Category: Creepypasta

…“I wanted to ask you before the others arrive, was it worth it?” Jeramiah hisses through his Cheshire cat grin.

“I-I-It’s not over yet,” Lenny stammers.

Jeramiah laughs softly. “Of course it is Lenny,” he scoffs. “You just don’t know it yet.”

Lenny tries to get to his feet, only for Jeramiah to push him back to the damp earth once again.

“You don’t get to walk away from this Lenny, this is where you end, like the others. In fact,” he says as he stands tall and surveys the lands around them, before looking back down to him. “In fact, I think they are coming to help take you home.”

“W-W-What? H-H-How?” Lenny stammers nervously, as fevered eyes search desperately around him.

“Don’t look out there for your answers BOY!” Jeramiah hisses as he grips Lenny by the hair, and pulls his head back, then drives it into the earth below. “YOU NEED TO LOOK UNDERNEATH THE VERY DIRT YOU STAND UPON FOR THEM!” he bellows, as hands tear from beneath the surface and yank and rip at Lenny’s flesh, as they try to drag him down below, piece by piece.

“N-N-NO!” Lenny screams as he struggles to free himself from Jeramiah and the dozen or so hands that pull at him, only to have Jeramiah force all his weight down upon him.

“There is no use fighting it BOY, for they have chosen YOU, and once you are CHOSEN, you can NEVER escape their reach!…”

…“A mathematical equation does simply not solve itself Mister Sullivan, it must be nurtured. It must be stroked into eruption of its answer as if it was your very own member. It must be desired like a woman you want to make passionate love to, and then it will provide you with the answer.” Caplain dictates venomously from the front of the room, thrusting his arms in various directions as the words spray the room with spit. “We are, you and I, two different beasts trying to survive in the same world and expecting the same results from different tactics. While mine way may seem foolhardy to you, the man who blatantly runs towards what you so desire without care of consequence or failure, it is tested, tried and fortified through victories and defeats. So stand there and be the man, do what you must do, but remember, my washing is clean, while yours is covered in red!”

“Are you done?” Sullivan sighs with a roll of his eyes. “Can we continue?”

“Was I ever stopping you?”

“No,” he says while raising the pistol in line with Caplain’s head. “No you weren’t!” he says as he pulls the trigger, the bullet tears through his eye and explodes out the back of Sullivan’s head, sending pieces of skull and brain over the other three who kneel hogtied beside him. Conner and Peter scream in terror, while Lynett turns her head and closes her eyes tightly…

…“The colourisation used when highlighting the peaks of each mountain shows a hidden talent I had never expected to see in someone so void of talent. I’m impressed Jacob, BRAVO! BRAVO!” Fletcher spits with excited enthusiasm as he slaps his hands together in an almost rhythmic fashion. “I had chosen you to move on to the next stage, but after todays display I have decided to give you another day of life, although that means one of your fellow stable mates must move onward instead, and because I am a fair man, you can choose who it is!” he says with a wicked smile upon his lips as he looks down upon Jacob.

Jacob looks frantically over to the others, and then to Fletcher. “I-I-I, I can’t, p-p-please d-don’t make me,” he stammers.

“Of course you can,” Fletcher grins broadly. “Pick, or I’ll take them all!”

“NO!” Jacob screams. “TAKE ME! I’M THE ONE YOU WANTED! I’M THE ONE! TAKE ME!”

He shakes his head and laughs softly, “Believe me Jacob, there is nothing personal about this, you are all livestock in my eyes, and you Jacob, you have earned life, as is the game we play, but in earning that you have earned the right to choose that fate for one, or all of your team, like any good leader…”

…He takes a long, deep drag upon the cigar, before pulling it free and blowing a waft of smoke across the room. “There was a time way back when, when I knew everyone’s name without even taking a moment to think. I could crack a dozen, and then another, and still have time to recite a dozen more. Now I can’t remember if I shook it once or twice after I drain it.” he grunts before he stops and stares up into the stars before taking another drag on the cigar.

“T-T-Then why d-do you keep on doing it? W-W-Why don’t you h-h-hand it off to s-someone new?” Nev asks nervously.

“I think you’re getting me confused with Tim Allan and Disney’s spin on the whole gig. Anyway, even if it was real and I did pass it on, who else would I get to do the job? You?”

“I-I-I, I c…” he doesn’t get to finish his reply before the old man starts laughing loudly.

“YOU AIN’T BUILD FOR THIS JOB STEVEN, YOU CAN’T EVEN DO THE ONE YOU’RE TRYING TO DO NOW!”

