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chasseurdeloup-retired · 2 years ago

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Fury & Flesh || Coyote Exorcism || Emilio, Jude, Metzli, and Kaden

TIMING: Same time as Spirit & Bone LOCATION: The woods near Regan’s death mound PARTIES: @monstersfear, @deathbecomes-jude, @deathisanartmetzli, @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden and Jude go to Regan’s death mound while the exorcism is happening in the cabin, hoping to draw the coyotes away. Emilio and Metzli end up in the same place so they all get to meet some angry spectral coyotes. CONTENT WARNINGS: Animal cruelty (mentioned/implied)

Emilio took a long drag from his cigarette, trudging along through the woods and keeping an ear open for nearby danger. He didn’t expect to find any. The paranoia that lived within the hunter’s chest tended to be reserved for him and him alone, uncaring of Regan’s problems or her claims that the world was out to get her. Of course, every time he’d assumed in the past that no one gave a shit about bones as much as Regan did, someone had come along to prove him wrong. Maybe eventually, Emilio would learn his lesson there.

Maybe it would be today.

He barely heard it. They were moving quietly, but not quietly enough to avoid being heard by the sharp ears of a hunter, especially not one as constantly vigilant and on edge as Emilio was. The snapping of a branch, so quiet it was barely a noise at all. Emilio stiffened, tensing as his eyes quickly swept the surrounding area to see — there.

“Might as well come out,” he said dryly, voice carrying in the otherwise quiet forest. “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

–

Jude carefully crept closer to the hut Regan was supposedly in. On their back, a large backpack full of bones weighed down on them, on their arms, dozens of runes inscribed in blood, needing just a last line to finish any number of pre-prepared spells. Both of healing and to cause wounds. They just needed to draw the attention of the shadow coyotes and bait them while the exorcist did her work. In and out, kept safe by the others, and if they failed, well… Jude had a backup sacrifice ready to go.

As they spotted a figure roaming, they looked back to Kaden in surprise. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here. It was the hunter that had felt the waves of death coming off Jude, Emilio. Hopefully… it was just a coincidence, and they were just out hunting… well, the kind of beings Jude had brought with them. This could be problematic.

Emilio turned to look at their direction, and spoke into the woods. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be able to sense an undead presence nearby, so Jude figured they’d give him something to sense, just to drag him away if his presence was a coincidence, and to keep him occupied if it wasn’t. They wordlessly and subtly tugged at the marionette strings of their magic, and held their breath, looking to Kaden for their cue.

Twenty feet away, a half rotten porcupine ambled through the forest, not being quiet as it snuffled for some food it didn’t need.

–

Metzli’s hand twitched on the branch of the tree they were in, thinking that Emilio had caught them. They smiled then, seeing the stranger act on such short notice. A distraction, red-herring that they were sure wouldn’t deter the slayer. They quirked a brow in thought. It was very possible he could be swindled into thinking he didn’t survey his area correctly. After all, they’d manage to follow him even with his innate ability to sense them. Taking a deep breath, they could smell the aroma of death surrounding them, both rotten and fresh. More like dirt than putrefied flesh. Smelled like home. But they couldn’t get lost in the musings of their safe dwelling. Danger was near, and they needed to get ahead of it.

Propelling themselves from the tree, their silhouette broke through the treeline, the moon hitting them with its glow. “You’re really lacking in the surveillance skills lately. Can’t believe you caught a dead porcupine and not me.” They landed in a crouch, with the biggest shit-eating grin they could muster. “Got anything I can break?”

–

This would work. Kaden was sure of it. It had to work. Lil would find Regan, do the exorcism, no one would explode from a banshee scream, it’d be fine.

He had a feelling, though, that the heaping pile of carcasses that he could smell from a good half a mile away wasn’t fine. “This way,” he told Jude as they walked towards the death mound. He wasn’t sure what the deal was with this coyote spirit or what exactly it was trying to get Regan to do, but he was pretty sure if something bad was going to happen outside of the cabin that might mess shit up, it was going to happen there. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable carrying his weapons again, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He was even less comfortable working with the necromancer who caused all this shit in the first place but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. “Should be–”

His words caught on his lips as he shut them tight to listen. Footsteps, small crunching leaves. He held his arm out to stop Jude from moving any farther. They stood still, but it was clear whoever or whatever was out there wasn’t walking away, but towards them. When he caught sight of who it was, he rolled his eyes. Should have known he’d be nearby. Kaden really didn’t want to hurt the guy too bad, but he was going to have no qualms kicking his ass a little after the crap he dragged Ari into. He’d buy him a drink later to make up for it, it’d be fine.

Kaden’s focus shot to the clearly once dead porcupine that was resurrected and shuffling not too far away, The ranger shot a glance at Jude and thought about punching them square in the jaw. Not yet. He needed them. That’d also have to be for later. “You. Make sure there are no other cursed bones over there,” he whispered to Jude.

He took a deep breath and stepped out from their place behind the trees, holding his hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t trying to be sneaky, connard,” he said, casually as he could manage. “What are you doing out here, any–” Just as Kaden was about to take a step forward, a figure fell from the trees above. “What the–” That was the vampire, right? Metzli. And they seemed familiar with the slayer. His brow knit as he cautiously approached, slowly reaching for the knife at his side, completely unsure what he was getting into.

–

The snapping twigs weren’t the only thing that clued him in to another presence; there was that twitch at the back of his neck, that unmistakable sense that told him something undead was near. The problem, of course, was the giant fucking mound of dead shit Regan had set up nearby. The first time he met her, she’d been pretty fucking set on the idea of nabbing the vampire he was fighting and taking it to her ‘death mound.’ For all Emilio knew, there were undead things buried beneath the bodies she’d collected, throwing his senses all over the place. He might have told her as much if he thought there was any possibility she’d listen.

Another branch snapped and, acting on instinct, the slayer tossed a knife in its direction, turning his head to follow the blade. It landed in front of… a fucking reanimated porcupine. Christ. What the fuck was wrong with people? He pulled another knife, ready to put the thing out of its misery, when a familiar voice sounded off from behind him. Immediately, Emilio tensed.

The Frenchman showing up was exactly the kind of shit Regan was paranoid about. Emilio hated this town, a little, for continuing to prove her delusions about everyone being after her damn bones correct. He turned to snap something at Kaden, to start in a pointless argument where he’d tell the guy to leave, he’d refuse, and they’d punch each other until something changed, but before he could get a word out, someone else dropped down.

This, Emilio thought, really wasn’t his night.

With Kaden on one side of him and Metzli on the other, Emilio was beginning to feel boxed in. And, like a wild animal, he didn’t take to the feeling well. He pulled out a knife in one hand, a stake in the other, and glanced wildly between the two. The distraction, though partially unintentional, was a good one; with two people to focus on, Emilio was unaware of the third presence nearby, the necromancer who was playing with his senses in the same way Metzli and that damn porcupine were.

“What, you two teaming up now?” He knew, even as he asked it, that the answer to the question was no. Kaden seemed surprised by Metzli’s presence, and Emilio doubted the ranger was a decent actor. “Leave. Both of you.” His eyes darted to Kaden. “Regan’s not here to keep me from kicking your ass this time, asshole.”

—

Jude met Kaden’s gaze without flinching, just a tiny shrug as if to ask what he expected.

Unnoticed so far, Jude crept past the encounter, staying low and sticking as close to trees as they could. As far as they’d known, it was just Kaden and them on this, but another figure approached the group, and the tense lines in everyone’s shoulders made it clear this was no happy reunion. Jude reached the edge of the mound of corpses, nose barely wrinkling as they were almost unphased by the stench of death, and slowly slinked behind it until they were entirely hidden from the view of the trio. They smiled as they noticed a moose carcass, recently dragged onto the mound. Regan had found it on her walk after all. No cursed bones to speak of, though.

The resurrected porcupine could have been a distraction for Emilio, but as it was no longer needed in that regard, Jude let it continue to bumble through the forest near the mound, neither interfering with the scene nor returning to them, as if it was just a visitor that was as drawn to the pile of death as much as the maggots and worms. They could barely hear the three voices as they pulled bundles of spell components out of their bag, but no one was coming closer, at once a blessing and a gift. They hurriedly arranged threads of string into runes and candles into pentacles, rats tails tied like ribbons around bone. glancing to and from their watch as the seconds ticked past. Ten seconds, fifteen. It was only through prior hours of preparation that the spell came together as quickly as it did.

Technically, they’d agreed that damaging the mound would be enough to draw out the coyotes. If this had gone without a hitch, they might have stuck with that, them and Kaden punching a hole through some skulls. But there were two unknowns involved now, and Kaden was occupied with them. Jude could use another ally on their side, and they were out of time. The exorcism was due to start.

This cheap semblance of animation didn’t require any real sacrifice more than what had already been made in preparing the bundled spell components. All Jude had to do was thrust their hand in the decaying viscera of a nearby fox and drain the life out of a hundred freshly hatched maggots. White light crackled through the mound of decay.

Bones of the moose began to assemble like grizzle covered parts of a lego toy.

–

Just as quickly as they showed up, so too did other parties. Metzli didn’t like surprises, the sudden shift prompting them to unlatch their holster and pull their knife out in one swift motion. Kaden was with the stranger they’d already spotted and of course the two hunters knew one another. Murderers always ran in the same circles. Was why Metzli knew both of them in the first place. “Like hell I’d team up with this shitty hunter. He couldn’t kick my ass on a good day and I’d kick his now if I could.” Pulling the knife from Kaden, they steadied it closer to their body. Just in case. “But, I’m playing nice since he’s buddy-buddy with Macleod.” They blew a raspberry, and waved Kaden away in hopes of giving everyone some distance.

“I take it you two have tangoed with each other.” Eyes shifted between the two in amusement, and they bit their lip to stifle a laugh. If there was more time, Metzli would’ve taken the opportunity to pick on both, but they didn’t. They managed to break two bones, and while the vampire didn’t know much about anatomy, they knew there were definitely more than two bones in a skeleton. “Well, that’s the least of my problems. Emilio, whatever you’re protecting, I need it. And I won’t take no for an answer.” Rolling their eyes with a smile, they landed and stopped on Jude. Every note off of them reeked of magic—of a type of necromancy. Something they had just experienced themself. Only, this mocked death, and even the lives of creatures who once held breath in their lungs. It was like they were spitting on them.

Sucking their teeth, Metzli dropped their knife to their side and backed away from everyone. Whatever was happening, they needed space to ensure they could assess properly. Especially with their impulsive need to annoy. Not even their soul could change that. “Ay! Tú,” Pointing a finger at Jude, they peered around Kaden and narrowed their eyes suspiciously. “Why are you messing with that pobre moose?”

–

“Putain, teaming up?” Kaden didn’t have a chance to be insulted before there was a knife held up towards him. From the vampire. Who was sporting one less arm than the last time he’d seen them. The ranger’s head tilted as he paused instead of slapping the weapon out of his face. They did have both arms the last time he saw them, right? It had been dark and all, but he was pretty damn sure. “Hey!” he shouted back as Metzli insulted him, pulling his own knife out, ready to go. “I could take you in a second, connard. I was just being gracious that time in the alley, got i– Wait?” His hand dropped slightly at the familiar name. “You know Macleod?” Huh. Guess this was a small town. Weirder yet was the thought that Macleod actually referred to him in any manner that was favorable. Kaden liked her well enough but he just assumed she didn’t care that much for him overall. Huh. Guess that was nice.

The nice feelings didn’t last very long. “Tangoed?” Kaden huffed out a laugh. “If you mean he tried to break into my fucking apartment for a goddamn bone, sure, yeah, we tangoed.” Kaden wasn’t sure who he was looking forward to decking first. Did the plan involve him punching anyone? No, not necessarily. He still planned to all the same. “Wait, you think I need her help? Putain de merde, if anyone needed her help it was you.” Yeah, he was definitely throwing punches before this was over. “I’m not leaving. You lea–”

His focus shifted as his head turned back towards Jude and the very dead moose that was somehow back on all fours. Kaden’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the necromancer. They were on the same side. They were on the same side. If he kept saying that, maybe he’d remember that. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing with that moose yet, but he knew he didn’t want to be on the other side of those antlers. He had to work with the necromancer who tortured animals. He had to work with them. For now.

A scream pierced through the clearing, all the way from the cabin. Kaden winced, the sound pounding in his ears. They were a half a mile off from the cabin. The scream had to be loud. Regan was in trouble. A pit sunk in his stomach, instincts telling him to turn and run towards the sound. No, no. Regan wasn’t in trouble. The coyote was. He hoped. He had to help here. He had to make sure Emilio didn’t interrupt. And with the shock of the scream, he figured he had a second. A second that he took to grab Emilio closer and slam his fist into the slayer’s jaw. Now who needed Regan’s help?

–

If the look on Metzli’s face and the knife in their hand were anything to go by, they weren’t working with Kaden. Unfortunately, that didn’t exactly make them an ally, either. Emilio knew the vampire was here with one goal in mind, just as they had been at the cabin when they’d broken those damn bones and left him floundering. There was no version of this story that ended well for him; there never was. Kaden and Metzli might not have come here together, but it was clear they were on the same side nonetheless. And that side was the one that was going to fuck up Emilio’s life over some goddamn bones. Christ. He should’ve left this town when he had the fucking chance.

“If you weren’t a stubborn fucking ass too obsessed with his ex to let go of a couple of worthless goddamn bones, I wouldn’t have had to break in,” he protested, as if Kaden was somehow wrong to be upset here. Emilio knew he didn’t have much of a leg to stand on in this particular argument, but he was stubborn and angry and stupid enough to argue anyway. He usually was. “I can’t leave, you stupid — “

He broke off as Metzli shouted at something behind them, whirled around to look with the hand holding the knife at the ready. His attention was split three ways now, and in spite of the magic causing its own kind of a distraction, he didn’t have to squint to recognize the third figure in the circle. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Who else was going to come out of the woodwork here? The guy he’d punched at the bar? The aquarium security guard? Levi? It was like a fucking class reunion of Emilio’s recent physical altercations.

And then — a scream from the cabin. Emilio whirled around, going against instinct and turning his back on all three of the ‘enemies’ in his vicinity to look back in the direction of the cabin instead. Regan was screaming, which meant Regan was in trouble. Which meant, as per the fucking promise he was tied up in, Emilio needed to go. The crowd here was a distraction; he should have realized it sooner.

He only managed half a step towards the cabin before Kaden yanked him close enough to throw a punch, landing his knuckles against the side of Emilio’s face with enough force to cause the slayer to stumble backwards. That faint but still present self preservation instinct told him to take off towards the cabin, but as usual, the anger that burned in his chest was a little hotter. He took a swing at Kaden, no thought going into the action at all. The knife had been dropped, though it was hard to say if it was an intentional move to keep him from accidentally stabbing a guy he didn’t actually want to stab or a happy accident. He wasn’t really considering it. The only thing on his mind was how much he wanted to hit Kaden in the fucking face. As soon as the ranger had a bruise on his jaw to match the one on Emilio’s, he could take off towards the cabin and figure out how to stop whatever was going on with Regan. His priorities were just fine, as always.

—

Jude swayed from the exertion of the spell, and looked over at the group as one of them addressed Jude in Spanish. They cocked an eyebrow. “Making friends!” They replied, trying to meet Kaden’s eyes. Every second that this spell kept the moose animated, the coyotes were more and more of a risk. And with as many coyotes due as they suspected were coming, they needed Kaden here. Their moose was a glass cannon, and the porcupine wasn’t what anyone would call agile. They met his narrowed eyes, and pursed their lips. He’d have to get over it. Once the medical examiner was free, they’d meet whatever youthful judgement they were owed then.

Before the coyotes came the scream. Loud and piercing, as if it was someone right beside them. Jude spun on the mound, but there was no one there. Another ghost, maybe? In their pocket was a pouch of salt that they wielded in front of them, swinging it firmly around, but any ghost made no appearance.

The scream also roused a response from the group, but unlike Jude, they seemed to recognise it immediately, a thought that made their stomach drop. They watched Emilio try to leave, Kaden take a swing at his face, and wondered where the third one stood. Hopefully, with them.

As the fist fest began, the air temperature around Jude began to drop, and apparitions began to appear around them. One, after another after another.

A dozen growling spectral coyotes, ears pinned to the back of their head, teeth bared. A dozen pairs of eyes starving for revenge.

“I’ve got company over here!”

—

Metzli stood between the men, dumbfounded by the amount of density the two created with what they saw as stupidity. Really they were just impatient, over the situation they had volunteered themself for to save their friend. Having a conscience really put a wrench in their self-preservation, but they didn’t mind too much. Not when their decision brought the opportunity to mess with two hunters. They at least had that going for them. “Of course I know Macleod. She’s my partner. And you,” They shifted their focus toward Emilio, but soon found that the attempt to speak was futile when they both went into attack mode.

As the two idiots duked out whatever pissing contest they began, Metzli honed in on Jude instead. “Okay, so you’re making friends. I’m guessing if you’re with this idiot, you’re here to—” To fight something. But they didn’t have time to voice that or seek an answer. The piercing scream from the cabin made them nauseous almost instantly. Everything happened at once, coming together in a jarring crescendo. The likes of which matched the all too familiar scream. Regan was either killing someone or in pain. Both scenarios made Metzli’s stomach wrench in a way that made their body twitch. Enough to step forward to get to their friend, but again, there was another interruption. “Puta madre. Que chingados—okay. Okay.” The hairs on their neck bristled and they slipped their knife back into its holster, only to retrieve another. An iron one that Macleod had given them.

