Disclaimer: I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog or anything so connected.
October thirty-first.
Dr. Horrible shuddered despite himself. The night of ghosts and spirits of evil. He should feel right at home.
But he didn't. Home is where the heart is, and despite what Captain Hammer may say, his home was with Penny, up above.
Above?
Nay, he thought. Surely not for him. He was evil. He knew the direction he was going.
Down, down, down.
Spiraling into the darkness.
He gathered his blood-red (ugh) lab coat around his legs and swooshed to his desk. There he picked up the clichéd photograph, faded as usual. Penny. So lively and bright. Full of happiness and hope. She was smiling despite the spots of blood on her chest slowly spreading their way across her-
No. He dropped the picture and distantly heard glass break into pieces. He paused, and, hand shaking, reached down and picked it up again.
Less the shards of its frame, it was clean.
He gave a shallow sigh of relief and put it back on his desk. He would deal with the mess later.
His footsteps crunched as he turned away from the room, about to walk out. He stopped. Listened.
"Penny!" he meant to yell but could only whisper as he spun around. He trotted back and grabbed the photo, holding it close as a dearly loved one, wishing for another whisper of her voice. He held still, eyes shut tightly, but slowly cracked them open. The picture fluttered back to the ground as he released it, staring at his old, cracked gloves now holding a piece of metal threateningly. He screamed and threw it away from him. A small moan was heard instead of a clank as it made contact with the hard floor.
"No," he murmured once more. "No." He bent down to his knees, hearing sobbing but not placing the sound's origin. "Penny." He brought his twitching hands to cover his eyes.
This couldn't be happening. He was Doctor Horrible, afraid of nothing. Penny was dead. And Captain Hammer-
Was in front of him.
He shouted, leaping back from the hero who was now standing directly ahead of him. Petrified beyond measure, he could only freeze as Hammer brought back his fist.
The punch came. But it went past his skin, past his ribs. Billy gasped as his organ crumbled under Hammer's strength. He writhed on the floor, in pain amidst Hammer's laughs. The last thing Billy saw before closing his eyes was a flash of red hair. Then all was black. And he understood.
XXX
Moist whistled cheerily as he opened the lair's door. Closing it behind him (and leaving a wet spot on the rusty doorknob), he set his bag on the floor. He looked in it at the fake cobwebs and spiders. Horrible'd get a kick out of this. He loved Halloween.
Moist went to his boss's office door and knocked- the Doc liked it when he knocked.
There was no answer, so he tried the knob. The door was unlocked.
Moist shook the bag of decorations enticingly for emphasis, calling out to get his attention. "Hey, Doc, I got some holiday stuff. You wanna freak out some kids?"
There was still no reply. With a shrug, Moist pulled open the door.
