by Heath Pfaff
A hunk of meat fell away, and there was a dull thudding crack as my weapons split the skull of the Butcher but didn’t penetrate the material this creature had in place of bone. It did seem to notice my actions though. It swatted at me with one of it’s freakish, overly jointed hands, the one not holding the cleaver. It moved a bit slowly, and I dove around it’s neck, landing more blows as I tried to keep out of reach. My attacks were annoying it, allowing the others to land more of their own, but they weren’t particularly effective.
The cleaver passed within inches of me as it turned the blade on itself, trying to get me away, and I knew I couldn’t stay on its shoulder much longer. I spun the staff in my left hand to change its grip, and then drove it hard down and inward, aiming for one of the Butcher’s eyes. I hit my target and the edge of my staff weapon sunk in with a horrible, wet popping noise. I expected a scream of protest, or a recoil of pain, but instead the left hand finally grabbed me, and a moment later it was whipping me through the air far too fast. The world blurred and tumbled, and then the impact of the ground was knocking the air from my lungs as I rolled out the momentum of the throw. I hit something, probably a wall, and came to a stop with a jarring suddenness. The world was a disoriented mess as I tried to stumble back to my feet and figure out where I was.
Something hit me hard from one side, something solid and metallic, and I went rolling across the ground. It took me too long to find my feet once more, and when I did, when the ground stopped spinning beneath me, I was looking at Ori and Korva as they cut the last of the life from the Butcher. It took them several more minutes to get it all to stop moving, but they kept going until it was in pieces. They looked exhausted.
“Are you alright, Lillin?” Korva asked, breathing hard from the fight.
I nodded. “Yeah, I was stunned when I hit the ground. My head is still just a bit shaky.” My arm was also bleeding from the bite of the thing wearing the little girl, but that was slowing, my Will going to work on stopping the worst of that. It hurt, but I would recover.
“He almost got you.” Ori said.
“Yeah, if Ori hadn’t knocked you out of the way after he threw you, you’d be in two pieces right now. It was very close.” Korva said, still looking concerned.
It had been Ori that had hit me while I was still recovering from the throw, and apparently she’d saved me. “Thank you.” I told her, offering a fond smile for my friend.
She gave a shrug, as though saying it wasn’t a matter of importance, just a matter of course. “What was that thing?” Ori asked, looking back over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“This enemy seems capable of creating nightmares from familiar pieces. It takes things that exist and twists and warps them. That might have been a normal man when this started, or maybe it was something created from pure chaos. I don’t know. I don’t think any of us really know.” Korva’s tone was more than a little uneasy. There was a panicked air to it that I didn’t like to hear. This darkness did that to people. I was sure my voice would be hiding the same building panic.
“We should keep moving. I recognize this area. I can take us directly to my home from here.” I announced, deciding it was time to move forward or risk becoming too frightened to do so. The darkness worked at worming its hooks into you, and once it did so, it could be very hard to muster the courage to go on. I didn’t want that to happen to our group.
“Why couldn’t I hit it with my Will?” I asked as I started us forward. “Are there things that can’t be affected by Will?”
“Void stone, Everburn, and the Immutables.” Korva answered. “Void stones are strange black rocks that we found while excavating to build the school. There were whole caves built of them. I don’t know what they’re made of, or how they came to be, but you can’t touch them at all with the Will. Everburn is a force of Will itself. You can’t affect it no matter how hard you try, but unlike the stone it’s not that it just isn’t there, it’s just too powerful.” She stopped, and I realized she wasn’t going to go on.
“Immutables?” I asked, deciding prompting might be necessary.
“Immutables.” She said, looking a bit uneasy. She took a breath and let it out with a soft sigh. “I’ve only seen one once, and most consider them to be nonsense, more theory than something that actually exists, but they’re real. They’re always living things, people, rarely animals, and they are possessed of an innate knowledge of their own being that can not be moved or shaken.”
“Like the King.” Ori said, nodding to herself.
“No, not like the King.” Korva spoke quietly. “The King can be affected by Will. He is aware of it, and he can be moved if there was enough focus to do so. An immutable isn’t really aware of the Will the way a Will user is, they just are unflinching in their notion of self. The one I met, he couldn’t even speak. He didn’t acknowledge other people being around him. I wasn’t even sure how he was alive, but no Will user could manipulate him. Reaching out to him with the Will was impossible. He was like a boulder in a stream. Everything just went around him. It was very strange, unsettling, and fighting this thing reminded me of that, except this thing was far more aware.”
“I’ve heard wardens use the term absolute Will before. Is absolute will similar to this immutable will? Are they related? Absolute Will is supposed to be a good thing, isn’t it?” I was still somewhat confused.
