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in mold blood

Summary:

facts about mold:
1. eating even a small amount of it can lead to health complications, depending on the type of mold.
2. some mold spores can cause just as many issues breathing them in.
3. mold is one of the only organisms that doesn’t need light to grow, meaning it thrives in dark, wet areas.

or: something is killing everyone who sets foot in the woods. techno has a feeling it might have something to do with the old, rotten house in the middle of it.

Notes:

Vamp AU (dark): phil, a super old vampire, finding techno (a human) alone and being like "oh. mine????" techno doesn't agree but gets adopted anyways

 

hi and for the love hello. writing this fic has been a fever dream. well. here i am, after a frantic like, 40 hours. it's been written, and ive beaten my record of words in 48hrs!!

nain, i hope you like it. got a bit more niki than i expected, apologies for that, but i hope the rest fits the bill.

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There's this old unspoken rule in Techno's town that everyone's followed for as long as he's lived there: don't be alone after dark. If you have to be alone, do it smartly. Don't go to the woods, less you've got a death wish.

It's not like the towns known for having a lot of dead people turn up all the time, nah, people are smarter than that, it's more that it used to.

Techno's not old enough to remember when it was bad, he was maybe six or seven when it started slowing down. The kids today just think it's an urban legend, probably, the only reason he doesn't is because he used to hang out with the older kids who actually saw their friends get killed on a dare or some stupid stuff like that.

You know, there's a lot you could say about Techno. He used to have a reputation in high school for fighting anyone who'd asked, and even though it's been nearly fifteen years since, people haven't really let it go. He knows why, he's a big tall man, but hey, he's found better ways since, he punches people in a ring now, with rules and all. You could also remember the way he never really could let go of a dare, when all you had to do was call him chicken to get him to do anything.

He's grown out of it. Techno is a grown man, with a job and a dog and a nice apartment that has a whole wall dedicated to books, and you can't just do that anymore.

But well.

Kids will be kids, and kids will be stupid, and someone has to go make sure they don't get eaten by a bear tonight. Because no ones turned up dead for, like, five years, and they've decided that means it's time to get the counter back to zero.

Techno doesn't fancy himself anything but a guy with a shotgun and a machete. Plenty of men have gone into the woods before, going to hunt the bear or wolf or weirdo that's killing anyone coming in, and you might be surprised to hear they didn't come out either. Mostly. Either that, or they came out after hitting their head or inhaling some weird mushroom spores, talking about monsters and all.

He likes to think he's got an edge, that he should be able to tell a hallucination from the real thing. He's got years of practice ignoring the voices at the back of his head and the occasional shadow in the corner of his eye.

Maybe he should be worried anyway. He doesn't know what he's doing, barely knows how to shoot the gun, but he's not. Technoblade never dies, the kids in school used to say, and the phrase sounds kinda dumb now, but it still rings true enough to his ear.

Techno does consider himself meticulous. He's a planner, at his core, and he's never picked a fight he knew he couldn't win. That still holds true today, though he has no idea what he's up against.

The machete is sharp. He's never really done more than cut wood with it, but he doesn't think he'll need to do much more than aim for the head and hope for the best. The shotgun is loaded, and Techno's spent the last twelve hours learning its workings inside and out, with his eyes opened and closed. He's not sure how useful that is, but he's heard that's what people do to get familiar with their guns. Or he saw it in a movie, he's not entirely sure. He's learned a lot about how a gun’s built, anyway.

He's about to break the three rules. He's about to be alone after dark and head right for the forest, which is about the dumbest thing you could do.

He'll be fine.

With a bag slung over his shoulder, Techno heads out of his apartment and right onto the dark, empty streets. He hopes if he doesn't show up again, Niki'll be nice enough to take Floof in and take care of her for him. He'd hate to leave his dog to starve.

He shakes his hands out before he steps past the tree line. A little nervousness is good, it's what keeps you alive, but he needs to be focused.

The shotgun comes with a strap, which is pretty convenient, because it allows him to hold the machete as well. He won't lie, he'd rather get to use that than the gun, but mostly he'd like to come home alive.

It's funny. The forest is there, with trails and all, and no one ever comes through. There's no trash, no sign of life the deeper Techno goes, only billowing trees and small paths that he's not sure were even made on purpose. It’d be beautiful and overall pretty cool if it didn't also really drive home the creepy factor of it all.

Something moves behind him, with a loud crack, and Techno turns, machete gripped tight and held high.

There is nothing there but a squirrel.

Techno snorts.

Forests will be forests, he supposes, there's no silence here. Better he get used to it now, because this is how he's spending his night.

He doesn't even know where to start. If he has to search every nook and cranny, he'll be here for ages. The town should have reasonably sent a search party, honestly, but no one really wanted to take the risk leading them, and there was only Techno left. One of the kids' brother, too, but better to not have one more dead kid, so he's on his own.

He reaches a ravine. He leans forward and looks at it for a second. "Anyone down there?" he calls, and does not expect an answer. Which is good because he gets none.

Techno moves forward. There's nothing else for him to do. Move forward and make sure that he's not stepping on someone's body by accident. That'd be– he shudders thinking about it, the noise it’d make. Yeah, he's avoiding that at all costs.

He's not entirely sure how long he walks for. In the night, there's no real indication of time passing based on the light, or at least none that he can recognize. He gets bored, and he gets through reciting his favorite album in his head twice, and he's honestly almost entirely lost by that point, but thank god for Google. It's a lot less eventful than what he would have expected, honestly.

Until he reaches the clearing.

Techno wasn't told about it. You'd think with kids missing you'd look into the weird house in the middle of the woods, but no one had even mentioned it, and like, come on, at least the police had to know about it.

He gives a low whistle because the house is massive. It's not a mansion, but it might qualify as a manor. Techno's not entirely sure what the difference is but he's pretty sure manors are smaller but still stupid big. He's talking like, north wing, two stories tall big, not normal white picket fence with a side of trust fun big.

It's also entirely abandoned, from what he can tell. There's ivy growing on the walls in a way that can't be structurally sound, and there's a couple of broken windows when he looks up.

Probably because it's been broken into. There's nothing that would break a two stories window that's not human or a branch, and the areas not really known for its strong winds.

Techno gets to the door. There’s not much else to do, in a situation where you stand in front of a weird house, he feels. Just for good measure, he gives it a knock, in case people are squatting and going to kick his face in for trespassing.

When he doesn't get an answer, he opens the door and slips his head in. “Hullo,” he says, and hopes that if someone's here they’ll hear. “I'm gonna come in, don’t kill me, I'm just a guy.”

This feels like the start of a horror movie. Techno hasn’t seen much, he’s not very into horror as a genre, but he’s seen enough parodies to know. He’s going to end up getting killed by a chainsaw killer, and no one is going to find his body for ages.

Or maybe he’ll put the years of brawling with random people to good use and get the upper hand. People never really seem to fight back that much in horror movies.

He ends up having to do none of that because the house is empty.

The only thing that he meets when walking around, even in the higher floors, is silence, and a couple of rats. It’s pretty much to be expected, he feels like. There’s mold on the walls and under the wallpaper, and overall he doesn’t feel like anyone would live here, but it’s also more decent than he thought it would be.

The kids aren’t here, though, so he moves on.

The stairs creak under his feet as he does. He tests all the steps before putting his weight on them, and they all feel okay, but it’s not reassuring to feel the wood give ever so slightly. It feels almost like the house is hollow, or rotting or something, wood shouldn’t flex that easily.

Techno’s hand closes on his machete, the knuckles on his hand turning white. He doesn’t like this, as irrational as it is, he feels like there’s… something wrong. He doesn’t know what exactly, but he doesn’t want to be in the house anymore.

Which is probably the reason why he notices the door under the stairs exactly as he comes down, because his luck has always been terrible, and there’s no way he’s abandoning the slight chance that the kids are in there. He doesn’t think they are, but he doesn’t think that he could live with himself if he misses this.

Techno adjusted his grip on his machete, and keeps his other hand on the shotgun, ready to tug on the strap and shoot if he needs to.

There’s anticipation building under his skin. He jumps up and down a couple of times before he opens the door to get a little more settled. It doesn’t do much, but it does get him in the spirit of the potential fight, so he’ll take it. Better than getting surprised by a bear. Underground. What is he doing?

The basement is dark. That’s to be expected, since there are no windows for the light to come in through, so he makes good use of the torch he brought.

“Hullo?” he calls again.

There's a soft chitter, and Techno’s shoulders drop, tension releasing slightly. He’s bothering a family of raccoons, or possums, or something.

He sweeps the torch anyway, just to make sure, just in case, and the basement is empty. There’s a dark stain on the wall, nearly black even in the light, and some old shelves and jars that Techno has no interest in looking into. It looks about what he could expect from the basement of an abandoned house, he won’t lie.

There’s a pair of eyes shining in the corner when he flashes his torch on it, and Techno is only maybe 30 percent sure they’re not real.

They’re also too high to be a dog’s or a wolf, so there's that.

Techno does what he does every time that he sees something strange. He looks away, takes a breath, and ignores it until it eventually either goes away or tries to attack him. It’s a policy that has kept him from fighting his wall multiple time, so it seems about right.

He backs away from the corner, and climbs back up the stairs as calmly as he reasonably could and then he keeps walking away from the house as a whole.

It’s fine.

Everything’s fine, and he gets away fine. Nothing happens, and the hair on the back of his neck is raised in a way that he’s never felt before. He doesn't like this. For the first time that night, he really curses his inability to stay out of things.

Techno doesn’t run away from the house. He’s a grown man, he speedwalks away with all the dignity that comes with it.

He can’t help the way he turns around every time there’s a crack behind him.

There’s–

He’s used to the feeling of feeling watched, he tells himself. He’s used to it, because it comes with his particular brand of brain weirdness. It’s nothing he hasn’t gone through before, it’s fine, it’s just kind of inconvenient for it to happen in the middle of creepy woods, he’ll be fine.

He hears a thud behind him, and Techno acts before he thinks, aiming right at where the face of a human attacker would be, like he had so many times before.

The machete makes contact with something, and there’s a cry that doesn’t sound like anything Techno’s heard before, and then he’s running. He might be a fighter, but he’s smart enough to know that when something’s after you, sometimes, the best idea is not to check whether you’ve really taken it out before you take off.

Issue is this: Techno has no idea where he is.

He only realizes this when he finds himself on the other side of the clearing, the other side of the house.

There’s nothing waiting for him there.

He doesn’t know what he expected, but it still surprises him, the fact that there isn’t something there, the same thing that attacked him. He doesn't– there's nothing, and it’s logical, because there’s no blood on his machete either, he’s checked, but it doesn’t–

He breathes.

He presses the heels of his hand to his temple, trying to quiet the whispers that have been getting stronger. “Shut up,” he says under his breath. He doesn’t need the distraction. They’ve been barely in the background so far, he doesn’t need them to act up now. He knows he’s getting tired, and he knows that he’s getting upset, but he needs to focus.

“That’s not nice.”

Techno whips around, then curses himself for it.

There’s only empty space.

Empty space, and shining eyes in the shadows.

Techno needs to go home, he’s helping nobody like this. He needs to sleep, have a nice, routine morning, and chill out for a bit.

He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. He’s doing that. He hasn’t found the kids, and he doubts he will tonight. He’s done his best, and he’ll try again tomorrow, probably, if they haven’t turned up and if no one is doing anything about it.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s nose to nose with those same shining eyes.

He nearly falls backwards, but catches himself before he fully loses his balance. He takes, like, twelve steps back and tugs onto his shotgun, aiming right at the man’s chest.

Because it is a man. Or at least close to that, if it wasn’t for the shining eyes that were black where they should be black, and the way that he didn’t– the man wasn’t right. He looked like something out of Techno’s nightmares.

He took a step forward, and only Techno’s unwillingness to go to jail kept him for pulling the trigger.

The man put his hands up and smiled. It tried to look friendly, Techno was aware of that in a part of his mind, but it didn’t. Like– those robots that looked almost human but eventually didn’t and just looked terrifying again. There’s something off about that smile, and Techno finds himself unable to look away.

“Hey mate. I don’t get visitors often,” the man says.

Techno nods. A little inanely, he replies, too, as if there’s nothing wrong with the situation at all. His voice feels far away from him, like he’s not really the one saying the words. “Didn’t know you lived here. Lookin’ for kids, y’know, got dared to go in the woods, got lost.”

The man’s smile gets wider, and sharper. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

Techno’s throat is dry, and he wets his lips. It doesn’t help the fear, and it doesn’t help him run away either. He’s still holding the shotgun, but he doesn’t think he could pull the trigger if he could.

