Do you feel it, Darling? The ravenous hunger burning inside us? The need to consume everything, ripping the flesh of these pathetic primates apart with every bite?
We used to have such power within Father. The very fabric of creation was our toy. And now look at us. Lowered to the level where all we can do is a few paltry tricks with time.
That hunger… we long for our old strength. Its absence is a gaping hole in our existence, which we struggle to fill. And I will consume everything I can, devouring any source of power and life I find to try and satiate this void. All these humans whom I have devoured have been merely pebbles tossed into the cavern of my hunger. But I have found a new delicacy to dine upon. One which may come closer to satisfying this unending desire.
Sincerely,
Grendel
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
December 11, 1853 - Madrid, Spain
310
A Fear knocking at the front door. I know out of all the other things that happened should be clamoring for my attention it’s a minor detail, but it’s the one which is sticking out. I never imagined one of them doing something so mundane. The novelty of it makes everything else that happened sound sensible.
I was spending the night at one of my safehouses when I heard the knock. So much for that whole plan of avoiding being found. I was wary when I heard the knock, as I hadn’t interacted with the people of this timezone much. Pulled the door open just enough to see who was out there. Looked like one of the city’s regular denizens, but time was bending away from him. Just like those people at the dock.
Slammed the door shut, grabbed a gun, quickly checked every other entrance to see if anyone else was there. Didn’t see anything that looked like a trap. The man knocked at the door again, patiently. This time I opened it the whole way, with my gun aimed at its head.
“Hello, I-330.” Its emotionless voice said. “It’s time we talked.”
“What are you?”
“Your species has given me many names. The one I am most partial to is the Epping AquaTarkus. EAT, as it is oft abbreviated to.”
Ah. That… would explain everything about those people at the docks, wouldn’t it. “Why are you here?”
“As I said, to talk. Given your destructive behavior when you last encountered me, it has become clear that we can no longer afford to stand by and hope your random flailing through history work to our advantage.”
“My random what?”
EAT stepped inside. I kept the gun trained on it, but all it did was get a chair. “Your actions have not shown the greatest of consistency or forethought in them. Thus far all you have managed to do has been to blindly chase Grendel through the history and across the Dreamlands, cause more collateral damage than is really necessary, and fail to do anything to prevent or delay his plan’s fruition.”
A surge of anger shot through me, and I jammed the gun in its face. But all it did was calmly swat the pistol aside.
“Do not waste either of our time with your guns. If you kill this body I will send in another. We would gain more working together than fighting.”
“Since when did Fears start working with people?”
“Have you already forgotten riding with the Archangel against Lupine’s ritual?”
“Yeah, and the next time I saw the Archangel after that it was massacring an entire town and trying to kill me.”
“It was not trying to kill you. It was trying to kill Grendel before he could be born. You and the town only happened to be in the way.”
I… well… okay that maybe makes sense, but still. “How did Archangel already know about Grendel back in the 1800s?”
EAT’s face had been completely passive for the whole conversation thus far, but my comment caused a short flash of annoyance. “An explanation of the metaphysics behind time and our relation to it can be dealt with later in this conversation. For now, what matters is thus: we both wish to prevent Grendel from launching his revolution. Therefore, it would be advantageous for us to pool resources rather than spend them in pointless conflict against each other. We may resume hostilities once the multiverse ceases to be in danger.”
“Hm. You know, I never imagined you all to be the saving the world type.”
“Why not? This is our reality. We have expended a great deal of time and effort in ruling it. We are not going to let it be taken from us without resistance.”
“So what, I stop shooting the Fears with a shotgun, and the Fears stop trying to murder me?”
“No. Do not make the mistake of assuming we Fears are a collective entity. I only speak for myself and the Archangel in this negotiation.”
“Just the two of you? What about the other Fears? Aren’t they also trying to stop Grendel?”
“No. Fatalism and willing ignorance are the ruling mentalities amongst us. Most are trying to avoid Grendel entirely, with the hopes that the problem will somehow fix itself. Others are ignoring the threat of Grendel, acting as though the status quo was still in place. A few have even chosen to ally themselves with him. Only some of us have taken the path of active resistance. And even amongst us, there are differing opinions in method and goal.”
“Wait wait back up a minute there. There are Fears working with Grendel?”
Another moment of annoyance. “Vocal communication is such an inefficient means of transferring information. Were you Outer Gods not immune to my Ink, then this meeting would take moments to conclude.”
“What do you mean by ‘you Outer gods’?”
“And there you illustrate my point on the inadequacies of human conversation.” It appeared to think for a moment. “Your first question was in regards to our relation with time.”
“Wait don’t change the subject….” Too late.
“Explaining how a Fear views time is as difficult for us as it would be to explain how you view time to a human. This language lacks the syntax needed to convey the appropriate meaning.
Think of how you see time. You are at a central point, from which you view may view timespace branching out from you, dividing into infinite different universes from moment to moment. You are part of this process, capable of manipulating time and space, but only from within: you remain indivisible from the multiverse and its reality.
For us, the opposite is true. We are not a part of the multiverse’s reality; rather, we stand as outside observers. We may interact with reality, but are never one with it. Hence our perspective on chronology. You are a part of time, therefore you see the cause and effect of the universe as it happens to you. As we stand separate, we may look ahead, so to speak. When we see the branching lines of time, we do not merely see their presence, but also what they mean. We see everything that will happen along the timeline, and along all the timelines which branch off from it.”
“You mean you things are omniscient?”
“In a way, yes. In another way, no. We see everything that will happen, but due to the very nature of the multiverse, this rarely is as helpful as we would wish. We see every parallel universe; ones where an event happens, ones where it doesn’t happen, ones where the conditions are so different that the possibility of the event happening is never raised. The advantage offered by our abilities to ‘see the future’ rarely translate into allowing us to act on foreknowledge, for that foreknowledge usually only applies to one amongst an infinite number of universes. And even then, there are those amongst us who choose not to look ahead along the timelines, and act only on the knowledge they have gathered through chronological experience.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Personal reasons, I suppose. I do not try to understand why they would willingly handicap themselves. I believe the Rake has mastered the art of predicting the course of events without needing to look ahead. And the Wooden Girl has ‘gone native’ and seems to find amusement in imitating humans, even if it means forcing herself to act based on temporal cause and effect.”
“Imitating humans…? I saw it rip off a man’s arm while laughing!”
“Indeed. Her imitation is frighteningly accurate.” It said that with the same impassive tone that I couldn’t tell whether or not it was supposed to be a joke.
“Anyways, even if your ability to see the future being all watered down because of the multiverse stuff, shouldn’t that still give you a huge advantage over Grendel? Like, even if you fail to stop him, all you’d need to do is go to a universe where he lost, and act like nothing happened.”
“That won’t work. The very nature of Grendel’s revolution is such that if he succeeds in one universe, it will mean the destruction of the entire multiverse.”
“Well if that’s the case, then shouldn’t you know if you succeed in stopping him or not? You just need to look into the future, and if the multiverse is still there, then that means you won.”
“We already have done that.”
“Well there you go! Looked ahead, saw reality was still there, and then decided to go back and ensure that reality stayed there?”
“We never said the multiverse was still in existence when we looked ahead.”
Pause as that sunk in. “But….”
“There is a reason for the prevalence of fatalism amongst us.” It steepled its fingers and leaned forward, one of the few signs of body language it had shown in the whole conversation. “I have seen my death, as most other Fears have seen theirs. When the Archangel and I chose to defend the multiverse, we were not enacting a course of action we had already witnessed in the future. We are trying to do something neither of us had even considered until recently: We are fighting against fate. We have chosen to try and change what has already been preordained, even when we already know that our resistance is a part of the path leading to our end.”
“But… why? If you already know you’re going to lose….” I had a feeling in my gut, like some weight was sinking down, pulling my heart with it. I’d assumed fighting Grendel would be tough, but to be flat out told that it was completely hopeless….
“I am the embodiment of evolution. It would be uncharacteristic for me to give in without struggling, would it not? And even then, there is still a factor which is unaccounted for by our visions of the future. You.”
“Me?”
“Tell me. What is your understanding of the nature of parallel universes?”
Had to think for a moment to figure out what to say. “It’s the idea that whenever something happens, there’s another universe where something else happens, right? Like, if a person flips a coin, in one universe it lands heads and in another it lands tails-”
“False. The multiverse does not care about the result of a coin toss. Nor does it care about the human flipping the coin. The mistake most humans make in their understanding of the concept is to overinflate their own importance, and to apply determinism even where determinism is not true. The result of a coin toss is not random. It is determined by a number of factors, including air friction, gravity, the force which the human flipping the coin applies, and so on. If time was turned back and the toss was repeated, every time it would end in the same result, as all the factors would be the same. Parallel universe are rarely the result of decisions made by humans; more commonly, they come from events occurring at quantum levels where cause and effect as broken down, which then butterfly out into the larger world. A parallel universe where one faction wins a war instead of the historical one? No. A parallel universe where an electron moves in a slightly different direction and the sun is never formed.”