“I-I-I, I could, I COULD DO IT!”

“Steven,” he says with exhausted breath as he leans forward and allows a halfhearted smile to wriggle across his lips that hide beneath his white mustache. “I’ve watched you your entire life. I’ve seen your ups, and I’ve seen your downs. I’ve seen you succeed, and I’ve seen you fail….

…“This signal you speak of, was it red or blue?”

“What does the colour matter? All I know, is that I saw something regardless of its colour, isn’t that enough!” Devon spits through teeth clenched and broken.

“The colour means EVERYTHING and MORE, even the end of days has a foretelling that is not lost in facts but lost within the colours of what is and is not.” he says with whimsical flair as he brushes his hair from his face. “There was a story I told once. It was about a young girl who never wanted to go to sleep, no matter how tired she was. This girl, who we’ll call Tabitha just for the shits and giggles, because shits and giggles are all we have.  Anyway, Tabitha never wanted to sleep, but ironically slept more than most. She was always centre stage when the important things were discussed, but asleep when the things took place. One day when commanding the rooms attention, Tabitha was brought to trial for her misdeeds. The others in the village said she was a disease, dragging the village down to the bottomless pit below. She begged the villages to stop and listen, and when they failed to care, she did the only thing she could do in this kind of situation.” he says as he stops and takes a long drink of water from his green glass.

“She went to sleep, didn’t she?” Devon says quickly, causing him to smile broadly.

“Sleep she did indeed my friend, sleep she did indeed,” he says with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes….

…“A Shoe? Really?” Kevin says as he screws his face up with confusion.

“Yup, a big old FUCKING shoe!” Conner says with a thrusting nod of his head, and a corny wink.

“And why a shoe?”

“Why not?”

“You realise that’s not an answer, right?” Kevin asks as he rummages around his thick head of hair with his hand, while the other grips the desk tightly.

“There are never really any answers, there are only ever questions.” he says with a wide cheesy smile.

“R-R-Right,” Kevin sings as he puckers up his lips, then draws them back. “Was it your shoe, or the victims?”

Conner fakes a jovial laugh, before rolling his eyes and lifting his jaw proudly. “It was mine, as you can see,” he says as he pulls one of the shoes from his feet and slaps it on the desk. A thick splatter of red explodes from the shoe’s sole and spreads itself across the tables top. “See,” he says with a playful raise of his eyebrows.

“Y-You seem overly proud of yourself, d-don’t you?”

“Why not, they had it coming, and I was the one to bring it,” Conner says tapping his hairy bare chest, nodding his head in rhythmic fashion.

“T-T-They were innoc…” But his words are stolen from his mouth, as Conner slaps Kevin across the face with the bloody shoe, sending him to the floor in a heap.

“NO ONE IS INNOCCENT! NO ONE!” Conner bellows like a madman as he leaps from his chair, landing on top of Kevin like a brick. “THE SHOE KNOWS WHEN YOU’VE BEEN NAUGHTY! THE SHOE KNOWS WHEN YOU’VE BEEN NICE!”…

…“He rostered us both on, just so he could revel in the uncomfortably, it’s that simple.” Sammy says through clenched teeth, as he casts a sideways glance towards Sonya.

“You give that a-hole more credit than he deserves, he’s not some evil supervillain looking to extract his final revenge, he’s filling shifts with whoever can work, it’s just a coincidence, nothing more, nothing less.”

“BULLSHIT! He thinks he’s the Riddler, playing with everyone like they’re a pawn in his latest riddle.”

“Well, you’re no Batman, but you’re definitely a Dick! So tell me, why would Clark Griswald wanna run out Christmas?”

“Any more references you want to get in first before I answer?” he asks with a sarcastic smile across his lips.

“You can’t handle anymore!” she quips back quickly, grinning ear to ear.

His smile fades and he grinds his teeth loudly, “Remember last year, when Susan dumped Simon the day before he had that whole night at the Four Season’s planned, the one where he was planning to ask her to marry him?”

“How could I forget, he ended up letting us use the booking instead, and I achieved the first and only orgasm I ever had with you.” she purrs with a gentle sigh.

“W-WHAT? REALLY? B-B-But what a-about that time in Panama City?”

“OH MY GOD! PANAMA CITY! REALLY? YOU REALLY THINK YOU MADE ME CUM THEN?”

“THAT WHAT YOU FUCK SAID!” he bellows, flailing his arms around like some poorly animated cartoon character from an early morning children’s show.

