I really like the idea of a mad scientist who performs deeply unethical procedures on a test subject (with dubious consent) but who gives the subject comfort and a bit of autonomy not because they feel bad, but because they know the subject needs it. A mad scientist who lets the subject keep a stuffed animal or other comfort item, who lets the subject pick out different patterns or colors for gowns and caps, who keeps the subject awake during operations but lets the subject pick out music to listen to through it all.

They’re a mad scientist, not a monster.

Yes

"Ghnnn!" Whumpee cried out, Whumper slamming their body to the floor. They could barely see straight as Whumper tilted their head up to look them in the eyes.

"ooo, look at you-" Whumper began to say, but they were cut off by their own cronies.

"Whumper, Caretaker is here. With reinforcements." They said.

Whumpee's heart sang. Whumper on the other hand, snarled, hand fisting the front of their shirt, bringing them face to face.

"This facility is hidden. There is NO WAY Caretaker would've found us." They snarled, slamming Whumpee against the wall. "I'll ask you one time. What. Did. You. Do."

Good job Whumpee

Whump piece. (Part 2)

****

They were in the bathtub at home, people outside the bathroom were chatting, vague sounds of something being cooked could be heard. There were faces of others and yet they were alone in the bathroom, there were too-small and too-big bottles of shampoo, towels and cleaning supplies were floating in the air and yet at the same time stayed firmly in place. Was it dark or was it unbearably bright? They couldn’t tell for sure. The water was crystal clear, they could see their own legs perfectly. Were they wearing shorts? Why would they do that, who in their right mind bathes with clothes still on?

Then, they spotted something in the water, multiple somethings, green and reddish and whitish flecks of colour were moving there. The worms were quickly multiplying and spreading in the water, no matter how much they squirmed and tried to jump out of the bathtub. Then, the first few worms touched their bared skin and… started seeping underneath. They screamed and thrashed around, unable to leave the water, resulting only in more worms interacting with their skin. Someone behind the door laughed…

Whumpee jolted awake and abruptly sat up in bed, feeling sick to their stomach. They kicked away the duvet and frantically looked over themselves, their skin still itching in places where phantom worms disturbed it. Only after they were sure no other living creature was in bed except for them, Whumpee dared to slowly close their eyes again. Images of water and flecks of colour moving in it aroused in their mind…

A few moments later Whumpee was hovering over their sink, gagging. Their stomach was churning and they could feel something stuck in their throat. Whumpee heaved again, bringing nothing but bile and saliva. They winced at the burning sensation, taking a moment to take a shaky breath. Their eyelids were burning and they felt slightly lightheaded, a dull headache making itself known right behind their unfocused eyes. Whumpee squinted and slowly raised their head to look at their own reflection in the mirror, their knuckles going white from how hard they were gripping the edge of the sink. Oh, they didn’t feel well. Whumpee swallowed through the persistent nausea and breathed noisily through their nose. That unmistakable dull ache deep inside Whumpee’s joints made them frown and put the back of their hand to their forehead. Were they… feverish? With a groan Whumpee rubbed their eyes. Why them? Gods, and they were foolish enough to offend Caretaker earlier, now they will have to deal with this alone, and they didn’t want to, they are always miserable when sick, and they can’t function when they are miserable! Stupid! If only they filtered their comments…

With this grim train of self-hating thoughts Whumpee made their way to the kitchen, fumbling with the light switch for a second, then wincing as the sudden bright light made their irritated eyes hurt. They poured themselves a glass of water and took a few small sips, mindful of their lingering nausea.

Two full mugs of now cold chamomile tea were still standing on the table. The sight of them made Whumpee feel a new, very different type of pain in their stomach. For a split second they contemplated calling Caretaker to apologise, but then their eyes landed on the clock. Uh, perhaps four in the morning wasn’t the greatest time for such dialogues.

Whumpee sniffed and coughed, rubbing their aching chest. Right, they need to check their temperature first.

