Chapter 5 An Argument Between Half-Strangers

I'm hungry. I'm almost to the brink of fullness. I just can't seem to catch anything with the snares this week. I've done SO MUCH over this time, taking care of Ernest and his fellow companion. I did not expect them to give me SUCH an appetite, but they've proven quite cold. As they say, much effort brings out the best in people. Ernest and his fellow have proven my care so effective, that they starve me now.

I'm so unhappy. I weep with joy.

They are probably wondering why their loveless parent has not craved them for so long. Don't worry, my ink travelers, once I find enough snacks I'll toss you to death once more.

You both won't be waiting for long. I know you miss my fickle attempts to let you live. See you soon. hehehehehehehe.

*

Click. Click.ClickClickClickClickclickclickclickclick. EerrrClank.

Thump.  Thump. Thump.

In a nondescript hallway an out of place locker is rocking back and forth.  Struggling noises come from inside.  Sounds like the door is under siege by a giant. 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The Locker's door burst open. KerClatchShriek! SLAM!

Sploosh.

Spilling out in a mess are Reader and Ernest.  They're both coughing and hacking.  Slipping in the muck of ink goop.  Strings and strands of the stuff clinging them to the floor and walls. 

Coughcoughcough.  Oh my lungs.  Coughing all over the place.  No lung stay inside my chest.  Come on knees.  Wobbly knees stop knocking each other.  The floor is slick with this ink.  How can it be slick AND sticky at the same time?!
Wall be my support. 

Ernest isn't moving, nope there he goes.  That reflexive self-righting.  Cough cough.  Good he seems sick too.  Cough. Cough. Why isn't he coughing as much as me?  Cough.  How much of this stuff is in me?  Aaahh... feel sick.  Feel so sick.

"Ernest- *cough cough* Ernest-"

Ernest came over and did the least helpful thing -

"No *cough hack* Stop [thump] slam-*cuuph*ing *craaugh* my back."

"You want to get all of it out Reader.  Here let me help."

"What are you *cough cough*."

"I'm just going to do the Heimlich maneuver.  Don't struggle so much.  One. Two."

"*Bleeaaaaarg*" Oh god what is that coming out?

"And again."

"*BuBulugh*"
"No more?  Should I punch the gut instead?"

"Stop Ernest. *Cough cough* Enough.  It's a miracle I still have lungs to cough with."

Ernest gave a sympathetic look and shrugged. 
His ink stained hands opened in a helpless gesture.

"I'm just trying to spare you from the nightmares Reader.  We did get exposed to the ink heavily just now."

Exposed? More like force fed.  Wait.  Eating the ink.  Then it's not just my lungs?

"If you don't want my help anymore for recovery, then don't forget to throw up."

What is this a flashback? There was that cloud of ink we swam back to.  And that creature Ernest turned to try and fight.  It threw Ernest at me, forcing my mouth open.  The ink filled everything then.  If an amorphous shape could be given emotion I would have to say it was greatly pleased with our state of vulnerability.  Got engulfed.  Filling every... That means I ate some.  I feel sick.  I feel-

Reader pukes all over the place.

There's no need for extra sound effects this time.  Let's just say that there was so much expulsion of material that Reader couldn't even hear Reader's own internal thoughts.  We will try to replicate this moment anyways.

Oh gawd-Bllurraagh-somuchis-cough coughblreakruwaagh-can't stop soendless-retch-am I blanching?Am I turning a shade of death? Wait a pause. I think. I think I got it-graaaaoughlblrawgh-is it changing colors- waaargh uuurrragh-I don't remember eating this much what am I-ha ha ho... hooo.. hwaaa... heave heave-okay now I think it's just dry heaves.  Okay.

Now that ... That. Is over with.  What a lovely view of my hand.  Is the lock still? No it just slithered off.  Now it's crawling its way up the locker door.  Snaking around, yep.  Nothing like being on all fours and watching what is supposed to be an inanimate object morph, move and then set itself as if it was just completely normal.  As if none of this happened.  Even the ink is now receding back into that 'place'.  Or 'it'.  Or whatever.  Something is in my hand.  Huh.

The medallion was still there. 

The Twins.

Ernest glared at the thing. 

"Who are the Twins?"

"Give me the coin Reader."

"Who are they? Why are they chained up?"

