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neerasrealm · 4 years

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Ghost Hunt - Part 2/2

Part two to this story. It’s not necessary to read but you’ll actually know the characters if you read it so yeah.

Word count: 2833

He'd been very, very careful to make sure nobody found out.

His leave had been casual. He'd told them he was going out with friends, which, technically, was correct. He'd taken the family car and even done a full loop of the city so that, when he pulled up on the roadside behind the silver sedan, it'd seem like he'd come from one of the local neighborhoods rather than the forest that bordered both sides of the road.

"There he is!" Vanessa called as he climbed out of the minivan. He smiled at her and nodded at Scott, leaning on the bonnet of Vanessa's car. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry, traffic was out to get me I guess." Liu replied with a shrug. That was a lie. He'd left late on purpose to make it seem like he lived further away.

"If you'd have been any later the sun would've gone down." Scott said. He looked up at the dim dusk sky, adjusting the brim of his baseball cap.

"Sorry, sorry." Liu apologised again. Vanessa climbed off her car and walked to the short metal fence separating the road from the forest. She stepped over it and looked at the boys.

"Are you two comin' or what?" She asked. Scott climbed off the bonnet of her car and stepped over the fence too. The two of them looked at Liu expectantly. He walked over and carefully stepped over the fence. His two friends smiled.

They were in the forest. No backing out now.

"Whaddya think we're gonna find, Liu?" Scott asked as they walked into the forest, wading through bushes and brambles.

"I dunno. Bigfoot?" Liu replied jokingly. His two friends laughed. Vanessa reached into her back pocket and pulled out a ziplock bag. She unrolled it and pulled out what looked like a cigarette. It took Liu a couple moments to realise it was a joint.

"Want one?" She asked the two of them. Liu shook his head. He didn't smoke, anything, at all.

"Maybe later." Scott said. Vanessa shrugged and lit up her joint. Absentmindedly, Liu wondered if someone from the mansion would be able to smell it. He quickly dismissed the thought. They were far, far away. Not even Seedeater or Smile would smell them.

And Liu was right. Seedeater couldn't smell them. Because Seedeater was at home. However, Smile wasn't. He was sitting contently at his master's side. His master was, of course, Liu's brother. Jeff. He was mindlessly stabbing the ground with a kitchen knife he kept under his bed for emergencies. This wasn't an emergency, he just needed it for the prank they were planning to pull off.

In a small clearing, just outside the mansion's invisible barrier, sat Jeff, Smile, Ben, EJ, Toby, Sally, LJ, The Rake and Bob. All of them waiting patiently for the signal for their plan to begin.

"Hey, you see em yet?" Toby asked. He was looking up a tree, dressed in his favorite hoodie, his orange goggles and his signature face mask. In each of his gloved hands he held a hatchet.

"Nope." EJ replied from up in the tree. He paused, his tail swishing. He sniffed, then lifted his mask up, sniffing some more.

"Ya smell em, junior?" LJ asked in his deep, raspy voice. He was in the middle of styling Sally's hair to make her look as scary as possible. Complete with fake knots and a few branches and leaves stuck in, just to make her look like she'd been roughed up.

"Someone's smoking weed." EJ replied.

Ben let out a singular laugh. "Blaze it." He said. Jeff, who was next to him, snickered. So did Toby despite the fact that he was in his twenties and should've probably been more mature.

EJ sniffed some more until he finally found what he was looking for. The smell of popcorn and responsibility. "That's Liu!"

The creeps all stood to their feet, excited. EJ dropped from the tree and clapped his hands together.

"Y'all know the drill."

"Well this isn't very eventful." Liu said. "Maybe we should head back."

"Aw c'mon, at least give the monsters a chance to spook us Liu." Scott said. Vanessa snickered, but it was interrupted by a noise from behind them. Something rustling the leaves. The three of them whirled around to catch whatever it was, but it was gone.

"Uh- probably a bird." Liu said. Vanessa grinned.

"The monsters heard ya Liu! Now they're mad!" She gave him a devious look. Liu tried to look unamused but it was obvious he was unnerved.

"Yeah Liu," a high pitched, raspy voice from behind them said. "The monsters heard you."

Liu knew the voice of Bob well enough to know it was him before he turned around. Still, he whipped his head around just in time to see the grey, armless creature dart across their line of vision and disappear into the forest again. Liu stared in shock. How was Bob of all people here?! Who else was in on this? Oh- ohh no-

"What the fuck was that?!" Scott gasped, stumbling back.

‘’We should leave.’’ Liu said. He grabbed Vanessa’s arm and turned to walk away, only to hear Scott scream behind him. He whirled around just in time to see Scott be yanked up into the trees by a black and white blur. Scott’s terrified screams faded into the distance. Whoever had grabbed him was bringing him away, which meant- ‘’ohh...fuck-!’’ Liu cursed under his breath.

‘’L-Liu…’’ Vanessa said beside him. She sounded terrified. He looked at her, then slowly turned to where her terrified gaze rested. He was greeted by a gigantic red dog with a mane of black hair. It grinned with far too many teeth and barked. Liu looked at Vanessa.

She had a phobia of dogs. Somehow they had figured this fact out.

‘’That’s just mean.’’ Liu thought to himself. He stepped in front of Vanessa. She gripped his shoulders like he was a human shield. ‘’Nice doggy…’’ Liu murmured, backing up. Smile’s tail wagged. He barked, then charged at them. ‘’Nonononono!’’ Liu yelped, quickly turning and running in the opposite direction. He’d been tackled by Smile before and he definitely wasn’t in the mood to be suffocated in the hellhound’s fur. He heard Vanessa scream behind him and run after him.

Liu kept running until he heard a familiar whistle that he knew for a fact was the signal to have Smile leave them be. Jeff. Of course he was in on this, why wouldn’t he be? He slowed down and doubled over, panting for breath.

‘’What the hell was that?!’’ Vanessa gasped behind him.

‘’The hound of the baskervilles?’’ Liu replied sarcastically.

‘’That’s not funny!’’ she yelped back. Liu grunted. ‘’We gotta get out of here- w-we’ll call the police, they’ll find Scott.’’

Liu looked around suspiciously, throwing angry looks at the bushes. He stood up slowly. ‘’C’mon guys,’’ he thought. ‘’What’ve you got for us?’’

He heard raspy breathing from the bushes in front of him. His eyes snapped up and he stared as a figure emerged. Pale skin pulled taut over long, unnaturally shaped bones. Bright, sunken eyes that stared straight into Liu. The creature panted as it limped towards them on all fours. Vanessa shrieked.

‘’I-It’s the-!’’

‘’Rake!’’ Liu hissed, barely concealing his anger. The Rake grinned at him with a surprising lack of teeth. He was having the time of his life just fucking with him, wasn’t he?

The Rake lunged at Liu, who skittered back into Vanessa. The two stumbled and fell into a tall, soft figure behind them.

‘’Hey guys…’’ The voice was deep and surprisingly friendly sounding. Big, strong hands came down, gripping their shoulders roughly. Liu looked to the side and saw claws. ‘’Where’re ya going? Won’t you at least stay for,’’ EJ’s face leaned in between the two of them. His mask was pulled up to expose his mouth, showing sharp teeth that he licked with three black tongues. ‘’A bite?!’’ He snarled, grinning. Liu could’ve kicked him for making such a bad pun.

Vanessa screamed and they were shoved forward. She took off running. Where to, Liu didn’t know, but Rake definitely wasn’t going to let him lag behind too much because he snarled and lunged at him again. Liu had no choice but to let Rake chase him off to join up with her again.

They stumbled into a clearing. Vanessa looked terrified, panting and looking around. She clung to Liu’s arm. ‘’What the hell was that?!’’ She gasped.

‘’The Kidney Kreature.’’ Liu replied dryly. He looked around. It didn’t take long for the next part of this ‘prank’ to kick off. The bushes around them ruffled. He heard a familiar cackle.

‘’Well what’ve we got here…?’’ Out of the bushes emerged Jeff, in all his burnt glory. He grinned at the two of them.

Liu did actually get surprised when Toby dropped out of the trees above them. He hung upside down, peering at them through his goggles. ‘’I dunno Jeff,’’ He said. ‘’Looks like a couple of kids that won’t be missed,’’ he reached up and pulled down his mask, exposing the gash in his cheek. ‘’I think they could use a smile, huh?’’

Jeff cackled and lunged at them. Vanessa shrieked and ran off. Jeff, surprisingly, chased after her. He was having way too much fun with this. Liu had to force himself not to yell ‘’Don’t run with knives!’’ after him. He instead looked at Toby.

‘’...How are you hanging up there?’’

EJ appeared out of the tree, hanging next to Toby. ‘’I’m holding him up.’’ He said. Toby looked at him, surprised, then fell out of the tree. Liu sighed and walked off after Vanessa again. Admittedly he was having a bit of fun, it was like being in a haunted house! Except all the actors are your roommates. Actually I take that back, that might be scarier than actual actors.

He jogged up to Vanessa, who was sitting on the ground besides a tree, sobbing. Liu frowned and crouched down. ‘’H-Hey, are you alright?’’ oh geez, had Jeff gotten carried away?

Vanessa looked up at him, then, sniffling, pointed a shaking hand at something. He looked over and saw Scott’s hat, hanging off a low hanging branch. It was splattered in something red.

‘’H-He’s dead, isn’t he…?’’ Vanessa sobbed. Liu walked over to the hat and poked the red substance, then licked it off his finger.

‘’...Vanessa…?’’

‘’Huh?’’

‘’...This is strawberry syrup.’’

Vanessa looked like she'd never heard of strawberry syrup before in her life. Liu had to force himself not to crack up laughing at her expression. Instead, he grabbed Scott's hat off the branch.

"Cmon, we gotta find him."

"Are you crazy?! W-We gotta get out of here, Liu!" Vanessa yelped back. Liu walked over to her and held out his hand.

"Just trust me." He said softly. Vanessa sniffled and grabbed his hand, hugging his arm. Liu pat her head.

"Y'know y-you're a lot braver than I thought, Liu." She murmured. Liu looked away, smiling a bit.

"You don't know the half of it." He muttered before beginning to walk off towards where he assumed the next group would be. As they walked, Liu thought about who they'd meet next. He was- actually having a surprising amount of fun with this. He smiled to himself.

As they got deeper into the woods they heard carnival music. Liu immediately knew who they were going to find next. Suppressing a grin, they found their way to a clearing that was decorated with fairy lights. In front of them was a small, red and white striped pedestal. On the pedestal stood a tall figure wearing his best striped socks and playing "ring around the rosie" on his beloved accordion.

Laughing Jack.

Slowly, the clown turned, giving them a sharp-toothed grin. "Well 'ello there kiddos." He greeted, his voice deep and gravelly. He didn't even have to try to sound intimidating. He just was. "Wha're ye doin' ou' 'ere? Come fer a show?" He stepped off his pedestal towards them. "Or maybe…" he purred. "Ye've come fer this lad 'ere?"

With a snap of his fingers, there was a loud, masculine yell, and Scott dropped out of the trees. He hung upside down by his ankles, his arms bound to his sides by rope. "Guys!" He yelled "Help!"

Liu heard a thump beside him and looked over. A knife lay on the ground. He looked over at the bush near it and saw Jeff grin at him. He gave him a thumbs up, then his again. Liu smirked a little bit.

Oh, so he got to play the hero? Alright...if that's what they wanted from him.

"You get away from him!" Liu yelled. LJ grinned. "Let us go, you monster!"

Jack chuckled softly. His eyes fluttered closed and he looked down at the ground, still laughing. "Ohh ye crack me up," he murmured. "If ye're so brave…" his head snapped up, his eyes becoming wide. "HOW ABOU' YE FIGH' FER 'IM?!"

Out of the bushes leapt Ben and Sally, looking bloody and bruised, like the undead beings they were. Liu dashed to the side, grabbing the knife from the ground. Ben leapt at him, Liu's knife clashed with Ben's plastic master sword. The two of them pretended to fight until Liu heard Vanessa scream. He looked over to see Sally levitating in front of her, laughing like she was having the time of her life.

"Get away from her!" He yelled. Sally's head jerked around, looking at him at an unnatural angle human necks definitely couldn't achieve. She laughed louder and Liu found it hard to keep his cool. "Vanessa! Run!" He yelled. Vanessa responded by screaming and darting off into the trees. The others would likely help lead her out to safety. Liu darted backwards quickly, Ben and Sally closing in on him.

Liu looked at Scott, still hanging upside down, then at Jack. Ben and Sally nodded at him and Liu leapt forward, pushing past them. He slashed the ropes holding Scott, who fell to the ground with a yelp.

"Scott," Liu panted because all this running was actually tiring him out. "Stay close to me, okay?"

"W-Whatever you say man!" Scott yelped, looking around in terror. Liu had always been a quiet, polite guy. When did he become some monster fighting badass?!

"Hyaa!" Ben leapt at Liu, the knife and sword clashing again. Ben smiled up at him. Liu smiled back at him. Then remembered he was supposed to be fighting for his life. Sally flew at him, pushing him back. Liu grunted.

"Shite!" He heard LJ hiss when he tripped and fell backwards. He was grabbed by the back of his jacket and lifted up. Liu looked around, then spotted Scott, staring at him in terror.

"Don't worry about me! Run for it, dude!" Liu yelped.

"We'll get you help!" Scott yelled as he ran off. As soon as he was gone, Liu was placed onto the ground.

"That was great!" Sally chirped. Liu smiled down at her.

"When did you get so good at acting, bro?" Jeff asked as he stepped out of the bushes. Liu shrugged.

"Guess I work well under pressure."

"Well I'd say!" Toby piped up. "You were great, man!"

"Looks like you impressed your lady friend too." Bob said from where he sat at the base of a tree. Rake was curled up next to him looking pleased with himself. Liu rolled his eyes. He huffed and looked at the group, hands on his hips.

"So who told you guys we were coming out here?" He asked, looking around accusingly. "Cmon, spit it out."

"It was me." A voice said behind him. Liu looked behind him at Momo, who had emerged from- well, somewhere. She waved at him a little bit.

