Chapter 22 - Creepy Crawlies Alike
The Mecha Underlords' Devil Ship, ?
Splaarghön felt stupid that she was still in her casual outfit. With the helmet removed, her pink braid ponytail bounced around her back, the spikes removed to make her comfortable. However, it didn't feel right to be wearing it so freely while on duty. While the familiar dark hallways could have made her feel like she was home, she felt ridiculous pushing a cage cart with the help of a loyal subject.
"I usually hate your idea of leaving your targets with darts in their throats, but this is somehow worse," snarked the bat-themed fox cyborg. His animated and lively holographic eyes were half-lidded by the long line of the eyebrow. He looked skeptical, appearing a tad too judgy. "Did you have to kidnap this guy? He seems like the less intelligent member of the research team I found in that black site."
Splaarghön rolled her eyes. "If it's not the D-class personnel we keep finding, then where's the diversity?"
"The point of your 'training' is to inflict it on the most horrible," pointed out the fox.
"And then what? I keep using the same targets. Who knows how many more melt drops are lying around in the city. If I can't get my manipulation powers right, then what's the point?"
The prisoner inside the cage cart was stirring, slowly sitting up. A bag covered over his head and his body was wrapped in ropes, preventing him from moving or seeing his surroundings. He smacked his lips through yawns before realizing how dark it was underneath the bag.
"Oh my…oh my stars!" he shrieked. "What? WHAT?! Where am I?!"
"Oh, you're at the Mecha Underlords' Devil Ship on the seas just near Melbourne," informed the bat-themed fox helpfully.
"Dude!" hissed Splaarghön. "Don't tell him that!"
The fox shuddered. "Sorry. Couldn't help it."
"What are you doing?!" pleaded the prisoner. "Please tell me what you're going to do!"
"Well, you're just fresh meat on the grinder," said Splaarghön bluntly.
"And your only hope is the sweet release of death," said the fox honestly. "Trust me. She'll break your mind."
The prisoner let out a loud girly scream.
"Don't tell him that!" shouted Splaarghön. "I cannot break minds! I just usually break the synaptic neural communications in their brains that leave a hand floppy."
"You're terrible at understanding puns," criticized the fox.
Before Splaarghön could snide at the fox, Shaård came into her vision. As he casually arrived, he was seen wearing a more casual outfit.
Much like Splaarghön, he wore a leather outfit akin to a biker: a purple singlet that was clearly too small for him (hence his belly button could be seen), a black leather vest, a pair of black ripped jeans and black boots with mismatched purple laces. The lack of sleeves brought quite a spectacle he was unashamed of showing, the gains in his sharp arms smoothly painted like nature.
Splaarghön groaned, hanging her head. She didn't want him to see this. She saw the door right next to Shaård. A part of her wanted to sneak past him and toss that prisoner in, but her friend would have questions about this.
"Splaarghön?" said Shaård, raising an eyebrow. "What the hell are you doing?"
"She's planning to put him through some psychological horror and break his mind in hopes of getting her manipulation powers right," said the bat-themed fox earnestly.
Splaarghön gritted her teeth. "Do you want to be next tied in strings?"
"OK, OK. Sorry." The fox took a step away, his holographic eyes turning into thin rings. "I couldn't help it. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. I just can't hide my feelings and-"
Shaård sighed, waving dismissively. "Y-You can go now. We'll take it from here."
The fox looked flustered, but thankful that he was given a break to run away.
"Alright then," he said, bowing politely. "Catch you later, mate!"
The bat-themed fox turned around and walked away, leaving only the two human cyborgs alone with the squirming prisoner in the cage cart.
"This is one of the next training dummies you're gonna sauté?" said Shaård, pointing out the obvious.
"Yep," said Splaarghön, her eyes shifting to the door and back at Shaård.
"I'm guessing that you got another nose to break?"
"Well, if that's what it takes to get my manipulation ability right, then it'll sure do!"
Shaård took a glance at the prisoner already banging his head against the cell bars. "...I thought you're going to experiment on him with our weapon or use him for…combat training."
"Well, the weapon isn't really ready yet and we haven't collected all the Eden Apples yet. Besides, the stabilizer chemical still needs to be made." Splaarghön raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, you want to use him for knife practice."
"What?! No! I'm not that brutal!" insisted Shaård, waving his arms around. "It's not like I want to tie him to a stake, give him a few slices across his body for show…then pull out a mega chainsaw right up his nose before I dive it right into his head…"
In his mind, he daydreamed himself doing just that. Except that the entire image was in blood red and his victim was a filthy politician. The politician's scream couldn't be matched by Shaård's maniacal laughter and the clicking sound of his chainsaw dangerously up close to the politician's neck.
Splaarghön puckered her lips in a desperate act to hold back a laugh. She was imagining this extreme and graphic image floating above Shaård's head. Matching Shaård's woozy, droopy look.
He realized what he was imagining the second he felt saliva dripping from his lips.
"But not this time!" he said at the speed of light. "I'm clean! I've been clean my entire life!"
"Sure…" teased Splaarghön with a sly smile. "Now if you excuse me."
The pink-haired cyborg continued to push the cage cart through the door. This led to a small room complete with prison cells. Despite the technology they had, these cells were made from rusty iron bars. Splaarghön loved these cells. They were dirty, giving an iron smell that would question if it came from the filth or blood. And either way, the prisoners would be left there as animals. This would be the place to hold hostages and hide dead bodies.
At least they cleaned this room earlier. No sanitary problems.
As Splaarghön kicked one of the cell doors open, Shaård watched on with a nervous sweat on his face. He was a bit cool with kidnapping the scum of the Earth since nobody would miss them.
However, he had to admit that his proudest moments weren't using his captives as puppets. There was reassurance since they were taking God's role when He took too slow.
But seeing what the new prisoner was wearing made him wonder if they went too far with who they were dealing with.
"Speaking of torturing this guy," said Shaård with a strained smile, trying not to cringe. "He doesn't look like a D-class prisoner. Is taking a middle-income civilian…umm…" He made a hiss through his clenched teeth. He felt embarrassed saying it out loud. "...problematic? Look, this is serious and anyone searching for them might become our next problem."
