Someone requested Fright Rider a while back. Sorry it took so long.

Chapter Twenty Nine: At Any Cost

Fright paced around an empty barn, wondering about what he should do. Nobody had come in here in weeks- he assumed that nobody he knew would ever come in here again. It was empty and lonely, but it was the only place he could return to.

The event that separated him from his owner was still in his mind. It was during a jousting match- or perhaps after. Ostriches weren't so good with time, so it could've been either. A cheater had made himself known, casting a spell on Rider that sent him into the Underworld. There were weird flashing lights everywhere, and Fright had run away in fear.

How pathetic. He should've tried to help his master. Sometimes he'd tell himself that there was nothing to be done, but even that was no excuse. He was a steed, a familiar at best- it was his job to protect his master.

A sack was set in the corner of the barn. It contained a substance called skele-oats that could turn anything Undead without the effects that come from entering the Underworld. With it, he could go down there without fear of the inhabitants attacking him. But the ghosts and ghouls and...ick...spiders, just made him shiver in his feathers. Was it even worth it to go down there? What if he failed to save Rider?

Of course, the thought of being alone forever was too much to bear. And he loved his master too much.

He would save Rider at any cost.

Even his life as he knew it.

Fright scarfed the skele-oats down. Every single last grain went into his gullet. The change was fast yet painless. His feathers molted, and he gained a bony shell. His wings became vestigial bits on the side of his body. His normal form was now gone.

He was ready to go.

The road through the Underworld was oh so creepy. Everywhere Fright went, there was a ghost popping out to scare him. Spiders crawled around the street, making him back up ten feet away. In little villages, vampires would bare their fangs at him, wishing to drink from his neck. He was thankful that he no longer had blood for them to drink.

In all honesty, Fright wasn't quite sure where he was supposed to look. He knew that Rider had to be in the Underworld somewhere, but where he had been sent was a complete mystery. His master could be anywhere. And Fright was unable to communicate with any of the nice ghouls. Anytime he tried squawking at them, his words were lost in translation. At best, he was laughed off- at worst, he was shooed away. It was near impossible, but Fright refused to give up.

At one point, Fright wandered near a caravan being held up by some nasty brutes. Well, it looked like that from far away. As Fright got closer, it turned out that there was only one nasty brute holding up the caravan. He was a scraggly-looking werewolf, carrying some kind of bone harp. The werewolf's eyes hungered for the items in the caravan, and he snarled at the skeletal ghouls driving it. They jumped away, cowering in the small bushes, but the werewolf didn't relent as he stomped closer to them. Fright noticed a tattered bag on the ground where the werewolf had been standing, and found himself creeping up to it in order to check its contents. Perhaps it was for food, because he hadn't eaten in a few days. He didn't find any in there- and the following conversation elaborated that this was what the werewolf was after.

"What've you brought from the surface to sell out there?" the werewolf snarled, his red fur bristling in anger. "Apples? Meat, perhaps? What've you got to offer?"

One skeletal ghoul struggled to stand up, bowing in fear to the beast. "Just bread, Wolfgang, was it?" he stammered. "Just bread."

"A big caravan for a few morsels of something as lousy as bread? Why don't I believe you?"

"We-we promise. Just let us be."

"Cough up the key to the back, then. Let me have a look."

He shook his head.

"If you're tellin' the truth, then you have nothing to worry about. Cough up the key, and I won't hurt you."

The ghoul fumbled with a key ring on his belt, his trembling hands causing them to drop it to the ground. The Wolfgang beast picked them up, snorting, and walked to the back of the caravan. Fright buried his head into the bag, hoping not to be seen. A paper hovered underneath his beak, depicting some kind of layout for a large building. There was wording at the top of the page. Fright was knowledgeable about written language, unlike most animals, and he read this wording as "Cryptkeeper Asylum". What a strange name, but maybe he could find Rider there. It had been a strange thought, but perhaps the ghouls thought Rider to be a villain and had trapped him in that asylum. It was better than wandering around without a destination, that was certain.

The slamming of a door brought Fright's head out of the bag. He watched Wolfgang stomp back toward the frightened ghouls, looking about ready to tear them to shreds. The ghouls hugged each other, fearing for their undead lives.