“Don’t worry chiquitín,” Metzli remarked toward Jude, standing in front of them. “I can cover you so long as you cover me a little, chale?” They gritted their teeth and let out a growl, baring their own teeth in return to the coyotes. Each spectral beast’s body language screamed threats, but the vampire’s were just as loud, not caving into fear because there was none to feel. They just hoped Kaden and Emilio would get their shit together long enough to fight with them.

–

The satisfaction of decking the slayer in the face didn’t last long. It was quickly replaced with the pain of knuckles slamming into his own jaw. Putain de merde. Kaden saw it coming, but he wasn’t pleased with it all the same. He reeled back at the punch and was about to throw himself back into the fight when he felt a wash of cold air rush past just before he heard Jude’s cry.

Shit. The fucking coyotes were here. He had to help contain them, but he definitely had to make sure Emilio wasn’t going anywhere, either. Kaden stomped his heel down at the slayer’s foot and threw his elbow towards him, hoping to slow the slayer enough to give the ranger time to help his necromantic companion. If nothing else, he hoped it’d piss him off long enough to stick around.

Kaden turned to see Metzli ready to ward off the shadowy coyotes that had set their sights straight on Jude. Putain, that was one pissed off coyote. If it wasn’t possessing Regan, he had a feeling he would be on its side.

But that wasn’t the present situation, so the ranger charged towards the spectres, reaching for the stupid pack of salt Lil convinced him to carry around after their last encounter. He tossed a few pieces at one or two of them. Pits formed in their wispy shapes as they turned towards Kaden, growling and teeth bared. He readied his knife as they sprinted for him, fangs headed straight for his ankles.

How the hell ghosts were able to sink in and yank his leg, he didn’t know, but he didn’t have time to question, simply slashed out at the one on his leg, digging his knife into its back and giving it a twist. Kaden twisted to face the second beast, ready to stab the spectral creature before it leapt at him. Only he saw a flash of gold. The eyes. It couldn’t—

He faltered just long enough for the claws to dig into him, sending him backwards as the other tried to drag his leg forwards.

–

The coyotes arrived soon after the scream and with them came the familiar pounding in the slayer’s chest. He’d really only had one experience with the coyotes, the first night he’d met Regan, but he remembered it well. Well enough that she’d found them an effective threat to use against him in the time since, even if she hadn’t followed through on it. Logically, he knew they were playing for the same team here, even if he wasn’t exactly as willing a participant as the ghostly canines seemed to be, but the quiet prickle of fear on the back of his neck remained despite the logic. He didn’t envy Jude, who seemed to be the coyotes’ primary target here… but he was glad to know someone else was in their sightlines. That suited him just fine.

The fact that they provided an adequate distraction for Kaden was a plus, too.

The ranger turned towards the necromancer, and as much as Emilio wanted to continue their altercation, he knew he needed to take his chance and make a break for it to find out what the hell they were here to keep him from interrupting. There was some guilt with it, of course — he was doing everything in his power to stop a group of people from helping their friend here — but it couldn’t be helped. As per usual, Emilio had to lay in the bed he’d made for himself whether he liked it or not.

Of course, Kaden couldn’t make it easy on him. A heel slammed down on his foot, an elbow found his ribs with enough accuracy to knock the air from his lungs, and Emilio let out a frustrated grunt as he stumbled backwards. Kaden was gone before he could retaliate, but since the damn coyotes seemed pretty intent on tearing the ranger to shreds, Emilio figured any punches he threw would be overkill, anyway. He paused for a moment, the old instinct to help a fellow hunter who was clearly in need of a hand fighting against the promise bind tugging him back towards the cabin. Kaden was an asshole, but he was only here because he was trying to save someone he loved. So was Metzli. Maybe Jude was, too, though Emilio didn’t know for sure on that one. Either way, leaving the three of them for coyote bait felt wrong. But…

Emilio had people he loved, too. And he couldn’t keep them safe if he was dealing with whatever consequences this promise would make him pay if broken.

He’d get Regan to call the coyotes off once he got to her. She’d agree, anyway; he’d seen clearly enough at Kaden’s apartment that she didn’t want to hurt her ex, tested the waters a little by asking her about him after. Whatever was possessing her had a strong hold, but she was still capable of containing it long enough to make sure the people she cared about were okay, and Kaden still landed pretty high on that list. He got the sense Metzli did, too. When he explained what was going on, she’d call the coyotes back and everyone would be fine.

Hoping the coyotes would provide a sufficient distraction to make up for the fact that there was no way he’d be moving quickly after Kaden’s last attack, Emilio turned back towards the cabin and attempted to slip away.

—

Chiquitin. The word made Jude smile, and they nodded in agreement. Cover for cover.

Surrounded with a hunter, a one armed individual with blood in their eyes, a skeletal moose and a mummified porcupine, they felt the first vestiges of the possibility of success. Until they didn’t. Kaden dragged down, Emilio turning instead of helping. They yanked on the necrotic threads of life force for the porcupine, sending it barreling towards Kaden. Iron threads had carefully been twisted around many of its keratinous spikes, so while it was slow, when it reached them, the iron spikes dragged holes through the spectral coyotes. If mist could hiss and sputter like a boiling kettle, that was what these coyotes did, starting to melt into nothing.

Jude snarled, pulling pen from pocket. They looked down at their bared arms, covered in almost-finished spells that just needed an extra pen-stroke to complete. Only as many spells prepared as they had skin bared, and the resurrection had been a big one. They drew a last line on another spell they had prepared, as white light crackled from the veins in their wrist along to their fingertips, and jumped into Kaden, a healing spell to get him back up. It slithered around the bite strangely, as if even the spell was confused by the lack of huge gaping holes in Kaden’s legs.

Unfortunately, the coyotes didn’t wait for Jude to be ready for the next attack. A dozen deaths demanded a dozen revenges, as four pounced right for Jude’s body. Their moose, tasked only with the responsibility of keeping Jude alive, barreled into the party, antlers down as it tried to gore the coyotes with limited success, just knocking Jude off their feet and onto their ass. The coyotes’ lips curled before pouncing at the moose, scattering bones as it fell apart like a jenga tower.

“Shit!” Jude grabbed a giant femur, pushing it into the mouth of one of the coyotes. The moose bones rattled and tried to reassemble themselves without the femur, but the bone in Jude’s hand was already beginning to crack.

–

It didn’t take a genius to see that the group was fucked based on numbers alone. But Metzli never was that bright, and they always took being backed into a wall as a challenge. A battle to see who had the hardest head. They’d given enough knockout blows with their noggin that it didn’t seem too far out there to turn the odds back in their favor. Despite how Kaden seemed to be down for the count, they were willing to persist. Having weathered so many storms, Metzli had become one themself. With a core like a volcano that filled them with a cache of pain just waiting to be unleashed upon their enemies. Because of this, they had a way with monsters. Such as the coyotes that dared instigate a fight.

Cocking their knife back, Metzli whispered their hope and anger into their attack, splitting their worries with a feverish battle cry. The spectral beasts at Kaden’s legs dissipated with the iron, but they didn’t know for how long, and they didn’t have time to ponder. They just hoped it wasn’t a lethally permanent wound. For Regan’s sake, at the very least. They didn’t think she’d be able to forgive herself if she was an accessory to Kaden’s demise. Luckily, the spellcaster that had come along with the warden had a few tricks, mocking the coyote’s attacks and undoing them right before their eyes. Metzli smiled excitedly, the alert in their chest warming up the hope as they watched the tides shift ever so slightly.

With that motivation, they holstered their knife and charged toward Emilio. Their arm wrapped tightly around his legs and stopped him in his tracks, preventing him from doing the one thing he was bound to do. Metzli’s heart ached to know they were damning him, but that hope was a blaze and they had to believe that it would all be okay. It all happened so fast anyway. They barely had time to think. He wouldn’t understand, but undoing his perspective couldn’t be a priority when lives were on the line.

“Emilio! ¡Ya!” Metzli exclaimed, desperately trying to keep him pinned. “You’re gonna get everyone killed! Stop fighting this! ” Limbs grew frantic to keep the slayer down, realizing the trouble Jude was about to be in as they occupied themself with Emilio. Their reanimated guards were failing, fast, and Metzli knew they were next. The coyotes circled the pair, and they shielded Emilio with their body, unsure if they coyotes saw him as an ally.

“Kaden! Get to your friend! I’ve got it over here!” Or so they hoped.

–

Putain. Kaden didn’t expect to die by shadow coyote and he wasn’t even sure it was possible, but it sure wasn’t looking good. He braced his arm against the coyote, which was surprisingly solid for a specter, and caught sight of Emilio for a second, sure that the slayer was going to help. And then he walked away. The fucking piece of shit walked away. A flurry of curse words swirled in Kaden’s mind and off his lips as he continued to fight off the coyote. If he just had a second to free one of his hands and use his damn knife, he could maybe–

The spirits melted away almost as quickly as they had shown up and in their place was the waddling porcupine, still very dead, but walking all the same. Kaden blinked, staring back at the creature. How had it…? Squinting, he noticed something strange about the spikes. But there was no way that– Alright, Jude brought the thing back to life along with a moose and tortured the coyote in question, they very much would be the type to turn the porcupine into a weapon against ghosts with iron on its quills.

He winced as he tried to get up. That piece of shit ghost did a number on it. As he was planning to limp away and brace against the pain, a string of light wrapped around his leg, relieving the pain. His brow furrowed, trying to put the pieces together, only to hear the clattering of bones and whining canine spirits. Metzli sprinted past him towards the slayer as Kaden was finding his footing, heading back to Jude. “Friend is a fucking strong word!” he shouted, running head first the coyotes and the shambling moose that was looking a little worse for wear. Somehow.

Kaden pulled the pistol from his pocket, aimed and shot the ghost directly on top of Jude. The rock salt pellets tore through one of the coyotes, the spirit stumbling as it began to melt away like the others had before. He hoped those hadn’t hit Jude, but his concern was minimal at best. One was too preoccupied with Jude’s arm to notice the hunter, but the others spun and snarled, turning on Kaden. He shot again but this time the shadowy shapes knew better, blinking and twisting out of the way. The closest coyote leapt onto Kaden’s arm while the other went for his leg. The ranger shot the first one point blank. Still not fast enough, the ghost simply faded and reappeared at Kaden’s back, digging its spectral claws into him. Putain. He dropped the gun and reached for another knife, kicking the second beast away from his knees before plunging the iron knife through the specter. What was that, now, four down? Not bad. Even if the one was still on his back. Kaden tried to slam it into a tree but only felt the wind knocked out of his own lungs as he smacked into the tree.

–

Acidic guilt burned in the back of his throat at the thought of leaving the others to fight the coyotes alone, but what choice did he have? He didn’t know what would happen to him if he broke this promise. And besides, the coyotes were going to keep coming until Regan called them off, anyway, weren’t they? He’d be more help to this group of assholes by getting her to call them off than he would be by sticking around and letting them make a chew toy out of him.

The silent justification of his decision to leave did little to ease the guilt swirling in his chest, and maybe that was why Emilio missed Metzli’s approach. Or maybe it was the way he’d been fucking losing it for months now, or the way the whole damn forest seemed to be setting off his undead sense. It didn’t matter much what the reasoning was; all that mattered was that when Metzli came at him, Emilio didn’t realize it until it was too late. Their arm wrapped around his legs and he stumbled, falling to the forest floor.

As soon as he hit the ground, he started to struggle. Throwing out his elbows, kicking his legs, throwing his head back in an attempt to make some kind of contact. He heard the leaves crunching as the few coyotes who weren’t focused on Kaden and the necromancer approached, and he had no idea if they’d attack him or not. Technically he was on their side here, but did spectral coyote spirits bound to a possessed banshee recognize that sort of thing? Emilio wasn’t exactly eager to find out.

“Get off me.” There was a note of panic in his voice that he’d deny later, a genuine edge of fear. At the coyotes, at the endless possibilities of what might happen if this promise was broken, at the simple fact that he was pinned to the forest floor by a vampire even if it was a vampire he begrudgingly trusted. “Get off. You’re the one who’s going to get me killed. I have to — I’ll get her to call them off. That’s the only way they’re going to leave.”

He wasn’t sure if it was true, didn’t know if there was some other way to get the coyotes to leave them alone, but he knew that this was the only way to stop the coyotes and keep himself from facing the consequences of the broken promise. Was it selfish? Absolutely. But Emilio wasn’t only thinking of himself, despite what it might seem. Fighting the coyotes would do nothing. There were too many of them to take on, even between all four of them, and there was no way to chase them off permanently without Regan’s interference.

Desperately, Emilio continued to lash out against Metzli’s weight pinning him down. “Please, Metzli, please, you have to let me go. I can help them.” And himself, too.

—

Jude’s shoulder stung as a stray rocksalt bullet pierced through them, but mostly they sighed in relief as the teeth inches from their face dissipated into smoke. Even as they should have had their heart pounding, it was unnaturally calm, seemingly unconcerned by gunfire or vengeful ghosts. They scrambled to their feet, snatching up their dropped salt pouch as the moose slowly reassembled itself. It didn’t know how to. Where before each bone had sat where it was in life, now it only knew the framework of a moose. Its legs were made of antler and ribs, its spine of tibulas and maxilla and mandible. Its face was no face at all, hip sockets where eye sockets once were. It guarded Jude and became smaller every time a spectral coyote broke through it, fractured bones no longer usable for a skeletal form. As more of the coyotes encircled Jude, working as a pack with one mind, they flinched as they heard Kaden hit a tree with spectacular force.

They turned to try to cast a spell to help him, but after all their deaths and resurrections, this time the coyotes wizened up. One snapped at their wrist, knocking the pen from Jude’s hand and leaving the spell unfinished, only to dissipate as Jude swung their salt at it, but another slammed into their knees. Another bit their other arm, pulling it away so they couldn’t cast anything else. Jude’s knees hit a soft pile of mud and rotting meat as pain seared through their joints as sharp as lightning, and the moose that had been trying to defend them collapsed into a pile of bone, and the porcupine couldn’t trundle fast enough. Each bite was like molten magma poured into their bones, electric heat cooking their skin. The world tilted.

“Jude, we came to a decision. You’re too powerful.” An older woman with long braids told Jude kindly, looming over them, her long full skirt dragging against Jude’s shins. Except she’d never known them as Jude. They’d been Dolly back then, because they’d missed being a woman, and had resumed it for that lifetime. It had been a harder one, but a slower one, and as Head Witch of the Vermont coven leant over Jude, they weren’t sure it had been worth it. But none of the coven knew what Jude was capable of. Jude reached for their pen, a quill back then, but they could never quite reach it. Their mind was made sluggish by a mental caster. “It’ll be alright, Jude. You’ll barely feel it.” Jude. No, Jude wasn’t the right name for this lifetime, wasn’t the right fit for the flavour they’d been back then, in stays and bespoke made dresses.

The image of the Vermont Coven flickered, and for a second Jude could see the coyotes again. But the high priestess reached down, and tilted Jude’s face up to hers. They didn’t remember it, her name, but they remembered how she’d smiled as it began to rain around them, how thunder had crackled through the air.

“Only one second, Jude,” She said, raising her other hand to the sky. Lightning lassoed to her hand, and shot straight through her into them. Jude’s jaw tightened and every muscle clenched right up, their body a livewire. Whether it was the roaring electricity of a century old witch’s curse or thousands of synapses firing at once, Jude’s heart finally began to race as their muscles contracted until their bones began to groan under the strain.

The witches in their vision grinned. The coyotes around them bared their teeth as others bit deeper still.

Only seconds after it finally began to race, Jude’s heart slowed again. This time, it slowed to a stop.

–

The grip around Emilio’s legs waned at the desperation in his voice. It pulled at the newly forged strings in Metzli’s chest. They knew they were damning him in some way. Making decisions was nearly impossible though. Each option presented a victim, a sacrifice to offer in return. Fate, as they had learned, required balance. The impartial entity spared no one no matter the plea, so Metzli settled to do the same as bullets fired, Emilio thrashed, coyotes growled, and exclamations of pain mixed together.

Spectral beasts closed in, and so too did the vampire. Metzli covered Emilio with their body, only letting go for a breath to grab their knife. “Fuck off!” They swiped, growling and sliding up to tighten their legs around the slayer, firmly keeping him in place. Coyotes snapped and swiped, finding purchase in the Metzli’s skin, tearing. Dead blood lathered their skin, but they didn’t wave a white flag. They couldn’t afford to.

“I won’t let you get killed, okay?” Metzli swiped, “I can make this right.” Another swipe, but this time, it was followed by a push. The blade sank and they twisted it, making the final coyote of that push yelp and disappear. With a renewed and cautious enthusiasm, Metzli let out a dry chuckle. Their body stung and ached, but they had managed to help in some way, despite their not-so-brilliant plan.

The area grew too quiet, though. When the realization of that hit, Metzli whipped their gaze around the whole area, landing on Jude and hearing nothing. Nothing. “Kaden!” They requested, pointing with their knife. “Check them! I can’t hear anything! Their heart!”

—

Kaden barely had time to catch his breath when he felt the cold breath down his neck, the teeth sinking in, piercing his skin. Fucking ghost coyotes shouldn’t be able to cause this much pain but that thought wasn’t enough to keep the scream from tearing out of him, made from the little bit of breath left in his lungs. He doubled over and used the momentum to throw the coyote over his shoulder. It felt like his flesh was being torn from his neck, but it was hard to tell what the hell was spectral and what was corporeal anymore. Didn’t matter. All Kaden had to do was fumble for his iron knife, twisting around to stab the shadowy coyote. It started to yelp and melt away at the first contact, but that didn’t stop the ranger from raising the knife and stabbing the spirit again and again, rage pouring through him in a way it hadn’t for a while now.

The knife dug into the dirt one more time before Kaden noticed the growls and screams coming from Jude’s direction. Shit. Shit. His attention snapped to the necromancer who was covered in coyotes. He stumbled to pick himself up and run to help. He would help. He had to help.

