Maisie — face veiled — slowly walked with a heavy sway to the middle of the room, ready for her routine. The cultists shared tense looks, stilling as they reluctantly accepted the situation. Their harsh gaze was like a flickering forked tongue, being retracted. Still, the pressure was there — as if asking what's the meaning of this?
From the table closest to the floral arch, a handsome, youthful priest stood up and came to the girl.
"To start the ceremony, please, follow our custom, dear widows."
Interlocking their fingers together, he raised her limp arm.
"Please go around the floor, make a circle and..."
He straightened himself next to Maisie. then cleared his throat. as if on cue, they both began skipping across the room in dance. What a hard juxtaposition, a man on his 'special day' and a depressed bride who practically begged to be anywhere else.
"Make a chain like this, a fairy circle! – around our widow of honor, Miss Maisie. And just like that, our wedding will commence."
Watching everyone get into position, Catheris cautiously observed his surroundings.
Please pop it when the ceremony begins, Beo said. He found himself lingering on 'begin' when this was the opening act. The Bureau Agent was... asking for a timely interruption, it seemed.
Catheris sheepishly trotted to the ring, interlocking fingers with the pink-haired and blue-haired widows.
"I told you we'd catch you later." The pink-haired widow on his right murmured, stifling a chuckle as she accepted Catheris' hand.
"Likewise."
It was a lively ring with such lovely ladies, the embodiment of a spring meadow – compared to them, his heron theming seemed out of place. What was up with that anyway? But really, they had so much to live for when this necromancy conspiracy inevitably failed.
The priest let go of Maisie's hand as soon as he scanned the room and found everyone was in an orderly ring. He was ready to start the dance.
"Are you ready?" The blue-haired widow on his left whispered.
Catheris gently whispered back, "More than I've ever been."
Though his head must've still been jumbled from the cheesy talk with Mr. Kelcer, he had to accept it, so yes, Catheris supposed he was ready.
"I'd hope so. It's a pretty simple warm-up dance~"
Ah. That's right, he never signed up for an activity.
Still – it looked easy enough, he could manage. If anything, he'd be guided by the rhythm of everyone else.
After the priest clapped, the music began. The tune was light and whimsical, fantasy-like in its quirky composition that came straight from a children's tale. The circle started slow, with the widows kicking their feet back and forth in synchronized motion. As it started to pick up pace, it turned into practically leaping sideways.
The 'wedding' would mark the end of the beginning of all the friendships formed in this shady mansion. The widows were all giddy, shaking one another in excitement.
Catheris felt weightless, dancing on a dreamy flower field as he began to feel warmth flowing into his chest – the kind that came from seeing everyone experience that once-in-a-lifetime fleeting happiness.
Pop!
What the–
His front strands violently shook across his face. Catheris could barely shift his head to see what the widow on his left was doing, pulling him so harshly and so suddenly that his wrist popped. But when he faced forward again, it looked intentional, a smooth, fast-paced wave as everything — besides him — moved in tandem.
– Oh saintesses, it was a damned mobius strip movement. How much more insufferable and plain obvious could they push this?
Catheris was nauseous from the inertia, the feeling pooling in his stomach. He couldn't even cover his mouth, so he grit his teeth to stop himself from vomiting. It was so dizzying – he didn't even know where to put his eyes.
As the routine was nearing its end, he was so lightheaded. Fuck, his hair felt so static-ey. Cupping his head, he still felt like he was on air. As the dance ended, he frantically remembered the string in his chest. His hand shook as it hovered over the thread in his chest. Catheris almost keeled over as he followed the widows who were grouping up in a circle in the middle, still dancing in a spiral.
His head felt heavy, time stilling as he felt the cold in his veins crawl up to his head. He cringed at the fragile feeling ringing through every nerve. The scene before him froze, and drained of color. His eyes widened into insanity, pupils shrinking.
Possession...?
An inky snake slithered through, becoming a cloud of black and obscuring the priest's face. It moved to form a devilish theater mask expression on the man's face. Whatever it was distorted the rules of reality, pitching his voice up so high it started glitching, leaving a headache-inducing dingy echo - so impossibly high it could crack the barrier between the supernatural and human plane.
