The candles flickered before she even saw them. Olive pushed open the creaky door to the living room, still rubbing her eyes from the nap she had taken in the middle of the day. The smell hit her first, vanilla cake, sweet and heavy, the kind that made her chest ache with happiness before she even got a bite. "Happy birthday, Olive!" Her sister Callie's voice rang out first, too loud and too excited, as if she'd been holding her breath just to scream it. Olive jumped, her heart thudding, then broke into a shy, startled grin. Her father, Jang, stood behind Callie, his hands awkwardly clutching a lopsided cake with thirteen candles dripping wax like tiny burning tears. His smile was uneven, nervous, but real. Olive hadn't seen him smile like that in what felt like forever. Callie, always the brighter one, wore a paper crown she had folded from notebook paper. She rushed forward and plopped it onto Olive's head, crowning her before Olive could even complain. "You're officially thirteen," Callie said proudly, "and you have to wear it. King's orders."
"Queens," Olive mumbled, correcting her, though her lips curled up despite herself.
Jang set the cake down on the table. His hands hovered above it for a second, shaking as if afraid he might drop the whole thing, then he stepped back, folding his arms to hide the tremor. He looked at Olive the way someone looks at a candle in the wind, like if he blinked too long, she might blow away. "Make a wish," he said quietly. His voice was rough, but kind.
Olive stared at the candles. The little flames seemed to dance just for her, glowing brighter than the dim kitchen light. Thirteen of them. One for each year. One for every night she had cried herself to sleep after her mother... after Han had gone away. She thought about wishing for Mom to come back. For things to be normal. For the dark memories not to stick to her ribs like cobwebs. But she looked at Callie, bouncing on her toes with excitement, and Jang, trying so hard to make this moment special, and she decided maybe wishing for something else was better. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and wished for a year that didn't hurt so much. Then she blew. The flames sputtered and died, smoke curling into the air like tiny ghosts escaping. Callie clapped so hard her palms must've stung. Jang leaned forward and ruffled Olive's hair, though gently, as if afraid she might break. There was cake. There were gifts, small ones, wrapped in crumpled newspaper because Jang had forgotten to buy wrapping paper. A secondhand sketchbook, because Olive liked to draw. A stuffed rabbit with one eye missing, because Callie insisted it "looked lonely and needed her." And, finally, a little silver locket from Jang, its chain cool in Olive's hands. Inside, he had tucked a tiny photo of Olive and Callie, smiling on a carousel long ago. For the first time in a long time, Olive laughed. The sound was quiet and uncertain, like she'd forgotten how, but it was real. Her birthday felt warm. Like maybe, just maybe, she could belong in this world again. But somewhere, deep inside her, she felt a pull. A whisper. A reminder. The dark web, its shadows, its promises, its teeth, wasn't finished with her yet.
The doorbell rang. Olive blinked, mid-bite of her cake. Jang frowned, confused, and Callie tilted her head. "Dad, you didn't invite anyone, did you?"
Before Jang could answer, the front door banged open with a crash loud enough to rattle the window glass. "Surprise!" They spilled in like a tidal wave of chaos. First came Patch-Eyes, tapping his cane against the floor, his blindfold tied too tight but grinning ear-to-ear. "Where's the cake? I can smell sugar from three blocks away!"
"Uh," Callie whispered, "isn't he-"
But Olive's face lit up. "Patch-Eyes!!" She leapt from her chair and hugged him.
Next, Twitchy bounded in, headphones clamped over her ears, moving like she was dancing to music no one else could hear. "Olive!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" she yelled way too loud, even though she couldn't hear herself.
Behind her shuffled Mandible, his insect-like mandibles twitching, clicking. He carried a crumpled gift bag in his claws, shoving it toward Olive with a muffled buzzing sound. Olive accepted it without hesitation. "Thank you, Mandible! You didn't even eat the wrapping paper this time!"
Tracker followed, nose twitching uselessly, holding a balloon that read "Happy Bathday." He looked proud. Olive giggled.
Then Stumpy barreled in, well, stumbled in, trying to balance a gift box on his shoulder since he didn't have arms. It slid off and hit the floor with a thud. "Dang it!" he barked.
"Oh, Stumpy," Olive said, hugging him anyway.
Crab Claw crawled in sideways, his massive claws scraping the floorboards. "I can't walk but I made it! Happy thirteen, kiddo!"
Right behind him, Bruise Bloom stepped in like a wilted flower, carrying a rose that dripped black petals. "Happy birthday, sweet Olive," she whispered, her voice cracked but kind.
Then, with a flash of paint, Mother of Color spun into the room, splashing the kitchen walls neon pink and the cake frosting bright green. "PARTY COLORS!" she declared, throwing her arms out like a magician.
Melody, the pig-girl, snorted and scrambled across the table, chomping directly into Olive's slice of cake. "OINK OINK! This is mine!"
"Melody!" Olive laughed so hard her stomach hurt.
The window rattled open and Vein Glory clattered through, his legs gone but his torso sitting upright in a tiny toy train. "Toot toot! All aboard the birthday express!"
Behind him pounced Roadeater, bits of asphalt in her teeth, growling playfully. "Happy birthday, Olive! I brought snacks!" She dropped a possum on the floor.
"Please don't eat that in the house," Jang muttered, but no one listened.
Then, like shadows themselves bent to make space, The Lord of Death entered silently, skeletal hands holding a bouquet of wilted lilies. "Death himself celebrates your thirteenth year," he intoned.
"Thanks, Lord Death!" Olive chirped, hugging him like he was Santa Claus.
Soldier 28 limped in next, muttering under his breath about ambushes, then stiffly saluted Olive before dropping a dented helmet onto her head as a gift. And finally, dragging seawater behind him, Deep Blue flopped across the floor, handcuffs jangling. "Couldn't miss it, Olive," he said in a voice like bubbling waves.
Olive clapped her hands, her grin wider than it had been in years. "You guys came!! You really came!"
