#braindeacl

Robert should’ve stopped after the second failed attempt. The third. The fourth, even. But he was almost close to cracking it. He could feel it in his bones despite his hands refusal to produce. He was so close! He had studied the technique flawlessly — practiced the motions in a mirror until they looked just as the books. Success had been found in summoning birds, with time of course as it seemed to be now. And that now demanded something more. Something powerful — something he could really flaunt around town. But they kept dying. A great cockatrice who bubbled and bursted in blisters before it could so much as screech. A beautiful raróg who never got the chance to know flames before it turned to ash. A terrifying ker who quickly turned to eat itself rather than any of the corpses near. Until it joined that pile of bodies. A pile that seemed to have no end.

Eilidh had been called to the place as places often did — with the promise of death. There was that pull in the air again, like a great wind rushing passed. To that clearing that kept beckoning, who had given her gifts before. But this call was fresh. Her teeth chattered in excitement. Mind imagining the feast and the one who caused it. She donned her goggles. Followed that inner pull until it ended with that twisted use of magic. At first her sights were placed on the pile of bodies, and their rotted flesh called to her as any. But the hunger wanted the man. The man who used magic so cruelly — who invited death for no reason but delight. His ripeness was palpable. Her teeth chattered more, clicks of hunger soon to be fulfilled. Until there was a shift in the air and the hunger withered. It didn’t die, still craving the man as ever. But the pile seemed less appealing. And then it moved.

Success too seemed to be in the air, for Robert at least, as life returned to those fallen creatures. But not as a group of individuals, as one whole. The pile refused to separate; simply turned to become upright. The legs fused and torsos twisted together and wings joined at the same joint. At the end of the equation was a massive bird. A Chimera. One of many wings, of many heads all sporting fangs, covered in flames, and with an appetite that felt never ending. An appetite aimed at the father, who was devoured eagerly by this new child. But it wasn’t enough. No one meal would be enough. Its many eyes turned to look at the distant lights: the town. Those many wings outstretched; too many for just one body. Flapped against each other instead of together, forcing the great bird back to the ground. A piercing shriek of frustration bursted out those many beaks, making the air shake. But it needed to get to town. It needed to feed. The legs stumbled forward, merely tripping instead of crashing down when they too failed to work in tandem. Slowly shuffling to those lights. Those beautiful lights.

Eilidh had a fleeting disappointment watching the man fail prey to his creation. Her hunger still craved, but her mind knew he was more its kill than hers. But she could recognize that wanting — the need to feed more and more. The creature, still but a babe, had the matching appetite of a child. Enough for a town. Those insatiable eyes set on the very place and Eilidh let out a curse. Running down the hill she had been perched to give chase.

Patrolling was a lot more fun when you weren’t doing it alone. It was something Cass had learned pretty early on in her superhero career. There was so much sitting and waiting on a patrol, so much watching without acting. Cass was bad at that. It was so much easier to manage with a distraction, with someone to talk to. It was why Cass had been so pleased when Metzli offered to go with her tonight, why she hadn’t hesitated for a second in taking them up on it.

And it was probably good that she had. There was something weird going on in the woods tonight. She could practically taste it in the air, feel it buzzing beneath her skin. She all but dragged Metzli behind her, chattering all the while. “Tamara — that’s one of the girls I know from the shelter — said she saw some sketchy dude coming out here the last few nights. Apparently he’s a real ‘mutter to yourself under your breath’ kind of guy, which is, like, never a good sign. I just wanna see what he’s up to, you know? It might be nothing, but if there’s another cult starting out here we should probably catch it early.” She was rambling, largely just speaking to break the silence, but Metzli never seemed to mind it much.

She opened her mouth to continue, but a loud boom from the woods cut her off. Faltering, Cass turned to look at Metzli with wide eyes. “Okay,” she said, “so maybe it’s not nothing. C’mon!” It was all the warning she gave before she was running towards the sound without much regard for watching where she was going. It was thanks to this lack of attention to detail that she found herself hurtling into another person, someone who definitely wasn’t the man Tamara had described. Someone familiar. Stumbling backwards, Cass glared. “You,” she snapped, falling into a defensive position.

Metzli always liked when Cass requested their presence in her patrols. Not only did it mean she wanted them around, but she trusted them. There were unspoken meanings in such things, especially to those who had spent so much time alone. Being isolated meant that you were safe, which was true in a way, but the pair had grown to rely on one another, leaving that perspective behind. “Smart girl. In a town like this, nipping cults in the bud is the safest option.” They smirked subtly to themselves, impressed and proud at the initiative Cass took in her work. She truly cared about people and did her best to play a part in their welfare.

Walking carefully next to Cass, they halted abruptly at the sound of echoing shrieks and irregular stomps. They were expecting excitement, but not to this degree. It could prove too much for Cass, and her safety was their top priority. Metzli’s entire body tensed as if hackles were raising, on alert and festering with violence that needed to be executed. Soon that body tensed for a completely different reason, disregarding the beasts that were loose. Eilidh’s familiar scent filled their nose and they saw Cass running straight towards the origin. “Cass, espérate! Wait!” They reached out, grasping nothing but air. The collision was brief and they filled the space between the pair quickly in case Eilidh reacted harshly. If she were hunting for dinner, she’d be sure to lash out. Teeth and all.

The familiarity in Cass’s voice confused Metzli, displayed by the immediate tilt of their head and its subsequent turn to look at their partner, finger raised. “Hola, mi amor. Una momento.” They looked back at Cass, brows furrowed. “You know her?”

The beast was unstable, this was apparent. Eilidh could see those unsure foot placements, those wobbling knees. It tugged at something deep in her heart, for she had watched its birth. Barely a newborn and walking like one. And while she had come to this place to feed, and while a weapon did lay in her hand, the usual stirrings in her chest stuttered. She heard those distant sounds, but they felt distant too. Knowing whoever was near was either running away — like a squirrel by her feet — or running towards the beast — like her. The other didn’t matter, the beast was the focal. But what to do with it? One instinct telling her to bludgeon, the other telling her to nurture. Her feet at least knew its course: chase along. But those hands needed to make their minds. And they finally did, when she was bumped into.

Eilidh recognized the causing form, but the familiarity did not create excitement. She hissed at the sight of that damn mask. Her again. The one who couldn’t keep a simple deal. Come to interrupt another feed. If Eilidh could still call it such, but the point still stood. Finding a much closer outlet for aggression, her hand immediately jerked forward. But it struck another. Metzli. Metzli? This familiarity causing a burst of joy, once it was done combating her perplexity. A confusion that was lost on her face, concealed by goggles and fabrics, but came across in her voice. “You know Songbird?”

The distant lights were so tantalizing. But they were also so distant. Stuck in a body that was never meant to function and convulsing in a hunger that knew no end was a hell the Chimera thought was life. Yet, it wasn’t always so cruel. The three below would not be enough to calm its insatiable. But they were a start. Three bodies for three heads.

That stopped hand was still connected to Metzli, and Eilidh used it to push them away. Using that momentum to shove herself back in turn. Mostly eating air, the head that had chosen her gave a loud snap. But was punctuated with a splatter of black. Razor teeth managing to slice a bit of her chest. The heat was like a sunburn — sore and sweet. She let out a curt laugh from the sensation. Using the surge of excitement to whack her metal rod across the snapping head. Before remembering her confliction and letting out a huff. “Look for water, Datura!” Knowing their eyesight was better in the dark. She felt some was near, the feeling whispering in the back of her head. And she wanted, needed, to find one quick. She couldn’t watch another forest fire. Not so soon. “N’ be careful! Is just a babe!”

The other woman — god, Cass hadn’t even gotten her name before, had she? — seemed as ready for an immediate fight as Cass herself. She wasn’t worried about it or anything, because she could definitely hold her own the same way she had the last time their paths crossed, but she was kind of glad Metzli was with her, anyway. Just in case. It was never a bad idea to have backup, after all, never a bad idea to have someone else on your side. Except…

Metzli was looking at the woman with a gentle expression on their face, was speaking to her in quiet tones. Cass didn’t speak much Spanish, but she’d been around enough of it to recognize basic things like mi amor, enough to recognize the significance of it. “I’m sorry, what?” Was this the girlfriend Metzli had told her about? The one who left them, with no warning and no explanation? Who came back and was accepted so easily, as if nothing happened at all? Cass had been trying to give Metzli’s girlfriend a chance because she made them happy and they deserved that, but she’d already been struggling with it. But now? Now all she wanted was to give this woman a piece of her mind.

(Maybe she should find better phrasing for that. She was pretty sure the stranger didn’t take the corpse’s head just for meanness, before.)

But… now might not be the best time. Cass didn’t know what the creature was, only that it was large and daunting and… bird-like. Immediately, she felt a surge of sympathy towards it, a hint of a connection. It looked lost. And, okay, it was trying to eat Metzli’s girlfriend a little bit, but Cass wasn’t sure that completely put them on different teams. “What is it?” She looked to Metzli, pointedly ignoring the strange woman. “How can we stop it?”

Songbird? A chimera? Macleod? What the hell was going on? Metzli’s mind was reeling with a surge of questions that had to be left unanswered. They were pushed back just as they caught sight of the horrid creature that was looking at both the vampire and zombie as dinner. With a nod at Eilidh, they pulled Cass with them, “On it! Be careful, mi alma!” They could smell water a couple hundred yards away. They could help.

