Title: Don’t Tell
Character(s): Turbo, Turbo Twins, Fix-It Felix, Junior.
Reviews and constructive criticism are encouraged and appreciated.
“Disgusting” Turbo hissed, nose pressed against the screen, glowering at the machine opposite of him.
His accomplices, Jet and Set, stood either side of him and growled simultaneously.
“Why would Litwak install another racing game-“ Set began, a scowl etched into his face.
“When he’s got us” Jet continued, emphasising his last word with a hiss.
“And we’re the best there is!” They said in unison.
“We’ll have to up our game, boys” Turbo stated bluntly, his gaze never leaving the Road Blasters machine.
“An’ how’re we gonna do that, eh?”
“Yeah, them kids is attracted to all those-“
“Glitter graphics” They spat, words bathed in utter loathing and contempt.
They were hateful. All of them. They were the best, the most popular, the one and only racing game in the entire arcade! Every time a new machine arrived they secretly feared that it would be a game of their basic category. They had seen what had happened with competition. With each new game that entered the arcade the graphics became better, the concept a little more original, the music more modern and the games began to ever so slowly cater for other audiences.
What they feared and loathed was not out of egocentricity or even jealousy. It wasn’t a trick of the light, a private delusion, a monstrous hallucination. It was far more terrifying than any of those things combined.
It was real.
“We need to mull over this” The racer stated.
“Aw, nice observation, chief” Set snorted.
“Yeah, it ain’t like we been thinkin’ ‘bout that dog gone game since it got here” Jet continued.
Turbo growled, swiftly turning to them with his hand raised above his head, threatening to hit them. They shrunk back, subconsciously leaning into each other as a means of defence, should the beating come down on either of them. The protagonist calmed himself, arm lowering itself to his side before letting out an exasperated sigh.
“Why aren’t things as easy as racing?” Turbo asked, glancing at the track, speaking to no one in particular. Jet and Set shrugged in unison and both let out a grunt.
“Just one clean sweep would’ve been enough to win” He continued.
Something clicked within the twins’ connected consciousness. Their amber eyes met as they smiled grimly at each other.
“Why don’t we be good ol’ neighbours then, eh?” Set remarked uncharacteristically, smiling easily.
“Yeah, you know, mosey on over an’ greet them all neighbourly like” Jet continued, clasping his hands together. The sudden shift in demeanours caught Turbo off guard and he was ready to curse them for their thickness, their idiocy, when he realised what they were onto.
A sudden wave of hospitability washed over the racer.
“Take matters into our own hands, you mean?” He asked, already knowledgeable of the answer. The twins nodded in response.
“Ours, specifically” Jet corrected, gesturing to his brother and then to himself.
“We’ll greet’em” Set began, rocking on his heels and bending forward to Turbo’s eye level “Give’em gifts and go. Quick an’ clean, quick an’ clean” He finished, making quick, smooth motions with his hands, whilst internally musing on his last statement.
“’Sides, we all know you’d be too caught up in making it a show, a party” Jet folded his arms behind his back and watched as the protagonist’s face twisted into a disapproving frown. Turbo often disliked their knowingness as it signalled a sort of intimacy between the three. He wasn’t one for sentimental things and this often made him feel physically ill.
“You’d want everyone to see-“
“Everyone to know-“
Suddenly, they cut into their own sentences.
“It’s just a quiet event, no need for crowds” They stated, almost cautioning him like a mother would to a child.
“All right, I get it!” Usually Turbo would have never tolerated being treated like an inferior, especially by the twins, their words dripping with sarcasm and mockery. However, there was no time for chastisement now; they had a point, a goal, which needed to be fulfilled.
It seemed a quiet night, despite it being after work hours. Usually it looked a lot busier, was a lot busier, with characters having regular meet-ups with each other at various games and venues.
