#puke thing

what is my not boyfriend? Oh, Telly? They're, uh.. he's, um.... Okay-er now. Definitely. I'm gonna tell you something weird and maybe even disturbing, and you probably won't believe me, but [inhale] here goes..

When we got back, those, uh, they look like infected veins but I guess are more like invasive vines the way they just. Showed up on him? Anyway, they got worse, brighter, straining against their skin like they were gonna burst through like in fucking alien. Once we were inside he didn't seem at all like itself, almost trance like, eyes wide and searching but the rest of him was.. blank. I tried snapping him out of it but I just couldn't get through. Somehow, I guess, they decided it found what he was looking for and went straight for the closet where-- and this is part where you'll probably start thinking I'm nuts-- where I had this creepy small dog sized monster was tied up. I tried killing it but it. Wouldn't. I don't think it knows how. I don't know if that makes sense, I don't care, but nothing I have done to it has had any real effect. It just keeps coming back.

But he found it somehow, felt it. And tried letting it out, I told them it was dangerous and shouldn't be messed with but he wouldn't listen and the way it was looking at me I knew he wasn't gonna listen. So he opened the door and pulled that fuckass little demon from its prison of plastic bags and anything that could be used to tie it in place. A lot of it was half melted, the thing itself whining and hissing like it was finally dying but when... when he held it, entranced gaze fixed solely on it, it stopped. And he stopped. I don't know how long I just stood there and watched that bizarre exchange of silences but it felt like hours. I could almost see the telepathic buzz they used to communicate to each other. The air was so still yet so charged, carrying a frequency only they would understand.

"I wish a doctor could fix this. I wish anyone could fix this," he thinks. He furrows his brow, lips pressed in focus, and finally parks.

He helps Neoptolemus out of the car and props him up on their way up back to that cursed little apartment. Neighbors curl their mouths in concern at these strange passer-bys but say nothing and let them walk.

Is he just getting tired or is Neoptolemus getting heavier? Their breathing is definitely heavier, its breath more ragged and gasping but he's still walking. Those red vines infesting him are getting brighter again, and twisting more--

How did that thing get out!? There's nothing around the apartment to show there was any struggle or even that it was ever locked up at all-- why is it sitting in the middle of their home, why is it grinning like its won!?

It pounces right at Neoptolemus' chest and they.. let it. They drop to his knees and let whatever this monster is imbed itself into him and Zosimos can only look on, nerves frozen in place, mind screaming to save them. But he can only watch as Neoptolemus lets it dissolve through their clothing, through his skin, seeping into muscles. Those unnatural and wicked vines seem to reach out to the creature, joining to it, taking root in it as in Neoptolemus. It hisses, its only verbal communication, before diving straight for their heart, a final attack, one Neoptolemus finally reacts to: a broken yelp, face between blank and shocked.

How long does he stand there listening to every crunch and slurp this vile, miserable little fucker makes? How long does he watch his best friend's blood pool in deep, ruby puddles around their neck, staining his blonde hair like an amateur dye job? How long does the smell of rot and iron hang in the air, pervading his lungs like the smoke he breathes?

How long has he been staring at the ceiling replaying this awful dream over and over?

"It was so vivid.. I guess they're all so vivid but... aarrrrrrgggghh!!! Stupid fucking nightmares!! Nothing bad happened, went off without a hitch! Why does my stupid fucking brain insist on dreaming messed up stuff?!?!?!?!?!"

A pillow is pulled over his face.

He runs out the door while pulling up directions.]

The call goes to voicemail and after his own, he hears the familiar, if hoarse and breaking, voice of Neoptolemus: "hell o, Zosiim mos . Um m , I m gon ing to stay the nnight wit h .... A freiend . Pleease , call mee bback . "

He manages to flip over and onto his hands and knees. The sick mass sticks and spreads across his chest, tight but there's still some breathing room. He gets on his feet, running hunched, half crouched.

When he replays the message the creature loosens its grip on Zosimos, almost leaning into the sound of Neoptolemus' voice, almost distracted from continuing the fight it started.

Zosimos takes his chance and tries to pry it off of himself: it makes a strangled sound, coming half way off. Holding it back with his left hand, he swings with his right, knocking it off and flailing under his firm grip (despite the burning sensation). He grabs something, anything close by: a knapsack, and tries to stuff it inside.

In the scuffle Zosimos drops his phone, playing the voicemail yet again, calming this small monster.

Huh.....

[the small, ragged creature leaps at Zosimos, its hyper and uncoordinated efforts allow Zosimos to smack the vile thing mid-air, flinging it to the ground. Why is it so warm? and ..wet? Why was the thud so fucking loud? Oh shit it's still moving--

He grabs the closest possible weapon-- a broom? Fine, a broom.

He readies the broom like a bat and swings when it starts skuttling again, how is it moving like that? it doesn't have any legs?? The thing lets out a sound somewhere between breathy squeal and a sickly wheeze when hit and runs off under the couch.]

GARRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHGHHGGHGG WHO'S BRILLIANT IDEA WAS IT TO TAKE HIM TO A HOSPITAL????? THEY WON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND

Christ, what a mess, bike's in the fucking shop, can't find Tel's damn car keys, I don't know wh--

[a small shadow darts out from the corner of Zosimos' eye, quick but close enough to be known]