Author's Note: Whoops! Sorry for the late upload, ADHD got the best of me today! Holidays have got me sidetracked. My sincere apologies, I swear I'll be back on time once the holidays are through.
If this chapter doesn't satisfy your cravings for angsty content, check out my stuff and the shenanigans I've been getting up to on Tumblr/Twitter/and Youtube streams, you can find me pretty much anywhere under the username: Inkwell-Intrigues. I post a lot more art and answer questions there and I would love to have y'all!
Anyways, shameless plugs aside, there aren't any trigger warnings for this chapter besides general angst. As always, take care of yourselves first and foremost, I love you all and hope you enjoy!
-Ink
Cagney Carnation was having, quite possibly, one of the worst days of his life. First, it was the imps. Cagney had been so close to getting off of this hellhole of an island for good, at least up until he'd been jumped.
They'd come out of nowhere, brandishing their yellow teeth and speaking to each other in a strange warbling language. Cagney was sure he was done for, surrounded by at least twenty imps with an unquenchable thirst for blood, but then, his day got even stranger.
This ghost girl charged out of the bushes and bramble, single-handedly rescuing him, and swept him away to a safe haven: An ancient ruin nestled deep in the woods. They called it Castellum Cylix.
Incredibly relieved, Cagney was sure his day couldn't get any worse, but somehow it did.
The ghost girl, who called herself Chalice, left quite abruptly, leaving Cagney alone in his new and mysterious environment. And, to make matters worse, not long after her departure, imps were filling up every corner of the forest as they searched for their fallen compatriots.
"This is downright terrible, that's what this is," Cagney muttered under his breath, perched up on the fortress's walls with Miss Cyclops by his side.
While Cagney was still terrified of the giant and immensely intimidating Miss Cyclops, his boredom trumped his fear. Now, the pair were spying on the imps from the crumbling remains of a stone wall.
"What happens if them imp fellas find this place, huh?" Cagney asked, fidgeting worriedly with his roots. "Do us an' Ms. Chalice gotta up and scram?"
Miss Cyclops shook her head, gesturing towards the ground. There was a strange outline drawn in chalk around the entirety of Castellum Cylix, adorned with strange words in an unfamiliar language along with ancient symbols.
Cagney raised an eyebrow, "What, is that protectin' us or somethin'? Like, uhh, anti-demon magic?"
Miss Cyclops gave an affirmative shrug as if to say, "Close enough."
"Huh. You two really got this hidin' thing down, eh?" Cagney replied with a smile. "I know some people who'd give an arm an' a leg to hide out here till this nasty business blows over. You, uh, think Chalice would mind if I let a couple of my friends stay here? At least till things calm down, o' course."
Miss Cyclops didn't appear to be too sure. She was attempting to communicate her thoughts to Cagney when the lady of the hour arrived. Cagney grinned, about to regale the chalice with his grand idea, when he came to a quick stop.
Something was very wrong.
The Legendary Chalice was curled up in the middle of the courtyard, trembling violently, tears pouring down her ghostly cheeks.
- Chapter Twenty-One: The Window to The Soul -
Cuphead couldn't sleep, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. The boy paced in circles around his room, feebly attempting to calm himself after the terrible events of the day.
"What is there to explain? You- You're saying that the Devil, the one who kidnapped you, who destroyed EVERYTHING we held dear, is your father?
…What have they done to you?"
Mugman had been distraught. He'd sobbed for hours, clutching tightly onto Cuphead's arm.
"What if I'd gone to see him sooner? Maybe I coulda explained everythin'..." Mugman had whimpered, his face buried in his pillow.
"...There's nothin' we coulda really done, Mugsy," Cuphead replied with a long sigh, fidgeting restlessly with his hands as he tried to keep his own explosive emotions in check.
He wished he could cry too. Just scream and tear the whole room apart. But, he had to be here for Mugman. His feelings came after his brother was safe and sound.
"The Devil woulda just found some other way to get under Elder Kettle's skin," Cuphead continued. "It's just what he does."
Mugman glanced up at that comment, "Don't say that, Cuphead! There's gotta be some way we can stop him, right? I-I mean, look at what we've done already. Elder Kettle may be mad, but he's gonna be safe from the Devil hurtin' him."
"But… At what cost? How long till things can never go back to the way they were before?" Cuphead asked, the emotion rising in his voice. His self-control was quickly diminishing, it was becoming harder to contain his own anxieties.
