A Zelda theory/headcanon I've had for years, and one that I've never seen anyone else come up with, is the idea that Zelda 1 Princess is NOT the reincarnation of the girl we get in every other game. Instead the reincarnating soul was trapped in the Sleeping Zelda all this time.
So anyway, I like to think that Zelda 1 Zelda earned the Triforce of Wisdom by screwing over Ganon in a similar way the Hero of Winds earned the right to be a Hero.
(Tagging Linked Universe and Wisdomverse because those AUs are what got me thinking about this old headcanon of mine.)
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CW: Typical whump stuff, such as violence and mild gore? Also descriptions might evoke spidery imagery. I can't think of anything else, please let me know if I missed something!
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Eldwin ducked behind a corner, narrowly avoiding another brick that hurled through the air. He leant against the wall, his hand firmly pressed to a deep gash on his arm. He'd hardly noticed the wound when it occurred, but taking a few moments to breathe he could feel its sharp sting, watched the red blossoming in his once-white sleeve.
A piercing screech drowned out the screams of civilians as they tore through the streets in a mad panic. He covered his ears with a wince. He'd be hearing a ringing for weeks.
Puddles of oil seeped into the cobblestone from shattered streetlamps, and city wardens fought to put out the fires while others attempted to control the evacuations. Bullets fired at the beast bounced off its body like rubber.
The beast roared, raising a huge arm that punched clean through the outer wall of a building sending debris flying clattering to the ground, drowned out by a high-pitched scream.
Eldwin steeled himself before he dashed back into the fray. A towering figure loomed over a woman who stared up at it frozen, fear and horror embedded on her face as it raised its fist-
A knife embedded in the side of its neck. The creature reached up, and pulled the blade from its flesh, a thick, black substance oozing from the wound which began to weave itself together. The woman was forgotten; slowly the beast turned to face Eldwin.
It was easily over ten feet tall with huge pincers that click-click-clicked as it destroyed everything in its path. Its upper-half had a muscular humanoid torso with hoary skin, and four arms thick as tree trunks punched through brick like it was nothing, crushing stones in its enormous fists. A bulbous lower-body scuttled around on eight legs each about the size of Eldwin himself and protected by an armoured shell reminiscent of a crabs. But the worst part was its face, if you could even call it that. For where there should be a recognisable face there were only eyes - hundreds of eyes, entirely black reflecting everything they looked at. It was like staring into a void, except the void stared back.
"Hey there." Eldwin held his hand up in a lazy wave. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He threw a glance to the woman. A warden grabbed her arm and carefully coaxed her away, his terrified gaze fixated on the monsters back. Coward.
Eldwin stared back into the monsters eyes - or rather just one, really, there were far too many - and hummed idly. "And here I thought this was set to be a dull night. Does the festival annoy you too? Or are you just looking for some fun?"
The beast cocked its head, and Eldwin stared straight into its eyes. A dozen copies of himself, and nothing behind him. His own eyes flickered to behind the beast; the warden and the woman had gone.
A rush of warmth filled him as he called his aether forth, keeping his stance visibly relaxed. The beast stepped forward, and no sooner had it done so was it hit square in the chest by a raging green fire which swallowed it whole. It staggered back with a guttural howl, crashing into the walls over debris it had created. It clawed at its own body, encased entirely in flames. Eldwin watched, hearing the quick, steady thrum of his own heart, feeling the blood coursing through his veins. His body was weightless as his aether pulsed strong, soothing, wrapping around him like a warm embrace.
After a few moments passed, he raised his hand and curled his fingers into a fist, snuffing out the flames with practised ease.
His stomach dropped. For where there should have been nothing but the lingering scent of burned flesh, the creature still stood strong. Its breathing was heavy, flesh unmarred, and from where it stood tall it stared down, hundreds of black eyes boring into him, reflecting a dozen copies of his new target.
Well, shit.
Eldwin took a slow step backward.
And then another.
The creature let loose its infernal, ear-splitting screech, and he bolted.
It was fortunate the district had mostly evacuated for the beast left a trail of destruction wherever it went, brick walls left crumbling to dust. It looked like there had been an earthquake, the force of its might making the cobblestone roads crack and upturn. Bodies littered the ground of fools whom had tried to fight, or civilians who weren't quick enough to escape. Eldwin scooped up the sword of a fallen warden as he ran. Where to go, where to go? The roads were too narrow. He needed more space, while keeping the creature on his tail. What he was going to do with it, he didn't know. There was no time to make a plan.
He sharply rounded a corner, eyeing a factory in the distance. That one was out of use for over a decade, shut down and condemned. He didn't have to look back to know the beast was following him. Get to the abandoned factory, and then he could go all out. The fire didn't do it. The fire didn't do it.
Why didn't the fire do it?
He already knew the answer. He pushed it into the back of his mind, a sense of foreboding creeping in. Focus.
He used the flames to burn down the iron gate, turning it nothing in an instant. That would bring irritating questions, but slow and clumsy as the beast was, he wouldn't waste a second.
The factory yard was large and desolate, perfect. The fire seemed to hurt the monster, but didn't actually damage it, not enough. He might need to injure it more first. And exhaust it. He turned around, clutching his sword. The beast was huge, Eldwin couldn't reach its chest, let alone its head. He eyed the hard shell of the legs. Cut off the legs on one side, it will lose balance. He's not sure his sword will be enough to cut through. He could try to freeze it, and shatter it, but can he make it cold enough? No, that probably wouldn't work.
He was wasting too much time.
