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Open your eyes, Howard Plunkett.
The dark haired man jolted awake with a loud gasp and winced as the bright lights hit his eyes. Am I dead? He frantically looked around. Sterile floor, the occasional beeping of the monitor.
"A hospital?..."
He muttered, voice drowned out by the noises around him. He's not dead, that's a relief. Or at least he thought so. He's unsure if this is real, or a mere illusion The Great Old Ones bestowed upon him when he put them back to sleep.
Pain was the next thing Howard registered, a stinging deep in his leg. He finally lifted the blanket. And just as he expected, a broken leg, held in place by a cast and carefully prodded up on a pile of pillows. Adrenaline really had its kick, huh? He thought, trying to ease himself to a comfortable position.
"Howard!"
The doorknob twisted open, and a man ran in. Curly hair, bearded, and clad in blue, the figure that Howard's always longed for in the span of eight years. The man who is his best friend, his role model, his... Oh, he can't say enough...
Philip Maude.
"Phil...", Plunkett ultimately croaked, sounding dry as if he was dehydrated. He didn't even know how long he's been here. "What happened...?"
Philip's hand extended, reassuringly parting his friends, "Your leg was crushed and you passed out while we were running. You've been like this for almost a month, but it's alright now.", he murmured ever so softly. That almost brought a smile to Howard's lips.
Well, almost.
Howard Plunkett.
"H-huh?" The man blinked at his name. But from the look of it, nobody called him. Not Philip, not himself, not even a medical staff. Not a single soul.
"What's wrong, Howie?" Philip tilted his head, worry written on his furrowed brows. He leaned over the side of the bed and placed a hand on the injured man's forehead, checking his temperature. "Feeling sick somewhere? I'll call the doctor for you, you can tell me everything that's unwell." he kept his voice low, as if afraid to startle him. Howard, on the other hand, couldn't even hear a word.
Plunkett. I know you can receive my voice.
There it is. He took a few glances to check. Still, nothing. I must be going mad–
You are not, and you are awake.
It's inside my head.
The realization struck Plunkett, his hands gripping the beddings. Wow, I really AM crazy. How could this even happen? Is this because I fought...
Precisely.
The voice confirmed, monotonous and lacking of any emotions. "You are The King?" Howard gulped, the events replaying in his mind. His arrival to Greatmaw, seeking for Philip, and destroying doctor Morose's plans...
You trapped us. Do you have any idea of what you've brought upon yourself?
No confirmation was given. Instead, he's being questioned. Ridiculous, he thought. Is this a trick of the mind before he succumbs to fatigue?
"Howard? Howard!"
His train of thought was interrupted by Philip shaking his shoulders. "You suddenly zoned out, is something the matter?" Meeting the concerned gaze in the bearded man's eyes, Howard couldn't help but look away. He can't possibly make Philip worry right now, considering his mental state after being imprisoned on the island.
"I'm fine, just tired." He lied through his teeth. "What happened after I passed out?"
Maude sighed, knowing well how his dear friend looked when lying. All those years spent together, from when they were children to college had taught Philip how to read Howard's expressions. Still, better buy it than stressing him out further.
Apparently, Howard was arrested upon reaching mainland. Montgomery had reported him, but Angelique managed to bail him out. And well, she even secured him a place at her lab. What a deal, huh? Philip himself even signed up for therapy, either it or the asylum. He chose the former, obviously.
Howard kept his head slightly tilted as he listened, occasionally glancing up at the man in blue as he rambled. Oh how he missed him...
"Since you can't property take care of yourself in this state, you can stay with me for the time being." Philip suggested, "it's not like we are unfamiliar with each other after all those...well, um." Their ears burned as the words settled in, and both looked away for a moment.
"Pffft, fine." Plunkett chuckled. He had to admit, Philip looked adorable right now. Perhaps he could ignore that strange voice in his head. I was probably hallucinating, he assumed.
Hopefully.
.
.
.
The rain rattled softly on the roof of Philip's apartment. The interior was meticulously upkept, thanks to Howard, as the man claimed. He then limped to the bed set up in the guest room and had his back prodded up.
"Comfortable?" The bearded man puffed up a pillow before placing it under his friend's casted leg and smiled when he received a confirmation. "Well then, call me if you need anything."
The room fell silent once more, leaving room for Howard to finally looked over himself. He reached into the bedside table. It should be here, he grunted softly, trying to feel with the tip of his fingers.
There it is.
A hand mirror was brought out. Quite dusty, indeed, but it was enough to see himself.
Howard squinted at his own reflection. "What the?" He slowly trailed his fingers along his cheeks, then up to his bangs and parted them.
A triangle.
Embeded into the middle of his forehead was a scar. A triangular one. Gosh, he didn't even remember getting that. Plunkett let out a grumble as he rubbed its surface.
Pleased with your actions, mortal?
That voice again., the dark haired man winced. He frowned at his reflection, voice strained from the pain. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
The voice cackled, as if amused.