Eventually, after all the fussing and searching for the thermometer, Whumpee settled on the tiny couch in the kitchen (they didn’t feel up to going back to bed and awaiting worms, just not yet), a thermometer under their armpit and a blanket on their shoulders. They were mindlessly scrolling through some stuff on their phone, not actually reading or watching anything, just to have something to pass the time. When their eyes started burning and they started feeling nauseous from the flashy images, Whumpee sighed and put their phone away. After enough time had passed, they took the thermometer and squinted to see the tiny numbers. 37.9 degrees Celcium (100,22 degrees Fahrenheit). Hey, that’s not too bad, after all they had worse, Whumpee reassured themselves as they put the thermometer away.

The rest of the night they spent in a fitful sleep, half-sitting on the same couch as before, waking up a few times to a persistent cough they couldn’t shake off.

At about 8 am Whumpee was heading down the street to a nearest pharmacy. When they woke up, they quickly realised they felt worse than they did yesterday, the cough seemed to take a deep hold in their chest. Sadly, they also ran out of any cough medicine. So now, the only thing Whumpee could do to ease at least a little bit of their own misery was to put on two layers of clothes and a scarf big enough their face didn’t scare passerby. They suppressed another painful cough and rubbed their shoulders. They were starting to feel chilly… That fever was definitely rising.

Whumpee cursed their luck and, coughing in their hand, quickened their pace. Just a few more streets and they reached the pharmacy, they could surely do that. Right?

By the end of the route, Whumpee was stumbling, receiving side glances from the strangers who no doubt thought they were either drunk or high. They just… couldn’t get enough air. Now, Whumpee didn’t bother hiding their cough, they swayed and braced their arm against the nearest wall, doubling over. Whumpee’s lungs felt like they were on fire, and the coughs soon turned wet. They… they needed air, fast. Whumpee tried to gulp the air in between violent fits of coughing, but they couldn’t, and the panic started slowly seeping through their being. They felt tears welling up in their eyes, black spots were dancing in their vision. Numbness started spreading through Whumpee’s body as they tried and failed to get at least a little bit of precious air inside of their spasming lungs.

Then, there was movement in their vision, and suddenly they weren’t standing anymore. Whumpee felt a slight pang of pain as their head collided with the pavement, but the wave of numbness quickly swept over them. There were sounds, many sounds. And flecks of colour, red and blue, just like the worms in their dreams…

——————

P. S.: The worms Whumpee was dreaming about (A few types of planaria worm)

This was so good, part two of the recent stories

"Get. Up."

TW: implied potential death/starvation

Caretaker had been working with Whumper for just over five years; he knew how things operated and how he handled nuisances like Whumpee. So when Whumper asked Caretaker to transfer Whumpee, it really wasn't a big deal. They both knew where Whumpee was going.

And that's how Caretaker ended up with Whumpee on a chain as they trekked through the forest.

"Whumper couldn't have had you drive me there?" Whumpee huffed from behind.

"Why? Do you honestly think that you deserve a rest?" Caretaker didn't bother to look behind him as it had been going like this for quite some time.

"After all the shit Whumper has put me through, yeah, I do."

"'All the shit,' do you mean putting a roof over your head and making sure you were fed?"

"You think he fed me?"

Caretaker didn't bother answering Whumpee. He knew that Whumper would occasionally starve him, but in all honesty, it was hard to see Whumpee as anything more than some annoying prick.

"Can we at least stop?" The breathless question landed on deaf ears as Caretaker yanked on the chain in his hand.

"No."

Caretaker tried to walk forward but felt the chain snag back. When he turned, Whumpee was on the ground with the leaves.

"Get up, Whumpee. I want to get home before it's dark." Caretaker gave another hard yank on the chain, which just pulled on Whumpee's arms. "Get. Up. Unlike you, I actually have a place to go back to, okay?"

Whumpee didn't respond, not with his usual snark.

Caretaker waited for a second before approaching Whumpee, taking notice of how bruises had started to form on his arms from the chain.

