Tread Lightly – Among Monsters And Men

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Wyatt Graves

 

I awake to someone slapping my face, the pain a stinging reminder I am still kicking. I don’t have to open my eyelids like most people, however, as they have melted away already from the Ether rampaging uncontrolled within my body.

But the rampage isn't as bad as just a few minutes ago. I can immediately feel a difference now compared to before I evolved my Sigil. Before I couldn’t even feel the pain of my body dissolving, that was just how far gone I was from the Edge. But now, I can actually sense the fiery pain that encompasses my whole body, the evolution into a Struggler pulling me a bit closer to the Edge from the abyss. It feels like me getting pulled and more like the goalpost moving closer to me, however.

The second thing that I notice is a face that stares down at me with tears in his eyes. It is Earl, the man is screaming at me, but my ears no longer work so I cannot hear him. I try to speak to him, but I cannot tell if anything even comes from my voice. The pain is so overwhelming I cannot focus on much. I think I prefer the numbness.

While I lay here for a few moments, I feel several harsh vibrations beneath me, originating from the center of the square. This makes me look in the direction that the vibrations come from and what I see surprises me greatly.

No longer are there two merely sides fighting, now there are three. A team of six versus a team of two versus a lone man. The group of six are being led by a 6th Sigil who is speeding around with incredible swiftness shifting the sands with every step, unable to be locked down or hurt as he deals gradual damage and wears out his enemy.

The duo consists of Primrose and Johnny, fighting almost back to back against the full team of six and the solo. The two are heavily wounded yet fight as if they have never even been hurt a single time. They move back and forth, covering each other as if they have fought hundreds of times together. It is a level of coordination I could only dream of.

The lone man is a familiar face, or I should say a familiar silhouette as at this point, Virgil never shows his face during the day. The Darkstalker uses his unique abilities to Flicker in and out of combat, disappearing and reappearing from the gaze of every to land a deadly strike here or there. I notice him go after Johnny a few times, but he is quickly repelled, the Gunfighter's instincts too strong even for the Darkstalker's stealth.

In just the single minute I spend watching, mesmerized by the battle before me, I see him trade blows with Primrose before landing a Necrosis-covered strike on two of the Hunters who I don’t know, and Rebecca. His stealth makes him uniquely suited for killing other people, something I don’t think I’ve ever noticed.

So far, he’s even better at dropping the Hunters than Johnny is, but I guess Johnny has been dealing with Frederick, the Hunter’s 6th Sigiled, the whole time. I just don’t understand why he’s also attacking Primrose and Johnny. Did they do something to him? I don’t know, but if they did, I’m going to be so torn. I push these thoughts to the side as I zone out and watch the battle with Earl yelling beside me, ears full of cotton and constantly ringing as if a gunshot went off beside me.

After some time of watching the fight, I look back at my body as a sense of urgency fills me. I watch as Johnny, Primrose, and Virgil begin to slow in their attacks, the numerical advantage simply overpowering.

I can see my body breaking down and melting into a pile of flesh, but it’s much slower than before. I don’t know what I can do to fix it, though. I had figured advancing my Sigil would fix the problem, but no, it only reduced the severity. I guess I truly went far, far, beyond the limit of a 2nd Sigil.

I can’t use Ether to fix the problem because that’s what started it. Virgil’s here fighting, but Vernon is nowhere to be seen, so I assume that the younger brother is still looking for a Concoction to buy or steal.

Earl is beside me, and he obviously has no idea what to do either as he’s just frantic, and unintelligible. I can’t imagine he’ll be much help, especially considering he is also wounded, just not as bad as me. He has a bullet wound in his shoulder and a massive bruise on his collarbone. I imagine those came from the Hunters.

There is only one thing I can think of if I cannot use Ether. Virgil has told me many times that the human spirit is capable of incredible things, and I agree, after all, I used it as an answer to a question from The Cabin. But The Cabin, in turn, gave my very will the weight of Ether behind every action.

Now, what that means exactly, I’m unsure, but I figure it means that my will is capable of affecting the world. That was another part of the explanation of my new Sigil as well, but I figure that would require Ether to do it, but maybe not. If my will is made of Ether or powered by Ether, why must I consume the substance to bend the world with my will?

Without any other possible avenue of survival, I focus my mind on my body. The withered, melting, flesh-rotting, thing that is still me. The only part that remains unchanged is the Bloody Palm, the hand outwardly unphased by my condition despite the odd noises that come from it. There is one other thing that I notice as well after my advancement, which is that the murmurs from the Bloody Palm are incredibly quiet despite me not using Daydream.

The whispers aren’t completely gone, but their shallowness is a good sign. I use this good sign as further motivation while I push my “will weighted by Ether” onto my body, trying to force it to stay in one piece. I’m unsure how to get the new ability to work, or is it a skill? I don’t know. Something as passive as this must exist in some other Sigils. I’ll have to figure it out somehow if I survive. No, when I survive.

