Epilogue:

"If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers, also." - Robert Louis Stevenson, "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde"

Five years had passed since that fateful day. With Jurgen gone, Konrad started to suffer severe bouts of depression and became increasingly withdrawn from everyone, Dieter especially, despite his best efforts to keep the Baron active and from sinking into a total blackhole. His mind seemed to be slipping away from him; there would be times where he would catch himself muttering something aloud without even realizing, sometimes forgetting certain details.

Even worse was the sheer crushing sense of isolation.

He felt alone in a way he never thought possible.

Konrad tried reaching out to someone, anyone. Part of him wanted to call a hotline, but Konrad was too proud and reluctant to do so. Once, he had attempted calling Mila's house, not knowing why.

Perhaps to apologise? Perhaps because he just wanted to hear a voice and craved human contact? To explain himself? That he had been thinking of her? Boredom? The truth was that Konrad himself was uncertain as to the actual reason. Perhaps there was no reason behind it all.

When someone finally answered, he found himself unsure what to say. Muttering that he called the wrong number, Konrad hung up and sat there in his bedroom, staring blankly at the wall. On most occasions, he remained in bed, only getting up when he either needed to go to the bathroom or wanted to get something to eat or drink, both of which brought little enthusiasm to the aristocrat. It was only through Dieter's constant pushing that he was able to get anything done. Reluctantly pushing himself out from his bed and settling into his wheelchair, he put on his apparel with indifference. Not even bothering to check himself, he rolled himself out from his room, deciding to pay a visit to his increasingly growing menagerie of horrors.

In the dungeon, Konrad saw RIPTOR feasting on the remains of some animal, he couldn't tell what. Tearing a large chunk of flesh from its prey's ribcage, the beast paid him no mind as it hungrily consumed its meal.

In the freezer, he saw Glacius give him curious looks, purring and whistling in its native tongue as he passed by.

Peering into the upgraded containment chamber, he saw Cinder doing pushups as he was being monitored by scientists, his head and face entirely concealed within a metallic featureless mask, while parts of his emaciated and fiery body were armored with wires protruding from the arms. On his back between the shoulder blades, held in place by four screws was a constantly running turbine that helped decrease his temperature and maintain pressure. Glancing up to the Baron without even pausing, Cinder's fiery eyes narrowed disgustedly in his direction as he gave him the middle finger.

Drawing open the slots, Konrad peered into the tiny windows and saw his newest additions.

In one heavily reinforced cell was a massive figure, an eight foot tall hunchbacked being with crudely designed and awkwardly proportioned arms, hand and feet. Made from bronze with parts missing, it was held together by various vines, plant life and rocks, its left arm a massive vine-wrapped, sharp-faced boulder. A mishmash of styles, notably Akkadian, Mycenaean, and Archaic, the metal green from age, its head was an Archaic-styled sculpture that had three distinct faces with geometrically-patterned, zig-zagging beards on its chins, two of which had archaic smiles, while the third sculpted face in the middle was drawn into an angry wrathful expression with an open mouth. Kneeling on one knee, it sat unmoving from its position.

Taking out an emerald from his cloak, Konrad studied the jewel that had been embedded in its forehead, then glanced to the empty space from where it had been removed. To think something so small was capable of animating something so large and powerful as the golem was incredible to him. Without it, the thing was immobile.

Turning away from the golem, Konrad regarded the next creature, a being that he absolutely abhorred and feared far more than its neighbor.

A pale girl with long black hair sat in the center of its containment cell. Dressed in the tattered remnants of a red kimono that was held in place by a red obi sash around the waist and decorated with white lotus flower designs, she held within both hands a long naginata that had a red ribbon tied around the blade, staring at the floor in silence.

Konrad shuddered as he stared at the creature.

Even though she was the smallest within his gallery, only five-four in height, and was seemingly passive, he didn't allow himself for even a moment to fall for her deceptively frail appearance, for the last person that had was twisted into impossible and gruesome shapes. When she raised her eyes to meet his, Konrad slammed the slot shut instantly and fled, his fur standing on end.

Peering down from a catwalk that overlooked a surgical amphitheater, Konrad saw clusters of doctors and researchers surround a single subject. Strapped to a table was a sleek though imposing mechanical figure; while nowhere near as large as either the golem or RIPTOR, it was tall, about six-five in height and weighed over five hundred and sixty pounds. Grey in color with ball-joint limbs, it had a featureless faceplate with a skull-like head and an orange pony tail at the top. Snaking out from beneath its cheeks on both sides of its "face" were two pairs of cables that looped out, one pair connecting to the back of its head while another looped around its shoulders. On its robust arms were a pair of curved, scythe-like blades.

"Testing in three...two...one," a researcher counted down before typing into a nearby monitor.