You don't know, Plunkett? Your febble attempt to put me back to sleep went haywired, and now we are trapped in your mind.
Howard's ears rang, and he clutched his head. And before he could process the turn of events, blood began to drip down his nose, soon followed by an excruciating pain, as if his skull was being sawed open.
"U-ugh...!" He grunted and covered his ears in vain. The Great Old One's voice echoed, carrying a mocking undertone.
You must be out of your mind back then, mortal. I showed you the past, the present, and the future, every possible choice you could make, every outcome you could receive. And yet, you made this mistake.
The man in brown gritted his teeth from the pain. "Shut up! You're lying!" He shouted, hugging his head as blood kept pouring from his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut, and there it was, in the back of his failing mind, a shadow so vast, with stars woven into its skin and tentacles writhing neneath its maw.
This is but a mild inconvenience for me. Your lifespan is limited, and once you've used it up, there will be nothing stopping me.
Plunkett screamed in agony, covering his eyes. They flashed a golden, and he watched in horror as his left pupil warped, becoming a slit like that of a feline, before splitting into multiple irises and ultimately merged back to one.
A mere demonstration of the futility of your prison, Howard. Or should I call you
My Vessel?
Howard felt shivers creeping up his spine from the words. Oh, what will he do now? He can't possibly get Philip or Angelique involved in this mess again. Especially his beloved friend, his mental can't take yet another shock!
Gosh, I wish I was dead then...
Quick footsteps broke his line of thoughts. Philip's coming! And before he could gather himself, the door was bursted open.
"Howard, what happened?!" The bearded man sprinted in, hands barely dry. He must be cooking, Plunkett assumed, getting caught up in himself again. "I heard you scream, and–OH MY GOD." Philip reached out and wiped the crimson from his friend's face, the gesture tender, yet frantic.
"You're bleeding so much!" Howard only absentmindedly nodded, too bothered by the presence in his brain. In the next few minutes, he was getting patched up, with a tissue up his nose to control the flow. "Did you hit your head? Was there an injury we don't know about?"
Philip's questions fell into background noises when Howard's eyes glazed over. The golden shade was gone, but not the ache. Does his friend hear that voice? Does he know anything? Howard couldn't be sure of the possibility.
He had to take the risk.
"Phil...do you hear anything?"
Maude looked up from the med kit, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't hear anything, Howie.", there was a slight tremble in the last bit of his denial. "You must be too tired."
"Y-yeah...yeah." Howard mumbled, almost delirious now. His vision spun, dizziness finally took a toll on his physique. Even himself wasn't sure if it was because of the eldritch being in his head, or the piling effect of bloodloss from the flowers on Greatmaw Isle coupled with the nosebleed he was currently having.
And with a panicked shriek from Philip Maude, he fell unconscious. "HOWARD!" The bearded man abandoned his tools and rushed to his friend's side, using his fingertips to check for a pulse and indicator of a steady breath.
.
.
.
Howard Plunkett woke up to the familiar beeping sound. He was hospitalized, again.
With a soft grunt, he pushed himself to sit up in order to have a good look. On the small couch in the corner was Philip, who was slumbed over in an odd position, dark eyebags visible on his face. That's a horrible posture, he thought, he's gonna complain about back pain when he wakes up. Howard almost chuckle, before bitterness took a grip on him.
Poor Philip, he probably stayed up late caring for me...
I'm such a burden...
Wise words, Vessel.
The Great Old One truly had a way with words, Howard rolled his eyes. Having an attitude now might result in him getting his head blown clean off. Yet, he couldn't help, it was their fault anyway.
"Howard, who are you talking to?"
The feminine voice brought him back to reality and finally register the figure standing at the foot of his bed. Angelique, the researcher he freed from doctor Morose's labs, the one who helped him from lawsuits and even secured a dream job for him. Now, she came for a visit.
"Um...no one?" Howard nervously laughed as the dark skinned woman squinted at him, obviously not buying it. "Really!, I was just exhausted and fainted!"
A bright mind, indeed. How long will it take until she figures it out?
The entity commented. Unnecessary and annoying, he was sure of that.
"I'm not so sure, my friend." Angelique sighed, her slime arm reaching out and made a grab for the pills on the counter, checking the prescription. "You could use some paracetamol.", she claimed, putting everything back in its place.
She took a glance at Philip, who was still snoring, "he's been taking care of you for a few days, so I'll take his place while he got home and rest." She offered, her tone leaving no room for rejection. "You're good with that, Howard?"
He nodded, reluctantly.
How amusing.
Shut your mouth!, Howard lost his patience and yelled in his head, I want you gone this instance! His reply was a laughter, cruel and entertained.
I can't be "gone", mortal. I exist not because you find me, because I simply am.
I am, I was, and therefore, I will be.
I am present beyond the flow of time that will inevitably lead to your death. I am–
Their voice was abruptly interrupted by Howard pinching his arm, causing a distorted yelp. Big words for something who need to rely on their vessel., he grinned, mocking right back at the eldritch being.
