#so mulch is stepping down off the rock and kind of hunched over so he seems smaller

[baalzebufo]

two of my blightkings done! Icterus Kanker and Spleen Mulch, the knights representing Choleric Yellow Bile and Melancholic Black Bile respectively. the warband is based in Shyish, where the Humors are tasked with returning the undead to their rotting graves and bestowing Nurgle's gifts on the living. they're a roving band of knights doing their grandpas work with pride :)

anyway glad to finally get a proper start on painting these guys! im really happy with the little details, like Mulch's oozing black goop and Kanker's maw. im colouring each of their bases with their respective colour for easy recognition and just because I think it looks fun

[the-headbop-wraith]

2 _ 30 Ash Lingers

The tracks were obvious, how could he not have noticed them first?  But he was a dog, maybe it was just instinct versus rational.  Tracking in the cold was impossible, his nose was numb and the frost bit into his sinuses, but he was making good time now that he sought the signs in the thin crust of ice.  He galloped over twisted roots and zipped through brittle shrubs, flurries catching on the tips of his ears whip around in his passing.  Of course they would be fine, Lewis was there, if not Vivi was quite capable of taking care of everyone.  He was sure.

Mystery skid on his front palms and raised his head high, ears aimed forward, twitching.  Sounds, heavy breath, wheezing.  Someone running in a panic, feet crunching on the soil.  The voice could be Vivi.  He gave a bark and charged off, adjusting his course for the direction of the escalating disturbance.  They lost the path, racing through the forest in a mad panic.  There would be no time for explanations, he need to decide what possible scenarios could have come about.  He was beginning to fear the worse.  

Danger.  Something old, powerful.  Something unforeseen.  All of this didn’t help.

“Mystery!” A voice shot from the dark, obstructed by the surrounding trees.  The hound dug his back legs into the soft mulch, twisting over, and charged straight towards the sounds.  “What happened?  You were supposed to watch him!”  Vivi carried a bundle in her arms, bound up in Lewis’ jacket.  Bad, this was bad.

The dog snorted as he trotted the last few feet, and glanced beyond Vivi through the mirage of blue-silver and shrouds.  Well, I’m here now.  He looked at Vivi, barked, and lowered down on his front legs to bristle his fur.  What has happened?  Where IS Arthur?  You didn’t leave him behind—

From the shrubs stumbled a yellow streak caught up in thin vines and leaves, half blinded by foliage and lack of light.  A leg nearly kicked into Mystery’s side and the figure went down hard, skidding several feet over root clusters hidden by frost.  Everything settled soon after, some ash and leaves remained clinging to Arthur’s bright orange vest.  Both stare.

Well….  Mystery sat down, and raised a paw to fix a bent ear.  I won’t ask.

“Are you hurt?” Vivi snapped, and Arthur mumbled something about pizza.  Vivi didn’t catch it, maybe Arthur had been moaning and she imagined it.  She stepped aside to set Dimitri down between a bundle of roots vacant enough of ice, then stooped low beside Arthur.  She hesitated to reach out and touch Arthur, but managed to persuade herself to set a hand on his bad shoulder.  “Where’s Lewis?  He wasn’t behind you?”  Vivi raised her gaze to the endless rows of trees and tangled dark stretching beyond; her eyes seeking bright sparks, a familiar ghost racing head-on out of the reach of a vehement disaster.  She’d already said it herself, she knew Lewis’ options had been restricted, but she didn’t want to concede that she had been right.  “Did we just leave him like that?  Did we?”

“Jeez,” Arthur mumbled, as he pulled himself up. He crouched on his knees among the brittle leaves, and reached up to snag the cloth of Vivi’s coat.  It was hard to see, neither of them had managed to salvage a torch he realized.  He could only imagine her face now.  “No. I… There was nothing I could do! That thing went after him!  Vi… he pissed it off real bad.”  As he spoke, his voice quivered.  Vivi had that dawning horror in her eyes, and he had no way of assembling a shabby voice of encouragement.  “I would’ve stayed, honest, but I was in the way!  I thought he was gunna be right behind me, I swear. I didn‘t… I didn‘t look back!”  He cringed, and brought the soft wristband of his metal arm to his brow.  He tries not to shake too hard, he can barely hang onto Vivi.  “I thought he would follow.  I thought….  One I was gone—  I’m telling you! ”

“You did all you could.”  Vivi tightens her grip on his shoulder and bows down, close to his eye level.  “You did enough.  I couldn‘t expect any more from you.”

The words were meant to reaffirm his actions, but they hurt.  As if she didn’t expect him to do anything but run.  But what else could he have done, performed another Classic H style distraction?  That was all he was good for in a pinch.

“W-what… happen?”  All three turn as Dimitri stirs, eyes blinking at the dark as he raised his head.  His movement was sluggish but he was coming to, quickly.  “Where am I?  How— ” He sat bolt upright out of the coat.  “What’d I do?”

“Whoa there, sport.”  Vivi sprang over to crouch by the muddled boy, and drew the sides of the jacket around his shoulders.  “You had a nasty fall.  The ground around here is slick, and— ”  She jerked her arms back when Dimitri shoved at her.

“Don’t give me that!  I know what I saw!”  The boy looked away to his lap where he clutched a shredded toy, its torso splint and tangles of roots spilling out.  “Don’t lie to me.”

Vivi pulled her fists up to the scarf looped about her neck and gripped the soft material.  What to say, what to say?  “No one��s trying to lie to you,” she murmured.  “I was worried you would be scared or… confused, you’ve suffered a terrible shock.”

