Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The unending waves crashed against the side of the ship, throwing it back and forth in the wake of a terrifying typhoon. It was a small fishing vessel, built for quick voyages across peaceful waters. Nothing close to the chaos its crew was experiencing.

In spite of the gallons of water flying onto the deck, its crew of two couldn’t care less. Their faces were seeping with excitement. The ship had a metal tow cable in the back, and they were cranking it into the water, hoping for a fantastic discovery. The storm grew worse. 

The two were deep in the Indian Ocean, on the trail of a lost port said to have crumbled and disappeared over a century before. A modern Atlantis, if Atlantis were mostly unknown, and made of wood. However, even their endless excitement at the prospect of discovery could never prepare them for what they found.

The cable snagged something.

They hoisted it up, their combined strength barely outmatching the raging sea.

Their half-hour tug-of-war with the water would end with a violent throw. The two stumbled backwards, watching as a translucent rock flew over their heads and crashed onto the deck of their ship. The ship rocked. The crew panicked.

They manned their stations, determined to escape the storm before it could drag them to a cold, watery grave. Soon enough, though, the storm calmed. So too did the waves. With nothing left to fear but the chance of sinking, the two approached their treasure.

The light brown rock, its surface coated in a thin layer of salt, had cracked through the deck of the ship, leaving a gaping hole down to the unbroken hull. Despite being embedded deep in the bowels of the ship, it appeared taller than either adventurer.

“What do you think it is?” The first asked, her voice filled with excitement.

“Who knows,” The second replied, circling the rock, “But it looks like there’s something in there…”

“It might be some kind of amber! It’s better at preservation than almost anything. One this big has gotta have a complete organism trapped inside.”

She left to grab tools. He stayed, inspecting the dark, obscured organism within. Amber seemed like the correct assessment, after all, whatever was in there seemed to be perfectly preserved. However, as he continued standing near the brown fossil, a distinct odor made itself known.

The man stuck his hand against the rock, the warmth of his finger melting away a small syrupy substance which stuck to his skin. He sniffed it again. It was sweet. Hesitantly, he tasted the substance. Shock overtook his expression when the substance’s composition became clear to him.

“Step aside, buddy!” The woman said, having returned with a hammer and pick, “We’re about to uncover something big!”

The man didn’t respond. His mind was too focused on the substance on his tongue. Too focused on how it had found itself at the bottom of the ocean. Too focused to notice when a single swing from the woman’s pick sent a thick crack snaking across the rock’s surface. He felt her pull him back, watching as the rock snapped in half, and in that instant, his mind returned.

“It’s caramel,” He said.

“What?”

“This whole fossil is just one giant piece of caramel!”

“It can’t be old enough then… Did it even fossilize?”

Their questions would be answered when a slab of caramel slid off the hardened piece of candy, revealing what appeared to be the body of a pirate trapped inside, his wooden hands raised in a triumph that spread across his face and down a small dribble of rainbow spittle on his chin.

“Woah…” The woman muttered, almost out of recognition.

“Adia, who the heck is this?”

“That, Scratch, is what remains of the dread pirate K’nuckles.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“...And that, Libby, is why I’m dragging you along for ice cream on a Sunday!”

It was kinda true. Molly McGee was dragging Libby Stein-Torres across town on a Sunday for ice cream. Her reasoning, though, not so much. There was no Darryl-induced spider infestation at her house, there was no board game related relapse with her mom, there was no weird or disturbing fad sucking her dad in, and there most definitely was no ghost haunting all of them into a joyful submission. 

And it was becoming increasingly obvious that Libby was not buying it.

“Molly, is this about Scratch?”

“What? Pfft, no! Why- Why would you think that?”

Libby’s glare said it all.

“You have a… Record,” She explained, “Of reactions like this to things out of your control. Specifically relating to Scratch.”

“Ahaha, well,” Molly laughed nervously, “My best friend once told me that, uh, correlation does not equal causation!”

“But that doesn’t apply to-”

“Hey, look, we’re almost there!”

“Wait, but-”

Before she could finish, Molly closed the distance in seconds with an energetic sprint, still dragging Libby behind her by the sleeve of her sweater. She skidded to a stop outside Sweets & Treats, sending her friend crashing into the front door. 

“See!” Molly said, “We’re here, you and me, doing best friend stuff together, and…”

She pushed on the door. It wouldn’t budge.

“Why won’t this open?”

Libby detached herself from the glass.

“Because they’re closed on Sundays,” She said, “I thought you already knew that?”

Molly’s expression fell. Her perfect plan for keeping her mind far away from Scratch was falling apart yet again. She had to come up with something, anything to keep it together. Today was going to be happy, no matter what stood in her way! 

She stepped back, taking in the exterior of the shop. Its vents, pipes, and… Windows. A single open window right above a semi-stable dumpster, one she remembered Scratch digging through. After shaking the painful memory out of her head, Molly’s face contorted into a scheming grin.

“Face it Molly,” Libby said, “This isn’t actually helping. Maybe instead of avoiding your problems, you could-”

“Climb in through the window? Great idea, Libs!”

Before she could try responding, Molly had already grabbed onto her sleeve. She dragged her over to the dumpster, refusing to listen to her protests and logic. Refusing to acknowledge the slight greenish thing which glowed behind the dark store window.

Molly climbed onto the dumpster, gripped the window’s underside, and yanked it up with one swift motion.

“Wait, I never agreed to breaking and entering!” Libby exclaimed.

“Ah, what’s there to worry about? It’s not like there’s anyone-”

Molly stopped. Her eyes grew wide. That chartreuse thing behind the window, its eyes glittering as it stared at the pints of untouched ice cream behind the counter. It was a sight the girl would never mistake for anything else.

It was a ghost.

Libby took notice, and soon joined Molly in observing the newcomer. The spirit floated through the counter, scarfing down every flavor it came across with incredible voracity. And yet, for some reason it left small gold pieces in every tub it finished. The glistening pieces were too far away for either girl to discern, but it looked like more than enough to pay for the ice cream. It may have even been enough to pay for the whole shop!

Molly’s excitement grew with each passing moment, and before she knew it, she was climbing in.

“Molly, wait,” Libby whispered, grabbing Molly’s shoe.

Unfortunately, this simple action caused her to tumble to the ground, crashing into a nearby table, and grabbing the attention of the nearby ghost.

Libby, shaking from nerves, climbed in after her, standing beside her as she recovered. Molly stood up, coming face-to-face with the glimmering specter. Its eyes were enormous, and so full of wonder, if a bit tired. It wore an oversized tricorne and a scarf around its neck. Its hair was split into three distinct curls around the front of its head, and it bore a smile which was honestly a little creepy, but it melted Molly’s heart anyway.

There was a slight tension in the air, as if the two girls were confronting a murderer. That is, until the spirit spoke.

“Hi friends! Are you here for the ice cream?”

“Aw, you’re adorable!” Molly responded, “And yes, we are! Isn’t that right, Libby?”

“Uh, right,” Libby said, shooting her yet another glare, “Just ice cream.”

“Great! Now, are you gonna introduce yourself, new friend?”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t already heard of me,” The ghost said.

“And why’s that?”

“‘Cause I’m Cap'n Flapjack, and I’m the adventurer that discovered Candied Island!”

Chapter Text

As Adia continued throwing her pick at the caramel, breaking tiny pieces off and scattering them across the deck, Scratch stared at the man stuck in the middle, his countenance becoming more and more disturbing by the second.

Most of the pirate was fake, his wooden legs and hands being the most obvious examples. His nose looked to be made of plastic or rubber, a possibility exemplified by its coloration. It didn’t even come close to matching the blue skin stretched across his bald head. 

He looked as if he’d been pulled apart and put back together. Several times.

“Alright,” Adia said, panting, “One last hit should break him out. Any objections?”

“Uh, yeah, what if he tries to steal our ship?” Scratch asks.

Adia looked around the small fishing vessel, before her eyes landed on an unused harpoon. She pointed to it, a wave of excitement in her every motion.

“How about you take that, and poke off his legs if he tries anything?”

“I guess… But what if-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Adia said, lowering her tone into something more reassuring, “The chances of him being alive in there are almost zero.”

Scratch didn’t believe in magic. He didn’t believe in ghosts, ghouls, specters, zombies, or any of that other superstitious mumbo-jumbo. And yet, when he looked into the face of the pirate, a part of him deep within his soul screamed out, as if the fact that he had never seen this face before was cause for concern. Nevertheless, Adia was right. He readied the harpoon, pointing it at the pirate’s wooden legs, and waited. 

Adia hesitated. Once she was sure Scratch was ready, she swung the pick one final time.

A web of cracks spread across the caramel block’s surface. A moment passed. Then, the block crumbled to the floor, leaving the pirate captain K’nuckles lying intact on the floor. Adia and Scratch cautiously approached him, holding out their tools. They waited… And waited…

Nothing. Not even a twitch. The captain was immobile. 

Scratch let out a sigh of relief, while Adia chuckled.

“See, bud, there’s nothing here to be afraid of-”

“Agh, Flapjack, would you keep it down over there?”

They jumped. Their heads turned to face the pirate. He was still. Scratch felt his heart beat faster, his hands shaking as they gripped the clean handle of the harpoon.

“Scratch, this is a terrible time for your pranks…” Adia whispered.

“What? That wasn’t me!” He responded, his fear more than obvious, “It didn’t even get your name right!”

“It wasn’t?” Adia’s face turned pale, “Then…”

A low growl began to emanate from the pirate. Adia’s fists tightened around her pick.

“That can only mean…”

The pirate turned over, a loud creak accompanying his every motion. His arm snapped into the air, before landing back on the ground, his wooden claws spreading out beneath him. His other arm followed suit, squeaking and turning in an unnatural way. Slowly, impossibly, his legs shifted, placing themselves in the perfect position to support his obvious weight. He groaned, and pushed himself up, sticky caramel dripping down his body in globs of sweat and condensation and salt.

Now upright, the pirate turned to face the duo, the disturbing features of his face even more pronounced up close. With sugar-encrusted eyes, a drooling mouth filled with uncanny fake teeth, and that nose, dripping snot despite its plastic nature. 

Scratch’s heart almost stopped. Almost.

“Wait… Flapjack, is that you?” The pirate asked, his eyes locked on Scratch, “When did you get so old… And sad… Hold on, this isn’t Bubbie. When did you get a boat, boy?!”

“Ok, calm down,” Adia said, placing the pick on the floor, “You’ve been in that block of caramel for a long time, you’re gonna be disoriented.”

K’nuckles looked at her, walked over to Scratch, placed a sticky hand on his shoulder, and pulled a small bottle from his coat. He took a swig from the ‘maple syrup.’

“Who’s the stowaway, boy?” He asked.

Wha- This- How dare he?!

“Her name is Adia,” Scratch said, frustration lining his voice, “She’s my friend , she might as well be the captain , and she’s trying to help you.”

The pirate looked him dead in the eyes. Then he laughed.

“Oh, that’s a good one, Flap!”

Scratch didn’t laugh. He stared back with a fierce rage, a rage that made the ‘captain’ do a double take.

“Wait a minute… You’re not Flapjack!”

“I don’t even know a ‘Flapjack!’”

K’nuckles began to panic. He backed away from the two, his persistent screams and yells echoing across the deck. Despite his sudden outburst, Adia was still focused on helping him.

“Easy now,” She said, holding her hands out and stepping forward with the utmost care, “Sorry about Scratch, he’s a bit of a grump sometimes. Just calm down so we can help-”

“Calm down?!” K’nuckles yelled, this time with more anger than fear, “The last thing I remember was being on Candied Island with Flapjack, and now I’m in here with you two weirdos! I’m not taking orders from the likes o-”

The pirate was cut off by a harpoon launching forward, tearing off his legs and pinning them to the deck of the ship. He shouted, before he fainted and fell to the ground.

Adia shot a disappointed glance at Scratch.

“Admit it, he was getting on your nerves, too,” He said, “Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

She let out a sigh.

“I suppose…” She paused, inspecting the pathetic mass snoring before them on the deck, “But now we’ve got even more questions.”

“Like what?”

“Like, what’s Candied Island?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Candied Island, Libby!” Flapjack responded, giggling like a toddler, “It’s a magical place in the middle of the ocean made out of candy!”

“Riiight,” She said.

Molly had to agree. Candied Island? It sounded ridiculous! But she wasn’t one to dismiss a potential new friend, especially when trying to ignore a couple of old ones. With a massive, unnatural smile, she decided her best course of action would be to humor the ghost.

“Wow, Candied Island?” Molly gasped, grabbing him by the shoulder,  “I’ve never been, or, seen it on any maps, but I don’t care tell me everything! ”

The captain was elated, his giggling growing more manic. Libby’s look of skepticism gained a highlight of fear, but she didn’t seem to acknowledge it, instead pulling a small tape recorder out of her pocket.

“Yes, tell us everything about this mysterious Isle of Candy, ‘Captain.’”

“It’s got soda streams and candy cane trees and ice cream mountains and caramel waterfalls and little sugar rocks and-”

“You still haven’t told us why it’s not on any maps,” Libby interrupted.

“Well, of course you haven’t seen it on any maps, silly,” He responded, “Its location is secret! Or it moves, or it… Um, but you’ll definitely find it if you go away from the East!”

“You mean go Wes-”

“Shh,” Flapjack whispered, shoving a finger against Molly’s mouth, “That direction’s cursed.”

Molly had experience with curses, thanks to Scratch. The mere utterance of the word ‘West’ did not fit that description.

“Cursed?”

“Superstitions were commonplace during the golden age of piracy,” Libby explained, circling the ghost and inspecting his hat, “But we’ve seen enough paranormal happenings and, well, curses in this town to give you the benefit of the doubt. Care to demonstrate?”

Flapjack tensed. He glanced at the front window, as if expecting something to jump out. After a moment, he took a deep breath.

“W-Why don’t we head West, friend?”

There was a bang at the window, followed by something resembling the flap of a bird’s wings. Molly, Libby, and Flapjack all jumped, and quickly turned to face the intrusion. A black, shifting mass was covering the window, wriggling under a crack, trying to force itself in. It was impossible to distinguish in the dark store. Molly and Flapjack reacted at the same time, both letting out small, terrified shouts.

In an instant, he grabbed Molly by the arm, and flew her out of the building. He phased through the nearby dumpster, hiding inside. Molly crashed into it. Through the searing pain in her face, she heard the flapping pause, before it faded away into the distance.

“Uh, Molly, are you ok?”

It was Libby. She was peeking her head through the window, staring at her stunned friend. With great effort, Molly peeled her face off the lid, and turned to face her friend. Her reaction was all she needed to know that she had a black eye or something, but that was the least of her worries.

“Ugh… Did you… Catch what that was?”

“U-Unfortunately no,” Libby answered, “It sorta flew off as soon as the ‘captain’ hid.”

“Oh, good,” Molly said, her voice perking up, “Hear that, buddy, you can come back out now!”

Slowly, Flapjack floated through the dumpster, looking around and wringing his hands. After a few moments of scanning the area, he exhaled, that huge smile returning to his face.

“Wow, I thought I’d never lose that guy!” He exclaimed, “He’s been following me for weeks...”

A poor, innocent ghost being stalked by a dark, malicious entity? It was so sad, but also the perfect opportunity! Despite her pain, Molly’s huge smile returned.

“Do youuu… Need a place to hide out until he stops?” She asked.

Flapjack seemed to glow brighter. His excitement wasn’t just visible, it could be felt by everyone around him. 

“You’d really help me?”

“Of course! That’s what friends are for, aren’t they?”

Flapjack grabbed at his face, his uncontrollable giggling filling Molly’s heart with joy. At least, it did until he started floating high up into the air, too far for Molly to hear him.

“Wait-”

“Molly,” Libby said, interrupting her, “Can we talk?”

“Uh, of course, Libby, but right now I need to make sure our new friend is ok.”

“Yeah, about him, I’m beginning to think this is a classic Tugbottom scenario.”

“What? No way! How could someone like him be anything like Ezekiel Tugbottom?”

“I can’t be sure, but I know I’ve never seen any historical records of a captain Flapjack or a Candied Island before today. I’ve never even heard of that West superstition he-”

Suddenly, Sweets & Treats’ front door clicked. In a panic, Libby scrambled out the window, landing in the concrete alleyway below. A moment later, the store’s manager walked in. 

“Ok, so he might be right about that one,” Libby said, “But that doesn’t make him smell any less fishy!”

“Well of course he smells fishy, he’s a sailor.”

“Are you being like this on purpose?”

Before Libby could force an answer out of Molly, Flapjack returned in a flash, his golden smile still plastered to his face.

“Are you ready to see your new room, Flapjack?” Molly asked immediately.

“Boy am I!”

“Then let’s go, new friend!”

And with that, Molly walked back down the street, her new spectral pal floating close behind. Leaving Libby alone near the dumpster.

She stood there for a moment, before pulling a small gold piece out of her pocket.

“A mysterious friend-stealing pirate captain with no coherent history? This looks like a job for the Bloodhound of Truth.”

Pocketing the gold piece, she walked back to the one place where she knew she might find some answers.

Her mom’s bookstore.

Chapter Text

Scratch tossed another map aside, and groaned. They had searched nearly a hundred different maps spanning centuries of recorded history and miles upon miles of ocean, and not a single one had led them any closer to this mysterious Candied Island. He dropped his face onto the table, scattering his remaining maps in the process.

Turning to his left, he found K’nuckles, still asleep on the floor. Adia had brought him inside, though due to his outburst they’d both agreed to have him bound. Taking his wooden limbs off and propping them against the table proved far easier.

He turned over, unable to look at the sickly blue pirate any longer. To his right sat Adia, deep in her study of a few old log books they had borrowed for the sake of ‘discovering wooden Atlantis.’ Evidently, her attention had turned elsewhere. Next to her sat a notebook, where she scrawled any minor hint or clue as to the appearance, whereabouts, or wildlife of this uncharted land. Somehow, she had found a great deal of them.

“How are you doing that?” Scratch asked.

Adia glanced at him, then down at her notebook.

“I can’t even be sure any of these are actual clues,” She responded, scratching her head with the back of her pencil, “Cammie Island appears to be a completely different location. Pickled Island might be based on the same urban legend… And then there’s all these references to some vague danger in the West.”

“Yeah, ‘here be dragons,’ I saw, listen, have you considered the fact that the living fossil might be lying to us?”

“Maybe… But then… Where did all that caramel come from?”

“I don’t know, but you said he was a dreaded pirate, he probably angered a galleon of candy traders. He probably angered hundreds of them! Who’s to say this ‘Candied Island’ isn’t just where they restocked?”

Adia looked between the pirate and her notebook for a moment.

Slowly, her face turned up, a sight which filled Scratch with dread.

“You’re absolutely right, Scratch!” She exclaimed.

“Oh no,” He said, “Nope, we are not-”

“We have a first person account right here! We’re bound to get an answer out of him eventually!”

Before Scratch could protest, Adia had already stepped up to the comatose captain. It only took a few quick prods with her pencil for him to stir.

“Huh, who-”

K’nuckles shook his head in apparent surprise, taking a moment to process the two adventurers standing in front of him.

“Oh, it’s you guys,” K’nuckles said, shifting his torso, “Uh, any chance you could give a poor old sailor a hand?”

Scratch recoiled in disgust at the man. Adia, however, beamed even brighter.

“Well of course we could, but only if you promise to help us out!”

K’nuckles’ eyes narrowed. He glanced around the room, noticing his limbs sitting on the other side of the room. Scratch glared back, and pulled the limbs closer.

“What are you trying to pull?” K’nuckles growled.

“Nothing, nothing, we just think you’ll be a great help in the search for Candied Island.”

“Candied Island?! Who told you I’d been to Candied Island?!”

“Um… You did?”

“Oh yeah… Well I say a lotta things. I ain’t taking you!”

“If you help us out, we’ll… We’ll give you your limbs back?”

“I’d rather rot here!”

It was more than Scratch could handle. This absolute parasite had only been awake for a few minutes, and already he’d touched a nerve. Scratch that, many nerves. Too many nerves.

“I’m starting to think you don’t actually know the way to your precious island!” Scratch snapped.

K’nuckles reeled back. Or at least, about as much as a stump can reel back.

“Are you questioning my abilities as a sailor?” K’nuckles asked, “I’ll have you know, I sailed across the Sea of Teeth commanding the fastest vessel in the seven seas!”

“Right, and I stole a tour bus and drove it across an entire state in two minutes flat,” Scratch said, his sarcasm more than obvious.

“What the heck’s a bus?”

“What’s the Sea of Teeth.”

“You guys, calm-”

“You know what,” K’nuckles snapped back, interrupting Adia, “I’ll prove to you that I’m a great adventurer!”

“Yeah, and how are you gonna do that?” Scratch goaded.

K’nuckles, with a massive grunt of effort, shifted his mass. His face planted onto the floor of the cabin. With labored breaths, he dragged himself forward, his slow crawl leaving a trail of sticky drool behind him. He pulled himself forward with every last bit of his strength, until he was right next to Scratch’s ankles.

He took a moment to catch his breath. Then another. It was a pathetic display, but impressive enough, all limbs considered.

Then, in one swift motion the pirate snatched one of his hands out of Scratch’s grasp with his mouth. Before he could react, K’nuckles had already affixed it to his arm. Scratch jumped out of his seat and backed away, only for K’nuckles to grab his ankle. He fell to the ground, scattering the wooden limbs across the floor in the process.

A ravenous smile spread across the captain’s face, and he scrambled forward-

Only for the leg of a chair to pin him down.

“Aw, come on! No fair-”

“Quiet,” Adia said, her voice unusually stern, “All we want you to do is read off a few maps for us, ok?”

“I ain’t spilling the secret location of Candied Island to a couple of weirdos!” K’nuckles said, devolving into tears, “You’ll probably tell everyone about it, a-and then I won’t get any more candy! The candy I searched for m-my entire life!”

Scratch and Adia exchanged a glance, and rolled their eyes.

“Is that all? Why didn’t you say so?” Adia asked.

“H-Huh?”

“I promise, if you help us reach Candied Island, we won’t tell anyone else its whereabouts.”

The tears stopped. K’nuckles paused. With his single attached hand, he rubbed at his chin, though it was unclear if he was actually thinking. 

“And your friend?” He asked.

“Scratch?” Adia said, her voice returning to its usual chipper tone.

It was a bad idea, but hey, what’s an adventure without a little risk?

“Fine,” He responded, “But between you and me, I’m not the one responsible if he hijacks the ship.”

“Fantastic! K’nuckles?”

“Well… I suppose I could lead you there-”

“Perfect!” Adia exclaimed, dropping the chair, “Scratch, give the captain his legs.”

Scratch couldn’t bring himself any closer to the pirate, not after he proved himself to be so unstable. He placed the remaining wooden limbs on the ground, and kicked them over.

K’nuckles grabbed at them, cramming them back onto his numerous stumps. Once they had attached properly, he pushed himself off the ground, grabbed one of Scratch’s many maps, and laid it out on the table.

Scratch and Adia peered over his shoulder as he inspected the map, running a sharp wooden finger over every island visible on the open sea. Soon enough, he stopped. He let out a small, mischievous chuckle, before poking a hole on the island.

“Scrape, Aida, we’re going up!”

“You mean North?” Scratch said.

“Sure, sure,” K’nuckles said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna see if I can finish off that caramel.”

With that, he walked out. Adia picked up the map, inspecting the chosen island.

“Weird… It’s just south of Alaska. How did he end up all the way out here?”

“I dunno, maybe the candy peddlers dumped him in the ocean.”

“Well, either way, tomorrow we set sail for… This Island.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, here we are.”

Molly and Flapjack had stopped across the street from Molly’s house, close enough for her ghost friend to see every minute detail. The vine-infested ‘dump’ had quickly become her favorite place in the world, a dream she had almost lost, her family’s forever home. No matter how many bittersweet memories or sad tribulations trailed behind her, she could always rely on this place and the people inside to bring her back up.

“I know it may not look like much,” She started, “But-”

“Wow, this is your home?!” Flapjack exclaimed, startling her, “It’s like a big blue whale floating on the calm waters of an old dock.”

“Uh, that’s good, right?”

Flapjack grabbed her by the shoulders, looked her in the eyes, and clarified in the softest, sweetest voice Molly had ever heard.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“If you think that’s great, wait until you see the inside!” Molly said, a wave of excitement overtaking her well of sorrow, “I think Libby can attest to that! Isn’t that right-”

Molly stopped herself, and looked around. Libby was nowhere to be found. 

