02.04.202X - Walls and Windowpanes

Walls and Windowpanes 

 

“So, you refreshed? You... ready to go?”

Katie shot her an expectant, nervous gaze. Whatever was behind the facade was hard to make out, although it didn't take much guessing. The short break they'd enjoyed at The 'Shoe had almost been enough to instill some false confidence in the two of them.

Just sitting there like they owned the joint, drinking soda and joking around, finally getting to the bottom of the peanut bowl.

A pretense of control.

That's all it was.

But she had to be ready. It was sink or swim. No other options, no golden mean, no third choices. No matter the hunger that finally made itself known after the adrenaline wore off, no matter the slight nausea from the mixture of stale peanuts and sugary soda, no matter the wet clothes and tired legs and constant overwhelming anxiety...

Sayori nodded.

“Yeah, I'm... I'm refreshed. Raring t-to go.”

“Attagirl.”

Two fake smiles. Pot and kettle.

The rain hadn't let up, although that much had already been obvious from the inside of the bar. Still, up until the point where Katie slowly opened the door and made the storm and fury as apparent as it could be, Sayori had prayed and hoped that the weather would magically clear up somehow, blue skies and sunshine banishing the rain-clouds during the ten-step journey from her table to the front door.

No dice.

Her parka hadn't dried much – rather the opposite, it felt like – and the moment she stepped out from under the awning she found herself grimacing in distaste. But it was sink or swim.

Marche ou crève.

So, she trudged along, blue eyes darting to and fro, checking for movement and silhouettes, her heart rate back in the triple digits again. The road felt like the biggest issue – the long, winding line of cars had started to taper, but there was still far too much visual cover there for her to feel comfortable turning her back to it.

So, she didn't.

The smell of wet asphalt, thunder flashing and roaring in the distance. The constant hammering of raindrops against steel and concrete had turned into something more reminiscent of radio static than anything else. While still nervous, Sayori's heartbeat had gradually slowed even as her clothes got more and more soaked. This felt dangerous.

True, they hadn't really seen anything except for distant silhouettes and a blood-stained window in the laundromat next to the bar, but...

...The numbness was what really made her anxious. She was winded, again, trying her best to keep pace with Katie while keeping her steps as quiet as possible, clutching her crutch, eyes darting to and fro, but she still couldn't will herself awake, couldn't make herself more alert.

She was falling into routine.

And so, when they passed the bookstore, and found themselves in an intersection, that routine got the best of her. She scanned left, quickly, furtively, and somehow glossed over a humanoid shape, sitting with its back to the fence among the stunted trees next to the local police station.

Then, she felt something was amiss, and checked left again, and realized that now, the creature was standing. She locked eyes with it, a pair of clear blues meeting a single jaundiced, bloodshot black, and the being started trudging towards her, slack-jawed, unnatural, puppet-like.

 

It's pretty far away. If you start running now you'll lose it easily. No, you have to tell Katie. Hasn't Katie seen it? Maybe if you start running Katie will get the idea as well. Where's Katie why is it getting closer why was it even there it's not supposed to be here you're faster than that thing why is it moving like that where's Katie did she leave why is it so close

why aren't you moving

why

why is it

“Sayori!”

Heavy, running steps. The creature was close enough to touch. She finally realized what was wrong with the other eye – there seemed to be a small wasp's nest inside the cavity. There was a strange smell in the air, strong enough to override even the scent of springtime rain and growing grass, and if she'd had the capacity for it, she would probably have dry-heaved.

As it stood, however, she stayed still, tried to make herself invisible and inaudible, tried to breathe as quietly as possible. She tried to not pay attention to the pale, jaundiced visage with the wasp's nest staring her in the face, or the mangled hand reaching out towards her, finger bones jutting out through shredded flesh like a set of claws.

But it felt far too difficult to ignore.

There was movement in the corner of her eye. Something olive green and carmine and pale and livid, something that kicked up small splashes of water with every stride, something that held a dented baseball bat with a white-knuckle grip and bared teeth.

too far she's too far she's not gonna make it

“Fucking MOVE!” Furious, terrified – a white-hot spike burying itself in her brain, her entire body jolting awake with a gasp, the trance over as suddenly as it began.

Suddenly, she remembered that she had legs, and that she should get away, and that now she'd messed up really bad, and...

She felt her heartbeat skyrocket, and idly wondered how Katie could still be so far away, and why everything looked kind of like something you'd see in a fun-house mirror, except instead of proportions it was like someone had messed with her ef-oh-vee slider, and how weirdly garish the cannibal's shirt was, and...

And then, she moved.

 

She could have ran away. She probably should have. She ought to just let Katie deal with it again. Let Katie clean up her mess. Let her risk life and limb while Sayori made herself as useless as possible.

She'd even managed to shift her balance away from the creature and had taken a quick step away, ready to launch into a full, adrenaline-fueled sprint, the kind that left you sore for days after, the kind that was fueled by that same biological imperative she'd cursed so many times already.
She almost ran.

