Chapter 29

Once again, Kit takes the couch. And tomorrow morning, he will regret letting Dee take the bed. He really has to buy at least another mattress. Even if it's at the monthly flea market. Being a responsible guardian doesn't need to come at the expense of his own well-being.

"Goodnight!" Dee calls from the bedroom door.

Easy for you to say, Kit thinks bitterly, my poor back is going to have to bear with it all tomorrow.

Dee yawns and gives a small wave before going inside. Kit can't help but notice they leave the door open. So they sleep with the door open… In his mind, it had always been a weird habit other people had. There was nothing weird with it, it was just he didn't understand why. But Dee apparently had it. They were the first person Kit knew who did so. He hadn't known, but he supposed that living under the same roof, he would end up discovering a lot of other quirks and habits they had.

In fact, he had already noticed a few of them. The first night, Dee had been so out of it, they hadn't even changed out of their clothes, so there hadn't been much opportunity for cohabitation. But now, he felt like they had grown closer somehow.

Maybe it's the talk from before. It wasn't– It wasn't exactly a heart-to-heart talk, not completely, but it had been something. They had learned more about the other, and now he finds himself feeling a certain sort of kinship with Dee.

Kit realises he didn't answer Dee, but now it's probably too late, too much time has passed. "Goodnight," he softly says. Dee probably doesn't hear him. Most likely, they fell asleep as soon as their head hit the pillow if the way they were swaying in place before going to bed is any indication. But he says it anyway, just for the slim possibility that she might hear, even if only in their sleep.

Kit lays down on the couch, arranging his body in a way that his limbs won't be hanging out (or at least not completely hanging out). But even with his body feeling tired from the day's activities, he can't conceive of sleep. Thoughts keep racing across his head, and his heart beats loudly in his chest. The summer heat makes the air sticky, and after a few minutes, he throws the blanket to the floor.

Tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable position he spends the next couple of hours unable to fall asleep. He almost wants to run to the drug store to buy something that will knock him out, or at least relax his body, but in the end he decides against it. His stomach has never agreed that well with any sort of sleeping pills. At this time, it is already past midnight. The hours tick by agonisingly, every second that passes amplified in the quiet of his apartment. There is a sort of peacefulness like he has never known before in the atmosphere, a certain hush which has also fallen over the entire building. Not even the sound of a breeze disturbs the night. Only the ticking of the clock and his own breathing can be heard.

Slowly, like snow falling over fields, drowsiness starts settling beneath his skin. His eyelids start feeling heavy, and finally, his eyes close and sleep takes him.

But even then, his dreams are plagued by fitful visions.

He is standing in a dark, cold room. The four walls around him, even if he can't see them he can feel their oppressive presence trapping him, looming over his figure like giants. For a few minutes, he only stands there, shivering from the cold, until a light appears. It's small, dim, as if it were at the end of a hallway.

He starts walking towards it, his footsteps making a muffled noise against the floor. Walking, for what feels like hours, he finally makes it to the source of the light. There's a translucent curtain dividing both rooms, and he pushes it aside to walk past.

When he steps beyond, his eyes take a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness. But before they can fully adjust, there's a piercing scream, like getting shot through the head, tearing through the air. It sends goosebumps across his whole upper body.

And then another comes, this time closer sounding than the first one. Gradually, more and more join the chorus, until his ears are ringing from the shrill sounds. By now, his eyes have adjusted to the environment, and he is able to make out the scene in front of him. To his horror, he is back at the slaughterhouse, the sight of the mangled and torn bodies burning into his eyes. It's the same, except this time, the souls— no, the bodies; because he can see this time they are physical bodies— are writhing across the floor, crawling towards him.

He takes a step backwards, but he steps on something that makes a sickening crunching noise under his foot. He looks behind, and he sees he has stepped on the hand of one of the bodies. He can't escape. He's been completely surrounded.

