#horror crossover au

[theladycarpathia]

What waits in the woods part 2

Running with a busted ankle sucks.

Being chased by a psychopath wielding an ax sucks even more.

Unfortunately, these are two very true facts of Eddie’s current situation.

“Go to summer camp,” Eddie mutters under his breath, dodging a low hanging tree branch at the last second. The woods surrounding Camp Starcourt aren’t meant for a desperate chase. They’d been warned their first day about the dangers of the woods from poison ivy to animal holes. It is a dark and creepy place befitting a horror movie and Eddie should have taken the warning and gotten on the first bus back to Hawkins. “Be a counselor, earn some money, it’ll be fun. Sure.” If he survives this, he’s going to give Uncle Wayne hell for those well-meaning words. His uncle had only wanted Eddie to spend a summer outside, instead of in darkened basements for once. How was he to know that the camp would be plagued by a narcissistic crazed killer with no problems about sticking a machete into a teen counselor?

He doesn’t know where anyone is. Last he saw Nancy, she was holding the line armed with the groundskeeper’s shotgun, so that Robin and Vicky could get the rest of the kids onto the bus and out. And he hasn’t seen Billy and Steve since the first murder. They could be anywhere across acres of land, out in the woods, by the lake or back at camp. They’d taken it upon themselves to go out and find anyone they could to tell them to get back to safety. Everyone else just had to bar the doors and wait in the mess hall. He’s not sure where it all went wrong.

The moon is steadily rising overhead, offering him just the faintest light shining down between the thick canopy of branches. It can only be a few hours since this started, but it’s hard to tell when it’s all been a blur of blood and metal and panic. He doesn’t know how many Mr Creel has butchered already. The kids who snuck off to swim in the lake, the nice Russian guy who worked in the mess hall, the counselors smoking weed in the woods. Ten? Twenty? How long can Eddie’s friends survive?

How long can he? 

Because let’s face it, Eddie Munson is no hero. And he fucked up his ankle on a tree root after he’d already offered to draw Henry away, so the chances are good that he’ll end up like Alexei, or Heather, or Troy. He’d only seen poor Alexei, a gushing red crater in his chest, slumped against the side of the arts and crafts cabin. But that was enough, even without Billy’s recollection of the foaming red water out by the lake, or Argyle’s hysteric return with Jonathan when they’d tripped over someone’s leg out in the woods. Just a leg. And then someone’s torso further over. A hand still clutching a joint. All that had been left of some of their fellow counselors was just a gruesome scattering of body parts around a makeshift campfire in a clearing.

He wonders if the bus has gone yet. He hopes his kids are all on it: he saw Dustin, Will and Lucas back at the mess hall. Erica had arrived not long after. But part of the reason Steve and Billy ventured out again was because Mike, El and Max were still missing. By the time they all realized that no one had seen them since dinner, it was too late.

He hopes they’re found. He also deeply pities anyone who might hurt those kids. He thinks of Billy setting up a tripwire, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, and Steve hammering nails into one of the bats from the sports shed. He thinks of Nancy loading rounds into the shotgun, face still tear-streaked from finding Barb’s body. Of Jonathan and Argyle out in the open, just so they can fuel up the bus, risking being cut down so that everyone can make an escape. 

He thinks that Henry Creel really picked the wrong fucking counselors to screw with. 

All except him. All he could do was run, and draw Henry’s attention. But if it gives Chrissy time to get away, it’ll be enough.

Jesus Christ, Chrissy. He hopes that she’s okay. If he does anything worthwhile with his life, let it be this. Let her get away. 

He hears the whistle behind him just in time and throws himself forward. The ax buries itself into the nearest tree, just mere inches from where his head had been. Gasping, Eddie tries to catch his breath, to pull himself up from the dirt and keep going. But a heavy boot comes down on his leg, pressing too close to his fucked ankle. He hisses in pain but twists his head around anyway.

