This is the sequel to From the Mouths of Infants, titled Comes the Truth. Get it? "From the mouths of infants comes the truth". :D Yeah, that was actually my brother's idea, mostly. Anyway, this happens one year later.

Another year gone by, another day spent at the cemetery. And another day listening to the annoying demon complain.

"Do we have to do this every year?" Cthulhu mock-whined from where he sat at the base of the wall.

Putting his beret back on, Flippy turned to glower at him. "No," he answered angrily. "We don't. You can do whatever the hell you want. You think I like having to put up with you? Just remember that you chose to bother me, so don't complain. I'm the one who should be complaining."

"Which you do. Every day."

"I have every right to complain!" Flippy snapped. "Do you have any idea what it's like to let every day go by knowing that if you hear a loud noise or see anything that looks like blood, you'll start killing? What it's like to go through your life knowing you'll just die every day? No! You don't! You don't care! You like to see people in pain; I don't. I just want to be normal!"

"Well, you have to admit that sometimes it's fun," Cthulhu wheedled.

Flippy rolled his eyes heavenward, as if seeking assistance from the clouds. "Good lord, Cthulhu, you're not still throwing that argument at me? How many times do I have to repeat myself? No! I hate killing; I've always hated killing!"

"Which is why you need me," Cthulhu answered. "There's no room for compassion in war."

"WE'RE NOT IN THE FREAKING WAR ANYMORE, CTHULHU!" Flippy roared. It was a good thing the cemetery was empty. "WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT? Look, I realize I needed you during the battles, but I really don't appreciate you killing my friends over and over again!"

"Over and over again," Cthulhu repeated. "Key phrase, that. They don't stay dead. Why do you care?"

"Because..." Flippy broke off and leaned against the wall. The memory of his conversation with Cub came back to him. "Because I hate the way things are."

"The way things are? THE WAY THINGS ARE?!" Cthulhu let out a bark of laughter. "I don't believe it! A guy gets to come back after every death, and he hates the way things are! That's funny, Flippy. That's real funny."

"It's not funny!" Flippy argued. "Things would just be so much better if--"

"Better?" Cthulhu echoed. "What could possibly be better than being immortal?"

"But I'm not immortal! They are!" Flippy gestured to the wall of names.

"Them? They're dead!"

"Exactly!" Flippy replied with a nod. "They're fine! They can't die anymore. Me, however..." He looked away. "I die all the time."

"And you come back to life. Why does it still bother you?" Cthulhu asked scornfully.

"Because..." Because we're like those fake flowers we put on graves. We're not real, Flippy thought, but said out loud, "Because the only reason we live is because we die. Because we know someday it'll be over, and we won't have to worry about anything anymore. Now... we have nothing left to live for."

So that's the end of my rather... sappy story. Is it just me, or does this remind you of Tuck Everlasting? :P Oh well. I enjoyed writing it, in any case.

At your disposal (sort of),

Adderstar of ValorClan