When do we truly die? The thought crossed my mind as I stared at the growing corn fields. If you witness death, if you experience it through another's memories, does it count? My arms were bound to my stand, arms spread out as I twitched my fingers. All of it felt so real, so entirely legitimate I forgot the name I was born with. My fingers curled into fists as I struggled upon the metal cross. I tugged and pulled at the twine as the sun reached its zenith.
I have no mouth, yet I must scream! It was sewn shut while I got to experience the lives of the guardians before me. Purple and teal button eyes observed the sun for a moment. Do we die when our name is uttered for the last time? That memory passing on so that even the world we live in forgets we ever existed? I lurched forward, my bindings loosening as I shook with determination. Is it that death only comes for those with bones to bleach in the rays of the sun? When there are no more people to grieve our loss? I didn't want to just loosen the bindings, I wanted them broken. A part of me wouldn't truly feel free until I tore and broke what held me.
Fuck! The twine started to tear, strands snapping as I fell forward, my legs still firmly held in place. The momentum wasn't enough to break my legs free. My fingers shifted into blades as I sawed through the last of my bindings. I got to learn a lot of neat tricks while I was grounded. An entire year of just watching those guardians before me lived their last moments as 'human.' Pretty sure one of them was a dog, good boy that he was.
The true tragedy of all this? So many of them were edgelords! The last bit of twine holding me in place finally broke, my weight making my straw body fall to the ground in a heap. It had been a couple of months in this one, the thing rotten and just barely holding on. Focus. I need to focus. Corn syrup pulsed, as I forced my limbs to help me stand. Death comes, when there are no more vessels left to hold my being.
My vision swam, as I took my first steps in months. The shed was no longer visible with all the corn stalks in front of me. Burn the excess bodies, and join the other failed guardians. My steps were slow and lumbering. Still, I managed an almost plodding gait. Each step was almost like having a spike driven into my heel. Sure, I could turn off the pain, but I needed it to focus. Syrup oozed out from my joints with mildew and grubs.
Crows cawed in the distance, helping to guide me towards the shed. I wasn't going to die here, not without doing anything. Not when I could get out there and check on everyone. I needed to know what happened while I was gone. Each step was a small victory, defiance against fate itself. Doubt wouldn't stop me, the memories of depression and sadness weren't going to claim me. Not as long as I still felt there was something to do. Kill yourself. Fuck off. I hit the side of my head, making me stumble.
I woke up on my knees, still surrounded by corn. Igor had been told not to help me, the one who started all of this. Was it still Igor? His name changed whenever the sun blinked. Sometimes yellow, sometimes red, even white at one point. Shaking my head, I forced myself to stand and resume walking. A few crows flew overhead, and their cawing resumed. Darn shame I couldn't smile.
The shed emerged as I breached through the corn stalks. Twenty of the crow crew looking down at me from their perch. They went silent, as I looked at them. It was left half-opened making this a lot easier. I stumbled towards it, managing to grab onto the frame so I didn't fall. Despite the rust, it was still sturdy. Igor built the shed out of stuff he got from the junkyard, and despite its looks, it kept the rain out. The tools for harvest were polished to perfection, each of them hanging from the wall with its own space.
Right in the center was exactly what I was looking for. A pile of straw, husk, and various other corn products. There were clothes already laying on the corner. I slowly made it to the table, grabbing the overalls and plaid shirt. I knew there was another body for me somewhere, but every failure meant being hitched to that stand. It meant having to start all over, I had to make a new body for myself to finish this. There needed to be proof of my determination.
Sacks were torn and knitted. Lifetimes of knowledge guided my fingers as they turned into so many fibers. Stitch by stitch, legs and arms were made. I kept myself propped against the table, refusing to fall even as the light came and faded. Every second of consciousness focused on making me a new body. The head was next, one with a mouth this time. I knew that I could use a pumpkin or other gourds, but I wasn't ready for the fire. There were arcane rules I had to follow, trials to overcome before I could tap into everything I was shown. Trying to force it would only hurt and make this take longer than it should.
Every part of the new body was stuffed. I grabbed the tin jug of corn syrup with the syringe and hooked it up. Letting it slowly infuse my new body. While that was going on, I took some corn silk and made some hair. If someone saw me on the streets at night, I wanted to pass off as human.
