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pilichainartandmemes · 9 months ago

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Malevolent fic - Big Fat Taco

They had reached the terminus, enemies on the plateform and on their tail. His aim cannot be trusted and his eyes stutter at mirages. So down, down, down it goes.

I just think that if you won’t dig into a guy with your bare hands for your apocalypse rock, you don’t deserve it. ;) The idea would't leave me and so here is the result of four intense days of writing before the season four finale comes out later today(well tomorrow in my case). Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did putting it together!

Warnings: Canon typical violence, gore, non consensual platonic touching, major character death and choking.

Cross posted on AO3

“ I… I think we’ve built enough distance between us and them… Care to explain what I’m supposed to do with this rock now”, panted Arthur leaning against the wall absolutely lost. The faster they got rid of it, the sooner they could leave this blasted place. Because of course Noel had to find out at the worst possible time about John’s past. Of course they lost the bloody gun while escaping the detective and the cultists. Of course Larson found out where Oscar was the same way he did for Daniel and-

“ -thur! Arthur! What is the point of me explaining if you don’t fucking listen? We are going to open a portal. Just like how we dealt with Scratch.”

“ … That’s it," laughed Arthur weakly, "the grand end to the order of the fallen star comes down to throwing a rock into whatever hell we find. Then we hope whatever’s on the other side can’t use it? What if we unleash whatever power is inside the Black Stone? Exactly just like what happened with Scratch!”

“I don’t hear YOU coming up with any ideas! We still need to escape this place and k- clearly many cultists so we might as well… jump in?”

“Jesus fucking christ, John... I didn’t miss taking very literal leaps of faith into the unknown with you.”

“Likewise but with our luck it was a matter of time.”

“Indeed it was. Shame we don’t have the pages but I assume you wouldn’t propose this if you didn’t remember. Am I right, John?”

“Of course I do! Now let me focus… Sed obscuratus nox quaeso mundenetis…”

“Sed obscuratus nox quaeso mundenetis…”

“Impertus meter amicum allundem num.”

“Depli mon faenis de tua quae… quae frequens? No. Frenusculi ? No it wasn’t that either !”

“John! I thought you said you knew the incantation!”

“YES I KNOW IT! Damnit Arthur, you say that as if you don’t forget to keep our eyes open for me every day!”

“Fine! Fine! For both our sakes think quickly!” And yet as he retorted back, Arthur began to calculate their odds. From past experiences those bouts of amnesia seemed temporary so they could still manage to open the portal. However with the delay and more people seeing where the stone went, just a throw would not work. Would the cultists even hesitate at the idea of entering the portal? If those madmen didn’t, they would have to fight for every second. Okay so they needed protection or at least something to keep their opponents at bay.

Tuning out John’s frustrated cusses at the Latin language itself, he patted their bag and pockets. Starting a fire was a last resort and could wait until they had an actual escape window. The bestiary wouldn’t be of help against humans. That left them with their unlucky dagger, regardless of John’s insistence to get rid of it. The weapon wouldn’t win against a gun or more than two cultists. But it was their also very last resort… Should they lose it in the scuffle or…

What if Arthur missed again? It wouldn't be the first time his shoddy aim betrayed them when it mattered the most. They would not have another chance to get the stone and he doubted John would accept retreat after dragging them all the way to New York for it. The moment they lost sight, ha, of the rock was the moment Larson won. They needed a hiding place or at least somewhere the cultists would not think to look into…

“Oh. John no matter what continue trying to remember the spell. I just found the smartest way to get the black stone into the portal! Trust me!”

“- tua quae frenae! FRENAE! It was frenae! Wait... What do you mean smartest?” His friend asked cautiously but he didn’t have enough time to react as Arthur grabbed the rock from their pocket and shoved it down their throat.

Neither John or Arthur’s body were keen on the plan. The Black Stone burnt as he could feel it move past his throat into his… veins? Evidently the cursed object didn’t care for human biology and would go wherever it pleased. If he could just… nudge it towards… THERE!