“Honestly, Eddie,” Henry Creel says, shaking his head as though he’s caught Eddie with his hand in the cookie jar. He’s still dressed like he’s going to a business meeting, smart black slacks and a crisp white shirt. The only things out of place are the heavy workman boots he has on his feet - can’t wear anything too impractical when you’re hunting kids down in the woods, after all - and the streaks of blood smeared across his chest, his hands, his face. Eddie feels sick looking at it. It’s Barb’s blood. Angela’s blood. Carol’s blood. 

“Escaping? Not very brave of you,” Henry says, pursing his lips in disappointment. His eyes are ice cold, any of that affable personality wiped clean. It had all only ever been a mask, Eddie realizes. The nice man across the lake, who waved to the campers in their kayaks and read the newspaper on his front porch had been hiding this monster all along. 

“Had to try,” Eddie brazens, just in case. He doesn’t know who else is still out there, still fighting. If Henry is here, then maybe there’s time for the bus to leave. “Got separated from the others.”

“Oh yes,” Henry says, tilting his head. “I’ve encountered some of your fellows. Rather uncouth little bunch.” Eddie catches the pained wince, the fury passing over his eyes. Only then does he look down and notice the red seeping out of the stark black fabric. Eddie grins.

“Someone got you,” he says, and Henry’s face darkens.

“That nasty little girl took a shot at me,” and Eddie feels a flicker of pride. Nancy had shot him.

“You killed her friend,” Eddie says grimly, remembering the firm set of Nancy’s jaw. “You’re lucky you’re not dead.”

“I think it would take more than a petulant child with an old shotgun to kill me,” Henry spits. But it doesn’t matter - Nancy has rattled him, and the blood seeping out of his leg will have weakened him. It’s not enough to save Eddie but maybe Billy and the others will have a chance to. “And I’ve seen those two boys in the woods. All of you are fools and children.”

“That’s a serious fucking complex you have there,” Eddie quips and sucks in a breath as Henry presses down on his hurt ankle. “Seriously though, how the fuck are you going to explain all these dead kids? You’re covered in blood and the weirdo over the lake is going to be their first suspect.” Henry shrugs easily. He seems so unbothered by the lives he’s taken and the consequences of it all. Eddie feels bile in the back of his throat. This is someone truly, terrifyingly dangerous. 

“I’ll blame someone else,” Henry says, calmly. “I’ve done it before.”

Eddie looks up at him in horror. They all knew that the land had been sold to the camp owners by Henry, the last surviving Creel. He’d kept a good few acres over the other side of the lake, but had auctioned off the rest, a chunk to some farmers and the bulk of it for a summer camp. A few of the older counselors had heard a few stories about creepy Mr Creel, claiming that his his house was haunted and other dumb fireside theories. But one thing did ring true: the murder of his sister, Alice, twenty odd years ago.

“You killed your own sister?” Eddie croaks weakly, and Henry smiles. There’s no teeth but it’s the smile of a predator anyway.

“I did,” he says, with a long drawn out, almost pleasured sigh. “And I blamed one of the neighbor boys. Dug a knife into my shoulder and claimed he’d attacked me too. Not that it mattered. My parents knew full well I was the one who’d done it. They removed me from school and ensured that I was locked up at all times.”

“They knew?” Eddie says in disbelief. “But why didn’t they turn you in?”

“It was easier for them not to, I expect,” Henry says, inspecting the blood underneath his fingernails. He’s clearly not worried about Eddie escaping. Even with a shotgun wound, he could probably catch Eddie again in a matter of seconds. “Besides, the shame would have been too much. Your own son butchering his little sister in cold blood? They’d have been pariahs, even more so than for having a murdered child. So instead, I spent my formative years locked in the basement, being fed through a hatch, with only books and my spiders for company.”

“But your parents died,” Eddie says tentatively, and the second smile is more horrifying than the first.

