Prime Earth - Outside Rachel's apartment building. (formerly also Julia's)
“Grace, how are you and Peter holding up?“ Sally asked, surprised to see the older woman waiting at the door.
Despite the standard volume of her voice, Grace jumped as if Sally had yelled. Seeing the redness of her eyes, Sally drew close to hug her mother-in-law.
“I’m sorry you must have been miles away,” Sally said, concerned by how frail Grace had become. It hadn’t even been three weeks, yet she felt like skin stretched over bone. Her hand stroked Grace’s back reassuringly, worried about the weight the unbelievable death had put on her. The nightmare at the funeral service had only added to the family's grief.
Grace clutched at Sally for a moment before she spoke, clinging with a desperate grip despite the heat.
“Rach didn’t answer the buzzer. I was giving her a few minutes before I tried again,” Grace said, her words faint, clearly strained with pain.
“If I’d known you had planned to come over, I’d have picked you up,” Sally said, trying to keep the worry from her voice.
“I needed to walk and clear my mind. We’re not that far away. The Detectives were by this morning. I couldn’t stay in the house after they left. Where’s Mal?”
“He's just parking the car. Any news?” Sally asked.
“Nothing. Though there are lab tests still pending. I hadn’t expected them to come by at all. Let alone on a Sunday,” Grace replied absently, the tone trembling.
The buzzing of the intercom and the door’s lock came as one.
“Hey guys, sorry I was,” Rach said. Her voice sounded weighed down instead of bursting with her normal energy. Yet even that absent energy faded out before she could finish whatever she'd planned to say, “ugh, I don’t feel good. Oh.”
The sound of a woman’s scream of pain pierced the air. Echoing out from the intercom and above, before it cut off, blending seamlessly with the wailing of a smoke alarm.
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It had broken him when his aunt told him Julia was a prostitute. She’d tried to be kind, telling him he needed to move on. She wanted him to go out with a nice girl. His Aunt had wanted to introduce them before, but he knew they weren’t the one. Didn’t his Aunt know there wasn’t anyone else for him but Julia? If she was a prostitute, it must have been true for them all. Yes, it was all their fault. Vile teasing bitches, ignoring him and acting like they were too good for him. He’d seen all of them so often at the shop, but he was just the cook. Even when he said Hi, they wouldn’t let Julia give him the time of day. They were brushing him off and taking her from him. Yet the way she always was smiling at him, it was clear that he mattered to her. They shouldn’t have interfered.
His yiayia had told him to take time between using it on those needing judgement. It was their ancestors’ token, and the Kronos’ forgotten son would answer the call. The Minotaur would answer his family’s plea as he had done for eons. Nicholas fumed at his foolish ancestors, who almost lost the token so often, with their lack of belief or care. They’d have lost it except for his yiayia, who brought it with her from Crete.
She’d told him all the old stories whenever he’d been over. He’d seen it clutched tight in her hand that day at the trial, seen the punishment descend. The way they had betrayed him, they all needed to pay. Yiayia wasn’t around to care anymore, and his mother’s only concern was the business. So he’d deal with these traitors by himself. If they hadn’t gotten in the way, he wouldn’t have taken the steps he did. They forced him to punish her.
He’d just been wrong to punish her first. She was so sweet; the others must have lured her astray. He’d heard them talking about the plans for Rach hen's party plans and the requests Rach had for Julia. Asking her to get the special party favours arranged for everyone. He knew what that meant; they had her supplying their wicked ways. He couldn't stand it anymore, asking her to let loose, when they hadn't let her near him. Now the last of them would pay, Sarah would join Rach and his special, traitorous, defiled Julia.
Despite the token still hot from the last judgement, Nicholas wanted it done. He was staring at the third woman in the photo. Token held within his aching hand, yet he ignored the heat and the edge digging into his palm. He focused on the image, ready to invoke the same sentence again. The one his yiayia had used against father’s murderer. That bastard had deserved to scream in pain, just as these whores now would for keeping her away. They ignored him, kept her from him. How dare they! He’d found their full names from the photos of the memorial, HER tribute page. It was clearly fate that her memorial had led him to them so that they could suffer as well.
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“Sarah Noth, may the Titan take you to his maze. May it chain you in hell.”
The last mark on the token flashed, all four gone now, but it had been worth it. They were going to get what they deserved for betraying him and destroying Julia. Why couldn’t any of them see? Fate had meant them for each other? They’d ruined it all.
Light glimmered inside the token. A stabbing light beneath the faded mark from yiayia’s use showing first. A mark that had been slowly returning. The other points which had winked out suddenly glowed as well, and the four spun around the token’s edge. Then he knew for sure the Titan favoured him. With all four of them shining so brightly, he knew. They meant him for such a glorious fate. To hold life and death over another was his family’s right. His right!