"Whumpee." Caretaker shook his body, and Whumpee's eyes opened just a sliver.

"Oookay...okay." Caretaker dropped the chain as he reached for his phone to call Whumper. "Hey, Whumper?"

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"Whumpee is down in the forest right now...I don't know what's wrong with him. I promise I didn't do anything, he just-"

"Oh no Caretaker it's fine, I know."

"You know?"

"Yes...Whumpee got a bad wound this morning that why I needed to get rid of him. A toy is no fun while he's healing."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. If he refuses to stand, simply drag him. It'll make no difference; he'll be dead in a few hours."

Caretaker's heart dropped as he watched Whumpee turn his head into the dirt to conceal his tears.

"Okay. I'll make sure he gets there." Caretaker hung up the phone and put a hand on Whumpee's shoulder. "Listen, please get up. I really, really don't want to drag you."

A shaky breath left Whumpee, but he also gave no indication of standing up.

"Whumpee, please. Don't you want this to be over soon?"

At that, Whumpee turned his head to look up at Caretaker. His dirt-stained cheeks had tear tracks that went over his hollow cheek bones.

Caretaker left out a long sigh before lifting Whumpee in his arms and going back to the employee parking area.

"Where are you taking me?" Whumpee mumbled under Caretaker's chin

"I'm going to help you."

Nice

Whump Piece. (Part 1)

The too-bright artificial lights of staff’s bathroom burned Whumpee’s eyes even through their closed eyelids, as they leaned heavily against the pristine white sinks. They left their lab once all of the research reports started swimming in front of their bloodshot eyes, in hopes a quick splash of cold water would return them back to their usual self. Needless to say it didn’t, and a five minute break turned into a fifteen minute one. Gods, they had so much to do, they had to get themselves back together.

Whumpee sighed heavily, opened their eyes and straightened their back. Black spots were now dancing in from of them, a telltale sign of a rapid blood pressure drop. They swallowed loudly and grabbed the edge of the sink with white-knuckled grip. Wonderful, now they feel nauseous too. No, that way the report would never be done.

Fifteen more minutes later Whumpee was fumbling with their belongings and shooing away their concerned lab assistant.

Seven more minutes later they were leaning heavily against the wall of an (luckily) empty hallway, breathing hard through a new wave of nausea and going through the contacts on their phone with shaky hands. They hated what they were about to do, but, unfortunately there was only one person close enough to them, who could drive them home.

“Caretaker?” Whumpee croaked once the person on the other side took the phone call, “I need…”, they took a few shallow breaths and swallowed slowly, “…need you to drive me home…”

Whumpee didn’t remember what concerned answer they got exactly, nor did they remember how exactly did they get inside a car, heavily supported by someone else’s arms.

….

“You ruined my day off, you know that?”, Caretaker huffed as they caught swaying Whumpee once again and readjusted their firm grip on the latter.

“Didn’t have to pick up the phone call then,” Whumpee muttered in reply as they fumbled with their keys.

After they both entered the flat, Whumpee pushed Caretaker away weakly and clumsily took off their shoes. Caretaker followed suit and headed straight to the kitchen. They took a note of the relative neatness Whumpee kept their flat in, before unapologetically opening the fridge only to get mildly disappointed at the absence of its contents.

A few moments later Whumpee entered the kitchen, their work clothes changed to much more mundane t-shirt and sweatpants. The change of surroundings seemed to make them a bit more lively.

“But still, thanks to the big heart of yours, you were kind enough to come to my rescue and save me from my misery,” Whumpee added in a sarcastic voice as they watched how Caretaker goes through their cupboard as if they were at home.

“Oh yeah? I don’t even know why I’m the one caretaking you, it’s your job that’s connected with medical shit, not mine!”

“I’m a microbiologist…”

“Er, whatever, pay-check’s still just as bad,” they glanced around the room with a skeptical look, “I have no idea how you even managed to buy this flat, judging by your appearance you probably sold your kidney or something.”

