Good Ol' Jack's a Mean Ol' Fuck

Sorry kiddies, uncle Kelevra's been feeling a bit under the weather, which is understandable considering my latest escapade. It's actually pretty fucking bad I must say, my body has been deteriorating this entire time, skin has pretty much permanently turned a sickly green color. Some of the gums started to randomly bleed, eventually that progressed to occasional pus leaking out. Arthritis has pretty much extended to my entire body, hurts like a mother fucker to move let alone get out of bed. Throat hurts every time I swallow anything, as if I'm gulping down shards of glass. Nose is permanently stuffed. Migraine's never go away and my eye has been bloodshot for a good month now. In short, I look like a shambling corpse, my darling is doing her best to keep us going but she can't keep it up forever.

But I do have some good news! This entire time I could have avoided all of this pain, but recently an opportunity presented itself to gain an advantage, so a decision was made to grit and bear it until I gained said advantage. So I have embarked on a long journey to a country that I've been to numerous times, not saying where, don't want to spook the prey.

Whilst I'm stuck in this train, I figured I'd use this opportunity to catch all of you up on the latest happenings.

As you would have guess, my 'father' is no longer with me, otherwise freight hopping would be absolutely out of the question. Most of any kind of travel would be come to think of it...

Anyways.

After making me wait for months, Good Ol' Jack finally decided to come into contact, which is ridiculous come to think of it, I do him the favor of fetching his errand and then he forces me to sit around with the mumbling mess that was my 'father' for months before taking him off my hands.

Yeah the days where I was trapped in the hotel room with my 'father' weren't fun. Apart from the developing symptoms of various sicknesses that were wrecking my body, I also had the displeasure to listen to whimpers, mumbles and crumbles of the wreck that was my 'father'. It disgusted me, someone who put himself on a pedestal of being above it all, who constantly peddled the idea of how worthless and limiting fear was, who was the person who implanted in me his memories and ideologies, the urge to choke the afterlife out of him would grow by the minute.

Subduing said urges wasn't easy when in my other ear I had my darling who whilst was trying her best to preserve our body, would also hurt me in the process. A slight brain tingle here, slight exposure to what lies beyond the veils there, it burned every time she did it. This was her true love that I was thinking badly of, the one who set her on her path, but she couldn't truly hate me for my thoughts. Like  I said, my current thought process is a development that is based off of the way my 'father' thought of things and she loved him for it. It's a very complicated family argument so to say, but that's what families do, they argue, they get over it and move on.

Eventually I learned to cope with my 'father' and my darling learned to let a few mean thoughts in his direction slide. There was that one moment though...

Heh, Jack you tricky fuck...

One day I woke up, right off the bat I leaned over to the bucket that was near my bed and vomited everything I could, drank some water and then tried my best to block out the oncoming migraine. Senior Mumbles-a-lot was doing his regular schtick, sitting in his corner with the square metal contraption covering his entire head, whispering some random crap that were echoes form his past life. I began to drift back to sleep, a defense mechanism my body developed against the bombardment of symptoms that were ravaging my body. As I was about to doze off I hear the following be spoken with a clear voice that had an aura of clarity behind it: "Он вернется". 

That right there quickly snapped me out of my murky state and made me immediately roll out of bed and run up to my 'father' entirely ignoring all the struggles I experienced every other time when trying to get out of bed. This was the first time he ever said anything coherent, it was articulated in such a way that it showed me that the old me was still alive in there and how could I not proceed to try and interrogate him over his ominous message which when translated meant: "He will return."

But as the cliché would have it, as soon as I got right up in his obstructed face, he began to transfer back to his inane, lifeless mumbling, but I saw it, through the tiny holes in the metal box, I saw his eye and that for a second it lit up full of life which was now fading fairly quickly back to its lifeless state.

Irritation began to get the best of me and I was inches away from wrapping my hand around his flimsy, stitched up throat. Fortissimo did some more of her "brain pinching" which hurt like hell this time, forced me to stagger away from my 'father' in pain, trying to battle off the migraine's that were now combined with the pain from the "pinching".

Once the pain subsided a little and I could focus again I caught a glimpse of a bird flying by my room's window. Well actually no. I assume it was flying by originally, what I actually saw was said pigeon just hanging in the air with it's wings spread out, not moving an inch. At first I was confused, but as soon as I realized how quiet it had become, no more sounds of drips coming rom leaky pipes, no arguments from my noisy neighbors, no sound of the outside world whatsoever and the cockroaches were no longer scattering away from me, just sitting there, motionless like the bird. Jack had finally decided to pay me a visit.

And as soon as I came to that conclusion, a door knock. I'll be honest, it startled me, for the few minutes of silence that I was surrounded with, the only sources of noise being my own breathing and my 'father's' continued mumbling, the door knock erupted unexpectedly, didn't even hear any footsteps on the creaky floor coming from the other side of the door prior to the knocking.

I morphed the sleeve into a sharp edged spike around my stump and carefully opened the door whilst also dragging my 'father' behind me, peeking outside fully prepared to see some abomination at my door. What I was greeted with was an empty corridor of the hotel, the weird part was the fact that it was dark as hell, the only window that was present in the corridor provided no light from the outside, just pitch darkness. Which made no sense because if you'd look inside my room it was clearly daylight outside. It didn't help that only one light worked inside the corridor, the one right above my room. The shadows were just as pitch black as the darkness outside the corridor window.

And in the middle of the corridor, there he was, Good Ol' Jack in a disgustingly brown/orange getup, the jacket, the shirt, the pants, shoes, all of it different shades of orange or brown. That elderly, bruised to the point of redness hand hanging off limply by the side while the other one was in the jacket's pocket. His head entirely obscured by the thick darkness of the corridor.

"Had a pleasant trip?" His voice echoed through the corridor as if it was coming from miles away, despite the fact that he was right there. Also can't tell if he was being sarcastic, hard to tell with Creepy Crawlies.

Moment of silence on my end just to register everything that was happening. "Yeah, real pleasant." And almost as if on que a reminder of said "pleasantries" came out in the form of blood which I ended up coughing out onto the floor.

"I see." For a moment I swear I could see something shine a bright light from the darkness within which his head was enveloped. "Did you find it?" I assumed he was referring to my 'father'.

"Yup." I replied carelessly and dragged out the mumbling mess into the corridor, making him weakly stand right between us.

"Excellent." He practically hissed out, the echoing seemed to morph into this ultrasound-like noise that sounded like it travelled through the air, like a bullet, only just sound. And it was directed at my 'father' because as soon as the sound disappeared, he seemed to collapse on the floor, not in his usual fetal position. Then I noticed the darkness growing from behind Good Ol' Jack, slowly making it's way towards my 'father' who was now convulsing on the floor, repeating the thing he said earlier in my room.

The closer said darkness got, the louder my 'father' got and not with fear, or panic but... excitement. Just laying there, convulsing and yelling out "He will return." Almost breaking off into unhinged laughter.

That's when it dawned on me, some of my 'father' was still in there, I could hear the passion he implanted in me through that manic laughter, the fearlessness and the excitement for the unknown. And I was about give that part of myself up for eternal servitude...

So I ran my sharp edged spike right through my 'father's' chest before he could be consumed by darkness. His laughter got cut short, a gargle escaped his throat and then his body seized. Letting the moment sink in for a few seconds, I extracted the spike, black blood began to gush out of the wound and looked up at Jack, preparing myself for whatever messy predicament he was now going to put me through.

Steadily these two red lights began to light up from where his head was and as soon as they were at their brightest a laughter began to echo through the corridor. At first it sounded like a cackle of an old man, but the longer it lasted the louder it grew, the louder it grew the more distorted it became. It was like somebody cranked up his volume to it's fullest and it was now blowing out the speakers that were my ears. It grew so loud in fact that the entire corridor began to shake, bits of the ceiling began to crumble down and I could feel my ears begin to bleed. But as much as I wanted to get away from the noise, I gritted my teeth and stood my ground.

