Slappy swallowed past the coppery tang of blood that filled his mouth as he clung to the wall, brick-work scraping his fingertips raw while he struggled to walk. The spike that had lanced through his ankle had long since been disposed of but with the brutal beating Wally had all too happily rained down, Slappy could hardly walk on it; the slightest movement caused white-hot agony to flare up.

Wally had certainly not forgotten the last time they met. He got straight to business with his torture, favoring slow, painful over the quick bursts of last time. Slappy wasn't sure which he preferred but he'd rather not be tortured at all. He couldn't remember a time where crossing paths with his brother didn't drag bad luck kicking and screaming and bloodied like fresh kill.

Walking was excruciating, razor blades slicing into his tendons, peeling his skin off strip by strip. He gritted his teeth against the agony of such a simple motion and forged on, trying hard to distract himself from the burning in his ankle.

"Oh, Slappy!" laughed a voice that made the back of his neck prickle with dread and his stomach churn. Sweat dribbled down his face in rivulets, streamed into his already blurry vision as he struggled to pick up the pace. There came that damn voice again, mocking and low, ricocheting off the empty hallway save for him.

Slappy could hear the dark, malicious grin in his brother's words. "Why are you running from me? I was having so much fun!"

The dummy-turned-humanoid ignored him, instead pouring all his focus into walking as fast he could, grinding his teeth against the white-hot pain that ran anew with every step. If he could just reach the double-doors that lead outside…

He hated this mansion, he truly did. Every time Wally tugged him back here, it was different and his stomach plummeted when he realized the double-doors were no longer there; instead replaced by an open doorway that revealed a room covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors hidden underneath white sheets, a museum courtesy of the demon running amok in its walls.

"Hello?"

His heart stopped as he reluctantly headed for the mirror room. The air that met his lips was dusty and stale, making his stomach flip when a cool draft blew over him. Then it became excruciatingly apparent that he wasn't the only one in the house. A woman's voice echoed back to him, familiar as the back of his hand, and he could only think, as he struggled forward, deeper into the labyrinth of ghostly mirrors, not her, not her damn it!

"Is anyone home?"

There it was again, taunting him, the slight scratchiness of her voice far too spot-on to be another one of Wally's wicked tricks. Slappy couldn't believe she was so stupid to follow him here, into the lion's den, with an even bigger predator shadowing his every step. Maybe it was the blood he'd given her—that little exchange of mortal and demon power—that had somehow managed to allow her to find him again like the red string of fate, unerringly and unfathomable.

Something laying on the floor caught the edge of his shoe and he fell face-first into the floorboards, his legs too weak to support him. He lay there for a long minute, his body screaming its protests, muscles pulsating with pain while he gathered the strength to pull himself upright. Bones creaked and groaned as he sat up slowly. Thick blood dripped down his face, seeped into the cracks of his dry lips, as he climbed to his feet, swaying slightly.

"Oh, this is the little human who I can smell on you," his brother sneered and Slappy wiped the blood from his eyes, his blurry vision focusing. Wally smiled a vicious flash of teeth, more like a snarl than anything, and any blood in Slappy's body froze into shards of ice as he noticed the figure in front of his brother, facing away. The long black hair and too-narrow eyes, the backpack casually over one shoulder as she soldiered on, completely unaware of the demon behind her.

A snarl shook the heavens and Slappy realized he'd made that sound but couldn't find it in himself to care. "Get away from her!" he roared as he dove at his brother and Wally's high-pitched scream made his ears pop and something wet and hot trickled out of them. His head pounding as they tussled, smashing into chairs and mirrors, shards biting into his skin.

He could hear Amy's loud shriek of surprise as her heavy footfalls stopped abruptly but he didn't look—he couldn't look because Wally suddenly was pressing his thumb into Slappy's eye socket, trying to gouge his eye out, and oh, hell, the pain disorientated him. Power surged up like never before, a loud crackling filling his ears, and when he came to his senses, he was standing on his feet and the pain had dulled considerably; he could put weight on his ankle with only the slightest of twinges.

"Don't you dare touch her!" he growled at the sprawled, sluggish body of Wally, watching him with hateful eyes that were clear as his brother struggled to right himself. Branches of light scored up and down his arms, danced and crawled along the walls, scorching everything it touched smudgy black. "If you so much as breathe on her, I will not hesitate to end you, right then and there." The beast was out and center, his teeth long in his blood-stained mouth, his fingers ending in long, lethal claws, his eyes blood-red.

And then a little noise drew his attention away from his bastard brother and something in his stomach sank like a rock in still water.

Amy.

He turned slowly, willing his demonic features back into the mask of human skin, and saw her eyes first. Those familiar eyes that he had seen glossed over with tears, burning with rage, now stared at him with oddly, not quite fear but also not quite relief. Her cheeks were pink and she had a long scratch down one of her legs.

"Are you back to yourself?" she asked after a long, endless minute of silent staring, her voice calm and collected as she straightened up.

He nodded, mute, watching transfixed as she crossed the distance between them. Now his mouth wasn't filled to the brim with razor-sharp teeth, he opened it to speak.

Only to be intercepted by Amy's fist colliding with the side of his jaw, sending him to the floor. "You asshole! First you barge into my life and bring around that creepy dead kid, then said kid stabs me and you heal me or whatever, and then you vanish and I'm here with glowing eyes like you and what am I supposed to do? Change me back!" she screamed, red-faced with rage as she grabbed him by the front of his suit.

Wally's laugh exploded behind them and in an instant, Slappy was on his feet, pulling her behind him. "Isn't that sweet? The little human—ah, not so human anymore, dear Slappy—you've created a life bond with her!" More laughter.

Amy peered around Slappy's shoulder, her frown deepening. "Who are you?"

The redhead grinned. "My name is Wally; I'm Slappy's brother."