#and people telling stories of how that cliff area is haunted because they sometimes hear weird out of tune music

[braveskyered]

Knights (Part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A mission and then a family reunion. Fun!

...Right?

Part 6: Working So You Could Like This Rhythm

- - -

Occasionally, Arthur would join Elaine on her ghost investigations.

With his wedding ring being imbibed with various charms and protection spells, along with the moon pin he kept on his jacket, he didn't have to worry about ghosts or demons trying to possess him again, or at least not as easily. He would use his past knowledge from his time with the Mystery Skulls into either planning budgets or crafting machinery meant to capture ghosts, some of which made Elaine's missions much easier, to her delight.

They even came up with a reliable system that allowed them to work together.

“Hold up, Elaine,” Arthur spoke through the headset as he checked one of the three screens, “Can you... see a path nearby on your left?”

“Huh? No, I only see solid wall,” Elaine replied, “I'm moving my hand against the rock right now and WHOA it's an illusion?!”

While Elaine went on the actual investigations, Arthur would remain in their protected van using various equipment to help Elaine trek through the areas much more safely, from forests to caves to even haunted manors. It didn't always work, but most of the time it did, and it allowed the two to perform better than ever as a husband and wife team of paranormal investigators.

Case in point, while most illusions can always fool the human eye, it cannot fool a radar since it won't pick up anything that's not actually there. Elaine would wear a special vest that held the radar in question, which would then send signals to the van for Arthur to read as a map, and then use the data to help Elaine navigate. The radar can even detects ghosts that are invisible, which is pretty convenient.

“I'm picking up small energy readings,” Arthur said as he saw the tiny blips indicating it, “I'm seeing one, two... Ah, five of them? They're probably wisps, but do be careful. We're in uncharted territory at this point.”

“Got it. You're the best, my star!”

Arthur smiled at the loving nickname. Elaine has always been the romantic type, often showering him with affection whenever he entered his gloomy state at times. Sometimes she can be a bit overbearing, but letting her know that is always enough for her to tone it down when needed. He noticed long ago that she never called him “love,” instead using phrases such as “my knight” or “my star” as her way of showing affection. He once asked her why she would use those terms when they were engaged, and her answer was plain and simple.

- - - - - - -

“You always seem uncomfortable whenever I call you 'my love,'” Elaine answered, “You gave me your star pin, and you're like a knight to me. A knight is always there for his lady, no?”

- - - - - - -

They soon married after that, with the kind approval of Vivienne, who later provided them the rings, the wedding small and personal. When they did, Arthur asked Elaine if he could take her name instead of her taking his, because he wanted to move on. She accepted, and he became known to the world as Arthur Knights.

He hoped that the Mystery Skulls will have a harder time finding him that way. He knew at this point that he is running away, but this is all he can do.

While the memories from before the cave are still painful, Arthur is able to recall most of them, some of them fondly when it involved Vivi, Mystery, and even Lewis, without shedding as many tears. His nightmares about the hatred from his former friend turned wraith have faded away for the most part. He still gets them, along with nightmares from the cave where everything went wrong and the loss of his arm, to being dropped off a cliff and barely surviving, but he learned how to manage it. The protection from the moon pin certainly helped.

Years have passed, and Arthur never had anyone from his past show up at his front door. It wasn't enough for him to fully relax, but it is enough for him to walk outside with his family for normal every day activities. He still feared going through crowds alone, but so long as he has his family with him, he knew he will be fine.

One day he will tell Elaine everything, but until he can, he will bear the weight alone.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur focused his attention back on the screen. The readings were still there, and he noticed that the map data the radar is detecting is--!

“Elaine? You might want to stop where you are!”

“Arthur?”

“This cavern is a lot bigger than we were told it would be,” Arthur shuddered, “The radar here is picking up a lot of tunnels. What do you see around you now?”

“I'm seeing...” Elaine trailed off before replying, “Whoa... I'm seeing a lot of railroad tracks going in various directions, and there's a cart that looks really old. Maybe this was the mine from long ago that the mayor told us about? Ugh... It's so cold in here!”

“I can check. For now, though, I highly suggest you go back the way you came. If what we're after is in there, it can catch us unprepared.”

“Okay, I'll come back to you. I need to restock on some provisions, anyway. How's the snow out there?”

“Not too bad. Still falling, but slowly. I'll see you in a bit.”

“Okay. I love you, my star.”

“I love you, too.”

Knowing that Elaine is safe, Arthur went to another screen and started to search on the online web for information about their current location. The Knights were hired to investigate a cave that is said to make people disappear in Sharp, Kentucky. Elaine volunteered to take it as if it were any other investigation. Although Arthur felt some apprehension about it, Elaine told him that she'll be doing the actual investigating, while he acted as support, which is enough to calm him. It took about eight hours to get there with their van, although the delays due to toll roads and the occasional road construction proved to be annoying that may have added an extra half hour or so.

