Chapter 2

Insomnia plagued Bubbles, that night, like many others. Mysterious noises could be heard throughout the cabin, and they were putting her on edge. She tugged the blanket up to just below her eyes, watching out for anything suspicious. The shadows on the walls were creeping her out, and she nearly screamed at the sight of a man's silhouette, before realizing it was just the cardboard cutout of one of her favorite pop idols. She was beginning to think she'd rather sleep in utter darkness. Perhaps, she'd give up on nightlights, and Buttercup would have one less reason to pick on her. "Are you there?" Bubbles whispered, for she suddenly sensed an increasingly familiar presence, which left her with the creepy, yet oddly comforting feeling, that it was merely watching over her.

They say, if you feel like you're being watched, it's probably because you are. Apparently, it's caused by the peripheral detection of one's eyes on you, however, and Bubbles was usually alone, when she experienced the sensation. She'd searched the cabin for hidden cameras—which was unnecessary, because she sometimes experienced it in public, too—but obviously found none. It was as though she were being watched by the eye of God. In actuality, it was probably the devil, who she secretly thought of as her guardian fallen angel.

Rolling onto her side, Bubbles fished around for her most treasured childhood relic, which she could never bring herself to get rid of. "There, you are, Octi." She brought the stuffed octopus to her lips, and graced him with a kiss. "It's just my imagination, right?" She asked the toy, knowing it wouldn't give her a response. "You'd always say I have a big imagination." She prayed for one, anyway, as she always did. It was a funny think to pray for, really, considering whose voice she hoped to hear.

Growing up, Octi had been her very best friend, and the keeper of her secrets. He'd always been a great listener, but, one day, he suddenly started talking back to her. Finally, someone understood Bubbles in a way no one ever had; in ways she hadn't thought possible. She could still easily recall bits and pieces of conversations they'd had in the dark; the sound of whispers; the clandestine atmosphere. She'd felt betrayed and heartbroken, to learn that Octi had merely been possessed by the one they'd always referred to as simply 'Him,' and that she'd ironically been used as a toy. At first, she considered throwing Octi away, but decided to hold onto it, and actually grew to cherish it more deeply, with each passing day; though in a nostalgic way, as it now left her with an emptiness, whereas it used to fill a place in her heart.

On nights like this, Bubbles felt completely alone, like nobody in the world understood her. Not necessarily due to her complexities, but the facets of her personality that had always been overlooked. Deep down, however, she knew that there was one particular individual, who truly understood her, and that she was definitely not alone; not tonight. No one had ever paid such scrupulous attention to all the intricate details, or related with her on so many levels, as the presence that currently watched over her. Maybe, she reasoned, that's because there's a little bit of 'the devil' in everyone, so to speak.

Eventually, Bubbles drifted off to sleep, holding Octi tightly to her chest.

She dreamed about frolicking through an enchanted forest, chatting with whatever furry creatures crossed her path, when a white rabbit with piercing, red eyes, suddenly hopped forward, and relayed a wordless, telepathic message. She reluctantly followed the rabbit down its hole, and slipped into the darkness; falling from the dream; slamming back into her body, and waking into the deepest state of sleep paralysis she'd ever experienced. That wiggle room she usually had—the ability to shake her head or twitch her fingers—was totally absent. She could only open her eyes; though, when she did, she deeply regretted it. The orange cast of her nightlight dimmed, until it was glowing red, which signaled the arrival of a sinister presence. Shadows of flames danced across the walls, reaching for the ceiling. Bubbles' felt increasingly hot, as though her body temperature were rising. Everything was fight or flight. Trying to regain control of her paralyzed body, she felt it being invaded. A familiar, creepy, sing-song voice, echoed sweet nothing inside her mind; sending shivers up her spine, and giving her goosebumps. "How does it feel to have me inside you?" Her body moved of its own accord; hand reaching down her panties. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped it. "It feels good, doesn't it?" She would've moaned in response, had she been able. "I know, because I can feel everything that you feel." Her eyes rolled back, in pleasure, as she convulsed involuntarily on her bed. As she finally came down from the orgasm, the shadows of flames burned themselves out, the temperature and lighting returned to normal, and she slowly regained control of her body. She gasped, as she bolted upright in bed, where she curled in on herself, and immediately broke down.

Her body suddenly felt too empty.