The beast raised its arms to strike. Eldwin leapt back, flickering out of view as an illusion of himself remained in place, staring the beast in the eyes. A few more appeared, surrounding the beast in a circle. It's swinging fist went straight through, and the illusion disappeared as though dispersing into smoke.
While it was distracted, Eldwin took the opportunity. He ran to one of its back legs, and with all his strength pierced the edge of his blade into the fleshy part of the leg, where it met the body. Even with his sword, the flesh was tough. Within a few seconds though, the leg fell to the ground with a splat, thick, black blood oozing onto the floor.
The creature howled and stumbled, trying to quickly turn around. It lunged for one of the illusions as Eldwin went for the next leg. It kicked out, clumsy and likely unintentional, but it still sent him falling into the dirt, sword slipping from his grasp.
Idiot! Should've accounted for that. Pain shot through his wrist as he pushed himself up, and the ground shook, the beast looking down upon him. No face to speak of, but if there was, Eldwin was sure it would be twisted with rage. Its chest heaved, and a strange growl sounded from its throat. It clicked its pincers, approaching. Eldwin scrambled to his feet, staggering back and he reached out, thick ice forming around the creatures lower half, meant to buy only a few seconds. It didn't even do that. The beast broke through immediately.
An arrow whistled through the air, embedding itself in the back of the beast which screeched again, swinging its fists wildly. Frankly, Eldwin would be surprised if the incessant ringing ever stopped. Still, if he could push past the pain and vertigo, there's his precious few seconds. He made a run for his sword, and the earth was tipping beneath him but he made it, he grabbed it and took a second - two seconds, maximum - to catch his breath, adjusting his hold on the intricate hilt. His eyes darted around, checking the beast, still far enough away, while looking for the source of the arrow. Maybe some of those useless wardens finally remembered what they're getting paid for. But arrows?
Eldwin left an illusion where he stood, blending in with the darkness to quickly creep behind the beast, going for the second leg. He was prepared, this time, and with a burst of strength, aether burning every muscle, every nerve - he sliced through the flesh with more ease, blood spurting through the air. He was quick to shut down the boost, a heavy throb in his limbs after only a few seconds.
A pulsing ache rushed through his skull, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. The air felt suffocating, and for a horrifying second the beast suddenly duplicated, another appearing out of nowhere to stand beside it - Eldwin blinked, and it slowly merged back into one.
Shit.
He probably had about another minute, maybe one minute and thirty seconds, of the strength boost. It would exhaust him, but he was already low on energy, and damaged. This had to end now, one way or another.
Another arrow struck the beast, this time in the shoulder. It was soon followed by another. The beast roared and ripped them out, furiously looking for the source. Eldwin took a deep breath - one, two, three - and that rush of aether flooded his body, concentrating in his legs and his blade wielding arm. He moved fast, slicing the third leg and the beast stumbled but didn't fall. In the darkness, another figure could just about be seen approaching rapidly, and Eldwin thought yelling could be heard in the distance, but maybe it was in his head.
A bolt of green fire encased the creatures head, earning a screech, and the momentary distraction he wanted. The fourth leg splattered to the ground, and the beast stumbled back, still fighting the fire that blocked its vision, before it hit the ground with a heavy thud that shook the earth around it. The fire spread, encasing its body as Eldwin slowly walked up from behind, to where he knew the neck was. The legs kicked, and the arms thrashed, and before it could even let out another screech and the blade sliced clean through its neck. Then it pierced the heart, for good measure. The sword clattered to the ground, and Eldwin swayed where he stood, taking a shaky step backwards as he snuffed out the flames, his energy spent. He waited, a building pressure in his skull, the world muffled and unsteady. But the beast didn't move. It didn't burn; but it didn't move. A pool of thick blood like tar spilled from his wounds, a gentle steam rising from it when suddenly, the corpse burst into flames - not Eldwin's abyssal fire, no, this looked normal. Except, slowly, it managed to burn through what Eldwin could not.
There was definitely talking, now. Stay focused. There were footsteps, and yelling. Someone was approaching him. He whipped around to face them, raising his arms to attack, feeling his weak aether rush forth - then he crumpled to the floor, and the last thing he felt was someone's hands grabbing him before the world went black.
I have written another oneshot!!! (Technically I wrote it a while ago but Iâd also just self promoted my other one shot and I didnât wanna bombard you with my nonsense but anyway)
This oneâs for the sifloop enjoyers
Called Howâs That For Touch Therapy?
Itâs uhâŠ. Yeah itâs almost exactly what it sounds like. Click the title to go check it out!!!
My slightly bigger project. So many things have messed up with me getting to work on it but now Iâm back on track!
A big thank you to @fandomwhirlwind being both my beta reader and the one who had this idea in the first place. I appreciate you!
Given Iâll be getting back into a better routine, this one will ideally be focused on on Fridays (no guarantee but if I donât give myself a timeline I get horrible sidetracked)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I had a dream about a girl in a not too distant future. she was tall and broad shouldered like me, making her way in a place that treated her as an afterthought at best. She worked in the bowels of a massive city, in the dark streets and alley ways far from the shining neon high above. She wore white platform heels, a short white skirt, a white leather jacket, and a long, white, puffy scarf. Her blonde hair was always up in a messy ponytail and her bangs were almost covering her eyes. In the blackness of the sublevels she worked in, she shone like a guiding light. As was her intention, of course.
Surviving in a city such as this is enough to make anyone hard. You simply can't survive if you can't numb yourself to what you'll see, what you might have to do. Sex work brought its own unique set of dangers to an already hungry city. But despite all that, the girl never became jaded. Even when she smiled at potential clients, it was genuine. Her playful grin shone brightly in her eyes, and her rich laugh could make anyone blush. Maybe that was why she excelled at this work. In a city of sorrows, she was an angel for hire.
