Enveloping… Darkness holds tight…

The dampness is what she could feel…

Cold.

The blinding lack of light, all she could see…

Silent.

Reaching to the greatest of depths…

No one.

Her fingers find no point to stop.

No walls, or chains. No bars or groping touch.

Nothing.

Evil lurks near, observing its prey.

Flesh of the dark, pure putrid in self.

For a self can be putrid.

And one can be evil.

But can the darkness truly be infinite?

Alone, she knows nothing.

For nothing is what it shall give.

Not even a name does she hold.

Never has she seen a face.

Ears ignorant to the voice of another.

Yet she knows her own screams.

For in the dark they cry, their voices her own.

She hears herself beg for mercy.

It is not her lips speaking.

From the suffering darkness, she listens to the future.

Her future of torment.

And evil…

It shall watch. It shall wait. It shall lust to taste.

Eventually, she too will cry. She will scream. She will bleed.

And it will laugh. It will feel pleasure.

For it will please itself.

Alone, it will bathe in her torment and gore.

Fear is the only love she shall know.

For he shall feed. He shall breed. And she. Shall. Bleed.

Her own delicious torment,

is all he shall have her know.

Alone in the darkness, the innocent smiles,

into the very thing she will wish was not.

For the darkness will rip the smile from her, and make her forget.

In the darkness, she was not the first nor the last.

But the pain, for her, was just as important.

This moment, this smile she will stubbornly make,

taken or left,

shall forever be!

Is it faith? Does she believe her smile to stay?

The evil laughs.

...

...

No longer there to smile,

the darkness is now void of life.

No hands to push into its depths.

No hope to fill its suffocating embrace.

Her faith had been in vain.

And the evil, made itself another.

The darkness once again had company.

And once again… she smiled.

Maybe this time… that smile will survive.

~The Consumed Smiles

~Feldyn Goldchord, the Endless Bard

* * *

The day was beginning to get worse for him; this morning it was just a toenail or two, now he could smell the exposed bowel, as it finally began to push though his rotting abdomen. This was really getting annoying; he seriously needed to eat more. And soon. It was so hard to eat properly in this country without causing a shit-storm. Xal would just have to learn some patience! He needed some fucking food before an arm fell off. Fuck driving big rigs while missing appendages. Why was it his responsibility to haul everything, anyway?

The large ugly man driving the semi, pulled off the highway. He had been heading northbound on I-5, and had crossed into Oregon not long ago. Turning wide, he swung the large, unmarked trailer as he took a left into town, running a red light at the empty intersection. Normally, he would be more careful, and definitely would not be stopping at a convenience store this close to the highway. But things weren’t really normal, he told himself as he parked his smog-farting vehicle along the side of the building.

He sneezed, and his tongue detached. Barely caught it in his lips before it fell all the way out of his fetid mouth. Grumbling, he wiped the saliva and pus from the sores on his lip and shoved his tongue back in with his meaty hand. Holding the base in place with sausage-like fingers, his large jaw was open so wide that it should have been hideously uncomfortable. Not to mention, difficult to breathe. But who had time for breathing? Such a wasteful function. Finally removing his hand, he slowly began wiggling his tongue in the rear view mirror that he had readjusted to see himself in. Good, it reattached! Meat was also such a bothersome, wasteful necessity. He would have preferred something more… ethereal. Yet you could never give up physical pleasure! Really was quite a conundrum.

Larry belched, and he’d be damned if he didn’t burp out a faint green cloud of something nasty! He would have laughed that such a thing were even possible, if not for fear of something falling off or rupturing… or outright exploding. Motherfucking, cocksucking, fucking MEAT! Just to rot and die like all of God’s other bullshit failures!

With a sigh, and a bubbling, sputtering fart (he ignored whatever just shot out of his ass, but hoped it wasn’t important), Larry got out of the large vehicle. His size fourteen steel-toed boots thumped hard on the foot-step. His jeans soiled from many substances that should not be on -nor in- one’s clothing. Woo lord, he smelled! Before stepping to the ground, he glanced into the side view mirror, taking a better look at his shit-ugly mug. Bloodshot brown eyes, horrible acne and sores dotting his face, lips housing pus-dripping blisters, smile showing teeth of varying colors of decay.

Brushing greasy and matted brown hair back from his forehead with one large hand, Larry deemed himself nasty! But this should work until he got some food. Even if that food was going to come from a bag, or a can. Better than nothing, he supposed. He could eat something real, soon enough.

Halfway to the front door of the mini-mart, his abdomen ruptured, spilling horribly decayed entrails, and feces that looked like the black tar in a smoker’s lungs. “Son of a bitch,” the cesspool of a man muttered, frantically trying to catch them through his shirt. How in the fuck was he going to buy food like this without causing a scene? He didn’t really want to have to kill the entire town, just to cover one sloppy shopping trip. Yet, he would at least get some real food if that ended up being the case…

So now the fuck what? Then, looking around as the station annoyingly began to get customers, entrails loosely held inside with two hands, he saw them. A ways down the road near a giant propane tank and a sign advertising assholes and mustard, or something like that. Two girls. Teenagers, by the looks of them. And the one in the skirt was extending her thumb to passing cars, even showing some thigh. Stupid cunt. But thanks to her stupidity… Larry may get to eat after all.

He scooped out as much of the exposed innards from under his shirt as seemed necessary, and flung the filth off to the side. No one was looking, of course. Pinching the rupture closed with one hand as he got back in the truck, Larry settled into his seat with a grunt. Feeling less fluids oozing between his fingers, he relaxed and released his hand slowly, and was pleased to feel the skin fusing.

Wiping his hand on the seat, he grabbed a bottle of pump air fresheners and began dousing everything, himself included. He then drank the remainder of the bottle. Might as well leak it out from the inside to help with the stench! Even the flies were dead, he mused at the decent layer accumulating on the broad dash. With a mental note to buy (or just take) more air freshener, Larry had the truck started and moving around the building, before pulling out to stop on the other side of the road from the two girls.

