[Final Day] Endgame

[arsgoetia]

And just as suddenly as everything had began, the demons are gone—all of them. Not a single crow feather remains. As if being sucked backwards out of a vacuum, sound and light flood into the room and the hallway, crashing down on you. You are back in the real world, with noise and physics and sunlight streaming in through the window.

You are also left with two bereft Bellcourt children, the older of which is suddenly doubling over in his wheelchair and shouting in anguish.

Comments

[troublebrewing]

[breathes a sigh of relief]

Good... I'm glad. I'd never done that before.

[arsgoetia]

She lets out a tiny, breathless giggle. "What if you'd killed me...?"

[troublebrewing]

I was a lot more worried about it killing you... and that's why Sera sang. I didn't have a lot of time to think.

[arsgoetia]

"...thanks," Lucia mumbles, rolling over to hide her face a little. "Is David... is David still here?"

[troublebrewing]

Yes. He's... very distraught, but he's here.

[arsgoetia]

"Oh..." Lucia says, kind of nervous. "Oh, good."

[troublebrewing]

We couldn't save everyone... but we could do that much.

[arsgoetia]

"Not everyone...?"

[troublebrewing]

Your father's still gone. We couldn't prevent that.

[arsgoetia]

"Dad?!"

[troublebrewing]

I'm sorry. They said-- that he'd be back in two months. He... traded himself as collateral, instead of David.

[arsgoetia]

She has a long silence, and talks to David a bit, and then goes, "Well, we'll... we'll get him back."

[troublebrewing]

[nods]

He seemed... kind of prepared for it. I don't know.

[arsgoetia]

"There's no way," she says, sourly. "Dad never got himself involved with this... with the stuff I do. At all."

[troublebrewing]

I didn't mean like that. He said he wasn't going to let his children go to Hell.

[arsgoetia]

Her shoulders hunch a bit. "I don't... I don't think he would know what he's getting himself into for -- because of me."

[troublebrewing]

Maybe not, but... there was something in his eyes.

[arsgoetia]

Lucia says, haltingly, "we don't... get along well, but... he's my dad, you know...?"

[troublebrewing]

... I don't, really, because I don't have a father, but... I think I can get it, almost.