Kryshi
May 9, 2025 at 5:20 AM
<Hey Rek u were right about this place, I need ur help>
That was stupid. There, essentially, was nothing that Rek could do to help Branzy to get out of the predicament. His friend might have been a paranormal enthusiast-expert, but Branzy had trouble picturing Rek, fighting the monster that was twice the human height, and from what Spoke said killed people. With a sigh, he deleted the message and turned off the phone, luminous light ceasing from the screen.
He had spent the entire day after finding the tracks restlessly roaming in his room, circling like a caged animal. Branzy wasn’t a fighter and didn’t have a silver tongue, but he most certainly was crafty. He was going to get out of this situation one way or another.
Maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t have stormed out of shop as fast as he did. Spoke knew about the… Clown, he believed it was called. There was some crucial piece of information that was missing, slipping through the cracks in his mind. But for the life of him, Branzy couldn’t get what…
His time was already running out, he thought, anxiously. Every time he stepped onto the balcony and stared into the woods, he noticed two familiar red dots glaring back. He felt the urge to go back and talk to Spoke, question him. That’s the first step. Second step, gather information from Rek, but without raising his suspicions. Yeah, because after years of being completely uninterested and skeptical about crytids, Rek would have absolutely zero troubles believing that the topic just peaked Branzy’s interest.
Then it stroke him, like a lightning from the sky. That’s what part of conversation he payed too little attention to. Spoke said that the other residents at least had a general idea of the cryptid’s existence. Did that mean that Pierce knew? Scratch that, did that mean that Parrot knew?
Branzy bit his lip, the pulsating pain bringing him back to senses. It was like spiraling, losing control over one’s thoughts in the worst way possible. If his landlord knew indeed… then this was a dismal prospect.
Calling the helpfully written on a napkin phone number, Branzy pondered how his life took such a wild turn, with him nearly dying, possibly getting stalked by the same being that attacked him, meeting his neighbor and finding out about aforementioned cryptid’s existence from the cashier of all people. It felt like the events happened not in the span of a day, but in the span of at least a week.
But Parrot wasn’t hurrying to pick up the phone. The rhythmic beeps went on for a minute, before ending abruptly. Of all of the times to be unavailable, Parrot chose today. Ok, screw Parrot, back to the step one - go ask Spoke for intel.
Leaving embraces of the flat had amplified pent up anguish and paranoia. Branzy dragged himself along the road, dirt forming a second layer atop of that, which hardened on his shoes from the morning venture. It felt like road went on forever, never ending dark of the prostrated surface. A couple of times Branzy took wrong turns, so he had to go back and retrace his steps.
His heart dropped, when he read “Closed” sign plastered on a door. One more of the threads that insured his continuous survival cut. Great.
That left with only one person to turn to. Pierce. Surely, he was ought to know, reasoned Branzy, standing on his neighbor’s doorstep. Pierce lived his whole life at this exact location, no way he hadn’t noticed 4 meter creature sneaking past the houses at evening. Still, the knocks on the door were less firm than Branzy intended.
The door opened swiftly, the dark figure of Pierce standing out against room, lit with the golden sunlight. He wore the same mask (or it was identical to the morning one), but this time he had no hoodie on, only a t-shirt with the black and red square pattern. He was dark haired, the short, carefully-tended curls framing his face in a… handsome sort of way. Wait, what was he even thinking about!?
“Pierce, I need to ask you something very important,” began Branzy, internally preparing. He was anxiously clutching his jacket. “In years that you’ve lived there, have you ever noticed anything, um, strange?”
“You mean an ancient cryptid that possibly inhabited this place before any human stepped a foot there?” the other man deadpanned.
“Oh, you know about it!” Branzy laughed in relief, “I was worried that I was going to come off as crazy, asking about a paranormal creature from the forest!” At least knowing that Pierce knew was a weight lifted off his shoulders.
“It’s a common knowledge,” shrugged Pierce, he tilted his head, an expression indicating his curiosity. “Haven’t Parrot mentioned it to you?”
“As a matter of fact, he didn’t. That bastard, can’t believe he left me in the dark and nearly gotten killed.” Pierce invited Branzy inside his flat, where he thanked the masked man for hospitality, before angrily continuing. “The last night I saw the cryptid in the woods, then it rushed towards me, but, as you can see, I miraculously survived. And then Parrot came to check up on me and calmed me down. Maybe, he should have told me at least at that moment what was really happening! But no , he chose to keep me in the dark, leaving me to doubt my own sanity!”
