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Doctor, Would You Re-Animate My Beyond?

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Daniel Cain currently had an icepick lodged in his thigh, water deep in his lungs, and the threat of imminent death quite literally hanging over his head, and yet all he could think about was why all of the men in goddamn Arkham seemed to have come out of a failed cloning experiment with Edgar Allen Poe’s DNA.

“Mr. Cain,” their host drawled, “Would you rather pull the lever to release the scorpions onto your head or kiss Mr. Tillinghast?”

“What,” Dan managed flatly.

“I-Is this some sort of trap?” the anxious young man next to him asked, hand somehow managing to brush the icepick, shoving it deeper into Dan’s thigh.

“Twenty seconds,” Lambrick crooned with a smile. Dan rolled his eyes.

“C-Can I kiss you?” Stanford (or was it Crawford? Something with a ‘Ford’ in it…) whispered, cheek still bleeding from when he’s had to carve the Lambrick seal into it with a plastic razor.

“Cain! Ten seconds!”

“Fuck it,” Dan mumbled, grabbing WhateverFord’s tiny chin and smashing their lips together, not even bothering to pretend he was kissing Herbert (who he was still mad at for leaving three severed hands in his beer cooler).

“Daniel! What do you think you’re doing!”

Well, think of the devil.

Dan turned to see Herbert and another Poe clone shooting down the army butler and various other Lambrick staff with pure fury in their eyes.

“How dare you come here! How dare you beg HIM for money like a whore!” Herbert shrieked, pointing his gun at Lambrick, who had shakily pulled his own pistol out with an arrogant pout.

“Well, young man, how dare YOU kill my servants and interrupt my Game!” Lambrick retorted, eyeing the man Herbert had brought with him. Dan noticed that despite the 4 feet of snow and lack of wind indoors, he was wearing nearly-transparent blue robes that were blowing and fluttering all around him. At this point, Dan wasn’t even fazed.

“And of course you’re here, Crawford. What, Pedotorius cut your funding after you finally grew your first chest hair?”

Crawford looked ready to cry. “Maybe if you weren’t such a shit brother, I’d actually have enough self-respect to leave! Who disowns their twin, Herbert?”

“You have a twin brother? Are you fucking serious?” Dan shouted. This shit was just getting worse by the millisecond. “And who the hell is he?” Dan pointed at the silent man who appeared to be doing some sort of motionless karate pose next to Lambrick, who looked ready to piss himself with muffled laughter.

“He says he’s a wizard. I don’t believe him, but I needed his car.”

Dan rolled his eyes and Herbert smiled, shooting Lambrick point-blank before ripping the icepick out of Dan’s leg and lodging it into Crawford’s temple.

“We’re leaving, Danny. You carry mustache, I’ll take care of Crawford.”

Wordlessly, Dan slung the corpse over his shoulder, sliding the door open for Herbert with a resigned look on his face.