Chapter Text
He felt as if he had been in a daze of darkness for a long time…
He felt completely exhausted and weak.
There were moments when Philip became aware, and his instincts took over to keep him safe… to keep him alive…
He wasn’t sure how long it had been since his failed attempt to destroy the Boiling Isles and its wicked inhabitants, but he knew that days had passed since he returned home.
Home…
Despite the walls falling apart, with old newspapers and garbage scattered across the cracked, stained, wooden floors, he recognized it as his own. The place he hadn’t seen for many centuries. The very one that he was born in and grew up with his brother…
He had thought that upon returning home, he would feel something reminiscent of joy or sadness, but instead, he felt empty.
Completely empty…
His glowing blue eyes gazed at the living room, barely lit up by the moon, for a few more minutes before he turned to the worn-out couch, then to the darkened chimney, and finally to the stairs across from him. All he saw were fragments of a past long forgotten.
He tried to stand up but collapsed instead.
Slowly, he raised his right hand, revealing a long, thin, brown limb with very long fingers. He lifted his left arm, which looked the same but mostly green.
He looked down at himself and saw that his frame was sickly, green, brown, and sludgy looking.
His hands went to his face and instantly could feel exposed teeth, confirming his suspicion that he was in his cursed form. Well, half the usual size, which explains why he didn’t take so much space in the living room.
He tried to curse under his breath, but instead a growl made its way from his mouth.
If he could, he would have frowned at the sound he just made. Unfortunately, his mouth was in such a state that it couldn’t make any human expressions.
He tried speaking again, and again, and only the sounds grunts and growls kept coming out.
Panic began to eat him up, but he took slow, deep breaths to calm his nerves.
He mentally told himself that he would be okay. There was no way he would be stuck in this grotesque form, unable to speak properly. He reminded himself he was still recovering from the Collector’s attack.
But then he wondered, how was he recovering?
Earth had no magic.
Perhaps the magic form the countless palismans he had absorbed was still affecting him.
Magic…
His mind went back to the Boiling Isles.
Oh, he was honestly enraged at what happened to his plans to destroy the wicked island and its people. For Christ’s sake, he had lived for centuries and worked so hard for everything to fall apart.
Years of suffering and sacrifice to protect humanity, and he had failed…
And all thanks to a human girl.
A human girl who had been bewitched by those foul creatures of the Boiling Isles, just like his brother…
Luz and her friends somehow freed the Collector who had stopped the draining spell…The witches and demons continue to live… even if they were now stuck with the Collector in the Boiling Isles.
He could hope with the Collector in the Boiling Isles, there was no way any of the witches or demons would come to Earth, but he felt a feeling it was of no use.
They will somehow come to Earth and infect human society.
If only he had taken more decisive actions against Luz and her friends. He could have gone out to the owl house and killed Luz and that blasted witch of hers himself. He could have done it. He could have killed them easily in their sleep and no one would have known it was him.
He was a fool… that was what he was… so stupid to have shrugged her off simply because she was human.
Yes, he wanted to help her get back home - after all, she was from Earth - but the mercy he gave her was his undoing. A huge mistake on his part.
He shook his head from the frustration that was gradually building up.
‘Let’s go eat dinner, Philip!’
An ancient memory flashed through his mind as he stared at the stairs. He could see a young boy with short blonde hair running downstairs.
No…
Something deep inside of him twisted painfully, which made him quickly turn to the door as his heart raced.
He had to get out of there now.
He yanked the door open so he could dash out of the house, but something struck his chest before wires latched around his limbs, crushing them against his body.
Suddenly he let out a screech of agony as countless bolts shocked through him.
“I got him!” someone yelled out as Philip struggled against his restraints, he felt he was burning alive.
He stumbled back before he felt the world turn sideways. His body hit the ground hard. The electric shocks from whatever was binding him stopped and left him panting heavily, and in pain.
“Hurry, before it’s too late!” another voice called out, both sounded feminine.
Philip did his best to stay conscious, but unfortunately, his weakened form did not last long before he was met with darkness again.
