The child looked up at the woman. In the darkness of the shed only scraps of pale hair and watery highlights of scared, unknowing eyes could be seen. Uncomprehending, the child reached towards the woman, seeking some love, some comfort. The woman drew back, grabbing the door frame, "No Nathan, stay in there."
The child reached forward again. By now the woman had backed out of the shed, her dark hair immediately plastered to her head from the downpour. A single arm, almost pink, as if slightly sunburned, reached out after her. Lightning flashed, a close strike. For a moment all was lost in the cacophony. The woman flinched, as did the questing arm. For just a moment its nails seemed to lengthen. In the bleaching glare of lightning the pink skin looked momentarily covered in a thin sheath of pale fur. The woman's flinch continued as the arm began questing again. She turned and slammed the door on the figure inside the shed, grunting as she swung the heavy bar into place.
Small fists beat on the shed door. A desperate mewling sound rose from within. Thunder rumbled again and the woman screamed over it, "No Nathan! Shut up! Please, just shut up and keep quiet!"
The noises from within the shed slowed and stopped. The door was ill-fitting. Splintering and warped from the passage of years, a half-inch gap had formed along the bottom. The child's face pressed against the cold concrete foundation, smudging with dirt and oil as a single blue eye, red-rimmed, watched the outside world. Watched as the dark-haired woman stepped away from the shed.
A new rumble came. Not thunder, a car pulled into the dirt cul de sac. The woman's shoulder's sagged a little. The passenger side door opened on the rusty Buick and a tall man with a scraggly goatee stepped out. "Liz-"
"No Dave!" she screamed, "Just leave! Fucking leave!"
"Liz," he said again. He had to speak loudly above the rain and thunder, but was making every effort to remain calm, "Listen hon, I understand how you feel."
"Understand? You want to fucking kill him!"
The man's hair was already plastered down by the rain, "It's a monster Liz."
"We're all monsters, you stupid fuck!"
"You know what I mean, Liz!" the man's calm exterior was slipping, "We can keep it under control, that thing can't," he indicated the shed behind her.
Liz laughed. A cracked, sobbing laugh. "Under control? Under fucking control?" She pulled a pistol from her soaked jeans and pointed it at him, "How's this for under control, asshole?"
The driver and the other passenger immediately pulled out their own weapons. Dave's mollifying expression vanished. He raised his arms carefully, "Easy Liz, please, we can talk this out."
"There's nothing to talk about, Dave, you want to kill him, my baby," Liz pulled the trigger.
The loud, empty click of her waterlogged pistol was quickly drowned out by the whipcracks of the driver and passenger's own weapons. "No!" Dave screamed, but his own voice was a mere whisper as thunder and follow-up shots filled the clearing.
Liz staggered once, looking at her own weapon with dumb surprise. Then, as if her brain had taken a second to comprehend that she had just been shot, she fell over. Dave ran around the side of the car. He slipped in the mud and ended up next to her on the ground. He lifted her head, scared to touch a chest and slender belly now marked with half a dozen holes. The rain turned blood pink, pink turned to a dirty speckled brown as it reached the dirt below. "Goddamnit," Dave said as he cradled her head, trying to run a hand through clotted hair, "Goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit."
Her eyes opened. Dave looked at her, stupidly uncomprehending for a moment. Her pupils had expanded and warped, now looking more like oblong six-sided slits than circles. A rivulet of blood came out of her mouth as she opened it and, almost delicately, fastened her teeth around Dave's forearm. Dave screamed in pain and surprise as a mouth suddenly full of crazily angled fangs pierced his flesh. Liz growled, a deep, almost sensual noise. Arms suddenly bulging with tumorous knots of muscle and patches of wiry black fur rose, clamping Dave in her grip.
Several more whipcracks pierced the clearing. The fangs were withdrawn and the arms fell away. The eyes stared blankly at the dark grey sky overhead, pupils once again circular. The body began to violently twitch. Dave clambered clumsily to his feet and rounded on the other two men, "What the fuck?!"
He didn't wait for an answer, "You fucking- I didn't want her- You weren't supposed to shoot her you stupid shits!"
He had grabbed the collar of the driver with his good arm. He looked about ready to shout something more, but the fist unclenched and the hand fell away limply. A brief sob escaped Dave before he turned back towards the shed. "Let's," his voice cracked, "Let's, take care of that thing in there... then get her... do something for her- I don't know, do-"
His instructions were interrupted by another crash of thunder. As the sound died away a scream pierced the clearing. Dave looked to see the passenger on the ground, fighting desperately with some... thing on top of him. Lightning flashed again, illuminating something dark hunched over him, worrying over a torn throat. A bulging, muscular frame coated with dark bristly fur that could charitably be likened to an exceptionally deformed gorilla. It leaned down and clamped the passenger's throat in an elongated muzzle.
The driver's pistol let loose two more cracks, then an empty click, as more dark forms loped into the clearing. Dave watched as the driver gave out an inarticulate roar, his own body beginning to bulge strangely, clothes tightening around expanding skin. It wasn't fast enough, and the driver disappeared under three dark bodies. Dave didn't bother trying to help, didn't bother even thinking anymore. Terrified instinct took over and he fled, not looking, not caring.
The pale blue eye under the door watched the dark figures finish tearing apart the driver and the passenger. Two of them had disappeared, tearing off on all fours after the fleeing Dave. The eye settled again upon the fallen figure of Liz. Her body was twitching spasmodically. One of the dark figures loped over to her and leaned down, snuffling. It grunted. A deep noise with inflection that implied far more than just an animalistic sound. Another of the creatures responded, giving her another snuffle. It growled at the first, and in response the first carefully lifted her over its broad shoulder and loped out of the clearing.
The second creature gave a sharp barking sound. The two others remaining in the clearing barked in response, then grabbed the mangled bodies of the driver and passenger and left in the same direction as the first. The second creature turned to go, then paused, giving the air a snuffle. It turned towards the barred shed, regarding it with an alien curiosity.
The child backed away from the doorway, trying not to let any frightened sounds escape as the dark monster padded noiselessly towards his hiding spot. Small puddles of dirty rainwater had collected under the doorway where the child's face was pressed. One of these puddles vibrated slightly as something on the other side of the door pressed its muzzle against the crack and snuffled. A thick, dark tongue extended under the door and slapped wetly on the dusty concrete, still slightly warm from where the child's face was pressed.
The tongue withdrew. What little gray light came through the crack showed the creature's muzzle pulling away. The child crouched in the furthest corner of the shed, afraid to even breathe. There was a noise over the lessening downpour, almost like the snapping of rope. Something small and metallic was pushed under the doorway. Heavy footfalls splashed through mud and puddles outside as the thing ran away on all fours.
It was nearly a half hour before the child was willing to move again. Ten minutes more before he had worked up the courage to cross to the doorway of the shed. There was a half-dried, sticky saliva on the ground, and beside it, a small metal pendent, what the thing had shoved under the door. The child heard something outside. Screeching, electronic cries, sirens. His mother had been afraid of those noises, so to him they must obviously be something to be feared. There were some loose boards at the back of the shed, the door was barred, but perhaps he could pry those boards out and escape.
It was much deeper in the forest, away from the fearsome sirens and flashing blue and red lights that accompanied them that the child finally stopped to examine what he had picked up, what had been given to him, in the shed. A flat chunk of metal with a string attached, a necklace. On the metal an obviously cheaply carved, stylized figure. A serpent that bit its own tail.
A much warmer day. Natalie decided that the bus was overrated and walked home from school. Thirty minutes into the walk she remembered why she didn't usually walk home from school. A dark, gangly arm shot out of a pile of rags, rattling a paper cup with a couple of coins inside. Natalie ignored the homeless man and walked on. The rattling stopped and was replaced by whispered epithets and curses. Should she feel bad for these people? She had a warm home while they were stuck out on the streets every night.
On the other hand, how many of them were there because of drug addiction? If she were to drop a few coins into the cup, how likely was it that money would be going to keeping that guy fed? Or would it go towards another bottle, or one more syringe, just like the smashed one she had seen in the gutter five minutes ago. Some part of her was supposed to feel bad for these people, but when she walked by them, all she could muster was a vague disgust. There were two more piles of huddled rags on the other side of the street. Like her, the other passers by looked the other way, subconsciously cut them out of their world.
A real-life ignore feature, Natalie suppressed a smile.
"Hey girl," a whispering voice came from beneath a comically wide, battered hat, the figure, like all the rest, was curled next to an alley mouth, "Wanna see something special girl?"
Natalie picked up the pace. Beggars were one thing, this was something different. Experiences of a sexual sort were still foreign in Natalie's life, but she knew enough to know exactly what that voice's owner wanted. Yeah, she might be naive, but she wasn't about to lose her virginity like that. The whispering voice came again, fading into the background, "C'mon girl, I'll show you something special!"
So this was supposed to be better than where she was? Sure, get in a fight, cause a little vandalism, get expelled, she understood the need to move, and she realized it was her fault. But why Milwaukee? What was so attractive about here? She had been to Chicago a few times, and she really liked that. It was all so colourful, and the people were friendlier. Here it was just cold and dirty and closed off. People had jobs, or school, or whatever. They traveled in their little groups, distrusting anyone outside. There were no open-front cafes, no busy sidewalks where you could always find someone to talk to.
Just traveling bubbles, occasionally bumping into each other, but never really touching.
Not that she was really that much of a social person, so it was probably a moot point. Online was better anyways.
"Hey girl."
Natalie's pace slowed. She tried to convince herself that it was just just another bum, but that voice was exactly the same. A recording.
"Wanna see something special girl?"
Fear uncoiled in Natalie's gut. She was walking by an alley mouth. Home was still nearly a mile away. There was something huddled in the alley, a bone-thin figure. The shadows were deep and concealing, but she thought she could see a wide-brimmed hat. Natalie's walk turned into a jog. The lights ahead turned green, the crimson hand turned into an ivory figure. She ran across the intersection.
Two blocks later Natalie slowed to catch her breath. He was gone. Maybe he had simply run up a cross-alley to intercept her again. That wouldn't work up here, tenements and storefronts had given out to individual dwellings, and concealing alleys were replaced by smaller side-streets that would be much harder to remain hidden in. Natalie leaned against a lamp-post for support.
"Hey girl."
A bone-thin hand encircled her wrist. Natalie's world stopped as ice crawled up her arm from the contact point. She tried to pull away, wondering how she could have missed the figure huddled against the lamp-post, the figure that was wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Fear sapped her strength and she remained rooted in place. Terrified, Natalie looked up and down the street, but there was no traffic. The hand gave a small tug and Natalie was pulled down to her knees, torn jeans tearing just a bit more from the impact with the pavement.
"Wanna see something special girl?"
Natalie tried to pull away from the man. Tried to warn him that she was going to scream if he didn't let go. Tried to lash out and scratch at the man. She was smaller than he was, and would probably lose in the end, but she should try and put up some sort of fight, right? Her backpack was a leaden weight, keeping her pinned on the ground. All that escaped her lips was a rather pathetic moan, halfway between a plea and a frightened squeak. The colours were too bright, the angles too sharp. She seemed to be possessed with some sort of strange tunnel vision.
A dull sloshing in her ears. What the hell was happening to her. Her knees should be in pain from that collapse, but the only thing she could feel was the grip of that man. It burned, as if he were in the throes of a nasty fever. Amidst the burning Natalie could feel a thousand tiny pinpricks, as if the fevered man had needles for skin, or like a swarm of mosquitoes swam inside him. Natalie realized that, despite the fact that it couldn't have been much over forty degrees, the man wore nothing more than shorts and a tattered tank top.
"I'll show you something special."
The man reached up with his other hand and removed the floppy, wide-brimmed hat.
"Natalie? Nat- Jesus! Are you okay? What the hell happened?"
Natalie blinked. Pressure on her shoulders. A figure in front of her, grabbing her, shaking her. "D... dad?"
"Dad!" she hugged him tightly.
"Natalie, what the hell? I was worried! You're cold, get inside, what happened to your jacket?"
She followed his orders, dimly wondering where her jacket had gone. That would have to wait until after she figured out how she had come to be standing at the front door to her apartment. "I'm not... I'm not feeling very well."
"Get yourself to bed, Natalie, I'll put something on for you, just... Jesus, what happened to you?"
"I... I don't really know," Natalie said, turning vaguely in the direction of her room.
She closed the door behind her and climbed shakily into bed. She looked at herself in the dresser-mounted mirror across from her bed. Deathly pale skin, that couldn't be good. She remembered walking home, and avoiding the bums, and then-
"Natalie, I'd hate to ask, and I won't get angry no matter what the answer," her father bustled in, bringing in a bowl of microwaved tomato soup, "But... are you doing drugs?"
"Drugs?" Natalie asked, not fully comprehending. She felt incredibly light-headed, and her wrist was itching, "No... no, not that I know of."
"You're not lying to me, are you?" her father put a hand to her forehead, checking her temperature, "Your teacher gave me a call, said you had missed a few days of school."
Natalie scratched her wrist distractedly, "She should mind her own business."
"Natalie," her father warned, "this is important."
"I know," Natalie rolled her eyes and yawned, "School's important. School's my future. I'm just really tired, can't we talk about this some other time?"
"Do you want a doctor?"
Natalie shook her head, "No, I just need a nap, I think."
"You know I'm going to want to hear exactly what happened to put you in this state," her father said as he got up.
"I'll be sure to let you know as soon as I find out, Roger," Natalie mumbled.
"I wish you wouldn't call me that."
"I'm sixteen, am I supposed to call you 'daddy' forever?"
"Why not? I am."
"Sorry... daddy."
The door closed, leaving Natalie with herself and the world. She decided to address the world and unfolded her laptop. Her wrist was still itching. Annoyed, Natalie looked at it.
"What the-?" Button-sized welts covered her wrist. Mosquito bites, dozens of them. Curiously, Natalie traced them with her left hand. It was almost like they were arranged in a shape. Fingers, a palm, wrapped around her wrist-
*ding*
Forgetting the temporary, physical concern, Natalie turned back to the glowing screen. She could worry about what happened to her later, this was a more interesting place anyways.
'One new message. The sender is not on your friends list. Accept?'
Natalie accepted.
D_Admin07: Want to know what happened on the way home?
She could see them as she walked through the front doors of school. Already they were planning something. Snatches of whispering, furtive glances. One of them, the ring-leader, she knew was named Mike. Not that she liked being picked on, but at least once in a while could the tormentor be someone who actually looked nice?
"Alright guys, check this out," Mike separated himself from the circle and strode on an intercept course with Natalie, in all his acne'd glory.
Natalie ducked her head and walked faster, maybe she could get to class before... no, she had to stop by her locker, no chance of avoiding this. Why her? What the hell stood out so much? "Gnat! Hey Gnat, hold up, I wanna ask you something!"
Eyes rolling on cue, Natalie tried to ignore him, and the joyful nickname he gave her. "Come on Gnat, what's the matter, can't talk?"
"What?" she called over her shoulder, regretting it as she did.
"When do you plan on burning down this school, Gnat?"
Natalie stopped and turned on him, "I didn't burn down anything, ever."
"Sure you didn't Gnat. We all know you're an arsonist. What's the matter, that desperate for attention?" Mike taunted.
"I'm getting more attention than I want, actually," Natalie said back.
There were mutterings from Mike's hanger-ons. "I could give her the kind of attention she really wants," one voice said.
A middle finger was offered to the group and Natalie turned to leave. Mike laughed at the gesture, "Hey, don't get pissed at me just because you don't have a mother."
That was it, Natalie rounded on them, unslinging her bag, "Alright asshole, I'm going to-"
"What's going on here?"
Mr. Voldsted walked into the brewing fight, all receding hairline, thick glasses and officiousness, "Natalie Grant, isn't it?"
"She was going to attack me," Mike protested, suddenly all innocence.
Stepping forward in anger, "I'll fucking-"
"You'll do nothing," Mr. Voldsted stepped smoothly between the two parties, "Mike, get to class and stop causing trouble. Natalie, I, along with the rest of the staff, know exactly why you're here, and we're keeping an eye on you. Stay out of trouble, for your own sake."
"That was really sucky, what happened to you this morning," Eric said over a bite of powdery mashed potatoes.
"You saw?" Natalie asked, then shook her head, "Course you did, everyone did."
New school, new life, chance to start over, right? Apparently not. Thanks to the wonders of the internet, any asshole with a little persistence could find out just why she had to move out here. And any dumbshit asshole with a little less persistence could come across a dozen half-baked rumours about why she had to move out here. And any twit without an internet connection at all could get ahold of those rumours through said dumbshit asshole and further mutate them into stories of mass arson.
New school, same treatment, new rumours, and the only available non-hostile social contact a geeky twerp who spent more time talking to her chest than her face. Her chest wasn't even that big, apparently he was hoping that he could win over the heart of the girl everyone else picked on. Whatever, it was still social contact of a sort.
"This place sucks just as much as Wilmot," Natalie muttered, "I think the food might actually be worse."
"I could take you out to eat somewhere," Eric offered, "I got my temps last week, and I'm sure I could convince mom to lend me the... sorry."
"Sorry, for what?"
"The whole mother thing," Eric said.
"What? Are you scared I'm going to knife you in the middle of the lunchroom?" Natalie rolled her eyes, "Look, my mom's a bitch who left me when I was eight, okay? Probably ran off with some rich fucker. My dad's still in love with her, and I want to kill her, that's it. That asshole Mike just hit a soft spot and was already annoying me, just mentioning my mom isn't going to send me into a psychotic rage, got it?"
"Okay, okay, fine, sorry," came the hurried apologies.
"Hey, you're in my spot," came a voice from above.
Natalie looked up and groaned. Secretly she wondered when this time would come. The 'triplets' had been staring at her since the moment school started two weeks ago. Mary, Tom and Cal. "Fine, whatever, I'm going," Natalie grabbed her tray.
"Not you," Mary said and glared at Eric as Tom and Cal took up flanking positions beside him, "We're having a little friendly time with Natalie."
Eric knew the score, knew his position on the social totem pole. He wordlessly got up and left. The three sat down around Natalie, who resumed eating. Sick of the whole thing, she resolved to take a course of apathy through this little encounter. "We've been keeping an eye on you."
"Great, so I've scored a few stalkers," Natalie grumbled, "I'm overjoyed."
Mary idly took a few baby carrots from Natalie's tray and chewed on them, "We've been talking, and decided you seem to be a pretty cool girl, Natalie."
Natalie looked up from her mashed potatoes, wary, "...and?"
"Come on, you know what I'm talking about," Mary said, "This place sucks. The people here suck. You know you're that much better than practically everyone else, especially that twerp you were sitting with."
"So what?" resuming apathy as a defensive measure.
"You're not alone Natalie."
"Who says I don't want to be alone?"
Mary shrugged, standing up, "Suit yourself. But, if you want to find someone to actually talk to about it, and have the chance to actually do something worthwhile with yourself, why not chill with us? Say, Thursday, before lunch, behind the sports shed?"