"Ah, I knew you were holdin' back on me!" Wolfgang yelled. "Just bread, ya say? Just bread? Then why did I find meat back there!?"

The second ghoul tried speaking up, but only a squeak escaped from his lungs.

"And here I was thinkin' I might let you run off with your limbs intact! You know who I am, but now you'll actually get to see what happens to those who hide things from me!"

The werewolf gripped his bone harp, prepared to smash it on the ghouls, but a sound alerted everyone toward a mountain in the distance. It was a kind of roar, created by a beast unlike anything Fright had ever heard. It filled his stomach with a sense of dread, a feeling that he hadn't yet felt down here, surprisingly enough- it told him that there was something worse that he hadn't faced yet. The roar made Wolfgang abandon his attack, having him simply hop into the caravan and drive off with it, leaving the ghouls behind. Fright grabbed the bag and ran after the caravan, remembering what he found in it. That werewolf knew where the asylum was, and he was the only one who could help him now. And if that roar was connected with the werewolf's intended destination...Fright couldn't bear to think about it.

It began to drizzle that night, making the ground feel squishy with moisture. It was harder for Fright to trudge on like that, with every heavy mud-soaked step he took. He needed shelter, and luckily he found one that helped him find the werewolf. Next to a cave in the side of a cliff was a burning caravan, the flames burning hotter than the rain that threatened to douse it, though it was only a matter of time before it happened. Another fire flickered in the cave, where Fright saw Wolfgang devouring some of the meats he'd procured. Fright stepped inside, now safe from the rain. He suddenly found himself unsure of what to do next, and simply looked at the werewolf in fear as the beast noticed his presence in the cave.

"Isn't that my bag?" Wolfgang muttered curiously.

Fright dropped the bag from his beak. He backed up as Wolfgang came closer. The werewolf picked up the bag and took the slightly damp paper out of it, his eyes widening as he remembered how he forgot about it when stealing the caravan.

"...Ruddy old thing, huh? The plans are all I need anyway," the werewolf muttered again. He retreated to his side of the cave with the items in hand. Fright saw him rip a chunk of meat off his meal and toss it toward him. He looked back at Wolfgang with nervousness and curiosity.

"Go on. You deserve a treat," he insisted. "Sugar-cured ham. Can't grab a hold of that stuff easily."

Fright sniffed at the meat chunk, recognizing the scent as something Rider would sometimes feed him after they won a match. Remembering his hunger, he ate the meat with gusto, cooing as his stomach filled with food. He watched as Wolfgang set his arms on his harp, studying the paper with his left hand as his right hand plucked at the strings. There was this feeling of glum that hovered over him, almost making him seem like something other than a beast that solely craved meat. Fright gathered up his courage and walked closer to him, looking at the paper and pointing his beak at the wording, only to be shooed away slightly.

"Why don't you go back home now?" Wolfgang asked. "You look like you could be someone's pet. I certainly can't have another mouth to worry about feeding, especially if they're goin' to be moochin' off me."

Fright crept back up, pointing to the wording again.

"Has your owner recently been cursed?"

He believed so. Fright nodded.

"Yeah, he'd probably be there. An asylum is s'posed to be a safe haven for those that need it, but Cryptkeeper's more like a prison. That's what I've seen from it, at least. They'll take people in for the smallest of imperfections, try to mold them into what they think's proper and correct. Nobody's fine with you being wild, but this place actively tries to purge that. Or perhaps you're a little angry or upset, even for a moment- they try to purge that to."

Fright squawked out a gasp.

"I've got a buddy currently trapped in there. Clumsy oaf with a strange spice odor, but he's an important member of my pack all the same. Botched raid separated us, but he's the only one they caught. He's managed to send me messages though, and they all talked about some strange...thing...not sure what it's s'posed to be, but it brainwashes inmates to make them more complacent. Probably some kind of beast. I'm told it's put to use at the end of every month, so I've only got a few more days to free him. If your owner was put in there recently, he probably doesn't have much time."

That was something Fright severely dreaded. Suppose he failed? Suppose he screwed up and got his master into even more danger? This whole thing was really scary. Even so, he was determined to see this quest through to the end. He didn't want to hide away in fear any longer. Rider was waiting for him, and he had to go.

