Chapter Text
|-Friday morning, March 22nd, 2024. Long Leaf Park, 314 Pine Grove Drive, Wilmington, North Carolina-|
Senara's here. Just as she said she would be. Let's see what it is she's got for me. I get out of my car, taking in the early spring air. Sun's barely up. In fact, I don't think I actually see it yet. Just the earliest bands of light streaking across the atmosphere, creating a blinding canvas of purple, red and pink. It'd be beautiful... If I didn't have some jagoff murderbird trying to tempt me with all kinds of demonic bullshit. I make my way to Senara, who's standing tall despite everything she's probably been through. Can't imagine what it was if she's got Aziel on her ass. Just thinking about what that snake could be capable of scares the shit out of me. Especially if dealing with Murim is going to only get worse from here on out.
"You got somethin' for me. Whatchu got?" I say as I reach her, getting the Celtic woman's attention. "Ere 'tis, me 'ansum. Make o' it what ee will, do 'ee." She says as she tosses a brown bag at me. I manage to catch it, but it's cold. Whatever is in here seems to be made out of metal. I reach in to pull it out, and I don't know what to say when I lay eyes on the thing. It's... a brooch. Or at least it looks like one. But unlike any I've seen. It's ornate, made out of stones that look more like stained glass and silver fittings and it's in the shape of a moth. And just like with Murim's feather... whatever this brooch is... just looking at it is enough to get my sanity draining. I put it back into the bag Senara tossed me and give my attention to her.
"I got no fuckin' idea. I gotta check it out later. And make sure it don't eat away at my brains neither." I tell her, not knowing what I can do with that brooch. Not that Senara seems to mind. In fact, the look on her face tells me that she was expecting an answer like that.
"Ehh, dun worry yourself. I got a few bits 'ere you can 'ave a gander at. Come to think, brought 'em with me, I 'ave..." She responds, looking over to the car she came here in. She then starts walking to the vehicle, and I follow. She opens the trunk, grabbing an electric lantern and a few books. Don't know what those could be, but something is telling me that they're related to whatever this brooch is and who it belonged to. She takes these things, turns the lantern on and heads over to a nearby table. Again, I follow.
"So... What's all this jawn? It got somethin' to do wit dat brooch thingy?" I ask, knowing that it most likely is related.
"Somethin' like that, aye. C'mon then. Dunno how much longer us 'as 'fore either o' 'em finds us out 'ere." Senara responds, gesturing that I sit across from her. I do so, making my way to the table and sitting down. With the lantern right there, I can kinda see what's on the pages of the books. One of them looks like it's about witchcraft while another looks to be some kind of genealogical record. Why would that be necessary?
"Is that a family tree?" I ask, pointing to the record.
"Aw, the ol' Die Heiliges, see. Right tragic tale, 'tis. Proper rough on Roman's immediate family, mind. Poor bugger, him." She says. Roman die Heilige... That's a familiar name. Why is it familiar? "Roman die Heilige... Didn't his family own land in Austria?" I then ask, trying to jog my memory. "Aye, Heilige Castle, up near Linz, her is. A war museum 'tis now, if I ain't far wrong. Been so since the sixties, see." Senara responds. There we go. That's why the name is familiar.
"I'm told it's haunted. How did that start?" I ask, not entirely sure why I asked.
"It all kicked off after Roman 'ooked up wi' some ol' peasant maid, name o' Elise, 'e did. Must'a been 'round... reckon 1858, I do. 'E were twenty, and she were just eighteen, mind. 'Tweren't long 'fore the spooky stuff came creepin' into the castle, see. Started subtle-like: funny noises in the dead o' night. Shadows lurkin' in th' corners, even wi' all the lights blazin'." Serana pauses before she continues speaking. "Proper 'bout three year after they tied the knot, see, Elise got herself in the family way. Twins she had, come summer o' '62, like. Goldia and Henri, they called 'em. An' from there, it just went downhill, didn't it? Elise's head wasn't right, nor Goldia's neither. Got so bad, she did, had to be took away to the loony bin in April o' '78, when she were just fifteen." That's a lot to take in.
"How did Elise respond to that?" I then ask, not entirely approving of the answer I might receive.