And then it all seized, the lights, the laughter, the shaking, all of a sudden everything came to a halt. Moment of silence and then a loud snap which came from below, it was so sudden and loud that I instinctively jumped back. As I slowly looked down, the source of the sound was the metal contraption that was around my 'father's' head, it had opened up, revealing a gruesome sight that was my 'father's' scarred and malnourished face. The glass tubes that were sticking out from between his ribs, which were holding some kind of seemingly black liquid began to also randomly shatter and what I thought of as black liquid turned out to be black smoke, that began to violently, in an almost sentient manner escape their previous glass prison. Following it, even more black smoke began to erupt from my 'father's' body, through the mouth, the nose, it even managed to mangle his body further, making holes in his chest in order to escape.

After that the smoke began to circle around me, smell gunpowder began to slowly fill my nose and as I was about to begin to cough, the entrapment stopped and the black smoke violently flew into the darkness past Jack.

As I tried to regain my composure, the echoing voice began to emanate through the corridor again. "Guess that concludes our business." Jack took out his other hand from his pocket, revealing that it had a white glove on and was holding another similar glove. He began to put the other white glove on his wrinkly, red hand.

"What was that?" I asked confused.

"That?" He questioned in a mocking tone as he finally finished hiding his ugly hand underneath the cloth of the glove. "That was my client."

He was making no sense, as I began to ask for clarification he immediately interrupted me.

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to familiarize yourself with my client." And then he began to slowly walk backwards into the darkness. Once he was fully engulfed in the darkness, the darkness began to retract along with him, slowly turning the corridor back to its previous state. But just before he left entirely, he left me with one last mystery. "Sins of the father, right?" An all too familiar cackle began to erupt, but luckily this time it was distant and was only getting quieter. It wasn't until I couldn't hear it completely anymore that I began to hear noises of the outside world again.

I've burnt that hotel, leaving my 'father's' body within the inferno.

Good Ol' Jack tricked me, which is not surprising, that's his whole schtick. As I've been travelling I've been trying to figure out what exactly is it that I released back there, but nothing seems to come to mind.

Oh well, me and my darling will cross that bridge when we get there, for now I need to concentrate on getting better.

And I WILL get better, of that you can be assured.

The light goes dim and so does our soul, who really owns it after it's gone? (Part 2)

So where did we leave off last time? Ah yes! Nightscream.

Y'know I always wondered why the Creepy Crawlies scooped some of us up after our deaths and re-purposed us. Surely they have enough power and pull to achieve whatever they want, why bring back from the dead pieces that are no longer useful? I like to think it's because we impressed them somehow during our times of survival, that's why there's a select few of those who have been allowed to come back into the game and if that's the case, it doesn't really surprise me that The Plague Doctor decided to take and re-purpose Nightscream, after all who better to mold into your personal guard dog than the person who stirred up the biggest amount of trouble for your reputation?

And so there I was, at the time unbeknownst to me that I was being confronted by said guard dog, as it's words echoed through the room instantly shutting up my malnourished counterparts inane muttering and sending him down to the ground into a fetal position, sending violent shivers down his visible spine.

The gas that had spread through the room was instantly picked up by Fortissimo and she instantly morphed around my mouth and nose as a mask of sorts, filtering out the questionable gas allowing me to breathe in clear air, whilst also letting me try and figure out where the voice was coming from, but in order to do that I needed to keep it talking, so I engaged in conversation: "Considering the fact that what's being taken belonged to me..." Having no luck in seeing through the gas, I morphed a sharp edged spike around my stump and prepared myself for a possible assault "I'd say I'm well within my rights."

"His 'Rights'...?" A mocking tone came crushing down on my ears, echoing throughout the room all around me, there was so much gas obscuring my vision I wasn't even sure we were still in the same room anymore. I swatted the gas away to the best of my ability until eventually I could see a bit better, what I saw was not a welcome sight though, 3 pairs of small red eyes were staring at me from the darkest corners of the room, the cracks in the walls, deep within the various shelves, they surrounded me which was not good. Trying to stay cautious, I backed up against the wall through which I came through prior, I figured considering the fleshy mold which served as a doorway of sorts into this room was now a dried black spot, nothing was going to come at me from behind, I was wrong. The punch came fast as lightning and just as hot, and painful, I could taste the rust of metal on my mouth as I got socked in the jaw from behind with so much force that it sent me flying down on the ground. Trying my best to collect myself as I tasted blood in my mouth, I looked up at the wall from which the punch had come and there was a rusted metal gauntlet sticking out of the previously mentioned dry black spot, balled up into a fist. It then retracted back into the darkness of the dry mold, as the gauntlet retracted the mold began to leak some kind of black liquid all the way to the ground and within the darkness of said liquid I could see a figure flicker towards me, a flash of black cloth, a streak of rusted steel, a wide smile on a deathly pale face beneath cold steel eyes in a sea of blackness.

"His right to plead." I heard the echo resume it's taunting right before the figure burst out of the mold's black liquid, slicing at me with rusted blades at an incredible speed, luckily for me Fortissimo was quicker than me and was able to protect me from the intended slicing, it did not however stop me from staggering backwards.

"His right to cry." Said staggering provided the figure with an opening, another punch to the nogging with the rusted gauntlet, the taste of blood and now pus filled my mouth.

"His right to despair." A knee was delivered swiftly into my gut, forcing me to bend over, gasping for air.

"His right to agony and suffering..." The rusted gauntlet grabbed my by my throat, the touch cold to the skin, but an outright burning sensation to the throat. With monstrous strength it lifted me upwards just by my throat and slammed me against the torture table that I described previously, only instead of hitting the floor after going through the table, I proceeded to fall a short distance, somehow ending up on my side instead of my back. Whilst trying to get up, apparently I was slammed through a door that was never there and was now in a different room.

"And creation through every lasting scream..." My attempt to stand up was cut short because the same grip was once again on my throat tight as a vice, the burning sensation returning, it felt like I was running a crazy high fever.

"All else was surrendered at the grand Hall." My assailant was now on top of me, choking the life out me with the greatest of efforts and those cold eyes that could be seen clear as day through the darkness of the hood that covered their head and through the auburn hair falling limp down their head. "All else belongs to the Master... Or did he not see the doormat?"

Beautiful speech, anyone else in my place would have probably been unnerved to the point of wetting themselves, but I've been at this for far too long now, not the first time somebody tried to choke me out I have a neat trick for just such an occasion. The collar of my jacket began to leak towards my throat and underneath the assailants gauntlet that was currently squeezing the air out of said throat. Once enough of it was placed beneath the gauntlet I forced it to burst out in a sharp spiked collar formation forcing the assailant grip loose enough for me roll backwards away from the threat, right onto my feet.

"What a warm welcome!" I coughed out through a surprisingly hoarse throat, as I stood up after my backwards roll I began to notice a certain level of light headedness creeping in, regardless I tried to maintain my balance as I extended both of my arms, pointing them directly at my assailant. "A hug and everything!" I exclaimed as I immediately had the sleeves of my Azothic jacket extend at great speed, solidifying the two tendrils as they flew through the air right towards my assailant. Landing their mark, they impaled the assailant in both of their shoulders, the force and speed behind the tendrils which were now impaling the figure sent it backwards, crashing into one of the fleshy walls of the castle. "And not even an introduction." I retracted the tendrils back towards me, leaving open, gushing wounds within the figure, morphing them back into sharp edged sleeves around my hand and stump. "I'd consider it rude, were I not the one trespassing."

