Another Hand To Grasp Makes It Easier To Stand,
Two Surely Prove Better Than One,
Yet Harmony Proves Scarce.
Continued From: Morbid Investigations
A Realm Between Hell & Earth.
Afore our traveler, it spread vast. Reminiscent of an ancient catacomb. More befitting a name, however, may have been a city—a city of the dead.
Skull and bone of every kind adorned nearly every area of the massive cavern, as far as the eye could see; human and creatural alike. Architecture, massive; as if built for the inhabitance of ancient giants. No few skulls in particular would reinforce the theory; resembling the human in shape, yet immense in size. Siu herself had never witnessed giants, yet imagining plausible alternatives was difficult.
Waters flooded the lower portion of the city at inequal levels, like aquatic ruins. High enough to soak the waist depending where one stood. A realm, this guest felt, between Hell and Earth.
Thick leather boots ventured their first steps against moist stone, avoiding saturation where possible. Their echo spread far and wide. Bones rattled aside in their wake, remnants of the dead cracking and crushing beneath.
From braziers large to massive, flaming coal illuminated the dark. Yet, an eerie glow of indistinguishable origin also haunted this place.
Whispers, both alien and familiar, caressed her ears. The kunoichi instinctively withdrew her kunai from the pouch. . . . A familiar fog developed.
“Gotta be joking.” Not these things again.
Gradually, the shadowy apparitions formed. Not one, two, nor even five—Siu lost count after the tenth. Afore their complete manifestation, her feet already started through the cavern. Behind, she could hear the ghastly breaths; as if they hungered for her very soul.“Shit—Shit—Shit,”
The Chuunin ducked as a grasp caught up from behind; narrowly above her, she felt its sweeping chill. Feet pressed forward, yet her head suddenly jerked back violently—rearwards she’d abruptly slip, back colliding against stone. From behind, the grip around her raven locks dragged her closer.
Not again, She couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t repeat that terrifying experience. Her heart raced upon the memory. The mind scurried and screamed for solutions. Around, further apparitions neared ominously. With little time to think, and her body dragging towards doom, in desperation, the kunoichi made her decision.
With a swift swipe, raven strands floated to the ground; the handful of lustrous locks still buried in the apparition’s grasp. It screeched, perhaps in anger—yet, their previous possessor had already made well off—neither desirous to know nor care.
Breaths were quick and heavy. Boots raced on; without direction, yet with no intention of stopping.
Gotta be a way out somewhere! Yet this massive grave stretched as far as she could see.
Leaping over a toppled pillar, midair her head swung, checking behind—Yes, indeed they still pursued; tirelessly hellbent at that. Forward ahead, further fog conceived—and shadows. Eyes widened in panic—What to do?!
As all seemed grim...
~Left ... Burial ... Chamber
The fleer’s breath bated. So taken aback, even her escape paused—What was that? A hurried scan was made around, yet no source was to be found—only closing terrors.
~Quick.. ly
This echo, it’d eventually dawn, was not one of this cavern—yet in her mind.
Not’a time to be losing it!
A screeching ensemble tormented her eardrums, terrifying as unbearable, like the wailing of a hundred banshees—Siu shot left.
Covering her ears in agony that only flared her headache, eyes saccaded about, searching desperately.
Seeing no chamber! Waste of time!
A heavy stir; attracting the kunoichi’s attention forthwith. She’d observe the laggard movement of a boulderstone, scraping the ground as it dragged aside, unblocking an entryway and welcoming her presence—for better or worse.
~Inside .... Come
By Raiden, this was shady. Yet, as screams drew louder, Siu understood she hadn’t the luxury of time to reconsider better options.
Her feet restarted: The opening was small—accommodating only an entry at a time, if even that—and, to the Chuunin’s dismay, also seemingly served as the only exit. Meaning, if all went south. . .
Literally my death, This had to be a joke.
Another shadowy reach sought to seize her, propelling the woman to leap through the opening, into pitch blackness. The horde hounded behind, yet just afore crossing into, flames violently shot forth; produced from no source Siu could recognize, barring passage.
Another spell of wails pierced her ears, their echoes haunting her getaway—then the boulder redragged shut, sealing her in the darkness.
Siu might’ve rejoiced, perhaps even celebrated—if she hadn’t been rapidly plummeting backwards, coughing the thick dust kicking up and choking her lungs; journeying down what felt like some stonework slide. Deeper and deeper—like refuse tossed down a garbage chute. The Chuunin felt it might never end—until, her body abruptly crashed into a dense pile; the hollow rattle of which told tale of bones.
* * *
Adrenaline still rushing, panting heavily, the kunoichi immediately scanned around upon rushing to a stand . . . Pitch black. A single torch would suddenly alight the chamber. The kunoichi’s guard rose, her body shifting into a defensive stance. Yet, as typical of this place—nothing was to be seen. At least, not yet.
“At last, another hapless soul arrives.” Further torches alit, unveiling the army of bones piled and strewn across the ground—and, a figure. “How so very long I’ve waited.” A male of tall stature, thoroughly mantled. The hood of his poncho cast a shadow, concealing his eyes. Its color best described deep, dark grey, nigh black; touched by the faintest trace of green.
