Dungeon Item Shop - Chapter 380
âYou still donât get it, do you?â asks the voice.
Fresh floats there, upside down, her arms crossed as she glares at the entity, which has once again summoned her to it in her deepest dreams. She furrows her brow. âI think youâre the one who doesnât get it,â replies Fresh. âIâm trying to get a good nightâs sleep. Weâre opening the store early tomorrow morning, you know?â
The water all around her churns and swirls, her body drifting around inside of the current.
âAre you delusional?â asks the voice of the fountain, whispering into her ear. âAre you really some kind of moron?â
âYes,â replies Fresh, plainly, turning her head to look towards the source of the voice. But as her gaze turns to it, it draws away, the silhouette pulling back into the darkness where she canât see it clearly. âSo go away and let me get my sleep. I need it.â
The water begins to bubble, the voice begins to hiss. âWhy donât I just take away your powers and kill your friends?â
âI donât know?â asks Fresh, shrugging. âWhy donât you go spend those coins you collect on some people whoâll pretend to like you for a day?â she asks coldly. âItâll do you some good.â
Her body twists as the raging waters of the black ocean compress against her like two fists, pushing the halves of her body in different directions.
âYouâre not going to do anything,â says Fresh a moment later as her âbodyâ pulls itself back together. She floats there, unimpressed. âIf you were, you would have already. You need me,â she explains, turning on her side, resting her head in her hand as she âlaysâ there, suspended in the water.
âAnd for how long do you think this is going to last?â it asks. âWeâre almost done. I wonât need you anymore after that.â
Fresh shrugs. âThatâs fine. Iâm through with you too,â she says. âIâm really grateful that you let me have this life,â she explains. âBut youâre such a dick and Iâm not gonna put up with it anymore.â
The water churns. âExcuse me?â
âYou heard me,â replies Fresh, channeling her inner Jubilee. âWhy canât you just be nice?â she asks. âWe donât have to be friends. But I really want to like you, you know?â she asks. Fresh taps her finger into her palm, looking at a loose coin that is floating past herself in the distant water. âBesides. I paid you for this. So I think itâs fair to expect better service than what youâve offered.â
â- Is this a game to you?â asks the fountain. A crushing pressure seems to be mounting in the water. âYou killed them. All of them. Millions more still will die before weâre done,â it hisses. âBecause of you. Mothers, fathers, children, saints, the loved and the sacred, all of them have been made quiet,â explains the voice, floating ever closer towards her from behind until she can hear it breathing down her neck. âSo what makes you think youâre safe from me?â
Fresh spins around, lifting a finger and quickly tapping it against a nose. âBoop!â she says in delight. The entity quickly retreats and she laughs. âI donât care,â says Fresh plainly, her voice echoing around the black-water. âIâll do it again,â she says, holding her arms out to her sides and humming as she spins around in an odd sort of pirouette, a wide smile on her face. The âkilling everyoneâ thing, she means. Not the âboopingâ part. Though, sheâll do that again too, if she gets the chance. â- And again and again and again and again -â Fresh spins around, her arms outstretched, her âfingersâ moving through the water, creating a swirl of loose particulate around herself which floats adrift like the spirits of a million departed souls. â- and again and again and again -â she goes on and on, spinning and chanting over and over, until she comes to a stop.
The horrible witch smiles a warm, kind smile as she thinks about the thing that will bring her the most joy in this whole world; waking up in a few minutes surrounded by her friends in a warm bed. Sheâll have a few minutes before they wake up, so sheâll secretly cuddle them and pretend it had happened âwhile she was asleepâ and then after a while, theyâll get up and have breakfast and theyâll open the store and work together and theyâll have fun conversations and tasks and theyâll face difficult challenges and troubles. But theyâll do so together!
TogetherâŠ
Sheâs never going to go back, sheâs never going to be so alone and sad and cold ever again. Never. NEVER. Fresh beams, spinning once more. This is the best! â- and again and again and again!â She stops once more, her arms still outstretched as she looks over her shoulder towards the entity, watching her. Fresh smiles. âBut you already knew that. Weâre really not so different, right?â she asks, tilting her head, a strand of flowing, sickly greenish blonde hair flowing past her eyes in the water, barely obscuring the vision of the person she sees suspended in the distance. â- Perchta?â
The entity, the silhouette barely visible in the water, a body, a face that looks much like her own, a reflection, narrows its eyes.
âGet back to work.â
Fresh wakes up, staring at the ceiling. She can feel the warmth glowing over her face, not from the shining sun that barely peeks in through the window, hanging above the suffering city outside of their four walls. But rather, from the fantastic nightâs sleep she just had.
Fresh stretches her arms and legs out, wiggling her toes and fingers, her lower back pops in a deeply satisfying way. Cautiously looking around that the others are still asleep, Fresh, despite the wetness of the mattress from her latest fountain-dream, carefully and quietly turns herself sideways, gently throwing her arms over Jubilee, lifting her legs so sheâs draped over Basil and Shamrock, so that they all lay in one big heap like a den of feral animals in the deep forest.
The horrible witch beams in delight, closing her eyes again. Today is going to be another great day. Sheâs going to make sure of it, no matter what it costs anyone else. Because everyone else outside of these four walls of theirs, simply doesnât matter. Not in the same deeply meaningful way that her family does. Not anymore. Not to her. Except perhaps to serve as customers to keep their business moving. They, as people, are essentially irrelevant for her happiness. She doesnât want them to suffer or to die or anything like that, but, sheâs just at a place where sheâll choose herself and her family over them every single time, without fail.
This family of hers, this strong feeling is the difference between herself and the fountain, who is perhaps the theoretical end result of her personal and spiritual development, had she festered in her loneliness forever just like she had done so in her old life, just in a world like this instead of that other one. But now, she feels the thing that Perchta, the fountain, doesnât have. The thing that keeps her on track and on focus every day. She feels love inside of herself. True, deep, warm love for her family. It feels stronger than anything she has ever known.
Fresh wiggles herself snugly into place, feeling Basilâs arm flop around and strike her as she has one of her odd dreams.
Today seems like a good day to see what the hero is up to and to deal with the whole red-wizard situation. But first, a few more minutes of sleep. The world isnât going anywhere.
At least not right now.
Razmatazz
What? Yeah. Fresh isn’t just good at mental health, she’s basically the world champion of it. Why do you ask? Everything is fine. Stop worrying about it. Sheesh, you’re breaking my heart, reader. x-x