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The Forgeries Of Jealousy
Content Warning:
- Transphobia referenced
- Fears of turning into a large insect might be triggered
- Body horror
All characters are original and their behaviors should not be taken to reference the actual behavior or any opinions of such behavior of any groups the characters might belong to
Source on the Shakespeare: http://shakespeare.mit.edu/midsummer/full.html
A Midsummer Night's Dream, II.1
Source on information on nematomorphs: "Invertebrate Zoology: A Tree Of Life Approach" By Bernd Schierwater and Rob Desalle, CRC Press, 2022, Chapter 33, Pg. 515

⚠ content warning
I.1: Tricks
Dust and cobwebs crawled all across the room, over the towering heaps of clothes and boxes and shopping bags of mail. The plants in the window had been dead for months, dirt fallen from their table and water stains on the dirty, dusty sea-green carpeting. But the Jack-O'Lantern burned bright above the fireplace, casting its light through the dust, catching in the empty eye sockets of the skull by the door.
Those empty orbits had a commanding view of the main floor of the house, atop their skeletal perch. The silver statue sat atop its orb, regal as an Athenian king; its ribcage twisted and melted into strange cyclopean structures, a dollhouse of worship for the tiny statues within.
The house breathed, as all houses are wont to do as the temperature heats and cools across its length. The dust circulated through it, all around the Babelic towers of material, and through and intimately within that sacred skull.
It was a silent house; a dormant house.
It was in this environment that Jeremy Sprocket found himself, eyes adjusting to the low, flickering light. His eyes made a wide sweep of the place as his nostrils wrinkled at the dust. "Humphrey can't expect us to have the party here, can he?" He used the pleading voice he used when he told the parents of the children in his Tae Kwon Do studio about their childrens' behavioral problems. "I've stayed in homeless shelters classier than this."
"Then leave and go over to their party, jackass," said Ness Halicarn, entering right behind him. "Class is a thing you bring with you, not a function of the environment."
Jeremy had come dressed as Alexander the Great, and the costume suited him well. The sword-and-sandal motif put his gorgeously chiseled abs and exquisite calves on full display. He looked like a man ready to conquer. Ness, by contrast, had chosen a simple zombie look, and the job she had done on her makeup made her a truly ghastly sight to behold. A casual observer, however, couldn't really tell whether the scent of many unbathed days was also an affect, or genuine.
"You expect us to have a good time here?" Said Laszlo, pulling a box from off a table. "These Twinkies expired in 1999!"
"What better Halloween decoration could there be?" said Ness, pulling out one of the moldy cream-filled cakes from the box, inspecting it with an artist's eye. "I could cover a canvas with this image, highlight the beauty in decay. Humphrey's laid out the most beautifully unsettling decorations." She searched for a place to sit and came up empty-handed; there were no chairs uncovered by the towers of rotting papers and time-worn clothes. "He could have made the place a smidge more habitable, though."
"You can say that again," said the man now arriving, "The atmosphere in here is positively stifling! Where is our host? Humphrey!"
"We haven't seen Humphrey yet," said Ness, "We waited outside for a while until we found the door was open. I'm sure you'll see him eventually."
"I won't, sorry," said the man, tilting his dark glasses and waving his white cane.
"Oh, sorry," said Ness, "I didn't notice that, Mister…"
"My name is Laszlo Nahum, inventor of the Refrigerated Socks for hot climates." He paused for effect. "I know, I know; you're probably all starstruck. Rest assured that under this wealthy exterior is a plebian soul not unlike yourselves, a man who just wants to party like it's 1999!"
"Oh, so you brought the expired Twinkies!" said Ness.
"Very funny. You sound just like my fifteenth ex-girlfriend," said Laszlo.
"And you sound-" Jeremy tapped her on the shoulder. "What?" she asked. They drew away into a huddle.
"Ness, I- I really don't want to be around that man," said Jeremy. Ness stared at him. Laszlo seemed like a creep, but was he really worth that look of dread in Jeremy's eyes?
"I don't like him either, but we don't have much of a choice," said Ness. "There's only the three of us at this party so far, and we can't very well avoid socialization in all the ways we used to hide from the cops."
Laszlo tripped over the train of his worm-suit and cursed.
"The way we used to hide from the cops…" Jeremy mused. "Like charity work. Come to think of it, this place would be the better for a bit of benevolent burglary."
Ness got a gleam in her eye. "You know, that junk-hauling company owes me a favor, and I'd really like to get Humphrey in my debt."
"So what are we going to do? Spend the whole party throwing all the trash in here outside?"
"Would you rather, perhaps, spend it with Laszlo?"
"Good point. Let's go-"
A look of dawning logistical horror came on Ness's face. "No, no, no. Not us. Just you."
"But that would leave you with him, and you just said you didn't like him either!"
"Listen, Jeremy," said Ness. "It would be a real, real bad look for me if I left a blind guy by himself in this hazardous house."
Jeremy sighed. "All right." He turned to Laszlo. "I'm going to start cleaning up in here," he said, raising his voice an octave. Ness stared. Why was he disguising his voice?
Jeremy disappeared into the thick pathways of junk. Ness watched him leave, then turned her head to find Laszlo approaching her.
"You know, my hearing is still perfectly good," whispered Laszlo. "I know he's doing that just to get away from me, though for the life of me I don't know why. But never let it be said that Laszlo Nahum stood back and let everyone else do the work!"
He paused. "I may…" he started, "need some help navigating and identifying things. I'm not Daredevil. But my arms are in good working order, and from the sound of it, this house needs all the hands on deck it can get."
"So you're dragging me into helping you?"
"Hey, I heard what you were saying earlier! I heard the inflection in your voice as you realized it had to be him alone. You wanted to clean this place up, you just had to safeguard your image by babysitting a fully grown man." He paused. "Well, now you get to do both. Come on, there's broken furniture to move."
"All right," sighed Ness. This was not her idea of a Halloween party, but if she could stick it on her social resume, it was fine with her. She led Laszlo to a corner and started to work.
I.2: Rehearsal
The house had more than one unlocked outer door, and through another of them came a bright-eyed young girl in her eleventh autumn. The room around her was lit by the flame of a Jack O'Lantern over the fireplace, and on the house's sole usable table was a bowl of candy. She took in the architecture of the room, gazing with interest at a pile of rubber masks of various livestock and a functional turntable complete with record, until her eyes lit upon the skeleton in the corner. She picked up a chocolate and went to examine it.
She took out a yellow sketchbook, flipped through reams of costume and theater set design, and started to sketch the temple that stood where the skeleton's torso ought to be. She unwrapped the chocolate, left the wrapper on the ground, and began to chew.
Jeremy had found a good starting point: a tarnished claw-foot table over a camel-hair rug, covered in stacks of VHS tapes. He thought it would be easy to throw all of them out, as nobody used that old format anymore; yet he stopped to look fondly over his childhood favorite cartoons. The mystery show with a talking dog, Kain Pathos Crow, What Do You Know?. The sword-and-sorcery show about the psychotic butterfly master, Kondrak The Barbarian. Whatever happened to that one? he thought. Then he remembered as he picked up a dusty copy of the last movie in that series. Ah yes. They went severely over-budget on the special effects of Kondrak riding Godzilla. At least the show's spinoff, Zyn: Warrior Princess had done well; more popular by far than its predecessor. Last he had heard, Adult Swim had picked up the rights to the Kondrak character; he vaguely remembered a mind-numbingly stupid premise involving a water bottle. One of these days he would have to look that up again. The days in the sun of popular characters would be long over if people didn't find new ways to portray them.
No. No! He would not fall victim to nostalgia. He would not let this house lure him into attachment. Jeremy was a free man, and he would throw out whatever was useless. He shoved a whitewashed window open and threw the VHS tapes out into the dark. He stumbled over a leather bag and heard a clatter inside. He opened it up. Apparently, it had once contained identical ceramic figurines of a man with a ukulele, but they had all been smashed to pieces over the years. The bag was ruined, but Jeremy figured he needed a bigger box to carry things out; otherwise, he would have to take too many trips. He began to search, and his footsteps squished on the leathery floor.

"Can I toss this?"
"Hmm, let's see… 'A Waterproof Guide To Morse Code and Braille', by a Mx… 'Echo?' Odd pseudonym…"
"Ah, so it could be useful, then! I'll take that. What about this?"
"Some kid's book. 'Curious Kong and the King in the Yellow Hat.' "
"Right! I'll toss that. This feels similar?"
" 'The Wicked, Evil and Otherwise Infamous Tale of That Absolute Scoundrel, Johnny Appleseed,' by a Dr. King."
"Sounds like a real nutcase. We'll toss it. How about this box?"
"A two-sided Betamax tape. According to the label, it stores… something about Ronald Reagan, and something about a clown on the other."
"Ooh, really? Sounds like something so boring it could help me sleep at night."
"But do you own a Betamax player?"
"… Fair point. Toss."