Her father and sister stared in stunned silence at the kitchen, now filled with monsters, colors, snorting pigs, and the faint smell of roadkill. "Olive," Callie whispered slowly, "you... have friends from the dark web?" She had forgotten from all that time.
Olive nodded proudly, hugging the stuffed rabbit Callie had given her earlier. "They're the best friends ever." The kitchen roared with laughter, chatter, pig squeals, and spectral whispers. For Olive, for one dizzy, hilarious moment, it felt like heaven, even if everyone else could only see the shadows of hell crowding around her. "Careful, Mandible!" Olive yelped, laughing as the bug-man tried to pass her a present. His claws sliced straight through the wrapping paper. Out spilled a bunch of glitter slime that immediately glued itself to the floor.
"Ohhh no, don't touch it!" Callie cried, but it was too late. Stumpy dove in headfirst, trying to grab the slime with his mouth since he didn't have arms. He got stuck, rolling across the floor like a human mop.
"Hold still!" shouted Crab Claw, dragging himself sideways with his one massive claw. He pinched at the slime to help, but ended up pinching Stumpy's hair instead.
"LET GO!" Stumpy bellowed, hopping around with Crab Claw dangling off him like a lobster trap.
Meanwhile, Twitchy had climbed onto a chair and was singing Happy Birthday at the top of her lungs, completely off-key. Patch-Eyes clapped along, but about four beats behind. Soldier 28 yelled at them to "keep the noise down, the enemy will hear us!" while ducking under the table. On the counter, Melody the Pig Girl had discovered the leftover cake and was shoving her face into it with gleeful oinks. Jang reached over to stop her, but she snapped at his hand like a feral animal. "Melody! Don't bite Dad!" Olive laughed so hard her sides hurt.
Mother of Color twirled dramatically, turning the kitchen chairs neon orange, the fridge bright purple, and Jang's shirt bright gold. "Now you look like royalty, birthday papa!"
Jang groaned. "This is paint. This is literally paint."
Roadeater gnawed on the edge of the dining table. "Mmm. Wood tastes like asphalt's cousin." She spat out a chunk of splinters and grinned with teeth too sharp.
Vein Glory drove his toy train around in circles, bumping into everyone's feet. "Choo-choo, Olive is thirteen, Olive is queen!"
Bruise Bloom sat in the corner quietly, staring at a wilting flower. "I... bruised it just for you," she whispered, handing it to Olive. Olive hugged her tight anyway.
Then, to top it off, Deep Blue flopped onto the couch, soaking it completely. "Sorry. The ocean comes with me." He sighed, flicking his tail.
Olive wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "This is the BEST birthday ever!"
Callie stood frozen in the middle of the chaos, clutching her paper crown, her jaw hanging open. "How... how are you even enjoying this?"
Olive just smiled at her sister, cheeks flushed with joy. "Because they're my friends. They came all the way from the Dark Web just for me."
The kitchen was wrecked. The cake was half-eaten, furniture chewed, slime hardened on the floor, and the smell of wet fish and roadkill hung in the air. But Olive was glowing, the happiest she'd been in a year. And for a moment, everyone laughed with her. The living room looked like a war zone made out of balloons and frosting. "NO! Not the chandelier again!" Jang shouted, ducking as Twitchy swung from it like a deaf Tarzan, laughing and screeching her own birthday song remix. Patch-Eyes, trying to clap along, accidentally smacked Soldier 28 in the helmet.
"INCOMING!" Soldier 28 barked, diving behind the couch, convinced the ceiling was collapsing.
Meanwhile, Roadeater had tackled the piñata Callie worked on all morning. Instead of candy, she stuffed it with shredded paper. "This is terrible!" Roadeater growled, spitting out confetti. "It doesn't even crunch!"
"Try chewing slower!" Olive giggled, clutching her stomach from laughing so much.
On the couch, Crab Claw struggled to balance a plate of pizza. His claw pinched right through it, sending toppings flying. One piece of pepperoni smacked Mandible in the face, who buzzed angrily and tried to speak, but only managed an aggressive click-click-click. "Hey, that's rude language!" Callie scolded him.
Across the room, Deep Blue flopped dramatically, his tail slapping water everywhere. "I tried to wrap my gift," he said mournfully, holding up a soggy lump of newspaper tied with kelp. "But the ocean doesn't respect tape."
"Aw, it's the thought that counts!" Olive cheered, patting his damp shoulder without hesitation.
Bruise Bloom stood nearby, wringing her pale hands, clutching a blackened daisy that seemed to rot as she held it. "I... I bruised this flower for you, Olive. It's what I do best." Her voice trembled with both pride and apology.
Deep Blue turned his watery gaze toward her. "That's... beautiful," he said. His voice bubbled like waves in a cave. "You bruise flowers. I ruin furniture with saltwater. We're... similar."
Bruise Bloom blinked, her dark lashes fluttering. "You think so?"
"Of course. Look." He nudged his soggy gift forward. "Your flower, my wet mess. Together... the perfect disaster."
She actually laughed, soft and broken, like a cracked bell. "The perfect disaster..."
Olive gasped, delighted. "You guys are getting along! That's so cute!"
The two exchanged awkward smiles, both clearly unused to anyone calling them "cute."
Meanwhile, Mother of Color spun around the room, shrieking: "THIS PARTY NEEDS MORE PINK!" She painted the television hot pink, then turned Jang's hair neon green.
Jang groaned. "Why do I even bother cleaning the house..."
Stumpy hopped by, balancing a soda bottle on his head. "Don't worry, Mr. Dad, I'll clean up!" The soda slipped and exploded, spraying everyone. Twitchy cheered like it was fireworks.
"DRINKABLE GLITTER WATER!" she shouted, scooping foam into her hands.
Bruise Bloom, trying to hand Olive her gift delicately, slipped in the soda puddle and landed right against Deep Blue's tailfin. For a moment, the flower girl and the merman froze, tangled in soda fizz and seawater. Deep Blue cleared his throat, scales glittering in the neon light Mother of Color had splashed across the ceiling. "You, uh... you smell like wilted petals."
