The Abyss Stares Back - 04
The carriage rode through the dimly lit city streets of Kirkholm. The horse’s hooves clacked loudly against the cobblestone road, echoing against the gothic buildings that surrounded them.
Sloan peeked out the side window, taking in the view of the imperial city. “You guys don’t have any horseless carriages?”
Watcher Wulfgang Petersen jumped at the sudden query.
“Uh, I believe some of the nobles have them but they aren’t very common.”
“Typical.”
Wulf stared at Sloan with quizzical eyes, his deep blue irises framed against his light rosy skin. “Have you ridden in a horseless carriage?”
Sloan turned her crimson eyes back at him and gave him a devious smile. “Once. I got to drive one to a train station.”
“Who’s was it? The carriage?”
“Some nobleman’s.”
Wulf furrowed his brow, seemingly debating with himself for a moment as to whether or not he should ask a question that was on his mind. Sloan’s dark eyes lit up with joy as she answered the unasked question for him.
“No. He did not lend it to me.”
The watcher, keeper of the law, couldn’t help himself but smile. And then realized what he was doing and wiped the smirk off his face. “You shouldn’t do that.”
Sloan shrugged and returned her gaze out the window. “He got it back, unscratched. Besides, he was the type of noble who runs a major company and still refuses to pay his workers a fair wage. Seemed only right.”
Sloan looked out the window at the tall buildings passing by. New apartment buildings that now littered the district of Brumsfield loomed over head with countless darkened windows staring back at them.
“Who lives there?” asked Sloan.
“Huh?” answered Wulf, not really understanding what was being talked about.
The pale woman pointed to an old mansion that still stood sandwiched between two apartment buildings.
“That’s the Vandermeer estate.” Clarified the watcher.
Sloan furrowed her brow, watching it disappear as the carriage rode past. “Strange. I thought the Vandermeers were imperial nobility. Isn’t one of them in the Lexingrad Court of Speakers? Why is this mansion so…neglected?”
It was a very fair question. The once grandiose mansion had clearly stood as one of the finest estates in the city of Kirkholm, many decades ago. But now its yard was overgrown and its fences rusted. Its deep maroon roof tiles were slowly peeling off and the once opalescent walls were now stained brown and showing signs of mold.
“They are. Or…well, this branch of it once used to be. Word is Edilon Vandermeer made one too many bad business decisions and doomed himself and his branch to financial ruin.”
“And Ludwig and the other Vandermeers didn’t see fit to bail their own family members out of this predicament?”
Wulf sighed. “It seems they have very different family values to the rest of us.”
Sloan turned to grin at Wulf.
“What?” asked the watcher, fearing now that he may have said something untoward.
“You don’t like the nobles do you?”
Wulfgang Petersen haunched his shoulders, feeling as if he shouldn’t speak on such matters. But then again, Sloan wasn’t part of the imperial system. And she clearly did not care for imperial values. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to voice his concerns.
“Not…particularly.” He said, and when Sloan offered no reply he continued. “It just seems that the nobles are constantly lauded as paragons of imperial values and ideology and yet they seem to just horde most of the wealth for themselves. They don’t even care enough for their own blood.”
The grin slowly faded off of Sloan’s face.
“That’s a very astute observation.” She then turned her gaze back to the darkened city outside.
Wulf found himself studying the blackguard’s features, an act she was painfully aware of and dreadfully used to.
“How did you…become like that?” The question escaped his lips without him even realizing he had asked it. And then his green eyes widened and his hands clasped his mouth shut. “Gods! I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. You asked it very genuinely and didn’t call me ‘scum’ or ‘abomination’ in the process.” Sloan turned back to lock eyes with the watcher. “Lets just say I had a…supernatural encounter when I was younger. Had it not been by the grace of a god and the blackguards training me I would have died…or worse.”
“What’s worse than dying?” asked Wulf.
Sloan grinned. “Becoming a monster. To lose your sanity and soul and become a deranged and ravenous monster that preys upon others.”
Wulfgang’s mouth was agape. “What god saved you? Was it Iros? No, Furia. Wait…Sion! God of the Hunt!” The watcher’s face lit up as the realization dawned on him.