Whumpee’s patched lips curled into a fake smile, “You see, my parents love me enough to satisfy my every whim, supporting me financially is a clear example. Unlike yours, I suppose.”

Oh, maybe in the end they did cross the line a little bit. Heavy silence followed the careless comment, only interrupted by a quiet ticking of the old clock. Caretaker has turned their head away, and yet Whumpee could still get a glimpse of their suddenly darkened gaze. The tension stood thick between the two of them, the seconds seemed to go by agonisingly slow. Finally, the silence was broken by a high-pitched whistle of a kettle. Caretaker stood up to pour the scalding water into two mugs and then threw two teabags into them, while Whumpee let out a sigh they didn’t even know they were holding. A mug of piping hot chamomile tea (was it really theirs? They didn’t even remember buying a package of one) appeared in front of them, and Whumpee took their time staring at the tiny chipped fragments of its rim, instead of looking into Caretaker’s eyes.

They only raised their head when they realised Caretaker didn’t sit back at the table, instead pulling their jacket off the back of the chair and hastily putting it on.

Whumpee sprung up from their own chair, an apology stuck in their throat, only to be immediately stopped by Caretaker’s cold gaze.

“I have to go,” they said I a dull voice, then turned their back to Whumpee and added, without looking at the latter, “Don’t think I truly care about you. It’s just a matter of keeping appearances.”

Whumpee stayed frozen in silence, even their front door closed shut. Stupid, they thought. Stupid, arrogant bastard. Family was a painful topic and they knew it well enough, why the hell didn’t they bite their own tongue in time?

Ooh, I really like this, and I have information that there may be a part 2. I'm hoping at least

"God. Fuck. Please don't d- Please stop-"

"Hm?"

The Doctor makes an incision. Precise. Sharp. The skin feels so impossibly thin. So easy to reach under. It's like drawing on paper.

"Jesus christ- Jesus fucking christ- Oh god-"

The Doctor reaches in. Rubber gloves against raw flesh, forearms covered in fresh blood. What a horrible texture.

The Patient is heaving in shock. On the inclined bed, he has no other choice but to look right at the wound gaping across his stomach. It moves with each gasp for air. Like a mouth. An orifice that was always meant to be there, moving in rhythm with the rest of the body.

"I forgot to get the retractors. But I reckon you could do the job, no?"

"What?"

"I'm going to loosen the restraints on your hands, so you can reach it."

"What-"

The Patient asks again, barely hearing the words over his own hitched breathing. The Doctor grabs his two wrists - completely unbothered by the blood smearing on them - and positions his hands over the wound.

"Hold that open for me, will you?"

His fingers are guided in place, forced to dig deep, while his arms are pulled apart slowly. Bright red viscera beneath the freshly opened layers. Like it has always wanted to be seen, glistening under the light.

"No, no, no- no, please don't- please I'm-"

"Sshh. Just hold it there. Keep it open."

"No- no- I can't-"

Not feeling the pain might even be more terrifying. Only the view remains. And the sounds. The stomach-turning smell of his own blood. His fingers, clamped in place by complete shock. And the growing cold, slowly seeping into his whole trembling body.

That was wonderful

Roadkill.

Roadkill by @weirdthingweee :)

Comfort whump... contains child Whumpee.

Caretaker had just sat down when their phone vibrated.

Their dog looked up at them curiously as Caretaker read the text.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late, and you can say no. Is there any way Whumpee might be able to come see your dog for a few minutes. They unfortunately are struggling again, and can't sleep. They said saying hi to Ozzie would make them feel better. Again I completely understand if you don't want to", the text read from Caretaker's neighbor.

"Of course, hold on though", Caretaker quickly replied, "don't get them out of bed."

"Come on Ozzie", Caretaker hurried to the door.

Their neighbor had already opened the door when Caretaker was half way across the yard.

"You didn't have to come over, I'm sorry for being a bother" the father sighed.

"It's not a bother. If a visit with Ozzie will help Whumpee, I am more than happy to oblige", Caretaker grinned, "so Whumpee is having another flare-up?"