Fright picked up the bag next to Wolfgang, his chirps coming out muffled as he tried to speak. The werewolf looked at him curiously, though he seemed to understand what Fright wanted.

"You don't want to go there," he argued. "That's not someplace you want to be."

Fright stomped his foot down. No, he was going and that was final.

"You sure?"

Nod.

"Hm. Fine, but I don't do charity, even for animals. Let's see...I help you get to the asylum, and you be my pack mule for the next few days. Then we can part as unlikely traveling partners. Good?"

Nod.

"Good thing we're solid, then."

Fright sat down, finding himself elated by what had happened. He was going to find his master! He was actually going to do something that required bravery! It was scary, yes, but oh so exciting at the same time!

The two of them traveled around for the next two days, making their way to Cryptkeeper Asylum. Wolfgang did a lot of thieving in that time, trading the ruddy old bag for a stolen saddlebag set on Fright's back. Sometimes they crossed paths with skeletal watchdogs looking for criminals, but the werewolf dispatched them with ease, procuring things like smoke bombs and tranquilizers from them. Fright was uncomfortable with that whole business. He always felt stealing and hurting to be immoral, something neither he nor Rider were capable of doing, yet the werewolf was nothing more than a beast who seemed to enjoy it.

Of course, Fright didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. Wolfgang was the only one helping him find his master, even if he wasn't doing it for free. It would all be worth it in the end, he kept telling himself. Besides, the werewolf made good company in the meantime.

They made it to the edge of the asylum one quiet, foreboding night. The tiers of the building seemed to spiral upward in some twisted fashion, like that of a nightmare. Smoke was coming out from the chimneys in large plumes, filling the sky. With the two of them hidden behind dead, twisted trees, Fright noticed that Wolfgang became tense with fear. Something bad was going on tonight.

"...I knew I shouldn't have squandered around so much," Wolfgang muttered. "We're nearly out of time."

Wolfgang prepared to jump out from the trees in order to assault the asylum. Fright quickly nipped him on the leg to keep him still, unable to warn him from rushing in any other way. They'd capture him too if he rushed in like a beast. Though in all honesty, Fright wasn't sure if there was any other way the werewolf could act.

"...Right, right, have to be rational about this," the werewolf remembered. "Um, um um...the back way. That's less secured. C'mon, bird."

They quietly crept around to the back, halting as they got near the doors. It was open, and people were working on dragging patients out. Two people walked out, herding a large skeletal patient in a gown out the door- when it was noticed that no more workers came out, Wolfgang zipped inside, Fright quick on his heels. The two of them nearly crashed into more patients, and Fright found himself unnerved by what he saw.

Each patient was in a matching gown, all of them standing in a line. Their faces were emotionless, their eyes vacant. It didn't feel like thoughts were running in their heads. Fright squawked at them, trying to get them to respond.

"Quiet! You'll get us caught!" Wolfgang whispered.

Fright chirped somberly.

"I'm sorry. They can't hear you. Their minds are gone."

It must've been that moment when all of Fright's petty fears vanished. Spiders didn't freak him out. The ghouls didn't freak him out. Wolfgang didn't even freak him out. None of them held a candle to the unspeakable horror that these patients had to have gone through. As far as Fright could understand, there were much bigger things to be scared of than spiders and ghouls.

"They've still got their name tags," Wolfgang noted. "...Orson...bloody heck, they're already on the O's. Oh, please tell me I'm not too late."

Fright chirped in puzzlement.

"Down the hall to your left leads to the upper levels of the building. If your owner isn't in this line, he's bound to be up there somewhere. This is where we split up- what I'm lookin' for is on the lower levels. Best be gettin', bird."

The saddle bag was taken off Fright's back, lifting the werewolf's burden away. Fright took his advice and hurried away, turning left.

At the end of the hall, Fright came upon a spiraling staircase that led upward into one of the tiers. He traveled up the staircase, hurrying as fast as he could. Screaming was heard, belonging to a familiar voice. This beckoned Fright to run faster, worried about what was going on. Reaching the top, he came upon another hall with a strange scene going on.

