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A Suspicious Lack of Horses
Body: 27 - Trapped

Body: 27 - Trapped

Greg left the meeting with the Council, flying aimlessly as he considered his next move. First, he'd need to get Jennifer, Tina, and Sarah out of the safe zone. He wouldn't take down the walls to keep them safe, but he didn't want to see them hurt either. He'd need to get them somewhere safe before he did anything. While he was doing that, he needed to gather enough smoke to actually make the walls, which… should he head to the forest for that? Greg made a quick inventory of all his smoke. There were the small pieces he'd placed in a couple dozen ferals to track them, which were pointless now, so he began calling them back. There were the selves he was using to hunt down assholes, which… Well, now that he had a real plan to follow, it seemed unnecessarily violent to keep doing that. Greg paused as he felt a twinge of disappointment at that, frowning slightly. Was he really going to miss being able to go out and just murder people guilt free? His expression twisted even more as he realized the answer was yes.

Greg let out a sigh. He really had to deal with his mental issues at some point. He was actually more disappointed that he had to stop killing people than he was happy that the ferals would finally have a safe place to live! If he was being honest with himself, the ferals having a safe place to live was something he knew needed to be done, but… it didn't make him happy. Hell, it didn't even leave him satisfied! It was just… putting things back to the way they should be. What was there to be happy about? Plus, the safety of the ferals didn't benefit him at all. If anything, it was an inconvenience, because he'd have to work to keep them safe, and he'd lose access to the safe zone… Greg's eyes widened at that. He needed to remember to steal a lot of books before they escaped. Maybe dissolve a pool table too… Greg frowned, chastising himself. Why couldn't he bring himself to actually care about the ferals!

He paused. That was it, wasn't it? He didn't care about the ferals… he'd do what he could for them, because he knew he should, but… it was out of obligation, not out of anything that actually came from him. There was just something broken within him. He couldn't see people as people. They were just… objects. Or maybe it was better to describe them as NPCs. He knew they were people with their own lives and emotions and all that, they just… they didn't feel real to him. It was as if everything around him was ever so slightly fake, and his powers did not help with that mentality. There were a few exceptions, the most notable being Tessa, but otherwise… people were accessories to keep him entertained. If they were there, he was happy, but if they weren't… Well, he needed something to keep himself stimulated, obviously, but from the first eighteen years of his life, he knew it didn't need to be people.

Greg shook his head, sighing. None of that was important right now. Right now, he needed to gather smoke. He pulled back all his selves prowling the night, only leaving the Greg in the safe zone with the girls, the Greg keeping watch with the squad, a brainless Greg cuddling with Tessa, and this Greg flying towards the edge of town to find a nice place to wipe off the face of the Earth so he could make some big ass walls. "I'm an immortal death cloud, black and light~ watch me as I dis-solve half a fucking forest~" Greg hummed to himself as he flew, before letting out a weary sigh. "Damn I miss music." If his life was a video game, where was the epic soundtrack? He needed some damn tunes!

As Greg reached the edge of the city, he paused, landing and turning into his human form as he blinked and looked around. "The fuck happened here?!?" He muttered in disbelief. The trees… Well, they weren't trees anymore. Just like the people and animals, they'd mutated, turning into something else. The most normal of the bunch were the ones that were just masses of thorns, curling around in defensive barriers between the trees and their surroundings. Then there were the trees that glowed like radioactive beacons, the trees that seemed to be growing small people as fruits, the tree that was just kind of staring at him warily…

"Uh… hi?" Greg waved cautiously. The tree slowly blinked, before letting out a weird grunt and closing its eyes, going back to looking like a completely normal tree again. "Shit." Greg sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. If the forest was alive, he couldn't just turn it all the smoke! He could go for a mountain or something, but… that would be a much longer flight. "Ugh, it's always more wo-" Suddenly the world flashed and Greg found himself packed together with a giant crowd of people, along with his other selves, in a large, dark room. "Uh, what-" The world flashed again, and all of him were instantly obliterated into smoke!

