"Dude! He's right behind you!"
"What!? Where!"
"Left! He's to your left!"
"He's got a gun! You need to hide!"
"Wait! Where'd he go!?"
"Oh. C'mon man! Where'd that thing go!?"
"Aw dude…"
The words 'Round Lost' appeared on screen and Mad Dawg groaned in annoyance.
"Dude, that's the sixth round. How are you so good at this?!" He said, frowning and looking over to Lincoln.
"Hey, don't beat yourself up over it, Dawg." Clyde smirked. "It's like the only thing he does in his spare time, play this and think about his crush."
"Clyde!"
"Whoa, dude. You've got a woman? Sweet!" Mad Dawg nodded approvingly with a grin. "So… how's that going?"
"Dawg. We're not… I mean…" Lincoln sputtered in annoyance. "We're not dating."
"Ah, so she's single?"
The two went silent, looking in shock at Dawg until Clyde spoke up again, seemingly almost frightened.
"If you ever say that to her, that healing factor of yours is gonna be working overtime." He said. Still to his credit, Mad Dawg laughed, shaking his head.
"Chill dude, I'm kiddin'." He said dismissively, before cracking open another can of Hydra.
"Did you have a girlfriend? Like, back in your world?" Lincoln asked, finding his voice. Mad Dawg quirked a brow before wiping his mouth.
"Nah… there was one girl I kinda had a crush on, but uh… yeah… let's just say that some women will say they don't care who you are but it's what inside that counts… but then when they see what's inside me… they go back on it."
"Ouch… sorry man." Clyde winced.
"Eh, it is what it is." Mad Dawg sighed. "The issue is, if you don't have someone who gets you, and I mean really gets you, you'll end up feeling depressed, lonely, and you'll never reach your goal weight because you eat when your sad."
Mad Dawg paused, before looking at the reader.
"This guy knows what I'm talkin' about." He remarked.
"Wait. You see them too?!" Lincoln asked in disbelief. His head jerking from Dawg, to the reader, then back to Dawg.
"Who? The readers? Yeah, I see em'." Mad Dawg asked before looking back to the audience. "I don't know how or why… but I've been able to talk to them and Skorch… I just tend not to 'cause people think I'm mental or something."
"I used to think Linc was nuts, but eventually I figured he was gonna keep doing it… So… If you two do it… I'm not gonna question it anymore."
"Great, 'cuase I ain't stopping anytime soon." Mad Dawg remarked.
"Lincoln! I need your help!" A young voice called from another room, cutting their conversation short. Lincoln blinked, and then sighed. Seeming to realize who was talking and what this was gonna lead to.
"Hang on…" He muttered, getting off the couch and leaving the room, leaving Dawg and Clyde alone. Needless to say, there was a bit of an awkward vibe hanging over the two. Neither one really looked at one another for a bit, until Dawg finally spoke.
"So… You uh, you and Lincoln known each other a long time?" He finally asked.
"Oh, yeah! We've known each other for years." Clyde smiled. "He's been my best friend… honestly my entire life. He's someone I know I can rely on, no matter what happens."
"Nice." Mad Dawg nodded. "So, do your parents know each other well? Like, your mom and Lincoln's mom go for coffee, or…" Mad Dawg trailed off when he saw Clyde looking at him with a mixture of amusement and realization. "What?"
"I have two dads." Clyde stated, then laughed at Mad Dawg's expression.
"Uh, sorry… I uh…" Mad Dawg stammered awkwardly.
"Hey, it's cool man. I never told you, and I don't think you've been stalking me, so I doubt you would've seen them."
"Yeah, I've been stalking Lincoln the past while."
"What?"
"Nothing." Mad Dawg quickly answered jokingly. "Heh. Look, you can't tell anyone about this… Back home, there was this girl I met, and I really liked her. She was kinda like an older sister to me. Uh, I was gonna tell her how I felt. But then I met her girlfriend."
Clyde stared at him, then burst out laughing. Mad Dawg laughed and nodded, looking away embarrassed.
"Yeah, yeah… Laugh it up." He muttered. "Look, I'm a mutant designed to have supersonic senses and be able to shrug off bullet wounds, but I am terrible at social signs. I can't tell if someone is hitting on me, or if they're trying to tell me to piss off. And I sure as hell can't pick up on the intricacies of people, if you know what I'm getting at."
"Yeah, and no offence here Dawg, but you really come across like that." Clyde admitted.
"Wait. What?" Dawg asked, his laid-back personality waiving for just a moment as he leaned forward. "Dude, what? Be blunt with me here."
