Sequence Four: The Other

Blathers ran.

He did not stop running, barely falling below a consistently agile pace as he swept across the fog-strewn ruin of his beloved town. Not even when his electro-shock wakey-wakey alarm clock fell out of his non-existent pocket and cluttered onto the ground.

His breaths were stuttering, plentiful but still painfully inadequate. His sides felt like they had been gouged through by a rock, but as time wore by, a soothing disconnectedness set in, numbing the flaring agony.

Beside him nearly the whole way, Nook ran very fast for a convenience store cloak, never slowed down by the heavy swaying of his apron that surely indicated a swell of bagged bells were stored inside. His feet barely skidded in the mud on the banks of the river, nor on the mounds of damp leaves congregating on the forest floor. There seemed like nothing, in heaven or hell, could slow him down.

But then he saw the rock. The rock with the golden hue that could only mean one thing - bells.

Before Blathers even realised what was happening, Nook had pulled out a shovel from his TARDIS-like apron and flung himself at the rock, hoping to crack it open and reap its reward.

"Tom, no!" Blathers cried. "Don't stop, not for anything!"

"I'll only be a second!" Nook shouted back. "It's going to be fine!"

The raccoon raised his shovel, practically foaming at the mouth.

But, before he could strike the boulder he felt a sharp pain in his neck.

"Aah!" he cried out, paw already moving to the source.

"Tom? Are you okay?" Blathers enquired.

"Just a mosquito," Nook panted back. "Just a-"

His eyes grew wide - wider even than when Ellis had told him he had no intention of buying his spotlight product now or ever. His face drained of colour, literally dulling as though someone had pulled the plug on his veins.

He opened his mouth slightly, trying to either suck in a faint breath or make a feeble plea for help. But to no avail.

As Blathers watched, too terrified to speak, Nook literally melted away, right in front of him. Fur and flesh withered, turning to white bone - all empty eye sockets and bare ribcage. His head slumped forward lifelessly as it was emaciated.

In less than ten seconds, Nook was just a skeleton, and dropped to the ground, bones falling off and dropping into a neat pile below where he had been standing.

The shovel clattered to the earth, burying its head in the mud, just as Blathers was so tempted to do.

The demonic mosquito drew back, attack completed. Its eyes found Blathers, but by now the owl was already too far away to meet a similar fate. He had disappeared once again into the pea soup, and with it, into countless unknown horrors.

(-)

"Try it again!"

Wolfgang rounded on Hugh, snarling.

"I've tried it fifteen times, snarl! IT WON'T OPEN."

Hugh retreated slightly from the raised voice, before his eyes lit up, excitedly giving another suggestion.

"Try pouring hot milk onto it!"

Wolfgang exchanged a look with Ellis, the latter of which had retreated into a sombre trance.

"Hugh, we don't have any hot milk! We don't have any milk, we don't even have any heat! Where are we going to get hot milk from?"

"I'm sorry, Wolfgang, I was only trying to help..."

"Yeah? Well, you're better off not."

The wolf turned back to pacing the short length of their enclosure, claws opening and closing almost-ritually.

"You know, this wouldn't even be so bad if it wasn't so small," he growled. "Did I ever tell you that I hate enclosed spaces, snarl? Well, I do. AND WHO THE HELL KEEPS STEPPING ON MY TAIL!"

Hugh pointed a trembling trotter at Wolfgang's feet - one of which was stood upon his own tail.

Sighing cavernously, Wolfgang continued to rant. "This is just what I needed. Everything was going right for me. I was on a healthy, tofu diet and I was integrating into society brilliantly, after... what happened at my last town..."

Ellis looked up. "Wait, what happ-"

"It's not important!" Wolfgang snapped. "All that matters is that everything good in my life is once again ruined... Thanks to this stupid, inconvenient apocalypse! Well, go on then!"

Ellis looked up again. "What?"

"Say something encouraging! Say it, just so I can shoot you down!"

"Wow," Ellis spat. "Never guessed you were a closet douchebag."

Wolfgang held his scathing gaze steady. "I'm not. But this isn't exactly my day!"

"Just stay calm, Dr. W," Hugh cut in. "Everything will be fine."

"There we go!" Wolfgang beamed. "No, everything will not be okay, Hugh, you ditzy pig."

Hugh snorted aggressively. "Well, I sure won't be buying any more carpets for you."

"Carpets? I'll make you into a carpet, leather boy!"

"Enough!"

Ellis leapt off of the box he was sat upon, fists bunched.

"Guys, we can't be going at each others' throats like this! We've been in here how long?"

Hugh glanced at his glow-in-the-dark watch. "Uhhhhhh... Three minutes."

"Three minutes, and we're already threatening to make furniture out of each other? Can't you see how crazy this is?"

Wolfgang chuckled cruelly. "It only TAKES three minutes to make a carpet. The way I do it, anyway... With my claws."

Ellis pushed at the door fiercely, feeling the metal hinges creak, but continue to hold fast. Frustrated, he loosened his grip.

"Come on you two, help me push!"

Sighing, Wolfgang and Hugh moved next to Ellis. With all three bearing their weight, Ellis gave the order.

"Push!"

(-)

The town gate stood tall above the vortices of mist - a veritable lighthouse in the turmoil of the night.

Blathers arrived at the arch with very breaths left in his lungs. He bent over, wings rested on his thighs, red face dripping with perspiration. A few seconds later, Pierce was beside him. Then came Cooper and Booker, Sable and Mable, and finally Phyllis.

