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Stacked Study Buddies by Norithics
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Milkie
Milkie's Gallery (753)

Issue 2: Precipice

My Boys: Jaeh (by Jaeh)
harbington_heroes_-_2.doc
Keywords male 1108953, female 998717, canine 173116, rodent 31675, pig 8131, sci-fi 4393, corgi 4306, giraffe 2832, inkling 1379, porcine 1005, partners 2541 648, lemming 438, partners 387, suspense 217, duplex 87, quincey abram 70, harbington heroes 66, kenny baxter 63, daxton kemberge 58, laila lavinia 53, paula abram 10, walter abram 8
Quincey squealed with a gasp as she shot upright in her bed. A feeling of unnerve washed over her, seeming to trickle down her spine and rest in her gut. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the dark and her surroundings came into blurred view. She was in her room. Everything was the way it was supposed to be, her bag on the floor, her desk neatly organized… There were no signs of her struggle with the slime. But the blurry shadows of swaying tree branches outside were unsettling. She just couldn’t stay in bed.

The slime… it was all she could think about as she threw her sheets aside and turned her body so her bare feet could meet the carpet. She wiggled her toes just to remind herself that what she felt was familiar and safe. She was at home, and she had a nightmare. Even grown-ups got nightmares from time to time, she reasoned, so there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Past the acceptance came the logic, and she theorized that seeing an alien creature probably put grim thoughts into her mind’s subconscious.

Maybe a glass of milk would help put her mind at ease.

She just needed her glasses.

She reached for the edge of her desk, always keeping her glasses set there every night without fail. All she found was the bare synthetic wood. Where were her glasses? The last thing she needed was something setting off anxiety such as not being able to find her glasses. She felt around with her foot over the floor to see if they had fallen, but encountered nothing. With a frustrated sigh, she lifted herself from the bed and started looking around. Despite common desk-clutter, Quincey found nothing on the remainder of her desk, or even the chair. Finally she conceded to getting down low and looking under her bed. She didn’t think anything of it until she threw back the covers and saw something staring back at her.

It was her.

She let out a shrill shriek and scurried backward, her bare butt rubbing uncomfortably along her carpet as her over-sized shirt rode up. She could practically hear the eerie, chiming score from cheesy horror movies in her head as this copy of her stared out from beneath her bed, curled up into a ball on its side, crammed into the small space beneath her bed. It was a strange creature, with shiny, silver skin, blank, blue eyes, and a lack of any finer features. However, it was definitely supposed to be Quincey – it shared the shape of her body, even her hair in an oddly replicated way. Quincey’s screaming stopped when she realized the strange doppelganger wasn’t actively making for her. It just stared at her, wordlessly.

Rather than scream she just panted and gasped instead as if she were going to hyperventilate – which was actually a risk if she carried on in such a manner. To heck with her glasses, she needed to get out of there! Hefting herself to her feet she turned to run out the door, to get away, to find somewhere safe, and ran smack into another silver copy of herself. It stood between her and the door, just staring at her silently like the first one had. Fright seized the poor porcine girl as she stared her strangely fluid silver double in its shiny blue eyes.

She couldn’t take anymore, she just couldn’t.

She fainted. Then she woke in her bed once more.

She snorted as she shot up from her pillow to look around. No copies in sight. She checked for her glasses and found them on the desk where they ought to be, so she put them on before scrambling out of bed. Throwing up the sheets that hung over the side of her mattress, she checked again for her copy. It was gone. The feeling that came over her wasn’t exactly relief, but she tipped back until her wide bottom sat on the floor where she hunched and let out a deep sigh. She hadn’t been scared of monsters under the bed since she was five years old.

She waited for something to happen, for anything to happen, but everything remained still. It wasn’t like a typical horror scene, so there wasn’t even rain battering against her window, no thunder to startle her, not even a quiet breeze to rustle the leaves outside. It was dead quiet and calm; a stark contrast to how fast her heart was beating. Maybe now, she thought, that her dream-inside-a-dream was over, she should get that milk she wanted in her dream… as long as no silver clones of her were somehow crammed into the fridge.

As ridiculous as the thought was it did nothing to calm her. She left her room with the utmost uncertainty to make her way to the kitchen, the door creaking shut behind her as she departed.

-

--

-

“Gah!”

Kenny’s shoulders hit the ground hard, his legs flopped down second. He cringed with the force of the impact, and opened his eyes to see Daxton standing over him with an outstretched hand. The corgi helped Kenny up and brushed off his back for him. The two of them had been at it most of the lunch hour, taking each other down outside in what spare time they could afford between classes. It was a practice they had become rather familiar with, and they tried to get time in to do so as often as possible. What they practiced was something called Aikido.

“I’m pretty sure you actually did it that time,” Kenny grunted.

“Yeah, you hit pretty hard. Wanna try it again?” Daxton asked.

“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt,” Kenny grinned, “Not really anyway.”

They immediately set up to try again. It was such an odd art, especially to anyone who really fancied fighting. Daxton stood with his legs straight and spread front to back, but his body angled towards Kenny. His arms weren’t raised in typical fists, but poised at the ready to act nevertheless without intent to strike. What happened when Kenny stepped in to strike looked like Daxton stepped backward, pulled him, spun him around, and then knocked the smaller boy down with a full arm across his chest. Kenny moved with the fall to roll and find his footing again and be up on his feet quickly.

