I have no idea how long I’d been traversing this damned forest. I was tossed out of a tree while trying to get an odd looking apple from a monkey, knocked unconscious, and then maimed by a winged lion with an oversized scorpion stinger for a tail. How quaint.

I was bleeding from a particularly deep gash left by who I’d deemed Mufasa, and I’m rather sure I had a concussion from the fall. So yeah, not much was going in my favor at this juncture.

There I was, limping toward where I was hoping would lead me to salvation, when I heard something odd. Is that… sobbing? Red flags went up in my mind, and despite all of my being telling me to turn around and walk away due to what curiosity does to cats (and the fact that I most certainly do not have nine lives like those wily jerks), I felt myself drawn to whatever pained individual or thing that had gotten my attention. Was it because of sympathy, or was it because of stupidity? I don’t think it’s up to debate that it was mostly the latter.

I cautiously made my way toward the source of the noise, slowly pulling apart vines and carefully stepping over briars. As I neared, a pressure built in my head, causing the environment to warp around me like the surface of water after having its still tranquility shattered by a thrown pebble. Or something like that.

The world shifted and seemed to close in around me. Each breath became more labored than the last. The pressure inside my head continued inflating and expanding until it threatened to blow its way out of my forehead. Yet on I traipsed like the weary, delusional madman I am.

The groaning was deafening by now, and so too did the fire pulsating in my skull spike as I approached a curtain of vines. And when I pulled them apart, what I saw…

The world froze.

The noise stopped.

The pain vanished.

All that was left to me were my own eyes, which nearly broke from widening in surprise, and what I couldn’t imagine to be real.

I stared at the skeletal corpse of the manticore, one of its wings broken and its eyes, now dark pools of eternal black, glared back at me, into me, into the very essence of my soul. Its mouth was agape in an expression of pure agony, a scream that pierced the heavens as the very definition of suffering, yet only managed to be heard by my ears. The travesty sat unmoving, unyielding, but still broken by the unstoppable force of fate. Perched as it was upon its throne, a colossal rock of stone, it cast its judgement upon me.

And I was deemed unworthy.

Laughter picked up around me, raving and howling and hollering; madness and chaos and hunger! The earth tore apart between the corpse and I, a gaping pit that appeared to steal all light from around it, beckoning all succulent morsels to approach it, to feed it. I sluggishly reached up to my face as the pressure once again returned, this time with a vengeance. I pulled away and realized I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel a warm, syrupy liquid running down my fingertips. From my eyes, from my ears, from my nose it seeped. The horror, the horror!

I took one step, a step that echoed across the world, and again all froze into a deafening silence. Then another. And another. I stood at the mouth of the abyss, gazing into it. What stared back, I could not comprehend. So I accepted my hand in life, and took another step, though this time my foot found no purchase.

I fell forward, into the stomach of the void, and I never reached the bottom.

I awoke with a start, gasping desperately for air and clutching my heart as a cold sweat covered my face. Quickly searching the room, I discovered that I was still in my cell, something that I never would have thought I’d consider a relief.

Still, some things didn’t quite line up. For starters, Hawkeye was missing. There was no evidence of her ever having been in the room; no indentation on her bunk, no feathers littering the floor, no coin. She was just… gone.

Secondly, and perhaps most strangely, all the color seemed to have been drained from the room, leaving everything in various shades of black and white. It was made all the more disconcerting by the menacing way each shadow stretched and twisted, making it appear as though they would reach out and grab me to drag me to some hell if I were to draw too near.

Finally, the cell door was open.

I jumped to my feet, feeling no pain in my ribcage at the motion for some reason that I was too preoccupied to even care for, and quietly made my way to the cell’s exit. I had no idea what was going on and that honestly freaked me out more than almost any of what I’d experienced thus far could even hold a candle to. Not to mention, my mind was still very much shaken by that hellishly lucid nightmarish experience. Everything considered, it’s a wonder I didn’t have a complete mental breakdown.

Keep calm, Vince. Keep calm and panic on.

Licking my lips, I (thankfully) kept all panicking to a minimum for the time being. Instead, I chose to step foot out into the hall. The floors were clearly unused for some time if the dust coating them were of any indication. I took a deep breath and walked down, looking for any signs that might lead me to an exit.