The snarls grew louder and the shouting slowed. No. Kaden shot off another salt pellet. And another. Two were gone but it didn’t seem to make a difference; there was only one thing they cared about, only one person they wanted to suffer. When he was in reach, Kaden slashed his knife through the canine bodies, pushing it through them to get to the spellcaster, ignoring the claws scratching at him and the teeth bared towards him. With a flurry of iron, Kaden was able to clear the way long enough to see Jude.

“Jude, come on,” the ranger said as he grabbed their shoulder, shaking them despite the wounds covering them, trying to wake them from the shock. That’s what it was. Shock. He was sure of it.

Their body went limp and Kaden tried again, grabbing Jude by the shoulders and pulling them to sit upright as their head lolled back. “Wake up. This isn’t funny. We have to get out of here before…” The true state of their wounds settled into Kaden’s vision, starting to make sense. The pieces were coming together, but he refused to let it be true. “There might be…” He felt their skin growing cold against his hands.

No.

Kaden reached to their neck to feel their pulse.

It was–

“No.” The word was more like a whisper than anything. Kaden’s hands released before he could think to do otherwise, letting the body flop back on top of the pile of bones and carcass surrounding them. The limp, mangled body.

The body.

All that was left was a body. Kaden was responsible for another body. In the woods.

He was frozen. Stuck. His eyes were glued to the body. If there was more danger, anything else, he couldn’t tell, couldn’t say. The world went silent and stopped as he stared at the body of the spellcaster he’d let die in the woods.

—

For a moment, Metzli faltered. For a moment, Emilio thought they might let up, thought he might have something resembling a chance. But only for a moment. Their grip tightened on him again between one heartbeat and the next, protective and damning all at once. Enhanced strength might have given him more of a shot if the coyotes nipping at the vampire’s skin weren’t adding to the challenge of it all, if Kaden’s shouts and Jude’s struggles weren’t distracting him, if he’d wanted to leave half as much as he should have.

When it became clear he had no real shot at breaking free, Emilio stilled beneath the vampire, chest tight. He let out a laugh at their words, strangled and humorless. “You’re the one who’s going to get me killed,” he said flatly, though there was no real heat behind it. He’d known for some time now that this fae bind wasn’t going to work out in his favor, known that between Metzli and Kaden and all the rest of Regan’s friends who wanted to achieve something that would undoubtedly lead to Emilio’s promise being broken, he’d never stood much of a chance at all. Emilio knew well enough to know how to accept when something was over.

And a lot of things were over right now.

The air shifted as Metzli spoke, a new kind of chaos overtaking them. Jude’s heartbeat was a hard one to read — Emilio had noticed that the first time he met them in the graveyard and almost stuck a stake in their chest — but he couldn’t hear it at all now. He shifted beneath Metzli again, this time towards the necromancer instead of towards the cabin. Kaden’s voice, a whisper that might as well have been a damn scream, was enough to tell him what was going on.

It was an old story; someone was dead, and none of them had stopped it from happening. Emilio hadn’t known Jude well, hadn’t liked them much better, but the guilt that settled into his chest was there all the same.

But there wasn’t time, was there? There wasn’t time to mourn, wasn’t time to fall apart. There never was. “The coyotes will be back,” he said hoarsely, letting his head drop against the forest floor. “If you let me go, I can get her to keep them away from you. That’s what I was trying to do before.” Not the only thing he was trying to do, sure, but certainly on the agenda.

—

Metzli knew the necromancer was dead long before Kaden’s reaction confirmed it. Cemented it with every plea. Every shake hammered the rusted nails in, and though there was a resistance, there was no stopping death. Their shoulders sank, looking back at Emilio with defeat in their eyes. Empathy was a son of a bitch, but they couldn’t let it latch onto them and be a distraction because Emilio was right. The coyotes’ departure was only temporary.

“I’m sorry,” They choked out, disheartened and defeated. Metzli wanted desperately to do the right thing, but none of the paths fit their wishes. “No matter who I help, someone is going to get hurt.” They said it aloud, but they were mostly saying it to themself. Their eyes tightened shut, and they finally relented, moving from atop Emilio.

With him set free, Metzli bolted to Jude and Kaden, sliding next to them in a rush. Their hands hovered over their body, trying to find something to do, but all they could hear was Kaden’s thundering heart and the shake in his breaths. They were already so cold, and they knew there was nothing that could be done, so they just watched Emilio in the distance, hoping things would turn out okay.

—

Words were spoken, but Kaden couldn’t process the noise. Shapes moved as bodies moved around him, but all he saw was the one body. Just one. Lifeless on the death mound, just another dead thing added to the pile. And Kaden hadn’t done anything to stop it.

He had to move. Right? And then… do what, exactly? Kaden didn’t know. The only next step he could come up with was “stand.” Anything beyond that, he couldn’t figure out.

Stand. He could start there.

Kaden stood and managed to peel his eyes away from the body in time to see the shadowy wisps across the way. A howl pierced through the clearing as the fog took shape, the sound growing louder as the teeth and claws coming into focus. At first it was just three, then it was five, and before he knew it, they were surrounded by a dozen shadow coyotes, back and ready for round two. The ranger didn’t know if he was ready for a round two, not when he felt this numb. But he had to, he always fucking had to fight. Iron knife in hand, Kaden braced himself for another fight, pointless as it seemed to be.

A yelp screamed to his left and Kaden’s head shot just in time to see the shadows twist out of existence. Then another to his right. Until it was all around him, yelps and the spectral coyotes fading away as quickly as they came.

The ranger furrowed his brows, slowly looking around, trying to figure out what just happened. Were they safe? Really gone? His knuckles went white as he tightened his grip around the knife, waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him, but nothing came. Just silence.

“It’s over,” he said. Nothing left but quiet. And death.

—

Metzli’s weight disappeared from on top of him, but Emilio still felt heavy. He still felt as though he was being crushed, still felt as though he couldn’t get up from where he lay on the forest floor. He needed to run while he could, he knew, needed to take advantage of this distraction to go find out what the hell was going on with Regan and make sure she stopped before anyone else died, but…

All he could focus on was the damn corpse. The body of another person dead before he could do anything to stop it. He got to his feet slowly, cautiously, but he made no move towards the direction of the cabin in spite of the tug of the promise bind trying to pull him that way. He made no move towards Kaden, Regan, or the body, either. Instead, he just stood in place, uncertain and uneasy.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when the coyotes reappeared; in a way, Emilio had sort of known it was coming. Every time he’d encountered them so far, any effort to remove them had only ever proven temporary. They disappeared long enough to regain their strength, or whatever it was they did, and then they came back with their teeth just as sharp and their eyes just as angry. This was no different.

What was different was that Emilio didn’t use their presence as a distraction this time; instead, he pulled an iron knife from his pocket and held it tightly, ready to fight the beasts off. He’d never make it to the cabin before they tore Kaden and Metzli apart. He knew that. But… apparently, he didn’t have to.

There was a yelp, quick and sharp, and then there was nothing. The coyotes were gone. Emilio’s stomach sank. This meant there was nothing left to fight… but it also meant that whatever had been going on with Regan was probably over now. And Emilio hadn’t stopped it. The promise he’d made to protect her and her fucking bones had been broken. Dread twisted in his gut.

“It’s over,” he echoed Kaden’s sentiment flatly, a hint of bitterness to his tone. Whatever consequence he’d face for his failure was an inevitable thing now. He knew that.

—

There were many things that made a person, many things that made a heart twist and turn in a chest as a reminder that they were still living. Even if the heart itself was quite physically dead. Metzli’s did as much when they watched Emilio stand and decide to fight for and not against. There was a kind of power behind such a sentiment. He was robbed of choice, something so intimately his, one of the only things that could never leave him. Good or bad, those choices were meant to be his, and despite the consequences, Emilio stood up for himself and everyone else, informing what he had decided to stand against. The shock of it crescendoed in a way that reached everyone, ricocheting back to him until he crumbled.

“Emilio!” Metzli propelled themself forward, ignoring everything else around them. Kaden was alive and the coyotes were gone, and they needed to get to their friend. They would keep calling him that despite his persistent rejection. They never needed his forgiveness to place that label, to do what was right, and they would never ask for it. Their atonement required a sacrifice of pride, but when it came to Emilio, Metzli wasn’t seeking such a thing. What they were after was his familialship, the bond that had been created out of such tragedy. They wanted to make art out of the pieces of what was broken, and make something new. So they ran, not away, but to, and caught Emilio in their arm as he collapsed from the weight of the broken promise.

The pain he was feeling was palpable, but he wasn’t dead. A sigh broke out of Metzli’s lungs and they guided him to the ground, holding him close. “It’s over,” They murmured, holding their uneasiness in their mind until they could feel their desire for his survival gripping them. The sensation coursed through them, bringing Emilio closer to Metzli’s chest, and they counted every beat of his rapid heart. It continued, and that’s all they could ask for. Somehow their wish was being granted, and they knew better than to question it. Eilidh had taught them not to.

#writing #wickedswriting #chatzy #deathisanartmetzli #metzli #monstersfear #emilio #jude #deathbecomesjude #animal cruelty tw #fury and flesh #coyote exorcism

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kadavernagh · 2 years ago

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Spirit & Bone || Coyote Exorcism

TIMING: Same time as Fury & Flesh LOCATION: Regan’s cabin CHARACTERS: Regan, Lil, Leah, Ari, and Nicole SUMMARY: A group has organized to free Regan from her coyote problem. But the coyote won’t go easy, and has some tricks up its sleeve -- or really Regan’s. Will the coyote meet its match in an exorcism, especially if it’s an ACME brand one? CONTENT WARNINGS: Animal cruelty (mentioned/implied)

The coyote was restless. Regan didn’t know why, and it offered no explanation. Sometimes it just had a feeling. It sensed things no banshee, let alone human, could ever dream of. The scent of sweat on the skin of nearby hikers, creeping too close to the cabin. Or the sound of a hawk crushing a songbird in its claws half a mile away. Today it felt threatened, caged. And it hated feeling caged. It was desperate enough for some of its nerves to sink themselves into Regan, latching to her skin. She couldn’t shake it off any better than the coyote.

Something was going to happen. But perhaps it was the fruits of their labors, rather than anything to fear. For once, she was relieved she had already asked Emilio to patrol nearby. This was the most delicate part of the ceremony they were to do – the laying of the last bones on the mound of death they had been building for months. If they were interrupted, the whole thing was sure to unravel, decomposing to nothingness before the coyote’s hollow eyes. That couldn’t happen. This was its only path to a peaceful rest. Most of the bones in her vast collection were in place, now. She had shuffled back from the mound to the cabin, collecting the remaining skunk and raccoon bones in her arms.

Something… there was something. The coyote seemed to freeze, a deep chill emanating out from the bag its skull was swaddled in. Regan delicately set down the bones and scooped the bag up in their stead, holding it close. What did it sense? What was it?

Regan’s head turned sharply toward the door, eyes narrowed and a scream simmering in her lungs. Someone is there. Multiple someones. Its thoughts were like chattering teeth in her head. “I know.” Regan replied. We will deal with them. “I know.” She repeated, this time with finality.

Lilian had been quiet most of the time going to the cabin that they were approaching, her eyes focused on the road ahead. She was tired, dead tired from the ghosts and exorcisms that seemed to follow her around these days clinging to her. Her usual up-beat nature was tampered down knowing that this event wasn’t going to be easy. She didn’t know all the moving parts, but in fairness she rarely asked questions about the details of things. Simply, there were things that were easier not to know. Exorcists were called to be focused on a goal, not wondering about the contents of a soul. Not wondering what the coyotes wanted, even if she felt something sour about it in her mouth.

Nodding to the others softly Lil said in a low voice, “ Is this the cabin? If so - she’s probably going to go after me first if the ghost realizes what I am. If you can get her in a chair I can draw a circle quickly. It won’t be able to get out of it then, and probably won’t be able to jump. Are we ready? ” She hoped at least. From what she was told, this seemed to be a spirit not a demon, but - well it was worth a shot at least. Her left hand curled around the chalk in her palm while her right held her dagger hoping not to use it.

Leah could not wrap her mind around all the ways what they were about to do could go wrong, and she hated the feeling. She had the privilege and the resources to always have a plan in a situation like this. Or-, multiple plans, really. Plan A, and plan B, and even plans C-ZZ when all the previous ones went wrong. She could research, meticulously and with finality, all the ways that situations had gone wrong before, and all the ways to avoid those wrongs before they happened.

But there was nothing concrete about this, at least not in the limited Ramirez scribary.

It wasn’t unheard of for new situations to arise, of course, but it was the first time in this life at least that Leah had to deal with it. She gripped Nicole’s hand in hers tightly, uncomfortable with the feeling. Regan was going to be angry. She would have been angry being surprised like this anyway, but the possession made that anger entirely too unpredictable. She hoped the real Regan would fight through whatever was tainting her mind, but couldn’t imagine how hard that must be. She looked over at Lil with a nod at her question, and then back at the familiar door. “We’ll do our best. I don’t have much to offer in strength but I can try to back her into a corner via temperature. What are you thinking?”, she asked, turning to Ari. Ari, who she hadn’t seen since their memorial for Alcher. She had to remember to invite that girl over for dinner or something, lest all their interactions be through traumatic events involving mutual loved ones. The thought made her look to Nicole again, letting out a breath. “Maybe I can distract her somehow… maybe you two can each take a side.”

When Nicole and Leah had asked her to come along to help with some ritual, Ari hadn’t thought much of it. When it came to helping people, she rarely did. Just yes and action and that was that. The details hadn’t fully registered given the hazy state she existed in most of the time these days, but in the moment, she knew she’d know what to do. When it came to a fight, her instincts were pretty sharp. Being a predator with years of training had its perks or something. During the walk, the wolf hadn’t been paying all that much attention or she would have noticed the route seemed familiar.

Once they were at the door of the cabin it clicked and Ari had to swallow back the panic that was rising in her. Why were they at Regan’s cabin? Maybe she really should have asked some questions, but if they were here to help Regan, it was probably fine. She was sure it wouldn’t count as repaying her debt to the banshee. Or maybe it would. She couldn’t really say. The cabin felt just as cold and sterile as it had the last time she was here. Death and wood being the primary smell. Leah’s voice pulled her out of her head. “This is Regan’s cabin,” she said, slowly, “Are we here to help her?”

Nicole had no stakes in this situation. She didn’t even know the woman about to be exorcised. But her conscience wouldn't have allowed her to sleep at night if these women risked their lives for nothing. She had to be there to make sure Leah's bones remained intact, that Lil didn't exert herself like she almost did banishing the termites, or that Ari didn’t attempt anything reckless. Alright, she had stakes but they were different. If they needed an exit plan, she wouldn't hesitate to make it happen. No ifs or buts.

Nicole didn’t know this woman, but a beast's spirit inhabiting your body was not something she wished on anyone, even if the circumstances weren't quite the same. “Just give me enough time to leave to circle” she glanced at Lil. They had been an unconventional team against the ghost termites, but an effective one. She trusted her to get it right. And it shouldn’t be a problem for her and Ari to muscle the woman into a chair as long as she didn’t have reinforcements inside. Like those awful coyotes they fought in her garden. “We can try that” She gave Leah a curt nod, but squeezed her hand in reassurance.

Planning and executing were two different things though, especially under pressure. And so, standing right outside the cabin, ready to open the door, Nicole hoped for the best but prepared for the worst. Ariana’s question registered in her brain right as she pushed the door open. She did a double take. Wait. Did they not tell her the name? “Yeah… Why’s that—” her words died in her throat once she peered inside the slight opening, shivers running down her spine as the scent of decay flooded her lungs.

She would not get the door. It wasn’t even locked, anyway – she had only meant to stop in for the rest of the bones. Bounding over to do so wouldn’t stymie anyone with steely determination. And Regan had a feeling this was no lost hiker. She could hear them. Voices outside. Multiple, familiar, but she couldn’t place them. So she froze, letting the coldness of the bones in her arms fill her as she stared at the door knowing it would move at any moment. Her wings flicked against her back, the only anxious betrayal of her composure. The skull commanded her to be prepared. A scream whipped up like a storm inside of her lungs, and Regan held it in her chest. Movement. The door getting nudged.

Leah. The scream seared her intercostals, wanting to be belted squarely at the librarian. There were others, too – Lil, that child Ariana, someone Regan didn’t know – but none of them enraged her quite as much. Leah’s presence said enough. She knew what this was about. “One chance,” Regan said, the edges of the scream leaking into her voice, “You all have one chance to leave.” One of the skunk bones – a darling scapula – shattered in her hands in response to the vibration. She gave the remaining bones a loving clench and then sat them down, opting to keep the more valuable skull in her bag. It would be safe there. It would always be safe with her. “Do you understand? We will do the same to your bones.”

It was already happening so fast. Ari’s question (which Leah was glad Nicole answered), the door swinging open, and …Regan. Still somehow both fully herself and less herself than Leah had last seen her. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder, filled with things for the ritual and anything else they might need. Candles, sage, a bag of salt, tears… She hoped they wouldn’t need the tears. Then, there was the threat, and the tell-tale sign that Regan was about to scream. Her voice echoed around them, more ominous than the threat could ever have been. Bones shattered in Regan’s hands, and it was almost a wonder that her own bones weren’t already cracking inside her. With a swallow, she looked hard into Regan’s eyes. She’d heard what she thought was Regan screaming plenty of times before, but from a distance. She knew the power her scream had. But they couldn’t leave. They couldn’t let Regan destroy herself anymore.