“Nice,” Kenny smirked as he brushed the errant grass off his t-shirt, “Feel like a big man now pushing around someone smaller than you?”

“Nah, but I feel pretty good tossing around someone older than me,” Daxton smirked, approaching Kenny to try and grab him and pull him in close. Instead Kenny stepped in, used his arm to pull Daxton’s gripping hand out far to the side, tucked his side in against his friend’s front, and with a wide wave of his arm simply guided the larger boy over the back of his hips. The pup tumbled over and hit the ground on Kenny’s opposing side. The act was swift and fluid.

Kenny laughed, “Koshi nage, bitch.”

“Oh God, ow...!” Daxton grunted, holding his abdomen, “Ah, fuck…”

Kenny took pause. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, quickly moving to Daxton’s side and helping him up.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay…” Daxton sighed… but then he quickly leaned in and hoisted Kenny up over his shoulder. The rodent was easily lifted, tossed over Daxton’s shoulder, and carried around with little he could do but kick his feet and fuss and curse. Daxton laughed, keeping a good hold on Kenny while smacking the boy’s rear with his other hand, making him squeak and yelp each time. “Rawr, I am the biggest!” Daxton announced as he marched triumphantly with Kenny over his shoulder.

“Put me down you jackass!” Kenny shouted and kicked. His shoes flung dirt all around. “Come on!”

“Nope. Not until you say ‘Daxton is the best, hottest guy in school,’” Daxton said, bouncing Kenny on his shoulder, “And that you love me.”

“Fuck that!” Kenny squeaked, twisting his body to reach up behind him and grab Daxton’s hat. He pulled it off the corgi’s head, and immediately Daxton seemed to falter and tumble backwards on top of Kenny. It was a hard impact, but once on the ground the boys began to wrestle, climbing all over one another and trying to get one another in headlocks.

Laila shook her head as she watched from the sidelines, she and Quincey seated next to a large tree to stay in the shade and keep comfortable. “Ya know I don’t think that’s Ehh-Kee-Doo, boys!” She shouted out at them, but they didn’t seem to hear her. Either that or they didn’t listen as they kept trying to get a good hold on one another. Rather than pay the boys any mind, Laila instead turned her attention to something that had been on her mind since the day began. She turned her attention to Quincey, who didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything at all. The pig was spaced out. Laila snapped her fingers next to the girl’s ear to shake her from the stupor.

Quincey jumped at the sudden sound, her floppy ears lifting a bit. “H-Huh, what?”

“Somethin’ the matter, piglet?” She asked, “You’ve been quiet all day.”

Quincey blinked her eyes a few times, and then removed her glasses to wipe them on her sweater. “How is that any different than usual?” She asked.

Laila rolled her eyes. “Alright then, let me clarify: ya haven’t touched your cinnamon roll,” She said, gesturing between them the cinnamon-swirled pastry that remained sealed in wrapping.

“O-Oh, that’s no big deal,” Quincey said as she looked at the treat, “I’m going to.”

“Daxton made it,” Laila pressed.

Quincey nodded, “I know.”

Laila let out a little sigh, “So ya would’ve inhaled it ages ago, sweetie. Somethin’ is on your mind. You know you can’t lie to me.”

Laila was so blunt, but not like Kenny. Rather than hit someone with the crushing force of a hammer, Laila’s straight-forward attitude was more akin to laser-like precision. “I’ve just been having these nightmares… Remember when we saw that… thing on Thursday? I’ve been having bad dreams ever since,” She explained.

Laila frowned, “Every night?”

“Yeah, on Friday, all weekend, even last night…” Quincey nodded, looking Laila in the eyes, “They’re really weird.”

Quincey squeaked when Laila’s arms suddenly embraced her, pulling her head in against the giraffe’s chest. Laila was wearing a black double-breasted coat that day, so the buttons on it rubbed coldly into Quincey’s skin in contrast to the warmth Laila exuded. Still, there was such solace in against Laila’s bosom that Quincey couldn’t help but cuddle in.

“My poor little ham-hog,” Laila cooed as she stroked her friend’s hair, “That thing spooked all of us.”

Quincey let out a sigh, rubbing her face against Laila’s chest for comfort before simply resting there. She had to adjust her glasses once more, but she happily used the giraffe as a cushion and plucked at Laila’s pleated, plaid skirt with gentle, idle tugs. “I’ll be okay,” She said, “Dreams are simply random images projected into your sub-conscious as your mind arranges and stores your memories. Eventually they’ll just go away… right?” Quincey attempted to rationalize her fears, but uncertainty still reigned. She’d never been plagued by night terrors to such an extent before.

“I reckon if anyone can think their way outta bad dreams, it’d be you sweetie,” Laila smiled, wrapping her arms around Quincey’s body, “But ya know if you ever need something, I’ll come-a-runnin’.”

“I know… Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” The pig girl gave an affirmative nod.

“Good!” Laila reached down and picked up Quincey’s cinnamon roll and proceeded to unwrap it. Once the icing-slathered, sticky treat was in hand, she pushed it towards Quincey’s mouth, and the distraught girl rather happily took a bite. Laila took a bite of her own, before passing the roll down again so Quincey could take another bite, the girls continuing to go back-and-forth like that. “You need me to do anything for ya, you just call Mamma Laila,” The giraffe spoke behind a mouthful.

