Dr. Flug Slys felt a bit like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Sure, he wasn't all that beautiful, but he was stuck in a strange abode with a frightening creature that could kill him in an instant and he had no chance of escape. His only comfort was the fact that he wasn't alone, although he'd probably prefer singing dinnerware to the insane hyper fangirl he shared his prison with. The Halloween she'd dressed up and insisted on singing a heavy metal version of "I'm a Little Teapot" just didn't do it for him.
5.0.5. was ok, though. Flug felt a bit guilty that he'd created this being and doomed him to a similar life of captivity and hardship, but he liked having him around. He was soft and gentle, which hadn't been the doctors intention but he was grateful to have him around nonetheless.
But hey, it wasn't all that bad. The doctor got to spend his days doing what he enjoyed, even if it was under the threat of annihilation, and in his rare moments of free time he was allowed to explore the Black Hat Manor to his heart's content. All except for the quarters of Black Hat himself, and Dr. Flug had no intentions of ever getting anywhere near that area of the house.
Which must exist outside the laws of space and time, since by Flug's calculations there was no physical way that all the rooms, corridors, and hallways he'd traversed over the years could exist inside the manor.
Or this humongous library. It was far bigger than anything inside the iron walls of the Black Hat Manor could possibly be.
But Flug didn't care to question it, since his boss, Black Hat, didn't like questions. And the library was his second favorite area within the walls of his prison, right after the laboratory he spent the majority of his waking hours in.
The library was at least four stories high, with various branching wings and sitting rooms to read in that Flug felt like he was in a literary heaven whenever he was inside. It was easy to get lost in, what with its expansive and seemingly never ending array of books and bookshelves that stretched towards the ceiling. According to Demencia there were even more books stacked up in the rafters, and she'd knocked a few down so Flug was inclined to believe her.
She was not allowed back in after she'd done that.
Flug had been known to occasionally get lost, either in the library wings or in a good book he'd found, and that typically prompted Black Hat to apparate in and throw him out when he'd been away from his work station for too long.
"You're not here to read, you're here to work!" He'd say, shattering the calm silence of the otherwise empty haven of books. "Keep this up and I'll close the library off!"
But there were other times, like when Flug had found something rather interesting, that Black Hat wouldn't throw him out immediately. Instead he'd appear behind Flug, scare him half to death, and go on to comment on the book he'd picked up.
It was...rather surreal.
"Ah, you've found that one." He said when Flug came across a text on medieval medicinal practices. Flug nearly jumped out of his very skin upon hearing the otherworldly timbre of his bosses voice suddenly in his ear.
"It's a good read, although I myself enjoy the diagrams and illustrations far more than the text. They're a bit inaccurate, as it's not a first hand account, but still enjoyable to go through. Many of those techniques were adapted into torture when it was realized that they did much more harm than good. They were very amusing to watch in person."
The dark-skinned being said all of this with a calm and serene expression of complete ease on his face, as if they were discussing a work of fiction rather than a medical journal detailing horrendous medical malpractices. Flug knew he wasn't human, how could he be, but it was still unsettling to hear him describe torture so casually.
"Put it back when you're done, Doctor." He said as he turned to leave. "Remember, nothing in this library is ever to leave it."
Ah yes, Rule #3.
Black Hat didn't much mind Flug being in the library, as long as he didn't overstay his welcome and get behind on his work. Black Hat laid out three simple rules the first time he'd caught Flug wandering around. Flug was free to come in and read when he could as long as he observed them.
Never for any reason bring in food or drinks.
Do not damage the books in anyway by writing in them or mishandling them.
Never attempt to take anything out of the library.
Black Hat made sure to constantly remind him about the third rule in particular. Flug supposed Black Hat already knew Flug wouldn't do something like bring food into the library or mistreat a book, but taking one out was admittedly something Flug was tempted to do every now and again.
Like when he found those old aviation texts.
Seriously, they were like something out of da Vinci's journals! Except even more fantastical, with sketch after sketch detailing complex machinery just barely rooted in the known laws of aviation. Scrambled notes only just legible but from what Flug could make out they seemed somewhat plausible.
