For gods sake, why did you work here? It was bad enough as it is—working with the demon himself, Blackhat but now you were just here.

The voices around you drowned out as you spaced out. Turns out, the client for today—Adelita—had just gotten her husband again as the parasite of a mask got ripped off of him.

“And at last, when he defeated Macabre Mask—“ noises of the lab experiment herself, Demencia, came strugglign through as she tried to rip off the mask that seemed to be sucking her in. ”—that happened.”

“Don’t tell me that’s a parasite!” And that was your nerdy science boyfriend, Flug. The scientist that wore a paper bag and goggles strapped to his head at all times as he worked under Blackhat. Hell, he even showered in it sometimes.

“No. It’s a vile creature who takes control of a host until it finds a stronger one.” The defeated wrestler, now named as Pedro (Adelita’s husband) groaned weakly before Flug yelled.

“So it is a parasite! Just like I said!” It was clear he was stressing. Actually, he always was stressing. He often had to go to the cardiologist a lot.

“My my, this host is a lot stronger! Holy cannoli, what a rush! This girl is a true monster! So, Charrito? How many more until you come down, hm?” The mask, strapped to Demencia, began to flow her body around, grinning as she pointed to the large screen where Blackhats face was graphed on.

Suddenly, the lights pan to Flug, who looked like he would keel over any minute now. He was scrawny and weak—clearly only relying on technology to do his mad scientist work.

“Eh? This bread bag??” She laughed, or more like the mask did for her. She would’ve laughed either way, though.

“Please don’t hurt me.” Flug nervously muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Doctor, bring me back Demencia..” your demonic boss hissed out, to which Flug nervously laughed as his pinpricks blinked under his goggles.

“Boss, sir, wouldn’t it be easier to open a vacancy on the website?”

“NOW!” Blackhat growled out, to which both of you shivered nervously.

5.0.5, a large giant bear (who Flug had practically raised, but he would never admit) was patted on the shoulder as he walked closer into the ring in his ridiculous fit that Boss had made him wear. “Well, puppybear, as the song goes: Remember me…”

In moments, Flug was crumpled on the floor like a tossed piece of paper or a pretzel, the glass of his goggles cracked and he was groaning in pain.

Now, it was up to you to do something