____
You've made it.
Made it where?
You'll see, my baby.
____
Where The Hornets Nest
The Story You Lived
August 18th, 2023
...
8 : 15 am
...
// YOUR POV //
_______________
My fingers run against the blue fabric of one of Brian's shirts, my opposite hand pinches a wooden clip to hold the cloth onto the clothes line.
A cool, yet refreshing gust of air breathes through my h/c hair.
The lake is calm below, just like Kate's sleeping form that sits against the old willow.
Tim sits on the back porch, smoking his cigarette and morning coffee, pretending to read his book on Mark Twain when it's obvious his eyes are more interested in reading me.
After the incident, three years ago now, we moved back upnorth to the second cabin of my "recruitment". Although unpleasant memories hang here around each corner, every ripple in the lake below, it's a calm summer house that I can learn to love.
Brian and I have began practice with shooting rifles, any firearms for that matter. I told him in the beginning I know how to kill, protect myself with the high technology of a weapon used through the decades.
But he doesn't listen (I think he just wants an exscuse to have his own time with me, and be a smart ass).
Besides from that, Toby has dragged me (into / deeper into) painting, which has became a late night ritual for the two of us.
Kate leads me onto a new path of the forest every weekend, at the end always is a loving present.
Tim has grown closer, softer. Our late night talks no longer turn into arguments, our trade of alcohol has been cut off. At the mention of that, I'm proud to say that I've been a year sober.
Sometimes, I call Mom.
"Toby, Pass me the pancake mix." Brian calls to the younger man inside, the two busy in the kitchen with making breakfast.
"What if the pancake mix was cocaine." I can already see Tobies goofy grin, making Brian give out an irrated sigh.
"Just shut up and give it to me, damnit." A soft smile blooms on my face as I bend down to grab the last of the laundry.
Shirt after shorts, sweater after hoodie, I wipe the sweat off of my forehead with the back of my head with a sense of fulfillment from simply doing the clothes.
Going through depressive episodes, the simple things will make you feel needed.
Turning, I sigh and walk up to the porch steps to sit beside Tim. He stares off in the distance, taking in a long drag of his cigarette.
I sit down a step above Tim, to get a sense of solitude while staying in the same space as him.
My knees ache, but I don't mind. I watch Tim put out his cigarette, glancing up at me with a small smile. I've quit smoking, well, Kinda. Whenever stress gets to over whelming in my head, I'll go on a "walk" with Toby. Sometimes Kate even tags along.
"What time did Kate get back from her solo?" I question, my eyes steadying on Kate's sleeping body that sits against the willow tree.
Kate has been gone for about three days on a solo mission as an "observer" for him down in Wisconsin.
"Got back around Six this morning, I was sitting out here 'n watched her come through the pines and decide to collapse under the willow." Tim shrugs before standing up, stretching in the process.
"Breakfast's ready!" Tobies shout makes Kate quickly stand up and step into view from the willow trees branches.
Tim laughs, earning the bird from Kate.
We all walk inside, it feels good to be in the shade. Entering the kitchen, theres already plates with breakfast sitting at the kitchen table, ready to be eaten.
"How was the mission, Kate?" Brian's finally started calling Kate by her preferred name, not "Katelyn". She finally went bat shit crazy on Brian one night and ever since then Brian's been good at calling Kate by her name.
I personally never knew why the woman didn't like it when her full name was said to her face, or spoken of at all. But it turns out, her close family used to call her "Katelyn" instead of "Kate".
No one called her Kate before him. So whenever she heard the seven letter name called out specifically to her, it was like hearing the ghost of a dead relative whisper a heart breaking message in your ear.
Anyways.
I sit beside Brian at the wooden kitchen table, picking up my utensil to eat my breakfast. The others quietly stuff their mouths, hungry. As I let my breakfast melt on to my tongue, the urge to throw up is absent.
When sitting at the kitchen table, I no longer break down crying at thoughts of the past, sit spaced out or even go the whole time without speaking.
