Occulturation #18: It's A Monster!

Dylishan hour of Ghost quintuple (4th hour of 4th 5-hour period)

Ghost-Incorporeal-Restcha (4th day, 4th week, 3rd month)

Ystra can barely only barely see the road lit by the dim porch lights and street lamps. She is already saddle sore from riding Lauren at full gallop for what feels to her to have been hours, though is in reality only a few minutes. She can’t see the monster behind her, but that’s not reassuring in this darkness. However, she also can’t hear it, which is encouraging. The monster had the terrible growl of metal-against-metal and the concussive boom of the hook launching from its arm and the terrible impact it made as it crashed into metal or stone structures, and faint whirring of an engine as the creature zips towards to where its hook landed. If she can’t hear that anymore, then it means the monster is probably not close enough to be heard, in other words, it’s far back. But Ystra worries that the creature still knows where she is. It tracked her to her home, after all. She doesn’t know why it’s following her, but she fears that it specifically wants her.

“If we keep going this way, we’ll eventually run out of road and leave the city.” Lauren warns Ystra. Ystra considers this. Is there anywhere I can go where it won’t find me? “Let’s stop.” Ystra says, “I need to call for help.”

“Do you even know anyone?” Lauren asks. Ystra ignores her and pulls out her phone. She could call the A.S.S.F., but she isn’t sure she wants to meet with them. They might realize that she’s a witch. The police would just defer a monster problem to the A.S.S.F., so they won’t help either. She knows a few witches, but none of them have any protections against a monster like this. None of them can fight, nor can their Screamers. There is one that can fight. Ystra remembers. She checks her contacts and dials up the number.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of a man asks from the other end, “Who is this?”

“It’s me, Ystra. I’m being chased by a monster and I need your help!” Ystra says, “Where are you? I need you to meet up with me and-”

“Nice try. I’m not falling for that.” The man says back, “Do you think I don’t know that the A.S.S.F. are listening in? They’re going to have to try better than that.” The phone hangs up.

Lauren growls. “Was that who I think it was?” Lauren asks, irritated, “Did you really think a False Bargainer, let alone, a murderer, would help you?”

Ystra sighs sadly. “He was the only one I could think of other than the A.S.S.F. that would have any idea on what to do.” Ystra says, disappointed, “But it doesn’t matter anyway. He left for Daisy’s two days ago. He’s probably too far away to help anyway.”

“Well, actual-” Lauren starts to say before cutting herself off. Ystra is curious. “What were you gonna say?” Ystra asks. Lauren groans. “I’m not gonna say.” Lauren says, “I don’t want him to help.”

“Really? If you have a way to reach him, you should let me know.” Ystra says, “Or are you really so prideful that you’d rather be killed by that monster than ask a murderous False Bargainer for help?”

“Ugh, fine!” Lauren says, “He left on-foot, so we could easily catch him.”

“What?” Ystra asks, “He left two days ago, even walking, he would be further than we could reach, anywhere Feyward from here.”

“You overestimate how far you can walk on foot.” Lauren says, “Especially when lugging a little child along with you.”

“They’d still be impossible to find.” Ystra says, “They’re not following a road or river, they’re just using a compass to walk Feyward.”

“We don’t need to.” Lauren says with a savage smile in her voice, “There are others that can help us find them. Screamers. Witches. We just need a means to pay them.”

“I still don’t know how to gather any sort of money when Hope-Bringer work collects a soul as a necessity to physically allow the Incorporeal to help.” Ystra says, “The way that works, every soul we gain, we immediately use.”

“There is another method, Ystra.” Lauren says with an darkness in her voice that gives Ystra chills. Ystra crosses her arms across her chest. “No, Lauren!” Ystra says, “We’re not killing anyone!”

Lauren laughs. “Murder is the first thing you thought of?” Lauren asks, “Wow. You’ve got some violence in you.”

“What? No.” Ystra says, “What else could you be suggesting? I know you would never use Bargaining.”

“Indeed, Bargaining is an anathema.” Lauren says, “But before Hope-Bringers, witches that worked with Incop-” The crash of metal striking pavement startles them and Lauren immediately begins to gallop away, nearly throwing Ystra off. The monster has caught up again. But luckily, Lauren is faster. The terrifying crack of a hook impacting the residential home to their side indicates that the monster is worryingly close.

“Well, this will work too.” Lauren says while leaping out of the way of tranquilizer darts. “I was thinking of a different method, but a new opportunity opens up because of this monster on our tail.”

Ystra is confused and can’t understand what Lauren is talking about. But unlike Lauren, who doesn’t need to breathe and can speak easily while fully exerting herself, Ystra is too busy straining to hold on tight so she doesn't fall off. She can’t speak right now. Lauren continues to gallop forwards as they reach a T-section. Ystra can’t even call out in alarm but merely brace herself. An explosion of twisting screams and haunted faces, gaunt, white, mouths open to scream with jaws unhinged far downwards, the opaque blackness of their throats. Amidst this chaos of screaming faces, Lauren swiftly turns to the right down the T-section. Ystra barely keeps herself from flying off. Behind her, she can hear the galloping of a horse. She looks behind her and can see Lauren riding away with herself on its back, turned to stare back at her. It’s like I’m looking in a mirror.

The monster chases after the one that went left, the one that’s just an illusion. Ystra doesn’t know how long it will take for the monster to realize that it’s just an illusion. She can’t imagine that Lauren would be able to do anything other than mirror their own movements. The moment it runs into a building, it’s going to be obvious that it’s fake. A hook crashes into the pavement beside Ystra and Lauren. Already? How did it know? Ystra doesn’t have time to look back and check. The monster zips to where they were just a few moments ago. Lauren takes another right down a sidestreet. Ystra notices that they are no longer going towards the edge of the city but are instead going inwards to the center.

