Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darry made his sister a cup of ginger tea every day. In the morning, in the evening, late at night with a midnight snack if she woke up asking for it.

Hot water, a dab of honey, and grated ginger root.

Today was no different. He didn’t break from his routine even when he heard screaming outside his kitchen window.

“IT TOOK OUR DOG!”

Darry leaned few inches closer to the window but couldn’t get a good look at his hysterical neighbor.

“IT GOT BAXTER!”

Through all the ruckus, the barking of another dog stuck out the most in their usually quiet neighborhood.

“Give it a rest, Norman!” He muttered as he grabbed his sister’s favorite mug.

A large black ceramic one with a skeleton in the middle, the words INSIDE AND OUT surrounding it. The thing weighed a ton; Darry was sure he grew some extra wrist muscles with how much he carried it around.

He found Trish sitting at the end of her bed, staring at the TV in the basement. She chewed on her hair, not really paying attention to what was happening on screen but also somehow invested.

“You hear about Baxter?” He asked as he walked into their room.

“How can I not?” She grumbled through her locks. “I can hear her through the walls.”

He set her tea down on the tiny dresser between their beds before sitting at the edge of his.

“Why bother even screaming about it? You know? Shouldn’t she just…I dunno, call the cops or something? What’s waking up half the cul-de-sac gonna do? And she sounds like she’s the one who got mutilated.”

Trish scooted back on her bed until she hit the wall and was an arm’s length away from her morning beverage.

“You’ve never had a dog before, so you wouldn’t understand.”

Darry scoffed. “Oh, and you have?”

His sister warmed her hands holding her mug. “She’s probably suffering terribly. Her bones aching, replaying memories of her time with her dog over and over in her head…”

“Have you ever even lost a fish before?”

Trish peered at him over the rim of her mug.  

“You wouldn’t know a damn thing about suffering.”

“Sure, I would! I suffer every day waking up to your face.”

“You brat. If this tea wasn’t so good, I’d pour it on your crouch.”

“Heh! Oh yeah, well...you’re welcome!” He smirked playfully.

She rolled her eyes and drank a few more sips. Their neighbor’s shrill penetrated their walls again. Trish stared up at the ceiling.

“I can’t imagine how much pain she’s in. She probably wants to…take her own life.”

“Well, that wouldn’t solve anything.”

She glared at her little brother. “How dare you.”

“What?”

“You don’t think there’s an afterlife?”

“I don’t think there is if you do it yourself!”

“You don’t know that. If you suffer enough, maybe you can be forgiven.”

“Will you stop saying 'suffering' already?”

She stared at the light brown drink, shaking her head. “I would do it.”

Darry pinched his brow together. “Not this again…”

“If you died before me, I’d die too.”

“Why? Cuz you wouldn’t have anyone to make you tea anymore?”

“I’m serious, Dare!” She brought her glare to him.

He leaned back in his bed, trying to keep his smile. If he smiled, his sister would usually feel happy. Safe. A reminder that there was nothing to worry about.

“I can’t…I couldn’t keep going.” She admitted deeply.

“I wouldn’t want that for you.”

“You’d do it if I went first, wouldn’t you?”

Darry’s stomach sank. “Jeez, sis! Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? Are you hangry? Mom’s got breakfast almost ready upstairs!”

“Why are you such a little shit?”

“One of us has to be! Listen to what you’re saying right now!”

Trish bit her bottom lip.

“You swore, remember? We made a pact. To go together, one way or another.”

He sighed loudly. “Uh, yeah, when we were eight!”

“So? I still remember. Don’t you?” Trish dropped her mug back on the dresser and thrusted her left hand in front of him.

“Out by sixteen or dead at the scene, but together forever.”

“Why do you still know that by heart?”

“Just say it, brat.”

Darry glanced down at the scars etched on his sister’s palm. He pushed himself forward and flipped his left hand over, spotting the same scars marked on his.

His sister raised her eyebrows slightly.

“Together forever?” She huffed impatiently.

Reluctantly, he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“United against life as we know it." 

"Cross our hearts, the whole nine yards.” They declared together.

His sister nodded, squeezing his hand a little harder.

“I’m not going anywhere, Trish.” He whispered delicately.

“I know.”

“Come on.” He nudged his head backward towards their doorway. “Let’s get some fresh air.”

“Okay…Will you grab my gas mask for me?”

X

Trish fastened her military grade ebony survivors mask, patting the filter on the side to check the airflow.

“All good, Darth Vader?” Darry teased behind her.