As I retracted my tendrils, unpinning the assailant from the wall, allowing them to fall to their feet I managed to finally get a good look at them. Tattered black clothing were draped over a thin frame, and they weren't very tall either - 5'10" at best. It had on a torn pants and a black sweater which half-displayed a weeping wound on its stomach. On top of that, there was a trench coat that trailed down to stop just above worn out army boots. The black hood from the hoodie was pulled up to mostly cover a head of limp auburn hair. Several rusted blades hung from its left hand. No plague doctor mask, no lab coat, nothing that would even closely resemble this creature's servitude to the Beaked Disease.

As the assailant staggered to their feet, their head still hanging low revealing only that chilling smirk on their face, the wounds within their shoulders were leaking some kind of black, thick liquid, but they didn't seem to care, in fact the wounds seemed to be slowly closing up on their own. "Family requires no introduction. But if he wants a proper welcome..." They snapped their fingers and 3 pairs of red eyes appeared within the darkest corners of this new room that we were in all over again, only this time the creatures to whom said eyes belonged didn't just observe, they very quickly began to scurry towards me, attacking me, filthy rats. "He feel welcome now? To The Master's domain... And therefore Mine." 

The little, disease-ridden, oily looking rodents managed to get close enough to claw and bite through the fabric of my pants and bandages, landing scratches and bite marks onto my flesh which instantly sent my body in for a loop. Nausea blasted throughout my body in full force and a shiver, the feeling of cold was not far behind. My darling immediately recognized the danger the little shits posed and extended three black tendrils from the bottom of our jacket, wrapping around all three rats and yanking them away from my legs and into the depths of darkness that was our jacket, I could hear her going to town on the rats as the sound of their tiny bones crunching and cracking could be heard coming from deep within our Azothic jacket. I also managed to notice the sound during my struggle with the rats, the sound of screeching hinges and rusty metal that had occurred behind me, whatever it was that had materialized behind me couldn't have been good news, since my assailant was now rushing at me, clearly trying to herd me in the direction where the metallic sound came from.

"Why, allow me to return the courtesy..." I needed two hands for this oncoming attack, so I had morphed the sleeve around my stump to resemble that of a hand, regardless of how crooked, wrong and sharp clawed it might have ended up. "And offer you a hug of my own, o disease-ridden one!" I was able to avoid the stabbing attempt with it's rusty knives, allowing me to get fairly close to my assailant, grab it by it's trench coat and pull it towards me as I fell backwards onto the ground. Putting my feet up against it's belly I pushed it upwards with all of my strength, using the momentum to my advantage, allowing me to launch it through what appeared to be a metal, rusty gate that had materialized out of nowhere. The figure went crashing through the gate, deep into the darkness of the different room, as I myself tried to continue to use the momentum and roll backwards right onto my feet, the sickening nausea was doing it's job in making me feel sick and disoriented and so clumsily, I ended up stumbling through the same gates right after my assailant.

The room was like something you'd see in a medieval movie: chains hanging from the walls, moldy straw on the floor, and a drip coming from somewhere above that had created a murky puddle in the middle. Whilst I was fighting the urge to vomit, my darling had to once against concentrate on the infectious disease that was spreading through our body, so she ended up letting go of the rats she had seemingly consumed before, all three of them scurrying away towards my assailant, clawing their way up its torn pants. Two pushed themselves into the gaping wound at its gut, and the other scrambled up to its shoulder and curled around its neck. As the two Rats vanished, those silver eyes flashed the same red as the rats' eyes, and it smirked in a fashion that suggested just how far removed its thinking was from rational.

At its left side, those rusted blades dragged against the stone as it lurched itself back up. "Special little snowflake... He could be worth interest. Maybe more even than the broken boy..." The Figure took a step backwards and suddenly I could hear the same sound of rusted hinges and clanging metal erupt from behind The Figure and all of a sudden the gates that it went crashing through were now behind it, instead of me. "The Doctor is with another patient~ Please make yourself comfortable and He'll be right with you." It was going to lock me in that dungeon and let the Beaked Disease sort me out, I couldn't allow that.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to skip out on my appointment with the good doctor." Hastily I morphed two sharp edged spikes around my hand and stump and began to charge at The Figure, the words that I had uttered may have been spoken with a certain level of bravado but in reality my condition did not reflect that confidence. Whilst my darling was still fighting off the disease within our body, it's effects were still present and my take off and the following attack was clumsy, off balance and disorienting.

As a result The Figure had no problem not only avoiding my attempt at a slash, but I would quickly find the grip of it's cold and wet hands around my throat. With insane level of strength it picked me up and slammed me right into the ground, looming over me with that sickening smirk. "Well then. Maybe I'll just have to take care of him... Won't I...? But where to target? Boils...? Lesions...? Sores...? So cliché. Maybe... Bit of fluid in the lungs, I think... Just to start. Or does he not even breathe anymore? Sad. Or perhaps 'pathetic' is more accurate..." See those insults would hurt, if at the time I wasn't concerned with all sorts of pains that were ravaging my body, if that wasn't enough it lifted it's other hand, the one that was wearing the rusty gauntlet and it drew it's bladed tips down one of the cheeks on my face, it felt like somebody stuck a syringe in my face and was pumping me full of tar.

This is where things become a blur, the pain and sickness that I was feeling radiating through the body was becoming overwhelming and slowly but surely I began to let go the control of our human host, retracting further within said human host to avoid all the pain that was being inflicted from within. However the next feeling that washed over me was that of comfort, it happened a few times now for me to instantly realize what it meant, Fortissimo assumed control of our host in my place to try and get us out of the predicament we had found ourselves in. I remember feeling a great burning sensation, a struggle of sorts, like a needle was pushing through rotten flesh with great effort and the further it pushed the hotter it got. The next thing I remember was being bombarded with visions, images of someone's life, bits and pieces of forgotten memories that would start and end abruptly, a jumbled mess flashing through at great speed, to me it was all incomprehensible but to my darling, there was one image she managed to latch onto, an image of an infant, a cursed infant, an infant with blackened skin and black voided holes in place of eyes, nose and mouth.

This image reminded her of my research when I was piecing together my plans, reading through previous blogs that now lay abandoned, their owners long gone, at least that was the belief. She was able to connect this cursed memory to it's owner - Nightscream, this post in particular, a memory of Laura coming into existence, a very short and cursed existence. But knowing the identity of our assailant was useless unless we could use it somehow against it and that's exactly what my darling did, I couldn't see anything whilst she was in control, but I could feel it, the peaceful emptiness that instantly washed over our host's body despite it rapidly deteriorating just a few seconds ago, the quiet nothingness that she had undoubtedly revealed to the diseased Nightscream, something she desperately wants to reveal to me but can not, because it will consume me. Whatever it was, it had worked in pushing Nightscream away, with relief washing over the body and pain subsiding to a great extent, I once again assumed control of the body, whilst Fortissimo went back inside in order to fight off any remaining infections and diseases. With my vision returning I was greeted with the sight of Nightscream backing away from me, hissing at the quickly dimming light source that was shining upon it that was seemingly coming from somewhere behind me, which made no sense considering I was on the ground. I would have tried to investigate where the light source was coming from, but with the relief from the burning pain of Nightscream's touch came the repercussions as well, I immediately turned on my side feeling a great urge to vomit up whatever was left of my dinner and trickles of blood along with it. Whilst disgusting, it was also relieving, my nausea seemed to go away completely, pity I couldn't say the same about the splitting headache that was still acting up, but there was no time to waste on that, I had a window of opportunity and knowledge, it was time to utilize both.

