AuthorPalt
patreon
A Gamer's Guide 235
🕑 Added 2024-01-23 15:14:00 +0000 UTCOn the way out, the barker helpfully announced that Emil was leaving early, almost causing a stir until Ursula explained that he had a stomachache and had to go home to lie down and weep for a few hours. She didn’t use those exact words, but in the ten or so seconds Emil lingered before leaving, that was what came across. With his exit socially accepted, Emil entered into the chilly autumn evening. He drew a coat from his inventory, wrapping it around him with slight difficulty as he glanced up to see the stars. From where he came, being able to see the stars in the middle of the city was next to impossible. Smog and light pollution kept them hidden away from view, like gems too precious to be stained by the human gaze.
But here, now… Emil took a deep breath of the night air. Unfortunately, the smells of the city were not quite as pleasant. The stench of rotten fish, excrement and sewage made for a particularly lethal perfume, one that Emil still hadn’t gotten used to even after living in the city of Oran for two months.
It wasn’t all that bad, though. He’d lived worse, and being able to stay at the mayor’s own mansion was more than—
<[You are being watched.]>
The message from [Knowing Friend (Lv.MAX)] reminded Emil that he didn’t leave early merely to watch the stars. Trying to keep his breathing and gait even, Emil set out.
The mansion the Judgess of Feynix resided in was the centerpiece of a small park stretched across the middle of the Feynix borough, where trees and bushes bowed themselves tentatively. Although Emil could hardly fault the skill of her gardener, the public nature of her garden and the tightness of the foliage was far from comforting at this time of night. The evening was late enough for the park to be well-lit by the cloudless sky, and yet, the shadows of the trees and statues stretched far, easily deep enough to hide anything and anyone.
Pulling the coat tighter across his shoulders, Emil hurried down a slim walkway paved with stones, a luxury many roads in the city were not afforded. He could feel the gaze, following him. Close by? Far away? He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he was being watched.
Although the autumn was far from young, the trees still clung to their leaves, yellow though they may be. With so many leaves up and above, it would be no difficulty to hide up there in the crowns. Or perhaps in the mantle of that statue. Or maybe in the bosom of the expertly shaped bush, designed to look like a dragon being beheaded. When they had arrived for the dinner party, Rat and Plus had made a big show of pretending to be dragon-slayers; Rat laughing about how he’d one day kill even a four-winged dragon, with Plus mercilessly bringing him back down to earth by simply noting how knives and arrows weren’t exactly known for stabbing deep. Rat had attacked him over that one.
Emil found himself chuckling at the memory.
<[You are being watched.]>
The chuckle soon died.
Sticking his hand in his pocket, he left the impressive bush behind. Yes, he was there for a reason. It had been two weeks now. Two weeks of being watched. Not always. Not constantly. But often enough to warrant emotions beyond suspicion.
Two weeks. The killings began two weeks ago. Was it a coincidence? He hoped so. Or maybe he didn’t. If it wasn’t a coincidence, then whoever the killer was was too bold for his own good. Going after those sick with the drake pox was one thing. Even standard goblins was one thing. But going after Emil? That was in the same category as a louse trying to take down an elephant. Nevertheless, in spite of all that, Emil couldn’t help but feel weary as he took a turn and exited into the streets.
There was exactly nobody about. This was only to be expected—the curfew was in full swing as of over an hour past. Emil was the strange one for breaking it. However, the curfew was intended for those who may be made a victim of the heart-ripper. Not Emil.
If nothing else, Emil knew very well that his person laid completely outside the heart-ripper’s pool of potential victims. He was not a goblin, he was not in the company of anyone, and he was not sick with drake pox.
However, even then, as he walked down the deserted roads, stepping around the bloated and abandoned corpses of winged drakes, he couldn’t help but feel nervous.
His hard-soled dress shoes clicked and clacked against the cobblestone road. In the windows, the shutters were all drawn, darkness abounding. Even the street lamps had been doused. The city was darker than the sky above. Only his own steps could be heard, though he knew that he was far from alone.
Eyes. A gaze like that of a predator. What did they want? If they wanted him alone, then here he was! And if that wasn’t enough… What was?
Irrationally, Emil began to feel annoyed. Here he was, presenting his shy watcher with the perfect opportunity to strike, and he was doing nothing. If it hadn’t been for the sensation of eyes following him, only pausing as he turned down an alley to follow him again soon after, Emil would have presumed his follower to be nothing more than a curious cat of some sort, or maybe a squirrel. Some little creature with neither the spine nor guts to do more than watch.