"When we first met, it was clear you were acting." Clyde began calmly. "You seem like and are a really nice guy. It's also extremely clear that you're not… 'normal' per say. But the past few times I've seen you, you seem to have adapted, or at least, moved on. It feels like when your happy around here, it isn't you trying to hide something, it's you being real. And I think you feel it, even if you can't tell that."
"Huh."
"But I'm not saying stop being weird, you're actually really funny when you act weird." Clyde quickly added.
"You should see me when I'm drunk."
"Aren't you sixteen?"
"Not according to my licence."
The two sat in silence for a few moments, then Dawg looked around.
"Hey, where'd Lugia go?" He asked.
"Oh… right." Clyde rolled his eyes. "I think Lola's making him help her with her outfits again…"
"Outfits for what? Isn't she like, seven?" Dawg asked.
"Six, and she does beauty pageants." Clyde answered, paused for a moment, then added: "Hey. Wanna go mess with them?"
"Oh, very much so." Mad Dawg said with a huge grin.
Lincoln was… in an odd position. This wasn't the first time Lola had dragged him into her pageant prep, and it wouldn't be the last. But when she was constantly going back and forth on if she should do hair, make-up or clothes first, and was pressed for time. Like she was now, as she had another pageant in four hours. She became almost… animalistic, and Lincoln didn't like being on the receiving end of it.
"If I do my hair, that'll take ten minutes, but then I need to be able to apply the correct blush, and that needs to coordinate with my nails, and if I can't figure out those, then I'm gonna be a mis-coloured mess! And if I'm a mis-coloured mess, the judges won't be able to see me for how I really am, and then…"
"Holy crap." Mad Dawg whispered, he and Clyde looking into the room. "And I thought Hana got crazy when I beat her high scores…"
Lincoln turned and looked at the two, his face screaming HELP ME as Lola went back and forth, still trying to figure out what was happening.
"…but should I do my face first? Or should I do it last?! And how am I gonna walk on?! Do I use the elegant style or the more confident one?!"
"Okay." Mad Dawg spoke, getting the pair's attention. "You, move." He said pointing to Lincoln, then pointing to Lola. "You, eyes, cheeks, hair."
"…what?"
Mad Dawg walked in and sat down, he was several feet taller than Lola, and now sat across form her. While the young beauty queen looked on hesitantly. She hadn't met Dawg much before, and he seemed very… off, the last time he was here. Then again, when someone stares off at nothing, falls to the ground, then stabs himself and heals from it, you might not immediately think 'Yeah, this guy knows what's going on.'
"Look, I've done a LOT of make-up and costuming stuff for festivals. If you're trying to get people's attention, the eyes are what they look at first." Mad Dawg explained, pulling out his phone and passing it to Lola, she looked in amazement at the picture of Mad Dawg, his face seeming like it was someone else's! His eyes had a dark shadow that seemed to end in fang-like points, and his hair was styled into neon green hair that was in quills of some sort. He wore the bottom half of a gas mask and a long overcoat, that seemed to be stitched together form other coats, and it worked…
"The look at your eyes, and if there's confidence in them, they'll feel it." Mad Dawg continued. "Then, your cheeks matter because after your eyes, they'll have a look at the rest of your face. Even if it's half-done, it's better than nothing, they most likely won't focus too much on your face as they'll move onto your hair. After that, they'll focus on your outfit."
Lincoln and Clyde watched slack-jawed as Lola passed Mad Dawg various make-up products and he was applying them while talking as if it was second nature.
"Here's the thing though. Outfits, and walk styles don't matter as much as you may think."
"What? How?!" Lola asked bewildered.
"Well, that's kind of a lie. They do matter, but if you walk in with confidence, something I'll assume you know about already, you can make them be amazed by anything you wear."
"Yes, but if the outfit isn't lined up with the rest of the style, I'll look all out of whack!" Lola protested. "And no offence, no amount of confidence would help me win looking like the stitched hobo monster you were dressed up as."
"Yo. Stitched hobo monster? Aw, I gotta remember that one." Mad Dawg chuckled. "Nah, but what I was getting at is this: if you're able to really, and I mean REALLY pull them in with your first few seconds on stage, you can make anything work! See, that's the beauty, pun intended, of eye shadowing, a good percentage of the time, it works with whatever outfit you've got, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't plan that ahead. And… Done!"
Lola opened her eyes and gasped slightly.
"This… is… AMAZING!" She squealed, her eyes widening, before suddenly hugging Mad Dawg. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"
Mad Dawg seemed caught off guard, looking to Lincoln, quietly asking 'What now?' Lincoln smirked and shrugged.
"Heh, don't mention it kid." Mad Dawg replied. "You know what you wanna do for the rest of this?"
"Uh… kinda…" She said, clearly trying to hide ulterior motives. "But… y'know… If you're not busy…"
"Let me grab some drinks, then yeah. Let's do this!" Mad Dawg smiled, jumping up to his feet. "Be right back!"