"And you smell like low tide," Bruise Bloom murmured back, oddly flustered.
They both burst into awkward laughter. Olive clapped her hands. "Best. Birthday. EVER." Vein Glory choo-chooed around them on his toy train, honking a little whistle. Melody the Pig Girl snorted cake crumbs all over Callie.
The Lord of Death solemnly raised a toast with a cup of soda. "To Olive," he said, his voice echoing. "May your thirteenth year be... not entirely doomed." The room erupted in laughter, cheers, and pig squeals. Olive beamed, the happiest she had been since before the Dark Web claimed her. For one night, her family, her strange broken friends, and her wild laughter filled the house with something that almost felt like light. Even if it was chaos, even if it was messy, it was hers.
The house was already wrecked from the party, but Olive wasn't ready for it to end. "Dad," she pleaded, clasping her hands. "Can they stay over? Please? It's my birthday! You can't say no on a birthday."
Jang rubbed his temples. His kitchen smelled like fish, roadkill, and frosting, his hair was still neon green, and there was slime stuck in the carpet. He wanted to say no. Every nerve in his body screamed no. But Olive's smile, glowing brighter than her thirteen candles, broke him. "Fine," he sighed. "But one night. And only in the living room." The living room instantly transformed into chaos central.
Patch-Eyes lay spread out on the couch, snoring already, his blindfold pushed up over his forehead. Twitchy sat cross-legged on the floor blasting music only she could hear, her head bobbing like a pigeon. Mandible buzzed softly in the corner, clicking to himself, piling blankets around his insect body. Tracker wandered in circles, muttering, "Where are the marshmallows? I know I smelled marshmallows." He bumped into the lamp twice.
Stumpy rolled himself up in a sleeping bag like a human burrito. "This is the life! Can somebody scratch my nose though?!"
Crab Claw clacked his claw impatiently. "I call top bunk!" he declared, even though there were no bunk beds. He ended up climbing onto the coffee table, declaring it "bunk-enough."
Bruise Bloom carefully laid a wilted flower by her pillow. Deep Blue flopped beside her, soaking the carpet with seawater. "We're... sleepover buddies," he said softly. Bruise Bloom blushed and didn't argue.
Mother of Color painted the ceiling glow-in-the-dark yellow, making the whole room look like it was under a cheap disco light. Melody the Pig Girl rolled herself in a blanket and snorted loudly, chewing on a leftover cupcake in her sleep. Vein Glory had parked his little toy train right at the foot of Olive's sleeping bag. "I'm standing guard," he declared proudly.
Roadeater curled up at the front door like a guard dog, gnawing on a shoe she found. The Lord of Death sat cross-legged at the fireplace, telling ghost stories to no one in particular. "And then," he whispered, skeletal fingers raised dramatically, "the skeleton walked out of the mirror... and into the house." Olive clapped. Soldier 28 slept sitting up, mumbling battle plans in his dreams.
Callie poked her head in once, saw the merman dripping saltwater across her good sketchbook, and just groaned. "You're insane, Olive."
"I know!" Olive beamed, hugging her stuffed rabbit and snuggling deeper into her sleeping bag between Stumpy and Melody.
Jang shuffled past, staring at the disaster zone of his living room: roadkill crumbs, neon paint, seawater puddles, flower petals, and a pig-girl snoring into the couch cushion. He muttered, "This isn't a sleepover. This is a nightmare." But when he looked at Olive, her head resting peacefully, surrounded by monsters who adored her, his frown softened. Maybe, just maybe, a nightmare could feel like a dream if it kept her smiling. And so the house groaned under the weight of laughter, snores, and the occasional roadkill crunch, while Olive drifted into the happiest sleep she'd had in a year.

The house was finally quiet. Almost. Olive and her strange friends had collapsed in a tangle of sleeping bags and limbs, their snores filling the living room like a broken symphony. Jang sat at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a mug of cold coffee he hadn't even tasted. Callie sat across from him, sketchbook closed, pencil tucked behind her ear. Neither spoke for a long time. Finally, Callie broke the silence. "Do you remember, Dad... when Mom used to make pancakes for birthdays? The ones shaped like cats?"
Jang's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Yeah. She'd burn half of them, though. Pretend it was on purpose. Said the ears were supposed to be crispy."
Callie looked down at her hands. "I tried to think about that today. Tried to picture her smiling in the kitchen." She shook her head. "But all I see is... that night. When they took her away."
Jang exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes burning. "I've been doing the same thing. Reaching for the good memories, and they just... slip. Like they weren't ever real."
The silence grew heavier. The tick of the wall clock pressed against their ears. Then—soft, almost sing-song, like a lullaby, came a voice. "Jaaaang... Callieeee..." Both froze. It was faint, muffled, but unmistakable. Han's voice.
Callie's breath hitched. "Dad. Did you—"
"I heard it." His grip on the mug tightened until his knuckles whitened. "But it's not possible."
The voice came again, lilting, broken, like it was dragging itself up from underwater. "Don't forget me... don't forget your Han..."
Callie's eyes filled with tears. She looked toward the living room, but Olive was asleep, wrapped in the arms of her monstrous friends. She hadn't heard. Jang stood slowly, his chair creaking back, and turned toward the living room. The voice shifted—distorted now, warped like static chewing up a tape. "Oliveeee... Jangggg... Callieee..." That was when they saw it. On the television, though it had never been turned on, a single red eye glowed in the black screen. Watching. Pulsing. Neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed. The eye blinked. The red eye on the television pulsed, once, twice. Then Han's voice coiled through the room like smoke. Soft at first. Teasing. "Oh, Jang... look at you. Older, weaker. You couldn't save me. Couldn't save her."
Jang stiffened, his jaw locked. "Stop it."
