Chapter 16: Shadows and Suspicions
The following morning was heavy with silence.
Peterson sat at the edge of his bed, nursing a bruised knuckle and a mind full of questions. His dreams had been chaotic—flashes of the medallion, bones shifting in shadows, the echo of the pact he made whispering across the edge of sleep. But when he woke, there was no voice in his head. Just the weight of memory.
Across the hallway, Amanda and Miranda were unusually quiet. The twins hadn't teased him once during breakfast, and that alone felt like a warning sign.
Their mother, Altagrace, bustled around the kitchen, humming a sorrowful tune and preparing a batch of pate for the street corner. She kissed Peterson on the forehead before she left, but even that felt distracted. Everyone was unsettled, like the house itself knew something had changed.
By midmorning, Jean-Daniel and Wilkens showed up at Peterson's bedroom window like clockwork. Jean-Daniel dropped in first, rubbing his neck. Wilkens climbed in after, mumbling about ladder safety.
"Okay," Jean-Daniel said, hands on hips. "We need to talk about last night."
"You mean the part where Gregory and his DED goons tried to gut us?" Peterson asked, flexing his hand.
"Yeah, that part. But also..." Jean-Daniel looked at him seriously. "Your sister saw the whole thing."
Peterson nodded. "Amanda. I saw her near the alley. And Miranda might've been there too. I think they followed us."
Wilkens fidgeted in the corner. "You think they know about the system?"
"No," Peterson said. "But they saw enough to ask questions."
Jean-Daniel whistled. "This is getting tight. Between Isso's deliveries and DED popping up like roaches, we're about to choke."
"I'm not quitting," Peterson said. "Not until we understand this medallion. Not until I'm strong enough."
Wilkens cautiously raised a hand. "Speaking of understanding… I ran some searches at the library yesterday."
Peterson and Jean-Daniel turned.
"On what?"
"Loa," Wilkens said. "Voodoo spirits. Specifically the ones that use bones, transformation, and make contracts with humans."
Peterson sat up. "And?"
"There's one… called Baron Cimetière. A powerful gatekeeper of the dead. Loves cigars, bones, riddles. He's known to make pacts with mortals—but only if they're standing close to death."
Jean-Daniel's eyes narrowed. "That tracks with the medallion. The pact. The way Peterson transformed."
"Problem is," Wilkens added, "once you make a deal with Baron Cimetière, he always comes to collect."
Peterson frowned. "You mean—"
"—he expects payment. Eventually."
A chill crept through the room.
Jean-Daniel tried to brush it off with a joke. "Well, at least he didn't ask for kidneys."
Wilkens didn't laugh.
Later that afternoon, they met in the abandoned church again. Peterson wanted to train, but Jean-Daniel had insisted on talking strategy first.
"We got one slot open," he said. "You're still Level One. If we want more power, more party members, we gotta get you leveled up. That means missions. Practice. Maybe even real fights."
Wilkens flinched. "Real fights?"
"DED isn't gonna wait for us to get strong. Gregory already hates us. And Isso? He doesn't tolerate mistakes."
Peterson rubbed his forehead. "Let's start small. I'll train my crafting skill. We make some armor. Maybe figure out how to craft charms or amulets next."
They spent the rest of the evening testing builds.
Wilkens brought scrap wires and pieces of copper. Peterson visualized bracers made from old phone parts and rusted spoons. The result? A pair of clunky but functional arm guards.
Jean-Daniel tested them. "Ugly. But solid."
Wilkens added, "We can optimize later. I'm drawing up a blueprint system we can use."
Meanwhile, Peterson tried to summon again—this time using a different command.
"Summon: Bone Sentry."
A larger skeleton appeared, hunched and armored in fragments of ceramic and wire. It had no weapon, but it stood like a guard.
"Nice," Jean-Daniel said. "Looks like a toilet tank come to life."
They laughed. Even Wilkens chuckled.
But deep down, all three of them knew: they were laughing in the dark.
The city was watching.
DED was hunting.
And Peterson's sisters were getting too close.
[To be continued in Chapter 17]