[ drabbles ] worth my while ( lurks beneath ) fin tw: AWFUL

[its me debz]

tw: murder, gore, terrible things TERRIBLE THINGS

Location, Location, Location

It takes a while, before he picks a house that's just right. Too urban an area, too empty a home, no minipets, too many little ones.

He passes by in the middle of the night, claws tapping against the window panes, eyes luminous as they look inside, smiling to himself.

It takes some time-- a few days-- but he finds the perfect one, nestled in a valley, a cold place up in the North. There are many many minipets around the grounds, and a family of four contentedly sleeping in their beds.

It's peaceful. Tranquil, even.

But all of that changes, soon enough.  

[its me debz]

Good Morning, Sunshine

"Hello," he says to them, smiling a secret smile as he looms over them, perched at the foot of the bed. He has his arms draped over their daughter, a little thing, no more than a shivering pile of blankets.

"Mommy," she says, not smiling at all, eyes full of terror. There's a patch of scalp missing from where he'd pulled her along too roughly in the hall by the hair, a trickle of dried blood down her temple.

Lurks beamed, petting her hair with skeletal fingers, uncaring of the snags. "I want to play very very much," he says, spiders crawling from his mouth and onto the sheets, steadily marching ahead.  

[its me debz]

Still A Thrill

On the third day, he holds the daughter's hand, in his, his legs swinging. Her name is Smallest, because she is. The smallest, the least important, the most expendable, if her parents don't play the game.

"Say it again," Lurks says, his voice hitching in excitement, the same sort of glow that hits children right before they open a present and they've realise it's what they've wanted for days, weeks, months.

Both parents are pale, bruised, and haggard, sneaking each other furtive glances. She curls her fingers into her shirt, shoulders shaking. Tears drip down her nose, but she has the pride not to weep. Not when there's so much at stake.

"Monster." She does not meet his gaze (because it is harrowing, to a human: he is an unnamed creature of nightmare, rotting and dead, insects thrumming around him in a halo of shadows) and breathes soft, unable to continue.

Her husband touches her bruised hand with his, squeezing tight. "Honey," he says, tired. "Please."

Please is not enough.

Tightly, Lurks squeezes their daughter's hand (enough that she cries out--) and waits, wings fluttering softly behind him. The shadows grow longer and--with the darkest of intentions-- Lurks whispers: "I do not like having to wait. It's not how I want to play. You are being really. Really. Rude."

(They learn this the hard way, when he makes the false mother an example. Her spawn cries and cries and cries.)  

[its me debz]

A Reasonable Sacrifice

"You're so sad," he said to the little girl, the red still wet on his hands as he pets her face, reassuring. "Don't need to leak. He was just so loud, and kept making the sounds I hated." Luminous orange eyes tilt towards the parents, and he presses a chaste kiss to the daughters brow.

"Now! I am bored of this game. So it's time for a new one." He pointed at each of the figures in turn, stroking her hair not-so-softly. "Pick one."  

[its me debz]

Stuck Inside

There were only two, now, and they were both so despondent. It bored Lurks to tears, but he supposed he should get used to the idea of it. Keeping any large number of them was going to be a chore. He'd need to find a way to keep them restrained, but in a way that would give them enough freedom that they wouldn't cry nearly so much.

Why could they all just be like The Original? He had been grieving and hateful, but he had broken so wonderfully. There was little in his ancient mind that satisfied him so much as the thought of The Original eating out of his bowl.

"Come on," Lurks said to him, kicking at his ribs with a vicious fury, causing a vicious snap to echo in the air, followed by an abrupt sound of pain. "Do not be like this. It is very very easy to play. I explained the rules, and you just didn't listen very good."

The girl was locked inside a closet, for safekeeping.

Dissatisfied, Lurks Beneath rocked back on his heels, an idea suddenly springing forth like water from a fountain.

"Do humans know how to play lurk and wait?"

The human grunted, and Lurks took that as a yes.

"I put her away, in one of your many many little doors. I will let you go, and you try and find her! She is lurking and waiting, and you must try to find her. But you do not have very very long, you know. It is a fast game, sometimes."

Excitedly, Lurks righted the wounded animal, untying the bandages he'd used to restrain him.

"Oh, and. She cannot make any sound. I made sure! That should make this extra fun."  

[its me debz]

Bruised and Black and Lame

"I am sure he tried verrryyy hard to find you," Lurks crooned, petting her matted hair. "But he did not do good enough, and it is wrong to reward bad behavior. The Mother said so." She silently wept into her hands, shell-shocked and broken. In front of her laid his head, torn off just-so, wrenched free with a splatter, done with the help of a serrated edge of Lurks' scythe.

He tugged her upwards, and dragged her limply along with little regards to her safety, like a toddler with a teddy bear.

"It is polite to goodbye to what you leave behind," he said, gesturing to the ruined wreckage of her home. It was stained with blood and gore and sand, like the desert was slowly making its home here, an oasis of Famine blooming suburbia. Laced with danger, he added-- with a firm, too-tight grip on her shoulder, "do not be rude."

She did not look, but she slowly staggered to her feet, still crying without a sound. "G-" she choked, wiping at her eyes, wailing, "g-goo-goodbye, Mommy. G-good-goodbye Daddy. Goodbye Rex."

Lurks smiled, laughing suddenly, dropping her abruptly. "I was only playing! See? I am not going to take you. You need to grow up, and then I can come back. Later, when you are grown, with youngling of your own."

The smile widened, until all his teeth were visible from ear to ear, slowly fading into a legion of shadowy creatures, a swarm of moths swirling up to vaulted ceilings.

As he left, she would hear, curled in her ear like a soft, soft promise:

"And then I will come and see."