The V-16 Crystallac car inched through the hazy fog deeper into a mysterious bog. Edward had driven the machine all night long, but he was slowing down. It had taken all his might, liquid adrenaline, and shocks from the defibrillator to keep his heart ticking. He could feel it slowly losing steam as time was fleeting to get revenge. The crickets chirped, and the fireflies bounced all around. He swatted away mosquitos and moose flies swarming that craved human flesh just like him.
“Alright butler juice me up,” said Edward.
“Yes sir,” said Jarvis, readying the portable defibrillator.
“Zaaap!”
Edward’s eyes lit up the night red as the electric power surged directly into his bones. His tongue stuck out like a wildman and his legs started shaking involuntarily keeping time at 250 bpm.
“VROOOM!”
The convertible shot forward with the same vigor, almost going off road. He slammed on the brakes moments before hitting a large log.
“Ahhh that’s better. Now if this map you found is correct the witch doctors office should be just around the bend,” said Edward.
“Hmm this bog is pretty spooky, I like it almost as much as my crypt back home,” said Jarvis, completely oblivious to the swarm feasting on what remained of his withered hide.
“Yes, well maybe when I'm dead or king again you can move here permanently.”
“Only when our mission is completed master until then I remain your humble servant.”
“Jeez Jarvis you lay it on thicker than a bricklayer. Hey I wonder if there's any Bootlickers living under that pond over there you could swim with,” said Edward, pointing his stump of an arm towards a bubbling puddle of thick goo.
They crossed an old bridge that rattled like a skeleton composed of rust caked metal. The wind howled and thunder growled in lands far away. The stale stink smelled of sulfurous eggs wafted over the dirty bog. The crystal lights of the automobile cut into the dark winding road composed of thick ruts. The tires slushed and descended into the mud, before climbing onto a bed of exposed roots that spiderwebbed across the ground.
A vulture nested on an old sign of rotted wood that was covered by the yellowing branching of a dying skunk spruce. The lettering long soured and sun bleached away, but some block lettering was lighter than the surrounding mossy oak boards. Edward squinted as the vehicle slowed to a crawl beside it. He continued to struggle with poor literacy while they had pulled up directly next to it.
“Doctors Quarters it says, Sir,” announced Jarvis.
“Huh, I think my eyes may have somehow rotted out more than a walking corpse, because I’m still blind as a bat,” stammered Edward in disbelief.
“I have been living in the core of the planet so long that it’s enhanced me with superior powers and such,” said Jarvis.
“I see, well keep an eye out for the doctor then will you,” said Edward.
“Yes Sir.”
They rounded a bend walled by a thicket of dead spruce without a single needle remaining to their name. The frogs sounded off in tones, with other things peeping on high alert. Jarvis pointed at a wall that was barely visible with the moss that blanked and camouflaged it. The vehicle came to a stop beside a little hut in similar condition. There was no saying what the dwelling was composed of, but it looked derelict and there were no lights going inside. An open dark crawl hole welcomed them underneath a stuffed boar's head with big old tusks that appeared caked in dried blood.
“Well I guess I'm going in to find myself a doctor, don’t mind if you stay and watch the car.”
“No problemo.”
“Oh yeah, how could I forget.”
“Zaaap”.
Edward's looted cowboy boots sunk into the ground. He fought the terrain and a coughing fit. He sunk into the mud, puked up his guts, before slowly sloshing around to the other side of the car in Killin Hood’s matching suit that was soiled. Jarvas held the hook contraption out the window. It was missing some parts before it could be attached again with its master who was consumed by the dark as he entered the structure.
The floor to the place must have been the same moist moss as the exterior. It smelled like something was smoldering. The scent was funky enough to gag a skunk like rotting eggs that had been mated with sauerkraut, sweaty underwear, and canned beets with a seal that had rotted away. The tunnel was coated in water with a faint light up ahead.
“Man oh man this place is a pigsty. Good thing I have the superpower to be completely immune to any level of debauchery,” laughed Edward, standing next to a lit jack o'lantern.
The small room he entered was filled with floating books, a roof composed of gray stuff, a shelf empty of substance, and the wallpaper curled into jerky. The place was filled with smoke from burning wet wood. A painting was coated in strange fungus.
A crackling called him into the next room where a table was filled with beakers, mixers, and dried ingredients. Nearby a cauldron filled with green glow in the dark liquid was being cooked under a fire. The place started to spin and the smoke sent him into oblivion.
“Groovy operation here.. Now where the farc is the doctor at. Knock knock hello anybody home.”
The waters of the cauldron began to bubble like crazy. It intensified until it was overflowing, hitting the wet rocks with a sizzle. A black cat jumped from a hidden shelf, and darted into a small hole in the wall. Hot steam intensified as a clay-like creature began to form. The little arms got bigger, and bigger, then the mouth and eyes came into the picture. It was a naked Slyman taking form.
“Who interrupts my slumber?” It said, with a gravelly voice that sounded like a mouth full of mud.
It climbed out from the cauldron. The feet hit the ground just as the big toes, and pinky fingers had completed forming
“Ahhh well I need a doctor, and you were marked as the only one on the maps so how about we do some dickering,” said Edward
“What?” asked the Slyman.
“I ain’t got much left of me being a man, but how about re-attaching this hook of mine and giving me a look over and some medicine. A new heart if you can. It’s a long story but if you help me now I’ll be able to pay you back tenfold later,” said Edward, grabbing a rotting wooden support beam to keep himself from failing.