Because of their frequent trips across the country, it's not unheard of for their vehicles or other equipment to break down during the worst of times. Thus, one of the former matriarchs from decades ago went and founded Four of a Kind Queens with her three sisters, hence the name. It was due to her that the family is required to know the business to keep it going, so they can learn the necessary knowledge needed to repair their equipment in case they broke down while they were out on actual hunts, while at the same time allow an alternative source of funding to flow in by doing repair work for a living.

Originally, Four of a Kind Queens used to repair regular machines such as cotton gins or carriages back in the old days. Eventually, Vivienne herself added the “Auto Repair” and included cars among the list of things needed to be maintained, making her the first among the line of actual car mechanics. Arthur had to admit that whoever that former matriarch is, she definitely made good results with her foresight. Not all people considered paranormal investigations to be legitimate careers, so having a second job as a backup is pretty smart.

All Arthur knew about the shop's main founder is that her name is Niniane.

Arthur briefly wondered if the Niniane the family has now is the same one that founded the family business before dropping that absurd idea. She'd have to be at least two hundred years old, while the Niniane that is alive is a distant relative of Elaine's, and from the one time Arthur saw her, she still looked pretty spry for an old woman in her approximate fifties or sixties. Then again, Arthur only saw the current Niniane once at a distance during his private wedding ceremony with Elaine, so he wouldn't know for sure. According to Elaine, Niniane rarely reveals herself, but if Arthur can find a way to talk to her...

Right, his mind's drifting off topic again. Focus, Arthur!

He searched for any clues a little more thoroughly, and soon got a hit. According to an online article written last year, the cave he and Elaine are currently investigating used to be a mine from twenty years ago that was abundant with iron with occasional pockets of tin. However, due to a large cave in, many of the miners had lost their lives, and the place was then closed off due to the safety hazard.

It corroborated with the story their client had told them. The client mentioned that whatever is causing the disappearances could either be the ghosts of the miners that died there, accidents due to people bypassing the warning signs, or something else entirely. The two were asked to not only find out what is causing the disappearances, but also see if they can find the ones who went missing to give the families closure.

“Oh, crud...!”

His attention back on the intercom, he noticed that the tone of Elaine's voice didn't sound good.

“Arthur, lock the door! Quickly!”

Arthur immediately locked the rear door to the van, and not soon after Elaine phased through like a ghost through a wall, causing whatever was chasing her to slam against the van.

“What the--?!” he was cut off by a hand slapped over his mouth.

“Be quiet!” Elaine hissed before looking around cautiously.

The two didn't make a sound, but Arthur could hear the sounds of something growling, and his heart skipped a beat when he heard a screech of pain. Whatever it is, it's clearly not human. Soon, it was silent again.

“Yay for protection wards,” Elaine relaxed and turned to Arthur, “Hey, sorry I had to phase through like that. I know you typically don't like it when I do that, but I didn't want to risk your safety.”

His eye twitched, “N-No, I appreciate it, but what the hell was that thing?” He trust his arms towards the door to indicate it while looking at her.

“Well, uh, I'm pretty sure it's the cause of all those people going missing,” Elaine answered with a grimace, “If it is, then it's safe to say that all of them are dead. Or, well, to put it more accurately, they were probably eaten.”

His arms still up, Arthur gave Elaine a flat look, “What.”

“Ever heard of the wendigo?” Elaine asked just as flatly.

Well, there went any chances of this investigation going smoothly.

- - - - - - -

Two days later, the job was completed, the wendigo has been eliminated, and the families of all the people that were killed received closure. Elaine received the payment for the job, along with some reward money from finding the remains of all the victims. Once the remaining paperwork was handled, Elaine and Arthur went back home in Cantabile.

It was good timing, too, since the Knights family is having a family reunion at Niniane's residence located in the outskirts of Cantabile. The place is a somewhat small and modest manor with a large field, a perfect location for occasions such as picnics and barbecues with extended family members.

“And anyways that's the second time I almost died in Kentucky,” Arthur finished nonchalantly. To his surprise, he is slowly being inoculated to the various paranormal now.

He's not sure if that's a good thing or not.

“How did such a monster get all the way down there in the first place? I thought they were native in Canada, or at least in Great Lakes region? The Native Americans that speak the Algonquian tongue ought to keep track of them.”

“Well, Elaine did say that the States has been having a record low temperature on the cold seasons,” Arthur, currently sitting on a picnic table, shrugged after taking a bite out of his fish hoagie, “She thinks it just wanted to explore new territory and it just happened to get stuck in that cave once the weather warmed up enough.”

Currently, Arthur is talking to Miles, Morgan's husband, who decided to join him for lunch while Elaine and Morgan were chatting away about something else while helping Gwen and Percy with their food. The man is dressed in a gray formal suit with a black shirt and white tie, fitting his position as a lawyer. His brown hair is slicked back, which did nothing to hide the gray hairs forming on the sides.

Miles mulled over the thought, then shrugged again, “I hope she's right on that,” he shook his head and decided to change the subject, “So, Gwen and Percy. They're about... five now, right?”

Arthur grinned, “Yup, they turned five last October. They started primary school this year, too. A bit later than we would have liked, but that's what happens to those born after August.”

As the twins grew, Arthur started seeing their personalities shine and develop.