As they advance, dragging themselves across the ground, their bodies falling apart even more with the movement, Kit can feel his body getting paralysed with fear. A few seconds later, there are fingers clawing at his legs, their hands raw and bloody, the skin just barely hanging off the bone. And they're cold. Cold as ice. Cold like death.

The sensation prompts his body into motion, and, not caring if he steps over them, he starts walking backwards. Back towards the dark room he had come from. But just as he is about to step through the curtain, the grip the bodies have on his lower legs becomes iron-like, pinning him in place. And then there's a pain in his chest, erupting with such intensity he can't even scream, his vision going blank. This… It's nothing like he has felt before.

He looks down to see the tips of a set of fingers, their appearance like claws, protruding directly from where his heart is located. The blood spurts out with every heartbeat, the liquid smearing even across his face. With another burst, the hand penetrates even deeper, and now he can almost see the entire hand. The pain becomes even worse, his entire body screaming in agony even while his mouth remains unable to produce any sounds.

He… His heart is going to be ripped directly from his chest. And he won't be able to do anything except stare.

Slowly, almost mechanically, he turns his neck to look behind, following the direction from where the hands must be coming.

His heart stops beating for a few seconds.

Standing there behind him is a figure. It looks like a person, but they are standing behind the curtain, and he can't make out anything other than a hazy outline. But it's not the features that make the sweat start pouring down his face. It's the presence, like standing in the face of an abyss, teetering on the edge and knowing, any second now, you will fall off, the darkness below swallowing you up. It's like staring into the face of Death.

The figure lets out a low, guttural laugh, making Kit's whole body tremble with fear. This… He knows, with a certainty he has never felt before in his life, that he will die.

But just as the hand is about to tighten around his heart, he startles awake, sitting up violently. The pressure in his chest has disappeared, but his heart is beating erratically, and he's gasping for air. A few salted crackers fall on his lap.

"Aw!" Dee's voice sounds somewhere behind him. "I was almost up to twelve…"

"What?" His voice comes out raspy and his throat and mouth feel like sand has been poured into them. He doesn't know if it's because he is feeling too disoriented to understand Dee's words or they are simply not making sense.

"Uh." Dee realises she said that last part out loud. "Nothing. Forget it."

Kit looks down and finally sees the crackers. "...Were you stacking them on my forehead?"

"...No." Dee lets a beat of silence pass. "Yeah, I was. Sorry."

"Why?" He's not particularly bothered by the fact, it just seems like something bizarre and pointless to do. He has to at least appreciate that Dee didn't decide to draw on his face, instead choosing a more harmless activity.

"I was bored." She says it as if it were obvious.

"And you couldn't find something else to do?" He brushes some crumbs that had stuck off his face, and then gathers the crackers and places them in a neat stack on the table.

"Well, I could have watched TV but I didn't want to wake you up."

That is… Weirdly considerate but at the same time not. Well, it would be if they hadn't decided the alternative was to use his forehead as a game board.

"...You looked like you were having a… very interesting dream. You kept moving so it was actually really hard to get all the crackers to stay in place. I actually had to put a lot of effort into it." Dee picks up the crackers from the table and starts eating them. "I would like at least a bit of recognition for that."

Kit ignores her. "I'm going to take a shower." He feels sticky with sweat, and the feeling of bony hands clutching his legs still lingers. A cold shower should get rid of the sensation; he hopes so. He stands up and starts heading towards the bathroom, but after only a few steps, Dee's voice stops him.

"Are…" There is a hint of hesitation in their words. "How are you feeling?"

"Hm?" Kit turns to look at them. "Why'd you ask?"

"It's just… You look kinda pale…"

"Ah? I do?"

"You were also looking kinda spacey." Dee bites her lip. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes. Don't worry about it. It's nothing. I just didn't sleep too well last night." It's technically not a lie, but it also isn't the complete truth. But to be burdening Dee with his own problems is not something he is going to do.

"Alright!" Dee accepts his explanation easily, and they continue eating, cramming several crackers into their mouth at once.

How nice, Kit thinks, to be able to live with so little worry in their life. He can't help but feel a bit jealous.

