Probably for the best honestly, Rio thought as he saw Piotr fall back. And then he saw a second cockroach-thing exit the bathroom cupboard, most likely having been woken up by Piotr’s panic. Then, he looked over the edge of the sink as he saw a third roach exit from below the kitchen sink cupboard—the one Piotr had been about to check. He was right! I owe him an apology for that. Rio felt the wound from his forehead, trying to stay still. He could guess that they attacked sound, but he felt it wasn’t that simple. He needed to know everything about these roach-things’ Civs, and he had no way of doing that without Wet Hands. And he had no way of using it without making noise unless he could somehow look in a pool of water. And he was currently sitting with his ass in the sink.

Which meant he would need to get out of the sink, plug it up, and pose his question to the basin without making a sound.

Blair was feeling at the wound on her cheek. She could see that there were three of those things now, and she heard something happen to Piotr, but she couldn’t see where he was from where she was standing, clutching her bleeding face. The hole that went from one cheek and through the other was the size of a large piercing. And one that wasn’t even close to healed. She could guess that they attacked sound based on when she got attacked and the fact that Rio wasn’t saying anything. She looked back at the doorway. If she wanted to kill that roach thing, she’d need to get inside without making noise. And Thomas’s apartment was CHEAP. She heard those doors squeak.

The other option Blair had was to direct its focus elsewhere. She had a lot of tools at her disposal to do just that but she’d have to set that up without making noise as well. And explosions tended to be quite loud, so they really needed to be on the money. Blair took off her leather motorcycle jacket and threw it down on the floor in front of her, sitting out in the main room. Ironically, Piotr’s Civ would have been perfect for drawing away the fire of these things. But she’d need to make do. Superhot, Blair thought as she touched her hand to the jacket, setting it ablaze. She knew how loud a good fire could get, but for now, it wasn’t drawing the roaches’ attention. She needed more fuel, and almost everything in Thomas’s apartment was metal, compared to Blair’s soft couches, which could have been used for fuel. And cats . . . but that would be a last resort. Oh no. I could never hurt my babies I take it back! Blair could use some of Thomas's clothes. He hadn’t come with many changes of clothes, so it was possible she had more in the closet. But that was with the roach.

Rio watched the fire Blair had made in confusion but decided to just let her do her thing while he did his. Rio slowly lifted his sopping-wet self out of the sink, and the second he did, the water hit the metal at full force and made a loud rushing noise, as even more water had gone down the drain when Rio stopped covering it. The general drone of the tap was relatively quiet, and it had stayed at a constant noise level since they woke up. But now it had gotten louder, and a bullet flew through the bottom of the metal basin, draining water from another location onto the cockroach. There goes that plan. Suddenly, Rio saw the wet cockroach silently panic and rush away, out of Thomas’s apartment door as it tried to dry itself off. That can’t be good, Rio thought, watching the thing flee to the outside world. He shot a look of nervousness at Blair—one that screamed “Yikes.” Perfectly silently, of course. The two needed to hurry up before that thing killed anyone.

Blair’s fire was beginning to die down. It was running out of fuel as her nice and expensive leather jacket began to melt away. Superhot, Blair thought, moving her hand towards the jacket again and restoring it. When she did that, the fire gained a new burst of fuel and shot up a little bit. And Blair realized she could reset the jacket and give the fire a little boost, but it didn’t seem to be enough. She needed a bit more fuel.

Superhot, Blair thought again. She liked to say the name of her Civ when she used it because it sounded cool, but now she couldn’t, so she had to settle for thinking it very loudly. Blair had run her finger across the door’s hinges, slowly and quietly melting them away. She had wished that Thomas had more things like vases in his apartment, as currently, it was extremely drab. But his decision to go with manual doors that she could open slowly and quietly might ultimately save her life, so she didn’t want to criticise the place too harshly. Blair slowly poked her head into Thomas’s room, and she got a better look at it now, including the many, many empty glass bottles of Chorus sitting under his bed. Bottles she could throw.

Piotr slowly opened his eyes, taking a second to let the world stop spinning. And then he wished it really would. A large, disgusting cockroach with human arms and legs was sitting on Piotr’s chest. Its antennae were feeling around the air above him as one of its hands rested on Piotr’s mouth, the only thing that stopped him from shrieking. He felt around his location for anything that might be used to kill this thing, his hand moving across the tiled floor for anything. Then, he saw one of his marbles which had fallen out of the sweater Edith Matria had knitted for him. It was a few feet away, having rolled just behind Thomas’ toilet. Except he couldn’t reach.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Rio needed to find a cup. He had kept the faucet running since he would need to turn it back on anyways, but he needed to find a cup since he couldn’t fill the sink. He was reaching up towards a cupboard above the rest of the kitchen area. Due to the fact that it had no handle, it was safe for Rio to assume it was automatic and would open when his hand got close. He needed to open the cupboard and move his hand out of the way fast enough for him to dodge the bullet that would probably be fired in response. Rio brought his hand up to the cupboard, quickly opening it as he pulled his hand back, with a bullet flying into the cupboard and shattering a glass mug. Then another bullet came from somewhere else and hit Rio in the hand. He felt it pass through. Rio looked down at the hole in his hand in shock. Two roaches. He’d forgotten. His eyes were starting to well up as he bit his lip, and a lump was forming in the back of his throat as he felt his hand burn and leak blood. I’m sorry I came here, Mom, Rio thought. And then the cupboard closed automatically. He had taken too long.