I struggled to get up, ignoring the splitting headache, the shaky feet all the while I could hear Nightscream's voice coming from within the shadows it back off into "Clever boy..." it echoed all around me, almost pressuring me back onto the ground, it sounded irked "Clever... clever boy..."

It sounding irked was a good sign, means that some of it's past self the good doctor left intact for whatever reason and it was the Nightscream of the past that I wanted to have a word with, considering fighting it proved to be fruitless so far. As I struggled to my feet, I also began reaching for my mobile within the jacket, thank fuck for my data somehow managing to work within that hell hole. I began to quickly dig through spotify, as I was frantically typing out the name of the desired artist I was searching for, a rush of excitement began to wash over me, can you blame me? I get the chance to see how far Nightscream had fallen after it's demise, did it become as much of a puppet as it's dear friend Morningstar? The train of thought had to be interrupted as I had finally found what I was looking for: Kenny G, an artist I am only familiar with because it was his music that Nightscream was listening to whilst facing it's deep, dark and forgotten thoughts during it's last days on the board. A distorted barrage of various instruments began to emit from my phone as I finally stood up and looked directly at Nightscream, still standing deep within the darkness of the room.

"I remember Alex mentioning being mutilated by something in here..." I chuckled at myself for not connecting the dots earlier "Someone like you, Nightscream."

"Merely necessary..." We were off to a bad start, because those two words came out within a dismissive tone, you'd figure being reminded that you at some point attacked and mutilated your loved one would elicit a slightly more emotional reaction, but apparently not, at least not visibly. "If this is his idea of a first date, he'll have to try harder. The last Prince Charming at least bought me breakfast first, before taking things for his own." Yup, it didn't seem like I was going to trigger an emotional response, didn't know that at the time though, so I kept on digging. "'Nightscream' wasn't known for mercy, thief. No more so than what stands before you now. Old name, old boss... Same tendencies, I'm afraid to admit. What exactly does he hope to accomplish here, I wonder? Or is this merely the flip-flopping struggles of a fish caught out of water?"

"Thief?" I questioned innocently, because I had absolutely no intent on stealing anything. "Why, I'm just a neighbor stepping in to merely borrow a cup of sugar. The issue of course is that there isn't exactly a front door to knock on..." Well that wasn't entirely correct. "At least not the one that you can find easily." I gave Screamer the gist of how I ended up entering the Crumbling Castle, that it was all thanks to Good Ol' Jack pointing me in the right direction and that in return he wanted me to retrieve somethin from this sickening place. "And the pathetic, blithering mess of re-animated flesh that you had chained up was exactly that 'something'." Some of you might question my harshness towards Oleg, isn't he essentially my parent? The one who showed me my purpose and who is the love of my darling? All of those things are true, however that does not remove the fact that he was broken, he allowed himself to be broken, to be engulfed by fear and becomes it's slave, all of that after his countless musings about how fear is worthless and should be cast aside, those who can not do it are weak and should be removed from the game and there he was, completely enveloped in fear, what else am I supposed to feel other than disgust? But he was no longer a threat, merely a bargaining chip, the real threat was in front of me. "I wasn't even planning on taking anything until Jack interfered, nor was I looking for a fight." I explained innocently. "I was just looking for information, that will help me eradicate our old, tall and thin friend."

The voice came in response from the shadows accompanied by a pitying tone "Oh, my, and I thought I'd seen the peak of arrogance in my life! Humans must always outdo themselves, I suppose." An expected response, back in the day it might have irked me, but I had heard this line so many times at this point, I find it to be quite entertaining now. As it stood in the shadows of the room, the only thing that was visible this entire time were the bright, silver eyes that looked as if they were glowing, however after the previous line was uttered, the same darkness began to engulf said eyes, I have lost sight of Screamer yet again, but it's voice continued to echo through the room. "So certain. So assured. Self-important welp~ many before him have tried such things. Others simply tried to outsmart He That Is. All failed. The Black King has sat upon His thrown since the last war to end all wars. Who is this one to say he can topple Him from it, when even Plague struggles to?" What funny trite, shows how long Nightscream's been locked up inside of Plague's tower, considering the "Black King" has been toppled, plague has been a far more relevant topic of discussion in our world than our Tall and Faceless Friend. "Perhaps Jack in the Box has used him for more than a delivery boy. A Fool's errand. He knows well enough that any he sends here would not be stumbling out... For he knows the Plague Doctor has Himself a fine guard dog to stalk the Crumbling Castle these days. A mere... distraction, perhaps? By why involve  the lab Rats? To toy with that fractured mind, perhaps? Jacky-boy, Jacky-boy, always five steps ahead... Not that he's the only one..." Perfect, it's supposed autonomy was only limited to the tower, considering how clueless Nightscream seemed to be to the major changes that the game underwent since it's death.

But there was no time to rub that little factoid in, considering the darkness of the room began to grow, very clearly trying to press me up against a wall of pulsating flesh that was behind me, wasn't a big fan of that idea considering those things swallow you up and spit you out fuck knows where, as the voice echoed again the silver eyes began to shine through the darkness again, slowly getting closer and with it a plethora of tiny red eyes, the rotten rats were back. "He called me Nightscream. The Oathbreakers... call me Outbreak. I say, same as ever... Call me whatever suits. I still don't care. But... maybe he might. Maybe it makes a difference to our little thief. Little errand boy~ 'Choose the nightmare', isn't that what I used to say? Fair is fair. I may be the last friendly face he ever sees, after all. I hope his cup of sugar will be worth it~"

I was once again, clearly being herded in a specific direction by all the growing darkness around me and yet despite that, I couldn't help but give out a laugh at everything that had been said. "Human!?Methinks you have not been paying attention, Screamer. Many before have underestimated me, thinking me to be nothing but a pompous lunatic with delusions of grandeur. And yet I'm one of the few who was able to transcend their humanity without becoming a pawn." Which is true, who else managed to pull something like this off? Only a few come to mind. "Certain? Self-important? Yes!" It was time to try and throw in the bait, see if the fish would bite. "For my goal is the only one that matters in this game. The reason your master can't succeed is because for whatever reason it is not interested in taking things to their limit, same with the 'Black king'." Referring to our Tall and Faceless Friend by that moniker filled my already sick stomach with even more sickness "They are not interested in wiping out existence, but We are!"

Screamer, or Outbreak as it was apparently known nowadays seemed to be completely uninterested with my diatribe which was evidenced by it looking away with disinterest, instead choosing to converse with the dirty rat that was on it's shoulder. "The Human Specimen at its finest, isn't it, my friend~? Having surrendered the only thing that was ever important, and proclaiming themselves all the superior for it..." A pleasant smile formed on it's pale face. "Reminds me of simpler days. I'd hold conversation with morons then too~" Not a good sign, the fish was clearly not biting, which irritated me, someone who was so talented at this game, seemingly showing not even an inkling of interest as to how it may have changed and re-formed during it's absence. The rat responded by gnashing its teeth and flicking that long, gnarled tail around its throat. "Hn~ So right. Silly boy. Just another Icarus, unaware of the wax beginning to soften, but I shouldn't judge, should I? I was moronic too. I lost sight. Lost perspective. Lost myself, and then lost hope. Why deny the next generation such joy? Only fair, especially for a cousin. We were always such a rude little lot..." The eyes once again were engulfed by darkness and the voice began to radiate from various directions within the room. "Icarus wishes to undo the entirety of it all then? I suppose points are earned for sheer scope, but then that begs the question..." Long pause, uncomfortably long in fact, the room was filled with sudden silence apart from the wet, pulsating sound of the fleshy wall behind me. I was about to speak up, when all of a sudden, like a gunshot that exploded directly into my face, it's voice came back, loud as ever to a point where I was hearing ringing in my ears, all of that from a simple question of: "How?" 