"Give me the coin."

"Why were they in those pictures?  Why did you tell me not to look at them or touch anything of theirs?"

"Give me the coin!"

Ernest lunged forward and snatched at the coin. 

Erah.  He really has a hold on it.  Nnnnnnn! His grip is too strong. 

Ernest forces the coin out of Reader's hand getting an earful for his trouble.

"It's my coin! I found it! If it wasn't for me then we would have both been stuck back there!"

Ernest rips off some of his vest and wraps the coin, handling it like it was some kind of biting animal. Ernest looks back at Reader and shakes his head.

"Ask me something else.  Don't ask me about the Twins."

"Ernest, You said you would answer my questions! Tell me about the Twins!"

"Anything else!"

"Tell me!"

"Anything else Reader!  I will answer anything else.  But not them.  Don't talk about them.  Don't ask - don't ask about this."

He finished that sentence by waving the coin in Reader's face.  The argument took the last of Ernest's stamina.  Tired, he shuffled down the hall saying, "I... I'm going to be late for class."

Frustrated Reader stormed off. 

For once the Locker didn't laugh.  It didn't snicker.  It didn't click.  Or clank. 

The Locker was silent.

And that ominous silence... Was worse than the crazed laughter.

*

Where is he?  I have gone through these halls and searched through the classes.  Haven't seen him for a week now.  No he's not in this room either.  Is it just bad timing? Or has he just not come to school?  Is he in- no.  No luck in this class either.  Might as well just have a seat and rest for a bit.

What am I going to do when I see him?  Punch him in the face?  Kick in the shins?  Frown? Glare?  Stamp my foot?  When we see each other again, will it just be as if nothing happened?  Should I be the one apologizing?  But no, I mean he was the one being all rough about the coin.  Coin. Twins. Ernest. Those sketches. 

Reader gave a sigh.

Whenever I think of Ernest I can't stop thinking about the Twins.  He was rather determined not to talk about them.  But that must mean they are important for some reason.  Were there any other questions I wanted to ask?  I asked about the jelly - ink - thing.  That globular black stuff.  He gave a few descriptions on it, but he doesn't seem to really know what it is either.  Ernest's grip and feats of strength... They seem to tie in with the ink.  He said he ate it.  Then showed those claws.  Okay.  And the Locker... He said it was a game.  But when he tried talking about how he got dragged into all of this, he didn't seem sure about his own answer.  Is it just that hard to talk about it?  I guess it is strange.  Slightly traumatic.

Other things to ask.  Was it even worth asking? Drawing a blank.

The Twins... the Twins.  Why not answer that question?

Nagging.  Nagging question. 

Twins.

Beautiful Girl.

Handsome Boy.

Thing chasing after them in the sketches? 
Was it the same as the thing chasing after us?

What exactly was it that we were fighting last time.  It had multiple appendages so a ... squid? Octopus?  Some other sea-based killing machine?  I have a sinking feeling that it didn't want to eat us, so much as inject that ink into us. 

Now that's a disturbing thought.

Talking out loud to myself now.  Free of quotation marks here.  No other questions coming to mind.  Just the 'Twins'.  Two beautiful people dressed in sexy clothes with faraway looks in their eyes and chains... 

Were they prisoners?  Were they once like Ernest..? 
Were they once players?  Friends?

Are they family of his?

Family.  That's right... Family.  Friends.  There was... is... a life before all of this.  With or without family or friends... but that's all a different thing. 

Why won't Ernest talk about the Twins? 

This classroom is empty.  Just a soundboard for my thoughts. 
None of my questions are answered. 
Or I should say... My all consuming question about the Twins is unanswered.

*

Reader left the classroom behind to stalk the halls aimlessly.  Thoughts of beautiful people and their meaning strayed through the mind. 

The school system blended away without Reader to realize.  The Locker.

Standing right in front of it.

The Locker stood there.  Not hostile.  Not enticing.  It was just 'there'. 

Laying there at its door.  Covered in gore.  Like a gunshot victim, bam bam.  Sprawled in front of the Locker in a mess.

No.  There's nothing there.  No corpse to greet me.

"Any second now he's going to come walking down that hall with that stupid look of confidence and mix of surprise.  'Oh Reader, you are here already.  To the assignments then.'  Any second now... Any second."

