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The wind brushed past him, pink hair lifting and flowing with it. Techno's eyes were wide as he stared at the grassy field around him. Where was he?
He scanned the field; tall, green grass swaying in the wind. The scent of summer was heavy, but nothing made sense. He was supposed to be in the Arctic, in his house huddled away from a storm that had been approaching. Why was he here?
Techno felt calm, but a sense of anxiety and displacement could be felt deep within him, suppressed as if forced to numbness. He walked forward, his hand grazing over the top of the grass, pricking and tingling his palm.
The wind brushed by once more, this time carrying a distant voice with it, like a whisper in a crowd. Techno turned towards the sound, hoping someone was there to give him answers; nothing was around him but the field.
Another voice swept past, but the voice was unintelligible. That was when Techno noticed a faint buzzing in his ears, slowly increasing in volume.
Once again a voice could be heard, turning his attention in the direction it came. This time, he could make out what the voices were saying.
Blood.
The voices took their chance while Techno had his attention on them. Hundreds of voices came forth, screaming and shouting, demanding blood and vengeance and war. Techno put his hands to his ears and dropped to his knees, curling in on himself. Their intensity was overwhelming, chanting and crying out, and Techno was unable to do anything to stop them.
Blood, the voices cried.
Blood.
Blood.
Blood.
Wake up.
Techno shot up in his bed. His head was buzzing, but the voices were chanting. He could feel the sweat dripping down his face and making his clothes stick to his skin.
He needed something — anything to help him calm the voices. His mind was a frantic mess.
Techno attempted to stand, but his strength failed him, and he fell into the wall for support. His breathing was erratic, and his head felt like it was splitting. The world was spinning as Techno tried to collect his thoughts.
All he had to do was get to Phil— Phil would be able to help him. Phil would make things okay again. Phil would make the voices stop.
Techno found the strength to move, taking slow, unsteady steps towards his ladder. If he could get to the bottom floor and out the door, he would be okay.
He slowly descended the ladder, his hands sweaty and slipping as he went. When he reached the floor, he dropped to the ground and curled in on himself, his head to his knees.
The voices continued to chant, filling his ears with screams and cries for blood. All Techno could do was heed to their demands. He was desperate to get them to stop- desperate enough to find something—anything—and draw blood. The voices did not care whose blood, be his own or another's. Anything to sate them.
From where he was on the floor, he began to reach for any object he could grab. His hands brushed something sharp, and with a shaky hand, he grabbed the item and pulled it towards himself. He lifted the object as high as he could, preparing to plunge it down into his leg- when something cold pushed itself against him.
Techno jumped, the item in his hand dropping and shattering against the floor. He could make out a large white figure standing next to him through hazy vision when he looked up. Steve.
Steve pushed his muzzle against Techno once more, sniffing the man and licking his face. Techno was stunned for a moment, not having expected someone—or something—to snap him out of this state. The voices seemed shocked too, as they quieted down for the minute before coming back as loud as they were before.
Wrapping his arms around the beast for comfort, Techno pressed himself into Steve, hiding his face within the soft fur. If he could focus on the bear, maybe he could get the voice’s attention on something other than blood. A distraction, for both him and the voices.
Steve made a huffing noise, settling into Techno's tight grip around him. He seemed to understand.
They sat there for a while, Techno running his hands through Steve’s white coat. The voices picked up again for a moment, causing Techno to grip onto Steve a little tighter before releasing. He was afraid to hurt the bear. He knew he lacked the strength to do any harm, but the fear was still there.
Techno’s breathing began to even out as the voices finally quieted down. The buzzing in his head persisted, but his vision began to clear. He turned to look up at Steve and huffed a silent thanks; even though the bear may not have understood it.
He looked to the window next, noticing the storm had arrived some time through the night. Despite the snow, the world outside seemed to have gotten brighter. Steve soon moved to lay down, allowing Techno to release the grip he had around his neck and lay against him.
Techno knew he should get up, either head over to Phil’s or get back in bed. But the warmth and comfort Steve gave had been enough to convince him to remain cuddled into the bear.
When Phil found him a while later, he would have a lot to explain. But for now, Steve was beginning to snore, and the sound of the heavy wind against the house was lulling Techno back to sleep.
The voices were content.