The moment Bark had grabbed Chomby’s zipper, Chomby felt a strange sensation that he had difficulty describing. It almost felt like his skin was peeling away from itself, but not painfully. All his senses had gone cold.

When Bark pulled the zipper down, Chomby’s entire body felt like it collapse in on itself. He was expecting the sensation to be more painful, but it really didn’t feel like much. His body wasn’t torn apart, it wasn’t even harmed… outside of the hole in his neck. It felt like he just doffed a jacket, except he was the jacket.

A jacket? I guess I really was just a jacket, huh? Chomby thought to himself. He tried to close his eyes, but he realize he didn’t have any eyes to close. How could he? He couldn’t even hear anything around him because he didn’t have any ears to hear. All he could do was feel. At least he had that. He tried to take solace in knowing he was at least a physical object. Whoever was wearing him felt large and warm.

Chomby imagined himself sighing. He knew, outside of wherever he was, there was still a psychopath in charge of a cult. He hoped the police could handle it. Or maybe Xenon?

Chomby felt a strong sense of guilt wash over him. He didn’t even get to tell Xenon what he’d learned. But now, maybe he never could. He couldn’t fight, he couldn’t even communicate. He wished with all his might he could at least move. No matter what he did, though, no part of his body would work.

In a final act of frustration, Chomby began trying to flail every part of his body at once. He didn’t expect anything to come from it, but then he felt like he moved something – an arm.

Suddenly, Chomby’s eyes opened up. He instinctively shot into a sitting position and gasped loudly. He slapped his hands to his face. He felt his snout, cheeks, and headphones. Those things were all in tact. He then put a hand to his neck. He didn’t feel a hole anymore.

“What?” Chomby said aloud. He heard his voice echo. This brought his attention to his surroundings. He couldn’t quite explain where he was, but it was dark. The ground below him was smooth and felt like marble, yet it was a dark teal color. He tried to find any more details of his surroundings, but he could only see a few feet in any direction, and all he saw was the ground.

“Hello?!” Chomby called. His voice echoed for a few seconds. “Xenon? Heather? Stacy…?”

There was no reply.

“Uh… Bark?” Chomby called. When no one replied he tilted his head to the side. He had vague memories of this strange flooring. Though, the floor he remembered was in a bright landscape of cyan, green, and teal. This place looked nothing like that place.

Chomby spun in a circle. Everywhere he looked, it was just darkness. He started to walk and could hear his footfalls. It was just too quiet here.

“Hello?” Chomby called again. He wasn’t expecting a reply this time. “Am I dead?”

Still nothing.

Chomby wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He felt like giving up and slowed to a halt. But he then noticed, from the corner of his eye, a silhouette of some kind. He couldn’t make out what it was, but he recognized it was a solid object that stood above the ground. Curiosity led him to walk toward it.

The closer he got, the more he realized this object was humanoid of sorts. It stood at around eight feet tall and was currently turned away from Chomby. He froze when he realized this and examined it closely. It didn’t seem to be moving either. Perhaps it was a statue?

“Hello?” Chomby asked as he skirted around the statue. When he got to the front of the it, he noticed the figure had the head of a wolf. Its arms and legs were a bit longer than that of a regular human’s, too. Was this a werewolf? It certainly fit any description Chomby could remember, but it didn’t look like the person he’d been dreaming about all this time. It looked more like a hulking behemoth of some kind.

“It… it can’t be.” Chomby gulped. “Berithal?”

A dot of green appeared in the werewolf’s left eye. It’s body began to move. This caused Chomby to back up considerably. He now left the creature in the shadows and could only see its glowing eye.

“A-are you Berithal?” Chomby asked. He felt something in his chest beat fast. He wanted to think it was his heart, but at this point, he didn’t know. He was just a jacket.

The creature took a step toward Chomby. Chomby backed up a bit more. “W-what did you do? Where am I?”

Chomby heard a low growl from the creature.