Greg floated there, stunned for a moment as he processed what had just happened. He had been obliterated… everyone in the room had been obliterated! Before he could fully process the implications, the room was filled with more people and the world flashed again as Greg witnessed another mass killing. His smoke was bombarded by some kind of energy coming from all sides, compressing him into a point in the center of the room. It'd happened so fast the first time he hadn't even noticed it. *No… no, no, no, no!* Greg panicked. Half his smoke was still back by the forest for some reason, and it immediately began flying towards where the squad had camped, knowing what he would find, a dark pit growing inside him. Back inside the strange room, wave after wave of people were transported in and destroyed as Greg watched. *Please, please, please!* Greg pleaded internally as he reached the camp. *No!* He cried as he burst into the room, finding everyone gone! Suddenly the room around him disappeared as objects, buildings, cars, random slabs of stone and concrete began to appear in the strange room and get obliterated just like the people.

Greg frantically tried to figure out where he was, based on the distance between his two clouds of smoke, and… *Am I in freaking space?!?* The smoke in the room was hundreds of miles above the smoke in the city! As the… spaceship? Finished removing all signs of civilization, it began to move on to a new area, and a new wave of people appeared in the room with Greg, starting the process all over again. *Are- are aliens actually systematically wiping out humanity?!? Is that seriously what I'm witnessing right now!?!* Greg floated there stunned. Was- was Tessa dead?!? What about Victor? Casey? The rest of the squad? Had they died in the first wave? Why? How? Who would do this?!? Even he wouldn't do this! It was boring!

Greg attempted to get out of the room, flying towards the walls in between flashes, but there was some sort of barrier that prevented him from getting out. It was like when he fought the cheesegrater. That strange energy kept his smoke out, again! So instead Greg came from the other end, his smoke on Earth flying up to meet the smoke in space. Greg frowned internally as he got closer, not seeing anything despite the fact that he was getting closer and closer, until suddenly he slammed into some sort of barrier! It was more of that damn energy! He couldn't actually see anything, but as he spread his smoke out around the barrier, he felt small grooves and creases. He carefully felt around, following the lines on the surface in an attempt to find some way inside, knowing it was probably hopeless. If this truly was a spaceship, there wouldn't be any gaps for him to slip into. His only hope was that at some point they hadn't infused whatever material this was with this strange energy so he could actually slip through. He searched, and searched, over and over again, for hours, until the ship finished and began to leave. Desperately, Greg turned himself to steel, connecting himself to the surface as the ship suddenly shifted, blasting off into the void, leaving behind a world completely empty of human life.

*

Greg collapsed against the walls, feeling completely numb. The Earth had been destroyed… Well, no, humanity had been destroyed. Tessa had been killed! Tessa- Greg groaned, curling in on himself as he covered his face with his hands. She was gone! What was he going to do without her? What was he going to do, period!?! No matter what he tried, he couldn't get in or out of this damn ship! He couldn't even get out of this room! The room didn't have any doors or anything, just bare metal like walls imbued with whatever the energy was that kept him from moving through them. He'd tried breaking through the walls with his scorpocroc form, but his claws didn't even leave a mark. He'd tried shouting and making noise, but after half an hour with no reaction, he gave up. He was stuck here until the ship landed or something. So… what was he supposed to do? What was he going to do? Should he wipe out whoever did this? Destroy them like they'd destroyed his people?

Greg felt a surge of fury well up inside him. They'd taken Tessa from him! No matter what he did, he was going to make sure whoever was responsible paid for what they'd done, in the most brutal, tortuous way he knew how! However, a moment later, the fury drained out of him, replaced with emptiness. What was the point? It wouldn't bring her back. Nothing would bring her back. Even if he brutally murdered each and every alien or whatever had done this, it wouldn't change a thing. He paused. Well, it might make him feel better… he did enjoy guilt free brutal murder. His expression twisted as he let out a groan. What was wrong with him! He'd just lost everything that mattered to him! Why was he focusing on how much he'd enjoy killing people!

Greg sighed. "If I even can." He looked around the empty room helplessly. These aliens had already proven they could trap him and keep him out of their things. Maybe if he could actually reach them he could do something, but… His thoughts trailed off as he remembered the last time he'd encountered this energy. He'd barely been able to do anything to the cheesegrater. If he hadn't been able to take advantage of its ability… he'd have been helpless. If these aliens could use the energy well enough to imbue it into their walls, then it'd be pretty dumb to assume they couldn't use it as well as some random lunatic feral. "At least they can't kill me." Greg muttered. "I'll have all the time I need to figure out something."