“That’s a chimera. It likes to eat dead things like me and…” Eyes darted towards Macleod, who was managing to keep the chimera distracted for the time-being. “Macleod. My girlfriend.” Metzli cleared their throat and sighed, “I’m gonna lure it to the water. You go with Macleod and be my backup. I have the best senses in this scenario and will need to lead it.”

There wasn’t just one meal anymore. There were three. But which one to pick? Why not all? But which first? The Chimera screeched, salivating from all heads, each pulling in separate directions. One at a time wasn’t an ideal option, but it was better than no option at all.

Metzli waved their arms, baring their teeth in reaction to the screech. “Hey! Over here!” Their simple yelling got its attention, and it ran in their direction with fervor. It didn’t scare them to have such a beast stampeding at them, but what did scare them was the possibility of two people they loved getting hurt. That’s why when teeth grazed their shoulder, they didn’t scream. They kept running, enticing the chimera with a trail of their dead blood to the river only they saw.

Eilidh’s limbs may’ve been distracted with the hungry child who thought her a meal, but ears were free to listen. In between stomps and shrieks, she heard her name fill the air. Spoken so casually. Spoken to one who shouldn’t know. An annoyance, enough to garner a hiss, but a minor one. She chose to be claimed to that name. But not to fucking ‘dead thing.’ Dead thing! Her feet faltered at that — growl like a mad dog’s bark. Anger blinding, letting the insatiable beast get another small bite of her. Symbolic, for her mind was equally torn. Oh, she wanted to stab everyone in this scenario. Except not really. Except very much yes. But, no, two kids and her love wasn’t the most ideal frenzy scenario. She looked to one of the formers. That poor stumbling thing. So hungry — too hungry for this place. Like the fires it had as skin.

When a great limb thrashed at Eilidh, she didn’t try for deep wounds. No sharp objects. Just another whack. Strong and forceful to match the great beast’s girth. The intention of one smacking with a newspaper. And in the stun it caused, she was able to gain on Metzli. She had noticed their purposeful steps. They had found something. But she wasn’t the only one closing the gap between. The chimera felt it had Metzli too, their distracting calls proving too persuasive. Her own calls simple background noise. Its stumbling soon gave way to a steady walk. Part of her felt a sense of pride in watching those first true steps. But they were leading to her lover’s demise. Her teeth clenched. The pride in mind was quickly replaced with a need to protect, just as her rod in hand was replaced with rope.

But it wasn’t a simple rope, one end tied in a circle. Eilidh lassoed one of the heads. Sort of. It got stuck in ones horn, but the stuck was her ultimate intention. It carried her along with ease, their differences in size demanding. But her weight, while smaller, wasn’t ignorable. The attached head began to thrash and she was lifted in the air. Learned to fly for a brief moment, just as the beast had. And in that echo, she too crashed just as soon to the ground. But when she gained purchase, she followed the momentum and shoved her end of the rope further down. Jerking the head, and this finally got its attention. That rope began to unfurl as the fires ate the fabrics. Just as it wanted to do of her. She ran: Metzli’s direction but at a slight angle. Giving them a moment to recuperate as she helped lead it forward. To that distant shine in the dark. Water. Probably.

It grated on her, the softness with which Metzli spoke to the woman, to Macleod. Cass knew it wasn’t fair, wasn’t right, but it did anyway. Her first encounter with Macleod, with the vampires and the bloody nose and the dead man she’d been too busy to save, it had hurt. It had been scary, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Macleod had been scary. And Metzli was supposed to be on Cass’s side against the things and the people that scared her. Weren’t they?

And Cass knew, on a logical level, that none of this was true. Cass had run into Macleod once, for a moment, and neither of them had been at their best. Metzli obviously knew her better, knew her well enough to love her. It wasn’t fair to judge someone entirely on one encounter and assume the worst when people who’d known them longer didn’t share in that assumption, but Cass struggled, sometimes, to be fair in her friendships. She’d had so few of them. There really wasn’t a lot of experience to draw on.

Whirling to face Metzli as they spoke, Cass sputtered for a moment. “What — Why do I have to stay with her? I want to go with you.” She trusted Metzli to watch her back. Macleod? Not so much. Given how things went the last time they met, she wasn’t entirely convinced that Macleod wasn’t going to feed her to the chimera as soon as Metzli’s back was turned. Just because she hadn’t killed her when those vampires got away didn’t mean she was trustworthy. But Metzli was already moving, because there wasn’t really time for Cass’s protests. There was a giant bird-thing trying to eat them all, so… Maybe being petty wasn’t the best course of action. Maybe.

Still, Cass was tense as she turned back to Macleod. She watched her for a moment, hating how impressive it was to see her lasso one of the chimera’s heads with her rope, hating how she seemed to know exactly what to do while Cass was at a loss. The chimera seemed far more content to focus on Macleod and Metzli than Cass, bringing Metzli’s explanation back to mind. It eats dead things. Cass wasn’t invisible here, but… She was an afterthought. Something the creature wasn’t focusing on at the moment. She could use that.

Slipping behind the chimera, Cass followed along with a watchful eye, waiting for the right moment. When the beast was distracted, both by Metzli’s shouts and by Macleod’s attacks, Cass took a running leap and jumped, climbing onto its back. There wasn’t much left of the rope Macleod had used to lasso the thing, but Cass grabbed it anyway. Like a harness, like a rein. She’d never ridden a horse, but she was pretty sure she got the concept. Control the head, control the body. This one just… had a few more heads to control.

Thank goodness Cass listened because that would’ve set off a whole different slew of problems. Ones that Metzli didn’t really feel like calculating for. Not when a giant beast was hurling one of its many mouths at them. The ground caved into the pressure of the attack, missing the vampire by mere inches thanks to their evasion. It continued to run past, leaving fire to spread on the grass, but being put out quickly by several swift stomps. Macleod didn’t want another fire. The greenery was too precious and had been hurt too recently. They knew she didn’t want to see the violence again.

“Cass!” Metzli took notice of her recklessness, frantic to get to her before flames ate away at everything. Macleod would be fine. She always was. Even while she was being pulled into the air, she would be okay. Like a cat, she’d land on her feet and continue. “Cass, you need to get down!” There was too much happening. They weren’t sure if Cass could even hear them. Growling, they ran as fast as they could, gaining on the creature until they could jump, landing next to their friend. “Amor, the river is just up ahead!” They pointed from their perch, planting a hand on Cass’s shoulder. “Jump off when I say.”

The chimera was hot, surrounding the pair with the raging scent of burning dead flesh. Metzli looked around with haste, seeing the rope fray with the fire. Control would soon be lost. What little there was anyway. They rushed to take off their hoodie, slapping the fire with it. It was hardly of any use, but it kept them from getting burned while they waited for the water to come into view. When it did, the vampire told Cass to jump, threw the hoodie onto a head and followed immediately after their garment to force the chimera into the river with a giant splash.

Eilidh watched the amount of people clinging to the beast’s back jump from one to two. She the only one whose feet knew of the ground. That and the chimera’s. Both beast and woman realized this at the same time, sharing a knowing look. Before the predator set its sights on the easiest prey. She kept her course true, trusting that the approaching twinkling was water. The one she wanted to swim was certainly growing into those legs, reaching speed previously unseen. She could hear one head breathing near her ear. Knew her flesh would very soon replace the breath if she wasn’t quick. No time could be wasted on retrieving a weapon. That great maw opened, the teeth prepared. But hers did as well. She bit into her own, severing an index finger. Spit it hastily into the air. And the beast wanted the easiest prey. It snapped at the offering, leaving her head untouched. In its moment of satisfaction, she was given a few more steps ahead. Until one made a loud crashing sound. Water.

The water was a thief. It stole the Chimera’s blazing skin, replacing with that of simple flesh. Fire was powerful, and its absence was strongly felt. The sudden weakness made the legs, who had just known stability, buckle and sway. The only remaining strength was the hunger. And it grew in full, roused by its newfound desperation. It began to bite at everyone and everything, not just the woman before it. Snapping and thrashing at the two who tried to leave its back.

The fire of the skin may have died, but not the flames of hunger. Eilidh could recognize the look, or looks, in its eyes. Such a hunger forced more teeth upon her. But she had already returned her rod to her hands. The teeth met it instead of her. Force pushing both her and the head down, submerged into water. With no lungs to cry out, she could stay down there forever. But the head kept pushing — kept inching the teeth closer. Until it started to tear into her abdomen. Fire filled her belly as her mouth filled with flesh. Her own teeth tearing at the beast’s eyes, the close proximity permitting. After both were lost passed her throat, the beast finally relented. Pulling out from the waters to release a scream on the wind. She stood, contents of her gut spilling further into the water. Surely tainting it with blackness, but she couldn’t tell. She only had the mind to attack the head again, another beating of her rod. And she knew she should go for more fatal wounds. Before the other heads remembered her. Before the first head recovered. The skin was exposed, revealing all those soft bits. But she found her hand hesitated. Found it only wanted to smack. The beast was only a babe.

Eilidh cursed under her breath. Goggles lost in the skirmish, she looked up at the great beast with clear eyes. “Bà bà, leanab! Fuck. Can find you food!” Her attempts at reasoning would be better spent on a brick wall. Reduced to just more whacking as a limb tried to swipe at her.

Even with her costume’s flame resistant fabric, the heat was nearly unbearable. Cass forced herself to stay on the beast’s back in spite of it, even as her skin blistered and sweat poured from every surface. Heroism was about taking everything you could stand to take and multiplying it by a thousand, was about doing the best thing even when it wasn’t the smartest. (It was never the smartest. Cass knew that.)