Gwen is a quiet girl, often hiding behind her parents or large objects when meeting new people. She can talk in simple sentences, often struggling to speak any words longer than two syllables, yet she still tries. She usually prefers to play with blocks over dolls or watch Arthur check on the van's engine. She loved the color gray, saying it reminded her of pencils, which did boggle Arthur and Elaine's minds for a while before setting it aside as child's logic. In short, Gwen a quiet girl that takes after her father in terms of personality. Her favorite possession is the toy tool kit that was gifted to her on her recent birthday. Arthur mused that she might be a great mechanic like him or her mother when she gets older.

Percy, on the other hand, is a somewhat active boy. He's the child that treats every new thing as an adventure to explore, wanting to learn his new surroundings with gusto. He would often pick up random things off the ground and collect them in a box, which can range anywhere from bottle caps to animal skulls and one time a live snake (Arthur nearly fainted at that one until Elaine told him that it wasn't poisonous after she released it back outside). He is also an occasional prankster, but the most he's done is basically move things around, or ripping off the labels off of food cans, the last of which later caused Arthur's new habit of writing down the contents of the cans on the lids.

Some time later, after Miles left, Arthur looked at the many people that make up Elaine's side of the family.

There is Elaine herself, now talking to her mother, Caelia. Arthur recalled that Caelia is Morgan's younger sister by three years, and probably the next matriarch once Vivienne vacates her position. The older woman has black hair that she keeps as a braided bun, is around the same height as Elaine. The older woman clearly knew how to take care of herself, as her thin frame can attest to.

Arthur felt that he seriously underestimated the actual size of the Knights family. He isn't sure of the exact number, but there had to be at least forty people, most of them being adults, and more than half of them were women. In fact, Arthur noticed that all the men that were even in this reunion were either husbands or boyfriends. There were children, but outside Gwen and Percy, Arthur only managed to count about eight of them when he saw the children in question at a table nearby.

He isn't sure what to think when he learned that out of all the parents, he and Elaine are the only ones to have a son. Then again, Percy's mere existence alone was definitely a shock to the Knights family.

According to Elaine, to Arthur's bemusement, all of the women in the Knights family for the past ten known generations only ever had daughters, which is the main reason why the family of monster hunters is ruled by a “queen,” so to speak. When it was discovered that Elaine would be having twins, it was genuinely thought that she would only be having twin girls, even by Elaine herself. Even though Arthur noted that the sex of the younger twin wasn't discovered during the ultrasound, no one in the family questioned it since they sincerely believed their theory.

Needless to say, Percy, with his birth, threw that logic out the window without even realizing it.

Because the family title of matriarch is only passed down from daughter to daughter, no one in the family is sure on what Percy's standing is. Eventually, after a few days of contemplating this, Vivienne decided to just play it by ear for now. The only major action she decreed is that Percy is not to be treated any differently from any other child, which essentially forbade the extended family from trying to use Percy as some sort of leverage.

While Elaine is still amazed that she managed to have a son, Arthur once joked to her that the same applied to his side of the family, in that his family only had sons. Well, Arthur isn't entirely sure that's accurate. After leaving his parents and their nasty divorce to live with Lance, he never bothered trying to know his family ancestry. It just never crossed his mind. In the end, to him, he's just happy to have a family.

“Dad?”

Arthur looked to his right and saw Gwen and Percy stand before him, the former looking frustrated and the latter looked a little down. Looking at the two, Arthur noted that the boy looked almost exactly like he did when he was his age, only in that the child has blue eyes and the white lock of hair. Percy's hair isn't as spiky as Arthur's yet, but that will probably change as he gets older. On Gwen's end, she still resembled Elaine in an uncanny fashion, except that she does not have a white lock of hair, while having Arthur's amber eye color.

“Can I, can I...” Percy, looking timid, looked up at his father, “C-Can I sit with you?”

Arthur smiled, “Of course,” he held out his arms in a welcoming gesture and allowed his son and daughter to climb up on the picnic table's chair. Once the two were comfortable, Arthur wrapped his arms around their shoulders. Gwen on his left, Percy on his right, as it always is, “What brings you two here?”

“They said that boys aren't allow-allowed over there,” Gwen grouched, which is rather unlike her, “Girl talk only. They said Daddy is-is not cool. We-We-We... We are Knights, too!”

Wait, how old are these kids? Was this from school? Wait, was this from their cousins? If Arthur remembered right, wasn't the oldest child in their generation at least thirteen? What the heck are they talking about? Or more importantly, who the heck taught Gwen and Percy to think like that???

He rose a rather disapproving brow at the table that held the eight girls, and noticed that some of the older children were actually staring at him before turning away to hide the fact. Arthur let out a breath of annoyance. Did those girls seriously think he will confront them about this? He decided to just talk to Elaine about it later tonight in hopes of preventing a future occurrence. Unlike him, she knows how to talk with her relatives.

Percy leaned against Arthur's right side, gripping at the latter's shirt, tears beginning to leak, “Dad is... cool. Dad is... Dad.”

At the same time, Gwen leaned against his left side, not saying a word, probably too annoyed to do so.

