Living Mr. Jenni.

         We're all afraid of something; the clicking of spiders' legs, the pain of a needle, things that go bump in the night.

         Stars glittered, the only blemishes on the blackened sky. A cool breeze blew in from the west, icy and sharp. Trees, silhouetted against the night, stared loathingly at a slight body; sprawled, unmoving, on the grass.
         Moments passed.
         Slowly, excruciatingly and painfully, the body rolled over. It opened its eyes.
Dark hair smattered its face, strings draped across from a bloodied scalp. Thick, black liquid pooled around it, seeping into the hard earth. One arm was twisted in a sickening fashion; ivory bone glinting in the moon-less glow. It's chest shuddered and heaved, spluttering blood from its mouth.
         A low moan escaped it's parted lips, and it heaved itself upright; gasping and panting, its face contorted into a picture of pain. A hand reached to its neck, curling round something and yanking as hard as it could. The arm went slack, dropping to the figure's side, and it closed its eyes.
         It's head dropped forward. The wind ceased, the air left dense and sticky. With a slight grunt, the figure fell backward, hitting the ground with an unearthly thud.
         Silence followed, broken only by a quiet, haunting echo of the wind. A tight chittering cut through the night, followed by the tinkling of bone on bone.
         As the sound neared, it changed; forming a strangled squeaking, almost a giggle. The tinkling turned into an omnipresent clicking, as if of chattering teeth.
         At the corner of vision, smudged in thickening darkness, an orb of muted yellow broke away from the trees. One dark pit and one of dazzling white became visible on the orb; the fuzzy light of the white pit illuminating what was below.
         A fixed, horrible grin was spread across it. A skull, yipping and chattering.
         It floated over to the decrepit figure, its own body not yet visible. The skull lowered and, carefully and calmly, three tentacles detached from the form. They wrapped round the bloodied figure's hand, prying open the fingers and slipping something out of its clutch. The skull took a single look at the shimmering metal in its tentacles. The grin turned haunting. Sad.
         Inscribed on the metal, were the words: Samantha Poldroy.

* * *

         Blood throbbed in her ears, pounding her head and making her sick to the back of the throat. She let her eyes open slightly and immediately regretted it; the pain switching to her vision. The pulsing black cleared slowly, and she found herself staring to a white ceiling. Tiles reflected the pure light that flooded the room, stinging her eyes. She turned her head to the side.
         The room was empty. Abandoned chairs were strewn across the floor, and a window to the side of her was smashed; glass scattered across the ground.
Looking down at herself, laying in a white-sheeted bed, she saw the bandages. They were stained red; binding her hands. Her right arm was placed in a cast in a sling hung round her neck, and she could barely feel her legs. Tentatively, she raised a hand and touched her head.
         A bolt of searing pain tore through her skull, and blood dripped onto the bed sheets.
The dizziness subsiding a little, she agonizingly peeled back the bed sheets and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Raising herself to her feet, she tried putting weight on them; gripping the bed as she felt her muscles give way slightly. She planted her feet in the floor and steadily let go of the bed.
         The cold tickled her bare legs--the hospital-gown barely covering her knees-- and she took in the room about her once more.
         A glass of crystalline water took place on a bed-side table; made of a similar white material. She bit her tongue. It certainly looked Okay...
         She frowned.
         She was in a presumed-hospital, she was bleeding left right and centre, and she'd just--
         She hesitated. What had just happened to her?
         She shook her head; either way, this wasn't a time for caution. Or it was the time for complete caution and she should arm herself with whatever weapon she could make. Her eyes slipped to the shattered glass on the floor. She raised an eyebrow.
         And then something hit her. Blood drained from her face.
         Why the fuck is the glass on the inside?
         Eyes fixed on the shards, she blindly reached a hand out to the cup; head snapping to her hand as she felt something slide out of her hand, numb skin tensing as the slicing pain flooded through her veins. Looking down, she saw a drip-needle handing, lifeless, by the drip-machine. She felt her stomach churn and she darted her hand out, grabbing the cup and swallowing its contents whole; slamming it back on the table as course dryness clawed at her throat.
         Gritting her teeth, she took sight of a slip of paper laying on the table-top. She picked it up slowly and read the scrappy writing scrawled across it.
         'Enjoy, Pantha.'
         It'd be my pleasure. She thought bitterly, tossing the paper aside and turning her attention to the door. She needed to get out of here.
         She took a single step. Her knees buckled. Blackness covered her vision.
Her head hit the white floor.