Had days passed? A week or two? I didn't bother keeping track, that was future me's problem. He'd have a nice usable body and not have to struggle just to make it outside into the night. I was about to become him, as I grabbed the lighter sitting on a shelf. I felt it deep down, this was going to work, this was it. I stood in the clearing between the fields and the shed, the crow crew flying above. The fire from the lighter licked my fingers, catching as this body was only tinder.
The flames spread quickly, as I spread my arms letting the painful heat engulf every part of me. I'm like a phoenix! I laughed at the thought, though it wasn't wrong. From ashes and soot, I would rise again. Countless stars of different colors and sizes stared down at me, the crew of crows cawing. I reached up towards the sky, everything slowly overtaken by fire and heat.
There was a flash of light, the same kind that greeted me every time I switched bodies. Darkness came, giving way to color as my vision swam. I blinked without eyelids. That human part of me helped to remind me of who I was, and what I used to be. Even as those memories felt further by the day, I shuddered knowing I'd eventually forget all that. Gaudy sheets of aluminum and tin welded together greeted me as my depth perception returned. Everything was so vibrant and crisp now, with beams of half-charred wood holding the patchwork ceiling up. Can't beat free, right? "Mur-ma!"
Welp, I fucked up the mouth part. "Oh good, you're finally awake." Igor's voice lit up, I could tell he was smiling without even looking at him.
"Mur-mur-mur." Five more minutes bud. I rolled over on my side. It was going to take a few minutes to get used to a new body that wasn't falling apart and rotten. He kept quiet, while I flexed my 'muscles' and stretched my fibers.
That silence lasted all of five minutes, "So, are you still going to murmur, or are you going to talk to me?"
|"Why isn't my mouth working?"| I mentally sighed, glad to still use telepathy to talk to others. It should have worked, I have a mouth, a throat, a... I forgot the tongue! Motherf...
Igor grabbed my face and made me look at him. His bulging eye looked somewhere else as he pried my mouth open. "Looks like you don't..."
|"Yeah, I figured it out. Let go of me."| He did, taking a step back while I rubbed my cheek. |"Can't believe I forgot the fucking tongue. Can't I just sew one in?"|
He shook his head slowly, "No, once you're in a body you cannot alter it. The vessel will reject grafted-on entities to keep itself pure for your soul. How much knowledge did you retain from the memories exactly?" He rubbed his double chin, the five-o'clock shadow not doing him any favors.
I sat up, looking at the bucket he had been sitting on. |"You know I can't tell you that, it's like me asking you to tell me everything you remember. I have the important bits. You're still a bastard for forcing me into this."|
He clasped his hands together and lowered his head, "I cannot begin to ask for forgiveness, oh great guardian. I will do everything in my power to aid you, or the god of corn."
|"Can you make me more bodies again? Burn the rotten ones, I don't want to deal with that."| I scanned the room, surprised to see Joe wasn't here.
"I cannot burn the rotten ones, dear guardian. They are the emergency ones that will preserve you. Do you still plan on leaving the fields?" He didn't move from his half-bowed stance.
|"Yeah, I figure if I'll be here for a long time, I can at least handle my business before I commit to it. How's the crow crew? I see there are more of them."|
Igor smiled, "They have grown fat on the fries and seeds. They have abided by the pact and have yet to touch a kernel on these lands. They are helpful in removing the bugs, but that leaves me with so much more free time." He sighed, "I'm not used to it, even after all these months. Still, because they have grown fat other waywards have joined them. I believe Joe has mentioned a murder of one hundred."
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|"Neat,"| I hopped off the table and stretched. |"If you're bored make me a few bodies, maybe take up a hobby after? You should try planting some pumpkins next year."|
"Pumpkins?" He opened his eyes to look at me in confusion.
|"Yeah,"| I nodded, |"Pumpkins. I can use them as heads in the future. There are different types of bodies, I remembered fire and ice. I don't have to just use straw, but everything else is kind of short-lived. I mean dead bodies, snowball head, plus the trials I'd have to do!"| I shook my head. |"Just pumpkins are fine. I'll look into the rest if I really need them."|
"H-how many of their lives did you live through?" He swallowed thickly.
|"Enough? I knew I wasn't breaking free from the stand after a month and got into the rotten body. It was kind of like watching a movie, only extra immersive. I'm gonna go do my stuff, see you around."|
"Astounding." He stood there, struck dumb as I left.
