TRASH - Act 1: The Spinner

For some reason, Corian couldn’t bring himself to sleep, and being awake for days on end didn’t prove to be as hindering as he’d first thought.

The wagon had stopped for quite some time now. But through the thick blankets Inprobus had bolted to every window, Corian had quickly lost track of the time of day. It was measured in erratic stops, without sight or sound to help him. Normally, the morning birds would act as a count for the number of days he had been in his position, but the forest life refused to sing around his father, even when he was a child.

Still, they had been stopped for what seemed like hours. It was likely safe.

He reached under his back, pulling out the single object that had fed his boredom and tethered his sanity. A pebble. No larger than the tip of his thumb, and far from perfect or attractive. The gift had likely been lodged in a soldier’s boot, and he was thankful it had been missed by the new recruits who were occasionally tasked with sweeping the space.

He balanced the small rock on the back of his thumb, flicking it so it sailed into the air and barely missed the roof of the wagon. It came sailing back down, bouncing off his forehead and rolling off the right side of his head.

He smiled. It hadn’t struck the ceiling, and he got a bullseye. One point.

He grabbed the pebble, posing for another shot when a voice greeted him.

“Corian.”

He shot up, looking around the dark space with wide eyes. Sure he felt fine after being awake for days on end, but that didn’t mean there weren’t going to be side effects. Like hearing voices.

“Corian.”

He held his breath, looking around urgently as the voice seemed to emanate from somewhere inside, but the cage was eerily empty.

“Corian, sweet face.”

He finally clicked in on the voice, the panic melting to irritation as he shuffled over to a small circular hole in the corner of the carriage, too small for him to squeeze through; not that he wanted to use a toilet as his means of escape anyways. As he peeked over the rim he locked gazes with Quibbis’ yellowed eyes, greeted by the usual stitched grin as he snickered.

“Oh my, you found me darling.”

Corian slowly drew away from his sight, hugging his knees with a bored sigh as he stared at the wall. Quiet scraping shuffles came from his right, but he wasn’t in the mood to try and watch Quibbis fit through the toilet, despite his round head getting stuck before his shoulders could even have a go at breaking physics.

“You don’t fit.” Corian watched his arms flail around like a spider stuck on its back, grabbing his hand and catching a glimmer of hope in Quibbis’ eyes before ripping off one of his fingers and tossing it in the corner. A couple specks of crushed dry leaves and grass trickled out of the appendage as it made its journey across the wagon. Perhaps the most disturbing thing about Quibbis was the way he had been made. In his father’s words, muscle and bone were a waste of magic, when a body moved fine with just the skin.

Corian greeted Quibbis’ pout with a cold glare. “Use the door sock puppet.”

Quibbis let off a defeated hum, pulling his arms down and popping the top half of his head through to give Corian a childish glare. “That was my favourite finger… aside from… well you know.” He chuckled at Corian’s disgusted sigh. “My pinky, I like my left pinky more.” His voice trailed off as he crawled out from underneath the wagon and jingled with the lock on the door.

The wagon filled with light when he got the door open, drawing a hiss of pain out of Corian when the light assaulted his eyes. Despite his displeasure, Quibbis left it wide open as he stomped over to the corner his finger had landed in. Corian had tried to escape at least three times now by exploiting Quibbis’ lack of security, but his memory was a bit fuzzy on the real number after the number of arrows Rikka had planted in the back of his head.

Quibbis brushed off his detached finger, his stitches stretching with a frown. “That wasn’t very nice, sweet face.” His entertainment returned as Corian fed him with silence. “Are you breathing? You do know you don’t have to-”

“Go away and bug one of the guards,” Corian growled, burying his face in his knees to try and sleep again. There was a tiny shuffle of Quibbis’ robes, not enough for him to have reached the door, and the amplification of his rotting stench gave away his position.

Corian locked onto him with an irritated scowl as he sat inches from his face, the hostile silence returning while Quibbis chuckled.

“You’re even cuter when you’re angry, sweet face!”

Corian sighed, shifting his position to lie down and face the wall. Ignoring Quibbis was the best way to get rid of him, right next to screaming for help; but that attracted his father without fail.

Quibbis poked Corian’s cheek with his detached finger, trying a few more attempts for a reaction that wasn’t coming. He sighed, sitting back and pulling some spare string and a needle out of his boot, casually sewing his finger back on while whistling a cheery tune. When he finished his work with a little bow tie he rested his gaze upon Corian again. “Are you hungry, little ghouly?”