“Need a ride?” he asked out his window. The one showing thigh was in a cheerleader skirt. She turned to stick her tongue out at the meeker, nerdier looking girl. Bimbo legs ran across the street, and around to climb in the passenger’s side. “Thanks, we are going north!” she announced, seemingly oblivious to the smell as she climbed in the back, squeezing behind the passenger’s seat as the back cabin area was packed with garbage and boxes. Which forced the bookworm-looking creature to sit in the front. Her expression showed that at least she had an olfactory.

“Sorry about the smell,” Larry apologized, sounding friendly. “There was a mishap at a stop a few states back, can’t exactly just go home and clean up the problem. Head north, you said? Will take you as far as I can.” Getting the rig moving, he looked for a good turnaround to get back on the highway.

The girl next to him sat with hands in lap, looking straight ahead. Polite, proper, and afraid. Larry guessed she was fourteen? Maybe even fifteen or sixteen? Fuck, could be twenty. It was so hard for him to tell, since he didn’t really care much about such things. What he did care about was flavor, and Miss Boring here probably had no seasoning to her meat at all. The one in the back -that wouldn’t shut the fuck up!- looked tastier. More meat, and probably a slut. Looked about as good to him as bacon, and Larry loved his fucking bacon!

Americans were so unhealthy. But at least they had some calories and variety to them. Larry hated being in the deeper Asian countries. It was like eating one food, no matter where you went. Not enough calories to sustain him, and the meat was so god-awfully dry! Had to go to Korea to find any flavor, yet still nothing of any real substance. Don't even get him started on North Korea! He guessed Japan was getting more fatty these days… His last trip there actually gave him some heartburn. China though, whew, China did a thing or two, if you knew where to look... But the Americas? Like down in Mexico? Hah! Now they had some butt rippling good flavor! If the food makes you shart, it’s the way to your heart! Bua ha ha! Good times.

Right now, that was all trivial! He was starving, and the reminiscing was making it worse. Miss chubby-cheeks in the back would be the junk food. Skinny-hips here can be the fiber. It amused him how the popular ones were always more out of shape, where the quiet nerds that were teased, had the better bodies. The pretty ones were always fucking hated though. Maybe cuz they tasted like crap? Beauty is only good with your dick in it, not on a fucking plate.

Though humans don’t generally eat each other, do they? Fuckers are missing out.

He couldn’t wait any more. He was beyond hungry and it seemed a kidney had just come loose. Damn. Normally he avoided eating on main roads (let alone an interstate…), but this was an emergency! Larry reached over and casually ripped the arm off of the bookworm next to him. He was thankful that the whore in the back shut up finally. Biting a few fingers off the severed arm, he made a face. 'Aw blech, a virgin alright!' The hype about virgins never made any sense to him. No fun and no flavor!

The virgin bitch (who was in a state of shock, having had an arm ripped off) began whimpering and whining loudly. Why do people do that? He didn’t get it. She looked like a smart girl. Had to know she was going to die, given the situation. Why be all afraid and whiny? She should be trying to kill him, am I right? WRONG! Humans are complete, pathetic pieces of shit.

She then began to cry to Jesus to save her. HE HATED WHEN THEY DID THAT! Ugh, of all people, why Him? Why not one of the many wannabes like Zeus or Buddha? It just had to be Captain Pacifism. Rolling up his window, Larry set the arm down on his lap, frowning at the blood-spray obscured windshield, and the girl began to cry louder for the Christ to save her.

Larry caved in the side of her head with a single punch. “There,” he said, ripping part of her shirt off to use to wipe the windshield, “he answered. Your suffering ended quickly.” Taking another bite of the arm, Larry accidentally let some of the meat fall from his mouth. Dammit, not like this girl had a lot on her to begin with… Great, now the remaining girl was screaming; having wiped some of the blood from her face, staring at her red hands triggered the drama.

He didn’t care; he was famished. And the cab was designed to be soundproof with the windows up. Let the bitch scream.

When he didn’t have much left besides some elbow -wasn’t sure if his teeth could take all this crunch right now- he needed something that didn’t taste like boiled grass.

The whore in the back was still screaming. Just screaming. How retarded. Can’t she even try to escape? He hoped she tasted better than fiber bitch up here.

Larry reached back and ripped off her left ear, and popped it in his mouth like a potato chip. She tasted amazing! And the pain made her retch, so she shut the fuck up for a moment. Mmmmm… This one had worse luck in life… been raped a few times too. He also tasted a bit of suicidal depression. Fucking mouthwatering. He figured he could take one more taste now. Reaching back again, he grabbed her wrist, dug his fingers into it, and snapped it back and forth a couple times, then twisted and yanked her hand off. She was, of course, screaming again. Taking a bite, Larry almost jumped out of his seat!

She was terrified to die! Of going to Hell! His quasi-demon status was a bit new, and his ability to see the Christ Mark not really developed; Larry could taste the Chains of Sin. Bitch is going to Hell for sure. She knows this, yet doesn’t cry out to Christ… Dumb little piggy.

That wasn’t why he had been startled. Her terror was so great, it was essentially basting her meat to an extraordinary juiciness! And the pain, oh the delicious pain, was giving her the best gamey taste.

Still having an entire state to cross before getting to Castle Rock, he reached into a compartment for something to keep her from bleeding out. Had to make sure the dumb bitch stayed alive and screaming. Best to let that shit simmer!

* * *

The meeting hall was not what they had been expecting. Following Reba through a pair of swinging wooden doors, they walked into what was probably once a small cafeteria. Dead center in the room was a long, slender banquet table. It appeared to be stainless steel. One solid piece of stainless steel. So long was this one piece of metal, it had like twelve or something armchair recliners set around it, with plenty of space between them. They were in varying stages of repair, making the setup look almost like some sci-fi hillbilly’s décor. 'No way in hell that’s one piece of metal,' Caleb thought. If so, what did they do, make it in here? It was huge.