"Momo…" Liu sounded disappointed. He frowned at her. "I trusted you."

"It's not my fault! EJ bribed me!" She pointed accusingly at the masked demon, who looked offended and betrayed.

Liu sighed. He looked around the group angrily. "I hid this from you guys for a reason. I can't risk my friends finding out about you all. You know that." He said firmly. The creeps all looked a little saddened and looked away.

"Sorry bro…" Jeff murmured.

"...it was pretty funny though." Liu added. Toby broke into a grin.

"Heck yeah it was!" He exclaimed. "Didja see how scared that girl was?! And I didn't even drop my hatchets!" It suddenly occurred to Liu that it would've been very easy for Toby's tics to make him throw one or more of his hatchets at him or Vanessa.

"You were great, tobes." He replied. Toby clapped his hands together in glee. Liu sighed tiredly and looked around at his family. "...did any of you guys get that on camera?" He asked.

"I did!" Momo chirped. Liu grinned.

"Ohhh I gotta see that."

#creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta fanfiction #liu woods #jeff the killer #jeffery woods #ticci toby #toby rogers #sally williams #the rake #bob creepypasta #eyeless jack #smile dog #smile.jpg #ben drowned #laughing jack

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lookbluesoup · 5 years

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Whumptober 21 - Laced Drink

Set a short while after my “Heaven’s Do Not Fall” fic, if you’re following the timeline :D

----

Bunker Hill. If you were after rumors, and Piper was always after rumors, you couldn’t pick a much better fishing spot. Especially this time of year, when the biggest caravans came through peddling news from as far off as the Capital Wasteland and Saint John.

Truth be told she was more interested in gossip of the local variety. As the Minutemen polished their name and the Brotherhood’s incessant meddling continued to alter the comfortable indigence of the Commonwealth, there was certainly plenty to write home about. And Bunker Hill would undoubtedly be buzzing over these new developments.

More than that, Institute spies must be present at a gathering of this size. Anything she could send back to Nate was worth a little digging. The last few weeks had been hard on him. Severe storms from the Glowing Sea put a full stop on the search for Virgil, and she could relate well enough to the frustration inspired by a lack of momentum.

She kept her ear to the ground as she made her way through shuffling masses. God, what a crowd. The Hill must be well past overflowing by now, and more traders came funneling through the gate every day. She’d be lucky to find a seat at Savoldi’s. Or any bar within the fence, really.

Something yanked at her arm.

“Hey-!” Expecting a pickpocket or a clumsy drunk, Piper spun to meet a wet nose and big furry ears instead. Not a person at all. “Dogmeat?” She stared incredulously, leaning down to pet him with a confused half-laugh. “Hey, boy. What’s the story?”

The shepherd whined, nipping at her glove with a low growl before shuffling away and looking back expectantly, tail wagging.

“Is Blue with you?”

Dogmeat barked, startling a passing couple who threw disfavorable scowls Piper’s way. She smiled apologetically, and then ignored them.

“What is it, boy?” She asked, following as the dog spun and led her toward the Boston gate. Watchmen eyed her but made no comment as she crossed the town boundary and into the night. A bad idea, really. Bunker Hill’s guarantee of hospitality to traders and raiders alike ended past the border.

“Not the craziest thing I’ve done…” She muttered, glancing back at the white spire of the monument before setting off after Dogmeat.

It didn’t take long to find what the hound was so interested in. He took her down a gloomy alley half a block from the lights and din, where he stopped to bark insistently at what looked like a silhouetted corpse drooping into a stagnant puddle.

Piper covered her nose with an arm. “Whew, that is rank.”

The body shifted.

She started, jerking back several steps with alarm and pulling her firearm half from the holster. It seemed hard to believe a feral could wander so close without being spotted; she wasn’t about to take any chances. She preferred keeping all ten fingers and four limbs, thanksverymuch.

But Dogmeat wasn’t aggressive. Only faced Piper again and growled and whined.

Someone in trouble, then. Still holding the grip of the pistol, she edged back forward. “Hey, you alive over there?”

The glint of something metallic caught her eye in the faint light, and after a moment of scrutiny she realized the stranger had a Pip-Boy on their arm.

And they weren’t a stranger at all.

“Blue?” She sputtered in alarm, closing the space between them abruptly and kneeling down when he didn’t respond. He smelled like death. Looked like it, too. Actually, she was pretty sure she’d walked through super mutant camps more aromatic than her friend in his puddle of - God, what was he even laying in? She didn’t want to know. “Can you hear me? Are you hurt?” She asked, scanning him for injuries.

Bruised eyelids labored open, and Nate’s bloodshot gaze studied her blankly, as if he couldn’t quite tell who or even what knelt before him.

“It’s me, Blue. It’s Piper.”

His head rolled back into a broken smile, drawling hoarsely, “Pipeer. Fancy - ur - meeting you. Here.”

A thick waft of alcohol stung her nose. “Jesus.” He was completely sauced. Drinking wasn’t unusual for him these days, but he typically had a little more tact about it.

Dogmeat let out a low whine, crouching in front of Nate and licking at his sweaty face.

Nate lifted a hand. Dropped it again. “Mnph.” Then he puked. Bile, mostly. Hardly anything at all dribbled down his chin in a bubbly mess. He shuddered faintly, and even in the dark she could tell he was much too pale.

Piper swallowed. “Blue, you don’t look so good.”

“M’fine.”

“What have you been drinking?”

“Ii’m - fiiiine.” He garbled.

“Yeah, and I’m the mayor of Goodneighbor.” The only bottle she could find nearby that might’ve belonged to him was an empty Bobrov’s. She sniffed the lip of it. Blanched. “Where’d you get this?”

“Army requisition.” He explained unhelpfully, closing his eyes again. Even his breathing sounded sticky. “My-y friend, o-over there.”

They were alone in the alley. A mote of solitary trash tumbled down broken concrete, tugged by a bleak wind. Glancing behind, Piper wrapped an arm under his limp shoulders, towing him upright. “We need to get you to a doctor. Before whoever laced your drink comes back to finish the job.”

#whumptober2019 #no.21 #reaaaallly wanted to do more with this one #but it's late and I have an early day tomorrow RIP #and I don't want to fall another day behind #so this'll have to do for now xD #definitely want to go back and add onto this one later when I've got the time! c:#whumptober #laced drink #my fanfic #fanfic #nate ronan #piper wright #fallout #fallout 4 #text #puke #alcohol

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nln4 · 5 years

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bloodsport

Or the story of how you get your little therapy pet. a headcanon fic about my sidestep from @fallenhero-rebirth

Word Count: 2829

Rating: M for cursing, blood, violence, animal abuse. TW: animal abuse

0200.

While many are comfortable in their beds at the moment, you are on the roof of a supposedly abandoned building in the warehouse district, peering through a grimy skylight at a sight down below. The glass is covered with filth from years of exposure to Los Diablos smog but the filters in your helmet artificially sharpen the camera feed enough for you to make out details.

Yellow fluorescent lights illuminate a crowd of about thirty people, giving everything a sickly glow. They’re all cheering and screaming behind the safety of a chain link fence while watching the main attraction: two dogs viciously snapping at each other.

Each are covered in open wounds and scratches, blood matting their fur. Fangs bared, they lunge at each other’s throats while the crowd roars. You’re glad you have your shields up to dull out the bloodlust of these people. It’s a low thrum at the back of your skull and you push it far, far away.

Above the crowd on a mezzanine, (because this is a super classy event that deserves box seats, you think) is your target - a middle aged man in a cheap polyester suit, puffing away at the cigar in his mouth. He’s slouched in a rolling chair like it’s a throne, a glass of brown liquor in his hand, laughing. And in this moment, you know. You don’t even need to scan through his thoughts to know.

He thinks he has it all. Money. Comfort. Power.

Your original objective was for information on Hollow Ground. Surprisingly, this idiot has ties with someone who knows someone. But then again, in the criminal world, everybody knows everybody and you suppose that he was chosen for a very specific reason.

Disposability.

A snap and a whine draws your attention down to the enclosed circle once more; one dog collapses in the dirt, convulsing while the other is foaming at the mouth, its barks and growls muted by the crowd. The dogs look like they’ve been pushed to their limits. The crowd begins to riot as someone announces the winner of the fight.

A handler shoves a cattle prod through the links of the fence, intent on reaching the growling hound. It backs away and stumbles, falling against the other dog. It doesn’t get up.

That does it.

“Sound off,” you spit into your mic, teeth gritted.

“Red one, here.”

“Red two, here.” The responses come from Pelayo and Ward; you had Nehal sit back with Boris because the job required some heavy muscle. She appeared more than happy enough to remain on call within the van.

A moment of silence. “Red three, do you copy?”

Nothing.

Motherfucker. You really need to have that talk with ZaZa about commitment to teamwork.

A crackle of static before - “Yeah, sorry, boss, I was just watching the fight, did you see--”

You groan internally. “All right, change of plans. One and Two, secure the exits. Three, you’re with me on the balcony. Two and Three, collar handoff. Flashbang in five.”

“Wait, wha-?” ZaZa’s voice is indignant before you cut off his channel. You’ll listen to his complaints later. If you care enough.

The mezzanine is close enough to the skylight that someone would notice glass breaking so you place your hand on the grimy plastic paneling of the skylight window and let your nanovores eat a hole wide enough for you to hop through. But before you make your entrance, you pull a grenade from your belt, pull the pin and drop it. It makes a hard thud on the ground, emitting a rising whine and drawing the crowd’s curiosity before -

A white-hot flash of light followed by a deafening BANG!

People in the crowd screech as their retinas are temporarily burned, falling over each other. It’s complete chaos as they try to flee for the exit. But as they reach the metal doors, they double over, coughing and gasping for air before slumping onto the ground, completely incapacitated, all in a matter of minutes. The canisters - some, CS gas, the other a sufentanil derivative - hiss as they release the remains of their contents.

Pelayo and Ward’s part of the job, done. You’ve had them prepped with gas masks, for both protection and anonymity. They now guard the doors, just in case someone comes skulking around.

You drop down from the skylight onto the metal mezzanine, right in front of the man in the chair who’s currently hunched over, scratching furiously at his eyes and retching. At the sound of your arrival, he struggles to sit up and locate where you are. He’s still disoriented as he tries to focus. You give him a once over and the helmet scanners alert you that he’s armed with a pistol in his pocket.

But between his current state of mind and your armor, he doesn’t stand a chance.

“Who- who are you?” His thoughts are tinged with confusion and fear as he takes in his surroundings, watching the crowd beneath him fall unconscious.

“That’s not important, Mr. Thomas Michael Johnston, age 47.” The vocal distorters in your helmet makes it sound like a purr.

He looks like he’s going to be sick to his stomach.

Truth be told, you’ve been tailing this fucker for about two weeks. Single. Likes to watch football at dingy bars. Cuts the heroin he sells with fentanyl. The dog fighting you didn’t know about, but it’s just the cherry on top of this shitstain sundae. You can’t imagine how he got in with someone with ties with Hollow Ground, but it seems like he’s a loose thread about to be trimmed off anyways.

You step closer, grinding his forgotten cigar underneath your boot.

“I have a question for you, Mr. Johnston. And we don’t have to make this encounter difficult. You went to Joes the other day and you received an envelope from a contact. What was in it?”

He gets to his feet unsteadily, fumbling in his pocket for the gun and shakily draws it, leveling it at your face. His eyes are wild as he glances about and you push his frazzled mind to focus on the reflection of his face on your mirrored helmet. To remind him of the ugly little man that he is. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Behind your helmet, you roll your eyes.

“Who the fuck told you about me? How did you know about this place?” His thumb flips at the safety of the gun, prepared to shoot.

“Hey, c’mon. I’m the one asking the questions here.” And faster than he can react, you dive forward and twist his wrist, relieving him of his gun, which you promptly toss over the railing of the mezzanine. You don’t need weapons to hurt anyone anyways.

He screams and clutches his wrist in pain. “Fuck you, man, I ain’t talkin.”

“Okay.” You do your best to sound resigned. “We’ll do this the difficult way.”

You kick him square in the chest so hard that he’s knocked off balance into the chair. The force of the kick rolls the chair back into the waiting arms of ZaZa - who’s finally in position on the balcony with you. ZaZa has a gun drawn, pointed directly to the man’s temple.

“So, Mr. Johnston, I’m gonna be honest with you. I already know what’s in the envelope. It’s a hard drive with schematics for a very important event that will happen soon.”

“How did you-” he wheezes.

“I also happen to know that you keep it in a biometric safe that only you can open.”

He takes a moment to recover from being kicked but recognition finally dawns in his eyes. “You’re that guy - on the news - that Sidestep guy.”

“So you do know who I am.”

He laughs, wheezy from pain, blood staining his teeth. “And I know you don’t fucking kill people either. You just like to scare them. So why don’t you fuck off?”

All this attitude, plus the dogs. You suppose your next move is fitting. Poetic justice, even. “Collar him.”

He starts but ZaZa shoves the struggling man back into the chair, forcing a metallic collar on him. A magnetic closure snaps with a satisfying click. His hands scrabble at the collar as the metal digs into his neck. “What - what the fuck is this?”

You roll your eyes again. “What do you think? It’s a collar. It’s also a collar fitted with an explosive device should you not go along with my requests because you somehow think I don’t have the balls to kill anybody but you know...semantics.”

The fear is finally getting to him. The understanding that he might not get out of this situation in one piece. “All right, what do you want? Money? Drugs? What?”

“The drive, of course.”

“If you know about the drive,” he gasps, “then you know about the people behind the drive. And if I talk, there’s no way I’m getting out of this alive.”

“Which is why I’m proposing you a solution, Mr. Johnston.”

“Which is?” He looks at you like you might be insane. And the possibility of you trying to defend against Hollow Ground, you might just be.

“You give me the drive, I’ll unlock the collar and I’ll get you on a ship set sail for Guam in a couple hours with enough money for you to survive.You can live out the rest of your miserable life there.”

His eyes narrow. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Just a regular business transaction. Your other choice is that the collar blows your head off and I take the safe anyways. I’m sure I can figure out how to open it.”