“Huh? Libby!” She called out, getting no response, “Did we leave her behind?” 

“That’s weird,” Flapjack said, “I thought she was right behind us.”

A small pit of worry took root in Molly’s stomach, but she dismissed it. Libby was acting so suspicious of her new friend, she probably went off to research pirates or something. Yeah, that was it.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Molly said, her worry more obvious than she’d hoped, “...You know, I’m sure my brother would love-”

“ You have a brother?! ”

Molly could see where this was going. Before he could fly through the front door, she grabbed him by the arm, slingshotting him back.

“Ok, yes, but you can’t meet him yet.”

“Why not?” Flapjack asked in the sulkiest tone imaginable.

“Because he’s- Um, I mean my family’s still…”

Molly’s mouth froze. No matter how many potential lies ran through her head, she couldn’t ever bring herself to use them. That said, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth. How would she feel if she found out she was a replacement friend?

So, under the moment’s unending pressure, she came up with the next best thing.

“Wwwhyyy don’t… We play a little game and meet my family later?”

Flapjack smirked. A tiny, manic giggle escaped his mouth.

“What kinda game?”

Molly smirked. A tiny, worried giggle escaped her mouth.

“Hide and seek! As in, you gotta hide from my family for the whole day, and uh, I’m gonna help you, and if they spot you we lose, ok!”

“Ok!”

With that, Flapjack floated into the house, his giggling fading out as he slowly went through the door. Molly let out a sigh. She wasn’t sure how long she could hold out, but maybe she could get everyone else used to the idea of Flapjack before revealing him. Steeling her resolve, she ran up to the door, bursting in like it was any other day, even if she ignored yet another pair of eyes, watching her and the ghost with a look of concern and confusion.

She almost slammed the door behind her, finding the rest of her family still at home. They were sitting around the living room, watching what she assumed was the beginning of an apparent classic that she had never watched, ‘Wilbert Wankus and the Candy Contraption.’

Flapjack was nowhere to be seen. With him lurking the house, Molly decided her current best course of action was to eavesdrop.

“-ever find out where Molly was going this morning?” Her dad asked.

“She said she was going to Sweets & Treats with Libby,” Darryl explained.

“What? But they're not open on Sundays anymore,” Her mom said.

 “That’s the thing, I tried telling her, but she ran off… Hey, why did they start doing that anyway?”

“I think it was on the local news last week. Something about their whole stock being stolen overnight?”

“Well whatever it is, I hope she’s safe,” Her dad said, tugging at a bit of his hair, “Oh no- Sharon, what if the thief decides to strike today? ”

“Like I said, Pete, overnight. Besides, no one’s actually seen the thief yet.”

Molly winced. She took a step towards the stairs. Only a few steps away from-

CREAK!!

Her entire family snapped to face her. In an instant, her dad was next to her, his nerves having gotten the better of him again.

“Molly, is everything ok? Where’s Libby?”

“Ooh, were you forced to leave her behind in a thrilling car chase with the mysterious ice cream thief?” Darryl added, deepening their dad’s fears.

“They didn’t run into any ice cream thief,” Their mom said, before locking eyes with Molly, “Did you?”

Molly’s entire body froze. She couldn’t even lie to some random ghost she’d just met. How was she supposed to make up a believable story for her parents, who for the record knew about her various adventures with ghosts?!

She gulped, raising several eyebrows, as the world began closing in on her…

And then she felt something slide back up her throat.

No… Not slide…

Crawl.

Whatever it was, it gripped at her tongue with seven pairs of small, tingling claws. Her tongue went numb before the strange, musty taste could set in. Her mouth and throat followed. She tried to scream, but it was like her vocal cords had been taken over.

Her mouth opened all on its own.

A moment later, her voice came out, using words that could never have been hers, and in a tone that was completely alien to her.

“Oh, no, we didn’t run into any thief! And don’t you worry about ol’ Libby! We went on a lil’ adventure and she walked back home…”

Sweat ran down Molly’s face, her eyes darting between the faces of her three family members as her mouth formed into a smile so unnaturally wide it hurt. She felt like she could keel over at any moment. That is, until Darryl shrugged, and walked away.

“Phew, glad you two were safe,” Her dad said, “But please, let us know next time you head off somewhere.”

“Yeah, and, I can’t believe I’m saying this but listen to Darryl every once in a while,” Her mom said.

With that, they returned to their movie. With all suspicion removed and her mouth falling asleep, Molly sprinted up the stairs and to her room, a room where a mirror just as tall as her waited. A room where she forced her jaw open with her bare hands, revealing a horrific sight.

A giant, yellowish isopod stabbing its many legs into her tongue.

She again tried screaming, but to no avail.

Instead, she spoke. Or rather, the parasite spoke with her mouth.

“Pretty cool, right?”

A moment later, it detached, and floated in front of her. Before she could panic, it morphed into the shape of a sailor, complete with a matching tricorne… Or bicorne? In fact, it morphed into the shape of-

“Fapja?” Molly said, her mouth still numb.

“Yeah! You were supposed to help me hide but I helped you hide me and it was so amazing!”

“Bu… Bu why dija mak me ly?”

“Wha?”

Molly grabbed her tongue, massaging it until she could feel the blood flowing through it again.

“But why did you make me lie!”

“Oh that’s easy, every great adventurer knows how to lie!”

“What?! Who taught you that?!”

“Well, it was… It was…”

Flapjack stopped. For the first time since she’d met him, the corners of his mouth turned down. His eyes began to water, and his lip quivered. 

“It was… It… I- I can’t remember…”

The specter cried, his silent tears falling to the floor. Molly sat down on her bed. She couldn’t stand to see anyone like this, let alone her new best friend. A few ideas shot through her head, but in the moment, only one seemed right.

She stood up, grabbed him by the face, and forced her ghostly friend’s mouth into a smile.

“Captain, I promise that by the time you’re done with me, you’ll be so enhappified, you won’t ever worry about your memories again.”

Flapjack looked up at her, and snickered.

“‘Enhappify.’ That’s a funny word.”

Molly beamed. She said it again, and Flapjack laughed. She kept saying it until the spirit was rolling on the ground laughing. Maybe, even in the presence of his scattered memories, shifting hat, and unusual transformations, this particular friendship would be even easier to build than she thought, right?

…

Right?

Chapter Text

After several aggravating days on the open water, the motley crew of the mission to find wooden Atlantis were now on what Scratch might call a wild goose chase. A chase drawing them straight to some mysterious island that both he and Adia agreed couldn’t be the captain’s Candied Island.

Their suspicions were confirmed when, upon reaching the island, all they were greeted with was a towering pyramid in the middle of a maple tree forest.

The boat slowed to a stop. K’nuckles was the first to disembark, leaping onto the rickety wooden dock below. Scratch and Adia watched from the side of the boat, a look of aggravation on one and curiosity on the other. They dropped a gangway, and followed K’nuckles onto the island.

“There she is,” The old pirate captain said, “Maple Syrup Island!”

Scratch and Adia looked out into the depths of the forest, the dirt path to the structure illuminated by old flickering street lamps. Small brown platforms lined the path, each growing its own crop of mold and mushrooms. Each tree had a metal rod stuck in the side, each connected to a tube which disappeared under the soft earth.

Scratch took a deep breath. He grumbled something incomprehensible, as Adia held him back from strangling K’nuckles, not that the captain noticed. He continued running his mouth, and Adia approached him.

“Hey, captain, what are we doing here?” She asked.

“I’ve got a few good reasons, woman,” K’nuckles said, pulling a glass bottle out of his coat pocket, “The first is that I ain’t taking you to Candied Island without maple syrup.”

“And the second?” Adia continued, growing more irritated by the second.

“The second? Oh yeah, I gotta find Flapjack!”

Adia looked at him with a genuine sadness in her eyes. Probably because K’nuckles mistook the sad old guy for Flap. It made no sense to the captain, so he ignored it.

“...Who’s Flapjack?”

“Ya know, after all these years with him, I never did find that out. But, I’m not going to Candied Island without him. Maybe without Bubbie… Feels like it’s been years since I last saw them.”

“Well, I’m, uh, sorry for-”

“But that’s ridiculous! They would’ve found me by now!”

“But what if they didn’t?”

“Don’t be stupid, that boy has a screw loose or something. Now let’s get that maple syrup already!”

With a laugh, K’nuckles ran into the forest. Adia sprinted after him. Scratch stayed with the boat.

As they grew closer to the pyramid, its resemblance to a pile of pancakes became all too obvious. The golden brown pyramid’s unorthodox figure would creep out the average human, but K’nuckles was too dumb to notice. His jolly laugh echoed through the forest, filling the silence he had again failed to notice.

K’nuckles stopped. He stood at the building’s doorstep, maple syrup dripping down its sides. He didn’t remember this being here, but he thought nothing of it. Adia stopped next to him, though she didn’t seem to be focused on the structure. Her eyes were locked onto the little brown platforms lining the path. Their fungal growths pulsed and vibrated as the streams of syrup soaked into them.

There was a certain fear in her eyes, and K’nuckles noticed. It was the kind of thing he’d see in Flapjack at times like this, and moreover, it had always been the perfect opportunity to make himself look like a great adventurer.

“You’re not afraid of a few flapjacks, are ya?” He laughed.

“What? I’m not-” Adia stopped herself, “Unless… They can’t be…”

She knelt down next to the brown platforms.

“What are you doing?” K’nuckles asked.

“Getting a closer look. That factory looks like a pile of pancakes, so maybe these smaller structures were built in a similar way. If I could just remove some of the mold…”

K’nuckles rolled his eyes. This know-it-all was worried about a few brown circles on the ground when the ‘factory’ or whatever she called it was sitting right in front of her!

Fine. He’d go in himself.

With a creak, he grabbed the handle of a rotting wooden door, and yanked it open. A cool, rotten wind blew against his face. In the darkness, a series of bioluminescent mushrooms growing on damp stones lit the path forward.

Adia stopped, and sniffed the air. She stood up, joining K’nuckles at the entrance.

“That smells exactly like the mold along the path,” She said.

“Eh, who cares,” K’nuckles responded, as he stepped into the factory.

Adia pulled a small box out of her pocket, and followed behind him, pointing the box at everything within.

“We appear to be entering an abandoned factory on an island off the coast of Alaska,” She said in a strange, mysterious tone, “What lay behind these pancake-shaped walls is undoubtedly a mystery to the average person. We believe it to be an integral part of our search for Wooden Atlantis and, by extension, the lost Candied Island.”

“Who the heck is she talking to…” K’nuckles muttered.

They continued forward, Adia still narrating their journey, until they reached a fork in the path. One side was blocked off, the sound of boiling liquid and the distinct smell of maple syrup penetrating the brick wall. The second path, however, led to an opened door.

“The path seems to end here,” Adia continued, “If this really is a syrup factory, it’s likely we’ll find what remains of-”

“Why are you still talking?” K’nuckles growled.

Adia stopped, and tapped the little glass pane on her box.

“I’m not really sure how to explain a Click-Clock show to you, so… How about I just show you when we’re done here?”

“... I just realized I don’t care. C’mon, I ain’t waiting any longer!”

K’nuckles ran into the bright room, failing to notice when his companion stopped in her tracks, a look of disgusted terror spread across her face. He could see why, but had no reason to freeze up himself. After all, it was only Flapjack’s flapjacks.

A stack of seven perfect pancakes, now flattened and fused with age, and held up with four pale, floury limbs. Almost as K’nuckles remembered it. Since the last time they’d met, the creature’s green mold and brown mushrooms had grown thicker, now soaked in an equally thick layer of syrup. The sticky substance seemed to be the only thing keeping the creature together as it pulsed and groaned atop its pastry throne. When its lips parted, strings of aged syrup crust followed, peeling back before a single, bubbling word was uttered.

“Cap…Tain.”

K’nuckles stepped up to him, and handed over his glass syrup bottle.

“Just fill ‘er up with the usual.”

The creature took hold of the bottle with a slow, shaky hand. A small stream of syrup began to flow from the ceiling, falling into the bottle.

“Coming all the way here… For syrup…”

“If I was just here for the syrup, I’d have stolen it from outside. I’m looking for Flapjack.”

“Flap…Jack? He hasn’t visited… In four hundred years.”

For a moment, time stood still. Four hundred is a big number, far higher than K’nuckles could count. It was enough to break his mind. Or it would be, if his mind didn’t reject it. 

If Adia hadn’t butt in.

“E-Excuse me, um… What should I call you?” Adia asked, pointing her box at the creature.

“Y...ou can call me… Flapjacks.”

“Ok, Flapjacks, a-are those things out there your children are something?”

“Nobody wants to work… For a gross flapjack creature… anymore. I made more… So we could share our syrup… With the world.”

“Oh. That’s… Surprisingly innocent. But how do you ship the syrup out?”

“We… give Bl…Ind people jobs.”

The syrup stopped flowing. The creature popped a brand new cork on the bottle, and handed it to K’nuckles, snapping him out of his temporal funk. He grumbled, accepted the bottle, and took a swig. He shivered.

“If Flapjack ain’t here, he’s probably back in Stormalong Harbor waiting for me.”

The mention of Stormalong piqued Adia’s interest. In one quick motion, she put the box away, eagerly replacing it with a small notebook.

“Stormalong?!” She exclaimed, unable to hide her excitement, “You know where it is?!”

“Are you sure… You want to go back? There are ghosts… Which haunt these wa…Ters. They won’t take kindly… To your return.”

“Whatever, weirdo,” K’nuckles said, pointing back at Adia, “Just point her in the direction of Stormalong Harbor.”

“As you wish… If it st…Ands, follow the… W on your com…Pass South… for four days.”

Adia wrote down the creature’s words, closed up her notebook, and turned to leave.

“Thanks, Flapjacks!” She said.

“Yeah sure,” K’nuckles grumbled.

He followed her out, the thought of four hundred years having passed stuck in the back of his tiny mind. It was worrying, too worrying for him to think about anything else. Too worrying for him to think about nothing. So, he did the one thing he’d always done when a worrying thought like this one crept into his mind.

He ignored it.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the darkness of her secret bunker, cloaked in a gray trench coat, surrounded by uneaten hardtack and books about pirates and naval warfare and sailing vessels, Libby Stein-Torres laughed to herself. Her eyes drooped, fighting back sleep as she put the finishing touches on what was her best lead on the mysterious Captain Flapjack.

“Aha, it shall be a most splendid occasion when þe great Sir Mollicus layeþ þine eyes on þy sacred text…” She muttered.

Her mind fought back the urge to crumble. She may have found the first link, but that didn’t mean she was done. She still had to show Molly. Grabbing the gold piece, an old book, and her journal, Libby stumbled out of the bunker, nearly tripping on her coattails in the process.

She reached the door. Her vision blurred.

“Unhand me, vile contraption!” She shouted, grabbing at the door with a limp hand, “Not even your impenetrable defenses can stop me from delivering þy message!”

Libby shoved the leads into her coat pockets. She shambled to the back of the room, grabbed her zombie-proof blanket, and wrapped it around herself. With a deep, shaky breath and the tiny voice in the back of her head thoroughly clouded out, she charged at the door, a series of spikes appearing along the surface of the blanket-

SLAM!!

-And found herself on the floor, defeated.

“Alas, þou hast bested me…”

However, before she could give in to the trap of sleep, there was a knock at the door. Libby snapped to attention, and listened in for a familiar voice.

“Libby? Are you in there? It’s Ollie, I, um, need your help with something-”

The voice in the back of Libby’s mind jumped for joy. Maybe she wouldn’t be trapped here forever, assuming her words came out right.

“Haha, I would be most happy to assist þou, sir Oliver,” She said, “But þis wall appears to be unbreachable. Doþ þou have þe means to destroy my wretched adversary?”

“Huh?” Ollie responded, “Do you mean the door?”

“So þat is þy name, my metallic fiend!”

Libby heard a slight exclamation of concern from the other side of the door, followed by the loud creak of a turning valve. A moment later, the door slid open, revealing an equal parts confused and concerned Oliver Chen.

“I þank you, noble friend of þe spirits,” Libby muttered, forcing her eyes open.

“Are you ok?” Ollie asked, “Is this normal?”

“Ah, ‘tis but a minor affliction. It hast been twenty six hours since my eyes last saw rest. What brings þe to mine sacred hovel?”

“Oh. Well, it’s Molly-”

“Þe great Mollicus be in danger?!”

“Wait, no! At least, I don’t think so. I just-“

“You hast laid eyes upon my spectral opponent!”

Ollie paused.

“Your opponent…?”

“Þe golden ghoul responsible for confining me to þis horrid exile…”

“Um… Sure-”

“Splendid, my boy. Not to worry, I hast discovered a way to destroy þat undead parasite-”

“ Wait! Slow down! ”

In spite of her insomnia induced overconfidence, Libby stopped.

“I don’t want to destroy him!” Ollie continued, “Or her, or whatever they are, I just want to know why Molly’s trying to hide it! I tried asking her about it, and she sorta started… Baby talking, I think?”

Libby stared at him, her eyes blinking out of sync as her clouded mind processed Ollie’s words. She reached into her coat pocket, and slowly pulled out the three leads.

She had an audience. She had some of the facts. Now, she just needed to pull her words together one more time.

“Libby, do you know what’s going on?” Ollie asked.

“Þere may be some knowledge I am able to impart to þe,” She said, lifting up the gold piece, “Our adversary abandoned þy coin, one which discloses þe exact moment of his demise.”

“How?”

Libby’s vision was too blurry to recognise the face on the coin, so she had to go by memory.

“To his bad fortune, þy coin was minted at þe dawn of a new century, þe eighteenþ.”

Ollie leaned in.

“So what is he? A knight or something?”

“Nay… A swindler!”

“A pirate?! ”

“Alas, our fair Mollicus now associates wiþ mine enemy.”

“Sure, I guess, but what-”

“Þy coin’s age hast given me a perfect beginning!” Libby interrupted, “One of þe most infamous individuals to ever sail across þe ocean’s murky depths was none oþer þan one Captain Ridiculous of yon sailing vessel ‘Disaster!’”

Ollie backed away.

“I’ve, uh, never heard of him?”

“ One must search þe deepest depþs of human history to discover his many feats of exploration! His artistic ability was far greater þan any words þou may attribute to he! ”

Ollie backed away again.

“I think I’m just gonna ask Molly again, y-you should probably get some sleep-”

“ Nay, sir Oliver! For I hast discovered þy shining specter wiþin yon sacred texts! ”

Libby grabbed the old book, flipped to a picture of a man and child trapped in ice, and shoved it in Ollie’s face, pointing at the child.

“ Gaze upon his horrific countenance! Gaze, and despair! ”

Ollie, now with a look of pure terror on his face, did as he was told. After a moment, he responded.

“Libby, that’s just a kid.”

“Indeed, he may appear innocent, but þat be his great deception…”

“Look, I’ll tell Molly about all of this, but you seriously need to get some sleep!”

Libby’s vision blurred further. She had mere moments...

“I shan't rest! I shall stop at noþing to inform þe great sir Mollicus of þe danger she is in, even if þou must drag my lifeless body þrough scorching flame or ragged-!”

Before she could finish, she passed out, face-planting onto the floor.

Ollie, having spent enough time around sleep-deprived Libby to understand most of her ramblings, got the message. He grabbed one of her coattails, and with a heavy grunt, dragged her out of the bunker.

Their next stop? Molly’s house.

Chapter Text

Another four days on the open sea passed, but Scratch’s feelings on their stowaway pirate captain had not. He was beginning to wonder if they would ever pass. Or if the pirate in question would ever pass. He never expected to be this irate over some niche historical figure, even if for some reason he couldn’t shake the feeling that it had happened at least five or six times before.

He stood at the starboard side, about as far away from the captain as possible without taking their emergency lifeboat or bathysphere. Besides, even though she’d seemed far more tolerant of the pirate since their stop at his maple red herring, he would never dream of leaving Adia alone with someone like K’nuckles.

It was strange, though. There was something about the blue pirate that was so unquestionably familiar. Almost relatable. It made Scratch want to mope in a corner and vomit all over the deck at the same time.  

There, lost in thought and staring into the deep endless blue of the ocean, Scratch heard a creak. His first thoughts turned to the hole in the deck, and how that might finally be catching up with them. A second, louder creak turned his head to their fuel supply. Thanks to the captain, their last stop was at a place with no way to refuel. Adia always packs reserves, but there was no telling how long they would be on the water for at this rate. At least they seemed to be on the right path now, with her focus once again locked onto Wooden Atlantis. Stormalong.

The third creak brought to mind a several hundred year-old wooden joint. Before Scratch had the chance to escape, the captain had slung his arm around him. He hung his head over the railing in what appeared to be a drunken stupor, his other hand gripping his maple syrup bottle.

“Heyyy Scratchy…”

“K’nuckles.”

“Did- Did I ever tell ya just h-how much you two mean to me?”

The boat jumped over a small wave. K’nuckles lost balance for a moment, and spilled a bit of his sticky drink on Scratch’s favorite shirt. The shirt he wore when he decided to leave Brighton, to live life to the fullest in the time he had. Scratch clenched his fists.

“Are you serious?” Scratch asked, “What could the two of us possibly mean to you? ”

The backhanded question seemed to slap the drunkenness right out of the pirate.

“Relax, Scratch, I ain’t-”

“And there’s another thing,” Scratch snapped, “Only my friends get to call me Scratch.”

“... Your name must be pretty boring if your own friends can’t remember it.”

“Oh really? That’s rich coming from the guy named after a body part he doesn’t have! ”

“I too have k’nuckles-!”

K’nuckles raised his fist. Scratch grabbed it. Before he could pull it off, the sailor threw a right hook into his face. Scratch stumbled back, more out of shock than pain.

“I told her I wouldn’t do this,” K’nuckles said, “But if it’s a fight you want, then it’s a-”

Scratch pounced on him, pinning him on the ground. 

“Neither of us want you here!” Scratch shouted over the crashing waves, “I’m not even sure you’re a real captain! You’re a parasite! The worst of the w-”

Scratch stopped. His own words echoed in his head. 

‘...The worst of the worst.’

That… That wasn’t his voice. In fact, he didn’t recognize it at all. Still, it hurt, stabbed into a deep pit in his soul with a pain he would never dream of using against another person, and yet…

“I’m a real captain!” K’nuckles said, “And I’ve got the papers to prove it!”

Scratch shook himself back to reality. Slowly, he released one of K’nuckles’ hands. The pirate, a look of aggravation on his face, pulled an old, wet piece of parchment from his coat. 

It was true, he was a real captain. It did say he got it just because he could raise anchor, but Scratch could ignore that for now. He stood up, almost horrified by his outburst.

“Um, do you need a hand?” Scratch asked.

“Thank you, but-” The captain stopped, and smirked, “Sure, pal, I could use a hand.”

He held out one of his wooden hands, one of his fingers suspiciously outstretched. Still, Scratch felt he had to give him a chance. He reached out, and grabbed his hand. For some reason, he only felt one finger. And with a single pull, he found out why.

PPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHH…

The stench! Dear cob, the stench! It was so bad, it almost drowned out the distinct sound of K’nuckles’ laughter. It was a fart joke. A really stupid fart joke. And somehow, despite everything, Scratch joined him. Scratch laughed.

As the pirate got up, Scratch realized he wasn’t looking at some blue alien from another time. He was a little closer to his past self than he’d like to admit, but with at least a tiny fragment more of that adventurous spirit. And fewer morals.

Soon enough, their laughter died down.

“I gotta hand it to you,” Scratch said, “I was not expecting that.”

“Ah, Flap used to love that one…” K’nuckles said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“About that-”

“He ain’t dead,” K’nuckles growled, “Now, what am I supposed to call you?”

“Todd-”

“I was right, it is boring.”

“-Because one good prank doesn’t make us friends just yet.”

Scratch held out his hand, this time in an attempt at peace. K’nuckles eyeballed it, before jamming his own wooden hand into it.

“Good. Because I don’t want your friendship-”

“More like he can’t have it!”

Scratch and K’nuckles jumped, pivoting to face the voice.

“I wouldn’t be surprised!” He continued, “A captain with no ship can’t put a friend on it!”

The… Whatever that purple thing was, transformed into a miniature drum set and played a rimshot, before transforming back into its vague humanoid shape, and laughing at its own joke, revealing a set of rotting teeth lined with swollen gums.

“Wha- Th-Th- Who-” Scratch sputtered.

