Zalgo's Lair: 6:15 AM

ACTIVITY IN HALL TWO; FOREIGN OBJECT DETECTED.

This blaring automatic message stunned Zalgo from his en-desk nap. He fell head-over-tail from his chair, right onto the floor. Thump.

"What... What the hell?" Still halfway in lala land, he rubbed his scrunched-up eyes.

A comical exclamation mark popped over his head. Scrambling like a character out of Loony Tunes, the prince of darkness pulled himself up to check the monitor.

Lines of green text unrolled over the 'high-tech' black screen, which simultaneously began scrolling down as it appeared

MOTION SENSORS: GREEN
NOISE SENSORS: GREEN
INFRARED CAM 3: RED
LIGHT DETECTORS: GREEN
ENERGY WAVELENGTHS: CRITICAL

His eyes reflected an interesting distorted version of what he saw, as they widened to the size of dinner plates.

He looked... Genuinely alarmed.

Zalgo darted for the intercom, tail whacking against his discarded chair with enough force to break it from the sheer reckless force of his lunge.

More readings started cascading in the monitor, updated by the second.

Now, in addition to all that, there were mounting charts, blinky things, flashy things, spiking things, and lots of other important-looking stuff.

They all had one thing in common; they were all ascending higher and higher by the moment.

ENERGY WAVELENGTHS: CRITICAL RED

A faint blare resonated down the hall.

"Dammit!"

Critical wavelength readings were almost physically impossible – the only ones capable of expelling enough energy to cause such a feat were of his own kind; demo-

Zalgo rudely interrupted Phantom's narration by practically punching the intercom's buttons and bellowing into the dainty silver mike.

"Minions! Paging all minions to H2- Oh you imbeciles...." He took a look at a different monitor and saw them all gathered in the cafeteria, having some kind of bingo night.

Although, why the minions were having a bingo night at five in the morning was beyond me. Maybe they couldn't read clocks. Or maybe they just didn't give a damn.

They were supposed to clean that hall and burn the clown's body!

Either way, it was bad news for Zalgo.

As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by the prince of darkness, the only thing capable of creating wavelengths of energy powerful enough to be considered critical was-

Audibly growling, Zalgo whipped around again.

His tail struck the chair's battered remains, scattering them further.

"I'll go there myself!" He snarled through gritted teeth, forgetting about the intercom still being on.

Down in the cafeteria-turned-bingo-hall, all the minions cheered and hoped for his death. If it wasn't clear by now, they weren't too happy with their employer.

One of them even threw their bingo board at the speaker, pieces and all.

Ah, anydoodles, let's not dwell on them for too long. Prolonged exposure to minions has been linked to a rapid drop in comprehension skills, don't know you?

ENERGY WAVELENGTHS: HOLY S*** THAT'S HIGH!

Just before Zalgo left, his monitor switched to a horrifying sight. It was the Windows update screen.

Windows Is Updating: 2 out of 248759722 installed.

Yes, his whole system ran entirely on a tragically outdated version of Windows. Oh, the inhumanity. No wonder it took ages to notify him about major breaches.

Nobody knows why it was never updated, and in all likelihood, nobody will. This is definitely not Phantom stalling for time to boost her word count. Absolutely.

Zalgo (quite literally) flew through the lair's network of confusing halls and passages, via an extremely high tunnel that could only ever hoped to be accessed by someone with wings.

He made several fluid sharp turns, and then locked into a descent when an illuminated opening came into sight.

It was this large hole in the ceiling, which the gigantic Christmas bauble was hanging out of. And yes, he did slam headfirst into it on his way out.

Leaving the intimidating golden ball swinging (which sounds weirdly wrong out of context), Zalgo cut neatly through the hallway, hissing while rubbing a sore bump on his head.

Whose idea was it to put that there?!

He shook his head woozily, and snapped out of it, picking up a burst of speed as he soared into the second hall.

Even the black stains and splatters (which made it easy to find the site of battle), couldn't detract from its dull tangerine tiles and ridiculous amount of pillars.

-But the jack-in-the-box lying on its side could.

RoOouNd and roOoouNd the cobbLeeeer's BEeenccch...

Zalgo dove down and made a smooth landing, delicately avoiding any of the mess. He was royally ticked off at the minions, evident by the steam that came pouring out of his ears.

The mOn- Mon- monkeY cHaaaased tHhee weaseEelll...

The air was warped and distorted; the box surrounded by a veil of hazy purple.

Its crank was turning, slowly but surely.

TheeeE mOnkEyyyy thooUght Tt'waaaS aLl iN FuuunnnnN...

Zalgo shielded his face and shuddered as the box fell out of tune; it was jammed and repeating the same note over and over again.

P-Pop go- P-OP- PoP- pOP-

Even the singing voice became stuck, growing progressively louder and louder as it seemed to struggle to unstick itself.

The prince of darkness sensed a dramatic shift in the atmosphere and took off with a beat of his wings, wheeling backwards just as something sprang out of the box.

"PoP gOeS tHE wEaSeL~!"

