Showtime (A Sanscest Story)

The Final Call

It was after Fell heard the first soft hiss of the liquid seeping into his room that he realized no one was coming. He sat on the bed, pulling his legs up and sitting crisscross. The bed was elevated above the ground, so he had a little time. He'd used what little liquid had already seeped into the room to get his chains and cuffs off. He could only imagine what it would feel like, based on what it had done to the metal and the other animals. He sighed, facing forward. "Heh." He had to laugh. The OTHER animals? Implying he was an animal himself? He supposed it wasn't too far off, especially with what he'd become.

He sighed quietly, running his hands over the sheets of his bed, his bony fingers catching on the shredded edges. Really? No one was going to come get him? No one at all? In a way, he was hurt, but he understood. "Too dangerous." He murmured, remembering how he'd been referred to by the Ringmaster. Speaking of which, the liquid gave off his aura. Terrifying, cold and ominous. Unforgiving. He heard more sizzling as it began to eat away at his fridge and furniture. "Guess that's it then." He mumbled quietly.

If he wanted to get it over with, he supposed he could just topple himself off the bed. He picked at the torn fabric of his blankets. He wished he, at least, knew what was going on. He could only stare straight ahead into darkness as he heard the liquid giving a faint staticky sound around his small room. It smelled as well. But it could only be described as rain and cold. Fell furrowed his brow. Smelled just like the Ringmaster. He twitched and screwed his eyes shut as his spine rippled, spiking up for a moment through his shirt.

He forced his transformation down. If this was how it ended, he wanted to go out as himself. Not a mindless, crazed beast. The liquid was rising. Fell had no idea how he knew, but he could just tell. It was like he was even more hypersensitive than usual. Was it because of the situation? He gave another hefty sigh. He wished he could've at least said bye to everyone. No, instead he would just be swallowed up without a trace. They didn't even get anything to remember him by.

The feeling in the room changed. It switched all at once from impending dread to immediate danger and Fell knew exactly why. "Ringmaster." He said in his gravelly voice. "Seem to be havin' a rough day, huh?" There was no answer, but Fell heard something bubble. That was fine. He hadn't expected an answer anyway.

He kept his head down to signal he was docile. Well, that he was docile and that he was ready for what he was sure the other was there to do. "This is all your doing, ain't it?" Fell asked quietly. "M'assuming you're REALLY upset about something if you're willing to throw all of this away." Normally, it would be a death sentence to say things like that so freely to the Ringmaster, but as far as Fell was concerned, his time was up anyway. There was still no answer besides the faintest hint of breath from across the room.

At least Fell could be assured he wasn't just talking to nothing. He may have had lost his sight a long time ago, but he could almost perfectly imagine the Ringmaster standing there, eye glowing and tentacles sharpened to points. He raised his unseeing eyes to where he was sure the other was standing. "So this is it?" He scoffed and leaned back on his hands. "I got a question for ya." The air in the room seemed to become even more suffocating. "Do you think... even the worst person can change? That everyone could be a good person if they just try?"

The words rolled so easily off his tongue, it was like he'd said them a million times before, but he couldn't quite recall. He heard another breath, this time much closer, but not quite in front of him yet. "I believe that. May be pretty fucking stupid of me, but I believe it." He turned his head back towards the ground. "Always have." There was still no answer. Nothing but the faint static of the inching liquid. Nightmare would kill him without saying a goddamn thing, wouldn't he? He wouldn't keep his mouth shut now. "I think you can change too."

That seemed to make the room go silent. "Yeah, shocking, ain't it? I'm a nihilist, pessimistic in every regard, but I can't help but think the worst of us can change. And, I mean this in the nicest way possible, Ringmaster... but you are the worst of us." He'd signed off on his death certificate and he knew it. He could tell from the moment the feeling in the room shifted. Angry. It was angry. But there was something else. The Ringmaster radiated anger, but he also radiated pain. So much pain. The final breath was right in front of him. "I'm ready when you are." Fell said quietly.

The touch was so light, he barely felt it. A bony fingertip against his forehead and a spark of magic. The world flickered once, twice. Fell winced back as his vision came flooding in, bright red eyelights spinning to life in his formerly empty sockets. At first, he didn't know how to process it before looking up. Was... that the Ringmaster?? It was the silhouette of him, sure, but his socket was lit up fully cyan and a stream of the same colored tears spilled down like a waterfall. His tentacles seemed to be limp, webbed into the liquid beneath him. It was like someone had cut him out with scissors from the world itself.

Fell blinked before taking in all the damage. The bottom half of the door was gone. His fridge was as well. The desk behind Nightmare was beginning to sink. Fell turned his gaze back to the other. "Let me guess? Gave me my sight so I could see what this stuff does to me? Have me watch myself get eaten away? It's what it's looking like." The Ringmaster only continued to stare. At least, Fell assumed he was looking at him. He tucked himself into a neater crisscross position as he ducked his head. He was a little annoyed at how long the Ringmaster was taking. "Just get it over with, okay, Boss?"

That word was familiar as well. It made him shiver and it seemed to affect Nightmare too, the silhouette giving the tiniest shake. He began to reach out, but seemed to pause as Fell scoffed and lifted his head just a little to take him in. "Not even gonna thank me for my time?" Nightmare continued to stare and Fell nodded, chuckling and ducking his head back down. "Figures." He closed his eyes and he could tell the moment Nightmare was about to touch him because he heard it.

The faint rustling of wings. He felt fingertips against his forehead and all at once, blinding pain was seeping though his body, his marrow seeming to eat him from the inside out. Fell tipped his head back and he wasn't sure how loud he screamed, but he could feel it transform into the guttural roar he was sure the others were so much more used to hearing by now. The darkness was creeping into his vision again and all he could see was that glowing cyan socket fixed apathetically on him.

He heard the slice before he felt it. Quick and precise. He had never been more grateful in his life and he was never going to be again. He collapsed back against the bed, eyes wide and lit up, but once again unseeing. Fell couldn't feel the pain anymore. He couldn't feel anything anymore and it took the last bit of strength he had to close his eyes.

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Reaper hadn't felt shaken like this since he'd had to collect Horror. He pulled his scythe back and watched as Fell's body began to crack from each of the painfully bright joints before collapsing into dust. There was a plain white SOUL in the middle, faint red veins around the edges. He summoned it from inside the dust, pulling it over to him as he settled at the top of the bed, standing. He gave Nightmare an unreadable look before turning to the faintly pulsing SOUL in his palm with a softened, glowing blue ring in one of his sockets.

"Thank you for your time." Reaper told it. The soul pulsed again before going dark, finally seeming appeased. Reaper's hand shook before he closed his fingers around it, crushing it. He was sure after millenniums of reaping, he would be numb to it, but there were still some deaths that got to him. Horror and Fell's deaths were no exception. And the one who caused it all...

Reaper turned his gaze to the silhouette, who'd turned away from him. "How does it feel, Ringmaster? To lose it all? To have everything you suppressed bubbling up at once?" The silhouette paused and Reaper continued to stare. "It's not fun, is it? This could have been prevented. I think you know it could've been as well. How this ends for you is unclear to me, but it all depends on your actions." The silhouette seemed to give a strangled sigh before disappearing down into the liquid, the cyan glow being swallowed.

Reaper sighed. "You reap what you sow, Ringmaster." He murmured, wanting to laugh at the pun. He couldn't bring himself to. Not right now. He knew what had to happen. It wasn't time yet. Neither of the two were in the correct mindset to meet again. Until they were, all any of them could do was wait.