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Wilbur had never been especially fond of the forest. It was, well, suspicious even at the best of times. Trees grew too close together, and there were few animals. It was quiet, something no forest should be. The people whose houses were near the forest strung protective charms on their doorknobs and over windows, and counseled their children not to go out at night, or invite anyone in that they didn’t already know.
Wilbur and Techno didn’t really pay attention to that kind of superstition, of course, but just to be safe, they rented an apartment in the center of town, and didn’t go out at night.
Except for today. Tonight, more precisely.
“Why on earth did you take that bet?” Techno snapped, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders up to his ears. “You know better, Wil.”
“Yeah, I know, but I had to!” Wilbur knew the protest wasn’t exactly accurate. A hundred bucks if he went out into the forest at night was not a good idea, even in the best of circumstances, but certain people were absurdly good at riling him up into doing stupid things. “Look, you can just wait here, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He was being safe, sticking to a hiking path and stopping where it widened into a clearing. All he had to do was take a picture of the clearing at night, with part of himself in frame, and then get the hell out of dodge. Wilbur just… didn’t exactly want to go alone.
Techno shifted uncomfortably.
“Yeah, but… the forest… at night…”
“Look, Tech, no one really knows what could be in it,” Wilbur said.
“That’s the problem,” Techno mumbled.
“Yeah, but it also means everyone could be freaking out over nothing.” Wilbur pointedly did not mention how people didn’t really go into the forest even when it was broad daylight in summer. Things were simply… off. Wilbur felt the wrongness just standing at the head of the path, an uncomfortable feeling radiating up his feet and into his bones. He definitely understood why Techno kept shifting around, picking his feet up so they wouldn’t touch the ground. His twin had always been more sensitive to this kind of stuff.
“If you want to do this, Wilbur, then fine, but I’m not going out there,” Techno said finally, stepping back so he stood on the asphalt of the parking lot. “Be quick.”
“It’s safer with a buddy,” Wilbur argued.
“Yeah, it’s also safer in broad daylight. I know what trail you’re supposed to be on, if something happens I’ll call the cops or whatever.” Techno folded his arms. “But I would like to live peacefully, thanks.”
Wilbur nodded, turned, and began to walk.
The wrongness only increased as he moved deeper into the forest. Every tree branch seemed twisted into a shape familiar and yet wholly different, every rock melting into the ground as if it was made of mud instead of stone. Grass and brush looked too sharp in contrast, blades of harsh, cutting shadow against the murkiness of trees and rock. Up was down, right was left, and natural laws were overturned.
It’s probably fine, Wilbur told himself, searching for prickles of moonlight in the darkness beyond his phone’s flashlight to reassure himself that the night wouldn’t last forever. It’s just the darkness getting to you. Prehistoric humans were scared of the dark because they couldn’t see. There’s not something lurking in the shadows, waiting for you to stumble.
Wilbur shook himself, trying to banish the sensation of creeping unease, but it remained as he kept walking. And walking. And walking.
Wilbur began to feel sick, and this time he knew it was justified.
He should’ve reached the clearing by now. Wilbur had gone down this trail dozens of times, and he’d only passed two of the five markers he normally used to orient himself. Now feeling more jumpy, scanning either side of the trail with a little bit of panic, Wilbur found fear creeping farther up his throat. None of this seemed familiar. None of this was familiar. It was all different and wrong, and he had no idea where he was. He looked down.
Shit, that was dirt under his feet. There should be asphalt on the path, not dirt.
It’s fine, Wilbur insisted to himself, clutching his phone tighter. You- you went down an offshoot by accident, you just need to turn around and find your way back and it’ll be -
He whipped around and his light gleamed off of liquid eyes and pale skin and gleaming teeth- Wilbur’s heartrate shot up as he staggered back, chest clutching and throat completely closed in mute terror.
What was that? What was that? What was that? Wilbur didn’t want to know, he kept stumbling on rocks and he heard the rustling of footsteps, a pale shape gliding towards him at the edges of the light, a thousand horror movies gave shape to the monster in Wilbur’s mind, scaly with giant teeth and too-large slavering jaws with too little skin-
“What brings you out here?”