Callie clutched his arm. "Dad, don't listen—"
But the voice only grew sweeter, sharper. "Callie, my little inventor. You still make those silly robots, don't you? I remember when you made me with angel wings. Do you remember? I used to tell you I'd never leave you." Her tone cracked into a giggle. "But here I am, and there you are. Left. Abandoned. Broken."
Jang slammed a hand on the table. "Han, this isn't you!"
"Oh, it's me," the voice hissed, the red eye widening across the screen, stretching until it filled nearly the whole glass. "The part you couldn't handle. The part that drank and drank until the bottle was empty, and so was I."
Jang's breath trembled. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the voice drilled deeper. "You held my hand at the hospital, didn't you? And even then you were thinking, maybe this is easier if she doesn't wake up."
"No!" Jang choked. His face twisted in pain. "That's not—!"
Han's laughter screeched like feedback, high and jagged. "LIAR!"
Callie covered her ears, but the sound bled straight into her head. "Stop! Please stop!" The room warped, walls bending inward, shadows bleeding like oil. The glow of the red eye swallowed every corner.
Han's voice dropped low, whispering like it was inside their skulls. "One last thing before we begin... You're both coming back with me. Back to where I live now. Back... to the Dark Web." The floor cracked open beneath their feet, digital static boiling up like fire. Jang tried to pull Callie back, but invisible strings wrapped their arms and legs, jerking them like puppets. The red eye flared, blinding. Jang and Callie screamed as they were yanked forward, bodies tearing into pixels, shredded into static, dragged into the screen. The television snapped off with a click. The living room was quiet again, filled only with the snores of Olive's friends. And the house was emptier.
Olive woke up to silence. Not the soft kind, like a blanket, but the hollow kind, the kind that made her chest ache. She blinked in the dim light of morning, surrounded by her friends still asleep in a heap of tangled limbs and sleeping bags. Twitchy was drooling on her own shoulder. Crab Claw snored like a buzzsaw. Deep Blue's tail slapped lazily against the carpet as he dreamed. But something was wrong. The house felt empty. "Dad?" Olive whispered, pushing herself out of her sleeping bag. "Callie?" No answer. She padded into the kitchen, the floor cold against her bare feet. The mugs from last night still sat on the table. Callie's sketchbook lay closed, pencil resting neatly on top. But the chairs were pushed back, abandoned. Olive's heart sped up. "Dad?" Her voice cracked.
One of her friends stirred. Bruise Bloom drifted into the kitchen, petals falling from her hair. "Olive...?" she murmured softly, her voice heavy with sleep. "What's wrong?"
"They're gone." Olive's lip trembled. She opened cupboards, checked under the table, even peeked out the front door as if her father and sister might be waiting outside. Nothing. The only thing waiting was the faint echo of her own pulse in her ears.
Bruise Bloom put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe they went out? Maybe—"
"No," Olive snapped, tears welling. "They wouldn't just leave me. Not today. Not after everything." She staggered back into the living room, clutching her stuffed rabbit against her chest. The weight of guilt crushed her. "This is my fault." Her voice shook. "Mom... She came back. I know she did. And she took them. Because of me."
Her friends were waking now, blinking and yawning. Tracker rubbed his useless nose. Soldier 28 barked something about "intruders at dawn." Twitchy hummed off-key.
"Olive," The Lord of Death said solemnly, his hollow eyes fixed on her. "If Han touched this house, it is no fault of yours. She is her own monster."
But Olive shook her head furiously, tears spilling. "No! She wouldn't have come back if it weren't for me. I was supposed to make things better. And now Dad and Callie are—" She couldn't finish. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, sobbing.
Her friends circled around her. Crab Claw patted her shoulder awkwardly with his claw. Twitchy shouted, "DON'T CRY, BIRTHDAY GIRL!" far too loud. Deep Blue lowered his gaze, whispering, "The Dark Web takes what it wants. Don't let it take you too."
Olive sniffled, wiping her eyes. She looked up, her small body shaking but her eyes fierce. "No. I'm not letting it end like this. If Mom dragged them into the Dark Web... then I'm going back in." The room froze.
Mandible buzzed furiously. Tracker shook his head. Roadeater growled. Even The Lord of Death flinched. "Olive," Deep Blue said firmly, his chains clinking as he shifted closer. "That place nearly broke you once. It wants you. If you go back, you may not come out again."
"I don't care," Olive whispered. Her voice cracked, but her resolve burned. "They're my family. If I don't go, I'll lose them forever. I won't let that happen. Not again."
Her friends exchanged uneasy glances. Twitchy fidgeted with her headphones. Stumpy muttered, "Kid's got guts."
Bruise Bloom knelt beside Olive, her dark petals falling gently onto the floor. "If you do this... you do it with eyes open. Not as a child. As someone who knows what she's walking into."
Olive nodded, swallowing her fear. "Then that's what I'll be."
She stepped toward the television. The screen flickered faintly, a pulse like a heartbeat. The red eye glowed once, waiting. Her friends crowded behind her. "Don't," Crab Claw begged. "Please, kid."
Olive gripped her stuffed rabbit tighter. "I have to." The screen hummed louder. She pressed her palm against the glass. It rippled like water. She took a breath. Then another. Her friends shouted her name, but it was too late. Olive stepped through. The screen swallowed her whole, leaving the living room dark and silent.
Jang woke with the taste of paint thinner in the air. His head ached, and for a moment, he thought he'd passed out drunk, until he realized he hadn't had a drink in years. The floor beneath him was wood, splattered with every color imaginable. Reds, blues, yellows smeared together in chaotic bursts like someone had fought a rainbow to the death. Easels crowded the room, each one holding bizarre, half-finished paintings: a horse with wings too small for its body, a staircase that twisted upside down, a dinner table where forks sprouted eyes. "Dad?" Callie's voice was groggy. She sat up beside him, rubbing her head. "What... is this place?"
