The Real World

One Crow

Jackaboy-Man left the alley with the note in hand, the words making no sense to him no matter how many times he read them.

"Jackaboy-"

Marvin broke off before he could finish his sentence, his eyes falling to the note in the hero's hands.

Schneep slowed to a halt next to the magician, glancing between the pair with a confused frown before he saw the paper held limply in Jackaboy-Man's hands.

"I...I couldn't save JJ...he's gone." Jackaboy-Man whispered, his eyes filled with tears as he looked up at the magician.

"It's not your fault." Marvin assured Jackaboy-Man as he stepped towards the hero to console him.

"It is though! I was supposed to watch him, but I was distracted by Robbie. Now JJ is gone." Jackaboy-Man sighed.

"Robbie sorry." Robbie whimpered apologetically as he sat down on the ground, his blue eyes boring into the hero's.

"I checked everyvhere, but Chase isn't in zhe bar. Jameson must've been telling zhe truth and ve didn't believe him." Schneep added, his eyes shining with guilt.

"We've got to stick together and find Chase, Anti, and JJ before Wilford does something worse to them that'll kill Jack in the process." Marvin stated grimly as he strode back into the alley where the note was left, hoping he could find clues that would lead him to his friends.

"Wakey wakey sleeping beauty."

Chase groaned softly as he cracked his eyes open slightly, the male wincing as a bright light shone into his eyes.

"Good, you're not dead yet. Anyway, welcome to my home!" Wilford exclaimed as Chase blinked his eyes so they could adjust, squinting as he looked around him.

He could tell that he was in a large room with a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a long staircase to his right and tan painted walls around him, the floor covered in black and white tiles.

Chase struggled to move, only to find that he was tied up against a wooden chair.

"The fuck? Let me go!" Chase yelled angrily as he leaves forward towards Wilford, wishing he could free his arms so he could strangle the dark haired male.

"Now why would I do that?" Wilford replied as he circled around Chase, his footsteps echoing loudly around him.

"Anti!" Chase called out desperately, hoping he would hear a reply from the demon.

"Oh he's here alright, but I'm afraid that he can't answer you at the moment." Wilford stated with a grin as he absent mindlessly took a knife from his pocket and ran a finger along the back of the silver blade.

Chase noticed a small piece of blue fabric float off of the blade and fall to the floor, the color familiar.

"What did you do to Anti and JJ?!" Chase demanded fiercely, fear pounding hard in his heart as Wilford threw the knife at Chase in the blink of an eye.

The blade nicked Chase's cheek before the weapon was embedded into the door behind him with a solid thud.

"I'd be more concerned about yourself right now. Now if you're done asking questions you'll never get the answer to, I have some questions for you." Wilford interjected as he sauntered over to the door and plucked his knife free, wiping the blood off of the blade.

"Go to Hell." Chase spat fearlessly, crying out in pain when Wilford delicately carved a smiley face onto Chase's already wounded cheek.

"I've already been there Chase, the demons made me their king," Wilford whispered into Chase's ear.

"Now answer my questions or your friends will find a crow tonight."

Jameson could hear Chase screaming from whatever room he was locked inside, the interior filled with magical items that were probably used to summon something long ago.

For whatever reason, Jameson wasn't restrained by anything, although he couldn't escape anyway since he wasn't strong enough to break the door or equipped with anything that could help him pick the lock.

Jameson flinched when the door abruptly slammed open, Wilford storming inside without bothering to shut it after him.

"Why are all of you so damn stubborn?! Dark told me that it'd be easy to interrogate all of you." Wilford complained.

"I'm glad I can talk to you, you're the closest thing I've had to a friend since Damien and Seline decided to play their little prank on me and hide. Maybe I'll find them one day." Wilford muttered wistfully, unaware of the fact that Jameson was slowly inching towards the door.

"Can..can I call you my friend?" Wilford asked hopefully, causing Jameson to freeze.

The mute ego nodded with a weak smile, afraid of what the outcome would be if he said no.

Jameson flinched when Wilford strode towards him, his body tense as he prepared himself for pain.

Instead, Jameson felt Wilford wrap his arms around him in a tight hug, his face buried into Jameson's shoulder.

"Thank you...friend." Wilford mumbled, smiling as he finally let go.

With Jameson only a few inches from the open door, he took his chance and ran out of the room.

"COME BACK HERE!" Wilford roared in rage as he ran after Jameson, the brown haired male already dashing down the stairs.

He hesitated when he saw Chase's unconscious body tied up in a chair by the front door, his face covered in dried blood and his clothes torn in multiple places.

Jameson glanced back to see Wilford already halfway down the staircase, a bloodstained knife in hand.

Jameson looked at Chase one last time before he ran out of the house, tears streaming down his face as he left his friend behind.

Wilford panted hard as he slowed to a stop at the doorway, watching Jameson leave before he closed the door behind him.

Jameson slowed to a stop once the house was out of sight, silently gasping for breath as he looked around him at his new surroundings.

Jameson was in the middle of a forest, but he could see the city lights not far from his position, filling him with hope.

Jameson started to walk towards the city, pausing when he heard the sound of crumpling paper emanate from his vest pocket.

Jameson stuck his hand in his pocket to retrieve a folded up paper, his hands shaking slightly as he unfolded it.

On the paper was a single black crow, an oddly sweet smell radiating off of the art.

Jameson abruptly dropped the note as he struggled to breathe, his lungs feeling like they were shutting down as he fell to his knees.

Jameson weakly crawled towards the city, hoping he could find anyone to help him.

But nobody came.

Jameson cried for help even though no sound escaped from his body, his vision spinning as he collapsed to the ground.

Jameson looked up at the stars in the sky as his vision darkened, his chest rising and falling one last time before the mute ego fell still.