Was that what Ghastly had wanted? Why he'd come to Corrival Deuce, instead of going straight back to talk to Skulduggery?
Because if it was, it backfired. Ghastly smiled at Corrival's retort, but the instant his old general disappeared down the hallway, the smile dropped. The silence in the living room became stifling, and the only noise that broke it - the ticking of an old antique grandfather clock in the corner - felt like the countdown before Ghastly broke down completely.
He was only barely holding himself together, and he knew it. Ghastly only managed to get this far because of God. He couldn't plan ahead, he had no idea where he would be this time tomorrow, or how he would feel, and it... it reminded him too much of the war. The war, and how little control they had over anything that happened. Friends dying. Villages burning. Chaos and destruction.
Friends disappearing to become mass murdering Necromantic sociopaths.
Slowly, stoically, Ghastly walked back by the phone to the whiskey bottle. Too late, he remembered that he left his glass back on the mantlepiece, and after a moment's debate, decided the walk was too long. He drank straight from the bottle, and sank slowly back down onto the couch.
It didn't make any sense. Even apart from all of the obvious ways, it didn't make any sense. What caused the change? Why did Skulduggery disappear? Why could he use Necromancy? Why had he gone on to join Mevolent? How the hell could he justify any of it, even if he wasn't trying to anymore? But really, the only thing Ghastly truly wanted to know, wanted to hear from Skulduggery's own mouth - or jaw - was what had brought him back. What was powerful enough to stop him, when nothing else had.
Ghastly didn't know how much time had passed, marked out by each long tick of the infernal grandfather clock. It was only when Corrival arrived back, fully dressed, that he even turned his head to look up.
It took him a moment to respond, and when he did, it was with the same abrupt tone as Corrival's. "On my way." Ghastly pushed himself back up onto his feet, and put the bottle back down onto the side table. He never in a million years would have believed that he and Corrival would cover up a crime committed by someone like Vile, and yet... what else could they do? Corrival knew as well; they couldn't let any of this get back to the Sanctuary.
Corrival's final words rang in Ghastly's head and he stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the sidetable, hissing with pain as the sharp corner dug into his side.
The pain, though, actually helped. Before the numbness could settle back in, Ghastly straightened up and let the pain in, let it flood. He didn't say anything - didn't know if he would have to or not, but he didn't nonetheless. He couldn't.
"What are we going to do with it?" he asked instead, rubbing his side. He assumed the body was Crux; Gabe would never have let Skul finish on China. Maybe the man had simply died of a heart attack, but Ghastly didn't hold out much hope. Not with Prave's phrasing - 'leaving' the body behind.
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Was that what Ghastly had wanted? Why he'd come to Corrival Deuce, instead of going straight back to talk to Skulduggery?
Because if it was, it backfired. Ghastly smiled at Corrival's retort, but the instant his old general disappeared down the hallway, the smile dropped. The silence in the living room became stifling, and the only noise that broke it - the ticking of an old antique grandfather clock in the corner - felt like the countdown before Ghastly broke down completely.
He was only barely holding himself together, and he knew it. Ghastly only managed to get this far because of God. He couldn't plan ahead, he had no idea where he would be this time tomorrow, or how he would feel, and it... it reminded him too much of the war. The war, and how little control they had over anything that happened. Friends dying. Villages burning. Chaos and destruction.
Friends disappearing to become mass murdering Necromantic sociopaths.
Slowly, stoically, Ghastly walked back by the phone to the whiskey bottle. Too late, he remembered that he left his glass back on the mantlepiece, and after a moment's debate, decided the walk was too long. He drank straight from the bottle, and sank slowly back down onto the couch.
It didn't make any sense. Even apart from all of the obvious ways, it didn't make any sense. What caused the change? Why did Skulduggery disappear? Why could he use Necromancy? Why had he gone on to join Mevolent? How the hell could he justify any of it, even if he wasn't trying to anymore? But really, the only thing Ghastly truly wanted to know, wanted to hear from Skulduggery's own mouth - or jaw - was what had brought him back. What was powerful enough to stop him, when nothing else had.
Ghastly didn't know how much time had passed, marked out by each long tick of the infernal grandfather clock. It was only when Corrival arrived back, fully dressed, that he even turned his head to look up.
It took him a moment to respond, and when he did, it was with the same abrupt tone as Corrival's. "On my way." Ghastly pushed himself back up onto his feet, and put the bottle back down onto the side table. He never in a million years would have believed that he and Corrival would cover up a crime committed by someone like Vile, and yet... what else could they do? Corrival knew as well; they couldn't let any of this get back to the Sanctuary.
Corrival's final words rang in Ghastly's head and he stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the sidetable, hissing with pain as the sharp corner dug into his side.
The pain, though, actually helped. Before the numbness could settle back in, Ghastly straightened up and let the pain in, let it flood. He didn't say anything - didn't know if he would have to or not, but he didn't nonetheless. He couldn't.
"What are we going to do with it?" he asked instead, rubbing his side. He assumed the body was Crux; Gabe would never have let Skul finish on China. Maybe the man had simply died of a heart attack, but Ghastly didn't hold out much hope. Not with Prave's phrasing - 'leaving' the body behind.