Theodore Atherby

Calm Before 20-05 (Heretical Edge 2)

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A/N – The non-canon for this story was posted over the weekend and is able to be read by everyone right here

“Answer her,” Avalon was already pressing, her gaze intent as she stared that way. “Why were you looking for Hajer? And why in an old hotel that was taken over by a gang of Alters?” 

“To answer your questions in reverse order,” Manakel’s ghost informed us, “Hajer moves around quite a lot. Hence her title. I had it on quite good authority that she was there most recently at that time. Why she went to that place, I could not possibly say, only that she was at one point. Unfortunately… for me at the time, she was gone by the time I arrived. Which, as you have already learned, was not something I enjoyed learning.” He paused, giving a slight sigh before pushing on. “As to the first part, I wished to employ her services in removing the protections from Miss Sinclaire here.” His eyes moved to Avalon, who was still staring intently right back at him. “It was a long shot that she would agree to such a thing, but then, we were trying a lot of long shots at the time. And she has been surprising before in what she has agreed to.” 

Squinting, Valley slowly asked, “She’s the ancient human who was bonded to one of those Primals, right? The… whatever they were who created the weapons the King of Canada uses.” 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Your people would have called her a caveman. Or cavewoman. Bit offensive, but not incorrect. She was born in a time when the majority of your people did live in caves, when most of the Alters who would eventually come to call this planet home had not yet arrived. And those who had were… genuinely more threats than allies. In the early days, there were large portions of this planet which were ruled by incredibly dangerous creatures. Among those ancient inhabitants were very, very few of the beings you call Primals. Their own species was already doomed despite their vast power, and you might say a couple of those who were left… retired here. They stowed large armories of their advanced weaponry, such as what Oberon found.”

“Um, why were they doomed?” I found myself asking uncertainly. “I mean, as a species. What happened to them?” Was it weird that I was asking questions of the guy who had spent so long trying to murder my girlfriend and destroy my entire life, as though he was just another teacher? And did the fact that Avalon was right here with me, also asking him questions, make that whole situation better or worse? I wasn’t sure, but it was definitely a thing. 

“We don’t precisely know, to be honest,” was Manakel’s somewhat disappointing response. “Well, there are theories based on information we do have. I can tell you the one I subscribe to, which is that the beings we know as the Primals performed a spell that was so… dangerous and consuming, it destroyed their ability to procreate. And it did so to such an extent that even cloning would not help, because this spell they created and triggered worked by draining the life force from any iterations of their species who were not alive at the moment it was triggered.” 

I absorbed that for a moment before my eyes widened. “Wait, you mean they effectively destroyed their own ability to continue their species because they made a spell that killed any members of that species who weren’t there at the time? So they could never make any more, and the ones who died just… never got replenished?” 

“That seems like a very bad plan,” Persephone put in, gently rubbing one of Cerberus’s heads. “I don’t know what sort of goal they could have had for that.” 

“What she said,” Avalon noted dryly. She was still watching the man with obvious suspicion despite her curiosity. “What the hell were they trying to do? Are you sure they did it to themselves? That sounds an awful lot like something someone else would have done to them.” 

Mankel’s head bobbed slightly to acknowledge the point. “Yes, well, as I said, we know very little about them for certain. For the most part, they came from a time long before even my people. Certainly before we were an intergalactic civilization. We’re forced to piece things together from old records and stories. But we do know that, within the few records we have found and translated, the Primals repeatedly referred to their situation as something they had done to themselves. They blamed no outsiders, no invading enemy or force. Whatever happened, they were the source of it.” 

“So they couldn’t have any kids or create any clones, or do anything that would carry on their species,” I murmured. “And apparently this spell or whatever it was couldn’t be stopped. They were stuck with just whichever of them happened to be alive when the spell was cast, and once they died, that was it.” The idea made me shudder. What would it be like to live as a people as advanced as these Primals had been (if the weapons Oberon had found were any indication) and then become completely helpless to prevent your entire species from just dying out? 

“A few ‘retired’ to this planet, and this Wandering Woman, or Freyja, or Hajer… whatever she calls herself, she came across one of them way back in the primitive days.” Avalon frowned a bit. “If they lived so long ago that even your people didn’t know anything about them, they must live for a long time for any to have survived long enough for a primitive human to meet them.” 

The man gave a slight nod once more. “Yes, they were incredibly advanced in many ways, to the point of becoming nearly entirely immortal, in some cases. And yet, still, once one died for any particular reason, they were gone forever and the species was one step closer to complete extinction. And even they could only prolong their lives, or protect themselves from outside threats, for so long. Or perhaps some simply… chose to die, after so much of their species was wiped away with no chance to return to their former glory. They could have given up.” 

He was silent for a moment after that, clearly considering how it would feel, before visibly swallowing. Then he went on. “Hajer met one and was bonded to them. Perhaps it was an intentional way for that particular Primal to feel as though they were passing something of themselves on. Whatever the reasoning, she is quite possibly the most powerful being on this planet.” 

“She has the ability to undo things,” I remembered. “Mom said if she focuses on something or someone, she can undo the effect of anything. If you burn a house down, she can wave a hand and put it back to the way it was before the fire. Even if that means bringing everyone who was killed in the fire back to life. But like, she can even undo learning. She can make you forget things, or even erase skills out of your head by removing the fact that you ever learned them.” 

“All of which is correct.” After saying that, Manakel paused, glancing away as though losing himself in thought for a moment before shaking it off as he turned back to us. “As I said, my goal was to find her and convince her that it would be in the best interest of this world for me to succeed in my mission.” His gaze focused on Avalon as he flatly finished with, “My mission, of course, to kill you. Again, for however little it is worth, you have my apologies. Yet I did, absolutely and without question, believe what I was saying at the time. I believed that killing you, eliminating any possibility of Liesje’s spell from ever being put into the world, would maintain the peace here. Because if my people found out that spell was active, I believed they would come here in force.” 

“Yeah, they still might try that,” I muttered under my breath. “But I guess you didn’t find her.” 