“Mmkay,” Quincey beamed.

The two of them finished their snack, and Quincey wiped her fingers off on her denim jeans before standing. It was nearly time to get back to class, and she was feeling better about her restless days. Laila took her time so she could get an added treat of watching her friend’s black denim-clenched derrière roll with each step she made before getting up herself and following along. They passed by Daxton and Kenny, who had tuckered themselves out during their scuffle and simply lay on the ground, Kenny resting against Daxton’s chest. Seeing the girls go, Kenny gave Daxton a light smack on the stomach.

“I won,” He said simply, before getting up and leaving to head inside. He took Daxton’s hat with him.

“Hey, wait!” Daxton barked.

Despite not being able to see, he could hear his friends moving towards the school by the sounds of their footsteps rustling the autumn leaves. He took off after them, yelling after Kenny who was far from malicious enough to play keep-away for too long. In the end, it seemed like things were returning to normal. The presence of alien creatures was jarring, and the curfew was inconvenient, but at the end of the day it seemed as if little could sway the regular way of life. Quincey was put at ease just knowing that despite her vivid nightmares, her pack was the same as always. They seemed to walk so close to her, to support her without saying a word. They were a blanket she couldn’t go without.

The day continued as normal for her, and she planned to go home, have her dinner, do her homework, and hopefully have a good night’s rest. When the final class ended for the day, she had one last stop before she could leave: the bathroom. Nature called, and she didn’t think she could hold it the entire train ride home – especially if Daxton got pinchy.

She ducked into one of the bathrooms while her friends waited, and did her business as usual. Being such a stickler for proper hygiene, she made certain to wash her hands thoroughly before she left. She did so, as always, though when she looked up from the sink and into the mirror, something caught her eye. Her reflection looked back at her of course with the same slight squint of curiosity that she had. To test if she saw what she thought she saw, she leaned to the side a little bit, and as she suspected it looked like her reflection left something of an after-image. Mirrors could do that if they had a particular edge or crease, she knew… but this was simply a flat, bathroom mirror.

As if to answer her suspicion, the image of herself behind her reflection leaned out from behind her and made a little face.

“Ah!” She turned around in a flash, just as one of the toilets flushed and a black-furred, lop-eared rabbit stepped out of a stall to see her staring at the far wall as if she’d seen a ghost. He gave her the oddest of looks.

“… Are you okay?” He asked, his indigo pigtails bobbing with the slight cant of his head.

“O… Oh…” Quincey stopped trying to look for her clone and turned her attention to the broad-hipped bunny boy, “Oh, yes, I’m fine.”

She smiled and sort of laughed.

With a shrug, the boy left the bathroom and Quincey turned her attention back to the mirror. What she saw caught her breath in her throat.

It was those same strange duplicates of her – two silver-looking, blue-eyed creatures with her shape. In the light they seemed to shine with a blue tint, something she never noticed in her dreams before. They stood at either side of her, just behind her, but when she looked they weren’t actually with her. They were simply in the mirror, which meant she was safe, but it was still unnerving to even see them. She rubbed her eyes, but they remained when she peered out again. They leaned in to either side of her, parted their lips to reveal their strange blue mouths that looked almost drawn on, and spoke in a strange voice – like her own, but mixed with another.

“Bring us to Locksmouth.”

She watched then as they seemed to melt into ink-like swirls that retreated onto her body and… disappeared inside of her. She finally let out the breath she was holding and stepped back away from the mirror, clasping her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming as panic welled up from the pit of her gut. Was she going crazy? Why? Why was this happening? Just when she thought she had found some comfort, it seemed the demons in her head were all too ready to crush it. She had stepped back far enough to bump into the stalls, accidentally pushing one of the doors in to slam it and startle her out of her shock.

“Oh my God…” She whimpered, “What’s wrong with me?”

“You okay in there sweetie?” Laila called into the bathroom after hearing one of the doors slam.

Quincey refrained from crying and instead called back for her friend, “Laila?”

The giraffe’s face peeked around the corner into the bathroom. “Sugar-plump?”

“Could… Could you stay with me at my house tonight?”

-

--

-

“So she’s been having dreams, huh?”

Daxton sat in a small circle on the blue-carpeted floor in Quincey’s room. Kenny and Laila were there too, the lot of them dressed in nothing more than their understickers. As per Quincey’s request, Laila agreed to spend the night with the pig but felt it was important to bring the rest of the pack along too. Quincey was so worried that Laila thought she needed the assurance that her pack was there for her. They went over right after school, did homework together with Quincey, and spent the rest of the day with her.

“Nightmares, about aliens,” Laila nodded, seated on her knees and still towering over the boys a fair bit. As she fussed, she habitually rubbed her chest, pressing her fingers against the red sheriff’s star stickers that kept her the least bit decent.

“That sucks,” Kenny mumbled against the pillow he hugged to his chest, “Like, really sucks. I used to have nightmares all the time.”

Daxton shook his head. “Quincey used to be scared of the dark… But that was back when she was four,” He said, “It’s no different now. We just have to be here for her.”

“I’ll sleep here every darn night if I gotta,” Laila pounded a fist into her hand, causing a bit of jiggle throughout her body.