As abruptly as the rant began, it came to an end, Branzy slumped in an armchair that Pierce generously provided. He breathed out audibly, the understanding that he just unloaded all of his pent up frustration in front of practically a stranger settling in. “I didn’t mean to make it sound accusatory, sorry if I came off as a boor.”
Pierce reluctantly petted Branzy’s shoulder, soothing him with the motion. “I’m not shocked by Parrot’s actions, typical Parrot behavior for him. But you are not an awful human for being dumbfounded by your emotions, Branzy. The reality can be too much, at times, for everyone.” That was simultaneously cryptic and reassuring.
“Just, too much things happened in such a short timeframe,” mumbled Branzy. As he looked around, curious, his gaze lingered over the window for too long. He noticed as the sun was getting closer and closer to the horizon, any sense of comfort leaving his body as it automatically stiffened, fingers tightly gripping armrests.
“I don’t think I can be alone right now. I know I’m asking for much, but may I stay for a night here?”
Considering there was only one bed, the request may have had unforeseen implications. Branzy’s face turned bright shade of red. “Not in a weird way, I am just not feeling safe at my flat, so if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll just sit there till the morning.”
Pierce had circled around him, appearing from behind the soft armchair. It was impossible to guess what the other man was thinking at any given moment, which was nerve wrecking at the tense moments like this. “You can stay all you want,” he muttered, finally.
“Thanks,” replied Branzy, smiling in alleviation with the corner of his lips. “If you aren’t busy, we can do stuff. Like, play board games or… um… bake cookies.”
While Branzy was trying to come up with fun activities, Pierce reckoned that if angels had human forms, Branzy would have surely been one. Get a grip, the guy just showed you more decency than anyone before. The reason for that, is that he has no idea who Pierce is. The moment Branzy was going to find out (and he knew, that cat couldn’t be kept in a bag forever), he would run away. And, as much as it pained Pierce to admit it, he would be completely justified in his fear.
He preyed on the fear of humans, a being that installed primordial fear into every person who saw it, there was no sweet romance story for him, no companionship, no comradery. The only person, who stuck around, was Parrot, and Piece didn’t delude himself, that was plainly out of his landlord duties.
“I enjoy the cards,” smoothly drawled Pierce. The ability to thoroughly think and listen to a person speak in the same time was immensely useful. “It’s better start with something simple, how about ‘Idiot’?
The evening was going fantastically well. After a short rules explanation by Pierce, they played the first round, with Pierce, unsurprisingly, coming on top. Branzy shuffled the cards, it was his turn for offense, ‘three’, ‘seven’ and trump ‘six’. Pierce only had one card, which was a trump ‘ten’. It was far from the strongest card, but with his photographic memory it wasn’t hard to calculate which cards Branzy had. Was it cheating? Perhaps. But it’s not like Pierce just could tone his memory down. The games went on, one after the other, with Branzy getting more and more frustrated, until he exclaimed that Pierce was cheating and threw cards at the man, gathering a snicker from him.
It turned out that Pierce had little other games aside from cards, but on the back of his mind he had a memory of finding a strange box called ‘Monopoly’ the time he moved in, five years ago. For some weird reason, he didn’t throw it out back then, for which he was grateful. The thick layer of dust blown away for the first time in half a decade.
They were setting up a green board with the silver figurines, when the door suddenly squeaked, and, like a bolt out of blue, Parrot stood at his door. See, from the angle the landlord couldn’t see Branzy, so when he opened his mouth to scowl at Pierce for whatever reason (probably because he left a torn apart squirrel near the private sector), Pierce rushed ahead, crossing the corridor in one smooth motion, pressing his finger against lips in a ‘shush’ sign. He didn’t require telepathy to convey what was going to happen, if the man decided to continue talking.
Parrot would have demanded explanation, if that was anyone else, aside from a very menacing shapeshifting cryptid that he was dealing with. So he started to gradually back away instead. However, it was time for Branzy to lean towards the door and notice the landlord.
“Parrot!” Branzy angrily exclaimed. Oh, that was definitely going to be something.