*

         A thick buzzing swamped her hearing, dissipating gradually as it was replaced with a low humming that grew in pitch till she could feel it vibrating on her face. It stopped.
A quiet, choked yipping ensued, dispersed with a sharp clicking. She tilted her head up from the floor.
         Before her stood two slim, pale legs. She drew her gaze upward, taking in the white-lace ankle socks and rosy-pink skirt flapping lazily in the gentle breeze.
         A child...The thought slipped into her head, but it didn't fit right. She let her eyes continue up the girl.
         A black, pin-stripe suit-jacket hung from a bony, skinny torso; a murky green and yellow tie shifting as the creature chittered and jiggled. She took in the face. Blood drained from her own.
         Stained yellow bone, smooth and carved. Two empty eye-sockets were staring down at her; one utterly and completely black, the other glowing a faint white. A frozen grin of pearly teeth chattered continuously, a popped giggling escaped it's mouth every so often.
It extended one arm to her, and her gaze fell to its hand. Tentacles wriggled uncontrollably, the same black-and-white as the suit. Something glittered amongst them, and it dropped; hitting the floor with a tinkling.
         Not breathing, her eyes slipped to the other arm. In other circumstances she'd have smirked, laughed, even. But here, now, she shivered.
         A polished, chrome spoon protruded from the folds of the suit's sleeve; the bowl of it larger than her head. She looked back up to the skull. Despite having no eyes, she knew where it was looking. She followed it's gaze to metal it had dropped on the floor.
         She felt ice course through her. She was laying on a thread-bare rug, the metal laying on dark mahogany floor-boards. This wasn't where she'd passed out. Someone had moved her.
         Daring to swallow, she reached a shaky hand out to the rectangle and lifted it up. She offered it to the jabbering creature before her.
         The grin, though fixed, turned quizzical. It pushed the tentacled-hand out to her, wrapping round her own hand and closing her fingers round the metal. She tentatively looked down at the shard of bronze. Writing was printed on it, reading 'Samantha Poldroy'.
         A frown took place involuntarily, and she looked to the creature's eye-sockets. The white light flared. She knew that name. She knew that she knew that name. But from where?
         The creature hiccupped again, then opened its shuddering grin. The voice that followed was as strangled and high as the laughter, and her heart started to pulsate. She'd heard that voice, too.
         "Nyeheh, you are not Pantha? Kekeh?"
         "It says 'Samantha'." She blurted the words out, bypassing her conscious mind entirely. She immediately widened her eyes and put a hand to her mouth as the Creature's gaze intensified.
         "Kekeh, you..." It's voice trailed off, still chattering, and the face softened with what was undoubtedly sadness. She felt an inexplicable pang in her heart that sliced through tense panic slowly brewing inside her. Then something struck her.
         One thing she did remember was the card by the water.
         The person who wrote that also said Pantha. She hesitated before speaking.
         "Are...are you the one who gave me the water?" Her voice was painfully weak, almost drowned in the jabbering of the creature.
         It looked down at her, and she could feel the frown that it couldn't make. "Nyeheh, water?"
         She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. If the thing didn't know what she was talking about, then it couldn't be the one who gave it to her. She felt her chest tighten once more, panic rising in her throat. She had to get out.
         Her blood running ice, she forced her voice to be stronger. "Who--who are you?"
         If the creature wasn't despondent before, it was now. Something black and viscous sparkled by its eye-sockets. The fixed grin suddenly looked forced. "Nyeheh, My name, kekeh, is Mr. Jenni."
         Her face fell. Sick rose in her throat. That name. It sent words pouring through her mind, emotions she didn't know she felt coursing through her veins, and one other thing. Relief.
         Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed hard; fighting the lump that swelled in her throat. But it wasn't terror.
         Mr. Jenni... She rolled the word in her mind a few times. Then, inexplicably, she suppressed a smile. That thing was creepy, evil and utterly, utterly terrifying, but there was no denying how he made her feel. He just made her want to snigger.
         Salty lemonade.
         A giggling yap jolted her from her thoughts and she realised who she was with. A skeletal man in a skirt. She didn't know this man. This sick man with no eyes, with tentacled-hands and a spoon. This man who wasn't a man.
         This thing made her nauseous. Made her want to claw her own eyes out. Made her...
         She closed her eyes. Makes me feel safe...
         She may not know who she was, where she was, why she was, or what she was, for that matter, but she did know two things. Two utterly undeniable things.
         This creature, Mr. Jenni, knew who she was. And the other thing she couldn't remember.
* * *
         Mr. Jenni watched her intently. She'd passed out right there on the rug, and for that brief moment - as he carried her to the bed - he'd thought it was like before. It was stupid, stupid, stupid for him to have thought that. She didn't know him. She didn't remember.
