Chapter Text
|-Friday morning, April 5th, 2024. North Carolina Museum of History, 5 East Edenton Street, Raleigh, North Carolina-|
The air in here is crisp. Too crisp. It almost tastes sanitized. But I guess that's what I should expect from a museum. Wit all dese artifacts dey got hangin' on the walls. I turn to Bo, who's looking at and admiring an old musket that's hanging on the wall.
"Why are we here again?" I ask him, still not sure why we drove four hours to Raleigh from Wilmington. It's gonna be a long drive back…
"I got a friend internin' down here. She knows her way around Native folklore, so I'm hopin' she can lend a hand." He answers, eyes never leaving the musket. "Hmm… Looks like it's plumb from the Mexican-American War, or somethin'... Nah... ain't that one. Reckon it's a mite older. I'm plumb terrible at tellin' these muskets apart." I leave Bo to that, but not before asking another question. "Does she even know we're here?" I watch as he turns to face me.
"She oughtta. Told her last night we'd be a-comin'." He responds as he starts walking. I follow, and we eventually find ourselves next to a display that looks like a recreation of a street in the 1890s. I look at one of the signs. "Durham: Renowned the World Over" is what it reads. I wonder what for…
"Tobacco. Durham got big on tobacco right after the war. It was Brightleaf they was a-sellin'." A female voice says from behind me and Bo. We both turn around and see a woman who doesn't look to be much older than both of us.
"Kasey. It's good to see ya." Bo says as he approaches her, getting her in a hug for a second before letting her go. "This here's Cam. He's a buddy of one of the folks I live with."
"Good to see ya. Bo mentioned your... troubles, so to speak. I can't promise nothin' for certain, but I'll do what I can to lend a hand." Kasey says as she outstretches her hand, wanting me to take it. I do, giving a good grip as I shake.
"Well, it'll be better than nothing." I say, chuckling at the absurdity of everything that has been happening to ever since that night in Virginia. I let go of Kasey's hand, taking a deep breath before I speak up again. "Anywhere private we can go? I'd rather not talk about it out here."
"Ain't no trouble. The intern offices are up on the fourth floor. Just follow right after me." She says as she turns on her heel. Guess I ain't got no choice, draw?
"So this... Crow's been doggin' ya since Virginia? Reckon that's somethin'. If you're sayin' he's more 'bout them European folks, then why in the world are ya askin' 'bout Native folklore?" Kasey asks after I give her the rundown.
"Covering my bases, I guess. See if there's anything that Native Americans potentially had to protect themselves." I respond, still unsure if this will work. Kasey looks over her desk while I shift in my seat. Bo just stares out the window, watching as birds go by every now and then.
"Now, for them Native folks, crows stand for a heap of things. Some tribes reckon they represent how life and death go 'round in circles, seein' 'em come and go with the summer and winter seasons. 'Cause of that, them folks see crows as a plumb bridge between this world and the next." Kasey starts, pausing briefly just to make sure I'm paying attention. "Now, that goes right back to how crows are plumb always hangin' 'round dead things, pickin' at what they can 'fore they take off. Reckon it ain't much different from how folks over in Europe look at 'em, thinkin' they're bringin' death 'cause they're stuck loiterin' 'round graveyards and carcasses. But that ain't the only thing them Native tales got in common with them old European stories. Y'all know Odin, don't ya? The Allfather and king of them Aesir folks in them Norse myths?" She asks. Kinda goofy question, but it's whatever.
"Uh, yeah. I'm familiar with it." I respond, not sure where Kasey is going with this.
"Odin’s got himself two ravens. Ain’t crows, but they’re kin, I reckon. Huginn and Muninn. They act as his eyes ‘round these parts. Now, that’s ‘cause them corvid birds are mighty smart. That’s why a heap of Native folks ‘round North America look at crows like they’re tricksters, just like them coyotes. But they ain't just fooling ‘round; they can be messengers or even change their shape. Some tribes say they use that to play tricks on folks. Sometimes it’s kindly, but other times... well, not so much." She says, taking a deep breath as she gauges my reaction. "I can tell this here... is fixin' to do somethin' for ya."
"That's one way to say it…" I respond, looking out the window just like Bo. Must be my lucky day, because a crow goes right by it. Could it have been Murim? Maybe. Could've also been one of his murder he sent out trying to find me. Wouldn't be surpised by either.
I take another deep breath, not happy that we didn't get much information today, but still glad that it's something. Though, one thing is nagging at the back of my mind.
"How did Natives best crows when the tricks were malicious?" I ask, watching as Kasey mulls over her desk again, unsure of what to make of the question.
"Don't reckon I can do you much good. I'm just a greenhorn around here. You'd best go ask one o' them curators, though none of 'em knows much 'bout Native American folklore just yet. And we ain't fixin' to have nobody who does for a good long spell. Come May, this whole place is gonna be shut up tight for four years 'til 2028 'cause they're fixin' to do some big ol' renovations." Kasey says in a defeated manner, eyes going down to her desk as she gets the words out.
