In the deep darkness of a room, of a house uncharted on the map of Chicago. A whimper can be heard. So high pitch, it had to be a woman to be able to make a sound such as it.
But when a wandering friend, using a flashlight to guid within the sightless area. Listening to the sounds, hoping to hear them to grow louder and louder.
"Nostalgia Critic, are you there?"
The whimper only grew.
"Nostalgia Critic!" The other shouted, rushing over to the fallen body. "What happen to you?"
Dropping the light, letting it role away from them and casting shadows of missform demons of the humans it landed on.
"It happen."
"What?"
"If I tell my rejected Nostalgia clone, it might become real than it has already."
"What, brother, what?" He asked, not going to comment about his rudeness.
"I can't."
"Come on, let's get the power back on. You've been in the dark for little to long."
Nostaligia only nodded to his older brother's, letting his elder guid to him to a safe place.
Once finding Nostalgia Critic a place to sit, his brother, the Elder Critic went to find the fuse-box and switch the lights back on. Not trying to take in the weird, uncaring, coldness rush over his body as he moved about the house, glad to remember the light in time to bring along.
When finally finding the fuses, turning and flipping them back to their places. Light once more brighten the house.
Along with a sudden scream, girly and powerful.
"Critic?" He called out, waiting. Nothing happen, and called out again.
Quick stepping back to where he left Nostalgia Critic, who was found out of his chair, on his butt. Eyes wide in fear. One hand kept him from falling all the way back on his back and the other pointing the wall.
The wall where all of his life work came to be.
"It's back."
His brother's eyes glance from him to the wall. Words written in red, not blood from the smell, jam or cherry sauce maybe. Bolded that left no room for joking. That uneasy feeling came once more, sending warnings through their brains, that this danger will never leave, and forever be imprinted deep in the mind of nostalgia life.
BAT CREDIT CARD IS HERE TO STAY, BITCHES
The End.