Chasing Shadows
A/N: IMPORTANT! XD. Hiya, my lovely readers! So! @italeean and I (Pax) have a running joke that Connor (the co-host of this blog) is a hybrid between a cat and a bat. That's literally what this story is. Call this semi-autobiographical (Like an IRL different AU XD). This is an absolutely self-indulgent crack oneshot writer-insert, keep in mind, so if you're looking for an actual good story, I'm so sorry XD. Anways, I hope you enjoy! Author(s): Pascal Casimir (Connor does not know I wrote this and will slaughter me shortly HEHEHE-) Genre: Fantasy fluff. Warnings: Absolute crack XD. Word Count: 4367
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Pascal's POV
Oh, the classic routine of a picked lock and the ballet of stealthy nighttime footsteps in my humble abode. It's practically a nightly serenade, an eerie prelude to some fantastically strange times. As the moonlight bathed my quarters in a bluish-pearl hue, I'd often wake up to find a certain lab rat supernatural hanging upside-down from my living room lighting fixture, his black, fur-lined wings cosily wrapped around his tall form.
Now, when you've been acquainted with Connor Dean for a spell (If that even is his real name…), you tend to pick up some… quirks… I mean, okay, when something not quite human randomly breaks into your home so often that he practically lives with you, what can you really expect? The first time it happened, I admit, I was (understandably) freaked the fuck out. Tell me, who wouldn't be? Imagine waking up to a being of both human, feline, and bat-like features breaking into your home at 3 AM, eyes gleaming with pure predatory vacancy, and a midnight masquerade spreading across his face like a cosmic curse. Yeah, it’s unsettling, to say the least… But, after going through this process a few times, I came to the really confusing conclusion that this… thing… kept breaking into my place because somewhere deep within his semi-fucked-up subconscious, he views this place like a safety blanket. The home of a crazed engineering student with a penchant for chaos, his safety space? Yeah, it didn't really make sense to me either… What the hell even is he? Well, that’s quite the tale, dear friends.
Connor Dean, if that’s the name we’re sticking with, is a hybrid creation of some twisted scientific experiment gone wrong – or right, depending on your perspective (I personally think right). He has the lithe and tail of a cat, the wings and echolocation of a bat, and, for the most part, the appearance of a young human man. His body, a canvas of splotchy black patterns reminiscent of an ink-tainted calico cat, becomes a gradient from brown to black at his elbows and knees down, ending in retractable-clawed human hands and feline back paws. This unique physiology gives him a surreal beauty, like a living piece of avant-garde artwork… Or the thing from Jeepers Creepers, you tell me.
Our initial encounter was uh… less than ideal. I’d been working on a particularly tricky coding project when my front door’s lock clicked open loudly. My first thought was a burglar. This is South Africa after all, anything can happen. Grabbing the nearest object—an oil-tainted wrench—I tiptoed to the living room, only to find Connor hanging upside-down from my lighting fixture, his pale grey-blue eyes reflecting the moonlight in an eerie, almost ethereal glow.
“Oi, cretinule! You wanna sit there, you’re gonna have to pay rent!” I’d shouted, holding the wrench defensively. He’d blinked at me, his expression, serene despite standing (hanging) before an armed human. “Just what in ringmaster’s top hat are you even supposed to be?!”
“Connor,” He’d reply simply as if that explained anything. In hindsight, it sort of did. That night, and the many nights that followed, became a peculiar blend of my engineering chaos and his supernatural existence.
Living with Connor is like living with a cat on steroids and angel dust. He’s curious to a fault, often knocking things off shelves or rummaging through my belongings in search of something to satisfy his endless desire to know shit. Yet, despite his predatory appearance, he’s surprisingly polite and reserved, with a formality that seems out of place for someone who breaks into homes, hangs from ceiling fixtures, and sucks the blood out of buck as a pastime.
One night, after he’d made himself comfortable on my sofa—an upgrade from the lighting fixture—I decided to get some answers.
“Why my place?” I remember asking, handing him a cup of lamb’s blood that I had bargained to death with the local butcher for. It was the only thing that seemed to truly calm him; well, apart from swinging upside down like a gravity-defying parrot or going full cat-mode and hunting something for sport only to bring me its carcass like some sort of trophy… Connor looked into the cup of crimson, then at me, his fluffy black tail flicking lazily behind him.
“There is safety here,” He would say, his voice silky without a note of rasp. “You refrain from asking too many questions.”
“Uh- is that supposed to be a compliment?” I chuckled at the irony.
