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The last hour of his life had been hell. There was no other word for it. Had it even been an hour? Rudo couldn’t tell. Everything had fallen apart so fast.
Regto had been murdered. Rudo was still covered in his blood. He’d been blamed and tossed away- (send the filth to the pit, they chanted) -from a ‘home’ that’d always hated him. Rather than succumbing to his own execution, however, Rudo landed in a nightmarish landscape of discarded things, toxic air, and inorganic beasts - one he was barely surviving in now.
The land itself was out to get him. Every intake of air burned his lungs. Rudo could taste copper at the back of his throat.
All that kept him moving was sheer hatred. Rudo had to survive. Everyone up there in the sky, city and tribes folk alike, needed to die for their injustices against him. Against Regto. Rudo refused to be ripped from this mortal coil before their blood had been spilled.
If only these damn things would stay down; Rudo thought to himself while beating an inhuman skull in with a lead pipe.
No matter how many times they came at him, splintering into loose rubbish at his blows, the beasts would simply recollect themselves before charging again. The assault was seemingly endless.
Rudo was split between running and fending the beasts off when he had to. His rage could only carry him so far. He could feel his body losing strength moment by moment. His lungs ached in his chest and his vision blurred anytime he moved too fast - which was, sadly, a necessity in these dire circumstances.
There had to be somewhere safe-ish to hide out. Rudo refused to accept the possibility that this toxic landfill extended across the entire ground; leaving no hope for even those who somehow survived the fall. He had to escape from here. He had to survive. He had to get his revenge.
The makeshift weapon in his hands snapped in two. It served its purpose in delivering the not quite killing blow though. The beast collapsed. Rudo, who climbed onto its back previously, dove off. He was sprinting the second his feet made contact with the ground.
There was barely any time in between regenerations, but maybe he could put some distance between them now-
A sudden coughing fit had him stumbling.
Rudo tried to keep moving even as he hacked up blood and bile. It was pointless. His legs weren’t working with him. He swayed with every clumsy step. Rudo’s breathing sounded wet by the time he was finished coughing, and his sinuses stung with something sharp and chemical. All the while the beast reformed at his back; taking advantage of his moment of weakness.
Shit. This was really bad. Rudo didn’t have much time left.
The ground was ripped out from underneath him, becoming part of the creature hunting Rudo. And, for the second time today, he fell. Right down a nearby crater in the dumpsite.
This landing wasn’t as clean.
Rudo’s vision whited out with pain as he hit the ground. His ears rang so terribly he couldn’t hear himself think. He was without senses for a handful of seconds. Pain remained, hot and fierce in his gut, even as everything else trickled back to him.
Weakly, he looked down. Rudo recoiled at what he saw.
There was a piece of rebar speared right through his stomach, grazing his bottom ribs. He’d fallen right onto it. Now it pinned him in place like a butterfly on display.
Moving at a snail’s pace, Rudo grabbed the metal. He gave it a lame tug, then cringed at the shooting agony moving the rebar caused. There was absolutely no give. He couldn’t get up.
“You’re k-kidding me...” Rudo croaked, choking on both the sentence and more blood.
The reformed beast stared at him. Its eyeless gaze bore into his soul. Then, seemingly aware that its prey was already done for, lost interest and returned to a lifeless mound of trash. Its body disturbed the landscape further. Rudo felt rebar scrape against his ribs from the mini earthquake. He cried breathlessly.
With absolute certainty, he realized that he was going to die at that moment. Either he bled out or the poisonous air would claim him first. Probably a combination of the two. There was no hope.
In the face of his imminent demise, Rudo didn’t react with fear or despair. No. He was too pissed off for any other emotion.
He threw his head back and screamed. Or at least he tried to. The most he managed was a wheeze. It felt like someone grabbed him by the ribcage and tugged just in order to get that frail death rattle out. Rudo’s body was too weak to contain his fury.
No. FUCK no. It couldn’t end like this! Everyone needed to PAY, damn it!!
Rudo grit bloodied teeth. He reached a hand out towards the cloudy sky; fingers curling as if trying to grab onto the island above. Never before had he been this furious. The emotion was fierce enough to seem physical - pulsing from deep within his core. Growing stronger even as his heartbeat weakened.