Jeremy had found an empty box and was beginning to pour the broken shards of ceramic figurines into them when he heard a murmuring around the corner: "These are the forgeries of jealousy! And never since…"
He peeked and saw a middle-aged woman holding a book at arms' length, eyes closed. She wore a Statue of Liberty costume, yet her facial makeup was smeared, and beneath the crown Jeremy could see the cauliflower ears of a boxer.
"…The fold stands empty in the drowned field…" she continued saying, in a stream of faltering words.
"Hello? Miss?" Said Jeremy.
"… And crows are fatted with the mur- mur… What is that word? Damn it, I had it up to line seventeen that time! What do you want?" She said, glaring at Jeremy.
"I was just wondering what you were doing over here."
"I'm practicing my lines, and I'd do it a million times better if you wouldn't interrupt!"
"Sorry, carry on," said Jeremy.
"Ah. Murrion! No wonder I didn't know what the word was." She cleared her throat. "…And crows are fatted with the murrion flock; the nine-"
Jeremy resumed pouring the ceramic shards into his box. They did not go quietly. At last, the noise stopped, and the woman was able to resume.
"And crows are fatted with the murrion flock; the nine-"
Jeremy increased the angle of the box, letting the shards fall once more. The woman tapped her foot impatiently as this went on, an endless porcelain cannonade that rattled the eardrums and assailed the sanity. After far too long, it stopped.
The woman sighed.
She glanced sideways in trepidation at Jeremy, waiting a carefully timed pause.
She inhaled.
"And-crows-are-fatted-with-the-murrion-flock-the-nine-men's-"
Jeremy inverted the box wholesale, and all at once every remaining shard crashed down at once into his collection box. He started to whistle as he broke down the first box and began dragging the garbage away.
The woman closed her book. "What in hell are you doing?"
Jeremy lifted the box. "Same as you. Avoiding the party by assigning myself work."
The woman's jaw dropped. "Theater is not social avoidance!"
"Said the woman who chose to spend her time at a Halloween party in a corner memorizing a book. What you're doing isn't theater. You're not fooling anyone."
She drew herself up to her full height. Only now did Jeremy realize he was dealing with a seven-foot giantess.
"I don't have to justify my actions to anyone, least of all you, Jeremy Sprocket."
"Okay, okay- Wait, how did you know my name?"
"My daughter went to your Taekwondo class for a few months, a year back," she said. "She dropped it to pursue her after-school time doing theater." She sighed. "Now she's spending all her time with her theater friends, immersed in that world… I barely know her anymore."
Jeremy thought back. "You're… Columbia Sybilstein's mother?" He remembered the young girl with the giant mother, one who, unlike the other, more restless children, found comfort in the repetition of exercise, confidence in the choreography of martial arts. "I never knew why she left. She was so happy with us."
"Yes, I'm Rhodes Sybilstein," said Rhodes. "So now that we both know each others' names, I'm going back to memorizing Shakespeare, and you," She gestured to the box, "Can get on with your bit of preferred loneliness."
Her last words stung. "I'm not trying to be lonely, I just want to stay away from Laszlo." He looked back up at her, starting to say, "Maybe we could make the memorization process a social thing?" before realizing her skin tone had just gotten relatively pale.
"Laszlo's here?" she whispered. "Oh, no…"

"And this feels like the last of the kids' books. What is it?"
"Some Christian thing. 'Saint Paul and the Shipwreck,' by a Mx. Di." She opened the book. "Ooh, sneaky, it's trying to teach kids Latin. Not sure I care for that."
"Ness… Can I keep that?" Said Laszlo.
"Why, because it's pretentious B.S. to trick kids into learning a dead language by first tricking them into reading about religion?"
"No, I'm not a churched man, anymore," said Laszlo. "It's just… I always wondered about that Paul guy."
"What about him?"
"Here was, let's face it, a fairly gnarly mass murderer," said Laszlo. "He's just traveling down the road about to kill more people for what he considers blasphemy, when all of a sudden the head blasphemer appears to him and blinds him." he paused. "And then he starts working for the guy."
Ness stared at the pustules of mildew in the wallpaper. "Why does that disturb you so?"
"Because it's more than I could do, Ness." said Laszlo. She turned back to him. "Because I recognize that forgiveness is good and all, but the one thing I have left in this darkened brain is my hatred for the SOB who…" he paused. "Oh, never mind. Let's throw it out. Say, you know that show Doctor Who? You ever heard the story of…" he started spinning a wild yarn of treachery and subterfuge that Ness thought was almost certainly untrue.
Still, Ness could read faces like nobody's business. Laszlo clearly wanted to move on from his hatred. But he feared the emptiness that would follow. Yes, Ness thought, you had to have something to live for. Ness understood the feeling well.

The young girl absent-mindedly took another handful of chocolates from the bowl, her sketch of the skeleton's temple structure becoming more and more intricate. What a beautiful architectural style! A musical number could be sung in its praise, if she had someone to rehearse with.
But Columbia Sybilstein was alone among her family in her passion for theater. Her mother lacked the knack for memorization, or indeed any sort of subtlety. The tight scripts of plays gave rigor to an otherwise chaotic life, as Rhodes's boxing career took her on tour constantly, often leaving Columbia to be a latchkey child.
Columbia watched an insect crawl across the skeleton's ribs and sulked. She wanted to create something wonderful. She saw the skeleton and the temple inside it, and watched the insect crawl by the figurines that worshipped in the temple, including- was that figurine also a skeleton?
Something spoke to her in the darkened corners of her mind. Words and nothing more, but words she could not refuse.
She stared at the skeleton, and as she stared she reached for another snack. She took the bowl of the chocolates, and began to swallow.
Bowl, wrappers, and all.
II.1: Watching Movies
The house breathed as it hadn't breathed in years, as Laszlo and Ness disturbed the dust, opening the windows and carrying the broken furniture and expired jars outside.
Ness had hardly had time to think in all the time she had spent with Laszlo. On and on he spoke, as though he feared the silence. She learned the story behind his worm costume. "It's not just any worm," he had said, "It's a nematomorph! They're the scariest parasites I can think of, because they have a sort of natural mind-control ability: somehow, they can force their hosts to travel into water." Ness found it disturbing that Laszlo had known this, and she quickly zoned out of the conversation for quite some time, staring instead at the vein-like cracks in the ceiling paint. She could swear they were pulsing, but that might have just been her eyes.
"… And that's how my fourth girlfriend and I convinced the BBC to go ahead with the Doctor Who episode 'Blink', in spite of the threats by the Saints' Celestial Programming lobby." Laszlo paused for breath, searching for a story that would go well after that one, before remembering that girlfriends twelve and fourteen had both cited his lack of interest in them as people in their reasons for breaking up. "So, uh, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a painter," she said. "I hold up a mirror to society by painting the landscapes that fall between the cracks."
"Ah," Said Laszlo. "God's work, that. I used to love landscape paintings… before, you know…" He paused. "It's noble, but I imagine it's not helping to pay the bills much."
"It isn't," said Ness. "Luckily, the way I'm doing it I don't have many bills."
"How do you mean?" asked Laszlo.
"There was a time I had to choose," said Ness. "My parents threatened to kick me out when I told them I was trans. They told me I could stay in the house and keep my birth gender, or be who I wanted to be on the streets."
"That sounds awful," said Laszlo. Ness could see his outer shell soften, showing genuine concern for once. "I am so sorry. How could they threaten you with such a choice?"
"I still don't know," sighed Ness. "It was a tough decision. But I read my Bible, and I found a passage that helped me decide. "
"Never thought of that book as particularly pro-trans," said Laszlo. "I myself have often campaigned for the rights of-"
"I didn't look to it because it judged me," said Ness. "I looked to it because it makes me judge myself by my own convictions." She sighed. "The point is, there's this moral rich guy who almost follows Jesus, but he's too afraid of becoming homeless in the process. He gave up on his dreams of personal growth; I decided I wasn't going to give up on mine. That may not be what most people got out of that story, but I'm not most people."
Laszlo was stunned. For once, he didn't have a word to say about himself. And in the silence, he heard footsteps approaching.
"That must be Jeremy," said Laszlo. "Perhaps we should hide so I don't make him feel uncomfortable."
"All right," Ness said.
Jeremy let Ness guide him into a position behind some Costco stacks of water-damaged paper towels. "What is with that guy, anyway? Is he afraid of the disabled or something? I've never seen an ableist grown man so scared."
"I can't rule it out," admitted Ness, "But I don't think he is. He's a huge jerk, but he never acted that way around the blind guys at the shelter. And whenever I've been by, he's been kind to his blind students at his martial arts studio."
They fell quiet as they heard two people approach.
"Okay, that's line 1-3 you've got down pat, at least for now," Came the voice of Jeremy. "I just wish you didn't keep forgetting what we already practiced."
"All right, all right," said a female voice. "You've got the book, what's verse four?"
"'By paved fountain or by rushy brook,'" said Jeremy.
"All right. From the top: 'These are the forgeries of jealousy…'" said the female voice.
The voices continued, receding into the slight distance. Sound didn't carry all that well in this stifling house.
"I- I know those voices," said Laszlo.
"Oh?" said Ness. "Who's the lady?"
"Girlfriend number twelve."
"Of course she is," sighed Ness. "It's like you don't know how to make friends with women, you always have to skip straight ahead to the ultimate level. How do you know Jeremy, then?"
"I- I'll tell you in a moment, but first, please move your hand, it's really starting to make me uncomfortable to have my knee resting on it."
"My hand isn't anywhere near your knee."
"If you insist," said Laszlo, moving his knee away from the hand. "Anyway, they're gone, we can resume moving things."
"All right, get your foot off my back, and we can get up."
"I think I'd know if my foot was on anyone's back, thank you very much. Both of my feet are on the floor, where feet should be."
Ness brushed off the foot and stood up. "All right. On to getting rid of things once more. Give me a hand with a busted chair, will you?"
They left that corner, and the piles they jostled let fall a corpse hidden in them, whose hand and foot had troubled them so. It lay there on the bare floorboards for a few minutes longer, before the floorboards started to open up, stretching over a chasm of pus and blood. The corpse fell in, piece by piece.
The chasm started a coughing fit and, eventually, closed.
III.1: The Danse Macabre
A bloody yellow fluid dripped from the ceiling in a few places, but nobody noticed. Only the dark sockets of the metal skeleton took in the full picture. Its servant lurked in the corners.
"Oi! Jeremy!" Shouted Laszlo, rushing to the last place he had heard Jeremy's voice.
A hand reached out and grabbed a donkey mask from the pile, then turned on the record player.

It's the time of year
When we show our fear
Cause it's scary all the time
When we're given grace
To reveal our face
From the rat-race pantomime

"Laszlo Nahum," came the voice of Jeremy.
"I know who you are now, Jeremy!" said Laszlo.
"And I've always known who you are, Las-zlo," said Jeremy's voice. "You put on a good act, Laszlo, but I see through your guise."
"And who am I, then?" said Laszlo.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the house, Jeremy was stunned to hear his own voice speaking somewhere else. He ran towards the voices he heard, but it was hard going through the piles of junk. Somewhere in the shadows, he could dimly make out the shape of a donkey mask at the source of the voice.
"You're just a scared little boy, afraid to face himself in the mirror. An insecure brat, a child who knows deep down he isn't worth anything. How many girlfriends have you had, now? Nineteen? Twenty? And all of them left you when they saw you had nothing to bring to the table. What I did to you was a mercy. Now you won't have to face yourself in the mirror ever again."

