A/N: To start off, this fic is being co-written by my partner and me. This was mostly to be a fun idea to poke at; nothing was really intended to be published. But after working further on this story, developing the ideas, organizing the cause and effect events, a whole mess of 'what if's, along with a need to make something needlessly dark, this fic has been brought to you by my partner and myself.
While I agree with you all that there are more than a few 'no such luck AU' stories, after watching the episode for ourselves, and loving the Loud House series, we felt the need to throw an idea out there too. On this fic, keep in mind, as written earlier in the AN, this fic is gonna get dark, and gruesome, to the best of our writing ability. (With some light-hearted moments, here and there.) Now then, before setting you off on this trip, please do have an open mind as we've mixed in some elements from other Medias. See if you can spot 'em. Some will be small one-time cameos, others will be crucial to the story. Do enjoy the read.
On nights so calm, peaceful, and quiet, one would think all would be in deep slumber. However, in Royals Woods, one particular individual stirs, not within the confines of his habitation, but rather, curled up by the back entrance of his family's home. From a simple innocent lie leading to coincidental circumstances, the sole male sibling of the Loud House had been forced to sleep outside for superstitions lacking common sense and morality. Even when the superstition was proven false, used for a momentary act of self-interest, the ashen-haired boy was still barred from his home. At first, he felt annoyance, at both himself and his family. Himself; for purposely feeding on to the idea that his presence alone brought bad luck. And to his family; whom so easily bought into the idea, remained stubborn with the idea even when told the truth of his actions. Although, even when treated such as one would a house dog, he felt no great resentment towards his family. Sure, there was anger and hurt, but these were fleeting. Unlike his sisters, he didn't hold grudges or take anything too far. Of course, many would say that was a flaw Lincoln had.
Regardless, as he lay on the door step of the backyard, he lay with a smile on his lips, for he had come up with a plan to break the idea of him being bad luck to his family. His sister's game was the following day, and he had planned out everything he needed to prove his own rumor false. Although, even with his agenda set, a nudging thought came to mind; why was his family, in particular his sisters, so quick and easy to place blame on him while also dealing out harsher out lashes. He didn't think too much of it before, so why now was he pondering this thought? The more he thought of it, he quickly realized he wasn't exactly seen in a positive light by his peers either. And yet, for some reason, he held no grudge or resentment for those he held close even when they too had lashed at him for his misdeeds. Granted, he knew well he was deserving of some back lash for his schemes, but on more than one occasion he felt they might've gone too far.
These thoughts plagued his mind as he tried, time and time this night to fall into slumber. What was he to do? He had hoped to speak to one of his sisters, but neither would go near him, much less allow him to be in the house. His best friend was surely asleep, so no help would come from a half-asleep friend. With no one to hear him speak his mind, to help understand why it was that he felt all those ill sentiments now when he so easily brushed them off before; Lincoln lay on the door step, awake.
There are many unspoken rules that apply to all who inhabit this world, many of which have been challenged, none ever proven otherwise. One clear rule, which few stubbornly refuse to accept; all things must change. And when that change occurs, another rule comes into play; adapt. In order to survive in a constantly changing world, one must adapt. This lesson would come harshly to the Loud House as on this particular night, when all were supposed to be asleep, a mysterious scent caught the young boy's attention; one of sickly sweet aroma, intoxicating. Following the sudden flooding of his senses by this scent came an angelic voice, almost as if calling to him directly. The sound first came from the street, and so, while still in his pajamas, the boy followed. Upon reaching the street, he found it empty, and oddly enough, quiet. No dogs howling, no chirping from the critters of the night, none but the flowing wind carrying the scent ever down the street and the singing to entice him to follow. He knew not why he felt the urge to follow these anomalies, his body simple felt the need to act. His conscious all the while had attempted to stop himself, but at the moment, it was as if his body and his mind were disconnected. The walk was, oddly, too quiet, not a sight of a car or living being. While it was the middle of the night, he still felt like there would at least one passing car or bystander walking. Oddly enough, the walk led him to the edge of the forest; the thickets were of the same shade as that of nightshade. The angelic voice, now more clearly, called to him to enter. At this point, he was now in control of his body, but the warmth and safety he felt from had all but vanished. Without hesitation, he turned away and was about to run, that was, until he noticed a lone figure standing a few yards away from him.
