Pepper refused to turn around. The paralyzing fear inside of her mixed with extreme confusion. Who had said that? Surely it wasn't who she had really heard. Was it her imagination? Someone pulling a cruel, cruel joke? Wherever it had been, she didn't want to look.
However, her body moved on it's own, not obeying the screams in her mind to stay put or run inside. She turned fully to face where the noise had come from.
The circle of stones had been disturbed, some overturned and out of place. The dirt around them had also been moved. Protruding from the soil was a jagged and misshapen empty pillar of glass. From it's clear exterior, it stared at Pepper with a single cold and empty eye. It's smile, soft and gentle in nature, made goosebumps go down Pepper's spine. Cracks ran along the thing's entire body, and it seemed to sit inside of a black plastic bag inside the dirt. It's gaze was locked on her.
Pepper could hardly breath, this sight, almost as horrible as the last one she'd seen.
"S...S..s.."
The words could hardly escape her mouth. She knew who she was looking at, but it just wasn't possible. This wasn't possible. But that eye was hers. Those eyes she'd looked into so long, and always longed to only look at her. But, her beauty was devoid. This couldn't be her,she just didn't want to believe it.
"What's wrong Pepper, can't you talk? You look sooo scared right now. Loosen up would ya? It's just me!"
It shouted at her. Pepper flinched so fast, she fell to her knees. Her mind was trying so desperately to understand what she was looking at. Of course, this was the only logical conclusion.
"S..Salt...?"
She spat out at last. Salt. Yes, it was Salt. Salty-Salt in all her grotesque glory.
She smiled at her. Pepper shook in fear.
How was she speaking? She was alive, clearly, in some way. There were a few explanations that filled Pepper's mind at this moment.
Oh God, had they buried her alive? The terror of that thought caused Pepper to run up to her broken friend, hands sprawled in the dirt. She had to help her, save her, do something. She could've been suffocating down there, and she never would've known if Salt did not get out of the bag. The smell of salt, soil and plastic enveloped her. Upon closer inspection, the bag was indeed a garbage bag. Salt caught her gaze and answered the thought in her mind.
"I know...They put me in a trash bag! Can you believe OJ!? After everything I've done for him.."
They had discarded Salt like trash. Pepper made sure that she would personally make OJ regret this dearly. How dare he throw her away like she was nothing. He didn't even notice that she was still alive when he threw her away? How could he do such a thing?! It's insanity!!
Then again.
How was she alive..? One could hardly describe the state Salt was in 'alive'. She looked more like the aftermath of an autopsy. No, she couldn't be alive...She was very, very dead. Pepper put a hand to her dear friend's chest.
No heartbeat.
No breath.
No anything.
She slowly moved her eyes up to meet the gaze of Salt. She looked back at her.
"Come on Pepper, don't leave me here. I'm your Salty-Salt, right?"
Pepper wailed, stumbling back into the dirt. She ran as fast as her tired legs could carry her. Running into the safety of the hotel, she slammed the door shut. She double, no, triple checked the lock on the door. Upon the fifth lock check, she slumped down in front of the door. She could finally breathe softly, relaxed right then and there. But the sound of rapid footsteps approaching caused her eyes to shoot open again. Oh god, did she get inside? How? She had checked so many times, it didn't make sense, what she saw outside didn't make any sense. It didn't make any-
"P-pepper..?"
Bomb stuttered. Pepper looked up from the floor at him. He held his arm out to help her stand. He took it as he pulled her up to her feet. She did not meet his gaze as she simply walked upstairs to her room.
Following behind her, both objects navigated rather precariously up the steps, for obvious reasons. Bomb attempted to make small talk with her, as well as coax out why she was out so late.
"S-s-so...wh-why did you go o-out? It's a-already dark o-outside."
He asked. Pepper thought for a moment. Would she just tell him the truth? Then again, she didn't know how to describe what she'd seen. She saw Salt, yes, but she wasn't quite the same. She was dead, and also alive? She didn't know what to say, so she settled for a lie instead.
"..I just wanted to get some fresh air, is all...Thanks for asking."
She gave him a false smile. He gave her one back, one that was genuine. She appreciated it, though it did little to soothe her nerves.
"O-okay..well, I hope y-you have a g-good night's s-s-sleep. A-and if you ever n-need anything, y-you can c-come to me."
While those words did more to calm her, she didn't find the words to thank him, so she just nodded and closed the door to her room.
As soon as she heard him walk away, she scanned the room.
Salt's bed, still neat and made.
Her own bed, a bit messy from their sleep last night.
She wasn't sure which it was that made the tears return to her eyes, although she guessed it was a mix of both. She lay on her bed and dug her face into the covers, forgetting her hands were still covered with dirt.
She couldn't understand anything that was happening, much less able to comprehend what happened earlier today, or what she'd just seen outside. Was that really Salt? Was it a figure of her imagination? An image her mind created to try and put the broken pieces of Salt back together desperately? No, it felt too real. She put a hand on the dent on her head, created from her fall on the stairs. She had felt Salt, and her cold dead gaze.
