Beetle's Nest
"What is it?"
"It's a Dove's." Emily states simply, arms folded across her chest. She doesn't emphasize that it's the quinque of a woman she tortured then shared with Mike. Matt sits beside her, knees pressed to his chest as he regards the silver briefcase uncomfortably. There's a question in his face but the answer is there too, Matt's lips pinching in bitter acknowledgement.
Emily is glad that he understands, that she doesn't have to worry as much about him as much as she has to worry about Chris. Matt sighs heavily. He looks at her, unsmiling, face devoid of the usual softness. It's hard, crystallized fear situated between his teeth and Emily reaches out to touch his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Matt."
Matt sighs, running a hand down his face. "It's fine. Not your fault."
"Mike knows so he'll be by later."
Josh's bedroom door cracks open, said owner stumbling out, button up crisp and navy, a knit cardigan falling off his shoulders. He rubs his eyes furiously, two notebooks tucked under his arm, and pulls his bedroom door closed, jumping when he notices them.
"Oh. Sorry." Josh ducks his head, rounding the table. He squeezes Matt's shoulder as he passes, nodding towards Emily and he's gone, the soft click of the front door filling the silence.
Matt turns to her. "We can't leave?"
"We could." Emily nods but her mind is already calculating how far they could actually go with the Doves closing in. Jack Fessenden was here but there had been no movement from him, only whispers on Predator's Anonymous and how Patrick Zippy murdered a Dove at the fall festival, taking four humans with him. There was a body count, some double digit number, but Emily didn't bother reading. Ashley told her to be safe. Emily told her to go fuck herself.
"So let's go." Matt stresses, placing his feet on the ground. "Jess will go where you go. Mike doesn't care so he'll leave to. I don't know about Ashley but if you asked Chris, he'd come to. You know that."
Emily does. She also knows that Chris wouldn't leave Josh behind and as much as she prides herself on having raised him, Emily knows if Josh stayed, Chris would too because it's who he is and she would also stay because it's who she is.
"I'll talk to him." Emily says instead of what she knows Matt doesn't want to hear. She rises to her feet, palms pressing into the table. Matt places a hand over hers.
"If you stay, obviously I will too."
Emily glances at him, his palm warm and heavy over her skin. She moves away, touching his shoulder lightly. Matt sighs, mouth twisted up and pathetic. Emily wonders if he'll cry. She's only seen it once; him trembling over her with blood in his teeth, the dead body of a Dove not too far from them. Matt had cried. Matt had killed someone for her.
"I know." Emily bends down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "It's why we've been friends for so long."
Matt forces out a chuckle. "Yeah."
"I'll come by later." Emily tells him. She needed to see Chris, preferably Jess as well. Matt nods, touches her elbow as she goes and remains seated at the table, eyes locked on the briefcase.
Emily walks home, the tease of snow in the air, chilled, brittle breeze flowing by every so often. She wraps her scarf a little higher, mind buzzing with fog and empty plans. Arguably, they could leave, pack up tonight, be on the train to anywhere tomorrow but Emily didn't know where they'd go, where they'd end up. It didn't sit well with her, not knowing, absent thoughts that feel a lot like acknowledgement.
Emily takes the stairs instead of the elevator, tensing up when she smells another ghoul in the building; it's not Chris, not robust enough, too mellow and cold. Emily pauses at the exit, staring through the clear glass of the stairway. She breathes.
They've noticed her.
Emily pushes the door open, hands fisted at her sides, kagune tickling in her waist.
YoungHa smiles, posture relaxed, yellow eyes amused and pleasant. A red poncho hangs over their shoulders, the loose frills of a black skirt stopping just before their bare feet. They're standing in front of Chris' apartment door.
"I wonder if you two will ever separate."
Emily doesn't say anything, taking a step forward. YoungHa takes a step back, folding a hand over their abdomen, tilting forward.
"I am not here to fight, Emily." YoungHa states. "I'm merely... curious."
"You people aren't curious." Emily responds.
YoungHa grins. "Oh you are correct. But I am. You understand? How is it that the boy who cringes at the mere idea of hunting humans can devour one of our own so easily? Hm?"
Emily had no response for that, the words dying on her tongue. She could say he was hungry, starving, two months past the due date but what did that mean to a Goat? What did it mean to another ghoul when everyone knows there was a human present that could've died instead?
YoungHa regards her curiously. "Ah, you are also perplexed." A giggle. "Have you read the reports? In Japan? About the cannibalizing one eyed ghoul?"
