(Fun fact: I was half-asleep when I wrote this chapter, I’m quite certain it’s evident throughout)
Pushing a door open with her foot, The Twin carried Horse-Face’s companion into a rather unique room.
Twelve pedestals sat empty within, with six on either side of her. She briefly looked at all of them before continuing on.
The Twin then reached another door, which led to a series of small, connected rooms. She walked through the first six empty rooms quickly.
“So do you think there’ll be a chance to reverse the crystallization in the past?” Amelia asked her sister while inspecting the currently inactive time portal.
Amara just stood behind her with her arms crossed. “The Time Traveler only did it as a last resort, I think. Unless he’s left documents telling us what to do in the case of this, then I don’t know for sure.
“I’ll bet that it’ll reverse once they return though. And if it doesn’t, well…Hope they can get used to another era.”
(No, this has nothing to do with that dreadful Spider-Man comic arc)
The Twin’s next destination was to her sister’s room, a place she never wished to set foot into again. She swallowed and pressed on, however, her personal grievances meaning nothing in the grand scheme of things.
She knew she was going in the right direction, by the powerful smells of menthol and booze, and the scent of blood. By the time she reached the door leading to the room, she had to pinch her nose shut.
As always, the room was a mess. Numerous weapons and partially eaten body parts littered the floor and tables inside. The bed was messy, and showed clear signs that it hadn’t been washed in quite some time.
(Warning! Brief allusions to incest and rape!)
Once The Twin stepped cautiously out of the hidden passage, she found herself in the room with the jail cells. The only sound that could be heard was that of her footprints approaching one of the cells.
After she opened the cell door, The Twin walked over to the two dolls still in their chairs. Julian was still propped up in his, but Samira had fallen over onto the table.
Though they were stuffed dolls now, and incapable of feeling pain, The Twin still tried to be careful with picking them up. Continue Reading
Shark didn’t know how to react at what he just heard. The man before him had some resemblance to him, but not entirely.
The supposed other Shark wore glasses, and had a different hairstyle. He wore a more formal attire, and had a five o’clock shadow growing on his face. He also looked rather sad, and defeated.
What stood out the most to Shark, however, was the bruising on his neck, indicating something terrible happened.
Before everyone now on the stage, while all of them were stunned into silence, stood The Builder in a completely different attire than before.
Now, she wore neither her usual shirt and shorts, nor the bandages from earlier. This time, she was wearing an elaborate black dress. The wrapping covering her eye sockets was clean, as if she’d just changed it. On her neck was her heliotrope brooch.
“What, are we being subjected to a low-budget adaptation of Amadeus or something?” Marc said in bewilderment.
Within seconds after explaining what happened to Shark, Annette found herself grabbed by the neck, and lifted off the floor.
“What do you mean, that twiggy little freak got him?!” Sinbad was probably as mad as he was going to get. She could feel the spit flying from his mouth as he yelled directly into her face.
“I tried to help him, but-” Annette was forcibly interrupted as she was roughly dropped to the floor. “The Builder possessed him, and took him away!”
“All right, you steroid-abusing sack of meat,” The Builder told a now very much entranced Shark as she led him to her room and sat him down to the floor, “repeat after me:”
Clearing her throat, she began the first line. “Vivat Regina Malum.” With a bit of a slur, Shark mimicked her speech. She said it again, with the same result.
“That’s a good boy! Okay, next line: Malum vincit omnia…”
(Warning! Implications of suicide!)
Although the tangible, undeniable proof was right there in front of her, Annette still couldn’t believe what she was looking at. The sight was so incredible, it led to her dropping the hunting knife.
“No way…” Was all she could whisper. The Builder tilted their head, and raised an eyebrow. They seemed rather amused at her bewildered reaction.
“Oh, come on! It ain’t that shocking! You see them all the time!” They said before grabbing hold of Annette’s wrists, and pulling her closer to them. Continue Reading
“Come on now, Ox-Head,” The Builder said while tapping their knife under the corpse’s chin, “No need to look so cross.”
They then proceeded to laugh uproariously at their own terrible pun. They didn’t remember how long Annette had been gone. Time had no place in their domain.
After some more guffawing, The Builder was then blighted from a sharp pang of hurting in their body. Immediately, their hands went to the offending area.