Discord
06-08-2025, 11:55 PM
THe following thread is chunks of a upcoming Twine project, previews to give a taste for what's to come. Visual assets will be added onto and updated as time goes.
This is a story at another world's end.
You are the one who pulls the trigger.
![[Image: Skybox%203.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/NewCrankshafrt/Skybox%203.png)
The legs of your pants were drenched in soil, hands swollen from the urgent gig.
"Need a funeral before sundown, paying triple wage. - Ono."
He was a man from down the street who always kept busy, used to know a guy who said finding work would keep you alive just a bit longer. Maybe it was like that for him.
The most you'd engaged with him in the past is when he'd hand you some bills to pick up something from the local store, let you keep the change and maybe a tip so you know he'd be good for it.
The two of you worked intensively, and he was kind enough to give you plenty of time to break and rest off the load handed to you.
Not once had you looked over and seen him stop to rest himself though....
You were both on a pretty strict timer, a corpse had til the sun goes out before it became trouble. Wispy little shades rotating around the mound like flies had amassed, waiting for nightfall. Proper funeral or torch the body, anything else would be begging for the dead to rise with a soul not its own..
But so long as there was light, it was easy to quash, each mound of dirt like starving a animal in a cage. The body was wrapped and bound together by layers of blankets over plastic sheets, no face to be seen but the form registered more than enough to have you rattled. You should be used to this by now though, right? People bury their folks in their yard plenty these days...
Maybe the idea of this as normal should've never been...
![[Image: Ono%202.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/NewCrankshafrt/Ono%202.png)
Mr. Ono turned to look at you, always nerve-wracking each time.. Were you doing a bad job? Could he see the ticking in your head? That's not a real thing, people can't do that-
No. He gave you a warm smile through the sweat and tired eyes.
Ono: Think you've had enough, I can cover from here.
He scooted to the side, showing what he'd been working on for the past hour. A pile of stone melded together and prettied up with heat and clay into a grave.
You shook your head at him.
Pato: We're almost done, let me at least-
Ono: He should be fine, ground's been salted proper. From here, it's just making it look nice and clean. Know it's not really ideal these days to most but... think in the end we'd all like a little bit of dignity, yeah?
He placed down he shovel to the side, you followed suit by jabbing the head of the tool into the ground to keep it still. He gave you a bit of stinkeye for it, followed by a smirk that eased tension.
Pato: I do something funny or-
Ono: I mean you're a kid, you're kinda supposed to a little. You're Mrs. Felix's kid if I recall, yeah?
Pato: Yeah, you two know each other?
Ono: Yeah, helped her once with the coin machine at the market I used to work. She was worried the thing was eating her change, so we ended up calling in maintenance. Seemed nice, could tell she was going through it though. Guess everyone is these days.
Pato: Yeah... guess that's really why I'm here, you know? Like...
Ono: Didn't wish you were but... circumstances. I get it.
He goes through a wallet with a thick stack of bills and slaps down practically the entire thing.
Ono: Take it, you've done good work today.
Pato: T-that's so much! I-
Ono: Yeah, and you need it.
Pato: Can I really have this?? Can you even afford to like-
Ono: It's technically his cash, not mine. I asked the family ahead if I could use the money in his wallet to help pay someone to get the job done in time. Said they were fine as long as nothing else was touched. You're all good.
Pato: Know him personally at all?
Ono: Little. Mr. Tuning, bit of a stubborn guy. Whatever he was doing out so late... would hardly call it worth it seeing this. Neighbors informed his family when they found him roasting in the morning sun, found a funeral preferable. Chimed in, told them I'd see what I could do. Think this is solid for how quick this all had to be.
Pato: Hardly knew him then?
Ono: Not enough to call him a friend.
Pato: Doing a lot then.
Ono: Hate to see anyone get mauled, even more have to risk other folks getting hurt by whatever crawls into his flesh like that. People will mourn so at the very least I can offer the comfort of knowing they can visit and give their final respects.
Couldn't disagree too much, just.... a lot to think of when you returned.
Pato: I get you.
Ono: You walked here, yeah?
Pato: Mmhmm! Not too far from here.
Ono: Your mom planning to pick you up? Know we still got a couple hours before we gotta start worrying, but nothing's ever on a strict schedule like that.
He swatted away a few of the nearby shades fluttering about, little forms crumpling like paper and being carried off by the wind. In general, it seemed like they had started to move on or fizzle since their access to a fresh host was more than wasted.