"This guy was one of the Sunnyside Labs researchers and, if not, he was supporting them," said Splaarghön matter-of-factly. "It's not like people would want to sit next to him."
With that, she unlocked the cage cart and swung the prisoner right in. The two cyborgs watched him roll across the floor until he crashed into a wall. He slowly tried to sit upwards, but the ropes that tied him up made it difficult to even stand. However, the rough motions loosened the right ropes and an arm was able to pop right through them, grabbing the closest thing possible.
A hand.
"Oh!" said the prisoner in hope. "Another person! A survivor…as well? Wait, why is your hand sticky?"
But that hand didn't have any skin.
It was a skeleton slumped against the wall.
Covered in green slime.
"The fox managed to sniff his base," said Splaarghön, her fists clenched. "You have no idea what they had in there."
And in a fit of rage, she slammed the cell door. Hard enough to cause a dent in the iron bar she punched.
The prisoner yelped at the sudden sound, wrapping his free arm around the inactive skeleton.
Even Shaård stepped back, surprised by his friend's brief outburst.
"...wouldn't the military be notified about this?" questioned Shaård.
"And so, I let him get away with the other cowards?" said Splaarghön, her voice thick with ice. "He and his friends had been covering their tracks for a long time with the Eden Apples. If I hadn't stepped in, they would have continued using scams to trick people into becoming their guinea pigs."
She grasped onto one of the cell bars, growling in disgust. She didn't want to look back at what she saw. But she couldn't. The black site became the top news to her. The memory she held was important but enough to boil her temper. She wanted to spit at it, tell the world what they did.
But that would expose her plans. Have to hide one's crime to complete the other.
She groaned bitterly. "Or probably shape them into how they see us as…"
Shaård wasn't sure if Splaarghön was dramatic, but this was as far as her anger seemed to go. She had worse outbursts in the past, but she was mostly collected. She usually hid her anger pretty well unless reasonably provoked. Her eyes were already engulfed in fiery, ready to spark a fire.
Yeah, she wanted meat on the grinder to tear it apart for a deserved roasting.
Whatever she saw at this black site must not be good at all.
Shaård would know this since it was a ticking flag whenever Splaarghön began seething.
"So you're going to murder him?" he asked.
"Tempting," said Splaarghön, rubbing her chin. "But he would be useful. He's gonna be a good dog here."
Shaård remained silent for a frighteningly long while, uncertain about this decision. He held no affection for their prisoner, but he had some self-pity for kidnapping this poor gold digger. He didn't fully want to fall back into killing. Kidnapping wasn't his ideal plan either. It suddenly felt too cruel since…he just knew this prisoner. He didn't get to know more about him.
He closed his eyes and toughened himself up. He couldn't say it would get ugly because he should be prepared to see ugly things.
Splaarghön glanced at him, sensing his indifference. Her narrowed eyes softened, noticing his forced stoic expression .
She suddenly felt terrible for making him uncomfortable. But what she was doing should be the right thing.
She tried thinking of a way to reassure him, but this might make her sound harsh. But then, she remembered that Shaård had initial thoughts of killing the prisoner and he didn't look too seriously uncomfortable.
She wanted to make it funny again. Perhaps seeing Shaård laugh.
"Hey, Shaård," she said, pointing at the prisoner. "You know, he's like a dog!"
"A what?" responded the prisoner, offended.
"You know," continued Splaarghön with a twisted smile. "We have him in a cage. He's a ball of terror. He's like our pet."
"Hey!" shouted the prisoner, pulling his other arm free. "I'm not a pet! I'm a god!"
But due to the ropes wrapped around his body, he ended up flipping on the floor like a dolphin. With one good hand, he tried crawling forwards. That just made him more of a silly mess with the green goo coating him.
And Shaård quite agreed, stifling a laugh.
"I guess that he is one," he said, amusement bubbling to the surface.
"Oh, c'mon," growled the prisoner. "I'm not a pet."
"Aww, so cranky, that little guy," teased Shaård.
"Maybe a bone would make him feel better!" joked Splaarghön. "Well…he already got lots of bones to pick! He's hugging them now!"
"I'm not gonna eat my friend!" insisted the prisoner, oblivious that he was clutching the skeleton's head.
"Must have been rabies," joked Shaård, putting his hands on his hips. "Do we have the flea spray?"
"Sure then!" said Splaarghön with a sincere glee.
She pulled out a can of pepper spray and gave the prisoner a healthy dose of it. Even if the bag still covered his head, its thin material didn't protect him from the spicy effects.
"EYAAAARRGH!" screeched the prisoner, falling on his back. "What was exactly in that thing?"
"Maybe it's just your stomach," teased Splaarghön.
"Do you want a bowl of dog meat flavored in chicken salt?" asked Shaård sweetly.
"Do you really have that?" asked the prisoner, sounding serious.
"No, it's just one flavor."
The two cyborgs chuckled together as they watched the prisoner trying to get back up. One stand and then he slipped forward. On the head. But the raspberry he made when he slipped was too funny to take seriously.
Seeing how this guy knocked himself out was a little morbid, but at least they were laughing, even if it was lame.
The smile Splaarghön knew from Shaård returned. It was a sweet, innocent smile from their childhood. She smiled as well. Now, this was what she missed at times.
"Guess we need a leash for sure soon!" cackled Shaård. He laughed, his happiness seemingly returning. This didn't last when he brushed his vest to get dust off. "OK, I nearly forgot to tell you this, Splaarghön."
"What is it, Dickie?" asked Splaarghön.
To her disappointment, the joy seen by Shaård was replaced by his usual seriousness. "We have two situations going on. The first is that Drillaärgh's hideout blew to bits."
This was news to Splaarghön. "How so?"
"No official evidence. The cops were in the way. But it seemed that the Eden Apples the jackal hid exploded." Shaård sighed, shaking his head. "The idiot managed to survive when we found him. But he needs full repair, so it'll take days until he'll speak or write again."