They were clearly done by an inspired soul, and Flug had wanted nothing more than to take them to the laboratory and see if he couldn't build something that could actually take to the skies.
"I do hope you're not thinking of taking that with you." Said a threatening voice from behind him.
"Sir!" He shrieked, almost dropping the books. "N-no! Of course not! W-w-well actually sir, if I may, I think I could actually put a few of these into practice. The designs are s-sound, from what I can tell, and could lend themselves to be improve on by modern innovation. So if you would allow me to borrow it-"
"Doctor, I thought I had made myself clear." Black Hat said, bringing his terrifying face closer to the doctors as he spoke. "You may enter the library, you may browse to your heart's delight, but you may take nothing. This isn't a public library and there will be no borrowing from it's collection."
He picked the meek scientist up by his shirt collar.
"Do you understand?"
"Y-yes jefecito."
Dr. Flug was unceremoniously released. And found himself laid out on the cold laboratory floor.
"Good."
Black Hat turned to walk away, but exiting he said over his shoulder, "If you're so intrigued, take a notebook with you next time."
"Yes sir." Flug said, rising up on shaky legs.
Flug was tempted to take out books again, more technical manuscripts or the odd fantasy story, but he never did and he certainly never asked to. He already knew what the answer would be.
So on the occasion he found something he felt he could put to use in his creations, he whipped out a notepad and copied down whatever seemed the most useful.
Today, he was browsing. The library had some semblance of organization, but the shelves were not labelled nor catalogued. The phrase "organized chaos" came to mind. Flug mainly skimmed the titles and found they had a similar theme, although there seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to where anything was in relation to each other. One section maybe historical texts on Europe, the next may contain encyclopedias on infectious diseases, and the one after that was on the various classifications of winged insects. Then you went across the room and found a book on the paintbrushes used during the Renaissance. Not the Renaissance itself or it's paintings, just the brushes.
Why did Black Hat even have these?
Dr. Flug liked to think that Black Hat just collected every book he'd ever come across and put them all in here without actually paying attention to what they were about. Even with the eons he'd been alive, how could he read all of these books?
And as Flug flipped through a rather large and heavy book about the care and feeding of some creature called a leviathan, he wondered why he would want to. Black Hat didn't seem like the type to keep pets. Regardless of whatever that thing in the sub-sub-basement was.
Dr. Flug lost track of how long he spent roaming the winding labyrinthian rows of shelves and lush armchairs, but Black Hat hadn't kicked him out yet so he assumed he still had time.
Actually, Flug wasn't sure he'd ever been in this section of the library before. The books were absolutely coated in multiple layers of thick dust and spiderwebs, which was unusual because Black Hat insisted on maintaining a spotless household. It was one of the reasons 5.0.5. was allowed to stay, along with the small matter of being indestructible. 5.0.5. would dust and clean the manor, and Demencia had stolen a French maid outfit that actually fit him pretty well. It was one less thing for Black Hat to do himself, and the bear did it without having to be told, so he stayed.
So why then, had this secluded corner of literary treasures been left to rot?
Flug came to a realization with a start, this actually WAS a corner. It had always seemed like the library extended off in the eternal distance, like it was a sea of stories without end, and yet he swore he could see an actual corner in the distance through the fog of cobwebs.
Flug let loose heavy coughs, trying to get the thick dust out of his lungs. He ran a finger over one of the chairs and found his rubber gloved finger now coated in dark grey ash-like dust. Ugh, it was hard to breathe under this bag with all the dust bunnies in the air. Every footstep launched more and more up into his breathing space.
But he wanted to go further. See what was over here that was so old even the eternal Black Hat had forgotten about it.
Skimming the spines, he couldn't read any titles. Dusting them off only aggravated his lungs further, and the writing didn't seem to be in any language he had ever seen before. The pages were also very old and crumbling, when he opened the books they let out a puff of dust and almost fell apart.
But that corner was coming more into focus, and it was the first sign of this place actually having borders and not just a wall stretching into nothingness he'd ever seen, so he continued. He walked at an even pace coughing and wheezing until he finally came upon the place where two walls met.
