Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The dark outline of the blue horizon stretched wide over the forest. Thin trees with branches tangled unnaturally filled the forest. The short grass barely responded to the breeze that caressed its edges before it dispersed as if it had never even been there.

A town, bleeding its emptiness over the gray walls of the place that normal people don’t walk in. If one can call them people. To the average human eye they looked broken, slow in pace and empathy.

The houses creaked. Or was it a creak?

It’s hard to tell.

But the town wasn’t the unnerving part. No, no.

The aforementioned forest, which wasn’t far away from it, was. Trees that collided with each other and were barely moving, no matter how nasty the weather was. They were wood in the wrong way, bark way too flat, like it was barely even there. Barely real.

The wind shifted again. It changed direction, going deeper into the heart of the dark forest. Moving around trees with ease. Then, it breezed past a well.

This well was the heartbeat of this place. The stone took breaths as if it were a living being. Chirps of the near bird nest were hollow, so the average person would mistake it as their own voice coming back to them. Slight light fell on plastic grass. A sincerely dull light, bleeding from gray to black, to an abomination of multiple colors. They lingered in the grass as if it was their home.

The shadows.

The things that were called shadows crawled crookedly across stiff earth, movements lazy. Their muscles could only drag them so far.

Unknown creatures crowded around the well, eyes flickering in all directions. Well, one big humanoid eye that didn’t properly connect with the body. Shadows' upper bodies snapped in quick motions as they simply waited.

The environment itself seemed impatient, rocks pulsing in and out of sight. Flowers head’s rotated, specks of grinning colors. Minutes stretched into hours. Maybe days? Perhaps.

One shadow’s head turned sharply.

A black labrador sat close enough to the well, pelt not even ruffling at the sudden gust of wind. Dog’s fur shone an unnatural light at the shadow men, which didn’t bother taking a step towards the canine. Red eyes gleamed brightly, hungrier than usual. Shadow men knew that look in the dog's eyes, those red dots of suffering. The tongue flicked in and out and the breathing was difficult to listen to. Labrador’s eerie gaze raked over the creeping shadows, mouth shaped into something similar to a grin.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to.

All he did was tilt his head towards the dark.

The air got torn and a different landscape could be seen in reality's wound. Buildings against the clear night sky stretched wider, cars passed and few people emerged their heads from the vehicle’s windows. The wild, unbothered laughter rang out from the city when those same people scrambled out of the car, approaching a restaurant. A couple skated in the ice rink, even if signs of snow weren’t on the horizon yet. The girl lost her footing and tripped, earning a yelp from her partner. He bends down, gaze concerned.

The girl simply smiled, letting out a chuckle.

The wound gaped, bleeding that pure sight for everyone to see. The dog’s head tilted way too harshly for him to still be able to move it afterwards. The light in his red eyes flashed a darker shade of scarlet.

“Interesting.”

Slowly, the black horizon grew, welcoming their presence. The world’s size spreaded evenly, engulfing bleak corners of the dog's home.

Or was the other world engulfed by the hound’s home?

Greg let himself slump down on his bed. The moon’s light basked his covers in the dark room and the boy gazed at the ceiling. Today’s villains have been difficult. Which shouldn’t be surprising when considering that this needed to be a day where they all work together. The villains all decided to cause chaos in different parts of the city, which, Greg had to admit, was giving them trouble. And was worrying.

They were able to somehow stop them, although it took longer than normally. Way longer.
Greg’s muscles still felt sore from the fight they had with Romeo specifically. His new invention seemed more unhinged tonight. A robot dog which breathes explosive bubbles?

Good thing he didn’t put fire breath on it yet!

The boy sighed. Despite the undeniable exhaustion, sleep didn’t come. Were these night sessions really getting to the point where they are not even sleepy anymore?

The pj straightened in his bed. He stared out of the window at the night gleaming with stars, the moon still high and clear, hovering above the buildings. Greg watched for a moment, at last feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

Air outside glitched.

Greg’s eyes shot open, heart jumping at the sight. Did he really just see that? He looked and waited for any indication it would happen again. When it didn’t, Greg’s head flopped onto his pillow. His mind must be playing tricks on him.

Yawning, he closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

The Cat–Mobile hummed lightly as it ate away at the road ahead. Outside, streets were empty as usual. Catboy, who was in the driver’s seat, swerved right, making the street lamps light glint off the vehicle’s surface.

Both Owlette and Gekko were in the back seats, with the latter's gaze directed at the passing shapes of buildings as Catboy took another turn.

“There doesn’t seem to be anyone causing trouble.” Catboy said, confusion lacing his tone.

“Maybe they all are tired from the last fight?” Owlette suggested, equally cautious. Catboy shrugged. “Doubt it.”

“Maybe we should get back?” Gekko suggested suppressing a yawn. It was rare for them to be tired like this, but the night before had been difficult to deal with. Hopefully, there wasn’t any trouble and they could just go home to rest.

But of course things could never be that easy.

A crash sounded overhead. They halted with a screech, hoping out of the car just in time to see a body crumbling towards the ground. Silver hair was enough evidence to give away who it was. Luna.

She was still on her platform, and somehow, was able to bank so she didn't hit the ground. She turned in the air once before freezing.

To their shock, the moon girl’s face was deformed in horror. Her breaths were rapid, eyes pointed at something unidentifiable in the dark.

“Um, well that’s new.”

Catboy murmured while inspecting Luna, body tense in case it’s a trick.The moon girl’s crazed gaze wasn’t directed at them, instead it was everywhere else, as if she was suspecting somebody will attack her at any moment.

Three pj’s exchanged looks.

“Should we do something or?”

Gekko’s voice came out unsure. Owlette moved first, taking flight next to the petrified Luna.

“Luna? Are you okay?”

The moon girl’s head snapped at her voice, eyes widening like she just now noticed them. Owlette backed off slightly from the sudden glare.
“Mind your business, pj pests!”

She snarled and turned sharply, disappearing behind a building. Silent night air was the only noise for some time. Three of them stood awkwardly in that silence, not sure what to make out off Luna's behaviour.

“So, that just happened.”

Gekko spoke, watching where Luna was moments before.

“Yea. What could have happened to make Luna of all people act that way?” Catboy questioned, tone unexpectedly shaken.

Gekko stared at the sky.

“She looked scared.” Owlette said in a whisper.

They didn’t know what to say to that.

The lamp closest to Gekko got split in two, then got fixed all in the same swoop. He looked at the lamp wide eyed. What is going on?

Air around them turned cold. No different from ice shards stabbing into skin. A rasping hum filled the environment, vibrating off every corner. Gekko’s heart leapt into his throat. Some strange feeling told him to leave this instant, pulling him far away from any comfort. Catboy, like he read his mind, muttered..

“Let’s return to HQ.”

Next day at school wasn’t as eventful. But after the last two days? Greg didn’t mind. Currently, he was playing absently with his pencil while the teacher rambled about algebra. Greg still could feel the harsh cold seeping into him from the night before and a shiver ran up his spine.

His mind barely comprehended a bell that signaled the end of this class. And school.

Slanging a backpack around his shoulder, Greg walked outside. It didn’t take long for him to spot Connor and Amaya leaving side by side.

He scampered to them.

“Are we gonna talk about last night?”

Two of them shared a worried look.
“I think we should have an eye out for anything weird.” Amaya spoke. Clearly, neither her or Connor had intent on reminiscing about the event. And Greg wasn’t too disappointed.

“Maybe Luna was just messing with us?” Connor suggested and Amaya only shook her head in response. “No. Something really upset her.”

Greg didn’t like how that was most likely the truth.

Three friends had to split halfway, heading towards their homes. Greg passed by a lamp that glitched out yesterday. He ignored the creeping feeling, continuing his way through the alleyway.

He halted.

There it was again. That ice cold pressure on his body. As if the alleyway felt the change in the air too, the walls shook slightly, making Greg back a step. He tried to seize his thumping heart, but the edging feeling didn’t vanish.

Greg turned away, then stilted.

In the darkest corners of the street, a figure stood, unmovable.

Chapter Text

Greg didn’t move.

He was focused on the shape hiding itself in the alleyway's corner. Back turned, the shape didn’t notice him. Greg strained to hear the barely noticeable breathing, yet by the looks of it, the figure's body didn’t give away any signs it was breathing.

A whirlwind of questions formed in the boy’s mind, but he suppressed them... for now. Maybe the kid was lost? Wasn’t out of the question. He stepped forward. Some weird instinct told him to run out of here, but he couldn’t just leave the kid alone, not without checking at least.

“Hey, is everything okay? You look lonely”

The quiet breathing intensified by little as the child turned its head. Greg caught a glint of one blue eye as it happened. He tried to ignore the gnawing fear that stirred in his mind. The awkward silence from the kid didn’t make matters any better.

Greg tensed when the child fully turned.

The boy in front of him was about the same age as him, clothes dark, blending with the shadows. So much that Greg needed to squint just to see him somewhat. His hands as if it were burned, making Greg wonder what caused it.

Greg’s gaze, however, was focused on the child’s face. A ski mask covered the facial features underneath, old and worn out. Two eyes stared at him, their glow strangely dulled, hard to tell which color they were.

He swallowed, trying to push away his anxiety.

“What’s your name?”

The boy didn’t seem to hear him.

“You should leave.”

His voice was rough, and he didn't sound like a boy his age. An unworldly echo laced his tone and Greg yet again, had an urge to run.

“W–Why?”

Boy’s gaze scanned the gloomy corners of the street, then turned to the confused Greg again.

“Leave. I won’t ask you again.”

The disinterest in his voice morphed to anger. Greg didn’t pry further. Instead, he ran, leaving the creepy boy far behind him. Awful feeling in his stomach didn’t cease even when he left those streets. The young pj still felt the boy's eyes boring into him. Through him, he could read every thought. Every inch of him.

Once he finally barged into his house, he got to his room. He slammed the door a bit too loud. The boy tried to calm his breathing, to stiffen the weight on his chest. He had no idea what that kid’s problem was or where he came from. Greg definitely doesn’t see him at school, at parties, or anywhere else really.

So who is he?

And why did he scare him off with such a creepy warning?

The blonde began rummaging hastily through his backpack. Maybe he will start doing his homework. That should keep his mind off whatever just happened.

Gekko evaded a blast from Luna and audibly groaned. Three of them were currently in another scuffle against her. She didn’t seem to have any previous fear left from the night before. Like she didn’t show any in the first place.

The moon girl now had only a smirk on her face, flying above them with confidence.

“You never know when to give up do you?”

They tensed, waiting for whatever she will do next.

None of them had a chance to find out, as the black skies shrieked.

The sound was more of a cry, unnerving everyone who had the displeasure to witness it. Catboy’s tail fluffed up at it, while Owlette landed eyes wide. Luna herself flew paralyzed for a few moments. Her platform swayed.

She yelped in surprise as the platform plummeted. Luna didn’t make contact with the floor when Gekko caught her in his arms. The girl wiggled out of the hero’s grip, studying her hands in panic.

“Luna, what’s wrong?” he asked, careful not to spite her.

Her answer didn’t come immediately. She hardly noticed them, glancing at the sky.

“My powers…they are gone!”

Catboy and Owlette had the same stunned expression. Gekko followed their gaze, before freezing.

Glowing, high up against terrifyingly dark clouds, was a crimson eclipse.

Chapter Text

There was silence.

The group of them still stood paralyzed at the sight of the red moon. So bright. Its edges are almost dripping blood.

Luna’s eyes darted left from right as she backed away. Gekko quickly caught the action, turning towards her.

“Luna?”

She glanced at something behind his shoulder, eyes haunted. Gekko felt a shiver climb up his spine. That same shiver when they last meet Luna. Where she was scared. And now, she looked even worse.

Gekko followed where her gaze was directed and saw nothing except for thick darkness. But Luna clearly did see something. The girl walked backwards, stance defensive.

“Get away from me you freak!” she shouted at nothing.

Without much thought, Luna ran. Gekko prepared to catch up till Catboy gripped his shoulder.

“Nope. You guys stay here. I will see what’s up with Luna.”

His voice held worry which Gekko never heard from him before. It made him pause, watching Catboy use super cat speed. He zipped right, where Luna went behind a grocery store. When the hero inspected it, he didn’t find Luna.

No, he found someone else.

A boy, back facing the glassy walls. Light from the streetlamp glinted off one side of his face, making some of it visible. Studying him, Catboy realized he looked…robotic. Skin too smooth, plastic. Similiar to the thing he leaned against.

Brown eyes stared aimlessly, not paying any attention to the cat hero. Catboy’s ears went flat as he noticed liquid staining the kid’s sleeve. Red. Coating the gray pavement and in it someone’s body. Unmoving.

Catboy’s vision flared.

“You, who are you and what are you doing?”

The boy’s head whipped to him, face blank. Unsettlement settled into his stomach, yet he ignored it. The former boy carefully studied him the same way he did him, even if his eyes flickered with something unreadable. Catboy didn’t like the way his skin felt under that stare.
Abruptly, he pried his gaze off Catboy. He yanked one of his legs backwards, then kicked the body, which was stained with blood. With a slop, it vanished somewhere in the dark.

Catboy leaped forward.

The hero’s hands caught nothing as the boy dispersed, morphing into mist. Catboy stood crouched, breathing sharp, for which it seemed like eternity. Tail flicking back and forth, he straightened up. He left the place, not wanting to look at the thrown away body. Leaving was the only important thing on his mind right now.

The hero didn’t catch one eye peering at him from the wall.

That same night, Connor couldn’t sleep after the incident. The moon outside his window pulsated weirdly, its light turning the room red. He told nothing about the boy to Amaya and Greg. They deserve to be spared from the sight he witnessed. From that boy’s lifeless eyes he used to study him like he was a toy which he can play with.