Wilbur stopped walking away, and hesitantly raised his light again.
There was a kid standing on the path.
Just a kid.
Wilbur let out a little shuddering sigh of relief.
“You- sorry, you scared me,” He stuttered out, feeling like he was about to keel over.
The kid had large, glittering eyes that didn’t squint even though the light was shining directly at him. He blinked.
“That happens.”
Now Wilbur was slightly more calm, enough so that he could take in the rest of the kid’s appearance. Fluffy blonde curls, adding to the overall vibe of an innocent angel child or something. Shirt with bright red sleeves, stained with dirt. More dirt on his face. Make that an innocent angel street child, since wow, Wilbur hadn’t seen that much dirt on a kid since he had to babysit.
“Kid, what are you doing out so late?”
“Tommy.”
“What?”
The kid tilted his head to the side like a little bird. His eyes stayed wide, expression lacking any emotion. Wilbur uneasily realized that he couldn’t figure out how old this kid was. No younger than six, definitely, but he could be anywhere from seven to twelve. That was quite a range.
“My name,” the kid said. “Tommy.”
Maybe he was… confused.
“Alright, Tommy.” Wilbur’s eyes flickered down. He did not like how intently this child was staring at him. “What are you doing out so late?”
“Playing games.”
Yeah, Wilbur could believe that. Tommy’s bare feet were streaked with mud all the way up to the ankles, burrs stuck to his shorts. Shorts in October? Brr.
“Tommy, why are you out here alone? Where are your parents?” Wilbur hesitantly stepped forward, back towards where his trail should be. That uneasy feeling climbed up his legs again, making his joints ache. Tommy didn’t seem to feel the same, as his feet were planted solidly in the dirt.
“I’m not alone,” the kid said with a frown, eyes narrowing. There weren’t any whites, at least that Wilbur could see. “I’m with Phil.”
“Ph-Phil? Okay, um…. Where is he?” Wilbur sidled further and Tommy took a step back, nothing but grace even as his feet skimmed over rocks and roots. He was still in Wilbur’s way.
“Somewhere. He’s no fun to play games with.”
“Okay.” Wilbur took another step. So did Tommy, whose arms hung at his sides as if his hands were too heavy to swing with the motion. “Do you need something? For me to call him?”
Tommy tilted his head again, blinking up at Wilbur. It was a little creepy how the light gleamed on his eyes, like a cat or other nocturnal creature. Not great implications there.
“Will you play with me?”
Oh, no thank you. Tommy looked innocent enough, but Wilbur did not want to die like he was in a horror movie, thank you very much. He quickly began to walk, managing to sidestep Tommy.
“Um, sorry, but I should really get back.” He saw something at the corner of his vision and jumped. Tommy had caught up and practically appeared at Wilbur’s side.
The kid frowned at him.
“No, you don’t need to.”
This was getting more and more fun by the minute . Wilbur sent a silent curse up to whoever had made him take that bet.
“I do, though, I-”
“No.” Tommy smiled, then. “Please?”
Shit.
Shit. That smile.
Wilbur would do anything for this kid. He would play games, he would run until his feet wore down, he’d climb a tree and gladly jump off.
What was this? Wilbur didn’t like it. It made his stomach turn, even as he smiled back.
“Oh, okay. I’ll play with you.”
“Yay!” Tommy clapped his hands, then grabbed Wilbur’s wrist and began to drag him deeper into the forest. “C’mon, games are more fun when the trees aren’t so far apart.”
Far apart? Wilbur’s shoulder’s would nearly brush two trunks at once
Wilbur’s skin crawled. Tommy’s fingers were bony, calloused and clammy like they’d half-rotted. There was something seriously wrong with this kid. Wilbur kept stumbling on tree roots and rocks as he walked, vines that seemed to wrap around his ankles and drag him to the ground. The sense of wrongness was so much worse here, making his heart pound whenever he saw anything move in the corners of his vision. Wildly looking back and forth, Wilbur kept getting snatches of flickering black shapes darting back and forth between the ever-closer trees.
Tommy eventually noticed how Wilbur’s gaze was jumping and waved a hand.
