"I'm gonna say it."
"Don't say it."
"I'm gonna say it."
"Don't say it."
. . .
. . .
. . .
"Told you so."
Thump!
"Ow."
We rode the ascending elevator—myself (the new and not-improved mortal!) and the smol demon Agatha (who apparently had the meanest right hook in all of the monster dimension).
"It didn't have to get physical," I told her, rubbing my arm.
"I gave you the warning," she replied, smug. "Iz not my fault you— Achoo!"
There it was: the third or fourth explosion of germs in the past ten minutes alone.
I fished out a tissue from my pocket and covered Agatha's nose.
"Gimme a blow," I said.
And she did, blasting one side of the paper with droplets of snot.
"I'm tired," she groaned. "I wanna take a nap."
I know that feeling.
"Should've listened to me," I pointed out. "I said go home after a few levels, but noooo. You wanted to clear every inch of Super Mario before the sun could come up."
"But we were kicking serious butt," Agatha argued. "The goombas couldn't touch Banda!"
"Yeah? Well, it looks like the goombas had the last laugh."
More drippings leaking from her nostrils.
I offered another tissue.
"Blow."
More snot to cling to my fingertips.
"It's your fault," Agatha said. "You're a mortal. Your sickness shouldn't have touched me."
"Yes, of course. I should've told my flu to stay down. 'Down boy! Down!'"
You sound just like your dad.
I rolled my eyes, remembering the earful Papa Malak hammered into me.
"How could you do such a thing to my sweet angel!?"
"You should be ashamed!"
"I'm docking your pay!"
Apparently, I'm the one to blame, even when I was at home minding my own business.
And I can't stress this enough: You can't dock my pay IF YOU'RE NOT PAYING ME AT ALL.
You ruddy jack*ss.
"You should feel lucky," I said. "I was so sick that I nearly passed out trying to make a ham sandwich."
"You sure you just weren't super hungry?" Agatha asked.
"Believe me: the day you catch me starving, you will not find me struggling for a sandwich. Chicken alfredo to the rescue!"
"Was that what was in the cups you gave us?"
". . . No. That was Top Ramen. A peasant's bread and butter. Still good, though."
Ding!
Right on time, the elevator doors slid apart, revealing a hallway whose rails overlooked the main lobby down below. Elegant lamps hung from the beige walls, accompanied by various chandeliers clinging to the ceiling like pompous clouds.
"I have to admit," Agatha said as we strolled forward, "I didn't know mortal food could be so good! I might have to put it just a little below Daddy's dread paninis."
I raised an eyebrow.
Judging by the name alone, I'd say he's already beat.
When she had paid me a visit, Agatha filled me in on her little adventure through the town.
"You're one pretty lucky gal," I told her. "Getting to eat at a Ma & Pa restaurant on your first real visit. When I moved here from my hometown, I had to share a plate of breadsticks on my first night."
I'd never seen so many double dippers.
Shame to all of you.
"You mean, where we went to wasn't your house?" Agatha asked.
"Nah. That's just my dorm. My actual house, where my mom and dad are, is in a city a few hours away. Should probably visit 'em soon. Haven't seen 'em in a while."
In-between the throbbing headaches, the demon girl had fantasies racing through her mind.
MC's parents . . .
Once at the end of the walkway, Agatha and I arrived at a pair of towering glass doors, the sign Mercy's Medical hanging towards the top.
I opened the door for Agatha.
"After you, sick little lady."
"Why, thank— Achoo!"
Another round with the tissues.
Then, the continuation as the two of us carried ourselves into the clinic, which more or less appeared the same as the ones I would visit as a kid. Cushioned chairs lined themselves against the walls, with tiny tables planted in-between, their tops occupied with stacks of magazines. However, rather than those basic toys (the ones with those shapes you'd move along the lines), this clinic had bones lying around, inviting any and all for a little chew. (Not very sanitary, I must say.)
Oh, and the patients weren't exactly my usual cup of tea, but I guess you could already figure that one out.
We made our way to the receptionist's area, where not a single soul was present to greet us.
I scanned the circular desk.
"Is there a bell we're supposed to push?" I wondered. "Or are we supposed to cry out for help?"
"What do you take us for? Savages?"
My skin crawled as a disembodied voice spiraled into my eardrums—a reaction that only intensified as the head of phantom-like cat appeared before us. Type: Tabby, the main shade gray with stripes of crisp blue running throughout. A fusion of aqua and jade thrived in its eyes, brandishing a sort of mystical glow.
"It's called 'patience,' odd one," the creature said. "Ever heard of it?"
It grinned a mischievous grin, wider than any of my hopes or dreams.
Never thought I'd see the day a cat's head gave me advice on manners.
But you see something new every day.
A moment later, though, and the rest of the feline actualized into sight, revealing its chubby physique as it levitated in the air.
"Ghost cats," I uttered. One more time. "Ghost cats. Right."
"You look like you're going mad," the feline said. "Don't worry, you're not crazy. You just have a different kind of reality."
I can do without the Aristotle quotes, thank you.
Agatha, on the other hand, couldn't have acted more normal.
"Hello, Mr. Cheshire," she said.
Mr?
"Why, if it isn't dear ol' Agatha," the cat said. "Your father told us you would be coming. How are you feeling?"
"Like I wanna take a thousand-year nap."
Mood.
"Worry not, my girl," Mr. Cheshire said. "We'll have you feeling better in no time. The Good Doctor will be ready in a few moments, so if you could take your seat over there with MC, I would very much appreciate that."
"I didn't say my name," I pointed out.
The feline's smile widened. "I know who you are. We all do."
Whether he meant that as a compliment or not, I wasn't sticking around to find out, and I dragged myself and Agatha over to the cushioned chairs.