“Peppermint Larry?!” K’nuckles exclaimed, “What the heck happened to ya?”

“Yup, it’s me, in the flesh! And speaking of it, you’re looking a lot less fleshy than the last time I saw you, K’nuckles! Your skin’s thinner, too!”

K’nuckles ground his teeth. Scratch continued sputtering. The very sight of the thing had sent him into shock. He stood there, motionless, as K’nuckles lost it.

“ I’ll end you!! ”

He jumped up and down, clawing at the air around the intruder, who just continued laughing.

“I’m afraid something already did that, K’nuckles! About three hundred years before you got here!”

“Wait, wasn’t it four hundred?” K’nuckles interrupted, stopping to process the new number.

“Where’d you get a number like that? Some marooned sea monster!”

“That- That doesn’t matter, what are you doing here?!”

“Me? What are you doing back in Stormalong?!”

“Stormalong?”

Larry just laughed… Again.

“I’d tell you how to get there, K’nuckles… But I’ve never been happier to see someone gone!”

Before he had the chance to question Larry further, he disappeared into the ocean, his gurgling laughs fading out beneath the waves, and leaving both Scratch and K’nuckles speechless. A moment later, Adia ran out of the bridge, excited and carrying a map.

“Alright, so if what Flapjacks said is true, we should be right above our fabled Wooden Atlantis!” She explained, “ Scratch, we’re gonna have to use the bathysphere for this one, so let’s hope our last catch didn’t damage it. Thanks to that same catch, we’ve only got about two thousand meters of cable left. Hopefully, that’ll be enough.”

K’nuckles didn’t respond. Scratch couldn’t.

“Are you guys ok?” Adia asked, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ghost. It was the perfect descriptor. Something built up in his head, like his mind was trying to throw up and cry at the same time. At that moment, Scratch couldn’t handle it any longer.

He passed out on the deck.

~~~~~~~~~~

Molly McGee hadn’t slept.

Between Libby’s mysterious disappearance, her family nearly weaseling the truth out of her, and Ollie’s multiple attempts at asking her about the chartreuse specter following her around, one of which ended with the ghost in question pulling that horrifying bug trick again, she was beginning to think hiding the ghost in her room was a terrible idea.

As she thought about it further, Flapjack’s current residence in Scratch’s old dollhouse became even more of a problem. Let’s face it, her new friend was the definition of loud. She had to stop him from breaking into song at multiple points throughout the day. His laugh was high and shrill, and garnered a visit from Darryl the last time he broke out in it. Worst of all, if anyone so much as stepped within the vicinity of her room, he stalked behind them, barely able to contain his excitement. If it weren’t for their little game, he would’ve been found out at least eight or nine separate times.

She had to find a new place to hide him… But where?

Well, he was a sailor at some point… So if he’d feel at home anywhere, it would be near the water. His home before he died was out of the question, thanks to his memory being shot… But if he had spent several years on the water, then that might just be the best place to try getting his memory back. Only problem, Brighton was a landlocked city. 

Landlocked… Save for…

Molly jammed one final pin into her corkboard and, with the thrill of an epiphany washing over her, she shouted-

“ The Brighton River! ”

It was the perfect spot! She hadn’t forgotten a single detail! Not one!

She took a step back from her work, a string tying a series of sketches, pictures, clippings, and a few plushies the ghoul had taken a particular interest in. It was a beautiful, perfect plan. All it needed now was a night to-

Molly’s alarm rang out, followed by the much louder sound of Flapjack flying out of his current residence. He zipped over to her like a bullet, gripping her in a hug with about as much force as one.

“ GOOD MORNING, NEW BEST FRIEND!! ” He shouted.

It was way too loud, but Molly couldn’t stay mad at him.

“Good morning, Flap, my man!” She exclaimed, “You ready for, um, another big day in Brighton?!”

“You know the answer to that question, Mol! I can’t wait to meet every single one of your-”

Suddenly, the door to the attic opened, and Darryl poked his head through.

“Hey Molly, June’s coming over to do some tests on the Phantom Canister, mind if I borrow…”

He trailed off. He looked around the room, at the length of string obscuring his view, at all the junk lining the walls, and at his sister, hugging what appeared to be a gold-ish ghost. 

“You know what, forget I asked.”

And the door closed.

“Oh sweet baby corn, Darryl knows,” Molly said.

“Sweet baby what?” Flapjack asked.

“Uh, nevermind, let’s just get this day started, alright?”

“Alright!”

Molly followed her brother out of the room, and Flapjack followed behind her. Neither of them noticed the shadowy creature perched on a phone line outside her window.

~~  ~~

The McGee’s were having waffles. Everyone was already at the table, save for Molly. She sat down, alone, a painfully large smile on her face and a plan running through her head. A plate had already been set out for her. With no hesitation, she grabbed one of the waffles, and shoved the entire thing in her mouth.

That should keep him quiet for a second.

Her mom looked at her. Then at her dad. They both nodded.

“Mol, is something wrong?” Her mom asked.

“We’re sorry for asking,” Her dad started, “We just saw you were acting a bit… Different yesterday, and we’re both um, a little worried.”

Dangit, they were onto her. She shook her head ‘no’ as fast as she could, before turning to Darryl. He looked at her with a kind of half-understanding accusatory stare that had more of an air of ‘I’m not involved in this’ than anything else. 

So, the plan was falling apart. No big deal.

“Listen, we know it’s been a couple months, but we’ll understand if this is about Scr-”

“Everything’s fine!” Molly’s voice said, interrupting her mom, “Actually, there’s something a little surprising I’ve just gotta tell you guys!”

Ok, so the plan was really falling apart.

Her parents shared another concerned glance, before her dad continued.

“Ok, Molly,” Her dad said, “Surprise us!” 

Molly gagged, and the golden ghost flowed out of her mouth like a string of vomit, this time immediately forming into his usual shape.

“Hello, friends!” He shouted, “I’m-”

“Hi nam’s Fapja,” Molly sputtered, “He’s ma nu frend, nd thr’s abslutli nohin yu need tu worre abit!”

With that, she grabbed Flapjack and the remaining waffles, and bolted, leaving her parents shocked and confused, and Darryl utterly unimpressed.

~~  ~~

“So I think we can both agree today won’t be complete without Libby,” Molly said as they approached the bookstore.

“Yeah, I just hope we get to talk a bit more! She disappeared so quickly last time…”

Molly let out a nervous chuckle, Libby’s suspicions echoing in her head.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Molly replied, “Just make sure you stay hidden, alright? Not everyone in town knows ghosts are real.”

“Aye aye, Ma’am!” Flapjack said with a cartoonish salute.

He floated next to the window, scanning the entire store, until he spotted Libby’s turtles. With a look of excitement, he flew in, landing in their enclosure, and transformed into a golden green turtle. Granted, the turtle was a completely different species from the others, it didn’t even have proper legs, but it was a turtle.

Molly stepped into Book Marks the Spot, ignored the distinct lack of customers, and stepped up to Libby’s mom, Leah Stein-Torres, who was in the middle of reorganizing the Sci-Fi section.

“Let’s see… Sand Pile should go here, Killing Residence 4 here… How did The Brothers Sisters get here-?”

Molly cleared her throat.

“Hey, what’s up Molly?”

“Nothing much, I was just wondering if Libby was around.”

“Sorry, kiddo, her and Ollie went looking for you this morning.”

Molly knew exactly why. Ugh… Yet another part of her plan destroyed. How many times was this gonna happen today?!

“Oh, well thanks anyway,” Molly said, turning away.

“Hold on a moment,” Leah said, grabbing a book off the shelf, “I managed to find a copy of Bill and Bob’s Terrible Explorations for you.”

Molly gladly accepted the book, and left, making sure to signal Flapjack from the window before continuing down the street.

~~  ~~

“It’s in here somewhere…” Flapjack muttered.

His face was buried in trash. He was digging through the same dumpster they’d met at. Molly stood as lookout, directing passerby’s attention away from the flying bits of moldy burgers, crusty straws, and wet plastic.

“So can you explain why we’re back here again?” Molly asked.

“Because I left my treasure in here, silly!” Flapjack replied, tossing aside an old gum wrapper.

“... You mean the treasure you were using to pay for the ice cream?”

“Yup! It’s gotta be down here…”

Molly narrowly dodged a plastic water bottle, and made a note to come back and clean this whole alleyway up when her mission was done. This continued for a few minutes, the trash becoming more and more revolting until Flapjack popped out of the dumpster, carrying an old wooden chest.

“Here it is!” Flapjack exclaimed, “A little reminder of my adventuring days!”

Molly took a close look at it. The words ‘Capt n’ F’ were engraved on the side, just barely visible behind the years of rot and mold. It looked genuine enough.

“Wow, where did you get this?” Molly asked.

“I dunno, I think I stole-”

“ You stole it?! ”

Flapjack shrunk back.

“I uh, don't really remember,” He muttered, “B-But I haven’t stolen anything since then. I-I think…”

Molly sighed.

“It’s ok if you don’t remember, but if you ever do, I’ll help you return it, ok?”

“...Can I show you what’s inside first?”

“Well, obviously we’ve gotta see what's inside.”

Flapjack smiled, nodded, and gripped the lid of the chest. With a grunt, he pulled it open…

And found a single golden coin resting at the bottom.

“Oh. I thought…”

Tears started to fall from Flapjack’s eyes.

“I-I-I can’t return it! Th-Th-ere’s n-n-nothing-!”

“Hey,” Molly started, grabbing Flapjack’s face, “You still don’t remember who it belongs to. W-Who knows, it might belong to you! Let’s focus on your memory first, ok?”

Flapjack sniffled, looked her in the eyes, and nodded. Before they left, he grabbed the last remaining coin, and stashed it under his hat.

~~  ~~

Molly no longer had any intention of hiding Flapjack in the river. Pretty much everyone knew about him now, so even trying would be pointless. Still, in a way she had part of a promise to keep, and the river would still be the perfect place to try getting a few of those memories back.

The Brighton river, having recently been downgraded from a level four biohazard to just a level two, flowed before them, surrounded by cleaning and construction equipment.

“Wow, what’s this place?” Flapjack asked.

“It’s a river! The cleanest river in Brighton,” Molly responded, “And, also the only river in Brighton.”

“Well what are we doing here?”

“...I, um, promised you wouldn’t have to worry about your memories, and I figured you’ve probably got a lot of memories tied to the water. Sorry I couldn’t find any way to the ocean-”

“Pfft, don’t be sorry!” Flapjack exclaimed, “I haven’t seen water since that mean ol’ purple lady put me back in the spiral!”

Molly froze. The spiral? He couldn’t mean the Flow of Failed Phantoms… Could he? And he was put back in? Why was he sent there in the first place? And how long was he stuck there before…

Before…

Before her was Flapjack, now hovering neck-deep in the water, staring away from her and staying so still, not a single ripple radiated from his position.

“Hey Flap, remember anything yet?!” Molly yelled.

He turned around. Molly’s heart jumped.

Flapjack’s eyes had changed. Their once sparkling vibrant yellow had been replaced with a deep, unending blackness, almost as if they’d disappeared entirely.

“Um, Flap, is everything ok out there?”

His head rose from the water, his mouth hanging open. His neck grew alongside it, leaving his shifting body waiting in the rapids. As his head grew, his now forked tongue flicked at the air, and his nose puffed out streams of black smoke.

“Ok, Flap,” Molly said, a hint of fear in her voice, “That’s a, kinda cool giant river monster, but is now really the best time for this?”

But Flapjack was gone. What stood in his place was a massive chartreuse serpent, stretching so far into the river Molly couldn’t see his end. His sharp scales shifted along its body, leaving no opening uncovered. His front flippers pressed into the dirt, sharp claws protruding forth and grazing her feet.

She turned to the great beast’s head. His beady black eyes stared into her soul. 

There was nothing behind them.

Before she could say anything more, he opened his mouth, and a yellow lick of fire burst forth.

Chapter Text

Scratch woke up crammed inside a small metal sphere with a blue pirate pressed uncomfortably close to him, his sickly sweet breath filling the sealed interior and fogging up the only window in what was now clearly the bathysphere.

“Hey, you’re awake,” K’nuckles muttered.

Scratch gagged, and rushed to rub the fog off the window. Outside, he saw Adia sealing the sphere shut with a drill. She noticed him, and waved.

“Hey Scratch, you're up!” She exclaimed, her voice muffled by the six-inch thick glass, “You ready to head down to our very own wooden Atlantis?!”

“Adia, I was asleep, ” Scratch said, “Wh-Why’d you seal me in before I woke up?”

“What’s that?! Sorry, it’s a little hard to hear you-!”

Scratch suddenly felt that if he could go through walls, this wouldn’t be a problem.

“-But if this is about you being asleep, we agreed you’d go down before we left, remember?! Your exact words were ‘I don’t care if I faint, I wanna see everything the world has to offer!’”

Oh, right.

“Don’t worry!” She continued, “You’ve got three hours of oxygen in there! That should be enough for the two of you, but just in case, I’ll pull you up in one! Got it?!”

Scratch sighed, rubbed some more of the fog off the glass, and gave her a thumbs-up. 

“For the love of Pete, hurry up and get us down there, woman!” K’nuckles snapped.

“Sounds like someone’s excited!” She said, “Alright, I’m hooking you guys to the cable now! Don’t forget to bring me some pictures!”

Scratch felt a creeping dread crawl down his spine as she walked around to the back of the bathysphere, out of sight and out of earshot. As the bathysphere began to rise into the air, he turned to K’nuckles.

“Why are you so invested in this?” Scratch asked.

“Are you kidding? I outlived Peppermint Larry!”

The entire world faded out of focus as the name hit Scratch’s ears. It didn’t matter that K’nuckles was describing every possible way he could gloat about this in vivid detail, it was a confirmation of one of Scratch’s worst fears.

“K’nuckles, does this mean that ghost we saw was-”

“Real? Of course he was real. A real pain in my butt.”

The bathysphere fell into the ocean, and Scratch’s stomach fell with it. The submersible sank much faster than either expected, and yet not fast enough. Scratch could feel every second pass as the tiny, creaking vessel sank further, and the light grew dimmer.

Before long, the only thing either of them could see was a tiny cone produced by a weak searchlight on the front of the vessel.

Before long, Scratch felt them hit the ocean floor, a cloud of sand and whatever strange creatures were producing that light blue glow flying into the water around them.

The bathysphere inched forward. Adia had kept her word, and was slowly dragging the sphere along the ocean floor. Scratch and K’nuckles looked out the observation window, examining what little of the environment they could see.

“This can’t be Stormalong…” K’nuckles said, a slight hint of fear in his voice.

“R-Really?” Scratch asked, “W-W-Why exactly?”

“Because… It’s too dark! Last time I was down here, I could see just fine-”

“Last time you were down here, you were a fish!”

Scratch jumped, slamming his head against the roof of the bathysphere. K’nuckles just turned around. Floating behind them was the purple ghost from before, the terrifying being known only as Peppermint Larry.

“What about-”

“Oh, K’nuckles,” Larry interrupted, “The straw doesn’t just let air down, you know!”

“Whatever, deadso!” K’nuckles snapped, “I ain’t taking advice from a ghost!”

He turned back around, and stuck his wooden butt in Larry’s face. Suddenly, K’nuckles’ expression changed. It was as if a biblical angel had appeared before him, and Scratch, despite the terror imposed by the spirit now riding alongside them, joined him, and saw a strange wooden structure half-buried in the sand.

“A barrel?” Scratch asked.

“The Candy Barrel!” K’nuckles exclaimed, “It’s still here! But if it’s here, and we’re here, and you’re here, then-”

“Like I’ve told you a hundred times, K'nuckles, this is Stormalong,” Larry said.

Scratch, remembering that he was supposed to bring Adia some pictures, and to a lesser degree the fact that he didn’t want to think about the ghost behind him, grabbed a camera and started snapping. However, as he searched for potential shots, one important detail became all too clear.

Not a single resident of Stormalong Harbor ever left.

As he sat at the side of the sphere, shaking and sputtering, K’nuckles and Larry continued their conversation.

“If this is the Candy Barrel, then… Can I have some candy?” K’nuckles asked.

“Well that depends. Do you have money this time?” Larry asked.

“Sure I do.”

He reached into Scratch’s pocket, pulled out a small piece of paper, and handed it to Larry.

“All right, I’ll just pop back and- Wait a minute, this isn’t money! This is just a picture!”

Scratch figured it was the only picture he ever kept in that pocket- The first photo he and Adia took when they saw each other again for the first time in years. Despite his paralyzing fear, he managed to force a hand out to snatch the photo, and shove it back into its resting place.

“What does it matter anyway?” K’nuckles snapped, “You’re dead!”

“Just because we’re dead, doesn’t mean we can pay with whatever random trash we find lying around.”

Scratch was, unfortunately, unable to fight his fear enough to retort.

“‘We?’ What do you mean, ‘we?’”

“Um, turn around K’nuckles.”

He grumbled, but complied. What he saw made his jaw drop. The entire population of Stormalong, all ghosts, living in the ruins of their (probably) beloved port town. 

They were a vile, ugly bunch, even without the snotty ectoplasm dripping from their floating frames. There was a ghost who looked like a doctor and a barber with an evil glint in his eye. A thin, slippery ghoul that looked to have never washed, in life or in death. A portly spirit carrying two slimy buckets, filled to the brim with the ectoplasmic drips. A group of smaller specters ran past the window as another with a thick pair of spectacles looked at the bathysphere. He reacted with one simple sentence.

“Spherical Seacraft Sees Smashed Stormalong.”

Finally, with everything flying through his mind and the full majesty of the town surrounding him, Scratch managed to force out a single question.

“H-How d-d-did th-this h-h-happen?”

“It was just a few years after K’nuckles was kicked out,” Larry explained, “Some big yellow sea monster caught us off-guard. Destroyed the whole town.”

“Y-Y-You mean a-a-a sea m-monster l-l-like th-that?” Scratch asked, pointing out the window.

Larry and K’nuckles both glanced out into the deep dark, and saw a brownish bulbous mass floating above the ruins.

A single glowing red eye met theirs.

The other ghosts noticed, and retreated into their homes, right before the tentacled sea monster charged at the bathysphere, a chorus of screams echoing from within.

~~~~~~~~~~

“...And you just plug the sensor in there,” Darryl explained, “You wanna put it under the monitor, or moving the Theemote around’ll feel weird.”

He dropped the yellowing controller into June’s hands.

“That is an interesting controller,” She said, inspecting the Theemote, “But I don’t see how this is going to improve the Phantom Canister.”

“Trust me girl, a quick gaming sesh always gets the synapses flowin’!”

He flipped on the console, and helped June select the only game he ever felt the need to play on this retro device, Box-In. It was the only game he had for the Nintari Thee that required any skill at all, but still.

However, just as the title screen finished loading, the door to his room burst open.

Darryl and June let out small, terrified shouts as someone threw an unconscious, snoring figure into the room, and slammed the door behind him, panting with a mortified expression glued to his face.

It became clear to the both of them that something had just happened to Oliver Chen.

“So… So many… All those people…” He muttered between breaths.

“Huh? Ollie, what are you doing here?” June asked.

Ollie looked around the room, and seemed to realize he was in the wrong one.

“O-Oh, sorry June, Darryl, have either of you seen Molly around?”

Darryl and June shared a glance. While June’s was a repeat of her brother’s question, Darryl’s look of genuine concern and mild irritation was more than enough to answer her. She turned her attention back to the game, and he took an extra second to answer.

“She’s out with some kinda replacement Scratch.”

“Really?” Ollie asked, “I didn’t think she was serious… What does he look like?”

“I dunno, a pirate? I think his name was FratCrack-”

“ FLAPJACK! ”

The snoring figure snapped to attention, revealing herself to be a panicking Libby with serious bags under her eyes.

“The- That pirate ghost!” She shouted, “I-I-I gotta get back to my research! I’m… How did I get here?”

Libby looked around the room, finding Ollie, June, and Darryl staring at her. Slowly, her mind began to piece a few things together. The previous day’s research, the long night, the exact moment reality began to blur, among a few other things. Like a mysterious bruise on her shoulder, as if she had rammed into a solid block of metal.

One of these foggy memories stood out to her. A request.

“Um, sorry for making you drag me halfway across town, Ollie,” She said.

“Anything for a friend,” Ollie said, “But please don’t ever ask me to do that ever again. Ever.”

No one had to ask why.

“So Molly’s not here?” Libby asked.

“Nah,” Darryl responded.

Libby scratched her arm, and let out a small involuntary noise. She couldn’t get her mind off of her best friend’s safety, off of the potential danger the ancient pirate ‘captain’ posed, off of the comparison to Ezikiel Tugbottom, off of the-

“Uh, Libby are you ok?”

Libby was flung back to reality. Darryl, Ollie, and June were looking at her like she had… Just said all that out loud, in one way or another.

“Oh, um, sorry, it’s just-”

“No, no, it’s fine, we’re all a little worried,” Ollie said.

“Here, focus on something else for a bit. It actually works,” June added, handing over the controller.

“Yeah, you clearly need this sesh more than we do,” Darryl finished.

Hesitantly, Libby took the Theemote in her hands, and sat down. The others sat behind her, and watched.

In the few minutes she had the controller, June had already defeated the entire Minor Circuit. Before Libby stood Sparkplug Toyot, a Japanese boxer with terrifying speed, enough to spike anyone’s anxieties. Especially someone already on edge.

With a twitch of his eyebrow, he threw a punch. Libby’s heart jumped, and she dodged. Too early. The punch landed. Her heart raced. Already the fight seemed impossible. But then, her opponent did something unexpected.

He bowed.

Sure, it was a cultural symbol. Sure, it was probably a sign of great respect. Sure, what she did next was probably incredibly disrespectful. But nonetheless, her adrenaline-fueled instinct punched him in the face.

He flew back, and she received a single star. Despite having no idea what it was supposed to do, she got the message clear enough. However powerful this guy seemed, he was by no means unbeatable.

With her friends cheering behind her, she took a deep breath, and focused her anxieties, what little she could, onto the game. With great effort, she fought the imposing boxer. It was an ugly match, the two seeming equals in combat. At least until he took a step back.

Libby had figured out his patterns. His weaknesses. His tells. Even if this was different, his reaction shouldn’t be.

He hopped left. Then right. Then charged forward.

Libby held her breath, closed her eyes, and threw a single punch.

When she opened them, her friends were cheering behind her, and her opponent had stumbled backwards. TKO.

In a new, imposing, and downright terrifying situation, she had managed to pull herself together and stopped her opponent. Granted, it was digital, but the mental part was real. It was all she really needed…

Regardless of how short lived it was, thanks to a sudden, rhythmic beeping.

“Huh,” June muttered, now staring at one of her ghost-hunting devices, “The Brighton river doesn’t usually have paranormal activity like this…”

“Paranormal activity?” Ollie said, “Let me see!”

He pulled the device from her hands, and his pupils widened.

“This. Is. Huge! We’ve gotta go see what it is!”

“Hold on, did you say the Brighton river?” Darryl asked.

“Yeah, why?” June asked.

“Ok, so I may or may not have heard Molly shout that really early this morning. Like, way too early-”

“ What?! ” Libby shouted, her anxieties coming back full-force, “You knew exactly where she was going this whole time?!”

“She shouts a lotta things early in the morning.”

“Well…” Libby sighed, “Can’t argue with that.”

“But Molly’s still in danger!” Ollie shouted, “June, you’ve got our Boo Blasters and the Phantom Canister with you, right?”

“Of course,” June responded, “But I don’t think the Phantom Canister can hold more than one ghost on its own-”

“That’s fine, we’re only gonna use it as a last resort! Everyone ready?!”

“Oh, you know I’m ready!”

“Um, yes! The call to action waits for no woman!”

“I don’t think so…”

“That’s good enough for me,” Ollie said, “Ghost Friends, let’s move out!”

While Libby felt she could pull off the line better, now was not the time to critique a cheesy delivery. The four of them rushed out the door, hoping to find some way of rescuing Molly from this spectral anomaly.

And failing to notice the dark, shadowy one following them from the air after they left the house.

Chapter Text

The brownish tentacled mass charged towards the bathysphere, and when Captain K’nuckles laid eyes on it, he shouted out the beast’s name in terror.

“ Eight-Armed Willy!! ”

And as Scratch and Peppermint Larry joined in the chorus of screams, the kraken latched himself onto the spherical vessel, and pulled it up and away from the ruins of Stormalong.