Connor’s face spasmed.

Or…was he looking at him that way? Or did he see something else?

Why was he hesitating so much all of a sudden?

A bloodied, unidentified body flashed through Connor’s mind again.

The boy shuddered, covering his head with the pillow. One thing was for sure. Whoever that was, he meant bad news. And he and his team wouldn’t just let him do as he pleases.

Chapter Text

The cars rumbled through the city.

But Greg barely heard anything. Ever since the last couple of days, he spent less and less time with Connor and Amaya. They were busy, catching up to sleep.

He didn’t mind that.

And the red moon incident wasn’t taken by anyone well. He tensed upon remembering Luna’s fear, insane gleam in her eyes, the eclipse appearing when it really shouldn’t yet. Shock on his friend’s faces, unusual anger from Catboy when he returned from running after Luna.

He didn’t say what’s wrong. The cat hero simply demanded they go home, claiming it was nothing. Yet, Greg didn’t miss the way his teeth clenched, fists shook at his sides or the anxious lashing of his tail. But something was wrong.

Something wasn't right.

Greg sighed, turning his attention off the dinosaur book he was reading. His mind cannot concentrate on anything. Not even on the things he likes. Rearing away from his table, the boy looked at the window. The skies were orange, clearly indicating the afternoon.

He thought for a moment.

Maybe he should go outside. Just to breathe some fresh air. Being locked in this house all the time was getting suffocating anyways.

Greg ran down the stairs and opened the doors. His parents weren’t home and they usually left the house unlocked for him. it could simply be locked again with the keys they gave him.

With a satisfying click, they opened, and he stepped outside. Warm wind singed his skin, somewhat calming him. The preceding walk through the city was uneventful, though, Greg would prefer if it stayed that way.

He was focused on the sidewalk in front of him. Anything just to stop this swirling thoughts in his head.

That thoughts intensified when he looked up. His heart leaped in his throat when he noticed the person standing, or more like, taking support against bricked wall of a random building.

The masked kid.

Greg stared at him, hesitating. The last night didn’t go well. It wasn’t helping that the weird things happening in the city started when he met him. He doesn’t even know his name.

The blonde let out a breath and took a step forward. Former whipped his head around, that dead gaze locking Greg on the spot. This time, he forced the paralyzing fear at the back of his head, then let out a forced.

“Hi”

No answer.The kid just examined him carefully as if he was an animal waiting to be studied. Greg ignored the stare, keeping his words going.

“I am sorry if I upset you the other day. It’s just…I was a bit confused.” he evaded the eye contact, but he still could feel his eyes perceing through despite that. He strached the back of his head, sudden awkwardness overlapping him.

“You were alone.”

Greg kept his eyes locked to the distance as he spoke, to afraid to meet the eerie kid’s expression.

“I felt weird just leaving you without saying anything. It didn’t feel right.”

What am I even doing? He obviously doesn’t want my help.

Greg shuffled nervously, eyes flicking to the house, then back towards the masked child. Cringe shot through him and he bit his lip.

The quiet atmosphere stretched, letting the tension sink in fully between them. It was like air itself found Greg’s attempts to talk to this kid futile. And the whole time, the former kid simply watched. Till his voice, hoarse, effective at making Greg recoil, came.

“Go away”

Greg’s jaw opened slightly. As if he changed his mind, he closed them just as fast and turned away.

“I understand. But if you want to talk to anyone I am here.”

Without uttering another word, Greg sauntered away, feeling the kid’s cold gaze against his back. And he felt it the whole walk, until at last, entering the house. A click after he shut the door suddenly felt so loud.

Amaya let out a tired sigh. Sun light up the school playground, revealing ten kids playing football, with her observing on the sidelines. The book she was reading for class laid forgotten in the girl’s lap. Focus was not coming today.

That frustrated her. it seems like everything felt more unusual lately. But she wasn’t about to think about that dark moon again, its glow unnatural, look fake but still real, frame practically pulsing read as if it was made of-

Amaya shook her head. She closed her book harshly and focused instead on the game. Cameron had the ball, dodging his classmates attempts at taking it out of his grasp. The sun beat harder now, glinting off the goal net. Almost as if it wanted to…reveal something.

Amaya’s eyes widened.

There, right in the goal’s center, stood a girl. Hair matted, locks of hair falling through her face in a way that made Amaya uncomfortable. The make up darkened under her face, giving her an appearance stranger than already was. Dress white but…stained at the waist.

Amaya jumped to her feet, yelling before she could stop herself.

“Cameron stop!”

His pace faltered at her sudden yell, giving an opportunity for other kid to snatch the ball.

“Hey!”

The other team easily scored a point, winning the match with cheers that didn’t reach Amaya’s ears. Breath shaky, she looked at the goal again.

Nothing. No girl. No trace that she was even there.

Cameron gave her an annoyed glance across the field.

“What’s your deal?”

Amaya couldn’t answer him, blinking at the spot where the little girl vanished. Cameron stormed off, muttering something under his breath. Amaya tore her gaze off the net, frantically packing her books.

The ground beneath the net seemed slightly more transparent.

Chapter Text

Darkness outside was strangely warm.

That’s the first thing I noticed when when we entered here.

No weird suffocating air. No sign of unnatural, distorted environment I am supposed to see.

The wind whisking my features was calm. Welcoming. Not ruff or nonexistent. My gaze swept across the streets were some people still strode, movement calm, smooth. Normal.

Harsh, jagged shadows inhabiting the walls provided me necessary cover from curious eyes as I watched. The people here were content. Too content. Smiles wide, eyes sparkling with something dangerously close to joy.

My jaw clenched.

Why? What made them act so carefree? Don't they realize nothing matters? That death always lingers, that's the only true escape from the nightmare we are living in?

It was foolish. Wishful thinking.

Laughter wrenched me away from those thoughts.

A tan skinned man walked near the spot where I stood. He chuckled at something the other woman next to him said, before they parted ways. Black hair reached his neck and he better adjusted his glasses as he peered closer in the dark.

Exactly where I was.

"Ahm I know somebody is there"

He spoke, tone cautious, yet slightly angry too. My body went still.

"Do you usually watch the people from the shadows like this?"

The man examined me from head to toe. His expression shifted from annoyed to uneasy once he finished.

One glance told me he was a teacher. He looked away abruptly.

I tilted my head.

"Are you afraid of me?"

There was no emotion when I spoke. I know for a fact, that he was. That was confirmed by denial that followed.

"N-No why should I?"

A hand, no, a tendril, caressed me as if nudging. Shadows came alive from the walls and their eyes stared so my skin prickled.

Shadow men.

It was clear what I needed to do.

The teacher was beneath me in seconds. Terrified eyes bore into mine. He squirmed trying to scream, but my knife pinned his throat. I could feel his body shaking.

"Please…I am sorry-

"If I made you mad…I am so sorry..

He pleaded, voice trembling.

I forced myself not to listen. It got easier each time. My hand tensed, preparing one quick gash across the neck which would silence him instantly.

Cold metal pressed harder against the teacher's skin and-

A sudden jab to my side made me drop the knife with a harsh clang, nearly missing the guy's face. My body barely skidded backwards.

The teacher made a run for it, but I focused on the horrified, panicked voice of my attacker.

"What are you doing?"

Looking down, I was met by a pair blue eyes which  blazed at me. The kid's costume glowed bright blue, obvious cat features marking it. His tail swished intensely, ears flat.

Darker shades pulsated across his body as he glared at me. I went to pick of the knife.

A fast shade of blue at the edge of my vision. I caught it just in time for my hand to react.

The child's body slammed into a container nearby, flesh thumping against metal.

Surprisingly, the boy found balance again, teeth gritting together as his enraged gaze fixed on me once again. He didn't look fearful. Angry. But not fearful.

Our eyes locked.

None of us moved.

The boy in front of me panted, stepping forward, his intense gaze not leaving me once. It didn't take me long to realize that my opponent wasn't human. At least not completely. The cat ears and the fluffed up tail clued me in further.

"You aren't fully human, are you?"

His frame shook.

"Why did you attack him? Why?"

The kid's hands turned into fists and the expression hardened, evading answering my question entirely.

"You almost…

Silence, like that word couldn't pass the lump in his throat.

The wind blew again, this time much harsher, colder. More like…our place. The cat kid took a step backward, eyes widened and body shivering.

Inspecting him further, I came to a conclusion his memories weren't worth taking…yet. He was still too young for those memories to be properly injected.

I turned and walked away, still feeling the shadow men hovering in the walls. Quiet static traveled through air, already affecting whatever dimension this is supposed to be. The red moon was glistened with pure red, yet, the city was darker. Only some parts were shaded in pale blue.

Now the shadows are telling me to go somewhere else.

Cat boy was too paralyzed to move. He stared at the bluish floor beneath his feet and only partially registered the man leaving.

Him leaving brought little relief.

It took all his might to move his body, heart thumping aggressively in his ears.

They were supposed to stop Night ninja. Not face…whatever that was. He barely leapt at the nearest rooftop when he heard a voice call to him.

"What's wrong kitty? You look like you saw a ghost"

He whipped around to face Night Ninja's mocking stare. The villain watched him from a tree branch a couple strides away, clearly oblivious to the horror that the hero witnessed.

Catboy lashed his tail once and ripped his gaze off Night Ninja's to the ground.

"Not in the mood"

The cat hero murmured.

After what he saw, Catboy didn't want anything more than to be at home, where its safe. And there are no people tryng to hurt other people. No sight of a knife against someone's throat. No freezing, rippling air. No attempts at killi-

"Hey! Earth to kitty!"

Catboy shook his head. To his shock, Night Ninja stood near him, waving a hand in front of his face.

The villian snorted in annoyance.

"Sheesh, you are no fun tonight"

The hero's reply was only a glare. One of Night Ninja's eyebrows raised at Catboy's sudden intensity. Confusion marked his face but he wasn't able to say anything as Catboy leaped off the house.

He landed without making a sound and ran. And the whole way, he felt something watching him.

Chapter Text

Connor stared at his barely eaten plate.

The food felt dry on his tongue and he knew each eaten crumb won't stay in his stomach for long.

He noticed Amaya's worried gaze watching him across the table. Other students around them have already eaten, preparing for the next class. Distant chatting only confirmed it.

"Connor you haven't eaten anything"

The boy didn't look at her.

"Is it that obvious?" he countered with a forced smile.

His attempt at humor didn't fool Amaya whose expression remained concerned. Greg sat next to them, his eyes focused on Connor's.

"Did you saw something?"

Connor evaded his look. How was he supposed to describe what he saw? Yes the city wasn't acting normal lately, but what he saw that night was…different. Cold.

Someone ready to hurt or worse.

Before he could even get a grasp on his words, the bell rang. It prompted the students to return to school. Maya and Greg packed their things with Connor following after them slowly. Way slower the usual.

His friends clearly noticed, slowing their pace so they were both at his side. Another wave of guilt hit Conner when he wasn't able to tell them. He will do that after class. They deserve too know.

As the students took their seats, another teacher strode into the room.

Mrs Taylor.

Her appearance wasn't the weird part. No. It was the expression on her face.

The color was drained out from Mrs Taylor's cheeks, expression a spasm. She didn't directly show her terror, but the pale look she shoot to the class, did.

"Your teacher didn't come today. He…had an accident."

Conner froze in his seat. Other classmates around him murmured, confusion and worry present in their voices. Connor's breath hitched and it took all his willpower to not just walk off and leave the class.

An image of the man, tall and imposing, movements stiff, as if he was a robot wearing human skin occurred to him again. Arms not properly connecting with his shoulders. The left arm looked dislocated when it held the knife as he pinned their teacher against rugged asphalt with a blade firmly placed against soft tissue of the younger man's neck.

If the teacher was to wounded to come to school today, that means the knife cut him. Connor couldn't stop no harm being done at all. But he did stop…

The brunette fought to control his breathing. Amaya's voice hardly reached him, and he raised his hand shakily. Others gazed at him but he didn't care. He just wanted to be out of this classroom now.

"I…I need to go."

Ms Taylor watched him, lips a thin line. She turned her head, eyes devoid of her usual enthusiasm and said quietly, barely above a whisper.

"Sure, Connor." she didn't ask him why. Didn't need too.

That's all she was able to say. Without daring to look in Greg's and Amaya's direction, the brunette left. Clanging off chairs against the floor made his skin prickle. Was he really that affected by this? The teacher was fine. Safe. Probably healing at home. Maybe sipping hot cocoa.

Connor shut the door on his way out.

Then why couldn't he stop shaking?

His walk transitioned into a scamp, rushing through the empty hallway. The sounds around him where muffled and only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Adjusting his backpack he picked up pace.

The tension ceased when he was finally outside. For just a few minutes, only sound disrupting the silence was panting. This is stupid. The teacher is safe at home.

Connor let himself lean against cool surface of the school building. He just…needed a minute. But just when his body steadily relaxed, a harsh feeling climbed up his chest.

A kid stood a couple leaps, close enough for Connor to recognize him.

The same boy from that night.

Except now, the blank stare he wore was even more prominent, brown eyes, or at least, a color that resembled brown, made contact with him. The blue cap and the mostly normal clothes made the appearance more bizarre.

Connor straightened instantly, his mind already reminding him of the kids doing that night. He took a step forward, preparing to fight off the kid if necessary. But just as he inched toward the boy, the former…backed off.

His expression resembled something Connor could only describe as fear. His own softened. Was the kid…scared of him?

When the other boy spoke the preceding words while his stare now bored into the hard ground, Connor felt tension leaving him.

