𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 ༄

two

The shed door always stayed shut.

That was the one rule of his house, well, Phil's house. Technoblade had just begun to call it his house, having lived here for close to a year. Phil told him the story of how they found each other often, reminiscing. Techno had been no older than seven, ratty clothes and a red blanket to his name. Phil had never fostered before, but he took one look at the boy with bright pink hair and eery red eyes and took him home.

That was that. It took ages for Techno to warm up to the kindly man, but they grew closer in the months that passed. Techno took to tottering after Phil on their daily walks through the mystic woods outside their house. The house itself was a simple cabin, but it was the first home Techno had ever had, and he treasured its walls with all his heart. The first few weeks had been rough, with Techno opting to scratch and break items in the house instead of going anywhere near Phil. There is still a small gauge in the wooden planks where he stabbed a kitchen knife after a particularly bad fight.

The best part about it was that Phil was like him. He didn't make fun of Techno for his mismatched legs or sharp canine teeth; merely laughed heartily and revealed his own steel wings to show. Techno had been born with one donkey leg and one brass leg that both made a ruckus on the wooden floors. He used to despise his legs, and the way that one was slightly taller than the other making him hobble around. But Phil taught him that the best fighters had huge weaknesses, and ever since then Techno had come to embrace his own. Well, almost all of his own. Being... whatever he was, he had certain cravings. Cravings of blood. Voices whispered in his ears travelling to the heart of his brain, getting his blood pumping and heart racing. At ten years old he was reading books about the anatomy of wildlife, finding their weakest points and what had the largest capacity for blood. He would talk for hours about his knowledge over potatoes at the dinner table with Phil, who sat unfazed. It was those same cravings, those echoes in his head that had forced him outside.

Techno knew every creak and crack in the house. He knew which window was stuck, and what steps to avoid when sneaking out. Which happened to be what he was doing now. Techno pushed his hair out of his eyes to see better in the pitch black. It was an ungodly hour of time at night, a witching hour, like from one of the books he read. But Techno was braving the outside anyways. He carefully slid his socks down the stairs, skipping the third and second to last step. He knew his feet would freeze outside but it was worth the risk of being caught. Techno rounded the corner, sliding on the cold wood floor until he reached the back door. He winced as it creaked open, letting a cold gust of wind into the house. With a final wary look behind him, Techno bounded into the backyard. The hairs raised on his arms as he wrapped his red cloak tighter around him. This was the best time of day, he thought, where the sky was lightening but the world was quiet. It let Techno think, clear his mind in the frigid air. Even at ten years old, his mind was plagued with noise and whispers telling him terrible things. He did his best not to listen, but sometimes... sometimes he couldn't help it, hence the knife in the wall.

Techno took a deep breath, the icy ground seeping into his sock feet. He giggled, feeling happy for the first time all day. Winter had always been Techno's favorite season, ever since he was really young. It brought him an odd sense of comfort. Techno twirled his cape in the air, red flashing on white. Techno stumbled, laughing gleefully, his legs crashing him into the fluffy snow. At this point, he didn't care if old man Phil was woken up by the noises, he was having too much fun.

The air stilled, and Techno with it. He stiffened, wary of the sudden silence. Techno was on edge, unaware of what was causing his spike in heart rate. The backyard was completely silent and void of movement, only showing the shack at the edge of the woods and the looming trees beyond it. Techno zeroed in on the shack. It seemed ordinary, a makeshift room of oak logs and planks. He didn't know what Phil used it for, after all, that had always been the one rule of the house: The shed door stays shut. But something, a sense of mixed curiosity and fear compelled Techno forwards. He hobbled closer to the shed, its four walls growing more eerie as he got closer. He peered into one of the dusty windows, but the moon wasn't bright enough to illuminate the room. Techno straightened his shoulders, reassuring himself that it would be fine, that Phil wouldn't be mad if he looked inside. Just one look couldn't hurt.