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creaturesandcomforts · 11 months

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The Spectrum || Metzli and Abigail

Timing: Present Parties: @muertarte and @creaturesandcomforts Summary: After finding themself overstimulated and stressed in a bar, Metzli makes their way out to the alley behind the establishment in hopes of finding some solitude. Abigail follows them outside to offer whatever help she can. Content Warnings: (suggested) Parental death tw

Why did bars have to be so loud? Even at the Bloody Stake, the patrons there tended to be a little…rambunctious. A little too loud for Metzli’s taste. Still, they were trying to expand their horizons so they could give Leila more experiences. So they didn’t get so caught up with the idea that there was an abundance of people around them when they should be focusing on the fun they could be having. It was a difficult task, though. People who were bumping into them and spilling bits of their drink on the section of the bar they were sitting at. It made it sticky. Not a good sensation. Very much not a good sensation.

Rocking back and forth for a few moments in hopes of the chill passing, Metzli swallowed the last of their drink and rose rather harshly. Their stool screeched back, and yet another patron bumped into them. They couldn’t hold back at that point. A growl rumbled in their throat and they bared their fangs at the offender, immediately weaving through the crowd to get to the back exit.

Metzli pushed the door open harshly, practically throwing it off of its hinges. The cool air welcomed them, as did the silence when the door closed behind the vampire. With a sigh, they leaned against the cold brick of the bar’s building and sucked in a breath. They were done trying to be normal, that much was certain.

In the hopes of finding a good drink outside of her workplace, Abigail forced herself to head to The Bloody Stake. If not for the plugs in her ears, she was sure she would’ve immediately turned around and left. She sat alone in a booth with a drink in her hands, eyes scanning the patrons who drank and enjoyed themselves with few cares in the world, but one figure immediately stood out. She recognized many people in town, but what got her attention was the fact that Metzli was here on their own volition, without somebody to encourage them to spend their time somewhere so public. From what little she knew about them, drinking in a loud bar was out of character, if not an agonizing idea.

Abigail continued to watch them silently from a distance as they were bumped into and jostled. Just as she stood to go help them, they appeared to have threatened somebody and made their way to the exit. She took a moment to adjust her jacket and her mask, before moving to follow them, walking through the crowd with the sturdiness of a brick wall given human form.

Not too long after the door closed behind Metzli, Abigail forced it back open and made her way through, before turning around to slowly close it behind her. As her attention returned to Metzli, she kept her distance, observing them for a few seconds before attempting to communicate and offer them some help. They looked stressed, particularly overstimulated, that was something she could help with. As a gesture of kindness and good faith, she pulled a small plastic box from her pocket, revealing that it was filled with disposable foam ear plugs as she offered it to them with a gentle tilt of her head.

The door opened almost as soon as it shut, and the thought of someone infringing on their space made Metzli almost growl aloud. Anxiety swelled in their chest, and they were on the verge of breaking into a sprint until they saw who opened the door. The bunny mask was an undeniable tell. “Abigail.” They swallowed, trying to keep from shaking from the overstimulation. It was embarrassing, really. For someone who could slaughter a whole town, it was ridiculous that a little too much noise and people could take them down so easily.

But it appeared Abigail understood the weakness, and she was offering a bit of help to alleviate the pain. “What is this?” Metzli had never seen ear plugs before, but they took the box to inspect. Looking to and from Abigail and the box, they’re brows scrunched together as they shook out a few of the items inside. It took some finagling with only one hand, but a few tumbled onto Metzli’s palm. The cone shape gave no indication as to what Abigail was giving to them, and they looked absolutely perplexed as they met their eyes with her mask. Metzli knew Abigail didn’t speak, so they opted to request a visual explanation instead. “Show me how to use?”

With a small nod to confirm her identity, Abigail reached out to grab one of the plugs, before squeezing it tightly with two fingers, making a show of doing so to properly display the use. It felt a bit silly, but she'd already committed to helping, regardless of how much she felt like she was acting in an infomercial. She then pointed to her ear with the plug, gesturing as if she was putting it in without actually doing it, so she could return the earplug to the container.

After taking a deep breath, realizing that her instructions might be insufficient, Abigail took a step closer to Metzli, gesturing for them to do the same with a single pale finger. "Closer… I'll help." She spoke in a near-whisper, her voice raspy and hardened from a lack of frequent use. Luckily for her, Metzli probably already felt as uncomfortable in the bar as she did when speaking around others, and Metzli wasn't just somebody else, they were like her, dark and warm.

The fact that Abigail had to use her voice to help made Metzli’s stomach drop uncomfortably. There was a reason she hid behind a mask and used computers to speak for her. Their stupidity had forced her into a state of discomfort, and they were wracking their mind for a way to make it up to her. Repay her in some form of kindness. “Am sorry.” Metzli bowed their head, watching the eyes of Abigail’s mask as she drew closer. They were dark and familiar, somehow warm in the void of light.

“Friend gift me headphoneys for noise, but wanted to try being normal on my own. Not know what is wrong with me.” The disappointment was hardly noticeable to anyone that didn’t know the vampire, but it was there all the same. Metzli didn’t mind how they looked with large cups over their ears. They rather enjoyed it, actually. Most people tended to avoid them and that was an additional perk that they loved. But Leila was outgoing and kind and deserved to be able to venture out for activities without needing to accommodate them. So, Metzli tried. It wasn’t working, but they tried.

“Thank you for help.”

"You don't need to apologize to me. I am responsible for my own existence." Abigail offered a nod of understanding in return, taking note of their words. They knew of their problems but not the causes of them, a position she'd been in many times throughout the course of her life, and they would remain standing just as they would on the other side of the discovery, whatever it may be. With a slightly louder voice, she spoke again, her voice cracking slightly as the words slipped from her lips. "Nothing is wrong with you. Having unique needs doesn't make you lesser than others."

Abigail knew that now was when she should give a supportive gesture of some kind. A shoulder pat, a hug, something like that, but it was too far a leap, especially with how overwhelmed they both probably were in the moment. She hoped that for once, her fractured words would be enough. It was clear that she wanted to help in some other way, however, she was painfully aware of her limitations. "If you want your friend to feel comfortable. they probably want the same for you. I don't like loud places either, if it's any consolation."

“Not think am lesser. Actually think am too much.” Which was ironic because Metzli had never been enough. Their pitiful excuse of existence, as their parents called it, had only been remarkable once. The day they were born. And even then, there were two caveats. One, Metzli wasn’t born on their own, and two, it was arguably the day that their father rued the most. Of that fact, Baltazar Bernal made sure his child knew. Too much or too little, Metzli could never get it right. Never learned to be enough or just right. They were starting to think they never would.

“Always like this. In trouble a lot as child. Never change. Is why Honey help me at your business.” There was a tinge of guilt in that fact, knowing they had burdened yet another with their needs. If Honey was ever annoyed, she never made it known, but there was always that fear resting in the back of Metzli’s mind. Always waiting for the ball to drop. “You are maybe right.” They sighed, shrugging, “Is why she got me the headphoneys, I think. She is very nice. Not understand how she can take the loud. Is always so pinche loud…”

Grumbling, Metzli rubbed their eye with the their knuckle and refocused on Abigail, who had a similar overwhelmed body language as them. They weren’t sure if the same things grounded her, but there was no better way to find out than with direct communication. “Would you like to squeeze my hand?” They pocketed the earplugs and extended their hand, face and voice dry as ever. “You can say no. Not offend. Trying to help.”

"You seemed to enjoy yourself, maybe even more so with Honey's presence. A support system is not a bad thing to have if you're looking to try new things." Abigail offered a simple shrug after she spoke, listening to them talk in return about another of their friends. This person sounded a bit like Honey, at least when it came to being more accommodating and caring than most. It was pleasant to hear that there were many out there who were willing to meet people like them halfway without making them feel lesser. "Your friend sounds… kind."

Taken off guard by Metzli's offer, Abigail fell silent, her mouth slightly open as if she was hoping for a proper response to flow out as effortlessly as they seemingly did for everybody else, but nothing of the sort was heard. She felt like a fool, stunned by the most simple gesture of kindness like it was the first time anybody had been nice to her. After clearing her throat and taking a deep breath, she simply nodded and reached forward to grab Metzli's hand. Their skin was… pleasantly cool, as was her own, one of the several perks that death brought her physiology. "Thank you." She whispered with a strange warmth to her shy tone.

“Honey was first friend. Reason I escape where I was.” Metzli’s eyes grew distant, glazing over as they stared through the intertwined hands. They nodded absentmindedly, almost missing Abigail’s gratitude. “Friend is kind. I like her. She explains many things to me.” Abigail’s skin was definitely cold, and they’d felt it before during the dance, but there was so much going on that Metzli missed it for the most part. Was Abigail a vampire too?

Thoughts of a kinder, more free clan came to mind; something Sofie surely would want. They could introduce the vampire to her, but like Leila, Abigail could be a completely different kind of undead. So, what was she? Metzli bowed their head, giving Abigail’s hand an experimental squeeze. “Welcome.” They loosened their grip, giving Abigail the option to keep their hands together or release them. “May I ask what you are?”

"As all friends should be." Abigail offered a small nod as if she completely understood, however, she had yet to fully process what Metzli had said. Once she finally did, it became agonizingly difficult to not ask for clarification about just where Metzli had escaped from. It was impossible to tell from behind her mask, but she was fighting an intense internal battle about whether to mind her own business or search for the potentially juicy details. Luckily for her, a distraction was thrown at her by Metzli in the form of their own question.

Abigail assumed that the loosened grip was a signal that she should let go, a signal she was grateful for, since she didn't have to worry about lingering for too long. She had no idea that it was just an option, but reading social cues had never been her strong suit, hence why she avoided non-business-related social interactions. Their question gave her pause, specifically about what exactly it was that they meant to ask. Did Metzli want to know what type of creature she was, or did they want to know what she was in a more philosophical sense? Nono, that certainly couldn't have been it. After a moment of awkward silence, she responded bluntly and honestly, as was natural for her. "I am a Fury, have been for 10 years. What are you?"

That was different. Metzli had never heard of furies. Mares, vampires, and zombies? Yeah, those were common to them, as they’d caught a few mares themself when they traveled around Mexico, even discovering that they’d been fed on for a time in their early youth. “What is a Fury?” They titled their head like a curious pup, staring intensely at the eyes of Abigail’s mask. There were more questions that followed the first, though they figured it’d be best to hold back. Their brain on the other hand, didn’t care about that.

“How does creation happen? Do you feed on people? What powers do you have?” More questions wanted to tumble out, but Metzli managed to stop themself. They looked up, tapping their foot nervously. They knew they had overstepped, likely overwhelming Abigail. It wasn’t fair of them to do that to her. “Apology to you. Was too curious.” Their thumb rubbed against their index finger, the friction a calming sensation.

Abigail couldn’t help but let a soft, genuine chuckle escape her in response to Metzli’s burst of curiosity. It was refreshing to know that she wasn’t the only one who had a hard time bottling up what would normally make others uncomfortable. “Don’t apologize. I’m happy to answer your questions, so long as my answers stay mostly between the two of us.” She’d never had to explain what she was to somebody before, since most of the time the people that she had told what she was either didn’t care or already knew the answer to that question.

“To my knowledge, I was made when I was killed and brought back to life due to an intense desire for revenge against my murderer.” Her answer spilled forth before the memory of what happened could cloud her mind, flashes of blood with a distant echo of screaming leaving her momentarily distracted. There was no way in hell she’d go into detail about her death, not with how angry just the thought alone made her. There were times that Abigail wished that the memories could make her sad instead, that she could cry about what she’d been forced to do, but all she could manage to muster towards her final moments was rage.

The silence that filled the air during Abigail’s distant thoughts wasn’t strange for her. Only after realizing her moment of weakness did she take a quiet breath and return to her explanation. Metzli had been waiting patiently, so she didn’t want to keep them waiting longer. “I can alter reality to fulfill the desires of somebody with a strong enough need for vengeance, which is how I ‘feed’.”

“Secrets are safe with me.” They promised, happy to see Abigail seemed to actually enjoy Metzli’s curiosity.

The fury’s explanation was full of sorrow and intrigue. Her world delved into dimensions and alternate universes. What she could do sounded like it came straight out of a comic book. At that point, Metzli knew this because Cass had given them plenty of reading material to study. Abigail was similar to the Scarlet Witch in that regard, and only that regard. Metzli hadn’t read too much about the witch’s backstory, but they had a feeling she wasn’t murdered by someone and resurrected by the sheer will for vengeance.