"Is he alright though?"
"I can't tell for sure. The explosion must have beaten him up really badly." Shaård paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. It was a huge gap, but he was gonna play devil's advocate on it. "I believe it relates to the Bad Guys because…Mr. Wolf and Mr. Snake were reported being spotted nearby."
Splaarghön beamed, suddenly fangirl excited. "Ah, yes! I saw them too! I was riding nearby and I saved them from an unruly pig! Though, I don't know if the cops caught them now. I knew they could save themselves."
Shaård chuckled, amused. "Ah, classic Bad Guys. They eventually escaped from what I heard. They look more cute than bad. I mean, Wolf looks really nice! I mean, I know he's hot, but he acts more like a puppy!"
"You and your puppies, Shaård. But seriously, the Bad Guys are an upgrade!" Splaarghön didn't notice she was bouncing on her heels. As she imagined, she saw them riding at the top like a golden symbol. Idols to admire. "Imagine what it'll be like if they joined us! They changed the world, they defied the authorities and hell, they even got Governor Freaking Foxington on their side! What if we hire them as well? They're the perfect leaders!"
However, Shaård's face seemed to fall short. "But, Splaarghön…I'm not sure if that's a good idea."
Splaarghön was confused. "Why's that?"
Shaård was hesitant. "Well…earlier today, me and Oscar had a team-up performance and then…something happened. He suddenly fired everything in the room."
The pink-haired cyborg didn't get it. "Well, there are always mishaps. Besides, the targets you were aiming for weren't innocent."
"We tried to not kill that much," explained Shaård, trying to sound rational. "We expose ourselves. And then in the middle of collecting the Eden Apple, he froze and lost his mind. I think…this is a huge problem."
Splaarghön narrowed her eyes. "Us? What are you talking about? Oscar already understood our cause. No excuses! This doesn't have anything to do with the Bad Guys!"
But Shaård didn't respond in anger or retaliation. Just worry and sympathy.
"Look, w-what I'm saying is that Oscar isn't doing fine," he clarified. "I think he is feeling guilty about his son. He's suddenly contemplating his role as a father…"
It shouldn't have, but this surprised Splaarghön a lot. Not because of Oscar's guilt of whatever treatment he put his son through, but because it was the reason why he went into a blind panic. She tried seeing if Shaård was bluffing, but there were no crossed fingers.
He looked dead serious. His eyes were nearly misty, seeming mourning for the worst to come.
"What?" sputtered out Splaarghön. "Why would he think so now?"
Shaård looked down, unable to give the proper idea. "I don't know. But whatever the reason, I don't know if we should tell him about the Bad Guys."
"Does he know?"
"No, he doesn't. We just discovered they are in Melbourne." Shaård slammed a fist into the cell bar, leaving only a slight dent. "God, we are so slow. I doubt he knew since he would have made a big deal if he found out. He doesn't mix well with the Bad Guys. He clearly hates them! He doesn't seem to appreciate whatever his son does. I'm worried if he finds out, then…"
He gasped, seeing an invisible horror that he couldn't even describe.
"Then what?" asked Splaarghön, clutching her stirring stomach.
In the end, all Shaård could imagine was Oscar no longer looking like the Great White Shark at all. "…it might break him. I don't know why, but I can't help feeling sorry for him." His gaze turned to the floor, disheartened. "So much for a cold-hearted serial killer."
This wasn't what Splaarghön expected at all. In fact, everyone wouldn't expect this. The only person possible to see this side would be Mr. Shark himself. He was the closest to his father. If Shaård was right, that could mean Oscar was going through SOMETHING that prompted second thoughts. And was that something Splaarghön wanted him to live with?
She felt guilty as well, looking down at her crossed arms. She wasn't a mother, nor did she have a husband. But she wondered what it felt like in Oscar's shoes with the distance between him and his son.
And then came this soul-crushing feeling of losing someone you love when they never want to be close…Splaarghön suddenly wanted Oscar to be free of this pain.
This fear of losing someone who meant a lot.
"I'll have a talk with him about this," whispered Splaarghön. "Rest assured, I'll help him."
The solemn Shaård nodded. "I did all I could. You better do as well. I have a feeling he might leave sometime."
With no other words to lighten the mood, he left quietly without making a sound. Splaarghön was left alone in her thoughts.
Eventually, she decided to see Oscar later and focused back on her prisoner. After all, she wanted to spend a good portion of time practicing her manipulation ability.
Without dropping the lingering concern on her mind, she turned to the jail cell, where the prisoner freed his legs.
"Yes!" hissed the prisoner victoriously. "I'm free! Guess that you suckers cannot tie me down! Look at who's talking now when I tell the world of your big partner starting to lose his touch!"
The annoying, grating voice only added to Splaarghön's pity for Oscar. And it didn't help what the prisoner thought about the one person she trusted the most to get her plan done. The insult stressed her out before it turned into fury. Something snapped in her as she silently came closer to the cell bars.
In her mind, she discarded any sympathy towards her new victim.
She lifted up her hand and through that, she looked through the neural connections in the prisoner's head.
She found something. Something horrible. A long time ago, when the prisoner was a child. But that should be alright because he wouldn't expect to see it again. His arrogance led to him forgetting how petty he used to be.
At first, the prisoner didn't feel his captor was breaching into his mind. But it was only noticed when a whisper came into his ear.
"Pathetic."
Just one whisper and feeling a ghost floating away was enough to make the prisoner suddenly lose all of his confidence and scream out of nowhere. A scream that was muffled, but clear enough to hear the whiny voice in his sandpaper throat. He collapsed to the floor, violently thrashing around. He desperately tried peeling off the bag over his head. It was painfully slow. In fact, it made it harder to get out of the dark.
Splaarghön grinned at the beautiful display. The once self-proclaimed prisoner now turned into a weeping, miserable ball. Confronted by his own petty issues of himself and what others called him. Even the insults that were harmless. He craved positive attention to be free from the dark places. These were the places that made him meaningless.
