Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
She relaxed at her desk, a piece of literature flipped open before her. (No cookbooks this time around.) Yet, she only gave the words a fragment of her attention, the greater of the whole stuck firmly on the clock beside her.
It's almost time.
Her excitement rumbled like a bumblebee.
She glanced out her window, where the shadows roamed across the sky.
Get here already.
As her feet swayed back and forth, she lost herself in the fun to come, in the smiles that would blossom from her rotted teeth.
Maybe we can play hide-and-seek today? But I'd have to check if Monokuma can come in. Apparently, he gave MC a world of hurt last time. Hehe.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Then,
Thnk! Thnk!
The duo of knocks, erupting from the front door.
Excitement exploded from the little demon girl, and like a juiced-out teenager, she sprung from her seat and raced out her bedroom, nearly tumbling down the stairs as she stomped down the steps.
"MC!" she sang as soon as she reached the bottom. "You're here!"
Except, maybe not,
for she found herself looking not at her favorite mortal but at a bespectacled wolfman in a crisp lab coat.
"Heh?" Agatha uttered, confused.
"Ah, Agatha," Malak said. "Nice of you to greet Uncle Man at the door. Very considerate."
Mr. Man smiled. "Good evening, Agatha. I hope all is well."
"W-Where's MC?" Agatha asked. By now, her face had become as straight as a ruler.
"MC . . . can't make it tonight," Malak explained. "Something important came up."
More important than me?
"O-Oh. Okay."
Her disappointment fluttered across the air, refusing to wear any sort of camouflage.
"But worry not, dear Agatha!" the wolfman exclaimed. "I shall be keeping you company while your father is out for work. We shall travel through the history of our dimension, right down to the very speck that started it all!"
Sounds like a pain.
But Agatha had no means of escape, and thus, she was forced to drown in the professor's lengthy lectures. Syllable after syllable after syllable after syllable after syllable after syllable after syllable.
By the end of the session, she had half a mind to drop out of the educational system altogether.
And she could've sworn that when she dreamt of those horned sheep, they had textbooks stuck between their jaws.
The next night . . .
Thnk! Thnk! Thnk!
Alrighty! Agatha thought, closing her notebook. This time, for sure.
Again with the haste, zooming down the steps, (nearly falling in the process).
Again with the disappointment as her gaze fell upon not the one who taught her confidence but a gigantic animatronic bear.
"Ah," Malak said. "You came to greet again, Agatha? I'm very proud of you."
The guest known as Mr. Fazbear gave a smooth wave of his paw, his dead smile matching well with his lifeless eyes.
"Mr. Fazbear, here, will be watching over you tonight," Malak informed. "Be sure to listen to him. Bedtime is the same as always."
The mechanical bear shot a thumbs-up at the demon girl.
"B-But what about MC?" Agatha asked. "Aren't they coming tonight?"
Malak rubbed the back of his head, his demeanor that of a parent explaining why their puppy had to "go to sleep."
"Not this time," he said. "That important thing is still going on. I'm sorry, dear."
Mr. Fazbear stomped over to the demon girl to kindly stroke the top of her head.
"But you'll have Freddy with you!" Malak suggested. "I'm sure you two will have a blast!"
The mechanical bear nodded, his smile seeming to widen, despite the physical impossibility.
But Agatha couldn't lift her spirits completely, her garden of lilies now emptier as a dozen fluttered away, unannounced.
Then came the next night.
And the next.
And the next.
With each passing canvas of black, her excitement dwindled, and for good reason; her company checked every box on the list except the one that mattered most—the "kind mortal".
By now, her field of lilies had shrunk to just a tiny batch, and she had never been so terrified to lose the whole of her collection of petals.
The little demon girl gazed out her window, into the endless plain of darkness. Familiar, as if the walls of her own heart had been projected to the universe.
I wonder . . . if they'll ever come back.
The cafeteria bustled with lively chatter, tiny demons and monsters of all shapes and sizes grinning as they scarfed down their meals. (Some even chomped on the actual lunch tray.)
Agatha, however, lended her appetite zero attention, brushing her claws against the crust of her sandwich.
"You okay, Agatha?" Banda the Mummy asked, seated across from her.
"Hm?" The lost girl snapped out of her daze, but in return, she could offer only a meager smile. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."
Meredith, who enjoyed a bowl of soup close by, rested one of her tentacles on her friend's head, stroking it tenderly.
"That noticeable, huh?" Agatha guessed.
The Slendergirl nodded.
Like a zephyr washing over a plain of grass, the girl of the claws let the sorrows of her soul blend with the open air.
"Truth is . . . I haven't seen MC in a week," she admitted.
"A week?" Banda asked. "How come?"
"I don't know. Daddy won't tell me. He just says that MC is 'doing something important.'"
"Maybe they're getting really busy with school," Banda offered. "MC is in university, right?"
"I've seen them get a lot of homework. Even then, they'd make the effort to spend time with me."
Lady Depression embraced lovingly her character, wrapping her in a cloak of misery.
"What if . . . What if they just don't want to see me anymore?"
"Agatha, don't say that," Banda begged. "You know that's not true."
"But what if it is? What if MC is just tired of me? What if . . . What if they were just faking it? Maybe they don't like us monsters as much as they said they do."
The mummy girl reached across the table to lay her fingers atop Agatha's.
"Agatha," she said, "Meredith told me about what happened after school the other day—how MC told you they just wanted you to be happy. Meredith told me she had never seen someone look so genuine. If MC really did want you to be happy, why would they leave you without saying anything?"
"I . . . I don't know."
The veins of Agatha's heart glimmered with different shades, each hue pushing to be the dominant force.
"I'm just scared . . ." she admitted. "I don't want to lose MC."
Both Meredith and Banda struggled to watch their dear friend's distress, and they knew that this spiral staircase would only descend faster and faster. They had to do something.
The mummy girl balled up her fist.
"What if . . ." Banda began. "What if we could ask MC directly?"
Agatha was taken aback.
"What do you mean?"
"M-My parents, they know how to get to the mortal world. And I've seen how they do it."
Her resolve teetered, wondering if such syllables should even slip past her lips.
"We could . . . go to the mortal world."
The other two merely gaped, the suggestion as sudden as a comet crashing into the town.
"Go to the mortal world?" Agatha echoed.
Banda shook her head. "On second thought, never mind. That's a bad idea."
"No," Agatha said, her enthusiasm simmering. "That's a good idea. That's a really good idea, Banda! If MC won't come to us, we can just go to them!"
Meredith nodded her in excitement, determined.
Banda, on the other hand, sat firmly on the fence.
"I shouldn't have suggested that," she said. "I really shouldn't have. The mortal world is not a place you can just go to on a whim. My mom and dad told me . . . They told me . . ." Her throat strangled her words, mutilating the letters from gushing past her lips. "Sometimes, when a demon goes there, they don't come back."
The gravity around them went heavy, as if the fate of the universe nested before their eyes.
And yet, Agatha did not falter, her soul vibrating elegant flames vibrant enough to urge stars to grow envy.
"Even so," she said, "we have to do it. I have to do it. I need to see MC one last time. Please, Banda, help me get to the mortal world."
Reluctance curled around the mummy girl's wrists, restraining her. But as Agatha's determination spiraled to her own person, she became set on grabbing that key and undoing her manacles, opening the doors to this adventure.
"Okay," Banda said. "Let's do it."
Delight blossomed from the demon girl with claws, while she of the tentacles pumped her fist with confidence.
