At Guy and Maryanne's house the next morning, they sat
watching TV. Guy opened the car door as Maryanne followed, climbing in. He
started the engine.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this,
Maryanne?"
"Yeah, handsome. I've been needing to know where this
is going. Thanks for opening up after all these years—you made me feel
special."
Guy smiled. "It's my pleasure, love. Seeing you smile
is all that matters."
Meanwhile, in Roman and Minnie's Tarot Shop, Minnie's voice
cut through the haze. "Roman! Do you still have the Penance Engine?"
"The Penance Engine, a relic passed down from
Roman's parents, held limited power until fully activated; it could twist
reality, vanish, and reappear — its power reacting to people's emotions, often
without their consent."
Roman muttered, tossing aside scraps and clutter. "I'm
here! Just give me a sec."
"ROMAN, ANSWER ME!"
Finally, the last box yielded a metallic hum. Roman lifted
the lid. "Ah… there it is. A masterpiece. Power of the damned, right in my
hands."
"I swear, don't lose it again!" Minnie called,
rolling her eyes. "You'd misplace your head if it weren't
attached."
Roman grinned. "Is that your way of complimenting me?
Haven't heard one since we got married. What's got you so perked up,
Minnie?"
"Oh, nothing much," she called, arranging relics.
"Maybe I'm finally seeing the man I married for what he is."
They chuckled, half-disgust, half-amusement. Minnie
straightened the last crooked painting; Roman found his real Tarot deck in the
scraps. "Both thought, Time to open."
Minnie flipped the sign and unlocked the door. Outside,
Maryanne heard faint wet echoes from the car—like water seeping through the
creases. She and Guy arrived as the car door swung open.
Ugh. "They're not even open today!" Maryanne said,
eyes searching for truth.
"Don't give up, sweetie. Let's do this the
old-fashioned way," Guy suggested, knocking loudly. A gust slammed the
door wide open.
Minnie emerged from the shadows. "Didn't expect you
back, Maryanne." She brushed Maryanne's womb.
Maryanne shoved her hand away, scowling.
"Fine, be that way," Minnie muttered.
"Enough," Guy interjected. "We didn't come to
fight."
Roman stumbled out, a smoky haze clinging. "What's with
all the commotion? Sounds like a bar fight."
"Something about personal space," Guy said,
nodding at the wives. "And Roman…"
"What now?" Roman buttoned his shirt,
defeated.
"Your wife gives me the creeps."
Minnie hissed, storming inside. Roman muttered
sarcastically, "Thanks, Guy."
He welcomed them in: "Come in, sorry for the
mess." Whispered to himself: Doghouse…
At the card table, Maryanne and Guy heard Minnie's muffled
sobs.
"You should've been gentler," Maryanne said.
"She's misunderstood."
"Misunderstood? Basket case, more like."
"That doesn't justify cruelty. Everyone has
problems."
"Seems like she's making them our problem," Guy
said.
Roman appeared from the curtain behind the table. "Back
for another reading? That child of yours is nearly ready to meet the
world."
"Nine months today… thanks?" Maryanne
replied.
"Just show the cards, bro. Your wife and this shop—bad
news central," Guy said.
Roman shuffled, sweat on his clammy hands. On the second
shuffle, Minnie burst through the drapes, fuming.
"How dare you call me creepy! One day you'll pay in
blood!" She slammed the table; cards scattered like broken omens. The
Penance Engine twisted reality to her fury. Air inverted, pressing against
Maryanne's chest. Lungs rebelled; her body betrayed her as if anatomy was
reversed... Time bent. Reality shifted shadows sharpened... Lungs
collapsing.
Maryanne gasped. Wails of damned souls threaded through her
ears.
Then, The Crowned-Deep hissed, serpentine, and
deep:
"Guy… seal the pact. Immortality awaits. The Engine wants your children's
innocence."
Maryanne gripped her cross; jagged edges bit her palm. She
saw herself, her unborn babies, and Guy dragged into the ocean's black depths.
Their hands locked, but the current tugged.
A shark circled, teeth glinting like broken promises. Guy's
grip faltered—her hands, and the hands of his unborn, slipping through the
current.
"Guy has chosen," the voice purred. "What
will you do, Maryanne?"
The Engine throbbed; reality thinned where pride and fear
intersected. Maryanne was adrift, temptation sharp, the loss of control almost
complete.
The Crowned-Deep: Ruler of the Abyss
In the quiet gaps between heartbeats, where reality frays, the
Crowned-Deep reigns—not a singular entity, but a vast, controlling mind cloaked
in corrupted moonlight, stitched together from lost souls. Every move is
calculated.
Then the ocean released her. The veil of reality returned to
normal.
Maryanne awoke, a strange bruise on her hand where Guy had
held her. Her head throbbed. Guy still asleep beside her. Roman stood over the
wrecked Tarot table, eyes wide.
"You're finally awake. That looked like it
hurt."
"It's been hours… Guy's still out," Roman
continued.
Guy woke abruptly.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Time to join the
living," Roman said.
"What happened?" Guy rubbed his temple.
"Minnie overthrew the table; heavy books knocked you
and Maryanne out for a while," Roman explained.
"Dang… why does it hurt so much?"
"My forehead's throbbing," Maryanne agreed.
"Let's get out of here," she suggested. "Too
much creepiness for one day. No offense, Roman."
Guy grabbed his leather jacket, ready to leave.