She threw out a middle finger, making her brother laugh.

“Alright, sis. Lights out in three…two…one!”

He closed the door of their family dark shed in the backyard with his sister locked inside.

He leaned against the side of it and opened a book he was studying for class. Inside the shed, he could hear Trish wailing and hollering at the top of her lungs. He licked the tip of his fingers and flipped through the pages until he found where he left off last.

"This Holden kid is nuts!" He chuckled.

His sister's shrieks went on for almost an hour before they came to a crawling halt, leaving only hefty grunts and heavy breathing in the storage unit. Once she finally caught her breath, Trish rasped gently at the door from the inside.

Darry, having fallen asleep, jolted at the sound. He tore his book off his face and scurried off the grass. He pulled the shed open and stared at his sister, covered and dripping in red liquid.

“You done?” He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

Trish unbuckled the clasp behind her mask before slipping it off her face and handing it to him. 

“Yeah." She let out a pant between a coarse pant. "Go look.”

She stepped out of the hut just as her brother marched in.

X

“Blood boiled with a fire so hot, a hole began to grow on her skin. It festered and festered, covering her once soft and supple flesh with a mixture of dotted splotches and dust!”

Trish clasped the sheet of paper in her hand tightly as she recited the words written on it. She eyed Darry on the other side of an easel covered in a silk quilt and gave him a quick nod.

Their classmates gasped on cue as Darry yanked the covers off, revealing a painting of crimson red stains dotting the entire canvas. No order, no method, only pure chaos.

“She bled until there was nothing left of her! Until she was only gore. Until no one saw her for who she was, but for what she became.”

There was a silence in the room once Trish finished with a huff. The stillness unsettled her. She lowered her head and rushed back to her seat before she could see anyone sneer at her or hear them laugh.

To her surprise, everyone clapped and cheered. Darry bowed to their audience before grabbing the quilt and his sister’s art piece. He was careful with everything as he walked back to his seat next to Trish. He leaned her painting against the wall behind him and started folding the blanket.

Darry gave her a big grin and a thumbs up when she peeked at him behind her veil of hair. She bit her lip to hide the smile that threatened to make an appearance.

Mr. Wayne eyed the siblings suspiciously. He raised his hand.

“Alright, alright, alright!” He ordered. His students obeyed, and the room went quiet.

“Well, that was completely, uh…disturbing, wasn’t it?” He looked for someone—anyone—to agree with him, but the room remained speechless.

Trish shifted in her seat. 

“You know the Jenner siblings clearly worked very…” He couldn’t finish, shaking his head in disbelief. “I-I mean, I…I am completely sickened! Alright? Sickened by that!”

Darry glanced at his sister, who kept her head down sorrowfully. He narrowed his eyes and brought his attention back to their teacher.

“Which part?” He raised his hand.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Wayne blinked in utter shock.

“Which part sickened you?” He titled his head. “Was it the part with paint attached to a canvas, or, uh...a sheet of paper in a teenage girl's hands?”

The class snickered and muttered amongst each other at Darry’s challenge.

“Cut it out, Dare.” Trish whispered through her teeth.

“What? I just wanna know what Mr. Wayne found so disturbing about any of that! I mean, this is an art class, right? A-And isn’t art subjective? Where's the harm here? Where's the foul?”

Mr. Wayne glared at the boy, a fire burning in his stomach.

“See me in the guidance office." He pointed a finger at him. "After class, you two. Separately.”

Darry’s face went pale.  

“Way to go, big mouth…!” Trish exasperated.

He dropped his head on his desk with a thud and a groan. 

“Aye, can we get Trish to read her poem again?” Jason McCardy suggested with a smirk.

The crowd cheered again, bringing a blush across the Jenner sister’s face.

“Hey!” Mr. Wayne roared to bring back order into the room. “Life in Bailey Downs, alright? Who’s next?”

Chapter Text

Jason watched the Junior girls play hockey on the football field, running and jumping around for his erotic pleasure.

“Oh yes, ladies! Run!” He called out them, feeling warm in the chilly weather. “Run for Daddy!”

His eyes scanned over to a pair of siblings on the sidelines.

Trish leaned against Darry’s back on the grass as she doodled in her notebook, staying as far away from the others as they could.

“I think she’s good to go.”

His friends, Jim and Ben, regarded the couple Jason had in his sights.

“You want the Jenner girl?” Jim eyes went large.

“You’re kidding!” Ben’s jaw dropped.

