Dawn Chorus (Proxies x Reader)

Dawn Chorus

"Come on, Camilla," I huff out, "just a bit further. We can make it."

MY mouth is dry and sour with the lie. My voice crackles and aches to use. I have no serious injury, but Camilla is scrapped up, has a distinct limp I stupidly missed until now, and her back is wet and a little tacky. Now the coughing, the pain she must be feeling in her head by how she is gripping it and squinting so harshly. I need to suck it up. I need to pull her out. Her coughs grow more ragged, her breaths struggling to find space between. She groans in pain and suddenly hunches sharply into herself nearly dragging us to a stop.

We've passed the space of the run, and my sudden hesitance to move, the weight pressing down on me suggests I am about to learn why Camilla defined the boarders she did. Whatever it is it's dragging down Camilla. She shifts her hand from her scalp to her face. It doesn't look quite red in this light, the blood spilling from her nose. I'm so busy watching Camilla, that I'm not looking ahead.

"(Y/n)!" She screams with terror, jerking my attention back forward.

It stands in a clearing. Spine straight as a board. The flat white of its head pointing perfectly forward. We are barreling towards it, and I'm not sure if I can stop or turn us before we get in reach of its long arms. He is tall as the few young trees around him, and then he is shorter, and then he is taller. Undecided on a specific height. From afar it looks like it is wearing a suit, perfectly tailored to its shifting, misproportioned frame. The closer we get, the more obvious it becomes that the 'suit' is actually the creature's skin. A mimicry of human attire. Like those firefly eaters that flash like the bugs to draw them in and feast. But who would buy this thing for human, even from afar. Too pale, too changing. Its skin looks like that of a shark, the fleshy projections of the fake suit's collar like fins.

Camilla is whining in pain now, gripping her head tighter, forgetting the stream of blood rushing from her nose. She is sobbing softly, huffing between the sobs with rage. Shaking her head to loosen the tears and biting her lip to muffle her sounds of discomfort. There is a fire blazing in her dark eyes. I yank her harshly to the side, rolling my ankle. There is a weird pop maybe even a small crack and pressure jolts up my leg. But I can't feel any pain from it. A heaviness distinct from that of uncertainty and that's it.

The world ends when we turn. It takes me several blinks to realize its a drop, a steep hill covered in scraggily bushes and gnarled trees. The dirt is beige and hard packed, loose as sand in places but thin as dust. It's a long drop to a small pond and the exit to the forest.

The moon is so bright tonight. This drop is highlighted a glittering silver. There must be mica in the soil. We've gone farther than I thought. The run must have bumped up against two sides of the forest, here opening up to a shallow valley park. I can see the ink of the parking lot beyond the open fields, and an ever-distant flash of blues and reds, some yellows. Not close enough to hear yet. Sadie got out. Sadie had to have gotten out. And this is Camilla's exit. She is stomping her feet in the ground, snapping for my attention, but I can hardly hear over the rush of blood in my ears, the ideas blooming in my head.

I skid to a stop, kicking up dirt as we break into the bright light. I set her down gently, glancing over my shoulder. That weird creature, even taller now, is facing our way, still oriented in that stiff, toy-like posture. It's closer, not much, but still closer. I have nothing but the certainty in my gut top base that off of. I shove Camilla to the edge of the drop. She grisp my wrist sharply, her hands wet and hot with the blood from her nose.

"What are you doing?" She hisses.

Her eyes are glossy. I meet her gaze. She won't let me go back alone, not like Sadie. I try to smile reassuringly.

"We are sliding," I tell her. "It's the fastest way down. Then we can run out around the pond."

She studies my face for a second. Camilla is smart enough not to look over her shoulder, though I can see the way the muscles in her neck twitch with the effort to keep her eyes on me or ahead. She looks back down at the valley.