"Is that how you punish people? By shoving cigarettes into their hair?" I dug through my hair until I could locate the cigar, tossing the object to the floor and kicking it aside.
Ruth remained silent, smirking as she dug deeper into her pocket. "I wouldn't call it punishment, more like separating the weaklings and those with balls."
She took out another cigar, flaunting it to the group. "Earlier I snuck into an attendant's office and snagged this for myself."
The blonde woman lit the cigar before popping it into her mouth. She then turned towards me and huffed. "If you had dropped our dinner, we'd have eaten you instead."
At this moment, the edges of her fingers grew razor sharp, and her nails extended to the length of daggers. Her stain-ridden teeth sharpened, bordering on the capacity to cleave cleanly through an arm. Her pupils constricted into tight, paper-thin slits.
This was similar to the appearances of the monsters from that locked room!
I instantly stood up, toppling the barrel back in the process. Seeing the undergoing changes, Daisy was the first to react. She shot up from her chair and ran over to Ruth, planting a sharp slap to her left cheek.
"Calm down!"
Daisy leaned in closer, her blue eyes laden with obvious concern for the other girl. Oscar, who had remained silent, shot up from his chair and approached me. He extended his arms beside his body to make a protective shield.
"I'll shield you, your majesty!" He cried out, looking back at me with gritted teeth.
"Don't you turn into monsters during the night? It's only five in the afternoon!" I looked past Oscar, gazing at Ruth's form. When I caught sight of the woman, I was instantly taken aback.
Daisy and Ruth were entangled in a passionate kiss?! Damien was the only one who remained rooted in his chair, his face contorted with disgust and slight embarrassment as he looked away from the macabre scene. The disfigurations on Ruth's body slowly began to disappear. Her nails and fingers dulled, and the slits in her eyes gradually widened to regular, humanoid orbs.
After this, Daisy stepped back and smiled. "You're ok, you're ok."
She looked back at me, running a hand through her hair. At this moment, she seemed to remember I was a newcomer, so her face flushed cherry red, and she covered her face in embarrassment, mumbling to herself about her 'lack of ladyness.'
Oscar lowered his arms, before turning around and kneeling at my feet. The ground below us was pretty dirty, so his pale gray tunic had gathered a noticeable amount of dirt and dust. The man's eyes flickered as he smiled at me with a tooth-bearing grin. Oscar leapt forward with the energy and precision of a feasting lion, planting a sharp and precise kiss to the edge of my slippers.
"I'm so glad to be of your service, your majesty!"
Oscar quickly stood up, towering over me. His hands reached above my head, clenching into incomplete fists as if holding onto something. Oscar sniffed the air, and his tongue darted out of his mouth, licking at the space just above his right fist.
If I remembered correctly, these were the areas where those illusory horns had formed.
"Cut that out!" I snapped, pushing Oscar away.
Upon doing that, I immediately tensed upon seeing his reaction. His eyes drew so wide I thought they might pop from their sockets and fall to the floor. I watched, my gut sinking to my toes as tears began to well in the corners of his eyes.
"I-I didn't mean—"
Before I could apologize, Oscar had already broken down into hysterics, falling to his knees and pressing his head into the ground like a giraffe. The man began to bow up and down as if praising a deity.
"I apologize, your majesty, it won't happen again. Exact your divine judgement upon me!—" Ruth snagged the back of Oscar's collar, pulling him to his feet and shoving him into his chair.
"What did I tell you about personal space?" She folded her arms across her chest, her brows furrowing deeply.
"B-but the Armageddon King requires a servant to fulfill his every desire!" Oscar barked, looking directly at me with wide eyes.
"Right?"
I stepped back from the table, my hands trembling slightly. "What did you call me?"
Oscar spit into his palm, using the makeshift jel to push back his greasy hair. "You're the Armageddon King, those horns atop your head—"
He suddenly fell silent, his lips still parted and numb. His head slumped forward a little, and a trickle of drool oozed from his mouth. At this moment, a figure fazed into existence, wearing a dark robe and possessing wormhole-like eyes.
The Umbridge!
I didn't waste any time, instantly speaking. "Why the hell is he treating me like some kind of king?"
The Umbridge remained silent, looking down at Oscar. Their boney hand trailed the edge of his cheekbones before resting on his clavicle.
"He's crazy, that's just it."
The Umbridge raised their hand and tapped the center of Oscar's forehead, and a faint, crimson pulse reverberated through his body. Oscar's breath hitched in his chest as he surveyed the room. When he looked up and caught sight of The Umbridge, the man's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward onto the table.
"He's controlled now."
"D-did you kill him?" Rushing over to him, I grabbed him by the hair and raised his head. After scanning his face for a few moments, I saw the slight parting and closing of his lips. He was breathing.
"I could've. But he isn't worth it."