He gives it a moment of consideration. “What’s stopping you from killing me anyways?”

You lean down and draw level with his face. “See, you were right earlier- I do just scare people. But you were also a little wrong. It’s not that I don’t kill people, it’s that I don’t like killing people. Unless I really have to. So give me a chance not to kill you, Mr. Johnston.”

Of course, with your powers, you could just take over his mind and make him open the safe for you. In fact, it was your original plan. No wonder why ZaZa was confused. You really don’t go for the collar for something so trivial.

But those dogs. They did nothing wrong.

You consider the violence your own sick brand of justice. Some villains have standards.

“All right, deal,” he spits.

“Lead the way.” You gesture towards the metal stairs for him to take point. “And just in case you have any funny business in mind, I need your hands up where I can see them.”

You nod at ZaZa to follow him, gun pointed at the man’s back. He leads you to a unlocked office and turns on the light.The sight that greets you makes your stomach turn. Walls lined with kennels, some empty, some with dogs in them. They don’t move, even with the lights turning on.

In the corner of the office is a desk with a singular lamp and a laptop. Next to it, a huge two door safe. The right door has a panel with a keypad on it.

“Go on,” you prompt. ZaZa still has the gun pointed to the man, but even he’s looking around at the cages with a frown.

“How long have you been in the dog business?” ZaZa asks.

The man gives a low laugh. “Years. Why? You thinking of taking up the ring when I’m gone?”

“Just open the safe,” you snarl.

The man keys in the passcode and the metal panel slides up to reveal a fingerprint and retinal scanner which he also completes. You’re impressed that he hasn’t tried anything suspicious and a quick look through his head shows that he’s being truthful. Of course, he can’t risk alerting authorities to what’s going on and you suppose he has a sense of self-preservation to be going along with you so far. But you’re surprised that throwing him a couple bones would get you so far.

Metallic whirring indicate that the tumblers inside the safe are unlocking and the doors open with a pneumatic hiss. Inside are wads of cash, wrapped bundles of what are probably drugs, and enough SEMTEX and C4 to decimate the entire building to rubble.

The man rummages around to reveal an even further hidden panel and tosses out a couple individual plastic bags of whatever drug and a diamond ring (which raises one of your eyebrows but you don’t care enough to dig the story out of his mind at the moment) to draw out a sleek hard drive.

“Here.” His hands are trembling as he hands it over. One quick reach into his head and he is still - surprisingly - being honest. Although he was probably not smart enough to care and make a duplicate. Or was instructed not to, which is the more likely choice.

“Well.” Behind the helmet, you smirk. “Mr. Johnston, you’ve exceeded my expectations.” You study the drive carefully. It appears to be just a commonplace hard drive but you know it probably has so much more behind the metallic housing. Once you get home to your base, there will be some work to do. Knowing Hollow Ground, decrypting it will not be easy.

“I did what you asked,” he says, the anger turning his face red. “Now let me go.”

“One last thing though. How do you release the kennels?”

“Huh? There’s a buzzer under the desk, you g--” Whatever he is about to say next never makes it out of his mouth as ZaZa knocks him out with the butt of his pistol.

“Move him to the boat,” you instruct ZaZa and he nods. “Tell the others to come in and clear out the safe.” Even ZaZa looks glad to be rid of this scum. You make for the desk and find the button to open the kennels. The gates release with a buzz and you move through to study what’s in them.

It hurts to look at them. The unmoving bodies, thin enough that you can see their ribs. Covered in horrible scars, and worse - mutated beyond belief from what you think might be the Boost drug. You feel your breathing worsen, silenced only by your helmet.

You send out a small wave towards their mind, searching for something, any sort of activity.

And to your relief, one comes charging right at you. It growls and snaps at you, gnaws at your boot. It’s so little. Hasn’t even grown into its floppy ears yet. You reach out with both your gloved hand and your mind and it bites at your hand with a doleful look.

Once you return to the van, Boris asks about your little souvenir and you shrug.”Spoils of war,” you say.

---

“You...got a puppy.” Ortega’s grin grows wide despite his confusion. He crouches down beside you as you sit in the grass at the park. It’s a typical sunny Los Diablos day and despite everything else happening with you right now, you feel almost...normal.

“Yup.” The puppy playfully bites at your hand as you scritch at its ears.

“Is that why you asked to meet me at the park? To see the puppy?”

You look at him, still absentmindedly giving the puppy belly rubs. “What? Yeah. I guess.”

“By the way, did you hear about that boat explosion down by the docks?” he asks, as he holds a hand out for the puppy to sniff. It growls, a little wary but Ortega still gives it a scratch on the hindquarters which slowly turns into a happy thumping of its tail.

You nod. “It was all over the news. I wonder what happened.”

“Rangers inside scoop says the boat belonged to some drug dealer.” Ortega’s eyes twinkle conspiratorially. You look at him. Does he suspect something?

He studies you in turn. “So about the dog. Why?”

“What?”

“I never took you for a dog person.”

“Well, I never was a people person either until you.”

He chuckles, tossing a tennis ball you brought with you a little distance away. The puppy immediately gives chase after it. “And I worked hard for that too. But this little guy, just all of a sudden…”

“Look, some guy from work decided he couldn’t take care of it anymore. So I volunteered.” It’s technically the truth, you think.

The puppy returns, drops the ball in your lap and looks up at you expectantly. And you smile. This sort of loyalty, you can’t find anywhere else other than dogs. Maybe it was a dumb choice taking the puppy but it was the right one, you decide.

You reward it with a good scritch behind the ears. “Good boy, Charge.”

Beside you, Ortega chokes and you can see the color rising in his cheeks. “Excuse me, what?”

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero rebirth #tw: animal abuse #my writing #IDK if any of these is story compliant but still

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buckyscrystalqueen · 5 years

Text

Wayward Hounds

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,684

A/N: Posted from my old blog and unedited so it may be sloppy AF.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yours or mine?” Sam asked as you rolled off him, half asleep, to get away from the shrill ring of the cell phone.

“Yours.” You grumbled as you belly flopped onto the bed with a grunt. “Can’t we just have one day to sleep in?” you whined as you looked toward your side of the bed to see the time and instead of the clock, you came face to face with your massive pit bull, Titus.

“Wayward Hounds, this is Sam.” Your husband said sleepily as he sat up and flipped on the light and you lifted your head off the pillow. 5:57. Half hour until your alarm would be going to go off anyways. Your eyes trailed over the 5 dogs that lay on the bed, hopefully looking at you with tails wagging. “Yea, Jody. Give us like half hour to let our pups out and we will head out there.” Sam said and you growled happily at Minnie, the pit/ lab mix you happened to be looking at, at the idea of having to get out of bed.

“Daddy is not very nice.” You said to your dogs and you felt Sam’s hand fall in a gentle smack on your ass. You smiled as Titus and Astro, both big mama’s boys jumped off the bed in your defense. “Looks like someone’s in trouble.” You said with a glance toward your husband, as Sam hung up the phone. He raised his hands up over your back with a smirk on his face, challenging the two monstrous dogs and they leapt on top of you to get to him as he playfully played the drums on your bare back side.

“Alright, alright.” Sam said with a laugh as the room was filled with barks. “God you would think we owned a zoo instead of pits!” he said as he pushed Zippo off of you. You flipped your dreads back and glared at him.

“Well, when you attack the mama…” you said as you shoved him with a laugh. “So, where are we going today?” you asked as you rolled on your back, stretching across the bed in the little space available. Sam bent over quickly and blew a raspberry on your stomach and you squealed as you tried to wiggle away from him.

“We are going to rescue a litter of puppies that are running across 17.” He said and your eyes shot wide. “And no, we are not keeping them.” He told you and you pouted.

“What about just one?” you asked as you wiggled on the bed, you pat an empty spot on the bed by your head. “He could sleep right here.” you said and Sam laughed.

“(Y/N), we have five and run a rescue. Can you honestly tell me you don’t get enough puppy love all day long?” he asked as he got out of bed and you shrugged.

“You can never have enough puppy love, Sam.” You said as you rolled off the bed. “You got dogs or coffee?” you asked Sam as you walked toward the bathroom, grabbing jeans and a sports bra on your way.

“I’ll take the dogs.” He said as he pulled on his shirt and opened the bedroom door. “Alright, pups. Let’s go.” The room was filled with sounds of dog pants and the clinking of dog ID tags as your five fur children leapt off the bed and darted toward the back door. You got dressed quickly, tying your hair back with a bandana and you grabbed the first shirt off the pile clean clothes you didn’t put away from the night before.

“Do we know how many puppies?” You asked as you started up the coffee pot, grabbing two traveler mugs from the cabinet as the room filled with the sound of dog food hitting the bottom of metal bowls.

“Jody said 4 but they kept running back to a ditch. She managed to catch 1 so far.” You turned and looked at him as he tied off the bag of food.

“The mother?” Sam shook his head with a shrug and you didn’t say anything. Rescues involving puppies were always hard.

“Van’s stocked up?” Sam asked as he opened the back door to let the dogs back in and a blast of cold wind followed your four-legged children inside and you shivered as you nodded.

“Vet-mobile is good to go!” you told him as you poured coffee in the two mugs. “Ready?” you asked as you handed him a mug and he nodded as he grabbed his keys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come here, baby.” You said to the last puppy as you pushed yourself a little farther into the drainage ditch. “I’m not here to hurt you, little one.” The tips of your fingers wrapped around the scruff of the little dogs neck and you smiled to yourself as you kicked your foot. “There we go sweetheart.” You soothed the squealing pup and you pulled it to your chest as Sam’s large hands grabbed your ankles, pulling you out of the drainage ditch on the flat roller you had created for this exact purpose.

“Last one?” Sam asked as your head cleared the tunnel and you nodded as you handed the puppy up to him.

“Far as I could see.” You got up and stretched slightly, your back cracking from being on the roller for the past 3 hours. There weren’t four puppies, there were 9 and their poor mother was nowhere to be found. You shook your head as you stood up. “What would you say 2 months?” you asked as Sam looked at the puppy you had just handed him.

“If that… these babies are tiny.” You walked toward the van as you shook your head.

“Who just leaves puppies as cute as this on the side of the road?” you asked as you opened the back door. You looked at the 8 puppies you had laying in the deep dog bed under a dull heat lamp and shook your head. “At least they look like they were take care of so that’s a plus.” You shoved the roller behind your chair.

“They were definitely family pets. No fleas or scabies and only 2 ticks between the 9 of them; negative for parvo, heartworms or any other parasites. We got here just in time babe.” Sam said as he checked out the last puppy while you sat down on the ground and picking up the nearest puppy.

“So, we while we are sitting here, we gotta come up with names.” You said as you looked at the sleeping puppy you held in your hands. Sam groaned.

“(Y/N), if you name them, we are gunna end up keeping one like we always do.” He said as he drew blood from the wiggly puppy on the table. You turned the puppy in your hands toward him with a pout.

“Baby, can you really say no to this face?” you pouted and he smiled.

“Honestly, I was gunna keep one the second Jody called us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sam!” Dean called out from the back row of kennels and you looked up from the dog run to see Dean struggling to keep Pepper in her cage. She had given birth to a littler of pups 2 weeks ago and she wasn’t letting anyone in the cage for any reason. How Dean forgot that you had no idea.

“Damn it, Dean” Sam yelled as he dropped the two large bags of dogfood he had on his shoulder before he darted across the property to help his brother. You tried to move to help but watching your husband, seeing the sweat soaked t-shirt sticking to his body, accentuating every muscle moving as he pulled the cage door shut while Dean pushed the dog into the cage, latching it closed before she had a chance to try to get out again. You shook your head as you stood up, leaning against the fence surrounding the dog run. You couldn’t help but sigh as you watched the love of your life run his forearm across his forehead to wipe the sweat away and you felt your stomach flutter. God he was so hot.

“Damn, baby! Take it off!” you yelled out with a smile and Sam looked across the yard at you with a smile. He walked over to you and as he pulled his shirt up to wipe his face, you groaned. Even after 5 years of marriage and 2 years of dating before that, you still couldn’t get enough of him. As he walked into the pen, the group of dogs that you had out playing ran toward the new playmate and he laughed as he squatted down to say hi. The smile he had on his face as he was knocked to the ground was mesmerizing and if you had to guess, his eyes were shining with love as the dogs attacked him with slobbery kisses. Starting the rescue had been Sam’s idea after he had found baby Titus, tied to a tree, a chain digging into his neck while he was doing his residency as a vet 6 years ago and while it had been a challenge, at the end of the day it was absolutely worth all the hard times the two of you had gone through.

“They never run out of love do they?” Sam asked as he came over to you, wiping dirt and grass from his hands onto pants and you shook your head as you pushed off the fence.

“They get a second chance at a happy life, baby. You would love the person who rescued you too.” Sam wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned down to kiss your nose.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked and you blushed slightly. “Especially when you smile; I love your smile.” You smiled again, hiding your face in his chest with a laugh.

“You make me smile, baby. Always have.” You told him as you looked up at him.

“And I never plan on stopping.”

#Sam Winchester x Reader #Wayward Hounds

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halcyon-wra-blog · 6 years

Text

Operation: Endgame

“Alright boys.. this is it.” Volran's voice crackled through the comms, barely audible over the choppy waves and clanking, metallic gears of their transports. “We all know our orders. If we fail here today, our Crusade won't live long enough to regret it. Stick to the plan, follow your Captain's' orders, and you just might make it out of this alive. Teach these Forsaken a lesson they won't forget, Halcyon, and may the Light be with you.” With that, the comm clicked off.. and they were on their own, waiting in their bulky, armored, gnomish transport ships for landfall. With every churning wave, the ship “jumped,” its gears and cogs whirring and whining to compensate, water lapping over the lip of the vessel's raised metal flanks, sloshing down into the crew pit below. It was an uncomfortable, compact mess, with soldiers packed like sardines rather than warriors.. but perhaps that was the point. After all, their transport was just one of two dozen, and-

“-KA-BOOM!-”

A cannon shot rang out from behind them. Just one of the few several hundred – no, thousand? - they'd heard that day from their fleet, hammering into the towering walls of the Forsaken coastal fortifications, providing cover, both in the form of large smoke clouds and heavy shelling, for the transports to head inland.