Rage was bubbling over. Red tinted his spotty vision. Something unexplainable was happening to him. It felt like his anger was going somewhere else. Outgrowing the doomed body it spawned from.
Out of the corner of his eye; Rudo saw a figure begin to take shape out of the trash. He lacked the energy to even turn his head. From a thousand miles away, he felt his hand drop. The metal ring on his glove clanged against tin like a poor man’s death knell.
Was he screaming? It felt like he was, and he thought he heard screaming, but his mouth wasn’t moving. Nothing was moving. Not even his heart. Rudo couldn’t see or hear anything anymore. All that lingered was anger; acting as an anchor to what limited consciousness he had left.
He couldn’t… die here… not yet… Rudo… Rudo had to…
Wrath bloomed as life left his eyes.
...
H̶͎̕Ȇ̴̖̺̓ ̸̖͗H̶̡̎͋A̴̙͂D̴̖̱̃ ̷͓͒T̶̄͜O̸̚͜ ̵̙̩́Ḳ̶̢̓Í̷̖͚L̸̲͓͂̌L̷̢͝ ̵͈̝̈́͗T̵͎͔́H̶̦̄E̴͚̰͠M̴̺̆̾ ̵͎͙̍͑Ã̵͇̲L̴̳̑͌L̴͇̝͊.̵͔̰̆
—
The beast woke up angry.
That’s all it was. An angry, empty shell. It didn’t know its own name, or even what a name was, but it knew anger. Purposeful, all-consuming anger.
Its first action as a new being was to throw its head back and howl with the emotion. It needed to go up. It barely understood what ‘up’ was, but it needed to go there. How. How. It didn’t know. The sky taunted it from above; utterly unreachable.
Continuing to scream, it pounded its fists against the ground. Over and over again. How could it get up there? It needed to go back and kill them all- KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM-
An unknown amount of time passed. The beast was stuck in a loop of that one thought. It clawed and punched and shrieked uselessly - a living ball of fury which couldn’t conceive of anything other than violence, even when it was without a target.
What broke it from that cycle was a burst of pain which radiated up its arms. The beast hissed. This was a new sensation. One that didn’t seem right. It wasn’t supposed to be in pain. It wasn’t supposed to feel at all.
That abrupt anomaly shocked it into a more passive state. The beast curled up, clutching two limbs to its scrap-metal chest. What was wrong with it? Bad. Bad. Get rid of the bad pieces.
It tore its forearms off, one after the other; first by hand, then with teeth. Nearby tin cans combined with a broken floor lamp to warp into replacements. The beast inspected them. No pain. Good. No pain.
Just when it was about to return to its tantrum; pain struck again. Right before the beast’s eyes, its new limbs rotted - taking on a char black color as strange lines burned into the material. It roared its confusion.
The beast went to try again. In doing so, it noticed there was something here which didn’t belong.
It looked over. The beast experienced another emotion. Curiosity. This thing was not foil and rubble like the beast was. It was soft. And it was cold.
The beast forgot about its stinging limbs. Its head tilted to the side. After a moment; it poked the soft, cold thing.
No reaction. That stillness felt wrong. It looked more. There were two smaller things on the soft, cold thing that stood out. Colored darker than the rest of the pale shades.
The beast was… drawn to them. Led by the aching in its hands.
It grabbed one. The smaller, darker thing slid off of the soft, cold thing. That was odd. Experimentally, it took the other one. That came off too. The beast inspected them; turning them over while rumbling and clicking to itself. It wanted to do something with the things. What. What. It didn’t know.
Compelled by an urge it couldn’t understand, the beast tugged the things- (gloves) -on.
...
Rudo woke up staring at his own corpse.
There was a pause. Then he threw himself backwards with a shriek that sounded like metal tearing itself apart. Rudo flinched. That wasn’t what he meant to say at all. He’d tried to scream, ‘WHAT THE FUCK!?’
Shocked, his hand slapped to cover his mouth. Except, even through his gloves’ thick fabric, Rudo could tell that he didn’t have a mouth. A second hand joined its counterpart in exploring his face. There was practically nothing to be found.
No mouth, no nose. There were protruding, sharp-edged ridges which lead to empty sockets where his eyes should be; but that was the extent of it. Most of his features were gone. It was as if he were wearing a mask. One which, while smooth, curved outwards like an animal’s face.
