Freyja's crow eyes looked over the sweeping cityscape, wind caught under her fluttering black wings.
Incredible. I'm fucking flying! Freyja chirped happily.
Chirp? The hell was that? she thought, underwhelmed, and tried to caw again.
Another chirp, like a freshly-hatched chick, came forth from her beak.
Balls. she would have frowned if she had the facial capacity in this form.
Oh well. Her off-sounding bird call was no reason to let it spoil the view. Rolling green hills, blades of grass rippling like waves in the wind, seas of tall interlocked trees, glistening, pristine lakes and ponds, sprawling parks and recreation centers, and crowded little suburbias all passed under her shadow. She couldn't believe how small it looked from here, and how free she felt.
She bobbed high and low, circled, and dove, pulling her wings in close and leading the plunge with her beak, enhancing her aerodynamic form, then pulled up a few dozen meters from the ground, as the circle of her shadow grew larger. Regaining altitude, she pulled a barrel roll, her heart lurching with mixed adrenaline and childlike glee.
A flock of her ilk joined the formation, and the murder of crows fanned out into a synchronized v gliding across the sky.
"Hey boys, how's it going?" Freyja asked her fellow corvids.
The bookend birds at either end of the formation exchanged a glance, as if to ask each other if they recognized the newbie.
One of the crows gained a devilish glint in its eyes, as it seemed to recognize Freyja, by scent and signature. Freyja, to her horror, realized she recognized the crow too. It was the dumb bird that picked a fight with her (and won) back at the junkyard.
"Interloper." it crowed to Freyja.
"Me?" Freyja pointed to herself. She forgot that she needed her wings extended to sustain flight, pulled to the left, spun out of control, and dropped. She retook her place in the formation a few seconds later, flapping madly, heart going a mile a minute, more like a hummingbird's than a crow's.
She heard the crows snicker.
"Shut your faces!" Freyja blushed under her plumage, sideswiped the nearest heckler, and nipped his wing.
The mocking crow gave a satisfying equal of indignation, and Freyja nodded smugly to herself.
"So you've chosen death." the head of the formation cawed. They broke ranks, and swarmed the imposter.
Freyja pinballed between the taloned swipes and batting wings of the frenzied aggressors, feathers shaking and flying off in the scuffle. She didn't quite have the hang of this yet, and went rolling down again, pulling up in time to narrowly dodge a little white gift.
"How dare!" she chirped.
"Repent! Repent!" the crows chanted as they repeatedly encircled and hassled Freyja.
"Knock it off!" she chirped, the tips of her feathers glowing bright red.
The lead crow landed and stood on her back as she flew, hitching a little ride and pecking her head.
"Ow! Fuck, shit, cunt!" Freyja panicked.
"You've lost, admit defeat." the crow advised.
"Never!" Freyja pulled a loop da loop, throwing the crow off of her, and grabbed him in her talons.
The crow cawed in shock.
"Think carefully. We never forgive, and we never forget." it locked eyes with her. "You really want to declare war?"
"Kick up 30% of your bread to me and all is forgiven." Freyja offered.
The crows laughed at her feeble grandstanding.
"As if." the crow pecked her in the eye, and she lost her grip.
"Mother-!" Freyja griped, winking in pain. She shook out her eyes, sped up, and tried to lock onto the hollow-boned prick who rejected her generous diplomatic terms.
She flew into the window of a high rise, all but splatting, and cracked the glass as she flattened up against it. Her aerial trial by combat ended, she slowly slid down the window, her pride wounded worse than her… well, everything.
"S-stupid birds!" she groaned, peeling off of the window like a pancake pried from a skillet.
Her body reverted to her human form. Whether for shock, or a malign reflex, having no great proficiency at controlling other transformations and moving between them yet, it all mattered less than the fact that Freyja was now well in the air, and flightless.
"FUCK YOU!" she yelped as she fell with her back to the incoming street, face and wide, shocked eyes turned up toward her natural enemies, perched arrogantly atop the roof.
Below, a man, twitching from too much coffee slammed too quickly, already anxious about getting to work on time after his botched morning, shrieked and swerved when Freyja's body crash-landed atop his car. The frame caved in and the windshield cracked, embedding the girl in the vehicle and causing the man to lose control, running the curb and crashing over a fire hydrant. Freyja went tumbling, landing on the sidewalk, smearing it with her blood, while the man hit his head hard on the steering wheel. He blanked out a few moments, then groggily got his bearings, clutching his forehead. What happened? He burnt his toast and ran out of hot water halfway through his shower, then,
"Oh shit!" he gulped, kicked his sticky door open, and stepped out onto the street, going to the girl's side.
Freyja was out cold, blood spreading under her back.
"Oh god, oh fuck." the man looked around rapidly, then cast his gaze upward toward the tower from which the girl fell. A jumper?
