After the D&D kerfuffle, Krockman was sitting across from the the mysterious psychiatrist at the kitchen table. Dr. Olan stared at Krockman, a look of curiosity on his face. “Soooooooo, uhh... Dr. Olan, was it?” Krockman asked halfheartedly. “Roquella says you’re a psychiatrist and a paranormal investigator. How does that work?” “Well it isn’t that hard to believe really,” Dr. Olan said in reply. “Being a paranormal investigator is more of a hobby if anything, but when I do investigate, I like to test every possible theory surrounding the subject. That way, I’m capable of forming a rational opinion on the subject in question rather than blindly believing in it or simple dismissing it as hokum.” Looking at the man warily, Krockman said, “So you’re a debunker who’s willing to believe in something until he proves otherwise... fascinating.” “Thank you,” Dr. Olan said with a pleased grin. 

“What I don’t understand is how you even know about me,” Krockman said in a confused tone. “Hell, most people can’t even see me unless I want them to.” “It isn’t that hard to piece together when you know what you’re looking for,” Dr. Olan explained. “Are you familiar with one Luciana Salazar?” Hearing this, a look of recollection crossed Krockman’s face. “Oh yeah, I remember her,” he said with a glint in his eye. “She was my old landlady back when I lived in New York (emphasis on ‘lived’).” “Well, I had an interesting encounter with her back in New York,” Dr. Olan continued. “She told me about a trip she took here to visit family. Not only did she see a large majority of the populace had transformed into fantasy creatures, but that her deceased tenant was running around town, breathing gouts of golden fog on people to cause the transformations. Naturally, I was curious, so I checked out some newsfeed in Seattle to see if this was true. Lo and behold, I saw the newscaster was a troll. After that, I had to see you for myself.” “Well, you’re here now, and you’ve seen me,” Krockman snarked. “Now what?” 

Looking at the lost soul, Olan stroked his chin inquisitively, mulling over his next move. Finally, he answered, “I wish to observe you, in action I mean.” “Observe me?” Krockman asked in a perturbed tone. “That’s, uh... that’s a little creepy sounding man.” “Oh no, there’s no need to feel worried,” Dr. Olan assured. “I am merely doing this for the sake of satisfying my curiosity.” Drumming his fingers on the table as he thought it over, Krockman sighed as he said, “Fine, I have an appointment over in West Virginia. If you want, you can come along. I just need to get my entourage ready first.” “Very well then,” Dr. Olan said politely. “This should be interesting.” 

Out in the hallway, Chad, Chelsea, Lana, and Roquella were busily waiting as Krockman and Dr. Olan were talking. Impatiently tapping her foot on the ground and flicking her tail, Chelsea asked, “How long are they going to be in there? Why did they have to kick us out of our own apartment to talk?” “I don’t know,” Chad said solemnly. “To be honest, I’m afraid for the psychiatrist. God knows what’s going on in Krockman’s head. Peering inside there would be like looking into the abyss.” “I wouldn’t say it’s that bad,” Roquella interjected. “It’s a little scary, but it’s not that bad.” Lana only smirked at this, saying, “Well of course you’d say that. You’re marrying him.” Roquella only shrugged her shoulders in agreement. 

Suddenly, the door to the apartment opened, revealing Krockman and Dr. Olan. “Well, we’ve come to an agreement,” Krockman said matter of factly. “The doc’s gonna be joining me on my next job, along with whoever I can find.” Looking around, Krockman asked, “Where’d Alucard go? Wasn’t he just here?” “He went back home to clear out the flowers,” Roquella answered. “As for me, the girls and I are heading out for a bachelorette party.” Looking surprised, Chelsea asked, “Wait, really? Including us?” “Of course. I feel like we’ve gotten close over the past few weeks,” Roquella explained before leaning in towards the troll girl and whispering, “Besides, it’s probably best to stay as far away from Krockman as possible as long as that psychiatrist is with him.” Chelsea only nodded in agreement, realizing what’s going to happen. 

“Well that’s a shame,” Krockman said as he stroke his chin. “I could bring Chad along, maybe even Misfit, but who else?” “What about Z-Wrap?” Roquella suggested thoughtfully. “He hasn’t been back to the mortal realm since he finished his earthly business. Hell, he hardly ever leaves his safes these days.” “I’m sorry, his ‘safe’?” Chad asked in a confused tone. “Is that a metaphor for something?” “No, he really does hang out in safes,” Krockman answered. “It’s sort of a holdover from when he died, suffocating in a safe after a botched bank job. He does everything in safes these days, counting money, private reading... jerking off... oh god, I hope he’s not in his jerk off safe right now.” “Only one way to find out,” Roquella said as she snapped her fingers, causing a safe to fall from the ceiling. As everyone stared at the safe in shock, the door opened up, revealing an emaciated young man with a missing eye and several missing teeth, his brown hair an utter mess. He was holding a calculator, having been in the middle of creating a budget. “Oh thank god, its his CFO safe,” Krockman sighed in a satisfied tone. 