Ystra hopes they don’t go too far downtown. She doesn’t want the A.S.S.F. to find her riding a supernaturally swift horse being chased by a metallic monster. Ystra wonders how many hundreds of miles per hour they are traveling at right now. One of these days, she should time Lauren’s speed on a 1 mile track. Dodging around moving cars, and jumping over intersections, the vehicles on the road seem motionless. Ystra knows that those cars are probably moving since they’re lights are on, but it’s really hard to tell. The deep low growl of metal punching through cement behind them. Ystra considers just how Lauren could be traveling at such insane speeds. But they are successfully outrunning the monster.

“So here’s what I’m thinking.” Lauren says, voice barely audible to Ystra over the rushing over air over Ystra’s ears and the darkness creeping at the sides of Ystra’s vision, “We go to a neighborhood where we performed our charity work, helping people without asking anything in return and only finding a few services that we could only perform with the power of a soul. We go there, and since there is a monster chasing after us, we convince them that there is a Screamer coming after them that will kill them if they don’t give up their souls.”

Ystra can’t speak, but she really hates that idea. It would be lying. The monster after them is not a Screamer. Those people are not in danger and giving Ystra their souls would only benefit Ystra. “No? You don’t like that idea?” Lauren asks, “That’s fine. I suppose we could just ask them to give us souls out of the kindness of their hearts.”

Ystra is doubtful that anybody would just give up their soul so easily. You have to be truly desperate to be willing to give up such a great resource or the service or product must be truly wondrous to be worth the price of a soul. “Don’t worry, this will work. They kind of owe us, don’t they?” Lauren says, “We’ve helped them so much, asking nothing in return. It would be pretty callous of them if they refused to help us when we are on the edge of death with a monster in pursuit.”

Ystra finds that the concussive shockwaves of repeated cannonfire launching a grappling hook are growing faint. Or maybe that’s just me who is growing faint. Ystra straps one of the numerous leather belts wrapped around her to close around Lauren’s neck to help ensure that she doesn’t fall off if she loses consciousness.

“Wake up, Ystra!” Lauren shouts. Ystra jumps and nearly falls off, held on by the belt strapping her to Lauren’s neck. She looks around, they’re not moving, and she can only barely hear the concussive blasts from the other side of town. She undoes the make-shift seatbelt and dismounts the Incorporeal horse. “Are we there?” Ystra asks, looking around. She didn’t need to ask. There are people just outside their doors, standing silhouette against their porch lights.

“We got less than 5 minutes, Ystra!” Lauren says urgently, “I’ve given them nightmares, my memories of the monster chasing after us. But I don’t think they believe it’s real.” Ystra stumbles towards the nearest house. The person in the door steps forward to keep her from falling as the world seems to spin in her eyes. “Your Screamer says that a monster is after you and that you need souls to fuel your escape.” The man says, though Ystra can barely comprehend the words, “Ystra, you know we’d like to help you in any way we can, but to give you our souls, that’s asking a bit much. What’s going on?”

Ystra mumbles incoherently. She hears some footsteps approach, then she is shocked to alertness as her head is drenched in cold water. Someone is holding a now empty bucket. “Ystra, what’s going on?” A woman asks, “We’d like to help, but we’d like to go off of more than the Incorporeal’s word alone.

Ystra stands up and her mind becomes clear as the motion sickness wears off. “Lauren is telling the truth. I don’t want to ask for your souls when I can’t give you anything in return, but I fear I don’t have a choice.” Ystra says, “I don’t know what the creature is, but it’s been following us all over the city. We can’t lose it for long. We need to leave the city, and we need some souls to fuel our long journey.”

“Screamers only need 1 soul per month.” Another man says in the darkness, “At most, you’d need just 1 soul, right?” Ystra admits to herself that she feels incredibly guilty asking for more than 1 soul per month, but she needs souls to pay for services from other witches to help her find Garesh, who she hopes can help her with her monster problem. She hopes that the monster wouldn’t follow her outside of the city, but that doesn’t make sense. A creature like this has no reason to be restricted to the city. “We’d need at least 4 souls.” Lauren says, “One to speed my escape, so the monster can’t catch up. The second soul to sustain me for a month. The third soul to pay a witch to scry for us, so we can get the help we need. And the fourth soul will be to pay that help we scryed to find, so that they can protect us from the monster.”

Ystra can’t really see in the darkness despite the porchlights, streetlamps, and phones shining in the night. But she gets the distinct impression that the people are looking to Ystra for confirmation that Lauren is telling the truth. Ystra doesn’t really know if Lauren’s estimate is accurate. It’s hard to believe. 4 souls. That’s 80% of a year’s supply. But Lauren’s logic seems to hold up. Ystra can only assume that Lauren consumed a soul to gallop at such speeds that Ystra blacked out and the monster was left in the dust. If they are going to outrun the monster, they’re going to need another soul for that purpose. And if she already consumed the soul that was sustaining her, Lauren needs a soul to fuel her for the month. And while she would hope that the witches would help her for free because of her danger, she knows that most witches are Bargainers, they only help in the expectation of payment.

“Yes, we do need at least 4 souls if we are going to get out of here alive and obtain protection from this monster.” Ystra says, though it pains her to ask for so much. There is silence for a time, but finally, a man speaks up. “Well, you did help me when I locked myself out of my car.” He says, “I guess I sort of owe you after that.”

“No, no, you don’t owe me anything!” Ystra says, “I don’t work for favors or-”

“Ystra! You just begged them for a soul, so that you won’t die.” Lauren snaps, “Are we really going to die because you refuse to accept souls free of charge?”

Ystra cringes. She’s right. Even if I don’t deserve these souls, even if they are sacrificing so much to help me, I have to be humble enough to accept these handouts. “You’re right. I don’t owe you.” The man says, “But I stand idly by and when I could save your life.”

