Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 092

"What have you done? Where are we?" Jack raised her hand, summoning ribbons of energy that coalesced into floating shards of ice.

"Chill out, Elsa, this isn't what I had in mind." He stood, surveying the landscape. "Something else happened in the meatspace and I'm trying to figure out where we are."

"Mike." She said his name like a warning, causing his attention to snap onto her.

"Do you sleep?" He did a couple of leg raises, then patted the thigh that had been stabbed. "Because if so, I think this is the Dreamscape. Well, yours, specifically. Mine isn't so...disturbing."

"No, I don't sleep," she snapped.

"Well, that was my best guess, and..." he tilted his head as if listening to something. "Interesting. I can almost hear Naia, and she sounds upset. This isn't the Dreamscape, but something similar."

"We're...in my head?" Jack touched her forehead. Was Mike reading her thoughts?

"In your soul, apparently. Mind and soul are very different." He looked down at himself and clapped his hands. The stains on his body vanished. "Last thing I remember was my magic overloading and it connected to that damned ornament."

"Why would that matter?" she asked.

"Ghost of Christmas Past was inside. Last Christmas, technically. Had a small ball of divinity, not sure what that's about." He looked back up the hill. "Which, if my memory serves me, means that I'm supposed to be here. There's something he wants me to see."

"Who? Santa?" Jack scowled. "Seems like something that dick would do."

"Right? Dude could have just sent out some emails, would have been way easier." Mike looked up the hill and tilted his head. "Was he there, before?"

Near the top of the hill, a large man stood, his gaze fixed on the ocean. Thick white hair adorned broad shoulders, and the stranger was shirtless, his back covered in fresh wounds and old scars. The wind picked up, and the man's white beard billowed away from him.

"Is that Santa?" Mike asked. "What's he doing here?"

"No, Santa never looked so..." Jack didn't know how to describe it. The figure on the hill was like a magnet, pulling her toward him. Those thick shoulders rippled with power, and the man's hands looked as if they could squeeze a confession from iron itself.

"Appealing?" Mike finished. When Jack looked at him, he held up his hands in defense. "Hey, dude looks like a badass. Unless he's a total butterface, I would easily rate him as an eight out of ten from the back alone."

"I find nobody appealing," she spat, and then strode up the hill. Of course, this was a lie. Ever since she had been in Mike's care, she had found herself easily enamored by him. It hadn't made any sense, at least not until she learned that he had soul swapped with a nymph. Regardless, there was a presence he carried, one that felt intimately familiar. Freya had chastised her openly for it, but Jack suspected that the goddess might feel the same way.

"I'm literally inside your soul right now," he said from right behind her. "I can tell when you're lying. It makes the air taste like mustard."

"Mustard?" She turned and frowned. "What the hell?"

He shrugged. "Don't look at me. It's your soul."

Shaking her head, she continued back up the hill, slowing to navigate the slippery parts. Above them, the figure stood stoic and motionless, a spear with glowing runes carved into the head clutched tightly in his hands. He was leaning forward on it, using it to support his weight. The remnants of a golden helmet lay at his feet. It had been designed to look like a bird, but one of the wings was missing and the bird's head was bent backward, folded flat against the helmet's brow.

"You live." The figure turned to reveal a heavily scarred face. One eye was nothing more than scar tissue, and tears leaked heavily from the other. "Have you any word of your sister?"

"Sister?" Jack paused, causing Mike to bump into her. She felt a slight jolt of electricity at his touch, her heart briefly surging. "Freya has a sister?"

"No idea, but that's definitely not Santa," Mike remarked, moving next to her. "But he's not part of you, either, in case you're worried. This is a memory. They feel sticky."

"Sticky?"

"Yeah, cause it can't be changed." He moved closer to the man. "He seems to be waiting for you to say something."

"What does he want me to say?" She moved next to the stranger and stared out at the horizon. There had once been a fleet of boats there, but now there was naught but shattered timbers.

Wait, how did she know that?

"Any news of my dear Frigga, please, I beg of you. Even if it's bad." The man moved toward her and extended a hand to touch her shoulder. Jack flinched away, but was surprised when a golden figure emerged from her body and stepped into the touch. It was a different version of herself, with long hair and vibrant skin. The crown was clutched in her doppelganger's hand.

