In his hurry to escape the dreadful scene before him, the Obscurial began to panic, backing up at full speed and striking the wall next to the door. Approaching hyperventilation, Credence clutched his chest and fought to steady himself, his gaze traveling the room once more. This time he spied yet another patient with their eyes carved out of their skull. The only difference being that the victim was able to recover their eyeballs following the attack. Said orbs were now floating in a jar in their lap.
"Oh, we gotta go," Credence wheezed, his lungs desperately craving oxygen. Reaching for his daughter without taking his eyes off the patients, he managed to seize her hand as he backed further out of the room, making a run for it down the nearest hallway.
"Hey, wait up!" Chavo called after them. The little boy sprinted down the hall, his plush frog clinging to his back as he ran.
Credence was still shaking when he made it past the sliding glass doors and out onto the sidewalk. The world around him dipped and spun on its side, his steps faltering. It was the feeling of walking down the stairs in the dark, only to miss a step and tumble downwards. Before he knew what was happening, his vision began to blur as he slumped against the retaining wall in the park, shuddering and gasping for breath.
It was a lot to take in, witnessing the many victims at the hospital. Now thoroughly exhausted, the Obscurial slid down the worn surface of the retaining wall, struggling to regain his composure. He didn't even feel it when his daughter tugged on his cloak, asking if he was alright.
Why couldn't he wake up? Was all of this world and its ghastly abominations truly a figment of his imagination?
Glancing back at the hospital with an expression of incredulous horror, Credence found himself doubting his daughter's words. The pain alone was enough that he should have woken up were this a fabrication of his mind.
"I am not dying, I am not going to die," he muttered under his breath, his mouth suddenly dry.
"Daddy!" Chilindrina pulled harder this time, accidentally tearing the fabric of his cloak. Not that it wasn't particularly shredded thanks to the crows, but the sound of ripping material seemed to bring him to his senses, looking down at his daughter and her friend.
The Obscurial surveyed their immediate surroundings, checking that they were safe before looking out across the street. The bus stop wasn't far from the hospital, its sign chipped and fading with streaks of dried blood across the surface. Wordlessly, he began walking towards the bus stop, taking a few steps and looking both ways before breaking into a run. He wasn't going to chance being out in the open for too long. Not in this world.
Fortunately, they didn't have long to wait for the bus to arrive. Chilindrina took a step forward and held up her mother's bus pass, her father sticking close by with his wand at the ready. Meanwhile, Chavo had discovered some forgotten almonds underneath one of the seats and was eagerly scooping them into his mouth.
"Whoops, looks like I dropped my nuts," said the bus driver.
Scowling deeply, Chilindrina grabbed her friend by the suspenders and hauled him into their seat. The frog plushie gave a salute to the driver, her breasts preceding her through the doorway as she hopped onto the bus and joined the others beside the window.
.oOo.
Approaching the cemetery gates, the first thing that drew their attention as the bus slowed to a stop was the twisted brambles that grew along the wall towards the entrance. There were prickly flowers and brutal thorns, some more than an inch long, the flowers pale and wilting from lack of sunlight. A few of the wrought iron bars on the gates had broken, the shards lying in pieces against the cold, hard earth. It wasn't until they exited the bus and were able to take a closer look that they noticed the shattered headstones scattered across the ground.
"This is where we lost Quico," said Chavo, his frog climbing atop his shoulder as he stood before the gates. "He was curious about the headstones, stopping to read each one and look at all the statues. I think he was looking for something. But then we heard a scream, and when we turned around, Quico was gone. We had to search for a really, really, really long time before we found his bear."
Hesitantly, Credence approached the entrance, reaching up and taking hold of the bars. He had barely made contact when the gates swung open by themselves, as if beckoning him to enter.
In the stillness of the cemetery, the iron bars squealing on their rusty hinges sounded like a screeching banshee. The Obscurial was well aware of his frantic pulse, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the countless tombstones that lie before him. The cemetery trees were barren, some with broken limbs trailing on the ground. An ancient crypt stood in the distance, looming against the circle of the rising moon. Further out, he could see what appeared to be an old shed, as well as an angelic statue standing tall against the starry skies. The angel was the only thing that felt familiar, almost comforting somehow. And so he moved towards it, keeping an eye out for potential threats.
"What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" asked Credence, his voice barely above a whisper. It required a great deal of strength just to force his body to move, fearing what may suddenly burst from the ground or leap from behind one of the many tombstones. It didn't help that the crows had started gathering on the fence posts and trees that bordered the cemetery.
His breath steaming in the frigid air, Credence felt his eyes drawn towards those of the angel, her wings spread wide in the moonlight. He barely heard his daughter when she spoke.
