Alice and Toffee followed Lena’s group, with Fritz and Torie trailing behind them. The closer they got to the Renfield, however, the more apparent it became that Toffee was not okay.

The air was thick and stifling and the smell was unmistakable, yet hard to place. Toffee had forgotten what it felt like down here, and the horrors of what was done to him—what he had experienced after he was thrown away—came flooding back to him all at once. His heart was racing, his chest felt tight, and the back of his neck was hot and sweaty. He shook his head, trying to brush off the thoughts and emotions burying him, but it was no use.

“Hey, are you hanging in there?” Alice gently nudged his arm. He swallowed, pausing, before responding.

“They built us to kill but then just as quickly threw us away like broken parts. How can you play god and then hate what you’ve created for not being as cruel as you?”

Alice didn’t know what to say to that, but before she could say anything, a strange sound echoed through the darkness. The group had reached a fork in the tunnels.

“They’re coming.” Said Lena. “Brace yourselves.”

The gang drew their weapons and charged up their blasters. The sound drew closer and clearer, a solemn wailing coming from two different directions. It was as if the ghouls were communicating, and all at once, they descended upon the group gathered in the intersection.

They were all tall and buff, and had long, sharp claws. There were canines, like Toffee, as well as cats, reptiles, and humans. Left to roam and cry in a labyrinthian tomb, they grew hungry in their isolation. It was rare that others came down here, and they would not be passing up the opportunity to feed.

Lena and Alice worked in tandem, slashing and slicing with grace and skill. Lena had quite a knack for her daggers, and her giant goth boots were excellent for stomping on skulls, because you can never be too careful. Alice nimbly avoided attacks and held her ground; she was small, but she made up for it in dexterity.

Torie was quite the shot and would happily brag about it at the right time. As Fritz laid into the creatures with his crowbar, his alabaster skin accumulated splatters of blood, and his wife had to admit it was a little sexy.

Having lovingly named his bat “Shoshanna”, Sidney found no joy in using her this time. He would have much preferred to be splitting open the heads of the people who created these ghouls to begin with-- at least they knew what they were doing.

It quickly became apparent that the group was becoming overwhelmed. Alice yelped as a ghoul swiped at her arm, slashing through her jacket and breaking the skin. Toffee wheeled around and blasted away her attacker without hesitation.

“I’m out of laser fuel! That was my last shot!” He tucked his blaster back into its holster and drew another knife. The ghosts looked all around them and began to formulate a plan.

“Toffee! Do you remember the rest of the way from here?” Lena shouted.

“I... I think so??” He responded.

“Good. Torie, give me your flask. Guys,” she looked at the other ghosts. “Left tunnel. NOW. Make some noise!”

Lena poured out the rest of Torie’s drink all over the tunnel’s entrance. The rest of her friends booked it inside, hollering and cheering and running their weapons along the sides of the walls to make a racket.

“Fritz! Now!” She sprinted after her friends as the ghouls began to follow quickly in tow. As the last of them entered the tunnel to pursue the ghosts, Fritz flicked his lighter and tossed it over to the entrance, lighting it ablaze. The ghouls shrieked and ran faster, towards their prey and away from the fire.

Alice, Toffee, Torie, and Fritz hurried down the right tunnel, deeper into the darkness and closer to an unavoidable fate. As they ran, a scream erupted from deep within the other tunnel, but it was unclear as to whether it belonged to a friend or not. They had no time to hesitate, and besides, can ghosts even be harmed? They were probably fine...probably...

__________________________________

A few hours had passed, and Winona had fallen back asleep. She woke to the lights turning on and soft footsteps coming down the stairs. She was scared stiff, staring at the floor and refusing to move or look up.

Theo walked towards her but stopped before he got too close.

“I have a gift for you,” spoke a voice much softer and clearer than before.

Winona took his hands reluctantly as he gently helped her to her feet. He wore soft leather gloves and his grasp was tender, but still she refused to look at him. Theo stroked her hair with one hand, tucking pieces of it behind her ears, and pulled her glasses out of his pocket with his other. He unfolded them and placed them on her face.