The pink-haired cyborg groaned a little, holding her forehead when a familiar headache slowly returned. It was buzzing, but not as bad as before. She nearly lost concentration due to feeling the same fear he had. But there was actually resilience.
The resilience that led to not caring about anything at all.
Her left eye turned pink and her dark pupil turned yellow, glowing in response. Glitching.
Just as a grin crept up onto Splaarghön, a weary Oscar waddled in.
"Well, this reminds me of the good old days," commented the Great White Shark with no joy taken from the display. "Never give them mercy. They'll fight back for a worse fight."
Splaarghön huffed, lifting down her victim. The prisoner was free from her control, but he was still whimpering on the floor.
"I heard that you used to capture people," she said. "Beat them up for information. Kill them to get rid of threats. Test on them."
Oscar sighed. "It was a long time ago. I left that behind many years ago."
Splaarghön raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"
Oscar laughed dryly, wandering around the room. "I always wonder that. It had been a while since I thought of it. I sometimes thought it was meant to be for good competition. Or something like 'where's the fun in unpredictability for your targets'. With these…made-up rules, I nearly forgot why I gave up kidnapping…until recently. I let them go since they tried hurting my son. What comes around goes around."
There was no mirth or levity in Oscar's voice. Replaced by an aging shell of himself. He couldn't stop walking around the room, his long look telling of wanting something to look up to.
Splaarghön was starting to see what Shaård meant. His glassy eyes weren't looking at anything in particular. Not even at their pathetic victim.
The pink-haired cyborg crossed her arms while keeping a soft look. "Shaård told me what happened today. Tell me."
"...just take what your friend said," said Oscar, barely audible.
"I'm asking you. Not him."
Oscar was able to not flinch. The Great White Shark wouldn't flinch at all. But he felt like doing so. Today's earlier vision remained in his mind despite Shaård's reassurance that his son would eventually come back to see him again. He didn't want to recite the danger he felt despite being invincible. He was meant to be invincible.
"It's…it's only one time," growled Oscar, trying his best not to tremble. "It won't happen again."
"I'm not disappointed in you," heartened Splaarghön.
"No, you don't…no. Look, it's just some kind of dream that I'm having! Normally, I don't feel that! It's not like I care at all, right?" Oscar chuckled shakingly. Even he was afraid of how he laughed. So broken. So energetic in worry. "Right? I mean…being a father means you get to do what you want, heh heh…"
This wasn't helping his case. Splaarghön got close enough for her to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. The touch was cold for Oscar. He flashed a look at the younger human.
"Guess that it's not easy looking back," she said sympathetically.
Oscar bit his lip, not liking the way it was told. He didn't need her pity for this. He could handle this.
However, he felt tired of keeping up the facade.
"Splaarghön," he said, averting eye contact. "I'm sorry. But…I can't make it."
"Can't make what?" asked Splaarghön.
"I cannot make the chemical for you. The one that lets you brainwash your targets better?"
Splaarghön was growing unnerved. "Why are you saying this?"
"There's another reason why I haven't been testing on people ever since," said Oscar sternly. "And I'm NOT going back to what mistakes that chemical can create. You have no idea."
"So you don't trust me to use the special chemical? This is our only shot at making a better world! Why hesitate?"
Oscar was about to say it could hurt his son, but he didn't know if this would reinforce his reason. Eventually, he settled with this:
"...I fear it will be out of 'our' control."
Splaarghön was silent for a while. Oscar rolled his eyes at the coming event of her complaining about this. But instead of lashing out, he didn't expect her to continue using the same gentle voice.
"Fear can haunt us, Oscar," Splaarghön said with a calm and understanding stance. "I'm surprised you have that, but it must have been hidden away for so long that you don't know how to tackle it. It can be an obstacle to success."
Oscar grunted with a pout. "Let me guess, fear cannot get in your way of perfect order? Cause…with all that making a better place and not letting negatives get in your vision because it messes up your fantasy, bla, bla, bla. I think I know the story already."
Despite feeling a bit pissed by Oscar's lack of commitment, Splaarghön smirked in amusement. "I actually got a new one for you."
She found a nearby chair and scraped it across the room, steering it right in front of Oscar. She sat down, digging into how she empowered herself. In the chair, she got to narrate the story.
"I once was lost, misunderstood and most importantly…" When she saw the look on Oscar's face, she gave the look that it was expected of him. "Betrayed. It's a feeling you have ever since your son deflected to the Bad Guys. And it's eating you alive."
She paused for a second, slowly remembering how that felt like. And without noticing it, she suddenly felt empty. A blank space that carried words echoing through it like they were the only things she could hear.
"For a long time, I wished I could take back my words. But it's eventually not about her. She's…she's the one who doesn't see things the way I do. She never learns from even herself, so why should I give her the chance?"
Oscar raised an eyebrow, wondering what Splaarghön was talking about. He guessed that she probably had a girlfriend (not the romantic kind), but he never got the chance to think further.
"…but then, when I found the Eden Apples," continued Splaarghön, her voice becoming whispery. A look of euphoria overtook her, distracting her from the feeling of isolation. "It reminded me of why I built this empire in the first place. What I feel destined for. This pain, this fear of losing what you had, it can break you…"
She lifted up a hand, clenching it into a fist. A will to hold this power forever.
"...or it can shape you into something greater. Remember back to why you became a criminal. Your reason?"
Oscar didn't know where this was going. Amid his confusion, he held no conflicting emotions to this question.
"I just grew up with it and I have no regrets," he said.
"And did it make you happy?" questioned Splaarghön. "It didn't bother you most of the time?"
Oscar thought about it. There were a few unhappy moments whenever he and Lou couldn't get along. But remembering what Shaård said, maybe there were a few things Lou used for his own good for his own con artist path.
"In a nutshell," summarized Oscar.
"Even if you're a shark?" asked Splaarghön, tilting her head.
The Great White Shark snorted. "Why's that? It's who I am. I'm an animal."
Splaarghön felt a sense of eureka. She couldn't stop herself standing on top of the chair.