Pato: No she.. doesn't really know honestly. Hates it when I go out to work but I dunno. She need help.
Ono: I see.. Want me to go back with you? Least make sure you get back without issue.
Pato: I'll be fine..
Ono: No good then.
Pato: Mm?
Ono: If you're going to be stubborn the least I can do is make sure you can take full advantage.
He gestured with a finger to stay put before quickly shuffling back inside.
He returns with a steel bat, handle held out to you.
Pato: Are you giving me-
Ono: Those things hate man made steel. Should ward them off if any stragglers show up early, make your house safer. You get a sling and carry that around with you whenever possible, cloth belt works.
Pato: What if I don't care? What if I'm too lazy?
Ono: You'd make your mom sad, no?
Pato: Yeah. I guess.
Ono: Don't get smart with me in a stupid way. Everyone knows that one guy who reuses to get help. Never ends happy for anyone. Nip that in the bud before it becomes a problem. Just scoot back, stay safe and feel free to treat yourselves a little. Live when you still can, si?
You take a moment to let that all process.
Pato: We're alive though right now, yeah?
Ono: Living and being alive are two different things. One's a choice and the other is a state of being. You gotta do both.
Pato: Okay.
Ono: Good.
You stood there awkwardly for a moment.
Ono: That really got you quiet? You're silly.
You finally spoke up, ignoring his comment mostly.
Pato: Are you going to be safe? Got a place to stay?
Ono: I'll figure it out, got options nearby. For now I say you start scrambling, we good? Before you go... let me just hand you a little something.
He reached deep into his jacket and flashed you a business card. Phone number, radio frequency, his name and occupation listed as "E. Ono, Freelancer."
Is that really a job? You pocket away the card carefully.
Pato: Thank you, I'll keep it around
Ono: Give that to your mom, let her know who you've been around all day. Better to be open about details than make her worry, you know?
Pato: What's your real job? Like, it can't just be this.
Ono: Little bit of everything, bit wordy to explain right now, and just a courtesy after today. If you wanna know leave me a call. Seriously gotta start going now.
Pato: Yeah. Guess I'll see you again?
Ono: Better circumstances next time hopefully. Stay safe.
You start getting your feet going, still facing toward him and giving him a little wave.
Pato: Don't get in trouble!
Ono: Straight home, no side trips or detours!
____
After a bit of a jog, you made it back home without a snag.
Unlocking the door was a bit harder today- you heard a familiar voice greet you.
Mom: Pato!
Pato: Yeah!
Mom: Don't yeah me.
Pato: I can have a yeah today!
Mom: Oh? And why's that?
You finally get the door open.
You wave around the huge stack of bills openly.
Pato: I got the rent!
![[Image: pato%20home.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/NewCrankshafrt/pato%20home.png)
As she turned to see you she made a bit of a noise, eyes intensively focused on the dirt caked all over you.
Mom: Oh my god! Where were you all day?!
Pato: Doing a quick job, some yardwork. It was pretty easy...
Mom:... Yardwork right now? Who can even-
Pato: Just a neighbor, no big deal. Got paid good.
Mom: These rich folks are going to kill me.. you know you don't have to be doing that...
Pato: School's shut down and all my friends are across town. Don't got anything better right now.
Mom: You're 14.
Pato: So? You worked at 14.
Mom: Illegally! I had to lie and say I was 16, and the other staff blackmailed me with that! Back then we really needed money like that in a way I never want you to have to go through!
Pato: We need it like that today mom...
She tilts her head back before giving out a long sigh.
Mom: Just don't do anything crazy, okay? No selling drugs or guns or-
Pato: You know nobody's gonna let me run around with a gun like that.
Mom: I'm serious.
Pato: I know just...
You frantically pulled the cash out of your pocket.
Pato: At least this one time just.. let me help with rent.
It's insane that even when the world was burning down, rent still existed..
Mom: I love you but.. don't make this a regular thing, okay? I'll always figure it out-
She constantly worked herself to the bone, could she really be promising that?
Pato: You don't do anything crazy too.
A little nod from her.
Mom: I know.
Pato: You have to be careful...
Mom: You're right...
She paused before pointing to the hallway.
Mom: Get yourself cleaned and we’ll heat up something, sound good.
Pato: Yeah.
A quick shower, a change of clothes, and today's fit stuffed into a plastic bag to avoid the dirt going everywhere. It's drenched in enough soil that it'll probably need to be washed on its own.