"Gosh, I hope I'm not famous," I groaned. "The last thing I need is for some assassin chef to nab me in the middle of the night."
"Relax," Agatha said. "If someone was gonna take you, they'd chomp you on the spot."
"Thanks?"
I will say, it's been a while since I started coming here. Aside from the usual jokes about demons wanting to eat my face, I think I'm finally getting used to things around here.
I turned my head to find a little boy with blood dribbling down his chin gazing at me, his eye sockets hollow.
Never mind.
Never . . . Never mind.
A while later and I noticed just how fidgety Agatha grew, her claws quivering like cracked-out cicadas.
"You all right?" I asked her. "Not a big fan of the doctor?"
"N-No," she answered. "No, nothing like that."
She squeezed the words out like fresh orange slices.
"When . . . When we came to visit you, MC . . . Did you have fun?"
Her face said it all: Her mood was the Titanic, and my answer was the impending iceberg.
I kindly pat her on the head.
"I did. I had a great time."
The demon girl smiled small, her cheeks reddening.
After that heartwarming moment, and after the clock's hands flickered a bit, Mr. Cheshire let us know that Agatha's doctor could see us now. Ergo, we left behind the boy with the bloody chin (who still wanted to stare at me for some reason) and headed into the back area. A right turn at the hall's end and through the final door and bam, we arrived at the patient room, which, spoiler alert, looked just like the ones I visited as a child. They even had that really tall table that had the paper stretching over it. You know, the one your butt cheek would shred apart if you weren't careful.
No?
Just me?
Okay.
Usually, a parent would help their child onto said table, but thanks to Agatha's lengthy arms, she perched herself on the edge with ease.
Then, we waited.
I glanced around at the childish posters hung upon the walls.
"A STEP A DAY KEEPS THE WEIGHT AWAY!"
"DO YOU KNOW ABOUT MONSTROUM DISEASE?"
"BE YOUR MYTHICAL BEST!"
That's the sort of message I was expecting.
Along the countertop towards the side of the room sat a pair of lavender flowers swaying happily in their pots.
This place is really inviting. I can see how Agatha hasn't lost her cool. Either that or she's just one brave little nugget.
"You seem awfully collected," I pointed out. "Normally, kids your age would be terrified of going to the doctor. I know I was."
Agatha flashed her smugness.
"I ain't afraid of no doctor," she claimed. "Each visit is easy peasy! Don't get me started on the dentist, though."
"You . . . You go to the dentist?"
"But of course!" She shined her rotted teeth. "Can't you see how healthy I am?"
Your definition of healthy is very different from mine.
But before I could wonder whether or not today was Opposite Day, the door to the room swung open, and in waltzed a slim humanoid creature dressed like a witch doctor from olden days.
"Good morning," he said, his voice fluent like verbal cursive.
"Good morning, Doctor 049," Agatha said politely.
049? Don't get names like that every day.
The doctor set down his stack of folders on the counter, then went to shake my hand.
"I see you're not her usual guardian," he noted.
"Babysitter," I explained. "Mr. Malak is at work right now, so I came in his place."
"Ah, you must be MC. I've heard a lot about you, specifically that you shouldn't . . . be tested upon."
A chill scurried across my arm.
Heh?
The good doctor accepted his comment as commonplace, shifting his attention back to Agatha.
"So, what seems to be the problem today?" he asked.
"My head hurts. A lot," Agatha explained. "My nose is runny. I feel really tired."
"We think she might have what I had." I explained what I had come to call Monster Night at my dorm.
"I see, I see." Doctor 049 did the usual examination procedures, his gloves fitted tight as he gave Agatha's germs the fright of their lives.
And only after he had finished did he offer his conclusion.
"Well, my dear, you are sick," he said. "There's no doubt about that. But it's not the illness you're thinking of."
"You mean, she doesn't have the flu?" I asked.
"Not exactly. She did catch whatever you were carrying, but the virus did not translate in her body as it did for yours. She has a mutation, commonly known as 'mortalis.'"
Sounds like an anime villain.
"Am I gonna be okay?" Agatha asked, genuinely worried.
"Not to worry, my dear," the doctor assured her. "We can treat it as any other common illness. Just get some rest and take the medication I'll prescribe to you and you'll be chasing the mortals again in no time."
To me: "No offense."
"None taken?"
And thus, Doctor 049 scribbled us out a prescription and sent us on our way, also providing me with written instructions on what kinds of foods and drinks Agatha should take to help her feel better. Of course, the text looked like a mishmash of garbage to me, but I figured the items didn't stray far from fruits and soups.
We made our way out of the clinic (Mr. Cheshire grinning like a mad cat at our departure), and, with the help of my super-duper compass, we arrived back at Agatha's house. As expected, Malak was nowhere to be seen; however, like the good doctor, he, too, left me a note with instructions. However, however, his words followed the trend of sweet, sweet English.
"MC,
here is what you need to do while I'm away.
Don't slack! And you better keep my little girl happy!
1) Buy ingredients for marrow stew (you should know them by now).
2) Go to HellKnight Pharmacy to pick up her medicine.
3) Go to Monsters R Us and buy her a present.
Your budget is at the bottom of this note.
A patch of metal coins had been taped at the paper's bottom edge.
I stroked my chin. "Looks like I have my work cut out for me."
I led Agatha to her bedroom to tuck her in, and in a matter of seconds, her sleepy face blossomed, and she began to frolic amidst her island of dreams.
"MC . . ." she whispered. "Come back . . . These are for you."
I smiled.
"I'll be back," I said softly, and after kissing her on the forehead, I left the house, my resolve firm.
Just like old times. (Er, sort of.)
I had just strolled through the entrance of a good ol' demon-infested Wal Mart, a shopping basket in my hand as item number one on Malak's list rolled around in my head.
Marrow stew. Marrow stew.