Have you ever felt like you've been punched by a question? No, I'm not talking about a question shaking your resolve, I'm talking physically, because that's what it felt like when Outbreak broke out that 'How'. As if something had violently tried to yank me out of my own mind and the ringing in my ears did not help, it didn't get better once the ringing settled because it was immediately followed up by a cacophony of different voices of varying volumes and when you can't see shit, as well as can't hear anything apart from different yells from your past, everything can become fairly disorienting REALLY fast. It didn't help that said voices were coming from three different sets of memories: My own; the ones implanted in my by my old self; and of course Claude's own. It felt like all types of different demons were trying to devour my mind from the pompous therapists that my past self had spent his entire childhood listening, to Alesana's pleading for Claude to spare her life, to my own voice berating my darling over our disagreements... Despite all of that it was my darling that was the reference point that would help me not be lost in all of this cacophony, the line that I 'Walk' every day of my existence, a line between keeping myself separate from my darling and completely merging with her into a singular being in result losing myself within her infinite knowledge that is beyond my comprehension... for now. Through greeted teeth I managed to snarl out: "Get off it!" and as I spoke I could see black liquid dripping from my mouth, not a good sign but despite the disorientation, the growing pain all over my body and the greatest urge to keel over, I carried on. "Important!? Don't be delusional!" How could it not see such an obvious flaw in it's logic, how could it see ANY value in humanity whilst it finds itself shackled to this hellhole? "The fact that you are here after your death, reduced to nothing more than an obedient lapdog much like Starman proves it!" My legs were shaking, begging me to lean on something for support, considering the only thing that was nearby for that was the fleshy wall, I refused and forced myself to stand on my own. "Everything you've ever done during YOUR humanity is meaningless, because that entire time your dead son could have been reduced to exactly the same thing." I could feel the pain ease within me, must have been my darling's work, but the lingering voices from the various pasts were still there, so a good rattle was in order, so I punched myself in the head "IT'S..." another "AN..." and another "ENDLESS..." one more for good measure "CYCLE!" Finally, sweet silence in my head and the pain had subsided greatly, the relief was so pleasant that I couldn't help but give out a small giggle. "It's all pointless, hence why my mission is the only one that matters."

"And as for how..." Now standing straight, I shot a glance upwards not particularly looking at anything, I just assumed that Outbreak was somewhere above me within the darkness, seemed like the type to look down on others whilst lecturing them. "Redlight had all the ingredients at his disposal, he was just too shortsighted to bake the cake." I love bringing up Redlight, especially to those whom he traumatized, fucked over and left irrecoverable wounds, it's a pity that in this case I could not see the face of said victim, but something tells me there wouldn't be any reaction, at least not an outward one. "The 'sugar' that would help him bake said 'cake' used to be here. Until it was stolen." Oh how I greatly desired to see Outbreak's reaction to that one, considering it was it's job to guard this place and failing to prevent the theft of said 'sugar', I wonder how the Plagued One punished it for that. "I came here to try and get a trail to the 'sugar's' whereabouts. So it is very fortunate that you are around Nightscream, after all who better to set me on said trail, than the thief's closest and possibly only ally."

Further disorientation as even the sound of the fleshy pulsating wall that was behind me began to get drowned out by the ensuing reverberating, seemingly empty voice that seemed to be sounding from every possible direction: "My existence here is nothing short (nothing short) of a miracle (miracle). My new Master could have condemned me (condemned me). Reduced me even beyond the blithering wreck (wreck) Spencer left in his tantruming wake (wake). Even if I had died (died), what do we know of death (death?) Is it silent (silent)? Is it a rerun of a life lived (life lived?) Do we just Blink and start again (all over again). Instead of the gamble, Plague spared me (mercy). Plague fixed me (rebuilt anew). He wanted a soldier to lead his doctors against the maddogs (traitor in the pack). Reclaim His spot on the hierarchy (rise of disease). Make the world remember (remember) why He should be feared beyond all else (all else)." I had given up at this point trying to find out where Outbreak was hiding, I got what I wanted, we were having a verbal back and forth all I had to do was stay on my guard, is what I thought at the time at least, that logic would prove to be a resounding failure as I would feel a rusty blade gently planted on my cheek from behind turning my face to the side, revealing that Outbreak was now behind me, looming over me. "And Leo....? He lived an extra year because of me. Even after everything... It was worth it. Regrets notwithstanding. See... Everyone is allowed their delusion, darling~ Otherwise where's the fun?" It leaned in close, very close, sickeningly close, not sure if the rush of sickness washing over me was due to Outbreak's extremely close proximity, or the rusted blade that was making contact with my skin, maybe both? "I've settled on mine. And...You... on yours... oh great destroyer of worlds~" It was smirking, for the first time addressing me directly, couldn't tell if it was mocking me, or digging for something. "Yet... Here... In this place, you find yourself. In my... Gracious company... And you... can't kill me. Not here. I can cage you and let you try to escape. I can kill you entirely, and your soul would never leave... But you... can't kill me. Unfair, I know, but thems the breaks. So tell me... Why should I let you go, leave alone tell you anything? Why should I let you take the Oathbreakers' experiment away? Why should I help you... Eliminate everything?"

Now we were getting into the meat and potatoes, the apathy on display might have been genuine on Outbreak's behalf, but it still asked the question, the lingering issue all humans possess still within it, curiosity and that I could work with, but first a little bit of ego-stroking. "And remember it did." As much as it hurt to do, I stared back right into it's bright silver eyes, the amount of toxicity radiating just off of it's gaze was strong, but I wasn't going to show it any weakness on my part. "Quite the admirable piece of work, I must say." I put my hand on it's rusty blade, a move that was made to determine how much freedom it would allow me whilst I was at its mercy, as soon as I put my hand on the blade, the toxicity intensified, the pain that shot through my hand was immeasurable, it's as if I had instantly developed arthritis from that single touch. "Whole countries in lockdown. A good majority of people dead. Fearmongering and panic. All due to an invisible assailant." I gripped the rusty blade, letting it pierce the skin and allowing my blood to smear over my bandages and the rusty blade. "A tragedy that effected millions and will be remembered by said millions." And after all of that build up, now was the time to drop the reality check, time to cure the disease, or at least, forget about it. So I let go of the blade and moved away from Outbreak with an unimpressed look on my face. "That is until another takes the number one spot." A shrug to further hammer in the point. "And you have to go through the process all over again."

"But you seem to have settled into that role, as disappointing as it may be." And disappointing it was, to see a creature like Nightscream who had so much potential to do great things, so easily and boringly pass up on an opportunity to take vengeance on the one monstrosity that no one could take vengeance on, instead settling into it's sad life of servitude, just sad. "You're right. You could try to do all of those things, I'm pretty much at your mercy here, but the better question is, why wouldn't you?" If the parental side was non-responsive, then maybe I could jog it's other instincts. I got back into it's face albeit not as close as before. "The Plagued One snatched you up and changed you for a reason, you're not one of his mindless servants, you're something more, why? Because you've made an impression, hence why you're not entirely hollowed." I tilted my head to the side, trying my best to mimic Our Tall and Faceless Friend all the while still smiling. "A bit mind fucked, but for you that's nothing new, right?" At this point I wrapped two of my fingers around it's rusty blade and pulled it back to my face. "And it takes a mind fucked individual to play with people the way you did, torture's beneath you. That's Starboy's schtick." I miss you Starman wherever you are, our philosophical and insult-filled debates on the nature of the game were so much fun! "Yours was playing people against one another and reaping the rewards. That's what you get out of this." Well maybe less of the 'rewards' part considering how Screamers fate turned out in the end. "If I remember correctly, your 'Ally' stole before mentioned 'sugar' from here and you've yet to retrieve it." It was time to rub in the fact that it's role as a guard dog didn't have a spotless record. "But by letting me and the worthless husk go with the information, I'd be heading into direct conflict with said 'Ally'." It was time to play to it's talent to try and awaken a desire for more than boring servitude. "On one hand he might kill me and you get the satisfaction of my pompous ass being proven wrong. On the other I get away with the 'sugar' and because I lack the precautions your 'Ally' has, you have an opportunity to retrieve the stolen property." I clasped my hand against my stump, waiting for it's response with it's rusted blade by my face. "Honestly it's a win/win for you."