And thus, the trio began building the framework for their master plan—the engine that would thrust them into their grand journey. Every day at the lunch table, in the widened forest, they would plot each intricacy, each gear that would power their path.
Upon each night, although counterintuitive, Agatha would still wait for those knocks at the front door, a tiny part of her hungering for her dream—to hug closely her beloved mortal. But with each visitor, she would only be greeted by resonant disappointment. These encounters, however, only served to drive her even further, pushing her to actualize that vision, that scene of her facing her babysitter with nothing but open honesty at the table. In some moments, her hesitation would caress her cheek, asking her if the truth was truly what she desired. And to that menace, she'd growl, "Back off." The journey had already been set; all she had to do now was follow the light that beckoned at the end of the tunnel.
Before she knew it, the night that would lead to such luminance plopped itself before her lap, inviting her.
At the dining room table, Agatha sat, bowl of soup at the ready, although untouched.
Across from her, a mountainous being watched her with patience, his outfit of work clothes dirtied with smears of blood new and old. The red marks of his hockey mask lost a touch of their vibrancy.
"Sorry, Mr. Voorhees," Agatha said, stirring her meal. "I just don't think I'm all that hungry tonight. And you took the time to make me this too . . ."
From the monstrous man, a grunt, followed by a shaking of his head.
Agatha lifted herself from her chair.
"If you don't mind," she said, "I think I'm just gonna turn in for the night."
He of the hockey mask could notice right away the cracks of her morale, capable of adding an even deeper hollowness to her empty eye sockets.
The hockey man gave her a thumbs up, then rose to his feet himself to gladly clean the table.
Agatha ambled past him, towards the staircase that ascended.
"Goodnight, Mr. Voorhees," she said. "I'll see you next time."
The behemoth offered a gentle wave, cracking several bones with each movement.
Thus, the little demon girl headed upstairs, and when she had reached her room, she closed the door behind her.
But the last thing she thought about was her garden of dreams. No. The night had only just begun, and judging by the hurdles that stood tall before her, Agatha needed every ounce of her concentration if she would achieve her climb to that satisfying peak.
Her movements mouse-like, the demon girl stuffed pillows underneath her blanket, creating a believable mound that no one would look twice at. Then, after tucking a scrap of paper into her pocket, Agatha climbed out her window and leapt into a nearby tree, sliding down carefully to complete her master escape.
Through a handful of dimensions, she traveled, popping in and out of neighborhoods by way of portals. And within each space, she'd hop from bush to bush, concealing her character as best she could.
Why does Daddy have to know everyone?
Eventually, she arrived at her destination: a basic children's playground, desolate save the three souls already present—Banda, Meredith, and the grinning wolf girl Wolfette.
At Agatha's emergence, the trio basked in delight.
"Glad you could make it," Banda said.
"Thanks," Agatha said, "but that's what you should be saying to Wolfette. Thank you so much for coming."
"It's my pleasure!" the wolf girl bellowed. "My dad always talks about the mortals, so I'm curious to see where they live." She licked her teeth. "And what kind of food they got."
Agatha turned her attention to the whole.
"Does everyone have good cover stories?" she asked.
From the group, nods.
"I told my dad I was working super hard on homework and that he shouldn't bother me," Wolfette said. "Guy almost passed out from excitement."
Meredith coiled her tentacles gently around her neck, mimicking a person struggling to be healthy.
"You told him you were sick?" Banda asked. "What if he checks up on you?"
Meredith shook her head, resting her hands on her cheek to mimic sleep.
"Fair enough," Agatha said. "So, are we all ready?"
A nod.
A fist pump.
A wavering gaze.
"Are we sure we wanna do this?" Banda asked. "Last chance to back out."
But Agatha's resolve had already solidified, her claws scratching against the space where even stars could not kiss.
"I'm all in," she said. "I'm going to see MC."
"All right. Let's do it."
With that, the quartet of monster girls fled from the park, marching from neighborhood to neighborhood until, ultimately, they came across a castle-esque mansion, complete with glass windows and pillars comprised of iron bricks.
"My parents still think I'm upstairs," Banda said, "so we're gonna have to sneak into my room."
Their stealth superb, the girls climbed upon a tree swaying in the front lawn, and as a reverse to Agatha's actions earlier, she and the others climbed after Banda through a window, entering the mummy girl's bedroom.
The visitors eyed Banda's quarters with curiosity, noticing the plethora of K-pop posters and shelves lined with nendoroid figures.
"Your room is . . . somethin'," Wolfette noted. "What even are these things?"
"They're souvenirs my parents bring back to me from the mortal world," Banda explained. She soon blushed. "It's a little embarrassing when you keep looking around."
"Let's get moving," Agatha urged. "We only have tonight to leave and come back."
The mummy girl ambled over to her bedroom door, where she pulled open the darkened wood just barely.
A few seconds of waiting, observing.
Then, she shut the door.
"All right," she whispered, "my parents are watching a movie downstairs, so we're gonna have to sneak past them if we want to get to the portal."
"What movie are they watching?" Wolfette wondered.
"I don't really think that's important right now."
"You never know."
"Can we just go?" Agatha pleaded.
In agreeance, the quartet crept out of Banda's bedroom, and with footsteps lighter than a feather, they tiptoed down the carpeted staircase.
Now at the middle floor, they had a mere wall separating them from the matured mummies.
"I am . . . inevitable," the television sounded, the glow of the screen stretching around the wall's corner.
The wolf girl made an "oh, snap" expression, the film's dialogue sweet in her ears.
"That's a good movie," she mouthed.
The others: not as impressed, deciding to simply press onward down the next flight of stairs. With each step taken, the voices of the television faded out, until only the weakest decibel flourished the space.
After the final step, the monster girls found themselves facing a towering steel door decorated with a bevy of locks and dials.
"Keep lookout," Banda whispered, fishing out from her pocket a ring of exotic keys.
So, they did, hearts pounding like drum sets as they gazed and gazed at the staircase's top. Uneasiness coiled around their confidence, and Agatha could feel her stomach bile gurgle, her muscles tensing beyond imagination. Seconds waved like minutes, and minutes, like eons.
"Okay," Banda finally said. "Let's go."
Carefully, she pulled open the barrier of metal, ushering the girls inside.
Beyond that, the atmosphere of the area morphed completely, transforming from a run-of-the-mill suburban home to a domain crafted only for the ancients. Dimness scurried from wall to wall, the illumination stemming only from lit candles hung from the ceiling. Darkened tiles spread across the broad flooring, complementing the quartet of chiseled gray pillars, one at each corner. At the center, a lectern greeted them, occupied by a carmine book as wide as their heads and as thick as their torsos. On the front cover gleamed a golden pentagram.
"Whoa," Wolfette whispered, glancing around. "This place looks wicked."
"I've never actually been in here like this," Banda admitted. "But I do remember one time when my parents left the door open. I took a peek inside, and that's why I know what to do."
She approached the demonic book and flipped it open, the black-laced pages ripe with a stench like rotten apples.
"Stay close to where I am," Banda informed the others. "Do not stick to the walls."
Agatha swallowed hard the lump in her throat as the girls clumped together towards the center.
The mummy girl ran her finger along one of the pages.
"Hear our plea, Lord Nadroj," she read. "We are but atoms in your grand scheme, simple mechanisms in your intricate design. We offer no disrespect, praising you in all your glory. We merely ask that you bless us with your third eye. Widen our visions, if only by a fraction. Reveal to us the depths of sinistry that even you dwelled upon. Please, deliver us to the realm of sinners, where mere men don visages of beasts, where women bask in the splitness of their character. Part the gateway and open the path to where the mortals grin!"
