Chapter Text
With a bow, lights fade, and the crowd howls their goodbyes. The fans were lively as always, responsive when prompted by their cardinal to sing. One by one, the cardinal praises each of his ghouls for a job well done, dismissing them from the stage.
Subordinate ghouls scurry on stage to pack up equipment. Trying to help the band ghouls, they scoop up amps, speakers, monitors, the like; they are forbidden from touching the instruments, though, after an incident a few eras back. Not that they mind, they’d rather not risk being scratched or bitten by a certain fire ghoul.
Backstage, the band ghouls begin to unwind. For some, unwinding after such an energetic event is easier said than done. Waiting for the go-ahead to enter their tour bus, Aether has his arms wrapped tightly around Dew from behind, gently shifting his weight between either foot. The combination of pressure and softly rocking back and forth helps calm Dew.
One of the touring managers gives a thumbs up, to which the tired ghouls return to the confines of the bus. All are fatigued and sweaty; any other night, they’d loathe their cramped bunks, but tonight they’re looking awfully comfortable. Right now, though, they wait for the return of their cardinal, who is likely socializing with fans before retiring.
All seven of them form a pile on one of the couches. Though drenched in sweat, they still crave the affection and presence of those closest to them. Aether runs his fingers through Rain’s hair, gently scratching his scalp with the pads of his fingers. Low, content purrs rumble from Rain’s throat, with his legs tangled with Mountain’s and Dew’s. Tucked neatly into Mountain’s side, Dew lazily plays with the spade of Multi’s tail. Cirrus has her back pressed against Swiss’s, holding lovingly onto Cumulus.
Before too long, Copia returns to the bus, seeing all his ghouls cuddled up with one another. He’d hate to ruin such a sweet moment, but part of him enjoys causing problems. He approaches and, with the toe of his pointed boots, lightly steps on an exposed tail to gain their attention. In return, he receives a sharp hiss with bared teeth from Dewdrop. The cardinal coughs into his closed fist to make his presence known to the rest, flicking on the fluorescent lights.
“What a wonderful performance you put on for everyone tonight,” he praises, though he is met with tired and annoyed stares. “We are entering the final stretch of our tour, and I need you all on your best behavior; no scuffles or bar fights,” his eyes fall upon Dew, who has a reputation of such quarrels. “Now,” Copia brings his gloved hands together to punctuate, “get your beauty rest; by the looks of it, you all need it.” He gives a weak wave and with a turn on his heel, the cardinal leaves just as quickly as he arrived.
“He’s a bit of a dick, huh?” Mountain runs a hand over his face, attempting to wipe away the sleep. Rain sits up, rubbing his eyes. Checking his phone, it’s a bit past midnight.
“Just a bit?” Multi hides his eyes from the harsh lights of the bus, an arm thrown across his face.
“Better here than Hell,” Cumulus comments as she stands. She stretches her back and kneels back down to wake her partner. Cirrus takes Cumulus’s hand when offered, silently yawning into her own. The two air ghouls are the first to their bunks. Rain nudges Aether, who was definitely pretending to be asleep, as he let out a tired groan. It takes Dew practically dragging Aether to bring him to their stacked bunks. Mountain is guided by Rain’s hand to his respective shitty mattress, followed by Swiss.
Quickly shedding their layers of sweaty clothing, they prepare for another night of poor sleep. Swiss turns the lights out as he passes them, climbing into his bunk above Rain’s. Rain, being the sweetheart he is, wishes everyone a good night, despite all their privacy curtains being drawn.
Behind a few curtains shines a faint blue light: ghouls checking their phones before calling it a night. One by one, each of these lights go out, except for Mountain’s. Lately, he’s been getting fewer and fewer hours of sleep, no matter how tired or fatigued he is. Maybe it’s the bunk being too small, with his legs curled up awkwardly, or his pillow is too flat, or the bus being too cold.
Per his nightly routine, Dewdrop parts his curtain and drops silently from his upper bunk to seek company. Tonight’s lucky ghoul is Rain, who sleepily accepts a warm body to hold onto. Sometimes, Dew’ll get lucky and have cramped bunk sex with another ghoul, usually Aether or Swiss, but tonight is not one of those nights, to Mountain’s delight.
It seems like hours pass; Mountain scrolling endlessly through his feed, waiting for much needed rest. The only sounds filling the space are the low rumble of the bus engine and the occasional rustle of blankets. He’d ask to cuddle with someone to aid in his sleep, but the only ones small enough to share a bunk with him are Rain and Dew.
He caves. There’s not many places to go within the bus, so Mountain locks himself in the bathroom, hoping a different environment would tire him. With his hands firmly planted on the sides of the sink, he scowls at himself in the mirror.
“Why can’t you sleep, idiot?” He grabs at his face, turning his head side to side, inspecting himself. Something is off, like the mirror lags behind his movements. Mountain shakes the feeling, blaming the anomaly on his fatigue. He pulls his bottom eyelids down, holding eye contact with himself, willing himself to sleep. Of course, it fails.
His stomach lurches when his reflection blinks at him. When he steels himself, he focuses on one point in the mirror’s reflection. What should remain straight, solid lines waver and ripple slightly, like the surface of a pond.
He feels nauseous; if this is magic, it’s unlike any he’s seen before. Slowly, Mountain raises his hand to the mirror, failing to keep himself steady, to touch its surface. As his hand approaches, a clawed hand emerges from the silver surface. Mountain’s ears fall back in fear as the hand takes a hold of his wrist, attempting to pull him through.
“Fuck,” he braces himself with his free hand against the wall, widening his stance to hold his ground. His toes curl into the plush carpet beneath him. Another hand grabs his wrist, to which Mountain starts to scramble.