I don't remember much else. Something about her having to go after one of her friends who disappeared after a call gone awry. I dreamed in third person, but I think the girl might have been me. At the very least, I felt a strong connection to her. I might have to make something of her. Her strength compels me to write her into being, to give her a full story.
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Sometimes tragedies are out of our control, even if theyâre foreseen.
TW: Blood, gore, mild drug use, death, animal death
> Word count: 6,833
> Wanted to make a fic for Shmorp-mcdurgenâs Alt au. I started this in March.
   All it took was a calm spring day for it all to go wrong.
  Not entirely, Casey knew this was possibly over a week in the making. It was just one day when the pieces finally fell into place.
   Their little brother always tended to run off and do his own thing, thatâs just how he was, but he hadnât been gone for this long before. And with the reports of kids going missing or being found dead, there was cause for concern.
   Casey wondered when they shouldâve spoken up.
  Was it when Andy had gone out? It was early enough to see the trail he left in the grass, the dew giving everything a paler tint except where it had been disturbed. The mourning dove coos and gentle breeze made the day seem perfect.
   Was it when their mum had made lunch? It wasnât unusual for him to skip meals. To any kid his age playing is more important than food. Their mum just shrugged and put Andyâs portion in some Tupperware for him to eat later, like she always did.
   Was it when mid afternoon was reached and they still hadnât heard anything from him? He did tend to lose track of time, Casey remembered the times they both played in the woods on the property long enough to give their mum a stroke. That always earned them a scolding from their dad.
  Andy couldnât have lost track of time for that long by himself, but he had been spending the last few days talking to an imaginary friend. When a kidâs imagination gets like that itâs like time doesnât exist.
  Was it when their mum started calling neighbors, and their dad went out to search the property? They hadnât seen either of their parents much throughout the day, but they had so many chances to say something. And yet they kept quiet, letting the weight on their tongue keep them from speaking.
  Maybe Casey shouldâve said something before today even started.
  Maybe they shouldâve mentioned what they saw with the chickenâs bodies. They werenât just being caught and dragged by some wild animal, animals donât do all of that and not eat them.
  Maybe they shouldâve mentioned when Andy was staying up past his bedtime, saying he just wanted to keep talking to his friend. Some nights he even snuck through the house. Casey could hear more whispers than there shouldâve been whenever he passed their door.
  Maybe they shouldâve mentioned the things they were hearing inside and outside the house, sounds of things being moved around and calls they couldnât connect to any animals to.
  It was sunset when their dad returned, their mum had already left for the police station to report Andy missing. She was already tearing up when she left the house, nobody she called were of any help.
  Now sheâs probably shrieking at whichever poor soul that was working the front desk. Casey couldnât blame her, theyâd do the same.
  But they arenât there, theyâre at home, sitting on the couch, doing nothing.
  They looked up at the sound of their dad getting up from the dinner table. Looks like he just finished the leftovers. They got a sour taste in their mouth, those were for Andy.
   He walked over to the sink, dropping his fork and turning on the water. Casey could feel the weight on their tongue get heavier. If they said something now it wouldnât change much, would it? Itâd be too late to do anything if what they thought happened was true.
   It didnât really matter how the chickens were dying anyways, something was still eating them. They didn't know how big it was, nobody had seen it.
   What if it was big enough to consider Andy prey?
   Caseyâs stomach dropped. They looked at their dad again.
   He had grabbed the sponge on the counter and was cleaning the Tupperware. He hadnât made a sound since heâd come back to announce that he hadnât found anything.Â
   Caseyâs fingers found the hem of their shorts, messing with the fabric. They swallowed, preparing themself for their dadâs reaction to the question in their mind.
   âDad?â
   Their dad hummed, still cleaning the container.
   âDo you think⊠the thing thatâs been getting the chickens-â
   They startled at their dad slamming the plastic into the sink. Their anxiety already beginning to spike.
   âDo Not Finish That Sentence Casey,â he said, tense. âWe ainât thinking about that.â
   They looked down at their hands, still on their shorts. They tried to calm down but it didnât stop the pit forming in their stomach.
   The sound of a car door slamming shut signaled their mumâs return from the station. The sound of gravel crunching quickly changing to the wood of the porch meant she was probably speed walking to the house.
   âDonât you bring that up to your mom either.â Their dad turned off the sink. âSheâs already scared enoughâ
   Casey swallowed. They felt like they were going to puke.
   The front door opened, their mum practically slapping the keys onto the table next to the door. Casey didnât look up, they didnât want to see what state their mum would be in from her visit to the station. Knowing the policeâs reputation, she wasnât told anything good.
   She sped past them to the hallway, they could hear her looking through the cabinet. The rattle of pills told them exactly what she was doing. Casey wished she wouldn't get high right now, this wasnât the time for it.
   They looked up as she walked to the kitchen, past their dad who had already sat back down at the dinner table.
   âYou find anything?â She sounded tired.
   âIs he here?â Their dad gestured to the room. âNo? Then thereâs your answerâ
   âCan you not be like this right now?â
   Their mum turned to the cabinet, opening it and taking out a cup. She put the handful of pills on the counter as she turned on the sink. She sighed.
   âThe station wasnât much help, but at least heâs officially reportedâÂ
   She filled the cup with water and turned off the sink. She turned around, leaning against the counter.
