Work Text:
“Only 2 grams of venom this time too,” Hugh Spicer grunted as he forcibly shucked off his latex gloves and chucked them in the bin in rage. He seethed between his teeth as he fell onto the plush couch next to his wife.
Georgia Spicer rolled her eyes at her husband and took another sip of her tea. Her sharp eyes met the figure sitting in front of the couple in challenge. “As you can see, we’re having difficulty producing more venom from it. You promised us a top-of-the-line product, and it is not delivering. Give me one good reason not to sue you and your company into the poor house with no chance to claw your way out of the mountain of debt I will bury you in.”
The doctor (if you could call the amateur that) in front of them quivered but still sat tall. “Uh, Mrs. Spicer, we are terribly sorry that the hybrid you purchased is… is not meeting your standards. But from what I’ve seen, the reason why he is not producing enough venom is due to biology and his environment.”
That caught Hugh’s attention. He sat up on the dark leather couch and glared at the other. “Are you insinuating that I’m doing something wrong, doctor?”
They flinched. “No! No no no! Nothing like that! Heh - ahem!” they stammered as they waved their arms like a buffoon. “It’s just… animals and hybrids are different, that’s all.”
Georgia raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“Um, from what you’ve told me and what I’ve seen, you sell venom -”
“It’s a hobby of mine,” Hugh insisted.
“Yes. Selling snake venom as a hobby. Right. And I’m sure you’re successful in that front -”
“Very,” he interrupted again with a deep growl from the back of his throat.
“Ah-ha! Y-yes! Very successful with your hobby. Yes. And as I’m sure you know, snakes can be left in small dark cages and brought out periodically to… harvest their venom. They are low-maintenance, secluded creatures that can probably be left alone for ages and can still produce up to 0.8 grams of venom per ‘milking’ session.”
“We know this, so why are you explaining it to us like we are ignorant?” Georgia said over the rim of her teacup. Her red, honed nails tinked against the china at an impatient pace.
“Well, hybrids are different, ma’am. I told you that snake hybrids produce three to four times the amount of venom than regular snakes - and that is still completely true. However, the environment required for hybrids is different. They cannot just be kept in a small dark box their entire lives or else their mental state will decay - much like a regular person - which will in turn affect their physical being. Add that includes the quality and volume of venom.
“And alongside that, biologically, snake hybrids produce more venom than regular snakes, but they mainly do so when stressed or as one of their many defense mechanisms. From what I limitedly observed, your hybrid is always stressed.”
“So what?” Georgia asked, tone clipped and short. Why should she care if it’s stressed or not? She didn’t even know the thing could be stressed.
“Well, snake hybrids will - in a very simple sense - overproduce venom when in a stressful situation. If your hybrid is always stressed, then his body won’t be able to keep producing high volumes of venom. That in turn can lead to unintentional self-starvation and overall deterioration of his mental and physical health leading to… death.”
Georgia couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Are you saying that we have to keep this thing happy to properly extract high-quality venom?”
The doctor owlishly blinked behind their thick-rimmed glasses. “I suppose so. Yes. In very, very simple terms. But I will say there’s a bit more nuance to it -”
“We get the point, doc,” Hugh said as he stood. His voice dripped with casual charisma as he urged the doctor to their feet as well. A guiding hand on their back, he continued, “Thank you so much for your input. It’s always a delight to speak with you. If we have any other questions we’ll be sure to contact you. Our staff will see you out. Good-bye now!”
“Oh! Um, but about all that -!” the doctor squeaked before they were effectively shoved out of the couples’ den. With the doors slammed closed, the only sound was the crackle of the fireplace against the wall and Georgia sipping her drink.
Hugh sighed and ran a hand down his face. “This thing is more effort than it’s worth.”
“But it’ll be worth it, won’t it dear?” she rhetorically asked as the corners of her mouth quirked upward for the first time this evening. “It’s venom is… luxurious. Worth ten times the amount of any other pet you have. It’ll pay for itself within the year.”
“Yeah, but we have to - what - give it a room here? Feed it our food?” Hugh couldn’t imagine putting in more effort and resources into - what is simply - this side project.
“Yes.” she insisted as she stood to join her husband. She cupped his face in her dainty palms and lovingly scratched at his beard. “It’s a small price to pay to further our fortune. We just have to make the thing feel calm and we’ll be set for the rest of our lives. It won’t be so bad. Besides, a cage is a cage, no matter how gilded.”
---
“Ow! Fuck!” Jack yelped. He waved his smoking finger and stuck it in his mouth to cool. Hand not shocked, he pushed his dingy, swirling goggles off his eyes and eyed the offending electronic panel. It continued to spark dangerously but it didn’t detour Jack. He eyed the faulty hardware in curiosity with only a hint of irritation. Well, maybe more than a hint. Damn this junk.
He’s determined to make it into something badass but the mechanics were so old that he’s worried if it’ll ever come to fruition.
But fuck it if he wasn’t going to keep trying!
Riiiiight after a juice break.
Jack stretched his arms above his head and felt a few satisfying pops travel all the way down his spine. He groaned as he tensed his muscles, then exhaled and let his spine curve in satisfying release. He pushed away from his workbench and his snake trunk thumped onto the floor.
Scratching his side, he slithered across the marble and toward the mini fridge next to his bed. The warm, lamp lights around him bounced off his pearlescent scales as he moved. He rubbed at one of his dry, red eyes and ruffled his equally striking red hair. He thought it might be time for a bath soon, and maybe even another dye job. He passed one of the cracked mirrors on the wall and groaned. His roots were showing. Yuck.
Jack bent down to rifle through his fridge, searching for the best of apple juice boxes as he talked to the wall, “Once I finish the motherboard, I can probably hop in a bath. Hope there’s warm water this time. Oh! I should use the raspberry shampoo! Wait, maybe not. I should probably do my hair. Why does it always take so damn long to dye? And why doesn’t it last?! Well, at least dying won’t take as long as welding the body. I gotta work on that skill. Gotta make sure those lines are smooth for the final product. Speaking of, did I fix that tangent in the blueprint? Fuck, if I forget that it’s gonna bother me forever -”
“What’s bothering you, Jackie?”
“AAH!” Jack yelped. The juice box fumbled cartoonishly in his hand before he gripped it a bit too hard. His claws dug into the box and threatened it to burst in his hands.