Staring up at the group with his one orange-glowing eye, Z-Wrap asked, “Oh my lord, where the hell am I now?” “Sup Z-Wrap,” Krockman said enthusiastically. “How’s it going?” “How’s it going?” Z-Wrap asked indignantly. “I was in the middle of working out the budget for the next five weeks when my budgeting safe was unceremoniously dropped in the middle of some third class apartment, like seriously, who lives in this piece of crap?” Looking offended, Chelsea retorted, “We live here you douche.” Glancing over towards the troll girl, Z-Wrap simply said, “Oh, well in that case, my condolences. Now can someone explain to me what the hell is going on?” “Simple, we’re heading to West Virginia to deal with a client,” Krockman explained. “You game?” “That depends,” Z-Wrap said in reply. “Do I get to royally fuck someone over in a spectacular fashion?” Krockman simply nodded in reply, saying, “Yep.” “Okay, I’m in,” Z-Wrap said as he got out of the safe. Smiling at this, Roquella said, “Well, you boys seem to have things under control. Me and the girls will be on our way. See ya.” With that, Roquella, Chelsea and Lana vanished, leaving Krockman and the others behind. 

Looking over at the lead lost soul curiously, Dr. Olan asked, “Is that how lost souls normally make an exit?” “Only if we need to get somewhere quick,” Krockman answered. “Fascinating,” Olan said in an awed as he rubbed his chin. “Although, you did mention another fellow who’ll be joining us. A Mr. Misfit I believe. Will he be arriving soon?” Glancing over at the psychiatrist, Krockman retorted, “Why don’t you ask him yourself.” Confused by this, Olan looked around, only to be confronted by a strange, long nosed old man with glowing white eyes and a mouth filled with a mix of fangs and square teeth. Looking at the strange man carefully, Dr. Olan said, “I take it that you’re Misfit.” “That I am sir,” Misfit said in reply. “And who, dare I ask, are you?” “My name is Dr. Alexander Olan... psychiatrist,” Dr. Olan answered. “Krockman has agreed to let me come along with him on his trip to West Virginia.” “I see,” Misfit said judgingly before turning to Krockman. “Oh Krockman, just out of curiosity, how many more mortals are going to be privy to these little trips of yours?” “Hey, don’t look at me,” Krockman retorted defensively. “The doc figured things out on his own by putting two and two together. Honestly, considering how the afterlife is run by complete incompetents, it’s amazing this kind of stuff doesn’t happen more often.” Misfit tried to retort, but having taken a moment to think it over, he simply replied, “That’s... actually a pretty good point.” 

“Well then, I suppose that’s everyone who’s coming,” Dr. Olan said as he stroked his beard. “Shall we be going along then?” Before Krockman could answer, Z-Wrap screamed, “Let’s fuck em up!” and tackled the larger lost soul, causing the two of them to vanish. Looking on in confusion, Chad asked, “What the hell just happened?” “Typical,” Misfit muttered. “I get invited along on one of his ‘little trips’, and they both leave without me. Just typical.” “I take it they’re in West Virginia now,” Dr. Olan said, trying to make sense of what just happened. “Personally, I think you must have the patience of a saint to put up with those two on a daily basis.” Glancing over at the psychiatrist, Misfit smiled as he said, “I think I’m going to like you.” Wasting no time, Misfit opened up a portal with his finger, adding, “Well, no sense in wasting time. Might as well meet them there.” With that, the trio made their way through the portal, venturing forth to meet up with Krockman and Z-Wrap. 
——————

When they came out on the other side, Misfit, Chad, and Dr. Olan found themselves outside of a bar in a small town in West Virginia. In the distance, they could see a large forest, but it was what they saw down the street that really shocked them. It was a large statue of a winged humanoid creature made of some shiny metal with large red eyes. “Is... is that the mothman statue?” Dr. Olan asked in shock. “Are we in Point Pleasant? I mean, Krockman did say we were going to West Virginia, but I didn’t think we would be here in one of the most famous cryptid hotspots in America.” “I’m sorry, the mothman?” Misfit asked curiously. “What, pray tell, is that?” “The mothman is a creature that was sighted around this town back in the 60’s,” Dr. Olan explained. “It was described as a shadowy, humanoid bird-like creature with bright, glowing red eyes, almost like a giant owl.” Looking confused, Misfit asked, “If it’s described as bird-like, why is it called the mothman?” Thinking it over, a similar look of confusion crossed the psychiatrist’s face as he said, “I’m not sure actually.” 

Suddenly, a loud chorus of laughter burst forth from the bar, drawing in the group’s attention. “What the hell’s going on in there?” Chad asked in a confused tone. “I don’t know,” Misfit said in reply. “But I have a pretty good feeling we’re about to find out.” With that, the trio made their way into the bar, only to be confronted by an interesting sight. Standing in a small crowd was a young, ginger haired woman wearing a blue hoodie and a pair of glasses, busily rubbing her eyes as she held a voice recorder. And sitting across from her were Krockman and Z-Wrap, dressed in quite possibly the worst, hokiest looking bumpkin disguises anyone had ever seen. “Okay sir, I’m trying to be professional here,” the woman said to Krockman in an exasperated tone. “Could you please start over, and this time, give me something I can actually use in a podcast.” “Well it’s just like I told y’all, missy,” Krockman said in reply in the lousiest southern accent ever conceived. “I was out huntin with my dipshit brother, Lester, here, and we saw a mothman come flyin right at us, and we shot him right in the goddamn face. That’s the third cryptid we killed this week, goddamn it. Government ought to get on top of this.” Face palming in frustration, the woman continued, “Okay, okay, is there anything else you’d like to add?” “Well, we did ran over another mothman on the drive back home,” Z-Wrap interjected in an equally god awful accent. “He got up though, so he was either a mothman or a regular man. Either way, he seemed real pissed when he saw us drive off.” The woman only rolled her eyes at this. 