The left wall was almost all kitchen counter, and cooking or food-related devices. Caleb noticed four vending machines and a fountain soda dispenser at the far end that Gigi was running to, coins spilling from her hands. Was a miracle she still had any when she got to them… Her squeal told Caleb that at least something had candy. There were a total of six sinks in the black marble counter top. Sure, make the table ugly stainless, and get a cool kitchen counter. Caleb never got the interior designing skills of some people.

Casually making his own way past the many cooking appliances, Feldyn picked up most of the dropped coins as he stepped next to Gigi. Looking at all the options in these clear-paneled food vending machines, he was lost. The blonde critter did not appear to be. She had a rather large pile of wrapped objects next to her and was frowning at a smaller machine. It appeared to hold loose candies, dispensing though a chute, which was held shut with a metal flap. Looking up at him, her wide green eyes were thoughtful to the point of being comedic. “I think I need a bucket.” She threw her arms out in a sigh too big for her size, and asked, “Who has buckets these days?” When she wasn’t fighting demons, she was busy slaying the hearts of those around her! Feldyn couldn’t help but laugh, “I’m sure we can find something.”

Hands on hips, he made a thoughtful face of his own, as he looked into the machine next to him. “Any recommendations?” He truly did not know what most of the items were. “Try them all, I’m rich!” Gigi announced, sweeping her hands at the pile of things on the floor, then back at the trail of coins. She paused to blink, as they had magically seemed to vanish. “I’ve been stolen…” she breathed without moving. Feldyn almost laughed again. “I retrieved them for you,” he showed her the coins in his hands. “Oh!” she chirped, and giggle-snorted once. “Keep them, my peasant!” She picked up a wrapped candy bar, and handed it to him. With a smirk at this silly human child, he opened the… chocolate coated candy bar. Biting into it… he decided he would start by buying these!

When Pazely screamed, Stryker spilled his large soda all over the counter as he was putting a lid on it. Reba rolled her eyes and got him a towel. You think he would be used to her outbursts by now… “REBA!” Pazely screeched, her whine loud enough that Ally threw an apple at her from the table. Pazely caught it without paying much attention. “Why is the wall covered in weapons?” She pointed over her shoulder. She never meant to be so loud, it just happened! It was pretty embarrassing though, and she got tired of being made fun of or in trouble for it. At least Caleb seemed to like it when she was all noisy… A dirty thought drifted through her imagination briefly.

“Where did you get all of these…?” Caleb’s question trailed off, staring at the wall. Displaying weapons of many forms on a wall wasn’t unheard of. Nor were the kids so ignorant as to be easily impressed with firearms or blades. It was what was on this wall! Under a coat of arms display he didn’t pay much attention to, hung dozens of individual weapons. There were swords and knives, maces, axes, and flails, bazookas, a rocket launcher, some grenades in cases to better display, and military grade assault weapons, handguns, and fancy-looking revolvers. There had to be millions of dollars worth! And more than a few felonies…

Maybe you should kill everyone here? Cram some blades up some pussies!

They can help you; you can trust them!

Okay, so it wasn’t a good idea to let his thoughts wander. But still, these thoughts… seemed to have increased in volume. Not thoughts. Voices. But it was just his own head, so hearing voices in his head, was just thoughts, with chemical imbalances or something. Right? Or sas he (yes)(no) actually going (remain calm) crazy (crazy crazy crazy crazy)? Caleb stood, un-blinking, trying not to think. Not to panic. To stay calm. 'The hell is happening to me?!'

“That was here when we arrived,” John explained, as he had just walked into the room, followed by Bryan, who was acting as a pack mule. Bryan didn’t make eye contact, going straight to the counter to set down the boxes he carried, and take the plastic bags of food off his arms. “We did add a few items of import to us. If we have time, I am more than willing to tell you the stories behind them.” Caleb saw a twinkle in the old man’s eye as he sipped his coffee.

And for the first time, Caleb noticed this old man had an odd youth to him, and wasn't as old as he had thought. With the white hair, robe, staff, and shuffling gate, their was an illusion of elderly for a man that could be maybe in his fiftys. Only that didn't seem right either...

Reba sighed from the table, “isn’t what you are already going to tell them enough?” Reba… did not look happy. “I mean, really? Why are you so excited about this?” The sadness in her voice took the attention of the room. John knew her fears, and truly felt terrible for her. And he knew that she understood the importance of this.

Then his heart sped up a bit when he noticed Officer Stricksent looking at the wall of felonies, and reflexively gripped his staff tighter. Stryker noticed the concerned look, and rolled his eyes. “I gotta keep an eye on these four,” he motioned to the teens. “If a bazooka or two was going to ruffle my feathers, I would’ve been plucked and fucked a long time ago.” Gigi cackled, and the cop flushed at his inappropriate choice of words.

John was just growing all the more positive that the horrible story he was about to tell would be believed by these outsiders. The truth could replace the lie, at last. And his Reba could finally have friends. He knew she loved him, and was content with that. But a girl needed more in her life than a -probably- not far from dying old man. For what crueler fate could he imagine than dying and leaving her alone? It’s not like she was of his own blood, yet his kin she was, beyond a doubt in his heart. And that was more than enough. Adoption, marriage, even family, is all but something written upon paper. Love and acceptance is written on the soul, penned in the blood of sacrifice. The territory of God, from the ink of Christ. How could that not be enough?

Shutting her eyes, and taking a deep breath, Reba opened them to notice Feldyn looking at her. She tried to ignore him. “Do you care about my feeling at all?” the words directed at John shook him. Not her anger, he had gotten used to that over the years. It was how afraid she was.

“I’ll get food going, you sit down,” Ally said to her teacher, trying to be nice. The food stores they had in this place were impressive. There was plenty of fruit, beverages, cheeses, and the like already out now, but Ally wanted to cook. It relaxed her, and she could really use some relaxation. “No, Ally. I want you to pay attention to this.” Reba's eyes were locked with John's. He really could be an insensitive fool. Breaking eye contact, the old man quickly shuffled over to a brown leather recliner at the apparent head of the table, on the end farthest from the doors.