"Hang in there!" he said, dialing 911, then flagging down another car as it passed and the phone rang.
-
Elsewhere, four paramedics grunted, sweating and panting as they hefted Dai Funka's stretcher. The sumo had no pity to spare, cradling his right peck, which had a circle of teeth marks around it. The little puppet bastard didn't take to being silenced under Dai Funka's girth, and had made his displeasure known.
"Thanks I get." Dai Funka rolled his eyes as he was loaded into the ambulance. Cuppy was just lucky Mason had already cleared out.
Funka and Leon alike both grimly thought that, whether all the shades in Carnival Top had been purged or not, the genie was already out of the bottle. The Institute already used up their cover story, so even if they needed to resort to mass amnesiacs, city-wide, Station Bay was going to be irrevocably changed. They both said a silent prayer that the rest of the world wasn't next.
Cuppy snuck out of the circus area under his own power, more or less, with Cuppet lending a shoulder. He finished sewing his pierced kidney and side back together, and bit the excess string off. He stood atop the slope of the abandoned tent, wind ruffling his blond hair. Luchesi's massacre was unforgivable, but punishing him would have to take a backseat to regrouping with Richie and co. Leon didn't realize that Cuppy had slipped a swap doll into the tatters of his jacket, in case he needed a quick warp to the hospital. He imagined a lot of people would be converging there, and that intake was about to get swamped. He didn't like not knowing where Freyja was, or if Richie had really had a run-in with the pajamas jerk. He took a moment to try and triage what his next move was.
-
Richie stretched out his arms and legs, then cracked out his knuckles and neck. He assumed he’d have to race back to Carnival Top, but as long as he was here, he may as well bring things 1 and 2 up to speed. Before he could step onto the porch and dramatically throw the glass door open though, Holly stole his thunder, dropping onto the lawn in full tactical gear, microwave pistol in hand and three more on her hips and waist.
“Holly?” Richie cocked his head.
“Richie?” Holly mirrored him.
“What… are you doing?” Richie asked.
“I… was going to go rescue you.” she said.
“How did you know about Luchesi?” Richie asked.
“Luchesi?” Holly raised a brow. “He finally hatched?”
“I don’t feel like we’re communicating effectively here, how about you explain first?” Richie scratched his head.
Holly grabbed Richie by the wrist and yanked him inside, tossing him on the couch and pointing at the tv. There was live news coverage of some kind of terrorist attack at Carnival Top. The reporter commenting on the footage found the transmission suddenly cut off though, before much could be made of it, or the perpetrators could be seen. What was seen were the many bodies of the wounded being carted out.
“I don’t recognize that group.” Holly paused on a clip bearing the sight of a few Black Sun personnel at their work. “They aren’t Institute. Never mind that, are the others ok?”
Richie’s eyes widened, his jaw going slack in horror. “I don’t know. Luchesi ambushed me, and I fell into the Backyard to heal up. I managed to tame it, but I didn’t know Luchesi sprang an attack already. Shit, how long was I in there for?”
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“So that was why I lost track of you.” Holly held her chin.
“Huh?” Richie asked.
“Oh, right.” Holly showed him her phone, whose screen displayed some kind of radar grid with three different blinking red dots on it. “Cuppy is still in the entertainment sector. If he were dead, the signal would drop, so he’s alive for now. That’s a relief.”
Richie poked Holly in the forehead.
“Huh?” Holly looked up.
“Explain, please.” Richie frowned.
“Oh. Well, I anticipated there’d be times when we needed to find each other, and bugging you guys in your sleep seemed easier and less risky than trying to teach Cuppy or Chikita how cell phones worked at the time. I don’t trust they’d mask their location.” Holly said, trying her best to sound reasonable.
“You what?! How? When?” Richie yelped.
“... after the manticore fight…” Holly looked away, tapping her fingers together awkwardly, looking the part of a child who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Richie continued bitching.
“Say what you will, it’s a good thing I did!” Holly huffed indignantly. “Either way, it’s just like when Chiki slipped back into the yards after I bugged her soul harvest when we first met, the signal gets lost in that place. No way to reach a tracking device across a boundary of time and space, even with my abilities. Look, your dot is still frozen downtown. That must be where Luchesi attacked you, then?” Holly pointed to the dot indicating Richie. It was blinking faster than the others, stuck to the east of where they were now. A few moments later, it immediately readjusted itself, and blinked next to Holly.
“If that’s the case, look.” Richie pointed. “Freyja isn’t there anymore.”
“You’re right.” Holly adjusted her glasses, looking at Freyja’s marker.
“What’s in that direction?” Richie asked.
“Station Bay Hospital.” Holly swallowed.
“But she’s still alive, right? You said the dots disappear if the person they represent dies?” Richie said.