Be a good idea to handle it yourself to be honest...
You made your way back to the kitchen, having dressed in a plain and loose shirt and baggy pajama pants. Despite how hard it's been to get back and forth lately with limited stock and hours, there was a constant effort from your mom to keep things lively. Autumn flavored scents, warm lighting, and a hot potato dish on the table laid out for you as she washed pots and plates on the side..
Pato: Looks good...
Mom: Always is.
You didn't hesitate to dig in, the savory mix of root veggies and gravy lighting you up in a heartbeat.
Mom: Food's not gonna run away, slow down and savor it!
Pato: Mm... Sorry. Tastes amazing..
Mom: It better, just cause things are crazy out there doesn't mean things gotta be that way here.
Pato: Yeah...
Mom: So?
Pato: Hmm?
Mom: Details! If you're gonna be gone all day I wanna know who you're with.
Pato: Yeah uh.. hold up.
You shuffled around in your pockets before pulling out the business card from earlier. It was still layered with a little mud on the corner.
Your mom took it in hand and gave it a careful look, squinting just a little before a little smile cracks.
Mom: A station number? That's so corny...
Pato: Yeah, you know much about it or-
Mom: It's like... kind of a zodiac thing? Or fortune telling? Old stuff you weren't around for.
Pato: Ah..
She placed the card back down on the table, pointing out the station number.
369.66XM
Mom: People toyed around with what they used to call "Halo Stations", make custom boxes and look around for frequencies. Whole lot of static and nothing, probably was a lot of hearing things that weren't there...
Pato: I was gonna say, XM..
Mom: Probably a lot of loose noise, radiation, I dunno. Your dad had a phase back then.
Pato: Really?
Mom: Mmhmm.
Pato: How come you don't talk about that at all?
Mom: Didn't seem all that big a deal. Got kinda really into it and then dropped it, put it all in a big box in the garage. Tons of money on books and contraptions I never really could get into but... you know, made him excited at the time.
Pato: You still have all of it?
Mom: Yep, are you curious about all that?
Pato: A little.. is it okay if I-
Mom: After you're done and as long as you don't stay up too late.
Pato: Easy..
You quickly finished up what's left of dinner and pocket the card. You started toward the sink to wash your own dish when-
Mom: You don't gotta do that tonight, worked a ton today I can tell.
Pato: A little..
Mom: Yardwork?
Pato: Yeah, with uh.. Mr. Ono down the street.
Mom: I think I remember him, I'll have to thank him at some point.
Pato: Yeah..
Mom: If you get bored I'll be watching TV a bit while I fill out some papers. Maybe pop in?
Pato: Maybe. You remember which box it is?
Mom: One labeled retired. He gave that up pretty hard once he was over it.
Pato: Gotcha, thank you!
With a quick scramble, you've made your way to the garage door. You're careful to make sure both sides are unlocked when you step in, plenty of accidents with that before.
Room is cold, not a touch of insulation against the creaking wooden structure of the walls.
Piles of boxes that make up little towers and seasonal goods stacked up in the corner.
With just a bit of patience you're able to find it deeply buried, a single box labeled "Retired." in a sharpie marker. It was small but heavy, you carefully grab the thing and drag it to your room alongside a box cutter from the nearby tool desk.
You tore the yellowed tape open, a horde of cheap pulpy books yellowed and likely loosened by dust mites with names like "EN/TY/TY" and "Fall of the Solitaire" strangled in old cables. Video tapes and audio books, cassettes from bands you've never really heard of.. and your grail- the most haphazard radio you'd ever seen.
A couple of beakers with red and blue fluids stuck out from the top, hopefully not mercury or something like that..
There's a single sticky note slapped onto the back, "Leave it on overnight with a offering. Turn off in the morning. Please remove offering if ants.."
You guessed there were more than a few accidents....
There didn't seem to be any sort of power cable or port, a screw-on panel at the bottom. Figure it'd have to be battery powered...
You checked the dials until a sharp unnatural sound made you jump in your seat. Guess old batteries were built different. A little glow came from the otherwise analog display.
You placed it down on top of your little wooden wardrobe and pull out the little card Mr. Ono had handed you earlier.
369.66XM
You adjusted the dials, only taking a little trial and error.
Mostly white noise, a light staggering here and there.
You could see what your mom meant, nothing defined but if you really try hard enough you could maybe make out a word.