Before Jang could answer, a voice boomed cheerfully from across the studio. "Oh! My, my, my, new muses!" They both jerked toward the sound. A man in paint-smeared overalls pirouetted into view, brush in one hand, palette in the other. His curly hair stuck out in every direction like it was sculpted by static electricity, and his face had streaks of color all over it. "I knew I felt inspiration tickling my earlobes!" he cried, twirling the brush between his fingers like a baton. "Two gorgeous strangers have fallen right into my studio! Ohhh, the drama! The tension! The undeniable aesthetic!"
Jang blinked. "...Who the hell are you?"
"Leonardo!" the man declared, bowing so deeply his beret fell off, then catching it midair and slapping it back on. "Painter, visionary, dreamer, sometimes lover of men, sometimes lover of wine, often both at once. And you, my accidental houseguests, are divine."
Callie raised an eyebrow. "...Are you okay?"
Leonardo gasped, clutching his chest as though struck. "Am I okay? Darling, I am transcendent." He spun to face her, eyes gleaming. "And you! My sweet, sharp-browed goddess, your cheekbones could cut glass! Your eyes like two perfect storm clouds ready to break! If I painted you, the canvas would cry from sheer beauty."
Callie flushed red and looked away. "O-okay, wow..."
Leonardo whirled to Jang, sizing him up with an exaggerated squint. "And you, sir. Rugged. Stoic. Like a tree that's been struck by lightning but refuses to fall." He clapped his paint-smeared hands. "I must paint you shirtless! No, half-shirtless! A single rip down the middle, your chest exposed but your dignity intact, an image of masculine suffering!"
Jang coughed. "Uh... no thanks."
Leonardo ignored him, already bustling toward an easel. "The muscles! The scars! You're a tragic masterpiece walking on two legs!"
Callie snorted into her hand while Jang groaned. As Leonardo grabbed a fresh canvas, something strange happened, the half-finished painting of the staircase began to ripple. The staircase stretched, twisted, and then grew out of the frame, snaking across the room. "Dad!" Callie yelped, pulling him out of the way as the painted staircase collapsed onto the floorboards with a loud clang.
Jang stared. "...Did that painting just—"
"Yes, yes, yes, everything I paint comes to life!" Leonardo interrupted gleefully, waving his brush like a wand. "A blessing, a curse, a party trick at best! Look, look, watch this!" He dashed to another easel and, with rapid strokes, painted a bouquet of flowers. Within seconds, the blooms sprouted off the canvas and into a vase nearby, filling the studio with a sweet, cloying fragrance. "Voila!" Leonardo sang, throwing his arms wide. "I breathe life where none exists. I am both mother and father, god and midwife, confetti and cannon!"
Callie's jaw dropped. "That's... actually kind of incredible."
Jang frowned, still trying to process. "Yeah, incredible until he paints something with teeth."
"Oh, don't tempt me!" Leonardo winked. He circled them again, tapping his chin with the brush. "Now... how do I capture you two? Together? Separate? A family portrait? Yes! A tragic tale of a father and daughter caught in the clutches of fate! Or—" he leaned in conspiratorially toward Callie, stage-whispering, "—perhaps I just paint you and pretend he's not here. You'd look stunning with a backdrop of starlight."
Jang groaned again. "Kid, I hate this guy already."
Callie giggled, the sound surprising even herself. "He's... something."
Leonardo gasped, pointing his brush at her. "Something?! I am everything, darling! Now, stand still, don't argue. I need to capture that perfect mix of exasperation and charm. It's your aura! Yes, yes, yes!" He began painting furiously, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, muttering, "Line, shape, destiny, drama, anguish!"
Jang rubbed his temples, muttering to himself. "Dragged into some hell-world, and of course, the first guy we meet is a lunatic with paint on his face..."
"Don't worry, Papa Tree," Leonardo said without looking up. "I'll make sure to capture your best angle. The one where you're silently questioning every life choice that led you here." Callie burst out laughing so hard she nearly fell over, while Jang just stared at Leonardo like he might actually strangle him. "Hold still, darling!" Leonardo sang, dragging a brush across the canvas with wild, joyous strokes. His palette looked like it had lost a fight with a rainbow. Callie sat awkwardly on a stool, chin in her hand, while Jang paced behind her like a caged bear.
"You're capturing my 'aura,' right?" Callie asked, her tone uncertain but curious.
"Oh, yes!" Leonardo beamed. "Your aura, your essence, your... brooding adolescent sarcasm! It drips off you like glitter in the rain!"
Jang groaned, running a hand over his face. "This is ridiculous. We're stuck in some freaky hellhole, and you're letting this paint clown sketch you like we've got time for art class?"
Leonardo gasped, clutching his chest like he'd been stabbed. "Paint clown? Sir, I am a visionary! I wrestle angels for pigment! I steal lightning from the gods just to paint your cheekbones properly!"
Callie stifled a laugh. "I kinda like him, Dad."
"Yeah, well I don't," Jang snapped, his voice sharp. "This place, this whole place, it's wrong. We shouldn't be here. And Olive—" his throat tightened—"Olive's not here." The air shifted. Leonardo faltered, brush still mid-air.
Callie bit her lip, the humor fading from her face. "Where is she?"
Jang muttered, almost to himself. His fists clenched. "That damn red eye... Han... if anything's happened to Olive—"
"Papa Tree," Leonardo said softly, his usual flamboyance tempered. "You are all thorns. But your branches bend toward love. I can feel it. Your little Olive is safe, somewhere near. I would not paint falsehoods."
Before Jang could snap back, a voice broke through the studio, trembling, urgent, small. "...Dad? Callie?"
Jang froze. Callie's eyes went wide. "That's her! Olive!" From the shadowed corner of the room, Olive stepped forward, clutching her stuffed rabbit so tightly it looked ready to burst. Her face was pale, eyes wide, but alive.
Jang's breath caught in his throat. "Olive."
Leonardo's palette clattered to the floor as he staggered back, eyes shining. "Oh. Ohhhh! She's radiant!" He clasped his hands together. "Like a candle in the abyss! The curve of her cheek, the tremble of her lip, ohhh, she is the muse of muses!"