The morning sun shines in through the kitchen window and onto Tobies face, displaying his freckles. I think it's beautiful, how such a normalized object can make one glow so unique.
"I'll take the truck into town today to get groceries and some tools for the broken shower." Kate speaks up, setting down a leftover piece of the crust to her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Brian hums, nodding in acknowledgement.
Instead of the two being on separate "teams", they've seemed to accept eachother. Brian's loud, stern yet playful aurora was hard to connect with Kate's reckless, silent energy, but yet here we are without the two making snide remarks towards eachother.
"Can you buy me tea? I'm running out." The curley haired brunette enters the conversation. Toby drops his fork onto his plate, littered with pancake crumbs. His brown eyes connect with Kates.
Something I've noticed in Tobies look, is that his rudeness, his longing to see hurt in others eyes, has died.
"Sure, what kind?" I take in a deep breath, setting down the last of my breakfast back down onto my plate. Pushing myself up, I look down to see Brian spacing out on the window.
I grasp the side of his head and lean down, to lay a delicate kiss on his temple before curving around the table on my way towards the kitchen sink to wash my plate.
My mind drowns myself out of the conversation. I wash the dawn dishsoap thrive into soap suds on my glass plate, my fingers grow soft.
At my side, Tim comes up with three plates. His flannel is rolled up to his elbows, letting his scars show. I think it's pleasant, to have him be comfortable around me without feeling the need to hide his vulnerable side
Of him.
"Brian and the kid will be working in the garden today, and I'll be helping Kate with the shower." Tim mutters, reaching for the dawn dishsoap to clean what I assume his, Brian and Tobies plates.
"What will I be doing?" I ask quietly, coming out of thought.
"I don't know, you come up with that." I only nod, silently given the choice to do what I want today. The cabin is quiet, open, sunny, home.
Even though I'll be stuck to immortality until the day he decides I'm not worthy, I feel old, mature. My body doesn't age, but each day I awake by Brian's or Kate's side, I find my mentality ageing rapidly.
Being a murderer, thief, bad person, I feel like a soft and innocent person left alone with my only family to live happy.
One day, I won't have to worry about it, today.
I space out on the plate in my hands, soap suds dry my fingers. I am to lost in thought to care about the uncomfortable feeling. Time freezes, but the man besides me reality is still in motion.
"You look good today, Y/n." Tim nods, glancing over at me.
My heart pounds locked in my ribcage.
Tim's hand slowly grasps mine, damp with dawn dish soap and water. I let him grab me, instead of shaking him away.
"I'm proud of you, kid." He whispers, although I don't know where this sudden praise has come from, but I except it.
And I smile.
...
12 : 01 pm
...
Whenever it was decently warm out, Toby and I would undress to our under clothes and sprint down to the lake just below the hill of the cabin.
Of course, the temperature never bothered Toby but it sure as hell did me.
"I'll get there first!" I shout out, my legs taking speed down the hill as my joyous eyes look over the clear lake.
"NOT IF I BEAT YOU!" Toby screeches, zooming past me, his swimming trunks making awkward noises. I slow down, watching Toby splash into the water.
The late of summer day's sweat rolls down my face, eager to be washed off by the same water that drowned me.
"Come on bitch!" Toby grins, gliding onto his back.
"Hold on asshole!" I let out a playful growl as my feet become wet with the water. The further I walk out, the more the memory of water filling up into my lungs eat at me.
Toby floats on his back, his sun burned chest displaying itself to even more sun.
The willows on land wave at us, giving us a farewell to our own kind of solitude.
"I have trouble swimming in here, since I fuckin drowned in here last winter." I mutter, letting the tips of my fingers drag along the water.
Toby sinks under the water, to get his hair wet. Resurfacing, his bandage on his gash has fallen off. I don't wince, like others might in public, instead I admire him.
"Go under water, it'll warm you up." Toby comes closer, wiping off the dripping water from his unshaven face.
"Says the guy that can't feel shit." I splash at him before diving under water. The liquid takes me as a hug, the delicate sand brushes against my hands, the warm waters whisper distorted compliments into my ears.