“Yeah, me too,” Kenny affirmed with a nod.

Laila grinned, “Someone’s gotta make sure Daxton doesn’t keep her up all night.”

“Girl needs her sleep,” Kenny nodded again thoughtfully.

Daxton just held his hands up in a sort of shrug and said, “Guys, come on. Really.”

Quincey’s bedroom door clicked as it opened and silence befell the group as they turned their attention to the girl. She’d just finished getting ready for bed, dressed in her overly-long night shirt. “… So I guess you know why you’re here then?” She asked.

Daxton was the first to stand. “Yeah,” He said as he approached her and took her into his arms. She fell into Daxton’s body and hugged him tightly, feelings of shame and embarrassment washing over her. She began to cry. She didn’t want to do this to them, she didn’t want to suffer as she had, but when she saw the strange alien creatures when she was awake, she knew she needed them. They were so ready to help her, but she still felt awful for bringing them with her on what felt like the beginnings of a terrible journey.

“Sweetie, you know we’d always be there for you,” Laila said as she leaned in from aside Quincey and hugged her as well. Kenny took up the rear, pressing in from behind the girl and hugging her around her middle. “Yeah,” The lemming added, “Don’t worry. They go away.”

Quincey sniffled, which made her snort. She wiped her tears away and removed her glasses so that she might settle into bed. “Thank you,” She smiled, “Let’s go to sleep.”

They gathered once more on the bed. It was hardly made for four people, it may have just barely fit two, but they snuggled in tightly together and made it work. Kenny, with his small frame, lay at Quincy’s back. He draped an arm over her waist and tucked another under his head. Laila took a book-end position behind Kenny, her tall body acting as barrier that both kept them on the bed and closed them off from a majority of the room. Daxton rested in front of Quincey, rubbing noses with her and resting a hand over hers. He couldn’t see her, but he smiled all the same, his messy blonde mop covering most of his eyes… Seeing his sweet face was much better than looking out the window. Surrounded by her pack, Quincey couldn’t have been safer, warmer, or more comfortable.

Laila had a form so imposing, but was sweet as honey. She supported not only Quincey in her need, but the rest of her pack too. She was kindness incarnate, snuggled up against Kenny. The lemming was much smaller, and very cute, but wore his heart on his sleeve. He said what he meant, and meant what he said. He was passion given form. Quincey knew Daxton to be a determined boy who never said “can’t” and was always ready to set an example, and to stand up for others. He was courage, of that Quincey was sure. Then, there was her.

Compared to the others, Quincey wasn’t sure what she was. She was their tutor at times and a wealth of pre-splice information… but what else? She always thought she was the voice of reason, of sound logic… But with events unfolding as they were, she was afraid she could lose her place amongst them. In that moment, she was the one that needed protection. She needed the kindness, passion and courage they could provide, but she felt she gave nothing in return – at least, nothing but good test scores.

Their presence was a blessing. She prayed, as she rarely did, that she’d never, ever lose it.

Eventually, sleep took her. She closed her heavy eyes and rested, falling into slumber in the security of her pack.

When she opened her eyes, she was in the school bathroom.

“I’m dreaming,” She said to herself right away, “I’m asleep.”

Her voice echoed off the walls like it would in real life. All was quiet. It seemed as if she was the only soul there. The bathroom held an eerie sort of calm, but perhaps it was just her feelings that made it seem that way. She spent a lot of time in bathrooms just like that one, with clean, white walls, stalls with blue-light toilets, polished floors, and clean sinks. She used to run to the bathrooms whenever she got upset. As she stepped through and checked each and every stall, she could remember times where she had locked herself in one just to cry. She had been no stranger to bullies, and even in an era where violence and depression were scarce, it seemed someone would find a way.

She remembered a boy; his name was Jimmy Ret. He was a terrible Rottweiler, a right vicious puppy. He used to follow her around every waking moment, telling her how fat she was and how ugly she was, how useless she was… it got so bad so many times, she’d retreat into the bathroom and close herself up in a stall, shielding herself from the boy so he’d never see her cry. Of course he knew she was, but he’d eventually leave when Quincey stayed holed up for long enough. After that, it was up to her friends to come and get her.

When she reached the last stall, she stepped inside and sat down on the toilet. It was a strange place to reminisce, but appropriate to her. At first it was just Daxton, before they met Kenny, and lastly Laila. But each of them had their time standing outside the stalls and trying to convince her to come out. Even then she was a burden on them. It seemed like she was always making them help her. Everyone told her to stand up to her bullies and face her fears. She was smart, they said, she could handle herself. But she was always scared. Just like her current situation, she was afraid to face it alone.

She remembered the day when Daxton finally cleaned Jimmy’s clock. It felt so rewarding to see her bully get what he deserved. But afterward, Daxton told her never to make him do that again. It filled her with mixed feelings that came back to her in her dream. Daxton – no, her entire pack – they expected more from her, didn’t they? And yet where was she? Looking up, she saw the same familiar stall walls. Maybe Jimmy was right – maybe she was useless.