“Fuck!” He curses again, frantically looking around the bathroom for anything that could help. There’s nothing. He knocks bottles off the sink’s edge, loudly hitting the ground, as he reaches for the door. The hands begin to dig their nails into his skin. Mountain yells for help and bangs against the thin wall.
Swiss is the first to wake, hearing the commotion.
“What the fuck?” He sits up, parting his privacy curtain. Swiss peaks below his bunk, at Rain and Dew, to see if they heard it too. He nudges them awake until they begin to stir, only for the loud bangs to resume.
He leaves the two, making a beeline for the source of shouting and banging. In the pit of his stomach, he has an inkling that something bad is happening. When he reaches the bathroom’s locked door, Swiss firmly knocks. In response, Mountain continues to clamor and cry for help.
The hands continue to claw into his arm, drawing inky black ichor from his skin. Mountain puts all his weight into holding his ground, despite hearing Swiss’s voice on the other side of the door.
“There’s— I’m— Fuck!” Mountain begins as the contour rug beneath his feet finally gives. He slips and loses his footing, allowing the hands to finally yank him forward. More claws dig into his back and sides as he’s pulled further.
Once through, the small bathroom is left in silence and disarray. Swiss, now joined with Rain and Dew, waits on the other side of the door. He recognizes Mountain’s voice, immediately, and the sudden silence does not ease him.
“Mounty, are you alright?” Swiss presses his ear to the door while trying the handle. Nothing. He motions Rain to wake Aether and the girls. Dutifully, he scurries off. He need not wake Cirrus and Cumulus, who were already on their way to the ruckus. He continues towards Aether, parting his curtain and shaking him awake. Understandably, in his sleep-induced stupor, Aether just blinks. Rain pulls at his arm.
“C’mon, something is wrong with Mountain,” he urges the larger ghoul. Aether finally gets to his feet and follows Rain back to the crowd forming around the bathroom door. Swiss quickly informs Aether, guiding him by the shoulders to stand in front of the locked door.
“He was yelling for help and making a lot of noise. I don’t know what was happening, but suddenly it’s all quiet,” Swiss nervously shifts his weight. “Do you think you can kick the door open, or something?”
Aether takes a moment to look between the door and Swiss, thinking over the situation. He tries the knob, just in case, before clearing some space in front of the door.
“If Copia gets pissed, it’s on you,” Aether warns. Swiss nods, urging him to open it already. Aether takes a few steps back, bringing his foot up high before bringing it down harshly on the door handle. It breaks easily and the broken knob falls to the floor. Swiss pushes past him and nudges the door open. What he sees, or doesn’t see, is worse than whatever he imagined.
“What the fuck did you do to the door?” The cardinal enters the room, woken by Aether kicking the door open. He is wrapped in an opulent robe, pushing by his ghouls, noticing all are present, spare his drummer. “Where’s Mountain?”
Looking within the cramped bathroom, Copia sees the rug shoved into a corner and bottles littering the floor. Most notably, though, is the cracked mirror, droplets of black ichor in the sink, and no Mountain.
“What the fuck happened? Where’s my drummer?” Copia turns from the doorway, looking at what remains of his ghouls. Swiss is the most shaken, nervously picking at his bottom lip.
“I don’t know,” he begins. “I heard him yelling and ran out. The door was locked and suddenly he just,” Swiss meets the cardinal’s gaze, “stopped.”
“Well, where’d he go?”
“I don’t fucking know!” With all the questions being thrown at him, on top of one of his partners disappearing, Swiss is quickly overwhelmed. Copia is silent for a few moments, thinking of the best course of action given the circumstances.
“We need to get back to the abbey,” he runs his hand along his jaw. “Cancel the tour. Make up something to tell the public.” Rain’s ears dip back at his cardinal’s words; what kind of shit has to go down that warrants canceling in the midst of touring?
“We’re only a few hours out, it shouldn’t be long before we’re back home,” Copia paces through the small room. “Everyone watch each other, I don’t need any more of you to go fucking missing.”
The cardinal turns, heading back to his quarters within the bus. He leaves his door ajar, allowing those who seek his comfort to do so. His ghouls are left to stare at one another, all shaken from the events of the past fifteen minutes. Cumulus looks up at her partner, meeting her worried eyes.
“We can watch over each other,” she says, to which Cirrus nods in agreement. Aether runs a comforting hand along Swiss’s back. With the quintessence running through him, Aether feels the guilt weighing down on his partner.
“Can we trust you to watch yourselves?” The taller ghoulette prompts. Both Rain and Swiss solemnly nod. The two ghoulettes are too shaken up to go back to sleep, but they return to their bunks to comfort one another.
Left in the common room of the bus is Aether, Dew, Rain, and Swiss. Rain’s tail is wrapped nervously around his left leg, wide eyes flickering between the other ghouls.
“What do you think happened to him?” The water ghoul’s voice is quiet, as if speaking too loudly would cause more harm. Swiss doesn’t respond; his eyes stare ahead, unfocused, as he idly bites his clawed nails, leaving Aether to answer. He lets out a sigh, thinking over his words carefully before speaking.
“Has to be some kind of magic,” Aether begins, “and judging by the mess, Mountain was an unwilling participant.” He thinks back to the tarry ghoul blood that stained the sink and the strewn toiletries. Dew furrows his eyebrows in thought, though he does not speak. Rain takes it upon himself to break the silence.
“We should—”
“Yes.” Swiss interrupts him, stiffly turning and walking past his fellow ghouls, back to their stacked bunks. The rest follow, silently padding down the thin hall. Each goes to their respective bunk, though none of them sleep.