“Interesting.” Abigail’s silence didn’t spark anything in Metzli. They didn’t see anything wrong with a few breaths between sentences. Most of the time, they welcomed such a reprieve, and in that moment, they did. There was no concept of Abigail being weak or strange. Just two quiet people being…well, quiet.

“Do you sense anger for when you need to find food? Like…” Metzli tapped their chin, thinking of a similar experience of theirs. “I can smell very good. Smell blood. How do you find meal?”

“I feel anger and the desire for revenge when they’re strong enough in somebody.” Taking another moment to gather her thoughts, Abigail lifted her head to glance up at the night sky, if only briefly. She found the stars quite pretty, especially the constellations within them, but that was something she could focus on later. She’d finally found the words she was searching for so intensely. “I feel it like when you put your hand near a closed oven, almost like rippling waves.”

If she were in Metzli’s place, Abigail would want them to explain everything as best as she could, leaving her with an underlying worry of not saying enough to satiate their hungry curiosity. Of course, she was worried about everything at all times, so what was one more concern among so many others. “Unlike others, I try to be helpful with my abilities. I don’t offer help to those who will be harmed by the outcome. At least, I try not to. I’ve been… tricked before.”

The more Abigail spoke, the more Metzli’s heart wanted to bleed the blues with the broken strings that made up their heart. Ultimately, they felt nothing. Despite not knowing Abigail very well, they knew she deserved more than that, deserved for the ache of empathy so she wouldn’t have to be alone. Death was painful, a never ending darkness that most only got to experience once. But not them.

Metzli supposed, in a way, they were lucky in spite of the pain. There was a second chance they now had, a new purpose. They hadn’t found theirs yet, something outside the clan, but it looked to them that Abigail had one. A merciful one. “That is noble. I am sorry you were tricked.” Metzli’s brows cinched together as they strung their words together to voice their thought. “I guess you…you cannot feel anything from me then?” They had an inkling of a feeling she wouldn’t detect anything even if they had a hatred for Eloy and his teachings. Nothing begets nothing, and Metzli was filled with nothing. Emotions were a fickle thing, always fleeting away.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.” Abigail knew that they weren’t apologizing out of guilt, rather, they were doing so out of some kind of sympathy, but she couldn’t help but clear away the compassionate words. It was her failure, with repercussions that she had to fight through on her own to make up for her stupidity. There were few things that she’d done that she was overly hard on herself about, and letting somebody deceive her into cursing herself was certainly among the worst of them. “It was my fault, but now I know to be more careful.”

“I feel something coming off you, but it’s not enough that you would stand out in a crowd from feeling alone.” There was something especially subdued about the way Metzli seemed to feel, like their ability to feel their hatred was less than most. In all honesty, they would be more likely to stand out in this town from a lack of anger than an excess, but there was no way Abigail would tell them that. If they were anything like her, knowing that they’d stand out in a crowd was not information that would be helpful or wanted. “When I’m looking to feed, normally it’s off of people who have an incredibly fresh and deep need for revenge.”

Standing out in a crowd when it pertained to feelings being sensed didn’t seem so bad. For the vampire, it would be even further confirmation that something lay beneath the surface. But, much to Metzli’s dismay, there was something still subduing it all. They wanted to feel sad about that, or at the very least frustrated, but nothing sparked. Nothing. As always. Fitting for something as insignificant as them.

“Has sense.” Metzli nodded, expression unchanging as they swallowed. “I already have my revenge. Nothing to do now but…exist.” Looking off into the night, Metzli cleared their throat, taking in how much calmer they felt than before. Maybe it was time to depart. Try again another time. “Think I should go home. Do you want to come with?” They squeezed their hands closed repeatedly, eager to hear Abigail’s response. “Can show you my dog. Art too.”

“I get it. Everything feels like getting revenge will fix the hurt, but it just leaves the hole behind where that rage once sat. Nothing tells you how to fill it.” Abigail’s revenge on her killer had left her a husk, lost with anger that drowned her with no escape. It should have made her feel ecstatic, or fulfilled, but it didn’t, it never did, and her job now was to teach others that it would do the same to them. What a strange role it was, to guide others to a well of possibilities only to have them drink it and realize that it was filled with salt, leaving them wanting more despite already having all that they could. It was a special hell just for her, with the cost of immortality being that she had to be both the teacher and the torturer.

“Nothing to do now but live. That hole in your heart won’t mend itself, only you and time can do that.”

That wasn’t a realization that gave her pause though. Abigail was constantly aware of the position she held, painfully so, but she never let it stop her. If she suddenly stopped, she would starve, and lessons would go unlearned, so onwards she continued, never to stop, much like a shark, her second favorite animal. Dogs were okay though. “Sure, I’d love to see your art, and your dog. Want to ride with me and give me directions, or would you rather walk?” Abigail rocked on the heels of her thick combat boots, jostling the strange alley water as she did so, creating small ripples. In reality, she paid no mind to the light splashing of the water even though she normally would, because something more promising and interesting had her undivided attention.

Metzli nodded along to Abigail’s words, finding comfort in the way she explained. There was a hidden pain that wove itself around each syllable, and they closed their eyes to listen fully. There was always a burden with these things, the purpose of one’s ascension to a new species. Much like a heart, it bore a weight that few wanted to carry, but did so anyway. There was no other choice. Metzli knew better than anyone that that right was taken away the moment they died. Regardless of the second chance they got, it didn’t feel like a fair trade, but there was nothing to do but make it work.

“I drove here.” Their eyes scanned down to their hands, which were still trembling. As much as Metzli didn’t want to leave their car somewhere overnight, they thought perhaps it was best if they didn’t drive. “I ride with you and show you directions.” Closing their hands into fists and pocketing them, Metzli tensed and released their shoulders, looking to Abigail. She was easy to be around. “Where is your car?”

Abigail let out a soft chuckle in response to the assumption they’d made. She couldn’t blame them, after all she would’ve assumed the same thing from somebody who offered her a ride. Slowly, she walked with them to the parking lot, and corrected their guess with a simple gesture towards the motorcycle she’d ridden to the bar. “Not a car. Sorry to disappoint.” Despite her somewhat monotone manner of speaking, she intended for it to sound a bit teasing and sarcastic, even if it didn’t sound that way. Things she said rarely came out the way she wanted them to. After all, that was most of the reason she tried her best to avoid talking.

Before she could consciously give it a second thought, Abigail retrieved the helmet hanging from one of the handlebars and tossed it over to Metzli. Cool people did that in movies all the time, she thought, before she realized mid air that Metzli might not be able to catch it without warning. Unfortunately it was out of her hands now, both literally and metaphorically, leaving their safety up to them. If anything, it would be an interesting test of vampiric reflexes.

It was difficult to discern why Abigail would think a motorcycle would be disappointing. Really, Metzli just felt foolish for assuming her mode of transportation. But there was something subtle in Abigail’s voice. A minute slip in the monotone that sounded as if she might have spoken with the smallest of smiles. In other words, Metzli understood she was joking. This, along with the toss of the helmet brought a smile to their lips, and they caught the helmet with one hand.

“I have never feel so much disappointment.�� They returned her sarcasm, offering her safety equipment back. “Have no need for this. Safe without it.” Metzli watched Abigail take perch on the bike, and they mimicked her movements, wrapping their arm around her waist as they had seen in movies. Sure, it was used as a safety measure, but there was usually an undertone of affection to it. Though that wasn’t the case for the two undead.

The engine roared to life, and Metzli leaned forward to secure themself, watching as the light disappeared behind them. The chilly evening air blew away everything, even their thoughts. Which wasn’t good considering they were supposed to be giving Abigail directions. Oh well, Metzli thought. The two could enjoy the air a little longer.

#interactions #writings #Abigail #Metzli #parental death tw #the spectrum

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skiptomy · 1 year

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another of the trio! Commission info can be found in my pinned post!

#verse; wicked's rest #metzli #eilidh #abigail #skiptomy doodles #skiptomy art #commissions #commission

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kayipavci · 2 years

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@deathisanartmetzli [pm] What? What do you mean?

[…]

Mexican?

[pm] Metzli you know that’s not what I meant. I’m surprised I didn’t pick up on the lack of heartbeat before. It’s not something I normally listen for.

#metzli #c metzli

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lilian-adamson · 2 years

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@deathisanartmetzli

[pm] More like cursed and haunted paintings. I curate them on occasion and have an assortment hidden in my gallery. Do you think this could post a problem eventually? Even with my wards?

[pm] Ah. There’s always a chance that they can, but it really would come down to how they are haunted/cursed. I’d have to see them to know for sure. The safe choice really varies with the object. Some of them need to be broken to break the haunting/curse which wouldn’t be optimal for you and some can be exorcised without hurting the piece. Some of them you can’t do anything other than ward them up like you’re doing. So It depends on if anything is happening, and how much you know about it.

As long as you know what their curse or whats haunting it, and you’re diligent about checking on them they are probably okay for at least now. Especially if you aren’t displaying them to the public.

Have they done anything noteworthy?

#metzli

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oceansrevenge · 2 years

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@deathisanartmetzli [pm] Just saw the letters “m” and “a” and thought it was Macleod. An honest mistake. Wasn’t trying to […] bother[d:?] you or anything.

Uh, I didn’t really have anything in mind. Was just trying to find something to do. Macleod tends to have the best ideas.

[pm] Ah, yes, your partner. I reached out and look forward to meeting her. [...] Since when are you not trying to bother me? I thought we established that was part of your charm. Either way, you are not bothering me.

I am starting to feel a bit better. My idea of fun usually involves drowning people. But I would not be opposed to a bit of violence on land. Or drinks. I recently discovered margaritas and am rather taken with them.

#metzli

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 2 years

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Fury & Flesh || Coyote Exorcism || Emilio, Jude, Metzli, and Kaden

TIMING: Same time as Spirit & Bone LOCATION: The woods near Regan’s death mound PARTIES: @monstersfear, @deathbecomes-jude, @deathisanartmetzli, @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden and Jude go to Regan’s death mound while the exorcism is happening in the cabin, hoping to draw the coyotes away. Emilio and Metzli end up in the same place so they all get to meet some angry spectral coyotes. CONTENT WARNINGS: Animal cruelty (mentioned/implied)

Emilio took a long drag from his cigarette, trudging along through the woods and keeping an ear open for nearby danger. He didn’t expect to find any. The paranoia that lived within the hunter’s chest tended to be reserved for him and him alone, uncaring of Regan’s problems or her claims that the world was out to get her. Of course, every time he’d assumed in the past that no one gave a shit about bones as much as Regan did, someone had come along to prove him wrong. Maybe eventually, Emilio would learn his lesson there.

Maybe it would be today.

He barely heard it. They were moving quietly, but not quietly enough to avoid being heard by the sharp ears of a hunter, especially not one as constantly vigilant and on edge as Emilio was. The snapping of a branch, so quiet it was barely a noise at all. Emilio stiffened, tensing as his eyes quickly swept the surrounding area to see — there.

“Might as well come out,” he said dryly, voice carrying in the otherwise quiet forest. “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

–

Jude carefully crept closer to the hut Regan was supposedly in. On their back, a large backpack full of bones weighed down on them, on their arms, dozens of runes inscribed in blood, needing just a last line to finish any number of pre-prepared spells. Both of healing and to cause wounds. They just needed to draw the attention of the shadow coyotes and bait them while the exorcist did her work. In and out, kept safe by the others, and if they failed, well… Jude had a backup sacrifice ready to go.

As they spotted a figure roaming, they looked back to Kaden in surprise. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here. It was the hunter that had felt the waves of death coming off Jude, Emilio. Hopefully… it was just a coincidence, and they were just out hunting… well, the kind of beings Jude had brought with them. This could be problematic.

Emilio turned to look at their direction, and spoke into the woods. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be able to sense an undead presence nearby, so Jude figured they’d give him something to sense, just to drag him away if his presence was a coincidence, and to keep him occupied if it wasn’t. They wordlessly and subtly tugged at the marionette strings of their magic, and held their breath, looking to Kaden for their cue.

Twenty feet away, a half rotten porcupine ambled through the forest, not being quiet as it snuffled for some food it didn’t need.

–

Metzli’s hand twitched on the branch of the tree they were in, thinking that Emilio had caught them. They smiled then, seeing the stranger act on such short notice. A distraction, red-herring that they were sure wouldn’t deter the slayer. They quirked a brow in thought. It was very possible he could be swindled into thinking he didn’t survey his area correctly. After all, they’d manage to follow him even with his innate ability to sense them. Taking a deep breath, they could smell the aroma of death surrounding them, both rotten and fresh. More like dirt than putrefied flesh. Smelled like home. But they couldn’t get lost in the musings of their safe dwelling. Danger was near, and they needed to get ahead of it.

