Dead Set. || PURPLEPHONE

_panic

(( - For the purposes of canon Ennard does not has not and never will exist. -

I know I say a lot of my chapters are based on my panic attacks but this chapter is a written manifestation of all that I fear. Poured into the letters I type. Read them and know what terror is. Look too close and you'll f e e l  i t. ))

The metallic echo of Handy's words bounced off the cool green glass and rebounded again and again from the smooth metal walls. They settled themselves deeply inside Scott's quivering heart and nestled there, just as all the lights snapped off at once.

Scott's breathing came hard and fast, "We're gonna die. We're- We're gonna die! We're going to die!" Hysteria clutched and pulled at him, his voice raising and his limbs shaking as liquid fear shot through his core like lightning. He needed to run, needed to run, needed to-

He was on the other side of the room. Not sure how he got there. Didn't matter. Clawing, banging, fingernail bending off and tearing. Spinning around, his back to the cool metal, "I don't want to die! I don't want to die! I don't want to die! Please!"  

'Funtime Auditorium vent lock opened.'

And Scott screamed then - or was it even his own voice? He couldn't see. Couldn't think. Mind spinning. Black creeping over his vision. "Don'twannadiedon'twannadiedon'twannadie."

Hands. Shaking him, "Geezus, Scott, think!" Words barely reaching him. Words he knew. Not making any sense. "You're the only one who can get us out of this!"

"Can't," Scott whispered, "Can't, can't, can't, can't. Can't escape. We'll die. We're going to die. I don't want to die. No, no, no, please!" His voice reaching hysteria again, his body preparing to shut down.

'Ballora Gallery vent lock opened.'

A mouth. On his own mouth. He scrabbled and pushed. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe. But the body against him stayed against him no matter how he scratched or punched or kicked and out of urges he couldn't control, Scott's body slowed his breathing to avoid asphyxiation. 

Goingtodiegoingtodiegoing... to die. Going to die. Going to die. Going to die. No way out. No way out, no wAY OUT, NO WAY-

But just as his breathing again began to speed a tongue forced its way past his own teeth and was in his mouth. 

Scott frowned, his thoughts suddenly coherent. Why the hell is Vincent kissing me?  And it snapped. Vincent. Vincent is kissing me. Vincent's going to die, too. Vincent is going to die!

"You listen to me, Scott," Eggs grabbed Scott's shoulders and forced him to look square on, "Are you listening?"

Scott gasped, roughly shoving Vincent back, "I know!" he rasped. His limbs coming back into focus. The blackness on his vision crawling back.

"If you're ever trapped Downstairs after hours," Eggs commanded, "You do exactly as I say." 

"What?" Vincent's eyes widened. Scott could see him clearly now, everything returning to normal. His voice loud, "Quickly, damnit, Scott, what is it!?"

" You go under the desk. And you stay there until I come and get you, okay?" Eggs glared.

"Under the desk!" Scott pushed past Vincent, dropping to his knees on the hard tile floor and searching frantically. His fingers cutting through eight years of dust and grime until they hit a metal door which rotated open under his hands. 

'Motion Trigger: Circus Gallery Vent.' 

It was Vincent, then, who got over the shock of Scott's sudden change. He also dropped to his knees and swept forward. Hands and elbows and knees and feet and Vincent shoved Scott roughly into the tiny hiding spot and crammed himself inside after him. He was sitting on Scott's arm and one of Scott's legs was precariously angled over his groin but none of it mattered. The metal door grated and crunched. It was old with years of rust and in some places had rotted right through. The noise was like somebody dragging their fingernails down a chalkboard but it didn't block it out. The vent. Clanging and clanking, slowly louder, louder, louder. 

It took all of the limited space Vincent had to pull the door shut around their heads, just as the vent reached an incredible crescendo and then...

Silence.

.

..

...

Scott's face was pressed right up against the underside of the desk, his breaths making the tiniest foggy clouds on the metal. He couldn't see anything and for the first time in his life Scott had never been more grateful for it. 

Vincent hadn't let go of the door, his aching fingers crushed between the two metal plates. He didn't dare remove them, lest the door fall open and reveal them to whatever was in the room. The quiet was agonizing, the silence a presence in the hiding space with them, slipping into their eyes and ears and noses and mouths infesting inside their bodies like black oil. 

"I know that you are here."

The voice was a whisper. It was sheets rustling against each other in a long-abandoned house. Wind passing through leaves of rotting trees in graveyards. Scott let out a pitiful whimper, unable even to move his fingers to clamp across his mouth. Somehow he tilted his head a few stiff degrees to watch the blackness beyond the hiding space.

"It has been a long time since somebody has stumbled across this place of their own. Free. Will." Was it mocking, or sorrowful, or haunting? It was the voice of a snake. A demon. A dead child.

"The others are waiting," the voice croaked. "They have not been oiled in so long. So long. They would love to coat their joints... in... your... blood."

A green eye. Scott yelped in fright and pressed himself harder against the metal desk. The eye shifted. It met his gaze. It stared into him, shocking and luminescent and so, so dead. Tiny little clicks reminded Scott that this was a machine. Incapable of feelings. Incapable of remorse. Incapable of ethics. 

Capable of murder. 

"If you want to survive," the voice whispered, "You will do as I say."

Scott could remember it. A dusky evening in September when Scott had joked about having a sleepover Downstairs and Eggs had slammed him back against the wall with no warning. The rest of it came to him now.

"You stay there until I come and get you, okay?" Eggs glared.  "You hear me? Do NOT leave that hiding space under ANY circumstances. Especially... ESPECIALLY not if a voice tells you to do as it says."

Scott let out a shaking, terrified breath.

Sorry, Eggs. But I don't think you're going to come and protect me now.