The room smelled funny. Musty, iron-y. Like...blood. At least he associated the smell with blood. He moved his head, a quiet groan escaping him. Ugh. where even was he? The surface around him was hard, and the floor felt uncomfortable under him. At the very least, his headache from the night before was gone. His eyes cracked open slightly. He was in a kitchen. It took him a few moments to realise it was the kitchen. The one he’d raided last night. He glanced to his side, realising with horror the fridge was still wide open too. ‘’Fuck-’’ 

And then the door across from him swung open. His head snapped to the side, staring with wide horrified eyes at the man standing in the doorway. Tall and muscular, Jeff could clearly see his strong arms due to the white wifebeater he was wearing. His black hair was messy and long, tied back in a ponytail. His skin looked burnt, discoloured in places, and his face adorned stitches on either side of his mouth. In an instant, his dark eyes were fixed on the smaller boy sat on the ground before they flicked to the fridge. 

‘’Ey, what the fuck?!’’ he stared at the fridge, as if in shock, before storming over. Jeff skittered backwards, away from the man who heavily reminded him of trailer parks he’d found himself sleeping in. He stopped at the fridge, rummaging around before his head snapped to the boy. He was glaring, angry as all hell. ‘’What the hell is your problem?!’’ 

Jeff flinched. ‘’I-I-’’

‘’You ate my damn jerky?!’’ 

Was- was he...was this guy angry about Jeff eating his beef jerky rather than breaking into his house? He didn’t have much time to think about it or say anything though, because he was abruptly grabbed and yanked up. He yelped, gripping the angry man’s wrist out of panic. ‘’What the hell?! Who the fuck do you think ya are, huh?!’’

‘’P-please I-’’ Jeff glanced around, desperately looking for a way out. God why did he have to put his knife in his backpack instead of his pocket?! His eyes fell on the doorway and they widened. More people were in the doorway! A teenage girl with bleached bangs and a much shorter boy with a...really weird face. But he wasn’t in any position to judge. ‘’Help!’’

‘’Stat what the fuck, are you doing.’’ the girl grunted. The man, apparently called Stat, snapped his head over to her. He snarled.

‘’Bitch ate my jerky!’’

‘’Yeah and you’re bein’ loud as fuck!’’ the girl snapped back. Her head snapped over to Jeff and her eyes narrowed. She strode over, her thick heels clomping against the kitchen tiles. She grabbed Jeff’s face, squeezing his cheeks and shoving her own face in his. He tried to pull away but her sharp acrylic nails dug into his leathery skin instead. She snarled, looking at him with disgust. ‘’Ew.’’ she eventually said. She looked at Stat. ‘’Put him down. He looks like he has a fuckin’ disease.’’

Stat growled and dropped Jeff. Still panicking, his head snapped to the side and he lunged for the window. The girl behind him yelped and snatched him, making a quiet noise that reminded him of a motor revving. She held him aloft with surprising strength and he squirmed in her arms. She suddenly smacked him before dropping him again. He yelped, holding his sore face in his hand, seething. His head panged and instinct seemed to suddenly kick in, making him swing his fist back and try a punch. The girl grabbed his arm and yanked him, sending him stumbling feebly into the counter.

‘’Nice one Lina!’’

He looked over his shoulder, taking in the room again. There were two other ways out. The back door, and the kitchen door which was wide open. He bolted for the kitchen door, past the weird-faced boy. Freedom and safety seemed to be right in his grasp, but then he smacked face first into a wall. With a feeble yelp he fell back, his gaze travelling up slowly. He froze.

That wasn’t a wall. That was a person. A giant as wide as he was tall. Eyes obscured by jet black hair, showing only a slit-mouthed smile. A terrified yell escaped him and he scampered back, whirling to his feet and bolting for the backdoor.

‘’Jesus christ someone gettim!’’ Stat yelled.

‘’Gettim yourself!’’ The girl, presumably named Praline, yelled back. Stat snarled and ran over, grabbing Jeff’s backpack and yanking him to the table. He yelped and thrashed, panicking like a wild animal. His head pounded, the voices filling it again and making him want to kick, punch, scratch, claw, bite- 

‘’What on earth is going on in here?! Stat! Oh dear lord is that a child?!’’ a new voice to add to the people Jeff was trying to identify and differentiate. It was higher pitched, with a southern drawl. Stat huffed, turning his head to the side. Jeff followed his gaze, glancing over at the door where two more people had joined the giant. He didn’t get a good glance at the other as he was distracted by the thinner, blonde man wildly gesturing and pointing at Stat. ‘’What do you think you’re doing?! Let go of him, the poor thing!’’