Metzli’s sudden presence at her side wasn’t as unexpected as she might have hoped for it to be, because Metzli tended to follow Cass’s lead even when it wasn’t a very good lead to follow. Cass felt a heat in her chest that had nothing to do with the flames surrounding them and everything to do with the guilt of knowing that Metzli might get hurt because of her, but she pushed the feeling down. It wasn’t important now. What was important was steering the proverbial ship into the water before it could set the forest and the town and everything between the two on fire with it.

Nodding at Metzli’s instruction, Cass closed her eyes for a moment. The heat was building, the fabric of her costume beginning to bend to it. It hurt. Everything hurt. And then…

Metzli yelled for her to jump, and Cass didn’t need to be told twice. She met the ground in a graceless tumble, wincing as her shoulder hit the dirt before the rest of her. That was going to hurt tomorrow. Probably the next day, too. Definitely the day after. What kind of health insurance did Spider-Man have? Cass wondered if there was a similar plan available in White Crest.

Forcing herself to her feet, Cass rushed to the river’s edge, trying to make out the fight happening beneath the surface of the water. It was hard to tell what was happening. The water was murky with more than just dirt, Cass suspected. A strange sense of concern tugged at her gut because as uncertain as she was about Macleod, she loved Metzli and they loved the zombie. Cass didn’t want anything to happen to her, even if she was still sour over their first meeting, over the heartbroken texts Metzli had sent after she left town.

Woman and beast surfaced together, and Cass rushed over, ready to jump into the fray again. Macleod looked hurt badly, but the wounds didn’t seem to bother her and Cass realized just how little she knew about how the undead processed pain. It seemed like the zombie was trying to speak to the creature, trying to reason with it. Cass, too, longed for a peaceful solution. This thing hadn’t asked to be born the way it had. It hadn’t asked to come into the world, confused and uncertain with wings that couldn’t keep it in the air and feet that weren’t enough to keep it steady. Turning to Metzli, she swallowed. “Can we help it?” She’d trust the vampire’s answer, whatever it was. She knew they’d be honest with her, just as they always were.

Water went everywhere as the vampire was flipped into the river, submerging Metzli and burying them below what could be called the chimera’s torso. They screamed, seeing walls surround them and hearing the splashes turn into grains of sand. Fists plunged into the creature over and over again, pulling thick, black ooze. Bits of flesh and random bits of god-knows-what splattered onto their face. A painful screech emitted from the Chimera and it began to move again. The body relented, much to their relief, but the sand persisted. Body shook, stuck in place as the chimera continued with its search for food. Pupils slowly grew from pinpoints, reality coming back to Metzli.

When they finally stumbled to their feet, red eyes fell onto their injured partner and scared sister who was asking them what to do. What else was there to do but kill it? The hunger would never cease, and wasn’t that a hell on its own? Poor beast didn’t ask to be made. Like Macleod said, it was just a babe. An innocent animal that was too broken since its birth. Metzli had worked on a farm long enough to know what the answer was. They didn’t like it, and they knew Macleod really wouldn’t like it, but it was the only way. Swallowing, they finally answered defeatedly. “We can’t, Cass. I’m sorry.”

The Chimera didn’t like the feeling of pain. It just wanted to eat. It needed to eat. Thrashing at the things hurting it didn’t bear any fruit. Only seemed to tire it out with each swing they evaded. But they had one of them in their sights now. It was on the ground, spewing delicious contents. The chimera wanted those contents.

Metzli crouched and leapt towards the swinging limb that was heading toward Eilidh, not letting it connect with their partner. The power behind it pushed their body a few inches, but they planted their feet well and had secured the head in their hands. Other heads snapped teeth, crashed into everything clumsily, and fought hard to move, but Metzli wouldn’t let go. The head they had in their grasp provided enough cover from the other two thankfully. “Amor, I think we have to put it down. It’s suffering. It will never stop suffering.” They waited for an answer, hoping it’d come soon as their fingers were sinking further into the decayed and burned flesh.

The trio reformed back on the ground. Eilidh hardly had the attention to spare to give them both their dues. Glancing only enough to ensure they weren’t dead or close to, before focusing back on the beast that wanted such things. Her hands continued in motion to stop that fate. Though her ears remained with the two, for those grunts and shrieks from the chimera were lost on her. Catching that opposition in tone. Words were hard to capture, but meaning was still found in the inflections. The hesitation of the masked one, which she wanted to nurture to opposition. Until it was shot down by the bleak resolution of Metzli. Want of coaxing died, replaced with a need for quarrel. Her own harsh tones readying to mix with the others. But the limbs heading her way grew in number. Making her waiting words become simple growls.

Eilidh kept up that constant whacking. Power from before lost as her energies were split between healing and defending. It was just enough to keep the claws at bay, but only enough. She nearly dealt one blow on Metzli as they jumped between. Letting out a bark of fear, she reeled back. Managing to merely clip Metzli instead of bludgeon. She hardly had the space to feel remorse, as Metzli continued their resistance. “They’re just fucking hungry!” That was what babies did: they hungered. Even the smallest wailed under its might, and this poor thing had the size to make it unbearable. But only until they were fed. The town a suitable offering, but she had already dashed that idea. Humans would crumble under its might. It would cause devastation — lead to too much bloodshed. And the hunters… Oh, they would love to kill this poor babe, wouldn’t they? She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction — those who killed for mere pleasure.

Eilidh looked to the one whose name still escaped her. “There is a thing to do.” Metzli may not see it, but she would sway both. All she needed was to find food. To the woods. The woods, yes! All hers came from such, a bearer of many. She stepped further back, practically swimming, and… swimming… Oh! All water leads to its Mother, the ocean. Yes. Yes. Yes. The woods would be convenient, but the ocean! Mother of all, and the protector of many. Embraced by her darkness — nursed by her creations. Yes! The babe would find many to eat and many to contend, for she’s a mother of dangers too. A death that would be put to use. But first, it could live. Eilidh went further into the depths until her feet no longer found the bottom. The current whisked her away; into a darkness she knew would end in salt waters. “C’mon, leanab! To food! To food!”

In the movies, the heroes always won. The losses happened, sure, but they were an afterthought. A thing behind the scenes, a quick shot of something tragic that was quickly swept away by the triumph that followed in the next heartbeat. Real life was never so cut and dry. In real life, being a hero meant that sometimes, you couldn’t save everyone. Sometimes, there was a bird and it was young and pained and suffering through an existence it hadn’t asked for, brought upon it by someone who’d never once considered what it might want, and you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t convince its wings to carry it off the ground, couldn’t talk its beaks into consuming something without hurting. There were some birds that would never fly. Cass ached with it, just a little.

But… in spite of Metzli’s words, Macleod seemed to have another idea in mind. She didn’t voice her plan aloud, and Cass certainly didn’t know her well enough to wager a guess, but the eagerness to her voice, the way her eyes lit up, it seemed to imply that there was something she thought might work. And Cass didn’t know if she trusted her, still, but she wanted a way to save this bird. She wanted to push away the idea that there were some things that were just lost causes, wanted to bury her head in the proverbial sand and pretend that any bird could get off the ground if only it was given a chance.

She couldn’t jump into the water with Macleod, not with the chimera thrashing about the way it was. Unlike the two undead in her company, Cass still kind of needed to breathe. And she enjoyed breathing. It was, frankly, one of her favorite hobbies. What she could do was run alongside the pair on the riverbank, ready to coax the chimera back into the water if it tried to climb out. Whatever Macleod’s plan was, it seemed to hinge on the bird staying in the river. And since it wasn’t one fire as long as it was soaked, Cass tended to like the concept.

“Where are we going?” She called, glancing back at Metzli and hoping that they would have the answer if Macleod wouldn’t provide it. Macleod might not be an entirely reliable source, but Metzli was. And they knew the zombie. Well enough to get that soft look in their eyes when she was near, well enough to seem to know what she was planning even when she didn’t say as much in words, well enough to trust her entirely.

“No! Macleod, they’re not suffering because they’re hungry! They’re—” Metzli sighed, realizing that their partner’s gears were going at full speed in her head. She was coming up with a plan, and the confirmation was given by her excited proclamation. Bleary eyes looked to her and then to Macleod. A haziness attempted to take over their senses, still reeling from the panic that came with being buried underneath the chimera’s weight. Shaking their head, they recentered themselves and smiled, a hint of weariness clinging onto their lips as they swiveled around to acknowledge Cass and her question with a shrug.

Metzli had no idea what the plan was, but if it meant making two people they loved work together and happy by saving the creature, they’d do anything. “No idea where we’re going, but I do know if she has a plan, it’s best to not ask too many questions or you’ll get left behind.” Their hand grasped Cass’s, pulling her with them to trail after the chimera as it chased after Eilidh while she made herself enticing with each exclamation. Whatever was going to happen next, they knew they could trust Macleod. Even if something went wrong, she would put their lives above the creature, regardless of how badly she wanted to save it. They just needed to put themselves at her disposal, for whatever plan she had in mind.

“Cass, I’m gonna throw you onto its back! You’re gonna try to stay on there to steer it wherever we go, okay?!” Metzli pulled Cass’s hand without waiting for an answer, shifting her to stand on their shoulder as they ran, and threw her into the air. Her trajectory was straight and true, landing her straight onto the beast. Metzli stopped to watch for a few moments, ensuring she was safely planted before bounding forward to run beside Eilidh with the chimera in tow behind them. “Just tell me where to be and what to do, and I’ll do it. Promise.”

