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The Thing Under The Bed
2018-11-27 15:30Seven-year-old Jon Crane was on the verge of a minor panic attack. Someone or something had been in his room, rummaging through the fabrics and craft supplies that Lonnie Machin and Alice Brown had brought him. Some of the sewing supplies were missing. What made it even worse was that he just woken up and everything had been in place before he gone to bed, so they been creeping around his room while he was in here asleep. He checked the door, but it was still latched on the inside.
He looked at it a moment longer before unlatching it and peeking out at the hallway outside. It wasn't that he hadn't been out of his room at all... just that he restricted it thus far to meals and other such things. He was relieved he wouldn't have to go far, as a familiar ten year old boy with ginger hair wasn't that far away. Jon walked over to him, trying to look less nervous than he felt. "Lonnie? Someone's been in my room..."
Lonnie accompanied Jon back to his room to begin systematic search for any clues as to who was responsible. Lonnie saw no reason not to believe Jon was telling what he believed to be the truth, and he could see Jon found that a relief. But the older boy hid worse concerns. If the door was latched, he wasn't certain how anyone - except maybe one of the various Clayfaces - could get inside. He hoped they'd find something to show what had happened, because he didn't like the idea of Jon sleepwalking. Or worse, the old 'Scarecrow' persona becoming true dissociative identity disorder...
The room had no windows, it had stone walls and a heavy wooden door that had been latched. It had roughly two inches of clearance between the door and the floor. Lonnie wasn't sure how thin the Clayfaces could become. Maybe if the baby had wandered off... but it didn't look like a child as young as Cassius Payne had done this. The fabrics and sewing supplies were the only thing in the room that had been disturbed. And not even all of those. The old clothes and straw, according to Jon, were where he'd left them... much to Lonnie's unspoken relief. One of the seasonal fabric bundles had been opened, some of the embroidery thread was gone, and so were needles and other thread. "We should check for anything else out of place, or anything an intruder might have left behind," he told Jon.
Jon nodded, and then remembered someone he'd known in that fuzzy adult past who might have been able to ooze around a locked door. "Do you think Clayface did this? One of them? I don't know what any of them would want with what's missing."
"Means and opportunity, yes, but I don't know what motive there could be either," Lonnie said, as he checked around furniture and along the bottom edge of the door for... well, he wasn't certain what. Traces of clay, perhaps? He didn't know if they left any behind.
Since Lonnie was checking next to the door, Jon thought about it. If he had been someone who could turn into a blobby clay monster, and he was sneaking into a room, what places would he go? Close to the floor to get under the door, which Lonnie was already looking at. Maybe a place to hide in case he woke up? With that in mind, he bent over to check under the bed.
"Nonononono!" a small voice squeaked and Jon jerked back before he was able to get a good look at what was under there.
"I think we've found your intruder," Lonnie said, a mixture of surprised and curious. It wasn't going to be able to go anywhere without either of them seeing it, unless it could go through walls. But whatever it was didn't sound exactly human. It didn't even sound as much like one as one of the Clayfaces. It was more... liquid, somehow.
"Please don't look at me," the voice drifted from under the bed. If it weren't for the inhuman qualities, it would almost have sounded like a small girl child. But they both knew it wasn't Annie Karlo-Hagen under there.
"Why not?" Lonnie asked, though he made no move to do so. Whatever it was, he didn't want to violate it's privacy, even if it was intruding.
"And why are you in my room? And under my bed? Did you take the cloth and sewing things?" Jon asked. The thing sounded so small and vulnerable even he was having trouble being afraid of it.
"I broke. It hurts people to look at me. I have to fix it..." A tendril of something black-purple and translucent pushed a faded yellow rag from under Jon's bed and then quickly retreated before they could make out exactly what it was.
After a moment's hesitation and exchanged glances, Lonnie reached to pick the rag up. It looked like some sort of limbless stuffed rabbit, only without the stuffing and with an open bottom. The fabric was dry-rotted and the seams were coming apart. While Lonnie could see what it was, it was Jon who understood first.
"It's a costume. A mask. You wear this..." It was like the Scarecrow, but in reverse. "You wear this to keep others safe from you," he said to the thing under the bed in a gentle voice.
"Yes. It's Pikachu. Many like Pikachu..."
"That's a type of Pokémon," Lonnie said. "It... She?..," he realized he wasn't certain, but it sounded more like a girl, "...must have come here with the rest of them from the Vending Machine. ... I don't know what kind would hurt someone if it was seen, however." Despite having them for neighbors, he'd paid more attention to what the former Pokémon were now rather than taking time to study much about their past world and, from what he'd heard, nearly a thousand different types.
"Mimikyu," came a soft reply from under the bed.
Jon sat down next to the bed. He was still too tall to accidentally see under it, even sitting. "I know how to sew." It was something he'd learned when older, but right then... it was something that could be a good thing.
"Will you help me?"
"If you'd like me to."
A piece of thick sunshine-yellow flannel was pushed out from under the bed, two circles of bright red velvet roughly stitched to it.
Lonnie watched this with a trace of a smile, and after briefly catching the other boy's attention to let him know, quietly left the room. It would seem Jon had found a friend, and he thought that could only be beneficial to the younger boy's mental stability.
