Foregone (I)

“…I could swear it was around here…” she muttered, rummaging through her hoodie pockets over and over, the constant clank of her metallic claws starting to grind my nerves.

“Uhm… look, I don’t usually stick my nose in other people’s business, but I can’t help wondering how you even got dressed in the first place. I mean... no way those massive claws fit through the sleeves of that hoodie,” I said, watching her use the tips of her claws to fish a key out of one pocket.

“Oh, that… it’s simp-” she froze mid-sentence. “Wait, are you saying you PICTURED ME getting dressed!? Do you seriously have no filter when you talk or what!?” She got so flustered the key did a little dance between her claws and clattered onto the bed.
It looked like the key to some old door, nothing too weird at first glance, but when I picked it up, it felt light as a feather and heavy as a mountain all at once. I could sense that warped weight, but it didn’t register on my skin – like touching a numb finger.

“Alright, got it, I’ll zip it, chill,” i sighed, half-hearted, eyeing how insanely detailed the key was. “So what am I supposed to do with this? Go door-to-door like a locksmith on crack?”

Her claws snapped shut, gripping my hand tight – I couldn’t tell if it was because of my comment or if she was still pissed from before. “You always this much of a comedian?” but it was clear she got a kick out of squeezing my bones to the brink of snapping.

“I didn’t make it, so save your critiques,” she said, loosening her grip. “Though, yeah, it’s small, easy to lose, and kinda cliché.” She let my hand go. “But it’s not mine. I stole it from my brother, so if you ever meet him, bitch at him about it.”

“Your… brother… sure…”

“Yep! i’ve got, like, a thousand siblings, give or take, but Yog’s the only one who makes stuff like this,” she said, pointing at the key.

“…Yog…?”

“Yog-Sothoth,” she added, scratching her cheek with one claw.

That name was weird, but i could swear i’d heard it before. I felt like a detective in my own head, sifting through dusty memories, trying to place where it rang a bell. Probably from one of the many books i never finished.
“Yog-Sothoth… Yog-Sothoth… wait! Got it! Isn’t he part of the mythos written by Lovecr-” she lunged at me, clamping her claws over my mouth before i could finish, a frantic move that nearly suffocated me.

“Idiot! do you know what a copyright violation is!? We’re just getting started, and you almost tank the whole thing. Learn to shut up before I rip out your tongue and make you watch me eat it.”

I mulled over her words for a second. It felt… off. Was she talking to me or someone else? I leaned back, collapsing onto the bed, still holding the key but no longer studying it, just zoning out. “Rip out my tongue and eat it… weird way to say you wanna kiss me.”

“Enough.”

“Okay, I’ll try to rein it in.”

“I’m not joking!” she huffed, exasperated, raking her claws down the wall. The screech was like nails on a chalkboard, piercing my ears.

“I know, i’m just trying to make sense of this and lighten the mood. you gotta give me points for staying this calm, right?” I let out a small laugh – honest, again, which almost worried me – but my focus drifted back to the key. “Alright, so what do I do with this?”

“Ah! Uhm…” she seemed to strain way too hard to think, freezing up a few times like she was buffering. Honestly, I started to wonder if she was a bit dorky. “Just press it against your chest and turn it, like a normal key,” she said, mimicking the motion with her claws.

“Do I look like a goddamn lock to you?” I grumbled, but curiosity got the better of me. I pressed the key’s tip to my chest, and it slid through my skin like it was jello. A cold hit me – not your average winter chill, but like absolute zero. I wanted to say something, ask, comment, anything, but the sensation swallowed me whole.

I was a snowman, and the key was the carrot.

“Nice one! good boy, good boy… now… TURN IT!” She cheered, clapping like she was entertained by my suffering, the clang of her claws echoing louder.

I turned the key on instinct, and a rusty click rang out, like some ancient mechanism had jolted to life. Then came pain – indescribable, like my nerves were being sliced with a salt-crusted scalpel, my neurons tearing apart violently. My vision blurred, my breathing turned ragged, my face twisted in agony as the world around me flickered out.

“Hehe… no more jokes, huh?” She whispered, narrowing her eyes with a grin that stretched ear to ear. One of her claws grazed the side of my chest. “Just let go… catch you in a bit.”

There was nothing after that. no light, no tunnel. Movies lie about that stuff, you know? I just opened my eyes, disoriented at first, with a wave of nausea that faded fast when i saw the building in front of me. I’d left school behind ages ago, and while I didn’t have any fond memories of it, I could still picture its layout like a snapshot.

I stood there, frozen, watching students chat as they filed in, cars honking on the street behind. but something felt off, like a painting in shades of gray.
People call the past their golden years, but this looked more like lead than gold.

