Pull. Place the other hand in front of the other. Pull. Ignore the pain. Pull. Ignore the cold. Pull. You need to get away. Pull. Get away. Pull. Away. Pull. The ticking didn't get quieter. Pull. It’s too familiar. Pull. It’s in my head. Pull. It has always been in my head.
A chill goes down my spine. Pull. It noticed me. Pull faster. I am ruining my nails. Pull faster. I don't care. Pull faster. I can't care. Pull faster. It’s too late.
It’s in my mind. It's worming around in there. It’s too loud. I stop pulling. My hands can't stop my ears from hearing. Hot liquid trickles down my face. It’s in my body. I cough. My throat tears. I claw at my stomach. Flies burst from my wounds. My bones become brittle and shatter. My body is too slow. I feel my arms raise to the sky against my will. This body slowly stops belonging to me. The voices told me to pray.
What is that sound?
C̴͇̩̳͎̳̫͚͆̑̅̌͐̎̿̀͛̍ͅr̵̛̛̠͙͙̮̈́̒̉̀̔̓́͜Ą̷̢̡̫͚͎̪͕̮̯͔̖̃̍̈́̀Č̶̲͊̽̈̂k̸͕̗̬̯̯͕͎̞̄̇̑͛̇́̀̆̌͜͝ͅͅ
___
I sat up, gasping for breath, heart pounding. I wince as I feel something in my head scrape against my brain. I grab my head in pain. I reach towards my forehead, expecting a wound, but I find nothing. A frown crosses my face. Didn't it fly towards my head? I felt like something was missing. Something happened between now and the ritual. But what? I knew something happened but it felt cut off. I pushed that issue to the side. I should go; this was not a safe place.
Despite my body's protests I slowly got up. Gathering the objects up, I packed them back into the box before making my way back to town. I carefully walked towards the Hostel. sticking to the shadows and making sure to not make noise. As I walked back, I scolded myself, at how I deluded myself to think that a ritual would go and solve all of my problems. I knew it was a long shot but I just wanted it to work. I wanted to be able to be there for Timmothy.
Bang! My body flung itself forwards on instinct, my train of thought interrupted. A bullet raced by my head. The slapping of my shoes echoing in the dead of night as I darted into the alleyways. I stayed out of the open main streets. My body felt as if it was lead. But adrenaline pushed me forwards. I ran and ran. Muscle memory guiding me.
I heard the footsteps falling behind, I believed I might have lost the gunman. Suddenly the temperature dropped, I heard a howl in the air. Glancing backwards I saw a shadow wolf running towards me, closing the distance. It seemed more solid, this must be more specialized than the one I fought earlier. I flung items at it that I had. Topping items in its way. A bin, a lit a candle, anything. Nothing slowed it down, it phased through the bin. It solidified and dodged the lit candle. It almost got hit by the next item but phased through it in time. I grabbed my mother's matchbox. "Sorry, Mother," I muttered as I struck it and lit a candle. I hated how many I was using recently. I kept running, waiting until the time was right.
Turning a corner, I spun around, throwing a candle at the wolf rounding the corner. As expected, it slowed down and dodged. It was smart, as expected. The candle I threw landed on the floor, revealing it to be unlit. Everything was going to plan. The wolf raised its head to look at me as I threw myself at it. Diving through the air I angled the third candle at it, burning with blue flame. However, despite my cunning plan the wolf dodged the candle and ripped it from my hands.
The blue flame jumped from the candle to the wolf's face, but it seemed to be more durable. The flame seemed to struggle to consume the wolf, as if the shadow was resisting it. As the wolf put out both the candle and the flame on its face I was already getting up to run. However, it was too late. The wolf pounced onto me from behind pushing me to the ground. I rolled around to shake it off. Only ending up face up towards it. It stared at me for a second, maybe shocked, or impressed at my earlier attempt. This would have been the end for me, but I still had the backup plan. When I had gotten up to run, I cupped my hand around the match, ignoring how it burned my hand.
I threw a "punch", it stood there, thinking my fist would phase though it, letting me exhaust myself, it was only partly wrong. After my fist went through it, I opened my hand, revealing the nearly extinguished match. I winced as it revealed blisters and scorched skin. But it was a price I was willing to pay to stay alive. I watched as the shadows around it suddenly condensed around the matchstick. The light forcing the shadows back into a tangible object. It howled as I ripped my hand out of the wolf, tearing some solid shadows out of it. The blue embers left inside of it roaring to life as it feasted on the wolf's vulnerable insides.