His shoulders hiked to his ears as he whipped around to see Georgia. She looked the same as every other time she barged into his room. Brown hair in a tight, neat bun, wearing an expensive burgundy pant-suit, spine tall, and eyes sharp. She had a smile on her face but Jack could see through it every time. It never reached her calculating, judging eyes.
“Um. N-nothing, ma’am,” Jack muttered as he subconsciously shrunk in on himself. A slight tremor raked through his body. As much as he clenched his fists and tensed his muscles, he still shook like a leaf.
“Oh, Jackie!” she giggled as she casually walked around his space, “No need to be so formal with me all the time. You know you can call me ‘mom’.”
“O-okay.”
“So do,” Georgia said, her voice almost a whisper. Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch as she bore her eyes into his soul. “Call me ‘mom’.”
“Uh. Yes, ‘Mom’.” The name - no matter how many times they forced him to say it - never felt natural on his tongue.
Her demeanor shifted again. Her head held high and her tone light once again she continued, “Now answer my question, Jackie, what’s bothering you? You really shouldn’t be doing anything too serious. I would hate for you to get stressed,” she said in a sing-song tone as her eyes scanned his room.
It was a mess. He really should clean up - Jack knows how much Georgia hates messes. His desk was littered with papers and wrappers, his bed wasn’t made, and his workbench still had layers of scraps and wires scattered about. Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and hoped she wouldn’t comment on it.
“What were you working on, Jackie?” she asked as she gracefully strode to the workbench. She picked up a piece of scrap with her fingertips - careful not to dirty her perfect manicure. Her expression flashed with disgust and curiosity before it turned neutral once again. To anyone else, if they blinked they would miss it.
“Uh, just fiddling with some stuff. The usual,” Jack said. He wanted to chastise her to be careful as she flung the scrap back onto the pile, but he bit his tongue - hard. He could feel his fangs start to ache in anxiety.
“It looks like a bunch of garbage to me,” she muttered under her breath. Jack probably shouldn’t have heard it but he did. She smiled and turned toward him again with a gentle clap of her hands. “Well, I don’t get it, but as long as you’re having fun it’s fine, sweaty.” Her teeth seemed to glow amidst the warm lighting, but the look was anything but friendly. Teeth still bared, the corners of her mouth dipped and so did her tone as she asked, “You are having fun. Right?”
Jack flinched. “Ye-yes, ma’am - Mom! Yes, Mom.”
Georgia smiled. “Wonderful! Well, I’ll leave you to it. Oh, and make sure you redo your hair. It would be a shame if you were too ugly any longer.”
With that, she turned on her heel and clip-clopped her way out the door. As soon as the slam reverberated around him - leaving him in silence - Jack wondered how she was even able to sneak up on him like that.
Nerves on edge, all Jack could think about now was hopping in the tub and then going to bed. He’ll have to dye his hair soon too - per Georgia’s request - but that could be a tomorrow problem. Even after such a short interaction, Jack wanted nothing more than to curl up underneath his covers.
Jack then felt something wet hit his trunk. “Huh?” he grunted as he looked down at his pearlescent scales and saw the apple juice trickle down his body in thin golden rivers. The sturdy juice box in his grip was crushed to near shreds and the perfectly good juice was now a growing puddle on the floor.
His shoulders sagged. “Goddamn it… Now I really need a bath.”
Then he felt it.
Something else.
A breath on the back of his neck.
It was cold and sent a shiver all the way down his spine to the tip of his tail.
“How interesting.”
Jack screamed. He dropped the tattered juice box and whipped around. He expected to see Georgia again, but when he scanned his room it was empty. His heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. Jack panted as he clawed at his chest. What was that? Who was that?! Even though he was expecting the woman, that wasn’t her voice. It was deep with a growl laced within it. The breath was too close to his skin - Georgia never got that close to him.
What was that?
What the fuck was that?!
Jack’s hair stood on end and he rubbed at his bare arms - regretting wearing the tattered tank top.
His eyes still darting to every corner of the room, he was sure nothing was in here with him. No one came through the door and there were no windows someone could sneak in through. The vents were too tiny and his computer was shut down for the night.
No one was there with him.
But he could still feel eyes on his back.
---
“Chase, you’ve been staring at that dumb orb for forever now,” Wuya whined as she draped herself across his shoulders. “Pay attention to meeee!”
“No. Get out,” Chase Young said bluntly. He didn’t make a move to remove her for he knew that she would annoyingly wriggle her way back into his sanctum.
The witch laughed as she leaned more into his personal bubble. “You’re hilarious!”
He didn’t dignify the taunt with a response. Chase just narrowed his eyes and moved his hand over the scrying orb. The point of view shifted to a better angle and he could feel the corners of his mouth quirking up - only ever so slightly.
“What are you looking at by the way?” Wuya asked, bored once again.
“None of your concern.”
That answer wasn’t good enough for the witch though. The warlord restrained the urge to roll his eyes and end the scrying when Wuya leaned close to the orb. Her eyes scanned the scene with distaste.
“Oh, ugh. I thought it was something interesting. Is that a hybrid?”
“Look again.”
Wuya rolled her eyes as she leaned even closer to the orb. Chase could see the retort on the top of her tongue but her eyes lit up with realization at Chase’s fascination.
“Wait a second. That’s no hybrid. Is that…?”
“Indeed,” he mused with a smirk.
“But… I thought they were extinct! I thought you killed them all.”
“As did I. But it seems I wasn’t thorough enough.”
The witch’s own cruel smile crept onto her lips. “So, are you going to go there and kill the worm? Finish the job? It seems to be an albino one. How rare! But it’s still a… you know.”
Chase hummed in thought. That was his first instinct, yes, to rid the world of these creatures. But there was something different about this one. Something he quite couldn’t put his finger on. He wanted to observe it. Wanted to study it under a microscope. Wanted to figure out why it felt so different from the others he slew all those years ago.
“No. Not yet at least.”
“Pray tell why?”
Chase narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “You know as well as I how intelligent and powerful these creatures are. To rush in without knowing my enemy would be foolish.”