The Chimera’s hatred for the water meant nothing compared to the hunger. It saw its prey slip into its hold, and it simply had to follow, letting that thief take it in full. Those screams and calls drew it closer; made it learn to swim in their persuasion. Focus fully placed, until there was a change in weight. The waters rising higher on its body as a force pushed it down. Small, but not unnoticeable. There was a piercing shriek in its throats, a start to turn its many heads. But the calls in the water grew louder and more frequent, beckoning them back to the current. The source, the prey, easier to see even in the dark.

“Aye! Look to me! Just me! Swim!” Eilidh called out, stubbornness not letting its eyes off of her. Keeping its course true. The fire in her belly was quieting, as if the waters could douse them too. Returned some strength to her limbs, for it was no longer divided. A much needed return — the current was strong but it was not swift. And the beast had many compared to her four limbs; all of hers needed to work to keep ahead. Yet, in the departing flow of her weakness, a hunger was left. Filled in the void in her stomach, same as that regrowing tissue. Teeth chattered at the babe, calling the predator inside. She wouldn’t let herself; couldn’t let herself. Except, perhaps, a little. A head stretched out, latching onto just water thrice as she maneuvered away. But the fourth struck true, and she bit in return. Its fangs latched onto her arm, her own gripping its snout. The great maw tried to break her arm, release it from the rest of her. Yet as it pressed down, those bones merely bent with the pressure instead of snapping. The flesh of the maw, though, slipped into her throat with the ease of decay. She grumbled in delight at the offering, as her other hand repeated that recurring rhythm: whack, whack, whack. The beast finally released her, but not empty handed. It too retrieved offerings; the maw dripping in black, leaving chunks of her arm bare. From those new voids birthed more chatterings in her mouth.

“THE OCEAN!” Eilidh tried to speak to her love in a normal manner, but it was hardly more than a snarl. The predator nestled in head, in her teeth. Wanted more flesh and saw one who had so much to offer. She mustn’t. It was a babe, it was a babe, it was a babe. And yet her eyes looked at the babe, the beast, the prey with the same look as it gave her. Only a matter of time before the two devoured each other, hunger finally satisfied in their shared deaths. She licked her lips, the taste so lovely despite the dread in her chest. She mustn’t. She won’t. Sounds of the approaching ocean reminded her of that gentle side, the one who still wanted to nurture. The one who saw a poor baby and did the most natural thing: try and help. The one who was struggling to keep her hands to swimming inside of tearing away that sweet flesh. Her teeth continued to click, her hands continued to paddle — both sides at a stalemate.

It was clear that Metzli didn’t like the idea of saving the chimera, but it was also clear that they’d go along with it so long as Macleod and Cass were in agreement. And despite the distrust gnawing at her gut, despite the unease she felt with Macleod near, despite the memory of that dark night and that dead man and those vampires who got away even though they probably shouldn’t have, Cass knew that she and Macleod were in agreement on this. The chimera hadn’t asked to be born from an egg, drenched in the confusion of an existence it didn’t understand. It didn’t deserve to die for that. It didn’t.

So they surged forward. Cass nodded at Metzli’s words, climbed onto their shoulders and let them launch her through the air without a moment’s hesitation because she trusted them so completely, so entirely. She grabbed at the chimera’s centermost head, used it to steer the beast while Macleod baited it from the front. She let herself think things would be fine, things would be good.

And then, Macleod started taking bites out of the bird.

The horror twisting in her gut had little to do with the chimera, despite how much she’d latched onto the beast and its neverending metaphor. Cass knew it had far more to do with that night in the woods, with the dead man and the guilt his bloody corpse left her with. The reaction wasn’t even entirely one she meant to have — it was instinctive. She saw Macleod pull away from the bird with flesh in her mouth, and she flinched back with her arms still circling its head. She flinched back, and she pulled the bird’s head back with her. It changed direction to compensate, but there wasn’t much space in the river, wasn’t much room.

It hit one side of the riverbank, panicking when it did. Swimming was such a new sensation for it; it didn’t know how to keep afloat among the chaos of it all. It was almost funny; Cass would have thought that, with the size of the thing, it would sink like a boat. Slowly capsizing, lowering itself down bit by bit. But the reality was quicker than that. It sunk all at once, flailing limbs it hardly knew what to do with, sending blood into the water, and Cass couldn’t tell which way was up. The bird’s panic felt contagious, seeping into her where she held it, spreading through her veins. She barely had enough time to gulp a breath of air before she was underwater, so tangled with the chimera that it was hard to tell which bird was which.

If it had been months before, Metzli wouldn’t have understood Eilidh’s snarl, but they spoke the tongue of her hunger now, and knew immediately what she planned for the chimera. Nature called for water to flow and congregate, this one just so happened to go to the ocean, where the creature could feed without hurting much else. Yes, that plan would work. For all parties. Darting forward on land, they watched as Cass managed to steer the chimera into a manageable position and how it even failed to find purchase to escape the current. It was just too deep. And that made panic set in quite visibly, sending Metzli into a panic themselves. Both Macleod and Cass were in danger and they went hurtling into the water. “Cass! Macleod!” If they weren’t quick, one would drown and one would lose themself in a way they’d regret. They couldn’t let either happen.

Metzli lost sight of both their loved ones, watching them be swept under. Without hesitation, they dove, causing anxiety to rise as darkness surrounded them. They too wanted to match the panicked energy that had been released into the air, but they couldn’t. Pushing past it, Metzli wrapped each arm around Macleod and Cass, kicking off of the chimera to shove them to the surface and provide momentum to its new destination.

Eilidh fought back, thrashing and wanting to be set free, but they didn’t budge, despite how exhaustion was beginning to set in. “Querida! It’s okay. It’s okay! It’ll get to the ocean. It will. It’s free. Cálmate, por favor. You saved it.” Metzli maneuvered their way to the edge of the river and helped Cass back onto land, staying in with Macleod as she continued to thrash. They knew how reactive she could get and wanted to ensure Cass was safe while they tended to their partner.

There was darkness. Swirling and churning — turning Eilidh’s world into its making. As if she was stuck in that growing void inside, the one where her hunger laid. Made herself lost to it in those moments. The light came, as it eventually did with varying degrees of urgency, but not by her own doing. Forced into it just as the dark, but that need to bite remained. The only thing that felt like a given choice. So, thrash and bash she did. Knowing nothing but that someone, something, was on her. Grabbing her. Wanting to steal from her; to cover her in so many cracks that only the hunger could remain. And she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She still needed to help and the hunger was not compliant. But then, she heard that familiar voice. Close to her ears: urgent but soothing. There was a sudden pause, caused by a sudden confusion. More flailing followed, but they more like echoes. Softer. Simply wanting to be set free, so they could be used to swim. To guide. Yes! The chimera. She needed to guide the chimera. But she was no longer in the depths of those waters, her feet able to stand. No. That wasn’t right. She needed to return.

Eilidh twisted around in Metzli’s hold. Looking back out to that shimmer in the dark — to that current she wanted to be swept back up in. But there were breaks in the twinkling waters. Patches of dark that were moving, where parts of the submerged beast breached. All advancing towards the waves, until they wrapped the babe in their hold. Pulled it into the ocean’s welcoming embrace. Her growl was still there, having made its home in her throat, but her tone was lighter. Much lighter. “Go! Go, you fucking Eun Uisge!”

The waters were heavy and constricting. Nothing like the air the Chimera was made for. It knew so deep in its core even if the sky would never grace its wings. Knew so deeply it tried to go up, again, in a blind attempt to be free. But the current was unrelenting, and it had nothing to show for its efforts. Simply pulled further down and further out. Spat out into an emptiness, but it was not a lonely one. Nearby, the beast could see it. Movement. And wants of scurrying creatures or of distant twinkling left its thoughts. Hunger focused on the closest prey, and its limbs were sent into a frenzy trying to get closer. Those wings joined the excitement, and they all felt a give. A give that did not end in a crash, in a burst of pain and frustration, but in movement. Awkward bursts of such, as all its movements had been. But it was movement. Assured movement. And after many fumbles and incorrect directions, those wings found a rhythm. Made it feel, for the first time in its short life, deep in the waters of the ocean, that it could fly. And it flew. To the food that did not fight back, but surrendered to its many mouths. It wasn’t enough, not nearly. But it was a start.

The water was deep and cold and dark. Cass forced her eyes open, but she couldn’t see anything beyond murky shapes, couldn’t tell which way was up and which was down. She was a decent enough swimmer, but not when she couldn’t tell what she was meant to be swimming towards. Not when there was a patchwork bird flailing around and a hungry zombie snapping at the currents. Her lungs burned, and she pursed her lips together tightly to keep herself from inhaling the water instinctively, grit her teeth beneath them. It was pointless. She was going to drown, was going to die because of her own stupid mistakes, was going to —

An arm wrapped around her midsection. Foolishly, her first instinct was to kick against it, to fight her way free, but after a heartbeat she realized she recognized the tightness of the hold. Metzli. If there’d been air in her lungs, she would have heaved a sigh of relief. As it was, she only relaxed and let them do all the work to get her to the surface.

When they pushed passed the water and onto the shore, Cass sucked in a greedy breath of air, gasping and sputtering. She’d barely met the ground before she was turning back to the river frantically, searching for the creature. Beaks broke the surface, the current pulling the bird towards the ocean, and Cass understood now. In the air, the bird would never be able to fly. But in the water? It could. She sighed, swallowing around the lump that had formed in her throat.

