It’s been a week since I ran out of iron and I’m anxious to finish the axe head. But before I can get more iron from Snake’s supplier, I have to pass a test proving myself deserving of the high quality steel. I’m not annoyed by it, if anything it will feel good to actually earn something instead of feeling like the Chosen One.
That’s not a good feeling, I tell you.
He said the test was waiting for me in the smithing chamber. I placed myself on voluntary lockdown, keeping me restricted to the lair. I brought the water level of the mini-lotus plants back up and made a note to give the plants a more thorough inspection later. Dimming the sunstone (Still on the second one!), I also made a note to try making a moonstone later. Snake has changed the sky markings on the ceiling, removing some of the plentiful solar symbols I started with and adding stars and constellations. I think I know the direction he wants to take the decorations and I want to help.
The forge was cold and dark when I entered. I whispered to some fungus globes on the walls and poured what I can only describe as Shambling Wine on them. They soaked up the rank liquid and glowed a bright light in return. I mounted heat shields over them that opened up. They looked like fanciful sconed lights one would find in upper class establishments.
The coal was fully stocked as Snake said. I looked over a piece. It was dark as jet’s shadow. Pure carbon, with no traces of biological matter. It felt weird in my hands, eager for heat, eager for transformations. This was no mere coal. This was made to produce a very high heat. I looked over my forge and equipment. I had made most of these items myself, I know they can withstand my heat. But this coal looks like something Esse would use. I doubt my tools would last long in Esse’s forge.
Lying on the anvil was a bundle of folded papers. Well they looked like papers. Holding the papers down were three ingots of a very dark, very heavy metal. I licked one and was rewarded with the tang of iron. I’ve never seen iron this dark before. Blacker than my mother’s cast iron pan, blacker than the shadow under the pulpit, almost as black as the special coal that came with it. The visual difference between them was sheen. The coal devoured all light cast upon it, appearing as solid shadow. The iron ingots had a dark red hue to their surface that reminded me of dried blood on a skewer.
The ingots were the length of my hand, a few inches wide, and about an inch high. They were far heavier than they looked, even taking into account the density of iron. This was no mere metal, the materials of my test.
The papers… well… I hesitate to call the substance ‘paper’. It felt more like calfskin, but was of a texture far too thin to be processed calf leather. Every time I touched it, it reminded me of a Waking world story involving a certain lampshade. I attributed that to my ignorance of those providing the test materials and my own predilection to assume the worst.
The papers detailed a type of dagger. There were a few words inscribed where a title and notes would logically be placed. But they were in a language I did not understand. Thankfully the scribe of the papers had made such clear diagrams of the dagger, few words were necessary. All I had to do was make a iron duplicate of the portrayed dagger. To assist me, the dagger was shown in engineering style. Front, back, lateral, and point were clearly portrayed in relation to each other and in a 1:1 scale.
At once I saw the challenge. The dagger has three edges. The cross-section of the blade is based on an equilateral triangle. The diagram layout inferred the importance of the shape. Okay. Challenge accepted.
Weaver Forge-Spitter lit up the forge and began getting work done. Or tried to. My worry about the coal’s potential heat was justified. I used half as much coal as I normally would to start and was rewarded with twice as much heat than a full start with my usual stuff. I had to shed much of my sense of human self and become the trollkona again so I could focus on the task and not be distracted by the near flash point heat.
I was forced to be stingy with the coal. One piece of the soul-black substance was producing the heat of a bucket of mine. I placed all three ingots in the forge to heat. According to the diagram, the final dagger only required two ingots of the dark metal. But this is my first time manipulating it. Better to reform the leftovers back into a transportable form than have a cold seam in the middle of the work.
The runed exterior of the forge glowed dangerously bright. My tongs were softening in my grip. Even as the heat-loving trollkona (temperature extremes was where I felt comfortable as a trollkona), I was having difficulty remaining in the smithy. But I continued with the task. I reasoned what tools failed in the heat were no loss, and what tools survived the heat were tempered. Sometimes you don’t know what you have until tested.
I lost two sets of tongs to the black coals. The third (and last) set lost much of the exterior, but what remained was hardened and resistant. All my hammers failed but one. The survivor was a gift from the previous inhabitant of the lair. I was not surprised but this made the task difficult. Trollkona hands are too large for this hammer.
While the three ingots rested in an interlocked mass in the coals, I stepped out into the hallway to catch my breath and prepare for the shift back to humanity. Seeing the shadow cast into the hall reminded me of another form I could take. Human sized with human sized hands, I would be able to handle the hammer with ease. But I won’t be human. And the mental shift that comes with the form is unsettling and devouring. Could I become the Nightmare without losing myself?
Only one way to find out.