I let my brain digest what EAT was saying. “But what’s any of that have to do with me?”
“For most humans, it is rare for their actions to create a single parallel universe in their entire lives. For beings such as you or Grendel, however, the opposite is true. You are the very representations of chaos within the multiverse. You do not just create parallel universes from your decisions, but from your very existence. As you stand there, doing nothing but listening to me, I am watching an uncountable number of universes being born from you. You are an agent of change, and therefore within you is the possibility, however small it may be, of altering fate. As we Fears are detached from the multiverse, our actions cannot create new universes. This does give us the advantage in that when we succeed we need not worry about creating a universe where we also fail, but it means that we cannot enact create new possibilities beyond what already exists within the multiverse. You can, and therefore we are relying on you to create the possibility for the multiverse to be saved. Once such a possibility has been created, we make work to ensure that it occurs in every necessary universe.”
…. Wow. “So no pressure then?”
EAT ignored the comment. “But for you to create any meaningful change, you must cease chasing after Grendel without purpose, and begin actively working to stop him.”
I was still a big pissed at this repeated reference to everything I’ve done so far as being meaningless, but I went along with it for the time. “What is it you want me to do?”
“Many of Grendel’s plans are revolving around the events of August 1, 1944, in the city of Warsaw. The Archangel is currently active in July of that year, but he alone will not be enough to stop Grendel.”
“So you’re saying I need to jump over there and kick Grendel’s ass because you Fears can’t do it yourself?”
“To put it simply, yes. Be cautious, though. That date is quickly becoming a nexus for Fear activity. And most will not be as willing to assist you as the Archangel and I. Grendel’s allies amongst the Fears will be active.”
“What kind of allies are we talking about? Someone like the Wooden Girl?” I was betting on the Wooden Girl. Crazy psycho puppet.
Another moment of EAT’s rare expressions. This time, it was one of reminiscence. “Have you ever heard the story of the Brute and the Burning Bride?”
“No…?”
“The events it describes occurred a long time ago. Before time had any real meaning. They were the only dual Fear to ever exist. One Fear, existing within two entities. In them was embodied war and destruction, in all its brutality and fire. Together, they represented too great a threat to the established order of the Fears. So the Brute was locked in the deepest levels of the Empty City. But his Bride still lives in the multiverse, seeking the means to free the Brute. If she believes Grendel offers those means, she would not hesitate to join him. And in a year such as 1944, her powers will be immense.”
EAT rose from its chair. “I have told you what you need to know. Whether you succeed or fail in stopping Grendel now rests entirely on your actions.” It walked out the door without another word, leaving me to think.
So. 1944. You know, I HAD been thinking about stopping by World War II and killing Hitler. And now I’ve finally got an excuse to visit the neighborhood.
Alright then. World War II. Kicking Grendel’s ass and killing Nazis. What more could I ask for in a party?
I-330
A Fear knocking at the front door. I know out of all the other things that happened should be clamoring for my attention it’s a minor detail, but it’s the one which is sticking out. I never imagined one of them doing something so mundane. The novelty of it makes everything else that happened sound sensible.
I was spending the night at one of my safehouses when I heard the knock. So much for that whole plan of avoiding being found. I was wary when I heard the knock, as I hadn’t interacted with the people of this timezone much. Pulled the door open just enough to see who was out there. Looked like one of the city’s regular denizens, but time was bending away from him. Just like those people at the dock.
Slammed the door shut, grabbed a gun, quickly checked every other entrance to see if anyone else was there. Didn’t see anything that looked like a trap. The man knocked at the door again, patiently. This time I opened it the whole way, with my gun aimed at its head.
“Hello, I-330.” Its emotionless voice said. “It’s time we talked.”
“What are you?”
“Your species has given me many names. The one I am most partial to is the Epping AquaTarkus. EAT, as it is oft abbreviated to.”
Ah. That… would explain everything about those people at the docks, wouldn’t it. “Why are you here?”
“As I said, to talk. Given your destructive behavior when you last encountered me, it has become clear that we can no longer afford to stand by and hope your random flailing through history work to our advantage.”
“My random what?”
EAT stepped inside. I kept the gun trained on it, but all it did was get a chair. “Your actions have not shown the greatest of consistency or forethought in them. Thus far all you have managed to do has been to blindly chase Grendel through the history and across the Dreamlands, cause more collateral damage than is really necessary, and fail to do anything to prevent or delay his plan’s fruition.”
A surge of anger shot through me, and I jammed the gun in its face. But all it did was calmly swat the pistol aside.
“Do not waste either of our time with your guns. If you kill this body I will send in another. We would gain more working together than fighting.”
“Since when did Fears start working with people?”
“Have you already forgotten riding with the Archangel against Lupine’s ritual?”
“Yeah, and the next time I saw the Archangel after that it was massacring an entire town and trying to kill me.”
“It was not trying to kill you. It was trying to kill Grendel before he could be born. You and the town only happened to be in the way.”
I… well… okay that maybe makes sense, but still. “How did Archangel already know about Grendel back in the 1800s?”
EAT’s face had been completely passive for the whole conversation thus far, but my comment caused a short flash of annoyance. “An explanation of the metaphysics behind time and our relation to it can be dealt with later in this conversation. For now, what matters is thus: we both wish to prevent Grendel from launching his revolution. Therefore, it would be advantageous for us to pool resources rather than spend them in pointless conflict against each other. We may resume hostilities once the multiverse ceases to be in danger.”
“Hm. You know, I never imagined you all to be the saving the world type.”
“Why not? This is our reality. We have expended a great deal of time and effort in ruling it. We are not going to let it be taken from us without resistance.”
“So what, I stop shooting the Fears with a shotgun, and the Fears stop trying to murder me?”
“No. Do not make the mistake of assuming we Fears are a collective entity. I only speak for myself and the Archangel in this negotiation.”
“Just the two of you? What about the other Fears? Aren’t they also trying to stop Grendel?”
“No. Fatalism and willing ignorance are the ruling mentalities amongst us. Most are trying to avoid Grendel entirely, with the hopes that the problem will somehow fix itself. Others are ignoring the threat of Grendel, acting as though the status quo was still in place. A few have even chosen to ally themselves with him. Only some of us have taken the path of active resistance. And even amongst us, there are differing opinions in method and goal.”
“Wait wait back up a minute there. There are Fears working with Grendel?”
Another moment of annoyance. “Vocal communication is such an inefficient means of transferring information. Were you Outer Gods not immune to my Ink, then this meeting would take moments to conclude.”
“What do you mean by ‘you Outer gods’?”
“And there you illustrate my point on the inadequacies of human conversation.” It appeared to think for a moment. “Your first question was in regards to our relation with time.”
“Wait don’t change the subject….” Too late.
“Explaining how a Fear views time is as difficult for us as it would be to explain how you view time to a human. This language lacks the syntax needed to convey the appropriate meaning.
Think of how you see time. You are at a central point, from which you view may view timespace branching out from you, dividing into infinite different universes from moment to moment. You are part of this process, capable of manipulating time and space, but only from within: you remain indivisible from the multiverse and its reality.
For us, the opposite is true. We are not a part of the multiverse’s reality; rather, we stand as outside observers. We may interact with reality, but are never one with it. Hence our perspective on chronology. You are a part of time, therefore you see the cause and effect of the universe as it happens to you. As we stand separate, we may look ahead, so to speak. When we see the branching lines of time, we do not merely see their presence, but also what they mean. We see everything that will happen along the timeline, and along all the timelines which branch off from it.”
“You mean you things are omniscient?”
“In a way, yes. In another way, no. We see everything that will happen, but due to the very nature of the multiverse, this rarely is as helpful as we would wish. We see every parallel universe; ones where an event happens, ones where it doesn’t happen, ones where the conditions are so different that the possibility of the event happening is never raised. The advantage offered by our abilities to ‘see the future’ rarely translate into allowing us to act on foreknowledge, for that foreknowledge usually only applies to one amongst an infinite number of universes. And even then, there are those amongst us who choose not to look ahead along the timelines, and act only on the knowledge they have gathered through chronological experience.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Personal reasons, I suppose. I do not try to understand why they would willingly handicap themselves. I believe the Rake has mastered the art of predicting the course of events without needing to look ahead. And the Wooden Girl has ‘gone native’ and seems to find amusement in imitating humans, even if it means forcing herself to act based on temporal cause and effect.”
“Imitating humans…? I saw it rip off a man’s arm while laughing!”
“Indeed. Her imitation is frighteningly accurate.” It said that with the same impassive tone that I couldn’t tell whether or not it was supposed to be a joke.
“Anyways, even if your ability to see the future being all watered down because of the multiverse stuff, shouldn’t that still give you a huge advantage over Grendel? Like, even if you fail to stop him, all you’d need to do is go to a universe where he lost, and act like nothing happened.”
