Intermission: Freak Like Me Pt.2

Hughie huffed out a staggering false breath of relief, slapping his chest as he tried to cool himself down. “Fucking strewth, that was bloody intense, right? I mean WOOOOOOWEEEE, now we can talk like civilized men-”

Epona’s shadow came screaming down upon him. The sharp point of her elbow crashed down into the beak of his mask, meaning to pulverize his skull. If not for the rush of adrenaline, his own arm wouldn’t have been raised to block the attack… nor would his free hand have slashed at the Savage Beauty’s side.

The force was tremendous, so much so that Hughie tumbled back and would have hurtled off into the trees if a shoulder of cruel silver didn’t catch him. Remhilde heaved him back down to his feet, grunting as the two of them tried to recover.

Epona skipped around like a fairy, chanting, dancing and laughing… as a portion of her small intestine whipped around like loose wet rope. Her rambling was little more than a churning mess of cracked-out Irish babble. Even so, Hughie began to discern her words: “HE’S SO STRONG WE GET TO KILL HIM - PEEL HIM - CUT HIM- SQUEEZE HIM - HE’S SO STRONG!!!”

Her head fell limp but she never stopped dancing; those burning crimson eyes locked on Hughie, bereft of all emotion despite her face which laughed like a pale shark.

“Stop shaking and get up!” Hilde demanded, pulling his terrified self up on unsteady feet. “Listen to me, Huginn. Listen to me! I am struggling to stand so you’ll have to take this one. Quit looking like a lost puppy. Artorias is nearby; the stink of Old Spice draws nearer. For God’s sake, would you man the fuck up? I already told you, stop pretending-”

“No. No pretending, not this time, Rabbit.” Hughie’s voice became solemn and oddly stern. “I had hoped never to have to do this again… ah well, all of our time runs out… eventually.” From his pocket he removed his silver watch, contemplating its engraved face as Epona dripped with inhuman hunger.

“You better get over here, Bestie, I’m dying for a craic. I don’t think I can wait much longeerrrr!” Epona yowled.

Remhilde gazed upon him with a furtive curiosity and an apparent dread. “That… watch is it…?”

“I never wanted to think so, but… yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. Moonie tried to pretend it wasn’t. Everyone did, but nobody is that good at lying to me. You just kick back and take it easy, Auntie Hilde. Shit - I can never think of anything cool to say at moments like this.”

All of his life, he’d fought against it, the ticking… but now, if they stood any chance of survival, he’d have to let go. Moonie would kill him if he made it through this. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to go so hard immediately…?

“Alright then, poison ivy, let’s get funky!” Hughie cried, slipping the silver watch into the crook of his palm.

At first, nothing happened. The woods remained still; the bloodied grass shifted beneath the gentle night wind, Epona’s intestines still dangled from her opened side as she watched him with that huge white smile. Hughie frowned beneath his mask, peering down at the watch, giving it a little shake. “Come on, you old piece of shite, don’t make me look stupid now…”

Tick.

His head twitched. Tick-Tock. Something tightened behind his grey eyes. Epona moved. Hughie barely saw her feet leave the earth; there was only the sudden quake of the soil and that golden mane exploding towards him in a blur. Her talons came first, each four-inch claw meaning to peel the face straight off his skull. But he already knew.

Her right foot twisted before she leapt; her shoulder lowered; her eyes had flashed at his throat half a second before the attack came. Hughie ducked, Epona’s claws screaming over the top of his mask as the Raven bent damn near backwards before kicking upwards with both feet.

His heel caught Moore beneath the jaw. CRACK. Her teeth clamped together so hard that something pink and wet shot from between them. Epona flew backwards, twisting in the air with a violent spray of blood before sinking her talons into the bark of a thick oak, clinging sideways to its trunk like some great blonde spider.

Hughie stared. Epona stared back. Something plopped down into the grass between them. The tip of her tongue. She looked down at it, then up at him. Her smile became wet and enormous. “Ooooooooohhhhhhh.”

Hughie slowly lifted a finger. “See, that response right there? Very concerning.”

“DO THAT AGAIN!” Epona screamed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” The entire tree groaned. Hughie’s eyes widened as Epona planted her feet into the bark, curling those painted arms around the enormous trunk. Roots began to crack beneath the soil, snapping and tearing free in great wet tendrils as the tree tilted. “Don’t you fucking dare…” With a ferocious wrench, Epona ripped the entire oak from the ground. “OF COURSE YOU FUCKING DID!”