I focused on the task, on the desire to make the dagger, and shifted. At once I thought of a thousand other things I could be doing than playing tinker toys in a firepit. I thought of my enemies and of those that had insulted me, intentionally or otherwise. I thought of the Bonebreaker that jumped me last year and how easy it would be to track him down again and return the blessing of pain he bestowed on me. I thought of many bloody and sadistic actions that now seemed a far better action than poking in melted metal.
I stepped back into the smith instead. Later, I told myself. I can’t have any pudding if I don’t eat my meat, I told myself. There will always be a time for hunting, I told myself. But if I don’t finish this dagger, I can’t finish my axe head. If I can’t finish my axe head, I can’t go a-hunting for prey. I can’t have any pudding if I don’t eat my meat.
My hands were now resilient enough to grip the white hot metal without burning. This was mere fire after all, nothing apotropaic or warding in the coals. But my fists were not strong enough to even shift the doughy metal. Ah, yes, that’s right. The hammer.
By the third strike, I was completely engaged in the forging of the dagger. I managed to collect enough of my wits about me to check my work against the papers and make adjustments where necessary. Time passed, but what is time in Dreams? I remained at my station, heating and shaping, heating and twisting, until the rough form of the dagger appeared.
Now the hard part. There were certain decorations and flair that had to be engraved into the handle of the dagger. It was clear, the dagger is supposed to be one solid piece of metal. What delicate flairs that would normally be made separately and attached later were to be constructed at the same time as the dagger. The handle was to look like three braids of rope were wrapped around the thin shaft. Sounds simple. With this hard ass metal, insane heating requirements, and the unstable sanity the Nightmare form bestowed on me, I was having a hard time getting the detail to the precision demanded by the diagrams.
But I did it. Quenched, cooled, and polished by hand, the dagger was complete.
The handle’s pommel was a large ring, big enough to fit my thumb in. The handle itself looked like three metallic braided cords were wrapped in a clockwise spiral around a thin shaft. The braids appeared to be flowing from the raised blades of the tri-edged dagger as the edges crossed from blade body to handle shaft. Looking down the point of the blade, you saw a profile of a pinched equilateral triangle, just as the diagrams required.
While the dagger itself rested in a neighboring (cool) chamber, I collected all the scraps and shavings, and made a bar from the leftovers. Comparing weights, the dagger was twice the weight of the leftovers. I was surprised and greatly pleased. I had used just the right amount of metal to forge the dagger, two ingots’ worth.
Nightmare Mode was still hungry for other people’s fear, but was also cognizant that stepping out the lair in my exhausted condition was an invitation for another beatdown. I left the smithy, left Nightmare Mode, took the diagrams and the dagger, and entered the main chamber.
The sunstone was bright above me and the remaining sun symbols turned with the apparent subtlety of Sol’s rotation. Snake was cleaning out the mini-lotus bowl, having laid the plants on a plate to the side. “You really need some little fish in here. Maybe a snail or two as well. But you’ll need a bigger bowl for that and it won’t fit on the table. Time to divide plants, I think.” He was in full naga form, with two arms holding the bowl while a third steadied his posture and the fourth scrubbed out the bowl. His tail was wrapped almost completely around the table. I always forget just how long he is as a naga.
“I grew a bit while I was away.” I realize I’m thinking too loud again. I chuckle at my faux pas as he lifts his rattle tail and gently flicks it against my nose. I realize I have never seen Snake take on just the aspects of one species. Even as a cobra, he carries a rattle tail. Any other time, this would hold me in deep fascination. But I was tired. Spying a clear space on the table, I laid the dagger, scrap ingot, and ‘papers’ to rest.
“Done. Dammit, I did it. I made the dagger. I don’t know if it will pass muster or not. The metal is… different… from anything I’ve worked with or saw Esse working with. But, hey! It looks right!” I was too tired to even lift the heavy dagger in triumph. It was lying on the table, and that’s where it’s going to stay.
Snake said nothing as he wiped his four hands dry and picked up the dagger. Silently comparing it with the written notes on the paper, he turned it over carefully to avoid gripping the surprisingly sharpened edges too tightly. Thinking my test finished, I turned and began shedding clothes in preparation for burying myself under the pelts.
“You’re not done yet.” I flopped face first on the pelts and groaned. Every muscle in my upper torso and my thighs answered for me. “I’m glad you went ahead and sharpened it though. If this were any other person, the test would be complete. But because it’s you, and they know it’s you, there is another step.”
I waited for him to continue speaking, but he remained silent. I waited and waited, but the silence only grew more uncomfortable. He was waiting on me to ask what the last step was. I knew he needed to make sure I was paying attention. I remained face down on the pelts, but went ahead and made the formal question. “Okay… I’m listening… what’s the last step before I can turn in my homework?”
