Chapter Text
A loud boom echoed through the hollowed hall, followed instantaneously by the visceral squelch of ruptured flesh and the rapid gushing of blood.
Verity’s eyes which had instinctively squeezed shut at the noise slowly opened to the repulsive scene before him. To most humans, this sight would be an abnormal traumatic experience; for Verity, it was one far too common. However, usually it was him that had caused this carnage. This time—well…
Verity, who had long known these repugnant scenes, for the first time ever—or perhaps he had before, he’s lost track, due to how long he’s existed—weeped at the sight. Not just weeped, Verity’s body curled over and clutched to his stomach as he sobbed.
“Fuck…No! Mob… shit…” he snuffled between tears.
He fell down to his knees—almost as if being toppled by the weight of it all—onto Mob’s bleeding corpse. Clinging to his jacket soaked in gore.
And it was there where he laid for a long time. Minutes became hours that Verity glued himself to Mob’s bloodied corpse in desperate agony. Until the blood grew solid and Verity could barely muster up any more tears to cry with.
Never before had a human done this to him. Never had he felt such crushing despair.
Suddenly, Verity heard the loud whirring of an engine starting up. He was familiar with this sound too. He shakily lifted himself up and walked to the end of the corridor. It was his transmitter, it seems between all the chaos, he had forgotten to properly turn it off. Verity walked in and started typing something into the control panel. Painfully reminded of the fact that Mob tried to get rid of him.
It was at that moment that Verity thought of something. He wasn’t ready to let go of Mob. Not yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t continue this cycle anymore. Mob was different, Mob couldn’t just be another “x” on a sign. Verity wouldn’t let him.
Verity had never thought about it before, but if he had all this power and control, could he bring someone back from the dead?
A bright fluorescent light pierced Mob’s vision. His limbs felt sore and ached when he tried to move them. He groaned heavily and repeatedly blinked until he could assess his surroundings. The walls were white, he was in a room with a giant window, showcasing a hallway outside. It was at that moment Mob recognized where he was.
“What the fuck,” Mob thought to himself. He tried to get up from what he now realized was a bed, but his limbs still ached too much to move.
“Shit— how, what happened?” For a moment Mob wondered if he had dreamed of killing himself. However that idea was short-lived after remembering the agonizing pain he felt after pulling the trigger.
There was no way had failed, right? I mean he shot himself in the head. That’s not something people usually survive from.
Mob laid there aching for a bit before slowly gathering the strength to pull himself up slightly. He thought about attempting to talk, but realized that was a bad idea in case Verity heard him.
Where is Verity anyway? Mob couldn’t see him anywhere, but he had an uncomfortable hunch that his miraculous survival could be traced back to him.
Eventually Mob’s limbs stabilized, he dragged himself out of bed, still a bit shaky and opened the door…
Verity was nowhere to be seen.
“Good” Mob thought to himself. “I have to get out of here, quick.”
Mob started hurriedly limping towards the exit, not quite steady enough to sprint yet until—
The loud creak of a door echoed behind him. The sound startled Mob enough that he toppled to the floor, frantically scrambling to look back towards the noise.
“SHIT!” Mob swore to himself “I forgot about that stupid obsidian door!”
A figure emerged from the room, staring at Mob in shock.
“You’re… alive…” Verity gasped, tears emerging from his eyes.
Mob didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to think.
“You…” Was the only word Mob could muster out.
“What the fuck did you do to me Verity!” shouted Mob, the halls echoing it back so much so even Mob was surprised with his own anger.
Not surprised that he was angry at Verity. Of course he was. He was surprised at his lack of fear. However the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Mob was long past fearing Verity. What would Verity do to retaliate, kill him? Kill his friends? Both options had been run dry.
Verity’s smile faded and his head lowered slightly, “I healed you, Mob. You tried to get rid of me again. But I forgave you!”
“Fuck that! Why can’t you get it through that all-knowing head of yours that I HATE you!”
Within a flash Verity transforms, launching towards Mob, his lanky arms holding Mob down with powerful force.
“What’s wrong with you! All I ever wanted was to help you, why do you torture me like this!”
“What are you going to do, Verity? Kill me?”
Verity’s face turns to shock before poofing right back into his normal form and stepping away from Mob.
“I…” Verity stutters, “I’m sorry…”
Mob lifts himself up, bones still aching. He doesn’t really know what to do.
“Twi—” Mob stutters out, before cutting himself off. He can’t even bear to think of him.
“I found a book. It told me to send you home. I thought that maybe the transmitter would do that.”
“It only receives,” Verity interrupts.
“No, I got that. I got that. But is there no other way to ‘send you home’?”
Verity goes quiet for a moment before speaking, “I told you Mob. This isn’t a place I would describe warmly. This is not my ‘home.’ I have no home you can send me back too.
“But the assistance line! It had an option for account cancellation and a guy picked it up before telling me they don’t do that.”
“What assistance line?”
“It’s on the post-it in that room,” Mob points towards a door. “I read the line and you like ‘transferred’ into an assistance line.”
Verity walks into the room and checks the post-it. Mob contemplates attempting to run at this moment but knows it would ultimately lead nowhere. Verity walks back out holding the note in confusion.
“And who picked up?” Verity asks—with what feels like the first time he’s ever been genuinely confused.
“This guy, he sounded tired as hell or something—I told him I wanted to cancel my ‘account.’ And for a moment it seemed like he knew what I was talking about. But then he just said ‘we don’t do that here’ and told me I could just off myself instead! Bruh if that’s not something you do then why does your assistance line literally have an option called ‘account cancellation.’”
There is a long silence as Verity ponders what Mob has admitted. A part of him was angry of course, learning that Mob had tried this without him ever realizing. But Mob was right, what was he to do? Kill him?
“Why did you come back…?” he asks.
It was the only words Verity could muster.
Mob grew silent and looked away.
Verity asked again, his tone snapping into a sobbing shout, “WHY DID YOU—”
“I DON’T KNOW.” Mob screams. “I…”
“I don’t know bro…” Mob repeats.
Verity’s face grew frustrated. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Mob was lying, that Mob had a reason. But he snapped himself back into a mournful frown before answering, “You must be hungry… I’ll grab you some food.”
Verity walked away into a room, leaving Mob still sitting on the floor.