Looking at the woman curiously, Dr. Olan said, “Good Lord, could that be her?” “Who?” Chad asked, confused by the psychiatrist’s interest. “That’s Nicole Sanders,” Olan explained. “She’s the host of ‘Into the Unknown’. It’s a popular podcast that talks about paranormal happenings. Cryptids, hauntings, mysterious artifacts, those sort of things.” “Impressive,” Misfit said in awe, placing a finger to his chin before asking, “What are podcasts?” “They’re like radio shows for the modern era,” Dr. Olan answered. “If you’re interested, I can recommend a few for you to listen to later.” Smiling at this, Misfit said, “Thank you for that. I very much appreciate it.” “No need to mention it,” Dr. Olan said before making his way over to the interview. 

When he arrived, Dr. Olan cleared his throat a bit before saying, “Excuse me miss, but are you Nicole Sanders?” Looking up at the doctor, the young woman said, “Yes, that’s me, and you are...” “Dr. Alexander Olan... psychiatrist,” Dr. Olan answered. “I’m a big fan of your podcast.” “Oh, well it’s always nice to meet a fan,” Nicole said in reply, feeling flattered. “Although, If you have any questions for me, would you mind saving them for later? I’m in the middle of an interview and the assholes I’m interviewing are being difficult.” Hearing this, Krockman only smiled, getting up and taking off his disguise as he said, “Oh trust me, Nikki, I can be a lot more difficult than you realize.” Seeing the uncovered Krockman, Nicole looked on in shock as she said, “Oh my god, Cooper? I... I... what the hell?” “I’m sorry, do you know Krockman?” Dr. Olan asked curiously. “Well I should,” Nicole retorted. “He’s my ex boyfriend.” When she said this, an awkward silence hung heavily in the bar. 

Finally, Krockman broke the silence by saying, “It’s nice to see you again Niki... you’ve lost weight.” “Thank you for noticing,” Nicole said in reply. “Although, I’m surprised to see you here of all places. What are you doing in West Virginia anyway?” “What am I doing here?” Krockman asked incredulously. “Last time I saw you, you were hanging out in the finest coffee shops in Manhattan. Now you’re trolling through bars in West Virginia?” “Well it makes sense for me, considering I run a paranormal podcast and Point Pleasant is one of the most famous towns in the field,” Nicole explained. “You, on the other hand, basically dropped off the map ever since you got fired from HBO. Seriously, where the hell have you been this whole time?” “If you must know, I’ve spent the past few months doing various odd jobs for people,” Krockman explained. “I’ve started my own business, got engaged, I’m doing pretty good for myself. In fact, you actually hired me on my website, said you needed help finding mothman.” “Seriously? That was a real website?” Nicole asked. “I only did that as a joke. I didn’t think it was actually real.” Casting a side glance towards the woman, Misfit interjected, “And the fact that it was ran by your ex boyfriend didn’t raise any flags?” Ignoring the old man, Nicole continued, “Well, if you’re serious, then maybe you can help me.” “You know what, I think I will,” Krockman said politely. “And because of our past, I won’t even charge you for it. Now go get your stuff together and we’ll meet you in the woods.” Hearing this, Nicole smiled in a satisfied way as she left the bar. 

When Nicole had left, the rest of the group cast a side glance towards Krockman, concerned looks crossing their faces. Finally noticing the looks, Krockman indignantly asked, “What?” “Well Krockman, uh, we couldn’t help but notice something odd about your ex,” Chad answered nervously. “More specifically, the fact that she doesn’t seem to know you’re, well... dead.” “Yeah, so?” Krockman said nonchalantly. “So? What do you mean ‘so’?” Chad retorted in shock. “You two did date, right? How does she not know that you shot yourself?” “It’s really not that difficult,” Krockman explained. “Me and the other Seven New Gods actually attended our own funerals, sort of making our peace with our families. We used a sort of magic to convince people that us attending our own funerals was normal. I just used that same magic to deal with Niki.” “So you attended your own funeral, and no one batted an eye. Fascinating,” Dr. Olan said in awe. “But still, it seems rather strange that she wouldn’t even know that you died. How does she not know?” Looking awkward, Krockman replied, “Yeah, she doesn’t actually know that I killed myself. She actually broke up with me after I got fired.” When he had said that, the room grew awkwardly quiet, only for it to be broken when Z-Wrap said, “Holy shit.” 

When night fell, Nicole was patiently waiting in the middle of the woods, tapping her foot as she checked the time. Suddenly, she heard the sound of leaves rustling as if a large group of people were walking their way towards her. Looking closer, she saw that it was Krockman and the others making their way through the forest. “Well look who finally decided to show up,” Nicole said, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re late.” “Yeah, sorry about that,” Krockman said as he arrived, carrying a small sack over his shoulder. “We just had to get some supplies before we got here.” Having said this, Krockman held out the sack for Nicole to look inside, only for her to be disappointed by what she saw. “This is just a bag full of cosmic brownies,” the hostess said in an unamused tone. “How is this necessary?” “We’re on a stakeout, aren’t we?” Krockman asked in reply. “Well you got to have rations for a stakeout, and damn it, that’s what I’ve brought.” Looking skeptically at the lost soul, Nicole asked, “Cosmic brownies?” “I like cosmic brownies,” Krockman said curtly. 