At least, that was the hope. Before they'd even escaped the shadow of the Halcyon's fleet, the cannon fire had been matched with a second thunderous cry: The Forsaken's artillery. The Undead had more than just the small blight “grenades” they'd used on the Kingfish. They had cannonballs fit to bursting with blight, and for every shell the Halcyon threw at their sea wall, they fired two towards the transports. Some of them tried to escape, but they only succeeded in drowning themselves with their heavy armor. By the time they neared the beach, their two dozen transports had been trimmed down to a light seventeen.

Their transports jerked, bucked, and stopped at the shore. Outside their sardine cans, the guttural, vitriolic spat of Gutterspeak roared over the din of cannon fire. The Forsaken were preparing themselves. Horses whinnied, dogs barked and snapped.. and then.. silence. A sickly, still silence that seemed to go on for an eternity. This, perhaps, was what some might call “The Soldier's Minute,” where time all but stops and coalesces at once in one euphoric cacophony. Their last minute sane; whole; alive. After their loading ramp opened.. there was nothing but death.

The craft's pilot stood up, toying with his communicator, “T-Minus, five..” he counted, “Four… Three.. two.. one.” With the tug of a lever, their door janked, clanked, groaned, and released itself from its holdings. It flew down into the beach below, clouds of sand rising high into the air, revealing the absolute nightmare that awaited them: A battle line of Forsaken Dread Guards, dressed in royal red, replete with plague hounds and warhorses, ready to meet the invaders head on. Scores of barbed wire and entrenched pikes stabbed towards the transports, and short, quick fix defensive walls loomed near the back.

Their pilot turned towards them, gesticulating wildly towards the open bay ramp, “Go! Go! G-!” An arrow, shot from an archer behind the walls, landed squarely in the pilot's neck, his breath catching in his throat, blood already staining his white armor. He staggered, slumped, spasmed, and fell dead on their transport's floor. But there was no time for sentimentality. Already, the battle cries from the other transports rose like a hymn, the sounds of boots, paws, hooves and wings rising to meet the song of cannon shot. To either side of this concerted Hellhole, the battlements and towers of the Forsaken's sea wall rose high along the craggy Hillsbrad cliffs, the plague cannons still firing relentlessly at the fleet, just off the coast.

Arrows went wide, pinging far into the hillside as Forsaken were bashed in their fetid heads by Holy Hammers. Undead gurgled and fell into the sand as magic blasted through them, rotten gore and decayed ichor splattering across the beach. As their guts and entrails smattered the beach, Forsaken sinew turned into catalysts for explosions that rocked the entire seaboard, sand flying in chunks in every direction. An overzealous Crusader stepped forwards, and at a moment's notice, his armored form was nothing but paste, at least five of his fellows joining him in the afterlife.

A shrill cry rang out over the hills. Then came a snapping, a howling, and from behind the Forsaken line a horde of rancid plague hounds sprang out, skittering and pawing their way through the barbed fences, arrow shot and mines. They scampered, mouths slavering hungrily, and descended upon the Halcyon like a wave. They bit with cruel intent, their teeth lined with bile and etched with blight. They bit, ripped and tore, eliciting pleading screams and terrified cries from the more unlucky Crusaders.

The Forsaken assault was relentless. Wave after wave of hounds lashed out from behind the wall, the mounted dread guards all too content to wait the conflict out and let the living exhaust themselves on their pets. Overhead, the Forsaken engineers kept dutifully loading their cannons with blight bombs, their shots thundering out into the evening sky. Yet, the plague hounds were overzealous in their work, and they had accidentally triggered at least a quarter of the Forsaken mines in their charge.

The hills were covered in Undead flying and rolling down it in droves, tumbling down to the base in craggy heaps. At the top, two death guards holding tight to plaguehound leashes, were there to greet them. The dogs snapped, barked, and finally, the death guards simply let them fly. They bore down on the Halcyon, jumping and chomping at plate like it was aluminum foil. They thrashed, their necks jerking side to side, wrestling like they were in a death spiral.

Just as the Forsaken charged, a giant ball of Light flew headlong at their cannon. It shot through the air with a burning light, hissing, fizzing, sparking like a Fourth of July firework. It screeched headlong into the cannon, hitting it square with a thunderous "BOOM!" that rivaled any of their ship's cannon shots. The metal apparatus bent, groaned, and sloughed off the battlements, tumbling in a giant pile into the choppy seas below. The death guards were blown far and away, screaming as they were rocketed into the aether.

A cannon lost, the Forsaken rallied, their plague hounds retreated at their masters' whistles, scampering back behind the defensive walls. The mounted Death Guards took up their positions, blades drawn, shields ready for a charge.. and another ear piercing screech rang out across the hills, the very air taking on an icy mist, the Halcyon Crusaders' breath going cold.

The line of royal deathguards tightened, forming an inhuman wall in front of the archer line as the Halcyon's ragged line of crusaders charged towards them. Arrows nocked, bow strings drew back, "Ready!" A high, silky voice called over the din. It wasn't gutterspeak. Thalassian? "Aim!" A pause, waiting until their prey had run -right- into their line of fire. There was a glint of red, furious eyes, shrouded by a black hood. A dark ranger! "LOOSE!" With a twang, a snap, a clap, a volley of tight-knit, white feathered arrows sprang towards the oncoming charge.

"READY!" The voice called again, only to be drowned out by the clash of steel on steel. The battle had been joined, just in front of their line. The royal red of the dead guards' cloaks rising like a tide to meet the white of the Halcyon, sword against sword, axe against axe. The hounds converged, sensing weakened prey.

The death guards on top of the hill stepped forward to meet a crew of soldiers, their blades drawn.. and quickly lost to the ground as their heads fell from their shoulders from the onslaught of Halcyon soldiers. The engineers about the cannon gave each other terrified looks, and without a second thought, both rose their hands up in surrender. The cannon was silent.

"BANG!" "BANG!" "BANG!" "CLANG!" The cannon snapped, groaned, cracked and bent under a soldier’s merciless assault. By the time he was done with it, it indeed looked more like a smouldering, singed soda can than anything that could ever have been used for artillery. "Whoever did that is getting a damn -MEDAL,-" Volran's labored voice crackled over the comms, resisting the urge to let out a cheering laugh. "Excellent work, boys! -Excellent!- Reinforcements are coming in hot. I repeat: reinforcements are coming in!" And almost on cue, should any of the Halcyon look behind them, they might spy the armada of skiffs departing the motherships, trundling through the ocean towards their landing site.

A shrill scream rang out across the hills, crackling directly into the Halcyon's ears. The comm abruptly went silent, and from beyond a far hill, on some other beach along the coastline, the terrified, roaring screams of an entire regiment of the Halcyon's best and brightest rising to meet the screech. The chilly mist around the valley grew. The shrill, shuddering cry over the hills reached a crescendo, a trio of ghastly, flying revanents rounded on them. They were robed all in black, tattered robes, each clutching a scythe in hand. They swooped low, their mangled, scarecrow-esque faces contorting into wide, hungry maws as they sighted their next targets.

The death guards staggered, their lines breaking. They folded inwards, the onslaught of the Halcyon and their reinforcements all too much for them to bear. They fell in droves, regal armor clattering in dusty heaps in the sand. Archers shrieked, their arrows flying in disorganized waves as undead monstrosities ate their fill of rotten flesh. It was a slaughter, and a slaughter the Halcyon were winning.

From the pits of her fallen comrades, the dark ranger leapt up, her bowstring snapping in rapidfire patterns, neat, feathered pinpricks embedding themselves in the foreheads of those unsuspecting. She landed with a roll, interjecting herself into the sea of Crusaders, her bow discarded in lieu of two sharp cutlasses. They sang a siren's song, snapping side to side, slicing, chopping, cutting through the thinly-chained necks of crusaders before they could even reckon what had come. And not only that, but those three monstrous revenants were bearing down on them from behind.

With one voice, they let out an ear piercing roar, burning, icy breath blasting from their gaping maws, coating the back lines of the Halcyon's forces. Soldiers froze solid where they stood, looking more like popsicles than soldiers. The revenants were merciless, their shrill, freezing cries rattling across the valley, turning sand to crystalline silica, bodies into frigid cadavers, and soldiers into statues. One by one, the Dark Ranger followed up on each of their conquests, her cutlasses slicing clean through frozen flesh, coagulated blood oozing from every cut. Wait.. how was she not freezing? There, around her neck! A bright, orange glowing orb clanged against her leather armor, bouncing free from her cloak with every pirouette, every twist.

Finally, their freezing breath over with, the revenants descended to flank the Ranger, their scythes in hand, dead, empty eyes staring at their handiwork. With one body, one mind, they marched forwards, hands gripping about their scythes. Scythes rose and fell, chopping through the remaining cadre of Crusaders, harvesting them like wheat. The revenant on the left made its slow, careful march forwards. Its scythe raised, and with one cruel, downward swing, it acted to snuff the faint heartbeat out of those in his wake permanently.

The center revenant stepped forwards, spindly, boney fingers wrapped about its scythe, and trudged forwards. Unlike its brethren, it made no move to slice her or cleave. Instead, its ghastly, haunted maw opened wide, wider than any jaw would allow, and the beginnings of a concerted gust of frost coiled about its charred and cracked lips.

The revenant on the right turned, marching forwards with its brothers, dead eyes locked forward. It descended, scythe raising.. and then, from the inside out, its icy exterior went golden. Its eyes flashed, mouth agape as it let out a low, shuddering vibrato roar that rose up to a tenor, then a falsetto, until the creature practically -POPPED- from a Light overload cast by one of the Halcyon’s Knight-Captains.

The ranger yowled, recoiling away from the pain of the Light inflicted by the Halcyon’s Paladins. She scampered away, rolling her shoulder, shaking the pain off. Her red eyes flicked from the Halcyon to the revenants, then back again. "I let you get away once, pigs. I'm not about to make the same mistake twice." She dashed away, her light footfalls padding against the sand.. only to feel the flat end of a blade slap against her ankles.

Her arms threw out in front of her, her entire body sailing forwards with an 'Uhnf!' of effort, and she landed face first in the blood soaked sand, staggering, trying to regain her balance. She rolled hurriedly up onto her back, red eyes blazing furiously at the offending paladin and runic knight. With a snarl that showed teeth, she leapt up to her feet, drawing her swords once more, spinning, pirouetting, one slicing toward the rune-knight, another towards the Paladin.

"When will you humans LEARN?" She snarled, her legs kicking out, attempting to bash against plate, "This is our home, not yours! NEVER yours!"

The revenant on the right was violently shunted, sending the gigantic beast staggering to the left. They stumbled, colliding with one another, their frozen breath cracking against one another, snap-freezing them together. They were trapped. They couldn't move! They..! ACORN! In unison their heads looked up, and saw the small, teensy tiny little thing fall between them. Within the span of two seconds, the haunting creatures had been replaced by a giant oaken tree, their wizened, craggy faces jutting out from the bark, their scythes sticking out at odd angles.

The ranger let out a huffing a breath as soldiers charged into her, sending her sprawling onto the ground.. and then again, just as she'd tried to regain her composure, another came to knock her down. Swords went flying in either direction, arms going wide to either side, her body "puff"ing into the soft sand beneath her. Swords, bird pecks, punches, nails.. it was all she could do to bring up her arms to try and ward off the blows.

She felt a sword descend upon her neck, driving clean through her pendant.. and straight into her heart. Then slowly, almost peacefully, her arms fell to her side, no longer even deigning to resist. Instead, her red eyes gazed peacefully up at the paladin, druid, crusader and she smiled.

"We.. will.. never.. surrender," she blurbed, congealed, black blood oozing from her lips. "We will fight you.. wherever is needed. We will.. kill you.. we will.. never.. give up.. our homes.." Gingerly, sickly, her left hand reached to the pendant, which began to crack and splinter around the sword, glowing a bright, rich amber color.

"Glory to the Forsaken.. Glory.. to.. Sylvanas.." Her eyes widened with manic glee, and the pendant began to let out a soft chiming. The light growing more and more intense, the noise ringing in their ears. "We will.. never.. be.. slaves-" The pendant blasted the ranger to smithereens, and, hopefully for her, might just take some of them with her. Yet, the Halcyon prevailed. They had won. They now had their foothold in Hillsbrad, and it was only a matter of time before they expanded further inland.

#It's a long Read #Combat Event Recap #The Halcyon #Op: Endgame #IC #Guild Plot

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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years

Text

1_14 Flare Ups

The ancient factory had been built in a portion of the town where vision had failed to flourish, while at the time traffic had moved so naturally in other developments and the town had forgotten of former allies. Roads surrounded the large of brick and steel monolith basking in the last carpet of light, the color of the air that had been so vibrant when on the other side of town now took a drab gray tone despite the fervent strokes of the diving sun. On the opposing sides of the factory roads sat a forest still trembling at the edge of industrial expansion, the other third of the territory beyond the old roads was invaded by large plots of land trampled for new venues. These temporarily abandoned construction zones where the roots of delicate architecture of steel beams and cement slabs sat, boarded by chain-link fences made statement for new growth rising from the ashes of destruction as the phoenix rose from its incineration.

A few vehicles, Arthur counted five, passed the van as it made its way down the road. The occasional crinkle of a wrapper and munching of the cookie came from the back, but there was otherwise little sound from the group as they made their second trip to the factory. Lewis had the passenger side window down and was leaning out checking the perimeter around, before Arthur turned off the main road to take the single lane path that ran around up the backside of the factory and to the thick gate that surrounded the plant. Soft whines came from Mystery in the back and coos from Vivi as she hushed the dog.

The sun was falling faster and faster behind the distant hills and quivering tree lining, by the time Arthur brought the van to a halt beside the gate that surrounded the factory. He parked amongst tall trees and brush that tore through the rusted bars of the gate, but Arthur felt there was no danger of the vehicle being discovered or bothered while they were this far out from the main town.