"Passed on, she did, when the twins were nine, see. 'Twarn't just her mind playin' tricks neither. Her body went proper pear-shaped not long after they were born, and stayed that way. No one could figure 't out, mind. By all accounts, she were healthy as could be, considerin'. 'Tis like she just... lost the heart for livin'." Is the response I get. But Senara isn't done. "Elise goin' 'n all, it proper buggered Roman up. Life went arse over tip after that, it did. Started knockin' back the booze somethin' fierce, and chasin' skirts like there was no tomorrow, just to fill that hole she left. Spennin' got so bad, his sister, Eleonore, had to step in as guardian for the twins for a bit. E ended up croakin' too, 'e did. Liver just packed up from all that booze 'e were swillin'. Shockin' 'tisn't the syph'lis that finished 'im off, like so many others in 'is shoes, chasin' maids like a proper tearaway, 'e was." Jesus... That's just... Holy fuck... But as I'm processing all of that, a few things pop into my head. One thing in particular keeps begging to be asked. Guess I better let it out of the cage of grey matter. For better or for worse, I speak.
"What happened to the twins?" I ask, wanting... needing to know more.
Senara takes another deep breath, her eyes never leaving the books.
"Right, like I said afore, Goldia, see, got took to a mental 'ospital in Linz when she were fifteen. All that bother she 'ad growin' up, it led 'er to 'aving a right mix o' mental troubles, Dissociative Identity Disorder mainly. She were in that 'ospital for a good six year or so. Got let out in eighteen eighty-two, she did." She says, eyes still glued to the pages.
"And Henri?" Senara looks up at me for once, her eyes glinting in the light of the lantern.
"No one 'as a scooby. 'E went missin' back in '73, sometime. Clean vanished, 'e did. Right into thin air." She says, after which he eyes go back to the books. So with all of that our of the way... how does this brooch factor into things? I take it back out of the bag, mind slowly going numb the more I look at it. Something is off. But I don't know what. And asking... might make the feeling worse. But I need to know.
"How is this brooch related?" I ask, eyes feeling like they're being filled with sand the more I stare into the purple stones of the moth's wings.
"That were Elise's, see. Right sure I am, 'twas hers. Her gran's originally, like. Proper plain green stone, 'twas. Not whatever... 'tis now, mind." She responds, eyes now set on the purple stained glass that is being held within my hand. It feels like it's getting heavier. It really is like Murim's feather: Something that's not meant for this world. Not meant for mortal eyes to see. And yet, here it is. In spite of it. I manage to get my eyes off the brooch and focus on Senara for once, getting my mind set straight as I do so.
"This was Elise's? How did you find it?" I ask, getting Senara's attention.
"Aye, 'twas hers. From what I could gather, she'd wear 'un all the blessed time, she would." She pauses briefly before continuing. "Found 'un, see, proper cheap in a bits-and-bobs shop way down in East London, two days afore I 'opped on the plane to New York. Wouldn' believe 'un at first, mind, 'til the ol' boy, the owner, fetched out this 'ere book." She says, tapping her finger on those old pages. "Showed me all 'is proofs, see? All the paths 'e trudged, all the dead ends. Eventually took it to some ol' boy in Linz to get it valued. That were the final nail." Well... Things just got interesting.
"And what makes you tink I want dis?" I then ask, finally putting the question out there. Senara once again takes her eyes off the books, staring right into my soul.
"See, for whatever reason... That brooch, it can keep His marquises back a bit. I dunno 'ow or why, mind you, but it do. Not foolproof, not by a long chalk, but close enough, us reckon."
Well... this is certainly an interesting development. Even if it isn't failsafe, I'll take it. If it can give me some amount of time that's safe. Any amount of time that's safe... Then it's worth it.
|-Later that morning. Randall Hall, 5162 Randall Drive, University of North Carolina Wilmington-|
Murim... That's what Cam whispered in my ear. That's what I can't say out loud. Under any circumstance, Why? Why is that a problem? I need to figure that out. And fast. I sit down in a booth and get my laptop out of my bag. I know what I'm looking for. Search engine. Start looking. It doesn't take long to find a few source, but they mostly contain information that I already know. Things I've already taken note of. I need more. I start going through the search pages, each new link taking me somewhere that only rehashes old information. I'm getting nowhere... until I see something odd.