“Absolute Will is a good thing, it’s something to strive for. Strengthening your Will to a point where it is unbreakable is the highest level of being a Warden, but an Immutable isn’t the same thing. They don’t have Will, but they are also untouchable by Will. It’s a contradiction, and one that I think frightens us because it means that there are those out there who are perfectly capable of fighting us. At least that is how it feels. I mean, we killed that monster back there, so it’s not as though they’re unstoppable. But there is something inherently broken in their existence as well.
“There is something inherently broken about all of this place.” Ori added. “This doesn’t even feel like the same city anymore.”
Ori’s words brought on a deep silence, one filled with troubling thoughts. The quiet contemplation of what we’d experienced fell upon us, and we walked shrouded in its clutches.
16.3
We reached my neighborhood after several hours of walking. The trip was remarkable in only that it was unremarkable. We constantly expected some new horror to stand in our path, but though the city was still clearly twisted and dark, and though evidence of recent terrible things laid heavily upon it, nothing new came to challenge us directly.
“We’re almost there.” I said quietly, just loud enough for the others to hear. “My house is down there.” I gestured with a nod to where I could see it down the road. It looked much the same as all the other buildings in the city. It had taken on a decayed look, as though no one had cared for it for years. The paint was faded, the windows cracked and broken, and as we drew nearer I could see that the door was broken off its hinges, hanging open and off to one side. A small stone path lead through the yard to that shattered doorway.
I swallowed, peering into the darkness beyond.
“Let’s go. We’ll be right behind you.” Korva said as I stopped in front of my old home. It seemed so unfamiliar now, and I wasn't certain if that was because it had been so long since I’d been there, or if it was entirely because of the twisting caused by the darkness. It was probably a little of the first, but mostly the latter.
I shook my head. “No, you and Ori stay here. If I . . . if I don’t come out in fifteen minutes you can either go on or come in after me, but I’d recommend you go on without me.” I told them. This was, I knew, a trap. The dreams had pulled me back out here and I didn't believe for a moment that this wasn’t set to destroy me.
“I’m afraid not, Lillin. We’re not letting you go in there alone. We’re your friends.” Korva’s voice was firm.
I considered trying to stop them again, but I
could feel the determination in the two of them. I nodded, helpless to turn them away, and not really wanting to if I was honest with myself. I was afraid to go on alone.
I took a deep, calming breath, though it did little to help, and then I began to walk forward. I’d been down that walkway many times before, usually with no attention paid to the way the stones set just a bit uneven, or the careful care taken by my mother who had laid out the beds of flowers to either side. They were empty now, nothing living left in the soil, but the beds themselves were still carefully placed. I remembered the mix of blue and purple flowers my mother had always grown there. They’d been really beautiful, though I had never paid much attention. I’d been a spoiled brat of a girl.
I reached the front door and peered inside. There was a small mudroom, and the door at the other end of that was closed and looked remarkably untouched. I’d taken up one half of my weapon and I forced my hand to relax on the grip as I began to move forward again. An overly tight grip was as bad as one that was too loose. I needed to be ready. I reached out to the door handle and it swung inward in at my touch. It hadn’t really been shut.
Beyond the mudroom the house was in chaos. The furniture was torn to pieces, cast to every corner. There was dried blood on every surface. My knees grew week for a moment, and I had to focus to make myself calm again.
“Mother?” I called out as I began to search the area. The bottom floor of the house was the kitchen the sitting room, and a single bedroom. I passed from room to room. There was a pot on the stove, a stench of decay coming from it, but no one else was there. The bedroom was empty, and the sitting room was as well, so I headed for the stairs up.
I stopped on the bottom stair as I looked up and found my father. Pain gripped my heart and froze my mind. The work that had been done on his body was horrifying. More of his insides were exposed than was the skin that should have covered them. Only his head and face had been left whole, his eyes stitched into open positions, staring endlessly out at the decaying world around him.
It was difficult to hold my weapon ready. It was difficult to do anything. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t force myself to. I wanted to cry, but I just wouldn't let myself give in to that need.
“Lillin . . .” My father’s voice rose up from his throat, a raspy, rattling thing that was barely recognizable. I jumped hard. I hadn’t even realized he was still alive. “Help us.” His voice grated, and I could see his exposed vocal chords working to make the sounds. “Kill us.”
There was a pleading in his voice, a desperate call for death. I was shaking my head already. “I . . . no, you’re . . . “ This was like when I’d discovered Ori being turned into a golem. The difference was this was my father, and this time no one was stopping me from acting.
“Kill . . . us!” He pleaded, and it was the “us” that disturbed me the most. He was the only one I’d found so far, but the other must have been up the stairs past him.
Screaming started from further up the stairs, a horrible wailing that I recognized as my sister’s voice, and it was joined by my brother’s not long after. Father stared down at me with his horrible, exposed eyes, and it felt like I was falling apart inside.
“Lillin, do you want me to . . . “ Ori’s voice started behind me, but I held up a hand and shook my head.
