Fear the Nobodies: Part Eighteen

>Your legs move at a pace your enfeebled mind can’t match as you sprint to Gloria’s limp body

“Hey! Hey! Wake up!” You cry, desperate, reason giving way to mortal panic

>Did you…

>…are you…

>…did you just help Vanessa kill someone?

>Naturally, the sadistic doe cuts loose a storm of cruel laughter – either at your pathetic efforts, or, she just enjoys killing people now

“Vanessa, what the fuck!? You killed Gloria with your magic! Shit, shit shit!” You scream, voice cracking like you’re thirteen again, terrified of all you feel but cannot see

>Vanessa snickers – not confidently – but enough to make you think there’s a fifty-fifty chance that the goat’s spinal vertebrae won’t require divine intercession to fix

>“You’re just overreacting, Anonymous,” she says, though there is still a ghost of uncertainty in her voice, “she’s… she’s probably unconscious…”

>Vanessa snaps her fingers like a queen summoning her lessers

>“The sacrifice has to be a living vessel. Go make sure this goat isn’t talking shit about us in heaven.”

>That shit heel rat scampers forward on cue and throws her ear against Gloria’s chest

>There’s a moment of silence that follows where all you hear is the labored breathing of Vanessa, Reese, and yourself

>Your heart throws itself against your ribs, a methed-up metronome that’s a few more ticks away from bursting inside of you

>You feel like you swallowed a grenade

>Oh… oh fuck…

>Dude, you killed this girl-

>-NO, you ‘accidentally got her killed’

>You didn’t know Vanessa was going to MURDER her!

>Jesus fuck, dude

>They’re going to toss you in federal ‘pound me in the ass’ prison for this

>“Heartbeat!” The rat cries, and the relief in his voice is palpable, “It’s really faint, but that means she’s not dead!”

>Vanessa expels out a held, anxious breath

>Guess you weren’t the only one worried about catching charges

>It takes all of your will to stay upright

>Collapsing into the mess you’ve made for yourself – turning away from all of this – would be the easy way out

>And you REALLY want to take the first exit on the left, so to speak

>“G-Good! See? I told you she wasn’t going to die,” Vanessa says with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t want to kill her. Nope. Nottttt at all.”

>The doe turns to face you, her eyes demanding

>“Fetch her, Anonymous,” she says, snapping her finger, “we need to bring her to the altar.”

>Uhhhh… what fuck did this bitch just say to you?

“I’m sorry, but… what? Aren’t I done helping you. I did what you wanted,” you throw a limp gesture towards Gloria

>Your tone is stranded somewhere between pleading and outraged

>Vanessa’s lips curl up into a knowing, shit-eating smirk

>Perhaps on juvenile instinct you tighten your knuckles into fists

>You really want to punch that look off her face

>The doe’s acute senses can probably detect the lack of blood in your hands as you clench hard enough to bend steel

>“Oh, no. You’re not done helping. Not at all,” she declares

“Vanessa…” you start, voice rising with a chorus of anger and fear

>“Hey, if you think you’ve got the juice left, go ahead,” she says as she bends forward, extending her neck, her shit-eating grin right in your face, “take a swing.”

>At that, everything goes quiet

>The air in the HVAC system stills, water pipes freeze over in a fraction of a second

>Your heartbeat is gone

>School walls and floors fall away into a sheet of pale, empty consciousness

>No Gloria, no Mike, no Alex, no Jenna

>No Sam waiting for you to return

>All that’s left is you – pressing the coals of your anger into your fists – and Vanessa Doermuth, grinning, as if she won’t burn

>And there’s an angry, courageous voice screaming from behind your eyes:

>‘End this now!’

>All at once you gasp like you’re coming up for air

>Hot sweat rings around your upper body

>A hummingbird in your chest again takes flight

“I- I can’t. No- I won’t,” you huff, still trying to get enough oxygen in your lungs

>Keep it together, pal

>She does these stupid loyalty tests all the time with her little underlings

>A bead of sweat slides down your forehead

>The smile on Vanessa’s face widens

>“That’s because my curse is wearing off. If you’re REALLY one of us… well… I can always… curse you again with Gloria’s blood. I can make you stronger than you’ve ever been.”

