The Abyss Stares Back - 05
“Good morning, Wulf.” Said Sloan as she sat outside the Gold Dragon Inn, eating her lunch and taking in the brief sunlight the clouds decided to bless them with for the time being.
“You can just call me Watcher Petersen.” Said Wulf as he approached and sat down opposite her.
“Why?”
“It’s more…appropriate.”
Sloan looked at him, regarding his kind features for a moment, before smiling. “Sorry, no can do. Is it common for watchers to carry blades?”
“Pardon?” asked Wulf.
“Blades. Do you watchers typically carry them while on duty?”
Wulf considered the question for a moment.
“I don’t think so. Actually, no we only ever carry batons or revolvers. Or, well, the higher ranking officers carry revolvers. Us patrolmen just carry batons.”
Wulf followed the statement by tapping his hand up against his own baton.
“I see.”
“Why?”
Sloan pondered for a moment. “Nothing really. That lady we met at the watchtower had blade. What was her name, again? Watcher Browlin? It was pretty ornate. Probably an heirloom, I suppose. You know her?”
Wulf squinted his eyes as he attempted to remember the person in question when his train of thought was interrupted by Sloan slamming her mug on the table.
“Anyway, shall we get going?”
“You have kids?”
Wulf’s blue eyes lit up for a moment. “Yeah. Two daughters.”
Sloan smiled. “How old?”
“Two and five.”
“That’s wonderful. At least their father seems to know how to take care of his own. Unlike the nobles.”
Wulf shrugged. “I try, I guess.”
Sloan’s crimson eyes broke off from Wulfgang to look out the window of the carriage. Outside regular folk were going about their business. Mostly humans or other variations of the hyperian bloodlines. Loners and families alike. It was true, it seemed. Looking out upon the people of the city it seemed that the ‘lower class’ folk were much better at taking care of their own. In fact, on their journey they drove past a small family of imperial nobles, and the sight of them made the difference even clearer. Aside of course from the difference in their clothing and their subtle elven features, the wife and daughter of the family seemed to only follow the father and head of their family who strode ahead with a scowl on his face. The daughter especially seemed wistful…and lonely. Too much expected of her…not a whole lot allowed.
The carriage suddenly came to a stop and the two of them stepped out to look upon a recently built apartment building. This was the place.
“What about you? Do you have kids?”
Sloan’s eyes darkened for a moment before she turned to walked over to the back end of the carriage.
“No.”
Wulf sensed he struck some nerve.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s alright.” Said Sloan as she opened up the luggage compartment.
Opening up her arsenal bag the two of them now stared upon a number of weapons, each one designed to carve and rend the flesh of monstrosities. She had large serrated cleavers and silvered blades. She had handcrafted rifle engraved with the holy symbols of Furia and a folded up crossbow built to fire stakes.
Wulfgang’s expression grew worried. “Are we going in there to kill anyone? There’s just normal people that live in that apartment building.”
Sloan turned her fiery red eyes to Wulfgang and for a moment he feared she might attack him. But then a wicked smile graced her scarred visage.
“Of course not. Just wanted to grab my cane.” She said as she pulled a beautiful cane carved out of ivory with a silver handle.
“Do you have…a lame leg?” asked Wulf who had never noticed Sloan limping.
“Just tired.” Said Sloan with a smile. “Shall we?”
Wulfgang nodded before leading the way into the apartment building.
Sloan pushed in the front door to the apartment building and the two were greeted by a poorly lit lobby that acted as sort of atrium for the whole building. A narrow staircase zig-zagged diagonally up to the floors above where a few souls sat and peeked down at them from above. The linoleum floor was blanketed with discarded product packaging and pages from the Daily Scribe. Wulf felt the air was thick and heavy but Sloan could clearly detect the scent of urine around them.
“Lovely place.” Said Wulf as he pinched his nose.
“Mhm.” Said Sloan as she cast a suspicious look across the atrium.
Above she could see a couple of shaded heads peek down at them before slowly retreating back out of view. Above she could see a skylight built into the ceiling but it had been covered with something and now only a faint bit of daylight managed to seep its way in. The electrical light fixtures on the wall had mostly been broken, save for a couple of light bulbs that still cast a warm glow.
“Does this seem uncharacteristically slummy for Lindon?” asked Sloan.
“A little. But many people have fallen upon hard times since the industrial revitalization faltered.” Said Wulf.
He seemed mostly unperturbed and yet his hand rested on the baton that hung from his belt.
“What apartment did Ailene Butler live in?” asked Sloan.
“415.”
“Alright, then lets get up there and see what we can find.”
Sadly the building had no elevator so the two of them were forced to hike the stairs. Each floor was separated from the atrium by a set of doors, most of which were closed. The second floor doors, however, were chained up as if condemned, and yet no notice of imperial decree had been posted on the doors. The third floor doors were not only closed but they were also graffitied heavily. If Sloan didn’t know any better she’d have guessed the building was abandoned and squatted by criminals and the impoverished. As they reached the fourth floor they found no trace of the people who had peeked down upon them, but here the doors, walls and floors were all heavily defaced.
“That’s…alarming.” Said Wulf, now gripping his baton even harder.
“It is.” Said Sloan, looking down the atrium from the stairs. “Did it strike you as progressively decrepit the higher we got?”
“I guess.” Said Wulf before thinking on it bit. “Yeah, actually, it did.”
Sloan furrowed her brow as she considered what she had seen. It was almost as if the force of degradation was slowly making its way down the building for some reason.
“Wulf.”
“Yeah?”
“Keep your baton ready. Just in case.”
The order sent chills down Wulfgang’s spine and he dared not disobey it.
The moment they stepped into the fourth floor corridor they were both gripped with a foreboding feeling. It was a sense of darkness. It choked the vary air they breathed. It smothered the lights that struggled to illuminate the narrow hallway.