"Natalie Grant, please report to the principle's office."
Natalie blinked, realizing everyone was staring at her. It took her mind a second to comprehend the message just given over the loudspeaker. "Aren't I just the popular one today," she grumbled, getting up.
Ten minutes later, Natalie was ushered into the office of the school psychiatrist, Dr. Larson. "Come on in Natalie."
"Why the hell am I here?"
The woman behind the desk looked directly at Natalie. She couldn't have been older than her mid-twenties, "Because things probably suck for you right now."
"Suck? That doesn't sound very professional."
"Yeah, but if I remained professional, we'd accomplish nothing in here Natalie. In professional speak, you're here because the school has expressed concern over your previous behaviour."
"So you think I'm crazy and dangerous."
Dr. Larson smiled, "Yeah, they do. More precisely, they're worried about the image of their school, and don't want to get it tarnished with a quote-unquote problem student."
Natalie smiled back, there was no humour in it, "That's great, and you're supposed to be the hip, friendly counselor who I'm going to open up to and help me work through what must be nothing more than deep, inner angst?"
"I'm here to talk to you, Natalie, as much on your terms and as much at your pace as possible. Unfortunately you're required to be here, and there's nothing I can do about that, but other than that, I'm giving you practically free reign."
"Great," Natalie snorted, "So what the hell am I supposed to do?"
There was something vaguely uncomfortable about the way the doctor was looking at her. It seemed like she was staring at some point that wasn't her eyes, wasn't any part of her body, but still shared the same space as her. Like the chatting was nothing more than a formality for some sort of wordless examination. "Well, you've heard of doctor patient confidentiality? Consider this your bitching hour. No consequences, no regrets, let loose and say whatever you want about whoever you want. I'll listen, even chip in if you want, and afterwards, I can't tell anyone about it."
"That's nice," Natalie said, "but I don't bitch on command."
The stare was getting unnerving, "No, and you don't have to. But since we have to spend this hour together every week, might as well make something of it?"
"What's that?" Natalie asked.
"What?"
"That," Natalie pointed to a small picture hanging on the wall, sandwiched between a framed degree and a shot of what was presumably family members. A painting of a snake biting its tail, "Isn't that a... what's it called? Aribols or something?"
"Ouroboros," Dr. Larson corrected, "and no, not quite. It's Jormungand, the world-spanning serpent of Norse mythology."
"Cool," Natalie said, "I always liked that design."
After an hour of tepid conversation, Natalie was finally allowed to leave. Well, in the end it did beat going to Formatting class and trying desperately to dumb herself down to the stuff that was being taught there. Maybe she should just take the rest of the day off, it had been going horribly enough as it was, and none of the other classes she had that day took attendance.
There were two other students in the office as she walked through. The vice-principle was behind his own glass door, working on reports or something in all his bald glory. Was it a rule that all male teachers over the age of thirty had to be losing their hair? Or maybe the job drove them to it. One of the kids in the office waved to her. It wasn't an unfriendly or mocking wave, Natalie looked up and realized they were both seniors. Those two Chinese-looking kids that weren't exchange-students, though they sure looked that way. Kouzo and Haru, Natalie remembered their names, always hanging out together, not popular, exactly, but no one seemed to ever mess with them or talk about them in anything less than positive terms.
Maybe it was the way they looked at you, like every moment was spent determining the fastest way to break your neck should the need arise.
Dr. Larson put Natalie's file away and looked up as two familiar faces entered her office. "Couldn't you two at least pretend to act like students?"
"Why?" Haru said, "I didn't ask to be here, I'm only her mom a favour."
"I'm not very good at acting," Kouzo said, slowly and carefully.
"So is she, y'know, going to do it?" Haru asked, impatient.
Dr. Larson chuckled, "You ask as if I have any way of knowing for sure."
"You don't?"
"Knowing that kind of thing for sure? It's impossible."
"Well what good are you?" Haru snapped.
"Do you want to know what I found out or not?" Dr. Larson said sternly.
"Yeah," Kouzo said, "That's probably a good idea."
Dr. Larson and Haru both looked at Kouzo. It had taken him a good eight seconds to enunciate that sentence. "What?"
"Anyways," the doctor continued, "It took her all of two minutes to spot the picture of Jormungand and point it out with no prompting from me."
"Which means?" Haru asked.
"Either she's got freakish interest in Norse mythology, or it set off a subconscious trigger in her," Dr. Larson shuffled papers about with no real purpose, "Or something else entirely."
"Is that it?"
"No, I also had a look at her."
"Well so did we," Haru said.
"Yeah," Kouzo agreed, "She looked short, with a ponytail, and a Hello Kitty backpack, and-"
"Shut up," Haru said.
"No," Dr. Larson said, "I don't mean like that, I meant I had a look at her, a little deeper than that. She's stressed out to all hell, more so than any normal person has a right to be."
"Meaning..." Haru goaded.
"Either she's the most angst-ed out teenager in human existence... or there's something outside acting on her essence."
"So she's going to change?" Kouzo asked.
"Can't say for sure," the doctor said, "But if it came down to it, I'd bet on it."
"You know, I've always wanted to ask," Haru said, scrutinizing the doctor, "Aren't you violating that whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing by telling us this stuff?"
"I've rationalized it," Dr. Larson explained, "Doctor-patient confidentiality prevents me from telling any other human what I find out about a patient unless there's a direct threat to their well-being. No offense, but I don't think either of you fully qualify as 'human' anymore."
gzmogrl: Alright, tell me. D_Admin07: You told no one? gzmogrl: Why'd you make me wait a day? D_Admin07: You told no one? gzmogrl: No, no one, what the hell happened yesterday? My wrist is itching like hell. D_Admin07: Your number. gzmogrl: What? D_Admin07: You will give me your cell phone number. You have a cell, right? gzmogrl: Yeah, why? D_Admin07: We'll need to keep in contact while you head out.
Natalie got off the bus. The temperature was heading steadily downward again, looked like the warm break was over. It wasn't too bad a section of town, far better than what she had to walk through yesterday. A half-block's walk was all it took to reach the right address. Natalie looked up at the squat building. She checked her phone's message history, double-checking the address. It was correct.
Why a hotel?
Her phone vibrated, a new message: 'Guest log.'
She typed back, 'How? Why?'
No response. Why the hell was she here? This was miles from where whatever the events of yesterday were happened. Feeling more like she was wasting the afternoon than finding out some great mystery, Natalie stepped inside the motel. There was a woman a few years older than her behind the receptionists desk, "Hi! Can I help you?"
"Um," Natalie fumbled, "I'm... just waiting for someone."
The woman gave a suspicious look, then went back to what she had been doing a moment before, which was apparently nothing. Natalie found herself a seat in one of the cracked leather chairs. A gun magazine and Cosmo shared an uneasy piece on the table while a set of cheap unlit candles watched over both. Natalie did her part, insofar as she had no idea why she was here, by shifting and craning her neck around to look out the window, waiting for someone who would conveniently never come.
'Wait for an opening,' her vibrating phone told her. Natalie waited, becoming more and more certain she had wasted bus fair and an evening on this.
The opening came fifteen minutes later, as the woman behind the receptionist's booth left for the bathroom. Natalie took the chance and slipped into the woman's seat. She hadn't even logged out, kinda sad. Then again if Natalie had to do this for a living, she'd probably be too bored to care as well. Some browsing revealed a folder labeled 'logbook', containing more folders arranged by date. The folder for today revealed a series of excel files, tables arranged by name, check in date and time, and check out. On cue, her phone vibrated.
'March 9.'
Shrugging, still having no idea what the hell she was supposed to be looking for, Natalie opened the matching folder. Like the rest, a long list of names, arranged by time. She glanced carelessly down the list. Something caught her eye, a familiar looking name. Natalie re-scanned the list. Her eyes stopped about a third of the way down.
Grant, Cynthia.
Several seconds later, Natalie gasped as she suddenly realized she had been forgetting to breathe. She looked at the name again, afraid, half hoping it would disappear, that she had just hallucinated it. It remained there, as real as anything on a computer screen could be.
"What the hell are you doing?"
The woman had returned. Natalie jumped so badly she tipped over the chair and nearly took herself down with it. Hopping sideways on one foot, trying to extricate herself from the fallen seat, Natalie eventually managed to stumble out from behind the booth. She mumbled something about not stealing anything and pushed her way past the surprised receptionist. Angry words followed her out of the motel and onto the sidewalk, Natalie heard but disregarded, they were extraneous, unimportant.
At the bus stop she finally found time to stop and think about it. How did... what was she... why? Natalie's lips moved, partially disconnected from the majority of her mental train at the time. The word 'mother' was mouthed, if not whispered. The roar of the approaching bus drowned out any possible voice anyways. Natalie stumbled forward on to the bus. She was halfway in the door when a hand curled around her wrist.
"Hey girl, wanna see someth-"
Natalie yanked away and all but dove into the bus. Shaking hands dumped far too much spare change into the machine and she found her way to a seat. Even through the swamp her thoughts had been caught in, some sort of fear at that voice, at that hand, had spurred her forward like nothing she had ever felt before. There was a stab of pain in her gut as she looked out the window and saw a wide-brimmed hat surmounting a bone-thin figure at the bus-stop.
The pain in her gut gradually migrated to her arm. Through the mindfog, she realized she had been rubbing vigorously and painfully. The mosquito-bite swellings burned anew.Shattered images. Roger's worried face hovering over her. Warm blankets that felt cold relative to something burning under her skin. Sweat, lots and lots of sweat. Occasionally an ice cold liquid forced between her lips. Never enough. Looking around her room and seeing it differently, populated with strange, half-formed things that watched her with interest. Her mother, always just out of reach, looking at her with eyes that spoke of madness and destruction.
Natalie opened her eyes. The first thing that hit her was the smell, she needed a shower, badly. Moving her head was difficult at first, minor explosions of pain in her neck telling her the motion was unwelcome. Eventually the bursts died down to the discontent grumbling of cramps. Her arms put up less protest, but still ached as she slowly peeled the blankets off of her. Perhaps it was time to try sitting up now? A quick internal check first. The fever seemed to have finally burned itself away. How long had it lasted? A day? Several? Natalie pushed herself up, cringing at the coating of sweat she seemed to have gained.
Something in the corner of her vision drawing her attention. Rectangular. Her laptop, comfort. Natalie reached for the machine."To be honest, you're the last person I would be telling this, no offense."
"None taken."
"It's just that Rog- my dad has the habit of saying the exactly wrong thing and jumping to the wrong conclusions about things. And after the fever... he'd just be worried that I'm going insane."
"I see. Well, like I said before, nothing said here goes beyond these walls, what's been bothering you?"
Natalie looked at the psychiatrist, "I think I'm going insane, doc."
Dr. Larson didn't look at all phased by the comment, "An understandable concern. In what way?"
"It... it has to do with my mother... god this is retarded. Look... what do you know about me?"
"Only what the school knows about you, Natalie. Basically, your previous expulsion, apparently you had some disciplinary problems back at Wilmot-"
"What about my mom?"
"To put it as lightly as possible, as far as I know she's not a major presence in your life."
"Yeah, that's putting it lightly," Natalie grumbled, "She left me and my dad pretty much out to dry when I was... oh, about eight years back. Dad says she had joined some sort of cult or religious thingie. Me? I think she just found someone with more money to run away with. Unfortunately daddy's completely hopeless when it comes to her. He has the, you know, whatever it is when you can't imagine someone doing anything wrong, and just rationalize it all away. Me? I think she's a gold-digging bitch and wish she'd get the fuck out of my life."
"So what you're saying is that she isn't out of your life yet?"
"No! That's the thing, um, doc-"
"Call me Claudia."
"Right, Claudia, that's the thing that worries me. She had been out of my life. The whole eight years I hadn't seen or heard a thing about her, except for dad's pining. It sucked at first, but eventually I realized I'm better off without someone like that bitch in my life."
"If you haven't seen her since you were... eight? How do you know what she's really like? She might have changed, or she might not be what you thought she was when you were younger."
"Do you know her?" Natalie all but snarled.
"No."
"Then butt out, this is my life. Where was I? Oh yeah, so just recently I get a... a message from someone. They said they have information about my mom. And, well, what they've given me so far... it checks out. They told me about a motel she was staying at and..." Natalie hesitated, "It's true, I checked for myself, she was there. But right after that... well, that's when the fever hit."
"Who are 'they'?"
Natalie looked up, Claudia's tone had changed slightly. The entire atmosphere of the room had changed. The psychiatrists eyes had been open and friendly before, now they were focused, pointing straight at Natalie as if trying to scour any possible information from her. "Just... just someone I met online."
"Online?" was that surprise in her expression?
"Yeah, listen," Natalie was suddenly very nervous, "I have to go, can we cut this session off early? I really have to, I mean, I... just have to go."
Natalie was gone for a full minute before Dr. Larson spoke, "I'm pretty sure it's safe now."
For a moment nothing happened. Perhaps the temperature felt a few degress colder, but it was hard to tell. Besides, that was a minor concern compared to the suddenly flickering lights. The flickering became erratic, then sporadic, then gave out altogether. In the dim light managing to pierce through the single small window in her office, looking out to a cloudy day outside, the doctor noticed her papers suddenly whipping about the room in a sudden blast of cold air.
The lights slowly flickered back on, as if nothing happened. The only sign of disturbance were the scattered sheets of paper all over the office floor. Dr. Larson sighed and got up to collect the fallen documents. She looked up, "Do you guys have to make such a flashy entrance all the time?"
Kouzo stood behind her desk. There was no way he could have come in the door unnoticed, and the window wasn't the type that actually opened. "Sorry about that. It's not something we can really help."
"So what did you find out?"
Kouzo shrugged. He walked carefully around the desk to where Natalie was sitting. He ran a finger experimentally along the seat. There was still a lingering trace of warmth from her presence. "I've never dealt with someone actually changing," Kouzo admitted, "But from what I could see, she's got the interest of a lot of things."
Claudia looked up, worried, "Unfriendly?"
"Just curious, I think," Kouzo said uncertainly, "It's hard to blame them, she's unconsciously pushing against boundaries pretty hard now. I'm worried that she might accidentally tear through."
"Isn't that what you guys are supposed to be best at, though?" the doctor asked, "Well, aside from destroying things, that is."
"I guess we are, but it doesn't mean we won't get lost if we go too far. And she's an even bigger risk, since she has no experience at this."
"Great, just put that on top of everything else. Maybe she won't change."
Kouzo laughed, "Best of luck with that. She's too much like her mother."
"Yeah, I think others are taking notice of that too," Dr. Larson's expression turned dark, "They're always looking for more."
"If and when she changes, we'll just have to get to her before they do," Kouzo said.
"Then we'll have to keep an even closer eye on her than before."
Natalie leaned against the brick wall for support. Was she having a relapse? What had compelled her to walk home in the first place? Taking the bus would have been far easier, quicker, not to mention safer considering the growing track record of bad things happening on the way home.
Maybe it was because outside, in the sunlight, she didn't have to worry about the hallucinations? In her own room she felt mostly safe, but that might be just because she had the laptop to distract her. Anywhere else inside, or at night, or basically anywhere there wasn't full sunlight, she was beginning to get glimpses of things she couldn't quite explain. The inexplicable nature of them came from her complete inability to find any sort of physical analogue to what they looked like. Often it was nothing more than a peripheral glimpse of something that often disappeared before she had time to consciously react to it, leaving her with a memory of a vague, ill-defined shape.
The dizziness slowly faded. It was the worst spell yet, and Natalie was getting scared. It wasn't just the fact that it was a dizzy spell, it was quite unlike anything she had experienced before. The closest she could compare to was a time when she was younger and accidentally dehydrated herself. That rushing feeling, watching the world, and all of your senses receding away, the feeling of standing senseless over a void and about to fall in. Yet this was different, this time her senses weren't receding, and the void beneath wasn't. Natalie felt like she was about to fall into something else, some place that was at the edge of her fevered peripheral vision.
"Hey Natalie, we missed you."
Natalie looked up, immediately on the defensive. Mary was standing under the overhang of a closed antiques shop. Tom and Cal loitered nearby, kicking something back and forth. There was no traffic at the moment. "What do you mean?" Natalie asked.
Mary gave her a disapproving look, "We were supposed to hang out today, remember? You stiffed us, that's not very cool, is it?"
"I was sick," Natalie sighed.
"Not today you weren't," Mary countered.
"Yeah, well," Natalie tried to shrug dismissively, "nearly dying from a fever tends to push other things out of your mind. I forgot, I'm sorry."
"It's cool," Mary said, "we can just hang out here."
Natalie began backing up, noticing that Tom and Cal had gotten up, as if a silent cue had been passed between Mary and them, "Actually, I have to be getting ho-"
"Come on Natalie," Cal said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along.
With a joyful giggle, Mary pushed open the shop door and vanished into the musty darkness inside. Natalie protested and struggled, but Cal was easily twice her size, bulging out with the frame and general smell of a farmer. She was yanked unceremoniously into the store as well. Tom pulled up the rear, closing the broken door behind him. "Let me go, asshole!" Natalie cried, finally working her wrist loose.
Tom made it clear that he would move to stop Natalie from trying to get out. Now scared and trapped, Natalie looked around at all three, "Alright, what the fuck is going on here?"
"We're hanging out," Mary said and laughed, "Don't worry, we're not going to rape you or anything."
It was said jokingly, but there was something in her tone of voice. The implication of rape just thrown so casually around, especially in this situation, implied that if that was the goal, they'd have no issues with doing it. Natalie backed up into one of the dusty shelves. The store was mostly cleared out, but the occasional relic lay about, deemed not worth the effort of clearing out when the former owners packed up shop.
"Easy hon," Mary said, "We just wanted to officially make you part of the gang."
Natalie had had enough, she bolted. Obviously expecting this, Cal grabbed her from behind, "Not so fast Miss," he rumbled.
Her struggles yielded nothing in the way of escape. An attempt to bite him was rewarded with something cold and sharp being pressed against her throat. Natalie froze. "There's a good Miss," Cal said, Natalie could hear the disgusting smile in his voice.
Mary pulled out an empty syringe and took a step towards Natalie. Now hyperventilating, Natalie's eyes never left the needle. "We're all blood brothers," Mary explained, wielding the syringe, "and we want you to join us. All we have to do is make sure your blood's the proper type. Just a little prick is all."
All of Natalie's systems had simply frozen up by this point. Too petrified to move, she offered no resistance as Mary took her arm, "Now to find that goddamn vessel."
"What's going on here?"
Tom looked the most surprised out of everyone. He was the one initially blocking Natalie's escape, thus he was the closest to the door when, of all people, Haru walked in. Natalie, in her current state, waited surprisingly patiently for the foreign student to make some cutting remark. Instead she did what most every hero and protagonist Natalie had ever seen, read, or heard of, lacked the intelligence to do. She quickly grabbed the nearest item, an iron pot encrusted with dust, and whipped it at Mary.