"Are you going to hurt me?"

His voice was much higher than the pj expected, like someone trying to copy a cartoon character.

Connor shrugged, suddenly unsure.

"No If you won't hurt me"

Despite his gut telling him how strange this whole thing was, the kid seemed to relax at those words. Well…a little.

Next few moments were carried by silence.

"Why?"

The brunette looked at the kid in confusion.

"Why? Cause you are not doing anything bad?"

For now. He added silently to himself. This got stranger than he expected.

The boy blinked at him In a sluggish motion. Connor had to admit it felt way to unnatural for reasons he couldn't understand why.

His strange gaze inspected him again, but this time, he was grateful for the absence of hunger he saw from him previously. Now he looked…surprised. It made him wonder if this was even the same boy.

Connor couldn't say anything else as static began buzzing through the air. He noticed the former tensing, eyes widening at something behind him.

"I have to go."

in one heartbeat, he disappeared.

Connor shook his head, blinking rapidly at the boy's empty spot.

Oh he puffed out of existence again. Of course he did. The buzzing stopped too.

He whipped around to face the opposite direction where the kid once was. He didn't wanna think about who he was. Not now.

Yet, his gut told him he would figure out soon.

That evening, no villains were visible wrecking havoc. Catboy caught onto that quickly. Doesn't mean they won't eventually.

As the hero jumped from building to building however, it became clear the city was empty. and silent. So silent that it made his skin crawl.

Come on, focus. He was just paranoid. Nothing bad is happening right now. Catboy froze as he found the ground. His body went still, ears perking up.

Panting. Steady, guttural panting.

Catboy jerked so he was checking out every corner. He knew someone is watching him. The hero looked around again. Not a trace of anyone dangerous. Not a man, not a kid, no one. Breathing went one, gr-owlish, loud.

His ears flattened. Stop. He wanted it to stop.

Cat boy lowered close to the floor, tail curled. The sound grew into a laugh, which came from the city's walls. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.

"This one is perfect. This one…

His ears rose. Was the voice talking?

"Perfect for what?"

Catboy's mouth felt dry. That one was the kid's voice. The one with a hollow stare.

"You, you will see Tommy." The first voice answered, tone excited, like a child ready to open a birthday present. It made warmth leach from his body. The way he said that…He wanted to do something. Something wrong. He didn't sound like a kid or a villain they faced before.

Tommy. So that was his name. He strained to hear more, but the breathing ceased and everything was peaceful again, a mew of an alley cat an only sound.

Chapter Text

That haunting, rasping voice still rang in Catboy's ears even when he left. It didn't completely leave his mind once he was in the HQ either.

"I don't understand."

Said Owlette looking at the holographic picture displayed by their pj player.

"All the villains are absent tonight."

Gekko added behind her, staring at the empty places on the screen in same confusion.

Owlett's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I think I am seeing the pattern here."

Catboy couldn't stop his tail from twitching. The truth was, there was too much stuff going on lately.

And at this point, he was contemplating whenever they are having their eyes on the wrong villains.

"Guys I…

Owlette and Gekko turned to him, faces set in concern.

He tried his best to keep his voice steady as he answered.

"I think…think that villains are hiding from something."

There it is. He said it. He will stop pretending everything is fine.

His team exchanged looks, but he saw something flicker there. Panic. Did they see similar things?

Gekko fidgeted, fingers intertwined nervously.

"You mean…they are hiding from someone more dangerous?"

Owlette blinked and sharply looked away, her feathers ruffling. Her stunned expression told Catboy she saw it too.

He wanted to tell them about the danger, but he couldn't get the words out, as if telling them will somehow cause more harm.

"If that's true, if there is something bad happening that we can't understand…what are we going to do?"

It was Gekko who broke the overwhelming silence, glancing anxiously between them. Neither of them had an answer.

Some time passed till they finally left the HQ one by one. Eventually, only Catboy was left. He raised his arm, about to turn off the pj player. His ears flopped in exhaustion.

Quickly, the exhaustion vanished and he stood still as if carved in place. Because what he saw on the monitor in that moment forced warmth out of his body.

In the darkest part of the street, a figure lingered. Only source of light was a lone lamp which glinted off one side of the stitched -up face. The expression it held looked molded from nightmares-teeth clenched together in a way that made Catboy's stomach twist.

The figure's body? Nonexistent. It plunged into the black of the night.

It was stupid. Stupid how the boy could feel the figure's stare rake over his skin despite knowing it couldn't hurt him like this.

It can't, right?

His jaw tensed and he closed the player. There was no sleep for him tonight.

Gekko shuddered at the cold wind despite his suit. Was it always this cold? Owlette was right behind him, her face indicating she wasn't fully present.

"Hey, its gonna be okay." The lizard hero said, not believing his own words. He smiled anyway.

Owlette glanced at him, then looked at the moon. It was red every night from now on. For Gekko, every time the sun set and the night came, it seemed like it glowed brighter each time, casting that strange light over the city.

Owlette sighed.

"Good night Gekko."

Was all she could say in response, getting ready to leave.

"Will you be alright on your own?"

Gekko shifted his weight so he looked more confident than he actually was.

"Yes. Of course I will be okay!"

Owlette looked far from convinced, but she turned, not making a sound as she walked away.

"Alright."

Gekko sensed worry in her voice. Not that he blamed her. Still, he can take care of himself.

The pj mask didn't need to wait long for him to appear again.

That same masked boy which he met with two times and their meetings always ended anxiously, always carryng a warning.

And in this moment, it wasn't much different.

He perched himself between two walls, darkness covering him as usual. Gekko breathed out slowly, striding as calmly as he could, hoping the kid would ignore his presence.

The hero's hopes were proven wrong when the kid's voice came- hollow and uncertain.

"You care about them."

Gekko paused. He met the kid's piercing gaze- and instantly wished he hadn't, stumbling over his words.

"Well, of course I do! They-they are my friends"

Silence. So tense that Gekko hoped for the boy to speak again. When he didn't, he added quietly.

"They care about me too."

He couldn't see his whole face but Gekko was convinced the boy's eyes narrowed in rage.

"They pretend they care. It's all lies."

Gekko flinched at the harsh echo in his tone. It sounded wrong. Distorted. But beneath the anger, beneath the creepy exterior, there was…hurt in his voice. What happened to this kid?

"Not…not my friends."

He muttered, now facing the boy fully, knowing his words would likely fall on deaf ears.

"I am sorry if you were hurt. I really am. But not all people are like that."

Eyes which seconds ago flashed with anger, became emotionless. Gekko took steady breaths, waiting for the kid to respond.

He remained silent.

Gekko sighed.

"Good night."

He whispered, tail drooping slightly. Gekko didn't need to look back to know that the boy watched him go.

Chapter Text

One more night.

And one more time that he approaches me. The reason? I wasn't sure.

It's strange. Strange how we met. How he still tries to talk like he pities what I have become.

Doesn't he understand that it was pointless? The emptiness I feel couldn't be healed. The thing I became that day- what I chose to do- won't be forgiven.

I forgot who I use to be. I remember pieces of my life…

The painful parts.

Wincing at the memory, I let my head fall back against the wall of the street I sat in. Pure black hung over me, unreached by the light that the sun gifted this city.

It's always like this. Dark. Freezing cold. That hollow felling that never leaves. No matter how much it hurts.

No.

I wasn't capable of feeling hurt anymore.

Faraway chatter of people reached the place I resided in. Someone laughed. A child. And it sounded like mocking. Like the child's voice laughed at me. At my past. At my so-called life.

I plastered myself closer to the hard surface, letting the laughter ring in my ears, flood my brain. There was no point in trying to subdue it's noise.

The eternity seemed to pass before the sun at last finally faded and it was replaced by the red moon once again. Its hue blanketing this city in different colors.

It has been like that for days. And it will stay like that. Forever.

I try to go asleep with no avail. Hushed whispers keep me awake.Whispers that I still questioned if they were just In my head. Or something deeper.

A chill like a claw stabs into my back. I don't need to look to know that it was from him. I lift my head and there he is.

The dog. Labby.

Red eyes gleamed at me-sick pleasure so present it made me retreat further into the darkness. He was resting on his haunches, tongue lolling out of his unhinged jaw.

And his breathing was loud. Too loud.

The kind that nested itself in your skin and stayed.

Labby tilted his head, only slightly. He grinned.

"Having fun, Ralph?"

I didn't flinch and looked away instead. Whatever answer I gave him will just be twisted to fit his pleasure.

"Why are we here?"

I asked even If I knew exactly why. Labby's grin widened, seemingly overjoyed at the question.

"This world is sweet. So sweet." he took breaths between his sentences. "It's innocence is just what I am looking for. All you need to do is play your part"

His black frame sat still. So still. Labby's head swerved from side to side when speaking.

The only part of his body that moved.

Silence came next except for the hound's breathing. It cracked the sky like a whip. Or teeth through bone.

Until my voice came-quiet, void of emotion.

"What do I need to do?"

The dog's eyes flickered brightly, gaze sweeping over the street.

"Observe. Learn. I need to know more about them."

I didn't ask who. Something in me already knew who he meant.

Labby lingered in the same spot for few moments, then…disappeared. Loud silence vibrated through the pavement again and I hated that I wanted him to appear again.

With a tense jaw, I got up-too abruptly. A sharp jolt ran up my spine as if it were folding in on itself.

At least, that's how it felt.

I walked-or more like glided towards the empty road. The surface was clean, devoid of bumps and hard against my feet.

Real.

I hated it. If something was real, it was dangerous. A much more familiar, dreamy, suffocating neighborhood that they lived in was what I wanted right now. Where we lived.

But you don't. Not actually.

My pace faltered. One lonely car drove past me, its headlights catching the left side of the tattered mask I wore. Soon, the rumbling ceased, and there was silence again.

I locked that voice at the back of my mind, where thoughts like those belong. The voice broke through that fragile defense, and its words were cold. Mocking.

You hate. Hate your world. Hate the choices you made. And it’s all your fault. You don't deserve to exist.

Wariness grappled me, creating a clear opening for guilt, which I knew would feed the monster. The monster I thought I was free from.

It’s your fault.

I reached the rooftops with little effort. Something changed in my body. Something needed to change for me to pass through solid structure, to break reality in a way I didn't understand.

There was a minor surprise when my eyes caught three silhouettes leaping from buildings.

The three heroes.

Each of them in different costumes. Cat, lizard and an owl. We only ever saw them at nighttime, when the city was asleep. There is other kids like them who cause damage across Tarabiscoville- the name which we eventually learned belonged to this city.

As the trio made their way towards-supposedly-one of the others, my eyes locked onto one specifically.

Greg- Gekko- The child wearing the lizard costume.

Unconsciously, my brain wandered back to the times we met. Greg's hesitation, my cold demeanor, the way he carried himself so differently from anyone else I had ever known.

And now he ran shoulder to shoulder with the other two, possessing something else in his movements. Something more careful-even unsure.

I shook away that nagging curiosity and slipped into the the shadows.

I heard the scientist laughing manically on far end of the city. He was one of those kids they fought against.

Despite all of his attempts ending in failure he still returned every night. I didn't know why nor did I care.

Focus on the heroes.

The trio halted below his base and the scientist-Romeo- turned, smug smile on his lips.

He went on about he is going too beat them this team and how this was his greatest invention yet, earning an eye roll from the owl girl- Amaya.

A fight happened.

The scientist had a a dangerous machine on his side.It spluttered fire from its jagged mouth and it almost caught Connors-the one in the cat costume- tail.

"It has fire breath, plus its resistant to water. Pretty brilliant isn't it?"

He stated, still smirking.

The battle backfired on his end quickly. His machine froze, then slowly, almost curiously, looked at its creator.

Romeo frowned, thumping his foot angrily at the creations disobedience.

"What are you looking at? Get them! They are right there in front of you!"

It cocked its head then grumbled. No-snarled. Romeo took a step back, face lined in confusion.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, voice smaller than before.

"You listen to me!"

This time, he didn't sound as sure. The machine only shrieked in response, startling the masked trio of kids and sending Romeo staggering.

"N-No, wait…

The creature's hand was raised, an inch away from delivering a fatal blow to its own creator.

I was already preparing myself to see a red heap of flesh under the creatures outstretched arm, its own arm bloodied, before it roared and vanished somewhere else to cause destruction.

But that never happened.

Greg, who was the nearest of the three to the monster, moved.

He rammed its side, making it stumble away from Romeo who gaped, terrified, body shivering as if the air went colder around him.

In one blink, the other two distracted the raging machine. I payed little attention to them, gaze drawn to Greg helping his so- called adversary off the ground.

Romeo batted his hand once he was standing again, shot him a quick-perhaps a confused- glare, then sauntered back where he came from.

I didn't notice at first that my fists were clenching, or how endless confusion overwhelmed my thoughts.

Why? Why did he do that?

There was little chance of Romeo doing the same for him. Ever. The scientist probably wouldn't think twice before he stabbed him in the back-or any of them. So, was this another unexplainable action of his that made my chest tighten like something wrapped itself around my body and refused to let go?

As I stood there, contemplating Greg's decision in that moment, milky dawn appeared on the horizon and the sun was up again.

Chapter Text

Days after he heard breathing behind the walls, Connor couldn't sleep.

Someone may find that weird. After all, don't they already have a pretty poor sleep schedule with them fighting villains every night?

But this time, something felt different. It was draining.

The kind that made Connor pause, forget completely what he was about to do in that moment and just made him stare. Staring out of the window of his house, school, even during any fun event, he would just go stone as if he forgot how to move altogether.