'The Strange and Dark History of Europe'
That could potentially be something. For one, it's a blue link, not purple. Meaning that I have not been there before. Perfect. I click on the link and immediately get my notes ready. It's a lot to take in once the site fully loads. It reminds me of old, old websites from the late 90s and early 00s. It's... a bit unsettling if I'm being honest. A lot to take in. But I have to press on. Immediately, I search for anything pertaining to Germany and Austria, and find a few items. I then sift through all of those before finding... him.
Murim.
At first, it is information that I already know: That Murim is a servant to a higher power simply known as Him, can use his own forms of magic and commands his own domain, that being the Ceramic Grove of Wheat. Murim's magic can cause both auditory and visual hallucinations in his target, and can even lead them to the Grove where an unknown number of horrors reside. And this is where some new information can be jotted down:
- Murim's magic isn't just relegated to illusions, shapeshifting and bending reality. He can reanimate the dead through necromancy. He then uses these reanimated corpses for many purposes, be it food, security or experimentation.
- Despite being in control of the Grove, He can still assert his will over His servant's domain. Then there's one that I have been wanting to know. Verbatim, it says:
"Of all of Murim's powers, the power held within his own name is the perhaps most frightening of all. It is to never be said aloud under any circumstance. To do so is to alert his presence, and bring him to you. It is akin to taunting the Devil, an action that is ill-advised, unless your soul truly means nothing to you. As such, he is to be spoken about in hushed tones or euphemism and those alone, a sick and twisted kind of reverence that insures all parties are safe and may live to see another day."
I've heard of other monsters and beings from all kinds of places where saying the name of it can be enough to give it power. The wendigo from the stories of the various Algonquin peoples immediately comes to mind. Depending on the tribe telling the story, saying the wendigo's name or even just writing it down can be enough to empower it's spirit, allowing the beast to find and subsequently possess you. If Murim can operate like that... No. Can't let fear get the better of me. Not right now. I turn my attention back to the website, wanting to know if there is anything you can to in terms of defense. I look and look and look but come up empty. Not a good look. At all. In the slightest. In fact, I'd hazard a guess and say that is a bad thing. I don''t think I'll get any further. Not tonight, at least. So I bookmark this page and move onto the next topic. I want to find out more about this "Him" that Murim serves. So I start my search again, not finding anything at first. It stays like this for some time. I'm about to give up hope when I see something. I click the link and get taken to a new page. And it's just what I was looking for.
It's sparse. Not surprising given how little information about Him there seems to be, but this is the most I have seen. Like with Murim, it starts with points that I've already noted. But there is some new information. Information that is corroborated by other sources I have seen before. Information that I can use:
- He requires three testaments to be granted an audience. These testaments care acquired by completing trials orchestrated by His marquises.
- The testaments are largely unknown. No one person has been able to discern what is required, what they take or how they are made. All that is known is that it is three items to be presented as gifts for Him.
The next few things I read are once again information that I already know and have taken notes of. But with what I could jot down, it might be of some help. I just... don't quite know how. I should probably try to devise ways that Cam can use this. But I'll need to talk to him about it, and judging from the ways he was reacting when I came back last night... He's shaken. Understandable, given what he's been dealing with and what I now know. But damn... How do I even approach this? I have to be strategic. I can't just go up to him and be up front about it.
I close the tabs, and then fold my laptop before putting it back in my bag. I sit there for a few minutes before standing up, intent on heading to my next class. It's almost eleven and the building isn't that far from here. May as well get going before I'm late. So I start heading for the first floor, taking the stairs for the exercise. This is... certainly going to be an interesting two months with Cam. Maybe more than I wished for when I asked him to come down.
|-That afternoon. Crystal Pier, 703 South Lumina Avenue, Wrightsville Beach-|
I do love a good sniff o' the salty ocean air, I do. Proper pleasant 'tis 'ere. Much better'n Penzance, mind. Not that I'd say it out loud.Too proud o' me 'ome, I am. But 'ere? Wilmington? I wouldn't mind settlin' 'ere a while, no. Buh, o' course, I can't be stayin'. Wasn' even lookin' to, when I got that plane ticket, I wasn'. Need more answers, I do. Forgiveness, like. Why did she go along wi' it? Why didn' I think 'bout her needs, her wants? How could I be so selfish as that? An' why did He let me go? After I'd turned Him down proper, near to gettin' what I wanted... I just don' get it. Reckon I never will. Another one o' they tiny things, see, gonna keep 'em up all night, that. Teasin' me wi' answers I'll never get.