As Emil found himself walking down a particularly extended alley that curved into a dead-end, he saw his chance. With a coolness that only barely hid the fatal beating of his heart, Emil moved through the alley, one foot in front of the other, click, clack, click, clack, his footsteps echoing off the tight walls. After a few moments of entering it, he felt the gaze once more on his back, watching him as a predator surveys the unusual movements of a prey animal. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he felt some sense of confusion in the eyes that tracked him.
Luckily for Emil, the visage of his defenseless back was enough to stave off any hesitations. After less than ten seconds, the watcher followed him.
It took every inch of willpower Emil still held not to peer over his back. He knew they were behind him. They had to be. And yet, much like Orpheus, he knew that should he turn to look back, his follower would disappear. The game would be up. He couldn’t have that.
Pausing only briefly to draw in a deep breath, Emil headed into the dead-end. There, he walked down until he reached the final wall boxing him in. Turning back around, he focused his senses.
In absence of his own footsteps, now, he could hear nothing. The wind’s eternal whining dragged itself through the street. Shutters rattled and doors creaked. He could hear his own breath, moving through his chest and into the night breeze. If he listened for it, he could even hear his own heart, beating rhythmically within his ribcage. Steady. Not fast. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.
Among those sounds, the footsteps of his watcher could not be heard. It was as though he was followed by a shadow instead of a man. Or maybe it was a hallucination. Had the stress of the plague gotten to him this badly? To leap at shadows, to see eyes in bushes? The night was large and cold, but where Emil stood, it felt tight—as constraining as a straight jacket. Perhaps this was all a mistake. Perhaps—
He felt the presence turn the corner. Ahead of him, in the dark. Present. He felt the eyes on him.
He saw nothing. It was dark, but not dark enough to obscure everything. There was simply nothing. Nothing, save for the eyes. The gaze. Disembodied, eyeless, but there. Seeing. Questioning.
In a split second, Emil weighed his options. The staff was more versatile but the need for full incantations made it slower. In that case…
He raised his hand, his five rings already equipped for the occasion. All five fingers were splayed, ready.
“Whoever you are, show yourself!” Emil barked at the darkness.
Ahead of him, the gaze wavered.
Indignation reared itself in Emil’s chest. “Show yourself, you coward!” Moving his hand about, he tried in vain to affix his eye and ire on the invisible follower. Still, nothing. Realizing that his watcher might not speak English, Emil switched to the language of goblins. “Reveal yourself! If it is a fight you wish to initiate, then meet me fairly. If it is instead my life you want, then I will not give it over easily!”
Something in the gaze shifted. Had he struck a nerve?
“Well? Show yourse—”
There was something there. Where there had previously been an absence, now there was the distinct presence of something. Even under the light of the moons and stars, it still appeared like an incomplete shape, jutted and bony and not-quite-there. As Emil’s eyes settled onto it, he still felt as though it wasn’t entirely in focus. It was there, he could see it, he could even have touched it if he stepped close enough, and yet, no matter how much he told himself this, there was something about it that turned his eyes away. He had to struggle to keep his gaze from wandering.
Then, as he watched it, the shape unfurled. Bony limbs constrained by corpse-pale skin pulled too-tight bloomed from the shape like the crooked petals of a deformed lily. It rose. Even when it no longer sat squat, it still appeared to meld featurelessly with the shadows, limbs elongated only slightly beyond what they should be. Not enough to come across as cartoonish, but enough to grant Emil the singular understanding that whatever it is he was looking at was not quite real. Soon, it stood fully upright before him, awkward arms dangling from a hunched torso, spine protruding across the back of its bony ribcage, skin drawn tight around knotted joints like the hide across a funeral drum.
It felt like looking at a dream. Everything else was real aside from the creature before him.
Its head hung deeply, a low-slung neck keeping the face level with its chest. A mop of greasy, tangled hair sprawled across its face, appearing much like a bundle of dead rats hung by the tails. Within that dark set of hair, a yellow eye peeked out, as bright as that of a cat. And it looked at Emil, and then it looked away shyly, and…
Emil’s hand fell to his side. He blinked. “...Kitty?”
Across the alley, the creature was no longer a creature—it was just Kitty. Face dark with shame, Kitty averted his gaze even more, looking down the alley he came from as though he was genuinely considering running away. “...Yeah,” came his raspy, uncertain voice. “Yeah, it’s… it’s me.”
