[ First Person POV ]
Why the hell did I do all this? Good question. The answer is, absolutely no fricken reason. Shocker, right? Yeah, I know. I could've used other methods to pin down that cartoon cat and I actually do have a lot of methods for this situation, but I wanted an excuse for my self so I can get Tiffany, teach her a few things about this life that me and mark live, then use Chucky, then kill him when he's no longer useful. There's no way in hell I'm letting that thing live. I'll keep his soul with me. He might find a way to come back, or someone might resurrect him — I don't know, and I genuinely don't care. I could erase the soul, but I won't. I'll keep it. Might bite me in the ass one day, but hey — what's life without a little chaos? Hehe.
About the demonic cartoon cat: put it in terms even a baby could understand. First, transport the three Chuckys to different locations. If two of them don't find the cat, I would just blow them up. Even if one of them finds Cartoon Cat, I'll still blow him up and at the same time destroy parts of that cartoon body. It won't mean much, but it'll buy me time to do what I need. Convoluted and pointless? The first part, yes. Pointless? Absolutely not.
I'm doing this to gain power so I don't die like some extra in a supernatural sitcom — snap of the fingers and I'm gone. I want three things, that cartoon cat has in his body simple as that:
Immortality type one: stop aging and never get disease.
Immortality type two: survive any form of damage, even if my body is destroyed.
Immortality type three: evolve into Cell-level regeneration from dragon ball — every part of me can rebuild if just one part of me is still out, unless someone literally erases me from existence. I'm not going to piss off cosmic beings who can end me with a thought, but I'll reach a level where I'm practically deathless. That'll be fun.
Another reason I want Cartoon Cat: when I was Nathan, I obsessed over SCPs and creepypastas. I still remember everything. Now I have the phone and the means — I won't let that thing fall into anyone else's hands. Cartoon Cat's attributes are perfect for me: limitless strength, malleable form, godlike stealth and speed, smear-frames — and trickery. I'm not fighting that thing head-on. I'll trick it and devour it. Confident, not suicidal.
Right now, the three Chuckys are alive and deployed. I gave them stupid names so I don't get confused. The one I sent to the run-down, massive abandoned house is Jeff. The second is Rufus — he's at a closed elementary school way out of the city but not too far; rumors say kids and teachers go missing if they stay overnight. The last one, Apple, yeah great name I know, anyways he's inside an abandoned mall. It's 8:41 p.m., it's dark, in all location and I've silently charmed them so Cartoon Cat can easily detect and attack them. I want to see how it moves, how it reacts. There's a difference between knowing and seeing. I won't be blind when I face it. I'll use tricks so I can hit it in one of its blind spots, and then devour it and take those attributes and for myself.
And as for me, I knocked Chucky out after I teleported the three copies to their locations. He wouldn't shut up: babbling about himself about when he becomes human, whining about not killing. That rubbed me the wrong way, so I knocked him out. Painfully annoying. Yeah, I know I should just kill him, and be done with it. But I can't. Not until I'm done with all this.
I cross my legs, lace my fingers, and sink into the spell that lets me watch them. It isn't magic that rips a hole in space actually it can but I'm calling this up inside my Mindscape. I haven't been properly inside my head in a while, Now I'm in a big white void and three portals bloom at the air like flaming hoops, blue fire licking their rims. Each portal shows a different feed.
One image: a little doll walking through woods toward a massive, ruined house. Another: a doll speed-walking down a dark school hallway, light bleeding in through high windows. The third: a doll striding into an abandoned mall — broken glass, graffiti on the walls, a couple of cars missing their wheels in the parking lot. Classic creepy-mall vibes.
Jeff, Rufus, and Apple — yes, they bitched about their names — so I shut them up by ripping a finger off each of them. Naturally, they were furious and terrified, not because I cut them, but because of how I did it. I used a cleave like Sukuna's, only I can compress or lengthen it at will, slice down to the size of a peanut or stretch it to split a mountain. I learned how to control a cleave to a surgical degree. One finger and the message was loud and clear: don't test me.
Now back to the feeds. Thirteen minutes pass. Nothing. Then shadows ripple and warp into a grin and eyes, black, endless pupils that suck light into themselves. The shadow stretches, coils, and then snaps into being: a huge, furry thing that's also somehow disturbingly wrong in cartoon ways. It's a cat — but it isn't a cat. It smears the air around it like ink, a living negation of light. And it's right behind the dolls.
I wasn't shocked. I was however interested. Imagine what I could do with something like that. On the three displays, the dolls they saw there shadows grow darker and longer, slowly they turn their heads. Their eyes go wide as the creature leans over them, grinning the way cartoon monsters grin, all teeth and malice, staring down at each of them in separate places. My thought is precise and cold: I guess it can exist in multiple places at once. That makes this harder. But if im fast enough i can get the job done. I practiced my rewrite speed for this exact moment to use heavens door.