"Yes, they just can't get warm. Severally uncomfortable", the father explained, "my wife was dealing with this all morning, then I got home from work and relieved her", the father sighed tiredly.

"Have the doctors figured anything out yet?", Caretaker watched Ozzie sneak into the house, "sorry."

"That's alright", the father grinned, "I think they know where their going. The doctors are still not sure", they sighed, "I feel like we've been in a maze. Every possible answer has just led to a blocked exit."

Giggles could be heard from down the hall.

"I think Ozzie found Whumpee", Caretaker grinned.

"I think so", the father nodded with a grin.

They walked down the hall to Whumpee's room.

"Ozzie, you're not supposed to be in the bed"- Caretaker sighed.

"They came in and jumped up here" Whumpee excitedly looked up.

"I'm sorry", Caretaker turned to the father.

"That's alright", they grinned, "I'm happy to hear some giggles."

"They feel so warm", Whumpee sighed in relief.

The father sighed, "that's been a big part of this flare up. We have several blankets on Whumpee, plus the heat is turned up. We can't keep them warm. There are other problems of course, but they're shivering non stop has been tiring."

"Yes, that takes a lot out of the body", Caretaker nodded.

Whumpee hugged Ozzie, then started to pet them.

"They can only stay for a few minutes. It's late, and you need to sleep. As does Caretaker and Ozzie", the father watched as Whumpee seemed to be getting comfortable.

"You need your rest too", Caretaker glanced at the father, "I wouldn't mind staying up with them. I wasn't doing anything tonight, and I'm off work tomorrow. It's not a problem."

"I couldn't ask you to do that", the father looked down, "that's too much to ask."

Caretaker held the father's shoulder, "when was the last time you got some good rest?"

"A... long time ago", the father admitted.

"You've been working hard at work, then coming home and working hard", Caretaker frowned, "I have helped your wife with watching Whumpee a few times already. I don't mind helping out. That way Whumpee can have Ozzie keep them warm as well."

The father watched as Whumpee's eyes grew heavy.

"Are you certain?", the father looked at Caretaker with a worried face, "you don't have to do this."

"I'm certain Caretaker nodded. I'm happy to stay up with them", Caretaker smiled as Whumpee's eyes closed, "plus I think Ozzie had just gotten them warmed up enough to sleep."

The father smiled weakly, "they haven't slept at all the last few days."

"And neither have you. It's a lot of work to support your family, and you're doing a great job doing that", Caretaker smiled, "let me take this off your plate for tonight."

After another reluctant moment Caretaker finally managed to usher the father out of the room.

They could hear the father explaining to Whumpee's mom, and then the neighboring bedroom went silent.

Caretaker sat down next to the bed.

They pressed a damp cloth along Whumpee's forehead to help with the fever.

Ozzie watched Caretaker sit back.

"Shh", Caretaker pressed their finger against their lips.

Ozzie rested their head on Whumpee's chest.

Whumpee smiled and petted Ozzie in their sleep a few times before their hand rested again.

"Poor child", Caretaker whispered as they wrung out the damp cloth in the water bowl, "no sickness is easy, but childhood illness is so cruel", Caretaker dabbed the cloth on Whumpee's forehead again, then wiped the corners of Whumpee's mouth.

"Momma?", Whumpee whispered weakly after a few hours.

Caretaker leaned up quickly.

"Hey Whumpee, it's me Caretaker. I'm right here."

Whumpee sobbed quietly, "I don't feel good."

"I know, and I'm sorry", Caretaker rubbed Whumpee's head, "do you want a drink of water?"

Whumpee nodded, then sniffled.

Caretaker held them up as Whumpee sipped.

"There you go", Caretaker recovered Whumpee with the blankets.

"Does Ozzie ever get sick?", Whumpee blinked slowly.

"He has a few times. There was one time he swallowed one of my socks. He was a puppy, I had to hurry him into the doggie doctor for help", Caretaker smiled.

