"I can't do it."

I looked up, my hands still pressed to the yellow glass. 

I looked up at my executioner. My friend. My enemy. 

I looked up at the man who was seconds away from ending me. 

"What?" I asked.

"I can't do it," he repeated, his voice unwavering. He didn't sound afraid. His voice wasn't lined with disappointment. It sounded more like acceptance. 

What was he doing? Was he trying to give me hope? Was he torturing me before finally finishing me off? He JUST said all those horrible things to me.

"Perhaps that is for the best," he said. "Get lost," he said.

Now he was saying he couldn't do it?! 

I never understood Dimentio. I'd spent so long trying to get close to him since it was clear everyone else had already given up on the jester. I thought I was making progress when he suddenly appeared at my moment of weakness. I thought he was going to offer me at least a little comfort. Only instead of offering comfort, he apparently came with only one plan in mind, to kill me. 

And now he was backing out?!

"Why?!" I asked, clenching my fists. "Why come here in the first place?! Why make me think you're going to kill me?! Or, better yet, why are you pretending you can't?! We both know you can!"

The way he looked at me almost made him look small. His mask still smiled, but his eyes looked defeated. 

"I don't know. I just can't." 

He had to have been possessed or something. The Dimentio I knew would never admit to not knowing something. Although, it was very much like him to give such a vague answer. 

Still, it was frustrating. Dimentio was frustrating. This entire situation was frustrating!

He waved his hands, making the box trapping me in a cage of certain doom disappear. Then, he turned away.

"I'm sorry." He breathed, waving his hand and vanishing.

I could only stare at the spot he had occupied just a few short seconds ago.

What... the... heck.

. . .

I returned to Castle Bleck, feeling defeated. I didn't look at or talk to anyone. I was too ashamed of my failure anyway. I just went straight to my room, picked up a pencil, and opened my sketchbook.

I let my hand move on its own and I let my mind finally wander away from the complete mess my day had become. 

I was the type of person who needed to constantly be doing something in order to keep my thoughts at bay. When I wasn't out and about, I was working on a machine. When I wasn't working on a machine, I was designing blueprints for a machine. And when I wasn't doing that, I was just drawing. 

I loved drawing. I never really was one for words, so in a way, drawing felt like a form of expression. Where I lacked connections in the real world, I made up for it in art. Drawing was one of the only effective ways for me to reduce stress.

I liked building machines too, but that was different. The machines I built, like Brobot, were all being built so I could use them to help someone else's cause. When I drew, however, I was drawing for me, and only for me. 

Was I any good? I had no idea, nor did I really care. 

I was sketching some random characters when there was a knock on my door.

I let out a groan and ignored it. There were three guesses I had as to who was there. 

1. It was probably Nastasia coming in to lecture me on going to stop the heroes without the count's permission.

2. It could possibly have been Mimi or O'Chunks, there to laugh at me for failing and wrecking all the technology I had been working so hard on.

3. Maybe it was Dimentio, finally coming back to finish the job. 

Ever since he vanished from that horrible scene, I had been slightly afraid of him suddenly changing his mind and coming back. Even while drawing, I was on high alert. I knew I had no way of protecting myself against him. He was incredibly overpowered and could essentially decimate whoever he wanted with the snap of his fingers.

There was a thirty-second pause before another knock came, slightly louder than the last. I let out a huff, then dropped the sketchbook on my bed, leaving it open and storming over to the door, swinging it open.

"Just leave me- oh!" I started, biting my tongue once I realized who it was. My face went slightly pale when I looked up at the count's glowing eyes. "I-I'm sorry," I stuttered, stepping back and bowing my head slightly. "I didn't mean to raise my voice. Honest."

The count looked down at me, then nodded, stepping into my room. I immediately stepped aside. I didn't ask any questions for fear of coming off as rude again. I simply stayed silent while he looked around.

"Count Bleck will not take up much of your time. He's just wondering if you know where Dimentio has disappeared to." The count stated.

I frowned slightly.

Did Dimentio not return?

"Oh. Um... he's not here?" I asked, mentally facepalming for asking such a ridiculous question. If he was, then why would the count be coming to me asking where he was?

"No." The count replied calmly.

"Okay..." I trailed off. 

I could feel my heart rate accelerate faster and faster each second. Where could he have gone? Did he just leave entirely? What was he doing? Was he going to come back? I had so many questions!

The count waited for a moment before shaking his head and turning away from me once it had become apparent that I had no idea where Dimentio was.

"My apologies, Count Bleck sighed," the count said with a sigh. "It appears he has simply vanished. We must press onward without him."

He seemed slightly saddened by the fact, which made me wonder what was going on in his mind. He knew Dimentio wasn't dead, right? He was just missing. He probably got bored and ditched us all. In fact, if what happened between the two of us earlier meant anything, then I could probably assume that he was planning on betraying us all the way he was about to betray me, then got cold feet and just left. 

In the count's mind, though, he must have only been able to assume that the heroes got the jester. 