Arthur has his hands on each of their shoulders in an attempt to comfort them. He knew that he isn't the ideal father, but he still strives to do the best he can be. He isn't sure what to do, but eventually a thought came to him. Adjusting his arms somewhat, Arthur gently held his children closer to himself, and started to slowly hum the lullaby he used ever since they were newborns. He tried not to shed any tears or have his voice crack whenever he does this now. The twins are old enough to know what being sad means, and young children are known to easily sense a person's feelings. To Arthur, these two do not deserve to feel his suffering.

By keeping his anguish concealed, it also meant that even though he's struggled to move on, a part of him still didn't want to let the past go.

This time I might just disappear...

Whoa-o-o-oh

This time I might just dis-

Yet his heart would write in pain every time he hummed this song.

Oh mo mo mo mo

Oh mo mo mo mo (Oh yeah)

Oh mo mo mo mo oh

But if it meant that these two would be given comfort...

This time I might just disappear...

Whoa-o-o-oh

This time I might just dis-

Then the painful memories of him being left behind, nearly being killed, or being hated by the Mystery Skulls, made it worth it.

Oh mo mo mo mo

Oh mo mo mo mo (Oh yeah)

Oh mo mo mo mo oh

To his relief, Gwen and Percy gradually relaxed. Gwen no longer looked annoyed, while Percy no longer looked upset. They just leaned against their father, content.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Arthur did shed a single tear, but he was able to play it off by yawning. Taking a moment to rub the tear away, Arthur continued to hold his two reasons of living. Along with Elaine, these two are his family. Even though he can't go back, he has this family to live for now. He will be forever grateful to the Knights, or more specifically to Vivienne and Elaine, for letting him have this.

But if there is one thing that's unnerving about being in this family as a whole...

“Isn't he...?”

“Yeah, he's Elaine's husband. This is actually my first time seeing him since their wedding.”

“So where do you think he came from?”

...would be the words he would hear the extended family speak occasionally. The women are definitely chatterboxes at times.

“Beats me. From what I hear, he doesn't like talking about his past that much.”

“Guys? We should be respecting his privacy. Who cares where he came from? If Mama Vivienne approved of him as Elaine's husband, then I've no reason to doubt him. Don't assume things.”

Well... at least someone among them is fine with him? Or maybe that woman just didn't care, he did a subtle glance and saw that it's Elaine's cousin, Eleanor. He's spoken to her before, but not as often as he does with her mother, Morgan. Eleanor travels a lot since her husband Nicholas has to move frequently due to his job, if Arthur remembered correctly.

“But as far as we know, he's a nobody!”

“Hey, watch your tone. So what if he is? He's still family. Besides, from what I've seen of him, he's been a pretty good husband and father so far. I mean, look, he's with his kids right now. If that doesn't prove he's a good person, I don't know what will. Again, Mama Vivienne approved of him, and even Nana Niniane has given us good word, so keep any distasteful thoughts to yourself.”

Still, Arthur made it a point to not interact with the extended family unless it's absolutely necessary. It's not that he doesn't like them, far from it, but it's primarily because he doesn't want to risk invoking their wrath. Unless what Elaine told him was wrong, almost all of the women except for Morgan are capable of changing their shape into monstrous forms to fight monsters when the situation calls for it.

“Seriously? Just because he managed to sire a son doesn't mean it makes him special.”

Well, that, and Arthur had actually seen them squabble in those forms a few times in the past. That one time where one woman turned into a Jorogumo while another became a Nure-onna and fought one another was a rather frightening experience. It took Elaine turning into a Gashadokuro and smacking them down to stop them, while loudly declaring that she is not sharing her husband, did she successfully get her distant cousins to actually stop fighting. That happened shortly after the twins were born.

“Oh my god, Melia, are you seriously trying to pick a fight? Look, we get it, you don't like him because he and Elaine have a son while you and Tad don't. I'm pretty sure you're not the only one who's envious. At least you have the grace to love your daughters.”

Arthur winced upon hearing that. Checking on the twins, he saw that the two were actually asleep. He hoped that the two weren't hearing what their relatives were saying. While he is sure that the few family members that do dislike him wouldn't be petty enough to want to hurt him under normal circumstances, but after having a wraith try to kill him for something he didn't do, he didn't want to risk it.

...He is well aware that he is still somewhat afraid of the Knights even after learning their family secret. He knew that Elaine and her immediate family wouldn't hurt him, but he isn't so sure with the extended relatives outside her grandmother and aunt.

He really didn't want to be here now. He wished that Elaine would finish talking with Morgan and return soon, so that they can all go home and get away from this reunion and not expose Gwen and Percy to the envy and--

“What...?”

Arthur saw from the corner of his eye in a distance that resembled something white with multiple tails sitting next to a large tree. When he turned to actually look, the sight didn't change.

Mystery is over there.

In his kitsune form.

Why isn't anyone in the family reacting to his presence when he is so close?!

He loosened his hold on Gwen and Percy and started to breath heavily, rather quickly at that. The sight of Mystery is...!

How did he find him?!

“Daddy? Daddy, are you okay?”