Ystra bites her lip to keep herself from saying anything. She takes a bead bracelet out of her pocket. The beads are charred black, drained of color and soul. The man puts his hand on the bracelet and one of the beads returns to its normal brown wooden hue. The Incorporeal sigil clearly etched into the wood.

“And you helped me with my termite problem.” A woman says from behind, “I’ll be happy to give you my soul.” Ystra reaches forth her hand so the woman can touch her bracelet. The concussive booms of the monster are approaching louder and louder. “It’s on our trail! “Lauren says, “Ystra, we have to hurry!” Another bead blooms to color, a green bead like the leaves from a tree.

“Is-is there any one else who wants to give me their-their soul?” Ystra asks, struggling to choke out the words. Ystra hears some more footsteps and another man speaks, “I’ll give you mine since you helped me fend off that would-be robber.” Ystra doesn’t recall having ever done anything of the sort. “But-” Ystra begins to protest before Lauren cuts her off. “Ystra, swallow your pride.” Lauren says. Ystra doesn’t want to take a soul from someone under false pretenses, but she doesn’t have time to be picky. She stretches forth her hand and another bead fills with dark red at the touch of the man.

The grinding metal screams from the monster echo in the distance. And Ystra can hear the impact of metal against pavement. It’s close! We have to go! “Ystra, how many do you have?” Lauren asks, “We have to leave!”

“I’ve only got 3.” Ystra says, “I still need one more!” Ystra looks around frantically into the faces of those around her as she walks towards Lauren and jumps unsuccessfully into the saddle, still weak and dizzy, she can’t gain enough air to mount the steed. “Just one more.” Lauren says, “Is there anyone else willing to give up their soul to save Ystra?”

A little boy walks up. Please, no. Not a child. Ystra can’t bring herself to accept a soul from a child. Such a young person doesn’t understand what they’re giving up. “I… I can’t… a child.” Ystra stammers, “Please, anyone else… I need… but not a child.”

“Here, I’ll give you mine instead.” A teenage girl says, probably the boy’s older sister. Ystra still thinks that girl is too young to give away such a precious resource, but the monster is almost within sight. If it was daylight, she might actually be able to see it. She stretches forth her hand as the teenage girl touches her bracelet. But no more beads fill with color. She’s not really willing. She just doesn’t want the boy to give his soul. The teenage girl sighs in relief when the bead doesn’t fill. “I’m so sorry, Ystra.” The girl says. Boom. Ystra twists  around to see the monster hurtling down the street towards them.

Ystra tries to jump up into the saddle but fails again. The people around her boost her up to get her on the Incorporeal horse. Ystra straps improvised seat belt around Lauren’s neck again. “Wait, you still need 1 more.” A man says, “You can have mine.”

“No time!” Lauren says and breaks off into a supernaturally swift gallop. The people of the neighborhood watch as Lauren and Ystra disappear in a blur and some creature does indeed whip along the street with the power of it’s engine powered grappling hook launched from its cannon arm. The thunderous crack of cannonfire deafens them as it chases after them nearly too fast to see.

“Do you think she’ll be okay with only three souls?” One of them asks.

“I’m sure she’ll find someone else willing to give her a soul.” Another one answers.

…

…

…

“So we’re back where we were last time.” Garesh says, “A whole day of progress just lost.” He examines the scorched forest. He’s not quite sure how it had happened since he had been under the charm of the Fey Screamer during the time, but he thinks his Incorporeals must have started a forest fire, killing the Screamer. It is times like this when he’s glad he has Incorporeals. With Jack to light the way, he doesn’t have to stumble around blindly in the dark. Millie wants to go to sleep, but Garesh urges them onwards. He won’t feel safe until he’s out of sight of the city. Even a few miles away from the city, he can still see the tall skyscrapers lit up in the night. The Inccorporeals can see far better in the dark than Garesh can. This makes sense to Garesh, Incorporeals don’t have eyes, why would they need light?

Svartr is all but invisible in the darkness, only visible when particularly close to Jack’s flickering light. Willheim is still just as noisy as ever, and it drives Garesh nuts. But he has long since given up on trying to keep him quiet. Millie is dragging her feet, sluggishly following along, rubbing her eyes, and complaining about being tired. Absurd. Screamers don’t get tired. Garesh wonders why Millie would want to waste their time like this. He is tired, but he is still marching on because he doesn’t want to die in his sleep. Something, which when he explained as his reasoning to get Millie motivated, caused a racket of snapping tree branches and rustling bushes as Willheim went on a rampage in the brush for a few minutes. With the help of Jack and Svartr spelling through the spirit board, Garesh learns that maybe it’s best that he doesn’t mention dying while asleep while Willheim is around. He doesn’t know why, but Svartr assures him, “R-A-G-E” and “F-U-R-Y” will result.

Stomping through the underbrush, Garesh continues to march despite his fatigue. It’s terrible. He knows that the A.S.S.F. will be following. Ystra knows where he’s going. And Ystra called him earlier that night. The A.S.S.F. must have gotten to her. Garesh can’t sleep if he wants to stay alive. The bright white-blue light of the flame floating in front of him illuminates his path. Garesh passes through the charred wood forest. He doesn’t have time to examine the area to figure out just exactly what happened there. Strangely, in the monotonous march through the night, the only thing allowing him to keep track of the time and progress as he walked through the forest, each tree-shaped silhouette the same as the last, was the frequent complaints from Millie. “My feet are tired.” “I want to go to bed.” “My legs ache.” “Where are we going to stay tonight?” “How long do we have to do this?”

Garesh has been walking through the forest for hours. Nothing has been happening. He is worried. If this were the untamed wilderness around the Outer Villages, he wouldn’t be able to go a single hour without trouble from dangers like wild animals, treacherous landscape, deadly plants, or hazardous environment. But here, still in view of the city, he has confronted no such dangers. With the exception of the Fey Screamer yesterday, he hasn’t encountered anything at all.

