Trust comes at a certain level.
.
Sam sighed as she and Stitch continued up the hill of an empty looking city.
They had driven for two hours and Sam couldn't stop yawning.
Music blasted out of the radio, Stitch didn't seem to be bothered by it, but it was more to keep her awake than anything.
"...So," Sam began, saying whatever came to mind. "Er..."
"You seem different." Stitch muttered randomly as he sat in the passenger seat with his arms wrapped around his knees.
"...I guess."
He glanced at Sam with one eye, the other staring straight ahead. "I'm curious. How did it happen?"
For a moment, Sam had to think about the question he just asked.
What did he mean by that?
Rain began to patter on the car's windows as they drove further into the road.
"What do you mean?"
He cocked his head to the side as if he had no bones in his neck. "Everything."
Clearing her throat, she contemplated her answer.
Tricky...
"Same question I have for you, though we both know we ain't answering to that very soon."
"Then let me ask this; why are you putting effort into this?"
Everything was silent once again.
Why was she putting effort into this?
She shook her head. "Honestly, I don't know."
Hours had passed by and they had finally made it into another city.
Stitch suggested they parked the stolen car behind a building and find somewhere to sleep.
It was lucky they had stolen some money from their last victim or they would have slept on the streets.
Once sorted out, the two earned themselves some hotel room keys.
"Come on!" Sam dragged Stitch behind her as she noticed him eyeing people with a look of interest in his eye.
"Listen, Stitch," Sam began, shutting the door behind her with a click. "While we're here, we have to act...normal. Keep out of trouble, compeesh?"
Exhausted with their journey, the two found a comfortable spot to sleep; Stitch on the bed and Sam on the couch.
If the two weren't so low on energy, they might have noticed the eyes that watched them throughout the night.
If that had happened, none of what were to happen next happened. Wether it was good or bad.
But it was too late for anything now.
.
"Will somebody pleeease shut her up!?" Zalgo rubbed his temples as the blindfolded Sally continued to wail loudly.
After three minutes of struggling, someone finally managed to muffle the racket with a rag.
"Thank you!" Zalgo sighed with not the slightest bit of true gratitude.
By now his human skin was beginning to peel away, revealing flesh beneath. But he didn't seem bothered by that.
His eyes shifted from Sally to The Puppeteer - who had been reluctant to leave the child's side.
