Chapter Text
You just stole a boat.
Well, OK
You didn't….technically you did but you didn't mean to.
You were minding your own business, walking around the rock pool of the beach.
You were never really go to the beach that often, but it was a sunny day so you didn't want to pass up the opportunity.
Bucket in hand you scrounge around the water between the seaweed to find crabs and other little creatures that might be hiding.
Your bucket already has Two crabs and a little shrimp in it!
It's a childish hobby. You are aware of that but it reminds you of your childhood, and who doesn't want to see some sea life?
You mess around the shore line for a long while, until the sun starts to lower and set behind the waves of the ocean
Just as you reach down to pick up a nice looking seashell you hear the sound of voices behind you.
It's late, you're a woman and the beach doesn't have any source lights.
You quickly empty your bucket back into the rockpools before you pull your hood up and speed walk across the sand back towards your bus stop.
“Hey there love, come here a sec”
Your heart leaps in your throat, heart pounding as you ignore them.
You don’t turn around.
The voice comes again, closer this time, heavier.
“yo, I’m talkin’ to you. Don’t be rude.”
You walk faster, footsteps crunching in the dark sand. You glance over your shoulder.
Five men pushing each other drunkenly and laughing obnoxiously, their silhouettes looking horrifying against the fading light.
They're not dressed for a walk. In jeans and polo shirts, one of them is even in a black suit. So they specifically saw you and are now approaching
Fuck
You grip the handle of your empty bucket tight so that you feel your knuckles whiten.
There's no one else in sight. The bus stop is a ten-minute walk through the dunes, and you’d have to pass them to get there.
….
You veer off away from them as they heckle you still, offering to give you a good time.
You feel like they're trying to herd you…. So you spot an old dock and head to it. There’s a boat moored at the end, a weathered thing, barely floating.
You remember seeing it earlier, thinking it looked abandoned. Now, it looks like a way out.
They won't be able to out swim a boat right?
You break into a run.
They shout behind you. Swearing. Calling you names. One of them whistles loudly between his fingers, making you jolt and sprint faster.
Your boots slip on wet sand as you hit the dock, racing to the end. The boat rocks slightly with the tide, tied loosely to a post. No time to hesitate. You untie it, throw the rope on board, and leap in. You fall heavy onto the tarp covering the boat but in your panic you don't move it. Only pulling it off the little engine at the back of the boat.
The men reach the end of the dock just as you push off.
“You serious?” one yells. “Get back here you stupid bitch!”
They don’t follow. They don't jump in after you. Maybe they’re too stunned. Maybe they don't want to get wet.
But their voices carry across the water, full of venom.
“Come on we just wanted to have a chat!”
“Look at this bitch! You just stole a boat” they laugh and point at you as you flinch. One pulling out his phone to film you. Making white hot anxiety shoot down your spine.
Then they start to take their clothes off, dipping into the ocean.
One of them hurls a rock. It splashes into the water several feet away
The boat sways slightly as you scramble to the little outboard motor and pull the cord.
Nothing.
You try again.
Still nothing.
Come on!
Finally it splutters to life and the little propeller pushes the boat forwards.
The men shout louder but you don't listen. Trying to learn to steer the boat as it takes you further and further away from shore.
Then the engine puffs and stops working
“Oh shit” you mutter
You pull the cord and it doesn't work, almost breaking it from the amount of times you pull it.
No paddles either.
And then you’re just… drifting.
You sit down hard on the wooden bench, heart racing and stomach twisting in knots.
You are far away from the shore. It's all happened so fast.
So there you are, pacing on the boat as it rocks with the power of the waves hitting the boat. tears building with panic.
“Oh god, oh god what do I do” you say frantically as the boat almost topples with the pacing. So you sit down and bounce your legs. Uselessly trying to paddle back to shore with your hands…
The wind shifts. A chill sweeps over the water. You look up.
Storm clouds.
They gather fast. rolling in with a loud boom and a flash.
“Fuck my life”
You’ve barely had time to brace when the first gust hits, sending a spray of salty water into your face. The boat rocks and water come splashing in.
Then the rain comes.
Sheets of it.
Waves rise, slamming against the sides of the boat. More water spills over, soaking your legs, your hands, your face. You try to bail it out with your tiny plastic bucket, but it’s useless.
You look up with your heart pounding to catch the huge wave that is about to down on your little dinky boat.
You scream and lose your footing.
The world tips. Your body lifts and slams into the freezing water. You flail and try to swim, all that information about not panicking and floating has completely spilled from your head.