We came here for that last time, right? Or was it for blood pudding?
. . . I can't believe I just asked that.
How the frick am I supposed to remember the ingredients, anyway? My diet consists of ramen and breadsticks, not this fine dining (by monster standards, of course).
My head in the sand, I began to amble aimlessly through the aisles of the store, scanning each and every product eating dust on the shelves. My thinking: the ingredients would jump at me, like Oh, that looks like marrow stew material.
No luck.
I came across it all—spider knuckles, juicy hearts, phantom essence (don't ask). Heck, I even managed to find bone broth of the delectable symbiote victims. But as the burnt guy with the finger-knife glove told me, I needed a different kind of bone ingredient. (I would've asked for his help but, you know, finger-knife glove.)
My hope of ever leaving this place fluttered to where the stars dimmed.
But just before it could wither away completely, Lady Fate decided to toss me a lifeline: a pair of individuals, one tall, one short, both donning blank faces as tendrils sprouted from their backsides.
"Ah," I uttered, spotting them at the other end of the aisle.
The Slendermans.
Immediately, Little Slendy spotted me, and after letting go of her dad's hand, she raced forward to lend me a hug.
"Hi," I said, rubbing her head. Then, to Uncle Slenderman: "Hello," accompanied with a bow of my head.
The figure in the crisp suit returned the gesture, pleased to find me.
"I didn't expect to find you guys here," I admitted.
Little Slendy stepped back to gesture towards the shopping cart her father pushed. A tiny mountain of groceries greeted me, with enough food to take slender out of their identities.
"The usual trip?" I guessed.
They nodded.
Little Slendy pointed to my empty basket.
"Me?" I asked. "Malak wants to get some stuff for marrow stew for Agatha. She's sick right now. You didn't catch anything I had, did you, Meredith?"
Little Slendy shook her head, but then, Uncle Slenderman patted her with his tendril, prompting them both to bow respectfully. Despite their faceless faces, I could see the guilt they carried.
"Don't worry about it," I assured them. "I didn't mind the visit. Just didn't want them to get sick is all. Really, I didn't mind."
Uncle Slenderman straightened his back; Little Slendy, however, clung to her disappointment.
I stroked her hair.
"I think it was thanks to you guys that I felt better so quick," I said. "Thank you, Meredith."
Finally, the adorable girl of the tentacles lifted her spirits, hugging me once more.
Idea time.
"Um," I said. "If it isn't too much trouble, would you guys mind helping me with the marrow stew? I have no clue what I'm supposed to get."
To my delight, both Slendermans complied happily; Little Slendy even shook her fists with determination.
Ergo, they led me around the store, pulling items off the displays to bury into my grocery basket. With each piece of the recipe, I found myself realizing just how out-of-luck I would've been without the Slendermans' help.
Dragon tears.
Shadow essence.
Marrow of the yeti. (Found the "marrow" part.)
He wanted me to remember these things?
Why do I get the strange feeling my employer is trying to set me up?
In any case, over half an hour later, I joined the Slenderman family at the checkout lines. Sort of. They went to greet one of the cashiers (an animatronic fox with a hook for a hand) while I beelined it for self-checkout. No way was I gonna be sucked into the trap of corporate-mandated conversation. Scarier than the monsters, I reckoned.
Eventually, I ended up at the front of the store, and after a nod of goodbye from Uncle Slenderman and a hug of goodbye from his lovely daughter, I found myself with no one but my bags of groceries.
"Two coins left," I said, looking over my remaining budget. "Hopefully toys don't cost a fortune here."
"I don't think they do."
Suddenly, a voice popped behind me, and the hair on my head spiked up as I jumped back.
Jeezums!
But rather than being chomped through on the spot, I came face to face with a teenage girl—human. Green eyes. White bowtie in the hair. Slim figure.
I thought I was done for.
"Hello," the girl said, her smile glistening as her cheeks reddened. "We meet again, MC."
Oh, dear Lord, please tell me her name.
I hurled myself into my wires of memories, pinching each until the right one zapped my fingertips.
"Hi, Monika," I said.
Her joy doubled. "You remembered my name! Thank you very much!" Her attention slid towards my groceries. "Getting some shopping done?"
"Y-Yeah. Agatha's sick, so I'm getting stuff to help her."
"That's right. You're a babysitter."
Wouldn't be here otherwise. I don't think Bigfoot Bites really compare to good ol' Reese's Pieces, ya know?
"What about you?" I asked. "What brings you here?"
That's what normal people say, right?
"Me?" Monika dragged my focus to the box of cupcakes in her hand. "My friend Natsuki sent me here. She needed references for her baking, and seeing as how I had no plans today, I figured I'd lend her a hand."
"That's very generous. Er, wait, nice. No, wait . . ."
Please, social awkwardness.
Pleeeeeeaaaaaaase.
The schoolgirl simply giggled.
"I suppose so," she said.
New topic.
"Are you heading back to Agatha's now?"
"Nah. I still need to finish this to-do list Malak gave me. I have to get to a pharmacy, but honestly, I have no clue where it is."
And of course, I didn't think to ask Uncle Slenderman before he left. Common sense is apparently not so common for yours truly.
"A pharmacy?" Monika asked. "Which one?"
I fished out Malak's instructions.
"HellKnight," I answered.
"Oh, I know where that is! Shouldn't be too far from here. I can show you the way if you'd like!"
"But don't you have to get those cupcakes back to your friend?"
"She'll be fine," Monika assured. "I don't think she needs them right away. Besides . . ." She stepped closer, putting her nose inches from mine. ". . . I'd rather spend time with you."
My cheeks went blazing.
"R-Right," I uttered. "I-In that case, pleasure to work with you."
The teenage girl nodded, ecstatic, then proceeded to guide me towards a questionably named pharmacy.