Arthur could barely register Gwen talking. His heart rate gradually increased, his hands were shaking. He gripped at his left wrist. He didn't notice Percy tugging at his sleeve.

“Dad? What's wrong?”

He saw Mystery stand, and the kitsune slowly opened its mouth, the yellow glint never leaving its face.

The last thing Arthur heard is his name being called out frantically.

* - * - * - * - *

Notes: I'm not freaking out.

Arthur doesn’t really interact with Elaine’s far extended family during the reunions, so he doesn’t know much about them.

The wendigo actually originates from a religious belief from folklore of the Algonquian language. The Native Americans that speak it are primarily in certain parts of Canada and probably around the Great Lakes region, too. While the beliefs vary between the communities, the wendigo is said to be an entity with a never ending hunger for human flesh. Although I have read somewhere that they're also said to be a symbol of the dangers of one's selfishness, and maybe something about how the people can't practice their own religion or something among those lines, I'm not a hundred percent sure. So while the exact facts of the wendigo are not 100% consistent between various sources, what is consistent about them is essentially this: winter, monster, famine, greed, and cannibalism.

On another note, there seems to be two types of wendigo, one where it looks like a vague definition of a human, or one would have the skull of a stag (which is said to be a modern depiction). In the case for this chapter, the former is used. The wendigo from the survival horror game Until Dawn can give you a general idea on what they look like.

Like with Tempo and Cantabile, Sharp is also a music term. Coincidentally, there really is a place called Sharpe, spelled with the letter E, in Kentucky. I just chose Kentucky primarily so I can use an incorrect Mystery Skulls quote.

As for Arthur's parents being divorced, it's from a post that Artsy from the Ghost Crew made. It's stated not to be canon since Artsy said it's a personal headcanon of hers, but it's the closet I could get. Regardless, it's pretty much accepted in the fandom that Arthur was better off with Lance.

...

...Do you think he still is?

Part 7: How Lucky...?

#mystery skulls animated #msa fanfic #fanfic #arthur kingsmen #msa arthur #msa #mystery skulls #msa knights #elaine knights

[andwinterfell]

"le raison d'être“ characters: Cher Michaels, Darla (Michaels) Matthews, The McCormick Family warnings: implications of parental neglect / emotional abuse / family issues

1981 words originally written 5/26/2017, no edits currently

The small bed and breakfast of Seaside Cove isn't a place most people would find at first glance. It's somewhat off to the side, located on a cliff, it's driveway shielded by trees. One driving through, especially in poor weather, is likely to miss the blue sign that points it's way down that road, or they're more likely to see the yellow diamond that says No Outlet and pass it up completely.

This is what Cher Michaels deals with every time he makes his way into this town. Leaning over the back seat of his Ubers pointing no, no, there it's there… and often sitting back grumbling when they drive past. The small bed and breakfast of Seaside Cove is larger than most houses still. It's old, a tall and skinny Victorian home with with red shutters and a door also painted red. The mailbox is shaped like a large blue whale, and when he steps out of his Uber often his first act is to run his fingers over the details of the metal. Handmade he knows, by the owner's father before he disappeared and became the sort of person who kidnapped rich kids for money. Cher heard he was in jail again last time he talked to his sister. Neither of them knew how to feel about that, all things considered.