You go under.
Water fills your ears first. Then in your lungs. You kick wildly, trying to surface, but the sea has no up or down. Only the unforgiving cold of the water invading you.
You scream but only bubbles come out.
You think of the shore. The crabs. The quiet.
Friends and family….
You think of nothing
…….
…..
…
..
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
You wake coughing.
Hacking out water and spitting onto the grainy ground.
There’s sand in your mouth. Your arms burn, your throat aches.
“Ow…” you rasp, the word tearing your throat like glass. You blink, rubbing the grit from your eyes, vision swimming with salt and sun.
You’re sprawled face-down on a beach, soaked and trembling. Your clothes are heavy with seawater, clinging to your skin. You try to push yourself up, but your muscles scream in protest. Slowly, shakily, you sit up and look over yourself.
Reddened skin, angry with sunburn. Scrapes and welts down your arms and knees from coral or rocks you assume.
The skin on your hands is pruned and raw. You’re shivering, even though the sun beats down like it wants to boil you alive.
That’s when it hits.
You look up and down the shoreline.
Nothing.
No buildings. No people.
No sounds but the waves, the wind, and the rustle of palm fronds in front of you.
And that sick, leaden feeling coils in your stomach.
You don’t know where you are.
Your chest tightens.
You try to breathe slowly, but it doesn’t work. Your breath comes fast and shallow. You can’t seem to get enough air.
Your heart slams against your ribs, your hands start to tingle. You squeeze your eyes shut but it only makes the black dots worse.
no one knows you’re here
No one’s coming
What if this is it?
You gasp and choke on your own spit. A sob wracks through your chest and turns into a cough. Your vision blurs again, but this time it’s from tears.
You grip two fistfuls of sand, grounding yourself in its warmth, the way it crumbles between your fingers.
Breathe. In. Out. Again.
You count.
Five in. Hold. Five out.
You focus on the grains of sand. The scent of salt. The sound of the waves. One sense at a time, until your heart begins to slow.
You swallow hard, and your throat aches with effort. Your face is hot with the shame of fear but you’re alive.
Alive.
That counts for something.
You wipe your nose with the sleeve of your hoodie and force yourself to your feet. Your knees wobble but hold.
“Come on y/n….come on girl.” You rasp to yourself and tremble. Coughing you look around the beach.
You see your boat and gasp, scrambling back over to the overturned boat. With effort you push it over only to see it'd in tatters.
You almost start crying again but you will yourself to not.
“OK…. pant OK…” you mutter to yourself.
You look over at the lush jungle that Seems to span the entirety of the area your in, mountains stretch high up towards the sky, snowy…
You swallow and wrap your arms around your ribs. Maybe you could find people to help you. You're at a beach so there must be somebody here.
You pull your soaked hoodie off and squeeze the water out before limping towards the forest
This is fine.
The jungle is massive . As soon as you step into the jungle it seems to come to life with sounds of bugs and birds. The trees rustle and sway with the wind. You can hardly see the sky with how thick the bush is.
vines hang like ropes from trees. The air is damp and heavy with the scent of moss and wet earth, something sweet hits your nose too. You tremble a little and shuffle further into the lush jungle.
You push through the foliage slowly, careful not to trip. Every plant looks foreign. Some leaves shimmer faintly when the light touches them, like they’re covered in fine glitter. Others pulse slightly, like they’re breathing.
You've never seen anything like this before. Sure you've read your fair share of nature books and know a little bit about foliage and fawn but this? The plants look magic.
You reach out and touch a bright red petal of a flower that is kinda shaped like corn. You pull your hand back as the petals slowly close up and tuck tight against its stem.
Woah…..
Then a flower catches your eye.
It glows with an otherworldly light, nestled between two twisting roots. It's as large as your face! Kinda reminding you of a giant daisy. It's petals are an electric blue that shimmers in the light.
It looks like something out of a fantasy novel.
Are a while of staring and prodding your stomach cramps hard. Oh. You haven't eaten anything all day yesterday and now today.
You force yourself away from the flower and keep moving.
Just a few more steps into the trees, and you spot something else, tall trunks that mimic palm trees, but instead of coconuts they have multiple clusters of odd looking fruit.
They're oval-shaped, about the size of a pineapple, and their skin ripples with a smooth gradient from deep violet to a soft, glowing blue.
“Pretty”
The fruit glistens in the light as juice beads on the skin.
Your mouth waters.
You hesitate.
“They’re probably not safe.” you mutter and look around.
