A Whole New World 2 (1/2)
*Ring-ring*
A sharp, familiar tone echoed in Boxxy’s mind. Technically it had been doing so for quite some time, but the shapeshifter had been systematically ignoring it for a few days straight. The shapeshifter knew full well that an incoming call from Demons ‘R’ Us was likely an emergency and that not responding to it in a timely manner was extremely ill-advised. However, in its defense, it was far too busy being depressed, apathetic, and stubborn. The emotional cocktail had turned the terrifying creature into a formless blob of doubt and self-pity.
*Ring-ring*
Yet even in that state, the call from Beyond was able to steadily get on its nerves. There was something innately upsetting about that insistent mental ringing. Whether it was the tone, volume, duration, or another factor altogether, it felt as if it got more annoying and unbearable with each repetition. Any other mortal would have likely bashed their head open on a boulder ages ago just to make it stop. Boxxy’s mind was far sturdier than most, so it had taken far longer for it to reach its breaking point.
*Click*
“Ugh… Yes?” it grumbled inwardly.
“Shit!” Carl cursed loudly. “Nigel-damnit, Boxxy! I almost forgot I had you on the other line.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, congratulations. You set a new company record for longest time taken to answer.”
“Mhm.”
“So, yeah. Listen. I got three problems in my office that won’t stop moaning at me.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yes, I mean you,” Carl’s voice became distant. “Yes, it picked up. No, you can’t- Hold on a sec, Boxxy.”
*Click*
The demon’s voice was replaced by waiting music as he, presumably, had an argument with the shapeshifter’s familiars. It seemed clear that they’d bitched at their agent until he did something about their master. At first they hadn’t known whether Boxxy had made it back or not, as the Demons ‘R’ Us line couldn’t connect to outer space. They had calmed down once Carl’s instruments showed that the abomination was once more within service range. However, the Warlock had yet to summon any of its familiars, and Gertrude couldn’t broadcast its whereabouts without them being there to serve as her eyes and ears. As such, Xera, Kora, and Drea had no idea what their master’s situation was, which had driven them frustrated, annoyed, and concerned, respectively.
*Click*
“Right then,” Carl came back on. “What’s going on, buddy?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m actually a professional yodeler,” he responded sarcastically.
The insightful devil had immediately noticed something was quite off about his client. Even while Boxxy was in a foul mood, it had never responded with those dispassionate grunts. Normally the demon wouldn’t give a damn about the mortals he spoke with, but he actually liked Boxxy. He’d stated multiple times that the shapeshifter had been the ideal client, and that was still true. Well, aside from having three insistent familiars bothering him constantly, but that was mostly beyond the monster’s control.
Of course, Carl knew better than to openly admit to caring about the murderous meat-blob.
“Okay, listen. You usually have those three out and about at any given opportunity, doing your bidding and whatnot. Your usage statistics are dropping sharply, and it’s making me look bad as your liaison. So, what’s your problem?”
“Oh… Nothing… and everything,” Boxxy responded passively.
“Uhh, alright. Care to elaborate?”
“Nah.”
“Do I need to start ringing again?”
“… I just don’t see the point.”
“To what?”
“Everything. Anything.”
“Ah. I see. You were forced to confront your own mortality, eh?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
The situation was finally starting to make sense. Carl had heard from Boxxy’s group that it had been ejected into the silent void of space. He also knew from his experience with mortals that spending extended time in total isolation and sensory deprivation was torture to the rational mind. With nothing else to turn to, one’s thoughts would inevitably drift towards existential dread, usually followed by depression. Carl was somewhat surprised that Boxxy’s peculiar mentality would submit to such a basic and mundane issue, but he wasn’t about to explore the matter. Monster psychology was not part of his job description.
“Wait, so you’ve just been moping around this whole time?”
“Yep.”
“For three whole weeks?”
“I guess.”
Indeed, it had been twenty four days since Boxxy splashed down in the ocean. It hadn’t willingly moved a muscle that entire time, choosing instead to focus on the sights and sounds of the deep in an effort to tune out its depressing thoughts. The endeavor had been… minimally successful.
“Wow. Okay. Moving on. Where are you right now?”
“The ocean.”
“Where specifically, in the ocean?”
“In a leviathan’s stomach.”
“You… what?”
“What?”
“How did you end up in a leviathan’s stomach?”
“I got swallowed.”
There was a deep sigh from the other end of the line.
“By Jigsaw’s left pancreas, we’re back to this again,” Carl grumbled quietly. “Anyway, I take it you’re in no immediate danger?”
An odd thing to ask someone who just said they’d been swallowed whole, but knowing Boxxy, the demon figured it would take a lot more than some stomach acid to actually kill it.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Carl’s guess had been right on the money, but there was more to it than that. Even though Boxxy’s mind was unwilling to move a muscle, its body moved on its own to ensure its survival. It was a situation akin to employees at a store putting in extra unpaid hours to keep the franchise afloat despite the incompetent management. All of that boiled down to Boxxy’s amorphous flesh autonomously soaking up whatever nutrients were within the leviathan’s stomach. Meanwhile its absurd constitution and vitality were able to easily outpace the damage caused by the leviathan’s digestive fluids. In summary, the shapeshifter was completely fine. If anything, the massive sea monster was the one suffering in that situation. It had, in a way, swallowed the world’s most ravenous tapeworm.
“Well, if you’re not in any rush, would you get these three out of my office already?” Carl demanded.
“No,” the shapeshifter responded curtly.
“Why not?”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“And why would that be?”
“Because there’d be no point. They’d just get sent back eventually.”
“Well, yeah. So?”
“So why should I… Actually, Carl?”
“Hm?”
“You’re a centuries-old demon, right?”
“Last I checked.”
Some part of Boxxy had realized something. If it had reached this whole existential crisis thing despite being not even four years old, then surely someone of Carl’s age would’ve been forced to confront the pointlessness of it all. Actually, the same could be said of all demons, yet none of the ones Boxxy had met were struggling with the big question. Could they have perhaps figured out something the shapeshifter hadn’t even considered? They would have had an absurd amount of time to do so, after all.
“How do you keep going?” it asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The whole existence thing. You must know that the world will die eventually. Your god will disappear, and you’ll probably go with it.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
“Then you agree that, in the grand scale of things, nothing you do actually matters.”
“I suppose.”
“Yet you keep doing the Demons ‘R’ Us thing.”
“That I do.”
“How do you do it?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, buddy,” the devil responded. “If you ask me, mulling over them cosmic quandaries isn’t gonna fill any quotas or relieve my boredom. So, I just focus on my work and partake in whatever gossip’s floating around the Beyond.”
“But nothing you do matters, so why bother with any of it?”
“Because I want to? That should be fairly obvious.”
“But-! Why?!”
Though it wasn’t visible through the interdimensional connection, Carl smiled a bit at that outburst.
“I think you’re looking at this backwards, Boxxy.”
“… What do you mean?”