Hey everyone.

So, yeah. Wow. It's been about two years since I've updated this fic. For that, I'm extremely sorry. There are a lot of reasons why I've been both unable and unmotivated to continue, but I won't waste your time explaining them here. If you really wanna talk to me about it, go check out my tumblr (the name of which is on my profile). In fact, I suggest you read my profile page as soon as you're done with this chapter.

However, I'd like to clarify that my reason for not updating hasn't been because I don't want to finish - I absolutely do want to finish this story! It's... special to me. Important. But I'll talk more about that whenever I post the epilogue.

I hadn't intended on posting this, but I figured anyone sticking with it and checking up deserved something. This is half of what is meant to be the last chapter. The next update should be the end of the story, with an epilogue closely following. Hopefully, I'll post the last two installments of this fic at the same time.

So... That's it for now. Again, if you want to talk to me, please check my tumblr - I highly encourage you to, in fact.

Thank you so much to anyone who still reads this. I really hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 26

High above, the moon sat suspended in the sky. Its beams stretched to encompass all below, strings dangling from the fingers of a great puppet master. This was the final act, and soon the curtains would draw to a close, the soft red and golden silk of dawn collapsing in to destroy this night. There was still work to be done – parts to play, lines to be said, and lives to be lost. High above, the moon watched from its seat, a great eye watching as the story drew to a close.

The strings of moonlight touched many facets of this story. The porcupine was running, now, and the bear chased after her. The raccoons were running out of ammunition and would soon be defenseless beneath the might of the rising gods. A climax was drawing ever nearer, and the accumulation of all which had led to this moment began to weight greatly on the momentum of the tale.

Many things had occurred. The sky had seen it all – night or day, it had witnessed. Confused and lonely hearts, a deadly white winter, evil as it broke from below the surface of the Earth. That's how it always was, though, the danger so insidious it could wait like a tumor, nesting inside while no one was the wiser. Such was sin; it lay borne in the hearts of all creatures, and it was their eternal struggle to hinder its malignant pursuit of their flesh and mind. It took a great diligence and power to keep oneself from succumbing to such a fate, the fate of the cruelest death: that of willing wickedness.

Yes, this tumor which infects all things, the very fabric of the universe, a chaotic unfurling of order. Such a vibrant and brilliant persistence, the urge for this universe to collapse upon itself. Such was this phenomenon forever mirrored in man and animal alike, the tenancy to break like a supernova, consuming all in its wake – that need to fight, for war against things like itself. What a contradiction that any entity should so despise and love itself it would crush its own image, given the chance.

Yes, thus the tumor had grown, but it had reached its biggest size and it would not succeed in devouring its host. The world did not work in such a way. Where there is chaos and war, somewhere within there must be order and peace. The foolish ones who seek to consume all work only to doom themselves – such a reach can never be achieved.

It was time for balance to return.

Moonlight skimmed across the barrel of a gun, flashed with the fire and smoke as the last bullet was fired. It hit one of the small gods in the face, and with a screech they cast their own bullet downward, one made from fabric and energy. It exploded the ground below the van, causing it to careen and twist. The raccoons lost their grip on the wild beast and fell from its hood, crashing into the ground.

They had only seconds to save themselves. The back doors opened, and the raccoons quickly pulled themselves into the safety of the trunk. As soon as Mime saw their feet leave the ground, he pressed the gas and swerved away. Only a moment later another burst fell from above, blowing up the area they had just been.

"What the heck are we supposed to do now?" Shifty proclaimed, hands flying to catch his brother as they sped away. Lifty had been hit with debris – a significant cut was carved down the side of his face. Blood seeped slowly from his sound, but he seemed not to notice. Adrenaline glistened in his green eyes, swirling into a toxic pool as orange light flashed through the car windows. More shots were being fired, exploding all around them. They weren't safe in the open.

"We need- we should find Flippy!" Lifty gasped, body jostling constantly from the bumpy ride. Mime nodded emphatically, but then grew rigid with uncertainty. He dared not look away to glance at the twins, but a meaningful shrug told them all they needed to know. Lifty's face crumpled with worry. "Did anyone see where he went?"

