Chapter 3: BETWEEN A WELCOME MAT AND AN ATM
Milo awoke with a throbbing in his head like the steady kick of an EDM song. Copper and bile coated his tongue as he rose. A faint scent of apple lingered in his nose. He rubbed his temples, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. A guitar sat in the corner next to a small practice amp and a well-loved tablature book waiting on a music stand.
(My apartment…)
The rest of the little studio sat as it had when he left for work earlier: a television on a small coffee table covered the far wall. Off to the left of that stood his broom closest of a kitchen, and to his immediate left were the front door to his apartment and his bathroom. The only light source came from a streetlamp that slipped through the crack of his blinds.
He shifted his weight and swung his legs out so his feet touched the floor.
(What time is it?)
He fumbled in the dark for his phone, unable to find it on the nightstand. A shiver ran up his back, and he rubbed his shoulders.
(I didn't think it was supposed to be so cold tonight.)
"Hey."
His lower back tensed. He swallowed the dry lump in his throat. Visions of what had occurred started trickling into his conscious mind.
Something like spider legs walked up his back.
He sprung from the bed with a yelp. (Whatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehell!!!) As he dashed toward the light switch at the opposite of the room, he banged his knee on the coffee table supporting his television. Fiery pins ran up and down his leg.
A giggle bubbled up behind him from his bed.
"Who's there?!"
He smacked the light switch, and after a second that stretched on for hours, the lights flashed on.
"Hiya, sweetie~!"
Lucianna lay on her side, her already messy hair even more fluffed from having been sleeping. In Milo's bed. With him. Heat burned in his face as he pointed at her.
"You! That…everything…That wasn't just some nightmare?!"
"Hey, who you calling a nightmare?" She sat up, wearing a cat-like grin. "Pretty sure I'd count as any man's dream come true!"
"Only to a masochist!"
(This is bad. The store was on fire! The police are probably looking for me right now as we speak and—)
She cleared her throat, her grin growing even wider. "As much as I enjoy the view, darling, you should really think about covering up~"
He furrowed his brow and looked down. (Fffffffffffuuuuuu—)
With a squeak, he dashed toward the bathroom. Her laughter chased after him, her mockery not far behind: "You're so cute when you're embarrassed!"
He re-emerged wearing his favorite plaid robe, and Lucianna groaned.
"Awwwh, why'd you have to go and cover up?"
"Y-you're the one…never mind! How long have we been here? Why was I naked?"
"Oh? Don't remember? We spent the last hour making passionate love, darling~"
"T-there's no way! Absolutely not! Unless you drugged me or…"
Struggling through a fit of laughter, she waved her stump around. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! You're naked because of that lovely little transformation of yours." She pointed her stub at her right shoulder. "Remember? When you touched my shoulder, and became my arm? Yeah, your clothes kinda just fell off. We've only been here about an hour. You passed out right after we separated."
(Okay…the cops may not be hunting for me yet. Not like I did anything wrong, but…)
He glanced up at Luciana, who gave him a little wave.
(How am I supposed to explain any of this?)
He glared at her, and she squirmed a bit. "Geez, can't keep your eyes off me?"
(Can't you hear me? My thoughts?)
"Okay, now it's just creepy…" She shivered. "Are you one of those weird creeps who locks up innocent girls and tortures them?"
"Stop saying weird shit!" He ran his hand down his face. "I thought you could read my mind?"
"Oh, that! Yeah, I could! But, you know, you aren't my arm anymore. So, yeah, there's that." She cocked her head. "Though I can't quite put my stump on it, but I can kinda feel you. Like how you're absolutely embarrassed right now~"
He threw his hands up and started pacing. She sighed. "There's a saying that too much thinking can be bad for your health. And I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears."
"Oh, I'm sorry! Just trying to figure out how to deal with whatever all this is!"
"What? Don't have beautiful women walk into your life very often?"
He clenched his fists. "Is this really the time to be joking around? The cops are probably hunting me down right now."
She crossed her legs and shrugged. "I wouldn't count on that, darling~ When I snapped us out of the fire, I also made a copy of you."
His jaw dropped. "You…made of a copy of me?!"
She nodded. "Think of it like a mannequin, except more advanced. Not sentient at all, but when the local authorities stumble upon the remains, they'll find the dummy and think it's you, dummy!"
"That doesn't make any sense! How did you do all of that when you were barely scraping by against that…that spider thing?"
She tossed her hair and jumped to her feet. The seductive aroma of cinnamon and baked goods washed over Milo as she strode toward him. She stopped inches from him, her chest squishing against his. He shivered, and she looked down her nose at him.
