“WAIT!” Mr. Brusque commanded, raising his hands in a placative gesture. “I’ll be your guy on the inside!”

Thankfully, Amy’s patterns slowed their dance. He could almost look at her without feeling them burn at his brain. She was still straight up nightmare fuel, though.

Amy looked at his upraised hands. Her perpetual grin didn’t even twitch, but he somehow felt as though she’d smirked.

“̴͎̩͛̐WH̷̱̤͘͠AT̷̰̝͋̀ ̶̥̫̊̋Ȃ̶̹̔R̷̘̫͝Ę̸̟̎̕ ̶̭̔YO̸̤͔͐U̵̹̍̋? ̵̩̭̂̒ ̴̹̘̑̍OẂ̴̟̖̓E̶͓͝Ǹ̷͍̗ ̶̝͈͐͑GR̴̡̭̈̾A̵̖̕DÝ̶͙̺?”̷̺͓́̐

she asked.

Mr. Brusque’s eyes winced shut. His mind reeled under the force of her skull-splitting voice. He almost collapsed, dimly aware that he did not appreciate the joke.

“Too bad. I think it was funny,” Amy commented. “In here, my word is law, and therefore it was funny.”

His eyes squinted open. Did she just … dial back her power for his sake? It seemed her compassion wasn’t entirely gone, which meant she was still a sucker. If only she hadn’t taken his keychain. It felt like missing a limb but, but it probably wouldn’t help him, and he wouldn’t need it. He could take advantage of her kindness as it was.

“I’m literally in your head, so no, you cannot,” Amy corrected.

He frowned. Knowing his thoughts would not change anything. She’d saved all those people from the landlords, after all. Amy was a softie. She wouldn’t do anything horrible to him.

Her eyes narrowed mischievously, but she made no comment on that line of logic. He took that as a good sign. She could still be duped- err, he could still get out of this.

Amy made no comment on that slip up either.

Mr. Brusque cleared his throat. “Seeing as you’re in my head, I’m sure you know that I’m a very practical person.”

“Seeing as you ended up in this situation, you should know by now that you’re not,” Amy quipped.

He shrugged. At least she was still talking to him, instead of … whatever she planned to do if he ticked her off. The thought sent chills down his spine, but he reminded himself that she was a sucker … a powerful, sucker, who was smart enough to know a good deal when she saw one, heh heh 😅.

He could feel that she was holding back a laugh, but her expression hadn’t changed. Without most of the mind-bending visuals, her giant avatar seemed more like a big, scary statue than a curse against his eyes.

He could handle this.

“The landlords slipped through your claws before,” Mr. Brusque continued. “How do you know defeating us today will count as a lasting victory?”

“I’ll know what you know soon enough,” Amy stated.

“Maybe, but what if I don’t know the whole story?” asked Mr. Brusque. “It’s always good to have an undercover landlord reserved, just in case. I’ll be that guy.”

“Hmm … tempting, but you’re planning on betraying me first chance you get,” Amy noted. “Besides, I’m h̸̹̖̉̌ṷ̸͒ń̷̡̙͗g̷̼͕̊̄rrr̸̛̜̊y̴̮͝.̴̱̫̋̊”̷̣̪̈͝

His hair stood on end, but he forced himself to calm down. She wasted her time walking him down memory lane. It was only a matter of time before John Crow realised something was up.

“Very little time has passed since I brought you here,” Amy stated. “I’ve accelerated our minds. John Crow isn’t coming for you.”

Mr. Brusque swallowed the lump in his throat. “Look, we both know you’re not gonna do anything to me. You’re just trying to scare me onto the straight and narrow. It’s like The Christmas Carol. I’m a jerk. I understand that. I don’t have a life to go back to, and I really don’t want to change, but … I promise, I will try. That’s all anyone can do. It’s never too late for a second chance, right?”

There was a lull. Amy stared in silence. Her inscrutable eyes seared into his soul.

“No,” she eventually answered.

The calm, firm finality in her tone hit home harder than a shout.

“You sacrificed your girlfriend to save your own skin,” Amy declared.

“… Ashley was done for anyway …” Mr. Brusque quietly argued.

“You maimed Jimmy and drove him to end his life,” she went on.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“And how was I supposed to know he would do that?” challenged Mr. Brusque.

“You laughed at him,” she added.

“He was already dead! What difference would it make?” snapped Mr. Brusque. “What’s it to you? Did you know the guy? Earlier, you said something about empathy: implied that you wanted to take mine as your own. What are you, a vampiric sociopath? Would offing me make you feel better about yourself, like that makes you a good person?”