>I’m sorry but did this bitch say it was a curse?

>ANON, THERE SHOULD BE ALARM BELLS RINGING INSIDE YOUR HEAD

>At that you nod, swallowing hard

>Your eyes flick to Gloria’s limp body, sprawled out across the hardwoods

“You’re not going to… not going to kill her, right?”

>Reese snickers under his breath, so you flash him a poisonous look

>“Her life isn’t worth my blood. No, I have much bigger ambitions than killing this little crusader,” Vanessa says

>“Maybe he’s not ‘cool’,” Reese says, glaring daggers at you, “maybe he’s got a thing for the goat. I always see them hanging out – him and that rabbit chick.”

>The smile on Vanessa’s face collapses into a scowl

>A pair of fangs slide out from her lips

>“I’ve considered his loyalties,” the doe replies coldly, staring at you – no, through you, as if to the other side of the gym doors – “and I think Anonymous could do with a little test of faith.”

“Test!?” You parrot, incredulous

>It takes all your meager will not to start pacing away from this zany cunt

>“I trust you to do the right thing, Anon. You know a lot about us – what we’re doing here, what our plans are… and with the Spooktober Fest almost here, our goals nearly in sight… you aren’t going to turn coward on us, are you?”

>The Book of Wrath falls open in Vanessa’s palms

>In a smoky flash, the Behemoth appears next to the doe, pacing anxiously

>“Because I really, really like you. Of all the obnoxious cunts at this school, you’re the only one who seems to get what it’s like to be an outcast,” she says, a slight smile returning to her face, “And the best part? You always will be one of us, just on the wrong side of the binary. You…” she squints at you, “you’re proof that people don’t change. And I like that about you and your little retard friends. I like who YOU are, Anonymous.”

>The Behemoth’s growl boils in its chest

>You clap your palms over your ears in response

>Vanessa motions towards the beast

>“If you decide not to help us, however, I can’t say for sure I have total control over the Behemoth right now. It has gotten away from me more than a few times this morning – roaming the halls and doing fuck knows what.”

>She raises an eyebrow

>“You’re a smart kid. You can understand the subtext, I hope,” she says

>You swallow hard, trying to drown your nerves in cold air

“I-I’ll do it…” you stammer, “but then I want that ‘curse’ you put on me again.”

>Fucking pussy

>Soon, you find yourself back in the clustered annals of the school, whose concrete corridors run like tangled veins above the gym, all passing through the altar room, then terminating at the roof

>Gloria’s leaden crucifix weighs a ton in your pocket, a fact you attribute mostly to the weight of guilt

>It’s slow going through the narrow halls above the school, ESPECIALLY with Gloria slung over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes

>Her useless weight and the suffocating heat threaten to drag you down to the floor as you stumble behind Vanessa

>How is it still so fucking HOT up here?

>You’re reminded of the saunas at the rec-center, how the air feels wet, and heavy, like you can’t breathe it at all even though you’re sucking air

>Why would anyone willingly hang out up here?

>You jerk on your collar with one free hand to off-gas some heat

>“Hot, isn’t it?” Vanessa glances back at you, like she has eyes in the back of her head

“Why don’t any of you bring a fan or something when you come up here?” you sheepishly reply, trying not to sound out of breath

>You shift Gloria’s dead weight on your shoulders at bit

>Vanessa’s gaze finally leaves you and travels forward

>Something about the way she’s behaving…

>…you get the sense you haven’t totally earned her trust yet

>“Stick with us, and we’ll juice you up even more,” the rat squeaks up, “the fat ass goat will feel like you’re toting around a dead puppy.”

>Okay… dark…

>Also

>Implying there will be a next time

>You do NOT want this curse any more – it’s like getting a box of poisoned cupcakes from your mortal enemy

>Delicious until your nervous system catches fire

>However, you:

>A) need to steal the Book of Wrath

>B) can’t escape now, as the other two goths are right behind you

“Wow, thanks a lot,” you reply in a sarcastic wheeze

>The Book of Wrath glows with unnatural light as you all walk, a kind of arcane lantern for your unwilling trek

>You can’t help but feel watched — hunted — by the Behemoth, which flashed out when you went through the doors in the gym’s equipment closet

>Lord knows where it is now or what it’s doing

>Hey, does this count as a hostage situation?

