42. Brush With the Graveyard

Isaac sighed in relief when he finally felt the familiar plastic subway seats beneath him. The aftereffects of decorating cakes at 2x speed were catching up to him, it seemed. That, and speaking to Minerva was draining in it of itself, though in a decidedly different way than speaking to someone like, say, Fable or Casimir. Speaking of which, he should probably figure out where the angel was and go ask him if he would barrier the venue.

His mind drifted back to what Minerva had said, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit curious. ‘Pitiful’ was about the last word he would ever associate with Casimir. Still, at the same time, he remembered the last time he’d spoken to the angel and his insistence on remaining separate from Underside affairs. It really wasn’t his place to ask, was it?

Besides, pity was an emotion Isaac wasn’t particularly interested in. Even at a young age, he’d always hated the term.

People used to pity him, back in the day, when he was still sufficiently young enough for his temper and attitude to be overlooked. His teachers used to call him a product of his environment; they liked to give him speeches about “overcoming” in life, and they always, always used his brother as the positive example to strive towards.

The thing about pity was that it was built on a fragile foundation. Those people had expressed it because it was seen as the morally correct thing to do, and once Isaac had grown older and his acting out could no longer be associated with the inherent innocence afforded to small children, any supposed understanding was snatched away faster than it had ever been granted.

Isaac settled back into the seats, and his eyes drifted shut as he listened to the familiar rumble of the subway train passing through the curving tunnels.

The 108th Street apartment residents were a cold and unfriendly bunch, and he was pretty sure none of them would react if a neighbor was set on fire as long as it didn’t affect them personally, but one thing he’d always appreciated about his fellow residents was that, after the car accident, not one of them had ever looked at him with pity. There had been disbelief and surprise, sure, and maybe even some blame, but that was better than the alternative. That was what he told himself, anyway.

Isaac’s eyes open just in time for the train to lurch to a stop. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn. He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, he realized, or what train line he was on. He cursed under his breath, berating himself for losing focus so easily. He stood to exit the train, if not just to confirm where he was so he could get onto the right train line.

Isaac stepped onto the platform and looked around for any identifiers, namely if there were any other creatures present. The subway stations themselves were almost identical, an eerily similar recreation of the Chrowall City stations, with their cement pillars and worn, dull colors. Isaac was, unfortunately, the only one around, so he’d have to actually exit the place to figure out what realm this was.

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It was easy enough to navigate his way out of the station, and after climbing the signature subway stairs, he came face to face with the station exit and paused.

In front of him, framed by the cement station edges, a rocky desert extended far into the horizon. Sharp distant cliffs formed a jagged landscape, and the sky was a dusty, pale color somewhere between yellow and grey. The ground, meanwhile, was a pure grey desert, not a trace of color in sight. A few scraggly, leafless trees dotted the land, barely managing to sprout from the hard earth and solid stones, but for the most part the place was largely empty. A soft breeze kicked up perpetual clouds of dust that cast the entire area in a blurred haze.

The Graveyard. He’d unconsciously wandered onto the goddamn grey line, of all things. Was this some kind of Freudian slip? Isaac shook his head and pulled out his tablet map to search for Casimir. There was no reason to stay out here, and he had no interest in leaving the station if he didn’t have to, either. There was a reason he rarely came here, and he’d like it to stay that way.

As he clicked through various realm maps, searching for the angel’s name, he kept glancing up, as though expecting some undead creature to suddenly appear by the cliff faces or from below the hard ground. None ever did. The landscape remained unnervingly quiet.

Mortimer had once told him that most of the undead creatures lived further into the realm and purposely stayed far away from the station. “Undead don’t like to be near the living,” he’d explained.

“Full undead, I’m guessing you mean,” Isaac had said. Mortimer had just given him one of those deadpan looks of his and said, “Probably.”

Casimir, as it turned out, was actually in Paradise for once, go figure. Isaac had gotten so used to seeing the angel everywhere else that sometimes he forgot he was actually from the blue line.

Isaac hummed in thought. He probably wouldn’t be allowed inside the realm proper, as usual, but he could wait by the gates. He’d done that before, and Casimir was usually close to the entrance, as he claimed to be some sort of guard. Well, if he was a guard, he was pretty terrible at his job considering he was away from the realm 90% of the time. Being jobless would unironically be better in his case.

New direction in mind, Isaac shut the tablet screen off and slid it under his arm. As he turned away to head back to the station platform, he gave the Graveyard a final glance, but it was as still and lifeless as ever. Sometimes, when he let his mind drift and wander, he wondered if the Graveyard was really only for Underside inhabitants, or if he should expect to find an undead version of Lloyd somewhere deep within those rugged cliffs.

He hoped not. He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of eternity in a place like this, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone else, either.

That, and a small, hidden part of him didn’t know if he could confront his brother in a place as tangible as this one.

(The answer was no, but he staunchly shoved that thought down. No use in wasting time obsessing over shit that wasn’t even real.)

Destination decided, Isaac turned away and strode back into the station in long, quick steps, leaving the Graveyard a barren grey landscape behind him.