She needed to get her attention; she needed to find some way to get her to listen. She didn’t listen back at the apartment or on the internet, and she didn’t seem primed to listen now. So Leah had to try something different. “Regan”, she said, both in greeting an acknowledgement. Her nerves got the best of her, and in the blink of an eye, she flashed to her flame state and then back in an instant. Her fire hadn’t been working properly in months, but she tried to see the silver lining of it all- maybe this would serve as a good enough distraction to Regan for the time being. With adrenaline rushing, people’s senses went into overdrive. Maybe the shock of seeing a friend on fire would do enough of the trick.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how scary this must be for you. None of us can. But there is something inside you that doesn’t belong there, Regan. It’s not there to help you, it’s using you. And when it’s done with you, I’m worried it will leave you with nothing left.” Regan was threatening people she loved and there was no longer a doubt in Leah’s mind that she would follow through with it. “We first met because you needed help, Regan. In an absolutely wild situation, you needed help. And I came, because there are things I know about this town that are just unexplainable to most people. And we can help you now, okay? But we can’t help you if you don’t let us.” She took a deep breath, glancing at the women around her. ‘If there was ever any ounce of trust you had in me that I could help you with something like this… if there was ever an inch of doubt about what’s been going on with you… then I need you to promise. Promise me you won’t scream while we’re here.”

Leah. She did something. For a second, just a second, Regan stared at where her friend stood as her slow heart raced. There had been fire. Leah, somehow, looked as if – but that was impossible. So why did her heart sprint at the impossible? The coyote was unimpressed. But an old memory dislodged itself – Augusta’s Office of Medical Examiner going up in smoke, the flames licking at the entrance of the autopsy suite, the half-finished autopsy shielded behind her. Regan squinted at Leah, seeing if she could summon back the fire with her mind for long enough to be convinced to run. But there was nothing. Only Leah. Leah and her pleading words.

“You don’t know anything,” Regan hissed, a lightbulb popping behind her. “I gave you a –” Warning. But Leah wasn’t done. And while the coyote was tugging at her, calling on her to act, something was stopping her. But not for long. The coyote’s urgency doubled at Leah’s words, enraged that it had been detected and spoken of in such a manner. What could they do? Nothing. It wouldn’t allow it. Regan wrapped her arms around her chest, no longer confident she could contain the scream even if she wanted to. And she didn’t. Right? She didn’t. The coyote confirmed it.

This was it. She would not give up her scream. The coyote knew her for the servant and weapon that she was. And while the scream wasn’t their only asset – there were still the shadows – it was the only one capable of causing true, physical harm. It sensed Regan’s hesitation. Only a flicker of it, but enough for the coyote to grow concerned by her cowardice. You’re better than this, it reminded her, its voice like chattering teeth in her head. It was afraid, Regan realized, too slowly and too late. Think of your training. The social tethers choked out of you. These humans don’t matter. What matters is finishing the work.

They were intruders, interlopers. The small amount of warmth Regan felt at seeing familiar faces, the tiny gap of doubt Leah had been needling at, was wrung out of her. They might as well have been strangers. Humans interfering with things beyond their ken. The coyote pushed harder. They were an active threat. Regan’s gaze darkened as she looked at the humans. It was time to listen to the storm inside of her lungs. She released it; the scream poured out of her and filled the cabin, cracking the “crack-proof” windows and shooting small shards of glass everywhere. She barely noticed it against her own skin. Was it enough? Regan looked at the huddled forms before her. More, the coyote demanded. She pushed her lungs further, deeper, and the scream continued until finally, she was breathless.

Regan panted, trying to see what state the threat was in. The coyote didn’t want her to. It wanted her to take the bones and run. She turned to the table and reclaimed her skunk and raccoon bones, making a beeline for the door. But as she darted by one of the humans, she slowed. Go. She stopped. Go. The coyote howled and thrashed and pushed. Regan grabbed onto the door frame, and looked toward the human she’d screamed at. Leah. The name entered her thoughts for just long enough that she could latch onto it with her fingertips. She was hurt. Of course. Because – Regan choked, a lump lodging itself in her throat. Go now. Regan slowly shook her head no.

Leah had said I need you to promise… the lump in Regan’s throat grew, and the bones fell from her hands. “I–” The brief attempt to speak came out a screech. The coyote could deny her this much. She would not be permitted to answer with a promise. It filled her head with an unearthly howl, and Regan clenched the doorframe harder but didn’t stop looking at Leah. If she tried to speak, it would be a scream. So she wouldn’t. Once more, slowly, Regan nodded – this time a yes, I promise.

Things were happening fast, questions and answers coming out quicker then Lilian knew how to really address them. Still she had nodded lightly to Nicole on making sure she got out of the circle in time. She wouldn’t put the other in that situation again, if she could help it. It hadn’t occurred to Lil that everyone didn’t know what was going on, but it was getting to the point where they just needed to trust each other and do it.

Before Lil could say anything there was horrible noise, causing her to buckle under the sound her hands automatically putting her hands over her ears for a sound she really couldn’t hear . Stumbling backwards she felt the scream more than heard it. It knocked the wind out of her and for a moment she couldn’t think.

After a moment though, she saw Leah go up and try to talk to Regan and Lil wanted to warn her to get back. Whatever this was wasn’t good. Without a thought Lil held onto her knife harder as she tried to get closer to the Librarian. She wanted to distract the ghost, get it angry at her and not attacking the other, but Lil wasn’t sure if she could do so and not get the noise to come back. Shaking she decided to go closer.

“Regan - the spirit in Regan. I know something awful happened to you, and I’m going to help you,” Lil said calmly, one of her hands behind her back gesturing at the other two to come closer. Hoping that they would know that they might need to pull Regan back into the cabin. “Do you want to move on? You’re making a mound in the woods, why? Are you trying for a proper burial? Did you want a proper right of departure?” Lil was babbling slightly trying more gently to get the ghost to focus on her and away from Leah. It wasn’t the approach she normally took, but maybe it would be worth it. “Is that why you have all of these bones?”

No matter how many times Leah read about a Banshee scream… no matter how many times she imagined what it might sound like in person, hearing it was 1,000 times worse than she imagined it. Even with the earplugs she had them all put in as they were walking toward the cabin, it was all encompassing, and despite it lasting for less than a minute, it felt never ending. She doubled over, her hands clasping at her ears in a desperate yet futile attempt at protection. Where was Nicole? Where were the others? When it was about halfway done, she felt a tell-tale snap in her chest. She let out an involuntary scream of pain, but it was indistinguishable over Regan.

She was sure it was going to kill them. But somehow, there was an end. At least, she thought it was over. Her eyes were ringing- an awful, high pitched sound that seemed to rush through her head like a train. A hand came down to grip her chest, confirming that yes, her rib did crack during the scream. She groaned, barely hearing herself as her ears tried to come back to Earth. She could not stand up, at least not swiftly, but she lifted her head to find Regan.

They locked eyes, and there was a glimpse of her old friend again. Tears started to fill her eyes, and then Regan nodded. It was all Leah needed to spring everything into action.

“She’s ready. She won’t do it again”, she yelled out. She wasn’t even sure if anyone could hear her. A swarm of relief was swelling in her chest, and she hoped it wasn't misplaced delusion from the broken rib. “Grab her. We need to start the ritual now.”

Leah warned them. They tried to prepare in case of a scream. But Nicole soon realized there was no preparation effective enough for a banshee’s scream. She had nothing to compare it with. She shrunk, arms going up to cover both ears and head, but it wasn’t only that. The waves vibrated against her clothes, it made her blood pump faster. Glass shattered everywhere. The logs creaked dangerously. Had Regan kept going, she was certain the cabin would’ve buried them all. There was no silence when she finally stopped screaming, only a high pitched ringing and the stupor preventing her from going back into action.

Heart in her throat, she reached for Leah, who took the hit the hardest. It was exactly the type of situation she wanted to stop. Was she hurt? Mission was over if she was. Regan could exorcise herself for all she cared. Leah, being Leah, was already commanding them to do something. But her words didn’t register clearly. It was hard to overcome the ringing in her ears. Or feel like she was back in her body again. With the few words she caught, and the pointed looks, she understood the message. Lil needed them to restrain the woman. Leah thought the woman was ready to be restrained. She glanced at Ari, wondering if she’d join her, before she yanked Regan by the arm, gentleness forgone. She’d throw her over her shoulders if she put any more resistance. Yes, she wasn't easy to handle, but she was easy to overpower. She kicked the first chair she could find to face them, forcing Regan down, and looked back for instructions.

The panic that had begun to rise in her was only exacerbated by the vibrations the scream sent pulsing through her body. Ari was still frozen in place outside the cabin, hands somehow managing to find her ears as glass fell over her like a harsh rain. The knicks in her skin were nothing compared to the ache it sent through her body and the ring in her ears, but even that couldn’t cut through the worry. She should have been paying more attention, her being here wasn’t good for anyone, but it was already too late.

Do you think I’d let you down?

Maybe not intentionally.

Words that hadn’t even been technically spoken played in her head over the continued dull ring in her ears. Ari knew she’d fucked this up just as badly as she had with Sammy. She was letting everyone here down. She was letting Kaden down and it made her stomach turn, but heavy feet followed behind Nicole as if on autopilot. Regan made a promise of some sort so it had to be okay now. It had to be. There was no way shit like this could just keep happening. Whatever ritual they were here to perform was happening now and she had to make sure Leah and Lil weren’t hurt. “Right, yeah, ready,” she responded, but her voice remained hollow as she followed behind the others.

Lilian tried to move quickly, knowing that time was probably not on any of their sides, but she still winced as she tried to right herself. She was used to heavy bones, but she wasn’t sure the last time she felt this shaken by something. She felt a little more human and fragile then she really wanted to at the moment. She almost waited to hear the responses from Regan - the spirits in here more accurately, but she wasn’t sure how much she could reason with a ghost anyway. Either they would let her do this, or they would fight. Either way she was going to get them out of Regan.

So when Nicole grabbed Regan, Lil went in behind the two and almost automatically said to put Regan into a chair before seeing that Nicole did it already , “Thanks - Yeah chair is perfect.” Without hesitation Lil moved to draw a circle around Regan, careful not to step into the circle or put down her knife. She didn’t want to threaten the other, but she didn’t want to have her jump either. So she didn’t point the knife at her, but kept it in her hand nonetheless the tip facing her in her hand.

“Nicole - you need to move a little ” Lil said softly to the other hoping that she could hear her and wanting her not to get the salt on her. She might have asked Ari to move in, but she hadn’t heard the other in a second and she didn’t want to waste time.

It happened so quickly – a woman’s arms encircling her and tossing her haphazardly into the chair. She attempted to kick. She attempted to scream. But her motions were futile and her scream amounted to nothing more than a pathetic mewl. Regan felt the hard clunk of the chair, the careless way her wings were bent across its back, and the knowledge that the precious cargo inside of her backpack had nearly been damaged.

It was all unforgivable. But she would not allow herself to feel anything else.

Regan eyed the knife, then looked at Lil. “Iron? Doesn’t look as sharp as the cold iron daggers I’m used to. Unimpressive.” She gazed past Lil, scanning Leah, Ari, and the Other. “What is this about? Clearly there’s been some mistake. I mean, you think you’re talking to a spirit? Breaking in? Forcing me into a chair? You do not deserve answers. I do.” Regan wasn’t sure what to believe. The word believe was hardly in her vocabulary. But this, whatever it was, was insulting on all levels, and the coyote wanted to tear itself out of its bony confines. It was afraid. More than that, it still sensed something – and it was more than just what was occurring here. There was another threat. Regan adjusted herself on the chair in the small amount of wiggle room she was afforded. Her wings flicked with agitation, and she carefully positioned her backpack so as not to damage what she was meant to protect.

The skull. It was all about the skull, everything was about the skull, she had to protect–

Scream.

Regan’s chest heaved, and she opened her mouth, attempting to summon even a wisp of what she had before, but her lungs were failing her. Sweat dripped from her temples as she choked out nothing but an unbecoming yelp. Scream. Now. “I’m trying,” Regan growled, immediately regretting the display of irritability. The promise would not allow it. But the coyote wasn’t one to give up. Not in its first lifetime, and not in any of the following ones. Certainly not in death.

The coyotes came, all twelve, and they had never looked so low and so mean. They appeared by the chair, trying to force space between the skull and their assailants. Foamy spittle sprayed across the wooden floor, and stiff hairs bristled along their backs. Regan knew what they probably didn’t: the coyotes would only buy time. They couldn’t kill. She needed to think. And perhaps, even more than her connection to death, that was why the skull had chosen her. She would not fail it.

The pain in Leah’s side would not dull out. Instead, it sparked with every subtle movement, and flashed with every breath. The nod was barely a breath of a promise, but it was apparently enough to keep any more screams at bay. She winced at the sight of Regan being thrown around, cognizant of the vials of tears still tucked safely in her bag should they end up needing them. “You’re severely underestimating my intelligence- and our friendship, for that matter, if you expect me to believe there’s not a coyote spirit hijacking your own right now”, she groaned out, pushing against her legs to help herself finally stand up fully. “I will answer any questions you might have when we’re done, but it’s been pretty clear to me that up until now you didn’t want to talk. Have you changed your mind? Are you ready to talk, Regan?”

She was about to warn the others to be careful with Regan because of how uncomfortable she looked as they were working to tie her up, but something about how the banshee was moving caught Leah’s eyes. She wasn’t adjusting herself because she was uncomfortable, she realized. No, she was adjusting herself because she was trying not to harm whatever was in her bag.

The only thing that might be important enough was the very skull they were here to destroy.

Leah’s mind was racing, and Regan seemingly responded out loud to someone who wasn’t there. It was an unneeded confirmation that there was something else going on here. She didn’t have too much time to think about it though, because she was suddenly thrown back off her feet. She had never seen anything like the twelve seething wisps of coyotes that filled the room before them, and it filled her with such a wave of dread and incompetence that she wasn’t prepared for. The descriptions from Nicole and Kaden about them had been apt, but it wasn’t comforting in the slightest. This was why she was worried about this ritual and exorcism and ritual. She had pulled pieces of similar situations when preparing for this ritual. She had no idea what they were up against, and so she had no idea if their methods were going to work.

Lil raised her eyebrow slightly at the comment about the knife still trying to concentrate on preparing for the ritual, and not putting Nicole near the salt. She wasn’t quite sure what would happen, but she didn’t want her to be hurt. “Not sure what you mean by that, but trust me it’ll do what it needs to do.” After all, she didn’t need it to be sharp.

Before she could do anything else she saw the ghosts like a howl. Like before, they seemed to be coyotes and at one point Lil thought they were. They weren’t something from beyond trapped here, and there was something like a twinge of sadness to see them. Lil couldn’t tell how they died by looking at them, whoever had killed the Coyote was careful, but the spirits didn’t seem right either with too many of them working together. Cursing under her breath Lil pointed her knife to the ground and got ready to throw some of the salt at the wolves. She could try and banish them, but she wasn’t sure if she’d get up afterwards which would lead to this process to be longer. So she moved between Regan and Nicole to finish the circle scrambling up to get into the circle to replace Nicole and keep Regan in the chair. “Hey Ari or Leah - come, come help me keep her down. I can’t do the ritual inside here. The ghosts shouldn’t be able to cross. Nicole, if you still got that knife I gave you, now’s a great time to use it.”

The scene around Ari moved in slow motion as she stayed rooted a good distance away. This was the last place she should be and she’d been so absentminded as they made their way there she didn’t realize until it was too late. For a moment, everything sounded muffled though that could have been the effect of the scream. It wasn’t until she heard her name that she made any sort of motion. She shook her head, trying to figure out what was being asked of her. Instinctively, she made a move toward Lil to what was asked. Leah had taken the brunt of the scream and someone needed to help. On the chance that Regan asked something of her, she could fight it, she would accept the consequences. Her own carelessness was what got her here. “Got it,” she said, trying to sound more certain than she actually was.

Ari approached the chair Regan was seated in from behind and grabbed a hold of the banshee’s shoulders firmly, putting a good deal of her strength into the motion while trying to dodge fluttering wings.

Lil was scrambling to draw some sort of circle on the cabin floor, and the others seemed to be under the impression that they could hold her down onto the chair. “I owe you nothing,” Regan said, trying to tear away from them, eyes going black as fury filled her. What did they think they were doing? How dare they touch her? How dare they make her coyote feel such terror after lifetimes of suffering? They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. The coyotes would – but something stopped them. Several had bowed down to lunge at the intruders, but it was as if they froze, became objects. A couple of them then pointed their muzzles toward the door, sensing something that Regan couldn’t. What could possibly be more important than this? She asked inwardly, hoping her coyote could supply an answer, and explain that the two of them were not truly threatened.

The only response was a savage growl.

The coyotes vanished in the same manner they had appeared. Seconds. Regan knew she only had seconds to come up with a plan to protect both herself, and the skull, whose judgment seemed to be erring for the first time. And she felt… alone. Why? She had the skull. But it only offered pained howls and furious snarling. No. She was on her own. And because of that, she had even greater responsibility not to fail.

An idea struck her. The invisible strings that Lydia once spoke of – ready to be tugged and plucked when the time came to collect. Regan hissed and squirmed away from Leah’s hands, and looked only at Ariana. Her voice was cold and stony when she spoke, and for a second, right when it hit her ears, she barely recognized it. “It’s time. Stop them by any means necessary.”

When she’d seen the ghost coyotes, her hand itched to reach for the bag of salt she knew was in the pocket of her jacket, but Ari kept her hands firmly on Regan’s shoulder. She refused to look at the banshee or process the shuffled noises around her. Her focus shifted entirely to the feeling of Regan’s shoulder under her hand and how she was cooler than Ari had expected. How each flutter of her wings sent a flap of cold air toward the wolf. It could only do so much though. She felt the sharp iciness of Regan’s eyes on her and she had no choice but to hear the words. Stop them by any means necessary.

