'If I tell you a secret, can you swear not to tell anyone else, ever?' Niffty asked Angel covertly as they sat at the bar. Her singular eye grew solemn as it bored into Angel's eight.
'Sure thing, tiny. Whatever you want.' Angel knew it was always safer to play along with Niffty until she got bored and found something else.
Niffty stood on her tippy toes on the bar stool next to Angel's, her clammy hands gripping his upper shoulder for balance as she leaned in. Her hot breath fanned over the shell of his ear.
'I'm in love with Strog.'
As she withdrew, Angel nodded sagely.
'Uh huh. I see. Who's Strog, babe? I ain't never heard of him.'
Niffty rolled her eye, and much to Angel's horror, pointed at Husk's back.
‘That’s Husk, Niff. Ya’ve known him for years. Ya feelin’ okay today, girlie?’
Angel tried to press the back of a hand against Niffty’s forehead, but her tiny hand slapped it away with surprising force. She stamped her foot on the barstool, crossing her arms in fury.
‘I know who Husk is, stupid! We shared a bunk bed for a decade. He never used to let me bring my roaches to bed!’ she hissed.
Angel tried to keep his face blank as he processed this new information. Bunk beds, eh? That’s something he’d keep close to his chest for a while. Wait for the right moment to drop that little tidbit. Ask Husk what he thought about his bunkmate.
‘Angel!’ Niffty stage whispered, breaking him out of his thoughts. She gestured her head towards Husk's returning form. Angel widened his eyes, shaking his head infinitesimally.
They communicated wordlessly, neither understanding the other, before Husk stood between them behind the bar once more.
‘Fuck’s wrong with you two?’ Husk grunted.
Niffty glared at Angel for a final time, throwing her arms up in exasperation and scrambling up onto the bar.
‘Can I have a drink? I want a gin fizz.’
‘You know “I want” gets you nothin’ at all, Niff. Try again.’ Husk sighed, wiping her footprints away.
Angel was always amazed at the patience Husk had for Niffty, often wishing it would extend that nicely to him.
‘Please can I have a gin fizz, kitty.’
Niffty held her tiny hands in a twisted-up begging motion, batting her thick lashes – and suddenly, Angel knew how Niffty got away with everything. With a look that cute, he'd have been hard pressed to deny her a gin fizz, and he didn't even know how to make one.
‘Get off my bar, and I'll make you one, alright?’
Niffty nodded, scrambling back to her seat. She watched with unrestrained glee at Husk’s retreating figure.
She clambered onto Angel's lap, ducking the flying hands trying to bat her away in their shock. Once Angel stopped trying to forcibly remove her, she stood with a foot on either thigh, her small hands gripping the lapels of his blazer.
‘Listen to me,’ she said menacingly. ‘I love Strog, and I'll not have you dragging her down by attaching her to Husk.’
Angel gulped in a clichéd fashion as he found himself with a needle pressed in the dip of his throat, between his collarbones.
‘I still don't know who the fuck she is, Niff. Ya gotta help me out here.’ One of his lower hands crept up and gripped the fist brandishing the needle, disarming Niffty.
‘Husk’s chest has a face,’ Niffty said, blush rising on her cheeks at the thought of the curl of Strog’s hair against her cheek, or the way her eyes shone in the dim light.
Angel shook his head, trying to wake himself from whatever nightmare trip Val had him on.
‘That don't clear up shit, squirt. Be explicitly clear with me, pretend I'm a real bozo.’
Niffty sighed and rolled her eye again. Nobody ever understood anything she had to say.
‘I don't have to pretend, Angel, you are a bozo. When I make him turn around, look at Husk's chest, and Strog will be there!’
Niffty knocked over Husk’s garnish tray and several utensils as she threw herself over the counter headfirst.
‘Fucks sake, Niff! I told ya before wait til the roaches leave the bar of their own accord before you try n’ get them!’ Husk called out. ‘Ain't safe nor sanitary for you to be throwin’ yourself round like that.’
Husk abandoned the shaker to pick Niffty up from where she lay, sprawled on the bar floor. Angel gasped as he saw Strog for the first time.
The two button eyes staring blankly into the middle-distance, the grey curl of her hair where it met the white fur of her face. Two tufts of white fur making up a mouth that was always open in perpetual dumb shock. Husk's red bowtie even sat on the crown of Strog's head, making her extra pretty.
The little freak was right. There was a face in Husk's chest.