Greg blinked. They couldn't kill him. He couldn't die! He was utterly immortal, with no other recourse. He would have to live for an eternity without ever seeing another human again. Without being able to see Tessa- Greg paused. He sent out a cloud of smoke, which quickly resolved itself into the form of Tessa. "I can see her!" Greg snorted bitterly.

"Do you think we could repopulate this way?" Tessa-Greg asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

They both shook their heads in unison. ""It's all smoke."" They sighed. Sure, they could probably make a baby, but it'd be a smoke baby, which would mean it'd probably just be another Greg. What would be the point in a race that was just him? Could he even have kids otherwise? The egg did most of the work, didn't it? If the sperm just provided some information for the egg to work off of… maybe? Not that he could actually test the theory any more… no more women, no more babies.

Greg waved his hand, making the Tessa form disappear, a feeling of emptiness creeping in. It was all pointless. He was alone. Eternally alone. And there was nothing he could do about it. Unless… Greg blinked. He could become an alien, couldn't he? He became ferals all the time! He could give up on humanity and forge a new life in a new world… Greg frowned. Maybe he could find different aliens… ones who hadn't wiped out his original species. "But first I need to get out of this damn room!" He cried in frustration. No matter what he did, he couldn't do anything until he was free! He probably should have at least left some smoke back on Earth, but at the moment he'd been more concerned with trying to stop whatever was happening than planning for his imprisonment, as pointless as it'd been. Now half of him was stuck in here, and the other half was stuck on the surface as the ship flew through space! He had no idea when the ship would arrive at its destination either. Given the vastness of space… he could be here for a while.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

*

Greg quickly learned that the room he was in was essentially a trash compactor. Periodically, piles of trash would simply appear in the room: food scraps, broken object's, bloody bandages… that last one clued him in on a particular aspect of his ability. Apparently, in order to turn into something, he needed to not only have its DNA, but also know what it looks like. Even after dissolving the bloody bandages, he could only turn into the blood, not the thing that had actually bled it.

The problem was that Greg couldn't actually visualize what he wanted to turn into. In order to turn into something, he needed two parts, the what and the how. The DNA provided the how, but without a way to visualize what he was turning into, Greg couldn't provide the what. If he could actually read the DNA, maybe he could get an idea of what he wanted to turn into, but that wasn't how his ability worked. Oh, he knew what it said, but he had no idea what it actually meant, so he couldn't figure out what it would look like. He also learned that the alien's blood was red, which… Well, he didn't know what he expected there. Why wouldn't it be? Movies liked to make aliens bleed all these different colors, but if red worked once, why wouldn't it work again?

Trash time soon became the most exciting part of Greg's day. Not that the trash came in at any regular interval, but Greg didn't have any other way to keep track of time. Whenever a pile appeared, Greg would sift through the pile looking for anything interesting before dissolving it all, slowly growing his smoke. He pieced together a few of the broken tools, using his smoke to fix them, but they seemed to work off some principle he wasn't aware of. They all had carvings on the surface, or even on the interior for some, but no wires or circuits. At first he thought maybe he'd been mistaken and they were actually art pieces or something, but he saw too many of the same thing over and over again. These things were being used and broken with an alarming frequency. Still, despite not actually being able to use the things, it vaguely entertained him to piece them together like a little puzzle, so he kept it up. He was desperate for any way to keep himself entertained.

For the first few… days? He thought it was days. He kept himself from doing anything too weird. Yes, he sorted through trash and fixed useless tools, but he wasn't having sex with himself, right? That changed. There wasn't anything else to actually do! He cursed himself for not dissolving a few books, or a pool table, or something. He had those little magnetic balls, but after a few days, they just didn't cut it. So… he gave in. At first it was pretty vanilla, just a Greg form and a Tessa form. Then it was two Greg forms and a Tessa form. Then he upped it to three Greg forms. Things got progressively worse from there, until even the tentacle man wasn't off limits! After a point, it wasn't even about the sex, it was just about doing something new. Greg spent what he assumed was a few months like that, devolving into degeneracy, until even that got boring. And then things got really weird.

"This trash is your trash~ This trash is my trash~ From the alien spaceship~ To this trash compactor~ I'm making a fort now~ Cause I'm so very bored now~ And it's made of traaash!" Greg sang an upbeat tune as he sorted the trash into piles. Certain pieces of trash needed to be crushed into dust before being mixed with the wet or soupy trash to make bricks or mortar. His first few experiments hadn't turned out all that well, but he had plenty of time to experiment and plenty of selves to do the experimenting, and eventually he managed to figure out how to make some decent construction materials. Of course, he could have just made bricks from smoke, or even made an entire fort, but that'd defeat the point.

