It remained deadly silent outside the factory in the underground graveyard. The two knights were still as mice hiding on their stomachs hiding underneath a sarcophagus. There were plenty of larvae, and whole beetles leaking out from holes in the ground below them. Their breath froze, as they both shivered.

"Psst it looks like the coast is clear man," said Zito.

Mooseman let out a multi stage rumbling cough in acknowledgement.

"It's getting colder every second in this death trap.. We either keep waiting on the king to return and conserve our energy, or go find a fire to heat our bones," he said, hacking snot at a cobweb, but it was iced mid trajectory to target.

Zito was trying to crawl, but his legs weren’t cooperating.

“Well my legs have decided to go asleep on me, but I wanna warm my body before danger presents itself again,” he said, limping to his feet.

Mooseman struggled, groaning to climb from out under the hiding spot.

“I'd rather die on my feet than my stomach which does not have the same insulation levels as yours in this frigid temperature,” stated Zito.

“Ok boss,” said Mooseman, dusting off a heavy coating of mummy dust.

The pair of them emerged from the tomb to a large entryway. The claustrophobic walls hung with thumb tacked posters full of strange symbols. A row of staging ran the wall reaching the stone ceiling in two sections. There wires ran over everything originating from three large spools scattered around, and a fuse box half installed. Many piles of construction materials took up the middle of the floor running to the exit. A set of shovels hung on the wall coated in dirt.

“Well there’s the door err in this case permanently open engraved rock archway,” said Mooseman, taking the lead outside.

The snowflakes fell here in this small radius area through a hole in the ceiling directly above. The previously walking dead who had terrorized the living had been absorbed into the crab creature. This spot was farthest away from where the creature had chased after King Edward. The two knights stood on the steps looking over a dead yard below them where the grass was thinning like an ancient hairline. A giant statue of a muscled figure stood clad in jester uniform among the standard graveyard features.

“No sense wasting anymore time. Let's find out if our king has joined the dead,'' said Mooseman, double checking he was locked and loaded by sliding down the slide an inch to expose a red shell.

Zito looked at his comrade fidgeting and pacing overfilled with anxiety. He shrugged while eating a caramel protein bar that matched his patchy beard. Looking at the ceiling where crystal types sparkled through the grime.

“Good news is the dead are dead again, the picture has been restored to color vision, and maybe luck is on our side,” said Zito, extending a fist.

“Don’t jinx us with your mouth fool jeez,” said Mooseman, completing the bump.

“It’s all emo with you haha. Man let’s celebrate a return to normalcy, and get free from this dumping ground,” laughed Zito.

They started on an iron rung bridge crossing over what must have been quicksand camouflaged underneath dead flowers. A rat darted in between a nearby stack of identical coffins. The wind howled and moaned above driving hairs on end with cold spookiness.

Mooseman ducked behind cover. He had spotted a moving skeleton at the edge of his vision. He ran, tackling oblivious Zito who had become distracted by a shiny object, and lugged him behind the coffins just in time. There was additional armor creaking on the other side of the hidden knights aiming their weapons.

“I can’t let him see me like this hehe,” a hoarse voice cackled out of nowhere.

The red torch light cast moving shadows.

“I will soon trap a dead husband forever with me, but first I need a veil, and a fresh dress,” said Nancy.

“What do you intend to do mama, paint your skull with pretty patterns to attract him,” a shrill voice replied.

“Hehehe be nice If you want an invite to a dead wedding among these tombs or I’ll rip you up again little leprechaun,”

“Uh huh, but you need my eyes so just keep holding my hand. I'll protect you,” said Rotom, leading as a seeing-eye zombie.

The blind witch found herself led smacking right into a stack of coffins. The knights stared into the empty sockets and lunging bones attacking. Mooseman aimed, while Zito crouched underneath and covered his ears.

“Where did your better brother runoff anyway Mickey? We just got him sewed back together,” she asked. .

“I’m Ratom miss. You're a good seamstress if only your eyes were working,” said the leprechaun.

“A trading of organs will be performed with my witchcraft. You see if I take away my lover's eyes he won’t see my skeletal features,” she sighed.