Natalie was currently in shock from having a knife pressed against her throat and a psychotic bitch threatening her with a syringe, she wasn't quite certain of the reality of what she saw. From what little she could make sense of, the pot struck Mary across the side of her head, giving her an almost comical expression of stupefied surprise as she was knocked down. Tom, by this time, had recovered and was now trying to jump Haru from behind.
All Natalie could focus on was the expression of pure joy on Haru's face as she turned and, with one smooth motion, caught Tom's nose between her forefinger and middle finger, holding it tightly between a pair of knuckles. Stepping to the side, she let his own momentum carry him forward while giving her hand a sharp twist. There was a sickly wet crunching noise and Haru pushed a now unresisting Tom to the floor, there was something red on his deformed nose.
"Hey dickless, want me to show you how to use that thing?"
Cal angrily shoved Natalie to the ground and charged Haru, knife forward. Natalie was too busy grabbing her neck to watch anything. She had felt the hideous sensation of the blade sliding along, but it didn't seem like he had broken the skin. She could hear Haru giving a short, sharp cough of a shout, and a second crunching noise, this one much dryer sounding than the first. Cal let out a grunt of pain and there was a metallic clattering.
The first thing that got Natalie's attention when she looked up was the knife lying on the ground. It was in her hand and being hid as safely as it could in her pocket before she had a chance to think about it. During this she looked up to see Haru holding Cal in some sort of armlock, his wrist bent at an unnatural angle. The fight wasn't out of him yet though, and he proceeded to hit Haru across the jaw with his free hand. Though the angle he was held at prevented him from lending his full weight to the blow, it was still a strong enough hit to cause her lip to split open. The only reaction it seemed to inspire in her was an overjoyed laugh, her eyes glimmering with some perverse happiness in the violence.
Whatever fight was left in Cal quickly evaporated as Haru experimentally twisted his broken wrist back and forth. The further crunching noises this caused reduced Natalie to a series of dry heaves, and by the scream that Cal let out, he wasn't enjoying this too much either. "Anything else you wanted to try?" Haru asked, a slight Asian accent colouring her words.
Cal grunted.
"What was that?" Haru asked, giving his wrist a cautionary jiggle. Did she have to look so frighteningly into this?
"N...nothing," Cal managed to sputter after another pained shout.
Haru nodded approvingly, "You're going to get your little friends and get the hell out of here?"
Cal nodded.
"And if I ever catch you so much as looking at this girl the wrong way," Haru warned, "Your other wrist is going the way of the first, understand?"
Natalie cringed at the hand that was placed on her back. She had hyperventilated and was trying to regain some semblance of balance. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Half walking, half dragged out of the closed store, Natalie blinked in the light. The clouds had cleared out, and what had just happened was already becoming fuzzy and indistinct in her mind. Haru handed Natalie her bag. "Hello Kitty?" she asked incredulously.
"I like it," Natalie said defiantly, if a bit shakily.
Haru shrugged, "Whatever, why don't we get you cleaned up somewhere safe?"
"I... I don't need the help," Natalie said uncertainly, "You're the one that... um..."
Natalie's pointing finger identified a small red spot on Haru's white blouse, blood. The stark physical evidence of the violence that just happened practically glowing in the sunlight. Haru laughed, "Oh that's nothing, blood washes right out."
"Blood..." Natalie said, "Right, look... thanks... I should really get home though."
"Come on," Haru persisted, "I want to make sure you're all right."
"Well I am," Natalie said, turning and walking away.
Haru jogged alongside her, "So... you nearly got raped or something, and you're just going to walk it off?"
"Yeah, I'm coping," Natalie spat.
"Right, that's great," Haru said, "and the best way to cope after being victimized while walking alone is... to continue walking alone?"
"You scared them off, right?" Natalie asked.
"Sure, you think that's going to put them off for long?"
"Well... shouldn't it?"
Haru laughed in response, "No, all that means is they're just going to be more careful about it next time."
"How the hell would you know?"
"Because they weren't looking to rape you," Haru said bluntly, "What they intend, it's going to take more than just a curb-stomping to put them off."
Natalie stopped walking and glared at Haru. She managed to hold the glare for a few seconds before the other girl's expressionless brown eyes burned through her resilience. "And why should I trust you about this?"
"You don't have to," Haru shrugged, "But I'm going to be keeping an eye on you and trying to keep you out of trouble no matter what choice you make. It's just a lot easier for me, and less risky for you, if you just go along with me."
Natalie wavered. Haru was actually an inch or so shorter than her, but something about her posture made Natalie feel like the girl was looming over her. She was, to put it bluntly, terrifying. It wasn't just the fact that she had just casually beaten down three people at once, snapping bones in at least two of them. It was her attitude, the sadistic joy on her face as she fought, almost inhuman.
Natalie wilted, "Alright, alright, what do you want me to do?"
"Just chill with me for a while, you like movies?"
Natalie woke up screaming. Her hands clutched at blankets and her eyes darted around the dark room. It was far too dark in here, the orange streetlights outside proving to be far inadequate to her needs. She went to a plastic rectangle for comfort, it's flatscreen monitor providing a soothing glow. Natalie checked her contacts list, found who she was looking for, and breathed a sigh of relief that they were online.
gzmogrl: You're sufficiently anonymous, so I'm venting on you. D_Admin07: You're questioning your sanity. gzmogrl: Lucky guess. D_Admin07: The sickness, the visions, and now the dreams. D_Admin07: Not the best of nights to be spending alone.
Natalie blinked. She had gotten home somewhat late after spending time with Haru and Kouzo, watching bad samurai movies. The house had been dark, and a note from Roger had informed her that he was going out on a date tonight, and there was some pizza in the fridge, don't overeat. After thanking a non-present Roger for feeding into her self-image issues with that comment, Natalie had eaten and gone to bed. It had been, all in all, a good evening. Aside from being threatened with a knife and syringe, having bouts of vague hallucinations, and watching several people get bones snapped, that is.
Though loathe to admit it, Natalie had found herself actually having a lot of fun with Kouzo and Haru. They had a great time picking apart several bad movies in Haru's apartment. It was social, but a very small sort of social that didn't make Natalie immediately seal up on all fronts. She had passed the... oh how many times in school hallways now? They had unnerved her, and in a way, they still did. Natalie hadn't forgotten the look of joy on Haru's face as she attacked the triplets. But that unease seemed to transform slowly into something resembling comfort, or at least mental tolerance when they were sharing Haru's apartment space. Natalie even found herself quietly envying Haru's independence and private living space.
Then she had come home, eaten, gone to bed, and promptly fallen into some of the worst nightmares she had ever had. Natalie didn't dream often, and when she did, they were rarely positive. They got much worse when she was particularly stressed. But they had never made her wake up screaming before this time.
gzmogrl: How'd you know I was alone? D_Admin07: Lucky guess. gzmogrl: You have a lot of those, who are you? D_Admin07: Someone who can help you.
Her scream hadn't roused any sort of response in the house. The clock stated that it was just past midnight, and Natalie couldn't hear the familiar rumble of Roger's snoring. He hadn't come back home yet. For a moment the image of a twisted, alien landscape flashed across her mind. It wasn't that part of the dream that had frightened her. She had felt like an inhabitant of that unknown world, living with the vague, nebulous images of others of her kind. But that wasn't what inspired her to wake up screaming.
D_Admin07: The nightmares are only the beginning. The sickness was an unintended event. gzmogrl: Okay, that's nice, either you're going to start giving some clear answers, or you're getting blocked. D_Admin07: You're not going to block me. gzmogrl: Watch me. D_Admin07: You want to know more. About the fever, about the dreams and hallucinations... about your mother. D_Admin07: You're willing to put up with a lot to learn more. gzmogrl: Do you get off on being annoying?
Natalie didn't like this feeling. She kept telling herself it was just a dream, but the effects and fear continued to persist. Only half her attention was on the computer screen. Glances towards the deep shadows that encroached from every end of the room failed to allay her fears. She felt like she was being watched, by something that was perpetually right behind her eyes, as little sense as that made. That was what had inspired the screaming. Just before she had woken up her dream had shifted. She had been in her room, looking over the familiar objects outlined by the insufficient glow of streetlights. But they hadn't been familiar. She regarded them with an alien curiosity, drawing no familiarity or comfort from them. She hadn't even been able to recognize her own computer.
D_Admin07: Your mother knows what's happening to you. gzmogrl: ...what? gzmogrl: What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On? D_Admin07: Nothing you can hope to stop. But you can try to make the most of it. gzmogrl: Thanks a lot, that explains everything. D_Admin07: It's not something that can be explained until after the fact. gzmogrl: Fuck it, consider yourself blocked.
In her dream, her attention had transferred from the suddenly alien objects of her room, to herself. For just an instant, she saw herself as something completely unknown. Her sleeping body as nothing more than a resource to be used. Some small part of her mind had protested, had been aware of what and who she was, but it was impotent and overruled by something else, something that decided she was useful to its purpose. Just before she had woken up screaming, she watched through the eyes of something else as it entered her body."You're not looking too good," Eric said.
Natalie rested her head against the locker, "It's nothing, just a few stressful days."
"Yeah," Eric said, "Listen, I missed you the past couple of days, when you were out sick and all. I was meaning to ask you something..."
"Could you make it quick?" Natalie said distractedly, "I'm meeting Kouzo and Haru for lunch, they're taking me out to eat."
"...Oh," Eric seemed a little off-put by the remark, "Umm, well, I was thinking... this Friday, did you want to go somewhere to eat with me?"
Natalie slowly turned and looked at him, "...Eat with you?"
"Yeah, look, my parents are giving me a forward, and letting me use the car, and I thought you might like to..."
Natalie grabbed her bag and slammed her locker, "Listen, I really gotta go or I won't have any time to enjoy the meal. Wait a minute..."
Eric looked up, hopeful, "Yeah?"
"Something's missing-" Natalie looked thoughtful, "You haven't seen the... the triplets around today, have you?"
"No, none of them," Eric said, "Funny that they all miss on the same day..."
"No big loss," Natalie muttered, turning to walk away.
"Wait!" Eric said, a tone of desperation in his voice, "What about eating out on Friday?"
"Fine, whatever."Mary stood outside the door. It was hanging slightly ajar, and if she wanted, she could peer into the room beyond. But she knew that doing so would make things much worse. Muttered voices could be heard from within. Cal and Thomas had wanted to come with, but she had wisely decided to keep them out of this. Out of all of them, Mary was the only one who had had direct contact with the chosen.
The muttering had come to a stop, there were footsteps heading towards the door. Mary stepped back and kept her head respectfully low as the door opened and someone came out. All Mary saw was a pair of dirty jeans and worn boots striding by, the owner giving her no sign of acknowledgment. A rough-edged voice came from inside the room, "Come in Maria."
Mary walked through the door, the room inside was dark, lit only by one small lamp. Sitting by the desk was an older man who at one time was likely very handsome, before several layers of scarring had removed any trace of that. He looked directly at Mary with an expression that didn't even qualify as disdainful. He regarded her as one would an item, a tool. "You didn't get her blood," he said.
"No sir," Mary replied, keeping her head down.
"Come here, put your hand on the table."
Mary was now terrified, but she moved immediately. She knew from long experience that any sort of hesitation would make things much worse. She heard the scraping of metal and realized what was happening a moment too late. Mary screamed as a shearing pain crawled up her hand and wrist, origination from her fingers. The older man grabbed her forearm and held her in place as Mary reactively tried to pull away.
A second later it was over, Mary was released to stumble backwards, holding a suddenly wet hand that felt very wrong. Her stomach turned as she looked and found a blood-covered appendage with both ring and pinky fingers missing.
"I gave you a simple enough request. Get me the blood of that girl."
"Yes sir!" Mary cried from the floor. Her legs had finally given out as the shock of what happened settled in, she cradled her hand, deathly afraid to touch the bloody stumps where her fingers once were.
The man looked at her, through her. She didn't dare to meet his eyes, "You were brought here because the family saw use in you three. The ability to better pass unremarked in certain institutions where a less obvious presence was needed. If you cannot fulfill simple obligations there, what reason do we have not to send back to the country?"
Mary's eyes widened in terror. For a moment, even the pain in her mutilated hand was forgotten, "No sir! I'm sorry!"
"Hold out your hand."
Shaking, Mary did so. The dagger that had sliced off her fingers was placed there. "You have one more chance. There are others who feel that you would be far better suited serving family members a little further away from the city. Fail at this, and I might end up agreeing with them."
Mary blanched, "Okay... what do I have to do?"
"Since you've failed at securing the girl's blood for testing, we'll have to try something less... subtle. Simply find a way to get the girl's blood on the dagger, and the rest will be taken care of by things beyond your control and limited understanding."
"A... any way?" Mary asked.
"Any way that leaves her alive, no matter how mauled," came the reply, "If she's part of the family, she'll survive. If not, it's no big loss."
Mary nodded her head and turned to leave, "As you wish sir."
"Mary."
The girl froze. Being addressed by name was not something that happened often.
"I didn't say you could leave yet."
"Right, sorry sir."
"I'm curious as to how you failed, I'm assuming you at least tried."
"Yes sir," Mary nodded, "Natalie... the girl had protection. I think... I think it was..."
"Yes?"
"I think it was one of your kind, sir."
"My kind?" the man's voice took on a dangerous edge.
Mary stumbled over her words, "I didn't mean anything by it, sir! I was just-"
She shrieked as the man idly backhanded her across the face. Mary collapsed to the ground, nursing a split lip with her one remaining good hand. She heard the man speaking above her, "'My kind' are the favoured of Jormungand, with power over the very nature of reality itself. Try to avoid using that sort of language, it makes it sound like you're attempting to talk down to us. I hear the Family in the countryside are less forgiving of that kind of insult."
"That stuff's horrible for you," Haru said as Kouzo munched on a twinkie at the counter.
"I have a robust constitution," Kouzo said, "I like to give it a test every now and again."
"Hey Barry," Haru said, looking up at the gargantuan man behind the counter.
"Meh," Barry said, his voice a few pitches higher than one would expect from a man his size, "How are things on your end?"
"What's wrong?" Kouzo asked, looking up.
"Nothing major," Barry said, "Just a bunch of stress over... probably nothing."
"Probably?" Haru asked.
The large man grinned in reply, "I see what you're doing there, and I'm not biting. How goes things with Natalie?"
"She's an insecure puddle of neuroses," Haru said bluntly.
"Yeah," Kouzo said, "I kind of like her."
"Great, just like her mother," Barry said, then paused, "Wait... if both of you are here... then who's..."
"I've got a..." Haru hesitated, "... a friend watching over her. If she changes, I'll know when and where it happens."
Barry held up his hands, "Hey, I'm not saying you guys don't know your business. I'd just love to know how it all works sometime."
Haru gave a grim smile in return, "Well, as soon as I figure that out myself, I'll be sure to give you a full demonstration."
"Have you talked with Claudia?" Kouzo asked, "She's been helping."
"Yeah, I know," Barry said, "I was the one who pitched the idea to her. She said something about Natalie getting fed information about Lucida through an online source."
"Who?" Haru asked, eyes narrowing, "And why?"
"Don't know, don't know," Barry said, "I'd like to get ahold of that girl's laptop and find out for myself though. Lucida's not been doing too well herself."
"Yeah," Kouzo said, "I was wondering about that, I haven't seen her around."
"She's been keeping low, she says someone's stalking her."
"Family?" Haru asked, cracking her knuckles.
Barry shook his head, "No, though I hear they're after Natalie now."
"Yeah," Kouzo said, "They-"
"They tried something with her," Haru interrupted, "I was forced to... intervene."
"Which is Haru-speak," Kouzo smiled, "... for 'I broke their bones.'"
"Did not!" Haru protested, "I only broke bones in two of them."
"Really?" Kouzo looked surprised.
Haru hung her head, "...the third I gave a concussion.""I've been here once before," Eric said, sipping his water, "I like the service."
The place was high class. The food was really good. Though Eric's ride was a minivan, it was a high quality minivan. All in all, it was the type of setting that was several social and financial strata above what Natalie was used to, which meant she felt entirely out of place. It didn't help that Eric was in a buttoned shirt and slacks, while Natalie wore a simple t-shirt and torn jeans. Her Hello Kitty bag sat beside her chair. She toyed listlessly with her food.
"So what do you think of it?" Eric asked uncertainly.
"It's... umm..." Natalie was only half paying attention, "It's really... high class?"
Why was she even here? Oh yeah, that's right, she had absentmindedly said 'yes' a few days ago. She had forgotten about the whole thing until Eric had reminded her at school earlier today. By then it was too late to attempt to back out, and Natalie figured it would take less energy and drama to simply allow herself to be taken along rather than tell him no. Now she was beginning to wonder about that. She had enough to worry about without giving this dork the impression that she wanted to do anything with him.
"Hey Natalie," Eric said, "I just wanted to say... um... sorry for, er, not sticking up for you when the triplets were there."
"Mmmhmm."
Natalie was losing the urge to even pay attention any more. At times it felt like she was going through a waking dream. The hallucinations were increasing, and several times since that night, she had had nightmares involving unknown landscapes and demonic possession. Over all of it hung an overlarge, queerly discoloured moon. They weren't even the types of things she was scared of!
"... like this song! Come on, let's dance!" Eric's voice found its way into her conscious thought.
"...what?" Natalie asked, confused, why was he still talking to her?
"Come on," Eric said, getting up and grabbing her wrist.
For a moment Natalie tensed up, she seemed to have developed a strong aversion to having her wrist grabbed recently. Forcing herself under control, she allowed herself to be dragged out of her seat. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw a slowly writhing, translucent black cloud settle around a waiter's shoulders, extending curious appendages towards her. When she looked directly at it, there was nothing there.Mary picked her way carefully through the trash-filled alley. Immediately several piles of rags, plastic, and assorted junk animated and extended dirty hands towards her, many had empty cups. Cal and Tom were waiting across the street, just enough so that they could get a decent view into the alley. Mary preferred they wait out there, as their idiocy would only make this job harder.
Several pairs of watery eyes looked her over. Though the gloom of early evening had darkened the alley, apparently they liked what they saw. Several raspy voices made appreciative comments and unsavory suggestions involving her. Mary nodded and took out the dagger she had been given. Most of the comments and murmurs stopped upon sight of the weapon. "I need the strongest and fastest one of you," she announced.
A few murmurs later and one of the bums awkwardly stood up, "Whatcha want, lil' miss?"
Mary reached into the bag she carried and pulled out a bottle. There were a few sharp intakes of breath as several of the bums recognized the expensive whisky. "Are you up to working for this?"
The disheveled man looked at the bottle, then at her, "What kinda work? I'm desperate, not stupid."
Mary held the dagger, handle outward, to the man. She also held out a picture. The man looked the photograph over, "You want her dead or something? I don't do that girl, killing is liable to get me into the wrong kinda trouble."