My dubious intent with the skill is quickly brushed away as I feel fast improvement in my falling apart body, pieces of skin and flesh holding onto my body instead of just rapidly falling off. After about a minute of intense focus, I feel better. Not good, but my body is no longer collapsing before my very eyes, the rate decreasing to a speed more similar to my first time going beyond the Edge. The pain also decreases greatly, from a debilitating paralysis to a whole-body throb.

While I do this, I feel the Bloody Palm’s Ether once more. The artifact’s core beats like a faux heart and sends dark, but rejuvenating Ether into my body, reconnecting the broken tissues and missing tendons.

Then, the pieces of myself like skin, flesh, and muscle that were just barely hanging on begin to reconnect as I push even more of my will into keeping me whole. That while my will pushes my body together, the Bloody Palm reconnects the lost parts. As I do, so though, I feel the world’s contortion.

It is similar to when Mother Below puts her bet against you, but without the knee-buckling pressure. I can just feel every part of me being twisted, pulled, and crushed just a little bit. It feels like the acts that I perform with my will are rebounded to my body. Like every action I take has a reaction. That in order to reinforce my body, I am putting permanent strain on it. Any damage is worth living, however.

The final piece of me that moves with the aid of the Bloody Palm is my heart, the organ beating rapidly, sending blood and energy all throughout my body.

After another minute of this, I feel confident enough to move, and so I do. Glancing at Earl who is looking at me filled with confusion, I roll over onto my stomach. Then, I push my arms beneath me. One arm that is missing all the skin and most of the flesh while the other is only bones and tendons. Even I can comprehend just how unnatural this all is. I almost gag just at the sight of what I am, but I cannot. The internal parts of me that can gag are not yet repaired.

No man should still be alive if they were in my place, but I’m no normal man and neither is the thing that is attached to me. We both strive for survival with our whole beings, and as such, the world bends to our will.

Slowly, shakily, and dripping bits of flesh that weren’t reconnected properly via the Bloody Palm, I stand. Then I look at the battle that is occurring nearby, by this time multiple people have already dropped.

Three of the Hunters have either been killed or knocked down for the count, two by Johnny and one by Virgil. It is hard to tell who has died and who hasn’t. I’m not one to assume. But I do see that Rebecca is unmoving on the dirt surrounded by a pool of blood.

Primrose is speared onto one a bulletin board nearby, the news on it stained by her blood. She was put onto it by Frederick, the man pulling out a javelin and skewering her in a trade for two of his companions as his distraction cost their lives. From here, I cannot tell if the poisonous woman is alive or not. Not sure which I prefer to be honest, but I do notice that her skirt is torn and the things within are scattered all over the floor. I do not see the detonator that she should have... A short burst of worry goes through me, but I don't have time to focus on a detonator that might just be under her or in the dirt. Threats yet remain.

Only five total people in the entire town square remain standing, six if you count me.

Frederick and two of his Hunters take a short pause from fighting to look at me as I shamble, all their faces contorting and eyebrows rising at the sight of me. The three of them range from moderately to severely wounded.

Johnny moves with a cane of broken wood in one hand and a gun in the other. He stands opposite Frederick and his squad, only glancing at me briefly with a snort. The veteran is covered in wounds from head to toe and bleeding non-stop, but as they always say, never underestimate an old man in a game of bravery.

I only catch a short glimpse of Virgil, the man disappearing and reappearing at random intervals, but when I see him this time, I see a badly injured man. Bloody holes are all over his outfit that protect him from the sun, and because of that, burns are etched all over his skin where they meet the open air. Virgil spends the longest amount of time looking at me despite the short period in which I spot him. We lock eyes and I nod at him.

After this short glimpse of Virgil, I start walking toward the group of three Hunters, and I see one of them step back as I shamble toward them. Frederick, the man with inhuman speed shakes his head and points at me before turning back to Johnny.

I hear the man with auburn hair and streaks of white that oddly matches his insane swiftness and speed at the gunslinger. His words inspire anger in me.

“So, this is how it’s gonna be? Yur’ teaming up with Hollows? I mean look at him, Johnny. The poor kid looks like a zombie. Is that really a way to fix the world? I’m sure if you surrender, even at this point, they will take you back.”

From his words, I start moving in his direction faster, shuffling my feet faster and faster as the muscles on me heal. But before I can even get close, Johnny speaks up with a cough that ends with a wipe across his mouth and a palm covered in blood.

“He’s not a hollow, just a tough kid. He’ll make it through this, I'm confident of that. More confident than I am in even my own survival today. But yes, even if I had to ally with Hollows I would. The Prime and the rot that festers is a dozen times worse than any Hollow. How about you join me, Frederick? I know you don’t want to lead this team half psychos and half estate children.”

The conversation between the two takes a turn as the whole area stops fighting for the first time to listen, even Virgil doesn’t strike and instead lets the two speak as he steps back with great heaves of air. I take the time to heal a little bit and learn how my new ability works from my Sigil. I’m unsure what to name it yet, or if it even needs one as it’s just my will.

