Recorded Visions - Derek Longacre - Pegasus Library

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Vision 213 - Recorded and transcribed by Jennifer Sullivan, Ph.D.

The vision begins with my point of view circling above one of the fallen cities. I don’t recognize it. I don’t know where I am. They all look very similar from above. Destroyed buildings are overgrown with weeds, and nature is reclaiming the streets.

I am falling then, a controlled fall that I don’t feel. The view circles down on a single building. The roof is flat and used to be white. Now it is overgrown with moss and plants, but some white shows in the center.

On the roof, there are three figures, and they are fighting. Two wear ragged clothing, groundling scavengers of some sort. I do not recognize them; they are somewhat blurry in my vision. One has a long brown coat and a green helmet. The other is wearing ragged blue jeans and has some sort of upper body armor like a vest. I can’t tell more as they all have some sort of a hat and I am looking down from above. Helmet has a shotgun. He’s pumping shots at the third. Armor had a pistol and is moving like they were injured.

The third is strange. It’s a monster. I will try to describe it. Umm, take a human form and add another pair of arms coming out of the back below the normal pair. Each of its six limbs has additional joints that seem to be able to rotate strangely. It’s moving fast, and I can’t tell what it is. The whole thing is dark gray with black mottling.

The monster has a long tail with what looks like feathers on the end. The feathers look like fluffy moth antennae and surround a ball or something on the tip of the tail. Otherwise, the thing has smooth matte skin. It has no head; there is just a huge mouth where the neck should be. Six large fangs in a circle around a bunch of shark teeth. It opens like a, what’s it called, like a big butthole with fangs.

That’s where the vision ends.

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“What? Oh shit. I better go check on them.” I said with some renewed urgency.

“That’s not all of it,” Tukey said harshly. “You go get clean and dry and dressed. We’ll tell you the whole story, and then you can go.”

“But…” I started to interject, but Tukey’s face hardened, and he glared.

“No. Do as you are told for once. There is more to this than you know, and you need all the information before you go haring off on something stupid.” Tukey’s voice was stern. The voice of a grandfather with more wisdom and decades of experience. He rarely used that tone with us. It was the tone that corrected belligerent little children and taught them lessons the hard way too.

I hung my head and did as I was told.

I sat down in dry and clean clothes at the dinner table with Lina and Tukey. “Now, will you tell me what’s going on?”

“Eat while I talk,” Tukey said as Lina pushed a serving of hotdish over to me. This was Mom’s recipe perfectly recreated by my sister. It was warm and salty and full of veggies and potatoes. It settled my stomach and felt like home. I smiled at her as Tukey started.

“So this started three days ago. Just after you left. In fact, you were a subject before they found out you had been seen by some caravanners riding your bike north.” He paused and chewed and considered his next words.

“There have been three killings so far. Each of them was a human and was by themselves before the attack. Something literally ripped them apart, like arm over there, leg over there and the insides spread in between.” Tukey said, pointing to opposite sides of the room.

Lina grimaced, “Do we need to talk about this over dinner?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m headed out just after we’re done eating,” I said. I needed to check on Meera, Ada, and their family.

Tukey glared at us for interrupting, “The city is in an uproar. One of the folks that were killed was a guard on the east side of town. Then there was a woman on the south side, and now Sanjan. One a day for three days. People are afraid.” He paused again and drank some water.

“Lina, you are to stay inside until this is resolved. Until you evolve, you are too weak. I’m sorry.” She looked to argue but swallowed it, and Tukey turned his glare on me. “You are to go check on our friends and come right home. We will let the guards do their jobs and catch whoever is killing people. No stupid heroics, okay?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I also was going to argue. I was evolved and strong now, but Sanjan had been at least an E-Rank also. If he weren’t a D-Rank, it would surprise me. I knew occupation levels greatly affected the variance of ability with a rank, but the exponential variance of the rank trumped that. If I never put another point into strength, I would be twice as strong at D-Rank as I am now. If this person was going around spreading D-rank people’s guts around, I could be next very easily.

I wasn’t going to live in fear, however. I was too stupid or stubborn to be afraid. Tukey knew that. Lina and I were probably the best suited to survive. Both of us had inherited the Regeneration ability. If it didn’t kill me outright, we would likely survive and eventually recover. Lina had the strength and durability of an E grade already. Her unique variant abilities allowed her to be as strong and tough as a rank higher than she was.

