Chapter Text
I failed.
I failed all of them…
Choked sobs escape the old troll as he lies down on the floor, clutching a photo album into his chest as if it was the last thing keeping him together.
He feels his surroundings rumble ever so slightly before hearing the pained cries of his armadillo bus companion.
“Not now Rhonda…please I just…I need some space girl,” He manages to tell her through his cries.
The creature makes a small whine as she makes a stop, parking herself. From the familiar scent of trees and rain, John Dory could tell she situated herself in a secluded part of the forest, most likely waiting for the afternoon rain to stop. She whines some more, ever concerned about his well being.
“Rhonda, my sweet girl. They didn’t deserve that, they didn’t deserve any of that,” he mutters. “I’m sorry…I’m so so sorry…”
(A few hours ago)
John Dory didn’t know what to expect as he was arriving at the entrance of the troll tree. Thanks to his experience navigating through the wilderness, he’s gotten fairly adept at going through Bergen town without detection.
“I think being away for a while would do your head good Jonathan.”
He may not want to admit it, but Rosiepuff was right. Being able to be alone at the Neverglades really helped him to just breathe and really get to recollect himself. Now that his head was clearer he thinks he can finally face his family again, he just hopes the boys would still be willing to hear him out.
His boys…
He thinks about that night often, how he didn’t have the right mind during their argument, leading him to accidentally say things he shouldn’t have, hurting their feelings when he already knew he was the one with a problem.
“I just hope they’d forgive me.”
He lands down on to the grass, albeit not as gracefully as he expected, landing on the ground with a thud after missing on grabbing his last vine.
“Ughhh…damn you reflexes…” He groans as he stretches his body.
He surveys the immediate area, he’s fairly certain their pod should only be a few minutes away, however something feels…off for some reason. Shrugging his shoulders, he sets off.
…
…
“Ok…maybe there is something weird going on…”
John Dory has never seen the troll tree this quiet before, usually you would always happen to come across a troll either singing, dancing, or playing around every few corners. But the lack of any sign of activity is starting to concern him.
It only gets worse once he sees their pod.
Even from a few feet away, John Dory could already tell how ravaged and weathered their home was. Eyes wide with panic , he sprints into the entrance, opening the door with a slam.
“Aun-Grandma Rosiepuff!?”
“Spruce!?”
John Dory yells out from the living room. When he gets no response, the worst starts to fester into his mind.
No.
No..
No-No-No-No-
He attempts to find them in the kitchen, only to be met with the same result.
“Clay!?”
“Floyd!?”
In a last ditch effort, he runs to their shared bedroom. But ultimately it was for naught.
“Bitty B!? Please is anyone here!?”
Silence.
He was met with nothing but silence.
This can’t be. Did the Bergens-
He pulled his hair and closed his eyes, unable to entertain that train of thought.
There’s no way, Trollstice was still a month away, and I was only gone for three weeks!
He runs out of the pod, swinging the branches with his vines and his hair until he reaches the outside.
Once he’s out in the open, he finally comes across the holes in the ground.
Holes big enough to be made by hands.
Holes that looked like they were made as a last ditch effort to grab something underground.
Something like escaping trolls
Trolls like his family…
How unfortunate Jonathan.
John Dory’s eyes widen as he sees four figures in front of him, trolls. He feels like he’s being grabbed by the neck as the shadow with dark blue hair comes face to face with him with a looming grin.
I already told you didn’t I? All you do is bring misfortune to the family. And now because of you, they were left to die along with all the other trolls, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
“No…I…I-don’t-“ John Dory tries to whimper out through his suffocation, despairing as he hears the other shadows laughing at him.
You should have just stayed a good boy, if you always listened to me things wouldn’t have to be this way, everything could have been PERFECT.
John Dory couldn’t breathe, he feels himself slowly start to lose sight of reality.
In an attempt to break free from his thoughts, he decided there was only one thing he could do. Taking a pocket knife, he slices into one of his hands, in the process letting out one of the most painful sour notes that a troll has ever made.
Unfortunately for him, this catches the attention of the Bergens.
“Troll?”
“Did I hear that right?”
“Is that a troll?”
“There’s one near the tree! I can see one!”
He had to run NOW.
With adrenaline pumping he starts using his hair and his grappling hook to go to the rooftops. He starts running and swinging from house to house, while dodging the Bergen’s attempts at throwing objects at him as they chase him from below.
He feels the pain in his legs start to rack up, he feels the cut in his hand continue to burn, he thinks his head and his heart might give out any second now, but he had to keep going, he was almost at the edge of Bergen Town!
His hope doesn’t go unrewarded as he sees Rhonda near the exit.
“Rhonda!!!” he shouts with the his remaining breath, fortunately the creature immediately goes into high alert, locking eyes with the troll and seemingly understanding what she needs to do. She opens her mouth wide as John Dory jumps from the wall, barely evading a flying knife midair.
John lands inside with a thud, but forces his body up on last time to get to the drivers seat.
“I’m sorry for this girl, but I have no choice.” He says panting, as he gives the “hustle” button a desperate slam.
The Armadillo bus enters hustle mode, leaving only John to slowly lose consciousness from exhaustion, the voices of angry Bergens slowly fading away.
With his bleeding hand now dried up, and the rest of his body feeling sore beyond belief, John looks back on the memory with a frown. It had only been a few hours since the whole ordeal, but he couldn’t focus on how he almost got captured by those troll eating monsters.
No, an even grimmer reality started to sink in.
He feels something draining from his body as he murmurs silent apologies into the photos in his hands, with the only thing drowning the background being the sound of rain and thunder.
They were all dead.
He couldn’t be there for them when they needed him most.
He could never make amends with his boys.
But worst of all,
Dad was right all along.