Chapter Text
|-Tuesday afternoon, March 19th, 2024. Friday Hall, University of North Carolina Wilmington-|
I still have that skin on my mind. Hard to shake it, really. I tried to focus during the lecture. I like to think I succeeded. But I also think Dr. Priester noticed something was off. Just to throw off any suspicion I told her about the skin, and that I wanted to know what kind it belonged to, so she directed me to Dr. Williard. Someone who teaches herpetology should be able to help, right? That's the train of thought.
I walk up to the second floor, making my way to her office. Just a simple question. Nothing more. Inquisitive curiosity. I think she'll appreciate the thought. Her office is room 2069? Yeah, that sounds right. 2061. 2063. 2065. 2067. 2069. The right door. I slowly approach the door, knock on it three times, and within a few seconds, I hear someone's voice from within.
"It's unlocked. Come on in. Though, I wasn't really expecting any visitors today. The company is appreciated regardless." Is what I hear as I open the door, seeing Dr. Williard sat behind her computer. She then looks up and sees me, a confused expression partly covering her face.
"Oh, you... You're Madelyne Evans, right? Grad student studying ornithology? Very fascinating stuff, that is." She says, clearly interested in me as a person.
"Yes. That would be me. I actually have something I want to show you. Was wondering if you could help me with it. If you've got the time, of course." I say as I pull out the snake skin. Dr. Williard sees it and immediately takes an interest in it. She gestures for me to sit close to her while we inspect the skin.
"Where did you find this?" She asks, wanting to know more.
"In the wildflower preserve. Didn't know what else to do, so I came here with it." I respond, being as honest as I can be without being overtly suspicious. Williard doesn't seem to notice, though. Her focus is entirely on the skin as I hand it to her with utmost care. I don't want to damage it any more that it already has been.
"Hmm..." She focuses on the head, taking in the patterns of the scales and how they're positioned. "Head is large and quite distinct. Side are vertical, and nearly flat. Looking from above, I can't quite see the rostral scale. Immediately behind that there are two smaller scales. Meaning this is an adder. Most definitely an adder."
"You sound very confident." I say, noting how she is saying things with a more definitive tone. "Well, when you've looked at snakes and their sheds for a while, you tend to notice a few things." Is her response as she continues to examine the skin. "The eyes are relatively large for the animal. Looks to be the same size as it's nostrils. Below those are around eleven circumorbital scales. Then there's the dorsal scales. Nineteen... Twenty... Yup, twenty-one rows running down the length of the skin. Speaking of the length..." I watch as she splays the skin out on her desk. It hangs off the end when she has it all unfolded.
"Woah..." It comes out of my mouth without really thinking. But Williard does take notice.
"Woah indeed. This is much larger than the largest know individual ever recorded." Is her response. What does she mean by that?
"L... Larger?" I ask.
"Yes. I'm confident in saying that this belongs to a common European adder, Vipera berus berus, but this specific animal must've been over a meter and a half long when it shed this skin. The largest individuals that have been recorded so far were from Scandinavia, both at around 104 centimeters. But of course... there are problems with this..."
"This could easily be a prank?" I respond, cutting her off before she can finish.
"I wouldn't be surprised. Hoaxes along these lines have happened before, not just in herpetology, but in other disciplines. I'm sure you're familiar with the Piltdown Man. Arguably the most infamous hoax to hit anthropology."
We start talking about hoaxes and fabrications for what feels like an hour. Maybe even two, but I do need to leave at some point. I can't keep taking up Dr. Williard's time. So I stand up, thank her for her time and go about my business for the rest of the day. But that skin... it's sticking to my brain. Like that feather. There's just... something off about it. And I can't quite place why. But it's bugging me. And I don't like it. Not one bit. It doesn't help that I saw it glint in the light when Dr. Williard held it in the light. Gold... Just like the feather...
|-That same afternoon. Historic District-|
"Why are we here? And why did you kidnap me?" I ask, still unsure as to why Bo dragged me here with him.