He ignored Husk's furrowed brow as it pointed his way, the tail of one arched at the end, asking if Angel was okay. Angel held his arms out for Husk to place a surprisingly damp Niffty into them.See AlsoHow to Build a Safe Room in Your Home: Expert Tips and GuidanceHow to Turn Every Room into a Panic Room Part 3: Decentralize Food Storage and Preparation - SurvivopediaAlles, was Sie über Panikattacken wissen müssenWie kann man eine Panikattackenkrise bewältigen?
He brought her close to his chest, under the pretence of checking her over.
‘I see her, tiny. I see Strog.’
Niffty pumped her fist weakly in celebration. She nuzzled further into Angel's chest fluff, still a bit dazed from her stunt.
‘Told you so. I love her.’
Angel stroked the top of Niff’s head — it wouldn't be long until she passed out in his arms. She'd been up since the ass crack of dawn with the fucking vacuum.
‘Do ya think she loves ya back?’ Angel murmured, rocking her gently. He signalled with his lower hands behind her back for Husk not to carry on with her drink. He got a thumbs up in return.
‘I know she loves me, Angel. I can feel it. The roach isn’t trying to eat me so much anymore.’ Niffty barely finished her sentence as she drifted off in Angel's arms, her smile unwavering as she dreamt of chasing down bugs, burning skies, and walking hand in hand with Strog.
Husk was being intransigent. He denied Strog’s existence, and Niffty wasn’t having it.
‘She’s there and you know it, old man! I can’t believe you’d deny me love, I’m telling Alastor.’
‘Angel, grab her, I don’t need Alastor brought into this fuckin’ mess.’ Husk sighed as Niffty made a break for the stairs.
Niffty found herself suspended by the back of her apron, legs and arms pedalling furiously as she was spun around to face Husk again.
‘Niff, you can’t bring Al into this shit, alright? He’s busy with important overlord stuff. Can you be trusted to calm down, and we’ll discuss this over drinks, like adults?’
Niffty knew Alastor had fed Husk a load of lies about the important overlord business. She knew Alastor was holed up in his room trying to figure out why he wanted to kiss and punch Lucifer at the same time. He’d been unreceptive to her efforts to show him through fan fiction that he can do both.
She nodded at Husk and stopped flailing her limbs.
Angel took his seat on his usual stool, so Niffty chose the one next to him, standing on it to keep a better eye on Husk as he went to get them all a drink.
‘Why did you tell him!’ she wailed at Angel, beating her tiny fits against his nearest arm.
‘I’m sorry, babe. I wasn’t thinking, it just slipped out.’ He deployed multiple hands to catch her surprisingly painful punches.
‘Argh, you’re such an empty-headed bimbo! I shouldn’t have trusted you.’ She crossed her arms in fury.
Husk appeared in front of her, taking her by surprise and brandishing a pointed finger at her.
‘Hey! We don’t fuckin’ talk like that to our friends, ‘specially Angel. You know better than that Niff. Now, apologise or no Blue Margarita for you.’
Niffty glared at Husk, and Husk glared back. They’d had these kinds of standoffs before, and they could last years. Niffty would never consider backing down, but at the same time, being mad at Husk meant a possibility of less Strog time.
‘It’s okay,’ Angel tried to intervene
‘No It’s not!’ They didn’t break eye contact as they yelled simultaneously.
‘Angel’s ruined my life!’ Niffty wailed at Husk, trying to push away the claw.
‘No, he fuckin’ hasn’t. We’re gonna sit and talk reasonably. Without theatrics, dramatics, or name-callin’. It ain’t polite, nor constructive to problem-solvin’.’ Husk said firmly. His claw trained on Niffty all the while.
Niffty felt unchecked rage rattle through her tiny body at the injustice of it all. She itched to take out the knife she kept in her apron pocket and slice Husk’s smug pointer claw off as it burned her with shame. She felt millions of tiny roaches crawl through her lungs — tearing through the tissue, before making their way up her throat.
Charlie’s rainbows, hugs, and therapy were getting to Husk. The Husk she’d shared a room with wouldn’t give a damn about sparing Angel’s feelings. He wouldn't want to be polite or constructive — if she’d so much as mentioned feelings to that Husk, he’d have told her where she could go. She missed that Husk.
It wasn’t fair.
‘I’m sorry you’re an empty-headed bimbo who can’t be trusted.’ As it left her mouth, Niffty knew it would only get her in deeper trouble. But the quick flash of hurt across Angel’s face was worth being yanked by the scruff of her neck by Husk.