*Dog, Dog, Dog....*
It was silly, but you kinda were hoping there'd be more to it...
Still, there was mention of a offering. Something that'd summon ants regularly...
Sweets? Maybe it's one of those skeletons made of sugar tapping on the other side. One way to find out...
You quietly returned to the kitchen, grabbing a slice of pound cake from the breadbox. You could make out the television in the living room a door away, your mom watching one of those goofy late night medical dramas that used to squick you out when you were younger. In hindsight, it always looked pretty fake- but you didn't know better. God knows you'd seen worse now.
You went back to your room, placing the poundcake on a little plate next to the radio and...
It cut to complete silence, not a single hymn or crackle left.
Was it dead? The light hadn't turned off but... it was pretty old, so maybe that's just expected at this point. You gave it a few more minutes to see if anything happened and... nothing.
Guess all you could do is leave it on overnight, see if something happens later.
After you'd made sure to set up everything on a secure shelf, you were quick to make your way back to the living room.
Your mom, half asleep, had bundled up with a blanket in the middle of a commercial break.
Pato: You still watching?
Mom: For a little bit, still time if you wanna sneak in a hour. Might be kind of late though, you look pretty tired.
Pato: Not like I got homework, or classes, or anything right now.
Mom: Guess so... you miss it at all?
Pato: I mean... yeah. Don't get to talk to friends IRL much lately..
Mom: Mm, me neither.
Pato: Get scared when they stop calling or anything for weeks. Wish any of them were closer so I could heck but... they're all so far, you know? Around here everyone's too old or like five.
Your mom gave you a little quiet nod.
Mom: I was hoping we'd be out by now but that's looking a good while away... eventually.
Pato: Mmm. When you were a kid, was there anything like that? Like... scary stuff? Kind we're dealing with right now?
Mom: A lot, maybe not the way it's happening but you know.. guess the end of the world felt a little more.. I dunno. Not like this at all.
Pato: Ah... yeah.
Mom: Bad times can't last forever though, people always spring back.
Pato: I guess so..
Mom: I'll make it work.
You rested your head on her shoulder and quietly focused your attention on the television. Your eyelids became heavy.
The curfew, everything slowly shutting down, noises of unholy rattling on occasion outside the walls of this home.
Really felt hard to imagine things getting better anytime soon.
Still, if you could find little moments of respite even in times like these, maybe she was right.
You could let yourself relax for tonight, you'd done more than enough for today..
This is a story at another world's end.
You are the one who pulls the trigger.
The legs of your pants were drenched in soil, hands swollen from the urgent gig.
"Need a funeral before sundown, paying triple wage. - Ono."
He was a man from down the street who always kept busy, used to know a guy who said finding work would keep you alive just a bit longer. Maybe it was like that for him.
The most you'd engaged with him in the past is when he'd hand you some bills to pick up something from the local store, let you keep the change and maybe a tip so you know he'd be good for it.
The two of you worked intensively, and he was kind enough to give you plenty of time to break and rest off the load handed to you.
Not once had you looked over and seen him stop to rest himself though....
You were both on a pretty strict timer, a corpse had til the sun goes out before it became trouble. Wispy little shades rotating around the mound like flies had amassed, waiting for nightfall. Proper funeral or torch the body, anything else would be begging for the dead to rise with a soul not its own..
But so long as there was light, it was easy to quash, each mound of dirt like starving a animal in a cage. The body was wrapped and bound together by layers of blankets over plastic sheets, no face to be seen but the form registered more than enough to have you rattled. You should be used to this by now though, right? People bury their folks in their yard plenty these days...
Maybe the idea of this as normal should've never been...
Mr. Ono turned to look at you, always nerve-wracking each time.. Were you doing a bad job? Could he see the ticking in your head? That's not a real thing, people can't do that-
No. He gave you a warm smile through the sweat and tired eyes.
Ono: Think you've had enough, I can cover from here.
He scooted to the side, showing what he'd been working on for the past hour. A pile of stone melded together and prettied up with heat and clay into a grave.
You shook your head at him.
Pato: We're almost done, let me at least-
Ono: He should be fine, ground's been salted proper. From here, it's just making it look nice and clean. Know it's not really ideal these days to most but... think in the end we'd all like a little bit of dignity, yeah?
He placed down he shovel to the side, you followed suit by jabbing the head of the tool into the ground to keep it still. He gave you a bit of stinkeye for it, followed by a smirk that eased tension.
