Welcome to the darkest fic I've ever written (I think). It a little longer to finish than I expected b/c I got sick and wasn't in a good headspace for writing, but it's done.
Finally.
After nearly four centuries my grand work is finally complete. Witches and demons, those infernal unholy creatures, will no longer taint the universe with their mere existence.
There were plenty of setbacks, of course— having to establish a new identity, far too many Grimwalkers that didn't know their place, and so on. But succeeding despite all my struggles just makes my victory more satisfying.
And to think I never would've accomplished my glorious mission if that devious harlot hadn't corrupted Caleb so thoroughly. It's truly a shame I had to strike my brother down to save his soul but it was for his own good.
Besides, his death provided me with plenty of tools over the years.
And it's a shame that yet another human had to die in all this. And in such a senseless way! I cannot begin not fathom why Luz would sacrifice herself for such a pitiful creature as the Collector, but she made her choice. Overall, it's clear that humans have strayed too from the Lord since my time. I'll have to thoroughly reeducate the population when I get back— get rid of any Demon Realm behavior that infiltrated them. We will all be true humans again!
Once Luz went down, the rest went easily. The Owl Lady and her tiny Titan devolved into even more bestial creatures that fell without issue. The Collector tried to save that little floating house he built, but this time I didn't miss him. The cosmic child vaporized in an instant, and behind him the Archive House quickly incinerated. The thought of all those wooden puppets easily burning to death, unable to move a single muscle, brought to my heart. (I suppose the Blight matriarch burned to death in a normal way. Serves the worthless bitch right.)
By that point my rot had covered the entire Titan. I could see and feel every unholy creature suffocating as my sheer might consumed them. Any Palismen still around instantly dissolved into the green goo that sustained me over the years.
But there was still a small chance something may have survived that, so I took one last measure. With all the power coursing through me, I willed this realm's air to be so unbreathable to any native species that it makes their lungs explode right out of their chests. The many more bloody collapsing bodies I felt afterward validated my suspicion.
And now they're all dead. I look up at the permanently darkened sky, symbolizing the complete death and destruction of these savages.
Long live Philip Wittebane, the Witch Hunter General! The Last Crusader! The most righteous man in history!
I love this victorious feeling! It feels just like burning!
Wait…
What's happening!?
Why am I growing weaker!? Why is my body crumbling and my spread receding!?
This isn't supposed to happen! This is my moment! How dare I be treated like this! I order this power to come back!
Aghhh! No! Stop!
Lord, if you're listening to me, you WILL stop this!
I said stop this fucking process! Look how small I am now!
Why aren't you listening to me!?
Arrhggggggghhhgghhggfgfgggg!
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
GARRRRRRARRAGGARRCGHAFJDJAKGGGTTRRRRRRR!
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I don't recall how long I spent just angrily thrashing my pathetically puny body around, devoid of comprehensible thought. It could've been minutes, it could've been weeks. Not that time really matters in a world where everything is dead and it's always night.
Alas, it seems that the Titan pulled one last trick to hinder my glorious plan. For as powerful as his blood is, it seems that my sheer righteousness was too much for the giant carcass to handle. Instead of empowering me to the status of the next Messiah, he absorbed my corruption and brought me down.
And now I lay here in the corner of my old throne room, reduced to a desiccated head, stump, and left arm. I can't move around even a single inch, I can't cast any spells to assist me, I can't even end my own life— that's how weak I am.
What have I done to deserve such a predicament…?
There's so much Titan's Blood in that heart right beside me useless, dull, inert, because I made it so. Just a huge sack of useless blue juice.
The child Titan's corpse may have some usable blood, but it's well beyond my grasp.
I am truly and utterly stuck in this wretched place, with nothing to keep me company other than Raine Whispers' remains in the center of the room. I'm not sure when exactly the bard succumbed, but I imagine being so close to me in my hour of triumph was extraordinarily intense.
And I have triumphed! Why haven't I been rewarded yet! I should have transcended death itself, pulled directly into Heaven just like Enoch and Elijah! Christ himself should be shaking my hand right now!
Aren't I worthy!? Haven't I suffered enough!? Haven't I earned salvation already!?
It's not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right… not right…
Days, weeks, months, all alone.
All alone…
"So this is what you've been reduced to, Pip."
Ugh. Of course Caleb is now here to taunt me from beyond the grave yet again. And of course he used that idiotic childhood nickname.
"Don't call me that," I rasp out.
"Are you happy? Finally satisfied?" It's as if the apparition didn't even hear me. "No, of course not. Because you need a goal to distract yourself from the fact you're always miserable."
"I'm miserable because you abandoned me! I had no one in Gravesfield other than you, and you left it all behind at the whims of a woman for God's sake! You should be grateful I had the decency to save your soul instead of letting you rot in the fires of Hell!"
"If that's the narrative you convinced yourself, then I won't stop you," he says, shaking his head. "I know you're too simple-minded to accept the truth."
What!?