"N̴̨̧̧̛̛̗̝͖̘̬̘̖̼̯͉͓̭̮̤̼̘͈̹̻͔̱̺̹̜̣̘̟̲̭̬͖̹̤̺̲͕͎̠̹̭͓̗̺̣̖͔̐̉̈́̓̀̽̊͂́̊͗̀̋͛̏͌͌̾̀̔̃̓̒̀̀̂͑͑͒͑̒̾̔̌̐͂̇̔̿̇͘̚͘̚͝͠o̸̩̣̭̭̠̝̝̰͓̓̓̇͊͌̉̑̄̃̑̒͐͗̅͌̐̏͌̇̌̅̋̓̑̿̈́̽̇͂͐̐̆̂̃͋̍̽̒̐̃͋̕̕̕̚͠͝w̷̢͕̹͙̖̱̥̮͇̐͐͗͗̕͘ ̴̢̢̓́͂̃̐̒̀͛̎͘͘̕m̴̢̢̢̨̰̟͍͉̠͙͓̙̭͕̺̪͇͚͇̩̯̫͉̯͕̖̻͚͙̹̘͉̮̬̞̠̦̹̜̹̱̰͍̘̈́̇̇̎̕͘͜͜͜͜ͅͅa̷̧̧̧̡̨̛͙͓̲̰̱̗͍̜̥̜̠̰͉̝̹̲̯͈̲̟̞̳̰̖̝̤͔͉͎̱̰̯̖̫̟̣̳͚̘͑̀͊͂̓̎́͋̌̋̆̋̇̉̊̇͐͜͝ÿ̶̺͖̳̫͔̣̼͈̮̭̳̤͇̞̥̘́̈́͛͛̈́̌̉̇̉̀͒̂͋́̇̒͘̚ͅͅ ̸̡͈̣͇̜͙̣͙̼̱̲̙̹̜͍̲͉͍̥̺͔̖̬́͐̆̄͂̈̂̑̇͆̄͗̐͜͝͝ͅͅͅc̸̢̧̝͙̟̝̮̼͈̲͈̙͈̻̰̜̬̺̼̓́̈̊͐͋̌̊̊̆̈̀̚͜ò̷̧̨͎̜̥̲̼̦̮̺̀̀́̉̒̿̓̽́͒̆̉̃̓̿͋͆̚̚͝͠m̵̛͈̺̫̮͉̳̜̓̔̾͌̓̿̊͌̀̀̇̐͌̃̽̐̀̑͐̎̚̚̚͝m̷̡̧̭̹̞̞̙̹̼͔͔̝̤̖͓̜̹͍͓̬͖̗̦̟̮̥̤̯̣͚͇̟͒͊̀̔͂́̀͆̿͋̾̈́͑͛́̑̒̋̀̈́̈́͒͌͑̊̕e̴̢̛̤̟̦̳̻͇͎̞̩̺̜̞̣̐̉̉͛͛͗̽́̒͋́̈̓̈́̿̒̍͐̅̌͑̒̀̾̊̍̌̔̄̚͘͠ͅṉ̵̨̡̻͇̹̻̙̖̤͕̗̗̜͓̠̻̒͠c̴̨̡͖̥̪̗̻̰̤͙̻͓̼͈̭̰̖̤̻͎̭̞̙͚̹̯̻̬̫̯͙͈̗̻̫͍͔̝͙̱̣̳̣̟̃̿̀̾̐̊̓͊̈̀̽̿͌̔̾͊̿͌̐̋̿̈́͜͠ͅͅͅę̶̧̡̡̨̧̖̝̻̦̻̮̳̱̪̱̬̘͖̺̰̟̺̳̥͉̘̰̥͇͙͉̺̝̫̲͚̟̪͖͙̮̪͓̠͈̄̓̀̍̈̓͊̾͂̀͌̍́̉̃̽̂̓̾͑̓̑̓̂̌̔͑̾͂́́͌̈́̊̕͠͝͝͠ͅ ̴̢̨̛͍̣̘̻͍̮͓̞̯̫̹̩̬̱̙͖͎̹̱̬̩̳͔͚͊̂̑͋̈́̄̐̋͂̈́̈̓͝ţ̷̧̧̛̛̭̖̻̹̯̱͓̤̝͎̜̗͚͈̘͎̪͇͎͍̦̙̽̎̃̑̿̄͛̑̀̈́͛̈́̅͗̀̇͗̇ͅh̵̡͚̤͙̪͎̝̮̤̻͈̻͚̝̹͇̥̪͉̝͉̭̪̥͈̿̔̕e̶̢̛̛͎̩̺̥̹̥̜̩̳̙̤̭̦͖̬̩͍̲͔̝̣͇̞͋͊͆̐́̀̽́̾̍̊́̉̏͒̏̓̔̋̌͛̏́̄͛͌́͋̌͌̏̽̉̿̓̔̒́̈́͆̀̚͘̚͘͝͠ ̶̢̢̡̨̨̡̛̩̜͎̺̹̼̮̳͈̰͈̣̟̦̻̮͔̖̝̻̤͈̟̞̖̣͉͉͔̲͍̗̝͈̻͕̭̺̓̈́͒̏̏̐͂̋́̿̍̉͋͒̒͊̀̚̚͜w̷͙̯͔͖̑̂̎͛̅͋̈́̉̔̄̀̈́̈́͋̌̃̐͆̄͋̀̒̑̽̌̓̆̀̆̕̚̕̚͠͠e̷̡̧̧̧̢̢̘̪̥̜̩̺͖͕͈̤͔̣̤͇̦̫̝̜͔̬͙̺̲̼̝͇̳͉̻̯͍̗̙̹̘̰̪̅̅͌͒̿́̓͆͊̒̈́̿̍͗͒̾̾̍̂̀̊̔͗̊̓̏͊́̉́̂̎̚̚͘͠͝͝͝ͅd̸̨̧̧̛̥̮̣̤̣̭̠͓̫̰̬͈̦̬̗͔͙̣͙͍̪͖͓̼͕̰̙͓