“Why?” Dimitri lashed at her.  He bowed his head forward and hunched his shoulders under the jacket.  It was so cold.  “Because your friend’s some kind of monster?”  He cringed at his own words.  This was Lewis he was talking about.  Lewis. The guy that liked alpacas, and read him scary stories during the long stretches of desolate road, or played games with him to help pass the time.  The one person that had been there when the others had… lost themselves. And he… he wasn’t human.

Arthur raised his flesh arm to his shoulder and rubbed at the stiff skin.  “Harsh man. That’s harsh.”

Vivi motioned Arthur to keep quiet, and turned back to Dimitri.  “No,” she says, her voice low it was barely a whisper.  “Because… I know what you saw in that clearing.  The tree.  We… we didn’t expect that, and… I don’t know what to do.”  Vivi leaned towards Dimitri and put her arms around his shoulders. “We’ll find a way.  We haven‘t given up yet.”  Dimitri slumped into her arms, but didn’t raise his hands from the toy he clutched.  Vivi hugged him tightly and shut her eyes.  “I’ll be okay.  We haven’t even started yet.  Right?” Dimitri mumbled something into her shoulder and shook his head.

Mystery glanced between Vivi and Dimitri, then to Arthur.  A piece of twine remained tethered around the paw he raised to his snout, he yips gently.

“You’re right,” Arthur says.  He turns to the vague direction they had rushed from, his breath mists as he exhales a lungful of warm air.  He felt better, clearer now with the distance from the sprite and its forest grave.  There was no indication that it was still active and fighting Lewis, no wild explosions; just the uneasy stillness of a cold winter night.  Despite the lack of moving air the forest around them groans and its leave litter rustles impatiently, as if the woods were reshaping, reforming, secluding its secrets from the intruders.

Time was a concept this place evicted.

“Lewis!” Arthur called.  He cupped his hands around his mouth and tries again.  Arthur’s voice snapped and he fell into dry hacks.

“He’s in trouble,” Vivi states, as she stands.  “I have some supplies…. Art, take Dimitri back to the van.”

“No-no.”  Arthur shook his head and held out his hand.  “I’ll go back.  I’m the better candidate.”  Vivi snared his shoulder and held onto Arthur before he could vanish into the woods. Not on her watch.  

Dimitri and Mystery looked back and forth between the two as they argued.  Arthur was very expressive with his arms, even if the prosthetic was substandard when he became anxious.  The whole time Vivi absolutely would not release Arthur’s arm, and she was snarling at him.  “Does this happen a lot during a crisis?”  Dimitri murmured

Mystery ‘ruffs’.  It’s a requirement.

“And then what?” Vivi hissed back, at the crescendo of their bickering.  Her hand had slipped while Arthur jerked around in her grip, and now she was only latched to the shoulder strap of his backpack.  “What’s your plan?  Are you gonna talk it to death?”

“I just might!” Arthur yelped. He pulled back and grabbed Vivi’s hand, trying to loosen her grip.  “Damnit, could you just… have some faith in me for once!  I know I’m the last person… I know— !”  He slapped a hand over Vivi’s mouth before she starts the tirade all over.  “It’s Lewis, or me.”  Vivi glared over Arthur’s arm for a second.  Her eyes dart aside, and she sighed through her nose.  Gently, she pulled Arthur’s hand away.

“Mystery.  Make sure he doesn‘t do anything reckless.”  Mystery gave a soft yip and took off, dashing by Arthur in a blind race.  Arthur gave a cry as he pivoted and gave chase of the hound:  

“You don’t know the way!”

“Can you stand?” Vivi says, when she returns to Dimitri.

“Yeah.”  Dimitri drew his feet up under himself then rocked to rise, and Vivi kneeled down with an arm out in case he needed help.  When supplied his weight his legs gave out, and Vivi had to snare him by the arm before he could fall into the dirt.  “My legs.  What’s wrong with me?”

“You woke up,” Vivi supplied. She adjusted the jacket around his shoulders and heaved Dimitri up off the frigid ground.  “You should be fine.  The influence, I don’t know what to call it - it must be working out of you. I hoped you just fainted, but I… that had been my hope.”  She jogged off downhill, placing trust in her stern sense of direction to guide here from the woods.  If they were enchanted or drenched in a haze of power that repelled trespassers, she could only hope that this power for the time was diverted.

As she hurried away, Vivi would feel a pressing need to spin about and check through forest, search for indication that their panic was premature; some small glimmer of fire as Lewis and the others raced out to safety.  The oppressive winter lull swelled thicker and deeper with every yard she stacked between her and the direction she had retreated from.

Fire gushes and leaves scatter, plumes of embers gleam through the cold air as tree limbs moaned in their efforts to reach out, hold and take.

In hindsight, diving into the grove had been a terrible mistake.  It was made worse by the reoccurring understanding that escape was within his grasp, he need only… reach for it.  What was stopping him?  Why couldn’t he do it?  

Too much was going on for Lewis to keep track.  From every side he was assaulted by vines and roots, snatching out at his corporal form as he ducked and weaved.  The wood grove was thick with ancient trees, Lewis couldn’t fluctuate between insoluble and produce fire to meet the demands of his attacker, half the time he kept his locket shielded by an arm.  He skipped and dove low to the soil, spreading cinder at the reaching tree limbs.  And the roots!  He hadn’t decided precisely what it was they did whenever they tore into his suit, but it couldn’t be allowed.