Stat’s face scrunched up in disgust. ‘’You stay outta this, ya fuckin’ fruit!’’

‘’PFFFT- HAH!’’

‘’Stay out of this Dally!’’ the blonde snapped his head over to the small boy from earlier before turning back to Stat. ‘’Let him go! Right now!’’

‘’Like hell I’m listenin’ ta you! You wanna fight or somethin’?!’’

‘’Stat,’’ another new voice. This one deeper and more relaxed, but still cautious. Jeff looked over at the voice’s owner. He was shorter and his face...half of it was obscured by black hair, and the other half looked horribly burnt. He padded toward Stat. ‘’Let the kid go.’’ he murmured. Stat scrunched his face up. It wasn’t until the man-giant crossed the kitchen and set a gigantic hand on Stat’s shoulder that he let go, shooting Jeff an unhappy look. Finally free from the angry trucker’s grasp, he sat up, looking around in fear. It was then he noticed something. All of them had...scars. Some similar to his own. Burns and a slit mouth. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. ‘’You okay there?’’ The half-burnt man’s voice made Jeff turn to him. He crawled back on the table, trying to put distance between himself and him. ‘’Did Stat hurt ya?’’

He paused for a moment. No, no he...hadn’t really been hurt. Stat was rough but- it would bruise at worst. He palmed at his face where he’d been smacked. ‘’...t-the girl hit me.’’ he finally mumbled. 

The half-burnt man seemed to study Jeff for a moment before turning to the blonde. ‘’Blondie,’’ he said. ‘’Can ya take him to your room? Away from the others.’’

‘’Of course,’’ Blondie turned to Jeff, smiling kindly. He held out a hand. ‘’Come on dear, let's get you away from these brutes, hm?’’ he shot a glare at Stat, who rolled his eyes. Deciding he’d rather be with the friendly southerner with the girly nickname than the angry truck park resident, Jeff clambered off the table and followed him out of the kitchen. He glanced around the house as they walked. It seemed big- that was the reason he’d even broken in here in the first place. The house was big, and big houses meant rich people, and rich people meant plenty of food. Blondie led him to a bedroom. As he stepped inside he looked around. 

The bedroom seemed cozy. A nice rug on the floor, vinyls on a shelf, ornate furniture. It seemed homey. Comfortable. ‘’Here we are,’’ Blondie murmured behind him. ‘’I’m terribly sorry about all the hassle in the kitchen- but you’ll be safer here.’’ he shook his head, muttering to himself. Jeff hesitated, then slowly walked over to a wall and leaned against it. Close enough to the door but still casual enough for it to look like he was relaxing. Sort of. Blondie walked past him and took a seat on the bed. Jeff glanced around. The room looked...harmless. No sign of weapons. Of course, there were objects that could be repurposed into weapons. The plastic flamingo on the bedside table looked particularly threatening.

Blondie looked him over for a few moments. Jeff shifted. He looked a mess and he knew it. Long black hair flying out every which way, scruffy stolen clothes, a black backpack that was torn and stained with mud and blood, not to mention his skin...leathery and white, scarred with a permanent smile. Blondie tilted his head, smiling kindly. ‘’What’s your name dear? If you don’t mind telling me.’’

Jeff stared back for a second. Names. He didn’t give his name away, not in situations like these. Too risky. Police knew his name. He wanted to get out of the house, preferably without killing anyone. Could he even fight his way out? With so many people? 

‘’...Nathan.’’ 

‘’Nathan! Wonderful to meet you dear,’’ Blondie held out a hand to him. ‘’I’m Blondie.’’’ he smiled. Jeff- or rather, Nathan, reached over and shook his hand. He looked at Blondie for a moment. He had scars on his face- he’d been too panicked to really give them more than a glance before, but now he could see that and they were faded to an extent. Two lines running up from either corner of his mouth and another running across the bridge of his nose, along with a couple others. Nathan’s eyes lingered on the scars on Blondie’s cheeks for a few moments too long. Long enough for Blondie to notice. He didn’t seem offended though. Instead he tilted his head. ‘’Would it...be okay for me to ask you a couple of questions, Nathan?’’