“No, I did not. So I returned to other plans.” He looked to Avalon once more. “Plans which failed.” 

“Yeah, we’re all glad about that, believe me,” I noted. “But anyway, to get back to the whole reason I brought that up in the first place, you said you could help me learn to undo that… ‘severscatter’ spell that you used on Grover’s friend so we can bring her back?” 

“As I also said, it will take some time for you to learn enough to do so,” the man reminded me. “But yes, I believe it can be done. Once you have learned how, you will have to go to the spot where it occurred. And you will need to know as much about the girl as possible. That, you will need this… Grover’s aid with. But assuming all goes well enough, you should be able to, ahem, bring her back.” 

My phone buzzed at that point, so I glanced down at it before replying, “Well, I’ll definitely be coming to you for lessons soon. But in the meantime, it sounds like the others are starting to wake up.

“And I really need to get back there in time for my grandparents to meet Theodore.” 

******

Of course, Manakel had no idea what I meant by ‘Theodore,’ and I wasn’t yet to the point where I felt like explaining it. So Avalon and I left him there with Persephone and Cerberus. They had a lot to talk about, and I was pretty sure most of it was pretty private stuff. Still, I made sure Percy knew she could call for us any time she wanted, and that she absolutely did not have to do anything Manakel told her to. And I told Andromeda she should listen in and make sure nothing untoward happened. Even if he was being… well, nice now, I wasn’t going to take any chances. Having a secretly-still-evil Manakel manipulating Persephone into something bad wasn’t quite the worst situation I could think of, but it wasn’t good either. 

Either way, right now wasn’t the time to think about all that. Now was the time to focus on Grandmaria and Popser, who were standing in the kitchen alongside Dad, Mom, and me. And Loudpound, who was wolfing down a very large stack of pancakes at the table. Or rather, pancake and egg sandwiches. She took two pancakes at a time, shoved several spoonfuls of scrambled eggs between them, then ate the result like a sandwich. While sometimes dipping it in syrup. I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to try it like that, but she sure enjoyed it. 

“Uurph, I gotta tell ya, Grandma Chambers, you make some fine flapjacks,” she announced after devouring another of her concoctions. “I mean, I never actually had real ones before, just what I’ve got from borrowed memories, or how they taste inside. But if I had to have anything as my first outside meal, I’m glad it was this.” She took another huge bite then, with a murmur of pleasure, then gulped down half a glass of milk. 

Staring at the greenish-brown, taller Denny in wonder (for more than one reason, I was sure), Grandmaria finally found her voice. “Oh, well, if you think those little things are good, you should try my cookies sometime.” 

Pointing with her latest pancake and egg sandwich clutched in one hand, Loudpound declared, “I’ll hold you to that! Err–what?” She looked to the side as though listening to someone else before muttering under her breath, then turned back. “I mean, thanks. You know, for that and all this food. It’s all ahh, it’s all good.” 

Grandmaria paused before smiling. “Well, I’m just glad you’ve all been enjoying it. Or… is that just you? I’m afraid I’m not quite certain how that works with your… ahh, situation.” 

Taking another gulp of milk to finish off the glass, Loudpound shrugged. “I’m not really the explaining things type, unless you’re talking about explaining just how much it hurts to have my fist in your face. Then I’m more of what you might call an interactive teacher.” She offered a toothy grin that showed off her fangs. Then there was another pause as she listened, before shrugging. “Yeah, well, you do it.” 

With that, her body shrank down half a foot, back to the original Denny’s height. Her skin shifted away from the brownish-green and became a bright fuchsia, while her clothes were a mint and black mix. She even had a matching cape. Her eyes were yellow with no whites to them, and she had short and spiky white hair. 

“Hi!” the new arrival chirped. “I’m Tailor! Letters was gonna come out and talk, but she’s busy right now. I wanted to say I really liked the pancakes too! I probably wouldn’t have put them together with the eggs like that, but it was a new experience. I think new experiences are good! Err, most of the time. Okay, okay, maybe there’s a lot of bad new experiences, but this one was just weird, and weird isn’t bad! I like experiencing things.” 

She looked to my grandmother then. “We can taste what the person on the outside eats, but it’s like… one step removed? It’s not quite like having someone describe something to you, but it’s not exactly the same as experiencing it yourself either. It’s like, uhhhhh… you know when you eat something and then a couple seconds later you can still remember what it tastes like really well? It’s sorta like that.” She thought about her own explanation for a second, then gave a firm nod. “Basically.” 

“Well,” Popser started, “it’s certainly a delight to meet you, Tailor. I hope we didn’t annoy your… sister? I hope we didn’t annoy her too much with all our questions.” 

“Psshh, nah, she’s okay.” Tailor waved that off. “Like she said, she just doesn’t like to explain things. Or listen to things being explained. She gets bored pretty quick.” Her head tilted to look up toward the corner of the ceiling. “What? You do. I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” Looking back to my grandparents, she added, “Anyway, we decided we don’t really like the term sister or brother, because… well, some of us are more connected than others. Letters was reading stuff online earlier when she was out, and she thinks those should be called syslings. Like system siblings. That’s what we are, a System, basically. We didn’t start out the same way they do, but… I mean, it’s close enough. Anyway, we’re the Carnival System. Some of us are syslings, some of us aren’t. Mostly we’re what you call Aspects, or maybe headmates.That’s another word Letters found. Individually, we’re Aspects. When you’re talking about what we are to each other, it’s Headmates. Loudpound and Bijou are syslings because they’re really close, even though they’re pretty different. But just go with headmates for all of us as a whole.”  

Dad, who had been standing in the back corner of the room next to Mom as they watched all this, spoke up. “I had an interview with someone like that awhile back. We were trying to find out what they knew, but the one we needed to talk to was, ahh… gone. I think they said he ‘walked out.’ I ended up talking to their–what did he call himself? Archeologist, that was it. He called himself the System Archeologist. He had this mental museum of all of the pieces of memory the other parts of them left lying around. Ended up being pretty helpful. And ahh, educating.” 

