The Gods are Falling from the Sky (surreal urban fantasy o/o anyone?[CLOSED ty])

(Glad to hear! ^^)
(sorry for the long post lol)
Oscar didn't seem to hear her. Reaching out, he turned the handle on the silo's door and pulled it open.
It was dark and echoing inside the steel structure. The only light came from the doorway, and the only sound came from the soft whispering of the breeze outside. The concrete floor seemed to be covered in a layer of dry, gritty grain dust that kicked up in plumes at the slightest disturbance.
Oscar noticed almost none of this. As soon as he'd looked inside, that sweet smell had hit him like a tidal wave, demanding all his attention. The source was right here, perhaps in the shadows only a few feet away. He grinned, stepping forward eagerly.
As he did, there was a scuffle of movement from inside the silo. Oscar flinched in surprise, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. When they did at last, he took in a breath and grabbed Honor's arm.
"Look," he whispered, his voice layered and strange. "There's something here."
It was hard to see, but tucked far back in the corner like a frightened mouse was a human. A middle-aged man, clothed in what looked like bright green nurse's scrubs, wearing slip-on shoes and a plastic hospital bracelet. He was gaunt and pale, his hair long and unkempt. He hugged himself, staring at the two of them and breathing in quick, shallow gasps.
Oscar's eyes turned pure black and his teeth turned sharp. "That's it. That's real food."

(No worries, hope you're doing well! ^^)
(another long one whew xD)
"It's not human," Oscar said, not even glancing at Honor. "It's like me but…..weaker. And that's why it's afraid, because it knows what I am." He leaned forward on the balls of his feet, but then hesitated, reconsidering his own words. "That's right….it knows what I am. But I don't. Maybe…..maybe it can tell me, before I eat it."
Shrugging Honor's hand off his arm, he nudged her back towards the door and advanced on the terrified man. As he did, he seemed to grow huge and shadowy, his form contorting in the poor light and the booming cavern of the silo's vaulted roof. A smell like hot metal stained the air, and there was a sinister buzz that rumbled the concrete floor and sent dust up in thunderheads.
Tell me what I am, Oscar growled at the poor man, bending down to corner him with great twisted limbs that dug into the walls. Tell me my name!
The man screamed like a wounded rabbit, and in the darkness, he seemed surrounded by a strange, ever-so-faint aura of color that trembled violently at Oscar's every word. He covered his face, apparently unable to respond or even understand Oscar's demands.
Oscar visibly seethed with frustration, making the silo groan as if there was pressure building from inside it. Fine. His jaw stretched wide, filling with teeth, preparing to strike.
And then…..there was a tiny flash of gold that lanced down from above, hitting Oscar's shoulder. He flinched, turned, and seemed to deflate. His form rapidly returned to normal, his movements became sluggish, and in moments he'd slumped to the floor. The glittering gold object was a slender tranquilizer dart.
From somewhere overhead came a new voice, sharp and commanding. "Miss, put your hands up and don't move, or I'll be forced to subdue you like your friend there. That's an order."

(hoooo boy sorry for the wait, work really kicked my butt there TvT)
Oscar's eyes were glazed over, and he didn't move or respond to Honor's voice. His head had stopped bleeding, but was still a clotted mess of red that was turning the grit on the floor into mud.
"He can't hear you." It was the voice from above again—an older man's, clipped and cold. "And he won't be waking up for a while either." A mechanical whine, and the owner of the voice dropped down into view, tethered to the ceiling by some kind of grapple. He landed between Honor and the exit, tugging the tether to disconnect it. His face was hidden by a dark-colored military mask.
"Honor Kingsley, yeah? My name is Jack O'Connell, of Goldenrod's Hunter Unit. You're under arrest for obstruction and evasion of the law and for sheltering a dangerous fugitive—a non-human one, even. You're coming with me."

"We're not letting him go, and you're going to cooperate," Jack replied matter-of-factly. "I suggest you call yourself a lawyer if you're so sure you're innocent, ma'am. As for what I did to your buddy, he's just sedated. He can't hurt anybody right now, fortunately for our bait over there." He jerked his head at the thin, long-haired man, who was still curled in the corner with his arms protecting his head. "You really wanna tell me this Level Three—Oscar, you say—isn't dangerous, when you just watched him almost swallow somebody whole?"