“What?" Jason shrugged. "She’s got this...creepy, mysterious vibe about her that's smokin’ hot. And she's got a nice rack.”

“Yeah, but she comes as a package deal.” Jim brought up frankly.  “You want her, you gotta get her sissy brother, too!”

As if feeling someone talking about her, Trish pulled her gaze from her drawing to peer at the boys on the bleachers.

“Well, I’ll just have to get rid of him, won’t I?” Jason declared as he made eye contact with the Jenner sister.

“Ugh…” Trish grumbled and went back to drawing.

“What?” Darry dipped his head back against hers.

“I think McCardy just checked me.”

He glanced over at them and sure enough, their peepers were honed on them. Or at least…on his sister.

"Ew!" 

Trish bumped the back of her hand on his side, gesturing him to stop staring. He turned away and stared down at his book, but not reading the words.

“You don’t care, though, right?” He chuckled. “Even though they all seem like your type.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!...Only that you usually go for guys that are a little soft around the brain.”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’m just saying, your track record for crushes haven’t been from the brightest bunch of light bulbs.”

“Can you be any more annoying?”

“Yes, I can!”

He could hear her smiling behind his head. He loved being one of the very few people that could do that for her, even if it didn’t last long.

She dropped her notebook and let out a groan, holding her hips as she arched her spine.

“You okay back there?” 

“Yeah, it's just my…back.”

“Did Trish Jenner just make a funny?”

“No, I did not.”

“I think you did!”

“Can you distract yourself with something more interesting, please?”

"Okay, just checking on you."

Darry was too bored with studying to reopen his novel. He noticed a group of girls chatting in a circle a few feet away.

“You think Trina Sinclair knows that wearing makeup during P.E. is a surefire way to get a sty?”

Trish sighed, trying to relax again. “Cut it out, Dare.”

"You told me to find a distraction, so I found one! A very preppy, bubbly...plastically one."

One of Trina's clones, a girl with poufy pigtails, walked behind them slowly, listening in on their conversation.

“Seriously! I mean, what if one of her eyelashes fell out from her sweating off the glue? Boom! Pinkeye for a week!”

His sister bit back a chuckle.

“Or what if her eyeliner melted off and poked her right in the pupil?” Darry added.

“They’d probably just...send her to the nurse’s office.”

“Or the bathroom so she can wipe off all that cake!”

The pigtailed clone whispered something in Trina's ear before giving the Jenner siblings a cold glare.

"You are such a jerk sometimes." Trish murmured.

"Me?!" Darry clenched his hand over his chest where his heart seemingly broke.

"I'm the victim here! Remember that time someone threw a milk carton at the back of my head? She totally threw it!"

"You don't know that, Dare."

"B-Bullshit I don't!" He laughed nervously, stammering over his words in the process. "Out of the whole cafeteria, I swear I heard her laughing the hardest!"

“Let’s go, girls!” Ms. Sykes called everyone back on the field.

“That’s my cue.” Trish pushed herself up. She held out her notebook to her brother as he handed her the hockey stick lying beside them.

"Break a leg!" Darry grinned.

"Behave." His sister poked his forehead.

"Both things we'll never do."

“Fuckin’ bitch.” Trish heard Trina mutter in a not-so-quiet tone. She turned around and found her and her friend's scowls still firmly locked on them.

“Uh oh…” She looked away quickly, bringing her horrified stare to her brother. “Dammit Dare, you loudmouth!”

“What?! I didn’t know The Trinas’ had super sonic hearing!”

“You too, Jenner #2.” The gym teacher beckoned him forward.

“Wha?” Darry’s eyes widened. “But I’m not even in my gym clothes! And...i-isn’t this an all-girls team?”

“You’re out here, you play.” She walked off without another word.

“Shit…” He groaned as he pushed himself off the ground. He shoved Trish’s notebook in his backpack and hurried onto the field.

“Think fast, Darriere!” A girl shouted as she threw a hockey stick at him.

He didn’t catch it in time and the wooden blade struck him square in the face. All the girls laughed as he scrambled to pick it up.

Trish rushed over to him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah…Just sucks that I’m gonna smell like chicken noodle soup before lunch!” He griped.

“I’ll cover you.” She promised with a pat on his back.

“Oh, good!”

The girls separated themselves on the field in their designated teams. They didn’t start the game until Ms. Sykes blew her whistle. The moment she did, the players were off, tossing the tennis ball to each other with light aggression and heightened focus.

“Yeah! Go girls!” The boys cheered from the bleachers.

