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Quackity stood on the cool desert sand staring up at the sign he had commissioned Foolish to build.
On this night it was finally finished, and the buzzing sounds of its lights rang in Quackitys ears, making his eyes sparkle.
And he couldn’t suppress the large smile on his face, seeing the final product.
“It’s all coming together…” Taking a step back he looked at the sign in front of the landscape.
“LAS NEVADAS” it read.
“…it’s so perfect. Haha,” Quackity spoke softly under his breath imagining it the town behind it when it’s finished.
“Just behind the sign- there’s going to be a gas station for weary travelers! And then- in the middle I want a huge fountain! With big lights,” He dragged his hands across the night air, the pace of his voice quickened as he went on.
He ran past the sign through the empty area, blueprinting the scene in his head. He laughed happily as he imagined it all, like a utopia in his mind. It was going to be wonderful, and he took the first step TONIGHT.
This wonderful sign.
“Las Nevadas.. haha- Ahah! Haha! Yes! Yes!” He cheered loudly, running to the base of the sign and using his pickaxe to climb the pole. He climbed it to the top with a grunt, and there was silence.
His laughter stilled as he looked down, the view from the sign would be amazing… he could see it now, he really could. It wasn’t there yet but be could see it. His mind completed it.
The wind blew through Quackitys hair and filled his lungs, from up here it was so fresh and not impure from the sand. It felt so nice, he could sit on top of this sign forever.
A moment of ecstasy ran through Quackitys body, a smile on his face and adrenaline blood pumping fast to his heart.
And then that moment passed.
Suddenly the thumps of his heart hurt his entire chest, and his face fell. The blissful feeling in his heart was tainted as he looked below him.
There was nothing.
More specifically, no one.
Quackity hadn’t let this lonely feeling dawn on him in a while, but when the thought entered his mind it was stuck.
He was so… alone.
When he finished Las Nevadas, who would be there with him? Who would he rule over? Rule WITH?
…rule with?…
He didn’t need.. he didn’t need to rule with anyone, he didn’t NEED anyone! He wasn’t some sentimental loser who needed friends and loved ones! Who did? You don’t NEED love. That’s…
Quackity is crying. Because he can hear Schlatts voice in his head all over again, as loud as day. Despite the fact he was long dead, and should’ve been far gone in Quackitys memory…
He could still hear him.
“Love? I don’t love you. Love is a stupid thing. A stupid, feeble thing that people don’t need to survive. Love isn’t for people like us, POWERFUL people. Love is for weaklings who can’t deal with reality on their own, and they need some sort of crutch… come on. You’re better than that sweetheart. We don’t need love to be powerful, that’s WHY we are in power. Got that, pumpkin?”
“Get.. out of my head,” Quackitys voice broke when he spoke, and tears fell from his cheek down to his chin, and off his face.
The aching feeling of loneliness in Quackitys chest was left as two piercing holes in his heart. Those ram horns of his pierced both sides, and his filthy blood leaked out.
He hated the fact that despite all Schlatt did was hurt him, he hurt him SO BAD, but it didn’t change the fact that…
He missed him.
He really did miss Schlatt, so much.
The reality of that was obvious, when he sat on the sign alone, he felt so empty.
The air felt cold all of a sudden, like it had a tight grip on his poor little heart. He felt like Schlatt still had him in the palm of his hand, that he sat waiting for his corpse to start walking again.
“Dammit.. dammit, dammit,” Quackity let out a pathetic whimper, and hearing himself cry made him feel so small. He really felt as pathetic as Schlatt always made him out to be on nights like this.
He shouldn’t have cried over him still, it had been so long since he died, he wasn’t there to belittle him anymore, so why was he still crying like this?
He wasn’t even thankful Schlatt wasn’t here to see him cry.
Instead, he longed to hear his condescending voice comforting him. He wished he could smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the smoke from his cigar on his face. He missed every disgusting detail about his fiancé, every little bit, so much.
“Jesus, pumpkin. Come on… you know you look so pretty when you cry, but it’s pathetic really. You’re killing me.”
Quackity gritted his teeth so hard it hurt at the image of Schlatt in his head. His face felt like it was burning with an emotion he didn’t know the name of. Angry, longing, jealous, sad, miserable.
Pathetic.
He was really pathetic.
“I miss you…” The anger didn’t carry over into his tone, his voice broke when he spoke.
“You’re pathetic, pumpkin.”