“You have to reheat the dagger to at least glowing orange…” I couldn’t help but scream into the pelts at my frustration. The metal could probably serve as a heat shield for the Space Shuttle, it is that difficult to heat up to forging temperatures. Snake waited until my temper tantrum had passed. “You have to reheat the dagger and use it to sear an evil spirit from the flesh hiding it.” I stopped my wailing at once. What is he not saying?
“That’s the word for word translation, right? So… tell me what that really means. What am I being asked to do?” I had a knot in my stomach. But once again, I was reaching for the worst case scenario. I was waiting for Snake to allay my fears.
“You have to reheat the dagger, and deliver justice on an evil person with it. You have to kill someone.” I propped myself up on my elbows, turned around, and just stared at Snake. He had such a serious demeanor, I almost burst into laughter to relieve the tension. “And not just any someone, but a person that has given themselves over to willfully causing harm upon innocents.”
“Do you know how little sense you are making? My ass is already in deep shit over the djinn doing just that in the City. And now I’m supposed to stalk an evil-doer down? Do I look like fucking Batman? Huh?”
Snake put the dagger back on the table and slithered to the shelves across the chamber. “Actually… I know just what kind of ‘evil-doer’ they are asking you to seal. And I’ve identified one in particular that will suit the requirement just fine. Don’t stare at me like that, Weaver. We both know what you are in your depths.” He retrieved a manila file folder and brought it silently to me. “We both know what you are willing to do… again.” He laid the folder next to me. “Get some rest, then look at the dossier I’ve prepared for you. I think you’ll find you will have a much easier time heating the dagger when the time comes.” He returned to the table, and continued cleaning out the mini-lotus bowl.
I slumped back down on the pelts but I could not rest. My curiosity was getting the better of me. I started to reach for the folder when a strong scaled hand held my head in a strong immobile grip. “I said, get some rest.” Snake spoke in an amused tone. “And I mean… rest!” He shoved my awareness under the pelts and I fell into deeper sleep. I didn’t even have enough time to display annoyance at his use of force.
When I awoke, I was in the same position as when he forced me into deeper sleep. One of the pelts was now laying over me. The folder was resting under my hand. I slept well and my muscles were relaxed. The sunstone was ‘off’ and the stars he had inscribed in the ceiling was glowing. Okay. Time to read the dossier.
I opened the folder. There were several pictures of a person that was usually male in appearance. But there was something off about the pictures. They looked normal, but I was getting an itchy feeling from them. In all the pictures, the subject himself (sometimes herself) had a camera in hand. I noticed the cameras also varied from the earliest daguerreotype cameras to the modern DSLRs. Looking through the pictures again, I noted the dress of those caught in the frame matched the camera featured in them. I did not question the anachronism of a modern photograph holding the image of a time before color cameras were possible. Not here, in Dreams.
I noted the subject had a long and varied list of names in many different languages. But most of them were plays on homonyms. What the names referred to, I did not understand. I questioned even deeper the necessity of this person’s death at my hands, until I turned the page to the known activities of the subject.
I read. I paused to catch my breath that I did not realize I had held. I read. I was thankful my stomach was empty. I read. And slowly the seething began to heat my spine. I read. And I wondered out loud why was this person still existing.
“Because he keeps coming back.” Snake was coiled in the corner. I turned over to see him still in full naga form. Three of his hands are busy with a bone white object in his lap. The fourth was holding a paintbrush. “He is like you, Weaver. Not bound. And like you, he keeps returning to his core nature.” He looks down at the object and slides the brush over the long surface of the object. “You are not forced to do this.”
“This isn’t just about weapon grade steel, is it.” I picked up the folder and waved it before my face.
“You can decline this final part. Technically, you have passed the test just by forging the dagger.” He doesn’t look up, but continues working on the object. I recognize it to be a large bird skull. No, a mask of one.
“Snake. This is not about access to rare metals. My forge skill wasn’t being tested. This is the test, right here.” I started to crawl the few feet between us.
“He has a victim.” I stopped crawling. He looked up at me. “I think you can guess what he is planning to do with her. I can not intervene in this. It is not my place.” He reached forward and slid the raven skull mask over my head. It fit perfectly. “But a Raven can go almost anywhere. That is… if this Raven is willing to go.”
The record of confirmed actions stoked my heart into a viciously confined inferno. I heard the raucous calls of murders in my ears. I could smell the ash of the Boneyard even though I was half under the table in my lair. A singular desire devoured my suddenly too hot blood.
“This is not a game, Snake.”
“No. It’s not.”
“You know how one-track I can get. Once I go after him, I will not stop until he is mine.”
“I know.”