Yes. "No."
"Pity." YoungHa clicks their teeth. "I'd hate for your precious boy to succumb to such a madness. I wonder how it is. How it tastes. Ghouls. Have you wondered?"
"No." Emily grinds out, skin crawling at the thought. She's never considered eating another ghoul.
"It's a way to power." YoungHa adds. "Intense, insurmountable amounts of power. It's an interesting thing to consider. Sacrifice in the name of progress. Cannibalism in the name of consuming. Isn't that what humans say? Harvest the enemy, gain their power? Are ghouls enemies to another ghoul?"
Emily isn't sure what to say, what YoungHa is implying but their stare sets Emily's insides ablaze, eyes cold and knowing. YoungHa smiles again.
"Food for thought. I'll take my leave. Take care, Emily. We'll be in town for a while."
Emily watches them go, steps fluid and unbothered. She tracks their smell until it disappears, body unable to relax or cool down. Her mind frazzles, teeth grinding together, hands clenched into fists.
"Fuck." Emily bites out. "F-Fucking. Fuck. Fuck."
Emily waits outside Chris' apartment until he comes home, legs folded underneath her as she sits on the nasty, pigmented floor. Laughter reaches her ears, vaguely registering and categorizing whose is whose and it doesn't surprise her when Josh is with Chris.
Chris' smile drops, alarm filtering through his body and her expression must remind him of something, of someone because Chris is rushing up to her, those red veins already spreading from his eyes, teeth clenched tight.
"What happened? Are you okay?" Chris kneels down beside her, placing a thick hand on her shoulder. Emily isn't sure what to say, no quip or watered down fire biting at her tongue.
Josh stands near them, nervously glancing around. His shoulders are hunched, defensive like a spring trap wound up to far. Emily forces herself to look at Chris, taking in the beginning paleness, that slight rumble of hunger deep in his veins.
Emily wonders if Chris notices. The subtle changes, a constant worrying nag that keeps making you look over your shoulder, icky nerves that feel a lot like fire, dread and sinking and Emily notices, the way their tiny home, their city is shrinking and evaporating under their fingertips.
Or maybe he doesn't, Emily's known him for too long to not notice when Chris is refusing to acknowledge anything. He's snapped on her twice now, those familiar blackened eyes lit up like fireworks in July. Chris always apologizes. Emily wishes he'd realize he never has to with her.
"Can he leave?" Emily asks.
Chris hesitates briefly before nodding. He stands, turning to Josh. "Rain check?"
Josh's gaze flickers between them. He nods slowly, patting the side of Chris' arm as he heads back towards the elevator. Chris watches him go. He turns back to Emily.
"We need to talk."
Chris bristles, "Look, Em. I'm not-"
"Chris. Please."
There are days when Emily thinks they've been brought up too differently, that those 12 years before their chance meeting had shaped and formed them into two different kinds of monsters. Today isn't one of them, Chris' acceptance of her invitation weighing heavily in the way he holds himself. He holds out his hand.
Emily takes it.
"What was so important that I had to reschedule Cowboy Bebop and chill?"
Emily raises an eyebrow at him, steady hands unbuttoning her blouse. She's standing in front of Chris, face passive and thoughtful, eyes turned to the ceiling. Emily scoffs.
"It's not even that good. It's mostly filler."
Chris gasps softly. "Okay but-"
"It's not that good, Christopher." Emily cuts him off with a swipe of her hand, shrugging black the black fabric off her shoulders. Chris averts his eyes, tapping the arms of the recliner he's sitting in. It's smooth white leather, complimenting nearly every piece of deep chestnut furniture Emily has situated around her apartment. A folded card from Jess sits on her window ledge, beautiful handwriting peaking out from the inside.
"Does Josh like it?"
Chris turns to her. "Like what?"
Emily rolls her eyes, "Cowboy Bebop."
Chris stammers, a blush creeping up his neck and Emily smirks, shimmying out of her dark jeans. She gestures to a spot on his neck, Chris' hand flying up to clamp over it, hot with embarrassment.
"He must've bit hard."
"Oh my god, Emily. Please."
Emily chuckles, wandering over to her closet, reaching around to snap her bra. She slides it down her arms, absently tossing it aside as she thumbs through a new outfit, something darker, something boring.
"I can smell him on you." Emily says as if noticing Chris' growing panic. "It's not hard. You smell like a human, Chris."
"I can't help it." Chris huffs. "He's hot."