“Ugh, toying with your food before you eat it. Typical.” She finally detached herself from the warlord and made a few strides toward the door - hopefully, to terrorize some other poor soul. But before she crossed the threshold, she paused. She gave Chase a suggestive smile and wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh! Unless you want it to satisfy your primal urges. I heard those could be quite painful for you and those creatures are such ravenous lovers”
“OUT, WITCH!” Chase ordered as he finally ripped his eyes away from the scrying. She cackled as she danced out of the room in a wisp of green smoke.
Chase groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. Why he allows such a pest in his presence is beyond him.
His eyes peeked open between his gloved fingers and back down at the orb. He tracked its - Jack’s - movements. Tracked his shining scales as he slithered across space. Tracked the oddly red fluff of hair as it dipped and ducked around his room. The warlord knew what Jack’s kind was capable of - had the scars to prove it - but to see this creature be so… docile. Submissive, even.
What an odd creature indeed.
---
“Oh thank god, someone has a tutorial on this shit,” Jack sighed with relief as he scrolled through YouTube. “The prototype is almost done, but god, my soldering work is still shit. Need a break from that! I should nail down the programming before I go any further.”
Jack scrubbed through the video trying to learn as much as he could in as little time as possible. He was always so impatient when learning something new like this. But he was sure that this video would turn him into a master in no time. That’s how this worked right?
Jack was halfway through the video - his own coding program open on one of the many other screens while he sucked down some grape juice - when he heard his door slam open. Jack couldn’t help but flinch when he heard the booming footsteps make their way toward him.
“Look alive, son! Hahaha!”
Not Georgia.
Hugh Spicer.
Jack cringed. If it felt unnatural to call Georgia ‘mom’, Hugh calling him ‘son’ felt disgusting. It was unsettlingly wrong to hear such a familiar term thrown at him. Jack’s hand twitched toward his mouse, but he kept himself frozen in place. He wanted to close all his screens, but he resisted. He didn’t want Hugh to see what he was doing, but he knew hiding it would be worse for him. Jack remained seated - allowed the video to run. In no time, a firm, heavily ringed hand gripped the back of his chair with a loud slap. He couldn’t help but flinch again but masked it as his trunk slid a bit down the black leather.
“Well well well, Jack, being a lazy piece of shit again, aren’t we?” Hugh mocked. His tone was light and he chuckled at his own words, but Jack dutifully kept his mouth shut.
Jack spared a glance out of the corner of his eye and noted that the man decided to wear his maroon pinstripe suit today. His brown hair wasn’t slicked back this time. Maybe he was in a good mood?
“Kids these days! Always glued to a screen, watching videos, and not doing a damn thing with their life! HA! How dreadful!” He threw his head back and laughed at a joke Jack didn’t understand.
Hugh was such an oddity to Jack.
Georgia hid all her intentions but she made them known with her tone, her eyes, and her body language. It was like she spoke a completely different language without uttering a single word. It was always what Georgia didn’t say that was most clear to Jack. Whenever she would say one thing, he knew the real meaning of her words. He understood the woman perfectly.
Hugh was the complete opposite. He was blunt - to the point. He said such harsh things but Jack could never tell if the man was being serious or telling a joke - could never tell if the threats were real or in jest. Sometimes he acted on them. Sometimes he didn’t. He always belittled Jack but his tone made him pause. Was this sarcasm? No, Jack’s heard sarcasm and this wasn’t it. Was it an elaborate joke? No, Jack heard those were actually supposed to be funny.
The man was an enigma but Jack didn’t care enough to dig through.
“I mean, you’re wasting your life away watching… ‘Intermediate Python Programming Tutorial’?”
Jack sat very still. He could feel his claws dig into the chair's arms. The slow puncture of leather was satisfying but his panic overtook all thought. Why did he sound like that? Did he do something wrong? Hugh hardly sounded like that when talking to Jack. Was this a bad video? Should he not be doing this?
Panic raced in his heart. His shoulders crept towards his ears. He bit down on his lip - hard. His fangs pulsed.
A smile - Jack couldn’t discern what kind - crept onto Hugh’s face. “What on Earth are you doing looking up something like this, kid?”
Even though his breath was short, Jack did his best to sound neutral - but he knew his voice came out in a pathetic squeak. “Uh. I’m learning how to build something… sir.”
Cold eyes shifted toward him and locked onto his red ones. “Build what? I don’t like the pronoun game, Jack. Tell me,” Hugh ordered.
Jack squeezed his eyes shut.
He didn’t want to say it. He really didn’t want to say it. Because if he did, they might take it away. But he wanted this. He wanted to finish this! He was close. Closer than he ever thought he would get. He didn’t want it to be ripped away. Please don’t let Hugh and Georgia rip this away from him!
“I’m… tr-trying to build-”
“Holy shit, kid! Are you trying to build an AI?!” Hugh yelled from across his room.
Jack’s eyes snapped back open. “Huh?” he grunted as he whipped his head around. Hugh was no longer at his back but further into his room, standing at his workbench, holding up one of his blueprints.
He tried his best not to, but Jack shrieked. He popped up from his chair - it harshly rolled against the marble flooring until it crashed onto the ground - and was next to Hugh in an instant. He was a millimeter from snatching the document from his hand, but Jack stopped himself with a flex of his muscles.
Hugh wouldn’t like that. He would probably get in a lot of trouble if he did that.
Jack retraced his hand and shoved it behind him to keep himself in check. “Uh! No! Nope! No, sir! Not an AI! I have no idea how to build one of those yet. It-it’s actually a… robot -”
“A robot! HA! Not bad, kid! Especially because you’re building this thing with scraps from the factory. Didn’t know what the hell you were planning on doing with it - thought you would just bang them together like pots and pans - but this. This is impressive!” Hugh interjected as he examined the blueprints further. Jack didn’t know the extent of the man’s knowledge but he could see the gears turning in his brain.
“I want you to finish this thing, then I want it on my desk for review and revision. This’ll have to go through several phases of development because wow, kid, what an ugly face you gave this thing. HAHA! Kinda like yours! But don’t worry! We’ll get this thing nice and marketable. Get this done by the end of the month and I’ll ensure it’s on the market by Christmas!”
Jack was stunned. He tried to pipe up, but by the same Hugh took a breath he was already out the door.
Reviews? Phases? Marketable?!
What the hell was he talking about?!