“Take it as you will,” He would smile purposefully, revealing a sharp set of canines that were more cat than human.
Despite the oddities, or perhaps because of them, our arrangement kind of just… worked. I’d help him navigate the complexities of human life, and in return, he’d provide an endless source of amusement—and occasionally, chaos. Let me tell you, it’s not every day you get to teach a supernatural hybrid how to use a microwave or explain why humans don’t generally knock things off tables for fun. Somehow, he even managed to sneak into the med school five minutes away and actually attend the institute without being detected. I think it’s black magic. He states it’s because humans are quote, ‘often lost in their own worlds’ unquote.
Another thing about Connor is that he can be as silent and as still as water, fluid and agile in his movements when he doesn’t wish to be noticed. I, despite finding it a tad… concerning, begrudgingly respected this. On the days when I’d hear the click of my locks and nothing else, I wouldn’t acknowledge his presence. However, when he wanted my company, he’d make himself heard, stepping slightly louder and sitting on my sofa in a way that intentionally made the springs squeak just a little. In these cases, I’d happily join him. And so that brings us to tonight.
T a p . . . T a p . . . T a p . . .
The soft sound echoed through my quarters, a subtle serenade signalling the supernatural’s ghastly presence as well as my cue to rise. With a heave of effort, I not-so-gracefully emerged from my bed, padding to my door and scanning the room ahead to find that signatures position of him hanging from my light fixture, seeming to defy the laws of physics as the chandelier barely moved under his weight. What really made me stop for a moment was his eyes. Tonight, they weren’t their usual pearly grey appearance with oval slit pupils. No, tonight, they were small inkwells, black and vacant.
See, sometimes he’d get into these… moods… if you can even describe them like that. Moods where he suddenly wasn’t able to talk and is almost… more animal than person. I’ve aptly dubbed this phenomenon as Connor’s Primal State. During the Primal State, I can truly see his animal features outshine the human; from his fluffy ears spiking up and spinning slowly like satellites atop his head to his little echolocation clicks and hisses he makes every so often. Many times, during this state, he’d just curl up near my fireplace, his splotched feline tail wrapping around his slender body almost protectively. On these nights, when I knew he didn’t want my presence for an extended period, I’d leave out a fresh pitcher of lamb’s blood, which he’d gratefully sip from up once I’d retreat. I know he’d never attack me but my God, is it creepy… (Insert the Jeepers Creepers song). And so…
"Comfy?" I chuckled, taking a few steps closer so I was almost under the small chandelier. The lab rat flinched at the sound of my voice, his obsidian gaze peeping open flickering down to meet my own. "Pfft- oh, keep your head screwed on your shoulders, would you? It’s just me!" I reassured with a yawn, plopping myself onto the couch and tilting my head upward so I could properly see his eyes from down here. "You alright, there?"
“T-tch-tch tsk-tk tk,” Connor clicked his tongue in response. Fun fact, did you know bats click and chirp to communicate with each other? I sure as hell didn’t. It’s a language as mysterious as the Primal State he sometimes found himself in. Even linguistic experts like my Bunica can’t decipher a thing about the language. Luckily, he only really used it with me during his Primal State, so I didn’t have to get major headaches every time he wanted to talk to me. Despite the fact that I didn't understand a word he spoke, I nodded as if I did.
"Woah there… Can you say that again in English? Maybe Russian? Gods, I’ll even try my hand at Sanskrit," I teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere. The supernatural tilted his head at me, and let out a short chirp in response. "No?" I quipped, offering a kind smile.
" Tch-tch klick-tch-tsk-tch tsk-tk tk-tk. Hrr-ck—” He began to ramble on, his large ears flittering atop his head in displeasure (?).
“Oi, cool it, Dracula, you sound like a world-class beatboxer,” I snicker, making him hiss indignantly. “And get down from there, your anemic ass will faint.”
With a terse nod, Connor unfurled his jet-black wings slightly, making a soft rustling noise as they adjusted their grip on the chandelier. He stared at me for a moment longer before gracefully dropping to the floor, landing silently on the cat-like paws that were his feet. His dark eyes still held that unsettling void, but at least now he was within arm’s reach.