We all talked a little bit more about that, before Grandmaria promised to make cookies soon, and said she would invite any of the Carnival System out to help. Then she and Popser decided they were ready to go in and see Theodore. Apparently the System had already figured out that he couldn’t manifest outside. He wasn’t exactly the same as them. They were all pieces of Denny, at least partially, so they could take over and control the body. But he was more of a separate entity inside her memories, and apparently that wasn’t enough for him to take over. Though, to be honest, I wasn’t sure he even wanted to. He was pretty nervous about interacting with anyone in there, let alone taking over the body in the ‘outside world.’ 

In any case, Tailor swapped with Walker, who grunted her own greetings before waving for us to step together. So, Mom, my grandparents, and I all moved closer. The four of us were going in. Apparently it wasn’t easy for Denny to support too many people inside herself at the same time, and we didn’t want to push things any further than that. 

We arrived in the carnival itself, and my grandparents looked around in wonder. Grandpartie went on a bit about how amazing it would be if they could make a virtual reality video game look this good, while a few of the Aspects cautiously watched from various game booths and rides. They weren’t approaching. 

Then a voice spoke up cautiously from nearby. “I… hello.” It was Theodore, of course. He tentatively stepped out from behind one of the booths, looking nervous. He had dressed up in a cute little black suit with a blue bowtie and matching boots. 

Turning that way, Popser was the first to react. “Aha!” he crowed, making Theodore jump a little. “There’s my grandson!” With a grin, he stepped that way, then paused before lowering himself to one knee. Even then, he still towered over the small boy. “I like your tie. That’s not a clip-on.” 

“No, sir,” Theodore confirmed. “Bang-bang helped me tie it.” 

“Well, he did a bang-up job.” Giving a laugh at his own joke, Popser added, “And it sounds like he’s a good friend. You can call me Popser, or Grandpartie, just like the others.” He offered his hand. “You like Theodore or Theo?” 

After a very brief pause, the boy accepted the shake, his own hand vanishing into our grandfathers’ much bigger one. “I think I usually prefer Theodore, but… Theo sounds okay coming from you, uh, sir.” 

“Theo it is, then,” Popser agreed before waving a hand. “Maria, come meet our grandson.” 

Soon, the three of them were talking animatedly. Well, our grandparents were doing most of the talking. Theodore stayed pretty quiet and just watched. But his eyes were certainly animated, as he stared at them and alternately nodded or shook his head while they asked questions. 

Stepping next to my mother as that went on, I quietly murmured, “I’m pretty sure this is good for all of them.” 

Her head gave a short nod, eyes remaining centered on Theodore while shining with half-shed tears. “Yes. It’s good for them, and for us. And I think it’s good for Denny and the rest of the Carnival as well.” Saying that, she smiled even more at the sight of Popser rising while picking Theodore off the ground so he could hold him up as high as possible, making the boy give a reflexive laugh. Her voice became so quiet, I could barely hear her next words.  

“It’s just plain… good.” 

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Four Deaths Four Killers 19-09 (Heretical Edge 2)

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Okay, yeah, that was obviously a lot to get dumped on us on top of everything else that we were dealing with at that moment. I felt myself physically reel backwards, before looking quickly to the four Aspects who had accompanied us into this place. “Guys? What’s he talking about?” Even as I asked that, my gaze was snapping right back to where Amm–Theodore(?) was still standing. Part of me wouldn’t–couldn’t believe that this wasn’t some sort of trick. Ammon was right there, he was inside Denny’s mind. Of course he was, of course. She had his memories. Having the boy’s mind as well, his personality locked in this–but he said he wasn’t actually–what? 

Letters spoke for the others, staring that way as well with an unblinking gaze. “I promise, we didn’t know anything about this. We thought it was just Ammon’s bad memories that were locked up in this place. That’s what it’s for.” 

A–Theodore spoke again, his eyes glancing away while he seemed to shrink in on himself a little. “That’s the whole reason I’m here. I am one of his bad memories. The worst memory. I’m what he used to be before our father changed us. I’m what he was, or maybe what he could’ve been. And the piece of him that our father locked away, so he could create… him. But part of him still remembered who he was. He hated me, hated those memories. Or maybe he loved me. I… I’m not sure. Maybe it was both. But I am his worst memory, that’s why I’m locked up here.” His voice was soft, resigned. 

This was so much to take in. Just staring at the boy like that, I had to force myself to unclench my fist. My nails had left marks on the palm of my hand. And I couldn’t take my eyes off him. God, what–what was I supposed to do with this? What was I supposed to do with him? Was he really the–for lack of a better term, ‘good’ part of Ammon? Was he Ammon’s good personality that had been suppressed and locked away by Fossor? Or was this some sort of trick? When it came to Ammon, I felt incredibly paranoid about any evil ‘games’ he might have been playing. I really could not have put it past him to try something like this, just to fuck with us. Or rather, just to fuck with me. 

While I was thinking about that, the boy spoke up once more. “There’s something I know. Something I remember from when he died–when we died. I can’t say it out loud because it’s dangerous, and I don’t know how… how it’ll react in here. Maybe it won’t do anything because we’re all in her head. But you know why I can’t say it.” 

Oh. Oh yeah, I did know what he was talking about. He remembered the fact that Professor Dare hadn’t been affected by his power, and what that had to mean. He was the one who had ended up with that memory. Was he trying to give me some proof that he wasn’t evil, that he really was what he claimed to be? Would the real Ammon, the one I knew, have thought things through like that? Or would he just have blurted it out for fun to see what happened? I wasn’t sure. I just–I didn’t know. There was no way to know. Not right now, not like this. So what could–

“Flick.” That was Marina, speaking firmly as she tore her gaze off the boy to focus on me. “This isn’t the time to work all this out. We have to find Denny.” 