Apprehensively, Rudo looked down at himself. A body that only bordered on humanoid awaited his gaze; with strangely jointed legs which ended in talon feet and a long tail. Most of all though, everything was entirely made from trash. Just like the beast that… killed him…
Holy shit. He was dead.
Rudo didn’t have to look back at his corpse to confirm it. He did anyway. If he had a stomach- (he didn’t have a stomach he didn’t have ANY FUCKING ORGANS) -it definitely would’ve lurched at the sight.
In dismay; he skittered backwards an extra few meters before curling into a ball and fisting his hair. Wait, he had hair?
In trying to get a look at it, he accidentally tore a strand off. There was no resistance. Rudo understood why when he held it up to his face. What he pulled from his head was a piece of shredded newspaper. A mere facsimile of hair. Of course he couldn’t even keep something as simple as that. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.
Rudo crackled brokenly. He couldn’t tell if the sound was meant to be laughter or a sob.
He speedran the stages of grief twice-over. First in denial that this was real, then furious that it was, before wishing it wasn’t so to the point of despair. Eventually, he settled on confusion.
What happened to him? The dying part was horrifying, but it at least made sense. Why was he this!?
The question haunted him. Distant, dream-like memories ghosted at the back of his mind. How he acted before putting his gloves on. Feral and mindless. The only semblance of Rudo being its rage. Thinking back on it frightened him.
There was no time to finish processing this nightmarish situation. Not when a sudden voice cut through the silence:
“Ah shit.”
That was barely a whisper. Rudo heard it nonetheless, his hearing unnaturally sharp. He stiffened.
Slowly, he looked over to the source. Standing there on a hill of garbage was a masked man, holding a shoddy umbrella of all things.
The man trotted down the mound. Right towards Rudo’s body. Apparently, he didn’t notice the living version huddled off to the side - camouflaged amongst trash.
“Since when are they throwing kids out too? That’s just sick.”
He kneeled to inspect the corpse. Something in Rudo snapped. He might not know who this guy was, but there was no way in hell he was letting anyone touch his body.
Face peeling back to reveal a mouth full of needles and glass shards; Rudo lunged out from his hiding spot, snarling like a beast.
The man had good reflexes. There was a bright flash of light as that umbrella took on a deadlier looking form. Rudo didn’t have the mind to care about that oddity.
As the man prepared to slash, Rudo dove to the side - ignoring him to instead cover his body protectively. Spines along his back extended and quivered. His tail unraveled into a lashing mess of wires. All the while Rudo continued to growl. He felt like an animal puffing its fur up to appear more intimidating. The fact he was posturing on all fours didn’t help the comparison.
The man paused.
“What the hell?”
Despite the man’s face being hidden by a mask, Rudo could track where he was looking. At him, then his body, then back to him again - analyzing every detail between the two. Even in this more monstrous form, the similarities were undeniable.
“What the hell.” The man muttered again, this time with more emotion. He readied his umbrella with newfound outrage, “I’ve seen some messed up trash beasts before, but copying dead kids is a new low.”
That comment struck uncomfortably close to home; spawning new fears in an instant. Rudo wasn’t- he wasn’t a copy. He couldn’t be. Rudo might not know what was happening, or why he stuck around as a sentient cluster of trash, but he was still him… right?
Rather than falling down that existential rabbit hole, however, Rudo chose to flip the man off.
The man choked. It took a moment for him to recover from the bizarre display. Speaking more at Rudo rather than to him, the man huffed, “Woah, didn’t realize we were making them rude now.”
Shifting onto his haunches to throw up his second middle finger - Rudo glared the best he could without working eyelids. The act was purposeful enough to cause the man real pause.
This behavior wasn’t a simple coincidence that happened to line up with a human action. The trash beast was flipping him off with complete awareness of what it was doing. As well as what it meant.
“Hold on. No way.” The man gasped, realization dawning on him in real time, before asking incredulously, “Can you understand me?”
Rudo nodded sharply.
Stupefied, the man lowered his umbrella for a second; but then thought better of it and pointed the sharp end back at Rudo. Intelligence didn’t mean this thing wasn’t a threat. Still, he attempted to communicate.
“So you gonna attack me or…?”
There was a pause as Rudo considered the question. Then he carved a line in the ground with a talon, separating the two of them, and firmly pointed at it. The message went without saying. Don’t overstep and he wouldn’t.