“Thou take, but doth nay give back.  Thou fit nay hitherto the pillar of existence.”  The forest spirit crashed through trees, carried by thick vines that swung it low and launched it high, above the flames Lewis spread through the brush.  It had shed layers and segments of its once intimidating form, in order for it to navigate effortlessly through the thicket to pursue the dapper ghost.  With the whole of the forest at its command it need no extra arms to detain Lewis, or move close and risk the flames scorching at its carapace.  ““Let thee help thou, lost soul,” it hummed, the branches rasp, leaves rustling.  “Let thee help thou.”

“I do not!  Do not NEED any help!”  A low hanging branch swept out at his back, tangling with Lewis’ dress coat as he rose from the soil.  The branch tethers him as vines wind down snagging his shoulders and snap the ghost backwards.  Lewis shoves a hand over his locket, holding it to his chest as he digs his feet into the frozen earth.  A wave of soot huffs from his collar and Lewis ignites flames from his ribs. While vines shatter and branches coil back, Lewis spreads more cinder onto his unaccounted flames and sweeps an arm out; the lost fire snuffs out from the branches.  Lewis pivots on his heel, kicking back as more vines slice out for him; his skull spins upon his shoulders searching the thicket, occasionally he glances up.

Punch through the canopy, gain distance; the wood sprites reach is purely physical, shackled to the forest, its sanctuary. But he… can’t.  Lewis is as grounded to the earth as his soul is anchored by the locket at his chest.

Low branches curl inward, twisting around him with slithering vines binding, caging.  A burst of flames flashes from Lewis coat, another opening crackling with embers and sizzling coals but the forest has no end.  A thick cloud of ash rises from his coat as he snags, roots rip forth from ice encrusted soil coiling at his ankles; some of these clumps eerily resemble gnarled hands as they tighten.  Lewis cups his fists together and heaves his form down, a wave of fire shoots out from where his fists slam upon the soil.  The heat vaporizes the nearest plant matter, black char stretches over the soil and timber crackles with glittering fuchsia.  

Vines persist to lash out, stabbing at the coat collar as Lewis throws himself back against a tree trunk.  “Would you just… y‘know, blink or something?”  He slips down backwards, beneath a tangle of vines that lash out and twist over the trunk.  “I’m… trying to leave!  Just let me go!”

The wood spirit glides between the branches of the lower canopy, and as Lewis watched he realized that the vines that moved it did so by exchanging out its exoskeleton, effectively rebuilding it layer by layer upon its constant mobility.  That small fragment of knowledge, though obvious as it should have been from the beginning, made his consciousness sink deeper.

“Seek peace,” it crooned, descending towards Lewis segment by segment. “I can see through you, soul.  You seek fulfillment, a resolution.”  The forest sprite screeches when a bright flash of fire tears through the lower portion of its exposed body, its thinned body. A swell of black smog rises from its carapace and the sprite crashes to the forest ground, it twists itself into a tight knot and work bundles of vines over its sputtering, blackened shell. The earth cracks beneath it, and a nest of roots rip forth in heavy bundles for the fires coordinator.

Lewis zipped away and dodged the reach behind the tree trunk he had dropped beside.  He pressed one hand over his pulsing locket and kicked away, flames popping at his heels as he glides beyond the reach of unearthed roots.  Flames ignited from his wrist collar, catching over reaching branches snagging at his shoulder.  The forest sprite continues to wail out, trees quiver as it knocks about either struggling to replace its damaged shell or fighting to pull its girth back into the canopy.

Briefly, Lewis glimpses his surroundings as he coasts away.  The further from the entity, the less animate the forest was.  He glances at the bits of ash flaking from his shoulder, but is distracted by a shadow draped over the blue ice he propels over.

The wood sprite launched its body above, through the branches of the canopy and down onto Lewis.  A wall of flames greets its assault forcing its recoil from the harsh fire, and it withers into the soil like a blackened weed stalk.  Roots are torn up by its violent thrashing, these are braced over the smoldering pieces of its body until the embers are extinguished.

For a moment the wood sprite relents its onslaught and keeps immobile, the glimmering spaces in its neck turn to Lewis as he drifts back slowly.  Small wisps of bright embers follow at Lewis’ shoulders, as does the dark dust drifting from his suit.  His heel catches on a root and Lewis settles on the earth, he falters to his side but stays upright and rests a hand over his locket.

“You prolong the inevitable,” the spirit of the woods says. The soil cracks and roots slip free around Lewis’ feet, slithering to the heels of the dapper ghost.  “Why do this?”  It hesitates at the flames puffing from Lewis’ coat collar.

“You don’t know me.”  Lewis scattered embers at his toes, and the roots withdraw by an inch. Carefully, Lewis begins to move back step by step, slowly.  “Once a long time ago, what were you?  You… don’t remember?”

The wood spirit uncoiled the segments of its body and whipped around, before Lewis can launch himself away.  Coils of its vines pin Lewis down and wind into his backside, roots from the soil stab into his shoulders.  Lewis manages to force himself to his knees and holds himself there, as fire sputters in his suit color.   None lethal frantic puffs of colorful smoke and soot.  The wood sprite curls itself around and flips its head portion over, to peer at Lewis.  “What medium would thou have of thy memories?”

A calamity of hysterical barking bursts from the nearest brush, and a silver streak tears into the vine coils digging into Lewis’ shape. Mystery gives a fierce growl as his teeth tears into the dusty bark, he anchors himself by his fangs and claws as the coils lurch.