Tentatively, she turned back to her undead companions. “It’ll be okay, right?” There was an apology hidden behind the words, but Cass was only good at saying those out loud when she didn’t mean them. She wasn’t good at apologizing when she was sorry. She only knew how to do it in moments of desperation.

“This better not be one of those prank calls.” With an annoyed groan and a mildly disinterested sigh, Anton begrudgingly parked the white van with his company’s name in bold letters on its side into the otherwise empty designated parking space of the White Crest National Park. He faintly remembered his late grandfather taking him to this place when he was just a tiny tot, though for the life of him, he could no longer recall anything else about that visit. Park’s big, that about sums up all he knows of the place now. 

Bug Busters Pest Control Solutions received the call while he was about to Netflix and chill, and while their so-called employer insisted on staying anonymous on the other end of the line, the Girl verified that whoever they were, they had already paid in full. Online. Anton wasn’t too savvy about how that whole thing worked but he trusts the Girl in these matters. Why would she lie? She was getting her pay from the same account, and as much as she doesn’t respect him, at least not on the surface, she can’t deny that they both need the money. Besides, he had already seen the same zombie movie at least three times.

Dragging himself out of the vehicle, he took his time making his way to the back of it where his tools waited for him. Most of it was standard exterminator gear. The rest? Just a few contingencies from his less public career as a pest hunter. Also a jar of peanut butter, but that’s not for him. “Where do I even fucking start?” He wasn’t even inside the park yet when he started complaining. Overgrown spiders. That’s what the caller said they were. The size of a dog? Anton already knew what they actually were. His late grandfather hated the damned things, and there was no doubt he’d hate them, too. If he even gets to find them.

It started with a deer. A family had been perusing about one of the main trails. One of the supposedly safe trails. They had stopped to gaze upon a grazing doe. The child had begged and begged and begged to be placed on their father’s shoulders, and they got their wish just as the deer began to move. The small group watched in awed silence as she inspected the forest floor, searching for her next meal. But before she could find it, the forest floor made a meal of her. It opened up wide, gripped her tight, and pulled her below. Similar instances followed, and the Park was sent into a frenzy. Eilidh, naturally, made herself involved.

Talks of eradication filled the office. But they were too afraid to state anything plainly, too afraid to even admit that they knew what truly lurked within the nearby wood. Eilidh was more direct. “Fuck no.” These creatures, these carachs, only crime was existing in view of humans. It was clear her perspective was not the majority. The carachs posed a threat, and while it had yet to be acted on, they would not wait until it was too late. Eilidh offered a solution. Let her try. The Park was full of restricted areas away from any wandering pedestrian. Away from this potential threat. They could be relocated there. Let her try.

So, she would try. Alone.

Whatever. Less eyes meant she could utilize all of her abilities. After taking a moment to secure some supplies, which became nestled within her backpack, she headed off onto her task. And was immediately struck with the sight of Bug Busters Pest Control Solutions glaring back at her. “Those cunts!” Someone must’ve called while she was distracted, because no one had made any clear moves to dissuade whoever the vehicle belonged to, for it sat undisturbed. “This is a National Park, you don’t call a fucking exterminator!” She yelled at one of her coworkers who made the mistake of walking by. They simply stared with frightened eyes, having no clue what she was talking about. With a frustrated shout, she ran over to the car. When a man, supposedly the owner, came into view, she pointed threateningly. “No! No! Fuck off! We don’t need your kind of help!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! That’s not a very warm welcome.” On any other day, Anton would’ve smirked at the sight of a tiny angry person screaming at her, what the much taller man definitely finds hilarious. For some reason. But today was not one of those days. Anton was tired. Anton was exhausted. Anton just wanted to get this job done. “What seems to be the problem, ma’am? We’re just responding to a call.”

Yes, he was, but no, he already knew what the problem was. The damn carachs, of course. He should’ve expected they’d find their way to a place like this, a place big enough where they could hide somewhere and eat something without the prying eyes of the more mundane humans. Unfortunately, the eight-legged freaks must’ve messed up, one of those mundane creatures saw them do something, and now Anton and his need for money was caught in the middle of the overgrown spiders and whatever the heck this small but pretty attractive woman’s problem was.

“I’m Anton. Anton Grant.” He thought introducing himself would make any difference, offering her one of his patented charming smiles that didn’t actually have that much of a success rate, if only serving to catch others off-guard for a brief moment or two. He doubled down with an extended hand, his dark brown eyes moving from her towards the other park personnel whose own curiosities lured them to this less than pleasant encounter. 

“Bug Busters Pest Control Solutions, the best pest control service in town, by the way, is here to help. Someone called about…” He looked around them before leaning in for a whisper. “...a spider problem…” He then moved back to resume the normal volume of his voice. Just in case one of those other personnel would end up a potential customer. “We’re here to take care of it. Professionally.”

Out of a misguided attempt to sound professional, he emphasized the pronoun we throughout his spiel, even though it was clear as day that he was alone.

Eilidh rolled her eyes, not feeling any guilt for her outburst. “Respond to another call.” She wasn’t even given a second of trust before she was undermined by this outsourced ‘help.’ While she truly loved her job and the opportunities it presented to her, sometimes she hated the other people involved. Even though most were relatively sympathetic, there was still a clear bias against the supernatural. Even with visitors outwardly acknowledging the dangers, if someone cried monster too many times, the monster must be dealt with. Often cruelly. Always have to keep up pretenses. Even here.

As ‘Anton’ flashed a smile, she only blinked in response, already trying to forget the name. His hand extended forward, perhaps in an attempt at peace. Eilidh chose the opposite. Her own palms placed firmly on her hips with no want of moving. The effect was lost as another took his offered hand, whether from genuine interest or to alleviate some of the tension set ablaze by her passions. Didn’t matter either way. Angry eyes locked onto them and fearing they too would get caught in the flame, they yielded, taking a step back. The two of them still had an audience, but a ring of emptiness encircled them. A distinction between onlooker and participant.  

A spider problem. The way it was spoken, as if a secret, like so many that filled this town, showed her he was probably aware of what truly lurked out there. An actual professional. Or an overconfident fool. So, either someone who could actually do damage, or someone whose death would add more fuel to the fear. Neither alternative would be beneficial. “Look, I ‘ave the ‘spider problem’ handled. So, get the fuck out of-”

She was interrupted by a voice from behind. A superior. They informed her that the Park was exploring all the options given to them. And that if her idea worked, the exterminator wouldn’t need to do his job anyway. Said in a way that was clear they wanted to scream fuck just as Eilidh had and will again, but professionalism prevented such a thing. Pretenses, pretenses. So, her options were clear. Work fast, and maybe, maybe be able to save some of the carachs… Fuck, she didn’t even have a clear plan! But the other conclusion was all the carachs dead, for she wasn’t fast enough.

She looked at Anton. Then bolted into the woods. 

There is no other call. Anton wanted to just dryly tell her the truth, that his line of work wasn’t as stable as hers, and because of that, he needs to respond to every call he gets. Otherwise, his late grandfather might start haunting him, too, for letting his business go down the drain. Like his body. The past few weeks were pretty good for Bug Busters Pest Control Solutions, though, which was a little odd to think and smile about right then and there, considering he technically should thank all the bugs and rodents he had to put down for always keeping him warm and fed.

“Okay…” The lady was as rude as she was cute confirmed. Fortunately, she wasn’t the only park personnel around, and he gave the more courteous one a nod and the most charming smile he could ever muster. A stolen glimpse of the still infuriated rude woman, however, slowly chased that smile off of his face. Like she chased the other employee off. Without even moving. Damn, she’s good. He’d almost believed that she did have everything under control, too, because despite her size and her rudeness, her fire reminded her of someone else’s, someone who proved him wrong and handled herself beyond his misinformed expectations. But then someone else stepped forward and corrected her. Oof.

“Well then, I guess if there’s nothing else…” He almost gulped when she looked back at him, his mind already wincing even though it was just one look. The last thing he needed was to get slapped, punched, or even kicked between the legs. He’s suffered all three before, in public, so he was always wary of those possibilities. Still, he had a job to do, especially now that the rest of the park seems to be on his side more than hers. “I’ll just—” He cut himself off when she bolted into the woods. Okay… I guess she really hates my guts. Turning to the rest of the personnel, he just offered them a shrug before calmly walking behind her, as another quickly briefed him on their spider problem. 

She ran. And ran. Eilidh wasn’t even sure what she was going to do when she got to her destination. But she knew how to run. So, run she did.

A patch of dirt caught her attention. Small circle of brown contrasting the great expanse of green. It hadn’t been there the day before. Odd. Curiosity compelled her forward, and curiosity paid off. As a foot just barely pressed upon the transitional point between grass and ‘dirt,’ the ground stirred, revealing it wasn’t ground at all. The carach was only the size of a football, but it attacked her with the ferocity of a lion. Fangs pierced her leg, injecting it with a paralyzing agent. But as it worked its way through her body, it couldn’t take hold. She knelt down, the carach still clinging to her leg, as if waiting for its toxins to strip her of all movement. She simply held it in her unaffected hands. It lurched forward, and after a moment of struggle, it escaped from her. It returned to its burrow. She fished out a tarp from her bag. Repeating the previous steps, the carach was once again in her grasp, but before it could escape her, she wrapped the tarp around its body, securing the ends in tight fists.