Olive blinked, confused. "...Who's the weird guy with paint all over his face?"
"Leonardo," Callie sighed. "Don't ask."
Leonardo, already grabbing a fresh canvas, squealed, "I must paint her immediately! The innocence, the terror, the strength! I shall capture every tear, every heartbeat, she is the art I've been waiting for all my life!"
Jang stepped protectively in front of Olive, glaring at him. "You're not painting my kid."
Leonardo paused mid-brush stroke, then pouted dramatically. "You wound me, sir. You break my spirit. You, ahhh, but that fatherly ferocity, that storm in your eyes, yes, yes, yes, I must paint that too!"
"Touch the canvas, and I'll snap it in half," Jang growled.
Olive looked between them nervously, clutching her rabbit tighter. For a moment, she almost laughed, her dad arguing with some flamboyant paint wizard in a nightmare world. But beneath it, her chest ached with dread. She had found them. But the Dark Web wasn't done playing. Leonardo's brush hovered mid-air, eyes wide as he studied Olive like she was a living statue. "My dear," he breathed, "you are... perfection. Absolute, unblemished, chaotic perfection!" He leaned closer, swishing colors around her on the canvas. "I've never, never encountered such..."
Olive swallowed nervously. "Uh... do you know... about... Mother of Color?"
Leonardo's eyes practically bulged. "Mother of Color? She's divine! Oh, the colors she spreads, the chaos, the artistry, I adore her! She's brilliant! Oh, my little Olive, you are radiant, yes, but her... ooooh, she is my—"
He trailed off, swooning in a very theatrical way, leaving Olive blinking.
Before she could reply, a knock sounded at the studio door. "Who could?" Leonardo muttered, placing a hand delicately over his heart.
The shadows at the door stretched impossibly long, contorting in purple, orange, and green streaks. They pressed against the glass, whispering in voices like velvet scraping sandpaper. "Blushy... mushy... squishy..." the shadows hissed in unison, but then... "...Crushy... Smushy... Squelchy!"
Callie froze. "Wait... I know those voices..." The shapes lurched through the doorway, wriggling like living paint. Their eyes glimmered, sharp and wet, fixated entirely on Callie. They slithered forward, trailing color like spilled ink, leaving neon streaks across the floor. Callie took a step back. "Oh no. Not them..."
Leonardo flailed, aghast. "Mon dieu! Stop! They are... inappropriate! They're, oh heavens, they want what?!"
The shadows hissed, circling Callie, their whispers growing hungrier. "Your cheeks... your lips... the curve of your shoulders..."
Jang barked, grabbing Callie's hand. "Move! NOW!"
Olive stepped forward, trying to reason. "Wait! They're... not... normal!"
"Normal?!" Leonardo cried, brandishing a brush like a sword. "In this place, normal is a suggestion, not a law!" The shadows lunged. Crushy, Smushy, and Squelchy wriggled around Jang and Callie, their movements like liquid paint turned aggressive. Callie yelped, kicking one back, while Jang shoved another into the easel. Leonardo spun around, swinging paint across the studio. "Stay still, my muses!" He splattered a streak of blinding white across the floor, and the shadows shrieked, recoiling from the bright color.
Olive grabbed Callie's other hand. "This way!" She bolted toward the studio exit, the shadows hissing behind them, their neon limbs stretching impossibly.
"Stop painting your way to escape!" Leonardo shouted, flinging his brush like a spear, which narrowly grazed Squelchy.
The trio of shadows yelped in a chorus of wet, squelching noises, distracted for just long enough. Jang slammed into a door that suddenly appeared in the wall, a warped arch Leonardo hadn't noticed before. They stumbled through. Olive's breath came in sharp, panicked gasps. "We... made it... I think..."
Callie's eyes were wide, body trembling. "Those things... they, they wanted me... Ugh... disgusting..."
Leonardo leaned out from the studio doorway, splattered in every color imaginable. His brush twitched nervously. "I... I will... um... finish your portrait later, Olive! Don't worry! I... I think!?"
Jang grabbed Olive and Callie's hands, dragging them down a twisting hallway of shifting walls, colors flashing, the echoes of the lustful shadows behind them.
The three of them finally stumbled into another room, heartbeats pounding, breaths ragged, the neon glow from Crushy, Smushy, and Squelchy fading behind a doorway. Olive hugged her rabbit so tightly she nearly crushed it. "I... I thought we were done for."
Callie sank to the floor, wiping sweat from her brow. "If they touch me again, I swear—"
Jang crouched, looking between his daughters. "This place... it's insane. I don't know what's real anymore... but we stick together. No one else gets them."
Olive nodded, resolute. "Then we keep going. We'll find Mom... and we'll get back home."
Behind them, faint laughter echoed, paint-slick and wet, from the studio... Leonardo muttering about "the most exquisite shadows I've ever seen..."
The hallway twisted around them like a living serpent, walls rippling and colors bleeding into one another. Olive, Jang, and Callie ran as fast as their legs could carry them, hearts pounding, breaths ragged. "Why is everything moving?!" Jang shouted, dodging a wall that bulged outward like a soft, pulsing drum.
"I DON'T KNOW!" Callie yelled, clutching Olive's hand. Her wide eyes darted to the neon shadows weaving behind them, trailing streaks of purple, orange, and green. "They're right there!" The shadows surged forward, faster than anything humanly possible. They cornered them in a dead-end room, a small, round space with glowing walls and a floor like wet paint. The shadows condensed into writhing forms, eyes glinting like tiny, malicious stars.
One of them stepped forward, purple, slick, and grinning. "I am Crushy," it hissed, voice smooth like velvet smeared with syrup. The orange one coiled near Callie's feet. "I am Smushy," it purred.
The green one slithered upward, looming over Jang. "And I am Squelchy."
Callie froze, staring. "You... you want... what?!"
Crushy bowed dramatically, slithering close. "Your beauty... your charm... your very essence... we wish to claim as our wife."
Smushy leaned in, voice dripping. "Yes, the one with the cheekbones like sharp obsidian... our bride."
