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Greatmaw Isle crumbled one by one under Philip Maude's feet as he sprinted towards the Hellevator. The air was crisp, lingering with the stench of fresh blood.
Howard's blood.
He lay limp in Philip's arms, a trail of crimson trailed from his crushed leg like a bright silken rope. He couldn't bear to look at it. Too much.
I should have followed, you shouldn't have gone alone... He gritted his teeth, finding tears in his eyes.
"Just a bit more..." The bearded man inhaled sharply, his lungs burning from the exhaustion. "Please..." They finally reached land, and Phil made his way to the dock...
He stopped dead in his tracks as he witnessed a horrific scene: Montgomery's hull had been broken in two. The pink in his face drained one by one, until pale was the only remaining shade when the ship was swallowed by the unforgiving waves.
Philip took a sharp inhale, his grip on Howard never quavered. "Oh...god," he frantically looked around, hoping for whatever remained of a boat. But to his disappointed, there was none. "This must be the Doctor's doing..."
His worst suspicion was confirmed when a disgustingly wet tentacle slither up to him. "You think that I have lost my mind." Doctor Morose growled, his face shadowed by the hood of his scarlet-stained robe, "you think I've gone stark-raving-mad, when I only want what I once had." The doctor's voice boomed, laced with anger and accusation, "YOU of all people, should understand that..."
"UNLIKE THAT IDIOT IN THE BROWN HAT!"
He took a step, or rather, slid forward, making the man in blue recoil. Now cornered, Philip gazed to his back. The ravenous sea below roared, as if hungry to take him whole.
Will this be my end? Our end?
I have so much unfinished matters
I have...
Howard
I...
The tension between them was broken by a shriek. Not from Thomas, and neither from Plunkett, who was still out cold. Then, he saw a yellow beak from the corner of his eyes. It was Nessie, who'd grabbed Morose's slimy body. He writhed and screamed, as she tore and ripped. She slammed him to the ground one final time, and everything went quiet, aside from the crunch of crushed bones and the tear of flesh.
Philip looked away, to give one last respect to whoever the Doctor was before he gave his sanity away. "Goodbye, Morose. I hope you rot in hell..." He mumbled under his breath. And just in that moment, the beast turned her head towards him, a glint evident in her eyes.
But it wasn't death that awaited him, as Nessie licked his face. "Woah!" Maude yelped, half taken aback by the sudden friendliness. The golden furred creature let out a satisfied trill, her mood might have gotten better after she'd had her fill.
Howard stirred in his arms, half awake, yes, but not fully conscious. "We heading home?", his words slurred, delirious from bloodloss and aftershocks.
"Yes Howie, let's get you back home."
Philip confirmed, before placing a light kiss on his dear friend's forehead. Howard giggled for a bit, and fell back to unconsciousness. He won't remember a thing, the bearded man thought, as Nessie gave him a nudge.
"Want a ride?" As if she had said, and the two stepped off, onto her back.
Upon reaching mainland, they were greeted by an angry mob. Apparently, Howard committed theft to be ship he had boarded. Montgomery's ship, that's the one forever left on the seafloor. The man in brown was woken up by the noise, and despite his state, he still tried to reason. His speech were unclear and stuck together, as he struggled to form words.
"He's injured, he can't deal with this at this moment!" Philip pulled the man behind him, placing himself between him and the crowd. "Check Greatmaw island, it will give you the answer to why he did so!" He argued, trying to advert their attention.
"What doctor Maude stated is true!", a voice sounded from among the gathering people.
Angelique stepped out, sweat beading on her forehead, as if she had sprinted here as soon as she caught wind of their arrival. She showed them her ID, and evidence of the atrocities on the Isle. Philip took a sigh of relief, knowing they'd make their way to the truth.
"I'll deal with his lawsuits, get Howard to the clinic." The dark skinned woman offered, glancing at the now fainting lad.
He was stubborn, indeed. Despite being in a grave state, he was still trying to explain himself. Maude rolled his eyes, accepting the nature of his beloved.
.
.
.
The sterilized lights of the hospital sent chills down Philip's spine as he sat in the hallway. Just like in the labs, he pondered, eyes fixed on a corner he picked to stare. The light of the emergency room blinked red for a moment, before shifting to a comfortable green.
Howard is safe, he can rest assured now. He felt as if a tremendous weight had been taken off his shoulders.
Plunkett was settled in a room with a window facing the horizon. Howard would love this, he loves the stars. The bearded man sighed and chuckled, then he sat down by the bed.
He could see his beloved friend's features up close now. Whose face never once blurred in the span of eight years. He had thought about the man in every waking moment, wondering about his well-being. He knew he would be worry, when he didn't reply to his letter. He was influenced then, Phillip had to admit, to be fiercely loyal to Morose's purpose. He had done unspeakable things, and maybe, he will soon go mad from the weight of his sins.
