Dandys World: T.B.O.T.G. (infection Au)

Chapter 4: The first Claim

IM SO SORRY CARMEN🙁🙁🙁

Keep in mind I make mistakes while writing, please tell me any you spot!!!

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The forest loomed heavy around them, its thick canopy casting eerie shadows across the ground as the group of toons pushed forward. They moved with desperation, each step faster than the last, as if running could somehow keep the infection at bay. They had survived the encounter with the ichor creature, but its presence lingered like a storm cloud on the horizon. What frightened them most wasn't just the ichor's hunger for new hosts—it was the knowledge that it could be inside any one of them.

Rodger's eyes kept darting toward the vial of ichor in his hand, the thick black liquid inside pulsing faintly. It felt alive. Not just alive, but aware. It seemed to pulse faster, harder, as though it could sense the fear within the group, feeding off their anxiety. Every few steps, he would glance over at his companions, trying to spot the smallest sign of infection. He hated himself for doing it—hated how suspicious the ichor had made him. But he couldn't afford to trust blindly. Not now.

Shelly had been walking toward the back of the group, her tan shell and simple overalls blending in with the autumn colors of the forest. Though normally a beacon of optimism, Shelly had been quiet ever since they left the workshop. The shadows under her eyes spoke of exhaustion, and her usual words of encouragement were noticeably absent. She had been pushing herself to keep the group's spirits up, but now even her boundless energy seemed to have run dry.

"Rodger," Shelly said, her voice low and strained. "I don't feel so good."

Rodger turned to see Shelly stumble, her hand reaching for her chest as if trying to steady her breathing. His heart lurched in his chest, a sickening dread seizing him.

"Shelly?" His voice was full of concern, but deep down, he already knew what was happening.

Shelly collapsed to her knees, her face contorted in pain. Her shell quivered violently, and her limbs twitched as though fighting against an unseen force.

"**Shelly!**" Vee cried out, rushing over to her side. The green light from Vee's screen flickered wildly, reflecting the chaos of her emotions as she knelt beside her friend. "Shelly, what's wrong? What's happening to you?"

Rodger rushed over too, the rest of the group forming a circle around the fallen toon. "We have to get her up—get her moving. It's the only chance she has."

But Shelly's breaths were becoming more erratic. Her eyes widened, filled with terror. "I—it's inside me," she gasped, clutching her chest. "I don't know how, but it's... spreading. Oh no, oh no, no!"

Rodger's mind raced. How could this have happened? Shelly hadn't been near the ichor, hadn't been exposed as far as he could tell. They had been so careful. But the signs were unmistakable: the shallow, rapid breathing, the cold sweat, the black veins creeping beneath her skin.

Finn's voice was shaky as he tried to process what was happening. "She—she was fine before! How did this—how did she get infected?"

Sprout, the calmest of the group but no less shaken, placed his hand over Shelly's chest. His ability to sense a toon's remaining hearts was a sobering tool, one he wished he didn't have to use so often these days. His strawberry-shaped head drooped as he closed his eyes and concentrated.

Sprout's expression became grim. "She's already lost a heart," he whispered. "The infection... it's moving fast."

Vee's screen flickered with panic. She gripped Shelly's hand, her voice trembling. "No, no, Shelly, we'll fix this. We'll find a way to stop it. We always do! You're the one who keeps us going, Shelly. You can't—" Her voice cracked, the static on her screen intensifying as the reality of the situation hit her. "You can't leave us. Not like this."