A wicked smile bloomed on those corrupted features at the mention of Plagues most recent work. "Beautiful, isn't it? History in the making. The Black Plague. The Spanish Flu. Measles. Polio. These things... They killed too quickly. They were too obvious. If a disease doesn't have a host, the disease itself gets trapped. Locked down, if you will. The death earns fear, but it's a play with an end game set. This time... The plan was different. It was more about control. More about ensuring the spread.  Erasing the concept of an end at all. Lethality, yes. Danger. Suffering. But within a measure that allowed the disease itself to breathe. Grow. Mutate. And allow panic to become its own virus." It tilted it's head in response to mine. "The best is yet to come, I assure you. It's a magic act, my boy. The public is focused on the disease with the obvious symptoms, but the other hand has been pulling another string. One with no pesky cold like symptoms to give it away. A twin virus. A sister stream. Imagine... If something akin to dementia or schizophrenia could be caught like the common cold. Imagine the confusion as society itself realizes that they can't even trust their own thoughts. I personally would find it very... Therapeutic... But, as you said, I do happen to have... a few screws loose..." Is that a fact? Well if they have further plans in store for this world they better start acting upon it soon, a certain war has already made everyone forget about the plague that ravaged this world a year ago. At the time however it seemed to be quite proud of itself, giving out a chuckle whilst talking about the Good Doctor's handiwork, a chuckle that made it's chest make crackly sounds that did not sound healthy at all. "Although," It interrupted itself as it stepped past me. "Torture is not quite beneath me... Or did my hobby of repurposing medieval torture devices never hit home? I wonder if my Iron Maiden is still in the basement of the church... Hmm... Thought for another time, perhaps..." Just because it partook in torture doesn't mean it wasn't beneath it, not when it's talent seemed to lie in how it was more effective in inflicting and exploiting psychological weaknesses of it's adversaries, like the time it went undercover as a captured soldier in order to make the captured captain spill the information it was looking for. It turned to face me. One arm crossed over its chest and the left arm rested on it to have those bloodied blades of its gauntlet poised near its face. A strange noise entered the room, a grating noise of metal pieces scraping against each other. "And I said everyone is allowed their delusion. That doesn't make you harmless." Uuuuh a compliment. "Let us not forget that Europe was brought to its knees by fleas, hm? If you want to keep breathing - or whatever it is you do - you really should do better at listening." A dark smile pulled back into place. "I may be dead, but I'm not brain-dead, little one. Or... maybe I am. I certainly wouldn't know if I was, would I~?" 

From the darkness, another rat dashed forward, ran up its leg and buried itself into the weeping wound at its abdomen. Outbreak's eyes flashed red and it turned away from me, looking off into the darkness, a moment of silence and it turned it's attention back to me, it's eyes back to their silver color. "You are lucky, little mouse. It seems like my attention is needed elsewheres..." It turned it's entire body towards and the action looked otherworldly, it's like when it turned, it's skin didn't instantly turn with it, like something was pulling it's skin in another direction. "So, darling... Here's the deal. I am one who fought against fate my whole life. You... Simply need to prove its on your side. Entertain me, mouse, for I bore easily. All you need to do is find the exit. No tricks - there will be a correct route, and I will even keep the Castle mostly stable - but I won't just hand it over. Life doesn't work that way. Fair warning, as well... I am not the only monster that stalks these Halls, though I am the most cordial. I suggest you hide from the others. You make it to the door with your dead weight in tow... And I think you will have deserved the fresh air." It motioned with it's hand and a sudden sound of tiny movement began to break out from the ground that was enveloped by the darkness of the room, turns out said darkness were a dozen of cockroaches, all of which were now suddenly scattering away in different directions, revealing the husk that was my past self, curled up into a fetal position, shaking. Outbreak crouched down near it, blocking off my view of the pathetic husk. "You should consider yourself lucky. This is a pet of the Oathbreakers only these days. I wouldn't be so generous letting an interest of the Plague Doctor himself walk out the door. Despite some past mistakes, I'm not entirely suicidal." A long pause, which would prove to be a retrospective pause. "Been there, done that. It isn't worth the hype~"

I personally did not care for it's toying with my old body, that body it was crouching over was no longer Oleg, like I said it was a broken husk, not worth the pity. What I did care about was the fact that Outbreak seemed to be letting me go, for it's own entertainment purposes of course, anybody in my place would probably take it up on it's offer and run for the hills but there was a small issue there. I still did not get the information I was looking for and considering that I failed to get under it's disease ridden skin verbally, it was time to try a more physical approach. Ordinarily I wouldn't try it with an entity like Outbreak, humans like Fell and Whelp I can pull it off fairly easily (As long as I'm not interrupted) but when it comes to freaks like Starman, it proves to be quite a dangerous endeavor. I was going to plunge myself within Outbreak and try to dig through it's memories in order to get the information I needed. I began to slowly and cautiously approach Outbreak while it was busy toying with the useless Husk on the ground. "Not worth the hype huh?" I spoke quietly in order to try and hide the fact that my voice was getting closer, whilst forming a sharp edged spike from the sleeve of my jacket around my stump. "Maybe you should try murder-" I was now inches away from my captor, there was no going back. "INSTEAD!" I yelled out as I plunged the sharp edged spike deep into it's back, pushing it in as deep as I possibly could, I want to say I managed to go all the way to the elbow but this is where details get a bit fucky.

Transferring my "mind" from my hosts body into the liquid state of my jacket doesn't come as naturally to me as I would like it to be at this point, it's always a messy process. It's even a messier process when whatever it is you're transferring to feels like an acid bath, burning every part of you bit by bit, molecule by molecule and yet when you set someone on fire, they don't instantly die, the body runs around and thrashes around for a while before the fire consumes it and that's what I had, a few moments of digging before being completely consumed by Outbreak's insides. Thank God Outbreak decided to present itself in a semi-human form, it definitely made it easier to navigate through since I am fairly familiar with the human anatomy, doesn't mean it was easy though, it didn't help that I was getting significant pushback whilst also being disintegrated alive, it's as if whilst I was flowing within Outbreak, something was in turn flowing into me, a very similar feeling to when me and Starman got all "tangled up". At some point, not sure how, but I managed to stumble upon the memories it kept within itself, all of them flashing before me with great speed, it was hard to concentrate between the constant pain, the pushback and the sensory overload, I could feel myself slowly getting lost, I swear I could hear laughter. Then suddenly, a burst of pain shot through my entire being, this pain was different from the one that was constantly burning away at me, this pain was instant, strong, as if lightning had struck me, very similar to a certain type of "lightning" I had encountered before and it came from one specific memory, a memory of a hiding spot that I was looking for, I had it, I got what I needed, it was time to get the fuck out of there.

"Exiting" Outbreak was the most satisfying thing I had done during my entire time within the fucking Castle, the satisfaction wouldn't last though as I would instantly be bombarded with all sorts of disease-related symptoms: Headache, stuffiness, light-headedness, dry throat, nausea, joint pain, you fucking name it, it was so bad that I simply couldn't move. I had to relinquish the control of our hosts body to Fortissimo, when I do that, my memory isn't the greatest, the details of our escape from the Crumbling Castle are murky at best, I do remember one thing specifically, right before I felt the pressure of the Castle lift I could see Outbreak leaned back within the Castle's shadows. Arms crossed leisurely, one bladed. Glowing silver eyes under a grin. And three glowing red eyes around its shoulders, it wasn't dead.