Wealth fears the poor
As a force majeure
So they demonize that fate
As they don't befriend
On that social end
They don't know who to love or hate

Laszlo's voice came to Jeremy through the darkness. "I brought you into my home, gave you a place to sleep, and you repaid me by blinding me!"
Jeremy spoke. "Yeah, I- I remember that night.
"I hate thinking about it, honestly; it's why I've been avoiding you.
"I can't ask you to forgive me; it's the worst thing I've ever done, and I am so, so sorry."
"At least tell me why!" Said the voice of Laszlo. "Why would you do such a thing?"
"Why?" said Jeremy. He was fairly certain it wasn't Laszlo talking now, but his emotions were surging. This guy still didn't have a clue why Jeremy had reacted the way that he did? "Why? I'll fucking tell you why! You betrayed me.
"I thought I could trust somebody for the first time in years. And you- you stood outside my door the whole night just waiting for me to try to steal something.
"Don't try to pretend you were some good Samaritan, because a good Samaritan tries to build trust in good faith. If you wanted to help me and didn't trust me yet, you could have offered me a hotel room. But no! You thought you'd get all the glory by catching a crime that you created the conditions for."

When vampires kiss
And werewolves miss
The tender heart of man
You can love the dark
And fear the spark
In a lighted pleasant plan

Ness shrieked, slightly, as she felt someone bump into her. "Sorry," said a voice she recognized; it was Laszlo's twelfth girlfriend, who she really didn't know.
"It's okay," said Ness. "Are you okay? Hit anything in all this dark?"
"Thankfully, no," said the woman. "I can hear those two yelling, though. Too much drama for my taste."
"I could see that, yes," said Ness. She was uncomfortable, and retreated to where she felt best: on her moral high horse. "I could see when you were trying to memorize all those lines that drama's something you really have no interest in. That's rather boorish, to try to impress people doing something you hate, you know that?"
"I don't care about impressing any of you all," said the woman. "It's just…" she paused. "I've tried everything that feels authentic to me to try to bond with my daughter. Nothing has worked. I'm a giant boxer with a love for tacky-ass tourist traps; her world is so much more… cultured and complex than my own. It's important to spend time with one's loved ones, you know? It costs me, but I'd rather be a bit inauthentic than be cut off from the people I love." She sighed.
"I can't relate," said Ness. Her voice was cold. "In my experience, if a world shuns you, it's best to forgo that entire world. It's why I never slept at any of my friend's places after my parents kicked me out for being trans. They offered, they said it didn't matter, but I knew their prejudices."
"So, let me get this straight…" said the woman. "Out of all the homeless folks out there who would jump at that chance, you refused to sleep in a friends' house that would accept you out of principle?"
"I'm not blaming you for your homelessness," the woman quickly added. "You made the right choice in the ultimatum. But afterwards, it sounds like you, specifically, had the opportunity to make it easier on yourself, without endangering your truth, and refused. That's not principle."
"What would you know about principle, you hypocritical- " Ness had tried to avoid violence whenever possible, but this… this was too far. She raised her fists…

And the slasher's rage
Makes you turn the page
As you scream for them to flee
But they're trapped for fear
In the atmosphere
It just won't leave them be