Standing near said doorway, Masque was torn. Part of him wanted to find where the lycanthropeire currently resides, slay it, and continue watching. To not get involved. Yet… had his decision not been made? Was this fate? If so, did such fate will him to remain here, or did it call for him to leave, his role already played?

Looking over the group as they prepared to hear the old man’s tale, Masque had to admit he was curious. And something more. He was not sure what it was, but the thought of leaving them… the thought of going back out, on his own, to watch and wait… it caused him... emotional discomfort. When he realized that, when he thought about it, he knew. He knew these people were important. That they were special.

So, without a word, Masque -awkwardly- sat at the far end of the table from John, glare strong in his eyes. His gaze was focused on no one, however. It just was. “So ye choose to continue to bless us with your presence?” Feldyn beamed at him. His glare now focused on the half-elf, who was trying not to smirk.

“I’m sorry, Reba, but I’m going to go crazy if I don’t ask,” with a deep breath Ally looked to Masque. “You aren’t human, right? You're a... demon?”

“I am,” Masque confirmed, turning to look at her. When he didn’t volunteer more, “What kind are you then? I mean, there's more than one type, right?” she asked. He looked at her for a moment, but still did not speak. Everyone was silent, eager and curious. Even Reba didn’t mind. She wanted to get her tale out of the way, but she also wanted to know just what type of demon shared their table. “Are you going tell me?” Ally pushed. “No,” Masque answered in a deep voice.

“Oh c’mon, don’t be that way,” Ally playfully lectured. “I’m Ally,” she introduced. “Allyssia Nanastasia Thompson.” Caleb was shocked. Ally never used her full name. She hated it. Her first name was pretty, as was her middle name. Tons of chances for cute nicknames in there too. Her problem was with her last name. For one, it was just so very boring in comparison. Another problem were the initials. Growing up in public school as a skinny blonde, with the initials A.N.T. just wasn’t cool.

Masque made no move to respond to her, so Feldyn, who was sitting next to Caleb and Pazely, leaned over and grabbed an apple from the table. “He’s vamp’yiour’ae.” Feldyn took a bite. “A vampire.” From the black-garbed man’s reinvigorated glare of doom, Feldyn saw his guess had been correct. He had been guessing, after all. Not that he had much knowledge of demonology, it was simply the only being of demonic origin he could think of that resided full time outside of Hell.

Everyone was silent. Masque had had no intention of revealing what he was. The stereotypes and ridiculous lore and myth about his demonic blood were so asinine that he didn’t even want to hear such things spoken.

“Well, okay then,” Ally finally said, wide-eyed. Why the fuck not, right? Elves, magic, other worlds, demons. Vampires were a bit of a boring cliché these days anyway. She was actually hoping for something cool. Like a fallen angel that turned back to God, and resided in a mortal body a punishment.

Aside from a few curious glances, and an annoying wink from the elf, the others accepted his truth as well. Not even a single question. This time, the expression on the vampire’s face was one of pure disbelief. Not that his face could be seen.

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Bryan, the only one appearing irritated, got up silently to retrieve some trays of food (cheese, fruits, and breads) that Ally had put together and left on the counter. He knew he was being punished for his little outburst earlier, and didn’t care. He should have kept his mouth shut. So what if the half-elf was a fool, teaching nonsense? Bryan had to listen to teachers do it all day long in school, and that never bothered him. Why should this?

Snacks set out, and drinks passed around, the confused group waited for an explanation that wouldn’t answer most of their questions. That is the way it generally works, is it not?

“I used to be a member of an organization,” John started with no warning, Reba seated to his right. He needed to not think about there being a vampire, a Christian vampire, seated at the other end of his table. “It has no official name, because they technically do not exist; therefore unofficially dubbed the Order.”

“Like the Mafia?” Pazely and Gigi asked in unison. Neither seemed thrilled, as both started screaming jinx at each other from across the table, with Caleb and Ally doing their respective part on their own sides to keep the two girls from starting a food fight.

Ignoring the Mafia comment, figuring it already lost to them by now in their random, noisy argument, John moved along with his tale. Raising his voice to a near shout, “The Order exists to keep tabs on the currupsin, mystics, and the seals. Just because God locked them away and said not to open the seals, did not mean man would listen. No one ever listens. Nor ever is anything simple as history would have us believe.” He lowered his voice now, as the girls argument abated when speaking over them.

“When I was a very young man, I was recruited by the Vatican to join this Order. Yes, the Vatican. No, the Catholic Church is not a secret, world-dominating organization. It just happened to be where the bulk of the Order was at that time. And to my knowledge, still is. The Order consider themselves the first true religion of God, so hiding amongst religious communities is easy.

“As I said, they were mostly working out of the Vatican at the time. I had a… complicated life, and caught their eye in my youth. They recruited me to be a reclaimer.” John took a large nervous gulp of coffee he hadn’t noticed Reba refill, and it burnt like hell, though he swallowed it casually, accepting any blisters. They were deserved. “A reclaimer finds and returns things to the Order. They are infiltration experts. Stealth ops.” He felt about as stealthy as a garbage truck at the moment, with his scalded mouth and throat. “After a few missions, they decided to promote me, for I was a bit… special.

“I had always had an uncanny luck and ability to fight. Supernaturally so. After being exposed to Catholicism, my curiosity to understand myself led me to secretly begin talking to God at night in prayers. I became good friends with a nun, who eventually led me to Christ” John did his best to not make eye contact with Reba. He had every intent of telling his past in detail. Only when he began to speak did he realize he could not, instead, he lied without hesitation or drop of sweat. What a hypocrite he was!

Taking a moment to clear his throat, John couldn't remember what details he had given. "If I had not said, what made me so special was I had innate psionic abilities. What you would probably call a psychic. No, Pazely, I cannot read minds. I can... forcefully effect things with my mind, for lack of a better description. Quite potently, I might add.

“This ability sped me to an early promotion. They were to make me a priest. Not an actual Christian priest, but the highest rank of special operational soldier you could achieve in the Order. Ironically enough, that promotion and training led me to discover another gift. God extended to me the gift of weaving white magic.