But without knowing what it truly does, I use it to increase my heart rate, the Ether-infused will seems to grant me delicate control over my body. This delicate and precise control that it gives me over my body makes me think that maybe that’s where my Sigil is evolving toward.

It started with a small increase in physical precision as well as the ability to see my target, the target being my chains. The second Sigil gave me the ability to sacrifice parts of myself in favor of others, allowing me to be precise in what part of me is acting at its peak and what is not. The third gave me a will that can affect me greatly, allowing me to bolster, manipulate, or control parts of my body that should normally not be possible. It's different from Daydream as that skill has a negative as well, this one doesn't seem to at all. I can only assume that they work in conjunction as well.

I’m unsure where the Absolution fits in with it all, however, but my thought process that seeks to figure it out is interrupted by frustrated words from Frederick that attempt to convince Johnny to join him once more.

“You know I can’t join you, Johnny. Too many things tie me down. Family, friends, and laws. I leave, and everything I care for shatters. Not everyone is like you, willing to lose it all. Johnny. Stop this farce. Please. We need everyone right now, the Borderlands are simmering. War is coming, not just this single break, but more. The Chiksika saw what was to come in the future. Your little rebellion will only hurt humanity more. I can plead for you to only be minorly punished. A year or so at the frontlines. I have a supporter who will guarantee it.”

The Gunfighter shakes his head as he slowly loads platinum-looking rounds into his revolver. His long and detailed response visibly shakes both me and Frederick who literally takes a step back from the silver-haired gunslinger by the end of it.

“You just do not have the guts required to do what needs to be done. None of you do. Only one other man I’ve ever met does, but he’s long gone and no one knows where he is. A few others have the potential and I have seen fit to surround myself with them, preening them to aid me for what is to come.

This world is rotten to the very core. The Gods that live both above and below in their divine kingdoms care either not at all or actively hate us, their own selves rotten and long forgetful of their gracious days. The demons beyond seek only our destruction, our very presence an act of defiance to them and their creator. The monsters, ghosts, and other creatures that exist also seek our demise, either to sate their hunger or their pleasure.

Even our so-called keepers, protectors, the Hunters, exploit and take advantage of the common man. Long gone are the days when any Tom, Dick, or Harry born had a chance for greatness. The laws the First put into place before his fall, are gone and forgotten.

Humanity is divided, to the very core. We fight each other constantly, Frederick. Even now, with a break and a powerful demon breathing down our necks, we are fighting. And I don’t care if you came of your own volition or if you were forced, it matters not. What matters is that there is only one way to solve the problem. There is only one situation in which humans will be wholly united.

When our very species is on the brink of extinction.

But, Frederick despite that being the solution, that is not what I seek. I do not attempt to reach for that scenario to make it come about. No, I merely prepare for it as it is destined. I can see it. I may not have the psychic foresight of Chiksika, but I do have a mind. A mind that has seen much, and weathered more.

A storm is coming, Frederick, and there are no Graves to bear the weight as we usually force them to, no noble Estates remaining to fight for the weak, and not nearly enough Pillars to keep the building upright. None of which normally keeps our lands stable exist. Even now, monsters, ghosts, and other beings creep around the fringes of humanity, eating towns just a bit too far away.

This storm will overshadow any other. And I’m not talking about the break nearby, no, I can handle that just fine. The demon within will fall like all the others I’ve met. It might be the strongest I'll ever face, but I will prevail.

But what I speak of is the inevitable realization the monsters, demons, and all the other creatures that exist within and without the wild have when they notice that not only is humanity not united, but instead we have never been more divided. That at any time they can crush and devour us, leaving few of us alive.

The Prime may still be alive, but it is obvious to any who reach our heights, that the man does not care about us anymore. His old age has made him uncaring, apathetic, and narcissistic. His shadow no longer guards us, no, his shadow merely restrains us with a false sense of security.

Sectioned off into hundreds of towns ruled by one or two strong Sigiled with the only thing giving them the authority to rule being the title of “Hunter”. So easily can one or two denizens of darkness take over a town with us none the wiser despite everyone thinking the Prime holds off the great threats. At this point, I don't think he'd even raise a finger against either of the Binary Lords.

We might have the most Sigiled compared to any other time in known history, but we certainly have the smallest number who are willing to die for one another. These years of relative happiness and peace have corrupted us. Broken us into sharp, but fragile pieces of glass scattered too far apart to be put back together without losing most of us.

What is required for us to no longer stab each other in the back, is for our backs to be against the wall. And when that happens, me and mine will be ready. Not because we caused it, but because we knew it was coming.

So, I, the Unalloyed Deadeye, ask you one final time, Frederick Alfonse. Do you wish to join me and my Survivors, or would you prefer to die when the Hunter becomes the Hunted?”