Garesh can’t help but feel like the forest is too empty. Where are all the animals? Where are all the hazards? It feels off, putting him on edge. Jack flickers, producing light less reliably, Willheim goes unnaturally quiet, Svartr’s shadow becomes an opaque darkness that is clearly visible even in the dimming light of Jack’s nervous sputtering flames. Even Millie stops her complaining, perhaps catching on to the tension expressed in the behavior of the others. Garesh can barely even hear the swaying branches and crunching leaves as she walks across the ground.

Garesh suddenly turns to face backwards, but he can’t see far since his only light is Jack, which is behind him now. In the dim light, he can barely see more than 15 feet away. But he can see well enough that he knows that there isn’t anything standing out in the open. This still doesn’t settle his unease. It must be hiding. “Svartr, Willheim, fan out.” Garesh says firmly, “Report back to me if you find anything.” Millie is confused as to what exactly Garesh is asking the Incorporeals to do since Garesh really didn’t explain what they are looking for. But the shade leaves the area illuminated by Jack and the annoying cracking of sticks can be heard moving away from them as well. Garesh hopes that it’s Willheim he’s hearing.

Garesh then begins to slowly continue walking, slower this time, as he is frequently turning his head and making sure he has a good view of the area. Jack and Millie stay close to him. Garesh keeps a close ear for Willheim’s location. He doesn’t want to lose track of Willheim, or else he won’t know whether a sound is from Willheim or a stalker. He has long since lost sight of Svartr, he hopes that won’t cause any confusion. Cringing at the soft crunch of leaves beneath his and Millie’s feet, Garesh is high strung with tension. “Look!” Millie shouts. Garesh jumps and spins, looking for what Millie is referring to. He looks at Millie, she’s pointing in front of them. Garesh can’t see what she’s pointing at. Jack is huddled up next to them, so his light doesn’t spread very far. Millie stops pointing and starts walking forwards. “Wait!” Garesh says, “What are you doing?” Millie looks over her shoulder at him. She tilts her head in question. “I want the toy.” Millie says simply. Then she starts walking forwards again. Has she been ensnared in illusions? Garesh worries that Svartr and Willheim may have been similarly misled.

Garesh can hear Willheim still about 300 feet behind them, noisy trudging through bushes, marching over leaves, and stomping through twigs and branches. “Svartr, Willheim, report.” Garesh calls over his shoulder. As he follows Millie closely and keeps an eye for any traps she might be walking into, he is trembling. Willheim is moving closer to them now, but he’s certainly taking his time. He’s still roughly 300 feet back moving towards him at the same pace he is moving. He hasn’t seen Svartr approach, but Svartr is impossible to see past Jack’s light, and very difficult to notice even while in light. Svartr is also silent, which means sight is his only way to locate him. In the distance in front of Millie, he can barely make to what appears to be furry and small. Really small. It’s no bigger than a bowling ball, but around 50 feet away, he can barely make out a furry silhouette against a tree.

“Svartr, Willheim, report!” Garesh calls over his shoulder, louder this time. He is surprised when he hears a loud thumping on the grass right next to him, and his spirit board starts raises into the air, with the glass moving over the letters. But I can still hear Willheim 300 feet back the way we came. That’s when he takes hold of the board and looks at the glass repeatedly jumping pointing out letters over and over again. N-D-B-E-H-I-N-D-B-E-H-I-N-D-B-E-H. Garesh goes pale, and can feel a cold sweat run down his back. Willheim hasn’t been making noise ever since they felt something was off. Willheim can be quiet when he wants to. Garesh turns back towards noise even as Millie reaches forwards towards the furry silhouette against the tree. He is faintly aware that he should check on what the furry thing that Millie is messing with. But he’s far too terrified about the thing he hears coming towards him in the darkness.

“Jack, fly over to that noise and immediately return to me.” Garesh commands. Jack obliges, and leaves him in utter darkness as he shoots towards the sound like a flickering flare. The moonlight peering through the canopy is the only illumination he has to see in his immediate area. Millie has now lifted up the furry thing. Though Garesh can’t even make out the silhouette anymore. She can only tell based on the sound of movement from the ruffling clothes of Millie next to him. No hissing or clawing from the furry thing. If it’s an animal, it’s probably dead.

Jack stops at the sound. For a second, even in the fire light, Garesh can’t see it. Then the thrashing hind, a full grown female deer without antlers, jumps up from the obscuring foliage and tramples it under its front to hooves. It’s missing its hind legs. He can’t make out the wound in detail from this distance, but there is definitely blood. Fresh. The hind faces away from him, faces in the direction he is looking. It’s pushing with its front legs, trying to move forwards. But he sees moves in Garesh’s direction despite its frantic pawing at the dirt. Jack flies back towards Garesh but takes a slight detour, following a line stretching from the hind. Garesh can’t tell what exactly this line is. But the line appears to be going from the deer directly towards Garesh. Jack gets closer, following the line slightly aside from Garesh’s current position. The line doesn’t lead exactly to Garesh, but to a position quite close. That’s when he sees what the line is, a near portion illuminated as Jack hurtles around it. Long and stiff, the skin-covered branch is crooked from elbow-like joints, each about 10-15 feet apart.

As Jack arrives next to them, Garesh turns towards Millie to see she is holding an old, faded, teddy bear that might have once been a light yellowish-brown, but is now dark, matted with dirt. But what catches his attention isn’t the stuffed animal, but the tree that it was leaning against: the tree is gone. Garesh’s fears rise as he can see that skin-coverd branch tethered to the hind. The branch is slowly moving, pulling the deer closer. Following the branch with his eyes, he can see it leads past his vision, behind him. He can see Svartr now. He wonders how long Svartr has been standing there, frantically gesturing with its arms, invisible in the darkness without Jack to light him. He’s pointing at Garesh? Spinning his wrists? The spirit board is still spelling out the same sequence of letters. I-N-D-B-E-H-I-N-D-B-E-H-I-N-D-B-E-H-I.