A growling noise responded. Suddenly Mickey launched himself for the shadows. The leprechaun was stuffed with zombie crystals and had more stitches onboard than a sailboat. His face looked like it had been lifted off a scarecrow, and he even had patches of straw sticking from his overalls. He jumped with mouth open to bite Mooseman. He had successfully latched on but had no teeth or tongue left to rip in with.

“AAA,” Mooseman cried, struggling with the attacker biting above the shotgun.

“Boom,”.

The boomstick knocked out the broomstick from the skeleton witch and launched her away. Nancy flew underneath the moon and impacted somewhere in the cavern. Mooseman pumped in another red shell while fighting off the small zombie latched to his back. The pellets he just shot had wedged deep inside Nancy’s Elven plotting armor also cushioned the fall from breaking any bones or grace.

Mooseman head butted the small zombie that remained undeterred. The second leprechaun jumped from the shadows, and gnashed his teeth at Zito who kicked the attacker ¾ his height directly at Mooseman.

“Oops watch out man incoming,” he said.

Mooseman’s reflexes instantly responded punted the creature with a kick into the coffins, as he continued to be bitten by its brother. Zito slammed the dead wood over The stack crashed over crushing something tiny.

“Crunch”

“Boom,”.

The shotgun shredded apart the stitched together body. It exploded into raining goose feathers and other stuffings onto the men. The head detached, and ate the air as it went sailing through after Nancy.

“What the fuck,” exclaimed Mooseman, sitting on the coffins.

“First aid coming up,” said Zito, reaching into his backpack.

“Give me the kit, I'll do it myself,” said the injured knight, relighting his cigar.

“Ahh smart thinking using the tobacco to cauterize the wound,” said Zito, tapping his forehead.

“Huh?..” Mooseman continued puffing. “Look I've got one item on my bucket list and that's to finish this stogie before I’m dead so I figure I need to finish it now, ” he finished, removing a tackle box like tin marked “medical stuff” from his pack.

A bandage was ripped off the roll, and the scissors started cutting some stitches. Mooseman ripped off his torn shirt to reveal wounds in his muscles. He began to wrap bandages through a jungle of hairs. When he finished he outstretched his arm.

“C'mon give me your medical gear,” he said, looking mean.

“Alright” said Vito, handing over the tin with a threaded needle. “How about a puff of that for myself you know to steady my nerves before I sew?” He asked.

Mooseman grunted, and turned in the other direction with an open tin on his lap, and scissors in one hand. “Oh no I’m gonna do it myself thanks,”.

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Meanwhile deeper in the mysterious core of the planet Edward was in trouble. His limited air supply bubbled away from the man's lungs. He raced against time swimming forward with his muscles on fire. Edward’s vision dampened underwater in a factory fish tank that was frigid, full of plastic props, and bootlicker eggs. If only he could pull the plug the place would be drained. The problem was he had to somehow reach the bottom of the pool before death caught up to him.

“hahah,” laughed Ned, slotted among many skulls on the giant crab in hot pursuit.

The large boney claws clacked, and clicked. Its swimmerets chopped the water like a propeller. It dove down blocking the path to drainage. Its skulls beamed red eyes like headlights while the mouths hissed together like a hot tub on the fritz.

“Where are you going?” laughed Ned.

The crabs severed head fused to hundreds of other human skeletons making up the monster. The claws however marked grave danger. Edward’s crown was almost cut off by the swiping claws. He aimed his hook launcher, dodging the threat, and fired through the water.

The wires flew after it underneath the monster's shell towards the intended target. The creature angled itself and swam forward for another fight with a raised fat claw to separate a head. It instead cut the cable attached to the hook.

The crab slammed downward in a special move. It intercepted the wires with the hard shell of an entire graveyard fused together. Edward's arm was ripped forward. He flung towards hundreds of gnashing teeth.

The remaining oxygen was almost completely sucked away from him. Edward used the very last of his strength to latch onto the key hooked to the side of the empty hand launcher. He started winding himself in like a fisherman.

While the key continued automatically twisting wildly into veins pulling whatever remained of the line that had been severed. The big claw snapped like a guillotine, but It couldn't reach the man in the blind spot underneath. Without warning Edward sprung forward into a flying sucker punch directly into the creature. It was knocked back, and momentarily stunned.