I mean, HellKnight? Sounds like an RPG boss.
Along the way, Monika decided to help me another way: by snapping away the burden of carrying my bags everywhere. Apparently, even though she appeared human through and through, she proved that she belonged in this dimension by digitizing my belongings. Literally. She transformed the bags into pixels, which she then transported into her personal space which she called "The Room."
"Don't worry," she told me. "You'll get them back just as I took them."
That's not what I'm worried about.
Along the way, she would toss me the typical icebreaker questions: What my favorite food was; how was college; did I have a lover; what was my favorite animal; how did I like my town; did I have a lover.
(Yeah, she asked that last one a lot.)
Thankfully, my awkwardness didn't slap me like a pimp. In fact, I only stumbled on three answers! Hehe, I may be a genius, after all.
Eventually, around the seventh time Monika poked about my romance did we finally make it to the HellKnight Pharmacy. Much like some of the other buildings I'd seen, this one swerved past my expectations, appearing as one that could nestle comfortably within my own town. Simple white bricks for the walls, followed by a curved roof composed of ceramic tiles. The parking lot (if that's what you'd call it) had barely any vehicles, and we saw only the occasional demon entering or leaving as we approached.
"This is the place," Monika said.
"You know, for a place called the HellKnight Pharmacy, I was expecting something with a little more . . . oomf."
"Oomf?"
"Yeah. Like, a castle that's not too crazy but crazy enough to where you think, 'Oh, that's a castle.' Or maybe a Minotaur guarding the door with a giant freakin' sword."
But as the nonsense kept spewing past my lips, and as Monika stated at me with a somewhat forced smile, I quieted down.
Or maybe I'm just thinking too hard.
Nonetheless, my compadre giggled.
"You're an odd one, MC," she said. She blushed. "Can't say I dislike that, though."
I copied her reaction.
"R-Right," I uttered. "Let's, um, let's go get that medicine."
"Mm!"
The two of us continued into the pharmacy, where our nostrils dove into the scents of what I could only describe as an "adult space." Not "adult" as in XXX ('cause I wasn't a pervert), but "adult" as in "no child would be caught dead prancing through these aisles." Our eyes feasted upon the shelves lined with medical supplies like Band-Aid boxes and gauze wrap. Thermometers snuggled with allergy pills, and ointments of all kinds waited to be pumped out.
But of course, this wasn't exactly like the pharmacy back home. Case in point: I was pretty sure "gremlin suppressants" weren't available in my neck of the woods. And would you look at that; those tiny beasts were already on standby to clean house.
Monika and I headed for the back of the pharmacy, where a line of elderly demons waited to speak with a consultant stationed behind a counter.
And would you believe, said consultant had familiarity running along his fur, his mischievous grin peeking as he and I made eye contact.
You work here too, huh?
The devilish cat widened his smirk, calming down only as the next customer approached.
"What's wrong?" Monika asked, noticing my cringe.
"N-Nothing," I answered. Then, underneath my breath: "I just thought I was done meeting weirdos for the day."
I swung the focus over to a new area.
"This is some line."
"You got that right," Monika agreed. "They must be getting their vaccines. It is flu season, after all."
At her mention, I noticed the demons shuffling in and out of the back room close by.
"I guess demons have to worry about this kind of thing too, huh?" I noted.
"Sure do. Although, being sick is rather uncommon in this world. Everyone believes in the power of vaccines, after all!"
Must be nice to not have stupid people among you.
One by one, the customers ahead of us dealt with their business. But just before we could have our turn, a wave of gasps arose from the entrance of the pharmacy.
"Huh?" I asked, looking around. "What's happening?"
A sort of gravity blended with the air, and I turned my head back just as Monika and the others did the same.
Before long, my attention pinned itself to the quartet of distinguished women ambling our way.
Two of them revealed themselves as servants, dressed in pristine maid outfits shaded scarlet. An alluring whiteness thrived in their skin, differing greatly from the blackness that swallowed the whites of their eyes. In the center glowed ghostly gray dots. Each carried an intricate spear, sharp enough to pierce the heavens.
Next came the towering woman, soaring easily past seven feet. Her skin fair, she flaunted a slim figure, having curves only where desired. A ponytail swayed from her head, as green as a withered forest, complementing well with the violet humming in her irises. She wore the outfit of a simple blouse and business skirt, letting show the crisp reptile scales glimmering across the tops of her arms. The bow to tie it all: a loose dragon tail protruding from her spine's bottom, stretching for several feet.
Last was the youngest of the pack: a young girl about half as tall as the others. Her frame thin, she showcased smooth, delicate skin, light like an alluring ghost. Short, frizzy hair spread across her head, dipping down only to her earlobes as it indulged in the hue of metallic silver. As for her eyes, they thrived in an orange more vivid than the purest of suns. She wore the clothing of a white sundress, permitting the masses to ogle at her compact dragon-like wings and devil-like tail.
They carried with them a dignified aura, as if the gods dropped to one knee to kiss their feet. Their lips never strayed from straightness, save the little girl's, which curled into a confident smile.
As the quartet approached back counter, the other customers stepped out of the way, with Monika urging me to do the same.
"Who are they?" I whispered.
"Miss Lamella," Monika answered. "She's the CEO of one of the largest soul gathering groups in the world."
Lamella? Haven't I heard that name before?
It took only seconds for the memory to slither back into my thoughts: A distressed Malak, his bones quivering as he uttered the same name.
That's his boss? I wondered, focusing on the dragon lady. I'm starting to get why he doesn't wanna make her mad.
One wrong move and even I thought my soul would perish like dispersed ash.
Mr. Cheshire grinned at the four as they arrived at his counter.
"Good evening, Miss Eragos." Reverence coated his words as he bowed his head. "It is an honor to have you bless our presence this fine day."