"I fear she may have fallen." The doppelganger bowed her head in reverence. "Both her army and my own now lie in ruin. The invaders could not be stopped and I barely escaped myself."

"They have taken everything from us but our lives. I fear even those may not be enough to satisfy them." The man spat at the ground in frustration.

"Odin," Freya whispered, wiping the tear from his cheek. "We must flee. My sister, she may yet live. If you do not survive this day, you shall never know for sure."

"My place is here," he told her, his fingers tangling in her hair and lingering. "That you and the others may have a chance. For if we fall this day, there must be someone else to guide the humans."

"There's a chance the invaders will fail," she replied. "Other plans have been put in action. The gods themselves, they might--"

There was a loud rumble, followed by a crack of thunder that knocked Jack and Mike to the ground. Rolling onto her back, Jack looked down the hill and gasped as the distant clouds parted to reveal the largest tree she had ever seen. Its thick branches were decorated with sparkling star fields, the leaves adorned in gaseous nebulae and star clusters. One branch had been snapped clean off by a being made of twisted shadows that leaned forward to reveal a hideous face that--

The whole world scrambled, and Jack clutched her head, looking away from the entity up above, a being whose body surpassed the stars. Behind her, Mike gagged repeatedly, and she turned to see that blood was leaking from his eyes and nose.

"Mike?" She reached for him, but he swatted her hand away.

"Don't touch me!" he gasped, the air around him distorting. She could see it now, the magic of Mike Radley, whipping around him like a hungry storm. For a few seconds, she feared that he would burst apart as the air shimmered, but eventually settled.

"Are you...okay?" She was afraid to move any closer.

Mike sniffed, then spat blood onto the ground. She noticed he kept his gaze away from the giant tree in the distance. "Yeah, I'm fine, it's just...for a moment, it felt like I was being pulled apart and my magic...sorry."

Odin and Freya seemed troubled by the sight of the hideous face, but weren't affected otherwise.

"That cursed thing would consume us all," Odin said with a growl. "A being from outside time and space, capable of bending reality to its will."

"How are we supposed to battle such a creature?" Freya asked. "Its army shattered our own, drove us out of Alfheim. And for what?"

"To treat the gods as a midnight snack." Odin spat on the ground. "This is not Ragnarok, there is no glory here. To die at the hands of such a beast is to cease to have ever been, to be wiped from time itself."

Freya put a hand to her mouth in horror. "Surely that can't be true."

"Aye." Odin touched a spot below his missing eye. "I can feel their absence, yet know nothing of them. Should this beast succeed in its task, then this plane and all of its denizens shall cease to be. Even now, those we have defeated return all the stronger for it."

The Norse god nodded down the hill, and Jack saw that the glittering black fluid was forming into a pool that thickened around the middle as something tried to come through the other side.

"I should have listened," Odin whispered. "When the others came to me and warned me of this. For though I am all-seeing, I was still blind to the truth."

Freya embraced him, holding him tight. "You were not alone in your blindness."

"But you may yet have a chance." Odin pushed her away. "Maybe you can catch up with the others?"

She shook her head. "It is too late for that. They are already with the Architect and are safely away."

"Then you must flee." Odin turned his gaze on Freya. "Hide yourself, and await our return."

"And what will you do?" she asked him.

"Those of us who remain will have to be enough." Odin curled his lip and raised his spear. "For in the beginning, we said let there be light, and it was good."

The fluid formed into a being that made Jack's heart race. She couldn't focus on any part of it as the creature shifted beneath her gaze.

"Until we meet again!" Odin pressed his forehead to Freya's, then let out a war cry before leaping through the air and bringing the weapon down onto the beast that had formed. All along the hillside, the red blood had turned black and crawled toward the apex, approaching Freya's feet.

"I take my leave," Freya spat, throwing her crown down the hillside where it was consumed by the darkness. With fire in her eyes, she turned her gaze to the ocean below the cliff. "But know that I shall return. Father! My fate is in your hands!"

The goddess turned to the cliff and leapt, the memory now crawling in slow motion. A tendril of light connected Freya to Jack, and she was ripped through the air and off the cliff with the goddess.