The tall kilt cloaked his lower limbs. A thick garment underneath layered his gullet; reminiscent of a thick turtleneck. Each article shared the poncho’s color.
“Had enough of the horror circus,” The kunoichi warned with clear hostility, “Don’t screw with me!”
“Fear not, m’lass,” Returned a contrary cool. An innate sarcasm flavored his tone, even upon earnesty. “I wish no ill upon you. In fact, the very opposite.”
“The voice in my head . . . Was it you?”
“Aye, and the one having rescued you from sure death, I might add.”
Following this insight, the kunoichi’s guard lightened; ever so slightly. Her features, however, still denoted wariness.
“And... What you want? Somehow doubt that came outta goodwill alone.”
A curl produced from the figure’s lips, hinting amusement, confirmation; or both. Arms spread from out the poncho, as a presenter might afore revealing a new performance behind curtains, revealing symbols of runic nature: Tattoos diverse from those of the Storyteller; and far less widespread. For they actually adorned, rather than engulfed. His visage also appeared clean of such markings.
Siu noticed what may have been the thinnest bracelet of gold her eyes ever rested upon, along with matching rings. Neither appeared much thicker than a few combined strands of hair. Illuminated by flames, they produced the faintest glimmer.
“Take a look around you.”
Siu took a look around her.
“Does this strike you as the dream home you’d fantasize dwelling near a hundred years in?”
Attention returned to the figure, features perceptibly surprised. “Did you say—one hundred years?” The skin revealed hadn’t exhibited hints of wrinkling. In fact, Siu would’ve said he’d even appeared more youthful than herself: “You another demon like that Storyteller bastard?”
A hearty laugh emitted.
“So, that would be your Caretaker, eh? Rest assured—I’m nowhere near as eccentric as that fellow.”
“Caretaker..? “He’s no caretaker of mine!” Evident irritation resonated from the association.
“Say what you will,” The male continued, “Yet, you became his responsibility. And surely, he worked you right. You’re saturated in it. It reeks from your very pores.”
“I... of what?” Siu’s attention lowered to double check, then triple check her person, as if studying an alien object. “What’re you on about?”
“The aura. The stench. You and I are one of the same—cursed beings.”
Silence, as the Chuunin worked to decipher the statement. . .
“Didn’t understand it, but since wakin’ up,” Unconsciously, the woman gave another glance at the bruises around her wrists, “As if, this body is . . .”
“Yours, but not yours,” The male completed. Siu looked back up. “Burns, doesn’t it?”
“What is it?”
“The Ritual. Your survival of which, has qualified you for the first of the Trials.”
“The Trials. . .” Siu briefly allowed the words to stew in her memory. “Storyteller mentioned somethin’ like that. Didn’t sign up for any of it—just want outta here.”
“Wonderful! Then we share the same desire. Have you your gift?”
“My gif—” The woman paused mid inquiry, suddenly recollecting; then proceeded to rummage about her person. The haphazardly tucked item eventually withdrew.
“Heck is this thing anyways? Even has my name on it. And some note about some... Jashin.”
“The Wicked Heart; the very same one now preserving your body.”
“What’s that mean?”
The question appeared to give pause. A pause, not necessarily in the sense wherein information was intended to be withheld, yet rather, in regard to how an answer might best be expressed. The delay left Siu trapped in suspense. As was, he’d currently stood her best hope for answering the measureless questions accumulating since arrival.
“In a word,” He’d finally begin, “You’ve been cursed—or blessed, as others might say—by a god. One of old. Whether benevolent or wicked; well, that is of your judgment. But, if you’re as impatient to leave here as I, then my proposal is we make haste. Such inquiries can be more deeply addressed when—should we escape.”
The kunoichi’s gaze drifted aside, whilst allowing herself to digest the information: Cursed gods of old. All that torture, those rituals—there wasn’t a thing benevolent about it. Even the vaguest recollection upset her psyche. A force even reaching physically; producing wormlike discomforts in her stomach and chills up her spine. Phantom pains stirred where no longer wounded. Though she’d made the greatest effort to prevent otherwise, the gruesome experience had, inevitably, left its mark deep against her psyche.
So this was trauma.
Shoving it all aside, redirecting focus to the present, regard returned to the male afront: “So, what’s the first step?”
“The bastards lording those spectres must be properly disposed, to start. Rest assured, they are flesh and blood—well capable of being wounded. Far less complicated than those wretched existences out there.”
“So—they’re not just some storybook ghosts? But being controlled?”
“They’re what happens when misfortunate bastards like me stay in places like this for far too long—And also, what you’d have become, had you failed to flee here.”
“You mean, if I’d died there. I would’ve become like. . . one of . . .”
A finger snap affirmed: “Right you are, m’lass!”
The very idea roused terror.
“. . . Thank you.” Though low, the words were genuine.
“Escort me out this hell, and we’ll deem it favor for favor.”
“Deal.”
A single index pointed from his garments. “The gift,” He’d remention, “Words alone hold little glue for binding. Major agreements should be properly established—wouldn’t you agree?”
“What are you implying?” The woman inquired with an arched brow.
Oh, how regrettably little she’d known at that time.
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