“Right, well then, let’s get started shall we,” Dr. Olan said enthusiastically as he pushed the matter of cosmic brownies to the side. “First thing’s first, we need to set up some cover to conceal ourselves. That way if anything comes by, we can easily observe it without scaring it off.” “And what exactly do we use for cover?” Misfit asked curiously. Thinking it over, Olan answered, “Well, if we had some chicken wire, we could gather some branches and leaves to make a blind. It’s a shame we forgot to pick some up while we were back in town though.” Hearing this, Misfit reached behind him and pulled out a long sheet of chicken wire. “Well that’s fortuitous,” the psychiatrist said, not even questioning where the lost soul had found the chicken wire. “Let’s get the blind ready. You set the wire up and, I’ll gather the leaves.” Staring on in shock, Nicole asked, “Where the hell was he keeping that?” “It’s best not to question these things. Trust me, I know,” Krockman said in reply. 

As they watched the older men build the blind, Chad whispered to Krockman, “Should we be helping them or something? I feel kind of awkward just watching them work.” “Nah, they got this covered,” Krockman said nonchalantly. After that, there was a long awkward silence that hung in the air, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the tearing of plastic as Krockman unwrapped a cosmic brownie. Looking at the brownie, Krockman turned to Z-Wrap and asked, “Hey Z, you know what I don’t understand?” “I don’t know, what?” Z-Wrap asked in reply. “Out of shape fitness instructors that still go into work,” Krockman answered. “What’s even their strategy at that point? Do they just go up to people and be like, ‘I used to be fit, now I’m fat. You don’t want to end up like me. The only machine I use is the vending machine. Hey, do you wanna go halvsies on a cosmic brownie? Those things are awesome.’” 

Casting a side glance at Krockman, Nicole asked, “Seriously, what’s with you and cosmic brownies?” “Hey, cosmic brownies are awesome, period. They’re just so fucking good,” Krockman retorted. “The only problem is that they’re too small to enjoy for long.” Hearing this, Z-Wrap said, “Hey, million dollar idea: we open up a company that sells giant versions of Little Debbie cakes and call it ‘Big Debbie’.” “Oh yeah, I can actually hear the ad for it,” Krockman said excitedly as he added in a husky voice, “Hi, I’m Big Debbie and together with my line of protein packed snack cakes, we’re gonna blast the crap out of your big ass hunger. My cosmic brownies are the size of a fucking laptop. Alright, let’s do this! Open up motherfucker!” Chuckling at this, Z-Wrap added, “Our jacked swiss cake rolls are packed with protein for big boys! And the mascot for that is this big, ripped Mr. Universe looking fucker dressed in lederhosen.” “Oh hey, I got one, I got one,” Chad interjected as he stifled laughter. “Hey asshole, you gonna eat these Nutty Buddy’s or are you gonna drink some unsweetened tea like a little bitch?” As they were laughing, Krockman added, “It’s Christmas time motherfuckers! Try one of our Christmas tree shaped things, only it’s a real pine tree stuffed with protein!” “Yeah! Eat it you cowards!” Chad shouted ecstatically. “Are you afraid?! You should be! What, you afraid there isn’t enough protein?” Trust me, they all got fucking protein, baby!” “Yeah! Get SWOL!” Krockman added. “But please continue to support my granddaughter, Little Debbie. I’m so proud of her small business.” The three men cackled at this, all while Nicole watched on in confusion. 

After the laughter subsided, Misfit and Dr. Olan came up to the little group, satisfied looks on their faces. “Well, the blind’s finished,” Misfit said in a proud tone. “I feel like we did a rather nice job of it if I do say so myself.” Looking over at the blind, the group was impressed to see the completed blind, looking like a very convincing bush. “Wow, that’s very... bush-like,” Krockman said as a confused thought crossed his mind. “But one thing I don’t understand is what’s the point of the blind. I mean, we’re doing this for a podcast, right? What exactly are we recording for this thing that we need a blind for it?” “That’s not your concern, Cooper,” Nicole retorted in an annoyed tone. Hearing this, Z-Wrap thought it over for a bit before cracking a wicked smile and saying, “Maybe she wants to bone mothman and the whole podcast is just an excuse to get close to him.” Absolutely shocked by this, Nicole could barely say anything before Krockman shouted, “Oh my god, I could totally see that!” Cackling at this, Z-Wrap said in a nasally, high pitched voice, “Hey Niki, what’re you doing in your room? We haven’t seen you for hours.” “Uh, nothing mom!” Krockman shouted in a feminine voice. “Just looking up mothman on my laptop!” “Oh, well come on down when you’re done,” Z-Wrap said while stifling a giggle. “It’s movie night. We’re gonna watch the Mothman Prophecies.” “Oh Christ!” Krockman cackled maniacally. 

As the two lost souls were cackling at their own stupidity and Nicole stared on in stunned silence, Chad noticed that Misfit was intently observing the conversation. “Hey Misfit,” Chad said. “You look like you’re thinking about something. What’s on your mind?” “Well, I was just thinking about what Krockman and Z-Wrap are saying, about the girl and mothman,” Misfit explained. “What if, and hear me out, Nicole represents all that’s wrong with humanity, and mothman represents all that’s good about humanity. They’re both in a constant struggle due to his mothiness and her humaniness, but at the same time, she’s attracted to him because of his nature. However, despite this attraction, she realizes that their respective natures oppose each other in such a way that neither of them can truly consummate the relationship.” When Misfit had said this, everyone grew silent and stared at him in shock, even Krockman.