“Oh yes,” Henry says, slowly. “They forgot to properly bolt my door one night. It was easy enough to pick the lock. And I inherited everything, obviously. No one ever knew it was me and I got the freedom I deserved.”

“And then you stopped?” Eddie asks, although even he can’t be foolish enough to not see the bloodlust in those pale eyes. He wouldn’t have stopped. Henry Creel is a monster that needs to feed on other people’s pain.

“Of course not,” says Henry, disdain dripping from every word. “But there’s many people that society won’t notice if they just…suddenly disappeared. Vagrants, drifters, loners. For years after my parents’ deaths, I made do. It was easier to not draw attention to myself.”

“What happened?” Eddie hears himself ask, no matter how badly he doesn’t want the answer. It won’t take back any of the death, knowing the truth won’t make any of it worth it. He doesn’t want to know any more reasoning behind Henry Creel’s sick mind. 

Henry looks at Eddie down his long, aristocratic nose. 

“You all couldn’t keep out,” he says coldly and pulls a long, serrated knife out of his belt. The jagged teeth are already mottled with rust-colored blood and the sight of it makes Eddie’s mouth dry with fear. “All you had to do was keep to your side of the lake. It was in the rules, and yet those children came over to my property. They found the bones buried by the well. They know what I’ve done, so I came over here to make them be quiet. But I couldn’t find them, so I’ll just keep cutting until I do.”

He angles the blade just enough for Eddie to catch sight of his terrified eyes in the reflection of it. 

“What children?” Eddie asks, already half sure of the answer. And sure enough, Henry had seen a long red ponytail vanishing away into the woods with her friends. Max, El and Mike. They’d found Henry’s macabre graveyard and because of it, he’s slaughtered his way across the campsite in search of them. He’ll make sure he kills them and then find someone to blame it on. Murray, the odd man who brings the supplies every Monday. Maybe he’ll blame one of the teens in the woods and hide the body so no one will ever know that they didn’t run away. Maybe he’ll murder Billy and claim the shotgun wound in his leg as evidence that Henry only just escaped from a madman. Billy with his jeans and cigarette smoke and matchbox temper would be an easy enough target to pin it all on. And anyone who knows Billy well enough to fight it would be dead.

And Eddie now knows the truth. There’s no way he can get out now.

He tries anyway, pulling against Henry’s hold but it only makes his ankle scream in pain. Eddie scrabbles against the grass, clawing against the mud with his fingernails, searching for anything to fight with. But it’s too late and Henry is leaning down over him, angling the blade to slice open his throat…

When the blade comes down, Eddie screams, the sound echoing across the dark woods. 

He and Henry stare at each other, frozen in a single, heavy second. Henry’s pale eyes are shocked and disbelieving. He opens his mouth to say something and a wet glob of blood comes out instead, dripping down his chin and onto Eddie’s camp shirt. Eddie looks at the knife clutched in Henry’s limp fingers and then up, past Henry, past the ax buried deep into his back and to the figure gripping the wooden handle with all her might.

Chrissy wrenches the ax free, and if Eddie hadn’t been in love before, he definitely is now. There’s a wild look in her eyes, mud and blood smeared across her cheek in equal measure. She’s still wearing his denim jacket that he’d slung across her shoulders to keep her warm. She raises the ax again, just as Henry twists around and with a primal scream, she buries the metal deep into the meat of his torso. She’s not the same girl that Eddie has spent all summer with, the one that made daisy chains and wore cute little scrunchies and dripped chocolate down her chin. She’s something wild and fierce, clenching her jaw in fury as she digs in the ax in further. Henry makes a choking sound, more blood dripping down his neck and the knife slips from his fingers to the ground. He drops to his knees and, finally free, Eddie wriggles back as fast as he can, kicking the knife away with his working foot for good measure.