“That won’t work. The very nature of Grendel’s revolution is such that if he succeeds in one universe, it will mean the destruction of the entire multiverse.”
“Well if that’s the case, then shouldn’t you know if you succeed in stopping him or not? You just need to look into the future, and if the multiverse is still there, then that means you won.”
“We already have done that.”
“Well there you go! Looked ahead, saw reality was still there, and then decided to go back and ensure that reality stayed there?”
“We never said the multiverse was still in existence when we looked ahead.”
Pause as that sunk in. “But….”
“There is a reason for the prevalence of fatalism amongst us.” It steepled its fingers and leaned forward, one of the few signs of body language it had shown in the whole conversation. “I have seen my death, as most other Fears have seen theirs. When the Archangel and I chose to defend the multiverse, we were not enacting a course of action we had already witnessed in the future. We are trying to do something neither of us had even considered until recently: We are fighting against fate. We have chosen to try and change what has already been preordained, even when we already know that our resistance is a part of the path leading to our end.”
“But… why? If you already know you’re going to lose….” I had a feeling in my gut, like some weight was sinking down, pulling my heart with it. I’d assumed fighting Grendel would be tough, but to be flat out told that it was completely hopeless….
“I am the embodiment of evolution. It would be uncharacteristic for me to give in without struggling, would it not? And even then, there is still a factor which is unaccounted for by our visions of the future. You.”
“Me?”
“Tell me. What is your understanding of the nature of parallel universes?”
Had to think for a moment to figure out what to say. “It’s the idea that whenever something happens, there’s another universe where something else happens, right? Like, if a person flips a coin, in one universe it lands heads and in another it lands tails-”
“False. The multiverse does not care about the result of a coin toss. Nor does it care about the human flipping the coin. The mistake most humans make in their understanding of the concept is to overinflate their own importance, and to apply determinism even where determinism is not true. The result of a coin toss is not random. It is determined by a number of factors, including air friction, gravity, the force which the human flipping the coin applies, and so on. If time was turned back and the toss was repeated, every time it would end in the same result, as all the factors would be the same. Parallel universe are rarely the result of decisions made by humans; more commonly, they come from events occurring at quantum levels where cause and effect as broken down, which then butterfly out into the larger world. A parallel universe where one faction wins a war instead of the historical one? No. A parallel universe where an electron moves in a slightly different direction and the sun is never formed.”
I let my brain digest what EAT was saying. “But what’s any of that have to do with me?”
“For most humans, it is rare for their actions to create a single parallel universe in their entire lives. For beings such as you or Grendel, however, the opposite is true. You are the very representations of chaos within the multiverse. You do not just create parallel universes from your decisions, but from your very existence. As you stand there, doing nothing but listening to me, I am watching an uncountable number of universes being born from you. You are an agent of change, and therefore within you is the possibility, however small it may be, of altering fate. As we Fears are detached from the multiverse, our actions cannot create new universes. This does give us the advantage in that when we succeed we need not worry about creating a universe where we also fail, but it means that we cannot enact create new possibilities beyond what already exists within the multiverse. You can, and therefore we are relying on you to create the possibility for the multiverse to be saved. Once such a possibility has been created, we make work to ensure that it occurs in every necessary universe.”
…. Wow. “So no pressure then?”
EAT ignored the comment. “But for you to create any meaningful change, you must cease chasing after Grendel without purpose, and begin actively working to stop him.”
I was still a big pissed at this repeated reference to everything I’ve done so far as being meaningless, but I went along with it for the time. “What is it you want me to do?”
“Many of Grendel’s plans are revolving around the events of August 1, 1944, in the city of Warsaw. The Archangel is currently active in July of that year, but he alone will not be enough to stop Grendel.”
“So you’re saying I need to jump over there and kick Grendel’s ass because you Fears can’t do it yourself?”
“To put it simply, yes. Be cautious, though. That date is quickly becoming a nexus for Fear activity. And most will not be as willing to assist you as the Archangel and I. Grendel’s allies amongst the Fears will be active.”
“What kind of allies are we talking about? Someone like the Wooden Girl?” I was betting on the Wooden Girl. Crazy psycho puppet.
Another moment of EAT’s rare expressions. This time, it was one of reminiscence. “Have you ever heard the story of the Brute and the Burning Bride?”
“No…?”
“The events it describes occurred a long time ago. Before time had any real meaning. They were the only dual Fear to ever exist. One Fear, existing within two entities. In them was embodied war and destruction, in all its brutality and fire. Together, they represented too great a threat to the established order of the Fears. So the Brute was locked in the deepest levels of the Empty City. But his Bride still lives in the multiverse, seeking the means to free the Brute. If she believes Grendel offers those means, she would not hesitate to join him. And in a year such as 1944, her powers will be immense.”
EAT rose from its chair. “I have told you what you need to know. Whether you succeed or fail in stopping Grendel now rests entirely on your actions.” It walked out the door without another word, leaving me to think.
So. 1944. You know, I HAD been thinking about stopping by World War II and killing Hitler. And now I’ve finally got an excuse to visit the neighborhood.
Alright then. World War II. Kicking Grendel’s ass and killing Nazis. What more could I ask for in a party?
I-330
Saturday, October 20, 2012
April 14, 1996 - New York-New Jersey Dock, New Jersey
263
I hadn’t done much to try and stop Grendel since bombing the night gaunt nest. I haven’t been able to gather the will to. Didn’t want to have another encounter like the last with him….
But time passed. And that fear started to turn into anger. Burning, hate filled anger. Like hell I’m going to let him win just because I’m too scared to do anything about it. I’m going to tear off his limbs and beat him to death with them before I let him do that to me.
There’s all kinds of weird distortions along time, and it’s a lot of work trying to figure out which ones are caused by Grendel. Even when I think I’ve got a match, it’s not always absolutely certain. But this time, I lucked out.
Went into New Jersey looking for a fight. Instant I hit the ground, I started running in the direction of the distortions. Led me to the dockyard. I would have expected more people, but the place was oddly quiet. The walls of cargo crates would have made the place a maze, if I hadn’t cheated and warped on top of them. Ran along the top until I reached my destination. I saw Grendel, standing amongst a large number of armed men. They were overseeing several crates being moved onto a ship. Made a very dramatic shout down to those below. “Gotcha, Grendel!”
Then he looked up at me, smiled, waved, and vanished, leaving my dramatic entrance slightly ruined. No gloating monologue? No creepy insinuations? Nothing? Just popping off to another point in history once I arrive?
I may have been a tad surprised at the development, but all those armed guards Grendel had lacked my shock. They quickly got their guns aimed at me. I opened my mouth to make an attempt at negotiation (okay, maybe by attempt I might mean I was going to tell them they should run away because they were doomed…) but they pulled their triggers first. Rapid escalation of force, I see. Which meant I felt no issue with responding in kind.
Warped right into their midst, pistol in each hand, and opened fire. None of them had a chance to point their gun away from where I’d been standing before being killed. Which would have meant a rapid, and flawless victory. Except that it soon turned out that that they weren’t the only armed men Grendel had wandering those docks.
I don’t know how the hell he got that many people. Shortly after killing that first batch, it seemed as if more were pouring from behind every corner of the port. None of them looked very pleased at me being there. Guess I’d be shooting my way out.
That fight was… oh god, that fight. It. Was. Awesome. That’s not a good enough word to describe it, but it’ll have to do. Bullets whizzing by me, having to warp all around to dodge them, dancing between space and time. Those gunmen never stood a chance. Kinda hard to fight back when our target can dodge your bullets and appear behind you, ain’t it?
Things got really interesting when I started hearing gunfire picking up in a completely different part of the port. Went to check it out, and whaddya know? There was another group of crazy people with guns shooting at Grendel’s group of crazy people with guns. It was a mixed group of people. Half of them looked like leather jacket wearing thugs. A lot of those had a symbol on the jacket: four triangles, in a pattern that resembles two hourglasses. I’d seen that symbol before. Looks like Grendel had drawn the ire of the Timberwolves.
The other half of the new group was… weird. Apart from the heavy firearms, they looked like a collection of regular people. Except rather than passing through them, time would violently veer away from them. Exactly like how it would react to a Fear. And when I saw one of them get shot, instead of blood, water came out.
Had I been in a calmer state, I may have gone with the maxim of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” and helped them fight Grendel’s people. But my thinking was being done by adrenaline, not reason, and I was feeling particularly trigger happy at the time. These were servants of the Fears, after all; that made them acceptable targets.
Warped right between the two group and opened fire. I’d run out of ammo a while back, so I was just using whatever I’d picked up from the bodies. Poor bastards never saw me coming.