Laughing Jack landed in a crouch, and bounced back to his feet in a blink of the eye.

He was grinning, a malicious kind of grin that left nothing in the imagination department when it came to pointy teeth.

The back of his costume sported a jagged gash that twisted down from neck to waist, the sides were bound together by a remaining few threads.

His shoulder was torn too – missing a noticeable amount of feathers.

Despite all that, the infernal (in Zalgo's opinion) grin stayed on his face.

And yes, before anyone asks, L.J's swirly cone nose was indeed fully intact and non-squashed. Which was probably for the better, since the doctor was still unconscious.

Without saying a word he began to advance forward, head held a little high and a firm step in his stride.

Zalgo, on the other hand, retreated 'till his back was to a pillar. Then he sank like a stone, feathers too ruffled to continue flying.

Which made no sense, since his wings didn't have feathers. But anyway, that's just another one of the many mysteries of the world.

"We can work something out...!" Were the first words out of the demon's mouth. The cornered one, not the smirking one.

"Sure we can, kiddo." L.J feigned interest in his honed claws. "I'm going to tear out your liver, and you're going to scream and watch."

Zalgo chuckled uncertainly. "Ahem, aren't you scared of me?"

"Nope. I've seen your browsing history." He still seemed to find his own claws much more interesting.

A minion poked its head around the hallway, then rushed back to give its friends the happy news that everything was steering nicely towards Zalgo's demise.

The prince of darkness swished his tail out of irritation. It smacked into the pillar behind him, leaving a noticeable crack in the stone.

A crack that expanded. And simultaneously shattered the whole aforementioned pillar in a fall of tumbling rubble.

Lesson learned; avoid the tail if its owner was in a bad mood. Dat thing be deadly. I promise there won't be any more interruptions. Carry on.

L.J zipped back from the falling debris, eyes torn from admiring his claws. He got into a stance that just screamed, 'I'm ready to fight!'.

Zalgo had other ideas.

-Of the cowardly kind.

I know what else you were thinking.

Lowering himself until his feet were just brushing against a (now cracked) tile, he hovered with a few steady flaps of his wings and made a gesture, like the low volume one.

"Let's have ourselves a compromise, yes? I really wouldn't want to fight you." He's a demon too; he can actually kill me...

"Why not?" L.J crossed his arms, distain written all over his face.

"Um... I haven't had my morning cup of coffee yet?..." Clearly, some people were better at lying than others.

The monochrome clown resumed his fighting stance. "I'm gonna turn your face into puppet strings kiddo!"

Zalgo gave a comical yowl and frantically told him to stop, since L.J had started stalking towards him again. "W-Wait! I can make it worth your while!"

Well, at least that stopped him. Although, Zalgo did get a lingering glare of suspicion, he took the pause as a nod to go on.

"I've nothing to hide here, so no secrets to give. But..."

"But what?" L.J meaningfully flexed his claws.

Zalgo put on a sly sort of smile. "I could tell you that Smirky's absolutely exhausted, and where you could find him. A place where he's always on his own."

"... I'm listening." L.J let his arms fall back to their respective sides, claws relaxed.

"You want revenge for what just happened, don't you? I think it'd be a piece of cake."

Then he gave a dramatic sigh. "Hell, you can put him back in the freezer if you want. Just leave me in peace!"

"Why should I believe anything you say?"

Zalgo yawned and went a bit limper, practically hanging by his flapping wings. "Take it or leave it, evil clown. I need my nap."

The monochrome clown was about to sock the prince of darkness in the face and proceed with all of his planned tortures.

And then he had a brief moment of consideration. For the possibility of vengeance, and for something else.

Smirky told me that Smiley'd been kidnapped and I bought it... But if that was a part of a lie, why did he say "I'm guilty as charged" right after I mentioned it in that confrontation?

... Or am I just digging around for more excuses to kill him?

Having no intention to fully follow through with his promise to leave Zalgo in peace (he intended to leave him in pieces), L.J reluctantly stuck his hand out.

I'll ask him about Smiley when we meet again. And if he won't tell... That's even better; I'll have an excuse.

"Deal."

_____________
A/N: L.J got one vote, so here he is!
This chapter veered in a whole 'nother direction than I intended it to. And it's completely unedited too (sorry for that!). Yay for late-night writing! Keep reading this author's note: you know you wanna.

Question Of Le Day: How are you feeling right now? In desperate, desperate need for a good night's sleep, but being held back by your love of creepypasta fanfictions? XD

My official explanation for L.J's jack-in-a-box acting strangely at the beginning of this story was that it knew he was gonna die soon and it was preparing to revive him.
This was totally planned and not made up on the spot to tie up a loose end.

Now then, at the dema- er- request of a certain someone, Smiley and Smirky's bitter brotherhood will be the (semi) main focus of the next chapter, so stay tuned for that! There'll be chocolate involved.

As always. Thank you for reading! Yes. You. The one behind that screen, reading all this right now. You're awesome. Go reward yourself with a cookie or something equally tasty. :)

Toodles~
Final Word Count: 1877.