Even more mysterious, Dr. Flug came across a chest tucked away in the corner. It was hidden by old decaying armchairs and a moth-eaten cloth but Flug picked it out immediately because of just how out of place it was. He'd never came across chests in here before. Were there more books inside? Ancient tombs of dark magic and supernatural power?
Was he even allowed to touch it?
He probably wasn't, but Black Hat hadn't popped up out of thin air to scream at him so he figured that as long as he didn't damage anything he'd get off with a warning.
With some difficulty, he dragged the heavy chest out from its hiding spot and gave it a good once-over with that ragged old cloth it had been under. It looked ancient, and it's hinges were overcome with rust. So much so that Flug thought that even the slightest pressure might break them.
As was it's padlock. The lock that kept whatever was inside hidden. It was rusted. Extremely rusted. So much so that even Flug could probably break it with his slightest touch. And open it. The chest could probably be opened with ease.
This is something in Black Hat's library. Meaning it belongs to Black Hat. The sane part of his mind whispered. Meaning that you shouldn't be touching it. Under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
But still, Black Hat wasn't here…
Oh God, Demencia must be rubbing off on him. Flug just couldn't resist the lure of something that the great and fearsome Black Hat had locked away to be forgotten by time.
He was also correct, the padlock fell into pieces the second he took it in his hands. The lock was rusted and opened with a loud *CRACK*. The hinges remained fixed in place, making a horrid creaking noise as he lift the heavy lid of the chest. The noise shot through the silence like a firework and made Dr. Flug wince in mild discomfort.
The contents of the chest were still intact, by some miracle. Perhaps being locked away had shielded them from the erosion of the eons. There wasn't much in there aside from a few thin albums and rolled up parchment.
The parchment was cracking at the edges and seemed frail, so Flug gently pushed them to the side, not wanting to risk them crumbling apart in his hands. Whatever these were, he was sure Black Hat would get pissed if he messed them up.
Rule #2: Don't damage the books.
Flug wasn't going to take the chance. As far as he was concerned, they were books and he wasn't to damage them.
The albums had held up better than the scrolls had. Dr. Flug cautiously picked one up and brushed what little dust there was off the cover. There was something written on it, but it was in a language he didn't understand. Opening it, Flug was greeted by a photo of Black Hat posing on a destroyed battlefield, surrounded by broken swords and wearing a lucious red cape.
He'd seen that image before, he was sure. If he wasn't mistaken it was one of the paintings hanging up on the walls of the manor. It was also freaking HUGE.
Flug flipped the page and found more pictures, some looking like paintings he'd seen around the manor. Some he'd never seen before. But all of Black Hat amidst various scenes of death and destruction. There were even a handful that looked like old school photographs, although they'd faded a bit and weren't of the highest quality. Like the one of Black Hat with a curly mustache posing by a woman tied to train tracks.
Flug put the first one down and picked up another, this one containing more pictures of Black Hat. Although these were definitely ones he'd never seen before. Flug was sure he'd remember seeing a painting of Black Hat riding a flaming skeletal black...unicorn? Down the side of an erupting volcano. He had some sort of chalice in one of his hands, overflowing with some glowing blue liquid.
So, he'd stumbled across Black Hat's old photo albums? Not what he had been expecting…
As Flug flipped through more albums, the images got stranger and more bizarre. Fiery explosions among the vacant abyss, swirling blackness closing in on deformed humanoids, detached appendages frozen mid-death-twitch under familiar shoes. The only constant was Black Hat's face, ever present and usually facing the viewer with a wide grin showing off his sharp teeth. It gave Flug the creeps, like Black Hat himself was watching him.
And he was not even halfway through the albums.
Picking up another, he found the thinnest of the bunch. It also seemed to be in the poorest condition, perhaps older than the rest. It had that same indecipherable writing on the cover, so Flug assumed it would be even more photos.
He was right, but something seemed...different about these ones.
They were still of Black Hat, but he seemed...shorter? His limbs weren't as long, he wasn't smiling as wide, he just seemed all around smaller than he should've been. And it just got more noticeable with each turn of the pages. Black Hat still had his signature monocle and top hat but they seemed...bigger, somehow. Like he hadn't quite grown into them yet-
Oh...
Oh please...
Oh please tell him…
Please please please tell him he did not…
Tell him he did NOT just come across Black Hat's BABY PICTURES!