"You remind me of him, Mr. L," the count breathed, taking me by surprise.

"Huh?" 

"You. The two of you are very similar," he explained. "More similar than you think you are."

I cocked my head to the side slightly, which made him chuckle.

I couldn't see what was so funny. The two of us were nothing alike. He was disloyal. He was unhinged. He was powerful. He was crazy.

I was just me. 

The count smiled slightly, then looked at my bed. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to even notice him walk over and pick up my open sketchbook. 

"What are these, Count Bleck asked?"

I jumped slightly, my eyes going wide. I tried reaching for the book, only for the count to hold it just out of my reach.

"Nothing important!" I quickly exclaimed. "Could you please hand that back?"

"These are quite good," the count muttered while flipping the page, making me groan and cover my face in embarrassment. "Have you named them?"

"The drawings? No." I huffed. "Can I have that back now-"

"We shall call this one Inky." The count laughed, showing me one of my sketches of a random character I came up with earlier that day and smiling. His smile looked different than usual, I noted. Not that I cared. I was too busy feeling humiliated.

"Inky the demon?" I asked.

"Is he a demon?" The count questioned, turning the book around and looking at the drawings once again.

I let out a huff.

"Yes. Can't you see his horns?"

"Those are horns?"

"YES! What else would they be?!" I cried out.

The count shrugged with a small chuckle. "I just thought he had an oddly shaped head."

I frowned. He didn't speak in third person just then. Odd.

"Is this one a demon as well?" The count asked, pointing to the sketch on the next page.

"Her? Well, sorta," I shrugged. "She's got a halo. So... I guess she's part demon, part angel."

"Hmm. Then we shall call her Angel! Ooh, and this bunny over here is wearing a tophat. His name shall be Brooks-"

"Okay, first of all, I intended for that to be a wolf. Second of all, as fun as this is, I've gotta ask, what are you doing?!" I questioned, not sure if I was more amused or annoyed by the count's odd behavior.

He looked at me, then the emotion from his eyes slowly began to seep away, making him look more like himself.

"Ah. My apologies, breathed Count Bleck," he sighed. "I was simply... looking for a distraction."

The count closed my sketchbook, then handed it to me, bowing his head slightly.

"Count Bleck thanks you for distracting him, even if it was brief. He must now return to his work."

He smiled a slightly sad smile at me, then turned away, closing the door behind him after he left my room.

I let out a breath that I wasn't even aware I had been holding in, then fell into my bed while hugging the sketchbook to my chest.

Was the count really that upset about Dimentio disappearing, to the point where he had to distract himself by giving names to my random sketches? 

I let out a small sigh, then opened my sketchbook, looking at the three characters he had named.

Character 1. Inky. I had drawn a small cartoonish demon with big eyes and a crooked smile. He wore a cloak similar to the count's, now that I thought about it. 

I smiled to myself, then drew a monocle over one of his eyes, snickering slightly. Then, I labeled the page.

Inky. Information: Demon. Troublemaker. Hug Deprived. Loves Angel.

I shrugged and turned the page.

Angel. Information: Demon/angel. Sweet and Gentle. Loves Giving Hugs. Can be sassy.

I laughed, imagining the two characters interacting. One of them, hug deprived. The other, having hugs to spare. It was childish, I know, but creating random scenarios in my mind helped me take my thoughts away from everything going on in the real world.

I turned the page and started labeling the last character the count had named for me.

Brooks. Information: Wolf. Shy Gentleman. Inky's best friend. Loves-

I paused. What should this guy love? He was the best friend, so he would likely be the comedic relief/third wheel.

So, I wrote down the most random thing I could think of.

LOVES Bacon Soup.

Perfect.

Now I had a random group of characters.

I rolled my eyes at how childish I was acting, then closed my sketchbook, setting it on the nightstand next to my bed. I leaned back and folded my arms behind my head, yawning to myself.

It had been a very long and stressful day. But hey, at least I was still alive.

I couldn't believe that just a few hours ago, I was standing in that execution box, trapped with no escape. It felt unreal.

I still wasn't sure how to process what happened. I had so many questions. Yet, the only person who could answer them was gone.

Where did he even go? Was he just too ashamed to show his face here after nearly betraying me? Was he afraid of what the count would say to him? 

"Coward," I muttered under my breath. 

If he was going to do crazy stuff like that, he should have at least had the decency to explain what was going on in that sick, twisted mind of his. Did he really hate me that much, to the point where he was a finger snap away from sending me to the aftergame? Or was he just as insane as everyone else saw him?

I didn't always see him as crazy. I wanted to give him a chance, truth be told. I saw the way everyone else acted around him and figured that maybe he wasn't a lunatic. I thought that maybe all he needed was a friend.

I knew better now. He was clearly crazy. Though I wasn't sure what kind of crazy he was. If he had completely lost it, then he would have killed me right then and there.

But he didn't.

Grambi, why was Dimentio so difficult to understand?