This was Jack’s project. Jack’s! He was proud of what he’s done with this - ugly design and all! Hugh couldn’t just bulldoze his way in and take it from him! This was worse. This was somehow so much worse than them just ripping it away from him. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this
In a fit of rage, Jack grabbed the nearest broken circuit board and hurled it toward the closed oak door.
It shattered upon impact - thousands of pieces erupted from the breaking point. It laid on the ground smoking in tiny bits satisfyingly. Jack picked up another piece to throw but… Wait, it was smoking?
Jack paused. He curiously looked down at the scrap he picked up. Yeah. It was smoking.
Weird.
Wait.
It was smoking!
“Oh my god!” he shrieked as he dropped the piece of metal and waved his hand in panic. He waited for the sting. He waited for the heat. He waited for the pain. But it never came.
The metal that clattered to the ground was fine. The pieces of the broken circuit board were singed but not on fire.
“What the hell was that?” he mused as he looked down at his palm. He ran his ghostly fingers over his hand in a feather-light touch. If he looked very carefully he could still see wisps of smoke curling around his palm. But it didn’t hurt. Why didn’t it hurt?
“You should’ve thrown it at his head.”
A shiver ran up Jack’s spine. He yelped and grabbed at the back of his neck. He turned around but no one was there. He was getting an odd sense of Déjà vu. He swore he heard that same deep voice right behind him - right on his neck - like last time.
“You have power. It’s a shame you don’t use it.”
Jack’s eyes grew wide.
“Who-who’s there?!” Jack yelled at nothing. But nothing responded. His eyes darted around, but he was still greeted with nothing.
He could feel something staring at him still.
Jack should be unnerved by it. It should scare him and give him nightmares to come. But the only feeling that washed over him was curiosity. What did that voice mean? Why did it want him to be… violent? Who was that? Why were they talking to him?
Ugh, he had so many questions!
But he only got silence in return.
---
“He truly is fascinating,” Chase mused to himself. He swiped his hand and the image of Jack faded. With a tap, the orb floated away leaving Chase to ponder.
His lair was thankfully quiet - save for the rushing waterfalls and purring cats at his feet. He placed his hands behind his back and began to wonder about his grounds. A few heads perked up at the movement and followed their master while others continued to lay. He didn’t mind the company or stagnation.
As he walked, his mind did as well.
He was glad that he took the time to observe Jack more before going into that gilded cage. He was simply gathering further data on the boy. Nothing more. It was important to see Jack’s power grow. He noted how his speed grew every day. How his powers were seeping through his skin with every passing hour. How Jack’s intellect improved with every impromptu lesson. How his diet was atrocious because of the Spicers - of which Chase would ensure nothing but the finest meals for the boy. How he got self-conscious whenever his work was interrupted - of which Chase would dedicate an entire wing of his lair to allow Jack to work in peace. How he seldomly relished in simple pleasures - of which Chase would be happy to provide him more -
Chase stopped his pacing. The tigers and leopards around him looked up at their master curiously - a question in their eyes that they dared not ask.
“What an odd string of thoughts,” Chase muttered. He so rarely indulged in impulsive ideas like that. How curious.
Chase didn’t like that. He was usually so in control of himself - his mind, body, and chi. So rarely did he let any sort of impulse slip through his tight defenses. How curious.
Even though he was intrigued, he could spot a weakness a mile away - even in himself. He wouldn’t let his mind linger on curiosities. He investigated them. He did something about them.
“Perhaps it’s time to finally visit Jack Spicer.”
---
“Oomph!” Jack grunted as he landed face-first onto his many pillows.
For some reason, he was pushing himself to work harder, faster, to meet the arbitrary deadline. He hated that even if Jack wanted Hugh to be as far away from this project as possible, he was still working to appease the man. He changed the design over and over again, he scraped and burned himself to make sure all the lines were perfect, he wracked his brain and nearly tore his skull apart to figure out all the proper coding. He would have no problem doing this normally, but he was trying to do it all at a breakneck pace.
He hated it. He hated it so much. But he would wake up bright and early again tomorrow to do it all again.
He hated it.
He hated himself more for doing it.
But with the lights off and darkness surrounding him, he slowly closed his eyes to forget his exhaustion - even just for a few hours. His body twitched and relaxed as his breathing evened out.
Finally blissful, restful sleep.
Jack dreamt he was fighting a giant cheese ball - and losing for some embarrassing reason - when his dream shifted. He was back in his room. It was still dark. But he could see perfectly fine.
And the first thing he saw was a person.
Jack didn’t recognize them. They had flowing black hair and regal but practical armor, but the most striking detail was their piercing, yellow-slit eyes. And they were looking right at him.
Maybe it was his groggy, dream state, but he didn’t flinch. He just owlishly blinked as those eyes continued to stare down at him. The figure put their hands behind their back and glared down at Jack.
“Are you just going to lay there all night?” they asked.
Something clicked in Jack’s mind. That voice. He recognized that voice. But more interestingly, he felt a familiar shiver run up his spine.
“It’s you,” Jack mused as he slowly sat up. “You’re the one that’s been… watching me? Talking to me? What the hell were you doing? And on top of that, who the fuck are you?”
They raised a brow. “Are you always this crass when meeting someone new?”
Jack crossed his hands over his chest and sat up just a hair straighter. “I don’t know. Never met anyone new before.”
Bright sharp teeth cut through the darkness of his room. Jack couldn’t help but notice the larger-than-normal canines of the stranger - but Jack’s fangs were bigger.
“Well, little worm, you’ve now met me.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, not really. I’m still probably in REM sleep. You’re just a weird dream man or something.”
They bitterly laughed. “How are you so sure this is a dream?”
“Of course this is a dream,” Jack retorted as he finally got up to be at eye level with them. Jack didn’t realize how tall the other was and had to go on his theoretical tip-toes. “We’re sub five floors underground and the door has an alternating passcode, fingerprint, and retinal scan. No one can get in here. And no one can leave.”
Settling back down to his regular height - which was annoyingly right under the other’s chin - Jack slithered toward his cupboard for a dream snack. He was feeling dream peckish. Even with his back turned Jack could feel those golden eyes boring a hole in his spine.