̳͔̲̯̣̙̣͉̻̘̏̂͂̇͆͂̃̒͋́̓̂ͅd̶̨̖̹̩̯̗̲͕̠̯͉͙̦̫̲̰̯̱̼͓͉̥͓̲̖̥̞̊͗̈̓̏̓̐̆̋̒̀̏̆̌́͋̈i̵̢̼̞̤͎̰͓͚̬̥̤̹̣̲͉͖͉̥̟̞͍͇̮̜͈̼̰̝͖̘̒̿̆͒͌͌͒̅͂̅͌̓͋̋̽̒̀̅̔̽͒̈́̂̍̃͒̏̑̐̓͋̓̿͘͘͜͜͝͝͠͠͠ͅͅn̸̢͓̣̣͕̹̱̞̼̪̭͈̙̭̻̗͓͖̳̩̑̇̀͑̓́̄̓̀͑̆̈͐̒͋͌́̾̿͌̒̈́̔́̃̈́̈́̿̏̑͛̀͋̐̆̉̀̕̕͠͝͝g̴̨̧̛̣̝͙͙̤̗̮̝̞̹̯̮̞̱̿̀̄̅͊͛̽̇͘̚͝.̸̨̢̛̣̭̣͉̘̮͕̞͔̹̱̬̥̟̹̖̟͍͕̩̦̟̻͍̰͙̥̣͙͖̭̌̀̇͛̄̋̐̄̀͛̌̂͛̀̈́̋̔́̕̕̕͘̕̕͝͝ ̵̡̡̨̳͙͔̮͇̣͔͎̟̝͈̙͕̳͖͖̟͍̝̦̼̞̱͚̘̯̙͇̦͔̱͆͌͒̆͋́̀͛̀͗͛͗̐̔̋̔̐͒̽̊̀̑̆́̊̐̀̀̐́̈́̕͜͝͠͠ͅḘ̷̛̛͊̍̇̊̊̓̆̒͗̀͛̋͑̂́̈́̈́͗̍͝v̵̨̧̨̧̡̠̟̭͎̪͇̦̻̫̱̤͍̦͍̬̠̼̮̜̭̝̳̤̣̳̭̞̲̟̪̩̬̈́́̀͐͐̉͆̈́̈́̏ͅͅë̷̺́͠͠r̵̢̨̰̝̯̻̟̰̭͍̗̥̯͕̯̰̻͚̘̽̉̒̐̈́͒́͋̂̾͌͜͝ÿ̶̢̧̙͇̠̘̥̜̖̤̻͙̯͍̻̹͚̲̲̳͚̦͇̳̗̠́̍̈́̋̋͋̈́͋́̊̾̋͆̾́͂͋̄͐͛͂͌͒̿̊̆͊͂̌̄̎̏͑̍͋̈́͜ͅớ̴̧̘͔̬̟͍̳͚̗̼̼͕̮̞̙̣͍͕̰̀̔̊̒̃͒̇̍͆̅̒̽̈́͗̊̔͘̚̚̕̕͝n̴̦̰̈́̆̄̽̀̈́͒̄͋̊̆͋̉̀̅̉̽͋̈́̆͊̋̒̓͌͌̀̒̌̈̑̒́̽̑̉̓͋̿̈́̌̑̕͠͝͠ȩ̵̛͍̟͓̉̔͒͋̇̔̓͌̄͘͝,̵̱̀̓͗̃̉̇̍͑̏͋̐̄͗́̓͂̒̿ ̷̢̡̨̫̩̺̘̣͉̟̭̮̱̭͈̣͚̗͕͙͈̦̹͚̼̤̬͈̥͖̬̲͈̦̬̟̙͖͂͛̄̉̋͛̐̉͆̂̐̅͗̈́̓͗̈́̇̏̌̈́̈́̂̔̇̇̈́̑̊̀̆̂̂̀̔̉̅̐̂́̐͘͘͘͘͜͜͠͝ͅb̴̨̛̩̙̫͎̖͍̼͚͚͈̣̰͍̫̼͍̞̮̞̟̠͉͚͇̯̮̤͎̠̻͇͈̹͇̭̋̒̄̀͗̅̋͊͊͐͘͜͜͠ͅͅę̸̨̡̧̨̧̜̯̳̼̤͎̹͓̝̲͎͙̩̩̰̗̞̯̰͕̰̥̝̤͔̠̩̼̯̹̻̱̌̿̾̃͊̑̑̾̽̉̓̈́̑̈́̑̊̑̊̏̂̒̾̀̌̇̉̽̒͐͘̕͘̕͜͝ͅg̷̨̨̢̧̞̗̼͖̪̪̙̘̦̰̳̹̝̺̹̟̯̞̖̮̩̜͈̟̥̠̺͈͉͈̞̻͍̩̦̱̭̦̮̥̠͑͒̓̐̏̎̊͜͝ͅi̷̭͛̅͗̊͐̈́͌͑̇̐̽̂̽̽̋́́̈́͊̏̇̈́̎̾̀̀̐̓̓̀̒͂͐̑͌͗͗̕̕͘͝͠͝͠͠n̴̢̻̪͔̮̤͍̠͍͈̙͕̺̙̗͔̮̱͈̘̤̰̺͓̙̕͜ ̷̨̢̧̨̨̨̦̣̖͚̘̭̤͉͉̮͕̥̰͔̙̼̙͙̮͉̜̺̳͙̖͉̤̪͈̟̑͐̔̈̓͐͜͜͝ͅỳ̴̨̧̡̢̡̜͖͓̹̥͉̠͔͉̘̞͕͉̤̎̌̊̓̊̾͗̍͆͑̒͗̉̈́́̒͆͌̍̓̆̑̑͆͂͆̅̈̇̇̍̊́̑̈́̀͘̕͜͠ơ̶̦̦͔̥̱̪̮͉͓͉̣̤̤͇͎͎͈̋̇͒̂͒̀̾͗͗̑͋̓͊͊̃̉͛͑͂̔̕̚̕ͅȕ̵̢̡͖̠̭̮͉̺̤̤̪͇͈̥̫͜ṙ̵̡̨̢̨̨̢̛̜̳͔̪̠̮̦͉̝͇͖͔̭̳̮̠̮̝̫͎̤͎̹̯̞̺̼̘͚͕͈̟̱͖̙̘̖̙̖͍̩̐̂͐͛͌͋̎̿̂̓̏̅̌͛̓͛̆̿̊̾̕͝ͅ ̵̛̱͉͎̞̪̪̗͕̙̰̖̦̟̌͛̽̑̉͋͂̿̋̍̇͌̂̂̽̎͛̕͠ͅͅp̷̢̛̤͔͙͈̰̼̫̥̮̯̩̲͉͔̗̳̱͓̥̬̭̤̮̼͉̪͓͍̳̻͎̫͎̥͑̏͂͂͋͌͊̉̇̀̏̌͋͊̆̂̊͗̂̈́̔͂̂̽͛͋̃̐̉̅̽͆͐̍̐̑̐̅͌̎̌̾̕̕͠͝͠͝͝ͅr̸̡̧̛̛̠͇̹̗̟̲͖̺̼̻̯̥͎̖̩̙̭͎͓̬͈̖̻͎̭̞͖̪͙̺̗̞̼͔̪̪̪̖͉͎̖͉̩̅̒̔͒̄͒̾̀́̂̀͋͆̐̓̎̏͆̇͊̆͛̀̄̎́̓̽̏͐̇̆́̑̔̌͆̓͂̚̕̕̕͜͝͝ͅą̶̨̪̰͍̝̥̦̹̠̮̳̜̱̫͔̹͈̟̪̖̝̦̣̖͎̥̰͙̦̤͖͈̤͍̗͍͙̻̓̈́͆͋̓̈́͆͊̓̎͗͗͜͜͠͝͠y̷̹͈͚͓̳͈̦̪͖͚̓̾̂̀̔̋̎̌͐̀̌̓̀̏͗̔̏̇̑̾͐̊́͑͗̂̍͐̌̉͂̈́͆̉͐̊̃͊̊̂̕̚̚͜͝͠e̵̡̛͉̦͎̫̩͆͆̓̇̍̄͐̈͑̿̽͐̀̈́̋̐̾̌̄̔͌͛̉͐̄̂̂̆̃́̋̒́̓̑̄̍̚̚̕̕̚͘͘͝͝͝r̵̡̢̢͕̟̱̖̻̳̬͙͔͕̪̥̱͗̏͊͂̓̈̈̇̇͑͐̅̌͌̿̑̽̓̀̒͐̎͘̕̕͘͝͝͠s̴̛͖͓͓̥͙̫̲̺͇̟̪͚̰͌́̈́́͐̌̍̀͋̀̈̏̉͑̈͂̾̓̿̍̐͒̄̃̀̏̏̔͗̏̃̋̀́̈́̊͆̕͘̚͝͝͝ ̷͓̠̘̄͂̃̈́̽̽̂̄̋̏̏͌̀̍̾̈́͐͑̿͛́̀͊̂͌̑͗̓͊̕̚f̷̻͔͖͇͙̘͉̼̜̖̗̹̭̰̤̺̺̟̱̦̹̤̄̍̇̄͂͜͝ò̶̻̐͗̓̌̆͒͌̃̓̃͑͘̚͠ŗ̶̢̛̯̼͈͚́̍̉̄̆͛̈́̒́͐̉́̓̄̊͐̌͒̍̆̏͂͒̓̃̅̍̐̈́͆̚̕͘̕̕͜͠ ̶̨̧̨̢̨̨̨̨͙͍͎̼̭̦̥̦̭̻̺̞̙̘̳͖͎͕̜̦̪̼͎̙̼̳̖̱̲̥̲̬̝̦̪̱́̓̐̀͂̓̉̐̅̈́̍͑̌͛͒̇̈́̍͛̾͋̿̿͐͗̈́̾̀̎̚͜͠͝͠ͅͅţ̷̡̢̡̜͕͔̱͔͔̦͍̞͇̠̘̦̪̙͓̰̺̜͖͎̰̭͓̤͙͔̪͍̪̯̪͉̼̝̟̙͉̲̊͑̉̄̐̾̄̽̒͑͒̽͒̋͐̊͒͋̈́͒̕͝ͅͅh̶̡̢̡̨̡̛̛̟̙̼̱͕̼̗̗͍͖͈̝̺̤͈̟̻̞̗͔͎̟͔̲̗͖̻̣̲̬͇̭̭̤̮̝̯͊̾̂̿͛͌̽͐̿̽̿́̋̍͑͆̀̓̍͐͐͘̚͜͝͠ę̵̛̛̰̯̟̳̲̩͓̙̖̠̰̟̘͈̲̬̻̙̠̰͕̺̦̹̘͉̠̍̾̾̅̾̇̈́̈́̓̈́̈̌̑̈́͌͋̋̓͑͗̌̑̒̄͒͂͑́̀̅́̋̀́͗̾̕̕̚̚s̷̡̡̮̫̳͉͍̮̞̘̥͉̠̪͙̫͙͎̑̾̿̀̾̌̋̅̾̕̚͝ͅͅe̵̡̛̛̛̛͓̖̯̙͈̯͇̝͚̙͍͍̜̺͎̞̙͕̻̗̻͍̣̠͓̪̹̗͓̞͈͎͇̣͇͈̤̲̓͆̍̆̈́́̏̈́̂͗̽̀̉̎̇̑̑̃͒͆͛̒̌̃̊̅̽͆̌́̇̃̈́͆́̌͛͗̃̓̑͜͝͝ ̴̨̡̨̧̢̛̫̪̖̦̣̤̜̗̱͖̬̩̙̦͇̳̭̞͖͕͖̣̭͙̗͖̤̥̠͈̹͖͔̺̯̥̰͈̤͕̞̌̋͊̈̈́͂̀̂̓̆̈̔̃̔̀̇̉̎͊̆̿̈́̈́͋̎̕̕̚͜͠͠ͅͅd̶̢̨̨͎̹̻̣͍̟̮̮̘̻̦̳͕̙̳͉̬̝̀̍̇̈̔̀̓̀̚͜ą̴̨̨̡̛̘͙̠̖̱̤̭̼̹̘͚̣̝̦̞̰̜̮̜͉̱̖̼̮̼̹̈́̈́̒̈̋̿̇̇͆̀̑̔̂̋̐̄̒͒̊̓̏̄́̓̋͑̽̽͗͂̒̚͘̕͜͝͝r̶̨̢̡̼͉͇͔͎̻̠̮̝̬̞̟̝͎̮̙͙̈́̍̆̈́͜ͅͅļ̶̨̢̧̼͈̖̬̪͚͕̼̹̳̭͔̝̪̜̳͕͓͙͍̉̌̿͌͘̚͠͠ͅͅḭ̵̧̡͎̖͉̳̤̼̦̩͙͔̱͔͕̦̺̱̗̫̱̫̙͈̯̻͙͕̪͓͖͓̟͖̝̝̩̺͔̜͎̺̥̱̦̇̀̒̂̀̈̾̍̀̊̃̀̓̉̐̀̀͗̉̐̕͝͝ͅͅn̵̨̡̨̦͉̬̗͇̹̬̝͎̻̠͍̪̙͉̖͇̻͉̫̎̋̀̓̂͆̈̒͒̋̌̓̅̊̿͆͋͒̒͛̓̒̓̀͑̉͊̊͊̍̐̕̕ģ̶͎̺͓̓̆̾̈́͌̊̉̑̊̽́͂̂̎̓͋̂͐̿͑͂̇͗̓̅͘̕͝͠͝s̴̛̬̜̼̺̱̟͓͓̭͎̹͈͕̪̠̯̩͈͔̠̖̲͉͛͌́̓̅̐̀̌̃͆̾͌̑̓̃̀̓͆̓̇̄̽̔̔́͛͐̃̕̚͘͠͝͝.̸̢̗͉͉̫͕̺͌͒̓̇͑̆̏͗́̈́͒̀̓̋̀̈́͐̄̾̿̌̃̇̐̿̓͜͝͝͝"
E̷v̷e̴r̷y̵ ̶g̶u̶e̸s̸t̵ ̵b̴r̶o̴u̴g̵h̶t̵ ̶t̷h̷e̴i̶r̴ ̵h̷a̵n̶d̷s̶ ̶u̶p̷ ̸t̵o̴ ̶t̷h̴e̷i̸r̷ ̴f̴a̶c̵e̴ ̷i̷n̴ ̷a̷ ̸p̶r̵a̶y̴e̵r̸,̷ ̵b̶e̶g̸i̶n̵n̵i̶n̸g̷ ̸t̵o̵ ̵r̵e̸c̷i̷t̶e̷ ̶s̵o̶m̶e̶ ̷i̵n̶t̶e̷l̵l̷i̷g̴i̴b̵l̴e̵ ̸s̶c̵r̵i̴p̶t̸u̶r̵e̸ ̵f̶r̶o̴m̵ ̸s̵o̸m̴e̷ ̷l̷a̵n̴g̴u̸a̷g̸e̶ ̸h̷i̷s̶ ̷p̸o̵s̷s̶e̴s̵s̵i̴o̴n̷ ̴b̷l̶o̸c̶k̵e̶d̷ ̴o̷u̷t̵,̶ ̶y̶e̴t̸ ̴h̴e̶ ̶i̵n̵s̸t̷i̸n̸c̷t̶i̷v̴e̴l̸y̸ ̷f̴e̷l̷t̴ ̵w̸h̵a̸t̷ ̴t̴h̶e̶y̴ ̸w̵e̴r̷e̸ ̵d̸o̷i̶n̴g̷.̸ ̸T̶h̶e̵i̵r̵ ̶s̶n̶a̴k̷e̶-̷l̷i̶k̵e̶ ̴g̵a̶z̵e̷s̵ ̶e̴x̶e̷r̸t̷e̸d̵ ̷a̸ ̷h̵e̴a̷v̵y̸ ̶p̶r̶e̶s̶s̴u̵r̶e̶ ̷o̸n̵ ̷t̸h̸e̴ ̸r̶o̶o̶m̵,̵ ̸k̶e̶e̵p̵i̶n̷g̴ ̶e̸v̵e̶r̶y̵o̴n̷e̴ ̸l̵i̷k̵e̴ ̵d̷e̵e̶r̷ ̴i̸n̵ ̶t̴h̶e̵ ̸h̴e̶a̸d̶l̸i̴g̶h̴t̶s̶.̶ ̶ ̴ ̶
Hesitating for a second, Catheris swallowed, shutting his eyes. He anxiously scrambled for the thread stuck in his chest before yanking on that damned envelope.
