If It Was Reversed (Discontinued!)

Chapter Six

Warning: panic attacks, self-harm, violence

"You're alive."

Fliqpy stared down at Flaky, who stood unharmed and well despite the pipe that pierced her skull the day before. Beside her, stood Splendid, a timid smile on his face as he watched Fliqpy.

She's okay! Let me say hi!

Absolutely not. Shut up.

It took him a moment to process his thoughts before he reached out and grabbed Flaky's face, squeezing her cheeks roughly, eliciting a squeak from her.

Flesh. Warmth. The unmistakable smell of her pinecone scent.

"This isn't an illusion."

Flaky whimpered at his treatment and gently patted his hand, "N-no, it's not! It– there's a-a curse o-on this town. Peo-people die b-but they a-always come ba-back at midnight!"

Fliqpy frowned at this and let her go, "I wasn't told this when I moved here."

He glanced over at Splendid, who made a disapproving noise, "Most people who live here kind of forget. Half of them are at least a century old actually."

Fliqpy blinked at this.

Immortality? How strange.

"Y-you have to b-be a re-resident for at l-least six m-months for the curse to s-start to e-effect you." Flaky explained as Fliqpy stared at them.

I... don't want that...

We've been here for seven months now. Does that mean we're going to start dying and coming back?

"It's a lot to take in, Flippy. So, take some time to think about it. I'll find whoever it was that sold you your home and have a chat with them. People need to be given the option to decide if they want to live in a cursed town."

"It's fine."

Splendid and Flaky glanced at each other, a little unnerved at his unresponsiveness.

"Thanks for telling me."

He turned and walked back inside his house, slamming the door before they could stop him to talk more.

What the hell... what the fuck?

Fliqpy?

I didn't sign up to stay alive longer than I need to.

He slid to the floor by his door and sat there feeling numb.

Hey, hey, deep breaths. Stay calm, Fliqpy.

His chest was constricting again as he curled in on himself.

It's not fair. It's not fucking fair.

He had spent the last fifty or so years stuck in his early twenties. Never aging, never growing. Never experiencing life through a different lens like most normal people. He didn't even have much of a life to begin with. Now, he screwed himself over and was stuck as an immortal with the single price of having to die every now and then to keep it.