Chapter Text
|-Wednesday evening, April 3rd, 2024. Brunswick Nature Park, 2575 River Road South-East, Winnabow, North Carolina-|
Fuck, fuck, fuck....
Just what I needed, goddamn. Another deadhead thanks to Murim. That bird-brained jagoff...
I quickly get to my feet, making sure I'm not in that skeleton's grip. Once I'm up, i get my light on it. Aight, dat's a bonehead fa sho. A bonehead pokin' outta da mud. I reach down, strategically getting those bony fingers off my ankle before I stand. Once I'm sure I'm free, I stand, still keeping my flashlight on the spot. Looks like it's just the forearm and hand. But how is it articulated like that? How did it grab me? All the muscles and tendons are gone. There's nothing connecting the bones and joints together. And I know I didn't just run into it like that. It had to have moved, closed it's fingers around me in order for me to trip over it like that.
I keep a safe distance from the arm. Knowing Murim, it's probably there because of him. Him and his necromancy. I fully expect the entire skeleton to rip itself out of the ground and start chasing me. But for now... it's immobile. The arm doesn't move. It doesn't clench. It doesn't stretch. It just stays there, looming over the leaves and between the ferns. I don't like this. I take a small, tentative step towards it, and bring the hammer down.
CRACK
The arm shutters as the hammer head makes contact with the hand. Bone fragments go flying everywhere as I quickly retreat, eyeing the spot closely to see what happens next. One second becomes two, which then becomes four. That becomes eight which soon after becomes sixteen. Nothing. Sixteen doubles into thirty-two. Before I know it, a full minute passes, and still nothing. And that... That terrifies me more than the damn thing popping out of the ground. The silence. The stasis. The inertia. The nothingness. I know for a fact that Murim is using this to taunt me, even if he can't see me. And I also know that he heard this. If ever there was a way to let him know where I am...
Wait...
Wait up a sec...
Murim prolly heard dat...
I could use this to my benefit...
I immediately start banging a tree with the hammer, making as much noise as I can. I start hearing that little voice as I do so, though...
What are you doing? You'll bring him to you.
As long as I don't say his name, he can't see me. I can use this.
You can't just attack one of His marquises.
Watch me.
I keep banging on the tree, pausing every so often to listen to my surroundings. Nothing. Not yet. So I resume hitting the tree, hitting harder so that it's louder. If that doesn't get Murim's attention... Well... There's only one option after that and it's one I'm not taking. Cuz fuck dat jawn. Ain't gotta be choppin' myselfs up just to hide from that fuckin' murderbird. I pause again, listening close to see if Murim is near. I hear rustling in the canopy above me. Could be Murim. Could be one of his crows. Could be neither and it's just a random owl. It ends up being that last one when I hear it hoot. Sounds like a barred owl. I should record it. Give Maddy a little game to play. Yeah, that's a good idea.
I hear something else above me when I finish recording the owl. It's not hooting. Hell, it's not making any sound whatsoever. I quickly start looking, but I keep the flashlight off. I don't want to scare away whatever it is. I know it's above me. But where? I take slow, tentative steps so that I'm not making too much noise as I move. I find a spot with some good coverage and sight lines, and from there I see glints of gold in the moonlight. Murim... I swing my hammer and hit a nearby tree. It gets his attention, and he flies down to investigate. I can hear him say something as he lands. "Hmm... How curious. That sound is man-made. Yet I see nobody. Fascinating..." I slowly approach from behind. Don't know why. He can't see me. I take those slow, tentative steps so that I don't alert Murim any further. Slowly... I creep towards the murderbird... Inch by inch... until...
lunge
I burst forward, and this time, I feel something tangible in my hands. I've got him. I... I actually grabbed him. Holy shit. Murim shifts and writhes in my hands trying to free himself from my grip. But I'm not letting go. Not anytime soon.
"Get your... Hands off me!" The bird shouts, still trying to wiggle out of my hands. Of course, he ain't got no clue it's me dat got 'im. Karma's a real bitch, Murim. And I ain't lettin' him live dat down. After a few more seconds of the little jagoff struggling and me attempting to strangle him, Murim manages to break free. But he doesn't fly. No. He shifts into his humanoid form, something that throws me back into a tree.
"HMPH! FUCK!" I shout as the back of my head strikes the trunk. Murim starts looking around, as if he heard it, but doesn't know who said it. I can feel my heart start pounding in my chest as that hair covered face of his turns in every direction. But then I remember that he can't see me.
Don't.
Won't stop me.
I quickly scour the ground and find my hammer, where I then take another swing. I run up, arm raised and bring it down. But I miss. Murim moves out of the way just in time. Damn. I recover, notably not tripping over a skeleton and wind up again. Arm raised. Hammer comes down. This time... I hit something.