Fix-It Felix Junior took the opportunity to enjoy the lazy and tranquil atmosphere of Game Central Station. It seemed as though many characters decided to stay within their own games. Maybe someone was having a party and he knew not about it. Felix was generally a private person who stayed within his game and rarely ventured out to speak to other characters. He was living comfortably and saw no real reason to go out in search of foreign company when it was already provided for him. He possessed some acquaintances, yes, but that was as far it would go.
Whilst musing on nonchalant thoughts Felix found himself in an area in which he did not visit often. Turbo Time’s sign seemed to flash obnoxiously, as if seeking attention. He winced at the sheer gaudiness of it, frowning slightly before turning away.
“Hello Mr. Fix-It” The handyman jumped, startled at the sudden appearance of the two characters before him.
Jet and Set flashed a sincere and toothy smile at Felix.
“E-evening Jet and Set” He greeted, composing himself, lifting his hat up momentarily as was his own polite custom.
“Sorry to startle you” Set apologised.
“No, no, you’re quite alright” Felix retorted. He spotted something behind Jet’s back and cocked his head to get a better look at it.
“Whatcha got there, if you don’t mind me asking” Felix asked, curious “Goin’ to a party?”
“Oh, this” Jet held out tall and thin orange and blue striped box, supposedly with a gift inside it.
“Well, since you want to know” Set drawled. He titled his head and his eyes rolled over to meet his brother’s gaze.
“We thought it best to be neighbourly-“Jet began.
“So we decided to get a gift to greet the folk-“Set continued.
“From Road Blasters” With much restraint, they managed to not spit out that horrid name and maintained their air of cheeriness. It was not false, for they really were excited and delighted but the source of such emotion was to be questioned.
“Well, that’s mighty fine of you both” The handyman praised. He didn’t question the whereabouts of Turbo as he thought he would come across as nosy. The handyman gave himself a one curious question limit with acquaintances as to not tread on unfavourable territory.
“Hey, Mr. Fix-It, want to have a look at our present?” Jet asked quietly, giving the area a quick scan before eyeing Felix. The twins’ excitement seemed to go up another level.
“Oh, I don’t know, I mean-“ The handyman began, feeling himself going into an array of apologetic refusals and stutters as to not appear imposing.
“No, no, we insist! Take a peek” Set encouraged, bending down to his eye level.
“All right, if you wish” The handyman found their enthusiasm endearing and child-like. Jet looked around once more, with Set tentatively watching Felix. Felix could not help but feel as though he were a part of some secret club of sorts.
Jet lifted the lid of the box slowly. The handyman peered into it, not sure what to expect due to its length.
Sure enough he wasn’t expecting this at all.
“I-Is that a crowbar?” He uttered and squinted, utterly perplexed at the choice of gift. Jet nodded giddily, smiling widely and Set placed a hand over his mouth, muffling his quiet laughter.
“It’s a reminder” Set chuckled quietly.
“So that they can remember us” Jet elaborated, his index finger tapping the lid of the box
Suddenly all of their actions seemed to have a malicious edge to them. Felix stared at the twins incredulously. The two continued to giggle quietly, deriving sadistic amusement in their planned visit to the foul game.
“Don’t you just love it?” Jet whispered, gripping the box tightly.
“Now, don’t go tellin’ anyone, Mr. Fix-It” Set cautioned, wagging a finger at him as he smiled, in what would have been a friendly manner if Felix hadn’t known their ulterior motive.
“We don’t want the surprise to be ruined” Jet whispered before giggling quietly through clenched teeth.
“Because if you go spoilin’ the surprise-” Set undermined.
“We might just have to visit your game” They teased. It was a threat, yes, but the way they laced that sentence would have made any passer by believe it was a mock scold, a joke between friends.
Felix was petrified. The two continued to nod and giggle merrily. The way they derived such enjoyment and excitement and pleasure from the thought alone made him nervous. Their enthusiasm was a product of their lust for attention, their shared selfishness, he realised. Jet and Set were no longer seen as genial, polite and friendly figures but unnerving characters who exhibited signs of madness.