Days later, Buttercup was still in a psychologically paralyzed state. She appeared glued to the couch, which she only rose from, in order to take a piss, or grab another beer. She drank heavily, ate very little, and slept even less. To snap her out of her funk, Ace quickly organized a small heist, which the Gangreen Gang carried out flawlessly, in under five minutes. Buttercup was surprised by how much more easily she could follow Ace's orders, than Blossom's, but supposed that was because she followed his of her own volition. Plus, he didn't exercise authority over her, the way Blossom did.

Shortly after they'd fled the scene—with a twelve-pack of beers, a carton of cigarettes, and a backpack of money from the cash register—Buttercup, as well as Blossom and Bubbles, received calls from the mayor, on their respective cell phones.

As always, he called Blossom, before anyone else.

She happened to be intensely concentrated on one of her and Utonium's experiments—quite literally, this time—when they were interrupted by the alarming ring tone she'd set for the mayor. "What's wrong, Mayor?" She answered the phone somewhat distractedly, figuring he probably just wanted help with opening another one of his pickle jars, but abruptly ceased her ministrations, as he proceeded to exclaimed something about a group of masked hoodlums robbing one of Townsville's many liquor stores, by gunpoint. "Six of them, you said?" She pulled the phone away from her ear, as the mayor continued to yell into it. "Calm down, Mayor, I'm on it." Without saying goodbye, she hung up the phone. "Well, Larry's Liquor has been robbed," she sighed, removing her lab coat. "Most likely, by Buttercup and those guys, by the way the mayor described it." Professor Utonium, obviously disappointed in Buttercup, deflated at the news. "Don't worry, I won't turn her in, or anything. I just want to talk to her. Mostly, about Bubbles."


After the mayor had contacted Blossom, he tried to get ahold of Bubbles, but she didn't answer either of his calls, so he gave up, and called Buttercup.

"'Sup, Mayor?"

"Buttercup," The mayor yelled into the punky Powerpuff's ear, "Larry's Liquor has been robbed! The culprit's have already gotten away, but they couldn't have gotten far!"

"Don't worry," Buttercup assured the mayor, as she followed the guys down a dark alleyway, where they planned to hide, "I'll do a sweep of the area."

"Oh, thank you, Butter—" The mayor's sentence was cut off, as she hung up the phone, laughing euphorically, with both runner's high, and the high that comes with barely getting away with a crime.

"Feel more like yourself, now?" Ace asked.

"Yeah, I really needed that."

"Glad my idea worked." He smiled proudly at her, as they slowed down, and made their way toward a dead end. "This was all for you."

"How romantic," Buttercup teased, with a roll of her eyes. "Seriously, though, thank you."

"No problem, babe." He produced a crumpled pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his leather jacket. "So, what do ya wanna do, now?"


Since they were already here, the gang decided to spray paint the alley. By this point, Buttercup seemed to be enjoying herself, but her fun was predictably interrupted, as always.

"There you are," an irritatingly familiar voice called out. "I know you're the ones who robbed the liquor store." A figure stepped out of the shadows, revealing itself to be Blossom.

"Oh, yeah?" Buttercup smirked, with a raise of her eyebrow, as she shook her can of spray paint, in attempt to antagonize her sister. "Why don't you arrest us?" The guys chuckled.

"Don't tempt me." Blossom narrowed her eyes at Buttercups phallic doodles, before returning her attention to the wayward Puff. "Look, I want to talk with you about Bubbles... Have you heard from her, recently?"

"Not since the other day," Buttercup said, lighting a cigarette. "Why?" Blossom explained that, these past few days, Bubbles had seemingly refused to answer her door, despite obviously being home, on account of the activity inside the cabin. Lights would turn on and off, and Blossom could occasionally hear muffled voices and faint laughter. "She's probably just talking to squirrels." Buttercup said with a lungful of smoke. "Everyone knows she's batshit crazy, these days."

Blossom shook her head. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Will you come with me to her cabin?"

"Right now?" She nodded. "'Kay, but we're walking, 'til I finish my cigarette."

Buttercup turned toward the guys. "See ya, later." She kissed her boyfriend on the cheek, then waved goodbye to him, as she followed her sister out of the alley.

