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Phantom Limb: and the Chorus of the Dead
37. Rosemary's Wirebaby (Part 10)

37. Rosemary's Wirebaby (Part 10)

“Over Gold,” Goldie said just as the first shots were fired at her, and her heels began to extend with golden spikes, sending her flying into the air, a glass of wine in one hand and a corpse in the other. This guy might be a clone too. I have to kill it without touching it or else it might get stuck to me too. But how do I know what’s an actual weapon I can use and what’s a manifestation of this guy’s Civ? Goldie landed on a table and immediately fell to her knees. A terrible sickness was emerging into her stomach as her head pounded. Her vision was blurry, and she couldn’t focus on where the burglar was. Am I just going to keep getting drunker until I die? No, that’s ridiculous. This motherfucker will blow my brains out before that happens. How merciful. Suddenly, she felt a burning projectile tear through her shoulder, leaving a gaping hole in it.

“I don’t focus on murder, Goldie, but I’m okay with it. Consider that a warning shot.”

“PHANTRANA OVER GOLD!” Goldie screeched as the skin around the uncomfortably large hole extended and grew, filling the wound. At the same time, a golden blade of bone extended from her forearm in the shape of a scythe, and she sliced off her right hand with it, the Civ-created glass of wine falling to the ground and shattering as her hand fell limp as well. Her vision returned to normal, and she performed the same maneuver with her other hand, before standing up on the table and looking down at the petty thief. Her hands were on the floor, and now two golden scythes made from extended bone tore out of her forearms, and the wounds were covered with a shiny covering. “You really thought I’d go down so easy? I might have alcohol that arose from my troubled past, but so does everyone else.”

Romeo aimed his gun at Goldie’s head, preparing to fire.

“What separates me from them is that I’m not fucking weak.”

A metal mass surrounded by a coating of red-hot energy pierced the skin just above Goldie’s left eye, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, the bullet stopped, and as a result of perfect timing, it flew out of her head as a spike of golden phantom skull shot it out of her forehead like a pinball. A pinball that pierced right through Romeo’s face, sending him falling back, leaving him limp on the tile floor.

Then, Goldie noticed that Thomas had stopped screaming, and panic filled her eyes. “THOMAS! Mama’s coming, Son!” she shouted, arming herself with her golden bone scythes as she jumped off the table. As she began to sprint towards the stairwell that would take her to her son, she saw Thomas step down from it, rubbing his eyes. Completely fine. “Thomas!”

“Hey, Mom. Why do you have the scythes again? Did you need to open another bottle? I told you we have bottle openers for tha—”

Goldie wrapped her arms around her son, thankful to the heavens that he was spared . . . and taking care not to pierce him with her scythes.

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* * *

Romeo Straitzi’s trap had worked. He was slowly and carefully advancing behind Goldie, his heat gun poised to tear through her head at point-blank range. Goldie couldn’t let go of her “Son”.

Finally, I’ve managed to pacify you. The effects of holding your son have been amplified, and you no longer have any desire to rip through me with those special blades. I admit, you were a formidable opponent—but easily manipulated. Romeo pressed the silver barrel against Goldie’s temple. She didn’t notice. Goodbye, you—

Romeo looked down to see the tip of a large silver knife pointing out of his stomach. “W-what?” Romeo was puzzled, blood leaking out of his mouth and into his mask. He slowly turned his head around, his arms and legs paralyzed from pain and shock as the knife tore through his spinal cord. And he saw Thomas Finn, staring up at him with a furious and determined look in his eyes.

“Anybody who hurts my family is as good as dead.” Thomas hissed, twisting the knife with instinctual brutality, before gripping it with both hands and shrieking as he carved out a massive chunk of Romeo’s flesh.

“NO! Please, boy, stop it! You’re going to kill me. Please!” Romeo howled, his blood dripping out of the holes in his jet-black jumpsuit.

“Die.” Thomas stared ahead and pressed on. It felt so natural to kill this man. He had to do it. Then, the knife left the man’s flesh with a performative flourish, blood splattering all over the floor in a crimson drizzle. Then, the knife fell from Thomas’s hand.

Goldie quickly realized that she was hugging nothing before turning around with a start and seeing her true son standing over the body of a dead man, looking down at it with contempt in his eyes. “T-Thomas?” Goldie stuttered, struggling to wrap her head around what she saw in front of her. “Did you—?”

“I had to.” Thomas looked like he was about to cry. And then he ran towards his mother, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her shoulder.

Goldie returned the embrace. “I love you son. And I’m never going to leave you again, okay?” Goldie looked down at the corpse of the thief. God, I hope this doesn’t create a dangerous pattern for him. “Never.”

* * *

“That was . . . different. From what I remember.” Thomas was sitting against a wall outside of Blair’s apartment, his hands on his knees as he awoke from the trip.

“That’s because it wasn’t your memory. It was mine. That’s how I was able to show both your and your mother’s side of what happened. Thomas, have you learned anything from what you saw?”

“She said she’d never leave Phantrana. She said never.”

“I know. I know, Thomas.”

“It isn’t fair. It isn’t, it isn’t, it isn’t, it isn’t—”

“Thomas, please,” Phantrana whispered as Thomas looked around the void that had suddenly appeared. Tears were streaming down his face. “Do you know what I noticed?”

“What?”

“That you two are exactly the same.”

Thomas paused upon hearing this. “I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about becoming my parents until I was in my forties . . .” Thomas chuckled slightly as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I kind of noticed that too, by the way.”

“And she was a good woman, really. She loved you more than anything in the entire world, and there was nothing she would rather do than spend time with you for the rest of her life. But you too are, again, a lot alike. And trust me when I tell you, that she wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“I can’t just give her up, Phantrana. Both of them. I can’t leave them behind. I just can’t do it. I thought I was taking the job to protect Blair and Piotr, but it was really to protect myself, wasn’t it?”

“Thomas, you need to. Or else, just like her, it will destroy you. You need to move on—make new friends in this world. The present.”

“I don’t want to talk about how she died. I don’t need to remember that again.”

Suddenly, the grid faded to a scene of the road outside of Blair’s apartment building. A woman was walking towards him.

“Thomas?” Blair asked, quickly approaching and stopping in front of him. “What are you doing out here? It’s the middle of the night? You must be freezing!” Blair noticed the tears in Thomas’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Thomas looked at Blair. “Hey, this might sound odd, but . . . do you want to play some Trivial Pursuit?”

Blair smiled, deciding not to press the issue. “Of course.