But it’s not needed. Chrissy pulls the ax free once more, a terrible wet sound as it comes away from Henry’s body. Without it, Henry falls down to the ground. His eyes stare balefully at Chrissy as he takes a weak, gasping breath - once, twice, thrice…and then nothing. The murderer of Camp Starcourt is dead.

“Chrissy?” Eddie says and suddenly, the terrifying creature that had stood there wielding an ax is gone and she’s just Chrissy again. Only Chrissy.

“Are you okay?” she gasps, dropping the ax to the ground with a thud and hurrying over. He stares up at her, the moonlight softening her; every red curl, every eyelash, the brilliant blue of her eyes.

“Wow,” Eddie says, dumbfounded. 

“Eddie?” she prods, brow furrowed in concern, and Eddie curls his hand around her neck to pull her down to him. It’s not how he imagined their first kiss, lying on the forest floor, caked in pine needles and blood, with a busted ankle and a corpse cooling nearby, but it’s perfectly sweet no less. 

“Sorry,” Eddie babbles the minute they’ve pulled away. He’s not entirely sure what possessed him to kiss Chrissy Cunningham out of the blue - aside from the all consuming crush that’s choked him all summer, but that’s still no reason to not ask. “Shit, I’m really sorry.”

“What for?” she asks, tilting her head in confusion. Her eyes are bright, one hand curled into the loops of his jeans. This fact alone is enough to stall his brain.

“You’re taken,” Eddie explains slowly. Just in case she’s forgotten, but the last five hours have been pretty traumatic. “You’re dating Jason.” She gives a loud snort.

“Jason literally used me as a human shield, I think he’ll understand that we’ve broken up,” she says dryly. 

There’s heavy footfall in the woods behind them and they both flinch, as though they expect another murderer to appear out of the dark. But then a torchlight falls down on them and when Eddie blinks away the spots, it’s just Steve and Billy standing there. Billy’s got blood smeared across his mouth, one hand gripping a pistol and a knife strapped to his thigh. Steve’s bright yellow sweater is ripped at one shoulder but he wields the nailed bat like it’s Excalibur. Aside from some cuts and exhaustion, they’re both alive and well.

“Everyone okay?” Steve asks, anxiously, but Billy’s eyes fall on Henry at once.

“Holy shit,” he exhales, stalking around Eddie and Chrissy to take a better look. “Munson, you do this?”

“No way,” Eddie holds up his hands. “It was all her, dude.” Billy raises an eyebrow, taking in Chrissy, drowning in Eddie’s denim jacket.

“Damn,” he says and prods the body with a toe. “Guess that’s us out of the game, Harrington.” Steve rolls his eyes and slings the bat over his shoulder.

“There is no game, Hargrove,” he says wearily before he looks down at Henry. “Is he definitely dead?” Billy snorts and kicks Henry’s ribs with more than a little vitriol. Eddie suspects that if Billy knew the killer had been hunting down Max, there’d be a Henry-shaped scarecrow in the middle of a large bonfire in the centre of camp.

“Course he’s dead,” Billy spits back. Chrissy tugs Eddie’s arm around her shoulder, just to give him enough of a boost to get to his feet. She doesn’t move, even once he’s upright, and he thinks he could get used to her being there.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t he be dead?” Billy continues and Steve squirms. Whatever tentative friendship that had begun this summer is apparently back to its normal footing, with their usual jibes back and forth. For a little while at camp, when Eddie had seen them working side by side he thought he’d seen…never mind. Maybe it’s gone. Maybe they just don’t want anyone else to see.

“They never stay dead in movies,” Steve mutters sheepishly. Billy’s face does an interesting contortion somewhere between exasperated and fond.

“No shit, Harrington, that’s movies,” he starts to say when Henry shifts at his feet, a rattling exhale drifting from between his pale, bloodied lips.

It might be nerves or quick thinking on Steve’s part but the bat comes down squarely in Henry’s back before the rest of them can even react. They stare silently as the corpse goes quiet once more.

