Hand Sanitizer Stings

It was like they had been born to test.

As soon as they got their hands on a weapon and shot through the terminal it was like their instincts took over. Every target was hit straight on, they kept perfect balance on every rail, and the weird eight ball never escaped their sight.

They started to feel proud whenever they cleared a test and came back to the train where each new conductor would congratulate them. Such monotone and rehearsed words seemed to fill their entire being with warmth and pride.

Yet, the tests were so *lonely*. It was just them against whatever task they had been set out to complete. The conductors weren't as chatty as Malcolm had been, and the other passengers mostly ignored them. If they were lucky they'd get a scowl when they sat down next to one of them.

The current stage they had just wandered into was much different then any they had encountered up until now. The equipper supplied them with no weapon, yet gave them their objective like usual.

Defend the orb!

Whatever that meant.

They didn’t remain without a weapon for long though. As soon as they pushed through the gates leading into the stage they were greeted with a gallery of Weapon Cans to choose from. They wandered the grid of containers for a few moments, before hefting an Octobrush over their shoulder.

They walked to the end of the platform and found the orb. It was impossible to miss the thing, as it sat in the center of the very empty test. Without taking a moment to question the ‘defending’ part of their objective, they super-jumped into the test chamber.

As the roar of their super-charged leap faded from their ears, they were met with eerie silence. They didn’t let it deter them though, they followed their tried and true method of inking what they could for mobility, and getting to the goal as quickly as possible.

The crackling of wood broke the silence. They jerked their head toward the noise, finding the wall of crates breaking under the weight of sickly green ink. They couldn’t move. What was that?

The boxes broke under the fluorescent onslaught, a victory shriek following as an Octoling burst through the debris. Their body only tensed further, shock wracking their system. An Octoling! They hadn’t seen one since Khione. Amongst their confusion, excitement began to warm their core.

But something was wrong. They halted their approach. Her skin was pale green, her tentacles were blue and ended with the same sickly green that had broken the crates mere moments before. She stared the shaking Octoling down, her gaze unreadable under a pair of dark shades.

“Target acquired.” The glasses gained a red spot that bore into the test subject and before they could respond, she shot forward with scary speed.

“Destroy.”

An explosion sounded at their feet, an unnoticed Splat Bomb detonating and covering them in sickly ink that seemed to eat at their skin like acid. They let out a pained scream as they fell to their knees.

She was ruthless, following the explosion with an assault from her Octoshot. They tried to block the onslaught with their Octobrush, but every time they went to try and strike her, they felt fear. She was an Octoling, how could she do this? How could they do this? Hot tears rolled down their cheeks as they cried out.

More Octolings descended from atop boxes and platforms until they were completely surrounded. The Octoling with the Octoshot easily blended into the crowd once she stepped back. They shakily put out a hand to try and fruitlessly drag themself away, but a boot snapped down on their fingers with a sickening crunch. They screeched.

The owner of the boot moved it to their side, easily toeing them into flipping over onto their back. All they could do was cry, silently pleading for freedom, for help, for anything other than this. But of course, they went unheard.

They stared up at the Octoling as they raised up their own Octobrush over their head. Their eyes were too glazed over with tears. They looked familiar. Their pain must be causing them to hallucinate.

The enemy plunged their Octobrush into their chest, and they let out a long tortured scream that seemed to echo throughout the chamber, writhing in agony under the weapon as the brush somehow pierced straight through them.

They pulled out the Octobrush in one sharp movement, leaving the test subject to start coughing and choking on green ink as the wound began to immediately fester and infect their system.

The crowd of enemy Octolings began to chant. **Destroy. Destroy. Destroy.** At first they could pick out each individual snarl as it wormed its way into their mind, a cacophony of voices rattling in their nonexistent skull. Finally, they all combined into a single booming demand:

***Destroy. Destroy. Destroy.***

The Octoling who loomed over them crouched down. And for the first time, their movements were soft and calculated. They carefully reached into their open chest, gently prying something from deep within and pulling it to the surface. It sat in their palm, a bright glow that hurt their eyes before it dulled.

They were holding a small leaf.

“Memcake.” They whispered, staring at the object in their palm before carefully closing their fist around it and getting back to their feet. They looked down at the test subject as their already laboured breathing went from desperate panting to slower and slower breaths. They stared back up at them with piercing blue pupils, from this angle they could see through their heavy shades.

It was them. A clone of them.

Their head fell onto its side as they struggled to keep control of their body, focusing on the crowd that watched on with stone cold expressions.

They were all them. Clones.

They were just a clone.

They tried to wail, but not even a whimper came out as they finally stilled.

The crowd dissipated quickly with that. The Octobrush Octoling remained, staring down at them. They couldn’t move, not even able to close their eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, they raised their Octobrush and swiped the orb clean off its pedestal. With that, they finally followed after the others and left the Octoling alone, staring at the endless abyss that stretched out above them.

“The orb broke. Test failed.”

They exploded in a storm of green ink.