kid, you know. Always will be.”

Light is gone. Everything is black.

“…it doesn’t really matter what I say. I can tell you about the marks outside the houses. Ha. Hell, I can even tell you where they are. Like, for example, on the corner of—”
.............................................................................................

Jack’s eyes flew open. “Ah!”

“Wh—?!” Marvin jumped a bit. “Jack?”

“Th’ steet! Strreet! Is—is—” Now the problem was just getting his mouth to form the sounds properly. “Ay…airrr…loom.”

Marvin blinked. “Air loom?”

“Hhay. Hhhhair loom.”

“Oh, heirloom? I don’t know that street, uh…” Marvin turned to look at Chase. “Did you catch that?”

Chase nodded in response, still on the phone, then returned to his conversation with the emergency line. “Um—maybe try on one of the corners of Heirloom Drive? My friend thinks that might be it.” A brief pause. “Uh, I don’t know.” And he looked over at Jack, pulling the phone away a bit. “Hey bro, do you…remember the other street? It’s at an intersection, right?”

Jack closed his eyes again. But this time, the memory wouldn’t even come to him. “No.”

“That’s fine.” Chase returned to the phone. “My friend doesn’t know, but on the phone call he said—my other friend—said that there was some sort of graffiti on the sign, that was a uhh square around a diamond around a circle. That probably helps right?” He paused. “No, I don’t think he’d see them. He’s near-sighted, and I don’t think he has his glasses. That probably means that the graffiti description is pretty vague, but it’s an idea.” Another pause. “Yeah, that’s it. Oh, wait, uh…I think Detective Nix was involved in this case? Can you tell him?” And another. “Yeah, his name’s Henrik.” And one last, long pause. “Alright, thank you ma’am. I’ll wait.” And he hung up, letting out a long exhale.

“It—it’s going to be fine, right?” Marvin asked anxiously. “They’ll find him?”

“It might take a while, but I think so,” Chase replied. “God…Hey, uh, Jack? You’re sure about this?”

Jack thought about it, then nodded slowly, head bobbing. That memory was a bit weird, but Dr. Emerson told him it was common to have dream-like memories, with everything that had happened to him. He was confident that the conversation was real. He couldn’t forget the times Anti came to visit, just because of how deeply unnerving his words always were.

“Alright. Well, they’re going to call me to update me on what happens,” Chase said. “Uh…not sure how long this’ll take. Visiting hours might end before they sort everything out.”

“Mm.” Jack shrugged. He picked up the communication board again—he’d just done a lot of talking, and needed a moment—and pointed to the 'I’m okay' box.

“You sure?”

'Yes' box.

“Well we’re not leaving until they kick us out,” Marvin asserted, folding his arms. “If they call us back, you need to hear it. You just helped out a fuckton.”

Jack smiled, a bit lopsidedly. 'Thank you' box.

Chase laughed, but it quickly faded. He looked down at the phone in his hand, already anticipating the call. “I guess…we just wait now.”
.............................................................................................

There were footsteps passing by outside the room. At first, Jameson had tensed, waiting for the door to open and Anti to walk inside. But that didn’t happen. They just kept passing back and forth. 'You hear those, right?' JJ asked.

Jackie didn’t respond, so JJ looked back over at him. He was lying on the bottom bed of the bunk and staring up, eyes glazed. Something he’d been doing quite a lot, JJ noticed. When he asked about it, Jackie always said he was daydreaming, which would be fine normally, but JJ was pretty sure that he was doing it too much. Well, he couldn’t blame him. But still, it would be nice if Jackie would look at him when he was signing.

Jameson walked over and, after a moment’s hesitation, shook Jackie’s shoulder. He blinked, made an odd gesture like he was asking someone to wait, then looked at JJ. “What?”

'Have you been hearing the footsteps outside?' JJ asked.

“Huh? Oh, uh, sorry. No. I wasn’t really paying attention,” Jackie admitted. “What do they sound like?”

'Like someone’s running up and down a hallway outside,' JJ described.

“Really? Well…I mean, I can’t really think of anyone but Anti who’d be doing that.” Jackie’s face scrunched up in thought. “Maybe he’s…doing something? I dunno. Running, though…it must be important.”