“You show how far my blood has fallen in this world. No more. One, even two, is a misjudgement. Three such as these is not justice. Three within three weeks is pure pettiness. You have used my token to set their judgements. So now I judge you, the maze shall not determine your fate.” The power of that growling voice made the bones of his skull pulse with agony.
The token burst, the power in the metal was searing into his eyes. Blinding brightness as he felt himself falling. The wind whistled in his ears, echoing with his screams. No matter how he tried to twist and turn, he fell and felt as if fire flayed at his skin. Then sight returned and sounds chorused around him as he plunged. Somehow, the fire had flayed clothes from him, yet his flesh was now unburnt. Feet led the way in the long fall, ignoring all attempts to turn. The clouds burst open, and he could see an ocean beneath him coming ever closer. Lit as if by the setting sun showing waves of glorious red satin. People were standing on the waves to greet him, calling upwards for his arrival. Was this heaven? Why had there been flames? Was it just removing the last of his sins to ensure his purity?
Still, they were calling.
No!
They were screaming, their cries of pain were to tell him it was already too late. The last moment as his point of arrival became clear—the Spike. Pain tore through him as it ran up through his guts and burst out of his neck. Yet he still lived as agony that seemed already without end twisted within, and so he screamed with them to warn the next.
“She was never yours.”
The absolute truth of the words he knew, leaving no space for doubt. Power of it cleared the Agony for a moment, the truth of every interaction driven deep. Even the truth of his aunt’s baseless gossip, rumour and judgement shared without truth. It all burnt with a searing agony greater than the spike, and the blades clawing at his insides, he screamed louder still. He hoped his sanity would crack apart completely and let him fall into the ocean. Willpower of steel closed like a vice around him, its presence promising him the release of insanity would never be his.
I will get out of here.
He recognised her voice in his mind. Nicholas knew the will holding her together also now held him to the spike. And the Titan let him know, even if her willpower faulted, that there would be no release. Unlike those around him, what the punishment tore from him would continually renew. His screams drown out all those about as he felt the first of what would be so many shards leave him for the filth below. While any of their Souls existed, within the punishment he’d set. Then so would he remain sane within his own, even if it was till time’s end. While her will remained around him, he would also know every ounce of pain any of them experienced three fold.
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“Detective Collins, there is another SHC victim. Male this time,” The constable said, his voice quiet on the phone.
“Where was he found?” Collins asked, his tone professional, as he fought the urge to rub his face. One weird case had turned into three, now four. He still had to get to the one called in by Sally Earnst, the first victim’s sister-in-law. He didn’t know what yet, but something weird was going on, and this family was in it deep.
Only one other confirmed SHC had shown up in Australia with no wick effect involved. That had been in a Parramatta court nearly seventeen years ago. Now he might have four more within eighteen days, not even three bloody weeks. How many more were going to die?
“In his home, sir, you’re going to want to see this soon,” the constable said, his voice insistent.
“I’m at another scene at present. Why the urgency?”
“It’s very different from the other reports. Also, he’s got a tribute wall here; it looks like a stalker’s one, not a memorial. And something else, sir,” the Constable’s voice sounding disturbed. The lack of proper process made Collins wonder exactly what the hell was going on. He was already going to need to speak to the station sergeant about this whole situation.
“Constable, tell me why you’re not following proper procedure,” Collins said, his tone professional but clearly disliking whatever the hell was going on.
“There is a mosaic near the ashes, burnt into the carpet. A man’s likeness is clear in it, matching against family photos in the house. The tiles look as if they burnt through the carpet and melted to the concrete underneath.”
“How is his home decorating tastes relevant?”
“It shows him impaled in a hellscape Detective,” the constable said, his voice cracking with fear as he spoke.
“What!”
“And there are words around it. So ends one who abused the Minotaur’s gift.”
“What’s the victim’s name?” asked Collins, patting his pocket as he checked for his notebook.
“Nicholas Labrinth,” said the Constable.
“Send me the address. I’ll be right over,” said Collins, hanging up the call.
He remembered the other case file. One victim involved in the hearing was Nicholas Labrinth.
Maybe it’s not Julia’s family involved in the weird shit.
What the hell is going on?
He turned to head for the front door, ignoring the witness still in his outfit, going over his statement to the uniform. At least the witness had put some pants on before calling, but the sub collar and shirt were still present. If he had come into this cold, he would have been trying to figure out how a professional Dominatrix related to Julia’s case. Fortunately for his sanity, Sarah Noth's friendship with the first victim was a matter of record. Though with the degrees and a business card reading life coach, he wouldn’t have expected what had turned up today. Considering the weirdness that was already ongoing, he’d need all the sanity he could get.