Squelchy's green form undulated over Jang's shoulder. "And we will not take no for an answer."
Olive gasped, clutching her rabbit tighter. Jang's face went pale; he stepped in front of Callie. "You're insane! You can't—"
Crushy grinned wider, their colors pulsating. "Insane? Perhaps. But irresistible."
Suddenly, a loud splat echoed as Leonardo burst through a shifting wall, palette in one hand, brush in the other. "Mon dieu! Monsters of lust and color! You dare threaten my muses?!" The shadows hissed, swiping toward him, but Leonardo spun on his heel and flicked his brush. Streams of paint erupted from the tip like living ribbons. They wrapped around the shadows' limbs, tangling them in bright pink and white, yanking them backward with a squelching sound. "Ah! Look at them struggle! Magnificent!" Leonardo shouted, twirling midair. "A distraction! Yes, yes, yes! You shall flee, little ones, while I create chaos!"
The wet, neon forms shrieked, their bodies flailing as the living paint ropes yanked them into twisted shapes, turning Crushy's arms into spiral lollipops, Smushy into a puddle of writhing orange blobs, and Squelchy into a green tangle that bounced like a spring. Olive grabbed Callie's hand. "Run! Now!"
Jang shoved them both forward. "This way! Keep moving!"
Leonardo continued his artistic assault, painting thick strokes across the floor that erupted into walls of blinding white and gold, separating the shadows from their path. The noise, the color, the chaos, it was overwhelming, but it worked. The trio scrambled, shrieking and wriggling in defeat. Crushy's voice echoed: "This isn't over! We... will... have... her...!"
Smushy and Squelchy joined, fading into the neon fog as Leonardo waved his brush dramatically. "And stay gone, my dear horrors!"
Olive, Callie, and Jang tumbled down the hallway, panting and clutching each other. The walls twisted around them, but Leonardo's chaotic magic had bought them a few precious seconds of safety. Olive whispered, voice trembling, "Dad... I... I don't know if we can outrun everything here..."
Jang pulled her close. "We'll find a way. We have to. For each other... and for Mom." Behind them, a distant, manic laugh echoed, half Leonardo, half the Dark Web itself, reminding them that danger was never far away. The hallway finally ended in a small, square chamber, the walls painted a calming shade of soft lavender that seemed to hum slightly under their hands. The floor was smooth, clean, and free of the writhing color that had chased them moments ago. Olive collapsed onto a cushioned bench, clutching her rabbit, while Callie sank to the floor beside her. Jang leaned against the wall, still tense, sweat drying on his brow.
Leonardo, hands smeared with multicolored paint, straightened and let out a deep sigh that carried more relief than Olive had ever heard. "Ahhh... peace," he murmured, twirling a brush between his fingers like a baton. "A moment to breathe, a moment to exist without chaos... a moment to think about beauty beyond horror."
Callie gave him a sideways glance. "You make it sound like breathing is hard here."
Leonardo beamed. "Oh, my dear, it is! Every corner holds danger, every shadow hides a story, every color... well, it often wants to kill you." He paused, tapping his chin. "But safe rooms, ah! They are little sanctuaries for the soul."
Jang muttered under his breath, "...or little sanctuaries before the next nightmare."
Leonardo ignored him, kneeling before a blank canvas he'd rolled in from the corner. "And in these moments, I reflect. I paint what moves me most... my heart, my passions, my... my affections."
Olive tilted her head. "Affections?"
"Yes! Love! Desire! That which inspires the soul to create, even in the darkest of webs." Leonardo's eyes glimmered. "For example... Mother of Color."
Callie raised an eyebrow. "You like her?"
Leonardo practically purred. "Like her? I adore her. The way she spreads beauty with every touch, every shade, every shimmer. The way she turns gray despair into radiant life. She is the muse I chase but can never fully catch... much like the fleeting brilliance of daylight on wet pavement!" He dipped his brush into a swirl of pinks, oranges, and emerald greens. On the canvas, a figure emerged: Mother of Color, her form fluid and radiant, colors dripping and pulsing, alive even in paint. Leonardo's hands moved delicately, yet feverishly, as if each stroke was a confession. "I imagine her laughing," he said softly, almost to himself. "I imagine her gentle hand turning my chaos into harmony. Oh, the way her laughter makes paint sing and dance! And yet... I fear to tell her. She is... she is perfection beyond my wretched, mortal grasp."
Olive watched him in awe. "That's... kind of beautiful."
Jang groaned, slumping to the floor beside Callie. "I don't even understand what half of that meant, but... nice painting, I guess."
Callie leaned against her father, glancing at the canvas. "She does look amazing. And I get it... sometimes the things we care about most feel untouchable."
Leonardo swirled a brush through the final strokes, the painting glowing softly with life. "And that," he said, standing tall, "is why I fight the chaos, why I create the improbable, why I perhaps foolishly, love through my art."
Olive smiled faintly, tucking her rabbit under her chin. "Maybe... someday, I'll feel like that too. About someone. About something worth fighting for."
Leonardo's eyes softened. "Ah, my little Olive, you will. And when you do, you'll paint with all the colors of your heart, and the world will bend to your courage."
Jang shook his head. "I'm just hoping we make it out of this room alive first."
Callie laughed softly, and for the first time since they'd arrived in the Dark Web, the three of them, father, daughters, and their chaotic painter ally simply breathed. Safe, for now. And somewhere, in the flicker of lavender walls, Leonardo's heart beat a little faster for the colors he couldn't reach, and for the people who had survived this long with him.
The hallway stretched like a living thing, walls pulsing with faint neon streaks. The shadows, Crushy, Smushy, and Squelchy huddled in a dark room off to the side, their twisted forms writhing in frustration. Crushy's purple tendrils coiled around themselves. "She isn't... right. She isn't the one we wanted."
Smushy's orange body oozed across the floor, muttering. "Her laughter... it's wrong. Too sharp, too defiant. It grates against us."