Before she could get her bearings, Niffty was manhandled onto the sink in the bathroom behind the bar. She shuffled her feet, trying not to slip in the soap scum — it’d obviously been a while since she’d given this bathroom a once over. She was losing her touch.
Everything was a mess.
‘The fuck has gotten into you, huh? Why are you treating him like shit? He ain’t nothin’ but nice to you an’ you wanna double down on callin’ him a bimbo.’
Husk pinned her eye with his own, effectively trapping her. She squirmed under his heavy, all-knowing gaze. She hated it when Husk got all mad at her. He never seemed to want to understand and always drew his own conclusions. The rage boiled under her skin.
‘He told you my most private secret, and you don’t understand it and don’t want to try to understand it, and you’re just going to take her away from me, and it’s true love!’ She fell to her knees against the cold grimy porcelain, trying to block the flow of tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘It’s true love!’
A heavy-handed claw patted her head, curving down her cheek and gently raising her chin up, so she was looking into Husk’s eyes again. They were softer again, more reasonable.
‘Okay, my bad short-stack. Shouldn’t’ve come at you all angry an’ afraid. How’s about I tell Angel to mind the bar a minute, I’ll pull up a stool an’ we’ll talk it through, then have drinks? Sound good?’
Niffty nodded, taking the shaky double breath that follows a good crying session. She never normally cried, Alastor made sure to tell her all the time that no man was worth her tears. But Niffty had learnt over the years that crying got through to Husk in a way shouting and screaming wouldn’t. Husk could yell with the best of them — he lived to yell about something or other — but he couldn’t abide crying.See AlsoHow to Create a Scary Atmosphere in Games: Tips and Tricks
She’d figured out it was the same for Angel pretty quickly. Both of them panicked anytime she cried, and immediately folded like a deck of cards. She had them wrapped around her little finger.
Through the tiled wall, Niffty heard the muffled cry of “what the fuck?” Which was presumably Angel’s response to Husk asking him to cover the bar. The heavy wooden door creaked with disuse as Husk wrangled his bartending stool through the doorway. He heaved it down and sat in front of her, panting.
‘Okay, shrimp. What’s going on?’ He poked her in the stomach where he knew she was ticklish, and Niffty doubled over to protect herself from the sensation — to no avail. She screeched and grabbed his claw, desperate to divert it away from her midsection.
Husk let up, and Niffty sat on the ledge next to the tap with her legs in the basin — pointedly ignoring the soap scum just inches from her skirts.
‘You fillin’ me in? Or are we gonna sit an’ stare at each other all day? ‘Cause if we are, I gotta find better bar cover. Angel don’t know a strainer from a stirrer, an’ I caught him tryin’ to pop off a bottle cap with his teeth the other day, ‘cause I wasn’t quick enough with the opener.’
Niffty ducked her head again, avoiding Husk’s gaze once more.
‘I know you ain’t normally this shy, pee-wee. I’ll do the hard part first, shall I? Who’s Strog?’
Niffty’s cheeks burned at the mere mention of Strog’s name. Her heart nearly beat at a hummingbird’s pace from her chest. She looked at Strog for encouragement first, finding it in those shiny black eyes, before meeting Husk’s gaze.
‘Strog is the love of my life, and she lives on your chest.’ Niffty felt a rush of adrenaline course through her. Her hands trembled where they clasped around her knees.
‘What is she, like a flea? You tryin’ to tell me I got fleas?’ Husk looked taken aback. Niffty deflated.
‘NO! Arghhhhh she’s not a flea! I don’t know why I even bother trying to explain this stuff to you!’ Niffty wanted to tear her hair out in frustration as real, unintentional tears leaked from the corners of her eye.
‘Okay, okay,’ Husk soothed. ‘’M sorry. I’m an old man, Niff. You got to be patient with me, I don’t always understand shit right away. Strog lives… on my chest, yeah?’
‘Go get Angel, he can help get it through your thick old man skull.’
Niffty watched while Husk stopped himself reacting instinctively. She tracked the unspoken snarky retort as Husk swallowed it and it landed deep inside his chest. When Husk got up to fetch Angel, Niffty tried to push the stray cat hairs in the sink down the drain with her foot.
‘How’s it going, girlie?’ Angel asked, gliding into the room.
‘He’s not understanding. It won’t compute in his pea-sized old man brain.’ She shot a glare at Husk as he sat down in front of her again.
