Dungeon Item Shop - Chapter 380: I am in my good place (Patreon)

“You still don’t get it, do you?” 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. “I think you’re the one who doesn’t get it,” replies Fresh. “I’m trying to get a good night’s sleep. We’re opening the store early tomorrow morning, you know?”

The water all around her churns and swirls, her body drifting around inside of the current.

“Are you delusional?” asks the voice of the fountain, whispering into her ear. “Are you really some kind of moron?”

“Yes,” 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 can’t see it clearly. “So go away and let me get my sleep. I need it.”

The water begins to bubble, the voice begins to hiss. “Why don’t I just take away your powers and kill your friends?”

“I don’t know?” asks Fresh, shrugging. “Why don’t you go spend those coins you collect on some people who’ll pretend to like you for a day?” she asks coldly. “It’ll do you some good.”

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.

“You’re not going to do anything,” says Fresh a moment later as her ‘body’ pulls itself back together. She floats there, unimpressed. “If you were, you would have already. You need me,” she explains, turning on her side, resting her head in her hand as she ‘lays’ there, suspended in the water.

“And for how long do you think this is going to last?” it asks. “We’re almost done. I won’t need you anymore after that.”

Fresh shrugs. “That’s fine. I’m through with you too,” she says. “I’m really grateful that you let me have this life,” she explains. “But you’re such a dick and I’m not gonna put up with it anymore.”

The water churns. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” replies Fresh, channeling her inner Jubilee. “Why can’t you just be nice?” she asks. “We don’t have to be friends. But I really want to like you, you know?” she asks. Fresh taps her finger into her palm, looking at a loose coin that is floating past herself in the distant water. “Besides. I paid you for this. So I think it’s fair to expect better service than what you’ve offered.”

“- Is this a game to you?” asks the fountain. A crushing pressure seems to be mounting in the water. “You killed them. All of them. Millions more still will die before we’re done,” it hisses. “Because of you. Mothers, fathers, children, saints, the loved and the scared, all of them have been made quiet,” explains the voice, floating ever closer towards her from behind until she can hear it breathing down her neck. “So what makes you think you’re safe from me?”

Fresh spins around, lifting a finger and quickly tapping it against a nose. “Boop!” she says in delight. The entity quickly retreats and she laughs. “I don’t care,” says Fresh plainly, her voice echoing around the black-water. “I’ll do it again,” 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 ‘killing everyone’ thing, she means. Not the ‘booping’ part. Though, she’ll do that again too, if she gets the chance. “- And again and again and again and again-” Fresh spins around, her arms outstretched, her ‘fingers’ moving through the water, creating a swirl of loose particulate around herself which floats adrift like the spirits of a million departed souls. “- and again and again and again -” 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. She’ll have a few minutes before they wake up, so she’ll secretly cuddle them and pretend it had happened ‘while she was asleep’ and then after a while, they’ll get up and have breakfast and they’ll open the store and work together and they’ll have fun conversations and tasks and they’ll face difficult challenges and troubles. But they’ll do so together!

Together…

She’s never going to go back, she’s never going to be so alone and sad and cold ever again. Never. NEVER. Fresh beams, spinning once more. This is the best! “- and again and again and again!” She stops, her arms still outstretched as she looks over her shoulder towards the entity, watching her. Fresh smiles. “But you already knew that. We’re really not so different, right?” 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. “- Perchta?”

The entity, the silhouette barely visible in the water, a body, a face that looks much like her own, a reflection, narrows its eyes.

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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 night’s sleep she 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, throwing her arms over Jubilee, lifting her legs so she’s draped over Basil and Shamrock, so that they all lay in one big heap like a den of feral animals in the forest.

The horrible witch beams in delight, closing her eyes again. Today is going to be another great day. She’s going to make sure of it, no matter what it costs anyone else. Because everyone else outside of these four walls of theirs, simply doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Not to her. Except perhaps to serve as customers to keep their business moving. They, as people, are irrelevant for her happiness.

They’re disposable.

That is the difference between herself and the fountain who is perhaps the end result of her development had she festered in her loneliness like she had in her old life, just in a world like this instead. 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 Basil’s 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 isn’t going anywhere.

At least not right now.

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What? Yeah. Fresh isn't just good at mental health, she's basically the champion of it. Why do you ask? Everything is fine. Stop worrying about it. Sheesh. x-x