"AH! Who has the audacity to strike me is such barbaric fashion?!" Murim shouts as he folds back one of his wings. I use this opportunity to get another swing in. Like the last one, it connects. I hit Murim in the abdomen, causing him to stumble back and shift back into a crow, where he then flies off. Presumably scared as shit.
"Youse a straight-up glass jaw! Don't be givin' it if you can't be takin' it, ya jagoff!" I shout as I watch Murim fly off like a coward. But then I remember that Murim can't be beaten that easily. He is one of His marquises after all. That kind of position gives him a lot of power. So I quickly put my hammer back on my belt and start heading out of the woods. I need to get back to Maddy's apartment and rest. Preferably before the sun starts coming up.
I manage to make my way out of the woods. I'm on a familiar path. Past some of the brush I can see Town Creek. I look right. That gets me to the main road. So I start walking down it. I pull out my phone to check the time. One thirty in the morning. Damn. Thought it would be the Witching Hour considering how long I've been out here. I make my way down the dirt path and turn left. That takes me to parking. Not too long after, I find my car and get in the driver's seat. Key goes in, gets turned, and the engine hums as I start pulling out. Before long I'm heading back to Wilmington. Back to more security. Safety. Maybe I can head to a library and read up and ways that I can fight Murim. The hammer was effective, but I know it won't be for much longer. Not after tonight. Then again, Murim don't even know what chooch hit 'em...
|-Thursday morning, April 4th, 2024. The Cordelia, 472 Azalea Landing Drive Room 3G, Wilmington-|
I ain't fixin' to do it...
I ain't fixin' to do it...
I ain't fixin' to do it...
I ain't fixin' to do it...
I ain't fixin' to do it...
I shore don't wanna bring this up to him. I really don't wanna bring this up with Paw-Paw, bless his heart. But it's lookin' more and more like I ain't gonna have much of a say-so. I glance over at that air mattress. Cam's knocked out cold. Ain't shocked, considerin' the last couple days. I'm lookin' down at my phone, starin' at Paw-Paw's number. Still ain't sure 'bout this. But if we gonna get Murim off our case... reckon I gotta do it. I got the nerve to mash that button. Screen goes to callin', and it rings a spell 'fore Paw-Paw finally answers. For a fella born back in the fifties, he's right handy with this here tech. Kinda takes you back, seein' as he lives way out yonder in the sticks.
"Whatchoo want, Bo?" Paw-Paw says, cool as a cucumber, when he answers the phone. Though somethin' tells me he already knows why I'm ringin' him up.
"You 'member them old tales you used to spin me?" I say, wantin' to just tear this here band-aid off and get it over with quick-like. It was a few heartbeats of quiet 'fore the ol' feller spoke up agin, his voice kinda shaky, but not much.
"You reckonin' 'bout that ol' crow? What you askin' 'bout him fer?" He pipes up next. I kin tell he's sweatin' bullets over yonder. How do I bring this up now? How do I do this without stirrin' up all that mess? Just gotta yank off another band-aid, I reckon.
"It's, uh... A buddy's havin' a spot of... trouble..." I say, my voice shakin' like a leaf, kinda fadin' out here and there. But I manage to spit it out. And Paw-Paw seems to be takin' it all in, judgin' by how quiet it is on the other end.
"He messin' 'round wit' that ol' biddy? What kinda bidness he gettin' into? You done tole him 'bout them tales, ain't ya?" Ain't no venom in his voice. Just... disappointment. I knew better than to be callin' him...
"Wasn't by choice, I swear. You know how that thang runs. The Crow just picked him." I say, rememberin' every lil' thing from them stories. How Murim will just up and pick his next one on a whim. Just 'cause he feels like it. Cam ain't no different. The Crow just saw him and figured he'd be a good one to mess with. Wrong place, wrong time, I reckon. "Shore wouldn't wanna be in Cam's shoes right now, bless his heart."
"You ain't fixin' to haul him up here, is ya?" Paw-Paw's just a-sayin', ain't got no meanness in him, just pure disappointment. And Lord have mercy, that cuts deeper than if he was mad as a hornet. God almighty...
"I know, I know... I'm just... reckon I jest don't know what else to do for him." I start mutterin', knowin' it ain't gonna change his mind none. Paw-Paw's always been tough as a pine knot. Was back in the late '60s when he met Mee-Maw. Still is today. And the reason he's like that? Murim, plain and simple. Well, ain't this just a doggone mess...