~~  ~~

Adia sat alone on the bridge of her ship, watching an outdated computer screen render a monochrome map of the sea floor. She knew Scratch too well, and knew just enough about K’nuckles to know that neither of them were likely to get her pictures. Installing a sonar system on the bathysphere was the next best thing.

It may have worked far better than a camera anyway, thanks to the light levels down there. She chuckled to herself as the distinct shape of a barrel rendered before her. It was undoubtedly the Candy Barrel, the legendary pub mentioned in countless accounts from the time. An area Scratch decided not to research.

More and more of the destroyed port town rendered before her, and her excitement grew alongside it. This was the historical discovery of the century! The ruins of Stormalong, the existence of which could prove the existence of many nautical myths of its era! They had already encountered the Flapjacks of Maple Syrup Island, who knows what else could be lurking out there?

Unfortunately, Adia would have her questions answered when a strange blobby anomaly rendered on her screen. It wasn’t attached to any form of support, but that could very well be behind the anomaly, outside of the Sonar’s range. However, as the screen rendered the next image, the anomaly grew closer, and Adia jumped.

It resembled some form of giant octopus, with strange gaps and a shape resembling a small schooner dotting its head. Before the next image could render, the entire ship shook. In a panic, Adia ran out to the deck, noting the suddenly taught tow cable.

She rushed to reel them back up, only for the line to slack. Before she could react to the new situation, something burst from the ocean, flew over her head, and crashed into the same hole K’nuckles had crashed into a week before. A small spout of water began to fly up from underneath the object, its circular shape, cracked, foggy glass, and screaming passengers clearing up its identity.

All for the better, as the squid-like anomaly burst forth after it.

Its bloated head dwarfed her vessel, each disgusting wart and lump on its wet, salty face reflecting the sunlight back at her. A series of swollen, stitched scars lined its head, all branching out of the aforementioned schooner, itself resting in a deep, pulsing wound. The monster’s lone eye opened, the pale red of its iris piercing Adia’s very soul, leaving her frozen in fear. 

As if trying to get a better look, it raised a tentacle, shifting its pitch black eyepatch and revealing a pale, dead eyeball, through which the boat was reflected back at Adia. Its rage grew, a pair of swollen purple lips opening to reveal rows upon rows of jagged yellow teeth, the stench of a waterlogged corpse wafting from its mouth.

It let out a roar, and its remaining tentacles arose from the depths alongside it, each one slamming onto the deck of the ship. Even in her panic, Adia could tell what it was trying to do.

It wanted them dead, and she wasn’t having it.

Grabbing the boat’s harpoon off the ground, she aimed at the cracked glass of the Bathysphere, and threw it. When the glass shattered, the passengers within fell forward. K’nuckles creaked upright, in an obvious panic.

“ Run!! Sea monster!! ” He screeched.

“What the heck are we supposed to do!!” Scratch screamed.

“I don’t know! We’re doomed!” Some weird, floating, purple… thing cried.

Before Adia could ask just what the heck was stowing away on her ship, a tentacle smashed onto the deck between them, cracking through the ship. It stopped halfway in, before pulling itself out, the metal hull cracking under its sheer power. 

“ We’re doomed? Aren’t you already dead?” Scratch asked.

“You don’t get it! Eight-Armed Willy-”

“We don’t have time to explain things!” Adia shouted, interrupting the purple thing, “Now listen up, this ship has one lifeboat! I need both- I mean, all three of you to get there ASAP! Scratch, lead the way!”

Another tentacle came hurtling in. Adia jumped over it, as the others ducked. Willy roared, his anger and his breath more potent than ever.

“How are we supposed to reach the lifeboat with that thing after us?” Scratch asked.

“Don’t worry, I think I can deal with an overgrown cephalopod,” She said.

“What?! You can’t just fight Eight-Armed Willy!” K’nuckles said, “Only the greatest adventurer in the world has ever battled against Eight-Armed Willy and lived to tell the tale.”

With that, K’nuckles climbed onto the rubble, standing firm next to Adia. Unfortunately, just as he caught his balance, a tentacle slammed into him, pulling him, shrieking, into the air.

“I hate to admit it, but K’nuckles is right,” The purple thing said, “Ghosts who have been caught in one of his rampages have disappeared, never to be seen again.”

“Shut up Larry!!” K’nuckles yelled, “I’m not a ghost! Please don’t let him kill me!!”

“Sorry captain, you’re on your own,” Larry said, shrugging.

Adia stared in disbelief at the strange purple spirit. Ghosts were real, and she had proof floating right in front of her! If she hadn’t already encountered so many strange things recently, this would be so much more exciting! 

Now though, she had an octopus to beat. She shook the ghost out of her head, and raised her arms just in time to block a jab from one of the tentacles. It still sent her flying back into Scratch, who just barely managed to catch her.

“Adia-!”

“Scratch, not now,” Adia interrupted, “I really need you to get the lifeboat ready. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”

“A plan? For that monster?” He asked, “We don’t have anything…”

Scratch trailed off as another tentacle smashed down next to him. He seemed to finally realize what one thing they had that would be perfect for restraining a Kraken of this magnitude.

“Ohhhhh, we’re going to… Tie him up?”

“Pretty much. Or at least enough to get our pirate back.”

“This makes so much more sense than a fistfight,” Scratch muttered.

“Well, if you two have this all under control, I think I’ll be going,” Larry chuckled, sweating a bit, “Sea Salt Wife doesn’t like me staying out this long-”

“Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere yet,” Scratch said, grabbing Larry’s arm, “I don’t even know how I’m doing this. You’ve got some explaining to do, ghost.”

Larry tried pulling away, but somehow couldn’t. It was yet another revolutionary find about ghosts, overshadowed by the rapid sinking of their ship and the screaming Kraken on board.

“Unng… Fine.”

With that, Scratch dragged Larry off to find the front of the ship, where the lifeboat waited.

Adia turned back to Eight-Armed Willy. He looked even angrier than before, shaking K’nuckles around with an unmatched vigor. She could see the tool she needed on the other end of the ship, two of the creature’s arms wrapped around it, keeping it still. To her relief, enough of it was still attached to the bathysphere for her plan to work.

She grabbed the cable from the top of the sphere, and charged forward.

He spotted her.

Two of his tentacles dropped down above her. She managed to dodge under just in time, and jumped back over them, the line trailing behind her. A third tentacle fell in front of her, splintering the deck of the ship as it landed. She slid under it, and hopped back over.

Two more tentacles approached from overhead. She pulled the same maneuver, before running through a gap in the lines. With a single tug, all five tentacles slapped together, tangled in a mess of metal and squid.

And that’s when something sort of shocking happened.

“ Ow! Hey, what gives? ”

Adia did a double take. It sounded like it was coming from…

“ Hey, up here. ”

Adia looked up, into the face of Eight-Armed Willy.

“You can talk?” Adia asked.

“ Of course I can talk. What, do you think us sea monsters just float around for your amusement? ”

“W-Well, of course not, it’s just, you were attacking us?”

“ I was doing my job. Keeping Stormalong Harbor secret AND miserable. ”

“Secret? Miserable?! Who told you to do that?”

“ The Chairman. ”

The name rang no bells.

“Um, ok, who?”

But before she could get her answer, the Kraken tossed K’nuckles at her, before diving back into the depths of the ocean, the line trailing behind him. The captain landed at her feet, the terror of the situation having knocked him unconscious again. However, Adia’s mind was elsewhere.

Why would anyone want to keep Stormalong secret? Why would anyone want to keep it miserable? Just who the heck is the Chairman?

However, as the questions built up in her mind, the line drew further and further down, until only a single tug could render it taught. 

The ship shook. 

She snapped back, her eyes locking on the line. It was pulling the entire vessel into the water, and fast. A surge of adrenaline rushed through her body, and in an instant, she had K’nuckles slung over her shoulder.

She ran across the crumbling ship, vaulting over jutting sheets of metal and sliding through jetting puddles of water, before reaching the front of the ship.

It wasn’t until she looked down at the tiny lifeboat did she remember the actual size of the original ship. It couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven times this size. It remained in the back of her mind as she dropped K’nuckles in, startling Scratch and Larry, before jumping in herself.

In a panic, Scratch grabbed one of the lines tying it to the ship. Adia grabbed the other. They untied them in sync, releasing themselves from their original vessel just as they touched the water.

A moment later, their boat was gone.

Adia slumped back in the small wooden boat, and let out a sigh of relief. Scratch did the same. K’nuckles just started snoring. Larry took one look at him and burst into uncontrollable tears.

“I can’t believe we survived a Kraken…” Scratch muttered.

“I know right,” Adia said, chuckling a bit, “We survived the Kraken. Too bad we lost all our research.”

“Oh, not quite, Adia,” Scratch said with a smirk, “I think you’ll find these quite useful.”

He pulled a bunch of photographs out of his pocket, and handed them to Adia. All of them were of the ruins of Stormalong Harbor, the dark depths, strange wildlife, rotting wooden structures, and strange colorful blobs that were undeniably ghosts, captured in their full glory. Adia couldn’t help but gasp.

“Scratch, these are amazing! I knew you’d pull through!”

Scratch laughed to himself.

“Yeah, that’s cool and all, but…” Scratch paused, “I think we’re gonna need a new boat.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The licks of yellow flame surged forward. In that one short moment, Molly McGee saw her entire life in Brighton flash before her. It was remarkably short, despite the sheer number of people she had managed to enhappify.

She ducked, almost out of instinct, and hoped that if the flames hit her, she would at least get the chance to see Scratch again. As a ghost, of course-

“ Molly!! ”

Before she could react, she felt someone shove her out of the way, the flames singing her hair as she flew off to the side. She felt the grass beneath her legs, the distant heat of the fire, and a pair of familiar arms wrapped around her.

“Are you ok, Molly?”

She looked up, into the face of Ollie Chen, the raging blaze perfectly illuminating his adorable swoopy bangs.

“Uh, I-I think-”

Before she could finish, the beast roared, grabbing their attention. He opened his jaws, a yellow flame boiling between them, only for a small green ball to fly into it, gumming it up and snuffing the flame. He choked, giving Ollie enough time to grab Molly’s hand and pull her to the shot’s origin.

To June, her Boo Blaster aimed at the monster, Libby and Darryl right behind her.

“Nice! Right in the throat!” Darryl exclaimed.

“It really was nothing,” June said, “We practice way too much with these.”

“C’mon, I don’t think I could ever hit that shot. Do it again!”

“Wait, wait, please don’t hurt him!” Molly said, a hint of desperation in her voice, “He wasn’t like this a minute ago! Also, how did you all get here?”

“Molly’s right!” Ollie said, “This ghost needs our help, so we’re gonna give him all the help we can! Oh, and your mom gave us a ride. Don’t worry, she doesn’t know about the rampaging specter.”

“Oh.”

“Huh… To help a ghost like this, we might need to restrain him,” June said.

Darryl looked around the river, his eyes landing on all the scattered construction equipment. That mischievous smile overtook his face when he finally noticed the crane.

“I think I’ve got just the thing,” He said, “C’mon June, let’s catch a monster!”

Before their older siblings could stop them, they had already run off. Molly groaned. Now her brother was involved, which usually spelt disaster. At least June was here to keep him in check… Then Molly noticed something else.

Darryl and June were blocking her view of Libby, who stared into the struggling beast’s eyes with a terror she hadn’t seen since Scratch first revealed himself to her. She was sputtering something about scales and boiling water under her breath.

“Woah, what’s up with her?” Molly asked.

“I don’t know, she’s been like that since we got here,” Ollie said.

The beast coughed up the green goo, and the flame in its throat blazed once more.

“I’ll buy you some time!” Ollie said, running off and firing at the beast, “Figure out what she’s trying to say!”

Molly turned to Libby, who’s eyes remained locked on the chartreuse serpent.

“Heeyyy Libby,” Molly started, trying to quell her own terror as the world, and probably Ollie, burned behind her, “Been a while, sorry I left you behind back-”

“Th-Th-That’s… The fins… A-A-And the fire…”

“Ok, this is torturous.”

Molly grabbed Libby by the shoulders. She jumped, her attention now squarely on Molly.

“Libby, I know this is utterly terrifying, but we kinda need you right now!”

“ Why?! There’s nothing I can do about the actual Leviathan!! ”

“The what now?”

“ The most terrifying sea monster in Jewish legend!! It can make the oceans boil with its breath, it’s said to summon horrible storms, it’s bigger than anything else on the planet, it swallows whales whole, and its scales are impenetrable!! ”

“Woah, woah, calm down,” Molly said, shaking Libby a bit, “Flapjack can’t be the actual Leviathan, I’m pretty sure that existed long before him.”

“ That’s Flapjack?! ” Libby shouted, “I knew he was dangerous! I’m gonna give him a piece of my-”

“No, wait, he’s not supposed to be like this! It happened when he touched the water! Maybe if we get him out, it’ll change him back?”

Libby stopped. She looked over the creature that was now snapping at Ollie, trying to swallow him whole as he screamed bloody murder. He hadn’t left the river, his tail still flowing all the way back.

“Well, there is something we could try,” Libby muttered.

On cue, Molly’s phone rang. She pulled it out. It was from Darryl. Of course, she answered.

“Hey Mol,” He said, “This crane is pretty dope, you should totally get up here!”

“Darryl, now is a terrible-”

“That’s perfect!” Libby shouted, interrupting Molly, “Can you get it positioned a little closer?”

“Uh, I think so?” His voice muffled, “Hey June, you know how to operate this thing?”

A second later, the crane overlooking the river turned, drawing closer until its hook was hovering right in front of Libby and Molly.

“All right, got it,” Darryl said, “What you got next?”

Libby hesitated for a moment, before climbing onto the crane’s hook.

“I know this might be a crazy idea,” She explained, “But if we fish for him-”

“What? You can’t just use yourself as bait!” Molly exclaimed, “What if you don’t-”

“Molly, I don’t know what else to do!” Libby snapped, “If we don’t do something soon, he could get Ollie, or you! He’s a lot smaller than the real thing, so… We should be able to get him out of the water.”

Molly was speechless. She couldn’t lose her best friend today, not again, and especially not to a new friend. She heard Libby shout for Darryl, and watched as the hook began to rise.

Something stirred within her.

Without thinking, she had jumped onto the hook alongside Libby.

“What are you doing?!” Libby exclaimed.

“Just paying a bit more attention to my best friend,” Molly replied, “Now, let’s go catch a ghost pirate!”

Libby’s eyes watered. A smile grew on her face as they rose into the air, the crane positioning itself above the Leviathan. Ollie must’ve seen the hook, because he fired a shot at it, drawing the monster’s attention towards it. He swam towards them, splashing Ollie with a huge wave of disgusting water.

“Alright Libby, on my signal, we jump.”

“Onto the Leviathan’s back?”

“And we’ll slide right into the river.”

“That’ll take a while to wash off.”

“We’ll be fine. I think.”

His golden fins slapped at the water, sending him flying towards the hook. Molly shifted her feet as the beast opened his mouth, ready to destroy the both of them.

“Alright… Now!” Molly shouted.

The two of them jumped. Molly landed on the monster’s back, bumped its head and, contrary to her plan, quickly tumbled into the river below. She recovered as fast as possible, looking around her for any sign of Libby. There was none. She looked up, and gasped in horror.

Libby’s sweater had gotten caught on the crane, the Leviathan’s jaws surrounding her as she screamed out. It looked to be over for her.

But, just before the beast’s jaws closed, a black shadow flew between them, and pulled Libby to the ground. They landed with a loud thud as his jaws snapped shut. The crane began to pull the serpent into the air, dragging his lengthy tail behind it.

As he was drawn further and further from the water, he shrank, his features withering and shifting until he had the unmistakable shape of the ghost Molly had met mere days prior. Soon, his mouth became too small to hold the hook, and he fell to the ground, landing next to Libby with a sickening splat.

For a split second, time stood still. Then, she panicked.

Molly’s heart raced as she swam back to shore. Neither of her friends had gotten up. What if something irreversible had happened to them? What if they never get up? What if…

No, she was Molly McGee. She couldn’t lose hope now.

Ollie was already by their side when she reached them. They were both lying on a familiar-looking black cloth. Flapjack seemed fine, though he was asleep. Libby was stunned, but otherwise awake. Molly let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey Libby, are you ok?” Molly asked.

“I think my heart stopped…” Libby managed to squeak out.

“Aw, you’ll be fine,” Molly said, chuckling a bit.

“What saved you?” Ollie asked.

“I-I-I think it was the robes.”

Wait, it couldn’t be…

Libby, shaking, pushed herself off the cloth, and stepped back. With half of its body now freed, the cloth wrapped itself around Flapjack in a tight hug. He smiled, and opened his eyes.

“Oh, hey there,” He said, “What’s your name, friend?”

“No. Way,” Molly said, “The Chairman Robes?”

“Chairman Robes, huh?” Flapjack said, “Do you happen to know how I got here?”

The robes didn’t respond, only tightening their grip around the poor sailor. He only giggled.

“Hey! That tickles!”

Libby’s mood turned.

“Hey! Get up, you salty swindler!”

“Um, should I-”

“Don’t worry Ollie, I’ll deal with this,” Molly said, giving him a quick hug, “Besides, I think someone needs to go check on June and Darryl.”

Ollie nodded, and left. Molly turned back to Libby and Flapjack to find the former trying to pull the latter, who was rolling in the grass laughing, out of the robes. Molly groaned, and stepped between them.

“Libby, don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Molly said, pulling Flapjack into a steady hover, “Flapjack, are you ok? Did… Did you remember anything?”

Flapjack’s giggling slowed down.

“Well, I guess I feel a little weird, and I don’t know where this guy came from…” He paused, pressing his hands against his head and scrunching his face, “Hmm… No. No memories.”

“You mean all that was for nothing?” Molly asked, “Ok, keep it cool Molly… Everything’s fine-”

“Everything’s fine?!” Libby snapped, “He just tried to kill us!”

“I did wha?”

“He didn’t mean it! I-I think,” Molly said, trailing off.

“We don’t even know!” Libby exclaimed, “We can’t even trust him to tell us if he was a captain or not!”

“Pfft, I was a captain,” Flapjack said, “I mean, look at my hat!”

It had changed once again, this time into a more traditional pirate hat, complete with a skull and feather.

“You couldn’t have been captain,” Libby explained, “You died when you were thirteen!”

Flapjack stopped, stunned. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Huh? What do you mean, friend-”

“We aren’t friends, trickster,” Libby replied, “You lied about Candied Island, you lied about being a captain, and now you pretend you didn’t just try to kill us? I can’t believe the robes chose you. ”

She stomped off, leaving Flapjack’s sadness to turn to anger.

“O-Oh yeah, well, I never wanted to be your friend anyway!” He yelled, “And I’ll have you know Robes is a better friend than you will ever be!”

Flapjack wrapped the robes tighter around himself, and floated away in the direction of Molly’s house.

“Wait, guys, come back,” Molly said, “We can sort this out!”

It was too late. The two of them were already out of earshot.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Molly whispered, “I swear to you, turtle girl and fish boy, when I’m done with you, you’ll be friends… The best of friends… And I think I know just how to pull this off.”

Chapter Text

After pulling Darryl and June out of their temporary crane rampage, Molly and Ollie led them back to her parent’s car, sitting just out of sight of the river. She opened the car door, slumping down in her chair as the excitement, physical exertion, and complete lack of sleep finally caught up with her. Even so, it wasn’t until the others had all taken their seats that she noticed just how ragged they looked.

Her parents looked back at them, and did a double-take as they took in the distressing image.

“Um, Molly, is everything alright?” Her dad asked.

“Huh- Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” She replied, her tone a bit more groggy than she intended.

“Right,” Her mom added, “And Libby?”

Molly barely registered the question. Even if she could, she was too worried about Libby and Flapjack to respond. Ollie gave her a worried glance. She must’ve looked more tired than she thought.

“She’s walking home,” Ollie said, “That ghost might’ve taken a bit out of her.”

Molly gave him a thankful glance, and closed her eyes. However, before she could take a nap in the car, her mom had one last thing to say.

“Well, I hope she’ll be alright. We can talk about the fact that this was a ghost later.”

Molly snapped to attention, as Ollie’s hand flew over his mouth.

“And once again, Ollie fails the deception check,” Darryl says.

“I wouldn’t say ‘failed’,” June said, “I’ve certainly seen him do worse.”

“Maybe we’ll have to have a talk with all of you. But right now, uh, Libby left her coat in here. Molly,” Her dad said, handing her the crumpled duster, “We’ll make sure to return it the next time we see her.”

Molly examined the coat, her eyes glued to it. It was an impossibly perfect variable, the kind of thing you only see in cheesy romance films. The exact inciting incident she needed to pull this one off.

Molly’s face contorted into a scheming grin. It was her best plan yet.

~~  ~~

That night, Flapjack floated into his new home, the home of his new best friend Molly, and now home to his newest friend, Robes. He phased through the wall, gooey tears sliding down his ectoplasmic face. As he approached the tiny dollhouse in the middle of the room, he slung the robes over his face.

He couldn’t bother her with another breakdown, especially at this hour. At least, that’s what he thought, before she jumped out from behind her corkboard, startling him.

“AH-!”

She slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Shhh,” She whispered, a crazed grin on her face, “We don’t need anyone waking up just yet.”

She slowly lowered her hand. Flapjack took a moment to wipe the tears from his face, and looked around. The room was an even bigger mess than it was that morning. A woolen web of threads spread out across pictures of him, Molly, all her friends, a whole bunch of seemingly random locations around town, and far more the ghost didn’t recognize.

“What’s going on here?” Flapjack asked.

“That’s the funny thing about us, Flap,” Molly said, her eyes drifting apart, “You and I, we think veeeeerrry alike. So, if you and Libby aren’t friends, what does that say?”

“Uh-”

“ It puts all of us at risk! ” Molly snapped, still quietly.

“Eep-”

“Shh. I have a plan, you just have to trust me.”

“Um… Ok.”

Molly chuckled to herself, her eyes drooping further as she rummaged around her room. After a moment, she fell upon a single light green thread, and followed it to a dirty, crumpled coat in the corner of her room.

“You get this to Libby, and you get the heck out of there,” She said, still chuckling, “That’s the start at least… I can’t really remember the rest… Darryl knows… he loves that… game…”

Before Flap could ask any questions, she collapsed on her bed, passing out in an instant.

For a moment, he pondered waking her up, asking a few questions, clearing up the supposed plan. Then he paused. He had every opportunity to take some creative liberties, to pull some… Harmless pranks. He giggled to himself, a vague echo of someone he once cared about playing in his head.

‘ A true adventurer wouldn’t let this happen. He’d get revenge. ’

~~  ~~

Libby awoke the next morning, her face pressed against another old book. This time it was something about old sea monster sightings. After their last battle against that horrid imp, she couldn’t be too careful.

Just the thought of him filled her with an uncontrollable hatred, her fingers digging visible dents into her wooden desk. She pushed herself up, only for something familiar to brush against her head.

She jumped, and spun around, only to be greeted by her duster, hanging from the ceiling, a note taped to it. Ever inquisitive, if a bit suspicious, she plucked the note from its place, and read it.

“Dear Libby, we found this by the river. I returned it last night, but… You were already asleep and I didn’t want to wake you up? Best of luck… Friend. Love… F?”

F? Who the heck was F? One thing was certain. It couldn’t be Molly. Not only was the handwriting far too messy to belong to her best friend, but if it really was Molly’s note, after the fight she had with Flapjack, it would be much longer, and far more cryptic. Not that anyone could get into her bunker without her knowing. Without her opening the door from the inside.

No human, at least.

Despite her suspicions, or perhaps because of them, she pulled her coat from the ceiling. With each passing day, it was becoming more and more obvious that Flapjack was going to require a more direct approach than Libby was used to. It was a terrifying prospect, something which made her hands shake with anticipation. She ignored it. Whatever had to be done to keep her friends, her only real friends, safe, she would do it.

As she slipped the coat on, however, something cold and wet squished against her sweater.

She pulled back one of the sleeves.

Shaving cream.

The ghoul had made the first move, and his first mistake.

~~  ~~

Molly hopped out of bed the next morning at the sound of her alarm, feeling rested and ready for another fantastic day in Brighton! Preparing at an incredible pace despite the tangled plans in her room, she soon found herself sprinting downstairs, and running past the living room.