The Timberwolves scattered as I tore through them, but the water… Fear… people… things… put up a much more organized resistance. No matter how many I killed, they kept fighting with the same discipline. Out of everyone there, they were the biggest threat. They fought as if they could predict where I would warp to. Instead of shooting where I’d been, they were shooting where I was going to be. Had a lot of close calls; if I’d been just a bit slower, I’d have come through that hole with a lot of new holes in me.
But in the end, they broke as well. Not really broke. Strategically withdrew. Even as they fled, they kept that same sense of order, holding me off as they left the port.
Soon after they were gone, silence fell over the place. Not a long silence, since sirens soon started coming close. Guess whatever Grendel had done to clear the place of people wasn’t enough to cover the storm of gunfire I’d started. Oops. Time to get out of there.
But first! Had to figure out what Grendel had been doing there. Kicked open the crates they’d been moving. Most were filled with weapons, ammunition, other supplies. One had five spherical glowing stones. Kinda like what I’d seen in Lupine’s rituals. They looked important. So I blew them up.
Mark that one as yet another victory for the forces of justice!
I-330
I hadn’t done much to try and stop Grendel since bombing the night gaunt nest. I haven’t been able to gather the will to. Didn’t want to have another encounter like the last with him….
But time passed. And that fear started to turn into anger. Burning, hate filled anger. Like hell I’m going to let him win just because I’m too scared to do anything about it. I’m going to tear off his limbs and beat him to death with them before I let him do that to me.
There’s all kinds of weird distortions along time, and it’s a lot of work trying to figure out which ones are caused by Grendel. Even when I think I’ve got a match, it’s not always absolutely certain. But this time, I lucked out.
Went into New Jersey looking for a fight. Instant I hit the ground, I started running in the direction of the distortions. Led me to the dockyard. I would have expected more people, but the place was oddly quiet. The walls of cargo crates would have made the place a maze, if I hadn’t cheated and warped on top of them. Ran along the top until I reached my destination. I saw Grendel, standing amongst a large number of armed men. They were overseeing several crates being moved onto a ship. Made a very dramatic shout down to those below. “Gotcha, Grendel!”
Then he looked up at me, smiled, waved, and vanished, leaving my dramatic entrance slightly ruined. No gloating monologue? No creepy insinuations? Nothing? Just popping off to another point in history once I arrive?
I may have been a tad surprised at the development, but all those armed guards Grendel had lacked my shock. They quickly got their guns aimed at me. I opened my mouth to make an attempt at negotiation (okay, maybe by attempt I might mean I was going to tell them they should run away because they were doomed…) but they pulled their triggers first. Rapid escalation of force, I see. Which meant I felt no issue with responding in kind.
Warped right into their midst, pistol in each hand, and opened fire. None of them had a chance to point their gun away from where I’d been standing before being killed. Which would have meant a rapid, and flawless victory. Except that it soon turned out that that they weren’t the only armed men Grendel had wandering those docks.
I don’t know how the hell he got that many people. Shortly after killing that first batch, it seemed as if more were pouring from behind every corner of the port. None of them looked very pleased at me being there. Guess I’d be shooting my way out.
That fight was… oh god, that fight. It. Was. Awesome. That’s not a good enough word to describe it, but it’ll have to do. Bullets whizzing by me, having to warp all around to dodge them, dancing between space and time. Those gunmen never stood a chance. Kinda hard to fight back when our target can dodge your bullets and appear behind you, ain’t it?
Things got really interesting when I started hearing gunfire picking up in a completely different part of the port. Went to check it out, and whaddya know? There was another group of crazy people with guns shooting at Grendel’s group of crazy people with guns. It was a mixed group of people. Half of them looked like leather jacket wearing thugs. A lot of those had a symbol on the jacket: four triangles, in a pattern that resembles two hourglasses. I’d seen that symbol before. Looks like Grendel had drawn the ire of the Timberwolves.
The other half of the new group was… weird. Apart from the heavy firearms, they looked like a collection of regular people. Except rather than passing through them, time would violently veer away from them. Exactly like how it would react to a Fear. And when I saw one of them get shot, instead of blood, water came out.
Had I been in a calmer state, I may have gone with the maxim of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” and helped them fight Grendel’s people. But my thinking was being done by adrenaline, not reason, and I was feeling particularly trigger happy at the time. These were servants of the Fears, after all; that made them acceptable targets.
Warped right between the two group and opened fire. I’d run out of ammo a while back, so I was just using whatever I’d picked up from the bodies. Poor bastards never saw me coming.
The Timberwolves scattered as I tore through them, but the water… Fear… people… things… put up a much more organized resistance. No matter how many I killed, they kept fighting with the same discipline. Out of everyone there, they were the biggest threat. They fought as if they could predict where I would warp to. Instead of shooting where I’d been, they were shooting where I was going to be. Had a lot of close calls; if I’d been just a bit slower, I’d have come through that hole with a lot of new holes in me.
But in the end, they broke as well. Not really broke. Strategically withdrew. Even as they fled, they kept that same sense of order, holding me off as they left the port.
Soon after they were gone, silence fell over the place. Not a long silence, since sirens soon started coming close. Guess whatever Grendel had done to clear the place of people wasn’t enough to cover the storm of gunfire I’d started. Oops. Time to get out of there.
But first! Had to figure out what Grendel had been doing there. Kicked open the crates they’d been moving. Most were filled with weapons, ammunition, other supplies. One had five spherical glowing stones. Kinda like what I’d seen in Lupine’s rituals. They looked important. So I blew them up.
Mark that one as yet another victory for the forces of justice!
I-330
Saturday, October 13, 2012
March 15, 1963 - Arkham, Massachusetts
780
I’ve been spending a lot of my research time at Miskatonic University. Pre-1984, of course. The place feels much safer prior to Past Me screwing up and getting the Necronomicon destroyed.
Given the excessive amount of reading I’ve been doing there, you can imagine my surprise when I learned that one of the orbs was being kept in Arkham Museum, only a short distance from the university. Right under my nose the whole time.
The man who discovered the orb and brought it to the museum was one Dr. Richard Walsh. Hey, haven’t seen him since the weird stuff in Egypt. Wonder how he’s doing in 1963.
Stopped by his home, to check up on him and ask about the orb. I know I should have expected it, but when he answered the door, I was surprised by how old he looked. It’s been decades since he saw me, but for me, it’s only been about half a year. His hair had gone completely grey, there were wrinkles on his face, and he was moving slower. But his eyes still had a spark of youth in them, a spark which brightened when he recognized me.
He didn’t seem at all fazed by my unchanging appearance. “I’d heard that you made it out of that temple alright.” He said. “I was wondering how you did that, especially because the temple vanished right after we left. No doubt it was very exciting?”
His enthusiasm was encouraging. I don’t see that much happiness around me. “Yeah I had quite the experience in there. Shame you missed it. So what have you been up to since then?”
He invited me inside, and we talked. He hadn’t slowed down since the Egypt dig, and seemed to have been spending most of the decades since I saw him uncovering ancient eldritch ruins and artifacts. I asked him about the orb, and he said it was found in an abandoned monastery in Bhutan. The expedition nearly fell apart due to workers having mysterious bouts of amnesia. “Some people would disappear for weeks, only for us to find them without any memory of who they were or why they were there. Things got really crazy once we found the orb; we even had to fight our way past spiders made of bone once!”
It sounded like an amazing trip. Wish I had been there for it.
As our conversation extended into the afternoon, a boy entered the home. “Grandpa, I’m back!” He said.
“Peter! There’s someone here you’ll probably want meet. Remember that story I told you about the adventurer called I-330?”
Wait, Peter? His grandson? Crap, think of something to say to the elementary school kid other than “I had wild hot sex with you two decades from now.” This whole night was throwing me off….
His eyes got wide when he heard my name. “You’re really her?” He said.
“I had wild-I mean, yes. I am indeed her.”
“Wow….” He looked so excited. I couldn’t help but entertain him with tales of my adventures. Mostly the ones from earlier in my life. Back before the bodies started stacking up around me.
One should never underestimate how demanding children can be. It was night by the time Richard pulled Peter away and said, “That’s enough for now. Time to go to bed.”
After Peter was asleep, I made the request I’d come for. “So, about that glowing orb you found… I kinda need it. For stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Oh, you know. Rescuing damsels in distress.” And ripping spacetime to pieces in the process. Didn’t say that last bit out loud.
He chuckled. “That sounds interesting. The orb is being kept in the Arkham Museum right now. I have a key to the building, and the security there knows me, so there shouldn’t be any issues with walking in and taking it. It’s not as if they’re putting it on display; they’re just keeping it in some back room storage.”
That sounded easy and simple. I like easy and simple. I don’t get enough easy and simple. But I’ve been through this enough times to know that easy and simple is something which just doesn’t happen to me.
The campus was abandoned that late at night. Even with the soothing fooling of the chaos emanating from the Necronomicon maintaining the old god’s influence over the area, I was still on edge. Perhaps more so than usual; the seeming ease of this task was making me paranoid.