The building was lifeless. Everything was shrouded in shadow. All light was swallowed by the abysmal darkness that hung overhead, clinging to the ceiling that stretched on forever upward and hiding in the corners of every room. With every cell I passed, a chill washed over me, refreshing a broadening sense of paranoia and keeping me on edge. I was being watched… or so I believed.

If there truly was a god in this world, then that meant that this eldritch hell could only have been conceived by some demonic horror. Lovecraft be damned, I loved the racist fuck’s work, but I never would have dreamt of the day where I’d be experiencing it firsthand. Aside from the obvious, something about this place was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t have been here. No living being should have been here. It was all I could do to gather what dregs remained of my fickle sanity to move on.

It wasn’t until about five minutes of aimlessly wandering the deserted halls that I noticed what seemed so off: I couldn’t hear my footsteps. I turned around and noticed that there was no trail of footprints behind me either. That suitably spooked me, but what really had me concerned was the fact that, when I thought about it, I noticed couldn’t even hear myself breathing. Hell, not even my heart, the incandescent torch it was, was glowing.

I touched my face, only to find a layer of cobweb decorating the palm of my hand when I pulled it away. What the fuck!? I tore and scratched at my face, more and more cobweb falling to the floor as I did so, but ultimately my efforts were fruitless. When I wrenched a sizable amount from my face, I felt for skin only to be met with even more cobweb. I shuddered and then got a good look at my hand, finding it almost skeletal in appearance.

This is just a dream. This is just a really bad dream.

“Come, child,” a watery, disembodied voice called, its words ringing in my mind not unpleasantly. “Follow my voice, beckoning, and allow me to open thy mind.” A soft, admittedly cute chuckle ― one that sounded like a crow’s coo ― came from the voice, though there was an underlying hint of malice carried on it.

Since today was a day of stupid decisions, I made the right choice and listened to the voice.

I had been travelling for about five hours (time really seemed to be merely a suggestion here, if it existed at all) before I had come to a path that didn’t appear to be a demented replica of the prison near Sauna Pai. One thing I had learned very quickly was to avoid the shadows, although I’d been doing my best to do so anyway. When I happened to fall too near one, it… grabbed at me, sliding silently across the floor to wrap a ghastly tendril around my ankle.

Aside from it feeling like I was being stung by a jellyfish and all the pain that entails, I heard… whispers. Whispers in a tongue that had no right to exist. I only managed to get away because the pain kickstarted my heart, causing it to burn away the appendage Alan Wake style.

Anyway, back to the hall. At first it seemed to be yet another random hall, but I just knew that this was where the voice from before had called me to. I looked around, staying away from any corners and not staring into the void above for any extended amount of time, allowing the light from my heart to vaporize anything that tried seizing my legs. Eventually, my attention was nabbed by a part of the wall. It didn’t line up with the rest of the corridor. The best way to describe it was as a… tear, a phantasm; and when I shined my light upon it, it ignited, dissipating almost instantaneously. All that it left behind was a fog wall.

The fuck is this, The Evil Within? Dark Souls? I’m just glad there were no lockboxes or Capra Demons on the other side.

Seeing no other way to progress, I did what all good main characters do in these types of situations: I continued forward. A large cavern awaited me on the other side, stalactites and stalagmites littering the floor and ceiling as poodle-sized bats flew from place to place. Fear welled within me at the precarious drop on either side of the path leading to another fog wall, so I put on my big boy pants and RPG’d on before it consumed me.

Five steps later, I was regretting that choice. A few of the oversized bats shrieked, producing a high-pitched sound that was easily more terrifying than Mufasa’s fearsome roar, before diving down en masse toward me. Oh fuck my life! I turned and ran back towards the entrance, only to find myself trapped between a rock wall and a hundred flesh-hungry bats. They surrounded me, not doing much damage surprisingly aside from a few good nips with their teeth or bodily collisions that sent me to the floor. I closed my eyes and covered the back of my neck, curling up to make myself a smaller target and to protect my vitals. The only true damage being done was to my psyche, as their screeches were deafening and being mobbed panicked me.

When a few in front of me backed off, looking for an opening, I quickly jumped up, hands still covering my neck. My heart was shining brighter than ever, and the glow that had saved me so many times today incinerated the abominations, making them fall screaming into the spiked pit below. Shrugging off a humorously grim thought about earning XP from killing low level enemies, I booked it down the path. Unfortunately, the bats were right on my tail the whole of the way. I turned every now and again, mindful of the edges of the rocky walkway, to turn a few of the particularly daring monsters into flying candles.