Mike snagged one of Jack's outstretched hands, and the three of them fell together toward the crashing waves below. Golden light formed around Jack and Freya as the distance between the two of them shortened until they merged.

When they hit the water, it shattered like glass, each piece reflecting a different memory as she and Mike tumbled through darkness together. They were spiraling out of control now, but Mike kept a tight grip on her wrist.

"It's your soul!" he shouted over the howling winds. "Nothing in here can hurt you!"

Of that, Jack wasn't sure. She could feel Freya's heart weep for her missing sister, for the loss of her brother Freyr. It had all started with a crack in the base of Yggdrasil from which monstrosities poured. The beings had been easy enough for her children to slay at first, but the incursions had steadily become more violent as the beasts multiplied.

The spirits of the dead in her care had been devoured before her eyes, filling her with a boundless wrath. It was the source of her anger, the rage that had been yanked to the surface by the Krampus. It was like the bastard had known exactly how to manipulate her.

A cold feeling flowed through her body, her magic swirling around her and changing their trajectory. They hit one of the glass shards, shattering it into prismatic crystals that danced around them as they crashed into the cold snow of the Arctic north.

They struck the ground hard enough that Mike bounced away from Jack and the breath was forced from her body. She slid through the snow for several seconds, weeping tears of red gold.

This was where Mike found her moments later, huddled up and grieving. He didn't say anything, but knelt by her side to keep her company.

"Is this what you wanted, Caretaker?" She turned an angry gaze on him. "To make me whole, so that I may feel terrible things?"

He shook his head, a golden light shimmering around his body. "Sometimes it's hard being whole. It sounds counterintuitive, but it's true. We often cling to pieces of ourselves in an effort to avoid the truth, but that's no way to live. You end up walking the earth as a shadow of who you should be." He noticed the gold light on his hand and tried to shake it off. "Shit, this stuff stings."

"Of course it does. It's not for you." Jack slapped at Mike, trying to claw the divinity off his soul. Some of it stuck to her fingers, but the rest settled against Mike's skin and was absorbed. She examined the substance in her hands and frowned. It felt familiar, yet foreign.

The soft crunch of footfalls on ice made her turn toward the source. A large man in a white robe carried a limp figure in his arms. It was a woman, her body so cold that she had turned blue. Long auburn tresses were falling out in clumps, leaving behind a shock of white on the top of her head.

Saltwater dripped from both Santa and the woman. He stopped by his sleigh and knelt in the snow to set what was left of Freya down on the ice. The goddess shivered, her body covered in open wounds. Several of them were bite marks, while others were clearly the work of a blade.

A shadowy figure appeared in front of Santa, kneeling down to examine Freya. It was Christmas Future, the spirit more like a shadow than a ghost. The spirit inspected the goddess and shook its head.

"Surely there must be something we can do to help her." Santa had a thick accent along with a voice that rumbled like a distant train.

Freya held up a frostbitten hand, golden light gathering in her palm. Santa knelt down next to her, listening to words that Jack couldn't hear.

"Are you sure?" Santa asked. Freya nodded, her eyes never opening. Santa turned his attention to Christmas Future, who had turned to stare at both Mike and Jack.

The spirit contemplated them for several moments, then turned to Santa and nodded.

"That guy's a dick," Mike said, gesturing to Christmas Future. "I just wanted to go on record about it, that's all. And if he can hear me--good."

With a heavy sigh, Santa took the golden light for himself, placing it in his beard. His thick whiskers trembled with hunger as they absorbed the light of the goddess. It hadn't been until last century that the tiny tentacles had become indistinguishable from a beard, a fact that Jack was surprised to learn she had forgotten.

"If it's for the good of the children, I will do it, for I am but a humble servant. I shall keep your identity, until the time comes." He looked up to the sky and held his hands wide in supplication. "Spirits of the North, hear my call."

"What is this?" Jack demanded, taking a step back from the scene before her. Freya's body shriveled inward now that the golden light was gone, her hair becoming brittle and breaking off in the snow. The northern lights descended on Freya, swirling about like excited fireflies as they lifted her into the air and remade her body.

"Looks like your origin story." Mike put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "And I think I know what Santa did with that divinity he took from you. You really don't remember any of this?"