"Fo' days. Fo' days is what yaw got to fahgure this mess out by yaself." He says. A deadline. Gotta wrangle Cam's mess all by myself. Don't rightly know if I can, though...
"I'll try," I say back, knowin' that's just askin' fer trouble. Them's fightin' words, practically. Ain't gonna make it to the 8th, not with the fix Cam's in. Yeah, he's got that there brooch doodad. But how long's that really gonna keep him outta the briar patch? It's got holes in it, don't it? Bound to fail sooner or later. 'Cause of... well, you know, all that fancy learnin' and such. Entropy. Any contraption you got's gonna go belly up sooner or later if you leave it be.
I let out a big ol' sigh, knowin' Paw-Paw could hear it clear as a bell, judgin' by what he says next. "Ain't no tryin' 'roun' here, Bo. You gon' do it, or you gon' fall flat on your face." He speaks, voice a little wobbly from bein' up in years, but still got some grit to it. The silence is thicker than molasses, but then his voice fills up the line again.
"Y'all fall flat, and I reckon I'll see what I kin do to lend a hand. Can't rightly promise nothin', mind ya. I been tryin' to cook this crow for nigh on fifty year, and I ain't no closer to fixin' it than your buddy yonder."
"I reckon... I reckon..." I say, startin' to get the feelin' this here talk's 'bout done. Quiet. Strained-like. Quiet. The kind I can't abide. 'Specially not from Paw-Paw. But he finally pipes up one last time.
"Ya'll be keerful now, Bo. You know what dat thang kin do. Don't ya go 'head an' underestimate 'im, ya hear?" Then he slams down the phone, and Lord have mercy, I gotta catch my breath.
Suck it in through my nose.
Deep down in my belly.
Hold it a bit.
Let it out slow through my mouth.
I reckon I'll do that again, lookin' to clear my head.
Suck it in through my nose.
Deep down in my belly.
Hold it a bit.
Let it out slow through my mouth.
I glance over at Cam again. Still knocked out cold, 'til I hear him moan a little. Reckon he's finally comin' to.
"Who... were you talking to..." He's a-talkin', yawns and all, makin' it 'bout near impossible to understand a word he's sayin'. But I manage to hear 'im out anyways.
"Paw-Paw." Is all I let on. Ain't tryin' to show my hand just yet, not when we got a spell to get this figured out. Cam jest kinda grunts after that 'fore rollin' over, lookin' like he done gone back to sleep, judgin' by the sounds he's makin'. Good. This quiet's a blessin'. Gives me time to think things through. He mentioned that conjure woman when he got back last night. Reckon she might could be of some help. Don't rightly know how much they been jawin' 'bout, but it's worth a try. Anythin' to keep from stirrin' up them old hurts. I can't hardly imagine what Paw-Paw's gonna have us doin' if we don't get this mess sorted out.
Suck it in through my nose.
Deep down in my belly.
Hold it a bit.
Let it out slow through my mouth.
One mo' gin. Jest one mo' time.
Suck it in through my nose.
Deep down in my belly.
Hold it a bit.
Let it out slow through my mouth.
I done laid back, starin' up at the ceilin', tryin' to figure out somethin' we could do. When Cam's got all his marbles, I'm gonna tell him 'bout this here phone call. My little chat with Paw-Paw. Four days... That's all he's givin' us. We best be usin' that time somethin' fierce. It's gonna be a humdinger, I reckon. But... But I think we can pull it off.
Suck it in through my nose.
Deep down in my belly.
Hold it a bit.
Let it out slow through my mouth.
One more time, I reckon.
I turn back to Cam again. He oughta be wide awake in, shoot, 'bout forty minutes. Once you wake up the first time, ain't no use tryin' to get back to sleep. Lord, I done spent many a mornin' just like that. Best to just get on with it. But Cam? Now, he's somethin' else. Builders move on their own time. I look back up at the ceilin'. Murim... Just what all did you go and do to my great-uncle?
|-An unknown time, His banquet-|
These guests... So noisy. So very noisy... I simply do not understand why these guests must be so talkative.. Nor I don't understand how Aziel or the Master can stomach the noise. It leaves so much to be desired. All I want is some quiet so that I can think about ho-
"Sssssilence your chatter, Murim." The snake says to me. How very dare she. Interrupting my thoughts in such a crass manner. "Keep your thoughtsssss to yourssssself."
"My thoughts? Excuse me?" I say, offended by Aziel's accusation. "My thoughts are only voiced when asked."
"Isssss that ssssso? Then why have you been mumbling to yourssssself all evening? Are the Massssster'sssss guessssstsssss that bothersssssome?" She continues to prod. What does she hope to gain out of this? The Master's favor? Surely not. This must be art of some kind of vendetta. But again: Why? The answer never comes as Aziel slinks away, having transitioned into her serpentine form. Good riddance. I do not need her assaulting my sense alongside this quarrelsome rabble the Master calls guests. Speaking of...