Next thing I can very clearly remember is waking up in a hotel room that I had "rented" before my departure into the Good Doctor's domain. I couldn't get out of bed for 2 hours, every part of my body was in pain, it was very cold despite the nearing summer warmth, I was seeing spots, at some point during my "sleep" I had vomited all over the floor and my legs were simply refusing to cooperate, to make the experience more grating, an all too familiar mumbling was also present in my room, the Husk of my past self was sitting in the corner of the room, meaning that we had succeeded in getting the information and Jack's little trophy. That was about two and a half months ago and I didn't get better at all, despite my darling's best efforts to fix me up, in fact I've only gotten worse, so much worse that I'm pretty sure I've spread whatever it is that I have throughout the entire hotel, hence the reason for my prolonged silence, I had to move 7 times now because I can't stay anywhere for too long, ordinarily I wouldn't care about random people getting infected with a potentially deadly disease, because of the laws that were introduced due to recent events in our world, the infection spike would attract attention and I simply do not have the strength for that, it doesn't help that I can't shake the feeling of someone constantly eyeballing me from somewhere, like there's this invisible force that is just inches away from strangling me.

So since then I've been moving constantly and to tell you the truth, I'm getting pretty sick and tired of dragging this worthless husk around everywhere with me. I am still waiting for Good Ol' Jack to show up and take the worthless, mumbling mess off my hands, so I can finally concentrate on getting better and going after my new findings.

Crumbling castles, rotting skin, where do they go when the light goes dim? (Part 1)

 And I'm back!

A little worse for wear, well no, actually that's a lie, a lot worse for wear is more accurate, to be precisely accurate I'd have to go into the minute detail of this body's health and that would require me to write up an entire essay to try and cover everything that is wrong with said health and I have to jot down what had transpired first.

So to keep it short, I'm fucked, I'm feeling fucked and the said fucking isn't getting any better. But have no fear dear reader! For I of course already have a plan to unfuck the fucking, so we'll pull through it, like we always do.

Aaaand I missed Christmas AND New Year, bummer, oh well I hope you all enjoyed your fear-filled, lonely and paranoia-fueled celebrations! I sure as hell didn't.

So, after my previous kerfuffle with Corpsy I was able to stumble upon a derelict part of some kind of tower, obviously it wasn't much of a tower anymore, the structure of the moss covered bricks clearly implied that it once was though. There was a broken apart opening within said structure, inside of which was covered in various pieces of graffiti which clearly indicated that other people at some point in time also managed to find this abandoned structure that was just sitting deep within the forest.

There I was, back at said structure, staring directly through said opening, the wind blowing from one end and out the other, this was the first giveaway that this was no regular abandoned structure that homeless bums were using as refuge, when the air blew in my direction from the opening the air felt sick, the smell of rotting flesh was way too pronounced for an area that was covered in foliage, I was about to enter the domain of a creature that has grew in power significantly over the last few years, possibly more so than our Tall and Slender Friend, it definitely made itself more relevant in comparison.

The Plague Doctor.

I never had a run in with neither itself nor its servants, The Oathbreakers. I wasn't exactly looking to piss off more of the Creepy Crawlies, I already have enough heat on me as is what with the Dying Man's Undead Agent trying to assassinate me at every opportunity he gets, The Blind Man's Jamaican Messenger keeping tabs on me and the most recent Good Ol' Jack passing over a debt from my past self onto me, it's been getting a bit crowded so I wasn't planning to linger within the Crumbling Castle for too long, a simple snatch and run operation is all it was meant to be, problem was, I wasn't sure what exactly I was snatching and as I would come to find out, wouldn't know where to run exactly as well.

Despite that, me and my darling, we were always driven by our resolve and the information that I needed was within the walls of the Crumbling Castle, so I stepped through the opening and as I got closer to the middle of the round structure the wind picked up the pace and blew against my face with such speed, it's as if I was going through the streets of Moscow in the middle of winter, so cold and powerful that it forced me to squint my eye due to the force the wind was smashing against my face, my vision literally became blurry.

And with every step forward the surroundings began to change, the smell began to outright reek of rotting flesh, the sound of my footsteps changed from those of feet stepping on ground to feet stepping on stone, a sound that also echoed which instantly implied that I was no longer in the forest. Finally the wind seized and I could adjust my vision to my new surroundings, a long, cold, dark hallway that was surrounded by stone walls, resembling that of a castle's interior.

The stench was the first thing that hit me, it hit me like a freight train, the rotten smell of puss filled mucus stretched out throughout the entire hallway. Countless moans and groans of pain could be heard echoing throughout the hallway among other strange noises which did not at all resemble anything even close to a human. And as I took my first step, my boot seemed to sink into the ground with a squishing noise revealing to me that while the walls seemed to be stone, the ground was soft and seemed to have a slight fleshy color to it when I shined my phone over it.

As I dredged through the squishy hallways the feeling of nausea began to creep up, I was getting light headed, the further I traversed the more sore my throat began to feel and somewhere deep inside a desire to vomit began to build up. Luckily I had my darling with me, Fortissimo quickly started to work around within our body making sure that previously mentioned symptoms were taken care of. Feeling her flow through my veins and eliminate the intrusive sickness was quite the relief.

It felt like hours that I had spent walking through that endless and wretched hallway, the uneven terrain was slowly taking it's toll as I could feel painful blisters begin to form on various areas of my feet. My ear drums were beginning to hurt from the constant, all encompassing thumping sound that was radiating through the entire hallway, resembling the sound of a heart beat. If it weren't for my darling cleansing our body, I would have collapsed in the middle of that hallway and would have probably been consumed by the swampy ground.

And yet somehow, despite all of those painful sensations I managed to pick up on it, a feint echo of chatter in the distance. There wasn't anywhere to hide, the hallway was fairly straightforward with no deviations in sight, my only means of masking my presence was me turning off the flashlight of my phone and standing completely still, so that the darkness of the hallway and it's various unending sounds could hide my intrusion. At first I couldn't understand what the various voices were saying, or even where the hell they were coming from, but by paying closer attention and concentrating I could discern what these voices were saying, they seemed to be reciting a variety of injuries, at least that's what it sounded like at first, but as I listened it quickly dawned on me that what was being recited were the various causes of death, a recital of a death certificate. Who it belonged to? Unknown. Why could I hear it despite the fact that there was nothing near me, no rooms, no people, just an endless dark hallway? Unknown.

What became very clear to me during my listening session however, was the fact that the swampy ground was consuming me. I only noticed once it got me up to my knees, a pointless struggle began on my end as I desperately tried to claw my way out and stab the fleshy ground that was now consuming me to no avail. I still remember breathing the awful smell once I was effectively underneath the fleshy ground, the taste in my mouth was that of rotten teeth, a taste I'm familiar with from my past life. But something wasn't right here, I wasn't suffocating, sure I could smell and taste all these disgusting things, but that was the key factor, I COULD SMELL. The darkness that I was surrounded by was not pressuring my body, wherever I was, I wasn't restrained so the first thing I did was reach for my phone and turn on the built-in flashlight, revealing to me a completely new local, a study/torture chamber of sorts.

The medieval aesthetic persisted even in this room, but as the wet drips of something oily that would come crashing down on my head would reveal to me, the ceiling seemed to consist of the same fleshy colored substance that I ended up falling through, which even seemed to extend to some parts of the stone walls. To my relief, this new room's ground seemed to consist of the same material as it's walls; stone, no falling through that.