The crow crew circled overhead as I waved at them. Joe was out in the forest, though I saw a few fly off to probably let him know I wasn't grounded anymore. I'd talk to him later. Halloween was tomorrow and I needed a reliable way to get back and forth from here to there. The truck was an option, but I didn't want to leave Igor without a way to get into town without the cops getting involved. I needed to be smarter about all this.
Rubbing my chin, I realized I could probably just steal someone else's car and hide it in the forest. Looking at my overalls and shirt, I realized I needed a jacket and some other clothes to go on top of this to pull off looking human. Yeah, it was time to put what I learned from the other guardians to use. With nothing better to do, I started walking the dirt road leading to the suburbs of the town.
I managed to make it fifteen minutes out before Joe landed on my shoulder. The crow was easily bigger than my head. He looked at me with his good eye, the other shut with a scar. |"Been a while, hasn't it?"| His voice was deeper for some reason, there was something about his eye that showed wisdom or something. Maybe it was there before and I just didn't notice.
Twenty of his crew trailed above, riding the winds. |"Sorry I couldn't talk to you more, things got wild after all that happened."|
He lowered his beak, |"You do not need to apologize. My sister is alive and well because of you. I'm here with my flock, who are fed and happy thanks to our accord. It seems that we've both grown a little."|
|"Yeah, maybe. Why are you following me?"| There wasn't much subtlety when a murder of crows could constantly give you away.
Joe pecked the side of my temple, |"I should be asking you why you didn't even as for me, you bastard!"| He let out an angry caw. |"Do you know how long a year is for our kind?"|
|"Nope."| Honesty was the best policy. |"I just wanted to go into town, get a car, and get out. I thought you were going to keep the farm safe."|
He pecked me again, |"The farm is safe, I'm your familiar!"| Oh right, if I die the pact is broken. Magic is weird like that, not that I could die while the farm is safe. Another peck, |"I can feel your emotions! I'm not doing this just because of the pact!"|
I felt some of his anger and frustration. It took me a second to puzzle it out, |"Yeah, you're better than that. Sorry, I'm not in a good headspace right now. A lot of the edgelords saw familiars as tools. Still trying to figure out how much of me is left, you know?"|
Joe squinted his good eye at me, |"You lived through the lives of those that came before you..."|
|"Stop, already got that from Igor. I don't need more 'words of wisdom,' or 'this is your fate,' kind of bullshit dialogue. Please don't be edgy, I don't want any edgelord bullshit until I at least figure some of my own stuff out. I appreciate it, but no thanks."| He went quiet at that.
A full minute passed before he started talking in my head again. |"So you want a car, right?"|
My lips curled, |"Yeah, maybe a few in case the cops go looking. You guys could even tell me where to drive so people don't see me."|
|"We could also just grab the keys off someone. They're easy to see and shiny enough for me to convince the others to grab them."|
|"You can do that?"| I blinked at him, only to be met with a nod. |"That actually sounds a lot easier than hotwiring whatever I ran across."|
He gave me a blank stare, |"It also works better for my crew, since I want to keep them close. I don't know how the factions have shifted in town. We're outcasts and wanderers in our culture. A group that left the town and returns stronger is sure to have a few eyes watching them."|
|"What exactly does that even mean? Also, what do you want to do if we run across that group from last time?"|
Joe shivered a little, his feathers ruffled. |"If we see Flocker, we'll retreat. He'll be out for blood since we saved my sis. You still don't want to kill anyone, right?"|
I shrugged, |"Can't say I do, but I will if I have to."|
It felt as though Joe smiled a little, |"I'm glad you haven't changed too much then. So many would have changed after going through what you did. The power you hold, the experiences you went through. Why..."|
|"Joe..."| He stopped, then looked at me, |"I said no edgy, angsty bullshit. Tell me about crow culture. That sounds so cool, is there a king or something?"|
Joe puffed up his chest, |"Fine, no edgy lines."| It almost sounded as though he were laughing inside. |"To learn your history you have to start with the first crow, the sire of all those flocks that came before us. He who loved death and embraced her."|
He went on about their history during the walk to town. I didn't stop him at any part since he just enjoyed sharing it. It could have been explained so much quicker though. Basically, there was a mad lad crow that got freaky with death. They couldn't have kids, since death couldn't give life. There was a consensual affair, the eggs were blessed by death and the surrogate. One of the young crows did something they shouldn't, which led to them being 'cursed' with serving death and guiding souls for her.