‘Alright, I know he’s a stubborn ass, and it can be difficult to get him to think some type of way.’ He paused, pressing one finger to his lips as if in thought. ‘What about if I stand on the inside of the door here, while you two talk, and if ya need me to help him understand, I can jump in. That alright with you?’
Niffty nodded, mildly grateful that Angel’s acknowledgement that Husk was difficult seemed to soothe the desire to rip her own hair out. She took a big deep breath before speaking again.
‘Strog is your chest, but she’s her own person.’ Niffty watched as Husk’s golden eyes flicked to Angel in the corner. He must’ve been met with some type of shooing motion as he dragged his eyes back to her.
‘Uh huh, and what does S-Strog look like?’ Husk didn’t sound sure of what he was hearing, but Niffty had to accept this was the best progress they’d made all afternoon. She leaned forward and beckoned Husk to do the same. Once Strog was in reach, she began tracing a finger down Husk’s side — where the grey fur met the white.
‘This is her hair, the grey part. I love that it curls beautifully against her pale cheek, like the old movie stars. It makes her look so elegant. You must know she’s there on some level because you tie this red bow in her hair everyday!’
Niffty stroked Husk’s bow tie, straightening it. Husk watched as best he could, as the tiny woman looked lovingly at his chest fluff. She moved on.
‘These are her eyes! They’re so gorgeous and endless. They see through me and into my very being every time I look into them.’
‘Niff, those are just buttons I glu-’
Husk stopped as Angel frantically hissed, and sliced at his neck with all of his hands from the doorway. Husk furrowed his brow, as tiny hands continued to pet the fur of his chest near his buttons.
‘Ixnay on the uttonsbay,’ Angel muttered under his breath, hoping only Husk's radar-like ears would pick it up. A barely there nod confirmed the message had got through, and Niffty looked none the wiser.
‘And this is the most perfect part, her mouth!’
Husk looked down again, and Niff gestured to his interminable cow's lick. He'd tried everything, wet hairbrush, hairdryers, even grooming himself. Nothing would get his chest fluff to lay flatter.
Angel called it chic, and artful. Husk called it ridiculous and frilly. Niffty, apparently, called it Strog.
What the fuck had he done on Earth that was so bad he deserved this?
‘Her lips look so kissable.’ Niffty began to lean in, and Husk panicked.
‘Niffty, what the fu-’
‘Hahey, hey! It's important to take things slow, doll. Ya don't want to scare Strog off,’ Angel interjected, coming to stand next to Husk — who couldn't have been more relieved.
‘You don't take it slow, whore.’ Niffty folded her arms across her chest again.
Husk stood up, ready to start yelling at the infuriating bite-sized Alastor that stood before him. That smug cunt had her trained to spout shit she didn't even understand fully.
He felt a nimble hand press against his sternum, holding him back. He could see the plain smile on Angel's face, but stared in awe at the cold fury hiding in his eyes.
‘Listen, pipsqueak. I don't take it slow ‘cause I'm paid for it. Are you bein’ paid or willin’ to pay?’
Niffty had the good sense to shake her head, squirming at the thought.
‘Hm. That's what I thought. Now get out there and wait at the bar before you say more shit you don't mean. Maybe I'll be nice and talk Husk into givin’ you that drink you want. ‘Cause after hearin’ that, I doubt he's in the mood to be nice to ya.’
Husk shook his head from side to side to emphasise Angel's point. Niffty stood, and gestured to be plonked on the ground, to which Angle obliged.
She stalked out of the bathroom and clambered up onto the barstool next to Angel's usual space. She heaved a heavy, burdened sigh before headbutting the bar as hard as she could.
Aside from the throbbing, the cool lacquered wood felt good against her skin. It had been quite the afternoon. She could hear them conferring and whispering inside the bathroom, but couldn't make out what was being said.
It wasn't fair. Everyone had someone. Husk had Angel, Charlie had Vaggie, Alastor had Lucifer — they just didn't know it yet. Pentious had even had Cherri. Niffty had no one except the bugs, and they didn't talk back. Nobody understood her to her core.
There were times when some of them would get her. The sheer joy of connection would outweigh any of the sadness, but then their person would come back and Niff was on her own again.
It got lonely, and sometimes it was like there was a never ending emptiness rattling around in her ribs as she looked at everyone in their pairs. There were jokes she missed, and people forgot about her a lot. Sometimes it felt like she was invisible, or trapped behind a big sheet of glass and nobody could hear her.
They all got to do fun things like sing, dance, and go places — while Niffty remained stuck vacuuming, or unclogging toilets.
