I used to think traffic jams were the worst thing that could happen on a trip. Sitting there, surrounded by rows and rows of cars that refused to move, I remember tapping my fingers against the dashboard and sighing dramatically. “We could’ve finished three lesson plans by now,” I said, half-joking, half-serious. Giga glanced over at me from her seat, her usual calm expression barely shifting. “Or,” she said, “we could enjoy not working for five minutes.” I leaned back, flicking my tail. “I like working.” “I know,” she said, a little smile tugging at her face. “That’s the problem.” I nudged her shoulder. “Rude.” The road ahead didn’t move. Not even an inch. Cars were just… sitting there. Engines off, doors left half-open. I questioned it for a minute, but I figured there was just some accident up ahead and Scratchers decided to record it. “…Maybe we should walk?” I suggested. She looked at the road, then back at me, and shrugged. “We’re not getting anywhere like this.” So we got out. I remember waving the bus driver goodbye. He tried to keep us on, but we declined. We're kinda the "big cheese" around here, if you get what I mean. We usually did this, since we'd get raided by paparazzi. I guess that comes when you're the mayor, huh? We started walking down the highway, passing abandoned vehicles. Some had their doors cracked open. Others were just… left running out of fuel, silent now. There wasn't an accident in front of us like I thought before. “Did we miss something?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light. “Like, a holiday? ‘Everyone Leave Their Car Day’?” Giga didn’t answer right away. “…I don’t think so,” she said quietly. The closer we got to the city, the worse it felt. Not louder, not chaotic, just… wrong. When we finally crossed into Scratch City, I stopped walking, my breath caught before I even realized why. Bodies. They were everywhere. Not moving. Not reacting. Just… there. Some looked like they had tried to run. Others looked like they hadn’t even gotten the chance. "..What.. what happened?" Giga stepped a little closer to me, her eyes scanning everything, slower now. “I don’t know,” she said. “But we should be careful.” Careful. Right. I swallowed, forcing myself to move again, “This doesn’t make sense,” I muttered, more to myself than to her. “There should be people—there should be something—” A sound cut me off. Soft. Almost like… laughter. Giga stiffened. “Did you hear that?” “..Oh, thank goodness! We gotta help them!" "Scratch--! Wait!" We followed it. That was mistake number one. It echoed between buildings, bouncing in a way that made it hard to tell where it was coming from. But it was there—light, giggly, almost familiar. And then we saw him. “…Pico?” I said. Relief hit first, it had to. My brain didn’t know what else to do, but then it caught up. He was… wrong. Too tall. Not just tall—stretched. His arms hung too low, brushing against the ground in uneven jerks. His legs bent at angles that didn’t make sense, like they were still deciding what shape they wanted to be. I could see his arms and legs were covered in... something. His hands formed pitch-black claws that I had to squint to see. And his face—I couldn’t see it. Not really. Just… movement. Something writhing where his features should’ve been, constantly shifting, like it couldn’t settle... except for one thing. A smile. White, too clean... ...Too perfect. “Oh!” he chirped, his voice breaking slightly in the middle like it had too many layers. “Hey! Hey—hey, you guys made it back!” My chest tightened, because I knew that was his voice, but at the same time it wasn’t. I couldn't understand. How did this even happen? “Pico,” I said carefully, taking a small step forward. “What happened here?” He tilted his head too far to one side, twitching as he did. “Happened?” he echoed, like the word was funny. “Nothing bad happened! It’s—” he giggled, cutting himself off, “—it’s actually really good.” Giga shifted beside me. “Scratch, we need to go.” But I couldn’t look away. This was one of my best friends, and now he's.. this. I had to know, is Tera okay? Nano, Gobo? “What do you mean..? Pico, where's the others? Is the HQ okay!?" He ignored my question, and took a step closer. No—lunged might’ve been a better word, even though it looked casual. “It feels amazing,” he said, voice softening into something almost dreamy. “Like everything’s finally… right. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”
