TW: Cannibalism, Yogscast Complete Pack

The Hat trio didn't know how to react when they came home to the Hat Shack at midnight, drenched in dust and dirt with scrapes littering their bodies. As well as this, Smith had a half healed arrow wound in his left shoulder, but it had got to the stage that it no longer caused him any pain. Ross was limping heavily and using the shorter Trott as a support. Trott was still dripping wet after tumbling off a ledge and into the pool of water below him.

The first thing they did was clamber down the ladder to where their beds were, but Ross first went to check on Crystal and Chastity while the other two emptied the contents of their rucksacks into a chest – fuck sorting it. He peered through the hole he had carved in their holding cells and leaned in closer when he failed to locate either of them. As soon as he did so, a rotten smell entered his nostrils and he felt the need to be sick. And he was sick when he found the two dryads. Both of them had been torn apart. They were missing clumps of flesh from their delicate frames, but their beautiful faces were still perfectly constructed, their typically innocent stares turned his way. He screamed when he met their eyes; they were still alive.

He immediately felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him away from the bloodshed. Smith called out to him as he screamed and rocked back and forth, a trail of vomit down his front.

"Smith, what the fuck's he playing at? Ross!" Trott snapped, coming out of one of Ross' 'wombs' with a concerned stare aimed their way. "Has something happened?" He started to walk towards Chastity and Crystal's enclosed pen, but Smith caught his hand before he passed.

"Don't look in there. It's not pretty," the green man warned, and he did look a little flushed himself; his eyes were glazed over and he was taking slow, deep breaths to control his own stomach. "I don't know what happened. How this happened."

Ross gasped angrily. "I don't know. They've been completely torn apart. There's blood and guts all over that place, but there's no way anyone could get in there without leaving a step behind. But... they're alive in there, Smith. Eaten alive, and they had to sit there and scream for whatever it was to stop." He broke off, heaving though nothing came out, and Smith had to tighten his hold on Ross to prevent him from bolting.

"Shhh... It's alright, Ross. Whatever it was that did this... it's gone now. You're going to be alright. I promise," he reassured gently, using his free arm to draw Trott closer, and the three sat in the middle of the floor, rocking back and forwards.

Just five feet away from Lalnable Hector. He'd returned for another feed. "Well this is sweet, isn't it? I almost don't want to interrupt, but I'm hungry, and I'm back for more," he smirked, baring his bloodstained teeth. He took several long strides towards them, stopping mere inches away from them.

Ross whimpered a little more, but Smith shushed him and tightened his grip on his two friends. He lifted himself to his feet and dragged them with him, keeping an arm around each of their chests. "What do you want? Duncan, is everything alright? I always knew you were a bit of a weird fuck, but I didn't realise it went to the extent of cannibalism. I suppose you did this, then?"

Lalnable didn't seem to care too much that he was being insulted – he was too busy licking his lips at the quivering men. "You know me; I can't resist the taste of dryad. It's just so... fresh and clean... It's beautiful. Here, have a try." He reached his hand in the window of the cage and scooped up a handful of the bloody flesh from the floor. His hand hovered over Chastity for a moment too long, and Smith began to growl.

The bloody pile appeared in front of Ross' face, and he threw himself out of Smith's arms to heave again. "Please, don't! Please leave!" he whimpered miserably in between violent heaves. His eyes were tearful, his voice hysterical, and he seemed to be hyperventilating a little bit. Lalnable almost pitied him – the human side of him did.

"Come on, Ross. Hold it together. You're the one with the head for heights," smirked the cannibal, crouching next to Ross and holding his shoulder with a bloody hand. He seemed satisfied as he squeezed the muscular body tighter. "Mmm... A nice amount of meat for me, there. Well done!"

Smith held onto Trott tighter to stop both of them from running forwards to Ross' aid. "He's losing weight by the second, he's so fucking terrified. Leave the poor bastard alone," he snarled furiously, locking eyes with the architect.

Lalnable Hector licked his lips, moved them near to Ross' ear and nibbled lightly on it. He made a strange purring noise that made him somehow more threatening than ever before. They'd all heard stories about the clone gone wrong, but it was frightening to actually come face-to-face with him without any kind of bulletproof glass. He listened carefully to every breath they took, then pulled Ross to his feet, holding him up when his knees wobbled. "Shh... It's alright, Hatters. It'll all be over soon, I promise," he whispered, his voice breathy and frightening.