Once he was gone, Lola turned and half-glared half-stared in amazement.
"Linky… Why didn't you TELL ME he was some sort of make-up wizard!? I thought he was just some crazy guy you met on the street!"
"Well, I didn't know he could do all that." Lincoln admitted. "And if I did. I probably would've mentioned it."
"In his defense, he was never like 'Hey guys, I'm really good with make-up stuff!' he was more 'Hey, I can heal from lethal injures and am totally addicted to Hydra energy!' so…"
"I resent that!" Mad Dawg called, walking back into the room. "I'm not addicted."
He looked down at his bag, which was full of assorted Hydra Energy drinks.
"These are choices." He added, before looking to Lola. "You ready?"
"Yes!" Lola cheered.
"Alright, so. What's in style right now?" Mad Dawg asked.
About three hours elapsed, and Rita Loud was feeling very, very panicked right now. Her job had kept her from getting home sooner, and she knew that in an hour, Lola had one of her pageants. She had promised her daughter that she would help her prepare, and now she had less than an hour to do so. She didn't know how Lola would react when she got home, and she simply prayed her daughter wouldn't be too angry. Opening the door, she sighed and entered her home.
"Hi mom!" Lincoln waved.
"Hi Lincoln…" She sighed. "Is… Is Lola in her room?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. She's almost ready."
"I'm sorry. What?" Rita blinked in surprise. "Did… did she get ready on her own?"
"Uh, no. Mad Dawg stopped by a few hours ago to talk to Luna, we were playing some games, and Lola asked for my help with getting ready and-"
"Hi mommy! I'm ready to go!" Lola said chipperly, walking into the kitchen. Rita blinked as she looked at her daughter, she indeed was ready to go.
"Lola, did someone help you?" Rita asked.
"Yeah, it turns out Mad Dawg has done a bunch of make-up stuff in the past, he was a real help."
Mad Dawg walked by, drinking a Hydra Energy.
"Mrs. Loud." He nodded.
"Mad Dawg, thank you." Rita smiled, feeling relief beyond words. "If… if there's anything we can do for you, just-"
"You've done a lot for me already. It may not seem like it, but… Eh, I don't wanna drag everyone into this song and dance again." He looked to Lincoln and added: "Tell Lynn jr. I'll see her tonight at Coyote Field."
"Uh. Okay." Lincoln blinked. "What are you gonna do till then?"
"I dunno. Something stupid, probably." Mad Dawg shrugged, before leaving the Loud House and heading back to his place. As he walked, he stopped and walked back a few feet, looking up the store he was in front of.
"Screw the law. I'm cruisin' in style." Mad Dawg thought as he walked through the doors of the dealership.
About another hour later, Mad Dawg was elated. He finally, FINALLY had gotten a taco. He saved it the whole way home, and he had managed to be the last person in the store before it closed. Now, was getting his chair set up in the backyard, ready to enjoy his taco.
Flap
Mad Dawg whirled around, having sworn he heard something.
Nothing.
He sighed and poured a beer into his glass filled with ice. He had found this new type of Ale, called 'Critical Rolling Rock'.
Flap
He turned around agitated, expecting to see something.
Nothing.
"Skorch. I swear if you're screwing with me…"
He sighed and sat down in his un chair, pulling his glasses onto his face. Finally, maybe this story was getting to a calmer lull, maybe he could start trying to find a way home! He reached for his taco, which he had put next to him.
Nothing.
"Wait."
Looking up into the sky, Mad Dawg's face warped to one of pure, uncontrolled hatred. A bird was flying away, holding his taco in its talons. Maybe it was because he had been shot over a taco, or maybe because the reason he had died/got sent to another dimension was because of a group called 'Talon', but Dawg was just pissed. As he stood up, Mad Dawg spun his crossbow in a circle, opening it and getting it into its primary form. He loaded and arrow, pulled it back until it clicked, and then he squeezed the trigger.
Shulk
"Caw!"
The bird cried out in pain as the arrow found it's mark, and went right through the bird, killing it mid-flight. He didn't know where it was going to land, and frankly he didn't care. He picked up his beer and skulkingly chugged it.
Later that night…
Coyote Field was once supposed to be Royal Woods most pristine park and baseball diamond. A place where families could come and enjoy the warm sun, green grass, and watch a game every now and then. The plans had been to have small food vendors around the park, and once there were plans to build an amphitheatre for live shows. If all went as planned, it could be not only a massive source of income, but would also help the community of Royal Woods grow.
