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Chapter 62: Haunted.
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 13:23:58 +0000 UTCChapter 62: Haunted.
I stammered through a few lines. Not quite managing complete sentences.
At the same time, questions were flowing into my mind. Rather pertinent things like:
‘Why would you want to die?’
‘Why would you ask me of all people to let you die?’
‘Aren’t you already dead?’
‘What’s a dead person doing here?’
‘Are you real?’
‘Is this some vision of the future?’
‘Are you actually Seeker messing with me?’
‘Are you an Intruder taking Randall’s shape?’
‘Are you a stress-induced hallucination?’
‘Are you a more concrete apparition?’
‘Is this what I get for making fun of Charlie?’
All of these would have been valid questions by themselves. I asked none of them. Opting instead for one that was more, personally disquieting.
“Why are you so afraid?”
Randall turned to me. Eyes filled with primordial terror. Eclipsing whatever reactions Charlie had given earlier in the week.
“Don’t bother with him.” A voice filled with static interjected.
I turned my head and saw him again. Organs suspended in ooze. Encased within a metallic sarcophagus and moving through the usage of many steel appendages placed underneath. Like a cockroach that was imitating human posture.
“Anything he gets is well-deserved. In fact, I would go so far as to argue this is one of the fairer fates Randall could encounter.”
I blinked once, rubbed my eyes and stared some more before speaking.
“I thought you were gone. Since, you know, your future won’t come to pass.”
“I was and it won’t.” He replied. The speaker making it so that his words were free from any emotions normal humans might express during dialogue.
Despite this, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was rather pleased with himself.
“I guess that means I’m seeing you with [Insight]. Which means the ability lets me see alternate versions of me that are impossible.”
“I was possible. Once. That would have been enough. Good thing too. I have so much more to teach.”
“You don’t seem too bothered by the fact your future won’t come to pass. Funny that. Being happy about not existing.”
It made a series of electrical sputters. Scrambled bursts of static that might have been laughter.
“You have no idea what was in store for you. You have no idea what I experienced. If I still had knees, I’d be down on them. Thanking whatever power allowed me to warn you. That future was filled with nothing but misery and suffering. A never-ending series of atrocities committed solely to draw out what remained of my life. Hoping against hope to get my body back. To feel again.”
He sputtered some more.
“What this wretch is experiencing right now is the purest milk of human kindness by comparison. Do not allow yourself to pity him.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Have you been, torturing Randall’s ghost?”
More sputters.
“Why would I do such a thing? Especially when I’m not here at all. Use your [Insight] again. Tell me whether or not I am really here.”
I did. Confirming that he wasn’t.
“So, you’re haunting me?”
“No. At least, not on purpose. Your powers call me from time to time, but we’ve been missing each other for the most part.”
“You’re suggesting we’ve met before. Once more, after you put Drake inside my head. But I don’t recall such a meeting ever taking place.”
The sputters redoubled in intensity. This coffin acting as if it was roaring with laughter.
“I guess you wouldn’t. Fair enough. In that case, allow me to inform you of what is currently happening. Use your [Insight] on Randall.”
Name:
Randall Haraway
Psy:
143, 820 / 143, 820
Type:
Projector III Level 132
Abilities:
[Randall’s Radiant Mantle X] 21 / [Randall’s Enduring Gluttony VII] 20 / [Randall’s Golden World V] 20 / [Randall’s Vengeful Disintegration V] 14 / [Portal Network III] 14 / [Gravity Well II] 9 / [Frost Bubble] 5 / [Frost Wall] 4
Ability Points:
3
My eyes went wide.
“He’s alive! And, holy (Gnome). He’s been working out. But how come…”
I shut my trap. Putting two and two together.
“The others must have done this to him. Somehow. Anezka too, I’m guessing.” I started pacing. Implications running through my head.
“Question is, why? No, actually, forget about that. They’d have every reason to kill Randall and Anezka. I was the only one that wanted to give them a chance. The real questions are how they made him like this and why is he here.”
I turned to sarcophagus Solomon once more. Directly facing the transparent screen and the organs packed behind it.
“What have they done to Randall and how did they do it?”
The other me sputtered some more.
“They had, a bit of help. From an old acquaintance of ours. An old friend that hasn’t been able to fully re-surface due to an, incomplete ability. Down here in the Labyrinth.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all. Also, what do you mean, incomplete abilities? I’m merging more and more by the week. Sometimes by the day.”
The sarcophagus made to leave. Facing away from me and only addressing me once he was a fair way off.
“Yes, but you’re still not as powerful as you once were. As powerful as we once were. Getting to Tier 4 has started undoing more of the bindings, yet you have some ways left to go.”
My mouth dropped. My eyes going over the new status once more.