Of course, she was right. Dealing with the whole Theodore situation was going to have to wait. Whatever else was going on, we had to get Denny the hell out of this haunted mansion. The other stuff could wait until we had her out in the main– wait. “Is she even in here? Is she here, or did everyone just see–um, him in the windows? How good of a look did they get?” 

Before the others could answer that, Theodore spoke again. “She’s here. In this place, I mean. I–I can help you find her.” The offer came a bit hesitantly. But it didn’t sound like he was reluctant. It was more like he was afraid we would throw the offer back in his face. “If… if you want, I think I know where she went.” 

Right, this could still be a trap, of course. But something told me it wasn’t. Maybe I was just being stupidly naïve. Either way, we had to do something, and wandering around this enormous place completely blind was taking too long.

While all that was working its way through my mind, Walker spoke up. “Look, if he wants to help, let him help. If it’s a trick or whatever, we’ll deal with it. We don’t have time to stand around debating this whole thing all day. She’s in trouble. So can we get a move on or what?” 

Pushing all those other thoughts out of my mind, I nodded. “She’s right, we need to find Denny. So if you know where she might be… Theodore, lead the way. We’ll be right behind you.” And yes, I had more than one reason for deliberately pointing out that we would be following him. It might’ve made some level of sense to give him some benefit of the doubt in the moment, but I wasn’t going to be stupid about it. We still couldn’t be completely sure what his deal was. 

Theodore, visibly and audibly swallowing, stepped out of the doorway he had been standing in, and slowly began to walk past the six of us. His voice was a soft murmur. “This way. I think she’s downstairs. Very, very far downstairs.”

So, we followed him. Things got worse rather than better as we kept going.  The images were even more horrific and consistent, often shoving themselves right in our faces so we couldn’t ignore them. And it wasn’t just images, but sound as well. We heard the screams, the sick sound of bones breaking, even the horrifyingly slick sound of blades carving through flesh. We saw it, heard it, and smelled it. Even though they were ‘just’ holographic images in front of us, or played along the walls and windows, we could actually smell the blood and rotting flesh. It made my stomach churn and my heart ache. 

But then I realized the truth. The images weren’t worse just because we were getting closer to Denny. They were worse because of who we were with. What we had been seeing and experiencing before were just shadows of what these were. The main point of all this was to torture Theodore. The holograms were so much more realistic now because we were with him. He was the target, the one the images, the sounds, the smells were focused on. Even if everything he’d said was true, and he was really the ‘good’ part of Ammon, he was still being tormented by the memories of everything the other side of him had done. If this was true, then he was a little boy who was being viciously tortured by memories of things he’d had no control over.

Fuck, fuck. This whole place, all of it was just–it was wrong. We had to get the hell out of this mansion, as fast as possible. But first, we had to find Denny.

And find her, we did. Though it required following Theodore all the way down into the lower subbasement of the mansion. We tracked down heavy wooden stairs into what amounted to a dirt pit with cement walls, and found the girl in question huddled in a corner with her knees drawn to her chest. There was a line around her, a half circle from one corner wall to the other, with Denny curled up behind it. The line glowed a bit with what seemed like magical power, and I could see the ghost images that we had been subjected to all around her. They didn’t cross the line. Apparently they couldn’t. I wasn’t sure how that worked or how Denny had figured it out. Maybe it was just because this was her mind and she controlled it, to some extent anyway. 

Theodore, who stepped back out of the way and half-disappeared into the thick shadows, spoke in that soft, tentative voice. “They’re here for me, but she’s close enough for them.” 

“Flak?” I immediately announced while glancing that way. 

She, in turn, nodded and sent a burst of fire that actually dissolved the various ghost images. With the way clear, all of us ran to Denny. Marina was first, though she stopped short of the line. Somehow, it felt wrong to cross it. Even if it didn’t affect us, the girl had put it up as a bit of protection. Instead, Marina took a knee in front of her. “Denny, Denny, it’s us. It’s Marina. It’s okay, you’re okay. I…” She hesitated with her hand partway outstretched, still not crossing the line the girl had drawn. “Denny, are you alright?” 

For her part, the younger girl drew her knees to her chest and shook her head rapidly. “Have to go away. Have to be gone. Can’t be outside. Can’t be there. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t let him out.”

The line slowly dissolved, disappearing as she dropped her gaze with obvious shame, unwilling to look at us. Immediately, Marina reached out to pull the girl up, dropping beside her so she could wrap both arms around Denny. “No, no. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s alright. You saved Dakota. You saved her, Denny.” 

Nodding, I put myself on the other side of the girl, taking her hand with mine. “She’s right, Denny. We know what happened. You stopped Perrsnile. You stopped him. We know all of that. We know he was the bad guy. You saved Dakota. It’s okay. No one blames you for that. He was a monster and you stopped him.” 

“I killed him.” That was her soft, pained reply. “I know I had to. I know. But…” Her eyes closed, and I saw a tear slide its way down her cheek as she admitted in a hoarse, horrified voice. “I liked it. I enjoyed it. I wanted to see him die more. He was afraid, and I… I watched him die and I…” more tears came, her eyes squeezing even more tightly shut. “I loved it. I loved seeing how scared he was. It was Ammon. It was that part of him. I wanted to kill again.” 

“I’m sorry.” That was Theodore. The boy had come forward, and slowly sat down a few feet away from us, still on the edge of the line. 

Denny, looking up, gasped a little and reflexively recoiled while blurting a half-panicked, “Get away fro–wait.” She stopped then. “You… you’re not him. You look like him, but you’re not. I can tell you’re not.” 

There was a brief pause before Theodore wrapped both arms around his stomach and hunched in on himself protectively. I could see the shudder that ran through his small form. “I think… I think when you get down to it, I’m his… his guilt. I’m the part of him that was locked away, the part that felt bad about… about all of it. The part he was trying to find.” His eyes had been closed, but they opened as he looked up to stare at the girl, and I could see the tears there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for… for what we did to you. But you’re not this.” His gaze turned to look at the nearest of the horrific images playing out nearby. “You didn’t do that. You didn’t do any of it. Please, stop torturing yourself with it. You didn’t do that stuff. You aren’t that person.” 