Propelling themselves from the tree, their silhouette broke through the treeline, the moon hitting them with its glow. “You’re really lacking in the surveillance skills lately. Can’t believe you caught a dead porcupine and not me.” They landed in a crouch, with the biggest shit-eating grin they could muster. “Got anything I can break?”

–

This would work. Kaden was sure of it. It had to work. Lil would find Regan, do the exorcism, no one would explode from a banshee scream, it’d be fine.

He had a feelling, though, that the heaping pile of carcasses that he could smell from a good half a mile away wasn’t fine. “This way,” he told Jude as they walked towards the death mound. He wasn’t sure what the deal was with this coyote spirit or what exactly it was trying to get Regan to do, but he was pretty sure if something bad was going to happen outside of the cabin that might mess shit up, it was going to happen there. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable carrying his weapons again, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He was even less comfortable working with the necromancer who caused all this shit in the first place but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. “Should be–”

His words caught on his lips as he shut them tight to listen. Footsteps, small crunching leaves. He held his arm out to stop Jude from moving any farther. They stood still, but it was clear whoever or whatever was out there wasn’t walking away, but towards them. When he caught sight of who it was, he rolled his eyes. Should have known he’d be nearby. Kaden really didn’t want to hurt the guy too bad, but he was going to have no qualms kicking his ass a little after the crap he dragged Ari into. He’d buy him a drink later to make up for it, it’d be fine.

Kaden’s focus shot to the clearly once dead porcupine that was resurrected and shuffling not too far away, The ranger shot a glance at Jude and thought about punching them square in the jaw. Not yet. He needed them. That’d also have to be for later. “You. Make sure there are no other cursed bones over there,” he whispered to Jude.

He took a deep breath and stepped out from their place behind the trees, holding his hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t trying to be sneaky, connard,” he said, casually as he could manage. “What are you doing out here, any–” Just as Kaden was about to take a step forward, a figure fell from the trees above. “What the–” That was the vampire, right? Metzli. And they seemed familiar with the slayer. His brow knit as he cautiously approached, slowly reaching for the knife at his side, completely unsure what he was getting into.

–

The snapping twigs weren’t the only thing that clued him in to another presence; there was that twitch at the back of his neck, that unmistakable sense that told him something undead was near. The problem, of course, was the giant fucking mound of dead shit Regan had set up nearby. The first time he met her, she’d been pretty fucking set on the idea of nabbing the vampire he was fighting and taking it to her ‘death mound.’ For all Emilio knew, there were undead things buried beneath the bodies she’d collected, throwing his senses all over the place. He might have told her as much if he thought there was any possibility she’d listen.

Another branch snapped and, acting on instinct, the slayer tossed a knife in its direction, turning his head to follow the blade. It landed in front of… a fucking reanimated porcupine. Christ. What the fuck was wrong with people? He pulled another knife, ready to put the thing out of its misery, when a familiar voice sounded off from behind him. Immediately, Emilio tensed.

The Frenchman showing up was exactly the kind of shit Regan was paranoid about. Emilio hated this town, a little, for continuing to prove her delusions about everyone being after her damn bones correct. He turned to snap something at Kaden, to start in a pointless argument where he’d tell the guy to leave, he’d refuse, and they’d punch each other until something changed, but before he could get a word out, someone else dropped down.

This, Emilio thought, really wasn’t his night.

With Kaden on one side of him and Metzli on the other, Emilio was beginning to feel boxed in. And, like a wild animal, he didn’t take to the feeling well. He pulled out a knife in one hand, a stake in the other, and glanced wildly between the two. The distraction, though partially unintentional, was a good one; with two people to focus on, Emilio was unaware of the third presence nearby, the necromancer who was playing with his senses in the same way Metzli and that damn porcupine were.

“What, you two teaming up now?” He knew, even as he asked it, that the answer to the question was no. Kaden seemed surprised by Metzli’s presence, and Emilio doubted the ranger was a decent actor. “Leave. Both of you.” His eyes darted to Kaden. “Regan’s not here to keep me from kicking your ass this time, asshole.”

—

Jude met Kaden’s gaze without flinching, just a tiny shrug as if to ask what he expected.

Unnoticed so far, Jude crept past the encounter, staying low and sticking as close to trees as they could. As far as they’d known, it was just Kaden and them on this, but another figure approached the group, and the tense lines in everyone’s shoulders made it clear this was no happy reunion. Jude reached the edge of the mound of corpses, nose barely wrinkling as they were almost unphased by the stench of death, and slowly slinked behind it until they were entirely hidden from the view of the trio. They smiled as they noticed a moose carcass, recently dragged onto the mound. Regan had found it on her walk after all. No cursed bones to speak of, though.

The resurrected porcupine could have been a distraction for Emilio, but as it was no longer needed in that regard, Jude let it continue to bumble through the forest near the mound, neither interfering with the scene nor returning to them, as if it was just a visitor that was as drawn to the pile of death as much as the maggots and worms. They could barely hear the three voices as they pulled bundles of spell components out of their bag, but no one was coming closer, at once a blessing and a gift. They hurriedly arranged threads of string into runes and candles into pentacles, rats tails tied like ribbons around bone. glancing to and from their watch as the seconds ticked past. Ten seconds, fifteen. It was only through prior hours of preparation that the spell came together as quickly as it did.

Technically, they’d agreed that damaging the mound would be enough to draw out the coyotes. If this had gone without a hitch, they might have stuck with that, them and Kaden punching a hole through some skulls. But there were two unknowns involved now, and Kaden was occupied with them. Jude could use another ally on their side, and they were out of time. The exorcism was due to start.

This cheap semblance of animation didn’t require any real sacrifice more than what had already been made in preparing the bundled spell components. All Jude had to do was thrust their hand in the decaying viscera of a nearby fox and drain the life out of a hundred freshly hatched maggots. White light crackled through the mound of decay.

Bones of the moose began to assemble like grizzle covered parts of a lego toy.

–

Just as quickly as they showed up, so too did other parties. Metzli didn’t like surprises, the sudden shift prompting them to unlatch their holster and pull their knife out in one swift motion. Kaden was with the stranger they’d already spotted and of course the two hunters knew one another. Murderers always ran in the same circles. Was why Metzli knew both of them in the first place. “Like hell I’d team up with this shitty hunter. He couldn’t kick my ass on a good day and I’d kick his now if I could.” Pulling the knife from Kaden, they steadied it closer to their body. Just in case. “But, I’m playing nice since he’s buddy-buddy with Macleod.” They blew a raspberry, and waved Kaden away in hopes of giving everyone some distance.

“I take it you two have tangoed with each other.” Eyes shifted between the two in amusement, and they bit their lip to stifle a laugh. If there was more time, Metzli would’ve taken the opportunity to pick on both, but they didn’t. They managed to break two bones, and while the vampire didn’t know much about anatomy, they knew there were definitely more than two bones in a skeleton. “Well, that’s the least of my problems. Emilio, whatever you’re protecting, I need it. And I won’t take no for an answer.” Rolling their eyes with a smile, they landed and stopped on Jude. Every note off of them reeked of magic—of a type of necromancy. Something they had just experienced themself. Only, this mocked death, and even the lives of creatures who once held breath in their lungs. It was like they were spitting on them.

Sucking their teeth, Metzli dropped their knife to their side and backed away from everyone. Whatever was happening, they needed space to ensure they could assess properly. Especially with their impulsive need to annoy. Not even their soul could change that. “Ay! Tú,” Pointing a finger at Jude, they peered around Kaden and narrowed their eyes suspiciously. “Why are you messing with that pobre moose?”

–

“Putain, teaming up?” Kaden didn’t have a chance to be insulted before there was a knife held up towards him. From the vampire. Who was sporting one less arm than the last time he’d seen them. The ranger’s head tilted as he paused instead of slapping the weapon out of his face. They did have both arms the last time he saw them, right? It had been dark and all, but he was pretty damn sure. “Hey!” he shouted back as Metzli insulted him, pulling his own knife out, ready to go. “I could take you in a second, connard. I was just being gracious that time in the alley, got i– Wait?” His hand dropped slightly at the familiar name. “You know Macleod?” Huh. Guess this was a small town. Weirder yet was the thought that Macleod actually referred to him in any manner that was favorable. Kaden liked her well enough but he just assumed she didn’t care that much for him overall. Huh. Guess that was nice.

The nice feelings didn’t last very long. “Tangoed?” Kaden huffed out a laugh. “If you mean he tried to break into my fucking apartment for a goddamn bone, sure, yeah, we tangoed.” Kaden wasn’t sure who he was looking forward to decking first. Did the plan involve him punching anyone? No, not necessarily. He still planned to all the same. “Wait, you think I need her help? Putain de merde, if anyone needed her help it was you.” Yeah, he was definitely throwing punches before this was over. “I’m not leaving. You lea–”

His focus shifted as his head turned back towards Jude and the very dead moose that was somehow back on all fours. Kaden’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the necromancer. They were on the same side. They were on the same side. If he kept saying that, maybe he’d remember that. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing with that moose yet, but he knew he didn’t want to be on the other side of those antlers. He had to work with the necromancer who tortured animals. He had to work with them. For now.

A scream pierced through the clearing, all the way from the cabin. Kaden winced, the sound pounding in his ears. They were a half a mile off from the cabin. The scream had to be loud. Regan was in trouble. A pit sunk in his stomach, instincts telling him to turn and run towards the sound. No, no. Regan wasn’t in trouble. The coyote was. He hoped. He had to help here. He had to make sure Emilio didn’t interrupt. And with the shock of the scream, he figured he had a second. A second that he took to grab Emilio closer and slam his fist into the slayer’s jaw. Now who needed Regan’s help?

–

If the look on Metzli’s face and the knife in their hand were anything to go by, they weren’t working with Kaden. Unfortunately, that didn’t exactly make them an ally, either. Emilio knew the vampire was here with one goal in mind, just as they had been at the cabin when they’d broken those damn bones and left him floundering. There was no version of this story that ended well for him; there never was. Kaden and Metzli might not have come here together, but it was clear they were on the same side nonetheless. And that side was the one that was going to fuck up Emilio’s life over some goddamn bones. Christ. He should’ve left this town when he had the fucking chance.

“If you weren’t a stubborn fucking ass too obsessed with his ex to let go of a couple of worthless goddamn bones, I wouldn’t have had to break in,” he protested, as if Kaden was somehow wrong to be upset here. Emilio knew he didn’t have much of a leg to stand on in this particular argument, but he was stubborn and angry and stupid enough to argue anyway. He usually was. “I can’t leave, you stupid — “

He broke off as Metzli shouted at something behind them, whirled around to look with the hand holding the knife at the ready. His attention was split three ways now, and in spite of the magic causing its own kind of a distraction, he didn’t have to squint to recognize the third figure in the circle. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Who else was going to come out of the woodwork here? The guy he’d punched at the bar? The aquarium security guard? Levi? It was like a fucking class reunion of Emilio’s recent physical altercations.

And then — a scream from the cabin. Emilio whirled around, going against instinct and turning his back on all three of the ‘enemies’ in his vicinity to look back in the direction of the cabin instead. Regan was screaming, which meant Regan was in trouble. Which meant, as per the fucking promise he was tied up in, Emilio needed to go. The crowd here was a distraction; he should have realized it sooner.

He only managed half a step towards the cabin before Kaden yanked him close enough to throw a punch, landing his knuckles against the side of Emilio’s face with enough force to cause the slayer to stumble backwards. That faint but still present self preservation instinct told him to take off towards the cabin, but as usual, the anger that burned in his chest was a little hotter. He took a swing at Kaden, no thought going into the action at all. The knife had been dropped, though it was hard to say if it was an intentional move to keep him from accidentally stabbing a guy he didn’t actually want to stab or a happy accident. He wasn’t really considering it. The only thing on his mind was how much he wanted to hit Kaden in the fucking face. As soon as the ranger had a bruise on his jaw to match the one on Emilio’s, he could take off towards the cabin and figure out how to stop whatever was going on with Regan. His priorities were just fine, as always.

—

Jude swayed from the exertion of the spell, and looked over at the group as one of them addressed Jude in Spanish. They cocked an eyebrow. “Making friends!” They replied, trying to meet Kaden’s eyes. Every second that this spell kept the moose animated, the coyotes were more and more of a risk. And with as many coyotes due as they suspected were coming, they needed Kaden here. Their moose was a glass cannon, and the porcupine wasn’t what anyone would call agile. They met his narrowed eyes, and pursed their lips. He’d have to get over it. Once the medical examiner was free, they’d meet whatever youthful judgement they were owed then.

