Souls (Cuphead)

Chapter 9

 "I can't believe we just did that!" Mugman cheered, hugging his brother as they escaped the smoky aired boat.

 A fly smoking outside glanced at them, as one of the flies that was inside when the fight was taking place came out and whispered something to him. He laughed, and stuck a thumbs-up at them, much to his wife's disgust. "Whose next?"

 Cuphead pulled the list from his pocket and read aloud, "Hilda Berg."

 "Sounds good to me," Mugman said, and skipped away merrily, whilst Cuphead trailed behind.

 Cuphead pulled one of the soul contracts, Goopy's, out of his pocket. At the bottom right was a signature, swirly and neat. King Dice.

 He tilted his head at it, and when he knew Mugman wasn't looking, kissed it softly.

 He put it away quickly, oblivious to the eyes tracking his progress.

 Mugman never liked arguments. When he and Cuphead started fighting, he would usually break down when Cuphead raised his voice. But sometimes he could handle it longer than other times. Like now. 

 A pilot's flask holding a wrench was arguing with Mugman. "Hilda Berg is the protector of the skies!" he snapped. "She warns us pilots of coming dangers, like passing storms and hurricanes! Why would I tell you where she is if you intend to kill her?"

 "It's not kill," Mugman protested. "We just need to collect something from her!"

 "Her soul contract!" the little man cried, stamping his little feet (held into brown shoes). "And if the Devil gets his minging claws on 'em, she's as good as dead!"

 "How so?" Mugman challenged.

 "I had a friend," the pilot said, his voice changing to a dramatically sad, troubled tone. "His name was Jacques. He flew day in and day out. He went to the casino to deliver some liquor, and made a deal with the Devil. He comes to me, he does, and he says to me, 'Ron, I've done some'ut terrible, I have! I have to get Miss Hilda Berg's soul contract or the Devil's gonna take mine, he will!'

 "I tried to help him, I did. I said maybe he could try and get someone else's, but he could not. I tried my hardest. He went to talk to Miss Hilda Berg and she tried to help, as well. But in the end, he gave it willingly so us other pilots could continue to fly and be warned of coming dangers. Miss Hilda Berg honours his sacrifice. She makes clouds in the shape of his face, she does.

 "But Jacques changed, he did. Last time I saw him, he nearly took out an eye, he did. He is no longer the friendly grandson of Porkrind, he is a monster! He has gnarled claws, bumpy skin, sharp teeth capable of ripping skin, and his eyes....his eyes are red. Glowing embers."

 Ron, as he called himself, shivered, and gulped. "No," he said. "Miss Hilda Berg ain't going to have her soul taken by him. Not whilst I'm still alive."

 Cuphead came up the hills, and smiled. "Good story," he said.

 Ron turned and grinned, almost flirtatiously. "Thanks," he said. Definitely flirtatiously. "Whatcha doin' here, handsome?"

 "I'm looking to speak to Miss Hilda Berg," Cuphead said. "You see, my grandfather has a trip to the islands soon, and he is very paranoid about weather. I know how unpredictable it can be, so I was coming to speak to her, to see if she can write down the upcoming weather for the day of his departure and return, so he needn't worry so much."

 Ron grinned. "That I can help with," he said. "But she lives up there."

 He pointed to the clouds. Zips of gold, pinks and reds sometimes flashed through the openings, and Mugman thought he could see a tiny figure makes shapes in them. "Can you do something else for us?" Cuphead tried. "I want to learn how to pilot a plane."

 "Of course," Ron said, and pulled blueprints from his pocket. "Look over these, it'll teach you to fly."

 "Thank you," Cuphead said, smiling. "Come on, Mug, let's study these, and then we'll get a plane."