Trott pushed himself away from Smith and looked up at Lalnable Hector nervously but bravely. "What do you want? You've already devoured our dryads – our lovers, you sick fuck! – so what more can you want? Have you come to boast about their deaths, how they screamed and writhed as you tore great chunks of flesh from their frail bodies? Have you come to torture us with gruesome descriptions of how they tasted, how they smelled?"

"Very poetic, Trottimus. A really magnificent being, you are; a walrus who, through sheer determination, developed opposable thumbs and the ability to think and speak," Lalnable commented.

"Actually, I was created this way through a mixture of science on the behalf of Lalna – the real one – and magic," the walrus corrected coldly. His beady eyes appeared threatening and afraid at the same time, but his bravery seemed to get the better of him. He used his Atomic Disassembler to hit Lalnable across the head, and the cannibal wavered for a second before regaining himself.

His bloody canines sank into Ross' forearm rather than Trott's, and when the man screamed, he pushed himself away, then went for Chris. "You try to fight, and you'll suffer. It's a shame, really; a trio like you can always be my slaves, my apprentices. But I don't stand for disobedience, and it seems like you, Trottimus, are just that. And that, I cannot allow," he explained politely, then used an impossibly strong arm to pin Trott to the wall of the dryads' holding cell.

Smith called out to the others. "No, please! Leave them alone! We'll be your slaves, your jesters... whatever!" he pleaded desperately, his blue eyes shining with tears that had yet to fall. But the only response he received was a low growl that terrified them all – Ross' painfilled screams died down to a whimper of fear. Smith wished he could go to his aid, but Lalnable and Trott stood between them, the hostage by this point barely responsive no matter how many times Smith called out to him.

"It'll all be over soon, Chris. Your respiratory system is shutting down, your blood pumps slower than is healthy, and your body is going into shock. I say you have a few minutes left at most, unless your friends can somehow give you a blood transfusion while they are a part of my feast," Lalnable whispered darkly, squeezing the open wounds to allow more bloodflow for him. Trott whimpered a little, weakly, and even a noise as small as that caused him pain somehow.

In a sudden movement, Lalnable threw Trott on top of Ross and started to gag. "What is that foul taste? Are you trying to poison me?" he snarled, fresh blood pouring from between his lips and onto the ground, some of it falling onto the toes of his rubber boots. With the blood on his labcoat, he looked like a true serial killer. "What is this witchcraft?"

Smith began to laugh hysterically, and that gave the traumatised architect a fright. "I knew Ridgedog was onto something when he gave us those potions. He told us to prepare for something, because something had escaped and we were all in danger," he chuckled, moving towards Lalnable, who looked weaker now he was on his knees in a pile of vomit. "I know what he meant now. I think Lewis and Ridge were looking for you. You need to be back in your cage."

Quietly, Trott groaned and pulled himself away from Ross, allowing his friend to curl into a foetal position away from everyone else. "Smith, you and Ross watch him. I'm going to fly over to Hole Diggers and tell them we've found Lalnable. They'll probably want him back in his cage, or whatever they kept him in."

"Please, don't send me back there. I don't want to go back, Alex. They hurt me there, and I don't want that to happen anymore. Don't make me go back," Lalnable pleaded pathetically, tearfully, his entire body trembling. His eyes were dark and afraid, and he looked human for the first time since his creation.

None of them hesitated – they felt like it was just a trap, and it probably was. "I don't care about any of your crap, Lalnable. You killed Chastity and Crystal, and you nearly killed us. Why should we have any sympathy for you at all, and not just kill you now?" Trott snarled, looking down at the pathetic clone with disgust, kicking him to the ground angrily. He chuckled a little when Lalnable tried to crawl away, and went to grab him by the collar. But a bloody hand grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him to the same level.

Smith smacked him on the back of the head and knocked him out, pulling Trott back towards him. "Don't be an idiot. Fetch Lewis and Ridge before he wakes up. I need to take care of Ross, then we'll have a look at your arm. And hurry up, will you?" he warned Trott carefully, kneeling next to the quivering heap that was Ross.

Trott nodded and flew up the ladder and out of their base. He floated across the nearby village – the one which had been ravaged in a mysterious attack, and he wasn't sure if it had been Lalnable or some other equally dangerous creature, but he hoped he never found out. He could see the Hole Diggers in the distance, and he flew as quickly as he could, refusing to succumb to the agony which he was experiencing.

"Lewis! Lewis, it's an emergency!" he screamed when he reached their island but couldn't see them. "It's Lalnable, he's at our base, and he tried to kill us! We have him there, but I think it's very important you return him to his rightful prison!"