“Don’t tell Mr. Fix-It, don’t tell” Jet chimed, repeating it until the mantra became a horrific echo in Felix’s head.
“We’ll visit you if you do, Mr. Fix-it” Their unwavering formalities in their sadism further disturbed the handyman, who was now clenching his teeth, subconsciously mimicking their expressions and shrinking away. The words clung to him like a malignant cancer and grew until they shed their friendly tone to reveal something forbidding. He felt a strong urge to leave but horror made sure he remained frozen to the spot.
“Oh, we have to get a move on!” Set interjected in the midst of their mirth.
“Gosh, you’re right” Jet said, apparently genuinely concerned.
“Sorry ta hold you up, Mr. Fix-it” Set apologised as he began to walk away.
“Didn’t mean for the conversation to drag on for so long” Jet excused, following his brother after his sentence.
Felix remained still.
“Don’t tell, don’t tell, Mr. Fix-It!”
It would be days before he could get such graphic imagery out of his head.
“Keep it a surprise!”
Weapon of harm disguised as a gift to prevent the Surge Protector from questioning them. They were clever and cunning and cruel, despite what everyone thought.
If this is what they were like, Felix feared to think what Turbo could do.
It had been a long hard day of work for Felix, something that did not come by often, especially with some of the newer games that had been installed. The ever present night never changed and Felix drew comfort from such monotony. The lights in his apartment were out, as he allowed the 8-bit moon to provide the light for him. His need for routine, for simplicity, seemed impossible in the complex society of game characters.
The gamers assisted in giving him a distraction from morbid thoughts that had plagued him since the confrontation with the twins. Although with each passing day they lessened in severity and frequency they continued to gnaw at the very brim of his consciousness, waiting.
Felix gazed at the unchanging night, thankful for its simple sense of order.
There was a knock at the door.
Felix was brought back to reality at the sound and suspected that it was no one but Gene. He was always up and about, eager to talk to Felix and to praise him
“Hello Mr. Fix-It”
His blood ran cold.
They were there, the two of them, smiling at him in their genuine manner. Their eyes glowed from underneath the cover of their helmets, something that Felix had never noticed before.
Their tall figures walked further into the apartment room, forcing the handyman to back up, eyes filled with terror.
“Sorry if we arrived at a bad time” Set apologised unnecessarily.
“We know you had a busy day” The other stated. Felix could hear the faint echo of restrained harshness in Jet’s voice. It crawled under his skin and gripped at the muscle, good and tight.
“W-what are y-you doing here?” The handyman shakily asked, mind utterly numb with horrific anticipation. Jet ignored him and continued on from where his twin had left off.
“But we need to talk”
Set had locked the door behind him.
“Word got out”
It was delivered like a swift cut to the chest.
“I-I didn’t say anything!” Felix exclaimed, a little hysterically. His penchant for concealing negative emotion was ruining him. He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t run, he couldn’t defend himself. He just couldn’t.
“Mr. Turbo was mighty mad” The two spoke in such a degrading manner, treating him like a dumb child as they loomed over him, glowing eyes never faltering not even for a second.
“He didn’t like all that hushed gossip goin’ around” Set
“And neither do we”
“B-but a-anyone could have known!” The handyman managed to scrape up some courage but even then he used it to justify himself “It’s not like no one wouldn’t have noticed!” Felix was right; it wasn’t like the crime could have slipped under the radar so smoothly. No, no, there were definite bugs in the system, gossips and snitches all around.
The twins, however, did not seem to think so. If they did, they ignored such logic.
“Now, now, no need to be all jittery like” Set reassured, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow. It was Jet’s turn to lean on the only entryway, treading backwards carefully before leaning on the door.
Set grabbed Felix by the collar before swiftly picking out the handyman’s golden hammer with his free hand. The racer threw it back to his brother, who promptly kicked it underneath a cupboard some metres away.