Like some malformed club, the great tree swung through the clearing. Hughie’s mind raced, his eyes twitching beneath the crimson lenses of his mask as the watch sang in his hand. Tick. Her left hip twisted. Tick. Her grip tightened. Tick. It was far too wide.

He vanished beneath it. The oak howled over his head, smashing through two smaller trees and spraying the clearing in splinters.

Epona did not even have time to turn before Huginn appeared at her wounded side. “This bit looks nice and soft.” His talons sank deep into the gaping wound he had opened before. Epona jolted and Hughie tore down, the Savage Beauty’s stomach opening from her ribs to her hip, blood spilling in a thick black-red flood as loops of intestine fell out into his hands. “Oh God, somebody toucha my SPEGHETT!”

Epona headbutted him. The beak of his mask shattered, the entire world becoming a flash of silver and green as his nose collapsed beneath the wood. Before he could regain himself, one of her hands buried itself in his blonde hair. “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“What are you doINGAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Epona spun, Hughie becoming little more than a ragdoll in her grasp, his limbs flailing as the night became a whirl of moonlight and trees. She let go. He shot through the woods. One tree exploded as his back tore clean through it. A second did not. His body folded around the thick oak with a hideous crunch, a branch bursting through the soft meat of his lower stomach and punching out beside his spine.

Hughie hung there, blinking, his hands slowly reaching down to the bloody wood jutting from his stomach. “...Well.”

Epona skipped towards him. “That looked sore!”

“Yeah, well spotted, Sherlock.”

She crouched. Hughie’s grey eyes widened, the watch clicking in his hand. Tick. Her foot pushed deeper into the soil. Tick. Her shoulders lowered. Tick. The Head. Hughie ripped himself free. The branch dragged through his insides, tearing flesh and pulling a scream from his throat as blood exploded down his legs, but Epona’s descending claws missed him entirely, shredding through the tree where his skull had been. He reappeared several feet away and nearly collapsed, his hand covering the hole in his belly as cold blood poured over his knuckles and his vision pulsed. “Okay... okay that one was fucking mean.”

Epona was gone. Hughie straightened. The grove had fallen silent again, his eyes dragging across every tree, every shadow, every root. Nothing. A giggle sounded somewhere to his left and he spun. Nothing. “Bestieeeeeeee.”

“Oh, don’t start that.” A bush moved. Hughie’s talons flashed towards it, but a rabbit burst out and disappeared through the grass. He paused. “Not the one I was hoping for.” Something wrapped around his ankle. Hughie looked down. A thick root had curled around his leg. “What the fu-”

The ground exploded. Epona burst from beneath the torn soil with a banshee scream, her claws ripping across Hughie’s chest. Four great trenches opened from his shoulder to his waist, pale ribs gleaming beneath the shredded meat. Hughie screamed and his elbow answered, smashing into the side of Epona’s head and ripping half her ear away. She laughed. His next strike crushed into her throat, the laugh becoming a whistling rasp, but his third blow never came. Epona snatched his arm. Hughie’s face fell. “Oh no.”

She twisted. Crack-crack-crack-crack. His forearm broke in four different places. “FUCK!”

Her bare heel stamped into his chest and launched him away.

Hughie was caught before he struck the earth. Remhilde’s silver shoulder slammed into his back as she snatched his hoodie, her boots carving deep trenches in the dirt as she struggled to kill the momentum. Her knees nearly gave out and a violent cough escaped her. Hughie heard something wet splash against the inside of her gauntlet. “Rabbit?”

“Stand... up.”

“You look like you’re about to fucking die.”

“So do you.”

“Fair enough.”

Epona came shrieking through the dark. Remhilde shoved Hughie aside and raised both arms, silver talons meeting Epona’s claws as the impact cracked across the clearing. Hilde’s body shook, her face going pale as Epona’s smile widened. “CHEATER!” Remhilde spat blood at her feet. “Eat shit.”