“Oh, it’s alright. They won’t hurt you.” Yet , something in his voice implied.
Wilbur’s stomach flipped.
“Alright, then.”
Tommy looked around then seemed to decide something, letting go of Wilbur as he stumbled. Wilbur unceremoniously crumpled, foot caught in a tangle of roots.
“Right, we’re here. Time to play.”
“I really need to get back,” Wilbur wheezed, since there was a rock digging into his ribs. He gingerly extracted himself, managing to stand up and brush his coat off.
Tommy frowned up at him, eyes impossibly sad.
“But you said you’d play with me, Wilbur.”
That did not do wonders for Wilbur’s already panicked heartrate.
“How do you know that?”
“What game should we play first?” Tommy spun in a circle, delicately hopping over a large rock. “Tag comes last. How about hide and seek? Or duck duck goose, but we don’t have enough players for that.” His grin was back, this one not the entrancing smile but a hungry, sharkish expression. “Marco Polo?”
“Hide and seek sounds good,” Wilbur said weakly.
“Okay!” Tommy tipped his head again. “I’ll be it. I’m always it.” He giggled. “And I always win. Go hide, Wilbur.” He turned on one heel. “One, two, three…”
Wilbur began looking for someplace to hide. Even though he was in the middle of a goddamn cursed forest, there seemed to be no good place to hide from a creepy child that somehow knew his name. No normal kid randomly appears in the middle of the night in the middle of the forest, Wilbur thought grimly, finally finding a low outcropping where a tangle of roots stuck out, creating a pretty okay shelter seeing as it was dark. Wilbur gingerly climbed down and slithered through the roots, turning off his phone flashlight and curling up against cold, dry dirt. There were definitely spiderwebs in his hair, but he’d take it.
Were those footsteps? Wilbur wasn’t sure. He heard fluttery things, soft and somehow sharp at the same time. His eyes darted back and forth, grasping for anything in the darkness. In the distance, deeper in the forest (who was Wilbur kidding, he had no idea which way was out) there was a low screech, and something shadowy and impossibly large slithered between evergreens, too high up to be natural.
An impossibly cheerful giggle.
Wilbur’s heart stopped.
Shit. Tommy was nearby.
He held his breath.
There weren’t any footsteps.
His heart was impossibly loud in his heart. Could Tommy hear the frantic pounding, like a bird trapped in the mouth of a cat?
A pair of hands appeared from the gloom and grabbed Wilbur, who was too paralyzed by terror to move or scream or do anything he was going to die he was going to die he’d die and Techno would never see him again-
“I win.” Tommy’s face appeared, grinning widely. “I told you, I always do.”
“Good game,” Wilbur said, sounding strangled even to himself.
“Aw, there’s spiders in your hair.” Tommy pulled Wilbur out from under the roots and brushed his hair off. “I don’t like spidery playmates. It’s too crunchy.”
“Wh-what?”
“Next game! You did much better than I thought.” Tommy tittered. “Sometimes people try to run away. That’s no fun. Anyway, let’s keep playing. How about Marco Polo?”
“Whatever you say,” Wilbur said weakly.
“You’re a doormat, Wilbur.” Tommy sniffed. “If you hadn’t agreed to play with me, I’d think you’re boring.”
“Let me guess,” Wilbur said, hoping being boring was bad and trying very hard to not be boring. “You’re it?”
Tommy grinned and nodded energetically.
“Yep!” He closed his eyes. “Marco.”
“Polo,” Wilbur said, stepping to the side. Tommy walked towards him, faster than Wilbur expected. Even with his eyes closed he seemed to have an uncanny sense of direction, head tilting back and forth so his ears were towards Wilbur’s voice. Wilbur broke into a jog. Luckily there weren’t any dry twigs or leaves on the ground.
“Marco.”
“Polo.”
Tommy turned and kept walking, not even stumbling on the rocks or roots. He was fast, and still sinuously graceful. Oh god, he was fast. Wilbur couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being chased, hunted down. His heart was pounding, stuck in his throat.
“Marco.”