“But we can fix that” Suddenly a callous hand gripped the handyman’s throat. He let out a small yelp before desperately trying to take in air. The racer continued to smile, enjoying his victim’s futile struggling. Just as it seemed that the handyman managed to take a breath, Set would tighten his grip on Felix’s feeble neck. The rush, the ecstasy, was more than racing could ever deliver.
The sense of panic the handyman felt was overwhelming. His mouth moved, trying to speak, to scream, to breath but nothing happened. His fingers tried to loosen Set’s grip but his hands shook so violently they faltered and fumbled in the feeblest way.
It was like watching the most pathetic of animals trying to scramble away from their predators.
Felix’s struggling slowed, his face turning a sickening shade of purple as his vision began to blur.
Set released his grip and dropped him on the floor, snorting with dissatisfaction. The handyman didn’t hold out for long, not like the others. He couldn’t dwell on his excitement and adrenaline. Regardless, he let out low and sinister laugh.
Felix greedily took in oxygen, desperate to recover. He was trembling and perspiration soaked his face.
Jet slowly paced forward as Set moved back to guard the door. They worked in patterns, like clockwork but better. The navy-clad racer waited until Felix seemed to regain awareness of his surroundings, or in the very least, his breathing. It was always much more fun when they were conscious.
The handyman, from the corner of his eye, spotted a familiar object.
It was the crowbar.
Jet pinned the protagonist down, left hand on clawing at his shoulder. Felix ‘s breathing was raspy and rough, he could only manage to hold onto the arm that threatened to tear his shoulder off, silently hoping he’d inherit Ralph’s strength and toss Jet off of him.
Jet held the crowbar high over his head, staring intently at Felix. The weapon hit the handyman’s face with such force that tears of pain began to form on impact. His skull shuddered, jaw almost locking and he the foreign feeling of warm blood trickling from his nostril made him whimper. The weapon suffered nothing and apparently, neither did Jet.
It wasn’t enough.
Once again the crowbar was held high in the air and repeatedly struck Felix’s face. The manoeuvre was so smooth and mechanical, reflex-like in nature; it was the ultimate example of muscle memory. He hit Felix right in between the eyes which unclenched his teeth, blurred his vision and shook him up like a man with vertigo. With each strike more and more blood seemed to appear, his nose bleeding profusely, teeth dyed red, tongue swimming in the growing pool of blood as he lurched and threatened to cough up the life liquid.
The concoction of blood, tears and mucus filled Felix’s mouth. It was the foulest thing he had ever tasted. The blood seemed to boil in his mouth, some of it trickling down into his throat. Felix continued to shed tears of pain feeling certain that a few teeth were loose or even floating in mixture of fluids.
In an unexpected act, Jet turned Felix’s head to the side, blood seeping out from the protagonist’s mouth. The handyman coughed and sputtered before a thick trail of saliva took with it a tooth, merging with the pool of red that had formed.
It was no act of pity, remorse or guilt but a cunning one. Jet did not need his navy-suit dyed red. He still needed it for their exit, after all.
Set yearned to see Felix’s bloodied pulp of a face, yearned to snake his hands around the handyman’s neck once more, asphyxiating him. Although more inclined to cause a bloodless suffering, the twin did not mind the occasional sighting of it. Set’s hands were itching to clutch something and his fingers scratched the door quietly in hopes of easing the urge. His turn would come soon.
Suddenly, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps.
“Hush your mouth, someone’s comin’!”Set whispered hoarsely. No one was speaking but he was accustomed to silencing wailing characters. His eyes widened in distress, clenching his yellowed teeth as he treaded slowly towards his brother, laying a supportive, if not dependent, hand on his shoulder. Jet’s gaze became unfocused and he stared to the side of the small apartment, unmoving, his hand over Felix’s mouth.
Sure enough an innocent Nicelander was shuffling past Felix’s door. The two were so absorbed in inflicting pain and suffering that they unknowingly detached themselves from the world around them. This forceful pull back into reality seemed to disorientate them and even after the quiet footsteps of the Nicelander had passed they remained still, as if expecting the individual to return or to suddenly appear before them.