He tentatively brushed Howard's hair aside to see his resting face. Maude's smile softened, when he gazed upon the distinct features of his friend. All those unspoken nights they had back in their youngs taught him to cherish every smallest thing. And now, when he finally had a clear view, Philip's eyebrows furrowed at a new presence...
A scar.
A triangle scar, to the precise.
He didn't know how long it had been there, nor how it happened. But Howard had it now, and that was undoubt. Philip's hands shook at the revelation, the colors once again drained from his already pale face. He had seen this symbol before.
From doctor Morose's underground labs, where he mourned for his deceased wife. In the city, where those abominations reside. He had seen them everywhere, those damned shapes, up in the sky, and embedded into the very structure of the facility itself.
But what occurred? How come such a thing exist on his beloved's head? Was it Morose's doing? Was Howard captured, and marked for a sacrifice? He couldn't explain. But the very possibility made his heart heavy with dread.
Perhaps, he could seek an answer, who whatever's left of the doctor's records. His mind could crumble, he was sure, albeit the strength of his will.
I should get help, thought Philip, maybe therapy is just what I need. To uncover the truth, one must have a strong mind, lest he risk being driven insane by the absolute.
.
.
.
Weeks had passed ever since Plunkett was hospitalized.
Maude was buried deep in stacks of documents, a frown fixed in his face as he noted down everything he could remember. There was not much to recover from the labs, as almost everything went down with the doctor's demise and the collapse of the city.
The triangle is a symbol associated with the Great Old Ones, he knew that, but what else lies beyond this?
The King's stone?
Philip shivered at the thought. Memories of its influence still fresh in his brain. He is aware of what he did, the crimes he had committed for the sake of bringing back Katie Lou. He missed her dearly, that is true.
He can't bear yet another loss.
A loud gasp had his attention, and he immediately tensed up. Howard is awake.
"Howard!"
The bearded man rushed in, finding his friend prodding himself up. His casted leg remained safely supported by the pile of pillows he had set up before.
"Phil..." Plunkett ultimately croaked, sounding dry as if he was dehydrated. "What happened...?”
Philip's hand extended, reassuringly patting his friend's, "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, never mentioning the scar or his research.
Howie would be worried sick if he finds out... He doesn't know what he got himself in...
Howard cracked a soft smile, a smile so small Philip would hardly noticed had he not paid attention.
"Well, um..." The man in blue's voice quieted down when he saw something strange: Howard had been zoning out while he was talking. He gazed into the distance, as if listening to something unseen.
Plunkett then frowned, his hands lightly gripping the bedsheets. Soft mumbles escaped his mouth as if cursing something.
"Howard? Howard!"
Philip grabbed his friend's shoulders and shook him back and forth, trying to bring him back to his senses. "Is something the matter? You just... stared."
His eyebrows furrowed further when he caught Howard glancing away. "I'm fine, just tired...", he replied, then immediately switch to another topic, "what happened while I passed out?"
Something's wrong.
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. He remembered holding his beloved in his arms one winter night, feeling his warmth nestled against his chest. They had promised to never lie to one another, to ensure that the other is safe.
Still, better buy it than stressing him out further.
"Well, Montgomery found out what you did and you nearly got arrested." He sat beside the bed, subconsciously fiddling with his hands. His gaze adverted to the documents he had hidden outside the room. No, I shouldn't tell him about my works...
Philip took another deep inhale, "don't worry, me and Angelique dealt with it. And guess what? She's willing to have you as a member of her lab!" He chuckled, genuinely glad for his friend.
"What about you, Phil?" Howard tilted his head and blinked up at him, eyes shimmering in what Philip can interpret as glee.
"I went to see a therapist. It's either that, or I'll be put into the asylum for the rest of my life." The man in blue chuckled, trying to alleviate his situation. He wouldn't want Howard to freak out.
A moment of silence stretched between them, as they were both busy gazing into each other's eyes. Adoration? Longing? Yearn? Philip couldn't tell, nor did he ever want to guess. He can't risk offending Plunkett right now.
Especially when there were things they refused to talk about...
"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.
"Pfff, fine." Plunkett chuckled, his eyes glinted. The bearded man could feel blood rushing to his face as soon as he caught a glimpse of those hazel eyes turning into crescents. Captivated, perhaps. He didn't even know what had gotten into him.
He finally smiled. That's good.
.
.
.
The rain rattled softly on the roof of Philip's apartment when they settled down. Howard had been going on and on for the past thirty minutes about how he had come over every week to clean up and to keep his friend's greedy relatives from selling off the property.
And he bought every word. Just look at the state of the interior, everything was meticulously upkept as if Maude never left. Like it was still yesterday that he left the place. It is true that Howard cared, enough to make it a testament that Phil would feel welcomed when he returned home.
The man in blue helped his best friend to the bed in the guest room, and positioned his injured leg on a puffed pillow. "Comfortable?" He tilted his head, and let out an exhale of relief when he received a nod from the dark haired man, indicating a confirmation. "Well then, call me if you need anything."
Philip closed the door behind him. And his gaze became sharp once more when he brought out his personal log book and wrote down his observations.
