Out of the other doctors (including the fake ones) Harley had battled in the mansion, Doctor Hiry Cass had been the most challenging. An uneasy alliance that sted minutes between herself, Doctor Lecter and Phil (who wasn’t a real doctor) was barely enough to destroy her. (See Doctors Battle Royale, true believers!)

  Groaning in pain, she slipped in and out of consciousness, the fire from the mansion growing ever-distant. “Stay with me.”

  When she came to, she was ying on a bed of flowers on the forest floor, moonlight illuminating a familiar green face. Ivy sighed in relief.“Better?”“Uh-hmm.”“I need to test something.” “No more exams.” Harley groaned “Harley.” She held her face in her hand, starting point-bnk into her eyes “Say ahh.”“Ahh!” She yelled

  Ivy pulled out her phone and showed her a picture of a goofy-looking shark plushie from a certain furniture brand.“Aww. Cute little guy.”“No feelings of burning hatred?”“No, why?”

  Ivy sighed in relief, squeezing the ridge of her nose “Okay, one more test. Harley, focus.” She knelt down by her side, but still kept her distance “Bathroom. Sports. Children. School. Divorce.” She said all the words while keeping an intense stare “Ive, you’re givin’ me the creeps here. What’s goin’ on?” “Violence. Dress. Hormone.”“Ive, talk to me. I mean, actually talk to me.”“How did those words make you feel?”“Uh…Confused?”“No homicidal rage or hatred?”“I mean I get homicidal rage from time to time.” She chuckled nervously “But right now, I’m just…”Ivy took Harley’s hands in her own “I’m sorry I scared you, but I had to be sure.”

  “Sure a’ what?”“Harley, when you fought that mould monster…”“The fake doctor who worshipped a children’s author…”“Her mould got into your bloodstream.”“Got stabbed. And she tried to choke me with her tendrils.” She shrugged “But I thought I’d be immune to that stuff. All the booster shots ya gave me.”“Not this.” She gently shook her head “Mould’s not part of the green.”“But I’ve seen you control little fun guys before?”

  She let go, crossing her arms “This stuff was different, Harley. I wasn’t in the room, but I still felt it. That mould is different. Like…” She shuddered “It’s dark and twisted and it wants to corrupt everything good in this world.”

  Her gaze turned to the forest “Pnt life, animals, people. Even other fungus. It’s…” She gripped herself tightly, knees to her chest. Harley wrapped her arms around her “It’s okay, Red. Hey, that creepy cannibal killed Cass the old fashioned way ya deal with mould!”“You don’t get it. Harley this thing…I don’t think I’ve felt anything like it. And Cass was just an extension of it’s will.”“I get it, I can’t talk to pnts. I know that, but look. We can still stop it. Come on, I’ve been stabbed and poisoned before.” She smiled“It was still in your bloodstream. Sure, all the booster shots slowed it down, but it was still trying to change you. It’s gone now.”“So all those code words…”

  “I had to be sure it hadn’t reached your brain.”“My brain’s been messed with enough already. I’m fine.” She stood up, and twirled on the spot “Now let’s go kill this thing.”“Uhhh, Harley. It’s in Scotnd.”“Then let’s get there first, and then kill this thing.”

  Beyond the cobblestone streets of old Edinburgh was a pace without staff. All had been sent away. One by one, none of them could pass the tests. The butler, with hands ever slightly too small. He had to be one of them for nothing else made sense. The maid, with dyed hair. Sent away too. Had to be one of them. The record for how long staff had sted before getting kicked out for being one of them was five minutes. It hadn’t been broken in years. But she didn’t need anyone, the mould provided all.

  A middle-aged woman with mannish features whose body was covered in mould sat in a chair made of mould that extended tendrils into her back and onto her head. She just kept typing away on her phone.

  The typewriter hadn’t been touched in years, gathering dust that was food for the mould. The same story applied to her old computer. No, all the woman needed was her phone. Typing and typing away, never stopping. This was all she was now.

  "Hungry…" A distorted voice, made up of millions growled from behind her “Not to worry…” She said, bnkly, typing up a message that sent a kill-squad to remove one of them. That’d show them. The crime of breathing was a death sentence, after all.

  She gasped, feeling as one of the extensions of the mould had been snuffed out. The loss of life didn’t pain her at all, but the extension being served felt like losing a finger. Pain shot through her body.

  “Cass…” She whispered. One of her most loyal puppets, gone. But how? She checked her phone, and was easily able to get into Cass’ accounts. Not because she was good at hacking or anything, but because Cass’ password was the Mould Queen’s own name.

  The false doctor had booked an express flight to America, using a private jet that was as awful for the environment as it was fast. It’s fuel was made from the blood of sughtered manatees, something Cass seemed to have requested specifically. From there, she’d taken a taxi, who’s driver engaged in seal clubbing on the weekends (yet another request) and had been dropped off somewhere.

  The Mould Queen put the address into her phone and found a news report. It was a liberal American news channel, which angered her as that meant that the reporter wasn’t under an obligation to endanger the life of a trans person every five seconds, but the more right-leaning news sources that were to her liking, were bming the mansion burning down on genderfluid Mexicans and saying only a gun-wielding Jesus could've save them.

  The Mould Queen was a God in her own right, talk of false Gods also angered her.

  The news reporter was a young woman dressed in a suit, bck hair tied back and dark skin.

  “Fire crews aren’t letting us in. So far, there has been no confirmation on survivors and the fire crews have recovered several bodies. An anonymous source leaked the details of what happened here a few minutes ago and behind me is what I can best describe as a house of horrors. Individuals were leading people to this mansion to kill them, but not before pcing bets and forcing their victims to kill each other, with the false promise of the survivor going free. There are hundreds of victims, going back at least twenty years…”

  She pressed her earpiece.“Hold on. I’m just getting something new. Exclusive. Two women were seen fleeing the carnage, one carrying the other away from the mansion. We can confirm their identities.”

  Two images appeared on screen.

  “Pame Isley, also known as Poison Ivy; a wanted eco-terrorist. Her st known sighting was at the annual BP conference, where she brutally murdered the board of directors by drowning them in oil.” “And Harleen Quinzelle, former associate of the Joker and known accomplice to Isley. Now going by the title of Harley Quinn. Her st known crime was beating a little league coach to death. It was ter revealed he had been abusing the children, but that’s no excuse for such violence. Especially not in the middle of a tournament.”

  The Mould Queen growled, clutching the phone so tightly that it almost shattered in her hand.“Revenge…” The voice hissed in her ears “Yes. We will kill them both.”

  She smiled grimly, rexed her grip on the phone and started to type.