An older man slumps into a wooden chair, panting in obvious exhaustion. Beads of sweat on his forehead, he picks up a nearby newspaper from the counter and fans himself to try to fend off the impending heatstroke, or at least what might appear to be one. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, he is able to cool himself down enough to breathe normally. And once he had done so, he sighed. [b]"Gosh, I'm really gettin' up there, ain't I?"[/b] Age was a strange thing. It brought both joy and sorrow. A young one is often eager to become older, to experience the pleasures of life only an adult is allowed to know. To become their own individual. But on the reverse, adults typically dread each year going by. Those responsibilities and pleasures they once experienced may no longer be viable for them, either due to social pressures or, most obviously, due to their declining health. It is a matter of fact that all humans will eventually succumb to age. It is merely a matter of time. Richard Davis, was it not obvious enough, was the latter of the two aforementioned types. Each year, he was reminded of the stuff he was no longer capable of doing, and of the things that would soon be taken from him. He could no longer run like he used to, play ball like he used to, and lift things like he used to. The passing of time had robbed him of these things, and given how sore his legs and hips felt each time he had to exert himself, he would soon be robbed of even the gift of walking without aid. [b]"Perhaps if I had taken better care of myself..."[/b] he thought. [b]"If only I never grew old..."[/b] he muttered. Regret-filled ideas would occasionally flood the man's mind each time he was painfully reminded of his past health. It was these thoughts that fueled his interactions with a certain young employee of his. She was approaching the age of adulthood, yet she already displayed a listlessness towards life. He felt like that sort of attitude was a waste of her potential as a human being! A life is only lived once, and he couldn't find an excuse for someone to squander it, not when he knew how painful and simple it was to look back and regret past decisions. Only as your life approaches its inevitable end do you yearn for more time than you're allocated, or so that's how Davis felt. He didn't want this young one to come to regret her life when she turned old just like him. So he tried what he could to get her to open up. That was a lot easier said than done, mind you. With an attitude reminiscent of a workaholic businessman, she was fairly difficult to approach, though this had improved since she first showed up. Relatively speaking, that is. He was honestly surprised she went ahead with his invitation to the baseball game, which is also why he was so upset that it had gone south. He wondered what else he could do to show her life was worth living a bit more lively than she was now. The sound of a bell ringing snapped the old man out of his thoughts, and he leaned forwards in his chair to get a look at the customer coming through the door. [center][h1][color=red]S[/color] [i]a m a n t h a[/i][/h1] [img]https://i.imgur.com/YdB71c9.jpg[/img] [quote=Samantha Howard][color=red]"...secondary objective complete."[/color][/quote][/center] Samantha stepped into the small store and looked around. Aside from the owner, the place was empty - so nothing out of the ordinary. She honestly wondered how this man even kept this place afloat or paid her, given how rare it was to see someone here. Either she just happened to miss the customers each time, or working with clocks was a very expensive thing to do. Though she was curious, she didn't care enough to bother asking, and as long as she got paid, it didn't matter much to her where the money came from. [b]"Oh, hello, Samantha..."[/b] Davis wore his confusion on his sleeve. [b]"Didn't you mention you wouldn't be available today?"[/b] She approached the counter, holding a small paper bag in her hand. [color=red]"I finished what I needed to do and wanted to drop something off."[/color] she explained, raising the bag. Davis curiously inspected the bag, but obvious wasn't going to be able to tell what was in it without looking inside, which proved to be difficult as Samantha was actively keeping it close to her. [b]"...and what is that, if you don't mind me askin'?"[/b] [color=red]"...yes."[/color] she replied. This elicited a raised eyebrow from the man. [b]"...yes?"[/b] [color=red]"Yes, I do mind. I would appreciate it if you ignored this, but I did want to store it in the fridge."[/color] There was a small fridge in the shop that Davis used to keep his lunch in since he wasn't the type to go to fast food joints all that often. Samantha using it wasn't unheard of, but he did find it odd she was particular about keeping the contents of the bag hidden from him. She'd only ever acted that way when he tried talking about things like what her life was like before they met, her history, that sort of stuff. Richard did not want to upset the girl, so he wouldn't pry into matters that she did not want to speak about. [b]"...That's fine."[/b] he told her, jabbing his thumb behind him, in the direction of the fridge. Sam disappeared into the depths of the shop, presumably to do the obvious, before she returned. Davis took note of her appearance at this time. He had noticed something off about her in general. If he hadn't been around her so much he might not have been able to tell, but she did look like she was exhausted beneath the mask of apathy she wore. [b]"Are you alr----"[/b] [b]*CRASH*[/b] An obnoxiously loud noise came from the front of the shop. It was so close that Richard was sure it had to be right at the door. His heart had begun racing since it startled him, and once he regained his composure, he noticed that Samantha was already back at the door of the shop despite her apparent exhaustion, a tense expression on her face. Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, it was actually intimidating. But, as quickly as it had came, her features fell back into a 'normal', expressionless one. [b]"What's the deal? Someone crash nearby?"[/b] he asked. [color=red]"...your sign fell."[/color] she stated, opening the door. Davis got up from the chair and trotted his way over to get a look. Sure enough, his sign with the store's name had given up the ghost and fell to the ground, damaging itself in the process. He shook his head, and gave an irritated grunt. It was his fault. It had been showing its age for a while now and he couldn't be pressed with getting off his ass and having a better look or doing anything about it. But it had lived a long life, for a sign anyways. It was probably a combination of weather and those punk-ass kids who used to throw rocks at it because it made a 'clang' sound. [b]"Are ya kiddin' me? This'll be a pain in the ass to replace."