It was the first time Laszlo had considered his own actions that night as anything less than honorable. It wasn't a good feeling. "You can't fucking blame the victim, Jeremy!" He shouted. "It wasn't my fucking hand around the fucking stiletto, and you know it! That? That was you!"
"But it can be now," whispered a voice to Laszlo. He stumbled back as tiny fingers thrust a sword-shaped letter opener into his hand. Laszlo's fingers closed around the blade.
Jeremy shouted, "I get it! What I did was wrong, and I am sorry! I can't ever make it up to you. But at least I did it honorably," he said as his urge to justify himself rose, "Punching up rather than down. What you did was-"
And then Laszlo tackled him, and a stabbing pain went through Jeremy's shoulder. He screamed.
"Well now," said Laszlo, "Let's see how your blood can make it up to me. And honor- hmm, does a blind man killing an able-bodied man running a taekwondo studio count as punching up?"
Jeremy rose, unsteadily, as Laszlo stood up in preparation for another stab, and hit Laszlo with a spinning hook kick, his preferred weapon for making contact in the dark. Laszlo stumbled backwards, and the stiletto in his hand stabbed the wall, which started to bleed. He ripped the knife back out and listened for the sound of Jeremy. He turned, hearing a noise, and stabbed in that direction, which was unlucky for Rhodes, because that's who he hit. Rhodes turned away from Ness, who punched her, knocking her aim a bit off kilter so that instead of Laszlo, she hit Jeremy, who tried to retaliate and sidekicked someone who later turned out to be Ness, who stumbled back into Laszlo, who rushed backwards in panic, careening off of Rhodes's fist and stabbing the bleeding wall again.
And that's when the house fully awoke.
The floor lurched. It groaned and trembled beneath the four combatants, who warily looked with unease at the floor, which was now oozing pus.
Jeremy decided he had had enough of all this and tried to make a beeline for the exit before tripping on the tail of Laszlo's worm suit.
He fell onto a material with all the warmth and texture of human flesh.
"What the heck?" said Jeremy, as he tried to get up. But he would not escape so easily. Rough stomach-lips formed around him on the floor, and hands and tongues grasped at his sticky, slippery flesh. They held him in place as the lips began to close.
And Laszlo struggled and shouted for help as the floor closed around him as well.
And Rhodes went limp, hoping like a true boxer to let the hands exhaust their strength before striking back. She could afford to wait. So she thought.
And Ness tried to be clever. She jumped onto the stacks of clothes and furniture and began trying to pathfind a floor-is-lava solution to get to the exit. But as she went, she heard a soft hissing behind her. Turning her head for a moment, she saw a small person in a photorealistic donkey mask lifting a Wiffle bat over her head, poised to strike.
The impact didn't hurt. It didn't need to. All it needed to do was destabilize the rickety pile of furniture Ness was on. The avalanche reached the floor, and the floor swallowed Ness whole.
IV.1: The Costume Contest
Verbally, the metallic skeleton said nothing. Nonverbally was a different story. It made eye contact with Columbia, acknowledging her staring at it, then gave a little twirl, a bow, and a cautious gesture of "who, me?" to its' forehead.
"You are… beautiful," said the young girl wearing the donkey mask. "Your body contains a literal miniature temple, and it's fascinating!"
They were alone in the house now. All the lights were out.
The skeleton gestured to its temple construct. It gestured to its sternum, near where its heart would be. Then it gestured, kindly, towards Columbia and her own heart.
"I suppose so," said the young girl in the donkey mask. "I just hope your plan works."
"Don't worry," said the skeleton, "You'll all live."
"But will we get to be human again?" said the girl.
The skeleton hesitated. "I didn't say you'd be happy," it said. "But you'll live."
Laszlo Nahum woke to a rough stinging sensation and tried to stretch his arms. Then he tried to stretch his legs. He tried to scream, and his mouth turned inside out as it extruded from his head-hole.
This was the point when he realized this party was well and truly ruined.
He thrashed about screaming, and felt the scratchiness of the pocket he was in. He tried to claw his way out before he remembered he couldn't claw at anything anymore, and tried the next best thing. He used his gnashing cone of teeth to try to chew his way out.
It's salt, thought Ness as her own inside-out mouth made an opening in the barrier. I'm surrounded by a cocoon of salt. No wonder it stings.
Jeremy finally managed to inch his way outside the salt barrier to be greeted by a wall of flesh. He couldn't see it, but he felt the pulsing veins of the living organ meat around him, blistered and kept at bay by the salt. How deep does this go? He thought.
And which way is up? thought Rhodes, as she began to chew her way through the cyst wall.
This feels… strangely natural, thought Jeremy.
Like I was made for this, thought Ness.
But I can't stay here, thought Laszlo.
I need, thought Rhodes,
To get, thought Ness,
To water. thought Rhodes. It wasn't a compulsion, just… a desperate instinct.
To water. thought Laszlo.
To water! thought Jeremy.
And as they chewed through veins and flesh, severing the lymph nodes and nerves and puncturing the intestines, some part of their newly nematomorphic anatomy sent out the signal to the living house.
That night the youth of the neighborhood told their parents wild tales. They claimed the old Humphrey estate had started to shudder, knocking loose some of its roof tiles and shattering its windows. Its foundations had buckled, and it moved its mass in waves, beginning to crawl like an enormous caterpillar. They had to run out of its way as it lumbered onto the street, making a beeline in the direction of the lake.
Amnestics covered the direct memories, but secondhand accounts were impossible to suppress. The legend lived on in the town of the year a lonely house had gone out to trick-or-treat.
The house began, slowly, to sink below the lake's surface.
*V.1: Bobbing for Apples**
The freshwater pouring in between the gaps gave Rhodes the sense of gravity that she needed. She oriented herself and made a huge effort to gnaw her way up to the surface.
With her humanoid senses which had made it into her nematomorph form, she saw Columbia, casually holding a conversation with a living metal skeleton as the water level rose, faster and faster.
"Columbia! What are you doing?" Rhodes shouted. Somehow the human anatomy required for speaking had been integrated into this Kafka form. "We need to get out of here before we drown!"
"We won't drown, mother," said Columbia. She took off her donkey mask. Beneath it, the skin of her face was cut into quarters, and the quarters opened up to regurgitate an inside-out mouth, complete with a circle of teeth. "I was the prototype for the transformation. We all breathe both air and water now."
"You knew?" said Rhodes. "You helped all this happen? Why?"
"Don't be a fool, mother," said Columbia. "The house was going to eat everyone once it woke up. But it can only digest humans. Hence…" she gestured to the remains of her face.
Ness breached the surface next. "You! Magic skeleton! Let us go!"
The skeleton shook its head. "I can't do that, Ness," he said. "You need a home and won't take one if offered. Someone has to look out for you, whether you like it or not."
Jeremy breached the surface. "What is everyone waiting for? Let's get out of here!" He wriggled his body towards the door.
"Now, now, Jeremy," said the skeleton. "What's left for you out there? Are you going to teach taekwondo without arms or legs?"
Jeremy paused for a moment. Then he launched his worm-form at the skeleton. His teeth bit and chewed, but they could not scratch the metal.
"Oh, Jeremy," said the skeleton. "Temper, temper. How very rude of you."
"Change us back!" said Laszlo, wheezing as he finally bit through the upper layer of floor-flesh.
"You don't get it, do you?" said the skeleton, its' voice growing stentorian. "None of you understand? I am the Guardian. I take in the people who have nowhere else to go. The transformation business is a last resort; it's a one-time thing. You can't change back."
"And frankly, from all your arguments, it really seems like you need to stay here. Jeremy's a violent criminal. Laszlo feels so insecure in himself that he needs to bully others to make himself feel better. They would do better in my care than out in the world."
"And you, Rhodes," it said, turning to her, "The neglectful parent of the bunch. Where were you this whole party when your daughter was alone? I think it's best to force you to stay here. With your daughter. You have a lot of time together to catch up on."
"These…" said Rhodes quietly.
"You idiot, you've doomed us all!" said Laszlo, pointing to Jeremy with his tail. "It sees one bad apple and it thinks we're all rotten!"
"These are…" said Rhodes, her voice halting, but gaining in strength.
"Don't blame me, you treacherous son of a bitch!" said Jeremy. "I'm honest about what I did. Your whole pretend hero shtick is way worse!"
"Great," said Ness. "Now I'm stuck in here for the rest of my life with you losers?"
"These are the forgeries of jealousy!"
Everyone looked at Rhodes. The water was up to waist height now.
Rhodes paused.
"This skeleton has nothing. No flesh, no blood, nobody to care for it. It's jealous of us all, and in that jealousy, it imagines every crime, every flaw, a million times worse. It sees no mitigating factors, no mercy. And you, Columbia, have fallen into the same trap."
"What trap, mother?" said Columbia. "You aren't spending time with me anymore. It's obvious that you don't love me."
"I- I still love you, Columbia. We haven't been spending time together because- because our interests have diverged so much. Each of us can't enjoy the things the other likes to do. And neither of us has made the effort to swallow our pride and do something we hate. Until now.
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
okay, how does the next line go, uh…
By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beach… beached margarine? margaret? No, that doesn't make sense… Ah!
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind."
"You- you memorized parts of Titania's monologue from A Midsummer Night's Dream? F-for me?"
"Because I love you, Columbia," said Rhodes. "I- I wanted to surprise you at the party, we could have acted out that scene together. I was afraid of disappointing you if I wasn't able to do it, so I left you alone. I'm sorry, Columbia."
The water was chest height now, and Rhodes fought to keep her mouth above water. She didn't need air to breathe, true, but speaking with inexplicably human vocal chords is a different matter.
"Now, come on. This is our last chance to speak in the voices we once had. Columbia, let's do this scene!"
"But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport." Started Rhodes.
"Therefore," said Columbia quietly.
"The winds, piping to us in vain," continued Rhodes.
"As in revenge, Have suck'd up from the sea contagious fogs," said Jeremy, to general surprise. "What? I helped her memorize the thing."
"You… helped Rhodes connect with our daughter?" said Laszlo.
"So what if I did, you big galoot- wait, 'our' daughter?"
Laszlo approached Jeremy, fighting through the rising water. "I…" he said, "Am nothing. I am nobody. I thought my hatred for you was all I had left. But I never realized how much more I still cared about.
"Rhodes… she's the only one of my former girlfriends I never got over. She left me and took Columbia, and I can't say I blame them for wanting to leave such a pretentious blowhard as I. If you helped them reconcile, it means the world to me. Thank you, Jeremy."
"You're… you're welcome, I suppose?" Said Jeremy. "This is a bit abrupt after all the stabbing you were doing earlier, too. You sure it isn't just because we're stuck together now, without any hands to hold your knives?"
"Hmm, good point," said Laszlo, who immediately began to try to gouge out pieces of Jeremy's flesh with his new, improved teeth.
"which falling in the land
Have every pelting river made so proud
That they have overborne their continents:" Said Ness, as she head-butted Laszlo out of biting distance of Jeremy.
"Shut the fuck up!" said Ness to Laszlo. "You want to hate Jeremy? Fine. Hate him. But know that he's got pretty good reason to hate you too.
"You've got to swallow your fucking pride, Laszlo. You said your hatred for Jeremy is all you've got left. But you've just admitted your joy on behalf of your baby mama. Now I've got an ultimatum for you. (Oh god I'm just like my mother… No. This is based on principle, not prejudice. On principle, goddammit!) You either keep that hatred alone and keep attacking… or admit to having more than one emotion at the same time like a goddamn mature human being! (Ha! Take that, Mom!)"
"The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;" Said Rhodes.
Columbia spoke. "Laszlo, Mom left you because you would never listen to a woman. Prove her wrong."
Rhodes said, "We're all in the same shitty boat now, Laszlo:
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
Ah! I got it that time!
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
For lack of tread are undistinguishable."
Laszlo's heart thumped loud in his ears. His affections for Rhodes, unreturned now but still as strong as ever, spoke in his heart. He searched his soul and found that on some level, it agreed with Jeremy; his own actions that night had been wrong. His soul's grip on his hatred slackened, slightly, for the first time in years. And he finally found himself in the shoes of Saul of Tarsus, on the verge of becoming Paul.
"I'm… I'm sorry for what I did to you, Jeremy," Said Laszlo. "It was real shitty of me. I understand that now. I'm ready… I'm ready to let go."
"And I'm sorry for what I did to you," said Jeremy. "It's not… it didn't make me feel better to punish you."
"I think it's time," said Ness, "That we did what we set out to do at this here party."
"Which is what?" asked Columbia.
"Why, throw out the garbage, of course," said Ness.
All the worms turned to the skeleton.
"What are you all looking at me for?" it snapped. "I saved your lives!"
"It would have been so much easier for you to warn us to leave the house!" said Ness.
"You're just like me," said Laszlo. "You put others in danger because you wanted to act the hero and establish dominance over your petty domain!"
And then as water filled the room, the worms jumped the skeleton.
Air bubbled from the drowning lungs of Rhodes.
"Blub Blumbab Blorbab Blanb Bleib Blibbleb Bleirb," she said.
She was the first to bite down on the skeleton's arm. It hit her, with the other arm, and it hurt severely, before-
"Blob blib blisb blob blib blymb blorb blabblolb blesb," said Jeremy, biting down its other arm as it kicked him in the thorax.
Ness and Laszlo nodded to each other, then tag-teamed, each barreling into the beleaguered skeleton, pushing it towards the closed door.
Now it was all up to Columbia.
She stood there, the skin on her face loose and peeling, staring at the skeleton. She swam away.
Ness and Laszlo looked at each other in despair.
Then Columbia came back holding the jack-o-lantern. She removed the lid cut into it and jammed the hollow pumpkin over the skeleton's head. She opened the door.
Jeremy and Rhodes loosened their bite as the three others slammed the skeleton out of the living room door.
It struggled. It tried to float back to the door, but the pumpkin kept it from being able to tell which direction was which. It smashed the pumpkin, but the impact to its head by its own hand left it even more dazed. As the house sank beneath the waters, it drifted to the surface.
As it crawled its way to the shore, it started muttering to itself, "That's the last time I let someone be so rude to me-"
"FREEZE, SKELETON!"
It looked up and saw a gun pointed at it by an agent of the SCP Foundation. Black vans were all around the area, investigating the trail of blood from where the house had stood to the lake's edge.
The skeleton sighed in disappointment.
V.2: Treats
And time began to pass from there.
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
They explored the deep, thalassic boundaries of the lake, only coming up to the surface late at night when nobody was around.
That rheumatic diseases do abound:
Jeremy caught some kind of illness the first month. Laszlo stayed by his bedside until he died. Laszlo went off to be alone for a while, afterwards. When he came back, everyone was surprised by the renewed vigor he displayed in trying to come up with a common nonverbal language that worms could speak.
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter:
The house of flesh became their primary food source in the second month, after they had hunted out the majority of the fish in the lake. Laszlo and Ness worked together to try to teach the rest Morse code, though Ness, artist that she was, never gave up on trying to come up with something more expressive.
hoary-headed frosts
Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
The third month saw Ness's practice pay off. She finally trusted Rhodes and Laszlo enough to pull her in to the practices. Laszlo and Rhodes stayed in shifts with Columbia, teaching her through the Morse code everything they had ever learned.
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set:
February saw Laszlo's health begin to fail as well. The house was mostly eaten, now, the bones in the flesh the only organs untouched.
the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries,
And in March Ness, Rhodes, and Laszlo debuted their performance for Columbia. Their vermiform bodies twisted and contorted around each other to form the shapes of words. Together, they subtitled the whole script of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Titania's monologue was, of course, the highlight of the show.
and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which:
In April, Laszlo was bedridden. Columbia began to wonder about the lifespans of nematomorphs. How long would they all last? The flesh-house was stripped entirely to its bones now, and they made it a shrine of sorts to the dead Jeremy.
And this same progeny of evils comes
Laszlo died in June. Ness's health began to fail in July; she passed in August.
The town stocking the lake with fish helped with their food supply, of course, especially since there were only two of them, which was lucky, since there was no more meat on the house.
They spent their days arranging the bones of the house into pleasing, sacred configurations; Ness had taught them that much. The three shrines for the dead people were well-polished, well-protected. It was a respectful place; a holy place.
Rhodes discovered Humphrey's skeleton in September, as her health began to fail. He had died, as best as they could ascertain, of natural causes, though living in a house like that with a living skeleton certainly couldn't have been beneficial to his health in any case.
From our debate, from our dissension;
Columbia spent her days in October by Rhodes' bedside. She begged her mother not to leave her. Rhodes comforted her daughter. "You will never be alone, my daughter," she tapped in Morse code. "There's always going to be God on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Don't listen to that one; its words are only the forgeries of jeal…" she drifted off into the final slumber.
We are their parents and original.
Five shrines stood in the skeletal temple beneath the lake. Columbia buried her mother and stood there on the lake-bottom. It was dark and cold, and it was so for the longest time.
Martin Rodriguez answered the doorbell. A Jack-O'-Lantern was bright on the lintel, orange and purple light strings casting a glow through her window. Tonight was a night so many children came through… he sighed. Soon he and his wife needed to start the process of adoption.
The door opened, and a girl stood in the doorway. She looked… strange; her skin didn't quite seem to fit too well, and she smelt of vermin and lakewater.
"So what's your costume?" said Martin. "I don't give out candy to people who don't wear costumes. You've got to make some semblance of eff- Ah!"
The girl's face began to split in the middle, slightly, the skin around the nose parting in four directions, before quickly coming back together. She saw his reaction, and turned away. Somehow, Martin felt she was in need of help and comfort.
"No, don't- don't go," he said. Yolanda Rodriguez joined him at the door. "You poor thing! Do you want to come in and have some tea? It's okay if you don't…"
She nodded and came in. She ran for Yolanda and burst out crying. Yolanda held her in her arms, and if she knew Morse code, she would have noticed the girl tapping:
Trick or Treat.