“Yeah. The device senses your heartbeat.” Holly nodded. “Not only that, but I can look up your vitals. Watch.” she tapped Freyja’s icon, and pulled up a window. “Oh shit, she’s looked better.”
“If they’re still evacuating, how did she get there so soon? Never mind.” Richie tore at his hair. “Shit, where do I start? Where’s Chikita?”
Holly huffed. “Clever bitch chewed her device out of her body and ran off to go shade-hunting.”
“Damn you, ice witch! Always on me when I don’t need you, and gone when I do!” Richie barked.
“Calm down. I can call you guys via the devices.” Holly said.
Richie froze, then nodded. “Alright, let Cuppy know first. We need to gather at the hospital and set up a perimeter to protect Freyja, Luchesi’s not the type to let his prey get away.”
“What’s the plan?” Holly asked.
“There were a few passing gates to and from the Backyards when we were dicking around at the casinos, I’m going to put my new ownership to the test and try to warp to Cuppy through the yards. You just tell him to stay put and wait for me to pick him up.” Richie said.
Holly nodded. “Affirmative.”
Richie began to walk out toward the fence again, then stopped. “Holly?” he asked.
“Yes?” Holly said.
“If you’re able to call us through your no-consent tracker chips, why did you need to run out to Casino Top in person to help? Wouldn’t it have been easier to call first and confirm our status?” Richie asked.
Holly blinked a few times. “Come to think of it, yes, that would have made more sense.”
“IQ OF THREE HUNDRED MY ASS!!!” Richie barked.
“I panicked, ok!” Holly bristled defensively. “I was a lot more calm and collected at my old job. Sue me for being worried about you.”
Richie rolled his eyes and stepped at the threshold of the broken fence, drawing up the image of that tangled tunnel of ivy within it. “That aside,” Richie scratched his head, pausing and seemingly trying to come up with the right words. “Thank you for trying to rescue us.”
Holly smiled and nodded. “Don’t mention it. I won’t be able to call any of you if I’m in the yards.” she went on.
“That’s fine. After you call Cuppy, try to find Chikita. I’m counting on you.” Richie said. “When you do, meet us as soon as possible.”
“Roger.” Holly said, and dialed Cuppy as Richie passed into the corridor to his Backyard.
-
“Holly?” Cuppy looked around the open sky about the tent, trying to spot the dragonfly form Holly took last time they fought together as one. That was what happened, right? “Where are you?”
“Cuppy, listen closely - I left an implant in your body. It tracks you, monitors your vitals, and, as you can see, functions as a com device.” Holly said.
Cuppy tilted his head.
“Cup? Cup, your vitals look confused.” Holly said. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t see anything.” Cuppy said.
“What do you mean? Are your eyes injured?” Holly said, sounding worried.
“You said ‘as you can see’. I don’t see. I can hear you though.” Cuppy smiled.
Holly pinched the bridge of her nose on the other end of the line. “Glad you’re fine. Listen, Richie’s on his way to scoop you up. He figured out how to control his yard. Freyja’s headed for the hospital.”
“What happened?” Cuppy perked up.
“We’re not sure, but it’s safe to assume she’s joining the survivors. What happened there?” Holly asked.
“Pajamas jerk.” Cuppy growled.
“I was afraid you’d say that. Richie’s right, the slasher’s making his move.” Holly said.
“You think he’ll go after Freyja while she’s down?” Cuppy clarified.
“Richie does. And yeah, sounds in-character.” Holly said.
“Got it.” Cuppy grabbed one of his sewing needles and twirled it around into an icepick grip, ready to stab it into his side.
“Cuppy, what are you doing over there? Whatever you’re doing, stay put, I said Richie’s on his way.” Holly said.
“No time.” Cuppy said.
-
Leon moaned and writhed on his stretcher as the ambulance rolled over speed bumps in the hospital parking lot.
“Fuckin’ a.” he grumbled. “Driver, a little gentler, yeah?” he sassed toward the front. “Back’s killin’ me. Front’s not much better.” he tentatively felt his bandaged torso, grisly slashes hidden beneath. He felt something wriggling in the small of his back, aggravating it.
“The hell?” he put all his effort into rolling over, feeling like butcher knives were slamming themselves into the backs of his shoulder blades with the effort, and pulled a swap doll of Cuppy out from under him. “When did - never mind. Couldn’t wait to visit us the normal way, eh?” he chuckled.
Deadlight eyes locked onto the doll from beneath the stretcher. A wriggling grub of shadow expelled itself from the underside of Leon’s stretcher and lunged for the doll, snatching it.
“Gah!” Leon cringed, and immediately hurt himself, incurring a downward spiral of bitching and moaning.