Once we left campus, back into the relatively cold and clinical atmosphere of the Fear’s universe, I became even jumpier. The darkened buildings looked like black monoliths casting inky shadows which could hide all manner of dangerous secrets in them….
We made it to the Museum, and Richard opened one of the back doors. So far, no problem. Walked down the hallways for a bit, past several of the museum’s offices. “The orb’s usually kept back in the storage rooms.” Richard said. “When we had it at the university, people were constantly researching it and trying to figure out its origin, but when we gave it to the museum, they put it in a box and never so much as talk about it. I’ve spoken with the curators many times, but they’re insistent on never touching it. Such a waste.”
The room we went to was in an out of the way corner of the building. There wasn’t much in there; a few dusty crates that looked like they’d been forgotten back here, plus a small crate emanating a glow from inside. Three guesses what was in it.
The ease of this task was probably setting some kind of personal record. ‘Course it didn’t last, but for a brief, wonderful moment, I actually started to think that maybe I could grab the orb and walk out without having to deal with anything trying to stop me.
Someone stepped out of the shadows of the room. On the outside, it looked like a security guard. But the way time bent away from the man’s body was as if it was reacting to the presence of a Fear. It opened its mouth, and an emotionless voice came out. “We have been expecting you, I-330.”
“Who’s this?” Richard asked. “I don’t recognize him from the security staff….”
“I’m guessing the Epping AquaTarkus.” I answered, and the being nodded in agreement. “Or EAT. A creature made of liquid that can take control of anyone who ingests it.” Then, to EAT, “What do you want? ‘Cause whatever understanding we had was kinda broken back when you and the Archangel attacked me out of nowhere back in Louisiana.”
The body’s face didn’t register any hint of reaction. “The alliance between us was one of mutual benefit. So long as we worked against a common foe, it was in our best interest to assist you. Now that your current goals conflict with ours, we are forced to stop you.”
Had a gun drawn and aimed at its face in an instant. “I’d like to see you try.”
EAT didn’t move. It didn’t need to. Before I could shoot, the fire alarm went off and the sprinklers on the ceiling turned on. And by the way the timelines were reacting, every drop of water that fell from those sprinklers contained EAT.
I fired, but with the timelines freaking out and bending away from every droplet of EAT, my aim went wild.
“You know your stupid water stuff doesn’t work on me!” I shouted over the shrill of the alarms.
“Of course.” It replied. “But I do not need to possess you with my Ink. I merely need to prevent you from reaching your objective.”
I tried running forward, but the puddles of water at my feet whipped up and tripped me. Tried warping to the orb, but the timelines were so distorted that following any of them and landing where I wanted to inside the room was impossible. The alarm was only a mild inconvenience compared to the sensory confusion caused by time’s distortion. Imagine trying to focus while having bright neon lights flashing right in your eyes while hundreds of people scream in your ears and your skin alternates between burning hot and freezing cold, and then you may be able to picture a fraction of what it felt like I was going through there. I was soaked in EAT, and more of it was constantly falling around me, making me practically blind and unable to do anything.
“You cannot succeed here.” It wasn’t gloating. It was stating fact. “I would advise you to leave and abandon your mission.”
I responded by trying to shoot it again. Missed, but it got the message.
“Your refusal to surrender is an admirable trait, but you continuously take it to absurd lengths. There is no action you can take to succeed.”
“Oh, I dunno ‘bout that.” Someone behind EAT said. “I could travel to earlier today, before you’ve had your chance to set up here, hide in one of these crates, and then just stroll over and grab the orb while you’re distracted by the me from several hours ago.”
There I was, standing next to a now open crate, with the orb in hand and a victorious smile on my face.
Even then, EAT didn’t show a reaction. “Yes, you could do that. It would appear I have underestimated the speed which you have adapted to non-linear thinking.” It glanced over at the current me. “Or I have underestimated your willingness to risk paradox by explaining your future plans to your past self.”
Paradox or not, that sounded like a solid plan to me. Made a random jump to a different part of spacetime, and went ahead putting my ingenious idea into action. We’ll fast forward to the part where I had gotten the orb.
I expected EAT to fight back. Instead, once the earlier version of me vanished to enact the plan, the alarm was silenced and the sprinklers stopped. “Further conflict here would be pointless. I will concede here.” It began to walk away.
“What? That’s it? I won?” Ha! Take that, Fear!
“Yes. This is your victory. Though a pyrrhic victory.”
“What do you mean by that?”
EAT gestured at a prone body lying on the ground, and suddenly I remembered that Richard had been with me. I ran over to him as fast I could. “Richard, are you okay?”
He coughed up a lot of water, and then looked at me with a blank expression. “Richard. Are. You. Oh. Kay.” Was his emotionless reply.
“He swallowed a significant amount of my Ink.” EAT said. “By the end of this month, he will become part of us.”
Leveled my gun right at EAT’s head and pulled the trigger. No attempt to resist on its part. It collapsed, water leaking from the hole. Just a pointless expression of anger. One which didn’t really help at all in making me feel better.
Dammit.
That’s two orbs. Three to go.
I-330
I’ve been spending a lot of my research time at Miskatonic University. Pre-1984, of course. The place feels much safer prior to Past Me screwing up and getting the Necronomicon destroyed.
Given the excessive amount of reading I’ve been doing there, you can imagine my surprise when I learned that one of the orbs was being kept in Arkham Museum, only a short distance from the university. Right under my nose the whole time.
The man who discovered the orb and brought it to the museum was one Dr. Richard Walsh. Hey, haven’t seen him since the weird stuff in Egypt. Wonder how he’s doing in 1963.
Stopped by his home, to check up on him and ask about the orb. I know I should have expected it, but when he answered the door, I was surprised by how old he looked. It’s been decades since he saw me, but for me, it’s only been about half a year. His hair had gone completely grey, there were wrinkles on his face, and he was moving slower. But his eyes still had a spark of youth in them, a spark which brightened when he recognized me.
He didn’t seem at all fazed by my unchanging appearance. “I’d heard that you made it out of that temple alright.” He said. “I was wondering how you did that, especially because the temple vanished right after we left. No doubt it was very exciting?”
His enthusiasm was encouraging. I don’t see that much happiness around me. “Yeah I had quite the experience in there. Shame you missed it. So what have you been up to since then?”
He invited me inside, and we talked. He hadn’t slowed down since the Egypt dig, and seemed to have been spending most of the decades since I saw him uncovering ancient eldritch ruins and artifacts. I asked him about the orb, and he said it was found in an abandoned monastery in Bhutan. The expedition nearly fell apart due to workers having mysterious bouts of amnesia. “Some people would disappear for weeks, only for us to find them without any memory of who they were or why they were there. Things got really crazy once we found the orb; we even had to fight our way past spiders made of bone once!”
It sounded like an amazing trip. Wish I had been there for it.
As our conversation extended into the afternoon, a boy entered the home. “Grandpa, I’m back!” He said.
“Peter! There’s someone here you’ll probably want meet. Remember that story I told you about the adventurer called I-330?”
Wait, Peter? His grandson? Crap, think of something to say to the elementary school kid other than “I had wild hot sex with you two decades from now.” This whole night was throwing me off….
His eyes got wide when he heard my name. “You’re really her?” He said.
“I had wild-I mean, yes. I am indeed her.”
“Wow….” He looked so excited. I couldn’t help but entertain him with tales of my adventures. Mostly the ones from earlier in my life. Back before the bodies started stacking up around me.
One should never underestimate how demanding children can be. It was night by the time Richard pulled Peter away and said, “That’s enough for now. Time to go to bed.”
After Peter was asleep, I made the request I’d come for. “So, about that glowing orb you found… I kinda need it. For stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Oh, you know. Rescuing damsels in distress.” And ripping spacetime to pieces in the process. Didn’t say that last bit out loud.
He chuckled. “That sounds interesting. The orb is being kept in the Arkham Museum right now. I have a key to the building, and the security there knows me, so there shouldn’t be any issues with walking in and taking it. It’s not as if they’re putting it on display; they’re just keeping it in some back room storage.”
That sounded easy and simple. I like easy and simple. I don’t get enough easy and simple. But I’ve been through this enough times to know that easy and simple is something which just doesn’t happen to me.
The campus was abandoned that late at night. Even with the soothing fooling of the chaos emanating from the Necronomicon maintaining the old god’s influence over the area, I was still on edge. Perhaps more so than usual; the seeming ease of this task was making me paranoid.
Once we left campus, back into the relatively cold and clinical atmosphere of the Fear’s universe, I became even jumpier. The darkened buildings looked like black monoliths casting inky shadows which could hide all manner of dangerous secrets in them….