‘You’re telling me I was stronger than this? When I was six?’ Now there was a somber thought. Good thing I was a good kid or that could have ended badly.
I was still reading through my status when I noticed the metal frame dissipating into empty air.
“Wait! You still haven’t told me who did this to Randall!”
“You will see. Soon enough. Congratulations on evading my fate. Old me. You’ve lifted a heavy weight off both our shoulder. Maybe even saved the human race. Bye for now.”
I made to reach him and grasped nothing. The hedges were as green and lustrous as they’d always been and the sky was still a beautiful blue.
The only sounds that could be heard over the placid silence were my own breathing, and Randall’s echoing sobs.
“Right. I guess I have a penchant for being dramatic in the future. Something to look forward to.”
I turned back to Randall and looked down on him from a standing position.
“Hey man.”
He sobbed.
“Look. I’m… I’m sorry. About that and whatever is going on. I never meant to hurt anyone. Even though you do kind of deserve it. Sorry, that was inappropriate. The point is that whatever’s happening to you doesn’t need to keep going. We can call it off right now and start anew. You could still redeem yourself. You could still be a hero.”
Randall’s shaking redoubled. Now seeming as if he was trying to vibrate his way out of this reality. Incomprehensible babbling escaping from his lips. All of it sounding as if he was pleading with someone. With some thing.
“Please let me die.” He repeated. His face downcast and repentant.
“No. I’m not trying to kill you, Randall. I…I don’t even know how you got here in the first place. I’m trying to figure it out and I’m trying to do right by you. Now, do you want to make up and be friends?”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he planted his face deeper into his knees and shook his head from side to side.
I tried focusing on my fog. Trying to peer into his mind, with no success. There was a wall there as impenetrable as the one my other friends had placed on themselves.
‘I’m going to need to have a conversation with them after this. Whatever’s going on, I deserve to know.’
“Okay. If you don’t want to be friends right now, we can leave it for later. I… get that you’re not in the best place right now. In that case, there’s another matter to discuss. I’ll ask you, slowly.”
I leaned in to make sure he heard me.
“Who did this to you?”
“He’s…” He sniffled. Some bits of dangling snot falling past his mouth to stain his shirt as tears continued leaking from his eyes.
“He’s here. He’s coming for me.” He cringed and sobbed again. His voice breaking in between words.
“He won’t let me go. He’ll never let me go. This is a trick. He’s going to hurt me again. He’s going to come back and take me away.”
“Who won’t let you go?” I asked, coming closer. “Where is he going to take you?”
Randall drew his arms and legs closer to his torso. As if doing so would make him less visible. I noted, with some surprise, that he had both arms now. The limb that Dusty and Slab ripped off having somehow returned in this mental landscape.
His eyes darted to one side, then the next. Not stopping for a second as he tried to keep the entirety of the mansion’s opulent garden within his field of vision. He babbled something fierce and I started noticing new details on his form.
There were lacerations around his eyes. Half-healed, linear scars that went from the corners of his sockets and up towards his forehead. They were mostly invisible, resembling the aftermath of a botched surgery that had been called off mid-way.
The faint lines converged as they went up and around his skull. Gathering around the center of his brow and twisted so that they came together into the shape of an open eye.
Oddly enough, Randall seemed to be… crying. From that eye as well as the other two.
Then, there were the bruises. Blackened sections of skin formed around his wrists and ankles. Suggesting that he had been shackled to some kind of medieval torture device. He wore the same marks around his throat. Meaning someone or something had choked him. Hard.
His clothes had been reduced to soiled ribbons, yet there were clues on them as well.
There were no signs of any section being burned. In contrast to the seared parts of Randall’s skin that were visible underneath them.
I grabbed a corner of his shirt and, when he showed no signs of protest, pulled on it.
That revealed patterns within the madness. Pictures drawn from branding burns.
A sun. Being squeezed by an angel. One with tattered wings and two heads.
Both the sun and the angel had mouths. The sun’s mouth was open in a scream. The angel’s mouth looked as if it was about to bite down.
Below that, near his stomach, were strings of words tattooed in a vertical fashion. So that I had to turn my head to read them.
I felt a shiver running down my spine. An all too familiar tingle of recognition that was nonetheless blocked by some section of my psyche.
“Randall.” I repeated. Grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at me.
“Who hurt you?”
He finally looked at me. Really looked at me. His weeping redoubled. His voice barely audible as he struggled to make any sound at all.
“The tall man.” Me managed after a few more seconds. “Behind you.”
I turned around so fast that I almost fell backwards on top of him. My heart was thundering inside my chest. Threatening to burst out through my ribcage and make good on its own escape. My stomach had turned. My intestines wrapping themselves around each other so tightly that I feared they might explode as well.
I was sweating. All my pores releasing whatever moisture I had within me as my blood boiled inside my veins.