“You’re a very intrigued person, Wulf. No wonder you became a watcher. I assume you want to become an inspector at some point, yes?”
The hyperian man’s face reddened as he averted his gaze.
“It’s a fine goal.” She continued.
“It’s a stupid goal.”
“Says who?”
“Anyone who knows me.”
Sloan shrugged with her facial expression. “Well as my liaison you should pay attention to everything I do. You might learn something.”
As the buildings disappeared from view the two of them could spot the imposing structure of the Grimwald Sanatorium poking its troubled head above the nearby treeline. And soon a large metal gate bearing the structure’s name greeted them. They had arrived.
“So…was I right? Was it Sion who saved you?”
Sloan grinned. “It was Dumah.”
Wulf furrowed his brow. “Dumah?”
“The god of blood and flesh. Of the umbral pantheon.”
The watcher thought for a moment before an expression of sheer terror shot across his face.
“That’s one of the Valghastian gods.”
“And beyond. Like I said. Pay attention and you’ll learn much.”
Sloan and Wulf were led down a lengthy corridor by a tall and angular human man wearing a long white coat over a fine tanned suit. The stark white coat seemed freshly dappled with blood stains. The man had deep grooves in his face and wore exceptionally square glasses. His hair was dark but thinning and at this point in his life it struggled to cover his head like it used to.
“What else can you tell us about her, doctor.” Said Sloan. “Other than how placid she has been as a patient.”
Doctor Rutger seemed uncomfortable as he mentally collected the information asked of him. “Ailene Butler was admitted into our care by her family because she claimed she was hearing voices and being haunted by a shadowy figure. This fear grew into an obsession that then saw her developing a compulsion to write in strange runes.”
“Abyssal runes?”
“To my knowledge, most likely.”
“And you don’t find that strange?”
“Miss Butler is an educated woman. Majored in linguistics. The mind has a habit to cling on to what’s familiar when deteriorating. Not everything is a sign of supernatural influence.”
Sloan nodded with a smile.
The door to Ailene Butler’s cell was like any other in the Grimwald Sanatorium. And yet it oozed some terrifying aura. Wulfgang stared at the door before looking at the pale blackguard, wondering if she truly intended on going in there.
“You have ten minutes.” Said Doctor Rutger as he inserted a metal key into the door and unlocked it. “We will be right outside. The door must remain open at all times.”
Sloan nodded. She carefully approached the door, placing her open palm on the handle as if she expected it to burn her. As she opened the door, all they found on the other side was a pitch black darkness. The two hyperian officials of Kirkholm could see nothing within. But Sloan’s crimson eyes could. To her the darkness was illuminated in dull gray colors. Within she found walls scratched and etched with frantic symbols and writing. And standing in the corner she saw a gaunt woman dressed in a patient’s gown. She was facing the wall, tracing her fingers over the symbols.
The pale woman inhaled deeply before she stepped inside. The stench of urine and sweat was almost overwhelming within, but she had smelled worse, recently even.
“Miss Ailene Butler?”
The figure continued to trace its fingers over the symbols, seemingly unsurprised by Sloan’s presences as she hadn’t even reacted to the door being opened.
“Yes.” Ailene muttered.
“My name is Sloan. I’m a blackguard sent by Citadel Karak to look into some strange goings on here in Kirkholm.”
The woman ceased her tactile tracing and slowly craned her neck to look at Sloan. She looked human but her ears were elongated and had the faintest points to them, indicating she had some trace of elderkin blood in her. A child of Lor, though partially. Her eyes shone in the darkness.
“Are you going to kill me?” she whispered.
“Don’t see no reason to.”
She smiled, nodded, and turned back to the symbols on the wall. Sloan looked up at the ceiling and noticed there was no light bulb in the fixture above.
“You don’t like the light?”
Ailene gingerly shook her head.
“Can you tell me about the voices you’ve been hearing?”
She nodded. “The voices whisper terrible things to me. Terrible, terrible things.”
“Like what?”
Her shoulders haunched and her eyebrows arched up. “They…they told me to hurt my niece. Told me to burn her on the stove.”