She stood and exited the stall where she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Ugh, the mirror. Last time she looked into it, she saw things. They scared her so bad that she dragged her whole pack into spending the night at her house. She just couldn’t face it alone. That made her mad, but all she could see was her puffed-up angry face with tears in her eyes. She didn’t even look like someone who could handle herself. She tried to huff, but her deep breath didn’t flare her nostrils – instead it got caught in her nose as it ran, she wanted to cry so badly.

“You’re no Hercules,” She said, “No Beowulf or Achilles. You sure have one heck of a heel though.”

She twisted her body to look at her heel – an idle gesture, really. When she did, she saw the familiar silver sight of her own leg. She turned around in a flash to see herself staring back, with strange blue eyes and liquid silver skin. Like in her first dream, her strange duplicate said nothing. She went on the offensive instead. Her pack was with her when she woke… They were protecting her.

“Who are you?!”

She yelled at the strange creature, and it simply blinked its blue eyes a few times.

“WHO?!”

She yelled again. Her response came slowly, but the voice that spoke was familiar too – the same from before, the dual-layered strangeness that blended her voice with another’s.

“We are Duplex,” It said, “Take us to Locksmouth.”

“Duplex? Your name is Duplex?” Quincey repeated. It was strange that the creature of her nightmares was named after a housing formation around in pre-splice times when people had to cram together in singular buildings due to population outweighing residential area. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever heard that term, so calling itself Duplex was odd to her.

“Correct, human,” Duplex said, “We are Duplex. Take us to Locksmouth.”

Quincey winced somewhat. “No!” She shouted back, “You’re just my imagination!”

She was finally doing it. She was trying to confront her fears.

Though her fears weren’t happy with that.

“TAKE US TO LOCKSMOUTH, HUMAN,” Duplex shouted, grabbing hold of Quincey by her arms and pressing in close, “WE MUST GO NOW!”

“NO!” Quincey shoved back at the creature, breaking free from its grip. Before she could dart away however, she was grabbed hold of once more, this time from behind. She tried to turn her head and see what was happening, and saw in the reflection of the long mirror that the second silver copy of her was reaching out from inside the glass. She panicked immediately, screaming and thrashing as Duplex helped its strange identical twin from within the mirror lift her up and draw her back. When her body struck the mirror, it rippled like water, and accepted her. She was pulled inside.

The motions were a blur, her mind a haze as she was pulled from the familiar bathroom to surroundings she could only describe as being… nothing. She stood in an empty void with nothing but a glass window looking out into what used to be the bathroom in her dreams. Duplex stood out there with its double, the two of them looking in on her as if she were a caged animal. In her fury, she banged against the window, and they watched as she smacked against the mirror like a useless reflection. She was trapped. “Let me out!” She cried, breaking into tears, “LET ME OUT!”

She was ignored. Duplex and its double turned their backs to her and stepped towards one of the bathroom stalls. She followed them, planting her hands against the mirror and shoving as she strafed sideways to keep her eyes on them, only to watch them as they flushed the toilet, and seemed to get swept up in a sort of vortex as a result. They flew through the air as strange, inky swirls, like a silver and blue cyclone that swirled down the toilet as it flushed, disappearing from sight. Quincey couldn’t believe what she’d seen – it was like a cartoon! But realizing she was now trapped and alone, she pounded her hands against the glass once more.

“Wait, please! Help!” She shouted, “HELP ME! Somebody please! Someone! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!”

Helplessness overtook her, and she started to sob. Resting her head against the glass, she pressed against it, not knowing where she was or how she got there, or why she simply wasn’t waking up. It was the most terrifying part of the dream, being locked away inside a mirror, alone and frightened… she should have snapped awake! She gasped on her breath, pounding her fist against the cold, unforgiving window a few more times before simply hanging her head. No one was coming. No one could help.

“Please, make it stop… Make it stop… I can’t take any more…” She whimpered between gasping sobs of salty tears.

She struggled to compose herself. Her pack would help her, she just knew it. Surely they’d wake her up! She lifted her head in hope, but what she saw out of the glass pane wasn’t the bathroom from before. It was as if she were watching the world through someone else’s eyes. They awoke in the night, blinking into focus before moving a bit and lifting their pink-fleshed hand. They twisted and turned the appendage as silver liquid swirled around it, covering it entirely. Quincey recognized the colour. Was she looking through Duplex’s eyes? The creature curled its fingers one at a time in its vision, then lowered its hand again to move.

She watched from her first-person view as it sat up and looked around. Duplex had made its way into her room, but how? It seemed to look around, carefully studying the surroundings that she knew so well. It eyed the table of elements she had hanging on her wall, and momentarily focused on her closet that she’d left open. Its attention seemed to snap however, and Quincey watched as it looked straight at Kenny, who stared back at it in tired, morbid confusion.

Oh no.

Oh no.

“Quinn…?” Kenny’s sleepy, cute voice rung in the pig’s ears.

Oh god, please, no.

“We are Duplex.”

Quincey’s eyes felt dry, she had been staring at the scene in horror for so long. But she suddenly snapped into action as she slammed her clenched fists on the glass again as frantically and hard as she possibly could. “Hnnnnaaaagghhh!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, fighting against a barrier that kept her from herself, deep within what was now an alien creature – Duplex. After some struggle, she found herself practically choking on her sobs as she laid her weight against the glass helplessly, her tears running down her face and falling into the void.

“Please don’t…”

-

--

-

“W… What the fuck?!”