“Well, obviously I lied!” she spits matter-of-factly.

“OBVIOUSLY!” he grunts as he grinds his teeth once more, before taking a deep breath and sighing. “I always like these reminders as to why were not together anymore, you forget these sort of things when you’re all alone. THANKS!”

She lets out a loud groan and thrusts her head into the air. “GET ON WITH YOUR STORY ALREADY BEFORE I DIE OF BOREDOM!” she moans.

“It doesn’t MATTER anymore!” he says with fire laced words.

“BE A MAN!” a voice spits from behind them, before the room is plunged into darkness. “It ALWAYS matters!”…

…“Wednesday,” Jamie says quickly and without hesitation, bringing all eyes down upon him.

“Are you sure?” Henry asks as he looks over his wire rimmed glasses.

“I am positive,” he answers back.

“Well,” Henry says with an exacerbated sigh as he leans back, places his glasses on the bench before him and kneads his Russ as of they were putty. “This changes everything, doesn’t it?”

“Only of you allow it to,” Zek says matter-of-factly.

“I don’t think there’s much we CAN do to stop it from changing things, we cannot wipe what has happened from our minds, can we?”

“We can choose to ignore the facts and move forward as originally planned as if nothing has changed.”

Henry casts a disgruntled look over to Zek and lets out a bellowing of air from his flared nostrils. “Are we no better than those we are govern, if we abuse the rules as if they were nothing?”

“It’s not abuse, if you’re unaware of the full story.”

“BUT WE ARE!”

“So you say,” Zek says with a wry smile across his lips, as he looks over to Jamie. “But what if this conversation never took place, because poor Jamie succumbed to his injuries.”

“W-W-What?” Jamie stammers as he looks frantically over to Zek, and then to Henry. “Y-Y-Your not g-g-going to listen to him a-are you?”

“N-No, no, of course we’re not going to listen to the insanities of someone who is clearly not fit to be on this committee.”

“I’d like to interject and say that maybe YOU’RE not fit to be on this committee.”

“H-H-HOW DARE YOU!” Henry stammers as he thrusts himself to his feet, and points a trembling finger towards Zek. “H-H-HOW DARE YOU!”

“Get over yourself old man, there ain’t nothing I won’t dare, and if you’re not careful, I’ll dare to be many more things,” he says with a broad grin, as he grips his own face, and tears his flesh away….

…Sammy thrusts Jason against the wall and digs his fingers into the open gash that spills a sea of red from it. “Does it hurt, little brother? Are you in pain?” he seethes through clenched teeth.

“I-I-I, I’m not g-g-going to give y-y-you the s-satisfaction of knowing,” Jason stammers, as he forces a smile across his pale, pasty cheeks.

Without waring Sammy drives a blinding headbutt into the ridge of Jason’s nose, sending him reeling across landscapes old and new, until he crashes to the ground in a bloody heap. He scrambles to his feet and looks frantically around the eerie world that surrounds him, before he comes to a complete stop and slowly pats his stomach several times as his eyes drift down to the perfectly toned stomach that was wide open some seconds before.

“W-W-W-What the fuck i-is going on?” he says in bewilderment, as he looks up into Sammy’s wide-eyed grin.

“Waffle,” he says proudly.

“W-W-Waffle?” Jason stammers.

Sammy nods his head in agreement. “Waffle, waffle.”

“W-W-What the FUCK does waffle mean?”

The smile on Sammy’s face widens. “It mean’s your dead, and I’m going to eat your soul!” Sammy snarls as his jaw dislocates and his mouth opens wide reveling rows of sharp rotting teeth…

…“Tell me and tell me straight. Do you think that someone like me, could ever give someone like you the time of day?” Nigel asks with a furrowed brow and twisted tongue while thrusting a finger towards Catherine.

“I-I-I, I don’t understand the question,” Catherine stammers, as she looks around the room and the others as they stare on in petrified fear, before she turns her eyes back to Nigel, as he sits cross-legged at the head of the table.

He slams a fist onto the table. “DON’T LOOK TO THE OTHERS FOR HELP, AS THEY ARE ALL LOOKING OUT FOR THEMSVELE AND NOT YOU!” he spits. “NOW ANSWER MY QUESTION! DO YOU THINK SOMEONE LIKE YOU, WOULD EVER BE WORTH THE TIME OF DAY, FOR SOMEONE LIKE ME?”