Was it a zombie? No, no they didn't exist, monsters didn't exist.
Or did they? Back in season 1, several contestants had recalled an encounter in which they found a monster in the desert. A real, real monster. Not one made of smoke and mirror from Mephone, but an actual beast. If that was the case, why couldn't zombies exist? Did that also mean that every folk tale was real, every vampire, ghost and ghoul? All the horrors that went bump in the night, they were all real. She hid under the covers, as if this would protect her from the horrors hidden in the night. She hugged a pillow under the blankets, sobbing quietly into it's side. She pretended that it was Salt, not the thing from outside. Just Salt, with her soft smile and kind eyes. Though, try as she might, she just couldn't seem to tell the two apart.
3 AM. Sleep never came to her. There, sweating profusely underneath 2 blankets and huddled beside a pillow, Pepper couldn't help but feel the awful, incomprehensible feeling that she was being watched. But not just being watched, but being watched by a certain person. She was absolutely sure that Salt, or at least the 'Salt' that had been outside, concealed under the dirt. She was 100% positive that she was looking at her with that cold, dead eye. But that couldn't be possible. Pepper slept on the fourth floor of a six story hotel. There was no way she could be at the window. No way at all.
Try as she might, and she tried so hard, to convince herself it was only her nerves, but it was all in vain. She could feel her eyes burning into her, judging her, mocking her.
Why did you leave me out here? It's so cold, Pepper...And so dirty...You don't want me to sleep in the dirt, do you? Or in the garbage bag...I thought you loved me. You're a liar. And a terrible friend.
How did she know that she loved her? Was it so obvious? Or was she referring to platonic love? Why was this what Pepper was focusing on, instead of trying to figure out how Salt was at the window?
She was a terrible friend. She left her dearest friend out in the dirt and trash to sleep. It was unforgivable. Minute after minute, hour after hour, she stayed under the covers. Not coming out, even as she ran short of breath under the weight of blankets.
When morning finally came, nobody left their rooms. Especially those who lived in the higher parts of the hotel. Nobody wanted to take the stairs.
OJ, however, wasn't frightened to take the steps down. He wanted to show them all how this could be all put behind them, especially by the time Salt came back. It was a one-time thing, that was all. He'd make sure they didn't live in fear of this happening ever again.
He sat on the kitchen table, with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a newspaper in the other. No top stories today, nothing special. How strange, how something so big can happen in one's life, and the rest of the world is blissfully unaware of it all. Then again, they had no reason to know of what happened yesterday. Eventually, this would all blow over, and hell, maybe they'd even have a good laugh about it someday. Though he heavily doubted that last part. In fact, he feared that this could linger over the heads of everyone in the hotel for years to come.
No, no. He wouldn't let that happen. He would show them he was in good spirits, and they'd be inspired to keep moving forward. They could get past this, he knew they could.
Besides, it's just Salt, it's not like anyone's going to miss her.
He accidentally spilled some of his coffee on the newspaper. Dammit, what a clutz. And why was he thinking that again? He felt bad for Salt, and Pepper too. Of course she missed Salt, they were one in the same. She missed her a lot, if not only evident by how she acted just yesterday.
Just as he was in the middle of his thoughts, two hands covered his eyes. He jumped a bit in surprise, until he smiled, realizing the game being played on him.
"Guess who?"
Sing-songed the person behind him. OJ held the hands that covered his face.
"Hm...I'm not sure. Is it...Bomb?"
He joked.
"No...try again!"
"Oh, I've got it now. Pickle?"
"Not quite there. You're so close!"
He spun around, embracing whomever it was behind him.
"I know it's you, Paper!"
Paper happily swung his arms around the orange glass.
"You got it right! Again!"
He beamed.
Paper would often play this game on OJ whenever he was feeling down or stressed. It worked extremely well in making him feel better, Paper was always good at making him feel calm and collected.
Paper flicked the miniature decorative umbrella that stuck out from OJ's glass.
"Ooh! This is cute!"
"You like it? I think this is a great compromise."
What he was referring to was all his previous failed attempts at accessorizing. If there was one thing Salt was right about, it was that he could look extraordinarily plain sometimes. While that conversation segwayed to something of her usual romantic banter, he did take those words to heart. Therefore, he sought to try new things. However all his last tries had failed miserably. First he tried a straw, some normal ones and others more interesting, like a swirly straw. However the only thing that accomplished was the residents of the hotel going around, sticking the straw in their mouths and blowing bubbles in his liquid, or even worse was when Yinyang straight up drank from him. The idea was immediately scrapped after that incident. Another idea, which actually came from Paper, was to put an orange slice on the side of his glass. OJ loved the idea, until he realized just how inconvenient it was. The damn thing wouldn't stop falling off his head, and when it actually did stay in place, it would leak it's citric acid down into his eyes. To top it all off, Yinyang got their hands on the orange slice too and ate it. So that idea was also a bust.