In that moment, there was absolute silence, no scent or angelic voice. Only Lincoln and this unknown, whose figure was blanketed in the shade of the night, were present on the edge of the forest. The ashen-haired boy chose to walk to the side and avoid this unknown, who had said and done nothing for a bit. That is, until he had begun walking parallel to him. He could hear their footsteps, bare feet upon the pavement, like him. He spared a faint glance, cautious as he could be, a nearby lamp post shone a bit of light on the unknown. What caught Lincoln's eye, and baffled him as he did not notice sooner, the unknown appeared to be without clothing of any kind. Skin as light as the color grey could reach, and the anatomy resembling that of a normal human. But, that wasn't what was cause for concern; it was the fact that this unknown's face, upon being partially lit, had no facial features. None whatsoever; no eyes, mouth, nose, not even a sliver of hair to be seen. A mannequin. That's what he saw, and yet, the manner in which they moved was not that of plastic. Perhaps, a skintight suit? Thinking this to be some prank, like those he had seen online, he paid little mind to it, although he had to admit; it did disturb him. If this was some sort of prank, he could see the footage being in some compilation, and his sisters taunting him over it.
And again, he felt it; anger. Why?
Before being able to think on it further, he took another absent-minded glance towards the mannequin, only to discover it gone. He stopped, turning towards the street from which he originated; no one. As if the person seemed to have vanished. Well, he didn't show much reaction to his prank so Lincoln assumed the guy left.
How wrong he was.
As soon as he turned forward again, he was now a mere few inches face to face with the mannequin. He had yelped, jumping backwards whilst clutching his chest from the sudden surprise. He stared at where this unknown would presumably have eyes, neither made a sound nor moved. For a few seconds that is, for once Lincoln felt his heart rate calmed, it climbed ever so uncomfortably slow as the unknown took heavy steps, its legs moved as if being weighed down. Once only close enough, Lincoln could've sworn he heard a clicking sound. His heart began pounding fast enough that he began sweating; this prank was getting to be a bit much. But then, these kinds of videos were only popular because of how dedicated the guys were.
Of course, Lincoln was in no mood to indulge these people. He wasn't as tired as he was to begin with, but he wasn't exactly comfortable at the moment. "U-um…haha, real scary…can I go now?" He spoke meekly, hoping he'd be able to avoid further confrontation. That was the intention after all, these were just pranksters, people who pull off pranks on random folk, like killer clowns are ghosts in parks. That's all it was…wasn't it?
The only response to Lincoln's question was more of the clicking sound, the unknown leaning toward him, tilting its head to the right. What occurred next would forever be engraved in the boy's head as, as if perfectly symmetrical, a black line appeared down the middle of its face. In one swift motion, it opened, similarly to a mouth. Razor sharp teeth lined in two rows vertical to the 'mouth' opening. That did it, seeing that forced the young boy to turn and run towards the forest. As he did, he heard a growl come from behind him; he turned and saw the creature chasing after him, though, it did so in the same way a dog would its toy. It didn't grab him or bite him, it merely chased him around, appearing to simply want to scare and tire him out. He assumed this to be another part of the prank; his heart began pounding even harder as he ran deeper into the forest. Luckily, he had grown accustomed to the jagged formation of the Royal Woods forests after being forced by his sister Lynn to run it as an obstacle course. In the dark, though, with the adrenaline rush, and running for a good few minutes his eyes had accustomed to the night. Not entirely, but enough to help him keep going. Most of the run was jumping over and sliding under large branches. After a good five minute run, he turned around, believing he had lost his pursuer, only to pale as he could see the light grey creature jump from branch to branch in the same manner a wild cat springing from branch to branch, steadily closing the distance between them. While his attention was focused on his pursuer, Lincoln brushed against a tree, slightly losing his balance and scrapping against another branch, creating a noticeable gash across his left arm. Feeling the stinging pain, Lincoln had slowed down; hoping whatever was chasing him would see his wound and leave him be. Again, his intended outcome was not given; instead the unknown seemed more determined to get a hold of him. It's mouth had opened again, its teeth bared for all to see, and a hungrily growl that sent shivers up the boy's spine as he continued his run, albeit slower with an injured limb. Now staggering, and on the constant move, the boy had failed to notice a log in front of him, tripping and falling unto the forest floor.