"Likewise, Cheshire," the dragon woman replied.
"What brings you to this establishment?"
"I'm here to pick up Madame Lamella's medication. I had been informed that it was sent to this location."
"Most certainly," Mr. Cheshire said. "Please excuse me while I search for it."
He floated back to the wide collection of pill bottles.
Wait a second. Miss Lamella isn't the dragon lady?
I eyed the loli.
It's her?
Apparently, the little girl read my mind, for with her smile still gleaming, she turned her head to gaze at me. And before the chills could freeze my skin cold, she approached me.
"Hello," she said, her voice light.
My throat clenched like a machine vise.
"H-Hi," I uttered. "Er, hello. Er, no. Your majesty?"
Time of death: Noon.
Method of death: Unbearable awkwardness.
But Miss Lamella uncaged no wrath, instead finding more pleasure in her mood.
"You're not like one of us, right?" she asked.
I swallowed hard the lump in my throat, unsure which answer would be in my favor.
The owner of the spotlight, however, didn't wait for my reply, bringing her hand with fingernails painted black up to my cheek, where she then caressed my face with love and care.
We stared at one another, her vibrant irises seeming to drown me.
"Mm," she hummed after a while. "You'll do just fine."
Miss Lamella let go of me, just as Mr. Cheshire returned to her assistant.
"Here you are, ma'am," he said, handing Miss Eragos a simple baggy. "I hope you find the contents to your satisfaction."
"As do I," the dragon lady said sternly.
With that, she began to walk away, prompting Miss Lamella to do the same, but not before the terrifying loli hovered upward to kiss me on the forehead.
"See you soon," she whispered.
She then joined her assistant and maids, and together, the four of them departed from the scene, allowing my heartbeats to slow from one billion pounds per hour to a measly one million.
I don't know what just happened, and I don't know how to feel about it.
Monika felt the same way.
"I didn't think you'd know Miss Lamella, MC," she said.
"Neither did I," I answered honestly.
Trying to cling onto normalcy once again, the two of us approached Mr. Cheshire to grab Agatha's meds. But the feline had his own two cents he wanted to toss.
"Well, well, well," he said, "aren't you quite the popular one, MC? Most demons would pay with their souls just to get a kiss from Miss Lamella."
"Please," I begged, "just get me Agatha's medicine."
"As you wish." His cheeky grin never vanished as he drifted back to the supplies, nor did it blink away as Monika and I finally removed ourselves from the pharmacy.
Two down on the checklist.
One to go.
By now, I just wanted to drop to the ground and take the mightiest naps. I knew deep down, however, that if I returned even the slightest bit empty handed, Malak would devour my soul, feast upon my flesh, yada yada yada.
Honestly, I could deal without the earful from people front and center on my "Wanna Punch in the Face" list.
My companion and I ambled through the town, my will to continue growing ever weaker, until we reached a fancy looking building composed of glass and metal. Its shape resembled that of a palace, and at the face of the structure, the block text Monsters R Us glowed red and blue.
"Homestretch," Monika said.
"Yep," I replied. "But knowing my luck, this experience is gonna be anything but straightforward."
The teenage girl patted me on the shoulder. "I got your back, Jack."
"Thanks."
We entered through the towering front doors, transporting ourselves from the simple atmosphere outside to a realm that defined a child's dream. Illuminated lamps hung from the ceiling, lighting up the shelves upon shelves of toys lined up, waiting to be purchased.
Necronomicons (children edition).
Victorian dolls (did that one just blink at me?).
And Rubik's cubes (where you'd get your very own pocket dimension upon completion).
Of course, those items were just the tip of the iceberg. Don't even get me started on Monopoly: Blood Ink Edition. Apparently, you could use remnants of your own soul as currency! Loser dies for real! Fun for the whole family!
"So, do you know what to get?" Monika asked.
The realization tumbled onto me like an anvil.
And here's where the "not straightforward" comes into play.
"Sure don't," I answered. "Malak didn't write what Agatha's favorite toy is. And believe it or not, I don't, exactly, keep that info loaded and ready to fire."
I reviewed the coins I still had left over from the grocery run.
"Maybe the toy costs exactly this much?"
"Or maybe it's within the budget?" Monika guessed.
I sighed. "Either way, I'm kinda screwed. The chances of me picking the right thing are about one in a million. Literally."
Monika smiled.
"Don't worry!" she said. "I'm sure we'll make it through this!"
I'd kill to have that giddy optimism of yours.
Monika scanned the toy store. "In any case, I'm sure she'd be happy with anything you gave her. We just have to find something she'd be interested in."
"Sounds better than just standing here."
And so, with my partner's help, we marched along the toy shelves, inspecting every nook and cranny for even the slightest hint of "Agatha would love this." Along the way, we bumped into a myriad of children, from a tiny Cthulhu to a kid version of that one monster that rose from the table. We even saw Wolfette! (Thankfully, though, we dodged her; was not in the mood for a lecture from her pops, who I could only presume was nearby.)
We had rummaged through thirty-plus aisles, and still, no luck. Nothing screamed "Agatha."
At least, not for me.
Right as my hope was about to sleep with the fishes, Monika pointed out a lone hand-sized box situated near the edge of a shelf.
"You think Agatha would like that?" she asked.
"What is it?" I countered. "Er, who is it?"
Inside the box sat a figurine of a character made up of crimson ooze, their claws and teeth sharpened as their whitened eyes delivered a vivid contrast.
"That's Carnage," Monika told me. "He's one of the big players in the Bash 'Em League. He also happens to be Venom's biggest rival."
"I'm pretty sure Agatha mentioned Venom when I went to her school. She must've been a fan."
"Then it looks like we have our find! It's a little over your budget, but I can pay the rest."
