Chapter 43 Clothing Burrito
Ender spun, screeching in warning at the four men who had dared to enter his safe space, two of whom shouldn’t be there at all, yet… His gaze traced over their forms, their scents being blown to him by the artificial wind.
No…NO, THEY SHOULDN’T BE HERE! Betrayed!
I’ve been betrayed! His fear spiked, even though he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off them.
Tremors that refused to stop, rolled through his body, his heart pounding loudly—or was it just his head that was pounding?
It hurt. His head hurt. His eyes hurt too, like they’d been open too long, and his body felt heavy.
No, that wasn’t important! They shouldn’t—Danger!
Ender gave his head a shake when the world swayed a bit, taking a desperate breath in through his mouth, trying to get rid of the Cryptids’ scents, as he cried, “TRAITORS!”
His irritation rose as he found he needed to ball his hands up, just to stop himself from reaching out to the dangerous couple who would no doubt try to take what was his.
Holding his body stiff, to prevent himself from slithering closer, Ender turned his glare on Soren, as his precious chickens started to approach. “You fucking traitor!”
His brother had the audacity to scoff. “Ender, your dumb ass is terrorizing people. You left me no choice!”
Ender’s words caught in his throat as his head swayed again. Whatever he’d intended to say was lost completely when a familiar voice rang out with a song he had heard before. He dug his claws into his palms and fought the urge to let it carry him away, as he heard more of the lyrics than before.
“Swim, little Siren, the sunshine is calling. Your path to freedom is waiting above. Burning though the heat may be, the dryness that follows a death of its own. You must swear to me, swear to me, my sweet child, that the darkness that took me won’t take you as well.
“Mother, my dear, poor mother, I swear to you now, I will not let them win. True, the darkness is right behind me, but my freedom is closer, I swear to you now.”
He hissed when, beyond his control, his heart began to calm, his body swaying with the Siren’s words.
“No!” Ender screamed. Shaking his head, he slithered back as he let loose a guttural hiss, pointing at Killian.
“You will not trick me, Siren! You…” His eyes narrowed on Cyrus and Killian, even as the Siren’s voice trailed off to nothing.
“Why are you here?! Go away!” His hands shakily wrapped around his extended stomach, hunching inwards as he felt their eyes drop to his baby bump.
“NO! They are not for you! They are mine! Y-you can’t take them! You can’t!”
Killian stared, unsure what to do to help the situation. Based on how the Gorgon reacted to his voice, even with just a little power put behind it, he was positive that if he wanted to, he could forcefully calm Ender. He didn’t want to though.
While some wouldn’t realize what he was doing, he knew Ender would, and having your will forcefully drained from you wasn’t a pleasant experience.
More just panic-inducing. And while he both heard and saw the anger in Ender’s eyes, the Gorgon’s whole body radiated fear.
It was in his stance, and the way he was protectively hugging himself.
Really, the anger was more out of self-defense than anything.
More than the fear, what worried him was how exhausted the Gorgon looked.
The bags were an obvious thing, but the swaying, and him randomly shaking his head as if something was wrong with his vision, not to mention the fact that Ender’s arms and face looked…
slimmer than they had been, told him the man needed rest and care.
“Try your clothes,” Soren whispered. “Or whatever you brought with you.”
He didn’t even question the idea, Killian just hurriedly opened the nearest suitcase of his. Letting it flop open, he tugged out an unwashed dress-shirt he’d grabbed from the laundry. Cyrus did the same, only he took out a pair of pants.
Neither of them reacted when Soren, without warning, dumped both of their suitcases, spewing their things onto the grass, before pushing the bags out of the way, and stepping back behind them again.
Miraculously, between the clothing appearing and the dumping, the hissing stopped. When Killian met Ender’s gaze again, he found the Gorgon’s eyes zeroed in on what was in their hands, but also flicking back and forth to the mess on the ground as well. His hair seemed to be just as entranced.
Hesitantly, Killian held the shirt out, and Cyrus mirrored his action.
Time slowly ticked by, with them just standing there, caught in the Cryptid’s stare, before finally, the Gorgon began to approach. Ender slithered towards them hesitantly for all of a second before the snake sped up, seeming to reach them between one blink and the next.
Killian willingly let go the moment the Gorgon went to yank the shirt from his hold, the man taking Cyrus’ pants as well.
Bringing both items to his face, Ender drew in a deep breath, shuddering as he let it out.
He could hear the Gorgon’s heartbeat slowing as the man slithered down and started to cocoon the clothes around himself.
As this continued, he sat down next to Ender, while Cyrus plopped right beside him, and they watched the Gorgon turn himself into a clothing burrito. When Ender was fully wrapped, his eyes closed and an almost child-like smile spread over his face. Within seconds, the Gorgon fell asleep.
Soren heaved out a sigh. “Finally…”
“How long was he rampaging like that?” Killian asked, while carefully running a hand over the man’s hair. He smiled slightly when the snake coils, who seemed to be sleeping as well, wound around his hand and up his arm. The hold wasn’t tight, just a gentle pressure.
“Since I called.”
“What?!” Cyrus growled softly. “You can’t be fucking serious, he shouldn’t—?”
“Don’t you dare fucking judge,” Soren hissed.
“Gorgons are very instinctual creatures. The most we could do was prevent him from hurting himself and others further. We did what we could, and he did as much as his instincts allowed him. Unfortunately, pregnancy happens to make him more paranoid than normal.”
Killian pursed his lips. “His face and arms look a bit thinner, which tells me he isn’t eating enough.”
“Well, he likely isn’t, but then, he falls into fits easily. It's hard to shovel in food when he is trying to turn you to stone or bite you,” the Harpy stated testily, before practically barking, “Fix that,” as he turned and left.