The sounds of the creature growing ever closer drove Lincoln to pick himself off and continue running, though now with scrapped knees and his arm gash, he didn't think he'd get very far. And for once that night; he was right. Without warning, something thin and sharp had pierced his shoulder right from behind, lifting him high into the air as he screamed in pain. Whatever held him up, shook him and just as quickly threw him against a tree. Lincoln's body flopped around like a rage doll, blood oozing from both wounds. His blood soaked the forest grounds; he tried getting up, only to be pinned down by something piercing his right shoulder. Again, he screamed, but all of it was in vain. No one would be around to hear him; he had run too deep into the thickets. There was no one to save him, none to come to his aid. He had kept his eyes shut, believing this all to be a dream, he kept his eyes shut hoping he'd soon wake up. But the constant clicking sound, followed by the soft growling and heavy exhaled breathing on his head, Lincoln was shivering. He dared to look up, his eyes widened as he could see the creature with its right arm having seemingly replaced with a long spear-like limb, embedded in his shoulder. Its left arm shifting to a similar shape, through a process of which greatly disturbed the boy as he could hear the bones and skins breaking and reforming into its intended shape. It was here that the boy realized, this wasn't a dream, he was going to die in the forest, at the hands of something he didn't even know what to call. His life, albeit short, passed before his eyes. In last hitched attempt, he called out again for help, screaming at the top of his lungs. But none answered his call. None could hear him, and none would ever find him.
He didn't want to die like this, but what could he do? Excruciating pain kept him from trying to resist, and the creature atop him seemed more interested in toying with him before finishing him off. He looked around, hastily looking for anything to help him. And there it was; something white and sharpened lying beside a pile of what appeared to be a skull. He reached out, hoping to grasp the sharpened object, only to have his arm his hand pinned with the creature's pincer digging into his flesh. He let out another painful cry, tears rolled endlessly down his cheeks. More so when he felt something slim, warm, and slimy caressing his wounds. hesitantly, he looked down, his breath hitched as he realized what was occurring; creature appeared to have a rather long tongue, and it seemed to be using it to savor Lincoln's blood. He felt himself grow sick and weary as time went on. In a stroke of good fortune, the creature had removed its pincer from his palm and savored the droplets from the tip. All the while unaware of the boy reaching for the sharpened bone. Once grabbing hold, he didn't think twice before turning back, albeit painfully, and slashing the creature's chest. It had backed away from the attack, but not fast enough. Lincoln had managed to break from its grasp, or so he thought. Once the creature withered back, shrieking in pain, its left arm reformed back into an arm. Once Lincoln had risen to his feet, he turned around in an attempt to stand his ground, only for him to feel something pierce his stomach. The creature acted fast, losing all intent for play, and instead went straight for the kill. Though, upon looking down, the creature began shivering, it removed its hand quickly, leaving Lincoln's body to fall to its knees as he struggled for breath. He looked down to his wound, noticing that he no longer held the sharpened bone. For in its charge, he had embedded it in the creature's side, and in turn, their blood, in that short instance, had mixed. Its deep blackish crimson blood had mixed with his own, and to his horror, the blood began moving about, as if it had a mind of its own. It swiveled around in his, and in an instance, as if turning back a clock; Lincoln's wounds had closed with the blood returning within his body. His veins began showing all over his body, his body twisting itself in every kind of unimaginable way, and each time he bled, he screamed, he cried, and momentarily; he was silent. And this repeated, for who knows how long. But his body, oddly, regenerated every time. It continued doing so until he finally saw his world fading. And the pain, it faded too. He felt all pain wash away, every worry drained from his mind.
-Nearby-
From afar, two pair of eyes watched the entire struggle go down, from the moment the boy had passed, to the moment he returned. They watched as the creature that had once hunted him, turn tail and run, rightfully so. From the moment the creature's wretched blood mixed with his, to the reaction his body had with the mixture. The two kept their distance, neither had any intent of approaching this boy. Not yet at least, patience was crucial. The outcome of this little accident could go three ways, and the two held their breaths for two of the three options.
"What will be done?" The female observer asked, her eyes glued to the body below, twisting around, as if itching to tear itself apart.
"Nothing yet, boss'll wanna hear about this. If he lives…lucky us, right, sugar?" The second, a male, taunted in a sultry tone. With the little lighting from the moon, little could be seen of these individuals, other than the sole feature they shared; ashen white hair and pale grey skin. The female kept a somber expression as the shrieks of the boy died down, and instead, ever so slowly, a growl began to arise from his twisted body.