“Harrington,” Billy says, impressed. Steve wrenches the bloodied bat free and grins.

“Told you,” he says and swans off into the trees, unaware of Billy’s admiring look. 

“Do we just leave him here?” Chrissy whispers as they slowly follow Billy and Steve. Out of the woods, back to camp and the dawn inching its way over the hills. They’ll need to see who survived, comfort the wounded, gather the dead. Official people will descend on the camp, putting a swift end to the summer. 

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the still figure of Henry Creel and thinks that maybe the woods would be best to take him. Let him join the rest of the bones he buried, the end of the Creels.

“Yeah,” Eddie says decisively. “Let him rot.” @hellcheerweek

[zillychu]

i think they would be friends

[stillpanicking]

Road trip of Horror

"Jazzy-kin?"

"Here!"

"Danny-Boy?"

"Here."

"Dan the Man?"

"Ugh... here."

"Nelly-Bell?"

"Here, dad!"

Jack smiled at the sight of his children. He turned back to see Maddie shooting him a smile before calling out for all of them to get into the GMV, that they were burning sunlight. They needed to be at Gotham soon as possible. They were being sponsored by Wayne Enterprise for a project and the family decided to make it into a road trip.

A very twisted fun road trip.

-.-

"Uh... dad... Where's Danny and Dan?"

In the distance a clown laughed as he kidnapped twin teens, planning on using them as hostages.

That poor... poor... well. He had it coming.

"Can I kill him?"

"You're still on parole."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"Eh.... don't feel like it yet."

"Should we leave now or later?"

"If we leave now, he'll take another hostage. Later... mom and dad will kick his ass. He'd be lucky if Jazz gets to him first."

"You know.... I'm not in a hurry to run off yet."

"You just want to see his head on a pike."

"Don't you?"

"I mean... that's if Batman doesn't save us first."

"Ugh... Hope not."

-.-

Are.... are they his kids?

Black hair.

Blue eyes.

Very similar features.

"My boys!!!!!"

[iamespecter]

Hi. I have new stuff to show. There are more coming as well, I just had to stop with three for now because it's so hot rn.

(tw for body horror)! | Digital Nightmares post

Now, when tackling the monster designs for this little crossover, I had to keep in mind what made the LN monsters so unique and uncanny in the first place. Which meant simple, but exaggerated, contorting body horror features. I had to not stray from original TADC concepts and try to embody them in these designs as best as possible, and made them extra grotesque. For Jax's case, he's become a farmer that also doubles as a scarecrow, something he asked the Doll (Ragatha) to do to him. His purple complexion is the result of this decision.

There's also the factor of making them have more muted colors as opposed to bright and saturated ones, to really make it hit home and the cast would fit in the universe of Little Nightmares (even though the environments are most definitely not gonna be the same as the games, since the monsters' environments reflect their occupation/role) Ragatha in this one is a Dollmaker whom had an unfortunate run in with the Entomologist (Kinger), resulting in stitches.

The designs may look simple enough, but make no mistake; I had a TON of trouble figuring out how to incorporate the TADC cast into a more monstrous versions of themselves because of just how vastly different the vibes between the two medias are. These designs underwent at least 2-3 tries before being finalized, because goddamn character design is my passion but does it kick ass sometimes Good ol' Kinger here is an Entomologist (Insect collector), who doesn't like his "focus" on his work and belongings being disturbed. He has two detached hands that roam around.

Obviously this isn't where it ends because I still have to do Gangle, Zooble, Gummigoo, Gloink Queen and Loolilalu (Maybe even Martha Mildenhall) so this may be a multiple part series.

Not to mention, Pomni and Caine's monster selves too because I'm not gonna ignore that, everyone becomes a monster in this and no one can stop meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[charlietheepicwriter7]

S̶̤̋̉t̸o̶̝̍r̵̛͠m̸̠͌͝

Look, I know I promised a continuation of "Get in the Water," but I had this idea and just had to write it, okay? So this is the non-canon sequel, the canon one is still in progress.