“Also!” Jack said with a mouthful of cheese puffs, “Did you call me a ‘worm’? That’s super rude you… uh…”
“Chase. Chase Young.” he introduced himself. “And I did call you a worm because that is how you are acting.”
“Oh, no way, so you’re saying this cheese puff that was a byproduct of a cow feed processor is dirt? Wait, that actually makes Cheetos sound like dirt. Maybe it is dirt? But if it’s dirt, then why does it taste so good -”
“Do you ever stop talking?!” Chase growled. Jack noted how Chase’s eyes seemed to glow with his threat, but Jack made sure to keep a steady poker face.
“I heard being annoying is a tactic to disarm people from their true intentions,” Jack said with a shrug of his shoulder and emphasized it by popping another cheese puff in his mouth.
“Hm. Not a very good tactic now that you explained it to me.”
“You’re not real, remember? Just all in my subconscious!” Jack reminded as he poked his forehead with his cheesy finger. He felt the crumbs dust down his face but he didn’t care. It was dream cheese dust. “So are you just gonna hang around for a bit before I wake up or did you have something to tell me, Chase.”
The other gave a huff - and looked like he wanted to retort but held his tongue - and said, “I called you a worm for you are acting like such a lowly creature even though you are not.”
Jack paused his chewing and asked, spitting crumbs in every direction, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Chase rolled his eyes as a dangerous smirk grew on his face. He began to wander around Jack’s room. “You are acting like a weakling. It’s childish, immature, pathetic, and baffling. But more so it’s intriguing. Why do you act like a mouse in a cage? Why do you pretend to remain trapped here? Your talents are being wasted on such idiotic and arrogant mortals.”
His brows furrowed. That was a lot of information to take in at once. What was this guy talking about? No, wait, this was a dream, remember? What was his subconscious talking about? He wasn’t being childish, immature, or any of that other stuff Chase called him! Well… he was devouring this family-sized back of cheese puffs and still had his swirly red goggles around his neck. Ah! That’s not the point! At least he wasn’t trapped! No, wait, that one was entirely true. He was trapped, but he liked it here - thank you very much! He had everything he could need! All of his basic needs were taken care of plus he got to work on his projects! What else could he need? Well… Hugh was starting to take over his project which grated at Jack’s nerves to no end. But that didn’t matter right now! Did it?
Running through Chase’s comment in his mind, one word stuck out to Jack that made him pause. It made him really think about what Chase said - what he’d been saying. It made him rethink if this truly was a conversation in his subconscious.
“Wait, did you just call them ‘mortals’? You called them that like you aren’t a mortal yourself,” Jack said, voice unsure for the first time that night.
As Chase strolled around his room, his grin turned sharp and his eyes looked more dangerous. With a slow pivot of his heel, he slowly made his way toward Jack.
“Your - no wait! You’re mortal. You are mortal. Everyone is mortal. Everyone dies!” Jack urged as a sense of panic rose in his chest.
“The Spicers up there may die, yes,” Chase said, getting closer and closer, “But everyone in this room will not meet the same fate.”
Jack’s eyes grew wide. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“While yes you can still die, Jack, you won’t unless by someone stronger. As will I. We’re immortal to a certain extent, you see. They will soon die of old age. In the blink of an eye, they will wither away into dust along with the rest of the world above. And then what will become of you? Will you remain here to wither away with them?”
Chase was directly in front of him - staring him down with his intense yellow eyes. Jack backed up as far as he could - his bare shoulders meeting the cold walls. Jack didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what was going on! What was Chase talking about? What did he mean he couldn’t die? Why was he saying this? Who -
“Who are you?” Jack whispered, voice wavering.
“I’ve told you before, worm. I’m Chase Young.”
“What do you want with me?”
“I want to see your strength unbound by mortality. I want to see your intelligence run unburdened with possibility. But most importantly, I want you to run free from this cage and take gruesome revenge on those that put you here.”
---
“Uuuugh,” Jack groaned as he sat up. His body refused to go back to sleep, but he desperately needed it. When his alarm rang, Jack felt it pound against his skull like a hammer to marble. Why did it feel like he didn’t get a wink of sleep? Which sucks because he had such a vivid dream. How did he not sleep well?
Jack stretched his arms above his head - cracked his spine all the way down his tail - and ruffled his bed head. He tried to shake himself awake but his hand paused.
Realization dawned on him. His eyes went wide with horror and confusion. He didn’t eat anything last night - he was too exhausted from working on his project. He skipped dinner - he didn’t eat anything. Then why, against the heel of his palm, did he feel cheese puff dust rub against his skin?
---
“Goddamn it, Jack, focus!” he grunted to himself as he slapped himself a few times on the face. He had to keep himself awake. The deadline was approaching dangerously close and he was nowhere near finishing. He was panicking. He was getting sloppy. He was forgetting things. But he couldn’t help it. His mind was… distracted. The dream from the other day still had him a bit fucked up.
Jack groaned as he simultaneously continued to try to shake himself awake and massage his hands down his snake lower half. His appendage was slowly falling asleep from the lack of movement - his butt was practically glued to his workbench nowadays.
He was well past exhaustion but he had to keep working.
He was expected to have this project done.
He had to finish.
He -
His door slammed open.
Jack flinched and yelped before clamping his mouth shut. That was Hugh! Why was he here? It wasn’t the end of the month yet! Was he here for an update? To berate him?
“Oh, Jackie~!”
Jack’s eyes grew even wider. It felt like his heart froze in his chest.
Hugh and Georgia.
They never came into his room at the same time unless one thing.
No. Please god no.
Jack just sat there. His head was still down at the metal he was welding. His eyes were trained on the metal but not focused. Everything around him felt like it was spinning. It felt like time slowed around him. He felt all his muscles tense. He felt his breathing stop.
He felt his fangs pulse in panic with the need to bite.
A rough hand grabbed Jack by the hair and yanked him backward onto the floor and back to reality.
“AAH!” he screamed as he grabbed at ringed fingers tangled in his hair. He weakly tried to pry Hugh’s hand away but it was futile as he was dragged across the smooth flooring. His tail coiled and snapped in every direction - trying to escape.
“NO! NO PLEASE!” Jack begged as he crossed the threshold of his room.