Tukey finished his serving and pushed the plate forward. He looked hard at me, “I know you think you could probably survive, but these folks died instantly. Someone scooped out their brains from behind and then destroyed the body after. You wouldn’t survive that. Your father had your regeneration ability. That’s where you get it from.” He paused and looked at the both of us, his grandchildren.

“I’m getting on in years, but I’ve lost my daughter, your mom, already. I don’t intend to bury either of you too. Neither of you gets to die before I do. You got that?” There was a sad ferocity in his tone. We had all grieved my parents’ deaths in our own ways. Tukey had never really gotten over the loss of his child, and we had never really known her, so it was far easier for us. We still felt the loss, though. Vague memories and a deeply seated knowledge that there was a hole in your life that would never be filled again.

Lina got up and over to the stove, where she pulled a second hotdish out. This one she wrapped in a couple of towels and nodded at me. “Take this over with you. I know it won’t solve anything, but maybe it will help a little.”

I stood up, and Tukey turned away. The goiter on his neck was deep scarlet, a sign he was having some feelings about things. I stood and took the wrapped-up hotdish. It was hot to the touch but wouldn’t burn me. Lina opened the door, and I left without saying much more. There was a pall in the air, and my words wouldn’t break that.

I carefully made my way downstairs and down the block. At Meera’s building, I went inside the normal way and up the stairs to the front door. A door I hadn’t seen this side of in years. Carefully balancing the casserole in one hand, I knocked on the door.

A teary-eyed Meera answered the door. She looked at me and then at the dish. “Hi. I guess you heard.” She said quietly.

“I am so sorry, Meera.” I said as she ushered me inside and into the kitchen. Ada was inside the kitchen, and she looked at me with anger and hurt. I could only look at her with my own sad eyes. Sanjan was a great guy. He had always treated me with respect like I was a grown man before I even had hair on my chin. He had been cheerful, funny, and a loving parent to Meera.

I set the hotdish down on the counter and told Ada, “I’m so sorry, Ada. Please accept this as a small way to help reduce the burden of these hard times.” As much strength and respect went into those words as I could convey.

She gruffly said, “Thank you, Izzy. Tell Lina and Tukey thank you from us too. I know you didn’t cook this.” She said with a sad smile. She knew I was not the best cook and the smell from the casserole dish was very appetizing. She unwrapped it, and Meera pulled me away out of the room. I didn’t see her mother or younger siblings. The usually raucous house was almost silent in mourning.

Meera didn’t lead me back to her room but into the living room, where she sat on a couch. I simply sat next to her. I could see the pain, the mind-wrecking trauma on her face as clear as the sun in the sky. I didn’t know what to do except hold her hand. I reached for her hand, and she gripped it. Then she turned and hugged me. I felt her shudder and heard her start to sob.

I wrapped my arms around her, and she cried. I cried too. Sanjan had been a friend. Her pain was far greater than mine. It wasn’t a competition; we were both hurting in our own ways.

We sat like that for a long time. Ada came in silently, but I looked up and saw the tears in her eyes. Shining lines down her cheeks, tracings of tears had already rolled down. Ada was a strong woman, fierce in the protection of her family. She looked at me and nodded.

Meera took one of my hands in hers and said, “I’m sorry I’m a mess.” She struggled to speak.

I shook my head at her, “You have every right to be a mess. Tell me what I can do.”

“Just sit with me. I’m a wreck.” She said. So I did.

We all knew this world was brutal. People died of a great many things these days that folks before the Fall took for granted. Diseases that had been wiped out could and would ravage a community. Mutant beasties, scavengers, Puritans, and all of the other direct threats were something else. We both had lost friends before. I had lost my parents long ago, so that was an old wound. The wound was still there, but I was used to it now. I had learned to move forward.

Loss was not a new feeling. The weight of this loss for Meera was profound. Her daddy had died, and she had found him. He may have died quickly, but his body’s desecration was beyond the pale. She had found him all split apart and splattered across their restaurant storeroom. Her pain included a horrific level of trauma.

Ada spoke up from across the room, “Izzy, can I have a word with you, please?”

I squeezed Meera’s hand and stood to speak with Ada.

In the kitchen, she held out a key to me. “I see how you come back from your hunting trips. I know you have a strong stomach. I don’t wish this on anyone, but I need your help. Will you go and clean up? I cannot go back there. I cannot see my son like that.”

I nodded, understanding what she wanted, and it was a heavy ask. I would do it for her. I would do it for Meera and Sanjan, and Lakshmi. The family would go on. They were survivors.