"That's your true nature!" she said, feeling her hope returning and filling in the blank space. And her standing on the top of the world told a lot of how much her word should matter. "You need to use that to let your old, weak self down."
This caught Oscar off-guard. Did she say that he was…weak?
"So that the fear of pain won't control you for too long," said Splaarghön with a sympathetic smile. "These feelings will be clichés trying to shoot down the people who cannot pick themselves up. It's awful being in constant worry. But to succeed completely in what you do best, worry is the last thing you can't succumb to or tempt."
Oscar didn't think that much about being in constant worry. It sounded like she wanted him to push down any worry he had. Smart to be a cold-hearted criminal, but he wondered what holes were left to bandage.
"What about what Lou will think?" he asked cautiously. "Will he agree with you?"
Splaarghön took the time to think about it. She narrowed her eyes in frustration at the possibility of the Bad Guys opposing. However, she shrugged with acknowledgement. She couldn't really force them after all. They're THE Bad Guys.
"That's for me to decide what to do if he sees my intentions or not," she said with a smile. "But he did the impossible. The Bad Guys did the impossible after knowing their destiny to get through their well of anger, denial and self-loathing. In order for you to fix whatever's unsolved, you need to embrace what you're destined for. You're the Great White Shark. You're strong, just like how you want to be."
The Great White Shark was left in a state of wonder. He didn't look happy or sad but curious. He looked down at one of his hands, admiring the black coating on his palm. The cyborg side of him. He suddenly felt new. But he still felt comfortable in his current body.
At first, Oscar didn't know if Splaarghön was right about this. Staying carefree wouldn't last long, evident with Shaård's more sensitive side. However, Splaarghön had a point. Oscar shouldn't be afraid of the hallucination he saw. He should laugh in the face of it! He's the Great White Shark for a reason! He was the fear for a reason! And these were things that made him happy.
It told him that he had nearly forgotten why he loved his job and why he loved to torment his prisoners.
And if he didn't hesitate, then his son wouldn't have run away.
"To be happy with what you're doing, you need to trust your intentions," said Splaarghön. "I need the chemical, but I'm not doing this without your help. I promise we'll get through this together. You won't need to worry; it'll be under our control when we are not controlled by worries, the way we want it."
In Oscar's mind, this felt rational. This was a new kind of comfort he never knew. Shaård's advice might have been about needing to be fair, but this was more for the good ones. Splaarghön was right. How could he ever feel like himself if he trusted his fears? How would he know that the chemical might not be the right thing to help this empire change the world?
His previous softness was slowly overwritten as he took in a deep breath. Letting it go felt like a weight off his shoulders. He was starting to feel alright, thinking back fondly of when he was feared. Fluttering his eyes opened and renewed, he gazed at the proud, smiling Splaarghön.
He heard a moan from the prisoner, slowly waking up from his earlier meltdown. He still looked pathetic, clinging to the floor as he tried to uncurl his arms and legs. It reminded Oscar a lot of his son, eliciting his regret.
And then, the prisoner was suddenly gone. In his place was his son.
Oscar yelped, immediately realizing that reality was bending again. He looked around, trying to see if anybody noticed. However, Splaarghön looked more confused about his reaction. He tried swallowing, but his throat was dry. And then, he remembered his treatment of those he kidnapped.
The good old days when he showed them no mercy.
Reflexively, he formed a weapon from his hand and shot the prisoner.
Splaarghön nearly fell off the chair, the rumble of the blast felt across the room. The authority and control Oscar once had suddenly returned. It was so intense that it nearly drowned out other sounds, leaving a powerful impact on Oscar's actions. His return to his true savageness to everyone.
Oscar blinked, realizing what he had done. He tried to say a few words, but all that came out were pathetic stutters.
And then, his vision changed again and he could see the prisoner instead of his son. It wasn't Lou.
He blinked a couple of times, testing what he might see next. He scrunched his face up in self-disgust and self-pity, unable to believe he felt awful when he saw his son again.
"What just happened?" asked Splaarghön.
"...nothing," said Oscar, trying to push down his uncertainty. "It was just a distraction. I'm not letting that get in my way now."
The younger human didn't expect this, but it was a good start. "...well, I guess that works. Though, bummer. That wasted my latest test subject for my manipulation ability."
"So now what?"
Splaarghön just waved a hand dismissively with a kind smile. "You can start cleaning up this mess. That's a good distraction."
Oscar shrugged apathetically. "I'm used to seeing blood and flesh."
"You can chew on those bones. We got plenty now-"
"No. I don't have time for that. I have standards."
It didn't come to Splaarghön to alert Oscar about the Bad Guys.
It was only when she was walking back to her bedroom that she remembered. Break it to him about the Bad Guys in Melbourne. Shaård sounded hesitant to do the deed, but if he was the main leader, then he would have done so anyway.
She stopped for a moment. It could be an excellent way to ease Oscar into this instead of going insane again if he figured it out the hard way. Telling the truth would save the heartbreak. But then, she remembered the pep talk she gave to him.
Splaarghön nearly thought of going back…but she shrugged. Oscar would know what to do. He was even older than her, so he would think about her advice! By then, he wouldn't mind if the Bad Guys were against them. It wasn't like a family tiff between him and his son would ruin him. He would be more understanding with them and his interests would eventually align with theirs. She was right, right?
A buzz from her phone. She pulled it out, realizing it was another message from the other members of her empire. Well, sort of. Those were more of the followers of the empire but not actively working. They were the people who supported her movement. The ones who wait until the time comes to rise.
She smiled to herself, remembering as well that these supporters were everywhere. Always having their eyes active in the city. On the streets to see the daily gossip or any disconcerting problems. She remembered casually asking them about the Bad Guys today and immediately, messages came in.
The recent one had something in regard to where they were staying. The last time they saw them was from last night: Phillip Hotel.
There was even a camera image to prove it, showing a black-and-white picture of a blurred Snake being the last to enter the hotel.
Splaarghön wondered why this wasn't reported to the police, but then again, maybe this person felt that the police would be useless chasing the Bad Guys.