“You don’t plan to change, don’t want to change,” Amy concluded. “If someone like me can take steps in the right direction, what’s your excuse?”

He had no answer.

Amy seemed to shrug, despite the fact that she hadn’t moved. “Either way, I’m glad you’re here. Without you, I’d s̸̨̻̦̪̈́ss̶̼̩̈́t̸̾ͅã̷̻̭͚̝͑rṙ̵̦́v̴̛͚͂̂e.̷͇̦̋̔͋̇”̶̬̹͕̑͂͂͝

Her titanic tendrils emerged from everywhere that wasn’t. He jumped back, tried to swat one, but it flowed around his hand like wispy smoke. However, when they locked around his head? They felt solid, unshakable, rooting in his mind as deeply and immutably as the law of gravity.

Amy’s voice morphed into a haunting mimicry of Ashley’s. “Hold still, Russ. I promise it won’t hurt.”

His terror turned to outrage. Who was she to decide what he deserved?

He grabbed a tendril, looking her dead in the eyes.

Amy froze. That wasn’t supposed to be possible was it?

He crushed it.

She yanked away the mangled tendril and its siblings with a sharp gasp.

“What …? H-how did-?”

The fear in her voice was sweet to his ears.

Mr. Brusque’s wrath called out to the red and black void, and it answered. Everything warped towards him. Currents of her power surged and crackled into his clenched fists.

He struck out.

Thunderous force went forth from his punch. It blasted a hole in her avatar’s head, parting the sky. Strings of red reconnected the damage, pulling her back together, but Mr. Brusque was not one.

He was on the move. The mindscape rippled with his every step as he strode towards her. His gait broke into a ground-gulping run.

“W-WAIT!” Amy stuttered, her massive avatar backing away as the mindscape bent towards him like a blackhole. “You wanted another chance! Prove to me that you’re-!”

“SHUT UP!” Mr. Brusque roared.

Another punch and Amy’s head was gone. Her arms flailed, frantic and fruitless.

The keychain reformed on his arm. He slung it. Just as her head respawned, it plunged into her cranium.

Mr. Brusque sighed, eyes rolling back as the keychain sated itself. Amy’s energy was sweet and savoury.

She stared into his eyes like a lamb to the slaughter, helpless, bewildered. He scoffed a chuckle.

“I think I get it now,” Mr. Brusque stated. “The A.M.E. responds to force of will. If a mere girl like you can bring it to heel, what of a man like me?”

Amy’s eyes fluttered as her energy faltered.

“… I …”

“You nothing,” Mr. Brusque declared. “From here on, it’s m̵̖̹͕͔͂̕e̵̳̓̚."

~

John Crow felt a little underwhelmed. Amy’s battle avatar was dragging Mr. Brusque’s hammer tentacle towards his eyescraper. Sure, it was big, but nothing to a single one of his own. She was flying too low, out of the snipers’ line of sight, but the brainflies would close in on her soon. What difference would any of this make? Even so, Norman’s warning about Amy’s capability was at the back of his mind. He kept his sensors peeled for funny business. After all, her aerosol was everywhere.

Then there was that feeling, like a touch of cowitch that couldn’t be scratched. Somehow, some way, he felt like he was being stood up. He’d gotten dolled up and everything, but there was this sense that she really wasn’t focused on him. Her avatar was taking forever to reach him! It was irrational. He knew that. They’d only been fighting for a minute or so. She wasn’t moving slowly, per se, but considering the fact that she’d battled his tentacles at close to the speed of sound? This was abysmally glacial! Why couldn’t she hurry it up so he could pound her into mush in the most spectacularly wonderful way?

Of course, John Crow was a professional, so he’d keep those thoughts to himself. He remained the picture of calm, collected control. The most he’d do is ask the staff to send up their least favourite member so he’d have something to strangle if things got too annoying. He was reasonable like that.

“Sir, I believe an avatar has entered Mr. Brusque’s control room,” Mr. Perk notified through the bio radio. “His voice had the slight flanging characteristic of Amy when we last spoke. I believe she was impersonating him.”

John Crow rolled his eyes. “He’s a loose end now. Cut hi-”

Suddenly, Amy’s avatar looked confused, before clutching its head with an anguished shriek. The tentacle dropped from its claws, destroying a street. Her aerosol turned pale and creamy yellow. It brought to mind a certain landlord’s complexion. Familiar or not, a large construct was forming over Mr. Brusque’s fallen building. The snipers knew what to do with it, riddling the giant form with holes like swiss cheese.