There have been a few additions over the years, newly applied paint and a repair of certain parts of the house, a wheelchair ramp and several colorful picnic tables overlooking the sea. The newest thing Cher finds this time is the binoculars sitting at the very edge of the cliff, just before the fence to keep people from falling over. Twenty five cents for a minute, fifty for two. He doesn't know how they keep all this up with prices like that. It's a cheap place to stay too, five open rooms with two beds each at the most and a fee that was far less than most in the area and a house that was hard to find. They get more business in tourist season, but not by much. They have benefactors of sorts, himself semi-included when he can get away with it, but he still can't say if it would be enough. *** Cher Michaels arrives on an off season, bundled up for the cold Friday afternoon after cutting his last class to get here. Accounting, he'd told his sister when she tried to chide him, a class he both hates and excels at so don't sound like such a mother, Darla. “Well, I'm a mother now aren't I?” “You're not mine.” (That phone conversation led to awkward silence, both of them remembering their own mother. Darla makes a sound, probably to ask how Angelique is doing if she's well if she's healthy, but Cher cuts her off before she can. “I'll be there in a bit.”) Now, standing in front of the house, he stuffs his hands into his pockets and shifts awkwardly. He wonders if she's working right now, because he hadn't called her when he got out of class and into the Uber. He wonders if he should have let her ask. *** The small bed and breakfast of Seaside Cove is run by a couple in their late thirties. Junior McCormick and his wife Norelle, their children Andrew and Mia, and Junior's grandfather Reginald. Aside from his sister, they're the only ones who run the house. It's a family business, Norelle had told him, you and your sister are family too. He tries not to think about that. He fails often, it's hard when Norelle McCormick spots you from the window and is suddenly ushering you in, cooing over you like an Aunt you haven't seen in a while even though Cher reminds her it's barely been a month. Darla's not there yet, but his niece and nephew are. Tristan, getting bigger and learning how to walk, chases after Norelle son, a teenager who has the whole angst thing down to a T. Amèlie, nearly five, lays on her stomach at the foot of Reggie's wheelchair, quietly coloring while the old man sleeps. It's hectic as always, and Cher has to thank God that only the bare amount of family is here right now. Thanksgiving had seen this as well as the Winters twins, Junior's half brother with his mother and their childhood friend, and even Junior's father who'd stopped in at the end of the day to cause a commotion and leave again only to be arrested the following month​ for breaking and entering. “No one else is coming, right?” “Well…” “Other than Darla and Jere.” *** He's playing with Mia and Tristan when Darla finally shows up. It's nearly evening when she comes in with her husband, both of them carrying groceries. She's surprised when she sees him there. “I didn't think you were serious about missing class, Cher.” “When do I lie about that?” “Fine, I hoped you weren't serious.” He shrugs. “I'll make up what I missed over the weekend while you're working.” They both know this isn't true. More likely: Tristan will demand his attention, Norelle will need someone to watch Mia, Amèlie will want him to play her favorite slow piano song a hundred times in an hour, Andrew will need help with math. Cher never considered himself to be good with kids until he found himself with his sister's and Norelle’s crawling all over him. He thinks he likes them now, maybe, sometimes. He thinks he's a decent tutor too, he thinks he's getting better at patience. At least, with children. Wouldn't​ want one of his own but... well, it's been pointed out he indulges and humors them more than adults, at least. Before that, though, he pulls a few things from his bag. Wrapped in brown paper and again inside a plastic bag. He gives these to Darla. “Fran sent that envelope of money, Jolie sent the champagne God only knows where she got it, the coloring books too. I found that necklace here, in America, it was cheaper than I expected.” (She cries, of course she does. She wraps her arms around his shoulders. She doesn’t ask what about Father and Maman. Cher leans into it.) *** It's Saturday before he sits down with his sister. She's made iced tea, put it in two skinny glasses that she sits between them in the sitting room. He has Mia on his lap, reading some story to her while she points at brightly colored pictures that follow. Darla sweeps her away, depositing her into her great grandfather’s lap before taking a seat next to her brother. “You haven’t even looked at what you missed yet, have you?” Cher slumps back, looking away from her. “I don’t really need to, Darla.” She reaches out, fingers twitching on his sleeve as she tugs his hand closer so she can set her own in it. He lets her, glances at her, tries not to smile. “Have you decided what you’re going to do when you finish school?” she asks, and any semblance of a smile drops from his face completely. She notices, adjusts the question, it’s no better in his mind but at least it’s something he can answer: “How was Tours?” “Same as always.” “Is Maman doing okay?” “... no, I don’t think so.” “... Jolie?” “I can’t tell. She seems happy. I don’t know.” “Francine?” “She and father fought a lot this time, more than usual,” he leans back. “She’s smarter than him. I don’t think he likes that.” Darla can’t hold back a laugh and covers her mouth after, embarrassed. A little shamed. (He knows why, her laughs aren’t very modest anymore. Aren’t pristine, ladylike little giggles. They’re loud, she snorts now. He thinks it’s his fault, because he’s here she laughs just fine when she’s with Jere, when she doesn’t seem to care he’s watching.) “What does she think of everything going on? Have you told her anything you’ve told me?” Cher shrugs. “No, not as much. I think she can tell something’s up, though. I mean, clearly she knows I’m talking to you. I’m sure everyone does, at this point. I haven’t been exactly subtle, but Father--” “Tell me more about Christmas,” she says, cutting him off. When he looks over she has one of those forced smiles on again, pretty and polite, and he wants to sink into the earth when he sees it. It gets easier the more they talk about it, she even laughs a few times at the way Jolie dragged him out at night, hearing he was going out more. He tells her about his classes, his new ones, what he likes and what he doesn’t. He makes her tell him about her Christmas, after he left, the whole motley crew showing up to fill the house, leaving little room for business. “You’re a Scrooge,” she says when he points this out. “I’m practical.” “That’s what a Scrooge would say, Cherie.” “I haven’t been haunted yet.” “Give it time,” she teases, leaning in to pinch his cheek before Norelle calls her away. One couple had found the place, shivering with snow in their hair and grateful for the warmth of a fire. “The fuck do they think they’re trying to do?” Reggie asks Cher when he comes to pick Mia back up. Cher shrugs. “Sounds like they’re sightseeing.” “It’s fucking winter.” “They want to see the natural beauty, not the tourist traps.” “Fucking stupid of them.” Cher laughs, the only sign of his agreement before he leaves the old man to sleep again. *** Sunday evening, just before dinner, Darla sweeps into Cher’s room with her hands on her hips. “You have class tomorrow, don’t you?” He sets down his book, shrugs. “I sent in the homework when I had the free time. I don’t need to be back for anything urgent before one.” “Cher…” “What if I stayed here? What if I didn’t go back?” (And, it always comes down to this. He always backs up the second he sees the look on her face, the worry, the is this my fault the you don’t have to follow my example the we’re still family no matter what he says. It happens again:) “I’m joking,” he lies, and goes back to his book. He only looks up when he feels the mattress shift, sees Darla sitting next to him, leaning over his shoulder. “What’s this one for?” “Accounting, I told you I’d look over it when I had the time.” But, he closes the book and sets it aside when she leans her head on his shoulder. They stay like that until Andrew peeks his head in, rolls his eyes and says, “Hey, dinner’s almost ready and I still need help with this Calc stuff so…” *** What if I stayed here? What if I didn’t go back? He’d be miserable, he thinks. This was his sister’s life, what she chose to do with herself, and he knows very well he’d be unhappy doing this all the time. They’re different, the two of them. She likes to bake and garden and is excited over how rough her hands have gotten over the years, how much less they hurt the more she uses them. He likes the softness of his hands, likes staying inside cool rooms and playing or reading. He doesn’t know how he would survive with no money and a job that barely paid minimum wage, no matter how much he loved the McCormicks. No matter how much he loved his weekends and holidays here. Monday morning, when she’s hugging him goodbye, she says what she always does. “What if you tried something else? What if you found something else you loved to do?” He never tells her that’s impossible he really wants to believe it’s true.