He felt himself shiver. “Why did you haunt my dreams? What’s going on?”

It still didn’t reply.

“Please! I- I just wanted to understand who I was!” Chomby started to tear up. “I just wanted to feel that warm, kindness! I wanted to have friends!”

The creature stepped forward. He stepped back.

“I wanted to save my friend, Xenon! I wanted to save Heather, too! They were so kind to me, and- and- and,” Chomby lifted his hands to the sides of his head and grasped it hard. He swore he could feel his claws dig into his skin. “I didn’t mean for them to get hurt! They were only trying to help me!”

The creature stepped forward. Chomby could see its full figure again. It now had two, glowing green eyes. Chomby chose to not step back this time. His vision had already lost its focus as he was now fully crying. “I didn’t mean for them to get hurt! I’m sorry! It’s all my fault!”

Chomby dropped to the ground and continued to sob. “I just wanted to feel like I was a person! I just wanted to be loved!”

The creature stopped in front of Chomby. He tried wiping away his tears to clear his vision, but he was too terrified and distraught, so the tears only kept coming. “Please! Please! I just wanted to live! I just wanted to be loved! I just wanted Sarge back!”

Chomby felt the creature place a finger under his left eye. Because of the fur on the creature’s finger, the tears soaked up, leaving Chomby’s eye dry. He could fully see now. Though the area was still dark, he could see the creature clearly.

Its overall visage was still threatening. The pools of black it had for eyes and its cold, calculating expression only worsened this feeling. Yet, it wasn’t doing anything to hurt Chomby. It was merely sitting down, cross-legged in front of him.

“Chomby,” it said with a deep growl in its throat.

“Wha-?” Chomby replied.

“Friend.”

“What about your friend?” Chomby whimpered out.

“My friend,” it poked Chomby’s chest. “You.”

“I’m your friend?” Chomby looked down at his chest, then up at the creature. “Are we?”

It nodded. “Think… hard. Thinking… hard. Thinking…” its voice trailed off as it looked up to the sky. “Lavender.”

“Lavender?” Chomby asked. “What about it?”

“Smell. Lavender.” It stood up. As it did so, the darkness faded slightly. Chomby could now see further. He also noticed very, dark, green lights in the sky.

“Do you? How? I don’t see any-”

“Xenon,” the creature hissed.

“X-xenon?” Chomby asked. He had almost forgotten one of the strange things about Xenon’s species. Their sweat smelled very similar to lavender. This meant that this creature was somehow smelling Xenon.

Chomby quickly stood up. “Do you know if Xenon’s okay? Is he safe? What’s going on? Where is he?”

The creature looked at Chomby. “No.” It scratched its head. “He is not safe. He is… in danger.”

“I need to help him!” Chomby rushed over to the creature and grabbed its hand. “Berithal, or whatever you are, please! Let me go save my friend! I just found him! I can’t let him die!”

“Ber-ithal?” The creature asked. It looked down at Chomby in confusion. “Who?”

“Uh… aren’t you Berithal?” Chomby let go of the creature’s hand. “The werewolf deity thingy that Bark had been touting?”

“No?” The creature turned around. At this moment, Chomby realized its sentences, mannerisms, and thoughts were becoming more cohesive. “Me… erm… I don’t think I am. I’m… uh…”

Chomby watched as the creature continually scratched the top of its head in contemplation. It looked at Chomby, then at the ground, then at the sky. It then snapped a finger as its eyes lit up. “Oh! Yes! I’m Sarge!”

Chomby’s chest thing skipped a beat. He still didn’t know if it was a heart. “S-Sarge?”

“Last I checked, yes.” Sarge continued to scratch his head. As he did this, the area started to light up more. This allowed Chomby to now see the horizon, as dim as it may have been.

“Mind’s foggy. Hard to think, though,” Sarge said.

“You don’t look anything like the dreams I had about you,” Chomby said as he looked the creature up and down. “You’re all… big and monstrous looking! What’s with your eyes? Why do you look so terrifying?”