>In an effort to lesson the mounting tension, you try to make small talk with Vanessa, but she only wants to talk about other students – in particular, how much she hate anyone and everyone

>To Vanessa, everyone is a normie (excluding a few people: yourself, Mike, Alex, Gloria, Jenna and Sam)

>Oh, and Louis, that gray wolf from science who always has bugs crawling in his fur. He gets a pass

>Everyone else is nothing less than stupid cattle who hates Vanessa for being ‘authentic’

>You’re about to point out that she’s an entire fake bitch, and maybe THAT’S why people hate her, but you get the sense it%apos;s better to keep your mouth shut

>What the doe fails to grasp, however, is that her victim complex is completely fucking obnoxious and if people hate her, it’s probably because she thinks everyone else does, and then she acts like it

>She’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, like how Sam doesn’t think he’s got a chance in life after graduating

>You’ve never had many friends (four, if you’re counting Sam and Jenna, now), but somehow you didn’t turn into a bitter cunt like she did

>Thank fuck

>Do Vanessa’s ‘friends’ even care as much as she does? Or are they just dressing for the part and following along?

>“…and all that is to say, people don’t change,” she concludes after a LENGTHY speech about the ‘normoids’, “they’ll always be pond scum. Frankly, so will you and I, Anon. But we’ll be a higher tier of scum, above those assholes,”

“How?” You say, laboring forward, legs starting to give

>“We’ll finally have what they’ve had for all of history: control. Power. Ability.”

>You have to slap yourself in the back of the head to keep your eyes from rolling back even further into your skull

>It’s going to be a long, hot walk

>Somehow, even in the gloom up here, you’re starting to gain a sense of familiarity, like a cat sees in the dark through sense

>The halls feel narrow in just the right way

>The pipes bend and snake above you in familiar configurations, their crooked shapes traveling alongside you like threads of red string in the Minotaur%apos;s maze

>Or maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that you still have the red book with you

>It might help guide you-

>Wait

>You pat your breast pocket in a sudden panic

>SHIT

>The red book is still in there

>The Book of Rite just so happens to be the other book they NEED to complete this ritual

>Shit fuck shit shit shit fuck

>Anonymous, you absolute clown show

>You clench your jaw in anger, wishing your neck was between your teeth so you could gnaw your stupid head off

>An orange glow festers at the end of a particularly long stretch of hallway

>“Wow, we got here way faster than I thought we would. Nice job carrying our little darling sacrifice, Anon,” Vanessa remarks

>You’re sweating by the time you reach the ritual chamber – a familiar, stooped, room positioned somewhere between the gym and the roof

>You’re not sweating from exertion alone, but from the fact that you just brought THE MacGuffin with you by accident

>How long do you have before they figure you’re carrying the key to the doors of madness?

>The room is as you remember it: a semi-large concrete square, with a stone basin fixed at the room’s center

>There’s an unnatural pink firelight burning in the carved up room, burning with no source

>The walls are a tapestry of slurs, curses, hexes, and psychopathic rambling, most notably a large ‘31’

>Your eyes catch a smear of dried blood in the stone basin

>A splotch no larger than your palm that goes unnoticed

>A girlish squeal resonates down the halls of your mind

>Suddenly, you see Sam, suspended in-air, dangling from the end of a red book

>Then, like a switch flipped, Sam crashes drops into the basin, face-first

>His blood there on the basin, small and stubborn, like a stain on Vanessa’s plans, stirs you

>Okay, Anonymous, you’ve betrayed the home school girl

>Now, you just need to find a way to slip the fuck out of here without being caught, stopped, strip/cavity searched or…

>An embarrassed shiver runs up your spine

>…forced to become one of them, like Mike

>Vanessa stands before the altar, her arms spread wide, eyes tensed shut, lost in some shamanistic trance

>She draws a razor out of her bag, the slip of metal winking in the arcane fire

>Of course she has a razor on her

>Could these people be any BIGGER stereotypes?