“Neither are you.” That was Marina, suddenly speaking firmly. “Neither of you are the person responsible for any of those things. You aren’t him. So you don’t need to be locked up in here either. Nobody does. This place should be burned to the ground. But… failing that, no one should be inside.” 

Swallowing as a myriad of thoughts ran through me, I glanced up. “Walker,” I murmured, “we need to get out of here. All of us.” 

The gray-skinned girl gave a little nod, then made a sharp gesture with her hand. Shadows enveloped us that time, until we were all back outside the mansion, in the middle of the carnival grounds. The six of us, along with Denny and Theodore.

“You knew the other versions of you were here, didn’t you?” Marina quietly noted, still squeezing Denny closer to herself. “You made this carnival for them.” 

“I had a dream about going to the carnival,” came the hoarse whisper, “just before the other dreams, before I found out about Ammon and all of that. It was a really good dream. It was so… realistic. I dreamed that I was… older, just a couple years. I was at the carnival for a school trip, with my friends. There were four of us and… and they were my best friends in the world. We spent all day at the carnival and it was my favorite day ever. We won these big teddy bear things and they had these little top hats. We had those Dippin Dots ice cream and it was–we were sharing the–” She cut herself off, taking a deep, shuddering breath. 

“I thought it was so weird, having a dream that was that real. It was like a memory, but it couldn’t be, because I was older in the dream. Now… now I guess we know why. But whatever the… the reason, it was so vivid. Then when… when I felt everyone in my head, I wanted… them to be somewhere nice. They deserve to be somewhere nice. Even if I had to lock myself up. Then I remembered the carnival, so I… I made it.” 

I still had no idea how she had managed something like this, or exactly how the whole ‘creating alternate personalities based off a combination of some form of herself and pieces of the Alters Ammon had killed’ thing worked, or… a lot of it. But it was right in front of us. Clearly, it happened. 

“You deserve to be somewhere nice too.” That wasn’t Marina or me, it was Letters. She stood alongside Flak, Bang-bang, and Walker. In that moment, Bijou joined them, as did Peanut, landing on Letters’ shoulder. Loudpound, the taller, sort of Orcish Denny, moved up behind the others. Even the wooden/Relukun-like Aspect I’d caught a brief glimpse of earlier, whose name was apparently Butternut, was there. Soon, the rest of the Aspects had formed a circle around us. At a glance, there were somewhere around twenty of them. And they were all echoing the sentiment that Denny deserved to be happy. 

“And you definitely don’t need to lock yourself up in there,” Marina added, with a glance toward the haunted mansion. “No one deserves to be in there.” She gave a quick glance toward Theodore, who was standing a bit apart from everyone else. “No one.” 

There was a moment of quiet, as Denny stared at the ground, then looked up and took in all of her Aspects. “Thank you. I… really did want this place to be fun for you.” She took a breath and let it out before looking over to Marina and me. “I won’t go back in the mansion. But… but I don’t think I’m ready to go back out… there again yet. The things I… I felt when I killed him, I can’t–I can’t go out there right now. Not yet. But… the others can.” 

“You mean us?” Walker put in. 

“All of you,” Denny confirmed. “And me too, sometimes. I mean, later. I made you. Or… something made you. I don’t know, exactly. But you’re here. You’re real. You’re people too. You deserve to walk around in the outside world. We can share. We can take turns. Maybe if I just take turns it won’t be so hard.”

Oh boy was there a lot I wanted to say to that. I felt like this was far out of my league. Denny needed a psychologist. Maybe we could get one inside here to–right, yeah. That was going to be a whole thing. But on the other hand, she was right that if all these Aspects were real personalities and all, they did deserve to have their own chance ‘outside,’ as it were. 

The Aspects were all talking amongst themselves about what it would be like to go outside. Some seemed eager, others uncertain but willing, and a few made it clear that they had no desire whatsoever to do it. 

“Maybe I can help you,” Theodore put in, clearly hesitantly. “I mean, if you want to talk about… about what happened, about our memories. Maybe that would help?” 

“I think it would help both of you to talk about them,” I managed. Sure, the idea of Denny getting help from someone who looked like the boy who had killed her–yeah, the whole thing was fucked up beyond belief. But if this was really a part of Ammon that wasn’t evil, the part Fossor had suppressed or… or whatever, then they might just be the only two who really understood each other and what they were going through. 

“I’d like that,” Denny was saying, while staring at him. Her voice was just as hesitant as his, yet she had clearly thought it through. “I have… questions about a lot of things.” 

“We can stay in here and talk about all of that,” Theodore offered, squirming a little uncertainly. “While the others go outside.” 

“Outside,” Jordan, the water-focused Aspect with the blue skin/scales and trident put in. “We can really go outside?” 

“We… have to be fair about it,” Denny murmured thoughtfully. “So… you go outside with the hall pass. Like the restroom at school.” As she said that, a white plastic thing about eight or nine inches long, four inches wide, and thin like a bookmark appeared in her hand. The words ‘Hall Pass’ were written in cursive purple letters across the front, and there was sparkly glitter on it. 

“One at a time,” she announced, before holding it out. “You can give it to each other, but you can’t take it without permission. You have to share.” There was a moment of uncertainty among the Aspects, but in the end, Walker took it. She, after all, had been the one to bring us in here in the first place. Well, Bijou had asked for our help to start with, but she was still a bit skittish about the idea. So Walker would go first. 

“Denny,” Marina started. 

The other girl interrupted. “It’s okay. I just… I’d like to be in my carnival for awhile, with my new friends.” She glanced toward Theodore with a hesitant smile before turning back to us as the smile faded a bit. “I can’t go out there. I’m not ready. Tell Dakota I’ll be watching. And she can come in here and visit. Just have–have Walker bring her.” 

