Midnight, Stars and They - A Lovecraftian Horror Show [Shiva the Cat x GrinningGentleman]

[GrinningGentleman]

An alternative continuation of Midnight, Stars and You, from post #54​

Jacob nodded slowly as Rosie continued about the Charity drive, looking thoughtful, as he considered his options. He wasn't sure he was in a good enough standing with Molly, that she'd ever consider hosting something like that, on his behalf. Not to mention, he wasn't sure she'd do so, without the prospect of earning a dime. To be honest, he wasn't sure Liam would, either. It started weighing a bit heavy on his heart, that two of his best friends, had become so foreign to him. Something they never had, when he knew them, suddenly meant so much to them.
Jacob's attention returned to Rosie, as she suggested he just needed to reap the benefit of such a drive, causing the man to chuckle lightly, raising a hand rather dismissively. He paused, however, seeing her gaze out the window, promising to extend him an invitation. His eyes narrowed for a moment at the young woman's expression, his lips curling a gentle little smile.
"And I'd jump at the opportunity." He started, smiling with a playful little smile, before raising his prosthetic hand. "But, I've already got my hand. If I can give a few others a chance to get theirs as well, I'd be happy to help. I'll look into it. Not like it'll take a lot of effort. Just don't get your hopes up. I... Don't know if I know my old friends, as well as I'd hoped." Jacob explained. At least, he'd try. It was more than most people did, these days.

Jacob's smile just grew, seeing the sweet country girl, grow so downright baffled at his suggestion. To him, it'd seemed such a simple thing. It was just dinner. He could take advantage of her time, to meet this mechanic, buy her a cheap dinner in return, and see if old Russel was still kicking.
"Yes." He said, matter-of-factly, nodding his head a single time. His voice was genuine and warm, and for a moment, he wished he'd hesitated a bit more on that. Was he getting her hopes up? Did he want to do that? All he was really looking for, was another friend, or acquaintance in town. Wasn't it? Her warm eyes might've won him over, as they met his, was he still abroad. But even as his mind wandered to his old feelings for Molly, Rosies eyes pierced through.

Jacob's smile seemed to brighten a little, as she agreed, looking through her pockets for a pen and paper. In that moment he realized another common commodity, he didn't exactly have access to. He smiled at her suggestion, nodding a single time.
"I don't exactly have one, personally. I'll be the easiest to reach on this one, during the day. The one at work. And this one, I might be available near, in the evenings." He suggested, writing down two numbers, after borrowing her pent. If she knew anything about phone-lines, the second one might be recognizable as a phone-booth. He wagged the pen a bit, tapping it against the top number. "Make sure that scary Head Nurse of yours, doesn't find out where this number leads, though..." He warned, smirking lightly as he took her number, folding it into his pocket, before stroking his towards her with the pen.

Her reaction to hearing his job, made Jacob smile a little wider, as he continued to explain. He hadn't really expected any different. While it was just as decent work, as the next, it did come with some judgment. He'd let her have hers. If it did scare her off from ever contacting him, so be it. It'd be a shame, sure, but he'd understand. She was clearly a lot more reserved than he was. But, maybe it was for the best if she couldn't look past the company he kept at work. He sure wasn't going to take hell, from a strange, for his line of work. He could barely take it from Molly.
Her small smile did soothe him a little. She didn't seem entirely scared off. And, he couldn't agree more with her statement, nodding with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I like to think so. It seems a rare opinion, these days, though." He added, shrugging just one shoulder, with a slight shake of his head, looking out the window for a moment.

He turned his attention back, just in time to see an attempt at hiding a jawn, causing him to chuckle slightly, sitting himself up.
"Oh, dear. Hope I haven't kept you from your bed." He suggested with a chuckle, turning out of the booth himself, with a lot less exhaustion.
"Yes, please do. And. The pleasure's been all mine... Roseline." He mused her name with a little more charm than necessary, reaching out his hand to take her's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Still think it'd be a shame if you let your Mother ruin such a pretty name for you." He suggested with a playful little smirk, giving nodding his head a single time as he let go. "Hope you sleep well. And, look forward to hearing from you." He added, nodding a formal farewell, before turning to Heidi. "Thanks for the coffee, Ma'm. Could you point me to the toilet?" He asked, heading towards the facilities as pointed, if any, with a warm smile on his lips.

-----------------​

With a short bathroom break, Jacob was back onto the empty, lonely streets. Had he not been so deep in thought, he might’ve thought it wonderous, just how empty they were. Not even Heidi, the young waitress had been visible, upon his return from the bathroom. And the silence? Usually, one’s thoughts might drown out in the sounds of busy New York streets.
This night, however, carried nothing but eerie silence with it.

Jacob noticed none of it. His thoughts were rampant, in a well of emotions and imagination. Thanks to Rosie, he might get his hand fixed, soon. No more bugs. No more fretting, it might suddenly clench, when it wasn’t supposed to.
Also thanks to Rosie, he had something new to occupy his mind. Not only the idea of the Charity drive, that he had to bring up with Liam and Molly. Not only the fear that he might be stopped by the Police, and forced to pay a fine, for the very hand the Government had given him. But also warmer thoughts. Thoughts of that sweet smile. That discreetly flirtatious hint, with her gaze out the window. The cute, shy shock, and aghastness, that he would invite her out to dinner!

