Gloom's consciousness woke slowly to the sticky pulling of the obelisk. It stood before him, casting a larger shadow than all of the mangroves and their roots put together. Honey glued his eyes into staring at the swirling, glowing shapes. Sigils, shapes, nothing made sense yet they commanded his undivided attention. Riveted to the spot, the world slow down to him and the Obelisk, his obvious discomfort non-existant as this was a dream world. He could not turn his head, nor move his body from its fixed state, but in his periphery, he viewed the wasteland that was this ghost world. A strand of sticky lifeline anchors him to the obelisk and with it, he feels the internal rot festering, purifying and negating his inner core. It is slowly, but efficiently decimating who he is and with that, his ties to Doom and Look-See. If he stayed longer, the wrongness would touch them with its inky thieving tendrils. Quietly, he counted. One became ten and 20 eclipsed soon after until he reached more than necessary. Closing his eyes proved futile as thick honey glued him. The glowing symbols taunted him. Gloom breathed in. This obelisk was useless. Unnecessary. Unimportant, but a pest that kept him glued to this shadowland.
A small eternity passed.
He had closed one eye. The pull lessened.
He couldn't even hear Doom's smile anymore. Slowly he was losing himself to the thing that possessed his daytime nightmare. He couldn't even remember the shade of Look-See's hair for all he remembered was the blank milkiness of her eyes that colored his current landscape.
With sounds not unlike those of breaking bone, he closed his remaining eye and wretched back only to fall forward in heavy air currents. Rapidly, forcefully they pushed against his hollowed cheeks and determination-crusted eyes. He fought and the force doubled its efforts.
He paid the price. Liquid gushed forth his nostrils and no longer closed maw. He gaped for breath like a fish that suddenly found itself bereft of its lifewater. His thoughts rushed to the forefront, all swirling and not making much sense. He waited for the calm to descend as more red life water left him. He pushed to his feet, eyes still closed, he abandoned useless fear in preference for drive. It was the hearties that bound them. Though Doom had disappeared and ascended, Look-See forged her own path through the swamp, not as neat and tidy but not without that innate grace she was born with. And she was magnificent. Still with a penchant for flowers, these weren't artfully pinned back, but no matter, they made her seem more. more alive.
While Gloom wasted away in this hell hole. He had to find them. He bolted from where he was, heedless of where he was, only sure of where he needed to go. The truth no longer thrills him, but pushes his heart forward. He's danced this dance before, and grappled the magic of his family binds provided. He hurled forward into the pitch darkness of his mind and found a realm of weightlessness welcomed him.
Time passed even slower here, the obelisk punishing him for abandoning it. Eyes shut, he bled until they crusted over and he could see no more until his heart stilled to almost a silent beat. He stayed that way, hoping for an end to the semi-life he had. Instead he heard the droning of a large wasp and woke, flakes of red littering his eyes.