Taking A Chance

Enemies Slowly Fade

  The sky was a deep blue, almost as dark as a shadow. Stars littered the dark void, though some were twinkling brighter than others as they shone above the town below. A dim neighborhood quietly stood tall in the brisk Night, the streetlights barely illuminating the street around them. Few buildings had their lights on - inside and out; Although, that didn't stop a figure from walking to a small - yet, comfortable - house, quietly unlocking the door as they hung their head low. The front door slowly opened, revealing a - heavily cloaked - tall figure walk into the living room, holding a plastic bag in one hand as the doorknob stayed in the other. The figure briskly closed the door behind them, quickly locking it before taking off their hood. Their black hair was mangled, some chunks missing entirely as their skin revealed Purple rotting flesh from underneath. The figure took a deep breath, quietly observing their home with their Deep Blues that seemed sunken into their skull. Standing in front of the door, the figure could see a comfortable couch to their right, the cream color seemingly appeasing in the warm house. A walkway to the kitchen was to the left, the room looking - almost - as white as snow, though the figure knew they wouldn't need to use it as often anymore. Looking forward lead to a stairway going up to the bed and bath rooms, though beside the flight of stairs was a door to the dark basement that the figure seemingly hated, a tinge of annoyance rising to their throat. The figure carefully hummed as they walked forward, their voice sounding hoarse from the lack of use before a light tickle drafted their throat, causing them to clear said throat. "Ennard! I brought the exotic butters home!" The figure coolly called, still clutching the heavy bag to their side. The house seemed quiet after their call, though the sudden feeling of eyes boring into the figure's skull gave a different indication. The figure rose an annoyed brow, quickly turning towards the ceiling as they heard the bag beside them swish to the side. 'Why do they keep doing this...?' The figure agitatedly thought, though kept the thought in place as they cleared their throat again, which tasted metallic - unlike the cough before. "Why not take a picture? It'll last longer." The figure agitatedly spoke, continuing their sharp gaze towards the ceiling. The square panels were as white as clouds, not an ounce of a stain showing, even after the hand that crept from within slowly crawled out. The hand moved a panel, quickly sliding out of the space before landing in front of the purple figure, their Bluish Green eye turned cold. The figure stood six feet tall, the cold metal face appearing just as white as the ceiling from before. Metallic wires ran everywhere on the figure, showing wired arms, legs, and ribs seemingly without a care. Eyes barely appeared on other parts of the figure, though their most prominent eye stared back at the purple figure before them, now an unreadable emotion showing.

  Before either could commute, the metallic creature quickly swiped the bag from the other, almost ready to jump back into the ceiling from before. 'It took him long enough...' 'I was wondering when Eggs would come back with my exotic butters...' The creature coldly thought, though all movement stopped, once the rotting figure behind them coughed. Facing one another again, the creature watched 'Eggs' tap a foot on the ground, his arms crossed before his injured torso with agitation clear in his Deep Blues that stared back at them. "Aren't you forgetting to say something before you go, Ennard...?" The figure coldly asked, his stance only straightening once Ennard stood closer to him. Ennard shot a short glare before - what could sound like - a huff escaped their voice box, giving 'Eggs' a neutral look. "Thank you, Eggs..." Ennard quietly called, watching as 'Eggs' agitated look softened, to a degree. "Good, but my name is Michael." Michael coolly countered, watching Ennard roll their several eyes before reaching the ceiling. "Whatever, Michael Eggs." Ennard quietly drawled before climbing into the ceiling, letting the panel from before close behind them. Michael looked up for a moment longer before a deep sigh escaped his chapped lips, his head quickly hanging low to the growing silence. 'God, why did I bring them here with me...?' 'I could have stayed here, while they ran elsewhere like they wanted.' 'It's not like I could get them out of me before - or after - the incident weeks ago...' Michael cupped his face in his hands, a loud groan gargling in his throat. 'This pisses me off, but there's nothing for me to do about it, anymore.' 'What's done is done.' Michael wisely thought, though that wisdom turned to agitation at remembering the creature's attitude, feeling familiarity with it.  'Ugh, Why do they act like this, to begin with...?' 'I swear, they remind me of me when C.C-' Michael quickly froze, a muttered gasp escaping his throat. Michael carefully covered his mouth, his Deep Blues filled with shock and horror as he - unwilling - replayed his memories of the young boy from years ago. Each memory appearing just as clear as they did years prior, though the last memory before the funeral had - still - struck so many nerves, only reminding him of how - truly - cruel he was to people. 'C.C...' Michael cautiously thought before he swallowed the heavy lump in his throat, grabbing at his shirt for comfort. 'Maybe this is my karma...' Michael nervously thought, a dark cloud growing in his groggy mind as a sniffle was heard. 'Maybe he'll never forgive me, and I deserve this for tormenting him the way I did...' Michael thought again before he took a shaky breath, quietly turning towards the dim stairway. 'I miss C.C and Elizabeth...' 'Mom and Dad...' 'Uncle Henry and Charlie...' Michael shakily sighed as he walked towards the stairs, his groggily mind growing darker to the cold memories from before. 'Maybe some sleep will help with something...' 'I just wish I could forget everything with sleep...' Michael sorrowfully thought as he climbed the stairs, seemingly unaware of the eyes still boring into him as he left.