Garesh turns around. Even with the skin-coated branch to guide him towards the creature, he can’t see it. Bushes. Bark-covered oak trees. Millie. The gross teddy bear. The moonlight  peering in, barely visible with Jack’s light to illuminate the area. Lanky birch trees, the stumps of which swerve to combine into one tree. No bark on this birch. No other birch trees. Skin covering it. White, gaunt, gnarled elbows in its branches. That’s no tree. Dark, black, wet, tangled hair reaches down from a woman’s head impaled on one of the branches. The dead face stares lifeless forward, mouth agape in a silent scream. The head faces downwards, as though looking at the stuffed animal in Millie’s hands. Millie looks to Garesh. “I can’t take this toy.” Millie says, “It belongs to someone else.”  

Like a spider, the branches snap down from above, landing spiking into the ground around them, forming a little cage of branches. Garesh is fairly sure he could break out of here, since the skin-covered branches look to be like elongated human arms. With the bones of a human arm, they should be broken without too much effort. But Garesh worries that it might not be that easy. “Belongs to someone else” a voice hisses from above. Garesh looks up, at the dead face where the voice sounds like it’s coming from, but the mouth isn’t moving. It’s still held stiffly open. The voice does strike him as a bit femine, but crackly like the snapping of twigs. The voice is higher in pitch than his own, it actually seems to be similar in pitch to Millie’s but clearly inhuman.

“I’m sorry for taking your teddy bear.” Millie says, “You can have it back.” She reaches out of the branch cage, holding the teddy bear out. “Taking… back.” The voice rushes like the wind in the leaves. Two thin branches delicately reach down from what Garesh had originally mistaken for a birch tree and lift up the stuffed animal from Millie’s hands, with care to not damage or pierce the stuffed bear.

Garesh and Millie shift awkwardly in the cage of branches as the branches from the creature gently set the teddy bear against the skin-covered stump of what Garesh thinks looks like a birch tree. “Um, where did you get that teddy bear?” Millie asks to break the tension. Garesh fears that Millie is approaching what might be a sensitive topic for the creature. The head, which has been staring sightlessly at the teddy bear, snaps back towards Millie. Mouth still agape. “Someone else.” Hisses the voice.

“Oh, who gave it to you?” Millie asks. The creature pauses for an uncomfortably long time before answering. “Who gave it?… teddy bear.” The creature answers, asking and answering its own rhetorical question. Garesh is starting to wonder at the speech patterns of the creature. “Can you let us go?” Garesh asks hesitantly. The branch that holds the cracks to his direction with the twisting of joints.

“Taking… taking.” Says somewhat femine voice of rasping breaths from the unmoving face of the head impaled upon a branch, eyes never moving, always staring lifelessly forward. Branches slowly reach down from it and push into the ground next to it, like stakes burrowing into the ground. The middle of the creature, like the stump of a tree, lifts up from the ground, revealing this creature to be more like a spider than a tree. It crawls on the spindly branches, like stakes in the ground, towards the deer. A thick branch reaches forth from the Screamer. Protruding from the end of the branch are three sharp, claw-like branches, curved like scythes. They grasp around the deer, and raise it upwards. The tether pulls taut and the grasping claw branch pulls the deer up away from the tether. The tethering branch comes loose, at the end of the bloody branch it has several sharp tiny branches pointing backwards like barbs coated in viscera. The barbed tether pulls back beneath the Screamer, and the grasping claw branch lifts the still trashing hind above itself. Jack floats towards the Screamer, giving Garesh a better view.

Jutting from the top of the middle portion of the creature, the stump-like body narrows to a straight branch that goes straight up, smooth, and strangely without joints or skin, it appears to be bone. Sharp spear-like bone. The grasping claw branch is holding the hind right on top of that spike, and is pulling the dying deer down onto it, impaling it upon the spike and causing it to bleed anew. Garesh watches in horror, terror running down his body. He had been considering trying to talk his way out of here. Thinking that perhaps such a creature could be reasoned with since it had yet to attack them. But now, he fears for his life. And the gun holstered on his belt seems like a useless toy against such a terrible monster.

The Screamer finally has the deer sturdily set in place upon the spike-like branch or root on the top of its body. The hind is only lightly struggling at this point. The Screamer looks back towards Garesh and lumbers to the branch cage. It sits its stump-like middle portion on the ground next to them. One of its branches taps the deer spiked on the spear-like appendage atop its stump and it says “Taking.” Then, it lowers that same branch to tap Garesh. “Taking… you.” It says. Garesh is out of ideas. He sits down so that he doesn’t fall in fear.

Millie turns to Garesh. “I have an idea.” She says, “Give me the necklace and a knife.” Garesh breathes out in relief. Millie will protect me as per our binding. He shakily takes out his dagger and the necklace of beads. The little girl gestures Jack closer as she works with the necklace. Garesh watches in curiosity, uncertain exactly how Screamers and witches can use souls beyond simply sustaining Screamers and as currency. He gets the feeling that bribery wouldn’t work on a Screamer that already has them in its grasp, easily able to kill them. Millie cuts a portion of the necklace. Then she ties the severed necklace back together and she takes the severed strand of beads into a small necklace. Garesh is still unsure where Millie is going with this.

Garesh notices that two of the beads in the necklace are charred black now. Only 118 are still vibrant. Did Millie use one? When did that happen? Garesh, looking down at Millie in her hospital gown without shoes, is really glad that he had a spare change of clothes in his backpack. Millie was pretty disappointed when they immediately left the hotel; they had gone back to using the key and didn’t get clothes for her first, but Garesh knew that they didn’t have time. Millie stands up and lifts up a necklace of 5 beads. Jack’s fire sputters in anticipation. Garesh is starting to wonder exactly how they started a forest fire last time. Does it have something to do with the newly burnt bead?