Now he sat with Amaya and Greg on the bench, watching the street scattered with cars, mind absent from their talk.

"Romeo sure went far this time,"

Amaya said to Greg, face set in concern, who shrugged, although there was nothing dismissive about it.

"I am just glad that ended well. Right Connor?"

No answer came. The brunette's gaze stayed locked on the ground, eyes distant.

This one is perfect…this one…

Who is perfect? What was he talking about? Why did he…sound like that?

Horrible coldness gripped him despite the warm weather, and he grappled the sleeves of his own shirt, felling a shudder coming.

Perfect perfect perfect perfect perfect

He replayed the scene over and over in his head, trying to grasp some sense of what he heard, yet it's like everything became more muddled when he was close to rationalizing it.

Perfect for what?

He had heard the boy say. No, Tommy. The voice had mentioned a name.

You will see Tommy.

Connor's heart hammered in his chest. He tried to take a breath and nearly jumped out of his skin when Amaya touched his shoulder.

"Connor!"

He snapped his head, so that he was looking at her. Both her and Greg gave him worried glances.

"Are you all right?"

Connor shook his head and straightened his back so he looked as convincing as possible when he answered.

"Uh hu. Never better."

Amaya shot him a deadpan look.

"Right, and we didn't just almost lose twice to Romeo."

Connor shut his mouth and showed her a poor atempt at a smile.

He stiffened when he saw the look in her eyes.

" Listen, you don't need to hide anything from us because…

She breathed out, and Connor only now noticed how exhausted she looked. Her eyes lacked the usual confident spark in them. Skin was oddly pale, not much but enough to make him worry.

The brunette adjusted his weight on the bench to more a comfortable position.

"Amaya have you been sleeping lately?"

The girl didn't meet his eyes and Connor noticed her burying her hands in her lap.

"No Connor. Happy? Nights are weird. I can't sleep. Ever since Luna started acting like that. You even said something just feels off."

"Me too."

Greg quipped in where he sat at Amaya's side. He leaned on his hands, expression reserved.

"When I try to sleep at night, its weirdly cold, no matter how much blankets I have. I know it sounds silly, but its like something had sucked out all warmth from the room."

Connor didn't deny anything told to him, which alarmed the boy more. They were all wrestling with the same fear, he knew this. This unexplainable, irrational, hair-standing fear.

That was just some weird kid. Nothing to worry about. Especially for someone like me.

The man's hand gripping the knife, ready to cause an irreversible gash across teacher's neck, caused his breath to hitch.

Suddenly, too suddenly, Connor got up, earning him startled glances from Amaya and Greg.

"I need to do something real quick. Yea. See you both later."

Skin hotter than usual and heart refusing to ease its anxious thumping, Connor ran. He didn't look back, deciding (almost without his will) to head towards the school.

Where he met the boy, right nearby the building's entrance.

Tommy.

He reminded himself bitterly, and with a weird suffocating knot taking a rest in his stomach.

A name. A normal name.

Why does my chest feel heavy then?

Gritting his jaw together, Connor's mind flipped through the options.

So his plan apparently was engaging with Tommy on school ground, hoping foolishly he would still be there, waiting, hollow stare and everything and maybe manage to get some information out off him.

But that's stupid and you know it!

"Yes I know! I know that okay? I need answers!"

He shouted at nothing, spring air caressing tan skin an only response.

After eternity of running, Connor spotted bricked walls belonging to his school. He halted while almost tripping near the old block, looking frantically around the landscape.

Taking deep breaths, the brunette noted the space where Tommy approached him last week, close to school doors.

He mulled over it, then at last called.

"Tommy! Its me again. Remember? We met right here. Do you hear me?"

A bird clucked somewhere. A car tire screeched.

"My name is Connor. I just wanted to ask you something. Please, I really need help."

Oh, stupid, stupid, what was he doing? Seriously calling for someone who may be a ghost for all he knows, for a helping hand?

The school laid empty as he continued to try…whatever this was. Sun stopped beaming, with claws of night reaching over Tarabiscoville.

His jaw shut tight, Connor stooped wasting his voice to think.

I will come back tomorrow. He will be here by then, right?

Throat throbbing dully from yelling so much, the pj went his way, longing for home.

"Connor."

He jumped a little, surveying his surroundings till he found Tommy still behind one tree, white skin more apparent in upcoming light which the night would provide.

For a moment, Connor didn't know how should he handle this.

Answers involving the man or the panting voice would be useful, even knowing something about him other than his name could help.

But once he looked into the boy's eyes, only one question came clean.

"What is happening? Why is any of this happening?"

The words felt desperate on his tongue. Connor couldn't help it. Tommy's head cocked to the right-so slowly and robotically, people could mistake him for a mannequin.

"Oh, Connor. I can't say anything"

Did…did he sound sorry or Connor should had really considered sleeping better?

Not that I could if I wanted. Sleeping is hard recently for all of us.

"Why? I…you can't even answer one?"

Tommy stared. Glacier eyes bored into Connor's, and he felt angry at himself for looking away.

"We aren't allowed."

Was the boy's simple answer. Connor needed to control his voice from raising at this kid.

"Who is we? Tommy, please…

One of his arms twitched yet the movement held uncertainty. Nothing like the cold calculation he saw from that man when he yielded the knife.

Connor shook his head, surprised. Why was he comparing them?

It was the boy's turn to evade looking at the brunette, prompting to gaze at mowed grass.

"He told us we can't."

Connor's eyes widened, minor hope returned for one fleeting second. If he only discovered something helpful.

"Who? Who?"

Please, tell me…I don't know how else I can help…

Tommy turned to face him, quite reluctantly, and when he did, his dull eyes sparked marble.

"The one who controls us."

He said that quietly, the same way a child hides a lie.

Connor's mind was a relapse of thoughts.

Okay, some clues to what's going on. Finally.

However, no matter how hard he tried to believe that, it didn't feel right.

And for brief moments, he wondered if this kid knew his secret identity.

Grimacing, he buried the worry ebbing at his brain.

Nope, he has bigger things to focus on now.

" That voice, whoever it is, is he your leader?"

Tommy stayed under the treetops, frame so unmovable it made Connor feel like he was talking to an object. Or a body that shouldn't be alive but was.

Biting down his sudden nausea, the brunette's eyes looked at the other almost pleadingly.

"I…I need to know this. I need to know what I am up against. What my friends are up against."

Dreadful silence answered him. Tommy watched his hopeless state with blunt consideration.

Night fell slowly. The suffocating air went freezing, making a home in Connor's bones. Ground beneath his feet swayed in front of boy's eyes, leaving him staggering and already out of breath.

He won't get an answer. The thought made him want to scream. Tommy's form moved, enough for Connor to find the will to look up.

The child must have walked to him while he wasn't looking cause he bent close, then pulled away, heading towards those treetops again.

"Don't…don't listen to what he says."

He vanished with the same speed Connor would use as Catboy.

Chapter Text

The ongoing wind lashed against the HQ, colder and harsher than normal. The red moon still cast its unnatural hue on the city, almost cradling it.

The villains were nowhere to be seen. That was the first thing Connor-now Catboy- noticed, and he sighed in relief upon the realization.

There was nobody outside at this hour. His team was taking a break. The villains were doing the same.

For Connor, since he couldn't sleep anyway, he decided to take a stroll through the city.

And maybe, just maybe, find something that can help their situation. Maybe the owner of the voice, the guy who Tommy told him about, or anything.

Anything at all.

His muscles strained as he hopped onto another building and looked at the street beneath.

No cars. Silence ruled the place.

Peaceful. Yet, an unease settled in his stomach that he wasn't able to shake.

"Stop. Everything looks clear."

He whispered to himself more than to anyone else.

"You are Catboy! You are not scared of something stupid like…the dark! You fight when its dark constantly!"

He murmured more clearly this time, keeping his chin high.

But it did little to ease his thumping heart. The lamps from the street below covered the pavement in specks of yellow from where he watched.

The only source of light.

Catboy swallowed and turned, planning to leave, so he could finally let the unease rest.

"Help!"

His ears perked up. He dared to look for the source of the noise, scampering to the edge of the building. Right there, near the building's entrance, the hero saw someone wiggling in the dark, its features unrecognizable, yet as its screams grew into a shrill shriek of terror, he had no time to ponder on who it was.

He dove off the building, then jumped on all fours when he landed with a thump right near the source of the screams.

Catboy straightened and instantly froze at the sight in front of him, eyes widening.

It was a girl who screamed, echoing off the concrete walls, and making Catboy's body disobey him. He just stood stuck in place as if held by an invisible force.

The girl was on her back, long brown hair sprawled against the floor, the appalled expression marking her face at the figure holding her down.

It was him.

The man had his coat from the last time, spots present. Its color washed out, almost flooding the darkness around the area. Pale blue lower clothing stood out compared to the rest, and the focused, clenched angles of his face were the main reason for the undeniable fear that slammed into Catboy.

Then he watched those colorless, tattered with something ancient, eyes as the man's head angled in his direction.

Just like Tommy. He looked at me in the same way.

Catboy bristled at the thought before charging.

With barely noticeable strain, the man hauled himself off the girl, who scrambled to her feet, untangling her legs with wobbly effort.

Catboy stalled, not taking his eyes off her as she raced, distancing herself from the nightmare looming here.

He waited for the uneven breathing intertwined with hurried steps to cease. When it did, Catboy let his worry drift to the cursed figure standing stiffly in front of him.

"You know, this is the second one you have taken from me."

The man spoke, his head wobbling. The words weren't upset, more thoughtful, tasting their meaning carefully.

They did little to stop Catboy's next decision.

"Well, it will be your last too! Cause I am here to stop you! You…whoever you are!"

No reaction. The wind whisked upward, traveling over rooftops, entangling homes.

Silence stretched so far it almost hurt. In the meantime, Catboy attended his thoughts.

What am I gonna do if he attacks me? I really didn't think this through.

And any plan he could have come up with was immediately shut down with one look at such numb, inspecting eyes the man had. His arms laid lifelessly against his sides, frame hardly solidified even with Catboy this close.

The man stepped forward. Towards him.

Catboy reacted without his better judgment, rushing at the nightmarish figure.

Too quickly, the man's hand shot up at the hero's neck. Catboy's speed was incomparable.

His fingers clasped tightly, ripping the air out of Catboy. The man threw him on the ground and a startled choke left the hero's mouth.

Hand still squeezing Catboy's throat, the man raised the knife above the boy's head.

Wiggling out of his grip was no use. Catboy spluttered, helplessly trying to take breaths, ears flat against his head.

Stupid. He was so stupid for doing this. His mind raced, but no plan formed, only dread. A single glance at the knife sent a shiver down his spine.

The man wore his same dead expression , eyes traveling along the brunette's body.

Catboy shuddered, teeth clattering and he didn't know it was because of fear or the growing cold.

How is he supposed to get out of this?

The man's hand stirred, and Catboy's stomach dropped once the weapon's blade touched the fabric on his suit, where his chest was, not hurting, just there.

He was playing with him. That hopeless realization hit him suddenly, not giving him a moment to ponder. Yet, when looking at the expression, curiosity latched itself onto the man's eyes. Not sick. Not joyful curiosity.

Just fascination.

Pain radiated from where the man gripped him and he let out a choking sound of pain. If he concludes in using the knife...

His fur began ruffling at the blade's keen edge running downwards, from his chest to stomach, sending another wave of fear through Catboy.

“What are you?”

A question, spoken in that same delayed manner, as if his words moved faster than his lips.

Catboy noted the hold on his throat lightening, like it encouraged him to answer.

“Nothing you will understand.” he managed, teeth clenching.

A soft rumble escaped from the hero's chest. He stilted in confusion, not moving for one fleeting moment.

Where did that come from?

His confused state materialized into shock as the soft rumbling preceded, vibrating all over his skin. Light, comforting.

His eyes widened. He knew what that was.

“You are purring.” The sentence was stated by the man as a fact, nothing more, nothing less. Catboy bit his lip. No signs of stopping from ongoing purrs that warmed his body.

Why? Why was he purring now? He hates this!

But the purrs helped, if only a little. The tense muscles relaxed and he laid now still as a doll in the hands of the men.

But the man leaned in, making his purr hitch, then got up.

He was free! He was…free.

Catboy jumped to his feet, tail twitching. The purrs died in his throat.

The man stepped back, giving the boy distance. Dead eyes briefly went, only briefly, wide when he gave his final words of the night.

“I guess I need to find out.”

The man twisted to the opposite direction of where Catboy was, then turned to nothing, disappearing into the shadows.

Relief washed over him.

He was gone! He was okay! He…

The hero's legs buckled. His hand reached for the nearest wall to prevent him from falling. He drew in precious gasps of air. His throat hurt…it hurt.

Catboy lowered his head, letting his eyes close for a moment.

It's fine…I am safe now…

He leaned against the exterior and stayed there as the night bled into dawn.

Chapter Text

The clustered atmosphere at the school the next day, had Connor nervous. Hot sunlight beat on the school pavement, and the air was thriving with signs of spring. Chirping of birds brimmed through the warm air, uplifting, as it should be.

Kids outside did their usual activities on the school playground, yells of joy coming from the ones using the slide. Or the rushing excitement from the students playing tag. Loud chatter emanated from around the school’s tree; a specific group gathered there. The boy with curly brown hair-Cameron-stood in the middle of the group comprising two boys and one girl. He laughed at something said by the girl, inaudible to Connor, who stood far off, exactly near the school doors.

He had his head bowed as low as possible, not looking at anyone but the ground.

The hollow marks left by the man’s fingers burned. Even still, with every swallow, it hurt. A pair of knives in his throat.

