The death list

Chapter 4

"Where are we..." the prepubescent inkling pondered. Right in front of him, stood a tall brick wall. Nothing was special about it, much like his shitty music. (He really was a special, special biscuit.) To both his left, right and behind, stood identical walls, the only glimpse of light he could see was from the sky above. To say the least, he was perplexed. More perplexed than when his teacher asked him to do his sums. More confused than when Tessa Brooks tried to educate him, without talking book. Even more than when she smelt good. Was that his boys cologne?  

To say the least, Jacob was  stupid, even for the species of musical.ly prepubescent fuckboy. His intellect was oft compared to savage, primitive creatures,  even by his own mother. Yet one must ponder, what is more primitive than a lip syncing turned un-talented pop star?

His lacking intellect led to many problems for Jacob. It oft hindered his ability to escape the mobs of his screaming fangirls, better yet, to do his sums at school. Or to distinguish when or when not the competition is shook.  Most importantly, it hindered his abilities to spell, punctuate, or even write, hence  the lyrical production of his ever worsening songs. His inability to 'English', in effect, led to  all to these subsequent events. If his music wasn't as bad, people would hate him slightly less. If people hated him slightly less, he wouldn't have been bullied. If he wasn't bullied/hated by a vast majority of humanity (excluding his 7-year old fans), people wouldn't send him hate letters. Hence, he would not have been caught in this predicament. Not have been caught by a satanic cult in the middle of the woods at the witching hour. Jacob's knowledge was even slimmer when it came to matters beyond his own world, for Jacob, merely was a muggle, and possessed no supernatural abilities. 

A wizard of extremely slim wit, even of some form of a beast, would be able to recognise where they were, or more so, what they were at. For in each direction, at each wall, stood a portal to another dimension, worlds far beyond our typical Earthly ones. Ones of advanced civilisations, of perplexing creatures and beasts, standing at feet's us humans wouldn't even be able to imagine for a few thousand years (if we happen to make it that far). Yet, like Jacob's stupid behaviour, he just so happened to trip on his own two feet and fall backwards. To the say the least, the portal got him like Tessa Brooke's has got em with her hooks.  He fell backwards towards a realm Draco hoped he never would have to see again. A world of farting green ogres, who compare their emotional vulnerability to the likes of onions, of crude-catchy catch-phrases, and whose original movie contains possibly the best song to be ever produced by man kind. This realm belonged to someone, who Draco hoped he would not have to see ever again.  

Though Draco had no desire to help the boy, he knew that his moral conscience could not deal with the possible harming of the boy. "We must go to save him, comrade Tinky Winky, for that is no place for a young inkling. It is what comrade Marx would have wanted. Even if the swamp is HIS city. "

"If 't be true and this is be the case, we must not but wend to this unforeseen realm."

And with that, Draco grabbed the arm of his comrade, taking a big leap of faith into the unknown. An unknown of great darkness, that began to increase in light as they were thrusted further and further along. They were flying like a drone, as they buyin like a loan.   As the fluorescent light became brighter and brighter, one could only hear a singular sound, better yet a phrase. 'Better out then in I always say.... Fiona'.

To my dedicated fanbase, thank you for being so patient with the updating of this brilliant piece of art. Shout out to Malcolm Turnbull, for being the real MVP