Work Text:
"AHAHAHAHA! YOU TWO HAVE NOWHERE TO RUN FROM US BUOYANT!"
"Well then bring it on, buster!"
Sandford and Deimos had found themselves cornered by cultists and Dr Crackpot himself. Even with his mask, you knew he was hiding a crazed smile under it.
"What, ME? Fight you two? Oh, no, no, HEAVEN'S no." Crackpot said, a concerning shimmer of glee in his voice.
"I want you lay eyes on who Nevada truly belongs to!"
Deimos jolted to the side to avoid a swung out hook from the pits below. A low, feral growl could be heard along with the cracking and crumbling of the earth.
Something was coming for them.
Instinctively, Deimos reached to pull out the gun he had on hand, with Sanford preparing his own hook for the arriving fight.
"Feast your eyes upon the glorious fruits of our labor! Spawn of Phobos, raised by the buoyant after being left so unfortunately orphaned by their father's death..."
It really didn't SEEM human. Long, knotted hair, once blonde but now covered with streaks of black, fangs grown out to monstrous size to tear open a person with no effort, their posture showing them having grown used to scrambling around on all fours instead of on two legs. Streaks of black covering the side of their face, long horns bent back, it seemed less like a person and more like an animal now, clothes torn and worn and covered in various dirt and grime, scars riddled over their body.
"FACE THE PUNISHMENT OF THE HERETIC FOR YOUR SINS! GO, MY GLORIOUS MESSIAH, DESTROY THESE NON-BELIEVERS!" Crackpot's crazed laughter echoed through the chasm, his creation responding with a low, gruff voice.
"Yes, doctor. Non-believers of the buoyant will be smitten by my hand!"