WHAT do you think you are doing, you isolent little gnat?!
Hearing the Great Old One lose its composure brought the tiniest bit of satisfaction to Plunkett's face, "Just testing the water. So you can actually feel what I am feeling.", he thought to use it against the entity. To restrain it.
As if.
If this works, maybe I could kick them out. I can finally be free of this pain!
But what if it doesn't work?
Then they will go down with me. I can't possibly risk unleashing them to the world. Those innocent people will be doomed! I will do whatever it takes.
Even if it costs my life.
"Howard!"
Angelique's stern voice brought him back to his senses. The woman had a hand on his wrist, glaring with concern at the red mark on his arm. "Why would you do that?!" she questioned, applying a soothing gel to the area. "I know you are still stressed, but you do THIS too?"
"You are going to therapy with Philip after this." The woman stated with certainty.
You idiot. This will fix nothing.
You can keep harming yourself, while I am untouchable.
That mocking tone..., Howard huffed, trying to ignore the presence and focus on the researcher. He can't wait to work with her. But will she still take him in with this state? Will they ruin his career and life?
"Look, Howard," Angelique sighed, placing a hand on the dark haired man's knee "we will help you recover, only then can you head to the lab. I promise you the position, and I will preserve it for you.", she reassured.
"Still, we need to address your injuries."
She parted his bangs, revealing the triangle scar. "We can just ignore this one, it's not very concerning, and maybe can become your signature." She giggled at her light-hearted joke, an attempt to alleviate the atmosphere. "But this, however."
The woman squinted as she shone a small flashlight into Howard's eyes, nothing the strange hue. "You must have injured yourself somehow. Your eyes have a golden undertone when they meet light."
Howard felt his heart tightening at her words. She noticed... What will that entity do to her? He can't fathom the outcome.
Observant, I like that.
"Don't even think about it!" Howard yelled, before realizing that he had said it out loud. "Angie, I-I'im sorry, I wasn't yelling at you."
Angelique narrowed her eyes, "It's fine, I understand you're traumatized by the events. Hallucination is a common thing." she stated, as if it was merely a matter of fact.
She doesn't know..., he thought, that's good for her.
.
.
.
The night arrived as quickly as he sun set, and in the span of minutes, darkness swallowed the clinic whole. Howard curled up on the bed, his shoulders trembling as he gazed into the hallway. He was never a fan of darkness. At home, he could just leave the lights on to ease himself. But in the hospital, light is limited at this hour. Somebody, perhaps a nurse or a doctor, will put the lights out in just a few hours. It's to let the patients rest, he knows. He just couldn't bear being engulfed by it.
He can't imagine what he would do to himself. Maybe he would go mad and attack someone, maybe he will-
The lights went out, one by one. The dark haired man gripped into the mattress as he watched darkness creeping up to his room.
"No no no no no, please no..." He whispered in vain, and the room was swallowed in black.
I sense fear, Vessel.
Ugh..., he scoffed, What do you want now? Just annoying me, or gonna help?
The triangle on his forehead emitted a golden glow, flickering like the abdomen of a firefly. That seemed to ease Howard, even just for a moment.
You know I can grant you anything. You just need to beg.
"How about never?" Plunkett snapped back, and was immediately hit by the hammering in his head.
Foolish mortal.
To reject the gift of knowledge is to deny my divinity. Had you embraced it, you will ascend to absolute! To be more! You could surpass ordinary humans, you will be above all!
"No."
Howard shook his head. "I don't want to be any of that."
What?
"I want to be human. The limited, weak human." He struggled to form the words, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he fought the nauseating throb in his brains and the madness from being exposed to darkness. "Mortality is what makes us precious..."
I want to live.
I want to feel.
I want to learn.
I want
Philip.
How amusing. I'm almost fond.
Very well. Let us see how you survive.
Howard was left in complete silence. The Great Old One finally stopped talking for once. A heavy sigh left his mouth as he slumped over, violently trembling between sobs.
"O-ough..." He hiccuped, wiping away the red that he just now noticed pouring from his nose.
A golden glow shone onto the blanket, and Howard blinked in confusion, "what the?", he checked for a light source, but there was nothing but himself. Upon rubbing his eyes, he noticed something
They were the ones glowing.
What the hell.
I bestowed upon you, a fraction of my divinity.
What a "gift"., Plunkett thought, sarcasm heavy in his tone. "You gave me headlights like a car." He grunted under his breath, "at least it has something to do with my fear...I guess."
"Can I use your powers?"
Yes, at the cost of your humanity if the will is weak.
What.
...
Sitting alone now in the dimly lit room, he can't help but let his mind wander. Angelique would come over tomorrow to take care of him, Philip too, he knows that guy too well.
How will they react when he opens up about the situation? He can't just start the conversation with "I accidentally trapped a god in my head.".
Phil wouldn't be able to handle the news...
Oh Philip...
"What should I do now...?"