Before the coyotes came the scream. Loud and piercing, as if it was someone right beside them. Jude spun on the mound, but there was no one there. Another ghost, maybe? In their pocket was a pouch of salt that they wielded in front of them, swinging it firmly around, but any ghost made no appearance.

The scream also roused a response from the group, but unlike Jude, they seemed to recognise it immediately, a thought that made their stomach drop. They watched Emilio try to leave, Kaden take a swing at his face, and wondered where the third one stood. Hopefully, with them.

As the fist fest began, the air temperature around Jude began to drop, and apparitions began to appear around them. One, after another after another.

A dozen growling spectral coyotes, ears pinned to the back of their head, teeth bared. A dozen pairs of eyes starving for revenge.

“I’ve got company over here!”

—

Metzli stood between the men, dumbfounded by the amount of density the two created with what they saw as stupidity. Really they were just impatient, over the situation they had volunteered themself for to save their friend. Having a conscience really put a wrench in their self-preservation, but they didn’t mind too much. Not when their decision brought the opportunity to mess with two hunters. They at least had that going for them. “Of course I know Macleod. She’s my partner. And you,” They shifted their focus toward Emilio, but soon found that the attempt to speak was futile when they both went into attack mode.

As the two idiots duked out whatever pissing contest they began, Metzli honed in on Jude instead. “Okay, so you’re making friends. I’m guessing if you’re with this idiot, you’re here to—” To fight something. But they didn’t have time to voice that or seek an answer. The piercing scream from the cabin made them nauseous almost instantly. Everything happened at once, coming together in a jarring crescendo. The likes of which matched the all too familiar scream. Regan was either killing someone or in pain. Both scenarios made Metzli’s stomach wrench in a way that made their body twitch. Enough to step forward to get to their friend, but again, there was another interruption. “Puta madre. Que chingados—okay. Okay.” The hairs on their neck bristled and they slipped their knife back into its holster, only to retrieve another. An iron one that Macleod had given them.

“Don’t worry chiquitín,” Metzli remarked toward Jude, standing in front of them. “I can cover you so long as you cover me a little, chale?” They gritted their teeth and let out a growl, baring their own teeth in return to the coyotes. Each spectral beast’s body language screamed threats, but the vampire’s were just as loud, not caving into fear because there was none to feel. They just hoped Kaden and Emilio would get their shit together long enough to fight with them.

–

The satisfaction of decking the slayer in the face didn’t last long. It was quickly replaced with the pain of knuckles slamming into his own jaw. Putain de merde. Kaden saw it coming, but he wasn’t pleased with it all the same. He reeled back at the punch and was about to throw himself back into the fight when he felt a wash of cold air rush past just before he heard Jude’s cry.

Shit. The fucking coyotes were here. He had to help contain them, but he definitely had to make sure Emilio wasn’t going anywhere, either. Kaden stomped his heel down at the slayer’s foot and threw his elbow towards him, hoping to slow the slayer enough to give the ranger time to help his necromantic companion. If nothing else, he hoped it’d piss him off long enough to stick around.

Kaden turned to see Metzli ready to ward off the shadowy coyotes that had set their sights straight on Jude. Putain, that was one pissed off coyote. If it wasn’t possessing Regan, he had a feeling he would be on its side.

But that wasn’t the present situation, so the ranger charged towards the spectres, reaching for the stupid pack of salt Lil convinced him to carry around after their last encounter. He tossed a few pieces at one or two of them. Pits formed in their wispy shapes as they turned towards Kaden, growling and teeth bared. He readied his knife as they sprinted for him, fangs headed straight for his ankles.

How the hell ghosts were able to sink in and yank his leg, he didn’t know, but he didn’t have time to question, simply slashed out at the one on his leg, digging his knife into its back and giving it a twist. Kaden twisted to face the second beast, ready to stab the spectral creature before it leapt at him. Only he saw a flash of gold. The eyes. It couldn’t—

He faltered just long enough for the claws to dig into him, sending him backwards as the other tried to drag his leg forwards.

–

The coyotes arrived soon after the scream and with them came the familiar pounding in the slayer’s chest. He’d really only had one experience with the coyotes, the first night he’d met Regan, but he remembered it well. Well enough that she’d found them an effective threat to use against him in the time since, even if she hadn’t followed through on it. Logically, he knew they were playing for the same team here, even if he wasn’t exactly as willing a participant as the ghostly canines seemed to be, but the quiet prickle of fear on the back of his neck remained despite the logic. He didn’t envy Jude, who seemed to be the coyotes’ primary target here… but he was glad to know someone else was in their sightlines. That suited him just fine.

The fact that they provided an adequate distraction for Kaden was a plus, too.

The ranger turned towards the necromancer, and as much as Emilio wanted to continue their altercation, he knew he needed to take his chance and make a break for it to find out what the hell they were here to keep him from interrupting. There was some guilt with it, of course — he was doing everything in his power to stop a group of people from helping their friend here — but it couldn’t be helped. As per usual, Emilio had to lay in the bed he’d made for himself whether he liked it or not.

Of course, Kaden couldn’t make it easy on him. A heel slammed down on his foot, an elbow found his ribs with enough accuracy to knock the air from his lungs, and Emilio let out a frustrated grunt as he stumbled backwards. Kaden was gone before he could retaliate, but since the damn coyotes seemed pretty intent on tearing the ranger to shreds, Emilio figured any punches he threw would be overkill, anyway. He paused for a moment, the old instinct to help a fellow hunter who was clearly in need of a hand fighting against the promise bind tugging him back towards the cabin. Kaden was an asshole, but he was only here because he was trying to save someone he loved. So was Metzli. Maybe Jude was, too, though Emilio didn’t know for sure on that one. Either way, leaving the three of them for coyote bait felt wrong. But…

Emilio had people he loved, too. And he couldn’t keep them safe if he was dealing with whatever consequences this promise would make him pay if broken.

He’d get Regan to call the coyotes off once he got to her. She’d agree, anyway; he’d seen clearly enough at Kaden’s apartment that she didn’t want to hurt her ex, tested the waters a little by asking her about him after. Whatever was possessing her had a strong hold, but she was still capable of containing it long enough to make sure the people she cared about were okay, and Kaden still landed pretty high on that list. He got the sense Metzli did, too. When he explained what was going on, she’d call the coyotes back and everyone would be fine.

Hoping the coyotes would provide a sufficient distraction to make up for the fact that there was no way he’d be moving quickly after Kaden’s last attack, Emilio turned back towards the cabin and attempted to slip away.

—

Chiquitin. The word made Jude smile, and they nodded in agreement. Cover for cover.

Surrounded with a hunter, a one armed individual with blood in their eyes, a skeletal moose and a mummified porcupine, they felt the first vestiges of the possibility of success. Until they didn’t. Kaden dragged down, Emilio turning instead of helping. They yanked on the necrotic threads of life force for the porcupine, sending it barreling towards Kaden. Iron threads had carefully been twisted around many of its keratinous spikes, so while it was slow, when it reached them, the iron spikes dragged holes through the spectral coyotes. If mist could hiss and sputter like a boiling kettle, that was what these coyotes did, starting to melt into nothing.

Jude snarled, pulling pen from pocket. They looked down at their bared arms, covered in almost-finished spells that just needed an extra pen-stroke to complete. Only as many spells prepared as they had skin bared, and the resurrection had been a big one. They drew a last line on another spell they had prepared, as white light crackled from the veins in their wrist along to their fingertips, and jumped into Kaden, a healing spell to get him back up. It slithered around the bite strangely, as if even the spell was confused by the lack of huge gaping holes in Kaden’s legs.

Unfortunately, the coyotes didn’t wait for Jude to be ready for the next attack. A dozen deaths demanded a dozen revenges, as four pounced right for Jude’s body. Their moose, tasked only with the responsibility of keeping Jude alive, barreled into the party, antlers down as it tried to gore the coyotes with limited success, just knocking Jude off their feet and onto their ass. The coyotes’ lips curled before pouncing at the moose, scattering bones as it fell apart like a jenga tower.

“Shit!” Jude grabbed a giant femur, pushing it into the mouth of one of the coyotes. The moose bones rattled and tried to reassemble themselves without the femur, but the bone in Jude’s hand was already beginning to crack.

–

It didn’t take a genius to see that the group was fucked based on numbers alone. But Metzli never was that bright, and they always took being backed into a wall as a challenge. A battle to see who had the hardest head. They’d given enough knockout blows with their noggin that it didn’t seem too far out there to turn the odds back in their favor. Despite how Kaden seemed to be down for the count, they were willing to persist. Having weathered so many storms, Metzli had become one themself. With a core like a volcano that filled them with a cache of pain just waiting to be unleashed upon their enemies. Because of this, they had a way with monsters. Such as the coyotes that dared instigate a fight.

Cocking their knife back, Metzli whispered their hope and anger into their attack, splitting their worries with a feverish battle cry. The spectral beasts at Kaden’s legs dissipated with the iron, but they didn’t know for how long, and they didn’t have time to ponder. They just hoped it wasn’t a lethally permanent wound. For Regan’s sake, at the very least. They didn’t think she’d be able to forgive herself if she was an accessory to Kaden’s demise. Luckily, the spellcaster that had come along with the warden had a few tricks, mocking the coyote’s attacks and undoing them right before their eyes. Metzli smiled excitedly, the alert in their chest warming up the hope as they watched the tides shift ever so slightly.

With that motivation, they holstered their knife and charged toward Emilio. Their arm wrapped tightly around his legs and stopped him in his tracks, preventing him from doing the one thing he was bound to do. Metzli’s heart ached to know they were damning him, but that hope was a blaze and they had to believe that it would all be okay. It all happened so fast anyway. They barely had time to think. He wouldn’t understand, but undoing his perspective couldn’t be a priority when lives were on the line.

“Emilio! ¡Ya!” Metzli exclaimed, desperately trying to keep him pinned. “You’re gonna get everyone killed! Stop fighting this! ” Limbs grew frantic to keep the slayer down, realizing the trouble Jude was about to be in as they occupied themself with Emilio. Their reanimated guards were failing, fast, and Metzli knew they were next. The coyotes circled the pair, and they shielded Emilio with their body, unsure if they coyotes saw him as an ally.

“Kaden! Get to your friend! I’ve got it over here!” Or so they hoped.

–

Putain. Kaden didn’t expect to die by shadow coyote and he wasn’t even sure it was possible, but it sure wasn’t looking good. He braced his arm against the coyote, which was surprisingly solid for a specter, and caught sight of Emilio for a second, sure that the slayer was going to help. And then he walked away. The fucking piece of shit walked away. A flurry of curse words swirled in Kaden’s mind and off his lips as he continued to fight off the coyote. If he just had a second to free one of his hands and use his damn knife, he could maybe–

The spirits melted away almost as quickly as they had shown up and in their place was the waddling porcupine, still very dead, but walking all the same. Kaden blinked, staring back at the creature. How had it…? Squinting, he noticed something strange about the spikes. But there was no way that– Alright, Jude brought the thing back to life along with a moose and tortured the coyote in question, they very much would be the type to turn the porcupine into a weapon against ghosts with iron on its quills.

He winced as he tried to get up. That piece of shit ghost did a number on it. As he was planning to limp away and brace against the pain, a string of light wrapped around his leg, relieving the pain. His brow furrowed, trying to put the pieces together, only to hear the clattering of bones and whining canine spirits. Metzli sprinted past him towards the slayer as Kaden was finding his footing, heading back to Jude. “Friend is a fucking strong word!” he shouted, running head first the coyotes and the shambling moose that was looking a little worse for wear. Somehow.

Kaden pulled the pistol from his pocket, aimed and shot the ghost directly on top of Jude. The rock salt pellets tore through one of the coyotes, the spirit stumbling as it began to melt away like the others had before. He hoped those hadn’t hit Jude, but his concern was minimal at best. One was too preoccupied with Jude’s arm to notice the hunter, but the others spun and snarled, turning on Kaden. He shot again but this time the shadowy shapes knew better, blinking and twisting out of the way. The closest coyote leapt onto Kaden’s arm while the other went for his leg. The ranger shot the first one point blank. Still not fast enough, the ghost simply faded and reappeared at Kaden’s back, digging its spectral claws into him. Putain. He dropped the gun and reached for another knife, kicking the second beast away from his knees before plunging the iron knife through the specter. What was that, now, four down? Not bad. Even if the one was still on his back. Kaden tried to slam it into a tree but only felt the wind knocked out of his own lungs as he smacked into the tree.