The spirit of the forest does not release Lewis, but squeals as it whips around.  Loops of creepers from beneath the canopy wind it up, while vines across the broken soil begin to coil about Mystery’s snout and middle body.  Mystery yelps as his teeth tear free, his arms tug out as his claws remain snared on the vines he had been gnawing on.  Coils tighten around his chest, the vines wrap over his snout and head constricting.

“Don’t you DARE!”  The creepers disintegrate when Lewis burns through them, wild fire drenched his hands.  He glimpsed Mystery when the timber cracks and ashes away; the dog gave him that familiar look, red eyes gleaming behind the spectacles as the dog descended to the ruined soil.  Mystery didn’t seem frazzled at all.  As soon as he hit the forest floor, he spun away and vanished into a clump of charred brush.

It must be somewhere, he can sense it nearby. Mystery sprints across the field of petrified trees, only slowing his steps as he nears the ancient edifice that the massive trees cower beneath.  There it is, above.  Mystery stares up at the network of locked vines, a deep frown sets into his face. The children didn’t deserve this.

“Back here!”  Lewis slammed his palms into the vines that built up the exoskeletons base pressing every ounce of his spirit fire into its shell, his eye sockets flashed bright with flames.  “I’m the one you’re fighting.”  The forest sprite twists away, and slung out with a bundle of its branches to tangle in Lewis’ suit and ribs.  Lewis shot backwards, a burst of fire pulsed off his suit scorching the grasping coils.

Lewis doesn’t check where he’s gliding towards, he’s gathering distance from the entity while he can.  He blazes through a curtain of branch tangled creepers and crashes among the fresh frost and roots of the soil.  A flurry of cinder spirals around his shape, intermixed with the black fuzz of ash.  For a moment he hovers, staring at the crisp night sky through the canopy; already vines stretch over blotting out the twinkling stars.  To what point, he wondered.  Lewis eased himself over and struggles to rise, lift off from the earth and escape the hissing ends of roots already poking through the soil.

Rapid foots steps crashed into the thicket and scrape to a stop near the dapper ghost.  “Shit!” Arthur’s voice.  “Lewis, you’re— ”

“Didn’t I tell you,” Lewis snarled, tried to.  His voice was thin and hollow, as if barely clinging to the breeze.  “I told you to get lost.”  Lewis coaxed his form upright and moved his legs beneath his body, as he lowers. “Dangerous.”

“Yeah?”  Arthur hobbled forward – hesitates when Lewis’ skull swiveled his way.  Arthurs ran a hand over his hair, and then thrust his arms out to grab the ghost by his suit lapels.  “S-since when is listening to you a priority?”  Lewis isn’t heavy but he drags, his shape resisting movement, unable to move under the same jurisdiction as solid mass; or maybe it was all in Arthur’s head.  “C’mon Lew, you can still walk!”

“It’s such a task.”  Lewis drifts after Arthur’s insistence, his arms hover near his locket unsure of what to do with them as Arthur forces him along.  He spins his skull back as the rasping lump of vines crashes between the tree branches, the wood sprite continues to wind coils of creepers into the charcoal of its shell.  If its focus hadn’t been diverted, the entity would have been upon them long ago.  

The branches curved and carried it, intermingling through its carapace to hasten the exchange of damaged kindling while simultaneously keeping it mobile and suspended from range.  It spasms when the head portion cocked, the bright globes along its neck glint in the moonlight as it locks onto the dark eye sockets of Lewis’ skull.  The wood sprite slings its body down, in the soil below roots are twisting forth from the crust of frost.

“Art’ur, you….”  Arthur gives a sharp squeal as Lewis grabs him by the neck and shoves him down, away from a clump of roots.  “Down!”  Flames burst across Lewis’ backside, as he slams a set of claws into the soil.  A spiral of fire races around Lewis’ conducted circumference, shredding through the quivering plant matter.  The locket sparks and fades from Lewis coat front, as the ghost drops his skull seeking with his fire; omitting, and targeting the core.  Arthur goes limp under his palm.  Lewis ignores him, the same as he ignores the black soot.

A jagged knife of flames blazes vertically from the icy floor around the edge of his spiraling flames. The roots and soil locked beneath the forest sprite erupt and sizzle, a thunder clap ignites on the shocked cold air. The inferno of fire zigzags up the center of the entities torso and throat, splinting the carapace shell into two jagged halves while is hangs in midair. The wounded spirit buckles and gives a wail that dies out in the same instant it was unleashed, the resonance of it steeps down into a ragged wheeze. Its eyes glimmered out one by one as its body begins to crumble into ash, and at the center of the coals is the turquoise translucent. The wood sprites soul glitters with starry beads, intermixed with blue-silver moon beams through its liquid mirage. Briefly, the dew and beads sparkle keenly one last time, then, shatter into vapor amid a cloud of black ash and embers.

The wild fire that had engulfed Lewis’ eye sockets evaporates a moment after, and the dark woods beneath the canopy are overtaken by a suffocating silence. His skull remains bare of recognition; he is a skull and a suit, a suit that is quickly decaying.

“Ssssafe.” It’s not tired he feels. Lewis lacks the body that would grow weary or need rest, he is absent of muscles and blood that would provide his being a sustaining mass that once he owned in life. What he is a consciousness, and it is clarity that begins to fail him first. A lack of sense and presence of this ‘being’. That is how he would describe it. It was the closets notion he felt to peace.