Her heart dropped and everything around her became static. Any means necessary. Ari had to believe Regan didn’t truly know how dangerous an ask that was. “Regan,” she said through a strained voice, “You don’t want to do that. I won’t be able to stop myself from hurting you either.” But her bones ached under her skin, demanding her to move, to do something. She took a few slow steps back to put some distance between herself and the others. A sheen of sweat was already coating her skin as she fought what the promise demanded of her.

Rooted in place, Ari heaved in short breaths that burned. It felt like her body was moving forward without her, ripping her apart in the process. She had to fight it, she couldn’t let the strings of the promise pull her. She wouldn’t hurt anyone here, she couldn’t, but there was only so long she could suppress the side of her that was more wolf-like. Ari knew she didn’t want to hurt them, the wolf only knew it was in pain and needed to bite back. The claws came out first, against her will and she still resisted. The searing pain in her now more paw like hands only grew the longer she tried to keep herself in control of her own form, but it was a wasted effort.

Fur sprouted along her body as her body contorted and shifted into its lupine shape. Ari could hear the cracking of bones and tearing of clothes before the room no longer became full of her friends, but her next meal. Yellow eyes scanned the room, picking their prey. Drool hung off large jowls as the wolf let out a low growl as it began circling the women in the room, ready to pounce at whoever moved next.

Leah wanted to bark out that the skull must have been her bag. That Regan was adjusting over it and trying to protect it and its very proximity might have been the thing that was corrupting her mind. But Regan would have heard, and they needed to be 3 steps ahead of her if they wanted this to work. Without some sort of mind communication, that meant Leah would have to get the skull from behind Regan herself. She was glad that Ari elected to go stand by Regan, because any movements at all, sudden or not, shot sharp pains through her chest. It was enough, anyway, that they had to deal with the coyote ghosts- Or at least it would have been, if they didn’t seem to get distracted by something and scurry off.

It had to have been the other group that drew their attention, but to Leah, that wasn’t good news. To save Regan, they needed the other group just as distraction free as they needed themselves. She didn’t have too much time to dwell on the thought, though, because what was going on in front of her was much more terrifying.

She had not registered that Regan had spoken directly to Ari. She had barely even registered the cold, calculated voice that came out of her friend. Instead, all she could focus on was the seething, searing transformation in front of her. Her breath hitched, and for the first time in the last few minutes, it was not due to the pain in her ribs. Her mind flashed back to the Alcher wolf, to the two of them tumbling down her stairs as each of them tried to fight for the upper hand. To lying, broken and bruised at the bottom, sure she was going to die. She couldn’t breath or think. Her eyes searched desperately around the room, trying to find an out or a solution or anything that might prove that this could still be a success instead of a jumble of obstacles that were impossible to overcome.

And then her eyes landed on Nicole’s.

Ariana transformed into a monstrous beast, coerced by some sort of banshee power. It was no longer their friend, but a ferocious creature ready to rip them to shreds with no remorse. And Nicole wanted to focus on what a horrendous oversight was to bring the girl along with them, but Leah’s gaze found hers across the room.

Leah was looking at her. The woman who always had one last trick up her sleeve was seeking her help. Which only meant they were truly, undeniably fucking screwed. Her limbs trembled as she held one hand up, but the emotionless tone she used masked her fear perfectly. “Regan” she looked between Lil and Leah. “Focus on her. Do it, quick. Finish the exorcism” she commanded, taking a step forward. “I’ll— I’ll… I—” She’ll what? Nicole felt none of the bold determination the situation required, only the sheer panic wrapping around her ribcage. This was it. How they all died. Her airway constricted as she bore into savage yellow eyes.

There won’t be a second time. A promise Nicole slurred every night for a year as she lay on unfamiliar curbsides, more alcohol than blood in her veins. More animal than human back then. Guilt ridden and angry with herself. A promise often followed by a plea: For fate to take her too, and the universe to show her mercy. Never again she’d turn into the beast that took everything from her. It was her mantra, repeated through clenched teeth and salty tears until it became her essence. What helped her out the quicksands of grief. The spirit had coiled within her plenty of times after that, threatened to take over, but each time she prevailed. Control like a chokehold. Never once let the jaguar win.

There wouldn’t be a second time, but Lil didn’t deserve this after selflessly offering her help time and time again. No second time, but Ari shouldn’t have to carry the burden of ending three lives. Leah shouldn’t have to be traumatized again by a beast. There wasn't supposed to be a second time except, brown eyes met feral yellow, and the spirit clawed desperate against her ribs, ready to be freed at last.

Nicole thought of her father, of his actions as he faced his reckoning. Giving her the best shot at survival. She stood there, proof of his sacrifice. She had to give them the same chance, whether it took a year, or five or a decade of her life. Her gaze sought Leah, wondering if she'd ever see her again. But if it was the last time she saw her then— fuck, she wanted her image burned into her mind. In the end, all she wanted was to stop being torn apart every time she found something worth living for. She thought she’d be beat down already, numb. Yet the unfairness of life filled her lungs with rage. Her muscles burned. This time, she let it happen. Something bigger was required. Something fiercer. She was something. It was something. She said she'd get them an exit plan.

There was no exit, but she was the plan.

Flesh tore and bones shifted, but the jaguar ripped through her so fast and so fierce that she barely suffered. It came out bigger, angrier, more threatening than it had at seventeen. No intent on running this time, but set to kill instead. The thundering roar vibrated against the floor, and it was the only warning before the jaguar lunged towards the wolf. Two forces of nature clashed, teeth and claws out to destroy. Humans forgotten as they battled for dominance. The wolf struck first, but the jaguar recovered quickly, claws slicing its upper body. The wood buckled and cracked beneath them, their beastly bodies thrashing about with furious strength, too big to fit through the door frame without damaging it. As a result, it was torn out as the beasts freed themselves from the cabin’s containment. Out in the open, their fight turned into a thrilling chase.

Lil’s jaw stealed as she heard words around her she didn’t quite understand. She was used to being a human in a room full of supernaturals, but sometimes there was a bit of her that remembered all too well she was a human. One swipe and her life was over in this room, and part of her recognized that she should be scared of that. After all, she was usually calculated with situations she couldn’t handle. She bowed to a demon for Christ's sake knowing that she couldn’t do anything dead.

Still she promised. Lil promised to get Regan out of this, and she’d already resolved herself to this fate. She hadn’t done so to any one person nor was it a binding promise , but when she said she could do this she meant it. She would do it. Maybe the noises in the background of people fighting turning more into supernatural creatures might disturb her. Maybe she wanted to go help them and not be stuck in a ritual she couldn’t be taken out of until it was done, but she wouldn’t be a help either. She had to trust that she wasn’t about to get attacked. She had to hope whatever was happening to Ari would dissipate if she did this. She had to trust that Nicole was handling this as she told them to focus on the ritual.

So with a grip on her knife Lil kneeled down and struck the outside of the circle and said softly to Leah, “I’m probably going to pass out after this. You’re going to want to break the skull when I’m done.”

With that Lil looked at Regan for a moment resigning herself to a ritual that wasn’t going to be pleasant. Still she said softly with a hint of pity she normally didn’t have for ghosts, to the ghost she was fairly sure was still in Regan, “I am going to give you as proper of a funerary rite as I can. I will try to make sure your bones are buried.” Maybe it was a sympathy that the coyote didn’t deserve after the havoc, but with the bits Lil could put together there was something tragic with the ghost she couldn’t help but want to put to rest. Even if her ears were still ringing, and her bones vibrating, she could at least try to do the right thing.

With that Lil started the ritual, her voice ringing out clear as she started speaking in Latin, her knife turning hot quickly.

Regan expected Ariana to simply throw herself in front of her. The presence of a child there would have stopped the others in their tracks. Or perhaps she would leap onto them, limbs flailing like a wild animal as they refused to kick her off, not wanting to risk hurting her. No. That was not what happened. Ariana was shaky when she looked at Regan, her eyes pleading with her to take it back. Moments later, Regan understood why. Where Ariana once stood, then bowed, then writhed, there was a snarling beast. Regan’s mouth dropped open. How– no. That wasn’t – but the skull pushed all thoughts of the impossible away. It doesn’t matter. It managed to snarl as much, even in its nearly blind rage. She knew it was right. The beast was less handsome than her own favorite predatory mammal, but more useful at the moment. It scanned the room as if on a hunt, and Regan got to work trying to wiggle out of the chair, singularly focused and trying to block out the wolf-thing in the room. It didn’t want her right now. But the Other was up to something. The way Leah looked at her. The demands she gave. Regan grit her teeth, trying with renewed effort to get away. The scream she coughed up withered and died before it left her mouth.

And then there was a second beast, this one a jaguar, and it lunged at the first beast, cartwheeling and clawing toward the front of the cabin. Regan’s stomach hardened like a rock. This was bad. Beyond possible, and incredibly bad. She was failing the skull. She said she would never do that.

That was – Regan couldn’t think of anything else. What else did she have? There were the daggers. So many of them in here, but none within reach. She strained, especially as Lil spoke of the skull. They knew. Leah. Of course. She still couldn’t make sense of what this whole thing was, though. The circles, the Latin, the bags of miscellania brought in. Regan craned her neck at Lil, eyes narrowed. And what Lil said made her run cold. “You’re going to give me what?” She spat, lips bared back. “Funerary rites? Bury my bones? What does that– you’re going to kill me? Is that it? You think you can kill me?” The coyote was still pulled elsewhere. She didn’t understand it. But when she needed its support now, it was nowhere to be found. “It’s not– whatever you think you’re doing, whatever homeopathic nonsense this– Leah thought there was a spirit in me, whatever that means. You have it wrong.” Her bag grazed against the back of the chair, and her heart skipped a beat. The coyote still seemed distracted, in another place. Part of her yearned to mention the skull, that it was the skull, they wanted the skull, she wasn’t goddamn possessed, but then she felt the waves of death coming off of it, and all was forgiven. Lil was already chanting, so Regan tried to catch Leah’s eyes. Something. Maybe she could manage something. It was the pained way Leah held herself, and the sharp breathing that sank in. She had done that. “Leah,” Regan started, an apology on her tongue. But the skull had many times insisted apologies were not given to those who were inferior to you. She swallowed it back. And the coyote, even in its relative absence, had the final say. “You still don’t know anything.”

When Leah had looked to Nicole, she didn’t know what kind of help she expected. Perhaps a calming gaze or some reassuring words, or even a quick way to solve the new Ariana wolf debacle. But what came of her pleading was so unexpected that Leah almost couldn’t catch her breath at the sight of it. Nicole was being ripped apart by the Jaguar inside, and Leah couldn’t take her eyes off the sight as she watched it take over.

They hadn’t had a chance to practice. They should have taken the time to practice having Nicole try to change in a situation that wasn’t stress induced. Because that had to be why she changed for so long the first time, right? Five years gone… and then another several being lost trying to find her way back to who she was. Leah couldn’t bear five years. Not when they had only just begun. But then, this was different from the first time, it had to be. All those years ago, Nicole was basically still a child. She hadn’t expected to turn, she hadn’t even tried to. But Nicole’s eyes had locked on hers before she changed, deliberately and with finality. She knew what she was doing. She wanted this, and maybe it was the smartest way to save them. Leah couldn’t even gather how she felt about Nicole and Ari tumbling out of the cabin, because they had to continue helping Regan. Because if the exorcism didn’t work, all of this carnage would be for nothing. It had to work.

It had to work.

She nodded at Lil’s request, eyeing Regan sitting in the chair. It wouldn’t be easy to get the bag from her, not when she was practically sitting on it. “Not your bones”, she told Regan, getting closer. Her steps were slow and cautious, and her hand held her side the entire time she inched forward. “She’s speaking with the coyote.” Lil was deep into her ritual now, so it was practically just her and Regan in the room. Well, her and Regan and whatever was corrupting Regan’s mind. Was it dormant? Did it leave with the ghost coyotes a few moments ago? Regan was still riddled with anger and confusion, but there was a mere moment where their eyes caught when Leah knew it was the real Regan again. Her friend’s expression pleaded with her; though whether the pleading was apologetic or desperation for help she couldn’t tell. But regardless, Leah gave her a shaky nod. “I do know”, she whispered, her voice barely heard under Lil’s chanting. She was still inching closer, her eyes traveling between Regan’s and the bag behind her. “I know this is scary and confusing. I know none of this seems like it can be possible.” She hoped to fate that the rope holding her in place was strong enough. Tentatively, she reached out, putting her hand on Regan’s. Regan’s skin was a stark, cold contrast to her own, something she always wondered if Regan ever realized. Or, was it like so many other things with Regan, that she found it easier to explain the strange away than face it head on.

Leah assumed Lil was nearing the end of the ritual, because her chants were getting louder and more demanding. She had to do this now, if ever. “I may not know everything, Regan. But there’s a hell of a lot I do know. And I know that skull has to be the cause of all this.”

By the time she finished speaking, her free hand was already on the bag behind Regan, and she took the opportunity of distraction to yank it out from behind her. The skull clattered inside the bag, and just as Lil finished her chant, Leah pulled it out and slammed it onto the ground. For a moment, she stared at it, trying to understand how so much power and corruption can lie dormant in such a small vessel. They needed to destroy it for good, so that even after Lil’s exorcism, no harm could come from it again.

So she stared at it, finally letting all the seething anger she held for it over the last few months release. Her anger for lost friends, for people too blind to see the beauty of what they truly were, and even for all those months Regan lost being a muse to something none of them quite understood. Just like when she destroyed the tree, she was struck with how a town full of such beauty and wonder could also hold such a dark, sinister underbelly. It wasn’t going to work. Her fire hadn’t behaved properly in months. But somehow, miraculously, she watched in front of her as anger turned to flame, and the skull was finally set ablaze.

The skull, the skull, the skull. Regan thrashed back, trying to twist away from Leah enough that she couldn’t find purchase on the bag. But she was stuck, and the coyote had abandoned her, and Lil’s chants rose far above the scuffling chair and her failed screams of desperation. All that came was more hacking, and for a moment, it struck Regan how much she had been relying on the scream and the coyote – two things that should have felt utterly alien to her. To anyone. What happened? But Leah’s hands found the bag, and her thoughts were dashed, refocused on the tender bones cocooned in there. “Do not touch it,” Regan growled, twisting more. She couldn’t reach them. Couldn’t reach Leah. Leah’s eyes seemed to say that she couldn’t reach her, either. “You don’t deserve to–” Regan hollered, but it was too late.

The sound of the skull shattering into the floor of her cabin sent tears to her eyes. While it remained mostly intact, parts of the parietals fragmented and flew off. The already-fragile maxillae were ground to mere dust. “Stop!” Regan screeched, but it wasn’t the kind of screech she needed, and Leah’s shoe was firm against the frontal bone and– “Stop! Don’t hurt it! It didn’t do anything wrong, it just–” Leah’s eyes were glued to the skull, her skull, and Regan knew she didn’t have long to plead. “The coyote doesn’t deserve this. It didn’t deserve any of what happened. Please don’t hurt it. It–” But Leah almost seemed to be elsewhere. Regan didn’t understand what was on her face.

Until she did. The anger was unmistakable. The kind of anger she sometimes wished she could still feel, but it had to be the first to go, the first to sacrifice for her control. Leah’s burned red and hot. It almost smelled like smoke. And then the first of maybe-actual-smoke wafted upward, a gray hair becoming a curling, sizzling tendril, and it smoldered against her nostrils, and the panic inside her screamed where she couldn’t. It was a lifetime ago – the morgue going up in flames, the smell of burning skin and hair, the cough she had for weeks after they yanked her out. And powerless, all she could do was watch the fire engulf what she loved once again, as the chanting rose in a sinister arc and the smoke burned her watery eyes.

Lil didn’t like the commotion around her when she did a ritual, but to be fair it wasn’t as if it was ever a silent endeavor. Usually though, it wasn’t this chaotic. Ghosts rarely wanted to exit a host, especially ones that wanted to finish what they were doing. She wanted to say that she was doing the right thing, that the spirit was distorted, that it needed to move beyond. She wasn’t hurting it - she’d never cause pain to a ghost despite not particularly liking them. Hell, she was pretty sure the person was the one that ended up feeling the pain of the exorcism, not the ghost. She wanted to say a lot to calm down the two in front of her, but the ritual didn’t allow for deviation.

Her words rose higher, Lil’s hands gripping the knife as it became warmer and warmer the feeling of temporary power making her bones feel more steady. She tried not to think of the fact it was going to hurt worse when it was done. Her eyes closed, trying to block out the pleading and the want to assure Regan she wasn’t trying to hurt her. She was trying to tell the Coyote that it was okay. Instead she finally opened her eyes looking at Regan - or past her really for a moment as the words came to an end, “ -Coyote spiritus, tempus est ire. Relinque! Anima tua in pace requiescat. Relinquere Regan et requiescere.”

For a moment the dagger felt like a warm fire instead of unbearably hot, Lil thinking that if she could see her final words that they would be golden. It was different than normal, and if she could think about it for a moment Lil might have wondered if her will had gotten stronger. She doubted that though.

She couldn’t see the ghosts, not sure if they were still here but knowing that the rope was snapped between the spirit and Regan. For a moment it felt still for Lil, even if she could see Regan turning and pleading. Her body felt weightless and strong, like she wasn’t quite here and instead on a different plane. It should have scared her but it felt peaceful for a moment - until it slammed back into her. Her dagger turned ice cold as she struggled to keep a hold of it. Whatever adrenaline she had left her body as she suddenly felt the scream rattling in her bones again. Folding over for a moment she could smell smoke - and what she could imagine was ash.