–

Acidic guilt burned in the back of his throat at the thought of leaving the others to fight the coyotes alone, but what choice did he have? He didn’t know what would happen to him if he broke this promise. And besides, the coyotes were going to keep coming until Regan called them off, anyway, weren’t they? He’d be more help to this group of assholes by getting her to call them off than he would be by sticking around and letting them make a chew toy out of him.

The silent justification of his decision to leave did little to ease the guilt swirling in his chest, and maybe that was why Emilio missed Metzli’s approach. Or maybe it was the way he’d been fucking losing it for months now, or the way the whole damn forest seemed to be setting off his undead sense. It didn’t matter much what the reasoning was; all that mattered was that when Metzli came at him, Emilio didn’t realize it until it was too late. Their arm wrapped around his legs and he stumbled, falling to the forest floor.

As soon as he hit the ground, he started to struggle. Throwing out his elbows, kicking his legs, throwing his head back in an attempt to make some kind of contact. He heard the leaves crunching as the few coyotes who weren’t focused on Kaden and the necromancer approached, and he had no idea if they’d attack him or not. Technically he was on their side here, but did spectral coyote spirits bound to a possessed banshee recognize that sort of thing? Emilio wasn’t exactly eager to find out.

“Get off me.” There was a note of panic in his voice that he’d deny later, a genuine edge of fear. At the coyotes, at the endless possibilities of what might happen if this promise was broken, at the simple fact that he was pinned to the forest floor by a vampire even if it was a vampire he begrudgingly trusted. “Get off. You’re the one who’s going to get me killed. I have to — I’ll get her to call them off. That’s the only way they’re going to leave.”

He wasn’t sure if it was true, didn’t know if there was some other way to get the coyotes to leave them alone, but he knew that this was the only way to stop the coyotes and keep himself from facing the consequences of the broken promise. Was it selfish? Absolutely. But Emilio wasn’t only thinking of himself, despite what it might seem. Fighting the coyotes would do nothing. There were too many of them to take on, even between all four of them, and there was no way to chase them off permanently without Regan’s interference.

Desperately, Emilio continued to lash out against Metzli’s weight pinning him down. “Please, Metzli, please, you have to let me go. I can help them.” And himself, too.

—

Jude’s shoulder stung as a stray rocksalt bullet pierced through them, but mostly they sighed in relief as the teeth inches from their face dissipated into smoke. Even as they should have had their heart pounding, it was unnaturally calm, seemingly unconcerned by gunfire or vengeful ghosts. They scrambled to their feet, snatching up their dropped salt pouch as the moose slowly reassembled itself. It didn’t know how to. Where before each bone had sat where it was in life, now it only knew the framework of a moose. Its legs were made of antler and ribs, its spine of tibulas and maxilla and mandible. Its face was no face at all, hip sockets where eye sockets once were. It guarded Jude and became smaller every time a spectral coyote broke through it, fractured bones no longer usable for a skeletal form. As more of the coyotes encircled Jude, working as a pack with one mind, they flinched as they heard Kaden hit a tree with spectacular force.

They turned to try to cast a spell to help him, but after all their deaths and resurrections, this time the coyotes wizened up. One snapped at their wrist, knocking the pen from Jude’s hand and leaving the spell unfinished, only to dissipate as Jude swung their salt at it, but another slammed into their knees. Another bit their other arm, pulling it away so they couldn’t cast anything else. Jude’s knees hit a soft pile of mud and rotting meat as pain seared through their joints as sharp as lightning, and the moose that had been trying to defend them collapsed into a pile of bone, and the porcupine couldn’t trundle fast enough. Each bite was like molten magma poured into their bones, electric heat cooking their skin. The world tilted.

“Jude, we came to a decision. You’re too powerful.” An older woman with long braids told Jude kindly, looming over them, her long full skirt dragging against Jude’s shins. Except she’d never known them as Jude. They’d been Dolly back then, because they’d missed being a woman, and had resumed it for that lifetime. It had been a harder one, but a slower one, and as Head Witch of the Vermont coven leant over Jude, they weren’t sure it had been worth it. But none of the coven knew what Jude was capable of. Jude reached for their pen, a quill back then, but they could never quite reach it. Their mind was made sluggish by a mental caster. “It’ll be alright, Jude. You’ll barely feel it.” Jude. No, Jude wasn’t the right name for this lifetime, wasn’t the right fit for the flavour they’d been back then, in stays and bespoke made dresses.

The image of the Vermont Coven flickered, and for a second Jude could see the coyotes again. But the high priestess reached down, and tilted Jude’s face up to hers. They didn’t remember it, her name, but they remembered how she’d smiled as it began to rain around them, how thunder had crackled through the air.

“Only one second, Jude,” She said, raising her other hand to the sky. Lightning lassoed to her hand, and shot straight through her into them. Jude’s jaw tightened and every muscle clenched right up, their body a livewire. Whether it was the roaring electricity of a century old witch’s curse or thousands of synapses firing at once, Jude’s heart finally began to race as their muscles contracted until their bones began to groan under the strain.

The witches in their vision grinned. The coyotes around them bared their teeth as others bit deeper still.

Only seconds after it finally began to race, Jude’s heart slowed again. This time, it slowed to a stop.

–

The grip around Emilio’s legs waned at the desperation in his voice. It pulled at the newly forged strings in Metzli’s chest. They knew they were damning him in some way. Making decisions was nearly impossible though. Each option presented a victim, a sacrifice to offer in return. Fate, as they had learned, required balance. The impartial entity spared no one no matter the plea, so Metzli settled to do the same as bullets fired, Emilio thrashed, coyotes growled, and exclamations of pain mixed together.

Spectral beasts closed in, and so too did the vampire. Metzli covered Emilio with their body, only letting go for a breath to grab their knife. “Fuck off!” They swiped, growling and sliding up to tighten their legs around the slayer, firmly keeping him in place. Coyotes snapped and swiped, finding purchase in the Metzli’s skin, tearing. Dead blood lathered their skin, but they didn’t wave a white flag. They couldn’t afford to.

“I won’t let you get killed, okay?” Metzli swiped, “I can make this right.” Another swipe, but this time, it was followed by a push. The blade sank and they twisted it, making the final coyote of that push yelp and disappear. With a renewed and cautious enthusiasm, Metzli let out a dry chuckle. Their body stung and ached, but they had managed to help in some way, despite their not-so-brilliant plan.

The area grew too quiet, though. When the realization of that hit, Metzli whipped their gaze around the whole area, landing on Jude and hearing nothing. Nothing. “Kaden!” They requested, pointing with their knife. “Check them! I can’t hear anything! Their heart!”

—

Kaden barely had time to catch his breath when he felt the cold breath down his neck, the teeth sinking in, piercing his skin. Fucking ghost coyotes shouldn’t be able to cause this much pain but that thought wasn’t enough to keep the scream from tearing out of him, made from the little bit of breath left in his lungs. He doubled over and used the momentum to throw the coyote over his shoulder. It felt like his flesh was being torn from his neck, but it was hard to tell what the hell was spectral and what was corporeal anymore. Didn’t matter. All Kaden had to do was fumble for his iron knife, twisting around to stab the shadowy coyote. It started to yelp and melt away at the first contact, but that didn’t stop the ranger from raising the knife and stabbing the spirit again and again, rage pouring through him in a way it hadn’t for a while now.

The knife dug into the dirt one more time before Kaden noticed the growls and screams coming from Jude’s direction. Shit. Shit. His attention snapped to the necromancer who was covered in coyotes. He stumbled to pick himself up and run to help. He would help. He had to help.

The snarls grew louder and the shouting slowed. No. Kaden shot off another salt pellet. And another. Two were gone but it didn’t seem to make a difference; there was only one thing they cared about, only one person they wanted to suffer. When he was in reach, Kaden slashed his knife through the canine bodies, pushing it through them to get to the spellcaster, ignoring the claws scratching at him and the teeth bared towards him. With a flurry of iron, Kaden was able to clear the way long enough to see Jude.

“Jude, come on,” the ranger said as he grabbed their shoulder, shaking them despite the wounds covering them, trying to wake them from the shock. That’s what it was. Shock. He was sure of it.

Their body went limp and Kaden tried again, grabbing Jude by the shoulders and pulling them to sit upright as their head lolled back. “Wake up. This isn’t funny. We have to get out of here before…” The true state of their wounds settled into Kaden’s vision, starting to make sense. The pieces were coming together, but he refused to let it be true. “There might be…” He felt their skin growing cold against his hands.

No.

Kaden reached to their neck to feel their pulse.

It was–

“No.” The word was more like a whisper than anything. Kaden’s hands released before he could think to do otherwise, letting the body flop back on top of the pile of bones and carcass surrounding them. The limp, mangled body.

The body.

All that was left was a body. Kaden was responsible for another body. In the woods.

He was frozen. Stuck. His eyes were glued to the body. If there was more danger, anything else, he couldn’t tell, couldn’t say. The world went silent and stopped as he stared at the body of the spellcaster he’d let die in the woods.

—

For a moment, Metzli faltered. For a moment, Emilio thought they might let up, thought he might have something resembling a chance. But only for a moment. Their grip tightened on him again between one heartbeat and the next, protective and damning all at once. Enhanced strength might have given him more of a shot if the coyotes nipping at the vampire’s skin weren’t adding to the challenge of it all, if Kaden’s shouts and Jude’s struggles weren’t distracting him, if he’d wanted to leave half as much as he should have.

When it became clear he had no real shot at breaking free, Emilio stilled beneath the vampire, chest tight. He let out a laugh at their words, strangled and humorless. “You’re the one who’s going to get me killed,” he said flatly, though there was no real heat behind it. He’d known for some time now that this fae bind wasn’t going to work out in his favor, known that between Metzli and Kaden and all the rest of Regan’s friends who wanted to achieve something that would undoubtedly lead to Emilio’s promise being broken, he’d never stood much of a chance at all. Emilio knew well enough to know how to accept when something was over.

And a lot of things were over right now.

The air shifted as Metzli spoke, a new kind of chaos overtaking them. Jude’s heartbeat was a hard one to read — Emilio had noticed that the first time he met them in the graveyard and almost stuck a stake in their chest — but he couldn’t hear it at all now. He shifted beneath Metzli again, this time towards the necromancer instead of towards the cabin. Kaden’s voice, a whisper that might as well have been a damn scream, was enough to tell him what was going on.

It was an old story; someone was dead, and none of them had stopped it from happening. Emilio hadn’t known Jude well, hadn’t liked them much better, but the guilt that settled into his chest was there all the same.

But there wasn’t time, was there? There wasn’t time to mourn, wasn’t time to fall apart. There never was. “The coyotes will be back,” he said hoarsely, letting his head drop against the forest floor. “If you let me go, I can get her to keep them away from you. That’s what I was trying to do before.” Not the only thing he was trying to do, sure, but certainly on the agenda.

—

Metzli knew the necromancer was dead long before Kaden’s reaction confirmed it. Cemented it with every plea. Every shake hammered the rusted nails in, and though there was a resistance, there was no stopping death. Their shoulders sank, looking back at Emilio with defeat in their eyes. Empathy was a son of a bitch, but they couldn’t let it latch onto them and be a distraction because Emilio was right. The coyotes’ departure was only temporary.

“I’m sorry,” They choked out, disheartened and defeated. Metzli wanted desperately to do the right thing, but none of the paths fit their wishes. “No matter who I help, someone is going to get hurt.” They said it aloud, but they were mostly saying it to themself. Their eyes tightened shut, and they finally relented, moving from atop Emilio.

With him set free, Metzli bolted to Jude and Kaden, sliding next to them in a rush. Their hands hovered over their body, trying to find something to do, but all they could hear was Kaden’s thundering heart and the shake in his breaths. They were already so cold, and they knew there was nothing that could be done, so they just watched Emilio in the distance, hoping things would turn out okay.

—

Words were spoken, but Kaden couldn’t process the noise. Shapes moved as bodies moved around him, but all he saw was the one body. Just one. Lifeless on the death mound, just another dead thing added to the pile. And Kaden hadn’t done anything to stop it.

He had to move. Right? And then… do what, exactly? Kaden didn’t know. The only next step he could come up with was “stand.” Anything beyond that, he couldn’t figure out.

Stand. He could start there.

Kaden stood and managed to peel his eyes away from the body in time to see the shadowy wisps across the way. A howl pierced through the clearing as the fog took shape, the sound growing louder as the teeth and claws coming into focus. At first it was just three, then it was five, and before he knew it, they were surrounded by a dozen shadow coyotes, back and ready for round two. The ranger didn’t know if he was ready for a round two, not when he felt this numb. But he had to, he always fucking had to fight. Iron knife in hand, Kaden braced himself for another fight, pointless as it seemed to be.