Jack seemed to tire of the conversation. "Well if you're trying to appeal on his behalf, I'm not the person to talk to. You'll probably be having an interview with our higher-ups once we get to HQ anyway, so you can take it up with them." He gestured with his gun, leaving no room for further argument. "Come with me, and please do your best not to cause trouble. Your buddy will be right behind you in the other van, rest assured."

Eying her, Jack gave a sigh and spoke into his radio. "Squad, clear for entry. Let's get this cleaned up and moved out. You too, Agent Jenkins, you can come collect the Level One now." To Honor, he said, "We'll contain the Level Three where he can't hurt himself or anybody else. They take good care of his type, I'm told. Listen, you're riding with Jenkins on the way back so quiz him. He works with Level Threes all the time."
As he was talking to her, a group of six other military-clad people filed into the silo, starting the carefully coordinated process of moving Oscar onto a stretcher. Following behind them, more cautiously, was a man about Honor's age with neat black dreadlocks, wearing a protective vest and civilian clothes. Presumably this was Agent Jenkins. His expression and movements were less brisk than the others, and he glanced at Honor with no hostility before hurrying over to the Level One.
"Hey Tanner," he said softly. "It's okay, it's asleep. You did a great job, and now we can go back to the van, okay? You don't have to be near it anymore."
The Level One—Tanner—was still clearly terrified but let the young man help him up without objection. Together they made their way outside, with Jenkins continuing to give words of encouragement.
"Follow him and do what he says," Jack told Honor. "And don't mess with him, he might look doe-eyed but he's armed just like all of us."

Honor's truck was at this moment being inspected by two agents who resembled a forensics team. They were scanning the interior with what looked like modified Geiger counters and packing away all of Oscar and Honor's belongings into plastic bags. Beyond them, more armored agents were setting up police tape around the gravel lot, as if they planned to be there a while.
"Um….Miss Kingsley?" Agent Jenkins had led his charge over to a dark blue Goldenrod van and helped him inside. Now he was watching Honor with cautious politeness. "Come with me, please. They're taking us back to headquarters now."

"I don't know for sure," Agent Jenkins replied almost apologetically. "Right now this is an investigation, but there will probably be some way to apply for the retrieval of your belongings at a later date. As for your friend, my guess is that he'll become a resident at HQ while we learn more about him and determine whether he's a threat." He paused, then added, "I know you're worried, but there's nothing to be scared of. We're not a prison. We'll take good care of him and you both until this gets sorted out, I promise. And if you have more questions, someone will be able to answer them in full once we get to HQ. Fair enough?"

"The last thing anybody wants is to hurt him," Agent Jenkins promised. "And I'm really sorry, but I don't think they'll let you take anything with you right now. Whatever items you need will be supplied once we get you set up at the HQ."
A pale, frightened face appeared in the entrance to the back of the van. "Rashawn…..why aren't we leaving? I want to go home. The Level Three is still looking at me even though it's asleep."
Agent Jenkins turned his attention back to his charge and spoke soothingly. "Don't worry Tanner, we're almost finished. This nice person will be sitting with us, all right? Her name is Honor." He glanced at Honor politely, but pointedly. "Are you ready to go, ma'am?"

Agent Jenkins waited for Honor to get inside the van, then followed her and shut the doors. The interior was spacious, with long seats on either side and a partition between the front and back. There was even a small fridge, which Tanner scooted up against in an attempt to get away from Honor. He opened it up and pulled out a package of animal crackers, but didn't eat any, just lined them up on the seat beside them and made patterns out of them.
Rashawn tapped the glass to get the driver's attention, and soon the van started moving. With no windows in the back, there was no way to see where they were going. Rashawn sat next to Tanner and checked his phone briefly, then glanced at Honor sidelong as if debating whether to make conversation.
After several minutes, he went for it. "So…..how did Oscar get his name, then? Did you choose it for him?"

