Chapter 6: Obedience
“Magical girl questions?” I certainly had a lot of questions. Do they become magical girl questions because I, a magical girl, would be asking them?
Nightingale elaborated, “Questions about being a magical girl. None of this is common knowledge, so ask what you want to know.”
The first question that came to mind was ‘why the secrecy?’ but that one was obvious, it’s because this is awful. It’s obvious they would hide all the torture, mutilation, and terror. But something about that didn’t quite add up.
“Why do they help us? The gods, I mean. If they don’t care about us, just want us to suffer, then why stop the machines?”
The dead cannot despair.
“Not all of the lords crave suffering, that’s Lord Shiquoth’s domain. What they want is worship, which is something the AI can’t offer. So they help us.”
Rocks do not have souls.
So we’re basically livestock. Fantastic.
“So what are the other gods like?” I don’t even know their names, but maybe the others are better. They’re here to save us, after all.
I am your only god. Do not concern yourself with the lesser lords.
Nightingale cleared her throat. “You don’t need to know about the other lords. Rather, it’s better if you know as little as possible. Act like they don’t exist. If conversation demands it, refer to them by color.”
The extra voice in my head was still a bit jarring, but I was getting used to it. “So they don’t get along?”
They are abominations.
“Generally not, though it’s a bit more complex. Some we can at least work with. Tomorrow we’ll have you see what a team is like. One red girl and one blue girl. But the lords would all wage war if not for a common threat.”
This was not a comforting description of the benevolent saviors of humanity. The divine beings that gifted us the power of magic. But even so, “Why me? I’m not heroic and I don’t have some kind of special talent. Wouldn’t someone else be better for the role?” Someone like Chloe.
I felt sick with myself for wanting her to take my place.
Do not delude yourself. All mortals are worthless. You were offered to me. The offering was acceptable. Your flesh is mine. That is why you serve.
“… Lord Shiquoth… isn’t the one to select magical girls. Other than the pact, of course, which has esoteric criteria. The cult would be the ones who initially picked you. Ask them if you want, but it’s fine to think you were picked at random.”
Nightingale seemed uncomfortable. She probably heard the same thing from Shiquoth as me. I… probably wasn’t going to ask further. I don’t think I could face Mrs. Crenshaw after what happened.
“What is the cult though? Beyond the obvious.” It was clear they were worshipers of an evil god. But I couldn’t fathom why anyone would knowingly do that, and I doubted they were all magical girls. Based on how Nightingale talked about them, it seemed like we weren’t quite part of the group either.
Those who embrace despair.
“There’s one for each lord. Ours is specifically known as the Followers of the Eye. They’ve actually been around for a while, but were even more secretive before the need for magical girls. They are people who find comfort in Lord Shiquoth’s philosophy. They can’t fight, they don’t meet Lord Shiquoth’s standards, but they’ll do anything else to assist us. After all, we’ve become part of their god.”
“What do you mean?”
Nightingale looked me straight in the eye. “Lord Shiquoth is connected to your soul. They do not exist in the mortal plane, on Earth, but you do. So they make a pact, spreading roots inside your being. You act as their limb, a physical body to influence the world with. That’s why you can use magic.”
I shivered as the meaning set it. It was inside of me. Tainting my very soul. That wasn’t what I agreed to. I felt violated. I groped at my body looking for some kind of opening, a growing desire to tear off my skin and remove the repulsive creature infesting me. It wanted me to stick eyes in my flesh. I started furiously scratching at the scars on my back, trying to pry them open to remove the foreign entity. I could hear its sickening laugh in my head. No, not in my head, shaking my very being.
“Hold on, stop! Stop!” Nightingale grabbed my arms and pinned them to my sides.
I stopped. I didn’t want to make her angry again. I just looked at her and cried. She pulled me close and hugged me. “It’s okay” she whispered, “nothing has changed in you. You’re still the same.” I didn’t believe a word of it. She felt filthy. I squirmed against her arms, but she just tightened her hold. I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t escape. Everything had already been over, and I didn’t even know until now. It was time to give up. I my body went slack and I simply let the tears flow.
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I don’t know how long it took, but eventually I was empty. At some point Nightingale had sat on the floor to let me cry into her lap instead. I’m sure she was just tired of standing. I was tired myself.
“So what now?” I asked. It was time to move on.
“What do you mean?”
You leave.
“Oh,” Nightingale continued, “what to do next. Lord Shiquoth is probably right. There’s more you’ll need to know, but we can save that for another time. There’s no rush. Let’s get you home.”
Ignoring her, I pushed myself up and headed for the door. Nightingale called out as I trudged down the hallway.
“You might want to detransform before leaving. It might be dark out by now, but it’s better not to run around transformed without a reason.”
