Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 116

"How are you feeling today?" asked Mike.

"A bit restless is all." Cyrus had been feeling a bit down the last month, which bothered him. Ever since being allowed inside of Mike Radley's home, he had become a part of the family in a lot of ways. Cecilia and Sulyvahn had warmed to him almost immediately, and Reggie had been thrilled to have a new chess player in the house. Dana had been oddly absent, but she spent almost all of her time in that strange observatory of hers. Cyrus kept thinking he would drop by for a visit, but just never seemed to find the time. The days and nights were often a blur, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Ah, there you two are." Death came out of the house with a tray of tea. The Reaper walked along the porch and down to the gazebo, a wooden cup in his hands. "I have just gotten back from my latest surf lesson with the mermaids."

"How did it go?" asked Cyrus.

"Swimmingly." Death let his jaw hang open in a parody of laughter. Mike reached over to fist bump the Reaper.

"I don't know who's worse." Cyrus shook his head in disgust. "What are you drinking?"

"Poi." Death sipped at the concoction. "Pele made it herself."

"You've been hanging out with Pele?" Mike raised an eyebrow. "I haven't seen her in a few days. Where has she been?"

"Rebuilding Maui from the inside. Ever since it erupted, she's had to redo the magma chambers beneath the islands. This would have been a lot more difficult, but ever since the Maui Incident, she has more believers than ever."

"We don't talk about the Maui Incident," said both Mike and Cyrus at the same time. In truth, the Maui Incident was often discussed, but it was part of some inside joke Cyrus didn't have all the details on.

Death chuckled, then held out his cup. "Would you like to try some?"

"No thanks." Cyrus patted his belly, which pressed against the inside of his coat. The soft fabric rustled like leaves. "I'm still full from breakfast."

"I see." Death looked over at Mike. "Poi?"

"Sure." Mike took a sip from the cup. "Hey, that's pretty good."

"Of course it is. Why would I ever..." Death trailed off as the front door of the house opened and an Arachne emerged. Cyrus felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as a distance created by decades crumbled to dust. The mirror image of Ana Rae, the Arachne he had once hunted, stepped through the doorway, ducking her head to avoid the frame. Mike and Death watched her walk to the gazebo, holding Grace's hand. When the two of them arrived, Grace broke away from the larger Arachne and patted the arm of Cyrus' seat.

"Papa Cyrus," she said, then snagged a hotdog off the table and shoved it in her mouth, smearing ketchup across her face.

"I see." The Arachne cleared her throat, then did a strange sort of curtsy. "It's nice to meet you, Master Cyrus."

"Eulalie." Cyrus recognized her voice right away, his heart pounding. "The Rat Queen."

There was an awkward pause, which Eulalie followed up with a nod. "I just wanted to say, um...I know that it was you who hunted my parents."

"Yes, it was." Cyrus sat forward in his chair, his thoughts drifting. "It's not something that I'm particularly proud of."

Eulalie looked at Mike, then Death. The Reaper looked confused for a moment, then looked over his shoulder.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

"No, sorry, this is just...weird." Eulalie cleared her thoughts and turned her attention back to Cyrus. He noticed that she didn't quite look him in the eye. "You can probably guess the reason why I never revealed myself to you. Obviously this is...complicated." She indicated her body with a hand. "And I'm sorry I didn't come visit you sooner."

Cyrus chuckled, scratching at his beard nervously. "Yeah, well, I didn't make it easy for you, did I?"

Again, an awkward pause, then Eulalie bowed her head. "I know this might not mean anything, but..." She cleared her throat a couple of times, and then Mike put his hand on her arm. When she looked up at him, he nodded and took her by the hand.

"Am I missing something?" Cyrus was confused.

"I forgive you. If my parents were here, they would forgive you, too. You tried to kill them, but it was a long time ago. Because of you, my family gets to live on, I..." Eulalie turned her attention to Grace, who had grabbed another hotdog and was eating it. Callisto tried to come outside, but a green hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him back in.

"Aunt Tink," he whined as the door shut.

"Anyway, Grace is all I have left. I mean, yeah, everyone here is nice, too, but Grace and I, we're the last of our kind. I know that would have meant something to them is all. My parents, I mean. And my sister. Uh..." Eulalie looked at Cyrus' feet. "So...I just wanted to make sure you heard that. I hope it brings you closure."