“I’m sorry.” I said, my voice cracking and breaking. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you.” I walked up the stairs and raised my weapon. I grabbed my Will and let loose with everything I had. I aimed for the mostly exposed ribcage, smashing through the chest cavity and ripping my father’s heart from his opened torso. He died instantly, his body slumping against the razor edged wire that had been used to hold him to the wall.
My siblings were still screaming above, and I wasn't sure I could go any further. I didn't know how to find the strength to see more of this. My mind was recoiling, my senses trying to fall back into me to escape this nightmare existence, and yet my feet knew what to do. I climbed the stairs numbly.
“You shouldn’t go up there.” Korva said. “Let me do it.”
I shook my head. “No, Korva, this is something that . . . I can’t just do what’s easy.” I told her firmly, and I forced myself up the stairs and closer to the screams coming from the direction I knew was my sister’s room. As I reached the door the screams had reached a terrible volume. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could scream so loudly for so long.
I reached for the door latch, clicking it down and then pushing it to swing the portal open. At first I wasn’t sure what I was seeing beyond the threshold. The room that had once been decorated with dolls and the trappings of a young woman was unrecognizable in its current form. The dolls were piled in a corner, charred as though burned, and the furniture was broken and wrecked. It was painted in shades of black and brown-red, and something was hanging from the ceiling not far from where I was.
It took me a long moment to realize it was my mother. Her hair had been tied to hooks driven into the ceiling, and below it what remained of her body hung. It was little more than an intact head attached to a spinal cord with some few limbs stripped of outer layers dangling below. The ribs had been splayed open wide, the legs of an insect from a person’s deepest nightmares, and her actual limbs had been flayed to the bone and sinew and left hanging.
The screaming came from beyond that, and my eyes fell upon that horror a moment later. I couldn’t tell where my brother ended and my sister began. They’d been opened up and put back together as one person. I wasn’t sure how they lived, how anything so horrible could go on existing. Their flesh was black and rotting at the seems, knotted together so that they couldn’t really move, certainly not without their legs, and certainly not with the monstrosity of an arm that was all four of theirs opened and stitched together into something that resembled a tree trunk of human flesh.
I faltered, collapsing to my knees, and gasped for breath, which only served to fill my lungs with the stench of rot. My stomach turned as Ori entered the room.
“Oh, by the Blackened . . .” Her voice shook in the armor. “Korva, get her out of here. Take her out now.”
Korva’s hands grabbed me and then I was being dragged away as I watched Ori draw her sword. She was going to kill them. She was going to kill my brother and sister. All I could think was how relieved I was that it wouldn't be me. Tears streamed down my face as Korva forced me down the stairs, past what remained of my father.
“Lillin, hey, look at me.” She said as we reached the street. She grabbed my face and made me look at her, but my head was still in the house as the screaming abruptly stopped inside. They were dead. Good. They were dead. How long had they been like that? I’d been such a terrible sister to them. They’d never get to experience life, and their end had been a vicious, lasting nightmare. How long had they endured that existence?
“Lillin!” Korva’s voice again, and she squeezed my jaw where she was holding my face. “You couldn’t have done anything to stop this.”
“It’s my fault.” The words dragged up the back of my throat. “I let Arthos bring the bag back here. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t stop him.”
“You don’t know those things are related.” She said firmly. “And even if they are related, you couldn’t have stopped Arthos from doing what he wanted. He is much stronger than you are, and it was his call. He was in charge.”
I could have fought harder. I should have fought harder. This would forever sit on my shoulders. I knew that, and that thought crippled me. It struck at my mind like a hammer until it shattered, and I couldn't gather the pieces together anymore.
“It’s done. We should go.” Ori’s voice was floating in the background of my blank existence. “I brought her weapon with me. She dropped it.”
My hand was empty. I didn't remember letting go.
“Is she alright?” Ori asked, and then more directly. “Lillin, are you alright?”
“She’s not.” Korva answered. “Coming here was a mistake.”
�
��We all knew that before we came.” Ori answered. “Even she knew it was a trap.”
I pushed their voices away. I couldn’t stand to listen to them just then. I shut off my hearing and closed myself in, huddling into the corner of my mind. It was dark and silent inside. It was the only place I could go to truly escape. I needed there to be nothing for a while.
Inside me was a void, and in that void was a comfortable silence. I could hear nothing but the the steady beat of my own heart. Things beyond the void had to be fake. Nothing that I’d seen could be real. I refused to accept those truths. I could still save my family. I just needed time. I had to find the time. We would go faster. We’d make it before . . . before any of those things I’d imagined could come to pass.
This became a droning repetition in my head. We could fix things. We could fix things. What use was all of the power the Wardens possessed if we couldn’t undo such terrible things? Then it became clear to me. This wasn't real. It was another illusion brought on by the nightmare inducing darkness. I’d had these visions in my sleep for ages, and they always seemed real. I was succumbing to yet another of them. I was falling into the real trap this place sought to use against us.