Don't Feed the Plants
A Halloween Fiction

Written: October 4, 2013 2:39 pm
Finished: October 5, 2013 2:39 pm
Rating: T
Warning: Murder, Description of Depravity
Pairing: Egon/Finitevus (one-sided), Egon/Ashi-Le (iffy)

Egon was never very good at taking care of things. He'd killed off four goldfish over several months, each of them for different reasons, and the little patch of turf outside his apartment was a very sad taupe colour, but he was determined to make something work. He was horribly lonely. The plant helped.

It was one of those fly-traps, he thought. It had come up in the grass patch over the rainy season, and he'd potted it in an old coffee can before his super could kill it with a weed-whacker. Despite not actually feeding it flies, the poor little thing had struggled along valiantly on his kitchen countertop. He'd tried feeding it beans, protein pellets, and even small slices of lunch meat, but it was too weak to digest any of it. Only little drops of blood let with a pen knife seemed to sustain it, and he was altogether willing to allow that for the grateful way it mulled each taste and then opened again for another taste. 

When it was stronger, with a thicker stock, he worked it up to slices of raw ground beef, and brought it around with him while he worked and cooked and slept, talking to it about work and the things that mattered to him. It was the one thing that he'd managed to keep alive for longer than a few weeks, and it was cathartic to reveal his secrets to something. "I'm in love with my boss," he confided with a giggle, once, and received no judgement in return, which was perfectly fine with him.

"I should probably name you," the physicist hummed only when he was very sure that the plant wasn't going to die any time soon. "What do you think about Ashi-Le, after my boss?" It would give him a lot of practice for wishing his boss good night, telling her that he loved her, and maybe even some kissing... just with a plant instead of a lady. "It's a very nice name."

"I think it's a horrible name," the plant sniffed.

Egon backed into his dresser and hissed when his leg hit a corner. "You can-- you can talk??"

"Of course." The mouth arched up to him blindly, each leaf ruffling a little as it adjusted itself. "You're not crazy, are you? Every day, talking to me like that-- you aren't in a habit of talking to inanimate objects now, are you?" He shook his head, then babbled out a weak 'no'. "I didn't think so," the plant mused. "But here I assumed you were aware... hm. Regardless, 'Ashi-Le' doesn't suit me at all."

"Right," Egon nodded again. "I mean-- now that I know that you've got a-- a rather masculine voice--"

"Now you're assuming things," the as-of-yet-unnamed plant huffed. "Why don't I just tell you my name and we can skip the guessing games?"

"That would work," the researcher said, a hesitant grab for the general direction of his bed.

The plant made a show of preening and craning its 'neck', leaves ruffling up like a mane. "You may call me Finitevus."

"Finitevus?"

"Noooo." The plant-- Finitevus-- made a point of sounding it out for him so that he could pronounce it correctly.

"That's a pretty unusual name," Egon commented, looking lost and still a little awkward. He pulled the coffee can closer and undid one of his finger bandages without much thought.

"Really? It's very popular where I'm from. Your town must be primitive and backward." When Finitevus was done insulting Egon's people, a diatribe that included their weather, their government, and their postal system, he took up the free meal with a suckling, and a laving motion that Egon was pretty sure was all tongue.

"You taste very nice," Finitevus complimented. "And as I'm aware that you've taken great pains to keep me cared for, I'm prepared to offer you a deal. You feed me meat -- good meat, mind you -- and I'll help you win your employer's heart."

The Mobian wasn't sure how that would work. His houseplant was young and small, had limited world experience, and couldn't really go around talking to others. The great assurances wore him down, and he agreed on the exchange with only mild trepidation.

At Finitevus' behest, he changed all the bandages on his fingers for bright neon ones bought in the children's section of the pharmacy, and wore green, which was proclaimed to be a much more appealing colour than brown. He got immediate notice and compliments from the normally very business-oriented woman, and that was enough of a success for him to follow Finitevus completely and dutifully (with a nice steak in hand, to make good on his part of things).