Blair had melted Thomas’s door off of its hinges, placing it over to the side as she quietly tiptoed in. She could see the floorboards as she slowly entered. And unfortunately, everything heard the floorboards too. A bullet flew out of the roach’s exoskeleton, which Blair saw was covered in small holes that protruded outwards. The barrels of guns. The bullet hit Blair in the foot, which sent her stumbling toward the bed as she lost her footing from the pain. Superhot, Blair thought, sending out a quiet jet of steam from her hand in order to push her to her right a bit, allowing her to regain balance. The roach didn’t seem to react. She might be able to just kill it now.

Blair raised her glowing hand high in the air, preparing to swipe it out of existence—melt it into a puddle. Of course, it might scream, though—or it might attack. But it didn’t seem to see her or even want to move. Whoever had made these things did a pretty shoddy job, but they were about to kill her, so who was she to criticise? Blair was prepared to swipe the thing’s head away. She knew roaches could survive without their head, but at least that might stop it from making any loud shrieks. Then, Blair heard the whirr of an automatic cupboard opening behind her in the other room, and a bullet flew into her chest.

Rio had successfully gotten two mugs without being injured. He needed to stay focused, despite how bad the pain in his hand was. A few seconds ago, the bullet that barely pierced his forehead was the worst pain he had ever felt, and now that felt like little more than a flick compared to his hand being donuted. Slowly, he filled one mug with water and looked inside. He had grabbed two because he needed to throw one in order to ask his question to Wet Hands. He needed to be quick, and he needed to throw it to a place where none of the bullets could pass through his friends. He lobbed it with his right hand, his left one filling the mug with water from the tap. He was sitting on the kitchen counter, and he had thrown it over to the dining room table. But as he did—and as the mug crashed and two bullets struck the table—his hand filled with a horrible, searing agony. And he didn’t ask his question.

Piotr needed to somehow inch his way over towards his marble with this . . . thing . . . on his chest. He reached out towards it, stretching and craning, but he was too far. He needed a stick . . . something—anything—he could use to pull it over towards him. Piotr looked at the roach’s antennae. Despite being literally underneath the roach, he wasn’t sure if it knew he was there. It might have just been moving randomly because if it did know he was there, it would presumably just kill him. It already had its fleshy human hand on his mouth. Could Piotr rip off one of its antennae to grab his marble? He didn’t know, but he knew he needed to do it quietly. Piotr reached his hand up, very slowly. His finger touched its crunchy appendage, and it moved, but the beast didn’t. He could do it if he was deliberate.

Piotr snatched hold of the thing’s antennae, and the creature began to squirm, not making any noise, as Piotr tore it off and quickly grabbed his marble, pulling it towards him with his gooey extension and clutching it in his hand. Move the Headstones. Piotr sent the marble through the underside of the creature’s face, and right up into the ceiling, leaving a hole in the roach’s ungodly head. How the tables have turned. Or should I say, how the headstones have moved? Get it? Man, I hate not being able to tell people this good stuff.

But the roach didn’t die. Instead, it simply squeaked before darting away, and as Piotr sat up a bit with the weight off its chest . . . the bullet caused by the squealing struck Piotr in the head, sending him back onto the ground. And it started to get harder to breathe.

Blair was lying on the ground against the wall of Thomas’s closet, clutching a hole in her chest that was slowly melting away. She had managed to cauterize the wound, but it felt like there was still something in here. Poison or something. Blair didn’t know. She grabbed one of Thomas’s shirts and decided to wait to kill the thing, slowly grabbing a few empty bottles. Blair safely exited the bedroom to light her fire and draw their bullets, only to discover that a bunch of water had spilt out from the hole in the sink and all over the floor. Making lighting any sort of fire impossible. Blair silently threw her arms up in the universal “What the fuck?” motion, gesturing at the pool of water. Rio actually seemed pleased by this.

That’s it! I can ask my question to the pool of water! And I still have this other mug, which I’m going to throw with my left hand, Rio thought. Rio quickly lobbed the mug and whispered “What’s its Civ?” as the mug shattered against the ground and drew the fire of the two roaches, one of which having moved just outside of the bathroom. Suddenly, an image of a piece of paper appeared in the water’s reflection.