Blinking a bit, Krockman finally spoke, “Misfit, that has got to be the single most fucking insane thing I’ve ever heard come out of anyone’s mouth.” “And considering this is coming from Krockman, that’s really saying something,” Z-Wrap added, still shocked by what he heard. “I doubt it’s that strange,” Misfit said in reply, completely stone faced. “Are you kidding?” Krockman asked in disbelief. “Dude, you literally just created a goddamn, ass backwards religion based on some joke we pulled out of our asses about my ex wanting to fuck mothman.” “Yeah Misfit, I have to agree with Krockman on this one,” Chad chimed in. “I had, like, a dissociative episode just from trying to process what you just said. This feels like one of those urban legends where if you hear about it or talk about it, you’ll either go insane or drop dead.” Smirking at this, Misfit simply replied, “Well I don’t have to worry about either possibility because Mothman will take me into his arms and carry me away from this cold, humany planet!” “Oh Christ, Misfit!” Z-Wrap shouted while cackling. “We’ve only been here for less than two hours, and you’ve basically created Scientology 2.0.” “This isn’t even Scientology 2.0,” Krockman interjected frantically. “It’s like he’s stumbled upon some curves and angles that shouldn’t even exist on this world and he’s using it as the basis of a cult. It’s like some kind of Stephen King meets H.P. Lovecraft meets David Lynch meets Junji Ito type shit’s happening here.” 

Facepalming at this, Nicole interjected, “Can we please focus on the task at hand?” “Fine, fine, we’ll stop,” Krockman replied in a disappointed tone. “Although, I have to say, I’m amazed that you’re even out here. Back in New York, you used to be a reporter. Now you’re doing podcasts.” “Well to be honest, it wasn’t a career path I was expecting to take,” Nicole explained. “But when you’ve brought in the biggest scoop of your career, it’s always best to bow out on a high note.” Looking confused, Krockman asked, “Biggest scoop? What’re you talking about?” “You remember Ben Mason, right?” Nicole explained. “Well according to him, he was transferred to one of HBO’s smaller stations as their new CEO, and that station was going under. HBO knew that the station was going under, but they used it as a sort of dumping ground for people they wanted to fire but didn’t want to give a full severance check (some kind of loophole, y’know).” “Holy shit, are you serious?” Krockman said joyfully, only for the joy to fade away when a thought occurred to him. “Wait a minute, how did you get Ben to admit that? I couldn’t even get him to admit that he used up the last hazelnut coffee k-cup.” When she heard this, Nicole grew quiet, an awkward look crossing her face. “It’s funny you should say that,” she said uncomfortably. “I actually started a relationship with Ben to get it out of him.” “You started a relationship with that piece of crap?!” Krockman shouted in disgust. “When the hell did this start!?” Growing quiet for a minute, Nicole answered, “About a day after I broke up with you.” Krockman only grew quiet at this, glaring at Nicole in silent fury. 

Feeling awkward, Nicole slowly backed away towards the blind as she said, “Well, um, we should probably get into the blind so we can find...” “Did you?” Krockman interjected in a peeved tone. Looking confused and nervous, Nicole asked, “Did I what?” “Did you or did you not sleep with Ben while you were ‘dating’?” Krockman asked. “Cooper, I really don’t want to talk about this,” Nicole said, growing offended by this questioning. “Why not?” Krockman’s retorted indignantly. “After all, we never even slept in the same bed when we were dating(let alone had sex). I just want to know where I stand in all of this. Now come on, tell me the truth. Did you ride Ben’s baby carrot or not?” Clenching her fist and completely fed up at this point, Nicole shouted, “Alright, fine, we fucked! Are you happy Cooper? Are you finally satisfied, you goddamn psycho?!” Hearing this, Krockman only stared on at his ex in stunned, horrified silence. As he stood there, Krockman could sense Z-Wrap lean in slowly to his ear and whisper, “Dude, you’re a cuck.” “I know I’m a cuck, you idiot! Don’t rub it in!” Krockman roared in fury. “I... I just... come on Z-Wrap. I need to figure this out, and I’m gonna need your help.” “That sounds about right,” Z-Wrap said in a sympathetic tone. With that, the two lost souls walked off a short distance from the rest of the group, far from earshot. 

As she watched her ex and his friend walk off, Nicole could feel the gaze of the rest of the group fall on her. Looking back at the others, she asked, “What are you looking at?” After a few minutes of awkward silence, Chad finally spoke, “You’re just an awful person.” “Excuse me?” Nicole asked indignantly. “Well it’s just that you broke up with Krockman after he was fired so you could date the guy that got him fired just so you could get some information out of him for an article,” Chad explained. “You really can’t spin that in anyway that makes you look good.” Scoffing at this, Nicole retorted, “I only did that for my job. Besides, Cooper seems to be doing pretty fine now. He’s gotten over it.” “Gotten over it?” Misfit said incredulously. “Miss Sanders, in the time between your break up and now, did you ever once try to contact Cooper or even just visit his apartment?” Growing confused, Nicole said, “Uh, no. Why?” “Well if you had, you would’ve realized the awful truth,” Misfit explained as he rubbed his brow. “On the day you broke up, Krockman shot himself in the heart the out of despair. He’s been dead for close to a year now.” 