Unfortunately, after a few weeks of work, Greg had gotten pretty efficient, and there was only so much trash that came in. Plus, the bricks needed time to dry, so Greg still ended up with a lot of down time. "I think I hate smoke." Greg muttered, laying on the floor, staring up at the empty ceiling, wondering if he should paint it or not. "Then again, if not for the smoke, I'd be dead. However, if not for the smoke, I'd be dead." Greg sighed, waffling between which scenario he'd prefer.

He raised a cloud of smoke in front of him, studying it with a slightly bitter expression. He was beginning to realize he didn't want to be smoke. Before, he'd complained about it, but that was just because he enjoyed complaining. He knew his smoke let him do some amazing things, and any trade off was worth it, but now? He was the last human. Alone. Lonely. And it'd never change, because all he was was smoke. He wasn't real. Not in any way that mattered. Rejection came over him as he stared at the smoke. He didn't want to be smoke any more! He wanted to be real! To be human! To die like he was fucking supposed to!

Suddenly, Greg's eyes widened as he felt something shift inside him. All the smoke making up his body set, like before he'd been water, but now he was ice. In his chest, his heart began to beat again, startling him as he'd barely even realized it hadn't been. Frantically, Greg called his smoke, sitting up and creating a knife. He carefully placed the blade against his wrist, pressing just hard enough to break the skin. Greg watched in fascination as a line of blood dripped from the wound. "I can be real."

*

After a bit of… experimenting with his new realness, Greg figured out that the 'realness' of his smoke was a bit of a misnomer. He could still sense things he made and he could still turn them back into smoke, though it felt more like he was dissolving it again, or going back to his original metaphor, thawing. Still, there was something different about it. When he made things out of smoke, without making them 'real', they were like an illusion. They felt the same, looked the same, tasted the same, but ultimately they were smoke. However, when he made something real, it turned into the actual thing he wanted to make! The difference was subtle and hard to explain, but it was there. Which meant…

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Tessa-Greg asked nervously.

"No, but what do we have to lose?" Greg replied with a shrug. "It might not work, but if it does…"

"Then we have hope again." Tessa-Greg nodded, a gleam in her eye. She nodded. "Okay… put a baby in me."

*

Greg hummed as he polished a glass, standing behind the bar. Various ferals sat around small tables scattered throughout the room, drinking, eating, talking, getting drunk, getting into fights. A human sized Tina stood on a small stage, singing and dancing to entertain the crowd, while the tentacle man played several instruments, providing a complex melody to accompany her performance. Finally, a pregnant Tessa wove through the tables, taking orders, delivering food and drinks, and joking with the customers.

"The usual." The scorpocroc growled as he took a seat at the bar.

"Another long day?" Greg asked, pouring the scorpocroc a mix of vodka and several alien alcohols that tasted like coke and sliding it over to him.

The scorpocroc snorted. "Do I ever have anything else? The Thompson boys are making trouble again, Clancy's store was robbed last night, and someone broke the statue of Sir Theodore Nacious!" He complained, his pincer gripping the glass, before downing the drink. "Ahhhh… that hits the spot." He sighed in satisfaction.

"Someone robbed Clancy?" Greg replied. "No wonder he didn't show up for lunch."

"I was going over everything with him all morning." The scorpocroc shook his head. "But I don't want to talk about work. How are things with you?"

Greg shrugged. "I can't complain. The biggest headache we have right now is preparing the house for the baby. Gotta build the crib, paint the room, all that jazz."

"When is Tessa due again?" The scorpocroc asked, turning to watch her as she worked. "Should be any day now, right?"

Greg chuckled. "The doctor said two weeks four weeks ago. And she still insists on working! If I was in her condition, you couldn't get me out of bed for anything."

"She's a scrapper, that's for sure." The scorpocroc shook his head, chuckling as well. "You're going to have to hire at least three new waitresses once she finally has the baby."

Greg sighed. "Don't I know it."

