Two characters left and blood in the halls. This is getting serious…if it wasn't already.
OK, I lied in Chapter 4. THIS is the chapter I had the most fun writing. Fucking kick-ass.
According to the snail clock up on the wall, it had been twenty-nine minutes and forty seconds since Squidward had begun his parasitic conquest. Picking at all party goers, one at a time. Click, smash, zap. Dropping like flies.
Now only two remained. The adrenalin-soaked calamari, and the host of a ghost party.
Squidward. SpongeBob.
And the kiss.
Go away, Bigger Fish to Fry, we have bigger problems now.
But first, a little wake-up call. "What, no mourning, SpongeBob?" Squidward kicked Sponge to get his attention. "I figured you'd be crying your eyes out by now." Indeed, the sponge hadn't shed a single tear since the death of Patrick Star.
He couldn't shed a tear. If he did, the reality would sink in and he'd be an incoherent wreck. Or maybe he wouldn't. He couldn't take that risk.
He looked up at his nemesis, a much-changed sponge. More hardened, more tolerant to reality. "I don't want to waste my energy," he muttered. "Tears can't be wasted on a psychopath like you."
"Hm, s'pose you have a point," Squid conceded. "Why cry, when I'm going to kill you now anyway?"
"Correction. You already have killed me."
Before Squidward could fail to get his head around it, he went on to explain the meaning: "I was alive at the beginning of this party. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, ready to do anything. Then you came and shot that old life dead." Old life. Only half an hour ago, and yet seemed so far, so distant.
"I can't feel anything anymore, Squidward. I'm emotionally dead. You took my innocence, my naivity, and raped it. Gunned it out, electrocuted it…Whenever one of my friends died, a little bit of me went with them.
"You killed my soul, remember, Squidward?"
Only now did SpongeBob show a sign of sorrow, remorse, regret.
"You killed him right in front of me."
A stirring speech, but one that would not distract Squidward for long. "That's right, SpongeBob. And now your body has to go with it."
"Do what you want." A sigh emerged from the lifeless sack formerly known as life. "I don't really care anymore."
"I was intending to do that anyway; I'm not dumb." Regardless, he turned away, starting to ponder on the enigma what would be the death of his neighbor.
"How to make this death unique?" he pondered, walking around the room. "I've already made you suffer so much; would a little more make a difference? Maybe a chainsaw…no, too sadistic. Poison, maybe…takes too long, I could never get out in time…"
This mental argument went on for a little longer, each theory being counteracted by either an oversight or inconvenience.
Ironically, this would be the one argument which Squidward didn't win with himself. In fact, no one won.
For if he had been paying attention, he would have seen SpongeBob creeping silently to one of Squidward's possessions…holding it up…aiming…and…
Suddenly, a bang.
An abrupt stop.
A pain in his leg.
1 + 1 + 1 = 3.
"Bang?"
An about turn.
"Bang?!"
A stare at his perpetrator.
"You just fucking shot me!!"
"Actually," said SpongeBob, swinging the pistol, "I aimed for the part of your leg with the most major arteries, so technically I 'just fucking killed you'. But you were close enough."
Owwwww. Not a good idea to bring it up when your leg was gushing geysers.
"I…I can't believe it." This time, Squidward was the numb one. "After all this time – ow – all this torture, all this pain, you actually snapped – ow – and shot me."
"I told you, Squidward. I can't feel anything anymore. You hardened me."
"I know, but…" Trip, fall down, still clutching leg. "I just never thought you'd have the… the…"
Words failed him. Completely, utterly.
For the first time since he walked into the room, he had no snappy comebacks.
He was too 'dying' for snappy comebacks.
Vision blurred, he stared around the room. Stared at his victims, his experiments of the blade. "I…I actually made you snap, SpongeBob," he realized. "This…this is fucking revolutionary. In the…ow…event you survive…you're now unstoppable."
"Yup."
"And to think, all it took was the killing of your friends..."
The killing of your friends…
The killing of…
"The killing…"
Killing…
"Of…"
SpongeBob was the one surprised now. He watched as tears fell from the murderer.
"S…SpongeBob, wh…what have I done?"
Remorse? From him? Now?
A deathbed confession?
"What have I been doing? I never asked for this…I never wanted this. I…sob…killed everybody…" Oooooow. Leg pain. Fetal position.
His heart broke.
You can't help but feel for a softened criminal, one who felt guilt for his actions.
Despite all he'd been through, SpongeBob couldn't resist the urge to run over and give Squidward a hug.
"Squidward…"
"Sp…onge, I…I'm so sorry…"
"I know you are," he sighed, rubbing his back. "Me too. I didn't shoot you too hard, did I?"
"I…I don't…"
"Do you want me to phone the--"
"N-no… I don't think I'll make it…"
SpongeBob started crying too now. Once the tears started he didn't stop. A victim and his murderer silently sobbing together.
A tender moment, emerging like a flower from a crime scene.
Then – a stir.
"Sponge…Bob?"
"Y…yes?" he choked.
"Come closer… I wanna…say something…"
"OK." A shuffle. "I'm here, Squidward."
Then SpongeBob choked for real, Squidward stepping on the flower.
"I can't believe you fell for that."
Of course, thought SpongeBob. Not above sheer manipulation. And I fell for it like the pansy I am.
"W-well,"he spluttered, throat being crushed by Squidward's claws, "I suppose that'll teach me to avoid crocodile tears."
"Teach you? You've got nothing left to learn. You're gonna die! We both are. But a life for a life."
"A l-life for a life."
In fact, 7 lives for a life. Squidward scooped up a little blood from everybody, then shoved it down his victim's throat.
"Hah! T-taste that, SpongeBob?" he cried, voice raspy, vision spinning. "Choking to death on the blood of your friends."
"C-choking…didn't you already do that?" SpongeBob managed to crack a smile, despite his circumstances.
Crap, Squidward hadn't thought of that. "Shut up."
Bahaha. Even now, a laugh. "So you're not only a hack, you're not even an original hack!"
"Shut the fuck up!!" A tighter squeeze, a message to say 'cross me and you're dead for real'.
Gasp, rasp.
It was a tense situation. No one knew who would break first. Squid, or Sponge.
Professional, or freshman killer.
Slowly, though, the grip loosened.
Both visions blurred largely.
Hearts pounding in ears.
"I…" Cough, hack from Squidward. "I must admit, though… I never thought you had it in you, SpongeBob…"
Cough.
"To be a stone cold…stone cold…"
"Y…yeah…I…"
Blackout. Blackout.
Both stumbling around in the nether region between life and death.
Only one would make it back to this world.