The man’s posture lost its edge. That umbrella returned to its previous form and dropped to its user’s side. He muttered, “Huh. Weird ass day I’m having.”
‘How do you think I feel?’ Rudo wished he could spit back.
Realizing that he was no longer in immediate danger; Rudo calmed down. Teeth were sealed away by his face returning to its rightful place. His tail braided back into a loose, whip-like shape. Spines retracted to half a finger's length each.
It all felt so alien that Rudo didn’t want to dwell on it. So, instead, he focused his attention onto his corpse. That was a mistake.
The sight of the rebar’s reddened end caused phantom pain to stab his midriff. Rudo acted on auto-pilot. He snapped it at the base with inhuman ease. Then, despising the sensation of how his body slid off the remaining metal, he picked himself up. His sense of touch was different now. Rudo could tell that he was cold nonetheless.
This was Rudo’s first time properly inspecting himself. Up-close and personal. When he looked down, his gaze was matched by red pupils that’d be identical to his if they weren’t so dull.
His body’s eyes were half open. Blankly staring back at the ghost of himself.
Strangely, that’s what broke Rudo. It was such an inconsequential detail… but it made this situation all the more real.
He was dead. Like actually, genuinely dead. And no one was going to mourn him because Regto was dead too. Rudo still bore the marks of his murder.
How much of the blood soaked into those dirty clothes was his, and how much was his father’s? It was impossible to tell. They might not have shared blood in life, but they did now. In some sick and twisted sense.
Rudo had a thought then. He wanted his dad.
Realizing that shattered his composure.
Despite looking like a monster… at that moment, Rudo suddenly felt like a small child. This wasn’t fair. He was angry about that before, and he’d be angry about it later, but for now? He just- he wanted his dad.
Logically, he knew Regto wouldn’t be able to fix this situation at all. But Rudo’s inner child, who held the man on an impossibly high pedestal and believed a hug from Regto would make everything okay, thought differently.
Only half aware of what he was doing, he hugged his body close. It was a poor substitute.
Rudo didn’t have the energy to wail. He just warbled, weak and pitifully, while clinging to a life that was forever lost to him; mentally caught in a loop of ‘this wasn’t fair, damn it, this wasn’t fair.’
The man was dumbstruck by his grief. This behavior was so unlike a regular trash beast’s. Coupled with the odd, human-like appearance which mirrored the dead boy… the pieces finally connected.
“Wait, is that you?” He whispered with horror.
Rudo flinched. He nearly forgot about the onlooker. After a second, he gathered his wits enough to nod sadly.
“How??”
All he could do was shrug. If the person who actually lived down here didn’t know, then how the fuck was Rudo supposed to have a clue?
The man took a step forward. Rudo’s face split open to hiss at him; twisting to hide his body from the other’s view. He hated the thought of anyone seeing him like this. It was too morbid to even consider.
Taking the warning for what it was, the man retracted his step.
“I’m not gonna touch it, alright? Chill out.” He raised his palms appeasingly, before glancing around, “We should really talk about this elsewhere.”
Rudo didn’t appreciate his body being called an ‘it’... but the man had a point. He died here for a reason. The last thing he wanted was for someone else to suffer the same fate just because they were dawdling. So, face shutting, he nodded again.
It was then he noticed how blurry his vision was. Rudo rubbed at his eyes- no, his sockets. It took checking the smear left on his glove to recognize what was happening.
He was crying grease. Of course he was.
Shaking off a surge of bitterness, Rudo gathered his corpse in a fireman's carry (trying not to feel nauseous about it) and skittishly strode to the man’s side. The man did something unexpected when he approached.
Without looking directly at Rudo, he shrugged his trench coat off and offered it over. Rudo stared at it incomprehensibly. The coat looked well-cared for and personalized; with buttons that gave a glimpse into the man’s life. Rudo whirred lowly. What did the man get from showing him this?
When he took a second too long to accept the garment, the man explained himself, “You don’t want me to see, right? Take it.”
Oh.
Rudo was beside himself- no, nevermind. Terrible phrase for right now. He was shocked at the display of kindness. After a long day of events which didn’t seem real… somehow, this managed to rank in the top ten.