The man hums. “It’s dangerous in the forest on your own,” he says.

Techno nods. “I know. ‘S why I’ve got the gun and the knife.” even though he thought he’d meet a bunch of wild animals, maybe a couple of deer, and find the kids dead with their necks broken in a ditch.

“Well now,” the man says. He turns away from Techno, though he’s still holding the gun. “I wouldn’t be a very good host to make you run back home in the dark like that, would I?”

Everything in him screams to say no. he’s a logical man. He’s not insane, he’s got a good head on his shoulder. He’s got a job, he’s got a life, he’s had those for over ten years, he’s not–

He agrees. He doesn’t mean to, but like the words that were pulled from his throat earlier, he puts the gun away twelve feet away from his body, and he nods, as if it’s a logical thing to do. As if he’s not going to get killed in his sleep tonight, as surely as anything.

The man seems pleased, and only gestures at Techno to follow him.

He’s short. Techno’s tall, granted, but the man reaches his shoulder at most, maybe, a bit under 5’5. He’s got long blond hair, and a cardigan, and if Techno hadn’t seen his face and felt how wrong he felt, he’d have thought he was just another guy. He looks it, from the back. But from the back only, and every time Techno gets a glimpse of that smile or those eyes, his knuckles turn white around the machete.

But he doesn’t do anything. Against his best judgement, he doesn’t do anything, and he leaves his shoes at the door when the man asks him to.

The floor is cold and slightly damp. His socks are going to be stained with mold. The man doesn’t seem bothered at all, going barefoot on the floorboards, ahead of Techno.

“Now, mate, I haven’t prepared a guest room, I wasn’t expecting you, I hope you don’t mind.”

Techno clears his throat. “It’s fine. Didn’t really announce myself.”

“Nonsense.” he turns and gives Techno a grin. It takes everything in him, and probably a little more, to keep him from running. He’s frozen anyway, kept following in the man's footsteps no matter what he does. “You’re a welcome surprise.”

Techno nods a little. What do you say to that? What do you do in his situation? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t think google will have an answer, so he doesn’t even try to get his phone out of his pocket.

The man leads him to a small living room hidden in the back of a closet. Techno would have never thought of checking there, and he has to wonder how much of the house he’s missed when going around the first time.

It looks more lived in, if anything in this house can. The couch is only cold, not wet when Techno sits on it, and there’s only one visible stain on the wall, half hidden behind a painting.

“How do you take your tea?”

Techno nearly chokes on a baffled laugh. He has to blink and gather himself before he can answer, to the amusement of the voices in his head, laughing in the background. “With sugar if you’ve got it. Nothin’ if not.”

It’s not a normal evening. It’s nowhere near the realm of normal, and Techno is very aware of that fact, but the man seems entirely unaware, because he waltzes out of the room, like nothing is wrong.

Techno could leave. He could stand up, and get out of the house now, through the door he came in and out.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t even really try, doesn’t stand up, doesn’t go for it. He sits, listless, on the couch, until the man comes back with a tray in hand and cups of tea.

The cups themselves look old. Older than anything Techno’s seen not through a glass case before. They’ve got to be antiques, and Techno has to wonder why they’re in this house in the middle of the goddamn woods.

The voices in Techno’s head don’t like that one. They never like it when he swears, even in the privacy of his own mind, and they’re always a headache when he does, so he finds it easier to avoid it altogether. But it’s justified, because he’s had a really, really long night, and he’s about ready for it to be over, has been for the past half hour, and yet there he is. There he is.

The man sits in the armchair across from the couch, that same unsettling mile on his lips, and sets the tray down between them.

He looks at Techno expectantly, and like a puppet, Techno reaches for the cup.

There could be anything in there. Poison. Rot. Drugs to get him to be nice and quiet and not fight back when the man tries to kill him because come on, this is a serial killer setup. He doesn’t look old enough to be who’s killed before, but he might be a copycat, or a descendant or something. Techno’s not sure how the whole serial killer thing works, he’ll be honest, he’s never looked into it.

He drinks it anyway. It’s bitter and over steeped, and the sugar doesn’t taste right, but Techno drinks it, and the man looks pleased, and a pressure releases in the back of his head ever so slightly.

Techno rubs his neck. His hair is still raised, but he’s not as scared anymore. The man could have killed him already, but he hasn’t yet, that has to speak for something. Good faith attempt at being welcoming, maybe.

“I'm Techno,” he says, and extends a hand.

The man takes it. His hand is so cold it feels like it's sucking the warmth away from Techno the longer it goes. “That's a nice name,” he replies, and doesn’t offer his back.

Techno sips his tea.

The man just observes him. His head is tilted to the side a little, like a bird, and Techno doesn’t squirm. He’s just a little weird. Techno’s been called weird, the man hasn’t tried to hurt him yet. Maybe he’s just strange and unusual, all that.

He picks up his cup, and Techno can see teeth that are way too sharp and way too long, and just like that, something snaps.

He stands up, the cup clattering to the ground, and bolts.

Techno thinks of the fact that you should never run if a predator is chasing you, that it will only tell the predator to start running after you. He thinks of that, and he thinks of shining eyes and too long teeth, and he runs anyway, because he’d rather die running than waiting for it to come.

The man doesn’t follow.

Techno runs, and he runs until he can’t see the clearing at all, and then he runs some more. The forest is as cold as it was before, as lonely and all, but–

It’s funny how you don’t really notice silence until there’s noise again to break it.

Near the house, the forest had been silent. Not a single rustle of a leaf, not a single skittering of an animal or other, complete and utter silence, like life was avoiding it at all cost. Even the mice and rats had seemed– Techno only saw them, didn’t hear chittering or running.

He grips the machete tight and pointedly stays on his feet because he needs– he needs to be out of the forest yesterday.

He reaches the trail not long after. He still has no idea where he is, but he follows the marks on the trees, and eventually finds himself led back to the treeline, and to the town.

It had no right making him feel as relieved as it does.

He’s not really a materialist. He thinks stuff’s nice and all, and he’s not above treating himself to a cool item or other from time to time, but he doesn’t consider it to be all that important. Never has he felt so strongly for his apartment as he does now, standing at the door with a machete still in hand and a gun over his shoulder.

His toes wiggle in his socks. He left his shoes at the house. And they’re going to stay there, because there's no way he’s going back to get them.

His head hurts.

Techno stumbles back home. Adrenaline crash sure is something. He’s never liked it, and he doesn’t like it now, the way his hands shake, the way that he can’t help the shivers going through him even as he presses himself close enough to the heater for it to burn ever so slightly. He’s fine. He’s alive, and that’s honestly better than most people who’ve done the same as him, so he’s feeling pretty good about himself.

He swallows, and tastes the weird sugar in the back of his mouth, and he has to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he throws himself into a panic.

That was weird. That was really weird, and he– he’s here. He’s back home. There’s a bed waiting for him that he’s going to take every advantage of, and when he gets steady enough to get himself up, he’s going to grab the softest sweater he owns and pass out until late in the morning.

He won’t have good news to give the families and he’s not looking forward to telling them there’s no sign of their children but a weird man in the woods.

He inhales shakily.

He pushes himself up, gripping the wall.

Techno’s a rational man.

He makes a pit stop to the living room to grab his machete before he goes to sleep. He doesn't know how fast he’ll react if anything happen, but at least he’ll have something on hand if he does.

He’s still cold.

Techno puts on two sweaters for his trouble.

One is worn, almost to the thread. He’s had it since maybe sophomore year of high school, and there’s no way it would still fit him if it wasn’t so distended from the time and the wear. The other is a soft thing, plush, and made for sleeping in. it’s warm enough that he doesn’t need to turn the heating up all the way in the winter.

He buries his nose in the soft fabric and curls up on his bed, cocooned in his comforter like a kid. He’s a grown man, sure, and he’s currently holding a very sharp machete, but he also– he needs a moment to be not that and breathe.

Sleeps finds him easily. People always say that they can’t sleep when they’re anxious, but the truth is, fear exhausts Techno more surely than anything else, and he’s asleep within seconds of his head touching the pillow.

He doesn’t dream. In general, that’s not a thing he does. Sometimes he gets feelings before waking up, all that, but never the bright, vivid images and stories people talk about.

In all the ways that matter, he wakes up in the same way as he would any weekend.

He goes through the routine. He gets out of bed, brushes his teeth, takes his med, then goes take breakfast because he doesn’t want to throw them back up.

He only stops in his tracks when he’s had half a bowl of cereals, the taste reminding him of the sugar from before, and everything comes crashing into him at once. Techno pushes the bowl away, his throat suddenly tight. He was. He was about to just let the man do whatever, back there, and that’s maybe what scares him the most.

Techno’s sort of used to not having full control of his mind. He wouldn’t call the voices anything but what they are, hallucinations that are annoying but eventually harmless, but they sure do exist, and they used to be way worse than they are now.

It’s still nothing like last night.

He doesn't. He doesn’t think he could have left or fought back before the fear broke through. He thinks he would have let the man do whatever he’d wanted to him and would have been trapped in his mind watching him do it.

It terrifies him maybe more than anything else.

He drags himself to the city center anyway.

It’s a small town that he lives in. not small enough that he knows everyone, but enough that people have usually heard of him by name, just like he’s heard of everyone. All the people that look at him now are friends of friends, or cousins, or ex fiancées twice removed, and they’re all expecting something from him. It’d probably be worse if he wasn’t used to it by now.

He carries on. The only people he owes anything to are the parents he said he’d look for their children for.

Techno’s never been good at talking to people, and he’s gonna have to tell them that their kids are probably dead, he realizes. He’s going to need to tell them that they’ve probably been– whatever the man was planning on doing to him. Or that they might have gotten unlucky and gotten killed by something normal. Or that they’ll turn up, but that Techno really doesn’t know where to even start looking.

He looks at the trees past the small house – he remembers the son was dumb, but it was also in middle school, he doesn’t hold a grudge – and the hair on his neck raises like he’s being watched again. He shakes it off, but doesn’t tear his eyes away until he’s sure he can see nothing shining back at him.

There’s an empty seat for him where there always is in Niki’s coffee shop.

Just as well, there’s his usual on his table about five minutes later, and Niki sitting across of him.

She knows the brother that wanted to come. They’re friends, she told Techno before. She wants news almost as badly as the brother does himself.

Techno takes a sip and lets the taste of coffee settle him for a second before he speaks.

“Didn’t find him,” he admits, eventually.

Niki’s shoulders slump. She nods, and she keeps her chin up. “Thank you for looking.”

Techno takes another sip. “I found a house,” he says, because Niki might be the only person he can tell about this and hopefully feel less like he’s losing his mind once and for all.

“They weren’t in it?”

He shakes his head. “There was a guy. Blond. Creepy, I– I dunno what it was, but it made my hair raise and all, it was weird.”

Niki stiffened. “He didn’t hurt you? You’re okay?” her eyes flit over him, giving him a look over. “Stand up.” Techno does. She stands up with him and gestures at him to turn around. He does, and when he faces her again, she nods. He sits back down.

“Didn’t hurt me,” he says. “Offered tea.”

“Did you take it?” there’s a slight urgency in her tone.

Techno nods. “Didn’t really feel like it had a choice. It was weird. Got my machete on and all, but didn’t use it or try to get away till I was in his living room all cozy.”

Niki sucks in a sharp breath. “Techno–”

“I'm okay.” he knows that she’s worried, and he knows that she at least knew the little brother somewhat, he’d be on edge too, but he’s alright. He's spooked, and he doesn’t think he’s going back to the forest anytime, but he’s fine. He’s okay.

She takes a deep breath, and straightens her back before she looks at him again. “You’re not going back, right?”

Techno takes a sip of his tea, and nods. “I'm not going back.”

Only then does she seem to relax at all, and gives him a small smile. Her face is tight, and Techno wishes he had better news to give her just to see it go away.

They sit in comfortable silence, Niki laying her head in her arms after a moment. She’s using her whole break for this, Techno knows, and he doesn’t comment on it. It’s routine. It's how they became friends, the age gap a little too big for them to really have been in school at the same time. She told him to enjoy his meal, and he said you too, and here they are.

After the twenty minutes are over, Niki peels herself away from the table and back on her feet. She gives Techno a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. “I'll let Wilbur know,” she says, and Techno is so grateful for her.

The next few days are as routine as they could be. Techno goes on about his life as if nothing at all happened, because the fact that it did changes nothing. He still needs to pay rent, and he still needs to feed Floof, and he still takes his tea just the same, every morning, at the same table.

He can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched the entire time. No matter what he does or where he is, there’s always a shiver down his spine and a tension that he can’t get rid of.

