The Walking Bomb Talks

Chapter 2

Whitty woke up starving, so his natural instinct is to find any source of food. Normally he would go to a store to get a family-sized bag of chips with the money he earns from his day job, but he wasn't outside on the streets anymore. With that thought in mind, Whitty jolted up, somehow ending up on the floor, tangled in his covers. He struggled for a moment before giving up, he was too hungry to even function. Though, that hunger soon gave him the motivation to struggle again.

"Do you... need help?" A chuckle was heard behind him, making him turn around in his cocoon.

It was Sarvente and behind her was Ruv, an eyebrow raised. Whitty blushed a vibrant orange and nodded. It took about 3 minutes straight for Sarvente to get Whitty's lanky body out of the cover, so when she did, they both sighed in relief.

"Oh, we came to check on you because we heard a big bang, but I'm guessing you're fine," Sarvente said with a smile.

"Yeah-yeah, just woke up hungry is all..." Whitty stuttered, voice drifting off.

Sarvente clapped her hands, Whitty jumped at the sudden noise, "Right! It's 6 AM, so I will be making breakfast!" Sarvente turned to leave before adding, "Ruv will escort you to the dining room after you take a shower," she looked over at Whitty with an apologetic smile, "no offense." She leaves.

Now it was just Whitty and Ruv in the room. Just the two of them. Together. Alone. He was alone. With Ru-

"I show you the showers." Whitty's thoughts were stopped by Ruv's voice as he walked out of the room.

It took a couple of seconds for Whitty to fully realize what Ruv had just said, once he did, he didn't take a second to hurry up to catch up to him. They walked in silence, Whitty didn't want to be rude, but what could he say to a person that have no interest in making small talk with him? Whitty just sighs and looked down, shoving his hand in his hoodie pockets. Whitty crashed into Ruv when he suddenly stopped, Whitty blinked up at him in annoyance, he could have at least said something. Ruv turned his head to look down at him and nods to the door they were standing beside.

"That the bathroom, the dining room is there," Whitty's eyes followed where he was pointing and looked back up at him when he continued, "make sure you don't slip," though his face didn't show it, Whitty felt like Ruv was mocking him and that makes him very annoyed.

Whitty crossed his arms and glared, "I won't slip jackass," he stated as he tries to shove Ruv away from him, but Ruv backed away before they could make contact. Which caused Whitty to stumble, catching himself, he glared even harder at Ruv and frowns.

Ruv only raised an eyebrow before turning, "I'll leave you to it then." With that Ruv walked away.

Whitty huffed and muttered a 'bitch' under his breath as he opened the bathroom door. He looked around, this was a pretty big bathroom, it had four showers, stalls, and sinks. There were also two washer and dryer combos in a side room (cuz why not). Stripping, Whitty walked over to the washer and stuffed his clothes into it, and added soap before turning it on.

The bomb then walked in front of a wide mirror and scanned at himself. His joints were segmented like a bug. His black skin looked smooth; it was. He was tall and lanky and had a large white X on his chest. He never worked out but had a light but noticeable 6pack. He did not have a penis, but then again, he was made to destroy not to fuck. Twisting his head to the side, he sighed and pushed himself away from the mirror. He stood underneath one of the shower heads and turns the shower on.

With a quick wash of soup that smelt like lavender, he turned off the shower and walked over to the washers, turning it off, he pulled his newly fresh clothes out. He held the against his face, satisfied with how warm and nice smelling they were. He smiled, sighing with contentment. Yeah, he bathed and washed his clothes before, but this was different and he doesn't know why or how. Maybe it was because the quality of the soup he used was much better than the one he used at home. Home... With the moment ruined by the thoughts of what happened yesterday, he puts his clothes on and walked out of the bathroom. He stopped short as he sees a group of strangers wearing black walk past him, looking at him like he had a bomb for a head. Wait. He slouches and puts his hood over his head as more people began to walk past, staring. He wanted to hide away, so he speed-walked to the room Ruv pointed to. The dining room was connected to a kitchen area. Whitty looked around, Sarvente was nowhere to be found, but Ruv was there leaning on the countertops, sipping coffee.

"Sarv had to do something, food in the fridge," he nodded over to the refrigerator. Whitty stared at him, as he always had a Russian accent. Has it always been bloody hot?

Shaking his head, blushing, Whitty mumbled a 'thanks' as he walked over to the refrigerator, pulling out some milk and pancakes. The bomb puts the pancakes on a plate and into a microwave, pushed some buttons, grabbed a cup from a cabinet, and poured himself some milk. He sipped as he turned to sit on the countertops.

They sat in comfortable silence before Whitty started to speak, "lots of people here? Party?" he slapped himself mentally. Do Churches even host parties? He wouldn't know.

Ruv shrugged, "If you think funerals are parties, I won't judge."

Whitty almost spat out his drink, he swallowed quickly before turning to look at Ruv, "I'm sorry- there's a bloody funeral happening here?" When Ruv just nodded, Whitty looked away and groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I don't belong here..." he whined.

"Don't get in the way and you should be fine," Ruv stated like it would be easy for a tall ass bomb to hide from everyone. Ruv silently pointed to the microwave as he walks out of the kitchen.

After Whitty finished his breakfast, he washed the dishes and put them on a drying rack. He shakes his wet hands as he walks out of the kitchen and looked down the halls. He started to walk out of his room when he heard a voice call his name. When the bomb turns, he was greeted by a fist to the face, which ended up hurting a lot more to the other more than Whitty.

"What the hell?" Whitty backed away looking at the man, "do I know you?"

The man took out a gun, making the bomb go into panic mode, "no, but I know you," the man snarled taking steps forward, in return, Whitty took steps back.

"Look man, I-I think you got the wrong person." Whitty stuttered and smiled nervously as he puts his hands out in defense, eyes still locked on to the man's gun.

Sure, a gun wouldn't kill him unless the bullet hits him in his heart cavity-where his brain is-but he still would feel the pain of the bullet going through or bouncing off his head and he doesn't like the feeling of pain, both physically and mentally.

"You're that sick bastard that kill my fucking family," Whitty blinked, the hell? The man continued, "they went to your fucking concert. Y'know, the one you blew up at."

Oh-

Oh shit.

~Cliffhanger!
Updated: November 8, 2022
Words: 1310