Emily nods, fighting back a smile. She tries to think of the last time Chris seemed this into anyone, this embarrassed or frazzled. It makes her feel a bit motherly, a bit like she's years older than him.
"As long as it isn't Ashley." Emily comments, yanking a crop top off a hanger. She tugs it on, adjusting and angling until her chest feels tight.
"You've got to get over that. It's not healthy."
"You definitely have no right to talk to me about healthy." Emily snorts, turning to him. "It's been almost a month."
Chris tenses. "It's fine. No big deal, Em."
"You said that last time and look what happened."
"I got a hot date?"
Emily glares at him, annoyance prickling under her fingernails. YoungHa's words rest in her mind, fresh and throbbing.
"Did you know her name?"
"Who?"
"The ghoul you ate."
Chris looks up at her, mouth falling open, expression so painful. It closes off, Chris clamping down and Emily can hear the way his teeth grind into one another. She waits, has learned patience is a good way of getting him to talk.
Emily leans back against her bed, hands coming to rest in her lap. She regards him closely, studiously calculating each vein twitch, each uncomfortable lip bite.
"No." Chris admits quietly. "I didn't recognize her at all."
"You need to eat."
"Em-"
"I expected a lot from you, Chris, but none of it involved you being so far gone that you pick apart someone just like us."
"It could've been Josh." Chris defends weakly. He stares down at his hands. "I..It could've been him."
"But it wasn't. And if you fucking listened it wouldn't be anyone who wasn't already dead."
A pause. "Yeah. I know."
"What if it was someone stronger than you, Chris? What if.." You didn't come back and Emily would be left here alone with only remnants of him, rotting and dusting next door. Emily doesn't say that, lets her words hang in the air until Chris looks up at her again. He looks miserable, sullen and pissy and she knows it's not what he wants to hear or think about but they can't both be idiots.
"Ok."
"I'll call Mike." Emily says, straightening. She moves towards her bedroom door, pausing when Chris' hand reaches out to grab her wrists. He looks embarrassed.
"W-Will you come with me?" Chris asks meekly. "Last time, it didn't go very well. Obviously."
"I literally just took off my bra, Christopher." Emily bitches but she snatches her hand away and walks back to her closet. She tries to complain as she dresses but nothing comes to mind.
Chris is waiting by the front door when she reemerges, texting rapidly on his cell phone. The screen was still badly cracked, nasty looking splinters of glass.
"Texting the lover boy?"
Chris blushes, quickly locking his phone. "Shut up, Emily."
"It's gross."
"You and Jess aren't much better."
"We're prettier."
Chris looks like he's about to argue, mouth opening then closing, brow furrows. He shrugs, nodding slowly before bumping Emily's shoulder roughly. It reminds her of when they were kids, just Chris doesn't sport as many freckles as he used to, holds himself a bit taller.
Chris catches her staring as they stand in the elevator, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Stop."
"What?" Emily blinks innocently.
"You're staring."
"Can you prove it?"
Chris gapes, "I can fucking feel my skin melting. You're staring, Em."
Emily clicks her tongue. "Seems like you have very little evidence to support your claim."
Chris raises his hands in disbelief. There's a smile, faint, barely a movement of lips. He lets her off first, grumbling under his breath about how proof is bullshit. Emily considers responding, listens to his soft bitching the entire time they walk to Etcetera and bites back a smile.
"Why are you laughing?" Chris pouts.
"I'm not."
"You are. Your jaw twitched. I'm an expert on nonverbal communication with Emily."
Emily groans. "Please don't talk like that."
"I can't help-"
Chris knocks into a nearby building, a gust of wind forced between them as Emily dodges a projected red spike. It nearly catches her, slicing across the front of her shirt as she leans back.
Emily can hear Chris coughing, eyes narrowing dangerously as another spike darts through the growing darkness and smoke. Her kagune rips out of her waist, silver tentacle deflecting each hardened strike. The visibility is poor, sounds of crumbling brick filling her ears, flashes of white on blue, sparking and quick.
Emily huffs, annoyed, focusing on the trajectory of the spikes. More narrow misses, Emily's brain quickly scanning the mist, lining up the shots of red and-
Emily steps to the side, kagune darting out. It connects with skin, a shrill cry filling the air as the snap of bone follows. The mist grows clear, Chris panting a few feet away from her, face devoid of glasses, whitened disjointed bone curling along his right side.