"How long till we never go back to the surface world? Not because we can't, but because we don't want to?"
Silence permeated the room. Mugman's breath was shaky, staring up at his brother with such sad and desperate eyes. Had Mugman already lost hope a long time ago? Had he been relying on Cuphead for optimism that was long gone?
Mugman quickly buried his face back into his pillow without replying. Cuphead bit down on his lip, mentally kicking himself. Had he just made Mugman's mental state even worse?
Why did he even try anymore? All he did was make things worse.
He longed to tell his brother everything was going to be okay and comfort him, but that just wasn't true. Instead, he reached out, placing a comforting hand on Mugman's shoulder, sitting silently beside him, listening to the soft sounds of his brother's sobbing till Mugman eventually fell asleep.
There was no way Cuphead was getting a wink of sleep now, so instead, he paced in circles around their bedroom, waiting for the sun to come up.
The boy wondered if he should go see Elder Kettle. Maybe he'd be able to make things right. Or would his attempts do nothing but make the situation worse? It was impossible to know.
What would he have done a year ago? He'd promised he wouldn't let the casino change him, so, what would he have done back then?
That was a painfully obvious answer.
Back then, Cuphead would go running to Elder Kettle within the first few minutes after the argument. Barreling into his guardian's arms, hugging Elder Kettle tightly.
Cuphead knew what he had to do.
With a frustrated groan, Cuphead rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and headed for the door. He hated it when his stupid conscience was right, but he knew better than to ignore it. That had been what'd gotten them here in the first place.
Uproarious cheers and laughter filled the air. Cuphead was grinning so wide his face hurt. In the palm of his hand was a pair of dice.
"Hot dawg!" King Dice exclaimed, amping up the crowd that was now gathering around the pair of boys standing at the craps table. "These fellas can't lose!"
"You're darn tootin' we can't!" Cuphead hollered above the sounds of cheers and jazz music. "Just wait till you see this next roll!"
Cuphead was moments away from rolling again, Mugman at his side, when suddenly, a low voice emanated out from the other end of the table, "Nice run, boys," laughed the Devil, twirling his pitchfork.
The brothers gasped. They'd heard stories, but never before had they come face to face with the Devil!
"Now, how about we raise the stakes, hm?" the Devil suggested, brandishing a toothy grin. "Win one more roll, and all the loot in my casino is yours! But, if you lose, I'll have your souls! Deal?"
"Deal!" Cuphead said without a single moment of hesitation, a cocky smile on his face.
"Cuphead, no!" Mugman screamed, trying to hold Cuphead back, but he was too late.
The deal was already done.
Cuphead could still see the pair of dice rolling. It was such a vivid memory. He remembered how he'd felt when the dice came up Snake Eyes. The worst possible roll. The one that sealed their fate.
Then came the contracts, meeting Ms. Chalice, fighting the Devil, all of their fun adventures… Only to come to a crashing halt on that terrible night.
Cuphead was haunted every day by that stupid, stupid, decision he'd made. If only there was a way to rewind time… But, even if he did, he would've just gotten himself whipped up in one of the Devil's other schemes. With him, losing his soul to the Devil was inevitable.
What if he hadn't been born? Would that have saved Mugman and Elder Kettle-
Thump!
Cuphead had been so lost in his thoughts, he'd crashed headlong into the spiral staircase's banister. With an aggravated groan, Cuphead rubbed the now sore side of his head.
It was best not to stay in his head for too long. He didn't like it in there now…
Hurriedly descending the stairs, Cuphead made his way to the staff's dormitory. There was some time before the day's shift started, so Elder Kettle should be still in his room.
Trying to not wake the rest of the staff, Cuphead carefully opened the dormitory's door. Each staff member had a room, spanning the length of a small and dimly lit hallway (except King Dice, of course. He had a room close to the top, near the Devil's). Elder Kettle's was towards the back -he'd been the first new addition to the staff in fifteen years.
From what Cuphead was able to piece together, King Dice had been the latest person to join the casino troupe. How he'd managed to climb to the top so quickly was a mystery to Cuphead, but he didn't care. He was much more content to punch that purple-wearing cube in the face.
Tip-toeing as best as he could through the long hallway, Cuphead reached Elder Kettle's door. His heart pounding, he stared up at the door, motionless. Once he knocked, there was no going back.
Was it smarter to just let the argument blow over?
Cuphead shook his head violently. No. He had to fix this. He had to do something. He couldn't chicken out now.