So I obediently made a request to the god.
“Lord Shiquoth… human… please.”
I lacked the energy to articulate, but apparently this was good enough; I felt a shift as my body grew heavy, and looking down confirmed that my outfit had changed back to regular clothes. I took the key out of my pocket and moved to unlock the door outside. I missed the lock the first time, but got it on the second try and pressed my weight against it to force it open. As I walked out from the alleyway and down the street I could hear Nightingale’s footsteps behind me. She had probably detransformed as well, but I didn’t bother to look. I just walked home in silence, simply watching each crack on the sidewalk pass me. Eventually, we reached my house.
“Hey” she called out. This time I turned to look at her and the same blonde girl from earlier today stared back. “I’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow. Same time. And you should take this.” Nightingale passed me a plain bag; it looked like the one from the eye room. “I grabbed your wand. You can keep it in here, so nobody sees it. Please, try not to lose it. For your own sake.”
I understood what she meant, and would make sure to remember. For Shiquoth’s sake, I needed to be ready to die at any time. I turned back around and headed to my house. Opening the door, I mumbled a hello to nobody in particular and took off my shoes.
“Hey, Becca!” My dad called from the kitchen. “Welcome back. You’re doing a book club, right? Did you have fun?”
Not even remotely.
“It was fine.”
“Alright, fine is fine. There are leftovers in the fridge if you want something to eat.”
I was practically starving.
“Not now.”
And with that I went up to my room, shut the door, and threw myself onto the bed without getting changed. It didn’t matter, I was filthy anyway. I needed a shower, but it wouldn’t help and I didn’t care. I rolled my head and looked at the bag in my hand. There was something awful in there too. I had nowhere to put it. Maybe in the closet… with the bloody clothes. I guess the bed was already an issue anyway, wasn’t it. Not that I was planning to do anything about it now. I just laid there. Watching the piles of books, connecting faces from marks and chipped paint on the walls and ceiling; they stared back at me.
Eventually, after what must have been hours of nothingness, I checked the time; it was only 8:48. I didn’t want to sleep. Definitely not yet, at least. I didn’t know what would appear in my dreams, and even worse it would mean waking up tomorrow. I needed something to distract myself with.
“Lord Shiquoth, let me transform.”
For what purpose?
I was not expecting the question. Was I not even allowed to transform without permission.
“… I need to get out. Go to the park. I can’t do that as a human right now.”
Foolish. My power is not for your entertainment.
“I could fight any robots while I’m there. You know, help defeat your enemy.”
Electricity does not qualify as my enemy. Inanimate objects are no threat to me. You pathetic soul factory. It is your ilk that chose to fabricate an artificial disaster. To bring about your own downfall. It is your own enemy of your own creation. I do not command you to fight. You do not fight that which does not live. I command you to destroy. For it is a task that simple.
It was already abundantly clear that they had no respect for human life though, so I was not particularly surprised by this attitude. However, I was in awe at how much Shiquoth had to say on the matter. After all, the entity was normally excessively concise when it spoke.
“I… apologize for the phrasing. Am I allowed to go destroy robots and save humanity?”
No. It is a holy day. Threats are needed for despair to form. You are not permitted to stop them.
Did it just… say no? I was a magical girl banned from fighting. It wants the machines to grow stronger, to terrorize us. Are we even trying to win this war? Apparently this doesn’t even qualify as a war, yet I’m being asked to stand idle and let the ‘artificial disaster’ kill us all. That doesn’t make sense. I didn’t even want to fight, that’s just what I was chosen for, yet that very purpose I had just accepted was being denied. And for what reason?
“What do you mean ‘holy day?’ And why should I not honor you with destruction on the arbitrary day you arbitrarily chose? If that’s an issue, then just move it to another day. Aren’t you the god? And the machines are already a global threat, so destroying a few of them myself isn’t going to ruin your precious despair."
As if to reward my bravery for standing up to a higher being, I met with a searing pain in my eyes. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t afford to let my family hear. I shut my eyelids as tight as possible but it didn’t help. I rolled and writhed on the bed, clawing at my face, until eventually the pain started to fade.
You ignorant cur. So you have chosen to blaspheme me directly. If you wish for death so badly, then so be it. You may go for your stroll. You will find no salvation there. Learn well from this mistake.
And suddenly, I was a magical girl. I sat up and took in the transformation. I really had no control over it after all; I could only ask and hope that my prayers were granted. This time, however, I did not seem to have Shiquoth’s blessing. But despite the foreboding farewell, I knew I was in too deep to back out.
It was still too early to sneak out through the front door, so I grabbed my wand, opened my bedroom window, and dropped into the night.