“Arthur, are you out of your goddamn mind?! Spit it out! Come on!”

“ We’re fine… absolutely fine! Now,” just as he said that a tremor shook their spine and it took all their combined focus to not fall face first, “NOW we don’t have to worry about cultists with deft hands.”

“Do you really think given how we first met him he would stop at taking your life to get his hands on the Black Stone?” His partner growled, and yet beneath it worry laced into his every word.

“Larson? He did hurt many people but it was always through others. Like the butcher or the creature in the mines.” He retorted, confused and wondering not for the first time who scared his friend more than the King or their current enemies.

“Of course! Who else would be after us? This building is crawling, I mean, full of cultists. Surely this kind of... miscreants would have no issue going through us for this artifact.”

“Miscreants… Really, John? Anyway it doesn’t matter!” One more time. If Arthur could ignore the elephant in the room between them one more time, they would actually be fine.

They did not even finish the first sentence of the spell before a shot rang out and a sharp pain took over their right leg. Head and knee promptly were introduced with the wall that would have housed their gate. Shame Larson didn’t account for the headache or John’s yelling before starting to gloat. Another spasm coursed through as he tried to turn around. Its tango with their new wound left the duo a heap of limbs on the floor. Hopefully the view was still better than the wall. The heat that had been building behind their eyes flared and Arthur bit down hard to keep them open, inhaling sharply.

“Well it seems whatever tricks you had in mind backfired in more ways than one. Arthur, did you truly think you waltz your way into my domain unscathed?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely! But maybe you never went back to Addison? I could always give you a refresher.” He could stall. Get the dagger out, have John could carve the incantation and smear it with blood. Surely they could skip the spoken part that way. Just needed to create a blind spot for them.

Evidently however, unlike Arthur, Larson did see the move coming and stomped on the left half of it. Ignoring his partner’s shouts, he awkwardly flipped on his side. Holding on tight to Larson’s ankle, he sliced at the heel. Shoddy aim and his body complaining every step of the way didn’t leave a deep enough wound. Regardless it was enough for the prick to retreat out of range. Maybe the floor was okay for now as their two functional limbs were split fifty-fifty. Well if you didn’t count the shoulder on the same side getting shot the day before. Speaking of bullets, another lodged itself into the carpet right by his ear as he jolted at the noise and ringing that followed.

“You appear to be the one in need of a reminder of the current situation apparently. Now stop staring at the barrel and tell me where the Black Stone is?”

“For once luck is on our side: Larson didn’t witness your crowning act of idiocy. Keep. Him. Talking! Every bullet in the floor is a bullet that isn’t in our body.”

“Now that’s a bit of a wild guess! Why would little old me have any idea… what that is? I figured I could crash whatever party you had in town, as you know, a payback. It has been… quite a busy week.” Arthur laced that last sentence with all the venom which had piled up over the last few days. It hadn’t even been a full fortnight since the Dreamlands for fuck’s sake.

“Your strange habit of pausing at odd times remains, how queer”, pondered Larson while his enemy attempted to stand again, less graceful about it than a fish on dry land, “I assume you do not need further help emptying your pockets.”

“Listen. Why don’t I smash your head in? Shot you. Step on your hand. THEN you can see how easy it is to focus.”

“I’m afraid I’ll pass the offer…. what is all THIS junk?” Larson asked in disdain as Arthur tried to open the bag with one hand only for the contents to spill out. Fantastic! Turns out he had been holding it upside down!

“The glass, the stone, the mask, the books, the tooth, the coin, the wallet and hooks, the kit of course to help him shave are all in Arthur's bag today. But don’t forget the dagger, the flute, the keys and the lighter that keeps the darkness at bay.” The familiarity of matching a series of notes calmed him down just a little. It didn’t matter that the source of that particular song had been fresh out of a bloodbath.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Shooting the lock and letting that creature at the crowd to get the stone was genius compared to this. And why did you have to bring him up? Wait- there’s someone coming up around the corner!