He managed another painful swallow and then turned in the direction opposite the joyful laughter.

“Connor?”

Amaya’s voice called behind him. The brunette paused, his mind reeling.

She couldn’t see him like this! His scars…she couldn’t see them. His breathing grew noticeably ragged, feeling exposed. Too exposed. As if something had removed his shirt and left him vulnerable to the harsh cold.

But Amaya’s calls drifted to him again. This time more frustrated, laced with added desperation.

“Connor, talk to me! I don’t know what’s going on, but you are ignoring both me and Greg. Isn’t this the time when we should be together the most? As a team?”

He flinched at the tone of her voice, yet refused to face her. No words formed to be able to say he doesn’t have the strength for that. Not now. Not ever.

Not when they were going through something. Not when something wrong was lurking in their city.

Don’t listen to what he says.

Connor’s eyes pressed shut.

Oh, Tommy, who are you talking about?

Guilt hovered in his chest as he heard Amaya approach, and he almost had an urge to turn, but stilted at the last moment.

“What are you hiding? Why won’t you look at me?”

Connor’s body moved forward, away from her. From his friend.

Fresh pain stung his neck, and he swallowed a lump in his throat to answer.

“I… want to be alone for some time.”

The words came out jagged, unpleasant. Like someone else spoke them entirely. His heart dropped at the sight of Amaya’s stunned expression when he tilted his head to look at her. Pain flashed in her eyes for one passing second, then Amaya’s face hardened into something bitter. Doubtful.

Regret churned in his stomach.

“Amaya-

“Fine! If you want it to be that way.”

Amaya stated locking eyes with him, her own narrowed in anger through the glasses, yet clear hurt lay there. Connor felt an ache in his chest, and he wasn’t given a chance to utter an apology. The girl turned to the playground, not sparing him a glance, and stormed off.

Connor inched a step, as if he was gonna follow her, then stooped, bowing his head.

I am sorry. I don’t know how to explain what is happening to me.

His jaw wobbled, but he moved further into the shadow given by the rooftop. A creeping realization that the action reminded him of Tommy hit him like a splash of water and he sank further into the shade.

No, Connor doesn’t want to think about the boy right now, he doesn’t want to see his hollow look, the cold stillness. The creepy dread surrounding him. The…nervousness he had when he met him here. Nor the lack of empathy when he kicked a body into endless dark, behavior which was absent from the boy now.

Connor bit his lip as hard as he could. Stop. Thinking. About. Him.

Cameron shouted something excitedly at his classmate. Another child cried as she was tripped by someone else, alarming their teacher to the location.

The laughter rang. And for the first time, it unnerved him.

Amaya’s head swarmed with the earlier event as she crossed the noisy street. The local chatter between the passing couple reached her, and she barely evaded crashing into them, taking a clumsy step to the side. Clumsiness, which was so unlike her. A food stand was a square away.

She hardly recognized the tang of delicious food drifting from it, only sauntering past.

What was Connor’s problem? He wasn’t the only one here experiencing weird things! Their problems would grow worse if they kept themselves isolated. Especially when everything feeling more strange. More absent.

Like the world they lived in seemed wrong.

Amaya wanted to protest those kinds of thoughts, point out a flaw in the nonsense, but her logic, like it hardly applied anymore. That frustrated her.

The grip on the straps of her schoolbag tightened.

And scared her.

Really scared.

Amaya quietly continued onward, listening to the local movement carefully now, with a small breeze accompanying her. It clawed at the girl’s skin.

Actually clawed. As a threatened animal would. A low hiss was produced, and her legs felt heavier.

Body weirdly tighter. Her own cage.

An invisible hand touched her back.

She twisted her whole body around, heart thundering with irrational fear. Or it would have been irrational, If the pj hadn’t come eye to eye with her again.

The girl with the pale features, the colors of her dress muddled, created the impression of a haunted painting. Same faded makeup streaming downwards, darkening the girl’s expression. She was standing next to the streetlamp, gaze flicking to the earth instead of to Amaya.

Whatever fear Amaya had, got drowned out by anger.

“Listen, if you think I will just let you follow me around like some creep, then you are wrong!”

She yelled, cutting through the static that killed the other sounds around them.

The girl’s head didn’t move, only eyes, which rolled to the back of her skull to stare into Amaya. That quick flash of anger dispersed instantly, replaced by narrowing dread.

Her legs trembled under unknown weight, the static deafening, climbing into something akin to a scream, cracking the surrounding atmosphere.

Amaya backed off, distancing herself from the noise, the fear which twisted in her chest now unbearable.

The girl stared at her, expression glimmering with something she couldn’t quite place. Rage? Sorrow? Pity?

Cold crept into Amaya’s skin, and she didn’t have time to register anything.

She turned and sprinted away without looking back.

Chapter Text

Thick darkness still coiled around the city once Gekko finished his patrol.

He wasn't really surprised once he saw the moon, crimson still spraying its form. His heart rate picked up anyways as if seeing it for the first time.

Fine. Doesn't matter now, I am almost home.

The lizard hero went along the side of the road, always close enough to the light provided by those street lamps.

He hated the dark recently. Okay, the dark in general wasn't really pleasant to anyone actually but…when considering the last few nights…

Gekko nearly jumped out of his suit when a hum traveled through the air. A rhythmic hum. A song.

And the voice…wait, he knew that voice.

It came close to the city's lake and the hero followed, passing by the shadows illuminated against the building's. He was convinced they were matching his pace as if they were actual people he would see normally on the streets. They warped, blending into another, making the hero question what he was even seeing.

His suit suddenly felt tight.

He averted his gaze off the walls.

You are following the voice. Remember?

Gekko circled the area, heart still racing.

The hero peeked behind a bench, and he recoiled once seeing who it was.

Octobella was perched near the lake, still singing that song. her tentacles dangled by her side and she didn't seem to be bothered by the red moon or the thicker darkness at all.

Gekko retrieved his head, stifling a groan. No! Octobella couldn't notice him. And he definitely had better things on his mind currently.

Why Octobella out of everyone why?

Every other villain were not seen at all the last few days yet she was here? Really?

He looked over and Octobella was still there. Her singing stopped.

The villain's head whipped in his direction and he felt his stomach drop at the smile that crossed her face. She saw him.

"Ahhh,did the little lizard come alone?"

Anxiety lingered under his suit. Octobella wasn't supposed to notice him!

He left the safety of the bench and showed himself in full.

"What are you planning?" Gekko asked immediately, cautious of her next move.

Octobella rolled her eyes in dismission but that sickeningly sweet smile remained.

"What? Your friends decided you were not worth helping?"

She stated in fake pity. Gekko stared at the tentacle girl, exhaustion flickering in his eyes as he muttered.

"Did you come here just to bully me again?"

He wished he listened to Amaya and Connor and stayed home.

Her expression shifted into something more sinister, some weird curiosity accompany it.

"You know…you didn't need to save him."

Gekko blinked, his mind already knowing who she meant.

"You mean Romeo?"

Octobella waved at him dismissively.

"Oh, you don't need to say it. I know. That's why you are so fun to play with!"

The last sentence was uttered in excited demeanor, earning an sigh from Gekko. A sigh which was way to shaky to be seen as annoyance. He doesn't want to deal with this. And he wasn't just thinking about Octobella.

"Don't you see what's happening?" he said, pointing his hand at the moon, as red as ever, its previous white color gone.

"Isn't any of it worrying just a little?"

The lizard hero hoped for some understanding to pass through Octobella's stare, only to see a bored look instead.

"No."

The tone was too casual. And Octobella's features matched it perfectly. Gekko felt colder by the second. Why couldn't she understand?

She inspected her hand.

"I am not surprised that you are scared. You are the weak one. One who would save a…villain."

The words fell like a rock In Gekko's stomach, affecting him more than he wanted. She was just trying to upset him, that's all. No reason for him to feel helpless like this.They had bigger things to worry about then this...

Yet, Octobella preceded, tone more mocking with each word, hidden with a layer of odd sweetness.

"You would probably save me to? That's so adorable…

Her hands clasped together, her smile unwavering as if she was actually complementing him… until…

"So…weak."

An object ripped through the cool air and cracked against the side of Octobella's head. Gekko's breath caught in his throat, his legs taking an instinctive step back. The girl dropped from her rock, clutching the injured spot.

Fear rippled through him as blood flew through Octobella's fingers, enough to make him suppress a gag.

Eyes peeled wide, the girl frantically looked for the person who threw the rock, yet she seemed unfocused, distant. Terrified.

She stumbled, not moving an arm from the bloodied gash. All her composure torn away in a blink. Octobella exhaled a heavy, ragged breath, then clumsily turned, submerging herself in the water. No cruel remarks thrown at Gekko for the end.

Heart thumping, Gekko's gaze traveled to the thing thrown at Octobella. A rock.

A familiar felling cascaded his spine.

He jerked around.

The mask. Those eyes. His blackened clothes.

The masked boy was really the one who stood lifeless at the bank, eyes unreadable. He…threw the rock?

His pulse leapt when the kid's eyes locked with his, that same fear spiraling him.

He really was there…then wasn't anymore.

Gekko was alone again. But it didn't feel like that.

Empty corners provided great protection from the outside world. I held onto the thought as I let myself slump in the forsaken alleyway, breathing unusually hard.

That thrown rock was necessary. Those being's words were wrong. I couldn't explain how. It just stirred something in me, something painful.

So… weak.

She deserved to bleed.

I sat down, hugging my knees tightly to my chest. My head throbbed with things I wished I could forget. Things that scrambled my brain and preserved those awful memories. In a strange way, the girl’s words were directed at me.

The last sentence was.

A sudden hive of voices prowled the mind, loud and only for my ears to hear. The hive of their voices disoriented me, making the surroundings feel dimmer. Their tones, nails against old wood, made anyone’s skin crawl and mine.

I am used to this. I should be used to them…

I hid my face by burying it in my arms, even if the mask covered most of its flaws. The voices grew louder until even the engine of cars got muffled. Sharp pain stang my chest. And the heartbeat quickened, as if wanting to leave the prison that was my body. The pain spread across my lungs and climbed my shoulder.

My breath came in short, uneven gasps, unable to suck air into my lungs.

Why couldn’t I breathe properly?

The squeezing sensation in my chest got worse, the world going blurry around me.

This… I don’t want to feel this…

I threw my head against the wall, the pain nothing compared to the one lodged between my ribs.

Make it stop…

“Hey.”

My body tensed at the voice. It reverted back to pain when I looked at the person standing a stride away. Green scales caught my vision, but it’s the awkward stance that gave the person out.

“Huh, it’s me again.”

Greg scratched the back of his head, gaze dropping to the ground. I barely attained the action. It was hard to breathe. Hard to focus…

Greg averted his attention to me, his eyes wide once he noticed my condition.

He advanced, one reluctant step at a time, as if he were approaching a wounded animal.

I wanted to bolt. To scramble out of his sight and rot in the dark like I am supposed to. But I couldn’t. Numbness in my legs made it impossible.

The hero crouched after some time before sitting down, and back touching the same wall. He stayed.

“I get it…sometimes it gets too much.”

A shuttering breath escaped me, eyes pressing shut. Breathe in. Breathe out.

My eyes opened for a heartbeat to confirm Greg was still there. He stared at the ground, expression aligned with...concern.

He was still here.

Breathe in. Breath out.

My eyes closed shut again, my body letting out another shaky exhale.

At last, my breathing evens out together with the pounding heart.

The feeling I had was familiar. Yet, now it ended sooner.

With my chest not hurting anymore, and strength returning to my legs, i glanced at Greg, who hadn’t moved from his spot.

The dreading silence between us vibrated like static, which poisoned the air.

“Well, I hope you are feeling better.”

He said after some time, getting up in a careful, unsure manner. I followed his movement as he made his way towards the open streets.

He stooped just as he was almost out, turning his head to look at me, face set in unspoken realization.

“I will…see you around.”

He walked, no hurry visible this time, the green of his suit slowly vanishing.

Chapter Text

The park felt distant.

Very distant. The laughter, the chatter, the tweeting of birds even.

Connor’s head buzzed with an emptiness he couldn’t quite place. Almost like static. Right now, on a relatively sunny day, sitting by the sidelines while other kids played.

How did it come to this?

How…

His head lowered towards the hard earth, blinking back sleep. Connor hadn’t slept lately in…uh..how long? He wasn’t really great at counting.

The sun touched his face. It was supposed to be warm, but…well, it was, yet something seemed slightly bitter about the sun’s light. Like when a cat scratches you, not because it wants to defend itself but because…it just wanted to for no reason.

He drooped against a tree, its bark devoid of both warmth and cold.

His face scrunched, then fell.

He found it hard to care. Connor wanted it only to end.

A trembling sigh escaped his lips, and he lifted his arm to trace the scars on his neck. They were visible enough in the daylight to the point he needed to shrink his neck as much as possible so nobody would be able to see it.

Not his friends, or villains (were they still villains?), not anyone. It’s better than admitting what he saw.

He sank to the ground, under the tree’s shade, not paying any mind to the park’s cheerfulness anymore.

Exhaustion weight heavy in his limbs, with the shapes of the kids heavily blurry in a way that they looked like shadows.

…Shadows?

Connor’s eyes cracked open, his body protesting as he forced himself up. He scanned the area. Normal stuff. Kids playing in the sandpit, others chatting cheerfully somewhere farther, cars thumping by-

His breath cut off, and he drew back, his spine hitting the bark.

Tommy stood very close, a cat leaped away, that avian blue cap not even reflecting the sunlight. Nor the rest of his body, for that matter.

Connor mimicked the boy, being still.

“You, what do you want now?”

