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Tur Briste
159 - Baby

159 - Baby

With a friend beside you, life’s troubles are passing moments, preparing themselves for future reminiscing.

~Goibniu, The God of the Forge and Brew

The man had died, and the ghosts destroyed his spirit before he could cross over. After the man died, the ghosts circled Crow before placing a fist on their chest and bowing. Seconds later, they faded away, leaving him alone in the creepy cabin with a nameless corpse.

Ghosts and spirits remained on the island, but those that came to attack the man moved on. Crow felt those people were powerful cultivators who hadn’t completely lost themselves. He wasn’t sure if the candle or the mask freed them, but the other spirits on the island remained. They were the restless dead—lost souls that lacked intelligence and acted on an instinctual level. They couldn’t even be compared to animals.

Crow almost lost his mind when the corpse twitched, and a remnant of its soul tried to escape. His Ghostly Aura was still active, and it sucked the soul remnant into Crow’s Soulscape. The aura actually activated another one of his abilities, which he hated using—Faces of the Dead.

Entering his Soulscape to see what was happening, he saw the man heading toward where Crow built the cave home. While he watched, the remnant cleaned up the area. Scraped away gravel and debris, shaped the land using his bare hands, and did menial chores. It was like his Soulscape gained a ghost butler.

“Who are you?”

“Jude, boss.”

“Boss?”

“I dunno. I’m compelled to call you boss.”

“What are you?”

“I was Jude, but since you killed me, I’m yours until you release me, boss.”

“But… how?”

“I don’t know. I’m a soul fragment, and those foul ghosts destroyed most of my memories. Here, take my hand. Since you can take my face, body, and aura, as long as you capture the souls of those you killed, you can take their memories too.”

Crow hesitated but gripped Jude’s hand, anyway. It was like looking at a kaleidoscope of Jude’s life. Some memories were hazy or indistinct, others were sharp, and there were significant gaps in between. The blurred memories were something Crow felt he could peek into but thought they were important to Jude—personal. Not sure why he showed the man any consideration, he decided not to intrude.

Having access to this kind of information, assuming Jude’s identity was even easier—provided his soul was whole. Some of those gaps didn’t have that discordant feeling of being forcibly removed. Crow was no dummy, and some of the missing memories felt like they were surgically removed. Not one memory of the Bone Mask of the Baron or Baron Samedi existed in this man’s soul.

“Before you ask, in this place, I cannot hide my memories from you. You know what I know.”

Crow figured as much, so he didn’t bother questioning him about that.

“Why are you cleaning?”

“Compulsion. I have an urge to work and do menial chores. I think… I am meant to do this as a form of redemption.”

“That’s just fucking weird.”

“It’s your Soulscape,” Jude replied in exasperation while giving Crow a strange look. “Speaking of… how did someone as weak as you form a Soulscape already? And how did you defeat me?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Who knows? I’m unfated, so sometimes it’s easier to just accept strange shit happens around me.”

“Unfated…?” Jude mumbled and went back to cleaning.

“If you are supposed to… do stuff, then use stones and build me a big courtyard over there where that circular pool of water is. Make it like a fountain or something,” Crow ordered. No use thinking too heavily about why ghosts were appearing in his Soulscape to do labor work, so he might as well use them.

“Yes, boss!” Jude said and hating himself for how excited and happy he felt doing things for his boss. What sort of fucking hell am I in?

Chuckling to himself, Crow went back to the real world but wished he hadn’t. While accessing Jude’s memories, his body had started to transform. Crow’s face twisted as the bones beneath his flesh twisted and popped. He hunched over as his spine, hips, and legs readjusted. The process wasn’t painful, but it was very uncomfortable. Once the changes were completed, he vomited blood, which he hadn’t done before. It was the trauma caused by the change.

Crow wasn’t sure about all the upgrades Faces of the Dead had received, but three things stood out. The transformation was no longer an illusion but real. It was a physical change which meant wards against illusions would not work. Jude’s presence was there when he transformed, and all his memories were easily accessible. Lastly, personality compulsions existed within this form. The body wanted to do things that Crow would normally never do. Even his attitude and temperament felt off.

Nothing could describe Crow’s current revulsion to this spell. It twisted his guts, becoming someone he’d killed. The guilt and horror of what he was doing wasn’t easy for him to get over when he was in the guise of the dead.

Shuddering, he opened the cottage door and came face to face with the Wendigo.

“Fuck, go play,” Crow snapped. His comment and actions were urged on by his guise. It was the only way he could think of to get escape, which is why he didn’t immediately change back to his natural face. Crow was positive he couldn’t fight the thing. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he could flee from it.

The big leering head turned sideways as it looked at Crow. Its long fingers brushed against Crow’s face, and he almost gagged at the swamp fish smell. The Wendigo’s face came right up Crow’s, its nostrils flaring as if smelling him, and then it turned and left.

Crow was so shocked that he let out his pent-up breath, not realizing he’d been holding it in. The Wendigo was weird, and he couldn’t tell why it kept touching his face. It didn’t seem aggressive, which was the oddest part about the situation. Wendigos were very aggressive hunters, and their prey were humans.

Maybe what he’d read wasn’t the most accurate information.

While the Wendigo seemed passive, Crow felt he needed to flee this island. Not wanting to draw attention to himself or show fear, Crow walked to the dock unhurriedly. The green light from the lantern was still covering the area, but he didn’t see the Wendigo anywhere.

Putting his boat in the water, he quickly hopped on and paddled away. Looking back, he didn’t see anything pursuing him, and the Wendigo was still nowhere in sight. Once he was out on the water, he felt a strong current pushing him downriver. Rather than fight it, he thought it might lead him someplace good. It was a strange feeling going downriver but headed north. Regardless, after another hour, he left the gloomy Cursed Grove and saw actual sunlight for the first time in days.

Only then did he drop the guise. It was like this shadowy passenger in his mind had gone away, allowing his mood to shift back. The transformation sucked, and he felt like he was a snake shedding its skin. Crow breathed a sigh of relief when he was back in his own skin. Jude went back to doing whatever he was doing previously inside his Soulscape.

Half a day later, the slow-moving river he was traveling on exited the forest altogether. An open field was before him, and he could see a small town around the river’s next bend. Excited, he paddled harder, hoping for a dry inn, a whole night’s sleep, a hot meal, and a warm, soft bed. Creature comforts aren’t missed unless deprived of them for days on end.

The river bend was wide, wide enough to be a lake, and a small fishing dock jutted out from a stone pier that ran along the river bank. Paddling toward the dock, Crow saw a familiar form hulking at the end of it, lazily fishing without shoes on. It was as if the big bastard didn’t have a care in the world. Even the straw hat he wore looked like he’d just woven it from the river reeds nearby.

As if sensing Crow’s stare, the big guy looked up, and a big dopey smile spread across his face.

“Brother!” Crow shouted and jumped off the boat to hug the big giant.

“Still baby. Otto no cry.”

Crow burst out laughing. He hadn’t seen the big guy in years, and his humor was still horrible.

“Boat.” Otto pointed at Crow’s boat, which was getting away.

“Shit!” Crow shouted and dove into the river. Taking long strides to reach his boat, he heard Otto’s booming laughter behind him.