Biting his lip, Cuphead reached out, knocking softly on Elder Kettle's door, "H-Hello? Elder Kettle? It's me, Cuphead. Can we talk?"
To Cuphead's surprise, the door swung open almost immediately. Elder Kettle loomed over the boy, staring down with an unsettlingly blank expression.
The usual warmth that filled Elder Kettle's eyes was notably missing, and it seemed like Elder Kettle hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, just like his grandson.
"E- Elder Kettle," Cuphead said, forcing himself to give his guardian a peppy smile. "I, uh, hope I didn't wake you."
"What is it, boy?" Elder Kettle asked weakly. He sounded exhausted. And maybe a little defeated as well.
"Uh–" Cuphead shifted uncomfortably. "Can I come in?"
Elder Kettle didn't respond, but moved aside, motioning for Cuphead to come in. With a nervous gulp, Cuphead stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
"Well? What is it?" Elder Kettle said, shuffling his way back over to his bed and sitting down. "Speak."
Cuphead grimaced at the demanding tone his grandfather was using. He felt like he was back at home, in trouble for throwing a baseball through the window… Again.
But this time, the apology had much higher stakes, and it wasn't as easy as repairing a window. How on earth could Cuphead managed to repair a broken heart?
"I… I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. For what happened earlier." Cuphead began, lowering his head as he spoke. "That- That wasn't the way me and Mugsy wanted you to find out."
"Find out what? That you love the Devil? That you call him father?" Elder Kettle shot back, his voice suddenly rising in intensity.
Cuphead flinched at the abrupt switch in Elder Kettle's tone, "N-no! Elder Kettle, you don't understand! We- We're callin' him that to protect you! It was Mugman's idea. He said it was for you! To keep Mama and you safe from the Devil hurtin' you!"
"To protect me? What a joke." Elder Kettle laughed derisively. "And from what would you be protecting me from, hm? I've already lost everything. I've lost my home, my freedom, you." Elder Kettle's expression darkened, "What else is there?"
Cuphead's face fell, "What…? N-no. You haven't lost me. Y-you haven't lost me and Mugsy! We're still right here!" He reached forward, grabbing Elder Kettle's hand. "It's us, Elder Kettle– It's me."
Elder Kettle didn't pull his hand away, but the expression that he gave Cuphead was so foreign and frightening that part of Cuphead wished he had pulled away.
"No, it's not…" Elder Kettle said, his voice low. "You boys haven't been the same ever since that damned deal. It was my fault. I never should've let you wander off. Maybe then you wouldn't have found that dastardly casino.
And the potions, why was I so stupid? I never should've given you those potions in the first place. It- It was the beginning of who you are today. You were just boys and I- I made you into killing machines."
Cuphead couldn't speak, tears filled his eyes, his whole body shaking.
But, Elder Kettle didn't stop, he just kept going, descending deeper and deeper into his grief, "If you'd never had those powers… The Devil never would've cared about you. All of those fights… Becoming Inkwell's heroes… The fame… I should've known it wouldn't have ended well.
And then, that night. That awful night. You were taken, forced to sell your souls, and nothing has ever been anywhere near how it used to be since then. The serums. The training. Ginette. It all changed you. Now I feel like I can hardly recognize you–"
Elder Kettle broke down into violent sobs, gritting his teeth, "I– I just can't go on pretending everything is normal, Cuphead. I understand why you did this, if what you say is true. The Devil is jealous, very jealous, of me. You wanted to protect me from harm, and quite possibly, death. But…
How much do you give up before you lose yourself completely? You and I could choose to play along with the facade, and do everything the Devil wants us to, but what happens then?
Will we eventually become just another pawn of the Devil's? Devoid of all morals, with not a scrap of our past selves remaining? I… I would rather be dead than live a life like that."
The words felt like a stab wound, a knife twisting in Cuphead's stomach, "B-but… It's not forever, Elder Kettle. We- We're gonna break outta here!"
If only Cuphead still believed that.
"My friend, Ms. Chalice, is gonna come and save us! Things are gonna be okay." Cuphead insisted, trying to comfort Elder Kettle as best he could. "We just gotta hold on, then we can get away from the Devil for good! Me, you, Mugsy, and Mama!"
The word 'Mama' made Elder Kettle's eye twitch. He let out a long exhale, trying to remain calm. Cuphead noticed his guardian's reaction to the word immediately.
