FellPoth Short Stories and One-Shots

Silent Requiem: Chapter 1

Chapter Warnings: PTSD, panic attack, violence, injuries, swearing

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*pop*

Rurik flinched as the sound went off, but he was prepared for today and had a plan.

"Hey, I'll be right back; I need to grab something," he called to his coworkers. He was silently thankful his voice didn't waver as he jogged outside to where the truck was.

*BAM*

This one was louder than the last; they were getting closer. He had to-

"It's just fireworks... calm down...," Rurik muttered forcefully under his breath, reminding himself he was at his shipping job as he wrenched open the passenger side door and rifled hastily through his bag in the footwell. Feeling his hand grasp the desired item, he slipped the headphones over his skull and pressed the button for noise canceling. He let out a shaky sigh as the world went quiet around him, slamming the door of the truck shut and smiling when he couldn't hear it. After a minute of counting out his breaths, he re-entered the building to finish his job.

He was glad he had agreed to keep the headphones on-hand; he wasn't sure if he would be able to live down having a panic attack in front of his co-workers, especially over some piddly little firecrackers. He hated that the noises affected him the way they did, but 'PTSD' apparently wasn't something you could just ignore; he had to find a way to work around it with Lotus's help instead.

Rurik would definitely need to thank his companion... maybe he could do something nice for them once he got home.

Rounding the corner of the office they were in the middle of offloading a bulk order of CPU towers in, one of his coworkers looked up; Isaac cocked his head, 'Hey, why'd you- are you wearing headphones?'

"I just need them for work today," Rurik replied, modulating his voice to accommodate for his lack of hearing, "just wave me down and make sure I can see your mouth if you need to talk to me."

'-ou can read lips?' another co-worker, Jannie, popped into his field of vision.

Rurik shrugged as he picked up a box, "More or less; kind of had to learn so I can function around loud noises."

'Loud noi-,' Isaac paused mid-sentence, his mouth forming into a shape of epiphany, 'ohhhhh.'

The skeleton returned to his work, deciding to let his associates form their own conclusions as he headed for the elevator. As long as he could do his job, everything was fine.

---

Powering on his phone after work, Rurik was greeted with a text notification; unlocking it and opening the messenger, he couldn't help but smirk as he leaned against the brick wall of the building while typing up his responses.

L: I heard fireworks going off. Are the headphones working?

L: Let me know if you have any problems.

R: Yup, worked like a charm

R: Had a few hiccups with communication but nobody kicked up a fuss

R: On my way home now

Pulling up a music playlist, connecting his phone to the jack in the left muff, and slipping the device into his pocket, the skeleton set his mind toward what he could do when he arrived home while stretching his awareness of the surrounding area.

He was about three blocks from the house when his instincts urged him to dodge sideways, saving him from a stab to the back. Drawing out the knife from his belt loop, four attackers appeared in his vision. Great.

'-esn't look like he can hear you,' one of the monsters in front of him said. Rurik scowled, glancing behind him to find three more; he had to make a decision: did he fight at a disadvantage with the headphones on or take them off and risk the fireworks setting him off?

His opponents didn't give him the opportunity to decide, lunging at him as a group. They were easy enough to dodge when they were fighting each other for space, but once he disabled three of them, the other four were able to coordinate their attacks better. He inhaled swiftly when one punch managed to jar his headphones from their position, though they luckily managed to catch on his neck without breaking.

Reaching up to pull them back on, he was forced to guard another strike instead. "Dammit," he cursed, shoving his opponent backward. He had to get the headphones back in place; it was only a matter of time befo-

*BOOM*

The loud explosion nearby shook him to his core and it was all he could do to maintain the grip on his knife as he fought to steady his breathing. It wasn't real... it wasn't-

*BANG*

Rurik's skull rang with the sounds of screaming and gunfire; his radio droned on in the background with muffled static. He looked up at the sound of voices; a figure was approaching him from the brush. A soldier... something was gleaming in their hand.

*BAM*

A weapon. They had a weapon. They were an enemy. He had to move. He had to fight. He would die if he didn't fight.

Something grabbed him from behind.

*BOOM*

Rurik spun around, driving the enemy soldier to the ground and stabbing anywhere he could reach. He each stab was punctuated by a grunt as he bore down on the aggressor with merciless conviction. The body under him screamed and struggled, but he kept going. It was him or his enemy; destroy them before they destroyed him; kill or be killed.

Pain blooming in his right shoulder had him lashing out, his blade catching onto flesh as it swung wide; the scream that followed told him he had hit his target. Scrambling to his feet, his eye lights darted between the bloody body writhing in agony on the ground and the enemy still wielding the knife.

A fist collided with his skull from behind, sending him staggering forward as he lost hold of his knife. The loss managed to distract him long enough that the enemy group ran for cover shouting something about being crazy. By the time he had retrieved his weapon, Rurik found himself alone in the forest.

He had to call for backup; he-

*CRACK*

They were coming; he had to run. Grabbing the radio, he pressed a button and yelled, "This is Roller! I'm under enemy fire and in need of reinforcements, I repeat, I n-"

*BOOM*

His breathing came out in halting gasps. His magic surged through his bones as he weaved through the trees avoiding gunfire, desperate to make it to the home base alive; he would find reinforcements there... he would be safe there.

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Word Count: 1,106