When she heard this, Nicole grew silent, mainly from equal parts of confusion, disbelief, and fear. Before she could even respond, she heard a loud rustling through the woods towards the small group. “What was that?” Nicole asked nervously as she tried to pinpoint the source of the sound. “I’m not sure,” Misfit said warily. “But I have pretty good feeling who it might be.” Growing nervous, Nicole pulled out a flashlight and shined it into the woods, only to be meet by a giant, orange eyeball being clutched by an enormous claw. Nicole watched on in horror as an emaciated giant walked out from the woods and towered over the group. It resembled an enormous mummy, but instead of bandages, it was wrapped in what appeared to be several large centipedes, with one trailing behind it like a tail. The most horrifying part was its eye, which was being held by a large centipede that was snaking its way out of one of its eye sockets, the other one completely empty. The monster slowly cracked it’s long, claw-like fingers as it gazed down at Nicole, grinding its dry, crooked teeth all the while. Before she could even scream, the mummy cast its hand towards Nicole, firing a barrage of bandages at her, slowly cocooning her. 

As Nicole struggled against her bonds, the mummy monster stopped for moment, leaving her head exposed. Hyperventilating a bit, she saw Krockman slowly walk in from the woods and slowly approach her, though something seemed... wrong about him. His mouth was filled with sharp, jagged fangs, his hands seemed more claw-like, and his eyes glowed with a luminous green light. “Cooper, what the hell’s going on?” Nicole said nervously as she struggled to free herself. “What happened to you? Why are you doing this to me?!” “Well look who finally cares about me,” Krockman said in a condescending tone. “Didn’t seem all that concerned when you dumped me for that sack of human garbage, Ben Mason.” “Oh my god, is that what this is all about?” Nicole retorted in an exasperated tone. “Are you seriously so petty that you’re going to do... whatever this is your doing to me for sleeping with Ben?” Glaring at his ex, Krockman retorted, “Do you think I give two craps about you dating Ben? Please, It’s not the first time I’ve ever heard about anyone humping trash. No, I’m more pissed that you slept with him just to get your information.” “What? Why?” Nicole asked in a confused tone. “I’m pretty certain you of all people would be happy about that.” “Yeah, well it’s no secret that most people would frown on the honey trap method of journalism,” Krockman explained with a derisive snort. “I mean seriously, you didn’t ‘bow out on a high note’. You left because you knew when the other shoe dropped, you’d lose all credibility and your career would be ruined. As for me, I have a more permanent solution. As for you, you’re going to go a little deeper into hiding...forever.” Turning to face the mummipede, Krockman simply pointed towards Nicole, causing the monster to nodded in agreement and continue binding her in wrappings, fully cocooning her. 

After that, Nicole was not sure what was happening. With her entire body encased in the cocoon, she could not see anything, hear anything, she could not even move. It was not after what felt like a few minutes had passed that the worst part became apparent: an itch. At first, it was just on the end of her nose, but after a while, it spread to the rest of her face, then her torso, then her arms (not to mention the fact that as it spread, the intensity of the itch grew worse). Eventually, her entire body felt like it was on fire, and there was nothing she could do about it. Desperate for some relief, Nicole furiously fidgeted her arms and legs in an attempt to free herself. Finally and unexpectedly, after all her fidgeting, Nicole managed to break out of the cocoon, falling flat on her face and screaming as she clawed at her skin. 

As she scratched at her body, Nicole was shocked to see something was watching her. At first, it looked like a large, owl-like creature, solid black in color with large wings and enormous red eyes. However, all that changed when it straightened itself up, revealing a humanoid head with small feelers on top and two long, taloned arms, the red “eyes” nothing more but a pair of bioluminescent spots on its chest. Just looking at the creature, Nicole instantly knew what this thing was: mothman. The mothman stared at the girl for a few minutes before slowly approaching her, the moonlight glinting off its cat-like eyes. Understandably, Nicole frantically scrambled to back away from the cryptid as far as possible, but her limbs felt oddly uncooperative. It was not long before mothman managed to catch up with her and was silently staring at her. Before Nicole could react, the mothman held out his hand, as if he wanted to help her up. Too afraid to refuse the gesture, Nicole took the creatures hand, only to notice that her own hand was just as taloned and black. Once she was back on her feet, Nicole could clearly see the mothman’s face... and it was actually kind of nice looking, almost handsome. The mothman stared at the new mothwoman as she flit her new wings, and he felt comforted. As the two mothfolk stared into each other’s eyes, they embraced each other, knowing that neither would be alone in this world again. 

Meanwhile, Krockman and the others were walking back into town, having bore witness to Nicole’s transformation. “That. Was. Awesome!” Z-Wrap shouted excitedly. “I am so glad you convinced me to come along for this.” “Indeed, I’m beginning to see why you’re so interested in this ‘reality warping’ rigmarole,” Misfit interjected. “There’s a certain sense of catharsis to it.” Krockman only grinned at this, saying, “What can I say? I know my work, and I enjoy every second of it.” While the three lost souls were enjoying themselves, the two mortals were silent, with Dr. Olan simply stone faced and Chad completely mortified. “Why would you do that to your ex?” Chad asked meekly. “That... that’s just so fucked up.” “It’s not like she’s gonna be lonely out there,” Krockman retorted. “Besides, she got what she deserved.” Looking on in disbelief, Chad said in reply, “For what, turning you into a cuck?” Hearing this, Krockman stopped dead in his tracks before slowly turning to face Chad, all while sporting the most serious, hateful look on his face. Slowly walking towards the mortal, Krockman placed his hands on Chad’s shoulders, looked him square in the eyes, and said in a low, hushed, monotone voice, “If you ever call me a cuck again, I will rip off your arms.” Having made his peace, Krockman slowly walked away, leaving Chad terrified to his core (he knew damn well that was not an empty threat). 

