As Mortuus raced through the winding streets, the flickering lights of the town cast eerie shadows, a stark contrast to the intensity of his mission after pushing past Edward and bolting out of the morgue. With every passing moment, the weight of responsibility pressed down upon him, urging him to move faster, to push harder. Each step brought him closer to the heart of the storm, where Jason's unmanaged anger threatened to tear apart the fabric of their reality. And yet, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there flickered a glimmer of hope, a belief that perhaps, against all odds, he could reach Jason in time to prevent further devastation.
Finally, he arrived at the Andrews' house, his breath ragged as he bounded up the creaking stairs. Bursting through the door, he confronted Jason with a mixture of desperation and determination. "Jason!!" he cried out, his voice strained with emotion. "You have to stop this! You don't have to embrace darkness!"
However, Jason's response was cold and calculated, a manifestation of the turmoil raging within his blinded mind. With a mere flick of his two fingers, he summoned forth, weaving shadows into intricate patterns that coiled around Mortuus like slithering serpents, ensnaring him in a web of darkness and decay. It was as if the very essence of night itself obeyed Jason's command, bending to his will with a chilling obedience. Caught within this ethereal prison, Mortuus struggled in vain against the suffocating grip of the shadows; his every movement met with resistance as Jason's rage threatened to consume them both.
Struggling against his bonds, Mortuus continued to plead with Jason, his words a desperate attempt to reach the humanity buried beneath the layers of pain and anger. Yet, even as he spoke, he knew that mere words might not be enough to break through to what was left of the original kind and caring Jason Andrews. "PLEASE!! THESE PEOPLE DID NOTHING TO YOU!!" he shouted.
With an angry expression, Jason slammed his fist on the rotted armrest. "THAT'S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!! They did... nothing... They... they let me burn..."
As Mortuus fumbled for his gun, his last resort in this dire situation, he felt it slip from his grasp, clattering to the rotted floorboards below. The sound echoed through the room, a stark reminder of the gravity of their confrontation. Being that Mortuus was merely a reanimated corpse, he often found it difficult to make his muscles obey his brain's commands, resulting in unfortunate but hilarious situations. This situation he was in wasn't one of those funny moments, though. This crazy situation wasn't like when he was trying to get a Big Mac; this was a time that he could afford to slip up on.
Amidst the chaos outside his head, Mortuus found himself lost in thought, the memories of Mordecai's wisdom echoing in his mind. And then, in a moment of clarity, he understood the key to ending the madness that had engulfed them as the words formed in his head.
Jason spoke coldly, his face showing little emotion, "Just as I burned, so too shall this world."
Drawing upon the memory of Isadora, the adoptive daughter Jason had lost but never truly forgotten, Mortuus spoke softly, his words carrying the weight of their shared history. "Is this really what Isa would have wanted?" At that moment, something shifted within Jason as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. It gave Mortuus the same feeling that he had when The Stitcher was revealed to be Michael Morris.
As the realization dawned upon him, Jason's demeanor softened, his gaze shifting from darkness to light. With a single tear tracing its path down his cheek, he whispered her name, a fragile acknowledgment of the love he had buried beneath his pain—Pain that was consuming his entire brain and seeping its way into memories, shattering his trust and locking away his empathy.
And as the memories flooded back, the Hallows that had wrought havoc upon the town began to dissipate, their ethereal forms fading into nothingness. With each passing moment, the darkness receded, replaced by the light of a newfound understanding as Jason slowly recognized the man behind the curtain.
In the end, Mortuus succeeded in saving Jason from the grip of darkness, not through force or violence but through compassion and empathy. As the chaos subsided, a sense of peace settled over the town once more, a testament to the power of redemption and the resilience of the human spirit.
Jason looked over at Mortuus and then through the dusty window. "Anger... C-clouded me?" he pondered through tears and coughing fits. Mortuus nodded and calmly placed a hand on Jason's shoulder reassuringly.
"I... I watched my life burn... I-I was forced to burn alive..." Jason spoke slowly through his gravelly throat. Mortuus sighed, "There's no pain equivalent to losing a child, Jason."
As Mortuus watched Jason come to grips with his depressing reality, the memories tearing his heart all over again, it finally made sense why Mordecai did what he did. Mordecai removed Mortuus's memories to prevent this. Remembering the past truly is painful, but not knowing isn't much better—a paradox.
Amidst the eerie tranquility of the sun-dappled room, Mortuus sat cross-legged, nestled among a patchwork of weeds and moss that had begun sprouting from the dead wood. With a serene demeanor, he folded his legs gracefully, forming a perfect criss-cross beneath his flowing trenchcoat. His posture exuded an aura of poise as if he were one with the very earth he sat upon. With eyes closed in quiet contemplation, he seemed utterly at peace, as though the world around him and Jason melted away, leaving only the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft hum of nature's symphony from outside the room.
With teary eyes, Jason lowered his head to meet Mortuus's gaze, "I... I don't know what Ventura did with your heart."
Mortuus nodded slowly but didn't speak. His missing crystal heart would be a problem later, so instead of worrying, he chose to sit quietly with Jason. Silently, Mortuus puffed on his cannabis pen. 101Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeHlzR6nuF8