My eyes were frantically scanning the garden for anything out of place. Any indication that he had been here.
But there was nothing.
The sky was blue and the sun was yellow. Birds sang in the distance and flowers smelled of sweetness and innocence.
My ears were ringing by that point. Time becoming muddled as seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours.
I gasped. And then kept on wheezing. Forcing air into my lungs.
‘Wait a second. This is insane. The tall man isn’t real. He was never real. I, I suppressed those memories. I did it. I killed the crabs. I saved my family. I saved Henry. Why should I be afraid?’
I turned to Randall. Outraged at his deception.
Only to find him cowering even more fiercely than before.
And there, some ways off. Sitting in a bench facing the gazebo, was the figure I had dreaded throughout my entire life.
He.
It.
Had a white suit on. Pristine in the sunlight.
The perfection of his attire was marred by the blackened blood staining his hands, as well as the complete lack of footwear. Instead, his bare feet touched the ground. Releasing pools of smoking tar that stank of sulfur and month-old refuse.
He had wings here, unlike in my visions. Pale, thin bones branched out from his back. Holding on to pathetic, nearly non-existent strips of raw-red muscle that had been picked clean. Making it seem as though he’d once had a resplendent pair of wings that were now in a sad state. Like those of a chicken or a turkey that had been thoroughly plucked. The few feathers he still had were either white and bedraggled. Or pitch black.
His face was mostly featureless. Devoid of a mouth, nose, ears and hair. Though, he still had eyes. Two where normal eyes should be and one atop his brow. Their color being a cool blue, almost to the point of being grey. Like chips of dirty ice.
Identical to my own.
Only the bottom two were open. All three were crying blood.
I blinked. Feeling like a gazelle that had found itself surrounded by lionesses. Or a kid who found himself surrounded by knife-wielding clowns.
There was a pervasive silence around the premises now. As all the birds vanished into the ether. No sounds colored the air, save for Randall’s continued sobbing and my own quaking heart.
Then, a ringing started up within my ears. Stretching on and on and on.
Until the Tall Man, stood. As it did so, the space around him warped like films of ice under a blowtorch. Whole parts of the floor and gazebo imploding soundlessly into themselves. Thereby shrinking the distance between it and us.
I recalled that [Insight] could tell illusions from reality. That it could tell me whether something was real or not.
I used it. Seeing twenty seconds into the future.
And finding that, out of everything here. It and Randall were only real things around.
Level Gained: +1000 Maximum Psy. +17 Ability Points.
Ability Evolving: [Hide] 5 has grown to [Hide] 7
Ability Evolving: [Faint Presence] 3 has grown to [Faint Presence] 4
Abilities Converging:
[Hide] 7 Has been undone. 28 Ability Points Gained.
[Muffle] 3 Has been undone. 6 Ability Points Gained.
[Hidden Danger] 4 Has been undone. 10 Ability Points Gained.
[Stealth III] 1 has been formed. 1 Ability point consumed.
43 Ability Points Remaining.
[Stealth III]
Standard Combination of [Hide] / [Muffle] / [Hidden Danger]
Grants the User the ability to remove themselves from the senses of targets within the range of [Sense Thoughts] or derivatives.
User becomes better able to remove themselves and their own traces from perception at a rate of +35% per current ability level and at a cost of 30 Psy per second.
User becomes able to remove allies within line of sight from the senses of targets within the range of [Sense Thoughts] or derivatives at a rate of +15% per current ability level and at a cost of 60 Psy per second.
User becomes able to maintain these effects while performing aggressive physical actions at an additional cost of +20 Psy per second.
The potency of all these effects increases by 250% every five levels. The cost of maintaining these effects decrease by -30% per every five levels.
These effects can be overcharged with Psy through this ability.
Level Gained: +1000 Maximum Psy. +17 Ability Points.
I put all of my new 62 points into [Stealth III] without hesitation. Bringing it to level 10 and leaving me with 8 points remaining. I used five of those to bring [Faint Presence] to level 5 for good measure and hightailed it out of there while I still could.
Giving no further thought to reason. Spamming [Suppression] and every single one of my hums at the same time. Putting out waves upon waves of [Delirium III], [Warp the Veil II] and [Psionic Conjuration III] all at once. Throwing charged blasts of [Delusion] and [Total Organ Failure III] behind me.
The only notion that passed through my mind was that I didn’t need to outrun some specter of my past.
I just needed to outrun Randall.
‘(Gnome) this and (Gnome) Randall. I didn’t even like him anyways. Good (Gnome)ing riddance. And good riddance to Drake too. That piece of (Gnome). He and that thing are more than welcome to keep each other company from now on. Serves him right for roaching out the second things looked bad.’
Speaking of which, there he (Gnome)ing was. Lounging at the edge of another fountain as if nothing were wrong.