“White magic come from God himself, powered by the Spirit and guarded by the Son, Through the caster, it channels, manifesting in reality. Generally speaking, it tends to... not be a good idea. I have myself seen Christian men, and even Christian priests, explode when attempting white magic. I, however… uh, a murderer," he managed to choke out, ", a horrible, terrible man, yet God saw fit to bless me, of all people, with white magic.”

So that was why. Masque had wondered why the Mark of a Priest was so obvious on the old man’s soul, yet he denied being one. However... did John understand that the priesthood was etched onto his soul? That the mark plus white magic almost certainly makes him a Levite? Or... No. More likely he did not know at all, and had assumed Masque referred to his once title of priest within the Order.

“But the point of this tale, I suppose, is why I left the Order.” John was leaving out huge pieces of history, that made him feel like he was blatantly lying to them. The guilt you feel at hiding a secret from a friend, should be no lesser if the friend comes before or after the secret. If it is bad enough to feel guilt, then guilt you will always have. For the judgment from those we care about, hurts far worse than the crime. He would tell them all of himself one day. If Feldyn was right... these new people in his life were not simply passing through. And they would one day know the monster that slept within.

“A mission came up. One that needed their best. At that time, I was their best. The mission was to retrieve an ancient relic, and kill the one who possessed it. That relic was the Philosopher’s Stone.” Pazely laughed, “Seriously? Get real! That sounds so…” she trailed off as she noticed the look on Reba’s face. Was she… crying?

John didn’t feel that reprimanding the girl was needed; her expression showed she understood he was quite serious.“The target in possession of the stone, was hailed as the greatest alchemist to ever live. He was known by many names. At the time, his name was Ted. Ted the Alchemist.” No one laughed this time. Reba’s silent grief had stolen the mirth from the environment.

“Deep in a foggy mountain range, I found his place of dwelling. The… the complex was not what was anticipated. Huge. Dark and dreary, like a cave, with stone floors and walls. Or maybe a tomb?” John was obviously rattled, as he tried to keep from babbling. “In all my years of experience and training… I had, um… never seen anything, had uh… never… I was not prepared for what I found.” Reba reached over and set her hand on his, and handed him the box of tissues she had been using. “Pardon me,” John said, and blew his nose a couple times. Everyone was respectfully quiet while he composed himself.

“What I found,” John was still wiping his nose from the last blow while he spoke “was a scene from Hell. There were failed… experiments, everywhere. Mutilated corpses of both human and animal strewn about… I saw no sign of Ted, or anything living, and searched deeper, until stumbling into his trap. Ted had not been just experimenting, that fool had learned to successfully animate flesh without magic! Hundreds of alchemically animated zombies behind me, and in corridors and rooms, in every direction!” The memory made the old man visibly angry. The kids (and Stryker) were still registering the word ‘zombie’.

“Ted had assumed they would kill me. He did not know who I was, apparently. It did, however, force me deeper into his complex than either of us had intended. And that is where I found the true hellscape. A dungeon. Not a single source of light existed down within, save what I carried. Without going far, I soon located a... torture chamber, full of mangled corpses and body parts. And quickly realized… every single one… was the same girl. They all looked identical!

“I panicked. It was different than with the zombies. This- that place… terrified me. I began to destroy it all, everything, anything, I wanted it gone, reduced to rubble, to ashes; when I discovered one of the girls was still alive! She begged me to save them. Her children. The poor girl kept repeating he was deleting the current batch. I had no idea what she was going on about, but I could not ignore her pleas.

“She was injured badly, but still able to walk, so I took her with me, being guided to where it was insisted my help was needed. Deeper into the dungeon, we located Ted… Amidst piles of naked young girls, corpses, that looked identical to the one at my side. Only… younger.

One died right as we entered, eyes gouged out, choking on her own blood.” John paused for almost a minute before continuing, “I barely got him off of and away from the only survivor. I… I fought him as hard as I could!” His voice broke, “I, we.. h-h-he would have killed them both! Somehow he could alter his own body, probably using alchemy. There was no fear as he ignored me, focusing his full assault on... I-I had to get them out!” He was struggling to speak through the sobs. Had he ever cried like this in front of stranger? Or at all? What was happening to him? “But I c-couldn’t save the first one! My God, I tried! I tried so hard to get them both out! But her last request, her last w-w-words-” John was crying so hard now he had to stop speaking.

“Save my Reba,” Reba concluded for him with a smile, looking to the group, her own eyes moist with tears. “My… mother, who looked just like me and all the rest of us; with her last words named and saved me. None of us had ever been named. Or met one another. We just sat alone in the darkness until he would take us. And she, my mother… was smiling in that last moment. Just like I always would, alone in the dark. It looked how it always felt to me, weak and afraid. And so very stubborn. She named me with that smile… and she died with that smile.” Reba was smiling that stubborn smile, as she too began to cry, albeit softly, turning her face away from them.

The moment had most of them tearing up, if not crying themselves. Most. Stryker just felt awkward, and Masque had his eyes closed, still as a statue.

Gigi climbed on the table. She didn’t know why exactly, or care, that everyone was sad, but she knew Reba’s mom died. Ted killed her! And John saved Miss Reba! What else was there to understand? Oh - there were zombies too! They lived, the others didn't, oh well, sounded cool! Running to the head of the table, she stopped in front of Reba and John. “Gigi is sorry Miss Reba, that your mom died. Gigi is sorry you’re sad cause you couldn’t save her, Moses.” Despite himself, “I’m not Moses!” John snapped, eliciting a laugh from his daughter, which quickly infected the old man as well.

Gigi was satisfied that her mission was a success! She, the hero, made the dumb adults smile! Giving a goofy, earnest grin (she did like miss Reba, and John had gave her money!), the kid returned to where she sat near Ally.

