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"Why did I invite you?"
Mob stumbles back into his house. He's nauseous, his head spinning, tears blurring his vision. He feels like he might fall to the floor at any moment. Twixxel is gone. He's dead, he's dead and Mob saw his blood, he's dead and it's all his fault.
"It's just us again."
Verity. Mob looks up, wide eyes finding that stupid yellow ball, perched on his crafting table. Smiling at him. He looks so fucking pleased with himself. Mob clicks off his flashlight with more force than is necessary.
"Isn't that better?"
Mob closes the door. He focuses on Verity, walking closer to him, anger making him shake. He stares with all the silent bitterness he can muster. Verity stares back. Smiling. Fuck this. Fuck this and fuck him. He's going to bed. He's going to bed, and when he wakes up he's leaving. He's leaving Verity once and for all, even if that thing comes back for him.
He lays down.
"Mob. Don't be like that."
Silence.
"Mob."
Sleep, damnit.
"…" Verity sighs. "Fine." There are a few moments of pure quiet, and it's terrifying. Mob doesn't want to be here. He just wants to sleep. Let him sleep, let him dream that this never happened, that Twixxel is still here. His only friend, his—
The door creaks open. Mob goes rigid, he doesn't dare open his eyes.
"Mob?" Twixxel.
Mob gasps, jolting up in bed, Twixxel—!? He's- he's standing there! Right in his house, slouching a little and crimson dripping down his head, but it's him, it's him, it's—
Twixxel smiles. Too wide. "There. Better, now?" Mob's blood runs cold.
"No…" No, no, no. That's not him. That's not Twixxel. Oh fuck, oh fuck. He's gonna throw up. No, no. "Verity- Verity, stop." His voice cracks. He's crying again, shuffling back in bed, pressing his back flesh against the headboard. "Stop."
"Come on, Mob. It's me! Your old buddy Twixxel." He walks slowly, shambling, crawling onto Verity's bed. Droplets of Twixxel's blood stain his sheets. "Relax. I'm here." He sounds like Twixxel, just like him. Talking as him, stealing his voice, his words, his body, his dead body. He pushes Mob's knees apart, scooting between them. He touches his face, his hand is freezing and waxy, sickening. "I…"
"Stop. Stop, please. Verity."
"I love you, Mob."
Verity kisses him, and he tastes like blood. Mob cries. He cries as the kisses trail down to his neck, he cries as Verity pulls him down and holds him close and cuddles him.
He cries until he falls asleep in Twixxel's cold, dead arms.