At first, nothing.
"Did it work?" Wolfette wondered.
Her answer: activity, vibrating from the four pillars. Like familiars, orbs of moon-hued light actualized at their tops, and soon enough, they lashed out vines of energy, connecting themselves to their kin. One by one, the pieces of the pattern synergized, their surfaces trembling like children ecstatic, until a grid-like pattern of luminant lines covered the walls.
I'm glad we took her advice, Agatha thought.
Meredith clung to her friends' arms, her tentacles drooping.
Then, it arrived, first with a clawed hand piercing through one of the grids. Then an arm. Then a torso. A fusion of shock and awe whirled around the girls, their eyes gaping as the werewolf breached their actuality. colossal in height, its limbs surpassed the mightiest of fortresses, its torso heftier than a tank. No fur to be admired; only mist-hued energy that mimicked softened electricity.
"Is . . . Is that supposed to happen?" Agatha whispered.
Banda brought her finger to her lips.
"Shhh."
The creature glanced around, its golden eyes shimmering like marbles. Then, like a panther gone mad, it raced towards the monster girls, its stomps featherweight.
Not good!
Agatha and the others braced themselves.
The twist.
When the beast had reached, it slashed its claws through the air above the demonic book, warping the very fabric of reality. A tear in the dimension actualized, and wasting no time, the werewolf hurled itself through, vanishing from sight.
In what had felt like forever, the girls finally let loose sighs of relief, their muscles loosening.
"That was an experience," Wolfette groaned. "Not a good one, but one nonetheless."
"That sounded really loud," Agatha worried.
"Don't worry," Banda assured. "My parents made the door soundproof so that they can leave while I'm still sleeping." She swiveled her attention to the wild-looking portal. "We'd better hurry, though, before our window closes."
The others nodded, and although their hesitation dragged them like quicksand, they marched onward, towards the bounds that their imagination struggled to define.
First went the mummy girl, who pressed her fingers against the dimensional tear.
Foop!
Instantly, she blinked out of existence.
One by one, the others followed suit, with Agatha being the last.
Wait for me, MC.
I'm coming for you.
She caressed the portal.
Foop!
As swift as a sneeze, shutting your eyes to one scene, then reopening them to another. Or, like waking up from a nap—dazed, groggy, yet satisfied.
New sensations collided with the little demon girl, and as she studied her surroundings, her curiosity blossomed. No more with the chamber of oddities, the dungeon-like box that thrived upon the supernatural. Now, she stood upon a stout hill of fresh grass, her ceiling composed of a night sky ripe with a bevy of dazzling stars. From the east, a zephyr caressed her nostrils, gifting her the strange scent of motor oils and fumes. No bloodlust. No sticky salivation. Just crisp air.
"Where am—"
Yoink!
As sudden as a liger strike, a force yanked Agatha to the ground.
"Get down!" someone whispered.
Another glance around and the demon girl found her friends lying beside her, flat on their stomachs. No distortions of their characters that she could spot.
"You guys are safe," Agatha said. "Thank goo—"
"Shh," Banda urged, pressing her finger to her lips.
Why are we hiding?
Curious, the late arrival poked up her head just a tiny bit, allowing her sights to be engulfed by the playful components of a park. Oak trees spread throughout evenly, divided only by the pathways of cobblestone and various benches. To one side, a shortened bridge filled the gap between a river, and in the center, a fountain shaped like cherubs spat water, filling the pool beneath it.
A level of awe soon unraveled in the demon girl's heart as the familiarity of it all splashed over her like pleasant rain.
I know this place, she thought. Wasn't it over there . . . ?
The memory played like a film—the frightened human, mere moments away from perishing before their soul was saved by the whining demon girl.
That feels like so long ago.
However, Agatha let not Lady Melancholy coddle her, her determination brewing into something fierce.
On the other hand, the rest of the girls quivered, their anxiety pounding as they focused to not inch a single muscle.
And as the spectacle stumbled upon Agatha's own vision, she understood why.
Her own father, paired with Uncle Slenderman, concealed behind a bush as they waited for their prey.
"I'm telling you," Malak whispered, "you need to get better at build battles. You can't just run away when the good ones rush us."
Slenderman shook his head, even his tentacles.
"So what if you can snipe?" Malak challenged. "A sniper will never beat a pump, and that's a guarantee."
"What do we do?" Banda whispered. "If they see us, it's game over."
Agatha sent her focus to their sixes, the dense forest inviting her with glee.
"Crawl back," she suggested. "Go into the trees."
"We'll get lost," Banda argued.
"It doesn't matter where we start. I have something that'll lead us to MC; we just need to get to a clear spot."
Meredith nodded, seconding.
And although the mummy girl's indecisiveness scurried across her spine, she joined the pack, and together, the four of them army-crawled backwards, rolling down the hill and into the bushes. Upon their landing, the leaves rustled, but Agatha convinced herself that they had cleared enough distance to be safe.
"That was close," Wolfette said. "They would've dragged us back home if they caught us."
And give us the lecture of our lives, Agatha added.
She then fished out a scrap of paper from her pocket to present to the group.
"This is one of those 'essay' things MC talked to me about," she explained. "They gave it to me so I could learn about it." Agatha offered the paper to Wolfette. "Think you can track them with this?"
The wolf girl dug her snout into the evidence, sniffing across every centimeter.
Once finished, she sent her nostrils to the wind, and after some hefty sniffs, she grinned.
"I think I have a lead," she announced.
Agatha quivered with excitement.
"Let's do this."
Thus, with the wolf girl at the lead, the quartet journeyed across the forest floor, their atmosphere enlightened by the cackle of crickets and lullabies of owls. Fireflies fluttered like earthbound stars. But as their distance covered widened, so did the vibrancy of their space, the darkness receding as pockets of light glimmered through the treeline.
Their curiosity rattling, the girls sped onward, arriving at the edge of the maze of wood. Beyond that, the luxurious cityscape blessed their focus. Structures grand and tiny stood tall, their windows decorated with light as the night life rustled at ground level.
"Whoa . . ." Agatha uttered, her awe limitless.
"It's like Grimstone," Banda remarked.
They gazed at the crowds, those masses of mortals that swayed like ocean waves, twisting knots into Agatha's stomach. But her resolve persisted, much so that even the jaws of a monstrous beast would not deter her.
"You're sure MC is in there, right, Wolfette?" she asked.
"Positive. I can smell 'em through there."
"All right. Then, let's go."
Not yet.
"Hang on," Banda said, pausing the group. "We can't go in looking like this. At least, not Agatha and Meredith."
"Why not?" Agatha asked.
"You'll stand out too much. We have to look as close to them as we can; otherwise, we'll bring in attention."
"Fair enough."
An image, Agatha visualized, one that made her feel woozy all over, and like a stage in evolution, her arms morphed from monstrous weapons to petite limbs, human-like. Same with her eyes, the sockets now supplied with mesmerizing gems of violet.
As for the mute girl, she simply retracted her tentacles and made sure her bangs covered her face.
Examining them, the mummy girl gave the thumbs up.
"Okay," she said, "we're ready to rock."
"Wait, why don't you or I have to change?" Wolfette wondered.
"Well, apparently, the mortals like to dress up as us around a certain time of the year. You can fake your fur and I can fake my bandages, but Agatha can't fake her arms and Meredith can't fake her tentacles."