Jameson frowned. That was a good point, why would Anti be running about? 'I’m going to try to look outside,' he said, walking over to the door.

“Look outside?” Jackie sat up, turning so he was on the edge of the bed. “You mean, through the gap?”

JJ nodded. He got down on his hands and knees and pressed his head to the floor, peering through the gap under the door. Nothing much to see. He got to his knees and was about to stand up…when he heard the footsteps again. Wanting to see what happened as they passed by the door, he quickly peered through the gap between the door and the doorframe. The steps were approaching—

Then the door slammed open, directly into Jameson’s face. He cried out as he fell, clasping his hands to his face.

“Oh my god, Jamie?! I’m so sorry!” Anti covered his mouth, staring down at him in shock. “It was an accident, I didn’t expect you to—are you okay?!”

Jameson didn’t answer. His face was in pain, and his nose in particular was throbbing. He pulled one hand away and saw it covered in blood, felt it trickling from his nostrils and soaking into his mustache.

“Shit. Fuck! I-it’ll be fine, I can—i-is it broken?” Anti bent over, grabbing Jameson’s head and trying to inspect the damage. But Jameson pulled away, waving at him to get back. “Hey, I just—okay, fine. This isn’t the time. We can look at it later.” Anti took his phone out of his pocket and checked the clock. “We need to go.”

Go? Did he say go? As in, they were leaving? Jameson stood up, keeping one hand on his face, trying and failing to stop the bleeding from getting everywhere. Why did they have to leave? More importantly, why was Anti trying to move the two of them? Unless…something happened that meant he had to move them. Like…the police coming. At that thought, Jameson started backing away.

“Jamie, this isn’t a joke, we need to leave NOW.” Anti insisted.

Jameson shook his head. He glanced over his shoulder at Jackie. Judging by the wide-eyed expression on his face, he’d come to the same conclusion as him. It was strange to see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. And that thought made Jameson’s heart hurt.

“Are you going to—?! Fuck, I don’t have time for this.” Anti rubbed his eyes, then adjusted the strap of the bag hanging off his shoulder. He stared at Jameson for a moment. Then followed his line of sight over to Jackie. For a moment, he hesitated, thinking about something. And then he made a decision. “Okay, fine.” Anti pushed past Jameson, reaching into his bag as he did so. He grabbed Jackie, yanking him upwards to a standing position, and pressed a knife to his neck.

Jameson gasped. “A-an!”

“I’m going to kill him,” Anti said calmly. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I can’t handle three of you after all. And he’s the most useless.”

“A…aan.” Jameson shook his head slowly. He didn’t dare to take a step forward. Jackie had looked terrified when Anti grabbed him, but the moment he said he was going to kill him, all emotion seemed to drain out of him. Now he was slumped, eyes blank, not there at all. Please, Jameson simply signed.

Anti looked him in the eyes. “The only way you can convince me not to is if you come with me right now.”

Oh.

So…that was the plan.

Jameson wasn’t sure why he wasn’t more shocked. No…no, actually, he knew why. But somehow, it surprised him to feel this lack of…well, surprise.

But in any case, he couldn’t let Jackie die. 'Alright,' he signed slowly. 'I’ll go with you.'

“Good. Follow me.”

Anti walked out of the room, right through the door, and Jameson followed behind him, quietly. He tried to catch Jackie’s eye, but Jackie wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. He just let Anti pull him along with the blade at his throat.

They went down a hallway and arrived in another, which they then walked down to arrive at a door. Anti pushed it open with his shoulder, and then they were in a small backyard, hardly more than a strip of grass. Jameson glanced at the neighboring houses, but they looked empty. But…maybe someone could see them? Maybe someone would call the police, if they hadn’t already been called.

There was a car parked in the gap between their house and one of the neighbors. It didn’t have anything distinct about it, a simple, gray, four-door car. But the trunk was a bit open. Jameson caught a glimpse of some sort of suitcase—maybe multiple suitcases—before Anti kicked the lid closed. “Stupid boot,” he muttered. “Jameson, get in the passenger side. Leave the door open.”