“Jackie!” Georgia scolded with that sing-song tone of hers - like nothing in the world was wrong. “Not this silly nonsense again. How long have we been doing this? You can’t act like such a spoiled brat forever. We do so much for you. We provide everything for you. This is the least you can do for us.”
Jack continued to writhe and whimper though. He didn’t stop resisting. He didn’t stop trying to remove Hugh’s painful grip. He ignored Georgia’s hollow (yet truthful) words. He didn’t stop begging even when the floor turned to concrete underneath his sleek scales.
When the hold on his hair lessened, Jack tried to escape.
He bolted upright and tried to slip away. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he lunged for the door, but his hopes were squashed as Hugh grabbed him. He threw Jack onto the cold, metal table and he hit his head with a clunk. The fluorescent lights danced at the corner of his eyes as he groaned which gave Hugh just enough time to strap Jack down.
His wrists were bound in leather and his waist and tail were chained down with the usual locks and weights. Rough hands forced his jaw open and a large, clear tube was put in between his teeth for him to bite down on. Jack held the thing loosely in his mouth. He tried to spit it out but it was forced against his face. The tube was annoying but it made him more scared of anything else in this room.
Jack shot one final pleading look toward Georgia while Hugh attached the electrical patches to his skin and scales.
She simply stared at him back emotionlessly.
No. Fuck NO! PLEASE!
“All set!” Hugh said with a dusting of his hands. He then assumed his position next to a control panel where the tube in his mouth fed to.
With a goddamn smile on his face, Hugh pressed the start button.
Jack’s body jolted. “AAAAAAH!” he screamed.
His fits clenched and his claws dug into his skin. Lighting shot through him - pierced every nerve. His atoms vibrated and his core burned with the shocks. Unconsciously, his jaw locked up and he bit down into the tube. His fangs pierced it easily. Teeth in the hollow piping, venom shot out of his fangs. Like a geyser, golden venom poured into the tube and toward the panel where all Jack’s venom was stored. It poured out of Jack like a river - like an ocean. His body seized, and his subconscious tried to protect him in the only way it knew how.
In an instant, the shock stopped.
Jack’s body instantly fell limp. Not enough air was getting into his lungs as he gasped at each breath. His head lolled to the side and his eyes drooped dangerously closed.
“Please…no more…” Jack begged the tube awkwardly still between his teeth.
Hugh just rolled his eyes and barely spared Jack a glance. “Come on, son. You know there’s three rounds of this. We gotta get every last drop out of ya. You gotta be stronger than that. Don’t be a little bitch - haha!”
Georgia bent down in front of his face. He squinted up at her - at the very least thankful that her head covered those blaring lights. “None of that now, sweetie,” she started. “You love providing for us, don’t you? You help us all the time. You’re helping us now. Keep going. You’re helping us tremendously.”
With no warning, the second shock came.
Jack’s spine arched off the table as lightning coursed through him. He could feel each individual strike run through him - connecting from one patch on his skin to another. His jaw ached as more and more venom poured from his mouth. The tube almost overflowed with the golden poison. His muscles felt like they were going to pop. He wasn’t breathing. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he screamed.
Then it stopped again.
Slumping back onto the metal that burned against his skin, Jack felt even more boneless than before. He tried to move his head, but it weighed a thousand pounds for some reason. He was stuck staring at the wall between Georgia and Hugh. It was wobbly. Weird. Oh, wait. No. Those were tears. He was crying. Jack scrunched his eyes closed and felt it. Felt the streams of tears, snot, sweat, and drool running down his face. He was a mess. He knew. But he didn’t know anything else. This felt like an eternity. This felt like all he knew was pain. He couldn’t remember what it didn’t feel like to be in pain.
“Ugh. You get uglier every time you cry. Stop that, Jackie,” Georgia scolded.
“This is nothing, kid!” Hugh chuckled as he checked the venom collection. “Get over it. This pain is temporary. At least you don’t have to pay taxes - talk about real pain! HA! Not that we do either, but you get the point.”
Hugh laughed as he turned on the last burst of electricity.
Jack’s body surged again. His spine curved so hard he thought he would split in two. His claws dug into the metal. They dug through the metal. Maybe he could. Maybe he could claw his way out. Out of this room. Out of the lighting. Out of this pain!
Pain. Pain! PAIN!
MAKE IT STOP!
“GRAAAAH!” Jack screamed as his muscles tensed and his body rose.
With a quick flex, Jack ripped through the leather bindings. Upright, he began to thrash and continued to scream. With an unintentionally powerful backhand, Jack hit Georgia. She yelped as she was flung to the back wall. Her body collided with the brick, cracking with the pressure, and she fell to the floor in a heap - unconscious.
But Jack continued to see red. He roared as the electricity still coursed through him. He spat the stupid tube out, and venom splattered around him. He continued to writhe as he clawed to get the patches off. He screamed, thrashed, and -
“AAAAAAH!” Jack wailed one final time. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went completely limp. The shock was just too powerful and…
Jack fell backward onto the table.
Unconscious.
---
“- the fuck did that thing do to my wife?!” a voice yelled in the distance.
Jack could barely hear it though. It sounded like it was coming out of an old stereo. That was stuffed with cotton. On the other side of the planet. But he still heard it. And most importantly, he heard it getting further and further away from him.
Confirming he was alone, Jack cracked open his eyes. He was in darkness again. He felt the cold marble against his bare, burning skin. He was callously thrown onto the floor covered in tears, sweat, and dried venom. His arm was uncomfortably under his snake tail, but he couldn’t be bothered to move it. Or move at all, for that matter. Jack didn’t think he could twitch a finger if he tried.
So he lay there.
He closed his eyes again and resigned himself to the ground. He hoped he wouldn’t wake up with too sore of a neck tomorrow.
Oh well…
His mind turned to fog.
Weightless and lifeless.
Then a hand brushed the side of his face.
Normally, Jack would’ve flinched at the touch. But his mind told him he wasn’t in danger. Neither Georgia nor Hugh touched him like that - not that gently. Never that gently.
The hand tucked a wild strand of hair behind his ear. It slowly ran down his face again and toward his side. Jack then felt another hand near his waist. In a smooth, gradual movement, the hands slipped under Jack and lifted him up. He was pressed against a broad chest covered in cold, metal armor. Jack only knew one person who wore armor. By the time he could muster the strength to open his eyes again, Jack was already being set down on his bed.