She stopped. She’d caught a glimpse of something… Strange. Someone up before her, watching that Comeback Stick channel. It was playing some ridiculous old cartoon about a horrible pirate-looking guy and some kid that followed him around. Molly never quite liked that show, but if the distinct giggling was any indication, at least Flapjack was enjoying it.

She walked up to the couch, and sat down next to the captain. She averted her eyes as best she could before addressing him.

“Good morning Flap! Are you ready to put our totally perfect plan, which for the record was not at all inspired by old romantic comedies, into action?”

“Oh, the plan? You don’t hafta worry about that,” Flapjack sang, “It all worked out.”

“Really!” Molly exclaimed, “So does this mean you and Libby are friends now? C’mon, tell me, tell me, tell me!”

Flapjack’s grin was slowly tainted by what looked like dread.

“Uh, We’ll be… Seeing each other more?”

That was a… Concerning response, to say the least. But before Molly could ask any more questions, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, th-that must be her!” Flapjack said, “I’ll, um, I’ll go get the door!”

He flew out of his seat, blowing both it and Molly backwards.

“ Ah- Flapjack, wait!! ” Molly exclaimed, scrambling to follow him.

As she drew closer to the door, however, she heard the front door creak. She took cover near a corner, and listened in on Flap’s one-sided conversation.

“A box? Weird. Who’d leave such a nice old box out here?”

She heard a shift, and a rattle.

“Oh my gosh, it’s for me,” Flapjack continued, “Let’s see… ‘Dear Flapjack, you are truly a great and noble captain, one for which the history books shall have to be rewritten.’ Wow, I didn’t know I was that great of an adventurer! Huh, there’s more… ‘For your marvelous exploits, I present this gift. It’s a compass! May it serve you well! Love, your new best friend!’ My new best friend! This gift has to be amazing! I can’t wait to see what’s inside!”

Molly heard a tear, followed immediately by an explosion.

A small puff of greenish glitter flew past her hiding spot. A moment later, one final sentence from Flapjack threw a massive wrench into Molly’s plans.

“‘Thanks for the coat… Formally, Libby…’ Aw, cannonballs.”

~~  ~~

There it was. Book Marks the Spot, standing proud on the side of the road, Libby visible on the inside. She seemed to be picking up books on naval warships and what looked to be a dvd of some old sci-fi epic. She couldn’t have been more than twelve seconds from the front door, and she was in much higher spirits than anticipated.

Molly lowered her binoculars, squinting at the location with a renewed determination. She would make this plan work, one way or another.

“Alright Flapjack, the coast is clear.”

The ghost in question was floating next to her, invisible save for a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He held it close, but refused to look at it. In fact, he seemed distracted by the wriggling contents of a nearby dumpster.

“Flapjack? Uh, Flapjack?”

“Huh? Oh, right, Libby,” He said, “I-I don’t think the flowers will be enough. What if she still hates me?”

“It’s not about the flowers, buddy, it’s about what they represent or something. Just, don’t worry, she’s a writer, she’ll get it!”

She shoved Flapjack forward. His body regained its golden hue as he approached the front door, stopped, looked back for a split second with a scary confidence in his eyes, and knocked.

From the window, Libby looked up from her book, puzzled. In twelve agonizing seconds, she walked to the front door, and opened it.

Upon seeing Flapjack, all the joy drained from her face. She sent a single, disappointed glance in Molly’s direction, but there was no way she could’ve seen her. Flapjack drew Libby’s attention back.

Molly continued watching from the bushes, her heart racing as her plan began to piece itself together. With a reluctant hand, Libby took the flowers, thanked Flapjack, and quietly closed the door in his face. Flapjack turned and floated back, giggling the whole way.

“Yes! Another win for Molly McGee!” She exclaimed.

She stepped out of the bushes just as Flapjack returned to her side of the road.

“Looks like it went well, Flap,” She said, “I told you I had a plan.”

Flapjack didn’t respond. In fact, he couldn’t. His giggles had transformed into a continuous manic laugh, and he fell to the floor. Molly let out a slight nervous chuckle.

“Um, ok, it wasn’t that funn-”

“ AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!!! ”

Molly snapped to face the scream. Through the window, she could see Libby, writhing around in her chair. Molly grabbed her binoculars, and checked on her friend.

She was covered from head to toe in cockroaches! Hairy, crunchy, disgusting cockroaches marched forth from the flowers, each one avoiding her attacks against them with perfect precision.

Molly hissed.

“Ooh, that’s gonna set us back… Sh-She’ll be fine, right?”

Flapjack didn’t answer. Apparently cockroaches were hilarious.

~~  ~~

“You listen to me Libby, this is just like when you and Scratch-”

“This is nothing like me and Scratch! Scratch didn’t try to kill us! ” Libby snapped, interrupting Molly.

“Aw, come on, give him a chance!”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Molly, no.”

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

“ Fine. I’ll take this… Box of candy to him.”

“Thank you! You’re the best, Libster!”

Libby let out a sigh as Molly hopped into the bushes, grabbing her binoculars so she could observe the next step in her plan. With a groan, Libby started walking. In one hand, Libby held the aforementioned box. In the other, she pressed ‘record’ on her tape recorder.

“Wednesday, four thirty-five PM,” Libby whispered, checking to make sure Molly couldn’t hear her, “Elimination attempt two of paranormal entity three-sixteen is currently underway.”

She shoved the tape recorder in her pocket, and kept walking. The door ahead was Molly’s own, though alerting her parents to this specific prank wouldn’t be necessary. Not with the target lying on the front lawn, talking to what appeared to be a flea-ridden rat.

As she made her approach, her legs locked up. She found it harder and harder to push forward, dread building in her stomach. The pirate could be far smarter than he let on, there could be so many small details she’d missed, and with him now having access to the Chairman Robes, the contents of her wildest nightmares could haunt her for eternity if she wasn’t careful. Still, she managed to make it to the ghost.

He turned, greeting her with an uncharacteristic, unenthused expression.

“Oh. Hello Libby,” He said, turning back to the rat, “No, don’t worry about her. She’s got nothing to say to us.”

It took every shred of Libby’s willpower to keep herself from snapping at the ‘captain.’

“Actually, I have come to… Apologize,” Libby said, her voice robotic, “I did not have a good reason to yell at you and I am sorry.”

He seemed to regain interest, looking back at her with genuine confusion in his eyes. She held out the box.

“I hope we can be friends,” She finished, wincing at Molly’s horrible lines.

Flapjack’s entire being brightened. He shot up, and grabbed the box.

“I knew you’d come around, friend!”

Libby just nodded, and walked away. She heard the sickening sound of him downing the entire box, and smiled to herself. She pulled out her tape recorder.

“Elimination attempt two has been initiated,” She whispered, “Reaction in three… Two… On-”

“ BLEGH!! Aaa, tis tas lik raw sewge…”

Her mission was complete. Libby made her getaway, disappearing into the bushes behind the Chens’ house, as Molly stared on in disbelief.

“Morning, Molly! Um… Are you spying on your own house?”

That must’ve been Ollie. Libby was too far away by then to check.

~~  ~~

“ ...But we’re in space. How did it happen? What did you do? ”

“ ...We haven’t moved, we’re fixed… It can’t have. No! Survis is still in the same place, but the planet has gone. ”

Libby leaned forward, the Professor What season finale already pulling her in. She had only recently discovered this series, but its overarching mysteries mixed with a near perfect sprinkling of history and the paranormal made for an excellent show, even if sometimes the novelizations were better.

Not even the store bell ringing could break her out. Not even as the hypothetical customer approached her position, the squeaking of a familiar pair of slippers marking his every step.

Not even when the intruder slumped down next to her did she register the fact that Darryl McGee had never, in her entire time knowing him, willingly set foot in a bookstore.

“Wow- Um, I mean- Woah, cool show.”

“I know, right?” Libby said, pausing the episode as her excitement grew, “The Professor is so cool! The way he deals with entire alien threats with his words alone! That’s how I wanna be when I’m older.”

Darryl scoffed a little, but she hardly noticed.

“Doesn’t he fight aliens for real, too?”

“Well, yeah,” She continued, her confidence rising, “But it’s not that often. Just when there’s no other option, when the threat in question is too far gone, or too dangerous for any words to handle, like the Tinled Armadas, or the Reflon Subconscious, or… or that ghost.”

She looked Darryl in the eyes. He seemed shocked, scared, almost… Sad. She could deduce why, of course. It had been haunting her for days.

“Don’t worry, Darryl,” Libby said, “Pretty soon, he’ll be out of your hair.”

Darryl smirked.

“Well I think you’ve got this, um, in the bag!” He said, before turning back to the screen, “You know, it’s funny you mentioned the Tinled. They’re in this episode.”

“Really?” Libby asked, unable to hide her excitement.

“Yup. But that’s not all…”

And in that instant, all of her excitement was replaced with an unmistakable dread.

Spoilers.

“Wait, Darryl-!”

“The Tinled leader, Devus is in here too. He’s pretty cool, but he doesn’t appear until after the Professor dies.”

Libby’s heart sank as he explained more and more, leaving no stone unturned. She tried her best to tune out as much as possible, but it was too late, and he was both too close, and too loud. It didn’t take long for him to finish.

Libby heard a giggle, and her fists clenched.

“Darryl,” She growled, “What was that for?”

“Hey, don’t blame me,” Darryl said, “I wasn’t the only one in on this.”

A second later, a familiar golden ghost slipped out of his body, laughing like a maniac.

“It was my idea too!” Flapjack exclaimed, before rocketing out of the building.

Libby couldn’t even be shocked anymore. This war was only beginning, leaving few survivors in its wake. This particular move, however, left her with one question.

“Darryl, did you actually agree to this?”

“Alright, I know it’s a little cruel,” He explained, “But I’m always down for a good prank, Libs. Besides, I might’ve ‘ripped off’ the Russian mafia yesterday. I needed any excuse to get out of the house.”

This only left her with more questions.

~~  ~~

Despite having known Molly for at least five days, Flapjack was still somewhat unfamiliar with the town of Brighton. Thanks to their recent ‘setbacks,’ she had asked him to do some exploring of his own while she tried coming up with a new strategy. Nothing she could come up with would work at this point, but he could respect that his friend needed space.

He soon found himself wandering the streets, passing by several small business ventures over the course of a few hours, eventually coming across a strange-looking tooth creature standing tall in front of a building.

He jumped when he first saw it, but calmed down upon realizing that it was completely still. In fact, it couldn’t have been anything more than a statue. He giggled to himself.

“What a strange statue,” He said, “I wonder who put it here…”

“ I put myself here! ” The statue boomed, its voice somewhat familiar.

“ AAH! ” Flapjack exclaimed, jumping back again.

“ And I have come to warn you of a great evil! ”

“Wh-What great evil?!”

“ The evils of CANDY!! ”

Candy? That’s the great evil? Flapjack held back a laugh.

“I don’t see how candy could be evil, friend,” He said, “Have you ever tried it?”

“ HAVE YOU?! ” The statue snapped, “ You are a ghost, are you not?! ”

“Um… Yeah?”

“ Candy merely rots the teeth of humans, ” It continued, “ But ghosts, their teeth are made of the same chemical compounds which compose the rest of their bodies. Those which were not careful have rotted from the inside. ”

Flapjack wasn’t sure whether or not to take it seriously, but its grave tone dug into his mind. Candy rot… He’d heard that somewhere before…

But… But he loved candy! What was this… This fear? And why was it so familiar? Why was his love of candy taken so easily? Why did the taste of caramel make him feel like he was drowning? Why did his hat remind him of someone, someone who’s scream of triumph filled him with a deep, nostalgic longing?

He couldn’t feel himself touching the ground anymore. He was swept up in a wave, a wave that took someone away from him. It pulled him away from everyone he cared about. Where was Bubbie when he got back? Who was Bubbie?

Flapjack held his head, shaking back the painful thoughts. The fuzzy dreamlike flashes brought a familiar pain to his soul, a pain he just couldn’t take anymore!

Before he knew it, he was flying away, crying uncontrollably.

A moment later, Libby popped her head out from behind the statue. She never expected such a reaction. A small seed of guilt began to grow within her, but she did her best to ignore it.

It would all be worth it in the end.

~~  ~~

It was midnight.

The whole town was asleep, save for one.

A dark shadow loomed over a sleeping Libby, her face illuminated by a small patch of golden light. Still, she slept peacefully, unaware of its presence.

Above her, standing tall, with a determined scowl on his face and a dark robe pulled over his head, was Flapjack. Before, he had wanted to be her friend. Now, he felt nothing but contempt. It was unfamiliar. Wrong. But the statue… It couldn’t have been anyone else.

She had forced out a fear he had long since forgotten. A fear he never wanted to remember.

It was only fair that he return the favor.

Raising his arms, the room around him began to warp, the golden glow turning a sickly green as bugs crawled forth from the walls. The ground shook and the sky darkened, each star snuffed out. In a moment, he could feel the robes’ powers coursing through his ectoplasmic body, a body which suddenly felt like an error in the universe, like it was never meant to hold such a power.

What came next was out of his control.

“ Libby, my first enemy-

May you never rest peacefully-

For your fears and sorrows, till the eve of war-

Shall haunt you to your very core! ”

In an instant, the room returned to normal.

All except one small part.

Libby tossed in her sleep, her eyes squeezed shut. Her teeth ground together, the rough scraping audible from across the room. Flapjack wasn’t sure what to think of it. Sure, he was getting back at her. Sure, this had gone on for a few days now. Sure, she was being a big meanie before, but maybe this was too far…

“No…” Libby muttered.

Flapjack was pulled back to reality, as she continued.

“Molly… I’m sorry… I was just trying to help… I didn’t mean to… Please… “

No… This was too far. There had to be something he could do…

Just then, a tiny flash of memory returned to him, and he smiled. Raising a hand, he spoke-

“ And may you be accompanied by the friendly manticore! ”

Her face relaxed, if only a bit.

A moment later, he was gone.

Chapter Text

The ship had sunk only a few hours before, all of which were spent trying to retrieve a decent map. More accurately, Adia looked for the map. Scratch’s job was keeping K’nuckles and Larry from wandering off, the former of which was still sound asleep. As the day slowly turned to night, however, the calm, repetitive noises of the sea and the rough snoring of the captain getting to him… Pushing through his mental walls…

He began to doze off himself, Larry leaning forward as his window of escape drew closer, only for Adia to come bursting out of the water, holding a soaked atlas over her head. A splash of water hit both Scratch and K’nuckles, ripping them both out of their slumber, and leaving Larry defeated.

“Scratch!!” Adia shouted, climbing onto the lifeboat, “We’ve got a map! Or, a few dozen. Either way, we aren’t gonna be stranded much longer.”

“Thank cob! ” Scratch exclaimed, “I’m already sick of being this close to those two.”

She didn’t acknowledge his comment, opening the still damp book to a page on the Atlantic Ocean. She pulled out a pen, and a small flashlight, which she turned on and handed to Scratch. Taking the pen, she marked two lines on the map, almost tearing the paper.

“I got our latitude and longitude before Eight-Armed Willy took down the ship,” She explained, “So we’ve got a few options on where to go next. We won’t be able to make it to Candied Island in this, especially without supplies, so we should probably head to Pickled Island firs-”

“ Pickled Island?! ” Larry exclaimed.

As he once again burst into tears, K’nuckles rolled his eyes.

“We ain’t going to Pickled Island,” He said, stepping up to the map, “I- Uh I mean, Larry hates pickles.”

“We don’t have a whole lotta options,” Adia said, “Besides, maybe you just need to give pickles a chance, they’re not too bad.”

“Well maybe you need to get a better map! There’s no ‘X’ on this thing! How am I supposed to know where to go without an X?!”

“Couldn’t he read maps a few days ago?” Scratch muttered.

“I’m sure it’s just cause he’s tired,” Adia said, “Extreme stress can affect memory, after all.”

“I guess,” Scratch said, turning to K’nuckles, “You got a suggestion or something?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” K’nuckles responds, “Fruit Island’s right there.”

He pointed towards a smaller island on the map just south of Pickled Island. Adia glanced at the map, then at Larry, who’d stopped crying, but was now curled up on the deck, shaking in fear.

“Well, it’s a little further away,” Adia said, “But I suppose it’s better than pickles.” 

Immediately, Larry relaxed. He floated up, that wide, creepy grin returning to his face.

“If we’re headed to Fruit Island, I could cook up a decent stew… Maybe add it to a pot of fish mush…”

“Right, right, can we go now?” K’nuckles asked.

“Sure!” Adia said, “Just as soon as I find out what direction we’re facing…”

~~  ~~

It took several constellations and the rest of the night, but by morning, land was in sight and the four sailors rowed towards the island’s dusty beaches.

“And you’re sure this is the place?” Adia asked.

“Course I’m sure,” K’nuckles said, “Me and the boy were stranded here for days, I think I’d recognize it.”

Scratch panted as the three of them rowed, the sheer effort of fighting the ocean waves making it impossible for him to talk. It was a shame, too, as it was becoming increasingly clear that K’nuckles was only using Larry’s gummy face as an oar because of what got him stranded here. Adia would’ve stopped him, but the alternative was the two of them not helping at all, so she opted to keep her mouth shut.

Even as they reached the shoreline, the sand dragging the boat to a stop, K’nuckles dragged Larry’s face in the sand along with it, unable to retain his scowl. Adia could only watch for so long.

“Ok, that’s enough,” She said, “We’re already here, so put him down!”

K’nuckles grumbled under his breath. He stuck Larry’s head into the sand, the ghost letting out a shout of surprise before the captain stepped out of the boat, and walked into the depths of the island. 

“Wait, no-! Agh!” Adia shouted after him, turning to Scratch, “I’m going after him, you see what you can do about the ghost!”

“Sure… Thing,” Scratch said, catching his breath, “I might know… a thing or two about… Ghosts.”

Adia paused. He’d never mentioned that before. It could just be his normal sarcasm showing, but his tone was far too sincere. That single line brought to mind a multitude of questions, all of which she shoved back down.

She could always ask Scratch, they were best friends! K’nuckles, however, was a wild card. She sprinted after him, running deeper and deeper into the jungle’s depths and passing by masses of bountiful fruit trees before finding the blue pirate.

He was alone, sitting on an orange-painted rock next to a pile of bones. His face showed no emotion as he took a drink from his maple syrup bottle. Quietly, she sat down on the sand next to him. He glanced at her, but stayed silent.

“Not very good memories, huh?” She asked.

“Last time I was here, so was Flap,” K’nuckles said, “It was a horrible, rotten day, and it was one of the best days of my life.”

Adia glanced at the bones. It was a bit of a long shot, but…

“You miss him?” She added, gesturing towards the bones.

“This guy?” K’nuckles said, the scowl returning to his face, “This no-good thieving bushman? Of course I don’t miss him! If it weren’t for him, me and Flap would’ve never gotten stuck on this stupid island!”

“Wait… Then, why were you dragging Larry through the mud back there?”

“It was his fault too… I wish I’d never eaten that fruit. For once I should’ve listened to ‘em. Maybe then, the boy’d still be here.”

His speech didn’t make much sense, but it was clear that he would be of no help gathering supplies, not in this condition. Maybe a few hours alone would clear his head…

Adia stood up, walking into the forest just as quietly as she appeared.

~~  ~~

After a long day of gathering a few small crates’ worth of fruit, as well as a couple oars, Scratch, Adia, and Larry sat in their boat, waiting for the stowaway.

“I don’t see why we’re waiting for him,” Larry grumbled, “I could take you to Candied Island myself! That no-good thieving pirate couldn’t…”

Larry’s voice fell to a whisper. In a cruel twist for the ghost, the very man he was talking about stepped out of the treeline.

“Like you’d know,” K’nuckles snapped, “All you needed was an X, and ye couldn’t even get that right!”

K’nuckles sneered a bit as Larry gasped. Adia and Scratch gave the captain worried glances. It was deserved, considering how he must’ve looked.

K’nuckles stumbled forward. He had a noticeable slur to his speech, but not noticeable enough to stop him from putting that stupid Peppermint Larry in his place.

“I’ve had just about enough of you, always acting like you’re smarter than me! If ye weren’t selling those thousand pieces of candy, none of this would’ve happened!”

“What?!” Larry snapped, “I clearly remember telling you only one per customer! Maybe if you’d listened for once in your life, we’d all still be on Stormalong!”

“I had nothing to do with that rickety pile of sticks finally sinking-!”

“Because you’ve never caused trouble before?! Because you weren’t infamous for causing trouble for everyone in town?! For all we know, you’re the one who ticked off that sea monster!!”

“If Flap were here, he’d prove I had nothing to do with it, you slimy, worthless-!”

“ Break it up! ” Adia snapped, causing the two to go silent, “I’d appreciate it if you’d try to get along for the rest of this expedition.”

“I can’t get along with that-!”

“Hey, zip it,” Scratch said, interrupting the two of them again, “If you haven’t noticed, we’re trying to figure out where to go next, and the two of you bickering, right in front of us, isn’t helping.”

K’nuckles grumbled. He’d prove he was innocent… Better yet, he’d prove he was smarter than Larry.

“Let me see that map,” He growled, snatching it from Scratch and Adia.

“Hey, what’re you-”

“Shut it, Toad,” K’nuckles said, interrupting Scratch, “Unlike you, I know exactly where I’m going.”

“Oh yeah? And where’s that?”

“Cammie Island,” K’nuckles responded, pointing it out on the map, “If that weirdo’s still there, we could get ourselves a bigger boat.”

Adia and Larry seemed to take notice, leaning into their conversation. K’nuckles stared between the three of them, not used to having this many people, let alone ones who hardly respect him, listening to him.

At first he reveled in the attention, but after a moment it stopped feeling right. Even through the thick maple syrup, there was still a small voice in the back of his head. There was still someone missing. Clearing his throat, he marked three more islands on the map.

“Now, there’s a few stops I’d like to make before we set out for Candied Island.”

Larry instantly lost interest, confining himself to their tiny lifeboat. Scratch groaned, but said nothing else. He must’ve thought the captain was stalling.

“Why?” Adia asked.

“I ain’t stepping foot on that island without Flap.”

“Oh… Well, about that, um…”

Before she could finish, he shoved the map in her hands, climbed into the boat, and promptly fell asleep.

~~  ~~

Adia’s continual refusal to rip the adhesive medical strip off about Flapjack’s death was starting to become really annoying for Scratch. In any other circumstance, he might’ve said something about it. However, with the past few days in mind, a three hundred-ish year old pirate captain, ghosts, sea monsters, all these weird magic islands, and the occasional dreamlike vision, he couldn’t bring himself to call out anything as impossible.

Even if their next stop, ‘Cammie Island,’ still had no signs of a stranded little boy on its shore.

Their rickety lifeboat came to a stop, small leaks having sprung from the sides over the past several hours. They disembarked, Adia dragging K’nuckles’ still sleeping body onto the sand, and Scratch dragging a flailing and screaming Larry away from the water.

“Well, looks like the lifeboat’s done for…” Adia said.

She dropped K’nuckles to the ground, and walked back to the boat. Larry caught sight of this,  

And his flailing slowed.

“M-Maybe I could help unload the crates?” He asked, “I’m no good with s-s-sea monsters.”

Sea monsters? On an island? Scratch opened his mouth to ask, but Larry slipped from his grasp before he could form the words. He groaned, but the ghost was at least keeping his word. In the meantime…

“Hey, wake up,” Scratch said, tapping K’nuckles with his foot.

K’nuckles grunted, and batted his foot away. It took a much harder kick to shock the pirate out of his slumber.

“Agh! Alright, I’m… Where are we?”

“How do you not-? Nevermind, you said this place was called Cammie Island.”

“Oh yeah, the island with that ugly monster woman,” The pirate said, pushing himself off the ground, “She’ll give us a boat.”

“Well… Where is she?”

K’nuckles shrugged, took a swig of maple syrup, and began his blind trek into the lush jungle stretched before them. Scratch face-palmed. The pirate seemed so stuck in his denial, he’d begun to think these random people from his past could help him. Random people who were, most likely, no longer around. Despite his better judgment, Scratch followed.

They passed through the strange isolated ecosystem, the only animals seemingly being the birds and crabs found on the coastline. The bones of much larger, predatory birds lined the woods, halfway buried in the endless mud and rocks, the only evidence of prior inhabitants.

K’nuckles ignored these. He seemed focused on a line of ancient, massive divots leading up to a hole carved into the side of a mountain.

“She’s probably in here,” K’nuckles said.

“Probably?” Scratch asked.