They escaped. Batman dragged Damian's frozen body away from the Lazarus Pit and through the tunnels as Danyal's screams-sobs-wails echoed behind them. Eventually the sound ebbed away and they emerged to the surface.

A debrief was demanded from everyone; even Todd was in the Cave. Damian trembled, his only sign of distress, his mind stuck on Danyal's face, his brother's voice rebounding around his head.

Father's debrief had been rough. Damian could barely explain what happened, why he was drawn to the waters, why Danyal wanted to drown him. He'd only explained the Danyal was someone he'd killed while with the League, and Father was the only one to doubt his explanation.

Damian took the first opportunity to escape to the showers. Stripping down, Damian turned the faucet and the bathroom lit up bright green.

He flinched away, and when he opened his eyes, the water was just water. A stone sunk into his stomach.

The next day, while Father was consulting with Justice League Dark, Grayson and Drake returned to the caves for their own investigation of the Pits. And while they found the cavern--found by tracking the batarang Father threw--it was desert dry. There was no sign of Lazarus Water, nor did it look like it had ever been there.

That night, as Damian was washing his face before bed, he filled the sink basin with water. He turned away for one second, but when he looked back, he almost dipped his face under the green slime oozing out the spout. He bolted, and when he returned with a startled Father, the water had returned to normal.

Grayson insisted on taking him out for lunch the following day, citing that Damian needed a "break." Damian was furious, but allowed it; Justice League Dark was visiting the cave to discuss the... incident, and Damian wanted to interrogate them. He... he needed to know if that was really Danyal or not. If his sweet brother could have been twisted after his murder into that monster, that Siren crooning at him to choose to die.

He'd never contemplated the fate of his brother's immortal soul before. Had he done this to him? Could Damian had avoided this by killing him honorably, instead of cowardly poisoning Danyal so he'd pass away in his sleep?

Damian allowed Grayson order for him. He wasn't hungry. The clouds above swirled ominously as he followed Grayson to a nearby awning with a picnic bench underneath.

Grayson took a bite of his gyro. "So? How have you been coping these past few days?"

"I'm not an invalid, Grayson," Damian hissed, glaring. "I'm fine."

A frozen breath brushed across his ear. "Ĺ̶̥̲̪̀̐ỉ̷̢̜̚a̴̧͖͛r̶̺̫̾͗̃͜,̶͕̐" Danyal whispered in his ear.

Grayson didn't notice or hear Danyal's voice. "You see, I don't believe you. One of your dead League friends is supernaturally gunning for you, Dami; it's normal to feel out of sorts."

Damian scoffed. "Nothing about this situation is normal."

He looked down at his food and sighed. "Yeah, that's for sure. I'm sorry, Damian. I wish this wasn't happening to you."

"And I wish the creature would just attack already," Damian griped. "It's the waiting that will kill me, not that fake."

Like someone had been listening, the sky opened up and it rained green throughout Gotham.

[eeriedragone]

THE HUNT and THE FLESH (1/?)

(1) (2) (3) (4)

More ideas for my DE x TMA crossover thingy: instead of Skills, Jon has the Fears (and there is a reason for this). I was wondering if instead of being called their more well-known names, they'd be something less obvious, bc Jon has no clue as to what these voices are yet. Maybe the Hunt could be called "Chase"/"Pursuer"/"Wolf"/"Hound"....

[kidokear]

I'm honestly not sure if this needs content warning, but just to be safe.

TW: Mechanical horror, insect imagery.

Concepting some robo-body horror for my UltraSolver AU. I like this one the most out of the 3 designs I made.