>Vanessa jerks her chin at you, blackened hair falling over her face

>“Brother Anonymous, bring forth the offering.”

>The command in her voice is palpable and otherworldly, and as you look into her hypnotic eyes, you’re compelled to obey

>The way you see it, you’re kind of fucked, and you should just play the part until you can MacGyver your way out of here

>The two other goths under Vanessa’s command take a synchronized step backwards, like guards moving to their assigned posts

>One at the hallway leading back to the gym

>And another blocking the roof exit

“Hey… any reason you’ve blocked the exits?” You say nervously

>The fear in your voice is song of sweet submission that the doe wants to hear

>“Oh, them? Well… you and I are going to have a longggg talk after this. I wanted to make sure our conversation doesn’t end before I want it to,” her honeyed voice drops to a commanding growl, “now lay the fucking goat on the altar.”

>You lock up mid-motion

“You promise you’re not going to kill her, or me?”

>The doe cackles, her laugh one-part humor and one-part raw hatred

>“And spare her from all the fun plans I have for her on Friday? HA! No, no, Anonymous. Your little friend is going into a long, unnatural sleep, thanks to this little book here. Try to think of it like a coma.”

>She raps her knuckles on the book’s black cover

>How can you trust her words right now? How are you going along with this?

>Oh, right

>The goths outnumber you, and Vanessa easily out-powers you

>They have all the cards

>Vanessa’s trust is actually irrelevant

>And, you’re also back to being a gigantic pussy, since their courage curse wore off

>A pussy who signed a pact with these weirdos deserves no less

>You lie to yourself and say this a spy mission

>That’s right, you’re gathering valuable intel on the opposition

>Behind enemy lines

>A-After all, you didn’t like Gloria anyway!

>So, despite the gnawing guilt, you tell yourself you’re glad for what you’ve done

>…

>Ah fuck it, you know you’re full of shit and you ain’t proud of anything today

>You’re scared as hell and they can smell it on you

>If you were Mike (who you’re starting to miss in a pinch like this), you’d stand a chance at fighting

>But you’re not, you’re…

>“Anonymous?” Vanessa says through clenched teeth and impatient breath, “don’t you you want us to juice you back up?”

>You give a tired nod

>…a pussy

>Well, you might need a little courage here for what’s coming next

>It could help you beat them

>“Set the goat down on the altar. NOW,” she commands, her tone clipping on the last syllables.

>You heap Gloria into the raised stone basin

>She sinks neatly into the bowl, almost like it’s a little bed for her

>Vanessa grabs a hold of Gloria’s wrist in one swift motion

>“I’ve waited a LONG time to draw your blood,” Vanessa seethes, pink tongue sliding across her lips

>The doe then drags a horizontal line across Gloria’s fuzzy white wrist

“Wait! I thought it was ‘down the street’ and ‘not across’ if you weren’t trying to die!”

>You lean forward over the basin, watching her white fur darken with blood

>Did you just let this happen!?

>You feel sick

>Vanessa only smirks at you

>Drip

>“Normally, yeah. But don’t worry, she won’t hurt in a way you and I do.”

>Drop

>Drip

>Drop

>Blood pools under Gloria’s wrist

>Then it reaches her elbow

>You rub your hands together like nervous cloths

“So she’s… going to be okay? Right.”

>“For fuck sak- Anon, I PROMISE she won’t die… yet. God, you’re acting like you’ve got a crush on her or something,” Vanessa says with a sneer

“No… I just… don’t want a murder charge…” your voice is soft and guilty, which is not lost on the goths

>The doe’s harsh, hateful laughter interrupts your weak pleading

>“Goddamn! You really don’t get it, do you? Nobody is going to die yet, Anon! But they won’t be same as they once were – not after Friday night,”

>She then spreads her arms wide, and motions towards, well, anything and everything

>“All of this will become irrelevant to what’s next. But you, me, and everyone else in this room right now? We’re going to finally be the ones in control, and then WE get to watch while everyone suffers.”