The Rabbit slashed. Silver tore from Epona’s chin, right through her cheek and across one glowing eye. The Moore screamed, smoke sizzling from the wound as she staggered away clutching her face. Hilde dropped to one knee, her breathing dreadful now, each breath dragging from her lungs like something was pulling razors through them. Hughie saw it. “No more, alright? You’re done.”

“Fuck you.”

“Such a motivator!”

Epona lunged again and Hughie moved. There it was. The shoulder. The eyes. The shift in her waist. Everything spoke before she did. Tick. Her right hand. Tick. High strike. Tick. Left foot unbalanced. Huginn slid beneath the claw and caught her elbow, driving his shoulder into her ribs. Epona grunted. His foot hooked behind hers and the Moore suddenly found herself falling. Hughie caught the back of her golden head. “Night night.” He drove her face into the dirt. BOOM. The grove shook. He lifted her. Again. BOOM. Again. BOOM. “STOP!” BOOM. “FUCKING!” BOOM. “DANCING!”

Epona’s hand burst out of the crater and wrapped around his neck. Her ruined face slowly lifted from the earth, one eye hanging crookedly in its socket, blood running from her nose and mouth while half her cheek smoked beneath the silver wound. She smiled. “Never.” Her grip tightened. Hughie was lifted from the ground, his feet kicking as his throat cracked under her fingers, the ticking deafening now. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. He clawed at her wrist with his good hand. Nothing. Epona tightened harder, his head beginning to throb as the bones in his neck creaked. Hughie stopped struggling. Epona’s eye widened, even Remhilde looking up as Hughie smiled beneath the broken remains of his mask. “Gotcha.”

His shattered arm swung uselessly, not at Epona, but at the loops of intestine still hanging from her stomach. His broken fingers hooked around them and pulled. Epona screamed. The noise was so violent that birds exploded from the trees, her grip vanishing as Hughie hit the dirt, rolling beneath her before kicking the side of her knee.

The joint folded with a wet snap. She collapsed. Hughie turned with her, striking the elbow. Another crack. Her arm bent backwards. Before she could even scream, his forehead smashed into her nose, her face flattening as Epona staggered away and Hughie followed. One strike to the throat, another to the ribs, a talon beneath the jaw, heel against the broken knee. Every wound he had already made became a target, every weakness became obvious, every movement became loud.

Tick. Shoulder. Tick. Hip. Tick. Eyes. Tick. Knee. Tick. Hand. Tick. Jaw. Tick. Breath. Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock.

Hughie’s face tightened. Something was wrong. Epona split. There were two of her, then three. One moving left, another right, one standing perfectly still. “What the…” He blinked. The real Epona was gone. A root slapped him across the face and his body spun through the air.

The Moore stood several meters away, both claws dug into the earth as she ripped an entire network of thick roots free from the ground. They cracked and whipped around her like long wooden serpents. “Who’s the fucking cheater now?!” Hughie cried. Epona laughed.

The roots came down. Hughie darted aside, one smashing into the soil while another wrapped around his waist. “Ah, bollocks.”

The twisted vines dragged him through the damp moss, grass and dead leaves. The twigs and pine cones ground at the flesh of his neck and face, leaving him a shredded mess as he slashed himself free with a cunning claw.

Whistling through the air, he felt a thump of irritation overcome him and he became painfully aware that the tree roots had been whipped up in pursuit of him.

Twisting around midair - in a spur-of-the-moment move - he smacked one of the roots with his left hand. CRACK. He grimaced… as he felt the glass within his watch shatter.

Slashed by the second root which Epona had lashed at him, Huginn was smashed back down, his body tangling into the trees before smashing harshly into the damp earth.

Lying in a shallow marsh, Hughie raised his drenched head out of the putrid water, lifting his left hand to spy desperately at his watch.

His heart fell as he saw its face was dented and its glass face was badly fractured. He lurched as something unnaturally twisted in his belly. Not only that, his mind also exploded into a disoriented white scream.

He felt his insides begin to twist about, wriggling beneath his skin. Like a little maggot in a trash can, he curled into himself and began to count, just like Moonie taught him.

The numbers descended in increments of five, in truth just the basic five times table. But much like the simulation of the analog clock counting down the hours in his mind, they helped steady the-

HARPER!

Again, he lurched as the name mounted him and took root, causing a brutal tsunami, ten times worse than the ripping maelstrom which had struck only a moment ago.