Where has He gone? Did He leave so early? He's never one to disappear so quickly after finishing His meal. He usually stays to bestow His gift upon our guest of honor. How queer. Very odd. I look around once more. No sight of my Master. I stand. I take note of the hall. The noisy guests have dispersed. It's just me in the banquet hall. And for the first time in centuries... that solitude is oppressive. I do not like it in the slightest. It's grating. It's irritating. It's... passive. Far too passive.
I begin to pace the hall, mind racing with ideas of just where my Master could have gone. He isn't tormenting someone in their dreams, is He? No, my Master has had his fill. He cannot possibly be doing that. Not when someone has so thoroughly pleased Him with His testaments. So the question remains: Why has He vanished? I simply do not understand.
I continue to search for my Master in the castle, looking in places where I suspect Him to be. But He is not there. He is not anywhere to be found. Strange. Perhaps I should give up on this endeavor. Return to my Grove. After all, I do have a man to torment. A man to break and a man to mold. Oh Cameron... You sly fool... I being my march out of the castle, quickly shifting into my more avian form upon realizing flight is far faster than walking. The air feels smooth under my wing, all in spite of the injury I had sustained earlier. Just who would take such a risk? Certainly not Cameron, the sad, scared little boy that he is. Yet that unshakable feeling... Of Cameron's heartbeat in the woods... I could feel it. Sense that he was near. That he was there, lurking in the darkness.
I continue my flight, feeling magic buzz around me as the barrier between domains becomes thin. After a few seconds, I find myself flying over an unfathomably large field of wheat. One field with impossible turns and non-euclidean architecture. Such a fascinating term. Non-euclidean. So fancy. So... bourgeoisie. Yes... I would describe the grove as non-euclidean. It certainly follows nothing that could be described as parallel.
My flight continues unobstructed... until I see something odd. A small figure on one of the many ruined aqueducts that track across the Grove. I know this figure. It is my Master. I slow my pace, not wanting to startle Him for any reason. I eventually reach Him, perching by His side before announcing my presence.
"My Master." I say as I shift into my more humanoid form. He does not move. He does not acknowledge me. Not through any visible means, at least. The silence stretches until He finally speaks.
"Why are you so fixated on this... human, Murim?" He asks me.
"I believe he would make a good proxy for you, my Master." I respond, gauging His reaction as best I can before he speaks once more.
"A proxy? For what purpose? I have never had need for a proxy. Not when you and Aziel are satisfactory in your roles." He says, still not turning to face me. This is something I had not considered. I have been so focused on breaking Cameron that I had not stopped to think about the how. What role could he potentially fill? How can I answer this question that my Master has posed to me?
"I... will need time to ruminate on the thought, my Master." I say after some deliberation. It is now that He turns to face me, hair swaying briefly to where I can see His singular, golden eye before it is once again covered up.
"Time may not be on your side, Murim. From what Aziel tells me, the Celt aims to collude with him." He says, once again looking out over my Grove. "How will you deal with that variable, I wonder."
"Separate them. Separate Cameron from the former desiree. Aziel can take her for all I care." I say in response, watching my Master once more to see His reaction.
"And what of this 'Cameron'? How do you plan to bend him to my will?" Is the response I am given.
"I present him with the truth." I tell my Master. "The unalienable truth. That human life means nothing in this world. That in the grand calculus of the universe, the ape's mind and viewpoint is insignificant. Nothing more than a scant moment on the timeline. If even that." I watch as my Master continues to observe the Grove below in that twisted and stoic manner of His. Silence hangs between us before He takes a deep breath, turning to face me once again.
"The truth? That is how you will break him? And what if this plan backfires? What if... he fights back? As he has been doing?" He says, golden gaze piercing me from behind his hair. I think back to my injured wing. The place that it happened in. Of course. Of course it was Cameron. Who else could it have been? Who else would be so brazen? So audacious? If I am to break Cameron and bend him to my Master's will, then I must find a way to separate him from that damnable brooch. That lingering stench of Walpurga that has found it's way here to this New World with the Celt. It must be dealt with.
My Master turns back to the Grove, saying nothing. This conversation has ended. One moment, He is there next to me. The next... He is gone. And I am left alone with my thoughts. The truth... What comes after that? What becomes of Cameron once his mind is shattered and crushed? How will my Master make use of the man? Questions, questions, questions... I feel it will take some time to find answers for them. One thing is for certain though:
I have chosen quite the quarry to be my prey.