We made it to the Museum, and Richard opened one of the back doors. So far, no problem. Walked down the hallways for a bit, past several of the museum’s offices. “The orb’s usually kept back in the storage rooms.” Richard said. “When we had it at the university, people were constantly researching it and trying to figure out its origin, but when we gave it to the museum, they put it in a box and never so much as talk about it. I’ve spoken with the curators many times, but they’re insistent on never touching it. Such a waste.”
The room we went to was in an out of the way corner of the building. There wasn’t much in there; a few dusty crates that looked like they’d been forgotten back here, plus a small crate emanating a glow from inside. Three guesses what was in it.
The ease of this task was probably setting some kind of personal record. ‘Course it didn’t last, but for a brief, wonderful moment, I actually started to think that maybe I could grab the orb and walk out without having to deal with anything trying to stop me.
Someone stepped out of the shadows of the room. On the outside, it looked like a security guard. But the way time bent away from the man’s body was as if it was reacting to the presence of a Fear. It opened its mouth, and an emotionless voice came out. “We have been expecting you, I-330.”
“Who’s this?” Richard asked. “I don’t recognize him from the security staff….”
“I’m guessing the Epping AquaTarkus.” I answered, and the being nodded in agreement. “Or EAT. A creature made of liquid that can take control of anyone who ingests it.” Then, to EAT, “What do you want? ‘Cause whatever understanding we had was kinda broken back when you and the Archangel attacked me out of nowhere back in Louisiana.”
The body’s face didn’t register any hint of reaction. “The alliance between us was one of mutual benefit. So long as we worked against a common foe, it was in our best interest to assist you. Now that your current goals conflict with ours, we are forced to stop you.”
Had a gun drawn and aimed at its face in an instant. “I’d like to see you try.”
EAT didn’t move. It didn’t need to. Before I could shoot, the fire alarm went off and the sprinklers on the ceiling turned on. And by the way the timelines were reacting, every drop of water that fell from those sprinklers contained EAT.
I fired, but with the timelines freaking out and bending away from every droplet of EAT, my aim went wild.
“You know your stupid water stuff doesn’t work on me!” I shouted over the shrill of the alarms.
“Of course.” It replied. “But I do not need to possess you with my Ink. I merely need to prevent you from reaching your objective.”
I tried running forward, but the puddles of water at my feet whipped up and tripped me. Tried warping to the orb, but the timelines were so distorted that following any of them and landing where I wanted to inside the room was impossible. The alarm was only a mild inconvenience compared to the sensory confusion caused by time’s distortion. Imagine trying to focus while having bright neon lights flashing right in your eyes while hundreds of people scream in your ears and your skin alternates between burning hot and freezing cold, and then you may be able to picture a fraction of what it felt like I was going through there. I was soaked in EAT, and more of it was constantly falling around me, making me practically blind and unable to do anything.
“You cannot succeed here.” It wasn’t gloating. It was stating fact. “I would advise you to leave and abandon your mission.”
I responded by trying to shoot it again. Missed, but it got the message.
“Your refusal to surrender is an admirable trait, but you continuously take it to absurd lengths. There is no action you can take to succeed.”
“Oh, I dunno ‘bout that.” Someone behind EAT said. “I could travel to earlier today, before you’ve had your chance to set up here, hide in one of these crates, and then just stroll over and grab the orb while you’re distracted by the me from several hours ago.”
There I was, standing next to a now open crate, with the orb in hand and a victorious smile on my face.
Even then, EAT didn’t show a reaction. “Yes, you could do that. It would appear I have underestimated the speed which you have adapted to non-linear thinking.” It glanced over at the current me. “Or I have underestimated your willingness to risk paradox by explaining your future plans to your past self.”
Paradox or not, that sounded like a solid plan to me. Made a random jump to a different part of spacetime, and went ahead putting my ingenious idea into action. We’ll fast forward to the part where I had gotten the orb.
I expected EAT to fight back. Instead, once the earlier version of me vanished to enact the plan, the alarm was silenced and the sprinklers stopped. “Further conflict here would be pointless. I will concede here.” It began to walk away.
“What? That’s it? I won?” Ha! Take that, Fear!
“Yes. This is your victory. Though a pyrrhic victory.”
“What do you mean by that?”
EAT gestured at a prone body lying on the ground, and suddenly I remembered that Richard had been with me. I ran over to him as fast I could. “Richard, are you okay?”
He coughed up a lot of water, and then looked at me with a blank expression. “Richard. Are. You. Oh. Kay.” Was his emotionless reply.
“He swallowed a significant amount of my Ink.” EAT said. “By the end of this month, he will become part of us.”
Leveled my gun right at EAT’s head and pulled the trigger. No attempt to resist on its part. It collapsed, water leaking from the hole. Just a pointless expression of anger. One which didn’t really help at all in making me feel better.
Dammit.
That’s two orbs. Three to go.
I-330
Thursday, October 11, 2012
August 11, 1986 - Paris, France
238
You’d think, as a time traveler, I’d get the opportunity to rest every once in a while. All I’d need to do is drop in a nice, peaceful year, and relax. Just me and the bed, without any outside interference.
Why is it that things never happen as peacefully as I want them to?
I’d been staying at this one apartment for a while. It was a nice place. Very fancy. Those stocks I bought a few decades back were working out wonderfully when it came to covering investments; it does so help to have hindsight already with you when you’re making the trades.
I might have stayed there too long. The joys of luxury were simply too alluring for me to want to leave. So I stayed where I was, enjoying the simple pleasures, letting my mind be taken off… recent events.
Until the window of my suite was smashed open by dozens of strings which proceeded to tear the room apart.
At least it proved my reaction speed’s still good, as I was able to dive off the bed and find cover before the strings could grab me. As I hid behind the pieces of what had been a couch, a coquettish voice drifted through the shattered window. “I fooooound you, Time Girl!”
Carried by its strings, the Wooden Girl floated through the window, landing in the center of the room. It twirled around in its red dress, giggling as more strings lashed out from it and knocked aside my cover. I dived behind a chair, but that was tossed aside as well. Tried making a break for the door, but had to dodge out of the way of more strings, and dove behind more cover.
“Oh no, you’re not leaving yet!” The girl said, walking toward me. “Not after I worked so hard to find you. I’ve been looking for you ever since you punched my head off, but you’re a very difficult person to track down. It’s almost like you’re trying to avoid me!” Strings rose from the ground at my feet, and I barely jumped aside before they could grab me. “It’s a good thing I found a friend to help me out!”
The temperature plummeted. Ice formed on the floor, and then rose from the ground in the shape of the Cold Boy. The Girl draped a wooden arm over the Boy’s neck.
“Blue Boy’s been so very helpful. He has a knack at finding people who feel lonely. Which means you were like a beacon to him!”
I felt cold frost spreading across my clothes. The Girl lightly slapped the Cold Boy’s hands. “Ah ah ah, patience! Once I’ve had my fun with her, then you can kill her!”
I was running out of cover to hide behind. Trying to grab timelines with one Fear nearby is hard enough, but with two….
A bullet from outside smashed through the Cold Boy’s head, shattering it. Another bullet followed, going through the Wooden Girl’s head. Neither were really harmed, but the distraction gave me the chance to sprint past them and jump out the window.
It was quote a drop from that window. And the ground was coming up really fast. I kept reaching for timelines, but was still too close to the Fears. 4th floor went by… 3rd floor… shit shit shit the ground was getting really close….
Only a few feet away from splatting all over the ground, I gained enough distance from the Fears to teleport out of there. Phew. So what have we learned today? No matter how comfortable it may be, don’t stay in one place too long, or you’ll get found. Looks like I’m going to be getting even more nomadic than I used to be. During those rare times when I do need to sleep, I’m going to be doing so in a different location each time. Maybe even set up a few safehouses for me to resupply at when needed.
But first, I’m going to get a rifle and shoot the Wooden Girl and Cold Boy in the face.
I-330
You’d think, as a time traveler, I’d get the opportunity to rest every once in a while. All I’d need to do is drop in a nice, peaceful year, and relax. Just me and the bed, without any outside interference.
Why is it that things never happen as peacefully as I want them to?
I’d been staying at this one apartment for a while. It was a nice place. Very fancy. Those stocks I bought a few decades back were working out wonderfully when it came to covering investments; it does so help to have hindsight already with you when you’re making the trades.
I might have stayed there too long. The joys of luxury were simply too alluring for me to want to leave. So I stayed where I was, enjoying the simple pleasures, letting my mind be taken off… recent events.
Until the window of my suite was smashed open by dozens of strings which proceeded to tear the room apart.
At least it proved my reaction speed’s still good, as I was able to dive off the bed and find cover before the strings could grab me. As I hid behind the pieces of what had been a couch, a coquettish voice drifted through the shattered window. “I fooooound you, Time Girl!”
Carried by its strings, the Wooden Girl floated through the window, landing in the center of the room. It twirled around in its red dress, giggling as more strings lashed out from it and knocked aside my cover. I dived behind a chair, but that was tossed aside as well. Tried making a break for the door, but had to dodge out of the way of more strings, and dove behind more cover.