“The… the hell!” Arthur croaked, as he struggled to pry Lewis’ hand off his throat. Arthur struggles to get himself back on his feet, he can’t drag his eyes off the heap of ash smoldering on the frigid slush. He just sits there, Lewis hovering beside him – dipping sideways, all for the world looking like a stunned fish. Arthur was hesitant to move, his arms quiver beside him, even the hand that kept latched to Lewis pants leg. The heat was fading fast, what remained of the forest sprite was dissolving into a layer of thin cinder, the edges soaking into the fresh mud. Arthur coughs on the tart air as he turns to the spirit hovering, dazed. “We weren’t— Lew! That wasn’t part of the plan! Lewis?” Then Lewis does something Arthur doesn’t understand. “You okay? Hey.” Arthur quickly springs upright and stands back, as Lewis lowers to his feet. And falters. Wobbles.

“I don’t….” Lewis begins. Arthur stares at his torso and sides, and Lewis knows why. Lewis reaches a hand up for the locket, the distortion becoming worse when he realizes it’s not where it must be.  But it’s there, it has to be.  He sheilds the pseudo metal with bleached bone, and tugs it substance forth from smoky air. “I don’t feel right.”

The skull seems barely able to stay suspended above the suit collar, and Arthur has to take the coat lapels of the suit to keep Lewis upright. He gives Lewis a frail shake. “How’s a ghost supposed to feel?” Arthur mutters. “Lew? Talk to me! Screech or… anything! You’re scaring me!” Arthur isn’t sure if he should, but he does try to move Lewis’ hand away from where he knows the locket should be.

“I’m a little— ” He grips Arthur’s arm. That’s the bad one, isn’t it? Lewis grips the wrist of the prosthetic. The locket pulses its constant hum under his palm, its texture tarnished, transparent; it echos his stability with its muffled thrumming. Lewis pulls the side of his arm to shield his torso, where bleached ribs have been exposed through the dark ash of his suit; flakes fall away; losing more and more of himself. “Distant. Fading. Art, I— ”

Arthur gave up, and hauled Lewis over his good shoulder and let the ghost sag. This time he feels the weight. “Hold on,” Arthur pleads. “We’ll get back to the van. Just stay with me. Don‘t do this. Don‘t. Not here!” He pulls Lewis’ free arm across his chest and braces his arm over the empty sleeve, that way he can… he could grip the edge of the crisp white collar beneath the skull. Arthur snaps his hand back, there is literally nothing under that suit. But Arthur’s stuffs the thought aside, he’s wasting too much time. He grips the shirt collar and distributes the weight to the best of his ability. Arthur hesitates to refer to it as… deadweight. The skull dips forward and Lewis’ tightens his grip on Arthur’s wrist. “You gotta work with me here, Lew! This isn‘t the place! It’s not the time!” Arthur gets angry as he begins to walk, it’s not difficult but Lewis isn’t helping. “You can‘t do that to Vivi! She‘s waiting— !”

Then Lewis and the soft somewhat distant thud-thump of the locket are gone. No sparks, no nothing, just gone. Arthur blinks and gapes at the cold, open air at his shoulder, where a minute prior was occupied by Lewis. Before Arthur can properly register the sudden absence, he falls face first into the muddy slush.

__

What came first was the cold.  It penetrated his bones and seeped into his muscles, it lingered at the edges of his skin as he mindlessly reached out for a bright light.  Sounds were muffled by depth.  They weren’t even sounds, more like heavy vibrations blundering around his head, and the steady beating of his heart.

What happened?  Where am I?

Arthur vaguely remembered fire, smoke, cinder, screaming. His head full of screeching. Someone was screaming at him.

“Art!  Art! Come back!  Art!”  It was Lewis, trying to put motion back into his lungs.  Oh god, his head ached.  The thick smell of blood hung on the air, and the scent of it made his stomach twist on itself.  “Wake up! Please!”

The voice was no longer Lewis’, it was Vivi.  Arthur blinked his eyes at the girl as she kneeled over him, doing something to his chest.  His body was in pain, sharp needles nibbling through his joints.  When he moved a new swell of agony ripped through his veins, and Arthur was soon pitched over vomiting.

Vivi kept beside him, an arm slung under his chest as he heaves into the crystallized earth.  “Shit,” she choked.  “Oh my… dis, you stopped breathing.  I thought you were lost.”  She held onto Arthur as he spat.  “Take it easy, slow, shallow breaths.  Give yourself a chance to recover.”  She adjusts the torch braced at his shoulder, to angle it away from them.

Arthur groaned as he leaned back on his side.  Vivi pulled him by his vest, away from the foul mess. “Feels like a truck hit me.”  He raised a cold metal arm to his forehead and took another deep, careful breath.  Indeed, it felt as if his bones were knitting and his muscles were layered in old scars.  It was so similar….  “Lew’s. Where?”

“I don’t know,” Vivi murmured.  She placed a hand to Arthur’s forehead and smoothed his hair down. Arthur set his eyes on her hand holding the torch handle, something was wrapped in her fingers that glittered.  A chain.  Soon though, Vivi’s attention slipped off him and she regarded the blackened soil coated in ash, gray mist was rising from shattered chunks of bark. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Embers, cinder, the forest sprite squealing as it was hacked in two.  Arthur shuddered.

“Vi.  He….” Arthur didn’t want to let on what happened, what very well could have happened.  

