Chapter Text
When Caine said that today's adventure was "mature" and "scary", Ragatha wasn't expecting that to mean she'd be getting dragged into a ghoulish abyss by a tongue that a door somehow has.
And why, out of all things she could've grabbed onto to save her in that moment, did she grab Jax's leg, pulling him in with her?
The event that followed afterwards was a blur, the memory fuzzy in her digital mind. Ragatha remembers screaming (were they all screaming?) and seeing a white mask snatched by yellow-gloved hands, it's porcelain shine following them through the door. There was a green glow and, for only a second, they were nowhere at all.
Though it'd be weird to admit out loud, Ragatha almost likes that second of nothingness. The one that always occurs when going through one of Caine's portals. For a brief moment, everything that is and was; she is released from it. She can take a breather without breathing at all. She can stop trying, stop smiling, for just a second. Maybe for less than that. The sensation is so quick that it took a while to even notice that it was there. But once she noticed, it's all she noticed. It was uncomfortable at first, but the feeling grows more appealing, more comforting, with each transition, and the longer she stays here.
Not this time though. Even in the moment of nothing, her panic still rings true. She's going through the really scary door. And she's going with Jax.
Thump!
The two characters, now completely separated from the others, come face to face with a hard wooden floor. Ragatha's soft plush texture hits the floor with a dull bump, whereas Jax's not-so-convenient rabbit body crashes hard.
Ragatha lifts her head, hearing the man groan beside her. The area they've found themselves in is dark and cold.
As if on cue, they turn to face each other, and the reality of their situation sets in.
There is an expression on his face she doesn't normally see. It's a look, she's concluded, that he only has when he is genuinely upset about something. His eyebrows are furrowed, lips slightly parted, and his pupils have shrunk to small black squares, which are lightly shaking.
When was the last time they were alone together?
Jax is about to speak when a thunderous lightning crash illuminates the manor room. A trophy room. Flames are ignited in a fireplace ahead of them, and Ragatha's swallowed her heart once she can make out the figures surrounding her.
Six heads are mounted on the walls next to them, three on each side. They resemble the humans in the circus but as haunting caricatures. Her eyes land on the one representing herself, which holds a grin so unsettling it makes her skin crawl.
She finds herself regretting asking how far Caine is going to go with the scare factor earlier.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Ragatha turns to find Jax looking at her, unenthused, arms crossed, paying no mind to the horrors around them. His eyes have returned back to the wide, dark rectangles she's grown to dislike. All-knowing, mocking. The ones that mean trouble. Just being under their gaze initiates a sense of doom, of malice. You are being laughed at before anything even happens to you.
Sometimes, when she's very annoyed with him, she'll feel like he shouldn't have the right to look at anybody. Curses herself after for thinking that way.
She notices that Gangle's comedy mask is in one of his hands.
"You just had to bring me here didn't you? Wanted to punish me for last weeks centipedes?" he brings a finger up to his cheek, looking up to the ceiling as though in thought, "Or was that yesterdays doing? I don't keep track."
A smile.
"Wh-I-" Ragatha stammers, incredulous at the accusation he's already making. "I didn't pull you in on purpose! I was trying to save myself! We wouldn't even be in this situation if it weren't for you pushing me towards the door!" she holds up her arms, "Now look where we are!"
"Jeez, calm down, you act like this is a big deal."
Her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose. "And you still found a way to torment Gangle too. Did you really have to grab her mask? Really?"
"Hey, I was also trying to save myself. Grabbed onto the first thing I could." He places the mask behind his back, and to the regular eye it would appear that it just vanished into thin air. But this is how 'pockets' work here; like inventory in a videogame. Your avatar could be holding a hundred things, of all shapes and sizes, and you wouldn't even realize it.
Normally Ragatha wouldn't believe what he was saying for a second. She mostly doesn't, but, there was a hint of sincerity in that statement, even through his smug smile.
She shakes her head in disbelief. "Whatever, let's just-" her eyes land on the terrifying taxidermies of her friends once again, startling her. She lowers her gaze; seeks comfort by holding her arms.
Caine came up with this?
"...let's just find our way out of here. I'd-.. like to leave as soon as possible."
"For once we agree on something, dollface."
Ragatha shudders at the way he delivers the nickname. She can't tell why she's suddenly so on edge; whether it's the creepy environment around her or that she has to be alone with him.
