The Rengling

03

The chair in Gigi's motel room isn't very comfortable, but Colette makes do, sitting with her legs crossed and her hands folded, her eyes on the pink-haired girl, who is pacing back and forth. What she would give to be anywhere other than here, living any other life besides this one. Even being a clown would do, and she hates clowns.

Colette watches Gigi do another lap. She finds that concentrating on the pacing keeps her from freaking out about everything else. The turmoil is there, but she's successfully shoved it into the background—at least, enough so that she doesn't blend into her surroundings against her will.

But still, she wishes Gigi would just say something already. The girl has been pacing for twenty minutes, and it doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon. There have been moments when she'd pause, start to speak, but then stop, like she realized the sentence she was about to say was actually stupid. But even a stupid sentence would be better than this endless silence where Colette is left to her own devices.

She understands her hesitation. It's not like she was very accepting of everything Gigi tried to say earlier, and she's probably terrified that Colette will reject her again. But Colette needs answers, and preferably before the distraction wears off and she bursts into panic-ridden tears.

"Gigi," she whispers.

Gigi comes to a stop. "I just... I don't want to scare you off again," she says, bringing a hand through her hair.

"You won't," Colette replies, though she's not certain that that's true. Sure, she knows that she needs to be aware of what's going on, but if things become too terrifying, she can't promise that she won't make a run for the door. "I need to know what's happening. Are my parents in any danger? Am I? Am I on this thing's radar now?"

She's almost proud of herself for sounding so sure of her words, not at all timid like she usually does when she's forced into an uncomfortable position. Then again, she's had twenty minutes to deliberate whether or not she'd ever ask Gigi these questions, so maybe it doesn't count.

The pink-haired girl folds her lips together, guilt crossing her face. Colette sits a little straighter, alarmed by the look. "Yes," she replies, encompassing all of the questions into one simple answer. For a moment, it appears as though that's the only answer she's going to give, but then she decides to elaborate. "Once the Rengling touches you, it has your scent. The only reason why it came to the shelter in the first place was because..." The guilty look returns. "I'm sorry."

Colette frowns, unable to help the anger that flares. How is that fair? She knows Gigi didn't mean any harm, but it doesn't erase the fact that harm is exactly what she almost caused. But as quickly as the anger comes, it dies out, replaced with the fear of what is to come.

"It came looking for me, and it must have sensed you once it entered the shelter." Gigi sits down on the bed, her hands curled into tight fists at her sides. "I've been trying to defeat it for over a year," she says. "It... it killed my best friend, and it tried to kill me too."

A pained look crosses her face.

"I'm sorry," Colette whispers, and she is. She lost her best friend to rumors—she can only imagine how much it must hurt to lose one to death.

Gigi tries to smile and fails. "Thanks," she says. "The Rengling needs to be stopped. But I can't kill it by myself. I'm not strong enough."

"And you think that with me, you'll somehow be able to kill this thing?" Colette shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I am, but I don't see how I'm supposed to be of much help to you. All I can do is blend into walls."