A yelp screamed to his left and Kaden’s head shot just in time to see the shadows twist out of existence. Then another to his right. Until it was all around him, yelps and the spectral coyotes fading away as quickly as they came.

The ranger furrowed his brows, slowly looking around, trying to figure out what just happened. Were they safe? Really gone? His knuckles went white as he tightened his grip around the knife, waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him, but nothing came. Just silence.

“It’s over,” he said. Nothing left but quiet. And death.

—

Metzli’s weight disappeared from on top of him, but Emilio still felt heavy. He still felt as though he was being crushed, still felt as though he couldn’t get up from where he lay on the forest floor. He needed to run while he could, he knew, needed to take advantage of this distraction to go find out what the hell was going on with Regan and make sure she stopped before anyone else died, but…

All he could focus on was the damn corpse. The body of another person dead before he could do anything to stop it. He got to his feet slowly, cautiously, but he made no move towards the direction of the cabin in spite of the tug of the promise bind trying to pull him that way. He made no move towards Kaden, Regan, or the body, either. Instead, he just stood in place, uncertain and uneasy.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when the coyotes reappeared; in a way, Emilio had sort of known it was coming. Every time he’d encountered them so far, any effort to remove them had only ever proven temporary. They disappeared long enough to regain their strength, or whatever it was they did, and then they came back with their teeth just as sharp and their eyes just as angry. This was no different.

What was different was that Emilio didn’t use their presence as a distraction this time; instead, he pulled an iron knife from his pocket and held it tightly, ready to fight the beasts off. He’d never make it to the cabin before they tore Kaden and Metzli apart. He knew that. But… apparently, he didn’t have to.

There was a yelp, quick and sharp, and then there was nothing. The coyotes were gone. Emilio’s stomach sank. This meant there was nothing left to fight… but it also meant that whatever had been going on with Regan was probably over now. And Emilio hadn’t stopped it. The promise he’d made to protect her and her fucking bones had been broken. Dread twisted in his gut.

“It’s over,” he echoed Kaden’s sentiment flatly, a hint of bitterness to his tone. Whatever consequence he’d face for his failure was an inevitable thing now. He knew that.

—

There were many things that made a person, many things that made a heart twist and turn in a chest as a reminder that they were still living. Even if the heart itself was quite physically dead. Metzli’s did as much when they watched Emilio stand and decide to fight for and not against. There was a kind of power behind such a sentiment. He was robbed of choice, something so intimately his, one of the only things that could never leave him. Good or bad, those choices were meant to be his, and despite the consequences, Emilio stood up for himself and everyone else, informing what he had decided to stand against. The shock of it crescendoed in a way that reached everyone, ricocheting back to him until he crumbled.

“Emilio!” Metzli propelled themself forward, ignoring everything else around them. Kaden was alive and the coyotes were gone, and they needed to get to their friend. They would keep calling him that despite his persistent rejection. They never needed his forgiveness to place that label, to do what was right, and they would never ask for it. Their atonement required a sacrifice of pride, but when it came to Emilio, Metzli wasn’t seeking such a thing. What they were after was his familialship, the bond that had been created out of such tragedy. They wanted to make art out of the pieces of what was broken, and make something new. So they ran, not away, but to, and caught Emilio in their arm as he collapsed from the weight of the broken promise.

The pain he was feeling was palpable, but he wasn’t dead. A sigh broke out of Metzli’s lungs and they guided him to the ground, holding him close. “It’s over,” They murmured, holding their uneasiness in their mind until they could feel their desire for his survival gripping them. The sensation coursed through them, bringing Emilio closer to Metzli’s chest, and they counted every beat of his rapid heart. It continued, and that’s all they could ask for. Somehow their wish was being granted, and they knew better than to question it. Eilidh had taught them not to.

#writing #wickedswriting #chatzy #deathisanartmetzli #metzli #monstersfear #emilio #jude #deathbecomesjude #animal cruelty tw #fury and flesh #coyote exorcism

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letsbenditlikebennett · 2 years

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@deathisanartmetzli [pm] Macleod is safe and that’s all that matters to me.

So it’s not a big surprise I […] got hurt in the process and I’m gonna look different. Hoping to get home to Milo soon so he doesn’t freak out on me.

[pm] Well, you both being safe matters to me. I am glad she’s safe though.

Hurt Don’t you just heal back Is that not how Oh, you’re gonna be okay though, right? Did you need anything? Noted on the different. Yeah, don’t want him worrying. I’d offer to check on him but I’m probably the last person he wants to

#metzli #c metzli

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frennec-fox · 4 months

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In the shadow of the Dark Moon ⚫️

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gossipsnake · 3 days

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TIMING: February 24, 2024, (the evening of this) LOCATION: Inge's House PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Metzli (@muertarte) Inge (@nightmaretist), and Cass (@magmahearts) SUMMARY: After learning about what had happened to Anita and that she had been brought to Inge's house to warm up with Cass, Metzli comes over to make sure Anita is okay. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

It wasn’t right. Anita had been hurt, and any reasonable individual would’ve been motivated by panic and stress, guided toward their loved one with such a force that everything stormed out of their path. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for Metzli, who had to usually rely on logic above all else to mimic love. They didn’t know how to feel or what to do or how to process, but they had a location and a place to be, so they drove. And somehow, they’d done so calmly, even if they were going twenty over the speed limit.

By the time Metzli arrived, there was not much they could recall from between their walk from the car and their knock at the door. Nothing else mattered except getting to Anita. They just wished they could have made the moment sweeter with a warm drink or a filling pastry, but that was something they could do another time. Their focus diverted completely to their sister.

“Where was she found?” They rushed inside with a curt nod at whatever invitation they were given, not paying much mind to Inge so they could lay their eyes on proof that Anita was alive. It wasn’t as if she or Inge had any reason to lie. As far as Metzli was concerned, they both had their trust, and had given no grounds for them to not take her at her word. But between someone who thought themself a sibling, and the person they saw as their family, nothing else mattered more than reaching them.

With utmost care, Metzli opened the door and reached Anita in a blink, hovering a hand over her hair. She looked tired and worse for wear, but she was warm and breathing, resting soundly in clothing that looked much too big now. Metzli thought perhaps their mind was playing tricks on them, which would be no surprise. Panic had a way of altering a mind.

Metzli retracted their hand and backed away slowly. “I am here.” They kept their voice quiet, waiting for Anita’s approval to get closer. Their touch would do her no good, considering their lack of body heat, but they still held onto hope that they could offer some sort of physical affection she usually claimed she didn’t need. It wasn’t uncommon for Metzli to find her cuddling up with Fluffy or leaning into their touch. As much as Metzli wanted to, they never picked on her for it, and they especially wouldn’t right then. Not in front of Cass or Inge.

It was important that Metzli find out what was going on as soon as possible. Cass could only imagine the worry they must have felt when Anita didn’t come home. Were they looking for her? Were they scouring the woods, were they searching? She couldn’t imagine they’d be doing anything else, not if they had any inkling that something was wrong. Metzli was proactive, was dedicated, was loyal. And they loved Anita, Cass had seen it. If they knew Anita was hurt, they’d be worried. So they needed to find out right away.

She figured it would be better for Anita to text them, maintained her position practically curled around the lamia as she did so. She kept up that warm-but-not-too-hot temperature, gradually warming herself a little more to make sure Anita got the heat she needed without being too hot. She tried making awkward small talk with Inge at first, but she got the feeling neither of them really wanted that, so she gave it up after a few minutes.

And, when Metzli finally arrived and entered the room, she let the relief wash over her all at once.

She wondered, somewhat absently, if Metzli would display the same desperation if it were her in Anita’s position. She felt guilty for wondering it — Anita was hurt, and this should be about her — but her mind went there all the same. Cass was so used to being an afterthought and, in this moment, Anita was clearly anything but. She thought back to Alex, after she was hurt, to the way she would have done anything to get her out of Rhett’s cruel grasp. Hadn’t it been intoxicating, being the center of someone’s world? Even if only for a moment, even when it was over now? Hadn’t it felt good?

“She’s getting warmer,” she spoke up almost tentatively, like she was no longer sure of her place in this room. Neither Inge nor Metzli had the body heat to warm Anita, so Cass was necessary. She liked being necessary. It meant no one could make her go. “I think it’ll be a while longer before she’s… back to full strength.”

—

They had been at Inge’s place for a little while before Anita had the strength to even send Metzli a message about what had happened. And of course since she didn’t even have her own phone with her she had to rely on using someone else’s to even send the message. It felt like this was becoming a habit, needing help from others, and it made her feel uneasy. As much as she wanted to tell everyone to leave, not because she didn’t want them there but because she felt that her debt to them was growing with each passing second. Debt she didn’t know how to repay.

Just before Metzli arrived, Anita had finally felt warm enough to shift back. While most things in life were aided by being an incredibly large rattlesnake, trying to get warm was certainly not on that list. “I’m gonna get smaller,” she said to Cass so as not to startle the woman wielding that much heat near her skin, “It’ll make it quicker. Warmer blood and whatever.” It took more effort than she was used to but the scales that spread across her body were slowly replaced with soft pink flesh, allowing her to curl up into herself and get herself under the aluminum blanket that the tall stranger had given her.

When she heard Metzli’s voice there was a simultaneous relief and guilt that panged through Anita. She didn’t want to worry anyone… she didn’t mean to worry anyone. There had been nights, plenty of nights, that she didn’t make it home. She usually let them know that was going to be the case though, when she remembered to. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” she offered up. Normally the lamia adored being the center of attention - she thrived on it - but this type of attention, this type of care, felt so foreign to her. She didn’t know how to handle it all.

“I just need to get warm. I already healed the wound.” Nodding towards Cass, Anita agreed, “Will be a while, for sure.” Even if her body got warmed up Anita wondered how long the exhaustion she was feeling would last. “I’ve never… I don’t know anyone who’s ever… guess this is why my father wanted me to stay in the desert.”

She couldn’t recall the last time she’d turned on the heating in her cold apartment, but she had it blasting now. Inge could host, at the very least — it was one of the skills she’d taken with her from her former life. She could fret a little, offer whatever comforts Anita needed while waiting for her to warm up again. In a way, it was good to be on the other side of this: to help rather than to need to be helped.

And though her body ached from all the walking, she got up and moved towards the door all the same when the doorbell rang. Her eyes locked with Metzli, she offered the, “Come in,” required for a vampire and let them burst in. She followed, pushing through as she tried to keep up their pace. “In the Pines. I was astral hopping and I saw her and got help.” This was the second time in a long time where Inge was confronted with the fact that she was limited, that in some cases she was powerless. She had none of the superior healing her vampire brethren had, nor the strength. Not even the bodily warmth to assist Anita. And even though she’d manage to help Anita, she despised the feeling.

She followed Metzli, no longer bothering to keep up with their vampiric speed and leaned on a chair in the living room. What a strange combination of people, two of whom she’d only met rather recently and in very different settings. Inge didn’t question it. Life was spontaneous. And pain connected, that too she knew.

A small smile for Cass. Ariadne’s friend, she assumed. The one she’d asked her not to give nightmares. “Good.” She moved around the chair, sat on its edge, close to the gathering of people in her living room. So filled with life. She found it confusing. “You can stay as long as you need to, you know that.” Not often did she open her doors like that for people, and it wasn’t like Anita and her were as tightly entwined as she perhaps was with Metzli or even Cass — but still. Inge wasn’t going to kick her friend out. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “It’s … you’re here now, hm? Just focus on getting warmer.”

“Ay, mi hermosa.” Metzli leaned forward and planted an affectionate kiss to Cass’s head, fully trusting that if she was in contact with Anita, then it was safe to do so. Besides, they couldn’t help themself when the person they saw like kin was making them proud. She truly was a hero, and Metzli wholeheartedly believed that’s what she was meant to be. They smiled, “Thank you for helping her.” They didn’t care if Cass would bind them, and some part of them knew she wouldn’t. Regardless, it felt important to express their gratitude, and they turned to regard Inge, who they could see through the doorway to the living room. “And thank you as well, Inge. I…” Tears brimmed their eyes, a few daring to streak down their cheeks as they returned to Anita’s side and sat.

Metzli sniffled and cleared their throat immediately, trying not to feel too embarrassed. Anita likely didn’t have the energy to tease them, but they hoped she might. Anything to further cement that she was still there, and what Metzli was seeing wasn’t just a figment. It was asinine, really. They knew that. So, carefully, they reached forward, placing a gentle hand on Anita’s head for a few moments. They smiled warmly and retracted it before they could undo any of Cass’s hard work. Anita was real. Anita was real and even if Metzli had failed in finding her, she was alive and able to recover.