Low ticks twittered from the engine of the van, once the ignition was cut. Without a word Arthur shoved the driver side door open and slipped out to inspect the falling dusk, and rising blues in the brisk cool air. Dust gravel and earth was rich on the breeze, dry leaves rattled over the bare path, and the familiar aroma of cheap old grease hung thick. The factory marinated in the memories and ill influence, of those that had once loathed its callous structure. As he moved along the vans side to the back, he looked up through the branches of the trees and saw the last light of sun gleaming orange and red from the few remaining windows in set beyond the great height of the distant gray wall.

The back doors creaked open and Vivi poked her head out. “Got a light?” she asked, and clicked on a flashlight. She held it out to Arthur and he took it.

“Got my bag?” Arthur caught it when Vivi slung it his way. “I’m… being sabotaged,” he said, as his metal arm fumbled to twist the correct way through the arm strap. Vivi assisted by carefully turning his arm further back, and spun Arthur around to reach through the strap proper. “Thanks.”

From the front of the van Vivi caught the sudden slam of passenger door, followed by the faint crunch of rock underfoot. “Can you carry a bag, Lew?” She slid out one more bag with her, and turned to check the eyes glinting behind the sunglasses.

“Yeah, give it here.” He took the offered bag, and stepped back as the odd patter of legs joined them. Mystery sprang out of the open back and when he hit the ground, gave a hard shake, as dogs do. His collar jingled as the hound worked out the loose hair and wrinkles in his muscles. Lewis saw the red eyes turn and look at him, before Mystery spun away and trotted over to Arthur. “Anything else?” Lewis asked, as he looked into the van.

“This should be everything,” Vivi answered. She moved away as Arthur returned, and slammed the back doors of the van shut. For a moment, Vivi fiddled with her backpack turning it around at her side and pulling, before she pulled out the camera. A bright flash went off and she lowered the camera and scanned through the images, her feet moving as she began leading. “C’mon Mystery. I know you don’t like the shoes, but it’s just for a few hours.”

Lewis smiled as he watched Mystery pad after Vivi. As everything done to him by his companions, Mystery endured it well. But he made them aware just how much he disliked wearing little dog shoes, even if they were the most fashionable black that Vivi could find, they still looked ridiculous. Even for a spirit as free as Mystery was, broken pieces of metal and dust coated glass was not worth weeks of sore, infected paws.

The group spread out as they moved along the rusted gate. Weeds and large trees had jutted through the bars of the fence, which had time ago surrounded the welding plant back in its prime. In the unlikely event of visitors Lewis had parked off the road, several yards away from the main gate entrance that led into the plants open loading yards. Over the years the entrance gate had corroded and fallen partially off its hinges, and no doubt many had entered the factory through this way. There was a small path formed in the gravel among the weeds, and the Mystery Skulls used it just as well to enter. Vivi viewed it as good luck omen, and that many before them had used the path to come and go safely from the factory, so of course they would too. Thought, it just as well meant a minor danger of unwanted company in the factory, but due to rumors of hauntings it was a higher possibility that no one would risk a night time visit.

Corrupted asphalt ended at the chipped and worn cinder blocks, stretching further into the sky than the naked eye could see. The day before the group had spent the first hour or two of the night hunting for a way in that they could all use, the group splint up in two separate direction and Arthur had eventually found an employee entrance near the utility shutters of the factories furthest side. Arthur had made an effort to hide the fact he found the doors, until Lewis began prying. The doors would be just around the corner of the building, and up a short set of cement steps.

Oil and grease permeated the air outside the factory, seeping through stones walls in its gradual escape. It was too late in the year for crickets, but somewhere above a bird chattered out into the night, getting the last song of the evening harmonized before sleep. Aside from their steps echoing with rich resonance off the sun bathed wall at their side, the air had a tranquil vapor that seemed to hover just over the groups shoulders. It wasn’t haunting, more unwelcome but less of an ominous presence as result of the absence of the living.

Arthur stumbled in his step and turned his gaze off from the group and scanned over the open road that picked at their side. He could just make out the amber outline of the vans roof through the trees and brush as the sun was falling and the air darkened around his eyes. Vivi paused to look at him, but Lewis kept walking with Mystery following. No one said a word, and once Arthur was done or felt better, he turned and resumed his march.

“Sometimes,” Arthur murmured, head lowered, “I swear, I sometimes hear things.”

Vivi walked beside him watching his downcast face. “Voices?” she asked. Arthur shook his head, somewhat timidly. “What then?” Arthur raised his shoulder and dropped them, but made no comment. Vivi pressed no more questions, but hurried in her steps.

The factory was a tall, single story. Lewis had already pushed the door in and was entering the near black atmosphere that pooled within the oily walls. He could detect the high ceiling and the ancient shutters, where light and wispy clouds formed above the broken spaces in the ceiling. Steel beams crisscrossed in jagged rusted pyramids, and cables or frayed electrical cords hung down in tatters from above. Large drums and tanks dotted the large floor below, a few of te long industrial tables stretched across the concrete expanse. Rusted and broken tools remained on top, and even a few leaves from the outside world had fluttered within. Footsteps scrapped at his back, and Lewis jerked away as Vivi and Arthur crept in.

Vivi clicked on her flashlight and ran the cold blue beam over the gray and crusty tools – Bunsen cords, metal rods, sheets of metal, all crumbling into the cement floor.

“I think I saw the office,” Arthur began. He shielded his eyes when Vivi turned to him, nearly catching his face with her flashlight. “I’m not sure, I didn’t actually go into it.” He snapped on his own flashlight and turned the yellow beam down on Mystery, as the dog led the way. “Unless that ghost made a point to hint about where we’re supposed to go.”

“No,” Vivi said, as she began following Arthur. “Let’s see what you found first.”

It was some distance through the factory, towards the front side. Along the way Arthur would breathe onto his knuckles and rub at his bad shoulder with his free hand. At odd intervals Vivi would lift the camera and take a picture, and occasionally she would share her find with someone, most the time it was Lewis as he would prompt first. Arthur didn’t like to be reminded of the things he couldn’t readily see. Mystery pad alongside the group and sometimes barking at a distant shape huddled beside a wall or large tank, shadows lurking that Vivi missed, or Mystery would pause and turn his attention into a particular direction and perk his ears high.

“That looks like the office,” Arthur had said, when they reached the bottom steps that rose to a higher story. It wasn’t so much a higher story as it was a small apartment that overlooked a large open section of the lower chamber. Arthur estimated this portion of the layout was designed in mind for the more important, high key projects. Ruble had fallen to the floor from the underside, and when they reached the top landing they could identify a large cracked window further back from the railing that would view across the open floor below. What glass remained was cracked and coated in a thick film, and the rusted frame was bent at jagged angles within the mortar wall.

Somehow throughout the years the door had remained locked, or rusted shut. The group ventured into the low ceiling alcove, Vivi trying the door before she stepped aside and shined her light on the doors knob. “Arthur, can you?”

Arthur stepped up and slumped off his backpack, he rubbed a finger over the tarnished plate illuminated in the blue light and hummed to himself. Mystery padded up to sit beside Arthur, as Arthur rummaged through the sack and pulled out a chisel and hammer. “Can you move a little to my left?” the mechanic asked. “Other left. Thanks.” Arthur put the chisel beside the plate in the doorframe and gave a few sharp blows. When the plate came off, Arthur examined the interior of the lock and deadbolt. Lewis watched as Arthur went back to his backpack, and pulled out a sharp pick. Lewis looked away as the harsh blows came, then a click. “Got it.” Arthur shoved the door with his shoulder until it inched open, a peeling squeal came from the rusted hinges as he moved the stubborn metal panel. Vivi moved beside Arthur and helped him wrestled the door open enough that they could slip through.

“Whoa, watch it,” Vivi said, as they stepped into the office. Several steps from the door and beneath the window was a large hole, at its depths was the carnage of ruble they had viewed on the ground below. “Careful where you step,” she further cautioned, as she crossed the spacious room. “Lew, can I have that bag now?”

Lewis had stepped into the room and was looking down into the open wound of the collapsed floor, and onto the broken teeth of ruble staring up at him. “Yeah, here,” he said, and passed the bag over. He turned and stared into the swirling murk and dull rust, before he turned away. “I don’t think I’m gonna be much help,” he admitted, as he watched Vivi explore around the room.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You can light candles, can’t you?” Vivi held up one of the tall cheap white candles sticks she bought in bulk.

Lewis looked at it, and smirked as he looked past the candle to Vivi. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea either.” He caught Arthur’s movement, as Arthur glanced over unaware his stare was caught. Lewis broke his gaze and snapped to attention, when a small camping lamp was tossed his way from Vivi. The lamp almost popped out/through Lewis hands as he grabbed for it.

“Turn that on, then,” she said, before she stepped over to Arthur with a collection of candles bunched together in one fist. Lewis turned the small lamp on and the bright LED covered the immediate area where Vivi had elected where they would begin their work. Vivi pointed out the broken wall scattered over the floor, and Arthur took out a stiff little brush to sweep away the larger bits of dust and rocks. As they submerged themselves in the routine, Lewis saw it fit to set the lamp down on the only available surface, the floor, and gave the room a fleeting scan.

The office was spacious despite its deterioration, enough that the group was not bumping into each other as they worked around. A side wall of the office had fallen across the room, large chunks of rusted metal and concrete made for an interesting stand for a section of the little shrine Vivi had constructed. She had two notebooks out on the floor and alternated between flipping through the separate pages, and marked shapes onto the flat sides of cement that were available as well as on the floor itself with a piece of graphite. Arthur had the lighter and was pressing wax down and fixing candles where Vivi directed. The little electric lamp placed near their workspace covered the area with soft white light, shimmering occasionally as Mystery paced the floor back and forth eagerly watching the work of his companions. At some point Mystery seated himself down and continued to supervise, as Vivi sets out a thin silver dish and places a bundle of sage on that between two burning candles.

Lewis moves away and again finds himself looking down through rebar and wood of the broken floor. It ebbed something in him that he didn’t want to feel, but he couldn’t avert his gaze. The rugged folded edges helped, made it seem less intimidating. He focused on the dark that was reaching, clawing to his limbs and chest. Until there was movement. Another ghost below, looking up at him. Lewis watched the other, and the other spirit stares back up appearing much like a living person, but for those eyes. Lewis was about to ask a question, when the ghost dissolved from sight, body first followed by the polished ribs.

“Have you started yet?” Lewis inquired. He turns to Vivi as she shakes her head. “Right. We might be gathering an audience.” But there was no indication where the other spirit had gone, or why it appeared. He doubted that was Fritz, though he had no reason to have an opinion yet. Lewis backed away from the broken floor, the weightless and dislocation that mingled in his core becoming unbearable. He looked to Vivi and Arthur as they mingled about in perfect unison and felt a mild pang, a whisper of disassociation twisting about their presence. As if he had become a spectator watching some scene unfold. The notion made him uneasy and Lewis felt the urge to say something, even a stupid comment about how nice Vivi’s hair looked with the shadows hovering over her, but he couldn’t. The lamp beside Lewis dimmed, and he moved across the room away from it as Vivi and Arthur glanced up.

“We’re ready to start,” Vivi announced. “Are you okay, Lew?”

He nods, as he spun around to look at the lamp and distract himself from the symbols shimmering under the light. His voice popped and sputtered before he managed a word. “Yes. Just, the other spook.” He intertwined his fingers and set his hands together in front of him.

Vivi nodded and turned back to her work. “Just say anything,” she said as invitation. “Don’t leave me in the dark. Got it?” Lewis tilts his head towards her and nodded. Satisfied by this, Vivi moved to position herself behind the small circles drawn on the floor in front of the cracked slabs of concrete, where the rust and dust had been brushed away for more figures etched with graphite. Vivi moved her backpack off her shoulders and opened it up. Arthur moved to just behind one side of her shoulder, and Mystery placed himself a little behind and between Arthur and Vivi. “Could you come join us, then?” From her backpack Vivi pulled out another candle from her seemingly endless inventory, and a bundle of cloth. Lewis watches as Vivi unwraps the cigarette tin from the cloth as he moves to stand near the group. Vivi shoves the provision backpack aside, out of the way and Arthur leans over to hand her the lighter.

“Does the air feel a lot colder?” he asked. Arthur glanced around, and coils down into his vest. “I mean it. It feels a lot colder than that other night we were here.” He blows into his hands again and rubs at his shoulder.

“You really need to consider just wearing your sleeves down,” Vivi remarks. She shuffles the cloth and candle into one hand, and with a piece of graphite in her other hand, Vivi marks a rune on the floor and sets the cigarette tin on the symbol. “It’s not good for you to get sick all the time.” She sets the cloth aside, then takes the candle and lights the wick.

“We’re calling, Fritz Owen,” she begins, initiating the séance. Vivi drops melting wax from the candle onto the cement beside the sage on the dish and sets the candle down on the edge of the circle between the cigarette tin and the unlit sage. “Fritz Owen. We would like to speak to you if possible. We insist you make your presence known.” She turns the backpack over in order to reach a side pocket and slips the lighter inside, and paused briefly when a distant clatter occurs. Slowly, Vivi pulls the camera from the bag and over onto her lap where she sits. She glimpses over her shoulder up to Lewis, and then resumed, “We have an item you once owned in life. Are you not compelled by our call?” Vivi focuses on the tranquil burn of the candlelight glistening off the marred side of the tin.

Arthur shifts where he’s seated on his knees. He looks over as Mystery sets his paw on his thigh, and Arthur reaches over to the dog’s neck and gives him a scratch. There is no draft in the musty office, the candle flames burn steady in the absence of disturbance and thought. But the air… shifts, or changes. He can feel that, the sense of it is uncanny as it bore into his spine. Arthur’s certain the shadows at the edges of the light have thickened, as if the grease that clung to the air was now swelling into something… irritated. He feels a tickle in his spin and trembles. “God, it is cold.” Vivi hushes him.

“Would you like to borrow my sweater?” she asks. Arthur shakes his head. Lewis is looking at him again.

“Focus, Vi,” Lewis says, instead.

