Episode: 7.6

--- Ozzy ---

He couldn’t help but shift in place as he stepped out of the clinic.

He wasn’t sure what it was exactly but something about the town had been bugging him since he’d gotten out of Trish’s car, almost like there was something dangerous in the air that he just couldn’t see.

(Probably just the fog…)

He shook his head, while there wasn’t enough to really hinder his vision there was still enough fog in the air that he could just feel the humidity clinging to his skin.

(Yeah, just the humidity…)

(It was humid that night too…)

He swallowed something bitter before running a hand down his face, letting out a long breath, and making his way towards the general store Trish had pointed him at.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander a bit, taking note of the various square brickwork buildings that had been standing for nearly sixty years, and all the little mom and pop shops that lined the streets of two or three lane town.

(Place definitely has a different vibe than Amityville, then again how many towns spend more time in the dark than the daylight…) No one knew if that was the work of some Deviant with a vendetta with the sun or just the natural stormy weather for the city. (My money is still on an Arcane Necromancer, would explain a few things about the town…)

He shook his head, forcing himself from thoughts about a home he couldn’t go back to and started looking around once more, trying to recall what he could about the town he was staying in for the foreseeable future.

Of his hometown’s various neighbors, Crimson Falls was probably the one he’d heard the least about, being nowhere near as infamous as New Haven where a cult ran a third of the city and organized crime the other two, or Le Cimetiere where there were three different Deviant gangs turning the city into a borderline hellhole.

(At least in Amityville we only had to deal with the occasional zombie…) He thought with a bitter chuckle. (Though I guess that would be enough to dissuade most crime…)

Still of the few cities and towns around Amityville, Crimson Falls was the one that had a reputation for its surprisingly low number of Deviant incidents compared to the surrounding cities. Even going by the population difference between a small town and a city, Crimson Falls had maybe a fifth as many incidents per capita as the rest. Making it possibly the most peaceful place in a couple of hundred miles if his internet search of the city was true.

(And if Trish really does let me stay, maybe it’s even peaceful enough to get my head on straight…)

Last night was an unpleasant wake up call, one that he was still at least partially in denial about, but (at least it’s a denial I’m aware of…)

That made shake his head with a wry grin and a dry laugh.

(Now then where’s that store at.)

Remembering what he was supposed to be doing, he took a look around while trying to figure out if he’d passed the store Trish had sent him too or if he was close enough to spot it at the very least.

Like the rest of the town the area around him was largely brick buildings, a few with their parking lots marked by chain link fences. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to be the store he was looking for, or match the small portion of the town he was familiar with meaning… (I’m lost… Just great…)

Running a hand down his face, he sighed before shaking his head.

(I’ll just head back to the clinic and start over… If I’m lucky I might even find the store on my way back…)

Actually, keeping his attention on the area around him this time, he finally noticed something he’d completely glossed over during his earlier musings.

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

(This town is… really empty…)

He knew a small town wouldn’t have as many people as Amityville, but at the very least he’d been expecting some traffic, be it pedestrian or otherwise. (Hell, I can’t even hear anything…)

“Gah!” He groaned to himself, more to fill the silence than anything else. “First the fog, now these streets… I’m starting to feel like I’m in a horror movie!”

Scrubbing at his face in frustration, he looked around deciding to find anyone, to dispel the unnerving presence the ghost town was starting to give him.

Turning away from the way back to the clinic, he cut through a nearby alley between two buildings and made his way to the next street over where he spotted a brunette-haired woman in red clothes.

(See, this town ‘s not completely empty.) He told himself, (Everyone’s probably at work already or something.)

Deciding to avoid going all the way back to the clinic he started making his way towards the woman before trying to get her attention. “Um, excuse me?”

The woman paused for a moment before turning towards him with a confused expression. “Yes?”

“Sorry for bothering you,” he apologized once he was closer, “but I’m new to town and was wondering if you could point me towards the general store? I know it’s around here somewhere but…” He gave a helpless shrug.