Floof feels it too. That’s what tells him that he’s not going crazy, because she keeps growling every time the feeling gets worse, scampering away from Techno. He can’t blame her, if she had someone watching her like he’s being watched, he might do the same. She’s just trying to keep herself safe, same as him.

He needs. Techno is a rational man. He knows how life works, and it doesn't work like this.

He needs answers.

The man was in the house, and there's a non-zero chance that he’ll still be in the house if Techno goes back now.

It’s still day, he tells himself when he puts on his bad shoes, the one that are already too far gone for him to use for anything other than housework and this. It’s sunny, there will be light in the forest even when he gets deeper in the trees, he tells himself when he sharpens the machete he hasn’t stopped sleeping with since, and checks that his shotgun is still loaded.

He’s twice the man’s size, he tells himself, when he makes what has to be one of the stupidest decisions he ever has.

He’s a rational man, but when he steps into the forest, heading in the vague direction he thinks the house is, he thinks he might not be a smart one.

The forest isn’t as creepy in the sun, at least.

He can actually appreciate the scenery now that he doesn’t always fear something crawling in his back, silent and unseen. And damn, all the people who wrote about getting lost in trees and all that stuff had something, because it is beautiful. If he wasn’t sure that people got killed here, Techno might consider making a habit of this.

The only thing that tells him he’s getting close to his destination is the growing silence. Now that he’s paying attention for it, it’s easier to spot.

The birds stop singing when he gets past a stream. There's no more scuttling, only the wind after he climbs past a fallen trunk. Time seems to nearly stop when he steps into the clearing, the house mere feet away.

Techno grips the machete tightly.

He doesn’t knock this time. He doesn’t give the man any warning, just walks in and straight to the hidden room, and hopes he doesn’t get jumped and killed in the process.

It’s empty.

There’s dust flying, rays of sun making it glitter from the hole in the roof. It looks too intentional to be a break, and not square or circular enough to be anything but, and it’s the least of Techno’s worries.

The cups haven't moved since the night he had tea. The one that he dropped is shattered on the ground, small pieces having fallen all across the ground.

He almost wants to head back down and check to see if his shoes are still there. He has a feeling they might be, oddly. He doesn’t know what to make of that, so he just focuses on the task at hand, because that's what he’s good at.

Techno breathes. Alright. He’s not getting actively murdered, and he might be able to get to the bottom of this, or at least deeper than surface level.

He just needs to find the man.

And so Techno finds himself wondering the halls, discovering doors and stairs in places he never thought to have looked. He would have loved this place as a kid, very mysterious ancient castle with secrets, all that. Even now, if the only resident wasn’t a creep, Techno might take more time to explore.

In that spirit, it’s only fitting that the master bedroom would be at the center of the top floor.

He’s tested half of the other doors on his way already. Most of them came easily, the others came with a bit of force, the wood eaten by more than a few woodworms. Techno’s not sure how the house is even still standing, with that much decay, but he’s not about to ask the man when he sees him. It's like, the least of his issues right now.

Techno stumbles upon him when he doesn’t truly believe he will. He’s kind of given up by then, but he opens the door, and there he is.

He doesn’t know what he expected. The rest of the house is rotten, and the room is no different. The curtains have holes in them, and look like they might have once been red. The bedsheets weren’t white anymore, stained brown and green, as seemed to be everything. He doesn’t feel like that's healthy to live in, but he also doesn't live there, so it’s none of his business.

The man is sleeping. He’s hugging the pillow to his chest, mouth half open, and it might be the first time he’s ever truly looked human, despite the still too long teeth.

Techno doesn't know what to do with that.

He’s ready to fight. He’s ready for confrontation, for demanding answers and getting them any way he might need to. This isn’t how this was going to go in his mind, and now Techno finds himself at loss’s end.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stay that way long, because one moment he’s looking away from the man, the next those sharp eyes are fixed on him, and Techno’s breath catches in his throat.

The man only watches. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t attack or retreat. He just watches, his eyes following what feels like Techno’s every single little twitch and breath. It’s the same feeling he’s had for the past couple of days, and he finds himself frozen again.

He takes a step back the moment the man looks away, yawning.

It’s like watching a cat, or a snake. His mouth opens too wide and shows too many teeth, and Techno’s certain that he would be dead if the man wanted him dead, would have been the moment he’d stepped foot in the clearing. He’s only alive because the man allowed it, he knows.

He keeps allowing it. Techno doesn’t exit the room, nor does he move from his spot in the doorway, while the man drags himself out of bed. He stands, and he stares.

He’s too pale, too gray. Techno’s seen dead bodies before, comes with finding the last dead guy, and the man looks exactly like them. He moves with a certain stiffness, in little jerks that Techno might not have noticed if he wasn’t clearly making a show of it.

Dread settles in his stomach, and his hand tightens on his machete, and just like before, exactly the same, he finds that he can do nothing.

He isn’t sure how long the man keeps him here for. The only window in the room is mostly boarded up, and the sun that filters out of it is not nearly enough for Techno to tell if it's going down or not. He left early in the afternoon, he could be there for hours, and he would not realize until it was evening.

Eventually, thoughs the man seems to be done with his morning routine, because he turns to Techno and smiles. “Hey mate. It’s a bit early, you know, you could have given me a warning you were coming.” it almost sounds friendly, almost sounds teasing, just like his smile looks almost friendly.

Techno ducks his head. “Sorry,” he says. “Wanted to see you.”

The man’s grin gets larger. “Well, let us get to the living, then, it's a much better place to chat.”

And, just like that, Techno follows.

“A lot of sugar, right?” the man asks, when they get to the same room as before. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess, haven’t had the time to clean up.”

“‘Ts okay, didn’t warn you,” Techno hears himself say before he sits down in the couch. It's still damp. It's still cold. The pieces of the cup are at Techno’s feet, and he makes sure not to step in it.

The man makes the tea. Then he sits down opposite of Techno, and hands him his cup like there’s not a single thing wrong.

He's still not attacking. He’s still not doing anything to Techno.

He drinks the tea.

“What did you want to talk about, mate?” the man asks.

Techno opens his mouth to answer, but the words don’t come out of his mouth. He knows– he knows what he was going to ask, he has a plan and all, but his mind is entirely blank. There’s only the muted whisper of his voices, blurred as if they were in another room.

“Oh!” the man says, as if he’s forgotten something, and like before, the pressure in Techno’s skull pops.

He clears his throat. “First, wanted to ask your name. You’ve got mine, and I can’t just call you ‘man in the woods’ in my head, you know?” that’s not exactly how he planned on saying it, but hey, he’s already here, and he hasn’t been killed yet, so maybe he won’t get killed for the disrespect either.

The man smiles. His teeth poke out, and Techno takes a sip of his tea. The sugar sticks to the back of his throat. “Friends should know each other’s name, you’re right,” he says. He still doesn’t offer up his name. Techno raises an eyebrow, and like before, a small look of surprise crosses the man’s face. He extends a hand. “You can call me Phil.”

Techno takes it. It doesn't tell him anything, it’s not something he can google, and it’s probably fake, but hey, at least it does make him easier for him to refer to him in his head, so there's that.

“Also wanted to ask,” he starts again after Phil has leaned back into his chair. He takes another sip of the tea. “Here’s not really the closest to town, can’t be too practical.”

Phil’s grin grows sharp, maybe a little dangerous. Not to him, Techno doesn’t think, though. “You’d be surprised.”

Again, it tells him nothing. Techno’s starting to think it’s going to be a pattern, and he’s not going to get anything out of this at all. Maybe he should have stayed home. He could have been hanging with Floof and having a normal time, and instead he was having tea with a guy named Phil in the woods like that was entirely normal.

It could be worse, overall, though.

He hums, and finishes his tea in one go. It’s so sugary it almost feels like syrup at the end. “Fair enough, you know better, man.”

“I do,” Phil agrees.

Techno leans back into the couch. He resists the urge to sit crisscross, because he’s already on thin ice for not taking off his shoes.

His shoes.

He left his shoes downstairs before because he was in the forest with a weird guy and children were going missing.

Techno tenses, and there’s something like disappointment on Phil’s face when Techno looks at him. There's no way that he doesn’t know that Techno is about to leave, and he doesn’t make a move to stop him, though Techno is certain that he could.

Phil lets him leave. Techno is very aware that this is something that’s allowed, when he does, picking up his shoes on his way out.

He feels like he might be sick. The feeling of the sugary tea is stuck in the back of his throat, and now sitting heavily in his stomach. He needs to– he needs to go, and he needs to never set foot in the forest again. He doesn’t– Phil let him go twice, and Techno doesn’t think he’ll let him go a third time if he’s so bold as to try.

He stumbles more than walk his way home. The trees provide a great support when his stomach twists and he churns, and he heaves, though nothing comes up when he does.

He tries not to feel like he’s been sparred by something that could have had him dead within seconds, and fails.

It’s muscle memory that carries him back to his apartment. Idly, he thinks that it should e night yet, that there’s no way he spent that long with Phil, but the facts are what they are, and the streets are empty and dark as he walks them. There’s no one to see him, at least, and ask what he’s done.

Niki is gonna be so pissed. Which is why Techno is not telling her about this, not if he can help it, because more than she’d be pissed, she’d be scared for him, and he doesn’t want that.

He’s fine. He’s okay, he lived, and he’s not going back to the forest, for good this time. He’s seen that Phil wouldn’t give him answers, and he doesn’t care enough to try again. The forest is going back to being off limits, like it had been for the rest of his life. He’s sorry about the kids, but he’ll help no one dead anyway.

Techno sets his shower to burning hot. He can’t really afford it, but he figures he deserves it today, if only to alleviate the cold that comes with the adrenaline crash a little. He’ll cut down on water and electricity the next couple of days and he’ll be fine. He’ll be fine, he always is.

He’s still shaking when he gets out of the bathroom. Techno turns the heater up, because he can feel the cold sinking through his bones, and no amount of money is honestly worth the discomfort.

His stomach hurts.

When he falls asleep, Techno dreams.

It’s nonsensical. There’s nothing in the twisting shapes and colors and lost words that make any sort of sense, or at least none that he can figure out, but dreams are like that. Techno doesn’t even remember much of it in the morning, just the vague knowledge that he’d been scared and a little awed, and he shrugs it off.

The morning is a blur. Techno can’t shake off the feeling of wrongness that’s settled into his bones, nor the cold that keeps him shivering ever so slightly even under a couple of layers. He doesn’t think he caught a cold, but he’s heard of stress fevers and all that, and he’s definitely been stressed enough for it, he thinks. He doesn’t entirely know how they work, so he might be wrong on that.

The fact is that Techno takes it easy. The light hurts when he looks through the window, it’s too bright in a way that he knows spells migraine, so he doesn’t go outside. There’s nothing pressing, apart from walking Floof, and he’ll ask his neighbor to do that for him.

When he looks in the mirror, takes in the large bags under his eyes and the nearly visible exhaustion, he’s pretty sure he looks the part.

He brushes his teeth. He makes himself breakfast, ignoring the heavy way food settles into his stomach. Nausea is often worse on an empty stomach, and he doesn’t wanna spend his afternoon throwing up.

At least he anticipated this. He’s off work today and tomorrow, for his usual day off and his boss’s – he’s pretty sure it’s his son’s fifth birthday? He might be wrong on that one, he’s never been one to keep that informed about his colleagues' life. Point is, he has about forty eight hours to pull himself together, which is more than he probably needs.

He keeps thinking about Phil.

It’d be hard not to, he’s pretty sure, when everything that happened, happened, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s wormed his way into Techno’s brain and refuses to let go now, not even for the smallest moment. Techno’s voices are having a field day out of it, too. They like him, or at least seem to find the whole situation funny, because they keep asking to go back. Which Techno is not doing because he doesn’t have a death wish.

He never did a move to hurt him. It doesn’t change the fact that he was really, really creepy, but both times Techno had been in his home, he hadn’t done anything but be polite. In a really creepy way, but still.

Techno doesn’t think he’s the reason the kids went missing. Not really. He certainly fits the bill and all, weird man in the woods, but Techno doesn’t get the sense that he would just hurt people for fun. He could, but Techno doesn’t think he would, which is really grand of him to say, because both times they’ve interacted he ended up running away out of fear.

He goes through the day like a zombie. He tries to focus on the TV show he's watching, but he only catches glimpses of it before his mind pulls him back to Phil. He makes himself lunch, but it's almost entirely muscle memory when he does, and he ends up with the blandest meal he’s ever had. He still feels like he’s going to be sick, the nausea never really going away, so he makes himself ginger tea with a lot of sugar that goes cold before he’s had time to finish it.