"Now look, Kasey, what you told us was better'n a kick in the pants, but I reckon we can find folks or some other way to get a hand with this. No shade intended." Bo says, getting Kasey's attention as he speaks.
"Oh, no offense taken. Truth be told, I was fixin' to suggest that same thing. I'd start on down at the State library. It's right a piece from the museums, just a hop and a skip across Jones Street." Kasey says as she points in the general direction of Jones Street. "Just git through North Wilmington and you'll be fixin' to be fine."
"Thanks. Even if it wasn't much, it's still nice information to have." I say as I stand up, heading for the door. Bo follows suit, but not before telling Kasey goodbye.
"I'll see ya 'round. Hopefully not too much longer." He tells her.
"Me too. Reckon it was good seein' y'all again, though. Y'all take care now." I hear Kasey as as we exit the office and start walking down the hallway. I then turn to Bo, several questions in my mind wanting to be asked.
"You think we'll find anything useful at the library?" I ask, starting my first round of questioning. "Hard to say. Might happen. And if it does, it’ll be a real blessing. So let's just pray there's somethin' for us there. If not, we might have to head on over to NSCU. That James B. Hunt Jr. library is a whole lotta space. Reckon it's a third bigger than the State library." He says, giving us another option in the process. James B. Hunt Jr. Library, huh? We gotta go check that out.
"So that's the plan? If we don't find anything in the state library we head over to NC State and peruse through the campus library?" I then ask, watching as Bo's face goes through a few emotions before he answers.
"That’s the long and short of it, yeah. Like I told ya: NCSU’s library is plumb huge. If we can’t find it at the state library, we’ll find it over there for sure. Always good to have a backup plan, don't ya reckon?" He responds, giving me a sly smirk as we reach the elevator.
"It's good to have multiple backups. But in our case, one should be enough." I say as I punch the button for the ground floor. The elevator hums to life as we start descending, slowly making our way down as we continue our conversation.
"I still don't reckon why you were lookin' for all that Native American folklore. We already settled that this crow's from over in Europe." Bo says, eyes looking up at the floor indicator.
"Like I said in her office: I want to have my bases covered. Anything that could potentially help,I'm taking it." I respond as we reach the ground floor. The doors open and we step out, making our way to the front doors and outside.
"I hear ya. But them Natives, they see things a whole different way. Plus, they don't go fixin' to mess with nature much at all. They're more inclined to just live alongside it." I hear Bo say as we step outside, taking in the warm air of mid spring into our lungs.
"Maybe they knew something we don't." I tell him as we start walking towards North Wilmington Street. Kasey wasn't lying: The state library is just right there.
"Okay, so we cross Jones here and then cross North Wilmington." I say as I plan out how we're going to reach the library.
"I reckon I'm fixin' to agree with ya." Bo says as he hits the button on the stoplight. Within a few seconds, we get our signal to cross, where we then repeat this process on the next light. Before long, we've reached the state library, but we linger outside for a few minutes.
"What're ya lookin' to find, Cam? I'm fixin' to doubt if this is even gonna pan out." Bo says as I make my way up the steps.
"Don't know. But dere's only one way to find out." I respond as I walk inside, feeling the cool air of the AC hit my skin after being in the sun. It was only a few minutes but hot damn, this NC sun is out here cookin' for real.
|-That same morning. UNCW Randall Hall Library, University of North Carolina at Wilmington, 5162 Randall Drive, Wilmington-|
I want to help. Cam needs all the help he can get. So here I am in the library between classes, wanting to know more about Murim. Though… I don't exactly know how indigenous legends are going to help. Murim's stories all come from Europe. The Old World. I don't know how stories form the New World are going to help him out. Maybe there's something there that we don't know. Maybe some trick indigenous people's used to ward off evil spirits. Maybe he thinks that can work. I sit here with a book on indigenous folklore form people up in New York. "Seneca Myths and Folk Tales" is what it's called. And there's one story starting on page 278 that has my eye. "The Twelve Brothers and the Wraith of the Evil Warrior". Wonder what this could be about. So I get a new note opened on my laptop and start writing down things I think could be useful. Things that Cam could to that might help. Though, at the same time, the thought of this being cultural appropriation is lingering in my mind. None of us are indigenous. And this… I don't know. It doesn't quite feel right. But desperate times, I suppose.
Hmm… that didn't really help as much as I thought it would. We're not dealing with a wraith or ghost. Murim is something else entirely. I close the book and start to return it where I found it. Another dead end. Unfortunate. But not entirely unexpected. When Cam brought this up, me and Bo immediately looked at each other and I could tell he had the same thought I was having. 'This won't work.' Makes me wonder if they're having any luck in Raleigh. One of Bo's friends works at the history museum. They should be talking with her right now. Should I send them a text? Ask how that's working out for them? No. Too much. I return to where I had set my bag down and gather my things. I have classes soon and I don't want to be late for them. I could always come back here and do more personal research into Murim. Try and find different sources. That seemed to work the last time. But that could just as easily be toxic optimism. Last time I checked out any website with information on Murim, I got almost nothing on Murim himself. Not in terms of weaknesses, at least. Though Cam did mention that things that can ward off demons ar effective… Even though Murim isn't a demon. I need to get going. No time to waste.