“I sometimes need distance.”

“How’s Dimitri holdin’ up?”  Arthur sat up a bit more, and Vivi helped him stay upright.  The moon had tracked far across the sky, was nearly out of sight beyond the tallest most trees that formed the canopy.  Evidence of the struggle lay across the soil in shattered vines, sizzling coals, and dry mud tinged by the edges of ice chunks. It was difficult for Arthur to make out where he had dropped.  His head hurt like nothing he ever felt, but that didn’t surprise him.  He sat shaking violently, and could hardly wrap his arms around his middle.  Nothing helped.

“He’s recovered, more or less,” Vivi answered.  She slung off her backpack and rummaged around within, until she brought out some kind of cloth.  Smelt like medical gauze.  Arthur winced when she pressed it to his head.  He could see what was twisted over her fingers, it was the chain and the rock. The one Vivi had carved for Dimitri. “Your bleeding stopped.  We need to get you back to the van.”  As she helped Arthur to his feet, Arthur reached out to touch protection talisman.  The most his mind could manage was touching it, and when Vivi saw him grip the stone she tensed and blurted, “The kids!”

“Hmm?” Arthur wobbled, and felt the nausea like a hot weight in his throat.  Vivi guides him to the side of a tree, its bark torn and blackened.  Arthur focused his blurring vision on the blocky alligator texture of its surface in the yellow beam of the torch.  He thought his flashlight was lost.  Why did she have Dimitri’s totem?  So many questions, they swirled in a thick film drowning his thoughts. “What kids?  Are they… they’re safe?”  Lewis had done the complete opposite of what they had been trying to pull off, the thought of made Arthur sick all over.

“I had to leave him and the others at the van,” Vivi elaborated, in a most creative way.  That was a relief, though Arthur’s mind was foggy concerning who exactly these kids were. Vivi was going too fast.  “Mystery came back with every one of them.”  Then her voice faded, and she glanced from Arthur to examine the evidence.  She skimmed her light slowly over the ruptured creeper vines, ashy remains of leaves. “Did Lewis… nullify the hostile?”

Arthur leaned heavily on the tree and tries to nod.  “I don’t know if it’s gone for good,” he wheezed, and coughed a bit.  The chill was rough in his burning throat, he must’ve been passed out a good while.  He stopped breathing.  “Has to be.  If I were it, I would’ve booked it too.”  He didn’t care how his words would be taken, he couldn’t care.  He wanted to get out of the cold and lie down.  “I’m not in hot shape,” he mumbled.  “I don’t think I can—” Arthur shut his mouth when Vivi heaved his body up over her shoulder and hauled him off, the toes of his shoes kicking against ashy rock as she ran, panting.  Why was she so strong?

“Hang in there Art.  I know you hit your head pretty hard, but try not to grease me.”  Vivi fixed the backpack straps on her shoulders and began hiking off through the thicket.  “I wouldn’t blame you, but try and give me warning?”

“Yeah,” Arthur burbled.  It was only a mile or something back, he could hold out.  Arthur hung his head as Vivi carted him over her shoulder, his own backpack dug into his side.  “Vi,” he said.  “I’m sor— ”

“We have to hurry,” she states, eyes fixed forward.  “Whatever the spirit used to preserve those kids, it’ll be wearing off and none of them are dressed for the cold.  Mystery’s doing all he can.”

Arthur sighed.  “He’s a good dog.”

By the time Vivi had reached the cinder block wall that segregated the wild forest and the cultured zone of man’s domain, Arthur was nearly able to walk on his own.  His body just couldn’t take her shoulder digging into his abdomen, and Vivi let him down and eased the weight of his body over her shoulder.

Ten children plus Dimitri sat in the back of the van, huddled in blankets and with each other.  Mystery was in their midst, watching as Vivi loaded Arthur in. Dimitri hardly looked up from hugging one of the boys, probably his brother, dressed in Powerpuff pajamas.  The smaller boy doesn’t look all there, but he’s talking and asking questions.

“Who’s he?” the thin, little voice says.  In his hands he clutches the ugly, splint sock monster as if it is his lifeline

“A friend,” Dimitri murmurs.  Lewis jacket was draped over the two boys, and Dimitri pulled the frayed edges of the jacket around his brother.  He glanced up at Arthur as he staggers by.  No words pass between them, and Dimitri hugs his brother a little tighter.

The door of the van creaked shut as Vivi climbed in.  Arthur limped his way around the kids and joined her at the front, leaning over the bench seat.  “What we do?” he asked, crossing his arms over the seats back and laying his chin on them.  He let his head tilt and hang, his eyes gazed out at the streetlamps burning blurrily in the hazy cold air.  Stars and glitter, he couldn’t get those images out of his head.

For a long moment Vivi is silent, and Arthur waits.  She hunted around for the key, until Arthur managed to slip off his backpack and dug around in its interior.  She went ahead and started the engine and began driving. The creeping edges of soft blues mingled in the distant horizon, above hills and mountains of a far off terrain.  Vivi rubbed at her eyes, and poked at a dirty Styrofoam cup in the cup holder.

“We’ll leave the kids at Dimitri’s house,” she says, at long last. Arthur watched as her knuckles tighten over the steering wheel.  He wanted to say nothing, but he was afraid to speak up.  Vivi was too strong for her own good.  “I don’t know how long the influence of the sprite will last, if its broken now.  We’ll have to call out some Demonologists to check the area, make certain.”