The girl of no expression clenched her fists.
"Ah, sorry," Banda said. "Your 'extra arms.'"
Meredith nodded, satisfied.
Agatha carried herself to the head of the pack.
"Is everyone ready?" she asked.
The monster girls braced themselves for one last moment, until, their hearts bold, they marched down the hill and onward, into the hive of those peculiar mortals.
Now in the streets, the chatter fluttered across like blue jays, whereas its volume mimicked that of woodpeckers. Laughter. Sorrow. General tomfoolery. Along the sides, vendors of the aged variety offered their wares, proud to showcase their wooden carts.
"Cotton candy! Get yer cotton candy here!"
"Tacos! Tacos!"
"Is it normal to sell stuff that way?" Agatha wondered.
"I dunno," Banda answered. "Seems kinda dirty."
Wolfette wiped her saliva from her mouth. "Delicious, nonetheless."
"In any case, let's just stick close to each other. Wolfette, can you still smell MC?"
"Umu! They're straight ahead."
"Okay. Let's get a move on." The mummy girl shook with uneasiness. "I have a bad feeling about this place."
A tingling of the spine that proved to hold truth, for even as the girls minded their own business, ignoring the odd stares delivered to them, their path had been cut off, courtesy of a grown mortal dressed in some sort of blue uniform.
"Hey, girls," he said, his voice hefty, "isn't it a little late to be wandering by yourselves?"
Not a single member of the group could squeeze out a syllable, their bones quivering as the nervousness coiled its fingers around their intestines and yanked and yanked.
"U-Um . . ." Banda uttered.
The mortal furrowed his brow.
"Where are your parents?" he asked sternly.
"W-Well . . ."
What should we do? Agatha wondered. What can we do?
Although she didn't see outright, the little demon girl could sense similar distress from her companions, their expressions contorted undoubtedly into grimaces.
"All right," the mortal man said, his patience emptied, "I'm gonna need you four to come with me."
Panic screamed in Agatha's face as the stranger went to grab her hand.
"Hey, look!" Wolfette cried, pointing to the side. "Isn't that Miss Deviluke!"
Like pigeons to a bell, the mortal, as well as the girls, turned their heads.
And in that instant, the wolf girl grabbed Meredith by the hand and bolted in the opposite direction.
"Time to split!" she announced, urging Agatha and Banda to do the same.
A second later and the chase was on.
"Hey!" the man barked. "Get back here!"
"Catch us if ya can!" the wolf girl hollered.
Like cheetahs, the monsters ran, zipping through the crowds as they brushed against the idlers. Second by second, the gap between them and the stranger widened; but even then, a road without a destination offered little appeal.
"What do we do?" Agatha asked.
"A mighty fine question," Wolfette answered. "What do we do?"
"You don't have a plan!?" Banda exclaimed.
"I did. It was 'run'! Now, that plan's finished, and we need a new one!"
"Stop those girls!" the stranger barked at his fellow mortals. "Stop them!"
However, the masses disobeyed, offering only confusion and exclamations as some jolted to the side.
Agatha relished the dust her foe gnawed on.
"We're losing him!" she cheered.
It might not be enough, the wolf girl thought. We have to make sure he doesn't find us again.
Her instincts swallowed her whole like a golden virus.
Suddenly, Wolfette bent her path, escorting Meredith and herself into an alleyway to the side.
"Wolfette!" Banda cried.
"What is she doing?" Agatha asked.
Could the remaining pair double back?
Not a chance.
Any second wasted and the persistent mortal would catch up, and Agatha didn't want to imagine what'd he do once in reach.
Thus, despite her hesitation clawing into her limbs, she carried onward, joining Banda in shuffling deeper into this terrifying realm of sinners.
Eventually, the duo ended up following their own alleyway, the corners littered with shadows that blinked. And after venturing through the narrow space did they wind up in a cramped area no bigger than a living room. Trash cans stood against the walls as a variety of backdoors greeted them with lit-up windows.
"I think we're okay here," Banda said, halting.
Agatha did the same, breathing hard through her nose but feeling her energy barely dip.
She studied where they came from.
No shuffling footsteps.
"We lost him," she said.
"Not just him," Banda noted, her worry written on her sleeve.
Agatha shared a similar sentiment.
This plan is breaking down by the minute.
Please be okay, Wolfette, Meredith.
Autopilot.
The definition of the world had blanked out from the wolf girl's vision, her mind drowning in the overwhelming urge to survive. Didn't matter the obstacle—cardboard boxes, rusty pipes, barrels of trash; she rammed through all of them, exceeding speeds that would have even God questioning His limits.
Have to get away.
Have to get away.
Have to get away.
Have to—
Klink!
Her grip on reality,
restored.
Wolfette's awareness returned like a new sense, gifted by the blank girl who tugged on her wrist.
The wolf girl slowed down, coming to a pause, bringing the duo to their umpteenth back street.
"Huh?" she uttered, absorbing the environment. "Where are we?"
Swift as a dragonfly, Meredith karate-chopped Wolfette on the forehead.
"Ow!" the wolf girl groaned. "What was that for?"
Meredith merely balled up her fists, her frustration booming despite the facial features.
It didn't take long for Wolfette's realization to bop her on the head.
"Ah. We . . . We got separated, didn't we?"
The girl of the tentacles lowered her head, already tired of the situation.
Wolfette, on the hand, simpered, rubbing her hand against the back of her head.
"Sorry about that," she said. "I don't know what happened. I just got so worked up. I wanted to get away so bad, everything else just shut off."
The wolf girl lowered her head, melancholic.
"Really. Sorry."
Sensing the meadow dampen, Meredith shouldered the responsibility, stroking Wolfette kindly on the head to heal her garden of joy.
A remedy that the wolf girl accepted graciously.
Her ambition charged, she pumped her fist.
"Alrighty!" she boomed. "Let's go find the others, then we can all tackle MC together!"
Meredith balled her own fingers, her nods ecstatic.
Just then, the wolf girl's stomach rumbled.
"M-Maybe . . ." She wiped her teeth, saliva dribbling down. "Maybe we can take our time, though. The foods I'm smellin' are driving me crazy."
From the younger Slender, an implied expression:
"This is gonna be a long night."
Banda returned to Agatha from the alleyway's southern entrance.
"I don't see them anywhere," she said. "Just a whole lot of humans."
Seated against the wall, the girl of the demon claws hugged her knees closer to her chest.
"This isn't what I wanted," she said. "Not one bit."
"It'll be okay, Agatha," Banda assured her. "We'll find them."
"But this isn't what was supposed to happen. We were just supposed to find MC then leave. Now, we're separated, and because of me, they're probably gonna end up getting hurt."
It bled through her skin, that shame that she struggled to shake off.
"I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Banda. We never should've come here."
Like a bubble, that precious somebody drifted into her garden of thoughts, the one who could always take her to where the rainbow shined.
I should've just let you hate me.
The mummy girl could see them clearly, those butterflies sinking to the ground, their wings shredded beneath the weight of contrition.
Not yet.
Not ever.
She approached her companion, crouching down.
"Agatha."
The saddened demon girl flinched as she of the bandages lovingly stroked the top of her head.
"I'm scared," Banda admitted. "Really scared. We don't know anything about the mortal world, and quite frankly, part of me really just wants to go home."
She smiled. "But another part—a bigger part—wants to keep going forward. I want to keep exploring. I want to see just how far we can make it. It's thanks to you, Agatha, that I can feel this way."
The demon girl raised her eyebrows.