“I-I-I, I think w-we are a-a-all created e-e-equl..” But she doesn’t get to finish her words, as he leaps across the table and slaps her powerfully across the cheek, knocking her to the ground.

“WE ARE NOT EQUAL! WE ARE NOT THE SAME! I AM YOUR RULER, AND YOU WILL BOW DOWN AND OBEY!” he bellows, as he draws his blade free from its scabbard, and arches the sword high into the air. “NOW, FACE YOUR PUNISHMENT!” he spits.

“Can I interrupt,” a voice says, drawing eyes to the doorway, where a long blonde haired man stands leaning against the doorway….

…The door rips from its hinges, and Delargo steps into the room, letting out a gruff thrust of air from his pulsating nostrils while flexing his muscular form like a wrestler announcing his arrival to the ring. “WHO BE THE DOG BASTARD WILLIAM WATTS!” he roars as he eyes each of the petrified faces who stare back at him in fear. “WHO BE THE COWARDLY FOOL WHO THINKS HE BE MAN ENOUGH TO KILL THE DREAD PIRATE CAPTAIN DELARGO!”

He takes another goading step forward after a handful of silent second’s pass. “BE IT YOU BOY!” he spits as he grabs a young blonde haired by head with one power hand and lift him high into the air. “ARE YOU WILLIAM WATTS?”

“N-NO! N-NO!” the boy screams.

“Pity,” Delargo slurs as he crushes the boy’s head, and tosses him to the side like a piece of garbage, then turns to another. “ARE YOU WILLIAM WATTS?” he bellows as he grabs the boy by the head, like he did the first, and lifts him high into the air.

“Let the boy down Delargo, I am William Watts!” a voice announces proudly, causing a wicked smile to snake itself across Delargo’s lips.

“As you wish,” Delargo snarls, as he squeezes the boy’s head like a pimple….

…The beads of sweat pour down his brow, as he takes several quick and laboured breaths in. He grips the controls with his throbbing hands, and grimaces once again. “You won’t beat me this time,” he hisses as he nods his head and presses the retry button once again.

The world before his fades to nothingness, and then in beyond the edges of his ear lobes, a small beat begins to make itself know, quickly accompanied by the acoustic harmonics of an electric guitar.

The room lights up, and a sea of coloured boxes flood the word before him before they start fly at him in time with the music.

He swipes wildly at the blocks with coloured bats that he holds tightly in each hand, tearing them in half with precision accuracy. The flow picks up pace, and he starts tapping his foot in rhythmic synchronicity. “W-W-Where are you, y-you p-piece of shit,” he mumbles as his eyes glide away from the playing field, and out into the three-D world beyond. With a petrified breath, he catches a glimpse of a figure moving just on the outskirts of the world, leaping from pylon, to pylon, making its way towards him. He sucks in another breath as he smiles wryly. “Let the games being,” he snarls as he throws the bats to the side, and leaps forward across the ravine, toward the figure…

…He looks out over the digital world and allows the beauty soak to its way into his senses, before turning back to Quienten. “I-I-Is this really r-real?” he stammers nervously.

“It’s as real as you want it to be.”

He looks back out over the landscape. “That’s not really answering my question.”

“It’s because your question wasn’t really a question.”

“Like this place isn’t really real?”

“If that’s how real you want it to be.”

“What kind of mystic are you?” he grunts as he turns back to Quienten, his brow furrowed.

“Who said I was a mystic?”

“Y-YOU JUST FUCKING DID!” he spits, thrusting his arm around in furious fashion.

“Are you sure that was me? I would remember telling someone I was a mystic,” he says rolling his eyes as he does.

“WHO THE FUCK ELSE WAS IT, IF IT WASN’T YOU THEN!”

“It could’ve been another user using the same avatar as me, I have done little if any alterations to this base model.”

“W-W-WHAT T-T-THE FUCK!”

“This is your first time here, isn’t it?” Quienten asks as he looks out over the flickering neon world before them.

“Y-Y-YOU ALREADY F-FUCKEN KNOW T-THAT!”

“Like I said,” Quienten says as he turns back to Kevin, with a broad smile across his twisted face. “That wasn’t me, that was the other guy!”…

…Jethro charges forward, his blades held out to his sides. With a cry, he leaps into the air, and forward towards the oncoming horde.

His blades move through the air in a preordained path, slicing though flesh and bone as if there was no difference between the two. He lands on the damp soil, steading himself with a splayed hand, as bodies around him tumble hopelessly to the earth.