Kenny sat up quickly, only to be shoved by Duplex. He toppled over Laila and hit the floor, which startled the giraffe awake.

“What in the devil?!” She gasped, scrambling out of bed and away from the silver-skinned, blue-eyed Duplex. She nearly tripped over Kenny as he swiftly got back to his feet, and Daxton had tumbled off the other side of the bed in a rude awakening. Duplex lunged off the foot of the bed to stand, taking a moment to assess its situation.

“What’s going on?!” Daxton barked, “What’s happening?!”

“Quincey, baby-doll?” Laila tried taking a step forward, reaching out towards her dear friend. Rather than be accepting, Duplex lashed out, arms outstretched towards the giraffe, but stopping short as Kenny intercepted and pushed hard against Quincey’s bulk to try and hold her back, hugging her around the waist.

Kenny grunted. Quincey was always heavy, but she didn’t have the fortitude she was currently exhibiting. It was like the little lemming was trying to hold back a sumo wrestler, and his efforts to plant his feet and keep her from moving had him sliding across the carpet. “H-Hold on a second Quinn! What’re you doing?!” He strained his voice, but the only answer he got was a silver fist jammed into the back of his neck. Pain shot through his nervous system in a flash, and his legs buckled, but he continued to hold her firmly as he pushed back up with his feet.

Daxton had scrambled to find his STOP, and upon activating it the scene that appeared before his eyes was surreal. He had to act fast though, and took little time to step up onto the bed and over it, landing behind Duplex and attempting to grab it from behind. The silver pig’s back seemed to distort however, and before Daxton could get a hold of his friend, he was staring at… her face? He did a double-take to determine if what he was seeing was real, but the silver Quincey look-alike seemed to split from the waist, forming a second, identical torso and all the limbs attached from behind itself, with strands of silver goop connecting them at some places. Daxton froze, and his hesitation opened him up.

The conjoined twin grabbed hold of his neck with both hands, squeezing hard to cut off his air. The corgi choked, sputtering a gasp for air and clawing at the hands that now strangled him.

“Quincey, stop!” Laila shouted, trying to step in. Try as she might, she couldn’t put her heart into striking Quincey, though a choice slap to the face got through to no effect. For a moment, the creature simply stared back at her before returning with a back-hand of its own that caused her to stumble.

The door to the bedroom flew open, Quincey’s red-headed mother, Paula Abram, and portly, dark-haired father, Walter Abram, discovering the scene to their great shock. “What’s going on in here?!” Walter bellowed.

Four blue eyes met Quincey’s parents with frightened urgency. In a panic, Duplex threw Daxton to the floor and wrenched itself free of Kenny’s persistent grasp so it could get a gauge on the situation, its second torso sinking back into its body.

“Oh my goodness, Quincey!” Paula shrieked, “W-Walter, call the police! Now!”

As Walter stumbled out of the doorway frantically, Kenny was up to try his luck again. “I dunno what you are, but get off of Quinn!” He shouted, charging the strange alien creature again, “Let her go!”

Duplex took a swing that Kenny ducked around quickly, twisting his body out of the way to grab hold of the creature’s arm and attempt to at least restrain it, but upon wrenching its arm back; it renewed its conjoined assault. Pushing from its back again its second torso struck at Kenny’s gut, forcing him to step back. He wasn’t sure when it turned around – or if it did at all. It seemed to fluidly rotate itself so that its whole form was facing him. Kenny was grabbed under his arms and lifted, while the conjoined twin now pushing out from the front struck him in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs before shoving him across the room. Kenny slammed his back off of the wall, disheveling a group picture they’d taken two years prior and making it fall and shatter.

“What the hell are you…?” Kenny coughed as the creature once again regained a regular Quincey shape. It was clearly able to sprout a copy from its gelatinous form and shift both freely amongst itself… the logic behind such an act was boggling! One thing was certain however: it was a definite advantage.

-

--

-

Quincey felt nauseous as she watched the scene unfold as best she could. She couldn’t follow as easily from her inside view, but watching her body move beyond her control, hurting her friends, it made her sick. Her pleas went unheard, and she felt more weak and helpless by the second. Duplex had nearly strangled Daxton, and Kenny couldn’t seem to stop it, and the police were coming? Everything was spiraling into chaos and all she could do was watch from within as Duplex orchestrated all of it.

It seemed Duplex was done fighting however. It ran, hurrying for the door where Quincey watched her mother try to block it. She stood no chance. In her fright, the older pig obviously couldn’t stand her ground and was forced out of the doorway. She tried to stop Quincey’s body regardless however, continuously getting in the way as Duplex seemed to make its way for the stairs in a rush. Finally Paula stood between Quincey’s body and the stairs, and Quincey let out a terrified gasp as she watched Duplex simply shove her mother backwards, causing the older woman to tumble down the steps.

“Stop it!” She shouted, “Stop! Stop!”

“Quincey!” She heard Daxton’s voice, and Duplex whipped around to face her friends as they came rushing out of her bedroom.

“Daxton!” She shouted back, no matter how useless it was to do so.

Daxton, Kenny and Laila all rushed Duplex, and it seemed they simply shoved it backwards until it hit a wall. They pinned it with all their weight, and didn’t let up no matter how the strange being tried to struggle or fight back. They resisted a flurry of frantic punches and slaps as Duplex struggled, but held on tight. “Quincey you gotta fight it!” Daxton growled, “Come on, Quincey!”