She remembered the fairy tales she'd heard when she was alive, about the Prince and the Princess and the happily ever after. Sometimes Niffty felt like what she imagined the sister of the Princess to feel like, after the couple went to live in their fancy new castle. An abandoned nobody who just has to get on with their daily tasks, hauling things around, cleaning, fixing, killing.
Why couldn't the others see it felt like the roaches had crawled inside her and were eating her alive — until Strog came along and handed her a can of insecticide.
‘Niff?’ Angel's voice came from beside her.
‘Go away!’ She bit her lip as soon as she heard the wobble of tears in her voice. It wasn't long before she felt them, big, fat droplets of bad feelings and betrayal.
‘Oh Tiny, what's wrong?’ Angel gathered her into his arms, all four wrapping tightly around her as she let the dam break. She sobbed against his sweater, not caring about all the snot, tears and dribble was staining it with.
Niffty heard Husk take her place on the stool, and he reached out a hand as Angel loosened his grip. She turned and grabbed onto his thumb, pulling herself over into his arms where he cradled her into his chest. The scent of musty tobacco and spicy whisky calmed her down, but tears still dripped into Husk’s coarse fur.
Strog caught Niffty's eye, her coal-black eyes winking reassuringly in the warmly lit lobby. Niffty tried to choke back a fresh round of tears as she burrowed further into Strog's comforting fur.
It was 3am by the time Angel finally fell asleep.
It was 3.07am when scratching in the vent woke him up. He sat up, Fat Nuggets was accounted for — wedged in his favourite place, between Husk's back and the wall. He seemed to love the cool temperature of the wall, combined with the soothing vibration of Husk's snore-purring.
Which left only one culprit. Niffty.
Sure enough, he saw a flash of red and yellow shift behind the grate, nimble hands making quick work of already loose screws.
Angel laid back down facing the vent. He closed his eyes briefly — hoping for strength. It wasn't going to come, but you don't ask, you don't get.
When he opened his eyes, Niffty was there. He startled, not expecting her to be so close, or staring blindly at his face.
‘Are you awake?’ she whispered.
‘I am now, what do you want, sproglet? It's three in the morning.’
Without warning, she scrambled up onto the bed, and sat on his stomach. He caught her before she could get too far, trying to regain the wind she'd knocked out of him.
‘Niff, I swear to fuck. You wake Husk, you're dealin’ with him. Do you know how useless he is when he wakes up? You'll get no fuckin’ sense outta him.’
‘’M not here for Husk,’ Niffty mumbled, transfixed on Strog's eyes, tearful in the moonlight. Both women knew what had to happen.
‘Well, you'd best not be here for Strog. Husk still ain't figured out how we're gonna solve this one, babe. He said he'd have an answer for ya tomorrow? Why don't you take Fatty and he can sleep over with you tonight, that sound good?’
Niffty shook her head, silently communicating with Strog. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, dripping onto Angel's baggy pyjama top. Angel rubbed gentle circles over Niffty's back.
‘We broke up.’ She turned and threw herself into Angel's fluff. With a silent oof he scooped her closer again and turned his back to Husk. He stroked her hair as she muffled hiccuping sobs into his chest.
‘Shhh shh shh,’ Angel hushed, kissing the top of her head. ‘It must’ve been a real difficult thing to do, munchkin.’
Niffty nodded, burrowing deeper. It was hard. But it wasn't meant to be. Niffty's supposed to be alone, she understands that. Strong understood too, even if she didn't agree.
The chasm in Niffty's chest felt as hollow and hungry as it had ever been. A giant cockroach waiting open-mouthed to devour her from the inside out. Angel's gentle humming kept her from falling in.
‘Why don't you stay here tonight, bestiolina? And we'll spend the day together tomorrow, huh? Have a girly day, jus’ you and me. Then when we're done we'll get Husk to make us loads a drinks? Whatddya think?’
Niffty looked up into Angel's eyes, the link glowing warmly in the dim light. There was what Alastor would call a “disgusting earnestness” shining in them. But Angel's offer did sound nice, and like a lot of fun.
She nodded tentatively — watching Angel's smile break across his face made her own smile copy. It stretched ear from ear, and she very nearly giggled and the sweet burn of it.
Angel stroked her hair gently once again and tucked her back into his chest again. Suddenly, the roach inside stopped roaring. It closed its mouth, realising Niffty wasn't going to fall in. She wasn't entirely safe yet, but a door had appeared, decorated with a pink spider web and some red feathers.