There was rustling behind him, and he saw Lewis and Duncan shuffle out of their small house next to the pier. Both looked exhausted and frantic at the same time. "Lalnable?" Duncan went weak at the knees, he shuddered, his breathing quick, and Lewis caught his elbow to slow his fall.

"Wait here, friend. Ridge and I will deal with him ourselves. It's nothing you have to concern yourself with, I assure you," the spaceman smiled reassuringly, but it didn't take a mind reader to be able to tell he was just as frightened as Trott was. "Trott, we have to get to Hat Corp. quickly. I'll contact Ridge on the way over."

They took off back the way he had come, Lewis chattering on his headset to the demigod, who promised to meet them there. Only when they fell quiet did Lewis actually ask Trott what had happened. And so he explained, in excruciating detail, everything they had experienced in the past hour, starting with Ross' discovery of the devoured dryads. As he spoke, Lewis grimaced in sympathy. "I'm sorry he found you. We should have kept an eye on the security better, and then he would never have escaped. I'll have a look at your arm when Ridge takes Lalnable away. Are the others hurt?"

Trott nodded. "Ross has a missing chunk, and I think he's in shock. Smith is alright, though. He told me he'd take care of Ross while I was away. That was probably for the best; he needed someone calm, not someone who was bleeding out in front of him," he explained miserably. By this point, they could see the Hat Corp. sign Ross had constructed so well. They powered through, and when they landed, Ridge was already there, looking nervous and twitchy.

He caught Trott by the arm before he could go in. "Don't go in there, Trott. It's for the best," he warned sadly, refusing to meet the walrus's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What? What's happened? Ridge, I don't care if you're fucking Zeus – let me in there right now! They're my friends!" Trott snapped, fighting to get in, but Lewis stepped in front of the door with his arms folded. "Please, Lewis!"

Ridge swallowed deliberately. "Well, they're alive. Not so much of a blessing, I don't think. I'm so sorry, Chris," he grimaced, leading the other two down into the underground warehouse, and almost immediately, their senses were assaulted. In the area Trott had left Smith and Ross were two bloody bodies, one with green skin which had been dyed red. The floor around them was a filthy scarlet, and the only noises in the room were ragged breathing and quiet whimpering.

"Trott?" called a weak, tortured voice that was a shell of Smith's former self. But it was the most beautiful noise Trott had ever heard, and he ran to them, almost slipping on a puddle of blood that led to their secret entrance. He was sobbing by the time he reached them, sickened by the state they had been left in.

Smith had large chunks of flesh missing from both his arms, but a good doctor could fix that up just fine. He was trembling from blood loss, and his lips moved in a wordless conversation. Ross was worse. He had yet to even acknowledge Trott, and he was making noises that sounded like he was pleading for his life. His body was a mess of blood and bite marks, all of them shallower than Smith and Trott's, but they were everywhere, and he seemed terrified of everything.

"Is he gone?" Smith stuttered fearfully, letting Trott hold him carefully so as to ensure he didn't disturb any injuries.

"He escaped," Ridge told him, crouching between the three men while Lewis stood at the back trying not to be sick. "But that's alright, Alex. You did well, the three of you, and you're alive, and that's all I can ask for. I know some spells that can heal you right up, so don't worry about scars or anything like that. You'll all be as good as new."

Ross didn't react, nor did he even twitch. That was more frightening to Trott than the blood that covered every surface. The architect, normally so chatty, had reverted into a shadow of his former self, traumatised by the events they had been forced to endure. But when Trott reached for him, he whimpered. "Please, don't kill them," he mumbled, but relaxed a little into Trott's hand.

"I don't think he'll be okay for a while, but eventually. I don't care how long it takes, but we'll get over this. We'll help you," Lewis whispered to the three of them.

All of a sudden, Ross stood up and staggered over to the holding pen of the two dryads. He used his fist to punch the block holding them there until it broke, making his hand bleed in the process. But with easy access, he stepped over the threshold and just stood in the middle of the carnage, barely reacting to Ridge as he tried to lead him away. "Chastity and Crystal..." he slurred, then dead fainted into the demigod's awaiting arms.

"He'll be okay. You all will. Lalnable Hector won't get any of you again. He never strikes twice." But Lalnable Hector was still loose, and no one could relax until he was gone. No one could regain their sanity until safety truly existed.

Credit to aravenwood on Ao3