Puppet on Strings {|} a DHMIS reader-insert

{|} The Trees Have Eyes, Too - Chapter 3 {|}

"... Gumi." Harry repeats, still deadpan. "Uhuh. Funny story, but the little shit was actually a teacher of mine." Robin looks as if he's about to scold me, but thinks better of it. "Yeah-! I thought I knew that little... bastard from somewhere." Larry  pipes up, the dreams teacher slapping a gloved hand against his 'face'. "Seriously, who wouldn't recognize an annoying voice like that..." I roll my eyes.

"You guys alright? I've been through her lesson before, she's not too aware people are sensitive to gore." I try to joke, but this doesn't turn out well. Harry takes a long, deep breath. "We're fine. I want to know what's going on. How did you know what you did." Larry opens his mouth, and I shush him. "This is gonna take a bit of expl-" A loud crash is heard outside. "aAAAAAAA- God- So soon?" I peek out the nearest window to see the telephone booth. "Damn it. Looks like you guys are getting the inside and not an explanation. Manny, stay here. You're too young for this entire situation." He looks around cautiously. "If you're worrying, she's only allowed to show up on Sundays. Leeeeet's go." I grab Larry and rush outside, Harry and Robin following. I open the booth's door, and shove myself inside. "There's a little bit of a void below the floor of this thing, so hold on to each other, or else you're gonna get lost." As the pair enters, the door shuts.

The booth begins to shake. "Wait, what--" Robin shrieks and grabs Harry's arm, who grabs my wrist. "Worst..." I have a grin on my face, I can tell. "... Macguffin..." The floor disappears, and we all fall. "EEEEVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!"

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I grunt as I feel a heavy weight fall on top of me. I open my eyes to see I'm back in my dorm, but it seems different. None of Adam's stuff is there, and all my DHMIS crafts are gone. I got them out earlier, so I would know. I feel someone move on top of me, and I look to see Harry practically has me pinned to the ground. "Oh, hi." I mumble, and feel someone pull me away from behind. "And Larry, hello." I look up at him. He waves with his free hand. Robin, who I notice was also under Harry, sits up on his knees as Harry stands. "Where are we?" He squawks. "Uhhh. My dorm room. Somethin', uh, something's different, though." 

Harry hums, looking around. "You were right. It is greyer. But it's still like Feltfield." I blink. "... Oh, shit, something's wrong. It doesn't normally seem so colorful. Fuck. Shit. Uh." I look around, and then up. "OH, FUCK." I jump up, a foot hitting my head. "Fuck, why is-" Manny was there, hanging from the ceiling fan by the back of his shirt. Various other objects were placed around the room, like a familiar wall clock and sketchbook, an old computer. "Uh, fuck." I curse. "You broke somethin', huh?" Larry snickers. "Uhm, yES, I fucking BrokE sOmethiNg, DreAMs mAN." I half-scream, half-normally say. Robin sets a wing on my shoulder. "Calm down. I don't quite understand what's happening, but... it'll be alright, Y/N." Harry nods, arms crossed and still seeming unfazed. 

"Okay. Oooookay." I take a deep breath. Harry grabs Manny from the ceiling fan, holding him close. I pace around the room, trying not to scream. "So- I don't know where to start. I have to explain but it's gonna be complete... nonsense!" I yell. "Hey, hun, you talked about the whole thing to me while you were drunk. I understood." The lamp nudges me. "Calm down, bud. Drink a ton or something, that'll help." Robin glares at the dreams teacher. "It will not." He scoffs. Harry shrugs. "It might." Larry gives the spaghetti monster a thumbs up. "Definitely. Love this guy. 10 stars on Yelp." I take a breath. "Okay, so, then let's just go to the bar!"

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And so we did. Except for Robin, who stayed in my dorm to take care of Manny. I walked down the street, chatting with Larry. When we arrive at the bar, it's been replaced. "The fuck..." I mumble, looking at the sign. "'Steve's Bar and Grill', huh?" I sigh. "Good enough." Harry casts me a curious look. "Oh, uh, this used to be the Arms' End Bar. But I guess I really did break something." I sigh, stepping inside. It's a nice, 90s-aesthetic-restaurant-based establishment, but definitely a bar. I smell food being cooked and hear drunken buddies chattering. "Well, this is cool, alright." Larry looks around curiously, nobody seeming to much mind him or Harry. "Yeah. I guess." The spaghetti monster mumbles. 

"Come on, we came here for drinks." I walk toward the bar. The bartender was a young lady, maybe about 14, with green hair and pale, almost metallic skin. Her eyes were bright, emerald green to match her hair, and she was wearing a work uniform that matched the colors of the restaurant. 

((A/N: I hate to include images, and A/Ns for that matter, but I can't find a way to describe the outfit. The dress is longer, BTW. She's literally a child.))

She looked up and smiled. "Hi! Welcome! My name's Candice. What can I get'cha?" Candice grabs a notepad and pen from her dress pocket. "Well-" "Strongest alcohol you got, gimme a pint of it. Please thanks." Larry interrupts, sliding up behind me. The lamp leans against my leg like it's a wall. I cross my arms and sigh. "Chicken tenders and fries for me, with a Coke." Harry glares at Larry before looking back up at Candice. "Just some water, thanks." She stares, dumbfounded, at Larry for a moment, and then at Harry. "... Alright, your order will be right up. Take a seat, please, it's pretty much happy hour so I think that means everything is half price. Ten dollars and ninety-nine cents." I search my satchel for the money and then set it on the counter, before dragging Larry over to a booth.

"Are you sure it was them, sweetheart?" Steve looked over his shoulder from cooking, a worried expression on his face. "Yeah, pa! It sure looked like 'em!" Candice exclaimed, getting the drinks up. "I would recognize Larry anywhere." The older man sighs, running a plastic-gloved hand through his brown hair. "He might recognize the names, if that drunken fool even remembers us." Felix, Steve's husband, walked into the kitchen, carrying extra frozen foods. "I'll sure hope, Fel." Steve sighs. "Candice, bring out the gal's order, will you?" He slides her the plate. "Yup." She grabs the food and walks out.

Larry, as it turns out, can't make a joke to save his life. But he's good at being unintentionally funny. I laugh as he recounts a story about a student he had in the past, who beat him the fuck up after he took his stuffed bear. "The kid was only, like, seven! I don't know what kinda fuckin' drugs he was on!" The dreams teacher sighs, leaning back in his seat. I wipe a tear away from my eye. "Kinda reminds me of one of the teachers I had to deal with." I sigh. The two perk up (well, Harry not so much, he just turned toward me again) at the mention of my past teachers. "His name is Marvin. He was a music teacher, and, surprisingly, he didn't teach in song. This guy did legit, sit-down, shut-up-listen-to-me-rant lessons. The other two I was with freaked the fuck out the second things got wrong. It was weird, since I was the first one to drop out and I barely noticed anything."

I look up to see Candice approaching the table with my food and the drinks. "Oh, hey, Can is here." Larry flinches at the name... word... 'can'. Weird. She walks up to the table and sets the tray down. "Hiya. Here's the food 'n stuff!" Candice smiles. "Thanks." Harry and I say in unison. Larry says absolutely nothing as he's already chugging his drink. Candice winks at me and strolls off. I grab my chicken tendies and dig in.