I take another good lungful o' that salty sea air, I will. Calmin', it is. Right relaxin', even. Helps me be at peace. But 'taint givin' up no answers, not the sort I'm lookin' for, anyways. I glances down at me phone, seein' all tha' notes I took 'til now. Everythin' I dun back 'ome in Cornwall. All tha' spots an' defenses I planned out for London. Didn' work too good, did it? Not 'til I got 'old o' Elise's old brooch, anyways. But Cam's got it now. Reckon 'e might get more outta it than I did. Seems like tha' sort, 'e does, to give it a proper go. My 'ead's spinnin' like a top, all turned 'round now, back lookin' to the sea. Reckon I best be gettin' back to that house in Lake Forest. See if I can't put a bit o' safe-keepin' in place, now I ain't got that brooch on me. Got that witchcraft book, but I'm still nowhere near knowin' why 'tis Murim and Aziel don't fancy it. Must be missin' somethin', I am. But what? I reckon I've read that book ten times over, I 'ave. What could I 'ave possibly missed? Unless... Maybe the book don't 'ave what I'm lookin' for. Maybe I need a different source. Elise, she come from Kieferburg, didn't she? I should try and find somethin' 'bout that old village, I should. Wouldn't be a bad job, no, 'specially if 't can help me get me head 'round why they'm so afeared o' that there brooch.
I be findin' meself down to one o' they libraries 'round Wilmington. Not a bad spot to start. Reckon it'll get me to better sources, if nothin' else. I'm in the folklore section, searchin' for books 'bout Upper Austria, I am. Ain't found nothin' yet, but that don't stop me from lookin', no. A bit later on, I spied summat took me fancy. 'Tales from the Forests: Lost Stories from Rural Austria,' 'tis called. Might be just the job. So I snatches up the book, heads to a table nearby, plonks myself down, and cracks it open to have a gander. Didn' take long 'fore I found summat close to what I was arter. I goes straight for the page it's on, stoppin' when I reads 'Lost Villages and Churches'. This 'as gotta 'ave somethin' for me, I reckon. So I starts readin', not takin' too long 'til I comes across somethin' 'bout Kieferberg:
'Another lost village, this one close to the border with modern Germany, is Kieferberg. Not to be confused with the German village of the same name up north in Saxony, this Kieferberg was under the protection of a patron saint by the name of Walpurga, patroness of sailors and defense against rabies. Many towns and villages across Europe bear Walpurga as their patroness, but Kieferberg was interesting, as many tales of how they venerated Walpurga seemed to border on blasphemy and idol worship. Many a tale recount of how their Walpurga was not like the woman most Catholics are familiar with. Some stories portray Kieferberg's Walpurga as a witch who abandoned her wicked ways after an encounter with the Holy Spirit nd converted to Catholicism after gazing upon the holy image of Christ. Others talk about how Walpurga's wickedness condemned her to Hell, where upon in Limbo she spent the rest of her eternal afterlife attempting to repent and find a way into Purgatory. Regardless, the debate over whether or not Kieferberg's residents were heretics would never die down. Even to this day, theologists still debate over whether the hamlet's last priest, Father Hans, was secretly partaking in idol worship at the time of his death. At this point, however, answers are not easy to come by. Kieferberg has long since fallen into ruin, it's land reclaimed by nature and the Danube's banks following the departure of it's last residents close to a century and a half ago.' Well now, that be a curious thing, innit?