The players ignored them as best they could, annoyed with but unfortunately used to their catcalling. Darry wasn’t, getting easily distracted by their jeers. He stopped and stared at them with a raised brow.

“Ew! Gross!” The boys turned away, snickering.

"Lame-wads..." Darry grumbled and tried getting back into the game. But something—or someone—threw him off. Off balance and off his feet.

Trina shoved him in the back with a laugh; he fell and landed face first into the dirt. Or what should have been neatly cut grass…

“Oooo!” Jason and his friends shouted, standing up in their seats to get a better look.

“Beast of Bailey Downs strikes again!” Jim commented.

“That’s four dogs this week!” Ben added.

“Whoa! Bo-nus!” Trina giggled to hide her need to gag.

Darry pealed himself off the blood and guts he face-planted in, his stomach performing an uncomfortable dance below him. His hands shook as he stared down at the mutilated dog, its insides painting his skin and clothes.

“Are you okay?” Trish knelt down beside him with a wrinkle in her brow.

“Terrific…!” He wheezed. Anymore words that came out of him would end up mixed of his breakfast.

As she helped him back on his feet, Trish gave Trina an unusually sour look behind her bangs.

“Don’t ever touch my brother again.” She mumbled as she passed by.

“Mind speaking up, freak? I couldn’t hear you!” Trina bumped her hard on the shoulder.

Trish stopped and clenched her hand into a tight fist, her glare intensifying.

“Enough!” Ms. Sykes walked in between them. “Break it up.”

Trish lowered her head and ran after her brother.

X

Trish tapped her foot restlessly as she sat on the bench beside the Lost and Found. She chewed on a lock of her hair, breathing sharply through her teeth.

When the door finally opened, she spat out her hair and hopped out of her seat.

Out of his dirty jeans and layered graphic-T, Darry walked out of the room in overalls and a tight striped button up.

“Darry—” She halted.

A janitor stepped out right after her brother, smiling brightly at him.

“Thanks again for your help, sir.” Darry smiled back.

The old man quietly handed him a wash cloth to wipe off a few more spots of blood still freckled on his face. Darry took it gingerly and waved as he left with his cart.

"He was in there with you?" Trish bit on her thumb nail.

"Yeah! He helped me find this." He pulled lightly on his borrowed clothes. "Even though I look like a candy cane farmer!" 

"Did he...watch you change?"

"What?!" Darry snorted. "No!"

Trish let the topic fall. 

“What do you want me to do?” She asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“About Trina Sinclair.”

“What about her?”

She dropped her nail out of her mouth and inched closer to her brother, whispering her words but enunciating every syllable.

“What do you want me to do to her?”

Darry stared at his sister, dumbfounded. “Uh, nothing?”

“We can’t let her get away with what she did.”

“Sure, we can! We always do!”

“Not this time.” She shook her head.

"Why not?"

“She’ll keep getting away with everything if no one stops her.”

"So?! Trish, you can't be ser—"

The fierce glint in her usually soft eyes instantly answered his question.

“O-Okay, but...wh-what are you thinking? What do you wanna do, huh? Torture her?”

“Whatever you want.”

X

The Jenner siblings watched Trina and her clones walk side by side together. She walked her bull dog gleefully, not a care in the world.

“How’d she get that big ole mutt past staff?” Darry crossed his arms over his chest.

“Teacher’s pet.” Trish huffed as she drew in her notebook.

“Nice one, sis!”

He looked down at her notebook. A picture of a dog laying in the grass occupied the once fresh page, its intestines oozing out of its sliced open stomach.

“Who’s that supposed to be?”

She shrugged and said nothing.

He thought for a moment then smirked at an idea that sparked in his head.

“Let's do that.”

She stopped and squinted at him.

He arched his eyebrows and pointed at her drawing. “Not that! I mean we can…you know, hide Trina's dog somewhere and make it look like he was taken by the Beast of Bailey Downs.”

“That dog would rip our heads off.”

“Not if we grab him while he was asleep!” He scooted over until he faced his sister outright.

“We go out late tonight, sneak in their backyard all ninja-like, and lay him in their empty pool!”

“They’d find him in a heartbeat.”

“Fine, then let’s…let’s hide him in our shed!”

“With all my art stuff? No!”

“C’mon, it’s just for one night!”

“Dare—”

“Oo! We can use your red paint to splatter it all over his doghouse. Make it look real convincing!”

Trish lowered her head. “I don’t know about this…It seems cruel.”

“Isn't this what you wanted?”

She pursed her lips together.