Suddenly, a wave of force pushed him back. Opening his eyes, he almost stumbled backwards as he was met face to face with it. Floating in the middle of the room was a cartoony-looking bomb, ticking — winding up. Instinctively, he shielded his eyes, unsure of what that would help with.
Bang!
The bomb instantly filled the room with thick brown smoke.
???
A... smoke bomb?
He couldn't see anything besides the silhouettes near him. Then, he heard the blood-curdling screaming of dozens of cultists; the wailing so hard that the sound didn't even register anymore. Black ink shot from their eardrums, dripping from their mouths down their chins.
"̸͚̹͈͖͖̟̲͌͋͋̈́͠n̴̞͓͂͂͠o̶̘̽͐̊̓́͐̈́̅̚ò̷͇͈͙͉͆͛ơ̵̭͆̄̇͂́͗͘.̵̢̛̰̯͗̇̈̆͌͛̅͊̉̽̄̕.̴̨͓̫͓̜̣̻̋͊̄̈̿̀̋͝͝.̶̛̲̥̇̉̾͌̌̈̅̅̕ ̴̛̗̮̖̗̗͇̦͓̟̅̄N̴̘̰̟̣̩̫͚͎̈͜͝O̵̙͈͔͗́͛̐̊,̸̛̣̥̝̱̣̥̝͈̳̬͉͓̍̃̑̑̐̃͋̀̌̚̚ ̵̛͕͔̘̦̱̠̜̺̙̳͂̇̈́͆́̋͆̔.̴̦̻̲͕̪͎̭̀̄̎̈̏̍̒͂̍́͝"̷̛̘̎̏̚
Spasming, their fingertips turned black from the spell's charge being interrupted; the penalty of failure. Gritty black devoured them until it reached their heart, petrifying the cultists into stone before they eroded into dust — their ashes fading into the smoke. The life force needed for the spell exponentially devoured their existence.
!
Click! A shutter went off, and white blinded his view for a split second.
Before being able to process anything – Catheris clutched his mouth, almost throwing up from how quickly he was snatched off the ground. His legs were hooked over somebody's large arms, and his head was pressed against some awfully hard chest in a princess carry. They sprinted through the halls. Catheris really didn't need motion sickness on top of his second kidnapping and the problems he was already having—
Still dazed, Catheris managed to spit out "Mr. Beo...?"
"Hm...?"
There it was, that stupid foxy smile — reassuring him.
"No, no no..." Catheris' head was spinning, voice faint. He hooked his arms around Mr. Beo's neck for better support.
"Wait, no – you have to go back." He palmed his head, feeling the heavy pulse pound on his consciousness.
"Hah? Don't tell me you'll miss that kid. I'm sure he'll find a way."
"..."
Disoriented, Catheris pawed at the detective's chest, finding the words "Fire..."
The detective stopped dead in his tracks.
"Huh?" He tilted his head, dumbfounded.
"He's burning this place... evacuate the girls."
"..." Mr Beo closed his eyes with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'll make it quick then."
"Mn..."
Catheris almost threw up on the spot as Mr. Beo took a sharp turn backwards, gagging. He was most definitely aware of the urgency, but couldn't he hold him tighter? Uehhhh.
When they came back to the venue, the smoke washed the scene a desaturated gray. The girls were still in a circle like herded sheep, and they looked damn eerie as they all looked straight forward.
"I'll just set you down here..." Mr. Beo went to the corner of the room, dusting the ashes off a seat for him.
"Take a nap, or something." He took off his coat and placed it over Catheris.
The detective sighed as he pulled something out of his shirt's spatial pocket — a glowing, levitating purple cube; it was a taint de-stabilizer, something similar to that smoke bomb from earlier, but not exactly. With a snap of his fingers, he saw it in their eyes how they came back to normal. They were confused, but there in the head nonetheless.
"You're safe. Please don't panic, please shuffle through the main entrance. We've run into some... errors."
He spoke with enough ease and confidence, and raised an arm towards the door. Sheepishly, the girls nodded and understood quickly, grabbing their long dresses and readjusting their hair for the last time as they filed themselves into neat order.
Now... to finally fetch the rookie. Mr. Beo sped walked to the corner of the room, glancing around for the top of some messy hair.
Mr. Beo put his hand on his waist and scratched the back of his head, slowly uttering.
"Huh... where'd he go..."
Oh saintess-
The charred debris was mere centimeters away from Catheris' face. Groaning, he covered his face with the detective's coat despite how hot it was. It smelt like burnt floral perfume, chemicals, smoke, and strangely enough, awfully fishy.
The flames chased them through the corridor to no end — burning the lovely scaled ceiling and all the mermaids, the paintings were scorched, and the statues looked as if their skin were cracking.
Pressing Catheris' head down, Sian was shaking from excitement, his heart heavy. Sian held him tight as he maneuvered through dozens of tricky shortcuts.
Hyperventilating, Catheris felt himself growing weak as he was damn near smothered by that coat. His head was reeling, hearing everything come crashing down. Pieces of the ceiling were falling in on them as the fire continued to consume.
"...mmmph..."
Hearing his beloved's discomfort, Sian pulled him up to his shoulder, having enough sense to hold the back of Catheris' neck gently enough not to choke him. Sian's cheeks were so flushed, pupils blurring in sheer infatuation and eyes swirling at the thought of Catheris in his arms – it was intoxicating. Anxiously, his eyes darted everywhere for a sign of the Widow's Wing.