I let myself sink down a reasonable depth, I open my eyes.
You can't die. You will not drown. You cannot drown; I repeat to myself, feeling my puffed up cheeks with oxygen go numb.
Under the water, the curly haired brunette comes to join me with wide eyes.
Toby gently sits Infront of me, his knees up to his chest. His hair floats around his facial features alike to mine, the two of us sit in quiet.
I watch the man point to his chest, then make a lazy heart, and lastly point to me;
I love you.
My lips force a grin while I float forward as my hands search for Tobies face. Once they've found the soft of his jaw, he lets my lips find his.
Under the water, the fish mind their own business. The dancing underwater plants continue their dance, not judging.
Even as friends, we touch (not below the belt) to simply show our affection.
We pull away, can't helping but to laugh. Air bubbles escape us, floating up to the surface just like us seconds later.
"You dah-dork!" Toby laughs, his hands grasping my shoulders to keep himself stable. I laugh aswell, the cold breeze making friends with my wet skin becomes unfriendly.
"Says you." I grin, suddenly being pushed backwards.
Before I become one with the water, I take in one, large gasp of air. A thud punctures my ears, as my back comes in touch with brittle beads of sand underneath my body that floats down in the water.
Instead of fighting my way back up to the surface, I let myself lay wide eyed under the gentle waters.
Tobies shadow shines just besides me, as if he's laying here with me.
I saw Dad, when I drowned. I saw his rotting corpse reach out to me, somewhere in the depths of this lake.
Did they dispose of him in here?
Is he laying just beyond on the sand? Or was it just one of my hallucinations, a hallucination to fill the urge to see Dad again before I died?
It's weird, isn't it? To say that you've died before?
A hand grasps mine, and forces me back up to the surface.
"You were down there for five minutes, you want to drown again?" Toby raises his eyebrow, not knowing the hurt his words have on me.
My lower lips trembles, Ofcourse I don't want to die again, why would you say that?
But instead, I say; "Let's go up to the house, maybe Kate has a new idea for painting."
Toby nods, keeping grip on my hand to lead me out the water.
Bye dad; I think.
But I can't say goodbye, because dad's dead.
And it's better that way.
...
7 : 54 pm
...
Pictures always filled the moments, they were full on memories that told visual stories. Thats why Toby took so many.
"Remember this one?" Toby swipes right on his cracked android, showing silly pictures he's taken over the years. My squinted eyes focus on the blurry screen, and my eyes light up at what I see.
A crooked smile grows on my lips as I fall backwards and into the safety of the lawn chair.
"You took a picture of it?!" I give out a wheeze of laughter, my dry throat giving me a hard time on breathing.
"Fuck yeah I did! We couldn't just leave the Vic's house without taking a picture of Kermit The Frog hanging in their living room!" Toby passes me the joint as he swipes to another picture on his phone.
My stretched grin dies down to a warm smile. My heart flutters at the goofy picture of Brian, must've been taken in the mud room in the front of the cabin.
"This was before me 'n Brian went down to Illinois to get one of his collector items that was on sale." Toby chuckles. I bring the joint to my lips and inhale, thinking of what Brian would've got in fuckin Illinois.
"Don't tell him, but I only went down to get a new product from my plug." The man whispers, learning in.
"O-oh trust me, I won't tell." I cough, handing back the joint to Toby.
"The fuck is that? South Park, really dude?" I raise my eyebrows at Toby.
"What? I only screen shotted it because of Ike's goofy ass business suit." Toby is quick to swipe onto a different image, embarrassed for having Kyle's little brother from South Park on his fucked up phone.
We both break out laughing at Tobies phone, so loud, that we get a; "Shut the fuck up!" From Kate.
That's, when you know you're having fun.
"God, damn." I wipe tears out of my eyes as I hold my stomach, feeling as if I just gained a six pack.
"Okay, okay, I'll puh-put my phone away now so you don't have to see weird shit." Toby calms down, straightening his posture to slide his phone into the front pocket of his camo hoodie.