“I don't want her in agony…I want her to know what it felt like to hurt. I only wanted to do something for you.”

“Okay! So, let’s do this then!”

She looked away and combed her fingers through her hair. “I’m not using all my paint.”

Darry patted her on the shoulders, unable to contain his grin. “You won’t have to.”

Their attention was pulled towards a large yellow van skidding into the school driveway.

Jason, Trina, and all their friends gathered around it, all smiles and batting eyelashes. They traded cash for a small bag of leaves, and no sooner had the guy in the van parked did he drive off.

“So, Sam, are you gonna call me?” Trina hollered out to him playfully. 

He didn’t respond, only looked out his window as he backed out into the street. A cigarette in his mouth, shades sitting on the bridge of his nose, but he still somehow found himself locking eyes with Darry.

“Let’s go. You still need a shower.” Trish jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow before standing up.

By the time Darry got up himself, the guy and his van were gone. He slung his bookbag on his shoulder and headed towards home.

“I’m gonna miss that old shirt.” He sighed.

“Did they say what they were gonna do with it?”

“No, but...they'll probably burn it and throw the ashes in the sewers. Can’t get blood out of cotton with a little laundry detergent.”

“I’m sorry, Dare. I wish I could’ve stopped Trina sooner.”

“You kidding? You couldn’t’ve seen her coming. Hell, I barely did.”

“I admire your optimism. Despite how annoyingly persistent it is.”

“But you still admire it! And that's good enough for me!”

Trish rolled her eyes just as Jason stopped them in their tracks.

“So, uh, Jen!” He gently tapped her shoulder.

The Jenner siblings eyed him with confused curiosity.

“I think we should...get together!”  

“Oh…” She lowered her head, hiding her rising burning face behind her bangs.

No guy had asked Trish out since...ever. And did he really mean it? Or was he playing some dumb, nasty game?

She had no time to prepare, thrown out into the wolves like a rabbit tossed by a cruel wrangler.

“Uhm…”

“Thanks for the offer, McCardy!" Darry smiled politely as he grabbed his sister's shoulders. "But she’s good! She's saving herself for Not You!”

"Dare!" Trish hissed.

"Bye now, have a nice day! Watch out for the beast!" 

He sped-walked and led them both away from him.

Jason watched them go, a scoff falling off his lips.

“I gotta get rid of that fruit.”

Chapter Text

As the siblings walked home together, Darry noticed his sister being quieter than usual. He tilted forward, bringing himself into her line of vision.

“Earth to Trish—do you read me? Over!”

“Shuddup…” She turned her head away from him.

He stood upright again, pressing his eyebrows inward.

"What? Not in the mood to play 'what planet is Trish on' today?”

“Nope. So can you leave me alone, please?"

"Ouch. What's gotten into you?" 

"Nothing...Just drop it, Dare. I mean it."

“You know that's not my style."

Trish groaned irritably. 

"Holy shit! You’re not seriously still thinking about McCardy, are you?”

She stopped and glared at him. “No!”

Darry chuckled. “You totally are!”

“You didn’t have to stand up for me back there.”

“I wasn’t standing up for you! I was answering his question...for you.”

“Well, I didn't ask you to do that for me either!” She stormed off, but Darry quickly followed behind.

“C’mon, sis! You can do so much better.”

“I don’t need you telling me that. Besides, I’m not interested in him.”

“That’s a relief. Then why are you thinking about him?”

“I'm not! I just...I don’t need you defending me all the time. I mean, who’s the older sibling here?”

“It’s not about who’s the oldest. We gotta look out for each other. United against life, right?” He bumped his arm against hers.

His sister looked up at the sky and pretended to count the clouds when she felt a budding smile on her face.

"Stop trying to make me less mad at you."

"Me? I would never!...Why? Is it working?"

“Dork." She shoved him a little harder than she meant to. Before she could apologize, their mother caught sight of Darry’s stumble.

“Patricia!” Pamela called out to her daughter. “Don’t push your brother!”

She didn't sound upset or even disciplinary. More on Mama-bear mode, worrying endlessly about her cubs. 

“I’m okay, Mom!” Darry reassured her, giving her shoulder a hug as they passed her in the garage.

“I was only mere inches from suffering from a minor concussion!”

“Oh, you poor baby!” She smiled warmly and kissed his forehead. "Good thing you have all that hair to cushion your fall."

"I'm not getting a haircut!"

She giggled behind her hand as her gaze fell on his overalls. “Where’d you get those?”