The memory of my own abuses heated my skin. No. I could not allow this to happen again. I felt something break in my innermost. It felt like a chain snapping. I said nothing, nor did I remove the mask, but sat back with the dossier and continued reading past the list of known and confirmed actions, into the list of charges filed against him and all his lives. Charges thrown both in the Waking and in Dreams.
I turned back to the pictures. I understood now why they made my skin crawl. Each image was one of the faces he has worn. My senses were picking up what the Dream cameras had captured. Ignoring the visual, I focused on the unseen.
Hunger. He hungers for the pain and anguish of his victims. He takes delight in devouring their cries, and once he has soiled them, he is disgusted with them and throws them away.
I knew I was being manipulated. That the target was chosen specifically for the emotional similarities with my molester. She had taken it upon herself to “make me a woman”, and after doing so, regarded me as just another whore because I was broken. I knew I was being placed on the game board. But I also knew I could not in good conscious allow him to harm another person. Not like this. Not like me. Not again.
I stood and called my cloak to me. I adorned myself in feathers and shadow, but kept the mask in place. I didn’t look at Snake when I picked up the heavy iron dagger from the table. “Who do I deliver the dagger to?”
“Bring it back to me.”
“If he has victims there, I will see them to safety.”
“I expect nothing less.”
I smelled the ash of the Boneyard again. “I will leave nothing behind. His soul will be captured in the dagger, and his body will be delivered to the Boneyard.”
Snake bowed in acknowledgement. The posture surprised me. He is my greater, by magnitudes I can only dream about. But now he was bowing as if I were an official above him. I turned to look at him, my sight staring through the one-way lenses on the mask.
“Do you have the scent of your prey, Raven?”
“I do.” Oh, did I. I could almost taste his blood.
“Then go, Raven. Go and be true to yourself.”
I don’t remember leaving the lair. It didn’t occur to me until after I had arrived that I had purposely locked myself in. I shouldn’t have been able to leave. But I did. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, I was somewhere near San Francisco. I could see the Golden Gate bridge and smell the nearness of the ocean.
And I could smell my prey as well.
I was still wearing the Raven skull mask. The featureless mask melded its appearance with my feather cloak, so that I appeared as a modern day plague doctor. Feathers hid the portion of my head that the mask did not. Feathers continued down my neck and upper portion of the long black trenchcoat the cloak had transformed into. The upper portion of the coat was open, though, and a bright white shirt peeked through. Sleeved black leather gloves hid my hands under the coat. And the plain denim jeans snuggled against steel-toed boots. Everything felt right.
I took a step, and five small shadows encircled my feet. I have not seen them for quite a long time. Last I remember of them, was separating them from five coyote teeth that had snared them and setting them free into shadow realms to do those things that shadows do. (Whatever it is that shadows do.)
“Hey, guys. Long time no stalk. Have I intruded into your home?”
We found you again. We miss you. Let us come back. You are dark and scary and we like this. We like the you that we found. We have been searching for so long. We do not have anyone like you. You are fun. You smell fun. Let us come with you.
“I’ve changed since I last saw you guys. I’ve changed a lot. You may not like what I have become.”
We will not know until we see. You are still warm in the warm places. You are still cold in the cold places. They crawled up my legs and clung to my knees and thighs. Be our <queen> and we will be your <hive>.
They weren’t in ill ‘health’ or in fear. They were quite plump and well… fed. Their sentiment was clear. They wanted to be under my aegis, and not from fear or predation. When I first noticed them, they were five free range scavengers caught by the forgotten coyote teeth. At the time, I did not know what to do with ready made minions, so I released them. But now, I have ideas. Accepting them means being a source of energy to them. They will be feeding off me, if only to confirm my status as ‘queen’ to them. But in return they will become extensions of me and my will. And now that my own personal Shadow is aligned with me, I will have a stronger hand to deal with them.
“Mine.” I said nothing more. I didn’t have to.
Yours. They crawled further up my body, hanging off my arms in a way one would expect children to do.
I pinched the skin of my arm so that a drop of blood emerged. “Take, and be beholden to me. Take, and become part of me. Take, and be mine.” I don’t know where the words came from, nor the sentiment behind them. Only that even in the midst of the whirlwind, I was becoming more myself. They touched the drop of blood and shared it between the five of them. Even though they were clinging to my exterior, I felt their coldness suddenly deep within. I felt their chill, and felt them suddenly retreat to a respectable distance in my core. We were now intertwined, but I was their lord. I licked my arm prick closed. The loss was minimal and would be recovered upon the next heartbeat. The feeling of exhilarating triumph would not leave me for some time.
One crawled into a pocket while one crawled on my shoulder. One crawled on my head, but I moved it to my back. “Not there. Never there. No one crowns me, but me.” It accepted the chastisement with a silent hug. One clung to my right leg, and the last clung to my left arm. I noted it kept struggling to hold on to my left forearm so I moved it up to the upper arm instead.
