Episode: 7.4

--- Ozzy ---

He shot awake his hands rushing for his neck as he gasped for breath.

As his hands brushed the collar around his throat, he couldn’t help but shiver.

(Damn it…)

The nightmares hadn’t left him alone since he’d left Amityville. His mind always twisting (that day) into some barely comprehensible dream, that always left him wondering what really happened between showing up and having his teeth kicked in. The only two events he was sure took place, (well those and…)

He jerked his hand away from his collar, refusing to let his mind go (there.)

Hoping to distract himself, he let his eyes wander around the room Trish had set him up with earlier that evening. It wasn’t a too small room, about twice his arm span one way and thrice it the other, which was more than enough space when the only furniture was the twin bed he was lying on, and a small dresser next to the only window in the room.

As he looked around his gaze fell on the beaten old laptop Trish had left in the room, telling him he was free to use it for whatever so long as he was okay using the slower public network.

Figuring he had nothing to lose on the matter, he went ahead and grabbed the laptop before flipping it open and turning it on.

Once the old thing was booted, he caught sight of the time and winced.

(Three A.M.… Damn it, how long’s it been since I’ve gotten a full night’s sleep?)

(Since you dug your way out of your-)

Shaking his head, he quickly clicked the internet icon while pointedly trying to ignore the dark memories trying to creep out of his sleep deprived mind.

With the browser open, he spent a minute staring at the blank page trying to think of something that could distract him until a time he could leave his room without bothering Trish. And after another moment he finally typed ‘Deadmen’ into the search engine, hoping he’d find something helpful to his current situation.

He couldn’t help but grimace when the first few results were news reports about the most recent Deadman attacks, a couple of which were from his hometown. (Though luckily, I wasn’t involved in any of those attacks…)

Looking a little further down the page he found a link to wiki on Deadmen. Half the information was probably unreliable, but at the very least it would give him a starting point that didn’t involve cannibalistic murderers.

(I got enough of that from the ragged giant…)

His hand drifted to his collar as he idly scratched at his throat.

Shaking his head, he opened the wiki link, hoping he could distract himself from the monsters in his mind. Only to flinch as the wiki’s definitive image of a Deadman loaded, showing a man with glowing ghastly green eyes, missing the flesh from half of his face.

(Right… real life zombies…) He’d been trying to ignore that little detail about himself.

Turning his attention to the main article he started to read all the while trying to ignore his own status as ‘living impaired’.

(“Deadmen are a Deviant offshoot of humanity categorized by the partial resurrection of a human due to an overexposure to the substance Ectoplasm upon death or severe injury of the Deadman.”)

He opened the link Ectoplasm in a new tab, because while he had an idea of what it meant he’d prefer a more detailed report if it was at least partially responsible for his current state.

(“Ectoplasm (Deadmen) is a mildly radioactive substance named after the fictional substance of the same name due their mutual connection to paranormal phenomenon involving the undead.”)

(Wait…)

He paused and reread that first line.

(Radioactive?!)

Suddenly the faint green glow of his blood took on a much more ominous meaning.

He skipped straight to the part of the page clearly labeled as ‘Radioactive Attribute’.

(Okay, let’s see, let’s see… “While mildly radioactive, Ectoplasm is not passively harmful to humans or the environment except in large doses, or when an ‘active’ batch of Ectoplasm directly exposed to the blood stream. In contrast small samples of ‘dormant’ Ectoplasm have actually been observed in the average human blood stream.”)

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He let out a breath of relief.

(Okay… so I’m not a walking nuclear spill. That’s good to know…)

Running a hand down his face, he just barely caught something a little further down the page before reading it to himself.

(“It is currently theorized that the phenomenon responsible for turning a human into a Deadman is triggered by a set amount of this dormant Ectoplasm rapidly becoming active due to currently unknown external influences.”)

“Huh…” He hadn’t known that, his eyes trailed to the next section depicting the history and origin of the mysterious substance responsible for his recent resurrection.

(“Ectoplasm was discovered in the early 2000’s as one of several extra-dimensional substances that began to passively bleed into our reality through the Rifts, primarily the dimension more casually referred to as the Deadlands.”)

He re-read that paragraph, sincerely hoping he misread it.

(Nope, nope, I read the nightmare fuel correctly…)

(Well, at the very least I hadn’t planned on going back to sleep tonight.)

Closing out the (horrifying) tab he went back to the page on Deadmen and tried to find something less nightmarish, before settling on the section listing the most notable characteristics of the common Deadman.

