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LJ Idol: Baby Hatch
Jul. 11th, 2024 03:51 pmTitle: Baby Hatch
Prompt: Sankofa
TW: Little bloody
Petyr was elbow deep in a bag of Cheetos when his ancient brick of a Mac started to buzz. He frantically wiped his hands on his brown overalls, smearing orange dust on his crotch as he rushed to stand.
He walked briskly through the steel hallway, the pale yellow lights flashed sluggishly along the walls.
Pictures of babies were hung every few feet. Some had five or six eyes, some had tentacles for arms. All were swaddled in red clothing with the slogan “Yokai Hatch” repeated in big block letters.
Karen from Accounting opened the door of her office as he was breezing past.
She squinted at him from behind large gold round frames. She held a Big Gulp between her furry paws.
“You need help?”
Petyr shrugged. “As long as it is not oozing or has rows of serrated teeth I’ll be fine.”
She took a long sip, nodding. He knew she remembered Basil, who almost took Greg’s arm off last summer.
Greg worked in the basement now, reviewing camera feed behind a locked door.
Petyr loped off for the front of the building, where the hatch lived. He thought of how it looked from the outside, a drawer of metal carved into the outside wall. Messages about safety were taped on it, along with warnings not to leave pink cheeked babies who might get consumed. The drawing of a human baby with a large red NO overlaid on it was particularly inspiring to him.
When someone put a child in the hatch, it gently deposited them into a square plastic container, drilled with small holes. It was enough to contain most creatures though one or two had managed to escape.
One was a gelatinous ooze named Partridge who slithered out through a miniscule cap between the cover and the frame. The other was a fox demon who simply ate through her cage. She’d torn her way through most of the office before Helen from Dairy managed to subdue her. Helen had said it was easier than wrestling cows.
In the box was a small lump so black it absorbed the light. Petyr put on his gloves and started to hum a soothing song.
“Hello baby, hello,” he sang.
The lump moved sluggishly towards his voice. It seemed almost sad.
“It’s okay,” Petyr said, opening the lid. “You’re safe with us. We have lots of lovely people who will care for you.”
He gingerly opened the lid, wary of teeth or arms.
The baby rolled a little but stayed still. It was a little bigger than the palm of Petyr’s hand. He grabbed a swaddling cloth and wrapped it around the baby’s body, cradling it in his arms.
“You’re okay,” he said.
He couldn’t see any eyes or arms. Nothing escaped the blackness of the baby’s skin. He started towards the nursery when he felt the building shake.
“Oh shit,” he said. “Earthquake.”
Real earthquake, not a drill. Though he knew where to go next from the drills he’d been to a few months before. Terrible things, drills. All that standing around and doing nothing. He kind of regretted bitching so much about them now. He knew where to go.
Around him, doors opened as employees left their offices to join him in the gym which had been built to double as a shelter in cases like this.
The walls shook even harder, some ceiling tiles came down on them as they all ran for the gym. Petyr cradled the baby to shield it from any falling debris.
Everyone was holding their phones, frantically looking for news. There wasn’t any.
The building stopped shaking. Petyr huddled near a wall. This didn’t feel like an earthquake, was all he could think.
In his arms, the infant let out a piercing noise that sounded eerily like a siren.
He heard a loud crack. Parts of the ceiling broke off and rained down on everyone.
“Get back!” he heard someone yell.
They all shifted to the back of the gym as the ceiling split open.
A round eye looked down at him. The baby’s cries ratcheted up. A piece of stone fell and cut the skin above his right eyebrow. Karen rushed over, tearing off her scarf and applying pressure.
“Is it here for you?” Petyr whispered. It happened that the parent regretted leaving their child sometimes. Not often, but there were procedures that had to be followed.
“We can’t just give it back,” Karen said. “We have forms to fill out. In triplicate!”
“I don’t think it’s going to wait for paperwork,” Petyr said, wiping the blood from his eye. He could taste it on his lips now, hot and metal.
He took the wiggling baby, brushing its tentacles away as it swiped at his face.
“Come on now,” he said, crooning at where its face would be. “We’ll get you back to Mom and Dad.”
He wasn’t sure if either term applied. He thought the monsters produced asexually but he’d never bothered to research much about them before. He’d probably have to change that.
The baby made a gurgling noise and projectile spit a glob of green goo at him. Petyr gagged, coughed, and kept going.
He held the baby up to the giant eyeball. His knees shook. He locked them and firmed his chin.
“Look, he’s here. This tantrum needs to end. You know the policy of our institution. We are more than happy to return what was left. This is impolite and unacceptable behavior. You’ll need to leave your name and contact information so we can bill you for the damages to our building.”
He heard a wail from one of the workers still in the room.
“Probably for therapy bills too,” he added.
The eye went away, an ink-black tentacle replaced it. It was twice as tall as Petyr and so big around it had to knock more of the wall away to get through. It gently picked up the baby who stopped crying once it was held.
“Thank you for your patronage,” Petyr yelled after it.
He fell on his butt as the monster drifted away, his legs would no longer hold him.
The hole in the ceiling was open and he could see the stars through them.
