Work Text:
Sleep never came easy for you. Your insomnia was both a blessing and a curse. A curse cause you were always fucking tired. But a blessing because all of your best ideas seemed to come to you at night. And tonight was no different. While the rest of the country slept peacefully through the witching hours of the night, here you were knees deep into your latest project, jamming to some toons on your headset.
Your current project was the renovation of an old doll house. What was once pink and pastel was slowly becoming a dark Victorian-goth-inspired doll home. You're not really sure why the doll house or theme had originally struck you, it was just as random as the rest of your projects. Last week it had been turning an old saw blade into a clock. And the week before it was thrifting old plates that turned into mosaic sculptures.
Your mind was a beautifully chaotic mess of ideas and interests that never seemed to stagnate for too long. And although no one could call your Etsy store anything other than a collection of random curiosities, you wouldn't change that for a thing.
So here you went, gluing tiny trim, painting floors and ceilings, adding ornate wallpaper, and positioning Victorian furniture. Nothing, and certainly not sleep, was breaking you out of your current zone.
CRASH
…
What was that? Peeling your headphones off, you listen into the dead silence of your apartment. Your roommate was spending the night with her boyfriend so what was that noise? Had you imagined it?
You continued to listen, but nothing but the routine nightly ambiance reached your ears.
Shrugging, you move to put your headset back on when you hear something. Hushed whispers. Immediately on alert you quickly and quietly rise to your feet and grab the nearest weapon. In your studio, that ended up being a half-inch by 2 ft wooden dowel. Perhaps not the sturdiest of weapons, but you're sure to get a few good hits in before it snaps.
Sneaking out of your studio room and into the hall you listen to the whispers. They seemingly emanate from your kitchen.
You start to build a nervous sweat as you begin to pick out three similar yet distinct voices.
Fuck. Maybe you should have tried calling the police first. That probably would have been the smart thing to do, but you're committed now. You want to at least see what you'll be dealing with first if nothing else.
Creeping further down the hall towards the voices in the kitchen, you pause at the doorway to the lounge and kitchen. Listening in you continue to hear the faint whispering, as well as…skittering? What?
Peeking out the hall and towards the kitchen, you first notice that your fridge is wide open. Second, there don’t appear to be any you-sized intruders. And third, there ARE three intruders. Three bitty intruders that is. One is standing on your counter watching over the other two. Another one is in your fridge throwing food down to the one standing on the floor. Each one is wearing a black, red, and yellow get-up, as well as sporting a pair of bright red eyelights.
Oh fuck, you’re being robbed by Edgies. Three Edgies at least. Oh god, what if there’s more? Do edgies have pact tactics? Is there a hoard hiding somewhere in your house waiting to spring upon you? It’s a fucking Edgy invasion!
After your mini panic, you survey the living room and what you can see of the kitchen. It’s just the three you think. But that's still 3 more than you want rummaging around in your home. What do you do? Yell? Run at them? Ask them to kindly fuck off?
While you’re pondering your options the Edgy in the fridge, Fridge Edgy, tosses out a packet of lunch meat before the little guy on the floor is prepared. Being pelted in the face with the lunch meat the Edgy falls onto their ass with a yelp. We’ll call him Floor Edgy.
Having seen the whole thing you couldn’t help but let out a snort of amusement. Three sets of red glowing eyelights snap to you in the darkness.
“Shit” you mummer under your breath.
“let’s go!” The counter Edgy yells before turning to face you, eyelights blazing.
You watch as Fridge Edgy disappears and reappears next to Counter Edgy. Floor Edgy quickly scampers to his feet.
Deciding to just come out you slowly walk out from the hallway. Counter Edgy scowled at you while Fridge Edgy growled. Floor Edgy squeaked and teleported behind the other two.
“Hey there, little dudes.” You said awkwardly as you slowly approached the kitchen counter. Fridge Edgy snarled, and with no warning you found yourself diving to the floor to dodge a volley of bone attacks sent your way.
“Fuck!” Evil cackles followed your exclamation as you quickly rolled to avoid more.
“fang! let’s go!” one of the Edgies calls, it’s hard to be certain, but you think it was Counter Edgy.
Sitting up in a hurry you take stock of your surroundings. The countertop is empty now. Floor Edgy is fretting nervously by your door, holding up the cat flap with a busted latch. Guess that answers how they got in. Counter Edgy and Fridge Edgy are arguing on your couch back.
“fuck off blaze! i wanna watch them squirm!” Fridge Edgy yells, yanking his arm away from Counter Edgy, or Blaze you guess.
“let’s go fang! now. ” Blaze snarls, grabbing for Fridge Edgy again, AKA Fang.
Fang snarls and pushes Blaze back who stumbles, winces, and falls onto his right knee.
Taking the opportunity since they’re both distracted, you spring up and grasp one bitty in each hand. Fang snarls and instantly sinks his razor-sharp teeth deep into the flesh of your hand, making you hiss in pain. Blaze cries out and squeezes his sockets shut in pain when you grasp him, despite your hold only being firm and not crushing.
“b-blaze! f-fang!” Floor Edgy cries, panic in his small voice.
“run rust! just go!” Blaze calls after him, his voice rough with pain.
“b-but-” Rust whimpers, tears building in his eye sockets.
“GO!” Blaze yells after him, voice firm.
You don’t see what Rust decides to do though, as your sole attention is being demanded by the demon that is Fang, who is quickly turning your hand into ground beef with his bloody fangs.
“Fuck, fuck fuck! OW!” You cry, finally unable to take the pain anymore as you release him with tears in your eyes. He cackles and disappears mid-fall. Looking around you find no more bitties. They’re all gone. All but Blaze who’s panting and wincing in your grip.
Left hand bloody and torn you walk shakily to the kitchen counter. Pulling out a large, deep, metal pot and lid you set the edgy down within it and close the lid. The center of the lid is glass with vent holes and you watch as Blaze just lays there panting and wincing in pain.
Your own pain and bloody mess pull you away to tend to your own wounds first. Rinsing your mangled hand under the water, you grimace at the bits of dangling flesh that hang from your hand. Shakily you wrap it up, tearing up at the pain. Finally bandaged you pop a few painkillers.
With your hand taken care of now, you need to figure out what to do with Blaze the Edgy. Fuck. Looking down at your stinging and bandaged hand you can’t help but feel you made a mistake, and now you’d be paying for it. But one step at a time. First, what do you do with the bitty?