"What? What's wrong, Elder Kettle?" Cuphead asked weakly, his heart sinking as he began to realize he knew exactly what was wrong.
Elder Kettle didn't respond immediately, trying to choose his words carefully, "Cuphead… You do know Ginette is not your real mother, right?"
In a split second, Cuphead's entire demeanor changed. His body tensed up, his hands balled into fists. "Yes…?" He said slowly, attempting to control himself.
Elder Kettle gently took Cuphead's hands, looking his grandson in the eyes, "Now, Cuphead, don't get mad at me, but- I'm worried. This Ginette, what if she's not who she says she is? What if she's here to trick you?
I mean, you met her not even a year ago, and now you call her your mother. I understand you think she loves you, but, what if the Devil is trying to deceive you? Think of today, she defended the Devil. Maybe… Maybe she's not all you thought."
Cuphead took a moment to respond, suppressing the urge to scream. He took a deep breath, mouth twitching. "Elder Kettle… I love you, but you have no idea what you're talkin' about."
"Oh, I don't, do I?" Elder Kettle shot back, his voice quickly filling with indignation. "What, does this woman know you better than I do? Who cares about the fact that I raised you boys, I suppose?
Do you even know why she's here? Why she sold her soul? What about all the terrible things she's done over the past seventy-five years she's been here?"
Cuphead opened his mouth to reply, but… Nothing came out. Elder Kettle was right. He didn't know why she was here. He barely knew anything about her, but- Ginette had done so much for him and his brother. That had to count for something, right?
"I don't know everything, but I do know that she used me, Djimmi, and the Baroness as her test subjects." Elder Kettle continued, his voice rising, "She restrained us to chairs. Injected us. Didn't bat an eye as we were screaming for mercy. That's your 'mother'."
Cuphead was at a loss for words.
He wanted to throw something. He wanted to scream and shake Elder Kettle. He wanted to tell Elder Kettle all the stories of how much Ginette had suffered for them. How much she'd helped them survive this living hell.
But Elder Kettle wouldn't listen. His mind was made up, and that was that.
"She… She's not who you think she is." Cuphead said, choosing his words very carefully. His anger was dangerously close to boiling over. "Ma- Ginette has done a lot for me and Mugsy. She got herself thrown into the stony lonesome because of us-"
"Have you not listened to a word I've said, boy?" Elder Kettle cried, gripping Cuphead's hands tightly, "How do we even know she was imprisoned in the first place? For all we know, this could be another one of the Devil's schemes. Cuphead, you have to be careful, we can't trust anything here, please-"
"A… scheme?" The liquid in Cuphead's head was beginning to boil, his self-control was quickly slipping away, "You… You think that everythin' she went through was A TRICK?" Cuphead screamed, ripping his hands out of Elder Kettle's grasp.
"What is wrong with you? Why can't you just understand that Gin ain't a bad person?" Cuphead shrieked with such an intensity that Elder Kettle flinched. "She almost DIED and you call that a trick? HAVE YOU ALMOST DIED FOR US, ELDER KETTLE?"
There was no reply. Only silence. Cuphead was shaking with rage, his face contorted into a glare. Elder Kettle looked like he'd been shot, as if the words themselves were fatal.
"You're nothin' like the Elder Kettle I remember," Cuphead hissed, turning to leave. As he opened the door, he glanced back, "You say I've changed? Well, maybe I have, but you have too." With that, Cuphead slammed the door.
The moment the door shut, Cuphead nearly collapsed, letting out violent sobs.
What was happening?
The Elder Kettle that Cuphead knew was gone. Cuphead, himself, felt different. Everything was different, terrible, and all Cuphead wanted was to go home. What even was home anymore?
Stumbling along, Cuphead sprinted through the hallway, not even caring if he disturbed the staff or not. He needed to run. He needed to get somewhere safe. His mind was racing, he just couldn't handle it.
Tripping as he scurried back up the stairs, Cuphead burst back into his room, hurrying through in a feeble attempt to try and not wake Mugman and shutting himself in the bathroom.
Sniffling and vigorously wiping his eyes, Cuphead rushed over to the sink, turning on the water to mask the sound of his crying. Now, with the sound of the running water, Cuphead finally let himself go.
He screamed and wailed in agony, punching the wall. The tile cracked, shattering into pieces under the force of his punches. He clutched his face, sobbing bitterly.
Why? Why him? What had he done to deserve this? Was he really that bad of a person?
Maybe he was.