         He felt something wet and thick slide down his face and raised his tentacles to the liquid. Pulling it away, he saw the black gunk covering them. He stood motionless, just staring down at the liquid; no thoughts swirling in his skull. He couldn't think, he couldn't move.
         A knock at the door snapped him from his trance. He floated over to it, the black fog of his feet unusually viscous, and placed a tentacle round the knob. He hesitated. He couldn't afford anyone to know she was here; humans weren't allowed.
         "Kekeh, name?"
         A low chuckle seeped through the wood and Jenni heard something press its head against it.
         "Jenni, Jenni, Jenni. You can't avoid me forever. Just let me in, please?" It spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in its mouth. Mr. Jenni dithered. Reluctantly, he let the door swing open. A cloud of writhing dust floated in.
         Planting itself on the floor, the dust dissipated; replaced with a creature of simple black lines and an oval head. A scowl had taken place. They may have been friends, but Missy was the last person he wanted to see right now. She could see right through him.
Mr. Jenni turned his back to her and floated back to the bed to watch over Samantha. Missy sighed.
         "What happened." It wasn't a question. Mr. Jenni remained silent; even the omnipresent chattering of his teeth had ceased.
         A hand tentatively gripped his arm and he met her gaze. She stared intently into both eyes for some time. Finally, she spoke with what was barely a hoarse whisper.          "You've been crying."
         Swallowing, he yanked his tentacled-arm from her hand and wiped away the black substance still drying on his cheek. He turned away, muttering, "Kekeh, I haven't been crying..."
         Missy reached out and dipped her finger in the dark gloop on his skull. "Tears. Jenni, you never cry..."
         He didn't reply, instead turning back to the girl still sleeping on the bed. Missy followed his gaze.
         "Who's your human?"
         He breathed deep, and resumed his chinking of teeth. "Kekeh, Pantha." He felt Missy's scowling-eyes widen. Panic immediately covered her face.
         "Pantha from the Overworld? Jenni we can't keep her; you know what happened last time! Oh my Gods oh my Gods--"
         The girl stirred. They stared at her.
         A forced groan slipped from her mouth, and she covered her face with her arm. Softly, quietly, Mr. Jenni stroked her arm with the tip of his spoon-hand.
         "Nyeheh, Pantha?"
         Samantha's eyes flickered open. They settled on him and, for just a moment, she smiled. Just as Mr. Jenni felt his grin turn slightly happy for the first time since he found her again, her eyes bulged and a strangled gasp escaped her mouth. Her frantic expression turned to Missy.
         He dropped his gaze to the bed sheets. See? Stupid. She'd never want to remember him. No one could love him; their whole time together had been false.
His head snapped up as she started to speak. There was no trace of her fear. Instead, there was anger.
         "You're a stick man." She was glaring at Missy. Missy was glaring at her.
         "And your name's Pantha."
         The girl rose her eyebrows. "It says 'Samantha' on the metal and I'm not Samantha."
         Mr. Jenni looked at her. He didn't want to join in but... "Kekeh, you've always let me call you Pantha..."
         She gave him a look of complete and utter disbelief. "I don't know you." She hissed; teeth bared like a savage animal. Missy smirked and leaned over to him.
         "I say we let Olek have her. Y'know, for his 'wild ways'."
         "Nyeheh, she's not a pet." He shook his head and floated over to the bed-side table; retrieving a cup of red liquid.
         Missy grimaced. "Oh come on Jenni. You can't think like them; they belong on a leash. Speaking of which," She raised an eyebrow. "I think she'd get in a lot of trouble being in this room. No humans allowed, right?"
         Mr. Jenni ignored her and offered the cup to Samantha. She waved him away.
"Um, OK so if I'm not allowed to be here..." She spoke slowly, challenge sparkling in her eyes. "What are you going to do about it?"
         Missy's eyes gleamed. "Bitch, you do not wanna know."
         There was a rapping at the door, and Mr. Jenni glared at the two of them. Slowly, he floated over and let it open. Before him stood a human. The only difference was the crumbling skin; something akin to bark. His eyes fell on Samantha, now upright on the bed.          He snarled.
         "You. You're out," He jabbed a finger into Mr. Jenni's chest. "We told you; no humans." He shot daggers at Samantha. "And put a leash on that thing."
         He slammed the door.
         Jenni stared at Missy; dejection smothering his skull. "Kekeh, you told him."
Missy opened her mouth in protest. "I was here the whole time!"
         He shook his head and floated over to Samantha. "Nyeheh, we have to leave, kekeh. You think you can walk?"
         Her face remained flat. "I'm not coming with you."
         Missy chuckled and shook her head. Samantha stared at her degradingly.
         "Pantha, you'll be killed if you go out by yourself." She smiled sarcastically as Samantha riled.
         "I'd rather be dead than with you."
         Missy grinned. "That can be easily arranged."
         "Stop." His voice was quiet but they fell silent. He turned his depressed grin to Samantha. "Pantha, please, kekeh. You have to come...you have to remember me, kekeh."
         She shook her head. "I'm not your Pantha."
         Mr. Jenni dropped his gaze to the mahogany floor. The light in his white eye gently fizzling out. In the suddenly deafening silence, he said one thing. "Salty Lemonade."
         The door exploded.