"Thank you, Eulalie." Cyrus took a deep breath and sighed, his body suddenly light. It was as if a massive weight had been lifted free, but he couldn't be certain why. "I hope that we get the opportunity to speak more often."

Eulalie didn't respond at first, then nodded her head. "Yes," she said. "That would be great. I, um, have to get back to work."

"Rat Queen duties?" asked Cyrus.

Eulalie didn't respond as she hustled away. The door opened and Callisto bolted outside, making it to the gazebo in time to snatch a third hotdog from Grace's hands.

"I knew it," he said, turning his back on his sister. Grace tried to reach past him and steal his food. "You were going to eat them all without me!"

"That was...odd." Cyrus looked at Mike. "Is she always like that?"

"A bit." Mike looked at Death. "What do you think?"

The Grim Reaper seemed lost in thought. Grace grabbed the poi cup out of his hands and tried to drink from it, her upper lip now stained the color of taro. When Callisto saw this, he begged her for a taste, but the little Arachne scuttled up the side of the gazebo and now stood upside down above her brother. Cyrus laughed at their antics.

The front door opened and Tink waddled out. The goblin was so swollen with pregnancy that it absolutely seemed like her belly arrived before she did. She made a hissing sound in the back of her throat, and Grace immediately dropped down from the ceiling and landed in a crouch. The Arachne offered the poi cup to Callisto, who made a face after drinking from it.

"Bleh, I don't like the texture." Callisto smacked his lips, then handed the cup back to Death.

"The texture is why I like it." Death cradled the cup in his hand and watched while Tink washed off Grace's face with a rag she pulled from her pocket. "A drink you can chew is its own novelty."

Cyrus smiled at the sight of Tink cleaning the Arachne, of Callisto sneaking another hotdog off the tray, how Mike looked down at his goblin wife and children with a smile that ran deeper than the ocean. When Tink looked away from Grace, the Arachne slid beneath Death's robes, vanishing from sight, but not before grabbing the last hotdog off the table. Mike Radley's family was a large, confusing mess and Cyrus got to experience every part of it.

This summer had been chock full of adventures with the Radley children. They had gone on expeditions in the greenhouse, a late night snack run that had somehow taken him to an underground labyrinth under the house, and even a trip to a pocket world with a tower on top of an island.

When he wasn't with the children, he was usually with Mike, Death, or Jenny. Ever since that night in the facility, Cyrus had been able to see Jenny's true form whenever she was about. From what he heard, her soul had been properly detached from her doll, allowing her to roam free without having to possess someone else's body. Based on a lengthy conversation with Death, Cecilia, and Sulyvahn, the consensus was that Jenny still had unfinished business. Somehow, either the witch Elizabeth hadn't died, or there was a tie with her offspring, Laurel.

No, not Laurel. Sarah. It was hard for him to accept that the troublesome mage had simply become host to another person. Mike believed that Laurel had died properly, which was some solace. Still, a life cut off so early was always a shame.

Tink was now crouched beneath Death, wrestling with a trio of legs as she tried to pull Grace free.

"Stinky baby legs needs bath!" she declared. One of her braids had come undone, revealing long strands of gray that Cyrus had never noticed before.

"No bath!" The edges of Death's cloak billowed upward, revealing that Grace clung to the Reaper's bony legs. Her face was covered in ketchup and mustard, and there was hotdog bun bits in her hair.

"Hey!" Tink kicked Death in the shin. "Bonehead do this on purpose, be like ghost!"

"Who, me?" Death surveyed the scene beneath him and then sighed. "Very well."

The Grim Reaper went incorporeal, causing Grace to pass through him. The Arachne gasped and grabbed at the floorboards, successfully peeling one of them up.

"Nooooo!" she wailed, then let go of the floor to grab the railing. "No bath!"

Cyrus laughed. It started deep in his belly and spread, filling the gazebo and causing the others to stop and look at him. He couldn't help himself, and he cried tears of joy when the goblin shrieked in horror as the planking ripped free of the ground.

It felt good here. It felt good to be home.

A mournful song pierced the air and everybody went still, then turned toward the front of the house. Mike made a face and put his hand on Tink's shoulder.

"No bath yet," he said, then gave the goblin a knowing look.

Tink looked at Grace, then back at Mike and nodded. She stepped back and held out her arms for the little Arachne, who hopped into them. Callisto moved to his father's side and clutched his hand.