She settles for the fact that it's both.
They take a look around, absorbing the space.
Around the fireplace sits two red-wine leather chairs, ones that are obviously of great expense. It is then that Ragatha realizes the manor has been vaguely reminding her of a wealth she once knew. A life long forgotten.
She stops herself from thinking about her family right now.
The walls are dimly lit by two warm colored vintage lamps, hung beside the main mantlepiece. There is another head mounted there. One that would be hard to find the proper words to describe.
"Well, he looks friendly." Jax points to it, his voice laced with so much sarcasm and assholery, it makes Ragatha sick.
Before she can comment, she spots a table to their right. A tape player sits on top of it, along with a wooden cross and some sort of magazine print. She steps forward, dress swishing gently against her legs.
"What's that?" Jax asks once she stands before it.
He sounds bored. She decides she can't afford to care.
The magazine headline reads "MONSTER RUMOURS SHAKE TOWN", with a humanoid creature photographed beneath it. Before she can get a better look, Jax is next to her, pushing the play button on the tape.
A mans voice, calm and collected as though reading off a script, fills the room. "My name is Baron Theodore Mildenhall. Hunting has been a hobby of mine for as long as I can remember--although one could say it eventually became more of an obsession. The creature you see before you is one I've been pursuing for years."
Ragatha can only assume it's talking about the seventh mounted head. She notices Jax looking up at it too.
"Not quite a man...but not quite an animal. Something...unholy. Something evil."
Suddenly, Jax yawns in an exaggerated manner, stretching out his arms and muting the sound coming from the tape.
Ragatha's eyes narrow. "Could you do that any louder?"
"What? It's not my fault this story is putting me to sleep. Now I don't know about you but, I'm bored, so I'm gonna get a move on and actually find a way back up."
Hand on hip, he begins walking away to the other side of the room. Ragatha is inclined to follow because, as much as it sucks, she'd rather have his company than be left alone in here. She catches the voice closing with, "I was wrong.", as she follows Jax towards a cased opening.
Despite the space being wide, Ragatha is beginning to feel claustrophobic.
This room is better lit than the last one, as it contains more lamps, but there are no windows. There is no sound. Every corner is engulfed by shadow. The place must be starting to get to her, because the room feels aware. Like the room knows they're here, and they're right where it wants them to be. It has them trapped.
She can't shake the feeling that they're being watched. That every little sound is alerting something. Is that something hiding in the shadows?
Jax, on the other hand, is strutting around opening every door in sight with a complete lack of caution, like this place being labeled 'really scary' with mentions of monsters has not phased him in the slightest. He sighs when, for the third time, a door he's opened has him facing a brick wall.
He turns, and his eyes meet Ragatha's, catching her looking at him. She quickly tears away her gaze, fixating on a portrait on the wall while fidgeting with her hands.
A scoff. "Oh Raggy," his voice is low, curious, "don't tell me you're actually scared?"
"N-no I'm just.." Ragatha runs her hand against her ragdoll hair, nervous, ignoring the way her heartbeat is faster than it was earlier. "Don't you think we should be more careful?"
"Careful, schmareful." he grins, waving his hand. "You want to get out of here quick, don't you? Being careful will only make things take longer...and less fun." He walks towards a large dumbwaiter, and tries at the doors, which are locked.
"Yeah, but, the magazine said something about monsters." She gestures towards the previous room, trying to remind Jax of something that feels like it should be obvious, "A-and the story from the tape?"
"It's just Caine trying to wow us with his worldbuilding." he dismisses. "Sheesh, since when are you so anxious? That's Pomni's job." He grabs the handle of the last, unchecked door. "Poor little jester could barely walk into the front doors of this place."
"You barely know her." Ragatha retorts. "Lay off of her. She's new, and-.. understandably terrified." The last words feel cold on her tongue.
She knows what it's like; finding yourself trapped here, being forced to adjust... she can't imagine facing an abstracted on the first day to top it off.
Jax, about to open the door, stops himself. Something about that statement amused him. "Oh yeah, and you make it better with all your babying?"
Ragatha snaps out of her thoughts. "What?"
He faces her, and eyes her up and down, like she shouldn't be confused by this question. "You treat her like a child. One that needs to be babied. And it's annoying."