“Now you can really see me.” There was a choked silence and she hesitated before meeting his gaze. The appearance of the man before her was shocking.

Theo’s hair was shiny and wavy and fell just above his shoulders, with a streak of white piercing through the inky black. His eyes were bright and soft, with vivid green irises and long, dark lashes. His lips were full, and flush, and soft, and a small, bumpy scar stretched from the right corner of his mouth up to nearly his ear. Theo was shirtless underneath a black leather jacket that nearly reached the floor, and a bodice made of belts covered his torso and stopped just beneath his chest. Scars like the one on his cheek adorned his neck and chest as well, and he was more beautiful than she had ever seen him, even when she was young. Confused by what she saw and failing to make sense of it, she felt sick as the pit in her stomach grew to new depths.

“You’re a monster,” she cried, standing her ground and pushing him away. He let her shove him back. “You’re a fucking MONSTER!”

Winona slammed her body against him, pounding on his chest in anguish. He firmly—yet calmly—clutched her tight against his body to stop her. She relented, but bristled and grew stiff in his arms.

Theo quickly let her go and she stood back, glaring at him as he smiled softly.

“Turn around.”

“Excuse me?” She stammered.

“Turn around, darling. Please.”

Winona hesitated, grimacing, before turning around. She stared down at her feet anxiously. Theo produced a black silk ribbon from his pocket.

“This hasn’t been worn in years.”

With a gentle, soft touch, he proceeded to gather Winona’s hair back and tie it up with the ribbon. He tied it neatly into a bow and pulled it a little too tight.

“Face me, my dear,” Theo said.

She turned back around but her gaze remained glued to the floor.

“I said, face me.” He tilted her chin up with his hand, and her icy blue eyes met his.

“You look different.” Winona glared at him.

“Yes, well, you have to forgive me. I uh, I wasn’t feeling myself earlier,” said Theo cryptically. She remembered the scream.

“You have to let me out of here.” Winona looked like she might spit on him again.

“Of course, dear.” He responded, catching her off guard. “But first, let me get you some water. You must be terribly thirsty, am I right?”

Every alarm was sounding in her head, every red flag was flying. Seemingly out of nowhere, Theo handed her a glass.

“Please, drink.”

Winona took the glass and smiled sadly at him, taking a small sip.

“No, no, finish it. You’ll feel better,” He stroked her bare shoulder. Everything about this was wrong, red flag after red flag.

Winona began to slowly drink, knowing she had no choice. Theo watched her, never breaking eye contact as she swallowed the water nervously. The pit in her stomach grew ever deeper, and her limbs began to feel heavy.

“What are you...” She said sleepily. Pins and needles surged throughout her body and she began to lose feeling entirely.

The glass tilted out of Winona’s hand, fell to the floor, and shattered. Theo caught her body as it grew limp and cradled her for a moment in his arms. He picked her up carefully and carried her across the room to an operating table. He laid her down and dimmed the lights, and she watched as he placed candles all around her body and lit them. She could see and hear everything going on around her, but she could barely even blink. He took her glasses off her face, folded them, and set them aside.

After removing his gloves, Theo produced a glass bottle labeled UNHOLY WATER and uncorked it, pouring some into a bowl. He grabbed a cloth and began to gently wipe down her hands and arms, working his way up to her shoulders and neck. He patted her forehead and cheeks, before moving onto her legs and feet.

On an adjacent table, Theo laid out an old book and a scalpel. He opened to a bookmarked page and set the text aside. He turned to smile at Winona, who wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. All she could manage were tears, welling up in her eyes and running down the sides of her face.

Theo began to read an incantation out loud from the book. The flames around her grew hot and flickered aggressively, and as his chanting grew louder, he picked up the scalpel and sliced into the palm of his own hand. Viscous, purple blood oozed out and he squeezed it into Winona’s open eyes, and once again she was shrouded in pitch black.