I wonder what that was, the creature wondered as it sat in the dark of the chamber. It had taken a little time to probe the memories of the man known as Mister Flowers, formerly Robert Haggart, but admittedly most of that time had been spent enjoying his many memories of eating. Consequently it had been unprepared for the weapon that had been used against it and it had cost it the puppet body. The creature growled loud and low in the perfect darkness of the chamber, consoling itself with another handful of Flowers' innards. It licks its gaunt lips with an inhumanly long tongue, savoring the flavor. In its experience each human had a unique taste, colored by a unique lifetime, and it enjoyed sampling this dish particularly. Next time, the creature thought. Its thoughts drifted to the man that had resisted its attempts to possess him and those thoughts made it angry. It slashed at Flowers' abdomen with cracked claws, venting some of its frustration into the desecrated body. Next time, it would be more direct.

"The air smells fresher here," Stan said hopefully, breathing deeply and hoping that it wasn't just his building apprehension playing tricks on him. Mister Hatchet gave a noncommittal grunt as they continued down yet another side passage. "Don't you think so?" Stan voice was tinged with nervousness.

"I think," Hatchet spoke without turning around, "that we're running out of time." Stan swallowed at the ominous comment.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Hatchet sighed loudly, stopping to turn around and face Stan, "I just have a bad feeling, alright?"

"In my line of work, it pays to trust your gut," Stan shrugged.

"So what does your gut tell you then?" Hatchet rubbed his forehead tiredly with one hand.

"It tells me we've been going uphill," Stan smiled as Hatchet perked up. "Watch," Stan spat at his feet and slowly, very slowly, the droplet of liquid flowed back the way they had come from. The angle was so slight that it could have been missed entirely but it was definitely there.

"Well I'll be damned," Hatchet's face screwed up into a sneer but Stan could tell that it was his own version of a relieved smile.

"Don't jinx it," Stan flashed his best con man smile, "Up doesn't necessarily mean out...but it is a start." They continued on in silence for a while, neither one wanting to make any more noise than necessary as even the smallest sounds echoed down the dark tunnels with almost supernatural loudness. The thing that had trapped them was still out there somewhere and they had no desire to bring it down on them. Unfortunately, it found them.

"Wait," Stan heard it first, holding out a hand to stop Hatchet. He strained to hear out into the darkness around the duo and their meagre light. The silence was deafening and for a moment Stan was convinced he had imagined it. Then he heard it again. It was the loud scraping thud that had shadowed them through the mountains. It began faintly at first but it slowly built up until the noise filled the narrow tunnel.

"Run," Hatchet said taking off at a speed that surprised Stan. He chased after just as quickly, he hadn't survived so long in his business by being slow after all.

They took off down the tunnel in what Stan believed was the opposite direction of the sound, thought it was getting harder and harder to tell as the sound built up around them. They had been running for a minute or so when Hatchet's flashlight revealed that the tunnel ended abruptly ahead of them. He skidded to a stop, sliding along the rough stone of the ground and crashing into the rough hewn wall directly in front of him. Stan was a few feet behind Hatchet when a loud bang sounded and the tunnel shook violently as it if would come crashing down around them. In the chaos of the moment something unexpected happened. Stan tripped.

He pitched forward, his feet leaving the ground so that he was totally horizontal and flying through the air. The tunnel behind him collapsed and fragments of sharp stone came crashing down around him, cutting his clothes and biting painfully into his skin beneath. Stan screamed as he flew through the air, his hands reaching forward in vain trying to brace himself for the landing and as he flew the tunnel collapsed completely but miraculously he had made it out of the way of the debris. Ha! was the only thought discernable in Stan's head as he realised that the crashing stone would land behind him rather than on him.

"Stan!" Hatchet spun around, breathless, with his hands flat against the wall behind him. There wasn't enough time to reach up and catch Stan and he knew it. His screaming face did its best to imitate an apologetic look as Stan closed the last foot between them and the two collided.

Stan threw his hands up to protect his face as they connected. The force of the blow sending Hatchet backwards into the rough stone wall and Stan's hands up against Hatchet's chest. What the... Stan's panic stricken mind thought as his hands felt something distinctly soft on Hatchet's bony chest. Somethings. He came to a sudden stop as he too hit the wall and he fell against the ground on top of Hatchet. His head was ringing from their landing and his whole body felt shaken but he forced his head up so that he was face to face with the diminutive hitman. His eyes went wide as he looked at Hatchet's horrified face.

"Hatchet," Stan croaked out, "you're a…"

Hatchet eyes were wide with shock and that expression was the last thing Stan saw before her bony fist connected with the side of Stan's head and everything went black.

To be continued…

Author's Notes:

Ha! Bet you weren't expecting that one. Or maybe you were…? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter :D this was one of the other scenes that I had knocking around in my head for a while so I hope the reveal turned out to be as funny as I had intended!

So what did you think? How was the chapter? I really appreciate the feedback from you, especially on a scene like this. It's really difficult to tell if something is surprising or funny when you're writing it so having some feedback is really helpful!

See you next time!