He hesitated for a second, then nodded. Blondie smiled. ‘’Good. For a start...how old are you?’’

He shrugged. ‘’...sixteen.’’

‘’Sixteen...’’ Blondie seemed to ponder on his age for a moment. Nathan shifted. He didn’t exactly look it- with his face mutilated and burnt, not to mention he didn’t exactly eat properly, so he hadn’t grown as tall as he probably should’ve. He looked away. ‘’And...where did you come from?’’

He glanced at Blondie. ‘’What do you mean?’’

Blondie furrowed his brows. ‘’What...made you come here?’’

Made him come here? What did that mean-? Nothing had...made him come there but- thinking about it...the past few weeks had been- weird. He kept going in a certain direction. Something in him wanted him to get somewhere. But that feeling, that need to keep moving was...gone. Replaced with a...weird contentment. ‘’I-I dunno…’’ he looked away. ‘’I mean I- I did break in because I wanted food…’’ he licked his dry lips, feeling slightly guilty. 

Blondie nodded, smiling kindly once more. It reassured Nathan slightly. ‘’That’s fine. You don’t have a home, do you?’’

He blinked, surprised by how blunt he was. Then nodded. ‘’No- no not really…’’ he shrugged. He looked at Blondie for a long moment. Something about this house felt- weird. Not a bad weird but...thinking about it now, Stat had been burnt, with scars on either side of his mouth. The giant monster that had scared the shit out of him earlier had the same scars he and Blondie did. Was that all a coincidence? That everyone here had the same scars as him? He opened his mouth, about to ask- what exactly he was going to ask he didn’t know but- either way he was interrupted by the door behind him opening. 

‘’We okay in here?’’ Nathan actually jumped in surprise. His head whipped around, staring at the half-burnt man from before with wide eyes. He relaxed a bit and gave a small nod, leaning against the wall again. The other man walked past him and sat on the bed beside Blondie. ‘’You got a name?’’

‘’N-Nathan.’’

He nodded. ‘’I’m Grease. Sorry about earlier. It’s nothing personal.’’ 

‘’Honestly- I don’t know why we still keep Stat around when he’s such a- such a ruffian!’’ 

Grease rolled his eye. Clearly he had heard this a few times too many. Instead he focused on Nathan. ‘’So, Nathan…’’ he looked him over for a long few moments. ‘’Can I ask ya something?’’

‘’Sure.’’

Grease shifted before he spoke again. ‘’Ya got Jeffery anywhere in your name?’’

Nathan froze. His muscles tensed, his eyes filling with fear. They knew. Or at least- Grease knew. He recognised him- he must have! He gulped. ‘’Li-Listen I-’’ he pursed his lips. ‘’I-I do okay but- listen I don’t wanna hurt anyone I-!’’ a feeble whimper escaped him. ‘’...please don’t call the cops…’’ 

Blondie frowned, sad at the boy’s panic. Grease shook his head. ‘’We’re not gonna do that.’’ he looked at Nathan. He was...reassuring, in an odd way. Fatherly. ‘’Promise.’’ Nathan gave a small nod, relaxing a bit. ‘’My name’s Jeff Bartosz,’’ he pointed at Blondie. ‘’Jeffery Devereaux.’’ 

Nathan paused. ‘’I-I’m...Jeff Woods. Nathan’s my middle name.’’ he frowned. ‘’Can I- uh- ask something…?’’

‘’Shoot.’’

‘’...where am I?’’ something was up. The same name? Similar scars and burns? ‘’Is this like...a cult or…?’’

Grease shook his head, smiling a bit. ‘’Not a cult, no,’’ he looked at Nathan for a long bit. ‘’...how about I explain that later, huh? You look like you could use some food first.’’

‘’And perhaps tea,’’ Blondie suggested. ‘’If you like it of course.’’

Nathan cracked a small smile and nodded. ‘’That- that’d be really good-’’ he slowly slipped his hands into his pockets. ‘’...thanks.’’

‘’Of course dear,’’ Blondie stood up and crossed the room. He paused at the door, looking at him. ‘’Do you like chai?’’

‘’Never had it.’’

Blondie chuckled. ‘’Well then I’ll introduce you, hm?’’