“Ha! Alive, in one piece, and even standing, partner!” She slapped my back, like we hadn’t seen each other in forever, nearly knocking my lungs out of place.

“What is this? aren’t time travel plots what writers lean on when they’re out of ideas? No, forget that, more importantly… why are you… dressed like a student?” I eyed her as she did a little twirl, showing off her uniform. It was normal enough, except for those claws – apparently, those weren’t negotiable.
“Oh and by the way, i’m Masato. You seriously weren’t gonna ask my name?”

“Thought i’d spruce up a bit. I’m into the retro vibe today – looks good, right?” She paused, maybe expecting me to chime in, but when I didn’t, she kept going, twirling a strand of hair between her claws. “I read your name on your medical chart, dumbass,” she said, glancing at the building in front of us. “Here’s a hint: something was here that later vanished. something’s here that needs to vanish…” she chuckled under her breath, covering her mouth with her claws and nodding toward the school.

I stared at the building with her, but the hint wasn’t exactly helpful. Students? Objects? A plot hole? I couldn’t shake the feeling she was being cryptic on purpose. I glanced at her for a split second, trying to read between the lines, but quickly shifted my eyes back to the school.

I’m not looking at you. No clue where my eyes might land, but it’ll probably be below your waist.”

She glanced down at her legs, the thigh-high stockings, and her skirt, which, for some reason, was stupidly short. She stammered, her face flushing red, and jabbed a claw into my stomach.

“I-i knew you’d say something about it, you stupid pig!” She pressed her claw lightly against me. “I’m seriously tempted to slice you open and strangle you with your own intestines! but… I guess i’ll let it slide this time. After all…” she shoved me forward, heading toward the school without waiting for me to catch up, “you probably won’t feel like cracking jokes for long once we’re done here.”

The stairs led us to the second-floor hallway. The students didn’t seem to notice me, but they couldn’t peel their eyes off her. She didn’t bother hiding her claws – they probably thought she was cosplaying or something.

“Idiots,” I muttered as they passed, gawking at her.

“Hehe… jealous over some teenagers, Ma-sa-to?” She teased, nudging me with her elbow.

“Nah, not at all. Why do you think I let you go up the stairs first?”

“What!?”

“Nothing, nothing… see? I can be cryptic too if I want.” I was starting to feel a bit at ease in this bizarre situation. Trading barbs with her was fun, even if she might skin me alive.

Class 2B. The sign on the classroom door hit me like a punch to the chin. My brain short-circuited, my breath caught, and I felt dizzy.
The things my mind had buried were clawing their way up from the dirt.

“Hey… what is this…? What are we doing here?” I looked at her, a chill sinking deep into my bones. I wanted her to say something absurd, to hit me with that weird tone of hers, but for the first time, her eyes were cold and dead, like i was invisible.

“April 24, 2010. What’s coming to mind now?” She said, barely glancing at me, her gaze fixed on the classroom through the window. Her voice was calm, sharp enough to slice the air itself.

“Death…” I whispered. My hand moved to the door on its own, but i grabbed my wrist to stop the trembling. was it fear or anxiety? she stopped me before i could open it, tapping the window lightly with her claws, almost rhythmic.

“Anna’s not here, and you know it…” she said, turning her eyes to me. “You might wanna try the roof… don’t you think? Or maybe she’s already at the point where you’d need a shovel to scrape her off the ground. But whatever, go find her… ‘hero.’” she tilted her head, flashing a smile that froze my skin.

Ever solve a rubik’s cube and feel that rush when all the colors line up? This was the opposite.

It didn’t take a genius to untangle her cryptic message. I remembered that time – now this time. Anna had jumped from the school roof one spring morning. The teachers never talked about it, just gave us three days of mourning because we were her classmates. My parents forced me to her funeral, practically dragging me away from an rpg i’d just bought. looking back, i guess i never really cared about anything alive.

“…hero, yeah, sure,” I muttered to myself. The stairs to the roof were a spiral, just like my brain circling its own pathetic drain.
I stood for a moment in front of the metal door to the roof. Part of me wondered what i’d do if I found anna. Another part pictured her silhouette falling – or worse, being too late.

I turned the handle, opening the door in hesitant bursts. The outside was blinding, my eyes still adjusting, while the screech of rusty hinges filled my ears. I wondered if I should just head back down, leave the school, and check myself into a psych ward.

“Three days of fake mourning and ten years of forgetting me… ‘friend.’”

Anna’s words, laced with laughter, hit me as she sat on the edge of a beam on the roof, eating her lunch.

It wasn’t her words that threw me off, though they should’ve. It was the fact that she was upside down on the beam.

You know, gravity’s the force that pulls objects with mass toward something bigger.
Guess nobody ever explained that to her.