“Oh, Greg’s is just around this corner, dear.” The woman in red told him, gesturing for him to follow.

“Thanks for the help.” He nodded as matched her pace, not trusting himself to not get lost.

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” The kind woman waved him off, “I was heading this way to pass out fliers anyway.”

“Fliers?” He asked, something in the back of his head warning him.

The woman lit up at the question. “Oh, you said you were new to Crimson Falls, yes?”

“Uh… yeah?” He nodded that oddly familiar instinct growing louder.

“Then I don’t suppose you’ve heard of the Crimson Church yet?” The woman asked in a kindly manner.

He barely suppressed a full body twitch at the question, finally placing the instinct.

(Ah, fuck!)

“No, I, uh, I don’t suppose I have.” He admitted, plastering on a fake smile as he tried to figure out a way to escape the crazy woman, that wasn’t flat out running away.

“In that case here.” The woman held a flyer out to him, one that even glancing at made his headache in an uncomfortable way.

(Shit, I’m in no state to be dealing with this kind of crazy…)

Taking the flyer, the woman was holding out to him, he couldn’t quite hold back a grimace of pain as he caught sight of a crimson cross over a six-point star both bound in a circle that just screamed (‘Arcane-fuckery.’)

(Damn, there really is one in every town isn’t there…)

It was an uncomfortable truth but ever since Deviants had gone public, new religions and cults had been popping up left and right all over the world. And while most people were smart enough to accept that Deviants didn’t really change the way the world worked, there was no shortage of (cults) worshiping some Arcane power, or overly charismatic psychic out there, typically to the detriment of everyone near the cult in question.

“That’s uh, very… interesting design.” He hedged, tearing his eyes away from the (sadistic) circle and towards the relatively kind cultist in front of him, all while sincerely hoping the flyer wasn’t responsible for his sudden headache.

“I know, there’s all sorts of amazing designs and writing in the church.” The cultist agreed enthusiastically, a mildly crazed look becoming apparent in her eyes.

“Maybe, I’ll uh, give it a look sometime.” He told her while having zero intention of going anywhere near the church in question.

After all, as with most inhabitants of Amityville, where the most common Deviancy involved cannibalism, he was just street smart enough to know to stay the hell away from anything that looked even remotely like a cult.

(Especially the ones with headache inducing Arcane-fuckery.)

Those were the ones that usually got themselves killed by purposely summoning an eldritch demon while thinking it wouldn’t kill them.

(I wonder if Crimson Falls has an anti-cult hotline like Amityville?)

“We have meetings every Friday and Saturday evening.” The cultist encouraged happily, completely unaware of his current thoughts.

Plastering on another fake smile he nodded before giving her a sad shake of his head. “I’m not going to lie, I might not be able to make the next couple of meetings,” (or any of them if I can help it.)

“That’s fine sweetie, just so long as you give us a chance.” The woman assured him kindly before pointing to a nearby store. “Oh, and there’s Greg’s general store right over there.”

(At least she’s not being pushy about it like the dead heads back home.)

“Thanks for the help, ma’am.” He told her, since (there’s never a reason to be rude to someone.)

“Oh, it was no trouble dear, have a nice day!” the (surprisingly nice) cultist waved before continuing on her way.

“You too ma’am!” He called back, since

He held off until the woman in red was out of sight before giving the flyer another once over, and once more felt a spike of pain through his skull.

(Maybe I should consider attending a meeting? She was nice enough, so the church can’t be that bad. After all, what can one meeting hurt?)

He considered that idea for a moment…

(Yeah, fuck that shit.)

…before crumpling the mind-rapey flyer into a ball and tossing it into a nearby garbage bin, like the last three times a cult had tried to poach him with one of their magic brain washing flyers.

(Sorry, but no matter how nice you act; I am not falling for that eldritch brainwashing bullshit.)