"Anything that might tell us why we can't wake up. Oh, and we should probably look for Quico too. We'll probably be able to smell his dirty diapers if he's somewhere close by. The headstones might give us some clues because that's all he seemed to care about. Maybe there's a message on one of them, or an important name and date."
Moving slowly, as though he were in a trance, Credence finally reached the angel statue. "That isn't much to go by," he said, glancing briefly over his shoulder before reaching up and touching the statue's face. Curiously, the stone felt warm beneath his touch, his fingertips leaving streaks of blood on the pale surface.
Unable to shift his attention away from the angel, Credence soon began to notice traces of movement. The chilling winds blew harder, catching and tugging the dark strands of angelic hair, though the movement was subtle.
Credence shivered and pulled his cloak tighter about his chest, still staring at the statue. There was a protective warmth emanating from her angelic form, and for the first time since entering a coma, the Obscurial finally felt safe.
"Uncle Blueberry, are you okay? You have that same look Quico had before he disappeared." Chavo tried reaching up and putting his hand on Credence's arm. "Uncle Blueberry? What are you looking at?"
The angel statue blinked and her lips began to move.
"What are you doing here, my child? Have you come here in search of the source of our problems?"
"Grandma?!" Credence gasped, taking a step back and nearly stumbling over the children in the process. He kept his gaze fixated on the statue, and she began to speak once more.
"That's a fool's errand," she said, the voice of Jeanne Marie Barebone gliding past her marble lips. "Death left this place a long time ago. We're not able to escape this dream without Death. You see... we have to die here in order to get back to the real world. Sadly, Death has not visited anyone for a long time. Not even those who were hunted down by the vicious monsters."
"What?" Credence breathed, his voice resembling that of a frightened child. Taking a step back, he could feel droplets of moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes. "No, no, we can't... I can't..."
"Funny," the angelic figure continued, heedless of her grandson's fear. "That immortality would cause people to suffer. You might want to ask yourself if this is really what you want for them."
Credence was still, his sight swimming beneath a watery haze. In the distance, the crows could be heard calling out beneath the broken branches, betwixt the moon and scattered headstones. His hand throbbed with a fresh surge of pain, reminding him of his fate. If he never died, he would be tied to this nightmare forever. All of them would remain trapped here, including his daughter whom he loved more than anything else in the world.
His bottom lip quivering, Credence remained rooted to the spot, listening to the angel speak.
"Perhaps you've realized that nothing but us is real here. This whole world is built of our imagination. Unfortunately, it keeps getting worse every minute. People are scared of their own shadows, so their minds invent new monsters. This dream is turning into an even worse nightmare. It's a vicious circle, burning in the hearts of those who fear death. However, you don't have to worry about me, my child. Compared to the others, I can take care of myself. I've been here a very long time, and I've learned some things."
Hearing her voice, this confirmation that they all must die or remain trapped in a perpetual nightmare, was enough to push him over the edge. The Obscurial wept before the statue, gazing up at the face of his loving grandmother as she continued addressing him in that calm, familiar tone.
"If you still want to keep searching, you should explore the crypt," she told him. "You may find some clues there, but the door is locked with a special type of key. I have no idea how to open it."
"Uncle Blueberry, please, you're starting to scare me." Chavo was close to tears, trying and failing to get Credence's attention. Not even Chilindrina could make him look at her, not until the angel had finished speaking.
Slowly he turned, looking down at the children, who were each displaying visible signs of distress. His daughter was anxiously wringing the tail on her opossum plushie, while Chavo was squeezing his frog just a little too tightly, squashing her plush breasts against his stripped shirt. All they could see was an ordinary statue in the middle of the cemetery. They didn't see her lips move, they couldn't hear her speak. Their reaction left him doubting his own sanity when Credence looked back at the statue, seeing now the plain face of an ordinary woman and not his grandmother.
Swallowing hard, the Obscurial took a moment to process everything. This was the second time he'd been warned about the contents of this world being an illusion, one that fed on the fears of its inhabitants. He understood well enough and knew what the statue was asking him to do. Perhaps it was fitting that an angel had spoken to him, but he still refused to accept that he was dying.
"Daddy?" Chilindrina sniffled, practically tying Hank's tail in a knot. This time Credence finally responded to her desperate pleas, reaching down and ruffling the hair on top of her head.
"It's alright, baby girl." The crows were drawing near, and his instincts told him it was time to leave. Though he was far from ready to accept the notion of dying, Credence fully acknowledged that pain was inevitable if he lingered in the vicinity of these birds. If nothing else, the crypt might offer shelter until the crows decided to leave.