Corian couldn’t help but get up to inspect the source of the wet splat behind him, looking at the chunk of meat and Quibbis’ ecstatic smile with a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” Quibbis poked the chunk of meat as Corian’s disgusted expression remained strong. “It’s fresh bristleback, hasn’t been in my pocket long.”

Corian looked away with a sigh, his response a forced mutter of embarrassment that Quibbis couldn’t catch with the lack of red on his face. “I’m a vegetarian…”

The longest pause fell over the two, followed by a high-pitched squeal as Quibbis tried to hold in his laughter with a blank expression, but the dam broke with spitting cackles as his eyes pooled over with tears and he held his stomach while falling to his back. Corian allowed the scene to continue as he stared at Quibbis with a defensive frown.

“It’s not that funny…”

“Oh, sweet face! Yes it is! Your father is unfathomably cruel!” Quibbis elevated his moderate laughter to asinine cackles. “It’s a good thing I don’t have to breathe either! I’ll be doing this all day!”

Corian cursed under his breath at the drumming footsteps that came closer, a large shadow taking the wagon as Inprobus marched through, immediately cutting Quibbis’ laughter short as the necromancer jumped to his feet to stand like a soldier. “No attempts at escape Pr-Inprrobus!”

Inprobus’ mouth twitched in disgust. “I know. I don’t recall asking you to watch him.”

“Well, you didn’t tell me not to.” Quibbis quickly ducked away from a dagger Inprobus threw at him, chuckling timidly.

“Speak only when instructed to, puppet.” He scoured the room, his brow permanently scrunched in disgusted malice as the chunk of meat grabbed his attention. “So you fed him?” Before Quibbis opened his mouth he lifted his finger. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Yes, it was. There was clearly a question mark behind it.” Corian retorted, his cocky smile quickly fading as Inprobus dug a glare into him.

“It was rhetorical.”

“You could’ve just spared this pointless conversation by going, so you fed him. You know that, right?”

Inprobus’ lip twitched at the retort, and he held his open palm out to the necromancer. “Dagger.”

Corian tensed up in fear as Quibbis tugged the dagger out of the wall and hurriedly placed it in his palm. He felt his fingers instinctively curl up as he hid his face, expecting some sort of pain to follow suit.

Inprobus chuckled at the sight, slipping the blade back into its sheath. “I was going to feed you anyways, I suppose Quibbis has done my job for me.” Inprobus continued, kicking the chunk of meat closer to Corian. “Feel free to eat it, the dead don’t catch illnesses.”

Quibbis cleared his throat with a very quiet “Sir…”, shrinking away as he faced Inprobus’ burning glare. “Small problem...”

“Spit it out.”

“Oh no… I didn’t bite someone’s nose off again.” He pointed at Corian. “He’s a-” Quibbis couldn’t compose himself, bursting into laughter again. “Did you… Did you know he was a vegetarian?”

Inprobus looked at Corian with a suppressed smile. “You’re not a vegetarian.”

“Actually, I am, skathead.”

“Not anymore.” Inprobus turned back to Quibbis who was still cackling. “Seal your mouth before I carve out your vocal cords.”

“I’m not eating that.” Corian grabbed the meat and tossed it in the potty hole. He turned his gaze from his father so he didn’t have to see the cold glare he was likely wearing. “I’m dead, it’s not like I have to eat anyways.”

“What will you eat then?”

“Bread.” Corian jumped in surprise at his father’s compliance as a slightly hardened chunk of bread dropped at his feet.

He stopped himself from grabbing it when his father crouched down, panic swelling in his chest as he held Inprobus’ gaze. He grabbed the piece of bread, pressing it into Corian’s hand with an unnerving smile. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Corian hesitantly stared at the bread, obeying Inprobus’ prompting nod and taking a small bite. He kept himself from grimacing at the tangy backtaste, chewing through the stale morsel and painfully swallowing it.

“Well? How is it?” Inprobus mused. “Good?”

Corian wordlessly nodded, taking another bite to sell the lie.

“Glad to hear it,” Inprobus replied, smacking the crumbs off his glove. He stopped, his eyes drawn to the small pebble a few of the specks had fallen on. With a suppressed smile he grabbed the small stone, pocketing it.

Corian kept his dismay from reaching his face, knowing full well his father was probing for a reaction. After a couple painful seconds, he got up, skimming the ground for any more objects before shooting Corian an empty smile. “It’s rather grimy in here, I’ll get a cleaner in.”

Quibbis went to speak, simply staring at Corian munching on the snack with escalating worry as Inprobus grabbed the back of his cloak and dragged him out of the wagon to leave Corian in peaceful silence.