MCYT Oneshots

Haunted Quackity

At first, Quackity hadn't paid any mind to strange happenings, playing it off as the adrenaline and confusion of the quick-moving nation. It had been subtle things that had piled up, covered by the frantic cleanup of tyranny and the explosions. The citizens were worn out, battered, and bruised, but they would find solace in each other. They would solace in the comfort of a new life, unburdened by that monster's legacy.

It was small things at first, such as the smell of cigarette smoke he could never wash away. He scrubbed and perfumed the tracksuit and tie, but that damned smell of cigarette smoke never faded. It burned his throat even now, such a subtle change that plagued him to stay painfully awake.

The next thing he had begun to notice was a single Schlatt-coin scattered throughout his apartment, resting on windowsills and tucked into his pockets. It was easy to play off as misplacing it, at first, having told him himself repeatedly to throw it away, but always procrastinating doing so.

It got harder to excuse when Quackity knew he dropped it down a storm drain, only to find it cold and soaked in his jacket pocket. Perhaps, it was just a dream. That was the only rational excuse anymore. The next day, Quackity tried throwing it as hard as he could into the ocean yet within the day he found the coin under the plans for rebuilding.

It didn't take long for paranoia to set in, pulling aside Tubbo and shouting at him as if this was some stupid prank. Only Tubbo should have known he had the coin unless he had told Tommy. Or Techno. Or everyone! No, no, no, no one was supposed to know he had the stupid coin they would think he was still loyal, they would throw him out, they would hate him...Quackity couldn't bear the idea of being alone again.

Tubbo had done his best to calm Quackity, but he didn't understand. It was strange watching his Vice President mentality crumple in on himself till he was only a husk. As far he could tell, Tubbo wasn't lying nor playing a prank on him, but what other explanation for the awful coin?

Come December, Quackity had confirmation. He clutched the coin above the garbage disposal, breath hitching in his throat unable to accept the idea he was going to destroy it. It was the last one, the only one left, and he was going to destroy it. Quackity was white-knuckled gripping the coin above the drain, but as he went to open his hand he froze. Not purposely, it felt like a hand had closed over his, forcing him to stay still. He knew it in his heart even despite fully disbelieving it. The hoof-like fingertips and callused hands, sewn with the idea of hard work.

'You're imagining things. He's been dead for a month. This is just a hallucination, you're scared of nothing.'

'Then open your hand.'

Quackity couldn't move. The grip stopping him from opening his hand was cold enough that his fingertips had begun to go numb. It had only been a split-second that he had been stopped, yet the time had dragged on to feeling like years. It was just so familiar, if he were to step back right now he would have run into Schlatt, if he reached his other hand up he would find his fingers resting on those ridiculous curved horns.

'He's dead Quackity! He's gone! Stop being afraid of him! He's dead, and you saw it!'

Quackity's eyes caught the edge of the faucet, heart skipping a beat. A solid black figure loomed just behind him, close enough he should have been able to feel it's breath on the back of his neck. No, not it's breath, his breath. Quackity even as hard as he prayed this wasn't real, there was no denying the familiar curve of the horns, the soft outlines of the ears, the hands tightly enveloping his to keep it from dropping the coin down the drain.

The moment he recognized who it was, Quackity eloped and launched himself away from the counter. He found nothing behind him, stumbling and falling onto his back painfully. Quackity could hardly breathe, panicked looking around the darkened room. There were no more colds hands on him, no more lingering feeling of coldness against his back.