“Long story." He eyed all the large floral arrangements in the trunk of their mini-van.  "What’cha got there?”

“Just something I picked up while I was out. You like them? I'm going to use them on the Halloween decorations.”

“Sweet! Can’t wait to see it all come together!”

“You know, you can always help me with—”

“Sorry, Mom! My hearing suddenly vanished!” He hurried into the house.

Pamela shook her head and went back to organizing her flowers.

“Mama’s boy.” Trish sneered at him.

“Daddy’s bore.” He jabbed back.

“Panty-sniffer.”

“Bootlicker.”

“Jaw jobber.”

X

The Jenners all sat together at their dining room table that evening, quietly eating amongst each other. Homemade ravioli and asparagus, their mother's favorite dinner to make and enjoy.

Trish tried not to cause attention to herself as she rubbed her aching hips. But her mother had a keen eye.

“Patricia, why are you rubbing your back?” 

Her daughter quickly dropped her hand and kept her wavering focus on her barely touched plate.

“Does it hurt?” Her mother persisted.

“…No.”

“Then why were you rubbing it?”

"I...I don't know."

"You don't know?"

“M-Maybe it's a force of habit!" Darry chimed in. "Right, Trish?” 

Trish lowered her head, hiding a smile behind her fork.

"Yeah, she's always sitting hunched over like that, so...Maybe she's got scoliosis!" 

His sister and father stifled a laugh. 

“Not funny, Darius.” Pamela looked pointedly at him.

He shrugged and grinned. “It’s a little funny.”

She circled back to her daughter, not letting her son’s antics distract her any further.

“Does it hurt near your tailbone or higher?” She motioned around her waist even though Trish wasn’t looking. “Does it hurt around here?”

“Or back here?” She pointed to where her lower abdomen should be.

Trish sighed. “…Sometimes.”

Pamela gasped happily. “Oh my! Do you think it’s cramps?”

Trish coughed between chewing her bread. “I-I dunno, Mom! Geez!”

“Pam, we’re eating.” Her husband insisted.

“Henry, our daughter is three years late menstruating. Our son hasn’t hit puberty…down there yet—”

“Mom!” Darry blurted out with a blush striking his face.

“It’s not normal. Okay, and if it’s finally happening to our little girl, then…”

“It’s not, Mom.” Trish swallowed down her water.

“Honey, it’s nothing to be scared of.” Pamela gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s the most normal thing in the world.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about this at the dinner table…”

“Patricia…”

“Yeah, I don’t want my lack of balls discussed at dinner either!” Darry added.

Pamela peered at her husband sternly. “See what your attitude does?”

“May I be excused, please?” Their daughter huffed.

“You haven’t finished your dinner.” 

“The marinara sauce is starting to make me nauseous.” She dropped her napkin on the table and stood from the table.

“Yeah, same here.” Her brother slid out of his chair.

“Darius, you are not connected at her wrist.” Pamela called out to him as he sped off to follow his sister.

It did not stop them from heading down to the basement together.

Their mother sighed. She tried at least. She called out to them again.

“Your father and I have counselling tonight! I don’t want you two leaving the house! News says there’s still some wild animal on the loose!”

“They never go out.” Henry squinted once she finished.

“Well, you’re a big help.” His wife threw her napkin on the table the way her daughter did and stood up.

“As usual.”

X

Five minutes after Trish and Darry heard their parents’ van leave the driveway, they bundled up in dark clothes, gathered a tin of red paint from the shed, and left the house.

“Darry…” Trish uttered halfway down the sidewalk.

“Mm?”

She hesitated for a minute, her stomach twisting in knots.

“We’ll get caught.”

“No, we won’t!”

As they rounded the corner, Trish's steps grew heavier than her brothers. There was a shortcut through the playground that reached Trina’s house easier, and way sooner for her liking.

“Let’s think about this, okay?” She froze in a pile of fallen leaves.

“I mean, no one’s leaving their dogs outside anymore!”

Darry turned around when he didn’t hear her footsteps behind him.

“He has to pee sometime, right?”

“Yeah, but he won’t be alone.”

“So, I’ll distract whoever lets him out. And when their backs are turned, you grab Fido and—”

“That’s not happening, Dare! I’m not going near that dog while he's awake!”

“Okay, so then you distract the Sinclair family! I'm better with animals than humans anyway!"

"That is so not true!"

He stepped closer to his sister, noticing her drawing back an inch at a time.

"C’mon, Trish! Don’t back out now! You're doing this for me, aren't you?"