Lil tried to speak, but what came out was more of a rough whisper than anything the shout taking out the bits of her normal voice. “ The - Spirit is at rest. The coyote - I don’t think he’s in pain anymore. - Uh, I don't think I can get up.” She hoped whatever had caused Ari and Nicole to start fighting might ease up now, so one of them would get her back to her car at least.

The Latin, the smoke stuck inside her nostrils, the sensation that something dear to her was slowly peeling its presence out of the room, out of this world. Regan hadn’t felt so overwhelmed in her confusion since the day her dad died and everything changed. The rope dug into her and she could feel contusions forming from her thrashing against the chair, but what else could she do? The skull was destroyed. Dust. The coyote – she could barely feel it, even its rage. It was a howl turned hiss turned whimper, and it reminded Regan of its past deaths, the desperate animal noises of so many deaths it didn’t deserve. And now it would have another, also underserved, all because she had failed.

Regan tried to scream, her voice rising into a screech as the coyote’s very existence receded to nothing. The room, her head, her duty – it was all so empty. She wasn’t sure at which point she was able to scream again, but it meant this was over, didn’t it? That thought gave her no pleasure, and only fostered more bitterness toward the people who were responsible. The scream changed once again into a sob. One, then another. And the rope was cut, and concern filled the eyes of the traitor. Regan glanced toward the floor at the other one. She didn’t understand what just happened, but it had sapped most of Lil’s energy, clearly. Regan didn’t care. She didn’t. Traitors.

“Leave.” Regan commanded, not able to wrench her eyes away from the pile of bone ash on the floor. She was sure Leah was hurt. Lil was exhausted. The traitors who couldn’t understand the coyote wasn’t an enemy. She had people to make amends with – Kaden, Emilio, Metzli, Ariana – so many. But right now, all she could think about was the ash, and the silence in her skull. The coyote was gone, somehow vanquished. Another death it did nothing to deserve. And where did this leave her?

Regan barely noticed as Leah and Lil limped out together. She was no more alone.

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tragidean · 2 years ago

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depraved [3.1k] (ao3) Dean/Demon OMC for your Halloween enjoyment!

His cassock doesn’t fit. Hasn’t fit the last three times he’s worn it, but it’s the only thing that makes him convincing. A badge, he can fake, but his face always gives him way. Too young, too pretty, despite his callused fingers and the scars on his arms. But the cassock is a sign of faith. Normal people wouldn't fake wearing the collar outside of Halloween or an incredibly niche porno.

Though, Dean has never been clocked as normal, and the cassock works. It gets him into archives whenever he needs it, and it eases the minds of victim’s families, knowing that someone will supposedly pray for them. The last time Dean prayed, Sam was sick with colic and his father was nowhere to be found for the second day in a row. Seventeen years after the fact, and he still can’t bring himself to try, knowing no one is listening. Knowing no one cares.

But the thought counts, and if it brings some solace to the grieving, then he can oblige. Prayer doesn’t fix everything, though—the book in his interior pocket does. Stepping in through the doorway of the sanctuary, Dean closes the double doors behind him, locking the deadbolts with a flick of the wrist. Inside, he finds the pews empty and the choir pit quiet. Moonlight streams through the stained glass windows, casting an array of muted colors onto the red carpet. The resident priest has gone home for the evening, the confessional locked and empty.

Leaving Dean alone, face to face with a circle of blood seared into the nave floor. Of all the devil’s traps his father wrote down in his journal, this one resembles none of them, the lines too sharp and jagged, the circle too precise. The parishioners were wrong—a ghost isn’t terrorizing the town, but a demon someone tried to summon. Probably some bored teenagers, or a witch with more skill in her pinky than Dean has in his entire body. Kneeling before the circle, Dean swipes at the blood, rubbing the dried remains between his fingers. Not fresh, but fairly recent.

Meaning, the thing is still close by.

“Supposed to be a ghost,” he says to himself. He stands on shaky knees and swallows the fear beginning to claw its way up his throat. Ghosts don’t haunt people away from their death site—ghosts don’t chase people away from a house of worship, but this one does. No one has died yet, but the fear is there, and Dean gives it another few days before someone launches an all-out assault on the supposed ‘ghost,’ which can only lead to a disaster.

“Alright.” Dean claps his hands and reaches into his pocket. The worn leather of John’s journal feels good in his hands, cold despite the warmth of the sanctuary. At some point, John wrote down an exorcism near the back of the book, his handwriting immaculate but the Latin foreign, no matter how hard he studies. Sam knows the language better—but Sam isn’t here, and Dean has to finish another one of the jobs his father left for him, with no help whatsoever.

Feet planted, Dean holds the journal in his hands, and waits. To see if anyone emerges from behind the altar, to see if someone walks through the side door or breaks through the glass, none of which happen. For a short while, he stands and waits, until the fear in his stomach crests and his lip wobbles. “Come on,” he mutters. The night moves without a sound. The wind doesn’t blow, the coyotes don’t howl, the walls don’t creak. “I know you’re here, man, you gotta go. Dead or alive, I don’t care, but people—they’re gonna burn this place down if you don’t beat it.”

Nothing. Dean hangs his head, knuckles white as he clings to the journal. He can’t exorcise thin air. He can’t do anything—

The pulpit creaks.

continue reading on ao3

#my writings #dean/omc fic #happy halloween let's get dean fucked!!#dean winchester monster fucker rise!

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amatchinwater · 3 years ago

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I can't think of any warnings for this. Uhh..maybe mild blood and drug use.

This is actually a direct continuation of The Midnight Game :)

Exorcism

“Theo calm down, we’ll get him back,” Josh tries to put a hand on the still roaring Alpha’s shoulder. But Theo is too pissed. Too hurt. Damn near feral and he whips around and punches the raiju right in his nose. Blood spurts out instantly with the telltale crunch of bone breaking beneath his fist.

“Just a game, huh?” Theo yells, the rest of his Betas backing away from the tidal wave of fury. The Alpha runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “This is why you should listen when I tell you something doesn’t feel right. The fucking Nogitsune!” Mason stiffens at his words, sure having heard the horror stories by now. “Do you have any idea what that thing is going to do to him?”

Tracy risks a step closer, but the Alpha only snarls a warning at her. So she stays with Josh to help him clean the blood. “We have to tell Lydia. She’ll want to know.”

Shoving his hand in his pocket, Theo gets his phone to call the banshee. To tell her that he broke his promise to keep Stiles safe. Because with the Nogitsune back, Stiles is anything but safe. Unlocking his phone is a punch to his own face seeing the selfie they took while kissing. It just makes the wolf and coyote in him whine. Pushing the call button has never been more nerve wracking. And Theo had to call the sheriff to set up a sit down to ask if Stiles could move in with him.

“Someone better be dying, Theodore,” Lydia’s sleep filled voice answers the phone after the third ring. Hell, if Void makes a comeback, someone very well might be. A fact Theo’s painfully aware of as a hiccupped sob punches out of his chest. “Theo, what’s wrong?” The banshee sounds much more alert now as she fumbles around her room.

But Theo can’t speak. The brevity of the situation crashing into him like a bus. A cave in on his heart with no way out. There was a time the Alpha wanted Void Stiles. But not anymore. Not when his Stiles was so perfect and kept the chimera in check. Kept Theo grounded. Right now, with his other half gone, the Alpha feels like he can’t take a proper breath.

Thankfully Mason takes the phone from his hands as Corey wraps his arms around his Alpha who’s moments away from falling apart. The pack has never seen Theo cry, but they just might tonight. The two chimeras slide to the ground. The second Josh and Tracy cling to him too, the tears fall freely.

“The Nogitsune is back,” Mason says in a rush. “We played this game and now Stiles is possessed by it again. Lydia, he’s gone. Stiles left.”

Theo barely hears Lydia curse and say something that sounds like she’s leaving. But honestly, the Alpha can’t be too sure. Over his pounding heart the chimera can barely hear his own breath. He’s going to have a panic attack if he doesn’t get his shit under control. Someone lets go of him and rushes upstairs and before Theo knows it, one of Stiles’ pre-rolled joints and a lighter are thrusted into his hands by Tracy.

“Maybe it’ll help,” she smiles meekly, soft eyes saying the apology her mouth won’t. “Stiles always told me they help his anxiety. Try it, I know it affects us.”

Placing the rolled paper between his lips, Theo sparks up the lighter, burning the end of the joint. He inhales the harsh smoke into his lungs, holding it until his throat tickles before exhaling. Repeating the action twice before the drug starts to kick in. Slowing his wild heart as well as his mind. Mason hangs up the phone and hands it back to Theo.

Almost positive that it’s pointless, the Alpha opens his chat with Stiles. Theo sends a text that he’s sure will be ignored, but he has to ask anyway.

Just tell me he’s okay.

No response, but it was read. That’s something. Not much or nearly enough. But for Theo? It’s better than nothing.

He doesn’t move once while they wait for Lydia to show up. The Alpha finishes the joint and it thankfully did its job in calming him down. Though he hasn’t stopped staring at the candle Stiles left behind. Theo just manages to look up at Lydia when she storms into the house in her pajamas. The banshee’s anger is thick enough that it burns his tongue.

“Tell me what happened,” her tone is gentle though her face and posture suggest otherwise.

“Stiles wanted to play some game he found online. So we did,” Theo explains, pulling his knees to his chest. “Turns out when you summon a demon you should double check who exactly you’re summoning. The Nogitsune followed us around the house a-and I didn’t know that’s who it was.” The Alpha’s voice regains its panic, every word coming out faster. “So I stayed in the salt ring to follow the rules. The moment I realized what it was i-it was already too late. Stiles is gone a-and it’s my fault, Lydia, I’m so sorry. I’m so-”

“Theo,” the banshee grabs the hand he didn’t realize was harshly rubbing his leg. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure you tried to stop him several times. But you and I both know how stubborn he can be. Everything is going to be okay though. I promise.”

“How can you promise that?”

“We just need to get him back here,” Lydia gives his hand a squeeze. “And then you’re going to bite him. He can’t stay in Stiles’ body if we change the host.”

“But a Nogistune is still a fox,” the Alpha rebukes. Knowing with almost absolute certainty that’s what Stiles would turn into.

“Yes, but you can’t have two were-creatures inside of you. You all are just wild exceptions.” The banshee holds her hand out, “it worked before. Give me your phone, I’ll get him here.”

With some slight hesitation, Theo does. Watching Lydia furiously type away at the screen. Then a text chime comes in and his heart leaps. She turns the phone to face him and one single word stares him in the face. “He’s coming.” And all because she reminded the Nogitsune that Theo was once a monster. And would gladly become one again to stay with Stiles. It was a lie, but it worked.

The plan is for Corey to make him and Tracy invisible so that she can paralyze him. She promised nothing more than a nick. Once Stiles is down, Theo’s meant to bite him. They’re also hoping that by having Lydia visible it would distract the Nogitsune long enough. That’s the plan at least. Now it’s just a matter of execution.

With the front door left unlocked, Void- god Theo really hates that name now- is able to just walk right in. “Lydia,” the severe lack of emotion in Stiles’ voice crushes the Alpha’s heart. “How nice of you to join us. Tell me, will you be leaving with us too?”

“If that keeps Stiles safe, then yes.”

Void hums, placing a finger on his pursed lip. They’re concealed right by the recliner and the Nogitsune seems none the wiser. The banshee clears her throat, the sign, and Tracy lunges out and swipes at his neck and arm for good measure.

“Neat trick,” Void grabs her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. The Alpha can hear Josh’s growl from upstairs. “Did you think a simple cut was going to hurt me? Me?” With a humorless laugh, he tosses her aside. She lands with a painful thud beside the two invisible chimeras.

Spitting blood onto the wooden floor, “try kanima venom, dick,” Tracy groans, holding her ribs.

As if on cue, Void’s legs give out and he falls to the floor with a grunt. “Again? Really?”

Now that he’s paralyzed, Theo lets go of Corey’s hand, stepping out from behind the chair. He picks Stiles up and places him on the couch. “Anything I should know about?” He asks, grabbing Void’s arm and trying very hard not to look at him. Afraid he’ll break again if he does.

“Don’t let the firefly get away.”

His eyes bleed red and Void’s grow wide. “Wait! Theo,” he sounds like Stiles again. “Please, don’t do this. I-I like being human. Don’t turn me, please.” Amber eyes well with tears and the Alpha looks up. It freezes him on the spot.

“Theo,” Lydia snaps, “ignore him. The Nogitsune will say anything to stop you. I’ve seen it. If you want to save Stiles, bite him!”

Nodding dumbly, his fangs drop. Ignoring the terrified pleas that are killing him where he stands, Theo clamps down on Stiles’ arm. He roars though too numb to actually feel pain. No, he’s angry. When the Alpha lets go, Stiles turns blue and starts to gag. “Lydia…”

“It’s okay, Theo,” the banshee puts her hand on his shoulder, “it’s working.”

They watch as Stiles begins to cough wildly until a firefly pops out of his mouth. Without hesitation, Theo claps his hands around it. Ridding them of the demon fox once and for all. “Theo,” Stiles’ voice is rough and scratchy, but his. “You- you did it.”

The Alpha is pretty sure that’s what Stiles said. He can’t really be certain because he’s throwing himself at him. Tucking his nose in the crook of Stiles’ neck and inhaling sharply, Theo rumbles in his chest unable to help himself. “I’m sorry I had to bite you.” Guilt flooding through his veins fully realizing what he’s done.

“It’s okay,” an irritated groan falls past his lips. “I can’t hold you.”

“Sorry,” Tracy mumbles from the floor, “just give it a bit.”

It takes over an hour for Stiles to regain feeling in his limbs again. Theo didn’t make any effort to let go the entire time. The minute Stiles is sure he can move, his arms wrap around the Alpha’s back, clinging to him like a lifeline. Holding the chimera like he thought he’d never get to again. If the Nogitsune had his way, that would’ve been true. Lydia moved to the recliner while Mason, Corey, Josh and Tracy are on the other couch. As soon as Stiles is in his arms, Theo lays on his back, pulling his boyfriend on top of him.

His nose hasn’t once moved from his neck. Theo can’t express in words how wonderful it is to have that scent constantly rushing into his nostrils. The rumble in his chest is a near constant as well as he breathes carefully. Trying to keep himself level. Stiles told him numerous times that he’s not angry with the Alpha for what he had to do to save his life. That as long as that demon was gone, he's happy. There wasn’t a lie in his heart and his chemosignals never wavered with anger either. But Theo still feels awful.

“Thank you,” Stiles says for about the hundredth time. At least now he’s able to lift his head to kiss the chimera. The Alpha squeezes his hips, his eyebrows pinching together as Theo lets the mouth on his make his head spin. “I love you,” his boyfriend brushes their noses together. “I love you and I’m thankful for what you did. No matter how you feel about it. I know you had to do it. And if it came to my life or being turned, I’ll take the latter any day.” Not opening his eyes, Theo sighs with something short of resignation. Nodding slowly. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet perfect whiskey and Theo has to say it just one more time, “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. But you don’t have to be.” Stiles shakes his head, “I promise, it’s okay.” He tucks his head back on the chimera’s chest and Theo kisses his hair, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ back. “I love you. No matter what I turn into, you’re a pretty good fucking Alpha. I know I’ll be okay. And I know that because I love you,” he holds tighter and for that, Theo’s grateful.

“I love you, too.”

#teen wolf #steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #theo x stiles #steospooktober #steospooktober vol.3 #Square: Exorcism #Match Writes

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howlingxnomad · 2 years ago

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@letsbenditlikebennett

[pm] Uh, I thanked a fae... Again. I know. I knew she was a fae-- she doesn't usually do the whole bind thing. She was possessed by a coyote.

I'm fine-- just was supposed to stop the exorcism because of the bind. Caused a shift. Jaguar friend chased me away so they could do the exorcism, but no one's seen her since. I didn't think-- I usually remember, but like I apparently thought a demon living in my head rent free for months was totally normal. So.

[pm] Oh good! See my lessons on being polite were good for things. [User still doesn’t realize the bind thing is related to the thank thing] Hmm. Didn’t know coyotes could do that. I will go set up more traps at the edges of the woods, don’t want the chickens getting possessed.

Ahhh one of those types of Jaguars. For a moment there I thought you meant a friend from the zoo. Do you wish to go look together? Two snoots are better than one boot!

#c; string bean #w; ari

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raven-blog-life · 3 years ago

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What Are Magickal Correspondences?

"Currespondences" . Just as we are all born uder a certain sign of the zodiac, and just as our gender, race, nationality, and individual upbriging influence our characters and personal qualities, so correspondences influence the different elements and tools we might use to perform magick.

Carefully choosing elements with the right correspondences can help to insure the success of your magickal endevours! Below are Wiccan interpretations of elemental correspondences and phases for moon magick.

WICCA GENDER CORRESPONDENCES

Masculine elements are strong and active. Use for protection, purification, hex-breaking, exorcism, lust, sexual potency, health, strength, courage, financial success.

Feminine elements are subtler and softer. Use to attract love, increase beauty, youth, healing, psychic abilities, increase fertility, draw wealth, promote happiness and peace, aid sleep and cause visions.

WICCAN ELEMENTAL CORRESPONDENCES

Earth- A Feminine element.

Direction- North.

Color- green.

Elemental beings are gnomes.

Earth Animals are the wolf, owl, dragon, stag, and wild cats.

Stones are onyx, jade, amethyst, and flourite.

Rules spells dealing with fertility, jobs, money, business, health, ecology and nature, and stability.

Air- A Masculine element.

Direction- East.

Color- yellow.

Elemental beings are sylphs.

Air animals are doves, the wolf, fox, deer, and turtle.

Stones are moonstone, tourquoise, and rhodochrosite.