Emily stills, not recognizing the shape his kagune has taken. It's deformed, edgeless warped replica, hardened and solid like the formation of a cocoon. A low giggle pulls Emily from her thoughts.
There's a woman, blackened eyes wild, red veins webbing her eyes. Her smile is wide, bright, gums bloodied and pink. An armored kagune rests on her shoulder, jagged and bulky, reptilian scales cascading along the sharp point that parallels her arm. A man comes to stand beside her, eyes hollow and tired, spiked translucent red wings sprouting from his back. His shoulder is hacked up, cells rushing to meld the skin back together.
"If it isn't the Spider." The woman smiles.
Chris glances at Emily. "Really? That's what they call you?"
"Please, let's not." Emily says curtly. She moves towards him slowly, kagune writhing through the air. "What the fuck is up with your arm?"
"I don't know." Chris whispered hurriedly. "It's all very new to me."
"Fucking Christ, Christopher."
The woman clears her throat, impatience rolling off her in waves. "We have no business with you. We're after him."
Chris stiffens. Emily grabs his hand. The man's eyes narrow sharply, wings pointing upward.
"We received word that he killed our sister."
Oh, fuck. Emily glances back at Chris, whose face is slowly morphing from wary to horrified acknowledgment.
"We will not hesitate to kill you if you interfere." The man says. Emily nearly laughs, bristling.
"Two on two sounds like fun."
The woman's eyes narrow, arm flexing as she readies her stance. The two exchange a look. Emily squeeze Chris' hand, ignoring the hesitant look he's wearing. She releases it, another pair of tentacles pressing out.
The man springs into the air, wings fluttering beautifully red and he charges down the same time the woman darts towards them, shoulder cocked back, the sharpened of her kagune raised for him. She's nearly as fast as the other, kicking up dirt with her heels. Emily registers the attack, mind forming a counter and she pushes Chris to the side, exchanging a quick glance.
It's a slow moment, a quiet passing of energy and time but Chris nods in understanding, rinkaku spreading out from his waist and it's been years since Emily's seen him use both kagunes at the same time. It never fails to mesmerize her.
Emily takes the woman, deflecting each quick swing. There's no power behind it, no strong opposing force and she knows this woman, this avenger is not as skilled as other's Emily has fought before. Emily smashes her kagune into the woman's face, her head knocking backwards, nose bloodied, a low howl escaping her lips.
Emily wraps a tentacle around the woman's ankle, yanking roughly. She lifts, letting it squeeze and crush bone until the woman is screaming and dangling in the air. It's a sickening sound, Emily thinks smashing the woman into the pavement. She repeats the gesture over and over until there's a bloodied patch where her face should be, limbs twitching, words garbled and angry.
"N-No!" The voice is unfamiliar to her, which means it must be the man, head turning as her tentacles slowly pull the woman apart. He's charging at Emily from the air, eyes wild with tears and anger. She wonders how much he's lost in the past month.
Emily smirks, ready to counter, ready to smack another fly from the sky until she sees it, a flurry of clouded blue, scales darker than she remembers them being, the hot fire that burns in familiar blackened eyes.
Chris is soaring through the air after the man, kagune swishing like a broken spine, jagged and Emily stares in awe when the two men collide, the startled expression on the man's face sizzled into her mind, eyes growing wide when Chris' teeth bite into his throat.
Emily gasps, raising a hand to her mouth, horror scraping along her mind. It sounds a lot like nails down a chalkboard, a lot like screaming and she can't stop watching, watching as Chris rips out the man's spine, that deformed, strange kagune digging through the man's stomach as he gurgles and sobs.
"No, no! Kenny!"
Emily jumps, startled. She completely forgot about the woman, her body mostly regenerated and moving, shoulder cocked back once again, just she's not aiming for Emily but for Chris, Chris who is wearing an expression Emily has only seen once before, when the Doves came for his parents and he tried to defend them.
Emily blinks, the only word her mind can form is interesting. It repeats over and over until it bleeds into her subconscious. Emily cuts the woman off, sprinting forward, four tentacles raised high and shooting out. The woman struggles, crying desperately as they hold her to the ground.
YoungHa said power came from eating another ghoul. What power? Chris' kagunes were different, he was different. Emily kneels over the woman's chest, watching it heave, blood spreading along the front of her chest. Emily's eyes meet hers.
"P-Please."
They wanted her family. They wanted to take Chris away. Would they come after Jess? Matt? It's a juvenile idea but it hurts to think about, makes her want to vomit. Emily frowns, anger flaring up inside her. They couldn't have them. They couldn't have them.