Millie walks to the edge of the branch cage and, holding the necklace dangling loosely in her hand, reaches out of the cage towards the Screamer. “Here, I made this for you.” Millie says. The Screamer’s head lowers to become eye-level with Millie, something possible only because the skin-covered branch carrying it has an inhuman amount of joints. “Taking?” The Screamer asks.

“Yes, it’s for you.” Millie says cheerfully. The Screamer stares sightlessly ahead, uncertain. “Here, come closer.” Millie says, “Let me put it around your nec-, well, um, around your head.” The head leans up against the skin-covered branches of the cage, and Millie places the necklace over the head of the Screamer. “There you go.” Millie says excitedly, “It’s a friendship necklace, so you can remember us.”

The Screamer remains expressionless. With a stiff, unmoving face, it’s hard to tell how it’s feeling. “Remember… friendship.” The Screamer mumbles, the voice barely coherent as a slow clacking of branches hitting each other in the wind, “Remember…” The head looks down at it’s teddy bear, matted in dirt and decaying. It backs away from the cage, away from Millie. It turns away and stares down at its teddy bear. “Remember… I remember.” It’s voice is sad, full of sorrow. Though no tears fall from its dead eyes, and no lip quivers in its stagnant head, “Remember… remember… made teddy bear.”

The branches around the cage begin to rise up out of the ground around them. The cage branches are all offshoots of a single main branch that pulls back to wrap around the Screamer’s body. All of its branches curl back in on the Screamer as it hugs itself, moaning in dry sobs of loss. “I remember you go.” The Screamer whispers, skin-covered limbs covering its face, “Come back to me.” Garesh gets up and starts creeping away, grabbing onto Millie’s arm and trying to lead her away from the crying Screamer while they have a chance. Millie just stands there, staring empathetically at the huddled mass of appendages. “Come on, Millie!” Garesh whispers in her ear, “We need to go while its distracted.” Millie shakes her head. “No.” Millie whispers back sternly, “She needs a friend right now.”

Millie slowly walks up to the Screamer. Garesh looks down at the necklace he has. Only 113 vibrant beads left. He doesn’t want Millie to get killed. He would have to use a soul to bring her back. Which, now that he thinks about it, might be the best plan. Millie’s an Incorporeal. Even if she dies, he can bring her back. He smiles. Perfect. He puts his arm on Millie’s shoulder as she is walking towards the Screamer. “You’re right, Millie. She needs some help.” Garesh says, “You stay here and talk to her. And when you’re done, meet us up ahead.”

Millie frowns. “You’re leaving?” She asks, “Where are you going?”

“To Daisy’s, remember?” Garesh answers, surprised that Millie has already forgotten the plan.

“No, I mean. How will I find you?” Millie asks, “I’ll be lost and alone in this forest.”

“Well, remember…” Garesh starts to say, “You’re a Screamer, so if I start a summoning ritual-”

Millie cuts him off. “I’m not a Screamer. I’m human, just like you. ” She says sternly, her eyes are pits of coal, her face bloated and pale with a hint of blue, scars running down her body and wounds on her face, rotten sores and festering injuries. “But unlike you, I don’t kill children. I don’t leave them to die alone with a Screamer in the middle of the forest either. I don’t kill Screamers just because they’re not human, I don’t see them as slaves or lesser citizens. I see them as they are. They are like us. They were human once; they’re still the same people they were before, just with a different body.”

Garesh just nods and pretends to agree to abate the fury of the little girl as he slowly starts to sink into the ground, he is up to his ankles in the dirt. He hopes Millie will break out of her rant, but he’s sure that his bond will prevent her from harming him, right? Millie begins to breathe again. Color returns to her face, her wounds and scars disappear, her eyes shrink back to normal and Garesh stops sinking. “Fine, leave.” Millie says, “But I’m going to help this poor girl.” Garesh wouldn’t call that Screamer with the head of a full-grown woman impaled on one of its limbs a “girl,” but he also doesn’t care whether it’s a girl, woman, or Screamer. What matters is that Millie will distract it so he can escape.

…

…

…

“I think you lost your lunch back there.” Lauren says as she comes to a stop. Ystra says nothing as she wipes the vomit from her lips, “Anyway, I reckon we have about half an hour before it finds us again.” Ystra just nods. That’s not much time. We’ll have to do this fast. She immediately unstraps herself and jumps down from the saddle. By “jump,” it was more of a flailing fall. She instantly loses her balance as she stands in her stirrups and goes overboard. The leather belts strapped around her clothing in a decorative fashion that Lauren finds to be an eyesore, Ystra managed to break her fall and avoid landing on the metal buckles all over her clothes. She pulls her pointy wide brimmed belt lashed hat from her backpack and puts it upon her head.

She waves her arms out in front of her as she walks towards the door of the log cabin by the parking lot. Up against the door to the incredibly large cabin, she puts her hand around the brass handle and pushes. Nothing happens. “It’s a pull-door, Ystra.” Lauren says behind her.

“Don’t speak!” Ystra hisses, “It’s suspicious enough to have a horse in a parking lot, let alone a talking one.”

“Oh, yeah. But it’s not suspicious to walk around in a black dress coated in leather belts and wear a pointy, wide brimmed, black cone shaped hat?” Lauren mocks.

Ystra just ignores her. She pulls on the door, it swings open easily, throwing her off balance. She almost falls again, but Lauren catches her by nuzzling her back with her muzzle. Ystra steadies herself and marches up the steps into the cabin. Creaking on the wooden floorboards, she still feels like she’s going to fall, and the world around her seems to be moving forward away from her. I hate going so fast. The male receptionist at the counter looks tired but takes a deep breath to compose himself when he sees he has a visitor. “Hello, may help yo-” He trails off as he takes a closer look at Ystra. “Oh dear. Ma’am, are you alright?”