It fought. Desperately. Holes formed in the tarp as its eight legs went haywire. But not enough to fully rip. After a tense moment of struggle, on both the carach’s and Eilidh’s part, all motion ceased. Acceptance. She picked up the makeshift carach carrier. The contents gave one last struggle before calming again. But this all wasn’t a victory yet. She started running again, but slower, taking care not to jostle her unwilling companion. After a satisfying amount of distance was achieved between her last and current position, she opened the tarp. The carach sprung forward. When it landed, it immediately took off. Time to see if this would work. She watched as the creature scurried for a minute, before settling into the ground just as it had been when she first found it. Success!

She should probably get more tarps. Bigger tarps.

Turning back to where she came, she headed back for more supplies.

Into the Woods was a movie Anton enjoyed, though not everyone shared the notion. As he made his way through the park’s main trails, where the supposed tragedy had happened, Anton couldn’t help but hum along to the titular song that he was playing through his phone. Once he was where he thought he needed to be, the exact spot where the carachs consumed their hapless victims, he warily took out his spear and started prodding the forest floor. Since the eight-legged freaks were fond of burrowing into the ground, with their abdomens mimicking  piles of leaves, or even rocks, it was the best option he had to draw them out. If his spear made contact with any part of them, especially their abdomens, then they’d spring up, almost instinctively, but instead of pinning him to the ground, they’d be wrapping their long, spindly legs over his spear, and that would expose them, ripe for the slaying. “I’m such a freaking genius.”

Except, geniuses should have expected that there would be more than enough carachs to deal with, and some of those would be bigger than a mouse. It took Anton a couple of pokes on the ground but he managed to draw one out, a small carach, and immediately pierced it in its stomach. Carachs were venomous creatures, after all, and in this case, it was either them or him. He's been paralyzed by their bite before. Fortunately, he's never experienced the second type of carach venom. Until now.

At first, he thought it was just adrenaline rushing through his veins, the excitement of surviving an otherwise dangerous encounter. But then his heart beat continued to race, and faster it did so. "What the hell?" Taking a step back, he tried to force his eyes closed before opening them in a misguided attempt to "see better". He could feel his pulse now, his very heart breaking, as a vision of his daughter being taken away from him while he was utterly helpless, locked behind bars, trapped in a cage like some animal, haunted him in daylight. Looking around him, he realized his vision was also starting to blur. Panic was setting in. “Fucking spiders.” He uttered, cursing them, before dropping to the ground face-first, clutching his chest, struggling to reach something, someone, but he was alone. “Can’t believe... I’m gonna die... To these smug assholes…”

The two intercepted as she was on her way back to the main building. Barely crawling around on the ground, Eilidh almost missed him. She considered pretending she did. No one else was around. The forest was so, so, so big. And she was so, so, so busy. Who would fault her? But as a large carach made its move towards the easy meal, something inside her pushed her to act.

Skin crashed against exoskeleton, the force from her lunge sending both her and the carach falling into a nearby bush. As she tried to get her composure, she was met with long, sharp legs beating down on her. Enough to break skin, muscle. Enough to pierce through a chest. She punched one of those legs, enough to contort her wrist into a weird angle. She snapped it back into place. In a brief opening, she sent a kick into the hard abdomen hovering above, with enough force to shatter bone if she were human. The carach shivered and leapt back, unnerved by the attack on its vulnerable spot. Eilidh was free.

She rolled from the bush, using the propulsion to end the motion in a kneel. She unsheathed the dagger from her thigh. While she wanted to help the carachs, like hell she was going to let herself be a punching bag. The two watched each other, neither wanting to make the first move. The carach was the first to bow out, choosing to save its energy for easier prey. It disappeared behind the trees. For now.

She inspected the damages. Tears and rips littered her clothes, some even threatening to make her ‘indecent.’ Hidden within those tears were gashes and cuts that had already shown signs of healing. Could’ve been better, but not bad. She turned to the downed man. “See? I have it handled.” Part of her wondered if he could even hear her in his current state.

Even as he writhed on the damp ground of the national park, the feeling of death’s cold, icy grip tight around his panicked heart, Anton could not rein in a playful smirk, his dark brown eyes delighted at the sight of Eilidh, especially the ‘aftermath’ of the battle. 

“O-oh, hey!” He twitched under her feet, jaws and hands clenching as he tried to fight the carach’s venom. “You came looking for m-me? I was definitely wrong: ...you do c-care.” He tried to flash her his most charming smile yet but could only muster a weak one, barely a smile, more a wince or a grimace than anything else. “What are you?”

The “fractoxin” that was coursing through Anton’s veins might be dangerous in large doses, but the exterminator, despite how things appeared at the moment, was still a pest hunter, born and trained to deal with such monsters. As such, his body was a little more resistant to these things compared to that of regular humans, still not as resistant as what Eilidh was apparently, and he healed a bit faster, too. It helped that the predator only injected him with a small dose, enough for the sensation that tricked him into believing he was already at Death’s door when once again Death dared not have him anywhere close. Probably preferred a warm meal to a cold one.

It took his body some time to fully heal, though a sense of disorientation, dizziness, and a modicum of weakness still remained over him. Most hunters, at the realization that a small angry woman just saved them from a hungry carach, especially a pest hunter, would have been much warier at their presence, if not a little more apprehensive. Anton was not like most hunters, however, and he was more excited, if not simply interested, at the unexpected turn of events. 

Dragging himself to a nearby tree for a much-needed rest, gasping for air every now and then as he clutched his arm throughout, he gestured to where the dog-sized carach disappeared into with a smile. “That thing can’t roam free in the park... You know that, right? Unless you find a place for it, for them, more innocent, stupid people will die.” 

Her eyes squinted at the question. What are you? Eilidh could tell he was still fighting off the effects of the toxins. Perhaps he was even in a state of mind to not remember her words. But she refrained from the truth, or any type of answer. She went back to inspecting her clothes, trying to see what could and couldn’t be salvaged.

Hunger crept up inside her. Forming in the gut, then working its way until it resided deep in the mind. Not enough to make her lose control. But enough to be a constant thought in the back of her head. While the attack was brief, and she would walk away with no scars, the exertion still had a price. She stared off into the trees, thinking about what her next meal would be, when Anton’s words brought her back.

She thought about the tarp idea, then gave her body one last look over. The idea might work for all the little ones, but the one she just faced? No. It would tear anything she could find in short notice into confetti. Fuck. She wracked her brain for another idea. But her knowledge on the creature was limited, her experience even less so. So, nothing immediately came to mind. She couldn’t just tuck her tail in and give up, though. Not yet. Think, think! A scene from earlier replayed in her mind. One of her coworkers had described one of the gruesome deaths. A missing heart was one of the details. Hearts. That might work.

“Wait here.” She turned to leave but stopped halfway. While he seemed to be in better shape than before, it was clear Anton was in no shape to defend himself. One more departing thought. “Try not to die.” Into the treeline. She was gone.

Several minutes passed, and when she returned, she seemed in much higher spirits. Her clothes, on the other hand, had a new layer of dirt on them. One hand was red, stained in blood. Cradled in the hand was a heart that had recently lost its beat. “Don’t ask.” She lifted her hand. “They like hearts, yeah?” Without a word of explanation, she headed in the direction of where the carach had disappeared into, eyes intently facing the ground.

“Yes... Carachs eat hearts, and will often lay their eggs in empty chest cavities... Where did you get that?” Anton squinted at the bloody muscle she held when she returned. He had followed her when she disappeared, dark brown eyes on her like a moth to flame but made no effort to move, taking instead the opportunity to rest a while. He was already back on his feet, stretching his limbs and massaging his joints, when Eilidh came back.

“You know, it’s actually quite the theme since one of their two types of venom, fractoxin, gives their victim this feeling of heartbreak, and in large doses, that feeling becomes more of the actual thing.” With his hand rhythmically but softly tapping his chest, he mimics the sound of a heartbeat, once, twice, thrice, slowing down as he goes, before making the final one more of an explosion, a heart exploding, the complete opposite of what happens when the heart stops. “Some people actually farm the tiny ones. For the fractoxin. Sells good money in the…” He cuts himself off, finally realizing that he’s been explaining too much, especially to someone he wasn’t sure yet was of the same community. ...supernatural community.

“Wait!” Anton instinctively followed her when she started to leave, grabbing his spear along the way. He didn’t even get to tell her of their proportions and exoskeleton, how injuring them without a sharp weapon like his would be tough. Those legs, not unlike hers, were pretty damn dangerous, too. Is she also a climber? “We need to strike them in the stomach, where they’re vulnerable! Or toss them into the sea or at least a nearby lake!”

When he caught up with her, his eyes grew wide in horror. Well, more of surprise than actual fear. Anton didn’t fear a lot of things. Or at least he tells himself that every time he goes to sleep. Some glowing rift in time and space, an interdimensional portal of sorts, from which a slime-covered overgrown spider, most likely the same one that tried to eat him earlier, was struggling with its two free legs to pull itself away? Anton didn’t fear that. Definitely not. He gulped. “...or that. That looks like a good place to leave them in.”

Eilidh took note of the information he freely offered. Fractoxin. Nice to put a name to what she assumed the smaller carach had shot into her leg. Seeing an example of the effects, she wasn’t surprised they farmed for it. Just concerned about how it was given… or taken. Concern for another time. The mention of a freshwater body was interesting. She had been under the—misguided it seemed—impression that only salt water affected carachs. Looks like she had some reading to do. 