The Umbridge turned to me, sighing softly. They pointed out the window, pointing at the crimson moon, which had begun to rise over the evergreen trees just outside the kingdom.
"He has a Wraith inside him; the Blood Moon is soon."
"H-he ...what?" I turned back to the towering figure, scoffing. I stepped back from Oscar, who was still slumped at the table. The Umbridge's gaze remained on me the entire time.
"He was deemed lucid during Conditioning, but his Spirit Body says otherwise."
A faint, pulsing, ink-black aura seeped from his body. The aura took the shape of an illusory figure with a humanoid top half, and a dissipating, incomplete bottom half. The creature's eyes burned with crimson energy, a deep contrast to the Umbridge's calm and collected vortexes. Its mouth spread with an eerie click and squish, showcasing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
"What is that thing?" I instinctively reached for the Blood-Moon Charm.
"The Wraith possessing Oscar," The Umbridge replied.
This creature remained rooted in its spot, slowly looking around the room. The air grew bitterly cold around me when I looked into its crimson eyes, which echoed and reverberated with burning, unkempt malice and lust.
"Before he was sent here, Oscar was a proficient mystical teacher, one that even your friend Aaron knew to a small extent. But ...let's say, his potion digestion didn't go as planned. He was a Seeker of the Edict pathway, who managed to grasp the concept of accelerated digestion. But, unfortunately, he lost control advancing to Order 8, succumbing to backlash."
"Backlash is also why his friends turn into monsters. In this world, one can never go alone. Naivety is the path to destruction, for one person or everyone."
Backlash? I instantly remembered the term. Back in the tent, the figure with round glasses had taught me about backlash. He said if I didn't cause calamity and destruction, I wouldn't digest my potion properly. That's why I threw it up!
The enigmatic figure seemed to sense my awareness, turning to me. "Backlash is also why you have the Demon Maggot Disease."
At this moment, I stumbled back and fell to the floor with wide eyes. The Wraith looked in my direction, its smile widening even more as it lunged at me. It extended its bony fingers, ready to grasp me, but the otherworldly creature was frozen midair. The Umbridge had frozen it in place! With the snap of their fingers, the creature dissipated back into Oscar's body.
The Wraith let out a loud, shrill yell as it clawed at the edges of Oscar's mouth, desperate to be set free. But something within Oscar's mouth acted as a vortex destined to pull all malevolent existences into it. With a final, deafening scream, the Wraith flew back into Oscar's body. Now, the entire room seemed to be silent.
Unable to speak, I looked to the Umbridge with trembling hands. "Y-you're telling me ...I-I got this incurable disease because I didn't cause harm and stuff?"
I suppressed the flood of emotions coursing through my body, tears welling in the corners of my eyes.
"I told you I didn't want these shitty powers!"
The Umbridge remained still, their bony hand finding the edge of my cheek, giving it a slow, tender caress.
"You're at a dinner party Isaac, be formal."
At this moment, my ethereal and illusory surroundings gradually dissipated. My body abruptly shifted, finding its way back onto the barrel chair. The others in the room all turned to me, smiling.
"I suppose we can all eat now?" Daisy said with a smile.
Damien stood up and walked to the corner of the room, removing a stack of bowls from a barrel. "Thank the deities that this has bowls."
"Stealing bowls from the kitchen and having to deal with Harland and his shitcrannies would've been more of a pain then eating Oscar's cooking."
The man didn't comment, still seemingly humbled by the earlier incident. My gaze remained locked on him, noticing the fragility and coldness in his expression. Damien distributed the plates and bowls among the people sitting at the table. Ruth lifted the lid of the stew and sniffed it, her face shriveling.
"Damien, this is cold as shit!" She turned to the boy, scowling.
"Didn't you ask me to store it in my room?" The boy retorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he puffed his cheeks.
"Yeah, over the fuckin' heaters!" Ruth snapped, landing a sharp flick to the boy's forehead. Damien fell backwards to the ground, landing on his back.
"Fine, fine. I'll do it next time." He grumbled, brushing the dust and dirt off of his shirt.
"Hey, what was that for?" I stood up from my chair, rushing to Damien's side. When I attempted to help the boy to his feet, he shot me a small smile.
"You're too worried about everyone around you; you'd make a good mother." Ruth teased, resting her elbow on the table and smirking like a cat.
"I'm fine," Damien sighed, sitting back down.
"We always tease each other," Daisy placed an affirmative hand on my shoulder, squeezing it softly.
"Well, who cares if it's cold, it's better than risking Harland spitting in our food."
The group all nodded in agreement, serving themselves the stew. "Who knows, maybe Damien pissed in it. It's already so yellow we couldn't tell to begin with!" Ruth chortled, elbowing Damien's ribs.
"Now ...let us share a drink."
Ruth reached under the table, lifting a few bottles of alcohol onto the table.