"Are you sure?"
Monika smiled. "Don't worry about it! Anything for a friend!"
I returned the expression.
"Thanks."
And with the finish line mere inches from my fingertips, I went to grab the toy.
Only my hand wasn't the only one hungry.
Right as I had a clasp on the box, another set of fingers gripped on the item. And turning my head, I found myself face to face with a behemoth of a man. His stature grand, he donned short red hair and side-burns, along with a distinctive under-bite. An emeraldness thrived in his irises, shielded by a pair of black, rectangular glasses. His outfit consisted of a white shirt with a red tie under a black waistcoat, as well as black pants with brown dress shoes.
"Um," I uttered.
The mystery man shared a similar opinion.
"My apologies," he said politely. "I was not expecting another pair of eyes to be on this product."
"No problem," I told him. "I'm not surprised. It, um, it looks pretty dank."
Am I cool and hip now?
"Indeed," the man said. "Dank, indeed."
Please don't repeat that.
I lifted the figurine from the shelf and nudged it his way. "If you think so, then you should have it. I can always find something else."
"I can't possibly do that," the man said, nudging the toy back to me. "You touched it first. Therefore, you should have it."
I nudged back. "No, no, you should have it. I insist."
The rebuttal. "Please, I implore you to take it." By now, his smile twitched with mild annoyance.
I took a hard breath through my nostrils.
"Take the goddamn toy."
We had stumbled upon the impasse, with each side opting to push, not pull, in this game of tug of war.
Then, a new annoyance, characterized by that despicable laughter.
"Upupupupu!"
Suddenly, from thin-freakin'-air, that damn two-faced teddy bear popped into the scene, right in-between the man and me.
"Look at this. Look at this. It would appear we have—"
Wham!
Like a lightbulb exploding into brightness, my instincts roared, and without a second thought, I bashed my foot into the bastard's chin, punting him across the aisle.
It took only a second for me to realize what I'd done.
"Ah. Oops."
But the teddy bear didn't wail with pain. Not in the slightest. Instead, as he landed back down, he humped the floor, doing the best worm I honestly had ever seen.
"That wasn't very nice, MC-Kun~," Monokuma said.
"My bad," I told him. "I didn't mean to."
Or maybe I did.
A couple seconds of dancing later and the teddy bear recovered fully, backflipping to be back on his feet.
"No worries, no worries," he said. "It happens. We just have to make sure something like that doesn't happen again. Otherwise . . ." His face twisted, his wickedness oozing as his scarlet eye dug into my sanity. ". . . we're gonna have a problem."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my annoyance dial still cranked to ninety-nine.
"S-Sorry," I offered.
And just like that, Monokuma's peppiness switched back on, and he strutted his stuff as he waltzed back up to the rest of us.
Monika bowed her head. "Good evening, Mr. Monokuma."
"Hello, hello, Monika," Monokuma said. "I see you're as beautiful as ever." He drooled as his sight feasted upon her budding curves. "You're growing more delicious by the day."
Oy. That's a high-school girl.
High. School.
The mystery man bowed his own head.
"I see you are well, Monokuma," he said.
"Likewise," the teddy bear replied, his zipper now zipped back up. (Pervert.) "I see you're still trying to add to your collection, Klaus."
"I am. As a matter of fact, this piece is the final one I need."
I tried to nudge the box back towards Klaus. "More of a reason why you should take it."
But Monokuma stopped me in my tracks, planting himself between Klaus and me like before.
"No, no, no~," he sang, a paw on either of us. "We can't have that, MC-kun. Not when the potential is higher than a turducken!"
A what?
"Potential?" Klaus asked.
"Without a doubt," Monokuma confirmed. "You both are trying to play Mr. Nice Guy, but let's be real: you both want the toy here, don't ya?"
"No, really," I said. "I can just find another—"
"You. Want. It. Don't. Ya?" Monokuma smushed his face against mine.
"S-Sure. Sure, I want it."
If that's what it'll take to get you away from me.
Monokuma beamed. "That's what I like to hear!
"And since ya two want something, you're gonna hafta fight for it! Now, I'd normally have ya two throw fisticuffs or somethin', but MC here is embarrassing just to look at!"
I'll kick you again.
Don't test me.
"Then, how do you propose we settle this?" Klaus asked.
"Well, that answer would be . . ."
Suddenly, all the lights in the store snapped shut, encasing us all in darkness.
But only for a moment.
When the luminance returned, Klaus and I discovered a tiny boxing ring on a stand placed between us, like the ones you'd use for Rock 'em, Sock 'em Robots.
Monokuma spread his arms to gesture. ". . . rock, paper, scissors!"
Come again?
"You want us to play . . . rock, paper, scissors?" I asked. "Are you serious?"
"Very serious," the teddy bear answered. "It's the perfect game! Plus, you have the perfect stage!"
Several customers had already gathered around, their curiosity piqued.
"You have us standing in the middle of the aisle," I said. "We can get away with this for about two minutes before we get thrown out."
"Oh, no need to worry about that," Monokuma assured. "The owner's a nice guy."
"How do you know that?"
"'Cause I'm the owner."
I sighed. Of course you are.
"No more being a principal?" I asked.
Monokuma wagged his finger. "Ya hafta diversify, MC-kun."
F*ck you.
But whereas my bones quivered with skepticism, Monika and Klaus were all about it.
"I see," the latter said, stroking his chin. "Brilliant as always, Monokuma."
The a*shole in disguise blushed. "I do try~."
For her part, Monika stepped up to the mini stage.
"If it's possible," she said, "I'd like to play in place of MC."
My eyes went wide.
What a plot twist.
Monokuma adjusted his monocle. (When did he . . . ?) "And do tell, Miss Monika. Why should I allow that?"