"You still seem all riled up. Maybe this'll take the tuck outta ya." He says, though I'm not entirely sure I got all of it. It's gonna be... interesting trying to communicate with Bo. We walk through the historic downtown, on our way to... somewhere. Don't exactly know where he's taking me. Feels more like a hostage situation if I'm being honest. We keep walking and I see... a god damn ship across the river. Is it a cruiser? Destroyer?
"The fuck... Is that... a destroyer?" Bo does not seem to thrilled by my question.
"That right there's the ol' Battleship North Carolina. She done pulled her weight in World War Two, she did." He says in that rabid drawl of his. World War II... God damn.
"So she fought Nazis? Cool." I say, not really knowing anything about this situation. "Japanese. Never did set eyes on Europe." Bo responds, clearly displeased with my lack of historical knowledge. So I decide to stay quiet on the matter. We keep walking, the battleship looming on the western bank of the river, until we stop in front of a really weird building. The hell is this place? 'Museum of the Bizarre'? What kind of circus freak show spawned this? Is it funded by Ripley's estate?
"The hell..." I'm about to continue the though when Bo interrupts me.
"The Museum of the Bizarre. C'mon, let's mosey on in there 'fore they close 'er up." He starts walking towards the door, paying an entrance fee. Guess I have no choice but to follow.
It's exactly what I thought: A Ripley's rip-off. There's a two-headed cow. A dude's skull in a weird-ass cage. Another dude's skull with his hair still on it. That's fuckin' gross. But there's one exhibit, seemingly a special and temporary display, that catches my eye. 'The Strange Wishmaker'. What? Like Rumpelstiltskin? Yeah, I've heard of the little prick. What's so special about him? I get up to the display and what I'm seeing does not look like a gnome. Looks more like a little imp. I start to read the text that accompanies the display:
'No one really knows His name or where He comes from. A strange boy. Rumpelstiltskin. Or simply Him. All that is known is that He is prevalent in England and Germany and that He can grant one's deepest desire. This wish usually comes at a cost, a cost that no one is able to truly pin down. All that is known is that you must gather three gifts to present to Him at the behest of His marquises, the Crow and the Snake. With some luck and determination, He will accept the gifts and grant the seekers wish.'
Him? That's weird. And not in a good way. I don't like this. Looking at the little imp just... creeps me out. And the mention of a Crow... Yeah, that's bringing back some recent memories that I'd rather not remember. Then there's fucking Bo...
"Well, bless His heart, He's got a face only His mama could love." He says, half slurring his words like he was drunk.
"No shit... Looks creepy as fuck." I say, not wanting to keep looking at it.
"Now ain't that the kinda thing that'd give you the heebie-jeebies and stick with ya, sure 'nuff?" Okay... Bo knows more than he's letting on. Or does he? No. I'm reading too much into this. He's just messing with me. That's all it is. I continue to watch Bo in my peripheral as he kneels down and looks at the display more. He seems to be analyzing it. A bit... too much. I don't like this. "Well ain't that somethin', seein' this lil' ol' English fella mosey on over yonder?" He mumbles, mostly to himself, but not caring that I can hear him.
"Uh... I guess..." I respond out of instinct.
"I reckon what them presents could be? Heard tell there's three of 'em, ya reckon?" He asks, more-so to himself again. I'm not responding this time. That feels like a very bad idea.
Bo keeps staring at it. And it's getting creepy at this point. It's like it cast a spell over him. And he keeps mumbling to himself. I don't like this.
"Well, ain't that the damndest thing? What in the Sam Hill are you? And why do you look so blamed familiar, you little scamp?" I gotta snap him out of this. I approach and tap him on the shoulder, which seems to get his attention.
"Well, I swan... Is somethin' ailin' you? Do I have somethin' stuck to my face, or what?" He says, unfazed by what he's been doing for the past ten minutes.
"Other than you creeping the fuck out of everyone here with the fixation on that... thing? No. Nothing's wrong. Not in the slightest. I think we should go home now." I say bluntly, hoping he gets the message. And to my shock, he does.
"Well, I swan, sorry 'bout that, y'all. C'mon now, let's head on back." He says, immediately walking back towards the entrance of the place. I follow, but that imp, Him... Just what the hell were we looking at? And then there's what Bo said: Why do you seem so familiar? I don't like where this is going.