Welcome To Trench [twenty one pilots]

1 . Morph

Clancy woke up in a cold sweat, body shaking under his covers. The kind of state you'd be in after a terrible nightmare.

But he didn't had a nightmare. Not that he could remember. Whatever his brain made up for him that night was slipping away fast and he completely had forgotten when he opened his eyes. He had no clue as to what nightmare could be so terrifying to be waking up shaking and in cold sweat. It had never happened before. His shaking body slowly eased as he sat up, trying to remember the dream but to no avail.

He looked around his small bedroom, everything seemed in place.

Clancy got up. He stretched his arms above his head to feel his they were soar. It hurt him to lift them so high. He blamed it on the task he was given everyday. The last one was mainly lifting heavy stuff, dragging boxes around Dema with some other people. They didn't know what was in the boxes, but Clancy couldn't care less.

He walked over to his window, one of the two in his apartment, and pulled open the curtains. Clancy was greeted with the grey clouds that always seemed to hang over Dema, and a Watcher. The pitch-black, cloaked figure was standing outside the apartment block a few feet away from the entrance. Clancy couldn't see their face, but he had a feeling that the Watcher was staring directly at his apartment, directly at his window, directly at him.

The Watchers were fine, that was Clancy's opinion at least. People around him were afraid of the figures who seemed to follow you but didn't, who seemed to know everything about you but couldn't possibly know everything. They were creepy, some called them stalkers, but Clancy thought of them as alright. They weren't harming anyone, they were just making sure everything in Dema was okay, they were just keeping an eye out for their citizens.

Clancy thought the Bishops were much worse, but not a lot of people shared that opinion. In fact, he didn't know anyone who thought the same as him. The Bishops were the great leaders, the people fighting for Dema, to keep Dema alive and well. It sounded like bullshit, especially considering the things they did to people.

Nico was the Bishop of his district and Clancy was the only one afraid of him, frightened one could say. Again, a few people probably shared his opinion but he often felt as he was the only one truly scared of him. People who broke the rules only in the slightest bit were hauled of to Nico. When they came back, they were visibly harmed or visibly smeared. The smearing was with much worse cases, and it was the most awful thing Clancy had ever seen happen to people. The few occasions where people got smeared in public, it was horrible. Every last bit of hope, faith, and what-not were drained from the person and all that was left was a shell of what that person once was.

That was the worst thing Clancy could imagine happening to him. Even death seemed more reasonable.

Clancy moved away from the window, walking over to his closet to get some fresh clothes. It was always the same dull grey colour, but always a different outfit depending on how you were supposed to spend your day. Sweatpants were for a day off, casual wear was for some minor tasks and work clothes were for, well, working. Clancy could already guess his set of clothes for the day, Wednesdays were always working days for him, from the early morning to late in the night, all the tough jobs seemed to go to Clancy to finish. But when he opened the closet, he was greeted with a simple T-shirt and sweatpants. He turned his head around, looking at the calendar on his wall. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday were crossed off but he didn't remember doing it himself. Was it really already Sunday? He grabbed his clothes and went to his bathroom, checking the calendar closely when passing. The crosses over the four days were obviously there, but somehow they didn't look like the way Clancy crossed out the days. The lines were shaky, just a bit, the colour of the crosses was slightly off even though they were all black. He tried to remember crossing the days out himself, but he couldn't. He shrugged, he was probably overthinking it. Maybe the reason why he had woken up in cold sweat was because he had been sick the past few days, a fever so high he couldn't even remember what had happened those days. He tried to convince himself that it was reasonable, reasonable enough for now. He got dressed, brushed his teeth, and went out. He didn't had a task that day, so he didn't really have a reason to go outside, but Clancy enjoyed each morning with a walk around his district. Stretching his legs, getting some nice fresh air, it always helped him wake up completely.