"Because it would be an even match," Monika explained. "MC is only human, whereas Mr. Klaus is from here, meaning he has an advantage right off the bat."
"I can promise you that I will not be using any underhanded tricks," Klaus assured.
"I don't think you will. I'm just saying that you have more in your arsenal that MC does."
The big man understood, and after a few strokes of the chin, Monokuma acquiesced.
"Alrighty, then!" he announced. "In that case, this RPS match will be between Klaus Von Reinherz and Monika Yandere!"
Klaus adjusted his tie while Monika smirked, both stepping up to the tiny boxing ring as the ever-growing crowd cheered.
"Don't worry, MC," my companion told me. "I'm getting you that figure."
I-It's not that serious.
Right?
Apparently, it was, since Klaus's expression had lost all traces of politeness, now hardened like a soldier's.
Now dressed in a referee's uniform, Monokuma gestured to the two contestants.
"All right, you two. I want a clean fight. No dirty tricks! You can, however, use whatever you have as a natural ability. Is everyone ready?"
Monika balled up her fist.
"I can't go down," she said. "Not here."
"My apologies, young lady," Klaus replied, curling his own fingers, "but this figure is coming home with me."
It's just a toy!
Regardless of my opinion, the tension in the air thickened, dense enough to slice through.
The mountainous man and teenage girl readied their hands as Monokuma raised his own.
"Ready . . .
"Three . . .
"Two . . .
"One . . .
"Go!"
Woosh!
Like comets crashing down, the hands of the rock-paper-scissorers thrust downward, landing mere centimeters from the boxing ring.
And the results . . .
Scissors - Rock
"And the winner of the first round is Klaus!" Monokuma roared. "Solid move to crush those scissors!"
The audience cheered as the big man readied himself for the next round.
On the other hand, Monika sucked her teeth.
"Please get ready for round two!" the referee instructed. "By the way, this series is a best of five. Two more for you, Klaus, and the toy is yours."
"I shall try my best."
And his efforts paid off, for as he and Monika threw their attacks, Klaus won once more, eviscerating the teenage girl's paper with his scissors.
"Unbelievable!" Monokuma cried. "He's snagged the second round, ladies and gentlemen! Could we be looking at a clean sweep?"
The crowd went wild.
But I became a tad bit nervous when I saw the many emotions flooding Monika's person.
I . . . I can't lose here. I have to prove to MC that I'm worthy. I have to prove to them that I'm worth their love. I can't fall! Not here!
My companion narrowed her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Klaus," she said, her voice low. "I can't let you have this match. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm gonna have to go all out!"
Monika widened her eyes, revealing the thin rings of light now surrounding her pupils, which had now become slits like a snake's.
"There it is!" Monokuma bellowed. "Monika'a special technique! Her Empress Eyes!"
"Empress Eyes?" I repeated.
"They're wicked!" I heard an audience member say. "Apparently, she was banned from trading card games because she'd always win!"
She's not cheating, right?
Reading my mind, Monokuma made the judgment: "I've determined them as a natural ability, so they're safe!"
"Woooo!" the crowd roared.
Now, I can see everything.
I know everything.
Sorry, Mr. Klaus, but the game's already over.
Monokuma went to signal, but right before his "Go," the girl envisioned it: the next frames of their existence, playing out like the inches of a film reel.
I throw.
He throws.
I'm simple.
He's sharp.
So, I'll be ruthless.
"Go!"
The contestants played their cards.
The results:
Rock - Scissors.
"Would you look at that!?" Monokuma cried. "Monika takes the round! She's not going down without a fight!"
The teenage girl appeared unfazed, same as the mountainous man.
"I'm not finished," Monika hissed.
"That makes two of us," Klaus agreed.
Monokuma went to signal the fourth round, and again, Monika came out on top, slicing her opponent's paper with her scissors.
"Monika wins again!" Monokuma announced. "Which means we are all tied up now, ladies and gentlemen!"
Monika cocked back her fingers, ready to drive the nail into the coffin.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Klaus," she said, "but we're done here. You can't beat me. Not when I know every move you're gonna make."
Klaus, however, kept his cool, finding himself intrigued by the teenage girl's prowess.
"Interesting," he noted. "Interesting, indeed. Your eyes, they remind of my own subordinate, especially when it comes to the power that you possess. He's young, just like you, but I have to admit that you're just a little bit more confident. My team and I have helped him control his abilities. Thoroughly. In other words . . ."
His expression darkened, his confidence unmoving. Imposing, even.
". . . you can't pull one over on me, young lady."
Despite the staleness staining the air, Monika kept her game face, determined to bring home the gold.
"We'll see about that."
Monokuma raised his hand, and Monika triggered her Eyes, playing in her mind the events that would unfold.
It's over, she decided.
"Go!"
The combatants hurled their weapons.
The result:
Paper - Paper
"What's this!?" the referee bellowed. "We have a draw, even with Monika's Empress Eyes!"
The girl's jaw hung.
"W-What?" she uttered. "How did you . . . ? But I saw . . ."
"A shame," Klaus said. "I thought I could counter, but not yet, I suppose."
That's impossible. I saw what he was going to play. Was it just dumb luck?
The two readied themselves once more.
And once again, Monika read the future, the rings of her eyes humming as their glow brightened.
"Go!" Monokuma ordered.
The contestants attacked.
The result:
Rock - Rock.
I . . . I don't believe it. It wasn't dumb luck.
Monika clenched her teeth, frustrated.
"How . . . ?" she whispered. "I can see into the future! I have the greatest advantage imaginable! So, how are you keeping up!?"
"The answer's quite simple," Mr. Klaus said. "Your eyes may be strong, but they weren't created by the gods, unlike my subordinate's."
Monika furrowed her brow.
No! No! No! I refuse to lose! I have to win! I have to prove myself to MC! I'm not a loser! Not like that little girl.