Nothing. That's all Lincoln could see; nothing. No sound, no sight, not even the feeling of having a vessel. He was there, but at the same time, he wasn't. He couldn't remember what drove him to this state, it had only been a second ago, or was it an hour since he passed out. But, he was at peace, calm. Or was he? What exactly was he feeling? Could he feel anything at all? He didn't know, but he was here, and that was all he knew. Seeing the opportunity to reflect in peace, Lincoln recounted all of his memories to himself, even some he had suppressed. Twas an odd thing, to recount a memory of oneself in their infancy. He could see, from his point of view, his family giving him the utmost attention, particularly, two of his sisters; Luna and Leni. And odd thing, to consider Leni, the ditzy blonde was mostly in her own little world, never really reaching out unless it came to mind. For hours, maybe days they were, Lincoln watched his whole life play out. And through it all, there was no sentiment, no regret, no hatred, joy, fear. There was absolutely nothing tethering him to his family. But why? He didn't hate his family, he loved them. Even when they were needlessly excessive, which was often mind you.
He felt…nothing. Was this…death? Did he die? He continued watching his life play before his mind, the images of him near the forest, the creature that attacked him; it all began making sense now. With the injuries he took, of course he would've died. That was easily cleared up. But then, what exactly killed him? It toyed with him for the better part of the night, so why did it all of a sudden decide to run? On that note, why did it run from him the second their bloods mixed? All these questions would never get an answer, and as it stood, he just didn't care anymore. Once his vision had faded again to nothing, he readied himself for his eternity, alone in this abyss. That is, until a spark lit before him. Another spark lit, followed by a third a final spark, this time bursting into a large flame. And in that moment, he felt warmth. Lincoln was flooded with his senses once again, all that he once thought lost, were now his once again.
"Rekindled…"
He heard a voice, feminine, but in a way, similar to his. Odd as it was, it comforted him to hear her speak. This voice was soothing in its tone, and yet, he couldn't help but hear an almost faint echo when she spoke.
"…the old light will never be, for the new brings with it our breed."
And with that, a light flashes before him, blinding Lincoln, until a painful ringing in his head awoke him. Slowly, and as he regained the sensation of movement and fatigue, his eyes opened ever so cautiously. The bright light of the sun kept his vision to a minimum. By instinct, he used his right hand as a shield to block the sun's rays. Groggily, he arose, his eyes slowly adjusting, and his vision of the area around him normalizing. For a moment, his nose twitched, he smelt something…savory. His stomach growled, loudly, as he began looking around to wherever that intoxicating aroma was originating from. What snapped his eyes wide open was the sight of a half-eaten forest creature laid before him. He couldn't tell what it was; a doe or buck, but he could slightly identify the corpse by the antlers and the dismembered hooves. What bothered him was the lack of disgust or irritation for this scenery, but rather, from this bloody mess was where the enticing aroma was originating from. He held his palms to his mouth, attempting to block any further sliver of saliva from oozing out of his mouth.
It was then that he noticed his palms to be sticky, hesitantly glancing down, his eyes widened at the sight of dried blood on his fingers. In his horror, he arose too quickly, stepping and cracking something beneath his feat. Glancing around, his vision was greeted with the sight of a variety of bones, and rotting limbs. He was confused, immensely so. Last he remembered, he was at the mercy of a strange beast, and yet here he stood, surrounded in a graveyard of forest animals. Was the creature responsible for this? No. If it was, wouldn't he also be dead?
A thought occurred, one that greatly worried the ashen-haired boy; did he do this? How could he? He had no memory of it. If that was the case, then who did this? Checking himself after remembering the squabble he had with the creature, he failed to find any of the wounds he had sustained. It was as if he wasn't hurt at all. Although, his pajamas had seen better days. They were ripped, soaked in dirt, grime, and blood. As slowly as he could, Lincoln walked over to the sound of a running stream. Sure enough, he had found a steady stream of water. Without thinking twice, he washed his hands, the icy cold river water felt refreshing against his skin. Any and every sight of blood and dirt on his skin he cleared away. Upon glancing at his own reflection, he was startled to find that his skin had dimmed to the same color as his gothic sibling, and on further inspection, he found what looked like a black smudge on the corner of his right eye's sclera. For a moment, he began to process what he had awoken to, and he couldn't for the life of him explain what was going on. Nor could he begin to describe how he felt being covered in the gory remains of the wildlife. The sounds of the bushes nearby startled him, but also brought out an odd trait he never displayed; his ears twitched, as did his nose, his body was reacting accordingly to its surroundings. Both picked up a vaguely familiar scent nearby, but when he made an attempt to approach the bush, he heard a twig snap from behind him, almost intentionally. This one had a scent he did not recognize, but upon turning in the direction he noticed an odd sight; a clean pair of blue jeans, white socks, his actual shoes, clean underwear, an orange shirt, and a black hoodie. All of which were his size, which didn't surprise him since they were his to begin with. How did he know? He could smell his scent off them…letting that bit of information sink in, Lincoln disposed of his pajamas and quickly clothed himself and…he didn't know which way to go.