"No, not dead," Mary said, "Just get her blood on the knife and get that knife back to me."
The man squinted at her, "You some kinda witch or something?"
"What's it matter to you?" Mary said, "This bottle's down payment, there's another in it when you get back, do you want it or not?"
"Hey, I'm not turning it down girl," The man said hurriedly, eying the bottle, "Just wondering is all."
"She's at Mickey's," Mary gave the man a once over, "I suggest waiting until she gets out rather than trying to get in there yourself."Eric was a terrible dancer, but thankfully he spent so much time trying to take the lead and fumbling about that Natalie didn't have to concentrate at all on keeping up. She felt like she'd be unable to keep her attention there otherwise. He inexpertly tried to spin her around, and for a brief moment Natalie had a queer dual-sensation, as if, while she was there, being spun around by Eric, she was also half a step behind, trying to keep up with the swing.
Eric looked at her expectantly. It dawned on Natalie that he had just said something, no, asked something. She didn't really care. She just wanted to go home now. Everything seemed to be hovering in this fog of unreality, as if nothing here was real unless she gave her head a good shake and focused. "What? Fine," she said, not caring what the question was, just hoping that the answer would dissuade him from further questions. She didn't feel much in the mood to talk to her.
In that moment, Natalie realized what kind of signs her body language and attitude might be giving to some pubescent twit. The slow movements, the half-closed eyes, the soft, lowered voice. Someone who was already in the midst of raging hormones might mistake that for attraction, and ask a question to verify that. The reason Natalie came to that sudden realization was because Eric chose that moment to lean in and kiss her.
For a moment Natalie stood dumbfounded, wondering how the hell someone's lips suddenly ended up pressed against her own. Then she felt a tongue slip in, brushing against her teeth in an exploring fashion, and tasting slightly of chicken and wine.
The few other dancers stopped, and a number of the diners looked up curiously at the sound of a fist striking flesh, and the immediately following sound of Eric crashing into a stand of fake ferns. Natalie stood in the center of the dancefloor, now the center of attention and not caring in the slightest, quivering in fury. Her hands clenched into fists and unclenched repeatedly, one of them aching slightly. What the hell did he think he was doing? Eric tried to sputter an apology, but his words died as he saw the look in Natalie's eyes.
She was more than murderous. There was something completely nonsentient about the look she gave him. Like seeing a giant meteorite streaking inexorably towards you, certain death with no thought or regret behind it. Natalie's mind swam in a sea of mindless fury. The haze of unreality, dampening her senses and slowing her thoughts and reactions just moments before, had now gone inverse. Natalie saw, heard, tasted and felt everything in sharp relief. Physically she was rooted in place, as if the blind rage she was feeling knew that her body would be completely incapable of properly expressing it. Instead she reached out mentally, grabbing onto anything there.
A foul smelling blast of cold air swept through the restaurant, originating from somewhere on the dancefloor, knocking over ferns, scattering napkins and putting out candles. With it sprang up a sticky, clammy mist that hovered about several inches above the floor, obscuring feet and chair-legs. With a cascade of sparks, several of the lights went out in spectacular fashion, eliciting gasps from many of the diners. Their cries of shock were overshadowed by a louder scream, issued by a large woman in a far-too-revealing dress near the punch-bowl.
Something was boiling violently inside the bowl. The large woman shrieked again, then fainted outright as the bowl wobbled, then tipped over, spilling its contents on the floor. Natalie watched with curiosity as a thick stream of jellied, lumpy, flesh-coloured substance squelched out of the bowl. Several of the lumps opened up, revealing mouths filled with tiny, sharp teeth, and began shrieking. Eyes opened up near the mouths, and the sickly, lumpy pile convulsed, splitting up into a swarm of fat deformed rats.
Natalie fled Mickey's Fancy Diner amid shrieks of terror and disgust. She was beyond thought by this moment, her brain simply couldn't process all that had just happened. The best she could manage was to hold onto that feeling of anger and violation at being suddenly kissed by Eric. More thoughts slowly formed as she careened wildly down the stairs, nearly bowling over a couple that were just coming in to eat. Natalie laughed madly as they swore at her, a random, panicked girl running into them would be the least of their concerns if they actually went into the restaurant.
She stopped at the street corner, her mental facilities re-asserting themselves long enough to remind her that she should at least flee in a home-like direction. She looked up at the street-sign, trying to get her bearings.
"Hey girl, want to see something special?"
Natalie whirled around in rage. Not this! Not now!
It wasn't the same bone-thin man with the wide, floppy brimmed hat. This was a hulking, bearded bum who was holding something that glimmered in the moonlight. Without waiting for an answer, he reached out and drew the object down her arm. It took a moment for the pain to hit her. Natalie looked stupidly at the line of red on her left forearm. The line grew and dribbled its bloody contents over her flesh. The bum had just slashed her with a knife.
It was too much for her mind to handle for the moment. Something snapped deep inside.
Natalie looked up at the brickwork, gasping for breath. She looked at her arm again, some of the blood was dry. How the hell had she ended up in an alley? And why did her foot hurt so much? She looked down and saw why. She saw her tennis shoe had gone from scuffed to a bloody red. A few feet further down the alley, she saw the huddled heap of the bum that had attacked her. Though a splayed, rag-covered arm half-concealed it, Natalie saw enough of the pulpy remains of the man's face to realize why her foot hurt so much. She let out another laugh, this one much dryer and more desperate sounding than the last.
The laugh died away to a small sob.
Natalie looked back and forth, rage and confusion now displaced with an animal panic. Weaving somewhat erratically, she bolted from the alley, hoping the direction her terrified feet were taking her would lead her home.
For a few moments afterward, the only sound was the gurgling, weak intakes of breath from a dying bum. A shadow strode into the alley from the other end. It was tall and strode with confidence. It stopped and looked down dispassionately at the bum. The man's face was almost entirely kicked in, probably brain-damage at the very least... well, at least whatever the alcohol hadn't already claimed. It looked like he had a few broken ribs as well. The shadowy figure was wearing a thick trenchcoat. But when it turned and delivered one fatal stomp to the bum's skull, it became obvious that the body concealed beneath the coat was just as thick, mostly composed of muscle.
As the bum's body convulsed one last time, then sagged slightly in the final relaxation of death, the figure looked around the alley. It raised its head and sniffed the dank air. Nodding slightly, as if finding something expected, the figure then collapsed to its hands and knees. It seemed to see something of interest under a grime-encrusted dumpster. Reaching and grabbing a knife which, despite having falling in a trash ridden alley, had no detritus, grease or dirt clinging to it, the figure stood back up. It raised the knife to its mouth and licked along the blade, tasting the sticky blood on its edge.
"So it's true, she's about to change," a deep voice issued from the shadowy figure's face. One could almost hear the smile in the voice.
Natalie jumped as something clicked against her window. A few seconds later, the sound was repeated. She managed to tear her eyes away from the computer screen long enough to see a third small rock hit the window. Who was bugging her now? She had managed to get inside and sneak upstairs without issue, daddy's room door was closed, and there were sounds coming from within. It would still be a while before Natalie's quite muddled head would draw the connection and instantly disgust her.
She crawled over her bed, opened up the window, and addressed the two dark figures below, "Leave me alone!"
"It's nice to see you too!" Haru's voice came from below.
"What the hell are you two doing?" Natalie asked loudly.
Kouzo replied, "The apartment doors were locked, and we didn't want to use the buzzer this late at night.
"No, I mean," Natalie said, rolling her eyes, "What are you doing here?"
"How'd the date go?" Haru asked, eagerness in her voice.
"Couldn't you have just called and asked?"
"We wanted to see you," Kouzo said, "Make sure you're okay."
"How's the date?" Haru asked again.
"I'm not talking about it," Natalie said, rolling away from the window with a sigh.
She closed the windows to further protests and scooted off the bed, fleeing to the safety of the computer. She was crying again, she didn't want to be. It wasn't even over the events that had happened tonight this time. It was because she actually wanted to go see them, go talk to them. She fought against the feeling, it was foreign to her. The need to see others for comfort? She should be able to find that right here, and she didn't want to give that up yet."I'm going crazy," Natalie told the doctor.
Claudia looked at her, honestly concerned, "What's been going on, Natalie?"
"It's..." Natalie fought for words, in doing so, she lost the fight against her tears, "It's everything! I don't even know what's real anymore!"
She bit her lip, but the floodgates were already open, she didn't want to be losing control this easily, but she had come here to unload, hadn't she? "I'm seeing things that... that can't be. I'm hearing voices... I'm losing periods of time... and I'm doing things that... that I would... never do!"
Claudia nodded, "I won't ask for details, Natalie, nothing more than what you're comfortable giving."
Natalie glared at the doctor, "Aren't you the slightest bit concerned? I mean... I'm the trouble-child, the one who's supposed to be watched, and now I'm saying I'm crazy, doesn't that raise red flags?"
"What do you mean?" Claudia asked.
"Well..." Natalie fumbled through angry tears, "I've got nothing but a history of, you know, bad conduct behind me. Isn't this school just looking for an excuse to kick me out too?"
"Natalie," Claudia gazed steadily at her, completely serious, "The school can go fuck themselves for all I care. My concern is you and you alone."
Natalie looked up in surprise, "Really?"
"Really," Claudia said without changing her tone, "You're far more important than a bunch of stupid policies and stupider people trying to cover their professional asses, Natalie. If you're in mental pain, it's my duty to help you out of it. Everything else is secondary."
"Why?" Natalie asked, suddenly suspicious.
"It's why I got this job, Natalie, it's why I went to school for years for this. You think it's for the money?" Claudia laughed, "It's because there are people who go through all sorts of shit and have nowhere to turn to. I want to be that one to turn to."
"I just don't know what's happening," Natalie snorted, mucous now running just as freely as tears. She hated herself for breaking down this easily, but figured she might as well get it out now, "I think I might have even hurt someone... or worse."
"In what way, Natalie?"
She bit her lip... should she be confessing this? Fuck it, "Some... some bum attacked me last night... with a knife. He slashed me and I... I... I don't know, I lost time. The next thing I know... he's on the ground, not moving, and my foot's hurting a lot. I mean... I'm not trying to sound tough or anything, but I think... I think I might have killed him."
"Where did he slash you?"
Natalie held up her left arm, then looked at it with surprise. Perhaps it just wasn't quite as deep a gash as she had initially thought, she wasn't exactly stable at the time. "Natalie," Claudia said slowly, "You were attacked. It doesn't matter if you hurt him, you were defending yourself from a threat."
"Yeah," Natalie said, trying to reassure herself, "...defending myself."
"Listen, Natalie. I think the most important thing for you right now is not to be alone. Do you have any friends you can hang out with? People you feel comfortable around?"
"Yes," Natalie said before she had a chance to think, "Well... I mean, maybe. I don't know if-"
"Try and spend as much time with them as you can, Natalie. It doesn't matter if what's going on are hallucinations or not, being alone with your neuroses will not help matters right now."
"My neuroses," Natalie said, "That just sounds... happy."
"Would you like me to just flat out call you crazy?" Claudia asked, "I'm afraid professional ethics forbids me: I'm not going to tell someone they're crazy if I don't think they actually are."
"Right, friends," Natalie said, getting up to leave.
"Natalie," Claudia said, holding up a card, "If you're ever scared, or uncertain about anything, just give me a call, okay?""Eric, hey Eric, wait up!" Natalie shouted.
Eric turned and immediately began walking away rapidly, trying to avoid Natalie's gaze. "Goddamnit Eric," she yelled, "I just want to say I'm sorry!"
"Hey Gnat," Mike intercepted her, leaning against the locker and blocking her path, "What's the big hurry?"
Natalie stopped short, "Please move."
"Aw, come on Gnat, we never talk anymore," Mike said, refusing to move. A few of the other jocks were also moving in, interested by the commotion.
"That's because I don't want to talk to you, asshole," Natalie glowered, trying to find Eric over his shoulder. The other boy had already vacated the scene.
"Wow, quite a mouth you have on you, Gnat,"
"Someone should teach her how to use it," someone else chimed in.
"Don't call me that," Natalie growled. Instead of the normal intimidation she usually felt by this point, and the overwhelming urge to flee the spotlight of negative attention, she was just getting pissed off. Very pissed off.
"What'll you do for it?" Mike said, grinning widely, "I can think of a few things."
"God, you are one sick, pathetic, dickless fuck, aren't you?" Natalie grinned back, there was no mirth in it.
One of the track girls, a tall blonde by the name of Ashley stepped forward, "Hey, don't be talking about my boyfriend like that you stupid loser bitch!"
Natalie rounded on her, "Or what you... you bleached slut? Maybe anorexia is making you blind and deaf, but he's trying to put the moves on me-"
Cheers erupted from all the guys as Ashley jumped at Natalie, press-on nails extended. Natalie was pushed back against the locker and nails went down her face, leaving searing lines behind them. Surprising herself, Natalie responded with a punch, knocking Ashley off of her. She tried to lunge at Ashley, but someone was behind her, holding her back. She twisted, ready to drag her own nails down his face, and found herself staring at Kouzo.
Ashley took the opportunity to jump at Natalie again with a scream of "BITCH!"
She was stopped dead by Haru's outstretched arm. Effortlessly propelling Ashley into the stunned Mike, Haru scowled and said, "Call your blonde doggie off, meathead."
"H...hey," Mike sputtered.
"What?" Haru raised her fists, a smile creeping across her face, "You want to go a few rounds against me? Get your ass kicked by a little Chinese girl?"
"Just keep that psycho arsonist away from us," Mike said, pulling a still-protesting Ashley away, "She's gonna snap and bring a machine-gun to school, you just watch!"
"Yeah, just keep running you dickless asshole!" Natalie shouted, still pulling against Kouzo.
"Er... Natalie," Kouzo grunted, "That's my kidney your elbow's digging into."
Natalie squirmed one more time, then relaxed. Reluctantly, Kouzo let her go. She turned to face him, "Did you see that?!"
Kouzo looked confused, he ran a hand through his tangle of hair, "Um... maybe? It depends on what I'm supposed to be see-"
"They ran!" Natalie announced in glee, "Those nasty little fucks ran!"
Haru playfully punched Natalie in the shoulder, "Don't let it get to you, young grasshopper, you have much to learn."
Natalie massaged her tingling shoulder, "Guys... I'm um... sorry about last night, it was really, well-"
"Don't worry about it," Kouzo said, "We just wanted to make sure you were okay... maybe we should have called, I mean, just showing up outside your window is-"
"Yeah, great," Haru interrupted the lengthening, slow-paced speech, "Whatever, you're fine, and we've got the rest of the weekend ahead of us. What should we do tonight?""This is madness!"
Haru, Natalie and Kouzo waited the proper space of time before screaming at the theater-screen in unison, "This! Is! SPARTA!"
Natalie didn't even know a place like this existed. A theater no more than a few blocks away from her apartment that showed movies that had been released a few years ago at half price? Along with the overpriced, greasy popcorn? And she was here, laughing, quoting lines, heckling the screen and having a good time at it? With other people? Was this real? Would she have believed it was possible for her to be doing something like this even two weeks ago? Was she really this shut in?
The credits were rolling, Natalie wiped a tear of laughter from her face. "This is fun," she said, half to herself.
"What?" Kouzo asked.
"Oh, nothing," Natalie said, giggling slightly.
Haru suddenly began fumbling with her cleavage. Natalie and Kouzo stared wide-eyed until Haru finally grunted in victory and pulled a vibrating cell phone from her cleavage. She opened it up, "Yeah, what? What? Yeah, yeah she is... What? But we're... she what? But what about... oh. Well, shit. Fine, we'll check it out, should we bring her along? ...yeah, good point, fine. Alright, we'll let you know what's going on."
"What was that about?" Kouzo asked.
"Yeah," Natalie said, suspicious, "Are you spying on me or something?"
"Yup, that's right," Haru said, "We're secret Chinese double-agents intending to leverage valuable confidential information from you."
"Hey," Kouzo said, "You were born in the US, you don't get to claim that."
"And you weren't?" Natalie asked.
"No, I-"
"Kouzo," Haru's voice had changed slightly, a note of seriousness entering, "Something's up, we have to check it out."
Kouzo's smile vanished, "But what about...?"
"Natalie, did you need a ride home?" Haru asked.
"What?" Natalie asked, looking crestfallen, "I thought you were kidding about the spy shit, what's going on?"
"It's not that," Haru said, "We..."
"It's volunteer work at a psychiatric ward," Kouzo said, eying Haru to make sure she went along.
"Yeah," Haru said, picking up the thread, "They're short on bodies, they need us to come in and watch over things."
"Oh..." Natalie's expression fell, "Well... it was fun while it lasted."
"I'm sorry Natalie," Kouzo looked hurt, "We'll hang out sometime this weekend... we can give you a ride home at least-"
"No, I'm fine," Natalie muttered, "It's just a short walk, anyways."
Kouzo and Haru watched as she walked out of the theater. Finally Haru turned and kicked one of the reclining chairs, there was a loud snap as the plastic frame broke, "I hate doing all this behind her back!"
"What's up?" Kouzo asked, picking up his stuff.
"It's Lucida," Haru growled, "She called Barry in a panic, said she was being followed, hung up all of a sudden and Barry hasn't been able to contact her since."
"So we get to go find out what the hell's going on," Kouzo muttered.
"And I don't have my blade on me," Haru said.
"Why?"
"Barry keeps saying I'm not allowed to take it to school, and I didn't have time to pick it back up afterwards."
"Come on, it shouldn't be that bad," Kouzo said, "I'm more worried about Natalie being alone right now."
Haru and Kouzo left the theater. Haru muttered as she left, "I can't believe we have to play babysitter for her and her mother."
Natalie sat in her room, trying not to cry. The laptop lay open in front of her, bathing her in wan light. She could just lose herself on the internet, right? So far it wasn't working. Was this the trade-off for suddenly having a social life? Natalie was regretting it now, and hating herself for regretting it at the same time. It was just something that came up, plans had to be broken, and she had to spend the night alone... well, alone except for daddy watching movies in the living room. Maybe she should go hang out with him?
No, he'd ask questions, and she might break down yet again. What was going on with her? It was bad enough going insane, but to become emotionally fragile at the same time? No one needed to see that, and as long as she was alone, she could convince herself it wasn't really happening, right? Was this what the doctor had meant about her being alone with her neuroses? It made sense on an intellectual level, but she seemed to be operating more emotionally at the moment.
She wished she didn't have to. She wanted to just sit her ass online, chat with some random people, maybe get into a debate, and generally flee from any sort of heavy emotion. It wasn't working, she wanted to hang out with Kouzo and Haru. She hated them for bailing out on her like that, even though it wasn't even their fault, even though just last night she had bitched at them and turned them away. She was being selfish and bratty and stupidly over-emotional and she hated herself for it. And then she began hating herself for hating herself in such a stupid emo fashion. And she hated this even more because it was taking precedence over the fact that she was quite possibly going insane, and that instead of trying to figure out what was wrong with her, she was moping over not being able to hang out with people.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" she cried... but not too loudly, she didn't want daddy to hear and come in asking questions.
