we're back

my grandparents from georgia are staying with us

sweet ol georgeia

(the state)

~

"So this boy's out back, behind the bar.. he's a good boy, he called a car. You got 2 motherfuckers in a big white van..

One dumb friend and one mean man."

His leather jacket is wrapped tight, the only protection against the snarling cold. It nips and bites at him, attempting for any morsel of warmth it possibly can grab.

His über is late, for some reason. His wings shake, adjusting their feathers automatically.

If it wasn't this night, if he wasn't looking so far forward, if he wasn't slightly tipsy, he would've seen it.

A bit of white creeping in his vision.

"Well, he'll fucking kill you. He wins every fight, he's gonna rock your shit by the end of the night."

There wasn't much of a struggle. Just a pair of bunny ears, slamming him into the ground. He screamed, wings pressed deep against the dirty concrete. Tears prick his eyes. There's a knife, blood.

He desperately searches for anything self-defense he can remember.

Nothing works.

"And the only advantage that a killer has.."

He's shoved into the van, grabbed by someone in a blue shirt that hangs loosely.

"Is they think they have the right."

"FUCKING RESTRAIN HIM, TAURTIS."

"jesus christ you self-center bra-"

"GRIAN."

Grian startles, throwing off his headphones and whipping around in his chair to see Pearl, glaring down at him.

"I've been trying to get your attention for five straight minutes. Is this another one of those phony crime podcasts?"

Grian glances at his phone, which has spotify open to the Watchling's newest episode.

"It's not phony!"

Pearl sighs, burying her face in her hands.

"You need to stop listening to increasingly disturbing things right before you go to bed. Besides, you're loud and Jimmy can hear when you gasp or laugh. Why are you laughing, by the way?"

Grian just looks down, at his book- he'd been studying for the upcoming exams. It was almost his final year in college; he was almost free from educational hell.

"Look, I'll quiet down- besides! It's all fake and pretend, I know that!"

Pearl glares at her little brother, sighing again.

"Fine. Just get to bed soon, damnit."

She exits. Grian pops the headphones back on.

◉

"And apparently, Jim, his last words were.."

He snarls, standing up straighter. The bodies beneath him are warm, fresh blood still bubbling and flowing.

"You know, Taurtus & Grian sit together in hell,"

He kicks a body.

"Shaking, quaking, terrified.. that one day, somehow, someway.."

He dusts his pants off, dropping the knife into the ground. It digs in to the dirt with a satisfying smack. 

"They might see me."

-> Next episode.

"God, Tom, this is the dramatic one- an abduction."

"I have the newspaper, Jim! An interview, looks like.."

"Well, read it, damn it."

"They took our siblings away from home, they're in the End, they're all alone.."

He was helpless, begging the police with flared yellow wings to find his siblings. He can't go on without them.

It's not fair-

She gasps, staring at her brother. He's sobbing in the corner, wings bright purple. It's wrong, it's so wrong-

"The chains are heavy and the binding is tight."

She tries to pull him up, up and away, only to find tight chains.

A voice sounds behind her.

"Tied by a monster,"

The figure is large. It looms over her with a sick grin, magic bubbling at its finger tips.

"And his oblivious wife."

There's another one, also in a corner, watching with fear that strikes through their purple eyes.

She screams.

◉

"You know, Jim? I think this next case is the worst one.."

"What's it about..?"

"A highschool... diary entry."

Words in black cursive grace the page, tip of the hastily assembled feather rough against the page. There's a cut on his cheek. The bandage isn't doing a good job of stopping the bleeding.

'Sam Gladiator was never that fucking bright.. he's just sort of charismatic and white, alright?'

He reflects for a moment, thinking on it. Possibly a memory?

'And he was so fucking sure he has the right... but he's ugly,'

There's steps behind the boy. He freezes, adjusting his wings and seat. The steps fade.

'There's no fucking candle in his pumpkin head!'

The words are getting angrier, ink splattered across the page.

'You're not special for winning a game with someone who you know was never playing.'

It seems more personal to him, in a ratty blue shirt that's torn and ripped and bloody.