“How am I supposed to know, she was Flap’s friend.”

He sauntered in without another word, leaving Scratch to reluctantly trail behind him. The cave soon grew dark, the only source of light being the occasional trickle of magma or slow crawl of bioluminescent fungi. The whole landscape was more beautiful than Scratch could imagine, and he mentally kicked himself for not having left Brighton sooner.

Left… Brighton…

He was knocked out of his subconscious when, out of nowhere, he bumped into K’nuckles, now still as the day they found him, and his expression unreadable in the darkness.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Scratch asked.

“I, uh… I found her.”

Scratch glanced forward, 

What he saw made his heart jump.

A pile of bones, human bones more massive than anything he had ever seen rotting to dust in the middle of the cave. Surrounding her were dozens upon dozens of small sailing vessels, each in varying states of decay, but each built with care and attention, save for one small detail. Each had a name scratched onto the side, each a little different.

Flapjack.

Flap Jack.

Friend Flap.

Pancake.

Remember Pan.

Remember Friend.

I will always remember you… Forever friend.

Scratch pulled his gaze away. Whatever this display had sparked within him…  He couldn’t face it. It was a voice he didn’t recognize, not in any meaningful way at least. So why did it make him feel so… Sad?

“Let’s just… Take one of these,” Scratch said.

“Yeah, this place is giving me the creeps,” K’nuckles replied, “I told you she was a weirdo.”

Scratch didn’t respond. It took them a whole day to get one of the old wooden boats out to shore, a day which went by in a blur. No matter how hard he tried, Scratch couldn’t keep his mind away from that voice.

It haunted him, even after they set out to sea.

~~  ~~

“I remember that time when me and Flap raided Peppermint Larry’s closet,” K’nuckles recounted, staring at the sea from the tiny poop deck, “All we found was this big chest of chocolate coins-”

“Chest of chocolate coins?” Larry questioned, before realization dawned on him, “K’nuckles, those coins were real! You cost me an entire shipment of candy! ”

“…Yeah, anyway, when me and Flap found out the coins were real, we brought it with us to Candied Island. I’m not sure what happened to it, but it’s probably still sitting there.”

As Larry began to freak out, K’nuckles laughing and Scratch watching with a worrying thousand-yard stare, Adia studied their map. The islands the pirate captain had marked off seemed unassuming, for the most part. There was one, however, that stood out, for the simple fact that it wasn’t an island. It was… Florida.

Adia glanced at K’nuckles, still recounting strange pieces of his history. The act of doing so seemed to be keeping his spirits up. Perhaps there was no better time to ask about it.

“K’nuckles?” She asked.

It took a moment for his laughing to calm down enough for a response.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask… Why’d you mark here?”

K’nuckles gave her a quizzical glance, and looked over his marks. Despite her pointing it out for him, it still took a moment for the captain to spot it. When he did, though, a wave of nostalgia washed over his face. It only lasted a moment, though, before he jumped into yet another tale.

“Oh yeah! Me and the boy found that place. Never saw an island that big ever again. He got us lost, so I had to fight through the hordes of giants living there to get back to the ocean. When it was all over, we decided to name it after the boy, since he didn’t find anything great out there.”

She stared at him in disbelief. Over the course of their journey, she’d become more and more certain that the ‘dread pirate’ moniker was only granted to this particular individual because he was annoying, rather than anything actually dangerous. She was about ready to lecture him about the sheer waste of time going there would be when he continued.

“Flapjack’s Island. He got lost there once, chances are he’s lost there now.”

Oh. Just another attempt to get his lost friend back. She glanced at Scratch, remembering how it felt when he’d come back into her life. How it felt when he wasn’t there. How the pain of losing a friend slowly numbed away, until she had almost forgotten… And how, for K’nuckles, this pain was still fresh.

“Well…” Adia began, “I… I know you want to see Flapjack again, but that island’s too far from our current course. But, I promise, if we don’t find him on the next couple islands, we’ll head straight there.”

A tear formed in K’nuckles’ eye, but he grit his teeth, forcing it back.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” He growled, before walking away.

~~  ~~

The ship docked at a small port town in the middle of the ocean, a familiar port town resembling Stormalong in many ways, save for one small difference.

All its inhabitants were dogs.

K’nuckles stepped out, smelling the salty, musty air, something that would’ve smelled identical to Stormalong were it not for the unmistakable musk of dog poop, and listening to the incessant barks and howls coming from deeper within. Adia and Scratch soon followed, with the conspicuous absence of Peppermint Larry. Upon finding out where their next destination would be, the ghost decided to guard the ship. It reminded K’nuckles of a week where he’d gone missing following the dog infestation of Stormalong, but he dismissed it.

“Here we are,” K’nuckles said, “Dogalong Harbor. Maybe they’ll have some dang candy here…”

“Is that the only reason we’re here?” Adia asked.

“Well, no. This place is full of dogs! It’s nothing but dogs! Flapjack loved dogs! I think.”

“A port run by dogs?” Adia chuckled, “What do you think of that, Scratch?”

Scratch stared into the town. He watched a group of dogs run past them. Whatever he’d seen on Cammie Island, it’d left him so quiet even K’nuckles was beginning to worry.

“Molly would’ve loved this,” He muttered.

Instantly, all of K’nuckles’ worries were quelled. He knew that tone of voice. That man was looking for his own Flapjack, only his name was ‘Milly’ or something. What a stupid name.

Adia, however, seemed to recognize the name. Her concern was palpable, and she took her friend’s arm-

“You can go on without us, I think we’re gonna be here for a while.”

-And sat him down at the edge of the dock.

K’nuckles could see an emotional conversation coming from a mile away, and it made him gag. There was no way he was staying for this, no matter what ‘revelations’ came of it.

With a grunt, he wandered into the port town.

The layout was a near exact replica of Stormalong, even with the whole dog theme. Dogs ran around like the children of Stormalong, a Pug was taking the place of Scoops Pennington, this nasty Pinscher that acted exactly like the Dock Hag, there was even a Terrier that looked remarkably like the Inventor. In fact, probably because it was run by dogs, it hadn’t changed a bit since he’d last been there almost three hundred years ago.

Three hundred… The number still didn’t seem real. He’d managed to wrap some of his mind around the fact that things would change, but not the entire world. Not everything he’d ever known. He didn’t want to admit it, but the notion scared him to his core.

A world without Stormalong. A world where everything is already mapped out. A world void of grand adventure and fantastical treasures. A world where sea monsters are rare oddities, or categorized into normalcy. 

A world without Bubbie. A world without Flapjack. A world without him.

He slammed into a window. In an instant, all of his thoughts turned to rage at the misplaced building. He glared into the glass.

He didn’t look any different. Aside from his missing hat, and the speckles of sunburn now forming on his exposed scalp, everything else looked the same. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh at the world, having failed to wear him down, or to cry, for the entire world had left him behind.

He wouldn’t get to. The glass began to crack from the force. The window soon crumbled before him, revealing something he hadn’t seen in ages.

Upside down, being sold as some strange fisherman’s dog bowl, was his old captain’s hat.

“That’s impossible,” He muttered, “Last time I saw this was on…”

K’nuckles gasped. Flapjack had to have been here! The hat was the last thing he’d ever given the boy! And if the hat was still around, then there was a good chance Flapjack was too!

Quickly, he grabbed the hat, felt its slimy, comforting brim stick to his head again, and made a mad dash back to the ship.

~~  ~~

“Molly would’ve loved this.”

Scratch didn’t recognize the name. What came out of his mouth was totally involuntary, almost as if it had been trying to get out for days. He tried pulling the memories back, but no matter what, they just wouldn’t respond.

He only barely felt Adia take his arm. She said something that made the captain gag, before pulling him to the side of the dock. The sea stretched before him, an unknowable blue infinity with too many secrets hidden beneath its depths for any one man to catalog. He wondered how far away from Brighton he was. He wondered why he even thought of Brighton anymore. What was so special about that nowhere town that had him trapped for so long?

Adia pulled him out of his thoughts, turning his head to face her.

“Is everything alright, Scratch?” She asked.

Was it?

He couldn’t come up with the words. He could barely pull back the memories. For the most part, it all seemed to come when he wasn’t even thinking.

So, he just started talking.

“I’ve, um, been thinking about Brighton. Not that I want to go back there,” He chuckled, “But… What’s it like now? I mean, they built a whole new bandshell and I didn’t- I mean, I remember being part of the construction, I guess, but it’s blurry. And how’s Weird Larry doing? Did he ever sell that creepy haunted doll of his? Actually, did he ever get that skunk-sitting business to take off? They replaced the Tugbottom statue, guess cause the old guy was a bum, and Davenport’s finally collapsed, I guess.”

He paused. Something linked all these together, but what? Or rather, who?

“Adia,” He finished, “Did you ever talk to a… Molly McGee?”

“Once,” Adia said, “She was asking about you, actually. Funnily enough, she thought you were dead!”

Scratch laughed.

“I might as well have been!”

They shared a laugh, but even through the moment, Scratch felt something echo in his mind.

I can’t tell you my Death Story cause I don’t remember my Death Story!

It was his own voice this time, dangling a piece of history in front of him that didn’t make any sense, that opened up more questions about his life than it answered.. He quickly noticed that he’d stopped laughing, now staring back into the water.

“Look,” He continued, “When we’re done with all this Candied Island business, I think we should head back to Brighton for a couple days, just to make sure yours truly didn’t miss anything.”

“...Sure thing, buddy,” Adia said.

She pulled him into a hug, and he hugged back. To have a friend who would accept him back after being gone for so long, and who’d still be willing to help him through this weird bug in his memory… It  was almost too much to bear.

This moment wouldn’t last long, though. Scratch heard a panting, and a squeaking. The unmistakable sounds of Captain K’nuckles. He appeared over the side of the dock, now sporting a fitting red hat, and sprinting straight for their boat.

“ Run!! ” He screamed.

Adia and Scratch looked back.

Hundreds upon hundreds of dogs were chasing K’nuckles down the docks.

The two of them screamed in terror, and ran after the captain.

To their relief, all three of them managed to make it back to the boat unscathed.

~~  ~~

Adia never expected the end of their journey to be too difficult. She didn’t expect for it to storm so suddenly while they were mere hours from K’nuckles’ final island. It started at the worst possible time, too.

It had begun while the adventurers were in the middle of the Sea of Teeth.

Adia held fast to the ship’s wheel, while Scratch and K’nuckles tried their best to keep the only sail up. Larry was below deck, keeping as many holes as possible plugged with his ectoplasm.

Their visibility was low.

The ship crashed into another rock.

Lightning struck the waters.

Huge waves careened into the side of the wooden vessel, rocking it back and forth, throwing them into another rock.

Adia was terrified. Normally, this was the kind of fear she lived for, but with two people on deck counting on her help in piecing together the past, it would be detrimental to enjoy such a storm. The dread creeped further and further as they smashed into another rock, K’nuckles nearly flying overboard.

Before long, Larry floated up next to her. She could only just hear him behind the noise of the storm.

“The hull’s too far gone! We’re gonna have to abandon ship!”

“Tough luck, Larry!” Adia shouted back, “This one didn’t come with a lifeboat!”

“What’re we gonna do?!”

Adia still wasn’t sure how ghosts worked, but if they could be harmed, she didn’t want him to stay.

“Get yourself out of here!” She shouted.

Larry hesitated. After days of trying his best to stay far away from them, he had an opportune moment, and he didn’t take it.

“Larry, get out of here!”

“Oh, I can’t!!” He shouted back, “K’nuckles was right!! I’ll never reach Candied Island without you all!! ”

And before she could react, she felt herself swept up in a slimy net, followed by Scratch and K’nuckles, before they were plunged into the depths of the sea.

~~  ~~

K’nuckles felt a kick.

He opened his eyes, and saw nothing but sand.

He turned over. The storm had stopped, and the sun blinded him. Standing above him, for the most part, were Scratch, Adia, and Larry. He groaned, and stood up, much to Adia’s apparent relief, Scratch’s indifference, and Larry’s chagrin.

“Ugh, where are we?” He asked.

“The last island you marked, K’nuckles,” Larry answered, “I know you can’t read, but I thought you’d at least remember.”

“Shut it, Larry! Just tell me where we are!”

“You’re on Retired Genie Island!”

The four of them turned to face the voice, finding a small group of what appeared to be genies standing before them. They looked pretty ridiculous, all things considered, but at least they answered his question.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.”

“No, thank you for bringing our brother to us!” The genie continued, pointing at Scratch, “This one here must be attuned with the spirits. After all, he was once the Chairman of the Ghost World.”

That grabbed Scratch and Adia’s attention.

“The what?” He asked.

“Of the Ghost World? ” She added.

“Ah well, you’ll find out soon enough-”

“Listen you,” K’nuckles interrupted, “I didn’t come here to talk about these two weirdos. I came here to ask if you’d seen my boy Flap around!”

“Flapjack?”

“Yeah. Flapjack.”

“I’m afraid he’s gone, K’nuckles.”

“I missed him again! How long is this gonna-”

“I mean he’s dead.”

The sentence hit him like a ton of bricks. Adia, Scratch, and even Larry froze. They all turned to look at K’nuckles, their disgusting sympathetic stares only making it worse.

Dead? Dead?! The boy couldn’t be dead! That kid was insane! He’d cheated worse things than death before, heck, he might’ve even been a literal angel! How was this even possible! He’s- He’s… He’s…

“He’s dead?” K’nuckles asked, unable to muster any other words.

“Unfortunately, yes,” The genie said, “I’m afraid there is nothing I can do to change that. However, I can assure you that you may see him again, someday.”

“Sure,” K’nuckles grumbled, turning away.

“Ah, but before you go, take these. I’m certain you will find exactly what you are looking for in due time.”

The genie placed something in K’nuckles’ wooden hand. He glanced at it.

Two candy mermaid tears.

He turned back, but the genies were gone.

K’nuckles couldn’t find the strength to continue. He couldn’t even muster the strength to use his tiny brain. He just slumped down on the sand, and let the tears quietly flow from his eyes.

He could feel his three companions staring at him, judging him for not knowing what to do. Soon enough, one of them stepped forward.

Scratch sat down on the sand next to him.

“It’s not easy, is it? Losing a friend.”

“Like you’d know…”

Scratch didn’t seem angry. Maybe a little annoyed, sure, what else was new? And yet, he placed a hand on K’nuckles’ shoulder. It was the closest thing to a nice gesture he’d experienced since he’d last seen Flapjack, and despite his best efforts to the contrary, the floodgates were opened.

“I miss Flap, and Bubbie, so much,” He cried, “I should’ve never taken the boy to Candied Island! I should’ve kept him safe, I should’ve… I don’t know what to do anymore! Bubbie always knew what to do! I-I just wish I had Bubbie back!”

Suddenly, one of the tears unwrapped, and flew into his mouth.

Wish!

Chapter Text

There was a flash. Scratch and K’nuckles were knocked back from the shore, as something appeared over the water, crashing down sending huge waves crashing into the beach. Adia and Larry watched in apparent horror, the thing splashing and screaming in apparent terror.

The sudden rush of adrenaline surged through K’nuckles’ mind, sending it into a frenzy. The candy mermaid tears, their power, his own words.

He’d wished for Bubbie back.

K’nuckles gulped as the water cleared, the most terrifying thing in the world now floating before him.

“Where am I?! Where’s my-”

The whale spotted him, reached out, grabbed him by the collar, and started shaking the pirate in front of her.

“K’nuckles! What have you done with my baby?!”

“What the…? H-Hey, let him go!”

Bubbie faced the others, Adia in particular taking charge of the situation. 

“Back off,” Bubbie growled, “This is between me and him!”

“T-To bad! He’s been traveling with us for long enough that, as far as I’m concerned, it’s just as much our business as it is yours!”

“W-W-Well, I wouldn’t say I-I’m wholly in on it,” Larry said, letting out a nervous laugh, “It’s n-n-not, well it’s just a-a-a simple misunder-sand-ing!”

She stopped, and all the anger drained from her face, replaced with a genuine look of confusion.

“Is… Is that Peppermint Larry?” She asked.

“Yeah, it’s been a few years, whale!” K’nuckles snapped, “Now put me down or-”

“A few years?! I don’t wanna hear any of your ‘tall tales’ right now, you filthy urchin! What happened to-”

“It’s not a tall tale!” Scratch yelled, shutting everyone else up, “We found him at the bottom of the ocean frozen in caramel! Apparently, he’s been down there for almost three hundred years!”

Bubbie mouths ‘caramel,’ but stays silent. Scratch continues, his rant growing more feverish and passionate as he continues.

“Ever since we met him, it’s been like the world’s unraveling around us! We found ghosts, monsters, weird pancake creatures- Like this purple… I don’t even know what he is, but he’s still disturbing! And to top it off, I’m not even sure my life is real anymore! So step off, buster. You’re not the only one dealing with an existential crisis, here!”

…

The silence hung in the air.

No one expected such a speech from Scratch, least of all K’nuckles. It felt as if it had come from his own mouth, his own feelings echoing through them. He felt something drip down his face, but whether it was seawater or something far, far worse, he couldn’t discern.

He didn’t even notice when Bubbie’s grip relaxed.

“I was… I couldn’t…” Bubbie paused, stifling tears, “W-We were at Candied Island. K’nuckles took my baby to shore. They were gone for so long, but they’ve always come back fine from their adventures. I just thought they were having fun… Then I heard Flapjack…”

She hesitated.

“The last thing I saw was my baby running from a tsunami. H-He was so scared… B-but before he reached me, I was here.”

She choked. Slowly, she put K’nuckles down, before giving in to her choked sobs. The pirate stared at her, unable to form words. He knew exactly how she felt, but… What he wouldn’t give to have the chance to save Flap.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Adia approach Bubbie, and give her a hug, or at least a close approximation of one.

“You know, we were already on our way to Candied Island,” Adia started, “If we make it, I don’t know if we’ll find Flapjack, but… It might give you some closure.”

Bubbie wiped the tears from her face.

“Alright,” She said, “I can take you. They didn’t call me the fastest thing in the seven seas for nothing.”

K’nuckles winced. He turned back to face Scratch, who glared at him. Ok, so maybe he didn’t necessarily ‘navigate’ the Sea of Teeth, big deal! Quietly, he turned back to Bubbie.

“My stuff’d better be untouched,” K’nuckles growled, his voice barely masking his own sadness.

“Shut up, you old fool,” Bubbie growled back, “As soon as we get to Candied Island, I’m leaving you there!”

“Fine by me!”

“Fine!”

“Fine…”

And with that, he jumped into her mouth.

Soon after, the others followed. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“...A-And I can’t figure out what’s wrong because they won’t talk to me anymore! Flap’s been staring at his hat since last night, a-and when I saw Libby this morning she hid in her sweater-!”

“Woah, Molly, slow down!” Ollie exclaimed, grabbing her shoulders, “Everything’s gonna be ok. If you can talk my parents out of hating ghosts, you can get Libby and Flapjack to stop fighting.”

Molly took a deep breath. Having explained the last week of escalating conflict in vivid detail to Ollie, her heart and thoughts raced. Spring break was approaching its end, and soon she would be even less capable of monitoring the two on a consistent basis.

Getting them to be friends was out of the picture at this point, and getting them to stop fighting would require all of her focus. 

“Maybe we could go to weird Larry’s tomorrow for supplies…” Molly muttered, “He might be able to help us finally figure out where Flap’s treasure came from, too.”

“His treasure?” Ollie asked.

“It’s, uh, something he thinks he stole. Maybe if we find out where it’s from, we can clear things up between them, y’know? Convince her that he’s not so bad…”

Ollie opened his mouth, but hesitated. If she knew him as well as she thought she did, he was about to say something related to his ghost biases, but they both knew a specific grudge is far more potent than an overarching stereotype.

“Well…” He starts, “There’s gotta be an easier way to uncover his past. Have you checked in with the Ghost Council?”

Molly’s racing thoughts stopped, locking onto those words. She’d been so focused on Scratch, and avoiding or preventing the conflicts associated with his departure, that she never even considered the chance that the Council had information. She jumped up in excitement, but before she could do anything else, June rushed in, nearly knocking her over.

“Have either of you seen the Phantom Canister?” She said, less than obvious panic in her tone.

“ What?! The Phantom Canister’s missing?!” Ollie exclaimed, “Where did we leave it?!”

“Huh. If you don’t know, then…”

“L-Look,” Ollie started, “I’ll help you find it, but I’ve gotta help Molly get to the Ghost World first!”

“Couldn’t you ask Geoff to send you to the Ghost World?” June asked.

“Wouldn’t it be weird to drag him into this? I haven’t seen him much recently…” Molly said.

June stared at her for a moment, shrugged, and left. Ollie wasn’t quite as nonchalant.

“Molly, if Jinx gets out, she might be even harder to beat! I’ve gotta help June find the canister, a-and she’s right, Geoff with a G is your best shot!”

He shot up, following his sister, but not before wishing Molly ‘good luck’ from down the hallway.

She sat in silence for a moment. Ollie was right. The only way to uncover Flapjack’s past at this point would be through the Ghost Council, and the only way to them was through…

“Welp, I sure hope Geoff can’t hear this!” She shouted, “Oh boy, I can’t remember how to spell his name! How does it go, G-E-F-F… Or maybe it’s something like J -E-”

Right on cue, the green specter slid forth from beneath the floorboards.

“Woah, slow down there, Molly,” He said in the most innocent tone imaginable, “If you can’t remember how it goes, you can always ask. It’s G-E-O-”

“Geoff, I need you to get me to the Ghost World!” Molly exclaimed, grabbing the ghost by the shoulders.

“Oh well why didn’t you say so! After that whole thing with Jinx, you’re always welcome there!”

He opened a ghost portal, which Molly promptly leapt through. For a moment, the world was cold. Then there was a flash of yellow, before her soulless husk fell to the floor, leaving her glowing golden ghost gliding above it.

Without another moment’s hesitation, she rocketed back through the portal mere seconds before it closed, and found herself engulfed in the bleak darkness of the Ghost World.

To her relief, she was right in front of the Ghost Council, more specifically Sir Alister, apparently the only one managing affairs that day.

“Where’s everyone else?” She asked.

“Dealing with a rogue ghost shark,” He responded, sarcasm dripping from his tone, “Can I help you, McGee.”

“Yeah, right, well, I was wondering if you all had any, I dunno, information on a specific ghost that might’ve lost his memory?”

“Another Scratch situation?”

“W-Well no, Flapjack’s actually dead.”

Alister paused.

“The Spec-tear?”

“The uh, spec-what?” Molly asked.

“Flapjack was the first Spec-Tear, a bit of an experiment by the old Chairman to see if he could make the seas even more miserable. Apparently, it worked fairly well until someone rebelled.”

Molly scoffed.

“Anyone would rebel against that guy.”

“Yes, and this one in particular caused a little too much collateral damage.”

“What? It couldn’t be-”

“Captain Flapjack, leader of the Spec-Tears ravaged the seven seas for weeks before the Chairman finally caught him and sealed him away in the Flow of Failed Phantoms. He banished the old council for failing to keep him in check, too, part of the reason why we haven’t attempted anything at such a large scale since.”

“But… What about his life?”

“Apparently, he was already suffering from memory loss when the Chairman found him.”

Molly was speechless. Yet again his past eluded her, but still… Now that she knew his mishap in the water was caused by the Chairman, a plan on how to reverse his condition began to form in her head.

“Well, thanks anyway,” She said, “But… If the old council was banished, how did you know all this?”

“Why else would we keep such thorough records?”

She couldn’t argue with that.

As she turned away, the plan continued to solidify.

She just needed Flapjack to use the robe to reverse the curse, with Libby as his sole audience member.

She only hoped nothing worsened while she was away.

~~  ~~

Libby could barely hold back her tears.

The long battle had taken its own toll on her, the strange appearances of some species of manticore being the only reprieve from the nightmares. She didn’t know what that meant, but the rest… She could guess. It had happened before, after all.

That stupid pirate had stolen something more valuable than any lost island of candy. He’d stolen her best friend. All that fear and anger that had driven her for the past several days had transformed into a shadowy resentment that no words or affirmations could shake away. How could they? For all Libby knew, she was about to be alone in the world.

She couldn’t think straight. Every passing idea led her right back here.

The Brighton River. Where they had their standoff against the legendary Leviathan. Where she had her standoff with the supposed ‘captain’ Flapjack. 

Where the world would attempt to grant her solace, in the form of a glint on the ground.

