This one got a little weird and might be bad or I might have missed the prompt. My bad. it's what came to mind when I started writing.

A spit take launched three half melted ice cubes hurtling towards the kitchen tile. It was there they slid, dissolving into a puddle of what could be confused with spit. It was Alice’s spit. Alice had participated in the trick before when they were kids and her bunny returned with a soul and mortgage.

Trix was the name of her rabbit, and he was in fact named after the cereal mascot, when she was finally deemed too old for the stuffed toy; her father told her that Trix were for kids. It was loaded and so, not wanting to upset her parents and fulfill their wishes of getting ready to enter adulthood. She gave the bunny to her brother with the mystery spine.

Now, she covers her mouth, wiping the spit that had fallen from her lip based launch pad. This party was being held to honor the retirement/birthday of Matilda Price, the wife and soon to be mother of their General Manager’s child. The Same general Manager who was pulled behind the curtain and into Darren’s spine moments ago.

It would have been easy to close the restaurant for the evening, letting the hard working staff have a party in their workspace, leaving the clean up to a cleaning crew they could hire. Why lose money they could gain on a Friday in the summer? Why hire another cleaning crew when there are already maids working in their apartment. A little overtime won’t kill anyone, Gregor Price had said to his wife.

Opting instead for the general manager’s opulent downtown apartment. A place and time that seemed all too mythical to the staff; now, it is purely supernatural.

Gregor stands there, moments after being pulled behind the back of Darren, like a grandparent sneaking some spare change behind a child’s ear.

Withered, flesh ashen and dry, his eyes sunken and black, he shivers, hand jostled for a standing hold on the back of the couch.

“Gregor.” Matilda’s voice was fried and she nearly fainted as her words were carried off into the ether.

No one was standing behind Darren. None had witnessed the Chakra Abyss that lay inside his spinal column. 

Bones tapped on the side of his flesh that had peeled itself away, his back had become a night sky of blending and bleeding souls; tossed in and out as their chakra ran dry. 

He was born with a cracked heart chakra, one that bled and was infected by a Djinn impersonating his higher self. It fed for years on the emotions of youth, growing powerful enough to turn his body into a dimension of its own. 

The Boy known as Darren grew up believing he was a natural magician, but he was really a drain for a spirit sucker. A living vacuum for souls, trading them in and out of living and non-living things as freely as he’d eat a fruit snack.

“Put me back.” Gregor spoke between coughs of dust and words, He arched over onto the back of the couch. “Put me back!” His voice rose. The crowd, all except for Alice, had a cheeky look of delight crawling over them.

There were murmurs of this being quite the show.

A spectacle to be had. And attempting to scare poor Matilda from taking his fortune. This is the least clever way to announce an elopement I’ve ever seen. Elope? Aren't they already married? That wasn’t official, it was just something that they did as a spectacle, to keep the cooks from hitting on Matilda when she was working by herself as MOD (Manager on Duty)

The ensemble of chatter reaching his mind, digging in and making a home, Gregor could not believe what he was hearing. He knew his staff would gossip; all staff do, especially those in a kitchen, but to do it with unmoving lips and in his own apartment; why, he wouldn’t stand for it.

Gregor screamed as light pierced through the holes in his head, purple and white, the deep soul like chakra that is the 7th. This quelled the distilled chatter to a hum, stopping any pervading thoughts about what might or might not be going on behind the scenes.

If only they’d step behind Darren’s back; they could experience it for themselves.

This is something Alice had only seen once, and was too afraid to witness herself the second time. 

Trix had grown rabid, wanting to work, and wanting only to pay off his debt since he was free. He became a devout born again, wanting to absolve himself of the guilt of his past life. The  only guilty thing that Alice could consider Trix having done was when he, still a plush toy and not animated one worrying about the cost of inflation, was when he wrecked her 31st consecutive tea party in October when she was ten.

It had taken a ton of organization on her behalf to keep all of her toys apart who didn’t get along for a month of different guests and parties; culminating in that special Halloween party where they would all meet again under new names and different disguises to liberate themselves from their disagreements and settle old debts.

Rocking her tumbler onto a nightstand, Marry made her way across the carpeted floor towards her little Brother’s back.

She felt it, that old familiar tune, the one she would hear when his world was open to be explored. That low, enchanting song that seemed to whisper to anyone who would listen. It sounded like captured words in a rainstorm.

Alice kept her eyes down, only looking up when became close enough to stop and glance from the corner of her eye. A single bone-like finger tapped his flesh along the bottom, above where his waist used to begin. It cracked it like a spiderweb, drawing a red crackled line along his peach flesh.

Darren’s jawline clenched, ground his top and bottom teeth together, pressing each type of tooth from molar to incisor onto his opposite hole. He drove the ivory mouth bones into their places, whittling down one another, bits of plaque and gum spilling out of his mouth.

Alice could not move. She covered her reddening face, tears welling as another tendril of spine whipped out from her brother’s back. Lashing towards the far wall; latching onto the vent above the Price family's stainless steel stove.

Fluffy white fur, stained gray from play and naps poked its head from the hole inside her brother. 

Whiskers twisted on a face missing a button black nose, one that was removed in anger once he was discovered to be living; replaced with a single red piece of Trix.

Gregor became Cavity of time, just like Trix the rabbit was; they all would be. So long as Darren’s spine remained untapped.

The party grew eager to witness the origin of their line cooks' cracked pigmentation. Slowly, they called to Alice, but she could not hear.

She was moving towards her Trix, her bunny, her buddy who was calling towards her to enter the world of youth and never leave.