He laid all the way down, looking up, almost wanting to smile.
Prompt: Sankofa
TW: Little bloody
Petyr was elbow deep in a bag of Cheetos when his ancient brick of a Mac started to buzz. He frantically wiped his hands on his brown overalls, smearing orange dust on his crotch as he rushed to stand.
He walked briskly through the steel hallway, the pale yellow lights flashed sluggishly along the walls.
Pictures of babies were hung every few feet. Some had five or six eyes, some had tentacles for arms. All were swaddled in red clothing with the slogan “Yokai Hatch” repeated in big block letters.
Karen from Accounting opened the door of her office as he was breezing past.
She squinted at him from behind large gold round frames. She held a Big Gulp between her furry paws.
“You need help?”
Petyr shrugged. “As long as it is not oozing or has rows of serrated teeth I’ll be fine.”
She took a long sip, nodding. He knew she remembered Basil, who almost took Greg’s arm off last summer.
Greg worked in the basement now, reviewing camera feed behind a locked door.
Petyr loped off for the front of the building, where the hatch lived. He thought of how it looked from the outside, a drawer of metal carved into the outside wall. Messages about safety were taped on it, along with warnings not to leave pink cheeked babies who might get consumed. The drawing of a human baby with a large red NO overlaid on it was particularly inspiring to him.
When someone put a child in the hatch, it gently deposited them into a square plastic container, drilled with small holes. It was enough to contain most creatures though one or two had managed to escape.
One was a gelatinous ooze named Partridge who slithered out through a miniscule cap between the cover and the frame. The other was a fox demon who simply ate through her cage. She’d torn her way through most of the office before Helen from Dairy managed to subdue her. Helen had said it was easier than wrestling cows.
In the box was a small lump so black it absorbed the light. Petyr put on his gloves and started to hum a soothing song.
“Hello baby, hello,” he sang.
The lump moved sluggishly towards his voice. It seemed almost sad.
“It’s okay,” Petyr said, opening the lid. “You’re safe with us. We have lots of lovely people who will care for you.”
He gingerly opened the lid, wary of teeth or arms.
The baby rolled a little but stayed still. It was a little bigger than the palm of Petyr’s hand. He grabbed a swaddling cloth and wrapped it around the baby’s body, cradling it in his arms.
“You’re okay,” he said.
He couldn’t see any eyes or arms. Nothing escaped the blackness of the baby’s skin. He started towards the nursery when he felt the building shake.
“Oh shit,” he said. “Earthquake.”
Real earthquake, not a drill. Though he knew where to go next from the drills he’d been to a few months before. Terrible things, drills. All that standing around and doing nothing. He kind of regretted bitching so much about them now. He knew where to go.
Around him, doors opened as employees left their offices to join him in the gym which had been built to double as a shelter in cases like this.
The walls shook even harder, some ceiling tiles came down on them as they all ran for the gym. Petyr cradled the baby to shield it from any falling debris.
Everyone was holding their phones, frantically looking for news. There wasn’t any.
The building stopped shaking. Petyr huddled near a wall. This didn’t feel like an earthquake, was all he could think.
In his arms, the infant let out a piercing noise that sounded eerily like a siren.
He heard a loud crack. Parts of the ceiling broke off and rained down on everyone.
“Get back!” he heard someone yell.
They all shifted to the back of the gym as the ceiling split open.
A round eye looked down at him. The baby’s cries ratcheted up. A piece of stone fell and cut the skin above his right eyebrow. Karen rushed over, tearing off her scarf and applying pressure.
“Is it here for you?” Petyr whispered. It happened that the parent regretted leaving their child sometimes. Not often, but there were procedures that had to be followed.
“We can’t just give it back,” Karen said. “We have forms to fill out. In triplicate!”
“I don’t think it’s going to wait for paperwork,” Petyr said, wiping the blood from his eye. He could taste it on his lips now, hot and metal.
He took the wiggling baby, brushing its tentacles away as it swiped at his face.
“Come on now,” he said, crooning at where its face would be. “We’ll get you back to Mom and Dad.”
He wasn’t sure if either term applied. He thought the monsters produced asexually but he’d never bothered to research much about them before. He’d probably have to change that.
The baby made a gurgling noise and projectile spit a glob of green goo at him. Petyr gagged, coughed, and kept going.
He held the baby up to the giant eyeball. His knees shook. He locked them and firmed his chin.
“Look, he’s here. This tantrum needs to end. You know the policy of our institution. We are more than happy to return what was left. This is impolite and unacceptable behavior. You’ll need to leave your name and contact information so we can bill you for the damages to our building.”
He heard a wail from one of the workers still in the room.
“Probably for therapy bills too,” he added.
The eye went away, an ink-black tentacle replaced it. It was twice as tall as Petyr and so big around it had to knock more of the wall away to get through. It gently picked up the baby who stopped crying once it was held.
“Thank you for your patronage,” Petyr yelled after it.
He fell on his butt as the monster drifted away, his legs would no longer hold him.
The hole in the ceiling was open and he could see the stars through them.
He laid all the way down, looking up, almost wanting to smile.