   âWas so close to grabbing that copâs pretty, white hair and ripping it out. Maybe then theyâd spend less time blabbing about protocol and paperwork and actually do somethingâ
   She scooped the pills off the counter, and took them all at once. Lifting the cup to her mouth and drinking. Casey felt both anxious and tired at the sight.
   Their dad huffed.
   âDoing paperwork and following protocol does more than sitting around popping painkillersâ
   âOh really? Like you did anything, how long have you been sitting there? Donât think I didnât notice the Tupperware you left in the sinkâ
   âI told you I didnât find anything,â their dad growled. âI spent hours going through these woods and all I found was some more chicken corpsesâ
   Their mum sat for a second, then paled at a realization.
   âOh god wait, that thing thatâs been eating the chickens, what ifâŠâ She turned to Casey, making eye contact with them. âWhat if it got Andy?â
   So much for keeping that thought to themself.Â
   âGod dammit, we canât think about shit like that right now!â Their dad raised his voice louder. âHow many times do I gotta tell the two of you! Thinking about shit like that gets nothing done!â
   âSitting on your ass doesnât get shit done either!â Their mum shrieked. Casey bit their tongue.
 Fighting doesnât get anything done, but if they said that out loud their parents would turn their anger to them. They didnât want that.
 A sound from outside got Caseyâs attention.
   âMomma! Help me!â
   Casey felt their throat close up. That was a kidâs voice outside.
   âHey, mum? Dad? I- I think somebodyâs outsideâ Casey winced at the stutter, hopefully their parents wouldnât focus on it.Â
   They both stopped arguing.
   âMom! Dad! Help! It hurts!â
   Andy?
   âMom! Please!â
   There wasnât any denying it was Andyâs voice butâŠ
   Something felt wrong.
   âDiane wait-â
   Their mum rushed outside, the front door rattling from the force of it hitting the wall.
   Casey stared at the open door.
   âShit-â their dad sped to the front door. âDIANE, DIANE DONâT JUST RUN OUT THEREâ
   They were still staring at the door as he ran out to follow their mum. Something about this whole situation made dread pool in their gut. If heâs hurt, then what hurt him?
   They heard their mum scream.
   âCASEY GET THE GUN!â
   Casey startled at their dadâs yelling, panicking for a second before processing what he said. Their mum was still screaming. Something else was screaming with her.
   They ran into their parentsâ room, scrambling to grab the rifle leaned against their mumâs vanity. The metal was cold against their hands. They knew it was already loaded, their dad was always paranoid about situations like this, so he didnât really care about gun safety.
   They tried not to trip on the carpet as they sprinted back into the living room. Their heart raced as they ran to the front door.Â
   They slipped when they turned, panic filling their veins when they almost fell. They can complain about running with socks on wooden floors later, when their mum isnât in danger and theyâre not running with a gun.
   Goosebumps spread across their skin when they finally got outside, the night air chilling them. Casey ran across the porch, trying not to slip again. They could see their dad racing toward them. When did their mum stop screaming?
   âGOD DAMMIT, GIVE ME THE FUCKING GUN ALREADY!â Their dad sounded even more panicked.
   Running down the porch steps they held the rifle out for their dad to grab. Their heart raced as it was pulled out from their grip, their dad already turning around and aiming at-
   Oh god.
   It was too dark to see fully, but there was enough light from the porch to get the picture.
   Something was hunched over their mum, straddling her as it tore at her still body. It was humanoid, clad in dark clothes, but the sight of it latching its teeth into what remained of their mumâs neck screamed otherwise.
   Dark fluid, Casey assumed blood, surrounded the two of them. They watched as it wrenched its head back, the ripping of flesh being loud enough for them to hear from nearly twenty, no, thirty feet away. Its arms moved as it used its claws to tear at their mumâs stomach and chest, blood already covering the areas.
   Casey could barely believe what they were looking at. How long had it been since their mum had ran outside?
   They were brought back at the sound of a gunshot.
   The thing flinched at the sound, turning to their dad as he moved to eject the empty shell casing from the rifle. The lack of it reacting in pain meant that their dad missed, at 20 feet. When did he even get that close? Casey wouldâve made fun of their dadâs aim but now was not the time.Â
   It scrambled to its feet, running at their dad. Shit heâs too close, heâs not going to have a new bullet in the chamber in time-
   A second gunshot rang out. The thing stumbled, a horrifying wail coming from it.
   Their dad backed away. Itâs too close for comfort. He turned around, running towards Casey and the house. One look at him told them he was panicking.
   âGET IN- GET IN THE FUCKING HOUSE,â their dad almost screamed.Â
   Casey was already turning to go inside, nearly tripping on one of the steps. When they passed through the front door they turned around.
   The thing was still going after him. The shot didnât do anything except slow it down for a few seconds.
    It shrieked and cried as it chased him to the house. Casey slammed the door shut as soon as their dad got in, frantically locking the door with the hope that itâd do something. They could hear it get louder and louder the closer it got to the house.
   Their dad turned around and aimed the rifle at the door, his breath still panicked. Casey went away from the door, and out of the way of the gun, as soon as he made eye contact with them. They held their breath as they waited for it to get to the door.
   The image of it mauling their mum kept appearing in their head. They couldnât wait to see their dad blast the thingâs head off-
   The sound of glass shattering brought their thoughts to a halt. They stared at the living room as they processed what just happened. Shards scattered onto the floor, the thing groaned as it lifted itself from the carpet, itâs breathing ragged.
   It jumped through the window.
   The thing growled as it turned towards the two of them. Its face was⊠like somebody shoved a horse skull into a human head. Blood covered its elongated teeth, some of it mixing with its spit, dripping onto the carpet.