“Polo.” Wilbur wove out of Tommy’s way, trying to stay out of reach, but he kept getting tangled in things and Tommy only. Got. Closer.
“Marco.”
Wilbur’s back bumped in a tree and he froze.
“Polo,” he whispered, and squeezed his eyes shut as Tommy’s hand landed solidly over his heart, which was about ready to give out.
“I win.” Tommy sounded… unhinged. Hungry. No, not hungry. Starving. “Tag. I’m it.”
“I don’t want to play anymore,” Wilbur said stiffly, forcing his eyes to open.
Tommy’s expression twisted, becoming a snarl. Oh god. His teeth were too sharp. Too white.
“You said you’d play!”
“I don’t want to anymore.” Wilbur felt his legs shaking. “I need to get home.”
“No! No, you're playing with me!” Tommy stamped his foot into the ground, but it wasn’t a foot, it was almost a paw, too long and with hooked talons. “You said you’d play!”
Tommy’s tantrum seemed only to make him more inhuman, pupils constricting into thin lines, ears turning pointy as twisted horns curled out of his hair, fists clenched and stained red, sharp and fingers too long oh god this wasn’t a kid this was something else, something wrong, Tommy’s features were mangled and torn and his voice had become a high shriek-
“You run, I chase, I win and I EAT YOU! RUN !”
Wilbur ran. His sense were all alight, working overtime to compensate because there was no human in him anymore, he was terrified prey running for his life and he kept stumbling but got up as soon as he could, he could hear Tommy closing in, awful triumphant baying accompanying the hum of Wilbur’s heart, his breath came as whistling pants in his ears he was going to die he was going to die he was going to-
He tripped and his head connected with a rock. His vision went blurry, something wet dripping down his face and into his eyes but he was scrambling up again, frantic for anything familiar, were the trees thinning, was that a path in the distance, was that the edge of the parking lot but all he could do was run, this was it he had to run or die and there was nothing else to do-
Claws hooked into him and Wilbur screamed for the first time, crumpling as an impossible weight landed on his back and shoulders.
“I win,” Tommy snarled, voice distorted in a way that made Wilbur’s hackles raise, “I always win,” panic filling him with adrenaline, he could barely think but he was not going to die he was not going to die not here not now.
Wilbur rolled, the pain making his muscles scream and also him maybe scream as he threw a handful of rocks and dirt into Tommy’s eyes the only whole whole things in a ripped and torn face with no skin, just muscle and mangled flesh leaking blood and Tommy screamed, falling backwards and scrabbling at his eyes as Wilbur stumbled to his feet, back at a full sprint even though his ribs were sewn together and his head swam and his back was punched through but he was not going to die .
“That’s not fair! You’re cheating!” Tommy wailed, the sound too loud and panic-inducing to be natural. “Phil!”
Wilbur did not want to see whatever this was, but he heard it anyway, the sound of branches cracking and the slithering of something heavy and dangerous through the canopy, more fluttering of black fragments but maybe Wilbur was blacking out hopefully not but he kept running, there was the whistling of something through the air and he dropped to the ground, something ruffling his hair as it passed and he was up again, running running running that was all he could do, at least until he saw a person standing in the trees, then he sobbed with relief and crumpled into the arms that were steady and there and human.
“Wilbur! What the hell happened to you?”
“Thing,” Wilbur forced out, finding it hard to string words. “‘Aby angel but he was bad, they’re- they’re both-”
“Monsters,” Techno finished flatly. Wilbur wasn’t sure, but he could see that Techno’s face was smeared with dirt, hair escaping from its braid and tangled with sticks. “Yeah, I met one too.”
“You cheated!” Came the high scream, and Wilbur stiffened. Techno hauled him upright.
“C’mon, I got you.”
They both ran. They ran, guided by Techno’s inexplicable sense of direction, up until Wilbur stumbled onto the asphalt of the parking lot and he crumpled to the ground again, heaving for breath and trying to think through the pain all over his body.
At his side, Techno slumped as well.
“Well,” he said gruffly, “did you at least get the picture?”
Wilbur laughed, but it was half-sobbing, and he definitely welcomed the darkness as the last of his adrenaline ran out and he passed out.