The two continued to chat like old friends as the night wore on, until the rest of the customers left and the scorpocroc finally had to leave, a bit wobbly on his feet as he made his way back home. Greg and Tessa began to close up the bar, cleaning the tables and putting up the chairs, while the cook did the dishes. Tessa was putting up a chair, when suddenly she let out a gasp, clutching at her belly.

Greg quickly rushed to her side. "What's wrong? Is it the baby? Is it coming?"

Tessa smirked at him, shaking her head. "It's just a cramp. I'm fine." She insisted, pulling him in for a quick kiss. "Come on, let's finish up and get home." She added, patting his cheek and getting back to work. The two quickly finished up, locking up the bar before walking a few streets over and entering a small house. Tessa carefully eased herself onto the couch with a long groan. "This kid better hurry up and come, or I'm going up there after it."

Greg chuckled, placing her feet in her lap and taking off her shoes, beginning to rub them as Tessa let out an appreciative moan. "She sure is taking her sweet time, isn't she?"

"She?" Tessa asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Greg shrugged. "Hopeful thinking."

Tessa snorted. "Well then, if he would hurry up, then maybe we wouldn't have to hope."

Greg nodded, before pausing. "You know… Mrs. Franklin mentioned that when her children were taking too long, if she had… relations, it- it helped things along." He offered awkwardly.

Tessa gave Greg a look. "Are you propositioning me?"

"My dear, I am always propositioning you." Greg wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"You're such a dork." Tessa giggled, tossing a throw pillow at him.

"So is that a yes?" Greg asked questioningly.

Tessa rolled her eyes, getting to her feet and heading back to their bedroom. Greg sighed, slightly disappointed. "If this works, we're giving Mrs. Franklin free meals for a week." Tessa suddenly announced, and Greg immediately jumped to his feet, rushing after her.

*

Greg cuddled with a frustrated, but satisfied Tessa after giving Mrs. Franklin's theory several vigorous tests. "Why won't he come?!?" Tessa cried in distress.

"She'll come." Greg assured her, rubbing her belly. "She just needs a bit more time bonding with her mommy."

"Why would you say that?!? Now I can't complain, or I'm saying I don't want to bond with my child!" Tessa complained, reaching back to smack him.

"Why wouldn't you want to bond with your own child?!?" Greg asked in mock horror.

"Stop it, you-" Tessa began, before freezing. Both of them suddenly turned to stare at the ceiling, astonished expressions appearing on their faces. "We've stopped!" The entire town announced in unison.

*

A small piece of steel turned to smoke, looking around. The first time Greg had done this, all he'd seen was empty space as the ship continued on, leaving the smoke behind. At first he'd been annoyed, but once he realized he could use the smoke to sense the position of the ship, he'd quickly gotten over it. Losing a small bit of smoke in exchange for knowing when he stopped was more than worth it. The first thing he noticed was that the ship was actually visible now, and he finally saw just how big it really was. It was practically a flying city! The next thing he noticed was that it wasn't alone. Several other giant, city ships sat in the sky above a large planet, descending slowly towards it, including the ship he was on. Finally Greg's long, tortuous imprisonment would be over! He could talk to people again! Not figments of his imagination that he pretended were people, but real, honest to god, unpredictable, people! Well, aliens, but he'd take what he could get at this point. He didn't even care that they'd destroyed his world anymore, as long as they'd talk to him!

Greg practically bounced in anticipation as the ship approached the ground, urging it to go faster! Each second felt like agony as the ship refused to move faster than a crawl, or at least, a crawl according to Greg, which was still actually pretty fast, getting them from space to the ground in just fifteen minutes. Just before it landed, Greg returned the rest of the steel to smoke, before sending half of it away. He wasn't going to make the mistake of getting trapped somewhere again. As the ship landed the surface opened like a flower, rising up to reveal a legit city underneath! The surface shifted and condensed to become thick walls surrounding the city as a large group of people gathered in a large central square around a raised platform. Greg didn't even hesitate as he bolted towards the platform turning into his human form as he hit the stage. He faced the crowd, spreading his arms in welcome, ready to announce his presence to these aliens and accept their love or hate, he didn't care which, when something interrupted him.

"Greg?!?" A voice cried in a mix of incredulity and excitement.

Greg's head snapped to see a flabbergasted looking Tessa staring at him from near the front of the crowd, his eyes widening. Was that him? That wasn't him. That wasn't him! "Tessa!"