"What's wrong?" asked Cyrus as he sat up in his seat. "What's that sound?"

"It is a song that is sung when one's business is done." Death set down his poi cup and looked at Mike. "It is time."

"Time for what?' Confused, Cyrus stood and watched as Cecilia appeared, her hair billowing behind her in a breeze that only she could feel. The banshee locked eyes with him, her sightless gaze taking him in as she sang. He didn't know the words to the song, but was chilled when he realized she was singing for him. Panic rose in his chest, and he took a step back and knocked the chair he had been sitting in away from him.

"Cecilia, please." Mike held up a hand and the banshee went silent. "We need a minute. Can you get the others?"

The banshee nodded, then vanished from sight.

"What's happening?" asked Cyrus, his heart pounding.

"Walk with me, friend." Mike looked at Grace, who was staring at Cecilia with rapt fascination. "Come on, kid. We're going on a hike."

"I would like to come as well." Death set down his poi cup. "Lead the way, Mike Radley."

They walked together, but Cyrus felt like the inside of his skin was itching. What was going on? Why had the banshee sung for him? He wasn't dying! He felt fine!

"I demand to know what's going on." Cyrus lifted his chin indignantly as he walked beside the others. They had formed into a line and were walking around the side of the house. The centaurs who toiled in the front yard were suddenly active, galloping toward a couple of portals that took them back to their village.

"It'll all make sense soon enough. There's something we need to show you." They were walking toward the greenhouse now, the door being held open by Abella. Cyrus had never had a chance to talk with her, but had seen her watching the house from above many times.

"Good luck," she whispered, then bowed her head as they passed.

They paused at the top of the cliffs for just a minute. Tink whispered something in Mike's ears and then smacked him on the butt before going back to the house. The group walked down one of the paths, Mike mysteriously quiet for most of it. Death seemed very solemn as well. Cyrus tried to press them for answers, the incident with the banshee already fading toward the back of his mind as if it had never happened.

Callisto walked next to Cyrus, a determined look on his face. Grace took up a position on the other side, but stopped at least twice to snatch up a bug and eat it.

He lost track of time and then came to when they stopped in front of a small garden by the edge of the centaur village. It was surrounded by a low, wrought-iron fence and contained dozens of species of flowers. In the center was a gray, marble obelisk roughly four feet tall.

"What is this?" he asked, looking to Mike for answers. "And why did we walk all this way? We could have taken the shortcut from the front yard."

"We could have," Mike admitted. "But I wanted to give the others a chance to get here first and say goodbye."

Cyrus turned to see that most of the denizens of the Radley home stood behind them, their eyes fixed on the strange obelisk. Jenny hovered behind them, her head rotating so that her face was upside down. Ratu stood next to Beth, who was in front of Asterion. Bigfoot was there, too, though Cyrus had never spoken to the guy. In front of them all, Zel stood with her hands tightly clasped before her. Cecilia and Sulyvahn stood on both sides of her, their heads bowed.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Cyrus shook his head in disbelief. "This isn't funny, Mike."

"It never has been." There was pain in Mike's eyes as he leaned over the fence and flicked his fingers at the obelisk. The smooth surface of the obelisk rippled to reveal dark words carved into the marble, hidden by an illusion spell.

Papa Cyrus

Beneath it was the year of his birth followed by the current year. Cyrus staggered back, his hand going to his chest.

"This is a dream," he said. "No, a nightmare."

A firm hand closed around his, and he looked up to see Lily. There was anger in her eyes, along with sadness.

"This isn't a dream," she said. "Not this time."

"But...why? How?"

"It happened the night you rescued my children." Mike stared ahead, his jaw set in determination. "I didn't realize it at first, but I did before we left the forest. You were killed while protecting Grace."

"That's simply not possible. If I was dead, that would make me a spirit, a ghost!" Cyrus looked at Lily. "You can see me!"

"I'm a succubus. Of course I can see you." Lily didn't even roll her eyes at him when she said that. This scared him more than anything else.

"But you, Mike, you can...what about..." Cyrus turned to Death, then Reggie. He started to hyperventilate as the memories of the last few months came back to him. It was weird that Dana hadn't spoken with him once, and the others had seemed evasive, but it hadn't bothered him in the slightest. He had been happy enough just feeling accepted.