“Thanks!” I muttered, stifling another yawn. “You know, you’re the only houseguest who insists on using the ceiling as a resting spot…”
Connor didn’t reply, instead walking over to the small table by the fireplace where the pitcher of lamb’s blood sat waiting. Retracting his claws, he picked it up, the black gradient of his skin blending into the dim light of the room. His tail swished and flicked behind him, an almost hypnotic motion that added to his otherworldly aura. As he drank, I couldn’t help but study him. Despite the oddity of our situation, there was something undeniably fascinating about the creature. The splotchy patterns on his skin, the way his body’s movements transitioned from human to more animalistic, it was all so perfectly imperfect… And I’d be lying if I said a small part of me didn’t want to cut him open and take a look inside. Come on, can you blame me?
Connor set the empty pitcher down and turned to me, his eyes twitching slightly as he looked me up and down. He clicked his tongue a few times, the sound sharp in the otherwise silent room. Even in his Primal State, he seemed to appreciate the company, though he’d never admit it outright, even in his regular state.
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” I rolled my eyes fondly, leaning back into the couch cushions. “You know, it’s nights like these that make me wonder if I’m actually losing my mind or if I’ve just accepted that my life is a weird mix of fantasy and reality. And honesty? I’m not even mad.”
Connor tilted his head, his ears twitching slightly. He made another series of clicks, this time softer, almost comforting. It was his way of communicating that he understood, or at least that’s what I chose to believe. I sighed with a slight chuckle, running a hand over my long snowy-white braid. “Anywho! I got a big project due tomorrow, and I really should get some sleep.”
“Tch.”
“Hey, don’t give me that look, you insomniac! As is the life of a future scientist! Pfft- don’t you have med school in the morning? If you don’t snap out of Primal, I’ll have to call in sick trying to impersonate your voice,” I joke. The older being rolled his eyes at that. All of a sudden, he perked up, ears pinned straight up as he let out a low hiss. If he were in his regular state, his pupils would have expanded by now… I followed his gaze towards the window but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“What’s got your wings in a twist?” I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper. Connor didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as he crouched low, his tail flicking back and forth in agitation.
“HSSSS!” He let out an aggravated hiss, his ears pinned back against his midnight curls.
"Connor, something wrong?" I repeated, more urgently this time. His wings unfurled slightly, ready to take flight at a moment’s notice. Suddenly, there was a soft thud outside the window. I tensed, gripping the edge of the couch. Connor’s reaction was immediate. He launched himself towards the window with incredible speed, his wings spreading wide to navigate the narrow space.
“Kkr-tch,” He chattered, knocking against the glass softy.
“Jesus- Wait up! I called after him, but he was already gone, a dark blur against the moonlit glass.
I scrambled to my feet and ran to the window, peering outside at what he could have seen. The night was still, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear the faint rustle of his wings and the soft clicks of his echolocation. My heart pounded as I waited, straining to catch any sign of movement. The seconds stretched into minutes, and just as I was about to lose hope…
T H U D !
“JESUS-“ My head whipped to the window, where Connor reappeared, landing silently on the windowsill outside, having likely escaped through one of the other openings. He didn’t seem as restless at least, so that was good…
“… The hell was that about?” I asked, opening the window to let him in. He slipped inside gracefully, his wings folding neatly against his back as he made his way to the velvety sofa once more, sitting down. After I locked the window, I sat down to join him. I reached for his shoulder but he jumped upon contact, the fluff on his ears pricking.
“Hey, hey, easy there buddy-pal…” I lowered my voice, moving so that I was in front of him and fully in his line of sight. “Cool it. Nobody’s here… The scientists you hate? They’re nowhere near here. It’s just you and I, alone together in this room. The door is locked. The windows are locked. All entrances are sealed,” I spoke slowly and carefully so that he could fully process my words.
As if he were handling glass, Connor pressed a hand to my temple, as if making sure I was 100% real. He blinked at me, his pupilless eyes betraying no readable emotion. I simply blinked back, not needing to break the silence with unnecessary words. Slowly, I gently pressed my index and middle finger to his neck, checking his pulse. Despite his calmer appearance, his heart still raced against my fingers.
“Hey, turn around for me, would you?” I requested.
“Krr-tch-tch?” The taller being tilted his head.
“Just trust me! I’m gonna do what I used to do to my baby sister when she couldn’t sleep at night.”
“Tsk-ch-rr….” He huffed indignantly. I didn’t understand the clicks but I was Romanian; I knew that tone all too well.
“Okay, I know you’re an adult but you’re not you tonight, are you, you little punk?”
“Sch-ckr-tsk-tsk-tch.”
“Bitch, you did not just use that tone on me, nuh-uh, turn your ass around—” I grasped him by the shoulders and spun him around myself. “I’m going to touch you, okay?” I warned as I rested one hand on each of the taller boy’s fur-lined wings, gently but firmly kneading at the membranous appendages. I rubbed my thumbs into circles on the extra tense parts, feeling Connor melt like goo under my hands.