For some reason, this wasn't meant to be. If you looked into the town's history, there wasn't some sort of horrible accident, or some sort of murder, people just seemed… uninterested. The park was never completed, and the trees planted had gradually grown into a forest which itself seemed almost… half-baked. It wasn't a forest that grabbed one's attention, if anything, it almost seemed like a forest in a horror movie. Well, that wasn't exactly fair, it wasn't that bad, but it was close. The only things that were finished was the baseball diamond, which itself was treaded, clearly worn with exposure, but the flood lights still worked, and there were bleachers, and an outhouse.
"So, you really think this Dog-Kid is some sort of super baseball player?" Lincoln's friend Rusty, asked. He, Clyde, Lincoln and Bobby's sister Ronnie Ann had agreed to come with Lynn Jr. to Coyote Fields, mostly because there was nothing else to do.
"Oh, yeah. You should've seen what I saw!" Margo nodded, still wondering if what she saw was real.
"I don't know about his sport skills, but he's a weird guy." Lincoln shrugged. "Still, he's a good dude."
"Eh, I haven't even met him, and you make him sound like some sort of escaped mental patient."
The group set their gear down, and Lynn Jr. went off to the control room. It took her a few minutes to finally get the power up and running, and then a few more to get the lights on. But soon enough, the field was lit up in yellow-whiteish light.
"So… where is he?" Rusty finally asked, seeing that they were still the only ones around. Clyde was about to reply, but then an engine was faintly heard. The sound grew progressively louder, until a small white light seemed to be rapidly approaching.
VvrrRRvRRvvrrr!
A black and yellow ATV made its presence known as it tore across the remains of the public park. As it came into the light, lime green accents reflected the flood lights. Mad Dawg smirked as he shot into the diamond and grabbed the break, aggressively drifting to a stop. His ATV briefly leaving the ground on one side before landing back on the ground.
"Yo." Mad Dawg waved as he got off the ATV, taking his hat off and letting his long hair flow.
"Since when do you have an ATV?" Lincoln said, asking the obvious question.
"Since four hours ago." Mad Dawg answered. "So, we hittin' balls tonight?"
There was no response, but there were supressed laughs.
"I'm not apologizing. That was funny."
"No one said it wasn't!"
"Sweet."
For the next twenty minutes, the groups took turns hitting and pitching. Lynn Jr. had the best distance for hitting a baseball (surprising no one) and Mad Dawg had a surprisingly fast pitch. Heck it had even caught Lynn Jr. off guard a few times. Mad Dawg and Rusty seemed to get off on the right foot, with Rusty playing off of Mad Dawg's eccentricates in a mixture of sarcasm and deadpan snark. He honestly seemed like a small Mad Dawg in some regards, but less mutant-y to be fair. Ronnie Ann still seemed hesitant around him, but hey, one outta two, right?
"Hey! Doggo! You're up!" Lynn Jr. called, Mad Dawg nodded and grabbed a bat, cracking his shoulders as he approached home plate. Lynn threw the ball, Mad Dawg swung, and…
Strike
Those watching seemed rather… disappointed. Still, miss once, hit second, right?
"Okay, actually HIT the ball!" Lynn called, picking up another ball. She pitched, Dawg swung…
Ting!
He hit the ball with a slight spin on the bat, and the ball went up, and not very far away. Landing in the dugout.
"Are you trying!?"
"Yeah."
Lynn sighed, casting an annoyed look to Margo. The other girl shrugged, bewildered.
Another pitch, another swing, and… Well, it at least got some distance. But once again, it wasn't what everyone had been expecting or had seen before.
"Okay, enough fun…" He thought with a grin. "Hey! I needed to warm up! Let's do this one more time!"
"Fine, but you'd better show some sort of talent! If you're a mutant, couldn't they have given you some sorta super soldier juice?!"
"Wait." Rusty blinked.
"He's a… he's a mutant?" Margo finished.
"Yeah." Lincoln nodded.
"I thought Bobby was making that up…" Ronnie said, her feelings shifting to distrustful instead of apprehension.
"That's awesome!" Rusty breathed.
Mad Dawg paused, taking a few deep breaths. He never sure if he knew how to activate his other side or not, so he figured he'd just to this the way he usually did. He bit his lip, and then clawed his arm. He felt a pins and needles feeling in his stomach, and knew it was waking up. He bit his lip a bit harder, and felt his spine begin to ache. No, no… he didn't need all of it…
"Hey, is he tripping balls right now or something?" Rusty asked, pointing to Dawg who seemed to be sporadically twitching.
Lynn Jr. blinked, then shrugged. She took a stance and wheeled back, Mad Dawg growled loudly feeling a sharp, almost stabbing-like pain in his arm.
"Here we go."
Lynn Jr. whipped the ball towards Dawg, the mutant grinned, swung, and-
CRACK!