"The children!" He looked down at Grace, then over to Callisto. "If I'm dead, how can they see me?"

"When my son was little, he was terrified of me." Mike smiled weakly at his son. "We thought it was because I was a human and that he was scared of what was different. Later on, we figured out that he was scared because he can see souls. Mine is apparently very intimidating."

Callisto nodded, then looked at Cyrus. "He's shiny in all the wrong places."

"No, this can't be, I..." Cyrus looked at the obelisk and clutched the collar of his coat. It suddenly occurred to him that his coat had been burned up in the fight with Laurel. If so, where had this one come from? He studied the material in awe, hoping it would reveal its secrets.

"Steady, friend." A bony hand settled on Cyrus' shoulder. "Acceptance is the final stage of grief."

"But I've been here this whole time, I..." Cyrus looked at the others, then down at his own hands. Had he been here this whole time? Ever since he had come home with Mike, he had never left the house. It only now occurred to him that he couldn't remember which room was his, or sitting down for a proper meal. There were huge gaps in his memory that didn't make sense, gaps that only now had come to light.

"Oh, gods." Cyrus stared at the others. "They can't even see me, can they?"

"I can see you." Jenny laughed and then started messing with Zel's hair. The centaur didn't react. "Because you're like me, silly."

"Most of them can't." Mike looked over at Grace. "She couldn't hear you for the first month or so, but she learned."

"Why do this, then? Why keep it a secret from me?"

"Because Jenny said we should." Mike looked at the hovering specter. "You probably would have found out at some point. The reason you remained behind was because you had unfinished business. Cecilia and Suly both agreed that due to your traumatic death, there was a chance you may become a tormented soul if you found out before that business was resolved. So we agreed as a family to do our best to help you finish it."

"I didn't have unfinished business though, I...I..." Cyrus thought back to the strange conversation with Eulalie. She had given him the forgiveness he had long wanted but never had the courage to ask for. Mike had given him a proper family, a place where he could feel happy.

Somebody sniffled. Cyrus turned to see that it was Lily. Was the succubus actually crying because of him?

"You deserve your rest, Master Cyrus." Death gestured at the people gathered. "It's not often you get a chance to attend your own funeral and say goodbye to your family and friends."

Cyrus wanted to be angry, to lash out. The impulse rose within him, threatening to devour him from within, but the bitter desire melted away as his eyes settled on the children, both of them watching him with glistening eyes. That strange sensation of light filled him once more, and he recognized it for what it actually was.

Love. He had found people he loved who loved him in return.

"You were this close just now, magic man." Jenny pinched her fingers together and giggled. "There isn't room for two angry spirits in this home. We would have had a fight."

"I...suppose there isn't." Cyrus shook his head and looked at the obelisk. "I'm under there, aren't I?"

"You are not." Death's eye lights burned brightly. "We could not find your body after the fire. This is not your tomb, Master Cyrus, but rather your memorial."

"I wanted it put here," said Zel, clearly reacting to Death's words. "So that my people could see it every day. So that I could see it every day, and be reminded of the man who saved my son."

"This ghost business still doesn't make much sense, then, does it? Even if I had unfinished business, my body isn't nearby. If I burned up completely, I doubt one of my belongings is under there. Therefore, there would be nothing left for my spirit to latch onto. How could I even manifest here, hmm?" It was one final denial, spoken in desperation. The darkness called to Cyrus, coaxing him to lash out.

Mike cleared his throat and gestured at Grace. "Show him."

Grace grinned up at Cyrus, showing him all of her teeth. She pulled the dogtags from inside her dress and held them up proudly. "Papa Cyrus," she declared.

"Flip them over," Mike whispered.

The Arachne obeyed, the dogtags sparkling beneath the light of the sun. On the back of one of the tags was a single, bloody fingerprint that had been sealed in place with a layer of clear nail polish. "Papa Cyrus," she repeated, pointing at the print.

"Oh." It was all he could say, all the pieces falling into place. His last link to this world was a bit of blood left behind. "I see."

"It's why she has stopped taking baths," Death declared. "She is afraid that you would wash away, somehow." The Reaper narrowed his sockets at Grace. "Or so she claims."

Cyrus chuckled, then wiped away a tear of his own. He contemplated the droplet on his finger and watched it vanish. After all, it wasn't really there. Shaking his head, he knelt down and patted Grace on the head.