Chapter 12
The shock of it all takes several minutes to absorb. During that window of time it takes for Sid to grimly ring for Officer Bradford while Erica cries and defends herself, plus the additional ten minutes it takes Bradford to arrive, Fred sits on the ground with his head bent, as though the weight of everything is barreling down on his shoulders as he tries to process the fact that Erica is indeed the person who has been sabotaging the concert this entire time. His friends are similarly solemn; Scooby has been whimpering off and on since Sid revealed the camera, Shaggy is so surprised that he has mentioned food only once or twice, and Velma has been uncharacteristically silent.
But the worst of them all is Jordie, who hasn't moved nor said a single word since Velma and Shaggy brought him a water bottle once he woke from fainting; in fact, he is still sitting on the grass, in the same exact spot where he crumpled only half an hour ago. His normally clean, immaculate hair is messy, and his clothes, which are usually wrinkle-free and crisp, look as though they haven't been washed in days. Concerned for his friend, it's Sid who has numbly taken over and spoken with Officer Bradford on the phone and informed him of what had happened once the intimidating police officer arrived on the scene, and Sid moves slowly and stiffly, as though he is trudging under water. Even Officer Bradford, who usually speaks icily and exudes an overall frosty demeanor, is silent and serious when he clamps the handcuffs around Erica's thin wrists and guides her towards his car while she begs and pleads with him to release her. As Fred watches Bradford try to reason quietly with Erica, the notion that it's ironic how Erica blamed Officer Bradford only a day ago jolts Fred like lightning, and for some reason it makes him feel guilty, as though he's been caught committing a crime. Blearily, he shakes the thought from his head; he isn't in the habit of feeling a shred of sympathy for the culprits that the gang expose, and even though Erica seems sweet, he has to start processing that she's the Goose Lake Monster, and that's the end of it now.
"But I swear, I didn't do it!" Erica shrieks out for the twentieth time as Officer Bradford efficiently helps her duck into the back of his cop car, the blue and red lights flickering across Goose Lake and highlighting the water. By now, the afternoon has yielded to the evening, and the sun-drenched day has gradually dimmed. Brushstrokes of oranges and pinks swirl in the horizon, and the sky looks shimmery. Normally, the gang might admire such a stunning sunset, but now the vivid scenery feels wrong, almost oppressive, contrasted against this most recent turn of events.
"For the last time, I swear I'm innocent! I don't even know how that got in my car!" Erica protests, her shoulders sagging as a sob escapes from her chest. Her eyes are smeared with eyeliner, and when she finally begins to cry openly, a stream of black make-up flows down her cheeks. Even though Fred has just reminded himself that he doesn't typically feel sympathy for the culprits in their mysteries, for some reason his heart clenches when he looks at Erica. There was something so genuine and authentic about her, and it hadn't even crossed his mind that she could be wrapped up in this case. Normally the motives in a case are always so loud and clear, but with this, Fred struggles to comprehend how and why she would want to interfere with her own father's dream concert.
"I think it actually makes perfect sense that it's you," Velma challenges Erica grimly. "You've been obsessed with all things 'Fraphne' since we got here, so the camera doesn't surprise me considering how you're such a huge fan. My theory is that you've been hoping to record Fred and Daphne's interactions, along with any other conversations we have as a group while we've worked to solve this mystery."
When Velma mentions the "Fraphne" nickname, it fizzes inside of Fred, bright as a sparkler, before it's extinguished just as quickly once he remembers that Daphne hates him, although he isn't exactly sure why at the moment; he supposes that will be the next mystery he will have to untie once things wrap up with Erica. Daphne has been noticeably absent ever since Sid revealed the camera, and no one has mentioned trying to find her since Velma mentioned that she saw Daphne sobbing and running away from everyone, presumably to be alone. Fred had considered seeking Daphne out to ensure she was okay, but he surmised that she didn't want anything to do with him at the moment based on how venomously Velma said his name earlier; perhaps a little distance was best for now.
"Like, yeah, and I'm sure you thought planting the camera would, like, help you stay ahead of us when we discussed clues and stuff, too!" Shaggy adds, placing his hands on his hips triumphantly; the conclusion of a mystery always caused Shaggy to shine a bit brighter and appear a bit lighter. He and Scooby always relished the final seconds of a scary mystery, looking forward to when it was time to hit the road and find new restaurants as they remained ghost free for a period of time.