This… hooboy, this whole situation was really confusing. But I had no idea what to do or say about it. Obviously, Denny needed help beyond what either Marina or I could give her. Not because she wanted to share her body with the other Aspects, that was understandable. But her reluctance to go outside at all, I felt like someone should talk with her about that. Someone who was better at it than me. When you added in the whole Theodore thing, it was… eesh.

Instead of getting into all that, however, I leaned over to embrace the girl. “You have Walker pull us in to talk to you a lot, okay? And Dakota’s gonna want to hop in and see this place too.” 

Marina expressed the same sentiment while embracing her as well. Both of us made her promise to have us and others visit her. Finally, we all stood up. The rest of the Aspects closed ranks around Denny, clearly protecting her. 

Turning to Theodore, I hesitated once more. “I don’t know–I don’t know what to say to you. Not right now.” 

“That’s okay,” he murmured with a self-conscious squirm. “I don’t know what to say either. I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. If… I know it’s a lot, but if you ever want to talk again, you know where I’ll be.” 

I paused, then nodded. There wasn’t a lot I could say to that, but there was one thing. Reaching out, I forced my hand to stop trembling before putting it on his shoulder. As he looked up at me, I took a moment to find my voice. “I’m glad you aren’t in the haunted house anymore. Just… just stay away from those memories, okay? You belong out here, where you can… where you and everyone else can help each other.”

He nodded solemnly at that, looking like he had no idea how to respond. Which was fair, since I had no idea what else to say just then. At least I didn’t have to figure it out right away. He would be in here, and if I wanted to talk to him again, well, I could. 

Yeah, this situation was fucked up, to say the least. But we were just going to have to deal with that. Just like every other fucked up situation in my life. 

With the other Aspects clustered around Denny and ready to help her, Walker remained standing near the two of us. The gray-skinned girl cracked her neck, then glanced to Marina and me while clutching the hall pass in one hand. “Ready to go back outside?” 

Before either of us could answer, I felt that twisting, shifting sensation. And just like that, we were gone once more. 

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Four Deaths Four Killers 19-08 (Heretical Edge 2)

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A few minutes later, Marina and I were walking through the carnival once more. We were passing a spinning teacup ride as the other girl shook her head. “I’m still not sure exactly what’s going on. Are we really inside Denny’s head? Like, literally inside her? Is this what it’s like when you possess someone?” 

I swallowed slightly. “Not exactly. I mean, there can be mental constructs. I’ve got something like that when I’m training with… one of my new friends. She helps me out inside my head, and she’s got this whole virtual reality sort of thing. But this seems different, somehow.” My shoulders rose in a helpless shrug. “I guess we just have to roll with it. Weird stuff happens in this universe.”

“I’m pretty sure weird stuff happens in every universe,” she replied before leaning over one of the game booths to call, “Denny! Denny, it’s okay! We just want to talk!” Pausing then, she grimaced. “Saying it like that makes it sound like we actually want to do more than talk, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s hard to make that sound right,” I agreed before looking around once more. Several other versions of Denny, or Aspects as they called themselves, were in sight. The Pixie, who had introduced herself as Peanut, was zipping through the air, hovering over one aisle, then another in a frantic, clearly disorganized aerial search. Meanwhile, the fire-controlling, red-skinned Aspect (her name was Flak) was flying a bit more slowly, but with more deliberateness. Then there was Bijou, the bunny-girl, who could apparently phase through solid matter. She kept running back and forth through the booths and rides, searching under everything in sight while fretting out loud. The shabbily-dressed werewolf, who we had come to find out was named Feisty, was moving along one of the other aisles. I caught a glimpse of her now and then, slowly pacing while sniffing intently in an attempt to catch the right scent. 

Everyone was looking for the… I wasn’t sure if ‘regular’ Denny was the right term or not. They were all helping us search for the Denny we knew. But nobody was having much luck. This mental construct of a carnival was enormous, and it seemed like there were hundreds of places for her to hide if she didn’t want to talk to us. And that was if she was even actually in the carnival. What if she had taken herself out of this particular construct and was somewhere else entirely? Was that even possible? I had no idea. I didn’t know enough about any of this. For about the millionth time that day, I wished someone like Sariel was here. She’d have a much better idea of what to do. She probably would have solved this entire situation by now. 

As it was, all we could really do was keep walking around while calling the girl’s name and hoping she would both hear and listen to us. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was all we had. I really wanted to find Denny. She had to hear that what happened hadn’t been her fault, that she hadn’t done anything wrong. We had to tell her that she wasn’t turning into a monster, in a way that she might actually believe. But first we had to find her.  

While Marina and I were looking under another booth, just in case the girl was curled up there, someone came around the corner. I looked up to see yet another half-Alter Aspect of Denny. This one wore military fatigues, and had hair that was very short, like a buzzcut. Other than that, she looked a lot like the Denny we knew, aside from something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

Coming to an abrupt halt, the military-Denny snapped a crisp salute. “Bang-bang, reporting in. We believe we have movement in the haunted house on the southwest side.” 

Haunted house. Right, why hadn’t I thought of that? Given the mood she was probably in, it made sense that Denny would have hidden herself inside the scary place. Marina and I exchanged looks before turning that way. Before we could go anywhere, however, Bang-bang spoke up behind us. “Pardon, it’s a bit of a hike and, given the urgency of the situation, we can get you there faster, ma’ams. Walker?” 

That shadowy, cloaked figure appeared out of nowhere and held her hands out to us. “If you’re actually gonna help Denny, come on. Before she disappears again.”

I only hesitated for a second before reaching out to catch her hand. Marina had already done the same, and we instantly vanished from that spot. I felt my stomach twist itself into knots, which was an odd feeling considering it wasn’t my real stomach. Or any stomach. This whole thing was just a mental construct. So… actually, I had no idea how that worked. Clearly I wasn’t in my actual body right now. But was my real body still outside? Was it in limbo? Was I sort of technically possessing her? Were we both– huh. Yeah, I had a lot of questions. But right now, all that mattered was finding Denny. 

