Goblin in the Streets

      The nights had taken on a distinctly different atmosphere since the news of disappearances spread around Burrowgatory. Buns didn’t feel like going out for a night of revelry alone was such a good idea, and decided to keep their hedonistic pursuits closer to home for the time being. The empty streets whispered to those still courageous enough to venture out, sweet words of malice crescendoing with the wind. Strangers no longer offered companionship for the night to others, instead turning their backs onto fellow bun and doll alike. The eeriness, late autumn fog, and cries of imps really completed the foreboding feeling.

      And all of that was just since the disappearances began. Once the murders commenced, well, nobunny left their homes after dark unless absolutely necessary. Dolls brought flashlights, homemade weapons, pepper spray, their friends… no one felt even remotely safe. The bouncers, bodyguards, hitmen, and general riffraff clutched their bats and knives a little harder, a little closer to their torsos. Once the crystal’s light began to wane, businesses shuttered and communicable gathering spots closed their doors. Hardly a peep could be heard throughout Burrowgatory.
      One bun however, was completely oblivious to the general change in tone.

      This bun scuttled along like a shelon on land, a stray piece of garbage catching their gleaming yellow eyes. They shuffled over to sniff the crumpled paper, lick it, and toss it around in their hooves before abandoning it to the alley it came from. Any deviation in the pathways called to this bun, and they went to investigate with an intensity only rivaled by that of detectives and journalists. Cobblestones were sniffed, lampposts were licked, and anything even remotely shiny was stashed away in a small pack hoisted to the bun’s back. Posters and warnings of the danger potentially lurking around every corner were totally ignored by this red and green bun.

      They continued along the streets and alleys, their routine inspection of every nook and cranny fully underway. The whispers of the wind and dark shadows dancing through the fog are once more, completely ignored by the gluttony bun. You would never know the creature had wandered into the night district of downtown Burrowgatory as the streets were totally empty. Only darkened neon signs and colorful facades greeted the bun… save for the opening of a particular bar door.

      To say Hops was shaken by the recent events was an understatement. She barely left the Rabbit Hole, instead opting to set up a little temporary rest area in a private room of the Wonderland Casino (only outside of business hours, of course). Patrons had become few and far between, lately only one or two brave souls per night came to drink their anxieties away, and even then the atmosphere wasn’t the cheery and indulgent one it was normally. Angora’s usual veneer of smug superiority was faltering too, and she would exchange worried looks with staff when business was slow. The house can’t always win when no one plays the game, after all. Hops would leave the door open and unlocked but guarded from the inside, and check it several times a night. Once her nerves got the better of her, she would close and lock the door, calling it quits for the night.

      Tonight Hops was headed to the door slightly early as only one other customer had came and went all day. She opened it one final time to scan the street outside for any stragglers or suspicious buns, when a green and red gluttony bun turned a corner, scuttling along on the ground like a bulbug with a foot problem. She stared at them until they were uncomfortably close to her. Their head snapped up to meet her gaze, their yellow eyes peering into Hops’. A wide, toothy grin spread across their face, and they finally stood up on two feet, still substantially shorter than Hops in her doll form.

      “H-hi… are you coming into the Rabbit Hole?” Hops shifted uncomfortably, her uniform providing little respite from both the chilly wind, and the strange bun’s piercing gaze.

      “WHAT’S A RABBIT’S HOLE?!” The bun shrieked. Hops winced and pulled her ears closer to her neck.

      “It’s… this bar?”

      “OH!! I’VE NEVER HEARD OF THAT BEFORE. DO YOU HAVE ANY GOOD SOUL SCENTS IN YOUR HOLE?!?”

      The bun’s shouting would’ve normally raised some eyebrows and drawn some quizzical looks, but the barren streets offered no social consequences for them. Hops grew more fearful by the minute.

      “What’s a soul scent?”

      The bun leapt backwards and heaved their chest, mouth agape in shock. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT A SOUL SCENT IS?!!?? EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD HAS ONE!! YOU REALLY DON’T KNOW???” The bun sprang forward as quickly as they leapt back, and before Hops can react the bun was an inch from her legs, inhaling deeply. “YOU HAVE A GREAT SOUL SCENT!! NOT THE BEST ONE I’VE EVER SMELLED BUT IT’S PRETTY GOOD, YOU SHOULD BE PROUD!!” The bun crosses their arms and nods vigorously. Hops takes a few steps back and lifts one leg to rub the calf of her other, too bewildered to figure out what’s going on fully. “W-what does it smell like…?” She squeaks out. “A LOT OF DETERMINATION, MIXOLOGY, A SPLASH OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS AND A TEEEENSY BIT OF SEXUAL FRUSTRATION.” The bun said. Hops’ jaw dropped. “Is that… how…?”

      Hops shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Uh, well um… are you wanting to come in for a drink? It’s dangerous out at night now, ‘cause of the disappearances…”

      The bun thought for a moment. “I’M GOOD, NO DRINK FOR ME.” They took a big sniff of the open door to the Rabbit Hole and then rubbed their nose. “YEESH! YEAH NO, IT SMELLS LIKE… DESPERATION IN THERE.” The bun smiled once more at Hops, sharpened teeth catching the dim light of the bar. “DISAPPEARANCES? OH YEAH, THERE’S DEFINITELY LESS SMELLS THAN BEFORE. IT’S KINDA WEIRD!!” With that, the bun got back down on all fours and began to scuttle away down the street. Hops watched them walk a little ways, then shivered. The bun finds a crumpled piece of paper on the ground, and brings it back to Hops, holding it up to her. “WHAT’S THIS??!” They ask.

      Hops takes a look at the poster, one warning of the disappearances at night. A regular customer of the Rabbit Hole that hadn’t been seen for the past three weeks. She hands it back to the strange bun, who holds it upside down. “This is a missing poster of one of my regulars, have you seen them?”

      The bun smiles, shakes their head, and then eats the poster. Hops’ eyes grow wide, as the bun once more waddles off down the road. This bun’s visage would be etched into her mind for months to come, and it’d be even more helpful to catch their name in case they became a suspect in this case, which… seemed likely.

      “Well, good luck out there I guess, Mx…?”

      The bun stood up once more and smiled at Hops behind their shoulder. Their frame was silhouetted against the lamps of the street, their smile and eyes invoking an image of a horror movie poster. If a bolt of lightning and crash of thunder suddenly resounded, the scene would’ve been set for this bun themselves to be a murder suspect.

      “I’M SAL!! IT’S SHORT FOR SALMON, WHATEVER THE HELL THAT IS!!!” Sal shouted back, voice echoing off the buildings, before returning to their strange posture and walking down the street. Hops watched them leave, then shook her head. “Maybe they’re the reason why so many strange things have been happening…” Before giving it a second thought, she shuts the door of the Rabbit Hole, the open sign shutting off, and no sound emanating from the streets beyond the whispers of wind… and the occasional loud sniff.