Jordie, who has remained silent this entire time, finally releases a long exhale as he laboriously pulls himself off the ground and leans uneasily against Sid; his face is pale, devoid of any color, and his eyes are brimming with unshed tears. The wrinkles in his forehead appear deeper and more prominent than they did just yesterday, and the bags under his eyes look like dark rings; it's as though Jordie has aged about twenty years in just the last twenty minutes.
"Sweetheart, you know I love you, but what these kids are saying makes a lot of sense," Jordie laments, his voice fragile as glass. "You have been oddly obsessed with Fred and Daphne ever since they've arrived, and we've all heard you go on and on about their 'ship name.' I still don't understand why you undercut our own efforts to recreate this show, and I always thought you were equally excited as I was to see this revival, but I guess I have to accept the facts."
"But Dad," Erica's voice cracks as her eyes glaze with fresh tears, and before she can say anything more, Officer Bradford closes the door firmly. He pauses before he turns to face Jordie, and his face is emotionless, taut. Fred steels himself, fully expecting Bradford to spit another unnecessarily sarcastic remark at Jordie about how reckless and stupid it was to move forward with the show; he practically expects Bradford to start singing and gloating about how he was right and everyone else was wrong. But surprisingly, Bradford's shoulders slouch and his normally powerful baritone voice wobbles slightly as he says simply, "I'm sorry, Jordie – I really am. I know I kept discouraging you from the show because someone could get hurt, but I never expected it to hurt you and your family this much."
Jordie's face cracks into a forced smile, and Fred instantly feels guilty for ever assuming the culprit was Officer Bradford. A wave of mutual respect and understanding wash over the two men as Jordie merely nods at Bradford, speechless for the first time since the gang have arrived to Goose Lake.
"I'll have a permit drawn up to search Erica's phone for any footage connected to the camera," Bradford explains, his demeanor once again professional, reverting back to business. "If we find what we need to prove she's behind all of this, we'll let you know immediately. In the meantime, my partner and I will hold her and keep her for questioning. I'm going to try and pressure her into telling me that she's the monster, and hopefully she fills me in on everything so we don't have to keep you waiting. I'll keep you folks posted if there is any news."
"When do you think I could visit her?" Jordie asks timidly, and everyone's eyebrows hitch upward at the question; even Jordie flinches, surprised, as though he hadn't anticipated this coming from his own mouth.
"I think you'll be able to see her fairly soon," Bradford drawls. "It all depends on how smoothly everything goes from here. Again, I'll be in touch with any updates."
Jordie merely nods, too stunned to speak once more, and before Bradford tucks himself into the front seat of the car he glances back at Sid and Jordie, who are holding themselves up like two feeble old men who have endured so much hardship and who have lived for far too long, and he adds, "Needless to say, I would imagine this is the end of your Goose Lake Monster business. You should be fine to proceed with the show now. I'll have two of my men stationed on the perimeter to be of assistance for any rowdy fans. We'll reach out to you soon."
Bradford's words hang in the air as everyone remains frozen, and he waves once before sliding into the car and pulling away, the car moving stealthily and silently back to the station. As everyone watches Bradford and Erica retreat in the distance, no one says a word, and it's eerily quiet; it feels similar to those first few moments when the gang enter a haunted house or an abandoned building, and for some reason Fred feels his skin prickle with goosebumps.
Everyone is silent, as though no one wants to be the first person to speak and acknowledge what has happened; maybe then they can all pretend the last half hour never took place. Fred shakes his head groggily once again, trying to banish Erica's cries and pleas from his mind; for some reason, he feels haunted, even more so than he did when the Goose Lake Monster was actively attacking him and his friends. Finally, Sid exhales slowly, releasing all the tension knotted in his shoulders as he sighs, and asks the question bubbling in everyone's minds: "So, what's next, then?"
"I guess," Fred begins, but his voice sounds unsure, unconfident, "I guess we should plan what to do with the concert…"
"Yeah, like, that peachy Office Bradford guy just gave you guys his blessing," Shaggy snorts. "I guess there's, like, nothing stoppin' us, now!"
"And I guess if Erica was responsible for the camera, then like, the monster won't be back," Sid surmises. His words are heavy as lead, and the implication that Erica has been undermining the concert plunges everyone into an stifling silence again until Velma finally asserts:
"I don't know, gang. Something doesn't feel right."
