Oh my God! I know you think this is pretty slow for me, but I just read Book Twelve, and I found my Epilogue obsolite! So here it is, the Alternate Epilogue. No questions on this chapter for the Quiz, folks.

The Alternate Epilogue

(This is set a few years after Book Twelve, and Hibernius Tall's death.)

The two heads of Cormac Limbs looked lost. Both pairs of eyes were ringed with black, and had bags under them. Ever since Hibernius Tall passed away because of machinegun fire in his chest, Cormac was never the same, especially when he found out what happened if he took off his head. He retired from the Cirque, and disappeared from the rest of the world. He lived in the house where his mother had lived, only a few years ago. But to Cormac, it was an eternity.

He was hallucinating. Sometimes he saw his father, smiling and holding his had, other times he saw his mother, hugging him with tears in her eyes. But most of all, he saw Mr. Tall, taking care of him, talking to him, helping him with his problems. But they were all gone. Every one of them had detached themselves from his life. He sometimes heard them laughing too, way up in the heavens.

He never went out, and yet rumours were going around about him. He knew that, and he didn't protest. A man with two heads, looking decades older than he actually was, walking around like a beggar, gibbering and talking to thin air, attracted a lot of attention from the locals. But he didn't mind. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Then, one day, he finally went outright mad. Well, one head, anyway. His mother's shotgun was still there, hidden in the shadows behind the back of the cupboard. He grabbed it against his other head's wishes, and shot himself three times, once in the gut, once in the chest, and finally a shot into the sane head.

Blood sprayed out from the first two wounds, but no blood came from the neck. Instead, another two heads grew in its place. Now Cormac had three heads.

But unless he was treated with medical attention, he was dead. The bullet in the chest had been a millimetre from his heart. The bullet hadn't torn his torso and below apart from his body, so there was no chance of growing another complete body again.

Cormac realized this. He suddenly knew he was going to die. And he welcomed it . He welcomed death as an escape from the tortures of life. He felt his soul start to drift away from his body, slowly, yet surely. He felt much lighter, and his troubles and his stress started to ebb away.

All of a sudden, he wasn't in the house. He was in a field, with lush green grass, and flowers of all kinds growing. And over there, at the edge of the horizon, were his parents. They were laughing, looking happy, and they were beckoning him over. He started laughing as well, and ran over to where his parents were. A soft, white light, coming from the heavens, surrounded everything. But Mr. Tall wasn't there. Cormac only thought about it for a moment; then it disappeared. Cormac now had no worries, as he skipped with his parents to eternal happiness.

When the police found him, they gasped at the horror before them. All three heads had different expressions on their faces; surprise on one face, sadness on another, and the most disturbing of all, grinning like a maniac on the last. The blood from his wounds was still gurgling. He was sight to behold. In the funeral, the coffin lid stayed closed for fear of panic.

The corpse was buried next to the graves of his parents. On his gravestone, there was a single statement:

He had an amazing skill, but it didn't help him in the end

Finally, the 'Always Growing Back: The Upbringing of A Performer' is complete. I hope you enjoyed it.

A HUGE thank you to Jerichoholic-Edgehead, for always reviewing my stories, encouraging me to continue, everything a good author needs. Thanks, man.