Might as well make a visit when they weren't arrested yet.
Phillip Hotel, Melbourne, Australia
Splaarghön managed to teleport to the right destination. Her teleporting powers weren't as strong as she wished for them to be.
She could barely teleport from the Opera House to the Great Statue of Liberty without taking at least a thousand stops. That cost her coming home wet since this included crossing over the water. Thankfully, she didn't need to worry much about finding the Phillip Hotel. The images made it easier for her to imagine the place to travel to.
After deciding to go out in the city first to get close, she teleported herself into one of the floors. She dusted the pink glitches off her jacket, admiring the resemblance to pink glitter. Despite her hardcore look, that couldn't mean she could be a little flamboyant. She looked over at the reflection in a nearby window, checking that her cyborg parts weren't visible.
Thankfully, her face quickly returned to a normal human face as fast as the pink glitches disappeared.
She didn't really know where to start. Walking down the corridor, she wondered how she would find the Bad Guys here. It wasn't stated whether they were staying in one of the rooms. Might as well have to find them manually.
But the thought of that made her bit her lip. She wasn't…really good at knocking door to door like a salesman.
She wished that she dragged Shaård along. After all, he used more passion than logic.
"So…Snake," said a voice. "That's your real name, Stevie?"
Splaarghön felt her heart skip a beat.
The voice was muffled right behind one of the doors. For some reason, she recognized it from the live news broadcasts she saw. This one was a little deep yet gave this vibe of being a father. Or a mother. It sounded like Mr. Shark.
"Yeah…" came a new one. This one was more raspy than the first.
Splaarghön gulped, trying to calm herself. She was already growing excited. She never knew she would feel like a fangirl again. Her heart was beating wildly. And it increased when she was close to the people she admired.
But when she crept closer to the door, she had to glue her ear to the wall to hear the noise properly. She couldn't do it on the door in case somebody popped out.
"Well, it's…not a bad name," said a female voice, sounding like Diane Foxington's.
"Yeah, yeah," muttered Snake's voice in fake annoyance. "Sorry that I…didn't tell earlier."
"Is it due to the same reason as Wolf's?" asked another voice with a heavy accent.
A single pause. "No…it has been a while since I called myself 'Stevie'. I really do want to be called that again. I forgot about revealing to you guys. I just got so used to being called 'Mr. Snake'."
"It's alright, sweetheart," reassured another deep voice, sounding like Mr. Wolf's. "I…I had the same trouble as well."
"Me too," said a second female voice, sounding more raspier than the first. "That's why I nearly forgot to tell Diane about my real name."
A long sigh could be heard from Diane. "…will you two be alright? After what happened at-?"
"Look, forget it," snarled Snake bitterly. "It's not worth it."
"…you're sure? Because-"
"Knock it off. I…I don't want to cause…"
"Snake," said Wolf gently. "Sweetheart, you can tell us. You can tell me. Besides, neither of us…were really ready."
There were a few more seconds of awful silence. Splaarghön narrowed her eyes, slowly pinning her ear against the door as if they were whispering. She tried to think of what she could do to hear more of their juicy talk. Especially that Snake's REAL NAME was revealed.
But trying to think of a foolproof plan proved to be time-consuming.
WHAM!
The next thing Splaarghön had to consider for her 'foolproof plan' was the oak wood door glued against her cheek. The door moved further, dragging her stuck face along. And once it stopped, she was sandwiched between the wall and the door. The enabler, Snake, slithered out of the room, seething in internal frustration.
"I-I need to go back to my room," he managed to say, trying to not sound spiteful. "Wolf, you can leave the dinner on my bed…"
Nobody argued from the inside. They saw what happened, so Snake wouldn't want to talk more about it now. For Wolf, he knew that Snake needed some alone time. He even considered taking a walk for himself as well to recollect his thoughts. As soon as Snake could tell the others weren't complaining, he closed the door.
To his shock, the reptile found the unfortunate Splaarghön's face STILL glued to the door with her feet dragging along.
Snake let out another squeak and pulled her out from the door. "Oh lord! I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."
Splaarghön could barely respond.
Firstly, due to her face squishing against the door. Her face was turning red as her hair. A mixture of frustration and embarrassment rushed through her head.
However, the second thing was that the one and only Mr. Snake was talking to her! The criminal himself!
Oh wait, she didn't plan what to say to the Bad Guys.
Splaarghön was frozen. She wasn't currently the blunt and ruthless figure.
And here she was in her casual clothes in front of someone who could tear her apart.
She didn't need to worry about this. She was more worried about the mistrust. She came all this way to hear Snake and the Bad Guys. Might as well try to get this party started.
Splaarghön grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. "Oh, um…hi there? Stevie? Mr. Snake?"
Snake's eyes widened in alarm. "What?"
"Oh no, no, no," stuttered Splaarghön, stepping back. "I just overheard about your name? I mean, I wasn't looking around for you or…I just got lost and…"
Way smooth there, Splaarghön.
Snake narrowed his eyes. Out of all the people, some stranger overheard his name being said out loud. Was she spying on him?!
But then, his eyes widened when he observed the pink and black colors she wore. She looked like the exact same biker who saved his neck from Baron…
His mouth was slumped open. "It was you who killed Baron."
Splaarghön chuckled sheepishly, added with a childish eye roll. "Yeah, yeah. Don't worry. It's not a poisonous dart!"
Snake gulped nervously. "Yeah, hope for that, kid. Who are you exactly?"
Splaarghön nearly thought of telling him her name, but then, she remembered that he and Wolf seemed to have got into a scuffle with Drillaärgh. Who knew how much they learnt from HIM? The idiot was supposed to look for new potential rookies, but if that explosion was due to anything, then it showed otherwise. And Snake might freak out the second she showed herself to be a threat.
So Splaarghön had to play the long game now.
"...Adeline," she said simply. "My name is Adeline Mia."
It was a stupid move, but since Snake's name was revealed, she might as well try to get somewhere personal.