It seemed nobody else had made it. Least of all old Tortimer, who had been trampled to death back at the museum.

"If this doesn't work, we're all going to die, aren't we?" Pierce panted sombrely.

"It's gonna work," Blathers assured him. "Once Cooper and Booker here have opened the ga-"

Blathers' blathering cut off sharply, eyes widening, as he saw Booker being raised several feet off the ground by a demonic Resetti-pede.

The confused bulldog looked about himself sleepily. "What... Er... I..."

Blathers turned, covering his ears as the hound's head was crushed into a pulp of blood and bone.

"Inside!" Cooper bellowed.

Surprisingly, there were few objections. The group pelted into the building, legs blurring like those of a children's TV character whilst in motion.

Pierce, who was at the head of the crowd, suddenly slowed to a halt, head raising to gaze at the sinister sight in front of him. As the others arrived, they too stopped to stare, dumbfounded.

"Is that...?" Cooper whispered.

"Yes," Blathers said. "I do believe it is."

Where the gate had once stood was an enormous white and pink sheet of fog that swirled and churned like the waters of a hot tub.

"The entrance to the Other," Cooper concluded. "Which means there's no way out of here."

Blathers coughed gently, indicated he was about to start monologuing. "No quite so, actually. There's a way... And that's forward."

"Whaaaat?!" Came the collective cry of the crowd.

"Perhaps if we can find the source of the fog, we can stop this," Blathers explained. "We may as well try... There's nowhere else to go?"

Cooper looked at the faces in the crowd. Sure, there was fear there - but there was something else, too.

Bravery, perhaps.

Or maybe just constipation. It was hard to tell.

Pierce was the first to summarise his thoughts. "Me and my quads are down."

Cooper chimed in next. "Better than cowering in the corner."

Pelly looked across to Phyllis, who spat a lump of gum onto the floor.

"Better than staying here," she concurred.

"Alright," Blathers cried. "Is everyone in?"

The crowd cheered. A determined grin broke across the owl's beak.

"Then let's go cancel this apocalypse!" he Idris Elba'd.

- Five Hours Later -

Wolfgang sat in the corner, back against the wall, staring out with wide eyes. He was cradling himself, whispering inaudible but sinister-sounding phrases.

"Well, he's lost it," Hugh said.

"It's only been five hours," Ellis remarked. "His fuse must be shorter than I thought."

"Do you think... We're safe from him?" Hugh wondered. Ellis just sighed inwardly to himself.

"Toff... Toff... Need... toff..." Wolfgang gurgled.

"Toff?" Hugh asked. "You want toffee?"

"He means Tofu," Ellis said. "His tofu diet. If he doesn't eat the stuff, he starts to have cravings..."

Hugh's eyebrows shot up. "Cravings for what...?"

Both shot to attention as Wolfgang suddenly rose up onto both feet, turning to face the duo with a strange glint in his eye. His tongue, drenched in saliva, lulled out at the corner of his mouth.

"Hugh?" he whispered throatily.

Hugh looked startled at the drop of his name. "M-m-me?"

Wolfgang looked him straight in the face, and the glint grew deeper.

And darker.

"Why... what a delicious nose you have..." Wolfgang chuckled.

Hugh laughed nervously. "I'm not food, you silly plonker. It's me, Hugh! Your bud! Dr. W?"

"Hugh..." Ellis said, warily pulling his porcine companion back.

"What succulent trotters..." Wolfgang whispered, drooling at the mouth now.

"Dr. W, you are one crazy jokester..." Hugh laughed. "You've actually got me convinced you want to eat me!"

Wolfgang did not share the humour. He started to advance on Hugh, slobbering and muttering incomprehensibly of pulled pork and barbecue sauce.

"Hugh!" Ellis cried.

Suddenly, Wolfgang lunged, claws outstretched. Ellis pulled Hugh aside, causing his attacker to instead barrel into the locked door, which popped open on impact.

"Are we playing a game?" A dazed Hugh asked as he sat up, smiling goofily.

"Hugh, we have to go now!" Ellis yelled.

By now, Wolfgang was back on his feet. His back arched as a furious howl was expelled from his throat.

"Gooo!" Ellis screamed, tugging Hugh through the doorway, and running for his life.

(-)

Blathers awoke with a jolt. He sat up, eyes sweeping the area inquisitively.

He was alone in the middle of a strange stone courtyard. The perimeter of the yard was walled by thick white fog, and it seemed as though there was no leaving. Indeed, it was like a jail cell, only the walls were not constructed of brick and mortar but the cloudy perimeters of hell itself.

"Oh, eh?" The disturbed avian muttered, rising tentatively with liquid fear hurtling through his veins.

"BLATHERS."

The booming voice came out of the very air. Blathers shook, like lightning had coursed down his back, at the very sound. He felt a thousand watchful eyes land upon him, his back arching and talons twitching as he realised that he was not alone in this strange place.

"WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU," the voice boomed again.

"Who are you?" Blathers cried disparately to the thin air. His call was met with a reply, and with it, the fog lifted from the world, revealing his true surroundings.

"WE ARE THE TIMELESS, THE IMMORTAL, THE CREATORS."

"Oh my," Blathers whispered.

He was in a courtroom, and every seat in the aisles was occupied by a different, oddly-shaped, horribly-contorted being.

"WE ARE THE COUNCIL OF THE GYROIDS," the voice boomed again. "AND WE ARE HERE TO WEIGH YOUR SOUL."

!