Johnny's father perused the report card for two minutes that felt like twenty. All he could do now was just sit there in his seat and stare forwards now that he was in the spotlight. His father continued reading paragraph after paragraph of his teachers' notes and complaints.
"It's all just the same stuff, over and over," his father huffed as he flipped the report card over, his voice hushed and monotonous as if he were sighing every word. It was a voice that suited the dreary-looking man well, as well as his clothes. Johnny's father normally wore a rather monochrome outfit: a short sleeved Oxford shirt, black tie, and black slacks.
He scanned over the inverse side of the report card. "Same 'he loves the class but won't do the work,' every single time."
Johnny looked at his dad wide-eyed as if he was a confused pet. The wall behind him in his father's study was lined with a multitude of diplomas, class photos, and vintage, grainy portraits of men in labcoats standing beside their experiments. It did well in adding a stinging irony to the whole ordeal.
His father continued. "'…Jonathan Ward has a great attitude in class but almost religiously fails to turn in homework…' '…I fear Mr. Ward lacks the work ethic to succeed in this rigorous course…' '…Johnny's attention in class is seemingly ad-hoc and gung-ho to topics he takes great interest in, but this is not reflected in his homework or quizzes…'"
"I got a 90 on the history quiz." Johnny cringed internally as his attempt at lightening the mood only drew ire from his father.
"You know, Johnny…" his father began, rolling his eyes as he set down the report card. "You're on track to flunk out if you keep this up. I don't know what else to do."
He then began assessing his son with his judgemental black eyes, briefly scratching the top of his black crew cut before returning his attention to the report card. He pulled out a manilla folder where he stored Johnny’s report cards and slipped the latest inside. Johnny watched as his father carefully adjusted the folder’s orientation until it was as parallel with the edge of the desk.
He then lifted his hands from the folder, careful not to disturb its perfectly straight orientation on his meticulously neat desk. "I can't continue to waste my money on your mistakes anymore. You need a tutor. You're old enough to find one, and the school has plenty."
"How am I supposed to get a tutor?" Johnny whined. "I don't know how to, or where to start, and the ones at school…" He then began backtracking. "Wait, no, I can do this. I can do the work, just trust me…"
Johnny's father rubbed his temples. "You're eighteen. Ask your friends, ask your counselor," His father paused, jabbing a thumb backwards to the diplomas behind him. "Or, ask me. I know a few people. You can also look it up online. Make use of all those hours you spend gaming on that damn computer for once."
This sucks balls, Johnny thought to himself, almost blurting those words out loud as he shrugged his shoulders, defeated. "It's weird, Dad… because I want to do good, but, like, I don't know how to do good. Can't focus, don't like the work…"
"Man up, and have some faith in yourself, Johnny. After all, I have all the faith that you can do so." His father's tone lightened for only a split second as he sighed. "You've made it this far. Don't waste it away. Like I said, I can't pay for your mistakes or hear your excuses anymore, unless it's to get a tutor. So, go get one."
Johnny's father then stopped, noticing his phone had begun vibrating on the table. He reached for it, standing up from his seat.
"Maybe then, you'll learn a thing or two about good study habits." He looked down at his son with the same judging glare, although a smidge of affection was in his tone this time around. "Let me know who you pick by the end of the week, and I'll work something out. Gotta take a call."
Johnny watched his father pass him and exit the study, then waited until he was out of earshot. He pouted, resting an elbow on the table as he propped up his chin against his palm, then gave a loud sigh.
"This sucks balls."
There's still time left, Johnny. You're fine.
Don't you worry. I believe in you. ^3^
brick may be able to help
Its gamer time @everyone
get in voice
Johnny's chin was propped against his knuckles, his elbows on the table. His eyes were glued to the monitor as he stared at the mysterious user’s profile picture.
Brick’s zip file was full of broken and incredibly suspicious links, but finally Johnny found himself at the user’s profile. This was his last shot, and he couldn’t afford not to take it.
Be it math questions, history questions, life advice, or even financial advice, Clethos apparently could answer it all. However, Johnny didn’t feel comfortable trusting someone so enigmatic so soon, let alone someone from the darker circles of the internet.
It was worth a shot though. After all, any help was better than no help at all.
After pondering his next move for a moment, Johnny placed his hands on his keyboard, then began to type.
A “CLETHOS is typing…” blinked beneath the input box as Johnny waited. Sixty dreadful seconds had passed, and knowing how apparently tech-savvy this Clethos person was, they were probably typing up something very long.
He was wrong. Shut down not by an essay, but only six words.
Johnny sighed out of frustration and started pacing around his room. His mind raced with numerous alternative scenarios for what to do. He dug his fingers deep into his black hair. He came up with nothing: he had no other options.
What the fuck do I do now? He huffed loudly, thrusting his hands to his sides in anger. All that deep-diving and web crawling, searching for answers and solutions, clicking on suspicious links and chatting with unsavory people… was it all for nothing? Was he really going to just flunk out all because of this?