   Casey was snapped out of their daze when the thing charged their dad, letting out a shriek. They turned and ran into the kitchen, they could hear something slam into the wall during the scuffle. They yelped when a gunshot rang out, crawling into the nearest cabinet. They hoped the sounds of pots being shoved would be ignored.
   They could still hear the fight, backing as far as they could against the wall as they listened to the thingâs screams and their dadâs yells.
   They flinched at the second gunshot, covering their mouth and nose in an attempt to hide their breathing. They heard a loud thunk, followed by a dragging noise that slowly got louder.
   Whoever won had to be in the kitchen now, they could hear their breathing. It had to be their dad, whoever fell was after the gunshot. Casey was hoping he would call out to them, say itâs safe to come out or something.
  Maybe he was processing everything? They wouldnât blame him, mumâs dead and Andy probably is too. They put their hand on the cabinet door, ready to push it open.
   A squelch made them stop. There was another, and another. They were mixed with tearing sounds. It wasnât like fabric or paper, it sounded⊠wet. Dread pooled in their gut.
   Casey put their hand back on the door and began to push it open, bracing themselves for whatever couldâve been on the other side.
   The smell of blood flooded their senses. They fought the urge to gag, they couldnât risk making any sound. Not while they still donât know who won. Although with the sounds they were hearing, they might know the answer.
   Casey wanted to puke at the scene before them.
   Their dad was dead, no denying that, the thing that had killed their mum killed their dad too. It was practically feasting on his body, ripping and tearing at anything it could get in its mouth. There was blood splattered everywhere, a pool forming underneath their dad and the thing.Â
   They felt like they couldnât move, like even breathing would bring its attention to them.
   Blood was all over the thingâs uniform, itâs wearing a fucking police uniform, soaking into the fabric and adding to the stains it was already covered in. It had bleached hair that was partially tied back and its hands looked partially elongated. They couldnât see its face, they didnât want to. If they could see its face, then it could see them.
   Casey tried to avoid looking at their dadâs face.
   They flinched again when a particularly loud squelch sounded, whatever it was chewing on popping and splattering more blood on the kitchen floor. They needed to sneak out while it was distracted, itâd probably rather go for them when it was done with their dad than go back to their mum.
   Casey began to slowly crawl towards the back door, staying on their feet just in case they needed to run. They tried not to cringe at the feeling of their socks soaking up the splatters of blood that had reached their side of the kitchen.
   They didnât want to stare at their dadâs body while it was being consumed, but if they wanted to run as soon as it turned around and saw them, they had to.Â
   They slowly crawled behind the thing, avoiding the few shards of glass, bullet casing, and the rifle. Shit, it probably caught it in its mouth going off the damage. The metal was partially crushed, it's a miracle the thing fired. Guess they arenât using that.
   Casey flinched when they heard a loud crunch. Itâs probably reached his bones now, is that even an alternate? They doubted it. Alternates didnât maul people like wild animals.
   They were almost to the door, deciding to go just a little further to get the dinner table between it and them. If it detected them itâd struggle over or under the chairs and table, and that would give them important seconds to get away.
   They glanced at the thing, still feasting on their dad. God they hoped they could get out of this alive, maybe they wouldâve had better chances of surviving if they stayed inside the cabinet. Maybe if they-
   A loud clack sounded from a chair their leg bumped into. Their stomach dropped, their lungs stopped working. The thing stopped eating. It quickly turned around and made eye contact with them, blood dripping from its maw.
   As soon as it began to move Casey bolted to the back door. Thanking god and their dadâs habit of leaving it unlocked, they swung it open as fast as they could without letting go. They heard the thing practically yowl and its teeth snap as they ran out, slamming the door shut behind them.Â
   They didnât look back, they refused to look back, as they ran into the woods on the property. They could still hear the thing as it started wailing again.
   Maybe they shouldâve slowed down when the wails became fainter, letting the sounds of the leaves crunching under their feet and the wind in their ears become the only things they could hear. They kept running, they couldn't risk it.
   A feeling of something quickly sliding over their foot is the only warning they got.Â
   Something yanked on their ankle, hard. Falling hands, then face, first into the forest floor, their eyes teared up as stinging pain bloomed all over.
   They whimpered at the pain on their tongue and ankle. The fall had made them scrape their hands on the small rocks and dirt, blood already leaking from one of them. Their jaw slamming into the ground had made them bite their tongue. They looked down at their legs, both knees being irritated, but the problem was the snare trap that was wrapped around and digging into their ankle.
   Tears welled into their eyes as they tried to move their ankle. Pain pulsed through their foot and up their leg.
   Casey felt like an idiot. Finally remembering the snares their dad has set up to catch whatever was killing the chickens. Theyâd helped set the damn things, but they still forgot.
   They couldn't take it anymore. Their body shook as tears ran down their face, trying to cry quietly. They quickly turned into sobs.
   What were they crying over? Casey didnât know. They were stuck in a snare, they were chased by some fucking thing, their mum and dad were mauled, Andy was missing and probably dead.
   They knew something weird was going on!
   They could hear Andy talking to something.
   They knew it wasnât an imaginary friend, they could hear its voice.
   They knew it was going into the house and moving things around, they could hear its footsteps.
   They knew the chickens were being killed by someone, they saw the three with broken necks tucked away near the garage. They hadn't even been eaten by anything.
   Why didnât they say anything! Their dad wouldâve at least believed the chicken one, they were right there!
   Casey curled into themself as they sobbed, they wished this was another fucked up nightmare. That theyâd wake up and everything would be normal. Andy wouldnât be missing, their mum and dad wouldnât be dead, and they wouldnât have to worry about the thing that killed them both being real.
