Nighttime Frights

The world had changed seemingly overnight after the news. Oleander, who had been at the heart of a thriving community was gone, and it had left a misshapen hole in the lives of Burrowgatory. There were those who attended the church now more than ever. Begging higher deities to keep his spirit safe or perhaps to seek some kind of sign or retribution. 

The news headlines had started as a trickle most folks had ignored at the beginning of the month-long celebration. A short sighted bout of nerves or concern before they got lost at parties too caught up with levity of the special occasion. In the long run of that month however, you could see less and less of the citizens or Burrowgatory celebrating. 

More drawn faces, more whispers, more consolations. Then at a feverish pitch, the crux of this feeling of foreboding, Oleander was no more. He wasn't there to soothe their turbulent minds, speak words of wisdom, or be a physical distraction from their pain. 

The community curled in upon itself. Those who had lost loved ones despaired even more. The worry of their disappearance had turned to an even greater pain. What had happened? Will they ever come back? Those who had families clutched even tighter to them. 

There was a feeling of… a broken kind of innocence. A naivete that was innocuous at first, only realizing in hindsight how bold they all had been. How much there truly was to lose, and how easily they could have gambled away their safety with thoughtless sacrene choices. Strangers were more openly weary of one another. No longer so willing to eagerly share a drink, a bed, a life. The cards of one's true heart were held closer to their person, poker faces drawn. 

The feelings of ill will swept down the streets and made just about everyone walk a little faster. Nightclubs, bars, even the Wonderland Casino itself, the places that had been packed with visitors, were now sparsely populated. Only the bravest of succubuns taking to the streets in the hours of twilight. Houses shuttered, lamplights out, doors being fitted with locks. 

The month of celebration had turned into a sour feted remnant of what life used to be in Burrowgatory, and if things didn't change soon, there may be lasting effects on the community. There were already lasting effects beginning to take root in one resident. 

A curtain was drawn aside, a dark eye peeking out just enough to stare at the empty streets. Geist was a nervous creature to begin with, a shy air of caution and nerves tended to surround their person. They had been hesitant to leave into Burrowgatory when they had grown into adulthood, and had stayed behind an extra year to help Murmur before they had been lovingly shooed out the door. Now they were in a new place, a place they had been worried about to move to, to begin with. New revelations made anxiety spike uncomfortably in their chest. 

They let the curtain drop, pacing around and around in a dark foyer. Unlit candles sat on tables and shelves. Geist was too nervous to light them, too nervous to do required daily tasks. The only thing they had managed to do, what they had been holding off on doing, was to choose a doll form. It felt like it had been necessary now. To fend off any potential harm that may be lurking in the dark they needed to be on an equal playing field to the other residents. While they mainly still felt comfortable as a small bun, this they deemed, was too important and couldn't be put off any longer. They were still getting used to it. Their limbs felt gangly, footing unsure, they wouldn't leave the house until they knew how to better control this shape.

Something bumped against their foot in the dark, giving them a brief pause. They look down to see a dark silhouette with a soft white eye peering up at them. Geist sinks to their knees, and the small dark creature slides up their thighs to curl into their lap.

Geist takes a slow deep breath, it comes out stuttered and uneven, shaking fingers find the soft curve of the long candle-like imp in their lap and they smooth their hand over them. Petting the small creature as they numbly look around the darkened space. They twitch as they feel other imps rush to their side. The quick twitch of anxiety fades to the feeling of familiarity. A soft soothing sound, as something wraps against their wrist, and the soft flutter of wings as another silhouette nestles against their shoulder.

"You're not alone." Geist speaks to themself in a small voice. "You're not alone, you're not. Even if you haven't made many friends. . . you still have your imps." They tilt their head, repeatedly kissing the one that sat on their shoulder. It makes low creaky chirruping sounds by Geist's ear. 

"I think… I need some tea."  Geist whispers, gathering the two imps into their arms, they struggle to their feet and walk silently into the kitchen. Geist sets the imps on the counter and reaches for the stove. The blue flame underneath the kettle igniting with a snap, and weak light emanating into the room.

When coming back into the foyer. The door itself had the distinct impression that it was slowly creeping it's way up to the ceiling. Stretching up tall and thin like a yawning maw. Geist's breathing becomes shallow, fumbling with a box of matches to strike one hastily against the box's side. Matching fall over in the doll's hast, and fall to the floor. They wince and close their eyes momentarily, before lighting one single candle on the shelf. The small flame shivers before growing steady. Geist shake their hand before the flame sinks down enough on the match stick to burn their fingers. 

The candle sits inside a lantern, its soft light illuminating the room and refocusing its contents. The door is normal, the floor is unfortunately covered in match sticks, curtains are drawn, candles sit on wherever there is room for them. Cozy, safe. The door has an iron deadbolt slide across its frame, as well as a new lock, and a chair propped against the handle for good measure. 

It was safe inside. That much was certain, it was safe inside. Outside was clearly a very different story. Giest begins picking up the matchsticks lips pressed tightly together. That was the problem, what started this whole anxious spiral in the first place. Something was needed from outside these walls, and it wasn't exactly something that could wait. Geist sets the recovered matches on the table, unable to find the peace of mind to carefully replace them into the box. 

