𓈊 The Red on My Face is Matching You

5

TW: description of gore/death

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"Mumbo," an all too familiar voice murmured from behind Mumbo in the nearly empty hallway. "Can I talk to you?"

Mumbo turned around to see Re- Gria- Sc- Etho fidgeting with the hem of their shirt. "What is it now, Etho?"

They glanced away. "Please call me Grian," they asked, then shifted uncomfortably. "I just... I need to tell you that you need to stay as far away from me as possible."

Huh?

"I'm dangerous, and if you get too close to me, then I'll lose control, and-"

"Woah, woah, woah," Mumbo stopped them, lifting his hands. "You're not saying what I think you're saying... are you? Because if you are, then you-"

"I killed those people," Grian said. "Well, I didn't. I was one of them. But- Agh, that doesn't matter," they grumbled. "Just stay away from me, okay? You did the right thing by pushing Etho away. I don't want to see you get hurt."

They stood in silence for a moment before Grian turned around and began to walk away.

But Mumbo still had so many questions.

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"What're you thinking about?" Zedaph asked in-between classes, nudging Mumbo slightly with his poor sense of walking in a straight line.

Mumbo sighed. "Grian came up to me earlier," he said, to which Bdubs groaned. "They said that I was right to push them away... And they confessed to killing those kids."

The other three stopped in the middle of the hall, confusing Mumbo.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Mumbo, we have to call the police," Zed said, concern and worry written all over his face. "They're a murderer."

Mumbo blinked, then shook his head. "Wait, don't do that," he said, realising he left out an important detail. "They said something about they didn't do it but they were one of the people killed."

Bdubs stared blankly at Mumbo. "What?"

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Mumbo couldn't stop thinking about Grian for the rest of the day, but less in a romantic way and much more in a very confused way. He had so many questions for them. What did they mean when they said they were one of the people murdered? Why were they murdered? Who murdered them? Why did murdering others create a sort of DID system of alters? Why were they worried about Mumbo's safety? Was their murderer planning on hurting him?

Mumbo wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

Unfortunately for him, Grian ran away every time he tried to approach them.

"Grian, wait!" Mumbo called after them as they sped up their walking pace after noticing him. He ignored the looks he got from his friends as he picked up his pace to follow the other. "I really need to talk to you!"

"No," Grian said over their shoulder, "you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

Grian sighed and started to run, making Mumbo groan in annoyance as he also ran. He'd follow them home if he had to, he needed to have his questions answered.

"Stop following me!" Grian shouted, turning around to throw a pencil at Mumbo. "I told you to stay away- Ah!" They squealed as they tripped over a rock, landing in someone's driveway as a car was pulling out of it. They squeezed their eyes shut to brace for impact when Mumbo reached for their hand and pulled them out of the car's way. Grian immediately began to squirm, trying their hardest to get out of Mumbo's hold. "Let- go- of- me!"

"Why won't you just give me a chance to talk to you?!" Mumbo shouted, making Grian wince. They stopped struggling and Mumbo slowly let go. "I just want to ask some questions."

"The more you talk to me, the more danger you're in," Grian said. "Just leave me alone. I don't want you to get hurt."

Mumbo threw his head back as he groaned, running a hand down his face. "Why are you so concerned about me getting hurt?" he demanded. "Who's going to hurt me?"

Grian stared at him, their eyes beginning to water. "My hands are going to hurt you," they said. "I won't be able to control my body if you stay around me for too long." They sobbed and hid their face in their hands. "I love you too much to let myself hurt you. I've hurt too many people-"

"Can I just ask three questions?" Mumbo asked softly. "I don't want to stress you out, but I really want to know what's going on."

Grian sniffled and wiped at their eyes. "I... fine," they huffed, the intimidation of their anger muffled by the their now nasally voice. "Three questions."

"Who killed you?"

They froze, then laughed. "I wasn't expecting that as a first question, but okay," they said, wiping their wet hand on their shirt. "Uh- It's hard to explain..."

"I'm all ears," Mumbo said, and Grian paused, glancing away.

They took a moment to respond, fidgeting nervously. "You'll probably call me crazy, but... there's this, uh, monster, I guess- called Xelqua," they explained. "They're an obsessive creature, willing to do anything to be with the person they love most... even killing them and pulling out all of their non-essential organs to climb inside their body and be one with them." Mumbo shivered uncomfortably at that. "They find new people once their host's body begins to rot. I'm one of their hosts."

Mumbo didn't know what to think. He never knew any person could be so obsessive to do that. Though, he guessed Xelqua wasn't even a person in the first place.

"Xelqua keeps their host's conscious alive to be one with them," Grian continued. "And they collect the consciousnesses of other people they fall in love with, as well as their organs for when they need a new host. It's... disgusting."

"...And I guess I don't need to ask why they killed you, then," Mumbo said uncomfortably. "Or... any other of my questions, for that matter." Except for one...

Grian blinked. "I really answered all of your questions?" they asked. "Great! Now we can go our seperate ways and never see each other again!" They turned around started down the sidewalk.

Mumbo didn't have the strength to stop them and ask them his last question.

What happens to Grian's and all those poor people's consciousnesses?