I lean back in my chair, and let my eyes rest on the lake just below the hill and the willow tree high and mighty showing off her lushes curls.
My hand slowly snakes over to my left arm, to itch the bee sting that beats freshly just below my elbow. Just before Toby and I went swimming earlier this afternoon, I was cleaning around the house and was unfortunate to find a wasps nest.
Fucking pests.
"I got stung earlier today, have you seen any hornets nests around the house so I know where not to stick my hands at?" I glance over at Toby, who sits slumped in his chair, spaced out on his muddy boots.
He doesn't say anything.
I lean forward, and look over his face to sense any stress. But nothing looks to be wrong with him, maybe he's just tired.
"Where do your hornets nest?" Toby's glazed eyes meet with mine and search them as he leans forward, searching for any twitch in my face as I did for him just a moment ago.
I blink dumbly, before letting a warm smile spread on my lips.
"Oh shut up 'n kiss me already, you weirdo." I whisper a giggle and lean forward aswell, to wrap my hand in Toby's curley hair to pull him to my lips.
Me and the hatchet boy make out on the back porch, high, watching night take over.
The Hooded and Masked men sit at the kitchen table, having their nightly glasses of rum while admiring our calm life.
"The boys happy, now." The brunette gestures to us on the porch, easily in sight through the open screen door.
"I think we're all happy, now." Brian whispers, setting down his glass, finally not feeling jealousy eat at him at the sight of me loving others.
"Yeah." Tim looks down, a soft look steady on his face.
The chaser sits cooped up in the room we shared secretly, writing away a book at her desk. Her quiet mind buzzes with hornets, retelling our adventures. "Finally." She whispers, looking down on the final page.
Her soft and delicate hands, yet bruised, gently close the book with a quiet sigh.
Kate's pointer finger runs over the bold title, even though in the dark room, she sees it perfectly with her bright eyes.
The first, and last book we would ever read together.
After some time, Missions turned to daily things.
Arguments were settled in silence, sometimes into even more arguments.
Age never wrinkled our flesh, but it sure as hell killed us mentally and internally.
Our story went on, surprise was always known.
I thought I was used to change, but change is exactly what it's called.
You never get used to it.
"Y/n," His bloody hands hold me close to his bleeding chest. Tears stuck on my skin, I sob for his ending breaths.
The dirt of the forest floor mixes in with his insides, and with my spit.
My hands hold him sitting up, his back supported by my lap. My forehead to his, my tears land on his cheeks.
I try my best not to think of our positions switched, his eyes boring into mine with fear of my death.
"Y-you're a Vacire, right?" Brian suddenly whispers, pushing my face away from his. Brown eyes lock on mine, and his sudden question makes me think.
At the simple name, my hunger resides deep in the pits of my stomach and mind.
About four months before this incident, I remember finding a book named: Vampires, Canines, Vacire; The Mix of Two. On the doorstep to the back porch one morning. Obviously I didn't tell the others, because of the letter on the package...
"You may remember me as the eyeless man, my name never sticks due to my soul being dead. An empty body never sticks with an alive energy.
I feel the need to clear up some things;
The reason why Jeff took such an interest in you was because he knew your father, your father was a father figure to him. And when he found out about you, he felt like he had to be a father figure to you because of your father's passing.
But also because of your being. In the woods, about two years ago a demonic being took the name of Sylvester Ladrin. But me, and the many other beings I work beside know him as Zalgo. Now, this is where you come in.
When you were in the, well, his woods he smelt that he had branded you and took that as a chance to try to brand you for himself. Zalgo and him go way back, used to be work partners in the late 1800's. Anyway, the two had been trying to create a breed that would master the perfect proxy, or would be the perfect killers (At the time, even now, the two were fairly delusional and were still in their human lives. So they were basically going off of madness).
Cutting it short, shorter than long I suppose.