"Like, what do you mean?" Shaggy asks, raising an eyebrow as he spins to face Velma.
"It doesn't really add up to me," Velma clarifies. "I mean, I'm willing to buy into the idea that Erica may have planted the camera because she's a super fan, but I'm not sure if there's a direct correlation with that and the monster. Plus, how do we connect that with the 'cords' cloth the monster dropped the other day? I'm not sure how that ties in with Erica."
"Like, maybe she did it to draw Fred and Daphne and the rest of the gang here for the mystery?" Sid speculates. "It's, like, totally possible she knew they would respond to the Goose Lake Monster and she took advantage of that to, like, meet them?"
"Well, Bradford did say he would interview Erica and get to the bottom of things, so maybe she'll explain it all while she's being questioned," Fred replies, and for some reason his skin prickles; is it because he's still frustrated with Velma's accusatory tone earlier and the fact that his life is now crumbling right before his eyes? Or maybe it's because this turn of events has him disoriented; usually the mysteries end with him crafting a trap or an elaborate chase scene and a dramatic unmasking, so this conclusion feels strangely anti-climactic.
"True, Bradford did say he would interrogate her," Velma acknowledges. "But I just don't feel right having so many unanswered questions right now."
"I agree with Velma," Jordie speaks up for the first time in minutes, and his voice sounds frail and weak, as though he is ill. "I know I'm biased because Erica is my daughter, but I know my girl, and I don't think she is the one behind all of this. Her and I are extremely close, and we have a lot of respect between each other, and I like to think she would have come to me before she would stoop that low."
"Right," Velma agrees. "As Daphne would say, call it my women's intuition, but something doesn't feel right."
At the mention of Daphne's name, Sid wonders aloud, "Hey, like, where is Daphne, anyway? And what are you guys going to do about the show, Fred?"
Fred gulps past the lump that suddenly strangles his throat. It doesn't feel right of him to answer without Daphne, but given what Velma said just a bit ago, things admittedly don't look so great for their performance; how are they supposed to sing and play together if she doesn't even want to be around Fred right now? Fred clears his throat and tries to keep his voice as steady as possible as he responds, "Actually, uh, I know it's safe to perform now, but, uh, I'm thinking Daphne would probably want me to say that – "
"We are definitely going forward with that show."
"DAPHNE!" Everyone choruses at once as they turn to face her. Fred's heart hammers against his ribcage as his eyes sweep over Daphne, who looks beautiful as ever in spite of the pink blotches on her cheeks, presumably caused from crying. There's a hardness about her that isn't usually there, and her eyes are dark and flat, devoid of the usual sparkle and light that always dances there. There is a hole inside of Fred's chest widening as he stares at her, and it aches as though he's been stabbed; he can't articulate or even guess what he's done to make her so upset, especially given that she is the one who (albeit, unknowingly) broke his heart, but he vows then and there to fix it and make everything all right again.
"We are definitely performing in that concert still," Daphne repeats, her eyes narrowed with determination and a blazing confidence that wasn't there just a second ago. "But if it isn't too much trouble, I'm going to ask if it's all right that we perform as two separate acts; I wouldn't want Fred to think it's a mistake if we were to perform together."
The way Daphne spits mistake out of her mouth, as though it's a bitter, sharp taste she can't stand to swallow, then follows it up by lobbing him a venomous glare, causes Fred to stumble backwards, reeling as though a boulder has been shoved against his shoulder. He's not sure which is worse: the fact that Daphne has essentially requested to break up their act, or the fact that something that sends a chill that splits down Fred's back at the word mistake. Something about it is unnervingly familiar.
"Daphne," Velma hisses through clenched teeth. "Are you sure that's a great idea? Are you sure you shouldn't, I don't know, talk to each other about it first like I've been saying all along?"
The phrase "if looks could kill" could almost certainly apply to Daphne then as she shot Velma a withering glare that could cause even the healthiest of plants to wilt.
"Ah, sure Daphne, that's fine," Jordie replies to Daphen's demands. It's evident that the passion he once had for this show has slowly melted, replaced with a casual indifference towards whatever happens now, and Fred understands it immensely; it's easy to see how Jordie is distracted with his daughter now in police custody after potentially being exposed as the Goose Lake Monster.