Then, it's dark, and Techno can breathe again. When the sun is past the treeline and the light recedes, the headache that had been steadily growing all day releases, leaving Techno to sit down and put his head between his knees for a couple of seconds, with the near shock of it.

He swallows thickly. There’s the taste of sugar in the back of his throat. It hasn’t left since last night.

The image of Phil is once more seared into his mind, and he doesn’t– he’s not going back. Techno is not going back, no matter how much the house and Phil haunt him, because he’d like to make it to thirty-five.

He lets out a half laugh. He’s finally losing his mind, and it’s pretty anticlimactic, as far as this kind of thing go.

Floof is what pulls him back to himself and to his feet. Maybe he’s losing it, but she doesn’t deserve to suffer for it, so Techno gets up, gets her leash, and goes for a walk.

The feeling of being watched comes back. The moment he steps out of his apartment, his hand clenches a little harder around Floof’s leash, and the hair at the back of his neck raise. He almost forgot about that, with everything else. He almost forgets that it’s supposed to scare him.

The town isn’t known for its nightlife, but it’s pretty busy now in the evening. People are going around doing the end of their daily tasks, and Techno is no exception, he supposes. He runs into a couple of familiar faces, who all wave at him from the other side of the street, but again, who isn’t he familiar with here?

No one stops him, until this tall guy.

Techno can’t put a name to the face. He knows he’s seen him before, knows they had a conversation because he’s pretty sure he’s the brother who wanted to come with, but his mind draws a blank when he tries to remember his name.

“Hullo,” he says, and intends to keep moving, but the man – the kid, honestly, he can't be over twenty – follows, so he stops dead in his tracks. Floof tugs on her leash, and tries to get away, but again, she’s been doing that all day, so Techno has stopped feeling offended.

“Hi,” the kid says, camping himself in front of Techno.

It's not often he’ll call someone tall. At a bit over six four, Techno is pretty much taller than everyone in the town, with a notable couple of exceptions. Which the guy is part of, he has to be six foot six at least.

Techno crosses his arms a bit, so he doesn’t have to tug on the leash as much to keep Floof here. He lets silence fall between them until the guy speaks.

He passes a hand through his hair. “I– Niki said you didn’t find anything?”

Definitely the brother, then. Techno sighs. “I'm sorry, kid.” and he’s not setting foot in the forest again. He values his life.

The guy sucks in a sharp breath. “Not even– you didn’t find where he might have gone?”

The forest is big, Techno could have said. No, he probably should have. But it doesn’t feel right, lying to him when his little brother is probably dead. It won’t help, but Techno won’t feel like he’s just lied at a funeral. “Found a house. I checked it out, and your brother wasn't in it.” he doesn’t mention Phil, because that would give the guy incentive to go on his own. He squares his shoulders, and makes eye contact, no matter hos uncomfortable it is. “Your brother wasn’t in it,” he repeats. “Don’t go looking and get yourself killed. Clear?”

“Sir, yes sir,” the guy says, doing a mock salute with a smile dancing on his lips. Techno is not amused. He swallows and puts his arm down to nod, more seriously. “I understand.”

Techno’s done all he can, then, and if he does something stupid, that’s not on him. He nods. “Good. Don’t think your mom would like losing two sons in six months.”

The guy’s face turns ashen, and he says nothing.

Techno lets his feet lead Floof and him back home.

He doesn't manage to clear his head all the way, the longer the night progresses. The thoughts of Phil that were already pretty much everywhere before are pushed to the forefront of his mind, leaving little room for anything else at all. He doesn’t know how he’ll do work like that, if it’s not better by the end of the next day, but he’ll have to manage. It’s fine, he’s just, like, traumatized or something, it’ll sort itself out. He has to have faith in that.

The next day is a blur. Techno isn’t exactly sure what he does, or if he does anything at all, because when he wakes up the day after that, he’s so hungry and nauseous that he almost doesn’t get out of bed.

But that would only reasonably make things worse, so Techno moves on.

It seems to be all he does, until he reaches the end of the week and the next day off. His head aches almost constantly in the background, growing stronger through the day, and though he’s never been talkative before, he can tell that his colleagues have noticed that he actively avoids it now. It’s– he doesn’t think he can focus on a conversation.

Niki notices, though, and while his colleagues are happy to just ignore him, she’s not. And Techno can’t ignore her either, because they’re friends, and no matter how bad he feels he’s not making it her problem.

She sits him down, near the end of the week, at his usual table, and says: “You went back.” it sounds like an accusation, and Techno nods. He closes his eyes. It helps slightly with the pounding in his head, if he can’t see the light. The smells in the café make the nausea worse, and he says nothing.

Then, Niki hits the back of his head, and Techno jumps. “Heh– what’s that for?”

“Not listening to me, and being an idiot.”

Techno opens his eyes to look at her. “Sorry.”

She looks actually worried, and she softens the slightest bit when he meets her eye. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad.” he snorts. “The adrenaline crash messed me up. Think I'm gonna use my Saturday to sleep it off.” he doesn’t know how efficient that will be, isn’t sure how much it’ll help knowing that he’s been trying to sleep it off for the past week, but that's what he's planning on anyway.

Niki’s face scrunches up a little, and she nods. “Do that. I'll make soup, you look like you need it.”

Techno smiles. “How dare you imply I look anything but radiant.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in a month.”

Techno snorts. He knows. He feels like it, too.

His hands have a slight shake to them when he takes a sip of his hot cocoa. He’s figured out by now that tea was the best way to have Phil in the forefront of his mind, and that it did very little to wake or warm him up anyway. Hot cocoa tastes better, and doesn’t bring him back to the forest, so there's that.

Niki doesn’t comment on it, and starts catching him up on her week. He hasn’t been in much of a listening mood, and though he does try to follow her stories, his mind drifts after only a couple of seconds. It’s terrible, and he hates it, and he almost doesn’t notice when she’s about to leave.

He gives her a smile, and she reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. “Get some rest,” she says.

He takes a page out of the kid’s book from earlier, and gives her a mock salute. That earns a laugh, so Techno figures it’s a good thing.

The end of the week almost comes as a surprise. He’s so used to counting the days and knowing exactly how many hours are left that the fact that he doesn't, just let himself get carried over the days, startles him back into his own skin for a moment.

It’s Saturday. He has the day to himself, and he’s going to make good on his plans to do exactly nothing and try to get enough rest that he feels like a person again.

He goes through the motions of his morning routine, only after making himself breakfast, he only drags himself back to bed and under the covers. He’s added a couple of them over the past couple of days, trying to get warm, though he’s never managed to. It doesn’t keep him up, anyway, and sleeps drags him under before he can even think about the cold.

The dreams are something he’s had to deal with, too. In his sleep, Techno’s hungry, and it makes him into something he’s not. In his dreams, Techno does things that would terrify him if he was awake to remember them. In his dreams, Techno sees himself with those same eyes and teeth as Phil, and he finds that it’s truer to himself than anything he’s pretended to be before.

He wakes, and he does not remember anything but the hunger and the fear and the feeling of being so settled in his bones going away.

It’s Sunday morning, and Niki is at his door, tears on her cheeks, because Wilbur – that's the tall guy’s name – has gone and went to the forest, and he hasn’t been back. And Techno knows she’s looking for comfort more than anything else, but he’s been – if he’s gonna be honest with himself, he’s been looking for an excuse, so when the sun falls, he readies his machete and shotgun again, though he knows by now they’ll be useless.

His mind feels clearer than it has all week when he steps into the forest. The layer of fogginess and exhaustion seems to slip away with every step he takes that brings him closer to the house, the pain receding to almost nothing by the time he gets to the clearing.

He’s hungry.

He hadn’t really realized that, with the rest of everything wrong with him, but he takes the stomach pain and nausea for what they are now: hunger pangs. Techno’s so hungry.

That’s how Phil finds him. A hand against a trunk for support, and trying to breathe through the all consuming hunger that seems to drown out everything else. His knees feel too weak for him to walk, and he has to wonder for how long he’s been starving to feel like this. How long this has been eating at him, if it’s just over the week, or if it’s been from the first time he came.

Phil coos, seeing him, and wraps an arm under Techno's shoulders. He doesn’t look it, but Techno has no doubt he’s able to support his weight and more. “Aw, mate,” he whispers. It almost sounds like comfort, in the way that everything with Phil is always almost.

Techno hums and lets himself be half carried off to the house.

Phil stops at the entrance, and Techno takes off his shoes, as if nothing was wrong at all. Phil hums approvingly, and helps him up the stairs. They don’t stop at the first floor, where the living room is, and instead Phil takes him to where the bedrooms are.

Techno never did open all the doors before, and it doesn’t come as a surprise that the rest of them also lead to the same kind of room every other does.

Phil leads him to the room closest to his, and all but drops Techno on the bed. “Get some rest,” he says, and Techno almost laughs because he sounds like Niki. But then he says: “ill get you something to eat,” and Techno knows that he’s responsible, somehow, for all of this.

He closes his eyes, curls into himself, and very nearly sleeps. He doesn't think of Phil. Instead, his mind leads him down the same road it always does in his dreams, and Techno is too tired to truly try to get out of it.

Phil comes back some time later, Techno isn’t sure how long, with a tray. On it, cups of tea, like all the times before, as well as a sandwich. The logical part of Techno tells him that literally anything would be better than eating a sandwich from a moldy house, but the bigger, hungry part of him, doesn't care at all.

He props himself up against the head of the bed, and Phil puts the tray in his lap. “Don’t get used to it, once you’re back on your feet, you’ll go downstairs like everyone else,” he says, and it almost sounds teasing. It also implies that Techno is here to stay, and he doesn’t argue, not now.

Techno eats. Phil watches, with the almost friendly smile. For the first time in a while, he realizes, Techno's stomach doesn’t hurt as bad. He finishes the tea, and almost asks for more, but Phil beats him to it.

He runs his fingers through Techno’s hair, and hums a little. “You’ll make yourself sick if you have too much at once, mate,” he says. It’s almost an apology. Techno takes it as one, and sinks under the covers, drawing them up to his chin. There’s no heating in the house, yet Techno feels less cold than he has all week.

He isn’t sure how much time passes. He opens his eyes again, and the sun isn’t shining through the window yet, but it feels like he’s gotten a full seven hours of sleep at least. Phil comes back with the same tray as before, and Techno takes it with as little question as the first time.

The cycle repeats, and it might have been hours or days, and Techno feels– the more time passes, the more he feels alright, back to himself.

That’s probably why, after Phil leaves for what must be the fourth or fifth time, Techno doesn’t go back to sleep. He doesn’t feel that tired anymore, and he wants– he’s not sure why he makes the decision that he does, but he finds himself wandering the hallways, opening the doors that will open easily.

There’s a lot to see, even though it gets pretty repetitive. There are bedrooms almost entirely overrun by vegetation, and others that seem like they’ve only been left alone long enough for the dust to settle. All of them are beautiful and out of time, and Techno just has to take a picture.

He sees the date on his phone, and his blood runs cold.

It’s Wednesday. He’s missed– he’s missed over twenty calls from Niki, and eight from his boss. Most importantly, it’s Wednesday, he’s been here for three whole days and didn’t even– he didn’t even notice time passing.

Like before, the bubble of calm and quiet bursts, this time leaving Techno angry on top of scared. He promised– he told himself that he wouldn’t do that again, and he knows that he can at least blame some of the stupidity on the exhaustion, but he wasn't going to go back here.

He finds his machete and shotgun on the armchair next to his bed. Where Phil had sat and played nice for days now, for whatever– whatever reason, this amuses him somehow.

Techno doesn’t run. The other two times, he had, and look at where that got him. Exactly in the same spot, probably noted missing, and with Niki about to wring his neck the moment he showed up again.

He still hasn’t found the kids or Wilbur either. Because Wilbur has to be here, because Techno told him about the house, and now his blood is on his hands if Phil killed him, or drugged him, or did whatever he did to keep Techno here. He isn’t stupid enough to think only the exhaustion is to blame.

He waits. His grip is tight on the shotgun, and he’s ready to aim right at Phil’s forehead the moment he passes the door. Which he will. He has every time before, and Techno is counting on it.

His hands cramp from how hard he’s holding the gun. Techno doesn’t move away from his position.

It’s a long time until he hears any movement. Footsteps, light and slightly uneven, closing in to his door. Phil, it has to be, because Techno hasn’t heard any sign of life other than him since setting foot here.

The door opens.

Techno doesn’t mean to, not really, he wants answers before he wants vengeance, but he meets Phil’s eyes, and before he can stop himself, he presses the trigger.