Mayhap this 'Walpurga' maid 'at they did hold so dear up to Kieferberg, she's kin to Elise's brooch. I reckon I'm headin' for rough seas wi' this, but I saw His feast. Came this close to losin' me soul, 'til He reckoned to let me go, takin' 'er instead. Don't reckon things can get much worse than that, no I don't. Best I be grabbin' some notes an' gettin' on me way. Don't fancy stayin' in one spot too long, not wi' Aziel skulkin' in every shawdow, like. I know that snake well, I do. She's lookin' for me, same as always. Got her mark right here on me neck. Makes sense she'd be after me on His say-so. It's a right ol' cycle o' scorn, this is. A proper dangerous game o' cat an' mouse. One I reckon I'll lose someday, sure as eggs. 'Less I can find a way to get this blasted brand off me skin. If there even is one... Steady on, Senara. In an' out wi' tha breath. I tell ee, I feel 'e shadow creepin' 'cross tha buildin'. Not proper-like, but in me 'ead. Like some ol' nasty thing's decided ta come 'ere. She's skulkin'. Crawlin' through every crack an' corner, lookin' fer me. I knows it, I does. So when I spies them li'l beady, red eyes 'mongst the books... I gotta be off, I do. No use hangin' about, not while Aziel's 'ere. She's prob'ly already got her eye on me, she has. Reckon it's time to pack 'un up and be off. No sense loiterin' 'bout where she can get 'er 'ands on me.
Back 'ome to Pinecrest. A bit o' safety, though I reckon it won't be stayin' long. This mark 'pon me neck's like that Murim put in Cam's eye, like: Aziel can find I wherever I goes. Nowhere's rightly safe proper, not so long as this mark stays put. Dunno what I done to rile 'er up so bad, but best it be me than anybody else, seein' what it is I tried to do. Best not to dwell on that, though. Time and place for that, there is. This ain't it, not now. I spies the sage 'pon the table. Bain't worked proper good, but burnin' the herb'll give me some peace, which I'll always take gladly. Just wish I 'ad a bit o' ganja, I do. But never you mind. I'm quick-like, waftin' th' smoke 'round th' house, then off to bed. Sleep won't come easy, not with Aziel crawlin' 'bout outside. Not when she can meddle wi' me dreams. Ain't had a proper night's kip in a while, not since that night...
I can still 'ear 'er screams, I can. That wet ol' sound o' feasting, like, as He were scoffin' down every last bit o' 'er. Doan reckon I'll ever fathom why 'twas like that. Most o' what I read said if you turned Him down, like, at any point, He would respect it and be off. but He didn't respect it, see? Not wi' me. Why, though? Why was I the odd one out? This 'ere's gonna 'aunt me something chronic. For all o' my days and then some, I reckon. Best 'n' all to try and get what kip I can. Some kip's better 'n no kip at all. Even if 'tis only for a few seconds.
|-That evening. The Cordelia, 4721 Azalea Landing Drive-|
I can't stop looking at this brooch. I know I need to, for the sake of my sanity, but I can't... I swear, I see something moving in the glass every now and then. But when I try to get a closer look, it's gone. Think I've just gotten my hands on something far worse right now. Far worse than whatever Murim is trying to do with me. Make me one of His proxies... What the hell does that even mean? And how does this brooch protect me from them? Senara didn't really say. Only that it could. She better not be lying to me.
I'm sat down outside, for once the feeling of eyes never falling on me despite the vulnerable position. I'm reading from the books Senara gave me. Right now, I've got that book on witchcraft open, and I'm not really getting anywhere with it. NOthing about how a brooch can ward away a demon. Seems more like something salt or sage is used for. And already Senara told me that burning sage doesn't exactly work the way she wanted it to. Not really helping my situation. Salt could. Maybe. Go and grab some from the store and just ring it around me. Might be worth a shot. Especially if I'm out in the woods like I was two nights ago. But then again... remembering what Senara said yesterday...
'These ain't no regular devils we're dealing with.'
Going off that... I think it's fair to say that I'm not dealing with demons. Things just keep gettin' real int'restin', don't theys?
How interesting... How very interesting... Despite having my mark and everything, Cameron has... disappeared. I can sense him, yes, but I cannot seem to see him. Could it be that brooch of Aziel's ward? The one that supposedly belonged to Elise? Perhaps. Perhaps not. All I know is that Cameron is here, but unseen. Not even the murder can see him. No smell, either. Just what is at play here? What kind of witchcraft is he employing? I can't be hers, can it? No. Surely not. That old hag cannot possibly traverse the vast ocean-sea.