"When you wanted to come to this world, you looked so confident," Banda continued. "You knew what you wanted, and you didn't let anything stop you from getting where you wanna be. I'm not like that. Not yet, anyways. But seeing you makes me wanna get there even faster."
Sincerity, etched across each syllable.
"You make me brave, Agatha!
"So, let's not give up. We're gonna find Wolfette and Meredith. Then, we're gonna find MC. And when we do, you'll get to tell them all the things you wanna say."
She rose to her feet, her hand outstretched.
"We got this."
And there they went again, those beautiful butterflies, dancing across the meadow, sprinkling their shades atop her petals of hope.
Agatha found her own lips curving as she gladly accepted her friend's hand.
"We do!" she promised.
Just then, one of the backdoors flung open, shattering the girls' glass case of grit.
"What is up with all this racket!? Is it the damn crows again!?"
The little girls froze, stiller than a statue.
Only their eyes flickered with motion, their stares rising and falling as they studied the new arrival—a mortal man. No, a mortal beast, his frame beefy and mountainous. He stood as tall as Mr. Fazbear, perhaps even taller. Meanwhile, his limbs rivaled logs in thickness, the skin shielded by hair that nearly overtook a werewolf's fur. In one hand, he held a spatula, complementing his outfit of a chef's coat.
He scanned the area, eventually spotting the tiny duo.
"Hm?" the man hummed.
Agatha squeezed Banda's fingers.
The mortal studied them.
The demons studied back.
Back,
and forth.
Back,
and forth.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Then, the action.
His silence kept, the mountainous man approached the girls, where he then patted them on the back, herding them into the building he had occupied.
Of course, the demons complied;
either that or be stomped on.
What are we doing?
Once through the door, the man shut it tight behind them, locking the girls into a boisterous kitchen. Pans sizzled across the stovetops as mortals of all shapes and sizes shuffled across the tiled flooring, dressed in attire similar to the towering man. Along the countertops, kitchen utensils gleamed beneath the lamps that hung, their surfaces moist as steam floated through the air like a thin cloud.
"Salt! We need more salt!"
"Where are the red peppers!?"
"Where's the lamb sauce!?"
Still mute, the mountainous mortal led the two girls to a corner of the kitchen where an oak table offered its seats.
He gestured.
They accepted.
One of the slimmer humans approached the beefy man.
"Boss!" she said. "The rice'll be ready in five! We need . . ."
Her message trailed into the abyss as she noticed the new arrivals.
The towering man, the Boss, nodded at the slim one—a gesture that she apparently understood perfectly well since she mimicked him, her expression now caked with seriousness.
With that, the two mortals waltzed away, leaving Agatha and Banda to adore the pleasant scents kissing them like relatives.
The mummy girl cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, "W-What's going on? What's happening?"
That's a good question, Agatha thought. As far as I know, we're just getting further and further away from MC.
"I say we play along for now," she whispered back. "Who knows what they'll do to us if we don't listen."
She could already imagine it: their bodies splayed atop a dish of fine porcelain; the mortals licking their lips, knives and forks ready to pierce.
"Finger lickin' good," they'd say.
"I'm lovin' it."
"Live mas," (whatever that meant).
The horror of it all!
They'd send her remains to her mailbox.
They'd snap photos for the occasion.
They'd . . . set plates of food before her, much like what they were doing now.
As Agatha lost herself in her imagination, a pair of mortals approached her and Banda to plant trays of meat and vegetables upon their table.
Huh?
The deliverers said nothing, strolling away just as the colossal man returned to spectate, his arms folded.
He waited.
So did the girls.
"Eat," he finally ordered, his tone heavy. "You need some meat on your bones."
What about the mailbox?
The photos?
The "finger-lickin'" good?
Instead, the demon girl had to dance with her confusion as she examined the meals before her.
Legs of some animal.
Avajekill, maybe?
A block of brown meat encased with rich sauce.
Lalabird?
Thin strands swirling together to look like a tornado.
Looks like Daddy's Mawgraw pasta. But why are the pieces tan?
She looked back to the mortal, who waited patiently.
Suddenly, like a controller vibrating, the mummy girl's stomach growled, urging her cheeks to redden as she stared at her lap.
"Eat," the man said.
After assessing the situation, Agatha realized that only one exit could be passed through; thus, her bravery bold, she brushed her fingers against the hunk of meat, grabbing it to bite off a piece.
Chew.
Chew.
For mortal food, this isn't half bad.
And here I thought MC didn't know what good food was.
Before she knew it, her hunger, once calm, roared like a wolf, and her hands moved on their own, snagging any piece of food that crossed her sight.
A second later and Banda joined in, taming her wailing stomach.
Despite his monstrous character, the mountainous man drew forth an affable grin as he kindly pat Agatha on the head.
"You're so hungry you can't even use a fork?" he asked. "It's all right now. Eat your fill!"
The other chefs snuck peeks at the little girls as they shook their pots and pans, delighted in the way they scarfed down the meals.
In the meantime, a new figure entered the kitchen: a teenage girl, her body slender as she wore a pink hoodie and jeans. Hair dark like tree bark plummeted to her waist, matching well with the fusion of jade and aqua that thrived in her irises.
"Pa!" she called out to the man. "We need more chops ASAP!"
Her urgency died down a bit as she noticed the tiny girls eating enough for eight.
"Oi-ya?" she asked. "What do we have 'ere?"
"Found 'em out back," the man explained. "Scroungin' for scraps, I bet."
"By the way they're shovelin' down those biscuits, I wouldn't doubt it."
The hefty mortal began to step away.
"Can you watch over them for a sec?" he asked. "I have to get their outfits ready."
"Their outfits?"
The teenage girl glanced at her dad to find his ulterior motives scurrying across his visage.
Her realization cranked to eleven.
"Ah. So, that's what you were after. Should've realized ya wouldn't just give 'em the food."
"Those who don't work don't eat, daughter of mine."
His work to be done, the man fled from the scene, leaving the trio of adolescents to connect.
We are really getting off track here, Agatha thought. We still need to find Wolfette and Meredith. But this food is just so good, I can't stop eating. I can't believe MC never brought me anything before.
The mummy girl held a similar opinion, her insides begging and begging for more of the mortal grub.
Only after their stomach lines had expanded to the width of galaxies did the two girls finally slow their rolls, their realization of the space around them flickering like a light bulb.
"Huh?" Agatha asked.
"What are we . . . ?" Banda began.
"Looks like you're finally finished," a voice said beside them.
The demon girls turned their heads to spot a beautiful young gal spectating them.
"I'm sure y'all will be full for a couple months," the girl said. "Y'all really know how to put it away."
Agatha and Banda surveyed the table, finding most, if not all, of the plates practically licked clean.
The mummy girl's cheeks went as red as cherries.
"W-We're sorry," she whispered. "W-We didn't mean to eat it all."
"Don't ya sweat it! As a matter of fact, it's better that ya did scarf it all down. Means what we're makin' is delicious as heck! Besides, I'm sure y'all have been struggling, being homeless and all."
"Homeless?" Agatha echoed. To Banda: "We're homeless?"
"I guess in this world, we would be."
"This world?" the teenager asked.
Panic bonked the little girls on their foreheads.
"N-No . . ." Banda tried. "I . . . I mean . . ."
Thankfully, the mortal didn't press them, instead donning her knucklehead grin.
"Y'all are just weirdos," she told them. "But don't worry, 'cause I'm a weirdo too!"
She knelt down to be at eye level with them.