“HARPER, YOU HAVE TO GO. GET IT IN YOUR HEAD, HE’S NOT COMING BACK FOR US, JUST LEAVE ME BEHIND. HARP, GO!”

Hughie’s mind danced in a horrendous mess of pictures and reflections, none of which belonged to him - yet all were possessed of him. It was too much, so much so that Hughie was still convulsing as a twitchy pair of claws snatched him up by the neck again.

Epona staggered, but lifted him up, a little too easily - like a baby’s doll. Her wounds slowly beginning to seal themselves closed, she cackled madly, Hughie’s body swinging in her grasp like an epileptic pendulum, his mind slipping into the void.

“Oh bestie, oh buddy, oh my sweet little friend… Oh, Huginn. You have been the best I’ve had in a while. All those squishy little humans back home, ummmm, God, it just rattles my bones how delicate they are. But you, I just keep tearing you apart but you never stop. Ah… well, you seem a bit broken now, did something happen? Don’t tell me you’ve gone and kicked the bucket already? - OOP, What’s this!?”

Epona dropped Hughie to the ground, simultaneously snatching the badly damaged stopwatch from his cold hands. She contemplated it out of genuine curiosity.

“Ain’t this an ominously beautiful little thing. We all have our knickknacks, I suppose. I completely get ya, bestie. Lookie here if your neck ain’t too broken!” Epona stroked the golden rings which wrapped her biceps and thighs; the biggest and greatest was a beautiful golden knot around her narrow neck, gleaming with a power which irked a strange feeling in Hughie. “These little babies right here are my pride and joy, each a blessing from Aunt Morri, each a reward… alongside a few succulent newborns to feast on of course, EYYYUMMM, I’M GETTING WET JUST THINKING ABOUT IT-”

A splash of black blood drenched Hughie’s face, his half-cracked eyes blinking only slightly as the two figures lingered above him. All was lost and he was barely there, but with the last of his strength he mustered the courage to look.

The iron helm was wrapped in a shroud of splinters; like angry bees, they clung to the scaled shadow which had cut a path through the trees. The terrible iron teeth of the dog-helm had clamped down, passing through flesh, blood and bone.

Epona was locked in a state of shock. From left breast to collarbone and neck, the jaws had bitten deep, opening a savage wound which cascaded with congealed dead blood.

Artorias, the Mad-Dog, much to the credit of his name, planted his feet in an explosion of sparks and whipped Epona about and into the earth. The massive, shocking thumps of each meeting of flesh versus the hard bark and swarming splinters turned Epona into a vaguely woman-shaped pincushion.

The Mad-Dog cracked the Vampiress against the trees, crumbling her around them in a brutal display before her skin and muscle snapped with a sickening pop. Epona was sent flying into the dark… missing her entire left arm and shoulder blade.

Huginn beheld the Ashen Judge, spouts of steam creeping from between the black scales of his armoured suit, licked by crimson bolts with a sinister golden glow behind the bloody helm which hung open, allowing the clumps of Epona’s flesh to splat into the earth.

Artorias’ red-painted face creased with a savage joy, his eyes alive with a different sort of life. He gazed upon Har… he gazed down on Huginn and gave a little grin filled with crude pride as he saw his glazed-over but open eyes. “Well, at least you aren’t quite ruined yet,” Artorias spoke.

But his head snapped aside, a sneer of dark joy escaping his lips before the heavy iron jaws slammed shut with a prominent thud.

A chaotic shadow hurtled towards him. A man in a bright green suit, khaki shorts, a tall emerald top hat and a creepy, smiling leprechaun mask smashed into Artorias who met the blow with a casual but powerful flick of his wrist.

“Don’t go vanishing like that, Old Dog! You had me quaking in my lily-white boots hahaha!!!” the Green Moore screamed. But the Ashen Judge did not stir.

Hughie… or whatever this quivering man was falling into, doubted his vision, unable to comprehend the shattering crack of Artorias’ counterattack. In a fraction of the blink of an eye, Artorias’ steel-heeled boot had collided with the Leprechaun’s head.

The entire shadowed vista was painted in a mosaic of pure maroon. The only remnants of the Leprechaun’s exploded head were the little nuggets of skull or grey matter, stapled into the dirt and the trees.

But another came quickly, and another, then another… all green-suited, all white-booted, every one a murderous leprechaun.