Whumpee giggled, "Ozzie, you ate a sock?"

Ozzie wagged their tail happily and licked at Whumpee.

"He sure did", Caretaker smiled, "he's a silly doggie."

Whumpee giggled playfully.

Caretaker smiled as they wiped Whumpee forehead again with the cloth.

"It feels nice when you do that", Whumpee smiled.

"I'm glad" Caretaker grinned, "I'm glad it comforts you. How about we try to get some more sleep now."

Whumpee nodded, before letting a yawn start.

The sun was peaking through Whumpee's curtain when the father came into Whumpee's room.

"Wow, they're still asleep", the father marveled.

"Yes", Caretaker whispers as they nod, "I think their fever is breaking. They're sweating like crazy, and the congestion sounds a little looser."

Whumpee's mom came in.

"You said it's breaking?", she hurried to Whumpee's bedside.

Caretaker nodded, as they wiped the sweat up.

Whumpee squinted their eyes open.

"Momma?"

"Yes baby, I'm right here", their mom squeezed their hand and kissed it, "everything is alright."

"I feel wet. Did I just go swimming or something?", Whumpee tiredly looked around, "is that Ozzie?"

"Yes, Ozzie came and visited you last night", Caretaker smiled, "do you remember?"

"No, not really", Whumpee petted Ozzie's head, "I'm glad he did though. Papa, can we get a dog."

"Maybe after we get your health back", the father nodded with tears down their face, "though, I must admit I am thankful for Caretaker and Ozzie's help."

The mom wiped her eyes and nodded.

"That's what neighbors do", Caretaker grinned up at both of them, "we help out when we can."

The mom wrapped her arms around Caretaker in a hug, "I'm so thankful for you and Ozzie."

Caretaker patted her arm gently, "you're welcome."

"You're such a good boy Ozzie", Whumpee's father patted Ozzie's head, "thankyou so much for sharing your warmth."

I know I had said I would be taking a break from writing, but sometimes, when you're sad, the best thing to do is your favorite thing. For me, that's writing.

This story is inspired by my own dog Sargent. A few years ago, I had gotten really sick. I couldn't get warmed up no matter what. Sargent always knew when something was wrong: mentally, emotionally, physically. He was always there.

After a while, Sargie ended up jumping on the couch and tucking himself into the blankets with me. We slept together for hours. He was so warm.

That is still a great memory in my mind, and that is the exact reason, even though it was painful, I did not leave him while he took his last breath. I was told today that the way I am mourning him seemed unhealthy. Sarge was more than just a dog to me, I won't let his memory fade. He was here, and he was alive. He still lives on in my heart. I will mourn his physical loss the way I see fit.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galatic-worm

@starmoon-constellation @bacillusinfection

Second part of taglist

@whumpsandbumps @tobiasbones

@octopus-reactivated @string-of-broken-hearts

@kawaii-cakes-blog @phoenixpromptsandstuff

@alyscat @wil-o-the-wips

@eternal-pain-and-suffering @yonbwekh

@rosieposey-torturedpoet @turtlesnap1

@weirdthingweee wanted to draw something violent

Spring.

Such a sweet picture

"Hey there," A voice softly called to the trembling escaped monster, a tag still hanging off it, pierced into a thin membrane. "I don't want to hurt you, just calm down." The voice's owner shined their flashlight over the creature, watching it flinch back.

"How about a treat?" They offered instead, carefully setting the light down to stay illuminating the creature, using their free hands to peel open a little can of highly-scented food. The monster perked up at the scent, scared eyes widening with hunger and curiosity.

"C'mon, it's for you." They smiled, setting the tin down and picking up the light, stepping back and giving it room.

The monster hesitated, then carefully came near, sniffing at the tin, before starting to lick and bite at the food held within it. Something specialized for its diet, designed to be as enticing as possible in its blend of aromas.

It was so entranced, that it didn't hear the soft click and hiss of a blowgun, preparing to fire a dart laced with the perfect dosage of a tranquilizer.

Poor monster