“I suppose you found me at just the right time, my minions.” Silently, five curious shadows waited to hear more. “I am on a Hunt, and y’all may just partake in the feast that will come of it.” Five excited shadows squirmed happily upon my person. Striding forward, I follow the scent of my prey.
Moving between shadows, I cross from the heights down to the wharfs in a few eyeblinks. Stepping through a building, I feel the crossing of a boundary. Not wards. No. This is a separation of an area from ‘reality’. But what was merely a teasing scent before, is now a strong and focused presence. He’s here.
And he’s not alone.
I want to rend him to pieces, but the scent of the other presence stops me. There is a little girl nearby. A young girl. Her scent is free of the pains and anguishes that ages before due. She has known scrapes and bruises and the torment of not getting her way. But she has not known pain. I need to get her away from here before she does.
“Do y’all remember when we would play games?” Of course we do. “Can y’all hide a person from someone else’s sight?” Oh yes! We can!
The warehouse is dark and dirty. (Of course.) At first it appears there is no one here. But off in one corner, I see a little light. I catch a glimpse of him and my face twitches in predatory delight. But I know I can’t take him just yet. My conscious demands I get the girl away. Down the hall from him is an old door locked with a new lock. I consider removing the lock, but don’t want to make too much noise just yet. The door is surprisingly warded. But what are doors to me, when I can just step in between.
Inside the cell (for that’s what it is) are Hello Kitty dolls, fluffy pillows, and unicorn plushies. The mattress on the floor has Tinkerbell sheets and My Little Pony pillows. There is a toy kitchen set in the corner, and play tea kettles on the floor. It’s filled with all the things one would keep for a pretty little princess.
She was sitting on the floor, playing with the tea kettle. Dressed in a pink and white dress with layers of lace. I noticed the room was kept extremely clean. The feet of her tights were pristine. She looked up at me, and stared wide-eyed.
“Wow! A bird-lady! Are you here to play with me, Bird Lady? Why is your face all white? Your feathers look like crows but I’ve never seen a white crow before. Did the Camera Man send you? He said he was going to let me play by myself for a while and then he’ll get me and there will be more people and we will all have fun and there will be so many pictures!”
She wasn’t afraid. She lept to her feet and came quickly to me. She examined me all over and chattered on about my leather gloves being very soft. One of my shadow minions poked its head out of my pocket and stared her in the face. Instead of being frightened, she clapped with glee. I silently directed the minions to interact with her while I examined her.
She was dressed in the style of Sweet Lolita. When she turned around, I could see where the dress was quickly stitched to fit her. I could also see where the dress had been quickly stitched to fit others. And I could see body fluid stains where none should be. I was glad I kept the mask on. I did not want her to see my darkening anger.
“Things have changed, young Miss.” She stopped playing with her ‘new friends’, and looked back up at me in question. “The Camera Man won’t be able to take pictures of you today. So I’m going to take you back home.” She looked so disappointed. “I’m going to have some words with him before we leave, so in the meantime, my five friends here will play with you so you won’t be bored or lonely.” I smiled through my words and spoke softly. The minions took the cue and filled the boundaries of the room with their presence. They would hide her from him. And more importantly, hide him from her. To make her laugh, they took up dolls and arranged them around her and the tea kettle.
“We get to have a tea party! Yay!” Elated, she forgot about me and sat back down. “Everyone be on good manners! Okay!” Around her, five stuffed dolls nodded enthusiastically.
I stepped between the door and lock again, back into the dreary hallway. Something about the girl was not feeling right to me. But my single minded desire to shank the bastard that brought her here was distracting me from it. I did not step down the hall, but indulged my desire to be at the other end.
He didn’t hear me step in. He was too busy arranging the scenes for his next photo shoot. Because he was alone, he had many of his tools lying in plain sight. I did not know what disgusted me more, that these tools meant for consensual adults were going to be used on children, or that the tools were stained with body fluids from previous uses.
“Am I early?” At the sound of my voice, he dropped the rope he was stashing behind one of the props in surprise. Quickly standing up to confront me, he realized he was far from any of his weapons before remembering he had a pistol in his waistband.
“Who the fuck are you? And what the fuck is with the mask? Take it off!” He gestured wildly with the pistol. I raised my hands as if defenseless.
“But I was told this is a masquerade event. You don’t have your mask on, so I assume I’m too early?”
“No! Yes! Fuck! Wrong day, asshole. Today’s event is a private showing, by appointment only. Who sent you here? Everyone that comes here is supposed to have a ticket. Where is your ticket!”
“Ah, so the main star…” I gestured to the hobby horse prop. “He is for your own amusement, then?” When he followed my gesture, I was able to take a closer look at the pistol. A plastic fake. Just another prop. The mask hid my own hungry smile.