Luckily for him, he caught wind of another scent; burning charcoal. He walked towards the scent, taking his time as he could feel himself slowly accustoming to moving his body. It took a good forty-five minutes, but he was soon within flooded with a variety of sounds; car engines, sounds of children screaming and laughing. He approached cautiously, thinking he'd be wandering into some random location, Lincoln stuck to the shadow of the thickets, albeit not as expertly as his younger sister, Lucy.
'Ungrateful'
His head snapped quickly to the side, then behind him. But, there was nothing. He heard that voice again, the feminine one. And yet, it wasn't soothing, but rather the tone felt similar to that of his gothic sister. Thinking it was his imagination, Lincoln searched around for any sign to tell him where he was, and sure enough, he caught eye of a familiar sight; a billboard near the entrance to the forest, welcoming campers to the grounds. He had seen it before; when his family took camping trips. Establishing where he was enticed him to move out of the forest, but something in him begged for his hoodie to be of use; basically to hide himself. Ignoring this odd plea, he emerged from the thickets, catching the eye of a few. He said nothing, nor did he pay much attention to the. Instead, he walked past them, as if they were nothing to him. Of course, with the occasional glances, he noticed a few folks with their cellphones in hand. Once he had left the camp grounds, he made his way home.
Thinking back on it; he wondered how it was that he walked all the way from his home to the edge of the forest. It was almost as if he was under hypnosis. Lincoln, for that moment, chuckled lightly at himself for making that assumption. But, that faint laughter felt dry as he remembered what happened to him. It felt real, too real, all of it. And it had to have happened, why else would he have suddenly woken up in the forest. As he walked past another neighborhood street, he noticed a paper stapled against a telephone pole. For curiosity's sake, he approached it to see whose pet had gone missing.
To his shock, he recognized the face all too well; it was the same kid he had gotten into a little fight with over for some brand of cereal. The kid had gotten missing since…looking closer, he realized it was a few days before Lynn's last game.
'Abuser'
Again, heard the voice, and yet, it came from no one. He took one last look at the poster before moving along, not noticing, with a gust of wind, flew by another missing poster, this one for Lincoln. As he walked calmly towards his family home, the ashen-haired boy couldn't help but feel as if there were eyes on him. He had felt that way since the forest, but after awakening, he felt his sense much more sensitive to the world around him. And as such, he not only sensed their presence, but he also caught their scent at times. While he couldn't identify the one, he could most certainly remember the one other. Although, he still couldn't put a name on it.
Finally, after walking for almost an hour, the ashen boy arrived home. However, he took quick notice of the lack of Vanzilla, his family's vehicle. Maybe this was a stroke of good luck; he didn't exactly want to deal with his family right now. Another stroke of luck, the key beneath the mat was still there, allowing him to simply walk in. Once inside, he took in the sight, as if he hadn't seen his home in years. Gazing towards the living room, he noticed a stack of papers in the living room. Before getting a chance to see what the contents of the papers were about, Lincoln felt his stomach growl. Chuckling lightly to himself, he walked into the kitchen to look for a small snack. He opened the fridge and found a pudding cup, the last one apparently.