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After the first day of confinement, the doctor says that I might be here for a while, and that I should bring in some things to make me comfortable. I bring a shark plushie, a tiny cow plushie, and some pillows and blankets. The shark plushie remains in the bag, the tiny cow plushie is placed on my side, and the pillows and blankets become part of me after a few days.
After the third day of confinement, the doctor hooks me up to an IV drip and says it'll be with me for a few weeks. I am pretty scared; after all, I sleep on my right side a lot, but the doctor says it won't be much of a hassle. For the next few days I did not sleep well. Now I know how to sleep on my back.
After the second week of confinement, the doctor says that I should eat more, since that makes the medication work faster and I can be let go in under a month. I haven't been eating more, since most of the food I eat makes me violently ill, and the food I do eat comes out of my ass as oceans of brown, sometimes I see even red and crimson come out, but I nod and say to my doctor that I will eat more. I don't. I just don't have the energy.
There's a time when I woke up and… nothing. No pain, no suffering. I do all the things you do to check whether you're in a dream — I poke myself, check the words on the walls, etc., and still, nothing. I call the caretaker to walk me to the bathroom, angels sing on the walls, the halo of God descends upon me to bless my life, saints kneel on my feet as I carefully walk, I stub my toe on a table, my nails bleed a bit, that familiar pain comes back, and I am back to suffering.
Afer the third week of confinement, the dry cold of the hospital room I am in burns my nostrils, imprinting the deep chill of winter in my exposed bones, while the gradual drip of snot and nose fluid slowly freeze and chill around my nose. I feel each crystal slowly grow in my cavities, and it's bad enough that I request for the temperature of the air conditioner to be lowered. I am told the air conditioning is centralized, and they cover the air conditioner in a blanket instead. The cold still burns my nose.
After consulting with the doctor, they say that there is an experimental regimen I can take such that I can be let go in under a year. I accept the offer. Nothing really changes.
There's this one time where I woke up, and my skin is melting under the covers, each drip of my flesh slowly turns the bed into a deep, deep red, the rough texture of its cloth further aggravating the bleeding, yet my face was freezing outside, and the blanket-covered air conditioner does nothing to help me out here, so I call for the nurse to help me cool down, yet no one comes, and my new caretaker is deep in their dreams, so I sit there, burning inside, freezing outside. I promptly request for a thinner blanket next time, and a hoodie.
After the second year of confinement, multiple people come to have a Halloween party in my room. We have a lot of fun! It's a shame they have to see me like… this, but I dress as a skeleton (ha, ha), and one guy dressed himself in one of those slutty Roman gladiator outfits — my friends told me that since I barely go out as is, they decided to use this time to introduce me to other people they've met; out of all of them, he was the only one that talks to me and he is a bit of a cutie, not going to lie. My friends tell me his name is Richard.
We were having a lot of fun.
We had to end the event early because the gummy bear I ate completely disintegrated my flesh into a pile of squib and blood, caking each costume in my fluids as my muscles contract and scream in pain.
There's this one time where I wake up to intense stomach aches, rolling waves of pain while I sit there curled up and freezing, again (the air conditioner broke). I call for the nurse, and they gave me an injection of… something. The rolling pains stop, then comes back with a vengance. Sharp, stabbing needles of rough bone pierce and chafe my stomach, I try to vomit but my heart and bones threaten to stop and break from the forced vomiting I try to do. I ask to be sent to the bathroom, and I was, but nothing comes out. I go back to the bed, and went to dreamland.
After the waves of stomach pain, I wake up to feeling nothing. My new caretaker said I remained asleep for the whole time. Afraid that I am suffering from something again, I bit on my lips till they chapped and bled, each tiny lip flesh making me feel safe.
I'm scared.
What if this pain goes away?
After the third year of confinement, a few people come to have a Halloween party in my room. We have a lot of fun! It's a shame that some of my bones are exposed, but I wear the same skeleton costume I have been wearing, and Richard dresses in one of those slutty nurse outfits — he's really into the roleplay, asking me to call him Dick.
We are having a lot of fun, and it's an enjoyable time, despite the IV in me shocking me with pain every time I touched it. Dick approaches me, and we talk about how much more time I will spend in this hospital. He's a pretty good guy, and he's really into gaming and sports and drinking. I mostly spend the party talking to him, each word from his mouth feeding me hope and warmth. I bring up that maybe after this year, I might be able to go out now, and he winks at me and says that the both of us should go shopping. I don't know what he means by that, but I accept the offer and continue talking about stuff.
We have to end the event early, though — who knew dripping flesh flowing down the IV, coating each object it touched with a smooth sheen of red doesn't mix well with electronics.
Have I ever told you that my ears ring with the fury of a thousand suns now? It's just a thing. Did it come from the shells or from the screams or from the disease? Who knows, all I know is that it's another thing to manage. Oh, and the doctor says that after another battery of medication, I can be free.
After the fifth year of confinement, nurses and doctors still havn't found a way to stop the flesh from growing. I keep seeing a new caretaker each year (none seem to remain, curiously enough), and doctors are trying to find a way to stop the flesh from growing. I want to eat beef again.
There's a time where I brush my teeth so hard they bled. The doctors have to remove my gums for a quick clean before they reinsert it again. This extends my stay, again. I am weirdly happy about this news.
After the sixth year of confinement, me and Dick plan for this to be the last Halloween party we hold in the hospital; I wasn't a fan of Halloween anyway, and I need some fresh air. While the nurse and caretaker aren't looking, Dick — wearing that same slutty Roman gladiator outfit — and I, wearing a robe and nothing else, dripping with flesh and grime and shit, sneak out and run around the hospital. My bones, poking out, cold to the touch and stabbing me every time I touch anything, being held by his warm and large comforting hands.
We go up and down and up and down the stairs, weaving and hiding and sneaking from each doctor and nurse and janitor we find, until we reach the graveyard. Under the white light of the moon, the spooky trees send their strongest cold breeze to freeze my bones and it sends me shivering. Dick pulls me in, my dripping body staining his white underwear (he never really stopped wearing those after I commented on it during the first year), his warm body calming my spirit and warming up those seven bloody years of confinement, his warm stomach killing the cold clinical chill of the hospital, the growing thing in his pockets feeding my thirst and hunger for something. I pull away for a bit, insisting I was unclean, I was unworthy, but he pulls me in, and his bear hug tells me that it's going to be all right, it's going to me all right.
I wrap my bony hands around Dick, pushing myself further and further till I hear a pop, and although it's sloppy, although it's dangerous, although the crimson and golden and pearly fluids run down and around him and me, although it's scary and it's my first time, he guides me, he makes me feel whole, we mix together for a while, the grass mixing with the fluids as the gravestones are left with our presence, minor sharp stabs of pain overcome by rolling waves of pleasure while I come to him — it's the best thing that happened to me.
The next morning, we try to sneak in back to my room, but we were caught and he's quarantined for a few days.
Dick never visits me every day after that, but he occasionally brings roses.
I get it; he has work to do.
After the seventh year of confinement, Halloween rolls around and the doctor says maybe after a year I can leave — I will have to undergo another surgery, but at this point? I'll take anything that will take the pain away… or do I just like the idea of surgery bringing in more pain?
On the eighth year of confinement, I look around the hospital room. I see the various flowers, greeting cards, love and affection, free food and drinks, unconditional love, pain and suffering, the change that will happen when I leave this room, the life I will have to readjust to, the time to do all of that, the energy to do all that, the effort to readjust, the social interactions I will have to relearn when I go back, the changes that will happen when I step out of the room.
I see a shadowy figure near my bed.
Oh, sorry, what I mean is I see myself on the mirror under the dark light of the room. I see my normal self, without pain, without suffering, without something that makes me who I am in the mirror.
I'm scared.
I grab the nearest heavy object.
I look at my unbroken leg.
I wince a bit, then explosions of pure pleasure bring me to my knees with a slowly growing pool of red below me, along with the rough bone chafing against my skin as I keep giving myself intense pleasure, as the bones crack and splinter and bleed all over me, as I yell and cry for help as I break even more bones, each crack sending me to my knees, each crack making me scream in pleasure and moan in pain.
I'm scared.
I'm afraid.
I'm happy.
I'm okay.
It's just one more thing to deal with, that's all
As long as nothing changes.