"Lemme see it."
His mouth flopped open. "S-see what, exactly?!"
"You know what I mean."
His stomach rolled over, his heart lighter than helium. "B-but I hardly even know you and didn't you already get a good look and I mean I actually have a girlfriend but you knew that and I don't think—"
She rolled her eyes and lifted her stump, extending it toward his waist.
Milo jumped back, slamming his head against the wall. "Ouch!"
"Careful! What's the matter? Never felt the touch of a real woman?"
"I'd just rather you not touch it with that…that robot arm!"
She cocked a brow and sighed. "I want to see your wrist, dummy."
"Eh?"
"Your wrist. The right one, specifically."
(Oh. My. God.)
Averting his eyes, he lifted his right wrist. She bent to examine it, running the mechanical stump over the diamond protruding from his flesh. She stepped back and nodded.
"Yep! That's definitely one of my gems!"
"And what does that mean?"
"It means you're coming with me. Like it or not, I need you to access my full power." She spun on her heel and walked toward the window. Her eyes scanned the sky through the blinds.
Dried vomit stuck to the inside of his teeth. The throbbing in his head reminded him of that first punch she'd thrown. (No wonder it'd hurt so damn much…her fists were literally made of metal!)
"Coming with you where? I…I have a life here and I don't know if I want to go anywhere with you."
"Oh? What makes you think I'm giving you a choice?"
"What?"
She bowed her head. "You're the only link I have to finding Waylon. And I'll be letting down some very important people if I come back empty-handed." She turned, her mouth a flat line. She motioned toward the cramped studio apartment. "Is this really the way you'd like to live, darling?"
"Quit calling me that." He threw his face into his hands. "You came into my life and completely upended everything. You thought I was my father! You beat me within an inch of death, and now that I'm useful to you, you just want me to wag my tail like a good boy and behave?"
Her eyes fells, and she turned back to the window.
"Well?"
She leaned her broken left arm against the windowsill and heaved a sigh. "I was wrong. On so many levels." She straightened up and turned to him, their gazes clapping together like magnets. A wet sheen covered her eyes. "I…I was so angry. You look exactly like him. It's not your fault. I let my anger get the best of me." She took a step toward him, holding his gaze. "Darling…no, Milo. I'm…I'm sorry." She bowed her head. "I understand if you hate me, but I'm not lying when I say that. Right now, you're all I have. I need you."
She dropped to one knee, looking up at him. "Please, come with me."
"No."
A long stretch of silence passed between them.
"Um…"
"What?"
"Did you?"
"Go on?"
"I just thought you'd said no…"
"I did." He crossed his arms. "Just because you apologized doesn't mean I'm going to follow you wherever you want me to go. I don't trust you. I don't even know you." His eyes settled on the corner with his guitar and practice amp. "My life is small, but it's mine. And I…I don't need anyone to tell me otherwise.
"So…please leave. And never come back."
Her bottom lip trembled. "I…I guess that's fair." She stood, her head bowed. "I…I really messed up this time." She turned back to the window and chuckled. "But I can't force you to do anything.
"I am really sorry. I hope you have a good life."
She held her arm up to her head, and she spoke. "I'm ready. No, I'll tell you when I get back."
Her form emanated a white glow, and the hairs on Milo's arms rose at the hum of energy. Lucianna turned and gave Milo a sad smile.
"Ciao, Milo."
Milo blinked, and she was gone.
He looked down and noticed his right hand reaching for Lucianna's afterimage. He let it drop and breathed deep. Must and stale chips thickened the air.
"Guess I should buy some air fresheners. Apple would be nice."
The store's fire topped all local newsfeeds. It'd only been a few hours since it happened, but everybody clambered for an explanation. Sources say there was one injured, one missing, and one confirmed dead.
Milo Moody was only twenty-three years old.
His family couldn't be reached for comment.
Nearby cameras from the gas station across the street could make out the missing woman—whose identity is still a mystery—entering the store at around 3:00 A.M. At around 3:05 A.M., all available camera feeds went offline.
The news outlets suspected faulty wiring—the High-Mart had been due for a renovation six years ago. Others suspected foul play, like a jilted lover or a local terrorist group. High-Mart Inc. had made several people mad with their political stances in that past.
Milo turned off his television. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leaned back until his head rested against the cool brick wall.
(Everyone assumes I'm dead. I can't just appear out of the woodworks and be like, look at me! I'm alive! There'd be such a mess…)
He groaned.
