The Red String || A SMG34 fanfic

Chapter 2 - The Prowler

Stepping inside, SMG3 was careful not to touch anything. He had seen how powerful this trend was and didn't want to risk turning into a weird version of himself as well. He was already a weird version of Mario, who KNOWS what he could turn into.

Looking at the buildings around the lake he couldn't make out a specific pattern. One of the buildings seemed to be a Coffee Shop. But instead of run-down and stinky, like the Starbucks in the centre of the graveyard, this one looked lovely and full of plants and books. SMG3 almost wanted to go inside, but as long as he didn't know what trend he was dealing with it wasn't save to interact with any of these things.

The next building he looked at seemed to be a Hotel of some sorts. The sign at the front said "Only one bed per room 😉" which confused SMG3; What kind of hotel would force people to share a bed? He stepped away from the hotel and continued investigating.

The other buildings were all similarly weird and disconnected. SMG3 kept up with Meme culture and could therefore usually guess what a trend was, when it joined the graveyard, but this all seemed very unfamiliar to him. He took photos of everything and made a mental note to go ask his fellow Meme Guardian later, if HE had any idea, what trend this was.

After looking at all the buildings, SMG3 made his way to the lake in the middle. Most of the Memes that came in contact with this trend described either drinking or bathing in the lake water, which lead SMG3 to assume that this was the source of most of the trend's influence. SMG3 put down his backpack and quickly put on some protective gear.

Whatever was in this water, he wasn't going to risk getting it on his skin. After putting on the gear, SMG3 pulled out a small glass flask and walked towards the lake to collect a water sample. He was nervous, but knew that the first step to deal with a problem, was understanding it. And for that, he needed a water sample. "For science!"

Maybe, if SMG3 hadn't been so nervous about this whole thing, he could have prevented what followed next.

Maybe, if he had checked his protective gear more carefully, instead of rushing to put it on, he would have noticed the small tear on the glove of his left hand, that revealed a tiny part of his pinkie finger.

Maybe, if he had just brought a syringe or something similar to collect the water sample, he wouldn't have had to dip his hand in the water.

But he didn't.

And that was his biggest mistake.

As soon as the water made contact with SMG3's pinkie finger, he knew he fucked up.

He immediately felt an energy coming from his finger that was strong enough to push him back. The glass flask shattered in his hand, leaving only shards and he hit the floor behind him with a loud THUD.
For a second he just laid there, trying to come to terms with that just happened.

All he knew is that he wasn't dead; He could still feel the grass below him, hear the birds chirping and feel the weird feeling coming from his finger.

His finger.

He sat back up with a groan, his back hurt from the fall but he needed to check out his hand and make sure nothing was broken. He slowly pulled off his glove, glancing at the tear that caused all of this. He needs to remember to buy new gloves later.

He placed his glove next to him and then shifted his attention to his pinkie finger. When he saw something red he was scared, that the glass shatters had cut his hand, but upon further investigation, SMG3 noticed that the red thing around his finger wasn't blood: It was a string.

A thin red string, made of what seemed like yarn, wrapped around his left pinkie finger at the exact spot the water had hit his hand.

The string wasn't wrapped tightly around his finger, but no matter how hard SMG3 pulled he couldn't get it off. It was like it was glued to his finger.

SMG3's pinkie was wrapped with one end of the string and from the looks of it, the string continued far into the distance to some unknown place that SMG3 couldn't see.

Not wanting to deal with random, magical strings, SMG3 pulled out a small knife he had brought to try and cut the string off, but the knife went right through the string.

It clearly wasn't a physical thing, as he saw it go through the trees and building without any regards for the laws of physics, but he could still feel it and interact with it.

When he pulled on it, he even felt a resistance, like he couldn't pull the other end of the string towards him.

Like it was tied to something.

As much as SMG3 wanted to keep playing around with the string around his finger and figuring out where it lead to, he also noticed how dark the forest around him had gotten. How long had he been here? Eggdog must be worried and he hadn't even BEGUN doing what he came here to do. SMG3 got up and quickly put around some warning tape and signs he had brought to prevent other Memes from stepping inside. SMG3 hadn't figured out what this trend was, but he was going to stop it from messing with any more of the Memes here.

During the whole time he was setting up warning signs and taping off the area, the string on his finger never went away, never loosened and always continued pointing at the same direction like a compass. SMG3 debated simply ignoring the red string and hoping it would go away but he knew this was one of those problems he had to deal with sooner or later.

And the sooner he got back home, the sooner he could think about what to do.

So he quickly finished securing the area, put his backpack back on, and walked along the path back to his home.