Almost.

But there weren't any third options here. There was no golden mean. It was a binary; sink or swim.

Run or stay.

Fight or flight.

The little running start she'd taken, the one that was supposed to lead into a full sprint – now it turned into something more reminiscent of a boxer's footwork, her right foot digging into the glistening asphalt, her measly body-weight concentrated on the ball of her foot.

Then, like a spring under tension, her thigh contracted as she turned her upper body around and brought the crutch up with cold, clammy fingers, ready to put as much force as possible behind the rubber-clad point. Almost as an afterthought, she noticed the pain in her leg from the abrupt switch, and dismissed it, filing it away for later. It didn't matter – she didn't have time to think about it now. 

 

If everything previously had felt strangely slow, as if the universe itself was holding its breath, now everything felt strangely fast, stimuli so overwhelming it was impossible to process, instead passing by frame by choppy frame, all higher functions gone.

She felt the tension in her leg dissipate, and suddenly she was moving closer to the creature again, and there was a small off-blue rubber dot in the bottom of her vision that she somehow innately guided to chest height, and she let out the breath she'd been holding as she felt something soft and meaty at the point of contact and then she pushed with her arms as well and suddenly the creature fell back with what almost seemed like a look of surprise, falling over onto the gravel-strewn asphalt with a demented moan and a thunk and she just managed to halt her momentum before she went head over heels as well, a single thought forming in her mind, a pleasant rush growing through her body.

Success.

Katie didn't take long to arrive, but seemed reluctant to end the creature – she held the bat with a white-knuckle grip, a look of disgust on her face, small beads of sweat forming on her brow and immediately disappearing into the cascade around them. Sayori drew heavy breaths, forcing as much oxygen as possible into her bloodstream, and suddenly the crutch in her hands felt more laughable than anything else, the shoddy construction and lack of heft both equally apparent.

She gave the creature a little slap in the gut with the rubber-clad aluminum, but her heart wasn't in it. Honestly, the only thing that felt more pathetic than the crutch she held was the creature itself – bringing to mind a turtle on it's back more than anything else.

Maybe they didn't have to kill him. It. Maybe if they left quickly enough, the thing would forget about them, or maybe it was somehow unable to follow, or...

 

“Christ.”

Katie's voice was strained and nauseated, almost hoarse, filled with distaste. She fell silent, fingers wrapped around the grip of the bat, and repeated herself while shaking her head.

“...Christ.”

She tasted the air, shuddered, and finally drew her gaze away from the creature. While he – it – was positively nightmarish to look at, alien and uncanny, Sayori felt strangely disconnected from everything. Most likely, that visage would return to haunt her later, but right now she felt more... curious than anything else. Even after she noticed the smell.

A couple careful steps forward, then the crutch came whizzing through the air point first, this time striking its stomach, sinking into soft flesh. The creature let out another confused moan, head leaving the ground from the force of the strike, a smear of sticky blood left behind on the asphalt.

 

She'd drawn first blood.
This time, it was her.
My turn.

She stood there, and tried to figure out the strange heat that was spreading through her chest, and when it looked like the creature was finally going to get back up she planted the sole of her boot squarely on it's left cheek, pushing it down onto the asphalt again.

“You're not leaving.”

Normally, these were words she'd regret, that she'd cringe at, that she couldn't have forced out no matter how hard she'd tried, and even if she'd managed to force them out, they certainly wouldn't have sounded the way they did now.

Sharp and bitter and steely, pushing it's way out of her stomach and through her diaphragm, leaving her lips before she even fully realized what she was saying or what she was doing – it didn't even feel like her voice anymore, let alone her words.

She stood there, digging her heel into it's cheek, drawing thin red lines onto ashy white with every little movement, and wondered at how different everything felt. She'd done it. Not Katie, not the police, not the military – it was her, and her alone. Of course, it was still alive, it was still moving, but...

There wasn't any contest anymore. She'd won. She wasn't the one on the receiving end this time, no – she was the one in control now.

Her.

 

Clumsy and ditzy Sayori Takahashi from 2-C with the messy uniform and the pathetic crush on the only friend she'd managed to make.

Sayori Takahashi, weak and timid, with personal boundaries as strong as wet tissue paper, that you could brow-beat and guilt-trip into doing anything you wanted because nobody had to care about her feelings, no, she wasn't worth that much.

Stupid fucking Sayori Takahashi who keeps dousing herself in gasoline and playing with matches because keeping everybody else warm was more important than staying alive.

Goddamn filthy fucking whore-

“...Sayori?”

Concern. Oh no. It felt familiar. All too familiar. Had this happened before?

“...are you... you're kinda, uh... spacing out, y-you...”

