The Eden Projects (EDITING)

Chapter 12. Complicated.

-Present Day-

Zak froze. 

He was a deer staring down the front of something like an exotic car. 

Something fast and flashy. 

That was Ace. 

That was any situation that involved Ace. 

Fast, and flashy. 

"Archer, talk to me- are you alright?!?" He moved to take a step closer. Kasper was motionless, panting a few feet from where Archer sat slumped. Move- you have to move. He lowered his gun. Zak wondered why he even carried the thing in the first place, he never shot it. It was useless in his hands. 

Ace was finicking with his blade, and by now, at least half the people he travelled with were all watching.

Zak knew there was nothing he could do. "Arch. Can you move?" He tried again, taking another step. 

Ace had triggered something deep within Kasper; it was the very thing they couldn't control, a volatile thoughtloop that sent him spiraling into nothing. One of his "moments." In that state, he was trapped somewhere in the labyrinth of his own mind; he was as dangerous as a Flicker, whose unpredictable nature could ignite catastrophe in an instant, maybe even worse. There was no reaching him, no breaking through the walls.

"Zak don't-" Archer slid away. Covering the bleeding wound on his side with a shaking hand. "Don't move. Just stay there. It's just a graze."

Kasper's breathing changed, quickening before snapping off at the end as his body pitched to the side. He rolled over onto his stomach in the direction of Archer, his heart racing and mind reeling from the remnants of a memory he couldn't quite grasp. "Urrghh—no—" he gasped, jolting awake with a start; he scrambled to get to his knees, pushing himself up with a sense of urgency, the world around him slowly coming into focus as he fought to shake off the remnants of sleep and the unsettling sensations coursing through him.

Archer had slid a good distance away and sat quietly, trying to stop the bleeding. "Ace-" Archer winced, "Do something you piece of shit-" shoving cloth into the wound. "Hurry-"

"Wake up, Kas - you have to wake up." Zak did his best "commanding" tone; it did nothing, his intent swallowed by the tension that hung dankly around them. 

Small spines and spikes had begun pushing their way through Kasper's skin, sharp and insistent, popping through his shirt along his spine where holes from the times before sat in rows, a grim reminder of transformations past. He was changing, and the reality of it settled like a weight upon Zak's chest. "KAS." The urgency in his voice deepened, desperation creeping in as he watched the scene unfold. 

Kasper's blood poured from the cuts in his skin, vibrant and alarming, gathering around them in inky pools. An ungodly popping came from his entire body, a cacophony of bone and sinew unsettlingly audible in the otherwise quiet tension. It was happening, and his bones began to readjust, cracking with each breath he took, the sound a grotesque symphony of his metamorphosis that left Zak standing helplessly by.