This was more than enough time for the handyman to regain control of his breathing. The pain was immense and his face was swollen, bruises throbbing with pain but he managed to ignore it. Felix tore the unguarded twin’s hand from his mouth before kicking him back into his brother. The handyman picked himself up, his gloved hand absorbing the pool of blood as the lost tooth left a painful impression. He ran to the other side of his apartment out of fear, wishing desperately to lock himself in his room.
Set was helping his brother up when the protagonist decided to bolt. Jet grunted before speeding off behind the handyman with his arm reached out. His hand grasped Felix’s wrist tightly. Time seemed to stop for a moment, Felix’s face twisting into the very definition of terror before he was flung to the other side of the room. Set promptly delivered a right hook to Felix’s battered face. The now ragdoll-like Felix almost fell backwards, if it had not been for Jet who prevented him from hitting the floor. The racer set Felix down gently in order to not make any more noise.
“I’m glad we could settle this like civilised folk” Set began, retaining the formalities which were lost in that flurry of violence. Jet gingerly picked up the crowbar and handed it to his brother who placed it carefully in the same blue and orange gift box used not too long ago. The weapon had arrived in hiding, unbeknownst to Felix.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Mr. Fix-It. Gossiping ain’t really the way to go ‘bout things” Jet continued, clasping his hands innocently, feigning a sense disappointment in Felix. Set crouched down and retrieved the golden hammer underneath the cupboard.
The handyman began to sob bitterly, quietly whining and whimpering as he did. He couldn’t fathom how they could do this to him and then return to their false ways. It was just incomprehensible. It was monstrous.
“Now, now, Mr. Fix-It, you’d better make yourself decent” He said before pushing the hammer with his foot, the tool sliding towards Felix.
“You have work tomorrow” Jet chirped.
“We don’t want people to be whisperin’ and lookin’ at you all funny like. You must be proper” Set stated in a factual manner. Felix was their inferior to them in every way imaginable. In height, in appearance, demeanour, experience, age, physical ability – they did not refrain from reminding of such things. He had to remember his place in the arcade and such order was not to be disturbed.
“Don’t tell of our gift, Mr. Fix-It” Jet warned teasingly.
“It was just for you, just for you, no one else” Set sang.
“Don’t tell, don’t tell” They reminded in unison.
Felix froze at the mention of the mantra. Such suffering and pain he experienced, such indecency. It was an assault of the soul and they knew it.
“Good night, Mr. Fix-It”
The door shut. They were gone.
Felix looked up. There it was, that puddle of life liquid, his shoes apparently having stepped in it leaving footprints behind. The scene of horror played in his head again and again, the fingers curling around his neck, the force of steel and the unforgiving, unmoving eyes that glowed in the dark, lucid with their malicious intent.
Felix fell to the floor beside his golden hammer and crumpled up like a shivering leaf. He continued to sob quietly so that no one would hear him or even sense him. He would have wailed and screamed if he could but did not.
After all, he couldn’t tell now, could he?
- teqknical likes this
- idishido likes this
- alien-tea likes this
- kumaliza likes this
- insanestickfigure likes this
- anluz likes this
- maeve915 likes this
- classy-cow likes this
- micabell likes this
- stalkerofthemanyfandoms likes this
- vriska-secret likes this
- semen-twinkie likes this
- ohmahglobyahguys likes this
- ask-cybug-ralph likes this
- hypnolizard reblogged this from diseasegirl
- hypnolizard likes this
- harrower likes this
- skittles-n-gravy reblogged this from son-of-felix-sr
- ekyom likes this
- son-of-felix-sr reblogged this from diseasegirl and added:
- son-of-felix-sr likes this
- turbobug reblogged this from diseasegirl and added:
- skittles-n-gravy likes this
- turbobug likes this
- hollyjollyharlot likes this
- moss-28 reblogged this from diseasegirl
- jjadra likes this
- augustussinclairofficial reblogged this from diseasegirl
- diseasegirl posted this