The laptop chimed. A new message. Eager to distract herself from her current self-obsession, she looked.
D_Admin07: Your help is required.
Natalie blinked in confusion, then began typing...
gzmogrl: Didn't I block you? D_Admin07: You can't block me. gzmogrl: Right, I can't quit you and whatever. You're getting blocked again.
Natalie pushed the correct button, smiled grimly as the message popped up, "You will no longer receive messages from this user."
D_Admin07: It won't work.
Gritting her teeth now, Natalie simply closed the chat window. A second later a new window popped up.
D_Admin07: You will help me, and you will be compensated for it
Natalie closed that window, then closed the entire program. A second later a new window popped up.
D_Admin07: You must free me.
With an exasperated, disbelieving growl, Natalie yanked the DSL cable out the side of her laptop, breaking the tiny plastic lock on it in the process. Her eyes widened in shock as a new chat window appeared on the computer that was no longer connected to the internet.
D_Admin07: This is not your choice, child of Jormungand.
Natalie pressed her palms against her temples and groaned in pain. A sudden sharp buzzing filled her head, a high pitched squeel which seemed to split her brain in half, completely bypassing her eardrums. She tried reaching towards the laptop to slam in shut when the squealing buzz changed pitch, suddenly plagueing the inside of her skull with a pattern of notes. Natalie let out a small scream as pain shot through her head. The shrieking buzz altered a little more, and something resembling a voice could be heard in the shifting, high-pitched tones.
Natalie reached forward and slammed the laptop shut. It was a distraction that had saved her from the head-splitting thing that wasn't truly a voice. Some other noise, something in the apartment that wasn't inside her head had distracted her, broken the hold that non-voice had on her attention, and gave her the strength to shut her computer down, cutting off the voice. Natalie gasped for breath, still rubbing her aching head, what the hell was that? Was it more madness coming to envelop her? Moreover, what had distracted her? There was something urgent about that other noise.
Natalie's heart froze as two gunshots echoed through the apartment. That's what the noise was, the sound of the door being kicked in. "Daddy!" she screamed, throwing the door open and bolting from the room.
The living room was nothing too impressive. It was a small apartment, really just a living room, a half kitchen, a cramped bathroom and two bedrooms for her and daddy respectively. The living room door, which led out to the stairwell, hung on one hinge. The couch was tipped over. In the other corner of the room was daddy, and someone else.
Natalie slowed to a stop, a sweat breaking out as she stared at the man. She had no idea who he was. He looked a little younger than daddy, but far older than her, clad in an inexpensive suit, black hair slick back, though slightly disheveled now, and absolutely huge. He effortlessly held daddy's arm, keeping it twisted painfully behind his back. In his other hand he held the small revolver he had obviously just wrenched from daddy's hands. Natalie now noticed two holes in the man's brown suit, blood leaking out of each. He didn't seem at all concerned with the fact that he had just been shot twice.
"Natalie!" daddy cried out in pain, "Run! Get help!"
He screamed as the arm was wrenched further behind his back. "Go Natalie!"
Natalie remained rooted in place. She was paralyzed with fear. There was no thoughts about how she wanted to go and try and save her dad, or turn tail and run. It wasn't a fear of the man with the gun, or the fact that he had apparently just taken two shots to the gut and hadn't even slowed down. It was just a pure terror, centered around the man, emanating from him. Not a fear of him, but a fear that spawned from the same spot he happened to be standing. Natalie was too scared to move, irrationally terrified that movement might draw attention, despite the fact that both daddy and the other man were staring directly at her.
Natalie screamed and flinched as another gunshot went off. Daddy's body jerked. The large man threw him to the side and advanced, "Natalie," he said in a deep rasping voice.
The gunshot had broken the spell, just briefly. Terror propelled Natalie's legs and she turned and fled the apartment. She rounded the stairwell and prepared to jump down the entire flight of stairs. She could hear a grunt as the large man vaulted the couch and came charging out of the apartment after her.
Natalie ran forward and jumped, all the while repeating to herself, "I'm sorry daddy! I'm sorry daddy!"
She wanted to go back and help him now, but there was no way she could possibly face that man. He tripped some sort of primal fear instinct in her that she had no hope of fighting... so she was leaving her dad and running. She jumped, knowing that she probably would hurt one or both her feet at the bottom, and not caring.
An arm stretched over the banister, catching her mid-leap. The air was driven out of Natalie as she was wrenched back and her hip impacted harshly with the banister, cracking the entire construction of the thing. She fell gracelessly down the stairs, banging her head twice and twisting her left leg painfully. Natalie sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, her vision blurry from the impact. She could hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and knew that she should be running. It took her a second to remember how to use her arms and legs, and slowly she pulled herself up, stumbling forward and trying to clear her vision.
Something grabbed the side of her head and slammed her into the wall, causing Natalie to fall over again. Through the pain and confusion, terror bloomed again. Her arms and legs flopped bonelessly as she tried to pulled herself forward. Something hard and heavy fell on the middle of her back, pinning her down. His boot. A second later her arms were grabbed and yanked behind her back. Natalie coughed and spluttered on the dusty, abrasive carpet. There was a tearing noise, and something cold and sticky wrapped around her wrists. Duct tape. A few more wraps and her hands were completely covered, binding her arms behind her back.
The boot was removed, Natalie could almost breathe freely again. "Owww!" she screamed as a fist curled into her hair and yanked her head off the ground.
"Get up," the raspy voice said."Shitohshitohshit!" Claudia fumbled in the glove compartment of her Kia.
Registration and a few maps fell on the floor as a shaking hand rummaged around. "Fuck! Where is it?!"
She had already broken out in a cold sweat. Swearing and slamming the glove compartment shut, she turned her attention to the drawer beneath the passenger seat. It took several tries to work her sweat-slicked fingers around the handle, but victory came and the compartment opened up. "Yes!"
Claudia yanked the revolver out of the compartment and double-checked to make sure it was loaded. After a near rape, she had never driven anywhere without a pistol close at hand. Her hands shook as she snapped the cartridge closed. She bit her lip and tried not to moan in concern. It wasn't like she didn't know how to use the weapon, Claudia was the careful type and made damn sure that if she was going to be carrying a deadly loaded weapon with her, she would at least know the basics. No, it was the fact that she was simply terrified.
She had known it from the very moment the huge man had walked by her car. She could feel it swirling about him, an almost palpable aura of intimidation. Her hair had stood up on end and her panic-reflex had made her cringe away, despite the fact that he didn't pay the slightest bit of attention to her, probably didn't even know that one of the cars he walked by was occupied. He had gone into the apartment complex Claudia was parked outside of. Where the girl, Natalie Grant, lived. After getting word that Lucida had gone missing, she agreed to keep an eye on Natalie's place while Kouzo and Haru took the more dangerous task of finding out what the hell happened to Lucida.
"More dangerous my ass," Claudia muttered as she tried to work up the will to leave the safety of her vehicle.
She wasn't the fighting type... but for the moment it was her responsibility to watch over Natalie, and that meant fighting. She had madly hoped that the man wasn't after the girl, that it was just a coincidence. But subconsciously, she knew that wasn't so. It was the aura he carried around him. He was one of them, like Kouzo and Haru, like what Natalie was likely to become. They all had that aura... but his was so much stronger, and right now, deliberately amplified.
It didn't matter that Claudia knew the seemingly irrational feelings of fright for what they were, could identify the source and know why they were occurring. It didn't matter that it was some sort of trick involving pheromones, bodily posture, and a little ethereal punch added to them. That didn't change the fact that the primal fear it caused was still there, and still very real.
When the two gunshots echoed out of the upstairs apartment, Claudia's stomach hit the floor. Her hopes were dashed, he was without a doubt after Natalie. That's when she went for the gun, wondering if she had the fortitude to use it against a walking fucking cloud of animal fear. She had to, Natalie was her responsibility.
The front door to the complex opened again and the large man came back out, this time with Natalie. Her hands were taped behind her back, and the man had one muscled, meaty paw on the back of her neck, viciously pushing her along. Claudia's hands tightened around the pistol, she had to do it now. As the man approached, the fear inside her rose again. Sweat beaded on her forehead and uncontrollable tremors swept through her body. She tried to will her arms to lift the pistol, to open the car door and confront the man.
For just a second, it looked like the man was looking directly at her. The pistol clattered softly to the car floor as Claudia's left hand shot up and hit the automatic locks. He walked by the car, Natalie in tow, as heat flooded Claudia's crotch. She had pissed herself. She had fucking pissed herself in mindless terror!
The disgusting sensation of wetness distracted her from the unnatural terror for a moment, and Natalie saw the man shove Natalie into a black Mercedes, then get in himself and pull away from the curb. Claudia started the car, spent a few seconds swearing at herself in an attempt to work up some shred of courage, then pulled away from the curb herself, following the vehicle at a very safe distance.
Claudia dropped the phone twice as she tried to fumble it open. Reaching on the floor to grab it, she nearly lost track of the Mercedes. Finally she got the phone open and quickly hit the speed-dial. A masculine voice on the other end answered after two rings, "Yeah? What's up Claud?"
"Barry!" she all but sobbed into the phone, "It's Natalie... they've taken Natalie!"
"Just what the hell are we supposed to be looking for here?" Haru grumbled.
"This is where she said she was," Kouzo said, looking at the pair of perpendicular green signs above him, "Corner of 57th and Memorial."
"Yeah, well it would help if she left a note or something, because I sure as hell don't see anything here, and this isn't exactly a nice neighborhood."
Kouzo looked up at her, "I figured you would be itching for a fight by now, the way things have been going."
"What the hell do you take me for?" Haru spat, "Yeah, maybe I do want a fight, but not if it's going to get in the way of things. Don't tell me you don't feel the same way."
"I..." Kouzo hesitated, "I'd rather not entertain those thoughts."
"Oh come on," Haru rolled her eyes, "We're the same, we could see it from the moment we met. We've got the same thing going on inside us, and have our own ways of dealing with it. You're way too goddamn calm for your own good, because I know you've got the same urge for violence I've got, and it's just going to find its own way out if you don't vent it."
"Maybe," Kouzo said, shrugging, "But like you said, it's no good if it just gets in the way of things. I've got other things to worry about right now, like finding out what happened to Lucida."
Haru waved her arms in frustration, "Look around you, does it look like we're going to find out here? What the hell are we even doing here? I want to go back and check up on Natalie."
"Claudia's got that covered," Kouzo said, examining the No Parking sign with interest.
"Yeah, and like she'd know what to do if Natalie turns, she'd probably be Natalie's first target," Haru growled, "I feel so fucking useless out here!"
The two oriental looking youngsters were drawing attention. The neighborhood was obviously not one of Milwaukee's more prosperous suburbs. The No Parking sign Kouzo was so focused on was covered in graffiti, many of the storefronts in the area looked abandoned, half were broken into, and all were covered in spraypaint. And now, various shadowy figures were heading towards them from several directions, pointing at the interlopers and talking amongst themselves.
"Hey, Haru," Kouzo said, "Take a look at this."
"What?" Haru growled, "It's a goddamn roadsign... one that's seen better days."
"Yeah," Kouzo said, "Especially this part right here."
Kouzo indicated the uneven edge of the sign. There were four jagged cuts on one side of the sign. The spraypaint around them was cracked and flaking, and the steel beneath practically glittered in the harsh yellow glow of the streetlights, these marks were made recently. "That's," Haru said.
"Yeah," Kouzo verified, "They look like claw marks."
"Hey man, this ain't a good place to be after dark," a voice said amidst laughter.
"Yeah, especially not for a couple chinks," another said.
Haru and Kouzo turned, a gang had formed behind them. "What the hell do you want?" Haru asked.
More laughter, the initial man spoke up again, "That's our question hun. What you doin' here? You with the cops?"
"We're looking for a friend," Kouzo interjected, trying to defuse the situation, "Any of you see a white woman, black hair about this long around here? She might have gotten into a fight?"
Someone else in the gang spoke up, "We see white women, we see fights, what's it to you?"
"She's a friend," Kouzo said.
"Ah hell bro, I'm talkin' what it worth to you?" the man looked at Haru, appraising her blouse and skirt, "It worth a little time with the chink bitch?"
Kouzo's mouth hung open. His brain simply wasn't processing what he had just heard. There was more laughter at his confusion. The laughter turn to appreciative whistling and cheering as Haru stepped forward. There was something a little different in her movement now, a little more twitch in her hips. She walked up to the black man, "Alright, I'll give you a little time right now."
The man smiled and put his hands on her hips, "All right sugar, that's what' I'm talking ab-"
Haru planted her knee into the man's crotch, then struck him flat in the nose with the palm of her hand, putting her full weight behind it. The man fell down gurgling as Haru turned to Kouzo, "Come on, we're not gonna find anything more here."
Other members of the gang advanced threateningly. Haru and Kouzo immediately adopted defensive stances. "Come on!" Haru shouted with a joyful smile, "Anyone else want a little time with the 'Chink bitch'? Who wants me to give their balls a little twist and squeeze?"
There were various threats given by the opposing side, but no one seemed too eager to advance. Haru looked confused for a second, then fished around in her cleavage, pulling out a vibrating cell phone. "Hold on, fuckers, I've got a call."
Kouzo never took his eyes off the gang as Haru turned to the side and talked, "Yeah what? Oh, nothing, just about to kick the shit out of some niggers. ...what? ...shit WHAT?! Goddamnit, we're on our way!"
She snapped the phone closed and angrily shoved it back in her cleavage. Completely ignoring the mob threatening to attack her, Haru jumped on her bike, and patted the seat behind her invitingly for Kouzo, "Come on, we have to go."
"What?" Kouzo asked, carefully getting on behind Haru, "Why?"
Haru started the bike and peeled away from the curb. Several bottles and rocks were thrown after them as they sped away, "Natalie's in trouble!"Natalie's mind was, by this point, little more than an incoherent haze of fear. She could see things, hear things, take in information, but was completely incapable of reacting to any of it. Fear had paralyzed her systems. All of it flowing outward from the person who sat next to her in the car. She huddled against the passenger-side door, buckled in, hands and arms folded up painfully behind her. The man was hardly paying attention to her as he drove. He had drawn out a long dagger and left it resting openly on his thigh. Though it was easily in her reach, Natalie's hands and fingers, like her wrists, were too wrapped up in duct tape to move.
It was with a dull terror, a mere drop in the downpour that was the rest of the terror she was feeling, that Natalie noticed the knife was the exact same one that the bum had attacked her with. Her mouth was dry, but eventually she found her tongue moving. Was that croaking sound her own voice?
"Who are you?"
The man didn't look at her, "My proper name can't be correctly pronounced with human mouthparts. But my human birthname is Patrick."
Natalie's voice cracked and squeeked, "I'm... Natalie," maybe establishing communication could get him to let her go? Maybe?
Patrick shook his head, "No it isn't. Not your real name."
"P...Patrick? Where are you... I mean..." it was an effort to simply talk to him, and she couldn't even look at him for more than a second or two.
"You're on the verge of a great awakening," Patrick said bluntly, "I'm just here to make sure it happens in a safe manner."
"Then," Natalie hated the how pathetically desperate her voice sounded, but fear had driven her vocal chords up several octaves, "What about the... uh..."
She was feebly wiggling her bound hands.
"Safety first," Patrick said, "I don't expect you to understand, and don't have time to explain, so taking you by force is necessary. After it's over, you'll see things differently."
"Great," Natalie muttered, looking morosely out the window, wondering briefly if she could unlock the door with her teeth and get out.
Right, after she used her invisible third arm to undo the seatbelt and pull the door-handle, all while stopping him from stabbing her.
The car pulled to a stop. Without a word Patrick got out of the car, then went over to Natalie's side. Opening the door and undoing her seatbelt, Natalie was pulled out and set on her feet. She leaned against the car for support, her legs tingled. Patrick placed his jacket over her back. For a moment she wondered if he was being nice to her, but then realized he was only covering up her bound wrists. "Make any noise, any cry for help or scream, and I will cut your throat open. Nod if you understand me."
Natalie waggled her head vague, still more or less numb with fear. They seemed to be in a more industrial part of town. For the moment, the car was parked in front of a bare. A flickering neon sign announced that they were entering 'The Warehouse Pub' as Patrick put his hand on the back of her neck and led her firmly inside.
It was a rather seedy bar, the people inside were not the type that Natalie would ever want to be alone around. A few sets of eyes gave her a quick once over, but then averted themselves quickly. It wasn't very comforting to Natalie that she wasn't the only one affected by the sheer intimidation Patrick radiated. Biker-looking types and others quickly turned away, found excuses to head to the opposite end of the bar, and all but fall over themselves in an attempt to get out of his way. No one talked, even the sound of the radio seemed slightly muted by his very presence. There was a crack of shattered glass as the ancient looking bartender accidentally dropped the cup he was cleaning. Shivering, the man immediately turned and made a show of cleaning off the back counter, far away from Patrick.
Patrick didn't seem to notice any of this, or simply didn't care. He slowly, but forcefully walked Natalie towards the back of the bar, towards the back door. A new fear was making its way up Natalie's spine: What if Patrick was intending to rape her? It was an awful lot of trouble to go through, take her from her apartment, shoot daddy, drive her across town... but rationality and logic didn't have much sway at the moment. Part of her fought to run away, another part fought to stay and be good and do exactly what the scary man said, lest things get much worse.
A tear coursed down Natalie's cheek as she continued walking. What good would running do anyways? Everyone in here was terrified, they wouldn't want to help her. Hell, some of them probably wanted her for themselves. Natalie shivered and let out a small mewl of fear. Patrick didn't notice, or didn't care. His goal was obviously to get out the back door of the bar and-
"Get out of my fucking way!"
The woman trying to get through the doorway was rather hot, to say the least. She was dressed in something between victorian and dominatrix, and yet managed to make it both work for her, and look tasteful in the process... highly out of place for this bar.
"Hey, asshole, do you have a hearing problem? I want to get back in!"
Patrick had stopped, Natalie looked up and saw that there was an expression of surprise on his face. For a moment the numbing fear didn't seem quite so oppressive. Whoever this woman was, she didn't seem effected at it at all, unlike everyone else here, including Natalie. The woman rolled her eyes, flicking her black hair back, "Whatever, asshole, go play your big-tough-guy games with someone else."
The woman squeezed her way past Patrick with a stream of profanity and slipped into the bar itself. She cast one glance back at Natalie, "You sure picked a winner there kid, he looks old enough to be your daddy."