"Adeline…?" said Snake, raising an eyebrow. "Well, nice to meet you?" And then, he switched to his grumpy mood. "Sure. Sure. You can still call me 'Mr. Snake', weirdo."
"Sure then, Stevie-I mean, Snake!" said Splaarghön, reaching out for a handshake.
The reptile grimaced, not bothering to shake her hand. "Sure."
Splaarghön was already growing too excited by her meeting with Snake. Maybe this was too much and she didn't want to make the older snake uncomfortable. She was about to turn away when a question popped up in Snake's head.
Seeing her smile of smugness and friendliness when she saved him…was she some kind of long-time follower? Did she leave him, Wolf and Stanley to face the cops on purpose?
"Wait!" called Snake. "I'm…not like I'm curious or anything…"
Splaarghön turned back to him, looking confused.
Snake briefly looked away, sheepish. "Why go out of the trouble to save me and Wolf? We can handle ourselves!"
The pink-haired cyborg blinked a few times, already clueless. She spent so much energy over her excitement that her mind nearly stopped. "What do you mean? Didn't I kinda aimed at you? And I did leave you with the police since I thought I shouldn't be close to the coming violence of..."
"Well, you probably would have known it wouldn't take long for us to break out," guessed Snake. He already read her like a book, but he was alright that she foolishly ran off. "You're one of those rebellious delinquents?"
Splaarghön's lips curled in an awkward grin. "I'm…not really a criminal. But you're right on the rebel part." She decided to loosen her guard, telling the truth of what she thought. Unfolding the timidness, she spoke more freely and sincerely. "I saved you and Wolf because…the world should respect someone like the Bad Guys. I respect you. It invalidates my reason in knowing what's best for the world."
Snake snorted, finding that last sentence too silly to believe.
"Why so, kiddo?" he grumbled. "Why think so?"
"You think I would just stand there and let the finest specimen die?" snarked Splaarghön, building up the confidence to sound a little sassy.
"You mean the embodiment of a no-good, scary monster?"
Snake didn't mean it like that. He usually kept it short. But after the fire storm previously, he didn't fully return to the ground yet. He was still a mess.
Fortunately, the pink-haired cyborg was more nicer. "I don't see you as a monster, Snake."
The reptile shook his head with a frown. "You're just saying that. It's fine. I kind of like it."
Snake tried his damnest to carry on his bitter facade. He had already grown used to being grumpy, but it felt like it could fall off again today. After Spalding stepped into his life again. The thought that he might face another person who would delight in stomping him made him want to just leave this place forever. And his body was prepared, tense in dragging him away from this potential creep.
He didn't acknowledge Splaarghön realizing how uncomfortable her words might be. It reminded her of Oscar trying to hold up his normal attitude in the face of worry. She didn't want to leave people not like her confronted by their worst fears. And this was someone who might as well have wanted to be left alone after the unsaid prejudice.
A familiar feeling crept up to her, threatening tears to form. One that made her feel like she wanted to hide away as well. But she didn't want to feel like this. She didn't want Snake to feel like this.
"I'm guessing that it wasn't easy coming here, am I right?" she asked in a more quiet and gentle voice.
Snake rolled his eyes. "What do you know?"
"Am I wrong?"
The reptile hesitated, unsure whether this stranger was right. "…not really. Your point is?"
"The point is that I understand that coming to a new place could be scary," stated Splaarghön, leaning against the wall. "And sometimes, it's like it's against you. But you don't have to be worried. I mean, you have the Bad Guys. And you guys are still the greatest criminals who made a huge change in the world! It will take a while, but I'm sure the world will treat you right soon. I say you're lucky you picked this city for a holiday."
Snake winced. She seemed pretty naive but not totally dumb. "This 'huge change' depends on how you define it. I don't know if you're lying or just clueless, kid."
"Everyone sees the same thing," continued Splaarghön flatly. "And they always see these 'good' people as pure. Like they don't give a damn about those they considered 'low'..."
She stopped when she noticed the fear in Snake's eyes…staring at her glowing clenched fists. She took a deep breath before she could continue.
"I see from the stories that a group of powerful animals used their cards to rise to the top. To use them to change the world's minds about the underrated animals in the world. You literally blew the top off from the real devil in disguise!"
Snake waved his tail dismissively. "That was nothing. But that time…I was just doing it for my friends. It won't change anyone's mind and I'm not changing either."
"Then how can you excuse the discourses regarding your selfless actions? Your knowledge of the danger of the Love Crater Meteorite? Why you didn't blow it up in another place? And why is it here that animals and humans can tolerate each other more?"
Snake gave a thought. That reminded him of the kids he met at the zoo. "The world keeps changing, I suppose. But those discourses, they're biased, aren't they? My friends are friends with one of the writers! It might be just personal bias!"
"Oh, and look at the respect you were given, Mr. Snake!" emphasized Splaarghön, excitedly tightening her fists. Much like how she talked to Oscar when filling the empty space in with hope. "You don't think no one can ever forget about it? And would you say you're gonna let down those who went through the same thing you experienced? You are the original and your movement is inspirational. If I somehow manage to give hope to people looking like this, you can do the same."
Snake found this rather startling. Him? Bringing hope? Impossible! Right?
However, some of these things might be what he didn't know.
"I thought it only…inspired my friends?" he muttered. "And you?"
"Won't lie that it took me years to get where I am now," said Splaarghön fiercely, swinging her arms dramatically. "Trust me. But it's not about me. You're THE Mr. Snake! And the world didn't define you; you did. You just used what they pretended to think. Now, tell me how I didn't know your title as Houdini, but with no hands."
Snake was flustered, a little touched and confused. "It's…Wolf's gossip. But, thank you?"
"Don't thank me yet! At least give yourself a break. You deserve the thanks. You don't hold back whenever scheming a plan that marks a new X spot. And that's what I respect about you and why I saved you. You deserve that thanks. Trust me on this one. Trust your feelings, Mr. Snake!"
Snake raised a curious eyebrow. "What feelings? I don't have 'feelings'. What are you suggesting?"