“He took me back to the Vatican,” Reba continued the tale for John. He didn’t object. “They were quite nice to me, to his surprise. Because, at that time, he did not know who I was. I didn’t either, actually.” She sighed once, sharp and short. “Ted had been trying to create the Philosopher’s Stone… by breeding it.” Reba was dreading this part. Time to become a freak!

“Ted had found a way to basically put his knowledge into another organic being. Then by… breeding with us, and through mass cloning, and alchemy, he would produce a smarter offspring, that grew upon the knowledge placed in the mother; the one before… Sometimes, anyway. It wasn’t exactly a perfect science. He killed and experimented on hundreds, maybe thousands…”

“I seriously hate to interrupt…” Feldyn had to raise his hand, and tried his best to look sheepish. “You said he made you? All of you?” Feldyn was hoping she got what he was asking, without him needing to use the word ‘what’ in asking, well, what she was. Luckily for him, she did. “I’m a homunculus. Or at least a clone of one,” Reba said, in one expressionless breath. “A what?” Stryker asked, and got a fork thrown at him by Ally. “I’m an artificial, man-made life form,” Reba elaborated, looking at Stryker, then added, “More or less.” Stryker looked puzzled, “… Mechanical or biological?” Reba couldn't help the withering stare she replied with.

“She was made with alchemy, Stryker,” Bryan sighed, rescuing the man. “She should be more or less like us though.” Bryan still found all of this retarded, but he understood what a homunculus was. And provided this wasn’t some very late April Fool’s joke, his dance teacher was saying she was of artificial flesh and blood, created and given life through alchemy. Quite the blasphemous concept. Yet, new understandings in science normally were.

Everyone more or less nodded at Bryan’s words, and Reba felt like her heart had stopped. Wait… they just accepted it? Like that? No telling me I’m crazy or a freak? Did they really accept her words, or were they just being kind? Was it because of whatever happened to them? Part of their weird behavior?

Thinking face a bit too intense, Stryker nodded his head a few times. Gigi looked at Ally, trying to mimic Stryker’s expression, and Ally laughed, causing coffee to shoot out of her nose. This coffee was bad enough on her poor, refined palate; she didn’t need it in her nose too! Setting the horrible mug of coffee down, she reached for some nearby tissues, as Pazely joined in Gigi’s laughter. Even Bryan's grumpy butt was trying not to laugh.

Waiting until everyone was ready, John took back the telling, and promptly realized he didn’t remember where they had left off. With a reminder from his daughter, and some snickers, "I did not forget, I simply got off track, with all the interruptions," he huffled. "Upon returning to the Vatican, I was shocked at their response to her. I feared they would hold her as a blasphemy, and have her killed. I had been planning our escape the entire journey back. Instead, they were kind, taught her, treated her like royalty.

“I did not trust them for a second! And my mistrust was quickly proven to be warranted. You see, Ted had long succeeded in his experiment. The Philosopher’s Stone perfected, and he was not even aware! Somehow, that girl kept the knowledge hidden within herself, passing it along in her... children. Until that knowledge become more. Essentially, Reba here is not just a homunculus with the knowledge of the Stone… she is the Philosopher’s Stone itself!” John said that like the proudest dad in the world, announcing his daughter’s greatest achievement!

“It’s not that special,” Reba blushed furiously. “All my sisters were probably the same. I’m just the one that lived.” Stryker was confused as fuck. So she’s made out of rock? Obviously he knew she wasn't, but seriously, what the hell? The cop was relieved when Feldyn rose his hand.

“Pardon my continued ignorance, but on my world, the Philosopher’s Stone is a literal, well, stone.” He had tried to figure out what their meaning, but alas, he was lost! Once again, was Bryan that answered. “The Philosopher’s Stone is a concept. An idea, a meaning, not a literal object. It is basically the knowledge of what all matter breaks down into. Knowing how to take somehting, and break it down to its core components, then rebuilding it into something else. Turning lead into gold, as it were.” So this boy never had anything to contribute but snide comments, and random info about obscure myths? Good to know.

“Thank you, Bryan.” Reba was trying not to groan. Being spoken of like that, was a bit awkward. “And yes, I can turn lead into gold. It’s so ridiculously easy, I’m not sure why no one has figured it out.” Now she looked self-satisfied. “But I’m not anything special, really. I just… understand things. And, for the record, everything doesn't break down into one core substance. Well... I guess technically it can...”

“Do you have any special… powers?” Pazely asked, impishly looking at her hands, as if the question horribly embarrassed her. “Not exactly," Reba answered, unconvincingly, before adding, "I guess I'm sometimes stronger than I should be, and heal pretty easy." She wasn't sure if that counted. Reba never saw herself as having powers, more like oddities and weirdness. "And I can’t seem to get any older than I look right now. We only stay in an area for a few years, so people don't realize I’m not aging. Didn’t any of you guys notice I’ve looked the exact same since you've known me?” Their look said they didn’t. Wow, they could be a collectively dense bunch. She decided to let it slide, as she tried to think what else about her was different, that may or may not count.

“My hair grows weird..." she said out loud without meaning too. Now that was a topic she had no intention of sharing in mixed company! Panicking a bit, trying to stay on topic while both avoiding it, "If I cut it, it grows back in a day or two. Itches like crazy. And for some reason, I don’t seem to grow body hair,” she admitted all of that in one breath; matter of fact and kind of smug in the delivery. It was all panic, embarrassing herself with one topic to avoid the shame of another. She did not blush.

The admission made Ally want to strangle her. “That is so not fair!” she bitched. Not needing to shave, ever?! A lifetime of wondrous smoothness, and not stubbly and prickly? No razor burn, itching, red marks or bumps? That sounded like a pretty amazing superpower to her!

“Ally shaves more than her legs,” Gigi informed the group. Ally tried to look casual. “Eeeeeeeeverywhere,” Geeg stressed, obviously trying to embarrass her cousin. Ally finally blushed a little, as she sipped some coffee. “Her girl parts-” Gigi finally got smacked upside the head by the fiercely blushing blonde. She wasn’t playing either, that had really hurt!