Even Mousie and Gnocchi already have an idea of it, even if it's only a vague outline. And that is only because they were eavesdropping, something Dee wasn't interested in doing. So Dee is the only one who's been left in the dark. To not know of the imminent catastrophe that could strike at any moment… How would that feel? To be able to continue living your life without the ever-present dread that the end could come at any moment without warning. Kit once again thinks of the people who had died just two days ago. What was their life like before? They must have been going about their day like any other, with absolutely no idea they would die in a few hours. What could have been going through their minds during their last moments on Earth? If he could, would he choose to know when his last moment would be? Or would he prefer to be taken by surprise?

At this moment, he thinks he would prefer the latter. If he could, he wishes he could return to the time when none of this was real. Back to when the presence of a demon was only an inkling suspicion and not fact. This waiting with bated breath for when the next time the demon will act, watching as the hours slowly trickle by, yet having to keep a calm exterior and carry on as usual… It almost feels pointless to go through the motions, knowing that this could be his last day on Earth.

If only… Dee has absolutely no idea how lucky they are. But he doesn't begrudge them. A life that has already been through so many hardships; Dee deserves to be able to cling on to a bit more of their childhood.

He steps under the shower, the spray of cold water soothing him. He simply stands there, his eyes closed, enjoying the rhythmical sound of the water coming out of the showerhead and falling over his body.

'To reduce the damages. Contain it as much as possible' That's what Kat had said they should try to do. All of them knew the order of "extermination" was suicide; it was simply impossible, but those were the only guidelines they could go by. The higher-ups had as good as left them to die. But they also couldn't just sit idly by and do nothing. So the best they could do was try to reduce the number of casualties as much as they could. At minimum, to make sure the threat wouldn't get out of this town.

But as he thinks of what that would mean; to take the demon down with them, his stomach twists uncomfortably. Desperately, he thinks, 'I don't want to die.'

It's normal, he knows, to be afraid of death. It's probably one of the most common fears. But never before has he ever felt it as clear as he does now. Even when he had close brushes with it before, it is nothing compared to the mind-numbing, leg-weakening thing he feels at this moment, standing in the shower. Before, his consciousness had been too far gone and his body coursing with adrenaline for him to think clearly, and thus the terror hadn't properly registered in his brain. Now, however, he has had time to think about it clearly, and he finds himself terrified. If it comes to it, if he really is faced with the prospect of having to give himself to a horrible, painful death… He doesn't think he would be able to do it. At the slaughterhouse, he had been able to say all those brave words to himself, about sacrificing himself and ensuring the other got out safely, because he hadn't actually been in imminent danger. There was Dog, and Baz, and there wasn't actually a demon staring him down. Yes, he had been afraid, but it hadn't been like what he had experienced in his dream, when the certainty that his last breath was near, and the paralysing panic that overtook him… None of that had been present. He doesn't want to die.

He doesn't want to die and yet there's nothing in his power he can do to stop what seems to be becoming less a possibility and more of an inevitably every passing minute.