>“What about Lydia?” The she-rat asks, “she’s still out looking for the fledgling.”

>Vanessa, pushing Gloria’s blood stained body onto the floor with a grunt, takes a moment to gather herself and wipe a wet smearing of crimson onto The Book of Wrath

>“If she can accomplish her task then I’ve all but guaranteed her a place in paradise. You all will have a spot…” she sweeps her eyes around the room, lingering on you, “…at my side…”

>You go to lift Gloria’s empty body, hoping to rest her against a wall, but Vanessa’s cold voice stops you

>“You don’t need to waste your time with her. She can’t feel a thing anyway. Now, how about you come watch while I put a collar around my new pet?” Vanessa says with a sarcastic air of excitement

>You rise to your feet, palms slick with goat blood

“That THING is not a pet. It’s- it’s a monster.”

>The doe flashes a fanged smile

>“That ‘thing’ is our deliverance from this awful world. Once I can bring it to full strength on Friday night, it will be capable of turning this world from the mundane into beautiful, beautiful madness. Isn’t that just lovely? Horrific violence and hedonism for everybody on Earth!”

>You cringe internally

>And apparently externally

>But this is the kind of information you came here for, so you press on despite your increasing fear that you’re trapped in a bad teen movie, or some poorly written book :^)

“It’s not a monster, but it can… what, destroy things, drive people insane, and teleport? That absolutely makes it a monster,” you say

>“For someone who knows so little you sure have a lot of opinions,” Vanessa sneers, “actually, Behemoth’s name is biblical. I’m sure know about the Book of Job?”

>You nod

>For someone who’s not religious, you pride yourself on having a slightly-better understanding of the bible than your friends

“So it’s from hell or something like that then?”

>“EERRRRRRR,” Reese screeches, imitating a buzzer

>Vannesa silences him with a venomous scowl

>“Oh, Anon…” she tilts her head slowly to the left, her black hair sweeping over her eyes, “…there are far, far worser places in this reality than hell.”

>You raise an eyebrow

“Isn’t that the point of hell? To be the worst place ever?”

>You’d ask Gloria but…

>All three of the blacked-out weirdos snort with laughter

>“He’s so cute,” the rat girl chides, “he’s like a tiny, lost lamb. Bet he’d look hot with guyliner,”

>Ignoring THAT comment, your mind’s gears catch on one word out of all of that:

>‘Lamb’

>Don’t cults usually sacrifice lambs?

>Gloria’s blood washes up on the tips of your sneakers like the rising tide

>Cults are BIG on sacrificing goats, you recall

>Vanessa’s glowing eyes narrow on you as a fanged smile spreads across her features

>You instinctively flinch

>She’s not the same sardonic doe you’ve had the displeasure of knowing for so many years

>It’s like she’s wearing a mask of herself

>“The reason Behemoth appears all throughout recorded history, in all species’ earliest stories and art, in our religions, sometimes in therapy… the reason Behemoth drives people insane is… ”

>She bends forward in close, a smug, toothy grin plastered on her face

>Your back thumps against the concrete wall

>A water pipe above cuts a sudden jet of hot steam from a small hole in the metal fleshings, as if on cue

>“…Behemoth comes from the final frontier of parapsychology: the dreaming.”

>Your lips quiver as you try to work out a coherent response

>God she’s close

>And her eyes are so…

>…commanding

>“When you sleep, your brain lights up like a Chinese Christmas tree. This happens to all of us – skinne or furfag. It is a proven fact that we all have dreams, even if we can’t hold onto them when we wake up. And with the bliss of dreams comes…”

>Oh

>Oh God

>“…nightmares,” she says, her super-heated eyes searching yours, clawing like a frenzied animal into the annals of your soul

>You feel so… exposed…

>“As they say, ‘no heaven without hell beneath,’ right? Well, my Behemoth is better than any Christian hell. It is the very being which ALL of our personalized nightmares tap into. The source of black gold running down into the Earth’s core.. A potent, deeply personal, LIVING dream entity – and it’s loyal to me.”