Natalie opened her mouth to say something back, but her throat seemed locked up. The fear was back, and Patrick was shoving her out the back door. The alley was fenced in on both sides, and the only decorations were broken bottles, a few used condoms, a dumpster and a door leading to the building next door. It was to this door that Patrick immediately strode, opening and shoving Natalie inside. Natalie weakly struggled, not because she was trying to get away, but because she was trying to get a better look at what she saw sticking out from behind the dumpster.
She jumped and let out a small scream as someone tapped on the window. She looked up and saw Haru standing there with a scowl on her face. Heaving a sigh of relief, Claudia rolled down the window, "Oh god... I'm so glad you're here."
"Where is she?" Haru said without any pretense.
Claudia pointed across the street, to The Warehouse Pub, "He took her in there."
Haru turned and looked, "He's a fucking dead man."
"Hold on!" Claudia cried, "There's... something you should know."
Haru rounded on her, "What?! That you were too chickenshit to protect her yourself?"
Claudia cringed, "No! I didn't... I couldn't... he's one of you!"
"One of us," Haru spat, "Thanks, I was beginning to miss the racism."
"I think she means a child of Jormungand," Kouzo said.
"Oh, Family," Haru spat again, "Even better. Whatever, you coming Claudia?"
"I..." Claudia hesitated, tearing up in shame, "I... can't."
"Fucking coward," Haru walked away, towards the pub.
Kouzo reached in the window and put a comforting hand on Claudia's shoulder, "It's okay, I understand, she does too... she's just protective and trying to cope."
"Heh," Claudia looked away, not wanting him to see her crying, "I'm the psychiatrist... he just... I'm so fucking scared... I can't..."
"Claudia," Kouzo said.
"Yeah?"
"Why aren't you wearing pants?"
"Yeah... well..." Claudia began.
"Hey Kouzo, take your time!" Haru called back, "I'm sure nothing bad will happen to Natalie while you're sitting there babbling!"
"Don't sweat it," Kouzo hissed at Claudia before turning and jogging across the street.Who would have thought that The Warehouse Pub would be built next to an actual, abandoned warehouse? Natalie's eyes took in the outlines of the rusted corpses of ancient factory machinery and disuses shelving, rimmed in moonlight from a half-collapsed roof. There were scuffling sounds in the darkness, both from rats and things larger than rats. Something farted and snored in the darkness. Other things scrabbled for cover. Something yowled and hissed before skittering away. Eventually the darkest corner of a dark warehouse was reached. Natalie was thrown unceremoniously to the ground.
She heard Patrick's heavy tread move somewhere else close by. Another sound, like a clothesline being pulled through a knothole. The sound repeated, this time accompanied by a chugging noise. The chugging sounds grew, and with it came the flicker of lights. Natalie blinked as the darkest corner suddenly became relatively well illuminated. Several halogen lights were connected to a small generator which chugged industriously away. Patrick stood next to the generator, checking to make sure everything was in its place. Natalie followed his gaze downward. There was something on the floor, some painting that looked much more recent than the decaying machinery and shelving.
It was a picture of a serpent, with its tail in its mouth.
Natalie's heart froze. "It's Jormungand, the world-spanning serpent of Norse mythology," Doctor Claudia Larson repeated in her memory. 'This is not your choice, child of Jormungand,' D_Admin07 typed on Natalie's mental-monitor.
Natalie looked up at Patrick. He still inspired a shivering fear in her, but that fear was now peppered with something else. Natalie didn't even recognize it at first, but it gave her tongue the power of movement again. Her voice was slightly less cracked as she opened her mouth, "You're part of it... aren't you?"
Patrick didn't seem to notice her question. He was looking down at the symbol contemplatively. "Blood," he said musingly.
"What?" Natalie asked. She had figured it out now, it was anger, fury that was slowly building in her fear.
"Blood," Patrick said, walking off into the darkness.
He returned in a few moment, dragging a mumbling form behind him. Natalie saw that it was a bum, apparently picked off the street, bound with chicken-wire, and left here until Patrick returned. He stunk far worse than most bums. How long had he been kept here, bound like this? That was the smell of several days worth of accumulated bodily waste, unable to be cleaned away due to his bound status. The moans and struggles were weak, he probably hadn't been given food or water for his entire stay here.
"It's a good thing he's still alive," Patrick said, somewhat cheerfully, "Blood's useless without life behind it. It's just a sticky, clotting liquid. Life is what gives it energy and meaning."
Was this the fate that awaited Natalie? To be kept here, starved and delirious, until this psychotic creep decided to use her for some weird occult ritual? As if reading her mind, Patrick looked at her and smiled. It was an almost bestial expression, Natalie couldn't help but notice he had rather large canines. "Don't worry Natalie, this nobody's fate is not your own. Much greater things await you."
"What... what are you doing?" Natalie asked.
Patrick showed her his answer, reaching down and slicing cleanly through the bum's throat with the ceremonial dagger, the same knife that had left a quickly-healing gash in her arm. The man's body twitched and spasmed before stiffening up and finally relaxing in death. Natalie let out a small shriek at this. Patrick spoke to her, kicking the corpse to the side of the snake-symbol, "Natalie, it's time for you to open your eyes what you truly are, to embrace the spirit that lies inside of you."
The fury inside her was growing. Who the fuck did this crazy, murderous asshole think he was? "You fucker!" she screamed, her voice cracking, "You killed him!"
"He's a nobody," Patrick explained patiently, "A nothing, just like most everyone else on this world. There's only a few of us, touched by something greater. Graced by the attentions of things from a different realm, charged with the duty of bringing their founder and creator here, to a new home, to continue their glorious conquest."
"You're fucking psychotic!" Natalie cried, trying to pull her hands from the duct-tape bonds. She had managed to get a little looseness, but her hands were still effectively restrained.
"Open your eyes," Patrick said, "You have the touch of divinity inside you as well, Natalie! You have the capability to transcend the bonds of flesh, and now is the time to make that potential manifest!"
"Fuck... you..." Natalie growled.
She was having a hard time keeping focus. The anger inside her was being replaced by fear again. She could see the air above the symbol of Jormungand begin to waver, as if a great amount of heat were coming from that section of floor. She could still see the tripod-mounted halogen lights behind it, still hear the droning chug of the generator... but something else was going on inside her head. It was vaguely similar to the headache-inducing buzz that had occurred earlier that day, but this was a different sort of sound. More organic. "What... what's going on..." Natalie gasped, then cried out as she felt something shift deep inside her.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Patrick asked, watching proudly as Natalie's small form spasmed on the ground. She looked up at him in fury, before her face contorted in pain.
It was the dream being brought to reality. Natalie could feel it, every inch of her body being invaded, possessed by something. Her muscles spasmed painfully again. Her shirt was beginning to ride up, exposing her pale, slight midriff. Natalie looked down and nearly vomited in nausea and terror. Her abdominal muscles were twitching and writhing like snakes.
"Your time has come, Natalie, embrace the spirit," Patrick repeated, "I have merely weakened the walls of reality to make the process easier for you."
Natalie cried out again, a great shriek of pain. Parts of her body had gone cold and number, others had become feverish. All over, she could feel it. Cell by cell, centimeter by painful centimeter, as something from ... outside ... steadily forced its way into her, without her consent. Was this what rape was like? Was it even worse? Natalie didn't have any basis for comparison, but she sure as hell thought it was worse, it was a rape of her mind and soul, her entire being was in the process of getting forcefully violated.
There were noises, sounds that managed to cut through the organic babbling going on inside her head. Through the pain and sickness, Natalie looked up and briefly debated whether or not this was an hallucination.
Kouzo and Haru had appeared out of the darkness, and without a word, had began attacking Patrick. Another spasm hit Natalie and she lost focus for a few seconds, doubling up in a fetal position and vomiting an acidic bile. When she looked up again, she noticed Haru striking Patrick in the face multiple times in a measured, disciplined fashion, all the while giving out shrieks of glee, her face radiant with lustful indulgence in the chaos. For a moment, Natalie could feel something inside of her, reaching out to connect with Haru... some sort of bond. There was a similar one trying to connect with Patrick, but Natalie fought against that urge, violently retching again in the process. Her arms were flapping wildly about behind her, still bound, as her body contorted further.
Natalie regained focus enough to see Patrick, face bloodied, easily gain the upper hand. Twisting under Haru's fist, he grabbed the back of her head and rammed her forcefully into a steel pillar. There was a sickening crunch and a splatter of red as Haru's nose was crushed against the metal, and she collapsed to the floor, twitching. Patrick was in the process of kicking the downed girl in the ribs when Kouzo came in with another attack, apparently being shoved off earlier.
This time he had found a steel pipe, and laid into Patrick with a shocking howl of fury. Natalie had never imagined Kouzo of making such a vicious sound and watched in amazement as Patrick gave ground under a series of controlled, powerful strikes. She spasmed again, vaguely remembering Kouzo mentioning that he used to take part in Kendo tournaments when he was younger.
Looking up again, Natalie saw that Patrick had managed to catch hold of the steel pipe. With a roar, he twisted it out of Kouzo's hands and whipped it around, ending with a terrible blow to Kouzo's face. Natalie growled helplessly in her nausea as the larger man relentless pounded Kouzo to the ground, denting and bending the steel pipe in the process. Once Kouzo's body was motionless, he turned and struck Haru several more times, just as she was coughing and attempting to lift herself off the ground.
Once both Kouzo and Haru were lying motionless on the ground, Patrick threw the steel pipe away with a growl. "Such a goddamn waste!"
He ran a hand through now thoroughly tussled hair. Blood ran freely from a broken nose and split lip. Natalie saw that a good portion of one of his ears was torn, dangling from the side of his head by a thin strip of flesh. "Natalie!" he roared, "It's time! Wake up and accept the gift! Those two idiots spurn their blessing and bite the hand that feeds them! You don't have to! You can be better, achieve greater things! Don't be like them! Don't be like your mother!"
That was it. Natalie's eyes opened wide as the fear and sickness was pushed immediately from her system. No more of this shit. No more confusion and terror, no more unanswered questions, no more frustration and stress. For a moment, all of her hatred was focused on this asshole and his presumption. For a moment, Natalie opened herself up completely, wishing for the strength to kill this fucker, openly inviting anything in that could help her.
Something responded.
Natalie's body twitched, her muscles writhed and spasmed as something flooded into them, something not wholly physical. Natalie opened her mouth and screamed, the sound transitioning unevenly from that of a teenage girl to something hideous and inhuman. The duct tape restraints stretched and then snapped away as Natalie's arms suddenly twisted and bulged with a musculature that transcended the laws and limits of physics. She glared balefully at Patrick and lunged forward.Pounding. Throbbing.
Out of breath, should be breathing harder. Something blocking the way. Muscles hurt, won't work right, exhausted.
Natalie's vision gradually focused. She was on the ground, cold grime and ancient dirt scratching painfully into her back. The generator still chugged in the background, but its coughing roar was uneven and stuttering. The halogen lights flickered and dimmed, their fuel coming in spurts. The frightful grimace that was Patrick's face looked down at her from above. Had it looked that bad before?
Deep gouges criss-crossed his face, one eye was completely ripped out, and a large chunk of scalp had peeled away, still dribbling blood. His neck was also torn open in several places. But he was on top, and his large hand was wrapped around her throat, holding her in place and restricting her breathing. Natalie's eyes were questioning. Her skin was cold, slapped with the stagnant air of the abandoned warehouse, yet still burning with a strange heat from deeper inside of her. She felt completely exhausted, wasted... yet strangely alert.
"Wh... wh..." she tried. It was strangely difficult, as if she weren't certain of the exact shape, strength and function of her facial muscles.
"Can you feel it?" Patrick said excitedly, "Inside of you?"
Natalie was confused. Despite her senses feeding her a veritable flood of suddenly sharpened information, her mind was still a hopeless muddle. Presently it feeling of cold and and uncomfortable ground beneath her led her to the conclusion that she was naked. Natalie connected this with Patrick's statement, and her mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had raped her. With a choked moan, Natalie tried to struggle, but managed little more than a few weakened flops before her muscles decided to take another vacation.
"Don't worry," Patrick said while standing up, "Your strength will return quickly, your wounds will heal, and you'll be back in shape in no time."
With effort, Natalie managed to roll to the side, curling into a fetal position and shivering. It was true, she was naked. Worse, she was caked in blood, bits of flesh, and all sorts of dirt and grime. She almost wanted to vomit, but her weak attempt only produced a complaining gurgle from an abdomen too exhausted to effectively contract. Her hair was still on end, there felt like there was a charge in the air. She tried to push herself up, failed, and flopped weakly on the floor. Eventually she settled for flinging her head to the side so that she could catch Patrick in her peripheral vision.
Patrick was currently kicking the dead bum away from the symbol of Jormungand. He looked over at her and grinned, making his damaged face look all that much worse, "Now that the circle has served its purpose, it's time to close the rent in reality," he explained.
Natalie didn't comprehend, her mind was elsewhere. She was coming to the realization that she hadn't actually been raped. For one thing, though his clothes were torn and bloodied, Patrick wasn't undressed in any way. For another, Natalie's body was an uneven mass of pain and exhaustion, but one area that definitely wasn't in too much pain was right in between her legs, no horrible feelings of bruising, tearing, or violation down there.
For some reason, Natalie wasn't comforted by that fact. All it meant is that something other than rape had stripped her naked and turned her into a bloodied, exhausted mess. She looked back at Patrick for answers. He wasn't paying attention. He was staring at the circle in confusion, half talking to himself, "Okay... why isn't it sealing?"
He looked at Natalie, "You're not keeping it open, are you? No... no, you don't have that skill yet..."
"...and it's not these two," Patrick kicked two motionless lumps on the floor. One of them groaned painfully.
That disconcerting feeling of static was building. Natalie could see that Patrick also was being affected by it. His eyes widened in shock, "No... something's pushing through from the other si-"
The generator sputtered to a stop as the lights flickered out. In the darkness, Natalie caught the acrid smell of ozone. Along with it came the feeling of a sudden cold breeze. Natalie closed her eyes as the shock of wind scattered dust and blood alike. She wiggled her jaws, trying to pop her ears from the sudden change in air pressure and temperature, at the same time her worn out legs twitched a little and her stomach heaved slightly, as if, without leaving the ground, she had fallen a few feet.
A small coughing roar as the generator came back to life. Lights flickered on and the temperature went back to normal. Natalie blinked, her vision seemed to have gone a little blurry again. Feeling a little more strength back in her system, she managed to push herself up to a sitting position and take stock of her situation.
There was someone else in this corner of the warehouse. Standing in the middle of the symbol of Jormungand was someone Natalie had never seen before. Her eyes widened upon seeing the figure, partially because its feet were not touching the ground. It hovered several inches above the dirty floor, shimmering in a heat haze that emanated upward from the circle, giving it it an almost ephemeral appearance, as if it would disappear once the heat did.
"Who the hell are you?" Patrick demanded.
The figure ignored him. Natalie couldn't tell what gender it was at first glance, but found her opinion leaning more towards the masculine side of things. He looked around six feet tall, thin but well muscled. He raised his nose and sniffed the air. In a dry, emotionless voice he said, "Corrupt, filthy, impure. It's just the way I left it."
"What?" Natalie said, her voice little more than a cracked whisper.
The man turned and looked at her. His hair was long and white, but his skin was slightly pinkish, as if a little sunburned. Pale blue eyes rimmed with red stared straight through her. He's an albino, Natalie thought numbly.
"The world," he said, "is just the way I left it."
"This is your last chance interloper," Patrick growled, "Who... what are you?"
The man rotated to face Patrick, acknowledging him for the first time, "What am I?"
Something long and glistening reached out towards Patrick with terrifying speed, "I'm hungry."
Patrick roared in surprise as something fleshy wrapped around him. He struggled viciously as he was lifted off the ground. Natalie's mouth hung open as she realized the floating man lacked a right arm. Instead a discoloured, glistening set of tentacles branched out. It was these that entangled Patrick and lifted him off the ground. Natalie's body began itching suddenly as another static charge built up. The lights began to flicker, and as they did, she saw Patrick changing.
"I'm going mad," Natalie said to herself as she watched Patrick writhe and howl, his skin stretching and growing in the strobing lights, becoming monstrous.
"Natalie!" Kouzo shouted, his voice hoarse and broken.
He fell to Natalie's side, shaking her, "Come on Natalie!"
"Yeah Natalie!" Haru coughed, "We have to get out of here now!"
She was insane, that had to be it. That's why she was seeing Patrick twist and deform into a huge, monstrous being, at least ten feet tall, with three pairs of misshapen arms, covered in patchy, wiry black fur. That's why she was seeing Kouzo and Haru, two people she had quite clearly seen having their skulls either beaten out against steel pillars, or beaten in with steel pipes, pulling at her, telling her to get out. Kouzo had sticky blood coating his scalp, and Haru's chest made sickly cracking noises as broken ribs ground against each other. They were dead, yet still moving around and begging for Natalie to follow them, so obviously she must be insane, because dead people don't do that.
So why not indulge in it? She was already naked, covered in gore and dirt, following the lead of two dead friends, and watching an albino man with long hair and a giant tentacle for an arm fight with a ten foot tall monster, how much worse could it get? She followed the staggering, limping forms of Haru and Kouzo towards the other end of the warehouse. In an unintentional homage to Orpheus, Eurydice, and Lot, Natalie took one look back at Patrick and the albino man before fleeing.
She saw that despite Patrick's transformation, he was still lifted off the ground, effortlessly bound by the white-haired man's tentacle arm. She realized that, contrary to initial impressions, the white-haired man wasn't naked, merely covered in a constantly shifting patchwork of whispy, translucent white fabric. She watched as the albino looked back directly at her, and her footsteps came to a stop. Haru and Kouzo tried to pull at her, but froze themselves as they, too, were caught in the man's gaze.
He didn't speak any louder than a normal speaking voice, but somehow it carried over the infuriated roars of the Patrick-monster, "Children of Jormungand, the White Wyrm has returned."
The albino-man's tentacle arm suddenly contracted. As the warehouse was filled with the loud crunching of what sounded like every single one of the Patrick-monster's bones being ground into powder by the pressure of the contraction, Natalie decided now would be a very good time for a long nap, and fainted.
"She's sleeping now," Haru said, "But she should end up fine... no thanks to you."
"Come on Haru," Kouzo said, "It wasn't her fault."
"Bullshit, she sat there, pissing her pants in fear and doing nothing!" Haru snapped.
Barry cut in now, raising his voice and singlehandedly shutting up everyone in the cafe, "What would you rather she do?"
Haru stuttered angrily, "Well... she..."
"She's human," Barry said, forcing his voice back down to normal speaking tones, "Do you really think she would have been able to do anything against one of you? Would you rather she tried stopping him, getting torn to pieces, and leaving you with nothing, no idea where to go to get Natalie back?"
Biting her lip, Haru turned away, pissed, but in her own way acknowledging the point.
"Besides," Barry said, "You're all alive, and you're all here... I couldn't ask for anything more."
"Yeah, that's something we should be happy for," Kouzo said slowly.