“I looked for you. Was very scared you were hurt and I am very sorry I could not find you.” The possibility (and really, the inevitability) of Anita dying became far too real, and it choked them. It formed a ball of some sort and it lodged itself in Metzli’s throat. Their leg began to bounce as discomfort overtook them, but they took a grounding breath to keep their emotions at bay as best they could. Some emotion was okay, but they didn’t want to overwhelm Anita or overtake the attention she needed. Instead, they breathed once more, offering Anita their hand, palm facing up.

“I will be here until you can come home then. Whatever you need, hermana. Like Inge say, focus on getting warmer. We will help.”

A warmth that had nothing to do with the magma flowing through her veins filled her chest as Metzli addressed her, and she offered them the smallest of smiles. When they’d first found Anita in the woods, trailing behind Otis and Inge like a lost dog, there had been so much desperation. She’d been so afraid, so uneasy. If anything happened to Anita, she’d thought, and Cass didn’t prevent it from doing so, she was sure Metzli wouldn’t forgive her for it. She was good so long as she was useful, and she’d been useful tonight. She’d used the destructive force of her volcanic nature for something decent, for warmth instead of ruination.

Metzli thanked her, and Cass disregarded it with a shrug. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m happy I could help.” She looked down at Anita with a small smile. “Everybody deserves somebody to help them, right?” It was something Cass desperately wanted, needed to be true. If Anita deserved salvation, if everyone did, didn’t she get to be included in that, too?

She flashed Inge a grateful smile as the mare said they could all stay as long as they needed to. It was funny — she hadn’t liked Inge much at the beginning of all this, but she was grateful for her now. Offering her home not just to Anita, but also to Cass, who she probably still hated, was a pretty heroic thing to do. And Cass would know; she was a superhero.

“So, um…” She shifted her weight a little, repositioning Anita slightly so that they both could be a little more comfortable. “Anybody have any Uno cards?”

—

As much as Anita adored being the center of attention in normal circumstances, these were not normal circumstances. This collection of people surrounding her, from different aspects of her life, all coming together to help her out was not a dynamic she knew how to navigate. But they didn’t seem upset or annoyed, at least not visibly, at needing to tend to the weakened lamia. That felt surprising to her, mostly. Metzli’s reaction, their support, was expected. But the other two, that felt surprising. Not because of who they are or because of anything they had done but simply because having people around to support her was such a foreign feeling at this stage in her life.

The idea of her absence causing Metzli to go out and search for her, knowing that she caused them any amount of fear, only added to the guilt that was cursing her. How many nights had she not come home in the past without letting them know? Did it always spark such a reaction? That wasn’t a question she really wanted an answer to. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have … been out there like that.” She reached out and placed her hand in theirs, keeping it there despite the cold.

She turned her attention towards Cass, who was doing the work of a dozen heat lamps all by herself. “Is this tiring for you?” For all that Anita knew, whatever Cass was, and whatever powers she had, were foreign to her. “Don’t think I’ve played Uno since… college, maybe?” She didn’t wanna make presumptions but it seemed unlikely that Inge had a deck of Uno cards lying around. But Cass was onto something. If they had something to do to pass the time, maybe Anita would feel less guilt, or at least be distracted enough to not think about it for a short while. “Wouldn’t be opposed to playing a game or something, though.”

The scene was a strange one. Inge had people over at her house aplenty, but it was never this kind of combination. Anita in her living room made sense, had occurred before, but Metzli she only knew professionally and then there was Cass, the thief who’d melted her things. Put together the fact that someone was being offered aid and she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d encounter this kind of thing again soon. She gave Metzli a serious look, nodded. “Of course.” It wasn’t like she’d done it for Metzli, but still. She didn’t mind a little appreciation.

Inge remained leaning on the chair until Cass said something about Uno. Now the scene was really becoming something completely foreign. It wasn’t a bad thing, though. She raised up, jaws tight at the movement. “I can find us something. I’ve got a deck of cards, so we can just play crazy eights.” She could host. Though the days of serving guests pickled eggs and vruchtenbowl were over, she hadn’t quite lost that.

She moved away from the three others, feeling strangely out of place. She cared for Anita, certainly, and enjoyed her company deeply — but she and her had never felt this proximity she seemed to share with Cass and Metzli. No matter. It was hardly like she was jealous. Inge opened one of the many cabinets in the living room, most of them filled with various items. Old games from back at home, books and collections, dried flowers and trinkets she intended to do something with, one day. A deck of cards was produced and she returned, pulling an ottoman close to the small gathering. “If anyone wants something to drink, you can help yourself. There’s wine and other things in the kitchen.” No blood, that she only got when she had planned vampire visits. “But for now, I’ve got the deck. Shall I deal?”

Metzli shook their head at Anita and shushed her. “You are strong and your confidence is big. Maybe you make mistake, but you are alive. That is what matters.” They paused for a moment, offering Anita an intimate gesture by pressing their lips to the back of her hand. For someone not normally too keen on touch, it meant a great deal. It was something that required trust and comfort that they had only just begun to understand. “You matter to me. Worry will happen and that is okay. Just shut up and accept.”

There were various options that everyone presented for entertainment, nourishment, and comfort. Uno sounded interesting enough. If there were only a single item in a game, Metzli figured it couldn’t possibly be overstimulating or incredibly complex. It sounded quiet. Perfect, even. That was probably why Cass suggested it, and they offered a small and gentle smile to her as they gave Anita’s hand one final squeeze. She didn’t need her temperature lowered again.

“Let us play this Uno game and I can pay for pizza if someone will like to order.” They turned their head just in time to watch Inge’s hair bounce around the corner as she mentioned a much more chaotic game. Crazy eights? That is bigger than one. Not by much, but enough. And the numbers were crazy? Metzli couldn’t make sense of it, but before they knew it, Inge provided the group with a deck of cards. They stared at it as if it were as atypical as themself, their back stiffening as they shook their head and responded. “I will watch. I do not want to gamble in your deal.”

Anita asked about her, about her well-being, and it was enough to make Cass’s chest feel warm in the metaphorical sense as well as the physical. She offered the lamia a small smile, shaking her head. “It’s not tiring. This is just… being, for me.” Without the need to maintain her glamour, this was actually less tiring than her day-to-day, even if the glamour only took a very small amount of energy to keep up. Regardless, even if it had been exhausting, she would have done it. Anita was cold, and Cass could warm her. That was all there was to it. It was a simple thing.

She hummed, disappointed but not surprised that Inge didn’t have any Uno cards lying around. It had been something of a long shot, given Inge’s whole ‘fancy lady’ aesthetic. Fancy ladies probably didn’t play Uno, which was stupid. Uno was fun. But, regardless, Cass knew how to work with what was given to her. Metzli wasn’t interested in Crazy 8s, though Anita didn’t seem to mind the idea. Cass considered it for a moment.

“Maybe we can do a round or two of that, then Go Fish?” She looked to Metzli as she said it, brows drawing together in a pleading look. It was an expression perfected from years of making sure everyone felt included enough to stay. If there was nothing for a person to do, they were more likely to walk away. And Cass didn’t want Metzli to leave.

She didn’t want anyone to leave, but Metzli was the only one who really could right now. Anita was frozen in place (though not quite literally anymore), and this was Inge’s house. If she could keep Metzli here, they could stay as they were right now. And Cass liked how they were right now. It felt kind of perfect… or as perfect as anything could be, under the circumstances. “Maybe we could have hot chocolate, too?”

—

It would have been too overwhelming for Anita to take the time to fully process and internalize the amount of care that was being given to her. So she was glad to have a distraction in the way of a card game, no matter what game that ended up being. Something to do other than talk about the situation she got herself in. “Crazy 8’s isn’t all that crazy,” she offered to Metzli in Spanish when they seemed uninterested in playing. She wanted them to have a good time if they were going to be stuck here waiting for her to defrost, but also knew that watching the others play might as well be as enjoyable as playing for them.

Anita was feeling well enough to move her arms a bit, being able to do the absolute bare minimum action for a game of cards. As the cards were delt she reached out to grab her hand, fully accepting that it would be near impossible to keep her cards fully concealed from Cass. “Hot chocolate would be amazing. Especially if you’ve maybe got some tequila lying around to throw in there?” She asked, looking over at Inge. She should have asked Metzli to bring some from home. Even though she knew the science behind it was flawed, there was no denying that a bit of tequila was known to warm just about anyone up. “I think after a few rounds of the game I should be warm enough to head home. I don’t wanna put y’all out all night.”

She looked between the strange range of people and folded down the cards so they could be shuffled and dealt at a later time, “Maybe you can explain the rules to Metzli? It is not so different from Uno.” Inge got up, sure to not touch Cass and her searing skin again. She remembered how she’d burned her once and thought it some kind of metaphor — how warmth could be healing yet also dangerous.

“Anyway — hot chocolate I can do. With tequila. I’ll also order a pizza.” And she’d pay for it. She was a gracious host, after all. It was a fundamental skill for women of her once-caliber. It was one she didn’t mind not having unlearned — though plenty of the other submissive housewife traits had luckily left her. “What kind of toppings do you like?”

Her eyes flicked to Anita, then. “Don’t worry. Neither Metzli nor I need sleep. You are hardly putting me out. You’ve —” Slept over before, she almost added, before remembering herself. Inge smirked vaguely and then gave Cass another one over. She was okay. Even if she’d stolen her bag and burned her hand. “And if you doze off, that’s alright.” She moved to the kitchen to heat up some milk on the stove, feeling a distant sense of a feeling she couldn’t quite describe. Perhaps it was as simple as contentment, but maybe something more rare — a feeling of safety and unity.

They knew what Cass was doing when she made that face. They also knew she was scared that they’d leave, even if that was far from the truth. More than once, she had used it to get her way, ensuring abandonment of any kind wasn’t any option. It was how she operated, experiencing dismissal and loneliness far too long. If given the chance to live those moments again, Metzli surely would’ve given Cass what she wanted without any sort of plea.

They just enjoyed her face far too much to give in immediately. They enjoyed the way she knew a certain look would sway any decision they made. As if Metzli was truly her guardian. “I am staying, mihijita. And I will beat you at this crazy game.” Gently, they reached over and patted her head, ruffling her slightly and playfully with a small but genuine smile on their face. “I will also beat Anita.” They chuckled, rising to their feet to help Inge out in the kitchen. A room they were comfortable and navigated well in. Never mind the fact that they had no need to eat actual food anymore.

“If you have chocolate that I can melt with the mix, I can help you make it very tasty.”

“Pineapple!” Cass cut in immediately, eager to make her preferred pizza topping known. Normally, she might have let someone else respond first, might have pretended to like whatever the popular answer was, but… she felt comfortable, in this moment. She felt comfortable enough to be a little more of herself, to stop pretending even if it was only for a heartbeat. Later, the mask would slip back on as easily as breathing. She’d cut herself into smaller pieces, something easier to digest. But right here, right now… Cass felt good. And that was good. Wasn’t it?

She grinned a little as Metzli agreed to stay, feeling as though some invisible weight had been lifted. The teasing, too, felt good, felt like something she’d never thought she’d have. “There’s no way you’re beating me,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m totally gonna win. You’ll probably beat Anita, though.” She flashed Anita a grin — a quiet confirmation that she was only kidding, with a question underneath it: is this okay, are we here yet, can we do this?

As Metzli and Inge went into the kitchen, Cass remained with Anita. This was good, she thought. However terrifyingly the night had started out, this ending was good. She wanted more nights like this. She wanted them forever.

—

It was not very often that Anita found herself alone, physically. She usually had some body nearby to keep her company - either a meal or a tryst. Even when she spent time with people she cared about, the people in this room, it was almost always one-on-one. Genuinely, she did not know if that was an intentional doing on her part or if it was coincidental. Laying there, wrapped up in physical and emotional warmth felt so foreign to her. It made her think back to Mexico, before she left home. But even as she let her mind wander back there, as she shuffled through her cards and listened to discussions about pineapple on pizza, Anita was faced with the reality that home had never actually felt quite this warm.

Back then she may have been constantly surrounded by a sea of family but they were all so preoccupied with themselves that moments like this - simple evenings - were scarce. Anita smiled up at Metzli when they returned with cups of cocoa and nodded at the indication from Inge that pizza was just a few minutes away. As she took that first sip of the spiked beverage, for a moment the guilt she had been feeling slipped away. For a moment she was just in a living room, playing cards with people who cared about her.