I was at the home stretch! Only a few more meters need to be covered before― and there goes my balance. One of the bats rammed into my side when I was busy roasting his friends into something not kosher, sending me off the path. Luckily for me, I obviously still have a story to tell, so I ended up grabbing the side of the crossing at the last possible second. Before I could pull myself up, I was smacked in the fact by a divebombing kamikazi winged rodent. I shook the dizziness from my face and attempted to right myself as yet another banzai’d my face. This time, there was nothing keeping me attached to the ledge when a final attacker hit me with the force of a miniature George Foreman, and like that, I was weightless…

But I had grabbed the little prick at his ascent, which was enough of a pull to provide enough leverage for me to again grab the path. I yanked the struggling, fanged freak down, squeezing it as I threw a leg onto the ledge. I slammed the bat into the ground when I was again on the path, disorienting it to allow me to toss it like a pigskin at the rest. And I pushed my way the rest of the distance to the fog wall, angry chirps sounding behind me.

I was unsafely on the other side of the fog wall when, before I could even take a moment for a breather, a cleaver the size of me nearly took my head off. I rolled under the swing, hardly registering that I was still under attack when something fast and with more teeth than the Osmond Family slammed into my side, barking and growling as it tried to tear out my windpipe.

I grabbed the ugly dog’s head and wrenched its mouth away from my neck, saving myself the punishment of smelling its awful breath. I quickly lifted a knee to upset the thing’s balance, leaving it on its front two legs, and then rolled it over onto its back. One of my fists went crashing into Fido’s face before I was kicked off by the big bad who tried turning me into modern art. I rolled and sweared and slid to a stop, achingly pushing myself to my knees when, as I looked up, the fucking Capra Demon (damn my jinxes) leapt into the air, both cleavers raised with clear murderous intent. I channeled my inner Dark Souls player character and rolled out of the way just in time to avoid 400 or so pounds of enraged monstrosity; his oversized kitchen utensils sent dirt and shards of rock up into the air, becoming embedded in the earth.

Scooby again lunged at me, an action he soon came to hate himself for when I stepped out of the way. He slammed snout-first into the side of a staircase. I leapt onto the back of the Capra, fighting the overwhelming fear down again, whilst he was still trying to free his bloody, rusty weapons from the floor. He let loose a crazed howl that would have likely made me piss myself in another reality, dropping one of the cleavers to grab at me. I latched onto one of the thing’s horns, pulling its head to the side and unbalancing it. Since I didn’t know what I was doing, we both slammed into one of the walls of the confined area, him with a headache and me with an everythingache. I noticed that there was a broken sword of sorts jammed into one of the demon’s shoulders, so I ignored my pain to grasp it, twisting it as I ripped it out. Of course, Capra screamed in outrage and agony, swiping at me and knocking me to the ground again.

I narrowly dodged his foot as he slammed it into the ground in an attempt to turn my face into borscht, jamming the edge of the broken sword into his calf to show my appreciation for his effort. Courage jumped onto my back, yapping his dislocated jaw and spilling saliva onto my face and shirt before Capra punted the both of us across the yard. He pulled the sword out of his leg and threw it at us, hitting Ein in his back while he tried ripping off my face. Brian yelped, stopping his unwanted advances. With this welcome distraction, I grabbed Hong Kong Phooey's jaw in one hand and the top of his head with the other, snapping his neck with a sloppy, amateurish movement.

I tossed Jake aside, snatching the sword from it before turning back around and catching a bitchslap to the face. I groaned, wondering whether this was my punishment for blaming that mentally challenged boy down the road for breaking my crotchety old neighbor’s window with a football back in fifth grade. Capra interrupted my trip down memory lane when he grasped one of his blades with both hands, putting all of his time skipping leg day to use when, with a heave and a ho, the cleaver came free. He then turned to me, hate clear in his four glowering red eyes as he slowly advanced.

I pulled myself up, grasp still firm on my salvation. Looking up at the terrifying being that stood twice my height, I suddenly questioned just how I was able to last as long as I had against something like it. Capra swung at me in a wild arc that I narrowly sidestepped, not anticipating the kick the followed. I was again launched from my feet, rolling to regain my footing. I was forced back as he again hefted his cleaver with wild abandon, my back hitting the rock where the fog wall once rested as he lifted the crude blade overhead. I imagine if his face hadn’t been that of a goat’s skull, he would have been smiling at this turn of events. But I wasn’t down for the count yet. I ran forward, sliding underneath him as he turned the ground I was once cowering at into a mining effort. I dashed up the stairs, looking for a door or anything to grant me exit from this deathtrap. To my delight, there was a door. To my despair, it was locked.