I remained perched on this branch, eyes trained on the building. 4721. Humans are fascinating with how they designate residences and abodes. The meticulous unnaturalness of it. The sterile smell of the interiors. The artificiality of the lighting. All so utterly fascinating. And Aziel questions why I do what I do. I take pleasure in the torment. Coming to them where they think they are most safe.
The comfort of their homes. Where nothing horrible ever happens.
Except for when it does.
And I do enjoy being the one to cause the torment. What could it be? A poltergeist? An incubus? La Llorona? Zozo? It could be any number of things. Yet they never suspect the humble crow. Only until they see it do they begin to realize how fate has lead them down the wrong path. That is the point of no return.
Still no eyes. I guess dis brooch ting does keep 'ems away. But Senara said it ain't foolproof. I don't want to test my luck. I pack the books up and start heading inside. I feel a bit safer with the walls, but I know that Murim can find me anywhere. He put a part of himself in me. In my eye. No doubt in my mind he's trying to fine me right now. No doubt in my mind that he is in the complex this very second looking for me. None of dat's gonna shock me. Not even a lil bit. I quickly find the stairs and start moving up, the weight of the books doing nothing to keep me from heading up. And these books are heavy as shit. Each one is at least eight hundred pages thick. But it doesn't slow me down. I reach the third floor and make a b-line for the apartment.
Inside, I feel like I can breathe. These walls can provide an extra layer of safety. But like the brooch, it won't be for long. Maybe that's why Senara keeps bouncing form place to place. At least, that's the impression she gives off. Constantly moving to throw off Murim and Aziel. What'd she do to aggro the friggin' Snake, anyways? Couldn't have been good. From what she told be, Aziel isn't exactly a ray of sunshine. I would not want to be on her bad side. In fact, I wouldn't want to be on any of her sides. Don't exactly like snakes.
Still nothing. Fascinating. But also incredibly infuriating. I should be able to see him. Not even the murder can see him. Where has little Cameron gone?
"Still nothing?" I ask one of the crows gathered around me, slowly feeling the pull of insanity as this game of ours continues.
"Nothing! Nothing!"
"No sights for the master! For the master!" They repeat, the cawing an unintelligible mess for those we have not chosen. I'm sure Cameron can hear us clearly. So why can none of us see him? I know that he is here. I can feel him. Sense the beat of his heart. yet for every other intent and purpose, he is invisible. It must be magic of some kind. There is no other feasible explanation. But what kind of magic? The more I try to rationalize the idea, the more I keep coming back to that old hag. What was her name again? Walpurga? Surely not. This town is no Kieferberg. There are hardly any woodlands to speak of here. She would have no power in a place like this. Not that it matters. She never dared to openly challenge me, Aziel or our Master. I doubt that would change now. But the possibility of Cameron coming into contact with an artifact of hers... No. That would be preposterous. Yet it's the only thing to make any tangible sense. And I hate that it does. That brooch she gave him must have some traces of Walpurga's power. And for whatever reason, it is heightened in his hands. I must find a way to separate it from Cameron. Then, and only then, can my plan proceed. He will became a proxy for my Master. He will obey His every command.
Dem crahs... I kin hear 'em out there... He's lookin' fer me. He knows I'm here but he can't see me. Fer once, I get ta be da predator. Yo, but I gotta be smart 'bout this. Can't just go runnin' into stuff all willy-nilly. I need a whole jawn, a plan. I look over at Bo. Asleep. It's past ten. I don't blame him. After seeing Murim's feather, I'd want to forget about it too. Purge it from my mind. But that won't be an option. Not for me.
I take one last look at the brooch, how the purple stone shines in the light. Once again, I feel my mind start to fray at the seams as I look at the stones. The way the silver fits around the contours of the wings... How the stones perfectly fit inside them... It's unnatural. How did they change into this? From what Senara told me, this was Elise's brooch. Belonged to her grandmother and was just a simple green stone in a brass fitting. How did it go from that to a purple moth surrounded by silver? And why does it make my mind feel like this? Like I'm being drained of my sanity? It's more pronounced than with Murim's feather. Don't think I'll get any answers tonight. Or anytime soon, really.