His tone isn't sarcastic, nor playful. He's being serious.
A pit forms in her stomach. "I-..I do not-"
"You're the one who should, 'lay off of her'." he creates quotation marks with his fingers.
"Oh, don't even." Ragatha starts, both taken aback by his statement and baffled that he thinks he's done no wrong. "You threw her out of a moving truck! You don't even try to be nice after everything she's been going through."
"Tch," a smirk reaches his lips, "this world is anything but nice, dolly. You should know. Better for her to realize that sooner rather than later."
And to her own surprise, Ragatha has nothing to say to that. She opens her mouth, then closes it, crossing her arms.
Has she really been making things worse for Pomni?
They let the conversation die there, and Jax brings his hand back to the doorknob. Upon opening it, they discover a small room, filled with bookshelves and portraits.
The room is lit only with a dim, flickering green lampshade, cobwebs and dust covering almost every inch of the place. The only thing not covered in its age is a desk and its chair, which holds another tape player on top of it.
"Great." Jax begins to walk away from the room, clearly uninterested in whatever the mysterious-tape-man has to say.
"W-wait! We should listen. Maybe his recordings will tell us how to get out."
Jax looks at her, pondering this, then rolls his eyes and sighs, like he's being forced. Like he's got better things to do.
His attitude bothers her in a way that is unexpected. You're the one who acts like a child.
She kicks herself mentally for thinking that. Clearly, he's starting to get to her too.
They step into the room. Ragatha hits the play button.
"Tuesday, December 4th. Although I had shot the creature multiple times in its vitals and severed its head to keep it as a prize on my wall...my troubles were just beginning."
Ragatha notices that Jax has discovered a drawer within the desk, and is now searching through it. For her sake, she hopes there are no weapons in there. Or centipedes. Or anything that could be used against her in any way.
She looks through the pictures of the creature scattered across the desk. Large, lopsided eyes, ones that seem to not have any eyelids at all. Pale, white-grey skin, and lengthy twisted limbs. It's wings look like they could be tree branches; sharp and jagged, with no feathers of any kind.
"If anyone is listening to this, all I ask of you is one thing--do not let that head out of your sight. You've been warned."
Ragatha's eyes widen. "Um, Jax-"
"Aha!" Jax hops up, proud, with a found key in his gloved hand.
Then the lights go out.
In an instant they're surrounded by pitch black darkness. Ragatha doesn't even realize she's grabbed Jax's arm out of fright when he's already shoving her off of him.
"Uhh, what just happened?" he asks, more annoyed than concerned.
They wait for a beat, seeing if the lights will come back on. They don't.
"Wh-wh..what are we supposed to do now?" Ragatha adds quietly.
"Well, we can get out of this room for one. Pretty sure this key goes to an elevator over there." she can sense him pointing out the door.
"U-right but, well, I can't see anything. Can you?"
A beat. Then hands push her aside. She hears his footsteps walking out the door.
"H-hey! Wait!" She holds out her arms and follows slowly, careful so not to bump into anything. "Jax!" Are you kidding me?
For a moment, there are no sounds. Then there's quiet tapping of Jax looking for the elevator shaft. Ragatha begins to look too, pressing her hands against the walls around her, feeling for a metal gate.
In what feels like more than a minute, there is no conversation. No verbal acknowledgement of the other. No "did you find it yet?" or "I found it!". Not even an attempt from Jax to scare her.
Just tapping and breathing.
In the quiet, her mind goes back to what Jax said. This world is anything but nice.
She recalls the way he hardly spoke, hardly moved, when he first arrived to the circus. How any words of kindness or reassurance she gave him would be responded to with a blank stare.
There was no buildup to who he became. That's just who he was one day. Like one morning, he woke up wrong, and was never able to shake it off. And he's only continued to get worse, more intense.
Uncaring. Cruel.
Ragatha knows there are things she doesn't know, and probably never will. His life before the circus. What exactly him and Ribbit were, and how hard the loss actually hit him. What he really thinks.
But Ragatha also knows that there is a line for going too far. And that's a line he crossed a long time ago.
Some days, though, she can't help but feel guilty. If she had just done something different, maybe it wouldn't be this way, and everyone would be happier because of it.
You treat her like a child. Did she do that to him too?