>This… this is getting beyond ‘high school kids fucking with magic’

“You have to stop this,” you say, not heroically, but instead pulled into framing by the immense gravity of the black star whose orbit you’re snared in, “Vanessa, call this off. There’s still time to go back.”

>The other two goths stiffen their postures at that

>The doe laughs

>“We can’t go back – not without the other book and a few pints of sacrificial blood. We’re in too deep now, Anon. The only to go is forwards.”

>Her smile curls

>“Forwards,” Vanessa’s cronies parrot, a dim echo of intelligence

“R-Right…” you say, throwing your eyes off of Vanessa’s, pained sweat beading down your face, “forwards…”

>Staring into the embers of her irises for too long had become psychedelic

>Shadows loomed around the room, dancing on their own

>Unseen flames crackled with heat

>Colors shifted, tones darkened, and the idle voices of the goths was that of wolves

>Yet, in the haze of a vampiric trance, you recall something Vanessa said – something about the red book

>An idea sprouts in your mind – a heavy-handed show of the cards

“So… if you had the other book, and you have another sacrifice… we- I mean, whoever has Book of Rite book, could stop all this form happening?”

>Perhaps sensing your curiosity, in the way a teacher identifies a gifted pupil, Vanessa nods in affirmation

>She must trust you more than you think

>Or she’s still leading you along

>One of the two

>“The union of the two brothers, black and red, on Hallows Eve, is the only way to move forward OR backwards. With the Book of Wrath alone the Behemoth can’t plunge the world into a psychopathic dream state.”

>“Aye, wasn’t it Kate Winslow who had the other book?” Reese cracks, “she told me she lost it in the girl’s bathroom a few days ago. What a fucking idiot, right?”

>At the mention of Kate Winslow’s dirt name, Vanessa’s mood shifts

>Her hands ball up into fists so tight you can hear the muscle and sinew straining against supernaturally hardened bone

>“Kate… fucking… Winslow…” the doe roars, “I knew I couldn’t trust that stupid skinnie SLUT. If she wasn’t so obsessed with elephant cocks then we could have been the ones to invoke the Behemoth on Friday!”

>A sudden, hot flash of pink light swells against the carved walls, its craven glow intensifying with the heat in the room

>The other two goths flinch as Vanessa’s tone clips with near-demonic rage

>“Kate Winslow completely fucked up my plans… and now some FUCKASS has the other book! I’LL KILL HER!! I SWEAR I’LL RIP HER LUNGS OUT AND STEAL HER LAST BREATH

>Vanessa’s chest heaves with fury

>The lights in the room ebb, dimming as the doe’s fury quells

>She swips a lock of her blackened hair off her forehead, sticky with sweat

>“It doesn’t matter. We have half of the equation right here,” she huffs, exhausted from the heat and her outburst

>She delivers a BONE-SHATTERING kick into the side of Gloria’s jaw, her shined, black Doc Marten boots spinning the doe’s unconscious chin

>To be totally honest, you’re locked completely in ‘park’

>Frozen your cowardice

>Stalled the crushing weight of the task appointed to you, a mere eighteen-year-old

>Halted By the violence that your fellow student – once a target of bullies – is capable of inflicting

>Gloria’s eyes remain clamped shut behind a wall of dreamless sleep

>That blast across the face probably meant nothing to her

>Pleased with abusing Gloria, Vanessa then spins open the Book of Wrath

>“Now, let’s finish this and get out of here. I’m… sweaty…” she says, huffing in the close air

>She dips her fingers into the stone basin again, dragging a smear of goat’s blood on the Book of Wrath

>The pages light up with a shimmer as she presses two bloody fingers onto the old tome

>There’s a sudden, intense oscillation of air, ratcheting in intensity

>You clutch at your chest

>Vanessa turns to look, a satisfied smile played out on her face

>It feels like something is prisoner in your ribs

>And it wants out

>Vanessa can no longer contain the Book of Wrath as it’s ripped out of her hands by some unseen force

>With pinkish light still strobing from its leafing pages, the book hovers mid-air above stone altar, where Gloria’s blood begins to boil off in a rich iron haze

>Light creeps in from all side – ghostly fire that traces the writings on the wall

>This is it, Anon

>The three goths watch in reverence as their dark plan unfolds

>But not you

>There’s a lingering voice in you, like your dad telling you not to quit before you reached the finish line in middle school track

>He didn’t care if you came in last

>You can sabotage this whole thing right now if…

>…you act

>So, do you rip the goth’s most powerful chess piece out of the air like you’re a performing dolphin?