Having recovered from my escape, Capra was staring at me when I apprehensively faced him. When he knew he had my undivided attention, he reached beneath his goat skull, pulling out a key. The sadistic bastard gave an honest to Fonz chuckle at my widened eyes, placing the key back somewhere under his skull. He then charged me, dragging his cleaver and sending stone crashing into me as he swung it upward. I took the hits like a bitch, falling to a knee as he lifted his cleaver up for another downward swipe. I lunged forward, catching him mid-strike in the gut. I put all of my weight into my legs and drove forward, thrusting my sword deeper and deeper into his pancreas. Capra put a hand on my shoulder, pushing down with all his might, driving me to my knees yet again. Using the stairs and my higher position for leverage, however, I managed to knock him from the staircase and onto the cold ground below, the demon sliding off of the sword on his way down.

A moment was spared to me to regain my bearings. Placing a hand on the wall to help myself to my feet, I limped over to find Capra still breathing, though he was shaking uncontrollably as he grasped the new pocket where his stomach used to be. My grip on the sword in my hand tightened. Realizing the fight wasn’t yet over, I jumped from the stairs, ramming the blade into where I believed his heart would be. Capra shrieked and futilely tried shaking me off, but I held fast. After a few moments, his struggling ceased. The Capra Demon’s arms fell limply to the earth, and his eyes’ red glow faded to black, lifeless. I shook, fear overtaking me as I watched the rest of his body slowly become consumed by a sanguine flame. Before I could comprehend what was happening, that same flame that burned within him rose and expanded, giving me but a moment to furrow my brows in confusion before crashing into me.

All that I knew for the next eternity was red. Red and heat. After the worst of it came and went, I opened my eyes and beheld my charred skin, flames running weakly up and down my arms before being sucked into the… the red orb.

+100 XP gained. Level 2: Capra Slayer.

Searching the area, I found that all that was left of Capra was his skull. Lifting that and casually tossing it aside, I discovered my true prize: the key.

For all I knew, it could have been a key to the shitter, but that was better than the nothing I had before. Figuring I might as well test it anyway, I walked up the steps, still limping slightly, and stood before the door.

I steeled myself for whatever was on the other side, getting a sneaking suspicion that the owner of the voice was lying in wait beyond. The key went into the keyhole, and unsurprisingly, it fit.

Twisting the key, the door slowly opened. I raised my sword as I readied myself to face whatever was on the other side.

When I pushed the door open, I wasn’t even going to bother acting surprised at what I found awaiting me. On the other side rested a plague doctor, a crow perched on one of her arms and a pony with a mane made of the night sky sitting near, fully at attention. It seemed they all had been expecting me as a visitor, because― “Ah, welcome, human. We hath been expecting thee.” Yeah, because of that.

I looked around at the room, seeing that it appeared to be an office of sorts. Various tools of savagery from the worse parts of Europe’s plague era adorned the tables; the skulls of various species lined the walls as souvenirs; and the floorboards, though immaculate, creaked with each step I took while I looked around. The plague doctor chuckled from her seat at the far end of the room, drawing my attention back to her. There was no table between us, so I got the full view of the good doctor’s own set of raven-like talons that served as feet. Fighting back my repulsion at the bastardization of a human, I fought to keep a straight face, even if the need was lost behind the cobweb masking my expression.

“Were you the voice from before? The one who called me here?” I asked, not lowering my weapon.

“An astute one, thou art,” said the plague doctor, her voice warm and honeyed. “I see that thou hast made thine way to my humble abode safely. Commendable, for a mortal such as thyself.”

“No thanks to that damn Capra Demon you’ve got guarding your chambers,” I replied, trying and failing to keep the venom out of my words.

I got another chuckle, the birdlady likely amused at my frustration. “Allow me to apologize, young one,” her voice came from the pony this time. “At my age, it is quite easy to lose one’s memory. And the weapon will no longer be necessary.” With that declaration, the sword I was debating skewering her with fell out of existence. Oh god, she’s a reality warper.

“J-just what the hell are you?”

