wolfishsurvivalist | ✖ anxiety attack: 005 ✖

[A. 339 Brady Lane]

[The sound of shattering glass is loud in the kitchen, the milk bottle having slipped out of Mika's hands. Sweat forms on her brow, her pupils dilating, and the trembling starts just as she begins to scream.

The walls have gone moldy and stained, the glass fogged with filth and grime, and the milk and glass on the floor is now blood and flesh. Disembodied sounds echoing through a haunted apartment that seems to watch her. Shadows flutter at the corner of her vision, grasping hands reaching for her to drag her down and tear her apart. Something was moving, its heavy footfalls made the floorboards creak in the floor above her and its loud, wet breathing makes it sound as if it was coming for her.

The whole building--no, the town itself--knew where she was.

It was coming for her. This time it was going to kill her for good. Her screams were muffled by the heavy air, but she doesn't care, she needs to escape it somehow even if she has to fight her way out.]

LEAVE ME ALONE!

[B. Phone]

[She's sobbing uncontrollably as she grips the phone so hard the receiver is creaking, she's desperate to talk to someone even if all she can hear is static. She should have known better but she's going to leave a message anyway.]

Oh God, somebody please pick up! This apartment is full of hauntings and I can't find anybody. It's just them! They're everywhere! They can hear me breathe and they know where I am, I tried to find the others but I don't have any red tape and there's blood all over the place and I don't know where to go.

Somebody, please!

[Welcome to the crazy, Mayfield. Someone got the Special Milk.]

[C. Streets: Afternoon]

[Mika has escaped the confines of the house, a roll of duct tape in one hand and a lead pipe in the other. She's shaking like a leaf, but her grip on the pipe is white-knuckled and possibly deadly if provoked.]

[D. Park: Evening]

[Curled up beneath a tree with her knees hugged to her chest, Mika is rocking gently as she cries into her knees. Her arms are scraped up and her knees are bleeding, and there's leaves and grass in her hair and clothes. It's been a very long day and the effect of the milk is starting to wear off, but not enough for her to feel safe. Someone come rescue her?]

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We all do.

[She goes quiet after a while, in a miserable sort of way while she thinks before talking again.]

Ian...what if it isn't any better when I go home? What if it's worse?

What if they lock me up in an asylum? I'm crazy as far as they're concerned. They'll institutionalize me for sure.

I wish I had an answer for you, but the truth is- I don't. I don't know what will happen. As much as I wish we were all guaranteed a happy ending, the fact of the matter is some of us just... aren't.

I don't...I don't want to be locked up anywhere anymore. I don't want to go.

[She's reaching some strange conclusions, some of which are deeply unsettling.]

It's always the same, it doesn't matter. Even if I go home, even if they don't lock me away, it won't matter. Something else will happen, something worse. There's always something worse. I've seen them. They keep getting worse just when everything looks like it'll be fine again. It won't matter...

[ That... hits close to home. Closer than he thought it would, and he can't help but tighten his grip on her in response.

For a moment, he's tempted to ask her to come with him, back to his world. To be part of his crew or whatever, but he remembers where they're sailing, and that's somewhere no one wants to go. ]

Gods, Mika. You... you remind me of me when you talk like that.

[All she can think of is a desolate town, full of ghosts and creatures lurking in every shadow. Where nothing is safe, the food rots in your mouth, and there's no sense sleeping in the beds when the ghosts scream at all hours of the night and shake you right out of the bed.

Where blood drips from faucets and some of the walls, where water stains on the wallpaper hide ghosts who reach out and strangle anyone close enough to grab.

Where things of nightmares walk and prowl and the only sense of safety lies in lone rolls of red tape. But even those can be hard to come by.

Mika makes a soft cry, a cub long separated from its family, crying at the things that want to tear at her just at the edge of her hearing.]

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll do better next time...

[ They're the same height, but it's surprisingly easy for him for bury his face in her hair, shaking his head slightly. ] You haven't done anything wrong.

[She whimpers softly, her ears flat against her scalp as she trembles, burying her face in his shoulder.]

[ He begins stroking her hair, trying to be soothing. It's all he can think to do right now. ]

[It is surprisingly effective, quieting her whimpers and slowing how hard she's crying to a small sniffle. If he continues it might make her tail start wagging.]

[ If her tail does start wagging, he'll allow himself a small smile. He's glad something worked, anyway. He doesn't like seeing her like that. ]

You're going to be okay, Mika.

Hauuuu...

[She relaxes against him, her trembling almost completely gone as her tail begins to wag properly.]

[ He chuckles a little ]

We really have to stop meeting like this.

Y-yeah, 'm sorry.

[She sniffs, rubbing at her eyes.]

I don't...I don't know what's wrong with me.

Mayfield is what's wrong.

Tell me about it.

[ He pulls away a little, brushing some hair away from her face ]

It seems to be wearing off a little?

[Her eyes squeeze shut for a moment as she tips her head up into his hand. It seems instinctive.]

I don't know, I'm not sure.

At the very least, I'm glad you've calmed down. [ he gives a rueful smile ] I don't like seeing you like that.

I'm just glad I'm not bleeding anymore...

If anything like that happens again, please call me.

I will. I promise.

Perhaps we should get out of the middle of the street, hm?

A-auuu...um. Yeah, yeah I guess you're right.

Where to? I doubt you'd want to go home, all things considered.

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