Splaarghön's smile froze. Her mind switched to what Shaård would think of her for saying that.
"Oh, don't make this weird," she said, trying to overcome the strained tone in her voice. "Trust your 'instincts', then! Put it this way: you used your instincts to survive. And you're still alive to push this power through to see."
The embarrassment was still there since Snake's own vulnerability led to this immediate talk. But despite only knowing this stranger for like five minutes and an additional thirty seconds, it was helpful. He couldn't forget that she DID save his life from the unkempt Baron. She was a little creepy but seemed to know much more than she let on. It was a boost in telling him that he mattered.
He looked away to hide his blush. It felt really good. Sure, his friends usually comforted him and his 'fans' could be pesky, but this fan wasn't too insensitive. She was like the kids he met at the zoo. And for some reason, he was starting to get along more with these Aussie kids despite being more fortunate.
It was because they actively tried understanding him.
Adeline did.
He felt like tearing up again, but this time, he absorbed all of this in. He smiled a little the same way his family made him smile. This city really changed significantly.
However, he thought back to what Spalding said in front of him.
"You know that you savages were all created to start a REAL problem. I just cannot wait for the day when you'll fix them in the way WE should."
And that threat made him hesitant to accept this, afraid it might be a lie.
Snake frowned, but it wasn't a mean one. "Perceptive. Points for that, kiddo. Your attitude I still have to endure."
Splaarghön chuckled softly. "I get that a lot."
The reptile nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm…I'm still surprised you people treat us like sugar and spice."
"I like the spice more," said Splaarghön sincerely. "Makes you strong. Makes you more respected rightfully."
"Just don't lose your eye on the opposition, kid," grumbled Snake with a hint of sarcasm. "Tell that to the people of Dreary Dream University."
What he didn't expect was a shatter in Splaarghön's confident aura. Her face was equivalent to a guitar losing its tune when a string broke.
Her breathing became shallow. "Wait, did you say…Dreary Dream University?"
Snake's eyes widened at the possible mistake.
"I-It's not what it looks like!" he said, slowly slithering away. "I only had a rough day there. Yeah, ha ha. It's nothing. Just had a headache there…"
But Splaarghön didn't look like she was about to attack. When she leaned in, she was trembling in unadulterated terror. Seeing the look on her face closely prompted Snake to try gently wrap his tail around her back with a forced grin.
"It doesn't matter, kid," he said, pretending to be over it. "They…never did anything bad. Lay them off. I was being silly."
But feeling this broken smile only downcasted Splaarghön. The thought of what Snake must have experienced at the university shook her. And now…was she responsible for why Snake appeared to be in a worse mood than being sour? In fact, thinking about it more made her wonder if she could have contributed to this unsaid prejudice if it happened earlier.
In her mind, it was her first mistake that invalidated everything she stood for.
The pink-haired cyborg was already hyperventilating, unable to keep up her steady expression. This wasn't what she wanted for the Bad Guys. She didn't want Snake to be like this. She was late to realization and did it at the worst time by showing up like a fool.
"I'm…I'm so sorry, Mr. Snake," she said, her voice cracking.
Snake was growing confused, noting Splaarghön's growing terror. But it wasn't because of him being a snake. It looked more like she was afraid of what SHE did. He was about to say that she didn't do anything when Splaarghön's phone began buzzing in her pants.
Splaarghön hissed. It must be Shaård. She was familiar with this specific ringtone. He would need her now. As she tried to think of teleporting elsewhere, she faced back at Snake with an apologetic look.
"If I can find a way to settle my people," she promised sorrowfully. "Then you won't be hurt anymore."
"What?" uttered Snake.
Splaarghön's body began glitching, but it wasn't from the effects of preparing to teleport away. "I'm sorry."
Snake tried to grab her hand, but she disappeared in a pink glitch. His tail was left against touching the wall. The reptile tried looking around to find any trace of the mysterious stranger. He wasn't sure he was hallucinating like Wolf.
But Splaarghön already disappeared, knowing the failure she had made.
Remember when I mentioned that word tends to spread around? Guess that it escalated to this point. But neither us or her really know each other. Splaarghön was seen to have the best interest in others. However, it's a slippery wall you can't exactly scale to see what's on the other side.
AN: Yep. This is where you'll notice some of the changes in Splaarghön. Wneed the antagonist to communicate with the protagonist. Changing Splaarghön to a human made significant changes, but I utilized them for the best with a touch of self-awareness. And there's a lot of foreshadowing in this chapter. Let me know in the reviews what you suspect.
Splaarghön's talks with Oscar and Snake to motivate them to take some inspiration from Arcane and Murder Drones. While the speeches are significantly different since they were inspired by two characters with a huge generation gap, they kind of fit Splaarghön's personality. You know, the kind of girl who tries to understand the other side through word choice.
Her conversation with Oscar is a little more dysfunctional since he refuses to tell her about his hallucinations for real. And thus, she misinterpreted a few things. It adds drama as well since this leads Oscar to wonder how he should act to stay strong. Him blowing the prisoner to smithereens reinforces this.
At least her talk with Snake was more positive. I noticed before that it was a bit creepy of her to meet him. But I worked around it to make the scene endearing and to have both characters stay consistent in personality.
And Snake slamming the door in Splaarghön's face is inspired by the 2011 film Winnie the Pooh. I think this is a foreshadowing of knowing who will win the final fight. It's both tragic, cathartic and hilarious. And no, it doesn't mean Splaarghön is incompetent.
This chapter is probably one of my favorites to write. Even though it's my version, I find it interesting writing about the complexities of Splaarghön. Appearing sweet and reassuring to allies, giving a touching and sympathetic aspect. But then, you have her more brutal and corruptive nature, especially when you know this villain is starting to feel comfortable torturing minds.
What do you think of this chapter and how do you like the characterization of Splaarghön here? Let me know in the reviews. Thank you for reading this chapter! If you enjoy this story so far, be sure to favorite or follow. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but if any flames, then it's down the drain.
Until next time, keep on rocking!