Tasmanian Terrors

A Tazzy Exposition

He was on the trail of something. What exactly it was, he couldn't really figure out nor remember. His thought process was hazy due to the effects of his power suit malfunction. What Chris could figure out, however, was that this thing was something worth pursuing. So that's exactly what he did, chase whatever he was chasing.

Through his clouded mind, he was able to piece together that this was a person he was chasing. The footprints left behind were that of a hiker's boot. As his prey went flailing, dashing through the thick underbrush, Chris stuck to the trees, proving to be much easier to track his victim by leaping from branch to branch above. He kept a careful eye out for rustling brush or the faintest glint of blood in the moonlight.

Eventually, his prey managed to corner themselves in a ravine, desperately trying to climb up the rocky walls to no avail. Chris leaped down from his tree as his victim turned around, realizing they were trapped. Chris started approaching, slightly hunched over with clawed hands at the ready. The person, a man, was begging Chris to think straight.

"C'mon Chris, i-its me. You're not in your right mind, p-please just let me help you." the man pleaded, backing up until his back was pressed against the rocks.

His pleas were ignored however as Chris let out a low growl, lunging forward. The man screamed as Chris launched himself into the air, everything fading to black for the green-clad Kratt for a few moments.

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Dawn broke into the morning sky as Chris awoke, no longer in his Tasmanian devil suit and his head much clearer. Sitting up from where he was lying on the hard ground, Chris felt like something was off. He rubbed his tired eyes in an attempt to see clearly but stopped short when he felt something wet being smeared across his face. He brought his gloved hand away from his face and physically recoiled when he realized what it was.

Blood and it wasn't his. He stared at his hand with shocked horror, noticing that more of it coated not only both of his hands but a few blood stains were splattered onto his shirt as well. "If this isnt my blood then whose is it." he thought worriedly.

Chris quickly stood up and scanned his surroundings, his body swaying from the quickness and nausea he felt. There was nothing in front of him and that alone caused him more unease. Slowly turning around, he saw a man lying on the ground, the crimson liquid seeping from cuts and gashes on his body, pooling into a puddle underneath him.

Eyes widening, Chris took slow, disbelieving steps toward the motionless figure. He crouched down, reaching over with shaky hands. He flipped the dead man onto his back, gasping in horror. Chris fell backward, one hand on his mouth as tears started to well up in his eyes.

Martin. Looking from his hands to his brother, and back to his hands again, Chris was able to put two and two together. He shook his head in disbelief, crawling closer to Martin.

"M-Martin?" he whispered shakily. He shook his older brothers body.

"Come on, this isnt funny bro," more shaking "Get up."

Chris breathing picked up, his voice becoming more and more panicked the longer his brother remained unresponsive and still.

"No no no, p-please Martin, youve-youve gotta get up, please!" he cried out, desperately begging, pleading for Martin to wake, continuing to shake him.

"MARTIN!"

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"M-Martin..."

"What the" was the groggy response Martin let out upon hearing his name. He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to process why he was hearing his name being called. He took a look at his creature pod to see what time it was, noting that it was only four in the morning. He sighed grumpily, realizing Chris was the one calling him.

"Chrisss, if you're waking me up before the crack of dawn to go creature adventuring again then you've got another thing com-" his rant was cut short when he heard a whimper from across the room.

Looking over to where his sleeping brother lay on the floor in his own sleeping bag, Martin's gaze fell on the younger Kratt, tossing and turning uncomfortably whilst whimpering and calling out the elders name.

"Martin no, p-please."

Martin quickly got out of his sleeping bag, nearly tripping over his own feet to get over to where Chris was, calmly shaking his distressed brother to wake him up.

"Chris, hey, bro it's okay," reassured Martin, "you're dreaming, c'mon wake up."

A few more shakes later Chris sat up, panting heavily as his eyes darted frantically around the room and Martin kept a firm, gentle grip on his shoulder. When their eyes met, the blonde offered a small smile of reassurance. Chris lunged forward, launching himself into his brother's arms, sending them both, Martin with a yelp, onto the floor.

Martin winced upon landing on his back as the coldness of the tile sent a chill through his body. "Well, that might bruise." he thought to himself before shifting his attention back to his terrified little brother. Chris was shaking in Martin's arms, burying his face into the elder's chest as he silently cried.

Martin could feel the tears starting to wet his shirt. He wrapped his arms around the brunette and held him tighter, hoping this would calm him down. Martin's older sibling always kicked into full gear whenever Chris was upset, which didn't happen often. Chris only ever cried whenever he experienced an incredibly distressing event. This was definitely one of those moments.

Martin delicately cradled his brother's head, stroking his fingers through his hair, holding the younger close. Once Chris' tears weren't so prominent, that's when Martin began questioning Chris.

"Chris, are you okay?" Martin asked. A beat of silence before Chris replied with a shake of his head, opting not to look Marin in the eyes.

"Is it because of your dream?" he inquired. A head nod was the response he received.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Brief images of the nightmare flashed in his head causing him to squint his eyes and his hold on his brother's shirt tighter, frantically shaking his head no.

Martin sighed to himself, he had a feeling that would be the response he'd received. Chris never really liked having conversations about how he was feeling in intense situations already. Of course, he wouldn't want to talk about a dream that spooked him of all things.

"Chris, we really need to have a talk about these dreams, okay?" Martin started, beginning to rub small circles on Chris' back to further calm him down, "It's not good for you to keep them bottled in like this."

Chris gave a half-hearted hum of acknowledgment, finally managing to nod off. The two brothers lay in silence like this for a while until Martin heard Chris' soft snores. He reached over to tap his brother's green creature pod to check the time.

5:10

At that Martin, cautiously, managed to slip his brother back into his sleeping bag without disturbing him. Then, he tiptoed back over to where his sleeping bag lay before picking it up, tiptoeing back over to Chris, and laying it down next to him.

Martin slid into his sleeping bag, looking over at Chris one last time before giving a small, gentle ruffle to the brunette's hair. Earning a content sigh and a small smile from him, Martin couldn't help but smile back fondly in response. The older laid down completely, making a mental note to himself to make sure to have that talk with Chris.

Each time something like this happened, the younger Kratt managed to give him the slip and would avoid him as long as it took for Martin to forget or drop it. Martin made sure to remember that this time, he would catch Chris. No matter what it took, he was going to get to the bottom of whatever was causing Chris distress. With that notion, he closed his blue eyes and drifted off to sleep.