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Amrita's pleading actually hurt. Otto wasn't heartless. he was human. He may have disliked the ghoul, but he didn't hate her. She was a pain, at worst. His heart clenched. Duty versus his humanity. He reasoned that Tack was not a scheduled weaponization like Aleria was, despite the convenience of his innocence.

Maybe the machine needed a breather, after all. Don't want it to overheat.

Otto moved back to the console, and tried to stop whatever Tack had started.

As always, Thackery remained entirely oblivious to the reality of what was happening, and seemed even more thrilled when Amrita got more hugs in time to watch his super cool initiation.

Hunters were just so nice!

Otto hissed audibly, a breath sucked in as if he'd been punched in the gut. Not only had he maybe broken the machine, he'd accidentally failed at weaponizing a student he'd just tried not to weaponize.

Guilt settled in immediately. Panic soon after. His brow began to sweat, his ears rang. The button had been red. He'd just assume it meant stop. That was logical, right? Why didn't it stop it? It was the programmer's fault! Not his! He didn't mean to do this!

Otto's mouth formed a thin line, and he backed away from the console shakily.

That ridiculous, oblivious expression of excitement remained on Thackery's face until the word 'weaponization' reached him, muffled through the closed cylinder. It was only then that realization began to set in, and his ears slowly began to droop, followed by a bewildered frown, wide eyes apologetically staring out at Amrita.

His tail stopped wagging.

The concept of becoming a weapon was not entirely unappealing, but he had been so certain that he would never allow himself to go through the process as long as he had friends in Halloween to protect. Some of them so rarely made it to their world that he doubted he might ever see some of his friends again; with the promises he'd made, that was never going to work. A promise of protection was one of the most serious things he could ever do, and he never, ever intended to break any of them. A Cerberus was only as good as his word, as far as he was concerned - he feared that he had been a very bad dog.

Like a pet left out in the rain, his fingers pressed against the chamber, pawing pathetically at the door. A panicked flood of helpless whimpers began to fill the cylinder as he stared down his demise, so close that he thought he could smell the finality.

It was that or the smoke. He had no chance to differentiate between the two: as it began to fill the chamber and the air around it, he opened his mouth to cry for help, and was silenced by the deafening crackle of electricity.

The pain was more agonizing than anything he could remember enduring, incomparable to anything he'd ever experienced in all of his existence. It surged through him, from chest to fingertips to the end of his tail. It felt as if he were being torn apart, with clawed, greedy hands hooking itself into his skin and bones and pulling until there were only pieces left, raking their cruel, needlelike fingers through everything that remained.

It hurt so badly.

He had been a good dog, hadn't he?

He tried to be a good dog.

What had he done to deserve this punishment?

When he opened his eyes again, he could no longer see Amrita or the hunters. None of it looked very familiar, in fact, but the whispers were encouraging at least. They told him that he wasn't alone. He didn't want to be alone. This might not be so bad after all.

Especially if he got to be friends with the human that was waiting for him, wearing clothes he really liked. It might have been a human girl, he thought, judging from her height. In any case, she seemed like she would be a really good friend. And it was so nice of her to welcome him into her home!

With a smile and a wagging tail to properly greet her, he bounded in her direction, eager to feel all of the comforts of home again.

Silence.

That was the way everything ended, and the way everything should have been. A moment where the core was nothing before slowly, always steadily pulling itself together, creating the body which belonged.

Nothing happened but white. There was white everywhere it was white but also grey but also fog and it smelled like home. For a single, perfect moment, he could have abandoned everything to find a greater, a better home. For a single perfect moment he was imperfect.

"Hello." There was someone and she was holding something that smelled like rainbows but it wasn't her. It was just a stranger who had been waiting at this very place a little longer than Thackery.

"Hello," she repeated, and pulled a little closer, drawing more form from the white. It was all smiles now and still rainbows and she stepped closer, "are you a little lost?"

She reached over to pet him-

- and her hand reached violet. There was a terrible hissing noise and she too shrieked, suddenly jarring and terrible, confused and upset at the unexpected memory -

-" I call upon all the Kings and all their Kingdoms. The time of the True King is near. Fight - glory - and - also - know --"

- And then in that fast infinite white, the rainbows fled and in front of what was once Thackery was none other than the King of Reflection.

Noise, everywhere.