Maybe lunch can help clear my thoughts. Give me a better idea of what Cam's dealing with. I look down at the basket that has my food in it. Wings. And they're not too bad.
"So this guy from Philly… Boyfriend?" Sarah asks. Rudely, might I add.
"What? No." I tell her as I take another bite, that damn golden feather coming back to my mind. I still have it. I'm tempted to just… look at it whenever I remember it. But then I start remembering how draining it felt to do that. I need to get rid of it.
"Then what is he? You were talking non-stop about him before he came down here. And frankly, you haven't stopped." Jay decides to enter the conversation.
"He's a really good friend. Like a brother. Now drop it." I say as I finish my food. I grab my cup and drink the last of my water as Sarah stares me down. "What? Is there something on my face?" "Are you at least gonna tell us what he's like?" She asks, that flirtatious look now in her eyes. "About Cam? Why would I do that? I know what you're gonna try and do." I tell her, waving away the look in her eyes. "Not like you'd succeed, anyhow." I then add, under my breath.
"You said he works construction, right? ow is a bookworm like you friends with him?" Jay retorts on behalf of Sarah.
"We met as kids. Pretty much stuck together throughout elementary, middle and high school. I'm the only reason he graduated." I say, chuckling as I remember how close Cam was to repeating sophomore year. Sarah notices the gesture and immediately digs in.
"Oh, so you do like him…" She says, adding venom to her voice. "I do not." I respond as something gets my attention.
I spot a waiter bringing some kind of desert to our table.
"I… don't remember ordering that…" I say as he sets it down. A cheesecake. Yeah. Definitely didn't order this.
"We ordered something before you got here. Made sure there was enough, though." Jay says as she cuts into the cake, grabbing a slice for herself. How thoughtful.
"Well thanks." I say as I grab a slice of my own. But the color of the cake reminds me of that feather again. That damn golden feather. I'm burning it. Next time someone has the fire pit going in the complex, I'm sneaking that feather into the inferno. But that can wait. I need to finish eating. Then find out anything I can about Murim. And I do mean anything.
Back in the library for the afternoon. All classes are done for the day and I'll be here until 5. I get my laptop back out, plug it in and start surfing the web. I pull up some old notes I took a few weeks ago and see some of the old websites I had gone to.
"Odd European Folkore"
I get that link open and it takes me to the homepage, where I see something has been added. Something new, yet familiar: An article on Murim. Seems they're doing a little special treat for their readers today. Just my luck. I click on the article and start seeing a lot of information. Mostly things I already knew thanks to Cam and previous ventures into this, but there are a few things that are entirely new. New to me, at least. Namely: Necromancy. Because of course. Why wouldn't Murim be able to raise the dead?
I quickly go through it and take as many notes as I can. The corpses Murim raises act as a defense mechanism for the Grove. And anyone unlucky enough to be guided there that dies becomes a part of that defense mechanism. Theses undead thralls can also be used to some degree offensively, though they are weaker when Murim is using this power outside the Grove. That… Cam might be able to use that in the future. The thralls are only skeletal and not even the whole body, only select parts depending on what Murim is trying to do. Yeah, Cam can definitely use that information. But I need to know if there's anything that can ward him off. Not just things that can be used against demons. Things specific to Murim. I think back to that brooch Cam showed me and Bo. How it can "hide" him from Murim. Magic's real, I guess. So much for logic and science. But how exactly does it work? I need to find that out.
Another tab, another note. This time, focusing on witches in Central Europe. And immediately, I find something worth looking at.
"Tales of Witchcraft in the Austrian Empire"
Bingo. I click the link and start reading. As soon as I start processing the information, I write down whatever I think might be able to help Cam. This keeps going for a few minutes until I reach something I didn't expect. A little village called "Kieferberg" and it's saint. A figure called Walpurga… This can either end very well or extremely poorly for Cam. I read on, and learn that this Walpurga is not like the patron of sailors. Many stories say that she was a witch that later converted to Catholicism for one reason or another, thus redeeming her soul. But there's one little thing that catches my eye. A little throwaway line.
'While this Walpurga did convert to Christianity in life, she still held on to some of her power, and used it to defy many imps, demons and other evil spirits that inhabited the woods surrounding Kieferberg. Among them is a small being simply referred to as Him. Walpurga's magic can repel Him and His proxies, though the reason why is not well understood.'
This. This is what I've been looking for. This could be what saves Cam's hide. But now I need to figure out how this ties into that brooch Cam has. Maybe whoever gave it to him can help. I'll need to ask him and Bo when they get back from Raleigh.
|-That afternoon. James B. Hunt Jr. Library, North Carolina State University. 1070 Partners Way, Raleigh-|
"Nothin' come up yet?" I ask Cam, watchin' his face go from one kind of peeved to another.
"Nuttin' at all." He says, sittin' down right across from me, takin' a long pull of air tryin' to get himself squared away. "Startin' to feel like a real dumb jagoff."