In the span of about three seconds, Emil let out the breath he’d been holding, burst into a long-overdue grin, and flew across the alley. Only a moment later, Kitty was in his arms. Among the many people Emil knew, Kitty was the least likely to initiate a hug. However, considering the way the slim man froze up, stiffened, and then melted into his arms, Emil knew that he was more than happy to reciprocate them. Emil squeezed Kitty tightly. He was okay. He was alright. A trembling breath escaped his chest.
After a moment, Kitty put his arms around Emil, too. And for a minute or so, they simply held each other. Emil couldn’t tell if he or Kitty needed it more. However… had Kitty always been so cold? Of course, he had never been warm to the touch, not when he mainly dressed in loincloths, but now… He felt almost as cold as a corpse.
But it had to end sometime. Steeling his heart, Emil dislodged himself. Kitty was looking up at him with big, moist eyes. It hurt, but if he didn’t set boundaries, they’d both suffer for it down the line.
Emil grabbed Kitty by the shoulders, squeezed hard, and said, “Why?”
Kitty blinked up at him. “Why…?”
Emil clenched his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me you were okay?”
“—Well, I…”
“I was worried sick!” Emil shouted. “It’s been two months since you sent that message! Two months! I’d love to tell you exactly how many messages I sent, asking, begging you to tell me that you were okay, or at the very least not dead, but I’m afraid I’ve lost count.” He felt disappointed and angry in equal measure, and he let both of them show on his face in a single frown. “Did you read any of them? A single one? Or did you assume that just because you weren’t dead, that I’d be happy and fine and dandy?” Emil desperately held back tears. “Are you that unwilling to accept that someone could worry about more than just your life?”
Kitty’s large eyes stared at him, his mouth slightly open. But he wasn’t looking away. Somehow, the eyes seemed deeper-set than they were the last time they met. A bitter wrinkle clung between his pronounced brows, as permanent as it was telling. “I—I…” Kitty closed his mouth, swallowing dryly. He took a deep breath, and Emil felt the tremble in his shoulders leave. When Kitty lifted his eyes to him again, they were clear. “I’m sorry. I was… I was cowardly, and inconsiderate, and…” His pupils flitted down to the ground. “And if you don’t want to forgive me, I understand completely.”
Emil froze where he stood. He blinked once, and then twice, before realizing the gravity of what he just heard.
Saying nothing, he drew Kitty back into his arms. “I forgive you. You’re forgiven. You…” A lump in his throat proved difficult to swallow. “If you come to me, and you say you’re sorry, there’s nothing you can do to me that I won’t forgive.”
“No,” Kitty said, but it was a weak defense. “No, that isn’t… But what I did, to my friends, and…” There was a strangled pause. “I don’t feel bad about it. What I did. It was just… I did it because I wanted to. Isn’t—isn’t that…?”
Something clawed at Emil’s insides and he grimaced. “It isn’t my place to judge you. It also isn’t my place to forgive you for what you did to them, and what you did to others. But… But even when there’s no one who can forgive you anymore… You should still forgive yourself.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
Slowly, stiffly, Emil distanced himself again, holding Kitty by the shoulders and affixing him with his gaze. “It is only when you stop seeking forgiveness that you become truly unforgivable.” The air between them grew heavy. The stars peered down, anxious. Emil chanced a smile, lighting the alley if only a little. “All that means, though, is that right now, as long as you stay yourself… You can always be forgiven.”
Somehow, Kitty didn’t seem too relieved by the revelation. “I… see…”
Unsure what else to say, Emil patted him on the back. “Say, how about we take the rest of this chat somewhere nice and warm where we can actually see each other’s faces?” Since Kitty made a face of sheer confusion, Emil quickly continued. “I was heading home, so you might as well come along. I’ve got good food if that’s what you want?”
“Food would be—” Drooling at the mere word, Kitty quickly wiped at his chin, only to turn to look down the alley they came from. “But I already have…” At Emil’s inquisitive gaze, Kitty soon shook his head, the internal turmoil ending by the promise of good food overpowering any hesitation. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go.”
Comments
DuskDeadman
Half a chapter of Lovecraft style horror suddenly turns into just Kitty. 10/10
Guizmo_Unicorn
Thanks for the chapter ! The fact that Mole/Emil was describing Kitty as some kind of unreal monster until recognizing him says a LOT.
Kacper Piotrowski
I love how after half of chapter Worth of build-up this elusive presence instantly changed to "just Kitty" also TFTC