After shutting up Chad, Krockman walked ahead of the group and stopped in a clearing in the woods. Settling on a spot, he opened his mouth, releasing a bank of golden fog that coalesced into a portal. “Alright, everyone heading to Seattle go through this portal,” Krockman explained to the group. “Olan, I’ll open up a portal for you after the others make it back.” Dr. Olan only stared silently at the lost soul as he rubbed his chin curiously. “Okay, see you back home then,” Z-Wrap said as he walked through the portal. He was soon followed by Misfit and the disgruntled Chad, leaving only Krockman and the doctor behind. Noticing Olan’s silence, Krockman asked, “Hey doc, you’ve been quiet for a while now. Something on your mind?” “I’m just thinking about your hostility towards Nicole,” Dr. Olan explained. “Granted, she was an awful and amoral person, but still, your reaction seemed rather extreme considering the circumstances.” Looking shocked, Krockman retorted, “Extreme? She dumped me the day I got fired just so she could date the guy who got me fired.” “True, yes. That is a legitimate point,” Dr. Olan said in reply in a sympathetic tone. “But still, the only reason she did so was to mine Ben for information. It’s a morally bankrupt and deplorable form of journalism and I don’t support it, but you should be happy about it.” “Well I’m not,” Krockman protested indignantly. “We both know that sort of journalism is doomed to collapse. People don’t care about the truth, they just want the spectacle, and once they find something more scandalous, they’ll flock towards that. To paraphrase Pascal, people seek out spectacles to distract themselves from thinking about just how utterly inconsequential they are in the grand scheme of existence. No amount of evidence and truth is going to change that.” 

When Dr. Olan heard this, he seemed rather impressed. “Pascal? As in Blaise Pascal?” he asked curiously. “You seem to be a bit of a philosophy buff.” Shrugging his shoulders, Krockman explained, “I took a philosophy course back in community college. I did pretty good.” “I see,” Dr. Olan said in reply as he stroked his beard. “Well I must say, your knowledge of the subject is quite impressive. However, if I may be so bold, I feel you may have missed the point of Pascal’s argument.” “How so?” Krockman asked. “Pascal made his idea of distractions as an argument for why people should worship God (being a theologian, he probably assumed that if a person has nothing else in his life, he’d at least have the Almighty). In your case, however, with your unique position, you’ve managed to disprove the relevance of God; so turning to Him isn’t an option. You also seem to show a constant need to do these little job offers. In a way, you’re just as prone to distracting yourself as anyone else.” Hearing this, Krockman grew silent, staring on at the doctor in shock. “Furthermore, I am more of a believer in the philosophy of Albert Camus, specifically his writings in the Myth of Sisyphus,” Olan continued. “Life is an absurd thing, yes, but learning to deal with it is part of the human experience. Some people choose to embrace the absurdity, some choose to distract themselves like you said, and some people... well, some people would rather die.” For the first time ever, Krockman was at a complete loss for words. 

After glaring at the doctor for a few minutes, Krockman opened his mouth and exhaled a gout of golden fog, forming a portal in the process. “This is a portal back to New York,” Krockman explained coldly. “You can go now.” “I didn’t mean to cause offense, Mr. Krockman,” Dr. Olan said apologetically. “I was simply just trying to figure out your reasoning, even more so considering that you said you had a more ‘permanent’ solution to the Ben Mason problem.” Krockman only shook his head in disgust as he slowly walked towards the portal leading back to Seattle. “Krockman, please, just listen to me,” Dr. Olan pleaded. “I’m not going to try to stop your plan. I’m not even sure if I could stop it. Just please, tell me that it doesn’t involve you hurting anyone.” Looking over towards the doctor, Krockman simply closed his eyes, exhaled a bit, and said in a wistful tone, “Some time ago back in Limbo, I had a strange and wonderful dream. I was back in New York, it was nighttime, and there was a grand parade marching through the streets; chanting my name. There was a giant, stained glass dome, and when the parade reached its end, the dome shattered, and everything changed. I don’t know the specifics, but I know that’s the ultimate plan.” Hearing this, the doctor only rubbed his chin curiously, trying to take it all in. Finally, after a few minutes of deliberation, Dr. Olan simply sighed and said, “Well, that doesn’t really answer anything, but I’m assuming you can’t hurt mortals (if you could, you would have done far worse to to your ex). I’ll be taking my leave now. Good day, sir.” As Dr. Olan made his way through the portal, he heard Krockman say, “I look forward to seeing you again in New York, Doc.” This only made Olan walk faster into the portal. When the doctor had left, and the portal to New York closed up and dissipated, Krockman stared at the space for a moment, sighing a bit as he felt a heavy emptiness inside what was left of his heart as the doctor’s words weighed on his mind. With that, Krockman walked into the portal and went back to Seattle. 
————— 

Meanwhile, back in Limbo, Calibur, Teddi, and all the other scraps were patiently waiting back at Fort Abraxas. In front of the group was a large projection screen, ready for a presentation. Looking over at Calibur, Teddi said, “Hey guys, thanks again for helping me and momma out back at the house. I really appreciate it.” “Don’t mention it, Teddi,” Calibur said in reply. “I’m just glad I can finally remember a heroic act of mine.” “Glad to hear it,” Teddi said cheerfully. “Although, I’m curious as to why Shinkin was the only enlightened scrap to join you guys. Why didn’t Kama come along?” Looking over at the teddybear scrap, Shinkin answered, “Kama stated he had more important things to tend to. Shinkin’s schedule is pretty open. He’s happy to help.”