"Now don't go sayin' that." I say, tryin' to keep our chins up. "This might be a dead end, but there's gonna be other ways. We just gotta keep our heads together." I keep talkin, tryin' my best to act like I got it all figured out, even though I'll admit, this's fixin' to get us real discouraged.
"Like what? You got any bright ideas, Bo?" Cam asks, soundin' a mite bitter-edged. It's got my mind fixin' to work. Gets the wheels spinnin'.
"That brooch. You said it could keep you hid from the Crow. How's that work?" I ask as the thought hits me. Cam goes from plumb ticked to plumb confused then right back to being ticked. Reckon he wasn't fixin' to answer that, and he didn't care for it none.
"Dunno. Don't give a damn as long as it works and I ain't sayin' his name out loud." He answers back. Now, that ain't the right way to act.
"Well, how 'bout we just wrap out heads 'round how this works? Surely Senara told ya somethin' 'bout it, right?" I ask, fixin' to get all the info I can out of Cam before we go lookin'.
Cam gets all turned around again and just sits there plumb stuck for a good minute. He pulls out his phone, likely lookin' at somethin' he jotted down a few days back. Then he's lookin' at me, then back at his phone, then back at me again. Then, he just takes another long ol' breath.
"Apparently this brooch belonged to a low noblewoman from Austria named Elise die Heilige." He starts on, lookin' plumb defeated and all. "Born out of the woods. From a witch named Walpurga. Apparently she doesn't get along quite so well this Him and His marquises. The inciting incident was Elise's birth, form what I could gather. He took some old woman's wish for a child and made it a reality, using Walpurga's forest as the womb."
"Oh… Now, that… that just ain't right." I say, tryin' to wrap my head round what Cam just told me
"An old lady… No. That just don't sit right with me." I keep pushin', 'cause I ain't fixin' to let that slide. There ain't no way an old woman made a deal with Him just to have a baby. "That's plumb selfish. The kind of thing that'll land you straight in Hell."
"That's what Senara told me. And I was able to verify it." Cam says somethin' back, lookin' right back down at that brooch. "She thinks that Walpurga took a part of Elise after she died. Her brooch."
I take a deep breath, still tryin' to wrap my head round everything Cam just said. This old lady made a deal with a lil' devil for a kid… and used a witch's domain like a womb… then that witch went and took somethin' from that child once she passed on… Lord, it's just too much. But still, we gots to do somethin' with what we know.
"Why's He got such a beef with Walpurga? I can see why she'd be a lil' worked up, but Him? Just don't see it." I say, my voice startin' to shake a bit.
"Don't know. Never really gave it that much thought." Cam says as his eyes meet mine for a moment, then they dart right over toward the window. Did he spot another crow? Is Murim still out lookin' for him? I don't get a lick of an answer when Cam turns back to me. He just stays quiet as a mouse.
"Well, why don't we go take a look?" I ask, knowin' full well that, like all the Native stuff, we probably won't get much further than we already are.
But it just might be worth a go.
Cam gets up and heads straight for a computer. He sits a spell and starts diggin' through things. He's movin' a whole lot faster this time. Almost like he knows just what he's lookin' for. Then I recall what he was sayin' 'bout that brooch the other day: How he can hear it talkin'. I ain't fixin' to believe it just yet, but I'm plumb curious. I look over at where Cam was sitting across from me and see that brooch sittin' right there. I figure I might as well give it another go. So I do. I pick up that moth-shaped thing and hold it up to my ear, holdin' my breath real quiet so I can hear whatever it's got to say.
ba-dum
ba-dum
ba-dum
Nothin' at first. But I'm just too curious to set it down yet.
ba-dum
ba-dum
ba-dum
A few more seconds tick by and I still ain't hearin' a lick. I'm fixin' to just let it be, but right as I go to set that brooch down…
He's here.
It caught me plumb off guard. Sounded like a young woman's voice, real faint-like. Reckon she ain't too much older than me and Cam. I looked all 'round, but ain't a soul near us. Which means… It had to've come from…
"Was… that you…" I whispered, lookin' straight at that brooch.
Be quiet. Murim is here. Hunting. Put me back in his pocket.
I snatch up that brooch quick and head on over to Cam, setting it down right beside him. He looks up, but 'fore he can even get a word out, I lean down and whisper in his ear.
"Take this. He's around. That little girl in that there brooch told me." I tell him, and he slides it right into his pocket 'fore gettin' back to his searchin'. I head back to our table and keep a close eye on folks passin' by, all while that woman is still carryin' on with me. And form the sounds of it-in my head, mind you-Cam's in on this too. Even if he don't say a word.
You won't be able to tell easily .
So what an I fixin' to look for then?
Odd movements. Constantly staring in one direction as if searching for someone. Hovering around certain places like he's setting an ambush. Murim may try to get to Cam through you.
So you're sayin' I oughtta steer clear of Cam?
For this moment.
I take a long breath, let out a sigh, and get myself up. It catches Cam's eye, but he looks like he's already onto me. I start headin' down the hall toward the elveators. I'm fixin'to head out and walk a bit just to keep Cam out of trouble. Is it gonna work? Reckon I don't know. But it's better'n nothin'.