"It'll probably make more sense to split you into two acts anyway, to be honest." Jordie adds. "I guess we can advertise you as two separate acts and the fans can feel like they got their money's worth, which would have been harder with only one act. I suppose I'll go and make an announcement on our social media pages, but it'll take me awhile to figure that out; that was Erica's area of expertise. But I guess it's true what they say – 'the show must go on.'"
"Well, I guess the press will, like, eat that up once they hear Fraphne has broken up, huh?" Sid points out gravely.
Fred and Daphne both visibly flinch, and a lead fist balls itself in Fred's stomach; he wants to point out that in order for a break up to occur, there needed to be a relationship in the first place, but he's too tired and too drained and, above all else, too upset, every emotion buzzing and knocking around inside of him and flickering against his nerve-endings. In the end, no one responds to this Sid's remark, and Jordie begins moving slowly towards the Goose Lake offices, his movements jerky and rough, and Sid stares after him, concern burning in his eyes. "I'm, like, going to make sure he's okay," Sid apologizes to the gang before he slips away, calling for Jordie to wait up for him as he jogs to catch up to his friend.
That leaves the gang staring and blinking at each other, and the tension is so thick and palpable that Fred expects the air around them will burst into flames. But then Velma's eyes flicker between Fred and Daphne, and she looks at Shaggy and Scooby and says, "Come on, you two. I think we've all been telling these two they need to just talk already, and that time has finally arrived. At the very least, it appears they need some time to discuss their new setlist if they're intent on performing by themselves now."
Shaggy and Scooby simply nod and smile at Velma, and Fred can't help but feel as though the three of them are in on some inside joke to which he and Daphne aren't privy. He's about to ask Velma to clarify when she abruptly turns and moves towards the stage with Shaggy and Scooby, who both turn back to Fred and mouth that he should "seriously, just talk to her already!" one final time.
"Yeah," Fred grunts to himself. "Like that's going to help me at this point…" How would it help Fred to confess how he feels for Daphne if he already knows the inevitable outcome, which is her denying that she feels the same way and then being forced to endure the inevitable falling-out of their friendship?
As his friends retreat away from him, Fred faces Daphne, intent on finally acknowledging that he can't run from whatever is about to happen between them any longer; any attempt at deferring this moment is only straining him, and he feels distressed, like the end of a thin, frayed string. He opens his mouth, and he isn't totally sure of what's going to come out until he asks in an accusatory tone, "So, you really think splitting up our act is the wisest idea? I guess that means you never wanted to sing with me in the first place when we did Talent Star too then, huh?"
Fred instantly wishes he could kick himself for this scathing remark as he watches his words smack Daphne in the face, her eyes glazing over with more hurt and pain before she shakes her head, as if she can scatter Fred's words from her mind. By now the sun has completely dipped into the horizon, and the evening August air is steamy, thick with the tension crackling and snapping between the two. The only sound Fred hears for a long few seconds is the pulsing, rattling drone of unidentified bugs that are nestled in the woods nearby, the same kind of bugs that always screech at the end of a stifling summer afternoon, as if to vocalize their displeasure of the sweltering heat from earlier in the day. Somehow, Fred has a moment to fleetingly think to himself that the screaming insects are like an apt metaphor for how Fred has felt for this past week, ever since he and Daphne's kiss ended Talent Star and stoked this mounting tension between them.
"Oh please, I don't know why you're pinning this on me!" Daphne retorts, and Fred has to fight the impulse to crumple into a heap; this is the very first time he and Daphne have fought, and he feels like an overly inflated balloon, ready to burst at any second. "I only told Jordie we should do that because it's probably what you wanted; after all, I wouldn't want you to say it was a mistake for us to sing together again."
"There's that word again," Fred thinks, and the way Daphne has emphasized "mistake" catches Fred off guard, but only momentarily before he recovers, thankfully quick on his feet this time with a less decisive, more cohesive response.
"Why do you keep saying that word?" Fred asks, trying to temper his frustration so he doesn't continue to stoke this fire building rapidly between them. "I don't understand why you keep making a point of using that exact word around me. Now, I know I'm not the brightest guy, but I am a detective, and I do notice a pattern when I see one. And I'm not a mind reader, Daph, but Velma told me you were mad, and I haven't been able to figure it out since she told me. Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind already?!"