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Randolph stood in the elevator staring at the floor number counter. The metal box was carrying them up to the main office on floor thirteen. They'd never been to floor thirteen before, on account of only being hired recently. They'd wanted to get a proper corporate job with the company their whole life, but child labor laws had prevented it until now.
The ding of the elevator ripped them out of their mind, back to the unreality of the Greazeburger main office. The metal doors slid open revealing a seemingly endless expanse of cubicles, desks, and beige carpet. Randolph was home.
They danced across the slightly sticky carpet and into the empty cubicle that was soon to be theirs. The lifeless box was full of untapped potential waiting for Randolph to start working.
They sat down in front of their computer and pressed the power button, ready to begin the job that would last the rest of their life.
"Hey Randolph, good to have you back."
They looked up at the intrusion. Looking down at them from over the cubicle wall was another Greazeburger employee with a nametag identifying them as Charmaine Greaze. Randolph had never met this person before, since they were hatched less than a week ago and had never met anyone.
"It's been really boring without you here, shame what happened to the previous you."
Randolph did not know what had happened to the previous Randolph, or any of the Randolphs down the long line of failed iterations. All they knew was the last one had been fired and they were here as a replacement.
"But hey, look on the bright side. You were re-cloned just in time for the Halloween party!"
"A party? I thought we weren't allowed to use that word after the incident."
"Higher court threw out the ruling, we're having another party!"
Charmaine ducked back down into their cubicle, and Randolph went back to work. Seconds slipped by like hours as they focused all their attention on the computer screen in front of them. They selected a row or column from one spreadsheet, then they pasted it in another. Then they did it again.
And again.
And then another time.
And again.
And once more.
and again.
And another.
And again.
And an extra one for good measure.
And again.
They looked up at the clock. It had been about ten minutes. This was the life.
Charmaine filled their vision again, leaning over the cubicle wall.
"Halloween party starts in five minutes, better wrap up your work."
Randolph hit the save button, and watched the system crash and delete all their hard work. This is fine, they told themselves. Just means they've got an extra chance to do it even better next time.
Assuming there was going to be a next time.
The door to the elevator started glowing bright orange, smoke pouring from the metal. The bubbling pile of molten steel gave way to reveal Martin Greaze, CEO of Greazeburger Earth.
"Hey gang, sorry I'm late. Door got stuck."
The greazey salesman put the heat ray in their pocket and walked into the office space, followed by a cart with a white sheet over it.
"Who's ready for a Halloween party?"
The office erupted in cheers as employees cast aside their work for a brief moment of pleasure. They were all so lucky to receive this boon, an entire evening with no desks, no spreadsheets, no jobs. Just entertaining, corporate sanctioned fun. They all had a chance to forget that tomorrow they'd be back in their desks as if nothing had happened. They could forget that they had been blessed with the opportunity to spend the rest of their lives toiling away in here.
Randolph stood up from their desk and moved with the crowd to the front of the office where everyone was waiting for Martin to start the party. They didn't much care for the celebration, but they hadn't been working as long. Maybe they'd understand after the party began.
"Alright everyone, line up in front of me and we can start working through the list of fun things to do on Halloween!"
Martin reached into the void and pulled out a long scroll coated in cobwebs. They unfurled the page and read aloud to the room.
"First order of business: costumes. We don't have it in the budget to provide full costumes or pay any of you enough to get your own, so I brought this new device the R&D team came up with."
They whipped the sheet off the cart, revealing a marvelous contraption. It looked like an old toaster with the word 'BONER' messily painted on the side. Martin jammed the plug into their hand and the machine came to life, spewing forth scraps of fabric and glue.
Randolph felt a strange tugging sensation on their face, and soon all the rest of their body. As if they were being pulled apart at the seams. Pain shot through their stretched nerves as their skin was ripped off, collapsing in a heap on the floor. Their muscles went next, and by that point there was so much missing they couldn't even feel it. In a matter of seconds Randolph was a skeleton standing in a pile of viscera that was starting to soak into the carpet.
Everyone else in the office went through a similar transformation. The skeleton that had once been inside Charmaine's body leaned over to Randolph's bones.
"This is way better than the last party, nobody passed out!"
Randolph very much wanted to pass out.
Martin's skeleton unplugged the boner and pushed the cart away.
"Great work team, now the real party can start. Who's up for pumpkin carving?"
Some of the skeletons raised their hands. Randolph raised both.
"Well that's a shame, because pumpkin carving is cancelled. The legal department said we can't bring knives into the office so we're just going to have regular pumpkins this Halloween."
Randolph gave a pained smile. They'd been really excited to drive a blade into a fruit and peel away its flesh until it looked like the face of a monster. But if the legal department said it wasn't okay, then it can't be done. After all, the legal department knew what they were doing and was always right.
Martin read through the rest of scroll and tossed it aside.
"Sorry gang, but the rest of the Halloween instructions are just a shopping list of candy I forgot to buy and all the stores are closed by now. Anyone got any ideas for how we can continue the celebrations?"
Randolph had an idea.
"How about we go trick or treating? We've got skeleton costumes, and I'm sure someone else has candy we can take."
"Nope, can't do that anymore. What if someone puts drugs in the candy? If any of you guys take drugs then you'll fail the piss tester and won't be able to compete in sporting events."
"When do we get to compete in sporting events?"
"I don't know, I'm not your mom. Now stop asking questions, you're not the main character here."
Randolph shrunk back down into the crowd of mostly identical skeletons. They looked around for Charmaine, but it was impossible to tell who was who when nobody had any skin or muscles or tendons or blood vessels or nerves or any other organs.
Martin tapped their foot on the pile of bloody remains they'd dumped on the floor.
"Anyone else got an idea?"
The mob of bone people shuffled around, nobody really sure what to do with the rest of the night.
Martin's watch beeped and they looked over at the clock on the wall. Midnight.
"Well looks like it's November first now. Party's over, back to work everyone."
Martin turned the dial on the boner from popcorn to reverse, and all the skeletons grew new bodies around them. A roomba drove into the office and started cleaning up all the excess skin off the floor while all the workers went back to their cubicles.
Randolph sat down at their desk and stared at the blue computer screen. Their new eyes burned in the harsh glow.
Charmaine leaned over the wall and waved.
"Hey Randolph, you have fun at the party?"
"Oh yeah, it was great. And there's only three hundred sixty four days before we get to do it again!"
They leaned forwards over their desk and got to typing. This holiday thing was going so well, they couldn't wait for the next one.


Dr Kira Moto

Want more?

"Mr. Reid, can I speak with you?"
"What is it, Hyuse? I'm quite busy." The man responded, looking over his notes once more.
Shiko shifted, still uncertain about this new researcher. "I think something's following me. Dad thinks it's a yokai."
The older man sighed. "Just because 6932 thinks something does not make it true."
"I'm serious! Something's stalking me!" Shiko pulled out the phone she received from Anders the year before, finding a video. "See!" Reid looked at the phone the teen was showing him, watching a video of something vanishing after eating a bit of stone. The ugly little creature seemed intent on Shiko the whole time.
Reid was silent a moment more before glaring down at the teen. "This is an anomaly, but it proves little else. I shall start an investigation." Shiko glared at him, more than a little annoyed at the researcher. Reid stalked off to collect his thoughts.
"Mr. Anders and Mr. Erickson let me help…" Shiko muttered as someone came up behind her.
A kind hand landed on her shoulder. "Something wrong, kiddo?"
"Mr. Reid brushed me off when I told him about the yokai following me." Anders had a kind smile adorning his face. "He's not as nice as Mr. Erickson."
"I know." The commander replied. "You two were close, so I get that you're having a hard time with another researcher." Shiko didn't respond.
"Hey…" A soft mumble began, capturing the man's attention. "Do you think we could investigate the yokai instead of Mr. Reid? Since he doesn't want me to help, I don't think it would hurt to do my own, right?"
Anders thought it over for a few moments. "I'm… not sure. It's against Foundation regulations to interfere in research like that. But we also don't have a site director, so I doubt you'd get in much trouble if you did." Shiko beamed. It wasn't a no, so she would go for it. "And no. I'm not going to break the rules for you." Shiko deflated at the addition, but her mind was already racing with the possibilities.

/=/

"I just need to sneak in there…" Shiko mumbled, watching Reid as he observed the yokai Anders' team had captured. She wanted to prove to Reid she could be helpful, no matter the cost. Shiko watched him poke and prod the yokai, watched as the creature gripped Reid's sleeve and began ripping it apart until it was nothing more than scraps, and watched as Reid finally got irritated and left the area.
"Finally," Shiko muttered, sneaking her way in. Despite her rather poor plan, she was optimistic. She rushed in, giving the yokai a brick she found outside, and pricked the creature with the syringe she had stored in her pocket. Shiko made sure no one saw her before sneaking out of the cell.
The door closed behind her as excitement nearly overwhelmed her. Shiko nearly squealed. Looking around again, she rushed to the small lab she had been given for her studies.
The lab itself once served as storage. It was where her lessons took place, from those commonly found in a high school to more interesting ones which delved into the anomalous. The small room was outfitted with a computer and desk against one wall and several tables with various pieces of equipment strewn about.
Shiko went to her computer first, pulling up the instructions on running a DNA test with what she had. She had done this once or twice before under Erickson's supervision before he passed, but it had been for some lessons.
A few clicks and the correct page was pulled up. "Extractions first. I already have this," She looked down at her sample, "So I need to isolate the DNA. So… Ah! That one." She read over the directions once more before going to the proper equipment.

/=/

"Having fun?" Shiko jumped, having been deep into the material she had been assigned today.
"Mr. Anders!" The man held out a small envelope, handing it to her. "This arrived earlier. Need that skill of yours to figure out what it says." Shiko eyed the letter inquisitively, curious as to its contents. Shiko took the note, facing back at her desk before opening it with Anders standing over her.
"What language is this? I don't recognize it."
Anders shrugged. "Dunno. That's why it was brought to you." With a nod, she read the letter.

Little Shiko. It has come to my attention that you and your associates have retrieved one of my creations.
Since you fancy yourself a researcher, let's play a game, shall we? If you can figure out who that failure was, I'll tell you a bit about myself.

Sincerely, A friend

"Wha…" Shiko read it over again just to be sure. "I… What."
"What is it?"
"It's addressed to me." Neither spoke for several moments.
Anders pulled his radio out, dialing it to one of his men. "Hawke."
"What can I do for you, sir?" Hawke's smooth voice rang.
Anders hesitated momentarily, "I need you and the boys to secure the area. We have a leak, and I want it found."
"Sir?"
"Someone knows about Shiko. No one outside this site besides Halo should have that knowledge. Start searching. Call Halo back if you need. Just find this leak."
"Aye." The radio went silent before bursting to life as the call went out to the rest of the team. Shiko slid further into her chair, anxiety welling as the facts sunk in.
"Are you-" Four beeps sounded from across the room. "Oh! The first step's finished!" Problems momentarily forgotten, she rushed over to her sample, double-checking the time before she moved on to the next step.
Anders observed for several long moments, "You're running a test? Which one is it?"
"I'm curious as to that yokai's genetic makeup. I got a sample when Mr. Reid went to get himself a new lab coat." She looked over her instructions once more, mumbling to herself. "Quantitation? Hmm. This one's going to take a while."
"You seem busy. I'll come back in a few hours. Someone will be by later to keep an eye on you."
"A'ight! See ya later!" Shiko barely looked toward the man as she figured out how to set up the next steps."