Cautiously, he accepted the jacket. Rudo draped it over the stiffening form tucked into his arms. It only took a few moments before red stains bloomed on the fabric. The man didn’t seem to care, despite having every right to.
Instead, he took that as his cue to turn on his heel and start heading back where he came over. Rudo followed a step behind with an inhuman, nearly bird-like gait. He silently wished he could either say ‘thank you’ or apologize for being such a burden.
“Name’s Enjin, by the way.” The man- Enjin said, looking back at him over his shoulder. Rudo tried to give his own name on auto-pilot.
The most he managed was a clangy growl.
—
It was strange. Rudo went from being devastated, to feeling numb as he loaded his wrapped up corpse inside the back of a car.
On the way here, Enjin decided that Rudo would be coming along with him. He also not so subtly implied Rudo didn’t have a choice in the matter. Considering that Rudo was lacking in any other options, and Enjin had been nice so far, he didn’t put up a fuss.
Enjin shut the trunk door with a slam. Rudo was left staring at his warped reflection - barely visible in the metal.
It wasn’t that Rudo didn’t recognize himself. Not entirely. The broad strokes were all there. Ashy white hair and a wide-eyed, resting angry face; simply made from rubbish substitutions. That in itself was the problem. He was a recreation. A slap-dash, DIY doll crafted in the image of an actual person.
Slowly, he touched his faceplate; watching his reflection do the same. There were grease stains running down his cheeks from his earlier ‘tears’. Trying to wipe them away did no good. Rudo was only smudging the grease more.
He hissed to himself in frustration.
“You, uh. You good, kid?” Enjin asked.
Rudo stopped to level him with the flattest stare he could. No, he wasn’t good. He was fucking dead. Seeing that the other’s gas mask was removed; he got a front row view of Enjin's wince.
“Right. Dumb question.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “I gotta make a quick call.”
Before he had the chance to be surprised that there was cellphone service down here; Enjin was already fiddling with his choker. Rudo tilted his head, puzzled, then jumped slightly when the accessory came alive with a burst of static. To his amazement, a feminine voice resounded from the collar.
“Enjin.” She greeted curtly, “Considering that you’ve been AWOL for the past four hours… I hope you’re calling in for a report.”
“Sort of. More a message than anything.” He shrugged, despite only having Rudo as an audience, then went on to say:
“Hey yo, Seimu. Y’know how trash beasts are formed from negative energy? What do you think would happen if all those bad vibes came from a single person?” Enjin fake speculated.
“Where exactly are you headed with this?” The woman on the other end of the line sounded suspicious.
“Well, I found a dead sphereite out in no man’s land… and now there’s a pint-sized trash beast following me around. Here kid, say hi.” Enjin leaned down closer to his level, thumbing that weird collar.
Rudo gave it his best shot and let out a terrible metallic shriek. Enjin pulled back away, grimacing.
“So, yeah. I’m bringing him home. Make sure everybody knows not to kill on sight, ‘kay?”
“Excuse me-”
“Anyway I gotta go now, laters.”
Enjin hung up before Seimu had a chance to respond. At Rudo’s befuddled look, he explained, “I’ll debrief everyone for real when we get back. Don’t wanna waste daylight while you know what is in the trunk.”
Rudo made a small noise of understanding. He didn’t like dwelling on the fact that his body was actively decomposing, but Enjin was right. It was pretty hot out. They were on an unspoken, morbid time limit.
Enjin moved to open the backseat door for him. When Rudo passed by, about to enter, he noticed the other faintly gag. He stopped in place and cocked his head; wordlessly asking what was wrong.
After an awkward beat, Enjin sheepishly admitted, “Sorry. No offense, but you do kinda smell like shit.”
Rudo ducked his head abashedly.
Right. That made sense. He was literally made out of trash. Actually, wait. What kind of trash was he made of…?
Rudo’s pupils widened. Suddenly worried that he might actually smell like shit for a reason; he unlocked a new instinct on the spot.
Every piece of scrap which composed his body became clear to him. He could feel each of them separately. What they were. Where they were located. Rudo was both relieved and disgusted by what he found.
Oh gross. He might be lacking in human waste (thankfully) but there was rotten food in him!
Without warning, Rudo began tearing his insides out. Enjin jerked backwards at the violent display.
“Woah!” He gasped.