Another few days in, and a much healthier looking plant decided to tell him to pull his quills back with something, so the good doctor could see his eyes. Egon described his appearance for him, and was instructed to begin talking in a more positive fashion about himself. He came home each day with freshly ground beef and delight about his prospects; Finitevus just wanted to suck the blood clean from his fingers and hear about how good his advice was going. 

He didn't mind the buds of flowers around the crown, or the vines. There was a little point of concern when they had to move up to a bigger pot, but once Finitevus had some room to grow, the plant was suddenly a lot more partial to the notion. Then it didn't seem so weird that Finitevus could chew his meat, or open his red, red eyes, or pick up things to examine and taste and explore. It was better than having a cat, and less commitment than having a roommate to talk to. There was absolutely nothing that could go wrong.

"Transferred? But I don't want to get transferred!"

Ashi-Le pursed her lips as she examined the file. "It says that you applied for transfer to the Energies division about two weeks after starting here. It makes sense to put your major to use... Mm, and here they'd sent you a confirmation saying you were on a waiting list until a suitable senior could be found for you."

"That was two years ago!" Egon protested. "A lot has changed--" He muffled his mouth when his voice cracked, and slumped down into the chair. "I don't want to."

She leaned across the desk with a bowl of the hard candies, and a box of tissues. "I'm not eager to see you leave either. But there's no denying that this isn't where your talents lie. I think you'd feel much happier to do the job you studied for-- and your new employer is highly recommended. He graduated with top honours from the same university that you went to, he went on a lecture circuit in several foreign countries, he's got to be pushing at least twenty more IQ points than I am..." She blushed modestly. "He's also not that bad to look at. I think this could be really fun for you, Egon, and if I were in your place, I'd snap it up in a hot second~"

He made the horrible mistake of asking if he wasn't attractive as well, and watched her carefully glossed lips scrunch into something like a grimace. "Our work relationship should remain just that. You're a cute guy, but that's a mess that I don't want to get into. There's a committee for looking into those sort of--"

Egon stood and took his coat. "I know. I just thought... I don't know."

She nodded, and stood to shake his hand. "I've already sent in your acceptance. You're moving upstairs, and he wants to meet you today. His name is Dr. Finitevus, emphasis on the 'ni', and you'll be working with space rocks and--"

"Thank you." He wasn't thankful at all, particularly not when--

"Since you're working for someone else now, there shouldn't be any conflict of interest if you asked me out to lunch." She beamed back at him, and he remembered that he was working for, or had been working for a very smart lady. "Occasionally, of course. I might even say yes."

"Dinner?" He croaked. "Toni--"

She shook her head and opened the door for him. "You're going to go meet your new boss. I'll be seeing you around, Egon. Maybe next time."

Out in the hallway, he collided with another Echidna who looked as lost as he was, and they helped each other pick up sheafs of paper and his meager desk possessions. "I'm sorry," the other apologised. "I should really look where-- Do you know if Dr. Ashi-Le's office is around here? They said basement, but I've been down here for at least twenty minutes--"

"Are you the new guy?" A spark of jealousy split through him. New Guy was much better looking than he was, even if he wore glasses (and obviously was way dorkier).

"I am new, but I'm not working for her, if that's what you're wondering. I was supposed to meet my new coworker, but some of my boxes arrived late, and..." He looked befuddled for a moment, before his mouth split into an absolutely charming smile. "Why-- you must be him, aren't you? Egon Hayek? Ah, she'd described you as small, gawky, unmanageable... that's sort of petty of her. What a pleasant surprise." 

The words reaffirmed every negative thing that Egon had ever said about himself, but this new doctor (apparently 'Finitevus' really was more common than he'd thought) seemed to think the complete opposite of him, and that was... nice.

"We're going to be working with brand-new equipment, so we'll schedule time for a training session, and find you a project -- whatever funding you need, we'll get it--" Finitevus wheeled around and stopped. "It's seven at night, what am I doing? Starve my own collaborator to death by negligence? That won't do. I know a little place about eight blocks from here, if you don't mind the walk. We should drop this off at your office, and then maybe work on paperwork over minestrone?"