The Devil had told him once that he fit in well here. Was it just his destiny to end up here, a soulless pawn of the Devil?
If so, why did Mugman and Elder Kettle have to suffer too? Why did they have to bear the brunt of Cuphead's flaws? It didn't make sense. It wasn't fair.
IT. WASN'T. FAIR.
Cuphead lunged for the mirror, his mind clouded with rage. It was only when he was a few centimeters away from the mirror that he saw it- His reflection.
It was too late for him to pull back his punch. The momentum was just too strong. His punch landed in the center of the mirror, shattering it into thousands of tiny pieces. Cuphead crashed into the sink, his whole body felt like it was on fire, punctured by dozens of shards of glass.
His reflection. It… It didn't look right. No. He must've just imagined that, right? His eyes- They weren't yellow. They couldn't be.
His breathing shallow, Cuphead peered up, looking at the now cracked mirror. His heart nearly stopped. Staring back at him was a pair of yellow and red eyes. They were glowing.
Cuphead clutched his face, his heart quickening. "No…" He whispered, resisting the urge to gouge his own eyes out, "No. No. NO!" He punched the mirror again, screaming at the top of his lungs.
With one swift motion, Cuphead ripped the sink off of the wall, throwing it clean out the window. The boy collapsed to the ground, crying bitter tears, staring at his disgusting reflection in all the shards of glass that surrounded him.
That was when the door flew open, Mugman on the other side, his face filled with abject horror.
Without a word he rushed to Cuphead's side, paying no mind to the broken glass he was stepping on. Kneeling beside his brother, Mugman grasped his hand. He still couldn't see Cuphead's face.
"What's wrong?" Mugman asked in a whisper, his eyes darting around the destroyed bathroom.
"My eyes."
"What?" Cuphead's voice had been so faint, Mugman couldn't make it out.
"My eyes," Cuphead said with ferocity, meeting his brother's gaze.
Mugman let out a gasp, instinctively reeling backward. Cuphead's eyes. They were bright yellow with red pupils. Just like the Devil's.
"What happened?" Cagney asked, hurrying up to Miss Cyclops's side. The sun had set and still, Ms. Chalice was curled up out in the courtyard, inconsolable.
Miss Cyclops had sat beside Chalice for a time, but eventually, Chalice had sent her away.
"Don't force yourself to stay out here for little ol' me," Chalice had said feebly. "I'll be in soon, I just… I need time."
"Was it the Devil?" Cagney pressed, anxiously looking outside at the ghost girl. "Did he do this to her?"
Miss Cyclops's sad sigh seemed to say, "Yes."
Cagney shook his head angrily, "That damned oversized furball. He's got all of us wrapped 'round his fuckin' finger. We have to do somethin'! We gotta take a stand. An' not just Chalice, I mean all of us. Until then, the Devil's gonna be nothin' but a thorn in our side."
The only response Cagney got was a nod, but it was more than enough for the impassioned flower, "Somebody's gotta do somethin'," he continued, hurrying out of the fortress's stone halls and onto the grounds, "an' that somebody might just be me."
Gritting his teeth, the flower began to use his roots like they were hands, grabbing large chunks of the fallen stone and placing in on the fortress's fallen walls.
Miss Cyclops watched, cocking her head to the side in confusion, and Cagney grinned, "First rule of war? You gotta have a protected base of operations. Sure, you two got your fancy charms, but what happens when those fail? I think it's about time I stepped in and rebuilt this wall of yours, eh?"
By the time the sun rose the next morning, Cagney had managed to repair a good quarter of Castellum Cylix's walls. Each and every small gap was filled with soil and thorny roots held the structure together, acting as another layer of protection.
Cagney, who was exhausted from the night's work, was just settling down in the shade to rest after a hard night's work when Chalice approached.
"Cagney!" she called out, floating over to him. Her big smile still seemed to hold a bit of sadness, but she was much happier than she was yesterday evening. "Cagney! I-" Chalice spun around, grinning up at the repaired walls, "I don't know how to thank you enough! I never expected you to just- Well, rebuild my home."
Chalice reached out, putting a hand on Cagney's shoulder, genuine tears of happiness in her eyes, "Thank you, Cagney… I just wish I knew how to repay you somehow."
Cagney gave her a cheeky smile, "I can think of a way. I, uh, have a few friends who'd give pretty much anythin' to hide out in a sweet place like this. You got any room?"
Chalice's smile widened, "Plenty."