Johnny rushed back to his computer after hearing a ping, plopping down in his seat as he focused in on the “CLETHOS is typing…” at the bottom of the screen.
Try this one out.
Johnny quickly moved over to the Friends tab and opened up a DM with Brick.
Johnny picked one of the pills up. It was red and smooth, and were it not for the strange chalky smell it gave off he would've otherwise mistaken it for a jelly bean.
A red pill, huh. Johnny chuckled at the symbolism here, unceremoniously placing the pill in his mouth and swallowing it with a swig from his water bottle.
After about a minute, he leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh, feeling a sort of "clearness" entering his mind. He was alive, thank God, but the pill definitely had done something to him. Was it lightheadedness or something else?
He felt much more receptive to the world around him, but also felt much more aware of his environment, as if hyper-alert.
Okay… I can do this.
Johnny nonchalantly approached his father's workstation, arms folded behind his back. His father's typing on the keyboard sounded like machine gun fire as he worked, his attention fixated on whatever was on the computer.
"Hey, Dad?"
Johnny's father stopped typing and lifted his head up from his computer, his face artificially brightened by the whitespace on the screen. "Yes?"
"I, uh," He paused, trying to come up with an alibi in those few miliseconds. "Well, a couple days ago, I found a tutor through my friends. Online guy."
"Oh, really? Is that true?" Johnny's father cracked a small smile.
"Yep," Johnny fibbed, "I'm paying him through Paypal, weekly, and I'll send you the details. He specializes with math, but also is helping me with English and History, too." He folded his arm, smirking. "How's that for putting my gaming skills to the test?"
"That's great." Johnny's father said calmly, typing something out with both of his index fingers. "Hopefully we'll see some improvement all across the board. Have a good night."
Johnny smiled and executed an about face, stepping out of his father's study. "You too, Dad."
Get fucked
anotha 1 for the #cursed_messages channel
Johnny squinted at those words for a moment, trying to draw some meaning from Clethos's cryptic threat. How was someone like brick smarter than him? Someone who, lest he forget, could barely form a coherent sentence and spoke in broken English?
Then, he paused, setting his eyes on the last remark.
In-person…?
The realization of what Clethos had meant by this then hit Johnny like a thrown brick as he froze up in his seat, sitting upright and rigid. He felt a lump in his throat as his heart skipped a beat.
Oh my fucking God. I gave him my home address.
I'm so fucked.
He heard a loud crash at the front door and immediately rose from his computer. Johnny crept out into the main atrium, looking for a hiding space or viable weapon. He paused as his gaze passed over the front door…
…which was missing.
In its place was a large, vaguely humanoid-shaped black mass in the doorway, standing slightly hunched over and casting a long shadow into the house from the light of the street lamps behind it. The man-shaped void emanated an unnatural, cosmic darkness as it stood there motionless, almost as if Johnny was viewing a chunk of the world that was missing from reality.
There were no defining features on its face except an unnaturally large open maw, filled with rows of white, razor sharp teeth… albeit vestigial, given the sheer volume of teeth. A clear liquid dripped from its mouth and fell to the wood floor, giving off a repetitive wet pitter-patter noise.
"Jooohhhnny…" it whispered, its voice slurred and slow as if it were artificially modified. It slowly turned its head towards him, its open maw reshaping into a crude smile. It then raised a fist, two clawed fingers extending out in a peace sign.
Johnny could barely speak at all. His mind stopped thinking about his run, hide, or fight plan as he instead started losing his shit. His legs slightly buckled as tears formed in his eyes, which were still having difficulty adjusting to the paranatural darkness before him. He just stared at the thing in the doorway, frozen in awe and fright.
The silhouette entered as smoothly as a panther, its steps giving off a light thumping noise as if it were walking barefoot on the floor.
"…I shall get my fair share…"
The room seemed to warp and contort around Johnny as if it were being stretched like silly putty as the entity extended a hand out towards him.
"….one way or another!"
Its movements were surreal, as if they were from an animation in 60 frames per second. In only a few bounds, the entity had made it halfway across the living room and into Johnny's face, pushing him towards the kitchen with a single shove as it bounded over the sofa.
Johnny fell to the floor, but before he could move, the entity had pounced on him, pinning him to the floor as it opened its maw. More of the slimy, clear liquid dripped down onto his face as he bore the brunt of an otherworldly howl that seemed to vibrate him and the room around him.
Johnny's ears continued ringing as the monster grabbed him by the neck, beginning to squeeze tight as its breaths became more and more laborous. He flopped his arms onto the entity's wrist in an attempt to get it off his neck, but to no avail. His hands began to slip across its oily skin, his fingertips feeling a tingling sensation similar to the effect of his arms falling asleep as he began losing control over his limbs.
"Clethos…" Johnny croaked weakly. The creature only continued huffing as it placed two hands around his neck, tightening its grip.