Pato: I do something funny or-
Ono: I mean you're a kid, you're kinda supposed to a little. You're Mrs. Felix's kid if I recall, yeah?
Pato: Yeah, you two know each other?
Ono: Yeah, helped her once with the coin machine at the market I used to work. She was worried the thing was eating her change, so we ended up calling in maintenance. Seemed nice, could tell she was going through it though. Guess everyone is these days.
Pato: Yeah... guess that's really why I'm here, you know? Like...
Ono: Didn't wish you were but... circumstances. I get it.
He goes through a wallet with a thick stack of bills and slaps down practically the entire thing.
Ono: Take it, you've done good work today.
Pato: T-that's so much! I-
Ono: Yeah, and you need it.
Pato: Can I really have this?? Can you even afford to like-
Ono: It's technically his cash, not mine. I asked the family ahead if I could use the money in his wallet to help pay someone to get the job done in time. Said they were fine as long as nothing else was touched. You're all good.
Pato: Know him personally at all?
Ono: Little. Mr. Tuning, bit of a stubborn guy. Whatever he was doing out so late... would hardly call it worth it seeing this. Neighbors informed his family when they found him roasting in the morning sun, found a funeral preferable. Chimed in, told them I'd see what I could do. Think this is solid for how quick this all had to be.
Pato: Hardly knew him then?
Ono: Not enough to call him a friend.
Pato: Doing a lot then.
Ono: Hate to see anyone get mauled, even more have to risk other folks getting hurt by whatever crawls into his flesh like that. People will mourn so at the very least I can offer the comfort of knowing they can visit and give their final respects.
Couldn't disagree too much, just.... a lot to think of when you returned.
Pato: I get you.
Ono: You walked here, yeah?
Pato: Mmhmm! Not too far from here.
Ono: Your mom planning to pick you up? Know we still got a couple hours before we gotta start worrying, but nothing's ever on a strict schedule like that.
He swatted away a few of the nearby shades fluttering about, little forms crumpling like paper and being carried off by the wind. In general, it seemed like they had started to move on or fizzle since their access to a fresh host was more than wasted.
Pato: No she.. doesn't really know honestly. Hates it when I go out to work but I dunno. She need help.
Ono: I see.. Want me to go back with you? Least make sure you get back without issue.
Pato: I'll be fine..
Ono: No good then.
Pato: Mm?
Ono: If you're going to be stubborn the least I can do is make sure you can take full advantage.
He gestured with a finger to stay put before quickly shuffling back inside.
He returns with a steel bat, handle held out to you.
Pato: Are you giving me-
Ono: Those things hate man made steel. Should ward them off if any stragglers show up early, make your house safer. You get a sling and carry that around with you whenever possible, cloth belt works.
Pato: What if I don't care? What if I'm too lazy?
Ono: You'd make your mom sad, no?
Pato: Yeah. I guess.
Ono: Don't get smart with me in a stupid way. Everyone knows that one guy who reuses to get help. Never ends happy for anyone. Nip that in the bud before it becomes a problem. Just scoot back, stay safe and feel free to treat yourselves a little. Live when you still can, si?
You take a moment to let that all process.
Pato: We're alive though right now, yeah?
Ono: Living and being alive are two different things. One's a choice and the other is a state of being. You gotta do both.
Pato: Okay.
Ono: Good.
You stood there awkwardly for a moment.
Ono: That really got you quiet? You're silly.
You finally spoke up, ignoring his comment mostly.
Pato: Are you going to be safe? Got a place to stay?
Ono: I'll figure it out, got options nearby. For now I say you start scrambling, we good? Before you go... let me just hand you a little something.
He reached deep into his jacket and flashed you a business card. Phone number, radio frequency, his name and occupation listed as "E. Ono, Freelancer."
Is that really a job? You pocket away the card carefully.
Pato: Thank you, I'll keep it around
Ono: Give that to your mom, let her know who you've been around all day. Better to be open about details than make her worry, you know?
Pato: What's your real job? Like, it can't just be this.
Ono: Little bit of everything, bit wordy to explain right now, and just a courtesy after today. If you wanna know leave me a call. Seriously gotta start going now.
Pato: Yeah. Guess I'll see you again?
Ono: Better circumstances next time hopefully. Stay safe.
You start getting your feet going, still facing toward him and giving him a little wave.
Pato: Don't get in trouble!
Ono: Straight home, no side trips or detours!