"He seems to be unaware, at least for now." The man mumbled to himself, while nothing a few symptoms. Mild dementia, post-trauma response, possible heachache...
I need to keep an eye on him.
He put the notebook away at last, there was a more important matter to attend to: dinner. As a matter of fact, Howard could never cook. All of his past attempts resulted in either "man-made fossil fuel", as Philip once joked; or firemen being called. He almost bursted out laughing when he reminisced about that one time Howard showed up, so proud of himself when he presented what appeared to be the carcass of a salmon, barely cooked, but not exactly live for any dish known to humanity.
A sick guy's gotta have something warm to aid his recovery.
Maude rummaged to the groceries to find a mackerel. pescatarian, huh? He thought to himself, and got to work.
.
.
.
Philip barely turned off the stove when Howard's scream rang throughout the building. "Howard!" He immediately sprinted down the hallway to bursted into his room, expecting the worst. What if he fell and injured himself?
"I heard you scream, and-OH MY GOD."
Before his eyes was Plunkett, hair a mess and clutching his head. He could swear on his soul that, in a moment, he saw a golden shimmer in his beloved's eyes. Howard finally looked up, revealing the trail of crimson running down his nose.
Philip carefully reached out and wiped the blood, the gesture tender yet frantic. His hands trembled slightly, when he took the med kit nearby and took care of the bleeding, "are you okay? You are bleeding so much!", he expected an answer, but Howard only nod once, and absentmindedly gazed into the distance. "Did you hit your head? Was there an injury we don't know about?"
"Phil...do you hear anything?"
Maude looked up from the med kit, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "l don't hear anything, Howie.", there was a slight tremble in the last bit of his denial. "You must be too tired."
Philip didn't hear, but he did, in fact, see. Should I tell him about that gold flash in his eyes? Would that make it worse for him? Might be an eye injury.
Howard swayed for a moment, before his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fainted. "HOWARD!" The curly haired man shrieked and abandoned his tools to rush to his friend's side. His fingers immediately went to his neck, checking for any pulse.
"Hospital...we're going back to the hospital!" He frantically scooped the limp figure into his arms.
.
.
.
The clinic was quieter at night, when Howard was assigned a room to rest. The situation was not anything to concern, the doctor had said, but it didn't make Philip feel any relief. He had informed Angelique about the event, and she would come over to take a look.
Him, on the other hands, also had matters to attend to. He reached for the documents in his bag, and scanned through again. The Great Old Ones, Greatmaw island, "Slor-keedth", anything he managed to recover from the ruins. There should be a clue for his situation.
Plunkett stirred in his bed, a soft whine escaped him. Maude didn't know what came over him in that moment, but he slumped over, pretending to be asleep.
There he is, talking to himself again.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. "Howard, who are you talking to?" There is Angelique. She came just on time.
"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!"
"I'm not so sure, my friend." She dismissed, her slime arm made a grab for the meds on the counter, checking the descriptions. "It's alright so far."
She took a glance at Philip, who was still snoring, well, presumably, "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?"
Maude didn't see the reply, but he was sure his friend agreed.
The next thing he heard was Angelique shouting. He's probably mumbling again...
"Howard!
Angelique's stern voice cut through the atmosphere. The woman had a hand on Plunkett's wrist, glaring with concern at the red marks on his arm. "Why would you do that?!" she questioned, applying a soothing gel to the area. "l know you are still stressed, but you do THIS too?"
"you are going to therapy with Philip after this" The woman stated with certainty.
Philip cracked an eye open at the mentioned of his name. None of them had noticed him, but he saw something: redness, on Howard's arm. He had pinched and scratched himself, and Maude's face paled as he realized the severity of the situation.
"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."
Ah, she noticed that, too. That will help when we work towards a solution.
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Philip came again that late night. Can't help it, he knew Howard would be scared to death if he was left alone in total darkness without any light source. And he had to admit, the clinic is terrifying at night.
Upon reaching the room, he stopped at the door. There were noises inside, noises that weren't supposed to be there.
I sense fear, Vessel?
"Vessel"? Who is that? Who is Howard even talking to?
Maude hid behind the door, listening into the conversation. The mysterious voice spoke of power, of 'Ascension'. He heard his friend's voice strained, as if trying to hold back his sobs.
"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.
The voice left afterwards, leaving the room in complete silence. Howard sat alone, his shoulders heavy and slumped as he trembled. Tears flooded down his eyes like waterfalls.
Plunkett blinked through tears, his fingers lightly pressed against the 'scar' on his forehead. His eyes lit up in a golden hue, casting a glow onto the blanket in his grip.
"You gave me...what?" He whispered, questioning whatever presence that was still there.
Its power... The man in blue already had the answer.
And in that moment, Philip's worst suspicion was confirmed...
"The Great Old One...it's inside his head..."
Oh great heavens...
What will become of him now?
What do I do now?
I'll save him. Absolutely.
Even if I had to sell my soul for it.