“… No matter. Unlike you, I have all night, my wits about me and only friends here.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

“Arthur, it’s Noel! He managed to get past our distraction and is holding Larson at gun point. His shoulder seems to be injured. His sleeves are torn with large dents matching the claws of that thing. If we could somehow turn them against each other, there may enough time to run. Or at least get the portal open.”

“Are you sure about this, detective? It would be poor etiquette as Arthur’s plus-one to have him killed.” Replied Larson as if this entire ordeal was nothing more than an argument at the local pub.

“That won’t be a problem. The plan isn’t to arrest him. Dreadful accidents happened with that many candles in smaller establishments. At the same time, testimonies of assault on the treasurer of another sect, maiming and murder have been connected to him.”

Of course John decided that was the right moment to needle his partner about the decision to give his name to the secretary. As if they had anyone else beside Daniel to be introduced to the freemasons. Surely Oscar or his father would vouch for Arthur’s character… at least for some of these accusations. Not that it would amount to much if they didn’t make it out alive. Still he feared being wanted in a big city would make it harder for him to move around the States or to leave them.

“Cults like these prey on people facing hard times and get them to commit atrocities in the name of some big guy above or below. Nobody wants to believe their parent, friend or tenant would choose to be involved in shady stuff. If they can’t look at the evidence, they can bother some PI looking to make ends meet this month.” Noel finished, exhaustion slipping into that last sentence. No doubt the detective had to explain cases like these to clients both in Arkham as a private investigator then as a policeman in New York.

“That’s quite the story you wrote there! Have you ever considered becoming a playwright? Addison may not be a high production stage but you’ll have a captivated crowd and the support of a patron of the arts.” Larson drawled while he slowly drew his gun away from the thief. Although one didn’t need sight to guess he wasn’t about it.

“No thanks. I dealt with enough theater obsessed lemon suckers a few years ago. Then again this crony here is the reason I’m here tonight. Take out those cartridges and kick the weapon away… Jesus, my grandmother would have done better than that.”

“And Wallace is old enough to have met her in her heyday. He just had to throw his daughter at the monsters for that privelege! Clearly he’s the biggest threat here, Charlie. Everything you see at my feet is what I had on me tonight. There is no stupid rock!”

“Oh please, we all saw you leave with it! Would you quit acting like you care about the wellbeing of children anymore than respecting the divine or your elders. If that were true, she would still be here. Your precious little Fa-”

Arthur wasn’t about to let him finish. Compared to the Butcher or the ghoul, Larson was a lightweight. They didn’t need a knife. He would choke the life out of the piece of shit, one-handed if he had to. The monster didn’t get to speak her name.

Someone grabbed for his collar and yanked. He trashed hoping to grab onto his first opponent for stability. Unfortunately their body was acquainted yet again with wall, this time shoulder firsts. The shock didn’t have time to settle in before a punch in the gut had him hitting bedrock.

“Jesus fucking Christ… Do not call me that ever again. As if his highness would tell some guy his grand plan. He stole that name, that voice and is now using it to drag you around wherever he likes. This thing isn’t your friend.”

“You know nothing! You humans act so high and mighty pretending kindness is inherent to living from the very moment of your birth. Care to guess what happened at mine? I was shoved into a hell worse than you could possibly imagine where neither time nor death has meaning. So yes! More often than not I lie rather than put my trust into people who have earnt it. I go for the throat when I feel even a little cornered. Everyone here has done that so stop fucking pretending any of you are gentle souls!” John’s truth burnt and yet his head felt clearer than it had since swallowing that rock. In the trail of that shooting star, Arthur just had to speak it all out loud for the rest of the world to hear. “Besides I can’t even get him to walk into a movie theater and sit still for fifty minutes.”

