Cuphead - The Call of Retribution

Old Scratch to the Rescue

The melody of the rushing waters disappear from earshot as the ruler of hell floats through the wide corridors of the caverns, eyes darting at the light getting bigger and brighter the more he approaches it. The light of the outside cleanses his body in white before it shimmers down.

Everything around him is filled with luscious greenery. A dome of grass, plants, and trees, masking the outside world. There is not sign of animals or insects to be had to replace the silence around it, but birds can barely be heard in the wind.

The demon honestly thought that there was all there is to this area: lonesome nature. But, he rectified that notion the moment the spotted a wide building of wooden structure and huge tree, sticking out of one end. If he had to guess how long it must be, it would have to be about thirty feet or under.

He approaches the building, shuffling past the spiky blades of green with each step. As he gets closer, watching the size of the wooden house grow bigger, a sudden change in the sensation under his feet is felt when he took his next step. A texture of bumps that can only be described as hard and uncomfortable for someone not wearing shoes. But he chooses to ignore it.

No windows are present to even bring in a little sunlight or a breath of fresh air with some small cracks to compensate for it.

As he steps into the premises, he stands in astonishment. The interior is not at all what he had imagined, excluding the humongous trunk, piercing through the ceiling. It's like a ghost town. There are no traces of decor. The rugged floor lacks any smoothness, like the floorboard of a house. Made of stone, yet there is only a small-scale of grass in a few cracks.

The only piece of furniture to be found in the room is a small beige chair, worn out and beyond repair. A rusty crowbar lays on the middle of the cushion. Both tips are in the air, yet one of them is moist with some blue liquid, dripping onto the spec of grass under it.

From across the room from the twin doors is a line of concrete poles. It feels somewhat abnormal for a building made out of bark to be held by another construct. Subsequently, a singular pole in the middle of the row catches his attention. A person giving it a backwards hug. His suit is slightly dirty, and his ankles are bound with tight rope.

No, it's not just any person... His palm looses grip of his pitchfork, dropping it onto the ground. The deity's crimson pupils sparkle in great jubilation to see his cube-shaped head, perking up at the surprising noise, only for him to gape in the same fashion, eyes bright with the same colors as nature itself.

The Devil finally found him! He found King Dice! No words can describe just how emotional he is to see his lackey, alive and well. The waterworks are starting to come in.

Suddenly, Dice's expression changes from happiness to a shape of fear.

"Behind you!" He cried out.

Before he could react, something hard slams against his jaw, knocking the Devil onto the rocky ground underneath him. His forehead against the surface, sinking the deity into a pit of overwhelming pain and darkness. As his mind begins to succumb to him, ringing in a blaring hum, he can only hear a faint cry before the silence kicks in.

"Luci!"

—

Consciousness reawakens inside his brain as his peepers try to adjust to the shift in the area, staring at the other side of the room. The Devil blinks a few times to get rid of the blurriness in his vision.

"Did you enjoy your beauty nap?"

An unfamiliar voice, yet one that the morning star is able to decipher to the point where it shakes him back into reality. His head takes a sharp turn, teeth barring at the sight of his adversary. He finally meets the man with the plan for the first time, and with the crowbar in his hand, too. In the Devil's eyes, he is just as ugly-looking on the outside than he is on the inside, just like Paulina.