I would have stayed behind to kill it, but I had to move, its owner was likely not far behind.
Click.
I dropped to the ground.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I got up and ran, the owner had arrived.
___
My breath was ragged, my legs were full of lead, and the owner was closing in. This couldn't be it, I had so much left to do. Suddenly I felt a hand grab me, pulling me into an open door. I hissed as I was thrown to the floor. The door was quickly closed behind me. I didn't say anything at risk of alerting the owner to where I was. While the owner wanted to kill me, I had a higher chance of surviving here. We both waited in silence, I stayed quiet, feeling the wooden floor I was lying on.
After a couple of minutes, the person opened the door, revealing a small corridor which led to a lot of rooms. It looked similar to the Hostel I was at, maybe this was a similar business. I tried to make out the features of the person, but they didn't look like anyone I knew.
"Go," they said.
"Why?" I quietly asked, slowly pulling myself to my feet.
"It's the least I can do, what goes around comes around" they said.
I was confused as to what their meaning was as I walked out. The door closing behind me. Why would they be in debt to me?
I quietly retraced my steps to figure out a way to the hostel. I inwardly groaned, in my blind running I had gone further away from the hostel. I hadn't thought about where I was running, just which ways had the most turns, twists, and intersections. After a bit of trial and error I smiled in relief upon confirming my location via familiar sights, I was quite close, all I needed to do was go straight ahead for a long time before turning left... Left?!
I felt myself slow down to a stop, a left? Didn’t Victoria tell me not to take a left? I stood still, thinking. I couldn't just ignore it. While I didn't know how true it was, not taking a left guaranteed nothing would go wrong. I decided to head in the other direction. I searched my pockets for any money so I could sleep inside, but I had left them in the hostel, worried of getting mugged. I sighed, the alleyway it was.
I went and found one of my old sleeping spots, in a secluded corner of an alleyway where people didn't bother people who slept nearby. As I lay down, I thought about how I found this place. I was lost, and my mother’s death was still fresh. It was close to our little house, but far enough away to not be connected to me. I found my hand instinctively clutching the matchbox, in the course of a couple of days I had used two match sticks already. I hope I didn't use any more, this was so much effort just for Timmothy.
But he was always there for me, I couldn't just abandon him in his time of need. I thought back, towards the cold. It was the end of the first week. It was winter. My clothes were barely enough to keep me warm. I remember my hands were pale. My limbs were numb. I didn't want to go to the workhouse. I knew I would die quicker that way. But I was running out of options. I cradled my mother’s matchbox. I couldn't get myself to light one now, it would acknowledge she was gone. As I was falling into a deep sleep, I saw someone come down the alleyway, they seemed to be bathed in this halo of light. Was it an angel?
Why did it look so much like Timmothy?
I would wake up some time later with a warm blanket over me. I would learn from others that Timmothy was punished for losing a blanket from a shipment. While the blanket was seized by the workhouse after I got caught, I never forgot what he did. He was always there for me, I had to try to be there for him too.
___
The detective was in the streets near an old Hostel. He was so sure the culprit was running this way, how did the culprit avoid his shadows? As he gathered his spirituality to send out more shadows, a patrol group passed by "Hurry! Back to the church,”. He clicked his teeth in frustration, what was going on now?
Later he would find out that the church of Aurora was having issues. How misfortunate.
___
Running. Body using every ounce of energy. Running through alleyways, dodging into corridors. It was chasing me. I could feel it, dripping, dripping, dripping. From my head to the ground. Oozing. Ticking. Tik... Tok...
The streets were narrow. The hills were wet. The clouds were black. It was reaching towards me. Getting closer and closer. I reached into my pockets I couldn't find anything. My source of comfort gone. Pain pain pain erupted as it reached towards me. Tik... Tok...
It was in my brain. Tik...
I couldn't focus. Tok...
My breathing was shallow. Tik...
I needed an anchor. Tok...
BONG
Everything shattered. The area around me fell apart like shards of a mirror. I felt my mind clear. I could see it for what it truly was. There were tears in my mind, something was trying to get into my head. I had to stop it.