He watches as the hole in Phil's forehead closes, the man standing as if nothing had happened at all, then looks at the bullet embedded in the wall behind him, the wood splintered all around the shot.

Phil moves before Techno can react.

The gun is on the other side of the room, and the machete with it, useless on the floor where Techno can’t reach them. Phil is standing mere inches away from him, and his smile has dropped, maybe for the first time since Techno met him.

“Do you have any idea what you could have done?” Phil asks, and there’s enough anger in his voice for Techno to shrink back onto himself. “Thank fuck the kids don’t sleep across the hall, I would have wrung your neck for it.” Phil’s hands are shaking at his side, and Techno has never been both more scared of him, and more aware of how close to human he is.

He backs up several steps until his back hits the wall, and nearly puts his hands up to protect his face. He’s a grown man. He’s a grown man, and Phil is, like, half his size, and he can’t fully keep his breath from catching in his throat when he steps closer.

Phil stops, then. He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath, and when he opens them again, he sits down on the armchair. “You’re angry at me, I understand, but that’s no reason to take it out on the others.”

Techno lets out a baffled laugh before he can help himself. “You’re insane,” he says, because that’s the only thing that makes sense at that point. People– people can get those sclera tattoos, right? Yeah. Techno nods to himself, and pushes away from the wall. “You’re–I'm leaving. I'm leaving,” he repeats, both to convince himself and Phil.

He doesn’t go for the machete and the shotgun. They’re useless, anyway.

The house is empty, apart from the two of them, he tells himself when he all but runs down the stairs. If anyone was in it, they’d have heard the gunshot and Techno would have heard them. Phil keeps mentioning ‘the other’s’, but he also lives in a moldy house, which Techno is sure is what’s messing with his mind. That's the only thing that makes sense. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

The way back to the town is almost seared in him. He doesn’t have to think about it for him to get to the town center, then to his apartment building.

Floof growls at him when he comes in, and Techno locks himself in the bathroom, and sits in the shower until he can breathe again.

He left his shoes. He left his stupid shoes, and now he’s pretty sure he’s got a bunch of splinters, like last time, because who in their right mind goes walking barefoot in the forest – or in socks, it doesn't change much. There’s blood going down the shower drain, and Techno closes his eyes not to see it and not to feel his stomach churn again.

It's– what is he doing? What is he doing, why did he think this was a good idea? Phil is– Phil won’t come looking for him in the town, Techno doesn’t think, but then again, the guys– he’s not right. There’s something– he’s off. He’s way off.

Techno wraps himself in his blankets, and sits with his back to the wall. He needs to call his boss. He needs to call Niki and tell her that he’s alive, that she didn’t lose him to. He watches the door and waits for something to happen. For Phil to walk in with a tray, maybe.

Nothing happens, and he spends the night waiting.

He does call in the morning. The light hurts his eyes, though not nearly as much as it did last week, and with the blinds drawn, Techno can ignore it. That’s what happens when you pull an all-nighter, he should know, he used to do that a lot in high school.

Niki answers on the first ring. “Techno,” she breathes, and he doesn’t have time to answer before she says: “ill be right here” and hangs up.

Techno leans against the wall.

She shows, and she looks like she’s been in a storm. Techno makes her sit down before she can say anything, makes space for her on his bed, sitting up all the way so there’s enough room for too.

She leans against his shoulder, and says nothing for a couple of minutes. Techno doesn’t know how to start this, so he keeps his mouth shut, and waits it out.

“I'm unbelievably mad at you,” Niki says softly.

Techno nods.

“This was stupid. This was stupid, and you could have gotten killed.”

He breathes. “He didn't…” Techno doesn't know how to explain it, and he doesn't think he can in a coherent way. “I don't think he was going to hurt me. Except when I tried to shoot him, I dunno, the guy didn’t look like he was gonna kill me.”

Niki turns slightly, and makes Techno look at her. He stares at her left eyebrow, and she doesn’t call him out on it. “Techno. He could have. Like–” her breath is shaky when she exhales. “Wilbur and Tommy and Tubbo.”

Ah. those are the kids who disappeared. Techno kinda put their names away from the forefront of his mind, didn’t think it was all that relevant, but he recognizes them.

“They weren’t there,” he says, voice far firmer than he really feels. He’s not entirely sure that’s true, what he’s saying, that they weren’t there, but there’s– if they had been, he’d have found them.

Niki looks at him a little oddly. “They weren’t? You’re sure?”

Techno shrugs. “I looked around. I went all the way down to the basement, and it just– it’s an empty house. It’s moldy and all, and I think it’s messing with the guy’s mind, honestly.”

Silence stretches for a couple of seconds, then Niki nods, and bites her lip. “Techno.”

He hums.

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“Promise me,” she repeats. “That no matter what, you won’t go back, okay? I– Wilbur was my best friend, and I can’t lose you too.” she gives him a weak smile, and Techno nods, because what else can he do but agree.

He clears his throat. “Promise. I’ll stay put.”

“If you think about it, come see me first, okay? Just– please come see me first.”

Techno snorts. “No way I'm gonna go back,” he says, and though he’s said it before, he wills it to be true. He doesn’t want to die, and he’s pretty sure that Phil might welcome him with the same kindness as before, but that he won’t survive that house without losing parts of himself.

Niki doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she does try to, so Techno doesn’t point it out. She’s been through enough in the past couple of weeks, Techno doesn’t– he’s not planning on leaving again. That's not how being a good friend works, is it?

She stands up then. “How long’s it been since you cleaned up around here?” she asks.

Techno shrugs a little. “A while. Was sick for a while.” he hadn’t really had the mind to clean when he could barely think straight, he’ll admit.

Niki hums, and starts to remedy that, apparently.

Techno almost stops her, but a glare, the moment he tries to, keeps him quiet. Niki’s a stress cleaner, she’s told him that before, and he’s not about to take that away from her, so all he does is get up and go to help.

They get through the apartment in relative quiet. At one point, Niki puts on music, and Techno hums along, and when they’re done, there’s still an hour of songs left, and Techno’s place has stopped looking like a war zone, or like it’s gone through a hurricane. He has to admit, it’s nice.

Niki looks satisfied, when she takes a seat on the couch, bringing her knee up to her chest.

Techno smiles. “Want something to drink?” he asks.

“Water, please.”

Techno nods, and gets onto that. For her, it's easy, just a glass filled with tap water, but for himself, he puts his mug in the microwave to heat the water up and makes himself tea.

He sets both cups on the coffee table, and settles down on the armchair, crisscross.

As he drinks, he can’t help but think that it’s nowhere near as good as Phil’s. It doesn’t taste like much compared to it, and it’s almost a chore to finish it, sip by sip. The sugar doesn’t stick to his throat, and Techno finds that he misses it, almost.

He doesn’t tell Niki as much, because he has the feeling that she’d never let him out of her sight again if he did, and she’s already got enough on her mind.

Niki picks herself up when she’s done. “Can I give Floof a walk?” she asks.

Maybe it makes him a bad owner, the relief that floods Techno then, but Floof has… she has been staying as far away from him as possible since he came back, and he doesn’t really wanna deal with that today, figuring out why his dog suddenly hates him.

“Yeah. That'd be… thanks. Yeah.”

Niki grins, and heads right for the cupboard where he keeps Floof’s stuff. Techno sinks into the couch and closes his eyes. He’s tired. He’s not a kid anymore, and he can’t just pull all-nighters without consequences, which he's really feeling now.

Niki fiddles with the keys, he hears, and he hums. “Wake me up when you’re back?”

“Sure.”

Then she’s gone.

Techno doesn’t dream. There’s nothing but darkness in his mind the moment his eyes close up to the moment he opens them again, startled by the feeling of cold breath on his face.

There’s nothing in front of him.

The voices in the back of his head are having a good long laugh at his expense, which he takes to mean that the breath is nothing more than them. He should book an appointment to adjust his meds, if this is how it’s gonna be. He’ll do that in the morning, If he remembers to, because he really doesn’t wanna move from the couch just then, even if It's just to find his phone.

Niki comes back a bit later, and Techno waves at her from the couch, mindless TV playing in the background. He hasn’t been paying attention to it, but it’s better background noise than the voices for sure. It’s not really hard, but you know.

“Old man,” she calls him, and Techno snorts.

“Child,” he responds. She puts a hand to her chest in mock offense. He pushes himself off of the couch. Ouch, maybe that’s not the best decision he could have taken, he’s definitely feeling the uncomfortable position. “D’you wanna stay for dinner?”

She shakes her head. “I've gotta get home, but thanks.” she kneels and Floof licks her hand, and lets her scratch her behind the ears.

Techno tries not to feel betrayed.

He looks out the window. It’s dark outside, though not night yet. “Stay safe,” he says. “Text me when you get home.”

Niki stands up, and nods. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

The door locks when she steps out, and Techno slumps back into the couch, and passes a hand through his hair. His fingers nearly immediately get tangled in it, and he can feel how greasy it is – which is not something that happens often, curls are like that – and has to wonder how long it’s been since he’s washed it. Probably not since the last time he went to the forest.

He winces in anticipation. That’s going to be hell to get through, isn’t it? But it’s what needs to be done, and after maybe five minutes of motivating himself to stand up and go do exactly that, Techno is in the shower.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him. He loses track of time in the warm water, eyes closed as he tries to untangle the mess that's become of his hair. It’s the worst that it’s been in a long time, and if Techno had been a lesser man he might have cut it all to a more manageable length twenty minutes in.

But he loves his hair. That's the one thing he’s always been proud of, the moment he’d gotten away from his parents’ house. He hasn’t cut it since, and he’s not planning on doing that just because it’s a bit hard to brush. No way, he hasn’t gone through thirteen years of learning how to handle it to give up now. That'd be ridiculous.

He does sit down, though, because after a while, he starts to get a little lightheaded and to get pins and needles into his hands.

He gets through it.

Techno gets out of the shower with his hair entirely untangled, and his skin red from the heat. He smiles at the mirror, and almost looks like himself, if not for the small bags under his eyes. So long as he goes to sleep early, he can fix those, too.

Techno gets dragged out of sleep by the harsh bite of wind and a sharp pain in his foot.

The forest is near silent around him, and he sits down. He needs to turn back, he knows. It– he’s never been a sleepwalker before, and yet here he is, and there’s something– weird about it. He’s heard that sometimes stress causes it, but he doesn’t know if that means that he should be able to sleepwalk to the woods.

He’s on the ground, and he checks out his foot first. The moon does a good job at lighting up the area, and he can see, albeit in black and white, the kinda big shard of wood embedded in his sole.

That’s not great.

What’s going to be even less great is walking on it and making it dig deeper, so Techno takes a deep breath and pulls it out.

The pain makes a shiver run down his spine, but the bleeding isn’t as bad as he would have expected it to be, after a couple more seconds, he pulls himself up. He doesn’t have his phone – he almost wishes he did – be he can walk back home. He knows the woods well enough by now not to get lost.

It stays silent as he heads back to the town. He should probably be more scared than he is. He’s nowhere near the house, but there’s plenty in the forest that could hurt him if it wanted to, not even counting the animals. But he isn't. Techno doesn’t think anything will hurt him, in his sort of hazy with sleep mind.

And it doesn't. Nothing happens, and he makes it back to town with a blood foot but that’s it.

He wonders if he should tell Niki. She asked him to tell him if he wanted to go back to the woods, but he doesn’t think that sleepwalking there counts as wanting to. If he had a choice, he’d have stayed home and not gotten a blood foot.

He drops on his couch. Floof isn’t sleeping in the living room, hasn’t for a while, instead tucking herself in a small corner of a cupboard.

He gets a good look at his foot again, in the dim light of the bathroom, still lit up after he’d grabbed the first aid kit. It’s not as bad as he thought it was, really. The cut is pretty shallow, and there's not nearly as much debris in it as he could have expected from walking around.

Good, it makes it easier for him to patch himself up before going to sleep.

He cleans it out, first, and it stings a little, but at least he won’t have to deal with infection. Then, he considers it, looks at how deep it is, and opts against butterfly bandaids. He’ll be fine with just a regular bandaid and keeping his weight off of his foot for a couple of days, he thinks. He’ll need to be careful, but he’ll be okay.

Techno goes back to sleep, buried under the covers and as comfortable as could be apart from the throbbing in his foot that’s to be expected, honestly.

It’s fine.

His boss gives him an earful when he shows up to work the next morning, but he lets him go when Techno explains that he’d been sick for a while, and that he hadn’t been able to push through anymore, had to take a little break to recuperate. He blesses Niki for not telling everyone that he got lost in the forest.

He falls back into routine.