"So... what happened?" Barry asked.
Haru didn't reply, preferring to stare off somewhere else angrily. Kouzo decided he was the unofficial storyteller, "Okay, well, basically you called us while we were at the theater. You said that Lucida had called and now you couldn't get ahold of her, and wanted us to go investigate... so Haru got her bike, and gave me a ride to-"
"From after the point you met with Claudia," Barry rolled his eyes, "I know the rest already."
"Okay then," Kouzo said without breaking stride, "We went into the... umm... oh yeah, 'The Warehouse Pub', which was kind of an apt name because it was located right next to a warehouse and all... that was probably the reason they called it 'The Warehouse Pub'. Yeah, anyways, by that time, Haru had picked up Natalie's scent, along with the smell of another... um... Family member."
"One of the stupid fucking zealots," Haru cut in, "Asshole got what was coming to him."
Kouzo continued, "So anyways... there was a body in the alleyway behind the bar, but no Natalie. So we went into the warehouse behind The Warehouse Pub, and there we ran into Natalie and one more of us. Except this one of us was kind of strong."
"He wiped the floor with us," Haru said bluntly, "Kicked our asses across the warehouse without breaking a sweat, then did the same with Natalie right through her breaking point... it was fucking scary. You know, if I had my blade with me then, the fight would have been over a lot quicker-"
"Wait," Barry interrupted, ignoring Haru's last remark, "This... Family member beat Natalie during her... breaking point? Isn't that when you guys... you know, the possession..."
"Yeah," Kouzo said, "She turned, she grew, and he still managed to come out on top."
"But... you guys become monsters then!" Barry said incredulously, "How the hell could anyone-"
"He was stronger," Haru said, "What's so hard to understand about that? He beat the shit out of even me!"
"And me," Kouzo said.
"Well that doesn't prove anything," Haru muttered.
"Hey!"
"So wait," Barry said, "If this guy was so obscenely bad-ass, how did you guys even get away, with Natalie even? I mean, I've had to work double-time to keep them off of Lucida's ass, and if they're as strong as you say they are..."
"Fat lot of good that did," Haru said.
Kouzo quickly starting talking again before Haru and Barry could get into a row, "Something else came and interfered. He had weakened the walls, and something else pushed through and killed him, we managed to get away with Natalie in the confusion."
"So wait," Barry said, "What you're saying is that this guy, who kicked your asses easily, got killed by something else? What the hell was it?"
"One of us," Haru said, "But... not. It didn't feel right, he was... scary."
"He called himself the White Wyrm," Kouzo said, "I remember that. He just... I never felt anything like that before. I don't think he's allied with the Family, though, he didn't act like them."Natalie stared blankly at the wall. She had never understood the expression until this point in time. A state of being where ones mental and emotional capacities had been so greatly exceeded, their psychological barriers so horribly overwhelmed and demolished, that the only thing left was to simply clear everything out of the head and let ones mind slowly cruise to a stop.
The door to the room opened. Natalie heard a voice, "Here hon, I brought you a little breakfast, sorry it's the cheap microwaved stuff. I also got you a mocha, heavy cream, I know you like those the best."
"Thanks," Natalie said tonelessly, not turning to look. Yeah, that should be the minimum required social interaction to get whoever that was to leave her alone.
The door opened and closed again, leaving Natalie alone with her lack of thoughts. That was obviously the best way to go about things at the moment. Her arms and legs moved, simply muscle-memory allowing her to turn and grab the few plates and the glass that were left on the floor. Slowly, mechanically she wolfed everything down, from the chewy waffles to crispy apple-slices, she barely paused to even chew. A rich brown blend of flavour dribbled down her chin as she methodically gulped down the drink, not even stopping to take a single breath until the glass was empty. Using the sleeve of the shirt she was put it, in wasn't hers, she wiped her mouth and chin off. Natalie looked at the sleeve again... that wasn't her shirt. Her shirt was... something had happened to her shirt. Natalie looked away, figuring out what happened to her shirt would involve thinking, and for the moment, that was just a bad idea, she knew it had to be.
Natalie wished she had her laptop. Things would be a lot easier, or at least a lot more comfortable with her laptop. Or if she were at home in the apartment, with daddy.
Daddy. Daddy who had been shot by someone... a man named Patrick, a man who...
Natalie's subconscious frantically tried to erect new barriers, but it was too late. The train of thought had already started, and memories began crashing against the inside of Natalie's skull. She felt sick, nearly vomiting up the breakfast she had just eaten. A choked sob escaped her mouth as she recalled the events of last night.
There was a knock on her door. An uncertain voice outside, "Hey... Natalie... it's Kouzo, how are you feeling?"
Mechanically, Natalie stood up and went to the door. She opened it and offered Kouzo a lopsided smile, Haru was standing next to him. Natalie then punched Kouzo in the face. It wasn't a very powerful blow, she had already been feeling rather weak and shaky, and putting her weight behind it nearly tipped her over. But it was enough to spin the older boy around in surprise and send up staggering to the opposite wall of the hallway.
With a sob, Natalie turned on Haru. She launched herself at the girl, screaming something incoherent. After seeing Kouzo get slugged, Haru was more than ready for this and easily held Natalie off, this only added more fuel to the younger girl's frustration, and her screams increased. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" Haru shouted over Natalie's cries, finally falling back under the girl's flailings.
"You!" Natalie screamed, turning and launching herself one more time at Kouzo before finally collapsing in a puddle of tears, "Both of you! You were part of this! All of this! It's you're goddamn fault!"
"We saved your sorry ass!" Haru shouted, "Don't go-"
"Fuck you!" Natalie screamed, "Why should I believe anything you say? You guys didn't want to be my friends, you weren't even interested. It was all just a cover for... for... whatever the fuck that was!"
Heavy footsteps came up the stairs. Barry's voice echoed through the hallway, "What the hell is all the screaming about?"
Natalie glared at him, "What? Are you in on it too?!"
Barry's voice softened once he saw the situation, "Umm... you two should probably leave... give me a chance to talk to Natalie."
"The fuck we're leaving," Haru spat, "She's with us!"
"I'm not with anyone!" Natalie shouted.
"Come on Haru, let's go," Kouzo said, pulling on her arm.
Haru glowered, but relented. As the two slowly went away, with a number of backward glances, Natalie found herself alone in the hallway with the large man. An animal fear bit at her, and she tried backing up, only to find herself grinding into a corner. "Natalie," Barry said, "calm down."
Natalie shook her head, looking for anything, a weapon, any way out of here. "Natalie," Barry said again, "Look at me!"
Locking eyes with him for just a second, Natalie froze. "Calm down," Barry repeated, "Just take a couple of deep breaths."
Inhale, and exhale, inhale, and exhale. Natalie could feel some of the tension leaving... maybe she should try talking, figuring out what the hell is going on. "What the hell is going on?" she asked.
"You've just gone through a bit of hell," Barry said, "and you're being kept safe until you're back on your feet."
Shakily, Natalie stood up, "Well... I'm back on my feet now. I want to go home."
"Not a good idea," Barry said, "There's a police investigation going on there, and besides, others might be keeping an eye on the place as well."
Natalie waved her hand, "Fuck you, I'm going home and seeing my daddy."
"Your dad's in the hospital," Barry said, "and from what I've heard, he's going to be there for at least a few days."
Natalie collapsed against the wall, keeping mostly upright only through sheer force of will. Unintentionally, Barry had managed to answer the question she was too scared to ask: What Roger alive? "H...he's in the hospital..." tears were flowing again, "He's... he's..."
Barry hugged Natalie, practically swallowing her in his huge muscular frame, "Yes hon, he's alive, don't worry. The nurse said the bullet half an inch away from a dozen vital areas, but managed to miss them all... just leaving him with a nasty hole through his torso."
Natalie's cries turned to laughs, then back to cries, "It's all my fault!"
"It's not your fault, Natalie."
"That guy... Patrick... he was after me! I was so scared... I left him... I could have..."
"Natalie, look at me, it wasn't your fault, don't you dare blame yourself for the actions of others!" Barry said.
"What's going on? Why is this happening? Why am I going insane... I don't want to be insane," Natalie was trying not to sound so pathetic, but by this point she realized it was a lost cause.
Barry hugged her again, "I'll tell you all I can."
Natalie walked slowly down the stairs and through the door connecting the apartment with the public cafe. Kouzo and Haru were both sitting at a table, Kouzo eating a snack cake and Haru nursing a cappucino. Both looked up when Natalie entered, uncertain of what to say. Barry came in behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. Natalie immediately slapped them off, "Cut off the protective bullshit, I'm not five," and went to sit with Haru and Kouzo.
"Hey guys," she said nervously.
"Cappucino?" Haru offered.
Natalie shook her head, "I'm full."
Haru nodded and took another sip. Kouzo tried to break the ice, "Hey I know that-"
"Alright, I'm sorry!" Natalie burst out, "I didn't mean to say that about you guys."
"It's all true," Kouzo said, "We were watching over you, waiting for you to change and trying to protect you at the same time."
"But we do think you're pretty cool," Haru quickly added.
Natalie gave Haru a deadpan look. She managed to hold it for a whole five seconds before breaking into a grin, "Pussy."
"Bitch, I will fucking cut you!"
Kouzo got up and walked over to Barry, "How is she?"
"I talked to her, got her calmed down," Barry said, "Also gave her a chance to call her dad, I think that helped out a lot."
Kouzo nodded, "And what about... you know... us?"
"She's playing along for the moment," Barry explained looking over at the table where Haru now had Natalie in a headlock, "But it's easy to tell, she's refusing to believe any of it. She thinks she had hallucinations, and that we're the halfway house out of some sort of aggressive cult."
"Is it that far from the truth?" Kouzo asked.
"For you guys, it's pretty spot on," Barry admitted, "But she's going to have to accept what's happened to her eventually."
"Yeah, but the way she's taking it... it's sort of a relief. I was doing the same thing after I changed," Kouzo admitted.
"You never did tell me how that worked out," Barry said.
"And I probably never will," Kouzo said bluntly, looking away and closing up, "Only one person knows the story, and he doesn't exist."
"Fine, I'm not pushing," Barry said, raising his hands apologetically, "But hey, I've got a job for you guys."
"What?"
"Take the night off," Barry said, "Take Natalie out somewhere, just keep her away from here at the moment. If you can, see if you can't poke her into exploring what's happened to her."
"And why away from here?"
"Claudia and I are going to try to figure out what the hell happened to her mother, and I don't want her finding out just yet.""A karaoke bar?" Natalie asked disbelievingly as the three walked out of The Node.
"Yeah," Kouzo said, "Something social, and fun, and safe. You need it."
"Oooookay," Natalie said uncertainly, "But why karaoke?"
"Because we like karaoke," Kouzo said, "and you should give it a try too, I'm sure you've got an awesome voice."
"I'm not going up there and singing," Natalie said, "I'm not even eighteen, how am I supposed to get in?"
"We know the doorman," Haru said, "Don't worry, it'll be fun."
"I'll be designated driver!" Kouzo said cheerfully.
Haru came to a dead stop, "No."
"No?"
"No, we're not going in that."
"Going in what?" Natalie asked.
"I'm glad you asked," Kouzo said cheerfully, "Princess, your chariot awaits!"
Natalie looked at the car indicated. Like Haru, she stopped, "No.""See, it's not that bad," Kouzo said, slowing to a stop at a red light.
"The car nearly died coming out of the parking lot," Natalie said incredulously, staring at the piecemeal interior warily.
"No it didn't," Kouzo laughed, "It was merely getting into its beat."
"And does 'getting into its beat' have something to do with the large clouds of black smoke coming out of the exhaust?" Natalie asked.
"Those are just the atmospheric kisses of a time-loved engine," Kouzo said with a smile.
Natalie stared at him, then around the monstrous, decaying Bonneville they were riding in. The car traveled over a sewer lid, and for the next ten seconds the creaking suspension rocked back and forth. There was a faint smell of oil constantly wafting through the interior, overpowering the tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. Natalie noted that there was only a few hanging wires where the passenger-side door mirror used to be. She tried to find something to distract herself from the worry that she was riding in a vehicle that was threatening to either blow up or fall to pieces.
"Guys... about what happened... last night. The, um, hallucinations-"
"They weren't hallucinations," Haru muttered from the back seat. Next to her was a cylindrical package with a shoulder-strap that she refused to relinquish.
"Hallucinations," Natalie repeated firmly, "Did... was I the only one who saw them?"
Haru rolled her eyes, "No Natalie, we all saw them, because they were real. We saw a man turn into a monster, we saw something else come out and kill him."
"Bullshit," Natalie said, "it never actually happened, things like that don't actually happen. I don't know what the hell he managed to feed us, but it fucked us up royally, and I am going to figure out what the hell this cult thing is to stop it from fucking with me and my family."
"Whatever," Haru said, "be an idiot."
"Hey, it doesn't change anything for us if she believes it or not," Kouzo said, "We're still after the same thing, the Family."
"Yeah," Natalie said, "The Family. At least I know that no matter how bad things get, they're more psychologically fucked up than I am."
"That's true, at least," Haru admitted.
"I really hope so," Kouzo said.The ease with which they got into the bar surprised Natalie. The doorman looked at them once, gave them an almost frightened looking smile, and immediately waved them through. The place itself was worlds above The Warehouse in terms of cleanliness and attractiveness. The floor was a well kept plush carpet, the music was loud, but not overpowering, and the clientèle looked somewhat younger than what she saw at The Warehouse, and considerably more clean shaved.
The vocal talent, on the other hand, left a lot to be desired. Natalie sat and giggled with Haru and Kouzo as they slowly suffered through less than inspiring renditions of 'Bullet with Butterfly Wings', 'Barbie Girl' and a few others. Haru got up and proceeded to tear her own vocal chords with 'The Sickness', and shortly afterward, Kouzo got up and sang a little Pink Floyd.
Throughout the night, Natalie noticed that she was never alone for even a moment. Several times she was approached by certain males. Two times, Haru caught them before they even got to her, and with a few words, they quickly lost all interest and hurriedly went off to do something else. The only one who got through managed to get a whole two lines in before he looked like someone was slowly twisting a dagger in his back. Each time, the hairs on the back of Natalie's neck stood up, and she felt something akin to an invisible cold fire emanating from Haru. This was all the more disturbing because she had no idea what such a thing was supposed to feel like, or why she would get that sort of mental image from it.
Somehow, through extended pestering, the two of them managed to get Natalie to agree to go on stage and sing something of her own. Reluctantly, Natalie stood up when her name was called, and with infinite hesitation, headed for the stage. Haru turned to Kouzo, "So what the hell was she doing again?"
"Something called 'Alive', I think," Kouzo replied.
Haru's eyes widened, "Godsmack? She didn't strike me as that type."
"What's Godsmack?" Kouzo asked, but by this point the music had already started.
Haru was watching the stage intently. The entire night, she and Kouzo had been secretly working around Natalie. Pheromones were just one of the many things she had learned to sense after her change, and she had gotten adept at being able to sniff out the general trend of emotions and intentions in the air around her. It had proven quite helpful in quickly identifying several assholes who were intending to put the moves on a currently vulnerable Natalie.
As for diverting them from their intended course of action, that was where a little more blatant aggression was called for. Nothing overly visual, but rather an excess production of certain aggression-based pheromones given a certain ethereal kick. The result was the same every time, the intended target quickly found that he desperately wanted to do something else, somewhere else.
Kouzo was watching the stage intently. He was hoping that Natalie would get into the music she was singing. So far she had been keeping herself tightly controlled, unwilling to let anything out that she didn't want to have let out. That wasn't a good way of doing things, because it meant that what needed to be let out was caught inside, and would build up. And then would all be let out in one huge rush when she could no longer hold anything in.
And when you were someone like Kouzo and Haru, and now Natalie, that was when people died.
Natalie was finding, strangely, that she was enjoying herself on stage. At first, the stares of the several dozen people throughout the bar had unnerved her. But as she got into the song, they soon ceased to matter. Why did most people matter anyways? Given what had happened in the past, they were statistically likely to treat her like crap if she gave them half a chance anyways. The music, on the other hand, that wouldn't treat her like anything, it was nothing but a stream of information being fed in an appealing fashion. Natalie could relate to that, and she did as she sang, using the device she held in her hands, a cylindrical tube full of electronics that would take her voice and deliver it to speakers, where more collections of technology would amplify it and send a much larger version out to the audience.
A shiver went through Natalie as she sang, she swore she could almost feel the way the electronics worked around her. Of course, that made perfect sense, since she had clumsily disassembled her Babymate radio at four years of age, she had been fiddling around with electronics, finding out how they worked. Maybe over the years, she had developed some sort of affinity to them. Like the ones she was using right now, she could almost feel the interior workings of the devices. It made sense, she could hear her voice amplified through the speakers, the very slight distortion, and through that catch the nuances of the machinery that made it that way.
Perhaps she could make it work even better. Sure, her hands were occupied with the microphone at the moment, but this was purely an electronic matter, that didn't require hands, it required electricity, or something close. Natalie decided she could make her voice sound a lot better over these speakers, and set to work doing so. As she continued to sing, her mind worked on fiddling with the speakers and the microphone, just minor things to fine-tune their interior components.
Natalie opened her eyes. The song was over, everyone in the bar was staring at her silently. She could hear the last echoes of her amplified voice dying away, not a trace of distortion or reverberation to be found in it. Two pairs of hands began vigorously clapping, Haru and Kouzo. A second later a third joined in, Natalie looked to the owner and her breath caught in her throat. By this time, the entire bar was cheering wildly. The DJ, a younger, awkward looking man, was trying to congratulate her, Natalie was ignoring him and walking off the stage.
She noticed that her feet and hands let out a couple dozen static shocks as she walked off the stage and through the crowd back to Haru and Kouzo. They weren't small shocks either, each one sharply impacting her, and causing several people to give surprised shouts of pain. Halfway out of her head, she finally reached Kouzo and Haru, who both gave her a combined hug.
"That was fucking awesome!" Haru said.
"You've got a way with the microphone," Kouzo admitted.
Natalie smiled, enjoying the attention for once. She turned and looked for the source of that mysterious third clapper, but the crowd was too thick to see where she was standing. Distracted, Natalie began trying to work her way through the crowd.
"Hey Natalie, where the hell do you think you're going?" Haru yelled, grabbing at her and missing.
Natalie looked back, "I thought I saw someone I knew!" and was promptly swallowed by the crowd.
She found it was a bit easier to move through the crowd if she didn't think of them as people. Rather, they were erratic machines, all running on their own defective programming and getting in her way. All she had to do was work out a way of predicting basic movements, and she could get through the crowd rather easily. Within a few moments, she had reached the bar where she had seen the third person giving her applause.
There was no one there.