If I'm quick, I can rewrite its soul and devour it. I just need a few seconds. I cross my arms, watch the three blue-flamed portals.
It spoke — low, cheerful, and dripping with malice. "Run," it said, like it was offering dessert. It hated resolve; it loved the hunt. As soon as they panicked, it would chase. That cat-and-mouse thing? It lived for the terror — the way hope crumpled in little faces, the small, delicious moments where prey realized they were finished.
The dolls started to run. For a heartbeat they moved, and then — the explosions. Not explosions of fire so much as engineered ruptures: each doll blew apart in a sudden, brutal bloom. Their expressions barely changed; the only thing that moved was their eyes, widening a fraction. The blasts tore into the mall, the school, and the abandoned house, shrapnel punching through a body that shouldn't bleed like flesh. I'd packed each doll with metal shards and fragments — bits big enough to act like bullets. The cat's torso and limbs took hits; holes gaped where its rubbery flesh should have been. It didn't scream. It simply kept grinning, its grin smeared with dark, sticky blood, and the building around it tore open like paper.
That was my chance. I ripped out of the Mindscape and folded into reality — landed in the mall where space opened up. The roof was gone, the air thick with smoke, and the thing was already knitting itself back together, stitching its void-black flesh with the slow, obscene patience of something that can't die in normal ways. I started running toward it, but a flicker of future-vision snapped: something was reaching for me from behind — a long, black hand narrowing into a needle. Ascension saved me. I froze time mid-motion, smoke and debris suspended like a photograph, and watched the hand hang inches from my spine.
Time didn't hold it perfectly. The cat's regeneration crawled even through stasis — slowed, not stopped — its pupils tracking me with an oily curiosity. I barked the order. "ASCENSION NOW!" My Stand flew through the frozen haze, my stands staff moved and with one motion, and tapped the creature on the head. The skin there split like a book, a page soaked in old blood, and a page spilled free that wasn't words so much as a record of its life. Ascension conjured a pen and handed it to me I grabbed it. I skimmed the thing's story as fast as my eyes could move: a congenital corruption, a living cartoon parasite born with demonic hunger, an entity that uses rubber-hose animation to warp reality and feed on despair.
I erased lines where I needed space, I wrote in new commands with the pen that my stand gave me, and slid the page back over its wound. Backing up to gain distance, I let time fall back into its groove and watched the smoke disperse, muscles taut and ready. If anything happens.
When the smoke cleared, the cartoon cat was whole again, but it didn't move. Its pupils tracked me like two black holes. I took a gamble and walked toward it, slow and careful, testing the range. "Hello — can you hear me?" I said, flat.
"Yes. Hello, sir. Pleasure to meet you," it replied in a cheerful, syrupy voice that made my skin crawl. For a second I almost felt something like pity — then I remembered everything I'd read in its page, everything the thing had done. My face went back to neutral.
I tested it. "Jump," I said.
It jumped once, like a marionette obeying a string. A small smirk crawled across my mouth.
"Now," I told it, "whatever my Stand and I do to you, do not resist. Understood?"
"Absolutely — I will do as you say, buddy," it chirped, all innocence and teeth.
My Stand moved. Ascension dove through the stagnant air and wrapped the creature in a dark sphere that compressed around it, squeezing like a vise. I frowned when Ascension spoke without looking away from its task.
"What I'm doing," it said, voice even, "is compressing and digesting this creature's abilities and knowledge into a small sphere so your body can accept them. The process will be excruciating. I can remove its memories if you want."
I kept my arms crossed, expression casual. "Do it. Remove all its memories. I don't want to see the people it ate — just its powers."
Ascension nodded. The sphere pulsed, shifting from pure black to a braided black-and-white sheen. It was the size of an orange. "This will pass through your body and into your soul. It will merge with you and change you. You will become far stronger than you can imagine. Good ambush — if you'd let it use full power it would have killed you."
I let the praise sit like ice. "So what now?"
"We go home. We put this into you. It will hurt. Get ready to hold on to something." Ascension's tone skated a hairline toward humor. "Good thing your room is soundproof — otherwise Mark might hear your screams."
I ignored the joke. Back at my place, my room, Ascension hovered over the bed, the orange-sized orb between its hands. I lay down, closed my eyes, and took a breath. "Do it," I said, firm.
Ascension set the sphere on my chest then ascension returned to my body because he is my soul. Anyways the orb, It pressed, then slipped into my skin like a coin dropped into a wound. At first the pain was tiny — a series of pinches crawling under the ribs — then it detonated. The world narrowed to a white-hot lance and a roar behind my teeth. I clenched my fists until my knuckles went white and gritted my jaw. The true hell had begun.
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Sorry it took me a while to get this chapter out, but I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please consider leaving a comment and dropping some power stones — your support means a lot and helps me keep improving the story. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a great day!😅😅😅