But he can't keep thinking about it, or else he will spiral and dig himself into a hole he won't be able to come out of. He turns the shower knob, incrementing the pressure and letting the noise drown out all his thoughts.

~~~

When Kit finally comes out of the bathroom (he has no idea how long he was in the shower), the sound of the television can be heard from the living room. He walks in to see Dee standing almost in front of the TV. The sounds of a fight scene echo through the room, and on screen, there are two animated figures engaged in a duel, accompanied by over-the-top explosions and actions.

"What are you doing?" he asks, towelling his hair as he comes to stand almost directly behind Dee. "You're going to go blind sitting that close to the TV," he says, but there is a hint of amusement in his tone. He has no idea if that is true, but it is something he was told by his mother, and he finds himself saying it before he can even think too much about it.

Dee doesn't even turn to look his way, just waves her hand in a half-hearted gesture of having heard him, which she probably hasn't. Not if they way their eyes are glued to the scene on the screen and how she doesn't even budge an inch from her position are anything to go by.

Almost by accident, Kit glances at the clock by the entrance. When he sees the time, he can feel his soul fly out of his body. "It's past noon?!" He knew it was late, but not this late. At most, he thought, it was barely ten!

"Eh?" At this, hearing the alarmed tone he uses, Dee finally looks at him. "Is it? I hadn't noticed." She turns back to the TV.

"Why didn't you wake me up?!"

"Was I supposed to?" They scratch their chin. "You didn't say anything about it."

"..." They were right, he hadn't, so he could hardly expect them to have done it. But they'd had no problem waking them if they wanted something! If there hadn't been any food in the kitchen, he's sure he would have been woken up before seven!

"And why'd you even want to wake up early for?" Dee asks, eyes still on the television, not looking at him.

"Because I have to go to work," he groans, plopping down onto the couch. "Or at least I should have…" It's no use trying to get ready now. It's too late and going in this late will raise too many questions. Even if he just slept in, to sleep in this late is just… It's just too much. He wouldn't be able to admit it and face the other afterwards. After a few minutes of careful consideration, he decides he will just pull a page out of Baz's book and simply not go to work today.

One day can't hurt, and tomorrow he will simply say he was feeling sick and that is why he missed work. (He will have to bribe Dee with something to get her to back up his story.) He'll say he had an upset stomach; that should keep people from asking too many questions. For now, he plans to stay home, perhaps go do the grocery shopping he had planned on later in the evening if he feels up to it. Even with the cold shower, he still feels tired. He really hadn't been lying to Dee when he said he hadn't been able to sleep well.

Suddenly, his stomach growls. Ah… It really is past noon. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until now. Thank god he had bought some food last night, or else he would have had to go out, something he would rather avoid at the moment.

But when he goes to the kitchen, the complete lack of food becomes apparent when he opens the fridge, and the only item staring back at him is the fruit punch, and this has already been reduced to less than half. The second package of nuggets he had been planning on heating up is gone, as are the remaining mozzarella sticks from last night and the yoghurts he'd bought (supposedly for breakfast today). Even the bags of snacks are all empty, with the exception of the salted crackers, and even that one only has a few crumbs left. He was sure they hadn't been like that yesterday…

"Dee?" he calls from the kitchen.

"What?" Her tone sounds bored.

"Did you eat everything that was in the kitchen this morning?"

The answer takes a few moments to arrive. "Um…"

Kit sighs. "Forget it. It doesn't matter." He rubs his face. It doesn't matter, he tells himself. Except… He is, once again, with no food. He had promised himself he wouldn't be buying frozen meals from today forward, and he plans to stick to this promise, but he is simply not in the mood to go shopping to prepare a meal right now.

As if struck by lightning, he remembers the coupon from that bakery, sitting uselessly in the pocket of some pair of dirty pants. He doesn't know which ones though; there are too many lying around his room. (He should really do his laundry one of these days.) But… It is one solution to his problem. Even if he is reluctant to go back there (he still doesn't trust the owner completely, even if she seems to have warmed up to him at the end), he has to admit it would be a shame to let that coupon go to waste. It is two free meals after all, and he doesn't exactly have the luxury to turn that offer down.

"Dee?" He starts heading to the bedroom to start searching through all his dirty clothes for that piece of paper.

"What is it now?" They sound annoyed.

"Do you want to go get lunch?" Kit taps his chin once. "This time to a real place," he adds.

"Really?!" Dee's tone has completely changed. They come to the bedroom almost a second afterwards. "You really mean it?!" A grin spreads across their entire face. If he didn't know better, he would think she hadn't eaten anything today either from how excited they look at the prospect.

"Yeah." Kit bends down to pick up a pair of pants, and he hands it to Dee. "But first you have to help me find a coupon for the place."

Dee's expression falters a little at that.

"It's for a free meal. Two, in fact."

Immediately, the grin returns. "Free food you say?" They snatch the pair of pants from his hands. "Let's find that fucking coupon in record time then!"