“Right, right, I got this.” Vivi takes a deep breath, and resumes, “We know about you, Fritz Owen. You worked in the welding factory sometime during in the 1920s. You had a wife and a child,” she says, and paused. There was another sound, somewhere, a far off clatter echoed. She couldn’t discern if it was the sound of the factory decaying, or some animal scurrying around in the rafters overhead. She heard Arthur shudder, but ignored him. “Your wife, or someone close to you, gave you an item of sentimental value. We now have that possession. Will you not show yourself?” All is quiet, even the hiss of the candles compliant to the flat air have a no perceivable trill.

Arthur stiffens. A voice, barely audible but he could make out the echo on the words. No one, not even Mystery gazing off into the dark shattered wall of the connecting room, reacts to the utterance. “You guys,” he murmurs. “Guys. Vivi. Did you hear that? Please tell me you heard that?”

The answer is unanimous between Vivi and Lewis. “No,” “Nada.” And Vivi goes on to ask, with interest, “What’d you hear?”

Arthur shakes his head, and takes his hand from Mystery’s shoulders to rub at his own neck. “1924,” he said. “Something about 1924, I think. That’s all I heard.” Arthur brings both arms up to rub at his shoulders, and the soreness in his remaining left arm.

Lewis didn’t like this. He scanned the room over but could detect nothing, and saw nothing evident in the shadows. All he felt was the pull, and the urge to get away from the writing on the floor. It was suggestions and nothing more he reminds himself, but it made him uncomfortable. It could as easily be his sense of nerves and reflections as anything, but he wouldn’t attribute it to ‘phantom’ paranoia. Or was it because there was another seeking? Was Fritz hiding because of him?

“What would that mean?” Arthur whimpered. “1924?”

Vivi ponders over the date. “Well, that was during the Roaring twenties. When Fritz would have lived and would be working,” she said, pondering. “It was considered one of the best times to be an American. A lot of cultural mingling, jobs, the economy was booming.” Vivi’s voice became quiet. “Up until the Crash of Wall Street. But that has nothing to do with Fritz.” She looked over at Arthur briefly, then looks back to the cigarette tin as if to speak with it directly. “Fritz Owen. Did you die in 1924?”

Even before Vivi had finished her question, Arthur was fidgeting and looking around. “You heard it that time, right?” he asks, pulling his arms tighter around his sides. “I’m not going crazy?”

“You’re not going crazy,” Lewis says, tilting towards Arthur. “The spirit just chose you for some reason to transition answers.”

Arthur gave a low whine in his throat. “WHY? I am the worst person!”

Lewis looks away, toward the dark section of the open adjacent office Mystery had remained focused on. “I won’t disagree,” he mutters.

Arthur glares at Lewis, and sinks down into his vest collar a little. “That was an unnecessary comment.” Lewis shrugs showing his palms, and folds his hands behind his back.

“Art, focus,” Vivi said. She tugs on Arthur’s shoulder to get his attention. “What’d the spirit say?”

Arthur blinks at her. “No. Just… ‘no.’ I guess he didn’t die in 1924?” Arthur winces when Mystery leans into his side, pressing into his bad shoulder. “Hey bud.”

“Okay,” Vivi says, and rubs her hands together. She raises her hands near one of the candles and resumes. “Fritz Owen. When did you die? Do you remember how?” Vivi begins massaging her palms together, until Lewis crouches beside her and takes her hands in his. “Anything, Arthur?”

Arthur shakes his head as he glances around. “No voice,” he says. “No… sound.” Arthur looks away from Vivi and Lewis. “What!”

Lewis glances up in the direction Arthur is staring, and sees a gray shadow in the furthest side of the room gazing back. Arthur flops to his side and scoots away from the candles glow and the marks on the floor, as the dark shape drifts further into the room. The shade stops to stare at the four, its bright eyes going over each in turn. It is vaguely shapeless and more like a dirty sheet, a soft white glow comes from its chest. It moves closer to the cluster, much to Arthur’s dismay, and sways back then lowers to the floor where it seems to sink down into the cement. Its bright eyes continue to stare around at them, as the candle light wavers across its pale contrast against the dark gloom lingering around the electric lamp.

“That’s,” Vivi begins, edging out of Lewis hands. “That isn’t Fritz, is it?” She cocked an eyebrow at the small shroud as it bobbed up out of the floor.

Lewis glares at the little spirit as it glides up and seems to examine the display of melting candles set out on the cement and broken slabs littered around them. “I don’t… no, it isn’t,” he says. The spirits glimmering chest pulses in time with the locket hidden under his sweater, but otherwise the nondescript takes no interest in his presence at all. “I think he’s just curious.” He shuffles on his knees, but stops himself from rising when he notes the cigarette tin and markings on the floor. “Or maybe just scoping us out. He might be a friend to Fritz.”

When Vivi reaches out to the gray shade, the spirit drifts towards her. The candles flutter under the spirit as glides backwards from her hands. With a flutter of its shadowy edges and a sputter from the lamp, the ghost rises up and fades into the ceiling above. Arthur stares up until the shadow is gone, then heaves a thick breath.

“Fritz Owen,” Vivi goes on, with a small sigh. “Do you plan to appear before us? Will you talk to all of us, and not just our friend? That is very rude.”

Mystery perks his ears and moves away from Arthur’s curled up body. Mystery stares past Vivi to the window and gives a yap. There’s a sound of snapping, followed by a dull clatter as a a small section of the window cracks out of the marred and twisted frame. Lewis stands up but doesn’t move from his spot, in response to his movement the candles sway and dance causing the thick shapes mingling over the floor and walls to quiver under his presence. He sees nothing and no further activity was made apparent.

“Are you with us now, Fritz Owen?” Vivi questions. She looks up to Lewis when he looks back at her, and Vivi shakes her head. Lewis turns away, and Vivi continues, “We are calling you, Fritz Owen. You are compelled to obey.”

The dull air holds its countenance, but there is something new. A change in the thickness of the oppressive atmosphere, as if the factory had come alive for a brief and silent moment to expel a long lost sigh of decay. What glass that had fallen through the collapsed floor crinkles, tinkling down over rebar and wood.

Mystery gives another bark, right as Arthur shrieks. In the furthest corner of the room, near where the nondescript shade had manifested, now stood a dark figure cloaked by the shadows repelled by the light. The spirits eyes glint white deep in its dark eye sockets, gray hair is stylized in an undercut and the longer top upon the scalp is combined back. A portion of the suit around the shoulders has faded revealing bleached bones, and a white heart pulses dimly over the dark tatters draped over the ribs. The exposed remains of bone are coated in a black cloak of ravels that seem to seep from the shadows among the figure. What is most terrible about this apparition is the ugly frayed rope around the lingering collar of the suit. The remains of a noose.

Arthur is muttering, sinking down behind Vivi as she stares at the spirit in the corner.

“Why are you here, Fritz Owen?” Vivi asks, unblinking. “Why do you remain?”

There is no sound, or none that can be heard. The spirit soaks back into the shadows as if it had never been. In the distance a crash comes, audibly relatable to a large structure that was shoved over or thrown aside.

Arthur calms down somewhat when he sees the shadow absent, and pokes his head up from where he was bent down. “He says, he is not happy that we are here,” Arthur whispers, to Vivi. “He wants us to leave.”

“Well,” Vivi huffs, “We’re not leaving until you make yourself more hospitable. We had to buy KitKat’s and coffee beans, and we didn’t get to try any of them.” She glanced around, but saw no indication of the spirit. “After this though, we’re gonna try it. Together. We were told it’s good, by your great-great-great grandson.”

“I think it’s just great-great grandson,” Arthur says. He paused and frowned. “Fuck. I can taste chocolate and coffee!” He licks his lips. He couldn’t deny the rich flavor on his tongue, it was clearly there and on his breath. And…. “It’s… it’s kind of good, actually.” Arthur smacks his lips.

Viv sniffs at the air, and looks over at Lewis standing near them. “I can smell coffee?” she said. “Like, from a bag. Fresh beans. It’s like I’m standing in a Starbucks.” She beams at him. “It’s so weird, one minute this place smells like grease and yuck, and now I’m craving coffee.” She sniffs a little more and squeals, barely able to hold still. “Incredible.”

Lewis makes no comment, but smiles. This was a refreshing change.

“That’s very impressive, Fritz Owen,” Vivi continues. She adjusts her glasses on her nose, and shifts her legs on the grit digging uncomfortably into her knees. “We know you killed yourself in this office, Fritz Owen. And we know what happened to cause you to do what you did.”

Mystery looks back at Arthur as he quivers and lowers down more, hiding his face beside his shoulder. “‘You know nothing,’” murmurs Arthur.

Lewis looks over at the trembling figure, a warning sparked in him. He could feel Arthur, pick out the parts that were him and found nothing too distressing or mangled. It was just Arthur being frazzled and spiked, but he didn’t like that part. The tone his voice had taken. “Try us,” Lewis hissed. He looked away from Arthur and scanned the office over. “Tell us. But leave him alone. You can talk to us, we’ll listen.” The dark in the room seemed to pull back and lighten, but he wasn’t certain if the others had caught it.

“He… doesn’t want to,” Arthur says. He leans up as Mystery pushes his nose under his chin. “He doesn’t trust us. I think it takes too much out of him.” Mystery crawls over Arthur’s lap and looks into the far side of the room, where the two spirits had appeared from.

Something was different, something that Lewis had missed. A twinge of pain crept into Arthur, but faded out. “I get it,” Lewis said, watching Arthur as he slumped down beside Vivi. “He’s weak. He can’t do much but lurk and talk.” Something faded behind Arthur, a face and dark eyes glowering. Lewis missed the glance Vivi shot his way. There was another resonance somewhere, a clang of hollow metal. “Then you throw a tantrum. You can’t even do it with us watching.” Arthur makes a sound, a low groan as he huddles down.

Vivi looks away from Arthur and stares across the room. She raises the camera up and flashes a picture. She stands up beside Lewis as she activates the image viewer, and shows the screen to him. Something inside Lewis feels cold, as if his soul was squirming inside his ribs. From the broken ceiling beside the window dangles a noose, and a shadow hung from it.

“Cool,” Vivi murmurs. Lewis says nothing. The collective group winces when a chair crashes through the room from the adjacent office, and splinters against the floor close to where they stand. On the other side of the room poised beneath the memory of the noose, the ghost hovers within the vacant wound in the floor.

“I want you to leave now,” it hisses.

It takes a beat for the collected to recover, and adjust to the reappearance of the spirit. Arthur mumbles something under his breath, as Lewis shrugs off the rash incident. “So, he speaks without a puppet,” he goads, crossing his arms over his chest. Lewis smirks when Fritz glowers up at him.

“Talk to us for a bit,” Vivi offers, “And we’ll leave you alone. That’s all we want.” She lowers the camera in her hands when the spirit turns his attention to her. The spirit says nothing, just watches with its bright white eyes. “Why are you here?” she prompts, when nothing is first uttered.

The spirit raises his shape above the broken floor and leans to one side. “Because you won’t stop calling me,” it said. His focus falls to the marks on the floor, or perhaps the cigarette tin set there.

“You know what I mean, Fritz Owen,” Vivi retorts.

“And stop using my full name,” Fritz says, gaze never leaving the floor near Vivi’s feet.

She replies, “Only if you don’t leave. Just answer our questions.” Fritz fades somewhat as she takes another picture, and Vivi asks him to answer. “Are you tethered?” she continues. “Is there something we can help you resolve?”

“There must be a reason,” Lewis picks up, and gestures to Frtiz. “Don’t you find it oppressive, waiting around this place? Even if you didn’t die here? But you did…. This can’t be by your choice.”

Fritz makes a sound, a cracked chortle. “I do like it here.” He raises himself to set his heels onto the edge of the wrecked floor and perched there, with his ragged arms folded behind his back. He looks from Lewis to Vivi, Fritz’s eyes dim in their sockets. “That’s ALL you need to know.”

Arthur looks at Mystery when Mystery head bumps his bad shoulder gently. The dog looks over his ambers glasses into Arthur’s eyes, and Arthur blinks as he turns to peer at the spook carefully.

“This is where I belong,” Frtiz goes on. “Call me sentimental, but I don’t want to leave for… whatever. It’s not that I’m afraid or anything, you understand.” He drops his attention back to the tarnished metal case surrounded by the markings and candles.

“You’re lying,” Arthur mumbles. Fritz peers beyond Vivi to Arthur. “Viv, he’s lying. He’s hiding something.” Arthur sits up more as Mystery moves to stand in front of him.

Vivi looks back to the spirit, and asks, “You wanna try again?” Without response Fritz dims out of sight. Vivi sighs with exasperation. “Fritz Owen,” she calls, partly to the floor, “we are not done here. I’m calling you back, Fritz—” She’s shoved and falls backwards onto Arthur. Mystery yelps when she tumbles over him, and he scrambles away barking at the shadows crawling around them when one of the candles tips over and rolls on the floor.

“Vi!” Lewis spins and ducks down to grab her off Arthur. Mystery is still snarling at lingering shrouds, and spitting at the odd shapes twisting on the broken ceiling above them. “That was uncalled for,” he hissed, voice low and seething. When he moves to pull Vivi up onto her feet, Fritz is standing there glaring down on the huddled group. The noose hangs down the spirits bleached bone knit front, and the candlelight on the floor causes his shadow to stretch around them, outward from the black cloak slung around his glinting collar and shoulder blades.

“This is your last warning!” The spirit booms, eyes blazing. “Leave or I’ll give you a reason to run. No more questions. No negotiations. You’ll cling to that hope your lot makes it beyond these walls without me tied to your heels.”

Flames gush from Lewis collar when he twists away from Vivi on the floor, and he lunges up at the looming dark figure. Magenta fire rolls from Lewis’ cuffs as he swipes out at Fritz, the sudden movement jostles the sunglasses off Lewis’ face and the glasses clatter to the floor at his feet as he rears up over the other spirit, eyes blazing from the pits of their black sockets. Fritz recoils from the violent motion and smoothly perches a distance back from Lewis staring, a lack of comprehension evident in the bleached visage.