Rules spells dealing with memory, intellect, test taking, divination and psychic ability, travel, and overcoming addictions.

Fire- A Masculine element.

Direction- South.

Color- red.

Elemental beings are salamanders.

Fire animals are the porcupine, coyote, fox, squirrel, hawk, mouse, deer, bear, and snakes.

Stones are amber, citrine, smoky crystals, gold, and copper.

Fire rules spells dealing with success, sex, illness, protection, legal matters, competitions, strength, and energy.

Water- A Feminine element.

Direction- West.

Color-blue.

Elemental beings are undines.

Animals are all sea mammals and sea birds, fish, night creatures, and the raven.

Stones are silver, river rocks, amethyst, coral, seashells, and rainbow colored crystals.

Water rules spells dealing with love, friendship, meditation, healing, dreams, childbirth, clairvoyance and purification.

WICCA PLANETARY CORRESPONDENCES

Moon- Goddess mysteries, women’s health, the home, children, prophetic dreams, reincarnation, sleep, emotional healing.

Sun- God mysteries, physical health, employment, leadership, prosperity, money, the performing arts and celebrity, self confidence, and new ventures.

Mercury- The intellect, communications written or spoken, teaching and learning, travel, diplomacy, influencing others.

Venus- Inner and outer beauty, love, romance, family, the creative arts, friendship, gardening, peace, happiness, fertility and sexuality.

Mars- Passion, force, power, lust, courage, strength of will, the military, physical exertion, machinery, and competition.

Jupiter- Money, prosperity, success, legal judgements, luck, friendship, investments, social gatherings, ambition, the seeking and granting of favors.

Saturn- Land and real estate, past lives, overcoming self-sabotage, lies, and losses, learning life’s lessons and protection from psychic attack.

Uranus- Unexpected changes, higher consciousness, metaphysics, new inventions, regathering scattered energies, clairvoyance, freedom, and independence.

Neptune- Inner vision and perception, intuition, dreams, divination, chaos, confusion and revolution.

Pluto- Death, transformations, astral travel, the otherworld, materializations, transfigurations, and metamorphosis.

DAILY CORRESPONDENCES

Sunday- Ruled by the Sun. Power, prosperity, health, banishing evil annd excorcism.

Monday- Ruled by the Moon. Intuition, dreams, psychic ability, female fertility, and the Goddess.

Tuesday- Ruled by Mars. Courage, energy, and physical strength. banishing negativity.

Wednesday- Ruled by Mercury. Divination, communications, knowledge, wisdom, and study.

Thursday- Ruled by Jupiter. Good luck, wealth, healing, male fertility, legal matters.

Friday- Ruled by Venus. Love, sex, marriage, fertility and friendship.

Saturday- Ruled by Saturn. Psychic ability, meditation, and communication with spirits.

WICCAN MOON PHASE CORRESPONDENCES

New Moon- New Moon magick begins on the day of the new moon to three-and-a-half days after. Use the energy of the new moon for new ventures and new beginnings. Also use the new moon for love spells, job hunting, and healing.

Waxing Moon- The waxing moon begins seven to fourteen days after the new moon. Use the waxing moon for constructive magick, such as llove spells, magick for wealth and success, courage, friendship, luck or good health.

Full Moon- A powerful energy for rituals of prophecy, divination and protection. Any spellwork that requires extra energy, such as finding a new job or healing serious conditions, is best begun during the full moon. Also for love, gaining sacred knowledge, legal matters, attracting money and prophetic dreams.

Waning Moon- Begin waning moon magick three-and-a-half to ten-and-a-half days after the full moon. The waning moon is used for banishing negativity, for curing addictions, and illness.

New Moon- The energy of the dark moon is useful for working magick against attackers, and for understanding your own angers and passions. Also for rituals designed to bring justice to bear in very negative situations.

The Moon spends a day or two each month in each of the twelve signs of the zodiac. The sign the moon is transiting through can be used to good advantage during spellwork.

Moon in Aries- A good time to perform spells related to job ventures and all new projects related to money. Also a good time to develop strength and courage, and lust spells. This is not a good moon for performing divination.

Moon in Taurus- This moon is excellent for spellwork relatd to love, creativity, and inner peace. Spells done at this time take the longest to manifest, but the results will be very long lasting and be stable.

Moon in Gemini- The perfect time for spells dealing with communications, healing, and uncrossing spells. Be careful- the moon in Gemini can be unpredictable and unstable.

Moon in Cancer- Excellent for any spell involving the home, fertility, children, or divination.

Moon in Leo- Spells involving leadership, prosperity, fame and career are best done in Leo, but do not perform any spells involving love, or any other emotion, as Leo may actually counteract it.

Moon in Virgo- This moon ensures a spell which involves meticulous detail, especially spells involving education, healing, and stability.

Moon in Libra- Excellent for working a spell with a partner, and for magick involving marriage, couples, partnership, peace, and fairness.

Moon in Scorpio- Use this energy for mysteries, the occult, divination, and sex magick.

Moon in Sagittarius- This is an excellent time to experiment with new techniques or magick spells, but it is not a good time for psychic work or divination.

Moon in Capricorn- Perfect for spells to manifest life’s basiic needs and for stability.

Moon in Aquarius- The best time to work on behalf of others, but consciously stay focused on your heart to maintain a higher consciousness with others, and to avoid selfish motives.

Moon in Pisces- Perfect for divination and psychic work, past life regressions, and communication with spirits.

Magickal Tools used in Wicca

Pentagram- Symbol of the element of Earth, all things material, and the Northern Quarter. Pentagrams are also symbolic of the unity of the 5 elements Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit.

Athame- Athames are traditional black-handled daggers, symbolic of the element of Air, all things spiritual, and the Eastern Quarter. Daggers are used to direct and send magickal energy.

Wand- Symbolic of the element of Fire, all things mental, and the Southern Quarter. Wands are also used to direct and send magickal energy.

Chalice- Symbolic of the element of Water, all things emotional, and the Western Quarter.

Altar- The place where magickal symbols and tools are placed for use during a ritual or spellwork.

Book of Shadows- A witch’s spell book and magickal diary, used to construct and record spells and rituals.

Candles- Used to represent the God and Goddess on the altar. Use candles of the appropriate color for the type of spellwork or ritual.

Essential Oils- Used for anointing candles and other ritual objects and tools. Use the oil apporopriate to the purpose desired.

Stones and gems- Crystals carry energy vibrations, and can subtly help to bring the energy vibrations within your body, aura and spellwork into balance. Use gems and stones with vibrations suited to your purpose.

Incense- Incense appropriate to the season, or to the magickal goal, is burned to help attune the witch to the goal of the spell.

WICCAN uses of common incense

Cedar- Purification and protection, spiritual growth andprosperity.

Cinnamon- Love, psychic ability, and protection.

Copal- Purification and cleansing of ritual space and stones.

Dragon’s Blood- Lust, courage, and sexuality.

Frankincense- Protection, spirituality, and consecration of ritual tools

and space.

Jasmine- Love, peace, and prophetic dreams.

Juniper- Exorcism, healing and love magick.

Myrrh- Healing, protection, consecration of ritual tools and space,

meditation.

Pine- Money, purification, and exorcism.

Rose- Love, psychic powers, healing, luck, protection, Domestic peace and

happiness.

Sage- Spiritual growth, healing, and purification of the home and ritual

space.

Sandalwood- Protection, healing, love and spiritual growth.

Vanilla- Love, seduction, mental powers, an aphrodisiac.

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lilian-adamson · 2 years ago

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@kadavernagh

[pm] I see. That's an interesting name for it. I was not possessed. There was a dead coyote in my brain, and it encouraged me to say and do things I would not normally do. Very strange. It's possible there was mold in the skull I had with me. In any case, your procedure fixed it. Ah, yes. Um, sorry if that was a surprise. Thank you, Lilian. I-- I'm not sure if I can thank you enough, really.

[pm] Ah that’s the confusion. In movies and stuff ghosts tend to fully take over someone’s body and brain but that’s not very usual for most possessions. Mostly they don’t, or can only do it for limit amounts of time. You’re spirit has priority in your body essentially. It’s what makes my job a pain in the ass at times. [...] I mean I guess there could have been mold in the skull, but I don’t think that’s what caused this. [...] Not the first time I’ve been shocked at an exorcism and luckily for me not the last. [...] No problem, Regan. It’s my job to help people with this. I just wish I had the time beforehand to tell you what was going on. I’m sure you were scared. [...] I’m not well versed in this, but I’m pretty sure you should take away the thank you.

#Regan

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yikesimonfire · 3 years ago

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Howdy Neighbor || Alfie & Bex

Timing: Before the events of Promise to Bind. Location: Hallway of Alfie’s apartment complex. Parties: @inbextween & @yikesimonfire Summary: Bex drops by Eddie’s apartment with a gift; Alfie isn’t sure what he thinks of her. Content: internalized homophobia tw

It wasn’t necessary, but Bex liked doing nice things for her friends, and so she’d made Eddie a bone crown while she’d hyperfocused on making things yesterday. She’d had so much energy the past few days, due mostly in part to Mina, and well-- the stuff that had happened between them. Sometimes, she couldn’t stop smiling about it. Sometimes, it made her face hurt. The crown was littered with dried, pressed flowers that were sealed with preserve to keep them from crumbling apart, and she’d dusted off some of the small antlers Morgan had in the workshop-- way too small to even be baby deer antlers, so Bex really had to wonder what they might be from. They looked almost rabbit size-- and arranged them in a fashion she thought might suit Eddie. The coyote jaw bones really brought the piece together, as well. She hoped he’d appreciate the celebration of death in it. She figured he might, considering he saw ghosts and lived his life with them. But when she knocked, no one answered. Hmm, maybe she should’ve messaged him first. That probably would’ve been the smart idea, but she’d sort of wanted to surprise him. She wondered where he might be, as she peered into the front window. All the lights were off, which meant no one was home, probably. She pulled out her phone to text him when she noticed someone outside the apartment next to Eddie’s. “Oh, um hello!” she called out, waving. She didn’t recognize them, but then again, Bex didn’t know a lot of people around town. “I was just dropping something off! Do you know Eddie?”

It wasn’t uncommon that Alfie saw people he didn’t know lingering around the apartment complex. In fact, he didn’t know many people that lived there — even fewer by name. So when he got upstairs, mail in hand, he didn’t think anything of the young woman standing outside of Eddie’s door. As he reached for his keys, he ducked his head to avoid any unnecessary eye-contact. Soon enough, he’d have the door unlocked and he’d be safe. But then, in an unusually friendly voice, she called out to him. The sound of her voice made him involuntarily jerk (and almost drop his keys), but he managed a glance in her direction with a polite, but thin-lipped smile. “Hi,” he curtly replied. The question that followed, however, caused his brow to raise.

“Eddie? Uh — yeah. Yeah, I know Eddie.” Knew him better than most, or at least that’s what Alfie liked to believe. But that was neither here nor there. “I think he’s out, actually. Can’t exactly say when he’ll be back.” Obviously he was out, it probably didn’t take Alfie’s saying so for the stranger to figure that out. She wouldn’t have been standing outside if Eddie were home. Still, while Alfie fiddled with his key, edging it closer to the lock, he figured his friend would probably appreciate him being courteous. “Didyouneedanything?” The words sputtered out in an incoherent mess. “Or, uh… Is there anything I can do to help? He — he’ll probably be back soon.” He figured the polite thing to do was at least offer to wait with her (Eddie would like that, right?) but thought it inappropriate to mention.

Bex didn’t really notice the anxious behavior as she fussed with the phone and the crown in her hands, trying not to drop either one of them. At least her clumsiness had never extended to her hands. She managed to type out a text before the other boy mumbled something so quickly she didn’t quite understand it. “Oh! Oh, that’s-- kind of you to offer,” she said, looking down at her phone as it buzzed. An immediate answer, of course. He wasn’t going to be home for a bit, and she had stuff to do. Mina was expecting her back in a bit, as well. “Um, actually, yeah,” she said, pocketing her phone and looking back over at the other boy. He was quite a bit taller than her, even in her heels, and it wasn’t often she met someone who achieved that. She glanced back at Eddie’s door, before turning back to the other boy. “Would you mind giving this to him when he gets back? I would stay, but I have to be somewhere, and, well, I don’t really trust just leaving it on the doorstep, you know? I made it for him myself and I’d really like it if he actually, you know, got it.” She paused. “Not that I think anyone would steal it or anything! Or, well, I guess I sort of do, otherwise I’d be okay leaving it, but I’m more worried about it getting broken.” As nervous as Bex could be, she was used to talking to strangers and asking things of them. At least her parents had taught her one useful thing.

She made it for him herself? Alfie stood there, dumbfounded for a moment before giving her a small nod. “Yeah, yeah. ‘Course I can!” The hand holding his keys dropped to his side as he shifted towards her, his arm prematurely extended for a swift transfer. In the process, he noticed his shoulders were slouched and straightened up his back a bit — careful not to stand too tall and risk intimidating her. “Trust me, I get it. It’s a sketchy place. There’s no telling what might happen to it before Ed — Eddie gets back. ‘Sides, we wouldn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.” A forced chuckle followed which Alfie immediately regretted. “That… sounds like I’m saying it’s dangerous or something. I just mean, y’know… Things happen around here and, who knows — it’d probably be fine, but better safe than sorry.” His lips pursed together as he studied her face, trying to remember if he’d seen her anywhere; in any pictures Eddie had shown him, or even just from around town. Nothing. Was this just a thing now? Eddie having people over to bring him handmade gifts? “Will he be expecting it, or should I mention who it’s from?” he wondered. He figured that Eddie would be expecting it if she considered leaving it, but he also hoped that putting a name to her face might jog his memory.

“Oh, thank-- I appreciate that!” Bex said, catching herself quickly. It was still such an easy habit to fall into, saying thank you, without knowing what someone was. She thought of all the times she’d said thank you to Professor Campbell and hoped he wasn’t a fae. “Oh, yeah, yes! Better safe than sorry! I mean, this place doesn’t look too sketchy, and when I was over helping him edit some videos the other day, it seemed like a nice place! I think there’s definitely much sketchier places in White Crest,” she rambled. Oh, she was rambling again. She always did that when she was nervous. She smiled to cut herself off and held out the crown for him. “Do you know Eddie well?” she asked, when she noticed the slip in name. If he called him Ed, they were probably good friends, right? Usually people who were close gave each other nicknames. “Uh, no, I don’t think he’s expecting it. I just-- decided to make one and thought of him while I was doing it, so,” the sentence cut short as she shrugged. She wasn’t really sure why she’d made it for him, only that she wanted to do something nice for him, after everything he’d done for her. “You can tell him it’s from Bex,” she tacked on finally, looking back at the other boy with a half smile.

Helping him edit videos? Alfie never helped Eddie edit videos. Granted, that was probably because he never showed any interest in helping him. “Oh, yeah,” Alfie forced another laugh. “He keeps it surprisingly free of dog hair, considering.” He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he felt about that. Eddie was allowed to have other friends; it shouldn’t have bothered him. So why did it? “We’re pretty close, yeah.” At this point, Alfie didn’t even know if that was true. No — that was ridiculous. Of course they were close. Eddie was his best friend, after all.

As soon as the stranger introduced herself, things started making a little more sense. “Oh, Bex! From the — the exorcismyay,” Alfie’s voice dropped to a near whisper when he said “exorcism”. He remembered Eddie mentioning her now; how a filming adventure went awry. As it seemed, these excursions of his were just as dangerous as ever. “I realize now that’s still the same word in Pig Latin,” he tittered, a genuine smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes. The nagging in the pit of his stomach was quickly dissipating. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bex, and it’s sweet that you wanted Eddie to have this. I’m sure he’ll love it. I’m Alfie, by the way. Alfie Ramirez.” Why did he just tell her his full name? Should he shake her hand now? Was that the right thing to do? Without thinking, Alfie dropped his keys to offer Bex his other hand. “I’d hate to keep you,” he added as an afterthought. “I know you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Hey, well, Bucket is a queen and she deserves the world. I wouldn’t mind dog hair all over me if it was hers,” Bex chuckled, giving Alfie a better smile this time. He was a nice guy, and, so far, Bex really liked him. Especially if he was friends with Eddie. She didn’t think Eddie would be friends with anyone that wasn’t at least a little like him. “Oh, have you known him long, then? He said he grew up here, and he’s one of those people who seems to love this town. I think it’s cute, don’t you? How much he seems to like this place. It’s...refreshing.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said all that, but she supposed it was the truth, so what did it matter? And if this was Eddie’s friend, then, maybe she wanted to connect with him, too. Maybe she wanted to show Eddie that she had a genuine interest in his life. He made her feel welcome, after all. And safe. She had broken down in front of him and made him see her horrific nightmare and he’d still offered to drive her home and then also be her friend. He deserved a lot more than a bone crown and a date rejection.

“Oh! Yes! That! That was fun! I was so excited he asked me to come with him. I’ve never seen a ghost before. Or, well, I still technically haven’t, but I’ve seen what they can do! And stuff like that! And it was-- kind of amazing? Did you know there’s different kinds?” She straightened up, laughing a little. “Sorry, I um-- kind of get carried away when i get excited. It’s nice to meet you, Alfie!” she stuck out her hand and took his, watching his keys drop to the ground. “Oh! You’re not keeping me! I mean, I do have someplace to be in a bit, but not right away! Eddie just said he wouldn’t be home for a while--” she shook her phone at him in a gesture of ‘he texted me’ before dropping it, “--so I just don’t have time to wait for him to come back.”