Deep down, Ragatha believes she failed him.
A heavy, grinding sound echoes through the room. The searchful tapping stops, and Ragatha feels herself freeze.
"What was that?" she whispers.
Silence.
Then, the same sound echoes through again, closer this time.
"Jax?"
Ragatha holds completely still. She has even stopped breathing.
SLAP!
Ragatha gasps, clutching at her heart. Another slap follows, and Ragatha realizes it is clapping of hands.
"Wh- Jax, what are you doing?!" She shouts in a hushed whisper.
"There's a fly in here."
"What!?"
When she receives no response, she approaches the direction she heard his voice in. Another clap.
"Jax, stop!"
"Chill out, I think I got it." he says casually, barely in a whisper.
"Why would there be a fly in here? Don't you think that made a lot of-"
A loud, inhuman shriek from right behind them erupts. They both spin on their heels to find themselves looking at the seventh mounted head, now floating and glowing, revealing a massive toothy maw as it roars.
It finishes its declaration of arrival, and stares forward. An awkward silence hangs over the three of them.
"God, this is so weird." Jax sighs.
"The elevator, RUN!"
Ragatha runs towards the dumbwaiter doors. Jax lazily throws her the key, which lands a few feet next to her.
"JAX!" she growls, before hurrying over to pick it up. She observes Jax slowly strutting towards her, like there's no threat in sight. She also observes, though, that the creature is floating towards them pretty slowly.
It opens its maw again and again, revealing its three sets of sharp teeth, shrieking louder the closer it gets. Ragatha is dependent on the light it emits, which only occurs when it opens its mouth, making it all the more hard to find the keyhole and unlock the door as quickly as possible.
"Come on, come on, come on," she mumbles anxiously as she fumbles with the key.
Jax suddenly stops walking and turns to face the entity. "Do you mind?"
Ragatha cannot even begin to process what Jax's motives are here, if there are any.
The creature stops before him, and opens wide, slower this time. It seems to grow in size, the abyssal maw towering over Jax.
It is full of flickering white holes. At first it seems like hundreds. Then it seems like thousands.
The sight gives her digital goosebumps.
She watches as the calm and collected body language Jax was just exhibiting turns into something else. His body stiffens, his shoulders tense, and his ears stick straight up.
Ragatha hastily turns back to the door, gets the key through the hole, and twists. It unlocks with a metallic creak. Ragatha swings open the door-
and then feels her waist being grabbed, and her body being flung backwards.
Her heart is in her throat when she lifts up her head to see Jax entering the dumbwaiter, closing its doors, without her.
He threw her at the monster.
Jax simply stares at her, wide eyed and shaken, when he begins to descend.
Ragatha, through her peripheral vision, is aware the jaws of the creature are enveloping her. But she doesn't move.
For a while, she is drifting. Floating through a boundless expanse of velvety, obsidian dark, countless white circles twinkling like stars in the night sky. The absence of gravity is less a fall and more an eternal, weightless suspension--one that has no destination. The only sound is the faint, rhythmic pulsing of her heartbeat in her ears, and there is no sight beyond the abyss she finds herself in. She's inside the creature, she thinks, which is a shockingly peaceful sensation compared to what you'd imagine when getting eaten by a monster. Or maybe the creature has sent her somewhere. Somewhere...tranquil. An isolating sanctuary. A vast, soothing, cosmic ocean. Are we sure this is a monster?
What makes a monster?
When answering that question, Ragatha imagines most people would picture something with a grotesque, animalistic appearance. Something that evokes terror or disgust simply by being seen. Something driven by instinct and nature- a predator. Something that does not know right from wrong and poses a threat. But she decides, in this moment, these traits don't inherently make something a monster.
A monster is often hidden in plain sight. A monster is something that chooses to inflict fear and pain; relishes in it, laughs at it. A monster knows what's right, moral, and chooses to work against it. A monster is something that doesn't care about its victims hurt. The cruelty is intentional, calculated. A monster prioritizes its own gain above all else, even if that means destroying and dehumanizing those around it. A monster knows this, and refuses to change.
Ragatha was running from the wrong thing.
"Jumping at every shadow, every noise, I ended up shooting the love of my life, mistaking her for the creature. It's ironic, isn't it? In my attempts to protect her, I ended up becoming the monster myself."