Tanner merely cast her a sullen look, but Rashawn was happy to answer. "We chose it together, when Tanner first arrived at the HQ. I've been taking care of him ever since. My branch works with Level Ones like him mostly—we teach them how to help us detect other Erased Ones in the field. The bravest ones help us draw them out of hiding, too. Tanner did that today, didn't you Tanner? I told you everything would be all right."
Tanner nodded, calming down just slightly.
"They also brought me along because I'm learning to rehabilitate Level Threes as part of my special training," Rashawn continued. "I've never met one like Oscar before though. Usually by the time we find them they're just mindless monsters and their bodies are severely deteriorated. Oscar seemed upset, yes, but still very clear-headed and healthy. I bet that was your doing. How long exactly have you known each other?"

(Shoot, I missed this somehow, sorry!)
"They all want to go home, in my experience," Rashawn said. "But Oscar seems…..different." He glanced at Tanner and lowered his voice. "Based on our observations, Level Ones are the natural prey of Level Threes. We fully expected Oscar to attack immediately. But instead he tried to communicate with Tanner, and even asked about his own true nature. It seems to me you should give yourself more credit for his behavior. I think your guidance was crucial to helping him adapt to life on Earth."
Tanner shivered. "It still—" He flinched and looked at Honor. "He still wanted to eat me. Just later, after the questions. If the man hadn't shot him……I'd be gone by now." A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, and he added, "I heard you telling 'Oscar' not to hurt me. I….didn't think you'd do that. Rashawn's usually the only one that cares."

Rashawn glanced from Honor to Tanner and back. "All I know is this," he said eventually. "The first few hours and days after an Erased One arrives on Earth are a key moment. Whatever happens in that time will shape the personality and danger levels of the Erased One permanently. If our agents manage to track them down in time, we can work to minimize their discomfort and confusion until they're used to their new bodies. These Erased Ones are usually calm, cooperative, and even friendly. But if we miss that opportunity, their first experiences will likely be filled with fear and pain, especially if they encounter panicked civilians. These Erased Ones are usually violent, unpredictable, and almost impossible to negotiate with. So Honor, when I say you helped Oscar a lot by taking him in…..I'm saying you probably saved lives. Including your own." He looked quite serious as he spoke. "I know you've been convicted for helping him avoid us, and I can't endorse breaking the law, but setting that aside—I think you did really well for someone with no training. And in the end, you made our job a lot easier, so thank-you. I'm glad no one got hurt."

Rashawn considered. "What we tell people to do, when they find an Erased One or think one is nearby, is to contact us as soon as possible and then hide or evacuate if they can. It's a bit like reporting a serious crime or calling in a natural disaster. Legally speaking, it's much better if a Goldenrod agent like me gets hurt while doing their job, rather than an ordinary civilian. So even if simply leaving Oscar where he lay might have been riskier, as long as you told someone about him, you would not have gotten in trouble for helping him." He sighed. "It's in the past now, though. You did what you thought was best. Oh, and by the way, the reason it's illegal to shelter an Erased One is because sometimes people do it to try and use the Erased One to commit other crimes. We've dealt with everything from small-time theft or murder to organized terrorist attacks. And that's not even mentioning the accidents that happen when the criminals can't actually control the Erased One. At the moment, there's no system in place for convicting an Erased One in court, or for proving they committed a crime with DNA samples, for example. You can see why we'd want to play it safe and avoid those problems if we can."

(Its ok fam ^^)
Tanner shook his head, after glancing at Rashawn to make sure he was allowed to answer. "I don't remember anything. I was just….here all of a sudden. In a body. Rashawn says I was really scared at first, but I don't remember that either."
"Level Ones have fairly poor long-term memories," Rashawn informed Honor distractedly. Her outspoken objection to Goldenrod's practices seemed to have left him in doubt of how to respond.
"At the moment, it's considered impossible to return Erased Ones to their home," he admitted finally. "So little is still known about them, and the Erased Ones themselves can't help us at all. But if they allow it, you should talk to my colleague from the dapartment of field research. His name's Agent Abbot, and he might know more about what we're doing to reverse-engineer the Manifestations that bring those like Oscar and Tanner to Earth."