There was a dull throb in Alfie’s chest the moment Bex referred to Eddie as “cute”. For years now, he’d been telling himself not to think like that — and for years, he’d failed. His friend and neighbor would forever be unattainable. It was fine; Alfie accepted that Eddie would only ever be his friend. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t difficult every now and then. How could he pretend that his feelings were strictly platonic when Eddie’s laugh made his heat soar? Or when he stood there, one hand on his hip, and the other forcing his mess of hair in every which way? Eddie was cute — painfully so — but hearing that someone else thought it too seemed… unfair? Almost. With any luck, Bex said that sort of thing about all of her friends; it couldn’t be exclusive to Eddie, could it?

“Uh, kind of, yeah,” Alfie croaked. “I’ve known him since high school, but we didn’t talk much.” That was a lie. Sure, they went to school together, but implying that they interacted at all was inaccurate. “That changed when Eddie moved in nextdoor, though. We’ve been friends ever since… The rest is ancient history, and all that jazz.” Alfie knew he needed to stop embellishing the truth. One quick chat with Eddie and Bex would know the truth. Hell, he apparently didn’t make it a point to mention him to her yet. The ache in Alfie’s chest permeated his entire body. His cheeks flushed and his heart raced. He was being ridiculous, he told himself. It shouldn’t matter that Bex didn’t know about him. It shouldn’t matter that Eddie was making new friends. And having them over to his house. Introducing them to Bucket. Watching movies and cuddling on the couch.

Stop it! His mind screamed at him over the sound of Bex’s voice. What was the last thing she said? “Different kinds?” Alfie parroted, trying to remember the words that came before it. Ghosts, right. His ears were still ringing. She shook his hand and he laughed, returning the gesture long enough to be socially acceptable before withdrawing, completely disregarding his keys on the ground. “No, no — you’re fine! I know a bit about ghosts, but I’ve definitely never had an encounter like that before. It sounds—” terrifying, “— fun!” For what it was worth, Alfie didn’t exactly want to shoo Bex away, not even when his heart was drumming in his chest. Maybe if he changed the subject? “Ah, that’s understandable,” he agreed. “Have you been here long? In White Crest, I mean — not here, here. I can’t say I’ve ever seen you around.”

If the other boy was distracted by thoughts, Bex didn’t notice. She was caught up in her own, thinking about Eddie, and how much fun she’d had with him, and what was wrong with her? She had Mina, she had slept with Mina, more than once, and maybe she wanted more than to just be friends with Mina, so why did she keep thinking about what Eddie had said? Why had he asked her out? Why hadn’t she just told him the truth? Everything was so confusing yet so clear right now. She blinked, and readjusted, because Alfie was talking again and she needed to pay attention. Pay attention. “OH, you went to highschool together? That’s cool! I assume you went to the school here? Yeah, I mean, that’s fair. I always feel like people are very different in highschool than after.”

She looked down at his keys on the floor and wondered if he knew. Should she point them out? “Um, you dropped your keys, by the way.” He was being oddly quiet between bouts of words, and she wondered if he was somehow off put by her. She was being awfully nosy, after all. She couldn’t help it. Eddie was still kind of a mystery to her, aside from his ghost stuff. She wanted to know more about him. She’d have to ask him. Maybe bothering his neighbor was a bad idea. “Oh, me? I mean, technically, yes? I was born here. I live-- lived-- out on Harmony Island. I’m in East End now, but I didn’t go to school in town. I went to a private school up in Augusta, so that’s probably why you haven’t seen me around.” Lately, a lot of locals had been saying that to her. Did everyone just know everyone here? She supposed the whole six degrees of separation was more like two degrees in a tiny town like this. “What about you? Did you grow up here? I mean, obviously you went to school here, but, you know, did you move here or were you always here?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Alfie absentmindedly agreed, not bothering to get into the smaller details. In high school, the boys didn’t have much to do with each other. He saw Eddie around campus and onstage in theater productions, but that was about it. Whoever Eddie was in high school, he doubted they would have gotten along back then.

When Bex mentioned that he’d dropped his keys, Alfie looked almost startled. His eyes shot to his feet where, lo and behold, his keychain limply lied. “Oh, huh, I— yeah, I guess I did,” he grumbled before crouching down and plucking them up. How was he managing to make this much of a fool out of himself? He worried what Bex must have thought of him; more importantly, what Eddie would think if he knew. Would she tell him? ‘Hey, I met your neighbor, Alfie. You know, the one you never mentioned? What a weirdo!’ His thoughts swarmed with what they’d potentially say about him. No doubt laughing as they huddled around Eddie’s computer and bonded over a shared interest.

“Harmony Island, huh? Sounds fancy.” Alfie chewed nervously on the inside of his cheek as he tried to purge the negative thoughts from his mind. Honestly, he didn’t know much about the island. His reaction was purely based on the fact that it was, well, an island. There were probably a lot of fancy houses there, right? As per the natural progression of conversation, the question was now turned on him. “Yeah, I grew up here,” he answered as he shifted his weight, standing somewhat smaller than he had before. “I’ve never left the greater White Crest area, actually. My family— they, uh… own the library. Or, run it, I guess? It’s probably a lot less cool than it sounds unless you really love books.” Bex probably didn’t care about what his family did for a living, but it was better than hearing how great friends she was with Eddie. “I haven’t worked there in a while, though. I’m actually a software developer. Freelance. I could never work a nine-to-five.”

Bex took a small step back as Alfie bent to pick up his keys. He didn’t seem very talkative, and she wondered if it was because of her. Was she making him uncomfortable? Was it weird that she’d come to Eddie’s place without asking before hand? Was he wary of her? Did he not like her? She shook the thoughts from her head and tried to focus back in on what Alfie was saying. “Oh, uh, yeah! My family is actually kind of uh, well known around town,” she said, rubbing the back of her head before hands came together to wring each other out. She looked back over her shoulder, as if maybe she would turn and see Eddie coming down the hallway, but there was nothing. “My parents are pretty well off.” But I don’t speak to them much anymore. Or at all. She shivered at the thought.

“You’re-- family owns the library? The public one? Do-- do you have a sister? I think I might’ve talked to her online! Is her name Leah?” She was somehow grateful for the change of subject, perking back up for a moment. IF she could make friends with Eddie’s friends, then that was only a good thing, right? That had to be a good thing. “Software developer? Woah, that’s so cool! How’d you learn to do that? Did you teach yourself or did you go to school for it? Either way, that’s, like, super impressive.”

Alfie gave a series of small nods as Bex talked about her own family. He wondered if he should know who they were, but thought better of it. He was still a stranger, after all. They knew each other's names and that they shared a mutual friend. That was it. Alfie was never any good at making friends. Sure, there was also Nell, but their friendship started out of sheer luck — and family ties. Small talk was also not within Alfie’s usual realm of comfort. He hated it, in fact. That’s probably why he didn’t have many friends. That and the fact that that he never felt he needed any. Maybe, with any luck, he’d manage to befriend Bex too. “That makes sense; with private school and everything,” he agreed.

A light laugh surfaced from the depths of his chest. “Yeah, that’s the one,” Alfie confirmed after clearing his throat. “Leah, yeah. She’s, uh— she’s great, really.” He never knew what to say when it came to his family. His parents were strict when he was growing up. They still were, actually. Not that he had much to do with them these days. Leah was — beyond a shadow of a doubt — the golden child. Compared to her and their other siblings, Alfie was the black sheep. That wasn’t the sort of information people usually offered to someone they just met. Instead, Alfie kept quiet; at least until Bex showed an interest in his job. All of a sudden, his face lit up. It was cool! “I’m mostly self-taught, actually! I mean, I took some classes for it in high school, but that’s about it. It’s just always been something I’ve enjoyed doing — fiddling around with computers and whatnot.” Alfie grinned sheepishly at Bex. As much as he enjoyed talking about it, he didn’t want to bore her. “What about you, though? Do you work, or…?”

“She is! She was super nice and agreed to let me borrow some books! Which...it’s a library so of course she did, but I mean, like--” Bex lowered her voice a bit and leaned in, “--special books, if you catch my drift.” Supernatural books. Magic books. She smiled again as she leaned back and gave a short chuckle. “Sorry. I just get really excited about books, and when I actually happen to know people. I don't know too many people around town, so it’s nice knowing this place is actually smaller than it seems, you know? Like, who woulda thought that Eddie’s neighbor, who I met coincidentally, was related to the nice librarian lady I talked to online, who also knows my mo-- er, my current guardian, and is friends with her! Isn’t that wild?” She tried to recuperate fast enough to hope Alfie hadn’t caught her stumble. Not that he knew about her situation, but the slip had even her surprised. Morgan wasn’t her mom. Morgan probably didn’t want the responsibility of that, either. Plus, Bex was an adult, mostly. She didn’t need someone to be that for her. She was doing fine, really.

“But, oh, wow! That’s so cool! And so impressive that you learned most of it all on your own! Do you make a lot of money doing it? What kinds of things do you design? I mean, software, obviously, but is it like, firewalls, programs, mods? There’s so much. Me? Oh, well-- I used to intern at my parents’ law firm, but I, uh-- have recently had a change of heart for what I wanna major in. So, currently jobless, just uh, focusing on school! And, well-- I guess ghost hunting, now. Does that count as a job if I’m not getting paid? It feels like more than a hobby, though, you know?”

“Special books — right, totally getcha. Like, say… her personal copy of ‘Interview with the Vampire’,” Alfie nodded. It wasn’t surprising that someone jumping into the ghost hunting scene would be interested in perusing the restricted section of the library. On the contrary, Leah wasn’t known to lend out books (as far as Alfie was aware) and he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than just Bex’s excursions with Eddie. “Sorry, that was lame. But, yes, I caught your drift.” As Bex apologized, Alfie shook his head with a gentle smile. He was no stranger to talking a bit more than he should about things that made him excited. The library might not have been one of his go-to hangouts these days, but if Bex wanted to gush over it, he’d be happy to listen. “No need to apologize! And actually — now that you mention it — White Crest may be a relatively small town, but you’d be surprised how many people I don’t know. I guess it is pretty cool to realize who knows who and whatnot.”

The broad grin never wavered from Alfie’s face. It was easy to push aside his reservations towards Bex when his craft was in question. He was very quickly warming up to this new acquaintance. “A handful of different things, actually! I’ve cast a pretty wide net. I’ve recently been really into programming a personal database. It’s, uh… a work in progress.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. In the event that it got back to Leah, his sister might start asking questions that Alfie wasn’t prepared to answer. “But, yeah. You pretty much hit the nail on the head with all of those. The pay’s decent enough, though I haven’t had any big projects lately — takes care of the bills at least.” Did it matter that some of these projects were morally questionable? Alfie was merely the brains behind them; what the clients used them for were out of his control. He objected not to voice this, considering her parents were in law. “Hey, take it from someone who didn’t go to college: you’re allowed to change your mind about that sort of thing. ‘Specially since you’re the one earning the degree. Have you picked a new major, or…? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Yeah, but less Interview With A Vampire and more--” Bex started, then stopped. She’d been reminded time and time again that telling people she didn’t know that she was a spellcaster was a bad idea. But Alfie was friends with Eddie and he was Leah’s little brother, so he could be trusted, right? She wanted to trust him. “More, Practical Magic.” Oh, that was a blatant reference, wasn’t it? Well, no hiding it now, she supposed. She gave him a sheepish smile and waved it off. “Not lame! Definitely not lame. If it was lame then so was mine.” She chuckled lightly, hoping to move past the notion quickly, nodding eagerly when he amended his statement about White Crest. “Yeah, totally! I’ve definitely noticed that. I mean, I grew up kinda closed off, so I never really knew people around town, but once I started actually meeting people, it was like everyone knew everyone! Or knew of them, at least. Wild, huh? Six degrees of separation who?” Oh, now she was just embarrassing herself. She cleared her throat. “It’s just interesting to see. When I moved away to Penn State briefly, it was so different. Everything was so impersonal.” She’d sort of liked that, though, blending in easily. The dream of that life was so long gone,though.

“Woah, you’re making a whole database all from scratch?? That’s incredible!” Bex exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly, but she couldn’t help it-- people being excited made her excited and her cheeks bubbled with it. She needed to find every reason to be excited, anyway. Every reason to be happy. “But, you know, pays the bills is good! Especially if it’s something you enjoy! Isn’t that what they say? Find something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life?” She remembered one of her professors telling her that. She didn’t know if it was true. “Oh! Uh, yeah, I have. Um-- Anthropology. I’ll probably focus on uh, Archaeology. It’s what interests me the most. But, really, anything about history interests me. I could probably go to school for the rest of my life getting different history degrees. I won’t, though! But I could.” She rubbed the back of her head. “I’m what they call a History nerd. Or buff. History buff. Anything you wanna know about history, I probably know something about!”

Practical magic? That came as a surprise. The only spellcasters Alfie knew in White Crest were the Vurals. He always figured there were more, but never bothered to find out for himself. A wave of anxiety crashed over him at the thought of Bex having something to do with his curse; a worry that quickly subsided at the realization that no beginner magic-user could be involved in a plot spanning across what was likely centuries. Unless…

“Not lame,” Alfie reiterated with a meek smile. “Although, I can’t exactly say I’ve read it myself.” He wondered if it would be appropriate to ask her more about it — if only to subdue his concern. Maybe it was best to leave it be for the time being.

It was interesting to hear about Bex’s fondness for White Crest. The reasons she seemed to adore the small town were on Alfie’s list of why he wanted to leave it. “That sounds ideal to me,” he said playfully, electing not to elaborate. Explaining that he longed for a bigger city where he could easily hide away would only dampen the mood. Not to mention that it could potentially get back to Eddie who would undoubtedly be upset by it. If anyone could make Alfie stay, it would be him — another thing on his ever-growing list that Alfie wasn’t prepared to get into with Bex.

“More or less,” he chuckled. “The original code is pretty much public domain, but I’ve made my own enhancements.” These ‘enhancements’ being private journals that he so eagerly nicked from the family’s secret collection, though that was neither here nor there. He’d return them… eventually. “I mean, that’s awesome, though! There’s still so much to discover through artifacts from the past.” In a sense, Alfie was doing the same; unearthing his own past through vague remnants of it. “Good on you for chasing your dreams.”

Alfie thoughtfully pursed his lips. He wondered if Bex had anything in her bank of knowledge pertaining to his own circumstances. “Actually, now that you mention it… You don’t happen to have any recommendations on, say, the history of White Crest, do you? More specifically pre-dating European colonization?” It was a long shot, but he couldn’t exactly ask Leah.

“Oh!” Bex perked a bit, “it’s actually a really good book! If you like reading about that kinda stuff, I’d totally suggest it.” She beamed for a moment. She loved talking about books and sharing other people’s interests and, well, it was always nice when people shared hers, too, wasn’t it? She wondered if Alfie knew about all the things that went on in the shadows of White Crest, all the things the world tried to hide from people-- probably, considering he was friends with Eddie, and Eddie didn’t seem like the kinda guy to hoard that type of information. In fact, he was the opposite. She shook the thoughts away.

“What? Oh! Yeah,” she blinked back to the present moment and away from her thoughts and nodded. “I don’t mind living in a small town. I know it’s not everyone’s thing, but I dunno-- it’s not so bad, for me.” It was harder to disappear, but maybe that wasn’t what she wanted anymore. Maybe she did want to be known, after being hidden for so long.

“Enhancements? Well, I mean, still! That’s amazing. I’m sure you made it infinitely better. And, well, yeah, thanks! I just kinda figured, what’s the point of life if you’re just living someone else’s, you know?” She gave pause at his last question. She did, in fact, have recommendations on all that. But they were Morgan’s family notebooks and the ones she’d dug up at the record hall and “borrowed” permanently. No one knew they were missing, not when she’d replaced them with fakes. She chewed her lip. “Uh, I mean, you could check town hall, if you wanted to. They might have some old newspapers or records that could tell you about that stuff. Does your family not have any books on that stuff in the library?” And little did she know, her own parents had records of that time. They’d been in White Crest longer than the town had a name, after all. She shrugged. “Sorry I can’t be more help there.” Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at it. “Oh, uh-- I-- I should probably get going, actually. I-- thanks again, you know, for talking to me and for holding onto that for Eddie for me.”

“I’m not exactly, uh — how do I put this? — affluent in that sort of thing, if I’m being honest,” Alfie chuckled. The hand holding his keys darted behind him to rub the back of his neck. Growing up, Nell tried her best to explain it to him, but the only thing Alfie could relate it to was his lessons on temperature control — and his innate ability to burst into flame. Aside from that, magic simply didn’t make sense to him. He always assumed it was something some were simply born with. These new-age witches and wiccans most likely accomplished nothing more than what any ordinary human was already capable of. Then again, what did he know? He figured it would be impolite to ask Bex whether or not she had any real powers. It wasn’t his business.

Alfie nodded along as Bex spoke, failing to come up with anything valuable to add. Living in White Crest was a curse (at least for him), but he didn’t expect others to share that opinion. He wasn’t sure how far back his history with premature death went. All Alfie knew for certain was that the records he did have access to were set in the unusual town; none of which explained the source for his self-proclaimed “curse”. What he needed to find was something with the answer in bold print — a pissed off spellcaster rebuking one phoenix in particular. Or perhaps an astrological phenomenon occurring around the time of his birth or death. Not that Alfie knew the precise dates.

“Yeah, I mean, the library definitely has some stuff,” he said sheepishly. “But, uh, thanks. I’ll have to give town hall a shot.” At that moment, Bex’s phone buzzed. Alfie hadn’t noticed the tension in his shoulders until then. “Oh, of course! Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.” He felt a little guilty for being relieved that Bex was leaving. He hated small talk. “It was great to finally meet you, Bex. I’ll make sure Eddie gets it as soon as he’s home. And, uh… be safe out there.”

#c: bex #writing #howdy neighbor #internalized homophobia tw

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