Oh no, oh nononononono that was just TOO GOOD. The all-powerful Black Hat, in his childhood! Flug tried to stifle a laugh from underneath his bag, but he couldn't help himself. The whole thing was just...bizarre. He'd always figured Black Hat was this eternal entity of evil, that had just sprung into creation along with the universe. He never knew that Black Hat had, well, grown up. It was weird saying it out loud, but Flug had never thought of Black Hat as a being that had been a child at any point. He had figured that Black Hat just kind of existed, and had looked the exact same as he did today for all time.
Oh Demencia was going to FREAK OUT when he told her! He'd have to sneak her in next time so she could see for herself.
Flug started praying that he came across a picture of Black Hat as a teenager with a face full of acne or something. Please, please tell him that Black Hat had awkward teen photos of himself stashed away somewhere.
Or photos of him as an ACTUAL baby. Oh that would be gold. Hey, if he had been a child at some point, maybe he had actually been born. Meaning he had been a baby at one point in his life. And hopefully he had photos of it hidden away. In this very album Flug was sifting through.
Flug couldn't stop himself, he gleefully flipped through the album faster, watching Black Hat get progressively younger and younger. C'mon baby, awkward teen years of Black Hat! Awkward teen Black Hat! Awkward teen Black Hat! If he could just see something along those lines, he could die a happy man!
And since Black Hat was probably gonna kill him for going through his things, he might as well die happily.
Flug didn't find any photos of teenage Black Hat. Or maybe he had, but Black Hat didn't have an "awkward" teen phase. Black Hat had one of those faces that was just ageless, so gauging his approximate stage in life was difficult. He was getting younger, or at least smaller, that was for sure.
Then Flug came across a photo he almost skipped right over. He almost didn't notice what was different about this photo compared to the rest. But when it hit him his hand froze. His brain stopped working. He lost his giddy and expectant smile (not that anyone would be able to tell really). He was frozen in place staring at the image.
There was Black Hat. The smallest form he'd seen him in. Small, childlike, his head nearly swallowed by his top hat. Wearing a red turtleneck and shorts and the most precious little boots ever. He was...pretty damn cute, in all honesty. A word Dr. Flug never expected to use in regards to BLACK HAT of all...people?
But instead of laughing, Dr. Flug was confused. Confused because Black Hat was not the only subject of the photo.
Right next to him was a boy who looked...almost exactly like Black Hat. A near perfect mirror image. The dark skin was only a few shades lighter, but he had the same face, the same height, the only difference was wardrobe. The other boy had on a white top hat instead of a black one, and was dressed in a light blue shirt with white overalls. And his boots had little white bows that matched his tie it was so cute! He even had on a monocle! Except the other boy had it on his right eye whereas Black Hat's was on his left.
But more importantly, WHO WAS THAT AND WHY DID HE LOOK SO MUCH LIKE BLACK HAT!?
Dr. Flug knew the answer, but his brain was refusing to process it at the moment.
Black Hat has a…
Black Hat is a…
Suddenly Dr. Flug felt himself fly across the room. He crashed headfirst into one of the monolithic bookshelves in one or the more used sections of the library and somehow he had still held onto the photo album in his hands.
Oh wow his head hurt. His vision was swimming and he felt like he might've gotten a concussion. He reached a hand under his bag to check if he was bleeding, relieved that he wasn't.
That relief was quickly crushed as Dr. Flug heard the rusted hinges of the chest grating back in the dirty unused area he'd found. It was followed by a sudden slam, what he assumed to be the chest being rather forcefully slammed shut.
Then Dr. Flug heard the footsteps.
The library floor was carpeted, making the footsteps of the other person rather muffled, but having no other noise made each step seem as loud as a church bell. The steps were not hurried nor frantic, they were even and deliberate, like someone taking a leisurely stroll through a beautiful park.
Dr. Flug felt his blood run cold as the footsteps grew closer and closer at their steady pace. Standing up made his headache worse, and he couldn't even make it to his feet without stumbling. Even if he could, it wasn't as if he could run away. He would find him. This was his house, after all.