Your invected, been invected for a long time. Your basically the description of a vampire, and your canines are sharp like a dog. But of course, Vampires arn't real and the powers of a sheer pet arn't real either (if you thought the canine part had to do with some Twilight shit).
To rub it in you face even more, your canines are grown in larger and sharper and you now (have had) have a cannibalistic gene imprinted on your mind.
I thought the least I could do for you would be to let you know what you are, since you took the part in injuring the smiling killer."
He didn't sign the letter, nor gave any farewells.
The book was useful, yet dreadful.
And the knowledge of what I am makes me wish to be no more.
"I...yes, I am." My eyes furrow on his messy face, my hands wrapping tighter around his scarred wrists.
The hunger making me sick yet thrilled to smell open blood lust.
I cry harder, the sick emotions an thoughts that come to my head make me riddled with guilt. And loss.
"What's funny, i-is I was doing research...I stole some of his files, and I-I, read that Vacires eat-!" He jerks, another flesh clot of blood pumps out of his stomach wound and onto my lose tank top.
My eyes admire down. Two bodies dirty in blood, mud and sweat. A golden bullet in one, and an empty stomach in the other.
Pines
shield
them
from
the
rain,
tears
reveal
them
to
pain.
"Eat they're mates, if the o-other one is dying." A dry laugh escapes Brian's mouth. And even with his teeth stained with blood, his crooked grin manages to fit it's normal look.
My tears mix with the saliva that runs over my lips and chin. My hands rub his hairy arms, my teeth wish to hover over open flesh.
The smell is warm.
Yet I force myself to say;
"No, Bunny," I whisper, taken in shock.
"You're not dying." I say.
"You can't."
"Your a proxy."
But we both know that means nothing.
His eyes dim a bit, and his smile melts.
"Eat me, Y/n, and love me." I feel his rough hand slip behind my pounding head, and use the rest of his strength to urge my face to his mangled chest.
To his bleeding, open wound.
My lips part, to hover against his bloody flesh. My tongue curved up and took in his blood like thick, warm caramel. My taste buds took in the taste I've held in for so many years. My tears leaked, and so did the soul of a proxy.
From Brian Thomas.
Former Marine.
College student studying to become an
actor, but would later turn towards the
wanting to become a doctor.
Then, to Hoodie.
A mans life stolen by madness.
A man that stole a life due to madness.
My boyfriend, maybe more.
And lastly, to dead proxy.
My jaw unlocked, and my teeth sunk.
His hand in my hair clenched, and through the last minutes, softened.
To nothing.
I remember walking home that day, drenched with his blood running dry down my chin and onto my chest.
I remember grasping the door handle to the house, and taking my first steps inside to be greeted by the eyes of my fellow proxies.
"Where's Brian?" Tim asks, taking his eyes away from the Television for a moment to greet my prescence.
And, I remember how much that question pained me to even read the lips of.
And how much I wanted to run to the gun case, load my Brian's gun and pretend he held the pistol to my head, and press down on the trigger.
But I didn't.
Instead I walked in, didn't care to slip my muddy boots off. Sat beside Kate on the couch, and held my knees with my palms.
All eyes on me, I forced myself to look forward and try to hold in the screams I let out in the woods just beyond his mauled body.
"I should've just killed that family." I state, saying it to him.
"What?" Toby yawns, fully awake at someone's voice being spoken.
"I should've," A tear slips.
"Just killed that stupid fucking family." I whisper, letting my face fall into my hands.
They stared, and pretended that they understood.
Five months later Tim found Brian's rotting corpse beside the stream. He attempted to smother me in my sleep later that night when he got home while in a drunken daze.
I told him that Brian would be dead either way.
That He made it clear one of us had to go, and played it like fucking russian roulette to keep us on our feet.
Toby ran away sometime that year in August, stole the truck and called to tell us that he was up in Canada staying with someone named Natalie.
Kate kissed me good morning on a Sunday sometime in the winter of 2025, and said she was going on a walk. I found it weird she didn't invite me with, So I stood by my window to watch her walk into the woods beyond the house. I stood and stared. She didn't come back, so I went in.