He seemed to know a lot about carachs. Was it a result of having to adjust to White Crest, or were supernatural creatures his real targets? Either way, she stored the knowledge for future use. But the context it was given brought her eyebrows down, scowl forming. “There’s no we. I’m trying to relocate them. Or did that fractoxin fuck with your head?” She flicked her hand at him, meant to emphasize her point. But the motion caused a few drops of blood to be flung out. An apology wasn’t given.

The sight before her made all sourness inside her crumble away. A giant, glowing gash hovered just a few feet away. It was like the very universe had been wounded. Or perhaps it was more like a mouth. A mouth that was in the middle of a meal. Ensnared in slime, a poor carach tried to free itself from its great maw. Its remaining legs scurried desperately against the ground. Puncture marks littered the soil before it, yet it did not, could not, move forward. Only enough strength to keep it in that same, desperate spot. But that strength was waning, and it started to slip. Slip. Slip. In one last attempt, it stabbed the earth with all limbs, keeping it in that desperate spot. A second passed. Strength failed it once more. It was sucked into the wound. Gone.  

Eilidh blinked. Turning to Anton in the brief calm, she broke it with, “Do you think-” Something shot out at her. It gripped her tight, trapping her in that very same slime. Before she could even attempt to free herself, the world around her became a blur. It exploded into lights as she met the same fate as the carach. By the time she could process what had happened, she found herself tumbling, tumbling, tumbling down a wet tunnel. She grabbed a knife. Made it pierce into her new surroundings. The descent abruptly stopped. But she would not find peace. Just as the knife struck, a loud rumble shook the tunnel, carrying Eilidh along for the ride. It almost caused her to lose grip as moisture perforated everything. But her hands managed to hold firm. While the sound was all encompassing, based on the vibrations on her legs, she could tell it came adjacent to her. She looked up. Light shined down from her. But it came and went. Almost flashing, but not quite. She stared harder. Something disrupted the light on the edges. Something pointed.

Teeth.

“Oooooh, ya think you’re gonna eat me, huh?” Pulling out her other knife, she stabbed it just above where the first was struck. Her world shook again as the great sound pierced into everything. But still, she managed to hold. And so, she started to climb up. 

Anton has had blood splattered all over his face before but not like this. Never like this. Eilidh was not a gentle “first time”, he frowned, heaving a sigh as she continued to be rude at him. If he had the time to think, maybe in a few hours after this hellish encounter should he survive, he would realize that her reactions were perfectly normal. From the way things have developed, she did not seem like she was, well, normal. His late grandfather had told him stories about certain “weirdness” in White Crest, though for his part, Anton has had encounters with sentient creatures other than humans and hunters, creatures that pretended to be normal but weren’t, with some of those encounters even...intimate.

Shaking his head vigorously, he tried to shake those thoughts off, away. Now was not the time to go down “sexy memory lane”, Anton, he cursed himself in his head. Half-expecting Eilidh to lecture him yet again, he was caught surprised when she cut herself off, and in a split-second of panic, he found his hands dropping his spear, instead instinctively trying to grab at the strange woman, trying to pull her back to safety. There were no other thoughts that cluttered his mind. In that moment, he was focused on doing one thing and one thing alone: Not let the angry woman get taken by the interdimensional reproductive organ, as if she were a baby about to get reabsorbed by Mother Space-Time. “Fuck!”

Alas, Anton was ill-equipped to do that one thing. He found his hands slipping, the blood on hers not helping one bit. He managed to stand his ground, however, keep himself from falling back, to the ground on his ass. In one fluid motion, he gritted his teeth, furious at his own failure, before grabbing his spear and chucking himself into the portal. If the Girl was here, she would’ve described it as yeeting. 

Through the tunnel, he flew, though his eyes were closed as he tried his hardest to keep himself from screaming, barely succeeding. When it was all said and done, he landed with a sloppy thud a few steps behind Eilidh, a few seconds after her, like something just spat him out, his flavor a little too much for the universe's palate. “Well, that was a trip.” He quipped as he grabbed his spear tightly, having done the same as her, pierced what he could of the so-called tunnel to keep himself from getting swallowed by wherever, or whatever, he had been spat out into. Eyes adjusting to the blinking light from up above, he found the familiar form he had tried to save but failed, following right after her, using one of the many small knives he always had on his person whenever he was on a job. “I fucking hate this town.”

It took them some time, not helped by the fact that they were going against the grain, or something resembling that in wherever they were, but they managed to find solid respite from all the chaos and confusion. At least what resembled respite in wherever they were. Anton had learned not too long ago to abandon what he knew of mundane physics, which wasn't much to even begin with, when things like this were concerned. The exterminator may be one step above the mundane, but he was not a magic man, a spellcaster, and with the exception of the gifts he had received as a hunter, some he was born with, others he was trained for, he wasn't that far from being mundane himself. “Where the hell are we?”

Right as he asked that, the entirety of the tunnel shook again, as if an entire world was breaking in of itself. Anton turned behind him, his instincts telling him that something was about to happen from that very direction. “Uhh… Macleod? You might want to grab hold of some—” And just like that he was spat out again. Like a fish bone caught in a massive velvet worm’s throat. “I really fucking hate this town.”

While her ascent had started strong, the progress was… lacking. It was hard to climb a mountain when it was covered in slime and tried to buck you off like an angry horse. To make matters worse, the flesh wasn’t always so firm against her weight. Sometimes a puncture accidentally became a slash as it gave and she slid. Eliminating much needed progress. And further accelerating the bucking. Every motion had a consequence. The biggest would be found in letting go. “Fuck!” Again, she stabbed the flesh. “Fuck!” Again, she tensed as everything around shook violently. “Fuck this!” Again, she pulled herself up.

There was commotion from above, something that disturbed the light that was her destination. It rapidly grew until it became a man tumbling toward her, which she narrowly dodged. The whatever-the-hell the two were stuck in gave another shake, this time not caused by her. Once motion ceased, she dared a glance down. Anton looked up at her. Not knowing the noble origins of his arrival, she assumed he got taken off guard, same as her. “Really? I’d love to be in town right now, to be honest. Not this shit.” Especially since she had plans. Oh fuck, right! She had plans! Hopefully she wouldn’t keep Milo waiting too long.

With a small burst of determination, she continued upward. But her arms started to shake under the stress. Moisture punctured through her hands, her clothes, everything. It was suffocating. All encompassing. Like the cave. No, no, no, no, no, no. She needed to get out soon, wherever this was. “We’re on our way to be dinner, is what.” Her previous fire was starting to die. She was trapped. She was trapped again. Again. Trapped. Again. She needed her bliss. She needed her bliss. An unsteady hand searched desperately for it. “Fuck you, cunt!” She barked up at the taunting light.

The use of her name triggered something within her, her lost bite. “Who the hell told you-” She looked down, but Anton did not hold her attention for long. The same mucus that coated the walls of their prison was bubbling below them. Closer. And closer. One second it enveloped Anton. The next, herself. And finally, the two were flung onto solid ground.

Ground! Precious ground! She started kissing it passionately. But something was off. Pulling back, she stared down at the grass. Except, it wasn’t really grass. Deep inside, something told her what lay before lacked life. Lacked a soul. She looked around. Everything was like that. Trees covered the area, but she felt no comfort with them. Clearly distressed, she rapidly flung her head around, searching for something, anything. But her, Anton, and that thing, they were the only creatures to be seen. No buzz of an insect, song of a bird, or rustle of leaves. Just hollow trees.

Small hope was found when that same glowing gash came into view. Except it looked like it had been reflected into a mirror. Reversed, like a door. It must be a gateway! “Look!” She pointed it out to Anton. “Let’s get the fuck out-” The massive creature spewed its inner contents all over the ground again, and Eilidh had the misfortune of being covered in another layer of muck and gunk. It seemed like her torment would be coming to end as the flow slowed when thunk —something came crashing into her head. She fell onto her back with a squelch, the projectile landing right beside her. A key. Something seemingly small and inconsequential, but as she stared, her pupils dilated. Inner voice told her to take it, take it, take it! Following her impulses, she snatched the thing and struggled to get back on her feet.

The moment he felt something gross begin to swallow him up from beneath him, Anton immediately closed his eyes and held his breath. He knew that whatever would follow would be nothing he would enjoy, and he has enjoyed a plethora of questionable things, both morally and legally. He was right, for once in his life, and although it was technically not the worst thing he’s bathed himself in, he was relieved to find himself on solid ground once more, trying his best to get the gunk off of him properly. For fuck’s sake. 

It didn’t take him long to notice that something wasn’t right. Because it never really is. Shaking as much of the disgusting muck off of him, off of his clothes, he squinted as he wiped his eyes off of them as well, only to be greeted by not even a buzzing bee. Wasn’t it bee season? From everything bee-related that has happened to him in the past few weeks, his train of thought would be understandably logical. Yet nothing else was logical about where they were. At least the Girl isn’t here. That must be why it’s so quiet, so peaceful, so bliss— His train of thought was derailed when he laid eyes on the fucking thing that ate them. “What the hell is that thing? Jabba the LSD Hutt? That better not be a bug, I swear to god.”