But Lady Fate had already denied her longing, creating a draw for every match thrown between Monika and Mr. Klaus.
Rock for rock.
Paper for paper.
Scissor for scissor.
They had only been going for five minutes, but in those seconds, the girl assumed ten eternities had come and gone.
Eventually, her eyes decided upon their betrayal, the rings of light flickering like a dying bulb.
"Out of juice?" Mr. Klaus asked. "Unfortunate. I was truly enjoying this bout of ours."
Not yet, the damaged girl growled. Not yet! I'm not done yet!
Monokuma prepared the round's start, and Monika mustered every ounce of her strength.
"I'm making it through this!" she cried.
Monokuma lowered his paw. "Go!"
The attacks lashed out, as impactful as waves of energy bashing into one another.
The result:
Rock - Paper.
The bullet had landed.
"We have our winner!" Monokuma announced, raising Klaus's arm like a boxer victorious. "Klaus has defeated Miss Monika, even with her Empress Eyes! The Carnage toy is his for the taking!"
The mountainous man savored his victory as the crowd erupted in applause.
Meanwhile, Monika dropped to her knees, her disbelief hanging over her like a rain cloud.
I . . . lost? Me? Monika?
She turned her head to MC, fully expecting them to ridicule her. But instead, the mortal gave her a thumbs-up and a smile.
"Don't mind," they said.
The teenage girl's heart fluttered.
I swung lazily on the swing set, a playground surrounding me as the sun kissed the horizon.
Every muscle in my body wanted to shut off, and my brain tiptoed to a boiling point.
What I would do for a bag of chips and some Netflix right about now.
Wish, granted.
Sort of.
Suddenly, I felt something cold press against my cheek, courtesy of Monika who handed me a can of grape soda.
"Thanks," I said, accepting the gift. The fizz played lovely notes as I cracked open the top.
Monika took a seat beside me.
"It's been one hectic day, huh?" she asked.
"'Hectic' would be an understatement," I answered. "From being nearly seduced by a demon to watching the universe's most intense game of rock, paper, scissors, I'd say today was definitely a day I hadn't had before."
And that's saying something.
"Yeah. And you got to end it with a laugh!"
"A laugh?"
Monika simpered. "You got to see just how stupid I looked. I made a pretty big fool out of myself."
"Is that what you'd call it? 'Cause you looked pretty cool to me."
Instantly, my companion's pity vanished as she blushed.
"I . . . looked cool?" she asked.
"As cool as someone can look playing rock, paper, scissors," I said.
"But . . . I lost."
"So? Winning isn't everything. As long as you tried your hardest, that's what really matters. And it looked to me that you were doing just that. Heck, it even looked like you were having fun. So don't go beating yourself up, Miss Empress Eyes."
In that moment, the teenage girl understood exactly why she loved this mortal so, evident by her blazing cheeks and heart that wouldn't quit its rapid beats.
"Hey, MC," she said.
"Hm?"
"Do you have anyone you're interested in?"
"This question again? You've asked me this, like, twelve times. Believe it or not, the answer's still 'No.'"
"But why? You're such a great person. Anyone would be lucky to have you."
I set my gaze to the skies.
"I guess . . . I just don't have the time," I told her. "I have college, which is constantly drowning me in paperwork. Then, I have Agatha, who I have to watch over; otherwise, Malak will shred my soul to pieces."
Which, after saying so many times, kinda sounds normal now.
"I get that," Monika said. "But why don't you just leave Agatha, anyways? I'm sure it'd be easy to hide from Malak. And no offense, but Agatha kinda seems like a pain in the butt."
"Oh, she is. One hundred percent. She never lets me do my homework. She always wants to play, even when I'm tired. She makes me feel dumb seventy percent of the time. And her laugh . . . Don't even get me started on that."
I smiled.
"But I can tell she really cares about me. My world used to be so gray before she came along. She's brought me to where the rainbows shine, even when I didn't bother looking for them. She tries her best all the time, and even when things are going south, she keeps her head up. She's a brave little monster girl, and I'm proud to have her as my friend."
The memories rolled through like lilies swaying in a beautiful meadow.
"Agatha's a pain in the ass, but she's my pain in the ass, and I wouldn't trade her for anything."
The teenage girl studied her beloved's expression, the sincerity blooming steadily. In the end, she decided that some daisies were worth picking at a later day.
"I can see that you really love her," Monika said.
"Always," I replied. "She's the best little sister I could've asked for."
"In that case, you make sure to keep her safe." She handed me a can of juice. "And tell her I said sorry. She's not a loser."
Before my questions could spill, Monika rose to her feet and stretched.
"Why don't we call it a day?" she suggested. "I'm sure you have many more babysitting duties ahead of you."
I stood tall. "You got that right."
My partner for the day gave me a hug. Then, after handing me back my grocery bags, we went our separate ways.
Back at La Casa del Babysitting, I was greeted as soon as I stepped through the door, Agatha's warmth blending with mine as she hugged me in silence.
"I see you're awake," I said. "Sorry it took so long."
She wouldn't let go for a solid two minutes.
When she finally did, we settled ourselves on the couch in the living room, watching a cooking show as I handed her the can of juice and some snacks.
"I'm sure you're starving," I said. "Once your dad comes back, he'll cook you up your marrow stew."
Agatha nodded, then laid her head on my lap.
"Thank you for taking care of me," she whispered.
I caressed her head.
"That's what babysitters are for."
Malak rushed through the front door.
"Sweetheart!" he cried. "I'm home for a while! How are you?"
But his worry quickly dwindled as he caught wind of the scene: his little girl, lying on the couch with his reliable babysitter, both napping soundly as they hugged each other close.
"Hmph," Malak huffed."You're not too shabby, after all."