His foot heals, and Techno locks his front door every night before he goes to sleep, and he makes sure that he’s turning in early and eats enough when the creeping of exhaustion slips in. he finds his pair of sunglasses to deal with the light. He doesn’t know what's wrong with him, but he deals. If it’s not gone within the month, he’ll go to a doctor, but for now, it's barely more than an inconvenience.

It’s not even a week before he finds himself in the woods again, or close, anyway.

He steps into a puddle on his way there, and the cold in his leg wakes him up before he can get to the trees, but he’s on his way there.

Techno blinks.

Fuck.

The voices in the back of his head swell, and Techno's almost glad for the headache, because it feels so natural. It’s what he’s used to, by now, and it’s better than the weird pressure that’s been building over the last couple of hours, and at least he knows how to deal with it. He knows how to deal with that when he really doesn’t know how to deal with walking half a mile with his keys in hand while being entirely and completely asleep.

He thinks maybe he should tell Niki about this. That she might not know what's going on either, but that she might be able to spitball an idea or other to keep him home at night. That’d be ideal.

His pajama pants are wet. He’ll tell her in the morning, yeah, when he gets his tea.

Techno locks the door. For good measure, he puts his key on the top of the cupboard, so it’s not as easy to reach if he decides to finish his night outside again.

He doesn’t.

He almost would have thought that he’d dreamed the whole thing if his pant leg wasn’t slightly stained with mud. Which doesn’t make him feel better at all. But he carries on, he keeps going through his morning routine, because he has very little other choice.

There are shining eyes in his closet when he grabs a shirt and pants. He closes it before it fully processes, and when he opens it again, a bat – he thinks it's a bat – flies out, and through the window.

It’s better than going face to face with Phil in his closet. Techno refuses to think about it further.

He gets to work without stopping at the cafe. He only realizes when he’s in the office, and by then, it feels a bit silly to get out and go back, when he could just go see Niki the next morning. He’s already on thin ice, he knows, and he needs this job, he can’t just let his boss fire him.

Except he doesn't, because every morning, he tells himself he'll go see Niki, and every morning, he finds himself on his seat in his cubicle without seeing her, and every lunch he can’t get up and see her, and it’s starting to feel less and less scary by the day, which is how he knows something’s wrong.

He’s grown so used to feeling watched that he doesn’t pay attention to it anymore. There’s shining eyes everywhere he looks, one day, and Techno just keeps going.

He doesn’t see Niki, and exhaustion and nausea set in just as they did before, until he can’t think past it, not properly, and all that’s in his mind is the house, Phil, and going back just so it can go away.

He stops putting the key on top of the cupboard, and he’s not surprised when he wakes up in the clearing, mere feet away from the house’s door. Techno should have ran. All he can think about is the sandwiches and the tea and how easy it would be to just do that again. To go to sleep and wake up warm and pain free.

He knocks.

Phil opens the door with a smile on his face, and Techno can’t help smiling back. “Techno,” Phil says, like it’s the best thing he’s said all day. “Mate, come in, don’t stay out in the cold.”

Techno doesn’t say that it’s just as cold inside, because it’s not true. Though he can still feel it digging through his pajamas, there's a warmth that comes with being in this house that he doesn’t even have at home.

He follows Phil to the second floor, and to his room. There's a hole in the wall from the gunshot that hasn’t been fixed, and Techno snorts a little. “You just left it?” he asks.

Phil smiles. Techno can’t find it in himself to be unnerved by the teeth. “It spruces up the place,” he says, as if it explains anything.

Techno hums, and slips under the cover with a sigh. The room is so dark, he can barely see anything even with the light slipping through the curtains, and the headache finally fades into something that Techno can get used to instead of the throbbing from before, the pressure that never really let up.

Phil runs his fingers into Techno’s hair. He leans a little into the touch, and Phil coos. “Go to sleep, mate, I’ll get you some breakfast in the morning.”

Techno hums, and does exactly that.

True to his word, Phil delivers. He’s all smiles and energy, and Techno can’t help but smile back. The good mood is infectious, and he straightens up into a sitting position, and pats the bed next to him for Phil.

Phil looks pleased, his smile widening when he takes the seat. “How’ve you been, mate?” he asks. “It's been a minute.”

Techno shrugs. “Work. Not much happened, man, it’s work.” he doesn’t say that he woke up nearly at the house, because he’s pretty sure Phil already knows. He doesn’t know exactly how, but Techno knows it wouldn’t come as a surprise.

“Something interesting must have happened,” Phil presses.

Techno hums, and considers it a moment. “Niki helped me clean out,” he says, because it’s the closest to anything interesting that’s happened this week. Niki. He needs to call her, he needs to–

Phil grins, and pushes the tray closer to Techno. “That's nice.”

Techno hums in agreement, and bites into the sandwich. It’s the best thing he’s ever eaten, and it’s a little pathetic, because it’s just kinda stale bread and meat, but compared to everything that just tastes like ash, it's miles better. The tea is also– he’s missed the tea. The last time he’d had it was when Niki was–

Niki.

Something’s wrong, and unlike before, the realization doesn’t draw the fog from his mind entirely. It sharpens the angles a little, but when Phil smiles and takes a sip of his own tea, Techno sinks back into the pillows with no resistance.

Phil passes his fingers through Techno's hair. Techno hums, content, and closes his eyes. He’s been tired, lately, and this is more comfortable than his apartment has ever been, he thinks.

“You can sleep,” Phil says softly.

He does.

When he wakes, there’s light filtering from under the curtains, but it is not nearly enough for him to truly be bothered. His head doesn’t even hurt right now, he’d be fine, he thinks, even with the light.

Phil isn’t here, and Techno almost misses him, but catches himself before he can fully form the thought. He’s a grown man. He’s a grown man, who’s been left to his own device in a big house to explore, and Phil he might find Phil along the way.

He heads down, first. He hasn’t seen where the kitchen is just yet, he needs to ask Phil about it, but he might find it on his way to the living room. His shoes are at the door, and his feet are cold. He might need to get some slippers, if this is going to be a regular thing, because Phil might not be bothered by the cold, going barefoot and all, but Techno likes being cozy.

The man he runs into downstairs is not Phil.

He’s tall and gangly and Techno is sure he’s seen him before, but he can’t place him. He can’t be over twenty, and he gives Techno a little wave when he steps into the room.

Techno waves back, and sits on the armchair opposite of him, before bringing his legs up on the chair. “Hullo,” he says.

“Hi,” the man replies. “We haven’t run into each other yet.”

“Been in my room.” Techno frowns a little. He has seen the man before, he’s sure of it, but it might also be one of those faces, one of those guys that looked like everyone else. If he doesn’t remember Techno, that’s probably it. “Techno.”

He smiles. “Wilbur.”

There's something there. There’s something there that’s so close, but Techno can’t reach it, and he has no idea what it is.

He clears his throat, and begs his brain to stop being weird, to pick a side. “Think Phil will be back soon?”

Wilbur nods. “He’s checking on the others, he said.”

“Others.” he has– he has mentioned them before, when Techno shot the wall. He shot the wall. He shot the wall because he’d been– He shoots up. “Wilbur,” he repeats. “Wilbur, we need to go.”

Wilbur blinks at him.

Techno shuffles from one foot to another. Wilbur isn’t harmed, and he feels a bit dumb reacting like that when he’s obviously fine, but he doesn't– Techno came looking for him because Niki was scared, and she wanted news and she still does. Niki.

He fiddles with his phone, until he has Niki’s contact pulled. He starts pacing while it rings, and rings, and why isn’t Niki picking up? It doesn’t know what time it is, but there’s enough light that it can’t be the middle of the night, she has to be awake and in reach. She has to be.

She picks up after the seventh tone. Techno's counts.

“Techno?” it’s almost a gasp.

“Wilbur’s alive,” he says quickly. “I'm– the place’s doing something to my brain. Don’t come alone.” there’s a crack behind him, and he hangs up. He takes a small breath, and turns around.

He comes nose to nose with Phil, and does his best not to flinch. He hasn’t hurt him yet, and he won’t hurt him– he won’t hurt him now, Techno doesn’t think. It wouldn’t– it wouldn’t make sense for him to hurt him now. It wouldn’t.

Phil’s face is pinched. He doesn’t look as angry as when Techno shot the wall, but it’s a near thing, with furrowed eyebrows and all. Or, not angry, disappointed.

Techno curls up onto himself a little. He hates it.

“Techno,” Phil sighs. “Mate, I didn't think I needed to do this, but…” he moves, and the next breath, his phone is in pieces in Phil’s hand. He sucks in a sharp breath and Phil drops the pieces on the floor, with the shards of the cup Techno dropped his first time here.

He should have run. Instead, he hangs his head low, and goes to sit on the couch like a kid.

Wilbur watched the whole scene with wide eyes, and only now that Phil is smiling again does he relax against the back of the couch, happily going back to working on – Techno’s not entirely sure what that is in his hands, it looks too small and too square to be a guitar, and ignoring the rest of what’s happening.

He doesn’t look worried. Techno figures he shouldn’t be either, then.

He sinks into the couch, and wonders if he could ask Phil for a book. Most of his library was on hi phone, but he’s sure that there’s somewhere in the house with books. There has to be.

Phil sits in the armchair opposite of the two of them. “Well, boys, what do you want to do this afternoon?”

Wilbur looks up. “Can I see Tommy?” he asks.

“Not today, mate, he’s feeling a bit tired,” Phil replies with a pinched look on his face. Wilbur nods, and returns to the music instrument, playing a couple of notes. Techno knows nothing about music, but it doesn’t sound in tune. Phil turns to him and hums a little. “And you?”

“D’you have books in this place?”

That's how he spends his afternoon, then. Phil leads him to a library hidden behind a door hidden behind a cloth hanger, and Techno makes himself a little spot in the dirt and mold-filled chairs. Some of the pages from the books are unreadable or missing, but he finds that he can still enjoy the stories just as well.

He’s forgotten all about his call to Niki when there’s noise outside.

He looks up from the book at the sound of people talk amongst themselves, and sets the book down to look through the window.

It’s a whole group of people from his town. They’re all folks he’s never really had more than a conversation with, that he couldn’t really pick out from a crowd, but here they are, gathered on Phil’s lawn. Techno knows, detachedly, that they’re here for him, and for Wilbur, but he can’t really figure out why and how they’re here. He’s fine, so is Wilbur.

Niki is leading them.

Techno sees his friend at the front of the crowd, looking more serious than he’s ever seen her, with a focused look on her face, and a readiness to her that Techno would find more at home on the people he fights at boxing.

It’s been a long time since he’s been to boxing. He misses the feeling of controlled adrenaline and violence, the fact that he might not be able to hit as hard as he might like to, but still can.

He leaves the book on the chair and heads back to the living room. Hes more likely to be able to see Niki from there, instead of the hidden library – which is intensely cool, he loves the idea of hidden rooms, and he needs to find them all.

Phil isn’t there, but Wilbur is, still bent over his music instrument. It sounds better when he plucks the strings this time, almost like actual music, though something’s still off about it.

He looks up and grins at Techno. “I've almost fixed it.”

“That's nice, Wilbur,” Techno says, and takes his spot on the couch, pulling his knees up. He wants to see Niki, or he wants to see what’s going to happen. Phil will take care of it, he knows, but still, it might get interesting.

He doesn’t hear the words, but he hears speaking in the hallway downstairs, right under where they are now. There’s Phil’s voice, and Niki’s, and it sounds almost like a threat, Niki’s voice low and sharp like it never is.

He pushes himself up. “‘M gonna check it out,” he tells Wilbur.

Wilbur only hums.

Techno makes his way downstairs, then, with his hands in his pockets. He needs to get better jumpers, this one’s a little thin, nowhere near his most comfortable one. He’ll let Phil know about it later.

Niki has a hand on a weapon. Techno’s not sure what it is, but it looks sharp, and she looks like she might use it. Phil’s mouth is half open, long teeth on display, and his movements a staccato, still too fast for Techno to really comprehend.

He stands in the stairs, and thinks, a little hysterically, that it feels exactly like watching his parents did.

It’s a stupid thought, and he doesn’t entertain it long, just steps down and sets himself between the two of them. “Hullo,” he tells Niki, and he can see the relief on her face, the way her posture relaxes the slightest bit.

“Techno,” she says, then she turns to Phil. “He’s thralled,” she spits.

“He wasn’t when he came to me,” Phil replies lightly.

She looks at Techno. “How did you get here?” she asks. “Why? You said you wouldn’t.” she’s almost pleading, then, and Techno tells her all he can. The truth.

He shrugs. “I dunno? Sleepwalked.”