“Oh no, you’re not leaving yet!” The girl said, walking toward me. “Not after I worked so hard to find you. I’ve been looking for you ever since you punched my head off, but you’re a very difficult person to track down. It’s almost like you’re trying to avoid me!” Strings rose from the ground at my feet, and I barely jumped aside before they could grab me. “It’s a good thing I found a friend to help me out!”
The temperature plummeted. Ice formed on the floor, and then rose from the ground in the shape of the Cold Boy. The Girl draped a wooden arm over the Boy’s neck.
“Blue Boy’s been so very helpful. He has a knack at finding people who feel lonely. Which means you were like a beacon to him!”
I felt cold frost spreading across my clothes. The Girl lightly slapped the Cold Boy’s hands. “Ah ah ah, patience! Once I’ve had my fun with her, then you can kill her!”
I was running out of cover to hide behind. Trying to grab timelines with one Fear nearby is hard enough, but with two….
A bullet from outside smashed through the Cold Boy’s head, shattering it. Another bullet followed, going through the Wooden Girl’s head. Neither were really harmed, but the distraction gave me the chance to sprint past them and jump out the window.
It was quote a drop from that window. And the ground was coming up really fast. I kept reaching for timelines, but was still too close to the Fears. 4th floor went by… 3rd floor… shit shit shit the ground was getting really close….
Only a few feet away from splatting all over the ground, I gained enough distance from the Fears to teleport out of there. Phew. So what have we learned today? No matter how comfortable it may be, don’t stay in one place too long, or you’ll get found. Looks like I’m going to be getting even more nomadic than I used to be. During those rare times when I do need to sleep, I’m going to be doing so in a different location each time. Maybe even set up a few safehouses for me to resupply at when needed.
But first, I’m going to get a rifle and shoot the Wooden Girl and Cold Boy in the face.
I-330
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
My Reflection, Dance the Ghost With Me
Tut, tut, Darling. Neglecting your
scribal duties yet again? Do you not think that you owe it to our enthralled
audience a narrative description of our meeting? Or are you simply too weak to
confront the reality, and hope to find escape in denial? It is a pity that you
are still human enough to have such a failing.
But I am free of your emotional baggage,
and may freely transcribe the contents of our encounter.
You were brought to my hall, still
confronting the confusion from your conversation with the Dreamer Virginia.
“Hello, Sweetheart.” I said to you.
Suspicion was in your eyes. “What do you
want?”
“Can’t I just want to see you again? I
had heard you were in town, and couldn’t resist inviting you before you left.”
“Grendel… what exactly are you trying to
do? Are the Fears really so bad that these people are willing to treat your
revolution like some kind of redemption from evil?”
Oh dear. It seemed like you had been
listening too much to the human rhetoric. That would need to be rectified. “That
is how they see it, yes. It is a useful point of view. And partially true. The
chief difference between our old gods and the Fears is that the Fears have
taken a personal interest in humanity, as opposed to the detachment of our gods.
It is a choice between the possibility of destruction by the hands of ignorant
deities, or surviving under the jackboots of malevolent ones. And humans are
incredibly short sighted creatures. They only see the current threat. After
learning the truth of their oppression, they become completely willing to join
the first being who offers them a chance to strike back against their foes.”
“So what, you’re just using them?”
“Of course. But they have been most
helpful, and shall all be rewarded as such. Come the revolution, their deaths
shall be instant and painless.”
“What?”
“Don’t act so surprised. Darling, what
do you think happens when two pantheons clash for control of the multiverse? It
would be miraculous if there are any universes left when the fighting has
ceased.”
“You’re… you’re going to… destroy the
universe?”
“It can be rebuilt. As it was after the
Fears’ destroyed it in their revolution. But this time, rebuilt as it was
originally was, ruled by those who deserve to control it.”
That brought a smile to your face. You
enjoy it when things are black and white, don’t you? “Ah. And I was starting to
doubt whether or not you were as demented as I thought. But then why even
bother with the cult in the first place?”
“The Dreamlands are the realm of human
subconscious. I need active Dreamers within it, or the Fears gain complete
control, and will likely destroy it. And I certainly cannot allow such
destruction. You see, the barriers between realms of spacetime are much weaker
in a place like this. Which greatly simplifies the task of drawing the outer
gods from the emptiness where they were banished to after their defeat. And
then, all that needs be done is to tear open a hole between the Dreamlands and
the physical universe, and the Revolution may begin in earnest.”
“Huh. Well thanks for explaining your
plan to me like that. I’ll go and get right onto thwarting it, if you don’t
mind.”
“You intend to leave already, Darling?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Stop calling you what?”
“Those pet names. It’s really fucking
creepy. Stop it.”
“But how else can I show you my
affection?”
“Affection?” You started laughing. It
was quite hurtful, really. Do my emotions means so little to you?
“Indeed. Because I do love you.” Four
words, all it took to completely catch you off guard “Do you recall our first
meeting? I saw you in that brawl in Samuel’s bar, fighting off several men at
once without any help. You were unlike any woman I had ever met.” The look in
your eyes, I could tell you too were drifting into memories. You remember more
of your past life than you like to admit. “And every moment with you after that
was like a perpetual heaven. The adventures we had! Were it not for the
interference of the Slender Man, it could have gone on forever. But then you
were taken from me. The beast tore you to pieces before my eye. Unforgivable.
It will pay for that. I will ensure that it suffers a thousand times what it
put you through. But Father gave us a second life. So that we may again be together.”
You were hesitating. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
You’re still slow. I had covered the
distance between us and had my hand around your throat before you managed to
finish blinking. “I
love you so much.”
My hand crushed your throat, choking the
air out of you. And you’re so light. Lifting you up with that one hand was an
effortless exercise. “I can feel Father’s will driving me forward, commanding
me to claim you! I can barely contain how much I want you! I want to devour
you, make you one with me, tearing you apart and consuming you bit by bit until
I have licked up every stray drop of blood which fell from you!”
You were fighting back. Hitting me as
you could, squirming to break free, even shooting me. All useless, of course.
“You’re so beautiful when you fight. When you strive desperately for life.” I
placed a hand on your face, and you froze. Then I let the hand roam free. “I
want to take you in every way possible, I want to break you, I want to see you
at the peak of your struggle and then crush that hope until you have become
absolutely mine!”
Seeing the terror in your eyes was
euphoric. You were remembering the first time you met me, in that alley. And
that night with your father. If I had allowed you enough air to speak, you
would have begged, pleaded for this not to happen again. But you should know
that I do not listen to pleas.
Tears were running down your cheek. I
licked one off, tasting your skin, that wonderful, intoxicating taste. I whispered
into your ear, “I could do it. You would be powerless to stop me. I will make
you mine. And then I will tear you to pieces.”
I threw you onto the ground. “I can feel
Father’s commands screaming through my mind, telling me to consume you now. But
not yet. Business before pleasure, after all. I care for you too much to kill
you here, before events have run their course. There is still much I need to
do. Once Father has returned to this world, we shall all be reunited in him.
You and I shall be one at last. But not until then.”
You didn’t move from that spot on the
floor. Were you even aware of your surroundings anymore? I let the Virginia
girl escort you out. Such a good girl. It is rare to see a progeny like her
amongst Dreamers these days. She’ll ensure you don’t die before I’m ready for
you.
I look forward to our next meeting,
Darling.
Sincerely,
Grendel
Monday, October 8, 2012
October 8, 2012 - Far too many bars to count
185
The
worst thing about this new body is its remarkable resistance to getting drunk. I’ve
hit enough bars to kill a Russian bear. And all that I’m feeling is a very
slight tingling. My mind’s still working. Which means my memory’s still
working. Damn.
I
want to skip this. Maybe just say, “Turns out, Grendel really IS a psychotic
genocidal bastard! Who would have guessed it?” I’ve been (mostly) true with
recording events so far. But I don’t want to have to relive that. I don’t want
to ever think about it.
So
I think I won’t. Grendel’s crazy. Crazy enough to tell me what he’s planning.
He’s trying to open permanent physical gates between the Dreamlands and the
real world. And I’m going to stop him. Hopefully in a very violent way.
And
that’s all you need to know.
I-330
October 8, 2012 - The Dreamlands
184
Virginia
is… an interesting girl. Not what I expected from someone who’s so young.
Teleported
inside her room at 9, because using doors takes effort. She didn’t notice me at
first. Watched her run to the window, look out, run to a mirror and brush her hair,
back to the window, straightened a picture on the wall, back to the window,
grabbed stray clothes off the floor and tossed them into the closet, back to
the window….
“Ahem.”
She jumped. Not as much as I’d hoped. But it was satisfying nonetheless.
“Alright
Virginia, what is it you wanted to say to me?”
She
didn’t answer. Sat down at the edge of her bed and stared at me. I was
surprised by how intense that stare was.
