We're All Crazy Here! [Creepypasta Fanfiction]

37: An Apple's Locked Third Gateway To Madness

WWisssh-WHOOOSH!
The scythe's formidable blade tore through stone floor in a blaze of white-hot sparks.

Unstable walls shook. Vibrations caused a familiar froggy clock's dramatic crash to solid ground - a mechanical clatter, a chime of glass, and a humble little ribbit.

Smiley knew that he'd been heard out, but he bowed like a prisoner at their site of execution nevertheless, his face hidden behind his sleeve.

Smirky stood in front of him, casting a sullen shadow over his shivering brother. He held the redirected scythe with an arm outstretched, fingers curled around its sleek metallic hold.

A permanent semicircle was engraved on the floor, swiping centimetres shy of Smiley's knees; the illusionist had deflected his own attack at the final second.

Perfect stillness. Unbreakable silence.

"I'm sorry." The not-so-good doctor repeated hoarsely.

Smirky's eyes widened. Those inky rings drained away as if dissolved, uncovering the untouched scarlet underneath them.

"Wh-What...?"

A swoosh of spiralling smoke obstructed his sight.

The smokey curtain was being emitted from Mr. Froggy Clock. Or rather, the mangled remains that used to be Mr. Froggy Clock.

Why it did that? Certainly mysterious. Perhaps a hidden security camera lurked within it. Word count, word count, boosty, boost, boost. ;)

Smiley mustered the courage to lower his arm a little, stopping at the bridge of his nose. His sorrowful eyes shone, glimmered with unspilt tears.

"I know what I d-did." His pained voice tried to steady itself, and failed. "A-And I... I..."

He became unintelligible, his words trailing off in an anguished cry.

Smiley threw himself down at Smirky's feet, racked with strangled sobs that were too heavy for him to bear. He could barely breathe. He couldn't talk.

He was u n d o n e.

The smoke danced.

It swirled in the carefree air.

And then it dissipated.

Smiley snapped his head up, tears streaking on his face; he sensed a sudden movement.

His shoulders subtly dropped - Smirky had slowly opened his hand and let the scythe fall. It clattered peacefully to the side. Blade dull and chipped, hold cracked.

Another one broken.

The not-so-good doctor sucked in a shuddering breath; relief. He had a tight knot in his stomach, and an even tighter one around his chest.

He swiped at his eyes with a sleeve. A few stray droplets splashed on the floor, blood from the burning cut on his heart.

"I wish I could take it back. All. Of. It."

A final bout of whirling smoke drifted around them, mimicking a perfect hourglass shape as it weaved laxly from Mr. Froggy's mechanical corpse.

If you listened hard, you'd be able to hear three heartbeats in the acheronian dungeon.

Nothing more.

And nothing less.

One pumping wildly. One slowing down. And one elevated out of annoyance.