"Is Flaky okay too?" Shifty wondered out loud, concerned. All three males had seen them – they'd seen the bear up there with those creatures, those monsters, on the head of the giant beaver. When driving from the safety of the forest canopy, they'd even caught a glimpse of Flaky scrambling away from the fallen hospital tree. It had been quite the shock to see the great tree, destroyed and crumpled, lying on the earth like a dead animal. "I remember seeing her by the tree; was she running away?"

"I hope she was," Lifty sighed, his voice dripping with worry, and possibly tears. His hands were shaking. "What's going on? What are those things?"

"It doesn't matter," Shifty told him, trying to sound sure of himself – he was not. The fear seemed to vibrate within Lifty, and Shifty felt it beneath his paws, felt the tremors travel up his arms until they touched his heart. The fear was dangerous, contagious, like any ancient plague. They had to keep calm, though, if they were to survive. Besides, they were residents of Happy Tree Valley – fear was far from unfamiliar. So Shifty did his best not to let it show, tried his best to pet Lifty's shoulders and calm his brother down. "We can't worry about that right now. We have to find the others. We have to find them and get out of here!"

Flaky ran. She ran harder and faster than she ever had before; in her entire life she had never before felt such a pounding in her feet, the raging of blood as it flooded in her head. Her lungs and legs where burning, on fire, acidic, gasping for oxygen she couldn't supply fast enough. Her breaths were strained and loud and she ran. Flaky ran, and ran, and fear kept her running through the trees, over the branches and leaves and twigs. The darkness around her was thick, a trap, like cobwebs reaching for her, catching on her fur, but she kept going. Flaky ran.

Every now and then, she'd risk a glance to either side, or behind her if she dared. She had to keep the clearing in sight – she refused to run away, to flee and leave Flippy and the others behind. Flaky felt the tears burning just behind her eyes, and it felt like they might flood her entire head, drown her whole body. They'd been through so much, had survived for so long… Flaky had even killed most of them herself. She choked back a sob and continued moving – she refused to leave them. She would not be a coward. Flaky ran.

For the most part, Flaky did not see or hear her pursuer. She knew he must be light on his feet, quick, more than used to trekking through such dense terrain. Sometimes she could sense him, though. Feel his gaze pricking her from behind. Her body felt enveloped by pins and needles every time she felt him, all around her, chasing her as if she were his prey. Which, perhaps, she was. But the fear helped her stay on her feet. It helped her run. Flaky, with tears falling from her cheeks and feet starting to bruise and bleed, continued to run.

She hoped Flippy was okay. Maybe he'd be able to get away, or maybe the twins and Mime would find him. They'd be able to escape from Flippy, from the strange beaver, from those gods – no, those demons. Flaky's heart thrummed in her chest as she thought, please, let them get away and be safe. Let them live.

Flaky tripped.

She screamed as she did. Something caught her foot – a pit or a branch, a root. It didn't matter. Flaky tumbled forward, hitting the ground hard with her shoulder, rolling slightly with the momentum. Sticks and twigs and snow all stung her, poked and prodded at her fur, pinched her skin. For a moment her entire body felt like it was on fire. Her legs seemed to turn to hot jelly; Flaky struggled to get up, but she could hardly feel them. She looked at her feet, saw the blood and torn skin. How long had she been running? She wasn't even sure.

Flaky cried. She hiccupped and looked about frantically. With aching arms, she dragged herself to the nearest tree. There was no way to be safe out here, not with Evil chasing her, but it felt good to have something pressed against her back. Flaky shuddered with sobs and tried her best to catch her breath, but she couldn't stay quiet. Far off, she heard crashing and strange cries. A cacophony of unusual sounds were exploding and she could not tell what they were of. She caught distant cries – voices shouting over the odd pressure of the air. She heard animalistic screeches, only vaguely familiar. Flaky dared to look up, toward the clearing, which was just barely hidden by the trunks of trees. There were lights dancing there, now, faintly visible beneath the belly of the permanent night sky.

There was rustling somewhere to the right of Flaky. She porcupine let out a faint cry and twisted, but saw nothing. There was no one. Flaky swallowed, wanting to believe it had been nothing… but she knew better. He was here. He was watching her.