#ch: the mccormicks #ch: darla michaels #ch: cher michaels #source: wtl

[omega-al]

The Cave

The cave was on the cliffs behind the the old Epidaurus house, past the woods that surrounded it. Lady Epidaurus had died over forty years ago, and since then the place had been abandoned, only occasionally inhabited by roaming bums, drug addicts, and satanic cults. Weird shit happened in that house even before she died, there were rumors about her family, sometimes the towns people would show up to have their fortunes read, other times they’d show up with fire and pitchforks. If there were anyone left alive that’d remember them, they’d say that family was cursed, marked by the devil, dark, wrong... We first heard about them when we were researching the Salem witch trials, and their name came up in relations to an obscure demonic cult from early colonial times, though after more research, we discovered the family was older than that, even before they came to America, this gypsy family had traces in eastern Europe, Bulgaria and Greece. The Epidaurus family had been creeping around in the dark corners of the earth for a thousand years.

The cave itself was a local legend, before American settlers came to this area it was used for ritual sacrifice. The local native tribe was the kinda scary that was into all sorts of dark shit. Cannibalism to child sacrifice. The cave was at the epicenter of their belief, they thought it was a gate, a kind of doorway between worlds. Being the kind of brutal warmongering tribe they were, they had no shortage of enemies to offer up, but eventually other tribes learned to stay far away from this fucked up society. You can imagine what happens to a people that inbreeds and sacrifices half its gene pool to dark gods, but you don’t have to, because I am going to tell you. If you believe the stories of the white settlers, they found a group of about sixty people who were barely recognizable as people, they looked like demons. They were animalistic, violent and carnal. They had cut parts of off, sew other parts of animals onto themselves, horns and fur, and in the case of the chief, the cocks of his enemies, animal and human a like. Their skin was ritualistically burned, cut and bloodied. They looked like monsters, or at least that’s what the white men said. They slaughtered all of them, wiped the tribe from the face of the earth. It was said that a curse was put on the land that day, and anyone who lived there after that. Maybe the curse is what drew this strange gypsy family to build on this land.

We found hundreds of years of weird happenings and tragedy, missing children and sorrow unending, and then all of a sudden with the death of the last living member of the family, it all went quiet. Nothing for decades. The ‘satanist’ cult visitors, no more than wannabe gothy teens and the advantageous mystics trying to fuck them. But I knew it was still there, I knew it was just hiding, waiting for the right people to carry out its will.

We had been to the house that morning and found nothing, just shitty graffiti, used needles and a bum named Jared who smelled of piss, and thought I had stolen his hat thirty years ago in a bar in Brooklyn. He was useless but he did tell me late at night sometimes when the wind blew the right direction, he could hear chanting. He said sometimes the chanting would start as a low growl, like that of a large cat reminding you who is the prey, then it would get louder and louder until you could hear voices in the depths, screaming… that’s about when he started hitting himself in the head with his fist and we had to subdue him. He was just a jibbering mass of tears and sweat after that, so we left him with a bottle of whiskey and bump of heroin to get him through this episode, which we clearly caused. I told him before we left, to go, to leave this place, but I don’t think he heard me. Poor sonofabitch.

We set out from the house on foot at one, I had a map of the local trails and was fairly certain I knew where we would find the cave. We should have told someone where we were going, come back the next day when the sun was just coming up with help and a guide, because before we knew it, we were hopelessly lost and it was getting dark. My partner wanted to head back a few hours into it and we did, well we tried, but the trail markers kept changing, nothing was as it should be on the map. We found landmarks where they shouldn’t be, we crossed our own footprints several times. I might be a city kid, but how can you get so fucking lost of sixty acres of land. I’ll admit I was spooked, and my partner was near hysterical. That’s when I heard it, low and deep on the wind. It was coming from the east, from what should be the cliffs. I could barely hear it at first over the sound of leaves rustling in the sudden strong gust, but once I did, it got louder, until it was all I could hear. That’s when I realized the wind was no longer blowing, and the trees were completely still, but the sound was growing, in my chest, not my ears. I felt like I was about to be devoured by the lion I can’t see, but know I’m being hunted by. At this pinnacle of horror familiarity strikes and I can hear voices, low human voices, old unknown languages calling something up from the darkness. I looked at my partner and saw they were white, frozen in horror at the same realization I myself was experiencing. We were close.