"…squeeze his head off… squeeze his head off… squeeze his head off… squeeze his head off… squeeze his head off…"
Johnny began seeing stars as the world began to darken around him…
***
CLICK-CLACK
Clethos immediately loosened its grip on Johnny's neck. Johnny took a long and loud gasp as he broke into a violent coughing fit, painfully turning his head towards whatever the entity looming above him was looking at. He saw black dress shoes and black slacks… along with the shape of something long and dark held in the arms of his father.
That sound he heard was instantly recognizable as the sound of a shotgun racking, the universal
sound to kiss your ass goodbye.
BANG
Thick, tar-like ectoplasm spattered against Johnny's face and the nearby furniture as Clethos staggered backwards, slowly looking down at the dinner plate-sized hole in its chest. It hissed with fury and assumed a combat stance as it lunged at Johnny's father, but not before he racked the tactical shotgun again and put another blast into the entity's head at point blank.
BANG
Johnny cringed as he saw Clethos's body fly across the room, ragdolling and dropping to the floor atop their coffee table, snapping it in two. It raised what Johnny now assumed to be its head, which it was missing half of along with a sizable portion of its jaw, as it turned towards his father.
CLICK-CLACK
BANG
Johnny's father wasted no time in shooting the monster again. More oily chunks were blasted from Clethos's head as it was almost completely reduced to pulpy ribbons, its teeth littering the floor like confetti from a party. It weakly raised an arm towards Johnny's father as it hissed and groaned like an injured animal.
Johnny saw his father simply kick the arm away, bending it at an impossible angle to the side and placing his right foot on the arm, while he planted his left foot on Clethos's chest.
CLICK-CLACK
BANG
Clethos finally went limp as Johnny's father stepped off the monster, racking his shotgun for one last time. Johnny really had no words about the whole ordeal as he watched his father calmly place the shotgun against the couch, reaching into his pocket for his phone and dialing a number. He then placed the phone to his ear.
"Hello? …yeah. It's Dr. Ward. …yeah, I had a bit of a situation at home. … Yes, it's been resolved." His father began to pace back and forth. "Just need cleanup and some Class A here," He paused, turning to his son as he glanced at him. "For one."
"..Dad..? What's going on..?"
His father hung up the phone and put it in his pocket. "Johnny… holy shit. I thought I told you to work smart, not hard…"
Johnny sat up on his butt. "B-but I did—"
"No. You worked dumb." His father said sternly as he emphasized his frustration with a knifehand. He sighed, briefly glancing over the corpse of the entity he had just killed. Steam rose from the body as the onyx skin melted away, leaving behind a blackened husk of a skeleton with large, misshapen extremities.
"How the hell do I explain this to them.. to you.." Johnny's father sighed loudly as he began talking to himself, pacing back and forth.
An idea for a response formed in Johnny's head as he finally stood up with great effort. "Dad… is that an, uh, infohazard?"
Johnny's father stopped, turning to his son with an incredibly confused look, his nose wrinkling as he narrowed his eyes in confusion. "No, that's not an info— how the hell do you know what those are? Oh, jeez…"
"He taught me." Johnny gestured to the corpse. "And he gave me some pills that helped."
He saw his father roll his eyes and shoulders as he gave a loud, extended sigh. "Pills? From online?!" He shook his head. "Like I said, Johnny… you should've just hired a damn tutor. Not a goddamn anomalous fiend from online."
The sound of a car approaching and parking in their driveway caused Johnny's father to lose focus and turn to the window. "Sounds like my coworkers are here. Wait here. Everything will be normal soon."
"Wait, what do you mean—" Johnny's voice trailed off as his father completely ignored his pleas, exiting the house. He peered over at the smoking body of Clethos for a split second, grimacing at the gruesome sight one last time, before crawling to the window.
Outside, his ectoplasm-spattered father was standing beside a white van bickering with a bespectacled man in a pristine white labcoat, with two men in blue jumpsuits and respirators close by inspecting a trail of darkness leading up to their front porch. The men in jumpsuits were also spraying some hazy aerosol around the place from strange machines they wore like backpacks.
The area was already being cordoned off by yellow caution tape by two more men in blue jumpsuits and respirators, but, otherwise, the world moved on as if nothing was going on.
What.. the.. fuck?
His mind was going in circles as his vision went fuzzy again. As the haze approached the house, he felt memories swap and shift around in his head. The raid sessions with Brick and Astro, the lectures with Clethos, and the clarity he felt when taking the Forbidden Fruit pills… all were forgotten in seconds much like the details to a dream that he'd just had the night before.
Johnny struggled to stay focused as he assessed the situation in the driveway and front yard, trying to make sense of the bizarre scene before him.
Then, he saw it.
His focus was now on the nondescript white van his father and the man in the labcoat were conversing beside. Rather, he'd thought it was nondescript.
In reality, the two men were standing beside a large black insignia on the side of the van: one inner circle was surrounded a larger, outer circle. A broom, mop, and vacuum cleaner were positioned around the inner circle, the head of each cleaning tool pointed inwards…
…and right before his vision went blurry again, he saw the name on the van: Sasha's Cleaning Products.