He swung with such force that when the ball and bat contacted one another, the aluminum bat shattered, and the ball was sent flying. The kids watching dropped whatever they were holding as the ball shot forth with such speed that it seemed more like a bullet. The ball continued upwards, and smashed through the old scoreboard sending a shower of sparks in all directions. The scoreboard briefly lit up as the weird electrical surge gave it power, and then it quickly died. Everyone turned and looked to Mad Dawg in utter disbelief.
"Holy crap!" Lynn Jr. shouted.
"C'mon!" Mad Dawg growled, his voice distorting in terms of pitch. "Gimmie another!"
CRACK!
Another ball was shot upwards like a shooting star, smashing one of the flood lights on the upper right hand side before shooting off into the forest. What was even more amusing or amazing depending on who you asked, was that Dawg hit the second ball with the broken bat with one hand. Speaking of which, Dawg looked at the bat and blinked.
"Uh… my bad."
Without warning, Mad Dawg tore off at inhuman speeds, running entirely around the diamond several times, before skidding to a stop, raising a giant dust cloud.
"Agh… wow…" Mad Dawg muttered, feeling his arms going back to normal. He turned and looked at the group, no one speaking for a long while.
"Uh. Okay…"
"Dude! That was AWESOME!" Rusty shouted, the amazement and disbelief clear in his voice. "How'd you do that!?"
"Mutant… strength… I think." Mad Dawg replied, not feeling like discussing the whole story right now. "Oh boy…. I uh, I need a sec."
Mad Dawg seemed to almost drunkenly walk to one of the benches and sat down, his head spinning as a result of what had happened. So, he did what he always did when he needed to focus. He cracked open a tall boy and took a long drink.
"Hey, Dawg. You good?" Lincoln asked, concerned.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Mad Dawg nodded. "Just… doing that… it takes a lot out of me."
"Fair."
"You guys seem really calm about a guy who just broke a scoreboard and snapped a bat in half by hitting a ball." Ronnie Anne remarked, now knowing that what her brother had told her wasn't a lie.
"I've seen him do weirder." Clyde shrugged.
"Like what?" Rusty asked, curious.
"He stabbed his hand and healed like it was nothing."
"Hey, Ma-"
"No. I'm not doing it now!" Mad Dawg called, flipping the group off. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to drive a knife through bone and muscles!?"
"…fair point."
During all this, Dawg didn't notice Lynn Jr. giving him an… unusual look. If Dawg had been paying attention, he probably would've seen a mixture of resentment and jealousy. Lynn was frustrated if she was honest, how could she compete with… THAT!? Even her best days seemed like nothing but warm-up to Mad Dawg! He had just rode in here, shattered every record she set, and it seemed to only make him a little bit dizzy.
"I mean, he IS a mutant…" She thought. "But if Lincoln wasn- No. Stop. We're not doing that again. Maybe it was just a lucky swing, and he's not really that powerful."
"Hey." Margo said, shaking Lynn's shoulder to get her attention. "Don't let this get to you."
"I'm not." Lynn replied flatly.
"Yes, you totally are." Margo smirked. "You have that look on your face. Besides, I'm pretty sure this Dawg guy couldn't join any team and pull a stunt like that without someone accusing him of steroids. I get you like to be the best, and you still are."
"Really? How?"
"You're the best human player I know." Margo remarked. "Don't forget. MUTANT." She said pointing to Dawg. "HUMAN." She finished, pointing to Lynn. "If I had to guess, his strength probably isn't because of training or skill, but the way he was made."
That actually made a lot of sense. Mad Dawg was clearly insanse when it came to power, but how much of that was actual strength? He had failed several times to even hit the ball before tweaking out and going nuts. So why WAS she feeling this way? She was still better than him at this! That much was obvious.
"Unless he really IS that strong."
"Yo! We're gonna go burn some stuff! You comin'?" Dawg called. The girls looked to one another, then nodded.
While Mad Dawg dragged a bunch of rocks to make a circle, Rusty and Clyde brought a bunch of sticks and dead leaf's to burn. Mad Dawg was messing with his lighter, but Ronnie created a spark and got the fire going faster than Dawg expected.
"If I had some gas, I coulda done that." He remarked.
"None of us trust you with gas." Lincoln flatly said. "I'm pretty sure my parents wouldn't trust you with a knife."
"Eh, their loss."
"Dude. You stabbed yourself and bled on the carpet!"
"I cleaned it up!"
"But you STAB- Never mind." Lincoln muttered.
"So, anyone got any good ghost stories?" Rusty asked.