“Hmmm a conman more likely,” muttered the Slyman, who had by now formed a single wide bucktooth that helped him pronounce things.
“Hmmmf.. please sir, have a heart, I feel that I am slowly dying, and need medical assistance to complete my revenge before my body rots apart, and I depart,” said Edward.
The creature sniffed the air deeply inhaling into a nose of seven nostrils. He slowly blew out a cloud of mist over his patient. While a layer of clay was growing over the creatures private parts which then became a sort of rudimentary clothing. It waddled behind a wall and fished out a leather bag, and then groaned as it strained to lift a waterlogged wooden box from the waters. The bag clashed on the table, while the box slammed down. Both sounded like they were full of objects.
“You’re right on the money. About being a dead man walking that is. Well I suppose I’ve got an oath to uphold even for creatures with stenches so wicked as yours,” it replied.
“Let’s call it being a different species,” said Edward.
“Yet you want me to be your doctor, well Dr. Slyman my name is,” it said, putting on the thick wool gloves it had pulled out of a drawer.
“Ok you got me there, although if I had any human options trust me I would have gone there first, as I said already your my last resort.”
“I do like to think of my precious home and the surrounding swamp as a luxury resort. An all in one clinic mostly for my own species but I practice a little of everything,” said the Slyman, proudly putting on a stethoscope jamming the listening ends into its seemingly earless head.
“Now let me take a closer look.”
The gray clay like fingers of the creature placed the circular end over the deformed chest which was equal parts half human and crystalized scale at this point. Edward struggled to breathe in and out in silence. An owl hoot traveled through the walls as the mist faded. It remained quiet for what felt like a lifetime other than the two creatures wheezing in different timings.
“You have a false heart constructed by a witch barely keeping you alive I’m afraid,” said the Dr.
“Well surely you could put in a new one if I were to go and fetch a fresh human errr corpse donation at the local morgue,” said Edward.
“You could, but you would still probably die in the procedure. Now hold out your tongue and say aaaaaa,” said the Dr. who had put away the stethoscope, and got a metal cylinder.
“AAAAAA,” said Edward.
Edward’s tongue was scaled over like a lizard. As the strange cylinder touched it immediately exploded into loud ticks and bright lights, like a radiation counter.
“I’m sorry, but you have cancer of sorts. A severe overexposure to crystal energies is your main ailment. It severely mutates you beyond the point of no return. I'm afraid all that can be done is prolong the inevitable and make you comfortable at this point. That artificial witch's heart can’t be removed for another real one without killing you,” explained the doctor.
“Ok well how long do I have remaining to live?” asked Edward.
“Well I'm kind of surprised you're still getting around as well as you are. I suppose the determination for revenge, bloodlust, and all that jazz is what is keeping you in such good shape. So, maybe 48 hours, maybe a month or three maximum is the unfortunate timetable,” said Dr. Slyman.
“Well the least you could do is hook my hook back on, and surely you are capable of brewing up some crazy cracked crystal medicine to let me burn out like the star I am,” said Edward.
“Yeah let me see your hooker.. Hmmm that’s a nice device,” he said, holding it up.
He grabbed a monocle from his bag, and a small screwdriver and popped open the gearbox.
“Oh man this is going to be a pain in the ass to rewire man,” said the Slyman.
“But you can do it, and hook me up with enough medicine to complete my life's mission?”
“Sure I’m a damn fine chemist, alchemist, and experimenter. We brew the best drugs up here in the swaps with our secret family recipes passed down from generations of practicing, but I’m going to need the payment up front,” said the Dr.
“Good to hear, how about a custom guitar, a loyal undead butler, or trading cars to a very rare crystallac V-16,” offered Edward.
The Dr. waddled into the living room and peeked through the curtains for what felt like forever. Finally he came back, and unlocked the wooden box. Inside was lined with thick metal and an industrial seal to lock in the contained crystals. He grabbed a large green stone shaped like a four leaf clover drilled with holes for a chain, and hung it around Edward’s neck.
“Well follow me to the operating table out back.”
The two walked past the cauldron, then a small living room with a single recliner, and a magic box of tubes sitting on a table and sandwiched by ferns, and carnivorous flowers. Dr. Slyman pushed aside a curtain of noisy beads, and they entered a dry room lined with packed shelves of flours, pickled things, and plants drying upside down from ropes on the oak beams above. In the middle of it all was an operating table, and on the foot of the bed was what looked to be a big red box that was some kind of alien arc welder.
“Well, lay down and let’s get to work,” said Dr. unhooking a black trench-coat off the wall and zipping it over his heavy frame.
While Edward resigned himself to his fate on the table, the doctor adjusted the inside of a helmet with painted flames, and what looked like the logos of non-human bands.
“Bite this,” he instructed, giving Edward a salty tasting piece of driftwood to chew on.
“No pain no gain,” laughed the patient.
“Seriously this is going to hurt prepare for the worst,” said the Doctor, slamming his welding helmet down, after he grabbed a fresh package of welding rods off the shelf.
Outside Jarvis titled his head, but remained emotionless in the convertible. The hut in the woods next to him lit up in white and blue sparkling lights. The bog became filled with the screams of pain and crackling of flesh being fused permanently to metal as the monster grew in power level.