"Y'all got some names?"
"Agatha."
"B-Banda."
"Pretty names." The teenager pointed a thumb at herself. "They call me Joanna. Joanna Fitzgerald! Most gung ho sixteen-year-old this side of town!"
Agatha couldn't explain it, but just being in this mortal's bubble gifted her incredible warmth and comfort, as if her favorite blanket enveloped her whole.
Joanna raised her finger.
"A word of advice," she said. "The next time you're lookin' for food, don't come here. Not that we don't like ya, but the other shops around absolutely hate scavengers. Shoot, just the other day, I saw Mr. Mengrin whack a hobo with his hittin' stick. To be fair, though, that oldie was takin' a leak near the door. And apparently, he smelled like stale goldfish crackers. But that's besides the point!"
I have no clue what she's saying, Agatha decided.
Thus, she just gave the standard smile and nod.
"We take care of the little people here," Joanna said. "Of course, not for free."
A twisted grin erupted from her lips, just as the mountainous man returned with some peculiar clothing in his grasp.
"You heard the chef," the teenage girl said. "He who doesn't work, doesn't eat. Hope you lassies are ready."
The little demon girls shivered, their danger sensors spinning off the charts.
What . . . What are you gonna do to us?
"Mister! One more bowl please!"
"Well, since you look so cute, I don't see why not!"
The wolf girl salivated near the wooden counter, a stack of empty bowls towering beside.
Across from her, an aged human dressed in an apron played with his wok, glazing his noodles with the best of the best sauce.
Meanwhile, the smaller Slender pulled like mad, budging not a single inch of her starving companion.
"One more," Wolfette promised her. "One more."
Meredith's aura said it all.
You said that three bowls ago.
What . . . What are we doing?
The duo stood before the crowd, their hands held at their waists as their gazes stuck to the floorboards.
All around, the mature mortals (viking-like men) eyed them up and down, from the booths to the far back to the circular tables near the sides. They each held jugs of colorful drinks in their hands, complementing the dishes of exotic food before them.
Yet, despite the festive atmosphere, a stillness captured the space, as if the attention could be hooked only into the adorable new arrivals.
"What is this?" one of them asked.
"What are we lookin' at, Mac?" another questioned.
Beside the young girls, the beefy man smiled as though he had just made a groundbreaking discovery.
He gestured to the little ones decked out in complete maid outfits.
"We got some new mascots for the night!" he bellowed, excited.
Mascots? Agatha thought. She ran her gaze along the crisp frills. We kinda look like the Scarlet Guards Miss Lamella always has around her. I doubt we'll be protecting anyone, though.
The mummy girl clenched her muscles, her cheeks redder than strawberries as she struggled to not explode from the embarrassment.
Mm. Definitely won't be protecting with you like that, Banda.
Agatha leaned towards Joanna.
"Um," she whispered. "What are we supposed to do?"
"Just be yourself," the teenager answered.
Be myself?
Confusion spun its web around Agatha's world, trapping her understanding with ease.
But just as quick as the silk had unraveled did it burn away, torched by the buzz booming like bombs.
"K-Kawaii!"
"She looks so adorable!"
"They may be cuter than your niece, Will."
"Nani!?"
(Grown men, by the way.
Grown men.)
The mortals cheered as if queens had blessed their presence.
Joanna grinned. "See? Just be yourself."
"Huh . . ."
I have no clue what's happening.
But as the humans spread their kindness—head pats, sharing of food, bubbly giggles—the puzzle pieces aligned themselves cleanly.
For so long, her father, as well as the majority of monsters, had warned her of the simplicity of the mortals. They were ruthless yet spineless. Cruel yet cowardly.
They deserved to be treated like cattle, their souls harvested for the betterment of demonkind.
And for much of her life, she believed them.
That was, until MC came along—a mortal who, while timid at first, soon warmed up to the little demon girl, teaching her that perhaps the humans and beasts were not much different after all.
Now, she had learned another lesson:
that maybe, just maybe, there were more like MC—humans who relished in compassion and understanding, who could see the demons as more than just creatures of nightmares.
Maybe they could become friends.
Eventually, after being treated as the universe's most precious gems for about an hour, both Agatha and Banda retreated to the kitchen, now able to relax in their break time. There, the mountainous man waited for them with a tray of oatmeal cookies.
"Good job out there, lassies!" he bellowed, proud. "I ain't seen the guys this rowdy since Weston brought in his German shepherd."
The two girls indulged in their snack, right as Joanna came in to join them.
"Why don't y'all get some air outside?" the man suggested. "Be back here in fifteen, though. They just can't get enough of y'all!"
Compliant, the tiny maids carried themselves to the back lot alongside Joanna.
"You gals are doing a mighty fine job!" the teenager praised. "The tips just keep rolling in! We might be able to get that new breadmaker by the end of the month!"
For the most part, both Agatha and Banda appreciated the sentiment; however, a small portion of their conscience stumbled through the guilt, their emotions etched onto their sleeves.
"What's up?" Joanna asked. "Do y'all want a breadmaker too?"
"No, nothing like that," Agatha answered. "We're having a lot of fun. It's just that . . . we shouldn't be here right now."
"What do ya mean?"
Thus, the demon girls explained the situation (minus the part where they arrived from a dimension of ghosts and goblins).
"So, you lost your friends?" Joanna summarized.
"Mm-hm," Agatha hummed.
"And we're worried that they might be hurt," Banda added.
"Don't be afraid," Joanna told them. "This town may look scary, but there's nothing too dangerous around here. The worst thing you'd have to worry about is your friends getting chased by a poodle."
A poodle?
Is that what the human in the blue was?
"Still . . ." Agatha couldn't make her mood less damp.
The young mortal read the situation loud and clear.
Joanna lifted her sleeve, revealing the watch wrapped around her wrist.
"Thirteen minutes," she said. "I think we got enough to check around here. What do ya say?"
Agatha's eyes lit up.
"Really?"
Joanna grinned. "Really."
Thus, the trio carried themselves away from the restaurant to blend into the masses crowding the streets.
"I guess I shouldn't have jumped to the conclusion that y'all were homeless," Joanna admitted. "Aside from your bottomless stomachs, y'all looked as clean as a new car."
"But of course!" Agatha said. "We had to look super fresh for when we finally found MC."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate the effort."
Here's hoping.
The mummy girl stared at the windows they passed, admiring the products that ranged from adorable figurines to slim electronics.
But as they neared a clothing shop, she had to do a double take. The mannequins posing couldn't have been more still, more regular.
Yet one of them seemed . . . familiar.
That outfit.
That shortened hair.
That likeness to true life.
Banda paused.
"Meredith?"
Suddenly, the mannequin in question burst to life, rushing to the group to lend the mummy girl a warm hug.
"Meredith!" Agatha cheered, joining in on the embrace. "We were so worried about you!"
The girl of no facial features merely tightened her squeeze, her tears in full force if she had the eyes for them.
"What happened?" Agatha asked. "Where's Wolfette?"
In a blink, the smaller Slender went from happy to irritated, twisting her body into various poses to play a story.
Through it all, the other two demon girls nodded, understanding fully.
Why isn't she saying anything? Joanna wondered. And how are they getting what she's doing?
Confusion aside, the teenager found herself glad.
Looks like y'all already got one back. Good for you guys.
She glanced around, testing her luck, and as if the gods had been watching, Joanna spotted another peculiar little girl strolling at the opposite end of the street.
She followed a trail of bits on the ground, scooping them into her mouth as she waddled into a nearby alleyway.