For the next while the group swapped tales, stories about spirits, monsters, cryptics, demons and other Lovecraftian monsters were told. The stories themselves range from hilariously unfrightening to spine-freezing unsettling. Mad Dawg kept quiet, he had horror stories, but they weren't ones he wanted to tell. Sure, he could tell stories about the black-cloaked, owl-masked monster that haunted him for years, but most of those stories ended up Dawg having his intestines blown out. But on the other hand, there was the terror of Junkinstine, the tales of the Banshee of the woods, the Slasher, or the rivalry of the Demon Hunter and the Witch.
"Hey, you got any stories?" Clyde asked, looking to Mad Dawg. "You're from another dimension, right?"
"Yeah." Mad Dawg nodded, ignoring the shocked looks the others who didn't know were giving him. Mad Dawg thought for a minute, until finally he spoke. "Anyone here spiritual?"
"Like religious?" Margo asked, confused.
"I mean, I guess, like… ugh. Never mind." Mad Dawg shook his head with a wave.
"C'mon man, what are you getting at?"
"Anyone of you know the seven deadly sins?" Mad Dawg asked. This got a bit of silence as the group thought it over.
"Wrath." Ronnie Ann remarked.
"Lust." Clyde nodded.
"Pride?" Lynn Jr. asked.
"Gluttony." Rusty continued the chain.
"Greed." Lincoln said.
"Envy." Mad Dawg added.
"Yeah. And Sloth." Margo concluded. "What about them?"
"Well, this is a story my family used to tell me." Mad Dawg began. "The seven deadly sins are to some, nothing but temptations of the mind. Others believe that they were demons who escaped the afterlife and feed off of the chaos and sinful nature of the world. But the story I was told, was that they aren't spirits. They're people."
"Like, demons who possessed people?" Rusty asked. Mad Dawg looked at him, then shrugged.
"I dunno. But here's the story. Each sin is embodied by a person who exemplifies, embodies and embraces that sin to the extreme. The catch is, the sin carrier could be killed, but only by someone who was more extreme than the last."
"Like a world record holder." Lincoln said aloud. "But for bad stuff."
"Like a politician." Rusty snarked.
"Kinda, yeah. That's pretty close. But until that happens, the current embodiment will live forever." Mad Dawg nodded. "So, let's start with Greed. It seems like the sin carrier would be tempted and corrupted by money, but that's not entirely true. See, greed isn't just for money, it's the want of more, and that more can be anything. So, the legend goes that a woman longed to know how the world worked, to know everything about everyone. Some believe she was a criminal who would use this knowledge to force people to do what she wanted, and others claim that she was just addicted to explanations, especially things that had no explanation."
Mad Dawg paused to take a drink and read the room (or campfire). He noticed that there was interest, but they weren't hooked yet. Good…
"Now, knowledge in and of itself is good." He continued. "It can be used to help people, to change the world! But to this woman, it was never enough."
"Did she have a name?" Ronnie Ann asked.
"…Shadow." Mad Dawg answered. "Supposedly."
"Hm."
"Anyhow, she longed to know how the world itself worked, how the forces or reality came to be, it became her life. If you're thinking that she made some sort of Faustian bargain, that isn't what happened. She traveled the world from the highest mountains to the deepest caves, places no one knew existed. In the end… she succeeded."
"What?" Was collectively asked.
"Mmhmm." Dawg nodded through his drink. "She found the answers of which she sought. She knew more than anyone could ever comprehend. But, in some places, knowledge… knowledge is power."
Dawg paused, tossing some sticks onto the fire.
"See, she knew everything about this world, she knew how we came to be, she knew everything about everyone who ever lived. She knew what people were thinking about doing, even if they didn't know yet. With all that knowledge, people wanted to know answers to questions that seemed unanswerable. Stuff like cures for illnesses, when they would die, how to fix problems in their lives, or even how to fix problems with earth. They paid her, and she was revered as the most powerful woman alive."
"No offense Dawg, I don't really see how this ties into greed." Margo spoke up. Dawg just looked at her and smirked.
"I'm just gettin' to that." He replied. "So, when you have all that knowledge, and by extension, all that power. There's really only one thing to fear. Losing it. And Shadow began to fear that by giving people the answers they sought, she was giving up her power. She disappeared from the public eye, people spending months or years searching for her, wither to save someone they loved, or for whatever other reason they had. Still, it didn't matter. Shadow remained well, in the shadows, no pun intended. With all the answers she had given away, she felt desperate to replace that knowledge with something no one knew. Finally, she turned to the only place left for any sort of questions or answers. The afterlife."
Taking another quick read of the reactions, he noted that they seemed MUCH more interested now.
"So, she set off to find the afterlife, to find answers to questions no one could solve. But this wasn't driven by a sense of wonder or a purist of scholarly reasoning, it was fueled by her obsession for information. For power."
"Sorry, but… couldn't people just find the places she had found?" Lynn Jr. asked. "Wouldn't that mean someone else knew this information?"