"Simple-minded!? How DARE you!? When I get out of here, I'll make more and more Grimwalkers just so I can keep killing you forever!"
He doesn't react at all, just keeping that contemptuous glare.
Clearly he knows that unlike before, my threats are completely meaningless.
"I suppose I did physically abandon you, but you abandoned me emotionally long before that. I wasn't a real person to you, just a presence you demanded in your life. I needed to get away from that, and Evelyn understood me in a way you never did."
"Don't you dare say her name in my castle!"
Now Caleb has the audacity to look smug. "Oh, are you upset I had a perfect, healthy relationship while you're the most unfuckable virgin who ever existed?"
"Take that back!"
I violently reach out toward him, but he was completely gone, like he was never even there.
Was he even there?
Was that even real?
Is anything real anymore?
I've come to the conclusion that the apparitions haunting me are in fact, not real, and are simply hallucinations my mind conjures to keep me occupied.
Quite frankly, my mind is capable of doing a better job than this.
Caleb showed up a few more times, mostly spouting the same things as before. Other times it was that cunt Evelyn, taunting me for failure to kill her or her child. Luz arrogantly refused to see how I'd done the right thing, and just pointed out my loss of humanity. The Owl Lady didn't even say anything; she just pointed and laughed.
Lilith Fucking Clawthorne even appeared a few times just to punch me in the face again! I know she's not really there, so why did it hurt every time!?
The worst were definitely the preachers from back home in Gravesfield. Thomas Hooker and John Davenport and all the other Puritan ministers criticized me for taking so long to finish my crusade, for deigning to pretend to be a witch to gain their trust.
I yelled, I begged, I thrashed around more, but at some point I found no reason to care anymore. They just kept saying the same stuff ad infinitum, so naturally I lost all interest.
And right as I came to that realization, the hallucinations ended.
How long has it been since I last saw one? A month? Fifty years? Who knows?
Now I'm even more alone, filled with nothing but ennui and boredom. This must be what the Collector felt like, trapped alone for countless eons, desperate for someone to talk to. No wonder the child grew so attached to me.
I miss ruling over those pitiful creatures. I miss destroying their cities and petrifying the dissenters. I miss having a true goal in life, being a hero. I miss abusing Kiki and the Coven Heads.
I almost miss Hunter. At least he paid attention to me…
If I ever make it out of this infernal place, I should take up philosophy. Or perhaps psychology. Either way a practical eternity alone with my thoughts has taught me a lot about the mind.
Emotion truly does require external stimuli. When left alone long enough, the mind loses all emotions and feelings, and is left with a "null state", where the mind is in slumber but fully aware of the outside world. It's simultaneously comforting and disturbing.
And if that doesn't happen, then the mind will just spout random nonsense. And I haven't a clue what will be coming next.
…
Could I have designed a better mask? One that wouldn't have required me to shave my beard?
My beard was nice and fluffy and glorious.
I would've certainly avoided this dreary fate if I kept that beard.
No doubt about it.
"I'm serious, Vee. We can head back right now."
"No. I have to know for sure what happened to them. The pictures prove they were at Hexside, but their bodies weren't there, so where did they go!? It must've been somewhere like this!"
I awake from a prolonged null state by distant voices. Is this even possible, or has my mind just invented a new way to torment me?
Well, it doesn't matter. I stopped caring about the hallucinations long ago and I don't intend for that to change today.
And that's when I see it: light. Not some hallucinatory flame or light glyph, but actual ambient light. Ambient light that's getting brighter, and therefore getting closer. The one consistency between the hallucinations has been their ethereal quality. But whoever managed to stumble onto my ruined castle is real.
At last, there'll be an end to my eternal boredom, and hopefully an opportunity for release. I'm glad I no longer have the emotional capacity to react accordingly, because I'd certainly overreact to the point of eradicating whatever dignity I still possess.
Just then, I see two people carefully venture into the throne room.
Humans.
No, human. Only the dark-haired one is native to earth. Yes, this human is the one who told my story at that All Hallows' Eve celebration. The second individual certainly has a convincing human facade, but I can easily recognize one of my own creations, even if I hadn't seen a younger version of this form back on Earth.
"Shit, the smell is even worse in here." The basilisk seemed to gag as it ventures closer.
"Was this the throne room?" The human flashes an artificial light all around the room.
The basilisk shrugs. "I guess so. I only ever saw the dungeons."
"Any idea whose body this is?"
"Hmm… maybe that one witch Luz said Eda loved. The outfit matches a picture she had of them."
"Hmm… makes sense."
Alright, these two clearly won't notice me on their own. I'll need to announce my presence.
"Number Five…"
The basilisk and the human scream and grab onto each other. I really, really want to laugh at their fear but can't bring myself to do much more than speak.
"I had forgotten about you."
The two of them take a few steps to the left and finally spot my piercing blue eyes.
The basilisk violently shudders. "Y-you—you're still—"
"Tell me… how long has it been?"
"W-what?