[xx-sketchy-xx]

Julie gangle

Uh oh, i seem to be making each of them smashed together. Take the blerssed

[avisdymart]

I believe i did something while crossovering Rollo Flamme from Twisted Wonderland and Midsommar

[an-albino-pinetree]

There was no way I wasn’t immediately gonna jump at the chance to draw this dude, I love him 💜🌾

Guys, please go check out @iamespecter ‘s Little Digital Nightmares concepts, they are SO COOOOL!!

[creatorping]

Plant Luigi in Little Shop of Horrors!

artfight revenge on @lu1g199

[sweeneydino]

Infinite Foods.

+ live dad Leo and uncle reaction

I'm genuinely okay...

[pics-pizza-peace]

Lawrence Gordon (Saw 2004) Pony Cosplay

[nobody-nexus]

Hey remember when I said not to expect a lot of art from me?

Well-

I had this in my head for like.... 5-6 days??? And I said "FUCK IT" and made it all in ONE DAY because why the fuck not? I NEEDED this out of my head SO BADLY in order to properly work on Dance Rush

Casino Mafia AU made by @sywene-06

Carnival AU made by @sm-baby

Horror Circus AU made by @ark-fork

Corruption AU made by @rabid-mercenary16

Freakshow AU made by @hootbon

Fight Club AU made by @burrotello

Digital Hallucinations originally made by OR3O

This cover I used for the animatic was made by Pastel on Youtube, here's the link to the full cover here

Please give love and support to everyone who was mentioned! They all worked hard on these AUs and this cover and I ask that you give them the attention they ALL deserve!

These are some of my favorite AUs, some I do truly need to draw more often, and I hope that they all enjoy this as much as you do ^^

Anyway back to my little cave I go. Next time I post will probably be about Dance Rush. For now, I'll be off ^^

[gumixin]

dumping these cuz idk where to post them 😓😓

Sometimes I like to think of Rouge as part of the Bad Sanses because I can't help but merge these two fandoms HEHE

Error belongs to loverofpiggies

[emacrow]

When Danny hides his corpses along with Elle and Dan.. those fucking Archaeologists are persistent little shits then shenanigans happens..

He hide them in the Antarctica, where barely any humans goes beside a couple groups of persistent scientists living there and the hidden society of cannibalistic humaniod yetis....

There was no way anyone could find their bodies under 60 feet of snow and frozen millennium ice...

Ancients be damned 4 months later, danny felt a disturbance in his hidden grave only to see History News found 3 preserved corpses perfectly intact in a solid crystallized looking coffin the God damn Antarctica.

Took him a solid 5 days to find the right God forsaken headquarters of those Archaeologists who already send their bodies to gotham...

He about to flip his lid, especially as it was getting to him very badly... by how sleep deprived his ghost side was being to the point that the disturbed.. eldritch part of his very being was slipping a bit..

Then the truck driving with their corpses got stolen by some low grade wanna be villain by the name of 'the penguin'.

Who has his goons trying to break the crystal coffin into pieces with how priceless it beholding.

Danny brought Elle and Dan into this because he doesn't know gotham and three heads work better then one with the search out.

By the time, they actually found the Right fucking Hideout; because how many fucking hideout does a fucking penguin needs.

They were too late by a fucking hour, because of course something had to take their coffin.

Penguins already look arrested and it seem Batman got their coffin, whom had sent it to the Watchtower to get analyzed after they found a heart beating after 40 minutes to the batcave..

Danny wanted to ghost screamed by then...

(Wayyy later in the plot that I'll never finish)

Constantine whom is about to drinking scotch whiskey before it slapped by the ghostly eldritch child who shoving an glowing green smoothie in his hands for the 3rd time.

He look at them with a begrudgingly look who glares back at him with the similar mom glare looks before he sighed and drink the smoothie.

He ain't admitting it taste so much fucking better then his usual whiskey for shit.

Meanwhile Elle is enjoying having a younger halfa to bother even if his core is all types of fucked up and looking worse then a apple that fell off the ugly tree, got shredded by a wood chipper, mashed back together and then peeled off by a potato peeler before stomped on.