Squelchy's green mass slithered over a wall, eyes narrowing. "Yes... she is not the bride we dreamed of. Not delicate, not soft, not pliable... useless."
Crushy hissed, shaking violently. "But we do want something. Something to taste, to savor..."
Smushy coiled tighter, voice rising in hungry anticipation. "Yes... the flesh of the unprepared... the scream on her lips..."
Squelchy's voice was a wet, gurgling whisper. "The one with the sweet cheekbones... the one we can devour."
The three shadows wriggled together, pulsing with unnatural hunger. Their whispers became a chorus of slobbering voices, chanting, "Callie... we will eat... we will eat..." Back in the safe room, Jang paced anxiously while Callie leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath after the earlier chase. Olive clutched her rabbit, pale and trembling.
Jang stopped suddenly, ears straining. "...Do you hear that?"
Olive stiffened. "Huh? Hear what?"
The faint, wet, gurgling sound of their voices seeped through the walls. "Eat... eat... eat..."
Callie's stomach turned. "Oh no. They... they're not... they don't just want me..."
Jang grabbed a small piece of wood from the floor, clenching it like a weapon. "They're... cannibals. That's... that's what they are. We've got to... we've got to stay calm."
Olive's hands trembled violently as she buried her face into her rabbit. "I'm scared, Dad... they're going to get us..."
Callie swallowed hard. "We need to rest, just for a moment... catch our strength."
Jang nodded reluctantly, though his eyes never left the door. He crouched down, gathering Olive into his arms. "It's okay... I've got you, Olive. They won't get you while I'm here."
Olive pressed herself against him, shivering, clutching his arm. "I... I don't want them to eat us... I don't..."
"You won't let them," Jang whispered, wrapping an arm around both daughters as tightly as he could. "We stick together. No matter what."
Callie leaned back against the wall, eyes wide, whispering, "We're not safe... not really... but at least... for now, we can breathe."
The room fell silent except for their ragged breaths. Olive nestled her head into Jang's chest, hiding from the shadows' hungry whispers, her small body trembling against him. Outside the walls, Crushy, Smushy, and Squelchy muttered, their frustration rising: their prey had survived yet another encounter, and their hunger only grew sharper. But inside, for one fleeting moment, the three humans, father and daughters allowed themselves a few seconds of warmth, of comfort, before the horrors of the Dark Web crept back into every corner of their lives. The walls of Leonardo's studio trembled, the canvases quivering as if sensing danger. A wet, gurgling chorus echoed from the hallway beyond: Crushy, Smushy, and Squelchy. Leonardo froze mid-brushstroke, eyes wide. "Mon dieu... they are here? They, oh heavens, this is terrible!"
Jang grabbed Olive and Callie. "Run. NOW!"
The shadows burst through the doorway, slithering and coiling, their neon limbs writhing like liquid predators. Crushy's purple mass lunged first, snapping at the nearest canvas. Smushy followed, oozing over the floor with a wet squelch, and Squelchy's green tendrils whipped toward Leonardo, who yelped and scattered his paint everywhere. "Not in my studio!" Leonardo cried, flinging a palette of glowing paint into the air. The colors erupted like fireworks, forming a wall of white, pink, and gold ribbons that momentarily slowed the shadows.
Callie stumbled over the edge of a glowing paint puddle, yelping. "Dad!"
Jang grabbed her, pulling her upright, while Olive clung to his arm. "Go! Just go!"
Leonardo waved his brush frantically. "Run, run, mes enfants! I shall hold them... I, oh, non, non, they are fast!"
The three of them bolted into the hallway, walls twisting and pulsating with living colors. Paint streaks formed slippery slopes, and suddenly a staircase spiraled downward, forcing them to duck under a collapsing arch of blue and crimson. Behind them, the shadows shrieked in frustration, their gurgling voices merging with the wet slap of neon limbs against the walls. "We will eat... we will eat... we will eat!"
Jang skidded around a corner, sliding along a floor that rippled like water. Callie yelped as a green tendril shot past, narrowly missing her shoulder. Leonardo followed, panting, still trying to fling streaks of paint to slow their pursuers. "Hold on, mes enfants! The web... it is alive! It bends... it twists... but we can survive if we, AHH!"
Crushy lunged through a collapsing wall, the purple mass splitting into smaller tendrils, forcing Jang to shove Olive and Callie into a corner, barely avoiding a strike. "Move!" Jang barked, adrenaline pumping. "Keep running, just keep running!"
Olive's small legs pumped as fast as they could, her rabbit bouncing against her chest. "I... I don't want them to catch us!" she cried.
Callie glanced back briefly. "They're right behind us! They're insane!"
Leonardo waved his brush in wild arcs. Every stroke created temporary barriers: walls of paint, twisting shapes that erupted into life, distracting the shadows for just enough seconds to let the family leap through warped doors, sliding down staircases that defied gravity. The chase twisted through the Dark Web like a storm: glowing corridors, collapsing ceilings, floors that turned to liquid, and walls that tried to trap them. Each turn brought another horrifying neon limb snapping toward them. Finally, they burst into a wider chamber, the walls calmer, colors fading to a dim lavender glow. They collapsed, panting, their hearts hammering. Leonardo leaned against a paint-streaked pillar, brush clutched like a weapon, trembling. "Non... non... my studio is... it is not safe," he panted. "We... we cannot stay there. They... they will destroy... everything."
Jang nodded, still holding Olive and Callie close. "Then we keep moving. We don't stop. We find Mom... and we get out of this nightmare."
Olive buried her face against Jang's chest, shivering. "I don't want them to catch us... I'm scared, Dad..."
Jang rubbed her back. "I know, sweetheart. I know. But we're together. We'll get through this."
Leonardo's eyes darted around nervously. "Oui... together. But hurry! The web... it hungers, and they... oh, they hunt." The trio took a deep breath and continued through the twisting, dangerous corridors of the Dark Web, the echo of wet, gurgling shrieks fading behind them, but never far away.