The double-meaning of his question gives Fred pause, and he knows the irony of it his question is so fucking obvious that it if it were written down on paper, it would be bolded and highlighted, glaringly obvious to anyone who could read. If Shaggy and Scooby were here, they would surely groan and throw their heads in their hands and beg Fred to finally be the one to tell Daphne what's on his mind about how he feels for her; he sees the flaw that exists with asking this, and he doesn't want to be a hypocrite, but he needs to know why Daphne hasn't been normal around him since they returned, because if it's this chilly between them now, he can't imagine how frigid it will be once she finally admits to his sorry ass that she doesn't have feelings for him.
"You are so dense," Daphne shakes her head, as though Fred is a toddler who has done something wrong and she is disappointed with him. "Do you really want to know what's wrong with me?"
"That's why I'm asking, yeah," Fred snaps back.
"I HEARD YOU TALKING TO ERICA!" Daphne practically screams, her face a mess of angry red splotches as she throws her hands up in the air in exasperation.
Fred pauses, momentarily thrown again, and blinks. It's very rare that his mind is completely blank; he is always thinking of traps and mysteries and his friends and food, and, well, Daphne, but this proclamation leaves him speechless and thoughtless. When he doesn't respond or react, Daphne shifts and responds, her voice a few octaves lower and now suddenly anxious, "I heard you talking with Erica earlier, okay? I know you guys were probably talking in secret, or whatever, but I was coming over to talk to you, and I, uh, I heard what you said to her."
All at once a million thoughts crash into Fred and he attempts to hone in on one, but they're all spinning and churning and flashing so quickly that he can't even focus on a single word. He's processing several sensations and emotions and reactions all at once: the evening Michigan air, which is still humid and damp, like a wet towel covering his face, Daphne's rapid breathing, as though she's just run a marathon, and the dull pain in his head as he attempts to recall the conversation he's had with Erica, accompanied with the panic that washes over him like a tidal wave when he remembers how he initially denied having feelings for Daphne, only to oscillate and pour his heart out to Erica at the last second.
"W-which part of our conversation did you hear?" Fred asks feebly, his skin icing over with goosebumps in spite of the humid summer night. In that agonizing second between when he asks and Daphne replies, Fred is struck numb with one horrifying thought; the exact moment that Daphne had eavesdropped on his discussion would most likely dictate whatever happened with their relationship for the rest of their lives, for better or worse.
Daphne sighs, bouncing from side to side anxiously, which Fred has noticed is a nervous tick she exudes whenever she's nervous or scared.
Nervous or scared. Of him? But why?
"I...I heard you tell Erica that our, uh, kiss was a mistake," Daphne admits begrudgingly, and her face instantly flushes; she looks as though she is going to break down and cry at any second. "And I also heard you tell her that, um, well, that we would never, well, you know…be together. Like that."
"Now seriously, Erica, I want you to stop bringing up the Fraphne nickname, because it really isn't ever happening."
"I guess…I guess we just got caught up in the moment…I guess…I guess it was a mistake."
"Daphne and I are just friends, and we'll only ever be friends, and that's it."
"Yup, it was nothing. All of it was just for show."
It's rattling around inside of his brain now and constricting his throat tighter and tighter now, every damn word he said to Erica. Everything has finally slotted into place neatly in Fred's mind, the same tidy way a mystery is tied up at the end of the day. It suddenly all makes sense to him now: the sharp, serrated edge to Daphne's voice, the emphasis on mistake, and above all, the jagged intake of breath he had heard not once, but twice, as he was speaking with Erica. He had attributed the noise to that of an animal, but it was Daphne, and it was because she was reacting to everything Fred was saying about how they would never be together. Daphne had heard what Fred said out of context, and obviously she had run away halfway through the conversation, before she could hear Fred reverse and admit that it was all a lie. It was a misunderstanding.
But if Daphne is upset about this, which clearly, she is, then what does that imply? Because Fred knows what he heard her saying to Velma, unless…
When it finally strikes him, the second realization hits Fred even harder than the first, nearly blowing him to the ground, as though a tidal wave has crashed into him and knocked him off his feet. If Daphne heard Fred speaking out of context, then it's entirely possible that he caught her conversation at the wrong time, too, and that could mean only one thing.
