Gambler's Ruin [Remastered]

Pt3 : Mugman's Torment

Mugman woke up and groaned. He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but his hand passed right through his skull.

"What the."

Then he remembered what happened. The sheer feeling of helplessness as his mind was ripped from his body. He looked at his hands. They were transparent blue.

"Aaaagh!" he screamed and frantically looked around. He was in some glass jar in the middle of a wooden table in a pitch black room, the only light coming from himself. He reached out and touched the greasy walls of the jar, running his ghostly hands along them feeling no sensation from it.

"CUPHEAD!" he yelled "CHALICE, ANYONE!"

At that moment a puff of sparks and smoke sprouted from the dark floor of the room and from that appeared the devil, smiling devilishly. He seemed to be much taller than usual, with Mugman only being the size of his hand.

The sparks from his dramatic entrance lit torches on each wall of the room lighting it up

"Did you call me," the devil said, picking his nails

"Of all the people in the world you were the last person that i'd want to see." Mugman replied ,"I see you've made yourself taller, I didn't know you needed to feel superior that badly."

"I'm not the one taller. You're just small pathetic and stuck in a jar ," the devil explained, rapping loudly on the walls of the jar ,"enjoying your stay here in the after life."

"I won't be for long," Mugman said snarkily ,"me and my friends will find a way to get out of here."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Mugman," the devil said, ,"in these ancient rooms i have complete control over your soul."

Mugman looked around the room and, with the new light from the torches, he could make out inscriptions and carving of ghosts and unspeakable beings coating the wall.

To demonstrate, the devil stuck out his hand and moved his finger side to side. This slammed Mugman against the walls of the container repeatedly.

"I can put a hole through you."

The devil pointed a finger gun at Mugman and mouthed the word "pew". A hole materialised in mugman's chest.

"And I can make you eternally itchy."

The devil waved his finger at Mugman once more and his entire body was immediately alight with awful itch.

Mugman immediately reached to scratch the itch but his hands passed right through his body. Mugman tried to rub himself against the glass but still got no sensation from it.

The devil snapped his finger and the torture stopped.

"We'll stop you," Mugmans shouted ,still vaillant ,"someone will, they have to."

"Well if you want out your gonna have to do it yourself," the devil said ,"because, let's all be honest, no one likes a stickler."

Mugman looked up at the devil quizzically.

"You go about warning and warning your poor brother and that chalice, "don't do that it's dangerous' ', "don't do that you'll hurt yourself". Tiresome don't you think? sound a little uppity to you? And maybe just a little USELESS!"

"I was keeping them safe!" Mugman yelled back shakily, "i..."

"And look where you got them!" the devil yelled back picking up the jar and bringing it close to his face, "you and your complaining changed NOTHING. If these cups ever escaped you think they'd ever come back just to save the pollutant of their lives. The useless scum that does nothing but taint the joy of life and does nothing to prolong it."

Mugman opened his mouth to say something. A retort, a comeback, one final word to show his defiance but nothing arose, his mind's ideas washed out by the flood of emotion.

"I bid you farewell my mug," the devil said, back to his jolly old self . and with that he disappeared in another puff of smoke.

***

"And that'sh everything," Stickler snivelled.

Kettle took in a deep breath and hardened his determination. He held his head high and marched up the stairs and stood in front of the cabinet covered in all his war memorabilia

He picked up his helmet and machete, placing his helmet on his head and slotting his knife into a sheath in his belt. He then put on his green military jacket and looked up at the mirror mounted to the wall and standing to attention.

"Ok kettle, up until now you've been fighting for your country. Now you will be fighting for your family."

He marched downstairs and saw Stickler standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"I have one final shing to do for you," he sniffled holding up his empty hands ,"this ere is the invisible sweater that protects the wearer from the devil through the power of brotherly love."

"Aw that's sweet," kettle said ,taking the sweater ,"i swear by the calix animi that i will tell no one about your fraud."

With that, kettele marched out of the door, fixed on saving his cups.