More tears brewed against her bottom lids, painting her eyelashes with the sadness of raindrops. It was cruel. It was unfair. Flaky had felt within herself a strong and fierce desire to see Evil again. Maybe it was strange, but she'd grown almost fond of him. He was scary and different – he was not Flippy – but something about him was unique and real. For someone whose entire view of reality was twisted and distorted, he seemed almost more down to earth than anyone else Flaky knew… even Flippy.

Evil offered perspective. He offered foundation. He had been kind to her, in his own way. It was by Flaky's own weakness he had been captured, taken, tortured. Lost.

He was back to his old self now, it seemed, and that made Flaky sad. She was more upset than she might have ever guessed she would be, over his loss. The bear chasing her now was not the one she had come to know. He was trapped and twisted into a shape he'd been before. Crammed into an old shell. She could feel it, saw it when he gagged and twisted to look at her after she'd stabbed him. His blood was on her hands when she looked into his eyes and saw it. The emptiness. The pain and madness.

He wasn't Evil anymore. He was gone.

Flaky bit her lip. She refused to cry. Instead she leaned forward, reached back with one aching arm and grabbed a quill from her back. They were still small, but long enough to be some sort of threat. Flaky held her breath, then roughly pulled the quill from its socket on her back. It hurt, and like with the first, there would be blood. Flaky ignored the pain and held it in her paws, clutching it to her chest.

All around was noise and silence. There was almost no movement here, only shadows and snow, and lonely trees. Flaky despaired as she consciously recognized that she was the brightest thing in the area. She was alive, and never before had she felt so close to death. All was still around her. Yet faintly, distantly, she heard what must be chaos. The noises back at the clearing where growing ever louder, fiercer. Flaky felt tremors in the air. She felt it inside, whether by instinct or intuition, or some other sense, that something was happening. Flaky trembled. She wished she could see, wished she wasn't so completely alone and lost and confused.

"Flippy…" she sighed, tears finally falling again. They were thick, cold against the chilly air. A sob popped in her chest, and Flaky gasped, suddenly devoid of air. "Giggles… P-Petunia… I'm so sorry. Evil. Evil, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't help. I couldn't do anything…"

A heavy, gritty breathing seeped from the darkness surrounding Flaky. Her eyes shot fully open, now alert. She stared into the dark shapes all around her, trying to distinguish against the pale white ground.

Crunch. A foot emerged. Crunch. She could see his face, twisted – the hatred stained his eyes like blood. Crunch, crunch, he trudged through the snow and came closer. Flaky could hardly breathe. It was painful to wait. It was agony to look at him. She was too afraid to look away, but it was all she wanted to do. This would be it. She could only hope it wouldn't take too long, and that the others had gotten away.

Evil stood before her. There was an ugly wound on his stomach, bleeding still, matching the stains that ran from his ears. He looked awful. Flaky could hardly stand seeing him so beaten, so torn apart. She hiccupped as she cried, although her feet dug into the snow as she tried to push herself away. He looked like he was in so much pain, yet unable to cry out, to stop himself.

"E-Evil, n-no," Flaky whimpered, shrinking as he drew his knife. His movements seemed sluggish, unlike before, when he'd put all he could muster into catching up with Flippy. "Evil, p-please! Stop!"

She doubted he could hear her, or understand her. The fear was digging in though, growing quickly in her chest as her heart began to race again. Everything hurt, but the idea of it all suddenly stopping was scary.

Evil's eyes sharpened, and he drew up the knife, its long blade like a talon curling in the nighttime light.

The harsh snarl of an engine cut through the air, and a crash sounded off to their left. Evil and Flaky both turned, and the porcupine screamed as a huge van came barreling through the trees and shrubs. Flaky crawled frantically away, around the tree, but Evil only had time to growl and take a step back before the nose of the vehicle slammed into him. Flaky heard a sickening thud as Evil was struck, thrown off the ground to crash a few yards away.

The porcupine cried out as the van swiveled with some difficulty, until its back doors were facing her. When they opened, Flaky couldn't help the tears that escaped, her heart beating harshly with a desperate relief.