The afternoon air's real crisp today. Just the way I like it. This little spot I'm at is mighty fine. I'm sitting by the engineering buildings, lookin' over that big 'ol lawn all the way to the library. Reckon I can see the farmer's market if I turn just right. But then that brooch's words come back to me. How Murim ain't gonna be easy to find. How he's fixin' to lie in wait. I best watch my step. I start headin' back towards Main Campus Drive 'bout the time I get that feelin' someone's watchin' me. Murim. Reckon it's him. I look around, but don't see a lick of nothin' at first. But as I'm passin' by one of them buildings, I'd swear on a stack of Bibles that I saw somethin' duck into the shadows. The feeling's just gettin' worse and closin' in on me. I gotta git. I know where my truck's parked, so I start haulin' tail to get there, tryin; to text Cam at the same time-splitthin' my mind between walkin' lookin' out for Murim, and my phone.
'Hey, might be in a bit of a fix.' I text him, waitin' to see what he says. Takes a second or two, but Cam does pick up.
'What's the problem?' He replies, and I can tell by that pause that he's fixin' to be worried. Real worried.\
'Think Murim might be on my tail.' I text back, pickin' up my pace to make a bee-line for the lot across from the library. 'Write down what you need and meet me at the truck. We're heading back to Wilmington right this second.' I don't need no more texts to know Cam's fixin' to pack his bags. I can tell. So there's a lick of hope. But at the same time… them eyes are gettin' closer. I take a peek at the library and I'd swear on a Bible I saw some kind of shadow person on the roof lookin' out. Lookin' straight at me. That ain't right. Not one bit. I'm fixin' to find some cover but it ain't doin' me no good. Time just stands till, then I hear a thud right near me. I ain't even lookin'. I know exactly what that was. I keep on movin', catchin' a glimpse of Cam through the glass. That's what keeps me goin'. That voice behind me, though…
"And where do you think you're going, Robert?" I hear Murim hollerin', but I don't say a word. I don't even give him a look. I just keep walkin'.
"It is rude to ignore those who want to converse with you, Robert." He won't quit on talkin'. That high-pitched hollerin' of his is plumb irritatin' my brain. Just tune him out. Just hush up and ignore him. But that winged varmit sure makes it a chore.
"You will acknowledge my presence, Robert." He gives it another go. Still plumb fails. Just keep on a-walkin'. The lots right there. But then Murim's gotta go and act a fool.
"Perhaps a visage of your dear great-uncle will set your straight."
I stop right there. Dead in my tracks. Hell no. Not on my watch. Ain't no way in hell that sumbitch is gonna go mentionin' my great-uncle. Not when I know he's the reason Uncle Darrel is gone.I turn 'round and see Murim. He'a a whole lot smaller that I reckoned. All the better. I start stompin' on over to him, lookin' for blood, fist clenched tight. But as I'm fixin' to swing, he's gone.
"Hmm… yes. Just as I expected. Too predictable, Robert. Just like your grandfather. Just like your great-uncle."
"What you want, you bow-legged bastard?" I holler, not even lookin' to see if anyone's around. Ain't nobody here after a quick peek.
"You know exactly who I want, Robert. Where is Cameron?" Murim don't beat around the bush, talkin' sharp as a tack. I can't stand the sound of it; it gets right under my skin.
"Like hell I'm tellin' you." I say, spittin' his way. I know it ain't doin' much, but I'm plumb tired of this occult horseshit. I just want this whole thing to be over and done with. But Murim's got other plans. One minute he's perched up on a light post lookin' down at me, then I blink and he's got his talons sunk right into my leg. I'm holdin' back a yell, but it hurst like a mother.
"A horrible decision, Robert." He whispers in my ear as he lets go. As much as that hurt, I don't feel no blood runnin' down my leg. I then take off runnin' toward the lot while Murim's actin' all high and mighty.
"A little whelp. Just like your great uncle." That's one.
"Run while you can. It won't keep Cameron from my grasp." There goes another one. "You'll join Darrel if you keep this up." That bastard thinks he's real smooth.
I just tune out Murim's yappin' as I get to my truck, unlock the doors, and hop into the driver's seat and Cam climbs in beside me. He looks plumb wore out, but he's still doin' better'n me.
"You look like shit." Cam hollers as he sees me, but I don't pay it no mind. I get them keys in the ignition and head on out. I don't want to be fixin' to deal with this right now. I just want to get us home.
"So he was taunting you? Jesus… Dat murderbird's goin' crazy tryin' ta find me." Cam's talkin' while I'm tellin' him the whole story. I'm still plumb shook. And riled up. Bringin' up Great Uncle Darrel like that… That crow is just awful. I'm gonna wring Murim's neck if I ever catch up to him. "Let's just focus on gettin' back to Wilmington." I say as we're rollin' down I-40. "We can fix to talk more later." Cam ain't fussin' none. He's just starin' out the window, likely havin' a whole talk with whatever's in that brooch. I'll gots to ask him what he found when we get back. But for now: the road. It's gettin' dark and it's gonna take us a good while to get down to Wilmington. I need to keep my eyes peeled on the road, so Cam's gonna have to keep lookout for anything out of the ordinary.