Peering into the darkness, he saw Chase.
His subconscious, right? This was a dream again, right? It had to be. There was no other explanation. Jack didn’t have the brain power to think of any other possibility.
Chase had an odd expression as he rearranged Jack - ensuring all of his tail was coiled onto the mattress, making sure the pillow was nice and fluffed, throwing the covers over his body, etc. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look upset at Jack either. But the other definitely wasn’t pleased.
Jack observed his subconscious conjuring through a sliver in his eye. He feigned sleep which wasn’t difficult, but for some reason Jack didn’t want to alert Chase. It didn’t matter though, right? It was just his subconscious! What was Chase realistically going to do?
Eventually, Chase stopped. Jack was comfortable and that seemed to be enough for the other. Jack quickly closed his eyes again when those glowing, golden eyes moved their attention back to his face. Surely Chase didn’t notice, right? Who cares if he noticed? What would his subconscious do? So why was Jack so nervous right now? Why was his heart beating so fast?
Trying his best to make sure his breathing was even, Jack almost missed it.
Another gentle press, but this time to his forehead. The pressure was smaller than Chase’s hand, warmer too. It was a warmth that spread from that point - spread into his core and heated him from the inside out. A press that somehow made him feel lighter and made his heartbeat tighten - threatening to implode in his chest.
It only lasted a few, fleeting seconds. But when that warmth was gone, so was Chase.
Jack never sat up so quickly in his life.
But Jack was alone.
He was alone again but that flicker still burned under his skin. But this feeling was actually pleasant. One that made him feel less hollow - less alone. A feeling Jack could see himself getting addicted to.
A feeling he was already beginning to miss.
Slowly laying back down, Jack stared up at his blank ceiling. His body throbbed and his muscles ached - both from him sitting up too quickly and… the night’s earlier activities. In that deafening silence and the slow, cold loneliness creeping back into this core, Jack could only ponder where Chase would go when he wasn’t here. Was Chase truly just trapped in Jack’s subconscious? Did he always wait for Jack to fall asleep to show himself?
Or was Chase free?
---
“When will things go back to normal?” Jack lamented as he slumped against his bed sheets.
It was another grueling day. Another day filled with distractions and disruptions. Ever since then, Hugh and Georgia wouldn’t leave him alone. He would be visited by both - sometimes several times a day. Both still acted fake. But both were also far more harsh. Criticism after criticism. Torment after torment. It was getting unbearable! But they never made a move to hurt him. Well, hurt him physically at least.
He was tired of it. He was tired of it after the first day. He just wanted things to go back to normal when he didn’t have so many people popping into his daily life.
“Define normal in your dictionary, Jack.”
Speaking of one of the people that keeps popping into his life.
Annoyed and fed up, Jack grabbed the closest thing to him - which were his signature swirly goggles - and chucked at them to where he heard Chase standing with an irritated groan. He didn’t mean to chuck him that hard, but he understood the power behind the throw the second it left his fingertips.
“Ah-!” Jack gasped. He was about to warn Chase, but the other caught it with ease and barely a flinch.
“Phew…” Jack muttered as his shoulders untensed.
“An impressive throw. But I know you can do better than that,” Chase mused as he gave the goggles a quick inspection before setting them down on Jack’s workbench.
“Whatever,” Jack groaned as he flopped backward on his bed. “I just want one full night of sleep. One! Is that too much to ask for?”
“Immortal beings don’t need regular sleep,” Chase said as he walked over to Jack’s bed, and even had the audacity to sit on the edge next to him, “A simple moment of meditation can state a being of our caliber for days.”
Throwing his arms up in exasperation, Jack moaned, “I’m not immortal! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that!”
“The power you exhibited proves otherwise.”
Jack rolled his eyes and sat up again, looking Chase square in the eyes. “Look, dude, if throwing something really hard makes someone immortal then you should talk to one of those MLB players and not bother me each night, alright?” Jack knows that doesn’t make 100% sense considering Chase’s innate connection to Jack, but he didn’t care!
Chase rolled his eyes but he gave Jack a smirk. “I wasn’t talking about just now.”
“Then what -”
“I was referring to when you nearly shattered Georgia’s spine.”
Jack froze. He somehow felt the room drop ten degrees.
What did he say? What? Why? Why did he say that? Jack was having such a good night - well not good, but normal. Well, it wasn’t normal either, but it was lighter. Lighter than where this conversation was turning! Why did Chase say that? Why did he have to remind him of that?
“You were so close too. Just a little harder and I’m sure she would’ve broken, split in half!”
“Shut up,” Jack muttered, horror in his eyes.
“You could have. Should have. The power you have is much stronger than those whelps! I swear, I don’t understand your idiotic thinking of letting those worms live -”
“Shut up!” Jack yelled. “Don’t - don’t say shit like that!” He sat up taller in his bed. His teeth ground - fangs throbbed - and fists clenched. The corners of his vision saw red and his nails dug into his palms. It was painful. He felt if he squeezed hard enough he would draw blood. And that fact somehow ground him. What was he doing? Getting mad over his subconscious? God, was the stress getting to him that much? Stop doing that.
Jack slowly deflated back down into the mattress and unclenched his jaw. He looked down at the covers in shame for getting upset.
“Do it.”
Jack looked up to Chase. “What?” he muttered.
“I saw your intent, Jack. Hit me.”
His eyes went wide. “What?! N-no! Why would I do that? No! I don’t even think I can hit my subconscious! Can I even touch you?”
To answer his question, Chase lunged forward. It was faster than Jack could blink. Chase was suddenly right in front of him. He could feel the wind sweep around him at the speed. He could feel the breath against his cheeks. And most importantly, he could feel the other’s hand around his neck. It didn’t squeeze though. It just rested there - threatening to do so.
“You can,” Chase said, slowly moving away. His hand peeled away from Jack’s neck and left his skin burning with the odd desire for Chase to put his hand back there. “Now hit me.”
Jack shook himself out of his daze. “Why?”
“You’re powerful. I want to show you.”
With that, Chase got up from the bed and stood a few paces away, beckoning Jack to join him. He didn’t know why, but he listened to the silent order. Now standing, Chase braced himself. Eyes sure and not an ounce of hesitation.