And then, there were thoughts of Molly, of course. Those, never wandered far. Always, was she there. Somewhere, in his mind. How disappointed. How distraught she’d looked, as he declined her generous offer. Why did he? Why didn’t he just pull himself together, and work for her instead? Or, pull himself together, and find a different job? Be… Someone else. Since when, did his thoughts of Molly, make him want to be different?


Passing by an alleyway, the man’s thoughts were interrupted by a bright light, shining from within. It was a strange light. It carried with it, a sensation of confusion and discomfort.
At first, Jacob ignored it. Continued upon his way, not even glancing over his shoulder. Then, another alleyway, and another bright light. Now, his eyes narrowed. He hesitated, gazing over his shoulder for a second, before continuing on his way, tugging into his coat a little further, raindrops definitely making it onto his shirt around his neck.

Again. A different alleyway. As if the lights were following him, and this time he stopped. Turning around, he looked back at the alley he’d passed, now shining with that strange light. A strange hue of red… Purple? Not entirely. He couldn’t name it, because he’d never seen it.

His eyes narrowed, thoughts of setting into a run coming to mind, but a sound paused him. A strange, almost humming sound. It grew into a low, almost buzzing moan. A woman. A man? Then silence.

Pulling himself together, Jacob set back towards the alley, carefully looking around the corner. The Neon-esque lights definitely didn’t belong in that alley. There were no shops, just backdoors. He could, however, not see the end of the alley, the lights at their brightest there. Its Origin.
Then, the moaning returned, and in the blink of an eye, he saw a figure, of no discernible gender, somewhere, deeper in the alley.

“Hello?” Jacob called through the heavy rain, as he took a step around the corner, and into the alley. “You alright?” He called out, worried the figure was in pain. That groaning. The more he heard it, the less human it seemed. Foreign. Strange. Discomforting, to say the least. He was already regretting his steps.

He couldn’t leave. His mind kept telling him to, but he couldn’t make the steps. As a deer in headlights, he stood in the middle of the alley, staring at the shadowy figure, amidst intense, indescribable colors.
The groaning grew in intensity. Louder, but less human. He couldn’t even put this low growling to an animal. It was. Bubbly. Deep. Booming. Like Bass, strum in water, in one long, continuous tone. It grew louder. Deafening.

Jacob’s face contorted in pain, but even as his eyes burned at the bright light, he couldn’t close them. Even as his ears felt ready to burst, he could cover them. He could only stare, and yell. But no sound came. The deafening roar from the figure completely drowned out his own.

Then, in a split second, the figure changed. Showed a different shadow. Human? Not entirely. It’s head, too large. Hips, too wide. Bulging. Bulbus. Behind it, a mess of tendrils writhed, stretching out from its head, with no face.

Then it was gone. Back to the same, shadowy figure. Back to the same, eerie silence. Panting, Jacob gathered his breath but realized his lunges wouldn’t take in. Couldn’t breathe. He gasped, and in a second, the world twisted. Shook, for a second, but he remained still.

Then, it was all turned upside down. He only knew, because his body started falling. Falling up, into the sky. With him, pebbles of water flew into the sky. Puddles, upturned, like pouring out a bucket, shot with him towards the dark sky. Again, he could not scream, his lunges empty of air. He flailed, body spinning as he was flung into the nights sky, passing rooftops as he neared the clouds.

The further up he got, the clearer the lights source became. It wasn’t close, but far. Far off, on the horizon. His body started adjusting to the new, estranged gravity, the sky now down, and the city streets bellow him up.
In a second, his fall stopped, as his eyes fell upon the source of the light. The booming groan returned, as he gazed upon something most foreign. A huge mass of. Flesh? He couldn’t even be sure. Far, out on the ocean, it sprawled over the sea, tendrils whipping and flailing at the sky, as it turned its massive body around. Gazing at Jacob, a mess of black pits. It did not look like eyes, but he knew the monster was staring at him. Furthermore, he saw other figures in the sky. Other people, brought to the heavens by the same foreign power.

He should not be able to see so far, but somehow he did. On top of the massive monster, a community of strange creatures. Humans, but not quite. Bulbus figures. Oily. Slick. Scaly. Like fish. But still, some seemed strangely familiar. They all stared in various directions. The other figures around? But the Monster. The Monster, Jacob knew, was staring at him.

One of its massive tendrils started reaching out for Jacob, as the light started focusing in his direction once more. Intense fear took over, and he finally managed to scream.

Everything returned to normal. The sky was up. The ground, was down. With a clash, a man landed broken to the cold, wet street, rain splashing around him like buckets, before rain returned to normal.
Contorted, Jacob lay dead on the cold streets. Bones broken, muscles tenderized, he did not suffer his fall. His face, wrapped in such absolute horror. The face of a man, seeing his worst nightmare before his death. His presumable death.

-----------------​

A day went by, and it became Wednesday. Jacob never showed up for work. Liam never showed up to lunch with Vera. Instead, on Thursday, Liam found his way to Molly’s apartment. Bottle of his own Whiskey in one hand, his suit a disheveled, uncharacteristic mess, tattered by dirt, water and various alcohol. Yes, everyone knew Liam liked his drink, but he would not be caught dead like this. Ever.

Liam had stalked Molly’s place, knowing she’d be home, as he stumbled his way towards her door. A heavy, drunken hand, thumped at the door. A few times with some delay, like a clock ticking.
“M. Moe? Moe, we. We need to talk.” He called out, voice thicker than usual, his Irish accent coming through in a slurred haze. Emotions weren’t barred on the skin, however. His intentions, unclear. His drunken condition, not.