The lenses flickered on. Staring up at him with hellishly slanted glowing red eyes that formed a perpetually drawn angry death glare, its body outlined by the blue hues of its superheated plasma blades, Konrad shuddered as he witnessed the birth of Fulgore. With the harsh chiaroscuro lighting and the way in which hues illuminated parts of its body, it looked almost like an angel of death that had been granted physical form.

Troubled by how it seemed to watch him, Konrad quickly turned away, rolling along the catwalk.

As he tirelessly maneuvered around the mansion, he looked to the ceiling.

'What have I done wrong?' he thought bitterly.

Hadn't he done everything he could to be a better person? Hadn't he tried being a good person? Why was he being punished? What kind of a bastard was he in life to suffer the way he has to?

Things were going so terribly wrong, and at the same time, so terribly right. Letting out a weary sigh, Konrad rolled down a corridor, pondering to himself.

Later, he found himself lying face first on the sofa in his private den, watching television. Reaching out with his remote control, he flicked indifferently through the channels, uncaring for whatever was shown on screen before stopping as an advert caught his attention.

"Available for your home for $19.95, "Killer Instinct" uncut and uncensored!" a voice boomed.

He impassively watched the commercial as it showcased various fights with voice-over commentary. Flicking it off, he pushed himself up and moved to his messy desk, staring at the various cluttered toys and posters of varying sizes, his eyes narrowing at the title and tagline of the latter.

"Coming soon: "Killer Instinct". Monsters will have their day."

Clenching his fists, he swatted the toys away with a frustrated yell before collapsing into his wheelchair, cupping his head into his hands. As if in reply, a laugh echoed from upstairs.

Looking to the ceiling, Konrad's lips curled angrily. Leaving the room, the aristocrat rolled through the mansion aimlessly until finally he decided on a little visit.

It struggled to get loose from its bindings.

Staring with hate and loathing, Konrad regarded the little shit.

"It's over, you bastard," the former muttered. "Get your own errand boy to do your masters' bidding. I'm finished."

The skeleton tilted its head, its glowing red eyes watching him. Looking away, Konrad glanced to the ceiling.

That will due.

Climbing onto his wheelchair, he then tossed up a long cord of rope over a wooden beam, then grabbed the other end and tied it into a knot. Testing it, he checked to make sure it was taut and secure. Once he felt certain that it would hold, the Baron began to tie the rest around his neck. He was tired of living, and he would be damned if he stayed around for another minute. He didn't care what happened to his estate or the company. He didn't even care anymore about the creatures in his house.

'They can all go to hell,' he thought with loathing.

After thirty-five years of struggling and worrying, it will all come to an end, and he looked forward to it.

'Nobody will care,' he thought grimly. Not Dieter. Not David. Especially not Mila.

What was there to live for?

For every attempt made to find a cure, for every artifact discovered, it results disaster, in a new monster being brought into the fold. He was tired of being the sheepdog to whatever shit joke the universe has in store.

Once he finished tying, Konrad waited, sighing.

'This is it!' he thought. End of the line.

With that in mind, Konrad kicked the wheelchair out from underneath him, then felt the rope jerk tightly around his throat. He gagged as his throat constricted, his lungs burning as he struggled to breathe.

'Just a little bit longer! Just a little bit longer!' he thought determinedly. His vision was starting to fade and lose focus.

Almost there!

As his vision darkened, Konrad allowed himself to smile for the first time in ages.

He was starting to feel happy, the happiest he had been in a long time.

'It will be all over soon,' he thought assuredly.

He didn't care whether he went to heaven or not - he just wanted to be free!

Seconds counted by as his eyes bugged out from their sockets.

After thirty-five years of suffering, Konrad will finally come to a merciful end.

Almost-

An audible snap interrupted Konrad's thoughts as he painfully crashed to the floor, causing Spinal to howl uproariously with laughter. Pushing himself up with a groan, the Baron examined the rope, wondering what the hell happened, then found his answer.

'Figures,' he thought as he chucked the pieces aside. The rope had snapped underneath his heavy weight.

'Well what else did you expect to happen when you're as fat as a fucking pig?!' he self-admonished.

Even when it came to killing himself, Konrad was a fuckup.

"Baron! Are you okay?" he heard Dieter call from below.

Konrad shook his head with a frown. Shit.

"Ja, I'm fine!" he called back.

Creaking up the ladder, the bodyguard pulled himself up.

"Are you hurt?! What happened?"

Konrad waved him away.

"It's fine, mein freund, it's fine," he assured. "I just tripped on some damn toy. Go back down, I'll meet you there in a second."

"Are you sure?"

"Ja, ja."

Once Dieter was gone, Konrad sat still for a moment. It would seem fate didn't want him to die today. Picking himself off the floor, Konrad dusted himself off and made his descent back down, dreading what tomorrow would bring.

"The gods have many shapes.

The gods bring many things to their accomplishment.

And what was most expected has not been accomplished.

But god has found his way for what no man expected.

So ends this story." - Euripides, "The Bacchae"