He casts a snarling gaze upwards and meets Sabastian’s eyes with his own.

“The windy city has been kind to you old friend, maybe I was foolish to let you leave.”

“I have never been yours to rule over, old friend,” he spits, as he readies himself once more for attack.

“I beg to differ,” he says as he pulls Kiyota into view, her wrist firmly in his grasp. Her desperate gaze pulls at the threads of Jethro’s heart, and he grimaces once more.

“LET HER GO, OR I WILL BRING YOUR EMPIRE DOWN UPON YOU!”

“Then she will die,” Sabastian says callously as he pulls her close before gently digging the blade of a knife into her throat, breaking the skin ever so slightly.

“NO!” he bellows as he stretches out a hand desperately.

“NO?” Sabastian mimics, as he looks upon Jethro with eyes tight and confused. “What more can you threaten to take from me if I do? What else do I have, if I do not have my empire?”

“Y-Your life, one I’ll gladly take.”

“Without this, I care not for much else, so death would be a reward well earnt,” he says nonchalantly, as he drags the blade across her throat, sending a volcano of red out towards the bewildered Jethro….

…Jerry sucks in another desperate breath, and closes his eyes as he grimaces in pain, pressing the back of his palm against the gash that cuts halfway across his cheek.

“Hurt?” Peggy asks with a wide smile across her bloody lips.

“YOU FUCKING KNOW IT DOES!” he bellows as his eyes shoot open wide, and he stares deathly towards her.

“Sounds like your ego took a little bit of a hit too.” she purrs playfully.

“MY FUCKING EGO, IS MIGHTY FUCKING FINE! THANK YOU VERY MUCH!” he spits.

“Not from where I’m standing,” she scoffs as she dances around him like an animal boxing in its prey, readying to strike.

“It’s exactly how I want you to think,” he says as he sweep her legs out from under her, and drives a knife into her shoulder, pinning her to the floor.

“Clever boy, I wasn’t e..” But before she can say another word, he drives several more knives deep into her flesh, each knife digging into the wooden boards of the floor below.

“You never had a good imagination!” he sneers, as he thrusts a final knife into the center of her skull. For a few long moments he cradles himself, gently sobbing in his own arms, as emption after emotion washes over him. Finally after what seems like forever, he takes an uneasy step upward, and allows his heavy chest to fall.

“What, is that all you’ve got?” she asks, as her dead eyes look up into his….

…“You come here, and you expect me to just hand over my life’s work without a fight! What kind of IDIOT do you think I am!” Herbert cries as he thrusts a knife out towards Bronty.

“The idiot who brings a knife, to a gun fight!” Bronty snarls through a jaded smile, as she raises her pistol towards him.

Herbert lets the knife drop to the ground and throws his hands into the air as he takes a few anxious steps back. “You don’t want to do that,” he says nervously.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

“I’m not trying to telling you anything, I’m simply suggesting you shouldn’t venture down this road. In fact, if y…” But his words are stolen from his lips, as a bullet tears into his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards, and to the floor in an awkward heap.

“And I said, you’re in no position to tell me what to do,” she spits as she digs the pistol’s barrel into the side of his skull and pulls him to his feet. “NOW, ARE WE DONE?”

“A-A-ARE W-W-WE DONE!” a clumsily spoken voice sings from the other side of the room. Quickly she spins to face the voices owner, tightly gripping Herbert as she uses him as a shield.

“W-W-What t-the FUCK!” she stammers as she stares into a slightly distorted version of herself.

“W-W-WHAT THE F-FUCK!” her doppelganger bellows as she holds a chainsaw into the air, and pulls the cord, bringing it to a roaring life….

…His cup topples from the bench and twists its way to a violent death at the hands of the floor. A sea of tea exploded from all sides, as the porcelain slammed into the hard polished concrete floor, and shatters from one end of the room to the other.

Cory looks over to Freddy, and gives him a playful wink, while blowing him a kiss. “Begger can’t be chooses too!” he says with snotty flair.

“FUCK YOU PRETTY BOY! I CAN BE WHATEVER I WANT TO BE!” Freddy roars as he thrust himself to his feet, crushing the slithers of cup into the floor with his high fuck-me boots.

“Did your mummy tell you that? Because if she did, she was only lying to keep you from crying!”

“ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP FLAPPING YOUR LIPS OR ARE WE GONNA PUNCH THE FUCK ON!” Freddy bellows as he raises both fists into the air and twists his lips in anger.