Nobody else said anything for a long while. Arthur could feel the fever chewing at his brain as they both caught their breaths from having pushed too far their limits. In the rare moment of quiet, he took notice of something familiar. Back with Parker, they had to look inside a freezer for clues and for lack of adequate clothing got forced to take turns. The cold current from back then it crawled the exact same way in the gap between his socks and his pants at his ankles. Out of damning curiosity he reached out and-

“Oops, thank you, totally missed by cue there. You gotta understand, detectives! I was so captivated by all those twists, turns and delightful noises, I got… distracted Man, I am going to miss not knowing the plot ahead of time. With that said, great surprise party everyone!”

“… it’s him”, John all the bravery snuffed out like a candle, “he’s squatting on our left, barefoot like back in the dreamlands. Ah. He’s what happened to our distraction. I can see its iridescent blood shining eerily against the black of his suit. In his hand there is a very large flat bread folded in two. There is so much garniture; you could not it around without half of the ingredients falling off. No it’s more than that. The sauce, a few drops hang by a thread as if they won’t fall unless he wills it.”

“Damn. Someone get an oxygen mask! This guy just wrote a spiel about a big fat taco.”

Without thinking Arthur flung himself in the opposite direction and despite the pain crawled as fast and as far as he could. Suddenly his brain connected the dots on the topic and person John had been avoiding to speak of this past week. Of fucking course it had to be that guy! He rasped out every word of the incantation he could remember, hoping John would follow suit. Unfortunately for them that distance didn’t mean very much I practice as clearly Kayne had no issue reeling them back so close he could feel the entity’s breath on his neck.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Arthur! Don’t say more, I- I can get us out of this!”

“Aww, you didn’t have to wrap up my present like that! At this point it’s not just pretty paper and a bow… I can’t simply tear it up with how much love was put into this.” Singsonged the devil flicking back and forth his prey’s damaged earlobe.

Okay that was way too much: the uncomfortable heat beneath his skin and in his head, John’s apologies as he tried to grab their captor’s attention, the strange texture of the definitely non-human hands. He needed out now!

“How does it feel to be New York’s most wanted catch? You got quite a number hooked, ha! Hooked, get it? It’s the only reason you’re still alive after all!” Kayne asked flipping their body to so the three were face to face, one arm wrapped around their waist and the other holding their chin. Arthur bit down on the ‘hand’.

Everything went white as a chorus of complaints and cheers flooded his ears. Slowly he could make out Parker’s voice questioning his partner’s sanity in taking on that eating competition even with that big of a price at stake. Distant and muffled as if coming from under water or maybe he was the one below the surface. His suit must have been an absolute mess if his loudest detractor was to be believed. Thick black ink, blood or possibly both, dripped heavily and slowly like licorice down his jaw onto the shaky floor of the caboose. The fresh liquid cooled his brain boiled by the black sun. Broken skin was good. Broken skin meant he could break this down one bite at a time. Experimentally he twisted the flesh beneath his teeth and pulled. Yet the other end refused to snap clean. Instead it extended like cheese on pizza. Instinctively he opened his mouth and attempted catch the falling strings with his teeth.

“I know I’m the most special treat but I’m afraid I need your head not twenty leagues in the gutter.” Finger snapped and his jaws snapped down on empty air. His mind flailed around for the right frequency to reconnect with his senses.

“Let’s make a new deal! No stone as long as you don’t let us go. Or I-I take it with Arthur to the Dark World!” John’s weak bargain and threat was met with derisive laughter.

“Now why would I ask for something I already hold in my own hands? No, no, no! I’m going to enjoy this all-in-one King’s cake, hot and cold, treasure hunt. This time you can even call a friend instead the usual back-seaters. Much faster and less chances of cheating if you ask me!” The devil muttered something about being forced to write a C option to A or B conundrum. “Though really I guess it’s fifty-fifty: the other day there was that guy. I knew him from head to toe. Not you two. I see other people. Like I said! Every line of his silly little life! Urgh middle school production level, at best. And still! Still he managed to surprise me!”