It hurt to still consider the case a failure after what they had been through.  It wouldn’t be the first time.  Lewis could still be there lost or waiting, there was really no telling.  Once they were recovered, they would return to look for him.  The state that he and Vivi were in now, they couldn’t risk it.  Going back was a bad gamble too, if it was still waiting, weakened. It was going to be a struggle for Arthur to keep Vivi from rushing off once the kids were safe.

“We were so unprepared,” she muttered, and leaned forward onto the steering wheel.  Vivi kept her eyes fixed on the road; traffic was nonexistent.  Arthur would’ve offered to drive, but he was in no condition.  “I had hoped we’d learned.”

“We didn’t know,” Arthur spoke.  He reached his metal arm over and set his hand on her shoulder.

“You said, and I— ”

“Fuck what I said,” Arthur snapped.  He winced, partly from the sudden tension digging through his skull, but mostly he didn’t mean to shout.  In front of the stunned kids.  He listened a moment as Dimitri’s brother made irrelevant inquiry, and Dimitri answered each concern the young sibling had.  He hoped they wouldn’t remember, that they would forget quickly. “We’ve put a stop to something that had been going on for a too long time.  We saved a bunch of kids.”  He paused there.  Vivi stopped at an intersection and bided her time before turning the van, heading through a familiar neighborhood.  “We’ll tell the Demon hunters what we found, and they won’t make the same mistakes we made. They’ll fix this if….”  He let his voice trail off.  He wasn’t sure if his words were helping, they felt pointless. Vivi was worried, he was worried, they were exhausted and in pain.  Well, he was in pain.

A voice drifts up behind Arthur, and he feels a chill go down his spine.  “Where’s Lewis?”

Arthur turns around, fumbles around in the dark for the camping lamp and manages to turn it on.  “We’re you hurt?” Arthur asks.

Dimitri shakes his head slowly.  His brother stares at Arthur, while sucking his thumb.  The arm that pressed the fists to his mouth is looped around Dimitri’s neck, tightly.  “I fell down, that’s it.”

Arthur nods.  “What’s your brother’s name?”

Dimitri looks as if he’s unwilling to share the information, or was put off by the questions, but he answers.  “Luther.  I think he’s six now.”

“Hey Luther.”  Arthur reaches his good arm over, and the littler boy grasps his hand.  They shake.  “Your big brother was looking for you.”  Luther stares at Arthur but doesn’t comment; in his hand he clutches the broken pieces of the filthy cloth toy.  Its button eyes glimmer fiercely in the lamp light beside them.

Mystery works on untangling himself from a cluster of children, to lean towards a girl and lick at her face.  There-there, all’s better now.  The girl gives a small sniffle and plows into Mystery’s shoulder, arms wrapping over the hounds neck.  Mystery gives Arthur a pleading look as other children turn and pile around the dogs sides. Arthur coughs up a small laugh. Mystery was at times too tolerant, but he was a marvel.

By the time they reached Dimitri’s home, the sky was awash with purples and pinks of the dawn.  The van doors open, and Dimitri helped Arthur and Vivi unload the lost children at the edge of the yard.  Arthur stays with Mystery in the van, but Dimitri was enough to help Vivi guide the dazed cluster along the sidewalk path.  The group had been asleep for so long, any remaining fatiguing was far beyond their comprehension.  Removing them from the forest sprites realm helped, but it would take time for them to recover fully.    

“I’m sorry,” Dimitri said, as Vivi herded the small pod to the porch of the household.  The jacket had since been transferred to Luther, who swayed beneath Dimitri’s hands. Dimitri had to roll up the shoulders a good deal to keep Luther from stepping on and stumbling over the coat edges scuttling along the ground.  “I… I shouldn’t have done that.  I shouldn’t… I’m sorry.”

Vivi nibbled at her lip, and stood motionless for a moment beside Dimitri.  Dimitri had stopped as well, but wouldn’t look at her.  “Take care of your brother,” she said.  She pulled Dimitri a little closer and leaned down to kiss him on the head.  “I know you will.”

Dimitri nods.  Luther stood beside him, looking from his brother to the girl.  “I hope you find him,” Dimitri murmured.  He snatched his hands from Luther’s shoulder to rub at his face.  “I didn’t mean to call him a monster.  I’m sorry,” he wheezed.  “Tell him… tell him when you find him.  I’m sorry. I’m so stupid.”

Vivi lowered to her knees and took Dimitri’s face between her palms.  “Shh, don’t say that,” she cooed.  “Dimi… Ethan. Listen to me.  You did nothing wrong.  You were scared, there’s no shame in that.  The last thing Lew would want is for you to be upset, because you were frightened and said some things.  Just words. Please don’t cry.”

“It was Lewis,” Dimitri whimpered.  Luther stares at Dimitri, as his older brother flops to his knees and wraps his arms around Vivi.  “It was Lewis,” he whimpered.  “I called him a monster.  He was trying to protect me, and I… I called him a monster.  How could I?”

Vivi held onto Dimitri and patted the back of his head.  She looked at the other children waiting, staring, aimless and confused, still lost in the fog of their dreams.  Despite it all she managed a small smirk when Luther plopped down beside them, and put his arms around them.  “You need to get these kids out of the cold.  Ethan, they’re relying on you,” Vivi hums.  “You started this.”

He nodded against her shoulder.  “Tell him,” he mumbled.  “I’m sorry.” Vivi pushed Dimitri up and dried his tears with the end of her scarf.  “Please.”