Cory nods his head with smug gusto. “Oh, we are gonna punch the FUCK on, that’s for sure,” he says, as he slashes the blade of a knife quickly through the air, several time, slicing deep gashes across Freddy’s arms and knuckles. He lets out a grimace of pain, hisses loudly, and pulls his hand in tightly towards himself, while letting his fists relax into open hands as he surveys the damage.

“W-W-What t…” But his words are stolen quickly away, as Cory drives a haymaker of a left into his right temple, before driving another into his left, sending Freddy staggering backwards, before he stumbles forwards, and catches a upwards thrusting knee to his chin for payment. His world explodes in colour, and then is engulfed in darkness as he feels the earth rush up and hit him in the face….

…“Pink doesn’t suit you, not like the red did,” Sally says with a wry smile across her lips as he thrusts two legs into the air and leans back against Randy’s mutilated corpse.

“You’re just jealous that I can pull off a feminine colour like pink, while you’re stuck flannelette shirts and gumboots!”

“At least I fill out my shirt, not like the flat chested WHORE you wish you could be!”

“Really? NOW! You two are gonna fight about his now?” Chrissy interrupts.

“YES WE ARE!” the two reply in unison.

“SHEESH!” Chrissy spits. “Daddy ain’t gonna be happy when we get back home and he hears about this,” she says before Sally grips her by one of her pigtails and slams her against the wall.

“YOU AIN’T TELLING DADDY SHIT!” she bellows, as her face twists with rage.

“ANNIE! H-H-HELP ME!” Chrissy cries.

“I AIN’T HELPING YOU DO SHIT, NOT IF YOU’RE GONNA BE A BIG FAT DOBBA!” she spits.

“B-B-BUT!”

“BUT NOTHING BITCH!” Sally roars as she grips Chrissy by the throat, pins her to the wall and lifts her a few feet off the ground. “NOW, ARE YOU GONNA BE A GOOD GIRL, OR ARE WE GONNA HAVE TO TELL DADDY THAT YOU PLAYED A LITTLE TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN?”

“Y-Y-Y-You w-w-wouldn’t?” she stammers.

“Wouldn’t we? Are you sure?” Sally spits with wryly. “Annie, tell Chrissy what happened to Pammy, and by that, I mean what really happened.”

Chrissy’s eyes widen with terror as she looks over to the grinning Annie….

…“I never wanted you to be just another one of my victims, but yet here we are, wallowing in a sea of red,” Javier says through trembling lips as he cradles Monica’s pale corpse in his hand, while tears cascade down his face. He gently brushes the dirty hair from her face and strokes her cheek with the back of his bruised and blood-stained hand. He lets out a stuttered sigh as he looks up into the night sky above them, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in before launching himself downward, biting into Monica’s flesh with a jagged row of razor-sharp teeth. For some minutes they remain locked in their embrace, as Javier sucks the life rich blood from her dried, and decaying form.

“Is this how you show love?” Monica hisses.

Javier’s eyes shoot open and he thrusts himself away, letting out a low growl, bearing his teeth like a wild animal as she gets to her feet like a awkwardly animated cartoon character.

Her head twists around, and a wild, broad grin tears itself across her lips. “What’s wrong lover, devil got your tongue?”

“H-H-HOW! I-I-I, I DRAINED YOU DRY! Y-Y-YOU SHOULD BE DUST!” he spits.

“Drained me you did, but not to the last drop, for a sea runs within me, a sea you could never drain alone!” she snarls proudly.

“Then it is fate that I didn’t,” he sings, as a handful of figures scurry from the darkness and surround her….

….Franklin staggers forward several feet, before tumbling forward into the sea of red that has formed from the waterfall that flows from his gut.

“Who would’ve thought that in the end patience WAS a virtue,” Henrique sneers with a muffled laugh as he drops to his knees and takes in several exhausted breaths. “Fifteen years, and all I had to do was wait for you to show yourself for who you really were, instead of searching the cracks and crevices of this dying land.”

“If your words were palatable, I would swallow them whole, yet they are covered in shit and smell worse.” Claudio says with a broad grin across his lips as he crouches in front of the bewildered Henrique.

“H-H-How?”

“A nudge here, a poke there, a little bit of theatrics everywhere, nothing more or less, but that’s all I needed to spin my web.”

“B-B-But if y-you live, t-that m-mean t-t-th…” he stammers as he looks frantically over to Franklin’s form, who’s dead eyes stare towards him in silence.

“That you killed your oldest friend for nought? Why yes, yes I do believe you did.”…