"This reminds me of and earlier case, that one where a guy kidnapped those two kids.. The witness statement afterwards, it was a little flimsy so we didn't include it.."

"The testimony that he could fight? That the kill was unrealistic, because he would've struck in self defense?"

"Yeah.."

(You just caught her off guard tonight..)

There's a silence on the podcast for a second. Grian pauses it, disturbed. Something about, about the descriptions of the shirt and the journal made Grian shudder.

He could feel the blood on his arms, the torn nature of the clothes.

Grian picks up the phone, checking the podcast's description. It feels way, way too real to be fake. Like, way too real. It's the same as always, some bullshit about other universes.

THE WATCHLING:

Created by Jim & Tom

"Throughout the universes, there is one strand that always stays the same, despite the differences and changes and harsh conditions.

Crime.

In this podcast, we explore those crimes- that span generations, centuries, and worlds. Come, Watch with us."

Grian desperately scrolled, trying to find a disclaimer, a joke, anything that said this was fake.

Nothing. Just the words underneath, a tiny warning.

"All we do is Watch."

There's that word again, Watch.

That has to be important. Why is it always capitalized? Grian shook off the last of the weird, wretched feeling, clicking on an episode with the word in the title.

'Eternally Watching: The cult & the forest.'

◉

"One of our young turned up last night', is what the official police report starts with.."

Running, running through the woods. Now that Grian's focusing on the podcast instead of his work, he's immersed.

Too far.

"'They found the body, but not his eyes.."

He slowed, falling and crashing into the ground.

The darkness consumes him for a second before he can see again.

He's..

...

There's a body beneath him. It's wearing a purple sweater.

"They said, ' someone new has gone up!'"

There's something behind him.

'Hello, little empire. We have been waiting for you.'

Grian spins around, staring at something. They have thousands of wings and eyes that stare down at him, harshly judging but soft and welcoming at the same time.

Grian has seen this person before- glimpses of dark walls and ripped pages, dramatic summonings and horrible words.

Why does he remember this?

He shouldn't remember this. He's a college student who lives with his two siblings. There's no harsh words or people, no knives or ink or sobbing.

Grian's life is fine.

These Grian's lives aren't fine. They have to be him, because why else would he be able to See it all?

'Little empire, you should stop looking into things you don't know about..'

Grian looked up at the creature again, who was staring him down again.

"Why can I see it, see it all? I'm not this person, I didn't live through these things-"

'.... You didn't.

They Did.'

Grian backed up. He wanted out, out, out-

The phone clattered off the desk. The vision, the memory or whatever, faded. Grian was sweating.

Abandoning his studies, Grian exits his room. Pearl can help, yes, Pearl. She's the oldest, she'll know what to do. Barging into her room, Pearl looks up from her bed, blinking.

"griba?"

"Pearl, Pearl, the podcast- it was speaking to me and it was talking about jumping universes and I remembered things, thing that didn't happen.. Pearl, I don't think it's fake."

Grian was already at her bedside, wings half-flared as Pearl processed.

"Oh, grian.. you're just sleepy. Making things up. You should head to sleep."

"yeah.."

It was fake. He was working himself up for no reason. He should go to bed, sleep will help.

It was fake.

It was fake.

Was it fake?

Grian falls into his soft bed, crawling into the warm sheets.

He falls into a dream instead.

◉

I listen to a lot of true crime,

"Xelqua."

"who- who are you?"

The world flickers, like it can't decide what environment to land on. The soft air of the day turns to the tilted cold of the first night.

And I listen to it at night

"I am one of the only constants in your life."

"Why do I see what I do? Why do I know these things, why can I feel it in my bones?"

I like the girl-talk vibes,

"You, you are special.. no matter what,"

They make me feel alright

"You always Watch."

The world disappears.

I like scary stories in the morning,

Besides Grian, on the table, there's his phone.

And I like 'em at night

The podcast is still open. 

I like the girl talk vibes

It's been waiting, still and laggy.

They make me feel just fine

Autoplay loads.

I listen to a lot of true crime

The episode finally starts playing.

~

50/50