“B-But I can’t…!” Quincey protested, pounding the glass some more, “I can’t break it!”

“Come on Quinn!” Kenny squeaked, “Do it!”

“You can do it sweetie!” Laila grunted, “Put your weight into it! Shake that thing!”

It may have been her mind playing tricks, but it was as if they could hear her – a tiny voice behind a monster. Could she really fight it? Did it work like that? At this point, it was sink or swim. Duplex had hurt her pack, her mother, and who knew what else it would do if she let it run amok in her body? She had to fight back somehow. She didn’t have a choice!

She struck against the window with her fists a few more times, to no avail. She just couldn’t punch hard enough, it seemed… So she took Laila’s advice instead. Rearing back, she got a run at it, slamming her shoulder into the window as hard as she possibly could. Nothing happened. She tried again, stepping back and throwing her body in to smash her shoulder and arm against the window once more. Nothing happened again. A panic welled up from inside her then, spurring her on to continuously slam herself against her prison. She became more erratic by the second, thrusting herself with no regard for her body – if it was a dream anyway, she should have been fine.

“Gngh!”

“Nnnmh!”

“GRAH!”

Again and again she struck the glass with weighty thuds and thunderous slams. She cared nothing for the impossibility of breaking out of her own body, how illogical the whole situation was, or the danger of tampering with an alien creature… all of it meant nothing. Her focus was to batter herself against that glass until something happened. Despite being in a dream, it all felt very real. Her shoulder burned with intense pain, the bone feeling bruised, maybe even cracked. Her face had slammed into the glass more than once, bending her glasses, and then shattering them. Still, she continued, merciless in her desperation.

Then she was rewarded. A crack split the window, light shined through.

She paused, looked up, and felt hope. Twisting her body, she slammed her other side into the glass over and over again.

Crack!

Crack!

CRACK!

“RRRRAGH!!”

The window shattered, a blinding light shining in the opening as Quincey passed through and disappeared.

-

--

-

With one lucky strike, Duplex knocked the wind out of Laila, forcing the giraffe to loosen her grip as she tried to breathe. With that moment of weakness the inky silver monster thrashed its body free, able to easily swipe a limb to knock Kenny’s small, light frame aside. With almost full mobility, it put all its strength into shoving Daxton away, who fell to the floor despite his desperate struggle with the alien creature. Tired, panting, and beaten, the kids watched helplessly as Quincey’s body continued to move against her will. Their minds were exhausting just trying to fathom how what they were seeing could be real, and their bodies were beyond tired just trying to contain it.

“This is… T-This…” Kenny was at a loss for words.

“How do we know that’s even Quincey?” Laila wheezed, “We sure it don’t just look like her?”

“Hold up a sec…!” Daxton barked, “Look!”

Duplex, rather than simply bolt like it intended, seemed to struggle. Its body thrashed seemingly against itself, the silver-skinned monster grunting and practically growling as its hands clawed at its own pudgy form. It stumbled away from the stairs, swaying in its gait, its body shuddering… then seeming to ripple. As if to loosen from its host, the inky silver creature began to lose its own solid form, liquefying in a gross display of drooling, dripping silver gunk from its entire body. Something was happening, and even if they couldn’t figure out what it was, it filled the kids with some hope.

“Stop! S-Stop it!” Duplex’s strange multi-layered voice bellowed from its form.

“NO!” It seemed to argue with itself, though the under-tones of Quincey’s high-pitched squeals dominated the expelled sound.

Daxton, Laila and Kenny all let out mortified gasps as Duplex’s hands suddenly grabbed its own face so hard that its fingers buried into its pudding-like skin. It pulled and wrenched desperately, its thrashing becoming all the more violent. It began to throw its body around, slamming itself into walls, bashing against the banister, and jamming its back up against the corner presented by the opening of the hallway made by the stairs. For all its struggling, it continued to pull on its own skin before it parted, splitting at a seam that never existed along its nose; and from within, a familiar pink snout was revealed. With a tendril-like grasp, Duplex attempted to seal itself across Quincey’s face, but the little piggy’s persistent yanking powered through, splitting Duplex’s covering until her face was revealed.

It was a strange and terrifying scene. Quincey had more or less tore at Duplex’s face until it split apart to reveal her own, and in order to stop her the strange creature seemed to split into two torsos once again. Sandwiching Quincey between the two bodies, the alien creature used its two new hands created from the split to try and grab at Quincey’s face, desperately attempting to subdue her while it seemed she controlled their far left and right arms to free herself – she had managed to peel Duplex away enough that she could breathe, freeing her chest a slight bit. She stood struggling against the monster with her back to the stairs, facing her friends.

“Quincey!” Daxton shouted, leaping to his feet.

“D-Dax… ton…!” Quincey’s face was red, her teeth grit and her eyes clenched shut. She was exerting herself more than ever, “H… Help!”

“W… What do we do…?” Laila breathed, “What do we do?!”

Quincey sputtered, almost smiling despite her situation. “It controls a human host…!” She gasped, “So… t… take me out!”

What?” Kenny’s eyes widened in shock.

“Hit me!” Quincey squealed.