“I’m-” Ystra chokes on vomit and tries to resurface as she speaks, “I’m… I need…” Despite the lamps and lanterns lighting the room, it seems quite dark. She feels like the whole room is fading. She slumps onto the counter as her legs give out, arms splay over it, knocking over papers and a keyboard. “Oh dear!” The receptionist says, “Um, just hold a minute, Ma’am. I’ll go get some help. Don’t go anywhere.” No! No! I don’t have time for this. Ystra tries to call out, to get in touch with the witch here, but when opens her mouth, drool pours out.

Lauren stands right outside the door, too big to fit through the opening. Once the receptionist is around the corner, out of sight, Lauren enters the room, head discorporating into mist as it comes in contact with the doorway and reforming into the equine head once inside. “Ystra, get up!” Lauren hisses, “You can’t faint now! I can’t talk to the receptionist for you. He’s not the witch from the phonebook.” The receptionist returns with an old lady in tow. The receptionist gasps when he sees Lauren. “How did you get in here?” He asks.

The old woman just shakes her head, clucking in disappointment. “You should know better than to come indoors.” The old woman says, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the young woman. Now shoo, get out of here.” Lauren hesitates. This could be the witch, but Lauren can’t tell for sure. And even if it is, she can’t speak in front of the receptionist who is clearly not a witch. But they need to get a quick scry from the witch and get out of there. They don’t have time for Ysra’s queasiness.

“Ugh, belligerent beast.” The old woman turns to the receptionist, “Carry this young woman to the tea parlor and get her some water.”

“W-what about the horse?” The man stammers.

“I’ll take care of the horse.” The old woman says, “The woman is our first priority, the horse is only of minor concern.” The man lifts Ystra by her armpits and starts dragging her barely conscious form away. The old woman waits before she hears the door close shut around the corner before she acts.

Upon the clicking of the door against the wall, the old woman immediately jumps into action. She runs up to Lauren and slams her weight against her, pushing her backwards. Lauren stumbles backwards towards the door in shock. “Get out of here, you fool.” The old woman says, “I told you the young woman is taken care of.” Despite herself, Lauren continues to backpedal, head discorporating to mist it hits the doorway. “You didn’t even bother to duck.” The old woman says in annoyance, “What is wrong with the youth these days.”

Lauren breaks out of her shock as she finds herself standing outside in the dark, the old woman reaching for the door to pull it closed. “Wait, we need help!” Lauren, “We’re being chased by a monster.”

The old woman scowls. “Then you better leave.” She says bitterly, “I won’t have any monsters endangering my camp.”

“No, no. It’s only after us.” Lauren says, “It has chased all around the city, ignoring everyone else.”

“Then you did something to anger it.” The woman says, “Nothing I can help with. I’ll go wake your lady and you’ll be on your way.”

“No, we just need some information.” Lauren says, “We need you to scry someone for us.”

“What?” The old woman asks, voice and face indicating Lauren has hurt her feelings, “Do you think I’m a witch?”

Lauren nods slowly. “Y-yes.” Lauren says quietly, “You didn’t bat an eye when I started talking, or phased through the doorway. I just assumed-”

“Well, you’re right. I’m a witch.” The old woman says, “And a really good one at that.”

“Oh. Will you help us?” Lauren asks, pleadingly.

The old woman considers for a moment. “Only if you pay me for it.” The old lady says, “And I’m not risking you being here any longer than you need to be.”

Lauren nods. “Yes, of course.” Lauren says, “Ystra has a bracelet full of beads.” Lauren feels stupid. The old woman is wearing a necklace of beads. Of course she’s a witch. The old lady rushes inside and comes back out holding a hand mirror and bead.

“Alright, I’ll need a link to whatever you want to scry.” The old lady says, the door shut behind her as she stands outside. Lauren thinks about whether she has any of that False Bargainer’s clothing, skin, teeth, nails, or anything that belonged to him that would be heavily marked by his animus. Then Lauren remembers. “I sealed a contract with our subject.” She says, “His essence should be in the binding.”

The old woman nods. “That’ll do. Bindings are amongst the strongest links. Strange for an Incorporeal to bind with Bargaining. But before I ask to perform the scrying, I must ask.” The old lady says, “What are you planning to do with this information? And how would this person feel about being scryed on? I can’t, in good consciousness, let you spy on just anybody for any purpose. I won’t knowingly be an accomplice to some crime, for example.”

Lauren sighs. “We’re going to ask him for help with our monster problem. We think he might be able to fight off the monster chasing us.” Lauren says, “He probably won’t like us scrying on him, but he is a terrible person, so I personally don’t care what he thinks. Dylishan‘s Despair! He coerced me into a binding with Bargaining and violent force.”

The old lady smiles. “Sounds like he’d scry on you too, without the least bit of remorse for invading your privacy.” The old lady says. Lauren stares in disbelief. He could be scrying on her at any time. He’s got more Screamers, and a really powerful one like Millie. And he is bound to Lauren, so he could use that link to scry her if he knew how and had a soul to spare. Lauren hates that thought. Her only consolation is that Garesh probably doesn’t know how to do that or that it is even an option since he sloppily brute forced his way into calling and binding Incorporeals through the bloodshed of innocent children using a tome he couldn’t read right.

“Alright, let’s see what we have here.” The old lady, putting a hand on Lauren’s neck as she stands next to the Incorporeal and the hand mirror begins to glow, while the bead in her hand darkens. The mirror shows a man walking alone through a forest with only a torchlight as his guide. The flame, however, doesn't appear to be connected to any torch but rather is just hovering in midair.

“I need to know where he is.” Lauren says, “But this forest all looks the same.” Lauren is disappointed that they have just wasted a bunch of time and an entire bead on a fruitless endeavor.

