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The world felt still as Tom came to, holding its breath and waiting for the worst. His senses filled in the blanks.
Rope. Tight across his wrists, held over his head, forcing him in this semi-standing position. He grit his teeth at the burn.
Ink. As he moved his feet to stand, he could feel it tug against his pant legs. Was it moving on its own? He shuddered, slowly opening his eyes.
Allison. Tiny shuddering breaths wracked her frame, practically shaking. Whatever bound her kept her low to the ground, and all her effort lay in just trying to keep her head above the slithering, viscous fluid.
“Al!” She snapped to attention, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Tom?” The panic seemed to only grow. He followed her gaze just over his shoulder.
“Have you ever wondered how a soul works, Tom?”
Joey stepped around to face him, gently tilting the man’s head up to look at him. He snapped at the fingers.
“Down boy! Heel!” Joey laughed, “Remember, you’re not my only guest.”
He smiled, terribly wide, and cast a glance at Allison. Tom bristled. “Don’t even fucking LOOK at my wife, you monster!”
“Here’s the thing with souls, Tommy—Can I call you Tommy?—” he started, ignoring him as he ambled over towards the woman, hands behind his back. “They’re very sturdy little things… at least, while they’ve got something to house them. A body is traditional. However, if something were to… happen, to the soul’s storage container, why—that’s another thing entirely!”
He hovered above her, then abruptly stomped down, forcing her head under.
“NO!” Tom lunged for him, ignoring the feeling that he popped his shoulders from their sockets. “YOU BASTARD! GET OFF HER, SHE’S GOING TO—”
“—Drown?” Joey asked, grinning as he pressed harder. The ink beneath him writhed. “Now you’re using your head, Tommy!”
Fury soon shifted to desperation as the mechanic frantically tried to free himself, dignity be damned. “Joey! Joey, fuck, please, what do you want from me?! I’ll do it! Anything, just let her up! PLEASE!”
Joey just hummed a happy little tune and waited. Watching.
Grinning.
The ink slowly settled, and a strangled noise escaped the normally very stoic man. Joey plucked her corpse from the ink. “You have such a pretty wife, Tommy.” A chuckle. “Well, had. Now, where was I?”
Cheerfully, he clambered up and shoved her body in the ink machine. It rumbled like a disturbed beast rising from its slumber.
"It's actually a very quick process to rip someone's soul from their body! It doesn't break the bond either, both can potentially live if you give it enough magic and something to stabilize it. Like ink. Once enough ink's been added, it basically turns the body to something very.... moldable. Recycling is very important!”
Tom could feel the ink react. It pulled away from him, shifting and moving upwards as a figure began to form.
“And what forms from this ink? It’s all under my control.”
“She’s too strong for you,” Tom hissed, biting back tears. “You won’t control her.”
Joey stared a moment in surprise, but then… that smile. Wider than should be possible and so absolutely infuriating. The man stepped closer. “Oh, you think I’m going to control her? No, of course not! I’m going to control you. And when I make you kill her again, Tom? I think that will be beautiful,” he whispered in his ear.
Something snapped.
Tom whipped a punch square into Joey’s nose, sending him reeling. He quickly took advantage of the brief reprieve to try and free his other hand. So desperate was he to get out of his bonds that he didn’t notice the man approach with a new weapon in hand. He plunged the knife deep into Tom’s free shoulder, hacking away as he screamed and struggled until he separated the limb from the rest of his body. Joey chuckled, looking it over before tossing it aside.
“You didn’t need that, now did you, Tom?” Tom’s screams turned hoarse by then, barely even gurgles as he bled out. The last thing he saw and heard was Joey leaning in again for one last whisper.
“…Or should I say, Boris?”