"Well, yes. Actually." Mad Dawg nodded. "But that comes later. I'll tell you this. If your desperate to hide something, the dead don't speak."
Lynn Jr. was about to ask what that meant, when she realized what Dawg was implying.
"She traveled along a path that some consider limbo, and others would consider a test of faith. The path one's soul travels after death, before it's judged to be pure or wicked. However, she wasn't dead, so she couldn't go to either place. So, she walks that eternal path, driven by greed and no longer able to stop. Any supplies she brought long since gone, her body in a, sorta… walking coma, so to say. But her mind forever afraid of being outsmarted, driving her forward, towards and answer she can never find." Mad Dawg concluded, then paused. "Now, to answer your question about the hidden places, yeah. Someone else could stumble upon them, and they themselves may be driven onto the same path, or they may simply ignore the knowledge and continue onwards. But someday, somehow, someone will find themselves on a journey. Driven by a want for wealth, or the quest of knowledge or even to keep something as small as a rock away from someone else."
"Wait. A rock?" Lincoln asked, clearly finding that last part hard to believe.
"Yeah. A rock." Mad Dawg nodded. "These feelings have been around since mankind was first created, or evolved or… you get the point. But in a time when no one has anything, the things you can get your hands on become the most precious items imaginable. And you'd do anything to keep someone from getting their hands on it. Even if it consumes your life."
The only sound that followed was the chirping of crickets off in the distance, and the crackling of the fire burning.
"Wow." Clyde finally blinked. "That… that was creepy."
"And yet kind of amazing." Lynn Jr. added.
"So, all seven of the sins are people?" Ronnie Ann asked.
"That's the story." Mad Dawg nodded.
"What would happen if one of them was killed, but there wasn't a replacement. Or… what if they relented?"
The group turned to Mad Dawg, who seemed as relaxed as ever.
"Well, that's where the story gets… Iffy." He confessed. "See, there's been a few different versions of it told throughout the years. But the key factor in it is that the sin carrier can only die when they're surpassed by another. But some stores tell that the sin carriers can die before that would happen, or can be forgiven and put to rest. The story went that if that happened, then the world would be rid of that feeling. The catch being, the only way the sin carrier can be put to rest, is if they forgive themselves, and can be forgiven by those they hurt."
"Ooh. So, the odds of that ever happening…" Ronnie Ann began.
"…nearly impossible." Mad Dawg finished.
"So, there's some sorta story for all seven?! What are the others like!?" Lincoln spoke up, the excitement clear in his voice.
"Dude, if I tell you all seven, we'll be here all night." Mad Dawg answered flatly, getting boo'd by the others. "Alright! Alright! Fine! I'll tell you one more… then we can meet up here tomorrow or something?"
"I'm in!" Lincoln nodded.
"Definitely!" Margo added.
"Same here!" Rusty grinned.
This continued until the whole group had agreed on a time for tomorrow night, to return and continue hearing the stories that Dawg had to tell. But he wasn't quite done just yet… As he began, he sighed deeply, seeming saddened by what was on his mind.
"When you think about the seven sins, 'sympathy' is almost never a word you think about in context to those who became the sin carriers." He began, his tone more somber. "But… if there was any of the seven I felt true pain for, it would be Gluttony."
Mad Dawg added some fuel to the fire before beginning. Due to the dark night sky and the small fire, only part of Dawg's face was visible, roughly a third. And maybe because of the constant flickering light, his scars were much more noticeable, especially the one across his eye.
"So, the stories can be told in many different ways, they're like urban legends. So, keep that in mind as I tell you all this." He began. "This is the version I was told."
"Okay."
"The story deals with a woman-" Mad Dawg began.
"Are they all females?" Ronnie Ann cut in, clearly annoyed.
"No. Three of em' are. The other four are men. But the gender had nothing to do with the story. You could flip em' around and not much would be changed." Mad Dawg shook his head. "Anyhow, this woman wasn't born into a high social class. They say she grew up in an impoverished home. But as she grew, she worked hard, she took multiple jobs and built a life for her and her family. She pulled them out of the class they were born into, and raised them to the high class none of them ever believed they could be in. From there, she met a man and they married. Now, anything she wanted she could have. Surprisingly, she wasn't greedy, and she wasn't prideful. She had the finest clothes, the finest drinks, the finest food and the finest, well, the finest life."
"Okay." Someone commented.
"But in time, these things she had, the drinks, the social standing, she lost the traits of the woman who got her here, and she became absorbed by the upper-class lifestyle. See, the unhappy truth is, every single incarnation of Gluttony fell for the same thing."
"Food." Was collectively said.