The old lady pinches the surface of the mirror with her thumb and forefinger, and the visual zooms out. They can see the city lights nearby above the canopy. He’s not far from the city at all. Lauren expected him to be a bit further out even walking given that he had left two days ago, almost three days now, and is still currently walking even in the darkness. So close to the city, I can find him in no time even without an exact location.

Lauren sighs in relief. “Thank you so much.” Lauren says, “That’s what we needed to know.” Lauren feels strange that she is acting so nice. But with Ystra out of commission, she’d just get them all killed if she was rude to their only hope for survival.

“That’s all you need?” The old lady asks, “Good. I’ll go get your lady and set you on your way. If the monster chasing you comes after me and my camp instead, I’ll bill you for the damages. Lauren was about to contort that the witch doesn’t know their billing address, but that’s when she realizes that the witch probably snatches a few locks of Ystra’s hair while she was passed out and scry their location at any time. Well, we got done quickly, at least. Lauren sighs in relief. Only took five minutes. The monster isn’t even audible in the distance because of how far away it is.

Boom. Wait, what was that? Lauren panics. Boom. Boom. It's the monster! It’s here already? Lauren jumps at the door to the cabin, discorprating into mist, seeping in through the keyhole since the sides of the door are tightly fit to the doorway. “Agh! You’re-you’re a Screamer!” The receptionist screams, “H-help!” The old lady rounds the corner, Ystra leaning over her shoulder, limping her way to the door.

The old lady sees Lauren is inside the cabin and the receptionist is shouting in fear. “A Screamer?” The old lady says, feigning surprise, “For shame. Shoo! Shoo! I’ll let you know I’ve got connections with the A.S.S.F. Stay back! ‘Back’ I say!” She runs forward and puts her arms around Ystra, then throws her over Lauren’s saddle. “Get back, Screamer!” The old lady shouts, “Leave!”

With difficulty, Ystra manages to open the door while atop her saddle. Only Lauren’s head and the sides of her body discorporate into mist to allow her to fit the door while still holding Ystra. The door slams closed behind them. “Ystra, you need to put on your seatbelt.” Lauren says, “The monster’s here, we need to-” Boom. A grappling hook punches a small pot hole into the pavement of the parking lot. A whirring motor is softly audible as the figure zips down down the chain, landing next to the grappling hook with such force, that the pavement cracks even more. The creature yanks its left arm back, pulling the grappling hook out of the ground. The monster raises its right arm, a cannon-like barrel, even as Lauren feels a belt pulled tight around her neck. The buckle fastens, secure.

The door slams open from behind, and the monster head, obscured by the gas mask it’s wearing, turns slightly to look. Lauren hears the old lady from before start to speak, but she doesn’t listen. She sprints with a burst of energy in this moment while the monster is ever so slightly distracted.

“So you are one of the A.S.S.F.” The old lady says to the person wearing a gas mask, as that gas masked person spins around to face the fleeing witch and her Incorporeal, “Didn’t Isuertal tell you? During the Trials of Ghostlight Grove, people pretend to be Screamers and witches to scare other campers. It’s not real.”

The gravelly voice of a woman is muffled from behind a gas mask. “I know what I saw.” The person in the gas mask says, “They used illusions.”

The old lady cackles with laughter. “Illusions? Is that all?” The old lady asks, “You should head back into the forest of Ghostlight Grove. There is still some time before the hour is up. The trials are all about illusions, and very few that have participated are as masterful at crafting illusions as Isuertal.”

The woman in a gas mask slumps her shoulders. She knows she can’t catch the witch and her incorporeal. They’re too fast. And worst of all. They have illusions. “You’re right. This isn’t too important in the big picture. I should have stayed and participated in this activity that Isuertal has planned for so long.” The woman in the gas mask says sadly, “But you need to understand, Lady Pumilj, I’ve tracked that Incorporeal for a couple of days because it killed one of my friends.”

The old woman goes pale. “W-what?” She asks, “Y-you’re saying that-”

“I’m saying that Screamer is a murderer!” The woman in the gas mask yells, “He was retired. He didn’t work in the A.S.S.F. anymore. It had become too much for him to handle. And this Screamer broke into the veteran’s home where retired A.S.S.F. members stay and killed him in the dead of night.”

The old woman can’t help but feel incredibly guilty for helping the Incorporeal. The old woman wishes she hadn’t let the young woman leave on the Incorporeal. Now she understands why Greesha would abandon her friend, Isuertal, to hunt down a Screamer, chasing it all through-out the city.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” The old lady responds, “I’m sorry for distracting you. You should go chase it down.”

“No. In the larger picture, a single murderous Screamer is of small importance compared to abandoning my friends.” The woman in the gas mask says, “I’ve threatened their trust in me, and that may prove infinitely more disastrous than all the deaths that the murderer will cause.”

The woman in the gas mask veins walking back onwards the forest, head bowed in defeat and regret. The old lady calls out, “I know where they’re going.” The woman in the gas mask stops but doesn’t turn to face the old lady. “The young woman stopped here because she was terribly sick, and I brewed her some tea.” The old woman says, “She mentioned that she was going to leave the city. I can show you approximately where on a map.” The old lady, of course, was lying. The young woman said nothing at all as she had been barely conscious the entire time. It’s still kind of hard to see her as an evil murderer. She had actually received the information from the Incorporeal, but Lady Pumilj knows better than to admit speaking with the Incorporeal that killed Greesha’s friend.

The sound of grinding metal shears from the gas mask. “Leaving the city? They won’t even make it to the nearest village.” The woman in the gas mask says, though her voice more gravelly than ever, a chorus of scraping gears and motors, “Even if the Screamer can outrun me, they’ll have to stop sometime for the human’s sake.” The woman in the gas mask zips away with her grappling hook. The old lady notices that Greesha is still going towards the forest of Ghostlight Grove.