Chapter Text
Micheal was burning. He could hear the screams of the other doomed souls in that place, a cacophony of agony and hatred filling his head. He felt his mask become painfully hot and the string had already snapped. He watched it crumple away into ash. A single clear voice cut through the roar.
“MICHEAL! MICHEAL! Don't leave me here! MICHEALL!” It was his farther, crying out for his help even though Micheal knew he deserved to burn in the deepest pit of hell for what he did. Micheal smiled to himself, though it didn’t last long as the flames licked at his skin, and God, it hurt. And Micheal screamed. He barely heard it as the roar filled his head completely. He didn’t notice the fire was no longer eating at his body. He didn’t notice that his screams cut through the air clearly now. He didn’t notice that he wasn’t burning. And so, he screamed. He came to his senses and finally realised that he wasn’t on fire. he stopped screaming and looked around.
He was in a dingy alleyway, rotting bags slumped against the wall and a grimy green bin overflowed with rubbish in the corner. How did he get in an alleyway? He was burning, and then he wasn’t. Finally, he looked towards the entrance, towards a city with cars whizzing by in a blur. There was a small gathering of people looking into the alley, they probably heard his screams. Shit. He curled further into the shadows of the alley, attempting to hide himself and his rotting body from the eyes peering into the alley. Micheal focuses on a single voice growing closer to the entrance of the alley.
“Oh, this is the same alley Kayne dropped us into? What a coincidence! A crowd you say? I’ll find out what's going on... Excuse me? What's happening?”
“We all heard screaming from the alley, so we need someone to see if there is anyone inside who needs help. I thought I saw movement earlier, but I don't know.”
“Ah, well, I can look if you like.”
“Really? Be careful though.”
“I will. Right.” Micheal heard the man’s footsteps as he crept closer to Micheal’s hiding spot. Micheal’s heart fluttered in his chest. He focused on getting his breath as silent as he could and prayed that this man couldn’t hear his frantic heart. “Hello? Is anyone there? Do you need help? Do you see anything, John? Yes, yes, I know it's dark. A hand? Where? Alright I’ll just-” As Micheal heard this his breath caught. Shit. Shit. Shit. He needed to escape; he needed to get out. He tried to run, but the man heard him and caught his arm with surprising strength with his frail frame. “There you are! Now, would you mind explaining why you were screaming in an alley? This specific alley to be exact. Silent treatment then? Purple, you say? I’ll take him back to the archives then.” Micheal didn’t know what these ‘archives’ were but he didn’t like the sound of it. He tried to speak, then. Convince this man to let him go, first all he managed was an ashy croak, but eventually he found his voice.
“Please, let me go. Where am I?” the man started walking towards the entrance to the alley, dragging Micheal with him. Micheal hated that when he was dragged into the light, all the people crowded around the entrance gawked at him like he was some specimen. He’d always hated that.
“you're in London. No, I’m taking you to get checked out by Jon, wouldn’t want a monster running around, eh? Don’t worry, even if you're an avatar, I’m not allowed to kill you! So, no need to worry. I just want to figure out what you are, that’s all! John, if he’s purple, he’s probably not human.” No matter how Micheal struggled, the man's grip was like iron. So, Micheal let the man drag him towards whatever these ‘archives’ were.
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Jon was sitting at his desk, as always, growing increasingly worried about Arthur. He was usually back by now. As he worried, Jon became aware of a blank spot in his vision, growing closer. That must be Arthur, though it was slightly larger than he remembered... Jon ignored it. Worries satisfied for now, Jon pulled out a statement to have.
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Arthur was very interested to learn what this man was, John had described him as almost looking rotten. He mulled over what avatar this man could be, The End maybe, as he walked him into the archives. The first person to see them was Martin, carrying a mug of tea, he almost dropped it at the sight of them.
“Oh, hi Arthur! Who’s this? I didn’t think you were one to make friends with avatars. Well, I’ll go make him some tea.”
“I’m not sure what he is, actually! Uh, I’m not sure if he can drink tea, Martin.”
“Ah, rotting and all that? I’ll ask, can you, er, drink tea?” The man held Arthur's arm coughed a bit before answering.
“Yeah, I-I think so. Haven’t really tried...” The man trailed off into a series of coughs.
“Alright, just in case you can’t, I’ll get some towels.” Arthur listened to Martin shuffle off into the kitchen. He decided to ask the man some questions.
“What’s your name, then?”
“Uh, Micheal. Micheal Schmidt.” Micheal said the last name with some hesitation, and Arthur suspected he was lying. So, he decided to call him out on it.
“Are you sure? You aren’t lying to me, are you Micheal?” The man flinched a little at his last question. Then he sighed.
“Sorry. I’ve gotten used to using a fake name because of my family, I suppose. It’s Micheal Afton, my last name usually makes people associate me with my father.” John described that Micheal looked pained and slightly angry.
“It’s alright. I get it. I had to use a fake name for a while too.” Arthur heard Martin’s soft footsteps walk into the room, he’d gotten used to recognizing people’s footsteps. “Ah, Martin, time to test if Micheal can drink tea.”
“Why aren’t you like, scared of me? Most people take one look at me and run the other way.” Micheal asked while sipping his tea, it seemed that Micheal’s organs did work after all.
“Well, I’ve met stranger things than a living corpse. I suppose I’m stranger than most people too, I’m sure you’ve seen my eye patch? It’s not because I don’t have an eye, it’s because of this.” Arthur took off his eye patch and looked towards where he thought Micheal was. Micheal made a startled sound but didn’t react too badly. “We’ve all seen weirder things, isn’t that right, Martin?”
“Yes, I suppose we’re all a bit strange! I’ll go get Jon so he can have a chat with you, Micheal.” Arthur listened to Martin’s footsteps recede. He decided he rather liked Micheal, he was quite charming in his slightly rotted, strange way.