Two hands clapped together as if to put a close to that intermission. The next moment Arthur was back on the floor and he didn’t like how his brain almost let out a sigh of relief at that sensation. The less was said, the less fun Kayne would have. Bar was low, even for them, but so was the ground. The devil said something about first tries removing obvious options before driving a hand into their stomach. Arthur shouted, violent shivers rocking his spine as their body fought vainly to twist out of the way on pure reflex. Unfortunately their digestive tract refused to admit defeat and heaved to expel the unknown intruder back up his throat. Shame malevolent entities didn’t care for the laws of physics and thus he was left coughing bile. Some of which came straight back down his throat.

“Now that the dud is out of the way, am I warm or icy?”

“Fuck you!” Arthur spat out.

“Uh… Cold?”

“Well fuck you too, John!”

“Do you think I’m happy about this?! I was the one sewing this shit back up while you took a bloody nap!” His partner snapped, spewing the vitriol at Arthur since he was too afraid to do the same towards Kayne. Sensing aggression would only have his partner push back, John tried to put himself down as the reasonable one. Hilarious if you asked Arthur given they had left sanity back at his office in Arkham. “Shut up and tell me where the stone is. Please!”

“Not three hours ago we walked into this… rat hole because YOU said we couldn’t leave a bloody rock into their hands! Now you’re telling me! That the doomsday device of the week would … Christ… safe in Kayne’s hands?”

“Artie, you’re such a worrier! No truly. Think of it as, hmmm, the battery of Mister Universe’s alarm clock. The grey part is sort of its casing and I like to picture the red one as a fog horn. Really the world popping out of existence is not even part of the equation. I mean do YOU think about all the bugs crushed setting up picnics? Of course you don’t! Hahaha that would be stupid, am I right? Anyyyway it’s time for take two, gentlemen and entities!”

Take two in fact involved exploring his intestines and accidentally popping their appendix like a cherry. Of course the only apology he got was a ‘whoospie-daisy’ and a quip about John being lucky the book didn’t land him there. “I mean what would have happened at the first argument? Sending the guy straight to the hospital cause you exploded on him?! … actually that would be funny to see I should check before waking Daddy up.” Arthur still tried to slap or push back Kayne’s hands. Totally useless of course but it was better than licking boots the way John did. Especially when the devil clearly wasn’t interested in bargaining. He would like to not be the reason the world ended, thank you very much. The third strike at their lungs yielded as many complaints and yet the stone remained missing. While Arthur could still feel Kayne was merely playing, he wasn’t sure how much longer that would last.

“Your train friend – what did he call himself again, the butcher – wasn’t wrong you know? About the music analogies! It’s all about hitting the right keys. A bit of tuning might be needed with how battered this body is though. Hopefully I won’t have to hit the entire board to find my gift. I really, truly, deeply”, and with each word pressing his fingers right into the still fresh bullet wound, “would hate for it to be lost in all the wrapping!”

“Maybe… you’re just… bad at looking…” Wheezed Arthur inbetween coughs. Even as they remained on the floor he was struggling to stay afloat. Their boiling head had apparently decided to keep all the heat for itself instead of sharing. It left him both shivering and sweating bullets enough to turn Larson into swiss cheese had they been actual ammunition.

“Actually you’re right… It is time to call a friend! Let’s get to it, we have candidate number one: Wallace Larson from the quaint little town of Addison, here to retrieve the sacred artifact for the Order of –what was it again – the shooting star? Who cares! And candidate number two, Arthur’s plus-one-turned-nemesis, detective Noel from the New York Police Department! Who will take a shot at retrieving the Black Stone and earn the ultimate mystery price?! I for one cannot wait to find out!” The devil announced loudly before finishing in a false hushed tone. “Candidate number three having yet to manifest himself shall remain anonymous… for now.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not putting my hands in that!” Shouted Larson as if the very scenario was a personal offense to his character. There was a long pause until he threw a retort at… someone? John had said there were only three people in this corridor aside from them both…

“Oh I’ll take a shot, alright.” Noel’s voice derailed his theory that he was the universe’s chew toy tonight in particular. Then Arthur heard several rounds attempt to drown out Kayne’s rising laughter.