While Jack had all the hesitation in the world. He had his fist clenched, but it didn’t feel natural. He didn’t feel comfortable even thinking about punching someone. He thought about the movement of it. He thought about how it would feel when his knuckles collided with skin - or worse, the armor. It didn’t sound pleasant. Any part of it. Jack knew he was weak - frail. He didn’t need to punch someone to know that.
Jack sighed and slumped. “I can’t. I just… I don’t do that.”
Chase grunted in annoyance and stood up straight again.
“I’m sorry, Chase. I’m not a fighter like you. I’m not strong. But… but at least I can do this.” With a snap of his finger, the creation on his workbench came to life.
Chase’s head whipped over to see his now finished project hover into the air. It was rough, but it was perfect in Jack’s eyes. The robot was sleek bronze, with black shadows, and red highlights. The face was still ugly but Jack thought it was intimidating. He smiled as the bot hovered close to Jack and he couldn't help but give his creation a few proud pats on the encrusted chest plate.
“Besides, Jackbot can fight for me!” At the verbal command, the robot deployed a saw blade that roared to life in a threatening, but brief, display of sparks and swirls. Jack was proud. How couldn’t he be? Especially when he’s never seen Chase make an expression quite like that - a mix of bewilderment, curiosity, and excitement.
“You finished it,” Chase said wistfully. “And it has voice activation?”
“Yeah! That was a bitch to create, but it was totally worth it! Now it can get me my juice whenever I ask!” Jack said with a small chuckle.
Chase scoffs as he continues to stare at the robot in wonder. “You never cease to fascinate me. Nagas are known for their strength in combat. They are incredibly intelligent as well, but not like you. You are far more brilliant than any other Naga I’ve ever encountered.”
Jack blinked.
“What did you just call me?”
Jack’s confusion was interrupted by a BANG!
“AAH! Jack shrieked as he impulsively ducked.
Chase stood tall but glared daggers at the door on the opposite side of the room. It was muffled but he could still clearly hear those voices that filled his veins with ice. The door cracked open a sliver - a mere centimeter - before it slammed closed again.
“What the fuck?! Who the hell is in there with you?!” Hugh swore, “Get the damn door open, woman!”
“Shut the fuck up, Hugh! I’m trying!” Georgia yelled back. The door rattled on its hinges and Hugh continued to pound and bust the door down, but it remained sealed tight.
“What the -?” Jack muttered as he straightened up. He looked over to Chase and he was still there. Wait, he was still there?!
This definitely wasn’t a dream anymore. No matter how many nightmares Jack got, they were never this vivid. Jack’s heart never felt like it would leap out through his throat. He was never this panicked and confused. And Chase was never in a dream with Georgia and Hugh.
Looking at the other, Chase had his arm stretched out and a green aura emanated around his hand. Jack traced the wisps of light over to the door where a similar green swirl glowed.
“How are you -?”
“I can teach you,” Chase interrupted.
“Huh?”
“This. Everything I know. I can teach you how to do it. I can teach you anything you would ever want to know. I would let you expand your knowledge in any direction you wish. And I would let you do it while having your freedom. I offer, Jack, come with me. Leave these mortals behind. You’re wasting away here! I can provide you with everything - all while you are unburdened. I ask you to come with me not as a pet, but as a partner. Or apprentice if you’d prefer. I will give you the world, Jack. I only ask that you are mine, and mine alone. I now ask you -”
He then dropped his hand and the green aura faded. The door burst open in an instant with a frustrated Georgia and Hugh Spicer in tow.
“There!” she sighed.
“Fucking finally!” Hugh yelled as he barged in. Both were still in their pajamas, which was the most disheveled Jack had ever seen the pair. “Who the hell are you?!”
“How did you get in here?!” Georgia demanded, her hair wild in thin strands in front of her face. “I told you it was talking to someone in here!”
“I thought the thing was fucking crazy, sue me!”
“Speaking of sue, we’re going to sue you and get you fucking arrested for trespassing!”
Chase turned to Jack - expression calm. One hand was behind his back, and another was outstretched toward him, his red swirling goggles in his palm. “What will you do, Jack?”
It was… it was a lot. It was all so much. So fucking much.
There was too much to process. Too much was happening. His thoughts were filled with curiosity but his nerves were laced with fear. He was still trying to digest everything Chase said. It was so much! Everything has been so, so much! This morning he was whining about his poor cable management at his desk, and now was faced with a life-changing choice. His mind was on overdrive. He was replaying what Chase said over and over. From the moment he showed up to this very second. There was too much information. Everything was happening so fast! Too fast! He tried to think of all the pros and cons of staying or leaving. Too many possibilities swirled around his already fried mind. Would it be worth it - worth the possible anguish, the possible heartbreak, the possible hopelessness? Was he really leaving? Was that even a choice? After all this time? Was this all even real?
What was happening?!
Georgia and Hugh were still screaming, but it somehow faded into the background. Jack’s ruby eyes were glued to Chase’s golden ones.
They were so sure.
They were so determined.
Chase still didn’t have an ounce of hesitation in his soul.
Maybe… just maybe, he should…
“Don’t you dare touch our property, buddy!” Hugh yelled. He took a cautious step forward but - to Jack’s surprise and horror - there was fear in the man’s eyes. “Lay one finger on it and I swear to God -“
“Jack, you imbecile, get away from him!” Georgia ordered. She tried to beacon him towards her but ended up flailing her arms like a beheaded chicken. “Do you have zero self-preservation?! I’ll kill you myself if you don’t get fucking over here, you idiot!”
Eyes flitting away, Jack looked at his bot. They hovered near him dutifully. They would listen to every word he said. They would execute every order to a T. They were programmed to. His Jackbot was perfect.
It was perfect down to the sawblade ambiently turning on its axis.
Hesitation, confusion, and a cocktail of hundreds of other emotions flashed through his mind. But the words those two spouted gave Jack clarity. He should’ve heard it long ago. But Chase was just the push he needed.
Body shaking, fists clenched, and fangs bared, Jack slowly grabbed his goggles back from Chase. Hands shaking, he slipped them on and over his eyes. Jack’s fangs pulsed - but for the first time in his life, he wasn’t itching to bite out of fear.
Voice barely a whisper, he muttered, “Jackbot…attack.”