Well, he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? Jameson walked around to the passenger side and got in, sitting stiffly on the edge of the seat. He wiped his face, clearing up blood from his nosebleed.

“Good.” Anti nodded once. He then shifted his knife to his other hand, still keeping it pointed at Jackie, and used his other to rummage around in his bag until he pulled out a small bottle. He popped the lid open. “Hold out your hand.” When Jameson did, Anti shook a few small pills out of the bottle and into his palm. “Swallow three of those.”

That was the part that got Jameson to finally say something. Or, try to, at least. “A-annn? Yuh…c-c-cannn’…beee sss—”

“Don’t do this, Jamie,” Anti said through gritted teeth. “I know what you’re trying to do. Just eat them, okay?” He put the bottle back in his bag and switched the knife between hands again. He pressed it firmly into Jackie’s neck, causing a drop of blood to trickle down from where the blade met skin.

Jameson nodded, and hurriedly threw the pills in his mouth. Anti watched him closely, making sure they were eventually swallowed. “Good,” he said again. Then he closed the car door. Immediately, Jameson heard the clunk of the lock. He was expecting that…but he wasn’t expecting Anti to walk back towards the back door they’d come from, taking Jackie with him.

“Hhh—!” Jameson pressed his face and hands to the window. “Aaaan! N-nuh!” He banged a fist against the glass. “Nnnuh! Nn—n-n-no!” He screamed. But Anti didn’t even look towards him as he disappeared back into the house with Jackie.

He tried pulling at the door, but of course, found it useless. And looking around the inside showed there wasn’t a way to open the car from the inside. That was probably a safety hazard, but Jameson was willing to bet that Anti had the car modified. He spun around in his seat, looking for anything that would be of help in the back. But there was nothing. Except for…a man. Asleep, sitting in the back seat. Pale skin and brown hair, with a yellow-purple bruise forming on his cheek. Jameson was confused for a moment, until he noticed the plastic medical bracelet around the man’s wrist and remembered. That was Henrik, wasn’t it? Schneep? He hadn’t recognized him. Of course, they’d only met once, and Schneep had spent most of it freaking out, thinking that Jameson was Anti. He looked unharmed, but he was clearly unconscious, and therefore couldn’t help them get out of the car.

Frustrated, Jameson started kicking at the door, leaning back to build up as much force as possible. He tried hitting the window. But it felt as solid as the actual door. This went on for a few moments, until he saw the back door opening again. And Anti came back outside. Alone.

That made him stop, fear shooting through his heart.

Soon, Anti sat down in the driver’s seat. “Alright, finally,” he said under his breath, glancing up at the dark, early-night sky. “We’ve wasted enough time—”

Smack!

Anti was too surprised to even cry out as Jameson’s fist connected with enough force to whip his head to the side. “Y—you just—” He pressed his hand to his cheek and looked at Jameson in disbelief. “Jamie, you hit me.”

'Don’t FUCKING call me that!' Jameson threw his hands in Anti’s face, almost hitting him again. 'Not after all that! You don’t deserve it! You’re the most horrible person I know!'

Anti glanced back towards the house. “He’s not dead.”

'Well I don’t trust a word you say!'

“Just…” Anti sighed, and rubbed his cheek. “Just go to sleep and be quiet, Jameson.”

'Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?' Jameson seethed. 'You’d like to have a perfect, quiet, naive kid brother that you can protect and therefore feel good about yourself for once. Well he doesn’t exist. Not one of those words describes me.' Jameson turned away. 'Don’t ever call me your brother again. You make me sick.'

Anti didn’t say anything in response, and Jameson refused to even look at him. The car started, then pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

As the house on the corner faded into the distance, Jameson’s anger lessened, overtaken by the fear and all-consuming worry he’d felt before. He could only hope that Anti wasn’t lying about Jackie. And he didn’t like that. He didn’t like relying on this…person for anything. But, unfortunately, he was at his mercy for the time being.

He had to find a way out. Not now, though. He could already feel the sleeping pills starting to take effect. But as Jameson closed his eyes, he swore that he wouldn’t let Anti be in control of anyone ever again.