'Sorry, Lola.' He thought to himself as he grabbed the small treat. As he was to indulge, he took the first spoonful, and almost immediately; he gagged. For some strange reason, the taste of the pudding repulsed him, as he spat out the contents. Thinking the pudding was probably past expiration date, he instead made himself a small sandwich. And as he took the first bite, same with the pudding, he threw up the bits he had chewed and coughed loudly, as if he had been forced to down spoiled milk. Feeling slightly worried, he raided the fridge, trying everything he could get his hands on; vegetables, drinks, junk food, butter. Everything was rejected from his body, that is, until his nose twitched. He caught wind of a few slabs of raw meat thawing by the kitchen sink. His mouth had started salivating again, only this time, he made no attempt to stop himself. He caught hold of the slab, and with little hesitation, his eyes had rolled back, his normal teeth had sharpened into lined pikes, his mouth had widened as he proceeded to indulge himself. A wave of pleasure rippled through the boy's body, the sensation of raw meat, even when preserved, it was bliss to him.
After enjoying his meal, however, he quickly took notice of what he had done. A pang of shame and guilt took, but not for long. He heard Vanzilla pull u in the driveway, panic soon took over as he realized the mess he caused in his search for food. Without thinking straight and hearing the front door lock open, he quickly opened the vents and dove in. closing it just as his family entered. But, unlike any usual day, no one spoke. Instead they were all silent, they all kept their heads low as they made their way into the living room, some of the older sisters had papers in their hands. As they sat down, they placed their papers on the living room table.
"So…anyone hear anything?" The eldest of the siblings, Lori, asked her younger sisters. To which, they all shook their heads solemnly. "A week…he's been gone almost a week, and we literally have no clue or hint of where he is?"
Lincoln kept his ear open to the conversation going on below, whilst also figuring a way to sneak past them all.
"And you know something? This didn't have to happen if 'someone' wasn't so egotistic." Luna snarled at Lynn, receiving no reaction from her, not even a glare or scowl. Her stare was simply empty and emotionless. "What's wrong, sis, nothing to say? Sure had a lot to say to Lincoln when you banned him didn't you?" Again, Lynn remained quiet, unwilling to answer.
Before she spoke up again, Leni placed a hand on her sister, urging her to stop. "Please don't, sis. We can't be fighting each other when Linky needs us."
"GUYS!" Luan had burst through the door with her phone in hand. All eyes were on her as she had taken a quick second to catch her breath. "He's been seen!" At that instance, she was swarmed by her siblings, all of them asking the same thing; where? "Get this, dad got a call from one of his friends from work, he said he saw a white-haired boy walk out of the forest today. Like, he just casually walked right out and into the city." Without a moment more to waste, the girls rushed towards the door and towards the Royal Woods forest in the hopes of finding their brother, who, unbeknownst to them, was right over their heads the entire time.
Taking in what she said earlier, Lincoln couldn't understand how he had been gone for almost a whole week. What had he been doing in all that time? It didn't feel like that long, in fact, he had believed it to be an overnight thing. Once he was sure they were gone, he dropped from the vents and dusted himself off. He wondered why it was he decided to hide from his sisters instead of talking to them, though, before he could ponder the thought further, his nose twitched again, catching the scent of the same two individuals from the forest. Without waiting for an invitation, he ran towards the backyard, thinking he'd confront them there. What he didn't expect was when he opened the door; to be punched and knocked unconscious. As he lay on the floor, dazed and seconds from dozing off, he heard a clear voice over him.
"Don't worry, all will be explained soon, brother." And with that, Lincoln passed out. Three figures stood over the unconscious boy's body; the two from the forest, and a newcomer. The latter kneeled down and inspected the lad himself. He took only a moment before turning to his associates. "Are you sure it's only been a week?"
"Yes, he awoke early, but he has displayed all the normal symptoms so far. It's safe to say he's now one of us." The female voice commented, while gesturing her partner to haul Lincoln.
"And your target?" The newcomer asked, the question being for the two present.
"She got away, brother." The male answered.
"Disappointing…but we'll deal with that later. For now..." He gazed at Lincoln, his expression unchanging from neutral.
"Poor thing, doesn't even know what he's been pulled into." The male commented, looking over the unconscious Lincoln with pity.
When the two partners looked back to their associate, a shiver crawled up their spine as they saw a faint smile curl on their associate's lips. "Then, it is our responsibility to teach him, properly, what it means to be one of us. A Ghoul."
And done, wow, this fic is really fun, now that I think about it. Please keep an open mind, the story is barely starting and I'm hoping it'll at least be an enjoyable read. Anyway, yes, this story will revolve around Lincoln and his little transformation into a Ghoul. What is a Ghoul? (At least in this AU) Stay tuned and find out in the next coming chapters. Thank you for reading.