"That's not fair, Darry."

"You don't think I'm scared, too?"

Trish lowered her head and rubbed her arm tightly.

He ruffled the top of her head.“It’s gonna be fine! Don’t worry!”

She sighed and fixed her hair back before continuing onward with her brother.

They walked the rest of the way quietly. As they ventured through the playground, their trek came to a halt when they found another dog shredded and maimed.

“Oh my gosh!” Trish veered away from the sight.

“This beast is relentless!” Darry grimaced. 

"Ugh, it smells terrible!"

"We can't let kids see this..." He set the paint in his hand down on the ground and walked over to the carcass. He scrunched up his face as he knelt in front of it.

Trish glanced over her shoulder at what her brother was doing.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Dare! The police'll come and get it!”

"Not fast enough! No one's gonna call this in before morning!" 

"So, let's go home and do it ourselves! Right now!"

“That'll take too long. We're right here! We can deal with it, get back on track, then go home and call them.” 

He grabbed its…leg? “Oh man, it’s still warm…”

“You’re disgusting! Wh-What are you gonna do?”

“Throw it in the woods. Here, help me out!”

“No way!”

“Baby.”

As he lifted it up, the leg effortlessly ripped out of its socket. Darry hollered and flicked the limb away.

“Grossgrossgrossgross!” He waved his hands and quivered around in a circle.

“Yuck, Dare! You almost hit me!”

“Sorry! I’m kinda freaking the fuck out over here!”

“You wouldn’t have to if you would’ve left it alone!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d helped—” He stopped his arguing and stared at his sister’s lower half.

“What?” She stepped back, clinging onto her arm.

“I think I did get some on you.”

Trish followed his stare to her leg. A trail of blood dripped down from underneath her skirt.

“Nice one, Darry!”

“It’s not like I aimed it at you or something!”

Trish's stomach tightened. She let go of her arm and dipped her hand in the ooze. She brought it to her face and let out a shuddered breath.

“Dare…”

“What?”

“I think I just got the curse.”

He blinked. “…The what?”

She wiped the blood on the ground. “The…thing Mom was talking about at dinner.”

“Oh...Cramps?”

“Forget it, okay?! Ugh, this is a nightmare!” She groaned and thrusted her clean fingers through her hair.

“Here, just…” He started unzipping his jacket. “Wipe it off with—"

“No, don't. I'm fine. Look, can we go home? I don’t wanna do this anymore..."

Darry regarded the horribly torn apart canine and nodded. “Okay. Let's go. This was a bad idea anyway.”

“At least you’re admitting it.”

“Only to make you feel better.” He smirked.

"I don't care. I'll take it."

Darry picked up Trish's red paint and headed back to their house.

"As soon as I get home, I'm gonna shower and draw the shit outta this moment.” Trish huffed wearily.

"How nice! Meanwhile, I get the fun job of calling the cop!" Darry grumbled. "They're gonna wonder why we were out here after curfew." 

"They won't if you call anonymously."

"But then how will I make my claim as the hero of Bailey Downs?"

"Dream on, Dare—”

A rustling in the bushes crawled through the air.

The Jenner siblings stopped. There was no wind that could have caused that, nor a gust powerful enough to cause a horse see-saw to jitter on its own. The sight of it made their hearts drop.

“Pick up the pace?” Darry asked nervously.

“Mhm…!” Trish swallowed.

They quickened their walk—

Trish was cut cold by a roaring blur of speeding fur and teeth and claws. 

The force of it knocked Darry off his feet and sent his sister's paint skidding towards the swings. He stood up quickly and ran to grab it, thankful it hadn't burst.

"Trish, you okay?!" He turned around.

But his sister was nowhere to be found.

"Trish?"

Her scream pierced through the darkness. It brought goosebumps across Darry's arm.

“TRISH!” 

He followed the sound into the woods, breathing heavily through his open mouth. He ran and ran until there was no more noise other than his panting.

Her screams suddenly disappeared, or too far away to hear, leaving Darry alone with nothing to guide his path. He stood there aimlessly, trying to catch his breath.

“TRISH!” He shouted again, but he got no answer.

The lights in the back yard of a few houses beamed to life, but they did very little to help him in his search.

He shouldn’t’ve dragged his sister into his stupid little plan. He knew she didn't want to do it, but he wouldn't stop twisting her arm. Now she was gone. He may never see her again. And it’s all his—

Her scream bounced back into his ears.

“Tri—” His shout was cut short once he saw his sister rushing towards him, thrashing violently. He stood in her way and grabbed her tight.