Anton wouldn’t even have noticed the portal if Eilidh hadn’t screamed at him, his entire attention on their would-have-been predator. At the very least, he saw it coming, the creature puking yet again, allowing him to avoid most of the vomit that unfortunately Eilidh could not. Oh, man, my shoes. He whined in his head when a splatter of gunk from Eilidh flew on his shoes, which were already covered in more muck not too long ago. Then he realized something: His hands were not holding anything. Ah, fuck. His dark brown eyes wandered from them to the giant worm thing. It’s fucking stuck in its throat, isn’t it? That would explain its continual vomiting. That and the many stabbings Eilidh did on its insides.

Turning towards Eilidh when something hit her on her head, Anton finally caught a glimpse of the portal, that interdimensional moo-moo. Fuck it, we’re out of here. Not even hesitating to leave Eilidh behind, the exterminator wrapped his hands around her waist and just freaking hightailed it out of there, using his newfound adrenaline to yeet them both out of the gloomy hellhole like a pair of slippers his mother used to aim at his head whenever he became too annoying to deal with. 

Unfortunately, Anton was never a trained wrestler and both of them were more or less slippery from the giant creature’s vomit, so he struggled to keep his hands and arms around her, exerting more effort than was necessary, his face contorted in pain. “We’re gonna live past forty!” He screamed to keep his mind on something else.

The next thing he knew, he was lying down on his back, his vision a little blurry. He could almost take a nap then and there, his body exhausted. But then he remembered what just happened, the absolute grossness of it all, and did otherwise. Wiping more of the puke from his face, he just laid there, dark brown eyes staring at the sky, wondering if this was all worth anything. “Being alive takes so much effort.” He groaned. Oh, man, my spear.

Before she could fully rise, Eilidh felt hands on her. Instincts taking over, she struggled against their hold: fists struck against his back, legs kicked at his thighs. A scream rumbled in her chest, ready for release. But as Anton headed for the gateway, slipping and sliding along the unsteady ground but onward all the same, she realized what was going on. Oh. Confusion froze her, and amusement at his shitty attempt to navigate against all odds made her unsure how to react. The scream died before it began, and her limbs calmed: acceptance.

Facing opposite their retreat, she was able to fully focus on the creature for the first time. Under different circumstances, she would’ve been fascinated by the size, the beautiful colors, the entrancing eyes. Instead, she just looked at it with mild curiosity, dampened by frustration. It looked, no, glared back. It still quivered and rumbled from the ordeal, but it was quickly gaining composure. And was prepared to dish out some much needed punishment. From a protrusion on its head, the slime from before shot out, meant for them but it missed its mark. Instead, a tree a few meters from them became engulfed. The ooze shifting into a crystal prison was the last sight she saw before entering the gateway. Then everything blurred. And then became blinding.

Despite being able to focus this time, the second go-around was still as disorienting. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of lights. Crashing into the ground snapped them back open. She flopped on the hard surface like a dead fish; the impacts sounding just the same. She came to an ungraceful stop. Eyes quickly inspected her surroundings. A moth flew above nose. Life! The sight made her almost cry. She looked on further, up to the lively trees dancing in the wind, to the beautiful stars twinkling at her. Wait, stars? When did it become night time? Who cares, they were back. “Fuck whatever that was,” she grunted. “And don’t grab me like that again. That was terrible.” Despite her words, there was a hint of a chuckle on her lips.

The two enjoyed the well-earned peace, just laying there.

Which was the perfect position to avoid the slime projectile. It sped pass from above, missing them by a few inches. A bitter whisper hissed out of her, “Chan e seo a-rithist…” She turned her head just in time to see another mass of slime shoot out of the gateway. When that also failed to make contact with either of them, a third rocketed by. “Looks like someone’s pissed.” After the fourth slime also missed its target, the attempts ceased. But she doubted the creature gave up so quickly. She swatted at the closest thing of Anton’s she could, his shoes, in order to get his attention. “Get behind it.” She pointed at the gateway. With no idea how long this standstill would last, there was no time for explanations. Rolling onto her stomach, she quickly crawled, like a competitive baby, until the quieted rift was behind her. Supposedly safe—as long as the gateway only worked one-way—she finally rose to resting on her knees.

The motion jostled the mysterious key in her pocket. She suddenly remembered its presence. Right. That. A chill ran up her spine at the thought of it. With a shake of her head, it passed. For now. 

For a moment or two, Anton felt relieved at the sound of Eilidh’s voice, so relieved in fact that a short-lived chuckle escaped from his lips. Then he made the mistake of running his gunk-ridden hand over his mouth. Fucking hell. At least he still had the wits to NOT accidentally taste the damned thing. Gross. His brain was too distracted by the combined effort of what the fuck just happened and what the hell was still on him to realize the day had abandoned him, throwing him to the mercy of the dark night sky with only a spattering of stars to keep it all appropriately beautiful. 

Catching a glimpse of Eilidh’s hand, Anton turned towards her, wary about getting slapped for all his trouble. Then he found himself immediately surprised when he noticed more of the slime flying through the air. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Monkey see, monkey do, and Anton was on his belly before he knew it, crawling behind the portal. “Your park is super weird, lady.” Although he didn’t remember outright Eilidh’s suspiciously defensiveness towards her name, his subconscious helped him make the better decision to go with something else than his mispronounced rendition of what her parents had given her.  

Once behind enemy lines, or at least the enemy’s line of sight, he helped himself off the ground, though only sitting to catch his breath for a few seconds, a much-needed respite from everything else that had happened. His dark brown eyes wandered over Eilidh, his ears catching the brief jostling in her pocket. For another moment or two, he just stared at her before breaking out in laughter as the portal started slowly collapsing in on itself, as if it was never there, as if it never tried to be their grave. 

“Well,” He groaned as he forced himself back on his feet, battered and bruised. “I guess that’s that. Client only made mention of a single overgrown spider, and from the looks of things, that’s been taken care of.” He offered her a hand to help her back on her feet as well, more out of instinct than anything. As a pest hunter, Anton knew full well how it was better to fight together when there were more than one of him instead of doing otherwise, and both of them on their feet could prevent more surprises. “All’s well that ends well…”

By far, this was ostensibly the weirdest shit that has ever happened to Anton since he moved into town. The insect monsters were a given, considering his family’s history, but an interdimensional portal to god knows where and that freakishly massive monster? Now those would make for a great story. Now, however, he needed a bath and maybe dinner. He wondered if the Girl, the receptionist he inherited from his late grandfather, had already closed the office. She probably did, considering how she never liked to wait for him. Besides, she probably had more homework to worry about. Guess it’s dinner alone again. Beer and something that’s definitely not soup. He’s had enough soupy shit for the day.

Eyes locked. Body motionless. Eilidh’s fingers curled around the remaining dagger. Eyes focused. Body tensing. A predator ready to pounce. The gateway shifted; movement at last. But she was ready this time. Lifting her dagger, she—

The gateway disappeared.

Ah.

Laughter filled the air. In that moment of bewilderment and relief, Eilidh couldn’t help but offer her own. Everything was funnier when you were tired and a touch delirious. But it died in her throat when she remembered who she was laughing with. A cough replaced it. Her hand went to the ground. It played with the soil which had previously been bathed in otherworldly light. Otherwordly. The dirt rested on her fingers, unaware and uncaring of what had played above it. It sprinkled back to the rest of its brethren.

Gateways didn’t just appear. And there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. There must’ve been something that caused it, right? Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; if there were secrets she would have to dig, perhaps literally. Maybe this was a special place, where the separation of this world and not was thin, easy to bend. Or tear. Her back straightened, searching hands retreating back to herself. An apology to the area lay on her tongue. But, wait, shouldn’t the Park know about something like that? Well, there were a lot of shoulds the Park refused to do. In fact, Anton just alluded to one of them. Despite her efforts, the carach died anyway. But a sense of defeat failed to find her. There was a silver lining. Its death provided nutrients for that massive creature on the other side of the door. Maybe they were connected. Like that fallen carach, maybe it used the gateway as its trapdoor. Hidden, until unsuspecting prey stumbled by. Maybe it sealed the gateway when the prey started biting back. Maybe, maybe.

Ignoring the offered hand, she stood, a dull ache pulsing through her limbs, but it was ultimately fatigue that wanted to pull her back down. “Are you gonna mention the giant caterpillar, or just claim all their hard work?” A twinkle of mirth lay in her eyes, but buried in exhaustion. Not really caring for an answer, she shooed him away with a flick of her wrist. “Bye now.” Hopefully he’d actually leave this time, his ‘duty’ fulfilled. She returned to surveying her surroundings. But gravity wanted to return her to the ground. And hunger told her to run, to hunt. She debated if it was worth looking for answers, or to just go back to her place, since she wasn’t in the mood for—Dance Macabre! Fuck! She fished out her phone. Her newly broken phone. Gunk seeped into every crevice, leaving nothing untouched. No matter how many times her thumb smashed on a button, no light came. Milo would just have to have fun without her. She stuffed it back where she found it with a huff.

Camel’s back officially broken, and curiosity no longer able to fuel her, she decided to leave the questions for another day. Let the Park fence off the area for some bullshit reason, and she’ll sneak in with the darkness of night to keep her secret. Either to find answers or wait and see if anything unfolds. But for now, as crickets chirped, and foxes chittered, and the breeze whistled by, reminding her she was alive, surrounded by life. It was time to return to her roots.

Retrieving her bag, she took off. Muscles cried at the strain, but teeth chattered in excitement. The thrill of the hunt. After a distance, her tattered clothes proved too restricting, the coat of slime stiffening, as if it too wished to turn crystal. So, she removed the garments. Naked under the starlight. And kept running. Running. Searching for prey.