Good.
I didn’t tell him (Gnome). Sprinting right past him and into hedge maze.
“Where are you going!?” He called out from behind. “I still haven’t congratulated you on reaching Tier 4! That’s a major accomplishment you know!? I thought we were going to do something speci… WHAT THE (NOBLE) IS THAT!!!!!!???”
I ignored him. Making my way deeper into the shrubbery.
Yeah, it wasn’t the most solid plan out there, but (Gnome) it. Sure as (Gnome) beats staying out in the open or locking myself in the mansion and waiting for it to chase me.
I turned corner after corner. Feeling pretty good about my speed and how far I’d gotten in such a short amount of time.
Until a shrieking bat thing crashed into a wall of nothingness above me and dropped to the floor. It was a squirming, misshapen mass of flesh and sinew. Missing half a wing and three other limbs if the stumps were any indication. He wasted no time in reforming itself into a centaur-like creature with an equine lower half and a feline passing upper half. Curiously enough, it was still missing an arm and a fair number of chunks from its new legs. Stranger still, Drake wasn’t regenerating. Quite unnerving, given that he was supposed to be a Shifter with all of his abilities at Tier 10.
Then he was running too. Galloping down the narrow walkways of the hedge maze.
“You (Noble)ing piece of (Noble)! You tried to kill me!?”
“No. I just left you. Big difference.” I shouted back. Already several steps away.
It caught up with surprising alacrity. Almost passing me within the span of a second.
“Go back and stop it you fool! Before it rips me and your chances of getting Shifter apart!”
I didn’t dignify that with a response.
The Seeking Drake might have been an oh-so-impressive Savant and a horror older than human history, but he was smoking the best (Gnome) in the whole multiverse if he thought there was a chance of me slowing down.
“Stop! Stop it! Stop and listen you imbecile!” The Drake screamed right next to my ear. “That thing’s a Veiled Prince!”
“Nice! Good for you! Why don’t you go back and tell it that!?”
“I can’t! Because it’ll try to kill me again! I could have done away with it if this were real; but its not and I’m not the real Seeking Drake! I’m a set of memories your (Noble)ing future self carved out for you to merge with and I will be very (Noble)ing dead if you don’t stop to fix this!”
I would have laughed. If I wasn’t so mortified.
“And you think I care!? (Gnome) you! You two can go right ahead and…”
There was a rumble coming from above. Droplets raining down from the sky. Squelching as they impacted against the soil. They stained the walls of the hedge maze as they fell. The green leaves turning red with every new droplet that fell.
There was a wet thud right around the corner and we sound found an obstacle in our path.
I stopped then, but only because there was a wriggling… thing… in front of us.
It had fallen from the sky and was bathed in fresh rivers of gore. A half-porcine, half human face stared up at us from the ground. Three blind, milky-white eyes trying to find light wherever they could. Its body was small, but with the proportions of a child, instead of those of a gnome.
“I… control.” It chortled. Managing to speak in between wracking coughs. “I control.”
Its mangled voice was barely audible. Over the din of raining blood.
I blocked the thing from my mind and bent my legs in preparation for a long jump. Only to stop when Drake grabbed my arm. Squeezing tight with what few fingers he had left.
“Stop! I told you, to stop! That thing will only listen to you! You have to stop it!”
My head swivelled so fast that I could have sworn most of my hairs fell out. My eyes threatening to escape the confines of my skull and go live somewhere else for a change. Preferably someplace where fresh blood didn’t rain from the sky.
I stared at him. At this malignant presence trapped inside my mind. At this soaked body that had been dyed crimson alongside everything else. At this fearful expression he had donned for the first time since I’d known him.
“Why would you, how? How did you arrive at this conclusion!? Are you brain dead!? Did you hit your head too hard!?”
“No. I mean, yes. It did hit my head. That’s not the point! You have to stop that thing!”
“And I’m telling you I can’t! You baggy old fart!”
“Yes you can dumb(Noble)! That thing is yours! Veiled Princes aren’t like regular Intruders. They are spawned inside the material worlds! They’re Avatars! Psychic minds projected unto the material and immaterial realms at the same time! They, they’re not. It. It is not separate from you. It is you. And it can be separate at the same time. This one. (Noble)! You probably created it when you were young. It feels right at home here. Like it’s been possessing you for ages.”
The Drake turned his face towards me.
“When was the first time you saw it?”
“I, when I. Killed the crabs. I was, six?”
“Six!?” He blinked. His many eyes staring bloody murder into me. “You stupid bastard! You’re telling me you’ve been (Noble)ing possessed by a spirit you birthed since you were six decades old!? And you only thought to mention this now!?”
“I… what? Six decades? I’m 22 years old! I meant since I was six years old!”
The Drake’s face scrunched up.