Feldyn laughed at the exchange. He was a worldly bard, and knew human girls sprouted annoying hair all about. The taboo of such a topic, was generally a human phenomenon; other races allowed hair to grow, or not, out of choice, not some bizarre moral or social implication. Take dwarves, they just preferred to be hairy beasts, although there was no shame for those who chose not to be.

The half-elf vividly recalled a dwarven female exotic dancer, who had shaved all traces of hair from her entire body, head to toe. That was an image he wished would permanently leave his mind.

The odd glances he got from Stryker and John caused him wonder if they could read his mind, and were sharing in the horrors of Butinda the Polished...

John, gripping his staff tight enough his knuckles hurt, continued the story through gritted teeth. Reba noticed immediately, shooting him a fearful, yet warning, glance. He was fine, and in control, so ignored her, continuing to speak, “I feared what they would do with her, and like my concerns before, my fears were soon justified. One evening I heard talk they were to try and extract the knowledge in her mind, the process of which would have likely resulted in her death. I knew then that we had to leave. To escape.

"In the years that followed, I taught and trained her in all that I knew, and could. The Order pursued us with a dogged persistence for quite some time, though it eventually grew lax. Probably due to the passing of their last leader. His grandson inherited the rule, and doesn’t seem to care as much about the two of us as the old hierarchy did. Or perhaps he fears us, growing up on tales of our exploits.” John resisted the urge to go ‘mua ha ha!‘ for he felt it would be a bit too corny. “In any case, we continued doing what we do best, moving from place to place, hunting down monsters and other such threats.”

“You guys are… monster hunters?” Pazely asked. “I guess,” Reba answered her, and John nodded with a doofy grin on his face. “Cool,” Pazely squeaked. Everyone basically agreed. Masque was still sitting stationary. He so rarely moved, it was easy to forget he was there; motionless and lifeless.

“There is one last thing of importance,” John added, as the group was falling to chitchat. “We took many things with us when we fled. One I think our good elven friend here would find most interesting.” John got up and went over to a filing cabinet behind where he sat. After a moment, he found what he was looking for. Walking back to the table, he tossed a thick folder to Feldyn. “It is just a portion, but I am going to go out on a limb and say you have yet to translate this.” John remained standing, but took his staff that was leaning against his chair.

Opening the folder, and reading the pages within, Feldyn didn't know what to feel. The wording... this read like the Codex. Why would the Codex be on Earth? The holy bible coming to Aethra made sense, but this? Was it because the Dragonheart was here? Without looking up from the pages, “Are you one hundred percent sure of the accuracy of these translations?” Feldyn didn't want the old man to see his doubt, so he did his best to feign amazement. Even if this was the Codex, Feldyn himself did not know enough to confirm. His invisible friend, however... John laughed. “I better be. I re-translated a good deal of it myself.”

Authentic or not, the half-elf was impressed, and finally took his eyes away from the pages. “How many languages?”

“Four. I speak five, so it was not much of a challenge, to be quite honest. This is only what I could translate from the small amount I took when we fled.”

Only four languages?! This much from just four bloody Earth languages?! Feldyn could only hope this was authentic!

Looking at his wristwatch, Stryker got up from the table. “I need to check back in. Radios and cells don’t work for shit down here.”

“Oh yeah," Stryker remembered, "and don’t worry… I already talked to your parents,” he told the kids, who all seemed to realize at once that their parents were going to murder them. “Don’t make that face, I said I talked to them already! They think you are helping me at a relief shelter set up outside of town. That you were all needing some time to... process what happened."

In any other circumstance, that would make no sense after a death of someone so close and in such a way. It didn't make much sense, now. Stryker knew their families, and the only ones effected by what happened to Jessie would be Ally's. And they would just be happy their daughter was out of their hair, while they handled the situation; however pieces of shit like them did.

Stryker tried not to clench a fist. To not show emotion. To not upset to kids. Hell, to not upset himself. There wasn't... time. There was never time. You sucked it up, thought of the here and now, whatever left that was good, and kept moving.

He was the one to retrieve Jessie's body. He was the one that made the phone call to have her parents notified. He was the one to look Mister and Misses Thompson in the eye and see their feigned emotions. He was the one to hold a sobbing Sally in his arms, and lie to her about why her cousins and friends weren't there, and why she couldn't be brought to them.

"School’s closed from the last storming too; bought you all a few days, at least,” he concluded. Pazely walked to the end of the table, near the door where Stryker stood, and gave him a hug. Ally was about to join in, when Masque turned around in the seat next to them and started to speak.

Both Stryker and Pazely screamed bloody murder.

The burly vampire did not look amused, the two screamers holding their chests and panting. “Shit, man, don’t do that! I could have shot you!” Stryker lectured, as he readjusted his uniform collar. “That would have served only to irritate me more,” Masque deadpanned. “You are around people now, Mr. Silent,” Ally informed him. She had been shit-startled herself when he spoke, let alone moved. “The way you just don't move at all, for so long, we… You know.” He did not appear to know. “It's easy to forget you are there,” Caleb explained for her.

'They… forget I am here?' Turning to look at Caleb, “Am I… truly so forgettable?” Masque’s voice honestly sounded hurt. “You are just too good at being unseen, my new friend,” Feldyn took the time to look up from his reading. “That is all. With some practice, it will come to you, if you so choose. Or they will grow used to your presence enough, to expect you to be there when they look for you, only then noticing you are gone, and miss you, truly and profoundly.” Masque glowered, “I will kill you, elf.”

“Miss Reba, can I take a nap, please?” Gigi asked with a big yawn. Caleb had to admit, a hot shower, getting into clean clothes, and a deep, long sleep, sounded amazing. He stood up and stretched, “Sleep sounds good to me too. Guess I ate too much already…” There had been so much fruit, cheese, drinks, and snacks; he was stuffed. “You can have my room from last night. Hardly used it, and I ain’t gonna be needing it,” Stryker said to Caleb, as the boy walked over to Pazely and lifted her in a princess carry.