"Welcome to team dead haha," taunted Ned, as the rest of the monster was maneuvering for the final attack.

Edward was too out of breath to talk back while his head pulsed dark warning signals of fading consciousness. He ignored them and raised his hardened attachment for the final showdown. His muscles ached, convulsed, twitched threatening to give out. The stump fell like a sledgehammer.

“Wham,”.

The smacked crab formed small cracks in its white shell. Edward aimed at the filtration system and fired the remaining wires. Nearby a crystal cutter fell overboard from the rail it had been finally unhooked from. It fell toward the target with thrashing claws, and harpooned the thing like a whale.

“Ooof,” said Ned, his upper shell had really started cracking apart.

“Kerplunk,”.

The sharpened hook cut straight through the bone and began to unclog the drain below. What remained of the stopper was sucked in by the force of the fleeing water. The drain sputtered, beginning to suck in anything close. The crab’s shell was caught in the vortex. The claws wildly swung as the creature was trapped in the drain too small. The water began to rush through the shell of leaky bones, pulling them slowly apart under pressure.

The creature broke apart running down the drain in pieces. The last claw disappeared,as the water level rapidly lowered. Edward was out cold zooming to the surface. The fish tank floor was rapidly emptying itself. Plastic seaweed, and kelp hung in the air from wires.

The drain gargled, drinking the remainder of the small pool of fish eggs on the incline below him. Edward drooled at the pool edge and was knocked out. Nearby the two remaining Bootlickers clung to the hanging props sobbing.

“We have failed to continue our species,” cried one.

“We have failed our computer lord,” cried the other.

The last water trickled down the drain of an empty pool. A man with one hand lay like a starfish hanging to the former waterline. His boots leaked as both were removed. The man’s stump wedged in the pool filter he hung from. The sounds of crying and licking grew in scope. He woke to two Bootlickers lugging off his boots. Edward choked heaving liquid snot preventing breathing.

“Hey I guess you want to become extinct in this place,” he threatened, struggling to pull out his stump from where it had clogged.

Two fish finished climbing a ladder out of the pool. They ran along the poolside into the guts of a dark factory. Edward spit into his good hand and applied it to the stuck object. With the help of the natural lube he ripped his arm from the suction, but he was left hanging by a thread. He unsheathed a knight's sword he had borrowed, cutting the retractable wires recently attached to a hook and much longer.

Edward landed on bare feet. He promptly inspected himself briefly to confirm he was still living. He reinserted the sword, winded in what remained of the wires into a spring shooter, and placed the winding key in his pocket.

He sprinted to the pool's ladder to chase. He had two more lives to catch for sacrifice here so going back to the mainframe was still on the table. If he was lucky the third one he had in mind was still living.

The fleeing bootlickers had disappeared into an office maze of cubicles. He had lost them in the sprawling room causing him to sputter in frustration. With a good hand holding his head from collapsing. He spotted what looked wrinkly royal leather sticking around the bend in one path. “Hah” he said, slipping it on.

The path continued around a set of desks full of family portraits of fish. A degree for acceptance into a fancy looking Bootlicker school hung on the wall. Cobwebs and dust covered an empty desk by a janitor's closet. The area changed to a hallway full of battle scarred tack boards lacking papers but full of damage.

A sign read “safe houses access entrance”. An alarm started blasting around the corner as the building's sprinklers activated overhead. Edward sprinted around the corner with an uneven gait.

The two could be seen through the glass slit in a metal door trying to reinforce with objects. They jumped as a stump sized dent blew out above their flippers

“Ah ha,” cried Edward, clearing the sharp shards away from the pane with his boot.

His eyes spotted his other shoe dropping, as his enemies fled to a control panel and began slapping buttons with fishy fingers.

“Grrr” said Edward arm stuck through the entry unlocking.

“Oh no he’s coming” called a fish.

“Don’t hurt us,” they cried, hugging near a ledge marked with yellow tap warnings.

