࿔*:・゚xxiii.

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YOU HAD awoken to the sound of clattering cans, disoriented, groggy, and feverish

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YOU HAD awoken to the sound of clattering cans, disoriented, groggy, and feverish. Drool had slipped past your lips, dribbling into a pool beside your head. Your hat had barely stuck to your head, long strands of your hair poking out and stuck to your face. "I told you there's only one cup, right here!" Oh, that was Johnny. You slowly sat up, placing a clammy hand on your forehead which felt uncomfortably warm. It was better than burning hot though, so you couldn't complain. You shuffled your legs over the edge of the couch, pulling the blankets wrapped around them to the side. The smell of your blend of coffee wafted over from the kitchen. Johnny must have prepared some.

Your thoughts were interrupted by an odd barking cry or like someone choking and trying to clear their throat. It was, for lack of better words, bizarre. You blinked hard— you must have been hearing things. "What a queer!" you heard Johnny say, making you raise a brow. Diego must have been acting odd again. You sighed and got to your feet slowly, only to be interrupted by another set of weird sounds. This time it sounded more like cooing with a sharp edge to it or some sort of clacking. You couldn't ignore it this time and decided to see for yourself. But the first step you took left you lightheaded, making you stumble back onto the couch.

"Fuck," you mumbled as you sunk into the cushions, the beginning of a headache creeping onto your temple. This was seriously getting old. "What the hell is under that bandage, Diego?!" You stiffened up when Johnny yelled those words, but this time, you were distracted by something hitting your face. You flinched, swatting the thing away until it floated back towards the kitchen. "A...fly?" Just as quickly as it had flown into the room, it had returned, this time with a ton more. You grimaced, holding back a screech as you swatted them away fervently, getting to your feet once more to get out into the kitchen.

What you didn't expect was to be met face to face with a teal...monster. The second a scream left your mouth you had been thrown across the kitchen, hitting the beige wall hard enough to knock the wind out of you. "Speedwagon!" Your vision was spotty and all you could hear was the clattering of metal and Johnny's frantic cries for you and Gyro. But something was off. You could feel blood trickle down from your head and when you went to feel the spot, there was no hat to prevent you from doing so. "No," you muttered, raising your gaze to see your hat sitting a few feet away— your entire body went cold.

That couldn't have happened. Iron Maiden usually kept it stuck to your head, regardless of whether or not you had been in a fight. You could be tossed around and beaten up and still that hat would stick to you. The blood from your wound dripped down onto the floor as you stared at your hat, unable to understand. This wasn't happening. Your vision wavered as you moved to try and get it, your head feeling heavier by the second. The blood running down your face was starting to drip from off your eyelashes, staining your bandana.

"Shit! He can dodge my nail bullets at this distance!" You whipped around to find Johnny pinned under the monster, his nails useless against it. He had been laying in a way that he couldn't see you, and you almost sighed in relief. Now you could grab your hat and— the monster swung its arm, claw ready to slash through Johnny's throat. You didn't have a second to think as you lunged between the claw and Johnny, grabbing his shoulders and rolling into the wall as Gyro's steel ball made the monster step backward.

𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˢᵗᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵃˡˡ ʳᵘⁿWhere stories live. Discover now