   They didnât hear the leaves rustling at first, crunching as something stepped closer. When they did, over their own sniffles and sobs, they tried their hardest to silence themself. But all they could manage was turning their cries into stuttered gasps, lungs spasming from the effort.
   They did their best to stay still as whatever approached got closer. They could hear its breathing at this point, or was that their own? They couldnât tell.
   Casey closed their eyes as it seemed to finally get to them, knowing their breathing was still too erratic to go undetected. The leaves crunched and shifted behind them, they prayed that whatever it was itâd leave them alone.
   A hand touching their side made them scramble onto their hands and knees, breathing through their teeth as the stinging worsened. They needed to get away, they needed to run-
   The snare tugged on their ankle, reminding them why they were on the ground in the first place. They glanced back at it, more tears forming in their eyes, and noticed a hand, clad in a black fingerless glove, holding the snare wire. Their eyes followed the arm, wanting to know who was keeping them from being able to at least get a few feet further.
   Dread pooled in Caseyâs stomach as the arm just seemed to keep going. It was longer than their dad was tall, and was bent at several points, as if it was full of joints. A second arm with the same features was near it.Â
   If that didnât confirm it wasnât human, finally processing the rest of it did.
   It had ripped jeans that didnât reach its ankles, probably cause its legs were in a similar state to its arms. Its shoes were worn down black sneakers and a black hoodie with yellow letters where the breast pocket would be, they read âBPSâ. Casey felt like theyâd heard of that before.
   Its neck was long, too long, and it had a point in the middle that looked broken. It had blonde curls on its head, cut in what they guessed was an undercut.Â
   Finally making eye contact with it, it smiled.Â
   âHey,â it spoke gently, âIâm not gonna hurt you.â
   Its face looked wrong. Its smile was too wide, borderline baring its teeth. Each pupil was blown wide, nearly taking up the eye. If Casey squinted they could see white dots in the middle of them. They felt wrong looking at-
   Did it just fucking talk?
   Panicked, they kicked their leg at the hand holding the wire, mind filled with a mantra of âwhat the fuckâ. Â
   That was quickly ended by it grabbing their other leg. It dragged them towards it, mouth closing but still smiling. Their stomach lurched as they were lifted off the ground.
   Casey clawed at the forest floor, blood from their palm mixing with the dirt. They were raised just high enough to barely touch the ground beneath them, only able to scrape at the soil with their fingertips.
   âI said I wasnât gonna hurt you,â it sounded less friendly. âHow hard is that to understand?â
   Casey wanted to snap back, but the throbbing in their tongue from when they ate shit had them not wanting to speak. This⊠noodle thing was already upset with them too, they didnât want to make it mad. Why was its voice familiar?
   Looking back up at it, Casey saw that it had craned its neck down to them. Probably to get a better look at their face. It showed its teeth again when it noticed it regained contact with them.Â
   âHeyâÂ
   â... hiâÂ
   Why did they respond? This thing clearly isnât human, why are they entertaining it?
   âWhatâs your name? Mineâs Adamâ
   â... Caseyâ
   Its- Adamâs smile somehow got wider as it raised them higher. They were getting woozy from being upside down already. They could feel the snare lightly tugging on their leg.
   âWhatâs got you so scared? Youâre really freaked outâ
   Why is its voice so familiar?
   It looked Casey up and down, pausing at their feet. They wondered why it was staring before they realized. Their socks were still bloodstained. Adam chuckled.
   âOhhhh, you did something didnât you? You did something you werenât supposed to,â it giggled.
   Casey heaved, their head swam. They didnât want to cry again but it wasnât wrong. The still fresh memories of their mum and dad being mauled flashed in their head. They caused this, or at least didnât try to stop it when they couldâve. Everyone was-
   âHey! I know you can still hear me. Whatâs going on in there?â It tilted its head again, craning its neck lower.
   Okay theyâre getting sick of being upside down. Bending their other leg, they took a second to aim, and kicked it in the side of the head as hard as they could.
   Pain exploded in their ankle, the snare snapped even tighter around their leg. It made a startled sound, dropping them on the ground. Casey was sure they heard its neck crack, or it couldâve been one of their joints. They werenât paying too much attention.
   They scrambled onto their knees and away from it as it seemed to stumble. They didnât really kick that hard, maybe they caught it by surprise?
   âOW! What the hell! What was that for?â it shouted, clearly upset.
   Casey flattened themself on the ground, trying to get the lightheaded feeling from being upside down to go away. They didnât care if it was mad at them, if it didnât want them to lash out, maybe it shouldnât have held them up in the air.
   They stuck their tongue out at it, ignoring the fact that they just licked the ground.
   âAndy was so much nicer than you, he let me pick him up all the timeâ
   Wait a fucking minute.
   âYou⊠What do you mean..?âÂ
   Their lungs felt heavy, head still swimming from being upside down.Â
   Adam cocked its head at them, smile spreading across its face as it leaned forward on its arms. Are they supposed to even call them arms? It used them more like legs.
   âAndy! You live in the same house as him, right?â
   Casey pushed themself off the ground, moving to sit on their knees. Their hands still stung, but they ignored them. This thing knew Andy.
   âYeahâŠâ Casey could feel dots connecting in their head but still couldnât figure out how they had heard its voice before. Maybe this is an alternate and itâs mimicking a voice-
   Holy fucking shit.
   Holy Fucking Shit.
   âYOU- YOU WERE IN THE HOUSE.â They heard a bird startle and fly off from a nearby tree. âYOU WERE TALKING TO HIMâ
   âI was!â it spoke like it was admitting to something amazing, and not breaking into their house to play with their little brother. Then again this thing probably thought that was something amazing.