As soon as that wave of disorientation and nausea filled me, it was gone, as we found ourselves standing in front of the haunted house in question. It was at the end of a long, winding path through what was supposed to be a graveyard. The tombstones themselves were covered in webs and moss, while the dirt around the graves was pushed up, with bits of broken coffins visible. Clearly that bit was intended to make it seem like the dead had torn themselves up out of their own graves. Which, as far as that sort of thing went, was pretty effective. 

Then there was the haunted house itself. The place looked like an actual mansion, five stories tall and covered in dark vines and more spiderwebs. It was positively creepy, even just from standing out here on the brightly lit path next to the rest of the carnival. I really wasn’t excited about going in there, not when I didn’t have any powers right now, or any weapons. It just didn’t sound like my idea of a fun time. But then, this was just inside Denny’s mind. Nothing could actually happen to us, right? Nothing would happen. We were going inside to get Denny so we could talk to her. That’s what mattered. We just had to find her in there. 

Landing nearby with a short burst of flame, Flak stared up at the house and swallowed. “The bad place. She shouldn’t be in there. Why did she go in there?” 

“Bad place?” I echoed, looking that way. “What do you mean?” 

It was Letters who answered, stepping up on the other side of us while speaking in a quiet, subdued voice. “We have lots of Ammon’s memories locked up inside there. The bad ones. The scary ones. Why would Denny go in that place? There’s nothing good in there. It’s where we locked everything terrible away.” 

Marina answered immediately. “Because she thinks she’s bad too. She’s trying to lock herself in the bad place because she thinks she belongs there. She killed Perrsnile. So she thinks she deserves to be locked up with the other bad things.”

Without another word, the girl gave me a pointed look before stepping forward. There was a loud, anxiety-inducing creak as she pushed the gate open and started along that path toward the front door in the distance. I was right behind her. Letters, Walker, Flak, and Bang-bang followed suit. The other Aspects were staying outside, and the four who were with us didn’t seem that happy about being there either. I had a feeling this place creeped most of them out pretty badly.  Which, if it was holding what they said it was, I really couldn’t blame them for. I wasn’t exactly eager to see any of Ammon’s memories myself. This whole thing felt like a terrible idea. 

Glancing to the side, I saw the gravestones. They had names on them, and dates. It took me a moment to realize what they were. The graves were for all the people Ammon had killed. These were the names of all his victims. That thought made me swallow, as I realized just how large the cemetery really was, considering the thing stretched out into the yard behind the mansion. This… this was a very bad place for Denny to lock herself inside of. No wonder the other Aspects were so anxious about it. I certainly wouldn’t want to be here if I had any other choice.

Finally, as we reached the front porch and mounted the painfully creaking wooden steps to the door, I grimaced at the sight of the heavy bronze knocker. It was shaped like a twisted demon head with its mouth open in a horrifying scream, and had what looked like real dried blood over it. If this had been a real haunted house (well, ‘real’), that would have been a pretty decent bit of attention to detail. The fact that Denny had made this herself made me wonder if she was pulling from memories the older her had. Which might’ve been a strange thought to wonder about, but I really had no idea what we were walking into here. It felt like we needed to have all the information we could. But on the other hand, we didn’t have time to sit and think about it. If Denny was in here, we needed to get her out. The details could wait. 

Ignoring the knocker, Marina grabbed the knob and shoved the door open. It was really stiff and groaned loudly through the entire motion, which just added nicely to the whole ambience, really. We couldn’t have more obviously announced our entrance if we’d come with a full brass band. 

Despite that, we moved into the front foyer as silently as possible. Our eyes were snapping quickly around the room to take in as much as possible while watching for any threats. Not that we had any idea what sort of threat we might find in a place like this, but still. We just had to watch and be careful.

There were more webs and very realistic-looking skeletons (okay, they were probably literally real as far as the mind-space went) hanging along the walls, along with a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. Next to the stairs was a set of double doors, while a smaller door stood to the left. The whole place was lit by soft candles that flickered a lot, casting incredibly creepy shadows in every direction, which kept making my gaze snap toward them as my brain misinterpreted the dancing shadows as actual movement out of the corner of my eyes.

For a few seconds, we were quiet, looking around while listening for anything. Then Marina shook her head and muttered something about having enough of that. She raised her voice and shouted as loudly as she could, “Denny! It’s Marina and Flick! And…” She looked to the other four before adding, “your friends! It’s okay! Everything’s alright! Please, we just miss you, that’s all! We want to see you! You didn’t do anything wrong! You’re not in trouble!” 

She trailed off then, and we all listened once more. Aside from the eerie sound of her words echoing through the house, there was nothing. No response. If Denny heard us, she wasn’t responding. Which didn’t really mean anything right now, considering the situation. Looking over at Bang-bang, I asked, “Come to think of it, I probably should’ve asked this before, but what did you mean when you said someone saw movement over here? What exactly did they see?”

“She was in one of the windows, ma’am,” came the answer. “All the way up on the fifth floor. But then later they saw her in the fourth floor window, and it looked like some sorta shadow moving over the second floor bedroom balcony just before we came in here. So we’re not sure where she is now. Seems like she’s moving around a lot. I’m in contact with the troops outside, though. If there’s any new signs of our girl, they’ll let us know as soon as it happens. It’s all clear right now.” 

“Uh, sorry, Miss Bang-bang, but how are you in contact with them?” Marina asked, blinking that way. “I mean, do you have like, a radio you’re listening to, or…” 

Shaking her head, Bang-bang replied, “Apologies Miss Marina, but I have to say, I just prefer the more masculine pronouns. He, him, if you don’t mind. I know it’s odd, considering our circumstances and where we come from, but that just feels more natural to me, personally-speaking.” 