____
After a bit of a jog, you made it back home without a snag.
Unlocking the door was a bit harder today- you heard a familiar voice greet you.
Mom: Pato!
Pato: Yeah!
Mom: Don't yeah me.
Pato: I can have a yeah today!
Mom: Oh? And why's that?
You finally get the door open.
You wave around the huge stack of bills openly.
Pato: I got the rent!
As she turned to see you she made a bit of a noise, eyes intensively focused on the dirt caked all over you.
Mom: Oh my god! Where were you all day?!
Pato: Doing a quick job, some yardwork. It was pretty easy...
Mom:... Yardwork right now? Who can even-
Pato: Just a neighbor, no big deal. Got paid good.
Mom: These rich folks are going to kill me.. you know you don't have to be doing that...
Pato: School's shut down and all my friends are across town. Don't got anything better right now.
Mom: You're 14.
Pato: So? You worked at 14.
Mom: Illegally! I had to lie and say I was 16, and the other staff blackmailed me with that! Back then we really needed money like that in a way I never want you to have to go through!
Pato: We need it like that today mom...
She tilts her head back before giving out a long sigh.
Mom: Just don't do anything crazy, okay? No selling drugs or guns or-
Pato: You know nobody's gonna let me run around with a gun like that.
Mom: I'm serious.
Pato: I know just...
You frantically pulled the cash out of your pocket.
Pato: At least this one time just.. let me help with rent.
It's insane that even when the world was burning down, rent still existed..
Mom: I love you but.. don't make this a regular thing, okay? I'll always figure it out-
She constantly worked herself to the bone, could she really be promising that?
Pato: You don't do anything crazy too.
A little nod from her.
Mom: I know.
Pato: You have to be careful...
Mom: You're right...
She paused before pointing to the hallway.
Mom: Get yourself cleaned and we’ll heat up something, sound good.
Pato: Yeah.
A quick shower, a change of clothes, and today's fit stuffed into a plastic bag to avoid the dirt going everywhere. It's drenched in enough soil that it'll probably need to be washed on its own.
Be a good idea to handle it yourself to be honest...
You made your way back to the kitchen, having dressed in a plain and loose shirt and baggy pajama pants. Despite how hard it's been to get back and forth lately with limited stock and hours, there was a constant effort from your mom to keep things lively. Autumn flavored scents, warm lighting, and a hot potato dish on the table laid out for you as she washed pots and plates on the side..
Pato: Looks good...
Mom: Always is.
You didn't hesitate to dig in, the savory mix of root veggies and gravy lighting you up in a heartbeat.
Mom: Food's not gonna run away, slow down and savor it!
Pato: Mm... Sorry. Tastes amazing..
Mom: It better, just cause things are crazy out there doesn't mean things gotta be that way here.
Pato: Yeah...
Mom: So?
Pato: Hmm?
Mom: Details! If you're gonna be gone all day I wanna know who you're with.
Pato: Yeah uh.. hold up.
You shuffled around in your pockets before pulling out the business card from earlier. It was still layered with a little mud on the corner.
Your mom took it in hand and gave it a careful look, squinting just a little before a little smile cracks.
Mom: A station number? That's so corny...
Pato: Yeah, you know much about it or-
Mom: It's like... kind of a zodiac thing? Or fortune telling? Old stuff you weren't around for.
Pato: Ah..
She placed the card back down on the table, pointing out the station number.
369.66XM
Mom: People toyed around with what they used to call "Halo Stations", make custom boxes and look around for frequencies. Whole lot of static and nothing, probably was a lot of hearing things that weren't there...
Pato: I was gonna say, XM..
Mom: Probably a lot of loose noise, radiation, I dunno. Your dad had a phase back then.
Pato: Really?
Mom: Mmhmm.
Pato: How come you don't talk about that at all?
Mom: Didn't seem all that big a deal. Got kinda really into it and then dropped it, put it all in a big box in the garage. Tons of money on books and contraptions I never really could get into but... you know, made him excited at the time.
Pato: You still have all of it?
Mom: Yep, are you curious about all that?
Pato: A little.. is it okay if I-
Mom: After you're done and as long as you don't stay up too late.
Pato: Easy..
You quickly finished up what's left of dinner and pocket the card. You started toward the sink to wash your own dish when-
Mom: You don't gotta do that tonight, worked a ton today I can tell.
Pato: A little..
Mom: Yardwork?