"Hey, watch for anything strange." I tell him as we keep rollin' along, fixin' to go a mite slower than the limit.
"Don't gotta tell me twice." He hollers back while fidgetin' in his seat, eyes fixed right to the window. Reckon he's got somethin' weighin' on him, though. "We're not gonna get out of this mess on our own, are we?" He asks, soundin' all defeated like. This can't be no good.
"Not with an attitude like that." I tell him, 'cause I don't even wanna think 'bout what's comin'in two days if we don't get our act together. I don't care to head up to Burgaw. I don't want to pokin' at old wounds. But we're runnin' low on time, and that means we're gonna start actin' desperate. I don't care much for that. But then that lil' voice starts actin' up again. Reckon Cam's a-hearin' it too.
Maybe the witch can help.
I glance over at Cam real quick, and his eyes say everything I need to know. "You heard that too?" I ask, knowin' dang well what he's going to say.
"Witch? What witch? You think it's talking about Senara?" He starts goin' off, and we hear that voice one more time.
Is she not a witch?
I can tell right now Cam's fixin' to talk to that thing. Tell it Senara ain't no witch, she's just doin' what she's got to do to get by.
But she can still help?
"Well, she's been helpful so far. No reason to not ask again." Cam says out loud, makin' sure I'm in the loop too. Reckon we got somethin' to look forward to, even if it is a bit peculiar.
We done passed Faison by now. Reckon it's another hour and a half 'fore we hit Wilmington. And I'm feelin' eyes on me again. Murim's been tailin' us the whole way. Vengeful little bastard, ain't he? But I'm fixin' to keep my eyes on the road while Cam keeps a lookout. We're gonna make it back in one piece. I'll see to that.
"You think he's following us?" I hear Cam askin' from right beside me.
"Ain't gonna surprise me none. If he tracked us all the way up to Raleigh, he's fixin' to tail us straight back down to Wilmington. Hell, he followed you all the way from Philly, didn't he?" I shoot back, hopin; to squeeze out a bit more out of Cam 'bout how and why this whole mess started. "Don't know. Really only noticed the weird shit in Virginia. And I was almost in NC by that point." He gets back to me, givin' me a rough idea of how it all went south.
"When'd you head out of Philly?" I ask. "What was the first thing that seemed plumb wrong?" I'm tryin' to hit him with the one two punch.
"Uh… It was early in the afternoon of the 16th. Back in March. Spent that whole day driving. Nothing really out of the ordinary started happening. Wasn't until that night that things got weird." Cam gets goin', tryin' to piece together that long ol' drive of his. "Second I passed by Richmond there was nobody else on the interstate. This is I-95 we're talking about. Keep that in mind. That's also when Is tarted to feel like I was being watched." Cam pauses a spell, fixin' not to go on, but he knows he's gotta. "Every glance I'd take at the tree line I swear I saw tiny little red dots. Staring right at me. Didn't get better when I stopped for the night. Hell, it only got worse that morning. Woke up at three in the morning. Something hit the window of the hotel I was in. Went to look out, so those same little red dots in the treeline across the road. Few minutes later, I look out again and see him. On top of my car."
Quiet settles in the truck again, nothing bu the engine hummin' as we roll down the interstate. Murim showed his face that early? Why on earth… would he do that? Just don't make sense.
"So you've known what he looke like this whole time?" I ask, plumb bewildered by what he'd just said.
"Didn't know at the time, but yeah. Tried to forget about it when the sun finally rose, but a giant murder of crows was above the road as I crossed the state line. Pretty hard to get the image of a golden bird on your car out of your head when you see something like that." Cam says, lookin' back out the window. He's fixin' to stare right through them trees. But he ain't sayin' nothin', so I reckon we're in the clear. For right now, anyway. So I just keep on rollin'. We're passin' Murray town now,so it won't be more'n twenty minutes 'til we hit Wilmington. I'm plumb tuckered out and just need to sleep. But then Cam goes and stirs up all the peace we had settled into.
"You better step on it. He's right there." He says, and I don't even have to look his way to know. I can just feel it: Murim's tucked in them trees. And he's keepin' up just fine. I'm hittin' 75 now, and he's right there with me. He's mighty quick for a fella only 5'5". Then again, he ain't human, so that's fixin' to give him an edge.
"What you reckon he's up to?" I ask Cam, keepin'my eyes peeled on the road tryin' to outrun Murim, though I'm dyin' to know what his plan is.
"Dunno. Don't give a shit. JUST STEP ON IT BO!"
I'm haulin' tail now, goin' twenty over the speed limit and somehow keepin' this old jalopy on the road. It don't take long for those eyes to be gone, but I reckon Murim was just testin' our mettle. "He's fixin' to try that again, you know that, right?" I ask Cam as I ease off the gas, coastin' 'til we're a mite under the speed limit on the interstate. Not that it matters much. I oughta be slowin' down more. We're fixin'to hit Wilmington, and the Cordelia ain't much further down the road.