I remember how deep my screams cut into the landscape when I found her hanging boots.
I remember I was out on a solo mission in the beginning of spring 2026, and came back to see the house burned down and no sign of Tim.
Three weeks later I got a call from one of the new recruitments saying he wanted me to find Tim.
I hung up, and dropped my phone to the gravel I stood on to be stepped on.
Sometime in 2031, I stood in some old gas station with one of my eyebrow shavers to my wrist. My drinking got bad and I'd been using heavier than I used to.
My new phone that sat on the sink rang, and I glanced to see the screen glowing.
It was an unknown number, and the chance it was either Toby or Tim strung on my heart and I picked up the phone.
"Hey, Babe, It's been awhile...huh?" I never dropped a thing so fast in my life. I knew he'd live, but didn't ever think he'd live again in my life.
It's weird, the guy who fucked up my life stopped me from suicide, and instead had me set on living.
Just to prove that I could live without thinking about him.
I do get depressed sometimes when I think of our little five fucked up membered group, but then remembered it us only now a one membered fucked up group.
I've been alone most of my life.
So it's only natural for me to be alone again.
Now I spend my days in a small town in Oregon, forced to spend my days with the New recruiter; Isaac Perez.
The only thing that stops me from going ape shit on him is that he reminds me of younger me, the one who still has a chance at life.
But if he's already caught the attention of him, I don't think this kids going anywhere but hell or maybe even prison.
"What are you thinking about?" My voice fills the silence of the warm, yet stale room. The black haired teen looks away from window that reveals the rainy pine forest beyond the cabin, and at me.
My eyes resist the urge to narrow on him. I hate how his black hair resonates the same shade as the smiling killer, who I haven't heard of or from in more than five years.
Unclenching my fist, I let my eyebrows unfurrow. I look up, and try to hide my smile at him immediately looking away in fear from my ( e / c ) striking his blue eyes.
"Have you ever read the book; Where The Hornets Nest, By Kate Hayes?" I ask, pushing the yellow covered book across the table and into Isaacs grasp.
He eyes it for a second.
"No."
I smile.
"Then read it, maybe it'll give you an idea what's going on in this fucked up world of a mind," I point to my head. "I know everything thats possible to know about you due to me taking a couple of nights to read your file, so I thought you should read this...auto biography." My foot begins to tap the wooden floor below.
"On page 202, the narrator states; 'The heads a hornets nest, but the only real question is Where they nest in the mind." I pretend to reminisce of the specific page number.
I wouldn't have to pretend to think of the quote Kate wrote down, after one night of messy talk.
"So, where do, the hornets nest in the mind?" Isaac slowly questions, picking up the book to flip through the thick pages.
For once he meets my eyes, and stares long enough to hear my reply.
"That's for you to decide, kid." I sigh.
Kate's last written novel was of our adventures, on the first page all it has is;
To My Five Membered Fucked Up Family, Enjoy It Before Your The Next Victim In It.
No one out side of the "Five Membered Fucked Up Family " understood what that meant, and that's how it was supposed to be.
WHERE THE HORNETS NEST
Your Story Of Life.
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Thanks for reading !!!
This story kind of explains me, from the beginning being cold, abnormal, to excepting and warm. Let me just say, I went through ALOT of shit while writing this (and alot of my books), and it feels good to finish what my old self started.
Also, the person talking with Y/n in the beginning of each chapter is their dad, private Alistair.
If you have any questions to any of the characters, storyline, or any parts where you were confused or just curious, let me know because I would be more than happy to answer them :)
A good song other than Evergreen for this chapter would've been Breezeblocks by Alt J, y'know cuz it says "Please don't go, I'll eat you whole, my lovely..." BAHAHAHHA IM SORRY
Anyways bye guys, Might be working on my new book but otherwise I think I'll be done for a good while.
_____________________
In The End, You Become What You Hate.
It's Almost The Same As; The Abused Becomes The Abuser.
But In This Case, It's The Killed Becomes The Killer.
The Story Repeats.