The whole thing was kind of weird, but then there was a war. That broke the crows into factions based on the 'daughters of death.' Young female crows that are blessed with the power to talk to the spirits of the world and borrow their powers and wisdom. A faction wasn't a faction unless it had one of these priestesses. Though that only pertained to crows, since there were so many factions in town.
Novac hadn't changed much in the year that passed. Other than the welcome sign saying the population was at two thousand five hundred and counting. Not a huge boom, just a more accurate number given how few of us there were here. Thinking about it, it kinda made sense why everyone stuck with their cliques. All the faction bs, all the small tells. Novac had monsters in it, just never knew it was literal in this sleepy town.
Joe sent his group ahead to get a feel of the place, the walk had taken more than a few hours. The moon was getting close to its peak, while lights flicked off for those heading to sleep. Dirt gave way to gravel, which finally turned to asphalt that hadn't been repaired in years. Patches for the potholes and flickering lights made me feel as though I finally made it to the outskirts of home.
Where do I start? The thought made me panic. What should I do first? How am I supposed to approach this? My hands shook a little, before the emotion was suppressed. I had already realized I couldn't just approach the people from before I died. Not directly, not without risking them. Joe flew off my shoulder when the others cawed, leaving me to roam the dimly lit street.
There was a shady bar that everyone stayed away from. A place I could steal a jacket and maybe scrape up some loose change. Not that I needed money for anything, just it would help if something popped up. I don't know what I'm doing. I stuck to the shadows, making sure to watch Joe and the others. They flew from one roof to another, this part of town deserted so late at night. It was only ever active whenever the farms brought produce in to sell and process. The workshops before suburbia were so silent.
I picked up a rock, taking it into my palm. Practice for hiding other things inside my body. My straw moved and held the rocks in place, as a brilliant idea formed. I moved them towards the knuckles then flexed my fingers. A small smile formed as I lightly tapped a wall. Rock knuckles were a bit more sturdy than hay.
A stray cat was rummaging around one of the empty cans. The poor thing looked hungry. It hissed at me and I gave it some room. I made a mental note to bring it some food later, more animal friends wouldn't hurt. Wish I could say the adventure to the pub was more exciting, but it was just me and Joe working out how we could make this work.
The idea was simple, it was a good plan. I eyed the pub from the alley, looking at the flickering neon sign. "Bill's Pub," with a red plus. I didn't know Bill, nor all his biker friends with pickup trucks. I did know that everyone went there at least once after they could drink. The jukebox was playing some country music, loud enough to be heard outside. If I could smell the tobacco, it'd probably be suffocating.
Still, I smiled to myself. A bunch of drunks playing darts or something else. None of them kept tabs on their keys, all of them too out of it to give chase if someone drove off with their car. It still felt awful to actually go through with this. What if they didn't have insurance to pay for their car? I held my head, lamenting the thought. What if I ruined their life? The thought made me shiver, I didn't want to be the bad guy. I just needed a car!
We'll find money later. I could come back and pay the guy. Just leave a note in their pocket or under their pillow... okay that's creepy now that I think about it. It takes way too long to walk into town, it's just one of the shittier cars. I'll look up the value on Jimmy Redbooks and pay it back. I nodded to myself, while the crows circled looking for their mark.
I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder, the cold icy grip like a beartrap. "Muuuurr!"
"Yer a long way from home, mister scarecrow." A thick accent said, he let go of me so I could turn around and face him.
It took me a second to process who I was looking at. A pale-skinned man with a beer belly, wearing sunglasses at night of all things! I was pretty sure he had a mullet, given how his dark hair reached his shoulders. His beard was stubbly, as he cracked open a can of bludwieser. He wore a denim jacket, with a v-neck underneath. The assault on fashion was complete with the crocs he wore. I did like that it had googly eyes and fake teeth were drawn on to make it look like a gater.
"Cat got yer tongue, boy?" He raised a brow at me.
"Mur?" I tried to talk to him, to establish a mental connection, yet I couldn't. There was some kind of block there. We both stared at each other, confused about what to do next.
He grinned, fangs glinting in the moonlight. "'Murica, that's right. Hope you weren't plannin' on starting trouble here."
I rubbed the back of my neck, slowly shaking my head. He sniffed loudly, before spitting at the wall. He took a step to the side gesturing for me to walk past him. Didn't see a reason not to, and as I walked past the walls I saw two more of them. Each of them with various fashion disasters. Something was about to happen, I just didn't know what.