His arm twitched, then jerked, then stilled again. “You should try it.” Something cold crawled up my spine. “…Pico,” I said, slower now, “you’re not making sense.” “I am!” he insisted, a little too quickly. “I am, you just—” He stopped, then laughed again, as if all of this was funny to him, like all of this was a joke. “Oh—oh, wait—” his voice dropped into a whisper, conspiratorial, “—you don’t have it yet.” Before I could react— he moved. His arm snapped forward, grabbing Giga before either of us could process it. There was a sickening sound as she hit the ground, the impact knocking the air out of her. “Giga!” I shouted, reaching for her—but something black and writhing surged along his arm, and it started to shake. Violently. She gasped, her voice catching as she tried to pull away. “S-Scratch—!” The thing spread. I could see it under her skin—moving, crawling, twisting. My stomach flipped violently. “Stop!” I yelled, stepping forward. “Pico, stop, you’re hurting her!” He froze, and slowly turned toward me. For a minute I swore I could've saw.. something in his face. I don't know what it could've been, but it wasn't whatever this thing's doing to him. “Oh,” he said softly, almost gently. “I’m helping her.” “No, you’re not—!” “She’ll feel better,” he insisted, his voice trembling with something that almost sounded like excitement. “Just like I do.” Giga cried out, her arm jerking violently now. That snapped something in me. I grabbed her, pulling her back, dragging her away from him as hard as I could. “Come on!” I said, breath shaking. “We have to go!” For a second— just a second— he didn’t follow. So we ran. We ducked behind the first thing we could find—an old tourist bus, rusted and abandoned, its windows cracked, doors broken open with blood smeared across the paint. I pulled Giga down with me, pressing us both low against the ground. Her breathing was uneven. Her arm— I couldn’t look at it for long. It was still moving. Not her. It. “Quiet,” I whispered, even though I wasn’t sure if she could hear me over her own panic. I gently covered her mouth, then mine, trying to keep both of us quiet. Outside, I could hear him. “…Scratch?” Pico called, his voice lilting, almost playful. “Where’d you go?” My chest tightened painfully. Deep down, I knew this thing was changing him. I knew.. that maybe Pico wasn't coming back. “You don’t have to hide,” he continued. “I can help you too.” I squeezed my eyes shut. Don’t respond. Don’t move. Don’t— “C’mon,” he sing-songed, his voice echoing too close now. “You always wanted to help people, right? This helps everyone.” My stomach churned. How did it know? Beside me, Giga trembled. I didn’t know if it was fear, or something else. Footsteps. Closer. Then— silence. I opened my eyes too soon. He was right there. The window above us darkened as his shape leaned over it, that same white smile pressing against the cracked glass. “Oh,” he said softly. “There you are.” Everything broke. He reached in—too fast to react—and grabbed Giga, yanking her out from behind the bus like she weighed nothing. She hit the ground hard, a strangled cry leaving her. “Scratch!” she shouted, reaching for me. “Help me—please—!” I couldn’t move. My body just… stopped. My mind screamed at me to do something—anything—but it was like I was locked inside myself, watching it happen from too far away. My body was hyperfocused on Pico. His smile, the way he handled her like she was a ragdoll, the way he didn't seem to care. Pico loomed over her, twitching, that awful laugh bubbling up again. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “This won’t hurt for long.” “Scratch!” she cried again, her voice breaking. “Don’t just—stand there!” I tried, I swear I tried, but my legs wouldn’t listen. My hands wouldn’t move. All I could see was that thing wearing my friend’s voice. All I could hear was her screaming my name. And then— I ran. I didn’t think. I didn’t decide. I just— ran. Behind me, her voice followed. “Scratch! Wait—!” It cut off suddenly. I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t, because somewhere, deep down, in the part of me that still understood what was happening— I knew. Giga wasn’t coming back. And if I stopped— neither was I.