"Unacceptable."
Emily registers every expression, every pained howl and broken, ugly sob but her hands don't stop, prying and pulling at bone and how the blood squelches under her fingernails.
It's tough, rubbery texture but it melts along her throat when it slides down, soupy and warm, filing away under her skin and it's good, it's so good. Almost human, bitter in taste but there's a fine sweetness, it lingers and grows inside her stomach. Emily imagines this is what 'comfort food' tastes like.
"Em. Em, we gotta go." Chris is shaking her shoulder, voice sounding distant and far away. He wipes her mouth with his sleeve, gingerly smoothing away bits of gore, eyes filled with regret. Emily clasps his hand tightly. She can hear the sirens.
"Why did you do it?" Emily asks. "Why did you eat her?"
Chris pauses, gaze dropping. "It could've been Josh."
Emily understands. "Why did you eat him?"
Chris looks up, eyes meeting hers. "It could've been you."
"Oh," Emily says, unable to find words and her mouth feels sour. She feels sick, the moment passing and she holds Chris' hand tightly. Emily blinks back tears.
"We gotta go, Em."
Chris helps Emily to her feet, not commenting when her legs shake. The sirens are getting closer but Emily barely registers it, glancing back at the woman's body. It does regenerate, kagune ripped from her insides, lying broken and shriveled on the ground.
Jess' apartment is closer so they head there, sticking to the tops of buildings, creeping along generators and outside gardens until Emily taps at Jess' bedroom window. Chris stands close to her, head pressed into Emily's shoulder as he heaves a sigh. Emily reaches down to squeeze his hand.
Jess beams, smiling broadly when she answers the window. Her smile wavers then falls, eyes roaming over their bloodied clothes. She must see something on Emily's face she isn't used to because Jess lets them in without a word, sitting down on her bed as she watches them shed their clothes, Chris letting Emily shower first with guilty expression that makes her sick.
Emily can faintly hear them talking under the spray of the shower, distinct words like attacked and sorry. She almost smiles when she sees her usual bottles of shampoo and conditioner, her name written in a familiar scrawl of peach sharpie.
Emily works it through her hair, watching the water run red, blackened clots rolling down her legs. She ate a ghoul. It was a strange thought, almost as interesting as Chris eating one but it doesn't hold the same merit. Emily ate a ghoul.
Why?
Emily says family but the back of her mind says power. YoungHa said power, the seed was planted.
Oh.
Emily worries her bottom lip, the chalky texture of wet lipstick dragging along her teeth. She uses Jess' face wash, already cringing at how damn dry her face is going to be but it smells like Jess, like spring, like jasmine in July.
Jess is waiting on her bed when Emily emerges in a towel. Chris whistles, still naked but most of the blood has been wiped away, Jess' nice hand towels stained red. Jess eyes Chris, a humored smile on her face.
"Go take a shower, you're gross." Jess giggles. Chris concedes, hands covering his bits when Emily raises an eyebrow at him. He wiggles past her, cheeks bright red and slams the door closed. Emily turns to Jess, the smile on her girlfriend's face gone.
"You smell like a ghoul." Jess says.
"We were attacked."
"Just attacked?" Jess asks, watching Emily pat the water from her skin. Emily nods, unsure of what to say, if she should say anything. She steals a shirt from Jess' closet, tugging on a pair of sweats that smell like Matt.
"Emily."
"What, Jess?"
Jess fidgets restlessly. She glances down at her knees, toes wiggling. Emily folds her arm across her chest, regarding Jess quietly. She can hear Chris drop a bottle, his low curse following.
"Em...Never mind." Jess forces a smile. "Are you staying the night?"
"I probably shouldn't." Emily answers and she wished she didn't feel so on edge, so bland and shaky. Jess is staring at her, soft eyes round and pretty and Emily runs a hand down her face.
"We don't have to talk." Jess says, rising to her feet. She walks up to Emily, smooth hands sliding along Emily's skin, folding along her wrist, up, up. Jess touches Emily's elbows, eyes downcast and warm.
"I'm your girl, Em." Jess whispers, hands coming to rest on Emily's shoulders. "We don't have to talk about anything. Just.. stay."
"Ok," it comes out like a sigh, Emily's arms moving to slide around Jess torso. She holds her close, listens to the tick tick of her heart and breathes.
"I'm glad you and Chris are alright."
"Me too."