Said the crow, “Hmhm. Thou mayest regard Us as… Lenore. And for what We are?” All three spoke in conjunction. “We are the embodiment of thine sins.” I had no response to that. “Now, any further inquiries, child?” the… thing asked, its voice once again soft.

“...How do I get out of this room?”

Lenore voice once again came from behind the beaked mask of the doctor. “Thou wilt find thyself in a more desirable place upon an amicable conclusion to our discourse.”

“And if our conversation doesn’t end on an ‘amicable’ note?”

“Then We will make thee another puppet,” answered Crow-Lenore simply, emphasizing the statement by making the other two move their heads simultaneously as she cocked hers at me.

“That doesn’t sound very amicable.” I shifted where I stood.

“Then why not simply ensure that this discussion stays on amicable terms?” the pony suggested, looking at me with a neutral expression.

“How do I do that?”

“By not asking so many useless questions.”

I didn’t like the idea of being made a “puppet”, so I kept my peace. When Lenore saw that I was ready to comply, the room suddenly shrunk, placing me directly in front of the lot of her marionettes. The crow picked at its feathers in a manner that was supposed to be mindless, the pony ― one of the tallest I’d seen thus far ― rose a brow as she ran a hoof through her hair, and the plague doctor stood to her full, overbearing height, easily dwarfing me.

“Such an interesting specimen, thou art,” she said, circling me with a gloved hand resting on her chin. “But alas, I cannot learn more of thee at this time.”

“Too useful. Elsewise We would have spared Ourself the bother of plucking a mortal from that worthless realm.”

“Although the human is admittedly rather… alluring, in some ways. He speaks too much, however. Perhaps removing his tongue would be an improvement, hm?”

“No, no. For now, everything inside him stays inside him. He must hear our proposition, first.”

“Yes. It would do us well to explain to him his part in this game, especially with the interference of that conniving drake.”

“Speaking of, I should put him in his proper place. Still, it is cute watching the beings of his world strive for power. Ambition is a lovely tool, for while it is unpredictable, that is what makes it so predictable.”

Yup. This bitch is coo coo for Cocoa Puffs.

The crow spread her wings. “Silence!” And like that, everything went quiet. Suddenly, I had a better idea of just who was running the show. “Remember the pawn’s part in Our plans.” Crow-Lenore turned her calculating eyes toward me. “Thou art integral to Us, human. Now, tell us. Wherefore art thou here?”

“So I can better play my part when I leave.”

“An intelligent answer, Ladarion.” My skin crawled when I realized that Lenore probably knew everything about me. “The serpent, Salamsala, wants thee to follow the sun; this is why thy head acheth during the day. However, We wish for thee to take thy adventure to where the North Star leadeth thee. Simple, is it not?”

“Very. Just… what’s in it for me?”

“We are feeling unusually generous upon this day, so how dost this rest with thee: We, being masters of fear, will protect thee from the nightmares that have been plaguing thy mind for the better part of a fortnight, and provide a cushion for the worst of the trauma thou hast and will suffer.”

“And perhaps,” said the tall pony, actually smiling, showing me her fanged set of chompers, “I can accompany you in a few of your more… stressful nights,” she said breathily, slowly circling me like a shark preparing for the kill. “Your triumph over the likes of our guardian is a suitable display of prowess, valor, and…” from behind, she brushed her nose past my ear, “...finesse~.”

I shuddered at the implications of her statement ― she wasn’t exactly "subtle" in any sense of the word ― thankful that my face was hidden in its cobweb prison. Or at least, it was before this… night horse willed it away to get a look at my face.

“Hm… You could use some meat on your bones. I don’t believe humans are meant to be so scrawny.”

“I woke up here like this. I’m normally much more healthy-looking back in… wherever I was before I ended up here.”

The Night Mare hummed at that, taking in every curve of my face. I noticed the doctor doing the same, but it felt less lecherous and more… cold, more analytical. It was as though she was dissecting me with her eyes alone. The crow, as per usual, hardly gave a fuck. “You will need to spend more time here, then. We can knock out two birds with one stone if that is the case.” The crow did, however, send a look of mild irritation in the direction of the pony for that idle comment.

Aside from feeling slightly violated and in need of an adult, I didn’t really need to think about much, but there was one more thing picking at me. “What was the reason behind summoning me here, instead of simply telling me what I needed to know? It would have saved us both a lot of time and me a lot of pain.”

The doctor shrugged. “For edification, for amusement.”