Rudo paid him no mind. He was entirely focused on his task. Soon enough, there was a pile of spoiled, festering leftovers on the ground. Rudo was used to dealing with the most disgusting of garbage… but he still cringed, knowing that was part of him a few seconds ago.
He patted himself over again for good measure; double-checking that he hadn’t missed anything. Nope. Rudo was 100% inorganic. Which was a weird thing to be happy about…
He turned back towards Enjin, then jolted when he found the man to be noticeably taller than before. Or rather, Rudo was smaller. Enjin took note of his reaction.
“Think you tossed out a quarter of your body mass there.” He pointed out.
Rudo made a panicked noise. It sounded like wheels skidding on train tracks.
He wasn’t going to be stuck a foot smaller just because he didn’t want banana peels as entrails, right!? Thinking back on the beasts he fought, Rudo remembered how they regenerated. Not using the same material as before. Could he do the same? Just swap bits in and out? Might as well try.
He pointed at a nearby trash heap and whirred. Thankfully, Enjin picked up on his meaning.
“You wanna check if you can replace all of that?”
Rudo nodded. Then, without waiting for the other’s approval, dashed over and started rummaging. Rudo clicked excitedly at what he found.
This place might suck in every way imaginable… but damn it was a treasure trove of top tier trash! It was weird. He didn’t even need to use his eyes anymore. Same as the garbage that made up his own body; Rudo could get a read on everything just by being within close proximity to it.
Wires snaked out from his form. They latched onto different scraps, pulling the pieces in and adding to his body mass as he scurried around. He was back to his regular stature in no time at all.
Before he could consider leaving though, a radio caught his attention.
Rudo fished it out from a stuffed garbage bag. From holding it, he could tell that it’d be a simple fix. So simple that the fact it was thrown away pissed Rudo off. It literally just needed new batteries. The person who owned this must’ve been a moron-
An impression overwhelmed him. Glimpses of a half-life that wasn’t his flashed through his mind. Living with an uncaring man in the lap of luxury, who bought and discarded things simply because he had the money to - knowing that, some day, you would be next in the garbage bin.
It took a moment for Rudo to recognize that these were the radio’s memories. Something Regto used to say came to mind. That objects had souls. Was he right? Rudo supposed that, if he was an object with a soul, then it was entirely possible.
Indignation on the radio’s behalf flooded his being. This thing deserved to be cared for. And, if no one else was willing to step up, then Rudo would - just as he always did. Seeing worth in the ‘worthless’.
‘I’ll treasure you’, Rudo silently promised the radio; face unhinging to swallow it whole.
Instantly, it came to life inside of him. There was a screech of static as Rudo familiarized himself with its mechanics. Testing how to manipulate the speakers into producing what he wanted, rather than relaying radio signals.
After enough playing around, the radio quietened. Rudo metaphorically held his breath for a moment. Then, gingerly, he tried to speak.
“Pleas-e wo-rk.”
Rudo shot up, fists raised and tail lashing in triumph. He did it! It was a bit finicky, with the audio cutting in and out at random with an underlying static background, but he could talk again!! He even got the radio to sound like him specifically.
“Oh hell ye-ah!!”
From behind, Enjin whistled in amazement, “Well, I’ll be damned. Look at you. A talking trash beast.”
That got Rudo to turn around, spines bristling and tail twitching with irritation.
“Don’t c-all me th-at. I’ve g-ot a name. It’s Rudo.” He asserted. There was no way he was gonna let being a trash beast make him any less of a person.
“Rudo.” Enjin parroted, accepting the proof of identity with ease, before smiling and extending a hand, “It’s nice to meet you officially.”
He stared at the offered hand like it’d burn him. Rudo truly didn’t understand why this guy was being so nice. By all means, he should be disgusted - unwilling to touch something so gross.
Enjin misunderstood his hesitation.
“Do people not shake hands up on the sphere?” He asked.
“Not wi-th me.” Rudo answered, even though that only seemed to confuse Enjin more.
After one last second of uncertainty, Rudo reached out and accepted the handshake. Enjin, to his credit, didn’t cringe; despite the glove being coated with filth. He did wipe his hand on his pant leg afterwards, but Rudo didn’t take it personally.
“Ready to head out now?” He nodded back towards the car.
“I g-uess.” Rudo shrugged.