“Do you smell that?” asked Wulf as he covered his nose.
“I do.”
Woven into the smell of piss and feces was the unmistakable odor of rotting food. Dark stains littered the flaking wallpaper and ceiling. And the floors had not been cleaned in…gods know how long.
Societal degradation like this would typically be found in entire neighborhoods, not just a single building. Not to mention having it be localized to just a floor? Something was very wrong here.
Sloan led the way with the imperial watcher following close by. They passed by apartment after apartment, each door closed and heavily marked with graffiti and not a sound could be heard from any of them. They stepped gingerly, making as little noise as possible until they reached apartment 415.
The two of them stopped for a moment, placing their ears over the door but hearing nothing from within. The two shared a look and Wulf nodded. Sloan knocked twice on the door.
The sound of her knuckles impacting on the door seemed to echo much too far, shattering the smothered silence that seemed to have enchanted the entire floor. But silence followed in its wake as well. After a few moments they heard the faint sound of footsteps approach the door. Slow and scraping, they soon saw the shadow of feet appear beneath the door and soon the silence continued.
Sloan and Wulf shared a look of suspicious confusion before a muffled voice greeted them from behind the door.
“Who’s there?” asked the hoarse voice of an older woman.
“I’m looking for the Butler residence. Is this it?” asked Sloan.
After a momentary silence the voice answered. “Who’s asking?”
Sloan motioned for Wulf with a smile. The watcher straightened his uniform as if readying himself for an inspection.
“I’m imperial watcher Wulfgang Petersen. We’re here to ask you some questions about your daughter?”
Silence again.
“About Ailene?”
“That’s right.” Said Wulf with a smile.
That lingering silence returned. While they waited for a reply, Sloan thought she heard something. Some brief scraping sound coming from the opposite apartment. But soon the sound of shifting locks drew her attention back to the Butler residence.
The door opened but a chain remained on it, allowing it to only open a few inches. Through the crack they saw the faint outline of a woman standing in a darkened apartment. Her hair was wild and unwashed and the skin on her fingers seemed very wrinkled and cracked. The one eye that peered back at them was hazy from a film of glaucoma that covered it. Her appearance conjured the descriptions found in a thousand folk tales told to imperial children to warn them of hags and witches.
Though, more jarring than her appearance was the foul stench that wafted through the cracked door. So foul that the two of them struggled with keeping their lunch down. From the smell of it the apartment’s plumbing had been broken for quite a few days and while Wulf’s eyes were not keen on seeing in the dark, Sloan’s eyes were. And through the little crack in the door, Sloan could see that all the walls of the apartment were covered in hundreds upon hundreds of pages and that the floor was filthy with…well, she didn’t want to imagine.
“You met with my Ailene?” asked the woman, her voice sounding cracked and almost strained without a door to muffle it.
“We did.” Said Sloan leaning in, hoping to get a better look inside. “We had a little chat and talked about her academy years.”
The woman smiled widely. “She was always such a curious girl. We really should retrieve her soon.”
Sloan furrowed her brow. “You don’t think she needs help anymore?”
“Oh no. She should be here with us. We have so many things to show her.”
The two of them exchanged a look, with Sloan’s eyes communicating a dire warning to Wulf. “Get ready for anything” they seemed to say. Wulfgang gripped his baton even tighter.
“And what would you show her if she came back?” asked Sloan.
“The same that we would show you.”
The statement was met with silence.
Suddenly the door opposite them flung open and a dark figure rushed out screaming at the top of their lungs. Something flashed and suddenly Wulf gasped. Sloan’s instincts had been right and the second she heard the scream she turned and rushed ahead, ramming her body into the figure, pushing them back into the apartment. She watched as a half-elven man stumbled back and fell to the floor before jerking back up into a sitting position. His eyes seemed to glow faintly in the dark and his facial features were drawn into a mockery of genuine expression. And then there was the smell. The smell of blood and rot that now filled her nostrils. She was certain of it now. He was possessed.
“Sloan…” she heard Wulf mutter.
As she turned around she found Wulf standing there with a blade buried into his shoulder, staring at her with utter fear in his eyes. This was no place for a mere watcher. And then she suddenly noticed something else. The door to 415 had been closed and soon the distinct sound of a chain lock sliding out of place graced her ears.
“Back!” she said as she pushed Wulf back the way they came.
The door to 415 flung open and Ailene’s mother jittered out. Her movement was so unnatural and unsettling that it made Wulf recoil in terror. But Sloan was an old hand at this. She raised her silver handled cane and slammed it into the womans face. Then, in one swift motion, she pulled on the silver handle and drew a hidden blade from the cane.
The woman swung a meat cleaver at the blackguard but with a swift dodge and jab Sloan managed to plunge the bladed cane into her throat. The sharp metal punctured through skin, muscle and bone and once it was impaled through the woman’s neck the blackguard spun the blade, nearly taking her head off. Her screams soon drowned out by a gurgle of blood.
Sloan looked back at the other possessed man getting up to his feet in the opposite apartment and knew she had to get the watcher out of there.
“Wulf, you need to…”
And with that, multiple doors opened up with numerous darkened figures emerging from nearby apartments. For one fleeting moment Sloan hoped they were concerned neighbors coming out to aid them. But when she saw their twisted expressions and she knew her worst fears had just been realized.
They were all possessed by demonic entities. She had never seen an infernal infestation this widespread in the middle of city that was completely oblivious to it.
“Wulf.”
“Y-y-yeah?” he replied, his voice quivering.
“Stay close to me.”
“What are you going to do?”
Sloan held the bladed cane in a reverse grip as her crimson eyes scanned the numerous hostiles now populating the hallway with them. “Keeping you alive.”