/=/

Three beeps sounded from behind. "Finally!" Shiko rushed over to her computer, clicking the notification that popped up. With a grin plastered on her face, she read over the results. Then she double-checked her reference guide. Her nose scrunched as she realized she had no idea how to read this.
A few moments passed before Shiko remembered she had access to documents that would help her. It took a few minutes of searching, but she quickly had a better idea of what she was looking at.
"Wait…" She looked between the example and her results a few times. "Weird…" Shiko pulled up another tab, putting the results she got into Foundation's DNA database. She wasn't supposed to be in there since there was a ton of stuff she wasn't supposed to see, but she did have provisionary Level 2 access, so hopefully, anyone who would see it just thought she was helping Reid.
Shiko tried to ignore what she had found. She still had homework to do for the day, and Reid would be angry if she didn't do it.

/=/

"Dad?" Shiko called, uncertainty clouding her thoughts.
A fond reply came from somewhere in the distance, "What is it, Shiko?" She went through the dojo, head down, as she made her way to her father.
"Shiko?" A rough yet wise voice inquired. "What is the matter, my child?" She looked up, gaze catching that of her father's.
Shiko took a few moments to try and collect her thoughts. "Did you know my parents?"
"What brought this about?" Her father stated, waving his hand to form a seating area. "You did not appear concerned before?"
A chortle escaped, Shiko leaning into her father for a bit of comfort. "That yokai Mr. Reid captured. I ran a test on it without him knowing. It… uh…" She took a deep breath, a cup of hot tea pressed into her hands. Shiko let out a short laugh.
"That test I ran? It was a DNA test." Her father didn't know what that was, but he was there to listen, not interrupt. "From what I found, the yokai is my biological parents. I don't even know how it's possible, but…" She found herself being held, drinking in the uncommon gesture.
"Do you wish to sit here, or would you prefer to learn about them?" Shiko perked up, having not expected her father to have an answer for her.
"You knew them?!" He chuckled, giving her a nod.
He took a few moments to collect his thoughts, "Your mother, Erin, came to me when she was only a little older than yourself. She was older than the orphans I usually took in, but I knew she needed help. She was terrified and needed a place to stay. I welcomed her into my dojo and began to teach her my arts. She was quiet and withdrawn but learned quickly. She was able to master my arts faster than either you or Katsuyori.
"You taught her? Did she ever open up? How did she meet her husband?" He chuckled.
"She did; it took nearly a year, though. The first thing she asked: if I knew of a yokai she had once seen. Interestingly enough, it was a Gaki, much like the one you and that researcher are investigating. As I listened to her story, I came to a few conclusions. First was that the Gaki she spoke of seemed to have a taste for living flesh. I believed it had eaten her parents, though Erin did not seem bothered by that. Secondly, I needed to protect her. To do that, I had two plans. I began to teach her more defensive arts to protect her. At the same time, I began to plan."
"Really? What was the plan?" Shiko interrupted.
He only chuckled at the interruption. "We will get there. But first, we need to get further in this story, my child." He sipped his tea, "It was around that time when a boy named Steve came into my care. He was a friendly lad who immediately latched onto Erin, even if she did not want him to. I often wondered how Steve had ended up on the streets, though I never found out. It turned out, after a time, that Steve was able to get Erin to open up to him. They got along well…
"You have something to do with that?"
"Later, I found out they liked each other, and I was even able to get them to leave for a while and go out for dinner. I needed time to think. You see, the night before, they encountered the Gaki, Erin had once described to me, as it was eating a dead animal. It was a danger to my students, so I had to do something."
"How'd you know what to do?" Shiko couldn't keep the curiosity from her voice.
Her father smiled as he answered, "I have seen a few in my time. Gaki are usually cursed by whatever sin they committed before they died. This one was no exception. I surmised that it was cursed due to cannibalistic tendencies. So, to free it, it needed more flesh. That city had several dungeons where bandits were kept, so I collected some to feed the Gaki. My plan worked, and my students were safe once again."
"Did they ever find out?"
"No." He paused, "They were more occupied by each other. So much so that I should have expected it when Erin requested to cut her training back. Later, I learned Erin was pregnant, and they had gotten 'engaged,' though I am still unsure what that means in this age. Regardless, I was happy for them. They invited me to their wedding. The customs of this century are much different from what I know, so I spent several days locating information about these things and was thoroughly prepared when the day came.
"What're those?"
Her father chuckled once more. "I was able to determine that it is the custom of these recent centuries to perform such rituals for two people to live together legally. I find it odd, as such a custom never existed before."
They sat silently for a moment before Shiko came up with her next question. "What happened then?"
"You were born." Her father had that soft expression he only got around her, "Though their happiness did not last. Erin was being stalked, though she was uncertain who it was. They were scared and asked that I take you in should something happen."
Several minutes passed between the two in silence. "It's clear you cared for them, Dad." Shiko began. "I'm going to figure out who did this and if they can be saved."
"You do not have to."
She smiled, finishing her tea. "I want to."

/=/

"Shiko!" She jumped, having been intent on studying the yokai Reid had submerged in water.
"Mr. Anders? What's up?" It was clear the commander was agitated. Anders only walked up to her, handing the teen a note.
She looked it over, "This…" She began. "It's the same as the last one."

Congratulations, Researcher.
You've solved the first clue. As your reward, I'll tell you this much. Your Foundation sites aren't nearly as secure as you think they are. It's easy for someone of my status to gain information.
Now, onto your next clue. You'll play along; I know you will. That gaki is on a mission for me. Can you figure out what it is?

Sincerely, A friend

"Someone's playing a game with me." Shiko shuffled where she was standing. "Whoever it is claimed to have sent the yokai."
"My boys didn't find anything to suggest a leak. Which means whoever this is, is incredibly dangerous. I don't know who it is, but we'll ensure you're safe." Anders promised.
Shiko laughed. "We both know there's very little that could hurt me here. Not with my dad watching." Anders took the last few steps towards the teen, laying his hand on her head before ruffling the dark mass.

/=/

"Hyuse. Where are you going?" Shiko froze at Reid's call.
She turned to the man, "To visit Kuro?" She began. "I'm sure he's got something useful about the skip you're working on." She swallowed hard.
Reid took his sweet time responding. "If it will keep you out of my way for a while. Take that overbearing soldier with you." Anders rounded the corner, grumbling.
"There you are." The grumbling continued, "If you're ready, we'll be leaving now." Shiko nodded happily, watching as Reid vanished further into the site.
"You're coming with me this time, Mr. Anders?"
"It's better than dealing with Reid's complaints."
Shiko's curiosity got the better of her as they entered the forest. "What's he complaining about this time?"
"Oh, the usual. Everyone here is incompetent, and he's the only one able to do anything correctly." Anders joked.
"He's been here for a couple of months now, and Dad won't even teach him," Shiko replied. "Dad's a pretty good judge of character, though, so there must be a reason."
Anders chuckled, "You know, my last posting wasn't nearly as chill as this one." He began. "Back then, we never had the time to do things like this. We never put so much trust in any skip, let alone letting them decide who gets access to other skips."
"This isn't normal?"
Anders smiled. "Nah." A fond expression found its way to his face. "Sometimes I forget that this place is all you know until you say stuff like that."
"That's not my fault!" Shiko pouted.
"I know." A chuckle followed, "Doesn't make it any less fun to tease you." The remark earned him a punch to the arm. The smile he wore never faltered.
"Why'd you really wanna come out here today? I know you wouldn't come out here unless it were important."
Shiko looked to the ground, considering her answer. "I need to speak with Kuro. He might have some answers for me." She knew Anders would ask for more than that, so she added, "That yokai Mr. Reid is working on. My tests indicated that, genetically, it's related to me."
Anders was quiet for a long while. Shiko didn't bother speaking to fill the silence as the pair went deeper into the forest to the estate hidden within.
It wasn't until the estate was in sight that Anders spoke up. "This is clearly bothering you. Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Thanks." Shiko almost managed a smile. "But I'll be alright. I just need to figure out this mystery first."
"If you say so." Anders wasn't convinced, "Come on. I'm sure Kuro already knows we're here." The winged yokai appeared in the courtyard, greeting the pair as if on cue.
"Ah!" The bird man stated, "I was wondering when you Hunters were going to stop by again!"
Shiko found a smile again, rushing to greet the yokai. "Kuro!"
"Hello, little Hunter. Do you come for more knowledge?" Shiko nodded excitedly at the inquiry. "What is it you seek today?"
"A new yokai appeared recently." Shiko began, following Kuro into the estate. "Dad mentioned that he believed it to be a Gaki."
"Do you know if it resembled that of our people or the Hinduist-Buddhist Preta we occasionally saw?"
Shiko thought about it. "I'm not sure, though I can describe it if it helps?" Kuro nodded, "It was a couple of feet tall and had this tiny mouth. Its neck was the thickness of, like, two fingers, and it had a distended belly."
Kuro considered everything for a few moments. "That sounds closer to the Nihon representation. Is there anything else you know about it?" They entered the document storage, Kuro walking over to sort through the various scrolls.
"Someone made it." Kuro froze, "I don't know who it is, but someone's been sending me letters. Apparently, they've sent the yokai for some unknown reason for this game they're playing."
Kuro turned back to Shiko. "Shiko." It wasn't often she heard her name from the yokai before her. "This is very important. I need you to tell me everything you know about this person."
Unnerved, she replied. "We don't know much. They sign their letters as 'a friend', claim to have made the Gaki we have, and they have a weird obsession with me specifically since they were able to locate me."
Kuro's expression turned dark, but he didn't reply. Instead, he chose to go back through sorting through the documents. Shiko could hear various mutterings, though she knew better than to disturb the man when he was like this.
She patiently waited until Kuro was ready to speak with her again. "Here," He handed her two documents. "This is everything we have on Gaki. It's not a yokai we encountered very often."
"It's alright," Shiko stated. "You've still got more information than us, so everything you give us is useful." She turned to leave, waving the man farewell.
"Little Hunter." She turned back, "Tell your father I need to see him when he gets a moment." Shiko nodded, heading out to rejoin Anders.

/=/

"Getting anywhere?" Anders inquired, startling the teen who was hunched over the ancient documents.
"I think?" Shiko stretched, joints popping after such a string of immobility. "With the extra couple I got from Kuro, I think I've got most of the picture."
Anders smiled, pulling up an empty crate to sit next to her. "Oh? What would that be?"
"It starts with the basics," Shiko explained, rereading her notes so she could relay the correct information. "It seems like the legends have a pretty good grasp on Gaki. They're spirits with everlasting hunger, which are generally cursed before dying. This existence is, apparently, a punishment for them. But I don't think this is how the one we have was created. Here, I've written down what I've found so far."
Anders looked over the notes, thoughtfulness filling his expression as he looked over each one.