“COME ON, OLD DOG, WE CAN DO THIS ALL FOOKIN’ DAY!!!!!” the dozen leprechauns roared in unison… in the same weaselly Irish tone.

…

The first leprechaun came screaming in from the left. Artorias vanished.

His palm struck the creature flat against the face and continued through. There was a wet pop as the head tore clean from the neck, spinning away with the hat still perched stupidly atop it. Before the body hit the ground, Artorias caught another by the throat. The iron jaws snapped down across its ribs, crushing the upper body between black teeth while three brutal punches hammered into the dangling torso. Flesh collapsed inward, organs bursting from the back in ropes of blackened gore.

Another came behind him.

Artorias flicked two fingers against the base of its skull.

CRACK.

The Moore dropped instantly, neck folded sideways like snapped wire.

Three rushed him together. The first caught a steel heel beneath the chin and disappeared upwards without its jaw. Artorias seized the second by both ears and smashed its masked face into his rising knee, pulping everything between. The third barely had time to scream before the Mad-Dog caught its ankle, swung it bodily around and battered two approaching copies apart with their own brother.

“HAHAHAHA, OLD DO-”

The iron helm clamped across another waist.

Artorias bit down.

The body separated with a nauseating crunch.

Five remained.

They scattered.

Bad idea.

Crimson lightning cracked across the grove.

Artorias appeared among them.

A fist entered one chest and exited through the spine. A palm crushed another face into its skull. One was kicked so hard through the stomach that its upper half tore free entirely. The last two rushed together.

Artorias caught both heads beneath his arms.

Squeezed.

CRACK.

Silence returned to the woods.

Twelve green bodies lay butchered across the grove.

Artorias slowly rolled his shoulders.

“Pathetic,” Artorias huffed, whipping the blood off of his hands, the rest spraying away in a fine mist when the iron jaws shot open.

Artorias appeared before Hughie’s crumpled form, tearing him up and out of his stupor. “Hey, OI-!” Artorias’ leather-bound hand smacked Huginn’s face, though for a time, the Raven stayed limp, unable to urge his muscles to go on. “Come on, kid, you can’t be done just yet….”

“HEUUUUGGGGH?”

Artorias turned to peer at the strange noise made by a colossal figure. The beast of a man wore a badly damaged cauldron-shaped helmet, the entire left face caved in so deeply that it was a wonder that the huge barrel-chested Vampire could function.

Drool and blood cascaded from the hem of his helm as the huge pale vampire stomped clumsily toward them, its one good eye glowing under the helm.

“Alright, kid, time’s up. You really got to wake up now, HUGINN COME ON WAKE THE FUCK UP!” Artorias demanded, his head swivelling back and forth as the great beastly vampire Dagda came charging, moaning like a disabled child.

As the distance closed, Artorias ducked down, encapsulating himself down on Hughie so that no harm would come to him.

But Hughie was gone.

Artorias jolted as he looked down to see his arm empty. The Shadow was coarse, agile and rough. Its body was a shambles of wounds and broken bones, yet it remained animated beyond even its own capabilities.

Dagda the brute caught a decisive blow; the shadow’s fist had sunk two inches deep into his abdomen. Only when the whip of the sound barrier sheared the leaves off of hundreds of trees around them did Dagda finally blast away into the dark.

Artorias’ golden gaze looked upon the Shadow, tall, pale, eyes black, devoid of colour. The dark, wriggling veins around his body writhed beneath the marble skin. Save for his torn clothes, his shattered crow mask and the tangled blonde hair, this waxy creature was not the Vampire Artorias had protected.

A flash of silver barreled like a bat out of hell into Artorias’ shoulder: a twitching silhouette in a black cloak. “God damn it, girl-”

“Oh shut your mouth-” Remhilde hacked and coughed; a dribble of crimson dripped down her chin. She pointed with a silver talon to her father’s own face. “You’re not exactly performing restraint very well yourself there, are you?”

A streak of red fell down from Artorias’ left nostril. He wiped it off with a huff. “They caught us right on the cusp of exhaustion. Very convenient, don’t you think?”

“You think they have a tab on us?” Hilde asked weakly.

The Mad-Dog shrugged. Even restored as he was, he was still functioning on a borrowed soul - borrowed time. Even Communion had its limits and he would not be able to continue for much longer. Remhilde couldn’t continue at all.