The brunette asked in a begrudging tone, though another part of him didn’t mean to sound that hostile. Tommy blinked at him. In a gradual manner that Connor would never get used to.

“What’s wrong with your neck?”

Connor’s heart plummeted. His hand shook, taking all his might not to hide the obvious.

“I… don’t know what you are talking about?”

His muscles locked, ready to sprint away from the ghost kid that had been haunting him for so long. The kid’s hand moved-ignoring his answer entirely and aiming at Connor’s neck.

“Let me see.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed to slits. In one flashing moment, he was held against the ground again, thrashing helplessly, the suffocating pain present. The feel of the hand wrapped around his throat, firm and unrelenting. All of it happened with one swift move of an arm.

He leaped away from the touch, breath short as if he was reliving the moment again. Sweat built on his neck and the boy’s chest heaved as the memory slowly subsided, but still lingered. Was still fresh under his skin. He shuddered, his breath doing the same and he looked Tommy in in the eyes despite of himself.

There were hard to read as always but something…shifted. The edges of his mouth fell and he lowered his gaze to the ground. He wasn’t hurt by his reaction, right? Connor didn’t get the impression they were tolerable to each other, let alone friends.

And now, his mind screamed at him to run.

And he obeyed it.

The day after, the three friends sat together in the HQ in the numbing silence. So numbing, that they all almost wished for just something to break the silence. Any of them would work too.

it got to the point where they were sure a crack sounded through the air. A old VSH tape finally breaking and yielding to age.

Amaya was the one who couldn’t stand it any longer. The brunette suddenly stood up, turning to Greg and Connor with a angered expression.

“Okay, both of you are hiding something.”

Two boys practically frosted on the spot.

“You Connor definitely.”

“What?”

Now he was on his feet too, voice dripped in shock at such a exclaim.

Amaya crossed her arms, not retrieving her statement.

“Well let’s see, you are sleep deprived, anxious, quiet and look haunted.”

Connor stammered.

“I-I you are sleep deprived too!”

She evaded his gaze, for one cold second, then narrowed her eyes at him. She tilted her head. Wait, oh no-

“What’s that on your neck?”

His hand flew defensively over the finger marks left by the man, eyes wide. “This? Uh oh- I fell.”

Amaya’s eyebrow raised and even Greg looked at him in confusion.

“You got finger prints from falling?”

Connor’s mouth slacked open, but nothing came out. Amaya’s face flushed, betrayal lacing her tone.

“Why are you lying to us?”

“I am not lying!”

There was hopelessness in his voice which he failed to hide. No, No, No- No one was supposed to know this! They would be safer if they just listened to him.

“No, listen I-

“Say it now.”

Greg groaned from the corner.

“Guys!”

They tear their gazes off each other and look at Greg.

“We are all tired. But this won’t fix anything!”

Amaya and Connor still refuse to share a look, gaze fixed to the ground of the HQ. Amaya’s voice cuts through the silence, firm and with no room for argument.

“And what about you Greg?”

Now it was the youngest pj’s turn to look uncomfortable. Connor also seemed drawn to the question, turning his attention towards Greg.

Oh no.

“Me? I wasn’t…

He had no or excuses for his strange behavior.

The two watched him, expressions confined in doubt and concern. Greg’s eyes darted between them. Then something let out a sigh. A need to get this off his chest. To get that boy out of his head.

Maybe it was the right thing to do.

Greg evaded eye contact as the two still expectantly looked at him. Amaya’s gaze was more tense while Connor’s hollowed into something unreadable. One part of him here but the other floated somewhere distant.

Letting out a preparing sigh, Greg spoke.

“I met someone.”

The two stiffened. Connor completely snapped back into focus, whichever daze he was in, now gone.

Amaya raised an eyebrow.

“And who did you met?”

Greg’s heart twisted, but it was to late to retrieve his words. They were out. And he had no idea how to explain this.

“I-I don’t know…

Connor’s face hardened. Whatever calm the brunette had for the last few minutes was clobbered and shifted into uncharacteristic seriousness.

Greg’s heart pounded in his chest.

The blonde opened his mouth to speak, but Connor advanced to him, steps slow and controlled. Maybe way to controlled.

He stopped right when he was in front of Greg, eyes focused on his.

“Did someone hurt you?”

That question caught the younger boy by surprise. Connor still kept his gaze, and Greg was sure that if he was Catboy right now, his tail would be lashing and ears pinned down.

“No! No…

He forced out. Nothing in Connor’s posture relaxed. Eyes were now cracked wide open, breathing heavy. Greg glanced at his hands and noticed the clenched fists, a tremble in his arms not hard to miss.

Greg’s breath was stuck in his throat. He wasn’t..scared of his best friend was he?

Amaya shuffled in the corner, discomfort taking a form on face. She approached, although not as close.

“You can tell if someone did hurt you anytime you know?”

“I am not hurt! I am just weirded out by all of this as much as you guys are, I promise!”

He raised his hands in defense, silently praying they would believe him.

Connor clenched and unclenched his fist, seemingly trying to calm down.

“Who did you meet?”

He repeated and this time, he sounded much more like old Connor again. Greg sighed in relief.

“He doesn’t seem dangerous, but not good either…

In a snap, Connor’s mood shifted into worry, eyes narrowing.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Amaya said the words quietly, voice wavering from alarm.

Connor stopped looking at his friend and was just drawn to the floor of the HQ.

He didn’t like that answer at all.

Chapter Text

I stumbled through the pitch black. Blood coated my shirt from the recently killed victim.

I couldn't remember who. My mind was too dizzy from the recent memory trip to remember the clear features.

Only in that one moment, he screamed, and other than that, there was just silence.

The memories I plunged into left me confusingly empty. Unfulfilled.

I wasn't expecting the pleasure to wear off that soon.

The stupid moon possessed a coat of red. The city was, however, dark. Besides the street lamps, which remain dimly lit.

My steps vanished. Silence. Very…unnatural silence. It made my skin itch and let me think about what I had done.

No…it forced me.

Gosh, I needed pain. Something distracting. And if those can't be memories…

My gaze traveled to my hands. They were calloused, rough. Whole body was. It reeked of death and attracted blood.

Only my hands had are maneuvering my knife together with the syringe and for times like this.

I grasped the weapon, pulling it out of my coat, and then gently pressed it to my wrist.

With eyes pointed at the exposed flesh, I pondered for a second, then pulled.

A quiet hiss escaped my lips as an extended cut formed on my hand, a new life form taking place.

Blood welled up, dripping down my hand in rhythmic plops. It was warm and calming.

Even a pleasure. It's my best source of comfort other than the memory extraction. I rolled my head back and sighed.

The sensation of the warm liquid made me forget.

Moving on, I produced a similar cut on the other hand. This one was harsher. Blood tainted the floor beneath me, a bright color in the closing dark.

One more cut, then another, till my hands were streaked with straight, thin traces, which were cuts, coating my skin with red.

A shudder runs up my body, and the wounds burn as if fire courses through my veins, and yet, my mind feels more at peace.

It will hurt again. It always does.

But I would surely cherish every sting of pain. Every drop of blood a sin that was squeezed from the tainted flesh.

The knife in my hand was now stained with the crimson juice, a reminder of the damage I had caused to myself.

I may have preceded unfortunately; the little ritual was interrupted.

"You-

The user's voice cut off.

My head tilted over my shoulder, and Catboy's frame greeted my eyes. The hero's tail twitched so much his body trembled, color drained from his face.

I showed myself fully to him, except for the hands.

His jaw clattered, and he was shaking. A fragile twig in the storm.

Silence ruled. No word of how he was going to stop me.

"You were too late this time."

I stated through the quiet of the night.

"I already claimed one of them."

Catboy's shocked gaze dipped to the blossoming stain on the pavement.

I barely acknowledged it.

Does he know it's my blood? Does it matter? He hates me. Fears me. For a good cause.

I do what I need to.

His fists retracted as if actual cat claws and his jaw was tight. The tightness held something back. An scream. It's a scream often.

Or a attack.

The third option wasn't considered on my part cause the hero rapidly whipped his back towards me then escaped with impressive speed.

I sigh, tilting my head back.

Oddly, I guess was expecting him to stay and try to fight me.

Was I disappointed? No.

Deep inside I knew, the cat hero would return.

Connor’s body walked to the next route. His mind screamed, absent of the sound of the outside world.

The man’s wrists were bleeding.

Not just a drop either; it covered his hands like a decoration.

A gag threatened to escape him.

He stopped walking. He was now standing near the toy shop, the toys inside grinning at him. There were stuffed bears, porcelain dolls, their fake eyeballs staring through the glass right into Connor.

The brunette’s breathing grew rapid. Panicked. Chest twisting by an unseen hand pressing against his lungs. All the muscles in his body locked up, and he needed to exhale.

What is wrong with you? They are just stupid toys.

The doll’s stare raked all over him. Harsh, unrelenting, judging.

I am sorry!

He punished himself internally. It felt like his heart wanted to disappear together with his body.

I can’t tell them! I can’t worry them like that! I- I-it’s my fault.

An ache struck his chest again. The man’s slit hands greeted his brain with another pang of regret.

Why? Why was he…

The sentence was unable to take form. A black hole of questions he doesn’t know the answer to grated at his brain.

Red liquid stained the street texture, flowing through gray stone. And it belonged to the man.

His knees buckled.

What did he do? What did his team do to deserve this?

A surge of pain cracked his head. He wanted support. Any kind. A rock. A wall.

Anything to keep his body from collapsing.

His body lurched, and he dropped to his knees.

Connor’s body shook with rattling breaths and contained sobs. Arms weakly slumped over his thighs, shaking with something suppressed.

The floor beneath pressed into his skin, and he knew the bruises would hurt afterwards, but he couldn’t care less. He might even scrape the wounds deeper just to…just to stop thinking!

Air crackled.

He tensed up, spirals temporarily forgotten. Was that…

Connor couldn’t bother looking up, head bowed towards the pavement.

The space circling him shifted with one quiet step which he knew who it belonged to.

Tommy stood there, fronting Connor’s trembling form, his body calm, or so it looked like to the brunette.

Connor’s teeth gritted, no words passing through the lump in his throat.

Only another shiver cascaded down his back. Tommy’s gaze stayed fixed on the boy who knelt on the street floor. Not trying to stand up. Not trying to speak.

Eyes refusing to meet Tommy’s.

An unseen force whistled through the atmosphere containing them, almost imitating a breath of something that should be buried like a secret.

It failed to alarm Conner. His body refused to budge.

And the only witness to this was that same ghost boy with a blue hat, boring into him, whether he liked it or not.

Tommy observed the crumpled hero for a moment, a statue more than a boy. Too unnatural to be considered human. And still not leaving?

Frustration beat his exhaustion and Connor was about to maybe shout at him to leave, to stop enjoying his suffering. The words were at the tip of his tongue, a restraint which he should have said the moment Tommy first appeared. They were ready to leave his mouth, to ease this nightmare, to somehow lessen this feeling which hurt. Those three words.

Leave me alone.

His jaw twitched and-

Tommy knelt beside him. Connor froze up, jaw clenching, words evaporating just when they were about to be said.

The boy’s pale arm reached, but not towards Connor. Instead, an object dangled from his grasp, human shaped and soft.

He laid the the gift gently next to Connor. The boy glanced at it, expression tense, yet now small confusion was present there.

The object was a doll. Full of that white stuffing, and some still spilled out of the toy’s arm and waist. Connor was quite surprised when he noticed the doll looked good, other than the few slip ups. It had branded hair, and was mostly unclear on which gender it’s supposed to represent.

He opened his mouth, a question forming but he failed to get the words out.

He stared at the doll as if it was somehow a biggest mystery he saw the past couple of days. And maybe it was.

Tommy’s gaze dropped, still, very still. That wasn’t unusual from him but this stillness expected something. Was waiting.

Connor finally found the words, switching his attention to Tommy.

“Why give me this?”

The boy’s left eye turned in his direction, before lifting his head to meet Connor’s expression and pure confusion which it held.

“It…reminded me of you.”

His heart clenched at that. Weirdly enough, It wasn’t dread this time.

He scanned the doll for a second time and no words were left for him to answer that.

The time passed strangely. Tommy was looking at him for long, he knew that. Though, every other action was a blur after he left, leaving the brunette alone.

He caressed the toy’s torn arm. He doesn’t remember being ever this gentle with a toy before.

It was a while, but he found the strength to get up again, doll gripped in his hand. He dusted himself off and looked down the road.

Wind whisked his skin, and this time, it wasn’t as cold.

Chapter Text

Amaya indignantly tapped her pencil against her chin, staring blankly at the math task in front of her.

Her head, usually quick to find the solution to these kinds of problems, was buzzing with silence. Not scary, its biggest flaw was that it was simply…annoying.

After who knows how long hours of gaping at the page, she shut the book and set it down on the edge of her desk.

That’s it. She was going outside. Preferably to do something that doesn’t have any connection to the nightmare from last night.

What had gotten into even Connor? It was like for a few beating moments; it was like he was stripped and replaced by someone fake. And…hurt. Ruff.

Worry consumed her.

She sat contemplating the thought of visiting him. Just to check if he was alright.

Amaya got up and strolled to the blue door.

The pj registered the walk and the opening of doors slowly. The action was a blur, but soon she was outside.

It was barely day; the hues of the sunset remained on the concrete and caught the city’s edges, making them stand out.

Three girls talked as they walked side by side, faces beaming with joy. They passed by the two houses settled closely to one another. And pressed in the middle was the girl.

Amaya’s heart climbed up her throat at the sight of her, and her legs were chained by fear on the spot. The logical part of her brain shouted at her to escape back to her house. To forget about Connor and just run.