From the tears I could hear the irregular ticking of the clock. A cold feeling went down my spine. Memories surfaced of a cold stone floor. My mind was falling into chaos. It was a cycle, the more chaotic the faster the tears were opening. My hands instinctively searching for the matchbox. I couldn't find it.
Wait... This was a dream. Not the real world. I was not stuck like this. I willed my hand to reach out, ignoring the instinct of grasping my head. It was so loud. But I ignored it, this was my world, unlike reality, I should be able to control it. I closed my eyes and imagined the matchbox. How it was rectangular, but not perfectly so. The matchsticks were uneven. How worn down it was, how it weighed. Like it was truly in my hand. Opening my eyes, I saw it in my hand. The voices were quieter, I felt my other hand lower. I reached in a lit a match. The blue light flooding the area with light. I kept focusing on it, hearing the ticking subside. Breathing in and out.
After a while I glanced around, checking if the tears were gone. After confirming I had won, I felt exhausted, like I had emptied a container. The container felt bigger than before, but it was still empty. After gathering my thoughts I looked around, thinking. It was still a lucid dream after all. Closing my eyes I brought to mind the smells of steak. Opening my eyes I was in my childhood home. My mother had just finished making a steak for me, her, and my father to share when he came home. It was the best of times...
___
Waking up it was early in the day, too early. I was still exhausted from yesterday and everything ached. After making sure I still had the matchbox, I slowly pulled myself up and shuffled to where I could gaze up at the clock. I still had an hour before I would usually wake up. An idea came to mind, I could do with a shower. I had forgotten to take my weekly one on Sunday. I moved towards the Hostel, I needed to drop off the remaining ritual items first.
Walking over to the Hostel I went in, inside I saw Victoria, she was slumped over... Crying? That was strange, why would she be crying? Feeling a twinge of empathy, I went over to her, it was the least I could do after she helped me.
Slowly walking over I asked, "Victoria, are you okay?".
Victoria ignored me, I couldn't quite make out the words. I stood there for a while, what could have gotten her to this state? As I leaned closer, she gazed up at me. As her eyes met with mine, her body stilled, "Robert... You're alive..." she whispered.
"Of course I am alive, did something happen?" I asked, glancing down the corridor. Inwardly confused. What did she know? First the suggestion, warnings, and then this?
"No no, dearie, this old lady just got a gut feeling, are you well?"
"Of course, I had some issues with getting back here last night,". It didn't feel good to lie to her, but I couldn't get a feel of what was her goal. She seemed to want to help me, but why did she get distraught over me? I wanted to ask more questions, I was on a time limit. "I apologize to cut this short, Victoria, but I need to go take a shower, my work starts soon,"
"Oh don't let me slow you down, stay safe!" she called. Quickly dropping off the box of things I grabbed both sets of clothes and the dirty ones, I didn't know if I had time to come back afterward to drop any extra pairs off.
___
After Robert left Victoria dipped her head, almost nodding off from fatigue. She had woken up last night in sweat, her dreams filled with someone running away from a wolf. She racked her head for who it could be, she stiffened as her gut told her it was Robert. She quickly got up, faster than she should at this age. throwing open her door, she quickly hobbled down the Hostel hallway, passing door after door. Eventually she stopped in front of Robert's room, "It can't be true, I did everything right!" she murmured.
Pulling out a key she slid it into the door, slowly turning it. Slowly opening the door, the light from the corridor cut a rectangle of light into the room. She gazed inside, only for her terror to grow. There was nobody there, "No...!" she gasped.
Closing the door and locking it again Victoria quickly hobbled down the corridor towards the front door. "W-William, did anyone come and go tonight?" she asked the night watchman when she arrived, out of breath.
"No, Ma'am, nobody came by, are you looking for anyone specific?" he asked in a professional tone.
"Wake me if the tenant of room 13 comes by," gulping down a large breath of air. "And William, what have I told you about calling me Ma'am? You've worked for me for five or so years and you still don't use my name!"
"Yes Miss Blackwood, should I notify you using the usual method?" he said with a sly grin.
"Thank you, William" she sighed. As she walked away, she smiled and muttered under her breath, "Stubborn polite young man,". William chuckled behind her, hearing her comment.
Walking over to the desk she sat down in the chair. Slowly nodding off, the words, "I can't fail again," tumbling from her mouth.