“I don’t do boys. I specialize in girls. Boys don’t cooperate, but girls… “ He suddenly realizes I’m playing him. “No! Who is your sponsor! This is a severe breach in protocol!”
The dagger is in one of my pockets, but I call it to my hand with just a thought. “No. This is your reckoning.” I move faster than him and slam my elbow into his throat. I feel his larynx crease inward with delight. He falls backwards onto a chair and bounces off it onto the floor. His throat is crushed, but not completely blocked. I can hear him wheezing furiously trying to breathe.
He is suffocating, but it is a slow death. He is staring at me while flailing wildly on the floor. I walk slowly towards him. A part of me says I should be ashamed for my emotions. The rest of me is telling that part to shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride. I mock him as his strength starts to fade. “Feeling powerless? Like you don’t know what’s going to happen next? Like your entire world has been turned inside out? Like you are a puppet on someone else’s stage? Like it can’t possibly get any worse?”
I fall on top of him, my knee placed just below his diaphragm. I force out the last gulp of air causing him to spit up blood. I realize he is bleeding into his trachea. If I don’t complete my mission soon, he’ll escape into another lifetime.
Snake said I would have no problem heating up the dagger once it was time. I doubted him when he said it. I understood his reasoning now. My unquenchable heart was the source, fueled by the rage of being the victim of a sexual predator, fueled by the rage of having my pains placed on display by those that delighted in watching me suffer, fueled by the knowledge that I will never completely heal from it only learn how to deal without making other suffer with me, fueled by the knowledge that the girl in the other room will never know this pain. The dagger’s blades glowed quickly bright orange, as my fingers acted as the heart’s induction coil.
He sees the blade and starts to pull and push at my arm even with his gurgling breath. With my left hand, I shove his head back, adding further injury to the damaged trachea and closing his mouth. As he involuntarily shakes his arms in pained shudders, I pierce his chest with the heavy glowing dagger. My strength surprises me. The large dagger cracks ribs with ease as the inertia of the thrust pushes relatively weak anatomy aside. He arches from the burning pain, only forcing the dagger even further into his body.
His heart is pierced through, but there is very little blood. The hot metal has seared the flesh around the entry point. He is bleeding out, but it is all internal. Even if I were to remove the dagger at once, the solidified flesh would act as a dry sheath. But I don’t pull it out at once. He is exhaling in what should be a scream. I hear only the gurgling of a dying man. I can feel the dagger piercing beyond flesh. I feel the subtle resistance of it piercing spirit.
I twist the still glowing metal.
His body slumps at once.
I watch as the dagger draws the man’s spirit into the iron. The imperceptible threads are soaked in like a dry sponge thrown into sink water. The action cools off the metal so that once the spirit is completely trapped in the dagger, the metal is now colder than the ambient temperature of the room.
Now, I pull the dagger free from the dead flesh. Along the slight concave portions of the blades, the dark iron has taken on a deep red hue. Once again, I am reminded of dried blood on grill skewers. I check the temperature. What was once hot enough to set paper on fire is now cold enough to flash freeze flesh. The quenching is complete.
I put the dagger away and check the digital cameras in the room. Fresh memory cards. No images of prior… events. I check the rest of the room for evidence. If there are other children trapped, I could free them. But all signs indicate there is only the sweet girl in the Sweet Lolita dress. I am relieved. And saddened.
I break the lock loudly. There will be no need for this anymore. Wrenching the door off the hinges, I step into the still muffled room as if nothing had happened. The girl had abandoned the tea party, and was sitting on the mattress. She was telling all her stuffed animals and the shadows a fairytale. When I walked in, she stared at me with a cutely severe look and placed a finger to her lips with determination.
I nodded in understanding, and sat crosslegged behind the unicorn and next to the Hello Kitty. “And the magic princess was happy at last and she went home and her mommy was not angry and her mommy made cake with happy dots all over and everyone had cake and was happy forever and ever. The end.” She nodded with firm knowledge that her fairytale was the bestest fairytale ever. She looked up at me. “Okay Bird Lady. You can talk now! Is the Camera Man ready?”
“Eh… Kinda…” I looked at my shadow minions. “You can have the limbs. But leave the head and core.” They piled the stuffed animals on the girls lap, much to her delight, and quickly left the room. I added the unicorn to the top of the pile as I spoke to her. “The shadow friends are going to make sure he’s all ready for leaving. He won’t be staying. And neither will you. I just have to check one more thing before it’s time to take you home. Okay?”
She smiled sweetly. So sweetly. “Okay! Can I go with you when you go see?”