Quincey’s frantic instruction made their racing hearts sink into their churning stomachs. Not a single member of her pack could claim they didn’t feel something like a cold sweat wash over them when they were told by the desperate pig to strike her down – but they were long past thinking it was unreal, or a nightmare they’d soon wake from. But no matter how real the danger was, their bodies wouldn’t move. It was their turn to be scared, their turn to look to Quincey for some other kind of answer, some alternative solution that wouldn’t throw them any deeper into the rabbit hole… But they received no counsel or comfort, and there was no easy way out. The longer they hesitated, the more Quincey had to fight against Duplex to retain any sense of self.

Daxton’s fingers twitched. He felt a shudder run all up and down his spine, and his call to action was answered with a gasping breath. He clenched a fist and pressed forwards against every pack instinct he had.

“Quincey, come on…!” His lip trembled as he reached out and touched her face within the writhing silver mass, “We can’t!”

Quincey turned her head. It was more of a thrashing motion but she tore herself away from Daxton’s touch. Tears started to run down her face in a cascade as she lost her composure. “Daxton Kemberge…” She panted, her voice shaking.

“NEVER SAY THAT YOU CAN’T!”

Quincey shouted at the top of her lungs right in Daxton’s face. The boy was taken aback so fiercely that he almost stumbled, and he felt his face go pale. Her words sat with him for a moment, but only a moment. He took a deep breath that was cut off by a sobbing cough. He nodded, and reached up to tear his hat off his head and throw it to the ground. Tears streamed down his face from beneath his sloppy blonde mop of hair that covered his eyes. At least then he couldn’t see Quincey. At least then he couldn’t see what he was about to do.

Tightening his fist, he brought it back. He swallowed any inhibitions he may have had at its apex, and then sent it crashing forwards into Quincey’s face.

Quincey didn’t even feel the pain, but her body suffered some form of inertia she hadn’t expected as she fell backwards. Duplex’s form tried to hold on to her bulk like a safety net, but she tore through it like cheap plastic and her body fell onto the steps to begin its tumble downwards. Her world spun, marred with silver splatters as Duplex, helpless in the situation, was pulled along with her. She could feel her body being battered against the steps while Duplex was tossed and whipped around as she rolled. The whole thing seemed to take so long, the world slowing down around her so she could feel a sense of comfort as her body hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

She felt a sense of freedom. Whatever Duplex had suffered during the fall seemed to release its grip on her. She felt like she could breathe, if just barely, but she couldn’t move. Consciousness was slipping from her and her eyes wouldn’t open, but she knew she could hear the voices of her friends as they rushed to her side to check if she was fine. Maybe she wasn’t. She knew in her mind that such a violent fall down a flight of stairs could result in any number of bone fractures, even skull fractures… brain damage, maybe, or just twists and sprains. But even if any of that happened, she felt more at ease, even if she wasn’t sure whether her nose was clogged with mucus from crying or blood. If nothing else, she passed out with a little smile on her face.

She was victorious.

“Oh my god, Quincey!” Laila had indeed rushed down the stairs to check on her friend. Duplex had somehow faded from sight during the fall. Where it went, she didn’t know, but all Laila could see was her friend unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. “Piglet, can you hear me?! Quincey!”

“Mrs. Abram? Mrs. Abram!” Kenny had nearly tripped down the stairs to see to both of them, and was trying to tend to Quincey’s mother who had taken a fall herself.

She answered as Kenny helped her sit up against the wall, “I’m fine… is my baby alright?”

All the while Daxton was shaking. At the top of the stairs he’d gripped the banister tightly to avoid taking the plunge with Quincey. With his nerves rattled he pawed the railing to lower his body, feeling along the floor to determine where the first step was. His hand slipped off the step, and he fell with a desperate grasp to one of the railings’ many poles so he wouldn’t simply fall. His legs dragged behind him as if they’d turned to jelly. He’d practically surrendered himself to just lying on the floor, shoulder jammed against the banister.

He gripped his hair with his free hand and tugged on it as he struggled - and failed - to keep from sobbing.

What happened?

Why couldn’t he stop it?

And how did it come to that?

The worst part of it all was that he couldn’t even see if Quincey was okay.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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by Milkie
Issue 1: Prelude
Issue 3: Ultimatum
How do you deal with your demons?

Quincey Abram is wondering just that. What is she being haunted by? And when things come to a point, just what can she do?

Keywords
male 1,108,953, female 998,717, canine 173,116, rodent 31,675, pig 8,131, sci-fi 4,393, corgi 4,306, giraffe 2,832, inkling 1,379, porcine 1,005, partners 2541 648, lemming 438, partners 387, suspense 217, duplex 87, quincey abram 70, harbington heroes 66, kenny baxter 63, daxton kemberge 58, laila lavinia 53, paula abram 10, walter abram 8
Details
Type: Writing - Document
Published: 10 years, 2 months ago
Rating: Mature

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193 views
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3 comments

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Norithics
10 years, 2 months ago
Oh man. So good. Gripping, intense and gruelling all in such a short time.
Milkie
10 years, 2 months ago
Employed time-skips to an effect. Maybe too many! Gotta try to slow down.
AlexanderHightail
4 years, 4 months ago
I guess sometimes you just gotta go for broke... but we know she isnt free yet.
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