"Exactly." Mad Dawg nodded. "So, this woman, she found that she was happiest when she was dining on the most expensive foods, and enjoying the most expensive wines. Because of this, that was all she would eat. If she wasn't happy, she ate, if she was happy, she ate. I know this sounds like a disorder of some sort, but keep in mind this was in a time when even if that was what she was dealing with, no one knew how to treat it."
"What happened to her?" Clyde asked.
"She kept eating, almost non-stop." Mad Dawg frowned. "She believed that she should be happy every moment of every day, and she believed that indulging in excess would bring her that happiness. She knew nothing but food, she knew nothing but excess, and it ruined her life. You could say it was because of her drastic weight change or because of her uncontrollable habits, but she became… Never mind. I think you get the idea."
"Compared to greed, that doesn't seem too bad, lik-" Margo began.
"I'm not done." Mad Dawg cut in. "See, what tore her apart was that one day, she saw the one thing she couldn't have excess of. Beauty."
"Isn't that lust?" Rusty asked.
"Not exactly, but I'll explain that another time." Mad Dawg shook his head. "This woman… she saw her husband with another woman. One who reminded her of herself, when she first pulled herself up into the higher class. She was devastated, and did the only thing she now knew. She kept eating, hoping that this would solve her problems, until she finally realized what she wanted more than anything."
"To be beautiful." Lincoln said.
"Yeah." Dawg said in a quiet tone. "So, she did the only thing she could think of. She stopped eating, altogether."
"But… that would kill her!" Lynn exclaimed. "Even if she would lose some weight, the overall exertion on her body would kill her!"
"But it wouldn't." Dawg shook his head. "Remember what I said at the beginning? The only way to be free, is to be surpassed."
"So… what happened to her?" Rusty asked, now wanting to know how this ended. Dawg seemed downcast once again, but even more than before.
"Well, one day she saw the woman she had seen her husband with. And she saw that she too was being dragged into the pit of excess she was trapped in. Eventually, she was finally able to be freed from her curse, but no one knows what happened to the other woman."
"…man. That sucks." Lincoln finally said after a long silence. "So that's it? She's cursed to live forever because of something out of her control?"
"No. All the sins are choices." Dawg replied. "Some more so than others, and while some may be amplified by conditions or circumstances in one's life, at the end of the day, it's a choice. But the story of gluttony does have a hopeful ending."
"Really?" Margo asked. "I'll be honest, I could use that right about now…"
"See, the woman was in pain because of what she did to herself, but she didn't hurt anyone because of it, aside from herself." Mad Dawg explained. "Now… this is going back to the whole 're-telling and translation' thing I brought up at the beginning. One version I know simply has her forgive herself and when she passes, she's taken to heaven. The other version-"
"She goes to the other place?" Lynn asked, clearly believing she knew where this was going, and not liking it.
"No." Dawg simply said, surprising everyone. "The other ending, I was told was that she was given a second chance. She was given a new body and sent to that night when she met the second woman after she began to fall into that pit. She was able to save her from the nightmare she had experienced, but someone, somewhere else wouldn't be as lucky."
"But if someone forgave themselves and could be freed, they could be a guardian angel to another?" Clyde surmised.
"Maybe." Mad Dawg shrugged. "Still, that's those two down… let's meet up another time, I'll tell you the rest."
The small group nodded in agreement, knowing they should head home before their parents got freaked out about them being gone at night. As they packed up, Dawg remained where he was watching the fire.
"Hey." Lincoln said, walking up to him. "You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah." Dawg said, looking up at the white-haired boy. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Okay, cool." Lincoln gave a thumbs-up as he left. "Just wanted to make sure."
Soon, Mad Dawg was alone, a single light still on at the abandoned diamond, illuminating where he had parked his ATV. Mad Dawg reached for his bag, debating on something, but then stopped, shaking his head. He wasn't ready.
There was a twisted metallic sound off in the distance, and when Dawg looked up, he saw a figure standing in the woods looking at him. Mad Dawg knew who it was, and he wasn't real.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Mad Dawg quietly said as he kicked dirt onto the fire before pouring water over it. As the smoke rose, Mad Dawg walked back into the baseball diamond, looking at the shattered scoreboard as he walked to the control room. Turning off the lights, Mad Dawg climbed aboard his ATV and kicked the engine off. He cast one last glance to the forest, but didn't see anything. Revving his engine, Mad Dawg drove off down the dirt path that lead through the abandoned park, heading home.
"That's such a weird feeling…" He mused as he drove. "Am… Am I really home? I mean, it kinda feels like it. Maybe… maybe this is home. A new home."
He let his mind wander as his drove down the road back towards his place, thinking about all he had been through in the past month, and all in all, it was pretty good.
And Mad Dawg was just fine with that.