Something catches in Fred's throat – a sob? A laugh? The crushing irony that he and Daphne are both pissed at each other after a doubling misunderstanding? He knows he must look like an insane man right now, and judging from Daphne's furrowed forehead and the fresh tears that collect in her eyes, he knows she's thinking the same thing. And then he hears Shaggy and Scooby's voice reverberating in his head, insisting, "How many times do we have to say it?! JUST TALK TO HER ALREADY?!" There's still fear prickling in his veins, but it's replaced with this warm, light sensation that's filtering through his body and filling his fingers and his toes and his ribcage. He knows he shouldn't be letting his hopes rise like this, but he can't help it. The past week flashes through his mind: Daphne improvising their tie-breaker song with lyrics to "I love you," a song that he isn't so sure she just wrote on the fly for the moment. The kiss they shared on stage, which was warm and light and euphoric. Their tunnel song driving experience, and the look she gave Fred when he pulled over and that subsequent moment when he knew she was the most beautiful person he had ever met. The second kiss. The second kiss, which was more complicated, but just as earth-shattering.
How much of it was real? Some of it? All of it? Fred had feared that none of it was genuine for Daphne and that this whole experience and his feelings for her have been one-sided, but what if that hasn't been the case at all? What if Shaggy and Scooby were right, and this could have all been avoided by, well, just talking to her? Would Fred really be able to rectify all of the damage that had been done if he were to finally talk to Daphne, right here and right now? He's terrified; he's never been this terrified, even when chasing monsters and creepy men in masks, but he knows he has to ask her, or he's going to explode if he remains uncertain for one second longer.
"I-I just need to know," Fred begins slowly, and when he speaks, the color drains on Daphne's face. "How much of today, of this past week, was real? Because what happened in town earlier today- we kissed, Daphne. We kissed last week, too, and it actually happened, and I swear I didn't make it up in my mind." He whispers the last two sentences, his voice wobbling as he stares at Daphne, who is openly crying.
This is it; this is the moment he's been waiting for all week, although, truth be told, he's been waiting for this moment so much longer. Fred has wanted to know how Daphne has felt about him since ten minutes after he first met her, when he spotted her across campus at school and he actually ducked around the corner because he thought she was so beautiful and the thought of actually holding a conversation with her horrified him; he's wanted to know how she felt about him when she grabbed his hand during a mystery or when she's burrowed into his chest while they're hiding from a monster; he's wanted to know how she felt about him when they penned the lyric, "I can take all the changes knowing you're there," and he's wanted to know how she felt about him as they gazed at each other on stage during Talent Star. Fred has been waiting for this moment for so long, and he's both simultaneously elated and frightened now that this moment has arrived.
Daphne's mouth is gaping open and her eyes are wide; it's clear that she wasn't expecting Fred's question. He leans forward in anticipation, ready to hear whatever it is she has to say, when she finally, tearfully begins, "Freddy, I have to tell you something. I like – hey wait, what's that over there?"
Deflated, Fred turns to follow Daphne's finger, and it's only then that he notices the mist, crawling towards them from the stage and spreading over the grass as it envelops them, grey and thick. When he realizes that can imply only one thing, his mouth is coated in a sharp, metallic taste.
"But – but that can't be!" Fred stammers, his eyes wide as his jaw drops. "We caught Erica, so it should have been the end because she's the Goose Lake Monster!"
"What?!" Daphne blanches, whirling towards Fred. "What do you mean, Erica is the monster?! How is that even possible?"
Fred is temporarily confused until he remembers that Daphne had missed the drama with the camera reveal, but it doesn't matter now, because clearly he was wrong; they were all wrong. Erica wasn't the monster; she never was the monster, and now he and Daphne's moment has been crushingly destroyed, yet again, by another distraction. And worse yet, if they don't get out of there now, then there may never be another chance for them to have this moment again.
"We have to get out of here!" Fred yelps, reaching for Daphne's hand, and at the same moment he's startled by a piercing scream that jars him out of the sweet moment he was having with Daphne and into this new bitter moment with another monster attack. His head swivels around in all directions, trying to find the monster so he can plan an escape route, when he feels Daphne squeeze his hand and shriek, "Oh my God, look out!"
It's the last thing Fred hears before something heavy smashes into the back of his head, knocking him onto his feet and plummeting him into darkness.