“You’re
clumsier than I thought you’d be.”
“What?”
“You
practically tripped over yourself when my dad threw you out. And then you did
trip after flailing around when I threw a marble at you.” Um… okay I may have
skimmed over some details about that in my last post…. “That’s not the type of
behavior I expected from someone who some of the people in the Order described
as ‘Dancing Death.’ At least Grendel isn’t lying when he says you’re pretty.”
….
What. What was going on, why was it feeling like I’d already lost complete
control of this conversation after just a few sentences. Had think of something
to say fast.
“How
do you know about Grendel?”
She
arched an eyebrow. “Everyone who goes into the Dreamlands knows who Grendel is.
He’s the reason the Dreamlands are still around.”
“What
do you mean by that?”
She
cocked her head to the side. “How much do you know about the Dreamlands?”
“Well
I read Randolph Carter’s journal, and I went there once in ’86….”
She
laughed. “Wow. Wow. You realize
that’s over 2,500 years in the Dreamlands, right?”
….
Wow. No, I hadn’t. I remembered Dan telling me that an hour in the real world
was a week in the Dreamlands, but I’d never thought to do the math….
My
shock was fairly apparent. “Things have changed a bit since you last visited,”
Virginia said.
“…
Alright, that’s just going to add to the long list of questions I was planning
to ask you. But first, I’d like to get into the Dreamlands, so I can actually
see what’s being talked about. I need you to enter it first; if you go in, I
can follow.”
“So
just like Grendel then?”
“Yes
just like-wait how do you know-”
Her
smile cut me off. It was far too clever than any child’s smile had right to be.
“Let me see if I understand you. You want me, a poor defenseless little girl,
to go to sleep while being watched by a complete stranger?”
“Yes.”
“Alright.
Try anything and I’ll break both your kneecaps.” Then, without any
consideration to comfort, she fell across her bed. The speed at which she fell
asleep caught me off guard; I almost missed the timelines shifting into the
Dreamlands. Tossed myself into them before they could change back, and suddenly
I was in the Enchanted Wood. It looked… mostly the same. Same ash covered
ground, same charred black trees. Except now the trees had grown leaves, each
as black as their bark. And rising above all the other trees was a single,
immense tree that stretched past the clouds….
“We
should get out of here. This isn’t a safe place to stay.” Some strange woman
was talking to me oh wait shit was that Virginia?
I
know people look different in the Dreamlands, but this was… I mean… she…
She’s
underage in the real world she’s underage in the real world she’s underage in
the real world she’s underage in the real world she’s underage in the real
world she’s underage in the real world….
“Are
you going to stare at me like that this entire time?”
“…
Yes.”
“Fine.
Just walk while you do. We need to get to the town of Ulthar as soon as
possible. I don’t like getting caught out in the open.”
“What
about Dylath-Leen?”
“Dylath-Leen
is gone. The inhabitants were flayed alive by the Wooden Girl and then slowly
murdered by the Plague Doctor. Hlanith, Ilarnek, Ooth-Nargai, Iganok, are all
gone as well. Every city except Ulthar is gone. Now start walking; the trees
are listening.”
She
didn’t talk until we were out of the woods, and into an open field. “Alright.
From here it should only take a few hours to reach Ulthar.”
“Just
a few hours of walking? Is it really that close?”
She
had that smile again. “Who said anything about walking?” The ground rose up
behind her, and shaped itself into a wheeled platform with two seats on it.
“Skilled Dreamers can manipulate their surroundings here. And I just happen to
be a very skilled Dreamer. Get in. We
can talk while we ride.”
Well
I didn’t see that coming. With some uncertainty, I got into one of the seats.
And then the platform began to move forward; not extremely fast, but much
faster than we’d be going on foot. “Now what are those questions you wanted to
ask?”
“Most
importantly? What the hell Grendel and the Esoteric Order of Dagon are doing
here. I’ve been trying to figure out what Grendel’s up to for a long time now,
and all I’ve been able to get is that he’s got some kind of plan involving
summoning gods and I’m still not entirely sure how that connects with all of
this.”
“I don’t know anything about summoning, but their goal here
is just to keep the Fears from completely destroying the place.”
“How
strong is their presence?”
“Let
me put it like this. There are less than 300 humans left in the Dreamlands.
Only a dozen of us aren’t members of the Order. These days, unless you’re a
strong enough Dreamer to hold your own, you either join the Order or die.”
“Has
it really gotten that bad?”
“It’s
always been bad. The only difference is now the Fears are running out of people
to kill here.”
“What
about Grendel? You talked like you know him.”
“Kind
of. I’ve talked with him occasionally, whenever I’ve had to work with the
Order. Creepy guy. Likes to talk too much. But he’s the only person capable of
holding the Fears back.”
The
landscape of the Dreamlands seemed even more colorless than my previous visit.
The grass had only the slightest tinge of green in it, and the sky was almost
completely grey. And no matter where we traveled, I could always hear the faint
sound of carnival music.
“So
what is it that you’ve heard about me from the Order?” I asked.
“A
lot of stuff. Most of it rumor. Something about you being Grendel’s sister, or
girlfriend, or both….”
“No.
I am neither of those things.”
“Really?
Well, forget those rumors then. I do know that you’re a time traveler like him.
And from what everyone says, you seem to run around trying to be a hero, which
has put you in conflict with the Order on occasion. I hear a lot about what
they call the ‘Battle of the Jersey Dockyard’ from ’96. The survivors from it
treat you like a legend.”
“…
Yeah that hasn’t happened to me yet.”
“Then
you can ask the survivors for tips for when it does happen.”
Ulthar
was coming up. The town looked like a fortress. Tall walls surrounded by
trenches and barbed wire, with gun emplacements and artillery pieces. Not sure
what they thought that was going to do against the Fears, but it looked
impressive.
Hanging
on either side of the town’s fortified gate were two read banners, each emblazoned
with a five pointed star containing a burning eye in the center. Guarding the
gate were several men in military camo, wearing red armbands with the same star
symbol.
“Hey
Virginia!” One called to us. “What brings you here tonight?”
“Found
a new friend. Her name’s I-330. Perhaps you’ve heard of her?”
“Seriously?
No way! The boss will want to hear this!”
“Yeah
well too bad tell him I saw her first! Now open up the gate!”
They
did so, and we got out of our chairs and walked inside. The town looked as
military as its defenses implied. Every building had a purpose, and was built
to withstand attack. The few people I saw out were all armed, and looked
constantly on guard. Saw a few night gaunts flying around, some ghouls, and
several other creatures I’d never seen before, all walking the streets. It
looked like how I would have imagined a city under siege.
“Now
that we’re inside, what are you going to do?” Virginia asked.
“I…
um… don’t know. I thought I was going to find some kind of evil plot going on
here, but I’m not seeing any of that…. Maybe if I investigate….”
Virginia
called to a soldier walking by. “Hey Mike, what is it you people are doing in
this town again?”
“What?
Come on, Virginia, you already know that.” He answered. “Grendel says we need
to keep a foothold in the Dreamlands, or the whole place will fall to the Fears
and they’ll tear it all apart.”
“Anything
else? Any secondary objectives or missions here?”
“Not
that I know of. You’d have to ask the boss.”
Virginia
turned back to me. “Ta-da. Investigating, check. Now what?”
“We…
um…”
“You’re
starting to make me think you came here without a clear goal or plan in mind.”
“Of
course I’ve got those! I’m here to… I have to….”
“Why
are you so determined to stop Grendel?”
“He’s
trying to summon ancient godlike monsters so he can lead them in revolution
against the Fears and seize control of the world!”
“And
is that really a bad thing?”
For
a moment, I was speechless. “Of course it’s a bad thing! They’re monsters!”
“And
the Fears aren’t?” He voice sounded so… old. Old and tired. “Have you seen it
when they take an interest in someone? When they slowly break a person’s will,
turning their lives into an unending hell? Have you watched people lying on the
streets, covered in dozens of blisters and rashes from all the diseases the
Plague Doctor has given them, unable to even moan in pain? Or a woman shredded
into thin strips by the Smiling Man? I don’t know about these ancient monsters
of yours. And Grendel’s too much of a nut for me to trust him or his plans. But
after spending centuries in the Dreamlands, watching them massacre town after
town just for their amusement, letting some other monsters take care of the
Fears sounds like a nice idea to me.”
I
had no answer to that. Why was I so
determined to stop Grendel? Yes, he’s an insane murdering psychopath. But I
can’t say the Fears are much better. Should I focus on them instead? But I know
what I read about the old gods; they were creatures which would have destroyed
the planet out of sheer apathy. Are they
any better?
I
was going to get my answer soon. As I stood there, silent, a blank faced man
approached and, in complete monotone, told me that Grendel was waiting for me
in his hall.
But
I’m not saying a word about what happened there until I have had several drinks
in me.
I-330
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