Behind him, Jonathan Crane started to carefully reattach the velvet cheeks to the rabbit shape with a neat blanket stitch.
He looked at it a moment longer before unlatching it and peeking out at the hallway outside. It wasn't that he hadn't been out of his room at all... just that he restricted it thus far to meals and other such things. He was relieved he wouldn't have to go far, as a familiar ten year old boy with ginger hair wasn't that far away. Jon walked over to him, trying to look less nervous than he felt. "Lonnie? Someone's been in my room..."
Lonnie accompanied Jon back to his room to begin systematic search for any clues as to who was responsible. Lonnie saw no reason not to believe Jon was telling what he believed to be the truth, and he could see Jon found that a relief. But the older boy hid worse concerns. If the door was latched, he wasn't certain how anyone - except maybe one of the various Clayfaces - could get inside. He hoped they'd find something to show what had happened, because he didn't like the idea of Jon sleepwalking. Or worse, the old 'Scarecrow' persona becoming true dissociative identity disorder...
The room had no windows, it had stone walls and a heavy wooden door that had been latched. It had roughly two inches of clearance between the door and the floor. Lonnie wasn't sure how thin the Clayfaces could become. Maybe if the baby had wandered off... but it didn't look like a child as young as Cassius Payne had done this. The fabrics and sewing supplies were the only thing in the room that had been disturbed. And not even all of those. The old clothes and straw, according to Jon, were where he'd left them... much to Lonnie's unspoken relief. One of the seasonal fabric bundles had been opened, some of the embroidery thread was gone, and so were needles and other thread. "We should check for anything else out of place, or anything an intruder might have left behind," he told Jon.
Jon nodded, and then remembered someone he'd known in that fuzzy adult past who might have been able to ooze around a locked door. "Do you think Clayface did this? One of them? I don't know what any of them would want with what's missing."
"Means and opportunity, yes, but I don't know what motive there could be either," Lonnie said, as he checked around furniture and along the bottom edge of the door for... well, he wasn't certain what. Traces of clay, perhaps? He didn't know if they left any behind.
Since Lonnie was checking next to the door, Jon thought about it. If he had been someone who could turn into a blobby clay monster, and he was sneaking into a room, what places would he go? Close to the floor to get under the door, which Lonnie was already looking at. Maybe a place to hide in case he woke up? With that in mind, he bent over to check under the bed.
"Nonononono!" a small voice squeaked and Jon jerked back before he was able to get a good look at what was under there.
"I think we've found your intruder," Lonnie said, a mixture of surprised and curious. It wasn't going to be able to go anywhere without either of them seeing it, unless it could go through walls. But whatever it was didn't sound exactly human. It didn't even sound as much like one as one of the Clayfaces. It was more... liquid, somehow.
"Please don't look at me," the voice drifted from under the bed. If it weren't for the inhuman qualities, it would almost have sounded like a small girl child. But they both knew it wasn't Annie Karlo-Hagen under there.
"Why not?" Lonnie asked, though he made no move to do so. Whatever it was, he didn't want to violate it's privacy, even if it was intruding.
"And why are you in my room? And under my bed? Did you take the cloth and sewing things?" Jon asked. The thing sounded so small and vulnerable even he was having trouble being afraid of it.
"I broke. It hurts people to look at me. I have to fix it..." A tendril of something black-purple and translucent pushed a faded yellow rag from under Jon's bed and then quickly retreated before they could make out exactly what it was.
After a moment's hesitation and exchanged glances, Lonnie reached to pick the rag up. It looked like some sort of limbless stuffed rabbit, only without the stuffing and with an open bottom. The fabric was dry-rotted and the seams were coming apart. While Lonnie could see what it was, it was Jon who understood first.
"It's a costume. A mask. You wear this..." It was like the Scarecrow, but in reverse. "You wear this to keep others safe from you," he said to the thing under the bed in a gentle voice.
"Yes. It's Pikachu. Many like Pikachu..."
"That's a type of Pokémon," Lonnie said. "It... She?..," he realized he wasn't certain, but it sounded more like a girl, "...must have come here with the rest of them from the Vending Machine. ... I don't know what kind would hurt someone if it was seen, however." Despite having them for neighbors, he'd paid more attention to what the former Pokémon were now rather than taking time to study much about their past world and, from what he'd heard, nearly a thousand different types.
"Mimikyu," came a soft reply from under the bed.
Jon sat down next to the bed. He was still too tall to accidentally see under it, even sitting. "I know how to sew." It was something he'd learned when older, but right then... it was something that could be a good thing.
"Will you help me?"
"If you'd like me to."
A piece of thick sunshine-yellow flannel was pushed out from under the bed, two circles of bright red velvet roughly stitched to it.
Lonnie watched this with a trace of a smile, and after briefly catching the other boy's attention to let him know, quietly left the room. It would seem Jon had found a friend, and he thought that could only be beneficial to the younger boy's mental stability.
Behind him, Jonathan Crane started to carefully reattach the velvet cheeks to the rabbit shape with a neat blanket stitch.