I shook my head. “No, not this time. This is very much grown up business and I don’t want to risk you getting any… stains… on you.” I tried to make my voice sound happy and cheery. I was very glad the mask hid my eyes. The minions returned far quicker than I thought. I reminded them they were in the presence of a magical princess so they better not have brought stuff with them. I heard the sound of a small bone being quickly swallowed. Five shadow minions presented the magical princess with five pairs of clean shadow minion hands. And she inspected each one, much to my mirth. “Okay, your Highness.” I bowed with exaggerated formality. She giggled. “Lemme say goodbye to the Camera Man and see him off. And then we shall leave.” She giggled more and waved me off to perform my duties.
Truer words could not have been spoken.
In the staging room, I find all the minions wanted of the man’s body was his hands. Neatly chewed off with almost no seeps of blood, the rest of his body was intact. I called the fires of the Boneyard and poured them over the corpse. I hoped the Ravens would not mind the flesh arriving sans spirit. The thought of them opening up the blood filled interior of his core gave me a new mental image for the term ‘bloodbath’. As the fires dropped the body between worlds to the Boneyard, I came back to the girl with mirth on my face and murder in my heart.
“Okay. All done. Time to go. Are you ready?” She looks up at me. She’s tired. The shadows were fun but now all she wants to do is go home. She knows something has happened, but also knows not to ask about it. After all, I’m a grownup. And grownups look after kids, right? “You’re not afraid of me?”
“Why would I be afraid of you?”
“Well… I do have this big mask on. You haven’t seen my face.”
She tilted her head at me as if I asked the most silliest question that was ever said with silliness. “You’re not scary, Bird Lady. You’re cute! You look really sweet like you’re a Bird Mommy!”
“Eh? What makes you think I’m a Bird Mommy?”
“Because you’re really nice to me.” Oh, my heart broke so deep.
She lifted her hands. She is so tired, she’s about to fall over. And then I realize what is strange about her. She hasn’t eaten. There is no food in this room. Nor is there a chamber pot, or anything resembling diapers. The lock was a magical as well as physical lock. It kept her from leaving. I pull her to her feet. She is almost weightless. As if the only thing of substance was her dress.
No. Oh no.
“Sweetheart… where is your mother?”
“There was a lot of noise and then things hurt a lot and then things stopped hurting. Mommy and I were walking on the path to the better place when the Camera Man pulled me away. Mommy couldn’t find me but the Camera Man said after he took pretty pictures of me that I could go back with Mommy.” For the first time, I see fear on her face. “Did he lie to me, Bird Lady?”
I fudged. “I don’t know. I do know, it’s time for you to go back to your mother. Now, I want you to hold my hands really tight, and think really hard where was the last place you saw your mother.” She squeezed my hands tightly and squeezed her eyes so hard her face wrinkled in that adorable way and clicked her heels together while saying, “I want my Mommy. I want my Mommy.”
There. I could feel it. A thin, almost thread-like connection. It was tenuous, and the building’s lack of coherence almost broke it completely. But it was solid enough for me to see. And solid enough for me to follow. My minions took up their places on me as I reached out with one hand and pulled us through the realms.
Light. Not a pure white light, though. It had the yellowish tinge of sunlight. The girl and I were standing on solidified light. Behind us, was a swirling mass of shadows that I recognized as the exit back to the dirty world of ‘reality’. Far before us, almost imperceptible to my sight or my Sight, was a swirling vortex of pure white light. It was familiar, and yet it wasn’t. It took me a while to understand what I was looking at.
Ah. Of course. The girl doesn’t exist in ‘reality’ anymore. She’s dead. If she’s dead… then…
“There you are!” “Mommy!”
A harried woman in a power business suit with properly hemmed gray skirt came from the bright light around us and scooped up the little girl. “My precious! I have you! I won’t let go! I have you again!”
The woman clung tightly to the girl. The Sweet Lolita dress melted away and was replaced by a plain white and pink shirt and pink capris. I noted I was still in raven skull mask and feathered coat so I tried to slink away back to the realm I came from.
“WHAT IS THAT! DON’T YOU COME NEAR MY DAUGHTER!” Whelp. So much for that idea. I braced for immediate assault.
“No, Mommy! That’s the Bird Lady! She brought me back here! She’s nice and she has nice friends!”
“What… but… who took you? What friends? Where were you?” She held her daughter on the other side of her and stared at me distrustingly.
I stood at attention and formally bowed. “Madam. A man of questionable intent had taken your daughter. I was sent to deal with him, and found her. I did not want to risk her wandering alone after my task was done, so I found you and brought her back. And now that you two are united, it is time for me to take my leave.”
She stared at me until the words sunk in. “OH! Oh.” All the worst possible endings began to run through her mind and across her face.
“Nothing. Happened.” She blinks at me a few times before asking her daughter if anything strange happened.