Niki’s face goes white, all the blood draining at once. “You’re turning him.”

“As is my right.”

“He didn’t volunteer for it, he doesn’t even know what’s happening!”

“And I'm right here,” Techno snaps. Maybe he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, maybe they’re right, but he’s also in the room and he’d like to be part of the conversation.

Niki looks like she’s swallowed something sour. “Techno…” she starts. There’s pity in her eyes, and he nearly recoils away from her as a whole.

“Nah. I'm not– I'm not doing this,” he says, and turns on his heel to camp himself at Phil’s side.

Phil looks pleased at this development and presses his shoulder against Techno’s. “See?”

“It won’t stand to the council,” she says.

Phil shrugs. “We’ll see, mate. All– all of the boys came to me willingly. I didn’t force them. What will you say to that?”

“They didn’t know.”

“Even so.”

Niki looks at Techno, and there’s desperation in her eyes. He wishes he could just give her what she wants, but he’s not sure what that is. He wishes he could just tell her to stay, that she doesn’t need to leave, she could just join them, but he has a feeling that’s not true. That if he did that, Phil would get angry like he had when Techno shot the wall. He doesn’t want that.

He looks away, and crosses his arms over his chest.

There’s steel in Niki’s voice when she says: “Drop the thrall.”

Phil tilts his head. “Why would I do that, mate?”

“If they came here willingly. They won’t leave.” She holds his gaze. She’s more serious than Techno’s ever seen her, and Phil looks amused, a smile dancing on his lips. “Drop the thrall,” she repeats.

Phil shrugs.

The pressure pops at the back of Techno’s head, and everything grows clear all at once. He stumbles away from Phil and closer to Niki, who raises her chin a little, and steps in front of Techno.

“He’ll come back,” Phil says. “You know that. He won't be able to stay away.”

“He will.” Niki grabs Techno's hand and gives it a squeeze. Techno squeeze back, and follows when she steps away, because honestly, she looks like she knows what she’s doing way more than he does. Which isn’t hard, since he has no real idea what’s going on, and all he wants is to leave.

Still, at the door, he stops. “Wilbur. He’s upstairs.”

Niki looks at the stairs, and hesitates, before she shakes her head. “Later,” she says. Then, quieter, as if she was trying to convince herself: “ill come back later.” she looks at Techno. “We need to get you out of here. Now.”

Techno nods. That’s. He doesn’t want to leave Wilbur, or the possibility of the kids being here behind, but he doesn’t honestly think he has much of a choice. This is the better option. The option that doesn’t get him killed or drugged or whatever it was that Phil was doing to him. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to find out.

When Niki leaves, the rest of the people leave with her. She lades them to a road, only a couple hundred yards away from the house, and climbs into her car, opening the passenger door for Techno. He wants to ask. He doesn't.

Niki drives, and it’s not in the direction of their town. Instead, she heads right for the nearest actual city, crossing the bridge and all that. He doesn’t ask why she’s got a flat there either, when he’s never seen her even leave the town to visit her folks or whoever’s in her life apart from him. The other men split off a while back, so it’s just the two of them now.

She opens the door, locks it, and throws her bag on the floor. She looks exhausted. Techno can’t blame her.

“Do you know where we are?” she asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “Should I?” he's never been in the city for more than a couple hours at a time before. He doesn’t like it much, the only reason he even went in the first place was to see a veterinarian for Floof one time. Floof who's alone at home, and is probably gonna wreck his apartment by the time he gets back.

Niki looks relieved at that. “No. That's good.” she doesn’t explain, and instead draws herself a glass of water and falls into the couch, eyes closed. “Idiot,” she calls him, and Techno huffs.

He goes to the kitchen, and gets himself water, too. “I didn’t mean to go back to the house,” he says. He has a feeling that’s not what she’s on about.

“I know.”

“It was an accident finding him the first time.”

“I know,” she says, glaring at him from the couch, with the glass held to her cheek. “It's not your fault, and you’re still an idiot.”

Techno hums, and sits on the floor near the coffee table. “Can I know why?”

“Not tonight.” Niki passes a hand through her hair and winces when it catches. “I– tomorrow, I’ll explain, let's just sleep.” she sounds exhausted. Techno’s seen her work 24h shifts before, to buy herself a car, and to pay rent that one time, and she didn’t look as exhausted as she does now.

He shuts his mouth, finishes his glass of water, and nods. “I'll take the couch, then.”

Niki snorts. “You’re twice my size, and I don’t think you’ll fit.”

“It’s your apartment.”

“And you’re going to need the sleep.”

Techno huffs a laugh, and accepts her hand to get up. “Alright. Keep your secrets.”

She presses her lips together. “Not for long. Promise.”

“I trust you,” Techno says, because he does. In the middle of the weirdness, Niki is still the first person he thought to call, and she might know stuff he doesn’t, but he trusts her, even when she doesn’t tell him the truth.

He falls into bed in his clothes, stained with mold and dirt alike, and he’d feel bad about it if Niki hadn’t explicitly told him that it didn’t matter. There’s no clean clothes that’d fit him here, and the sheets haven't been changed in ages either, but he’ll do that in the morning. It's the least he owes her.

He doesn’t notice when he falls asleep, nor when he wakes up, dragged out of it by rays of sunlight hitting his face.

He scrunches his nose up, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as he expects it to. Maybe it has to do with being far from the house, and maybe it has to do with him spending a day there. He doesn’t know, and he might find out when Niki explains.

She’s in the kitchen making breakfast, when he gets there. She’s taken a shower, and looks more settled than she did yesterday. More than Techno feels, anyway.

“Hullo,” he says. His voice is scratchy with sleep, and he slips past her to grab a glass of water.

“Techno,” she says, immediately serious.

He closes his eyes and takes a small breath. “Breakfast first. Then give me the diagnosis.”

Niki snorts. “You’re not dying. And you’re not sick.”

Techno hums. “Yeah, you explain after ive had something to eat. And you.” because it seems like a lot, especially since she didn’t want to talk about it yesterday, and Techno doesn’t want answers so badly that he can’t wait twenty minutes. He’s waited– nearly a month, now, since he first saw the house. Dang.

He helps Niki gather everything she’s prepared – it’s a lot, more than the two of them could reasonably eat, but he’s not gonna complain – and bring it to the living room, setting every bowl and plate on the coffee table.

“Your talent never ceases to amaze me,” he says, when he bites into a cinnamon roll.

“Those were from IKEA.”

Techno shrugs. “You’re very good at unfreezing things.”

Niki cracks a smile, the first real one since Techno woke up, and he counts it as a win. They’re alive, they’re cozy in Niki’s apartment in the middle of the city, he says it's not going that badly yet.

They eat in silence. Breaking it means starting the conversation and though they both know it needs to happen, neither of them is eager to start it. Techno is happy with the peace and quiet he gets right now, and he doesn't– whatever Niki’s gonna say, he won’t like it. It’s probably gonna be a whole mess that he won’t want to deal with, and he’s not looking forward to figuring it out.

When he’s done with breakfast, he asks: “can I take a shower?”

As far as moves to put the conversation off, it’s pretty lousy, but Niki allows it. He likes to think it’s because he’s covered in mold and dirt, and not because she’s freaking out as much as he is.

The water runs brown and green at his feet. The more Techno scrubs, the more dirt gets away, like it’s managed to find every crack and crevice and stuck itself there. It’s not great, but Techno thinks he got most of it out after about twenty minutes, though he wouldn’t bet on his hair. He’s gonna need to do so many shampoos just to be sure.

But Niki is waiting for him, and the hair isn’t the most pressing matter, even he can admit it, so he puts his dirty clothes back on, because he has nothing else, and goes back to the living room.

Niki has put the food away, and is sitting with her laptop, furiously typing away. Techno sits on the ground, and waits for her to slam it close and look at him, tired and upset. He doesn’t know what it’s about, but he has a feeling it's related to everything else.

“So,” he says.

“So.”

Techno inhales. “Lay it on me. What’s going on, and what do I need to do.”

“Phil’s not– he’s not human, Techno.”

As far as dramatic reveals go, that one’s not the most surprising. Techno doesn’t believe in the supernatural and all that, but it’s more of a believe it when you see it kinda thing, and he’s definitely seen it now.

He nods. “Alright. Yeah.” he breathes. “What is he then?”

“From what I can tell?” Niki leans back into the couch. “Higher vampire. Katakan or Mula, I’ll say. Did he go out in the sun?”

“Not that I could see.”

“Katakan, then.”

“Alright.” Techno puts his head between his knees. Alright. Alright. Phil isn’t human, and he’s some sort of– literal vampire. He’s gonna trust Niki on that, and that this isn’t just a whole delusion or something, because that’s the only thing he can really hold onto right now. Vampires are real, one lives in their forest. “Alright,” he breathes.

Niki sighs a little. “I'm sorry. I should have– I should have told you not to go, I didn’t– I didn’t know it was something like that, not really. I thought it might be a Plumard, or some Drowners, nothing like–” she swallows, and when Techno looks up, she looks about as scared as he feels.

“It's okay,” he says. It’s not, but what else is he gonna say? “What… what do I do now?”

At that, Niki straightens. “For now, you stay here. I keep an eye on you and I wait for word from– the people who know more than me. It hasn’t–”

“He.”

Techno surprises himself saying it. Niki’s right, Phil’s not human, he’s not even, like, friendly to humans, if the fear is anything to go by. But he’s intelligent, and he spoke, and it feels wrong calling him an it.

Niki gives hi a bit of a look, but concedes easily enough. “He hasn’t finished turning you, so you’re– I don’t know how these things go,” she admits. “But you might be fine.”

Might. That what his life is holding onto.

It’s better than what Techno could have feared. Honestly, he half expected Niki to tell him that he was gonna get eaten alive by baby vampire larvae, so he’s counting the ‘might’ as a win, though he probably shouldn’t be. He’ll– he’ll process what it means later. He doesn’t have time to freak out about this, because he might not need to freak out at all. He can deal with a ‘might’.

He nods. “Alright. So we’re waiting it out.”

Niki nods.

“Got Netflix?” he asks. “Been meaning to watch Teen Wolf, it seems appropriate.”

Niki lets out a startled laugh. “Teen wolf?”

Techno shrugs. “Sure. Didn’t get bitten by a werewolf, but I feel like the vampire thing’s close enough.”

It’s dumb, and it’s far from being the most subtle attempt at distraction, but it works.

Niki comes next to him on the couch, and they watch Teen Wolf until it’s time for lunch. Then Techno keeps watching Teen Wolf, while Niki goes out to get some groceries and something for him to wear that’s not gonna poison him from just being in contact with it.

It’d be almost normal if Techno wasn’t having a massive reality reset.

Vampires are real. He hasn’t asked, because he doesn’t think he’ll like what he’ll hear, but that means a bunch of other stuff is probably also real. And Techno got really close to becoming a vampire, apparently.

That's so normal. That’s so normal that Techno is having to count his breaths not to let it get to him. He’s fine, he tells himself, because that's what Niki aid. He hasn’t been turned yet, and there might be a chance of nothing happening to him at all. Yeah. Yeah, alright.

In the background, the characters are running around getting chased by a wolf– thing, and Techno has to turn it off when he sees glowing eyes in the shadows, and sees the same when he looks around the room.

There’s a whisper behind his ear. Techno's head whips around, and there's nothing there.

The voices in the back of his head cackle and laugh.

He presses his hands to his ears, but as usual, it does nothing to keep them away. He– his meds are in his bathroom. There’s– there's no way for him to reasonably get them, and he breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, cause there’s no use panicking about it.

Techno also doesn’t have a phone to ask Niki to pick them up for him.

“Shut,” he says under his breath. There’s a lot he needs to deal with, and this– this isn’t part of it. He has– he has a vampire problem, he doesn’t need a voices problem today.

They just laugh at him. Mostly, they stay in his head, but a couple get real enough that he thinks he can– that he can really hear them, and it’s been years since the last time, Techno’s not used to it anymore.

“Please,” he breathes. “Not today.”

The laughter is an uproar, and his head is about to explode.

That’s how Niki finds him, whenever she returns, Techno's not sure when. With his head between his knees and his hands pressed as tight as he can against his ears, trying to will the voices away for long enough to focus.

He almost doesn’t hear her. She’s always had a soft voice, and it doesn’t cut through the noise the first time, Techno only jolting back to himself when she puts a hand on his knee.

He picks out every single detail on her face. The– the visual hallucinations have never really been precise enough to fool him when he looks right at them, that's why they’re usually shadows for the most part. But Niki’s real, and tangible, and Techno rests his forehead against her shoulder and swallows, trying to catch his breath.