But the pain in your stomach hits again, harder this time.
You stagger forward and wrap your arms around the tree, shaking it with what little strength you have.
A single fruit drops and lands in the underbrush with a heavy thud.
You pick it up.
It’s warm and sticky so you sniff it.
It smells… sweet. Like honey.
You eye the glowing petals around the jungle again, then the fruit.
“Fuck it,” you mutter, what have you got to loose? Some animal or the elements will eventually end up killing you. You aren't even sure if you want to find people to help you now….knowing how humans are anyways.
They got you into this mess after all
The skin splits beneath your teeth. The juice floods your mouth.
It tastes amazing .
But the fruit isn't all fleshy goodness, you get the top of your front teeth in before you hit something hard. You grunt and pull back to glare at it, but simply eat around it.
You devour as much of the fruit as you can like a starving animal, licking the sticky juice from your hands when you're done.
The pip seed thingy is the only thing that's left in your hand. You chuck it on the ground and wipe your hands in your now damp shorts.
you feel a little better.
You wipe your mouth and keep walking, flinching and yelping at every little sound or rustle of leaves.
You aren't sure we're you are going or why you're walking this way but you can't stay stagnant for long. You feel like you could be picked off easier.
You walk and walk until the trees get less thick. Having a run in with a snake, scaring it away when you screech so loud you hear birds fly from the tree tops. A wild hog with stunning white stripes snorts at you and chases you around in circles, and stopping to look at a tree frog that's the size of a cat.
Rain pours down on you so suddenly you curse the sky's and kick at the rocks on the ground. Accepting you're just going to have to be wet..
“Whatever god, universe OR cosmic horror entity hates me, I will find you!” You yell into the sky
The terrain is now rocky and dlippy, your legs are aching and body heavy and soaking wet instead of just damp now. But you push yourself.
Then you spot a curtain of moss over in a corner between two big boulders
You head towards the moss and stumble upon the entrance to a cave, half-hidden behind dead ferns and giant dried roots.
A dry place to rest!
It’s dark when you limp in.
But not empty.
The air smells damp, but not rotten. It’s warmer here, a lot warmer, the only sound is drips of water falling from your hair.
A small nest-like stricture is tucked into the corner making you tense.
It's lined with thick animal pelts, you don't recognise the furs but one is suspiciously spotted like a leopard. Making you feel a little sick.
Looking to the right you spot stone bowls, some of them are filled with what looks like clean water, others with dry leaves or unidentifiable food scraps.
It’s lived in.
Your chest tightens with cautious hope.
Someone lives here. Or lived here. You aren't sure if you like that or not. It seems so primitive.
You run your had along the ways of the cave as you inch forwards
This is so stupid. Why are you doing this….
The cave is pretty small, so you know nobody else is here, you gently kneel down on the pelts and feel how thick they feel. But your hand hits something in the dark.
Bones.
Piled in the far corner and in the pelt nest. They look long and old, skulls of animals and rib bones seem to be separated from the rest of the pile. And one skull looks human.
You freeze. The blood drains from your face.
No. No no no.
You back away, hand clamped over your mouth as bile rises. Your stomach flips violently. You double over and retch.
Your puke splatters along the corner over the cave.
“F-ughhh” you slump against the wall as your vision blurs
It’s like your insides are on fire now. You feel like your skin is on fire! Your cheeks are extremely hot.
Your legs buckle, and you crash backwards onto the pelts.
The fruit… you realise.
You try to sit up but you can’t. You feel too sick.
Your body is heavy, too hot. You feel sweat bead down your forehead, your spine arching as another wave of nausea rolls through you.
“a-ah,” you whisper, voice slurred. “What… was that…”
You barely register the heat climbing your body or the tremors in your hands before everything fades to black.
—---
Cross huffs as he drags his nest kill back to his den.
His heavy pelt cloak is starting to piss him off. It clings and tickles at the edges of his spine, caught on bone and snagging every time he moves. He snarls and flicks it back with a sharp motion. it's making it harder for him to drag his kill.
A giant white jaguar.
It wasn't an easy kill, evident to the claw marks covering his bones and his black ragged pants shredded up.
All this could have been avoided, ofcourse, if killer didn't provoke him into attacking him and piss nightmare off.
They were both ordered to the outskirts of the island for nine moons to ‘think about what they done’.
He's not a kit anymore! He doesn't deserve or need this type of treatment!
With an agitated grunt cross hikes up the rocky terrain and yanks the jaguar over his shoulders for the rest of the hike.