It caught her eye, and she picked up the shiny object. To her shock, it was June’s Phantom Canister, forgotten and alone, just like her.

At any other time, it might’ve reminded her of the times Molly and Scratch worked together with her to face off against the many paranormal threats the town had faced, of a bond too strong to break through mere circumstance.

Now, however, a shaky sneer crossed her face. The item in her hands was exactly what she needed to end this once and for all.

Chapter Text

“I wish I had Flapjack back!”

No response.

“It clearly ain’t working for you, fool, give me that!” Bubbie said, snatching the mermaid tear from K’nuckles, “I wish I had my baby back!”

No response.

“You don’t know anything about candy mermaid tears, woman! Hand it over!” K’nuckles snatched it back, “I wish we had Flapjack back!”

No response. The two of them continued to argue as they finally made their way to Candied Island, and Adia was beginning to feel sick of it. Normally, she’d tune it out by talking to Scratch, but he’d been distant for the entire ride…

She couldn’t break him out of it. Time to think was what he needed most after the last couple weeks, which left only… Larry.

The ghost had been seated at the far end of Bubbie’s mouth, a fact Adia had been trying to ignore on account of it being ridiculous and disgusting, avoiding the whale’s massive tongue on an old, wooden cabinet. She couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Everything alright over there, Larry?” She asked.

“I don’t understand how K’nuckles lived like this for so long!” He responded, “I can barely look at it!”

“C’mon, Larry, it’s actually not that bad. A little slimy, but you’re a ghost, you can handle it!”

He hesitated for a single, long moment. 

Slowly, he floated off the cabinet, and took a seat on the tongue next to Adia. He shuddered as soon as he came into contact with it, a surprising sight to anyone unfamiliar with specters.

“You can still feel?”

“Obviously,” Larry said, “All my other senses work fine, why wouldn’t touch?”

Suddenly, a huge can of worms had been opened. Ghosts, how they work, their existence as a whole, all could be revealed right here. Adia reached into her pocket, and turned on her phone, opting to record the conversation in secret. This was a monumental moment, and Adia wasn’t about to pass it up.

“Because you can phase through solid objects?”

“Not always,” He began, “It takes a bit of practice, and an even bigger bit of focus, something you don’t really have when being chased by Eight-Armed Willy!”

She chuckled.

“No, I guess not… But humans haven’t been around forever, language even less so. Where do ghosts learn all this from? Or more accurately, where did they originate?”

“Not what, or where, who. The Chairman of the Ghost World.”

The name struck a chord. That was the same being mentioned by the genies, maybe even the same one mentioned by Willy himself.

“The Chairman?”

“Probably the most powerful ghost to ever exist,” Larry explained, “I’ve only ever seen him in person once or twice, he doesn’t typically come down to Stormalong. I would guess it’s because there’s nobody to keep miserable down there.”

“Yeah, that’s what Willy mentioned… Why would anyone want to keep people miserable? I mean, it’s not like he feeds on it, right?”

“...”

“...Well…?”

“Of course he feeds on misery! That’s the source of his power! He’s used that power to create monsters more dangerous than any you could imagine, he handpicks ghosts to harvest and maintain misery across the world! Some of my best customers were taken by him, and none of them have been seen since.”

“...Oh.”

Larry paused, staring off into the distance with a dead, terrified look in his eyes. It was only for a second, though, as his demeanor instantly improved, and he threw out a corny joke.

“I’ve heard of pickles, but that guy was the whole jar!”

Adia chuckled again, though this time with a bit more concern layered behind it.

“Let’s change the subject… Oh, you and K’nuckles have history, right?”

“A little,” Larry said.

“Alright, so why was he given the title of dread pirate?”

“That was a different pirate. The only reason we’d ever call our K’nuckles a dread pirate is ‘cause we dreaded being around him!”

“Wait, it wasn’t him?”

“No. He started operating a while after that K’nuckles got chased out of Stormalong and disappeared. I don’t know why anyone would take his name, practically the entire ocean knew him. People always assumed it was because of their similar hats.”

Adia was speechless. If the Dread Pirate K’nuckles really was a different person, not only were the history books mistaken, but the greater, more dangerous K’nuckles could still be out there!

But… Then again, he could be dead. He could be a… A ghost!

Adia opened her mouth for another question, only to be cut off by a shout-

“ CANDIED ISLAND!!! ”

K’nuckles’ sudden carefree scream grabbed everyone’s attention, even snapping Scratch out of his stupor. They watched him jump to the top of the mouth, and climb up the whale’s blowhole. With a near month-long journey mere seconds from reaching its conclusion, Adia couldn’t help but follow through the small, wet tunnel..

“Ain’t she the most beautiful sight in the seven seas?” K’nuckles said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Ain’t nothing’s beautiful without my baby…” Bubbie muttered.

“Woman, if Flap ain’t here, then this ain’t the right island!”

K’nuckles danced atop the whale as Scratch and Larry made their way up as well. It was a sweet sight, the captain finally reaching his goal, but something was off… Something Bubbie still didn’t know. Something K’nuckles still had yet to accept.

“But… Isn’t Flapjack de-”

Before Adia could finish her sentence, a black shadow plunged into the water mere inches ahead of them. Bubbie’s tail splashed into the water, pulling her to a stop.

“What’re you waiting for?!” K’nuckles snapped.

“Shut it, you old fool!” Bubbie snapped back.

For a second, there was silence.

The water began to boil.