"I wouldn't be surprised. But I doubt he'd do it while we're in city limits. So we can rest for a bit." Cam says as I eye the speedometer. Thirty-five. Reckon I need to slow it down to twenty-five. "I'm fixin' to trust you, but this crow's bound to throw us a curveball." I say as we pull into Wilmington proper. Just a few more turns and we'll be home. "You oughta give Senara a holler. See if she's got anything else to help us out." I say as I turn onto Ringo Drive. Ain't gonna be long none. We can finally lay us down and rest a spell.
"Yeah, good idea. I'll do that when we get back to Maddy's apartment."
|-An unknown time. The Ceramic Grove of Wheat-|
I am still nursing my injury from the other night. From when Cameron dared to assault me. Walpurga's stench has made him rather bold. So bold that he thinks he can escape my sight with others. But he did not. I maye not have seen Cameron himself, but I did catch sight of Robert. What a fool. Perhaps an even bigger fool than Cameron. It seems mentioning Darrel was enough to elicit a strong emotional response from the man. I will use that. Break Robert down until he is cooperative. Cameron will become a proxy for my Master. I will make sure of it.
I perch on one of the many stone ruins that dot the landscape of my Grove. I take stock of what is here. How much has changed. How much has remained static. A place frozen in time, yet still alive. That is what the Ceramic Grove of Wheat is. I drop down form my perch, changing my form mid air so that I may land gracefully on my feet. My wing still stings. Perhaps it will for some time. But no matter. I have dealt with worse than a potential proxy fighting his destiny. I walk into the stalks, taking note of their smell and height. How they tower above me. but this is my domain. They will bend to my will when I dictate it. And so they do. They split, giving me the perfect amount of room to walk. To admire my Grove. And that's when members of my murder arrive.
'Our master! Our Master. He had returned! Has returned!" They squawk as they land on the ground beside me.
"Yes, I have. Have you seen the celt? What is she plotting?" I ask them, wanting to know everything on Senara's whereabouts.
"She taunts us! She taunts us!" They scream as if in pain. Senara once again proves why she is such an annoyance. But no matter. I have placed my mark upon her once more. Perhaps I can do what Aziel fails to accomplish.
"I see, I see… and of her whereabouts?" I then ask, hoping to shed some light on this situation. "By the sea, Master! By the sea!" They shout in unison. By the sea? Perhaps a pier. Maybe a sandy beach where the waves lap at her feet, threatening to swallow her whole. That would certainly be a sight to behold. No matter. For now, I rest.
I continue my journey through my domain, watching as the unchanging moon looms far above the towering stalks of wheat. I do wonder how many I have brought here over the countless centuries. Thousands, I am sure of it. But how many to be exact? Four or five thousand? Perhaps closer to ten thousand? I do not know. The bones of man and beast alike dot the ground, a canvas of rotten white that sullies the golden brown of the wheat field. Such a shame, really. Not that I particularly mind. The Grove needs it's sustenance after all. And the bones of man are it's most prized treat. I stop by a particular set of remains. I remember this one fondly. Little Darrel. Oh how his screams filled the air with a raucous cacophony. How delectable it was. How savory the fear in his voice became. It's not often that I get to indulge like that. Oh how delicious Cameron's fear will taste when I finally break him.
snap
My attention is taken by the sound of a twig breaking close to me. I look in the direction from which the sound emanated, hoping to see what it was. A few seconds later, a thrall emerges from the stalks, it's body rotten and necrotic. It's head reduced to nothing but a bare skull with scrapes of flesh still attached and sunken, glazed over eyes from which it can barely see. Never has one come to be on it's own accord. I simply leave them to their own devices until I have need of them.
Someone has directed this thrall to find me. And I know who.
"What do you want this time, Aziel? What makes you think that you any right to take charge of my thralls in my own domain?" I shout, demanding that the Snake reveal herself. I hear the stalks way violently as something new approaches. It is fast and angry. Soon enough, Aziel stands before me, bisecting the thrall she had commandeered when she had entered my Grove. The pompous harlot…
"MURIM! YOU INSSSSSUFFERABLE OAF OF A CROW! HOW DARE YOU INJECT YOURSSSSSELF INTO MY QUARRELSSSSS! SSSSSENARA ISSSSS MINE AND MINE ALONE!" She says as she gazes upon me, hair bearing their fangs as she continues to approach. But I am not intimidated. Not like I once was.
"You will have her in time, Aziel. I am simply reminding you that you are not the only one that has use of her." I say as the Snake stops in her tracks. She simply stares at me, eyes wide and judging. "Not the only one who hasssss ussssse of her? And what ussssse could she possssssssssibly give you, Murim?" Aziel asks, fangs beared in anger, tongue flicking out rapidly as if trying to taste my fear in the air.
"Isn't it obvious?" I say as I shift forms, circling around Aziel as one of the many snakes that adorn her head snap at me. They certainly are angry this night, aren't they? "If I cannot see Cameron myself, I will make use of those that can. Quite the genius plan, wouldn't you admit?"