“They won’t let up for long, even if we run, they’ll chase us down. Welp, for once I’m fresh out of good ideas. Hey, Bird, got anything in that tin can up there or are you just going to…” Hilde paused, staring as a milky dark aura began to ooze from Huginn’s pores.

For the first time, a single thought filled his mind.

*“It’s… It’s gone. It stopped? The Ticking, I can’t hear it anymore? But what the… where is Moonie? Where am I?” *

“Does it matter?” His old mind spoke back as it slowly began to fade away. *“I think I get the idea anyway. I was doomed from the start, doomed to fall back into you, into us. Can’t say it’s been the best run, but… we’ve all gotta face the music one day. Hey, just do me one favour before… before I slip away. Protect them, help them get away - let me do one thing useful at least if this really is the end.” *

He felt his debilitation ease, if only a little. She had shown him mercy, and she had granted his wish.

“Thank you… thank you. It was a pleasure. Just please never forget that damnable time, that time when Huginn of Thought was me. Goodbye, Harper. Tell Moonie, Charlie, all the Nox that I love them…”

She stared down at him from her throne high above at the pinnacle of where his consciousness once was and gave him one final smile. *“Goodbye, Hughie.” *

Harper turned, a waxy mannequin bathed in a dripping crucible of darkness. Her black eyes peered at Artorias, both confused, both in shock. “Take her and run.” She removed the phone with a cracked screen from her pocket and tossed it to Artorias, who caught it curiously. “Get in contact with the Nox, save Charlie. That is my only wish now.”

“You cannot fight all of them,” Remhilde muttered. “You will-”

“I know. Don’t start worrying about an old fuck-up like me, go and… uh, goodbye,” Harper said, her voice box a gargling mess of gunge.

“Come on, Remus,” Artorias said as the sound of many rapid steps began to close in.

Hilde hesitated as the Mad-Dog pulled her shoulder. She saw the melting, blurring ooze that was once Huginn continue to surge.

“We will be back here, jackass, so you better survive until then, you fucking bird,” Hilde growled.

The figure raised an unstable hand. She wanted a fucking bird; she could have one.

Remhilde, smiling subtly to herself, and Artorias Drake vanished into the dark.

Many shadows appeared in the small clearing, still bathed in the lunar silver. Dagda, Epona and four or five Leprechauns all stood, reattaching arms, wounds closing, cuts vanishing, bruises dissipating, flesh winding back together.

At their head was the Red-haired Lady of the Moores, playing amusedly with her pale fingers as she watched Harper stew with abyssal power.

“Ah, I get it now. You weren’t just Corvus’ plaything, you were his little clay doll as well. Don’t take me for a fool, Blooded. Those filthy Drake Maggots can run away all they want, they’ll get what's coming to them now that nobody is watching their backs. You’ve sacrificed your unfortunate self for absolutely nothing, of nothing, and for no discernible purpose. You may as well just give in, to face us all is pointless.” Lady Morrigan spoke true… but Harper knew this better than she could possibly imagine, even better than Hughie.

But Hughie was done with being afraid, trembling in the dark, clutching his sister’s coattails. If he was going out, he was going out with a bang, one final fantasia of bloodshed. A sacrifice of himself to himself.

Hughie, with the last vestiges of strength he had left, raised the sundered stopwatch in his left hand and, with strength, deliberation and a manic joy, compressed his fingers, rendering the object of his obsession for decades into a fine dust.

The Moores flinched, save for Morrigan, who watched in a grim remembrance.

“OOOOOOH HE’S SO STRONG HE’S SO STRONG!!!!” Epona roared as her severed left side slowly began to reattach.

“EUUUUUOOOOOGHHHH!” Dagda’s groan echoed in his dented helm, along with another washing of blood and spit down his chest.

“LOOKS LIKE AUSSIE IS BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS!” the leprechaun cried, his many clones cackling dementedly beside him.

Hughie raised his smog-cloven claws and grinned. “I. am. A. fucking. Kiwi. Bitch. Come on, you bunch of ugly cunts. Onward!”

The Raven gave his final call before his final end and spoke the words which his lips had never before tasted, not in his current flavour:

“Thought: FIRST HAND!”