Pausing to let us absorb that, sh–no, he continued. “And, as it turns out, most of the deaths I’m connected to are Alters with powers that involve delayed or charged effects. A lot of that involves explosions of various types. Charge a rock with power and set it to go off after a certain amount of time, or when someone says a specific word. Not just explosions either, there’s a whole list. That’s the general idea. But ahh, another Alter I’m connected to happened to be what is called an Iesean.” It sounded like Ice-eon. “Among a few other things, the power I have from that includes the ability to mark objects and then see and hear through them. I’ve got a few of those objects with people outside so they can talk to us.” When my mouth opened, he nodded to me. “Just like the one you killed in Las Vegas, ma’am, for your lesser version of the power.” After a brief pause, he grimaced. “Ah, when I say lesser–” 

“It’s no problem, really,” I assured him. “Believe me, I get it. But just so you know, Marina and I don’t have any powers or anything in here. We might end up being more of a handicap than you expect, if there actually is something bad in this place.” 

“You might not have superpowers,” Letters informed us quietly from where she was standing near an old painting of a lighthouse on the edge of a cliff, “but you do have a lot of regular power. Denny likes you, both of you. She’s afraid you’ll hate her now, that you’ll be disgusted by her, for what she did.” She paused briefly, eyes glancing away from us while she continued in a very soft voice. “For being like Ammon.” 

“She’s not like–” Stopping myself as I realized that Denny was the person who really needed to hear that, I took a breath before turning to start walking to the stairs. “Let’s go. If she’s in here, we have to find her. This isn’t a good place for anyone to be, let alone Denny. Especially not in the mindset she’s probably in right now.” 

Dad had taken me through a few different ostensibly scary places in the past, wanting to show me the various ways you could tell that there was nothing actually wrong. It was part of his teaching me to logically think through things and spot inconsistencies. Especially when it came to what people said and what the rest of your senses told you. He’d wanted me to learn not to let a few frightening images mixed with the power of suggestion completely take control of my brain.  Between that and the much scarier, very real life and death experiences I’d had over the past year and a half, there really wasn’t a lot that a normal haunted house could’ve thrown at me. 

But of course, this wasn’t a normal haunted house. Not in the least. As we began to make our way through the place, we all began to see half-transparent images floating along the walls and in the corners of the rooms. It was all images taken from Ammon’s memories of the horrific things he had done throughout his life. They were like bits from a video projector that was always just out of sight. And they were often better than flat images. More like holographic videos played on the windows, on the walls, or even right out in front of us now and then, as though whatever was behind these images wanted to drive home a particular point about how evil he was. The people he had killed, everyone he had tortured and destroyed, we saw it all as we slowly made our way through that mansion and looked into all the rooms we could find. Not every second of his interactions with them, but just… the highlights. Or lowlights, rather. The worst parts. We saw him kill them, we saw them beg, we saw–we saw all the terrible, horrific things that were part of Ammon’s past and had been passed on to Denny’s memories. We saw what Denny was torturing herself with through all of this. 

It was, to put it mildly, not a very fun time. The four Aspects who had been walking with us were mostly huddled together, trying not to look at the various images that kept presenting themselves to us. Flak had created a ball of fire and was making it fly in front of us to illuminate things better, but also had another, smaller fireball cupped in her left hand protectively. It seemed like she was just barely stopping herself from lashing out with that one to burn everything around us. 

Finally, as we were subjected to yet another image of Ammon pushing a girl and an old man down an elevator shaft while a bunch of people looked on in horror, Flak blurted, “So what?! That wasn’t us!” With those words, she finally reared back and hurled the ball of fire she was holding so that it went flying out to burn away the ghostly images of the screaming, falling girl. It created a very disturbing effect as the girl in the hologram seemed to be burning up while in mid-fall. “We didn’t do that! None of us did! It wasn’t us! It wasn’t her and it wasn’t us! Fuck off!” 

“Damn straight,” Bang-bang insisted. He held his hand up, speaking firmly toward his palm. “Johnny Nines.” His voice sounded odd in those words, sort of echoey and deeper than it should. A second later, a nine-millimeter pistol appeared in his hand. He saw us looking that way and gestured. “Other side of the Iesean powers, ma’am. If I touch an object and empower it with a name, I can call that name and summon the object to me. Also fits that whole ‘charge an object for a later effect’ theme my power set’s got.” 

“You named a gun Johnny Nines?” Marina realized, blinking a bit at that. 

He, in turn, shrugged. “Well, you know, guns and cars always get girl names. I wanted to switch it up.” With a cough, the boy added, “We gonna go find the chief or what? Feels like we should probably get a move on. This place is… more unsettling the longer we stay in here.”

He was right, of course. So we kept moving. Now we knew some more of what Bang-bang could do, though I was still curious about that whole ‘timed explosion’ thing. And, of course, we already knew about Flak being able to create and control fire as well as fly, and Walker was a teleporter (though given we had no idea where we were going in this place, that didn’t help as much as it might have). Finally, Letters, as she explained it while we were walking, was basically a technopath. A pretty strong one too, apparently. Which, again, didn’t help a lot in here. But she wanted to come along to help, and I was pretty sure we would need as many different… Aspects as we could get if we were actually going to convince the… first Denny that she wasn’t turning into some evil monster. 

Yeah, this whole thing was so complicated I could barely keep up with it. But all that really mattered, past all the confusing parts, was getting to Denny and talking to her. Seeing all these Ammon memories, which she had clearly locked herself up in here to torment herself with, made that even more clear than it had already been. 

The creak of a door at the end of a nearby hallway made my head snap that way. I could barely catch a glimpse of some shadowy figure standing there, visible through the crack. “Denny?” I called. “It’s us. It’s… it’s okay, we’re here to help.” 

Marina nodded. “Come on, let’s get out of here. You don’t need to torture yourself with this stuff.” 

“The torture isn’t for her,” a familiar voice quietly informed us, before the door creaked open even more, so we could see the figure standing there. A small boy with bright blond hair. “It’s for me.” 

My eyes widened dramatically, as I found myself reflexively stepping in front of Marina. “A-Ammon?” 

There was a brief pause before the figure shook his head slowly. “No. Not Ammon. I’m the one who was locked away, the one my father tried to destroy. 

“Our mother called me Theodore.”  

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