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Hollow wakes up with a start, lurching forward off the bed. He sighs and rips off the blanket. It’s too damn hot. The sheet catches on his foot and he lets out another sigh, this time opting to give up and simply rest his face in his hands. Another gruesome dream. Though given past experiences they knew better than to dismiss it as such. No this was unfortunately a vision of things to come, and like most annoyances in their life they were pretty sure there was no way to stop it. Not like he cared enough to try. He certainly didn’t have a reason to.

Finally after sitting there uselessly for the majority of his morning, Hollow turned to stand up and stretch. He didn’t usually get up this early, but visions of dying children tended to throw off his routine. They glared down at the ruby red amulet curled around their neck. For something so disruptive it had been oddly quiet today. It would’ve been a blessing if it didn’t make their skin crawl with dread.

“Hey assholes, no shitty advice for me? Just felt like waking me up?”

Nothing.

Growing frustrated he ripped the accursed thing off and threw it somewhere out of sight. They knew it didn’t matter, but throwing it had become a stress relieving habit lately. With that taken care of, Hollow walked over to his closet. It’s a shame he never bothers to shop, especially considering he’s got a date today.

——

The sun was bright and the air wasn’t hot so much as muggy. It’d definitely be freezing by the time night fell. Heeled shoes made a distinct clacking on the sidewalk as Hollow took long strides in the direction of Ole’s flower shop. He never did bother to remember the name, and calling it hers worked well enough. They made it to the corner just as the doorbell chimed. Out stepped Oleander, soft peach hair tied back and forehead creased slightly as she focused locking the front door with its rusty key. Her outfit was casual and snug, a knitted sweater pulled over an autumn dress that reached her thighs. They would’ve thought she intended to catch a cold were it not for the stockings and leg warmers. With Ole’s concentration still firmly on her battle with the lock, Hollow allowed themself a second to blush and turn away. He always denies it whenever she catches him staring, but he wants to avoid her knowing grin all the same. After an eternity the lock finally clicks and Ole turns just as Hollow does.

“Oh!”, she sighs and puts a hand over her chest before looking up, eyes full of relief, “I told you to stop doing that!”

“I’ve been standing here this whole time”

“Doesn’t excuse the lack of personal- wait did you say the whole time, then,,”

He grins as relief turns into realization. “You should really get a new key”.

“Oh shush!”

She stuffs the key into a pocket on the side of her dress before wrapping a soft arm around Hollow’s. His shoulders release the tension he’s opted to ignore until now. Ole’s presence is warm and comforting, something he needs after this morning. They hesitantly pull their hand out of their trench coat and intertwine it with hers. Ole’s fingers are plush unlike his but it only serves to make them fit perfectly. He doesn’t even mind the pollen stains, as much as he’ll complain about it later.

“So where are we going today?”

She looks up at him playfully, orange locks bouncing as the two start to walk.

“Somewhere ~amazing~”

This gets him a squint, though he pays her skepticism no mind.

“Amazing how exactly?”

“It’s the most magical place in town”

“Please tell me its not what I think it is”

“Oh yea”

Hollow stops and turns, gesturing to the large red sign so there can be no mistake.

“Welcome to Arby’s”

——

The two take a seat after getting their orders. Ole decided to try their season special limited edition pumpkin spice latte milkshake; Hollow took the safer route and chose the aptly named number four: black goop with a side of fries. He poked the conspicuous blob and Ole grimaced when it moved.

“For the sake of both our appetites, please don’t eat that”

“At least I didn’t order an affront to nature”

She stared at him blankly for a second before ever so slowly taking a long agonizing sip of the milkshake, her eyes not leaving his.

“,,,,hot”

As soon as the word leaves his mouth, she sputters. A hand clasps over her mouth as chuckles and coughs try to escape. Hollow grins like the bastard he is.

“Don’t say stuff like that while I’m drinking!”, Ole barely gets the words out between coughs, and despite the struggle she’s wearing a smile that fully reaches her eyes. His smirk turns slightly upwards into something more gentle.

Perhaps it was the lull of Ole’s voice, the self consciousness of his smile, or most likely the chime of the Arby’s door bell that made him look back. Either way, all of Hollow’s morning anxieties swept over him like a plague the second dark fluffy ears entered the restaurant. Damien wore his usual hoodie, the same one he wore to the park, the same one he was killed in. The boy, with eyes like his mother’s yet kind like his sister’s, briskly walked over towards a booth. It was already occupied and Hollow wracks their brain for a reason they completely missed the group of young teens. On one side sat Java and Tourma, awkwardly close with just enough room to knock each other’s cups over by mistake. On the other side sat Blossom, patiently waiting for her brother and scooting over to make more room as he walked over.

Hollow barely caught the conversation as Damien sat down but it didn’t matter. His mind was buzzing, in a way that made him almost wish the amulet would say something, anything. He barely managed to brush off Ole’s concern, convincing her to continue talking but failing to alleviate her worries completely. He swore it was something he’d take care of later. They couldn’t bare to lie to her.

Looks like they’ll be getting involved after all.

Celeste’s hands shook as they held the sword of truth. So righteous. They should feel honored, they should feel blessed, yet all they feel is sorrow. How could they be such a fool.

“You don’t have to do this Celeste! You know what they’re doing is wrong, you told me yourself!”, Damien’s cries, while from the heart, fall on deaf ears.

“NO YOU ARE WRONG HALF BREED SON. THE CHOIR SEEKS CHANGE AND YOU ARE NOW OLD. THIS WORLD HAS NO FURTHER NEED FOR YOU”, they no longer spoke as Celeste, but as The Choir. Voices commanding even as their arms trembled under the sword’s weight.

“Please, don’t let them take away who you are, I know you Celeste.”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING”

“I know you’re my friend! And I know you don’t want this!”

“…”

“Just put the sword down”, he outstretched a paw. “Let’s go have cookies with Psinn”, his expression was casual, as if this were any other day.

Distantly, Celeste hesitated. Mind at odds over what they were doing. Was this right? The Choir was always right. A fact they couldn’t deny, but Damien’s words held truth as well. Damien’s truth, however, would amount to very little in the end.

The Choir was always right. Eventually they all would fall.

And fall Damien did, the sword of truth forever stained by mortal blood. The Choir did not rejoice. Celeste, no, the third speaker stood over the lifeless boy. They did what was right, and yet nothing’s ever felt more wrong.

The Choir did not weep for the old ones, and so Celeste would be the first.

“Goodbye Damien”