Sian pulled the coat off Catheris' face. His head was turning purple, his eyes lifeless. The sweat trickled off his face as his lips were slightly parted, wheezing as he slowly heaved.
Noticing the breeze blow on his skin, Sian whipped his head. Yes, just what his beloved needed, some fresh air. It was the balcony facing the garden.
The garden had dozens of pavilions, spiral patterns of various flowers sprawling, and the most dreamy tall grass; it was a maze in its own right. A whirlwind of thousands of dandelion seeds drifted with the wind.
Propping Catheris on the ledge of the balcony, Sian heaved a deep sigh. He leaned down and embraced the other's waist tightly , burying his face in his lap. The orange flames and embers burned harshly against the amber smoke-clouded sky.
Embers sparked against Catheris' cheek, leaving black specks and a lingering burn. Clutching his face, his head was truly growing delirious. His eyes looked red, the dead black staring into nothing in particular. The searing air was waving like crazy, and he was looking at Sian through blurry TV lines.
"𝓌ₒᵤₗ𝒹 ᵧₒᵤ ₘₐₖₑ ₘₑ ₜₕₑ ₕₐₚₚᵢₑₛₜ ₘₐₙ, ₐₙ𝒹 ₐ𝒸𝒸ₑₚₜ ₘₑ, ₘᵧ ₗᵤₙₑₜₜₑ?"
What was he saying???
"Huh..." Catheris dazedly clutched his head.
Sian took Catheris' hands in his, clutching them tight.
"Would you... finally accept me...?"
A possessive manic look suddenly swept over Sian's eyes, and strange red began blooming in its wake.
Catheris began scratching the top of the other's head gently, as if saying good job.
"You'd have to impress me first."
Sian looked as if he were on the verge of bursting into tears. His expression contorted into a fucked up smile.
"Please? Please." Awful desperation filled his voice.
"I'm sorry, I'm not as simple as that. If you'd like to, at least try." Catheris sighed.
Sian's face froze, and the corners of his mouth started twitching erratically. His smile contorted into something ugly and unhinged.
Oh. oh.
"Even all that effort to get you... I even took your Maisie away... and you still won't look at me."
Jolting, Catheris's head finally snapped. Cautiously, he pushed himself on the balcony ledge. Looking down, he was face-to-face with Sian. The look in his eyes was so starstruck, absolutely smitten - the blissful look on his face was absolutely breathless, yet at the same time his pupils were wide – insanely manic.
Catheris sighed.
"Wait - wait - wait are you doing?!"
In the second Sian was enamored, Catheris took the opportunity and leapt onto the sea-green tiled roof.
"Wait — no."
"Don't tell me you'd rather–" The shock was caught on his throat.
"Don't tell me–"
Catheris didn't look back as he walked on the ledge of the burning roof, the embers sparking small holes into the edges of his skirt.
Nimbly, he scaled down the sides, his hands scratching on the rough material. Sian's voice was faint in the distance at this point. He leapt to the lower roofs as he fought off his exhaustion, panting for dear life. Glancing backwards, he could see the silhouette of the other, catching up to him.
This was no good either – he was stuck at a dead end too. This was the lowest the roof went. He really did not think this through; he couldn't.
Sucking in his breath, he eyed his surroundings, as the seconds ticked — he was avoiding it, but stared at the ground beneath him, growing queasy at the height of the fall, about two stories.
Behind him was a large patch of forget-me-nots to cushion his fall, gently blowing in the wind.
Covering his mouth — it was stupid, he knew, but it was a better fate than burning or being with this guy — he swallowed. Glancing back and seeing the other scale down the wall, he... didn't have another choice...
Covering his head, he jumped.
Instantly, as he hit the ground on his back there was a loud crack. Everything was buzzing. The small blue flowers and petals fell all over his body. Blood sputtered up, covering his face and neck in blood as it came back down. A sharp stabbing pain ripped through his body, but he was unable to even scream anymore. Trembling, his bones were practically screaming as he felt the tenderness of his skin. He was paralyzed by it all.
'It hurts, it hurts, it hurts-'
His neck felt like it was broken, and everything was tingling, head whirling as he felt his consciousness grow lighter. Then, in an instant, harsh pain surged through his chest, clutching at his heart — trying to rip it out. Ink spiked through his chest, piercing through his heart as his veins were exhausted of all the ink they could muster up, leaving a nasty sting so electrifying he was practically being tased by his own body.
'̸I̵t̷ ̷h̶u̴r̸t̵s̷,̸ ̴i̴t̴ ̶h̷u̷r̴t̴s̵,̷ ̸i̴t̷ ̶h̷u̷r̵t̶s̴,̸ ̸I̴t̷ ̵h̸u̴r̵t̴s̶,̶ ̸i̶t̷ ̷h̷u̸r̷t̶s̸,̶ ̷i̵t̵ ̴h̴u̸r̶t̴s̴—̵'̴ ̵
Desperately, ink flooded all of his veins, saturating them into such a deep black you could see it through his skin. Excruciating pain swept every tissue of his nerves as his ink rapidly repaired his body; his ink felt like scalding oil as it went into overwork mode. He felt like a worn doll, stabbed over and over again with a threaded needle, being stitched up over and over again. Hot ink began pouring from his eyes, coating his sclera in a near-opaque black as it flooded down his cheeks, the pain searing dry.