“You’ve done something,” Lewis says, standing between his group and the other entity. Magenta embers crackle as they hover defensively beside his sizzling shoulders, blistering the poor edges of his blackened sweater. “There’s a reason you’re stalling. If you tell us, then maybe – and that’s a strained maaayybe – we’ll let you be. But my strongest advice would be that you Do. NOT. Lie.” Fritz says nothing, just stares at Lewis with an expression akin to unease. After a terse pause the skull and bones fade from the room and Fritz’s presence is gone. “Damn it.”

“You okay?” Vivi asks. She touches the pale patch of skin on Arthur’s head. He brushes her hand off.

“Yes, still in one piece,” Arthur says, as he raises his prosthetic. “Which is good.” He takes Mystery by the collar as the mutt tries to pad by again, nervous and snuffling at the dust kicked up. “Settle down, bud. We’re okay.” Mystery wags his tail and leans up to lick Arthur’s face.

Vivi stands beside Lewis, still poised and tense facing the vacant air the other ghost had occupied. She sets a wary hand on Lewis’ shoulder, gently. “Hey? He didn’t know you were a ghost?” she poses, and prods at the scorch threads around Lewis’ neck and stares.

It took a while for Lewis to let his agitation diminish, and he turns to Vivi. “Apparently,” he said, looking to the tatters of the sweater on his arm and the remains of his smoldered glove. Vivi noticed his suite, now exposed through the open splotches in the sweater.

“How does that work?” she asked, looking up at his face. In their recent travels, Lewis had neglected to remove any of his physical articles since visiting the Owen’s. He hadn’t bothered or either forgot, the matter on its own was unimportant so long as Lewis could look human, or appear Alive, among other people. Little by little it began to dawn on Vivi that she too had forgotten of Lewis unique state for a short while, if only briefly, though her focus had been diverted onto the séance. The realization spread a tinge of guilty through her.

“I must be very convincing,” Lewis said, with a smirk. “And you were complaining I needed to recover faster. I wasn’t even startled.”

“Yeah,” Vivi agreed, lost in her own thoughts. “Fritz couldn’t see you coming.” Recalling their current subject, she turned to Arthur and knelt beside him. “Art, what was that?” she asked, setting a hand on his bad shoulder. “Did someone talk to you?”

Arthur seemed to melt under her hand and lowered his head. He set his flesh hand on Mystery’s shoulder and gently rocked the dog crouched beside him. “The accidents,” he said, voice low. “I was… I nearly forgot. Remember? The one major incident that started it. The terrible accidents.”

Vivi looked away, to the cigarette case and the candle slowly going out beside it. “Accidents,” Vivi repeats, as her mind gathers back the obscure details they had collected. “1924. Faulty equipment following the… oh god.” She stood up and turned to Lewis, holding her hands up, one hand still held the camera. “The accidents,” she began. “The worst, the freak accidents only happened after Fritz’s suicide.”

Lewis looks away, to the ugly ruin of a hole and the glimmering rebar and glass within. “We don’t know that for sure,” he says. “The equipment was old. Even Fritz suffered injury from it.”

“He wouldn’t know any better,” Vivi said. She ducks around trying to find Lewis eyes where they had diverted onto the floor. “His family said he was… broken, mentally shot. What does the loss of sight and hearing do to a person? He killed himself in this room. He can’t find peace on his own.” Lewis winced at her words. “He has to be expelled from here. He can’t stay.” Vivi takes his chin and pulls his face to meet her eyes. “It’s not good for him, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Lewis answers. Though, he turns away as Vivi slips to the floor beside Arthur and drags her bag close, she begins rummaging through bottles, some rolls of paper, and yet more candles. He knows she’s taking stock, deciding what would be best implemented for expelling a spirit through exorcism. Lewis isn’t certain what he feels, but he knows Vivi is right. A wandering specter lost and confused was one matter, but a suicide was a whole other miasma of potential corruption and disaster. But—

A low grinding sound came from overhead. Mystery goes ballistic, barking and jerking at Arthur’s leg dragging him across the floor, despite the protests of Arthur trying to shield himself with his satchel. Lewis jerks back grabbing Vivi and Arthur, while Mystery remains tangled with Arthur’s pants leg. A strangled yelp wrenches from Arthur’s lungs, as Lewis slings the group aside. A section of the roof cracks and drops, pieces of cinderblock slam down over the chunks of wall across the floor and the cigarette tin, as with the Vivi’s personal bag that had been left in the panic.

Lewis turns back once he’s assured the others are wary of their surroundings, in the event of another attempt on their life. “At least we didn’t promise to return the tin,” Lewis mutters.

Vivi’s expression of horror deflates as the dust settles, and the crackles of mortar fades. “He’s definitely getting exorcised now.” She creeps away from Lewis, the only light now available being the lamp still seated on the floor. She stares at the pile of bricks as Lewis approaches, with Arthur and Mystery close behind him. “This is going to be difficult without the anchor.” She pulls the provision bag over her shoulder and ponders. The lamp on the floor sputters, then goes out. “Shit.” Mystery snorts when he sneezes in the dark, scaring Arthur a bit.

Arthur jerks his flashlight from his back pocket of his pants and clicks on the light. He turns the yellow beam from Mystery, over to the wreckage and waves away a bit of the lingering silt. “I say we call it a night,” he offers, and coughs. Arthur slinks back when Lewis glares at him, eyes burning in the dark outline he stood within. “Or not? Vi? Back me up here.”

“The tin wasn’t an anchor,” Lewis said. He folds his arms behind his back, and felt the odd unevenness of his covered arm and the tatters of the sweater on the other. “It was a bind. It’s wrecked now, we can’t use it.” Lewis paused, as Vivi turns to him. She had her flashlight on and was shining the soothing blue light just under his collar. “We’ll need something else.” He knew what she was looking at now.

“Lew. Go on,” Vivi encourages. She didn’t know how hard this was for him.

“He’ll carry something HE cherished in life. It’s,” Lewis hesitates, and glanced over the room when another sound, a tinkling echoed in the other open space of the office. “It’s not real, not in a physical sense. But to him it will be.”

Vivi nods. “Okay,” she says. “Then we should go and find Fritz, or whatever this thing is he cherished.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Arthur begins.

“I agree for once,” Lewis states. “Beside, you don’t even—” Lewis’ voice rattles off, when Vivi pressed a finger to his lips.

“It’s the heart, right?” Vivi accuses. She drops the flashlight from his collar, and takes her hand from his face. “All the ghosts we’ve seen – every single one – even the deadbeats have one. Don’t give me that look, Lew. You were very protective of your heart when we first encountered you in your mansion.”

Lewis drew back from Vivi and raised a hand to his chest. “We’ll,” he mumbled, and his voice had the odd crackle to it. “I can’t say yes or no. But don’t take it lightly, Fritz will be more than willing to harm to keep you away from it.”

“I know,” Arthur says. And Lewis looks at him and can see Arthur’s eyes quite clearly, and Lewis detects something pacifying in Arthur’s aura. “That part you don’t remember.” The statement is missed by Lewis, but he nods slowly as it comes back. Arthur remembers and it’s a sensation Lewis tries to remove himself from.

“That’s good enough,” Vivi said, as she looked between Lewis and Arthur. “Then let’s go.” Lewis reaches over and takes her arm. She wrenches her arm back out of his grip. “No Lew!”

“You’re not going to look for him, I am!” Lewis’s voice echoed, the resonance clipping over the walls in the office. Vivi opened her mouth to protest, but Lewis raised himself more and cut off her voice. “This guy wrecks walls, and tampers with machinery,” Lewis goes on with harsh chatters, his eyes brightening within the dark pits of his eye sockets. “Remember those gremlins? This’ll be ten times worse.”

Arthur cringes beside Mystery and pulls the dog close to him. “Let’s just let them duke it out, huh?” Mystery opens his mouth to pant, his breath misting in front of his face. A few times Lewis tried to turn Vivi around or grab Vivi, and she would shove Lewis back and Arthur would wince. As this went on, Arthur sighed and pressed his face into the dog’s fur. He says, “Sometimes I think you’re the only one that understands me.” Mystery yaps.

Lewis tries to put his hands on Vivi’s shoulders. “I don’t—” Vivi swats his hands away, and he retreats that time.

“Lew!” Vivi snaps, and sets her free hand over the locket hidden under the sweater. “He’s sacred of you. He’s weak and scared of us all. He can’t harm us unless we let him, and we won’t. Right Arthur?”

Arthur perks up from cuddling Mysery and nods. “Yes? Wait, no!” He tries to stand, and slips back to his knees beside Mystery. “He’s dangerous Viv!”

“One collapsed ceiling!” she sneered. “Whoop De Doo! I’ve seen worse! WE’VE dealt with worse!” Arthur goes quiet and doesn’t comment. Vivi turns back to Lewis. “I am not going to let you go out there and do this on your own! I won’t. I watched you do that once, and if I can help it I will not sit by and watch you do that again! Do you understand what I’m saying?” Lewis lowered his hands from Vivi as she heaved a few gasps and collected herself. “Now listen here,” she resumed, voice calmer, “Fritz will play keep away, because he doesn’t belong here and he knows it! He’s broken. We’ll find that artifact, and perform the exorcism in this room.”

Lewis looks away. Maybe. Maybe she is right. Maybe. He couldn’t say no to her face now. The sensation crept back into him, dislocation and weightless in an essence that troubled his tangible shape. Lewis crackles, and speaks, “You’re right. But, give me a second.” He leaves Vivi and returns to the ruble of the roof that had fallen over the floor and the marks Vivi had carefully laid down. The floor shifts not from his weight, but from the blocks of bricks and wood he shoves away until he uncovers a section of the floor. “Arthur,” Lewis said, and beckons with a finger. “I need your hands for a moment.”

Arthur glances from Vivi to Mystery. He stands and shuffles over to Lewis. “It’s nothing dangerous, right?” Arthur scuttles back when the floor creaks under his weight, he gives Lewis feet a look where Lewis is poised, weightless, beside the wreckage.

“I’m right here,” Lewis said, and beckons with his hand. “Just get the tin out.” He hovers back as Arthur, still jittery, peers into the opening in the cement chunks. Arthur uses his flesh arm to reach through the pinned stones and without much trouble he wrenched free the shattered halves of the warped tin. “It’s broken? Good. Hold up the pieces separately and close your eyes.”

Arthur gives Lewis a distrustful scowl. “What? Why?”

Lewis’ eyes brighten with irritation. “Arthur,” his voice comes wispy, almost in a cheerful melody. “Do it. You owe me.”

“Why?” Arthur says, voice breaking.

“Doritos,” Lewis supplied. He waits as Arthur appears to want another go with the argument, but Arthur relents. Arthur sticks the flashlight into his back pocket, and takes a piece of the tin in either hand. “You two might want to avert your eyes too.” Lewis glimpses Vivi and her incredulous expression, and Lewis is compelled to cool her unease. “I’m not going to hurt him.” Lewis touches the collar of his suit, compelling the heart to twirl free from his chest and hover at his fingertips. “But I don’t think you want to wind up like Fritz.” When Vivi and Mystery had shut their eyes, Lewis guides the locket between the two pieces of the cigarette tin.

As the locket hovers between the warped pieces of metal, Lewis raised a hand and faced a palm over the twin tin pieces. His eye sockets flare bright magenta and for a brief moment his skull is visible through the skin of his façade, bright flames flicker up from his suit collar. The remaining scraps of the gloves burn away when pink fire engulfs his hands, projecting a coal red symbol onto the surface of the tin.

Arthur gives a high pitched yelp when he accidentally opens his eyes, and catches sight of the eerie fire and skull face of Lewis. “Geez! Fuck.” He dropped the tins as he stumbled backwards into the furthest wall. “Thank you for the warning!”

“You’re welcome,” Lewis rattles. He looks down on the tins as the fire at his hands dies out, and the surface of the bent metal cools. Lewis glances at Vivi as she approached with Mystery beside her. “We’ve dealt with worse,” he said, as he admires the locket drifting at his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Vivi said. She reaches out to the locket, until Lewis catches it by its base and turns to her. He doesn’t move as Vivi reaches over and sets her hand upon the softly pulsing heart gleaming in the gloom. The bluish tint fades to golden under her touch. “You’re not gonna lose us.”

“Not gonna lose you,” Lewis hums. When Vivi lowers her hand, Lewis returns the locket to the front of his suit hidden behind the sweater. He took a piece of the crumpled tin and gave it to Vivi, then took the other broken half. Arthur was still seated against the wall, rubbing at his flesh hand. “Are you hurt?”

Arthur shook his head and stood up, ignoring Lewis outstretched hand. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just surprised, that’s all.” He looked up at Lewis, before he was handed the remaining half of the tin. “Is this some sort of protection?” Arthur ventures, as he examined the mark in the tin.

“I don’t know,” Lewis admits. He glides after Vivi, who was already headed to the broken door.

“Then why all the flash and dazzle?” Arthur asked. He hurried to catch up with them. Mystery followed, and kept close to his heels.

“Fritz will not like it,” Lewis says. He glides out of the door to stand with Vivi, and waits as Arthur and Mystery catch up. “I used that symbol to… repel unwanted entities. We’ll find out what happens.”

Arthur paused to look at the tin again, and was reminded of the crypt and the coffin. It did make sense, but maybe not to Lewis as much as Arthur had decided it should. “Wait,” Arthur groaned, “are we going to splint up? Guys, that’s a terrible idea!”

“It won’t be that bad,” Vivi insists. She shines her light on Arthur’s chest when he begins to shake. “You and Mystery. Watch each other’s backs, and above all don’t get separated. You have a walkie-talkie, so don’t shut it off like you always do.” Lewis smirked. Arthur’s Achilles’ heel – he could run, he could evade, he could pick locks like nothing else in a pinch – but Arthur always and never failed to forget to turn on his walkie-talkie. “Mystery, you’ll protect Arthur.” Mystery barks, and trots to stand behind Arthur and pressed his side into the back of his companions trembling legs. “Just don’t be afraid,” she says. “If you need to, make some runes and a circle of salt. You got this Artie.”

