COCOA'S WORLD: chapter 2.

Instructions

[ flyte , 5:21 pm , dyle’s map ] The air in the lower corridor felt like it was thickening into cold grease. Flyte leaned his shoulder against the peeling wallpaper, his gaze fixed on Squirm. They had been on this run for twenty minutes, but the silence between them had become a physical weight. "Squirm? Buddy? Are you alright? You look… shaken," Flyte asked, his voice low, vibrating with a concern he couldn't quite hide. Squirm didn't respond. He stood as rigid as a statue; his eyes locked coldly on the floor tiles. In his mind, he was still back in the library, paralyzed among the overturned bookshelves. He could still see the distorted, wire-thin limbs of Twisted Bassie skittering across the ceiling and hear the rhythmic snip-snap of her tearing through the archives. He had joined this run to outrun the image, but it was clinging to him like a shadow. "Well!!! we should be looking for medkits now!!!" Shrimpo’s voice sliced through the tension like a dull blade. He stepped forward and shoved Squirm’s back with a rough, impatient jolt. Flyte swung his head around, his pupils narrowing. He stared at the shrimp with full, burning anger in his eyes. He didn't have hands to shove back, but he stepped into Shrimpo’s space, his presence sharp and imposing. "Don't touch him, Shrimpo! Can't you see he's falling apart?" Flutter hovered between them, her wings buzzing with a frantic, rhythmic clicking. She couldn't talk, and without hands to grab Squirm, she was forced to use her entire body to communicate. She nudged her head gently against Squirm’s arm, her antennae twitching in a silent, desperate attempt to ground him. She let out a sharp, worried chirp, her large eyes darting toward the dark ventilation grates above. "Oh, stop coddling the worm!" Shrimpo snapped, waving his arms dismissively. "We have a floor to finish! If he wants to mope, he can do it in the elevator!" "It was her," Squirm finally whispered. His voice sounded like dry parchment being crushed. "In the library. Bassie... she wasn't just wandering. She was hunting by sound, Flyte." The blood drained from Flyte’s face. He opened his mouth to signal an immediate retreat, but a sharp, metallic twang—the sound of a high-tension string being plucked—echoed from the vent directly above Flutter. Flutter reacted with the instinct of a creature born to flee. She let out a piercing, high-pitched whistle—a final, frantic alarm—and zipped upward. She wasn't trying to run; she was trying to block the opening, acting as a living shield for her friends. In a blur of motion, a rusted, jagged guitar string snaked out from the darkness. It coiled around Flutter’s midsection with a sickening, mechanical screech. Flyte watched, frozen, as the wire tightened with a brutal, sudden jerk. There was a horrific, dry snap of delicate chitin and wings. Flutter didn't have a voice to scream; there was only the sound of her limp body hitting the metal plating of the vent as she was yanked upward into the machinery. "FLUTTER!" Flyte’s cry was a mangled roar of grief. He didn't think; he simply charged. He threw his weight into a nearby heavy supply cart, ramming it into the wall beneath the vent. The impact jarred his entire frame, but the grate rattled, its screws shearing off until it hung by a single, twisted corner. He could see a tuft of her bright fluff snagged on the metal. "Flyte! Look out! Behind you!" Squirm’s voice shattered. A second ventilation grate behind them was sliding open with a hiss. Shrimpo let out a strangled yelp and threw himself flat, narrowly avoiding a cluster of silver wires that lashed down like a spider’s legs. But Squirm remained standing. He was staring at the second vent, his eyes wide and vacant, paralyzed by the return of the nightmare he had seen in the library. A thick wire looped around Squirm’s neck and chest. He didn't struggle. He didn't even blink. With a violent, rhythmic twang, Squirm was hoisted into the ceiling, vanishing into the darkness without a sound. "NO!" Flyte lunged, but he was grabbing at empty air. At the end of the hall, the elevator dinked, its doors sliding open to reveal a flickering, yellow light. The hallway was alive now with the sound of crawling metal. Flyte looked at the vents, then at the trembling, sobbing Shrimpo. "Go without me," Flyte growled, his voice trembling with a new, dark resolve. "Flyte, no! You're going to die!" Shrimpo reached out, but Flyte used his shoulder to shove him forcefully into the elevator. With a sharp, precise nudge of his head, Flyte slammed the 'Close' button. "FLYTE!" Shrimpo’s scream was cut off as the heavy steel doors sealed him in. Flyte stood alone in the dark, the rhythmic scratching of Bassie’s wires echoing through the walls. He wasn't dead yet. He looked at the hanging vent where Flutter had been taken, his jaw setting into a hard, grim line. He wasn't leaving until he found them.