“But you didn’t?”
She shook her head violently. “I would never. Not to my sweet Carolina. But…”
“But?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“I was afraid I might. They never stopped. They kept hounding me, whispering to me as a I slept, urging me to do horrible things.”
Sloan looked out the open door at Wulfgang who stood a few meters away. He could not see them but he heard their voices.
“One day…” Ailene continued, “I found myself standing in the bathroom with a pair of scissors in my hands. I had…sleepwalked in…I think. I gripped them something fierce. I could feel the hatred within me.”
“And who are these voices?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. Evil voices.”
“When did the voices start?” asked Sloan.
“Oh…a couple of months ago. Mid March I think. At first I thought I was going crazy. I would often think I heard someone speak but when I turned to look I found no one. But soon the whispers started becoming more frequent and more…coherent. And then I’d see the shadows.”
“Can you describe these shadows?”
“Just silhouettes. And I can never see them. Never clearly. They’re always on my periphery. But I knew it was them.”
“Miss Butler, did you study the abyssal tongue when you were in school?”
Once more Ailene ceased tracing the symbols on the wall. She then slowly turned to look at Sloan, she even look her straight in the eyes, despite the darkness. And upon her face she wore a twisted grin, placing one index finger over her smile.
“Don’t tell father. He wouldn’t approve. He always favored the Faithful Flock.”
Sloan furrowed her brow in contemplation. “And how long ago was this?”
“Hmm, a few years ago. Twelve years ago.”
That ruled out the language being the root cause of the haunting.
“And what do you know about demons?”
She shrugged again. “Stories. Fairytales. But there was something out there, a long time ago. Something that left behind it some writing. I saw it, at school.” Suddenly her eyes lit up. “Is it true that blackguards hunt and kill demons?”
“Among other things.”
“Delightful.” She snickered. “Maybe it was demons who lurked in my house. Whispered to me from the dark. Uprooted my drawers and broke the lock on my door. I read once they were…cruel like that.”
“Much crueler than that.” Said Sloan with a hint of disinterest in her voice.
Sloan reached into her pocket and pulled out the keyring. Dangling from it Miss Butler saw several little metallic coin sized discs latched onto it. Sloan handed it to her.
“What do you think of this?”
The troubled woman accepted the ring and inspected the discs. Each one was engraved with a unique symbol. Some she was mildly familiar with. She picked one disc and presented it to Sloan.
“That’s Adora.” She said with a smile. “I remember the chaplain had this symbol on him when my aunt was buried.”
She smiled sadly, Sloan mirrored it.
“Do you like it?”
She nodded. “It reminds me of her. Adora says we should always keep our loved ones in our hearts, that way they may live forever.”
“Wise words” said Sloan, her smile turning sadder.
She reached out with she hand and Miss Butler returned the ring to her.
“Times up.” Said Doctor Rutger.
Sloan sighed. “Thank you for you time, Miss Butler. Try to get some sleep.”
“No sleep. No sleep while they whisper.”
The blackguard exited the cell and the doctor closed and locked it behind her.
“Are you done here now?”he asked.
“Yeah.” Said Sloan, somewhat absentmindedly.
“Well then. If you’ll excuse me I have other patients to attend to.” Said Doctor Rutger before the two medical professionals left them in the darkened hallway.
“So…” asked Wulfgang as they exited the sanatorium. “Did we…learn anything?”
Sloan furrowed her brow as she looked at the keyring in her hand.
“If Ailene Butler was actually possessed by a demon, one of these symbols would have elicited a violent reaction. But none of them did.”
Wulfgang looked at the religious symbols but said nothing.
“She flicked through each and every one but reacted to only one. Adora. And she liked that one.”
“What does that mean?”
“I think Ailene was admitted before whatever was haunting her managed to finish the job. Before it managed to possess her.”
“So what do we do now?”
Sloan inhaled the late night air, deeply. “We get some rest. We’ve done enough research. Go home and meet me at my lodgings around noon tomorrow. I want to go and check out the Butler residence.”
“Why?”
“Because if Ailene started hearing the voices there and the process got halted when she was admitted…then there might be something there that caused it.”