In one last stroke of genius, OJ thought of those decorative mini umbrellas he often saw in beverages. He went and bought one a few days ago, and only today had tried it. So far, it was going well. Even more so that Yinyang was off competing in Inanimate Insanity Invitational, they wouldn't be there to ruin it this time.
OJ flaunted his new look at Paper, now blissfully distracted from his previous worries. He didn't notice when Tissues walked down and into the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of cereal. He was just about to leave, completely unnoticed, until his tell-tale fit of sneezes made him be discovered by OJ and Paper.
"Morning, Tissues!"
Paper greeted him. Tissues wiped his nose with one arm and looked up at them.
"Good moirning. Let me guess, OJ. New look, now that Yinyang isn't heor?"
Tissues teased. OJ rolled his eyes and nodded, admitting the truth of the matter. Paper laughed jovially.
"Oh, oi forgot."
Tissues said, as if remembering something. He walked to the counter, and jumped up to set his cereal on the top, struggling to do so since he was so short. He coughed twice, then proceeded back to the pantry. He pulled out a banana and shrugged.
"Good enoigh."
Paper and OJ gave each other confused looks.
"What are you doing?"
OJ asked him. Tissues answered casually.
"Getting breakfast for Trouphy. He doesn't want to come douwn, or get out of bed."
OJ cringed, suddenly being reminded of yesterday, more specifically how he had tried to coax Trophy into helping them dispose of Salt's body. He had only realized later in the day how cruel that was of him, especially since he'd had a front row seat to the carnage. It wasn't in OJ's place to try and force him to do anything. He'd have to go and apologize to him now, which brought back his anxieties from the morning. Paper frowned as he noticed the look on his face.
Tissues went to walk back upstairs, but he accidentally sneezed into his bowl of cereal, coating the top of it with green.
"Oh, fow fucks saike.."
He cursed under his breath.
"Let me make you another one!"
Paper offered. Tisses smiled and nodded, as Paper went to help him. OJ was left alone again, if only for a moment, with his thoughts. Why was he getting so stressed over this? He told himself that he wouldn't. It was his job to keep his cool. Though, hiding his emotions wasn't healthy either. He mentally reminded himself to talk to Paper later about it, he knew Paper would understand, he always did.
He almost jumped when he looked up, not expecting to see someone standing in front of him, on the other side of the counter. He had to look up to meet her eyes.
"Good morning, Mic! You kinda startled me there..hah."
Microphone looked down at him with a smile.
"Good morning, OJ! Did you..manage to sleep last night?"
She asked, a bit somberly. OJ looked back, making sure Paper wasn't looking. He was too busy pouring Tissues a new bowl of cereal. OJ looked back to Mic.
"Barely..And you?"
Mic shrugged.
"About the same...Soap didn't come back to our room until about 4 AM...She was in Tissue's room comforting..you know who."
OJ nodded in understanding.
"I expected that from her. Im...sorry this all happened. Nobody had to see that. It never even should have happened."
"But OJ, you know it wasn't your fault. Nobody could've seen this coming, so don't blame yourself, okay?"
OJ turned around to see Paper putting a hand on his shoulder. He felt soft inside and couldn't help but smile.
Tissues walked back upstairs, albeit with caution, with breakfast. He got to the top of the stairs, and rounded the corner to his room. He closed the door behind him as he looked at the bed on the left side of the room. Sure enough, he could still make out the shape of Trophy, curled into a ball. Tissues could tell he was awake, just not wanting to get out of bed.
He tapped Trophy in the shoulder, yet he gave no response. Another tap, nothing.
"Trophy. Trophy? I broight breakfast fow you. Come on."
Trophy rolled over in bed to look at him. Tissues held out the food he'd brought up, offering it to him. Trophy went to reach for the banana, but Tissues shook his head.
"No, I got yew this. This one's mine."
Trophy looked slightly surprised. He hadn't expected Tissues to go out of his way to actually make him breakfast, even if it was just cereal. After all the times he'd lost his temper at him, why was he being so nice?
Oh, he pitied him. That was it. Because he'd broken down yesterday into sobbing fits over...it. He could distinctly remember through his haze of tears that some people were staring at him, including Tissues. He couldn't really read his face, though, unsure what he was really thinking.
He took the bowl of cereal and sat up in bed. He looked at it for a minute, then to the tissue box.
"There's no spoon."
"...Fuck, youw're right. Stupid Paper.."
Trophy almost chuckled, until he thought about those words. So, was it Paper who made breakfast for him, not Tissues. That did make more sense than Tissues making it.
"So Paper sent you back up to bring me food..?"
"Well, no. I made it forst, but oi sneezed on it, so Paper mawde me another one."
"...Right. Okay. Thanks I guess."
Tissues shrugged and turned to go outside, eating his banana. Trophy could only stare down into the bowl in his hands. He was hungry, no doubt about it. But at the same time, his appetite was not there.
He still felt sick to his stomach.