Both Halloween seance enthusiasts had started squabbling with each other over the theories of failed weaponization when he returned. The Violet King and yet not, his shape and form greatly diminished, just bare pieces of it struggling to hold together.

"This-this is bad. We can't let our first successful summon just die like this," the figure taller than Otto clutched at their hood. "We got to get him back to his native habi- Oz, stop reading the manual and help me here"-

-"I'm not reading I was meditating," the guy shorter than Otto said, but ran over and grabbed at Thack's slowly unravelling feet. They struggled for a bit, then finally resolved to wrap the cerberus in one of the large seance blankets, each Hunter holding one end. "This way." This was said to Amrita as the taller of the two made shooing motions at Mimsy and Otto. "Go away, filty humans are not allowed in this cleansing exercise."

They didn't really wait to see if Mimsy or Otto was actually following as they slowly made their way to the Lighthouse portal.

"Wait- hang on- break time!" The guy named Oz wheezed and sat straight on the sand with legs crossed. He looked like a darker skinned dark-haired version of Death division's favourite two midgets with his meditation hood off, and had thick eyeliner smeared on each eye, one like the Eye of Ra, and the other like God Knows What. "I shall meditate to the dark gods to return our summoned creature to his original sta- ouch!"

"The dark gods have forsaken us!" the girl said loudly, wearing just as much eyeliner. She had a star marked on one chin and a dark black moon on the other and was about two facepaint jobs away from looking like a very goth clown. "We must summon a circle of protection to prevent further wrath."

They both nodded sagely and began to draw a protective circle on the sand marked with special characters and text they had taken off "A beginner's guide to Fear (Vol 1)".

Mimsy was late.

This was enough of a red flag on it's own, when Robert realized nobody had walked through the door of the cafeteria at the exact time she'd told him to meet her. But he was usually late, so he gave her some slack. For ten minutes. Twenty. An hour.

And still he hadn't heard from her.

Earlier, she'd told him she was meeting a friend. This, too, should have thrown up a red flag. But he ignored it as well, until it compounded with her lateness, and he was forced to act. She'd told him where she was headed, because it made perfect sense. It wasn't as if he ever had a reason to come for her, and never had before.

The day was going to be full of surprises.

The shock of who Mimsy was meeting with was the first blow to strike. He hadn't gotten close enough to hear, or understand the details, but he'd watched from a very safe distance, until they disappeared inside. He watched, and writhed with the knowledge that she was on this island. She was standing on their ground. Touching his girl. Breathing the same air as him. How dare she be so bold as to come all this way on her own. And how rude of her to do so, and not stop by to say hello.

Amrita.

He saw red, coating his vision with throbbing rage. She'd torn him almost in half - she'd entered his body. Twice. And now she was here. On his home turf.

Here. On his home turf.

Rage turned to sick, twisted pleasure.

When they'd disappeared inside, Robert made the trek up to the Lighthouse. His feet shifted in the sand, which could have given him away if it wasn't a well trodden area. Big bootfalls carved their marks with each step, until he was just inside the door. There, very patiently, he waited to be rewarded with another sight of her. It didn't take as long as he'd expected - but when she exited, it was with a lot less of her kind, and lot more of his.

A pleasant surprise, for once. Too bad it wasn't meant to last.

He'd just barely seen it, but for a split second, she'd been in Mimsy's arms. His chest heaved in gasping breaths as his worlds collided, smashing together violently. He couldn't stand this. He couldn't wait to kill her. That would make everything okay, again. Everything. All he had to do was kill her. It was his job, right? No one would ever fault him just one more kill.

They stopped. Why were they stopping? The hunters - at least, he hoped that's what they were, their faces almost made him second guess the assumption - were drawing circles in the sand. Robert started to hyperventilate - Mimsy and Otto hadn't left yet, but he knew he only had seconds. Maybe not even that. Seconds before they would catch him, stop him, tell him no. Bad Robert. No.

He was out of the Lighthouse before he could hear another silent admonition. The sand kept him from making too much noise, which was a blessing, because he was running hard. His hands were around her body and over her mouth before he'd even stopped, and he skidded into a turn, carrying her off like a sack into the Abandoned Town nearby. They disappeared into the very first house he could find, before anyone had time to miss her.

She never should have pitied her friends. Their fates had been kind, compared to what he planned for her. She couldn't help them - and now, no one could help her.