"You said collaborator," Egon queried numbly. "I'm just a--"

"I saw your credentials," Finitevus-the-Echidna glowed. "Wrong section, wrong position, wrong the whole way through working here, but your thesis was a little diamond in the rough. I believe that I have as much to learn from the people I meet as they have to learn from me, and I can tell that you're not stupid. It's inconceivable that you could remain here for two years and not advance to at least junior researcher." He stopped for a moment, and took Egon's box for him. "...If you don't like South Andrian food, I know a hole-in-the-wall establishment only two or three blocks away that has some of the best broccoli beef I've ever tasted."

Privately, Egon wondered if the crazy man had scoped out every dining establishment in the area before coming here, but that wasn't something he really wanted to get into for the moment. "I thought it wasn't allowed."

"You're not working for me, dear boy. You're working with me. That's all the difference in the world." He tugged on one woolen sleeve. "Come on? My treat?"

Egon came home later than planned to a very hungry plant, raving about the dinner that he'd had, and how interesting his new boss was, and how Ashi-Le had basically told him that they could be an item now that it was no longer verboten, and how he was awfully sorry to be late. Finitevus-the-Plant required two pounds of the beef before he was satisfied, and then stayed up late channel surfing after Egon went to bed.

The next few weeks were filled with a roller-coaster's worth of emotional ups and downs: his new employer was perfect in every sense of the word, smart, charming, witty, sensitive, handsome, considerate, and they had a whole lab to themselves to analyze the composition of space material and run their resistance points for their energy storage and reserves; Ashi-Le was being nicer to him now that he was a junior researcher; Ashi-Le kept turning him down for lunch; Dr. Finitevus kept inviting him out to fun locations simply to talk and hang out and be friendly, and he was preeetty sure that there was some other sort of undercurrent there, but he still said yes every time because it was fun and enjoyable and there was nothing wrong with that, was there?

His plant, now almost the size of a normal Echidna, listened to it all patiently and offered his advice, worth meals upwards of four pounds of steak and any other meat that Egon might buy. His new salary could afford it, and when the plant was happy, he seemed to have better luck. If only, he would sigh, that luck would extend to something successful with Ashi-Le. "I said I'd help you win your employer's heart," Finitevus reminded him. "That hasn't changed. He seems to be smitten with you."

"Wrong employer."

The plant stretched out, head tilting at him while vines cradled his 'landlord's' face. "The affection of someone who already adores you, promoted you, respects you, cares for you, versus uncertain love from someone who put you down and kept you down and still says no? She'll always say no, stupid boy. Why can't you take the good things when they come?" 

Egon still loved her, but it really wasn't fair to Finitevus-the-Echidna to lead him along when he did seem to be sincerely interested. And the other man really was his type in so many ways. "At least secure me a date with her once, and then I won't ask anymore."

"If you want her so badly," the plant considered. "Then I'm upping the bargain here. That's a crime against nature to try for something that isn't there, and I'm going to be hungry. So very hungry."

"Whatever you want," the smaller agreed. "I can get it for you."

"Feed me man," Finitevus leered. "You have the means. I'm the motive. And if you're interested, you'll find the opportunity. Give me what I want, and I'll give you all you've dreamed."

"Feed you what?" Egon wasn't certain if he'd heard that right at all, if the plant had given him any specific directions or preferences.

"Man." The vines folded and the plant rested back, looking more and more Mobian. "Chopped up into bite-sized chunks. Cover the floor in plastic, burn anything that gets a stain... you won't ever get caught. There's no body to dig up." He found this amusing enough to laugh at his own joke. "But you're just willing enough to do it, aren't you? The heart of your lady for a couple homeless people, maybe your next-door neighbor that plays the music too loudly, maybe someone you could pick up from a bar-- drug them, bludgeon them on the head, cut them up for me, and you can have whatever you'd like~"

"Okay." He was surprised to have voiced it, but once it was out there, he said it again, more firmly. "Okay. You have a deal. Just... just a couple people though. P-put them out of their misery."

