“Welcome to the midnight hour, little owls.”
Malakai Midnight stands beside an altar, watching as the flames reflect in his piercing red eyes.
“Your predicament is mighty, Maxwell, but it’s all your own making. Every decision and choice made that has led you to this place, has been your own. From the abandonment of your son after your wife perished to joining him inside the Odyssey Pool, you’ve made decision after decision that left a lot to be desired.
And that’s okay. It happens. No-one can be perfect, little owl. Not even I.”
He turns around and walks towards his owls, who stand holding a bleating goat over a symbol scrawled into the ground.
“One might consider the decisions they make, had they made so many wrong ones. But not you. You double down on your errors. You take a small problem and turn it into a larger one.
When you left the Pool Boys, you made another terrible decision. You once again acted in what you thought were your best interests, but in actual fact, you only succeeded in making another mistake.”
Malakai grabs a sharp knife and holds it at the goat’s throat.
“You decided to burn down The Doom Factory.”
He cuts across the bleating goats throat, pouring blood onto the symbol. Red smoke plumes into the air as it lands.
“You decided to leave Six Feet Under.”
More smoke.
“And now you find yourself in an awkward position that need not be so. Now you find yourself between a rock and a hard place. You find yourself between the devil and the dirt… you’re understandably afraid.
I get it. I understand, little owl. But when standing beside or between the devil, there’s no place you should rather be.
The devil doesn’t count your mistakes. He doesn’t hold them over you. He doesn’t want you to fear him, just love him. Doom isn’t the Devil, he’s far worse than the myth of his tyranny. He’s doesn’t want your love; he wants your fear. He wants you to be afraid, to be terrified, yet you seem to think your option is the devil or the dirt. It isn’t.”
Malakai begins bathing himself in the blood, attempting to commune his soul with the devil itself.
“You think of us as the devil. You think of us as the purest form of evil, but we’re misunderstood. Our dark lord loves us. He supports us. He cherishes our love in return and you’ve walked away from him. You’ve walked away from the devil and now you’re heading towards the dirt.
It doesn’t have to be this way, Maxwell. Come home. Let him in. Let him bathe you in his glory and love.
Come on, little owl. It’ll be a hoot.”
He smiles, blood covering his face.
“Because your options are the devil… or the dark brown dirt”
It’s not the rock and the hard place you think it is.”