“I will,” Vivi says.  She reached behind her neck and unclipped a chain.  Dimitri raised a hand to the little carved stone, as Vivi fastened the clasp behind his head.  “That whole monster thing.  He’ll have a good laugh.  Him of all people, a monster?”  Dimitri sniggered, and gripped the totem to his chest.  “Now take these kids, and go jump on your dad.”  Vivi pulls Dimitri and Luther to their feet, and guides them towards the front door of his home.  She gently moves the other kids to follow over the frost encrusted lawn, and they pursue Dimitri without protest.  Luther gave a little wave to Vivi, as his brother led him away by the hand.  The children trail nebulously after Dimitri, as he steps up onto the leaf cluttered alcove of the porch.

Mystery was on the passenger seat of the van barking at his companions when they returned.  He plopped into the center seat as Vivi and Arthur took position on either side of the hound.  Arthur nearly toppled out as he reached to pull the side door shut, but Mystery caught the back of his puffy vest and jerked the thin figure back into his seat.

“Worse that can happen,” Vivi said, as she put the van into drive.  “Someone tries and link us with the disappearances.”  She gains speed.  “I did check. That was all the missing kids. Thank gods.”

Arthur pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs.  “The college will credit us being far from the area,” he says.  “I suppose they’ll want an informal report.  Completely off record….”  He takes a breath and pressed a hand to his forehead.  “Mystery.  Can you… I need some water.”

Mystery gives a light bark and leaps over the bench seat.  His paws plop down onto the back and Arthur can hear him rummage around.

“Thank you,” Arthur mumbles, when he’s handed the bottle.  He feels the exhaustion nestle heavily behind his eyes and the road begins to sway, gently, side to side.  The bottle in his metal hand feels icy in his grip, and he cracks it open and takes a swig.  Arthur makes a sound in his throat when he gags and leans over.  “Vi.  Vi.  I need….”

“Hold on.”  Vivi waits till they’re clear of the neighborhood, before pulls off to the side of the road.  It’s a smaller park built for the younger generation, full of colorful play equipment, swings, a few trees glittering with ice.  Vivi leaves the van on idle, the soft putter of the engine almost relaxing to Arthur’s throbbing head.  “Lemme see the water.”

A bark comes from the back, and Mystery suddenly appears balanced on the seat back, one of Arthur’s ripped shirts grasped in his teeth.  Vivi thanks him and takes the shirt.

“Hey… s’good work shirt,” Arthur protests, as Vivi pours a bit of the frigid water on the cloth.

“It’s clean,” Vivi retorts.  She pulls her legs up under her on the middle seat and massages some of the dirt and blood from Arthur’s face.  He’s startled by how red and filthy the shirt is when Vivi draws her hand back.

Then she stops, staring at Arthur with an expression he thought he knew but… he doesn’t understand the stare.  Gently, she touches Arthur’s cheek and leans in a little closer, he can feel the scrutiny clawing at his consciousness.

“How bad is it?” Arthur asks.  He reaches up and touches the clean spot on his skin.

“Hold on a sec,” Vivi mutters.  She uses the damp shirt to clean off a little more of the soot and dirt and turns Arthur’s head to the side, to face the brightening colors of the dawn.  Arthur squirms under her unnerving gaze, but Vivi holds him steady.  “Look at me.”

“Vi?”  Mystery whines at them.  The dog drops off the seat into the back and begins pacing around.  “Vi?  What happened?  Am I— ”

Vivi shuffles a bit away from Arthur and sits in the driver seat, legs folded under her.  “Um… Art. Look in the mirror.”

Frightened, apprehensive, confused, Arthur leans up and turns the mirror down so he can see into it.  His face has an ugly scratch up the side of his brow, but it should heal without—

Arthur gagged.  That burning sensation burrows through his throat, and he felt an icepick dig at his temple.  “My EYES!” He pulls his eyelids down, and feels something cold twist in his chest.  No… no it couldn’t, how could it be?  It’s not possible, it was insane.  What happened was… he fell onto his face, a little bleeding in his eyes. That’s all.  Completely harmless, he’d had this before, they would heal and he would never know the difference.

But he knew that was not Hyphema.  The color was in his iris, rich, Alive.  “Those are not my eyes.”  He managed to stammer that, before a dark cloak swept through his peripheral and he felt the falling.  That same distortion of weightlessness that haunted his nightmares surged through his body, when he failed to awake before the impact.  Heat in his veins, fire in his brain, nerves frayed.  Body broken.  

Thick blots pulsed in his vision, growing large and thicker as he plummet down-down and down.  Vivi said something, tries to sooth him, but he was beyond that.  His head hit something warm, soft, and Vivi pawed at his shoulders to save his face from another painful bump.  He smelt the cinder and the harsh acrid smoke from the clearing, the screeching of that thing when it disintegrated— all swept away in a flash of cold.  The contrast jarred him, he had since been accustomed to that burning smell in everything, could hide it with a bad habit.  It made him think of the stoves in the back of the kitchen, where he sometimes waited for shifts end.  Such days, long-long ago, distant days.  He didn’t want to lose those memories.

There was something more occupying his collapsing awareness. A presence.  Hot but patient, waiting for him.  He could feel the sensation, a piece of something that was foreign, intrusive. It was horribly familiar, like the first time he had seen….

“Lewis.” Was in Arthur’s thoughts.  “Lewis.  Is… that you?”

“Just shut up and sleep, Artie.”