"Hey," Joanna said to the others, pointing. "Is that your other friend over there?"
The trio quit with the charades to follow the mortal's finger, and like spotting a mound of gold, their visages lit up at the sight of their wolf companion.
"Wolfette!" Agatha cried.
Meredith clenched her fist, ready to hammer.
Banda tilted her head to the side.
"Where's she going?" she asked.
They chased after their furry friend right as her body disappeared from sight.
"Wolfette!"
Without a second thought, they charged into the alley, throwing away the luminance of the streets for blackness parallel to none.
"Wolfette."
The wolf girl faced them, revealing her stuffed cheeks.
"You guysh!" she exclaimed.
At long last, the group reconnected,
just in time for a new, sinister voice to join the scene.
"Gotcha."
Suddenly, the shadows all around squirmed to life, clinging to the third dimension to coil around the girls and drag them into the ground.
A moment later and Agatha found herself in a new landscape, one that thrived in the nightmares of the mortals.
No more crowds.
No more shops.
No more atmosphere decorated with vibrancy.
Now, only dread, dense enough that the weak-willed would become smothered.
The girls stood upon a circular plain of nicely trimmed grass, the blades as violet as the sea of clouds rolling across the sky. In the distance, as far as the mind could render, disfigured spirits squirmed like newly made corpses, their bodies black as their eyes and mouth gleamed with a green glow.
"W-Where are we?" Banda asked. "What happened?"
She quickly noticed the tentacles sprouting from the faceless girl's back.
"Meredith! Your arms!"
The smaller Slender squeezed her muscles; however, the tendrils refused to retreat.
Agatha, too, had her state reverted, her hands now equipped with their monstrous claws.
Although, Joanna didn't seem to notice, her fear and anxiety aligning only with the hellish background.
"W-What is this place?" she asked.
The wolf girl continued eating her snacks.
"I think we're back," she predicted.
The leader of the group had caution blended into her bones.
"This is not good," Agatha whispered. "Not good at all."
"You got that right."
Before the quintet, a mass of darkened matter sprouted forth like a twisted lilac, and as the seconds rolled by, its shape formed: first, the main body, taller than a skyscraper as it flaunted a rounded head; next came the arms, lanky and flexible like a rubber band as the ends threatened with pointed claws; lastly, the face, the design like that of a cartoonish ghost as divine-like yellow light shined through.
The being grinned.
The color drained from Joanna's face.
"What do we have here?" the creature asked, its syllables echoing. "A couple of lost little chicks?"
"M-Mr. Snatcher," Agatha choked.
"Ho-oh~? If it isn't Miss Agatha. I didn't expect to find you around these parts."
"Mr. Snatcher?" Banda repeated.
"He works with my dad," Agatha explained. "Or at least, in the same company. He's one of the best for gathering souls."
"G-G-Gatherin' s-souls?" Joanna asked. "Like, the one in my body?"
The living shadow, Mr. Snatcher, salivated at the tiny human.
"My, this night just gets better and better," he said. "With you, I'll be able to double my quota."
Joanna's forehead went blue, and she collapsed to her butt.
"Why are you here?" Agatha asked.
"That's what I wanna ask you," Mr. Snatcher countered. "I've been watching you this entire time, from the moment you stepped foot into this town. You kiddies shouldn't be here. It's dangerous."
"W-We got permission from my dad."
"Is that so? Then why isn't he with you right now? Malak is the definition of 'overprotective,' so I doubt he'd let his sweet little girl wander off on her own."
Agatha bit her tongue, her desperation gripping her throat.
"The jig is up, chicklings," Mr. Snatcher told them. "You had your fun, but now, it's time to go home."
But we're so close.
MC is right there.
We can't stop. Not yet.
"Please, Mr. Snatcher," Banda begged, "don't tell our parents. We're not here to mess around."
"Not mess around? Can you really say that considering what you're wearing?" He gestured to the maid outfits.
The mummy girl blushed. "These are . . ."
Mr. Snatcher pointed to Wolfette (who still chewed like there was no tomorrow). "Then there's you, who cleaned out that restaurant's entire stock! How the heck did you walk away without even paying?"
The wolf girl let loose her smugness.
"I'm just that good," she said.
The phantom crossed his arms. "As far as I can tell, you all were having a grand ol' time!"
"That's not true . . ." Agatha said softly.
"What was that?"
"I said, it's not true!" She grimaced. "I've been worried about MC this entire time! I've been worried about what they'll say when they see me! I've been worried about whether or not they still even like me! This is the farthest I've ever had from having fun!"
"Agatha . . ." Banda whispered.
MC? Isn't that the mortal Malak was talking about a couple days ago? That babysitter or whatever? Aren't those things replaceable?
But as Mr. Snatcher became absorbed in the demon girl's willpower—her unwavering resolve to meet this person once again—he found the answer to his question.
"So," the phantom said, "you didn't come to the mortal world to have fun?"
"Not one bit," Banda answered.
Mr. Snatcher examined their visages, and finding no faults, he accepted their claims.
"Fine. I won't give you up to your parents. But you have to promise me that you'll never come here again. Understood?"
Agatha wiggled her toes with joy.
"Yes, sir!" she said. "We won't ever do it again!"
Mr. Snatcher shifted his attention to the teenage girl.
"As for you . . ." he began.
Joanna's teeth chattered,
right as the mummy girl stomped over to protect her.
"P-Please don't hurt her, Mr. Snatcher," Banda pleaded. "This mortal helped us out when we were in a pinch. She's a good person."
"I don't care how good she is! A soul is a soul!"
Still, the frail mummy refused to budge.
Mr. Snatcher had second thoughts.
Well, she did keep an eye on Miss Agatha. By that standard, Malak would be all over her.
The phantom sighed.
"Oh, all right," he groaned. "The girlie there gets to keep her soul."
Banda beamed, whereas Joanna could barely un-jellify her knees.
"However!" Mr. Snatcher lifted a finger. "Don't think that you'll be getting away scot-free. Everything has a price, and you have to pay yours."
"What do you want?" Agatha asked.
"Simple. I want you to be friends with my daughter. Er, sort of my daughter. May or may not have her soul in my possession, but let's forget the details.
"Anyways, she goes to the same school as you. She's even in the same grade. Loves to wear hats."
"I think I know who you're talking about," Banda said. "Is the hat purple?"
"It is! It is! That one is my little Heni's favorite!"
(T-minus five to the arrival of the next doting daddy.)
"She isn't much of a talker," Mr. Snatcher explained. "But she is a sweetheart. I'm sure she'll warm right up to you."
To the phantom's delight, the monster girls gave neither bark nor groan.
"We'll be her friends," Agatha said, smiling.
The others nodded in agreement.
"Excellent!" Mr. Snatcher clapped his hands together, crafting pieces of parchment that floated over to the little ones. "If I can just have you sign these contracts, we'll be all set!"
And so they did, stamping their fingerprints into the corners of their respective papers.
Even Joanna received a contract, although Mr. Snatcher explained that hers held . . . different circumstances.
"You better keep your end of the deal," he told her. "Otherwise, your soul is mine."
"Y-Ya got it," Joanna whimpered, surely trying her best not to cream her jeans.
After collecting the paperwork, Mr. Snatcher relished his satisfaction.
"Alrighty!" he said. "You all are now free to go! Remember: don't let me catch you back here on your own. Otherwise"—his face twisted into pure vileness—"we're gonna have a problem."