“Pfft- This good for you?” I snickered at his 180-personality shift. The hybrid simply huffed, refusing to answer me. “I’m gonna take that as a big fat yes,” I giggle, quickly reassured by the quiet purrs that tumbled out of him and the uncharacteristically blissed-out smile on his face. I moved my ministrations to focus higher on the older’s spine, rubbing firm but soft circles on each side and slowly moving down. After the initial flinch of surprise, the entity all but melted into the sofa, purrs becoming quieter and quieter until they were replaced by laboured breathing as his head dipped down and ears folded against his head, his eyes shut in contentment. “Holy crap, I just put a literal supernatural being to sleep…” I chuckled to myself, retreating to my bedroom and leaving the door open just in case the hybrid stirred.
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My eyes fluttered open against the soft glow of the sun streaming through my blinds. I stretched my arms up and arched my back away from my comfy mattress in a deep stretch, quickly getting myself out of bed to check on Connor. His Primal State never lasted over a twenty-four hours, so there was a solid 50% chance he’d be back to normal right now, stirring away on my sofa.
The soft morning light filtered brighter through the curtains as I made my way to the living room, my steps quiet so as not to startle the resident lab rat. The entity was lying still on the sofa, his black eyes stared at the ceiling with an otherworldly gaze, though he was still definitely asleep by the way they were glazed over. As I approached, I observed the subtle rise and fall of his chest, indicating the rhythm of his breath, a silent assurance that he was, at least physically, at peace. However, I had to interrupt this blissful moment for his own sake. Regular Connor barely ate as is, so knowing that bastard, Primal State Connor probably didn’t either. Meaning, I’d have to use my skills as an older sibling to get some food in him. Luckily, I knew how to wake him… With a devious grin, I took a deep breath in.
“MA IL MIO MISTERO E CHIUSO IN ME—”
“HSSSSS! “ The supernatural, bolted upright with a gasp, glaring daggers at me. I smirked while he gazed up at me, giggling as the last traces of sleep left his empty eyes. “Tch-hrk-tsk….”
“Rise and shine to you too,” I snicker, ignoring that he was probably cursing me out in his little clicky language. Connor snorted and shook his head, standing up on wobbly legs.
"Alrighty, let's get some food in you before you up and pass out again," I decided, grabbing his wrist gently to stabilize him before heading to the kitchen together. I was aware of the other’s slight aversion to food, having never seen him eat… like ever (Jeepers Creepers confirmed???). A simple blood pack would have to do… God, my butcher probably thinks I’m a freak... “Okie-days, I need you to eat," I said, holding up the blood pack. Connor’s eyes flickered to the pack, and for a moment, I saw a mix of curiosity and reluctance in his gaze.
"Tsk-tch-tch-rrk?” He mumbled, his voice still carrying a note of scepticism.
"Yeah, it's just blood,” I snicker. “Don’t ask why I have it. It'll help keep you going, at least until you're back to your usual self," I explained gently, tearing open the pack and handing it to him. He took it hesitantly, his fingers trembling slightly. His eyes sharpened as he gazed at the packet, looking at me and then at the blood back again.
“Hrrk-sk-?”
“No, it’s not poisoned, you big baby. I removed the seal in front of you,” I cut him off, rolling my eyes in amusement as his left eye twitched. Connor kept the blood pack close to his chest, though he didn’t make a move to drink it. I sighed. If this bitch was gonna act like a child, I was gonna treat him like a child. “Cons, if you don’t drink that, you’ll be grumpy,” I deadpan, turning my big sibling mode on. Connor tilted his head, lips parting slightly in “innocent” confusion.
“Tch?” He chirped, offering me the bag, making me chortle.
“I don’t need to eat that, buddy, but you do. Drink up.”
“Sk-tch-krr-krr-tsk-hrr…”
“I don’t know what that means, but I’m going to assume it’s you being a stubborn bastard…” I grin, playfulness lacing my voice. “No matter,” I sigh, rolling up my sleeves. “I can just make—”
F W I P ~!
“You…” I trailed off as Connor disappeared from my line of sight, leaving nothing in his wake but a faint gust of displaced air. Wait, since when could he--?! Is this his Primal State or is this just Connor going God-mode?! What the Hell?! Well there goes my breakfast buddy… My mind raced with all sorts of questions.