(All because of that damned woman…)
He pictured her in his mind, and all he could see was that mischievous grin. How cute it was. How soft her breasts had been. The warmth and power when they were united was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He'd even trusted her…at least enough to get them through that fight.
(Whatever. Doesn't matter. If people think I'm dead, maybe I can move and start a new life with a new name.)
Except he had little money. He spent most of it eating out and going to concerts. He hunched over the edge of his bed.
(I'm sure it won't be hard to save up some money. I'm paid okay at…)
He blinked.
(Oh. Right. My job burned to the ground. I can't even go back even if I wanted to…)
(What the hell am I supposed to do now?)
A clicking sound reached his ears, and he sat up straight. It came from his left—his front door. Someone fumbling with the lock. He jumped and sprinted for his bathroom, flipping the light switch off before ducking into the shower to hide.
(Is it the cops?! No one has a key to my apartment…)
Hushed laughter bounced off the walls. He saw the silhouettes of two people enter, one much taller than the other. The shorter one wore its hair in braids that extended down to their waist. Their dainty laugh would usually give Milo joy, but coupled with the deeper, unknown voice belonging to the second intruder, Milo's stomach sank.
"This is kinda fucked, you know," the male voice said. "Can't believe you stole his spare key!"
"Yeah, and? Little boy would want me to have his things. Not that he has much, I bet. He spent all his money on me. Like a good little pig!"
Iris's voice, no doubt. But who was with her? They weren't in an open relationship…
"Wow babe, that's pretty hot! Hey, we should do it on his bed."
"You want to? It probably smells like him…"
"You always smelled like him when you came back from your playdates. It gets me so hard."
"You're so naughty~"
Milo clasped a hand over his mouth and bit into the flesh of his finger. His eyes stung as he heard the springs of his mattress groan beneath their combined weight. His head spun and his heart pounded in his chest.
(Why am I so upset? I was going to dump her. I knew she was no good for me and I was going to dump her just like…just like the others…)
"This place is a real dump! Will this bed even last three thrusts?"
"Hey, the guy wasn't rich, but he was easy. Kinda weird though…he wouldn't go farther than holding hands."
"Sounds like a loser to me."
"Enough about him."
The springs in his bed protested in a slow, solid rhythm.
His mind drifted to Lucianna, to her smile. Cinnamon and apples flooded his senses. Her breath still warmed his ear. Maybe it was superficial, but whatever bond they'd briefly shared was much deeper than whatever he'd had with Iris.
(She's gone now. This is my life. I just…I have to…I…)
(I want to die. Why did I ever think I deserved to be happy? To be loved? I'll only ever be a doormat and ATM for any girl willing to give me attention…)
("I'm sorry.")
Her words echoed in his head. When had been the last time he'd heard those words from any girl? Typically, he'd be the one apologizing for ordering the wrong food or getting shitty seats at a pop concert.
(I apologized to Iris a lot. She was so demanding, but she made me feel something…)
(But Lucianna…)
("I really messed up this time.")
("I hope you have a good life.")
("I need you.")
(Did she really mean that…?)
The walls trembled, and Milo gripped the edge of the tub. Stone and plaster showered down as an explosion ripped open Milo's bedroom.
"What the fuck?!" Iris's boyfriend screamed.
A high-pitched screech split the air.
"SUBJECTS: EARTHBOUND HUMANS. THREAT LEVEL: INSIGNIFCANT."
"The hell is—"
A blast rent the air, and the screeching turned into a banshee's wail. A pungent stench of burnt flesh slithered through the air. "Brad! No! Stop!"
Another laser fired off, and Iris's screams gurgled into silence.
Milo's throat burned as bile rose. His entire body trembled. Loud, mechanical whirring underscored heavy footsteps. Each one shook Milo's bathtub. A red light flooded the apartment and bled into the bathroom, washing everything in a bloody hue.
"MISSION OBJECTIVE: LOCATE TARGET LUCIANNA, THE PIRATE QUEEN, AND MILO MOODY, SON OF WAYLON MOODY."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
FoxeePixel
FoxeePixel Here we are! You am me! Chapter three!
I promise, the quality drops off from here. What little quality there is, anyway. Pretty sure you'd need a magnifying glass and tweezers to find it...
Fun fact: I was a HUGE fan of Tenchi Muyo! growing up. Ryoko Hakubi was my first anime crush! I'd get a tattoo of her, if I weren't so gosh-darned scared of needles. C'est la vie!
Anyway, thanks again for reading! Hope to see you in the next one!
Cheers!
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