The young demons simply nodded, whereas the human gave it her all to not pass out.
"Goodbye now, my fellow monsters!" Mr. Snatcher said. "May you find what you're looking for!"
With that, he clapped his hands once more, and as if reality thrived on a film reel, the scene flashed, delivering the quintet away from the sinister realm.
But rather than returning to the back streets of the town, the group found itself between a railing overlooking a parking lot and a row of windows and metal doors.
"Where are we now?" Banda asked.
By now, Joanna's fright had dialed down (although her legs still quivered like jello).
"I-It looks like we're at Central's apartments." She gestured towards the massive collection of buildings across the street. "See? The university is just over there."
She knelt down to rub her fingers against the floor.
"This is real, right? Not another arena?"
Agatha's ears twitched.
University?
Right on cue, Wolfette's nostrils went nuts, and she sniffed like a cracked-out hyena.
She followed the scent over to the last door visible.
"Agatha!" she said. "Agatha! Agatha! They're here! I can smell them!"
"You mean MC?" Banda asked.
The wolf girl nodded frantically.
Agatha, on the other hand, felt her muscles stiffen, her breaths shorten.
MC . . . is here?
The quintet huddled around the apartment's entrance.
"Mr. Snatcher must've known where you wanted to be," the mummy girl guessed. "Are you sure, Wolfette?"
"Positivimundo! It smells just like the piece of paper Agatha showed me."
Hesitation curled around the lead demon girl, the manacles tight around her ankles.
This is it, she thought. They're just on the other side. This is what we've been working towards.
Why, then, can't I move?
Why am I so afraid . . . to face them?
She imagined the disgust on her favorite mortal's face, the disappointment they would drown in as they saw her.
Was this really the right thing to do?
Her answer arrived as soon as her friends patted her on the back, urging her to march onward.
A faceless face of encouragement.
"You can do it."
"You got this, sista!"
"Just show 'em your charm as a maid."
Her confidence charged, Miss Agatha headed for the finish line.
She gave the door a knock.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Even though the tapping couldn't have been any lighter, the vibrations still boomed in my ears, pounding away at the space between.
I lay in my bed, more languid than a corpse as my fatigue broke me to bits.
Headache after headache after headache.
Sore throat.
Leaky nose.
You name it; I had it.
I pulled my blanket over my head.
Probably just a newsletter.
They'll leave eventually.
They waited and waited, yet nothing changed.
Agatha sighed.
Are they really not coming?
Joanna snatched the spotlight.
"Ya gotta be assertive," she told the girls. "I gotchu."
She balled up her fist.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
My heart nearly exploded from my chest.
Jeezums! What the hell was that? It's just a freakin' newsletter.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
Really? Is that what we're doing?
Fine, have it your way. But I'm gonna give you the meanest glare in the damn universe.
Despite my body's many protests, I lifted myself to my feet, and with my blanket wrapped around me like fluffy armor, I dragged myself over to the entrance.
Can't I ever catch a break?
Now in position, I twisted the doorknob and gave a pull.
The door swung open.
Their eyes met.
My chin dropped to my toes.
"A-Agatha?" I asked.
Why is she dressed like a maid?
The tiny demon girl had no words, her mind racing as she finally, finally came face-to-face with her babysitter.
"MC?"
Everyone else looked at me like I was a living myth.
"What's going on? Why's everyone—"
Wham!
As rough as a cheetah, Agatha pounced onto me, pinning me to the ground.
That. Just. Hurt.
My butt cried as it slammed against the wooden floorboards.
"Ow!" I whimpered. "What're you—"
My message crumbled as I looked to the demon girl, as I saw her teardrops drip down into my shirt.
"You jerkface," she whispered. Then, a little louder. "You're a jerkface, MC! Why did you leave!? Why didn't you say goodbye!? You just threw me away, even when I loved you so much!"
She clung close to me, starving for my warmth.
The others frowned, their own sadness resonating.
"I don't really know what's going on," I said, "but I think you have the wrong idea."
"How could I?" Agatha asked. "You left because you hate me, right? Because you hate us monsters. You're sick of us."
"Agatha, look at me."
The little girl lifted her head, and what she saw made her tingle from head to toe, made her realize just how lucky fate had made her:
Her favorite mortal, smiling, acknowledging that she was a sun glistening across their universe.
I stroked her hair.
"I'm not sick of you. I'll never be sick of you. I said it before and I'll say it again: I love you very much, and I wouldn't leave you for the worlds."
My favorite monster girl trembled, my syllables brushing against her heartstrings.
She gave no reply, merely hugging me tighter as she sobbed into my chest.
"It's okay." I rubbed her head. "It's okay. You don't have to cry."
The mummy girl joined the mix.
"I-If you don't mind my asking," she said, "why haven't you been babysitting?"
"I'm sick," I explained. "I've had the flu for a couple days now. Getting a little better, though."
"You're sick?" Agatha asked.
"Yeah. Didn't your dad tell you?"
"He"—a sniff—"He just said you had something important to do."
I sighed.
Someday, I won't have to deal with stupid people.
Someday.
"I'll be back soon," I said. "Probably around next week."
"Really? You'll see me again?"
I grinned. "Sista, whether you like it or not, we're gonna be together for a while."
Through a messy face, Agatha beamed.
"I love you, MC."
"Love you too, Agatha."
Just like that, the mood swirled to a lighter tone, where happiness glided like elegant doves.
We had the whole gang here:
Banda (who couldn't stop staring at my TV);
Wolfette (who had been eating since I opened the door);
Little Slendy (her tentacles super duper wiggly);
and a teenage girl.
Regular.
Like me.
Wait . . .
Tentacles.
Regular.
Tentacles.
Regular.
Those two words should not be together.
"Meredith!" I cried. "Arms! Your arms!"
Little Slendy merely tilted her head in confusion, whereas my fellow mortal raised her hand.
"It's okay," she said. "I know all about 'em."
Her face said it all:
"I've seen some sh*t."
I remember when I used to have that face.
You get used to it.
"Well," she said, "I'm happy y'all got what ya were lookin' for, but I need to get going. Shop needs me."
A smile.
"Good luck, MC person."
"Wait, that's not my—"
Aaaaaaaaand she was gone, shutting the door behind her.
At this rate, I'm gonna have to change my birth certificate.
Joanna leaned against the metal, her brain still trying to comprehend the madness that had played before her.
I see now what ya meant by "this world."
I think I've got a lot to look forward to.
First things first, though; where can I find a good hat to give?
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
Four.
Agatha refused to let go of me.
"Um, Miss Agatha," I said, "I need to get up."
Because of my illness, she apparently weighed more than a mechanical rhino.
"No," she hissed playfully. "You owe me a lot of lovin'."
Thankfully, Miss Banda came to the rescue.
"MC," she said, her eyes dazzling, "is that what I think it is?"
The item in question: my Super Nintendo resting beneath my TV stand.
"Yes?" I guessed. "You think it's a game, right?"
"Not just any game. A Super Nintendo! My dad told me all about it. It's the best system on the market!"
Ever hear of Xbox? Playstation? Atari?
The mummy girl bowed her head.
"M-May I please play it?"
"I don't see why not," I answered. "I have Mario if you wanna try it out."
That sentence supercharged her.
And so, we huddled around my gaming setup, Agatha planted on my lap as these monster girls jammed out on classic Nintendo entertainment.
We also ordered pizza, but Wolfette scarfed down half of it before I could even put the box down.
Through it all, I managed to come to a single conclusion:
I missed this.