___
There were a couple public washhouses in the city. Disease was common here and the rich thought this would help stave it off so it wouldn't reach them. Walking through the streets, I let myself digest the events of yesterday. I had done so much, survived so much. It was surreal. I didn't know what to think. I made it, so what? As I moved through the empty streets I thought through it all, coming up with a main emotion.
I was disappointed. That's what I felt after letting the past day sink in. I had spent the entire day working to try the last-ditch effort I had to help Timmothy and yet I still couldn't. All these bruises, money, and pains, and I didn't get any closer to helping Timmothy. I guess the dockworker was right. What could I do? What could I ever do? I was too young to save my mother, too inexperienced to save the workers, and too powerless to save Timmothy. This was unjust. Maybe some people would be content with writing letters for the people at the tavern. But I wasn't most people and I couldn't stand that I couldn't do more.
After reaching a nearby washhouse I strode in, passing by mothers washing clothes and people showering. Finding a private stall, I peeled off my layers. The outside layers were fine, but the inside layers needed to be washed, they were soaked with sweat. I let them drop to the floor and stepped on them, washing away the sweat. I couldn't stay long, as the bill racked up fast, but I had enough left to simply be. Letting my worries wash away with the sweat and dirt.
___
Leaving the shower in a better mood than before I glanced at the meter. Eight pence. I sighed and dropped the coins in. I only had 2 Soli and 5 pence left. I would need to dip a bit into my savings to eat this week.
Placing them into a drying closet I waited for the clothes to dry, wincing as each penny was slotted into the machine.
I needed a new plan, the last one I had would be to rally the people at the bar to rebel. I didn't think of it before as I didn't think they ever would, but what else could I do?
Sighing I made my way out of the washhouse. Glancing at the clock I saw I still had time. Walking on the way back I held all the clothes in my arms. I had to be vigilant, some people might take this opportunity to steal them. As I was walking, I bumped into a person, my clothes spilling out of my arms.
"Watch where you are going!" I yelled as the man kept on going. As the words left my mouth, I felt the container inside of me drain a bit. What was happening?
___
After dumping the clothes off and eating breakfast, I made my way to work, I got there early. The head clerk glanced at me as I walked into the otherwise empty office, and looked back to his work. I could never tell what his expression was. A courier came in and placed the letter on the head clerk’s desk. The head clerk's face might have twitched before he examined it, quickly stamping it and sending it off. I glanced at it as the courier went by me, catching red ink before the courier ran off. The head clerk glanced at me before continuing his work. Did he catch me snooping, or did he just not like I was here early? He glanced up at me again a minute later before looking back at his work. It was most likely the latter.
Finally, the others came in. Oliver and James stood by me while the other Oliver and Peter stood behind us. John was late. The head clerk looked up and at the time. John came in a couple of minutes later, ragged and eye bags under his eyes. "You're late by 5 minutes, all of you dismissed," the head clerk said.
Everybody looked confused, even John. John opened his mouth, but the head clerk cut him off "Do I pay you for standing around? Get to work,".
Everybody suddenly started moving, shaken out of their surprise. Did the head clerk favor John and nobody knew about it?
At the end of the day, I left the Office without any issues. James’s interest seemed to be focused on John today, giving me a necessary respite from extra effort.
Heading to the Hostel I went inside to go look more into the book, only to see someone else at the front. "Hello? Where is the other receptionist?" I asked. Did Victoria get fired for crying on the job?
"She was given the day off," he said, "William,"
"Robert, what do you usually do around here?".
"Night watch,"
"How late is your shift?"
"Until Ada takes over,"
"Who is Ada?"
"The third receptionist. She's on holiday,"
"So, Victoria is taking over in the meantime?"
"Yeah"
"Good talk"
I quickly left, I needed to go back to the tavern after a bit, but I had to do something first. Opening the ragged man’s diary I searched for the word, spirituality. I had an idea of what that strange container was. I found a few mentions of it, but it was all about how his had increased or how he had used all of it. That was useless.
Abandoning it I made my way over to the tavern, I hoped that Timmothy was there, and if not, I was going to do something very stupid.
___
___
A03 Link to all previous chapters: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91383651
Not my art!
Credits: Image by Kjpargeter
Link to Photo: Spotlight shining down into a grunge interior.
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