If I understand this all correctly, it's possible to purify a Gaki, given the proper steps. This would let the spirit be in peace, and it would disappear from our reality. It has something to do with eating 'the lord's weight' of whatever item is deemed necessary by the conditions of the curse. I don't know how we would be able to find that out, but I think it could be possible. It would be interesting to study.
Since this yokai can be created with a curse, I wonder if it would be possible to create one ourselves. Surely we could look into how these things are made. The Foundation would love to know that. Maybe I can press Kuro for more details?

Kuro located another document for me, though this one's weird. It's written in something resembling chicken scratch, and half of it doesn't make sense. There's something about wanting to be saved and three pages of nonsensical ramblings.
I might be mistaken, but there seems to be a hidden message here. I can't tell what it is yet, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. Something about it makes me nervous, though. I wish I knew what it was.

It took me nearly a week, but I discovered the secret of these pages.
Whoever wrote these detailed the process of creating a gaki, part of the process is knowing how it's done, so I guess it puts me at risk.
From what I saw, you need someone with magick who can solidify a curse on someone's soul. Apparently, a typical curse won't work 'cause they can sometimes vanish after several years. But once you've got your curse, you must ensure the person dies from choking on something. That something is then the thing the gaki will crave but never be able to find.
It's that something that can break the curse. If a gaki can eat something like 60+ kilograms of whatever killed them, it'll break their curse, and their spirit can be at peace. I wonder if I can figure out what killed this one.

"I'm impressed you managed to figure this all out on your own." Anders praised, "You really do have the makings of a damn fine researcher." Shiko's flushed cheeks betrayed her; she wasn't used to compliments.
Anders took pity on the teen, "We generally don't deal with neutralizations. The Foundation's generally against it, but I think it would be good to add this to the Skip's file just in case." Then, before Shiko could speak up, "Don't worry, I'll make sure Reid adds it. This is important enough that he'd be stupid to ignore it."
He got up to leave, a smile on his face, only to be stopped before he could reach the door. "Mr. Anders?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think we could try to figure out what it is this one needs?" Her uncertainty betrayed her. "It's just… Knowing what I do, I don't want them to suffer, ya know?"
He looked at her fondly, "I get ya, I really do. But knowing these things and living with them is part of the job. Chances are, sometime in the next couple of years, you'll be given an opportunity. You'll have to choose which world you want to live in, and when you choose this one, you'll have to be prepared for the knowledge that people, animals, and things are all suffering, and there's little you can do about it." Then, "I know it's hard right now, and it really doesn't get easier. You'll get better at managing that feeling as you grow, Shiko. It's not a bad thing, ya know? Having those feelings means you're still human, and that's good."
Shiko looked at her lap, where her hands were fiddling with themselves. She stayed silent, contemplating the feeling growing and knotting in her chest. She hadn't really thought about the future much, not with how she basically had it laid out before her.
"Oh, before I go, another note arrived. You'd better take a look." She nodded, not entirely paying attention as Anders left it on her desk before leaving.
It was a while longer before Shiko remembered the note. She grabbed it from where Anders had placed it on the edge of her desk, reading it once she was able to focus on the words.

Time's up, little researcher. It's too bad you couldn't figure out its mission.
But it's alright, Shiko. I like you, so I'll let you know anyway. That Gaki was sent to track you down. You see, I plan to make this world strong once more. The world has grown weak; people no longer fear those who go bump in the night, and so they grow complacent. I will give them this reason. And you, my dear? You are a mystery to me. I sent the Gaki to test you. I need to know what you're made of. If that means getting my hands dirty, then so be it.
I don't play with lives, Shiko; I enhance them.

Sincerely, A friend

/=/

Shiko glanced at the clock in the observation room. 02:43. She knew she would get in trouble for this once someone else found out about it, but she needed to know. She looked down at the control pad, finding the correct buttons to drain the cell before her.
Something beeped, asking for a security code. Shiko provided Reid's. It didn't matter how she got it; it was just another thing she would be punished for later.
She watched as the water drained, glancing over to the pile of trash she had brought. It would be enough to satisfy it for a few minutes. It took longer than she would have liked, but she didn't care. She knew she had probably set off the silent alarm. She needed to do this.
Finally, the cell was empty. The Gaki within flickering until it caught sight of her. Shiko sighed, entering the cell with her bag of garbage. The Gaki met her near the door as the offering of trash was presented. It dragged the bag a few feet away before tearing into it, never taking its gaze fully off Shiko.
"I'll get in trouble tomorrow since Mr. Anders is always on me about the dangers of skips, but you don't seem dangerous. And I know you don't want to eat people. And Dad always says that yokai are generally peaceful." She looked to the ground, "I'm going to try to save you. I think you deserve that much." The Gaki stopped and stared at her, cocking its head.
"If only I knew what killed you, I could figure it out…" Shuffling was heard from near Shiko, coming from the Gaki before her. It seemed to be looking through the bag. It stopped after a moment. Shiko could have sworn the creature looked disheartened.
A few moments passed in contemplation. "Were you trying to find the thing that killed you?" Its actions grew a bit faster as it ate a few more pieces of trash. "If I bring you a variety of things, do you think you'd be able to show me what you're looking for?" The Gaki sped up again, then froze.
"Shiko," Anders' voice called from behind, "What are you doing here at three in the morning?" A yawn escaped him.
"I… Needed to speak with this yokai. I thought it could give me some answers."
A groan mixed into the words he spoke next. "You set off the alarm and woke me up at three in the morning for that? You couldn't have waited until morning? And what did I tell you about getting close to Skips?
"I know." Shiko began, "I should have waited, but it was eating at me. I'm sorry for waking you." Anders didn't respond, only dragging her out of the cell and back into the observation room. Shiko watched as it greedily finished off the remaining trash before waddling over to the observation window.
Anders hit the controls to refill the tank, but Shiko wasn't paying attention to him. She was more interested in the creature before her who appeared to be mouthing the word 'save.' Anders either didn't care or didn't notice as he grumbled about getting back to bed. She was willing to bet it was the former.

/=/

Shiko stared at her screen in annoyance. She knew she would be punished for her actions, but she felt revoking her researcher privileges was a bit much, doubly so, since she was one of the only ways for them to get any information on the Yokai Hunters.
Shiko grumbled to herself, ignoring the man entering the room until he was right in front of her.
"Why'd you do it? You knew what would happen." Anders was disappointed, yes, but not angry. The disappointment stung more, though.
"I already told you." She looked away, not really wanting to see his face at the moment.
He sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Shi." She looked at him, surprised at the use of her nickname. "Do you understand what you did was wrong?"
"I know I could have been killed or worse. I know that I could have put the rest of you in danger. I'm not helpless, though; I wouldn't have done it if I thought it had a chance to go badly."
Another sigh, "I know you know the dangers." His gaze only turned up the disappointment. "Are you going to do it again?" Shiko shook her head.
"'m sorry…" Came her mumbled apology.
"Hey. Cheer up a bit, Shi." Anders' tone changed to something softer, "Kuro asked to meet with you. Reid approved it, assuming someone keeps an eye on you."
"He's not mad?"
Anders laughed. "Reid's pissed. Enough that he wanted you thrown out." Shiko shrunk into her seat. "I convinced him we wouldn't be able to fulfill our primary purpose without you. And, well, we all know Sensei would leave if Reid actually got that approved."
Shiko smiled, getting up to follow the man out into the woods. Before they could get anywhere, they were interrupted by a short, stout man bursting into the room.
"Sir!" Tethras stated, handing the commander a slip of paper, then departing. Anders looked it over for a moment before passing it off to Shiko.
"Another note?" The inquiry didn't receive a response.

You've been quite the amusing little researcher, Shi. I'll let you in on a secret for the fun you've given me.
I believe you're already aware that yokai are coming back to life, yes? Would you believe that I'm the one responsible? If you could just locate me, you would be able to solve so many problems, don't you think?
I have my goals, little researcher. But you'll have to figure them out yourself. I just want the world to be peaceful again.

Sincerely, A friend

"I think they're taunting us?" Shiko stated, uncertain.
After a few moments, the silence was broken again: "What did Kuro want?"
"Dunno. Only that he seemed rather insistent." She nodded, following Anders out the door and into the forest.

/=/

"Little Hunter! You are alright!" Kuro rushed up to her, more than a little concern pouring off him.
"Kuro? What's wrong? Why's Dad here?" Shiko looked around in confusion.
Her father spoke first. "There is something important we must speak of."
"Listen," Kuro began, motioning for the group to take a seat, "Your father and I know who is doing this."
Several cups of steaming tea were produced at that moment, "What? And you didn't tell me before?"
"I need you to understand. While our Hunters were different from yours, our goals are the same. Our methods are similar." Kuro took a deep breath, looking for all the worlds that he would rather be doing anything else. "The man who has been sending you those letters, the one who has been bringing yokai back to life. We called him Aka."
Shiko knew that name. "You mean from the Hunter's leading council? The one that you formed to help lead them? Why?"
"I… Do not know." Kuro seemed saddened, "We used to be close, but I suspect he was using me to further his goals. He left some time before Ishiyama died." Shiko looked at her father, who was visibly saddened.
The old master was the one who spoke next. "We do not know what he wants. He is dangerous, and he will eliminate anything in his path." He took a moment before his following sentence, "We do not know what he wants with you. However, I suspect that it has to do with your magick. Should he be like us, he will not be able to read the language used in this age."
"I dunno if that's true," Shiko began cautiously, "but he's been testing me for a while now. Clearly, he wants something we haven't pieced together yet."
Anders spoke next. "Well, while we figure it out, I'll make sure Shi stays safe. And if that fails, Sensei and I will have a backup plan." Shiko only realized she was tense after she began to relax. An anxious chuckle escaped as the group began to murmur among themselves.
None of them had any idea of what truly awaited them; none knew of the plans crafted by their one-time friend. Not a single person would imagine what the next few years would bring to the small site in the Japanese wilderness.

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Yokai Hunters

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