And with that, the spell was broken, and Sayori finally noticed that more than anything else, at this moment she was soaked and freezing Sayori Takahashi with the sodden jacket and the chafing boots, and then she really noticed the smell, and suddenly she wanted to be anywhere else.

“Yeah! Y-yeah. I'm... s-sorry, I was... I k-kinda got lost in thought, I... I dunno what I was t-thinking, um...”

She took a shaky breath, her voice hoarse, and finally noticed just how much her feet hurt, how much her everything hurt, how the sweat running down her body burned and stung where the straps of her pack had dug themselves in, how the raindrops wormed their way through the Gore-Tex, and in that moment she felt completely and utterly defeated.

“...c-can we... can we g-go?”

She almost managed to mouth a please, but her voice gave up halfway through the word, turning it into something more like a hoarse squeak than anything else, and now she almost felt tired and hungry enough to cry.

Katie seemed to have caught her expression, and gave a shaky nod, wrapping her arm across Sayori's bony shoulders, the baseball bat resting across her own, trying to share at least a little bit of warmth in the downpour. It wasn't apparent whether or not it worked – although the gesture seemed to be appreciated.

And so, they crept off into the pouring rain, two nervous, exhausted shadows stalking along, one after the other. They left the creature where it laid – it wouldn't be following them anywhere.

Not anymore.

“Shouldn't be far. N-not anymore.”

Katie suppressed a shudder, and cast a furtive glance out from underneath her hood, trying to look past the curtain of gray that had been draped over the entire world. Occasionally, she'd catch humanoid silhouettes in the corners of her eyes, but when she looked again they were either gone, or actually something far more innocuous – a sapling here, a garbage bin there, bushes in every single God-damn yard.

Whatever Sayori replied, she didn't quite hear – the girl had been quite muted after her... encounter. No wonder, that was far too close a shave for her liking, to say nothing of how Sayori herself must have felt, but...

 

Katie shook her head.

At least she didn't have to finish it off this time. Truth be told, that was almost enough to cheer her up, despite how hellish the weather was – it was a guilty kind of happiness, but it was happiness, nonetheless.

Not that she felt a hundred per cent comfortable with how they'd dealt with it, but...

Katie sure as Hell didn't want to deal with it. Someone's skull gradually turning into mush under repeated swings was a sensation she'd had more than enough of, even after only one time.

And Sayori – Sayori would either make a sickening mess of it, or maybe she'd end up even more distraught than she already was, or both, and then the rest of it would fall on Katie's shoulders anyway.

She tried her best to not think about it, but try as she might to remind herself that they were almost there, almost at the finish line, that a single moment of carelessness could end with her death – some things just stick with you through thick and thin. Some things can't be forgotten, can't be hidden away or bottled up, not that easily, not that soon.

It was the vibrations, or perhaps the resistance, that really set her off – how you'd feel the first two or so strikes all the way through your spine, the bone still putting up enough resistance to exert force back towards the assailant. Of course, then the break point came, somewhere around the third swing, and you suddenly felt how the skull gradually turned more wet, more mushy, until eventually it felt more like tenderizing a steak than anything else.

Katie shook her head again.

 

At least the streets had been fairly empty after the initial congestion. They probably weren't big fans of the rain, either – in that case they two of them would have to get used to it. Either way, there's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes, and today had definitely been character-building, if nothing else. Still, if the rain kept up the way it had for much longer they might end up with flash floods again.

The year had been cold, unpleasantly so, and the rains kept getting worse and worse, it seemed.

Strange.

She didn't remember much of the weather from her childhood.
She didn't remember much at all from her childhood.
It probably hadn't been this rainy. Or maybe she'd just been indoors too much. It was hard to-

“...We're here.”

Sayori almost walked nose first into her shoulder, the girl looking absolutely exhausted. A small U.S. flag, dripping rainwater, hung off the equally small flagpole stuck into the yellow brick facade, the neon sign beside it flashing intermittently. Still, the inside felt as inviting and warm as ever, and a cursory glance through the rain-battered windows put her mind even further at ease. It seemed abandoned, or as close to it as one could get. Not a soul in sight.

The white oak door swung open, and she tried her best not to agitate the bell too much – although it felt like whatever noise she'd made had been drowned out by the rain, and after Sayori trudged inside, looking as cheerful as a soaked cat, Katie finally allowed herself to relax.

They sat there for a moment, both too tired and frozen to do much else, basking in the warmth of the space heater Katie had cranked up as high as she could. Soon, sensation started returning to her fingers again, worming its way along her skin, and it didn't take long for her jacket and beanie to become a soggy pile slung over the back of a nearby chair.

Blowing her nose into a tissue she'd pilfered, her sense of smell slowly returning as well, Katie smiled. They hadn't baked anything this morning, definitely not, but whatever was left in the glass showcase was still very much fresh. The two other shops flanking the bakery seemed equally promising, but...

One thing at a time.

Maybe Sayori would have liked some bourbon pie first?