A moment later, a shiny black creature began to surface.

~~~~~~~~~~

“…And that, Flap, is why I’m dragging you along for ice cream on a Saturday!”

It was kinda true. Molly McGee was dragging her new friend Flapjack across town on a Saturday for ice cream. Her reasoning though? Well…

“Oh, I get it! It’s like where we first became friends, right?” Flapjack asked.

“Uh, yeah! Yup, that’s totally it, no other reason,” Molly responded, scratching her arm.

Truth be told, she still wasn’t sure if this would work. The lying in particular might even make things worse, but telling the truth would get her nowhere. Besides, if it worked last time, she could make it work this time.

The two stopped in front of Sweets and Treats, open and restocked in the early morning, a time which left the place desolate, save the few workers prepping for the rest of their shifts and…

Libby.

She sat alone. The note Molly pasted to her front door last night was rolled out on her table, the colorful invitation to meet scrawled with black ink, scratched in a way that betrayed her best friend’s mistrust of the note. She dismissively poked at her ice cream, her bloodshot, unblinking eyes scanning the room for any potential intruder. She looked like she had been… Crying.

She couldn’t bear to look at her, and pulled her gaze away, only for it to land on Flapjack.

She hadn’t noticed before, but his hat was gone, replaced by the hooded robes clinging to his body. She couldn’t quite place it, but he seemed duller than before, a bit of his golden glow hidden in the dark cloth. His smile twitched at the ends, more forced than before, and the remnants of dripping ectoplasm stained his cheeks.

A pang of guilt stabbed Molly’s heart. If she had just come clean to begin with, maybe they could’ve worked something out, but her focus on ignoring Scratch’s departure left her scrambling for anything and everything to fill the void. She didn’t even notice it had gotten this bad until it was too late.

She placed a hand on the door, and hesitated.

A part of her thought that keeping them apart would be for the best.

Before it could take hold, the rest grit her teeth, and pushed forward. It was never too late to at least try.

“You wait out here, ok?” Molly said, “I’m not sure how well the workers will react to seeing a ghost.”

“Ok,” Flapjack said, raising an eyebrow.

Evidently he was beginning to catch on to her schemes. This might be her last chance. Shaking off her doubt, she stepped into the store, and over to Libby’s table. It took her a second to notice Molly’s presence, but as soon as she did her arm crashed on top of the note. Molly could still see the edges, revealing some sort of detailed analysis of the handwriting and potential internal meaning. 

“Oh, um, hey Molly,” Libby mumbled, “You actually showed up…”

“Of course I did, I’m not gonna ghost my best friend!”

“Um… Yeah.”

Libby’s gaze drifted towards the window, darting around as if searching for her golden nemesis.

“I knew that,” She finished.

Her voice was slow, choked, almost inaudible. It was an obvious lie, and Molly couldn’t help but point it out.

“Ok, what’s wrong?”

“What? N-N- Nothing. E-Everything’s fine. ”

“... A great woman once told me that avoiding my problems wasn’t actually helping.”

“...”

“Libby?”

“I’m not avoiding anything.”

“That’s rich coming from the talking tooth!”

The two girls turned around. Flapjack had invited himself in, and the full weight of the location dawned on Molly. Of course he wouldn’t be worried, he’d managed to keep himself hidden from these workers for weeks!

“I was only trying to scare you away!” Libby snapped back, jumping from her seat and garnering a few confused stares from the workers, “I won’t let you hurt my best friend, I’m not gonna let you destroy Brighton, and I’m sick of your stupid nightmares!!”

Tears began to fall down both their cheeks as Flapjack snapped back.

“Oh yeah, well I don’t even know how I did that!” He screamed, garnering a… Stare from a worker, “It’s not my fault you think your best friend would throw away your friendship!”

“No, but it’s your fault she did!!”

“Maybe you should’ve been a better friend!!”

The two stared at each other for one long, uncomfortable second, unable to form words through choked sobs as the workers panicked. Flapjack was visible to everyone, and was beginning to take on a horrifying, warped appearance as their emotions escalated. Molly pushed herself out of her seat to intervene, but before she could, Libby pulled something horribly familiar out of her pocket.

The Phantom Canister.

“M-M-Maybe you just need to Leave!! ”

“Libby wait-!”

But it was too late.

The canister was open.

A purple blur flew past Flapjack, ripping the robes from his body as a horrible cackle filled the air.

Libby’s skin turned white.

Flapjack shrank back to his normal size, a look of terror on his face.

Molly simply recognized the cackle.

“ Oh, it feels so good to be back! ” Jinx said.

Chapter Text

The spirit cackled, a deep lavender glow emanating from her as humans and animals alike fled in terror. Glass shattered and doors swung open as the full power of that dark, ghostly artifact flowed into her. 

She grew into an unsettling, skeletal monster, her piercing yellow eyes swirling with rage on a jagged, smiling face.

In fact, the eyes were staring down at them.

“Well, well, well. Molly McGee. How long’s it been, a week? A month?” Jinx laughed, “ I thought I told you that little bottle trick wouldn’t hold me. ”

She pointed two bony fingers at the girls, and bolts of electricity arced towards each of them. They struck Molly and Libby, ripping their souls from their bodies and dragging them into her icy grip.

The shock alone was enough to silence Libby.

Molly, however, had a few choice words.

“Pfft, that’s not even what you said la-”

“ Shut it! ” Jinx snapped, “ Now, what am I gonna do with the little bundle of joy? ”

Her other hand made a crushing motion. 

In an instant, the entire building crumbled to dust.

The rubble spun around them in a twisted display of power, revealing the deep lavender sky, clouds churning in a chaotic electrified mist.

“I know,” Jinx said, “I’ll rip your soul apart, piece by piece until the only thing you feel is crushing emptiness! I’ll crush you till there’s nothing left to crush, then, I’ll cast your lifeless husk into the Flow of Failed Phantoms!! ”

She let out a thunderous laugh which split the skies, before continuing.

“You’ll never bother me again! But… There’s not much stopping you from just coming back again… Oh, I know, how about I have your little friend here watch?”

Molly couldn’t quite make it out, but she thought she heard Libby whimper a quiet ‘no.’

However, before the purple ghost could put her plans into motion, a chartreuse claw swung in from behind them, and with one swift motion severed the ectoplasm in her wrist, freeing the girls.

“What the-?”

“Hey, leave my friends alone!”

Three sets of eyes followed the claw, leading them to the outstretched, warped arm of Flapjack.

“Ha! I knew you’d come around!” Molly exclaimed, “See that, Libby, he’s still-”

“Put Molly and Robes down!”

“Oh.”

Jinx stares at the interloper, a faint confusion in her gaze. Recognition soon floods her expression, and her crooked smile returns.

“You… You’re one of the Chairman’s little experiments, aren’t you?” She asked, “In fact… You’re that idiot who tried taking the robes from me before, aren’t you?! ”

The mention of that day shocked Molly. Jinx’s total control over the Ghost World gave her the impression that no one even had the chance to stand up to her. Libby, however, seemed shocked for an entirely different reason.

“Yeah!” Flapjack snapped, “And I’ll do it again, you big bully!”

Jinx laughed, her hand regrowing into a sharp set of claws, her form becoming more massive, jagged, and dark. 

In an instant, Flapjack transformed into a gigantic crab.

He scuttled over to the ghost, grappling her with claws which dwarfed the buildings around them. Any damage he managed to get off fused back together immediately, and any she managed would only shrink the golden beast for a moment.

“ Annoying brat! You don’t know the true power of these robes! You don’t deserve them! ”

Flapjack gurgled.

“Uh… What?”

He took a moment to form a mouth on the crab.

“As if they’d prefer big, bad, and boring! ”

“There is nothing boring about making ghosts like you miserable.”

They pounced onto one another, struggling in some ineffectual attempt to contain or destroy the other.

It was horrific, brutal, and Molly found her mouth hanging agape as she stared at the conflict. Closing her mouth, she turned to Libby, the vestiges of a plan forming in her mind.

What she saw shouldn’t have surprised her, and yet…

“Libby, what are you doing?!”

She held the Phantom Canister between her shaking ectoplasmic hands, aimed towards the combatants.

“I’m… I…” Libby started, “I-I-I’m gonna finish this!”

“No! You can’t!” Molly shouted, grabbing the canister, “You’ll trap Flapjack!”

Libby paused. Her expression was unreadable. She mouthed two words.

“I’m sorry…”

Her grip tightened around the canister, and the cap popped open.

A beam of light flashed before them…

Flapjack was knocked back.

Jinx grabbed onto the floorboards.

She stayed in place, the robes trailing behind her as the emerging vortex tried to pull her in.

“As if the second time would be that easy,” She growled.

With a grotesque snap, her head turned, her face hardly even humanoid anymore, and pointed a bony finger at Libby.

“ I curse you, human, ”

“ To take my place, ”

“ Clog the canister, ”

“ Fill the ca- ”

She choked. Something small and yellow had flown into her mouth. Unphased, she reached her hand in. At that exact moment, ‘she’ spoke-

“ I curse myself, ”

“ To wallow in misery, ”

“ To do to myself, ”

“ What was done to thee! ”

Suddenly, the robes flew off, and Flapjack along with them, leaving Jinx floating in the beam, once again resembling a normal ghost.

“What?!” She exclaimed as the vortex began to peel the ectoplasm from her body, “You can’t do this to me! I was this close! And are you serious?! Rhyming ‘myself’ with itself?! You’ll never be as good as the one true-!!”

Jinx never got the chance to finish. She fell into the canister, its cap closing on her. 

In an instant, the skies returned to a bright blue, and the dust settled. The three ghosts floated in the wreckage, the air silent.

Then, Libby spoke up.

“You… You saved me?”

Flapjack looked down.

“I was in the Flow for longer than I can remember… I don’t care if we’re enemies, I’m not gonna let someone do that to a friend of Molly’s.”

They paused. Before Molly could interject, Flapjack began again.

“You saved me first though-”

“Yeah, well, I figured… I-If you were good enough to stand up to Jinx, it didn’t matter if you were a real captain or not.”

They went silent. This time, Molly spoke up.

“You know, Flapjack’s shapeshifting thing was a curse put on him by the old Chairman… Maybe we could use the robes to reverse it?”

Flapjack and Libby looked up at her.

“We’d need to know what the curse was though, right?” Libby asked.

“I don’t know,” Molly responded, “But, even if we do, I know of one way we could find out.”

With a cheeky smile, she tugged at the robes, now clinging to Flapjack. The captain stared at them, uncertainty overtaking his face.

“You mean use it to time travel?” Libby asked.

“Yup, or at least see what happened!” Molly exclaimed.

“Are you sure about this?” Flapjack asked.

“Well, the real question is whether you know how to use these. I’m pretty sure the answer is ‘yes.’”

Flapjack floated up. With some hesitation, he spread his arms out. The air warped, turning a bright green, and his eyes flashed white. Molly and Libby floated up next to him.

Then, seemingly, he lost control.

“ Oh robes, I ask of you, ”

“ Show me the day I lost my crew, ”

“ With memories lost and horrors upended, ”

“ Show me the day I discovered Candied Island! ”

The trio vanished instantly.

Chapter Text

For a moment, there was nothing.

…

Then a flash of blue filled the sky.

Molly’s vision slowly adjusted, and she found herself floating above a massive body of water, its edges spanning as far as the eye could see. Nothing disturbed the water’s surface, save the ever rushing wind. It was the only thing she could hear, too. In a panic, she looked over her shoulder. 

She breathed a small sigh of relief when she found Libby and Flapjack floating beside her.

“You’ve, um, gotten pretty good with that, haven’t you?” She asked.

“M-M-Maybe a little too good…” Libby whimpered.

She had Flapjack’s arm locked in her grip, a clear attempt to keep him away from the water. Despite her persistent tug, he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were locked on something else. Something shining in the distance, the setting sun highlighting its shimmering lemon rivers and bright pink clouds. Something that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than the seabound mirage Flapjack had spoken endlessly of since the day they’d met.

“No way…” Molly whispered, “Is that Candied Island?”

“Candied-! It’s real?!” Libby shouted.

“Looks like it,” Molly said.

“B-But that’s impossible! H-H-How could something like this have existed for so long without anyone knowing about it?!”

“Well that’s… Um, actually a really good question. Flap?”

The ghost still wasn’t responding. His gaze had turned down, landing on a lone seafaring creature, a massive sperm whale, one with two passengers. Both jumped around on the whale’s back with a palpable excitement, and while the taller, bluer one which limped around on a pair of rickety wooden legs remained unidentifiable, the smaller, more energetic, and louder of the two gave off an instant air of familiarity.

It was Flapjack.

Suddenly, Molly found herself at a loss for words. She stared at the three explorers, their journey reaching its obvious conclusion. When they reached land, Flapjack and his companion jumped to the ground, and in a show of sheer disbelief ran cackling into the depths of the island.

As they disappeared, Molly felt Flap grab her arm with a force and urgency he’d never shown to her before. He swooped down, dragging her and Libby after the two ghostly fragments of the past.

He stopped dead when they came into view.

“...Can’t believe I’m standing on Candied Island!” The blue one said, tears welling up in his eyes, “She’s more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined, boy…”

“It truly is,” Flapjack added, “But not as beautiful as being here with you, Cap’n.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” The captain said, “I’m retiring!”

“Wha?”

“I found what I was looking for,” He continued, “There ain’t no need for adventuring anymore!”

“Wait, but, what about our adventures?”

“Boy, when someone finds what they’re looking for, it's their responsibility to stop looking for anything else.”

“But what am I gonna do without you?”

“Eh, you’ll figure it out.”

The captain glanced down at Flapjack, who began to sob. He let out a half-hearted groan, before kneeling down to look the boy in the eyes.

“Look boy, I’ve, uh, taught you everything I know. How about you… Uh, find your own adventure?” The captain took off his hat, and presented it to the little sailor, “You’ll probably need this.”

Flapjack was speechless. He took the hat in his hands, staring at it with awe and wonder. Soon, his cries turned to ecstatic giggles, and after placing the grimy cap on his head, he jumped up to embrace the captain’s face.

“Thank you, Cap’n!”

“Eh, don’t mention it,” The captain said, pushing the boy off his face, “Now come on, let’s enjoy this! We’re on Candied Island for Pete's sake!”

The duo raised their fists in triumph, and shouted-

“ CANDIED ISLAND!!! ”

They hardly noticed when the island began to tremble.

But Flap did.

The ghost shuddered, and turned to face a distant valley. There, oozing from the mountains and accumulating beneath, was what could only be described as an ocean of caramel.  It began to flow towards them, and Flapjack noticed.

He let out a yelp of surprise, and began tugging on the captain’s jacket. The captain didn’t notice. 

In a moment of sheer panic, Flap released Molly and Libby, rushing towards the captain with his arms outstretched. He reached out to save him…

 Only for his hand to phase through.

“What’s going on?” Molly asked.

“I don’t know,” Libby said, “I guess the robes won’t let him meddle with his own past.”

Flap kept grabbing at the captain, desperately trying to save him from his approaching fate. It was no use. The caramel swept him away, his arms still raised in triumph. Flapjack tried resisting the wave, but he too was pulled under, and swept into the ocean.

~~  ~~

The world was suddenly replaced by the endless expanse of ocean, the trio floating above it once more. Confused, Molly glanced around.

“Did we… Rewind?”

“Um… I don’t think so,” Libby said, “Maybe there’s- Wait, look!”

She pointed at something in the water. A large wooden schooner had appeared, and was dragging a massive fishing net along the bottom of the sea. After a moment, they began to pull it up, revealing a golden brown rock contained alongside the piles and piles of fish.  

“We’ve gotta be following Flapjack’s life!” Libby continued, “Or, well, afterlife, I think.”

“But… Wouldn’t his ghost be here?” Molly asked.

“I… Don’t remember this…” Flapjack whispered.

“Well of course you don’t, that’s what we’re all here for,” Molly said.

“No, i-i-it’s… When we saw Cap’n a-and Candied Island, I remembered that, but…”

Flapjack trailed off. Before Molly or Libby could reason with him, he grabbed them, and brought them in closer to the boat. Closer to the rock.

The crew had brought it aboard, and were studying its contents. The silhouette of a little boy was just barely visible behind the translucent sugar. One of them tapped it with a cutlass. The blade cut right through the still fresh candy, spilling its insides all over the deck.

Flapjack’s body fell to the floor with a wet splat. 

The sailors jumped back, murmurs beginning to build between them. As the volume increased, it became apparent that they thought he was dead.

One man, tall and imposing, his attire ousting him as their captain, stepped forward from the depths of the crowd and poked at the body.

Flapjack stirred, provoking gasps from the onlookers. The captain appeared shocked, but maintained his composure. As the boy looked up, spit streaming down his slacked jaw, the captain addressed him-

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Why do you care?!”

The disrespect sent waves through the entire crew. Even Flap was taken aback by the sudden outburst. The captain in particular immediately lost his cool, grabbing the little sailor by the neckerchief.

“Listen boy, and listen good. This is my ship. I care because the last thing I need is some worthless stowaway killing my men and ruining my jobs. Now, let me ask you again - What is your name?”

The captain wouldn’t get his answer, as he had left his cutlass open. The blade cut through his heart like butter, and his killer growled-

“Leave me alone.”

The captain fell. The crew were left in a still panic. The killer landed on his feet.

“Fl… Flapjack,” Molly stammered, “What the…”

“ What the cob!! ” Libby snapped, “All this time, we’ve been traveling with a murderer! And you-”

“T-That’s not me!”

Time began to speed up, memories swirling around the three.

“ That’s not me!! ”

The crew crowned him their new captain. They called him K’nuckles, for it was written under the brim of his hat. He sank hundreds, slaughtered thousands, all the while staying far away from people, and distant from his crew. He never took any treasure, any prisoners, any maps. 

“ That’s! ”

It all seemed to be in service of keeping people away.

“ Not! ”

He just had a violent way of showing it.

“ ME!! ”

A flash of chartreuse could be seen overtaking the boat, before even that was consumed in the cacophony of memory.

~~  ~~

The swirling stopped. The water was once again still, not a boat in sight. Flapjack, hugging himself, shaking, and grinding his teeth, had otherwise gone silent. 

Libby, on the other hand-

“If that wasn’t you, then who is?! Face it, buster, the only way you could explain any of this is if…”

Then it dawned on her. It couldn’t have been more obvious. The scrubbed memories, the sudden out-of-character reactions, the way he acted back in Brighton, his supposed date of death, his disappearance… And a faint, golden glow over the water.

Flapjack was a wraith.

And his soul cried out.

“ Bubbie!! ”

…

There was no response.

Quietly, Molly led the three of them closer to the ghost. Close enough to hear his pained sobs as he searched and searched, uncovering nothing over the vast inky blackness.

“Bubbie…” He sobbed, “W-Wh-Where are you…?”

He curled up, his soul floating on the water’s surface.

“Where are you, K’n… Kuh?”

He grabbed at his head, trying desperately to hold on to the memory of his captain, a memory which had already slipped away.

“I… I can’t remember!”

His cries continued, quieting as the dusk turned to night, and silencing as an unknown voice addressed the sailor.

“ Can’t remember, you say? ”

Flapjack jumped. The voice seemed to come from all around them, and as the shadows in the water stirred it became clear why.

They formed together into the distinct, hooded shape of the Chairman, and he rose from the water accompanied by… Some small greenish ghost.

“Hey Molly, who’s that?” Libby asked.

“I’ve, uh, never seen him before,” Molly replied, “He’s probably part of the old Ghost Council.”

“Old Ghost Council?”

“Yeah, they uh, apparently didn’t last.”

“Oh.”

The green ghost and his liege approached Flapjack.

“Well, I’m certain you can remember your name,” He said.

“I… I think… I’m Cap’n Flapjack?”

“Very nice, sir, and might I ask, how did you find yourself alone here? 

“But I can’t-”

“To be more specific, how did you die?”

“Uh-”

“It doesn’t really matter, you have been selected by the Chairman! That is a grand honor!”

The hooded figure stared at Flapjack, who shrank back.

“I-It is?”

“Most certainly. You are to be given a special curse, and become the first of many to bring an extra layer of misery to the seas.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Chairman has deemed our current sea monsters inadequate, to put it lightly.”

“But I meant-”

“I do hope you enjoy this! It’s not often one of us lowly ghosts gets special treatment from the Chairman!”

Before Flapjack could say anything else, the Chairman pointed at him.

~~  ~~

There was a blinding flash, and before they knew it, the boat had faded back into view, this time with a chartreuse serpent wrapping its body around it. The Chairman and the green ghost were watching from a safe distance.

“Yes, the Spectears have been quite successful,” He explained, “Their captain most of all. Soon, you shall bear witness as he seizes this vessel’s captain, leaving the entire crew in hopeless disarray!”

The Chairman nodded.

The serpent attacked with an unbelievable ferocity, but never so much as breathed on the crew. The captain fought back in a violent, careless manner, throwing himself into harm’s way. It was only a matter of time before they would clash.

Molly, Libby, and Flapjack could only watch as the golden serpent bit down on the soulless captain, destroying him in one bite.

The serpent froze. His pupils dilated. The Chairman’s lackey didn’t seem to notice.

“See, Chairman, sir!” He said, turning away, “The experiment has been nothing but a success! I’m sure the many others you have selected for this process are eagerly awaiting your retu-”

The Chairman closed his fist, and the ghost’s mouth slammed shut. With a look of pure terror in his eyes, he turned back to the serpent.

The boat was gone, reduced to a scattered bed of splinters and bodies on the surface of the water.

In silence, the Chairman grabbed him, and dragged him after the serpent. Flapjack did the same with Molly and Libby. As they drew closer, the ghost began to panic. He tried to say something, but his mouth refused to cooperate. Soon, a port town came into view, one supported above the water on rickety wooden scaffolding.

Wrapped around it, was the serpent. In mere seconds, the entire town had sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Before he could continue his rampage, the Chairman pointed a finger. The serpent froze, and a portal opened behind him. A gust of greenish wind dragged him in, and the portal closed.

The Chairman turned to his subordinate. A silent rage boiled off of him, and the terrified ghost found his mouth open. As he babbled on, the same portal opened behind him.

“Chairman, sir, I-I-I am terribly sorry, I never thought it would get this far, I assumed this individual was already dead, please, sir, have mercy! Mercy, please!! ”

But it was too late. As the ghost found himself trapped in the Flow of Failed Phantoms, the memory began to crumble.

Molly, Libby, and Flapjack were left shocked and alone in the dark silence…

~~  ~~

Brighton faded back into view.

Flapjack stared at his hands. Their once brilliant chartreuse had given way to a pale gray, as if the memories had sucked out the very last of his being. He’d destroyed himself, Stormalong, the last piece of his captain… His whole world, gone in what felt like an instant.

“Flapjack,” Libby said, “I’m… Um… Sorry. R-R-Really…”

“H-Hey, at least we found out how you died, right?” Molly added, “Now you don’t have to worry about your memories anymore!”

They were barely audible. All Flapjack could think about was what had happened to his captain. What had happened to Bubbie. What had happened to him. And it was all thanks to… Thanks to…

Candied Island.

His hands began to turn a pitch black, as if melding with the robes covering his ectoplasm. It didn’t matter. If it would help him discover the location of that stupid island, and stop anyone from suffering the same fate as him, so be it.

He turned, the sight of his face enough to make Molly and Libby gasp, before rocketing into the sky, heading the direction which should not be named.

“What was that?!” Libby shouted.

“Uh oh…”

“What?! What do you mean ‘Uh oh?!’”

“Um, look, Libby, I don't think we have time for this, come on!”

Without another word, Molly grabbed Libby’s arm, and sped off after Flapjack.

…

Still in the rubble, Molly’s shell sat up. Her phone was ringing, and with a half-hearted swipe at the screen, she answered.

“Yeah?”

“Molly!” Ollie’s voice exclaimed, “June just caught a huge psychokinetic energy signature! It came from right where you’re meeting Libby! Are you ok?!”

“I’m fucking miserable.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The black creature arose from the sea, its head alone dwarfing the nearby Candied Island. Its dark silhouette blocked out the sun, as patchy dark clouds slowly rolled in. It rose until its shoulders were visible, just peeking above the water. Whatever it was, it was large enough to be feasibly standing upright on the seafloor.

Then, it looked down.

Its eyes, nothing visible within but a lonely, angry storm, locked on the captain.

And he gulped, because looking into them instantly told him everything he needed to know. Told him the unmistakable identity of the sea beast.

And something told him Bubbie felt the same way. 

However, as the beast raised an arm to destroy them, the force of which sent fifty-foot waves hurtling in every direction, pushing them back, Scratch’s focus locked on something else.

Something he seemed to recognize.

A golden-green speck, flying towards them at impossible speeds.

Just before K’nuckles’ old friend could send them sinking to the bottom of the ocean, Scratch’s slammed into his hand, sending it off course, and crashing back into the water.

Chapter Text

“Flapjack!” Molly shouted, “Flapjack, stop!”

“I don’t think he can hear us,” Libby said.

“We have to try!”

The sea monster raised its hand, catching a glimpse of the insects clinging to it. With a flick of its wrist, it sent the two ghosts flying into the eyes of a distant sea creature-

“ Agh!! ” She cried, “Flapjack, I taught you better than this! Calm down, baby!”

Wait… she knew his name?

Molly peeled herself away from her, and backed up. There was no doubt about it. It was the whale from Flapjack’s memories. Libby did the same, staring at her in sheer disbelief. 

“What the- Larry!” She shouted, “Keep your friends outta my eyes!”

“Friends?!” A panicked, shrill voice called from above, “They’re all back in Stormalong!”

“Well, you ain’t the only ghost here anymore!”

Four faces became visible on the whale’s back. The first, purple and slimy, could only have been Larry, because the others… Flapjack’s Captain K’nuckles, the unmistakable face of Adia Williams, and… 

Scratch.

Molly found herself at a complete loss for words, the world around her fading into the background. Scratch was here. He was standing right here, staring at her with… Something closer to familiarity than otherwise. Was his memory returning, too?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bubbie, Peppermint Larry has no friends,” K’nuckles said.

“I have more than you, K’nuckles…”

“Could you two stop bickering, we’re under attack!” Adia snapped, before turning to the girls, “You two, care to introduce yourselves?”

“Oh, um, I’m, uh…”

“Can we skip the introductions?!” Libby snapped, pushing her out of the way, “Flapjack’s a bit more important right now!”

“How do you know his name?!” K’nuckles snapped back, “Did you do this to-?!”

He didn’t get a chance to finish, as one of the giant’s hands managed to grab him from behind. The others jumped from the sudden attack, Larry in particular retreating back inside Bubbie. It dragged the shrieking pirate away from the others, throwing Molly into a panic. She rocketed after him, grabbing onto the hand as it continued to rise.

~~  ~~

Scratch was shocked.

The ghost looked so familiar. Too familiar. Not even K’nuckles’ screams could snap him back to reality. That golden glow… The look she gave him… And her bravery, when she latched onto the same hand which took the pirate…

‘If there’s a chance for my best friend to remember his past, it’s worth the risk!’

‘Hiding things is what got you all bubbly to begin with...’

‘Taking risks is how you know you’re actually alive!’

In a tidal wave, all of his memories came flooding back, forcing themselves out with a single word.

“...Molly?”

“Huh?!” Libby exclaimed.

“What?” Adia asked.

“T-That’s Molly!” Scratch continued, “A-A-And Libby! What are you doing out here?!”

“You remember?!” Libby asked.

“Remember…” Adia muttered, “Scratch, how much did you forget?”

Before he could respond, a wave even more massive than the last swept past them, sending Bubbie even further away from their destination.

“Are you done up there?!” She snapped.

“Yeah, okay, long story short I was dead!” Scratch said, turning back to Libby, “You ever learn to make one of ‘em ghost portals?”

“W-W-Well, I’ve tried, once or twice-”

“Then make me one, quick!”

~~  ~~

Libby didn’t know what to do. Here she was, her best friend once again in danger, the ghost she had fought against for days holding her hostage, and Scratch standing right in front of her. It was too much for her to handle, and she found herself frozen in place.

“C’mon, Libby! Molly needs us!”

“Wait, Scratch, can any ghost make a portal?” Adia asked.

“Yes? Maybe?! I don’t know!”

Adia nodded, and leapt down Bubbie’s blowhole, as if that was some kind of confirmation. It didn’t help that her friend was in need, and she couldn’t rise to the occasion. Maybe she was scared of failing or misjudging something again, especially with so much at stake, maybe the back-to-back confrontations had ripped the drive out of her, or maybe she never had the drive to begin with. After all, she had already failed to protect Molly.

She was staring her anxiety in the face, and it was taunting her.

Twitching and sputtering in place.

Mocking her every move.

And here she was, letting it get in the way of saving her best friend?!

Her fist balled, and she swung it forward. With it, she spun a circle in the air, creating a black spark, and then a hole. A ghost portal.

“As a matter of fact, I can, Scratch!” She said, feigning confidence, “Now let’s get up there and save Molly!”

“Right behind you, kid!” Scratch said.

He jumped through the portal, leaving Bubbie speechless as his body slumped down on her back, and his ghost followed Libby up to the face of the dark specter.

~~  ~~

When Adia returned, dragging a screaming Larry behind her, she found Scratch slumped on Bubbie. She lifted his face. He looked half-asleep, sad, almost lifeless. For a second, she panicked. Then, he blinked, and she released a sigh of relief.

“Larry, what the heck is this?” Adia asked.

“Why should I-?! Oh no, the fear got to him! Poor Scratch’ll have to scratch up dirt if I don’t get him out of here!”

“What?”

“Are you tellin’ me you didn’t just see that guy’s ghost fly off?” Bubbie asked.

“What?!”

“L-L-Listen, I’ll keep his body safe,” Larry said.

“ What?! ”

But before he could explain, he slipped into Scratch’s body. It jerked around for a moment, before standing up with a sickening crackle. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe,” ‘Scratch’ said, “After all, where better to hide from the belly of the beast than in the belly of the beast?”

“Watch yourself, Larry,” Bubbie grumbled.

With a smirk, and a laugh with an unnaturally gummy grin, ‘Scratch’ jumped back down the blowhole.

“Well, I guess that works,” Adia said, “Um, h-hey Bubbie, can you get us up close to that… Um, sea monster?”

“You call my baby a monster one more time and I’ll make sure you go home in a cast.”

“Right, sorry, the adrenaline might finally be getting to me… Can you bring us closer to Flapjack?”

“Of course I can.”

With that, the whale darted forward, pushing against the incoming waves.

~~  ~~

K’nuckles screamed.

Flapjack’s hand had him in its icy steel grip, and he was, as usual, helpless. He couldn’t fight this thing, even if he wanted to. The grip grew tighter, and the beast raised him over its head as if winding up for the pitch of a lifetime.

K’nuckles closed his eyes. He wasn’t ready to die, but he was more than willing to accept his fate.He probably deserved it anyway.

However, just before Flapjack could throw the captain, something pulled back.

The ghost from before, glowing brighter than the sun. Grinding her teeth, she stretched her ectoplasm taught around the monster’s arm, stopping it in its tracks.

“Flapjack!” She shouted through pained gasps, “It’s me… Molly! You… You’ve gotta stop! Whatever happened back th… Back then, we can’t fix it! But… But we can make the future better! I need you to let go! Please!”

He didn’t listen. He raised his other arm out of the water, sending colossal waves rippling out, and grabbed her. It effortlessly ripped her away. Despite keeping her locked in its grip, it paid her no mind, its focus once again on its captain.

“Flapjack, no! Please, you have to listen! ”

It didn’t respond. Those eyes… They swirled faster, sparking with anger, sure, but also… Something only K’nuckles, maybe Bubbie would recognize. Fear.

The boy was afraid? For what?

Before his mind could wander further, a blue streak zipped past K’nuckles. It stopped near Molly, revealing itself to be yet another ghost, one which looked an awful lot like Scratch. The intrusion distracted the monster just enough for his grip to loosen, and long enough for a green ghost to join the captain. She grabbed his shoulders, and began pulling him up.

“What the heck are ya doing?” He growled.

“What?” The ghost whispered, “I thought you wanted to get out of here?”

He popped out of Flapjack’s grip, and slipped out of the ghost’s.

“I lost that boy once. It ain’t happening again. That would just stink.”

Readjusting his legs, K’nuckles steeled himself, and marched up the monster’s arm. He saw the green ghost fly off to help Molly out of the corner of his eye, but ignored her. As he reached the side of Flapjack’s face, the only thing that mattered became clear.

He had to be a better captain. He had to comfort his boy.

He began to scale the beast’s enormous head. From that height, he could see everything. He could see Flapjack’s gaze grow more fierce. He could see Bubbie and Adia grow closer to them. Most worrying of all, he could see the three ghosts struggling to keep one of the hands restrained.

The monster raised the first, oblivious to K’nuckles’ absence, and slammed it down on the second, scattering the ghosts. K’nuckles found himself frozen, but out of what, he couldn’t tell. He was nowhere near where he needed to be, and despite their predicament, Molly pointed at him.

In an instant, the three lined up in front of Flapjack’s head, just close enough for the captain to hear them. The beast raised an arm, ready to push them to the bottom of the ocean.

But before he could, Molly wrapped her arms around its face.

“Flapjack, Me and Libby know what happened,” She said, “We’ll help you through this, no matter what.”

Flapjack froze, as Scratch followed suit.

“Hey, big guy,” He added, “I bet you think you’re irredeemable, that whatever you’ve done can’t ever be fixed. Well guess what? I’m proof otherwise! Molly here helped me see what I was missing out on in life, and now I-”

“Uh, Scratch, that’s not why he’s here,” Molly said.

“It’s not? Uh, still, if Molly hasn’t given up on you, then I won’t either!”

Then Libby.

“Flapjack!” She yelled, “I’m sorry! I didn’t have any reason to be mad at you, I-I thought you were gonna take my best friend away! Please, please don’t prove me right!

The storm began to… Slow. Even stranger, Flapjack began to shrink. He sank further into the water, until not only was Candied Island visible again, but Bubbie and Adia came into earshot. Of course they had to add their piece.

“Everything’s gonna be ok, baby!” Bubbie shouted, “I’ll always love you, no matter what!”

“I know a good whale when I see one!” Adia added, “And Bubbie’s one of the best! After all I’ve seen them do, I know Bubbie and K’nuckles won’t ever abandon you!”

Flapjack shrank further, a silhouette of his face becoming more visible through the shadow. With the distance reduced, K’nuckles found himself right next to one of the boy’s eyes. He pushed himself to scale the last few feet, and found himself staring into it.

“It’s good to see you again, boy,” He said.

The storm worsened, if only for a moment. K’nuckles took a deep breath. He’d never said anything like this before…

“Flapjack, Candied Island was never as important as our adventures. It wouldn’t be the same without you, and I’m sorry about what happened… What I’m trying to say is… All the candy in the world couldn’t replace you, my boy.”

K’nuckles embraced Flapjack.

As the monster shrank back, the black cloak falling away and revealing the chartreuse glow of his boy, he embraced the captain.

And they floated down to Bubbie’s back.

~~  ~~

Cap’n…

His Cap’n… Alive. Well. Trapped in his cold, gooey embrace, and for once, reciprocating.

It filled Flapjack with an indescribable joy.

Best of all, he could feel everyone else around him. Molly, Libby, Bubbie, and maybe a couple of their friends. It was warm, and despite his eyes being closed, a sharp glow pierced his eyelids. Wait…

Flapjack opened his eyes, and noticed just how blinding his own body was. With a sheepish chuckle, he let go of everyone, and calmed himself down.

“Heh, sorry guys.”

Flapjack flew away from the others, listening in on them as they recuperated.

“Hey… Where’d the robes go?” Libby asked.

“The robes?” Molly asked, “Uh, I dunno, but if Scratch’s curse is still working…”

She elbowed Scratch, who gave her a look of confusion before something flashed in his eyes.

“Oh, um, they’ll go find another worthy soul!” Scratch said, “Glad I remembered.”

Molly sniffed, and gave Scratch a hug.

“Good to have you back, buddy,” She said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“You guys really think we should be saying this in front of Flapjack?” Libby whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he considered it a friend, and it kinda just left him, and-”

“We don’t gotta worry him any more,” K’nuckles said, “Now where’d that boy run off to?”

“He’s over there,” Adia said, “Watching us.”

K’nuckles glanced at him. As Molly and Scratch flew after the former’s body, and Libby began filling Adia in about everything that happened in Brighton, K’nuckles walked up to Flapjack, and sat down next to him. He paused, and took a quick sip from his bottle of maple syrup.

“It’s good to be back, huh?” He asked.

Flapjack didn’t respond. To be clear, he wasn’t sure what to say. Everything had happened so fast. Even back then, before he had forgotten everything, he didn’t think he would ever see his captain again. He didn’t think he would ever see Bubbie again.

And he found himself crying, curled up on her back.

“Oh, come here, baby,” Bubbie said, scooping Flapjack up in her flippers, “Let me wipe those tears away.”

“Bubbie, don’t coddle the boy! I lost people too, y’know, and-”

“Shut up, you old fool! Quit actin’ like you don’t care, I heard what you said up there!”

“Y-You did?”

“Of course I did, us whales have exceptional hearing. Besides, you weren’t exactly quiet!”

“Well I-! You-! I didn’t-!”

K’nuckles’ defense soon devolved into loud, intermittent sobs.

“I missed the boy! I didn’t know what to do without him! I ain’t ever gonna leave him behind, to heck with Candied Island! It ain’t worth it!!”

Bubbie laughed at K’nuckles’ outburst, but Flapjack smiled. That warm feeling was coming back full-force. They were his family, they would always be his family, and not even the bounds of death and time could ever keep them apart. 

Though, he did have one little question.

“So you don’t care if I’m a ghost?” Flapjack asked.

“Of course not, pumpkin-”

“I still wish you were alive, so we could have some real adventur-”

K’nuckles choked.

Wish!

Chapter Text

The Brighton River, having recently been downgraded from a level two biohazard to merely a level one, flowed before Molly as she sat on its edge. In one hand, she clutched a letter. Considering who it was from, it was surprisingly well written, even though he still failed to write a working return address.

She only knew because her own letters to him kept getting sent back. He didn’t seem to mind, since his letters still seemed to come at around the same time every week, but it still didn’t feel right. For months, these letters were her only contact with her friend, that little sailor who had reunited her with someone she couldn’t bear to lose, and despite all he had done for her, unintentionally or otherwise, she couldn’t even say hello.

As she held the unopened letter, she contemplated letting the whole thing go. Drown it in the river, and forget. It wasn’t the first time a friend of hers wouldn’t ever see her again, and it wouldn’t be long before he forgot as well. Maybe it was for the best…

“There she is. I knew she’d be out here!”

“Scratch, I told you.”

“Exactly, Libs. I knew she’d be out here.”

They sat down beside her at the riverbank, their playful bickering having failed to catch Molly’s attention. Scratch waved a hand in front of her face, which broke her out of her stupor.

“Huh? Oh, hey guys.”

“You alright, kid?” Scratch asked.

“Fine… Not fine… I don’t know.”

“Is this about Flapjack?” Libby asked.

“…The stuff with Flapjack, i-it all happened so fast that I never got to thank him for helping me find you,” She turned to Libby, “Or get you two to completely settle your differences. It was… Well, one minute, he was around, and the next, he was gone.”

There was a silence.

“Um… Look on the bright side, Mol,” Scratch explained, “At least he remembers us.”

“Yeah, unlike a certain gourmet I know,” Molly laughed, “Still…”

“Well… Why haven’t you read his letter?” Libby asked, “They’ve never been sad, and, honestly this moping isn’t like you at all.”

“I… I just wish I could actually respond.”

“Funny… We’ve actually thought of that.”

Molly’s face perked up just a little.

“B-Before the advent of modern communications, when sailors or pirates found themselves in a place where they couldn’t contact anyone, they’d send messages in bottles.”

“Libby, that’s not-”

“I know, it sounds impossible,” Scratch interrupted, “I mean, how could we even find a beach out here? Well…”

“Adia told us that the Brighton River empties right into the Atlantic Ocean!” Libby exclaimed, “We could send something out right here!”

“Really?!” Molly exclaimed, jumping up, “This changes everything, so long as we don’t worry about the implications of all that sludge going into the ocean! Well, what are we waiting for?”

“For you to open that letter.”

“Oh, right.”

Molly opened the envelope, a water-damaged piece of paper hidden within. There, written in cursive and inscribed in ink, was Flapjack’s latest adventure.

“Hello, Friends!”

“Remember how last time I said Cap’n got arrested?”

“Well, Bubbie and I broke him out! Turns out he was arrested for stealing a little camera!”

“The Inventor would’ve loved to see this. I wonder if this one has a little guy in it, too.”

“Oh, yeah! We made a stop at Stormalong to drop off Peppermint Larry.” 

“He’s been complaining the whole time about Bubbie’s breath.”

“I kind of agree with him, but don’t tell her I said that.”

“We discovered a little part of the dock that was still standing after all this time!”

“Bubbie said it was a miracle, but Cap’n said it was impossible and stupid.”

“She still got Larry to take a picture of us before he left.”

“I think it looks great! What do you think?”

“Love, Flapjack”

Molly checked the envelope, finding a small square of paper sitting snug at the bottom.

She pulled it out.

On it was Bubbie, K’nuckles, and Flapjack, on a cracked bit of wood in the middle of the ocean. Bubbie looked as happy as any whale could look. K’nuckles looked more embarrassed than anything.

Flapjack, hugging his captain and donning his little white sailor cap, beamed with pride. He was as adorable as any living kid should be, and the sight of him alive and well warmed her heart.

Molly realized that she had already thanked him. She had already helped him even more than he could have helped her.

Rising from the bank, she turned to her friends.

“Well? What’re we waiting for? Let’s write that letter!”

And stepped away from the water.

Chapter Text

They say love conquers all.

While I’m not necessarily inclined to agree with that on the principle that there’s an exception to almost everything, in the universes of the Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack and the Ghost and Molly McGee, this is practically a law of physics.

Ok, hear me out, these shows are basically the same. They both feature the iconic scheming blue guy with their child companion duo, in a town which the kids are both relatively new to, and are forced to leave on multiple occasions. The kid in question is responsible for saving the scheming blue guy from his own demise, and spends the remainder of the series basically protecting him from himself, in a way that both describe as a neverending nightmare. The blue guy in question is an adventurer who never actually adventures, a pathological liar, and more technically skilled in an area the kid has a deep interest in.

While yes, Molly and Scratch are arguably more intelligent, individualistic, and all around better people than Flapjack or K’nuckles, it can’t be denied that their similarities far outweigh their differences. I mean, they even pull off the happy-grumpy dynamic together!

But then, what about their worlds? In theory, they’re completely different, with strange inventors, mad barbers, terrible comedians, and Hulking Krakens on one end, and angry schoolteachers, reclusive writers, managerial masterminds, and Unsettling Reapers on the other, but in practice?

Both exist in a world that doesn’t care about them, a world in which their earliest experiences involve failing miserably at making friends or at the very least failing miserably at any form of cheerfulness they try to bring to their new home. To anyone else, it would be discouraging, horrible, unbearable, and in multiple instances for both this is the case. Heck, even their best friends don’t want to be around them! 

And yet, through it all, all that happiness eventually rubs off on the blue grump. 

Through it all, the happiest kid in the world makes one, true friend. 

A friend not even the very fabric of reality could keep them from.