The tiny shade hitchhiker sprouted grasping little taloned hands, as if tendrils of protoplasma extending from a wriggling amoeba’s main body, and turned the doll over in its hands. Those soulless eyes were fixed on something that Leon - nah, no one but Cuppet could probably see - the extremely thin, flexible thread that ran all the way from Cuppy’s doll to the real boy, linking them. As it had been in the sewer when Cuppy first unveiled this trick to escape mulching-by-leprechaun, the swap doll technique was not without limits, and was reliant on a binding thread. Just because Cuppy had managed to make that thread nigh-imperceptible and long-reaching didn’t mean that it ceased to exist, or ceased to be the fatal flaw of the swap system. This straggler, watching and analyzing while the other shades had run wild and ravenous, now knew the weakness.
Without another sound, it slashed the thread, severing the connection.
-
Cuppy stabbed himself between the ribs with his sewing needle, and a few moments later when he was not warped to the ambulance with Leon, and blood had begun to soak through his cloak, he blinked.
“Ow.” he said. “Guess one of the little tykes figured it out. Fiddlesticks.”
Cuppet made panicked wood noises, presumably chastising Cuppy not to be so reckless.
“Alright, well, like you said, I’ll wait for Richie.” Cuppy chirped.
Holly sighed on the other end. “I don’t know what happened, but it sounds suspiciously like you were trying to do your own thing, failed, and only then decided to follow the plan.”
“Nonsense.” Cuppy said, yanking the needle out of his side. “Oh my. That smarts.”
“What smarts? Cuppy, Cuppy, are you alright?” Holly said.
Cuppy felt something stir in his chest. He had no way of knowing it was Cruciform Striga, its strings sensing the vibrations of drifting corridors looking for a place to moor, but he did know that this gut feeling usually sent him in the right direction.
“Gotta go.” Cuppy said.
Click.
-
“Cuppy? Cuppy?” Holly asked. “He… he hung up on me. How the f-”
-
“Mr Valentine! You mustn’t move!” one of the medics cried out as Leon burst from the back of the ambulance, stomping after the diminutive shade.
It flattened into a shadow, losing mass and substance and escaping a would be crushing blow beneath Leon’s tread. The force of his own stomp sent an unpleasant shock racing up his cracked spine.
“SHIT!” Leon hissed, falling onto and skinning his knees.
The fallen swap doll, its purpose negated, fell to its side as well.
-
Richie and Cuppy sat inside the hospital room with Freyja. She was comatose, hooked up to an IV drip, an oxygen mask, and a number of sensors tethered to machines closely monitoring her vitals. Richie's fist clenched.
"You did well, Frey. Rest up, I'll finish this. When you wake up, you'll have already been avenged." he looked to the open doorway. "Isn't that right - nurse?!"
The nurse in question threw off their facemask and red cross hat, revealing themself to be Luchesi in disguise. Cuppy's strings could hear the drip of the real nurse's blood, strung up in the shower where Luchesi had left her.
The killer clutched the gauntlets on his fists. They felt familiar, yet alien, as if he had been apart from them for too long. Somehow, it was an omen that things would never be the same again.
Luchesi bowed his sunken face with its dark ring-rimmed eyes.
"The moppet, the fatass, the acrobat, the hellhound bitch, and even you, Richie. You're like cockroaches. I keep killing you, and you just keep coming back for more." the fallen jester sighed.
"The feeling is mutual." Cuppy gave a subdued, but pointed glare that couldn't have been anything but pure hatred.
"Leave Freyja be. You want our duel? Let's throw down." Richie said, standing and adjusting his scarf.
Luchesi's outline seemed indistinct, wavering. Blurry. His claws jutted out to their full curved length.
"Not here." Richie said, standing between Freyja's bed and her assailant. "We settle this where we agreed. The Backyards."
After a few moments, Luchesi nodded and retracted his claws.
"It would be bad for me to fight here too. I must carry out your execution on my holy grounds, to reaffirm my divine status. Fighting here would be meaningless." he said.
He turned around, scanning the halls beyond the doors, trying to pick up the scent of the nearest corridor. "Follow me." he said coldly, and led the way.
"Cuppy, you're in charge of protecting Frey until this is finished." Richie said over his shoulder. "I'm counting on you."
Cuppy nodded. "Roger." he gave a proud smile. "Kick his butt."
Richie and Luchesi came to the open door of a yawning janitor's closet, left untended to in an eerily quiet hall of waxed white floor and buzzing fluorescent lights. His dragon tattoos glowed azure, picking up the signature that Luchesi had already sniffed out, and confirming that the Backyards lay within, waiting for them.
"This will do." Luchesi said, gesturing within. "After you."
Richie chuckled.
"Oh? What's so funny?" Luchesi asked.
"You want me to get in the closet with you?" Richie said.
After a few moments, Luchesi bowed his head and chuckled too. It was decently funny.
They stepped into darkness. When the darkness lifted, it was as though theater lights had suddenly flashed, lighting the vista of the stage for the final performance.