“̵̱̙̀͝MR. G̵̬̙͇̘̽̿́U̴̗̥̝̟͊͝T̷̰̄̉Ṯ̶̙̠͉͛Ě̵͙R! IF ̴̳̩͈̻̑̚YȎ̵̥Ù̵̗̿̓̐ LO̶̱̠͎̬͛͑̇B AŅ̷͚̄OT̸͔͂̌͝H̴̻̘͖̖͑É̵̛̗̥̗͓͝R BÖ̵̳͈̜̜́͆̒̀O̸̡̥͓̫͗͗͒G̷͕̒͋̊̋E̷̮͉͙͕̎͋R AT̷̯̍͋Ι͈̘ ̵̠̟͗̊M̴̖̳̐̄͊̅E, I’̴̻̋͒̃͘M̸̠̅ ̴̗͖̳́G̷̢͈̪̎Õ̸̱̲̘̇̈̕͜Ṅ̷̡̾̈́̓N̵̮̰̈́̄A ST̸͕̔Í̷̧͔͛C̴̯͚̮͉̒̍̄K YO̷̖̥̩̻͒U̴̹̭̲̐̐̋ ̴̨̈U̴͖͚̺̿̌P̵͈̘͈͐̌̇͋͜ ̶̻͚̐̽̕M̸̯̞̎̌̽̑Y NÖ̴̢͔̫̎̓́S̶̡̽̅́̑E̷͙̱̼͖̽̄͠͠, PL̵̫̤̋̂̈Ư̷̠̯̓̽̈́C̵͚̼̳͗͆̐K YÖ̶̩͉̫́̊́Ṵ̴͔̤̐̈́ ̸̫̜̯̤̋͑̚Ȯ̶̟̔Ü̶͇̜͊̊̉T AN̴̙͒̒̎D̴͉̠̍̄́̚ ̴̨̩̭̝̈́͌PLAỸ̶͆̀̓Ι̧̫̗ ̵̤̠̲̟̃WÌ̵̮T̷͇͂H TH̶̗̝͍͚̿E̸͍̩̜̍̃͌ ̵̨̝͆͊̄̋G̴̡̯͓̒Ù̸̹N̷̝̙̻̥̽̌͒K THA̴̩͈̋̚͝Ţ̴̨̛̺̐’̸̻͋̎̿̀S̷̡̪͖̈́́ L̵̜͘E̷̝̩̳͕͋͆͊F̷̡͖͓͠T OF̴̠͎̰̮͊ YA!"

boomed a voice from the aerosol.

John Crow raised an eyebrow. “Snipers, hold fire.”

In the absence of hypersonic bombardment, a colossal figure forged itself from the aerosol. Bigger than a peeping building, it was a landlord, decked with rippling muscles.

John Crow folded his arms. “Mr. Brusque.”

The landlord’s titanic avatar sat atop his old building like a king on his throne. Creamy lightning thundered about him: a casual testament of his newfound power.

“̵͙̘̥͓̠͑I’̵̲̰͕̼̯́͘M TḢ̸̡̪̽IṆ̷̒K̷̫̯̩̜̯̈́́Ĭ̶̛̬̿́N̴͔̘̄̓̿͝G 'LO̴̘̟̻̪͔͛R̸̫̠̓̍͛͛̕D BRƯ̸͖̠͎͈͐̂̑̂S̷͖͂͌Q̸̦̹͒̀͘U̶̲͇͐̿̾̕E̵̛͇͒͝',”̵̤̬̼̤̙̄

rumbled the giant.

“̴̝̩͎̔̃͌̓̿W̶̱̲̮͍͆AH HA̷̙͜͝P̴̻̀̓͒͘P̸̰͇̰̣̓̂͊Ȩ̴̧̣̣̈̾N? ̸̜̳̝̙͙͛͒ ̴̨̦̱̙̊YO̴͔̗͌U DŐ̸̳͎̦̺̐͜N'̴̭͓̤̀̒̓T SO̶̱̪͈͐͋U̵͉͙͗N̸̤̐͌͒D HAP̴̮̦̗̈́̌̓P̵̡̯̦̮̗͌Y TO̸̻͓͛̂Ι͍̦ ̴̦̈́͠S̶̹̖͕͗͊̃̒̕E̴͊Ι͕̥E MȆ̴̝̻̎́, 'BO̵͇̲̜̰͌͝S̶̜̬̳̻͑͆͂͗͜͠Ş̸̘͙̍̿'.”̷̲̜͓̊͐̇̎