“Noooooo! What could poor little old me do against… human ingenuity. And so I die… To our hero’s quick draw and wit! ARGh!” A confused John told his partner about the performance as the devil had dropped to his knees, grasping his torso in overly exaggerated agony then met face first with the floor.

Athur felt it before it happened: the change of pressure in the air, how they were leaving the eye of storm and about to meet the worst of it. He just needed to do one thing right tonight, just one little thing! Turn what little energy he has left past his throat into a shout to run, to live, to save Noel.

“SURPRISE!”

He startled as several party poppers and blowers went off. Blood spattered everywhere. Propping himself self up for that warning proved to have been a mistake as projectiles collided with their chest. Some small and hard but others squishy and much more wet. He went back down with hiss, head swimming as his mind slipped

Down,

Down.

“Fuck. FUCK! Noel! His head! It exploded! It’s all over the floor. Kayne… he… popped out of Noel’s neck. His old body has melted into the carpet. It has left a deep black imprint, the edges fizzling but not catching fire. Larson is throwing up beside the left wall. It’s not just the blood... I can identify… parts. An entire eye landed into our chest earlier! It rolled by our side now. There are also a few teeth lodged into our right shoulder. What I thought were confetti in the air were actually fragments of skin. I’m sorry Arthur. I don’t know… I don’t know how to salvage this.”

No trip to England. No letter to Marie. No night at the movie theater. John’s misshaped hand clutched their chest. Their heart was still beating. It didn’t care for gods, grief or pain. It just was.

“What a blast, am I right?! One down, two to go. UNLESS! Our main attraction wishes to open up at last. The hand you were dealt with was pretty bad but you pulled through! Atta boys! Who cares about the finish line? It’s all about the journeyyyyy! So come on, there’s no need to be a sore loser.”

They couldn’t win. Not by a country mile. But..

It didn’t mean Kayne had to.

“Well, they can’t say I didn’t try. But guess what! It seems the final guest sorted himself out as well… Everyone welcome the prince in rags! The phony few had the patience for! The bastard thrown aside as the once and future king made his return! Our mystery candidate number three! Go on, banana peel. Introduce yourself.”

“I- in yellow.”

“Pretty sure even us folk in the front didn’t catch that. Try again your majesty. Put your whole belly into it!”

“I AM THE KING IN YELLOW!”

“Noooow that wasn’t so hard, was it? One could almost believe all the shaking is from a royal tantrum! Penny for your thoughts on the whereabouts of my lucky charm?”

“Carmichael! Bet me on me!”

“Huh. Kinda already am to be honest… But no. That’s not what you want.”

“If I retrieve the Black Stone, I… can keep the rest of him.”

“NO! Kayne, our deal isn’t broken!” Yelled John desperately trying to lift them both up and prove they were still in the game. “Arthur, please! Just tell him! I can’t- I can’t lose you again.”

“Should have thought about that earlier, turncoat! Regardless this tortilla’s got it baaaaad. Never thought you’d want all thorns English Rose back after what he did to you.”

“I want to win.”

“Oh please! You want him back! Hmmm the irony of YOU coming on top… YES that’s it! Okay! Okay. We’re all ears.”

There was a brief silence as Yellow took a deep calming breath. John whispered at Arthur pleading, promising that a fake wouldn’t have pulled him back from the brink in Addison. At the end of his rope his partner brought her up. Somehow not even that worked. Arthur’s thoughts only concerned the monster just a few feet away. One born out of his grief, his misguided love, his bad temper, his selfishness.

“Arthur has the stone inside him,” and immediately the devil cut in with a sarcastic comment but Yellow continued on, “if you searched the lungs then fingers or toes must be valid options as well. No, limbs are easy to separate from the rest. Too big a risk…”

“That it would. I’m so sorry John! The portal closed on us and your arm with the stone is on the other side! Now that would be anticlimactic.”