I wanted to say something, but decided against it because that might have gotten me turned inside out. Then I wanted to think it, but decided against it because, with these beings likely able to read minds, that might have gotten me turned inside out as well. So I settled on rolling my eyes.

“You gals have got yourselves a deal, then.”

Quoth the raven, “Oh, that part is not so simple, human, We older beings do not cement such heavy deals in such a nonchalant way. There will be blood.” As my eyes widened, she amended her statement. “Our blood, child.”

“And what am I supposed to do with your blood?”

The Night Mare appeared at my side yet again. “What else, mortal? You will imbibe our blood.” She gave a soft, sultry chuckle before again adopting her neutral expression. “Or, depending on how events turn out, our blood will imbibe you.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

As I said that, the room expanded, looking like a dimly lit animus. The Lost Lenores gathered in the center of the room, chanting something in that language spoken by the shadow that raked against my brain with every syllable. In the middle of their chanting, their eyes became completely white, their irises lost in an ocean of strange power. With this change, a jagged sacrificial knife rose from the red, swirling circle that appeared in front of them, symbols that hurt to look at radiating from the glowing, smouldering material the circle was made of. The chanting grew in volume, and so too did the clawing at my brain. With the increase in fervency came greater intensity in the light of the circle, the sacrificial knife spinning faster and faster all the while.

Then the voices suddenly stopped.

The knife levitated in the midst of the trio, the symbols that had been flying around the circle branding its surface, causing it to glow ominously.

“It is ready,” said Lenore, her voice muffled by the plague doctor’s mask. “Now, to set our deal in stone.”

Carefully removing the floating knife from the circle, Lenore whispered more of that dreadful tongue that should have stayed unspoken as she removed a glove, revealing a feathered mockery of a hand. Slowly, reverently, she moved the knife to the palm of her hand, sliding the edge across and drawing blood, which the knife… drank. Passing the knife along, the other two Lenores did the same, and eventually the knife was again floating above the circle.

I was suitably freaked out by the sight. Sure, I wasn’t much of a religious man, but if I were, this entire situation would scream demonic craft to me.

“Ladarion,” called the crow. “The time is now. Come hither and partake.” I let out a shaky breath, sluggishly moving toward the circle. I said a few prayers as tears flowed down my face, hoping against hope for any kind of direct divine assistance at this point in time to stop me from potentially selling my soul since, y’know, I kinda needed that. I felt as though I would begin hyperventilating any second as I pressed my forehead to my balled up hands. I reached the circle and stared dumbly at the knife for a moment, ignoring the stares I was getting. Sticking out a hand after a final fruitless prayer, I grasped the cursed object, lifting it overhead and holding it upside down. The blood flowed toward the tip, and I opened my mouth to allow the blood to flow.

A soft giggle, almost a snicker, sounded from the plague doctor. “Yes. Drink deep of Our blood, Ladarion,” the crow silently commanded. “Feel the spreading corruption burn.” She sweetly tittered. As I stood, mindful to not spill a drop, Crow-Lenore continued. “Now, thou’st accepted thine part in our deal. Savor Our blood, allow it to guide thee. And for the sake of the Darkness, stop whimpering like a snivelling child!”

I tried to pull myself together, but was somewhat distracted when, out of the blue, the plague doctor and the Night Mare fell into an episode of full-bellied laughter.

Huh? “W-What the hell are y’all laughin’ at!? You think it’s funny when someone sells you their fuckin’ soul!?”

The two jerks laughed even harder at that, the circle disappearing as Night Mare pounded her hoof into the ground, howling. “I c-could hardly hold it any longer, haha! He truly thought he was― oh stars above!”

“T-thou shouldst have seen thy face, human,” exclaimed the plague doctor. “We had thee in our palms the entire time!”

As she laughed, I gave the crow a look showing just how utterly lost I was. She wasn’t laughing, but she did have a sly smile on her face as she shrugged her wings. “We assume they are so cheerful because of our success in, how dost thou say, ‘duping’ you.”

I wiped a few stray tears from my face. “D-duping me? This was all just an elaborate ruse?”

The plague doctor spoke up, Night Mare still laughing uncontrollably and rolling around on the floor. “I did not believe thou wouldst be so easy to deceive. The ritual, the blood, all of it was merely for our entertainment. We wanted to see thine reaction, and thou most certainly hast delivered.”