“Hmm?” Sarge looked down at himself. He then looked up at Chomby. He pointed at Chomby’s neck. He then grasped at his own. “Ahh, yes. Hurt. Nearly fatal. Mental stress.”

“Are you always like that?”

“No, this is temporary.” Sarge closed his eyes and turned his head around. He opened them again and stared at Chomby with an eyebrow raised. “What did you get yourself into?
A cult? You’re a part of a cult now?”

“No, I was… forced into it.”

“Explain. Fast.”

Chomby did his best to explain what was happening. Because Sarge requested a brief explanation, he only managed to say Bark was a stalker who terrorized Chomby, kidnapped Xenon and Heather, and tried to sacrifice Chomby to summon ‘Berithal’. Bark found a zipper on Chomby’s neck and that’s where Chomby was now.

Sarge stared at Chomby blankly for a moment. His mouth slowly curved into an elongated smile. “Ha… ha… ha….”

Chomby lowered his ears. “Did I… do something wrong?” Chomby poked his fingers together. “I must’ve if you’re laughing at me.”

“Give me a moment, Chomby.” Sarge lifted a finger and looked to his left. “Ha… ha… ha….”

Chomby wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now, so he waited. He twiddled his fingers above his belly. He felt he couldn’t look Sarge in the eyes. This wasn’t anything like he was hoping for.

Sarge cleared his throat. Chomby looked up.

“Sorry about that.” Sarge walked back to Chomby and sat down in front of him. “So, how are you doing, Chomby?”

“I… I don’t know.” Chomby folded his arms and shivered. “I thought for the longest time I was going crazy. Yet, the more I dug into this craziness, the more I uncovered about myself… and about you, Sarge.” Chomby looked at the ground to his left. “I felt I was doing the right thing by trying to save Xenon, but, the more I think about it, the more I realize I’m probably dead now.”

“Why do you say that?” Sarge asked.

“Where even are we?” Chomby gestured to their surroundings. “It’s like a flatscape, off-color, vaporwave thing. Instead of purples, we got greens. Is this heaven? Is this hell? Where are we?”

“Eh, neither.” Sarge shrugged. “Mindscape. I’m a bit confused as to why you forgot, though. You get amnesia?”

“Something like that,” Chomby sighed. “Anyone I talked to seemed to forget you existed. If not for all the stuff you wrote, the case files you did, and the mainframe, there would have been no evidence you even existed. For me, at least. Seems people immediately forgot who you were when they talked to me. It’s like I was cursed.”

“Hmmm,” Sarge scratched his chin. “Sounds like a defense mechanism, really.”

“Defense mechanism?” Chomby asked. “Why is getting people to forget about you a defense? It’s been anything but!”

Sarge scratched his head again. As he did this, his monstrous form started to shrink. His arms and legs became stockier. The black fur patterns that were nearly covering all his body started to fade and show a more even set of his gray, cream, brown, and black color palette. “Well, think about it logically. If you wanted to stay zipped up, it would be hard to do it if people tried to unzip you, right?”

“What are you even talking about?” Chomby asked.

Sarge frowned. “Don’t you remember? We stayed zipped up for too long and the zipper vanished. Last thing I heard you say was that you felt weird, like your body was trying to ‘reassemble itself’.”

Sarge’s eyes changed from their pitch black coloration to a more standard, white sclera with green irises. He now looked a lot less terrifying.

“I… don’t remember that at all. Sorry, Sarge.” Chomby looked away. “Everything I know about you is gone, if that’s the case.”

Sarge looked down at the ground. “I see.”

“So if we’re not dead, then where are we?”

Sarge smirked. “The usual. Big open field, standing next to the remains of a cultist circle. Smell of blood in the air… and Xenon is tied up in a chair.”

~~~~~

The next chapter in the book. I hope you all enjoy! :D

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Chomby/Sarge/Xenon/Story/Art (C)  Juntarhenogu