Surely Nightmare would see it. See the size of this thing. See the blood. The effort . The discipline .
Surely this was enough.
He didn’t need punishment.
He needed respect.
And he wasn't getting any in their pack.
Cross growls under his breath as he comes up to his cave. Imagining scenarios were cross is welcomed back with open arms and apologies from everyone. His chest puffs out in pride.
But he immediately stops when he catches the scent of someone in his den….his body goes rigid and he drops his kill onto the ground. His teeth bared and his tail tucked he slashes the moss curtain away and snarls.
In his nest is a human.
His claws itch to sink into the humans flesh and tear it apart. He reaches out and turns the human around roughly
He stops for a second.
The human is hot. Very very hot, her face is red and sweaty. She looks weak and sick.
Cross warbles and leans down to the humans face, feeling her forehead with the back of his hand. She's burning
He keeps his hand at the human's forehead. The feeling of skin is novel to cross, his finger moves down to her cheek and he squishes them together.
Crosses instinct to kill is high, but he thinks for a moment….
Maybe he could bring this human to nightmare, alive would be better than dead.
It would show nightmare that he has restraint! He doesn't just kill things for the sake of killing like killer does!
His chest puffs again and his tail wags slightly in self satisfaction.
As Cross leans in closer to take in her scent his nose twitches.
Blethroot.
The scent is faint but unmistakable. Sweet and sickly.
He snarls low in his throat, baring his teeth. “Stupid,” he mutters. “Stupid, soft little thing.”
The Blethroot fruit was poisonous, even the kits knew that.
Only good for baiting prey dumb enough to eat it and to get the milk from the seed.
It glowed for God's sake.
That alone should’ve screamed danger.
Cross clicks his tongue in frustration, watching the human’s breath hitch and whimper as her face flushed further red with fever.
She wouldn’t survive the night like this.
He rolls his eyes and growls to himself, of course he found a stupid human to keep.
He reaches out with a begrudging huff and cups her face between his hands, tilting it gently toward him. He grits his teeth and snatches the stone bowl nearby, filled with water from the spring near the cave.
He dips a cloth into the bowl and wrings it out. Carefully, he dabs at her forehead, temples, and the flushed line of her neck. Her brow twitches in the smallest show of relief.
“Tch. You’re lucky I found you stupid.” he grumbles.
Cross tugs at the wet, heavy fabric clinging to her body. The human whimpers faintly, but doesn’t stir.
Cross works quickly, sharp claws nimble as he strips away the soaked clothes. Each piece falls to the cave floor with a soft, wet slap.
He pauses, staring at her bare skin with a furrowed brow and a sense of urgency.
She was fragile.
Soft in all the wrong ways. Not built for the wild. Her body has cuts and wounds all over, making him frown.
He growls again and grabs a pelt from the nest, his favorite one. It's nice and thick to keep in the warmth, He wraps it around her, gently tucking it tight beneath her arms, then another across her legs. She shivers once, then goes still.
He creeps briefly back to the cave entrance to drag his kill inside. Shoving the jaguar body Into the corner and going back to the sick human.
Satisfied, Cross settles back on his haunches and wipes his hands on his pants, eyeing her.
Her breathing is shallow but steady now, the worst of the fever momentarily soothed.
He leans in tilting his head.
And squishes her cheeks between his knuckles.
The human whines softly, her face scrunching up in protest, a pathetic little sound slipping from her dry lips.
Cross's tail wags.
“hm” he mumbles, amused despite himself. “You’ve got the strength of a newborn pup.”
His clawed fingers release her cheek, brushing one last time across the hot skin of her jaw. He sighs deeply and looks down at the small thing…. As much as he hates to admit it, killer is right about one thing.
…..He needs affection to function normally.
He hesitates, looking over the human. She must smell like him so no other creatures mess with her….yes, so he has to cuddle.
He looks around like someone is judging him before purple dusts his cheeks.
So cross crawls into the nest beside her, telling himself it's to help her get better, so he can hand her off to nightmare in peak condition.
The warmth of the pelts doesn’t compare to the warmth of a living body, so soft and comforting.
Cross wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her in close, curling his larger form around her small, trembling one. His tail curls around her leg as he settles.
For a long moment, he says nothing. Just breathes in her scent watching her chest rise and fall with life.
He rests his chin atop her head with lidded eyes.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, barely audible.
“Only ‘til I hand you over to Nightmare.”
With a flick of his ear and another slow huff, he mutters
“…I’m getting soft.”
And despite himself, he doesn’t pull away.