Night Mare tittered, her laughter finally fading despite the humiliation on my face giving her a few more chuckles. “All of that was meaningless. You sealed the deal when you agreed to our terms. Simply put, you just got owned!” She and the doctor shared a giggle at that.

“So… what you mean to say is that you were all just having some ‘harmless’ fun?” I asked, all emotion draining from my voice.

“Precisely.” The crow nodded in affirmation.

“And I was just some source of entertainment for you all?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” the doctor paused at the expression on my face. I’m not sure how kind of absolutely pissed I looked, but it left her speechless. The Night Mare stopped her sniggering as she saw it as well.

“Is this some sort of fucking game to you daft cunts!? Huh!?” my outburst took them all by surprise, everyone backing away slightly but the crow. “I just got out of a fucking life or death situation because of your laziness, and you think you can run me through the ringer and I’ll be alright with it!? What the fuck is wrong with you! I am sick and fucking tired of being treated like a goddamn punching bag! Ever since I’ve gotten to this pitiful reality, everything’s been lining up to hit me and then kick me when I’m down. Well, I’ve had it! I’m done surrounding myself with assholes who want to play with my emotions for cheap laughs! Like I’m nothing but a freak show meant to be pointed at and disregarded as inferior! Fuck! You! Ladarion is out! And I hope you got a good fucking laugh, because that’s the last time I’ll be used!”

With that, I started walking off in a random direction. At the time, anywhere was better than being around those emotional leeches. The plague doctor and Night Mare were likely looking at each other in confusion, and the crow was probably shaking her head in disappointment, ready to fly after me to tell me that I overreacte― “What the hell do you want?”

“We apologize, Ladarion,” the crow replied. “It was not Our intent to anger thee.”

“Well, you did. Why are you apologizing now?”

The crow went silent for a moment. “The idea was Ours. We know We and the other two are… unsettling to behold by visitors. We were merely attempting to… ‘break the ice’, as they say.”

“Good job, then. Instead of feeling like you guys are gonna murder me for saying the wrong thing, I feel like you’re assholes. Congrats.”

Crow-Lenore flinched as if struck. “We didn’t mean thou any―”

I stopped and turned toward her, cutting off her response. Raising a finger, I wanted to say something else harsh before balling my hand into a fist and violently throwing it back to my side. I licked my lips as I took a moment to compose myself. “I just need some time to myself. Alright? Your apology is accepted, because at least you had the decency to say you were sorry for your actions. God fucking knows I hardly ever got that from anyone else in my life.”

“We thank thee, Ladarion. It’s just… it gets very lonely here sometimes with just the three of us…”

“And it’s about to get lonelier. Where’s the exit.”

“B-But thou gave us thine word of acceptance!”

“That don’t mean I ain’t still beyond furious, Lenore. You were watching me the entire time I was going through that fucked up funhouse of yours. You saw just how high-strung I was, yet still you lack so much empathy that you thought it’d be a good idea to lead me on like that. Now, give me an exit or get gone.”

Sighing, the crow nodded in understanding. “We can take thee there right now if thou wish.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“We… We have seen many friends expire where We are about to send thee. It is a realm over which We have little control.”

“Friend? Don’t get too comfortable. And what do you mean, you don’t have control over where I’m being sent? Don’t you have godly powers?”

“Only in this dimension. We are little more than observers outside of this room, which is why We require the aid of the Capra Demon. And… We consider all who make it to Our realm to be friends.”

“So either they’re your friends, or they’re dead. Great choices, sister. Also, what do you mean about the Capra Demon protecting you? How’s anyone gonna befriend you if he wrecks their shit?”

“Thou art not the first to defeat him, and thou art certainly not going to be the last. He protects Us under oath, and always returns to the world of unlife after being bested.”

“Neat. Now send me out. I need to beat something within an inch of its life, and I'm sure you'd prefer that not be you.”

“Very well. Just… take this.” The crow summoned some kind of saber, sheath and all. “Please take care of thyself.”

“I’ll try,” was my reply.

“Art thou prepared? ” the crow asked.

At my nod, she sent me on my way.

“Thou knowest not the trials ahead of thee.”

Author's Notes:

I enjoyed writing this chapter. It's been a while since I wrote a fighting sequence, but I'm hoping to change that in the near future.

Edit: I just realized that maybe, just maybe, I'm writing a crack fic. It took the fucking appearance of the Capra Demon for me to realize that.