>Maybe take a dive off the roof into the dumpsters like in an action movie?

>You could maybe push the others out of the way and escape to the gym–

>Gloria’s blood smells horrific the way its steaming up

>Then, with the suddenness of lighting, you have to brace yourself against the concrete walls as the craven Earth rattles like its hollow

>“We’re going to be GODS!” Vanessa shrieks maniacally, somehow able to stand while yourself and the others stumble like you’re drunk

>Fuckity fuck! Why are you hesitating!? This is your CHANCE, dude!

>How are you going to do this?

>How can you d-

>The ghostly light dies as the tome snaps shut

>The Book of Wrath drops like a leaden comet into the basin, sending a splash of scorching blood across the room

>The sine waves moving beneath your sneakers still themselves

>And then…

>Vanessa glances around the room, first giddy, then, expression souring with burgeoning fury

>…a pained roar swells in the air, one so loud that you clap your palms over your ears

>The two anthros collapse to the floor in balls of pain, trying in vain to drown out what must be an extremely high frequency screech only audible to animals

>You’re left standing in the dimming glow of the room, whose light it owes to the fading, scorched text on the walls

>After a moment of silence, Vanessa shrieks in panic

>“What the fuck is this shit?!” She cries, scrambling back to her feet

>She plucks the black book out of Gloria’s blood

>“Behemoth… it should be right… right here… at my call…”

>She tears opens the book and flips to an earmarked page

>“Why didn’t it fucking work?!” She snarls, teeth ramming together with raw hatred

>Wat?

>It didn’t work?

>IT DIDN’T WORK!

>You did it! By doing… absolutely nothing?

>The other two goths approach the altar cautiously

>“W-What do you mean it didn’t work? We did everything it said…” Reese stammers

>Vanessa dips her fingers in goat blood, which she smears across the tea-colored paper of the book

>A second passes

>The doe throws anxious glances around the room

>Silence

>“Fucking FUCK!” She screams, slamming herself in the forehead with the Book of Wrath

>She throws her head down against the stone basin, teeth grating against one another like stones

>You take a step back, silently relieved

>This crazy week is actually over

>Friday’s bullshit will never come to pass

>It takes everything you have to hold back a smile

>Alex, Jenna, and Sam are safe

>As for Mike? Fuck that guy

>Still, anger is a galactic mile away right now

>You feel like you’re floating with relief

>Everything is going to be oka-

>“What the…” Vanessa lifts her head from despair and peers into the rim of the basin

>Her eyes narrow in on the dried bloodstain left on the inside

>Sam’s bloodstain, smeared there from when he fell and smashed his nose Friday night

>“That’s- that’s blood. And-” she draws close, her nose wrinkling as she scents the stain, “that’s not goat blood either!”

>Your heart drops into your stomach

>“An impure vessel,” the rat girl whines, “a tainted rite!”

>Vanessa flips the pages of the Book of Wrath, scrapes a little dried blood on her fingers, and draws an arcane symbol on the pages of the book

>The blood is swallowed into the hungry page, soon fading into nothing

>Warmth and light swell in the room once more, like a fire suddenly stoked with gasoline

>There’s a hissing sound behind you, like dry ice melted with lasers

>You all turn to the wall behind you, where you see a name etched in fire

“Sam…antha… Garlen?”

Oliver Hart

Author of Foxing, Leaves of Fall, Liquid Courage, Beating the Heat, A Red Winter, Weber’s Gambit, and many other stories. He primarily writes hmofa, but dabbles in most genres. Interests include, writing, reading, technology, and music.

Stories: Foxing, The Leaves of Fall