One slow deep breath after another, weary eyes wandering about the room. What should they bring with them? They began rummaging through drawers, but came up empty handed. A mental checklist started to scroll, things they needed, and were planning to get. Trying not to go out at night was all well and good until there was a problem, and then. . . being unprepared was a looming threat. For tonight, stealth was their only option, get in, buy what you need and get back. Walk with purpose, keep your eyes locked on where you need to go, don't stop. In the sense of not wanting to draw attention to themself, a lantern had to be left behind. Geist closes the glass of the lantern, making sure it is safe and secure before turning away from it. 

They pulled the chair away from the door, pulled back the deadbolt, and twisted the lock. Fingers alighting on the doorknob and time ground to a halt. The floor swam beneath their feet. 

"I'll be back," Geist whispers, the three imps huddled together on the floor, wide eyes curious and sensing something wasn't quite right. Before Geist could change their mind, they opened the door, and stepped out into the world of blue.

Night coated everything in its wake with a deep somber hue. Geist moved like a shadow in the dark, staying out of the reach of street lights. It felt both counter intuitive and logical simultaneously. The light would put a target on their back, yet if something happened, the light would be the one hope for someone to see the struggle. A cutting whispers down dark alleyways, Geists footsteps sent echoes up their legs 

Although their head is kept high and facing forward, their eyes glancing around them. All nerves strung tight.on high alert. The light in the distance, a looming sanctuary in the dark. One step inside and the tone of the world changed. Suddenly bright and open as they pushed open a glass door and stumbled into the grocery store. 

“Hello~” Rang a sleepy voice, “Need help finding anything?”

Geist's stricken face slowly changes to one of sheepishness. “Oh, I just needed to come and do some shopping.”

”It’s pretty late,” The cashier keeps a cheerful face but they too look slightly strained. Geist nods and fidgets, looking down at their hands. A weary look is silently passed between them as Geist peers up at them.

”I… haven’t been out of the house in a while.” They admitted in a murmur.

The dolls, expression changes, a flicker of understanding. “Hah, I get where you’re coming from. I’m going to start closing up early soon, not typically one to get spooked easily but. . . those news articles keep coming.”

“The articles just keep coming.” Geist nods in agreement, echoing back the words. “Oh... There should be a package for me.”

The cashier is quick to jump on the topic. “Great! What’s your order number?” 

Geist walks over to the countertop. “7132,”

The cashier smiles and nods, turning to look behind them on the shelf for the package. Fingers alighting on the different hanging tags to read the numbers. Geist was free to shop in the meantime, grabbing a few necessities off the shelves. Cans of soup, bread and butter. They could come back in the daytime and finish shopping then. They looked hungrily down the aisles, but weighted the things in their hands before reluctantly turning back to the counter. 

“This is a big package,” The cashier huffs as the brown box sits on the countertop. Geist gives them a demure look, “I’m sorry,” they whisper.

”Hm?”

”O-oh! I’m so-sorry,” Geist splutters in embarrassment, 

The cashier thumbs their nose. “Eheh, no worries! Actually I’m glad someone came in for a little while. It was starting to feel a little creepy in here.”

Geist sets their groceries onto the checkout counter looking pained. “D-do you. . . have to walk home?” 

“Oh nah,” They wave a reassuring hand, crooking a thumb they gesture upwards. “I live above the store, thank goodness!”

”That’s g-good.” Geist fumbles with their satchel of carats, counting out the money into the cashier's hand.

”Will you be alright?”  The doll at the counter tries to catch their eye, as they hand over the bag of groceries. Geist keeps their gaze elsewhere. 

“Oh, I don’t live that far away thankfully.” They give a nervous twitter, “A-and I have my package! I f-feel a lot safer now that I have it.”

The cashier nods, but they don’t look convinced. “Be safe.”

Geist blinks rapidly, a reply falling dead on their lips as they tuck the large box under one arm and hold their groceries with their free hand. 

“Goodnight,” Geist says hurriedly, before they practically sprint out the door.

It was only until they were home again, that Geist felt like they could breathe. After barricading the door, the first thing they did was set down the grocery bag on the side table. Fumbling to open the bag of bread, and wolfing down four pieces. Tears blinked into their eyes. 

You dumb bunny, why did you wait until you were so hungry you could barely think? Why didn’t you go out of the house when it was light out? You let your anxiety get the better of you to the point you almost made yourself sick. 

Geist trembles, blinking back more tears, I won’t do it again, I won’t, I’ll be smarter about it. I’ll make sure to get what I need during the daytime so I won’t find myself in this situation again. Geist looks down at the bread in their hands miserably, the feeling of pained hunger had mostly resolved, but a new feeling was churning in their gut. Their gaze travels to the large box forgotten on the floor. They set the open bread bag aside to fetch scissors from the kitchen, sitting on the floor and gliding the open blade through the tapped sides. The peel back the flaps and rummage around. 

There’s a bottle of pepper spray, an alarm that will shriek to high heaven when pulled, a pair of plastic spiked knuckles with two large hoops for the first two fingers, and. . . it takes a bit of heft to get it out of the box. It sits ominously on the floor, Geist toes it with a shoe, expression uneasy.

A sledge hammer lays on the floor, its metal head twinkles ominously in the candle light. It was, and only was bought for extreme emergencies. If it ever came that, if there ever was a point that Geist needed to make that choice and defend themselves aggressively. It was heavy, with a long handle to increase its momentum and force. If sat upright, the handle came up to Geist’s waist. It didn’t make Geist feel any better about things looking at it, but it was here, and preparations had been made if things took a turn for the worst.