The door slammed open and a maniac walked into a bare platform overlooking a void underneath railings. The place began to shake. A tiny home on rails was descending behind the bootlickers trapped onboard. The porch pulled up and they jumped onboard. Edward finished tying his laces to look up in surprise.

“Where do you think you're going?” He called, sprinting forward.

A shriek loudly penetrated eardrums with flippers slamming the main entrance followed by loud bolting. The room began to rumble as gear moved the floating mobile residence swinging back into motion. The deck was pulling away from the platform leaving a rapidly expanding gap to fall into darkness . Edward lunged forward like a madman jumping at the last second. He slammed into the deck webbing grabbing onto a railing. He pulled himself onto the decking. A panel of the main door was splintered apart by a stump sledgehammer.

“Here comes Eddy,” he said, relishing in the fear he was causing his victims.

The fishy shrieking reverberated around the house before the back door slammed.

“Nowhere to run I’m coming inside,” he taunted, smiling as he retracted his stump launcher from the opening.

Edward ran towards the edge of the deck to find it wasn’t a wrapping porch and there was only one way in. .

“Here I go overthinking when I’m destined to be brutish,” he laughed. .

The tiny entry busted apart into pulp. The monster entered ducking. The living room greeted him with a small couch and a loveseat covered in plastic. The floor was shag carpet, and there was strange looking lighting due to embroidered lamp shades. A bookshelf was empty, and the walls were bare with no windows. He walked past a mint kitchen sparkling factory clean.

The back door was pulverized and kicked into the void below with a combo. The bootlickers quivered in fear at the edge of the back deck.

“I’ve got you cornered now,” said Edward,

He got closer, his long black hair flowing wildly attacked by the sharp wind. The two fish stared back in fear. They turned holding hands, and walked over the edge.

“Nooo. Damn there goes my tickets out of this prison,” cried Edward, rushing forward.

He looked below to see them plopped on the roof of another floating tiny home directly beneath. One of the fish stuck a tongue out at Edward.

He gave them the finger and jumped after. He smashed into the dwelling's roof right into the living room. There he lay motionless sprawled over a shattered glass coffee table. It had collapsed legs, and a book that matched. The ceiling fan hung sideways sparking lightning overhead. The fish flapped into the kitchen. The nearby couches had feet sticking out from them.

Edward threw himself to his feet. In the living room corner a body was wrapped in tarp. It sat completely still with a head sticking out that looked like a dead elf under a plastic bag.

“You've picked the wrong party to crash,” a sly inhuman voice called.

“Who are you?” asked Edward, spinning around confused.

An S ranked Elf clad in badges declaring it, and layers of exotic cloth raised a green glowing wine glass. The business tie was a pyramid with their image, and likeness on top of the triangle. Gathered around them on the laying on couches the less stylish elves lounged.

“I believe you tried to kill me before,” said the standing Elf boss.

“Yeah, let's get this mobile home to a teleport station immediately before I have to try again,” said Edward clapping. “Chop, chop.. well I can’t really threaten that anymore, but bash bash I can” he finished.

“No I don’t think so,” said the fancy Elf sipping. “You must meet our species' latest technological marvel. A super obedient cyborg soldier. I have fixed the Elven species' main exploitation,”.

“What?” said Edward, pausing.

“Look behind you for the surprise,” announced the boss Elf.

He spun, and the tarp had fallen. The plastic head bag remained on the armored body that was light in neon tubes, and gears beginning to turn. It jolted to life with a plume of steam, sitting up in the medical chair. Underneath the clear plastic bag over the head a motherboard revealed itself in R.G.B. strapped over one of the eyes, the other was brown.

“Them Cyborg Brains is online,” it said in a 16 bit tone.

“T.C.B. would you kill King Edward please," instructed the head Elf executive.

“Roger,” it replied.

On one of the robot hands was what looked like a hand mixer. A much bigger and sharper looking one than the kind used by royal bakers. It began to spin as the cyborg laughed in a robotic fashion. Ironically the King had done a very similar thing after tiring of a former needy husband always hogging the bathtub.

The elves scuttled out the back entrance after their boss who had fled first. The cyborg stomped forward threatening to derail the building due to its heavy armor.

“Let’s investigate how to kill a King of humans," laughed the cyborg maniacally.