(“While certain types of Deadmen have characteristics differentiating them from the norm, such a Skeletal’s extreme muscular degradation, there a handful of traits that all Deadmen possess. Most notably of these characteristics is the glowing green tinge coloring the blood of all Deadmen, to the point of overwhelming a Deadman’s natural eye color and leaving them with a passive green tint that glows based on the Deadman’s Ectoplasmic activity.”)

He grimaced a bit at that, he’d been hoping his eyes only glowed green when he used his powers. Finding out that they were permanently a different color, that he didn’t know the color of the eyes on his face, that (I no longer have mom’s eyes…)

Something in his chest twisted, and he was forced to swallow something down as he moved to a different section called sub-deviancies.

(“Deadmen are known for having a wide range of abilities, some of these abilities however have a unique influence on a Deadman’s biology, causing them to develop into one of several sub-variants upon a spectrum varying between energy-based and physically-based abilities..”)

(“On the furthest end of this energy spectrum are Spectrals, whom are most prominently known for making use of Ectoplasm’s unstable nature to phase shift themselves through solid matter, camouflage themselves, or even negate the influence of gravity in some cases.”)

He idly flexed the hand he managed to phase his bones through, feeling he would’ve been better off with either of those other abilities. (After all, who doesn’t want to fly?)

With a bitter chuckle he continued reading.

(“On the opposite end of the spectrum are Corpses, Deadmen who have had their ectoplasm infused into their body thus amplifying their physical abilities by a wide margin compared to the normal human. As a side-effect of this infusion most Corpses suffer from a number of physical disabilities such as prolonged organ failure, should their active ectoplasmic levels fall below a minimum threshold.”)

The few aches and pains throughout his body suddenly became much more prominent as he realized there were much worse things than not being able to fly.

(“While some Deadmen will fall into these spectrum end categories it is far more common for a Deadman to land somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, with most of these variants being referred to as ‘Ghouls’, Deadmen who are known to demonstrate abilities from either end of the spectrum if at a weaker capacity than their spectrum end counterparts.”)

He thought about what he knew he could do, (which actually isn’t much…) and decided that in all likelihood ‘Ghoul’ was where he fell on the spectrum. Since the only abilities he was really sure of were the (shitty) phasing power that separated his bones from his muscles, as well as the enhanced strength and durability he’d used to (dig my way out of-)

His eyes jumped to the next category of Deadman and started reading.

(“Ghouls are not however the only middle variance of Deadman that has been seen, with several outliers such as the infamous Skeletals and Death Echoes. Two forms of Deadman created when there is enough ectoplasm present upon death to trigger the resurrection process, but not enough to bring it to completion.”)

He had an idea of what Skeletals were, and while part of him was curious as to what (the hell) a ‘Death Echo’ was, the name left him more than a little cautious about searching it. So, instead he let his attention drift to a section he’d been avoiding, even if he knew he had to read it at some point.

(“Ectoplasmic Hunger…”)

He swallowed, down a number of very dark feelings, half tempted to once more distract himself with another search -(Maybe on Ghouls?)- but knowing full well that if he back out now, he’d back out the next time he tried to read it. And unfortunately, it was something he had to read before it came back to bite him, (or someone else…)

Gathering his courage, he forced himself to read the one section entirely responsible for his running away from home.

(“Like all living creatures,”) he gave a bitter laugh at that, (“Deadmen, require energy to function. Unlike other creatures however, Deadmen do not require this energy to function themselves, but rather to maintain the ectoplasmic activity keeping them alive.”)

(“Due to this the standard methods of digestion do little to keep most Deadmen alive, instead requiring them to consume already active ectoplasm from a still living source, such as another Deadmen. It should be warned however-”)

His mouth went dry as (the taste of dirt and rot filled his mouth…)

(“-that while the majority of a Deadman’s diet is based upon the cannibalistic consumption of other Deadmen-”)

He swallowed (a hunger so painful it consumed him in his entirety…)

(“-that it is fully possible for a Deadman to live off the ectoplasm that is brought to activity upon the-”)

He closed his eyes to (the sweet scent just ahead...)

(“-emotionally charged death of a normal human when-”)

He covered his ears to (the screams…)

(-eaten alive.)

And his head spun as (a warm coppery taste filled his mouth. The flavor so sweet that not even the dirt still staining his mouth could do anything to hinder it’s delicious -it’s far too delicious- taste even as the (food) beneath him quit struggling…)