   The two of them fell into silence. Casey couldnât figure out what else to say and Adam seemed to be okay with just watching them think. Maybe⊠If it was spending time with Andy, maybe it knows where he went. They made eye contact with it again.
   âDo⊠do you know where he is?â
   âNo, I donât.â he frowned. It looked so wrong on his face, Casey would pay money to not have him do that again. âHe ran off a while ago and I havenât seen him since.â
   Casey felt themself wilt at that. If Andyâs secret noodle friend didnât know where he was, then he definitely was lost. Adam tilted its head again, staring at Casey.
   âI have an ideaâ it tilted its head the other direction. âWe could play a game, maybe that could cheer you up?â
   âI- okay,â Casey sighed. Cheering them up wonât help but itâs clearly not human, might as well hear this thing out.
   âHow about, hmmm⊠tag? I count down and you run, doesn't that sound fun?â
   âThatâs hide and seekâ
   âSame thing, are you gonna play or not?â
  Casey was quiet for a moment, weighing their options. If they refused, he'd probably just keep manhandling and hurting them, since it's not like they can run with this snare on their ankle. But if they play his game, they have a good chance of getting away, and maybe even finding Andy.
   âYeah, Iâll play,â they pulled their leg out from underneath themselves, reaching for the wire around it.
   Just looking at their ankle told them that running wasnât going to be enjoyable. Casey was surprised it wasnât bleeding, but the bruises were already forming. The welt stung in the cold air.
   Adam pulled on the snare again, whenâd he grab it? He was surprisingly gentle as he reached for their ankle with his other hand-
  Casey yelped as he yanked their leg up, forcing them back to the ground, the wire tight around their ankle again. They take back the gentle thought. Adam giggled. Jackass.
    âRules are easy,â he pulled on the slide, loosening the snare. âI count down from twenty, you run. Make it to the road and Iâll let you go, donât make it, and I can do whatever I want, okay?â
   He pulled the wire loop off of their ankle.
   âIf Iâm feeling nice Iâll even help look for Andy.â Adam let go of their leg, letting it drop to the ground. Casey pushed themselves up to stand. Their legs wobbly from the earlier running and then sitting on the ground.
   âOkay,â they turned toward Adam. âHow are we doing this?â Its face stretched into a wide smile.
    âTwenty⊠nineteen⊠eighteen-â
   Casey didnât wait any longer to get the message. Turning away from Adam and bolting. They pushed their body to go as fast as it could, doing their best to ignore the worsening pain in their ankle.
   It surprised them how they still had the energy to run like this, leaping over roots and weaving between trees. If they werenât running for what they assumed is their life, theyâd relish in how wild and free they felt.
   Rocks and branches stabbed into their feet, their lungs stung from the cool night air. Their limbs already stung at the exertion, they could feel something wet starting to drip down their leg. They could deal with that later.
   âREADY OR NOT!â Adamâs voice echoed through the trees. That was not twenty seconds, bastard. They could hear maniacal laughter that was already getting louder.
   Andy played with this thing? This shit is terrifying!
   Running through the forest, Casey was quickly realizing how hard it is to both run in a straight line while also weaving through trees to lose Adam. This thing was fast, they might not stand a chance.
   They noticed a particularly thick area of underbrush. That could work.Â
   Caseyâs ankle protested as they took a sharp left. They felt air rush behind them as Adam zoomed past them. It was much closer than they thought it was.
   They ducked their head lower as they reached the denser foliage, avoiding the larger branches. If this worked then they can get more distance between them and Adam.Â
   Refusing to look back and see if it was slowed down, they kept running. Casey was quickly realizing how this path affected them too. The large amount of plants and lower hanging branches kept snagging on their shirt, some branches breaking off and trying to hang on their clothes before falling.
   Caseyâs vision was already starting to blur. What happened? They were running just fine earlier. They chose to try to ignore it.
 The underbrush was already becoming less dense. Both a good and bad thing. They hoped Adam struggled through it. They could barely hear it now, but they wanted to be completely unable to hear it.
   They finally got out, one more branch hitting their now bleeding knee. They inhaled from the pain, but kept running. Theyâre not slowing down just yet.
   The area after was much clearer, only making them have to leap over a few roots and uneven ground. Casey was gaining distance here, they couldnât hear Adam anymore. The only sounds they were hearing were their own footsteps, breathing, and the wind in their ears.
   Their stomach dropped when their foot slipped on a tree root, everything else following.
   They tried not to yelp when they fell. Their legs were so sore, they could feel the muscles under their skin spasming as they collapsed. Shit, shit- why now? Why now for the sudden muscle weakness? They hadnât been running that much had they?
   Casey winced as they put their arms out in front of them, their already scraped and bloody palms exploding in pain. The impact made their jaw clack, spit dripping out of their mouth. They abruptly inhaled, bringing a glob of saliva down their throat.
   Pain filled everything, making their body quiver as they choked on their spit. Feeling it run out of their mouth and run down their chin as they gasped for air. They pushed themself to sit on their knees.
   They leaned back, tilting their head upwards and putting their hand behind them for support. They felt something boney and wet under their fingers. They snapped their head back to look at it.
   Oh thatâs gross. Casey had accidentally put their hand on another dead chicken, looking at her told them she had been here for a little while. They fight the urge to throw up as the sight of the maggots wriggling through what remained of her flesh and internal organs. They still heave.
   Her neck had been broken, but there were no signs of her having been eaten in any way. They scooted away from the corpse. They didnât need to worry about that right now.
