In the middle of the night

Crank turns over on the nest of blankets he and Simone arranged on the living room floor. Expecting to find Simone close by his side, Crank is confused when his arm lands in something wet, and sticky. Wrenching his arm free of the sticky mess, Crank jolts upright and takes in his surroundings.

Simone is nowhere in sight. In fact, Crank is sure that he is no longer even in the old farmhouse. Crank climbs to his feet. All around him, is moist inky blackness. Dark organic matter oozes from the walls and ceiling--a particularly large splatter striking Crank's left shoulder. He wipes it away angrily.

Along the darkened corridor, various shapes are plastered inside the ooze like a living tapestry. The moans, wails, chitters, roars, and screams of the dying echoing like cannon blasts in Crank's head. A voice calls to him, and he whirls to see who has spoken. He can find no one.

Stepping closer to a cocooned figure, Crank chitters with anger and disbelief. Klinatoa, Crank's eldest brother, is held fast to the melting black ooze. Klinatoa's face is a bloody mess. One side of his face is caved in, where a black serpent's secondary mouth shot out and damaged his skull and eye socket. Crank goes to his brother. He cradles the uninjured side of Klinatoa's head.

"Brother?!" Crank whispers. "Was it you who spoke to me just now?!"

Klinatoa raises his head a little further, but is too injured to speak. He levels his one good eye at Crank, and manages a weak smile.

"Brother..I will get you out of here," Crank says confidently. He rips at the secretions holding Klinatoa in place with his clawed hands.

"It is too late, Crank!" A loud voice proclaims behind him.

Spinning to confront the bold speaker, Crank ejects his wrist blades. Almost immediately, his arm drops back down at his side and he shakes his head vehemently.

"No...No. This cannot be!" Crank utters weakly.

Before Crank stands the largest black serpent possibly in all of recorded history. The serpent whips its tail back and forth; challenging Crank to make a move. The creature's face, Simone's face, glowers at him from many meters above.

"You cannot save him," the Simone serpent says. "He is mine! Already there is new life growing within him. Join us. Join me. You know you want to."

Crank raises his wrist blades and his shoulder cannon angles.

"I am a yautja warrior! You will pay for what you have done to my brother...And to Simone!" Crank roars.

The black serpent throws back its enormous head and laughs. Once the creature has had its share of laughter, it returns its bulbous head to a level position. Fast as a bolt of lightning; a secondary head--similar to the enlarged Simone head-- shoots out from the larger mouth.

Crank jolts fully awake a moment before the smaller head strikes him. Simone sits up on the nest of blankets. She vigorously rubs a hand up and down Crank's upper arm. Comforting him.

"Crank! It's alright! You had a dream. That's all. Only a dream. I'm right here!" Simone says. She leans against him so that her forehead rests against his disguised cheek. "I'm right here!"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It is then that Crank remembers calling out to her. A spilt second before the nightmare serpent head nearly tore him in two. Simone wraps her arms around Crank's shoulders and hugs him with all of her strength. She peers up into his golden-brown eyes with a hopeful smile.

"I'm here, Crank!" Simone says. "I'm not going anywhere."

Crank returns her hug, crushing her to him. He doesn't have the heart to tell her the true nature of his nightmare.

-

-

Simone is already up and about when Crank finally finds the energy to get up. All night, his sleep has been filled with eerie images and scenes of unspeakable evil. The mental strain has left him drained and somewhat irritable. He climbs to his feet and seeks out Simone.

He picks up the sound of movement in the kitchen and makes that his destination. A sweet aroma tickles Crank's olfactory senses and he stealthily peeks around the kitchen doorframe.

Simone stands before a large stone pit set into the wall. An oven, oomans call it? There is a metal pot, with steam seeping from a thin spout, hanging on a metal rod over several flaming logs. It is the sweet aroma, of whatever is inside that metal pot, which caught Crank's attention. The aroma is like ginikta berries--fragrant and intoxicating. If it is anything like a ginikta berry, he will do well to avoid it. They have frolicked and slept enough for one day.

Crank's arm snakes around Simone's middle and she jumps with surprise. She laughs uncomfortably before gently patting his forearm.

"Hello, Simone." Crank says. A twinkle of mischief dances in his eyes.

"Hello, yourself!" Simone says in mock anger. "Next time, give me some warning! Crank, you scared me!"

"I apologize," Crank replies. "That was not my intention."

"I know that," Simone says. "I'm kidding. But you did scare me a little."

She squeezes two fingers together to show just how much she was afraid--leaving very little space between them.

"Just a little." Simone says with a tiny chuckle.

She turns in Crank's arms, so that they are facing one another.

"So what are your plans today?" Simone inquires. She runs a hand through Crank's beaded hair, while covertly examining his disguise for damage.

"I think, I will do some scouting. While the weather is not so bad, " Crank explains. "I can try to get some idea of the layout of the area. It may help us in the future."

Simone toys with one of Crank's braids, twirling it around one finger. The texture of Crank's hair is still unfamiliar to her. Spongy, yet firm. Almost oily in appearance, yet with no residue left on her fingers. It is as if each braid is one long thick hair. That's probably exactly what they are. Scientific observations aside, Simone stands on tiptoe to kiss the human nose adhered to Crank's face.

He finds this particular ritual of hers to be rather interesting. She has performed it more than once during their time together. He halfway closes his eyes in order to study her. When she drops back down flat on her feet, Crank rubs the tip of the artificial nose in fascination.

"Why do you do that?" Crank asks.

"Do what?" Simone responds.

"Kiss me in the middle of my face? Is this another type of ooman courtship ritual?" Crank inquires. "I do not believe I have ever observed other oomans doing it quite that way."

Simone stifles a laugh and flicks one of Crank's braids playfully. She lowers her voice suggestively.

"You haven't been around enough...Oomans!" Simone teases. "My mother kissed my nose all the time. Now, I do it to my daughters. Only April likes it though. My uncle...He was obsessive about noses. He'd even kiss his goats on the nose. Strange guy...My uncle. But he gave me so many good memories. Especially, after my par--,"

Simone blinks rapidly and hurriedly changes the subject. She continues to toy with Crank's hair, enjoying both his closeness and his masculine scent.

"Anyway. It's good that we both have found something to keep us busy," she exclaims. "You can do your scouting...And I'll explore the house. There's bound to be some interesting things in here somewhere. This place looks like it holds a lot of history."

Crank leans in and kisses the tip of Simone's nose. He watches as color floods her cheeks and her eyes moisten. He stores everything away, in the back of his mind, for future reference. Simone's lips part, as if to speak, but Crank quickly presses the lips of his disguise to her mouth.

A loud whistle issues from the steaming metal pot on the fire. Steam now pours from the top and spout in steady streams. Crank's eyes narrow and he glances at Simone with concern.

"Should it be doing that?!" Crank wonders.

"Yes," Simone says. "It means, the coffee's ready!"