Looking startled, “T-t-the fuck are you doing?” Paze stammered. Caleb blinked at her, cradled in his arms. “I just thought… well, I mean, it’s been a long time and you slept by me last night…” The way people were looking at him, he felt confused and embarrassed. Pazely always slept near him when they were together. He was so used to it, that this past year she had been gone he-

… Oh yeah. She had been back a while, hadn’t she? Though he didn’t remember the entire summer… more, actually. And now he had a girlfriend… He was guessing that sleeping next to, or even in the same room with, another girl was a no-no.

“Uh… yeah, sorry. I keep forgetting I forgot.” Caleb started to set her back down. “NO!” Pazely screamed so loud that he almost dropped her. “I mean no, i-i-it’s o-o-okay you forgot! I won’t tell, promise!” Pazely felt like she was going into heart failure. Holy crap, she was happy he forgot! Whatever had made him so weird these last months, it was like she finally had Caleb back!

Caleb was looking at her while she stared back intensely. “So… you do want to take a nap with me?” he asked, and she kept staring, now turning red. “Shower," Pazely said, not breaking eye contact. Well, that would explain why she was blushing. “You… want me to shower with you?” Caleb was seriously confused, and he wasn’t even hearing voices currently. Pazely made so many expressions and gasping sounds, he thought she might be dying.

“If I may?” Ally volunteered from nearby. “I believe she is saying she wants to take a shower first. And by her reaction, I would say she definitely wants to sleep with you.” The use of words went over Pazely and Caleb’s heads completely. Pazely was cursing the interloper for ruining what may have been the best shower of her freaking life! “Oh,” the clueless teenage male grinned. He guessed he should bathe as well.

The cop turned to head out the door. “C’mon, I’ll show ya. The shower in there is tricky,” Stryker said, leaving the room, with Caleb following, a hyperventilating Pazely still in his arms. “I’ll take Gigi to bed,” Reba told the room. “And Bryan will do the dishes!” she informed the boy without looking back, as she led the yawning sleepy child from the room. Bryan didn’t mind the chores. He needed time to think. Ally too left to go shower.

“You do not find the behavior of these children… Odd?” John asked Feldyn, ignoring Bryan was still in the room. “Perhaps even a tad… immoral?” Looking up from the documents he read, Feldyn was puzzled at the mans words. “No… why? Did I miss something?”

As John was struggling with his own inner demons, Masque stood up and both mortal men at the table jumped. “I am going to search the area for signs of the lycanthropeire,” he stated, startling Bryan when he heard the voice behind him. At least he didn’t scream. “I’ll try to return loudly."

* * *

'Ah, that felt amazing!' Ally thought to herself as she walked out of the tiny shower attached to her room. She was naked, save for the small towel she was drying her hair with. The feel of the air on her bare skin always felt refreshing to her. Like a form of clarity, helping to focus her mind and feelings.

Letting the small towel drape over the sides of her head, she turned and walked the few feet to look in the dresser next to the bathroom door. What the hell was with Reba and her freaky, kinky underwear? Ally wondered, as she peered into a drawer of the... exotic. Taking out the most normal-looking pair -bright pink panties- she returned to the bed. Tossing the towel to the side, her thoughts went back to current events.

With the irritation of needing to even think about all the stupid, and lies, and horrible, Ally stepped into the tiny panties she took from the dresser, and pulled them up to the worst wedgie sensation of her life. No way in hell these fit Reba. Deciding she would rather be naked, Ally tossed them in a corner, then froze facing the bed. It dawned on her that she had probably advertised those ridiculous black panties to Feldyn earlier. Was it not bad enough she had cried in front of him?! Did she have to give him a free show too?!

“Jeeeeez, what’s with the creepy power-clenching?” Pazely asked from behind her. She had entered the small room unheard by the distracted and irritated teen. Ally had apparently been clenching her butt cheeks as well as her fists, in anger. The sound of Pazely’s voice made her feel terribly exposed. Which she sorta was…

Grinning wickedly, Ally turned to Pazely, both arms to the side in a large shrug, before relaxing. This was the first time Pazely had gotten such a blatant full frontal of her friend. Sure, they had changed around each other, even showered, but was always facing away. Sure, Paze had been curious, and stolen a glance. Nothing wrong with that!

“Weirdo slut!” Paze snipped, determined to not be flustered this time. This was just a new tactic for Ally to terrorize her with! So what if Ally had a nice looking body! She liked to look at herself too! Probably more than she should, but that wasn't the point! “I need to hurry, you bathed for-freaking-ever!” the smaller girl whined. “Caleb is finally acting normal again, and wants me to spend time with him, and you're messing everything up, like usual!"

Rolling her eyes to cover the sting of negative emotions, Ally fell backwards onto the bed, and motioned to the bathroom. With a triumphant squeak, she heard Paze close the door, water running soon after.

Ally, not thinking, embracing the numbness, ending up laying on her stomach, legs half off the side of the single bed.

The bathroom door opened. Either Pazely was seriously rushing, or Ally had dozed off. “Ugh, why are you still naked?” Paze groaned, holding a towel in front of herself; Ally leaning up to look over her shoulder.

And Ally had an evil, naughty idea. If she couldn't have fun, knowing Pazely was...

“Isn’t Caleb waiting?” Ally purred, as she rolled over and slunk like a cat from the bed. “Or did you really want to stay here with me?” Her purr became a growl as she suddenly closed the distance to Pazely. Before the younger girl could react, Ally embraced her, hands lifting up the back of her towel for a good squeeze.

The scream from Pazely turned into a wail as she fled the room.

And with that, Ally locked the door and tossed the towel she had taken from Pazely, over by the discarded pink underwear, and her own towel.

Knowing Pazely was now good and nude in Caleb’s room ('with a screaming announcement,' Ally giggled to herself), and everyone else basically safe, Ally’s mind took that moment to decide to let the weight of Jessie’s death fully hit her.

She muffled her screaming wails of anguish with a pillow, and when the screams died down, the sobs took over.

Ally cried herself to sleep.