{BFDI} The Poison in Boinks

Despair Society

It had been twenty long years digging tunnels under Boinks. Match never thought she would get used to it, but as the time stacked on top of itself she had started to feel the rhythms of what to expect.

For most of the time she dug, or waited to dig. She punched her fingers into the dirt and ripped out everything as it fell to the floor. Tiny holes filled with sharp rocks that cut her hands making them rough, and sharp themselves.

There wasn't much else to think of or to look forward to than digging. Hours and hours of digging and waiting.
The dresser oversaw it all. He was the main leader of the pack she was a part of. All of these 'pack' objects were given the same commands at the same time for the most part.

If they ever got separated because one of them was given another command it could be days or even weeks before that object was seen again.

When they did return in the same work area as all the other objects in the pack, the pack made sure to stare at the lost member in appreciation that they were back. When the lost member had enough of the stares they were supposed to coo and the pack could focus on staring at the dirt wall again.

The pack leader was always the dresser, but the members of the pack were the square bamboo basket, the extension cord, the mechanical nut, the seashell, the schedule book, the cube of bread, the toy bin, the mason jar, the keyboard, and the garlic powder container. Twelve objects including Match herself. It was a lot of people, and they trusted one another, so they tried to all stick as close together as possible in order to all get the same commands at the same times.

Match respected the dresser, but her favorite people were the extension cord and the bamboo basket. When their desires vanished and they were given a break they would tend to stick together the closest out of the others in the group.

Match wished she knew anything about them. They just generally respected one another and refused to fight other infected to satisfy their desires. Match wondered if anybody from the pack actually knew that she was Match.

Would they even like her if they knew who she really was? Match had no way of knowing.
She didn't even know what her new head looked like.

There was never enough light to make a proper reflection anywhere, but by feeling her head she got the idea that it was shaped in a similar way to her old one. It grew out of her exploded remains like a mushroom, and was much more delicate and flexible than the rest of her. She could bend and twist her head like a real old fashioned neck, which she didn't have before.

Despite the fact that the infected around her might not know who she was, they still seemed to stick together all the same.

Dispite how often the infected dug, they also were assigned to hunt and patrol on the outskirts of the sewer territory.
They hunted and patrolled at the same time because edible rats and mice lived along the patrol lines, and patrolling by itself was usually pretty slow.
Objects didn't really need to eat, and neither did the parasites in consequence, but to create more spores, material was needed. Meat especially.

Meat was a great fuel for spores. Eventually after enough time passed the infected would spit out the finished spore.
The tiny computer chip bubbling with black ooze was one about the size of a fingernail, but all of the infected knew how powerful it was.

To spread it, was inevitable, and to grow and numbers was their only purpose.
Match's only purpose...

***

Up on patrol Match and the pack found a group of mice living behind a wooden board. The mice scattered in all directions. The pack began trying to pin down one, looking at them scrabble under their feet. Match had already found hers. It darted down the edge of the hall. Match followed after it and tried to trap it with her feet. She sat down and tried to combine her hands and her feet to make a trap but the mouse panicked and zipped down further, and turned a corner.