Subconsciously, she knew it was too late.

Unknowingly, like a force tugging her onward, Amaya looked at the girl carefully.

Identical pale features crossed the girl, though, Amaya focused more on who she was looking at.

Those three girls were in their own world, chuckling at whatever the other said. The creepy girl grimaced as if it somehow hurt her, but she hadn’t looked in Amaya’s direction, which brought some relief.

Yet. She hadn’t noticed me yet.

Amaya hated to admit that the girl’s previously underwhelmed expression confused her. She stared after the girls until they rounded the corner, the look on her face difficult to read.

The best word for it was…upset.

A pang of guilt hit her, strong and sudden.

And that wasn’t…right? You don’t need to be a genius to put two and two together and tie the girl to the weird events plaguing their home. Even someone like Night Ninja would have figured that out.

Her hand twisted firmly into her shirt.

The brunette’s gaze set on the creepy girl, her dress owning the brown spots plastered near the girl’s waist.

Why, there, Amaya doesn’t know or really want to obtain that knowledge.

The girl chewed her lip, thinking.

I will be seen anyway. Might as well do this.

One cautious step forward…

The girl’s head whipped to her, her chin drooping in her neck as the movement happened.The hair on Amaya’s neck rose, taking effort to keep her voice from shaking as she addressed the girl.

“Hi, I noticed you just standing here. I am just passing through and if you are not busy or if your friends aren’t here yet, you can…join me. If you want to of course.”

She needed to force the last words while smiling. Hopefully, it wasn’t noticeable.

“My name is Amaya by the way.”

She concluded that if the girl had weird ghost powers, she probably knew her name already so no difference in telling it anyway.

The girl stilted. The lack of action told Amaya she was thinking over the offer. She was guessing.

What was more important, the girl hadn’t answered the question at all. Instead, her eyes were razing Amaya’s appearance, head twitching at random times.

This wasn’t going anywhere.

Amaya bit back a sigh and sauntered.

“Well, if you change your mind…

She mumbled, continuing on her way. Her back burned under the girl’s gaze as she walked further, having to remind herself to not look back.

The coldness ravaging her spine was hard to ignore. And she felt it grow stronger.

She should be running. But…

It seemed like a wrong choice.

She averted her eyes to the right.

The girl matched Amaya’s pace, striding on the farther end of the street. It was more of a glide as Amaya looked down she saw her legs were hardly moving.

The pj quickly looked away, sucking in a breath to calm herself, then preceded with her walk.

There was no conversation started between them except for a occasional snap produced by the static. In fact, the whole air might as well be static by now.

Amaya’s body felt wrong. Itchy, bugs crawling beneath her skin. Her head angled to the girl’s frame-

No. Don’t look at her.

Amaya clenched her fists to her sides. Dodging the girl’s dead eyes proved useless. Her skin still felt tight.

Starting a talk with the child wasn’t an option Amaya would try or like doing.

So the journey was carried with silence.

Few people who were outside, hadn’t noticed her strange companion and honestly, she wasn’t complaining.

Inside she knew the kid was watching her and that thought kept her from stopping even for a second. Just keep walking.

Blue caught Amaya’s vision. Connor’s familiar frame came into view and the boy noticed her, sprinting a bit faster.

“Connor!”

She rushed, all thought of the person following her forgotten upon seeing her friend. They both stooped far enough from each other, equally awkward.

“You, uh, doing alright?”

Connor spoke once catching his breath, eyes darting away, clearly shaken by the yesterday events. Amaya wished she could turn around to make sure the girl was there, but she would attract Connor’s attention if she did that.

Besides, a crawling sensation spreading down her back was conformation enough.

A controlled sigh left her mouth.

“Yes. I wanted to see you. I was scared because of the way you talked to Greg and…

A pause. Very short one.

“I am sorry.”

Connor’s eyes softened.

“I am sorry too..I made this mess in the first place.”

Amaya looked at him, worry crossing her expression. The brunette gave off a felling of someone who was being crushed by something invisible. Eyes possessed that reddish color from lack of sleeping, maybe even more than her and Greg normally.

Her heart hurt seeing him like this.

How can I help him when i don’t know what’s wrong?

Only one option currently laid in her mind.

“Can we do something together again? Like anything? Us three. Just to…forget about all of this for a while.”

Connor weakly nodded, a small smile reaching his face. It was a first one in a long time.

“We can try.”

Amaya returned the smile. She turned to the path she came from, Connor trailing by her side. Something in her ticked.

She surveyed her surroundings, searching for any signs of a white stained dress, the ruined make up, or the unreadable eyes.

Disappointingly, she found nothing.

Even the feeling on her back subsided, then vanished.

Chapter Text

Gekko crawled along the cracked wall of an old shop. The skyline casted a red glow of starlight onto the walls.

The texture felt foreign under his fingers. Not the familiar strong brick but a building which was a minute away from cracking under the eye of the dark sky. It felt watchful.

A stalker.

Which would be a silly thought under different circumstances. That was now a distant and wishful grasp of safety they never-

No, they would feel good again. This was just temporary…it had to be.

Suppressing a shaky sigh, the lizard hero climbed down, perhaps more careful than ever before, and looked at the dark surroundings.

A faint wind kicked up the spilled trash splayed on the sidewalk.

Gekko’s eyes squinted at the scene, movements quiet as he peered further at the mess.

I mean…it could have been knocked over by a stray cat, right?

Darkness warped around the hero’s frame.

The eyes grew wide in an instant. Cracks of something that could be comparable to electricity crooned, and it sounded like a whisper and a breath at the same time.

It spiked up into a moan, reverted back, before repeating.

Gekko huddled against the wall, a hand of fear grasping his heart, breathing coming to a stop.

Calm down…he has to-

He checked the corners and immediately wished he hadn’t.

A black figure occupied the small corner. The posture was human, and Gekko was fooled for a moment that the “figure” was just a lost person or maybe a janitor working late hours.

That wasn’t the case.
The creature’s head betrayed it. One eye instead of two ogled the lizard’s frame with a yellow grin flashing in his direction. The arms, also ink black, were opened wide like they expected a hug.

The being convulsed, imitating a noise that could be perceived as pleasure as it stared.

Gekko’s heart pounded so hard he felt it in his ears, his expression terror-stricken and his body unable to move.

The eyes that watched him so intently were strangely hypnotic. A dominance found in the predator’s power over its prey.

The grin became more prominent, almost aware of the fear it stirred in Gekko. Its jaw steadily opened and closed, opened then closed, chewing on food that wasn’t even there.

Gekko’s teeth gritted together, body locked up despite his will to run, do anything, fight…

The trance broke when the being fell on all fours and moved slowly towards him.

He activated his camouflage, hoping it would be enough to block out the nightmare.

His side folded under an unknown weight and lifted him off his feet. Air left Gekko’s throat upon connecting with a dense wall, and his yelp disturbed the quiet night. He collapsed on the pavement, scraping his right side even more on impact.

How…

He forced a breath, rising to his knees and hands. His side protested, an aching pain already forming there.

Gekko’s teeth clenched, though, he convinced himself it could have been worse.

The hero’s chest rose and fell with panicked breaths as he searched rapidly for the creature.

It was gone. No breathing. None of that weird groaning.

Only him and the night.

He pushed himself up, ignoring how his legs trembled, and limped out of the street, one arm resting against his side.

Home. He only wanted home.

Another quick flash of pain and he shut his eyes.

Exhaustion overwhelmed the fear, confusion and the pain.

Sleep. Just sleep. The heaviness in his limbs and the wound on his side would be easier to handle if his body could rest.

His breathing shifted. A ragged groan escaped him and he glanced at his side. There was no blood, yet that hardly calmed him.

He probably scratched it bad under his suit. The best thing he could do right now is return home and hope he would get some sleep. Worrying would came later.

Gekko sighed. His own suit stuck to his skin, shrinking his body as his anxiety formed and the reality of what he witnessed took hold.

That wasn’t a human! Or a villain! That-That was…a shadow? A living shadow?

With a yellow grin and one eye staring you down?

Gekko’s heart thundered against his ribs and he scanned the floor beneath like it had answers to the questions crowding in his head.

Then it stooped. He took a breath, then turn around to the masked boy standing by a parked car.

Chapter Text

"You! Oh-uh…

He was startled to see the masked kid here, which was odd since they’d met several times. At this point, Gekko felt unsure about what even to call their relationship or meetings or… whatever this was. He got the impression that the kid didn’t really like him, no matter what. The encounters were always laced with unease. Yet, a small part of him expected to run into him again.

The kid’s eyes scanned over him.

He drew slightly back, positioning himself in a more confident stance so the kid wouldn’t see his injury.

“You again, huh…of course. I did say I would see you around.”

Gekko put on the most convincing smile he could muster, silently begging that his injury would go unnoticed.

The kid blinked at him, which was already rare, even if his eyelids clipped into his skin as it happened. Gulping, Gekko evaded eye contact, looking towards the ground.

“You are hurt.”

Gekko flinched. The statement was unsettlingly blunt, that same blend of child and the sacred echo shaping the voice.

He wasted no time in figuring him out.

“What? No, I am not.”

A fruitless attempt to cover it up.

“Your breathing is different.”

Gekko’s mouth clamped shut. His head bowed, just a little. And that’s all because of the way he was watching him. The masked kid’s expression remained hard to read, emotions not being visible through his body language either.

Uncertainty churned in him as he wondered what the kid would do with this discovery. Somehow, the word “attack” felt tasteless and…untrue.

The kid closed the distance between them, eyes intently trailing over the hero’s damaged side. Gekko froze, too tense to do anything as the boy now stood close enough that Gekko could see a lizard character displayed on his shirt. A contrast compared to the shade of black he wore.

Gekko’s heart sped up as he let the boy examine his wound, knowing that being at his mercy like this was dangerous. His body’s refusal to listen and the agony pulsing through him didn’t help his situation.

The tip of Gekko’s tail quivered as a minute more passed in tension that clogged the cool air. He held his breath while waiting. The masked kid’s mouth fell as he finally tore his eyes off the hero.

Gekko thought he saw his body tense more than it did already, and the kid glanced over his shoulder. The lizard’s mouth hung open, inching to say something.

The kid’s strained voice cut in before he had a chance to form words.

“I am coming with you until you reach your home.”

Anything that Gekko was about to say deflated fast. He stammered, eyes searching the kid’s eyes as if that would somehow make things easier.

“I-oh.”

His confusion amplified as the kid took the lead, sauntering past the lizard hero. Gekko blinked and hurried after him.

“Wait!”

Pace slowing once reaching the other boy’s left side, Gekko looked at him, confusion side lining his fear and pain.

At the last second, he decided against saying it. As long as he was actually leading him home, this was fine. This wasn’t weird at all. Not in the slightest. At least his side wasn’t scared so bad he couldn’t walk.

That gave the small hero some relief in this.

Today’s night was windless, replaced by by silence. Gekko admitted it felt less scary this time. Just a little.

His eyes glanced shortly at the kid beside him who decided to be quiet now. Well since he was with him now, he might as well try to know something about this kid, right? Taking a steady breath in case this ended badly, Gekko asked the obvious first.

“So, what’s your name?”

The masked one’s body tremored briefly at the sudden question, one eye drilling into Gekko behind his mask.

…Ralph."

He didn’t know was it because of the sleep deprivation or the weight of at least one unknown detail lifting of his chest, Gekko only knew that he smiled.

“Ralph. Yea. Nice to meet you. And I am-

“Greg.”

Ralph finished, staring ahead. The surprise which hit Gekko in that moment wasn’t pleasant. His skin heated up with fresh anxiety and the side burned like the response hurt it more.

“How do you-

“I overheard it.”

Gekko had nothing to say to that. Nothing that could calm him. Setting his focus onward, as well. Ralph knowing his actual civilian name, not the superhero one he used at night, unnerved him to say the least.

Ignoring a warning shiver that climbed his spine, Gekko focused on his breathing, which was much heavier than normal thanks to his wound. It became the only anchor to the terror coursing, threatening to knock him down.

“So you just…like spying on me?”

He picked up the conversation again, not making eye contact with his pursuer. Ralph glanced at the hero, and his gaze fell to the floor, silhouetted in shadows.

“I guess.”

That’s awkward.

“Why?”

The child took a breath, shoulders sagging as he forced his attention to Gekko.

“Would the answer make you feel better?”

Gekko pondered as he considered it.

“…No.”

Was the blunt response. Ralph made no effort to continue the conversation after that. Both fell into the void that was the silence that followed. Dark clouds hung above the duo, a hint of red sheen smearing them. Sticking out compared to the black coating the sky

To Gekko, it remained the scariest part of this whole corruption, but he couldn’t deny the wonder prodding somewhere behind all that worry. The need to understand why was this happening and how. Curiosity should be the last thing on his mind now but…

He glimpsed in Ralph’s direction, who might have moved closer to the superhero while he wasn’t paying attention. A chill emitted from Gekko at the sheer sight of it, yet it felt strangely dulled. Dulled by curiosity. Fatal thing to have while you are careful not to make any wrong moves that could cost you your life.

He decided to take the risk and ask.

“Are you all right?”

Nothing better crossed his mind at the moment.

Ralph shrank back at the question, then murmured through his teeth.

“Why do you care?”

Gekko shrugged, his side protesting at the sudden movement. He ignored it, and his eyes stayed set on the kid’s mask.

“I just do. That’s what heroes are for, right?”

His eyes glinted through the holes in his mask, and he actually looked at him. The action earned a shudder from the lizard hero, but ultimately he returned the look, exhaustion in his eyes clashing with Ralph’s masked expression. Both literally and figuratively.