Two workers, appearing to be ghosts, had a patient tied to a gurney. The patient, stuck in the same gown as the others, was trying to write his way out. His voice was familiar. His face was familiar, though his green tone had been replaced with cyan. Fright had no doubt about it- it was Rider!

"Let me out of this! I don't belong here!" Rider screamed as loud as he could. "I need to get back home!"

Fright crept closer to the ghosts, listening in on their conversation.

"Sir, I doubt that this patient is in the correct condition to enter the Brain Chain Room with the others," the first one said.

"You mustn't doubt the power of the Brain Chain," the second one insisted. "It has the power to tame the most unruly spirits. This one is no different."

"But we've been receiving messages from downstairs that the Doom Raider we've held up is resisting it's powers. He's been acting up in the same way as well."

"It's probably the charm he's wearing to protect him from curses. Inform the others downstairs to take it off. What does it matter if he becomes cursed? Most of the subjects here are cursed as well, so it won't make a difference. And if it makes you feel better, I'll go look for sedatives to calm this patient. I don't think we need it, though."

The second ghost floated off to get the materials. The first ghost walked toward the gurney, shifting into a tangible form in order to tighten the straps. Fright launched at him, knocking him into a wall. He nipped at the straps, loosening them in order to set his master free. Rider ceased his screaming as soon as he noticed who came to his rescue.

"Fright, is that you?" Rider asked, his voice hoarse from screaming so much. "By the Ancients, what in Skylands did you do to yourself?"

Never mind that! They had to get out of here.

Fright stepped back as soon as he loosened the straps enough. Rider managed to slip his hand free and was able to undo the other straps. The ghost stood back up, becoming intangible in order to apprehend them. However, Rider was faster, leaping onto Fright's back and kicking his haunches in order to direct him back downstairs.

It was an absolute dream, Fright decided. He was riding off with his master once more. He'd feared he would never do it again, and here they were! Now that Rider was leading the way again, he'd succeeded in doing what he'd set off to do.

The two of them rode out of the building, swerving past the other patients and workers. As they hurried down the mountain, there was a sudden sound like a guitar, and it was noticed that the windows of the building shattered. Fright could only sigh at this. Oh Wolfgang.

Fright had hoped that his involvement in thieving would end after he found Rider. But, as it happened, Rider discreetly stole some clothing from a ghoul's backyard when they set it out to dry. While he didn't agree with what had happened, Fright understood why. Rider desired to ditch the asylum gown and into something more appropriate, and while he noticeably liked the way his "new" black suit looked, he also felt guilty about it.

And Fright knew himself to be unable to judge- after all, he'd corroborated as much with Wolfgang.

As they traveled back up to the surface, Fright noticed some more subtle changes in Rider. His master had them ride at a slower pace, rather than race through like usual. He was also more quiet, solemnly leading them through. Perhaps he was depressed as well, though the reason was unknown until they actually returned to the surface.

Having ended up in a sunny field one afternoon, Rider had them take a break. Fright watched as he sat on the ground, head between his knees. His shoulders heaved as he pouted, though it seemed that he was trying to restrain himself. Fright sat next to him, nudging his head in his side to try and make him feel better...only to be shoved away.

"I was just so angry, Fright. It was the only thing I could feel for days on end," Rider moped. "Nobody was complaining about me or anything like that, but those asylum workers took me there anyway. It's such a horrible place. I was starved, isolated, poked and prodded, each and every day. I watched as patients returned to their cells as walking puppets, unable to talk about the conditions. I don't know if the outside world is aware of it."

He wrapped his arms around Fright's body, finishing his speech with a woeful, "Oh Fright, why did you do this to yourself!? Curses like this only bring pain in the end!"

Fright set his head on Rider's back, sitting around as he sobbed. If only he could tell him that he was fine. If only he could tell him how far he'd go in order to rescue him. That he'd dive into a volcano for him. That he'd weather wind, sleet and snow for him. That he'd jump off the Skylands if he thought he was down there. If only he could tell him just how much he loved him. The truth of it was...he was happy so long as Rider was around.

In a minute, Rider's sobbing quelled, and he looked Fright in the eye. A smirk had crept it's way onto his face, and he pressed his forehead against Fright's. Perhaps he did understand after all.

"You're a good bird, you know that?" Rider asked him.

Fright chirped in understanding.