"So, I happened to run into Mitch, yesterday," Blossom informed Buttercup, once the guys were out of earshot. "I told him you've been pretty much living with Ace. He seemed really upset." Buttercup frowned. "I wish you'd stayed with Mitch." Blossom missed the days when Buttercup could be seen in her basketball jersey, throwing a ball around with Mitch, rather than robbing stores, smoking cigarettes, and spray painting walls in dark alleyways, while sporting the Gangreen Gang's signature leather jacket. "He was, like, your best friend."

"Do we really have to talk about this, right now?" Buttercup threw her half-smoked cigarette to the ground, and took off into the sky, trying and failing to sweep thoughts of Mitch under the figurative carpet. There was just too much to burry. In all honesty, she still deeply missed the person she'd always considered to be her best friend, but it was Ace that she'd felt romantically toward.


"I'm sorry I made you cry, Bubbles," Lucifer's voice spoke from Octi, as it had for the last few days. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Bubbles was naïve, but not enough to be oblivious to the fact, and understood that she probably shouldn't trust Lucifer as much as she for some reason honestly did.

"You didn't hurt me." Bubbles sniffled, and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Not this time, anyway." After an awkwardly silent pause, she proceeded to elaborate. "This may sound weird, but I just felt so lonely, after you left."

"You're lonely a lot, aren't you?" She nodded, before burying her face in her pillow, and silently shedding more tears. "I'm lonely, too."

"Are you, really?" Bubbles wondered, lifting her head from the pillow.

"I always am," Lucifer admitted, "except when I'm with you." Bubbles pulled Octi close, and squeezed him to her chest. "Do you want to make a deal with me, Bubbles?"

"What kind of deal?" She asked skeptically.

"I'll promise to keep my hands off Townsville, and let your loved ones be," Lucifer tempted, "only if you'll sell your soul to me, and be my future bride." Before she could reply, he went on to list what he considered benefits. "You'll be able to live out your natural lifespan, but your soul will forever look exactly the age you were, the moment you made the deal, and you'll rule for the rest of eternity as the Queen of Hell. More importantly, neither of us will ever be lonely again."

"Okay," Bubbles agreed surprisingly quickly.

"Are you sure?" A red book appeared out of nowhere, fell out of midair, and landed open on her lap. "Once you do, you can't turn back."

"I'm sure," she confidently replied. "I'd do worse to protect my love ones, than promise to spend an eternity with you."

"I forgot, there technically is one more catch." Bubbles furrowed her eyebrows at Octi. "You can only sign your name in blood." A quill manifested before her, and she saw that it was sharp as a razor. "I understand, if you don't want to."

"Hey, I fight monsters for a living," she reminded Lucifer. "If I can take all the beatings I've taken, over the years, I can handle a tiny cut." Despite her courage, Bubbles' fingers trembled, as she took a deep breath, pressed the bladed quill to her left palm, and dragged it across her flesh, making a deep enough incision to allow the shank to fill up with blood. Her sky blue eyes were rimmed with tears, as she held the tip of the quill to a blank page in Satan's Red Book, and proceeded to scrawl out her name in barely legible cursive. Once signed, the book and quill disappeared into thin air, but blood still rushed from her cut, and the scar would always remain.


As Blossom had suspected, Bubbles didn't answer the door, so Buttercup kicked it down with a painfully loud THUMP!. They waited for any signs of life, expecting Bubbles to come running out, any moment, but the cabin seemed to be empty. It was eerily quiet and still.

"Bubbles!" Buttercup called out, temporarily disrupting the silence. "This place gives me the creeps."

"Shh!" Blossom slapped her hand over Buttercup's mouth. "Did you hear that?" The tomboy listened more intently, and finally picked up on a faint whisper.

"C'mon."

They headed toward Bubbles' room, where they found her in a heap on the floor, with her bloody hand wrapped in a once white bedsheet. "Bubbles!" They rushed toward her, and knelt on either side of her, to cradle her, like a baby, since that's how they'd always seen her.

"How did this happen?" Blossom asked.

"I did it myself."

"On purpose?" Bubbles nodded. "Why?!" She cast her eyes down, and stayed silent. "Bubbles, why the hell did you do this?!"

"Were you talking to someone, a minute ago?" Buttercup interjected.

"Octi."

She averted her gaze toward the stuffed octopus on the bed, feeling a chill creep up her spine, as she met its eyes. Reflexively, she looked away, and let her gaze fall upon Blossom, who she exchanged knowing looks with. "It's..."

"...Him."