[/b] he muttered. [b]"...I'll have to get a new one, but would ya mind helping me put it up once I do? These old bones aren't meant for climbing ladders anymore."[/b] the man looked towards Sam. She was staring at the sign intently, though he couldn't figure out why that was. The girl turned towards Davis eventually. [color=red]"If you need me to, then it's fine."[/color] [b]"Thank you kindly, miss. It won't be today since I need to find a new sign, so I'll let you know when I got things sorted out. I'll let you go since you look pretty tired, I can handle a small mess like this myself."[/b] [color=red]"...alright."[/color] And with that, Samantha left the clock shop. ... ... ... [url=https://youtu.be/QOxsvjkykOs]It roared.[/url] In response, our heroine could only reel back in horror as she witnessed a monster straight out of a nightmare. At best, it could be described as a gooey mass of black, oozing despair and suffering each second it 'lived'. In the face of something like this, the situation felt hopeless. [b]"...W-why...?"[/b] a voice that could barely be made out as masculine breathed out. The true terror this man was likely feeling made it hard for him to speak with anything more than a whisper. [b]"W-what have you done...?"[/b] he couldn't take his eyes of that... 'thing' no matter how much he wished he could. It demanded his attention, and the attention of anybody unlucky enough to be in the same area. Our heroine tried her best to put on a brave face, though it had its cracks. She steeled her mind and body, wholly sure the outcome of the impending fight would have unfavorable results. But what else could she do? If she couldn't put an end to this monstrosity, then who would? It was her responsibility for bringing it into this world. She was not some hero, she wasn't that delusional, but even she couldn't stand to be the cause for the world's destruction. Before it could corrupt. Before it could maim. Before it could kill. She had to see the light shining behind the darkness, to make the impossible possible, and slay this creature, even if it was beyond her current capabilities. [b]"...Die, so that others may live!"[/b] The heroine swung a knife she'd retrieved from nearby, but it proved to be in vain. The strike merely bounced off the mountainous blob of black, wholly ineffective. Its retort was to release another gut-wrenching roar, knocking both the heroine and the poor sod off their feet. The man's face turned even whiter. At this point, one couldn't be blamed if they thought he was a ghost, trapped in this cruel world. The man did not attempt to get up, his resolve shattered entirely. He laid on his back, briefly recalling the good days and the bad, and regretting that things had reached this point. [b]"Is this it? Is this the end...?"[/b] this man was the first to succumb to the despair only a true horror could bring about. But he would be the last. The heroine was not going to go down this easy! She jumped to her feet, her uneasiness replaced by a determination that rivaled the despair. She couldn't let more fall to this bastard, even if it cost her everything. She drew her weapon once more. Fire in her heart, the answer became obvious. Much like how she brought this Embodiment of Despair into the world, she would need to use the same methods to remove it. This was not the time for playing. She would have to give this next attack her all. It was do or die, a "one and done" sort of deal. Either this saved her, what remained of this man, and the world... or everything was lost. With the stakes set so high, she charged at her foe. [b]"haaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"[/b] Her knife sunk deep into the beast as she plunged it as far as was possible. A moment passed, but then her knife was rejected, and sent flying straight into the ceiling. [b]"M-my attack failed...? N-no...!"[/b] With her last option exhausted, even the heroine was beginning to know true despair. But after a few moments, a cry of pain was emitted from the blob, and it began to convulse rather violently. The heroine was just barely able to turn away from the blast that occurred shortly after. [b]"...I-I did it!"[/b] .... .... .... .... .... .... The cleanup after the mess took quite some time. The explosion sent bits of it in every direction. Unwilling to ignore the possibility it might reform from even the smallest piece, they methodically collected every part and incinerated it. There was nothing but ash left. And that seemed to do the trick. The heroine turned to man, who was now a bright red instead of a pale white. [b]"HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO DO THAT?! I GAVE YOU SUPPLIES FOR A CAKE, NOT SOME HP LOVECRAFT SHIT!"[/b] he bellowed. The heroine, Samantha, scratched her head. [color=red]"I never said I was a good cook, you know."[/color] [b]"A GOOD COOK?!"[/b] he inhaled, then exhaled and repeated the process in an attempt to calm himself down. [b]"...I'm going to ignore that since my sanity can only take so much in one day."[/b] he pinched his temple. [b]"Look, when the boss said you could use the kitchen for this, I don't think he was under the impression you would somehow bring forth the antichrist with cake mix. So I'm going to be real here, and say that you're probably not allowed to cook here again."[/b] Samantha frowned. [color=red]"But..."[/color] [b]"BUT!"[/b] he interjected. [b]"If you promise that you will never cook again, anywhere, then I would not mind doing this for you. In order to prevent... whatever that was from happening again. Capiche?"[/b] The girl somehow got the impression this man was really not satisfied with her kitchen prowess. She would have to work on it in the future, she supposed. But how could she do so if she didn't ever cook again? [color=red]"...I suppose that's alright."[/color] Samantha lied as naturally as she breathed. As long as he did not find out, things would be fine. [b]"Good. Good! Then when I have some free time in the next couple of days, I'll make it. You still have some time, right?"[/b] She nodded. [color=red]"If it's in the next two days, that's perfect."[/color] With that, Samantha had left the Pitstop. .... .... .... Samantha had unfortunately been reminded of that experience that took place a day or so before the graveyard incident when she went to pick up the cake the man promised her. Being a regular at the Pitstop, she had gained the favor of the owner, who obliged with her request to borrow the kitchen when it was available. She would have done it at her own house, but she had never actually cooked a cake before and wanted input from one of the employees, hence why she did it there. Given that man's response, cake-making was not something that naturally came to her. [color=red]"Well, that only leaves one thing."[/color] she muttered to herself as she walked away from the clock store she was just in. [color=red]"But I guess I've got a good idea what to get."[/color]