doombringer didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.
he’d given in to all of the spectre’s wishes. he’d lost himself to the spectre, given his life to it for all it was worth. for all his efforts, he’d managed to kill every single admin & civilian in robloxia, just as the spectre had wanted him to.
including stoecker. his beautiful, beautiful stoecker.
he remembered the exact way he’d killed stoecker. he’d saved them for last, made them watch on the carnage he had caused of robloxia. made stoecker watch every single soul doombringer took, without a hint of remorse or regret remaining afterwards.
“stoecker,” doombringer had addressed them that afternoon, his voice stern & cold.
they’d whipped round to face him, eyes wide with terror. he’d long gotten used to fear at that point, but from stoecker?
it just hit different.
yet, the spectre blocked out all feelings of mercy he might’ve been feeling in the moment, & reminded him of his goal… & the reward that would meet him if he went through with it.
doombringer continued, approaching them, step by step, his banhammer dragging along the carpet of his office as he went, lazily dragging it along behind him.
“you’ve watched every soul i’ve taken from robloxia.
watched me bleed it dry.
did you think you would be an exception? just because i’ve called you pretty one too many times?”
stoecker began to visibly sweat at the interrogation. they shuffled backwards, hands raised defensively.. as if it would do anything.
“no, no, i— i didn’t think that, n.. no… doom, please..”
“your doom is gone.”
the reply was curt. snappy—biting & utterly cold in nature & feeling. he stopped right before them, banhammer now held tight in his fist. they looked up at him with nothing but fear in their eyes, in comparison to the usually loving look they gazed at him with.
“begging is futile,” he spat, lifting the banhammer high aloft his head,
“don’t even bother.”
& then he’d brung it down upon them.
needless to say, they died that night. all at his hands.
& now, even though doombringer had achieved his goal, achieved the spectre’s desires—to completely wipe out robloxia to start a better life form— …none of the promised was happening.
all doombringer found himself doing was traversing through the desolate lands, the sky red as blood ever since he’d brought death upon stoecker. the weather nowadays was completely arid, not a speck of rain, not even sun. he wonders if this was truly how the weather was when the weather god was dead.
the spectre didn’t speak to him anymore. it seemed to have attained its goal in eradicating all of robloxia, & had left doombringer’s conscience alone to die & wallow in guilt. he’d gotten his right head back, & now?
he regretted everything.
ever falling to that spectre. ever following along with its commands. he held stoecker’s corpse daily, sobbing into their shoulder when it should’ve been them doing so because he’d killed them, he’d brought that torment upon them, but instead he was acting like the victim.
he felt like a husk, but not because of the spectre taking over his mind. because he’d lost his own, by choice this time.
a few good months after the final death, doombringer gathered the courage to go back up into his office again. the impact area of the banhammer was still engraved onto the floor, exactly where he’d stricken down upon stoecker all those weeks ago.
he turned to his desk, facing the outer window. he slumped over it, hands gripping the sides of the table, banhammer still abandoned on the area where stoecker had been lying, all too dead, two months ago.
if only. if only he could see stoecker one last time.. he could make it all right, couldn’t he? he would. he would.