"The ones that won't be missed," the plant agreed. "Find them, kill them, and bring them to me~"

Having agreed to it, Egon couldn't find the courage to back down, not now. The first time that he lured someone back to his apartment, he wept when he locked the door, and Finitevus-the-Plant had to help him knock the girl unconscious and divide her up. He was glad he hadn't eaten, watching his plant lick the mess up and grin at him, and he wondered if he had any soul left. But then Ashi-Le kissed him, a real kiss, and it made it all easier. He was miserable lying to his kind-hearted employer, particularly when he'd promised, and then changed his plans for Ashi-Le, but luck only went part of the way there, and he was paying in blood.

"You have a life outside these office walls," Finitevus-the-Echidna told him firmly. "And if that's a place where you can pursue romance, then I'm happy for you. If you ever need anything, I hope you think of me as a friend, and not just the person that reviews your projects and bugs you about your publication drafts. I really.... I enjoy our time together, and you're a pleasure to know. So don't bank on formalities if you don't need to."

It was just another thing that made Finitevus perfect, he knew, and thought it practically a love-confession, even as he was clearly with Ashi-Le (two lunch-dates and half a movie which totally meant they were together), and were she not the most perfect woman alive, he'd take the man up on his offer. And even if he was with another, the man treated him with more decency and respect than he felt due (being a serial killer of sorts, now) regardless of his current relationship status.

But all good things had to come to an end. That's how the idiom went. 

"Your girlfriend came by," Finitevus-the-Plant hissed, and Egon thought nothing of it. "She dropped in with the key under the doormat, you idiot! Walked right in here!" Blood all over the plastic cover from the last kill, and shreds of fur remaining. "She can do nothing wrong in your eyes, but she has to go," the plant sniffed.

"She came here," Egon repeated.

"She came, she saw, she screamed, she left." He extended a small cylinder which Egon recognized as her lipstick. "And if she isn't taken care of, you're going to prison, and they will kill me."

"Maybe I should go to prison," he moped.

"Shush you. I don't intend to die." The plant stretched his arms out and swept his mane of leaves and flowers back into a more reasonable appearance. "You're going to make things right. Get her, bring her here, finish things off. This needs to be timely. She's in shock and she isn't going to be saying anything to anyone right now, but it needs to be done tonight."

"You're asking me to kill my girlfriend," Egon sobbed. "I'm not going to do that, not even for you."

Finitevus-the-Plant rolled his eyes, and then slapped the sense back into him. "Right now, you have the option that I'm not letting you go through with, or the reasonable one. Get rid of her, and you still have your boyfriend, a well-paying job, prestige, and your freedom. If you don't go and do this now, you're never going to see Finitevus again."

"He'd visit me in prison," Egon said loyally.

"I'll take him away from you," the plant swore. "I gave him to you, and right now, I'm thinking you're not grateful enough to really deserve him. Every little happiness in your life is because of me, and I know it. You're stupid and short and wimpy, and I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you. And you keep going back to a girl that doesn't even want to be with you. She goes out to lunch as a colleague, she watched the movie with you because she pitied you, but she doesn't want you, and if you keep pressing that point, you're going to get me mad." 

He selected a thick knife from the butcher block and began to sharpen it. "Be reasonable here. We can be more secretive about this lifestyle. Continue to feed me to my satisfaction, and I'll make you rich and famous. You'll have discovered distant life from planets far away, and the effects of radiation on atypical plant types, you'll be able to buy cows, and have them butchered for me instead of doing the job yourself. I'll even manage to get you laid. You can't even begin to imagine how difficult it was to find something suitable for you. A meat-puppet that fit every one of your antiquated notions of mates and romance..."

Egon dabbed at his tears with a dishcloth and sniffled despondently.

"If you don't do this," the plant warned. "I'll kill you and cut you up and pen a suicide note in your handwriting, willing me to someone more willing to take care of my needs. I'll make you the most famous name in the annals of history as some horrible little dweeby man who got off on killing pretty young things and getting away with it. And they'd believe it, because that's what they expect from nobodies like you. That's why it was easy for you, wasn't it."

Egon took the knife and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. "Okay, I'll--"

"Good boy. I'll send your boy-toy along to help you bring her back here. In the future, be more careful about your keys, won't you?" He turned back to the television as Egon left.