The Bonus Book

MHLM but my teacher read this pt 1

[This is writing I had to do for an assignment. To make it as bearable as possible I took it as an opportunity to write some alternate scenes in the MHLM-centric part of the SCPU. This is part 1]

[obviously kept this vague enough so it wouldn't seem like creepypasta] [oogh]

—

The crowd eyed Maximus dubiously. To say he'd changed would have been an understatement. His childlike ebullience had faded over the years, leaving the man gaunt—Annabelle made a mental note to give him some chicken soup after introductions—and with rakish clothing, worn and oversized, as if to sell just how scrawny he'd become. His face especially was what shocked her; pallid and hesitant, he looked as if he was on the verge of illness. It was obvious he'd preened himself regularly, at least, as regularly as one could while hopping from state to state, but his efforts sadly seemed for naught; his state was disconcerting to Ann, and if something unsettled Ann there was no telling how the others were bound to react.

Max spoke before anyone else, raising an eyebrow.

"Anni, is it the new title or have you lost your verve?"

Ann forced a laugh and clasped her hands together. It was a weak quip at best, but her brother was trying. Of course he had to try; she was the eldest of them all now, and that meant power. Responsibility. Some responsibilities that eluded her still. She shook her head as if to wring these burdens from herself for a moment and turned to her remaining brothers and sisters.

"Come on, don't just stand there, everyone." She cleared her throat softly before clasping her hands again. It was becoming a habit. "Welcome your brother back. We are a solace, remember?" Ann had to try her hardest not to grit her teeth on that word. Solace. As if anyone here believed that anymore.

A harsh, brusque voice cut through the vague mutterings of "welcome back"—Ann could have sworn she heard one of the younger sisters ask quietly, "who is he again?"—startling both her and Max.

"How do we know his mind hasn't been twisted?"

Ann, given time and proper sleep, could have offered a meager but existent selection of reasons as to why Max could be trusted. For instance, "he is our brother" would have dispelled any remaining cynicism among the family. Perhaps "if the impostors had warped his mind, I'd be able to tell." But she came up empty. Shame burned in her face and throat at the flippant question.

"That's fair, Anni." Max touched Ann's shoulder when it became clear that she wouldn't answer, his voice mellow and disarming. She studied his face; he had mustered a humble smile, though in his eyes was a clear, poignant discomfort at having been accused like this.

"It's a perfectly fair question," he said, bordering on redundancy, as if trying to convince himself just as much as the family of how fair the question was. He reached to adjust the collar of his shirt, faltering as his hand fell upon the empty spot where his tie used to be. He swallowed. "And I wish I had an answer to it. But..." He nodded to Ann and drummed his fingers on her shoulder. "...until Anni can supply me with a new uniform, adjustments and all, you all will just have to trust me. For a bit."

"He came here with somebody, you know," the voice said again on the tail of Max's words. Someone stepped forward from his brothers and sisters—someone with hair bottle-dyed green and a goading smile, someone he remembered to be particularly peevish relative to the family. Max nearly shook his head out of habit; no, that couldn't be right. This was a gravely serious matter. His own brother shouldn't have been testing him over something so trivial. Yet Jade flicked his wrist, a ready and pugnacious gleam in his eye, and continued.