#wild cards #thread #para #metzli #cass #inge #c:m #t:metzli #t:cass #t:inge #chatzy #writing

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thesilentmedium · 7 months

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Homemade Panaderia || Jonas & Metzli

TIMING: A few months ago LOCATION: Ballard house PARTIES: @thesilentmedium & @muertarte SUMMARY: Jonas and Metzli have a baking session! CONTENT WARNING: none

With the sky clear and the sun overhead, it was the perfect day to use an umbrella and a pair of shades. Wicked’s Rest was great for its cloudy days, especially in the winter, but the change in season meant more sun. Metzli kept their stride swift and focused, both to get out of the sun and to find the address Jonas had provided them.

They opted to walk, unsure if the kindness was a rouse to get them inside for an attack. Meant for an easier getaway and to leave nothing behind. It was irrational, but as someone who lived in a constant state of danger, it was always better to err with caution. As exhausting as that sounded to Jonas, Metzli thought it was being practical. Arriving at the address, they walked up to the door and prepared themself for whatever may come. What they didn’t expect though, was to be met with the kindest face they’d seen in a while.

“H-hello,” Metzli waved, a little perplexed but not showing it. “Am here for baking. May I come in?”

Jonas was setting out the ingredients for the Conchas, he was hoping he got the right recipe as he made sure everything was lined up. There were two separate stations, each with the ingredients measured out beforehand, each in their own bowl fitting the amount needed. The recipe was on a tablet sitting nicely on a stand between the two. Jonas smiled at his work, strapping on the apron and checking the time on his watch. His guest should be here soon.

Speaking of it was not long before Blue came to fetch him, leading him to the door before going to lay in front of the stairs. Jonas opened the door, the smile still on his face as he focused on the stranger’s lips, “Oh you must be Metzli!” He stepped aside, giving them room to step in. Blue wagged her tail from the floor in greeting. Normally she would have been ecstatic to see a visitor but the nightly patrols of the house had left the dog in the mood for a nap now that someone else was around to watch out for trouble. “Come in, I have everything set up. Oh this is Blue the dog I mentioned.”

Not only was Jonas emitting kindness, but his voice was evidence of a lost sense. Metzli didn’t have a lot of experience with such a thing as deafness, but they had enough common sense to make sure their lips were always visible. If Jonas was giving them the courtesy of teaching them how to bake, it was all the more reason to give basic respect. More so, even. “Am Metzli, yes.” They stepped inside, maintaining eye contact, and relieved to find that the barrier dissipated.

“Hi Blue.” Metzli waved stoically to the dog, passing by her happy tail with a large step over. They followed attentively, making sure to stay close. The last thing Metzli wanted to do was come off rude or stray too far that Jonas couldn’t see their words. When they got to the kitchen, where the scent of sugar filled their nose, Metzli’s eyes widened to see just how thorough Jonas was. Even if they’d somehow done something wrong, it was obvious that anything could be salvaged.

“English is not very good, and never bake before, but I will try my best.” Metzli promised, bowing their head respectfully. “How start?”

Jonas moved over to grab an apron off the wall, “Well first we um need to get an apron on you to protect your nice shirt.” He handed it over, “Would reading be easier for you than me talking?” He knew that seeing the word could help a lot. “I um have the recipe up here for us to follow.” He bent over to the tablet and zoomed in a little more to make the words slightly bigger for the other. “Um normally you would start by measuring out all the ingredients. I did that for you but have written down the amounts on sticky notes.” He pointed to yellow pieces of paper sitting under the little bowls that had the name of the ingredient and the amount.

“Baking is very easy, you just um have to follow the recipe exactly as it is presented.” Jonas looked at the first step and went to pull the stand mixer down from a shelf that was a bit too high for him. He frowned a little and turned to Metzli, “Um just a moment I need a step stool.” He shuffled by the taller person to go for the closet behind them. His short height had always been a problem considering everyone else in the house was practically a giant, well except for Lil.

It took a moment to actually get the old door to let him in. He really loved this house but the amount of work that needed to be done on it still astounded him anytime he had a moment to think on it. When it finally let him in to see the treasures locked behind, the step stool was not there. “Oh…um.” Jonas scratched at the back of his head a little lost as to where the stool could have gone, he swore he put it back the last time he had it out.

Metzli nodded, quietly taking the apron and putting it on quickly. It felt similar to the smocks they’d wear to protect their clothes from paint. They wondered briefly if baking was an art on its own. Plenty of baked goods had artistic qualities. Even something as simple as a concha. A few well placed slices, and you had the pattern. It was a staple. It was art. Realizing this, most of the doubt Metzli had about their ability to bake was gone.

“Do you need help?” The vampire asked, mentally smacking themself for not getting Jonas’s attention first. Idiot. Metzli tapped his shoulder and pointed to the mixer he had tried to retrieve. Signaling to give them a moment, they went ahead and reached for it, easily grabbing hold of it by its motor head. It was lighter than they expected, but that wasn’t atypical. Their above average strength made most things light.

“Where?” Metzli made sure that time that their face was turned to Jonas, tilting their head in question.

Jonas turned when his shoulder was tapped and before he could insist it was alright Metzli was already dragging the heavy mixer from the top shelf. Jonas couldn’t help but be impressed by their strength. He was easily awestruck by shows of strength, when he was little he used to follow Jane around and have her lift him up on her arms. He thought it was the coolest thing in the world. “I appreciate it, just um set it here.” He gently patted the surface next to the ingredients he had set out for them.

“We will uh need to start by mixing together the dry ingredients for the flour.” Jonas made sure to point to the flour, sugar, yeast and salt. “Put them in the mixing stand’s bowl and make sure to ramp it up slowly to medium, if you um turn it on high flour will go everywhere haha.” He was glad to find the recipe was not very complicated, it would make learning and teaching rather easy for the both of them. His only drawback was that he didn’t have the specific cutter to get the lines on the sugar topping right. They were going to have to do that by hand and while the design was simple, he had seen Lil mess up even the easiest decorations on cakes.

Jonas was sure Metzli wasn’t as bad as his sister but if the other did mess up he really hoped they didn’t feel bad. Baking was lovely and he didn’t want them to give up on their first try. “We have to wait for the dough to rise now but if you like I can get you some tea.” They could end up sitting around for 2 hours while the bread doubled in size. Tea and time on the covered front porch seemed like the best way to pass the time. He had a painting sitting out there still waiting to be finished. He had found himself struggling to find the motivation to finish, he was tempted to blame the stress. It was hard to feel safe out there when he knew people were watching.

He was hoping that having someone else around would make him feel more comfortable and make it easy to start up on it again; he hadn’t gotten the chance to try with Zane given how the man left as soon as he arrived. It was a pity, but Jonas was glad Zane was somewhere he felt safe now and thankfully the bite on his arm didn’t leave any remarkably noticeable marks, just two faint dots that were fading more and more each day.

With a polite nod, the mixer was placed carefully where Jonas patted. Metzli promptly set to work, heeding the instructions they were given. The hardest part was already done, everything lined up and prepped for mixing. “Dry ingredients first. Okay.” Metzli reiterated, moving almost robotically as they poured everything together.

The mixer was an interesting contraption, whirring smoothly while the ingredients swirled in the bowl. It was mesmerizing to watch, and were it not for Jonas reminding Metzli of their tasks, they might’ve continued to stare and grown lost to the hypnotic pattern.

In a matter of minutes, the dough was ready to prove, leaving nothing more to do than wait. Jonas offered something Metzli wanted to decline, but knew it would be impolite to. Small talk. The worst! They grimaced subtly, and looked up to the ceiling to think and avoid his eyes while still keeping their mouth visible. Their index finger and thumb rubbed together anxiously, and they finally nodded to agree to his tea.

“I like spicy tea. Do you have this?” Metzli’s eyes locked with Jonas briefly and their back stiffened. Immediately, they looked back up and counted to ten, hoping to keep themself from becoming too worried about eye contact.

Jonas took note of the way Metzli seemed to dislike direct eye contact and wasn’t really sure if it would be more uncomfortable if he brought it up or let it be. He decided to let it be and do his best to just keep his eyes on their lips to avoid making them feel worse. “Spicy tea? Hm.” He meandered over to a corner of the counter, there was a little stand filled to the brim with all sorts of containers of loose leaf tea. Jonas liked to keep the empty ones that had nice designs. He figured he could always refill them with and if not they made nice decorations.

“I um have chai or cinnamon tea. Even some ginger…” Jonas trailed off when Blue started growling from the main hall. He couldn’t hear it but there was a banging coming from the front door. “Blue?” He started to make his way towards the hall before stopping and turning to Metzli. “We have to leave.” He said it as quietly as possible, setting the tea aside and motioning for Metzli to follow him to the back door. He didn’t know if that was really the wisest way to go, if they were out in the front they probably had people coming around the back but it was better than being trapped in the house, plus it would at least give Metzli time to run away if things were actually bad. He paused for a moment, contemplating grabbing a knife before deciding he probably wouldn’t use it even if given the chance. He didn’t know why these people were after him but he knew he wasn’t capable of actually hurting them in return.

There was hesitation in Jonas’s face and body language. Fear constricting his voice and frazzling his movements. Metzli was perplexed at first, enamored with his reaction until the banging at the door registered in their senses. Blue was growling, hackles raised at the sign of danger. A good boy, really. A reflection of his owner. Both were too good to get hurt, and the vampire decided they needed to protect both of them.

The banging continued as Metzli stared off into the void for a few moments. Unholstering their knife, they brandished it to Jonas, not realizing it might look like a threat. “I will take care of them,” They reassured, rolling the knife over their knuckles for a stronger hold. “Take Blue and—” CRACK!

The door split open before the sentence could be finished, and Metzli was sprung into action. Salt was thrown into them, followed by a foot aiming to kick them straight in the stomach. Metzli quickly rotated into it, catching the leg between their torso and half-limb. With the leverage, they drove their foot into the man’s chest, sending him into the door frame with enough force to splinter it. Wasting no time, Metzli plunged their blade into the man’s neck. They were quickly pulled away a little too late, and the second perpetrator attempted to compress the wound to no avail. Metzli simply stared as they waited, standing up to become a wall between the intruders and Jonas.

Jonas reached to stop Metzli but it was too late. The other had already moved to protect him, though Metzli soon proved he was worrying for the wrong party as they expertly dealt with the situation. Thanks to Metzli taking the salt, Blue was able to move to place herself between it all and Jonas but not before he saw the knife enter the stranger’s throat. He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him as a hand went to cover his mouth. He had seen so many dead but had never seen a person actively die in front of him before.

The second perpetrator looked between her friend and the person before her. She was clearly out of her league and the look of fear on her face showed that she knew it. Jonas’ eyes widened as he got a good look at the woman’s face. He knew her, he moved his hand as was about to speak but the woman decided it was better to bail than to stick around. She left her now silent friend on the ground and bolted out the door. Jonas looked to Metzli, “What do we do?” The shock of the whole situation was easy to see on his face.

“Are you hurt?” There were no visible wounds on Jonas, but the question couldn’t be helped. Not when his expression was filled with concern and fear. Metzli swallowed, looking back at the carnage to see a pool of blood growing beneath the man they’d killed. Jonas asked what they should do, and Metzli didn’t hesitate to take control of the situation. They’d already made the mistake of following their monstrous instincts, the least they could do was make a shift and create a kinder set of actions.

“Go sit outside with Blue.” Metzli faced Jonas fully, ensuring he’d be able to see their lips. “I will clean this and it will be like it did not happen.” They looked up at the light, avoiding eye contact. “I am sorry. I react too quick and harsh.” Sucking in a deep breath, Metzli turned on their heel and began to roll into the rug by the door to prevent any more blood from reaching the floor. There was a lot of work to do, but Metzli had high hopes that they could get it done in a little over an hour.

Jonas couldn’t focus on what Metztli was saying, his eyes refused to meet their lips as he stared at the blood pooling on his floor. His body felt numb, his brain frozen in place. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He barely registered Metzli beginning to clean or Blue gently nudging him out the back door. Before he knew it he was seated in the rocking chair on the porch outside staring at the wisteria tree as its purple branches swayed in the breeze.

His hands were shaking as they moved to pet Blue purely out of habit. His brain was still very much focused on the picture of the man gasping for air as blood pooled from his neck. It was the first time Jonas had seen someone’s eyes go dim as their soul left their body. The ghost had risen from the man only to be expelled by the house, which was disturbing in its own right. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to go back in there or even how he was to resume baking, if Metzli even asked him to continue. His fingers curled into Blue’s fur as he shoved his face against her, the tears rolling down his cheeks disappearing into the soft fluff. The only thing he could think of now was how he wished Lil was here.

#writing #metzli #muertarte

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