Trying to leave this place didn’t work and my curiosity was driving me forwards, no amount of pleading on their behalf did any good, I had to know. So we went east toward the cliffs and the cold dark unfeeling ocean.

Something about the ocean always fascinated me, it gobbles up life, and is the source of life, it had seen it all, it watches the land and sky change, and die, and regrow, like we watch the lives of insects, each individual life without meaning, only able to be understood as movements and trends, and really all those lives are meaningless in the grand scope of time, for which the ocean has much more of than us. The ocean is like my mother, a cold hard bitch that doesn’t care if you live or die, just don’t make a fucking mess of the joint. And these cliffs, they had run red with blood into that cold forgetting ocean for hundreds of years. If a land could be haunted, this place sure as hell looked like it. The stone was white, alabaster, jagged and worn by the ruthless sea and as the moon rose into the sky it cast strange and terrifying shadows across the gnarled rocks and crags. The trail led us right to it. The dirt path becoming a dark red rust stained into the rocks. Blood. This was must be the way the sacrifices were marched, being flagellated and whipped by the rest of the tribe on their way to their fate. The chanting was louder here and came from a peak on the cliffs now outlined by the silver light of the moon. Maybe it was a trick of the light, the sheer contrast of light on the surface of dark, but it looked black, like really black, you couldn’t even see the mouth of the cave, it looked like a blurry smear of shadows undefined in reality, there, but not there.

As we stepped from the trail onto the cliffs I could almost see them, brutal busted forms of humans merged with animals, goat gods and feral ghouls, pain and blood, and lust, worn as armor. The atrocities that happened here are remembered by the earth, by the very stones beneath our feet.

As I walk towards the peak, my partner held onto my arm, I dragged them with me, they sob quietly as I imagine the weak would have when facing their fate, but they do not stop. Maybe fear had overwhelmed them, but my mind was racing, filling with images of the things that could have happened here. I didn’t know if I was going crazy or if something wanted me to see. The closer I got the louder the chanting, drums in the deep dark ahead of me urging me forward, the history of this place flooding my mind. White men, invaders, waging a war against the devil in their eyes, they killed them all, they raped their women, and sold their children into slavery, they were monsters. And when they owned the land, the brutality did not cease, this place made people wrong. It fucked them up, gave them strange ideas, maybe showed them what it was now, showing me.

I was about twenty feet away from the opening of the cave when the moon finally crested the peak and filled the area with white light, the ground was red, slick with blood. Our feet were wet with it. My partner saw this and started gagging and trying to climb me at the same time. The blood was flowing from the mouth of the cave and there in the deepest darkness, was a red glow, a small point of light that only grew in size the more you focused on it. I was fixated, I could not look away and my feet kept moving towards it. My partner was freaking now, screaming, begging me to stop. I could hear them threaten to leave me here if we did not turn back, but I did not speak, I had to keep going I had to know what was in the cave. I was ten feet away when he chanting stopped and I heard what sounded like the crunch of bones underfoot. Looking down, the ground was littered with them, animals mostly, but I could see crushed human skulls and the bones of what could only be children amongst the more familiar deer and coyote. I looked to my left and there at a stone altar, was the chieftain, his arms held aloft a giant maul, a naked body knelt beneath him, bound and gagged. He wore a cloak made of human flesh, and just like the legend, there were fucking cocks and balls all over the thing, like some visceral decorative fringe of manhood. His head had ram's horns grafted to the sides of his skull, his eyes were hollow blackened sockets. I was staring agape at him when he turned and looked me straight in the eye. He could see me. I was there, with him. He lowered the maul and gestured for me to join him, I turned to look for my partner, but suddenly I was wearing the cloak of dicks, my hands held the maul and I was bringing it down upon the skull of this kneeling human. I could feel the buckling of the skull easily giving way, I could feel the squish of their head meats escaping through their ears when I brought the heavy weapon down on their head, I could hear the silence of their sudden lack of breath. I dropped he maul and closed my eyes, holding them closed and telling myself, it’s not real, but even with my eyes closed I could smell the metallic scent of blood all around me. When I opened my eyes, the river of blood and the chief were gone, the bones remained but looked a lot less human, and there beneath me was my partner, brains smashed out by the rock I was still holding in my hands. It was so quiet. So completely still. What had I done… Then from the dark behind me, a low growl of something old, and evil, and pleased as punch with itself. I looked back and the body was gone, my partner nowhere to be seen, I still held the rock, but it no longer covered in blood.

I turned to face the mouth of the cave and dropping the rock, walked into the darkness as the growl became a deep laughter. I still want to know, the devil shoulda known better than to fuck with me. And now I know where he lives.

#evil #demons #cults #cannibals #blood #sacrifice #don't fuck with the devil #for your entertainment #theater of death