“Also, after what happened in the alley, I think it’s an okay thing to ask.”

He finished awkwardly, thankful for the shadows hiding his embarrassment. Ralph was now fully searching the hero’s features, gaze sliding over him in a painfully slow manner.

Gekko’s skin burned under his suit, and he desperately tried to focus on anything but the boy’s glitch-streaked face.

“Your house is here.”

Gekko was wrenched back into reality by Ralph’s voice and he stared in what was indeed his house.

“Oh! Thanks.”

Slight surprise hit Gekko once he noticed Ralph stiffening at a seemingly normal word. But Gekko kept his mouth closed. He knew this kid had gone through something horrible, and he wasn’t about to push if it would only cause more pain.

He approached his door, avoiding putting to much weight on his left leg and glanced back at Ralph one last time for this night.

A contrast to his other disappearances, the masked boy was still there, still watching. Only tearing his attention of the Greg when the boy shut the door with a click which rang unpleasantly in his ears.

He stood alone, the silence of the night deafening.

Chapter Text

Sunday was warm. Welcoming. A fireplace in the middle of ruthless winter.

Tarabiscoville buzzed with morning energy, clouds sailing over the people racing to go somewhere, children playing as it was their day off, their laughter got carried by the light wind and drifted to where Connor, Greg and Amaya were walking on the bricked sidewalk, ice cream in each of their hand, and the talk which brewed between them casual compared to the whole last week.

“Cameron really did that?”

Amaya asked enthusiastically, the ice cream melting in her hand.

“Yea!”

Connor responded with a small laugh, a glint in his eye complementing his relaxed face.

“He didn’t count on Mrs.Taylor being there.”

Amaya laughed, faint and strangled, but real. It made Connor’s face break into a smile, which he didn’t bother to hide. New warmth spread through his body, and he was grateful he could feel like this again. Even if it was just for a few seconds.

Greg watched his two friends, wearing a smile as well. But it looked…more like a mimic of a smile than an actual one. A mask. His loud silence reinforced that doubt.

Amaya noted the tension first, eyes filling again with that dreadful worry.

“Greg? You are quiet. Is everything okay?”

The youngest PJ shook his head, clearing it as if he had been half absent this whole time.

“What? No! I am great!”

He forced a weak smile again. Then Connor saw it. Pain flashed over his friend’s face, brief, yet noticeable to the brunette. The facial features twisted, like holding back a yell.

The pleasant warmth disintegrated, and freezing fear replaced the pit in his stomach.

“Greg.”

Noticing the change in his tone of voice , firmer than before, Greg squirmed on the spot, eyes looking everywhere but at them.

Amaya’s eyes narrowed at his suspicious behavior, moving closer.

“Why are you standing like that-

She nudged his side. The blonde yelped, stumbling backwards, and arm instantly shot down to the spot where Amaya bumbled into.

The two gazed at Greg, in faces crowded with confusion and concern. Greg attempted poorly to hide the visible pain flashing across his facade.

Connor exhaled, doing everything to calm himself as he locked eyes with Greg. His breath was weird. How didn’t any of them notice this sooner? Fighting to keep down the large pit of anxiety ravaging in his stomach, Connor spoke quietly, words aimed at Greg.

“Who did that?”

Greg felt smaller under the brunette’s gaze, no matter how much he knew his friend was actually just worried for him. The dark circles under his eyes indicated the fatigue they all held ever since it started. All of it.

Regretfully, Greg still found himself stuttering at the brunette’s question.

“It was a-

“Was it him?”

Connor’s eyes flashed with an intensity that was so catlike Greg needed to step back. Step back. Away from Connor.

“You mean- Greg’s eyes went wide, and he talked back way to defensively. His fists clenched tight and he surprised himself at how confident his voice came out.

“He didn’t do anything! He actually helped me come back home save!”

Connor’s anxious mask dropped at the exclamation, the shrinked pupils reverting to normal and surprise replacing the anger.

“He did?”

Amaya didn’t meet any of their eyes, preferring to stare with a weirdly blank look at the passing cars.

“Yea, he isn’t that bad actually…

The words spewed out of Greg’s mouth before he had a chance to stop. Did he…really think that? If he was the real villain would have he done that? Guided him home?

Connor at least wasn’t giving him that intense look anymore, eyes lost, searching for something Greg couldn’t detect.

“Greg, we don’t even know…

Amaya tried, but like something sharp cut her off mid sentence and the wave of terror came crashing back full force. Still fresh. Still not finished with them.

Connor broke of that cold hand of fear first, now looking at Greg with a worried expression, eyes rounding the damaged side.

"Let's just get you help first."

Amaya-as Owlette- glided to another building a few feet away, the bitter breeze stinging her skin as she landed on its rooftops.

Looking below, she spotted no one, the town far past asleep. The sleepless nights were getting aggravating. To the point where she enjoyed the outdoors more, mostly because that’s the only thing she could really distract her mind with.

And dismissing the obvious horrors overtaking the city. Owlette never crossed paths with Gekko and Catboy, but she knew they also lurked outside many nights. If not more. Besides, the three needed to take stock of the city, anyway.

Maybe more than ever. A grim thought hit her, which she quickly pushed away. There was no time for dread. She took to the skies once more, surveying the ground below like a hawk, her super owl sight activated. Pretty normal things caught her attention. Parked cars, glinting lamps, shadows…a lot of shadows.

In fact, the whole atmosphere of their place was painfully off. Owlette kind of hoped she would get used to that by now. She didn’t. It got worse. The fear got worse.

Pushing past the growing exhaustion in her limbs, Owlette continued watching. She regretted her decision the moment her eyes contacted a hobbling form of a woman striding in large steps across the pavement.

The person’s right leg practically dragged behind her, nothing more than dead weight it looked like. Breaths convulsing, unexplainably heavy to Owlettte’s ears. The darkness narrowing around the woman’s frame made it impossible to make out any clear features even with her owl abilities. The limp leg cracked, the sound of bone being rearranged into place. She assumed frantically as the figure’s walking shifted into a confident stroll. As confident as it could be as her legs plummeted at random times into hard asphalt. Almost like floating.

She wasn’t swift enough in deciding should she should follow the woman or not.

Because her owl sight couldn’t find her anymore. She disappeared. Another mystery in this nightmare.

Chapter Text

A throttle. A pained gasp leaving his lips.

His arm grappling his throat like he owns it.

The memory brought a swell of anxiety to Connor in the broad daylight. Walking in an attempt to clear the stew of thoughts in his head barely helped. Actually, it didn’t help at all. The man was somewhere in their city. Connor knew he wasn’t just waiting for him as Catboy to save the people he…attacked.

Connor aged. Okay, that was weird to say. He was still in middle school, so it’s wrong technically in that respect. Connor didn’t mean from the outside. Rather, the age showed somewhere beneath his child exterior. An angry dog, like a monster right out of the horror movies Connor wasn’t allowed to watch. He would compare that weird “age” feeling with a cold that stuffs your senses and makes you nauseous. Exhausted.

He made a gesture to clear his head and regretted it, pain bouncing against his skull like a ping pom ball.

With his teeth gritted together, Connor brushed his bruised neck with his fingertips. It was way fainter than before. Healing slowly, even if the boy still could imagine the scars while they were fresh. Burning into his skin like fire ants were biting his throat. All of it felt like yesterday.

And tonight, he needed to face the man who gave him those scars. Again. A cold, familiar presence vibrated over his shoulder. He tilted his head and was met by Tommy’s glazed brown eyes, and despite how close he was to the brunette, Connor realized he didn’t fear as much as he should.

“Does it still hurt?”

Tommy’s voice was weak, careful maybe. The unnerving innocence bled through his words.

Connor chewed his lip. The scars were completely faded, yet Tommy clearly saw them, anyway. And his mind drifted to the man upon the mention. The veins on his neck tensed, and he swallowed.

“No.”

He answered after some seconds of silence, pulling up his sleeve and staring at the traffic lights, the shimmer turning the road yellow while the day shifted into night.

The other boy backed a step, but it was far from enough to close the distance between them. Connor fidgeted, arms strictly pressed to his sides. He figured out Tommy just seems to be following him. There was no answer as to why, and Connor promptly learned that asking Tommy wouldn’t help. If the experience at the school wasn’t proof already.

He glanced briefly at the boy who…stood still as stone.

I mean, he is good at it.

Connor carefully turned on his heel to leave and made his way towards a cake shop. Every step bounced off the stone exterior louder the more he advanced, and he turned his head to check for the boy. Tommy followed his parting with the most emotion Connor had seen from him so far. A nearly pleading gleam bloated Tommy’s features, eyes slightly wider.

A pang of guilt hit him upon seeing the kid’s expression even after everything he witnessed. Yet, he didn’t stop. His legs moved on it’s own, guiding him towards that store, the different cakes visible through the glass as he moved closer.

Strawberry, lemon, chocolate…all those flavors. No hunger from Connor. Not even a rumble by his stomach.

A sigh which barely felt like his own left him and he failed to accept the truth of how nothing ever would be the same. How playing with his friends won’t be the same, how the laughter will be muffled noise coming from behind a vent, how the sunlight would be impossible to stand in

The moment Connor’s chest tightened, he threw away those thoughts in a pathetic attempt to erase, searching desperately for any kind of distraction.

A small ‘mew’ made his heart jump.

His head darted to the ground. The blue street cat looked up at him, tail swishing lazily. Connor saw this cat walk around the city sometimes. And by the looks of it, he seemed healthy.

Connor’s hand twitched and he crouched down, caressing the cat’s lower chin, which with it accepted happily with a purr. Connor’s breath hitched in his throat, but he stubbornly pushed it back. Now it wasn’t the time to think about how he himself purred in front of his knifed attacker, and he gripped the cat’s fur enough to ground him, but not to hurt.

“At least, someone is happy.” he chuckled weakly,

Movement flicked behind him and Connor angled his body in it’s direction. Tommy hovered close, as expected.One hand scratching the cat under her jaw, the brunette called to the boy.

“Do you wanna…pet him?”

Tommy blinked, head swiveling towards the animal. A moment drawled long enough for Connor to think it was the wrong thing to ask, then it deflated like a balloon when Tommy knelt to his level.

He made no motion with his hand. Only stared numbly at the animal which returned the stare, one ear twitching, but no hissing. From the way Tommy breathed next to him- the sensation which was child’s cries mixed with static- It became obvious how he wasn’t excited about the option of touching the feline.

Connor smiled, more tired than anything.

“It’s okay…

Tommy cocked his head, but for once he denied looking at him. Contemplating if this was the right choice or not didn’t last long because Connor’s free hand moved first, trembling slightly.

His fingers were a hovering above Tommy’s clammy hand…then he dropped it gently. A crackle of electricity razed through, vibrating unevenly beneath his fingers. A layer of small pulses alive under all of it, fidgeting and bubbling. It was kinda like touching a heated computer after long use.

The child’s head twisted and Connor saw his jaw slack open, the breathing stuttering.

Tommy hadn’t moved away. No matter how foreign Connor’s gesture was. Connor’s heart thumped loudly as he guided the boy’s arm to the cat. Her eyes half lidded, the cat let Tommy’s fingers graze her furred jaw, earning another happy purr. Tommy looked uncertain, maybe taken aback by the cat’s eagerness.

Connor lifted his arm off Tommy’s and his lip tilted upward.

“See? It’s not so bad.”

One eye surveying Connor, Tommy’s hand slipped away from the cat after some seconds of purr’s and pets.

Tommy was up, and his bleak gaze and the holding of his shoulders made Connor wonder if he committed a stupid mistake. But Tommy didn’t ran off, didn’t fade into nothing, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

Stupid stupid stupid.

He went rigid when he got up, leaving the cat to pad towards a bakery, and found Tommy actually shaking, eyes shifting wildly in his skull. Knew it. He should have listened to his instincts and been smart for once, but nooo, Connor needed to help him pet a cat.

His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to fix this mess.

“Hey…I am sorry if-

“Can you do that again?”

Connor’s mouth stayed open. Tommy regarded Connor while still trembling like a leaf, the plea creeping into every syllable. Connor continued staring dumbfounded at the former boy.

His sentences were strangled when he finally spoke.

“Do that again? Like hold your hand?”

Breathing like he was drowning in water, Tommy bowed his head, panting now to the point Connor was getting concerned.

“Please…

The voice dropped into a tiny beg, and Connor could only stand in visible confusion at the display of sudden emotion in front of him from a boy he thought to be near emotionless. Unnerved, Connor stepped towards the frantic child, the hand he touched Tommy with tingling.

“Uh, sure, just calm down…

Tommy did everything but that, whipping his body at Connor’s agreement, like a dog who heard the word treat.

If this was the way he would make Tommy stop looking at him like that, then fine. So gently, barely connecting with the boy’s skin, the brunette brushed Tommy’s knuckles with his. Tommy’s jaw gritted, fingers prickling where Connor grazed him and the rest of the limb going numb. The little spark of static energy returned, nibbling at Connor’s fingers. Comparable to a baby animal biting you because it wants to play, not hurt.

Connor didn’t hate it.

Observing a tremble present in the boy’s motion, he let it bite, now grasping Tommy’s hand instead of simply brushing him.

The brunette gazed up to meet Tommy’s face, whose eyes strained shut, and he could only wonder what he was thinking. He stopped shaking too, so that was a plus.

He did not know why Tommy got worked up over one touch, and in his defense Connor admitted it was a kind of his fault.

Then Connor heard him say something he never expected to hear from him, eyelids remained closed.

“Thank…Thank you…

Connor’s heart leapt briefly, and he stammered out.

“You…re welcome.”