John kills Hussie.

It must have been hours since he began, hours, minutes, seconds, when all was said and done what did it matter now? After everything it was finally about to end. He would at last invade the sanctuary of the monster that had caused both him and his friends so much suffering, and then kill him. John continued to pound away at the glass wall that separated him and the realm of the wicked god king. Using his wind powers he relentlessly pushed and whacked at the glass, never once ceasing in his efforts, and increasingly pushing both himself and his abilities further and further past their respective limits. At first he had seemingly made no progress, the screen remaining as unchanged as ever yet after some unknown strech of time he began to see small hairline cracks appear upon it's surface and knew he was little by little making some progress and pushed onward. Now the wall moan and wailed in agony, it's structure being pushed to it's own limit. The frame twisted and contorted in ways probably not intended by it's designer and the glass panel was now covered by a web of cracks and splints, small splinters of glass falling free with every second of pressure exerted against it.

With one last final push the glass shattered, the internal frame that had previous held the four panes bending with it. The screen luckily remanded powered on, and where the glass had once before stood, now existed a entrance to the land of the main enemy. John gathered what little reserves of strength he had left and putting aside whatever fear or apprehension he may had felt, floated in, a look of determination upon his face and a feeling of resolve; greater then when he had fought Jack after the murder of his father, greater then when he had started the scratch, greater then anything he ever felt before. He silently swore to both himself and his friends, he would kill the mad murderer this day or die trying.

As John wisped through the mansion's halls he trying to imagine what kind of being this god king was. He had thought Jack was evil and the Batterwitch vile, and even Lord English had made his very skin crawl. Yet this man, if he could even call him such, was the most pure evil he had ever encountered. He had thought his other enemies as ever before, yet this foe had managed to make John realize just what the term truly meant. The most vicious and and malevolent acts of cruelty came easily to this man. One could even say he was evil itself. And his name was Hussie.
Adorned upon the walls was various portraits of horses that had looked as if the painting had been put through several photoshop filters, turning them into some equine abomination. Other oddities included various jars of dice and other random novelties he couldn't nor wished to identify. Whoever this bastard was, John could certain agree that he had a rather unorthodox taste in nicknacks.

After a while, he finally came upon a special and distinct door, adorned with the face of a man with a distinct set of lips, surrounding him were various horses. Above the door was a single word emblazoned in large garish letters, "Hussie." This had to his personal quarters John thought to himself. he steeled his nerves and after taking a short breath blasted the door down.

Before him was a short prospitan women rummaging around the room fulfilling various unknown tasks. To the side was Hussie himself, busy tapping on a keyboard, dressed in a rainbow colored shirt with various horses and dolphins on it. He addressed the women. "Ms. Paint, can you get the door please?" John rushed towards Hussie and gathered a ball of wind within his hands, ready to blast the monster away. Hussie finally took notice of John and jumped out of his seat, pulling a broom out of thin air and began to speak to him. "Shit! I thought I killed you! Well, I mean, enough. Well whatever. HAVE AT YOU!"

Hussie lunged at John, raising his broom upward, ready to strike John. John blasted the the concentrated air back at Hussie, sending him flying against the wall. Hussie collapsed to the floor and weakly attempted to stand before collapsing once more. Weakly he spoke, "But... Vriska.. I was so close...." And then gave out one last final breath.

John was at first surprised, he had expected someone so troublesome to have been more of a challenge, yet sighed with relief; better not look a gift horse in the mouth as they say. He turned around and left the way he came, eventually returning back home, a feeling of ease overcoming him. It was over. At last it was over, his friends and him could be free. They were finally free. Back at the mansion Hussie awoken and dusted himself off, returning to his artistic endeavors. "Ms. Paint could you clean this mess up for me?" He smiled to himself and began the first steps of his true magnum opus. "The magical humanimal adventures of sorcerious Jack and his talking steed!"