“Connor! You can’t just do that!” I exclaim to nobody, chuckling despite myself. As if his weird bat and cat characteristics didn’t jump out at me enough, I always seemed to forget his uncanny ability to disappear into the shadows whenever he pleased. With a sigh, I gathered myself and focused on locating him. Suddenly, I had an idea. Come on years-of-watching-cat-videos-instead-of-studying … don’t you screw with me on this…
“… Pspsps,” I clicked my tongue like a human calling for their kitten. Nothing.
It was like searching for a needle in a haystack… Every time I clicked, I heard the faintest of hisses from the other side of the house. God, it was like a game of Marco Polo with a fucking demon. I followed the faint sounds, weaving through the shadows of the living room and into the bathroom and my bedroom. Nothing. Needing to take a breather for a moment, I retreated back to the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the bar stools near the island. All of a sudden, I felt a shiver creep up my spine as if I were being watched. My eyes shot open, darting around the space, down, left, right, up, until-
“WHA-?! Bitch- How did you even get up there!” I exclaimed in an exasperated tone as I gazed up at Connor… who was seated on top of my fridge, happily sipping away at his blood pack. It was a slow movement, but at least the act was being performed, and for that, I couldn’t be more grateful. “Jeez, I’d be absolutely amazingly impressed if my heart wasn’t resting at 160…”
“Hrrk-tch. Tsk-hr-tch-tch.”
“Nope, don’t even wanna know what that means,” I chortle, running my fingers through my chalky locks. I carefully approached the fridge, my eyes fixed on Connor, who was perched atop it like an otherworldly gargoyle.
“Okay, you know me, I’m all for chaotic whimsey, but why the fridge of all places? You’re like a kitten… or a bat pup… in a 6’2 body,” I quipped, raising an amused brow.
“Sksksk-tch-tsk-tsk-tchsk,” He responded with an innocent smile, making me roll my eyes fondly.
“You know what? Fine, I get it. Now get down from there, you strange creature…” I smile in jest, giving him some space to get down. Connor gave me a pleased nod and hopped off the fridge, seeming to fall about a few seconds slower than he should have before his paws hit the ground with a whisper-soft thud. Connor straightened himself up, looking rather pleased with his little stunt. I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Here was a being everyone described as robotic and icy… busy grinning at himself like a child.
“Well, Cons, at least you’re still entertaining, even in your Primal State,” I teased, crossing my arms and leaning against the kitchen island.
He responded with a tilt of his head and a quizzical expression, the innocent curiosity in his eyes making him look almost childlike. It was a stark contrast to the calculating and cold demeanour he often wore when fully conscious.
"So… what brought you up there? Just felt like getting a bird's eye view of the kitchen?" Connor seemed to consider the question for a moment before responding.
“Ckr-krr-tch, skskch-hrrk. Eee…” His words were accompanied by a gesture toward the ceiling, emphasizing the height.
"Observing the refrigerator... because it harbours greatness. Got it, buddy," I responded, pretending to understand. Normal Connor had a way of making even the most mundane things sound profound due to his formality. Just because he’s primal now doesn’t mean he’s a savage… The hybrid nodded with a content expression, clearly pleased with the explanation, even if I had no clue what he meant.
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As the hours passed, Connor seemed to gradually come out of his Primal State. The charcoal of his eyes began to regain their regular steel hue, pupils returning to their slit-like appearance. He became more responsive to my words, transitioning from his bat-like chitters to broken English and then finally to his usual pristine command over the language. It was like watching a timelapse of a toddler growing up, and I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. This went on for a while, until…
“Pascal, what on Earth am I doing in your quarters…?” Connor spoke, his left eye blinking a second before his right as he attempted to centre himself. Ah, lost time and memory loss… the final symptoms of Connor’s Primal State. Connor wouldn’t remember the state he was in nor his actions whatsoever, like a chunk of time had been ripped from his mind. “Ugh… my cranium…”
"Yeah, you kind of... blacked out," I quirked an eyebrow, weaving a narrative that masked the true nature of his weird-ass Primal State. "Anemia pills, my friend. You should really take them."
"Ah, duly noted..." Connor muttered, rubbing his eyes furiously. I grinned, relishing the sense of accomplishment in guiding him through the delicate transition. Maybe one day, he’d actually be aware of his altered-conscious nightly escapades. Until then, I'd be right there when I heard the familiar click of the lock and the soft padding of paws in the night. Good boy, Connie ^^.
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I don't suppose anyone enjoyed this short? XD
LOLZ IT WAS GREAT!
LOLZ WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS?!