“John doesn’t know, the entire time he didn’t fight back against you. That leaves out the left foot. As well as his forearm and…”

Strangely Arthur felt a twinge of pride as Yellow broke down his thought process the way an investigator would. He admitted it was a bit self-centered to assume the entity got it from him in their short time together. Maybe at the end he wanted at least one person to understand his choice, the logic behind it.

The gap between the three of them was closed in seconds. A cool sensation spread across his forehead and desperate for the contact to last he leaned deeper and deeper. Ocean waves scratched at his skin as the seagulls laughed and laughed. Taking turns they dug in. The waters trashed around pulling Arthur under. The birds didn’t care and followed after, their cries now clamored for their prey to stop wriggling around. The best lock in the world would not keep Davy Jones’ loot safe for long against someone with both the right tools and determination.

The moment the foreign fingers scratched against their prize, a flash of lucidity cut through. Arthur curled around the stone so tightly he no longer knew where it ended or where he began. Hooks dug into his soul, prying him closer and closer to the surface. Gold strings fiercely yanked him back towards the abyss. Then as a last resort stitched themselves hastily into the searing patchwork.

“Ding, ding, ding! And we have a winner!”

The slap on his back had Yellow hunching forward, closer to the hands cupping the Black Stone. It throbbed in unison with his own body. Every shadow, every color glistened in a blinding contrast. The very same way Addison had looked that morning after the clouds had parted, leaving only clear skies and the brilliant snow. His heavy breaths were woven into brush strokes painting this vista, one last gift to Arthur before this entity swallowed the entire world. Then he fixed his gaze onto Kayne holding the rock out, waiting for the devil to keep his end of the deal. Everything went sideways and Yellow landed on his ass. It was disorienting as fuck but he felt more at home than he ever did inside Larson’s head. He grazed his fingers across the new scars he was not present for with slight irritation. No matter he would demand the stories later. None seemed to compare to the three from the boat anyway. Wait the boat-

“I give you a ten out of ten. Stellar work truly! So here’s the tip: you remember everything. Honestly I didn’t expect you to be that useful after driving Artie to the brink. Fascinating really how the carrot he had no trouble following after all this time disgusted him when I served it grated. Since he was so difficult I switched to a slightly different brand and you’ll never guess what… He swallowed it hook, line and sinker! Convinced I had indulged his whimsies. It was hilarious!”

His stomach sank as his memories clicked back into place: the office, the hospital, the city under the hotel, the pits, Lily and the sight of Arthur’s dying body falling out of his reach while the King laughed at his naivety. What had followed despite Kayne’s meddling was their own handiwork. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise considering their argument in front of his mural. The bigger threat was never the creatures they encountered down the line but their own stubbornness.

The stone’s power rose into a crescendo sending shivers down his spine. The corridor twisted from the tension it wasn’t made to withstand. No, even had they been out in the open the artifact would have bent the world in the same way. Slowly his ears began to parse out the melody underneath: a wail accompanied by a piano and the sound of rushing water.

“Oh darling, thar tickles! Looks like Daddy’s clock will have a vibrate option, truly a testimony of human progress don’t you think? Huh. Don’t stare at me like I drowned your goldfish. It’s not MY fault you didn’t account for stowaways before handing it over! Anyway time’s up. Farewell Jonagold!”

He didn’t care about the difference between them, the purpose of the stone or how this was the consequences of everyone’s choices. No one took what was his! Not even the Crawling Chaos itself!

The reason he failed and grasped nothing but empty air was ironic: the pathetic leftover vessel who had refused to get his hands dirty.

How stupid! How shocking! How splendid! His roar of laughter bounced off the walls of the blood-stained corridor. It was a stage equal to the basement of 58 Pelican Lane. However he still had to make his own debut.

The malevolent entity wrapped his hands around the man’s throat

and

squeezed.

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