“Areyouokay?! Areyouokay?!” He repeated frantically.

“We gotta go!” She shrieked. “We—"

Large, heavy, and raging, a flurry of talons shoved Trish back on the ground. Sliced into her flesh as easily as silk sheets.

He couldn’t tell what it was, couldn’t piece together the rabid sounds it made, but it was hovering over his sister, and he needed to get it off.

But he was too stunned to move, too horrified to comprehend what was happening before him. It was only when the creature took a bite out of Trish, her agonizing shriek vibrating in his eardrums, that he tore away from his frozen state.

He looked around for something—anything—to use to stop it. He glanced down at the red paint in his hand and shakily lifted it up.

Throwing it over his head, he dropped it down on the beast’s spine. Again, and again until it exploded all over the creature. The thing finally let go of his sister, distracting it enough to tear its attention, and its teeth, towards Darry.

He stared at it in the eyes, his mouth agape. His sister's blood trickling out of its mouth and on its nails. Now his own will soon dye his furs. 

Something grabbed Darry's arm. Trish miraculously stood up and pulled him forward, running away with him in a panic. They ran into the street right as a car sped by. But they didn't stop, couldn’t stop.

The beast followed right behind them, lunging at them as they crossed the other side. Until the car that beeped at them hit it at full speed. The car screeched to a stop as blood as guts and gore covered the streets.

Though they laid there stunned for a moment, they didn’t stay put for long. Trish grabbed her brother again and pulled him up on his feet as they made a dash towards home.

Sam stared wide eyed at the blood splattered all over his windshield.

X

“MOOOOOOOM!” Darry hollered as he lunged his sister around, holding her tightly around her shoulders.

A blank expression sat on Trish’s blood-stained face, panting as if every breath was her last.

Their house was too quiet, the walls and furniture too still. 

"MOM, DAD! HELP!" 

But there was no one to hear his cries.

Darry decided to take his sister back to their room, gently lying her flat on her bed. He started to unzip her jacket.

“No! No!” She whimpered, shaking her head desperately.

“What?!”

“It burns! I can’t!”

“I-I have to look at it, Trish! I have to see if it—”

“No! Let it sit there! I’m fine!”

“No, the fuck you’re not!” He unzipped her jacket as delicately as he could and stared at her ripped flesh.

Large open gashes sliced on her shoulder, blood seeping out of each of them.

“I’m fine! I swear!” Trish shuddered.

“How can you say that?! Doesn’t your shoulder hurt!”

“No!”

"You don't have to act tough right now, sis!"

"I'm not! I swear I'm not!" 

Darry’s eyes grew even wider. He poked one of the gashes, but his sister didn’t flinch. Didn’t even yell or tell him off. In fact, upon closer inspection, he saw the wounds closing in on themselves.

“Holy shit…! They’re…You’re—”

“What, Darry?! What?! What!”

“You’re…already healing!”

“…What?”

He was right. Though she was shaken up, Trish didn’t feel any more pain. She actually did feel…fine. Better than that even.

“I’m calling 9-1-1!” Darry shoved himself off her bed.

“No!” Trish sat up straight and grabbed his arm.

He stopped and stared at her, completely pale.

“Dare, look! Look!” She pulled her sweater and jacket away from her shoulder and touched the blood on her skin. “I’m not, I’m not bleeding anymore!”

They stared at each other, trembling.

“I don’t want Dad to find out, or Mom! I wanna…I wanna take a shower and…go to bed. I’m fine, okay? I mean it! Okay?”

Darry blinked, gawking at her wound. Or…what should be deadly wounds if they weren’t disappearing so quickly.

“Cross your heart, Dare!”

“I-I…I—”

“Please!”

“Cr-Cross my heart, th-the whole…nine yards…!”

Trish pressed her forehead on his and let out a heavy sigh.

“Thank you, Darry…Thank you…!”

He closed his eyes tightly and wrapped his arms around her, not caring if he got blood on himself. He let out the breath he had been holding in.

“Holy shit, Trish…! I thought…I thought I lost you back there.”

“No way. I’m right here.” She held him close. “I’m right here…”

Later that night, Darry sat on Trish’s bed as she slept on his lap. He stared at the television screen droning through an infomercial, gliding his hand gently along her damp hair. After a few blinks, he glanced over at their dresser.

He stared at a drawing Trish made after her shower. A sharp red eye surrounded by winter white fur. It laid upright against her favorite mug.

He needed to refill that soon.