“Why not?”
Her unblinking form stood over Sasha, an air of disappointment seemingly hung over the room. Marcy was witness to it all. She had just come in for some cuddles but it seemed that was not going to happen. Instead, she was met with that familiar light, from three decades ago when another world lost its moon, a blinding blue that fell back down. Anne, more specifically.
She presumably had tapped into those same powers again, although as to why that was would never come to surface. Her eyes seemed a little less full of life despite the intense colors. Staring down Sasha like an orca about to beach itself, ready to lunge. Perhaps even having planned this out way longer than her two spouses had thought. Her breathing seemed to grow evermore guttural, a festering urge coming out as she took a step closer, Sasha instinctively scooting back.
“I won’t ask again… Why won’t you merge your soul with me? I mean, of course I’ll bring Marcy along!” Her tone still cold but more demanding. A tone which was met with silence and fear, tears starting to drip onto the wooden floor they once joked that ‘termites would eat up’ when they first built the house together. But all of that was irrelevant for now. At least to Anne it was, continuing to ramble.
“After everything we’ve been through together, don’t you two think we should do this? That we deserve this?!?!? I’m The Guardian now and I don’t know how or why right fucking now but… I don’t wanna have to force you. To do any of this, but of course I want you two, but willingly! I need you two to be willing to want me too like this! So please, please just tell me yes!” They loved her but they also did not want to die, they just wanted their Anne back. The woman who they helped and helped them back, who fought for them, who gave them reasons to keep trudging on. But was this even still her, this antagonistic coldness in front of them? And so a decision was made.
…
The awkward silence in the Waybright home the following week was not because that there was one less among them, or the fact that they were still afraid of Anne. Oh no, it was much worse.
Perhaps if one entered then they would immediately regret ever setting foot in their house. Down in the basement, a mass of fibers and silk seemed to breathe rhythmically, hushed whispers can be heard as its body rises and falls. Perhaps you might make out a limb or two through the thick layers that bundle it up. Perhaps a shriek or a roar too, it won’t matter. The sound will be loud enough to deafen any panicked noises you make. It will unfurl its unholy blossoms, petals of crimson, lime, and cyan that cackle like a bad cough. They are born anew, they are everything each of them had set out to bury.
There is a Calamity incoming, and the world is unprepared.