While Teddi was taking this in, Kama and Kamen arrived, carrying a laptop and a projector, placing them on a nearby table. “Okay everyone, settle in,” Kama ordered as he flipped the laptop open. “The sooner we cover the bases, the sooner we can make our move.” After he plugged the laptop into the projector, Kama stared at the device in a confused manner. Noticing this, Jimmy asked, “Is there a problem up there?” “No, no, everything’s fine,” Kama said confidently before turning to Kamen and asking in a hushed tone, “Hey, how do I turn this thing on?” Looking at the laptop, Kamen answered, “You have to push the ‘on’ button.” “Dude, there’s like fifty buttons on this thing,” Kama complained. “How am I suppose to know which one’s the ‘on’ button?” “It’s the little, round button. Push that,” Kamen explained. Looking closer at the laptop, Kama huffed as he said, “I don’t see any round buttons.” “It’s in the upper right corner of the keyboard,” Kamen said in an annoyed tone, pointing his finger directly at the button. “Jesus Christ, this isn’t hard to figure out man.” Finally seeing the button, a sheepish, awkward look crossed Kama’s face as he pushed the button, turning the laptop on and starting the show. 

“Alright, let’s review, shall we,” Kama said, trying to regain a sense of authority. “As we all know, the Eye of the Demiurge has been stolen when the door to its vault was left open (way to go Shinkin). According to Poe, it was stolen by a group of ferals while we were preoccupied with the fight with Tanooka Joe. We need to go to their base of operations, Byrnhem Theater, and get it back. Any questions?” Noticing that Jimmy was raising his hand, Kama said, “Yes Jimmy, you got something to say?” “Yeah, I got question,” Jimmy answered smugly. “How are you going to use PowerPoint if you don’t even know how to turn on a laptop?” “That’s... completely irrelevant to the conversation,” Kama answered, taken aback by the guitar scrap’s question. “No, actually, that’s a good point,” Milbert interjected with a snort. “I don’t know much about computers, but turning a computer on seems like one of the basics.” Pointing at the peppermill scrap and nodding in agreement, Jimmy said, “Yeah, exactly. I mean if he somehow managed to create a presentation, that would mean he had to have someone else turn on the laptop for him, right?” Having enough of this, Kama shouted, “I’m no that good with technology, okay?! Is that so bad!? Can we please focus on the problem at hand?!” Hearing this, everyone shut up and focused on the sickle scrap. 

Rubbing his face in frustration, Kama continued, “Moving along, we’ll now be going over our strategy.” Pushing a button on the laptop, Kama began his presentation, starting with a picture of what appeared to be a rundown theater. “This is Byrnhem Theater, the ferals’ base of operation,” Kama explained. “This place is heavily guarded, heavily armed, and overall, a tough place to break into. We’re gonna have to play this cool if we want to get in without being noticed.” “And how exactly do you plan to pull that off?” Jimmy interjected. Casting an annoyed look towards the guitar scrap, Kama continued, “Simple. According to Poe, there’s an abandoned service tunnel that leads right into the theater just south from here. If we start soon enough, we should arrive within a day. Once we arrive, we can set up camp there and rest for a bit before we head into the theater itself. After that, it’ll just be a matter of finding the Eye and taking it back to Fort Abraxas where it belongs. Now, any questions?” Hearing this, Jimmy asked, “Yeah, supposing some of us are more lovers than fighters...” Before the guitar scrap could finish, Kama interjected, “You can shoot lightning bolts out of your mouth. I think you can handle this.” With that, Kama turned off the projector and said to the other scraps before walking away, “That’ll be all. Start packing.” 

As Kama walked down one of the many hallways of the fort, he heard another set of footsteps following behind him. Turning around, he saw that it was Calibur, staring up at him with a concerned look. Curious about this, Kama asked, “Can I help you with something?” “I just wanted to ask you something,” Calibur explained. “Why?” Looking confused, the sickle scrap asked in reply, “Why what?” “Why didn’t you come with us to help Lady Emily?” Calibur explained in an accusatory tone. “We really could’ve used your help back there.” Looking down at the sword scrap, Kama simply answered, “I didn’t think it was my place.” “Your place to what? To help someone in need?” Calibur retorted in shock. “You didn’t come to help us because you’re a coward. That’s no way for a hero to act.” “A hero? A hero?!” Kama said in clear annoyance. “Hero, hero, hero. Is that all you can think about? Are you really that single minded about finding out what being a hero’s about?” Calibur could only stare on in shocked silence, murmuring a bit, too low for Kama to hear. “Hm, I suppose you can’t, can you? That’s just your nature, isn’t it?” the sickle scrap retorted smugly. “Well then, if that’s all you have to say, I suggest you start packing. We’ve got a long road ahead of us. Don’t waste anymore of my time.” With that, Kama walked away, leaving Calibur to murmur to himself in confusion.