Pato: Yeah, with uh.. Mr. Ono down the street.
Mom: I think I remember him, I'll have to thank him at some point.
Pato: Yeah..
Mom: If you get bored I'll be watching TV a bit while I fill out some papers. Maybe pop in?
Pato: Maybe. You remember which box it is?
Mom: One labeled retired. He gave that up pretty hard once he was over it.
Pato: Gotcha, thank you!
With a quick scramble, you've made your way to the garage door. You're careful to make sure both sides are unlocked when you step in, plenty of accidents with that before.
Room is cold, not a touch of insulation against the creaking wooden structure of the walls.
Piles of boxes that make up little towers and seasonal goods stacked up in the corner.
With just a bit of patience you're able to find it deeply buried, a single box labeled "Retired." in a sharpie marker. It was small but heavy, you carefully grab the thing and drag it to your room alongside a box cutter from the nearby tool desk.
You tore the yellowed tape open, a horde of cheap pulpy books yellowed and likely loosened by dust mites with names like "EN/TY/TY" and "Fall of the Solitaire" strangled in old cables. Video tapes and audio books, cassettes from bands you've never really heard of.. and your grail- the most haphazard radio you'd ever seen.
A couple of beakers with red and blue fluids stuck out from the top, hopefully not mercury or something like that..
There's a single sticky note slapped onto the back, "Leave it on overnight with a offering. Turn off in the morning. Please remove offering if ants.."
You guessed there were more than a few accidents....
There didn't seem to be any sort of power cable or port, a screw-on panel at the bottom. Figure it'd have to be battery powered...
You checked the dials until a sharp unnatural sound made you jump in your seat. Guess old batteries were built different. A little glow came from the otherwise analog display.
You placed it down on top of your little wooden wardrobe and pull out the little card Mr. Ono had handed you earlier.
369.66XM
You adjusted the dials, only taking a little trial and error.
Mostly white noise, a light staggering here and there.
You could see what your mom meant, nothing defined but if you really try hard enough you could maybe make out a word.
*Dog, Dog, Dog....*
It was silly, but you kinda were hoping there'd be more to it...
Still, there was mention of a offering. Something that'd summon ants regularly...
Sweets? Maybe it's one of those skeletons made of sugar tapping on the other side. One way to find out...
You quietly returned to the kitchen, grabbing a slice of pound cake from the breadbox. You could make out the television in the living room a door away, your mom watching one of those goofy late night medical dramas that used to squick you out when you were younger. In hindsight, it always looked pretty fake- but you didn't know better. God knows you'd seen worse now.
You went back to your room, placing the poundcake on a little plate next to the radio and...
It cut to complete silence, not a single hymn or crackle left.
Was it dead? The light hadn't turned off but... it was pretty old, so maybe that's just expected at this point. You gave it a few more minutes to see if anything happened and... nothing.
Guess all you could do is leave it on overnight, see if something happens later.
After you'd made sure to set up everything on a secure shelf, you were quick to make your way back to the living room.
Your mom, half asleep, had bundled up with a blanket in the middle of a commercial break.
Pato: You still watching?
Mom: For a little bit, still time if you wanna sneak in a hour. Might be kind of late though, you look pretty tired.
Pato: Not like I got homework, or classes, or anything right now.
Mom: Guess so... you miss it at all?
Pato: I mean... yeah. Don't get to talk to friends IRL much lately..
Mom: Mm, me neither.
Pato: Get scared when they stop calling or anything for weeks. Wish any of them were closer so I could heck but... they're all so far, you know? Around here everyone's too old or like five.
Your mom gave you a little quiet nod.
Mom: I was hoping we'd be out by now but that's looking a good while away... eventually.
Pato: Mmm. When you were a kid, was there anything like that? Like... scary stuff? Kind we're dealing with right now?
Mom: A lot, maybe not the way it's happening but you know.. guess the end of the world felt a little more.. I dunno. Not like this at all.
Pato: Ah... yeah.
Mom: Bad times can't last forever though, people always spring back.
Pato: I guess so..
Mom: I'll make it work.
You rested your head on her shoulder and quietly focused your attention on the television. Your eyelids became heavy.
The curfew, everything slowly shutting down, noises of unholy rattling on occasion outside the walls of this home.
Really felt hard to imagine things getting better anytime soon.
Still, if you could find little moments of respite even in times like these, maybe she was right.
You could let yourself relax for tonight, you'd done more than enough for today..