Nothing.  No one. 

Has it really only been a week?

The Twins.

Reader's hand was at the Lock.

Nothing happened. 

Huh? Oh it isn't locked.  It's just hanging there.

The door was slightly open. 

Reader unhooked the lock and it lazily slithered around the wrist. 
Really enthusiastic to see you too creepy thing.  Well I've been here a few times before.  I mean it can't be that hard.  The door is even open.  So I'll just slide right through here...

It sure is dark in here.

Maybe... Maybe...

"Ernest?"

Voice sounded so hollow yet dead here.  Am I still moving? No the floor is moving.  Ugh it's starting to spin into the void.  If the exit wasn't there then I wouldn't even be sure -  Picking up speed.  Don't want to get sick again. 

The exit vanished.

A new room spun into being. 

I'm seeing it as a room at least.  There is an outline.  It's confusing, because it also looks transparent.  Doors and walls look hollow.  Hey it's Ernest.  There he is inside.  Laying spread eagle on the ground.  Ew his eyes are open.  Is he sleeping with them open? They are really blank.  Mouth ajar.  Dead?  No.  There is a slight rise and fall of the chest.  What is that noise-he's snoring now and then.  Can I enter into this room? 

Reader touched the door and it dissipated into sluggish smoke. 
Instantly Ernest sprung up nearly colliding with Reader. 

The room spun away into nothing.  The pair traversed an unseen world. 

It feels like I'm being tossed between two hands.  I want to see if he's awake now, but it's hard enough trying to stay balanced.  Errfph.  Alright I think I got the hang of it. 

"Ernest?"

He didn't respond.  Those eyes looked dead, gazing far away without registering anything. 

There was something wrapped in one of his clawed hands.  

The medallion!  Or coin! Or whatever it was! 

See if I can pry it out of his hand. 

It won't budge.

Ugh the tossing sensation is getting worse.  Getting harder not tossing insides.  Actually.  The thought of being juggled, then vomiting, then having the vomit being juggled around with me is enough of a deterrent to not get sick.

Let's just focus on getting that coin.

All this tugging... Can't. Get. It. Out.

Rip.

YES! No.  Just cloth.

I need something to pry it loose from that iron grip... or something to lubricate it... 
Now that I think about it I have some of that ink still don't I?
Yes there it is.  Feels like an iron weight in my pocket.
It helps that Ernest isn't moving.  Rubrubrub this ink on that coin.  A smear here. A smear there.

Rub the rest on my hands.

Alright.

Pull. PULL.

Plop.

I got itwhoa.  Everything just stopped.  After all that motion it feels like my brain is swimming.  This must be what it feels like to freeze in mid toss.  But being the item of course.

Hmm... Don't have time to worry about that.

Coin.

Shiny coin is shiny.  And shiny coin is freaking me out by sucking the ink from my hands.  Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.  I hope it doesn't start sucking me in there.

Is it getting brighter?  Yep.  Light is filtering in.  Somewhere in the distance is the sound of turning blocks locking into place.  Maybe that's enough to finally wake Ernest up.  Haha, can't wait to show him! Pulled that coin right out of his -

Ha...nds...

Reader can see Ernest clearly now. 

He was trapped in a web of ink. 

As if hanged to die.

W... w..

Light was rubbing into existence. 
Like white out, the image slowly burned out. 
The black bleeding away. 

Reader dropped the coin. 

Cha-Ching~

Reader was thrown violently out of the Locker. 

*

"Reader.  Reader.  Wake up.  What are you doing sleeping in the hallway?"

Ernest?

"Did you collapse from the last adventure?  It was pretty rough.  But up and at it.  There's new homework to do.  Well to be honest I think it's overdue."

Reader's eyes brought Ernest into focus.  He looked more haggard than usual.  The bags under his eyes were worse than before.  He seemed genuinely worried or annoyed about something.

"I-uh...  ... I wanted to apologize about last time.  I didn't mean to be rough.  It's just...  Well anyways.  Sorry."

That was good enough for now.

"Heehahahahhaa.  All made-up now?  Safe again friends.  Hahaha welcome then! WelcomeWelcome Welcome back~!  The show's about to start so Ladies and Gents, walk right into my Gullet! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

At least. 

The Locker seems back to normal.