"Precous and fragile things
Need special handling
My God, what have we done to you?"


Nowhere to Go

If you were to look at house 779, you wouldnt notice much about it. TWo stories, clean paintjob, and a nice lawn. You wouldnt notice anything otu of the ordinary. You wouldnt know that aliens visited it at least twice a month on Tuesday. And you most definitely woudnt know that a kid lived there.

But a kid did live there. An 11-year-old kid, home fresh from the loloney bin. He had come home to an empty house and his room cleaned out. And there he was, lying in fetal position on the bare floor.

Todd Casil didnt know what god he had offended to deserve what he got. The only possessions he had to his name were the clothes on his back and an old teddy bear that once talked to him, but didnt say much anymore. He supposed the electroshock therapy had somthing to do with it. He held the bear tightly to him, watching a small bug crawl on the floor in front of him. His parents were gone right now -probably enjoying themselves without the burden of an unwanted kid- and had not been home when the bus dropped him off. He came home to no parents and no room to call his own.

He was alone.

Todd heaved a sight and squeezed his bear, Shmee. He had been home for three horus now. But there was nothing to do and nowhere else to go. So he waited. And waited. Months spent at a time in a padded cell for one had prepared him for this; three hours was nothing.

He was close to dozing off when he heard the front door open. he shot up from his spot on the floor and ran to his door before hearing voices.

"I thought they said the kid would be brought back today..." Todd felt a lump in his throat; he was still 'The Kid', even to his mother.

"I hope not," his father's voice said. "If they do and mess up this dinner party, I' swear, I'll just have to kill the kid to get rid of that little problem!"

Todd felt hot and icy cold at the same time. HIs hewart pounded agianst his small ribcage, and his grip on Shmee was iron-tight. "Oh no, Shmee!" he shipsered out of habit. "He's gonna kill me!" He could almost -ALMOST- hear Shmee reply, 'Told you so'. Almost. But right now, he had bigger problems. Like, getting out alive.

He looked around and remembered -the window. The Crazy Neighbor Man -whose name escaped him at the moment- had always come to his window. He rand to his and opened it, noticing that there was a trellis -why hadnt he noticed THAT before?- that ran right up to his window. ANYONE wanting to kidnap a kid could use it. He tucked Shmee into his hoodie and zipped it up, then slid out of the window and onto the trellis. He heared his father ascending the stairs, and quickly shimmied down, skipping the last three feet, and dropped to the ground.

Todd ran for the nearest thing -an old bush beside the house next door- and waited.

"...I thought I closed this thing," he heard his father say. The window closed and Todd heared the faint 'click' of the window locks. He was officially locked out. He waited a moment, then leaned against he brick of the house.

'Now what?' he mentally asked himself, half expecting an answer, and of course receiving none. He really had nowhere to go. He sat there behind the bush for a few minutes before relizing exactly which house he was leaning against.

House 777.

Todd gulped. 'Well,' he heard -himself?- say, 'why not?' He shakily stood up and walked to the front of the house. Desicrated, broken down, and filthy; it hadnt changed an iota. He summuned up whatever nerve he had and reached forward to knock on the door.

Nothing. No answer. He tried again. Ditto. Acting on despiration and shock-induced will, he reached and turned the knob. the door opened and Todd could smell dust, emptiness, and old death, much like a cemetary, only inclosed in a space. Against every part of his logical mind screaming 'NO!', he stepped inside.

It was incrdibly filthy, Todd noticed. And being ion a mental ward with clean-as-a-pin rooms, this irked him somewhat. But other than that he felt...

...At home.

Aside formt he dirty floor, there was the basics of a living room -couch, TV, tables, and even a lamp. Todd quietly shut the door behind him and decided to expore a little. There were broken items scattered over the floor, chunks of wall missing, and about one window still intact; the rest were crudely boarded over. The kitchen was normal-looking enough, save for the lack of dishes and cabinet doors. There was one bedroom that had a bed box with no mattress -or anything else, for that matter. A single bathroom with a rusted tub and blood-stained walls and floors.

There was one more door that had a lock, but Todd couldnt find a key to open it.

After exploring, Todd sat down on the couch and sighed. It would seem that this place was his best bet at the moment. He might as well make the best of it. He took Shmee out of his hoodie and hugged him, then laid down on the frayed couch and closed his eyes.


'...Oi, didja just feel that?'

'...'

'Hey, asshole, wake up!'

'What the fuck do you want, Eff?'

'Someone's heare.'

'Duh. It's a house, you psychotic dick. People inhabit them.'

'Not like THAT, D. This one's like the last one. This one's a Lock.'

'Yippie. Now shut up.'

'...Asshole.'


Todd had an odd dream. Not particularly terrifying, but odd nonetheless. He dreamt of a wall. It was guarded by two figures. The first one handed Todd a bucket full of something, then pointed at the wall. The other one handed Todd a gun and pointed to Todd's head. Todd dropped the gun, then threw the bucket at the wall, which spashed red with blood. The first figure cackled evilly.

'Bingo.'