Dr. Flug wondered if he should start begging for his life now. He was a sitting duck with no chance of escape and mercy wasn't something Black Hat was particularly known for so he was most likely going to die now. Maybe he'd buy himself a few extra minutes if he groveled particularly pathetically, but that was about all he could think of.
The top-hatted multi-million villain came into focus from the dusty abyss. His face was the absolute image of unbridled rage. His visible eye was glowing a faint red, only managing to barely keep himself restrained from setting the entire place on fire.
He didn't stop as he approached Dr. Flug. He didn't even so much as slow down. Dr. Flug huddled against the bookshelf and tried to stutter out an apology, but before he could get a single syllable out he was swifty kicked in the gut. It knocked the wind out of him and he slumped against Black Hat's foot. Black Hat then drew his foot back and began rapidly kicking the doctor over and over and over again. Each blow somehow harder than the last.
When that no longer satisfied him, he summoned his cane out of the shadows and mercilessly bludgeoned Dr. Flug with it. The doctor curled in on himself to protect his head from the blunt of the blows, but Black Hat didn't stop. Didn't let up. Didn't pause at Flug's cries for forgiveness or his pleas for his boss to let him explain. The bag tore and the goggles broke. Black Hat didn't stop.
He didn't stop until Dr. Flug was a trembling, bloody mess on the library floor.
His breathing was labored, his arms were littered in bruises and he might've had a few broken fingers. His legs were much the same, although it didn't feel as if anything had been broken. The bones might've been bruised. His torso felt like a few of his internal organs might've ruptured. He could've been bleeding internally. His gut felt like was about to burst open and collapse in on itself. His head was definitely bleeding now, Dr. Flug could feel the blood seeping from his cracked open head.
And yet, he was not dead. Not even unconscious. Why?
Black Hat's grabbed Dr. Flug by the neck, his sharp talons digging into the flesh and threatening to rip his throat apart. Dr. Flug couldn't breath. He was already too weak to struggle. This seemed to be it.
"Flug." Black Hat said through clenched teeth. "Do you have the faintest idea what you stumbled across?"
Dr. Flug couldn't really speak, on account of his hoarse throat from all the screaming and begging and the sharp talons around his throat. He tried to shake his head, to communicate that he really didn't know why Black Hat was this enraged.
The world was spinning again and when Dr. Flug finally got his bearings he realized he was back in the laboratory. He was tossed against the nearest wall and fell limp on the floor instantly. Everything hurt, he was in so much pain. So much pain. Why wasn't he dead? If Black Hat was this man, why not just kill him?
He could hear Black Hat's voice but couldn't make out any actual words. He could hear the blood pounding in his head and it threatened to thrash his brain all over again. 5.0.5. came in at some point, picked him up as gently as the creature was able, and patched him up as best he knew how. Luckily he'd watched Dr. Flug attend to his wounds before, so he had some idea of what to do.
It was a few hours before Dr. Flug was fully lucid. His arms were bandaged up to the shoulders, one of his legs was it a cast, and his hands had ice packs wrapped around them. He couldn't really feel them at all. He didn't even want to know what his head was like, because it felt like he'd stuck it in a trash compactor. At least 5.0.5. had gotten a new bag for him. He owed the fluffy thing a treat for what a good job he did.
Then Demencia walked in, as carefree as ever.
"Hey Loser!" She said. "What did you do this time?"
"Mmmm," Flug groaned. Her voice was even more grating than usual. And did she have to call him "loser" right now? Could she not see he was in pain?
"Aw c'mon, the boss didn't even kill you! He sure was pissed though. He said to tell you that you aren't allowed in the library anymore. So, what'd you do? Did you find Black Hat's secret stash of porn in there or something?"
"PFFFFT- HA!" Dr. Flug let loose something between a raspberry and a laugh. It hurt to do, his ribs might've been broken and needed more work that 5.0.5. had been able to provide.
He croaked out, "No. That would've been almost as amazing as what I did find."
Demencia gasped. "What could be better than Black Hat's fapping material!?"
Oh God he didn't want to think about Black Hat doing that. Or what could possible qualify as erotic material for a demon. Or why Demencia was interested in it. He shuddered to think about the what's and why's of this train of thought.
"I found out Black Hat is a twin." He said.