“The Camera Man gave me a room full of toys and pretty dresses but there was no one else to play with me and I was very lonely until the Bird Lady came and she have five little shadows that played tea with me and dolls and let me tell stories until she finished talking to the Camera Man and sent him away and she brought me here and now I’m with you and I just want to be with you forever and ever. Can we make that the end of the story, Mommy?”
The woman started to tear up. “Yes, dear. We can make that the end of the story. But I don’t know where the end is?” She looked up at me and mouthed, “She doesn’t know.”.
She doesn’t know, that she’s dead. I just nodded. “There is a bright gate over there. You might see it better than I can. I’m going to wait here to make sure no one else tries to snatch you or your daughter. I’ll wait here, until you reach that gate. Because that’s where the end of the story is.” I pointed towards the gate I saw, far off in the distance.
But when the woman turned around, the gate was suddenly right behind them. The increase in glare threatened to blind me. I nodded at the woman and turned my back to them. I said I would guard their passing. I will not be a liar today.
Tiny arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind. “Thank you Bird Lady! My fairytale came true!” I didn’t look down at her. I feared if I did, I would melt into tears. “You were in my fairytale, you know! You were the Night Queen that rescued me! That’s what I told your shadow friends. They liked it a lot.” Dammit, this mask better not let my tears be seen. She hugged me one last time. “I know the Camera Man wanted to do bad things now. And you stopped him. And brought me to Mommy. And now we’ll be happy forever and ever.”
I heard the woman whisper that it was time to go. The little arms left me and I heard her skipping happily away. Still I remained facing the gate that led back to ‘reality’. There was a sudden intense flash of light. A sound of movement. A rush of implied motion.
The gate closed in the wake of their passing. The light ceased and I was surrounded by unending darkness. Welcoming darkness. Comforting darkness. My darkness.
I remained there for the eternity of a second. Letting the entire affair sink into my consciousness and seep into my awareness. My face was wet from the tears of watching another child pass on, from rescuing her from a predator, and by proxy rescuing myself, from the realization of just how maliciously I descended onto the man, from the realization I have trapped his spirit in an iron dagger intentionally preventing him from being reborn, to the further proof that while I may have a human body in the Waking world, I am less and less human with each further movement into Wakefulness.
I’m tired.
I wanted to go to the lair.
And I did.
Five terrified shadows dart under cloth and leather to cling tight to my skin. To the lair, they are foreign matter, they are unwelcome intruders, and they are feeling the beginnings of the lair’s counter defenses. As well as Snake’s unyielding naga stare.
“They are mine. They are beholden to me. They have tasted of my blood and are my minions.” And with that simple declaration, the lair’s counter defenses ceased working against them.
Snake, however, did not turn away. “Them.”
“Problem?” I coaxed one of the shadows out and cuddled it. It watched Snake with fear.
“You could barely handle Horatio. And now you have them?”
“If they get out of line, I’ll eat them and be done with it. Or feed them to something that likes to nom on shadows. Either way, I’m not the timid Goody Two Shoes pushover I was before.”
“Are you sure about that? You have not been tested.”
I sighed a heavy sigh. “Yes, Snake. I have.” Calling the dagger from my pocket, I placed it on the table where the papers still remained. It had a coating of frost over it. Snake picked it up and examined it closely. “The dagger has been quenched. The target has been acquired. The secondary goal has been completed. My game piece is retiring off the field with her loot. Good night.”
I did not say anything further to him, but made a quick pouch for the five shadow minions. I told them to remain in that pouch and to not come out for food nor fire. They gave Snake a wary eye still, but obeyed me completely. I pulled the raven skull mask off and hung it on the wall next to Esse’s shield. I noted I’m going to have to make a wardrobe chamber at the rate I’m acquiring regalia pieces.
Normally I would sleep naked under the collection of pelts. But the severity of all I have done keeps blooming in my mind. I will not admit to Snake that I am terrified of nearly each one of my actions. I’m still human enough to recognize I’m changing faster than I was prepared to. I am bare of all but the raven feather cloak, my tattoos, and my scars. In the act of being exposed and vulnerable, I am feeling very safe. Very… me.
He throws one of the larger pelts over me, and gives the pouch holding the shadows more stink eye. “I’ll take this to the master smiths at once. This, and the papers, and the scrap bar. The leftover coal is yours to do with as you please. It might be a day, it might be a while. But you will see me again.”
His words did not leave me with comfort. I only nodded in acknowledgement. Snake left, sealing the lair behind him so that I could not leave for any further adventures this night. I felt the dawn approaching in the Waking world. I was not annoyed to know it came. I was not relieved to know it came. I just waited for it, while five cold shadows reached out and held my hand.
Make of that, what you may.