Flippy, his eyes wide, bright with an emotion that sent Flaky's heart soaring, reached out one paw. "Flaky! Come on!"

The scarlet female hastily pushed herself onto her feet. She ignored the pain, how her entire body shuddered and she couldn't seem to stop it. Her eyes shone as she eyed the boys – Flippy hanging out the back, with Lifty and Shifty sitting up near the front. Mime looked over his shoulder, offering Flaky one small wave and a tiny smile. Flaky smiled back and reached for Flippy's hand.

She felt a weight press against her on one side; there was the sound of Flippy crying out, of the raccoon boys shouting with surprise and fear. Flaky had been shoved to the ground, and fell heavily in the snow. For a moment her head spun. The porcupine gasped and forced herself to sit up, look around, make her eyes focus on the world around her so she could figure out what had happened.

Flippy was shouting, and the sound of his pure fear cut through Flaky like a knife. Evil had gotten up – despite his wound, despite getting run over, despite everything – and was a clawing, snarling beast, tearing into Flippy's clothes and attempting to bite his throat. The bears wrestled in a mess of dirty snow and sticks and rocks. Lifty and Shifty were frozen to their spots with terror. Flaky could see them trembling, the flight instinct evident in their eyes, though they had nowhere to run.

Flaky felt it too. That old desire to scream, to flee, to get away and live, if only for a little while longer. But something had grown inside, and so she got to her feet. Her fingers tightened around the quill. She would not lose Flippy.

The bears where a writhing mess, but Flaky did not hesitate any longer. She cried out and threw herself between them, getting her body between Flippy and Evil. The normal bear below her gasped, but above, Evil was still clawing and reaching for Flippy. Flaky felt his claws dig into her sides, rip at the fabric and draw blood. His teeth found their way onto her arm, biting down viciously in an attempt to dissuade her, get her to move out of the way, but Flaky stayed. She huffed and worked at twisting until she could get her arms wrapped around his waist. Then, with all her might, Flaky pushed against Evil and shoved him away from Flippy.

Evil pulled away, lips stained with blood from her arm, and Flaky took the opportunity to shove him off his feet and onto the ground. She immediately fell onto him, trying to push him down into the ground. His hands gripped her sides, fingers digging into her flesh, refusing to give up or stay still. Flaky used her free hand to press down on his throat, the other lifting her quill into the air. She aimed.

Flaky's grip was strong, and just when Evil's hand flew up to dig into her hair, her hand fell and drove the long quill down into his chest. He screeched, as if he couldn't believe it, his face appalled. Flaky's breath started deteriorating, coming out in choking gasps. She felt tears again, and in that moment she hated crying, hated the feel of it, how it consumed her entire body and how it was something she simply couldn't control. Flaky cried as she pushed forward, fist tight where the quill had stopped – she snapped off what had not gone into Evil's chest, and then quickly plunged the other half into Evil's throat.

The bear beneath her gagged, mouth hanging open. His grip in her hair loosened, and eventually the fingers untangled themselves. Flaky listened to his arm fall into the snow. She could feel his breathing quickly fade away, heard it in the gurgling that began to bubble from his throat. Flaky whipped her eyes, moved to get up, but a hand shot up to grab her by the throat.

Flaky cried out, and in another second Flippy was beside her. "Let her go!" the bear snarled down at his mirror image, his other self, this twisted thing dying in the snow. Evil coughed, spat up some blood, but his grip on Flaky's throat did not waver. Flaky felt his hand was strangely warm – she couldn't even feel any pain, though his nails were digging into her skin. She lifted a hand to press against his and said, "I'm so sorry. Just stop, please. Go to sleep. It's okay. You can stop now, Evil. Please…"

There came a small tremor, staring within his body, ending in his fingertips. For a second Flaky thought some color came back to his eyes. His face relaxed faintly. His eyes met Flaky's, and she saw them focus, saw them look directly into her. The bear opened his mouth to speak, but he hacked up more blood instead.

Then he was still.

Once again, thank you so much for reading. Any reviews and feedback would be absolutely appreciated.