   They reached up with the hand that hadnât touched the chicken and wiped the tears off their face. They looked up again, trying to breathe more clearly. God their ankle hurt. Goosebumps formed as they heard something moving through the brush.
   Shit, Adam was already near, and theyâre making a lot of noise.
   They could hear it moving through the forest, bushes and branches shifting as it pushed past them. Casey could hear its steps getting louder as it got closer.Â
   Fuck, shit, SHIT. Casey felt dread pool in their gut, panic making their lungs stutter. Something about Adam winning made them afraid.
   Looking around for something- anything to defend themself, Casey saw a stone in the dirt. That could work. They didnât give a shit about playing fair anymore. This is terrifying and they donât want to know what happens when they get caught.
   Casey clawed at the dirt around the stone, pulling it out of the ground as soon as it was loose enough. It was bigger than they anticipated but they didnât really have too many other options. Theyâll use what they can get.Â
   The sounds of Adam sprinting through the foliage got louder as it approached.
 Their dad showed them how to deal with coyotes that were trying to get into the chicken coop when they were younger, hopefully thereâs nothing wrong with using that now.
   âCaught you!â Adamâs voice was distorted, like there were multiple speaking at once through a radio. It looked insane, the laughter coming from it sounding deranged. It surged forward, trying to grab them.
   Casey didnât wait for it to grab them, throwing the rock as hard as they could at its face. They were rewarded with a sickening crack as the stone hit Adamâs neck instead. It recoiled violently and screamed. Casey pushed themself to stand while it was recovering.
   Their legs were shaking but at least they were working now. Stumbling and nearly tripping over more exposed roots and uneven terrain, they pushed themself to run as fast as they could again.Â
   âYouâre so mean!â Adam yelled. Casey could tell they were gaining distance from how quiet it was compared to seconds earlier.
   Burning filled their lungs as they strained them again. They heaved again, more spit running out of their mouth and down their chin. Adam probably wonât be slowed down for long. Their vision blurred.
   Casey didnât know how much longer they could keep running. How big is their familyâs property?
   They noticed a gap in the trees ahead, where the ground was grey and sand colored gravel instead of the normal soil of the forest floor.Â
   There! The road! Just a little more and they can make it!
   Their body screamed at them to stop running. Everything burned. But theyâre so close to winning, just a little further.
   Their legs buckled again when they stepped into the ditch next to the road. The unkempt grass made the ground look not as low as it actually was. They could feel the sharp stickers and seeds try to stab into and stick to their skin.
   Casey nearly collapsed when they felt the gravel stabbing through their socks and into their feet. They won. They leaned down on their knees, trying to get more air into their lungs. The blood all over their hand and knee was still leaking but had mostly dried.
   Reaching up with their hand they wiped the spit that had collected off their chin and neck. They stood there for a few seconds. If they sat down now they wonât be able to get up. Looking left and right only showed them the road stretching onward.
   Now what?
   Maybe they could walk to town? Yeah, they can walk to town. Thereâs more people there, and the police station. They can go there, maybe theyâll help.
   They chose a direction and began walking, ignoring their sore limbs except their ankle. Not gonna make any progress if they stand around doing nothing.
   Casey heard something walking through the leaves behind them. Turning to look, they watched Adam emerge from the tree line. It was silent, staring directly at them. They stood still, watching it approach them before stopping about five feet away.
   They swallowed the lump in their throat. Adam was probably mad at them about the rock.
 âI won.â Casey was surprised their voice was audible, after today they might just not speak again. Silence stretched between them. They turned and started walking along the road again.Â
   âYou were mean,â Adam finally spoke. They could hear the gravel crunching as it began to follow them.
 âYou were mean first.â A shoddy excuse, but Casey really didnât want to know what wouldâve happened if they lost. They kept walking.
   âWhere are you going?â They tried not to jump when Adamâs voice sounded so close so suddenly. The thing had craned its neck down to get closer to their ear. Looking at it now it seemed like the stone hadnât done much if any damage to its neck.
   âThe police station, dunno what theyâll do but hopefully Iâll be taken care of.â Having to report their own parentsâ deaths wonât be fun. Theyâre technically homeless now too, maybe they could move in with one of their cousins. The foster system doesnât sound fun.
   They flinched as something brushed against their injured ankle before it was clasped by a gloved hand. Casey looked down to see that Adam had grabbed their leg and began to squeeze, hard. They yelped and tried to pull their ankle out of its grip. Adam pulled in response, bringing Casey down and knocking their head on the gravel below.
   Casey thrashed when it kept pulling them towards himself. its other arm snaked underneath them and tried to wrap around their body as it lifted them off the ground. They bit and scratched as it slowly coiled its arm around them, its other joining after it ensured it wasnât going to drop them.
   Tears began to pool in their eyes as Adam smiled down at them.
   âI won!â they screamed, âYou said youâd let me go if I beat your game!â
   Adam giggled. It squeezed them as its hands slowly snaked up to their head. Caseyâs breathing quieted down as its hands almost gently cradled their jaw.
   They stared into this thingâs eyes as he readjusted his hands, trying to get the perfect position.
   Adam looked into their eyes, before smiling so wide its face seemed to nearly split in half, its grip on their neck abruptly tightening and-
.  .  .
  The body of a 12 year old child had been found on the side of a rural road in Mandela County. Cause of death appears to be a broken neck. Police are still investigating the incident.
after writing something with a drunk character i do what any responsable adult of drinking age does: i translate the entire thing to spanish and ask my friends who actually drink if its accurate because i don't want to sound like a teenager