Natalie growled deep in her throat, a sound that surprised her, and looked around. No sign of her anywhere, which meant she simply wasn't there. The woman she had seen practically radiated her presence, so Natalie didn't waste any time looking for her in a place where that radiation was lacking. She began pushing through the crowd again, working on a hunch. The hunch proved correct. The back door to the place was hanging out, and Natalie caught a whiff of something, some perfume that seemed vaguely familiar.
A bit of doubt was gnawing at the back of Natalie's mind. How the hell could she remember any kind of perfume? She never used the damn stuff herself, and had no interest in it. Yet her nose was telling her that this was a brand she had only smelled once before, and that it lead out the back door. Shrugging, Natalie followed it into the back alley.
For a moment, her mind was snapped back to yesterday. Being dragged violently through a dirty alley by Patrick, into a place where her mind was fucked with and nightmares were made manifest. Deja vu of the worst kind. This alley was only marginally cleaner, and the ends weren't fenced off. But there was a dumpster in this alley and...
...And a pair of legs coming out from behind the dumpster.
Natalie's skin felt like it was trying to crawl off, but she fought it down. If she gave in to the fear and ran... she didn't know what would happen, probably nothing. But mentally it would be a defeat, an admission that she simply could not face what had happened yesterday. Natalie swallowed and walked forward. The light was dim, but she could see clearly enough for some reason. It was the dead of night out here, yet to her eyes it appeared no worse than late twilight.
The legs behind the dumpster were connected to a corpse. Standing over the corpse, looking just as shocked as Natalie, was the woman she had seen last night, the single person who hadn't been deathly afraid of Patrick's mere appearance. The woman licked something off her bottom lip, it looked a lot like blood in the dim light. She looked at Natalie, a mixture of confusion and fear on her face. Natalie opened her mouth to say something.
The woman hadn't moved, Natalie swore that she hadn't moved, but a moment later, she was pressed harshly against the brick wall. Something cold pressed against her throat. The woman was inches from her face, glaring at her with pale blue eyes. "Who the fuck are you?" she asked.
Natalie gulped, then narrowed her eyes, "You first."
The pressure against her throat increased. "You're not in any position to argue, bitch," the woman hissed, "I saw you yesterday, and now you're here tonight. I don't like being followed."
"I'm," Natalie made a slight coughing noise, trying hard not to move too much with a knife against her throat, "I'm not following you... I was kidnapped last night... and tonight, I'm just out here with friends... I swear, it's a coincidence..."
"Coincidence my ass," the woman hissed, "Are you with him?"
"Who?"
"Him! You know, him!"
"Umm," Natalie looked left and right, "No... I don't know which 'him' you're talking about... I mean, I know a couple 'hims', but-"
"Shut up," the woman said, then with an angry sigh, withdrew the knife, "you're far too stupid to be his type."
Natalie coughed again, massaging her throat. She looked up at the woman, "Fuck you, bitch. I'm not the one killing people in alleyways!"
Why was she talking this way to the woman with the knife? That wasn't a good idea, she had a knife, and pissing her off would probably just lead to very bad things. For some reason, these were minor concerns in Natalie's head, she was getting very pissed at this vinyl-wearing skank in a corset.
"I didn't kill him!" the woman screeched, it almost looked like she was trying to convince herself, "I didn't kill anyone! That's what he does, not me!"
"Who's 'he'?!" Natalie shouted, "And who the fuck are you?"
The woman ignored her and looked at the corpse, "Go home little girl, this isn't a good place for you. Run back to that big bad daddy with compensation issues-"
Natalie screamed and charged the woman, the entire time her mind was yelling at her to stop being such an insane idiot. She punched the woman straight across the face. Unlike what she had done to Kouzo earlier, this had the full weight of her aggression behind it. Also unlike Kouzo, this didn't seem to faze the woman at all. The punch had spun her all the way around, and now her nose was at a sickly crooked angle, but she was grinning!
Natalie only had a moment to take this all in as the woman laughed wildly, grabbed her by the shoulders, and gave her a headbutt. The impact was so harsh Natalie completely blanked out for a second. When she opened her eyes again, she was already on her knees on the dirty alley floor. A foot was planted in her side, knocking her over. Natalie watched blearily as the woman raised her foot again. There was someone behind her.
Without looking, the woman put her foot back down and spun, placing the dagger she carried at Haru's throat. Haru was holding something, Natalie's confused senses saw a sword in her hands, placed at the woman's throat. Natalie also noticed the cylindrical package over Haru's shoulder, the one she had refused to let go of, it was unzipped and empty.
"Back off," Haru said.
"Keep your little bitch on a tighter leash," the woman said.
"I said back off," Haru repeated.
The woman looked at Natalie, then back at Haru. With a wide grin, she pocketed the knife and took a few steps back, "Whatever, kiddies. You're not my problem anyways, he would have anything to do with twits like you."
She turned and walked out of the alleyway, adjusting her hair as she did so. "Wait!" Natalie said, fighting her way to her feet.
The woman stopped and turned, "Goddamnit kid, I just broke two of your ribs and gave you a concussion, stay lying down!"
"What's your name," Natalie croaked, rubbing her head and leaning against the alley wall.
"Will you leave me alone?" the woman asked.
"Fine, yeah," Natalie said.
"Tool," the woman laughed at her, "My name's May."
With that she turned and skipped away down the street.
Natalie leaned against the window and watched the streetlights go by. Kouzo and Haru were talking about something... bitching about something in the front seat. Kouzo wanted to tell Barry about what had happened, apparently Haru didn't think it was worth mentioning, and that Barry wasn't their babysitter who had to be told every little thing.
"What's going on?" Natalie asked vaguely.
"We're heading back to the Node," Haru said, "We'll try and figure out what the hell went wrong tonight."
Natalie yawned, "Nothing went wrong, we just ran into someone violent is all. They're gone, we're all good, it's over."
"She didn't feel right," Kouzo said, "Something about her was really weird."
"Yeah," Natalie said, "She was assaulting people in a back alley. You might call that a bit of a problem."
"You know what I'm talking about," Kouzo said.
"No I don't, can I get dropped off at home?" Natalie asked.
"No," Haru said, "Out of the question."
Natalie glared at the back of her head, "Hey, last I checked you guys were my friends, not my goddamn babysitter."
"Friends look out for each other," Haru pointed out, "and now's not a safe time for you."
"Fine," Natalie said, "Either you drop me off at home, or I'm going to walk home, which is a lot more dangerous. And if you want to stop me, you'll have to hold me back, which I promise I will make a very annoying and painful event for you."
"Goddamnit Natalie," Haru turned around in her seat and glared at the girl in back, "Do you have any idea what's going on out there?!"
"Yes, I just got kidnapped at knifepoint and my dad was shot," Natalie gazed levelly back at her, "And I want some time alone to think about it."
"Not a chance," Haru said, sitting back down, "You're staying with us for your own good."
"I'll drop you off," Kouzo said.
"Hey! That's not what we're doing!" Haru was incensed, "I didn't give any sort of approval for that."
"And I didn't give any approval for keeping her against her will," Kouzo pointed out, "And between the two, I vote for not essentially kidnapping her again.""What the hell were you thinking?" Haru exploded at the Node, "We're supposed to be presenting a united front!"
"Why? She wanted to go home, and I saw no reason why she shouldn't." Kouzo said.
"Oh what a load of shit, she doesn't know how to look after herself. What about the Family?"
"You mean the one with an exceptionally powerful member who was just crushed like styrofoam last night?" Kouzo asked, "After that I'm pretty sure that Natalie's not on the top of their list of priorities."
"Obviously she's not on the top of your list of priorities either," Haru muttered.
"Hey!" Kouzo's voice raised, "I care for her just as much as you do! I think she should just have a little time to herself to work this out on her own."
"Easy people," Barry came out with drinks, "You're scaring the other customers."
"Can you believe this shit?" Haru asked.
Barry shrugged, "I've checked the neighborhood, the police are keeping a bit of a watch on things after that. She's not the safest there, but I think it's safe enough for the moment."
"Oh don't tell me you're agreeing with him," Haru was fuming now.
"Natalie's entire life just got turned upside down," Barry pointed out, "She needs to cope in her own way. Don't you remember when it happened to you? How did you react?"
"Not by being an idiot," Haru said, looking away, "I don't want to talk about this any more."
Barry nodded, "Give her a little time, I'm sure she'll come around."Natalie paused halfway through the act of stuffing a duffel bag full of various items of clothing and looked out the window. Was there something out there? Her peripheral vision had told her there had been movement, but upon looking, she saw nothing but an empty black outside. Biting her lip, Natalie turned and got back to work packing.
This was such a stupid idea, just the same as everything else she had done recently, but Natalie figured since now she was on a roll, why stop? Besides, if her mother could do it, why couldn't she follow in her footsteps? Hell, maybe she'd be able to run into mommy after all these years and ask her what the fuck happened? Natalie checked the time again, 2:34, a total of three minutes since the last time she had checked it. Natalie couldn't help it, she knew that Haru and Kouzo would probably be back to check on her at any time. If they did, Natalie knew she had no chance of following through on her plan.
They'd call her stupid and impulsive... well, Haru would at least. And Natalie would immediately feel that way because, sadly, Haru would be right. But she didn't care at the moment, she knew that this was the best thing for everyone. Things had been happening, things she couldn't explain, and because of it, everyone around her was in a lot of danger. Haru and Kouzo had the crap beaten out of them by some psychotic asshole, Roger had gotten shot and was now in the hospital. It would be a lot better if she simply weren't there. Besides, she knew she could probably find a way to make it on her own.
It suddenly occurred to Natalie that the front door might be unlocked. What if someone had managed to slip in quietly while she was being an idiot and packing everything? Natalie got up and cautiously made her way out to the living room. The police had come and gone here, checking everything over and verifying what Roger had already told them. It was weird, Natalie had expected there would be a lot more involved, like questioning and such, but so far she hadn't even had to talk to anyone in uniform.
The door was securely locked after all, she had even managed to shoot the deadbolt. Heaving a sigh of relief, Natalie went back into her room to continue packing and eventually get the hell out of here.
The woman from the alley was sitting on her bed, pawing through her stuff.
For a moment time came to a standstill for Natalie as her mind tried to wrap itself around the sheer absurdity of the situation. The woman, May, looked at Natalie and gave her a wide grin. Natalie turned and ran, stumbling twice before she was even out to the living room. She was still frantically trying to fumble with the deadbolt when she heard May walking out of the room behind her. Switching tactics, Natalie ran into the kitchen and opened the knife drawer.
In her panic, she yanked the drawer right out from the cabinets and spilled its sharp contents all over the floor. Natalie grabbed a serrated steak-knife and backed into a corner as May entered the kitchen. Natalie tripped over the garbage can and fell into a pile in the corner, narrowly avoiding stabbing herself in the process. She waved the knife vaguely in May's direction, hoping it was a threatening gesture.
"Oh come on," May said, "Put that down before you hurt yourself."
"Stay back! I mean it!" Natalie squeaked.
May rolled her eyes, "Look twit, I'm not going to hurt you, I just wanted to make sure you were safe."
Natalie still waved the knife, though her arm was beginning to sag. She had just about had enough of all this, "I'm safe? You broke into my apartment!"
"I didn't mean it like that," May grumbled, "I was making sure you weren't associated with... him. Judging by things here, no, my first guess was right, you're just an unlucky twit."
"Oh for fuck's sake," Natalie dropped the knife and covered her face, "What the hell is wrong with everyone? I didn't ask for any of this!"
"What?" May asked, she looked almost disinterested now, making her way to the front door.
"Why can't you assholes just leave me alone?! I just wanted to live my life without this sort of weird bullshit going on! Did I do some horrible thing that I'm getting punished for now? Why the hell do I have to go through all this? It's not fair!"
"What's not fair?" May's voice had taken on an almost caring tone. Had Natalie been paying more attention, she would have caught the slight note of sarcasm in the tone, as if May were attempting to bait her, toying with the fishing line she had cast.
"Everything!" Natalie screamed, "I get kidnapped, I see my dad shot and he's now in the hospital! I'm having hallucinations, I'm seeing monsters, and my friends are threatening to kidnap me themselves because that's the only way they can be sure I'm safe! I didn't ask for any of it!"
There was a chortle from May. Natalie looked up, glaring at her through red-rimmed eyes. The chortle turned into a laugh as May collapsed to her knees. Natalie's skin prickled, the woman's laugh was a disturbing thing, joyfully maddened, yet always hovering on the edge of a desperate sob. Natalie could see it in her eyes, this woman was not sane, and probably shouldn't be pushed too hard.
"That's it?" May gasped between laughs, "That's all you're worried about?"
Natalie opened her mouth to reply, but May cut her off with a glare, her crazed laughter vanishing, "Do you know what I would give to have those as my only problems? You stupid little girl, you have no idea what a bad situation actually is!"
"I don't need a speech," Natalie sputtered.
"No you ignorant little shit," May spat at her, "What you need is someone to beat the shit out of you a few times! I saw your laughable attempt at packing for the road, trying to run away from everything, are we? You wouldn't survive a week out there, idiot."
Natalie was grinding her teeth in anger, "You don't know that!"
"Yes I do. I can see it in your eyes, you're a soft, pathetic little thing who squeaks and runs from shadows. There are a lot of shadows outside your warm little apartment, girl scout, and trust me, they're far deeper than anything you've encountered before. Your buddies have seen some of it, they've been through a little of it. You should run to them, girlie, they can keep you safer than you can."
"I'm not going to put them at risk," Natalie was looking away, "This is my-"
"Oh can the bullshit," May laughed, "You're scared shitless and need someone to lean on. You're seeing things you can't explain and instead of growing a pair and dealing with it, you're trying to run away from it all. Go run to your friends, idiot. Who cares if they'll be at risk? They know how to deal with it, and if they're your friends, they'll be happy to help you out."
"Why the hell should you care?!" Natalie screamed, finally losing it, "You attacked me in an alley, and now you're breaking into my apartment and trying to give me a morality tale... what's it to you?"
"It's nothing to me," May said, standing back up and walking to the front door, "I've found out what I needed to: You're harmless, a stupid frightened little girl who's too stubborn to accept the help of friends. It just pisses me off that unlike me, a waste of flesh like you actually has friends to turn to. If I were in your position, I would be milking that for all its worth, because out there, you're going to need it."May slammed her apartment door shut. She went through the twenty second process of securing all the locks. There was the lock on the door-handle itself, the deadbolt, and several more that May had installed herself. She then went to the windows in the kitchen, living room and bedroom, double checking that they were all closed, locked, and the steel bars were still in place. Only after reassuring herself that the apartment was secure did May finally allow her attention to drift to the distraction curling around her ankles.
The distraction raised a gray, furry head and meowed at her. May smiled and reached down to scritch Mallory behind the ears. The cat chirruped in appreciation, the turned and ran into the kitchen. "Food," May muttered, "Yeah."
She went to the kitchen herself, distractedly grabbing a can of minced beef and pouring it into the bowl for Mallory. She opened the fridge and looked inside. There was plenty of food in there, she certainly wasn't wanting for anything at the moment. And that was the sad thing too, she certainly wasn't hungry in any way. That wasn't right, considering that she hadn't eaten anything at all so far today, and she was definitely hungry earlier.
But for whatever reason, a trip out to a random bar, the closest thing this crappy, dirty little town had to a social center, had taken precedence in her head. It had been this way for a while, sometimes she would already be heading into the establishment before she realized what she was doing. For a while May had tried to resist the urges, establishing social visibility was the worst thing she could be doing for herself right now. But after a week of that, she actually started suffering black-outs.
Tonight was a particularly bad one, she hadn't remembered anything until she found herself standing over a fallen body in the alley, the taste of blood in her mouth and a strange sense of giddy satisfaction curling inside her. On some level, May knew exactly what had happened, but on another, she still viciously denied it. It wasn't a psychologically healthy way to live, because denying that also entailed denying a lot of what had happened over the past several years.
She wasn't completely helpless in her fight against reality though. She had established a relatively firm wall of cognitive dissonance which enabled her to pretend that things were really bad, but at least explainably so... rather than things being horrifying, incomprehensible, and otherwise physically impossible. This dissonance allowed her to accept the fact that for over a year she had been locked, literally and figuratively, in a horribly abusive relationship. That she had been the recipient of many beatings, assaults, and no small number of rapes from a single terrifying individual, and that she had only managed to escape both him and his current city of residence, Chicago, a few months ago, and go into hiding here in Milwaukee.
There was no need to accept and confront and dark realities when she admitted that he was a high ranking and dangerously influential member of several criminal organizations, that he had the power to track her down from halfway across the world, never mind a mere city away, if he really wanted to, and that May's only hope of any type of reprieve involved tracking down his twin brother, the only person he would hunt down with more determination than he would May.
It was when the thoughts and memories surfaced of her being forced to do things to people kidnapped and brought to his penthouse suite. Memories of some sort of supernatural bond being formed between the two of them, an invisible line of blood that kept her leashed to his side more effectively than any amount of psychological and physical abuse could. Memories of a strange cult of sanguinists that he was the head of, engaging in rather disgusting rituals and a sick parody of high-class social courts. The nightmares showing her that some of these ritual actually produced tangible results. When these thoughts surface, May tended to turn the music a little further up and entertain herself with the sewing machine, engaging in one of the few hobbies that had survived the years of psychological devastation she had gone through.
May knew it was a losing battle. Even if she could deny all of that, each night presented her with more damning evidence that she would never be able to live anything resembling a normal human life. That whether or not she was even human any more was debatable. It was going to happen again today, in just a few minutes in fact, as the sky was already brightening to the East.
With a resigned sigh, May went into the bedroom and lie down. The apartment wasn't too bad. Small but as she lived alone, that wasn't too much of an issue. She had enough money to last perhaps another year here, money she had managed to steal from him when she had made her escape. After that? May didn't waste any time thinking about it, her life was lived on a daily, or in this case, nightly basis. With the constant need to maintain her paranoia, to try and bury the unnatural urges inside her, to maintain the mental walls against the growing evidence that something very supernatural was going on with her, and to endlessly keep an eye out for his presence, ready to be back on the run at a moment's notice, May didn't have time to plan so far into the future.
Her body was already slowing down, her thoughts becoming sluggish as the sky outside got brighter. It would only be a few seconds before the sun crested the horizon. Only a few minutes of horror when May was confronted with undeniable evidence of what she had become, then blissful unconsciousness until she would wake up that evening, just after sunset, able to rationalize what happened as a mere dream or hallucination.
Sunlight entered the room. May wanted to close her eyes, but like every other time, some twisted part of her had to watch the process as it unfolded. It started with her fingertips and toes, moving quickly upward. The entire process took only about a minute or so, but May remained conscious through the entire process, feeling the helpless paralysis travel up her body, until only her head remained, and only then would she be released into unconsciousness.
A single tear coursed down May's cheek as she watched her limbs and torso slowly grow more pale and sleek, harden, and eventually transform into porcelain. Only when that stiffening numbness was traveling up her neck did May allow her eyes to drift shut, accepting only for that moment what was happening to her.