When Violence Ensues: Slenderverse Short Stories.

Story Eighty Nine: I want.

All Evan wanted was to be himself again.

Unable to differentiate when he was a puppet and when he wasn't; the male found that the line within his mind had become so blurred that opening his eyes felt as though it was against his will. Everything hurt; all the time. The pain was constant, and got worse the colder it got outside. Perhaps this was why he was now wrapped in a massive, fluffy blanket on Patrick's couch.

"So, why did he tell you to come here, of all places?" Patrick questioned, his head tilted to the side as Evan sniffled and shrugged his shoulders despite the dull ache that was deep in his back,

"I don't know. He told me to come here or he'd drag me here. I'm taking a guess, but I think it has something to do with you. He's gone pretty fucking quiet." The dark haired man sighed in response, before giving a quiet wince as his head began to hurt.

The first warning sign.

"A headache?" Patrick asked, voice like silk. Evan nodded, and simply closed his eyes and leaned back into the couch,

"I'm sorry for whatever he says or does." He winced, as the blonde other gave a soft chuckle and shook his head,

"You need not apologise. We have history, I am quite used to him and his antics. You are safe here, Evan." Patrick soothed, much to the pained other's relief. Although he had been warned by HABIT not to trust the well-dressed man seated just mere metres away, Evan decided that if he was going to die here- so be it.

Patrick had been nicer than the rest, at least.

"It seems as though he has sent you here, to then come and have a conversation with me. He must want you to remember how to get here, for future reference." Patrick mused thoughtfully, sitting upright on a kitchen chair, "Do not fight him, Evan. Whatever occurs, will occur. If you wake up here and I am gone; do not fret. Stay as long as you need to recover."

"Thanks, Patrick. Sorry."

"Do not be." Patrick chuckled, a genuine smile on his lips. This was the last thing Evan saw, before he sank into unconsciousness and HABIT flooded forward- as if putting on his favourite shirt.

Patrick tensed, like a cat, as the energy in the room changed, and Evan's eyes opened to reveal a dark purple colour. Dark eyes met a light gaze, and a grin pulled at the shorter man's lips, "Long time no see, Patty."

In response, the blonde rolled his eyes and sighed; as if irritated, "Start taking better care of your vessels and you will find it much easier to get to and from places."

HABIT smirked despite the lecture, and shrugged his shoulders as Patrick pulled himself up from the chair. The vindictive man threw the blanket from off of his shoulders and stood from the couch- stretching out and gently sighing at the satisfying pop  of his joints. Perhaps there was some truth to Patrick's words- taking more care of his vessel would make things easier.

But it was effort.

"What brings you?" Patrick asked, neutrally. It was clear that HABIT's presence either unnerved or annoyed him- likely a healthy dose of both.

"Straight to business, I like that about you." HABIT began, giving a nod before tilting his head, "I need the clock hands, now, you're gonna help me out on this one, Patty-"

"Why?"

Apparently interrupting wasn't a good move to make, because HABIT lunged across the room and grabbed Patrick by the throat, hissing, "Didn't you learn not to interrupt, you fucker? You're going to help me, because if you don't, Stick-In-The-Mud is gonna eat your entrails for breakfast."

Stick In The Mud.

Fear began to settle in the pit of Patrick's stomach, as HABIT let go with force- sending him crashing back into the wall. He'd both metaphorically and literally been backed into a corner, and now Patrick had no choice but to assist the malevolent entity in front of him.

Yet again.

"Fine." Patrick spat, coughing, glaring at the male in front of him, "Fine. I will get the clock hands. You will need to accompany me, and not complain the entire time." He grumbled, lightly running his fingers over the ghost of HABIT's fingers that he still felt on the skin of his neck. After getting what he wanted, and a little bit of sass from the taller other,  HABIT grinned menacingly and folded his arms across his chest; smug.

Patrick hated that stance. He despised the smugness with every fibre of his being, and the fact that HABIT had a way of implicating him into every single issue to do with the Tall Man.

In a way, the blonde knew this was payback. Purgatory for what happened so long ago between them. Deep inside of his chest, Patrick knew he deserved this.

He deserved the eternal torture HABIT brought like a thunderstorm.

He took, and he took, and he wanted until there was nothing left.

And that was well warranted.

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hello all!!

Been a really long time since I've posted anything slenderverse!! Recently rewatched EverymanHYBRID, so I got some inspiration back!!

I hope you guys have been well despite everything, and please take care of yourselves. You are ever so important.

also,, ACAB.

Black Lives Matter, always. And it's about time things started changing for the better.

Hold on, friends. Things will get better.

Until next time. <3