'̵̝̈͆͂̂̈̑̕͝I̸̛̙̔̄̍̅͊̽̈́̚͝T̶̡̨̛͓͚̲̖̮͈̺̠̝̘̦̘́̈́ ̸̧̣̤̜͙͕͉̮̠̺̗͆̇̐̔̊̏͛͆̔́̌̈́H̶͎̥͇̻̬̝̜̼̓͐͒̿̀̒́̀͒̉̇̿̕͘U̵̖͍̤͚͚͑̕ͅR̶̨͈̰͐͋̃̈́T̸̨̧̙̞̩̫͙̹̐̏͂́̏̉͘S̸̛̙̏̎̒̿̿͒̊͛̓͒̚̚͝,̷̺̒ ̸̞̅̅́͘I̸̛͕̙͙͓͎̦̰͛̐T̴̡͈̱̹̜̻̤̞͓͈̤̳̔̐̍ ̵̱͙͖͔̳̘͖̼̩̲̺̞̮̋̋̈́̂͊͑̈́̕͘͝H̵͚̠̜̠̊̽̋̈̇̌͛̀͘Ǘ̶̡̡̻̫̞̙͔̲̫͚̰̏̒͗̊̏̈́̓̃́R̷̢̧̞̰̭͈̗̯̓̍̑̎̓͆̽̈̆̇͋̚ͅT̸̘̺̺̩̫̠̰̟͇͈͕̔̀͘S̷͖̙̦̎̓̔̚,̴͇̦͉̮̰͉̘͎̱͉͚͓̺͒̐̍̅̒͗̈́̄̅̀̚͝͝͝ ̷̧̩̘͖͖̙̰̞̻̲́Ḯ̵̢͈̻͇͙͓͈̩̱̞̲̭̮̱̅̀̔̍̄̊̔͜͝Ţ̵̨̗͇̟̼͙̘̣͝ ̴̙̖͙͉͊̄̎̾͊͌͌̎̈́̓̌̂̕H̴̛̼̟̙͎͛͒̏̉͛̈̓̏́̑̃͑͠U̶̡̘̬̯̭͇̱̤͓͕͎̱̒̇̚͜͠ͅR̸̫͉͚͉͓̥̥͛̅T̶̰̼͎̮̻̟̀͐̾͊͋̉͛͌S̷̞͑̌͊̓̄̓̀͝,̵̗̇̏͋̔͆̐̌͆̔͘ ̵̧͓̹̰̥͇͎̱̅͛̒̇̓̂I̸̢̘̤͈̭̠͂͆̍̅́̈́̈́̃͝͝͝͝ͅŢ̶̧͉͙̹̯͓̋͒̍͌̋́̄̾͋̆̚͘ͅ ̸̧̨̠̬̺̖͚͔̭̮͎̜̟͍͌̀̎̾͒̽̓̿̄͐͘Ḩ̵̗̹̠̮̭̪͇̔̎͒̿̀̏̌͑͊̿́̿̕U̷̢̦̰̹̞̰̜̮̟͇̘̮͓̿̕͜R̶̢̧̮̤̙͔͓͔̫̬̺̂̉̈̅͐͑̕T̶̡̻͈̯̼̤̘̤͔͚̥͚͙̾̋͗̃̓̾͑̃̒͗̿̎̑̎̊S̶̙̔̈́͒̂̉́͆,̶̣͇̗͊̅̓͌̀̑̅̐̕͝͠ ̸̞͉͓̇̂̽̿̆̆̓̊̊̃͗̊͊̐͝Ḯ̵̧̛̗͓̯̺̘̳͌͑͐̎̉̄̀͘͜T̶̨̥̦̯̳̭͈͍̺͚̦̩͂̚ ̸̨̛̺̜̜̜͇͕̙̜̼̯̬̞̏͜H̸͚̣̱̯̃͗̽̆̓͝͝Ǔ̴͕̪̭̝͌͗͜͜͝R̴̨͔̂̄͛͐̐̒̊̈́̿̕͘͝͝T̴̢̢̲̭͎̬̪̫͖̫̖̼͈͍̕Ş̴̡̝̰̪͉̗̳̱̙̉̊͗̒̾̀͗͒̓̌̀͊́͝
Catheris felt like he was going insane – his senses amped up to a thousand, and he was already sensitive from the fall's pain. He could hear the blood pounding on his ears, how the icky, uncomfortable chill on his skin made him cringe, how much his teeth hurt, how uncomfortable this position was, hell, he could feel the sharp edges of each and every fractured piece of bone poking at his flesh. Even the small particle of dirt on his cheek was unnerving, and he wanted to rip out his scalp from the way he felt every hair follicle going through his skin.
"...Yeah, I found him. Over."
The detective slowly strided over and knelt, putting a hand over Catheris's forehead. He began channeling his ink into him as he used the other hand to expel the used ink into nothingness. Monitoring his breathing pattern, Mr. Beo watched as it returned to normal and noticed how his body was much more relaxed.
"Upsy daisy now..." The detective pulled him up from under his shoulder and slung him into his arms, patting his back.
"You did enough today. Sleep."
Catheris' lashes fluttered, blinking slowly before sluggishly nodding and passing out on the detective's shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm bringing him over right now. Over." He whispered into the walkie-talkie.
[Why are you whispering?] Ari's voice at the end of the line asked. [Get out soon, the firemen are already working on it.]
"Shhh..." Mr Beo looked up, staring dead into bloodshot, wide-eyed, crazed purple eyes.
Though mysteriously, in Catheris' chest appeared a small metal trinket, a mermaid in the shape of an 8 devouring her tail — a mobius strip.