Looking around I was instantly greeted with a wooden table that had leather straps attached to it, which would be used to restrain an individual's hands and feet. It had a bunch of wooden winches attached to it as well, revealing that the table had a far more sinister purpose then that of simple restraint, which was confirmed by the various dried blood stains covering the entire contraption. A wooden shelf above it that had jars sitting on top of said shelf, filled with unknown to me liquids which also seemed to house various organs of all kinds, some didn't even seem to resemble that of a humans. And probably the scariest sight of all to any supposed recipient of any "medical treatment" in this room, a wall that had a plethora of various tools hanging off of it: parting blades, lifters, pincers, shears, cauteries, bloodletting devices, amputation knives, an artificial leech and a tonsil guillotine.

No doubt a playground for all the wannabe surgeons that the great plague inducing one has in his employ, there was one problem with said playground, there was no exit. No doorway out of this rotting room, absolutely nothing and yet despite that the echo of voices persisted, once again echoing all around me. The report of deaths and injuries of unknown to me people persisted, all of which were being uttered by different voices, some in English; some in other languages, all of which were mixed in with the painful moans, groans and yells. It's as if whatever experience a person went through in this place was permanently echoing all around it and that constant thumping noise that resembled a heartbeat, all around you non-stop just thumping away.

The only way that helped me get distracted from the cacophony of noise and the rotten smell was the fact that all of a sudden my darling began urging me to go in a specific direction. Out of that cacophony she managed to catch something... familiar to her and whatever it was seemed to fire up a passion within her that can only be rivaled by the passion for our mutual goal. Despite the unfamiliar reaction I listened to her, there was no good reason not to, she has never failed me before and besides, following her instinct was a move in some kind of direction at that point. The problem was that the pursuit of said direction required me to willingly walk into the fleshy mold that was covering the entirety of one of the walls, much too similar to the one I fell through earlier.

Upon approaching it I could notice the details I hadn't before, this fleshy mold seemed to pulsate along with the thumping noise that I could still hear, it looked like it was an organism of some sort which didn't increase my desire to dive head first into it again. But Fortissimo urged me on and so I did, repeating the nasty process all over again, but this time with some kind of awareness of how this disgusting place seemed to operate, crawling through the pulsating mold, enduring it's disgusting smell and claustrophobic pressure, eventually ending up on the stone floor of a different room covered in some kind of oily substance, disgusting doesn't even begin to describe the experience.

Getting my bearings I didn't even have to look around the room to see what was so intriguing that it peaked my darling's curiosity so much. Right in front of me, up against the opposite wall was a chained up figure, malnourished to a point that I could count every rib of its ribcage, it's hands chained to the wall, it's body covered in various burn marks and stitches, it's head completely enclosed in some kind of square, metal contraption with the only source of air being three holes on the front of said contraption. Right underneath the spot where the contraption locked up on it's neck was a very huge amount of stitch work done, going around the entirety of the neck as if it was the only thing that was keeping the head attached to the rest of the body. In between it's ribs various glass tubes were sticking out filled with all sorts of unknown liquids.

The figure was mumbling random nothings to itself, clearly indicating that whoever this used to be, is far since gone. Still I could not understand my darlings fascination with this broken figure, it is this lack of understanding that led me to get closer to the figure and as I did, I could discern it's frantic mumbles: "100... Human... Farewells... End... Cured... Alone..." None of it made sense at first, just seemingly random words, until a name was dropped "Sergei..." And all of a sudden things began to click in their place.

Pop quiz, does anyone have any idea what happened to my past self's body after Sergei killed my past self off? Because up until this point, I had no idea either, but as it turns out it was snatched up by The Plague Doctor for some unknown reason and it was now sitting in front of me, mumbling some kind of unknown gibberish to itself, clearly after it was thoroughly fucked with. Instantly this explained my darling's fascination with this husk, after all her and my past self did share a strong bond between each other, this wasn't mere fascination, this was compassion. But another revelation began to creep up in the back of my head, this was what Jack wanted to be retrieved, my past self offered his servitude to Jack but never completed his end of the bargain because he got killed off by Sergei, I guess Jack never managed to let go of that. All of these revelations were coming at me from all sorts of directions whilst I was trying to process the fact that I was currently staring not only at my past self, but also at essentially my originator for it was thanks to his bond with my darling that I came into existence, the original Kelevra.

My presence didn't seem to mean anything to him, he continued to mumble away, on occasion his voice becoming more frantic and panicked. As I stared at him I could feel Fortissimo's pity practically radiating throughout our body, this was after all the man that showed her the beauty of our goal, granting her autonomy from our Tall and Faceless Friend, every part of her wanted to end his current, cursed existence, to free him of the suffering inflicted upon him by The Plagued One. Within that lied the inner conflict between us, we couldn't kill him because we needed to give him to Jack so he would get off our backs, but I'd be lying if I said that I was completely detached from the situation. My feelings were the complete opposite of my darling's towards this lowly, weak husk, was it because said husk himself implanted within me disgust towards weakness, or was it because it was my natural reaction to seeing someone who once was so pompous and ruthless, reduced to nothing more then a wet spot in this plagued hellhole, his mind long since shattered? That I can't answer, nor do I really want to, what's the point? The feeling was there whether it was mine or not didn't matter, what did matter was getting this wreck of a human to Jack an idea to which Fortissimo greatly objected, maintaining her position on just killing him off then and there.

An internal argument began, mercy or sacrifice, which one would it be? We've argued long and hard, but the point that seemed to allow her to come to terms with the possibility of giving away my past self to Jack, is that if the roles were reversed, this husk would not hesitate with such a decision if it would push him closer to his cause, eradication of existence, this was proven a plethora of times with the countless betrayals of those he referred to as friends. Both of us fell into silence, the only source of sound being my past self continuously mumbling delusional nothings to himself. Catching me off guard, a sharp appendage burst out of my jacket's shoulder and began to quickly come down onto the mumbling husk, for a split second I thought my darling had decided to take things into her own hands and grant the mercy kill, but luckily for us she seemed to listen to reason and the sharp appendage ended up severing the rusty chains that were holding the mumbling husk captive. She wasn't happy about it, nor was I to be completely honest, while I felt no sympathy towards my past self, I definitely wasn't enjoying playing the role of Jack's errand boy, a fact my darling made sure to constantly remind me of, that the old me would never even entertain the idea of serving anybody.

Petty squabbles aside, I grabbed the malnourished husk by his frail arm and began making my way towards the fleshy mold that I came through originally. The only problem being is that the before mentioned fleshy mold was reduced to nothing more than a dry black spot on the wall, effectively cutting off the exit that I was planning to use, if that wasn't enough the room began to fill up with some kind of gas. It was subtle at first, a slight tingle in the throat, a few nerve spasms, general stuffiness, luckily for me Fortissimo was quick to pick up on the fact that all of those reactions were due to the air changing around us. She immediately morphed a mask of sorts around my nose and mouth, which allowed her to filter out the polluted air, a trick she masterfully learned from our past run-in with Starboy and his own brand of laughing gas. My malnourished counterpart didn't seem effected at all, probably because he has been down here for God knows how long, what did have quite an effect on him was the whispered, hissing voice that seemed to speak with such weird inflections that I can barely qualify it as a speaking pattern.

"He thinks it's all his for the taking, doesn't he...?"

And that's how we ended up meeting the guard dog of the Crumbling Castle, Outbreak. Or as some of might know it by it's original handle, Nightscream.

But I will have to tell you about that at a later point in time, truth be told I'm not feeling too hot and the malnourished, mumbling husk started mumbling even louder, so I'm going to have to calm him down and catch some resting time before our meeting with Jack.