I dryly chuckle. "I did everything you've seen mere hours after leaving the graveyard, and since then, time has lost all meaning. So how long has it been?"
Silence. Complete silence.
"Well?"
"Twelve years, six months, nineteen days," Number Five whispered.
Interesting. Shorter than I expected.
"And how exactly did you two make it here without Titan's Blood?"
"A scientist on Earth built a portal that works independent of Titan magic," the human said. "It took a while, but we got permission to use it."
Ah, of course. Naturally humans are capable of inventing magicless technology superior to anything from here.
"Now you're gonna answer some of our questions. G-got it?"
Aww, Number Five is trying to be threatening. That's almost adorable. Almost.
"What questions? About Luz? Does it really look like anyone survived my final assault?"
I'm not sure if my mind briefly blanked out again, but my two visitors suddenly got a lot closer than they were before.
"Listen here, you slimy bastard!" the basilisk yells. "For so long, for SO GODDAMN LONG I was left on Earth, hoping that nothing went wrong! That everyone was alive and well, just trapped on the other side! Boy, was I wrong!" It pauses to take a few deep breaths. "It took a year before I accepted they were never coming back, and by that point I had no more magic left to shapeshift! I'm not even a basilisk anymore, I'm just human! You hear that!? Is that enough for you to just tell me what the hell happened to my family!?"
Interesting. Number Five seemed to be the weakest basilisk, but this degree of humanlike aggression is something I wouldn't have expected. I suppose I will indulge its wishes.
"Very well. Luz was actually one of the first to go. You won't find a body, she just dissolved into little particles of light. Entirely her own fault— she took a killing blast meant for someone else."
I hear loud gasps.
"How could you—"
"And you won't find remains for others either, I reduced everyone in the Collector's little playhouse to ash. Turning them into wooden puppets first was the child's idea, not mine. Not that they wouldn't have burned to death anyway, of course. Burning is the most effective way to destroy a witch, of course."
Number Five immediately bursts into tears and the human quickly moves to console it. I don't know what exactly it was expecting to hear if the truth elicited such a reaction.
"I-I co-could've done it on Halloween! I-I had him! If I was just faster everyone would be alive!"
"Shh… shh… it's okay. It's not your fault, it never was and never will be." The human turns to give me an impressive scowl. "I can't believe I used to see you as a folk hero. You're just a monster."
"So you're mad at me because I proved you right?"
Needless to say, the human is quite outraged.
"Excuse me!?"
"'Big Bro got a witch girlfriend and Little Bro got upset.' That's what you said isn't it?"
"What? H-how did you—?"
"I'm a witch hunter whose brother was taken by a witch into a world populated by witches. What the fuck did you think I would do when I got here, little girl?"
Oh, looks like I struck quite a nerve there. The human's scowl is now truly venomous. Not that I'm even remotely bothered.
"I'm not a girl, I'm nonbinary."
"Oh, so humans are taking witch identities now." I quietly chuckle a little. "In olden days I would have rewarded such insolence with death… but those days are behind me now."
Now they're both giving me glares that could kill. Good, they just need to take that extra step and I'll finally be free.
"Hourly check-up. Find anything new?"
A new feminine voice suddenly cut through. I have no idea where it came from but the two of them seem to understand what's happening. The human pulls some sort of communication device out of their pocket and begins speaking to it.
"Hey Terri… yeah we definitely found something new. Someone new, actually. We'll probably be heading back soon. Tell you more then."
"Alright, give me the go-ahead when you're ready to use the portal."
The human puts the device away and whispers something to Number Five. The two of them turn around and start having a hushed conversation— I can make out enough words to discern that they want to hold some sort of funeral for all those dead witches.
Seriously!?
I'm sitting right here and they're discussing that right now!? For the first time in years I feel a genuine emotion: Anger. Rage. Boiling hot rage that's ready to erupt.
"Don't just stand there and treat me like an afterthought! Go ahead and do it already!"
The two of them turn and just stare at me confused. For God's sake, isn't it obvious? How can they not grasp this!?
"Don't you want to punish me for my alleged sins!? Don't you want vengeance!?" I point right at Number Five's face, almost touching it. "I made you, the least you can do is unmake me! It's not that fucking complicated! If you truly consider yourself human then you'll have the decency to just let me fucking die already! Don't degrade yourself to the level of those witches! We're better than them! Ack!"
Ah, there it is. That got me a painful kick in the face. Pain! How magnificent it is to have physical sensations again!
And it keeps kicking, marvelous! With each painful pounce my body dissolves more and more until I'm nothing more than a skull more withered than the original Yorick.
I look up toward the basilisk as it angrily raises its foot for the final blow, and feel nothing but contentment. It's finally, finally time to finally be rewarded for my great deeds in Heaven.
Right?
Yeah, that was certainly something, but I hope you enjoyed it in come capacity.
Also, check out "The Ceaseless Wheel" by Infinite_Magenta on Ao3. That fic really inspired this one.