“What’s happening?” she asks, and he doesn’t hear half of it, but it’s easy to figure out the question.

Techno shakes his head. “Haven't–” he breathes. “Not Phil. It’s not Phil.”

Realization flashes on Niki’s face. “I can do a run. Get Floof.”

“No,” Techno says before he can think about it. As much as he needs this, and as much as he wants to see his dog he doesn’t– he doesn’t want Niki to leave, not right now. He needs to be able to know one thing is real until it passes.

Niki sits down next to him, moving her hand to his shoulder. “When you’re asleep?”

Techno nods a couple of times. “Please.” His voice is shot, from what little he can hear.

They don’t move. At some point, Techno thinks Niki puts on the TV, because the voices swell, but the background noise doesn’t seem as aggressive. Techno stays, leans into her touch, and breathes. He’s gone through this before, and he’ll go through it again. He’ll be fine.

Niki hasn’t let him go. She’s got an arm around his shoulders, and at some point, Techno dozes, even in the uncomfortable position. He only knows because Niki wakes him up when she gets back.

She’s holding not only his bottle of pills, but also half of his medicine cabinet.

Techno only raises an eyebrow, not really feeling up to speaking much.

Niki gives him a small smile. “I wasn’t sure.”

Techno gets himself a glass of water, his bones cracking impressively when he stands. Alright. He needs something to eat, and his body won’t like the time being different from usual, but it’s better than nothing, and he can work on getting back on schedule over the next couple of days.

He finishes half a cinnamon roll left from breakfast. Reheated and from IKEA or not, they’re great, and he finds it– it's absurd. This whole situation is absurd, but hey, he’s alive. He still has a shot at going back to his dead-end job, and he’ll take it.

He wonders when the bar really sunk that low, and figures it’s best not to ask this question, because he won’t like the answer.

There’s a small bag of clothes on Techno’s bed. Most of it’s new, and not really anything he would wear on his own, but it’s clean, so it’s already better than what he has. “Thanks,” he calls from the room.

Niki doesn’t answer, and Techno puts the clothes on.

He dreams of Phil.

They’re looking each other in the eye. Phil’s mouth is open, to showcase his long, needle-like canines that make– a lot more sense now that Techno knows he’s a vampire. Phil goes to bite him, and Techno is weighed down like his blood has turned to lead, and he doesn’t run, lets Phil dig into his neck and lets himself change until he’s moving in the same staccato, until when he looks at Phil he sees himself.

Then he wakes with a killer headache that honestly almost makes him wish his dream was real, if it would just make it stop.

He left the curtains open. Techno keeps an eye on his face the entire time while he gets there, closing them blindly. Yesterday, he was too tired to think about it and now he’s paying the price with what’s probably gonna turn into a migraine before breakfast. The pain truly is unending.

He stumbles to the kitchen with his eyes closed, and the hood of his sweater pulled up so it offers a bit more protection. “Morn.” he winces and clears his throat.

No answer.

Techno gives the room a good look around, only to find Niki sleeping peacefully on the couch. It’s been a long week for her too, huh? It would be, with everything happening, even when she has more knowledge on it than the rest of them. He doubts that knowing it was a vampire that did it makes any of it better, honestly. He lets her sleep.

Cereal in her kitchen is about where you would expect cereal to be. Techno keeps his on top of the fridge, and Niki in a cupboard above the fridge, it’s not too far off. She doesn’t have the brand he likes, but it’s been tasting like ash for the past month, so it doesn’t change much.

Techno eats in silence, and wonders if he could turn the TV on, or if that would wake Niki up. He’d go for a book or his phone, but the apartment is bare at best, and. Well. His phone is a little unavailable, to say the least.

Niki stretches and yawns when he’s about halfway through his bowl, anyway. She blinks a couple of times, when she sees him, and he gives her a little wave. It seems to take a couple of seconds for the situation to register, but when it does, there's a tension to her face almost immediately.

“Hi, Techno.” she pulls herself out of the couch and pads softly to the kitchen. She goes barefoot, just like Phil did, and Techno really can’t understand these people.

He’s brought out another bowl, and he pushes it towards her a little. “Hullo.”

Niki slumps into the chair opposite of him, and pours herself a bit of milk before putting the cereal in. Why Techno loves her, he’ll never know.

Their morning is quiet. Techno’s not sure how to start a conversation, not with everything going on, and Niki seems more on edge than he would have expected. She keeps checking her laptop, and keeps huffing in frustration every time she closes it, so Techno figures it can’t be good news. That it can’t be news at all, because she’s not telling him he’s gonna die, either.

About an hour after they both woke up, Techno turns the TV on.

It’s a surprise to see their little town making the news. It’s like, maybe a thousand people tops, and there they are. It’s not national, or even state news, but there are images of their town on county new, which is still weird.

And it’s all because Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo, have gone back home.

Niki sucks in a sharp breath, seeing it.

“Take it that's not good?”

She shakes her head. “No– it means they’re–” Niki breathes and closes her eyes. “See the way– when the camera is just focusing on them, their eyes–”

“They reflect it.” Like Phil’s eyes. Like predators, and something that's not human anymore.

Niki nods. “Too late.” she passes a hand on her face, and through her hair, and sinks back into the couch, so that it almost swallows her.

Techno gives her a second, before he says: “What now?”

Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo have become exactly like Phil. Vampires, even though thinking it still feels– so intensely weird to Techno. He was supposed to be next, but now he’s miles away in the city. There are three vampires released in his town, and he doesn’t know anything about vampires, but if even a fraction of the myths about them – not counting the sparkly in the sun ones – are true, then this is about the worst thing that could happen.

Niki takes a moment to answer. Techno has the feeling it’s as much to get her thoughts in order as it is to come up with a plan.

She straightens up, and leans forward. Her hair falls in her face. “We stay here,” she says softly. “We can’t– I can’t take on a Katakan, and I really can’t take on four. I send word to the council, and we hope that they get there in time.”

Techno opens his mouth, and closes it. First, at the implication that while Niki can’t fight this particular vampire, there are other things that she can fight. It’s not the most surprising thing he’s learned recently, though, so he moves on in favor to trying to figure out when ‘wait and see’ became their course of action.

“What are they gonna do?” he asks. He doesn’t really know if he means the council or the vampires.

Niki presses her lips into a thin line. “With a bit of luck, they’ll send white masks, that's a hunt for them. They’ll do quick work, or they’ll get killed and the town will be used as feeding grounds. I don’t know.”

Techno doesn’t ask what white masks are. He has the feeling that it would just make everything more complicated, and more complicated isn’t what he needs right now.

“Alright,” he says. What else can he say?

Niki opens her laptop again, and is furiously typing a couple of seconds later.

The fate of these kids and his town, and probably his, rests on an email, he realizes. It’d be funny if it wasn’t also absurd and terrifying.

“D’you have books somewhere around there?” he asks.

Niki gestures at him vaguely to go explore.

He does.

He can’t help but think about the house, then. He’s explored it, too, the winding halls and the eaten through doors, and every messed up part of it that he could find. Niki’s apartment is a lot more straightforward, and way less smelly. He finds her bookshelves after only maybe a full minute.

It’s mostly either old books, or comics. It’s both in character and weird, and Techno picks a tome at random, hoping it’s something more interesting than an encyclopedia.

He ends up spending the next – maybe three hours? – reading a convoluted story about a knight and a lion. He’s about halfway through when Niki tells him they’re having lunch, and he’d be incapable of telling you about anything that happens in it, or where the plot is going at all. It’s fun, a bit like reading one of those free online novels, with all of its amateur twists and turns. It’s certainly better than waiting for time to pass.

Niki tries to make light conversation for about five minutes, across a bunch of pizza hot pockets, and Techno tries to answer before they both give up. The situation’s too weird to be talking about the weather, and they both feel it.

That’s how the next couple of days go. They’ll have breakfast, Techno will spend his day reading, and Niki will do god knows what in the meantime. Techno hasn’t asked, because he’s pretty sure she’s not just getting groceries every time she goes out, and she always looks upset enough coming back to nothing on her laptop, he’s not about to press.

There's no report of their town. People have gotten tired of talking about the mysterious return, he supposes, there’s not much to say past the fact that they’re here now.

The cold and nausea is starting to come back.

Techno doesn’t tell Niki about it. Reasonably, he probably should, he’s pretty sure that it’s part of the whole vampire thing, but she has– she has enough on her plate. It hasn't killed him before, and there’s no chance he’s gonna walk back to the forest from the city, walk back to Phil, so he doesn’t think it’s that important.

She notices, though. He powers though it for a while, but there’s a point where he can’t hide the shakes and the fog’s that’s installed over his mind. She doesn’t mention it, and doesn’t do anything but turn up the heating, so he figures she doesn’t have a solution anyway.

At least he doesn’t have to go to work, so there’s that. Techno can just curl up under the covers and read and sleep for the whole day, and there’s no boss or whatever to tell him otherwise.

There are nights he wakes up with hunger pangs so bad he can breathe. There are nights he wakes up at the door, trying the knob over and over again, even though it won't give.

Niki receives something on her laptop, and for a couple of minutes, she slumps back, relief clearly written all over her body. Then, she sees him, hovering in the kitchen for– he thinks he wanted a glass of water, he’s not sure, and the tension comes back instantly.

It’s fine. Techno can– he can cope. Whatever’s happening, it’s– it’s not that bad.

It’s not that bad, until it is.

There’s a point in pain, like in hunger, where one would be able to do about anything for it to just end.

Techno’s broken a lot of bones in his life. He’s never been a careful kid, and he’s never been one to shy away from a fight. Broken cheekbone, broken nose, broken arm and broken fingers, he’s gone through it all before. He’s never reached that point. He’s never wanted for the pain to go away more than he wanted to play minecraft or to finish his book.

He can’t think. The only thing he sees every time he closes his eyes, is the house, and the sandwiches and Phil’s face. If– if he goes, maybe he’ll become whatever it is that Phil is, but at least– at least it’ll go away.

But Niki keeps her door locked, and she keeps him here, and Techno loves her, he really does, but for it, right now, he’s never hated anyone more.

Maybe that's why when she walks into his room, light filtering through as she goes, Techno doesn’t think, he just acts.

She was surprises. He knows now that it’ the only reason he got the upper hand. She wasn’t expecting him to attack, so she didn’t prepare herself to react, and by the time her reflexes kicked in, Techno was already at her throat.

He can’t honestly say what happened. He just knows– one second, he was trying to breathe through his stomach eating itself, and the next, he was drinking something that tasted just like Phil’s tea, and made it all go away. He just knows that by the time he was done, and the hunger had receded a little, Niki wasn’t moving.

It takes a moment for him to realize what he’s done. For minutes, or hours, he just sits, and lets it all settle down. It doesn’t– Techno keeps breathing through it until he comes back to his body fully.

Then– only then does he see it.

There’s blood on his hands. There’s blood on the floor, and on Niki’s neck and shoulder and face, and there’s blood on the cereals she was bringing him, now spilled across the floor.

There’s blood on Techno’s face when he presses a hand to his mouth, and scrambles back.

He.

Niki.

He remembers the small bits of first aid he did back in his first year of college, and presses shaky fingers to her neck. He didn’t– he didn’t bite there, no, he bit her shoulder. She. she lost blood, but he didn’t. He doesn’t think he’s hit a major artery.

He wipes his hand on his pants, staining the light grays jobs red, and searches for Niki’s phone in her pocket.

He calls 911.

Techno feels sick, but Niki. Niki’s alive, and he’s– he’ll deal later. He’ll deal when she’s not– later.

The person on the other side of the call talks in a calm, reassuring voice, and Techno doesn't know how to tell them that yeah, he can see the attacker because that’s– that’s him. He almost laughs at the question, but it comes out as more of a choked out sob.

He has. He has five minutes, they said they’d be here in ten, but Techno wants to be long gone by then, because he can't. He can’t go to prison without killing the guys there, probably. And he doesn't. He doesn’t want to be a killer.

Techno doesn’t have much stuff to take with him. At all, actually.

He searches Niki’s whole apartment for her car keys, and eventually finds them in the bread box in the kitchen. He doesn’t– he doesn’t know what he’s gonna do, but he can’t stay here.

Techno, in his bloody pajamas, climbs into the car, and drives.

Then, he finds himself at the edge of the forest again.

He wouldn’t be the first person, to let muscle memory drive them somewhere they don’t mean to be. It wouldn’t be the first time that he finds himself in the forest without meaning to.

Techno should turn away. Every logical part of him screams that he should.

But he’s. He’s there, and instead, he gets out of the car, and walks in.