“I’m getting tired of being snapped at,” he said stiffly, glaring after the man as the door closed behind him. “I may hurt him.”
Cyrus chuckled. “I have no inclination to stop you.”
Killian grunted, before looking back down at Ender with a sigh. “Should we try to move him? Surely he has a bed?”
“Our source of information just left.”
Killian jumped as someone cleared their throat, both of them looking back at the other man who they’d apparently forgotten about. Which was a testament to how tired both of them were, as the guy was over seven feet tall, and sporting bright-green hair.
Cyrus’ gaze flicked to Quill, before he found himself eyeing the chickens as a few of them took a seemingly threatening step towards them.
“Yep, I’m still here,” the Fate said with an amused smile, as he also briefly glanced down at the chickens.
“Just ignore them. The demons all belong to Ender, and they mostly only listen to him. They have names, and I know them, but right now they aren’t being friendly, so I don’t think they deserve them.
” When the man’s words were followed by more angry clucking, he snapped, “Oh, knock it off! I feed your asses half the time!”
Cyrus cleared his throat awkwardly. “So…what relative of mine are you related to?”
Quill tilted his head, laughing almost nervously. “I'm afraid I don’t know why you think we are related.”
He frowned, his brow pulling at that. “You know what you are, don’t you?”
Quill smiled brighter at that, but didn’t say more on the subject, just asking, “Want me to show you to Ender’s room?”
“Please,” Killian cut in.
With his Baby sounding more tired than before, he didn’t press the previous issue, and instead, he just swept Ender up, clothes and all.
They followed Quill back through the doors, and down the hall, where they took a set of stairs upwards from the foyer. The second floor of what he assumed was Ender’s home, or domain, had the same wooden floors and dark-green flower wallpaper as below.
Off to the right of the steps was a small sitting nook, with an old-fashioned wooden rocking chair on a rounded green rug.
To the left of the chair was a small wooden table with a floating old lantern-type lamp above it.
To the right of the chair, against the wall, sat a large bookcase filled with actual paperbound books.
Not a single one looked new, but then, it wasn’t like much was made with paper anymore.
On the wall behind the chair was a painting of chickens running.
There were three hallways, one directly to the left of the stairs, one straight across, and the last went to the right.
They took the one to the left. Filled with doors, and what seemed like more artwork of chickens, the hall was long, and curved to the left at the end.
Oddly, while the doors in the hall were all wooden, each was made from a different type of wood, and the hardware was in various styles, none matching.
As Quill stopped before the second door on the left, one that was made of a dark wood, and sporting an antique bronze doorknob with the design of a snake slithering around it, he said, “And this is where you’ll find Ender’s room.
The whole house, well…home space, is his, but others do live here, so I’d say avoid snooping for now.
Wait—” The man chuckled. “—actually, don’t snoop at all.
Ender may be the most paranoid out of us all, but that doesn’t mean the rest will react well to a stranger coming into their room, and in some cases, their living space.
As some of the rooms here are expanded and have their own private living areas.
“I'm not sure how long you intend to stay, but you will notice a lot of traffic, and just people coming in and out of the place. Numerous others live in Ender’s domain, myself included. But you’ll likely not even see half of them, as some are often away, and a few are hermits who rarely come out of their rooms.
“Either way, as there are likely places you won’t be allowed to go within the compound, I’d say until Ender wakes up, or Soren fetches you, stay put to avoid getting shot.”
“We’ll stay put,” Cyrus grunted.
“Good, good,” Quill hummed, while he opened the door and helped them move their things inside.
As they walked in, Cyrus’ brow rose at the mess.
Clothes, blankets, and random shit littered the floor, as if a tornado had blown through, or a teenager.
Like the rest of the space in this area, the style was very old farmhouse vibes, with wooden floors and walls, not a curved wall to be seen, though there was a dark forest-green accent wall behind the bed.
The only thing that really stood out from the rest was the oversized rounded bed against the right wall.
With a wooden frame and a carved headboard, the thing likely could comfortably fit five of him.
It was covered in green sheets and a thick quilt, and along the left rounded edge, near the headboard, was what appeared to be a large, partly-constructed basket, or he supposed the better word for it would be a nest, made of clothing and who knows what else.
Antique wooden dressers lined the left wall, and there was a full-length floating mirror in the corner.
The wall across from the hallway door was sporting two fake windows with beige curtains, both showing a believable night view of a lawn and some trees.
On the floor by the windows were several, he assumed, fake potted plants.
There was more chicken art on the walls, and above the bed, was a knickknack shelf full of pretty much just small ceramic chicken figurines.
“Ignore the mess, it usually isn’t like this. Boss has just been struggling at making his nest. He hasn’t much liked what we’ve given him. Usually, it’s the main source of his fits,” Quill explained.
“I see…” he said hesitantly. “Thank you for guiding us here.”
“No problem. If there is nothing else, I’m going to head to sleep. I’m sure you two could use some yourselves.”
“It was a long drive,” Killian murmured in agreement.
Nodding, the other Fate left, closing the door behind him.
Killian kicked his shoes off and plopped down onto the large bed. “Messy or not, at least it will fit all of us.”
Slipping off his own boots, Cyrus slowly crawled onto the bed with Ender in his arms. Lying down on his side, he smiled tiredly at the Siren as he stretched out with the Gorgon’s back against his chest, one arm wrapped around him.
Killian crawled further onto the bed, and snuggled against Ender’s other side. He pulled his Baby closer, wrapping his arms around the two men. “Night, Baby.”
“Night,” Killian mumbled, his voice barely audible as the Siren quickly drifted to sleep. Cyrus didn’t let himself think, and swiftly followed the man.