"I really don't." Had she known Santa before this moment? He certainly didn't seem too surprised by her appearance.

The scene became a smear as the northern lights gobbled up the darkness, and Jack closed her eyes to block out their brightness. She could see the vortex through her eyelids, which disoriented her. She stumbled forward, opening her eyes to see that Freya's body was gone. There was a spectral figure standing where Freya should have been, a place where the northern lights were refracted as if through a prism.

"No, stop, I don't want to--" She was cut off when Mike pushed her forward, causing her to collide and merge with the spectral body. More memories ripped through her, showering her with different images until she was back in the mirror chamber beneath Santa's Workshop, contemplating Freya through the glass.

"Finally." Freya tilted her head back to look down her nose at Jack. "I was wondering how long it would take you to get here."

Jack didn't respond. Her head felt as if it would burst, each memory a seed that had grown into a tree. She was living through each moment simultaneously, her consciousness pulled in every direction until it felt like she would burst.

"Can you feel all that we were now?" Freya's lips curled up in disgust. "We weren't just worshiped. We were loved. The outsiders, they took all of that away from us!"

"Stop, please." Jack clutched at her head, now watching scenes of strange beings punching holes through reality to assault Asgard. It was a place she had never visited, but now remembered intimately. Long walks in the gardens, poetry by the river, festivals of laughter and light, all of it stripped away in a one-sided slaughter.

"You can't handle this," Freya told her, stepping through the mirror. The scene faded, leaving just Freya and Jack in a white void, surrounded by thousands of still images. "You are just a fragment, after all. Please." She held out a hand. "I can make it all go away. All you have to do is let go, give it all back to me. Then you can sleep."

Jack cried out in pain, then reached for Freya's hand. It really would be so easy to just let it go, to have Freya take over. She seemed more confident than Jack, and so much stronger. The pain in her head was terrible, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and rest.

Someone stepped between them. A warm hand took hers. When she looked up, she saw that it was Mike.

"You're not the fragment," he told her, pulling her into his arms. "You're only seeing what Freya wants you to see. Sorry it took me a bit to get here, I think I may have blacked out for a second in the real world. Being here isn't easy."

Freya hissed and tried to push her way past Mike.

"Her soul is being torn apart, she isn't ready!"

"That's because she isn't whole," Mike replied. He lifted his head and grabbed Freya's wrist. "And neither are you."

"Wait, I--" Freya screamed as Mike pulled her into his embrace as well, holding the two women together. The years poured into Jack's mind, everything Freya had ever seen or heard, and she screamed in agony as hundreds of large cracks formed in the void around them, her soul now stretching like taffy around each of them.

Mike went with her, his soul similarly stretched. Where hers was like taffy, his was molten silver, shifting and spreading with ease to encase her body. Sweat poured down his forehead as he held both Jack and Freya in his arms. The cracks in her mind roared, then burst apart, her consciousness now in hundreds of pieces.

And still, Mike was with her.

"What's happening?" Jack whispered. Hundreds of iterations of her whispered the same thing, creating a roar of Jacks that drowned each other out.

"I...have...help!" Mike's eyes opened to reveal that they were changing colors. Jack looked around and saw that even though there were dozens of Mikes holding her and Freya together, there were several instances of women doing the job instead. A beautiful woman in white robes with blue hair, a buxom cyclops with her hair in a loose braid, and even a goblin. There was a version of Yuki as well, all of them holding Jack and Freya together as golden light ripped through the void and danced along the edges of the cracks.

"I don't want to go back!" Freya's voice was tinged with desperation. "Don't make me go back to sleep, I beg of you!"

"Nobody is...going to sleep..." Mike gritted his teeth and his eyes blazed with golden light. The scene repeated everywhere, and the torrent of memories became diluted. "In fact, it's time for both of you to..."

Jack cried out in agony, pressure building in her chest as Freya's body melted into her own. She could no longer fight, gasping for air as Freya's face was pressed into hers.

"WAKE UP!" Mike's voice boomed, filling the void before it exploded.

❄️❄️❄️

She was cold when she opened her eyes, staring up into a prismatic sky. The man leaning over her wore a white coat with a beard to match. His blue eyes sparkled, though she swore for a moment that she had seen stars in them.