"Ssssstill trying to break that fool? The Massssster will never allow sssssuch a cretin to ssssserve him. Not when He hasssss ssssservantsssss sssssuch asssss usssss. You know thisssss, Murim." Aziel responds, her tone cold and calculating. Her demeanor… insulting.
"I have not spent the past month and a half stalking and laying in wait only for my prey to be called a 'fool' and a 'cretin', Aziel. You will see. Cameron will make a fine proxy for out Master. Now begone from my Grove. I do not wish to be disturbed nor do I want you to interfere in my mission." I retort, wanting to hear the Snake's grating voice for another second. It seems to have worked, as Aziel slips back into the stacks without another word. Good. Peace once again. I look to the ground, taking note of the now dead thrall. Not that I would allow such a thing. I shift forms once more and gesture with my wings, watching as the damage to the thrall is mended before it stands back up, shambling off into the wheat to terrorize and devour any poor soul that miraculously finds their way here. I'd take pity on them if I could. But alas, mercy and empathy are foreign concepts to me. I then look at the skeletal remains once more. Perhaps I should pay what's left of Darrel a visit. Yes… It has been some time since I last tormented that worm. One last meal.
I shift form once more, taking to the skies above the Grove in search of where I keep him. I can be quite forgetful sometimes, so it's location changes every now and then. But in this instance, I know where I must go. Deep beneath the ruined tower. That is where he resides. It doesn't take long for me to spot my objective. Once I have sight of the old stones, I shift course, feeling the wind beneath my wings change as I do so. Before too long, I have arrived, shifting form so that I may enter the structure properly. Already I can hear his pleas. How delightful… He still remembers me after all this time...
"Please… I'm beggin' ya… Just let me be… Let me pass on…" I hear from deep beneath the ground. It is not much, but it is still enough to satiate my appetite. I being marching down the tower staircase, a wide and devilish grin forming upon my features as what remains of Darrel's spirit continues to plead.
"P'lease… I'm fixin' to go… Ain't you had plumb enough?" His words grow louder and louder as I continue my descent, until finally a faint, golden light appears around the corner. Soon, the form of Darrel comes into my sight.
"Hello, Darrel." I say as I take in the sight. He has faded considerably. A testament to how filling his essence and fear is. No other prey has quite come to the flavor he possesses. But I know that after this he will nearly be gone. There will be no afterlife for Darrel. "It certainly has been a while, hasn't it?"
"Lawd… Just leave a body be…" He pleads, voice strained and weak from the various times I have fed off his essence since ending his life over fifty years ago.
"You know I cannot do that, Darrel. Besides, I have such wonderful news for you. Are you not excited to hear it?" I say, knowing that it will only further his misery. His golden form writes against the spectral chains that bind him to the wall. One of the few times outside of a contract where Aziel has dained to cooperate with me. I should really thank her for that. And that demand she teach me. But that can wait. "I have recently become properly acquainted with a certain great-nephew of yours. Does that not simply make one ecstatic and overjoyed?"
"Naw… Naw, naw, naw… You best leave him be. My kin's had plumb enough of what you done to me, you blasted crow." Darrel responds, drawing whatever strength he has left to try and intimidate me. How rude.
"Hmm… You wound me, Darrel. Is that anyway to regard in old friend? Are you not overflowing with joy to learn how Robert, descendant of your dear brother Thomas, has been faring?" I taunt him, watching as the light flickers. Evidence of his growing fear. Yes… You should be afraid, Darrel… It only makes you more delicious…
"I tell'd ya… Leave 'im be. You've done plumb enough to my kin." He retorts weakly, almost resigning himself to his grim fate. I take a step closer, watching the light flicker once more. Another step, another flicker. I then begin marching towards Darrel, taking note of how he becomes dimmer and dimmer as I make my approach. I then reach out with a wing, placing it under his chin and raising it so that he may see my face.
"You know I can't do that, Darrel. Not when poor little Robert can be useful to me. After all, I do have prey to hunt." I say, continuing to taunt Darrel, continuing to watch his light become dimmer and dimmer. "You can't be the only one I feed one forever." With two wings, I brush my hair aside, revealing a piercing gaze that causing Darrel immense pain. Or whatever the equivalent of that would be for an incorporeal being like he is. Then, his screams begin. His oh so delectable screams. Already, I can feel my stomach becoming fuller and fuller. Just as it always had whenever I decide to feast upon Darrel's essence. But I must keep moderation in mind, this time. For I do not know how much longer I can continue to feed on him. Perhaps only once more when this is over.
As soon as it began, however, my feeding ends. Darrel always proved to be quite the fulfilling meal. It will be a shame when his essence finally runs dry. I then hide my face once more before turning around, shifting form, but not before leaving Darrel with one last quip.
"Until we meet again, Darrel. I'll always keep in touch." I say as I fly away, leaving Darrel to despair over his great-nephew's fate.
"Robert… Stay… Stay safe now… Don't go makin' the same mistakes I did…"