They headed over without any more delays. Rudo situated himself in the back while Enjin took the driver’s seat. He felt comically out of place sitting in the backseat. Unhelped was the fact that he’d never been inside a car before. Rudo didn’t know what to do with his weird legs or tail.
After some fidgeting, he settled on a gargoyle sit; making an effort to not accidentally scratch the upholstery with his talons. He’d ruined enough of Enjin’s things today…
“S-orry about your jack-et.” Rudo apologised, now that he could.
Enjin was quick to wave him off, “Eh, don’t worry about it. I’ve washed worse stains out of that thing.”
Somehow, he doubted that. Rudo didn’t press the issue though. Instead, unthinkingly twiddling his thumbs as Enjin started the car up, he moved onto a different topic that’d been nagging at him.
“What did yo-u mean when you w-ere talk-ing about trash beasts earli-er? With them being m-ade from nega-tive energy.”
“Right. You’re flying blind about all that.” Enjin muttered, “This might take a second to get through, so listen up…”
Wheels rolled underneath them as the vehicle set off. Rudo did as instructed and listened with apt attention as Enjin ran through a long-winded explanation about how things worked here on the ground. His earlier suspicions were right. Objects could house souls. That single fact led into a collection of things.
Givers. Cleaners. Anima. Vital Instruments. Rudo was blown away by it all.
Enjin went into the most detail about trash beasts for obvious reasons. Same as physical trash, negative emotions also fell down from the Sphere; leading to the creation of trash beasts. Normally they were a collection of stagnant energy without a single source.
Rudo seemed to be an exception. For as unusual as it was; he died with enough rage, equal to that of multiple people’s, to create an entirely new beast from scratch.
“That makes se-nse.” He murmured quietly, “It’s fog-gy but… I wasn’t me w-hen I woke up. I wa-s just. Angry. My gloves cha-nged that.”
He clenched his fists, focusing on the familiar creak of leather. Another notion sunk up on him then. He was somewhat tentative in voicing it.
“Do you think I’d be a giv-er if I was s-till…?” Rudo stopped, not wanting to say ‘alive’.
“Without a doubt.” Enjin nodded, “You put enough of your soul into caring for those gloves that they literally carry a piece of you. Or, at least, that’s my best guess why you’re not feral.”
There was a brief lull in the conversation as Rudo considered the implications of his existence.
From the sound of things, he was just a dead kid’s need for revenge made manifest with an imprinted personality courtesy of these gloves. Shit. Did he even count as Rudo?
He shuddered. Rudo really didn’t want to think about that right now. This day had been awful enough already without an existential meltdown added on top. Thankfully, Enjin decided to pipe up - addressing another one of Rudo’s numerous issues.
“So what’s the plan for your, uh, body?” He cringed saying that out loud.
“I…” Rudo trailed off, thinking long and hard about the matter, before settling on a quiet yet certain, “I wan-na burn it. An-d keep the ash-es.”
He didn’t want to be laid to rest just anywhere. Especially not down here. No, he needed to be with Regto - even in death. The funeral rights for tribesfolk were poor, but his dad would be buried in some shallow grave up above.
For as fucked up as it was… he’d carry his ashes until he got back. That grave would also be Rudo’s.
Thankfully, Enjin didn’t pry. The man only nodded.
Silence descended onto the car. Rudo had a thought as they drove off towards the horizon.
If trash beasts were made from negative emotions… what would happen after he got his revenge? Would he just… fall apart? In considering the possibility; Rudo realized he didn’t care.
Why would he? Regto was gone. There was no point sticking around after the shitheads up top got their just desserts. By all means, Rudo was already dead. More than that, he was alone-
Enjin took an abrupt turn out of nowhere.
Rudo was flung right out of his spiraling thoughts and against the opposing car door. He slammed into it with enough force to splatter everywhere.
Angst was washed away for a moment. Drowned out by intense, yet harmless indignation as Rudo experienced the extremely odd sensation of being a living pile of trash - senses stretched out in every which direction.
Enjin had unintentionally stopped a second breakdown short with his shitty driving. Rudo would maybe thank him if he weren’t so pissed off.
Not even bothering to finish recollecting into a human shape, he grabbed his angrily crackling radio-mouth and shoved it right next to Enjin’s ear to scream:
“D-U-D-E-!!!”
“My bad." Enjin cringed.