“I don’t,” Arthur whines. Mystery barked and pranced around to Arthur’s front and hopped up to plant his front paws, in shoes, on Arthur’s thighs. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Mystery.” Mystery barked, insisting he did know. But Arthur would rather be with Mystery than left alone with Lewis.

“You’ll be fine,” Lewis said. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. You’re good at that.” Arthur mutters some words under his breath, but Lewis didn’t care for it. “Remember the tin, but be careful. There’s a chance you just might upset him with it.”

Lewis didn’t plan to let it come to that, and in a way, he wished Vivi was going along with Arthur. When he found Fritz, and there was no doubt in Lewis’ intangible sense that he would, he didn’t plan to let the hostile spirit off before he managed to give Fritz a firm piece of the negative emotions brewing in his heated loathing. For that little stunt in the office, Lewis vowed to find Fritz by any means available. Even if it meant violating none corporeal laws, and endangering his own contentious state.

#mystery skulls #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls fanfic #fanfiction #msa fanfiction #msa lewis #msa arthur #msa mystery #msa vivi #mystery skills fanfiction #msa fanfic

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ventrue-rosary · 6 years

Text

Broken Chains

Chapter 5 - Fenrir

AN: Trigger warning for rape

Read previous chapters here or on fanfiction.net!

Lyris’s eyes cracked open. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small barred window in their room. Nerissa was already gone.

The door banged open, and in entered a plump human woman. Her thinning grey hair was scrapped back into a neat bun. Her overly large bosom nearly spilled out from the corset she wore over her simple dress. She wiped her calloused hands on her apron as she glared down at Lyris.

‘What, do you think your on holiday? On your feet, girl!’

Lyris slowly stood, the grogginess of the early morning still clutching her.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ The woman stalked over and wrenched her upright. She was stronger than she looked. ‘Follow me, elf. You’ll be working in the kitchens with me today.’

‘Where’s Nerissa?’

‘Never you mind. You don’t ask questions. You speak when you’re spoke to, understand?’

Lyris said nothing as she scanned the open rooms they passed, hoping to spy her golden hair. A sharp slap on her burned arm brought her attention back to the woman standing in front of her.

‘I’m speaking to you, knife-ears! Just because I’m not one of the soldiers don’t think you’re off to hook. I can and will whip you into obedience.’

In her mind Lyris heard the snap of the whip, and felt the unwelcome sensation of her skin tearing underneath its strike. ‘Y--yes.’

‘Yes ma’am. Where are your manners?’

They started walking again, through the large dining room and into the kitchen. Nerissa wasn’t here either, but there were several servants there. She knew they weren��t slaves because they weren’t in chains. She was sure it was no coincidence none of them were all human. It did give her pause to wonder, though, who Andro would bother hiring servants when it was clear he wasn’t opposed to slavery.

‘Don’t just stand there gawking!’ snapped the cook. ‘Start with the pots!’

What followed was the contender for the longest and dullest days Lyris had ever endured--and perhaps one of the most painful. The cook didn’t use a whip, but she had a mean right hook she used on Lyris several times when her pace slipped behind. For every pot she finished washing, another were immediately piled next to them. She was at least spared the job of serving the dinner to Andro or any of his guard-force. But when the day was done, her back ached and her wrists were sore. By the time she returned to her sleeping quarters, she was too exhausted and hurting to even give Nerissa’s continued absence a second thought. She passed out within minutes.

They came for her in the middle of the night, Brigfen and his men. Put a sack over her head and marched her through the castle. She was too exhausted to even word her protest, to even feel enraged. With her eyes covered and Lyris not yet given the chance to learn the layout of the map, she had no idea where she was being taken, but when the cold stones underfoot was replaced by cool, dry, soil she knew she was outside.

The sack was pulled off her head. She stood in the middle of the outdoor courtyard, the guards forming a circle around her. Lying on the ground in front of her was Nerissa.

Lyris dropped to her knees and turned her over. Her face was covered in bruises and cuts, as were her limbs. Her dress was covered in dirt and blood.

‘Nerissa?’ Lyris shook her. She didn’t respond, only breathed haggardly. ‘Nerissa!’ Lyris glared up at the guards. ‘What the hell did you do!?’

Brigfen held out one finger. A key attached to a ring dangled from his finger. ‘Know what this is?’

‘A key,’ Lyris snapped.

‘Aye. Not just any key. To key to your salvation. Your freedom. Nerissa has never had any dreams of escaping. Not till you came along. Now she told me it was her own idea. But I don’t believe her.’

Lyris looked down at Nerissa’s broken form. Her eyes slid open a fraction.

‘Nerissa?’

She mumbled something intelligible. Lyris lowered her face, and heard Nerissa whisper: ‘I’m sorry.’ The words wrenched at her gut. Nerissa was not the one who needed to apologise.

Lyris lowered Nerissa’s head gently to the floor and turned to Brigen. ‘She was lying to protect me. Escaping was my idea. I instructed Nerissa to steal the keys. Even though the plan was my own, I gave the riskiest task to Nerissa, because I knew the consequences of getting caught. I didn’t want to face those consequences.’

With a sigh, Brigfen pocketed the key. He stepped up to the two of them and met Lyris at eye-level. She wanted to flinch away, suddenly nervous at his proximity. She was not eager to yet again experience the pain he was capable of inflicting.

Thankfully he backed away first, with a deep, throaty laugh. ‘I don’t think she’s lying. What a heartless bitch. Poor Nerissa here, even as we beat her to an inch of her life, begged for us not to hurt you. If you’re really the orchestrator though, I fear we will not be able to grant Nerissa her wish.’

Two men were already seizing her arms and dragging her away from Nerissa. Lyris kicked and struggled, but her aching, exhausted body was not strong enough to put up a fight. They bent her over the fence circling the training yard. Two men held her down as she heard Brigfen undo his belt. Lyris squeezed her eyes shut as she prepared for what came next.

Once it was over, Lyris was pushed onto the ground. She felt as broken as her friend looked. She wondered if she had been put through the same. She wondered if she would ever wake up. Brigfen paused as he passed Lyris. He looked too smug after his victory.

‘Now perhaps you’ll think twice, or I will find you and do the same thing. Understood?’

Lyris didn’t respond. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the face. When she did, she felt it all over again. The humiliation. The agony.

Brigfen and his men left the two of them bleeding into the yard. Lyris dragged herself up to Nerissa. She laced her fingers through hers, and passed out.

She awoke to gentle humming and the sensation of fingers running through her hair. Lyris’s eyes opened, and was greeted by Nerissa’s face, haloed by the morning sun. She smiled down serenely at her, then winced and brought a finger to her split lip.

‘You’re awake,’ Lyris croaked, sitting up.

‘I should be saying that to you.’ Nerissa dropped her gaze down to her lap where Lyris’s head had been a second ago.

‘I was worried. You were gone for an entire day.’

Nerissa cringed. ‘I’m sorry. It was not my intention to worry you. Nor did I want to drag you into my mistakes. I wanted us to escape. Together. But I got caught. And you were punished.’

She remembered it all to well. The torture. The pain revisited itself between her thighs, burning, searing. The degradation that came with it. Nerissa’s sympathetic eyes made it all the worse.

‘You should have told me. I would at least have liked to know I need to prepare for some kind of fallout.’

‘I made a mistake. I know. I truly am sorry.’

‘Now it’s going to be all the harder to escape, you know that? Our chances would have been better if we worked together.’

Nerissa rung her hands. ‘I’m sorry.’

The door leading out to the courtyard banged open. Brigfen swaggered outside. Nerissa immediately took Lyris’s hand. Lyris was unsure who it was supposed to comfort. All Lyris felt was icy dread as the human stepped towards them.

‘Well isn’t this adorable? Did the two of you spend the night together out here? Can’t imagine you had too much fun. I exhausted this one before the night ended.’ He pointed to Lyris.

‘Please, leave us alone,’ Nerissa mumbled. She squeezed Lyris’s fingers.

‘I merely came out here to give you your duties for the day. Kennel duty. Current kennels need cleaning, as do the hounds. And one of the empty spaces needs preparing for the new wolf we caught.’

Lyris stood, pulling Nerissa up with her. As she went to walk by Brigfen, he groped her ass.

‘Last night was fun. I hope we can do it again sometime.’ His laughs chased her into the building.

Nerissa watched Lyris with worry in her eyes.

‘I’m fine.’ Lyris dropped her hand.

‘You don’t seem fine.’

‘What happened happened. There’s no taking it back. So stop fucking apologising and stop treating me like I’m made of glass!’ Lyris stormed ahead to the kennels, not knowing or caring if Nerissa was following.

The kennel master was a crotchety man in his mid-forties. He wore a sleeveless shirt to show off his beefy, tattooed arms. When Lyris reached the kennels, he had them folded over his chest in a show of impatience. He glared at Lyris then glared past her shoulder at who she could only assume was Nerissa trailing after her.

‘The fuck kept you two? You were due here ten minutes ago.’ His words were barely audible over the constant barking.

‘We’re here now,’ Lyris said.

Nerissa hovered just behind her shoulder.

‘The name’s Wade. I’m the kennel master, in case you don’t know. The new hound has been giving us some trouble. Barking non-stop, refuses to get in his cage. Last fella that tried to go near the beast ended up in the infirmary. Caught the mange, apparently. Let’s see if you slaves have better luck.’

Nerissa gasped. ‘Sir, we are not trained for--’

‘Step aside.’

Wade bristled at being given orders, but he couldn’t hide his impressed expression. ‘By all means be my fucking guest.’

He opened the kennel door, then immediately locked it behind her. Nerissa ran forward, hands clinging to the bars. She stared through them solemnly. Lyris just nodded at her then started forward. Either side of her were cages housing huge dogs of war. They barked, growled and threw themselves at the doors. Lyris wasn’t even worried if the metal would rend under their weight. Perhaps she was being self-destructive right now, but she didn’t care. She felt safer here surrounded by war hounds than she did with any man.

Ahead of her lay the slumbering beast. Not a hound, but a wolf. She could tell from its size, snout and the hue of its fur. As she approached, it ears pricked. The beast stirred, and raised it head. Its golden eyes met Lyris’s, and it stood on all fours, growling, warning for her not to take another step. So she didn’t. She stopped, and crouched down so she was at eye-level with it. The wolf didn’t relax its stance, but it didn’t grow more aggressive either. It just watched her, growling.

‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ Lyris said. As she studied the wolf, she noticed blood sticking to the end of its fur on his side. A wound. ‘You’re hurt.’

The wolf whined, like it understood.

Lyris turned to look at Wade. ‘Is there any medical supplies?’

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘The wolf is injured.’

‘Why should I care?’

‘If this wolf can be tamed, it would be a boon for his lordship. Letting it die from an infection would be a waste of resources.’ Lyris though appealing in this way might get results.

He tossed her a small brown satchel. ‘It’s your funeral.’

Lyris grabbed the satchel and turned to the wolf. He was watching her cautiously. She approached him slowly, satchel in one hand. She was not close enough to the wolf to touch it, but she didn’t dare reach out a hand. It was bigger than she originally thought.

Now she was close enough to see the wound, she noticed an arrow shaft poking out of its side. Slowly she extended a hand, keeping her palm out. The wolf raised its head. It bared its teeth, but made no sound. She held out one hand and waited, letting the wolf approach in its own time. Eventually, he took a whiff of her palm. She stayed still, allowing him to grow accustomed to her scent. Lyris gestured to the wound.

‘Can I?’

The wolf seemed to let out a gruff sigh, as if reluctantly agreeing. She gentle skimmed a hand over its back. From its expression it wasn’t particularly enjoying her touch, but she took the fact he didn’t attack her as a good sign.

Lyris moved her hand down to his side. The wolf’s hair raised slightly.

‘This will hurt. I’m sorry.’ Lyris grabbed the arrow shaft and yanked it out. The wolf howled and thrashed. Its turned its head to Lyris and slammed its jaws down on her arm. Lyris let out a cry as the teeth sank into her flesh. She heard Nerissa shout something, but the pain blocked her senses. Her free hand groped for the satchel at her side. With shaking fingers, she opened the clasp. Her hand wrapped around a poultice. With as much delicacy as she could muster, she slathered it onto the wound. It must have some soothing properties, as its jaws went lax, allowing Lyris to free her arm from its grasp. She studied her forearm, and saw the bleeding imprint of each teeth. She dearly hoped the wolf wasn’t a carrier of the mange as Wade suggested.

She gritted herself through the pain and wrapped a bandage around the wolf’s stomach. He licked her arm as though apologising. It stung like the nine circles of hell, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Lyris heard hurried footsteps behind her and turned to see Nerissa running towards them. The wolf growled. She placed herself between the two of them.

‘It’s ok,’ she told the wolf. ‘That’s Nerissa. She’s a friend.’

Nerissa wordlessly grabbed Lyris’s arm to study the wound. ‘That needs medical attention.’

‘It’s fine,’ Lyris lied. It was throbbing, and the edges felt hot and sore. ‘We have work to do.’

Nerissa ripped off a strip from the hem of her dress and wound it around her arm.

‘Thanks,’ Lyris said.

Nerissa’s eyes darted up to meet hers. She wordlessly squeezed her wrist. She felt strangely light-weighted from the gesture.

‘We...we have work to do,’ Lyris stammered after an awkward minute passed.

Nerissa drew back, face flushed. ‘Of course. I’m sorry.’

The next few minutes the spent scrubbing the kennel floor, laying down hay and fetching water for the wolf. He didn’t listen to Nerissa’s orders for him to enter his cage. He lowered his head and glared at her. Lyris stepped forward.

‘Listen to me. I know it’s not the best, but this cage will give you your own room. People won’t be so eager to bother you there, and if you obey, you will be safe from harm. They won’t hurt you again.’ Lyris skimmed a hand over the covered wound to punctuate her point. The wolf gave her face a lick before he stepped into the cage. He curled up on the floor.

‘I think he likes you,’ Nerissa said.

‘We just understand each other.’ Lyris shut and locked the cage. Her arm throbbed.

‘Now I’ll get this seen to.’

#broken chains #broken chains chapter 5 #dnd.#lyris ravendoor #my writing

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